The Burning Pen

Through the Looking Glass
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 16

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 16 ~ Reactions

When Hermione walked to breakfast, she was surprised to be greeted with smiles from her Slytherin housemates as she sat down at the table. This time, no one moved away from her but actually crowded in.

”Good job, Hermione,” Ron said to her, chewing on a piece of bacon.

Harry’s green eyes studied her soberly.

”I don’t think you did what you did on purpose. You’re not that good,” the boy-who-lived said in a dark voice. “But you’re going to get the credit for it, despite shagging Snape.”

”I didn’t shag professor Snape,” Hermione said to him as the other Slytherins looked at her curiously. “I only kissed him a few times.”

”Ew. Gross,” a few Slytherins muttered.

Apparently, even kissing Snape was greatly frowned upon.

”Still, he got caned for you, so you must have made some kind of impression on him. No one ever made him take stripes. Must be your goody-goody gene. You’re still a Gryffindor after all, and Snape’s lame enough to want to protect you even though you’re in Slytherin,” Harry said, looking rather disgusted before returning to his breakfast.

”Caned for me? What? Oh, no!” Hermione said, looking up at the dais. Snape was sitting there and all the teachers were looking at him mirthfully as he ate his breakfast. Students were laughing as well. What a fucking wuss. Gryffindor table was sullen and silent. They understood why their Head of house did what he did, but it was still a downer that the rest of the school considered him a laughing stock.

Tom Riddle was shaking his head as Filch recounted how he whipped the Transfiguration teacher’s ass.

”I didn’t spare the rod, let me tell you. You should have heard him howl, Headmaster . . . it was beautiful,” Filch told him. “I hope I catch the girl again. Maybe he’ll give a repeat performance.”

Then Minerva, who was sitting on the other side of Tom, told him how bad the welts had been, although Filch didn’t break the skin. He nearly did however.

”Severus Snape is a sentimental idiot, hardly suited for his position. A decent teacher would have at least demanded redress from the witch. And her extra credit work was actually pitiful and time consuming. Kisses. Can you believe it?” Tom groused.

Minerva’s eyes narrowed.

”When are you going to actively work on sending her back, Tom? She really doesn’t belong here. Just watching her mimick our Miss Granger makes me sick to my stomach, particularly since she’s engaged Snape. I want our Hermione back,” the Potions mistress said.

Tom looked down at Hermione, who was eating with one arm curled protectively around her bowl of porridge.

”I plan to do it shortly. I’m just working on some details,” the wizard replied obliquely. “Unlike Snape, I’m a wizard that sets conditions. She wants to go home, so I’ve no doubt she’ll accept them.”

”Conditions, Tom? Are you sure that’s . . . smart?” Minerva asked him.

Tom looked at her calmly with his black eyes, then suddenly pulled his wand.

”Cruc!” he snarled, hitting her with the reduced Cruciatus Curse commonly used in their world.

Minerva shrieked and shuddered in her seat, the students and staff watching as their Headmaster applied correction. Finally, he released her, and the witch sunk down in her chair, wracked with pain.

”Never, ever question my judgment, Minerva,” Tom said to her softly. “You forget yourself.”

”Yes, H . . H . . . Headmaster,” Minerva gasped as the wizard returned to his meal.

The students started talking again as if nothing happened.

Hermione stared up at the dais in horror.

”He Crucio’d the Potions mistress and nobody says anything?” Hermione said out loud.

All the Slytherins looked at her in disgust and those on either side of her shifted away, leaving space again.

Bloody Gryffindor.

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In Advanced Transfiguration, Hermione watched professor Snape closely. Slytherins were passing around drawing of him getting caned by Filch, with little word balloons of him crying and begging the wizard to stop, thick, pulsating stripes across his ass. The wizard heard the muted laughter but didn’t do anything to stop it. After class, Hermione walked up to his desk. There was no line for extra credit today, proving that his own Gryffindors were too ashamed to engage him. The wizard looked up at her.

”Yes, Miss Granger?” he asked the witch, frowning slightly.

