Summary: "I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I've read all about them." –Hermione, SS/PS

Rating: M (F/f, spanking)

A/N: All the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own the characters/universe. Spanking of a minor will happen in this story. If that's not your thing, you probably should stop reading. I did warn you. Any and all feedback will be appreciated.

- - -

There was a soft knock on Professor Minerva McGonagall's office door, and at her command, it opened silently, and a tiny girl entered, eyes downcast.

"Miss Granger, look at me."

The small girl raised her head a few inches and peered up at her Head of House.

"You're obviously an intelligent girl, and if you've read about mountain trolls, you should know better than to face them alone. What on earth made you decide to follow that troll into the bathroom?"

Hermione looked completely abashed at this. She hadn't, of course, chosen to be attacked, but she could scarcely tell McGonagall that now. "I… I felt like I needed to do something special to make friends."

This was quite true. In standing up for Ron and Harry, Hermione had, she hoped, made two acquaintances, at the least. They had eaten breakfast, conversing happily together, and that seemed to be a start.

However, the breakfast had begun churning shortly after Transfiguration, when McGonagall had requested her presence after classes. The only two things Hermione could clearly remember were recommending Quidditch Through the Ages to Harry, and correcting Ron on his very first mis-step associated with Hogwarts: A History. Honestly, hasn't everyone read that book?one

All thoughts of books and Quidditch were pushed from her mind at the moment, though, because Professor McGonagall's lips were as thin and disapproving as Hermione had ever seen them.

"Miss Granger, can you possibly imagine the danger you were in?"

Of course she could imagine. As a girl she had constantly been tormented by her own brilliance. Genius often breeds isolation, and Hermione had consequently lived out some very lonely primary school years, though she had, naturally, been first in everything. Before yesterday, she had been on the verge of repeating the experience all over again. Hogwarts had been her fresh new start. She could make friends, be popular, and simply be… conveniently clever. That would be perfect, she had thought during the train ride. And so she had begun to help search for Neville's toad.

But somewhere she had slipped up. Hermione, like some folks, was driven by a manic desire to please everyone she possibly could. And before she knew it, she was answering every question in class and slipping back toward her old days as Goody-Goody Granger.

But of course that wasn't what Professor McGonagall was talking about.

"Yes, Professor, I know that it was a really foolish thing to do."

Some religions say that God watches over fools and children, thought Hermione. Which one am I?

"Because of the potentially lethal nature of your actions, Miss Granger, I will be writing a letter to your parents, and I will ask you to do the same, explaining yourself."

Hermione blanched. "Professor, no! Please don't make me do that. They were ever so reluctant to let me attend, and they'd come take me away at once if they knew!"

"Miss Granger, I am not in the custom of concealing a student's behavior from their parents if they go astray."

Hermione looked up again, and this time her eyes were full of tears.

"But they'll know I've let them down. I couldn't bear it."

"You've let me down, Miss Granger. How does that make you feel?"

Hermione sniffled a little and her voice cracked. "Awful. Same as if it were Mum and Dad."

"Miss Granger, let me again impress upon you the seriousness of your actions yesterday. Foolishly approaching a fully-grown troll is not a simple matter of house points. Asking me to deliberately conceal the truth from your parents only makes matters worse."

Hermione's gaze fell at this. "I… I guess I'll start packing, then."

Tears began to slowly fall, and she covered her face. "I thought they might become friends," she whispered, almost silently, into her hands.

"What did you say, Miss Granger?" asked McGonagall sharply.

"I said that I would start packing, Professor."

"After that."

Hermione blinked. Had she heard that? "I… I said that I thought we might become friends. Myself, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, that is."

The room was silent for several moments, save the occasional sniffle from Hermione. Against her better judgment, Minerva McGonagall relented.

"Miss Granger, I think we might come to a more suitable solution. What might your parents have done had you endangered your own life, do you guess?"

"Guessing won't be necessary," replied Hermione, looking unhappy at the mere memory of disappointment, "I was six years old and jumped into the pool to save my copy of Wind in the Willows. It was written by a wizard, you know, although of course I didn't – but never mind. My cousin Corina had taken it away and tossed it in. I had never been able to swim, but I wanted to save that book. It really meant something to me. I leapt after it before I could think, and as soon as I touched the pool, the entire thing turned to ice."

