Through the Looking Glass ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 14 ~ Two Disturbing Encounters

By the time Hermione left professor Snape’s office, she’d racked up a respectable sixty-seven points, gaining a little extra for light petting. The witch nearly floated back to Slytherin, her attitude about extra credit forever changed . . . at least concerning professor Snape. Flitwick, Minerva and the rest of them could forget it. There was no way she’d be racking up any points with any of them.

As she walked down the marble stairs, she saw this universe’s version of Luna Lovegood walking toward her. She was wearing a Hufflepuff tie, but looked as dreamy-eyed as she did in the other world. Luna stopped by the stairs when she saw Hermione coming down.

”Hi Luna,” she said to the witch when she made it to the main floor.

Instead of answering her, Luna walked up to her and kissed her on the mouth before attempting to slip her tongue into it.

Shocked and spluttering, Hermione jerked back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

”Luna! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hermione yelled at her, outraged and seriously squicked.

Luna gave her a small smile.

“I know I didn’t ask your permission, Hermione, but it’s been so long since I’ve kissed you, I didn’t think you’d mind if I broke the rules just this once. You can spank me if you want,” she said softly, trailing a finger down Hermione’s arm.

”What? Spank you? Luna, are you insane?” she gasped.

”If by insane, you mean crazy for you, Hermione, you know I am,” she replied. “When are you going to see me again? I know it’s supposed to be a secret, but . . . I can’t help thinking about you.”

Luna was a Pureblood that the alternate Hermione had a secret weakness for. She found the blonde witch fascinating in a strange kind of way, and she was properly submissive and liked to be dominated. Right up Miss Granger’s alley.

Hermione quickly discerned her counterpart’s tastes obviously applied to more than teachers and Ron and Harry. Luna looked completely smitten as she stared at her.

”Um, Luna . . . I’m not who you think I am,” Hermione said to her gently, removing her roaming fingertips from her arm.

”That’s what I like about you,” Luna breathed with a slight, sad smile.

”No. I mean I’m really not. There was an . . . an accident with the mirror of Noisreva . . .”

Hermione tried to explain what happened to Luna, who stared at her blankly for several moments after she finished.

”No, you’re not her. She wouldn’t have taken the time to try to explain anything to me,” the witch said. “Will she be back soon?”

”I hope so,” Hermione said.

Luna studied her.

”You’re not even a Slytherin,” she said.

”No, I’m not,” Hermione admitted. “But I have to get to Slytherin house.”

Hermione started to walk down the stairs leading to the dungeon area when she was blasted in the back with a stunner and knocked unconscious, tumbling down the short flight of stairs and landing on the hard stone floor. Luna walked to the head of the stairway and looked down at her, completely unaffected by her state.

”Counterpart or not, you shouldn’t fool people into kissing you,” she said softly, then headed back down the other flight of stairs that led to Hufflepuff house.

Hermione lay at the bottom of the stairs undiscovered for about forty-five minutes before she was found by Filch.

The wizard couldn’t believe his luck.

”Hmmm. Out after curfew,” he said, rolling her over and noting the bruise on her temple. He considered taking her to Poppy, but decided to fix her bruise and take her to the torture room instead. Why should the medi-witch have all the enjoyment. He picked Hermione up and slung her over his humped shoulder. Filch was old, but he was strong as a troll.

”This won’t take too long, Missy. For all I know you were on your way to Slytherin before curfew and got hexed. But, that’s no excuse. You should have been vigilant. A few stripes on your round little bum ought to make you pay better attention,” he breathed, hobbling away with her.

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Draco, who was the prefect for Gryffindor house, mounted the shifting stairwells and made his way down to the main hall. He preferred to start at the bottom and get patrolling the dungeons out of the way. That’s usually where the Slytherins tried to ambush him, preferring to stay close to their house for faster getaways. They were always disillusioned, so he couldn’t write them up unless he managed to hex a couple first. After that, patrolling the rest of the castle was a breeze.

