"Do stop Snivelling," he remarked calmly as he pulled her along roughly by the elbow through the crowded atrium of what used to be the Ministry. She didn't know what it was called now since the Ministry technically no longer existed. It had been overthrown just two weeks ago. But from her small holding cell in the lowest level of this place, she heard very little news about the events following the battle.
In fact, she was still uncertain what was to become of her. She had been woken up from unconsciousness by a rough jailer who proceeded to give her to none other than her loathsome Potion's Professor, the traitor, and the spy.
Weeks in that cell with little food and surrounded by cold, damp and stale air, she was certain that would have died. In fact, she welcomed it. But now, she was being dragged to the floo connection.
In the commotion of the atrium and with a pounding headache she felt herself becoming weaker and weaker. It was fortunate that they had arrived to the Floo Connection because she could barely stand.
"Please…" she mumbled trying to gain his attention. "I…"
And that was all she could remember before darkness consumed her.
She woke to something cold pressed against her forehead. The cold object moved from her forehead to her cheek and then it disappeared.
It took some efforts but she managed to open her eyes briefly before they closed again like heavy gates.
"Drink," a voice rumbled those words softly to her and suddenly something cold pressed against her lips and thick liquid began to trickle down her throat.
Soon another vial was pressed against her lips, then another, and another. In her fever induced state she realised that never in her life has she had so many potions crammed down her throat. This was the result of being put in the care of a Potion Master. At least he was a competent one.
With that thought, she felt the soothing and in the past weeks, the familiar, feeling of sleep wash over her. She wondered briefly if this time, it was going to be it for her. This time, she wouldn't have to wake up again. She was no longer in pain and she felt warm.
When she woke again, she was disoriented and unsure of where she was. The ceiling was a pale yellowish brown and there were mold prints in the left corner of the ceiling. It reminded her briefly of Number 12 Grimmauld Place but the cluster of bottles, vials and assortment of books on the dresser was not familiar to her.
"Uh…." She groaned as she tried to prop herself up onto her elbows to get a better view of the room.
From her new vantage point, the room still looked unfamiliar to her. But the Slytherin pin on the bedside table jogged her memories. She remembered the dark and damp cell, being dragged out of that cell unceremoniously, and then the potions.
She was in Snape's home.
Speak of the devil, the man himself appeared in the doorway as soon as she came to that conclusion. He entered the room and in three large strides, he stood directly besides the bed, towering over her.
"Does anything hurt?" he asked clinically.
"No…" but she realised that that wasn't true. "My chest hurt."
He gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and handed her two vials. She drank them both under his watchful gaze and handed the vials back with trembling hand. She was on edge and terrified of the man that loomed over her in black. Never in her life, has she been so afraid of the man. She had always regarded him with a sense of respect and admiration. But after what he's done during the war, she wasn't sure what to think of him. But right now, he was the enemy and he was an enemy who held her life in his hands.
"You will not try to leave this house. It is warded," he stated simply.
"Okay," she replied in a raspy voice.
He conjured a glass of water and set it on the bedside table before he moved around the room and opened drawers. She wondered if this was his room and why he was not sleeping here. How long had she been sleeping for.
"I cannot continue to cast cleansing spells on you," he told her. "Take these. The bathroom is across the hall. I suggest you take a bath, you are not strong enough to stand for too long."
With that he put the towel and folded clothes on the bed and left the room.
After two weeks sleeping on the floor, no amount of cleansing charms would remove the grime from her. On top of that, she had also been camping in the forest months before that. Needless to say, she was grateful when she submerged herself into the warm and soapy water.
However, she couldn't help but think of the future. Was this warm bath a sort of last meal for her? What would be of her? Perhaps she'd be given to the Death Eaters to be defiled and killed at a revel. Or maybe she'd be kept by one of those sadists. None of those were fates she wanted.
She wondered what her chances to escape were. They probably weren't good. At least not the conventional definition of escaping. She could always just… just leave this world. But a small part of her had hope, hope for a better future. It was going to happen, she just had to survive long enough.
She closed her eyes and let herself relax for the moment. She was alone and there was no immediate threat.
It was only when she heard the banging of a door swinging open, that she realised she had dozed off.
A very frantic man stood at the door and stared at her, gaping.
She realised that she was naked in the tub and felt very vulnerable. But shouting at the man just did not seem like a good idea.
"You have been here for almost an hour," he told her.
