Professor Snape Bangs AgainThis story is another one of Ms-Figg of fanfiction.net
Professor Snape Bangs Again
"Professor Snape, you can just…just…stuff yourself!" Hermione screamed at the Potions Master.
A collective gasp went up from the rest of the seventh year Potions class at Hermione Granger's outburst. The witch was insane!
Ever since they had returned from the Christmas break, the Gryffindor witch had been decidedly acting more and more disrespectful to Professor Snape, losing a large amount of points for her house, having her grades slashed and getting repeated detentions with Filch. It was as if she had declared some kind of war on the dour wizard.
Snape looked at the witch, a terrible expression on his face. The little spitfire had become impertinent toward him since he had sex with her and threw her out of his rooms on New Year's Eve. He had expected her to be reticent, embarrassed and ashamed of herself afterwards…but instead Hermione was angry, and her anger increased daily.
The Professor had taken her through the mill that night and rode her unmercifully after luring the eighteen-year-old witch to his rooms. He seduced her by appealing to her intellect, promising her a pleasurable experience. But the pleasure was all his as he tore into her virgin body brutally, informing her afterwards that his treatment was an education of sorts, and now she knew that a wizard would say anything to get under her robes. Then he fed her a slew of pain and healing potions and put her out.
He had not counted on her becoming insubordinate. She had taken to speaking to him very disrespectfully in class, challenging his theories and interrupting his lectures worse than ever before. She argued over her marks in class, the moment she received them, claiming he was purposely sabotaging her grade point average and threatening to bring him before the Board of Magical Education for a hearing. She did these things in front of the other students, and was disrupting the aura of terror he worked so hard to establish over his pupils. If Hermione stood up to him, then eventually others would attempt it as well.
Now she had blatantly told him to go stuff himself because of her latest marks. And done so publicly. This couldn't go on. He had to do something.
"What did you say to me, Miss Granger?" he asked her in a low dangerous voice that made the rest of the students blanch.
"I told you to go stuff yourself, you greasy git!" Hermione shouted at him again.
That was the rock cake that broke the hippogriff's back.
The Potions Master stood up, walked around his desk and stood in front of the first row desk Hermione was seated at. Her face was flushed and her amber eyes flashed up at him, narrowed and hateful.
"Miss Granger, up to this point I have tried the normal methods to control your dismal, disruptive and disrespectful behavior in my classroom. Obviously, they do not work since you continue to challenge me. Since point loss and detention seem to have no effect…" the Potions Master began
Suddenly the Professor's hand shot out and he grabbed Hermione by her collar and hauled her shrieking over the desk, pulling her against him.
"…I am forced to punish you in another fashion," he finished, backing up to his desk with the struggling, screaming witch.
"Get your fucking hands off me!" Hermione screamed.
"I see I have to add foul language to your list of offenses," the Potions Master said, sitting on his desk and wrestling the small witch across his lap.
The entire class was silent and wide-eyed. Surely Professor Snape wasn't going to…
The Professor pulled up Hermione's robes, her skirt and lowered her knickers. She screamed as she felt the air hit her naked bottom. The Professor smirked and began spanking her, hard, the witch screaming as his large pale hand whacked her flesh over and over. Several wizards found themselves with wood as the Professor poured it on, smacking her jiggling flesh over and over, the witch crying now, tears streaming down her face.
"You will address me with respect Miss Granger, and follow protocol when you have a dispute," the Professor said, whipping her until her buttocks was bright, bright red and Hermione was begging him to let her go. He didn't listen but continued to wallop her. After about ten minutes of hard spanking, the Potions Master did let her go, pulling up her knickers over her crimson bum and lowering her skirt and robes. He released the witch, who scrambled away from him, horror and pain on her face.
He had spanked her naked behind in front of the entire seventh year Potions class! How could he do such a thing?
Hermione looked at the class, most of who were smirking at her. This would be all over Hogwarts the minute they were let out. Hermione had tears streaming down her face, horribly embarrassed and ashamed that she was so publicly humiliated. Her bottom hurt like hell. She couldn't sit on it. Professor Snape wasn't going to get away with this. She'd have him sacked!
Grabbing her books, Hermione ran for the classroom door.
The Professor, who was still sitting on his desk with his arms folded, watched her go then called out, "Fifty points from Gryffindor for leaving my class without permission, Miss Granger!"
She didn't care. She exited the classroom and straight for the Headmaster's office. Snape would pay.
Hermione stood in the Headmaster's office, Professor Snape sitting in an armchair facing Albus Dumbledore, a bored look on his face as the wizard viewed a pensieve he had provided of Hermione's actions since she returned from holiday.
After a while, Albus removed his finger from the pensieve and looked at Hermione, his eyes dark.
"Miss Granger, your actions in Professor Snape's classroom are startling and quite out of character. You are insolent, rude and disruptive. In addition you are not following protocol in dealing with disputes. How do you explain this?"
Hermione flushed at Dumbledore's assessment of her behavior. He was completely right. But he didn't know what the Professor had done to her. Telling him would do no good though since she freely consented to engage the Potions Master. Plus she didn't want anyone to know what she had done with the wizard.
"He is unbearable, Headmaster. I just can't take him anymore," she said, her eyes glistening.
"Then I suggest you drop my class, Miss Granger, rather than disrupt it and negatively affect the students that can bear me," the Professor purred.
"I can't drop your class now," Hermione spat at the wizard, "I need it to graduate properly."
"Well, I can assure you that your current marks in my class are not stellar. Your treasured grade point average has plummeted significantly because of your actions towards me. I do not only mark for grades, Miss Granger, but attitude as well. Yours is dismal to say the least…currently your mark is zero," the Professor said with an evil smirk, "Attitude is twenty-five percent of your grade."
Hermione stared at him. Shit. She hadn't known that.
"You look shocked, Miss Granger," the wizard said, his dark eyes glittering. "You have no one to blame but yourself."
Hermione looked at Dumbledore.
"Headmaster, he pulled my knickers down and spanked me to tears in front of the entire class! Surely he can't get away with that?" she said to the Headmaster imploringly.
Dumbledore looked at her.
"I'm afraid he can, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said quietly
Hermione's mouth dropped open and a distinctly smug look appeared on the Potions Master's face.
"What?" she exclaimed, looking from Dumbledore to Snape to Dumbledore again, "You can't mean that, Headmaster!"
He nodded soberly.
