This story is set in Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts. Keep in mind that her birthday is in September, so she would be seventeen (and of legal age!) for almost all of her sixth year. =)

For Mefalise... who also happened to be my beta. =D

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I certainly wouldn't be publishing this online. I would be making millions of dollars elsewhere.

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Hermione sat hunched over one of the small tables that littered the library. Her legs were crossed in her seat and she was poring over a nearly Medieval copy of Proven Practical Purposes of the Dark Magicks. Given the lovely spring weather outside the castle, Hermione was one of the only students in the library, and she was the only student currently in the Restricted Section.

A stack of parchment lay next to her, several pages covered in a slightly untidy shorthand that she knew she would have to decipher for Ron and Harry later. She twiddled her quill absentmindedly between her fingers. Every so often, she would sweep her ever-encroaching hair away from her face.

She was so intent on her reading that she did not notice a bat-like figure sweep down the dimly-lit aisle she was occupying. When a deep voice behind her drawled, "Miss Granger?" she jumped so violently that she nearly knocked the heavy copper-plated book from the table.

Composing herself, she stood and turned to see Professor Snape in his usual all-black, arms crossed over his chest, and a calculating look in his eye.

"Yes, Professor?" she answered, still somewhat breathless from the shock.

He glanced down at the book and her notes. "May I see your signed permission to be here?" he asked. His words were polite but his tone was not.

"It's already been approved by Madam Pince..." Hermione began, but at the look on his face, she handed him the folded piece of paper.

"This has my signature on it, Miss Granger," Snape informed her.

"Yes, Sir, because you gave it to me this morning. I'm researching for the paper you assigned for Wednesday," Hermione said, looking more than a little confused.

Snape slowly and deliberately tore the paper down the center. "I most certainly did not, Miss Granger. And I believe that Madam Pince would be more than happy to revoke your library privileges once I have informed her of your forgery."

Hermione's jaw dropped and only a slightly muffled squeak came from her throat.

"Or, perhaps," Snape continued, "I could keep this between us and instead have you serve a private detention with me every night this week." He looked around furtively for Pince before he smoothly backed her into the bookcase and pinned her there with his arms.

Hermione welcomed the kiss he planted on her neck but still seemed confused. "Severus, why would you even joke about suspending my library privileges? And you definitely did give me permission to be here."

"It's Professor Snape in public," he breathed into her ear, running his hands through her untamed hair. "And I need some excuse to keep you locked away in my chambers for a week."

"That's never stopped you before, Professor Snape," Hermione grumbled, "and I'm sure that my use of your formal name won't matter to anyone who sees you snogging me in the middle of the library."

Snape withdrew. "My chambers, Miss Granger. Fifteen minutes." With that, he turned and stalked out of the library.

When she was sure he was gone, Hermione grinned to herself. At the beginning of the school year, when she realized Snape was going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hermione had worked herself into a tizzy. She had never done as well in the subject as Harry, and Snape was sure to bring a whole new level of difficulty to the class. Besides that, the man made her nervous.

These assumptions had come to be true, and Hermione had struggled to keep her marks up in her usual range. She was spending hours each evening practicing the spells they were covering and finding herself so exhausted that she wasn't making much headway. The boys were no help; as soon as Snape had been appointed to the position, both had fallen into a deep sulk and had even less enthusiasm for their homework than before. Hermione had found herself begging Snape for remedial lessons whenever possible, despite the fact that she did not care to see him one minute more than necessary.

Although Snape was cold, exacting, and cruel during these remedial lessons, he was a good teacher, and Hermione found herself quickly improving and her marks shooting up. Even though her grades had gone up and she had a hold on the subject, Snape said no word about ending their private lessons, and Hermione felt no reason to bring it up. She enjoyed the extra learning, she secretly enjoyed finally being better than Harry at defensive spells, and even more secretly, she enjoyed Severus Snape's mind and company. His dedication and skill were astonishing, and she came to suspect that underneath his coldest, there was the possibility of a beating heart.

Around December, after four months of private lessons, Hermione began to notice some changes in the surly professor. His critiques of her skill were no less harsh, and he was no less moody to her in class, but they seemed to have developed some kind of rapport. His manner was somehow friendlier, more personable. When demonstrating a difficult wand maneuver, Snape did not hesitate to grasp her arm to show her how to accomplish it.

Hermione also began to notice some changes in herself. These momentary contacts did not disgust her. On the contrary, she found herself sometimes having more trouble with her wandwork than strictly necessary in order to prolong them. His company was no longer a dreaded thing, and she actually looked forward to the three-a-week lessons.

A month before, in February, Snape had given Hermione a N.E.W.T. level spell which she could not master. Normally, she would have appreciated such a challenge, but she was already worrying about exams, and the extra stress was not helping. When Snape harshly criticized her attempts, Hermione collapsed into a chair and was horrified to find herself crying. It was mortifying to be in such a state in front of Snape, and when he walked to her side, she assumed it was to take house points for her behavior. Instead, he knelt beside her and awkwardly took her in his arms. He didn't say a word, and she could feel the tenseness in his back. The unexpected act of kindness dried her tears almost instantly, and when he drew back to see if she was all right, she found she could not tear her eyes from his. It was then that he first kissed her.

