Genre: Smut, PWP
Pairing: Severus/Hermione, mentioned Blaise/Hermione
Rating: NC17 – sexual situations
Warnings: Possible non-con depending on how you look at it.
Summary: Hermione learns about control.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Distribution: My personal site(s). Please ask first anywhere else.
Author’s Note: My first attempt at Hermione/Severus. Written spare of the moment and probably a much covered idea already, lol.
Feedback: Please, feel free.
Professor Snape, Hermione has discovered, was not above a little cheating in order to get what he wanted. The trait is something which she thinks should be entirely expected of the man. He may be old blood, a man who professes his own integrity with a degree of frequency in order to prove his own superiority, he may even be a teacher and therefore supposedly above such things but there is a decidedly nasty streak running through the wizard that a person would have to be blind to miss.
For example, she is nearly certain that the first time that they had kissed it was because he had performed a tiny little to remove her inhibitions, therefore leaving her open to the subtle advances that he made during a detention he had given her one afternoon.
Somewhat dazed and over-awed by the presence of the man she had come to grudgingly respect because of his work for the order Hermione had submitted readily enough – not protesting in the slightest when the man had slipped one hand underneath her robe to squeeze her breast through her white cotton shirt until it had felt plump and sore. Indeed the firm, authoritative, demanding touch of the man had instead created a pleasantly warm sensation in the pit of her stomach that Hermione had only ever felt before when laid in her own bed, imagining what it would feel like to have Blaise Zabini between her virgin thighs, riding her body until she grunted and twisted and moaned with pleasure.
Several minutes later - when Professor Snape had broken the kiss and looked down at her with a look that seemed to be mixed of desire and disgust – Hermione had been unsurprised to find that clutching her thighs together created shot sharp shocks of pleasure and that her panties seemed to be so soaked that even said thighs were wet. Unable to speak, not entirely sure that she believed what had just happened *had* happened Hermione had stared at the indifferent posture of the dark wizard in shock before shooting to her feet and tearing from the room.
At dinner that evening she had rather carefully avoided looking in the direction of the teacher’s table, instead fixing her eyes so solidly on her plate of food that more than once Harry or Ron or Ginny felt compelled to ask whether she was feeling well. Flushing violently Hermione had nodded briefly, offering by way of explanation for her peculiar behaviour that she thought she might be coming down with a cold. Her friends smiled, giving her sympathetic little comments before turning back to their food and diving back into the conversation they had been having about Quidditch.
For the next two days Hermione successfully managed to avoid any and all contact with the potion’s master and infinitely thankful that she did not have a class scheduled with him. Even the thought of being in the same room as him was nearly unbearable as a flurry of mixed emotions raced through her mind. On the one hand she was very much aware that whatever it was the Professor had done to her – or even that he had contemplated doing it was wrong and something that would certainly have the school’s board of governors up in arms. On the other hand it was impossible to forget the fact that the first thing she had needed to do on returning to the Gryffindor tower was change in a fresh pair of *dry* knickers and throw her old ones into the wash. That knowledge alone made the usually intelligent brunette stop and bit her lip thoughtfully. Was there a chance that she had perhaps unknowing done something to make her teacher think that she *wanted* him to kiss her?
The question, as strange as it had seemed, had remained annoyingly unanswered ever since as Hermione had tried to decide upon a better explanation and failed time and time again.
On the third day however her luck ran out. There was no escaping the fact that her second class of the day was potions and since she was entirely aware that missing such an important class when her N.E.W.T exams were so close was unthinkable Hermione also knew that she would have to attend it. Her only consolation laid in the fact that Ron and Harry would be with her and the hope that their presence would be some kind of protection.
For a while it seemed her prayers had been answered. The lesson seemed to go painfully slowly but at the same time peacefully. Professor Snape seemed determined to belittle Neville even more than usual but not once did he even look in her direction!
Then, to her horror, just as she was packing up her bag along with the other students to go to their next class he wound his way over towards the desk she shared with her friends. For the first time in her life Hermione actually found herself wishing that Harry was in trouble but once more her hopes were dashed as the man sneered at her and said, “Miss Granger. Perhaps you think that it is acceptable behaviour for a Head Girl to run off halfway through her detention without the slightest word and leaving her task unfinished but I do not. You will repeat the detention this evening. Be prompt.”
Her heart was pounding in her mouth as she walked down the final flight of steps that would lead her to the potions room in the dungeon at the appointed hour for her detention. Harry and Ron had commiserated with her heartily at managing to get on the wrong side of Snape once again, thankfully not realising what she would have done in their situation and asking exactly *why* she had run off from her detention in the first place. Neither had they managed to provide her with a good enough reason to avoid going to it. Their suggestions had been so preposterous that Hermione had found herself wondering whether it might not just be better not to offer an explanation at all. The certain knowledge that doing so would only get her into more trouble however lingered over the Head Girl’s head and thus found her walking the last few steps to the door to the potions lab with increasingly reluctance.
