"Who's it to be this year, then, Remus?" Sirius Black asked.

Lupin scratched his chin and considered the question for a moment. "Tough choice this time `round, Sirius," he replied. "So many shaggable seventh-year girls." "I agree," Black said, blowing the steam from his tea and taking a tentative sip. "What about Hannah Abbott?" he suggested, the hot liquid burning a pleasant path down the middle of his chest. "Nah," Lupin responded. "Not my type. Millicent Bulstrode, perhaps?" "I think we'd best stay away from the Slytherin girls this year, Remus," Black grimaced. "You know how Severus gets about these things." "Agreed," Lupin said ruefully. Too bad. He'd been aching to get his hands on Millicent's magnificent breasts all term. "Ah, I know... how about Hermione Granger?" Black's eyes lit up. "Yes! Just the one! Glad to see all that Wolfsbane potion hasn't dulled your appreciation of the finer things." "You're on, then," Lupin said. "Whoever gets her to bed first wins 25 Galleons." He reached across the staff room table and the two men shook hands, smiling. In the corridor, Professor Severus Snape had overheard their conversation, and he pursed his lips in disapproval. They're at it again, he thought to himself. Something has to be done about this, and soon. He turned and stalked purposely off down the corridor, black robes billowing around him. ********** Hermione stood and gathered her books. Last Potions class of the year, she thought, shoving the books into the bottom of her school bag. No, my last Potions class at Hogwarts, she amended, joining the throng of fellow Gryffindors anxious to vacate Professor Snape's dungeon classroom for the final time. "Miss Granger," Snape called after her, dashing all hopes of a quick escape. "A word with you, if you don't mind." She turned back and made her way down to the front of the classroom, where Snape stood leaning against his desk, arms folded across his chest. She quickly searched her memory, trying to figure out what sort of infraction she might have made, how many points he was going to deduct. Damn, she thought irritably, and Gryffindor was so close to winning the House Cup for the third year in a row. "Yes, Professor?" she asked timidly.

Snape regarded her carefully for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I feel... honor bound to tell you that Professor Lupin and Professor Black have made a bet to see which one of them can sleep with you first," he said simply. Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. "What?!" she responded, one hand instinctively moving to cover her heart. Snape nodded gravely. "Yes, I'm afraid it's true," he replied. "I heard them talking about it in the staff room this morning." Hermione spluttered in outrage, unable to form a complete sentence in response. "They do it every year," Snape continued. "Every year since they both joined the staff here, that is. They choose one of the seventh-year girls and see which one of them can bed her first. It's a big joke to them, I suppose." "It's disgusting!" Hermione rejoined. "How... I mean, what would make them... I can't believe..." Snape gestured toward a chair in front of his desk. "Please, sit down," he said gruffly, discomfited by her display. Hermione did so automatically, her face burning pink with embarrassment and anger. Snape bustled over to a cabinet on one side of the room and removed a bottle of purplish liquid. "Here, drink this," he said, extending the small flask toward Hermione. "It's a relaxing potion, one of my own design. It will help calm you down. Just a few sips will do." Hermione swallowed a mouthful of the bitter liquid and placed the flask on the desk in front of her. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully, staring down into her lap. Within moments she began to feel its effects. Snape nodded and pulled another chair forward so he could sit down next to her. "If you wish to report this to Headmaster Dumbledore, I am willing to provide testimony," he said. She shook her head violently. "No, I couldn't," she replied, aghast at the very idea. "It would be too embarrassing. And besides, Sirius is Harry's godfather. I couldn't turn him in. Harry would never forgive me!" Snape sighed his irritation. "Then I suppose this ludicrous contest will continue to be held each year until one of their victims is willing to put a stop to it," he snapped. "I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be braver than that." He snatched the bottle of potion off his desk and returned it to the cabinet. "Well, now that you know," he continued, crossing the room to stand in front of her again, "just be careful around them. Don't listen to anything either of them tell you, and don't allow them to give you anything to eat or drink. Neither of them can be trusted. Do you understand?" A silent nod.