”You . . . you took my caning for me. Why didn’t you say anything? I wouldn’t have let you do it,” Hermione said to him.

”That’s precisely why I didn’t tell you, Miss Granger. You would have interfered,” he replied.

”Now, you’re a laughingstock. I’m so sorry,” she said to him softly.

”It’s fine. I’m used to being maligned, Miss Granger. It’s just the way things are,” he responded.

Hermione couldn’t help but think this Snape and the Snape in her world still had something in common, being reviled by others.

”I just feel so bad about it,” the witch said, feeling helpless.

Snape sat back in his chair and frowned at her.

”You have no reason to feel bad about it, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t continue to harp on it. Eventually, the laughter will die down,” he told her.

Hermione looked down at his schedule sheet. It was empty, some appointments with lines drawn through them . . . cancelled.

”You don’t seem to have much extra credit lined up,” she said to him quietly.

Snape looked down at the schedule.

”One of the side effects of taking your caning. My students have withdrawn for the moment, although things will pick up again in a couple of weeks, I’m sure,” the Transfiguration teacher responded.

”Well, I could schedule again for more extra credit,” she suggested. She really did feel like spending a snogging session with the wizard, particularly considering what he’d done for her and what he was going through.

Snape looked rather pained.

”Er . . . I would rather not, Miss Granger. I’ve been taking a bit of heat for spending hours with a student only kissing. The Headmaster considered it mismanagement of time and a way of cheating the system via repetition of the same act more times than necessary. So, I’m sorry but I can no longer schedule you for that,” he informed the witch.

Hermione’s heart sunk. Then she brightened.

”How about I visit you during your free time?” she said, then realized she shouldn’t have suggested it by the shocked way Snape looked at her.

”Miss Granger! Teachers never engage students for their pleasure. Extra credit is one thing, but dalliances outside of educational advancement are grounds for being sacked or expelled! What you are suggesting would cost me my job!” he said to her severely.

Hermione blinked at him. She didn’t know this.

”I’m . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest . . . “ she said to the upset wizard.

”You obviously need to bone up on the rules, Miss Granger, and quickly,” he snapped at her.

Now she had made the only ally she had in the school angry at her.

”I didn’t mean it. Maybe . . . maybe we could do something other than kiss. Open-mouthed kissing with heavy petting maybe?” she said. He had caressed her lightly yesterday, and it had felt wonderful. Hermione had wanted to French kiss him, but he stuck to the activity she’d set in motion originally. And she was too shy to initiate more herself.

Snape shook his head.

”No, I don’t think so, Miss Granger. I’m in for a bit of a sexual dry spell. Such an activity would only leave me frustrated. I’m just going to have to wait until a more open-minded and experienced student deigns to up his or her grade. It is better to go without than to go halfway.”

Hermione stared at him for a moment, biting her lip.

”Could I see what you went through with Filch? By Legilimency?” she ventured.

”What purpose would that serve, Miss Granger? If you were your counterpart, I’d think you’d want to get off on my pain,” he replied.

”I just want to see what you went through . . . how bad it was,” she said to him.

”I’m sure Filch has made a number of Pensieves he’s passed out to staff and likely certain students. You ought to be able to locate one easily, since you are the reason for my caning. Others would love to see your reaction,” he said, his voice rather bitter.

”I don’t want to see it because of that . . . I . . . I just want to know for myself what you went through. You did it for me, after all. I’d rather find out from you,” she said, her eyes filling.

Dear gods. Not again.

”Fine. Just don’t start bloody crying again,” Snape snapped at her, angry she was manipulating him and that he was soft enough to fall for it.

Hermione sniffed, pulled out her wand and pointed it at him.

”Legilimens,” she breathed, entering the wizard’s mind.

She watched as he walked over to the wall, unbuckling his trousers. He wasn’t manacled as he lowered his trousers, revealing a sparkling white pair of briefs, which he pulled down as well. He pulled up his white dress shirt and folded it over his head so it wouldn’t be in the way.

Gods, his ass was so muscular and tight, and his thighs were strong. She could only slightly see his nads because of the way he was standing, and nothing of his cock as he bent slightly and pressed both palms against the wall.

