A/N: I don't even know with this, you guys...this story isn't like anything I've ever written before. I tried to put in as much plot as I could so that it isn't just senseless porn. This is for my perverted friend nawgggiiirrrlll on Tumblr who requested some Snape/student. WARNING: This contains pedo!smut, so if you don't like it, don't read it.
With five minutes left of Potions class, Professor Snape's timer rang, and Quinn let her head drop into her hands. A pitiful attempt at the Draught of Living Death was bubbling in front of her, maintaining a shade of deep pink that contrasted sharply with the perfect sample sitting on Snape's desk. Santana sat next to Quinn, poking at the concoction with her wand. "I stirred it like fifteen times," she said. "Why won't it go clear?"
"You're only supposed to stir it seven times," Quinn said in a muffled voice, still massaging her temples with her fingers. "Stirring it more doesn't help."
Santana frowned. "Well then we messed up somewhere."
"Duh," Quinn snapped. She lifted her head and slammed her copy of Advanced Potion Making shut, sending an echo bouncing off the dungeon walls. Santana looked at her in alarm.
"Chill out, Q, I don't even think anyone else managed to get this far," she said, and as if on cue, one of the potions in the front of the room began spitting out gold sparks. "I'm sure we could at least put someone in a coma with this. Let's just go to lunch."
Quinn shook her head vigorously as Snape began to make his way around the room, inspecting everyone's cauldrons. She knew Santana was right—they were only in their fifth year and the Draught of Living Death wasn't even supposed to be covered until sixth year. Snape had told the class beforehand that his expectations for them were very low, and Quinn should have been proud of what she had managed to accomplish. But she was still irritated. She had followed the directions perfectly and couldn't think of what had gone wrong. Quinn didn't make mistakes in potions. Since her first year, she had demonstrated a particular talent for the class and she had always been one of Snape's favorites. But lately, something had been distracting her, and she couldn't quite shake the feeling that someone else was swooping in to steal her crown...
Snape stopped at the desk in front of Quinn and Santana's and looked into the cauldron that was sitting there. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Quinn watched as the corners of Snape's mouth curved upward into a rare smile. "Well done, Berry," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "There is, of course, a slight tinge of pink remaining, but it's hardly noticeable. An admirable first effort." He didn't even bother to compliment Rachel Berry's partner, a red-faced boy who was notoriously bad at Potions and had probably been quite unhelpful in the entire process. Rachel's face flushed with pride as Snape moved on, and she turned a fraction of an inch to look at Quinn. The light from the candles in the dungeon flickered off the shiny prefect badge on her chest, and Quinn forced herself to take several calming breaths. Snape came to a stop in front of her desk and looked down at their potion with a slight frown.
"Well, Lopez," he said. "It is clear that you chose the right partner, anyway. You ought to thank Fabray for the passing grade I'm giving you for today." He turned away from Santana and she rolled her eyes at the back of his head. "And you," Snape said to Quinn, "...good job." She did not miss the disappointment on his face, and as he walked to the next desk, Quinn thought that he might as well have told her that she failed.
When the bell finally rang to signal the end of class, Snape went back to his desk. "I have your essays on cauldron thickness," he announced. "Come pick them up before you go." There was the sound of benches scraping as everyone stood up and walked towards the front of the class. Snape handed out everyone's essays one by one. When Quinn got to the front of the line, Snape made eye contact with her momentarily before handing back her essay. Quinn looked down at the paper in her hand and felt immediately dizzy. At the top of the parchment, in Snape's signature scrawl, was a large letter D.
Looking around furtively to make sure nobody had seen the offending grade, Quinn stuffed her paper into her book bag and leaned against the dungeon wall. She felt like throwing up. She had never gotten a grade this bad in all her years at Hogwarts. Not even in Divination, and she had barely even gone to that class for the one year that she had signed up for it. Santana got her paper and made her way over to Quinn. "Acceptable, thank God," she said with relief. "My dad said he would stop me going to Hogsmeade if I failed another class." She looked at Quinn's sweaty face. "Are you okay? How did you do?"
Quinn took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face. "I did fine," she said.
