9- Stunning Sights and Shocking Realizations

Standard Disclaimer applies as usual.

Chapter 9- Stunning Sights and Shocking Realizations

Hermione managed to make it back to her room without being sidelined by any other students, mainly because the ones most likely to stop her were also involved in their meetings to listen to the music with Dumbledore or McGonagall. She realized that they were probably taking longer since there were more people in those groups to discuss their characters.

We never got to discuss our characterizations, thought Hermione, frowning slightly at the thought of not completing Dumbledore's assignment. Then she remembered why her meeting with Snape had been cut short and frowned even more. She was glad no one was around to see her flushed face as she sped to her room.

Distracted, she whirled into her room and slammed the door behind her, heaving a sigh of relief as she placed her script back on her desk. She rolled her head about on her neck, trying to ease the strain in her neck and shoulders, then reached up and kneaded her muscles. Stretching backwards again, she grimaced at the sensation of her clothing rubbing against her stiff nipples. Gods! I wish they'd just stop that! It's getting ridiculous...

Scowling at her reflection in her mirror, she removed her robes and laid them across her chair. Just forget about everything for a while, and try to relax. Take a hot bath and let the tension drain out of your muscles before all of that acid makes you feel worse.

Hermione knew from her study of the human body that prolonged adrenaline manufacture caused a build-up of acid in the muscles and if they didn't "fight" and get it out that way, then the build-up would be toxic. That whole "fight or flight" urge. She had definitely wanted to "flee" from Snape earlier.

Her eyes widened again, aghast at her cheek making that comment to Snape. She hadn't felt so terrified of what he might do since they had knocked him out in third year at the Shrieking Shack. She made her way into the bathroom and started the water, making it almost scalding hot, adding some bubble bath with essential oils to aid in relaxation.

She was mechanically undressing when she got to her knickers, which she practically had to peel off, they were so saturated. As she pulled them off, embarrassed at the large wet spot, she detected the scent of her arousal, a faint musk that was certainly not part of her bubble bath. Glancing in the mirror, she saw she was blushing fiercely.

Get a hold of yourself! You need to learn to control yourself, especially now that Harry has stirred up that part of you. There's a time and place for things like that, and Snape's classroom is certainly not one of them!

Hissing and wincing at the scalding heat of the bathwater as she stepped in, she gritted her teeth as she lowered herself into the bubbles, goose flesh spreading all over her body. She stretched out, letting her hair hang over the edge where she propped her head. The water rose up to within an inch of the rim, warning her to not make too many sudden moves, or it would slosh over the side. Of course, the idea was to relax in the tub, so sudden moves weren't likely.

She sighed in pleasure at the heat enveloping her, soothing the taut muscles in her neck and shoulders. Even her nipples released their tightness. She slowly ran her hands over her skin, smoothing away the goose flesh. Determinedly, she slipped her fingers down through her curls, rinsing away the remnants of her excitement, ignoring the delicious pangs that sped through her when she brushed up against her clit.

Honestly! It's enough to have randy boy to deal with; you don't need to add to the problem by becoming a randy girl yourself! You have much more important things to be thinking about and spending your time on than having erotic fantasies about... people! Even in the privacy of her own mind, she shied away from acknowledging which people were included in that statement.

She reached for her wand. "Accio music box." The music box flew into her outstretched hand and she placed it on the toilet lid beside the tub after setting the volume to a low level. I might as well practice while I'm in here since I can't do anything else... She opened the box and settled back into the hot, foamy water to listen, waiting for her parts to start, so she could sing softly with the music.

**** *******

Back in the common room, Harry climbed in through the portrait hole ahead of Ron and looked around for Hermione. He frowned when he looked at the time.

"Surely she and Snape must be done by now. There're only two of them, so it couldn't have taken as long as our group did." He looked at Ron, puzzled.

Ron shrugged, glancing around as well. "I dunno, mate. Maybe she's in the library?"

"Maybe. Or she could be in her room, studying. Let's go find out." Harry motioned for Ron to follow him, but Ron didn't move.

Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, Ron looked at Harry, a half smile on his face and said, "Uh, no. I'll go see if she's in the library, and you check to see if she's in her room." He winked at Harry and grinned suggestively. "I'll send her up to find you if I see her in the library."