"Physical punishment of a student is allowed when standard punishments do not have an effect. It is a standard Hogwarts rule, in place for centuries though little utilized. Spanking is an accepted form of punishment for students that do not responded to other methods of correction. After viewing this pensieve, Miss Granger, I have to say that the Potions Master was well within his rights to punish you for your insubordination in such a manner. Embarrassing as it was, Miss Granger, you did indeed bring it on yourself. Your behavior has been this way for several weeks despite corrective measures."
"Professor Snape must maintain control in his classroom and cannot afford to have one irate student constantly disrupting it. And since the Potions Master's treatment of you has not altered in any way I can see, then you will just have to buck up and accept what happened to you," Dumbledore said, "In addition, you have shown absolutely no consideration for your fellow students, costing Gryffindor a total of five hundred points in the past three weeks. They will have to hustle to get back in the running for the house cup. You are not acting yourself, Miss Granger. Is there a reason for your hostility toward the Potions Master that you need to get off your chest?"
Hermione looked at the Professor, whose eyes glinted at her knowingly.
"Tell the Headmaster if I've done anything to offend you, Miss Granger," he purred at her.
Hermione wanted to hex that smug look off of Snape's face badly, or at least curse him. But she couldn't bring herself to tell the Headmaster the wizard had sex with her then threw her out of his rooms on New Years Eve.
Her shoulders slumped. She was beaten.
"No, Headmaster. It is just seventh year stress I guess," she responded.
Albus didn't believe her. Something was going on here. But if the witch wouldn't say what, there was nothing he could do.
"If it is stress, Miss Granger, then I suggest you go to Madame Pomfrey and get a potion to ease the effects. Your behavior at this time is entirely unacceptable, and you must do something about it. I suggest you get yourself under control in Professor Snape's class or more than likely you will continue to receive this sort of public chastising. I know you don't want that," Dumbledore said sympathetically.
"Yes Headmaster," said Hermione.
She turned to leave.
"Oh Miss Granger, I believe an apology for your behavior towards me is warranted," Professor Snape said silkily.
Hermione scowled at him.
"It may be warranted, Professor…but you'll never get one from me," she responded, storming from the room.
Albus' eyebrows rose at the witch's response. He was quite disturbed. This was so unlike Miss Granger. He turned his eyes on Severus suspiciously.
"Is there something you need to tell me about Miss Granger, Severus?" he asked the dark wizard, his eyes leveled on him evenly.
"Only that she is the most contrary, disruptive, aggravating student currently enrolled in my class, Headmaster," the Professor responded.
Albus stared at him for a moment. The Professor evidenced no reaction of guilt. But he wouldn't. He was a spy after all. Hiding the truth was his specialty after all.
"Very well, Severus, you may go," he said, dismissing the wizard who stood up. "Hopefully this will be the last incident with Miss Granger."
"I highly doubt that Headmaster. The witch is too emotional and hardheaded. She may act reasonably for a few days, but I suspect her behavior will revert back to what it is now…and if I have to spank her every day, I will," the Potions Master said.
Dumbledore shook his head.
"It is your class, Severus, and it is your right to run it as you see fit. But sometimes understanding is more effective than punishment," Dumbledore said.
"Not in my world," Severus replied, "Good day, Headmaster."
"Good day, Severus," the Headmaster replied.
He watched as the dark wizard departed his office. Most likely he had taken great pleasure in publicly humiliating the witch. He leaned toward things like that. Albus wondered how different the wizard might have been if not forced to serve the Dark Lord as a double agent for the Order all these years.
He seemed to have a dark, somber personality to start with, but maybe he would have been more compassionate if he himself had experienced compassion. Such immersion in evil had to have an effect. It was as if the wizard was marinated in wickedness. He couldn't help but be flavored by it.
Whatever Miss Granger's problem was, he hoped she'd get over it. Severus would love to continue his humiliation of her, and would continue if given the opportunity.
Severus walked back toward the dungeons, taking the shifting stairs. His mind was on the spanking he had given the witch. He smiled nastily. He had enjoyed beating her smooth soft buttocks until they were deep red. If he had done it in private, he would have finished it up by shagging her brutally, pounding against her already sore bottom unmercifully as she howled. The wizard felt himself hardening and let out a little hiss.
Hermione Granger was old news. Been there…done that. And quite thoroughly too.
But damn she was asking for it. If she kept fucking with him, she was going to get it too, and worse than before. The Potions Master hated insubordination in any form
Severus turned down the dungeon corridors and toward his rooms, his erection refusing to go down.
He'd most likely have to take the matter in hand.
As the Potions Master walked down the corridor, he saw someone standing in front of his office door.
It was Hermione Granger.
The Potions Master's eyes narrowed. So now the little chit wanted to talk to him after trying to get him sacked, eh? Well, then.
Severus approached his office door, robes billowing, his eyes fixed on the student waiting for him. He stopped, unwarded it, and without looking at Hermione opened it, went in and shut it behind him.
Hermione scowled blackly. He saw her standing right there, the bloody bastard.
The witch took a deep breath. She was here to talk about her grade after all. When she left Dumbledore's office she realized her marks were in serious trouble because of the Potions Master. It was difficult for muggle-borns to get scholarships. They had to have almost perfect grades, and the university Hermione wanted to attend was very expensive. She would need a scholarship to attend.
She wanted to know what her marks were right now, and what she would have to do to get them up. She knew her attitude would have to change markedly. But, she didn't see how she could do it. Even when she was on her best behavior the Potions Master didn't seem too enthusiastic with her. In fact, he never was. Out of all her teachers, he was the one she could never please, the one who would never give her perfect marks, no matter how much she deserved them. She suspected it was because she was a Gryffindor and close friends with Harry Potter, who the Professor seemed to despise. Plus, she'd done some underhanded things concerning the wizard in past years…things she suspected he knew.
Shit. Now she had to try and talk to him. Plus he had treated her like a trick.
Hermione took a deep breath and calmed herself. He had ignored her on purpose, probably to try and get her started again. Probably so he could spank her some more. Oh, she hated him.
Hermione knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" the Potions Master called, irritation plain in his voice.
Hermione wanted to say, "You know perfectly well who it is you black-hearted fuck!" but instead she said, "It's Hermione Granger, Professor. I want to talk to you about my grades."
This was met with silence for several minutes.
Hermione knocked again.
"Professor?" she called.
Suddenly the door was yanked open, and Severus looked down at the witch, scowling blackly.
"You're supposed to make an appointment to see me, Miss Granger. You continually refuse to follow protocol," he snarled at her.
"But you don't have a class now. I don't see why…" she began.
"Just because I don't have a class, Miss Granger, doesn't mean I am available to any and everyone who knocks on my door. I have matters to attend to between classes. That's why you make an appointment," he said to her scowling.