"You may go, then." She stood and hitched her book bag over one shoulder. The potion was really taking hold now, and she felt very serene in spite of everything she had just been told. Even Snape's glare of disappointment wasn't getting to her the way it usually did. On impulse, she leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Snape recoiled. "What are you doing, Miss Granger?" he demanded, stepping away from her quickly. "I'm sorry, Professor," she said, smiling dreamily. "I couldn't help myself. I really appreciate your help and advice." Snape was dumbstruck, unaccustomed to anything approaching gratitude from a student. "Please, let us speak of it no more," he replied. "No, really," Hermione insisted, advancing toward him until they were standing toe to toe. She reached forward and took his hand. "It was so nice of you to tell me," she said softly, turning grateful eyes to his face. Snape's expression softened as he looked into her warm, brown eyes. "Er... yes," he replied. "You're welcome, I suppose. I must confess, however, that I had a bit of an... ulterior motive for getting involved in this case." "Oh?" she said absentmindedly, still looking deeply into his eyes. "Yes," Snape answered. "I never told you this before, but I have always admired your intellect, Miss Granger. Though I may have acted otherwise, it has been a pleasure having you in this class these last seven years. I'll miss seeing you here. I expect great things from you in the future, Miss Granger." During this little speech, she had taken another step forward so that their bodies were almost touching, and her gaze had wandered from his eyes to his lips. "Is that all?" she asked breathlessly when he had finished speaking. Unable to help himself, Snape cupped her chin with one hand and lifted her head to re-establish eye contact. "That, and the fact that I find you unbearably lovely, Miss Granger," he said silkily. "I couldn't bear the idea of either of those cretins touching you." "Thank you, Professor," she whispered, closing her eyes as Snape bent to kiss her on the forehead. He pulled her yet closer, and she dropped her book bag to the floor, clasping him around the waist as he trailed soft kisses across her cheeks and eyelids. "Sweet..." he murmured, just before claiming her mouth. "So sweet...." Her lips parted and he slipped his tongue between her teeth, pulling her body against his in a powerful embrace. They kissed with abandon, each feeling the pounding of the other's heart as they pressed close, tongues

dancing. Then he kissed his way down her jaw line to the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulder. This soft area of skin smelled warm and delicious, and he nipped at it, delighted to find that it tasted as wonderful as it smelled. She shivered at his touch, a surprised gasp escaping her lips. After a few moments of this luscious torture, she felt him fumbling with the buttons on the front of her uniform. Their mouths found each other once more, and this time she was the aggressor, thrusting his lips apart and stroking the flat of his rough tongue with the side of hers. He managed to get the line of buttons undone despite this onslaught and had just got her blouse open when suddenly, he surprised her by breaking the embrace and pulling back. "No," he said, his breath coming in short bursts. "We can't do this." "Oh yes," she replied, advancing toward him. "Yes, we can." She ran her hands up his chest and gripped his shoulders, drawing him to her again. Kissing him passionately, she wrapped her arms around his neck and stepped backward, pulling him along with her until she was leaning on the edge of his desk. Then she reached around behind her and swept everything within reach to the floor. Yielding to their shared desire, Snape picked her up and placed her on the edge of his desk, spreading her thighs with his knee so he could stand between them. She leaned back on her hands and allowed him to unhook the clasps which held her bra closed between her breasts. He dispensed with them quickly and opened the lacy garment, peeling both it and her blouse off her body, tossing them in a heap on the floor. He moaned inwardly at the sight of her firm breasts and cupped them in both hands, nuzzling the round fullness beneath his fingers. He kissed his way around her nipples, carefully avoiding any actual contact with them, teasing her unmercifully until neither of them could stand it any longer and he had to take one high, puckered point between his lips. He flicked it with the tip of his tongue and pulled on it with his teeth, rolling the other one between his thumb and forefinger. She gasped with delight, wiggling her hips to create some friction between the bulge at his crotch and the most sensitive area of her body. He continued to kiss and tug at her nipple, while allowing his right hand to move slowly down her belly. She hiked her skirt up around her hips as he pulled off her fragrant panties, adding them to the heap of her clothing already on the floor. He dipped the tip of his forefinger into her moist patch, drawing it up through her lips, then pushed forward again until his fingers were nestled deep within her body. She moaned as he stroked in and out of her with two long fingers, tantalizing her with the constant friction against her swollen clit. Her body twitched uncontrollably as he grazed her nipple with his teeth, his hand moving faster between her legs. When he sensed her approaching climax, he stopped suddenly, enjoying the almost panicked look on her face as he withdrew his fingers. "Don't stop," she begged, but he merely smirked, Snape-like, and sank to his knees like a penitent seeking forgiveness. Dying to taste the sweet ambrosia that had oozed between his fingers, he pulled her knees apart and thrust his face into the very center of her wetness. He suckled her clit, occasionally slipping the long tip of his tongue between her lips to lap up more of her sweet essence. She came quickly and he began to pull back, but she would have none of that. Entwining her fingers in his hair, she pressed on the