Harry paused, at first irritated at the delay, then he smiled deviously when he grokked Ron's meaning. "Uh, right. Yeah, you do that. I'll see you later?"

Ron shrugged airily and said, "Sure. Just let me know when you get in tonight, eh? I want to know all the gory details." He rubbed his hands together in a caricature of an evil scientist concocting his nefarious plan.

Harry snorted, but he mock-punched Ron in the arm. "You sick bastard. What makes you think I'd tell you anything?" He fought back his grin and looked haughtily down his nose at Ron.

Ron's expression turned to one of dismay and he stretched his hands out, palms up. "Hey! I got you two together, didn't I? I deserve a cut of the profits! Really, mate, you should thank me. If I had really turned on the Weasley charm last summer, she'd be attached to me for life, and you'd never have had a chance, but I let her down easy, since I didn't want to be tied down yet." He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and sniffed arrogantly, looking for all the world like a red-headed Draco Malfoy.

Harry covered his mouth as he let out a huge guffaw. He kept laughing, tears spilling from behind his glasses as Ron affected an offended countenance and stared at Harry. Finally, Ron couldn't hold it in anymore and his egotistical pose cracked as he grinned widely and chuckled along with Harry.

Harry, gasping for breath, gripped Ron's forearm and squeezed in appreciation. "That was bloody hysterical! Gods, you looked like Malfoy! I'll have to remind you to do your ferret impression for Hermione sometime. Okay, you're right. You know I couldn't keep everything to myself anyway, and besides, who else can I talk to besides you, since Sirius is gone?" His smile faltered a bit, but then he recovered himself and looked gratefully back at Ron. Ron nodded understandingly and smiled back. Slightly chastened, he patted Harry on the back and pushed him toward Hermione's room.

"Go on. I'll see you later. Tell her I said hi."

Harry just grinned at him and strode off. Ron rolled his eyes, smirking, and climbed the stairs to his bed.

Harry was still smiling in the aftermath of Ron's silliness. He made his way to Hermione's door and knocked. After a pause, he tried again. There was no answer.

"Hermione? You there?" He looked up and down the corridor and knocked again. Still no answer. Frowning, he tried the knob. He was astonished to feel it turn. Unlocked? That's not like Hermione. I wonder if everything's all right. Harry knew he no longer had to be so paranoid now that Voldemort was gone, but old habits die hard, and his apprehension grew.

Quietly, slowly, he turned the knob and opened the door. Just as quietly and slowly, he pushed the door into the room. His wand at the ready, he cautiously stepped into her room and looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary presented itself. Crookshanks walked up and started winding around Harry's ankles, purring. Crookshanks wouldn't be doing that if anything was wrong, he thought with relief.

Glancing back out into the corridor, he shut the door behind him, locking it. He walked around to her desk and saw her script and Dumbledore's message on it. She must be back. Where is she? He stepped toward the bathroom and saw her school robes draped on her chair. His stomach flip-flopped. Feeling his pulse quicken, he looked at the door to the bathroom. It was pulled closed, but not latched. He heard a faint strain of music from within. She must be in there; and she's listening to the play. But, if she's in there, what is she doing?

He took a deep breath and sidled up to the door, listening hard. He could hear the music playing softly, but he didn't hear anything else of note. Standing there, breathing heavily with suppressed excitement, he inhaled the fragrant aromas from inside the bathroom. Wound tightly like a bowstring, he gently pushed the door open a crack. He could see a sliver of the floor, upon which what appeared to be Hermione's clothes were piled. Harry inhaled sharply, a jolt of excitement coursing through him at the view of her clothes rumpled on the floor. It meant that they were no longer on her, and he burned at the thought.

Crookshanks followed Harry to the door, still purring. He tried to wind around his ankles again, to get his attention, to no avail. So, he started to bump his head against Harry's shins. Pushing against him, Crookshanks eventually slid off Harry's leg and hit the door, which pushed open farther. Harry pulled back, terrified that she would see him. Heart pounding, he tried to steady his ragged breathing as he heard the bathwater swooshing. Hermione's voice wafted out, "Hello, Crookshanks. Coming to keep me company? You don't want me to pet you right now, I'm all wet!" He heard more water rippling and dripping against the background of the music. He recognized it as Carlotta singing "Think of Me."

