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Bad Snape Day	By : CorpseChild Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 2519 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Bad Snape Day
- 1
Bad Snape Day

Title: Bad Snape Day

Status: Complete

Summary: When everything seems to be going wrong for Severus, someone comes along and makes it right.

Rating: NC-17 for sexual content

Pairings: Hermione/Severus

Disclaimer: Characters copyrighted JK Rowling. This sick story is copyright by me and my deranged little mind. No profit is being made from this, I could hardly see why anyone would want to buy it anyway. This is a fan written story, written by a fan for fans who like this sort of thing.

Author's Note: PWP smut with humour thrown in for good measure. It's in third-person, but it's mostly's 's p.o.v.

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'What a terrible outcome for an otherwise horrible day,' thought Snape as he limped to a wingbacked chair before his chamber's hearth, collapsing into it just as flames jumped to life to offer their warmth. 'Or should that be the other way around?' He shook his head, it didn't matter, all in all, the day was no different than the one before it, and the one before that, and so on.

Let's start with breakfast. Usually, breakfast, for him, was no more than black coffee and a piece of toast or two, but that small comfort was shot to bloody hell when he took the first drink from his mug, then proceeded to choke on it as it went down the wrong pipe.

Imagine! Severus Snape being beaten upon the back by a short wizard who was nearly on the tips of his toes just to even reach the middle of his back. Add that to the bitter realization that not only had he nearly passed out from a blocked wind tunnel, but the coffee had been decaffeinated; a thing that Severus saw no point in. If you were going to drink coffee, you should drink it as it is. Decaffeinated coffee defeated the purpose of drinking it in the first place. What in the hell were those repulsive house elves thinking?

Following that grand escapade, a student nearly got tangled in his robes on his way to the ons ons classroom for his first class as he tried to sweep down a hall in his usual dramatic and billowy way. Hands and elbows and knees jabbed their way into places he was not happy about, and was a bit sore by the time he swept into the class, glaring at the students already at their seats.

*Thankfully*, the class went well, and so did the following two aside from a few knicks and cuts he received from trying to wrestle a scalpel out of a frantic Ravenclaw's hand, who had shrieked at the top of her lungs at the sight of one of her potions ingredients still twitching.

The scalpel, of course, was to be used as a way to defend herself, but the only thing that saw the malice of that blade was Snape's hand. You'd have thought a third-year woue use used to seeing anomalies of the bestial world, especially those whose lives continue on even after they are supposedly dead. A marantula's leg was no exception.

The last class was his most dreaded, tll-fll-fated Slytherin/Gryffindor with Malfoy, Potter, Weasley, and Granger all rolled into one sweet and sour package. Aside from the usual annoyances of having to keep both sides in check, Longbottom's ineptitude at everything he does unless it happens to be fawning over Granger, and Potter's smugness, he managed to not-so-gracefully trip over Granger's bookbag that had been left too close to the middle aisle, twisting his ankle and stumbling into a desk, knocking over a cauldron, and staining his robes with a reddish-violet goo that was supposedly to be a potion to help quicken the rate at which platelets assisted in healing wounds.

It was too bad none of the goo happened upon his ankle, whether or not he had an open sore, it might have helped a bit if absorbed into his skin. But, as was the bane of wearing long slacks, long robes, and high socks, nothing of the sort happened. And why would it? It would simply be asking too much of Fate or thds ods or whoever was listening for something to go right, just this once.

His ankle throbbing, and most likely swollen, hckedcked off his shoes gingerly, leaning back in the chair, grumbling to himself.

"Insufferable Potter, insufferable Weasley and Longbottom, insufferable Granger and all their insufferableness. Sodding sixth-years don't even know how to act in a class room after all these years!"

He was quite aware that he could have summoned a bag of ice for his ankbut but knowing his luck that day it would probably be a bag of frozen vegetables, and they would just defrost and leave a formidable smell in his private chambers that he won't be able to get rid of.

