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Night Patrol	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 57765 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! Please continue to leave the feedback, I appreciate it!

The hourglasses in the Entrance Hall to Hogwarts were unforgiving. 100 rubies had been sacrificed from Gryffindor and Hermione’s fellow housemates could hardly believe it. Dumbledore had enchanted the board to record house deductions so when a house lost points a record was tallied on a long scroll next to the hourglass detailing which student was responsible and for how many points. Unfortunately this only served to encourage Slytherin house to lose more points; seeing the board as some sort of wall of fame rather than a punishment.

            She couldn’t look at the Gryffindor table as she entered the Great Hall for dinner. People had been casting incredulous looks at her all day long. As she took her seat Ron and Harry both looked up from their meals.

            “Hermione, what happened?” Ron said.

            Her face flushed. She’d been working on her reaction all day, trying not to recall the situation. It had been embarrassing enough to be caught, but to be caught by Severus Snape the most loathed professor at Hogwarts, and then to have to explain why she’d lost 100 house points in the course of a night; it was just too much. Eyelashes fluttered and she bowed her head, trying to mask her humiliation.

            “Well?” he repeated. “What on earth could you have been up to last night to cost us 100 points?”

            Harry glared at Ron and shook his head, but his friend didn’t seem to get the subtle signal. He placed his arm on Hermione’s shoulder. “I’m sure whatever it was, Ron, she’ll make it up.”

            Hermione couldn’t smile at Harry’s words. They were attempt at comfort and although she should have been grateful it only served to remind her further that the loss of house points was not her only punishment. Detention would start in a few short hours and she was not looking forward to seeing Severus Snape after what he had witnessed.

            Her mind clouded and she tried to hold back the tears. Emotions were bubbling up inside of her and she had no proper release for them. “I’m going to the library,” she muttered and quickly left the table without touching her dinner.

            She was ashamed and sad as well as slightly frightened by what he might do during detention, her worst fear being that he would invite Professor McGonagall for a discussion over the previous night’s events. But more than anything else she was angry. It had been a foolish thing to sneak out of her room after curfew and attempt such an obscene display in a public place. If she’d bothered before midnight at least she would have time on her side and not have been penalized for breaking curfew as well, though that hardly seemed to matter.

            As she moved through the corridors making her path to the library her mind buzzed with errant thoughts. Why had she needed to leave her room? Self pleasure was something she rarely indulged in, and on the few and far-between occasions that she did she always made sure that she was locked securely in her room, was completely alone and cast several muffling charms around her bed. She was not one for adventure of the sexual nature and could not create a reason for her devious behavior.

            It dawned on her as she pulled on the handle of the library door. And just as quickly she let it swing shut. The mirror. She had been having a conversation with her mirror image just before sneaking out of her room to the Astronomy Tower. Perhaps it had been cursed or enchanted to will her into the erratically inappropriate behavior. Hermione wasted no time in dashing up three flights of stairs— narrowly missing a staircase change— and rushed into her dormitory.

            Several hours of thorough inspection yielded nothing. And her mirror image complained the whole time that Hermione was paranoid and stupid. With a heavy sigh she flopped down on the bed and closed her eyes. If the mirror hadn’t been tricked into convincing her to go out for her masturbatory activities then what had possessed her to do it? She was certain it didn’t matter for even if the mirror had been enchanted she doubted that Severus Snape would have believed her.

            Hermione bolted up from the bed and grabbed her time piece from the top of her dresser. It was nearly ten pm. How had so much time passed without her realization? A frustrated groan escaped her lips and she grabbed her satchel and began a mad dash toward the dungeons, though she was certain she’d never make it in time.

            The castle did not work in Hermione’s favor as she descended staircase after staircase, several of which changed mid descent leaving her stranded in parts of the castle much further away from the dungeons than she’d anticipated. Several detours later she arrived at his classroom door, didn’t knock and burst through.

            Severus Snape was seated at the head of the classroom, his head bent over a stack of parchment. “You are late.” He said. He did not look up, and his voice was unnaturally quiet.

