Stupid girl, Granger, she told herself blindly, as she faced Severus Snape once more. The look on his face was something akin to terror; he was aghast. But those eyes, those dark eyes, black as the ocean, deep enough to drown in them—they were burning into her from where he stood. Hermione had never been under a lust spell before, but she imagined the sheer self-control required to not be reduced to a twitching pile of need was immense. 