Chapter Nine

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           "Bollocks, I can't figure this out," Ben groans to you in a whisper, glancing over his shoulder at Snape who was wading through the nervous students at their desks, breathing down their necks as they struggled to remember the ingredients for the potion of the day. You turn to the cauldron of Forgetfulness Potion. "You added the mistletoe berries, right?" you inquire. "Yeah, three of 'em." "...three. Wait, let me see the recipe again," as you reach for the textbook. Add four whole mistletoe berries. "I think we need another," you remark, heading to the shelves to find the missing ingredient.

           You make your way to the shelf behind Snape's desk, knowing where to find them since you'd just labeled and organized them last week. Reaching them would be another matter, as you didn't have the handy step stool you'd used before. You stand on your toes, stretching your hand to the top shelf, as high as you can, the tips of your fingers barely brushing against the jar. Almost...

           A large hand grasps the jar, "Put your hand down, you silly girl." His extended arm causes his robe to drape around you, blocking out the rest of the class from your view. You revel in the smell of cedar and amber and fight the urge to wrap your arms around him. Snape effortlessly brings the ingredient down to you, catching your gaze. He hands you the jar and breaks the eye contact, returning to his desk. You add another berry to the mixture, restoring the balance of the ingredients and successfully brewing a batch of Forgetfulness Potion. After bottling the potion and having it pass Snape's evaluation, you settle into your seat as Snape stands and begins a lecture on the uses of the potion.

           As he talks, you start to imagine what might make him call you good girl. Or even bad girl.

          You imagine kneeling in his office, the rough stone floor against your knees. His hands grasp in your hair, his thumb on your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open...his dark eyes watching as you take his thumb in your mouth, desperate for more of him. You picture him jerking you to your feet and bending you over his workbench, his hands slowly sliding up your skirt. His fingers finding the edge of your panties, moving them aside to expose your wet heat...a low growl vibrating from his chest. His body leaning close to you, his husky voice lowly mutters in your ear, "Is my good girl so wet already?" His finger slips between your folds and he gently drags it along your clit, his other hand still holding a fistful of your hair.

           Your hazy gaze focuses to see Snape watching you, his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched. Your eyes take in his form, making your way to his center where his hands clasp together blocking your view once again. He clears his throat and turns, dismissing the class five minutes early. The students mutter in confusion to each other, "the Dungeon Bat himself letting us go early? Never happened before but I'm not complaining," you gather your things and follow the other students, Snape focusing intently on his grading.

           You make your way up to your dorm and sink into your bed, quietly sighing with ache. "I can't wait! One more day! I need Jemma to do my makeup, she's so good at it," Amy sighs. "You think she'll do mine too? I want to look hot for Ben." "Georgia!" Angel gasps, playfully pushing her friend. "Ok, let's go ask. Come on, Y/n! I bet she'll do yours too if we ask." You try to seem as excited as they are, joining them to harass Jemma.

           After spending nearly an hour in the common room talking with Jemma, you've all decided on what makeup looks you want. A part of you is a little bit excited to have your makeup done. Maybe you'll look nice enough for him to notice...you've heard that the teachers have to attend these events, so you relax into the idea of him being there, gradually becoming more eager with the rest of the girls for the Harvest Ball.

           You head back up to your dorm for some quiet before dinner time and leave your friends, still talking about dresses, dates, and dancing. The clicking echo of your steps against the castle walls is interrupted by a silky deep voice behind you, "One moment, Miss Y/n," you stop in your tracks. "I want to speak with you." You turn to face your professor, "Um..yes, Professor?" "You left something behind in class." Your eyes widen in alarm as he holds up a journal. Your journal.

           "Oh, I, uh...you didn't...read it, did you?" your voice trembling with panic. His eyes hold a look of amusement as he replies, "Only enough to discover your daydreams of me slipping you veritaserum and forcing you to reveal...how did you put it? Your 'true feelings and fantasies...'" You stand there, mouth agape in horror and embarrassment. His face becomes stern, "So, this is what you've been writing in class instead of paying attention." You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, "It's not what you think! I, I–"

           Snape steps closer, looming over you. "Meet me in the potions storeroom tonight for detention," he growls in a low voice. "Let's see what else you confess." 

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