A Rock and a Hard Place

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Snape’s temper and patience burned short during the next class. He snapped at students and testily pressured them for answers and results. But, Trudy noted, he refrained from any more name-calling or humiliation. Trudy watched the Professor from under heavy-lidded eyes. It appeared that unfulfilled sexual tension might be cracking his usually unreadable façade. She thought dreamily of how she might make it up to him…after.

But after class the Professor leaned down toward her and said, “Do you know where Pomona Sprout’s greenhouses are?”

Trudy nodded uncertainly. She had a vague idea of where he meant, somewhere near the huge, hairy guy’s shack.

“I need some dried mandrake. Please ask Pomona if she might spare me some.”

“Yes, Professor.”

He gave her a curt nod and turned away. Trudy’s heart sank. He seemed so cold and unemotional. Maybe her anger had turned him off her for good. Maybe she had been imagining what had seemed to be his thawing toward her. She turned on her small, spiked heel and made her way blindly outside.

Finding the greenhouses presented no real problem. In no time, she had a bag of dried mandrake in hand and was making her way carefully back toward the castle, trying to stay on the hardened ground and avoid having her spiked heels sink in the softer mud. She rounded one of the castle’s many inexplicable turrets, hoping to find a shortcut to the Professor’s dungeon.

“Well, look at what have here. Snape’s little assistant.”

Trudy’s thoughts snapped from churning ruminations about the Professor to the present. Two over-sized teenagers were blocking her way. Behind them, leaning against a turret with his arms crossed, was a teen with a pale, pointed face and a bored expression.

“Goyle, leave it. She’s staff,” the pale teen said, examining his fingernails.

Alarm spurted in Trudy’s veins. It was bad enough to be accosted by burly youths with bad intent. But if any of these boys got a glimpse of her shoes or what she was wasn’t wearing under her robes... The corset dug painfully against her panting ribcage. Her sex and breasts felt exposed and vulnerable with just a loose robe covering them.

“That’s right,” she said as haughtily as she could manage. “I’m staff. Get back to class.” Her words might have held more weight if her voice hadn’t quavered at the end.

“Staff,” the other large boy repeated. He had long, beefy arms that reminded Trudy of an ape’s. He reached toward Trudy’s neck. “You’re a bit small for staff.” Trudy slapped his hand away.

The other big teen, Goyle, was reaching for her. “She’s a Muggle,” Goyle said, managing to grip Trudy’s sleeve near the shoulder. “Do Muggles have rights at Hogwarts, Malfoy?”

The pale teen crossed his ankles, still leaning against the castle. “Sure they do...if they can enforce them. But she’s Snape’s assistant, you twit.”

Trudy’s struggled with Goyle, trying to yank her robe out of his hand without the robe’s ripping. The two boys quickly had her mashed between them, lifting her off her feet. With rising panic, Trudy drew back her fist, but didn’t have the space or leverage to throw the punch. Someone’s thick hand was on her thigh. Another hand was scrabbling for her mouth. Trudy made a thin cry of terror.

There was a soft sound. Trudy didn’t register it at first. Her attackers froze. Then she realized someone had cleared his throat more loudly than usual.

“I do hope this isn’t the way you normally treat Hogwarts faculty,” came a familiar drawl. Trudy had never in her life been more happy to hear the Professor’s sarcasm.

Goyle and the other boy loosened their grip on her. She sagged against the castle wall, feeling nauseated and faint. Her heart pounded. She longed to sink to the ground, but her fear that her body or shoes would become exposed kept her teetering on her high heels.

“I told you, Goyle,” Malfoy whinged. “Professor, I told them not to attack her.”

Snape shot him an unreadable look. “And you were very effective, Draco.” The pale boy flushed and looked furious. “Normally,” Snape continued, “I wouldn’t care if you boys decided to be...boys. But this is faculty.” His voice was loaded with contempt. “While I would have the utmost sympathy with you, Crabbe and Goyle, if you wanted to remove Ms. Mills from my classroom, I’m afraid that more physical confrontations could become matters for the Ministry of Magic. And then I would have to fill out the paperwork and attend the hearings. Most tedious.” Crabbe and Goyle exchanged gleeful looks. “On the other hand,” Snape went on, “I cannot ignore witnessing an incident of this nature, especially as Ms. Mills serves in my classroom. So...how many points from Slytherin should it be?” The three boys looked at him with shock. “Fifty apiece? No, I wouldn’t want the House to suffer overmuch for the over-enthusiasm of a few.” Relief stole over the teens’ faces. “How about cleaning the Slytherin boys’ toilet?” Malfoy looked outraged and began to sputter. “No,” Snape droned on, “that seems so...first year. I fear, Crabbe and Goyle, that you will have to report to the Headmaster.”

He flicked his wand in the air, and an owl flew in and landed on a turret windowsill nearby. Snape scribbled something on a piece of parchment and crooked his finger at the bird, which flew to his feet. He tied the parchment to the owl’s leg, and it flew off in the general direction of the main Hogwarts entrance. The three boys stood stock-still.

“Well?” Snape barked. He lifted his wand at Crabbe and Goyle. “Didn’t I direct you to the Headmaster’s office?” Crabbe and Goyle seemed on the point of protesting, but a glance at Snape’s expression changed their minds. Reluctantly, they turned and trotted morosely after the owl.

Snape turned to Malfoy, who looked uncertain. “Your wand, Draco,” Snape said. “Highly effective means of persuasion. Try using it next time Crabbe and Goyle become too eager. I can’t afford the best enforcers in Slytherin to be bound for Azkeban before they reach their majority.” He paused. Malfoy’s expression wavered between defiance and agreement. “My regards to your father,” Snape said. “And get back to class.” Malfoy’s face tightened in triumph before he slouched off in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons.

