It had started in her first year, if she thought about it long enough. The snide comments, the sneers specifically for her. Put your hand down, you silly girl! Now it was just the opposite, almost ironic. She was trembling. Without any means of defence, she was at his mercy; he was going to show none. He had his wand trained on her, pointing at her throat.

***

She had just turned sixteen and had been having a rather good day. During her lunch break, Harry had given her an advanced Transfiguration volume; Ron had gotten her an assortment of sugar-free wizarding candy. They had had an exam in Potions the class before and she sat in her seat, eagerly awaiting her results. He had passed them to her dismissively, and she beamed at the 100% grade. She raced through the paper for any comments and found a rather long one at the end of the test.

Miss Granger,

Your aptitude for reciting answers verbatim from the text requires me to issue you a detention. The answers, however, were correct; therefore, your grade in this class will not take a hit. The detention will be carried out tonight at 20.00.

Professor S. Snape

She had been utterly shocked at first and had almost dissolved into tears. When classes were over for the day, she had hastily packed her things and fled up to the common room. Harry and Ron had both asked her what was wrong. She angrily pulled the exam out of her bag and thrust it at Ron, who had been standing closest to her. Harry had come around to see the problem, looking over Ron's shoulders.

'Er . . . Hermione, you aced it,' Ron said uncertainly.

'Flip to the back page,' she said, a few tears escaping her eyes. As the two boys read the note, she cried a little harder. Harry had put his arms around her and comforted her. 'I just try so hard; it's never good enough for him.'

'Nothing's ever good enough for Snape, Hermione,' Harry consoled.

He had held her a few more minutes and then they had started on their homework. Fifteen minutes till 20.00, Hermione started packing away. Harry did the same, offering to walk her down to the dungeons. She had agreed and they stopped outside the classroom with a few minutes to spare.

'I'll see you later tonight if you're up. Goodnight, Harry.'

She remembered how Harry had smiled at her, leaned over, and kissed her on the cheek, stopping to whisper 'Happy birthday, Hermione' in her ear. He had walked away without looking back. She hadn't realized she'd been smiling so hard until she turned to walk through the door and bumped into a very stern-looking Potions professor.

'I'm not late,' she had said adamantly.

'Get in!' was his only reply. Before she could respond by doing so, he had gruffly clapped a hand on her shoulder and forced her in. When he let her go, she had begun to massage her shoulder gently, turning angrily to face him.

'You know, I was . . .' was her only retort before he had closed the distance between them and backed her into a wall, his long, slender fingers clasped around her throat. She had seen that glint in his eyes when hers widened in fear – it was all too familiar. She had given her head a slight shake, refusing to believe her professor was like that man. She had still wanted to cry for Harry, who might have been within hearing range at that moment, but his firm grip scared her too much. She tried discreetly getting her wand when his free hand showed sporting two. She swallowed and felt the bump slide down his thumb. 'What are you doing?'

That glint she knew all too well flashed again in his eyes and she cringed inwardly. 'You're smart enough, figure it out.' He had spoken those last three words so precisely, so dangerously close to her face. His thumb slid up her throat and under her chin, forcing her head to tilt up. He covered her mouth with his and she was shocked at how easily her body wanted to respond. She enjoyed the strength over her . . . his strength. But how alike were they?

She raised her hand and struck the heel of it against his temple. He staggered back and she made a dash for the door. She had been surprised again at the man's agility. He had recovered quickly enough to stop her before she had even gotten a few yards. Like a trapped cat, he had sprung lightly to his feet and tackled her about the waist, the pair of them crashing to the floor. Too much alike . . . 'No, please . . . stop this,' she cried. He had paid no heed to her words, but took her there, on the floor of the classroom; she knew this would always haunt her whenever she went to Potions.

After sliding her skirt down to her mid-thighs, keeping her legs loose enough for him to slip through, yet close enough it would hurt her, he forced his way into her opening. It was surprisingly slick inside and he wondered briefly if she was enjoying this in some perverse manner. 'Feels like our good little Gryffindor . . .' his first thrust into her emphasized this word, '. . . hasn't been too good.' He emphasized the last word with a second thrust inside of her.

She heard the sneer in his voice. It was true, though; she had been tainted before she had even known who Severus Snape was. The memories of those horrible nights came rushing back to her as her professor kept thrusting slowly, roughly, into her womanhood. Her body was used to this, though; it didn't fight, that only made it worse. She felt his seed spill inside of her, relieved that it was finally over. She felt Snape's removal and heard the sound of a door shutting not long after.