"Of course you did," Santana said. "Let's go." She pushed open the door to the dungeon and held it open for Quinn. The two of them walked down the dark hallway towards the stairs, Quinn still feeling anxious. Luckily, Santana didn't seem to notice anything was wrong. "Do you think you can copy your Astronomy chart for me tonight?" she asked. "I'll owe you one."
"Sure," Quinn replied distractedly.
"Thanks, you're amazing," Santana said, beginning to climb up the stairs. "Jesse is making me spy on the Hufflepuff practice again. And then we have practice right after. I'm barely gonna have time to do my homework."
"Why do you need to spy on their practice?" Quinn asked, climbing up behind her. "You guys beat Hufflepuff last time you played them."
"Yeah, but he wants me to spy on them just in case," Santana said. Quinn raised her eyebrows. Jesse St. James, the Keeper and captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, was so convinced of their superiority that he rarely felt the need to spy on anyone. Yet somehow, Santana was always going to watch Hufflepuff's practices. "He made us draw straws," Santana continued. "I got picked. It sucks, I was looking forward to taking a nap." Quinn couldn't help but notice that Santana was not making eye contact as she spoke.
"That girl in our year, Brittany something," Quinn began.
"Brittany Pierce," Santana said immediately.
"Right," Quinn said, trying to hide her smirk. "She plays on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, doesn't she?"
Santana's cheeks turned red, and even in the dim light, Quinn did not miss it. "Yeah, she plays Chaser," Santana said casually. "Why?"
"No reason." Quinn and Santana turned a corner to see someone leaning against the wall, looking down at a piece of parchment. As they got closer, Quinn recognized the figure as Rachel, and she groaned inwardly. Rachel looked up at them as they approached.
"Hello Quinn, Santana," she said brightly. "How are you?"
"Fine," Santana grunted, trying to walk around Rachel in the narrow hallway.
"How did you do on your potions paper?" she asked, blocking their way. She tilted the paper in her hand slightly towards them and Quinn saw a perfect round O at the top of it. She felt her blood start to boil.
"I did acceptably," Santana said. "Now can you move, Hobbit? You're blocking our way."
Rachel looked pointedly at Quinn, but Quinn refused to speak. She was not going to give Rachel the satisfaction of forcing her to lie about her grade. When Rachel realized Quinn wasn't sharing, she moved aside. "Alright," she said. As they pushed past her, she called out, "Have a nice lunch!" Her voice echoed in the corridor around them and Santana visibly shivered.
"I hate her," she said as they went through the door into the Great Hall. "And why didn't you tell her your grade? She needs to be put in her place. I mean, she must know you're the best potions student in our year."
Quinn remained stoic as they went to the Slytherin table and sat down. When she was confident no one was listening, she leaned in towards Santana. "Because I didn't get a good grade," she said quietly.
"What did you get, an A?" Santana asked, reaching forward and spearing a piece of chicken with her fork. She dropped it onto her plate with a plop. "You know, you need to stop being such a perfectionist. It's irritating."
Quinn looked down at her plate in shame. "No, I didn't get an A," she said.
Santana looked a little surprised. "Did you get a P, then?" Quinn didn't move, and Santana raised her eyebrows even higher. "A D?" Quinn gave a tiny nod. "Wow, Q. What the hell happened?"
"I don't know what happened!" Quinn said angrily. "I barely even remember writing that paper. I was exhausted."
"Why didn't you just tell me? I would have written it for you," Santana said. "It was just about cauldron thickness, for Christ's sake."
"You're not making me feel any better," Quinn said with a pout. They lapsed into silence as Quinn watched Rachel enter the hall and sit by herself at the end of the Slytherin table, humming as she poured herself a goblet of pumpkin juice. "I've just been really distracted," Quinn said quietly.
Santana followed Quinn's gaze and made a face. "Well, snap out of it," she said. "I don't get why you're so jealous of her, anyway. She's a freak."
"Finn wants to date her," Quinn pointed out. "I saw them talking after Herbology one day."
"Well, so what?" Santana asked. "You dumped him, remember? He's trading down."
