Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Story of H	By : AnyaToile Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 62388 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters associated with it; I am not making any sort of money or compensation for this work.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
            “This bathroom is not one of typical design here at Hogwarts,” Snape said conversationally as he walked to the wall and traced a finger over the grout in the tile.

            After a moment, he walked back towards. He traced the snake and dragon motif on the wall with his eyes as he continued his explanation, “This particular bathroom was one of several rooms designed and used by Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor; they had…particular tastes – tastes for… sadism and… control.”

            “You don’t mean Slytherin and Gryffindor...”

            “No, they were not intimate with each other according to any of the written accounts by the women they connected themselves with, but they did… share. Gryffindor did occasionally take on young males, though.”

            Snape’s eyes had traveled the whole of the room and finally fell on her as he said, “This room, the only one known to still be in existence, was designed with the intent that the subject of their attentions was thoroughly … humbled by the experience for there was only one apparent option for those who found themselves in the same position as you. You’ve yet to ask a key question, Miss Granger.”

            Hermione glanced up at him, terrified as to what she was missing.

            Snape smiled nastily as he revealed the question she should have asked, “Where are the toilets?”

            Hermione, who had stiffed when he had revealed the disgusting reason for the table’s angle, began struggling like a rabbit snared in a trap.   She tugged at her restraints until she was sure the leather had cut her skin to ribbons

            “No! Professor, please, you have to let me down,” she sobbed, “Please. I know this isn’t necessary for the treatment. Please! I know it isn’t!”

            “For someone who’s never had an enema, Miss Granger, you seem to know quite a bit, though, such an ungrateful attitude is to be expected from you. And remember, this is no longer just a treatment; this is your punishment,” Snape said harshly.

            “I’ve already stood in the corner! I’ve already had to endure this. I’ve done enough!” Hermione’s voice wasn’t as commanding as she had intended it to be, “I know it was stupid not to come to Madam Pompfrey for the potion immediately! I realize that! But that punishment is disgusting! And far too severe! You can’t do this! Please! I need to get down. Now! I have to go the bathroom! Please!”

            Snape’s voice was a poisoned whip as he replied, “Cease your thrashing immediately, girl!”

            He grabbed the back of her neck and squeezed slightly; Hermione was forced to focus on that pressure instead of the one in her lower half.

            “Let me illuminate some things you seem to have forgotten. I’ll speak slowly so that it has time to permeate that dense head of yours. I, not you, will decide appropriate punishments for your negligence; however, this punishment is not solely for that alone. You have repeatedly failed to realize your place as a student. You have disrespected my judgment and therefore my authority and capabilities. You failed to cooperate during the treatment. And you have been a proverbial pain in my arse since the day you stepped in my classroom with your attention hungry hand-waving, your inability to allow any other student to garner something from doing his own work, and your self-righteous attitude. Let’s not forget your propensity for stealing from my personal which I stock with my own pittance of a salary.” –“ I didn’t st…” – “Don’t deny it, you lying little swat. First, the polyjuice ingredients and then the gillyweed – all more expensive than the sum of your personal belongings. You will, for once in your life, learn a little humility and come to understand you are not superior.”

            He bent his face towards her as he spoke quietly but with vehemence; the words were so breathy that Hermione couldn’t help but scrunch up her nose, deciding that she would somehow slip him a few oral hygiene potions. She couldn’t dare to think about openly suggesting that with her house minus forty points already because of her. When Snape was finished ranting, he straightened back up and while keeping his right hand on the back of her neck, used his other to remove the restraint on her left.

            His fingers worked deftly, dancing over the buckle and Hermione was once again reminded of how those fingers were like the elegant scrawl that always rendered her work invisible for the corrections. She fluttered her eyes closed as she remembered how amazing a single digit had felt buried to the hilt inside of her.

            She wasn’t quite relaxed – the constant mental and physical pressure to remain tense kept her from truly melting into the cool table beneath her—but she let out a content sigh as the Professor removed his hand from her neck and held her arm as he examined her wrist, lightly massaging it.

            “It appears no considerable damage has been done here. I’m sure it will be a blow to your vanity to know that you’ll have some nasty bruising but there are no signs of any abrasions.”

            He continued this process with her other restraints, walking around the table and looking her limbs over. Hermione felt him lift the bar pressing on her lower back.

            “Just a little redness here.”