The least he did at the moment, or *wanted* to do, was roll up the cuffs of his slacks so that perhaps the heat from the fire would soothe the injury in some way. What did he know? He was a potions master, not a mediwizard. There was no cadeceus embroidered on any of his robes.

A knock came to his door and, groaning protest but not up to yelling his usual dismissals to any visitors that might come to him, he pushed out of the chair and hobbled on over.

"Who is it and what do you want?" He growled, peering through the crack in the door he supplied for himself. He couldn't see much, a lot of hair, that was pretty much it. A fading spark in the back of his mind hoped it was someone bearing alcohol, but that was not likely.

"It's, uhm, me, Professor... Hermione Granger." Oh rot. What did she want now, to scatter marbles on the floor so he can trip some more? Why couldn't he sulk in peace?

"How did you get here?"

"The door behind your desk was open, sir, so I thought that this is where you'd be." So much for *private* chambers. Leave it up to his carelessness to give away his only sanctuary. He kept the door cracked,

"What do you want?" he repeated, irritated that he had to balance most of his weight on one foot now. He didn't exactly have the greatest equilibrium, despite his experience in looming over others while scowling and sneering.

The tenor voice on the other side of the door hesitated, "I...came here to apologize for what happened, sir, and to...see how you were doing."

Surely she was yanking his chain, so to speak. How could she want to willingly be concerned about his well-being? Unless, of course, there was a catch to it. A bet or dare put on by Potter and Weasley, for instance. He snorted.

"I highly doubt your considerations are genuine, so please don't try to waste either of our time and return to your dorm room." He was about to close the door right in her face, when she snuck her knee into the crevice so as to keep him from shutting it. Even Snape wasn't inclined to physically hurt a student by slamming a door on their leg. He then noticed, by incident of the school dress code, that her knee was quite bare due to the pulling back of the skirt in the course of her movement.

...Get a hold of yourself, Severus! It's just a knee, for Merline's sake. A rather boney one, at that. Not something to get worked up about. Not that you were getting worked up or anything.

His mind battled with him, and frankly he didn't want to deal with his conflicting mind so he slammed the voices to the furthest reaches of his mind. Let's deal with the matter at hand, first.

He swung the door wide open and scowled at the girl, "What is the meaning of this intrusion, did you *want* me to snap your leg off?"

She shifted uncomfortably, bringing her legs together once the door had been pulled open. She didn't dare look triumphant in anyway that she was able to get him to open the door more than just a hair, she could tell he was in a bad mood, and just her presence didn't seem to make it better. Not that she expected it to.

"Professor, I really am sorry about what happened. I didn't plan for you to trip over it, and had I not been distracted by other things-"

"You mean such as Longbottom."

"-I would have noticed you coming up the aisle and moved it right away."

There was silence for a couple beats, Snape noticed now that she had a small parcel in her hands that seemed to be giving off a faint aroma of-- well, he wasn't quite sure. He briefly wondered what it could be, while noting that Granger had dropped her eyes to the ground, noticing with slight amusement at the sight of Snape's pants rolled up.

"Something *funny*, Granger?" He seriously did not know why he was still standing there. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a smug smile impressed itself into his brain. Was he getting hassled by his own subconcious too? How much more sanity was he going to lose by the end of the year??

"Er, I just saw that..." her voice trailed off, knowing she probably shouldn't finish that sentence, and also because she had just noticed how swollen his ankle was, frowning despite the target for her concern being Snape.

"Professor, you really ought'nt be standing, that looks really bad."

"I thank you for your medical opinion, Miss Granger, but might I add that you were the one that made me get up in the first place?" As if he had really wanted to be scolded by a seventeen year old *Gryffindor* girl.

"Beg pardon, sir, but you had the choice to say either 'Come in' or 'Go away' as you saw fit, without having to get up. I would have done whatever it was requested of me." She did have a point.

