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H.G.'s Guide to Workplace Harassment	By : dezzu Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 8404 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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His measured steps through the empty corridors this evening were not propelled by the kind of malicious energy that normally seemed to fill the wizard-shaped vessel known as Severus Snape to overflowing.
His long, lean legs kept a casual pace; his path down the hallways was anything but straight, and corners were taken in leisurely arcs. He passed noiselessly through the corridors, sans robes, still feeling pleasantly full from dinner.
His waking hours during the summer break had been filled with a mixture of idle pursuits, setting personal affairs in order, and a few habits that he refused to give up—such as patrolling a designated set of hallways once curfew began.
With the new term starting just a week from now, he’d soon be missing these peaceful days dearly. Students would fill so much of the school with their noise, messes, and mischief; he’d only find relief from it within the privacy of his quarters, or through minor acts of vengeance that he’d enact upon the non-Slytherin members of the student body who tested his patience.
He wouldn’t find any teens engaging in clumsy, hormone-fueled snogging and fondling in the nooks and crannies of the dimly-lit corridors tonight. Nor would he be gifted with the thrill of lashing back against the relentless tide of bumbling idiots and know-it-alls by catching curfew violators in mid-flight, or be challenged with coming up with new and innovative forms of detention for students who really pissed him off.
Since the announcement several months ago of his former student, Hermione Granger, being made part of the incoming teaching staff, memories had been resurfacing daily of the stress that her dunderheaded friends had caused him. He hadn’t experienced anything like that particular group of students since. Thank Merlin for that.
As he reached the final stretch of his route, he was toying with the idea of having a stiff drink and skimming the Classifieds in the Daily Prophet upon returning to his quarters.
Moaning Myrtle tended to keep her pitiful wailing to a minimum when students were on holiday, so he didn’t expect to hear anything more than perhaps some faint weeping as he approached her infamous abode.
The door to the bathroom appeared to be slightly ajar; a soft sort of thumping sound was emanating faintly from within. Cool air hit his face as he moved towards the narrow gap, bringing up a hand to push the rough door just wide enough to slip through.
The thumps steadily increased in volume as he slowly ventured further into the dimly-lit space. It seemed to be coming from the area housing the stalls and sinks.
The slightly erratic rhythm, unmistakeable in its nature to his impeccable sense of hearing, could only be made by one particular type of activity. He paused to listen, hoping to pick up on more...clues.
And, finally, there it was. A woman’s moan. Soft and muffled, like her mouth was full of something. Unwittingly, his mouth flooded with saliva at the sound.
A deep frown etched itself across his brow. He knew he probably shouldn’t be here.
Torn between the slightly annoying instinct to justly expose someone engaging in a lewd act outside of their quarters, an intense natural curiosity to know who the participants were, and—if he was in a mood to be honest with himself—a perverse fascination in hearing and watching others getting it off, his feet seemed to move of their own accord, and not in the direction from which he’d come. The thought of simply turning around and leaving never entered his mind.
None of the colleagues that he was acquainted with were fucking each other—of that he was certain. He honestly wouldn’t blame any of them for trying to engage in risky encounters outside of their quarters before students swarmed the place...though there was always the chance that a nosey ghost or house elf would appear, ruining the mood.
The one and only time he’d encountered Hogwarts staff engaging in intimate acts was when he caught two of his professors making out in a supply closet when he was 13.
He grimaced, as the memory of seeing them entwined and engaged in a rather heated battle of tongues flashed before his eyes. Had they been a more attractive pair of lovers, he might not have been so quick to make his exit.
In drudging up that rather repulsive memory, his brain was just trying to stall the inevitable decision about what he was going to do here.
Hide and listen until the act was over? Confront them, and potentially ruin his relationships with them?
The gentle thumping continued to propel him forward like a siren’s song. His ears strained intently for any whisper, rustle of fabric, groan…anything to further fuel his curiosity.
As he rounded a corner and came face-to-face with the row of bathroom stalls, he figured that whoever was engaging in some type of coitus—probably behind the closed stall door at the far end—could also be part of the newest round of staff members.
That little Medi-nurse assistant—Olive, wasn’t it? She wasn’t a former student of Hogwarts, and probably wasn’t aware of his scheduled patrols through this part of the castle.
“Mmmph…”
That rich exhalation of feminine pleasure, obviously escaping out through her nostrils because her lips were still stuffed full of whatever her lover was seeing fit to put between them, had his cock instantly stirring to life.
It was now out of his hands. Hiding and listening until the act was over was clearly the only course of action available to him.
He couldn’t move any further into the room; his shadow might reveal his entry into the bathroom proper. He leaned slightly against the nearest wall and waited with baited breath.
She did not disappoint.
More thick-sounding sighs and groans from her reached his ears, and had the blood in his head swiftly heading south to his rapidly-growing erection. The duration between her sounds of pleasure and thumps from what he assumed were thrusts from her partner against the wooden stall door were shortening. Perhaps they were nearing release. His hand drifted without hesitation to his cock, lightly gripping what he could of his rigid shaft through his woolen trousers and giving it a gentle upward stroke.
Despite feeling slightly light-headed, the sounds he was hearing were being effectively cataloged and filed away into memory for what would be an eager retrieval and dissemination session, soon to take place back at his quarters.
Her sounds began to take on a new pitch, potentially signaling the end of this highly-erotic detour in his evening routine. Just as he was starting to drift into a state of slightly euphoric bliss, imagining what was taking place behind that door—but trying to keep a grip on the tension that would keep him alert—it all fell to pieces.
He heard it.

“Hermione…”

...

That voice. That voice. That voice...that voice was mine! That was my voice!
The spot where he’d been leaning against the wall was suddenly empty.
Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom no longer contained the panic-filled, wizard-shaped vessel known as Severus Snape.

***

About 20 minutes later, the latch on the door to Hermione’s living quarters clicked shut. The Invisibility Cloak slipped to the floor, revealing her slightly tousled appearance.
A faint smile tugged at her lips. Her latest experiment, with a modified form of Polyjuice that only transformed the throat and vocal cords, had gone better than she’d hoped.
Her subject had reacted beautifully to the sound of his own voice coming from a source that was not himself. Heard during a point of high stress, it had caused an immediate flight response.
She slid the ceramic cup that she’d transfigured into an approximation of a dildo out of her pocket, using her wand to help it regain its original shape. It had worked rather well, too; not abrading her mouth so much that she hadn’t been able to effectively deliver the trigger word at the peak moment. Yes, it had all gone very well.
Don’t get cocky, Granger.
Adrenaline wearing off, eyelids heavy, she slowly got ready for bed. Tomorrow was going to be another long day.
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H.G.'s Guide to Workplace Harassment