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She read it once. When that wasn’t enough to stop the frantic beating of her heart, she read it again. When that didn’t work, she read it a third time. Then a fourth. Then a fifth. Then a sixth. Then-
Exceeds Expectations.
Hermione Granger got an Exceeds Expectations on her most important finals paper.
The sheets of parchment felt heavier on her trembling fingers, a characteristic that presented itself only after it was graded. The usually irritating chatter of the Gryffindor’s Common Room felt distant somehow, as though she were submerged in water as the world went about its way.
Barely able to breathe, Hermione flipped through all thirty pages. She was desperately trying to find red ink or any indicator of where she went wrong. Did she follow the wrong format? Did she forget to attach some of the pages to the final thing? Was this all just one big mistake, a massive joke that Hermione didn’t find funny?
But there was nothing. No closure or comments. All she had was a comment on the first page’s top right corner that said,
Exceeds Expectations. This paper had potential, Ms. Granger.
Professor Riddle.
Hermione felt frustrated tears building up in her eyes. It simply wasn’t fair! All the work she had poured into that paper, all the sleepless nights and endless hours spent in the library, were beyond meaningless now. All they accumulated was an imperfect score and a throwaway comment that made her want to hurl profanities that would make Dumbledore blush.
“Hermione?”
“What?” Her voice was sharp. Her blood was still boiling and the red in her eyes still hadn’t subsided.
The very undeserving victim of her ire laughed nervously and stepped a little backwards. “Just wanted to check up on you. You don’t look happy, so…”
Hermione used her right thumb and index finger to tiredly rub her eyes, a small twinge of guilt making itself known to her. “Sorry, Harry.” The words came out in a mumble. “I’m just stressed out because of the DADA paper.”
“The paper?” He looked confused.
She just nodded and waved her thesis in his face. “The one we spent a year writing with Professor Riddle.”
“Oh! That one!” He nodded eagerly. “I’m sure you did great. I got an O!”
“I did- pardon?”
“Hm?”
“What mark did you get?”
“An O?”
Hermione angrily threw her paper on the ground, buried her face in her hands, and let out a low scream. Harry yelped, but tried to give her some reassuring pats on the back which she was just as quick to shrug off.
“Hermione, relax! We’re graduating in a week. This literally could not matter any less.”
But it did. To Hermione, this paper was her pride. Professor Riddle was one of the toughest teachers to please. He was so smart and talented that nothing less than perfect was good enough for him. Hermione spent her whole life at Hogwarts trying to impress him. She scoured through his supplementary reading assignments, passed essays a week before the deadline, and practiced her spells day and night just to show him that she was trying.
And yet, all she had ever gotten was an Exceeds Expectations. Since the first day she walked into his classroom and apparently until the day she walked out of it, she’d been nothing but an average student.
When she had chosen to take a DADA class in her seventh year, she had just one goal in mind: to finally gain the recognition from the man who knew so much about the deepest secrets of magic. That had been her only dream. It was so simple, too. She just needed to work harder than everyone else and then the rest would come to her.
Getting her final E gave her the courage to finally speak her mind.
“‘Mione, where are you going? I think you should take a deep breath and-”
Hermione gave Harry one last glare before she stormed out of the Gryffindor common room. It was late at night so most of the people were out of the halls already. She was glad she was Head Girl this year. She was ready to give Tom Riddle a piece of her mind and it would have been quite embarrassing if he was required to escort her back to the dorms.
As she marched past the portraits and statues, her mind raced and her blood pumped against her veins. Despite how much adrenaline was coursing through her, she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say to him.
Would she be reasonable? Would she yell at him? They only had a week left of school. If she was disrespectful, how would they even punish her? A week’s worth of detention? She could live with that. She didn’t mind scrubbing the girl’s bathroom with a toothbrush or writing lines until her hand was sore. It all felt worth it if she could get close to his handsome face and tell him all the nasty things he deserved.
Hermione blushed a little. He really is handsome, isn’t he? That had always been the bane of her existence. Professor Riddle was perfect academically and aesthetically, which was a complete insult to Hermione. She had always reminded herself that although she was too plain to be the prettiest girl in the room, she will always be the smartest person in the room.
If Tom Riddle could be both, what the hell was she doing wrong?
Everyone knew how attractive Professor Riddle was. Since her first year, all people would talk about was how perfect he looked and how beautiful his voice was. Hermione agreed with it all wholeheartedly, if not begrudgingly. He could command the room with a single raised eyebrow or with a swish of his pretty hands. He was so very likable and charming, too. Everyone was in love with him.
