Inside the Blackest Heart (Edit, Not Update)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
*******************************

Chapter 26 ~ Aftershocks

Hermione woke and stretched languorously. Again she found herself in a damp spot, evidence of another erotic dream. But oh, what a dream it had been. It wasn’t a rehashing of the time she’d spent with the Potion’s Master, but an entirely new and sensate one where she could actually feel contact. Hermione had come to him in his bed, straddled his cock as he lay there immobile, and rode him to an earthshaking climax. She found she had enjoyed the dream and her position of power over Snape. She liked being subject to his lust, but there was something to be said for being in charge too.

The climax had been very satisfying. Although she still felt the need for him, the bubble inside was much diminished, as if he had actually sated her. Feeling wonderful, she slid out of bed and scourgified her sheets as she had been doing for the past week. She then took a quick shower and dressed. She was famished. Grabbing her backpack, she headed for the Great Hall.

Ron and Harry were already seated and tucking into breakfast, Ron shoveling food into his mouth at an amazing rate. Hermione surmised he must have spent some quality time with Parvati by the way he was going at it, but then again, Ron rarely needed a reason to stuff himself to bursting. Good thing he had a fast metabolism, or he would have been as big as Hogwarts.

Hermione greeted the pair and slid between them. She immediately piled a huge amount of scrambled eggs and sausage on her plate and commenced to digging in. She was completely unaware of a pair of beetle-black eyes resting on her piercingly.

“She didn’t even look toward the High Table,” Snape thought angrily. Lately, Hermione always cast at least one longing glance at him before beginning breakfast. This morning, nothing. He knew why. Her disembodied rape of him had sated her. Yes. Rape. That’s exactly what it was. Even if it wasn’t her in actuality, she reaped the benefits of his body without permission and left him with an aching scrotum full of unreleased come. He was used to using women, not be used by them and his ego had taken quite a blow. He scowled at the witch. He had half a mind to snatch her out of the dungeon corridors tonight while she was on her rounds and just take her, Primordial or not, and make her pay heartily for her little late night visitation. He realized the visitation was an unconscious one, but that did nothing to quell the urge he had to ravage and release inside her hot, wet pussy. Before last night, her unmet desire for him was a distraction at best, and he wasn’t saddled with an overpowering lust to do her like he was now. Snape was a vengeful man, and he rarely ever let what he considered a wrong go unpunished. He was determined to make her pay…tonight.

Hermione got a cold feeling in her belly at that moment, and looked up to see the Potions Master glaring at her. What was the matter with him? She shrugged her shoulders, chalking his glare up to the deep reservoir of snarkiness he was gifted with, and returned to her meal.

In Potions class, Snape was on Hermione like a niffler on galleons. He unfairly deducted a great number of points from her, tore up her homework assignment, and made her clean several cauldrons of rotten salamander innards without magic or gloves, while the rest of the class read an assigned chapter. There was not one magical repercussion from the witch, though she was mad as hell at him.

She was finishing up the last cauldron when the Professor dismissed the class and took his seat, pretending to mark parchments, knowing the witch would take him to task about his treatment of her. Sure enough, an irate Hermione marched up to his desk.

“Professor Snape! You purposely picked on me today. I didn’t do anything to warrant cleaning those cauldrons. And you tore up my homework claiming it was unsuitable when you didn’t even look at it! And the points…” she began.

“Miss Granger, how did you sleep last night?” the Professor asked him, his eyes glittering.

Hermione’s eyes shifted a bit.

“I slept fine. Why?” she asked him, scowling.

“Have any interesting dreams?” he asked her silkily, his black eyes burning into hers so intensely Hermione felt her stomach flip-flop. He knew she had dreamed about him.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” she replied. Well, she did dream about him a lot lately, so it wasn’t a total lie.

The Professor stared at her, a slight frown on his face.

“What did you dream last night, Miss Granger?” he asked her directly, “And I expect a truthful answer or I will deduct more house points,” he snarled at her.

“Why is what I dream so important to you?” she countered, not wanting to tell him about riding his prone body.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” the Potions Master responded, “Care to make it twenty? Now answer the question, Miss Granger!”

“I dreamed about you,” she muttered.

The Professor stood up and walked from around the desk and stood in front of her.

“Speak up! What did you dream about me? After what I’ve done to you Miss Granger, your shyness is annoying, senseless and stupid. Now tell me what you’ve dreamed,” he said, leaning towards her. He wanted to shake her until her teeth chattered, and then he wanted to….

Hermione felt warmth spreading across her belly as she looked up into the face of the Potions Master. The Professor noticed the slight dilation of her pupils and rightly discerned she was getting turned on. He stepped closer so he was mere inches from her.

“Tell me what you dreamed, Miss Granger,” he said in a low, soft voice. She went a little dreamy-eyed. This was too easy.

“I dreamed I came to your bedroom and had sex with you,” she said, staring up at him. Gods, if he could just take her now. The Professor traced a long finger down her cheek, his black eyes hard.

“How did you have sex with me?” he asked her silkily. She shuddered.

“I was on top of you. You were laying on your back,” she said as if hypnotized.

“And did you enjoy it? Did you come Miss Granger?” he asked a bit tightly, as if controlling himself.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes still locked to his. “Touch me. Do something,” she thought.

“And what happened after that?” the Potions Master pressed.

“Nothing. The dream ended,” she replied. The Potions Master stepped back from her.

“Your climax, was it intense? More intense than your other dreams about me?” he asked her.

“Yes, it was. It seemed real, like I was with you,” she replied, still under his influence.

The Professor scowled at Hermione, his black eyes flashing with anger and something else she couldn’t read. Why was he so upset? It was just a dream. He knew she dreamed about him. Hermione couldn’t understand his reaction.

“You’re dismissed Miss Granger,” Snape said, returning to his desk.

Hermione felt like a tankard of cold water had been thrown over her when he walked away. But the fire was still burning in her belly. She stood there. The Professor looked up at her.

“I said you may go, Miss Granger. Do I have to show you where the door is?” he asked snarkily.

“You are a bastard, Professor!” Hermione spat before she could help herself.

The Professor looked up at her calmly.

“As correct as your assessment of me is, Miss Granger, you just cost your House thirty more points,” he said, his black eyes twinkling with malice.

Hermione groaned inwardly. She had cost Gryffindor almost one hundred points in one day. Her housemates were going to be livid. He was such a fucking prat. Why did it have to be him she was so attracted to? She spun on her heel, grabbed her backpack and stalked from the class.

“I’ll see you after curfew tonight, Miss Granger,” the Potions Master said, too softly for the departing witch to hear. “Then we’ll discuss your ‘dream’ further.”

*****************************
A/N: I sense some heat up ahead. I can't bring myself to call what these two do, lemons. Please review.