            Hermione was panting, gasping to catch her breath as she’d run the better part of the way trying to make up for lost time. This drew his attentions and Severus rose from his seat.

            “Pleasuring yourself again, Miss Granger? If that is your excuse for your tardiness I shall summon both the Headmaster and your head of house right this very moment. Your behavior is inexcusable.”

            “No, sir.” She tried to regain control over her breath, knowing her face was already flushed and that her hair must have looked wild. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead and rolled down her cheek. “The staircases…”

            “You were performing indecent conduct on the staircases?” he sneered. “Moving up in the world aren’t we?” He took two steps toward her and stood to his full height. Severus Snape never slouched or leaned and was a massive 190 centimeters tall, nearly two full heads taller than she was. His arms crossed tightly over his chest, the layers of his thick black robes causing him to appear even more menacing than usual.

            “No!” she cried, her face flushing even more. “I— no, sir.” She corrected herself not wishing to lose further house points. “The staircases kept changing and it took longer than normal to get here.”

            He contemplated her words for a moment. The shifting staircases of Hogwarts were almost as annoying as having Harry blood Potter back at the school. “Fifteen points from Gryffindor for your tardiness. Moving staircases are no excuse, Miss Granger. You’ve attended this institution long enough to know that the staircases move and to plan accordingly when moving throughout the castle from one destination to another.”

            Hermione could not protest. Even if she had she was certain it would only have cost her further house points for speaking out of tone or disrespecting the man. But his brief lecture on the enchantments of the castle had given her breathing a moment to settle. She waited staring at the heavy flagstones on the floor.

            Severus watched the girl. Nervous, embarrassed, and the slightest hint of nausea, there were lesser emotions swirling around on the surface of her mind but these seemed the most prevalent. Probing the mind of unsuspecting individuals was his specialty and when one was emotionally vulnerable it made it that much easier for him to accomplish. She was waiting for him to speak, to issue a command, and he could hardly contain his smirk. Hermione Granger was about to experience true humiliation.

            He hadn’t been able to shake her from his thoughts. The way her lips had been parted just enough to let those unearthly pleasurable moans escape her throat, and her nipples, stiff and straining, against the chilly night air; despite bringing himself to release in the shower he’d found no rest and was unable to chase the images of her from his mind. She would pay. He was pressing his luck with his plan, but was almost certain that the girl would be too ashamed to do anything other than what she was told.

            “The last I checked, Miss Granger, my face was not screwed to the floor.” He spat.

            Her head snapped up and met his gaze and her eyes were wide, a mixture of fright and discomfort. She stood with her feet together, her knees locked, donned in her full robes. He took a step toward her, towering over her once more, and she tried very hard not to shrink away though her mind was screaming for her to do so.

            It was irrational, her fear of the man before her. He was a professor and trusted member of the Order, and at the very least still highly regarded by Albus Dumbledore, so there was no reason for her to believe that he would cause her harm. And in the back of her mind she knew that his calculated steps, precision with his words, and dark brooding demeanor were all just part of a scare tactic designed to intimidate students. Unfortunately at the moment it was proving to be a very effective tactic for try as she might she couldn’t keep her body from quaking, and she hoped to Merlin it wasn’t noticeable.

            “Miss Granger…” his voice was practically a whisper. “You have been assigned detention as a part of your punishment for breaking certain school rules.” Each word was articulated with the slightest hint of amusement. “School rules that you seem to have a flagrant disregard for,” he continued. “Be so kind as to refresh my memory and tell me exactly why I assigned you detention.”

            Her eyes grew wider. Surely he wasn’t serious. It had been bad enough to have been caught in the act and by him no less but to have to verbally acknowledge the incident in front of him, she was sure she was going to be nauseous. The blood was rushing through her veins and thrumming in her ear. Heat filled her cheeks and she felt the blush taint her skin again.

            “You have already kept me waiting with your tardiness, Miss Granger. It would be unwise to further test my patience.”