"Dumbledore picked her to be prefect," Quinn continued.
"Like you would have wanted that thing anyway," Santana countered. "Look, if you were a prefect, we would have to stop sneaking out after curfew. We would have to go to class. We would become...well, we'd be like Berry."
"I just liked being the best at something," Quinn muttered.
"Look, if it's such a big deal to you, go ask Snape to change your grade," Santana said with a shrug, turning back to her food. "He'll do it, he likes you."
"Yeah right," Quinn said. "He never changes anyone's grade."
"Tell him you weren't feeling well or something. Ask him if you can rewrite it."
Quinn shook her head. "No. I can't do that. I want people to know that I earn the grades that I get."
"Well Jesus, Quinn," Santana said. "Pride never got anyone anywhere. Next thing I know, you'll be applying for a transfer to Gryffindor."
Quinn put down her History of Magic book and leaned back into the common room chair with a sigh. Both her and Santana's completed star charts were strewn across the floor in front of her, along with an essay she had just written for Transfiguration. In a frenzy, Quinn had come back from her last class of the day and done all her homework for the entire week. But it had not been enough to erase the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. Tentatively, she opened up her book bag and pulled out the crumpled essay that she had gotten back from Snape.
Looking back over it, she could see why it had gotten a D. There were several places where she had reported incorrect facts, and she had also been docked points for simple grammar mistakes. It was obvious that she had written the essay under great stress and fatigue, and that made her angry. She knew what she was talking about. If she had to do the essay again, she had no doubt that she would manage an Outstanding just like stupid Rachel Berry. Quinn glanced around the common room. Santana was still at Quidditch practice. No one else knew what grade she had gotten. If she got Snape to change it, nobody would ever have to know...
Before she could talk herself out of it, Quinn folded up her essay and put it in the pocket of her skirt. Then she stood up, straightening her shirt and tie. She would have to be confident—she would go straight up to Snape and tell him that she knew she could do better. She would demand a second chance. That would likely impress him more than begging. Quinn's stomach was in knots as she left the common room and walked down the empty corridor. She had only been in Snape's office once, when he asked her to fetch more ingredients for the class, but this would be the first time that she went in after hours. She hoped she wasn't overstepping some sort of boundary by visiting him in the evening, but she knew that she had to talk to him now. Putting it off for another day wasn't an option.
Quinn reached the door to Snape's office and knocked lightly. After a moment, someone quietly said "Come in," and Quinn nervously opened the door to go inside. Snape was sitting at his desk, a large book open in front of him. The only light in the room came from the small fire crackling in the fireplace, and Quinn stepped forward into the light so that she could be seen. When Snape saw that it was her, he closed his book. "Quinn Fabray," he said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Though his face remained motionless, she could see an amused look in his eyes.
Quinn swallowed hard. Then she pulled her essay out of her pocket. "Professor, I don't think that I did nearly as well as I could have on this paper," she said. "I was hoping that you would give me a chance to redo it."
Snape took the paper from her hands and glanced over it. He was quiet for a long time, and Quinn forced herself not to prompt him to speak. Finally, he folded the paper and handed it back to her. "Why should I give you another chance?" he asked. "I haven't given the same opportunity to anyone else."
Quinn could tell that Snape was not denying her request. He was challenging her. Mustering all the courage she had, she said, "I know I can do better. I care more about this class than anyone else. If you give me a second chance, I won't waste it."
Snape sighed and stood up from his chair. He walked towards the fireplace and took out his wand, waving it in front of the hearth. Quinn watched as the flames grew and shrank with every movement. "You know," Snape said, still facing away from Quinn, "I have always thought you were a very good Potions student. One of the best I've ever seen."
"Thank you," Quinn said modestly.
"But," Snape continued, "you lack certain qualities that some of your peers have. Frankly, I've been rather disappointed in the progress you've made over the years. I sometimes question your judgment."
Quinn swallowed hard. "How...sir?"
"Well, for one thing, you are constantly choosing Santana Lopez to be your partner. Not a very good move, I would have to say."
"Santana's my friend," Quinn said, unable to keep a bitter edge from creeping into her voice.
