Perverted Potions

A/N: There were so many peeps that reviewed after the so called "chapter 9".
Thanks for your enouragement! I don't plan on ending this within a few more chapters,
at least I don't believe so. My store's closing so I'm being forced to work more than
I want to (which is why I am quitting, I need a break anyway. I've worked there for
2 1/2 yrs, why not?) College is definitely more than what I expected. And a lot of
little things happened like fixing my comp, the end of my relationship, saving a kitty
from being run over in a heavy traffic zone, homework assignments, etc. I know, I know,
useless excuses. But, seriously, I've been working on it slowly, but surely. I'm gonna
make sure I finish this for you guys, you've all been so wonderful to wait. And for those
of you I must let know, I only started writing PP to get a feel for writing lemons. It
just so happened that people actually enjoyed reading it. I plan on it getting hot and
heavy, but as for this chap and maybe the next not so much. So if it does turn out to be
a little tame when it's complete, then perhaps I'll change the rating. After all, it is
a work in progress. Anyway, here you go. The real Chapter 9.

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Chapter 9: Delusions...Tick...of...Tick...Grandeur...Tick...


The smell of grass and earth engulfed Hermione’s senses as a bird’s call echoed in the
distance. She found herself lying in the middle of a long, vast prairie bordered by a
dense forest. She squinted her eyes when the setting blood-red sun had managed to blind
her as she stirred. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes.


“What? Where the devil is my uniform?” she asked herself as she glanced down at her
attire: a silk lilac sundress… and only a silk lilac sundress. Hermione still
confused, began to examine her surroundings as apprehension sank in. Despite the beauty
of the landscape, she was still just another lost girl with no knickers and no wand.


The sky was a warm pink under the threat of nightfall as a cool violet encircled,
drowning the warmth. Hermione shuddered and clutched her arms. The grass in the
field was of the darkest green and barely reaching her shoulders. The long grass
rippled in waves as the breeze washed over her.


“It should be colder than this, it is November…” Hermione’s thought had trailed away
when billowing smoke rose from the other side of the forest caught her attention: a
sign of possible human life? Not wanting to waste another second, she picked herself
up and dashed to the edge in hopes of finding out what exactly happened.


“Argh, I don’t understand. I was sleeping on the couch, next thing I know, I wake up
in the middle of nowhere. If this is what happens when you masturbate with your partner
then I am never doing it again!” A thorn grazed along her forearm. “OH! Damn it, if
this is some prank Professor Snape is playing on me, I swear on Merlin’s dried up sac
I’ll kill him.”


Hermione vented to no one in particular as she trudged along in the heavy thicket
towards her destination. She cursed whenever she stubbed her toe on a trunk or stepped
on a jagged rock. The slowly-setting sun barely made its way through the trees limiting
Hermione’s sight, until finally; she could see a fire roaring through the darkness.
Growing nearer to the clearing next to the bank of a small river, she stopped herself
from yelling for help and instead observed her company.


“Hmm… All that is here is a fire,” Hermione said to herself. “Where could its maker be?”


There was no tent, just a log beside the fire. It had a pair of dark leather trousers
thrown across it alongside a cream-coloured blouse. Hermione’s ears perked when she
heard the distinct sound of splashing. Oh, what a sight.


“Amazing…”

Her mouth fell open to the sight of a beautifully built man. His long, dirty-blonde hair
cascaded over his broad, sun-kissed, muscled chest. The unknown man’s huge arms flexed
as his hands washed away dirt from his hard golden body. She couldn’t see his face due
to the fact it was hidden in the shadows, but if she didn’t know any better, it was most
likely Fabio.


“This almost looks like a cover for one of those romance novels,” Hermione whispered in
the shadows. Whenever she would go back home to see her parents, one of the places she
would always visit would be the bookstore. Hermione would skim through a few of the novels
and giggle at some of the passages, but was never bold enough to buy one.


The man began to move further down the stream.


If only I could get a little closer… Hermione thought as she leaned over the thicket
hiding her. Just a little bit more.


She unfortunately stepped on an especially jagged rock.


“OH!”


There goes a peeping Hermione.


“Merlin’s beard!” Hermione gasped as she felt thorns dig into her thin attire and graze
her side.


There goes the sundress.


‘Fabio’ stopped himself from washing after a loud ripping sound and a soft thud caught
his attention. Hermione sat up and lightly touched her raw-now-bare skin.


“Shit!” she whispered to herself in despair. Not only did she not have knickers in the
wilderness, but she tore the one thing protecting her body in order to do what? Peep.


“Great. Just perfect. The bloody thing has nearly been torn in half. Now I am going to
get ravaged for sure,” Hermione did a double- take on her choice of words. “Ravaged?
What the – Oh sh- ”


“It appears there is a Peeping Tom,” ‘Fabio’s heavily accented voice called out as he
stepped onto the bank. Hermione clung to her pathetic sundress and frantically looked around.


Maybe it won’t be so bad, Hermione thought to herself.


“If I should find a trapped little bird playing where it shouldn’t, I may have to punish it.”


Maybe not.


Deciding it would be better to face ‘Fabio’ head on; she hung tightly to her dress and
jumped out, her hair in disarray. At first, a nervous smile had occupied her face as
she hastily greeted her pursuer hidden in the shadows. And then she noticed he was nude.


“Oh…”


“My, my, what a pretty birdie I’ve found here,” he purred as he inched closer to Hermione,
his golden hand stretched out before her. Hermione found herself clutching the tattered
dress to her as anxiety built up in her chest more so than ever before. The face of ‘Fabio’
had finally emerged from the shadows.


“No,” Hermione rasped, “No, it cannot be. Not – not you!” Her eyes bulged as she looked
him over. “Not with a bloody body like that!”


