A few opening author's notes:

First, thank you to everyone who offered reviews on the first chapter. It did me good to see I could still write something of value. Next, I want to establish this story takes place in 7th year, after Hermione's birthday so she is 18 from the get go. I am still trying to work out what happened in sixth year to make it so Dumbledore can still be alive, but I may just declare this story to be AU and let you guys just ponder that for yourselves. In a perfect world poor Snape would have never had to even consider killing Dumbledore. Anyways… on with the story.

Hermione dragged herself into the shower after a moment, refusing to cry. She turned on the water as hot as she could stand it and let it pound down onto her skin, barely registering how it stung on her injuries. She tried to will her mind to go blank but as usual her mind was brimming with questions. What did this mean? How would her life change? She snorted to herself as that question entered her mind. Of course her life would change. It already had. The Death Eaters had stolen her innocence; there was no way to erase that. Now, she had to wonder what lay ahead for her.

On auto pilot she grabbed some of the shampoo she found and worked it into her hair, vaguely registering the fact that it smelled like sandalwood. As she rinsed it out and began to work some conditioner into her knots her mind drifted to her caretaker. Was Severus Snape really on the Order's side? Some of the incident was blurry in her mind, which she figured was due to psychological trauma, but as far as she could remember the only part he had taken in the ordeal was marking her. She washed out the conditioner and let the water continue to pound down on her as she thought about him. This year he had let her stay after class and work on independent projects so long as she didn't inconvenience him. Several times he had actually sat and debated proper ingredients for certain potions and how charm work could increase potency of some concoctions. She wouldn't claim they were on friendly terms, but she had noticed he had seemed to make more of an effort to be more tolerable towards her.

She turned off the shower and stepped out, surprised to find a towel and bathrobe sitting folded on the sink's countertop. She dried off gingerly, trying not to rub too hard against her injuries and avoided touching her mark. She then quickly toweled her hair dry, leaving it slightly damp. It was a lost cause in her mind no matter what she did. She then slid on the bathrobe, noting how it was a little big on her and had the faint traces of sandalwood in the fabric. She approached the bathroom door and took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever or whoever may lie on the other side of the door.

"Miss Granger," An old voice said warmly as she stepped out of the bathroom. She looked up to find Albus Dumbledore sitting on the edge of the bed. "I was hoping you would join us soon."

"Us?" She questioned. Her attention turned to the right and found her potions professor standing in the now visible doorway.

"We were having tea in the study if you would join us." The headmaster supplied.

She shifted anxiously, her hands flitting downward to secure her robe tighter, never taking her eyes off of the younger man.

"I asked the house elves to bring you some more suitable clothing." Finally her gaze went back to the elderly man. Sitting next to him on the bed was a pile of clothes neatly folded. "We will retire to the study to allow you to change. We have much to discuss and I am sure there are questions you would like answered as well." He stood up from the bed and made his way through the doorway that the potions professor had abandoned at some point when he had been talking.

Hermione joined them in the study after she had put on the clothes. She was not certain if they belonged to someone previously or if the elves had conjured them but she thought that nothing could feel as comforting as the dark thermal shirt and blue jeans they had provided. She found another fire going in the study along with a small couch and two armchairs arranged around a coffee table. The furniture was upholstered in a midnight blue color, and she found the green shade of the carpet to be complimenting to the color scheme and not associated with house colors. The word study made her not surprised to find more books in the room, but she was still impressed with the quantity he seemed to own. For a brief moment she wished they were on more amicable terms so she could explore the bookshelves and see what her professor kept in his private collection. The men both occupied the armchairs so Hermione took the middle seat on the couch, tucking her sock covered feet up under her legs.

"If I remember right, you take it one sugar and just a splash of milk?" The headmaster asked her, motioning to the tea tray.

She nodded and while he busied himself with the preparing of her cup she continued to look around the room trying to avoid looking at the other man who was covertly glancing at her.

"There you go my dear," He said warmly and handed her the cup. "Also," he motioned to the tray to point out two small vials resting on it. "Once you finish your cup there is a healing and stamina potion waiting for you. We would have administered them earlier, but it is important that you had a memory in your mind of the damage you endured from the revel."

Her tongue felt thick in her mouth at his words. "Why is that?"

The headmaster gave a sigh that seemed to strip away some of his normal lighthearted manner. "Regretfully the actions of the Revel you attended have put you into a more active role in the war, Miss Granger. Tom Riddle captured you and awarded you as a prize to Severus for his years of supposed loyalty. He allowed Severus to bring you back to Hogwarts as a test to him of his allegiance. If he does not serve his role as being your Master, Tom will see him as a traitor." He gave another sigh and began to speak again. "This was something neither Severus nor I had anticipated him doing. It shows how little he really cares about half-bloods and muggles anymore."