"Was it your first display of magic, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded. "Only Mum and my cousin saw it. Mum was furious with both of us, of course. She sent Corina home at once and gave me the most awful lecture. I've never felt more disappointing or embarrassed in my life. Until perhaps now," she added.

"Mum took away my book for a week, although it kept turning up in my room again. I had to keep putting it back in her room every morning. She also emptied the pool for the summer and… well, and spanked me." Hermione blushed a deep red.

"Miss Granger, I will never take a book from a student. But as for a punishment, I think we can reach a compromise. I will give you two options. We will both write the letters as I have previously outlined, or you will be spanked like a six-year-old, forbidden from entering the bathroom on the second floor for the rest of your time at Hogwarts, and I will not write to your parents. I will supervise as you write. Yes, Miss Granger, your parents must still know you have done wrong."

Hermione considered this a moment, and then closed her eyes against the tears. "But how can I possibly do that?"

- - -

Minutes later Hermione found herself upended over Professor McGonagall's lap.

"Miss Granger, this is your last chance to back out."

Hermione plucked up what remained of her courage and shook her head.

She cried out in protest as Professor McGonagall lowered her knickers, but a firm slap to her hindquarters quieted her. She was to be punished like a six-year-old, then. Hermione hung her head, resigned to her fate.

Whack! Well, that stung, but it might not be so bad.

"Miss Granger, you know well by now what you did, and I intend to make sure you never repeat tonight's foolish performance. You will receive fifty swats more, and heaven help me if you try anything else foolish while you are receiving them."

Hermione glanced back in terror, only to witness a sturdy, unyielding hand speeding toward her bum. She let out a tiny scream before it struck, one that turned into a wail of surprise. That had been much harder! Could she really stand another forty-nine?

In everything she did, Professor McGonagall was a study in efficiency. She spanked Hermione's backside in a crisp, even rhythm, pausing every few swats to chastise her young charge.

"Why are you being spanked like a little girl, Miss Granger?"

"Be... because… I wanted to… Ouch! Sh… show off and make friends."

Smack! "And why is that bad?"

"Because I… ooh! Endangered myself." By lying to a teacher, she thought.

Whack! It was fortunate that McGonagall had not chosen to employ Legillimency. Unfortunately for Hermione she DID have a mind for detail.

The girl squealed as another swat found its mark. "And endangered two others, Miss Granger."

The injustice of this burned nearly as bad as her stinging hot bottom, but Hermione was not about to make her own situation any worse. How would she sit through classes tomorrow?

McGonagall stopped spanking for a moment. "Miss Granger, there will be twenty more of the worst I can give you. If you take them without incident, the punishment will be finished and you will write your letter."

The swats were every bit as awful as Professor McGonagall had promised. Hermione cried out after every one and came completely apart after a dozen, doing nothing more than sob uncontrollably across her Transfiguration teacher's lap. All of the resistance had gone out of her as McGonagall rounded off the final twenty.

And like that, it had ended.

With the aid of a quick nonverbal spell, McGonagall picked up the small eleven-year-old without ceremony and held her close, as though she were a very young child. Hermione may have felt even more shame at this, but the love and comfort she felt overpowered it. It was just the sort of thing her mother would have done.

"I'm terribly sorry, Professor," sniffled Hermione into the folds of McGonagall's robes.

"There, there, child. It's all forgiven now."

- - -

Dear Mum and Dad,

Today I made three friends. Two had the courage to help me from a difficult situation, and the third had the courage to be a second mother to me. A bully was making trouble at Hogwarts today, and with the help of the two aforementioned friends, we were able to deliver him to our teachers. I feel sorry for him if Professor McGonagall gets ahold of him, however. She did not approve of our actions.

Surely you both remember my "incident" with Corina when I was six. Mum, you didn't approve of my actions then, either. I related the story to my Professor and she determined that I should be punished in much the same manner. I reluctantly agreed that it's what you would have done. Tonight I was spanked and I am forbidden from entering the second-floor bathroom for the rest of my time at Hogwarts.

Even though I squirm as I sit writing this, I feel cared for. I think I'm going to be just fine here at Hogwarts.

Love from,

Hermione