She paced frantically in the hall. She had tried to get his attention all year to no avail. She wasn't officially a student, so if she was going to do this before leaving Hogwarts and possibly never seeing him again. Well, the time was now. She didn't want to wait until the very end of her time here. She wanted more than just a one-night stand. So, she had to have more time with him.

She'd found a potion in a book in the Restricted Section that would supposedly allow the taker to enter into someone else's dreamscape. It hadn't worked! And she knew she brewed the potion correctly. So, either he was too stubborn to dream for her like any breathing man would have to do. Or the potion didn't work. The book she found was old, so it was possible it was outdated. Perhaps he was able to … block such a potion's effects. He was an expert at both occlumency and legilimency. Who knew what else he could do?

She hadn't thought of that until after she brewed and took the potion.

Stupid not to think of that and research the efficacy of the potion when the desired subject could block people from their minds more than just capably.

Tonight, though.

As she felt the need to study drawing to a close, she took that to mean she was on the verge of being ready to sit her NEWTs. Ronald and Harry weren't here to distract her. They were busy with auror training things tonight. Luna and Ginny were busy preparing for their NEWTs, so the three of them met in Hermione's room on occasion to take a break for an hour or two.

She just knew this was going to be one of her last chances to do this. If she wanted a chance for more with him anyway. The summer would come. Her seventh year would be over. And, well, she would be too far away from here to have feelings . She didn't think she'd find these feelings elsewhere, so wanted to pursue them.

She knew just the thought of what she asked for was making her blush, but she was going to do this. From what Winky told her, he was sleeping in his rooms in the castle. So, he wasn't doing rounds or working in his lab. These days, it seemed anyway, he didn't do rounds as much. Being headmaster, he wouldn't have to, though, he still did them. She suspected it was more to ensure no one was getting into the castle than him being concerned about students being up to mischief. He seemed to spend the hours he'd usually reserved for that in his lab.

She shed her robe as she crawled onto the bed the Room of Requirement provided her. She boldly bought the nightie over Easter holidays, certain she'd never have the chance to wear it. She wanted to, tough. Badly. She positioned herself, tugging the hem of the lingerie down a bit so it covered her thighs and ensuring her breasts were covered.

She was ready.

Here went nothing.

****

Severus woke with a start, drawn to his bathroom, though he didn't need to use the facilities and had no need for a shower as he'd taken one earlier that night.

Once there, he had no idea what was happening. He felt as if he was, if not in a trance, certainly not in control of his faculties at the moment. He got a glass of water at the sink, glancing into the mirror only after he'd taken a sip or two.

Was he coming down with something? He couldn't afford that now. He knew Hermione Granger was close to being prepared to sit her NEWTs. That meant he'd have to be in peak shape because he would have to administer the lot of them.

Very little startled Severus Snape these days. Really. He'd seen and done too much for much of anything to surprise him.

He looked away quickly, certain it was a trick. That he was overtired. His libido playing tricks on him. That merely … thinking of the witch caused this.

No. He was truly in his bathroom.

His bathroom.

He looked again into the mirror above his sink and countertop area.

To the image of Hermione Granger laying on a bed in what looked to be a dark green lingerie.

He had noticed more than once this year that she had grown into an attractive and capable witch. The intelligence had always been there, the rest just finally caught up to her, it seemed. That cheeky grin she gave to Potter and Weasley when they visited her from London made parts of him … intrigued. (And, all right, somewhat aroused, because there was something … sensual about that look whether she intended it to be so or not.) While she was now nineteen, she was still a student, someone's education he was in charge of. And Harry Potter's best friend. Not to mention that he was a little busy trying to ensure no one got the upper hand and killed him as a result of his duplicity.

Well, that is to say, he'd acknowledge the attraction and stuffed it away where everything went he didn't want to think about.

As if she'd reciprocate and not laugh him off of the earth if she knew.

So, to see … her in his mirror, looking very inviting.

Well, it had to be a dream. An illusion. Something.

He closed his eyes, checking his occlumency shields. They were in place.

Except.

