This is the second chapter. Yay! There's not much to say after that, besides I hope everyone enjoys it. The next chapter will possibly have lemons. I can't promise they'll be good lemons, I'm still new to writing those. Also, I do not own anything Harry Potter and I am not making money off of this story.
Hermione stared up at Professor Snape with eyes as wide as saucers. Dear Goddess, she was caught. She tried to save herself, saying "No, sir. I-I was just...", but she trailed off, realizing she had no other pretense to be out wandering the castle, under an Invisibility cloak no less.
Snape sneered at her, which sent her heart into double time. "You were just." He mimicked her high tone cruelly. "I know what you were doing, Miss Granger. I've been on to you for weeks, silly chit." Reaching down, he caught her arm in a harsh grip and pulled her onto her feet. His face was close to hers, and she saw his impressive nostrils flare in anger.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice? What is it, exactly, that you think I've been doing all these years as a spy for Dumbledore?" He asked sarcastically. Snape knew Hermione and her two idiot friends were aware of his situation. They'd poked their noses in his business, pushed for answers. Well they'd gotten their answers. Severus Snape was under Dumbledore's thumb. He was Dumbledore's lapdog, for lack of a better word. And he loathed it.
He had originally felt extreme guilt for Lily Evans', Lily Potters', death, which was why he had gone to Dumbledore for help. But with time, and help from the darkness that unequivocally had encroached upon his soul during his time as a death eater, he had stopped feeling guilty. Indeed, he had started feeling righteous. They deserved it, he rationalized. They, for embarrassing him, making his life a living hell, deserved what they got. The darkness that swirled like a chain around his heart only got tighter with each year that passed with him being Voldemort's right hand man.
Dumbledore had known, and even allowed the darkness to continue. He knew that Snape would take his anger, and his darkness, and put it to the cause of killing the Dark Lord. His plan had worked, Voldemort was dead, but Snape was still angry. He took his anger out on the students after the war had ended, and on the prostitutes in Diagon Alley. And now, he would take his anger out on Hermione Granger.
Hermione stared at Snape as his eyes narrowed at her lack of response. He shook her by the arms. "Well? What is it you think I did for Dumbledore, or even Voldemort?"
She gathered her famous Gryffindor courage and looked him in the eyes. "You honed your skills as a Master spy, sir." She knew that was what he wanted to hear. "Exactly. And did you think I wouldn't notice when some stupid swot started following me on my rounds, lusting after me, stalking me?" He waited for an answer.
"No, sir. I didn't think you would notice." She felt defeated, humiliated. Her face was one entire blush. What had she been thinking? He was the best at what he did, he had to be to survive. She'd been too smug about her intelligence, too damn stupid. Snape smirked at her face. "Having a bit of hindsight are we, Granger? Too late for that. What do you think we should do with you, eh? Stalking is a pretty high offense, especially stalking a teacher." She was silent, wallowing in her own self pity.
Snape thought for a moment and smiled, a perfectly evil smile. "Come with me." He said, though he didn't give her a choice. Instead he dragged her by the arm, leading her through the castle hallways and down into the dungeons, toward his rooms.
"What are we doing?" Hermione huffed out, trying to keep up with Professor Snape's long legged strides. "You will soon find out. Now keep your trap shut." He snapped. They reached his room and he waved his wand at the entrance, disengaging the wards. When the door opened he pushed her in and followed behind her, reengaging the wards when he was safely inside.
Hermione stood in the middle of Snape's rooms for the first time and looked around in wonder. The entire room smelled of him, looked of him, was him. She took in everything, the fireplace she had watched him pace in front of on the Marauder's map, the desk he often sat at to grade papers. She got wet just being in a room that belonged to him. Forcibly, she stopped herself from letting lose a moan from the intense feelings she was getting from being there. Dear Lord, she was pathetic.
Snape saw the look on Hermione's face and scowled. "Getting off on just being in my rooms, eh? My how the mighty have fallen. Know-it-all little Gryffindor princess lusting after the greasy dungeon bat. Who would have guessed?" While talking he moved to the bottle of firewhiskey on his desk and poured himself a shot. He downed it easily.
Snapping out of the sexual fog she was working herself into, Hermione frowned at Snape. Why had he brought her here and not to Filch or the Headmaster for punishment?
He answered her question right after she thought it. "I imagine you are wondering why you are in my rooms? That is, unless you are too busy coming on my rug to care."
Hermione blushed scarlet again and stuttered "Why am I-I here, sir?" "You are here for your punishment. Tell me, Miss Granger. Are you a virgin?"
A/N: Okay, so. Sorry this chapter is a little short, but the next one will be longer and will probably contain lemons. I almost laughed when typing the whole "coming on my rug" part. Review PLEASE. thank you.