She peered around the door carefully before stepping into the room, half afraid that the man she had tried to hard to avoid might leap out at her. Professor Snape however was seated behind his desk, staring down at some papers without apparently noticing that Hermione had even arrived.
Steeling herself and silently hoping he might have changed his mind about the detention Hermione wandered over to the desk, trying not to seem too self-conscious as she did so.
“Miss Granger,” Snape announced before she had crossed even half the distance, causing Hermione to freeze on the spot as he did so. He looked up abruptly, swivelling around on his chair so that he was facing her and smiled in such a way that the brunette found that the heart that had been pounding in her mouth plummeted right down to the bottom of her stomach. Only once before had she seen him look so sly and that had been right before he had given Harry a particularly terrible punishment. The desire to flee the room filled her once more.
“Come here,” he ordered.
Hermione frowned a little in confusion, not quite understanding what he meant. Her eyes widened slightly as it dawned on her that he meant approach *him* and not the desk before him.
“Now, Miss Granger,” he added when she hesitated a longer still.
Forcing her feet to move the Head Girl walked slowly around the side of the desk, coming to a halt at the small step that would lead her up onto the platform where the Professor was seated. He gestured for her to move closer once more however and against her better judgement Hermione found that she stepped up so that she was standing directly before him.
The sly smile on Snape’s face widened and he stood. “We are not here to discuss what happened the other evening,” he told her. “I have no desire to know why you choose to display such insubordination. Instead you are to be taught a lesson.”
Dry-mouthed Hermione said, “I don’t understand.”
Snape leaned closer, putting his sharp features close to hers before speaking. “Punishment, Miss Granger. I have decided you need to be punished in proportion to your crime.”
A shiver ran through the young witch and she darted out her tongue in a futile attempt to wet her lips. Something had stirred in her as he had spoken; something had caused her to shiver and it wasn’t just the sound of delight in the man’s voice at the prospect of being able to punish her. It unfurled itself slowly; revealing itself gradually to the witch’s dismay to be a thin tendril of arousal that was distinctly similar to that she had felt only a few days before.
“Now do you understand?” the Professor asked.
Hermione took a long breath. It felt almost as if the very same urge she had felt the other day had returned. She breathed, “I think so.”
“Good,” Snape said and reached forwards to take hold of her arm.
He steered her around slowly until she was facing the rest of the classroom, all the while holding on her arm with deceptive gentleness. Hermione was not foolish enough to think if she tried to pull away that he would not tightened his grip, that he would not allow it to become painful. As she stopped turning he gave her a few small pushes forwards until she was stood pressed against the line of the desk then lifted his hand from her arm and placed it on the back of her neck.
Hermione started and would have moved backwards if it wasn’t for the fact that she knew doing so would mean that she would become pressed against the teacher. Instead she held herself rigid, resisting slightly as he began to push her face down towards the surface of the desk. She even pressed her hands against the surface, uncomfortable in the peculiar new position but even more so with the flood of images that flashed through her mind with it. Squeezing her eyes shut Hermione tried to push them down – nearly managing until she felt the potions master’s long black robes blush against the back of her legs.
“You will stay there,” he said. “You will not move or there will be *serious* consequences.”
Hermione swallowed and nodded her head, brushing her face against the grain of the wood.
The man behind her moved once more. At first Hermione could not tell to where and then her entire body tensed as she was given and answer. He took hold of the hem of her skirt, pushing it up until it was bunched around her waist and exposed her bottom clad only in a pair of simple white cotton briefs to the cool air of the dungeon room. Fighting the tension in her body, wanting to move, to get away, and yet at the same time finding that she was unable to make herself do so Hermione leaned her forehead against the desktop and waited for what she was certain was coming next.
Fingers brushed over the base of her spine, running down until it found the elasticised top of her knickers which was quickly plucking away from her skin. Hands slipped inside, twisting and moving downwards until they came across the globes of her bottom and squeezed them almost thoughtfully. The Professor’s fingers felt icy against her heated flesh and yet the feeling only seemed to stir the arousal within her body that had been threatening even more. Hermione breathed out a small ragged breath as she felt the first hints of moisture begin to creep from between her legs, wetting the fabric that was nestled there.
Still the hands moved down though, pushing until the panties slid over her hips and down her thighs. The white material formed puddle around her ankles and a second later Hermione felt the unexpected sensation of the Professor taking hold of each one of her ankles in turn and lifting them. Climbing to his feet once more Snape raised the garment to his face and Hermione heard the unmistakable sound of him sniffing them before chuckling.
“These are quite ruined,” he told her with faux-sincerity. “I will… *dispose* of them for you.”
Silently Hermione nodded, too caught up in the knowledge that her haughty, vicious potion’s teacher was now no doubt studying her naked behind to care. She flushed, startled by the unexpected discovery that she found the thought exciting. Nothing stood between a perfect view of her rump and the hard critical eyes of the devious, possibly even dangerous man behind her.
She shifted, rubbing her thighs together in an effort to alleviate some of the abrupt tension caused by her arousal only to jump a second later as the Professor brought his hand down hard across her arse. A cry of surprise escaped her, muffled by the desk.
