What He Wants

A/N: I would like to thank my betas Phoenix Burning and Estrilda Estrilda for making this story readable.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this so far...
Firewall: Glad you find it interesting
GaiaAthena: Thanks so much... actually I have a bit of it done already and will post it until I have none left... at which time I will get off my duff and write more.
Cristie: Glad you love it
DDMalfoy: Well... It's not finished per say... but it has always been my intent to do so, but there is a new chapter after the origonal 6 that will go up depending on the response I recieve on AFF

Also to all those who have read this story on Ashwinder... Please note that I have revised it a bit. I wanted to clear up some of the things that were bothering me.


Of all his classes, he could deal with this one most easily. Only seven of the current crop of utter rot the Headmaster insisted on calling a student body had managed to make it into his N.E.W.T. level curriculum, including her. They were, admittedly, a bright bunch, requiring little of his time, and capable of following his more basic of instructions. As such, it left him with most of the class time with little to do.

He glanced up in her general direction at the back of the room. Her shoulders had finally relaxed from the tense state she had held them upon first entering the room. She, no doubt, had expected him to strike the moment she came in. That was hardly a Slytherin move, and particularly unworthy of the Head of said House.

No, he would wait until she was completely unaware, and then move in for the kill.

He waited another forty-five minutes.



*****


Class had started in typical Snape fashion. He had barked orders, made most of the students nervous, and ignored her for the most part.

He didn't even try to make eye contact with her.

It seemed his only interest had been in locating her at the back of the room as he took the role.

In the beginning, this had upset Hermione to a certain extent, and she began to wonder if he had changed his mind between lunch and the start of class. That didn't fit though, and if she had learned anything about the man, it was that he didn't let go of an idea once it was in his head.

It never occurred to her that he might be lulling her into a false sense of security. If it had, she might have never shrugged off the feeling that he had some form of torment in mind for her. As it was, she had gotten over it, and allowed herself to become lost in the process of brewing her potion.

She failed to notice when he had taken to stalking the room.

She watched the pale yellow concoction swirling merrily in her cauldron as she stirred it methodically. Her mind was busy listing the steps that were still to come as she reached for an uncorked bottle of bicorn horn with her free hand.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

The words poured over her senses like sleep-warmed silk, even as she startled at his sudden nearness.

"Gods," she hissed softly, as her heart tapped out a wild beat against her ribcage. The hand that held the bottle trembled visibly, and she watched with a hypnotic fascination as long, tapered fingers covered hers gently.

"Careful, Miss Granger," he drawled in that deep, melodic way that reduced her senses to a pool of feminine goo. "I would hate to see you ruin a perfectly acceptable potion because of an . . . unsteady hand."

She was torn between the heart-felt sigh that wanted to escape her lips, and the righteous indignation that she felt over the fact that he was the one that had reduced her to such a state. She sorely wanted to mention that to him, but decided it might offer him more ammo than he really needed at this point. It also made her question the wisdom of isolating herself at the back of the class.

"Of course, Professor," she replied, doing her best to sound more controlled than she felt.

She felt his lips press lightly into the crook of her neck, then blaze a trail of pure fire to the place just behind her ear.

She could not suppress the shiver that shot up her spine.

"Let me help you with that," he whispered against the small patch of flesh at which he had paused as he raised her hand, and subsequently the phial, to her cauldron.

He tapped her fingers with his, releasing just enough of the ingredient into the potion.

"Perfect," he murmured softly, as he made her set the phial down, and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her firmly against his body.

It seemed wholly unfair that he would so openly do these things to her, in class no less, and she found herself again wishing that she had a better repartee.

Then again...

"Tell me, Professor, is this, the bewitching the mind part?" she asked, doing her best to sound sultry.

She felt him smirk against her neck, then place a light kiss there.

"I rather thought I was ensnaring the senses, Miss Granger," he purred, his velvet voice caressing against her skin, and again she found herself shivering.

"That too," she offered a bit breathlessly. She leaned into him more fully despite her best efforts to do otherwise.

He wrapped his other arm around her, and pulled her in to a tight embrace.

"Stay with me after class."

It wasn't a command, but almost a plea, and for the first time she realized how much of himself he was putting out there, when she had offered him virtually nothing in return. Still, the idea of being alone with him made her more than a bit nervous.

"Severus..." Somehow, she had managed to infuse all of her doubts into that one word, and he hushed her before she could decline his request.