"Fine," Hermione said, "When are you available to talk to me, Professor?"
The Potions Master's eyes glinted at her.
"Eight o'clock tonight, Miss Granger," he said silkily.
"But that is after regular office hours, Professor," she complained, "plus it only gives me an hour before curfew."
"If you want to talk to me, Miss Granger, that is the time to do it. My next available opening is two weeks from now, at the same time," he purred, "and as for curfew, I can easily give you a note saying you were in conference with me for your Head of House."
Hermione looked skeptical.
"I am making a special allowance for you, Miss Granger, which I think is very generous considering your horrible behavior these past couple of weeks. Behavior which is, in my opinion, unwarranted," he said, looking down at her.
"Unwarranted?" Hermione said, heating up again.
He shags the hell out of her and kicks her out, then says her anger is unwarranted. Why that dirty….
Hermione calmed herself. Severus noted with satisfaction the hatred that flared up in her eyes. He enjoyed being hated. It gave itself to so many opportunities to rankle the hater.
"Yes, unwarranted. Now if you don't want to take advantage of my kindness, Miss Granger, I suggest you be off and wait to find out your grade at the end of March like everyone else," he crooned, knowing the witch wouldn't want that.
Hermione sighed. She didn't have a choice really if she wanted to repair the damage she'd done by June. The sooner she got to work on it, the better.
"All right, Professor, I will be here at eight o'clock sharp," she said.
"Fine. I'll be on pins and needles until you arrive," he said sarcastically, closing the door in the witch's face.
Hermione stared at the door, then thrust her middle finger up at it. She turned abruptly and stalked down the hall, her backpack slung across one shoulder, and both fists balled. Now she had to go and face the rest of Hogwarts, which was probably all abuzz with the news that Hermione got spanked with her knickers down in front of the whole Potions class.
This was going to be horrible.
And it was horrible. The first person she ran into was Draco Malfoy. He was heading for Slytherin House and with his ever present goons, Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom were lamenting the fact they weren't smart enough for Snape's seventh year class and that they had missed the unveiling and consequent reddening of Hermione's behind.
Draco hadn't missed it, however and was just tickled that the little know-it-all was made to bare it all.
"How's your ass, Granger?" he drawled at her as she walked swiftly past him.
"Shut up, Malfoy," she seethed.
Draco laughed, turning around as she passed him.
"I wouldn't mind taking a whack at it myself," he called to her, "you've got some jiggle to your wiggle, witch. Much more than I ever would have expected."
"Fuck you, Draco," Hermione turned and yelled at him, just as she entered the main hall and the Head Boy walked by. He scowled and pulled out his pad.
"Twenty points for foul language, Miss Granger," he said, writing her offense down on his pad.
"Oh shit," Hermione said, then covered her mouth in horror.
"That'll be ten more points, Miss Granger. I suggest you find some other words to express anger and surprise," the Head Boy said, looking at her evenly before walking away.
Hermione heard Draco, Crabbe and Goyle laughing hysterically. They were far down the corridor now.
Hermione looked around to see if anyone was around to observe her. The coast was clear. She pulled out her wand and fired a random bat-bogey hex down the corridor and bolted for Gryffindor Tower.
She hit the three Slytherins squarely with the bat bogies. They were covered with the cell-like, mucousy things.
Unfortunately, she got the Potions Master too, who was on his way up the corridor. He needed to check Poppy's stores. A bat bogey hit him squarely in the face, and latched on to it, cutting off his air supply for a moment as he ripped and tore at the disgusting thing. It came off in sticky, nasty chunks, which he flung to the floor. He spluttered, his face black as he looked at the three Slytherins who were engaged in similar activity.
"Who did this?" he roared at them, pulling out his wand and scourgifying himself, the floor and his charges.
"I'm pretty sure it was Hermione Granger, Professor Snape," Draco said as Crabbe and Goyle nodded stupidly. "She walked by us with an attitude, and cursed at me for absolutely no reason. The Head Boy wrote her up for it."
The Potions Master scowled blackly.
"Did you see her throw the hex, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked him, black eyes flashing.
"Well, no sir. I didn't. But based on her attitude when she passed us…" the blonde student began.
"You have to see her throw the hex, Mr. Malfoy…you know that. Ten points from Slytherin," the Potions Master said, straightening his robes.
"But…but why?" Draco asked, upset at the loss of points.
"Because I wouldn't have been hit by the hex if not for you three," the Potions Master replied, "Now get to your house."
The three students hurried down the corridor, grumbling about unfair Head of Houses.
Severus continued up the hall, pissed. He knew Hermione had thrown that hex at his Slytherins, who were probably teasing her about the spanking she'd received. Draco had witnessed it after all, and the Potions Master knew the pureblood never missed a chance to harass Miss Granger.
Well, that was just another issue to address with Miss Granger tonight.
The Potions Master hardened slightly.
If things worked his way, issues wouldn't be the only things he'd be addressing with the witch tonight.
He entered the main hall and walked up the main stairwell.
He needed to get Poppy's stores out the way so his evening would be free.
Panting, Hermione arrived in front of the Fat Lady
"Piss Pot," she said to the painting
The Fat Lady gave Hermione a look of disgust, then swung open. The portrait hated this new student-password selection process the Headmaster had started. The Gryffindors and other houses put several suggestions in a hat, then the Head of House chose one, and it became the password for the month. "Moldy Manure", "Dangling Dingleberries," and "Piss Pot" were some of the latest horrid passwords she had to endure hundreds of time a day, and frankly it grated her delicate sensibilities. But Dumbledore claimed it made the students feel more a "part of the process" and there was no talking to him.
Little did she know the next password was going to be "Dumbledore's Diarrhea."
When Hermione walked into the common room, a group of wizards were gathered around the sofa, talking animatedly about the spanking and more…her ass.
"Did you see how nice and round it was?" Dean Thomas said dreamily, making a round motion with both hands as if framing a melon, "For the first time in my life, I actually wanted to BE Professor Snape, scary as that sounds."
"Yeah," Seamus Finnigan agreed, "It just got so…pink. Mmmm. I bet it was soft. It certainly was jiggly."
He made a smacking motion with his palm.
"Well, personally…it called for more than spanking. All I could think about was shagging her from the back. There would be a lot of slapping, that's for sure," Dean Thomas said.
Everything went quiet, and Dean looked around at his mates, then his eyes fell on Hermione who was standing next to the sofa, her hands on her hip. The wizard swallowed, his black skin paling a bit.
"Oh…er…hi Hermione," the wizard said lamely.