He heard Hermione snort, "Well, be that way, cat. Everything's not always about you, you know!" He looked down to see Crookshanks stalking out of the bathroom, tail high, and an expression of haughty indignation on his face. He gave Harry a supercilious glare as he passed him to curl up in the armchair. Since when can that cat have such an expressive face? Harry thought, slightly dazed.

He moved stealthily back to where he could see into the bathroom. He saw her clothes on the floor and felt his stomach flutter again. The sight of her bra draped over her shirt caused a tightening in his groin. Then, he noticed her knickers farther away. He couldn't tear his eyes off them. Even from his vantage point, he could see the large darker moist spot in the centre. He almost felt faint at the sight. Probably from blood pressure dropping 'cause it's headed elsewhere... he mused, his cock throbbing. He knew she was in the tub, in all her glory, and he was but a few feet from her. He closed his eyes in pained entreaty. Gods, what wouldn't I give to be in there too!

Holding his breath, he moved farther, trying to see the tub. Finally, he could see her, bubbles up to her neck, hair cascading over the end, eyes closed as she listened to the music. He sighed inaudibly, devouring her with his eyes, wishing he were bold enough to charm the bubbles away. He was standing stock still, just staring, when he heard her start to sing softly with her song "Think of Me."

She was singing with her eyes closed, just soaking in the water. The acoustics of the bathroom made her voice sound even better as she sang along with the music box. Harry smiled, charmed by her singing. Wow. She won't need the spell at all. I never knew she could sing! He listened to the words of the song, smiling even more to himself as he thought, I most certainly will think of you. I can't stop thinking of you. Then, as his part began, he nodded fervently in agreement with his line, "What a change; you're really not a bit the gawkish girl that once you were." The music continued, through the part with Meg and onto his duet scene with Hermione in her dressing room. He watched Hermione smile as she sang her part of their scene. At least she looks like she's happy to share the scene with me...

Their scene together ended and the music changed. Hermione stopped smiling when the Phantom's voice came on. Harry was amazed by the emotion in her voice when she sang in response. He couldn't tear himself away, watching her in the tub, singing with such intensity. The Phantom's duet with Christine began after he took her through the mirror on his way to the dungeon. Hermione lifted her dripping hands from the water and languidly ran them through her hair, gathering up the stray strands that were making their way into the bubbles. Raising her arms like that brought her body up out of the water slightly and Harry's breath caught, urging her to move up more, so he could see her.

She draped her hands along the sides of the tub, and her chest rose and fell in the water as she breathed enough to sing. Her skin was glistening wet and Harry reached down to adjust his uncomfortable erection. He could hear his breath getting ragged with desire and was glad she couldn't hear him over the music and her own voice. He squeezed himself through his trousers and almost groaned at the pleasure it evoked.

Hermione was singing louder now. Her throat was filling as it relaxed to let the pure sounds out. The duet was coming to its climax and she was matching the recording of Christine's extravagant vocalizing. She was almost bobbing up and down in the water as she filled her lungs for the dizzying climbs of sound. At the final crescendo, her head canted back, extending her throat completely, and she went almost rigid as she hit the highest note. Harry gasped. In doing so, she had risen out of the water and he could see her breasts, shining damp in the light, her nipples dark and inviting. He gripped himself in a spasm of surprise and was even more shocked to feel himself coming, just from seeing her. He suppressed a moan as he felt the shudders course through him, and the warm wetness spread inside his boxers.

Harry backed away and leant against the wall, gulping air, as he tried to compose himself, sheepishly grabbing for his wand...the real one...to cast a cleansing charm on himself. He could feel the heat radiating from his face, and he knew he was probably beet red. He also knew there was no way he could stay here any longer. If she ever found out what he had done, she'd kill him. He didn't fancy the idea of her hexing him either, knowing her prowess. He heard the faint lapping of the water around her as she was quiet, listening to the Phantom's song. He gave himself a few moments to calm down before he moved again.