“Hullo, my sweet,” the face of Argus Filch whispered before he lunged for Hermione, whom
had narrowly evaded his attack by jumping to the side and rolling towards the fire. She
reached for one of the logs and hefted it above her head. She struggled to keep her dress
in place with one hand and the blazing piece of lumber in the other.


The crackling of the embers and the cackling of Fabio-Filch echoed in the air as Hermione
searched for an escape route. Her eyes bounced to and fro frantically searching. Fabio-Filch
approached Hermione ever so slowly as his crazy eyes bulged out of his face. Then a distant
noise caught his attention, distant, but catching up quickly. He stopped and slowly looked
toward the awkward roaring, buzzing noise coming from behind the thicket. Slowly, he turned
his head, his eyes still in his otherwise twitching face.


For a brief moment, there was silence. Even Hermione had become attracted to the curious
noise. The two waited, patiently, soundlessly.

Hermione gasped, completely taken by surprise, as a slick black blur broke through the
thicket. The blur ran over Fabio-Filch so fast that he had no time to scream, let alone
react. The blur had come to a screeching halt, a trail of glistening, red blood following close.


What a harsh way to die; being run over while nude, Hermione cringed at the
thought. She tore herself away from the mangled body of Fabio-Filch and gazed at
her savior, who was seated on a jet black Harley Davidson.


“Holy shit.”


His back towards her, he was covered head-to-toe in leather – tight – black
leather, with small metal spikes adorning his trench coat, running along the outer
length of his arms. He kicked out the kickstand with his worn, metal-tipped, black
boots that poked out from beneath his leather pants and leaned with the slick bike.
He brought his leg over and turned curtly around causing the trench coat to whip around,
his lank, black velvet-like hair followed suit. Her savior stood as a black silhouette
in front of the blood-red sun and red, orange, hot pink backdrop of a sky. She squinted
but like before, his face was hidden in the shadows.


Hermione took a step towards the dark stranger, still clutching her tattered dress.
Good Gods, look at that chest, Hermione thought, at that stomach. It took
her a second to tear her eyes away from what the open trench coat did not hide. His chest
was peppered with black hair that met together to make a trail down his taut stomach.


Ok, ok, enough of that, that’s what got me into trouble in the first place, Hermione
reasoned. The closer she approached him, the more the shadows lifted from his face.
First a pointed chin; then thin, firm lips were revealed. A little more and a hooked
nose; and finally, his eyes, his deep, deep eyes had been exposed. Hermione shuddered
in relief and let out a deep breath.


“Severus…” She whispered almost in disbelief. She smiled and ran into her Professor’s
arms. Hermione pulled him to her tightly and laughed as tears streamed down. She held
him tighter as she felt his large hands accept her in an almost crushing embrace.
Hermione burrowed her face into his bare chest, breathing in his scent.


She looked up to him and locked onto his black eyes. A cool breeze disturbed the trees
causing leaves to fly by the motionless couple. Severus lowered his mouth as Hermione
slowly stood on the tip of her toes, her eyes watching his lips.


Now, Hermione was not quite sure if it was the heat of the moment, or an involuntary
action, but as she closed her eyes she whispered “I love you,” and awaited his
kiss in a hazy darkness.


The clock’s ticking disturbed the silence in the candle-lit room, which had inadvertently
awakened Snape. He could feel he was going to have a horrible crick in his neck for the
next couple of hours to come. “Blasted contemporary sofa,” he hissed as he rubbed
the back of his neck. Snape could barely fit lying down on the walnut Victorian sofa as
his feet dangled off the side.


Tick, tick, tick…


Wait a second, why am I sleeping down here in the first place, Snape thought to
himself, his eyes still closed due to the fact he was still affected by his drowsiness.
His long nose was tickled by something fuzzy that smelled of jasmine and noticed a warm
weight was pushed up against him, something he was previously – holding?


Tick, tick, tick…


Snape began to wonder if he should go through all the trouble to find out what it was
after he was certain he would not be able to shake off his sleepy haze.


Tick, tick, tick…


It’s probably nothing, he thought and threw his arm over the mass, that’s odd.
The warm mass snuggled up against him.


Tick, tick, tick…


“I love you…” the warm mass whispered.


Tick, tick, tick…


“Mm hmm,” Snape sleepily replied and snuggled closer.


His eyes flew open in horror as the clock chimed on the hour. It echoed in his ears
and his brow twitched with each chime. He remembered what happened the night before.
Now he knew why was sleeping on the tiny sofa; now he knew what the fuzzy, jasmine-smelling
thing belonged to; now he knew who the warm mass was – Hermione.


He pushed himself away from her thinking, How could I be so careless? He fell to
the floor not taking his eyes off of Hermione as if she were a rabid dog.


The disturbance on the sofa and in the room in general, had woken Hermione abruptly. She
looked at her surroundings puzzled, expecting to see trees and a shabby campfire. Instead
she found herself on a dark green Victorian sofa and her potions professor glaring at her
from the floor. She shook her head at him almost in disbelief as she saw anger contort
his hidden face.


“Get out…” Snape rasped. How could I let it come to this?


“What? What did I – ?” Hermione sputtered.


“GET OUT!!” His hair fell into his face as he shouted. What the bloody hell
am I doing?


Hermione’s eyes swelled with tears. She clutched her un-tucked shirt to herself and
ran away from Snape’s stony glare. She slammed the door shut to his classroom, saving
her tears until she was out of sight. Snape could hear her sobs echo through the confines
of his dark office. She doesn’t… does she?


Tick…


She can’t.


Tick…


She won’t.


Tick…


She never will.


Tick, tick, tick…


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A/N: Hope it was somewhat worth the wait. =)
I edited by trying to make the story a little less wide? So that some of you won't have to scroll
to the left and right to read.