Hermione whipped out her wand, turned Dean into a rather slimy frog, then stormed up the girl's dormitory stairs.
The other students looked down at the transformed Dean, then at each other.
"Rippet," Dean croaked plaintively.
Several wizards drew out their wands, ready to attempt to change him back, including Neville Longbottom. Dean took one look at the inept young wizard's wand and leapt off the sofa, intent on escape.
It took half an hour to corner the wizard, and another hour to transform him back. He went through several incarnations of amphibian, newt, salamander, tadpole, caecilian and toad before they set him to rights, and the moment he turned back, Dean started brawling. The common room was a total shambles by the time everyone calmed down.
As the wizards nursed their bruises, Seamus asked, "Do we want to report what happened to McGonagall?"
Everyone shook his or her heads.
"Then we'd have to tell her what made Hermione turn me into a frog. I'm just glad she didn't hex my bollocks off," Dean said, holding a handkerchief to his eye. "But still, you have to admit she has one sweet bum."
The other wizards murmured in agreement.
Harry and Ron were off at Quidditch practice, so didn't witness Hermione's ire or hear what the students were saying about her. If they had, there would have been another brawl, probably with hexes flying. When the two entered the common room and saw the mess and the injured wizards, their eyes went round.
"Oy! What happened in here?" Ron said, looking at the overturned furniture, scattered books and parchments.
Harry adjusted his glasses, taking in the carnage. He wondered if this had anything to do with Hermione. She had a horrible temper after all. After what happened with her and Snape, he imagined she was ready to hex at a moment's notice.
"Did Hermione do this?" Harry asked the wizards, who looked at each other.
"Well, not directly," Neville said before being jabbed with several elbows.
Harry and Ron were Hermione's friends. They wouldn't take kindly to what they had been saying about her.
Both Harry and Ron scowled.
"What do you mean 'not directly?'" Ron asked, his blue eyes narrowed as he looked at Neville.
"Well," Neville said, figuring he was all in for it now, "Hermione turned Dean into a frog, and we had a time turning him back, then we had a bit of brawl."
Harry's green eyes turned on the black wizard.
"Why'd she turn you into a frog?" he asked Dean, who scowled at him. He wasn't afraid of Harry or Ron. He could say what he wanted.
"Because I was talking about her getting spanked by Snape," he responded. "It's not like everyone else isn't. She just chose to hex me."
This was true enough. Even the staff was discussing it, being divided on the issue of whether a male teacher should spank a female student. There was going to be talk for a while about it.
"Where is she?" Harry asked the wizards.
They all pointed to the stairs leading to the girl's dormitory.
Harry studied the stairwell for a moment, then reached in his pocket and pulled out his reduced firebolt. Taking out his wand, he returned it to normal size, mounted it, and flew up to the dormitory landing, effectively getting around the sliding staircase.
"Hey, why didn't we think about that?" Seamus said, watching Harry disappear around the corner.
"Because you're all idiots," Ron said evenly, pulling out his broom too and following Harry.
Ron touched down on the landing, reduced his broom and headed for Hermione's room. This was the first time he and Harry had let any of the other students see them go to the girl's dorms, simply because they knew once the wizard's started emulating them, someone would get caught and Professor McGonagall would ban brooms from the common room. But this was an emergency. Hermione needed them.
Ron walked up to Hermione's door and pushed it open, to find Hermione surrounded by her female classmates, who were trying to comfort her. Parvati Patil and Romilda Vane sat on either side of her on the bed, while Ginny stood nearby. Parvati was brushing Hermione's hair, the witch claiming that always made her feel better.
"Professor Snape is just evil. I can't believe Dumbledore let him get away with doing that to you, Hermione," Ginny Weasley said.
"What?" Ron said, enraged. "Dumbledore wouldn't do anything? That bastard ought to be sacked!"
"Spanking is allowed when regular methods of correction don't work," Hermione sighed. "I didn't know that."
"I've never heard of anyone being publicly spanked with their knickers down at Hogwarts," Harry said, his green eyes looking at his friend worriedly. "But are you all right, Hermione?"
She looked up at the wizard.
"My bum hurts and my pride is whipped, but other than that, I'll be fine, Harry," she said.
Of course, after his initial anger, Ron had to make a bad situation worse.
"Well, you know Hermione, you've been acting crazy in the Professor's class and losing us a bunch of House points in the process. You should have acted better. You did kind of force his hand, now that I think about it." Ron said.
Everyone in the room yelled at him.
"But it's true. Hermione should know better than to confront Professor Snape like that. He's the meanest teacher in Hogwarts. She should have known he'd do something nasty if she kept it up," Ron said, looking at Hermione with his eyes narrowed.
"Why are you acting this way, Hermione? It's not like you," he said, frowning.
Harry was thinking the same thing.
"It's stress," Hermione lied, "I'm under a lot of pressure to get my grades up."
"Snape has probably dropped your grades because of how you've been acting Hermione," Harry said, "So you're defeating your own purpose acting this way. Won't you tell us what's bothering you? I know something is."
"Did he do something to you, Hermione?" Ron demanded, zeroing right in on the witch. "Tell us what he did. He must have done something."
Hermione was not about to admit she let the Professor shag her on New Years Eve because she felt lonely and randy. Not only would that be embarrassing, it would make Ron and Harry feel guilty that they were enjoying themselves without thinking of her. They hadn't even noticed she'd left the party with Snape. The two would be down on themselves. Hermione didn't want that.
The wizards had done nothing wrong. Plus Ron, idiot that he was, would probably try to call the Professor out for a duel or something, and end up a pile of ash. She didn't doubt the Professor would take him up on it. He was just that mean. He would probably tell them that she came to his bed willingly, which she did. Hermione flushed as she thought about the things she'd done to him and let him do to her.
Everyone noticed the flush.
"Come on, Hermione…did he do something to you?" Ginny asked her, her brow furrowed.
"No. No! He didn't do anything to me. I'm just stressed out, and he is such a bastard all the time. I just can't take his attitude any more," she lied vehemently.
This was something they all could understand. Professor Snape was the snarky, most sarcastic and most unfair teacher in all of Hogwarts, and he never gave Hermione a break. She really could just be at the end of her rope with the git. But she had to get a hold on herself. He was a teacher, so he had the advantage.
"Well, Hermione…I'm really sorry what happened," Harry said sympathetically. "Let me know if I can do anything to make you feel better."
