Hermione suddenly awoke from her nightmare, cold, damp and gasping for air.

She didn’t fare well in tight spaces.

She had dreamt of unending confinement in a dark, mildewy cell, its gray, leaky walls stained with salt perspiration from the North Sea.

But reality provided little comfort for her.

The fire was quietly dying in the grate, and the combination of stale cigarettes and expensive brandy made her dizzy and nauseous.

Then she realized she was naked, tangled in sweat-tinged sheets, situated directly over a sticky, wet stain.

A deep, rich voice added to her humiliation. “Sweet dreams, Miss Granger?”

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Originally written for the LJ GrangerSnape100 stain challenge.