Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Peeping Tom	By : Dazzlious Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 31662 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from J K Rowling's fantastic books or films, I'm just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 1
- 2
- 3
The following morning Draco studied Granger’s face once more as she sat eating breakfast and talking intently to the Weaslette. However hard he looked he couldn’t see any sign of her being anything other than herself. Certainly she didn’t seem to be the slightest bit conscious of Snape, never once looking in his direction as might be expected if they were bona fide lovers. If Snape was charming her, and Draco was beginning to believe that he had to be, he was doing a bloody good job of it as he was obviously leaving the Mudblood with no memory of the things she did with him.
And Granger was definitely becoming the girl of Draco’s dreams. He had little time for the puritans of the school, but knowing as he now did about the Mudblood’s filthy desires made her seem even more attractive when he saw her during the day all strait-laced and buttoned up. In fact, during History of Magic he had spent most of the lesson indulging in a fantasy in which he had taken Snape’s place with Granger happily shedding her clothes and her inhibitions to indulge in acts in which, although he had not actually seen her participate, he could now imagine her doing.
The session had finished with the Mudblood on her knees at his feet begging him to cum over her face and Draco, enthusiastic as he was to make her happy, had done just that. So deep had he been immersed in his fantasy that he had completely missed the end of Binns’ lecture. He was brought rudely back to class as a scrunched-up ball of parchment hit him in the face. Glaring across the room, he saw Potter and Weasley laughing at him. They were standing waiting for Granger, who was still packing away her equipment into her bag. The rest of the class had already started to file out of the room.
‘What’s the matter, Ferret?’ Ron said to the scowling Draco. ‘You should be thanking me for waking you up. I just stopped you getting detention.’
Draco continued to glare. Weasley was right, of course, but that didn’t matter; he wasn’t going to be grateful to some filthy blood-traitor for his help. He grabbed his bag and stormed from the classroom, angrily looking for Crabbe and Goyle. The bloody idiots should have nudged him or something and yet they had just left him there. When he found them he was going to give them a piece of his mind.
‘So what were you dreaming about?’ Potter’s amused voice travelled to him down the corridor. The trio had exited the room just after him and were close behind. ‘It must have been something good for you to get so carried away. Go on, tell us what it was about.’
Draco tried to ignore the taunt. He wasn’t giving Potter and Weasley the satisfaction of an undignified response, which was what they were obviously trying to achieve.
‘Oh, leave him alone, Harry. He was probably dreaming about getting jiggy with those bum chums of his,’ Ron said wickedly. ‘Hmmm, where are your goons, Ferret? Did they run away when they realised the thoughts you were having about them?’
Draco stopped and turned, his usually pale face flushed with anger. He was clenching his fists.
‘You’re talking complete bollocks as usual, Weasleby,’ he said stiffly. ‘Unlike you two homos, I’ve got no interest in men.’ His eyes grazed over Granger for a long moment and he smiled coldly as Ron moved slightly in front of her as if to protect her. He snorted with laughter. ‘Oh, don’t worry, Weasel. I’m not after your girlfriend either. I have slightly better taste than that. What would I want with a filthy little Mudblood slut?’
Ron, his face suddenly red with rage, launched himself at Draco as Harry grabbed the back of his jumper, trying to stop him. Ron roared with annoyance at being kept from hitting the Slytherin.
‘You take that back, Malfoy,’ he shouted. He was struggling with Harry.
Draco gave another cold smile as he looked at Granger again. Her cheeks, too, were flushed with anger from his comment but her eyes were watery and she looked hurt. For a second the image of the Mudblood’s bottom, as red as her cheeks, came into his mind and his smile grew more wicked.
‘All right, Weasel, I take it back,’ he drawled, smiling salaciously at Hermione. ‘You’re right. There are lots of things I could do with the Mudblood slut.’ He licked his tongue slowly around his lips as he looked directly at her. ‘Or should I say that she could do for me.’ Hermione looked distressed at his comment. Ron reared again as Harry continued to hold him back. ‘What’s the matter, slut?’ Draco continued, still looking directly at Hermione. ‘I could make it good for you, too, you know.’ He gave her an ostentatious wink as his pelvis moved provocatively. Hermione looked mortified.