As he rode the stairwell, he looked down to see Filch carrying someone on his shoulder. He’d caught another one. Somebody’s ass was going to be sore tomorrow. Curiously, Draco craned his head just as Filch turned to descend the stairwell Luna had walked down earlier. His torture room was located on that side of the dungeon area, near the kitchens under the Great Hall. Draco’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he saw Hermione’s profile. She was unconscious.

”Shit!” Draco breathed, now rushing down the stairwell and jumping on to the next set of shifting stairs, trying to get to the first floor and Snape’s office. He wouldn’t be able to stop Filch himself because he was a staff member.

He impatiently waited for the next set of stairs to shift. They seemed to take forever, while Filch never did. He’d have Hermione manacled to the wall, robes pinned up and knickers down in no time.

Finally he made it to the second floor, ran down the corridor, down the narrow set of stairs that led to the first floor and tore toward Snape’s office, hoping the wizard wasn’t engaged with a student.

Hermione Granger was in trouble.

Big trouble.

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Filch placed the unconscious Hermione in a chair for a moment to catch his breath. They were in a big circular room. Several sets of manacles were attached to the wall. A table was next to the chair, an on it rested several canes of differing sizes, ranging from thin to thick. After a moment or two, he wrestled Hermione out of the chair, and half dragged her to the wall, lifting first one arm, then the other, fastening her into the manacles. He pulled out his wand.

”Ennervate,” he hissed.

Hermione awoke, groggily at first, her face resting against cold stone.

”What . . .what happened?” she groaned.

”You were out after curfew, Miss Granger. That’s a mandatory caning,” Filch replied with a snaggle-toothed grin.

”What?” Hermione cried, realizing she was manacled facing the wall. She jerked at her restraints, but they were secure. “Let me go!”

”Ah! A protestor! I like that, I do,” Filch grinned as Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes falling on the table of canes. “Protesters usually make a lot of noise when they get their whacks.”

”But . . . but I was on my way back to Slytherin house before curfew,” Hermione protested. “I . . . I think I was hexed by Luna Lovegood!”

”Oh ho! A snitch as well. That just earned you another five lashes,” Filch said, placing his wand on the table, then removing his robes and revealing a dingy gray shirt and worn black trousers beneath. He pulled on a pair of thin, black leather gloves.

What? She wasn’t supposed to tell who hexed her? Dear gods, what kind of place was this?”

Filch picked up his wand and divestoed her robes, then her jeans, leaving her in white cotton knickers. His face screwed up. He much preferred thongs on a witch.

“Hard to believe you’re in Slytherin house wearing knickers like those,” he said, looking over his canes. “You’ve got a rather plump bottom. Hmmm. I think mid-sized ought to do the job. Now, let’s lower those bloomers and see the moon rise.”

”No!” Hermione yelled, twisting in the manacles, then kicking her legs back at the wizard.

”Oh, trying to kick me, eh? That’s another five lashes,” Filch said with a delighted grin. “Twenty in all. Oh, my, my. You’re in for it now.”

Filch picked up his wand and hit Hermione’s legs with a locking spell so she couldn’t kick. He put the wand back on the table.

”All right,” Filch said, drooling a bit as he approached Hermione, one arthritic hand reaching for the elastic of her knickers.

”Moonrise,” he breathed, yanking them down and eyeing her full firm flesh. He tapped a buttock with the tip of the cane, and it jiggled.

”I’d like an order of chips with that shake,” he breathed, stepping back and focusing.

He wanted the first stroke to land juuust right.

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”Are you sure it was Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy?” Snape asked him as they hurried down the marble staircase two steps at a time. Snape was tucking his shirt into his trousers, zipping up his fly and fastening his belt buckle. He had been in the process of receiving quite a nice blow job from a sixth-year wizard when Draco pounded on his office door.

He had to reschedule.

”Yes sir. I saw her clearly. She was unconscious,” the blonde wizard replied as they headed down the stairwell that led to Filch’s torture room at a run.

Snape skidded to a stop in front of the door and pounded on him, Draco standing behind him breathlessly.

Filch lowered his hand in aggravation.

