Chapter 1 of my favorite harry potter fanfiction, Quiet Desperation.

The air was cold and damp in the potions classroom. That was typical of this dank, familiar place, but Hermione's state made her more vulnerable to the chill. The room was silent except for the scratching of a quill, and Hermione swore she could hear the candles flickering. She could hear herself breathing, too. She had to remind herself to inhale and exhale like normal so as to not feel faint.

Professor Snape was seated behind his desk. Hermione didn't turn her head to see him because the sound of his writing served as her reminder that he was still there. She was close enough to smell him too, which helped her feel comfortable. She knew by now to trust him completely, and if she did, he would never leave her anything but satisfied.

It was getting late and her body was starting to ache. She wasn't sure how much longer she could remain bent over the front of his desk like this. Her face was getting warm on one side from being pressed against the lacquered oak for so long. Hermione took a steadying breath as she watched the wax drip and collect at the bottom of the candle he had lit upon her arrival. She shut her eyes and counted her breaths in her head. She had counted to 147 when the scratching of the quill finally stopped.

The potions master's chair scraped against the floor as he stood and the harsh sound made Hermione cringe. She heard him tap a stack of parchment together directly beside her head before he walked around to the front of the desk. Hermione didn't move.

Severus stood behind her for a moment, taking in the sight of her bare arse. Hermione heard him sigh before he squatted down to pull her knickers up from between her ankles. He took his time situating them before pulling up her stockings as well and he rubbed her behind affectionately before flipping her skirt down to cover her bottom.

"Alright, Professor Granger," he said in a quiet voice, so as not to shock her. "You may stand now." Hermione steadied her hand on top of the desk and stood slowly. She shut her eyes as a wave of dizziness and relief washed over her. When she turned around to face him, she leaned back against the desk and steadied herself. Snape stood mere inches from her body and he could smell the scent of sweat and vanilla in her hair.