Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Harry Potter; it is all J.K. Rowling's. But I am so glad we're allowed to play with her wonderful characters. Especially Snape!
Author's Note: Kind of silly, I suppose, but I had this idea today in a class, when this young guy set up a desk for me and everything… well, I relate everything back to my obsession for HG/SS, so yeah. Very AU, very crazy, but that's why it's fanfiction! Enjoy!
Snape watched as a Slytherin seventh-year picked up Granger's stool for her and flashed a smile, before returning to his seat a couple tables behind her. He could see a blush creep up Granger's neck and into her cheeks, while her eyes shifted nervously around. The two other members of the Golden Trio hadn't seemed to notice the action of the Slytherin boy, speaking together at the table next to hers about a recent Quidditch match.
Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously, first at Granger, then at the Slytherin boy who was still smirking. The boy had never stood out to him before; though he was head of Slytherin house, he'd never particularly taken the time to get to know the students therein. But as he glared at the young man, he remembered his name.
"Abraxas Daunt." Had he meant to say the name out loud? He was so sick of the boy's confident smirk and Granger's still-flushed cheeks, he continued in a dark tone, "Ten points from Slytherin."
The room suddenly went quiet. Every eye was on Snape, some of their mouths gaping open. Granger's head had snapped up, the flush from her cheeks disappearing as her eyes shot daggers into the Potions Master. Abraxas Daunt had gone pale, his annoyingly smug expression vanished to be replaced with a mixture of confusion and horror.
Snape raised a brow at the students watching him. He supposed they expected a reason for his point-deducting, but he wasn't about to let it slip that the jealousy that had risen in him at the sight of Daunt helping Granger…. "Turn to page one hundred and sixty-nine for today's potion, and begin."
Some of the Slytherins were still gaping at him in disbelief, which he ignored as he swept around and supervised the cauldrons being prepared. Neville Longbottom had sat down with Granger, and he slowly made his way over to the table where their ingredients were spread out.
"You must chop them, Neville. What do you think you're doing with that knife?" She demonstrated with her own knife and ingredients, and then looked at Longbottom and nodded encouragingly. But Longbottom's eyes were glued to Snape over the top of her head. He gulped, and Granger slowly turned on her stool to look up at a very forbidding Snape.
"Tsk tsk, Miss Granger. Seven years and still, though you know the consequences, you offer your assistance to Longbottom. Essentially… cheating." His eyes flashed at the thought of what punishment he might inflict on her.
"I never cheat!" she retorted, her brows furrowed.
Weasley hissed at her, "Shut up, Hermione!"
Snape tilted his head to raise a brow at Weasley, who avoided his gaze and toyed with the cutting knife on his table.
"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley." He thought he heard the boy murmur something like, "Of course," before he returned his gaze to Granger. "And ten points from Gryffindor for your failure to adhere to the rules of this classroom, Miss Granger." He watched her sigh and swivel around dejectedly on the stool, causing a rolling tide of anger to boil in him. "I wasn't done!" he bellowed, and Granger nearly toppled off her stool, her eyes wide. She faced him again, looking up at him with those honey-brown eyes, clutching the edge of the table.
"Detention this evening, perhaps, will make you realize the seriousness of your offense. Too long you've gone helping Longbottom on his way and not being properly disciplined. That will change." He crossed his arms over his chest and dared her to be brave now. There was definitely fire in her eyes. He was a little disappointed when she didn't respond; he expected more from a young woman who'd fought in the war against Voldemort.
"Sir… isn't that just a little unfair?" The voice came from the back of the room, and Snape turned swiftly to meet the eyes of Draco Malfoy. He had his hands on his hips and was staring pointedly at Snape, who simply scowled in his direction before turning back to Granger.
"Eight o'clock, Miss Granger, and one second later will call for more deductions of house points." He stormed away up to his desk, pulling out a stack of third-year essays, and began to grade furiously.
After class, both Gryffindors and Slytherins shuffled quickly from the room, until Malfoy was the only student left. He approached Snape's desk with a frown on his face.
"Don't start with me, Draco," Snape warned, his eyes not leaving the essays in front of him.
"Wasn't it a bit uncalled for, Severus?" Draco was trying to sniff out his motivations, and Snape didn't like it at all.
