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You were his favorite student. Rather than admit it, he would have been willing to go through the fires of Hell but that was the plain truth. He had a little, tiny, imperceptible preference for you. Ah and by imperceptible, you meant a euphemism to say that, from your point of view, it was quite obvious.
Getting an Outstanding in any potions with Professor Snape was practically impossible and yet you, with who-knows-what miracle at the hands of who-knows-what god, you had been able to get it. And you were the only one in your class who had succeeded, the only one who had decided to continue until the last year with the course of Advanced Second Level Potions. The professor hadn't explicitly offered you the position of assistant potionist at the end of your studies at Hogwarts, but you had had a strange conversation about what you could do once you finished your studies.
"I took the liberty of verifying your preparation in the other subjects - those that deserve to be called such, because divination isn't one of them, I am amazed you're taking the course - and I must admit that you are quite a prepared student. You will be able to choose any apprenticeship at the end of this course" he had commented, in one of the many afternoons spent in the laboratory. You worked and he stayed there, next to you, to observe and pass an ingredient from time to time, while he illustrated the steps of your concoctions.
You laughed. "Quite prepared? Sounds almost like a compliment, Professor. Anyway, I chose divination because at least I have a couple of hours a week where I don't have to do anything but sleep on the bench."
If you could have sworn it, you'd say you saw a half-smile on his lips. "How very Slytherin of you, Miss."
"However I accept." He had raised his famous eyebrow and kept looking at you doubtfully. You shrugged, smiling mischievously. "Well I'll wait for your official offer to do the apprenticeship with you, but you already know my answer."
Yes, he let you joke and it was... adorable. Severus Snape was ironic, clever, pungent in his comments: so difficult had it been to be able to relate to him in the early years, so easy was it at that moment. He was the smartest company you could enjoy during the week. How could you compare your shaved and list less peers, to Severus Snape? He was such a man. So dark, he radiated an imposing and intense energy, his assertive gaze and his eyes as black as the night sky and...
"Miss" he said, snapping his fingers in front of your nose. You felt your cheeks flush with heat and you stammered for a moment, trying to find an explanation that wasn't embarrassing. Don't look at his hands - good Merlin, the things he could do with those... no! Don't think about those things. When you lifted his eyes he looked more confused than you. "You're distracted today."
"I'm thoughtful."
"And pray tell me what are you thinking so profound that you forget you have to add tarantula poison at this point in the potion?" he hissed, approaching you, sliding by your side with an undecipherable expression. Suddenly, the potions room had gotten hotter than it already was.
You smiled rather embarrassed and quickly grabbed the tarantula poison, opening the bottle distractedly. You didn't have time to notice the look of panic on Snape's face as the tube slipped from your hand, inexorably towards the boiling cauldron. He wasn't fast enough. All the ingredient poured into the cauldron and suddenly..!
"That's all?" you asked. Only a few drops of the potion had splashed on your hands, which were directly above the cauldron and were partly soiled up to the wrists. The concoction wasn't too hot either. Yet Snape continued to look... pissed off and unnerved.
"Don't touch anything" he said, his voice firm but deep and worried.
"But I have to continue the potion! If I don't add the roots now..." and with these words you tried to reach out to the pot of herbs on the table, but he stopped you.
Perhaps unaware of the potion on your arm, he reached out his hand. "Stop, you unbearable dunderheard!" he exclaimed, grabbed your wrist to stop you.
"Ok! Good heavens, I'm sorry, ok? I won't be distracted anymore."
"That's not the problem, silly girl."
"Well then what are you so worried about... Could you leave - please - my - professor! - my wrist!"
Severus closed his eyes and shook his head. As you shook your hand, he swore under his breath. "Stop it. It's too late. Your stupid mistake caused this, don't you see? You turned your potion into a powerful glue, you damn fool!"
"It's not my fault..."
"It's not your fault?!" he growled. He raised the hand he was holding, took a step forward until he was directly in front of you. Chest to chest, the scent of him was intoxicating: wild herbs and masculine aftershave, he was everywhere around you and you had to close your eyes and inhale, for a moment, to stay in control. When you looked at him, he had an apparent hatred in his eyes, but behind, behind the appearance there was more. His breathing quickened, his heartbeat that you could see on his throat, his lips that were suddenly more scarlet.
"It's not my fault if you distract me!" you blathered, before you knew it, blushing violently.
"Oh, is that so? I'm so detestable that..."
"Professor you are everything - everything - except detestable." Where you had found the courage, you did not know, but his eyes were so deep and dark, and in yours there was an undeniable light and devotion. He could see it: the young, best student of him, a pearl he didn't want to be separated from. He would never have had the faintest idea of even offering you a handshake as long as you were there in his classroom as a student, but now it was all so sudden, different and you were so close, your hair smelled so sweet, your lips were so inviting.
He walked forward. "Don't touch anything, just trust me" he whispered. His every step forward was your step backwards, every time he advanced you felt his body against yours, his clothes radiating heat, his hand around your pulsating wrist gripping your bare skin and... your back stopped against a shelf. Never taking his eyes off you, he grabbed a bottle on a shelf and dropped the cork with the tip of his thumb. "This ointment will dissolve the glue. You'll feel it warm, and wet." His voice was sin itself, original sin, and as he slid the liquid onto his hand wrapped around your wrist, the bare skin of your arm wasn't the only part of your body that was wet. The oil dissolved the glue on your wrist and you immediately rubbed your hands over each other, wiping off the glue. Snape kept looking at you, he hadn't separated from you and you were praying, pleading in your head that he didn't. Please stay, good Merlin, never stop touching me.
He seems to be smirking for a moment. His hand lifted to your face. "You're dirty here" he said. His thumb slid down your jaw, from your chin to your neck, tracing a line of moist ointment on your skin.
Don't think about sucking his thumb, don't think about sucking his thumb, don't think about sucking his...
Oh, he knew he'd have you. Your sweet naivety was so fiery and exciting, your shining eyes watching him as he touched you with seeming innocence was so compelling. As his palm rested on your neck, his thumb came back and stroked your lower lip.
"You're dirty here too" he said and the sound of those words was really perverse and sinful and... the tip of your tongue met his fingertip and he stopped. His heavy breathing was upon you, your panting filling the entire room. His eyes burned with passion as you literally died of desire in the palm of his hand.
He would have you. Not at that moment, not in the classroom with the risk of someone entering while he ravished you and you moaned his name, impaled on his cock. Even though he had the feeling that at that moment you wanted nothing more. With all his self-control, he withdrew his hand.
"Detention, miss. Tonight, after dinner. You'll show me how much you're willing to do to fix this mess." When he smiled, arching a corner of his lips, you blushed again. Something told you that you already knew what awaited you. And you were dying to find out.