Miss Granger's Christmas Wish

Chapter 2 ~ Miss Granger's Christmas Wish

Professor Snape looked in the box. Even though it was huge, there were only three small items inside. Two lengths of rope, a paddle, and what appeared to be a blindfold.

"You think these are yours, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, looking at the young witch, who was very, very red.

"Yes, sir," she replied, embarrassed.

Snape studied her, his brow furrowed. If these items were for Miss Granger, why had they been delivered to him in his name?

"Perhaps you'd better explain, Miss Granger, so I can understand why I would get your . . . gifts," he said, looking back inside the box again, then leveling his black eyes at her.

Hermione took a deep breath.

"I think it has to do with my visit to Father Christmas today," she said, "with what I asked him for Christmas--"

Here she paused. Snape got impatient.

"Go on, Miss Granger," he urged. He wanted to get to the bottom of this. "What did you ask for?"

She looked at him, her amber eyes shining.

"Basically, I asked to spend the night with my Potions professor," she said.

Snape thought he was going to pass out. He sort of wavered in place for a few seconds, then made his way over to one of the armchairs and fell into it heavily. Hermione followed him, concern on her young face. She sat in the armchair next to him.

The professor held his face in his hands for a few minutes. Then he lifted his head and peeked between his spread fingers to see if the young woman was still there. She was. Well, there was nothing to do but try to deal with this alarming development. She had made a Christmas wish to spend the night with him. He presumed she didn't mean a sleepover.

"Miss Granger, why in the world would you want to spend the night with me? I'm twice your age, not very handsome, and most of the time, not very nice. I haven't done anything to try and attract you. If anything, I should repel you like I repel everyone," he said to her.

Hermione looked at him and swallowed. He could tell she was gathering up her courage.

"Well, you don't repel me. I am very attracted to you, Professor. Very attracted. That's why I kissed you today and told you how old I was. I was hoping you'd be attracted to me too. I've wanted to kiss you since the end of my sixth year, actually more than kiss you--" she said, her voice faltering.

Snape blinked at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. Did Miss Granger just imply she wanted to fuck him? Thanatos' Black-ribbed Steed. This was insane.

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid I can't--" he began.

"Professor, just hear me out before you say 'No, I can't do it, it wouldn't be right.' Please?" the witch said, a pleading look in her eyes.

The professor sighed as he looked at his student.

"Go ahead, Miss Granger," he said.

"Professor, I think you are the most brilliant man I know. What you know about potions and ingredients would fill volumes. I admire intelligence, Professor. And it is next to impossible to even have an intelligent conversation with any of the wizards my own age. They don't care about the mind. All they care about is the body.

"Now they pursue me, but when I was in the lower grades and hadn't filled out, was buck-toothed and bushy-haired, none of them paid any attention to me. Most of the time they were mean to me . . . teased me about being a bookworm and studying all the time. Some even thought I'd be an easy mark because I was so unattractive and tried to put the moves on me because they figured I was desperate for attention. Now those same wizards want to court me. I may have changed outside, but I am still the same person inside. The way they treated me taught me that looks aren't important. It's character and what's on the inside that are important."

She looked at him consideringly for a moment, then continued.

"You aren't handsome, Professor. But you aren't ugly either. You have the most amazing eyes and lashes. Your nose is big, but you would look strange without it. It suits your face, gives it character. My father has a big nose too," she said, smiling at him.

The Potions master continued to look at her, expressionless.

"Your mouth is nice. It's soft too," she said softly.

The professor felt a tightening in his loin area.

Hermione reached out and hesitatingly took one of his large pale hands in hers, turning it palm up.

"You have the most beautiful hands I've ever seen on a man," she breathed, tracing his palm with her finger, running it over the calluses and small shiny burns on his fingertips. "When you use them to make potions, they are so precise, so assured and confident. I love to watch you prepare ingredients. It's like your hands would never make a mistake--"

Hermione had no idea what her touch was doing to the Potions master. He gently pulled his hand away.

"And your voice. It's so rich, soft and silky, but holds so much command." She sighed, sounding rather dreamy. "It has so much . . . promise."

She shifted in the armchair.

