an awfully big adventure...

Black decided that the best thing to do at the moment was stay the hell away from Severus and Hermione as physically possible. Severus for the obvious reason as everytime he saw him he wanted to rip off his clothes and take him right there on the Potion’s desk.

But, he wanted to stay away from Hermione because every time after he had been alone with her, he had seen her humanity, and always wondered why he hated her so much. Certainly she didn’t fancy him, as she always looked either scared or sick when around him… sometimes both.

But, this was a pipedream. For everytime Black saw Hermione with Severus a rage that could not be tamed would well up within him. So much, that he wanted to beat the ever-loving crap out of her. No. Black was past jealousy…he was right onto hatred.

Snape on the other hand, was being subjected to Minerva\'s randome jabs at his rudeness to everyone. She had come over to him in the middle of breakfast one morning, as he swallowed his egg, almost choking.

\"What do you want?\" Snape snapped, miserably. He had been having
the most disturbing dreams latelalwaalways involving he and Hermione in compromising situations...

\"I hear you\'ve been entertaining Black in yohambhambers?\" she said with a small smile. Snape whisked his head around, whispering with a hiss of embarassment.

\"Please rephrase your latest comment, Minerva.\" he said, trying to see if any of the students or Professors had heard. \"I htoletolerated his presence as we had been working on a potion together.\"

Minerva had nodded, a twinkle in an aged eye. \"I see.\" she said softly, and left the table, promptly leaving his eyes trained after her, and falling on a calm Hermione, who was eating her breakfast.

God he hated McGonagal when she got like that. But, he couldn\'t feel angry at the moment, because the annoying Granger girl was stirring something in him, he couldn\'t quite explain...he just plain wanted her.

Perhaps it was beause she was a student, and in a sense forbidden to him. And he did relish a good challenge. Hermione must have felt his eyes on her as she turned to meet his gaze, sweeping past as if she hadn\'t noticed him.

\"Why\'s Snape looking at you?\" Harry wondered aloud to her, as she shrugged, embarassed and refrained from looking to Snape again. As it was, she was uncomfortable around him. Heram aam always flying back to her as he wrote lessons on the board, or helped her with the Potion.

Snape looked back to his breakfast, scowling as she resumed her speech with Potter. Sometimes he wished she\'d gaze at him with the same sort of lust he harboured for her. She was too much of a challenge.

Hermione at the moment was still recovering from that epiphany, of sorts. Why Snape had entered her thoughts during her past night\'s ‘romp’, was beyond her. She just assumed it was due to working with him so long in the Potions lab that night. Sure. That explained it.

The worst of it was Ron though. She should have never used him as a guinea pig. He followed her everywhere, he tried kissing her all the time, and bought her things he simply could not afford.

“Hermione,” Ron said suddenly one day as they sat studying (Ron’s idea) in the Library, “I’ve been thinking.”

“I’ll alert the media.” Hermione had said, as she scribbled down some thoughts onto parchment, as Ron leaned on his elbow staring at her, a habit Hermione had grown grudgingly accustomed to.

“WHAT?” she exclaimed frustratedly as his gaze penetrated her thoughts. Ron smiled calmly,

“I was thinking, Hermione. That you should kiss me.”

Hermione sighed. “Ron. I know you think you want to kiss me, but rest assured that this ‘desire’ is merely a side effect from a potion you were sprayed with. Remember? We’ve had this talk many times.”

Ron sighed contentedly, stroking her hand absently before she recoiled in haste, and glared at him.

“But, I think you should, Hermione.” Ron said gently, his blue eyes flicking around in their sockets as he tried to take all of her in. “Or I may have to take desperate actions.”

Hermione snorted very unladylike at this. “What are you on about?”

Ron sat up in the chair, very solemn as he spoke. “If you don’t kiss me Hermione, I will tell Harry what you did to-”

Hermione’s hand suddenly without warning slammed against Ron’s waiting lips. “What the bloody hell do you think your doing?!”