Snape turned towards Quinn and looked at her calculatingly. "Many people might find that admirable," he said. "But not me." When Quinn didn't say anything, Snape continued. "Santana is lazy and spoiled. She can't be bothered to care about any of her classes unless she is threatened with some sort of punishment. But she knows how to get what she wants. She knows that she would have failed today's assignment if she did not have you as her partner."
"So you're saying that I should have worked with someone else? Someone better?" Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I should have betrayed her?"
"I'm saying nothing of the sort," Snape said. "What I am saying is that when you added the wormwood to your Draught of Living Death, Santana was looking absentmindedly at the clock. And when you turned back to the book to read the next direction, she mistakenly added another dose of wormwood. That is why your potion would not turn clear."
Quinn didn't know what to say. Was Snape really going to fault her for Santana's mistake? Was he going to refuse to raise her grade because she would not get mad at her friend for a tiny lapse in judgment? "So if I had told Santana to let me do the work myself...I would have done better than Rachel?"
Snape walked around to the front of his desk and leaned against it, now just feet away from Quinn. He locked eyes with her. "Berry would push you off the Astronomy Tower if it meant that she could get just a tiny bit ahead," Snape said, and there was clear admiration in his voice. "Until you're willing to do the same, you will never be better than her."
Quinn tried to keep the hurt from showing on her face. "I thought I was the best in the class," she said, her voice sounding whinier than she wanted it to.
"You are the most talented, yes," Snape said. "And you work hard. I have no doubt that you will do very well on your Potions O.W.L.s. And because of that, I'm not going to give you an unfair advantage."
"But..." Quinn spluttered. She couldn't back down. She needed this grade. "It wouldn't be unfair," she began.
Snape cocked his head to the side. "Why?" he asked. Again, Quinn could tell that he was challenging her, and she was determined to give him the answer he wanted to hear.
"Because it's unfair that Santana and Rachel got better grades than me. It's unfair because I'm smarter than them."
"Go on," Snape said with a nod.
"They didn't deserve it," Quinn continued, anger building up inside her. "I deserve it. I work my ass off in this class and I should have gotten an Outstanding on that paper."
Snape took a step towards Quinn, closing the distance between them. "Yes," he said in a low voice. "You're right. So what are you willing to do for it?"
"Anything," Quinn breathed, looking up at Snape. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins. She had never felt so determined in her entire life. "I'll do anything for it."
In the back of her mind, Quinn knew what was about to happen before it did. Snape closed the final steps between them and crashed his lips against hers. He grabbed her cheeks roughly with his hands and forced her mouth open with his tongue, kissing her deeply. Quinn placed her hands on his hips and sank into the embrace, pushing Snape backwards until he hit the desk again. Then she shoved her body against his and met his tongue with her own, fighting for control of the kiss. As her tongue entered his mouth, Snape moaned and flipped them so that Quinn's back was pressing against hard wood. Then he reached down to her waist and lifted her up so that she was sitting on the edge of his desk. Quinn tangled her fingers in his long hair and pulled his lips against hers once more. She felt one of Snape's hands reach behind her and settle on her ass, while the other slid tantalizingly up and down her thigh. With each back and forth, his hand went steadily higher, until his fingers grazed the edge of her panties. She pulled away from his mouth and moaned, and Snape moved his head into the crook of her neck. Quinn gasped as his teeth grazed her sensitive skin. "Prove to me that you want it," he breathed against her throat. "Prove you belong in Slytherin."
"I do belong in Slytherin." Quinn pushed Snape roughly off her, towards the wall. Then she charged at him and grabbed the top of his robes, struggling with the buttons. Snape tried to help her but she pushed his hands away, yanking at the fabric in frustration. The robes finally came undone, sending a cascade of buttons to the floor. Quinn just smirked. "Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. She saw Snape shiver visibly at her husky tone and felt a surge of pride at her ability to dominate the situation. She dragged the robes off of his skin, leaving him clad only in a white t-shirt and black pants. Snape grabbed at her tie and pulled her face towards his for a searing kiss. As their mouths met, Quinn let her hands travel down to his waist, where she began to loosen his belt. Then she drifted further downward and cupped his hard on, smiling against his lips when a guttural moan escaped from his mouth. "I want that grade, Professor," she said, rubbing him lightly. Then she leaned forward so that her lips were grazing his ear. "Please," she added.