She reached her hands down slowly, and wriggled her skirt up to its proper position at her waist. She inspected her legs further to find an indention encircling the two. It was tender and she just left it alone. She curled herself in a ball, sobbing for a few more minutes, then sat up and rocked her body back and forth. She noticed her wand lying a few feet away and she hurriedly grabbed it, casting a cleansing charm on herself. As she did this, she could feel the flood of tears behind her eyes, building up behind the dam that was her façade. Every time she cast a charm on herself she felt like this; she would think back to the first charm she had cast on herself upon boarding the Hogwarts Express nineteen days before. That charm had kept her sleep-deprived for a full week. Even now, she still had nightmares. She stood up, and as she had done so many times, waited until she had reached her dormitory, and cast the silencing charm around her bed. Then, she let the sobs consume her being.

***

Hermione had awoken the next morning, without realizing she had fallen asleep. She wiped her eyes free of the dried tears. Snape hadn't said anything to her about what was going to happen if she had gone to Dumbledore or McGonagall or anybody about what had transpired between them last night. On some level, he knew she would never let that part of her life be known. She cleared her eyes some more and glanced at her watch. The dial read 5.43 A.M. and she wanted terribly to just fall back asleep. She forced herself to stay awake and decided a nice warm shower would help with that. As she padded to the bathroom, she heard the four others slow, methodical breathing. She turned the tap on and undressed from her previous night's clothing. She shook herself free of the disgust as it dawned on her that she had slept in those clothes. She set the temperature of the water just a little higher and got inside the shower. No cleansing spell invented could replace the relaxed, clean feel of a nice, hot shower. She let the water wash over her a bit, soothing her aching muscles. She lathered some soap on a washcloth and gently scrubbed her skin. After washing her hair, she sat down on the tiled floor, grabbing the jar of cream. She took a little bit out and coated her legs. The cream activated as soon as the water touched it; she sat there as the foamy mixture washed her legs bare of the sparse follicles. She closed the lid to the jar and replaced it. Shutting the water off, she exited the tub and slipped the soft, warm bathrobe on. She dumped her clothes down the chute after casting a cleansing charm on them. Walking out of the bathroom, Lavender passed her and Hermione thought it best to smile in a morning greeting. She got dressed in her uniform and went down to the common room with her bag. She caught notice of her watch reading 6.11 A.M. and sighed; it was going to be long day. She saw Harry sitting on the couch, doing some homework.

'Hey, about last night . . .' she started.

'Sorry, Ron said he had planned some Quidditch practise tonight, so he forced us all to go to bed.'

Hermione nodded, glad that Ron had provided her a way out of explaining why she had entered the common room at 23.14 the previous night. She took a seat in the armchair across from the sofa and started working on Transfiguration spells, not bearing to think about Potions the next day.

Harry hadn't spoken to her since that until breakfast, at which he asked her what was on her mind. She had responded by shaking her head and heading off to the library, thinking about how she was going to pass the day without dissolving into tears.

Halfway through her Transfiguration essay, she looked up, surprised to see Harry staring directly at her. 'I didn't know you were here,' she said, brushing it off as casually as she could.

'Funny, I called your attention twice. I just thought you were finishing a sentence or two on your essay before you were going to answer.'

'I was,' she said hastily, trying to shut the door on her previous musings.

Nodding, though still a bit sceptical, Harry tried to initiate conversation again. 'About last night . . .'

'I know! You told me, remember? Quidditch practise tonight,' she said, not wanting him to catch her with her guard as low as it was right now.

'Actually,' Harry said, trying to calm her down with his tone, 'I was referring to . . . earlier . . . last night.' Watching her confused expression, he added, 'When I kissed you?'

'Oh, don't worry about it. It was just a friend thing, right?'

'Right,' he agreed. Harry had been so worked up over telling her that he didn't notice she had already packed up and was heading for class until she brushed past him with a smile on her face. Feeling slightly depressed the birthday kiss hadn't come off as he had expected, he found himself in a momentary lapse of confusion. 'Right,' he said to himself, before heading off to classes with Hermione.

***

Here she was again; he had told her to meet with him more often these past couple of weeks. She had taken to putting up silencing charms around her bed every night in case she screamed their names in her sleep, crying for them to stop their advances. Each night she was here, the memories kept getting worse. Sometimes Snape's image changed and she was thrust, literally and figuratively, into seeing . . .