"Then, there is the way you carry yourself. You are so imposing, commanding . . . dominating, no matter where you are." She sighed, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, which sharpened a bit. "And you have a strong body. I felt it today when I kissed you. I hug Harry and Ron all the time, so I can tell you work out. You hide it under your robes."

Snape self-consciously smoothed the fabric of his nightshirt. The seventh-year continued.

"Professor, I am eighteen now, considered old enough to know what I want and make my own decisions. Wizards who don't hold any interest for me are pursuing me. The only thing we have in common is age. But I'm having sexual urges, dreams . . . even fantasies. So intense they wake me up at night . . . and I have to do things to try to relieve myself, and it doesn't work so well. I'm ready to have sex, Professor, but I don't want it to be with some young, fumbling, half-brained wizard whom I have nothing in common with other than age and who'll spread it all over Hogwarts no matter how bad it was. I want my first time to be with someone mature and experienced, who can teach me, show me what it's really about. Someone I respect and admire."

Now it was the professor's turn to shift in his chair. She was getting to the Knuts and Sickles of it now. Hermione went on.

"I know the work you do for the Order, Professor, and what you sacrifice to serve. You are helping the entire wizarding world without receiving a bit of thanks, or even appreciation. You are tortured, beaten, and then come crawling back here, sometimes held together by little more than your skin. I've seen it myself, Professor. I've been in the infirmary while you recovered from the Cruciatus curse. I couldn't understand at first why you'd go back when you knew how much you'd suffer. I could only come up with one answer. It's because you care about the welfare of everyone in the wizarding world. You want to try and save it from Voldemort's evil, and you are willing to give your life to do that. You are a courageous and noble man, Professor. If no one else sees that, I do."

The professor felt a tightening in his chest. No one had ever expressed appreciation for what he went through, except Albus. He felt exceedingly grateful toward the witch.

"I could do much worse than having my virginity taken by you, Professor. I admire you, I respect you, I am attracted to you on several different levels, and the idea of giving you pleasure in the process appeals to me. I don't think you have much pleasure in your life, and you deserve to have some. To be the source of that pleasure would be wonderful. And the best part about it is, if you were to agree to do this, I'd have no shame about it and no regrets, Professor. No guilt."

Snape looked at the witch's sincere expression. She was blushing furiously, but she managed to state her case clearly and compellingly. Although she would feel no guilt, what about him? She was so young, barely an adult. To take what she was offering would be taking unfair advantage of her youthful emotions and obvious infatuation with him.

Hermione looked back at him, exhibiting that inscrutable gift that all women seemed to possess in varying degrees, the power of reading men's minds.

"You wouldn't be taking advantage of me, Professor. If anything, I am trying to take advantage of you. I know you must get lonely for female companionship sometimes, and I have never seen you with a woman. So I must be very tempting to you, especially since I'm not wearing any knickers. I think Father Christmas did that on purpose to help me convince you to do this."

Snape swallowed reflexively at the reminder she had no knickers on. The witch continued speaking.

"I've thought about this for almost a year, Professor. It's really what I want, and you're the only one who can give it to me. I know love isn't involved in this, but it doesn't have to be. I won't even be looking for love until after I've accomplished my educational goal of becoming a Spells Mistress. That will be years from now. I'm not naïve enough to think I won't be sexually active, however. I'm not going to live like a candidate for sainthood. I just want my first time to be with someone who matters. You are that someone, Professor."

She certainly was compelling.

"What about those 'gifts'?" the professor asked her.

Hermione blushed.

"Well, the other part of my present was to have a fantasy fulfilled. It is a rather naughty, kind of twisted one. I don't know why it turns me on so much. It seems like it shouldn't, but it does. Maybe something's wrong with me. I don't know," she said softly, reddening again.

A fantasy?

"Tell me about it," the professor said, his voice dropping low.

He was very tempted to give Miss Granger her Christmas wish.

"Well, I know I've annoyed you a lot over the past few years," she began.

"Yes, you have," the professor agreed. "Go on."

"And I thought it would be, well not thought . . . it just came in a dream . . . You punished me for all those times I aggravated you . . . by tying me up and spanking me. And then, after you spanked me, you . . . you--".

"Took your virginity?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she replied, squirming in the armchair a little.

