Though it held some knowledge of the transfiguration curse, she doubted it was like that. The jet had been purple and its effect wasn’t horrific. It felt more like a stupefy than anything painful or maiming. With a sigh Hermione set the book down and turned down the lights with a flick of her wand and settled into bed. Sleep for the first hour came tossing and turning until it almost felt like someone else had entered the room and seemed to twist magic. Then she was deep asleep and dreaming, while knowing she was dreaming. In a very embarrassing fantasy that if she acknowledged it in real life shed be horrified. Hermione was left alone in the potions classroom with Snape. She had dreams like this before where she almost desperately wanted to feel something so salacious. So wrong, but it felt extremely good to the baser part of her brain. 