He warred with himself about looking again before he left, but it was the sound that decided it. He heard her moan softly. Straining his ears to listen, he heard her breathing deeply. The water was barely lapping, and she moaned again. Astounded at the animal quality of the sound, Harry held his breath as he crept closer to look again. She was submerged in the water again, her head lolling back on the edge. She rolled her head back and forth slightly, but her eyes were closed. Her right hand was under the water, and the left was gripping the side edge of the tub. The water lapping was coming from the disturbance under the water.

Harry felt a drawing in his loins again, and was momentarily thankful he was a resilient teenager. Bloody hell! Is she doing what I think she's doing? Harry didn't dare blink as he watched her, guessing at what that submerged hand was doing. As the song continued, he nearly burst out of his own skin as she lifted her left hand and arched her back up out of the water. He felt his mouth go dry as he watched her gently run her fingers over her breasts, sliding her hand over her nipples and cupping the underside in her palm. Oh fuck! She is doing it!

Her breathing increased and the water sloshed more. Then, as the Phantom sang, "Let your soul take you where you long to be!" she arched up, moaning and gasping, shuddering as she came. She let out a long quavery sigh as he continued, "Only then can you belong to me."

Harry was dumbstruck at the sight. He couldn't have moved or spoken if his life depended on it. He could barely breathe. The song continued in its last verse and Hermione smiled in satisfaction, breathing deeply in her afterglow. As the song finished, she opened her eyes, starting to sit up, apparently done with her bath, and Harry panicked. He wrenched himself back from the doorway, wishing he could Apparate away. Desperately hoping she would not hear or see him, he made a mad dash for the door. He heard the water start draining and the splashing sound of her standing to get her towel. The strains of the Phantom's composing started and he heard Hermione singing with Christine again.

He felt the sweat oozing out of his pores as he tried to unlock the door with shaking fingers. Finally, he got it open and he closed it behind him quietly, hearing the Phantom yelling. Pausing a moment to look up and down the corridor, he sighed heavily and swallowed against the dryness in his throat. Making sure he could walk on his shaky legs, he made his way back to his room.

When he entered, he saw that Ron was still up, reading his script. The others were either already in bed with the curtains drawn or weren't up there yet. As soon as Harry walked in, Ron looked up and threw down the script.

Eagerly, he asked, "So, was she there? What happened?"

Harry felt his colour rise and looked away, disconcerted. "Uh, no. She didn't answer the door. Did you see her in the library?" He kept his eyes averted as he quickly crossed to his bed. Normally he would have just stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed in his shorts, but he was still at half-mast and didn't want to undress in front of Ron like that.

Ron cocked his head, confused. "Um, I didn't go to the library, 'cause I was sure she would be in her room. Besides, if she wasn't there, where have you been all this time?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with something plausible. Shite. I can't say I went to the library, 'cause I just asked him if he went. Think! He sat on his bed and leant down to take off his shoes, hiding his face and giving himself an excuse to not answer right away. When he had taken both shoes off, he sat up and quickly pulled his shirt up over his face to take it off. Then he made a show of catching his glasses in his shirt and having to disentangle himself and resettle his glasses. Finally, he looked back up at Ron, who had just cleared his throat.

"What's that?" Harry said casually.

Ron scowled at him, exasperated. "I said, where have you been all this time if you weren't with Hermione?"

Harry shrugged airily and said, "Oh, I went down to check the notice board. You know, to see if the next meeting was posted yet. I waited by Hermione's door a few minutes in case she came up, and then I went downstairs."

Ron's eyes narrowed as he eyed Harry calculatingly. "So, if I ask Hermione tomorrow if she saw you, she'd say she didn't?" Ron crossed his arms in front of his chest challengingly.

Harry gulped. Gods, I hope so! "Sure, Ron. She didn't see me. Ask her." Harry met Ron's accusing glare and held it until the other boy finally huffed and rolled his eyes. Harry sighed to himself with relief.