“Knighssyewu.” He mumbled, muffled under her shaking hand over his lips. She gingerly removed the palm slightly, as Ron spoke softly.

“I said, ‘kissing you’.”

Hermione sighed, her heart dropping as she imagined having to kiss Ron. Maybe a quick peck on the cheek would do…no, he’d insist on the lips.

“You promise after this, no more? No more threats and all? You’ll not say anything after this?” Hermione asked harshly, her hand lowering from his mouth. He smiled brightly and nodded emphatically.

“Fine.”

Hermione took a deep breath as she looked to Ron’s pinking lips in front of her. His eyes shut softly, as Hermione grimaced. Her own lips pursed a moment, as her own eyes shut and he leaned forward a bit, waiting for Ron’s warm lips against hers...

“Intriguing.” said a deep voice, darkly from beside her.

Hermione’s head whipped around and came face to face with the prince of darkness. God, the man was an overgrown bat. Where had he come from? Hermione\'s heart was going like a jackhammer, as she feared he had heard the last words spoken.

“Oh…hello Professor. What’s intriguing?” Hermione squeaked nervously, wringing her parchment in her hands. Snape stood with his usual arms crossed, and a deathly scowl on his sallow face.

“I find it intriguing, Miss Granger. That it is almost eight o’clock in the evening and I find you here playing kissing games with Mister Weasely.”

Hermione waited for more, and Snape raised an eyebrow as if this should mean something. Hermione’s brain went in circles, and she spoke meekly;

“Er…it’s not curf-“

“Try again.”

He cut her off, as Ron slowly backed away. Snape sneered at him, momentarily waving away Ron’s now blushing face.

“Get out of here Weasely. Kissing games will have to wait for another time.”

As he spoke, his eyes were still on the quivering Hermione. Ron jumfromfrom his seat beside Hermione and ran for the common room. Snape’s eyes were glowing with hatred and anger that Hermione hadn’t been the party to of that often. They were almost glittering with malice, as he spoke with a hissing-like tendency.

“I said, try again, Miss Granger.”

Hermione felt as if she were going to cry, as she tried to imagine what she was getting in trouble for. She kept lowering her gaze, but he seemed to capture it everytime it tried to dive. She at the present moment was sitting, and the most accessible thing to look at were his pants, and well...that wouldn’t do, so she had to look to his horribly dark eyes.

‘What could it possibly be?’ she began to think frantically, looking everywhere but his face now. He stood, contemplating what to do next.

‘I’ve been to every class I haven’t skipped anything I always do my assignments and try to answer all the questions he asks I’m sure I haven’t done anything wrong well unless you count the potion predicament But he got back at me with…’

Her eyes widened as she looked to his nodding face, yes. He knew she knew. She offered a feeble shrug, and tried to smile but failed.

“Er…detention?”

“Hmmm, very good Miss Granger.” Snape said walking around the sides of her chair. The Library was almost empty and she gulped for fear of what was to come next.

“I can see why you were made Head Girl with astute observations such as that. But, I’m afraid that simple knowledge of your error isn’t much help to me. You see, as I was sitting in my classroom, getting ready to assign a detention…guess what? The student never showed up!”

He was awfully close now; Hermione could see the lashes framing his dark eyes. They looked almost ebony as he got closer, until his hooked nose almost touched her own.

She backed her face away slowly as she felt his hot breath on her face, and he seemed perturbed. His gaze slipped to her rosy lips and suddenly he stood upright once more.

“My Potion’s room. NOW!” Snape barked as Hermione stood, and walked quickly ahead of him. Her heart was beating like a jackhammer. He quickly strode beside her as they made their way to his classroom. Hermione kept sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eyes.

It was strange to watch him move. It was if his upper half didn’t even seem to be on the same body as his lower. Sure, they were both rigid, but whereas his knees bended, his back remained at the total alignment of a pole, he never seemed to slouch, even when lifting something. He almost moved like a robot, save for the suave way he walked.

Finally they reached his doors, which he opened roughly, pushing her inside. She felt her knees go weak as his hand briefly touched the small of her back. Then it was gone…like the passing of a very cold breeze.