Ron roared with fury at Draco’s words and Harry, now losing his temper, too, released Ron’s jumper. Ron’s fist connected with Draco’s face, just missing busting his nose. Draco retaliated and soon the two boys were fighting, punch after punch landing as the two of them, now brawling intensely, rolled around the floor. Hermione was crying and was being comforted by Harry, who was, between hugging her, cheering on Ron.
The noise had attracted other onlookers and soon there was quite a crowd around the boys as they continued to brawl. The chant from the crowd of ‘Fight, fight!’ had covered the sound of Professor McGonagall’s arrival, and for a few seconds no one realised she was there. However, slowly, the crowd began to fall silent as the stern teacher made her way through it to the still fighting boys.
With a wave of her wand, Draco and Ron flew apart, both sitting on the floor looking a little stunned. Each was bruised and bloody and looked a mess, hair wild and shirts untucked. Draco wiped some blood from his mouth as he glared malevolently at Ron.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ Professor McGonagall asked, her voice sharp and cold. ‘Mister Weasley, Mister Malfoy? What exactly is going on?’
Neither Ron nor Draco said anything, just continued to gaze hatefully at each other. Professor McGonagall looked around taking in Hermione, clearly extremely upset and still sobbing in Harry’s arms, then she looked back down at the two boys on the floor.
‘I see,’ she said crisply. ‘Both of you will join me in detention this evening.’
Ron started to protest and began to explain what Draco had said about Hermione, but Professor McGonagall wasn’t interested. Shaking her head, she held up her hand to stop Ron from speaking.
‘Regardless of the reason, Mister Weasley, you were fighting. Fighting will not be tolerated at Hogwarts. I will see you and Mister Malfoy in my office after dinner this evening.’
The crowd drifted away as Professor McGonagall spoke, understanding that there wasn’t anything more to see. Harry released Hermione to go and help Ron up. Crabbe and Goyle rushed to help Draco, who was angrily shrugging them off, tucking in his shirt as he stood. He glanced over at Hermione, who was still visibly upset. Okay, so she hadn’t taken his calling her a slut very well, understandably, but there was none of that embarrassment that would likely have been apparent had she considered that he knew her secret. Was this yet more proof that she wasn’t aware of what Snape was doing to her? Did she really believe she was helping him brew potions every evening when, in fact, he was using her to fulfil his kinky sexual fantasies?
He saw Weasley glare at him again as he stared at Granger. He turned away and picked up his bag, bad-temperedly thumping the arms of both Crabbe and Goyle as he left the trio to it. Fuck, now he had got detention, thanks to Weasley, and that meant he wouldn’t be able to spy on Snape to see if his theory about Granger was correct. Instead, he would be stuck in a classroom with old McGonagall and that blood-traitor prat, doing Merlin only knew what load of old crap for the evening.
Pansy had joined him now, making soothing noises that he was trying to ignore. He didn’t really need her on his case right now, either. He was pissed off at his friends for leaving him, especially as it had got him beaten up, and he wanted to be alone to consider further the implication of Granger not being aware of what Snape was doing to her. That could be an interesting prospect in lots of ways. He had Charms next, followed by a free period. Time enough during that for a visit to the Library again.
Charms dragged, partially because of the bad feeling between Draco and the trio that permeated the entire room. Relations between Gryffindors and Slytherins were always tense at best, but today they were almost at breaking point. But the class was also slow because Draco wanted to get to the Library. He had research to do and he didn’t want to have to spend an hour practising a spell he had known how to do since he was nine, although it was almost entertaining to watch dolts like Crabbe and Goyle who had trouble with even the most rudimentary of spells.
Watching them, he had to wonder about his father’s constant insistence that Pure-bloods were superior to everyone else. After all, as usual, Granger performed the spell perfectly almost immediately. It seemed wrong that she, as a Mudblood, should find this so easy whilst his cronies had so much trouble. Perhaps, as he had thought many times over the years, they really were Squibs after all.