Even Hermione. Just a little bit.
I’m still mad at him though, she thought bitterly as she descended down to his office. She wasn’t sure if his office hours were still ongoing. Maybe he wasn’t even at Hogwarts. He could be away, seeing how busy he was all the time. Maybe she was being too reckless.
She had no more time to reflect on that, however, because she was stopped before she could even touch his office’s doorknob.
“Ms. Granger?” She heard from behind her. “It’s long past curfew. What are you doing here?”
“I-” She swiftly turned around to find that he was barely a foot away from her. To her mortification, she was so caught off guard by his sudden presence that she was actually at a loss for words.
“Ms. Granger?”
A blush spread across her cheeks. She only now realized that she had never really been with him alone at night. That fact was enough to get her nervous. “Sorry, sir.” Why in Merlin’s name am I apologizing? What’s wrong with me?
“That’s not quite an answer, Ms. Granger.” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you wish to speak with me? About your paper, perhaps?”
You just know everything, don’t you? “Yessir,” she muttered.
With a nod, he opened a door not too far from them and entered. He gestured for her to follow him and she did, albeit hesitantly. Something was twisting in her stomach and she just didn’t know why.
Professor Riddle casually leaned against his desk and Hermione took the seat just in front of him. He was sipping a cup of tea as he adjusted his glasses. “Go on,” he said primly. “Spill your heart out.”
She bristled at that. He was acting as though she was just being overemotional. “I think you made a mistake on my paper,” she said through clenched teeth.
He outright laughed at that. “I did?” He teasingly hummed, adjusting the black rimmed glasses that sat on his face. “What was this grievous mistake that was urgent enough to have the loveliest Ms. Granger visit my office at-” he checked his gold watch, “-eleven at night?”
As she was slowly coming to process the whole situation, regret began to coil in her stomach. What was she doing ? The confidence that her anger managed to bring forth was slowly dwindling. Her tongue was tied. Honestly, she was surprised she even got this far at all. Part of her expected to chicken out before she even got out of the Gryffindor common room.
She faltered, her previous stance drooping. “I don’t agree with how you marked my research paper.”
“Oh? And what grade did you receive?”
A blush appeared on her cheeks and she cringed slightly, finally starting to realize how ridiculous she must sound to a grown man. “Exceeds Expectations,” she glumly muttered.
“And what’s wrong with an E, Ms. Granger?”
She looked him in the eye. “I think I deserved an Outstanding, sir. ” She was already here. She might as well do what she came to do. If she looked like a swotty ass in the process, then that’s the hill she will die on.
“That’s very interesting for you to say,” he said calmly. “Why do you think so?”
She took a deep breath, her doubt scrambling her mind and preventing her from thinking as coherently as she wanted. “I know I worked hard,” she managed to get out. “I made sure I followed all of the comments, corrections, and suggestions you wrote in my previous drafts. I’ve had several consultations with you and other professionals in the field of my research.” She bent her head downward a little, unable to look directly at him anymore. “I’ve put a lot of effort into this paper, sir.” Her voice was quiet. “I think you should reconsider my score.”
He was silent.
Hermione played with the end of her skirt, nervously gnawing on her lower lip. She didn’t like it when Professor Riddle was quiet. He was always so quick with his words and conversed as though he always had a snippy comeback at the tip of his tongue. Perhaps she had convinced him, or perhaps he was too stunned by her audacity to speak.
“I suppose we could work something out.”
Her head snapped up to look at him. “What?” She couldn’t believe it.
“I’m not as heartless as some may think, Ms. Granger.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “If I see a smart and pretty student of mine begging for a higher grade, then I shall see it done.”
Hermione jumped out of her chair, eyes wide and relief clouding her thoughts. She could scarcely believe it. She was going to get an Outstanding! Her final grade! She got all O’s on her graduation year! Hermione could finally be at peace. The heart and soul she had put into that paper were finally going to be vindicated.
He even called her pretty.
She smiled, bright and giddy. She was unable to prevent herself from jumping at him and wrapping her arms around his torso, hugging him tightly.
Professor Riddle appeared shocked. He tensed at her embrace and didn’t comment as she leaned her cheek against his chest. Hermione happily closed her eyes and breathed him in, appreciating the smell of parchment and herbs that she had loved since her first year.
When it appeared that she wasn’t going to let go any time soon, Professor Riddle sighed and pulled her closer. Hermione was surprised, but continued to hug him nonetheless.
