Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowlings. No money is being made from this story.
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Chapter 8 ~ Confrontation
Hermione stormed down the library corridor, descended the main stairwell, stalked through the main hall and turned down the dungeon corridor. How dare the Professor take it upon himself to decide who could associate with her? He had nothing to do with her outside of Potions class. He was as bad as Harry and Ron were. What was it with her and men? Why did every male she know try to tell her what to do? Did she have “I don’t know how to handle my own life!” stamped somewhere noticeable on her body? Draco seemed to be the only male who could accept her as she was. Professor Snape showed no interest in her after she told him how she felt about him. He showed nothing, no reaction. He simple lectured her about how ordinary he was and her hormonal responses, then sent her back to Gryffindor tower, unrequited. He didn’t even address how he felt about her wanting him. But now, he wants Draco to stay away from her?
Draco had to be right. The Professor had to be jealous. That could be the only reason he would try to bar the wizard from her company. She and Draco were only friends. True, he was handsome, bright and enjoyable to be around. Actually, he was better company than both Harry and Ron, simply because he could focus on more than Quidditch for more than five minutes. But there was absolutely nothing romantic going on between them. Draco had been a perfect gentleman ever since they agreed to start with a clean slate. He was a good study buddy too. She finally had someone in her life that she could relate to on equal terms and it seemed like everyone was trying to ruin that for her. Well, she wasn’t going to stand for it. Professor Snape was way out of line telling Draco to stay away from her, and Hermione was going to make it quite clear to the Potions Master that she would associate with whomever she wanted, and he was to stay out of it. Lost points and detentions be damned.
She came to the door of the Potions classroom and pulled it open without knocking. Professor Snape was sitting at his desk, marking papers. He looked up and scowled.
“Miss Granger, what are you doing here? Class is over and I’m busy,” he said.
“You’re busy all right, busy meddling in my affairs!” she spat at him.
Snape put his quill down.
“What in the world are you babbling on about, Miss Granger,” Snape said, looking at the angry witch. Her hands were on her hips and her eyes were flashing.
“You had no right to tell Draco to stay away from me. None at all. I have a right to be with anyone I want to,” Hermione said, “You’re just my Potions teacher. You have no authority over me outside your classroom.”
For a moment, Snape’s mind went back to the image of him fucking her. He certainly was in “authority” then. Snape swallowed, then narrowed his eyes at Hermione.
“Miss Granger, I suggest you lower your voice and change your tone when speaking to me. I am not Ronald Weasley. Do not presume you can march into my office and scold me as if I am one of your housemates. I will be addressed with respect,” he said to her in a low voice.
Hermione was taken aback for a moment, then composed herself and spoke in a more reasonable tone.
“Why would you tell Draco to stay away from me, Professor?” she asked him, walking up to his desk so she stood directly in front of it.
Snape sighed. He wasn’t sure why he told Draco to stay away from her, other than the thought of the pureblood abusing her body, hell, even touching her body made him want to break the boy’s neck. But he could hardly tell Miss Granger that.
“Mr. Malfoy is not the type of wizard you should associate with Miss Granger. He has a hatred of muggleborns. He could be dangerous,” the Professor replied.
“Why won’t anyone give him a chance? Draco has been nothing but nice to me since he rethought his attitudes. I see no reason to cut him off,” she said, then added, “I’m entitled to some male company.”
The Professor looked at her sharply, then stood up and walked around his desk, so he stood in front of her, only inches away. Snape looked down at her.
“You don’t need his kind of company, Miss Granger,” he said, scowling at her. The image came back to him as he looked at the witch.
“Who are you to decide that? He stimulates me intellectually. No one else does that, except you. And you aren’t interested in keeping me company,” she said looking up at him. Standing this close to him, with him towering over her and looking dangerous, was doing things to her belly.
The Professor considered the witch.
“It’s not my company you think you want from me, Miss Granger. My spending any additional time with you would not be wise, given your infatuation with me,” he said, his black eyes looking into her face intently. She was a lovely young witch. He felt a stirring in his loins and silently fought it back. No.
“I can’t have your company, yet you want to keep me away from Draco. One might think you were jealous, Professor. Are you jealous of Draco. Think he might give me what you won’t?” Hermione said, rather viciously, “maybe I should take it, and let him take care of my ‘burgeoning sexual needs” once and for all.”
Before he knew what he was doing, Snape grabbed Hermione roughly by the shoulders and shook her hard.
“You will not!” he hissed at her, “You will not let that wizard touch you!”
Hermione stared at the Potions Master, shocked at his loss of control. Snape looked shocked as well, and released her slowly.
“I’m…I’m sorry Miss Granger. I don’t know what came over me,” he said softly.
Hermione studied him.
“I got to you, didn’t I, Professor? The other day in detention. What I said about how you make me feel inside, got to you,” Hermione said, looking up at her teacher. Suddenly, he looked quite vulnerable. Then his eyes hardened.