"How long have I been gone? Will I be able to stay at Hogwarts? If not, can I go home? What of my family? Are they in danger?"

The headmaster held up wrinkled hand to slow her stem of questions. "You have been gone for three days. Harry and Ron have been informed that you were interrogated by Death Eaters, but Severus managed to negotiate your release. They expect you to be in rough shape, but they know nothing of the truth. I fear they can't handle it due to their already negative views of Severus and that it may prevent them from keeping it a secret. Since you were sent back to Hogwarts, Tom has forced it so you will remain here for most of the time. He knew that I would not let you just simply disappear. I understand how circumstances may make it so you desire to leave. Unfortunately I cannot advise it. The tattoo on your back is a physical mark you carry from the Servio, or slave, spell. It is old magic that has its roots in the Imperius curse. Since Severus was the one to place the spell upon you and give you the mark you will be compelled to serve him and must follow his orders if he commands it. Tom knows you are under this enchantment and if you go into hiding it could compromise Severus' position."

"So as long as I cooperate, everything should be okay?" she asked. "What is being expected of me?"

The headmaster stroked a hand down his beard as he appeared to think. "For now you need to heal. In a couple of days you can return to class. If you would like, I can have some of your work sent down to you. Hopefully your daily routine will not change too much. Severus tells me that you have taken to using the potions lab on occasion this year so it should not seem out of place if you need to see him after class hours. Severus will need to sit down with you and help you construct some memories for Tom in case you have to face him. We need to make it believable that you have become involved with Severus for this to work."

"Does that-" she stammered as her hands tightened around the teacup, uncertain how to finish the sentence. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her professor shift in his chair as if he was uncomfortable.

"We hope that you will not have to do anything that puts you in a compromising situation, but I cannot promise that. I can promise though that Severus has made your safety and well being his priority in this situation." He stood up then. "You may not be aware of it Miss Granger, but it is late and I do believe I am in need of rest. I think that I can leave you in the hands of Severus to answer any more questions you may have. He is probably more knowledgeable with anything else you may need to know at this point." He turned and nodded at the professor in farewell and then approached the mantle and retrieved a pinch of floo powder. He tossed it into the hearth and the flames flared green. He turned back to her for a moment. "If you require any assistance from me Miss Granger, please don't hesitate. Not only are you a student, you are a member of the Order as well. Goodnight my dear." With that he stepped into the flames and disappeared.

Silence descended after his departure, the only sound in the room the crackling of the logs in the hearth. She focused on the teacup cradled between her hands, not certain who should start.

"You should take your potions," he said after a long lapse of conversation had passed. Hermione took them and then began to fidget with one of the vials, twisting the cork inside the bottle. She looked up as he began to speak again. "I'm sorry you have been placed in this position Miss Granger. The Dark Lord has always seemed to be creative in his "rewards" for his followers, much to my displeasure."

"Are you truly on our side?" the words slipped out before she could stop them.

His black eyes locked onto her gaze. "What do you think?"

She looked at him, trying to search his face for the truth. She had some study of Legilimens, but knew his Occlumency was better than any skill she had. She hazily remembered him scooping her up at the end of the revel, how he had cradled her body close, almost tenderly. Somehow she remembered making it back to his quarters, even though she did not know that was where they were. In her mind it was right before she had lost consciousness again that she heard him say "Foolish girl. Couldn't you have been some place else?" It had been phrased as one of his insults, but there had been sorrow rather than venom in his voice.

"I believe you wish no one to be harmed." She began. "I also believe you wish for this war to be over as much as anyone else. I don't want to be a part of this, but I don't blame you. I-" She found the next part hard to say and paused a moment, trying to force the words out of her mouth. "I will help you in whatever way possible. Ending this war is the most important thing."

He ran a long fingered hand through his hair and looked at her. "I feel you need to know the complete situation so there will be no shock to you later down the road." His fingers laced together in his lap and he sat staring down at them. It was obvious whatever he had to say was difficult. "I know with you having been a member of the Order you are aware of my dual role. I have tread the grey line of being neither villain nor hero since the Dark Lord's first defeat. When the Dark Lord first reappeared in your first year, I maneuvered myself to make it appear I had remained loyal to the cause throughout his absence. When he gained his physical body back in your fourth year, he awarded prizes to those he felt had been most loyal to him. My prize was he gave me a bride to carry on my bloodline."

"I remember him saying that."

"There will probably come a time when you will have to meet Lucinda. The Dark Lord believes in the "strength" of families." She could detect a note of something sour in his tone. "His has named you as a slave bride. He expects me to keep you close and that means welcoming you into my household."