"As it is my classroom, I will decide what's called for." Snape spared a glance at his godson. "Miss Granger got what she deserved."
Draco sighed. "Severus, we were all allies during the war. Why would you want to go back to being enemies? She was 'Hermione' when you first opened your eyes after surviving that snake bite." Draco clasped Snape's shoulder. "It's a time to be rejoicing, not making your class miserable."
Snape paused in his writing. He knew Draco was right… too right. Granger… Hermione… she'd found him, stayed with him, pleaded with him to stay alive while they transported him to St. Mungo's. She'd sneaked him Firewhisky when the nurse wouldn't allow him a nightcap. And yet here he was, treating her like a foul little creature when, for a small amount of time after Nagini's bite, he'd lived off pleas for him to survive.
Not only that, but the war was indeed, over. No more summoning from the Dark Lord, no more Cruciatus twisting his insides. Students had lost loved ones, and were still grieving, but also knew how to rejoice. He had no reason to be nasty…
"Perhaps I'll find a way to add the points back to our house. Mr. Daunt didn't have a clue when he helped Miss Granger that she belongs to me." His eyes shifted to take in Draco's reaction, but the infuriating young man just grinned.
"I figured. But moreover, what must Hermione think?" Draco surveyed him quietly before turning and heading for the door. "See you at dinner, then," he threw over his shoulder.
Hermione was sitting with Draco, Harry, Ginny, and Luna at dinner. House competitions didn't seem to mean much anymore, after the war. Of course, there would always be those Slytherins who would keep to themselves, but it had been very few since Draco had set such a good example of giving up the idea of purebloods as the elite.
Hermione watched as Draco laughed loudly at a joke Harry made, slapping his leg before placing his arm around Luna's shoulders. Ginny had her hand on Harry's leg, while Harry's arm was around her waist. Hermione sighed and perched her chin atop her palm. Her eyes darted once down the Gryffindor table to Ron and Lavender, who were talking animatedly to another couple. She wondered if she was the only seventh-year who didn't have a special someone these days. Of course, her amicable parting with Ron had been for the best… and Lavender almost seemed nice when she came to join them in the common room... but she couldn't help feeling left out. In fact, she was getting so uncomfortable at the moment, she was almost looking forward to setting off for the dungeons in a few minutes.
"So I said, 'Abraxas, go help her.' I noticed he'd been watching her since the celebration before the start of term." Draco slid his eyes to Hermione, smirking. "Of course, I regret giving him the advice now. I think that is the first time in history Snape's taken points from his own house!" They all laughed at this, except for Hermione. She was glaring at Draco.
"You told him to come help me? Draco, I don't need a matchmaker. And if you think I'm pairing with a Slytherin, you must be out of your gourd." She didn't take it back when both Draco and Luna pretended to be offended.
"You know, I'd watch what I say, if I were you, Hermione." Draco had a secret smile on his face, which was never a sign of good. "I think, in the end, you'll be with a Slytherin."
"Don't hold your breath," she replied airily, and stood up. "Speaking of Slytherins, I have detention with a particularly rude one in five minutes." She gathered her things and stepped over the bench.
"Do you want me to have Abraxas walk you down to the Dungeons?" Draco asked innocently, and didn't look at all put off when Hermione stalked away without answering him.
At eight o'clock sharp, Snape looked up as the door was quietly opened.
"Miss Granger," he greeted, but as she approached the front desk where a row of ingredients had been laid out, he murmured, "Hermione."
She stopped short, her bag colliding roughly into her thigh. She didn't flinch, but rather held his gaze.
Snape left his chair and advanced toward her, noticing how her eyes widened just a fraction as he drew near. He drew up just a few inches short of her, towering over her menacingly. "I assume you're contrite?"
Hermione looked away from him before he could see the fury in her eyes. She stepped to the side and dropped her bag onto a stool, then walked around him to survey the ingredients on the table.
Snape remained where he stood, trying to contain himself. "You didn't answer me, Miss Granger."
Hermione stomped her foot and slapped the table in front of her, causing a beaker of dry leaves to topple over. "Which is it, then? 'Miss Granger' or 'Hermione'?" She dropped to the floor and beginning scooping up the leaves. "And when have I ever been contrite for helping a friend? Unless you are going to expel me, I doubt this detention will be much use, besides being your slave for a good two hours." She stood and replaced the beaker on the table, and shifted the other ingredients from the edge.
