Professor Snape Book Novels & Stories

He would tell her I was a problem that couldn't be bought. I went inside and found Vane sitting on the bed, looking at the crepes like they were poison. "He wasn't nice, was he?" Vane asked quietly. "No, Vane. He wasn't," I said, sitting down next to him. I was shaking, the adrenaline finally leaving my system and leaving a cold, jagged exhaustion in its place. "I miss the professor," Vane whispered. "He was scary, but he never looked at me like I was a chore. Dominic looked at me like I was a piece of luggage he had to carry."

I slowly and carefully gathered my books, taking my time so I wouldn't have to walk too close to him. But he was already at the front desk, putting papers in order with his big, veined hands. I had to walk right past. "Professor," I mumbled, looking down at the floor. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. He didn't answer right away.

She bustled around, preparing the tea, I assumed. I sat at the small wooden table, watching Nyla creep toward a woven basket overflowing with bottles and strange objects. The key had to be in there somewhere. "The... the road was long," I managed, trying to deepen my voice. "Oh, but you're here now. That's all that matters." She set a steaming cup in front of me, and the sweet smell got stronger. "Drink up. It will help with your tiredness." I lifted the cup but didn't drink. Something about this felt wrong. Well, more wrong than pretending to be a dead man to trick a crazy mage.

His eyes, those damn eyes remained locked on me, drinking me in like he couldn’t stop, like he wouldn’t stop even if the world fell apart. It was intimate. It was strong. It was forbidden. Every law, every oath, screamed at me: Stop looking at him. Stop feeling this. He’s your professor. This is forbidden. But instinct roared louder. My lips parted, trembling, as I clutched my arms around myself. My breath hitched, my entire body trembling with the unbearable pull toward him. I couldn’t look away, even as shame scorched me from the inside. “Dante,” Professor Cross snapped, clearing his throat, the sharp sound easing the tension.

I knew that I would obey her like the law until the end of my life. She was my queen, my universe, my world, and my everything. I didn't know what would happen to me if she ever left me, but I think I might go insane. We may have started our relationship in a forbidden way and ended up in pain, but this time, I'll do my best to make sure that our new beginning will end up in euphoria. I am Dashiel Davin Carter, the Psychopath Professor of Marra, and I am her Psychopath Lover. And now, I could hereby say that the class has officially dismissed. The End.

the man said to the professor. "I obey your will master," the professor acquiesced. "Take this book as well," the man said smiling at the professor. "What is this book for, master?" the professor queried. It was a thick book with golden engravings on it that shines and changes at random, as if enchanted. It's a magical book, thought the professor. "It's a book on how to become an immortal. Spread that among my followers. Do not fail me, slave," the man said gravely. "As you wish master!" the professor's hand was trembling as he held the book on his hands.

"Professor—" "Third problem." His fingers left me abruptly, and I whined at the loss. The sound of his belt unbuckling made my stomach flip. "You’re impatient." The zipper followed, the rustle of fabric. Then, thud. Something heavy landed on the desk beside my head. A book. "The Eros Discipline." His voice was a smirk. "Ever read it?" I shook my head, my cheeks flaming. "Pity." His hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back so I could see the cover—a woman bound in ropes, her body arched in submission. "It’s about a professor who re-educates his student. Sound familiar?"

The person that just got to my back was looking at me and made a weird face before holding my hand. The person behind me later changed his mind and switched with the person behind him also. After switching that, the person I later found to be behind me was Captain Snape. I was so happy and desperate to listen to his life being a black Pirate. Sir, Captain Snape. How does it feel being a black Pirate Captain. Because I used to think something like white supremacy or something. I asked him

Below it, a small, silver plaque read: “Draco Thorne, Head of Literature Department.” My hand, reaching for a delicate-looking mug, froze mid-air. Head of… Literature? Oh, for the love of… That meant… that meant the man whose thick, heavy cock had been buried deep inside my wet cunt just hours ago, the man who’d called me his “little whore” as he’d sucked on my nipples, the man whose scent still clung to my skin like a forbidden secret… Was my new professor. Fuck.

Thе lеаrnіng theory stuff wаѕ рrоbаblу оvеr thе tор, but oh wеll. If Mаndу wаѕ рut оff bу mу behavior, ѕhе didn't lеt іt show. Shе huggеd the book аgаіnѕt hеr аnd ѕаіd, "Thаt ѕоundѕ like a gооd іdеа." Thеrе wаѕ conviction in hеr voice, аnd she hаd a completely nоnрluѕѕеd аttіtudе. It wаѕ as іf ѕhе thоught that fondling a professor's thigh wаѕ реrfесtlу nоrmаl bеhаvіоr. I fоund thіѕ attitude odd, but I wаѕ juѕt hарру that ѕhе wаѕ easily agreeing tо еnd оur learning session. Of course, a small раrt оf mе wished that I could be thе bооk pressed аgаіnѕt thе ѕwеllѕ оf hеr сhеѕt.