"That's not the point." Hah, take that. Not a very clever comeback, but he was already too tired to fight much, especially with a student. A know-it-all student, at that. He exhaled exasperatingly,

"Very well. Get on with it then." He tried to shift his weight, but grimaced as new feelings of pain catapulted from his ankle all the way up his leg. Bad idea, very bad idea. Let's not do that again, okay?

"May I come in, Professor?" She sent a concerned glance from his visage to his foot. Not good at all.

"If the quicker to be rid of you, then fine." He hopped back a bit to allow more entrance space for her, hopping forward again to close the door once she was inside. She gave a quick scope of the simple furnishings, he could just see her checking the mental list in her head, looking mildly surprised. What did she expect, bats, cobwebs and black drapings? He snorted inwardly, he deserved more credit than that...didn't he?

"Let me help you sit down," she reached for his arm, but he wrenched free of her imminent grasp and hobbled back to the chair on his own, propping his foot up once again.

"Please, Miss Granger, if you're going to offer your hospitiable medical talents, I implore you to get on with it and leave, so that I may be by myself once more." he grumbled. Was he actually condoning this? Yes, it seemed that he was. Well, it was better this than to face Poppy Pomfrey, who always scolded him as if he were a student and shoving chocolate into his hand as if that's all he needed to dull an ache or pain.

The things he usually wanted for numbing aches and pains of varying degrees were not ones he would go to the school nurse about. She wasn't particularly his type, anyway.

"You don't have to be such a bitter pill, Professor. I didn't *have* to come here, but under obligation and slight concern I decided that I should." She had unwrapped the parcel and revealed that it was a small jar with the picture of a leaping tiger on it. What felines had to do with medicine was beyond him.

"I can assure you that you have no reason to feel obligated in coming here. My feelings dn'dn't have been hurt had you not, and I'm sure I'm old enough to take care of myself." He scrunched his nose as she unscrewed the lid, the aroma of what he could only describe as the smell of his mother's medicine cabinet wafted towards him and tempered with his sinuses, causing him to take a deep breath. He was vaguely familiar with the smell, but couldn't quite place it.

"It appears to me that you haven't been doing *much* to take care of yourself, other wise it wouldn't be as swollen as it is now." She certainly was brave and snappy without her cohorts in tow to slow her down, but whether that was a good or bad thing was undetermined.

"This will relieve some of the pain and relax the muscle surrounding it." Granger explained as she dipped two of her fingers into the sallow gel, and rubbed it along his ankle.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth at the rippled of pain. Was it really necessary for physical cot? St? She had a wand afterall, surely there was a way to apply the cream without her having to touch him.

'Afraid you might come to like the physical contact, Severus?' his mind teased him, and he narrowed his eyes in a glare as he looked into the corner of his peripheral vision, as if to try and glare at something or someone in the back of his mind.

The little distraction of his subconcious kept his mind away from the application of whatever it was Granger was putting onto his ankle, but a sudden cold and prickly feeling made him look. Was this normal? Or did the know-it-all not really 'know it all' and had done it wrong, and now his foot was going to fall off?

A bit dramatic there, aren't you Sev ol' boy?

"Sod off," he mumbled to himself outloud.

"Pardon...?" The bushy-haired sixth-year looked up, her brow knitted into confusion. Great, not only was she going to have a way to blackmail him ("Don't make me tell everyone how I nursed you back to health!"), but she could also claim how he talks to himself and have him shipped to St. Mungo's in a tight-fitting wraparound jacket.

He sneered at the thought, he didn't particularly think white was a good colour for him, and those jacket's didn't seem to come in any other hue.

Ignoring her inquery, and the fact that he had told himself to sod off, he arched a brow at her,

"What exactly is this I am permitting you to put on me?" That's it, keep control of the situation by making her think that you could dismiss her at any moment, any time you feel like it.