"Fine. But, sod it all, I thought I'd at least get to hear something good tonight!" Ron tossed his script to the floor petulantly and sulkingly punched his pillow. He shot a discontented glare at Harry who simply shrugged innocently. "Oh, all right. Guess I'll go to bed then." He yanked his curtains around his bed, but paused before completely secluding himself to toss out a resigned, "Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Ron." Harry almost wilted in relief when Ron's curtains were completely shut. He drew his own curtains and lay down on his bed, wriggling out of his trousers and letting them drop to the floor beside his bed. He burrowed under his covers and lay there, staring at the ceiling. I can't believe I just saw that! He blinked rapidly. Thinking about it again sent more tingles to his crotch. He yanked his glasses off and ground his fists into his eyes, trying to blot out the images of Hermione pleasuring herself and orgasming. He felt his cock stiffening again and was dismayed.

He knew that all of the fellas wanked off. Hell, he did too. It was just something you didn't mention, since you could usually tell by the sounds, even with the curtains drawn. It didn't matter much, but he didn't want to do it tonight, not with Ron already suspicious. It might lead him to keep questioning him.

I'll just think of something else. Something that will make it go away. Now, what is the most unsexy thing I can think of? He pondered for a moment, thinking of trolls, Voldemort, his parents... But his erection was still there. Then he thought of Snape. His cock bobbed a bit lower. Aha! Snape. I can't think of anything less sexy than that! Wait, Snape is going to be playing opposite Hermione, trying to seduce her... ugh! Yup, that does it! Harry felt his arousal melting away. Images of the great greasy git trying to be romantic and seductive turned his stomach and completely obliterated all desire. He sighed with relief that he was back to normal and rolled over on his stomach, to hopefully divert any further attempts to rise again. He felt his adrenaline rush crashing after the events of the evening and gratefully dropped off to sleep.

**** *********

Hermione came to her senses, coming down from the high of her orgasm, and briskly decided that she needed to get out of the bath. I wonder if I need to stop taking baths; they've been far too conducive to, erm, distracting thoughts recently. She opened her eyes and sat up, reaching to drain the tub. She kept singing with the music as she stood and wrapped her towel around her. Stepping out of the tub, she spied her stained knickers again and flushed.

For Merlin's sake, I need to get a hold of myself. I can't just keep going around in a sexual frenzy! She realized that she had come more times in the past two days than she had in the previous months. She dried off with the towel, rubbing her skin to a soft glow. She was deliciously warm from the water and from her excitement.

Suddenly, the Phantom started yelling at Christine in the recording. Hermione stopped, thinking about her horrible comment to Snape earlier. She had expected him to explode like this once she realized what she had done, but instead he was quiet. Too quiet. She shuddered again in remembered terror. She couldn't stop looking into his eyes, petrified.

In her mind, she saw those black eyes. They were at once both hard and deep. She felt like she could fall into the tunnels of his ebony eyes, but that if she tried, she'd be knocked back by the stony barrier within them. She closed her eyes as she felt his finger on her lips again. She was waiting for him to crush her in those long fingers. Instead, his touch was gentle, feather-light.

Her lips tingled. She licked them. Then, her eyes flew open as it came rushing back to her. She had licked his finger! Gripping the sink edge, her knees suddenly weak, she looked in the mirror. Her face was pale in shock. I didn't remember that until now. Oh gods, what have I done? How could I dare? I can't face him again. I licked his finger!

She was trembling. Then she heard the Phantom singing again. "Fear can turn to love..." Damn it! Why does that line keep jumping out at me? Shaking her head, trying to calm herself, she shakily gathered up her clothes and dumped them in the hamper, avoiding looking at her knickers and the evidence of how aroused she had been in Snape's presence. She walked into her room and put on her nightgown, hesitating a moment when reaching for new knickers. Then, sternly, she forced herself to pick them up and put them on. No need to feed the fire...

She walked back into the bathroom to close the music box, put it on her nightstand again, then crawled into bed and doused the light. Crookshanks apparently forgave her and jumped up to snuggle at her feet, purring.

