A Yearning

“I can’t believe that bastard gave you detention again,” Ron cried, looking across the table at Hermione. “You didn’t even do anything wrong. I saw what happened; Snape was standing way too close to you, no doubt trying to scare you. All you did was take a step back. It was completely his fault.”

“Thanks, Ron. Unfortunately, when I tried to tell him that after you guys had left, he threatened me with another week of detention.”

“I always knew Snape was a snarky bastard,” Harry said, giving Hermione an ‘I-know-how-you-feel’ look. “At least you don’t have to carve ‘I must not tell lies’ into the back of your hand. I’d give cleaning cauldrons over that any day.”

“Oh, Harry, I completely forgot about that. That loathsome woman and her cruel punishment…I wanted to hex her so badly,” Hermione said, her voice full of spite.

“Don’t worry about it. What’s done is done. What you need to worry about is how you’re going to survive another week of detention. Do you think the dreams will continue?”

Hermione’s face blushed as she recalled her most recent dream. “I hope not. I don’t think I can take anymore of them.” And that was the truth.

Noticing the time, Hermione began to pack up her books. She looked at Harry and Ron. “I have Ancient Runes in an hour, so I’m going to the library until then. I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

………………………………………………………………

Snape had not wanted to give her detention; he knew she had not done anything wrong. But the prospect of being alone with her in his dungeon was too alluring to pass up. Not to mention his reputation of being a bastard was at stake if his students began to think he was going soft.
But now he had more important things to think of. He had just given himself the opportunity to spend a week with the girl, alone, at night, in his dungeon. Cleaning cauldrons was no longer a worthy option – he needed something that would guarantee him the ability of being able to talk to her…watch her. And he had the perfect idea.

……………………………………………………………...

“You may enter, Miss Granger.”

Hermione stalked into the classroom, civility non-existent in her cold demeanor. She turned and glared at Snape. He smirked at her.

“Tonight you will not be cleaning cauldrons. Tonight you will help me grade papers.”

Hermione’s mouth fell open in disbelief. No cauldrons? No scrubbing? No hard labor?

“Miss Granger, please close your mouth before the flies begin to think you are offering them a home.”

Hermione snapped her mouth shut, her eyes still staring at him. “Professor, I don’t think I can grade…”

“Miss Granger,” he said, cutting her off, “If you would please refrain from speaking for the moment, I will have time to explain. A spell has been cast over the essays and parchments so you do not know whose paper you are grading. Now, you will sit there and grade while I sit here and grade. I do not want to hear a word out of you unless I speak to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Professor,” she said, nodding her head.

“Then I suggest you get to work,” he said, his gaze leaving her and concentrating on the parchment in front of him. Much to his relief, his hair had fallen over his shoulders, hiding his face from her…and hiding the rather large smirk forming upon his lips.

Hermione looked at him for a few moments trying to figure out why the punishment had been changed. She had no problem with grading papers, but why? Why had it changed so quickly? Falling into her chair, she decided not to try to understand the elusive potions master. He must have had too much work to do.

\'Typical…get someone else to do your work. Nice decision, Professor. I have to give you points on delegation techniques.\'

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Snape had been watching her the entire time. He had found it hard to resist the temptation to look into her mind – hear her every thought, her every dream…her every desire. She had not looked at him the whole evening, her focus unwavering and never leaving the parchments in front of her. Studying his obsession, he had learned even more about her. Hermione Granger was one hell of a student. She couldn’t sit still for more than five minutes at a time, her body tensing up every time she read something she liked, didn’t like or simply was not happy with. It was almost as if she entered her own world where nothing except the paper and herself were the only things present. Snape was impressed; he had thought he was the only person to have tendencies like that. Once again, Hermione Granger and Severus Snape had something in common.

Snape glanced at the clock on his desk noticing it was 10:30 pm. Both student and teacher had lost track of time in their own pursuits – Hermione grading papers and Snape watching her work. Not wanting to lose her so soon, he knew he would never hear the end of it if Minerva knew he had kept a student a half hour over the allotted time of a regular detention. He cleared his throat.

“Miss Granger?”

Hermione seemed to not hear him, her head still low and her eyes darting back and forth over the paper in front of her.