She gave a shudder of disgust as she felt her professor's seed spurt within her. 'Don't think we're over tonight, Miss Granger. I took a stamina potion before you came in.' He smiled maliciously when she gave another shudder, her body reflexively shrinking inward. Snape removed the chains with a quick flick of his wand and her arms fell down immediately afterward. Her knees groaned slightly at the renewed weight. She knew she shouldn't try to escape, knew she was too weak to throw him off should she attempt it, but she wanted to get away. The wand still pointed at her told her any attempt at fleeing would be futile. He walked toward her and knelt down in front of her, gently coaxing her down with him. She couldn't stop crying at the unfairness in her life. Why her? Why did she have to go through this pain? Why did anyone have to go through this? She was so wrapped up in her own emotional turmoil, she didn't register she had been crying on his shoulder for the last three minutes. The touches were so gentle, so different from the cruel, harsh thrustings from before.

'Why are you doing this?' It was a simple question, one she wanted answered. The worst thing he could do was to not provide an explanation. She realized she shouldn't have asked; the shift of his mood was abrupt and she was startled from her introversion.

'Must you know everything?' he yelled at her angrily. In his usual condescending, arrogant tone, he added words that tore through her heart. 'It's not as if I went where someone hadn't been already. Tell me, was it Potter? Weasley? Both?'

Before she could even answer, he had wound his fingers around her throat, woven them into her hair and gripped the back of her head. Adjusting his position, and with a few waves of his wand, he was leaning against an immobile cushion, his legs spread open. She shuddered for the third time that night, knowing what it was he wanted her to do. 'You hurt me, I hurt you.' The sincerity in his voice made her swallow any retribution she wanted to inflict upon him. She gave the biggest nod she could manage without her hair ripping out from his grasp. He guided her head downward, slowly manoeuvring himself inside her mouth. She tried backing up; he could feel her gag reflex kicking in, but only pressed her head down further.

She was having trouble breathing with his dick in her mouth, but couldn't lift her head up in the slightest. Her brain was trying to fight this and her lungs needed oxygen. In a desperate attempt to finally breathe, she reflexively swallowed and a rush of oxygen went through her. She kept swallowing, breathing the sweet air in through her nose. She could feel Snape's hand tensing in her hair, hear him moaning in pleasure, his loud exhalations; he seemed to arch even further into her. He was pushing her down on him faster and faster, and she was frantically swallowing him whole, wanting to get as much air as possible. The speed of it was making her a little nauseous and she constricted her throat around his dick, holding him there, breathing slowly. He arched into her once more, his semen coating the inside of throat, flowing down her oesophagus. She slowly lifted her head, uncomfortable as she felt it settling in her stomach. But she could breathe freely now and did so.

Severus felt wonderful after two orgasms, but the potion he had taken was enough for three and he knew exactly where to put it for the final one. He knew he was going to be exhausted come morning, but it would be worth it to have Granger struggling against him as he forced his way into the woman's tightest opening. God, he hoped he was going to be the first one in there. He summoned enough of his strength to stand up and position her where he wanted her.

Hermione saw him get up. As he retrieved his wand, she watched as he waved it in her direction; she could do nothing as her arms were bound behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and effortlessly picked her up, bending her over the cushion. She started to struggle, but he kept her there firmly. She heard him whisper in her ear, 'Don't even think about it.' Her mind kept bringing memories of the past summer to the forefront of her mind. No, she thought, she wasn't going to let him do this. She kept fighting his grip, putting her whole body into trying to break free from his grasp. His body soon covered hers. 'Fine, then take it in rough.' She froze at his words, but soon overcame the fear; things couldn't get worse, could they; she started twisting every which way, but he twisted her hands. The ache in her shoulders made her stop moving. She felt him position himself at the front of her entrance.

***

She had just gotten home for the holidays when it started up again. He just could never accept it. It was his favourite form of punishment for what she did. He would get that glint in his eyes and proceed to fuck her bottom. How she hated it. After it was all over, she wouldn't be able to move for a few hours. No matter how much she screamed, how much she pleaded, how much she wept, how many times she begged for forgiveness, he wouldn't stop until he had shot his load inside her.

***

As Severus thrust inside her, he heard the girl scream, taking pleasure in being the one to make her do so. She would beg for him to stop this after a while. But beg she did; what she said made him stop dead in his tracks.

'Daddy, please, it's not my fault!'