“Thanks, Professor.” She could hardly contain the delight in her tone.
“It’s my pleasure, Hermione.” He said with a purr.
When she was ready to pull away, she was startled when his hands continued to hold her flush against him. Although she was leaning away, the arm wrapped around her continued to hold her waist flush against his.
“Professor?”
He looked so gorgeous up close. Even after seven years, he had never lost his beauty and Hermione was never desensitized to it. She was certain he could have had statues built from his image or portraits devoted to his perfect face. She always appreciated how smartly he dressed, and how his glasses framed his face and jawline, and how his hair was always soft and wavy to look at. Hermione had never met anyone as smart and pretty as him.
“I’ve watched you grow into a fine young woman, Ms. Granger.”
Her heart fluttered. His dark eyes were hooded as he appraised her lips. “What do you mean, sir?”
Professor Riddle raised his hand to lightly touch her cheek. Hermione blushed at the contact, not really sure where this was going. Her whole body weight was leaning against him, but she was too entranced to break away. “You’re no longer the child I first met in the classroom,” he said. “Your younger self would have never stood up to me and demanded me to bump your grade. You would have cried and made your next essays insufferably longer instead.” He chuckled. “I must say- this development is rather intriguing. You have always been my favorite student.”
She swallowed, leaning a tiny bit closer to him as she spoke. “Really?” She licked her lips. “I thought you always disliked me.”
Professor Riddle played with her hair as he leaned down to whisper to her. “You’ve always been special,” he said. “You aren’t dull or boring like the rest of the students in this school. You’re talented and too smart to even know what to do with it.”
Hermione pouted. ”Why have I never gotten an O from you, sir?”
“I liked having your attention.” He chuckled and Hermione couldn’t bring herself to feel outraged at his admittance of unprofessionalism. “I liked it when you glared at me and tried your best to please me. I’d make sure to be extra harsh with how I grade you and how I write comments on your work just to make sure that you’re always thinking about me.”
That should not have made her heart skip a beat. He was confessing how unfair his treatment of her was, and her first reaction was to have butterflies flutter in her stomach? “I should tell that to the Headmaster,” she said breathily.
He pulled her closer to him. “I know you won’t do that,” he spoke just as flirtatiously.
“Oh? Who’s going to stop me, Professor?”
He finally leaned down and kissed her.
Hermione gasped. He pulled her tightly against him, but he was seemingly unsatisfied because he suddenly sat on his desk and hurriedly placed her on his lap. He made her face him as he pressed their lips together in a frenzy.
Hermione could hardly comprehend what was going on. Professor Riddle — the man of ice and the strictest teacher in Hogwarts — was snogging her so hard that she could scarcely breathe. This was a fantasy that many students could only dream about, and now she was actually living it. His lips were as soft as she had imagined and his body was as chiseled and strong as she had assumed.
“Professor,” Hermione gasped. “What if someone walks in?”
“I’ll kill them,” he said with disinterest. However, Hermione saw him swish his hand to lock the door before he placed it on the side of her face.
“I’m your student,” she said between kisses. “Isn’t this wrong, Professor?”
He shrugged. “Is it wrong for me to get hard when you call me Professor?”
As Hermione registered his words, she finally realized that the hardness she had been leaning against the whole time wasn’t a belt, but his manhood protruding against his trousers.
“Professor!” She tried to pull away, but was thoroughly unable to due to his unrelenting grip.
“Don’t you want this, Hermione?”
“That’s not the point.” She blushed hard, feeling his cock against her heated pussy.
He licked her lip. “Tell me to stop right now,” he said. “And I will. If you say that this isn’t what you came here for, that you don’t want this to happen, then I will let you go and you’ll never hear from me again.”
“Professor…”
“Answer me, Ms. Granger.”
He used the same tone he used in class when he asked her a question. To her utmost shame, she felt even more excited.
Her only response was to remove her sweater before unbuttoning her school blouse, revealing a deep red bra underneath.
“Eager, aren’t you?”
Hermione smiled coyly and rubbed herself harder against his pulsating cock.
Professor Riddle unclasped her bra and held her small breasts in his hands, squeezing and caressing as he pleased. He played with her nipple, relishing the way Hermione sighed and gasped at each tug.
One of his hands snaked down to her waist before it sneakily reached her wet crotch. He moved her short skirt away and pushed her white panties to the side. He touched her outer layers lightly, enjoying how soft and hot Hermione was for him.