When he was out of sight, Snape turned to Trudy, who was clinging to the wall, breathing hard. “Are you hurt?” he said in a low voice.

She couldn’t answer at once, but at last she managed, “Those kids tried to rape me, and all you gave them was a trip to the principal’s and regards to their dad?”

Snape’s lips tightened. “You’ve had a shock. Let me get you back to my rooms.”

Trudy started to protest, but began breathing heavily again. She heard the Professor say something, and suddenly she felt better.

“What did you do?” she said.

“I said a small spell, something for the shock. Now are you well enough to walk? We are in full view of the castle, and it won’t do for me to carry you.”

“You wouldn’t want to anyway,” she muttered.

He didn’t reply, but followed her as she made her way slowly back into Hogwarts and to the Professor’s rooms. He shut the door behind her and turned on her. She flinched, expecting accusatory words, but instead he took her chin in his hand and turned her face one way, then the other, looking at her eyes. He felt her arms. “Did they hurt you?”

“J-just bruises, I think,” she said. Inexplicably, her teeth began chattering.

“Take off the robe.”

“I don’t think I’m up for that—"

“You’ve had a shock. Take it off, so I can help you.”

Her fingers clumsily plucked at the fastenings until he brushed them away and efficiently removed her robes for her.

Now she stood before him, in garters, stockings, high heels, a corset, and nothing else. She was painfully conscious of her exposed breasts and pubic hair. Snape only looked her over carefully. He took her wrists in his hands and studied her arms. “Bruises, yes. Who gripped you like that?”

Trudy looked down and saw the imprint of fingers on her flesh. She shuddered. “Both of them. Crabbe and, and G-Goyle.” Her teeth were still chattering.

Snape pulled her to a chair, and she sank into it gratefully. In a moment, he pushed a cup and saucer into her view. Trudy took a sip mechanically, tasting tea and something harsher. In a little while, her quivering receded.

“Better?” Snape said.

“Yes. Thank you.” She breathed deeply and shut her eyes. “Why are those kids your pets?”

"Pets?"

"You know. Your favorite students."

“They aren’t,” Snape said after a brief pause.

“Do you mean they used to be your pets, but now they aren’t, or do you—"

“No more talking,” he said firmly. “I can’t do more than send them to Dumbledore. They’re underage.”

“What about the other boy?”

Snape again took his time replying. “There’s more to Draco than that encounter may have revealed. At any rate, he didn’t hurt you, and that counts for something.”

“What if he—"

“No what-ifs. Finish your tea.”

“What’s in it?”

“Firewhiskey.”

“What’s that?”

“Just finish it.”

“I was so afraid,” Trudy said between sips, “that they would see what was under my robes—"

“They didn’t.”

“And you and I fought,” she whispered.

Snape stood up. Trudy watched him with huge eyes. “Have you finished that tea?” he said neutrally.

“I—" she said nervously. She forced the rest down her throat. Warmth spread through her body, deadening the horror of a few minutes before.

Snape took the cup and saucer out of her hands and set them aside. He put his hands around her cinched waist and raised her to her feet. Trudy could only stare at him. His hands guided her toward the bedroom. Uneasily, she walked in front of him, every nerve aware that her naked backside was on display for him. The lips of her sex were thickening, pouting from between her legs. Thick wetness was anointing her pubic hair.

Inside the bedroom, he pulled her close, one hand brushing her nipples, the other finding the lips of her pussy. He bent her face down over the high bed, and she heard him opening his clothing. She could only gasp and arch her back when she felt his hard thickness slide over her, from clit to entrance and back to clit. Her legs thrashed. And then the thickness was jammed partway inside her, spreading her pussy open. Her legs thrashed some more. He took firm hold of her meaty buttocks and spread her open mercilessly. Then he pushed in to the hilt. Trudy couldn’t speak. She kicked for a few moments, high heels in the air, the movements driving her up and down infinitesimally on his thickening tool, and then she let out a long moan, her pussy grinding down on him rhythmically, milking his shaft.

Snape couldn’t prevent an animalistic sound tearing from him. He began driving into the Muggle, reaming her open, watching his heavily veined cock probing her tumescent sex. Orgasm gathered steam in his balls. His penis thickened even more. He heard the Muggle struggle beneath him and felt her pussy rippling along his shaft again, and then he drove himself deep inside her cunt and shot spurt after spurt of his seed inside her.

In the immediate aftermath, his cock twitched, staying hard. He wanted to fuck her again, determined to fill her with as much come as possible, anything to erase the thought of Crabbe and Goyle nearly violating her. Trudy moaned again beneath him. Snape couldn’t help admiring the view of her small waist and full buttocks, the hair showing between them, and the lips of her sex nearly purple and glistening with her wetness and his come. He pulled her open from in front and behind, putting her clit in direct contact with his cock as it thrust inside her.

“You’re not going out any more without me,” he said through gritted teeth.

Trudy could only gasp, making almost rasping noises with each jab of his cock inside her.

“Do you hear?” Snape said.

Trudy’s legs kicked and jerked. “Ye-es!” she ground out on a long moan, her third orgasm making her ass shake and her pussy pulse.

Snape rammed his cock up her and emptied himself again. For a long time, neither of them moved. Sweetness crept through Snape’s nerves. He pulled the Muggle up on the bed with him and allowed himself to fall into an unconscious sleep, his hand on her breast.

He awoke all at once, sitting up in the bed. His arm was burning. There was a flutter of feathers at the window, and a sealed letter slipped between the panes of glass and floated to the bed. Snape tore it open.

“What is it?” Trudy said sleepily.

“We,” Snape said grimly, “are going to visit the Dark Lord.”

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