The lesson had finally finished, and with relief, Draco removed himself from his friends by telling them he was going to the Library. Pansy tried to go with him until he made it clear he intended to work not muck around or cause trouble. Disappointed, she headed back to the common room with her friends. Once installed in the Library, Draco found a quiet corner and grabbing a few books to allay any suspicions should Madam Pince come looking, he sat back and began to think about the Mudblood and the Potions Master.
As he saw it there were two options. Option one: Granger and Snape really were in a relationship and were using extra Potions lessons as a cover for them to spend time together. In which case Granger was fully aware of everything they were doing and was happily participating. Which meant that she really did enjoy doing those things . . . and . . . unbelievable though it was, she really did have a thing for Snape.
Or option two: Snape was performing some sort of spell on Granger to make her agreeable to doing those perverted things he wanted and that she, potentially, wouldn’t even consider doing normally, and she would probably be absolutely horrified if she discovered how he had been using her. Snape was then suppressing or eliminating the memory somehow, although clearly not through Obliviation. He would have seen Snape doing that. So Snape had obviously found another way to do it.
Draco frowned. As much as he would have liked Granger to be the sort of girl who experimented and obviously enjoyed kinky sex he couldn’t, in all honesty, believe it was true. She was far too much of a prude the rest of the time, and although he had seen her doing those things he had trouble both believing that she had happily agreed to it and that she would want to do them with Snape. Who would want to? Even most Slytherins agreed that their House Master was a snarky, greasy bastard.
But at the same time, if the reverse was true, then that made him the biggest sort of slimeball for letting Snape continue to abuse Granger while he watched purely to establish just how dirty she would get. And it made Snape some sort of perverted abuser, who really needed exposing in order to stop him from doing such things to other poor young women. And that raised the question of how many times he had done it over the years. There could be many witches walking around unaware of having been sexually abused by the Potions Master. After all, he’d had years to perfect his spell.
Granger seemed happy enough. It wasn’t as if Snape had forced her to do anything she didn’t want to do and it hadn’t affected the rest of her life in any way. Draco thought that had Granger shown any sign of being distressed at what she was being asked to do or had downright tried to refuse he would have forgone watching to go and free her from Snape regardless of the penalty. At least, he liked to think that was what he would have done. But the small voice in his brain, which he was trying very hard to ignore, was telling him that he wouldn’t have helped her. She was a Mudblood, after all, and why would he risk being hexed or possibly expelled to help her? And what if she did struggle a bit or didn’t want to do it? Eventually Snape would charm her enough that she would give in.
He sighed. If only there was some way he could be sure. Obviously, it would be best for all concerned if Granger and Snape were a couple and it would give him plenty of leeway for blackmail. But the more he considered it the more he was convinced that wasn’t the case. So now he had to decide what to do about it. On one hand he should, morally, stop Snape from taking advantage of Granger. But of course, he wanted her himself, wanted her to do with him all those things she had done with Snape, and grassing on the teacher wasn’t going to achieve that.
Granger would be so disgusted at what had happened to her, possibly so shocked, that it might even be enough to put her off sex ever again and certainly not be open to persuasion from him, he who had always been her nemesis and who she would assume had been more than happy to embarrass her with the knowledge of what she had done. Who would he tell, anyway? His relationship with Dumbledore wasn’t like Potter’s. He had always despised the man for being a weak Muggle-lover and none of the other teachers were a match for Snape — not even McGonagall, even assuming he could get her to listen to him.
His best bet was to find a way to stop Snape and make Granger think he had rescued her from the Potions Master’s evil clutches. With any luck, that way she would be much more receptive to him as her saviour and after an appropriate period he could begin getting her to repay him for his help. He searched the shelves of the Library looking for a possible spell that Snape might have used, although of course he had probably refined and improved it over the years. What might have started as a simple spell could have been reworked so that he could control and remove the memory, too.
So what about the Imperius Curse, then? the little voice in his brain asked.