"Yes," Snape gasped suddenly. "Yes, you can have it, just...do it."
"Do what?" Quinn asked, trailing her fingers across his still-clothed thigh. "What do I have to do for it?" She pressed her lips against his ear and then dragged her teeth across his earlobe, causing him to cant his hips towards her.
"Blow me," he hissed. At his words, Quinn dropped quickly to her knees in front of him, forcing his loosened belt off of his pants. She threw it to the floor beside her and then reached forward and unbuttoned his pants. Snape leaned into the wall and flattened his hands against it as she began to tug on the zipper. "Hurry up," he said impatiently.
Quinn looked up at him and caught his eye momentarily. "Fine," she smirked, grabbing hold of his waistband. She pulled down his pants and boxers in one motion, freeing his cock. Then she reached for it and pulled it towards her, trailing her tongue around the tip. Snape moaned and tried to thrust into her, but she leaned away. With her hand, she began rubbing up and down his shaft as she placed gentle kisses to the tip. Snape closed his eyes tightly and squirmed against the wall, silently begging her. She slowly closed her lips around him and began sucking, moving back and forth as she did so. She placed a hand on each of his legs to support herself as Snape's fingers came down and tangled in her hair, helping to move her in a steady rhythm. As his moans became more pronounced, Quinn allowed the tips of her teeth to graze against him with each movement. She rubbed vigorously with her tongue, enjoying the way his body reacted to every new technique that she tried. When she had done this with Finn, he had never lasted long enough for the act to be all that satisfying. But Snape was different, he was a man, and even though she was only doing it for the grade, the situation was oddly erotic for her. As Snape's breathing became more frantic, Quinn sped her ministrations, until she felt warm liquid fill her mouth. She swallowed it all, cleaning him gently, until he pulled away and slumped down against the wall. He looked at her through black eyes, breathing heavily. Quinn wiped her mouth and looked back. As his body slowly began to relax, she raised her eyebrows suggestively. "So," she said. "Are you gonna give me a chance to rewrite that paper?"
Snape shook his head. "No," he said. Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but Snape interrupted her. "You don't need to rewrite it," he said. "I think that deserves an Outstanding."
When Quinn got back to the common room, Santana was collapsed in a chair, still wearing her Quidditch robes. Her eyes were closed but she stirred abruptly as Quinn approached. "Were the showers broken or something?" Quinn asked, eyeing the dirt on Santana's face with disdain.
Santana straightened up in her chair and looked at Quinn. "Look who's talking, you're the one walking around with Just Been Fucked hair," she said. Quinn's hands sprung self-consciously to her head and Santana laughed. "Like you would ever relax enough to get laid, though," she said. "What did you do, go for a walk in the wind?"
"I...I went to the Owlery," Quinn lied easily. "I had to write to my mom."
"I hope you told Judy I said hi," Santana said, reaching forward for her book bag. She pulled out her History of Magic book and began flipping through it.
"Actually, I told her you transferred to Durmstrang last year. She thinks you're a bad influence on me." Quinn walked to the chair across from Santana and sat on the edge of it, very aware of the taste that still lingered in her mouth and the hickey that was slowly beginning to show on her neck. She knew that she should probably excuse herself and go clean up before Santana noticed anything. But there was something intoxicating about the secret she was carrying, and she didn't want to wash away the evidence of it just yet.
Santana looked at the chapter that they were meant to be reading for homework and closed her book with a huff. "Your mom would be lucky if someone was a bad influence on you. You're ridiculously uptight. Salazar Slytherin is probably turning in his grave."
Quinn shrugged. "Maybe."
"What did you do while I was gone, anyway? Mope over that Potions essay?"
"No," Quinn said. "I think I made my peace with it, actually."
"Well that's good," Santana said. "I'm sure you'll get a good grade on the next one, anyway."
Quinn smirked. "I'm sure I will."