“No. You did not ‘get’ to me, Miss Granger. I am a head of house. I listen to young witches’ infatuations quite frequently. What you told me was not that much different then what my Slytherin charges confide in me,” he said.
“Yes…but Professor, this wasn’t about someone else. I was talking about you. Wanting you. That is a bit more personal than hearing about someone else. It had to affect you in some way, knowing that I’d willingly have sex with you at the drop of a wand, Professor” Hermione said in a low voice. Her eyes were shining up at him, “I still would. You wouldn’t even have to ask me.”
Snape swallowed.
“Miss Granger,” he said in a hoarse voice, “You are not one of these bubble headed young witches that are easily swept away by sweet words and dreams of romance. You are a levelheaded, brilliant young witch who knows the direction she wants her life to go in. A rarity in any age. Why would you want to give yourself to a wizard who has caused you so many difficulties? You can barely stand me, Miss Granger. Your list showed that.”
Hermione looked at him, into his questioning eyes. The Professor looked torn. She could tell he wanted her. She felt her body swaying towards his.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, “I can’t find the logic for it, Professor. But you haunt my dreams, my waking moments…you slip into my thoughts at the worst times. And you don’t know what it’s like. What I go through. What I see you doing to me over and over. Sometimes I think if I can’t do these things with you, I’ll go crazy. There’s times when I don’t even want to come to class because I know these urges are going to torment me the moment I lay eyes on you.”
“And what’s worse is knowing that no matter what, you’ll never relieve me. You’ll never take me to your bed. You’ll always see me as a student, not a woman who can choose what she wants, who she wants,” Hermione said sighing. She stepped back from the Professor a bit. Then she turned away from him completely.
“Maybe I really should consider going to Draco,” she said, looking across the classroom as she addressed Snape, who was staring at her back with a tormented expression on his face,
“Go to him and ask him to give me what I want from you, Professor. He wouldn’t be you, but I could pretend he was. I could keep my eyes closed and concentrate on the feeling of his body in mine, his mouth on mine, and pretend it was you taking me, pretend it was your voice I was hearing whispering my name…pretend it was your hands touching me,” she said, almost whispering, her eyes sad. “It would be better than what I have now. Sleepless nights filled with dreams of things, of acts that will never happen. A poor substitution is better than nothing at all.”
The Professor looked at the young witch baring her soul and her despair before him, and felt his resolve weakening.
“Miss Granger, I had no idea…” he began
Hermione spun on him, her eyes flashing.
“Of course you had no idea. When do you ever think about how another human being feels? Never, because you aren’t capable of even the most rudimentary feelings yourself. You know nothing about what it is to want what you can’t have. You’re a cold, hard man, Professor Snape… and I’m cursed…cursed with wanting you.
What the fuck was she talking about? She had no idea how much he wanted and would never have. How many times he’d been passed over…she had no idea how…
Suddenly the Professor spun Hermione towards him and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing at all, crushing her to his body and claiming her mouth desperately, brutally, plunging his tongue into it and sucking on her tongue as if he were starved and it would give him sustenance. The Potions Master walked forward with her until they met the wall, and he crushed his body against hers, moving against her sensually, growling, unable to help himself as he pressed against her soft curves.
Hermione was gasping against his wild possession of her mouth, whimpering in the back of her throat as she felt his hard, lean body rubbing insistently against her own with such ardor she was sliding up and down the wall. He was so urgent, so demanding, so real. Just like she imagined he would be in a situation like this. Underneath all the coldness, he was made of fire.
Professor Snape broke the kiss, and let her slide down the wall, but kept his body pressed close to hers.
“You still say I have no feelings, Miss Granger?” he panted, looking down at her. “I’ve seen your dreams. What you want me to do to you, and how you want me to do it. I watched myself fucking you. Saw how much you loved it. How do you think that made me feel?”
Hermione was panting against the Potions Master, trying to collect herself, steadying herself against the waves of delicious feeling and hunger that were washing over her. He intoxicated her. She managed to register he had seen her fantasies.
“How?” she asked him.
“Legilimency. I looked in your mind during detention. Then earlier today in class,” he breathed down at her. “Miss Granger, how do you know so much about the sex act when you are a virgin. Why are your fantasies so explicit?’ he asked her, pressing against her again.
“I saw what men and women do on a porno movie,” she said, looking up at him. “It looks terrible…but it’s not. They like it.”
“No, it’s not terrible,” the Potions Master said softly, the image of his possession of Hermione returning to his mind. .
He pulled himself away from the witch and turned back toward his desk. His cock was so hard, it was painful. He had lost control and his classroom wasn’t warded. Anyone could have walked in and see him in a compromising position with Miss Granger. Hermione remained pressed against the wall, her amber eyes practically glowing as she looked at him.