The professor realized that she was probably juicing up the seat cushion of his chair since she had no knickers on. The thought made his cock swell. His nightshirt began to tent, and Miss Granger was looking right at him.

The professor felt his balls tightening and stood up quickly.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger . . . I have to . . . er, go to the loo," he announced, leaving the study and a rather startled Hermione quickly behind.

He practically ran into the loo. The wizard closed the door, lifted his nightshirt, closed his eyes, and grasped the head of his cock hard, counting down, willing himself not to ejaculate. After a few minutes, his balls relaxed, though his cock remained at half-mast.

Dear Merlin.

The professor walked up to the mirror and stared at his reflection. He did look a little like a black-haired Scrooge with his nightcap. He pursed his lips. Miss Granger apparently had liked them pressed against her own. He looked at his eyes. Yes, they were rather intense. He tilted his head several different ways, looking at his nose. It was still very large at every angle. Yet she liked it. Her father had a big nose. He held up his hands and studied them, turning them this way and that. They just looked like ordinary hands to him. It must be a woman thing.

He continued to stare at himself, then realized he was hiding. He was a grown wizard. He shouldn't be hiding from an eighteen-year-old witch.

But he was.

The professor took a deep breath.

What an arousing fantasy she had in mind. There had been many times in class that he actually had wanted to take her over his knee and spank her, with no sexual overtones, however. She had just aggravated him to that point. But now, the idea of spanking that pert little bottom and then . . .

He'd be a fool to pass this up. What was the likelihood of this ever happening to him again? A beautiful and brilliant young witch practically begging him to spank then fuck her? Never. This would never happen again.

Snape began to wonder if there might be more to "Father Christmas" than he thought as he exited the bathroom.

* * *

Snape returned to the study and froze instantly at the sight that met him. The seventh-year witch had her back to him and was bent over the box again. But this time she was reaching for the items at the bottom of the huge container, so she was not slightly bent, but leaning completely over, her legs spread, ass in the air, and giving a very clear view of her tight little twat. Once again, the professor threatened to swoon. But if he fell forward, his cock would probably save him from hitting the floor face first.

Hermione continued to rummage through the box, her ass swinging about freely, unaware that her Potions professor might be heading for an early grave. He just wasn't used to the sight of fresh young pussy, especially swinging freely about in his study. Finally, Hermione managed to gather the items at the bottom of the box together and stood up. She turned around to see a stricken Potion master standing stiffly before his bedroom door, his black eyes glazed and staring.

"Professor! Are you all right?" Hermione cried, running over to him and peering into his face.

For a moment she was afraid he'd had a stroke or something. Then he drew in a ragged breath and started breathing again. Hermione almost slumped with relief. The paddle slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor, sliding a bit so it was behind the witch. She turned around to pick it up.

"DON'T PICK THAT UP!" the professor bellowed at her, an insane look in his eyes.

Hermione froze like a deer in headlights, her eyes wide and slightly afraid. Professor Snape looked at the frightened witch and felt horrible. He hadn't meant to scare her; he just couldn't take another flash of her delicious, delicate parts.

"Miss Granger, if you bend over like that again, my heart won't be able to take it," he said a bit more quietly.

"Drat! I keep forgetting," Hermione said.

There was something in her eyes that suggested that might not be completely true. But the professor was too busy recovering to notice. He walked over to the fallen paddle, picked it up, and turned it over in his hands. He looked at Hermione.

"And this is for what? A game?" he asked her.

Hermione gave him a small, tremulous smile.

"No. Actually, that's what you used to spank me with in my dream," she replied.

Snape almost dropped the paddle. It bounced around in his hands comically before he caught it and gingerly handed it back to her.

He cleared his throat.

"I see," he said hoarsely.

Hermione nodded toward the ropes in her hand.

"And these are the ropes you tied me up with. My wrists and ankles. I don't know what the blindfold is for. There wasn't a blindfold in my dream," she said, looking puzzled.

Snape thought it might be to give her the option of covering her eyes if he took her up on her offer. She had no idea how arousing she was in that obscenely short elf getup, no knickers, and holding items meant to put her at his mercy.

Hermione looked up at him hopefully.

"So, are you going to give me my Christmas wish, Professor?" she asked him, her innocent amber eyes meeting his. She was such a small witch. She couldn't be taller than five-three. A very well-proportioned five-three.

