The Burning Pen

"What Was I Thinking" Series
"#1 ~ What Was I Thinking? ~ Part 1"
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 1

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 1 ~ Sneaking a Peek

"Your eyes. Black as sin. Black as a deeply canopied forest of forbidden pleasures. Your voice. Fire smoldering over silk, growling like some primal eruption with a promise of complete destruction. I want both raking over me, your eyes, your voice. I want your beautiful fingers pressing my skin. Touch me, Severus. Stir my emotions gently but with surety. I am like a volatile potion that needs to be distilled by a Master."

Severus Snape paused in his circuit of the potions classroom, black robes billowing. His head turned sharply toward the bushy-haired young woman chewing absently on her bottom lip, noting the unfocused gaze on her face.

"Miss Granger! Am I talking just to hear myself speak? I realize your auditing of this fifth year class is purely voluntary, but if you must force your presence upon me for an additional hour each day, you can at least pretend to be interested in what I have to say."

Hermione started as if zapped by a wand. "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor...sir!" She gasped a bit guiltily as she fidgeted in her seat, a flush creeping over her face.

"Of that, there is no doubt, Miss Granger. I don't know what flights of idiocy you are currently taking, but I suggest you return to terra firma and pay attention! Ten points from Gryffindor for your daydreaming on my time!"

Hermione scowled at the point loss, but said nothing. She had been caught dead to rights, and the taking of points was hardly surprising. Deducting points from Gryffindors was one of Snape's favorite pastimes. She knew that the fact he managed to tag her just sweetened the pot. Thank the gods he didn't know what she was thinking.

Smirking to himself, the Potions Master stalked over to the blackboard and noisily wrote down the name of three potions. Several students winced as the chalk squealed horribly beneath his long fingers. Of course, Severus didn't need chalk. He could write his list with a simple wave of his hand if he wanted, but what pleasure would that bring? Setting teeth on edge was yet another perk of mundane methods, and an excellent way to insure the dolts paid attention.

He addressed the class. "Pop quiz time. You will write the ingredients of all three potions and describe the brewing process of each one, in detail and turn in your parchments at the end of class to be graded. Incomplete parchments will receive a failing mark. Begin."

Punctuated by groans, quills started scratching busily.

Severus stalked over to his desk, sat down and began grading yesterday's homework assignments. Or at least appeared to. Actually he was musing over Miss Granger's startling mental monologue. On seeing her distant expression, he couldn't help probing her mind a little. The bright muggle-born witch often had quite an internal dialogue going on, thinking of associations and triangulations that were amazing to say the least. If her brainpower could be harnessed, it would be enough power to light the entire castle of Hogwarts and then some.

For Severus, listening in on her thoughts was often the equivalent of eating very good chocolate when he was down. It gave him a boost to know intelligence and free-thinking reined at least in one student in his class, especially when he had a difficult day dealing with morons whose minds appeared to be wet, slanted, slippery and unable to hold the slightest bit of knowledge unless nailed down with sarcasm, threats and penalties.

But this development was entirely unexpected, entirely flattering and, dare he admit it ... entirely arousing. He lifted his eyes slightly, and studied Hermione from beneath his lashes. Scratching out notations, she was a far cry from that bushy-headed, buck-toothed, know-it-all that walked excitedly into the Great Hall and his classroom seven years ago. He had been relieved she had been sorted into Gryffindor, unaware of her muggle-born status. One look at her eager face told him immediately that she would be an insufferable aggravation, and McGonagal was welcome to her. But later, when he had a taste of her quick mind and willingness to learn, he determined she would have been an excellent addition to Slytherin house.

She was a child no longer. A bit pudgy when she first arrived, her baby fat had redistributed itself quite healthily on her frame. Even her robes couldn't wholly conceal her ample curves. She had grown up and out in all the proper places. Her hair, though at first glance still appeared bushy, had lengthened into a soft mass of brown curls that fell past her shoulders in a cascade of shining locks. Even more appealing, her need to show off her knowledge had been tempered by the ensuing years. She now conducted herself more fitting to the scholarly cast of her temperament. She no longer felt the need to answer every question, and any questions that came from her were well considered and intelligent. Not to mention, challenging.

Severus found intelligence in a woman, alluring. He found challenge absolutely intoxicating. Add to that a body and face sweet enough to make sugar-sand seem sour, and the package was perfect for unwrapping. For a moment, Severus imagined Hermione lying naked in his four-poster, hair wildly askew, eyes sultry, lips pouting and with a Christmas bow tied neatly around her midriff.

"Gods." He muttered as his cock throbbed delightedly beneath his robes. No more of that in class. He cleared his throat, and realized that Hermione was now looking directly at him.

"Can I get you some water, Professor?" she asked.

"No." He said gruffly and returned to marking the parchments before him.

"Can I get you something else?" Hermione asked, unaware of the husky, suggestive purr her voice took on as she directed the question to the Potions Master.

Several heads shot up, startled and stared at Hermione as if she had doused herself in a barrel of bubertuber puss. The sudden silence of quills made the quiet echo loudly in her ears. Snape felt rather shocked himself at the timbre of her voice, and tried to quickly wrestle himself back into composure before anyone noticed his reaction.

"What?!" he managed to croak out, painfully aware of his slowly tenting robe. Thankfully, his desk provided adequate cover.

Hermione flushed. "I mean some pumpkin juice, or gilly-water perhaps..." Her voice died away as the Professor's dark eyes seemed to smolder into hers for a moment. She felt her insides leap, and a bit of dampness warming the juncture of her thighs. Then as quickly as they flared, Snape's eyes became unreadable again. He leaned forward over the desk, a scowl on his sharp features.

"Miss Granger, I would not like pumpkin juice, gilly-water or any other libation. What I would like is to mark my papers in peace. I suggest you stop interrupting my class and concern yourself with your audit notations rather than my state of thirst. Do I make myself clear, or do I need to invoke a Sonorus charm to be certain you hear the word "NO" more clearly?"

"No sir," Hermione said meekly.

"Good."

Severus returned to the marking at hand, red quill sweeping across the pages almost savagely. In his mind however, he continued his dialogue...

"What I would like, Miss Granger, is to oblige your little wistful, almost poetic invitation, and show up at your door with the rock-hard reality of what it means to desire an ex-death eater, and master of the "horizontal rumba." You will find I do not stir gently, my little lioness. Not gently at all."


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A/N: This is my first PWP or Potterverse story. Hope you find it interesting thus far. Thanks for reading.

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