“You kiss just like I imagined you’d kiss, Professor,” she breathed. Snape closed his eyes as she spoke, her very voice making his desire for her try to rage out of control. “I want more,” the witch said. Snape clenched his fists.
“Miss Granger, you may have seen what men and women do during sex, but you have no idea what you are asking for,” he said, controlling his voice as best he could, “you have no earthly idea what it would be like to be with me.”
“I don’t care. I ache all over, Professor. I ache every day for you. Relieve me,” Hermione said imploring me, “that’s all I’m asking you to do, Professor. There are no strings, nothing to trap you into anything else. I need you.”
The Professor turned to the witch, his eyes sweeping over her as she rested against the wall, her eyes bright with desire. He could close the door, ward it, place a silencing spell on it and fuck her until he was satisfied. He was so tempted.
“Miss Granger, I need time to consider…consider what you are asking me to do,” he said his black eyes burning into hers.
“Sometimes it’s possible to think too much, Professor, ” the witch replied.
What? Was this coming from Miss Hermione Granger, who used logic for everything?
He stared at her a minute. He had to make himself stay in place, keep from going back to her. He was losing his composure. He was weakening.
“Give me a little time, Miss Granger. You are asking me to forego all my standards. You are asking me to trample my own integrity,” he said, a scowl on his face, “It takes time to destroy a man with his own desires.”
Hermione pushed herself off the wall.
“I don’t want to destroy you, Professor. As I said, I can go elsewhere…” she whispered. But she didn’t want to…she had tasted his passion, and her whole body was on fire for the dark wizard standing in front of her. If only he wasn’t so disciplined.
“No!” he snapped, “I don’t want you pretending another wizard is me. No other wizard could ever fuck you like me. But you don’t know that. Gods.”
The Professor leaned against his desk and looked at Hermione until she was trembling under his gaze. He shifted uncomfortably. His cock was hurting and his balls ached. Snape hadn’t been in this condition since he was a student himself.
He looked at Hermione.
“Just…just be patient, Miss Granger. Don’t seek anyone out yet. Please,” he said to the witch, his eyes entreating her. He was at his last bastion. The castle was crumbling and the wolves were at the gate. He was going to lose this battle. Hermione began to walk toward him. He could see the hunger in her eyes…he couldn’t touch her again, or he would break apart and throw everything to the winds.
“Miss Granger, I think you should go now. Right now,” he breathed at her, standing up so he could hold her off if she approached him again. But Hermione stopped.
“All right, Professor,” she said, her eye blazing into his, “I’ll go.”
And just like that she left him standing alone in the classroom. He had a distinct feeling of loss.
He looked after Hermione and knew it was no longer a question of if he would fuck her. It was now a matter of when. He had fallen like all those other Professors he had felt superior to. He was no better than they were. After all his years as a spy under Voldemort, being beaten and tortured almost to the point of death, he had always found a way to rise with his standards and integrity intact. It was ironic, really that a beautiful, brilliant, young witch named Hermione Granger had brought him to his knees.
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Draco was waiting near the dungeon entrance for Hermione’s return from seeing Professor Snape. Hopefully the witch had given him an earful, and turned off to him as well. If the Professor thought he didn’t have a chance with the mudblood, he’d probably back off. He heard footsteps and peered down the dark hallway. Yes, it was Hermione. But she didn’t look mad.
Draco peered at her, and scowled. No, she didn’t look mad, she looked like she wanted sex. Draco knew the signs of a woman’s arousal. Damn. What the fuck had happened in that classroom? Had Snape made a move on her. She looked like she had been snogged. Damn it.
Draco stepped out as she walked to the head of the corridor.
“Hi, Draco,” she said, her voice sounding somewhat detached, as if her mind wasn’t really focused on what she was saying. Draco stood closer to her and could smell a slight trace of her arousal.
“Are you all right, Hermione?” Draco asked her, seething inside that Snape may have one-upped him concerning the Gryffindor witch.
Draco was desperate to even out the playing field again. Maybe he could utilize the feelings Hermione was experiencing toward Snape to suit his own ends. At least start the ball rolling towards a relationship of a more physical nature and let her know she had a pleasant alternative to Snape if she wanted it.
“I’m fine, Draco,” she said.
The blonde wizard took both her hands in his. Hermione looked up, startled.
“Good, because I want to talk to you. Privately. It’s concerning this thing with Snape, kind of,” he said softly, “There’s something I want to tell you, or ask you rather,” Draco said sincerely, his ice blue eyes soft.
“Where do you want to go to talk?” Hermione asked him. Her head was clearing somewhat, but her body still had those delicious feelings coursing through it from her contact with the wizard of her fantasies.
“I know a place,” he replied, “It will be perfect.”
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A/N: Ah, a lot happened this chapter. Please review.
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The Burning Pen
The List
by Ruth Solomon
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