"Same here, Hermione," Ron said. He knew what he said wasn't what Hermione wanted to hear, but he felt she needed to hear it. He hated to think it, but she really had brought it on herself. Still, if he could make her feel better in any way, he'd try to do it. He cared about the witch very much. The idea of Snape's hand on her so intimately made him furious, even if it wasn't sexual. And he wasn't sure it wasn't.
Hermione looked around at her friends. She really appreciated them trying to comfort her, but wanted to be alone.
"You can all do something for me," she said hesitatingly, "give me a little space. I need to be alone for a bit."
"Sure, Hermione. We can do that. If you need us, just call us," Parvarti said, kissing her on her cheek and exiting the bed. Ginny kissed her too, then she and Parvati returned to their own rooms.
"Bye Hermione," Romilda said, "Bye Harry. Ron."
"Bye, Romilda," all three said together as the witch exited.
"Well, we'll see you Hermione. Come get us if you need us," Harry said, giving her a peck on the cheek.
"Yeah," Ron said, looking awkward, his hands shoved in his robes pockets.
He had never got the hang of kissing Hermione like a brother simply because he liked her too much, though he knew they would always just be friends. They had a long talk about it, and Hermione made him see it just wasn't going to happen. Still, he couldn't kiss her like it really didn't matter. Because it did.
"See you, Hermione," Ron said exiting the room, followed by Harry who gave her a smile and wave in parting. They'd slide down the stairs.
Alone, Hermione lay back in her bed and looked up at the ceiling. She really had brought this on herself. She had thought initially that she could handle what happened with the Professor. What did she expect from him other than coldness? That was what he had always shown her. Shown everyone actually.
Afterwards, the Professor said doing her had been "fun" so he never took it seriously. She had wanted to have sex for the first time with someone with experience and he provided that experience. If she wanted connection, she should have never chose to sleep with a wizard like him. Had she thought he would change toward her? No, logically she didn't…but didn't count on the emotional response she would have later on.
He had been inside her, knew her intimately. She had performed fellatio on him for gods sakes and he had performed oral sex on her too. So much passed between them that night. For the wizard, he had just got some virgin ass. For Hermione it had been affecting.
True to his nature, the Potions Master showed nothing. He acted as if nothing occurred between them at all. The wizard didn't even gloat, or give her knowing glances. He acted like he'd always acted, like a right bastard.
Hermione began to resent him for his non-interest, for having no reaction to her. It was as if she had been nothing. Indeed, she was nothing to him but a release and a way to bring in his New Year pleasurably. She had done it, he thanked her and it was done as far as the wizard was concerned, and she was angry about it.
She realized her attitude was a childish way of trying to make the Professor notice her in some way, react to her. She wanted the wizard to know she had feelings and wasn't what he made her out to be, a little piece of available trim he had indulged in. She was actually angry with herself as well. She should have never gone to his rooms. He had manipulated her, but in the end it was she who agreed to have impersonal sex with him. And it really was impersonal when all was said and done.
She was blaming the Professor for being what he always was. He was no youngster to fall head over heels with a witch just because he had sex with her. The wizard probably shagged and left witches hanging all the time. He was a spy after all. He couldn't have relationships, and she doubted if he wanted any. She certainly didn't want him. She just couldn't take the feeling that she wasn't something special. She had always been special at whatever she undertook. The Professor had made her feel common, and she hated him for that. Passionately.
Hermione sighed. Whatever. What was done was done. Now she had to concentrate on finding a way to up her grades in Potions or she wouldn't be attending the school of her choice. She hoped Professor Snape would be reasonable tonight.
But she had no reason to believe he would be.
Eight o'clock found Hermione standing outside Professor Snape's office. She wore jeans, a red t-shirt and trainers. It was after hours after all and she wasn't required to wear a school uniform when classes were out. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
"Come in, Miss Granger," answered the Potions Master.
Hermione pushed the door open to find Professor Snape sitting down at his desk. Obviously he didn't wear robes after hours either. He sat behind his desk looking at her, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing a white fitted shirt, the first two buttons open, black pants and black boots. Hermione thought he looked a bit like a pirate for some reason. He certainly had the personality of one.
"Are you going to stand there gaping at me, or are you going to sit down, Miss Granger?" he asked her snarkily, his eyes raking over her clothing. "You're dressed quite casually for a teacher/student meeting."
"Well it is after hours, Professor," she replied, hoping she didn't come off as being a smartass. She needed to be on his good side. She sat down in the rickety chair he provided for visitors and looked at him.
"I'd like to know what my grade is in Potions, sir," Hermione stated.
The Potions Master looked at her consideringly.
"If you had perfect marks in your technical and academic areas, Miss Granger, you'd have a seventy-five or a "C" with your zero in attitude. However your marks are currently in the low sixties. Sixty-four to be exact. A "D," he said, smirking a little. "D" was borderline passing.
"A "D"!" Hermione said, horrified, "Professor that's barely passing."
"I know Miss Granger. Without any marks for attitude you are close to failing my class," he said smoothly. "Do you mind explaining to me why you've been making such an ass of yourself in my class to the point I had to spank yours today?"
Hermione looked at him. Was he that thick? Didn't he know why?
"It's the way you treated me on New Years Eve," she blurted out.
The Professor's eyes glittered.
"What do you mean, Miss Granger? I treated you like any wizard treats a witch that's willing to have casual sex. I engaged you and I sent you home. What more did you expect of me? I'm not going to marry you because I popped your cherry, Miss Granger," he said silkily, "And what we did has no bearing on our relationship as student/teacher. I am still your Professor, Miss Granger. You still have to conduct yourself properly in my class."
Hermione stared at him for a moment.
"But did you have to be so cold about it? I mean afterwards. You acted like nothing happened between us," she said, her voice quavering a bit.
"Miss Granger…Hermione. Listen to me. As far as I'm concerned, nothing did happen between us other than a sexual interlude between a woman and a man who have no true feelings for each other. I do not love you, Hermione. I don't even like you, to be honest, because you feel you're more brilliant than the sun, when you have less common sense than a niffler. I merely tolerate you, and you've managed to ruin that as well. Which resulted in your spanking today. I know you felt humiliated, but you have been humiliating me publicly for three weeks now, and today was the final straw. You deserved what you got."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably in the chair she was sitting in. She had taken some healing potion but was still a little sore. He had really beaten her good. The Potions Master's eyes swept over her again, and he continued.
"As for my coldness, don't act surprised about that. When have you not known me not to be cold? It is my nature. You've been having tantrums in my class for no good reason, Hermione, and it has to stop. Just because I've been intimate with you does not make me obligated to treat you any different than I have. You wanted to become a woman, I made you one…now you have to act the part. If you want a wizard that is going to be gah-gah because he dipped his wand in your cauldron, then I suggest you find one your own age who still finds trim something special. I don't. I've had plenty of it. Other than being attached to different witches with varying degrees of tightness, trust me, it is all the same," the Potions Master said. Then his black eyes glinted.
