She tries to magically cover herself... unsuccessfully

(All charcters are 18+)

Snape stepped back, his expression unchanging. "You will not leave this office," he declared, his voice cold and final. "Not until you can magically rectify your own... predicament. I will not have a Gryffindor strumpet parading through my halls in such a state. You will learn to solve your own problems, Miss Granger, instead of relying on others to clean up your messes."

Hermione's heart sank. "But Professor, I don't have my wand..."

Snape gestured to a table where her wand lay. "You dropped it in your haste. And you," he pointed to a dusty shelf, "will find ingredients from my private stores. You will not cover yourself with any nonmagical or mundane object. You will use magic, or you will remain here until you do. Now, begin."

Hermione snatched her wand, her hands trembling. She tried to ignore Snape's predatory gaze as she racked her brain for a simple covering spell. "Vestimentum Reparo," she whispered, pointing the wand at her chest.

A shimmer of light enveloped her, and for a moment, hope flickered in her chest. But instead of fabric, the spell manifested as a fine, shimmering dust that clung to her skin, highlighting every curve and contour with an iridescent glow. It covered nothing, merely accentuating her nakedness with a sparkly, humiliating sheen.

"Ah, attempting glamour charms, are we?" Snape sneered from his desk where he had settled to watch. "A rudimentary choice for a supposed genius. Perhaps you should focus on spells you can actually execute."

Hermione's face burned. She tried again, this time with a transfiguration spell she knew well. "Pannus Exhordo!" she declared, aiming at a loose thread from her ruined bra.

The thread writhed and thickened, but it had forgotten its former shape. Instead of forming a piece of cloth, it elongated into a long, sinuous ribbon. It shot out and wrapped itself around her breasts, not covering them but binding them tightly together, pushing them up and out, her puffy nipples protruding between the strips. The magical ribbon tightened, constricting her movement and creating a deeply uncomfortable, yet oddly stimulating pressure. A gasp escaped her lips as the ribbon cinched just a little too snugly.

"A valiant effort," Snape commented, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Though your control appears to be... lacking. It seems you've managed to fashion yourself into a rather poorly wrapped present. Do try to focus, Miss Granger. Magic requires precision, not just enthusiasm."

Frustrated and flustered by the constricting ribbon and the attention it was drawing to ger pink nipples, Hermione abandoned spells for a potion. She stormed over to Snape's stores, her movements awkward due to the binding. She grabbed a cauldron and frantically searched for ingredients. "Dittany... for regrowth... powdered silver... for structure... a bit of moonseed... to bind it..." she muttered, throwing them into the cauldron and adding water.

She stirred furiously, bent over the pot for a solid 10 minutes, the liquid bubbling and turning a murky grey. She hated that she was exposing her ass toward Snape, but she attemoted to turn her embarassment into focus. "Cresco Vestis!" she incanted, dipping her finger into the mixture and dabbing it on her hip.

Instead of forming fabric, the potion reacted violently. The grey patch on her skin began to bubble and spread, not outward to create clothing, but inward. A bizarre, tingling, crawling sensation spread through her lower body. She let out a choked cry as it felt like a thousand tiny magical fingers were tracing patterns on her skin, teasing and tormenting her most sensitive areas without ever providing any real coverage. It was an agonizing, frustrating tickle that made her knees weak.

Snape rose from his desk, his expression one of profound disappointment mixed with a flicker of amusement. He approached the cauldron and peered into it. "Incompetent," he hissed. "You've mixed a skin irritant with a nerve tonic. You're lucky all it's doing is causing you discomfort. You've created a potion that mocks without any tangible effect. A fitting metaphor for your intellectual efforts, perhaps."

He waved his wand dismissively, then tapped it twice on her breast and hip. "Finite Incantatem," he muttered, and the horrible crawling sensation vanished, leaving her skin tingling and hyper-sensitive. The binding ribbon around her chest loosened and fell away, leaving her puffy nipples once again completely free and embarassed.

"One more attempt, Miss Granger," Snape said, his voice dangerously low. "And this time, try not to frustrate us both with your own incompetence. I will not - I repeat, NOT - rescue you from yourself again. Perhaps a simple conjuration is beyond you. Try a charm. Something to provide... modesty."

****, Hermione thought of the most basic charm she could. "Praesidium Simplex!" she cried, picturing a simple, modest loincloth in her mind.

For a second, it seemed to work. A wisp of what looked like dark, sheer silk materialized in front of her. It drifted down, aiming to cover her hips. But as it made contact, it didn't stop. It passed through her legs, and instead of settling, it began to shrink and tighten beyeeen them. It wrapped around her thighs, then her knees, then her ankles, becoming a shimmering, ethereal set of magical bonds. It didn't hurt, but it held her fast, preventing her from moving her legs more than an inch apart. Worse, the sheer fabric was positioned perfectly between her legs, and with every tiny movement she made, it shifted and rubbed against her mound in a way that was both mortifying and maddeningly distracting.

Snape let out a low, dark chuckle. "Truly abysmal. You cannot even manage a simple covering charm without it transforming into some form of magical hedonsim. It seems your subconscious desires are at odds with your intentions, Miss Granger." He circled her slowly, his eyes raking over her bound and naked form. "Perhaps this is a valuable lesson. Magic, like life, has a way of revealing our true nature. And yours, it appears, is to be exposed and... restrained."

He stopped in front of her, his face inches from hers. He placed his wand against her whispy pubic hair "You have failed. Utterly. I am not here to witness you satisfying your suppressed girlish fantasies. Your female features will not distract me, no matter how much you flaunt them flagrantly." He said tracing the tip of his wand up her stomach to the swell of her petite underboob.

He spin around suddenly, walking away. You will remain in my office until you can produce a simple, functional covering that does not violate the rules. I will give you one hour. If you are still in this... state... I will deduct another fifty points from Gryffindor and assign you detention with Filch for the remainder of the day."

He turned and swept toward his desk at the end of the room, sitting behind it and busying himself in his paperwork. Hermione sank to the floor, bare legs still magically bound, her wand clattering beside her, utterly humiliated in the cold, dark room.