Hermione watched as Filch chose the largest, heaviest cane and walked up behind the wizard with an evil smile, standing slightly to the side. He gripped it like a cricket bat.

”Here’s one, Snape,” the wizard hissed, swinging the cane across his buttocks hard. The professor’s back flexed and he let out a groan. A long red welt stretched across both cheeks.

”Again!” Filch growled, bringing it down on his tight flesh again, lower this time, the wizard buckling in place. Then again, and again until Snape howled from the pain, and continuing howling as Filch tore across his flesh with heavy whacks. It was horrible. It was clear Filch meant for him to suffer. He would never have beaten a student the way he did Snape. There were limits with students. Not staff.

Hermione pulled out of his mind, tears falling from her eyes.

Snape groaned as they rolled down her cheeks..

”The only reason I let you in, Miss Granger was to avoid the tears,” he told her, once again retrieving his handkerchief and handing it to the sobbing witch.

”That was so terrible . . . I had no idea he was so cruel to you,” she gulped, trying to stem the tears.

”Cruel is Argus’ middle name . . . or should be. But, I was treated by your Head of House now. The only hurt I feel is a bit of wounded pride. It will pass. It always does. Now, you’d best get to your next class,” he said, writing her out a pass and handing it to her.

Hermione handed him back the handkerchief and stared down at him.

”You’d better go, Miss Granger. There’s nothing more you can do, other than stay out of Filch’s way. I’m not willing to stand in for you again,” he said, starting to put his schedule away.

Hermione watched him open the top drawer of his desk and start to put the schedule in.

”Wait,” she said. Snape froze in place, the parchment partially in the drawer.

”Take the schedule out, Professor. I want to schedule some extra credit . . . for tomorrow evening,” she told him, her brown eyes glistening. “Something . . . something that won’t leave you . . . frustrated.”

Snape stared at her for a moment, then slowly returned the schedule to his desk. He picked up a quill and dipped it into the inkwell, shaking off the excess, then poising the point over the parchment.

”Are you sure about this, Miss Granger? Backpedaling will cost you one hundred points,” he said warningly, although his black eyes glittered expectantly. There was only one act she could perform that wouldn’t leave him frustrated. That was full intercourse.

Hermione looked at him with a bit of trepidation. Spending time with the professor yesterday had brought out quite a few yearnings in the witch, very improper yearnings. She didn’t know the man. She wasn’t in love with him, but his kisses and touches caused a definite reaction in her. She thought . . . she thought sex with him would be nice. Probably more than nice. But still . . .

”I . . . I’m almost sure. I just don’t want to be hurt, Professor,” she said to him.

Snape’s eyes drifted over the nervous witch.

”A bit of initial pain can’t be helped, Miss Granger, but . . . I can assure you, I won’t leave you unprepared,” he said in a low voice. “Judging by your reactions to me last night, I believe you will be quite willing by the time we engage. It’s up to you, however. Just know that your decision will be binding, unless you are willing to lose those points.”

Hermione studied him, wishing she could get one kiss from him to remind her just how good they were. But she couldn’t. It was against the rules. Contact had to be because of extra credit.

”I’ll do it,” she said softly, her belly all aflutter.

”Nine o’clock?” he asked her softly.

Hermione nodded and he wrote it in with a flourish.

He put the quill down.

”It’s done, Miss Granger. Be at my office at nine o’clock tomorrow night. Be punctual.”

”I will be,” Hermione said, feeling as if the entire world was turning around on her. She unsteadily made her way out of Snape’s classroom, the wizard looking after her thoughtfully.

”Well, I’ll be damned,” he said to himself when the door closed. He really hadn’t expected that from the witch. But, at least he was going to get something other than ridicule out of his noble gesture.

And, she was a virgin. That certainly sweetened the cauldron.

Humming, he put the parchment away, feeling a bit better than he did initially as he made his way to his office.

A virgin.

Yes.

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A/N: Oh, that Gryffindor sense of guilt come in handy, doesn’t it? Thanks for reading.

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