Snape almost smirked. "Such ire, Hermione. And toward a professor? I'm almost tempted to take more points from your precious house."
She bit back a retort, he noticed with a sly smile. He could see her teeth working furiously at her lower lip. He moved around behind her, so close his breath stirred her brown curls. "But perhaps," he murmured, reaching around to still her hands by taking hold of her wrists, "you'd like to know why I made those decisions in class today."
Hermione's breath caught in her throat, her whole body going still. There were inches separating them, but she could feel the heat radiating off him. His hands around her wrists were not painful, but she understood they were steel vices not likely to release her anytime soon. Shakily, she replied, "Er… sure."
Snape lowered his head to speak into her ear, his lips brushing her lobe and causing shivers to erupt throughout her body. "When young Mr. Daunt so gallantly helped you today, he had no idea that he was coming onto something… someone… who belongs to me."
She gasped, and tried to turn, but this time, Snape leaned his body against hers, pressing her into the table as his hands tightened on her wrists.
"You see, Hermione… you are mine. And while I have no problem with a student with pure, friendly thoughts helping you with a stool… I do have an issue with a flirtatious young man seeking to impress you." He bit her earlobe, causing her to shriek softly. "You are not to encourage them, do you understand me?"
Hermione could hardly believe what she was hearing, or moreover, what she was feeling against her bum. She was, for the first time in her life, rendered speechless; even her mind seemed to have stopped working. Too many times she'd fantasized a similar scenario to this one, and she wondered briefly if it was, in fact, another fantasy being played out in a deep dream. But the next moment, Snape had released her wrists, and she knew as those callous palms shifted to the backs of her thighs that it was very real.
"But perhaps you don't understand me," he continued, his voice very gruff now, as his hands slid under her skirt and inched it ever so slowly up her legs. "Perhaps I've been remiss in claiming you as mine, showing you who you belong to." He flipped her skirt up to rest on her back, and his hands roamed over her bum, caressing and kneading and making her gasp in startled delight.
Though his domineering words prickled at the back of her mind, making her want to rebel and prove that she was an independent, capable woman, her body was quite appreciative of the way his hands translated his words. Those rough, large, talented hands, tracing all over her behind and making her squirm. She wondered if he quite approved of her choice to wear a lacy thong today.
"By the end of this detention, however, you will know." He laughed, and the sound was strained and hoarse.
While one of his hands slipped around to her front, tickling at the waistband of her knickers, his other hand wound around her front, elbow at her waist while his hand rested over her breast. She squealed and squirmed as his fingers took their time, inching down into her knickers, wiggling until they rested just on the outside of her mound.
And then, his head lowered and his lips fastened to the spot where her neck met her shoulder. He sucked fiercely, before his teeth sank into the spot and his tongue swirled round. He didn't let up, not even when she cried out. And his fingers inside her knickers wouldn't move, no matter how wildly she writhed to encourage them.
"Please, Severus," she cried out again, her knuckles turning white where they gripped the table.
The door to the dungeon banged open, and Draco Malfoy rushed in with his wand drawn. Snape's head shot up off Hermione's shoulder, and his lips remained parted as he spotted his godson. Hermione was looking at Draco with wide, horrified eyes, and she squeaked before pulling her skirt down and trying to step away from the Potions Master.
Snape refused to release her, however, his one arm a resolute band of steel around her waist. He glared at Draco, shoved his hair from his face with the hand not holding Hermione, and growled, "I'm rather busy here, Draco, if you don't mind."
Draco was shifting his eyes wildly between Hermione and Snape. She was flushed, with her head down, trying to tug the rest of her skirt down from underneath Snape's elbow. Snape was breathing heavily and holding Hermione so firmly, Draco was surprised she didn't snap in half. "Is he… are you… okay, Hermione?"
Hermione didn't look up at him… not at first. Then, slowly, her head inched up, and she smiled a secret smile at Draco. Snape reached around and grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes as he leaned toward her to see her reaction. He searched her eyes, and seemed to like what he saw in them, because he bent low, placed his shoulder at her waist, and lifted her over his shoulder.
"See you at breakfast, Draco," Snape announced, carrying the yelping Hermione to his chambers.