“Miss Granger?”

There still was no response from the bushy haired Gryffindor. Realizing he was never going to get her attention by just saying her name, Snape stood up and walked toward her, stopping right in front of the desk. “Miss Granger?” he said, a little louder than he had intended. At the sound of her name, Hermione jumped out of shock, looking around frantically, her eyes soon falling upon the overbearing man in front of her.

“Professor Snape?”

“Miss Granger, it is 10:30. It seems we have both lost track of time. You are free to go.”

“Oh…okay. But can’t I finish this paper before I leave? I’m in the middle of it and there are so many misspellings…”

“Miss Granger, leave,” he said, cutting her off mid-sentence and motioning toward the door.

Looking taken aback, Hermione quickly scrambled out of the chair and dashed out of the dungeon. Snape watched her exit, unable to fathom why he had yelled at her. No, he knew why he had yelled. Never in his life had he wanted to go to sleep, but tonight he wanted nothing more than to fall into the black abyss that was the dream world. And hopefully the dream world would grant him with images of his Gryffindor obsession and himself in the most unorthodox of positions upon his bed, his erect cock being driven into the submissive, moaning woman who had just left his classroom.

………………………………………………………………

“Are you all right Hermione?” Ginny asked her, noticing that her friend looked over worked and a little tense.

“Yes, why do you ask, Ginny?” Hermione replied, taking a sip from her orange juice.

“You look a little tired.”

“I am. Professor Snape’s detentions have not been helping. I’m happy that I don’t have to clean cauldrons but I’m starting to get carried away with grading and he seems to forget the time each night and I keep heading back to my room later and later. Last night I didn’t get back until 12 am.”

“You were grading papers for four hours?” Ginny asked her unable to believe anyone could spend that long reading essays. But then she remembered it was Hermione Granger she was talking to.

“Yeah, I got so carried away and I didn’t notice what time it was and he didn’t notice either. I just hope I don’t have to stay so long tonight. I would like some rest.”

“Well, it’s a good thing it’s Thursday and tomorrow is Friday and then you have the weekend. Hopefully you won’t get any more detentions.”

“I’m hoping I don’t either.” And I’m hoping those damn dreams would hurry up and pass.

\'As much as I’ve come to enjoy them, they certainly have an effect on one’s sleep patterns.\'

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The dungeon was cold, Snape hadn’t looked up in almost an hour and Hermione was finding it very hard to keep her eyes open, let alone concentrate at all. The lack of sleep she had been experiencing was finally catching up with her and Hermione knew it. Letting out a large yawn, she propped her head up on her hand, her elbow bent upon the table holding up her arm and head. But as she stared at the small words in front of her, the Gryffindor’s eyes began to close and her head fell from her hand and landed with an unceremoniously loud ‘thud’ against the table, motionless as sleep took her…

………………………………………………………………

......She was in the dungeon, sitting at the table she had been before. Essays and parchments were strewn all about while a large quill lay prostrate across the table. Hermione looked across the room and spied Snape staring at her though the long curtains of his black, greasy mane.

A deep, burning feeling of want inside her, she was shocked when she felt her body rise up from her seat and walk toward him. As she approached, she could hear her breathing become ragged and labored. She walked to him, circling his desk and stopped beside his chair, her eyes never leaving his.
He turned his body to look at her, his hair falling back out of his eyes. Taking in her scent, he could feel the animal instincts within him stir and in response grabbed her and pulled her to him.

Straddling his waist, Hermione watched as Snape’s head fell back and his eyes closed as she began to grind herself into his lap. She knew the answer to her question – he was ready and waiting for her. Grabbing her hips, Snape pushed her down into him, the sensation of her body rubbing against his own driving him crazy.

She had not taken her eyes off his and when he looked at her, he could tell she was ready and willing for whatever was to come.

Hermione had never felt so aroused in her life, feeling her arousal drip down onto her panties. Hearing the deep moans coming from the man beneath her, she wanted him and she wanted him now. Stripping herself of her robe, jumper and tie, she began to slowly unbutton her blouse, watching Snape’s eyes widen as she let the garment fall to the floor beside her, her bra following soon afterward.

