Want to give Hermione a run for her money in the know-it-all field? Simply play the quiz by commenting on this post with your answers at any time over the weekend. All comments with answers will be screened until the answer sheet is posted on Monday morning EDT. On Monday, all quizzlings with the correct answers will receive a pretty banner to prove their quiz prowess. Ready? Set? Play!
Match the quotes to the story titles without picking the red herring titles:
Fireworks by of_anoesis
Closer by rivertempest
Clock Watching by melisande88
Silence by Loten
Beasts With Two Backs and Where to Find Them - i.e. In the Potions Master’s Bedroom by laurielover1912
Touch by sandlappershell
Secrets in the classroom by imera
Broken Taboo by SGTRJ
Seeing Stars by PMmistress
Don't Turn Around by Illuminare
Playing With Discretion by pern_dragon
All Hallows' Reckoning by Proulxes
1. Oh, the shiver of that voice, right down her spine, right, to be perfectly frank, to the place between her thighs. She wasn't sure she liked having him behind her where she could not see what he was up to. Miss Granger. How could any two words be so erotic? And yet she shivered, and not with cold.
She understood Pansy perfectly now. Snape had been nothing but a hideous presence in Hermione's life as a student, but things had changed. Everything had changed. She was letting him change things. She trusted him because she always had trusted him, because he was Dumbledore's man, but there was something new here, something different; alarming and yet compelling. He not only changed things, he changed her, forced her off balance, made her react and consider him in unfamiliar light. She bit her lip, staring at the clock, thinking hard.
Snape's hands slid down over her hair to her shoulders. She could feel their heat through her robes. For some reason, she had expected his hands to feel cold, given their pale thinness and the cool, distant manner he had always cultivated in years past. She couldn't remember him touching any student, much less herself, in the past. She felt him bend near. "Are you watching the clock, Miss Granger?" His breath stirred the hair over her ear, and raised goosebumps on her neck.
2. He must have been leaning into her now. He was whispering for her ears only, low and smooth, his voice laced with a heady erotic charge. ‘There are rules governing the administration of exams. If you persist in flouting them ... I shall have to punish you.’
A prickle of excitement ran through her. She inhaled deeply; she wanted him in ways she could barely admit. Since the war she had sought comfort in the physical and had found herself inclining further and further from straightforward vanilla sex. She suspected, she hoped, the man currently standing perilously close to her felt the same.
Snape didn’t move away. He remained behind her, so close she struggled not to reach out and grasp him. Yet he kept himself out of her field of vision. She squirmed in her chair, the heat seeping between her legs frustrating and tormenting, and concentrated distractedly on putting the finishing touches to the exam.
‘I’ve finished, sir.’
‘Don’t speak unless I give you permission, Miss Granger. Your time at this school may be coming to a close, but there are clearly some lessons you still need to learn.’
Her breath caught. Staring hard ahead, she spoke softly but precisely. ‘I would like you to teach me those lessons, sir.’
There was a beat of silence. ‘Do you not listen to a word I say? I forbade you from speaking unless I gave you permission. If you wish me to teach you, you will have to accept my methods.’
His voice prompted her desire to rise from her in a weak mewl; she couldn’t prevent it.
‘You sound a little distressed, Miss Granger. Are you alright?’ The mock was thinly veiled.
3. Shock froze Hermione to the spot as Snape grabbed her shoulders.
His long fingers dug into her as he held her close to him, his nose bumping painfully on her cheekbone and his teeth bruising her upper lip as he crashed their faces together.
Before she had a chance to react, however, he had pulled away from her and began to back up to the workbench beside him. His booted feet crunched on the various bits of broken pots and potions ingredients that were now strewn over the floor in the storeroom. He seemed flustered and overwrought, his face flushed and his eyes wide with the realisation of what had just happened.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded angrily. His eyes darted about the room as if he was looking for an escape route. She saw him assemble his shields, pulling the impassive mask over his features as she had seen him do before so many times.
Not tonight, she thought. Not now.
