DISCLAIMER: I don't own them and I do not profit. I just make them into very naughty little piggies.

A/N - Just a little smutty romp that's pretty much OOC for all parties, but I don't care. It was fun to write and I hope you have fun reading.

Enjoy,
Lady Tuesday

Serendipity

Hermione Granger bit her lower lip in concentration as she plied her quill to the piece of parchment in front of her. Her essay was nearly done, but her frustration was so keen after an hour and a half of a detention she didn't feel she deserved at all that her attention was certainly waning. She dared to glance up at the surly man at the front desk and scowled as his smirk deepened. He had been watching her almost religiously for the last hour.

Arrogant bastard, she thought acidly and put her quill back to the paper.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him get up and move to his private stores, busying himself with removing and arranging potion ingredients. With a tiny yelp of surprise, Hermione felt something brush against the exposed skin of her knee. Her eyes widened in surprise as Harry's crouched body appeared – and disappeared just as quickly – under his Invisibility cloak, which he was currently utilizing to hide beneath her desk.

"Sorry, Professor," she stammered nervously as the irritable Potions master glared across the room at her. Harry was brushing back her robes away from her legs. "I bumped my knee on the desk."

His eyes narrowed dangerously and flitted about the room briefly before he turned his back to her once again. She fought the hiccupping gasps of her breath as she felt thin fingers dancing across her ankles, delicately pulling down the fabric of her favorite knee socks. Hermione trembled just the tiniest bit as his hands began stroking the back of her calves.

With a well-timed cough, Hermione ripped a strip of parchment off the bottom of her scroll and hastily scribbled a note to Harry, which she dropped – along with a spare quill she had set out – into her lap. She could hear a muted chuckle as he reached up, grabbed the note and read.

What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing??!! she had scrawled in a decidedly shaky hand. She grimaced and furtively snuck his answering reply open in her lap.

Challenging your fortitude, Miss Smarty Pants he had jotted quickly.

Wanker.

Prude. She frowned deeply at his reply, but it hadn't stopped there. You've been saying that you've always wanted to repay Snape for 'screwing us out of points.' Well, here's your big chance … a little screwing of our own …

He wouldn't … they couldn't … she was in detention! Surely he didn't expect her to …

But as she felt him place a light, feathery kiss on the inside of her left ankle – that made her squirm in both fear and anticipation – she could see that he most certainly did expect her to engage in elicit activities during her supervised detention. A part of her wanted to reach under the table, slap him soundly, and continue on with her detention with Snape … but the other half was causing her heart to pound recklessly as his kisses were traveling up her leg.

Hermione felt as if her heart were stopping and starting, leaping and turning in wild measures. Harry's lips were traveling up … up … followed anxiously, restlessly by his lips and teeth, alternately licking and nibbling at her flesh, stopping to suck lightly at the crook of her knee. She was finding it exceedingly difficult to finish her essay on hellebore.

She could see that her writing was going jagged and patchy but she couldn't focus. Her vision blurred in and out as she tried not to breathe in heaving gasps. She could feel her pulse hammering at the sides of her neck, her nipples hardening maddeningly as Harry's hands, chilled from the damp coolness of the dungeon, slid up her thighs and rucked her school skirt around her waist. Instinctively, Hermione slid down in her chair just enough to open her thighs slightly, allowing Harry to continue his kisses that were rapidly growing to a deep sucking as they traveled high on her thigh. She was certain that she was going to have marks there tomorrow. And absolutely positive that she didn't care in the slightest.

Hermione gasped quietly as she felt Harry's hot breath, so close, on the slightly damp cotton of her knickers. She waited to feel the kiss there too. But he merely brushed his lips across the center and continued on to her other leg. This, however, was enough to have her shaking as he ran the tip of his tongue delicately into the crease between her leg and hip on the opposite side. And she could feel his smirk as he watched her flesh goose pimple. The arrogant little git.

With a quick little jolt, Hermione realized that she once again felt Snape's glare on her; her quill had gone slack in her hand for a moment, so she straightened it again and, without really sitting up (which made returning to scholarly efforts much more difficult), Hermione continued writing.