"It's called tiger balm. It's a Muggle medicine for pain relief and such. It doesn't heal anything, but it makes the injury more bearable until it can be." Leave it up to *her* to use a Muggle invention on *him*. Just another reason for her to blackmail him or taunt him ("Remember -- a *Muggle* balm helped you to recover from your injury, Professor Snape, I wouldn't be saying such things if I were you, especially since it was I who administered the balm to your poor ankle.") Two birds with one stone, there. What had he gotten himself into?

"Pardon my mentioning," he said in a tone that plainly said he didn't really care if he was pardoned or not, why should he?,"But I seem to be void of the fact that *you* would do anything strenuous that would require your use of this. Unless of course, you sprain a wrist trying to turn a page in one of your books."

The biting sarcasm was one of his favorite toys, and although he often wondered if it was necessary or appropriate at certain times, he never regretted anything he might say. There was no use in regret, it just ate away at you until you succumbed to it entirely. Snape wasn't the type to bend his will to a mere emotion, damnit.

There was an apparent look of hurt and a kind of betrayal at his words on her face. He hoped to Merlin and to Circe and anyone else, that she wouldn't burst into a fit of crying. The last thing he needed on this *perfect* day was to make a student, a *female* student, cry. There was an unwritten law about making females cry, and it was one he didn't really want to break, no matter how much of a horrible man he tried to be, he didn't think the punishment for such a thing would be worth it.

Luckily, Granger wasn't the type to give in to emotions so easily either, and she stealed herself, taking a deep breath. "Perhaps not, Professor, but Harry Potter is an active Quidditch player, and often requires the aid of tiger balm to relax the knots in his back and shoulders that weave themselves into existence from the use of flying a broom as vigorously as a Seeker needs to." She paused for breath, intent on getting her point across. Bossy, a show off, *and* stubborn, boy was he lucky to have had such pleasant company this night,

"Furthermore, I may not be very physically active, but sitting in those impossible wooden chairs in the potions classroom for a straight hour does terrible things to one's back. Not that I would expect you to know, seeing as you have the priviledge of sitting in a leather chair most of the day." Ahh, there's that bitter resentment Snape was so accustomed to. Granted, he was usually the one feeing the bitter resentment, but it was almost comforting, in an odd way, to find that he was resented in a mildly envious way.

She was right, too, that chair was quite comfy. He often found himself dozing off in it between classes and meals when he would lean back to recooperate from the stress of being a teacher. As it were, at this very moment he was leaning back with his head against the chair, thinking about his comfy chair.

"Are you quite done, Granger? I'd like to *not* come out of one of your speeches thinking I missed the graduations of my children." Where was his comfy chair now, to relieve the tension from his neck like it so often did?

'Right through that door, Severus! That is, if you could be enough of a man to get up on your own and go to it without having a seventeen-year-old assist you as if you were some aging degenerate.' His subconcious laughed at him coldly. It suddenly occurred to him how rude his mind was at times, and wondered why he let it be that way. He might very well go to St. Mungo's if he didn't learn to control this...little demon.

"I'd be sorry for the world if you had children." She muttered, picking up something he had not seen in the parcel: gauze. Great, now he was going to become an official cripple with that shite. It was already evident she thought he was falling apart, if she thought she could just get away with such mutterings. He was Severus Snape, afterall!

"I'd be sorry for the world if I *didn't.*" He snorted, who said he wasn't allowed a little arrogance now and then?

At that, Hermione purposely applied pressure to his ankle, making him yell out in pain. The yell went for two things: not only his ankle, but he was absently chewing on a piece of skin on his finger when she had done that, which made him jolt and accidentally tear a piece of skin off of his finger. It was now bleeding quite profusely.

'It doesn't hurt,' he tried to tell himself. But these sort of things were like papercuts, they were small, but they hurt like hell. He tried to put his hand on the arm of the chair, ignoring it entirely. Maybe if he pretended it wasn't there, the pain would go away?

Hermione saw this and rushed over to the side of the chair to look at it. He sneered at her as she looked at it and scrunched her nose at the blood. What, can't even take a little blood? How does she eve-

That train of thought was slammed to a halt as Hermione, not really knowing what else to do and her wand forgotten in her room, slipped his bleeding finger into her mouth. Snape's eyes widened slowly in shock at this action. What the bloody hell is she doing? Oooh...