"Miss Granger, let's sit down again and discuss this a little further. I want you to understand exactly what it is you're asking of me," the professor said, gesturing toward the armchairs again.

Hermione walked before him toward the chairs. He tried to keep his eyes above waist level but failed miserably. He felt like a dirty old man. She took a seat; then he joined her.

"Miss Granger," he said, trying to be delicate. "I am a full grown wizard. There are distinct differences between myself and a wizard of your own age. Physical differences. Differences that might make your experience with me . . . more painful than you'd like."

Hermione blinked at him.

"I don't think you'd hurt me on purpose, Professor," she said.

"No. No I wouldn't, Miss Granger . . . but it would still hurt. Losing your virginity hurts," he said, unable to believe he was talking to the witch about this.

Hermione thought about this.

"Well, maybe that's why you spank me first," she said consideringly. "If my ass is sore, then maybe losing my cherry won't seem as painful."

Cherry? Good gods. But she had a point. It would still hurt, but would probably hurt less than a thorough spanking would. The professor frowned a moment.

"Miss Granger, exactly how hard did I spank you in your dream?" he asked.

"Pretty hard. Both my cheeks were bright red," she said.

Merlin.

The Potions master frowned at her.

"And you think you'd like that? Being spanked until your buttocks are bright red?" he asked her. That sounded very painful. Then to get fucked afterwards? Ouch.

Her eyes glowed a bit. The hunger in them was startling. It certainly wasn't a virginal look by any means.

"Yes. I think I would like it very much, Professor."

Well, she wanted him to spank her. His black eyes swept over her again, appraisingly this time. She was lovely. He wasn't sure that he would be able to perform if his reaction to just looking at her pussy was any indication. Premature ejaculation was a very real possibility. He steeled himself. He had to let her know this could be a problem. He cleared his throat a bit, then spoke.

"Miss Granger. It has been almost four years since I've had the pleasure of being with a woman. You are quite desirable. My reactions to you are . . . very strong--" he began.

"That's a good thing, right?" she said eagerly. Ah, the exuberance of youth.

"In most cases, yes. In this case, no. I fear, Miss Granger, I might finish before I start," he admitted. "You are simply too alluring, and I am simply too starved."

Hermione looked confused by this . . . then realization dawned on her face.

"Oh, you're afraid you might come before you get inside me," she said, her brow furrowed.

The professor winced. The blatant truth of her statement sort of stung his ego. Every male wants a woman to be impressed with his staying power. It had just been so long for him.

"Yes," he said shortly, scowling a bit.

Hermione didn't look the least bit disturbed about this possibility. She leaned forward in the armchair, her eyes bright. He knew that look. It was her "I know the solution" look.

"Well, that's easy enough to take care of, Professor. Just drink a stamina potion with a small drop of lust potion. You'll be fine," she said, smiling at him as if all were right with the world. As he thought about it, perhaps it was. That was the perfect solution. The witch was almost too smart for her own good. But there was one problem.

"My potions are in the storeroom in my classroom. I can't get out of here to get at them," the professor said. Hermione's face fell.

Suddenly, the wall leading out of the study slid up invitingly. Both Snape and Hermione rose in their chairs and turned around, looking over the backs of them at the open wall. Then they looked at each other.

"This is strange," Hermione said, turning back to look at the open wall.

Snape, however, kept his eyes on the witch.

"Yes," he breathed, "quite strange indeed, Miss Granger."

Hermione turned to look at the professor, the poofball of her elf hat flopping into her face. She flipped it back and met his eyes. They seemed much blacker than usual, if that were possible.

"So, Professor, have you decided to be my Christmas gift? It seems like someone other than me thinks you should," she said.

Snape gave her a rather melancholy smirk.

"Miss Granger, with that wall open, you have an opportunity to leave here and forget about all this. You can return to Gryffindor Tower, safe and untouched by your snarky, old man of a Potions master," he said softly.

Hermione frowned indignantly.