With something like a snarl in the base of her throat, she flew at him, grabbing his open shirt in one hand and fisting the other in his hair so she could pull him towards her again.
Their second kiss was just as violent as the first, and Hermione gloried in it.
4. It was the Saturday after their anniversary, and, since they hadn’t been able to celebrate much on the actual day—both were working—Severus and Hermione had scheduled a special date for a fancy lunch, to be followed by a leisurely afternoon of shopping for certain somethings in honour of the day.
After their shared shower—longer than necessary with all their playful shenanigans—Hermione was finishing fixing her hair at her dressing table when Severus stepped up behind her and leant down, meeting her eyes in the mirror. His wicked smirk gave her pause, and she shivered at the sensation of him nuzzling her ear as he murmured, “I’ve had an idea…”
Pulse quickening at the sultry promise of his voice, Hermione lilted, “Oh? What kind of an idea?”
His hands swept in front of her with a flourish, one holding a suede-covered box with a hinged lid. Hermione gasped in recognition, lifting her wide-eyed gaze to meet his in the mirror again. His smirk had widened into a mischievous grin, and he lifted the lid of the box in front of her.
5. Maybe he feels alone, too? It sounded odd to think about Snape feeling anything of the sort, but Hermione remembered how she'd felt when she first saw those memories. He had been such an isolated, awkward boy; she had thought him quite sweet, actually, trying hard to be something he wasn't, and he hadn't deserved the way he'd been treated. As far as she could tell, he had been isolated all his life, and she doubted he had people asking him how he was feeling about things. Enduring what he had been through was miraculous enough; going through it all completely alone was almost unbelievable. Nobody else would have been able to survive it. And as far as she could tell, nobody cared. It must hurt, to have been through all that and not be recognised for it; anyone else would have been hailed as a hero, and instead nothing had changed. He was still stuck in a life he had never seemed to want.
Something sparked in his dark eyes that suggested she had guessed right, a flicker hinting at the odd mutual understanding that seemed to have formed between them. Of everyone else in the castle at this moment, they were the only two who knew everything that had happened, the only two who weren't lying to one another or keeping secrets from one another. The only two who could understand and appreciate how the other one felt.
Then he smiled slightly, and she stared; she had never seen Snape genuinely smile before. It was only a slight curve of his lips at one side of his mouth, but it reached his eyes, turning them from hard and cold to expressive and deep, softening some of the harsh lines of his face. He seemed almost another person for a moment, and she felt as though she was catching a brief glimpse of the real Snape for possibly the first time in seven years.
And she liked what she saw.
6. 'Oh no. I remember every word.'
'Each and every one.'
While speaking he had been focusing on her clothing as assiduously as she had on his. By now he had managed to rid her of her shirt and bra, and all at once bent swiftly forward and took the nipple of her left breast deep into his mouth.
'Oh bloody hell!' she exclaimed with delight.
'Hmm ...' He simply carried on nuzzling.
'Gods, that's good, that is bloody bloody good. Severus ...'
'Severus ...sir,' he corrected.
'Severus, sir. You really are rather naughty, aren't you, Professor?'
'Only when I so choose, and when it proves to be ...' He brought himself up, gazed with appreciation on his handiwork in rendering her nipple so hard and tight it was now a dark, engorged pink, and drawled before lowering himself to the other, ' ... advantageous.'
'Oh shit. I can assure you ... sir ... you are proving to be most bloody advantageous.'
'So, are we well under way to - 'getting jiggy'?'
7. Slowly he reached out for her shoulders, gripping her firmly once he was in contact with her school robe. He felt her jump when his hand touched her; and the faint shake when she realized she was busted.
Severus watched her from above as she closed her book, concealing the erotic magazine. Slowly he lowered his upper body, reaching out for the book. She released it, probably thinking he would take it from her. When he instead opened it to where the magazine was hidden she looked up at him.