She found this exceedingly difficult, yet again, as inquisitive fingers pushed back her knickers. Her head swayed a bit as she felt his fingers push in and explore her body. There was a strange, dull roaring in her ears and her eyes glazed over and blurred; she abandoned all efforts of writing and merely resorted to swirling her quill tip on the page, in distracted lines and loops, to give the appearance of writing. It seemed that Snape was fooled, however, because he announced that he needed to get something from his office briefly and strode out of the room without another look back.

Harry took this temporary absence of authority quite well in hand and plunged his tongue into her body. As she felt him pulse in and out of her, the gently rough touch moving against her most sensitive spot, Hermione couldn't fight the slight mewling noises now squeaking out of her throat. She dropped her quill to the desktop and allowed her head to fall back. She instinctively spread her legs wide enough to bang her knees against either desk post as Harry delicately inserted a finger into her, his tongue pulsing against her clitoris in counterpoint.

Just as she felt her body begin to quake, she heard the dungeon door swing open, heralding Snape's reentrance into the room. She quickly picked up her pen, muttered an erasing charm to rid her essay of the doodles, and tried desperately to reapply herself to the assignment. Snape was striding back towards her and eagerly craning his neck over Hermione's shoulder, anxiously waiting for her to exhibit some behavior that would warrant the loss of more House points. Hermione tried desperately to maintain her dignity and sense of quietude.

Snape's presence, however, seemed to be taken as a new challenge for Harry, who redoubled his efforts. Snape was barking something about inattention, to which Hermione could only blush and stammer. Luckily, however, her blush was taken as embarrassment by Snape, and not as the actuality of the situation, which was that her body was starting to react to the first waves of her orgasm crashing upon her. She furtively snaked her hands into her lap and scooted her stool closer to the table; she was positive this looked like modesty and not the wild gripping of Harry's head as he helped her ride the wave of her climax.

"I'm very sorry, Professor," she muttered in response to his comment that she live up to her status as Head Girl. I am, her mind quipped, in one form or another, quite a good 'head' girl apparently. "I'll get back to my essay straight away. I was just … day dreaming."

"See that you are less careless in the near future, Miss Granger," Snape responded slickly, "as the potion you will be tending to momentarily is of a rather delicate nature."

"Potion?" she questioned, hoping that the hiccup in her voice – which resulted from Harry's replacing her knickers and once again sucking on her thigh – went unnoticed by Snape.

"Yes, Miss Granger," he said with a growl. "I instructed quite firmly that your detention would consist of an essay and a potion."

"Quite right, Sir," she responded penitently, "forgive me. I'll get to work on the Potion immediately." She put the finishing touches on the essay, which he snatched from her hands.

"I shall grade this in my office," he said, gesturing vaguely to the room across the hall. "Seeing as how you are not a completely gibbering moron, I shall leave you to tend the potion on your own. However, know that any untoward noise or action in this dungeon will activate my wards on the room and alert me my office."

"Yes, sir," she responded as dutifully as possible and set about making the potion. Snape strode out of the room, robes billowing ominously behind him. With a great grimace, Hermione slid her stool away from the worktable the instant Snape disappeared behind the heavy dungeon doors.

"What in the bloody hell are you trying to do? Get us expelled two months before NEWTs?" she whispered furiously to what appeared to be the floor beneath her desk.

Harry's face (followed shortly by the rest of his body) emerged from under the cloak, grinning and well pleased with himself. He stretched quickly after the uncomfortable crouch. "No," he said innocently, "just trying to liven up your detention a bit."

She scowled back at him, but felt her knees gel beneath her as he laid his lips on her neck, sucking slightly. "Come on," he whispered as he traveled up her throat to the curve of her ear. "You enjoyed every second and you know it."

"I was perfectly terrified," she sputtered hotly, damning the quaking of her body as he moved behind her. He pressed against her back and threaded his arms about her. Hermione was still amused and amazed at how deftly his hands slipped between the buttons of her robes, releasing them, and clasping hungrily around her breasts, which pressed against the filmy blouse she had chosen that day.