Draco considered it. Well, it would definitely give Snape the power to get Granger to do exactly what he wanted, and she would seem happy to do so and it would be easy enough to make her forget anything she had done under the effect of the curse. And it wasn’t like Snape wouldn’t use an Unforgivable Curse — he was a Death Eater, after all. That had to be it. Satisfied now that he had worked it out, Draco put away the books and grabbing his bag he made his way back to the Slytherin common room. He still had to work out what he was going to do to get Granger away from Snape and into his bed instead, but if worst came to worst he also knew how to use the Imperius Curse.

Draco had been unable to keep from watching Granger and Snape throughout the evening meal, so used had he become to keeping an eye on them. However, this evening no glance passed between the pair at any point. Draco realised he was relieved at that and wondered whether it meant Granger wasn’t going to be brewing Potions that evening after all.
Now that he had pretty much decided that Snape was her abuser rather than bona fide lover he was worried about what the man was going to do to the Mudblood in the future. Just how perverted and dark were his desires? Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to find out that night because he had to spend the evening with McGonagall and that prat Weasley. But he seriously hoped Granger wasn’t going to be spending the evening with Snape.
Nine o’clock found Draco and Ron helping Filch with cleaning the silver cups in the trophy room, having been tasked thus by Professor McGonagall once they arrived at her office. The two of them were sitting at a table, both scowling fiercely at the work they were doing, each blaming the other for being there. Draco found the cleaning gave his brain a chance to work overtime on the Snape problem and he thought he might have a plan. The only thing was it would mean trying to mend broken bridges and put aside old enmities.
The easiest way to Granger was through Potter and Weasley; if they were convinced he had her best interests at heart, so might she be. With them on his side, it would be easier for him to convince Granger that he wasn’t purely interested in embarrassing her, and he would be on the road to getting her where he wanted her. But that, of course, meant pretending the hatred that had existed between him and the idiots ever since their first day at Hogwarts was no longer there. It meant no more fighting and arguing and taking the opportunity to cause trouble for them. Somehow he had to make up with them and try to be . . . friends.
Draco glanced across the table at Weasley, who was still scowling as he polished furiously. He wondered what he was thinking. He could probably guess, actually. Weasley was blaming him for being there, even though it was the redhead who had started the fight — the physical fight, at any rate, obviously Draco had inflamed the situation in the first place. But it was so hard not to, and even now as he thought about how he had to make friends with the blood-traitor prat, he couldn’t help but think of things to say that he knew would wind the boy up.
But he had to make the effort. Weasley was probably going to be the hardest one to win over. The boy was Pure-blood and yet was a polar opposite from Draco, and he had genuine affection for Granger which he obviously hadn’t yet realised was desire. Weasley had always been fiercely protective of the Mudblood and was always the first to think badly of the Slytherins, Draco in particular, especially the way he had treated Granger over the years, and would surely be suspicious of any attempts Draco made to be friendly. Well, he had to try.
He put down the cloth and looked at Weasley, carefully ensuring his face was neutral. Ron ignored him for a few minutes, still intent on polishing the cup. Then, when he could finally no longer bear Draco constantly staring in his direction, he scowled at him angrily.
‘What’s your problem, Malfoy?’ he growled.
Draco shrugged. ‘Just bored with this bloody cleaning,’ he said lazily. ‘Aren’t you?’
Weasley shrugged in response but continued rubbing half-heartedly at the cup. A moment later he said gruffly, ‘Well, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.’
Draco had to bite down the retort that sprang instantly to his lips. He was trying to smooth things over with the prat not make things worse.
He slowly nodded and sighed. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’
Ron looked at him in surprise, dropping both the cup and the cloth onto the table. ‘What did you say?’
Draco looked back at him. ‘I said I’m sorry. I don’t want to be here any more than you do. It really is a complete waste of an evening.’ For a moment he thought about Granger and Snape and wondered if they were together, but then he pushed the thought out of his mind. He needed to concentrate. ‘I have so many other things I could be doing,’ he added.
