Disclaimer: All rights reserved to the ever wonderful author, J.K Rowling.

Summary: Hermione receives detention for failing to complete a potion, but during that detention, something sparks between teacher and student. Will it lead to more, or is it just the Amortentia that is robbing them of any sane thought?

Amortentia

'I am quite -' a voice drawled from behind her; pausing between each word. 'Disappointed in you.'

Her hand stilled; fingers tightly clutched around the stirring-rod. Eyes down-cast and head bowed; she glanced at the potion seated in front of her, mind whirling as she tried to come up with the solution to her dilemma. What did I miss? Why hasn't it turned pearlescent yet?

The looming presence behind her did nothing to still her erratically beating heart; nor did it ease her mind enough to come up with the answer quick enough. Her palms felt clammy; cold-sweat had gathered at her brow and neck.

'Detention tonight, eight o'clock. And I would appreciate if you were to arrive in time.' she ventured to take a quick glance at him; the corners of his mouth were curled upwards, and nostrils dilated in obvious annoyance. Her eyes travelled the heavy-set lines of his face until she reached the two dark pits that were his eyes; cold and merciless as they bore a hole through her skull, right through every futile shield she had wrapped around her thoughts; crumbling the shuddering walls into fine powder.

'Yes, sir.' she whispered in a barely audible voice; a flush spreading over her cheeks and neck at the thought of having displeased a teacher. Her mouth twitched, tongue curling in preparation to say more; his intense glare immediately made the words die out in nonsensical mumbling.

'That git!' a red-haired boy exclaimed as soon as she finished; bits of food and spittle spewing out of his mouth. She scooted a bit to the left to avoid getting hit, fork scraping over the full-sized meal on her own plate. After that disastrous class, she was not feeling particularly hungry; and besides, it was never good to go to detention with the potions master on a full stomach.

'Watch your language Ronald!' she reprimanded, furtively glancing around in case the Professor happened to be lurking in the shadows. 'Even though he is unfair, he is a teacher. Bad-mouthing a teacher never leads to any good. And it is my fault for forgetting such a big component.'

'You have spaced out a lot lately.' her black-haired friend voiced; concern crinkling his brow. 'Is something bothering you?'

She smiled at the two boys, pushing a few stubborn strands away from her face.

'No, nothing is bothering me, I just have a lot in mind.' she reassured him, placing her hand on his shoulder as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. 'Thank you for caring to ask though.'

'I am your friend, Hermione. Of course I care.' he stated with a grin plastered on his face, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose; making him look like a mischievous child.

Another spray of food landed on her plate as her other friend hurriedly assured her that he too, cared about her. She smiled at him awkwardly; knowing that he meant it in a more-than-friendly-way, feelings which she could not reciprocate. His ears turned pink as he returned his attention to the food laid out in heaps on the table.

She took this chance to quickly spring up from her seat, grab her book-bag and with a hurried: 'goodbye, don't wait up!', she jogged out of the Great Hall, not wanting to be late for detention.

'Miss Granger, please take a seat.' the Professor said quietly as she stepped through the heavy door, and she made her way to the desk nearest him; awaiting further instructions, but he silently continued scribbling on a piece of parchment. By the looks of it - the sharp slashes, and red ink -, it looked like a student's essay.

'Um - sir?' she whispered hesitantly; slightly uncomfortable with the scratching of a quill being the only sound. 'What should I do?'

He paused his hand, and tilted his head slightly to take her in; the tension in the room rising to a new level. Hermione could almost taste it, and her fingers tangled together in a complicated dance; swallowing thickly.

'You are to redo the Amortentia. Your detention will last as long as it takes you to complete it.'

'But sir! It takes over four hours to do it. I won't be able to leave before curfew.'

'If you do not start now, it will take even longer. And five points from Gryffindor for talking back at a teacher.'

She hurriedly walked over to the storage room; grabbed as many ingredients as she could carry and placed them all neatly on her desk, in order of usage. Her battered copy of 'Advanced Potion-Making' she situated in the air with a flick of her wand; the book hovering right above the cauldron. She let her eyes slide over the first few steps, memorizing them before pouring water inside her cauldron and setting the heat on low.

After you have prepared your cauldron, crush the moonstone until it has turned into fine powder.

Hermione took the uneven stone, admiring the slight shine before putting it inside her mortar and quickly pulverizing it; and lightly sprinkling the milky-white substance inside her cauldron, fascinated by the way the water turned from clear to a faint, off-white colour and waited for the consistence to thicken before moving on to the next step.

Mix in three dried belladonna petals. (Make sure that the colour has the right shade)

The jar held exactly three petals, so she tipped the glass-container; petals elegantly floating before landing gently on the surface, floating for a moment before slipping to the bottom.

Stir the concoction in a spiral, counter-wise, until it has acquired a light pink sheen.

By the time the potion had gotten the right colour, her arm was aching from the constant stirring, and sweat had gathered at her brow. She quickly swiped her hand across her forehead, not wanting the salty droplets to ruin her potion.

Shed a rose of its thorns, and be sure to not cut a millimetre too much, for it may cause the potion to boil over.

Four hours and forty minutes had gone by since she started her task, and she was currently stirring the potion; eyes spying on the Professor, who had shed his robes and was not sitting leaned back in his chair; long fingers curled around a leather-bound book, and feet crossed at the ankles. She wondered if he had forgotten she was there, and supposed he had, for he looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him.

Before she got too distracted by her thoughts, she quickly turned her attention back to the potion, seeing the tell-tale signs of spirals rising from the cauldron. Almost done.

Suddenly she felt a presence behind her, and she stiffened as she smelled the spicy, wood-y smell of her Professor, his broad chest tickling her conscience; the hair on her arms rising in excitement. Her breathing turned heavy as she tried to lean away from him, and focus on the potion. Only one ingredient.