The girl was now sucking on his finger, not at all concerned about the fact that he most likely had resin still on his hands from potion making. Well, she didn't seem to be affected by it, and he certainly wasn't going to stop her from doing that delicious thing she was doing with her tongue.

His body went into miniature convulsions, sending volts of energy through his body, but mostly to his groin. Who knew the know-it-all was so talented with her tongue? The way she rolled it around his finger, running her tongue along it while it was still in her mouth. He should sprain his ankle more often.

"Miss Granger...!" he breathed, not really sure what to say. Well, as they say, actions speak louder than words, don't they? Perhaps, but how the hell did that pertain to him? He moved quite swiftly, and gracefully if he did say so himself (aside from today, that is,) and purposefully kept his footsteps silent, what kind of action could*he* possibly do that would speak louder than any words he might scream to his students in class?

'A lot of good the screaming ever did anyway,' he thought bitterly, ignoring, for the moment, the prefect sucking quite nicely on his finger. Oh, no, now she had put a second finger into his mouth. 'What?? But that one wasn't bleeding-Oh, I get it.' he exhaled through his mouth deeply, staring at the way her small mouth stretched around his fingers. Those lips might do well for accomodating larger-sized objects...

His brain went a little fuzzy as he watched in awe, battling between taking control of the situation or just letting her take care of it herself. Which was fine for him, he could just sit there and not have to think about anything but that mouth and those lips and oh that tongue. Maybe Granger wasn't so bad afterall.

What was he saying?? She was an annoying little whelp who was a bossy show off and needlessly snobby for a Muggleborn.

The way she moved fluidly from the floor to straddling his lap suggested that she wasn't exactly the little whelp he thought her to be. Indeed, she was every inch a woman, perhaps a little bit wider hips than he might have expected, and she had a bit of a tummy, but when a female was sucking on your fingers yout dit didn't complain.

Well damnit, if sexual acts were going to commence, he might as well cop a feel, right? With his free hand he cupped the side of her face, sliding it down to meet her chin, trailing a finger lightly down her throat, down her sternum, her stomach, and to her waist. He flattened his palm and slid it back upwards, this time pushing it over one of her breasts, feeling a small hardness beneath his palm as he rubbed at it with the flat of his palm, his breath shuddering from excitement.

He was a little rusty at this whole foreplay thing, and, well, the whole sex thing in general, I mean, what did you expect from a man who wasn't as outwardly handsome as, say, Lucius Malfoy or Gilderoy Lockhart? Lockhart didn't count though, he was just fruity and flamboyant. Sickeningly annoying, too.

He continued to rub at her breast, hopeful that if he reciprocated she would continue to surprise him. He didn't usually like surprises, buter ser some circumstances, such as this one, he wasn't one to be such a spoil sport. His day was turning around quite nicely, for a change.

His administrations to just her one breast apparently pleased her, because soon she was slowly rocking her hips against his pelvis, against the obvious hardness there that he should probably feel ashamed of but wasn't, allowing his fingers to slip from her mouth as she placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself in her movements.

Snape could think nothing else but to think of it as encouragement, and began to rub and squeeze both her breasts through the shirt beneath her robes. How he had gotten beneath her robes wasn't really clear, but neither of them was making a big deal out of it, so he took it a little further by slipping his hands under the shirt and under the bra for direct contact.

Her body was practically radiating heat, which made him think about the fires that usually crackled beneath the cauldrons he'd become so accustomed to over the years. Speaking of which, he still had a batch of Peppermint Polishing Potion for Dumbledore, a potion that, when applied to certain surfaces, had different reactions. Snape didn't even *want* to know what sort of twisted uses the headmaster would have for the potion, because it could be used for such purposes, he just wanted to brew it, bottle it, and get it the hell out of his lab.