"Please don't say 'no'," he implored. "I just want to talk with you."

"Just talk?" she asked, though she sounded more skeptical than she intended.

"Well, maybe a bit more," he said. "I do so long to hold you, Hermione, to kiss you, and touch you, but I will promise not to force you into a situation which is unwanted or for which you are unprepared"

Did she still want those things from him?

Undeniably, yes. Maybe talking to him about her uncertainties would make them go away, or at least seem less daunting. Would he understand? He did seem to, to an extent anyway. Of course, he didn't know the extent of her fears.

Talking might not be such a bad idea. If she received just a little of his attention before he decided she wasn't worth the effort, then all the better.

"Yes, I'll stay," she answered firmly.



*****



It took nearly everything he had not to slump against her with relief. She had consented to stay, even knowing that he wanted to be intimate with her. Whatever it was that held her in fear, and he knew she was afraid, he would strip away until desire was the only thing left.

Tonight, she would get her first lesson, and he would teach her everything she needed to know.

He squeezed her once more, and nuzzled her neck. "Good," he said softly as he breathed her in.



*****



He watched her jump at the sound of his voice when he instructed the class to bring forth their potion samples, which inevitably signaled the end of class.

The part of him that enjoyed instilling fear into the unsuspecting smirked at her action. There was a fine line between fear and arousal, and if played properly, they could blend seamlessly into one overpowering reaction. He planned to play her like a Stradivarius. He would wind her taunt, then pluck her delicate strings until she sang with desire.

He just needed to touch her.

He needed to be alone with her do that though, and the rest of the class seemed to be lingering about far too much.

Time to move things along.

"Get out of here, all of you. . . ," he barked out harshly, and watched with amusement as everyone made a mad scramble for the dungeon door. "I don't want to see any of you again till Monday," he muttered as an after thought, and the closest he could come to pleasantries on a Friday.

She, of course, stayed behind.

He shuffled a few rolls of parchment around on his desk before glancing up at her through the bangs of his hair.

"I hope I wasn't included in that last statement," she said with a shy grin as she began to make her way to the front of the room.

"I think you know better than that," he replied softly, then flung his hair to the side so that he could watch her more openly.

"Well... with you, Professor, one can never tell."

He snorted lightly. "Fair enough."

Once she stood in front of him, there was an odd sort of moment were he felt as if he didn't know how to proceed. (As though he hadn't been planning this very moment all day.) He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted just to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless for the rest of the afternoon, evening, weekend. The rest of his life. It was strangely paralyzing to have her right there, and want her so much, and to know that she would respond favorably to his actions.

"What now?" she asked in a low, throaty tone that seemed to tear him loose from whatever had held him so still.

"This." And with that, he pulled her tightly against him, and kissed her deeply and desperately and with out preamble.

She pulled away from him after a moment of returning his kiss with equal intensity.

"As appealing as this is, I really do wish to talk with you," she said, after a moment of air gulping.

"Appealing enough to continue at a later time?"

He tried not to sound as insecure as he felt in that moment. Talking was never conducive to passion, and while he was interested in what she had to say, he was still a bit nervous that she would come to her senses enough to realize him for what he was.

A lecherous old bat.

"If you're still interested after a talk, then yes, this can definitely continue later."

That was promising. At least she still seemed interested.

"Shall we adjourn to my office then?" He made a sweeping gesture with his arm in the general area behind his classroom desk.

She nodded nervously in response and led them to the door that would lead to the next room.

He could tell she didn't care much for the idea of proceeding him, but he never let anyone, not even her walk even a mere pace behind him.

Left over paranoia, no doubt.

Still, the view was admirable.

"Tea?" he asked absently, as he studied the rounded form of her bottom. It truly was a fine arse.

"Yes, that would be good."

The nervous stammer that accompanied her words brought his attention back into focus. There was a clarifying moment where he felt very much like the Big Bad Wolf leading Little Red Ridinghood off the beaten path.

Not too far from the truth.

"Sit Hermione," he said in the tone that he knew affected her the most. "I promise not to... devour you."

The unspoken 'Yet' hung heavy in the air.

She tittered lightly, and wrung her hands nervously in her lap after she seated herself rather abruptly on the small divan, in front of his desk. (Not his typical office fair, but a small concession to her continued presence for after hours chats. It had been her only complaint in the beginning, 'no place comfortable to sit'.)