'What - what are you doing, sir?' she asked breathlessly; his fingers on the back of her clenched hands clearing her mind of any thought.

'If you do not want to spend another night here, you should finish the potion before it is ruined.' he whispered in a sinfully sensual voice, breath ticking against her ear. He was so close - too close.

With shaking hands, she grabbed a handful of frozen ashwinder eggs, and in quite a careless motion; threw them inside the cauldron. With a bated breath, she waited for the potion to acquire its rightful shade.

But before she could find out, strong hands quickly turned her around, and she was faced with the black-clad chest of her Professor; her fingers clutching his biceps as she tried to regain balance.

'You have no idea what you do to me.' he gasped, dragging her body closer to his until every part of them was touching. Hermione blushed violently, as she felt his male-parts pressed against her stomach. She spluttered, trying to say something, but his intense gaze shut her up. Her breath hitched as his face came closer and closer, the heat rising rapidly and she regretted not taking of her woollen robe; she was almost dizzy from the sudden change in temperature.

'Your thoughts torture me every class.' his breath ghosted over her parted lips, and she shuddered; a minty scent assailing her nose. 'It's so easy to read you.'

Hermione tried to drag her eyes from him, but at this moment, the world became him; and she was drowning in a black abyss. She did not even have the power to feel ashamed of how easily he seemed to be able to see through her Occlumens walls.

His nose dragged over her neck, and she envisioned for a moment that he was smelling her, but then his lips touched the junction between neck and shoulder, and she let out a moan, legs turning into jelly. She would have fallen to the ground if it were not for his hands securely placed on her waist.

'You - you'

He silenced her by lightly touching their lips together; she became teary-eyed at the sheer comfort his touch brought her. Never had a man made her feel so special with so little effort.

'Severus.'

A sudden cold draft made her open her eyes, and she watched as her Professor retreated, hand covering his face from view. Had she done something wrong?

'Your potion seems to be ready. You may leave.'

He could as well have slapped her in the face, his distant voice bringing a sharp pain in her chest. She quickly vialed her potion and packed away her things. Tears stung her eyes as she blinked rapidly, mouth crinkling as she desperately tried to hold back the anguished cries that rose in her throat.

'Good night.' she said hoarsely, voice cracking at the end.

A month had gone by since that disastrous evening in the dungeons with her Professor, and she had refused to look him in the eye, though the ghost of his touch haunted her at every hour of the day.

She had started avoiding her friend; their questioning eyes bringing back the pain ten-fold, so more and more of her time was spent studying in the library. The musty, old tomes were able to bring a soothing relief to the sharp pangs she seemed to suffer.

At night, she was out well pass curfew, patrolling the corridors and trying to distract her thoughts from thinking of him, and failing miserably every time. The only sound accompanying her was the click-clack of her heels and the occasional hoot of an owl.

Hogwarts at night was serene, but it only served to intensify her distress; but it was better than spending her nights, twisting and turning in bed until she was covered in sweat and her sheets had tangled around her legs.

Why did he stop?

The question had plagued Hermione's mind since that night, but no matter how much she pondered upon the many answers, she could not possibly come up with a plausible answer. The way he spoke, and his actions hinted on deeper feelings, but then he pulled away.

Why?

Suddenly footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, and Hermione jumped behind a stone pillar, trying to still her racing heart. She hoped with her entire being that it was not who she believed it to be. She knew he liked to wander the school at night.

'One should try to be more cautious if they are trying to evade notice.' a deep-baritone said. Of course it would be him!

'If you'll excuse me, sir.'

'You have been avoiding me.' he stated, next-to-no emotions evident in his voice. And with just that one statement, hot-white anger flared up in her. She stomped over to him, finger poking at his chest repeatedly.

'You must be dafter than I thought, if you think I am going to accept your unforgivable behaviour from that night. You clearly know of my feelings, yet you decide to trample on them as if they meant nothing. You actually made me believe that there was a chance that you felt the same.' she screeched, tears streaking her face; chest heaving and head bowed.

And then everything went black.

'Silly girl.'

Professor Snape had his arms around her, robes fluttering at their feet as his chin rested on the top of her head.

'You make me feel too much.'

She tried to turn her face to look at him, but his grip tightened around her, and she was engulfed in his warmth.

'It is not proper, for a teacher to have feelings for a student. But you make it impossible to abide to that rule.' he groaned softly as he kissed her forehead. 'Especially with your thoughts so open for me to read.'

As his chin was not resting on her head, she took the chance to tilt her head upwards, mind reeling at this sudden revelation.

'But why did you pull away from me?'

He did not say anything for a while, and Hermione was afraid that he would suddenly come to his senses and pull away again.

'I was so close to losing control when you said my name.' he said slowly, refusing to look at her. 'Hermione.'

It was the first time he called her by her given name, and her insides burned with the desire to kiss him, hold him and never let go. I love him.

'Severus.'

And he kissed her. But unlike last time, it was not just lips brushing against each other; but hot, open-mouthed snogging. She clung to him, becoming one with him as she pressed herself closer.

After a while, both pulled away for some much needed air; breathing heavily. She brought her hand to his face, and traced the shape of his mouth, fingertips gliding over the lines of his face; a show of his suffering.

He leaned into her hand when she cupped it around his face, and her heart warmed considerably at the sight; insides bursting with the rush of happiness that coursed through her.

'Please, don't ever pull away from me again.'

And that's a wrap everybody!

Hope you enjoyed this small one-shot. I have had nil inspiration when it comes to writing, so it feels really good to have been able to complete a short story and I really enjoyed writing it. Hopefully it was not too rushed and confusing.