Against The Wall

Hermione knew the deserted short cut to the Divination classroom well. She hurried down the dingy abandoned corridor; cobwebs fluttered over her head, the rough stone walls seemed almost to close in on her, not that she minded. Seclusion always suited her; she knew no-one would be around. It was a long-forgotten and rather forbidding part of the castle, avoided by nearly everyone.

Everyone apart from Severus Snape, apparently.

Turning a dim corner, Hermione bumped with a surprised gasp into the tall dark form of the Potions Master coming the other way.

"Sorry, sir."

"Miss Granger, where do you think you are going in such an ungodly hurry?"

"I need to get to Divination."

"Late?"

"Not quite."

He stood in her path, preventing her from going further. Hermione cleared her throat. In the still, age-old air of the corridor the tension between her and Snape grew quickly. Her belly coiled as her eyes met the deep black of her professor's. For a time neither spoke, simply stared at each other, not with animosity but curiosity, appraisal even. She did not shy away from it and knew instead that she was rather enjoying it.

His eyes flicked to the gap at the meeting of her collar bones.

"Your top button is undone."

"Sorry, sir." She started to do it up, taking a step backwards and coming against the cold stone of the wall.

"I didn't tell you to touch it."

Snape stepped into her. Her breath quickened but she did not move away from him. Hermione watched mesmerised as her professor raised his hand slowly and brought two fingers to rest on the flesh exposed by the undone button. The tips of his fingers were warm and confident. She urged them to seek out more of her.

He did.

The hand at her neck now curled around the back of it while his thumb stroked languorously up and down from the dip he had enticed along the length of her throat. She bared it for him, her eyes glazing with immediate desire. His other hand was down, lifting her skirt and seeking up her inner thighs. Her legs fell apart instinctively.

"Professor ..." She moaned, half in query, half in invitation as he searched up to the dampening heat still concealed from him by her tights. He was rubbing against her now, finding her hot and needy despite the layers of clothing between them.

"Just as I expected," he declared.

"Don't stop."

His fingers had quickly reached up to the waist band of her tights and were pushing down into her knickers, the long digits searching through her trimmed hairs.

She bit her lip, catching her breath, unable to look anywhere but into his eyes.

His middle finger, strong and assured, found a certain path down and stroked over her clit as it travelled. She gasped in and her eyes fluttered shut. But his finger continued its progress, sliding and slipping through the pooling wetness of her desire until it found its opening and curled up into her. Snape allowed his own slight breath to escape.

"Tight. Wet. Hot. What a ready cunt you have."

She nodded, unable to form words.

Now he had added his forefinger to his exploration of her intimacy. He pushed both fingers into her right up to the third knuckle, circling them as if trying to ingrain her onto him then pulling out a little to allow the underside to graze her clit again. Her face creased in pleasure.