Hermione tried desperately not to be distracted and set about measuring potion ingredients and dumping them into the cauldron. She turned to tell Harry to bugger off so she wouldn't get in more trouble, but realized that he had gone. Or so she thought. His hands were weaving about her, one still squeezing her breast lightly, toying with her nipple, as the other was seeking out the still-damp warmth beneath her skirt. He tossed her robes to the floor and she frowned at where she was reasonably certain his face was.

"Damn that cloak to hell," she muttered and returned to her work. She felt her concentration waning yet again, however, when she felt his erection pressing insistently against her bum as she bent over the table to chop some roots.

"Harry!" she whispered furiously as he began rubbing his hips lightly against the back of hers.

She felt her eyes widen and blinked rapidly as she realized that he was lifting her skirt.

"What in God's name are you doing?" Hermione said, not troubling herself to be quite as she heard his pants come unfastened.

She felt his skin hot against hers through the thin cotton of her knickers. His erection now pressed against the back of her upper thigh as she felt him lean over her. His lips were close to her ear as he pushed her panties down to her knees; she had to grip the edge of the table for support as he spread her legs gently with his thigh. She was nearly panting as the tip of his penis skimmed between her legs and grazed the warm, wet flesh between her legs. Her head was swimming.

"Silly girl." Harry's voice was a thick, sultry whisper that made her shiver as it fell upon the curves of her ear. His front was splayed against her back and she gasped as just the head of his penis penetrated her body. "I thought it was perfectly obvious that I'm going to take you, right here, right now. Right under Snape's ridiculously large nose."

"Good lord," she mumbled. She had meant to say something forbidding, something to tell him how ludicrous and dangerous that idea was. But as he began to thrust within her, Hermione's thoughts scattered like ants.

Her nails were clawing into the tabletop as he thrust between her legs, his hands now kneading into her hips as he plunged in and out of her. She heard the mews of pleasure, the quiet groans and moans coming out of her own mouth, and could only pray desperately that the cloak would cover enough to disguise their games, should Snape walk in unexpectedly.

Harry's thrusts were becoming wilder and Hermione gasped out again as one of Harry's hands moved up to release the buttons of her shirt, grasping at her lace covered breasts and teasing the nipples as he continued to buck against her. Her hands came back to his hips, steadying him and freeing his grip so that his other hand wandered down between her legs and rubbed eagerly at her as she began to tremble.

"Cease and desist this instant."

Hermione froze in horror. She closed her eyes quickly, hoping that when she opened them, she would not see the scowling Professor standing over them. She prayed, once again, fervently, that the cloak might aid her ruse at least marginally. It could, she told herself. Surely it could.

That was, of course, until she opened her eyes and saw Snape grope for a moment in mid air and then yank at a spot just behind her, ripping away the cloak and revealing Harry standing behind her, buried within her body. Hermione dropped her head to the tabletop. This was it. She was expelled for certain. She waited for the damning order to straighten her clothes and report to Professor Dumbledore instantly.

But it did not come.

Instead, she looked over to see Snape look from Harry to her bent form with a raised eyebrow. She dared not breathe as she watched his movements, which seemed to take a lifetime. He drew his wand from inside his robes, pointed at the table Hermione was currently bent over, and flicked it away a few inches. The table scooted back and Snape moved to take its place, leaning careless against its edge.

Hermione was only too aware that she was still bent over just slightly with Harry's erect penis still in her body. She looked up fearfully at Snape. He glared down at her, but merely pushed open the front of his robes and looked downward at himself. Hermione followed the path of his eyes and nearly felt her stop within her chest as she noticed a prominent bulge in the front of his trousers. She looked back up into Snape's face in alarm. Surely, he didn't expect her to …

But the look on his face, the singularly raised eyebrow, said it all: Well? What are you waiting for?

Hermione looked back to Harry, who was absently caressing her breast still. Though his features were shocked, she could see a sort of angry hunger in his eyes. Hers were questioning as their eyes locked, but she knew the answer before the sparkling green eyes gave it. She turned back and, with shaking fingers, raised her hands to release the clasps at Snape's waist.