His fingers dappled amongst each other, as he felt the electricity run all over his body as his ers ers pressed roughly into her back. He felt himself start to shake with lust as he saw her young and smooth neck under her locks of unruly hair.

He had to retract his hand quickly, before they traveled all over her young and probably not so willing body. He did so sharply, coughing as if he were clearing his throat, but was actually trying to take his mind off of her body, and his slowly growing ‘excitement’ in his pants.

“Sit.” He commanded angrily, tossing her some bright white parchment. Then plucking her already poised quill from her shaking hands, he stabbed another one of his into it.

It was an elegant looking quill, black feather instead of smoky gray. She looked to it, fascinated at how some items a person owned could reflect so much about the owner.

He stood ahead of her, and watched her…until she drew her gaze to meet his. “What I am to do tonight, sir?”

‘Screw me three ways from Sunday’ his mind flashed horribly, as Snape internally berated himself for thinking such perversities about a student.

“You are to write; I will never be late for detention. Five thousand times.”

Hermione was almost laughing, “Lines? How easy…but her stomach dropped as she recalled the quill she was holding. Snape followed her gaze and gave a low chuckle, half hearted as if he hadn’t really wanted to laugh in the first place.

“Yes, Miss Granger. It’s enchanted so that you’re not permitted to cheat. You’ll be writing the old fashioned Muggle way. I’m sure your familiar. ” He smirked as he saw her face deepened in an angry blush. She was angry at this last comment.

“Yes sir.” She said looking to the scraps of long parchment in front of her. She sighed and waited for him to leave, dipping her quill in the ink and starting her scratchy writing.

Snape continued to watch her a few more moments, before retreating to the other side of the laboratory. They worked in comfortable silence a while. Funny, how Hermione didn’t mind him when he wasn’t talking.

It was almost comforting having him do some activity around her while she wrote. Him being around her while not speaking was almost normal…like husband and wife. As she went over it in her mind, it was sort of sweet. She could almost imagine she and Snape coming home from their separate jobs, kissing each other as they came home. Snape making some dinner they both loved, and then the two of them reti to to their Library to read up on some literature, or history books while drinking tea and laughing about the days events. Then, after that they would slip into pajama’s, and into their large four poster bed, where they would start with a kiss good-night, but end in mind blowing sex she wouldn’t get out of her mind until the next night.

She was smiling dreamily in the distance as she contemplated this life, suddenly two dark eyes peering into her own awoke her from this warm fantasy.

“May I ask what is so fascinating about the wall, Miss Granger?” Snape asked bemused. Hermione blushed as the dream from nights before ran through her mind, and she was seriously wondering if his lips were as firm as they looked…

“Have you finished your lines?” he asked deeplis his mind taking her from the classroom right into his bedroom. Imagining herself lain in the sheets with his heaving body glistening and pumping roughly into her as she screamed out his name in ecstasy.

“No.” Hermione answered hastily, as Snape glanced at her paper and awoke from his perverse fantasy. In her dreaming her hand had kept writing, right off the paper. She looked at the marks going off the page and onto the table, and back at a confused Professor. Snape rubbed his temples tenderly, sighing loud and heavily.

“Just. Leave, Miss Granger. You’re obviously ill.” Snape hissed pointing his wand at the parchment, and suddenly it was gone. He couldn’t stand having her in the same room as him anymore…especially when she looked at him in that way of hers. God, he was turning into a lecherous old man, thinking such lurid thoughts about a girl so young…no, not a silly little girl anymore. A woman. Hermione stood tentatively, not knowing what to do.

“When, should I report back here, Professor?” she asked meekly, and dreading the prospect of her next date of punishment.

“Next Friday, Miss Granger.” He said sternly. “But, we’ll mee meet this Thursday, as originally planned. For your…predicament.”

Hermione nodded, suddenly aware of how tall and broad shouldered he was, now that he was inches away. He looked down at her, irritated that she was still wasting his time.