"Although I have to admit yours is the tightest I've had in quite a long time," he added silkily his eyes resting on her thighs.
Hermione wanted to cover herself under that knowing gaze. She shifted uncomfortably, and Severus' eyes locked back on her face.
"Now that you are aware of how I see our New Years Eve tryst, do you still think I have purposely mistreated you?" he asked the witch.
"No. I guess you haven't," she said haltingly, though it still felt wrong to her.
"Good. Now you are thinking like a mature woman, and not some idealistic, romantic little chit," he replied, "I hope after today and after our talk you will behave yourself in my class…because if you don't, Miss Granger, next time I spank you the class won't see the profile. I will bend you over my desk so they get the full moon. Do I make myself clear?" he asked, reverting to proper student/teacher address.
"Yes sir," Hermione said quietly.
She wasn't going to win this one. He was not repentant, and honestly he had no cause to be. He had treated her the way he would have treated any other witch. But there was still the matter of her grades.
"But my grades, Professor. I need to get them up. How do I do that?" she asked him.
"Well, behavioral changes might insure they won't go down any further. I was seriously consider giving you negative marks so I could take your attitude below zero," he said.
"How about extra credit? Research papers? Extra brewing? Maybe I could brew some of your easier potions, freeing you up for other things? Please Professor, I need to pass your class with high marks or I won't be able to enroll in my university of choice," she said. "Or take my preferred major."
Severus arched an eyebrow at her.
"And what is that major, Miss Granger? Charms?" he asked with a sneer. Figures she'd end up being a wand waver.
"No. Potions. I want to be a Potions Mistress," Hermione replied.
Severus looked at the witch consideringly.
"If there's one thing I hate worse than a know-it-all, Miss Granger, it's a suck up," he said in a low voice.
Actually, he thought Hermione would be an excellent addition to the Potions field. She might shake things up a bit. The stuffy old Masters wouldn't know what to do with her. She'd give them all heart attacks with her opinions and theories, and love of debate. He'd like to see the old bastards bluster. But was she serious?
"I'm not sucking up," Hermione said, rather insulted that he thought that of her, but keeping her cool. Still, her eyes flashed and that's how the Potions Master knew she was telling the truth.
"I really want to be a Potions Mistress. Potions fascinate me. When I first came to your class and you gave that little speech about "brewing glory" and "putting a stopper in death," I thought you were just trying to make us think Potions was great. I didn't believe you really. I was all into spells and charms being a new witch and all. But over the years I've touched on the subtleties and power in potions. I think there is so much more to discover. It is a challenge and I've always loved challenges," she said earnestly. "And I want to go to Lewder's College of Potions and Elixirs. It is very expensive and I need a scholarship to get in."
Severus' eyebrow rose for a moment. Lewder's had the best Potions courses in the wizarding world, as well as the most difficult.
"I see," the Potions Master said, rising from behind his desk, walking over to his bookcase and pulling out a book. The wall opened.
"Come with me, Miss Granger," he said.
Hermione hesitated and he scowled at her.
"Stop acting like a child and come," he said to her imperiously, "I want to have a firewhiskey as we discuss your attitude marks."
He walked through the wall.
Hermione sat there uncomfortably for a moment. Walking into his rooms brought back memories of New Years Eve. She did her best not to relive those moments, blocking them out as best she could.
How could she walk into that serpent's den again?
"Are you coming, Miss Granger, or is our talk over?" Severus called, standing before the fireplace and watching the study entrance intently for the Gryffindor witch.
Here, kitty, kitty.
Hermione faltered, her eyes shifting from the open study wall to the office door, trying to decide what to do. Then she drew on her Gryffindor courage. The witch had to get her grades up in the Potions Master's class. Her entire future depended on it.
Hermione stood up, took a deep breath and entered the Potions Master's study.
As if on cue, the wall slid closed behind her.
Severus watched Hermione enter his study. Her steps were hesitant. The wizard understood her reticence, especially since the last time she was here he had ridden her raw. Still, it took courage to enter his lair again. He looked at the witch with hooded eyes.
Initially, he had intended on seducing her again with the intention of really whipping her this time, in retaliation for all the hell she had raised in his class, and how she had undermined his authority. But after listening to how desperate the witch was to fix her grades, another more dastardly idea came to mind. He motioned to her.
"Come sit by the fire," he said, sipping his firewhiskey.
Hermione walked over to the armchairs, and with a furtive look at the Potions Master took a seat. The same seat she had been in when he made having sex with him sound so reasonable on New Years Eve night. Severus sat in the other armchair and stared into the fire for several moments. Hermione watched him carefully.
"Miss Granger, you have been my student for almost seven years. That is more than a third of your life, am I correct?" Severus asked Hermione without looking at her.
"Yes sir," Hermione responded.
"And in that time I am sure you have noticed things about me and my teaching methods that could be considered distinctly unfair, such as my favoritism toward Slytherin students and my love of deducting points from our main rival, Gryffindor house," he said, now turning his head toward her.
Hermione hesitated to answer this. She was trying to get on his good side after all. He looked at her.
"Well, I am nepotistic, Miss Granger. I use my position of authority to show favor to and advance people I prefer and to wreak havoc on those I do not. I have no problem giving a student a leg up if they are in my good graces. Would you like to be in my good graces, Miss Granger?" he asked her, taking a sip of his firewhiskey.
"Yes sir," Hermione said, "if it meant I could get my grades up."
"So you would like to be in my good graces as long as it was of some benefit to you, otherwise you wouldn't give a damn whether you were or not, Miss Granger?" he asked her evenly.
"I never was in the position where I needed to be in your good graces until now, Professor, so I guess that is an adequate description," the witch replied carefully.
Severus studied her for a moment.
"If anything good could be gleaned from your dismal behavior these past three weeks, it is that you have inadvertently helped me knock Gryffindor from the top spot in the House Cup. They are now in last place. I couldn't be more pleased, so I thank you for that Miss Granger. I didn't have to manipulate the point losses this time," he said silkily. "You've topped the record for the most points lost in the least amount of time by a single student. The Weasley twins combined efforts held that record up until now. Your selfishness benefited my house greatly. It was as if I had a mole in Gryffindor."
Hermione hung her head at this. She really hadn't thought about her housemates at all in the past three weeks. It was amazing anyone in Gryffindor was supportive of her at all. She certainly hadn't shown any house spirit.