Something between a whimper and a moan brought him back to the present, looking up into the hooded eyes of the sixth-year Gryffindor bucking on his lap. Shite, did she notice him blanking out? What sort of man would that make him out to be, if he couldn't even keep his attention even when a pretty young thing such as Granger was engaged in sexual acts on his lap?

In an attempt to redeem himself if she had indeed noticed anything, Snape flicked one of her nipples with one hand, while the other rolled the other nipple between thumb and forefinger. A surprised squeak came out of the girl, and Snape was once again in control.

'Nice, very nice.' he complimented his tact as he continued the assuage on Granger, who paused her acts of outercourse just enough to paw at his robes, pulling at the many buttons and pushing away the high collar. Snape let out a sigh, his neck relaxing as much as it could. Sometimes he didn't know why he wore such concealing clothes when all it did was give him a stiff neck and make him sweat more than a teacher ought to. What could he say? Black just looked good on him.

Granger began leaving kisses all along his collar bones and the sides of his neck, stopping to suck ly aly at his adams apple, rewarded with a throaty groan. Gods, such hormones she has, her hands were already at work on his pants. 'Better not make it too difficult for her,' and in an offer to help he raised his hips slightly. Her small mouth was already sucking his earlobe, her hot breath rushing in her ears. He never knew breathing could be such a turn-on-- it was safe to say that he would never resort to becoming a necrophiliac.

Desperate hands fumbled at the foreign clasp on his trousers, and it was then, when he had shifted his legs, that he remembered he had an injured ankle.

Just as she was about reach into the depths of his trousers, Snape pulled his head back and sputtered, "W-wait, Miss Granger, my ankle-!" his voice was husky from lust, and he suddenly wanted a glass of water. He wasn't getting nervous was he? Severus, don't back out now!

She brought her mouth away from his jaw, she had been working her way towards his mouth, but he had to go and say something and ruin it. With an impatient look, she searched the sleeve of his robes, withdrawing his wand which had been hidden inside a pocket, and pointed it at his ankle. She muttered a few charms to decrease the swelling, soothe the nerves, and eventually heal it enough so it wouldn't cause him any pain.

Snape's jaw dropped open in disbelief, that little wench! "Why didn't you just do that in the first place and then go on your merry way??" The nerve of her, she had the knowledge of how to heal it with magic and she went about using *Muggle* medicine instead!

She gave another impatient look, dropping wandwand to the floor, "Because then I couldn't do this!" She lunged forward, grasping his shoulders, and pressed her lips against his firmly.

At least she was honest, and Snape couldn't resist a woman who was truthful, especially a woman who was truthful whose knickers barely contained the fluids her arousal was creating. He could feel the warm wetness even through his pants. He pushed back at her with his mouth, and they bothed locked lips in furious abandon. Tongues licked at eachother but never entered the others mouth. It wasn't quite as sloppy as it seemed it would, anapenape was content with just this, really. He had never kissed in such a way, for he had never had the chance to enjoy himself. And believe you me, he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

He was beginning to enjoy himself more as Granger's hand slid down his chest to his opened fly, finally releasing his throbbing erection. It was yet another relief to not have it straining against his trousers, which was really uncomfortable after awhile. He was glad that he had not worn any knickers of his own that day, and he could tell by her throaty giggle of approval that she was glad for it too.

Now that the worry of his ankle was of no concern, Snape adjusted his legs so the knees were together now, just as if he were sitting normaln thn the chair and did not have a sex-craved Gryffindor nibbling his lips and jerking him off.

Gasping at the fiercness which she pumped away at him with her small hand, he struggled to keep his mind clear enough to"Accio" his wand into his hand, and disintegrate her knickers from beneath her skirt.

Now it was *his* turn to make her gasp, a pleasant surprised one as he reached her mound from behind and stroked the soft flesh there, soaking his fingers. Did he really do this, did he make her feel this way? It was almost hard to believe, since he was under the firm suspicious that the only feeling he made any female feel towards him was contempt. Granted, he did a lot of things to make them feel that way, but this was proof that he was capable of more than that.