"You are not old! You're only thirty-six. In wizarding years you've barely reached your prime! You won't even be middle-aged until you're eighty. You're not an old man, Professor. You're not even near it. You've just been through so much and seen so much you feel aged. And I don't want to return to Gryffindor Tower now. I want to be touched and more than touched before I leave here. The only way I'll go out that door is if you physically throw me out. And then I'll spend the rest of the year making you feel guilty about throwing me out in this getup without any knickers!" she spat, her amber eyes flashing at him angrily.

The Potions master actually grinned. Hermione was taken aback. It was the closest thing to a smile on the wizard that she had ever seen. He looked years younger. And more handsome too.

"Calm down, Miss Granger. I have no intentions of flinging you into the corridors of Hogwarts dressed like that. I just wanted to give you the opportunity to rethink your position. It is a great gift you're offering me, one that can't be taken back once given. I just want you to be sure that you truly want this. Want me," he said, his eyes sober.

"I do want you," she said softly, meeting his eyes.

He felt a powerful throb at the look in her eyes. He couldn't remember the last time a woman wanted him. It was a heady feeling. His cock throbbed in agreement.

The Potions master rose from the armchair.

"Very well, Miss Granger. If I am what you want for Christmas, then you shall have your gift," he said. The seventh-year grinned from ear to ear with excitement.

"Thank you, Professor!" she said, leaping off the armchair and sailing into his arms, planting another unskilled but definitely enthusiastic kiss on his lips.

This time he kissed her back, and she gave a little moan of surprise and then of pleasure as he captured her lips gently between his and suckled them before moving his mouth against hers sensually. His hands slipped down her back, unaware her shirt had ridden quite high and her ass and lower back were exposed. He gasped when his hands came into contact with the soft skin of her lower back. It felt like heated satin.

Hermione gasped too and moved against him encouragingly. The professor let his hands slide lower, slowly, reverently, appreciating the feel of a willing woman under his palms. He came to the swell of her buttocks and hesitated. Then he swept his hands over her full globes, gripping them lightly and pulling her against him. For the first time in her life, Hermione felt a man's erection throbbing against her. A pool of heat hit her lower belly, and she gasped, shuddering and pulling back from his kiss.

"Professor . . . something's happening. I feel . . . my belly feels--" she whispered, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.

"Warm? Tingly? Right here?" Snape asked her softly, sliding his hand just beneath her navel.

"Yes," she breathed. "It's warm and tingly, but it's also almost like feeling hungry, but in the wrong place."

"That's desire, Miss Granger. Believe me, it's in the right place," he replied, kissing her again.

* * *

The professor left a thoroughly kissed and rather hot-eyed Miss Granger in his study, feeling rather proud of his ability to make the young witch respond to him in such a physical manner. He would enjoy deflowering her, but felt a sense of disquiet over how she wanted him to do it. The Potions master wasn't a romantic by any means, but he felt the deflowerment of a lovely young woman such as Miss Granger shouldn't happen with her tied up and bent over a desk. There was something innately wrong with that picture.

As he walked into his Potions office, he decided to test the door leading into the corridor. As he suspected, it would not open. So he was being allowed to retrieve the potions he needed to provide the witch with a pleasurable experience, but neither of them was allowed to leave his rooms, presumably until the deflowerment was completed. He was fine with that. Now that he had moved past his reservations, with the help of Miss Granger's sincere declarations of desire and respect for him, he wanted to fuck the witch badly. His entire body was tense and aching for contact with her, although he realized just touching her intimately would probably make him explode. Of course, usually after the first ejaculation, a man's staying power increased, but he didn't want to make her wait while he recovered. He would take the potions and insure he would be able to give her what she needed when she needed it.

He walked into the Potions classroom and headed for his stores. He unwarded the door wandlessly and ignited the torches. He peered at the shelves, looking for the stamina potion. He found it and checked the expiration date. Yes, it was still at top potency. He opened the bottle and drank deeply. He immediately felt the strengthening power of the brew and smirked. He closed the bottle and set it back on the shelf. He then said an incantation, and a shelf appeared high on the right side of the storeroom. It held his more volatile potions. He pulled the stepladder from the corner and mounted it. His black eyes scanned the bottles and vials until he located a powerful lust potion made exclusively for males. This potion was very dangerous if taken wrongly. The user could injure either his partner or himself. There had been instances of men fisting the skin off their penises when unable to find a mate. Also, reports of sexual assaults abounded. He would have to be very careful. A drop was enough to make a man randy for hours.