Hermione lay in the darkness, thinking hard. I can't believe I did that! Oh gods, he's going to kill me... Then, her brow furrowed in confusion. But, he didn't do anything while I was still there... I don't understand. If he was going to punish me for impertinence, he would have done so right then, wouldn't he? He went easy on me. Why? I mean, I know I apologized, but he hadn't even said anything before that. He just... looked at me, and then walked away. I've never seen him look at anyone like that before either. She shivered lightly. And then he even spoke to me... voluntarily! It was like he was treating me like an adult, not a student. It was nice. And was that a smile right before I left? It looked like he was trying to smile, but it wasn't evil like his other smiles have been. He should smile more; it made him look so much nicer, so much more approachable.

A faint, bemused smile played on her lips. Then, that new, randy part of her piped up. Approachable, eh? Well, you certainly tried to approach him earlier. Just what would you have done if he had taken you up on that invitation? Hmm?

Hermione's smile disappeared instantly. Apprehensive, she thought back to how aroused she had felt when she had made so bold as to lick his finger and...what had she said? You practically invited him to "show his feelings" with you! And you know you meant those kinds of feelings when you said it.

She closed her eyes, writhing in embarrassment. Bloody hell... I wonder how obvious it was? Could he see everything in my face? Carefully, she cast back to the very beginning of the meeting, replaying everything that had happened. She remembered his snide comments, how she had got angry at him, him slamming the box shut to yell at her, how annoyed he had been that she knew her part, how she had drowned in the Phantom's song and had...

Hermione's eyes flew open again and she gasped. She remembered her heated response to the song and how she had felt like she had been touching herself like she had the night before during Christine's vocal climb. That's why my knickers are so soiled! Mercy on me, I actually came in front of Snape! She felt her stomach clench painfully, and fleetingly wondered if she was going to vomit, but she steeled herself and fought down the rising bile. Oh, gods! I have completely disgraced myself. It had to be obvious! And he was looking at me afterwards! I remember just staring into those fathomless black eyes. He was the one to finally look away. I bet he was disgusted and appalled. How utterly shameless! And then I had the gall to keep staring at him later too!

Feeling a new rush of heat to her already flaming cheeks, she recalled how she had been just gazing at him and he had shut the box again, wanting to know what her problem was. I couldn't dare tell him that I was wondering about him and whom he might have loved previously. Surely he must have had someone in his life. He couldn't always have been so... moody and shut off from everyone. But if I had said that I was wondering about "the man behind the monster," or rather, "the man behind the Potions Master," he would have probably thrown me out of his classroom, taking loads of points off Gryffindor, and giving me a month of detentions! She sighed in remembered relief that she had come up with that cover question about him singing. Although, I was truly interested. I really can't wait to hear him sing. His voice does something to me; I can only imagine it'll be even more powerful when he uses it to sing that beautiful poetry.

Hermione pressed a hand against her chest, trying to calm her rapid breathing and racing pulse. It can't be healthy to go from terror to desire and back again so much! she thought, ruefully. I just need to put it all out of my mind and pretend it never happened. I can only assume Snape will do the same, especially since he didn't say anything about it tonight already. She paused to fervently hope that would be the case.

This weekend has been far too eventful. Just focus on your assignment and do what you have to to perform well. There's no reason to let yourself get so worked up about things, and it's pointless to develop a crush on a teacher anyway! Even if he felt the same way... She paused as she felt her breath hitch and a twinge in her chest. He couldn't do anything about it, so it's ridiculous to even think about it. Besides, you have N.E.W.T.s coming up, and Head Girl responsibilities, and your future after leaving school to plan for, and this production to prepare for, and the competition to win... The last thing you need is to waste time and energy thinking about a relationship that could never happen.

She doggedly recounted all of her responsibilities. Sternly, she chided herself for her heated, lustful thoughts and resolutely determined to put them out of her mind. She did her best to ignore the pang of regret at her decision, involuntarily thinking again of the intensity barely contained within the obsidian eyes of her Potions Master and co-star.

You have to be able to perform with Snape. You have to be able to act professionally. Letting yourself feel these things will only complicate matters and set yourself up to get hurt. Forget about it. It's hopeless.

Hermione rolled over onto her side, trying not to feel a little sad about locking away the feelings she finally admitted, having previously denied them at every turn. Firmly diverting her mind from Snape, she started re-reading Hogwarts: A History in her mind, having already memorized it after re-reading it so many times. Focusing on that, she slowly fell asleep.