"I… I fell asleep," she explained weakly as she stared down at her prunie fingers.
"Get out," he told her in a tone that left her little choice.
He had the decency of keeping his eyes from roaming her body and handed her the towel when she left the tub.
She headed back to his room and dressed herself in the clothes he left her. They were obviously too large for her and she had to roll up the sleeves and the pants at least three times before they fit, but they were clean and soft lounge clothes.
It felt uncomfortably intimate to be wearing a strange man's clothes. Though said strange man did just see her naked, and in her mind, she knew that it would most likely not be the last time a strange man would see her naked and the next one may not be quite as reserved as Snape.
The knock on the door dragged her out of her bleak thoughts.
"Come," he ordered her as he opened the door.
They found themselves in his small kitchen after trudging down the creaky and wobbly stairs. During their short travel, she realised that it was a very typical 1900th century house. It reminded her of her grandparents' place but far less inviting. Even the fridge and the stove were the same as the ones they had.
He proceeded to turn on the stove and heat a pot of something before sitting down across from the woman who had been watching his every move.
"I will not harm you," he reassured her. But then added, "Unless you give me a reason to. The Dark Lord has seen it fit to give you to be as a… reward," he said the word as if it were distasteful. Whether the distaste was due to her presence or something else, she could not tell. "You will help around the house and assist me when I require it. Any attempt on my life or to escape and I will send you to Madame Morris'. Do I make myself clear?"
She didn't know what Madame Morris' was but it did not sound appealing. And given all her fears, this was not the worst thing that could have happened to her. So she nodded.
"You will reply when spoke to," he reprimanded her. "And you may refer to me as Sir here and in public."
"Yes sir," she replied.
As Severus stood up to fetch her some soup and a piece of bread, he was glad that she was such a quick learner. Perhaps she would be able to survive this.
During the past four days, Hermione has been recovering with remarkable speed. This was mostly in part due to the potions that Snape kept on giving her daily. With her recovery came new tasks that he appointed her. They were quite easy and mundane but they kept her busy all day. She'd spent the first day dusting the house by hand. The next two days, she proceeded to wash all of the surfaces of the house. Finally today, she was told to cook their meals for the day. She did all of this at her own pace and saw very little of her keeper.
While she waited for the roast to cook, she sat in his small living room and discreetly read a book she pulled off from one of his many bookshelves. It was a harmless muggle book but she still wasn't sure if he would mind.
So when Severus strode into the room, she quickly hid the book underneath her. Of course, a man who has been a spy for decades saw through it immediately.
"What are you hiding?" he almost growled at her.
"No… noth…" but she couldn't finish it. He wasn't stupid.
He moved towards her like a predator stalking his prey, he knelt down across from her at eye level and held her by the chin so she could not look away. As realisation darned on her, she felt him barge into her mind and scavenge her thoughts. When he left her mind, she was disoriented and a little nauseous. It was not a pleasant feeling.
"Do not hide things from me," he reproached her. Then added after a pause. "You may read anything on the two shelved in the living room. Return them to their place when you are done."
"Roast will be done in another 10 minutes, sir," she told him, hoping to move his attention away from her earlier indiscretion. "I will go set the table."
He moved away from her so that she could go to the kitchen. She was such a young and brave little thing. He hated to have to put her through this but it was the only way.
When he walked into the dining room, he looked at the places set on the table and scowled at her.
"What's this?" he asked her knowing full well she had no idea what he was asking.
"I… I set the table?"
"You," he said snidely. "Are not to eat with me. If fact, once you serve me, you will stand next to me at my beck and call."
There was a pause where she registered this and nodded, "Yes, sir."
She shakily put the plate and cutlery away before serving his the roast beef, grilled potatoes, and fresh greens. Had this entire experience not have been incredibly painful for him, he would have quite enjoyed this meal. He forced himself to pretend to be enjoying himself. He ate slowly as she watched from besides him.
Hermione felt faint as she stood there on an empty stomach. She was still recovering from weeks of malnutrition and today, she had been looking forward to eating this meal.
But she had been deluding herself by thinking that she could live comfortably. She was essentially a prisoner of war. She should be counting her blessings.
When supper was over she was glad to have some times to eat. But she had lost her appetite from her new revelation that her life was no longer going to be easy. The months of camping was not a hardship compared to this.
As she did the dishes the muggle way, she felt a presence in the room with her again. She knew who it was and tried to not be frazzled by his appearance.