Ron nodded in agreement. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m missing Quidditch practice.’
This time, Draco really did have to try hard to bite back a comment. Taunting Weasley about his Quidditch skills had always been one of his favourite pastimes. Instead, he pushed the cup he had been working on aside and sat back in his chair.
‘What does Granger do while you and Potter are away practising Quidditch?’ he asked, trying not to sound too curious.
Ron looked at Draco suspiciously. ‘Why do you want to know?’
Draco shrugged again. ‘I dunno, I guess I just wondered if she ever actually stopped studying and did something fun. I’ve seen her in the Library sometimes when everyone else with half a brain would be relaxing.’ He sounded dismissive. ‘I picture her still bent over her school books at midnight, feverishly writing yet another twelve-foot-long essay.’ He gave a roguish grin as if sharing a joke.
Ron snorted. ‘Well, that’s true enough. She rarely stops studying. I think she spends most of her evenings in the Library. You would think she would get fed up with the bloody place, but she’s always in there.’
‘Perhaps she doesn’t know how to relax,’ Draco suggested.
‘I think you’re right. Even when there’s a party in the common room or something she’s always nagging me and Harry to get our homework done first.’ Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head. ‘And you should see the revision timetables she draws up for us each year.’ He grinned ruefully. ‘And she’s so bloody bad-tempered if we don’t follow them or if we stop her from following hers.’
Draco nodded understandingly. ‘I hate all that revising. I mean, I do it, but I prefer to do it when I’m in the mood — you know, when I feel like a bit of revising not when someone tells me to.’
‘I know what you mean,’ Ron responded fervently. ‘When she starts moaning and pushing I just get really pissed off and then we end up arguing. I think Harry gets fed up with us sometimes. Mind you, he doesn’t like her forcing us to study, either.’
‘I’m surprised she’s not panicking about the N.E.W.T.s, then,’ Draco said mildly. ‘I mean we’ve only got another four months or something.’ He gave a chuckle.
Ron ran his hand through his hair and grimaced. ‘Don’t remind me.’ He put his hand in his pocket and brought out a dog-eared piece of paper that had been folded many times. He threw it at Malfoy, who caught it and opened it. He looked with interest at the carefully drawn and beautifully coloured timetable. It was a work of art.
‘My timetable for revision as drawn up by Hermione,’ Ron said bleakly. ‘Oh yes, we’ve already started.’
Draco studied it for a few minutes, shaking his head in amazement. Well, if nothing else Granger had been very thorough. Thank Merlin, she hadn’t done one of these for him or they would have had a major argument.
‘When do you get time to relax?’ he asked doubtfully, peering at the paper again.
‘Exactly,’ Ron said glumly. ‘And she nags like mad if we try to get out of doing it. She didn’t even want us to take time out of the schedule to practice Quidditch.’
‘This detention is probably a bit of a break for you, then,’ Draco said jokingly, ‘although it is a shame it interfered with Quidditch,’ he added quickly. ‘Does she keep an eye on you all the time to make sure you do it?’
Ron shrugged. ‘She does usually, but I think she’s more stressed than normal as these are the N.E.W.T.s, so she’s preparing more thoroughly. She’s been going off on her own every night, I assume to the Library.’ He broke off for a second, obviously considering revision. ‘To be honest, it’s good ‘cos it gives us a breather.’
‘Aren’t you worried about her?’ Draco asked without thinking.
‘Why?’ Ron looked suspiciously at Draco. ‘Do you know something I don’t?’
Draco shook his head quickly. ‘No, I just mean if she’s going off on her own all the time . . . especially if she’s so stressed.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Ron assured him. ‘She’s better off on her own. Hermione gets a bit mental sometimes.’
‘Really?’ Draco looked amused.
‘Oh, I don’t mean mental as in screwy,’ Ron said quickly, ‘not exactly, anyway. I just mean that sometimes it’s better to leave her alone.’
Draco nodded sympathetically. ‘Yeah, Pansy gets like that. I think it’s a female thing — time of the month and stuff.’