            Hermione tried very hard not to focus on his eyes. They were dark, and she was unable to read them. A person’s emotions were conveyed through their eyes, the window to the soul she’s always been told, but the man that stood before her either had no soul or had bound his windows so tightly closed that it was impossible to tell anything other than anger. She was not skilled by any means at Legilimency and highly doubted that even if she were that it would have been any use in her current situation anyhow.

            “Miss Granger…perhaps calling Professor McGonagall down from her office will help quicken the response of your tongue?” he offered, quirking his brow slightly if only to mock her further.

            There it was again. The idle threat of drawing her most revered and most respected professor into the equation. It served its purpose and at once Hermione seemed to find her voice, however quiet. “I was out past curfew, sir.” She muttered.

            “You received detention for being out past curfew.” He stated.

            Hermione only nodded.

            “Is that all?” he drawled.

            She couldn’t fight the blush that stained her cheeks any more than she could keep her knees from trembling. And her eyes fell from his face, but she did not let her chin drop so far as to appear to be staring at the floor. “N—no, sir.”

            “No.” he said.

            “I believe I asked for the reason you received detention. Was it unclear that I wished for all the reasons?” his voice was harsh but still soft.

            “I received detention for being out past curfew and for inappropriate conduct.” Her words were rushed almost a string of syllables with no discernable breaks or pauses. She tried not to meet his gaze but his eyes met hers and her whole body shook.

            “Inappropriate conduct, Miss Granger.” He said.

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Do refresh my memory as to exactly what sort of inappropriate conduct landed you in this detention,” he said. It was difficult to suppress a smirk. Severus was more than pleased with his achievements thus far; the girl was wriggling like a worm on a hook and he’d only just begun his torment.

            It seemed like hours were ticking away but they were merely seconds as her mind tried to wrap around exactly what he was asking of her. Severus Snape was a cruel man but she’d never imagined him to be so cruel as to humiliate her into reiterating her unfortunate experience in front of him, wasn’t it bad enough that he’d caught her in the act? But her mind, though sluggish and foggy from embarrassment nerves, urged her to speak lest she be further reprimanded. “I was…” her voice trailed off. She cleared her throat, trying to muster every ounce of Gryffindor-like courage she had. “I was pleasuring myself in public, sir.”

            Hermione’s head dropped immediately to the floor. She didn’t wish to see the look on his face at hearing her words. Her whole body stung with shame, a heat and burning sensation that was most unpleasant shooting through her. It was unbearable.

            “Pleasuring yourself?” he said with a scoff.

            “Masturbation, sir.” She whispered so softly she wasn’t even sure that she’d spoken the words aloud.

            “Beg your pardon, Miss Granger?” he mocked. He had heard her perfectly well but it was too much fun not to force her to repeat the words that obviously pained her to speak.

            “Masturbation.” She repeated herself a bit louder and angrier than she’d meant to, and her hand flew to her mouth as if she could somehow recapture the escaped word.

            “There is no need to shout,” he stated. “Five points from Gryffindor.”

            At her current going rate Gryffindor house would be down another 100 points before her detention was finished. And she could only hope whatever he had in mind, be it scrubbing cauldrons, writing lines, or some other horrid atrocity, she hoped it would go quickly. The sooner she was out of the dungeons and far away from her tormentor the better.

            “Seeing as you are so fond of such licentious conduct, and that wanton behavior of the common streetwalking harlot is your new found hobby, you shall take to performing these practices in a public place, as is commonplace for you after last night’s incident,” he sneered. “Starting now.”

            She wasn’t quite sure she had heard him properly. If the words he had spoken had been interpreted correctly it sounded as if he’d told her that she would be masturbating in public, public being the classroom in which she currently stood. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and she drew in a deep breath. Obviously she had misunderstood. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

            “I did not stutter, Miss Granger, and I know in that thick head of yours my words were clear as glass, but let me express to you your punishment in a more simplified matter as I do not wish to be standing here explaining things to you for the rest of the night.” He took a step toward her, leaving almost no space between them. “Since you find your filthy habit to be most appropriately performed in public, you will do exactly that, here and now.”