The Potions Master looked at her and smiled to himself. Guilt softened people up so well. Getting Miss Granger down on herself would help him bring about the ideal situation to put her within his reach again.
"Now, now, Miss Granger, don't feel bad that you have selfish tendencies. We all do. In fact, in Slytherin, we embrace ours and see them as a plus to our characters, and not a minus. It all depends on your outlook. However, you being a Gryffindor, I imagine you feel awful about how you've sabotaged your house's chances to win the Cup," he purred.
"Yes, I do," Hermione said rather sadly. The way Professor Snape put it, she had been incredibly selfish, and she did feel awful.
Severus finished his firewhiskey, set the glass down and folded his hands together, tapping his forefingers together thoughtfully.
"Miss Granger, I would say that you have put yourself in a terrible position. The only bright spot in your situation is you have a Slytherin for a Potions Professor, a Slytherin who has no qualms about showing favoritism. Now, your suggestions as to bringing up your attitude marks are good ones, but how much they help you relies on me…the amount of points I will give you for your work. As you know, I never give you full marks. I have my reasons for this, Miss Granger…and they are not as diabolical as you think, though I will not share them with you. If you try to up your grades in the usual manner, you will not earn enough marks to get your scholarship, because I will not change my grading system for you," he said.
Hermione looked at the Professor wide-eyed. He wasn't going to help her.
"However, I do have a proposition for you that will not only get your marks up, but insure you receive extra house points to redeem yourself in your housemates eyes. In other words, I will show you the same overt nepotism that I show my own Slytherins, and your marks would be assured. But it would be your choice, and it is rather selfish and manipulative on my part, but then again, as I said, I am a Slytherin and have my own agendas to meet," the Professor said smoothly.
"What is the proposition, Professor?" Hermione asked.
He looked at her.
"First I need to secure a wizard's oath from you that you will not repeat my offer to anyone. That you will keep it to yourself and yourself alone," he said silkily.
The wizard wasn't taking any chances that his impropriety would be found out.
Hermione didn't like this. She would be giving up something that she might be able to use against the snarky bastard. But what choice did she have?
"Alright, Professor. I solemnly swear not to reveal anything that you say to me from here on out," she said.
"No, I want you to swear not to reveal any parts of this meeting at all," he countered.
"I solemnly swear not to reveal any parts of this meeting," she amended, feeling magic swirl about her as the oath took effect.
Severus nodded. This was working out well. He looked at the witch. It was now or never.
"My proposition is this, Miss Granger…that you consent to spend one weekend in my domicile meeting my sexual needs. In exchange I will pass you with high marks and restore house points to you. In other words, I will extend my favoritism to include you," he said, his dark eyes glinting at the witch. "Otherwise, you can do the extra credit and hope that I am generous enough to give you the marks you deserve. But I've already told you, I will not. That is not my mode of operation with you."
Hermione stared at him for a moment. He wanted to do her for an entire weekend? Dear gods. How would she survive such a thing?
"Professor, last time I was with you, you hurt me terribly. Why would I put myself through that again?" she asked him.
Severus cocked his head at her.
"For the sake of your dreams, Miss Granger. I have the power to help make them come true or dash them down," he replied. "Currently I am in "dashing down" mode. One weekend at my home will change that," he said.
Hermione remembered his lesson about how a wizard who wanted to shag her would say anything. She looked at him sharply.
"Before I give you an answer, Professor Snape, I want a wizarding oath from you that if I comply with your request, you will indeed give me the passing grade I need to get my scholarship, and that you will restore all the house points you've taken from me in the past three weeks," she responded.
The Professor smirked. The witch was learning.
"Very well," he conceded, taking the oath.
Both wizard and witch sat looking at each other in silence for several minutes. Then Hermione said, "Professor, why me? You said all trim is alike. Surely you can find another witch to suit your needs."
His eyes dropped to her thighs again.
"As I told you Miss Granger, there are varying degrees of tightness. I only had you once, and you haven't taken any other lovers, so you still retain your virgin tightness as well as your cleanliness. I enjoyed that very much, and simply wish to indulge myself again until I am fully sated. While I can find witches to indulge myself with easily, they don't meet your current standards," he said evenly.
Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him.
"So you are saying, Professor, there actually is a difference in between witches," she responded.
"What I am saying, Miss Granger is I will take a perverse pleasure in having you under my thumb for a weekend because I'll know I've broken the goody-two-shoes Gryffindor values they've instilled in you all these years, and will have taught you to look out for yourself. You will be Slytherinized, my dear. Which you sorely need to be if you are to succeed in life. Sometimes you have to give away something dear in order to get what you want," he replied. "Usually, it is a fair exchange."
Hermione continued to look at the wizard skeptically.
"And yes, I suppose there is some slight difference in the quality of trim," he conceded. "I currently have a decided preference for yours. But it is still up to you whether or not to take me up on my offer."
Hermione looked at him for a moment, then sighed.
"Will you give me time to think about this?" she asked.
Severus studied Hermione. He imagined she did need time to absorb his offer. But the witch was a logical young woman. A weekend with him to secure her future would be the smarter route, if not the most appealing one. She would agree.
"Tonight is Monday night. I will need an answer by Thursday night. If it is in the affirmative, we will depart Friday night and return Monday morning," he said to her, standing up and walking over to his liquor cabinet.
He poured himself another drink, then turned to look at her.
Hermione looked at the wizard. The Professor looked so different dressed this way, his clothes fitting his lean, muscular body, his hair drawn back from his face. No matter how appealing he looked, he was still a nasty bastard. The witch's eyes dropped to his loins as she remembered how big he was, and how insatiable.
As if reading her mind, the Potions Master said, "I have ample stores at my home to keep you comfortable, Miss Granger. You will return to Hogwarts no worse for wear, your future assured."
"I'll think about it, Professor," she said, moving toward the study wall, "Will you let me out please? I have just enough time to make it back to my house before curfew if I hurry."
Severus looked at the witch, and his tool throbbed. But if she agreed to his offer he would have her soon enough. He'd let her go tonight. The Potions Master reached in his shirt pocket, pulled out a folded piece of parchment, walked over to the witch and handed the parchment to her. Hermione realized just how big the wizard was as he towered over her.
"For your Head of House in case you arrive after curfew," the Professor said silkily as he pulled the torch which opened his study wall. It slid aside and Hermione walked through it, followed by the Potions Master.
Severus walked over to the office door and opened it for her. He sniffed her hair as she walked by. It still smelled of jasmine.
"I expect your answer by Thursday night, Miss Granger," he purred after her.