Unable to control himself any longer, Snape picked her up and sat her on the desk, essays and parchment crashing to the ground as he sloppily tried to clear the space. Finding her lips in one swift movement, Snape claimed them as his own in a greedy, passionate kiss.

Laying soft kisses on her moistened, burning skin, the Head of Slytherin House moved slowly down her body, rejoicing when he found the peaks of her hard, erect breasts. Taking a swollen nub into his mouth, he reveled in the soft moans that sprang from Hermione’s mouth as he flicked the rosy nipple with his tongue.

“Professor!” she called out, feeling his hands against her bent knees, pushing them as far apart as they’d go and shoving her skirt up out of the way. Unable to utter another word as Snape’s mouth covered her own, Hermione nearly jumped off the desk when she felt his hand gently glide up her right thigh and begin massaging the area between her legs. Her own eyes rolling back into her head, she did not protest when she felt Snape remove her shoes, tights and panties.

“More…oh Gods more,” she moaned, feeling her obsession pull her legs up over his shoulders, his mouth still entertaining the swollen buds of her breasts. Giving her swollen lips one last kiss, Snape drove his head down between her legs, bathing in her scent and her newfound taste.

“Professor!” she moaned as she felt his tongue flick over her swollen, sensitive nub. Grinning to himself, Snape continued to pleasure her mound as he slipped one, then two and yet one more finger into her hot, wet cunt. Tangling her hands into his greasy hair, Hermione pressed his head into her, wanting her release, wanting to feel her muscles tighten around his long, wonderfully knowledgeable fingers and then around his long, thick cock.

“Severus!” she cried as her body began to buck from the sensations taking over her weak form. She knew it wouldn’t be long before it would take her completely......

………………………………………………………………

Before she knew what was happening, Hermione woke up, her eyes widening when she realized where she was. Snape was looking up at her, his head between her thighs while Hermione’s legs were draped over his shoulders; their bodies fully clothed yet their position exactly like that in the dream. Neither could say a word.

“Were we dreaming the same thing?” Hermione whispered when she finally found her voice. Snape slowly nodded his head.

Realizing he still had her legs draped over his shoulders, he quickly took a step back, letting her limbs fall to the side of the desk. He studied her closely, still unable to say anything.

“Have you been having dreams lately?” she asked him.

“About being in the dungeon?” he asked her in return, his voice hardly audible.

Hermione nodded her head.

“Yes.”

“We’ve been having the same dreams,” she said quietly.
“It seems so,” he said.

Hermione looked down at her legs, realizing they were still spread and quickly pulled them together. She didn’t know what to do. She had basically been doing her Potions Professor in her dreams. And yet, they weren’t only her dreams – he had been having the same thoughts as well. When she looked up, he was staring at her.

“Professor, I don’t know what to…”

In an instant Snape was on her, his mouth fervently kissing her own. His mouth never leaving hers, he tore off her robe, jumper and tie while Hermione’s hands went to the clasp on his trousers, unbuttoning them and hastily pushing them down, only to reveal the little fact that Severus Snape wore nothing underneath his pants as his throbbing, erect cock immediately came into view. Wrapping her hand around it, Hermione began to massage the swollen mass, paying particular attention to the large vein close to the base. Snape immediately moaned, pushing himself into her hand, wanting to release, wanting to be within her, knowing soon he would come.

Gaining his senses, Snape quickly pushed her away regretfully, pulling his pants up as he backed away from her, unable to hide his even harder, glistening penis.

“No, we can’t,” he said, running a hand through the mess that was his hair, while his trousers hung loosley around his hips. He looked at Hermione. “We cannot do this,” he said again, backing further away from her, his body touching the wall behind him. He looked at her again. “Hermione, you need to leave…now.”

Nodding her head slowly, she slid off the table, grabbing her discarded clothes as she made her way out of the dungeon. Stopping at the door, she took one last glance at Snape, closed her eyes, let out a large sigh and left the dungeon closing the door quietly behind her.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he whispered to the empty room, regretting what he had just done…regretting the fact he let her walk away. Closing his eyes, he knew he would meet her again in his dreams. And yet, he was going to avoid them at all costs.