”Don’t go anywhere,” he said to Hermione, putting the cane down on the table and removing his gloves in irritation.

”It never fails,” he muttered as he walked through the small door into the “receiving” area. “Just as I’m warming up, I get interrupted. I should make up a punishment for that.”

Still muttering to himself, he pulled the door open, frowning blackly and met the narrowed eyes of Severus Snape.

”Yes, professor?” Filch asked, “What do you want?”

”You have a student here, Argus. Hermione Granger,” he said to the wizard with a frown.

”Yes, I do. She was caught out after curfew,” Filch said, his rheumy eyes flicking toward Draco for a moment. The seventh-year looked as if he wanted to hex him. “What’s it to you?”

”I have it on good authority that she was unconscious when you found her,” Snape continued.

”You mean when I caught her. It makes no difference. Out after curfew is out after curfew. There’s no half measures about it. Ten lashes of the cane. Actually . . “

Filch rubbed his hands together delightedly.

”She’s earned herself twenty lashes, one for snitching and the other for trying to do me bodily harm,” the wizard finished.

”Argus, you know that this Miss Granger isn’t familiar with our rules,” the professor said, hoping to appeal to Filch’s better side.

Unfortunately, Filch had no better side.

”More of a reason to cane her. Nothing teaches rules better than a good caning. Anyway, she’s a Slytherin, Snape. You deal with Gryffindors. If anything, Minerva should be here, not you.”

”I have an interest, because in her world . . . she’s a Gryffindor.”

”Too bad she’s not in her world. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a caning to apply,” Filch said, starting to close the door in the wizard’s face.

Snape caught it.

”I’ll . . . I’ll take her place,” the wizard said.

Both Draco’s and Filch’s mouths dropped open.

”A staff member can stand in for a student . . . any student. You know the rules, Filch,” Snape said insistently.

”Yes, I know the rules . . . but no staff member’s stood in for a student in over a hundred years,” the wizard said, looking Snape over now.

”Well, I’m willing,” Snape said, then turned to Draco.

”Go attend your rounds, Mr. Malfoy,” he ordered.

Draco didn’t move.

”But . . . but Professor,” he protested.

”Go, Mr. Malfoy,” he said again.

Draco stared at him, then turned and slowly walked up the hall. Snape looked back at Filch, who was smiling at him unpleasantly. Snape had cost him a couple of students this week with his handing out of passes. This would be nice payback.

”You’ll have to take all twenty lashes,” the wizard said.

”I know. Just release Miss Granger,” Snape said.

”Fine. Come in,” Filch said, backing up and turning to walk back into the other room.

Snape closed the door and followed him. When he entered, he saw Hermione manacled face first to the wall, dressed in her trainers, socks, knickers and a t-shirt.

”You’ve received a reprieve, Miss Granger,” Filch said, picking up his wand and flicking it at her several times, replacing her jeans and robes, then removing the locking charm on her legs and the manacles on her wrists.

Hermione turned around, rubbing her wrists, then stopped as she saw professor Snape. She ran to him, clutching him tightly.

”He . . . he was going to cane me,” she said to the wizard, clinging to him.

”I know. But, you can return to Slytherin house now. Watch for ambushes,” he said.

Hermione released him and looked up into his sober eyes.

”Can you walk me part way?” she asked him, still trembling at her close call.

”No,” Snape said, his eyes flicking toward Filch. “Mr. Filch and I have something to discuss. Keep your wand out and stay vigilant. Good night, Miss Granger.”

Hermione looked from Snape to Filch and back again.

”All right, Professor, and thank you. I know you got me out of this,” she said to him softly.

Snape didn’t reply. He just watched as she left the room. Then he turned to Filch, who picked up his black gloves and said, “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Snape said nothing, but walked toward the wall, loosing his belt as he did so.

Damn, if this didn’t deserve a shag from Miss Granger, nothing did.

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A/N: lolol. First Luna, then Filch. Poor Hermione and even poorer Snape. Getting his ass whooped. :::snickers::: I love this world. Heh, heh. Thanks for reading.