            “Sir!” she exclaimed. Her eyes were wide, though more from surprise or fear he couldn’t tell. “You can’t mean for me to— you can’t expect me to— that’s completely inappropriate!” she finally managed to sputter.

            “And I suppose you think your actions in the Astronomy Tower weren’t completely inappropriate, Miss Granger? Your wandering hands so selfishly looking to give yourself carnal pleasure out in the open where anyone could see you was the appropriate thing to do?” again he sneered. “I don’t think you are in a position to question me about things that are or are not appropriate, Miss Granger.”

            Her lips parted to protest once more but held his hand up to silence her. “You are the Head Girl and by title alone that means that you are meant to be setting an example, and I am most certain the both Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore would find last night’s example less than satisfactory. Wouldn’t you agree? Or shall I summon them both here to ask them?”

            Silence hung between them and he waited. He could almost see the girl struggling to fight back tears and with this he was satisfied. It served the girl right for being a terrible tease, whether or not she had meant to be. “I do not have all night, Miss Granger.” He said.

            Her legs practically buckled beneath her and it took every ounce of strength she had not to collapse. But after a moment of trying to rationalize a way out of her current predicament she realized that it was a no-win situation. Resigned to her fate she took a step back from him and glanced with hesitation around the room.

            “You may place your robes and clothing on the back of a chair.” He said and stepped back to stand in front of his desk.

            Hermione trembled and she could feel the sting of tears threatening to break over her eyelids. Perhaps it was a set up, to see if she were depraved. She hoped that as she began to undo the clasp on her robes he would reprimand her for undressing, deduct further house points, and set her to writing lines. But as she slid her arms slowly out of their sleeves he said nothing. She could not bring herself to look at him. Draping her robe over the nearest chair she stood facing the front of classroom. Skirt, button up shirt, stockings and black shoes, she wore all parts of her school uniform except for the tie and her robes which she had just shed.

            “Unless you intend to perform your libidinous acts fully clothed I suggest you continue your divestments.” Severus stood with his back to his desk, arms crossed over his chest eyes trained on the girl. He was grateful for the thick folds of his black teaching robes, they easily concealed his already straining erection.

            Like leaves on branches in an autumn storm her fingers trembled as they reached up under the hemline of her skirt. She was wearing a pair of pink knickers, nothing special, though the elastic had seen better days. Hermione hesitated for a moment before hooking her fingers into the band and pulling it slowly down her legs. With her knickers around her the ankle of her stockings and her face fully flushed she scanned the room once more, not quite sure if she were looking for the best place to do it and get it over with or if she were trying to find a last minute escape.

            His eyes did not shift their gaze as her knickers fell. He would maintain his stare, with his arms crossed as she performed for him, and he would deal with his body’s responses later.

            Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, as she tried to calmly exhale. Hermione pressed her back against the work table that was near the chair where her robe was draped. Perhaps if she closed her eyes and tried not to think about being in the potions classroom it would somehow make it easier. She tried to pull her hand slowly up under her blouse but the material was too tight to allow her to properly move her fingers.

            With a frustrated whimper, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and undid the top three buttons of shirt. It was just enough to expose the white bra that covered her breasts. Her legs quaked and she was certain that if she remained on them any longer she’d fall over. Hopping back ever so slightly Hermione sat on the edge of the work table and leaned back just slightly enough to pull her thighs up onto the grainy wood surface.

            She faced the front of the classroom, refusing to open her eyes, and used one hand to tug at the cup of her bra, pulling it down just enough to expose her nipple. But she wouldn’t need to linger over her breasts for long, the chilly dungeon air stiffened her on contact. She shivered, and pinched her hardened nipple.

            Hermione knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t let her leave until he was satisfied that she’d humiliated herself thoroughly. She tried to remain demure as she spread her thighs, restricted in her movement by her knickers that were still looped around both ankles. She struggled to kick them off and after a moment of fidgeting they came loose from around her left foot and she was able to angle her legs slightly wider than before. It was the most humiliating thing she’d ever experienced, and thankfully her skirt was hiding her sex.

