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Standing Up Only Leads to Trouble	By : Kaleidoscopeeyes Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 18051 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the characters from the stories. I make no money from writing this.

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Hermione was tired, freezing, and covered in flobberworm pus.

“Miss Granger, you will never be finished if you continue to use your knife like a Neanderthal.”

“Professor please, can’t I go? My hands are too cold to do this anymore.” She said miserably. “It’s eleven-thirty, and I still have my homework to do.”

“Absolutely not” Snape sneered cruelly. “Your detention for tonight was to fill that entire jar. You still have over a third of the way to go. Keep working.”

She wiped off her hands and stuck them under her armpits, trying to get some feeling back into them. She knew better than to ask Professor Snape if she could use a heating charm. “No magic, Miss Granger.” He’d say. “Don’t make me tell you again.” Hermione removed her hands and stretched them experimentally. She winced as sharp pains shot through her knuckles. Well, at least they weren’t numb anymore. She sighed and cut into the next flobberworm. She did a little better this time and got marginally more in the jar (and less on her clothing).

This was only her fourth detention but she already felt like she’d rather battle a mountain troll than go to another one. During her first detention, Snape made her scrub caldrons until her hands were raw, repeatedly telling her to redo them because she had “missed a spot”. The second night, Hermione strained her back cleaning frog guts off the ceiling. On the third night, Snape had her grade first year essays – a welcome reprieve from the manual labor. At ten-thirty she proudly announced that she had finished, only to have the Potion Master inform her that she had done them all wrong. She must have fallen asleep redoing them, because at two in the morning he awoke her and told her to add two more days to her sentence for wasting his time.

Between the lengthy detentions and all her homework, Hermione had only managed to get two or three hours of sleep per night in the last few days. She had even fallen asleep in History of Magic today. It wasn’t as if she had been the only one asleep, or that Professor Binns had noticed, but she had never fallen asleep in a class before now and it disturbed her that she had today.

The grueling tasks and long hours were bad enough, but by far the worst part of the detentions was Professor Snape himself. Supposedly, he was grading student work, but Hermione was dubious. His desk was always covered in parchment and potions, but he never actually seemed to be working on them. As far as she could tell, the only thing he did was stare at her. Almost every time she had looked at him during the last few days, his eyes were on her; sometimes glaring, sometimes stoic, sometimes thoughtful, but always looking at her. She could only assume he was trying to intimidate her and make her nervous; force her to make mistakes.

The really upsetting part was that it was working.

Hermione was constantly on edge during the detentions. More than once she had met his gaze – trying to show him how rude he was being – but he never looked away. He’d simply say “back to work Miss Granger” and she would turn back to her task, feeling his eyes boring into her. This made her anxious and distracted and when she inevitably made a mistake, he was the first to notice. There always seemed to be a sharp ridicule poised on the tip of his tongue.

This would be enough to make anyone’s nerves wear thin, and Hermione felt as though hers were about to snap.

She glanced over at Snape. He was staring at her. Big surprise.

“Glowering at me won’t get you to your precious homework any sooner Miss Granger.” He said, nonchalantly picking at a fingernail. “Why don’t you put your little know-it-all brain to the task and figure out a quicker way to finish? Or perhaps you have never read a book about flobberworm pus, and therefore have no idea what to do in a practical situation.”

Snap.

Hermione stood up straight and scowled. “You don’t frighten me, Professor.”

“Excuse me?” His face darkened.

“I said,” her voice rose, “that you don’t frighten me. You can sit there and stare at me as much as you like, and you can make snide comments about how I do things, but I am not scared of you.”

He stood up and walked over to where she was standing. “Perhaps a little fear might be healthy, Miss Granger.” He said in a low voice.

Hermione scoffed. “What’s there to be afraid of? You’re cruel and rude. You prey on student insecurities. You give out detentions and take points, but in the end, that’s all you ever do. You constantly threaten students with expulsion, but I wonder if you have ever actually succeeded in expelling a student. You said yourself that you couldn’t get me expelled, even if you tried! You’re all bark but no bite.”

Snape’s hand twitched and he swallowed twice in quick succession. For a moment Hermione thought he was going to yell at her, but instead he said “Finish your work, and get out Miss Granger” through gritted teeth. He turned and walked back to his desk.

“No.”

He whipped around. “What did you say?”

Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking, but Hermione suddenly felt extremely determined. She was tired of him scaring her, tired of thinking of him more often than a student should think of a teacher, tired of shoving feelings back into the depths of her mind because they were strange and wrong. She wanted to get him out of her psyche, and confronting him seemed to be the only way. If she convinced herself that she was no longer afraid of him, than her mind just might return to normal.

“I’m not doing this anymore. I’m leaving.” She started towards the door.

Snape stepped into her path. His face contorted with cold anger. “You aren’t going anywhere. Get. Back. To. Work. Now.”

“No.”

Hermione noted, in a self-satisfied sort of way, that she had never seen the Potions Master looked so shocked.

“Miss Granger.” He growled. “If you do not return to work this instant I will be forced to–”

“Give me another detention? Take more points?” She could hardly believe the words that were coming out of her own mouth. “Go ahead! You’ve already done an impossible amount of both, what’s a few more?"

There was a long moment of silence as they stared each other down.

“Get back to work.” he hissed.

“No.”

The word had barley left her mouth before Snape pounced, grabbing the back of her neck and twisting her around. “You will learn respect, even if I have to force it out of you.” He pushed her back to her work station. “Finish” he commanded.