The sight of her nervousness caused a sudden swelling of protectiveness to ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her from harm, and by the looks of it, he was the one in danger of causing the most. It was a struggle to find a balance between his desire for her and the need to keep her safe.

He set about the task of brewing tea, deciding that this would be a good time to allow her to collect herself, and give him something to focus on besides the strong need to just - ravish her senseless.

"I need to say something." The sudden sound of her voice echoing in the previously still air caused him to freeze his movements altogether.

He knew from experience, nothing good ever came from those words.

"Of course," he offered lightly, gesturing for her to continue with an open palm.

"Please know that it's not you." He groaned inwardly, and tried not to roll his eyes. Anything but the 'It's Not You' speech. "And I am wildly attracted to you, but-"

Wildly attracted? Was she really attracted to him? What else mattered as long as she desired him? Nothing much as far as he was concerned, but there was a 'but'.

"Yes?" he prompted, as he unconsciously leaned towards her.

"I don't think you would be pleased with me in the long run. I think I would only disappoint you."

She gave him a significant look, and it took him a moment to figure out why she would think such a thing. She exceeded every expectation he ever had of her, surely...

Then it occurred to him.

"Why do you think this?" he asked, his hands automatically pouring the tea he had made without thought.

He sat next to her, and offered her a cup, which she took with the same dazed look he was feeling.

"I'm not completely without experience; though it's not a lot I'll admit." He watched as she studied the liquid in her cup for a moment. "But I was told that I was rather like trying to be intimate with an old, wet dish cloth."

Her cheeks blossomed into a becoming shade of pink at her admission, but he found himself less than enthralled by the sight.

Who would tell her such a thing?

Was this why she was so scared?

"Have you considered that the person who told you this simply didn't know how to elicit a... response from you?"

He hooked her chin with his finger, and tilted her face towards his.

"What if I'm not capable of responding?" she countered as she met his eyes for the first time since lunch.

He stroked her bottom lip lightly with his thumb and noted with satisfaction her sharp intake of air as her mouth parted as though poised for the perfect kiss.

"Highly unlikely," he murmured, almost absently, as he brought her mouth closer to his.



*****



She watched until his features blurred from his closeness, then felt his lips do that, slow, maddening caress against her lips. She opened to him at once, needing to feel that deep pressure that pounded in her belly whenever his tongue would swoop in and tangle with her own. It made her blood boil, and her heart beat a singular, primal rhythm against her eardrums. He made her feel consumed, and whole all at the same time.

It was true that her brief fumble with a drunken Ron, who had only kissed her on a dare, felt nothing like Severus' kisses. And Ron, whose kiss should have thrilled her at the time, had been a harsh disappointment. She couldn't even consider it a real first kiss. Ron had insisted that the lack of passion was her fault. Now, however, she was beginning to realize that just maybe, it had nothing to do with her at all.

The man currently kissing her senseless didn't seem to have a problem making her feel something. Making her burn with an unnamed need that only seemed to grow the more he touched her.

Was this passion?

If it wasn't, she was certain that she could live with whatever it was.

"Tell me what you are feeling Hermione," he whispered softly against her mouth.

She was feeling so many things. She wanted to tell him about the swirling sensations that ignited her from head to toe.

"I feel like I'm on fire," was the answer she settled on.

"Hmm... Sounds like you're responding just fine to me," he said with a slight smirk. "And you certainly don't feel like an old dish rag, wet or otherwise."

She threw her arms around his neck, and drew him back to her waiting lips, and for the first time in her life, she kissed with intent. She wanted to show him what his words meant to her, what his actions were coming to mean.

Would he be willing to show her more?

Could he tell her why her body felt like it was climbing a fiery ladder, that only took her higher and higher. Would he be there to catch her when she flung herself from the dizzy heights just so she could once again walk the earth?

"I want more," she said breathless against his cheek. "I don't know what it is I want, but I have to have more."

He pulled back from her, and placed gentle, yet restraining hands on her shoulders.

"I will give you all you want and more, Hermione, but I still want to talk with you for awhile. Perhaps we can talk over dinner?"

She could tell by his tone he was up to something.



*****



He was up to something, and if she had asked directly, he probably would have told her the truth.

Now all he had to do was eat a sensible dinner, and manage to talk with her without pouncing in the interim.

He had her right where he wanted her.

She had brought herself to a full boil just from kissing him, now it was time to cut back on the heat and just let her... stew.




*****
tbc