Well, there was something … familiar and non-threatening there that wasn't usually. That it got through, not just his shields but those in place here in the headmaster's quarters, was impressive.

Or frightening.

He chose to be impressed.

His eyes flew open when he heard a soft feminine gasp just in time to witness her sliding the tip of a finger along the edge of her nipple through the lingerie. Evidently, she liked that. The erectness of her peaks as well as the gasp told him so.

Merlin help him, he liked it, too.

Very much.

The polite thing to do…

Well, that was thrown out the window when she slid a hand lower over her breasts and torso, to her hips. There, she tugged on the hem of the nightie.

Up.

Up.

Exposing her thighs ever so slightly with each tug as it went.

She wore nothing under the nightie, something he was able to see plain as day once it was even with her hips. He wouldn't deny he'd wondered more than once what was under the denims she wore. She wore robes, but was no longer required to wear a uniform even if she was still affiliated with Gryffindor. Her tops were always … appropriately conservative as he and Minerva requested of her.

She slid the tip of her finger through the curls between her legs, tracing a path along her mons, giving an audible gasp as her other hand (he only just now thought to look to see what the other hand was doing and, Merlin, he was going to hell for giving into the temptation and looking) cupped her breast through the nightie.

His hand found its way inside his pajama bottoms, taking hold of his shaft, and sliding the waistband of the bottoms lower so he was able to spring free as her fingers between her legs inched lower from her mons to circle her clit.

Wherever she was.

Whatever this was.

He had a perfect view of her. If they were face to face, he'd likely be rather embarrassed.

As it was, he might have been embarrassed, but he was hard and couldn't remember the last time he'd had the need (or desire) to do this. He'd wondered if that meant he was to live out his life feeling … nothing.

He reached for the mirror with one hand, deciding at the last minute he didn't want to touch it and risk … ending whatever this was. So he grabbed onto the marble countertop instead to ground him as he stroked his shaft, feeling moisture at his tip. He closed his eyes for a moment, using the pad of his thumb to rub the leaked fluid over his shaft, imagining for a moment that it was her hand doing it instead of his own.

She groaned loudly, as if she knew what he'd just been thinking about.

Maybe she did.

Finally, her fingers slid to her lower lips, parting them enticingly. Her fingers glistened as she grazed her labia so she was obviously aroused from this. Doing this. For him.

"Yes," she cried out, as if answering his question.

All right then. Time to test that theory.

"Slide a finger lower then."

She gave one of her cheeky smiles, evidently proud of herself. He'd think about that later. Using her free hand to lift the negligee up so he had a very nice view of her body.

"Like this," she murmured, grazing her finger along her labia lips just under her nub, lower. Dipping her finger into her entrance and drawing it away, wiping it against her inner thigh so he could see the evidence of her arousal there.

"Yes," he hissed, gripping the countertop tightly, his knuckles whitened to the point of discomfort, wanting to prolong his excitement. Adult male or not, it wasn't every day any man was presented with …this. He was pretty sure, for all his posturing about his experiences, Draco would be passed out by now.

"Not my type," she said.

"No?" he asked.

He knew he was not. She was (no surprise) the only one to return this year with conditions . She was able to sit in on any of the seventh year classes she wanted to, but it was not mandatory. Unlimited access to the library. All areas of it. She would be able to sit her NEWTs and get credit for all seven years when she was ready. If that was October or June, or sometime in between made no difference. There were quite a few seventh year wizards who noticed what Severus had since her return to Hogwarts.

She was a very appealing witch.

"And here I thought you liked my mind."

He scoffed. "Indeed, I do. That is not all that I've noticed enough to appreciate lately."

She … liked that statement. They'd talked more than occasionally since she'd sought him out with her conditions for returning to Hogwarts. In addition to the fact he liked talking with her (he was sure she was as shocked by that turn as he was), he wanted to ensure she was aware of all of her options post-Hogwarts. So they met regularly to see where her mind was taking her that week. He had no idea how he knew she liked it because he wouldn't say he had gotten to know her very well despite those frequent visits (that more than just Albus' portrait chuckled at him about because they were not necessary ), but the feeling of … pleasure that washed through him was coming from her not him.