Hermione was so surprised that he’d grabbed her that, for a moment, she could do nothing but stare down at the flobberworms, feeling his cool hands gripping her shoulder and neck.

Snape seemed to take this as more defiance on her part, and reacted by pinning her against the table with his body, and grabbing each of her hands with one of his own. His large hands seemed to envelope hers as he forced her to pick up her knife and thrust it into a worm with such force that some of the pus shot up to her face.

“Stop it.” Hermione whispered, suddenly feeling as though she was doing something very wrong. “Stop”

“You should have done what you were told.” He growled.

The heat from his body was seeping through their clothing, and Hermione could feel the vibrations of his voice in her back. A thrill suddenly went through her body. Adrenalin started pumping through her veins, and she began to breathe rapidly. Next came a rush of embarrassment that turned her face a glaring red. She had to get him off of her. She struggled and pushed backwards, trying to break away, but Snape used his superior strength and weight to slam her roughly back into the table.

“You have forced me to take drastic measures, and now we both must face the consequences.” He wrapped her hand around the worm and squeezed it into the jar with such force that a couple of her knuckles popped.

Snape was breathing hard now also. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest and a warm rush of wind against her ear. She shivered, and her entire body broke out in goose-pimples. As absurd as it was, she could feel panic boiling up from her stomach to press against her teeth.

“Please,” She said, more weakly than she had intended. “Please Professor, let me go.”

He didn’t answer, but forced her to take another worm.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do it myself.” Her voice was becoming high and urgent. “I’m sorry!”

When he still refused to answer her, she broke down into tears. She couldn’t help it; she felt trapped and frightened, and a part of her (a part that Hermione was currently trying very hard to suppress) felt something akin to excitement. Above all she felt so, so confused.

“Your tears won’t save you this time, Miss Granger.” Snape said harshly.

And those were the last words spoken between them until, after a quarter hour, Snape finally released a very tired and sore Hermione.

He ran a hand through his hair and pointed towards the door. “We’re finished here. Get out.”

Hermione looked down at the ground; her tears had dried up but her whole body shaking in anger and embarrassment. She spoke quietly. “You’re horrible Professor. I hope you know that. I think–”

Snape grabbed her collar and pulled her close to him, forcing her to look into his face. “When will you learn to keep your insolent mouth shut Miss Granger?” He gestured angrily at the pus-covered work station. “Didn’t this teach you anything? For one who is supposedly so eager to learn, you are infuriatingly thick headed!”

Hermione was stunned silent.

“I think” he continued “you may be spending a little too much time around Potter and Weasley.” He dragged her to the door by her collar. “I am nearing my breaking point, Miss Granger. Do not push me any further.”

He opened the door and shoved her out. “Don’t make any plans for the rest of the year. You will be spending every evening with either Filch or me until I decide that you’ve learnt your lesson.

As soon as she opened her mouth to protest, Snape slammed the door in her face.

Hermione was restless that night. She fretted over the hot, firm body that had held her so forcefully and that mouth that said such cruel things. Only half awake, her fingers found their way into her panties and she slowly stroked and clutched at herself until she fell asleep.

******

“He gave you detention for the rest of the year?” Ron’s eyes were bugging out of his head.

“Technically he said, ‘until I’ve learnt my lesson’.” She muttered.

It was Saturday evening – the day after her horrible detention with Professor Snape, and the three of them were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, nursing large cups of hot chocolate.

“Snape doesn’t believe that we can learn anything. You’ll be scrubbing caldrons for the rest of eternity.” Harry shook his head. “Hermione, what did you do?

“I… I don’t know.” She said in a withdrawn sort of way. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything but Professor Snape. Why was she reacting like this towards him? She’d never experienced anything like this before. What was happening to her? She was afraid of him… but, some small part of her (the part she was, again, attempting to suppress) wanted to see him again. Some part of her was dying to find out just what it was about him that was making her so crazy. “I told him off… again… I suppose.”

“There’s a time and a place for mouthing off to Snape.” Ron said slowly. “Do you think you might’ve gone a little overboard?”

She scowled at him.

“You have to go talk to Professor McGonagall. She won’t stand for this. Snape’s gone too far this time.” Harry said bitterly.

Hermione had already thought of that. “I did – first thing this morning. She already knew. She seemed really angry about it but…”

“Yes?” Ron prompted.

She shook her head and looked into her mug. “I don’t know. She said that she’d spoken to Dumbledore about it, but it was ‘out of her hands’. She said that’d I’d just have to do as well as I could in my detentions, and hope that Professor Snape would let me off sooner than later.”

Harry looked shocked. “Are you sure that’s what she said? There has to be some mistake! Dumbledore would never allow this!”

She shrugged without looking up.

“Hermione,” Ron said in a low, worried voice, “what are you going to do?”

She stared into the fire and sighed. “I have no idea.”

The next morning, Hermione got an owl during breakfast:

Miss Granger,

You will be serving your detentions with Filch until further notice. Report to his “office” promptly at 8 o’clock; every weeknight, beginning tomorrow.

Please note that any failure to comply with his instructions will be reported to me and effectively penalized.

Severus Snape

Out of embarrassment she had yet avoided looking at the staff, but now she couldn’t help it. She turned her gaze towards the head table and was surprised, relieved, (and a little disappointed?) to see that Professor Snape was not in attendance.
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Standing Up Only Leads to Trouble