His long and nimble fingers found her button of pleasure, grinding his index and middle fingertips against it to stimulate it, receiving positive results as she moaned softly, and again once he literally slid his fingers away from it, only to plunge them both into her folds and the inner recesses of her womanhood. Long and swift strokes issued more noises from her lips, and Snape couldn't help a wry smile to happen upon his face.

'Yes, that's right, make noises for me.' he encouraged her silently, not wanting to speak again for fear of ruining the mood. Gods forbid he is cheated out of one *good* lay in he-can't-remember-how-many-years!

The mutual masterbation went on for another minute or so until both craved more. He wasn't sure who made the first move, but before he had even noticed her hand was gone, it was replaced with something hot, soft, and moist. Slowly she lowered herself onto his pecker, relishing the feel of him touching every inch of heevereverus gave out a long low moan to accompany her slow-moving descentvellvelling at how she fit him like a velvet glove-- a small, wet glove.

Her hands were on his shoulders again as she sat down on his lap, straddling him as she engulfed the full length of him-- which was above average he might add-- without any troubles. With a mischievious smile, she began to rotate her hips counterclockwise, and Snape felt the oh-so-pleasurable rippling of her inner muscles around his member.

It was enough to make him hold his breath, and he was actually, and let it out shakily at the same moment she let out her own shakey breath.

Tentatively, he put his hands on her hips and halted her movements, shifting a bit so he sat up straighter, and then moved her hips again, only this time back and forth, allowing room enough so he could slide a little bit out of her when she moved back, then slam back into her when she moved forward.

Their actions began speeding up with their eyes both transfixed to their groins, watching. But slowly, she started to lean forward, her hands moving up to grip the back of the chair, her breasts thrust into his face as she lifted herself up on her knees yet continued to pound against him.

"Ooh Merlin," he groaned under his breath as the waves of arousal pulsed through his groin. Having Granger's breasts in his face made it all the more better, as he removed his hands from her hips and tugged at the buttons of her shirt, yanking down her bra roughly to clasp his lips onto a nipple.

"Professor," She moaned as the added sensation of his slick tongue circling her nipple caused her to lurch forward, the sensitive nerves transmitting each stroke of his tongue straight to her groin.

Ooh, how he enjoyed hearing that fall from her mouth, knowing that she still recognized him as an authority even in the throes of passion. If she had called him 'Severus', that might have en aen a little too uncomfortable for him. They were never on a first-name basis, why should they start *now*?

He suckled her as best he could, seeing as how fast she was pivoting her hips against him made it a tad difficult, but his efforts were appreciated, he knew, because at that moment she had dipped her head down and placed kiss against his sweaty brow, licking her lips to taste the salty residue.

They were now both sweating rivers, and they undressed eachother's torso in an attempt to let their skin breathe. Her hips never stopped as she pushed his robes and the white collared shirt down his shoulders, allowing him to pull out his arms. He was no muscle-man, but he was no skeleton either. There was just enough muscles beneath his sallow skin to make him atst lst look like he ate, just not enough. Could he help that he had a fast metabolism? Even if he *did* eat a lot, it would never show. It had something to do with his profession and his past, both of which he could care less right about now.

He in turn began pushing down her own clothing past her shoulders, tossing them aside in a heap, looking up as she glowed in the firelight, beads of sweat dotting her flesh, the rush of cool air that came from the discardment of clothes brought her nipples to taut peaks. He wrapped an arm around her, placing his palm flat against her back and pushing her forward, capturing the neglected nipple in his mouth and sucking it hard, fondling the other breast with his free hand.

It was amazing that they didn't break their rhythm at all during this, which said something about their concentration as well as desperate want to not disrupt what they had going.

From the tightening in his scrotum, Snape had a feeling it was going to get disrupted pretty soon. He wasn't the only one, Granger's breathing seeming to become more shallow, her movements more frantic, until he just gave up on the whole breast-fondling thing and just rested his hands on the backs of her thighs.

