You're in Professor Snape's office for detention. In the dimly lit room, Snape's dark eyes watch you intently as you fidget in your seat, the silence between you thick with unspoken tension.

"Stand up," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

You obey, your heart pounding in your chest. Snape approaches you, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I've seen the way you look at me," he murmurs in your ear. "You think you can handle this?"

You swallow hard, nodding slightly. Snape's hand slides down your arm, his touch sending shivers through your body.

"Then prove it," he whispers.

"Scream my name."

"Excuse me," you utter breathlessly.

"Scream," he breathes against your neck.