"I heard you the first time, Professor," Hermione responded a bit snarkily.
So she was angry about it. Good. It would make the weekend even sweeter in Severus' estimation.
"Just making sure, Miss Granger," he responded. "Good night."
He closed the door, leaving the witch standing in the corridor. It reminded her of New Years Eve.
Hermione sighed and started walking up the dungeons corridor. Professor Snape had no redeeming qualities at all, but he had her where he wanted her. He was sure to give her low marks if she didn't agree to spend the weekend with him, then she would be stuck at a lesser college, pursuing a field she really didn't want to pursue.
Damn it. She never should have given in to him.
What was she going to do?
Hermione suffered through the snickers and laughter of her fellow students in the Great Hall at breakfast, as well as in the Hogwarts corridors. She wouldn't react to the jibes and comments, but held her head high and went about her business as normal. She had no choice.
It was only when Luna Lovegood walked up to her with her buggy eyes and dreamlike manner and asked, "Did you like Professor Snape spanking you?" that Hermione almost lost it.
"No! I certainly did not like it Luna! Why would you ask me such a thing?" she said to the witch.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because I would have liked it. Professor Snape is so sexy," she replied, drifting away.
Luna Lovegood WAS insane. Hermione had heard others say this but now she was sure of it. She wished Luna could exchange places with her. At least she'd enjoy the situation.
All night, Hermione had tossed and turned as images of New Years Eve haunted her dreams, the way the Potions Master took her, the lustful look of pure pleasure in his dark eyes as he selfishly partook of her body in several different positions, plunging into her over and over despite her ache and protestations.
He wanted her to submit to a whole weekend of that kind of treatment from him. An entire weekend for a scholarship. If she didn't agree, the wizard would most likely fail her.
"It's only a weekend. After it's over you will have what you need to attend Lewder's. It's a sure thing," a little inner voice said to her.
"But it's selling myself," the witch argued with her logic.
"It's not selling. It's a price you're paying. If you hadn't acted so immaturely in his classroom, you wouldn't be in this situation now," her logic said to her. "If you had just accepted the Professor's lack of interest, your grades would be better and you could have worked on getting them up to par. You did bring this on yourself."
"But he is taking advantage of me…of my situation," Hermione argued.
"Yes he is. But he is also offering you something you dearly want. When you're a full Potions Mistress, you can poison him. No one will suspect you," logic dictated.
This thought made Hermione feel a little better. She might not poison him, but could find a way to make the Professor pay when she was out of his authority. She knew a little bit about getting revenge.
What concerned Hermione the most was the pain he would give her. The wizard was brutal and selfish when he shagged and had used her body like he owned it. If she could find a way around the pain…then she could deal with this better.
Hm…find her way around the pain…
She had an hour before the next class and headed for the library. There had to be something she could take to remove herself from what the Professor was going to do to her. He had said she needed to learn to look out for herself.
That's exactly what she intended to do.
As a seventh year, Hermione was allowed to leave Hogwarts after class hours. After Potions class, where she conducted herself like a perfect student despite the snickers of her classmates and outright jibes of Draco Malfoy, she changed clothes and headed across the grounds to the Main Gates. She apparated to Diagon Ally and then walked up the dismal Knockturn Alley, her wand held in readiness as she passed all the unsavory characters that convened there.
She headed for Druary's Apocathery Shop, a small, bad-smelling place that kept an astounding amount of ready-made potions. She opened the door and something let out a horrible screech as she entered, and she winced. Hadn't they ever heard of bells?
The place stunk of boiled cabbage and the gods knew what else. Wrinkling her nose, she walked up to the counter, where an old wizard with a surprisingly pleasant face stood. He looked too old to live his face was so wrinkled. He had bushy white eyebrows, bright brown eyes, a long, drooping mustache, and a longer beard than the Headmaster. His robes were brown and monk-like, with a large hood on the back and tied with a piece of hemp
"Hello," he said in a strong, clear voice. I am Master Toorahloo, the apocathery here. Now what can I do for a lovely young witch such as yourself?" he asked her, his eyes twinkling with pleasure as they swept over her muggle clothing. They were so much more revealing than robes. His old eyes hadn't rested on a woman's curves in years, and he was quite appreciative.
"Hello Master Toorahloo," Hermione said, "I was wondering if you carried "First Night Potion?"
Hermione reddened as the apocathery's eyes swept over her again, a small smirk on his wrinkled lips.
"So…taking the plunge, young witch? No pun intended," the wizard said, eyeing her.
Hermione looked at him, deciding what to say. An apocathery was like a doctor in his way, so Hermione decided to tell him exactly why she needed it.
"Well sir, it's not actually my first time," she said blushing furiously, "But I'm kind of involved with a wizard who is…is a bit overzealous when it comes to sex," she said in a low voice, looking around the shop to see if anyone overheard her. But she was the only customer.
"Can't you tell your young man to take it easy?" the wizard asked her, frowning slightly.
"No sir. It really isn't like that," she replied, her eyes shifting downward.
Master Toorahloo could easily see that the witch was obviously involved in a situation where she was being victimized. Probably being blackmailed in some way. He saw this all the time in Knockturn Alley. A pity really. Wizards could be such pigs. He looked thoughtful. She certainly was pretty.
"Give me a moment," he said to the witch as he turned and scanned the dusty shelves lined with bottles behind him. He reached out and selected a pink bottle, then peered around again and selected a blue one. He turned and set them both on the counter. He picked up the pink one.
"This is the "First Night" potion. Imbibing it will make sex less painful and more enjoyable, no matter how brutal your lover is. It is extra strength," the Master said, looking at the witch as her face lit up.
"That's exactly what I need," Hermione said, her heart lifting somewhat. "What is that blue bottle?"
The Master smiled.
"Ah, that my dear is the "Have a Little Tenderness" potion. You imbibe this one and your lover is compelled to be tender toward you during sex. It is primarily utilized by witches whose lovers do not provide adequate foreplay or physical displays of tenderness, such as kisses, caresses, or embraces. The only downside of this potion is the lover is aware he is being compelled to do something against his nature. It doesn't stop him but the aftermath of using this potion is not always pretty since most wizards don't like their sexual techniques tampered with. If you take this potion, be sure to do so when it is your last sexual act and you will be parting soon or else there can be terrible repercussions," Master Toorahloo said, his face sober.
Hm. The Potions Master forced to be tender to her as if he were a caring lover? Now that interested her. Both potions did. But more than likely she only had enough for one of them. Logic said to take the "First Night" potion, because the wizard would not be able to detect th
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