Yes, Miss Granger

“Yes, Miss Granger,” Ero repeats, obedient to her wishes.

“What would you like me to do, Miss?” he asks, trying to sound more confident than he feels.

“Sign in, please, Mr. Apostasia. Sign in and hand over your wand.”

Ero stands before Hermione, who is seated behind a large teacher's desk in a small, dimly lit classroom. The air is thick with tension. Rows of weathered wooden desks surround them, each one bearing the marks of prior lessons and detentions. Full-length mirrors hang on every surface, reflecting the tension in the air. She stares at him coldly, and Ero feels his chance at an early dismissal dissolve in an instant.

On Hermione's desk lies an unsettling assortment of implements designed for punishment: a rectangular paddle with holes drilled into it, a flogger, and, most ominously, a long, whippy cane that sways menacingly as she moves.

“Surely those aren't for me?” Ero thinks, his heart racing.

Reluctantly, he dips the provided quill into the dark ink and signs his name next to the slot that reads: Ero Apostasia, 7th Year, Detention 8-9 PM, Crime—Stealing Knickers, Punishment—Severe.

His face flushes crimson as memories of the prank flood back. He had stolen all the girls' knickers from the school laundry for a laugh, enchanting them to float and flutter around the castle, causing great embarrassment for every girl who had to chase after their undergarments while the boys roared with laughter.

It’s now common knowledge that Ginny Weasley favors satin boyshorts, while Luna Lovegood prefers printed briefs adorned with dancing radishes, freshwater plimpies, and nargles.

The Hufflepuff Quidditch team still dines on that story, and Ero wonders what “Punishment—Severe” really means. Will he be writing lines? Perhaps facing tedious laundry duty? The thought of receiving a spanking like a naughty first-year sends a shiver down his spine as he glances nervously at the implements laid out on Hermione's desk.

Hermione extends her hand expectantly. Her crisp white button-down blouse is neatly tied at the waist, accentuating the silhouette of her figure. Below, her dark red tartan pleated skirt flares slightly, embodying the vibrant Gryffindor colors.

Ero hands over his wand, the cool length of wood slipping from his fingers into her waiting hand. He steals a glance at Hermione, feeling the weight of her gaze upon him, a mix of authority and something else he can’t quite grasp. The ominous presence of the tools on her desk looms larger in his mind with every passing second.

Without a wand, he feels utterly defenseless. He is at the mercy of Hermione Jean Granger-Prefect on Duty.

As silence stretches between them, Ero braces himself for what comes next, the uncertainty of his punishment hanging heavy in the air.