But when he began to approach her, she tensed up. She stopped breathing entirely when she felt his body press against hers and his chin rested on top of her head.
"I… dishes," was all she could muster.
With a wave of his wand the sink emptied.
"All gone," he told her smugly. His hands snaked around her waist and roamed her body slowly. The thin cotton of his clothes did nothing to protect her against his advanced. His lips trailed up and down her neck as he whispered to her, "I've had to wait days for this."
A shiver ran though her and she was too confused to understand what exactly that shiver was about. Suddenly she found herself being spun around and lifted onto the sink and was at eye level with him.
He leaned down and kissed her roughly. The kiss was demanding and aggressive. His teeth nipped at her lips and he held her head with a hand behind it.
When he pulled away from her, his eyes were dilated and he was panting. He roguishly wiped his lips with the back of his hands and looked down crassly at her.
"Alas we must leave for the Malfoy's" he spoke nonchalantly as if he did not just assault her. As if his hands were not currently still trailing the curve of her behind and slid into the waist of her pants.
She found herself lifted off the counter and her lips were once again captured by him. In between the kiss he mumble, "We can afford to waste a few more minutes." In the heat of the moment, she did not realise that her pants were now discarded and her hair was being mussed up.
When he pulled away again he gave her a wicked grin, "We'll finish this late. Be good later and I'll try to be gentle."
With those words, he wrapped her into his arms and she felt the familiar suction feeling of apparition. When the feeling ended, she heard hushed chattering and felt a breeze on her now bare legs.
"Severus!" a loud boastful voice shouted. "Is this your new pet?"
"Yes," he told the man curtly but he did push her out for the man to leer at. "I have a meeting with the Dark Lord."
"Ever the rule follower," the other man sighed dramatically. "We won! Celebrate a little!"
"I would like to get this done and over with," he explained with a smirk. "I plan to have my own celebration late tonight." At those words, looked pointedly at Hermione and pulled her flush against his body. As he did this he bent down and whispered into her ear, "You will be obedient or I will make you suffer."
She was reminded that the man had a way with words and knew exactly how to incite fear as she quivered.
They walked down a long hallway with checkered black and white marble flooring, which she stared at the entire time. Inside the set of double doors, was an equally empty hallway but this one ended with a large throne at the end of the room. If she were not so scared, she would have scoffed at the fact that the Malfoy's had a throne room.
"Ssssseverus, my mossssst faithful sssssservant," the red eyes snake-man welcomed him with open arms. "I sssee you are enjoying your little pet."
"Yes my lord," he replied as he bowed politely. He put a forceful hand on her shoulders and applied pressure until she took the hint and got onto her knees.
"Obedient," his master remarked.
"Yes," he agreed. "Was there something you needed my Lord?"
"Potionssss," the snake-man demanded. "My body isss weakening."
"I shall make the usual then," he complied.
"Sssstronger," he told the other man.
"Very well, but it may take longer,"
"How long?"
"Two months," Severus estimated. "At most."
"Very well," and that put an end to that subject. But he was not done with his guests. "Mudblood," he called to her. "Come to me."
Hermione looked at Snape for an indication of what she should do and at his urging, she approached the reptilian man. Before she knew what was happening said man, if he could even still be called a man, entered her mind and began to pillage her thoughts. If she had thought Snape was rough when he entered her mind then this was on a whole new level of pain.
In quick successions images of her time with Harry in the woods flashed before her, then of Ron's death and Harry's goodbyes, then of her time in the cell and finally of her time with Severus. The perverse megalomaniac paused on the memories where Snape ravaged her and ordered her like a slave. Then it all became too much for her and she passed out.
She was awakened to the sight of Snape pointing his wand at her. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for her death but it never came.
Instead he belittled her and helped her to her feet, "Foolish weakling," he sighed. "I'm afraid we must take out leave before she becomes sick in your presence."
"I sssshall sssee you in two monthssss," the snake-man promised.
She couldn't really remember what happened afterwards but she did remember the pulls of apparition, being fed some minty potion, and being tucked into a comfortable bed.
A/N- Hello fellow readers! I know that I have an unfinished story but I really wanted to write this one. While i will be updating slower, I will try to make this story more coherent, better edited and overall nicer. I hope you enjoy it!
As always, I own nothing and please drop me a comment or message if you want. I like reading your stuff as much as you enjoy reading mine!