Severus Snape lounged effortlessly, haughtily, against the displaced desk as Hermione's hands released his trousers, opened them, and freed his erection. Her heart pounded as she noticed a tiny, glittering drop of liquid on the tip of his penis. Snape raised a hand, raked a fingertip across the drop and raised it to Hermione's face. She barely stopped to process what she was doing. When his finger smeared the warm liquid across her lips, she barely hitched in her motions as she lashed out her tongue and captured his finger, sucking it into her mouth slightly before releasing it. He fisted a hand at the back of her hair and she allowed him to draw down her head. She heard Harry groan as she took Snape's penis into her mouth and began to run her tongue the length of it.

"Well, Potter," he purred secretively, as he undulated his hips in time to the rise and fall of Hermione's head, "what are you waiting for? If you will not show the girl what a good, deep loving feels like, I certainly will when she is finished here."

Not to be outdone, Harry sneered back at Snape. Hermione moaned in displeasure when Harry pulled out of her body but felt her skin sing as he plunged back in, deep and fast. She moaned against Snape's body and felt him growl in pleasure.

Hermione's body was quaking as each man thrust into and out of her, Snape before, Harry behind. She could only just get a handle on the feeling of the two of them moving together against her. She felt her climax rising within her and the tightened muscles of the two men around her alerted her that they might precede her by several seconds.

"Do not lose yourself within her," Snape growled at Harry. "Remove yourself before you do."

Harry merely nodded and, within a moment or two, drew back. When Hermione felt that she had nearly worked Snape to frenzy under her mouth, she felt him pull back from her as well. Incapable of coherent words, she grunted in annoyance. Snape smirked at her and, practically before she was aware that he was moving, he had hoisted her off her feet and deposited her on her back on top of the desk. With one quick jerking motion of his hand, her brassiere came open and she found herself most curiously exposed, top and bottom.

Snape gestured to the warm wetness between her thighs. "There," he demanded to Harry, who looked positively desperate as he clutched his achingly erect penis. "Lose yourself now, if you must, there on her body, but not inside."

Harry, bewildered by the order but too aroused to argue, obliged him and spilled himself across the warm folds at the center of her thighs and lightly across her abdomen. She felt herself tremble in unresolved climax. She was aching for release, but anxious to see where Snape's plan would lead them next.

"Use your hand," he demanded to her as he stood next to her chest. Hermione obeyed and watched through hooded eyes as, after a few firm strokes, Snape quickly ejaculated across her erect nipples and down in the valley between her breasts. He sneered as she quivered in pleasure.

"Now, Potter," he said with a malicious smirk, "we must clean Miss Granger up." He gestured to her nipples, where his own semen lay present.

"After you," Snape purred.

Hermione moaned in spite of herself. "Oh yes, Harry, do," she cried in answer to his hesitance. She could see his heart pounding in his throat as he lowered his head. Hermione's back and body arched into his touch as his tongue flicked out across her nipple. She knew that he had lost any reservations, as she had moments ago, when (in the presence of her obviously approving response) his whole mouth closed hot and hungry over her breast, removing any traces of Snape's orgasm with his tongue.

As Harry worked at her breasts, Hermione felt Snape's sleek head part her thighs and she cried out when she felt his tongue trace over her. Snape was just as eagerly removing the evidence of Harry's climax from between her legs and she felt herself crash towards her release. She shuddered against the cold, hard desk as it rippled through her in great, heaving waves. When her body came back to rest and she rode the last peaks, she looked up to see Snape moving away from the desk. As she righted herself and began to replace her clothing, she felt her heart drop into her stomach and her pulse quicken. Snape grasped Harry by a shock of hair at the back of his head and wrenched Harry's mouth to his own. Hermione's pulse thrummed again as she watched their tongues dance out to taste themselves on the other's lips.

She smirked, and fancied herself quite certain, now, that there would be no further detentions or expulsions for Harry or her. At least, no detentions she would be leaving without being quite serendipitously fulfilled.