back of his head and pushed her hips forward against his mouth. He chuckled inwardly as he bent his head and re-applied himself to his pleasant task. She came again with little effort, and then once more, and Snape marveled at it. She's going to make some man very happy some day, he thought. Finally, she released her grip on his head and lay back on the desk, spent. He stood slowly, wiping her sweet juices from his lips with the back of his hand. She looked beautiful lying there like that, naked but for the skirt bunched up around her hips, tangled hair spread out like a fan on the desk beneath her head, breasts and nipples flushed red from her orgasms, the moist area between her legs glistening in the dim light. He suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was fully clothed, but decided not to remedy the situation. Instead, he fumbled at the buttons of his fly and pulled it open, loosening his erection. Then he moved over her, leaning on one arm and guiding his swollen cock between her legs. Her eyes had been closed in the afterglow of her climax, but when she felt his approach they flew open as though she had been struck. His face loomed very close to hers as he worked his way inside her, the expression on his features so serious that the eye contact seemed almost more intimate than the meeting of their flesh. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he propped himself up on both hands, his robes falling around them like a shield. She bucked beneath his long, hard strokes, making unintelligible sounds of pleasure in the back of her throat. When she climaxed yet again, the pressure of her inner muscles contracting around him drove him over the edge, as well. With a loud groan he emptied himself into her, pressing forward as deeply as he could, grinding into her unrestrainedly as he rode the wave of his orgasm. Then he slumped down on her chest, blinking the perspiration from his eyes and trying to catch his breath. They lay coupled that way for several minutes, until their breathing had returned to normal. Then slowly, agonizingly, he pulled the spear of flesh from its home between her legs and straightened up. She burst into goosebumps as the air kissed the sweaty skin of her torso where moments before his warm body had lain. He tucked himself back into his trousers, then bent to retrieve her wrinkled clothing from the floor. "That was magnificent, Miss Granger," he croaked, placing the garments on the desk next to her. "Thank you for giving me something to remember you by." She sat up and smiled that shy smile once again. He favored her with one of his rare warm smiles, took one last look at the beauty of her young body, then turned and swept from the room. ********** "BLOODY HELL!" Black yelled, charging into the staff room the next morning. Startled, Lupin jumped in his seat and began choking on the bite of blueberry muffin he had just taken. He coughed and pounded on his chest with a closed fist until he cleared his airway, then swiped at the corners of his mouth with a cloth napkin. "What on Earth has gotten into you, Sirius?" he demanded.

"Look at this!" Black commanded, thrusting a piece of parchment into Lupin's hand. Remus recognized the handwriting immediately. Gentlemen: It has come to my attention that Hermione Granger is the object of this year's wager. It is my pleasure to inform you that you have already lost. I believe each of you owe me 25 Galleons. Your humble servant, Severus Snape "Oh no," Lupin groaned. "Not again!" "Yes, again!" Black raged. "He did it again! How does that bastard manage to beat both of us out EVERY BLOODY YEAR?!"