“I told you not to move,” he said sternly.
Biting her lip and trembling slightly Hermione said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
The Professor made a tutting noise. “You have no respect Miss Granger. *That* is your problem. I intend to rectify it. Now, perhaps you would like to try again.”
Hermione bit her lip and thought. She could feel the Professor’s fingers trailing over the newly sensitised flesh of her bottom and it was distracting. All she could really think about was that she wanted him to slide those long spidery digits somewhere that might help relieved the growing ache she was experiencing.
Fighting for concentration the witch said, “Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.”
The finger pressed into her a little more firmly, caressing her with even strokes. “You always were a quick study. Keep it up and there might be a reward in it for you.”
The fingers moved only to be replaced by the brush of his tough black robes. Taking another step forwards Snape covered Hermione’s arse with his body and made her gasp. It didn’t take two guesses to figure out what the hardness that she could feel was. Hermione’s body, ripe with arousal, reacted instinctively and thurst backwards towards her Professor’s groin making him hiss and move. A moment later the palm of his large hand once more connected with her bottom and Hermione whimpered a small protest.
“We may have to work on your ability to control yourself as well.”
Once more Hermione nodded her head, rubbing it against the desk. She waited for the next reprimand to come, feeling anticipation rippling through her at the idea. Her bottom tingled where she had been struck, a constant reminder of the fact that it had been far from unpleasant and added to the moisture pooling at her groin.
It didn’t come though. Instead Hermione felt the brush of his robes against her side as Snape leaned down and put his mouth close to her ear. “That, however, is a lesson for another day,” he said and abruptly thrust one long finger deep into her.
Hermione let out a startled gasp and then a whimper as he quickly withdrew and added another. She stretched around him, virgin walls fighting every step of the way despite the slickness of her body. He twisted them, working her and creating delicious friction as he did. Her hips twitched and she pushed her sweat covered hands onto the desk to give her some leverage to thrust backwards though she only managed to do so a few short times before the Professor withdrew his touch once more.
Not daring to look back over her shoulder, finding the sensation of not knowing what might come next for once exciting, Hermione waited blindly - trembling in excitement as she did so. Snape seemed determined to make her wait; increasing her agonised frustration with each additional passing moment. Tantalising sounds reached the brunette’s ears; cloth whispering against cloth dominating for the most. Her breath for coming in heavy bursts that left her shoulders shaking by the time she felt his touch next. Deft fingers danced over her bottom, tracing the line from the puckered hole down to the bright heat. Hermione tensed as she felt the Professor take hold of her hip with one hand and part the sopping folds of her pussy with the other.
A long low groan erupted from the man behind her as he eased himself inside her tight hole even as Hermione cried out at the intrusion. He’d worked her until she became looser though not nearly enough that the sensation of his cock, long and hard and unyielding, did not leave her burning. Heat folded into Hermione’s flesh and she arched her back, trying to find someway to make Snape’s presence inside her more comfortable. Whether he was seeking to help her or not Snape did so. Gripping her hips and holding onto them he shifted within the confines of her body, stretching her further though not unpleasantly so.
The relief was momentarily. The potion’s master lifted her sharply, pulling her backwards as he impaled her fully. Hermione cried out as pain blossomed deep inside her, turning into small sharp bursts of burning as Snape drew back and then thrust again. He built up a rhythm, lifting the small brunette from her bent position with each new entry and causing her body to rub against the desk. Her breasts pressed against the wood, swollen and sensitive; her nipples sending flickers of pleasure through her with each new movement. A moment later and she found herself being pulled into a position which was very nearly upright; leg spread wide as Snape thrust up into her and snaked a hand around to cup her left breast and squeeze almost painfully while the other dipped down to rub the sensitive nub between her legs.
Unable to stop herself Hermione cried out, clutching the edge of the desk until her fingers turned white in order to stop from falling over as her legs began to tremble violently. It felt almost as if she could not breathe. She choked, struggling to suck in a huge draughts of air as the tension in her body seemed to grow unbearable.
He seemed to be swelling inside her; his thrusts becoming more and more erratic but no less wonderfully pleasurable. In her ear she could hear him panting and wondered whether his heart was pounding quite as furiously as her own was. The heat between them was almost searing.
Fingers roughened by years of practical work nipped her clit suddenly and rolled it, twisting it and causing the bundle of pressure that had been growing increasingly larger low in her body to burst and flood out. Electricity filtered through her entire body leaving her straining upwards, forgetting to breathe until her vision began to fade and she was left with no option but to slump forwards onto the desk once more as her limbs turned limp.
The Professor thrust into once, twice more and then spilled over into Hermione’s still grasping channel then slumped over, covering her body with his as he did so while still loosely holding onto her.
“I knew this would arouse you Miss Granger,” he said, letting to words come with a slight purr before observing, “Those in control always secretly desire to give it up.”
Hermione shivered slightly as his voice brushed over her, his words ringing true almost instantly.