The professor opened a small tin, took out a tiny sheet of blotter parchment and set it down on the shelf. He then opened the bottle of lust potion, being careful not to let the liquid touch his skin. It would have the same effect as if he had taken it by mouth. The potion had a dropper. He carefully squeezed out the contents, then merely dipped the dropper into the potion. He held it steady until all excess liquid dripped clear, then carefully smeared a tiny, tiny glistening line onto the blotter paper. He replaced the dropper, tightened the cap and put the potion back on the shelf. He said another incantation and the shelf disappeared.

The Potions master placed the blotter parchment on his tongue and let it rest there for a minute or so. He felt a very small tingle race up his cock. The lust potion had taken hold. He had only taken enough to keep from coming too soon, not to maintain his erection. He was going to have no problem with that. He removed the blotter paper from his mouth and ignited it to make sure the residue was disposed of properly.

The professor stepped down off the stepladder, folded it, and set it back in the corner. He extinguished the torches and rewarded the doors. He walked swiftly through the Potions classroom, his office, and back into the study to the waiting witch. The wall slid closed behind him. He turned to look at it, then shrugged. He already knew that whatever power was at work here was determined that the Potions master give his student what she craved. But no more determined than he was. When he entered the room, Hermione had risen from the armchair and walked around to him. Her amber eyes were still hot, and she moved as if to embrace him again. The professor held her back. He had decided if she wanted her fantasy, he would do it right. And that required them to ease away from the kissing and caressing and into other more suitable roles.

"Miss Granger, if you would have me fulfill your fantasy of being spanked, then we have to refrain from the . . . foreplay we've been indulging in. We have to get into our roles. I think it best--" he began.

The wall suddenly slid open again. The professor looked at the open exit, then back at Hermione, his eyes glittering.

"I think it best," he continued, "to proceed to the Potions classroom. Since your dream has me punishing you for annoying me, it makes sense to be in the proper surroundings where your previous offenses have taken place so I can get into character."

Hermione felt a bit of wetness pulse out of her. Snape was close enough to see the slight reaction. What was more, he could detect the scent of arousal coming from the young witch. He breathed deeply. It had been a long time since he had smelled that sweet aroma. Even longer since he had tasted it. He walked to the small table and picked up the ropes and paddle. He left the blindfold. He returned to Hermione and offered her his arm.

"Come, Miss Granger," he said silkily.

The witch snaked her arm through his.

Together they exited the study, walked through his office and into the Potions classroom. Snape seated her at her usual place, then walked around his desk and placed the ropes and paddle in the top drawer. He then walked back around and leaned against his desk, his arms folded, looking down at Hermione, his dark eyes intense.

"Now, Miss Granger, here is the scenario. I will be attempting to give a lecture, and you will keep interrupting me until the point I become enraged and fulfill your fantasy. Now, I have heard in instances like these, when violence is employed as part of a sexual fantasy, a safe word is used to stop the fantasy if the pain becomes too intense. I think we need to employ the same approach. We will select a safe word to stop the fantasy. You say the safe word, and I will stop whatever it is I am doing to you. Understand?"

Hermione nodded.

"What word?" Hermione asked.

"Something you wouldn't usually say in a situation such as this. For example, 'stop' would not be a good word because you might want to use it during the fantasy to protest my spanking you, but really want me to continue," he said.

"Okay," said Hermione. "Heffalump. Heffalump will be the safe word."

"What on earth is a Heffalump?" Snape asked her, cocking his head.

"Well, it's something like an elephant . . . a fantasy creature from a children's book. I've always liked the word."

"An elephant?" the professor said.

"Never mind, Professor. That's the word though," she said.

"Heffalump," the professor repeated, cementing the odd word in his mind.

He looked at the witch in front of him. He could see the excitement in her eyes and felt a little jolt of it himself. Her enthusiasm was contagious. He had initially had his reservations about spanking her, but now it seemed it would be rather . . . dare he think it . . . fun. He hadn't had fun in a long time. Well, it was time now.

"Are you ready, Miss Granger?" he asked in a stern voice.

"Yes, sir," she responded, excitement making her voice quaver.

It was time to role-play.

* * *