“What are you waiting for you silly little girl? An engraved invitation? GO!” he snapped, and swirled on his heel to leave for the front of the room.

Hermione fled from the room, her heart pounding as she ran smack into Black. He caught her by the arms before she fell, and she felt her heart leap.

‘How stupid of me to be thinking of Snape all this time.’ Hermione thought almost laughing, when she felt even more secure in the strong hands of Black. How could she had even considered feeling for Snape?

‘The greasy git’s probably never even bedded a willing woman…’ she flinched as she thought this of Snape, against her will.

She inhaled the strong cologne he had obviously just sprayed on himself, looking at Hermione strangely. He almost looked sorry for her. She smiled at him, not noticing this, and looked to his handsome face. He smiled at her, trying to be kind, as he had owed to himself to try and be more civil to the know-it-all.

Snape watched this all from his spot at the front of the classroom. He was slowly sweeping to where Black still had Hermione in his embrace. Black sensed Severus from the corner of his eyes. Hermione was blushing now, and looking at Black’s cloaked chest.

Snape felt the insides of his stomach lurch, as he saw Hermione glowing in the gentle embrace of Black. He frowned as he realized she would never look at him like that…not that he cared or anything.

Suddenly Black inhaled shallowly and brought his hands away from Hermione’s shoulders. Suddenly, very out of character Hermione looked to Snape…almost like she was guilty.

She saw his pained expression, and felt her stomach squish up, as she grabbed her bag from its fallen place on the floor. She made a hasty exit from the room,

Snape looked boredly to Black, who was wringing his hands nervously and grimacing as he thought of Hermione’s face as he had touched her.

“Care for some tea?” Black asked Snape so soft that Snape actually looked to him in wonder.

“What?”

“Tea. Don’t you drink it?”

Snape growled miserably at this. “Of course I do, Black. I’m just not in the mood.”

“Well then. Would you like to work on some Potions?” Black asked merrily, ignoring that Severus was backing up from him at every opportunity.

“What the bloody hell? Since when do you want to spend time with me?” Snape asked sincerely confused. Sirius shrugged, trying not to be too vulnerable.

“I suppose, I just wanted to…you see Snape. I feel bad, for all the times James and I-“

Snape held up a pale hand at this. “No. I don’t need to hear it. It’s in the past, and we’ll leave it at that.”

He most certainly did not want to go back and reminisce about a time where he was mercilessly tortured by classmates, where his pride was nothing and he was constantly forced to live in the shadow of James Potter. No. Times like that were best left forgotten.

Black looked uncomfortable to Severus, and sighed deeply out of anger. Why did he have to be so difficult? Here he was pouring out his heart, and the man didn’t want to listen. But as he looked to Severus he saw the man was almost near tears.

Not that he actually had tears leak down his face, his his dark eyes had grown glassy. Suddenly he blinked them back, as Black stepped closer.

“Oh, Severus” Sirius said uncharacteristically softly, he gazed at Snape a moment. Snape backed away, feeling Black’s breath on his cheek.

“What did you call me?” Snape asked deeply, looking to Black with clear distaste. Black sighed, attempting to brush a loose strand of Snape’s black hair back.

Snape slapped Black’s hand suddenly, confused at this action with his heart in his throat as he hastily backed up to the wall. Black was so very close, so close that Snape was beginning to actually grow pensive.

“Severus…I-” Black started, then as if on afterthought suddenly and nervously licked his own lips and hurriedly grasped Snape’s hair at either side of his dark head and brought his lips forcefully to his own.
_________________________________________

Somewhere in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was sitting on the large red sofa. Rocking back and forth as she stared at the glowing embers of the fire.

She had been sitting there several hours, and her thoughts had been filled with horrible rude images of her and Black…and Snape. God, her thoughts of Snape were so unspeakable she blushed everytime her mind drew to him, against her will.

But what she was feeling at this moment was ludicrous.

She had come to a horrible realization as she sat there with her thoughts. She had tried to deny it, tried to ignore it and even try to reason with it…but to no avail.

She liked Professor Snape.