He knew she was scared, her skin was paler than normal, her eyes were big and shocked, and she was still shaking. Severus grabbed her chin, turned her head until she was facing the front of the classroom and leaned closer to whisper something in her ear. “Do you enjoy wasting class time with dirty magazines?” It wasn’t a rhetorical question and he demanded an answer. “Do you?”
8. "Are you afraid, Miss Granger?" His silky voice caressed my ear, the heat of his breath setting my skin aflame. "You should be..."
In all honesty, I was terrified. I had initiated this journey knowing that by the end I would be completed or completely broken. I was committed to my course. There would be no half measures, no turning back on this night. My eyes remained closed as I took in the flood of sensations that filled me - the solid feel of the door pressed into my back, long fingers holding my wrists captive above my head, his hard body holding me at his mercy, the evident bulge that strained against my belly. His hand had never stopped fondling and caressing. Graceful fingers kneaded the soft flesh of my breast, brushed the turgid, aching peaks. Once more as I was held in thrall to the responses my body made to him, he breathed his fiery question against my ear. Once more, I was silent, caught up in the moment.
"Answer me..." was hissed in an almost violent tone. "Open your eyes and LOOK at me."
Again, I said nothing and I battled to keep my eyes closed to him. A frisson of fear and passion swept me as my body reacted to his. Suddenly, I was no longer pressed to the door. In one fluid motion my robes were off my shoulders, effectively pinning my arms to my sides and slightly behind me. Before I could even absorb what was happening I was manoeuvered to the nearby desk and pushed onto it. A gentle touch to my chin and I was drowning in liquid obsidian.
9. And, just like Cinderella at the ball, the evening seemed to go by all too quickly. Aside from a few short periods, Severus and I danced together most of the rest of the evening. With each dance, we became more and more comfortable and confident with each other and, with each dance, I knew I was falling more and more in love with him (although of course I’d been doing that for a long while.)
When we stopped, along with everyone else, to gaze heavenwards at the beautiful, enchanted ceiling, Snape whispered provocatively in my ear.
He said: ‘How would you like to star gaze for real? I’m sure I could make you see stars in the nicest possible way. You seem to be giving me all the right signals to tell me that’s what you want – I’ve been reading you for a while, Miss Granger.’
I didn’t miss the twinkle in his eye, accompanied by the seemingly obligatory raised eyebrow.
As the night wore on, our dancing proved to be some kind of slow seduction, with his hands initially slipping from my waist to rub slow, gentle circles across the exposed skin of my back at some point – bare from where the dress dipped daringly. It was done with such subtleness as to go almost unnoticed at first, until I felt the echoing jolt of electricity shoot through me at his deliberately erotic touch, and knew it wasn’t just my imagination.
10. Severus tries to imagine of a time in his life before when it would have seemed possible that he might stand comfortably within a crowd, holding a girl in his arms. He tries to see himself, as he had been before his brush with death, opening his jacket to share the heat of his body with a former student, rather than simply being irritated that she has failed to bring a coat of her own. She had known they were to be out late, after all, unless she had somehow chosen not to believe that the heat of the day would ever fade and give way to darkness? Is not being prepared for the evening part of the enjoyment? She hasn't even bought her handbag – the non-enchanted one that holds little more that lip balm and keys.
He has the sneaking suspicion that she hasn't even brought her wand.
The thought that she trusts him so completely with her safety pulls at something inside his chest. The idea that his chart-making, colour-coding girl is willing to surrender control to him is heady indeed.
Trust, fear, excitement and acceptance are all so mixed up together where the two of them are concerned.
Testing his theory, Severus adjusts his hold on her, freeing one hand to slip quietly inside the light material of her top, awkwardly palming her breast under the fabric and trusting the preoccupation of the crowd to keep them from being noticed. In answer to his silent question, Hermione sighs and lets her weight rest slightly more heavily against his chest, trusting and sweet.
He pinches a nipple, straining his ears to catch her quiet gasp above the enthusiastic noise of the crowd. She won't see this as a display of affection, although for him the sentiment rings true. His beautiful, lovely girl, so still and pliant within his arms.