She slid her finger inside of her now, groaning softly as one was joined by a second. She spread them apart ever so slightly, letting him see into her entrance. Who knew that would appeal to him this much? Her other hand was caressing her breasts, stroking the aroused nipples with her thumb as she wiggled her hips in a very enticing way.

Her fingers between her legs slid in and out of her, almost obscenely wet now. She alternated between sliding her fingers into her deep and plunge-like, hard and fast and pulling her finger almost completely out, thrusting just the tip of her finger in slow, shallow, toying with the nerves along the entrance.

His strokes along his shaft were getting faster, harder, his mind no longer wanting to play around with whether or not he'd achieve an orgasm. He wanted to know when.

"Severus," she called out as he finally reached with his free hand, touching the mirror that seemed to be the catalyst to this experience.

Could she see him?

"No," she murmured.

"Mm," he replied, causing her to laugh softly.

"I'd like to. You're touching yourself, too? I can sense your … excitement. You're close?"

"I am."

"Finish, Severus," she whispered. "Tell me what your hand looks like covered in your cum."

"Merlin," he whispered.

"Mm, no, he's not here," she said, cheekily.

Her fingers started moving faster inside of her, and stroking her clit, almost as if she wanted to finish with him.

"Yes," she hissed.

"Well, then, Witch, what are you waiting for?" He glanced at her face, noticing she was biting her lip. "Let me hear you, Hermione."

Her gasps and groans echoed his, forcing himself to continue watching her instead of closing his eyes.

"Fuck," he cried out, finishing when he saw her give a nipple a light pinch, which led to her completion almost immediately after his own.

Her deep, panting-like breaths echoed his. That had been very welcome, and immensely needed.

"I'm glad," she said.

She slid her hand out from between her legs, sliding them in an enticingly teasing manner up along her torso, over her breasts, and neck until she brought them to her mouth. If he hadn't already finished, watching her lick her fingers would likely have done the trick.

"Tell me," she said.

"Well, it's been a while, so there is what I would say is a bit more than normal. It's white, a bit translucent in some places on my hand. Jam-like texture maybe in others," he murmured. Never having to … describe such a thing before, he wasn't sure he ever looked very closely. "Warm at first."

"Have you ever … tasted?"

"No," he said. That never … interested him. He wasn't jerking off to be erotic. It was a means to an end.

"Would you?"

It was difficult to say … no to a witch who had just masturbated in front of him. Well, sort of in front of him. And encouraged him to do the same while watching her. He dipped a finger to the hand still encircling his shaft.

He closed his eyes and brought his finger to his mouth. It was … "Not offensive," he murmured. "A little bitter, salty maybe?"

He shook his head at the questioning tone he used. As if she would know.

"Mm, thank you."

He'd sure like knowing she did know, though. That led to a wicked smile on her part, so he hadn't … thought anything offensive.

"It seemed the least I could do."

She laughed then, shifting on the bed. He knew she wasn't in her room. She had her own (part of her conditions) because she was not bound by a curfew as others were, but this did not look like the room Hogwarts provided her with.

Further movement until she was on her hands and knees, facing away from him. Merlin, her arse was as enticing as the rest of her.

And she liked that thought, even going so far as wiggling it a bit, causing him to groan. He wasn't sure if it was her letting her know she liked these thoughts of his, or whatever was at work here. Either way, he welcomed it.

"Want to feel it?"

"Yes," he hissed. He caught himself. Of age or not…

"I am not officially a student," she said.

"True."

"You're not my professor."

"Also true," he said.

"Go to the Room of Requirement and ask to find me."

She turned her head, glancing at him over her shoulder. She looked … contemplative. Not unhappy, but definitely thinking something.

"What?" he asked, certain this was a trap. A trick of some sort.

"Well, you said it'd been a while, now I'm sort of sorry we wasted it on your hand."

He snorted. "I think there's plenty more where that came from."

"Prove it."

"On my way."

~The End~

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com