            Her eyes flew open as she brought her fingers to her labia; her body was betraying her and she felt the slick dampness against her skin, mingling with her curls. How could something so degrading and inhumane be turning her on? But she supposed that the tension in her nerves had had no other alternative for release. Hermione cursed her body for its arousal as she stroked two fingers slowly over her entrance, forcing her lips together to keep from moaning.

            But sitting on the edge of the table with her skirt still mostly in the way proved difficult, she was unable to press her fingers up into herself at her current angle and try as she might, shifting forward and backward, she could not manage to appear convincing without poking herself in a painful fashion. Humiliated and frustrated, she scooted further back on the table until her feet were up on the edge and she slowly lowered her back to the wooden surface. She bent her knees and kept her feet flat on the face of the table.

            It presented a most delicious view to his eyes, but he made no gesture or facial expression to show that he was intrigued or engaged. His black eyes were motionless as they watched her shifting her hand about. Her skirt bunched up around her stomach, exposing her mound to him. He could see her glistening folds, the tender pink outer lips that begged to be touched and he watched as her fingers stroked over them; once, twice, once more and then she pushed two fingers up into herself.

            There was a soft whimper that escaped her lips as she felt how hot she was. It was a terrible betrayal, to be so excited by something so embarrassing. Hermione worked her fingers in and out of her sex, using her thumb to graze at her clit, and she could feel the tension beginning to build. She kept her eyes closed. Her body was rigid, so tense that her muscles were straining as she undulated against her own hand. Faster and faster she moved her fingers, her arm burning from the tiring sensation, but it wasn’t enough.

            For a moment she forgot herself; forgot that she was being humiliated that she was on display in the potions classroom, and she brought her other hand down to rub and pinch at her clit. A moan escaped her lips, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of her forehead. Her hips gyrated and her back arched slightly up off the table as she thrust her fingers into her sex. Hermione pushed a third finger up inside her, and she groaned.

            Her muscles contracted, and she began to shake and spasm. It was short lived, just a small orgasm but enough to make her tremble, and her juices coat her fingers. As she allowed her eyes to open the harsh overhead light of the classroom greeted her eyes and at once she sat bolt up, smoothing down her skirt with her clean hand as best she could. Her knickers were discarded on the floor near the leg of the table. She was too afraid to look at Severus Snape.

            He watched as she hopped down from the table and quickly stepped back into her knickers. Her body was still shaking, her face still flushed and perhaps more so than before. She buttoned her shirt and stood with her eyes meeting the ground, awaiting his command.

            “You are a filthy wanton strumpet,” he said. His voice level, betraying nothing. “You will report here tomorrow evening for detention at 10:00pm, and this time do not be tardy.”

            Hermione took that as her cue to leave. She snatched her robe from the back of the chair and fled from his classroom without so much as a backward glance. As the classroom door slammed shut he released a heavy sigh. The strain in his pants was almost too much to bare.

            In two quick strides he’d crossed from the front of his classroom over to his office door, entered his office and found himself leaning against the wall to support his own trembling knees. She was wild and incredibly erotic and his blood was practically boiling over. Severus tugged the zip of his trousers down, undid the button, and pulled his erection from his boxers. He was harder than ever he could remember, and longed for something more than his own hand. Firm fast strokes up his length had him growling, his palm curling round his weeping tip.

            The way her fingers had pumped so furiously drove him mad, and he closed his eyes, replaying the images he had just witnessed. The arch of her back, the way she whimpered and moaned, and how slick she had been. His strokes quickened and he grunted his breathing labored as her image danced before him. Hermione Granger bringing herself to a climax, sprawled on her back with her legs spread wide; the image sent him pitching forward as he cupped his hand over the tip of his cock. He shuddered as he came, his shaft tightening, his body releasing.

            It took a moment for him to finish and catch his breath. He cast a scourgify charm and tucked himself back into his trousers. Never had a woman been so sexually arousing to him before. A part of him felt dirty, though the girl was of age, she was still entrusted to him as a student, but a part of him couldn’t help it. There was something about the girl that drove him wild. Hermione Granger was going to be his undoing.



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Night Patrol