Hermione moaned out loud when he began to rub her inner lips, biting her lip as she stopped herself from screaming like a whore. She couldn’t help herself, however, when Professor Riddle began to rub circles into her clit. She buried her face in his shoulder as he worked the area no one else had ever touched before.
“Who knew that the Gryffindor Princess could be such a slut?” His voice was teasing. She responded by leaving love marks on his pale neck. “Would you offer yourself like this for any professor who offered to give you a better mark?”
“I dunno,” she said innocently. “Would you bump up any student who offered to take your cock?”
He growled, excited at how dirtily she was talking. Hermione had to admit that part of what made this whole experience so delicious was the taboo. This whole situation that they were wrapping themselves in was so scandalous that Hermione felt like her whole life would collapse if someone found out.
That wasn’t enough to stop her, though.
“Fuck me, Professor.” She moaned in his ear, thoroughly enjoying how quickly he was fingering her wet cunt. His long fingers spread her wide, worshiping her wetness as they slid into her all the way.
“That’s a little rude,” he said. “What’s the magic word?”
“Please,” she breathed. “Please fuck me, sir. I want-”
Hermione couldn’t even finish her sentence. As quickly as he could, Professor Riddle unbuckled his belt and brought out his long hard cock. A drip of liquid was already forming at the top and, with a giggle, Hermione scooped it up with a finger before putting it in her mouth. She stroked him, a bit unsurely, but gained confidence when his eyes fluttered and when his lips parted.
“Ms. Granger,” he said softly. “I’ve always fantasized about taking you in my classroom. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine— imagining you bent over a desk or giving me the dirtiest blow job you could.”
She giggled at that, her hands pumping his member even faster. “I’ve always had the tiniest crush on you, sir. If you did anything, I might have said yes.”
That did it for him. With a growl, he lifted her lips and placed his cock against her hole. Hermione clutched his shoulders for dear life as he slowly descended her down his long cock.
Hermione moaned as she went, feeling full and satisfied. Pleasure rocked her body in waves as he carried her up and down, forcefully making her take all of him in. He did so slowly, making sure she felt every inch of him.
She was slightly surprised. Most of the books and the stories told by her classmates told her that sex hurt. It would sting and eventually she would suck up and get used to it. It all sounded horrible and Hermione was certain that the pleasure of sex wouldn’t be worth the pain or discomfort.
This wasn’t painful, though. This was pure simple heaven and she wanted more.
Hermione was unsatisfied by their tempo. With a whine, she quickened their pace by bringing her own hips up and down, slamming her arse against his thighs as she did so. It was exhilarating and so very good. She was sure that, for the first time in her life, her head was empty and she could think of nothing.
“This feels s-so good, Professor.” She covered her mouth with her hand as if it could stop her from looking even more wanton.
He chuckled. “I’m sure I’m better than the Potter brat or Malfoy.”
She blinked, slightly confused. “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “I’ve never had sex with them.”
Much to her dismay, he stopped moving. “Never?” He tilted his head. “Are you a virgin?”
Hermione blushed at how frankly he asked. “Yes, Professor.”
Professor Riddle smiled slowly as he put them in a new position where Hermione was lying down on his desk and he was between her smooth legs. “Is that so?” He pulled his trousers further down. “Then I apologize, Ms. Granger.”
“For what?”
“I have no choice but to ruin you for anyone else.”
He kissed the top of her knee before he slammed his wet cock back inside of her. Hermione gasped at how sudden it was. She felt her body scrape against the wooden table as it scraped the stone floors.
She was sure she was seeing stars. He filled her so deeply that all she could think about was how good everything felt and how she’d fail even more of his classes if she could. He put her legs above his shoulders as he tried to drill even deeper into her. She didn’t mind how tightly he held her or how many bruises she’d have in the morning. All she cared about was him.
“I’m cumming, Professor!” She screamed. To her surprise, he managed to go even faster at her words. He was so rough and careless, vastly different from the calm and poised teacher that she had always known him to be.
With a final moan, Hermione felt herself burst one last time with an orgasm that shook her body in waves. Her legs trembled around him as he pumped a few more times before he came inside her, too.
As he pulled out, he closed her legs and pulled her up towards him. He brought her in for another kiss which Hermione returned just as eagerly.
“Professor?”
“Yes, Ms. Granger?”
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“Am I really your favorite student?”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Save your questions for office hours, my dear.” He teasingly patted her cunt. “I’m afraid we must schedule more… consultations for you.”