‘Whatever it is, it’s definitely better to let her be elsewhere,’ Ron confided darkly. ‘Especially after she’s done a revision timetable.’
Ron picked up his cloth and the cup and began polishing again. After a couple of seconds Draco followed suit. They worked quietly for another ten minutes or so, then Ron looked up again.
‘So are you and Parkinson a couple?’ he asked Draco interestedly.
Draco shrugged, looking disinterested. ‘Sort of, I suppose. To be honest, I’m not really that fussed . . . but it keeps her happy to think she’s my girlfriend. You know what women are like.’ They shared a knowing grin as Ron nodded. ‘So are you and Granger?’
‘Nah.’ Ron coloured a little at the question. ‘We’re just friends, you know.’
He definitely does fancy her, though, Draco thought. He needed to tread carefully there. If he said the wrong thing he could ruin everything by making Weasley even more protective of the Mudblood.
‘So are she and Potter?’
‘No. They’re just friends, too.’ Ron’s voice was a little strained at this comment.
Draco nodded. ‘I have to admit I don’t see them as a couple,’ he confided, knowing Weasley would lap it up. ‘They always seem more like brother and sister to me.’ He went back to polishing the cup he was working on with a small smile.
Ron looked as if he wanted to ask something but then thought better of it. No, thought Draco. You’re not going to be her boyfriend either, Weasley. Granger’s mine, or will be once I get her away from Snape. He frowned as he thought of the Potions Master and hoped once more that Granger hadn’t gone down to work with him tonight.
After another half hour or so of cleaning both boys were thoroughly bored and so they gave up, choosing instead to chat, mainly about Quidditch. Draco had discovered that he and Weasley supported the same team, the Chudley Cannons. By the time Filch finally allowed them to leave Draco was confident that the groundwork had at least been laid for a truce with Weasley, if not a friendship just yet. Tomorrow he would try to extend that to Potter and then he would be all set.
As they walked back from the trophy room towards the Entrance Hall Draco asked, ‘So are you going to study now?’
Ron shook his head. ‘No way, I’ve done enough tonight.’ He frowned. ‘Hermione had better not give me a hard time tonight because I’m really not in the mood.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Mind you, she might not be back yet,’ he confided. ‘She’s been getting back really late recently. A couple of times she’s only just caught curfew.’
They had reached the Entrance Hall now.
Ron gave a yawn and stretched his arms above his head. ‘Well, I can’t say it’s been the most pleasant evening, Malfoy, but at least it’s been better than I expected.’ He gave Draco a brief smile. ‘You know, you’re not a complete git when you’re not with those mates of yours.’
Draco laughed. ‘I could say the same about you, Weasley. And you’re right, the evening turned out to be not too bad in the end. At least neither of us got nagged . . . at least not by our women.’ He stuck out his hand and shrugged. ‘Time to give each other another chance?’ he asked hopefully.
Ron nodded and took his hand. They shook briefly.
‘See you tomorrow, Weasley,’ Draco said as he turned away towards the stairs to the dungeons.
‘Later, Malfoy,’ Ron said as he headed for the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.
As Draco walked down the stairs he thought about Weasley. Once they got talking it turned out the boy wasn’t as bad as he had always thought although of course he was still a blood-traitor. And his love rival, too, even if he hadn’t yet realised that. Hopefully, Weasley wouldn’t work out his own feelings about Granger until Draco had managed to snare her. Then it would be too late.
Thinking of Granger made him think of Snape. He quickly hurried to the Potions classroom, crossing silently to the Potion Master’s study. He really hoped Granger hadn’t come down here tonight. Pulling out his wand, he quietly cast the revealing spell on the door. Shit, the door was definitely warded and the silencing charm was again in place. That must mean Granger was in there, and tonight he had no chance of seeing what they were up to.
For a moment, Draco considered waiting to see if Granger came out of the office but he decided there was no point. After all, by then she would be fully dressed again, it would be near or past curfew, and she was hardly likely to stop and talk to him, especially if she had just been un-charmed. He would just have to go back to the common room and try not to think about what he might have missed.
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