"Ms. Sarah, remain behind after class is over."
She had not even noticed that he was standing in front of her, but the thud of his open palm hitting the table and his command brought her back to the present, and she looked up to his face and away in the same breath. His face then, and for the rest of the class remained impassive.
She could not imagine what it was that he wanted to speak to her about. She had not done badly in that class, or the previous one. Indeed it seemed as though she had made some small progress. What could he want of her?
Unless it was the quiz. The quiz! She screamed on the inside. The class had taken a quiz at the end of the previous week and she believed herself to have done middling on it. Passing it was assured, but she would not kid herself to think she did nothing than barely pass it.
The quiz! The quiz! alarmed in her head.
And she found herself standing before him as he told her exactly what she had dreaded was coming: she had not passed the quiz, she failed the quiz. Out of twenty possible questions she had five correct.
"You performed poorly on this quiz. These answers, all of the written responses rambled aimlessly, some not even within the same field as the other answers.
"And I state again: you are supposed to be one of Hogwart's top students, and this is the kind of quiz you turn in? I find it humorous that this is what you can produce. That Hugo Proudfellow from Hufflepuff, he has cobwebs between his ears and he still better than you did. Not by much.
"Out of concern for such a bright student, I spoke with several other of your professors. They all could agree that you are an exceptionally bright and intelligent student. Had you chosen to, you could have been prefect and even Head Girl. They then tempered their praise. All have noticed a decline in your work, your classroom habits, your general malaise. While you may not being doing as badly as in my class you are still doing what they deem to be substandard work, coming from you that is.
"McGonagall has said you're doing poorly in her class. She's alarmed. Sprout, Flitwick, Trelawny. All of them. Snape, he doesn't like anyone who is not a Slytherin, and he has nothing but contempt. He takes pleasure out of the fact that you are doing badly."
She stood in front of him, hearing and not reacting. She was shaking slightly. That her mind seemed in a shocked state restricted most of the information from reaching her brain and inducing action.
"What is it that's keeping you from passing these classes?"
The question was rhetorical. He knew what the reason was even though she would say anything but the truth.
He was not immune to the fact that she looked at him differently than other pupils. Her sidelong glances at him, and the way she would smile and her tongue would poke out from between her teeth were not lost on him. When their eyes would meet, she would hold her gaze for the briefest of moments and then look demurely to the side.
Not wearing panties started as a thrill – she enjoyed not wearing them and thinking how no one else was in on the secret. It made it easier for her hand, lying between her legs on the seat, to tease her opening and her clit. When she happened to bend over one day, and notice that her cunt was exposed, an idea popped into her head.
One day she happened to drop her quill as she was packing up at the end of class. Rather than hunkering down she bent at the waist. Her skirt rose up the backs of her thighs and her partly separated legs exposed her plump and freshly shaven cunt to him. She seemed not care – or completely unaware that she was exposing herself. Knowing of the attention that she was paying him, he knew that this was all a show only for him. She was exciting herself with the thrill of showing him her most secret of places, and baiting him into action.
She did not find her quill as easily as most students would. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and back again. The flexing of her stance rounded her buttocks and made them firmer, but each movement caused a ripple throughout her buttocks that made them jiggle. His mind leapt upon what he saw, and that rippled effect brought to him her, bent over as she took her roughly from behind, swatting her ass and watching each inflamed cheek jiggle against his stomach.
She straightened as slowly as she lowered, offering him enough time to redirect his attention to the papers on his desk. She knew he had been watching, and he knew she did. He packed his briefcase, waited for her to leave, this offering him another opportunity to watch her butt switch back and forth as she walked from the classroom.