At this point, Hermione and Snape began a complicated dance of maintaining a professional relationship as well as a relationship that was no so well known. In class, both carefully avoided the other's gaze, and Hermione felt that Snape began taking more house points from her than ever, probably in an attempt to overcompensate. She continued her 3 hours of lessons a week, and they had decided early on that they would remove any personal feelings from those three hours so that they could be completely dedicated to Defense Against the Dark Arts. If, however, Hermione ended up staying later in Snape's chambers, as she often did, their professional relationship was quickly forgotten.

Realizing she had been lost in her thoughts, Hermione quickly gathered the heavy book and her notes, stuffed them in her bag, and hurried from the library, Madam Pince looking at her suspiciously as she did so.

The flights of stairs down to the dungeons winded her, and Hermione knocked on Snape's door while clutching the stitch in her side. The door swung open and shut behind her as soon as she had entered. Snape's rooms weren't particularly diverse--the only two real colors in sight were black and green--but they were stylish and neat. Snape was sitting on his couch with a book, his feet touching the hard stone floor and the fireplace softly crackling behind him. He looked up.

"You're two minutes late, Miss Granger," he intoned, crooking an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Sir."

"No matter. I'll simply have to give you another detention," he said, a small hint of a grin denting his serious demeanor. "Come here, Hermione."

Hermione laid down her bags before obeying him. Once she reached him, she allowed him to scoop her into his lap.

"I've missed you," he said a little gruffly, stroking her face.

"I've missed you too," she replied. She felt a little guilty for abandoning their time together for her studies, but she knew he understood. It occurred to her that his tenderness, which had disconcerted her when she first realized it existed, no longer seemed strange to her. It was just a side of him that he didn't share with anyone else.

Pulling her even closer to him, he kissed her softly. Hermione sighed quietly. She'd missed this. She kissed him back, obviously more enthusiastically than he had anticipated because his eyes flew open in surprise. When she looked a little embarrassed, he smirked gently at her before kissing her again, this time with more gusto. With his fingers twisting in her hair and their bodies pressed as close together as possible, Hermione was relieved when Snape stood and easily carried her bride-style, without even breaking their kiss. He kicked the door to his bedroom open and laid her on his dark gray sheets. He did not join her immediately, instead taking a moment to remove his shoes. Hermione also took this opportunity to kick off her own. Before she knew it, Snape was breathing hotly in her ear, kissing her neck, and unbuttoning her blouse. She helped him slide it off. She blushed slightly when she realized she was wearing her plain white bra that was rather more grandmother-like than sexy.

If Snape shared her thought, he didn't let on in the slightest. He ran his hands down her sides and knelt his head to kiss the cleavage poking out of her bra. He started to remove it, but before he could, Hermione pushed him back, desperate to touch him first. He obediently leaned back on his knees and watched her attempt to unfasten all of his buttons. The smirk on his face grew and grew as she became more frustrated and he let out a low chuckle.

"Help me!" she cried, a small smile on her own face despite herself. With his help, the process was sped up considerably, and she was soon running her fingers over his chest.

"Are you satisfied?" he asked a moment later, and she nodded. He got up from the bed, and at first she was afraid that he had misinterpreted what she meant. But she soon realized that he had only moved to the end of the bed in order to make it easier for him to remove her stockings. He teasingly grabbed the toe-ends of them and pulled. Even the simple, routine act of her stockings being removed made Hermione's skin tingle with excitement. Snape tossed the stockings onto a nearby armchair, ever the gentleman, and returned to her side so that he could remove her skirt. He accomplished this quickly and moved back up. This time Hermione allowed him to unfasten her bra, and she arched her head back as he stroked her. He laid down a series of quick kisses around the underside of her breasts before grasping a nipple between his lips. His fingers massaged her other nipple and she gasped quietly. She entwined her fingers in his hair and urged him downwards. He took his time, kissing her slowly from her chest to the top of her panties.

She squirmed slightly. "Severus, please..."

With a wicked grin, Snape slid off her panties and began a tantalizing two-step with his fingers. He brushed them along her panty line and dipped lower, teasingly, before massaging her inner thighs. Hermione was about to forget about propriety and tell him exactly where she needed him when his mouth descended to her center. She gasped and arched her back and he slipped his tongue inside of her. He removed it and licked her tantalizingly slowly, spurred on by her moans.

Hermione knew that if he continued, she would come before he got any of his own pleasure. "Severus, I want you," she said huskily. She helped him struggle out of his pants and boxers and was happy to see he was more than ready for her. However, he ignored his aching need long enough to kiss her feverishly. Then he slid inside of her, filling her up the way she had been longing for. He found his rhythm, massaging her breasts as he slid in and out. Just when it seemed to both of them that it couldn't possibly feel any better, they came together, calling each other's names in harmony. They stayed that way for a few moments, holding each other's shaking bodies. When at last their breathing had evened, Snape moved to lay beside Hermione. He held her in his arms and stroked her face.

"I love you, Hermione," he said in a voice completely lacking in malice or sarcasm.

"I love you too," Hermione responded, finding herself smiling hugely despite her exhaustion.

As she snuggled into the crook of his neck, Snape murmured, "Don't forget, you have detention tomorrow night as well. And I'll expect you on time, Miss Granger."