            Hermione’s backside was still held in the air by the other bar under his hips when she felt the strongest cramp ever, followed by an intense hot flash that wouldn’t subside.

            “Oh! God!” Hermione howled and hit her fists against the table, snapping her legs together as tightly as possible.

            Her howling finally morphed into outright sobbing.

            “Please, Professor Snape, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” the words that came from her sounded torn between apology and begging, “Please don’t make me do this here.”

            “Calm down, you insipid child,” Snape’s voice was exasperated, “I have never intended to allow you soil yourself – the smell and sight would disgust me more than it would do you any good.”

            Hermione looked up as she heard his footsteps echoing off the marble walls. He stopped to the left of the sinks and knocked on the wall three times. A rumbling sound was heard and the wall disappeared into the ground, revealing a toilet.

            “I suggest you get down slowly,” he said coldly, “You need to crawl.”

            Hermione stared at him dumbfounded. He couldn’t expect her to crawl like an animal. When he tilted his head back and crossed his arms, she realized that yes, he did.

            She carefully maneuvered herself off the table. As she stood up, she realized why he had commanded her to move across the floor on her hands and knees. She clutched her stomach and lowered herself to her knees as the increased pressure startled her into almost messing the floor right there. Carefully, she settled on her hands and knees and found that if she lowered her front half so that she was on her forearms, the pressure lessened. By this time, she was covered in sweat and this made her painfully aware of the coldness of the floors. She began slowly making her way towards the toilet.

            Snape simply stared down at her, his eyebrow arched and a bored expression on his face.

            Hermione stopped half way across the floor to push the massive amounts of hair that had fallen forward from her face and glare at him.

            “Don’t you have anything better to do than watch me?” She demanded.

            “Ten points from Gryffindor for cheek, Miss Granger,” his voice was the stable baritone that it always was until he added in a lighter tone, “And another fifteen points from Gryffindor for poor grooming. You look like a drowned rat, Miss Granger.”

            “You can’t…”

            “Don’t finish that statement if you don’t wish to double the deduction.”

            Hermione gave him one last hard stare – had it been Ron or Harry or really any other boy, they would have cowered. But here stood before her Severus Snape, a man unaffected. Realizing this, she lowered her gaze and finished the torturous journey.

            When she looked back up from the floor she was started to see the pale, ungloved hand outstretched towards her. She simply stared at it, vaguely trying to discern what it was doing there. There were faint scars along the palm and a place that appeared to have been burnt recently on his pinky – potions accident, she decided.

            Snape took in a deep breath and let it out loudly, annoyance embedded in every carbon dioxide molecule.

            He snatched grabbed her upper arm and pulled her up. Hermione blinked as she found herself sitting on the toilet and Snape stalking away towards the sink.

            “Your time is not complete, yet. Do not release the enema until I tell you so.”

            In this position, Hermione thought that would be impossible. She had never needed to go so badly in her entire life and sitting up like this only intensified that feeling tenfold. Hermione began to massage her stomach in the same way that Snape had before, letting out shaking breaths as tears tracked down her face.

            “Sir, I can’t…Ican’tholditanylonger!”

            It was as if he apparated right there in front of her. Hermione looked up startled as he knelt down.

He grabbed her chin and said in a dangerously low voice, “That’s so typical Gryffindor; giving up because it’s a little difficult or its uncomfortable. Even a Hufflepuff could manage to hold it for the full time.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed and her nose flared slightly as she drew in an angry breath, reminding herself that he was a professor, a war hero, and he deserved respect. Besides, the pain of costing Gryffindor the house cup would far outweigh the current one.

She had nearly convinced herself to remain silent until he added, “That is the trademark of a true Gryffindor –never thinking anything through. You refuse to seek medical attention for some ridiculous sense of pride. You agree to do as I say and then don’t realize the implications of it. Gryffindors aren’t brave because they rush into battle; they’re idiots because they don’t consider consequences. And then they’re obnoxious when they meet with the smallest pain.”

She slapped his hand away and bit back, “One Gryffindor is worth twenty deceitful, self-serving snakes. You’d never find the Gryffindor head of house misusing their power for petty vengeance for unsubstantiated wrongs that happened years ago, Professor. We are not idiots or whiny. We can bravely face any task set before us. I’m trying my hardest…”

Snapes hand shot out, capturing her chin tightly between his fingers, tilting her head back as he leaned his face just inches from hers.

“Then prove it.”
- 5
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- 7
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The Story of H