In unison, they both cried out in ecstacy as their dual orgasms took over, wracking their bodies with shuddery breaths and convulsions. Warm semen coated her inner walls and began to drip back down his shaft. Exhausted, Granger settled down against him to catch her breath, eyes closed and listening to the rapid beating of his heart.

That was certainly... something. Quite possibly one of his best orgasms tdidndidn't involve him and his hand. There really was no substitute for the real thing.

Gulping for air, he smoothed his hands against her sweat-slicked sides, head resting back and staring at some unknown point. He felt his member slip out of her, spent for the night, and his seed seeping out of her, collecting between them. This was going to be painful if they sat their too long and let it dry, he just knew it. Better dislodge the girl now before she gets too comfortable.

His hands grabbed her beneath her arms and lifted her up with a surprising strength she didn't expect him to have, and tried to set her on her feet but her legs were still too wobbly to support her weight. Sighing, not trusting his own legs but wanting to give them both a chance to sit on something a little more comfortable than the chair, or him, he gathered her into his arms and strode quickly to his bed which lay not more than six feet away.

As he came to approach the side of the bed, he layed her down on her back and sat next to her. She had to weigh at least 120 pounds, he knew if he had to hold her much longer like that his arms would of fallen off. Sure, he had some strength, but he had wasted a lot of energy doing... well, her.

Once again, he used "Accio" to summon his wand to him, and murmured a few cleaning charms both to the chair and to themselves. Then he summoned their clothes, refreshing them and fixing any broken buttons or whatnot, before pulling his white linen shirt back on, unbuttoned. His outer robe could stay off, he had no one to impress right now.

After tucking himself back into his pants, he turned to the girl staring up at him with a distant smile.

"I suppose you should be off to your rooms now, it's almost past curfew and Filch would be more than happy to happen upon you in the halls and give you detention." he regarded her lightly, watching as her smile faltered, but nevertheless she sat upright and dressed herself. What was he supposed to say now? 'Thanks for the fling, and don't forget to have your assignment finished for next week?' Not exactly the most *sensitive* thing to say, but then again, he was Severus Snape, he never had a need to be sensitive to someone else's feelings. Until now, that is.

"Can I come back tomorrow night?" She said suddenly, having stood up and whirled around to face him while he was drifting off with his thoughts.

"W-what?" he replied in shock, was she really proposing what he thought she was?

"To, er, check on your ankle?" She said in an airy tone, her eyes insinuating ulterior motives.

Snape pondered this a moment. If he agreed to let her come back the next night, would there be a repeat of tonight? Did he really want that? With the Granger girl, no less? Maybe he could benefit from these nightly visits, but only if she didn't expect any favoritism within the classroom.

"You may, but whatever transpires between us stays within this room and doesn't carry on into the classroom. I have a reputation to uphold, and the slightest thing could mean trouble for all of us." He looked at her directly in her eyes, hoping she was as smart as she would have them all believe and understand what he truly meant.

She smirked and nodded her head slowly, "I understand." She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, and he suddenly remembered that she was without her knickers.

He stood, bringing himself a breath's away from her, looking down at her. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against hers, swiftly slipping a hand beneath her skirt to briefly caress her sensitive flesh, before cutting the kiss short and whispering in her ear,

"Now go, before I deduct points for loitering." He licked her ear and stepped back, pleased at the sharp intake of breath she had to take.

Her eyes glittered and she gave an impish smile, turning to pick up the tiger balm she leftleft on the ground and capping it, slipping it into a pocket of her robe. As she reached the door and opened it, she looked back and smiled,

"Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Miss Granger." He watched her slip out the door, immediatly collapsing onto his bed with a satisfied smirk.

"What a great ending to my day." He mused aloud, before stripping off his clothes and crawling beneath the bedding. He closed his eyes and slowly succumbed to a dreamless slumber.
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Bad Snape Day