Hermione was slightly dazed by the remark. "Your household?"

He nodded. "Yes. I inherited my parent's home in Spinner's End at the time of my father's death. The neighborhood is practically abandoned since the mill closed down. The house has been magically reinforced and expanded since I've become the owner to grant a safe place for Lucinda and the children to live. If circumstances were different," He looked down at his hands and sighed. "I'm sure you would know Lucinda. She is an intelligent girl, very well read. Her father however is a sympathizer to the Dark Lord's cause and when he began to discreetly ask some of followers to volunteer young women to help replenish the pureblood lines, he jumped at the opportunity. Lucinda had always been privately tutored rather than attending school so her disappearance was not readily known."

"How old is she?" She found herself asking.

A grimace crossed his face. "Lucinda is nineteen."

Hermione felt slightly ill, but tried to hide it. "How old was she when you were married? How old are your children?"

"We've been married since Lucinda was 15. I managed to push off having any children with her until a year into our marriage. The twins are a little over two now."

"Twins?"

A small smirk briefly flitted across his mouth. "I know. It's hard to imagine the bat of the dungeons with toddlers."

Hermione stared at him for a moment and tried not to focus on how sick she felt at the information regarding Lucinda. It was horrible to think of a girl only a year older than herself had been forced to marry at 15 and become pregnant at 16. She could never imagine having to devote herself to two infants at such a young age. What she tried to keep sight of was that her professor seemed to if not love his wife, at least care for and respect her. She had no doubt that he held affection for his children. The brief glimpse of his half smile had been the only time she had seen happiness on his face not associated with the glee he seemed to take in tormenting his students. She tried to look past the mask to see the man that lay beneath, but as always he gave nothing away he did not want to. "You can tell me better than the headmaster what to expect. What is required of me now to keep Vol-" she paused, catching herself in time. "You Know Who satisfied?"

Her professor leaned back into his chair and looked at her, almost seeming to try and detach himself from the situation. He began to speak in his familiar lecture tone. "The enchantment I have used on you is called the Servio spell. The main effect is the person placed under the spell becomes compelled to serve the caster and is beyond being able to resist. They can still retain a sense of normalcy, have their own thoughts and opinions, but will feel a desire to put the needs and priorities of their "master" first. Any resistance can be overcome by intoning the incantation to the subject again which will bring them completely under their master's control until released from the state. The spell is related to Imperius but also bears the trait of nullifying the affects of Imperius. A subject under the effects of Servio cannot be controlled by anyone else. Dumbledore did speak correctly in that I will endeavor to put you into no circumstances that may compromise your integrity. You should not have to bear children. I have already placed a contraceptive charm on you that should give the appearance of you being infertile if the Dark Lord were to test you. I may be able to resist for a while having to present you to the Dark Lord by feeding him false memories of us being involved. Eventually he may ask to see you in person. I hope by that point we might be comfortable enough with each other to pull off the appearance of a Master/Slave relationship. I must confess however that the Dark Lord is something of a voyeur and you may be subjected to performing sexually in front of him."

"I don't know if I have the strength for that." She confessed, her cheeks becoming stained with a blush. "Before all of this, I was a virgin."

"No offense Miss Granger, but I had been under the impression that you and Mr. Weasley had been involved."

The blush deepened. "We had attempted a relationship over the summer hols, but found we weren't really compatible. The most we exchanged were a few snogs."

"Then maybe it is best that Servio has been used in this instance."

"How so?" She inquired.

"May we try an experiment?" He asked her. She hesitantly nodded and he stood and crossed the room, coming to sit down on the couch beside her, but at a respectable distance. "Miss Granger, how do you honestly feel about me?"

"Honestly?" He noticed the nervousness that seeped into her tone.

"Honestly. There will be no repercussions for you speaking your mind on this."

"Well…" She chewed on her lip for a moment. "You are strict in the classroom. You have very high standards for everyone in everything. You can come off as sarcastic-"

His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. "I am sarcastic." He corrected in a tone not quite harsh.

"You can act like a right prat at times. You're brilliant by my observation. You're intelligent and I envy your skills in potions. And even though I don't think you are some kind of softie underneath it all, I do believe there is a different person lying behind the sadistic taskmaster you present to us in the classroom."

"We have spent some time working together this year, have we not?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you think you would have ever had the nerve to tell me what you just did?"

She thought about it. "Most likely not."

"The Servio compelled you to follow my request, but you told me what you felt, not something you would have thought I would find pleasing. Let us try something else. Would you consider me remotely attractive?"

She looked at him startled. "I've never really thought of it, sir. You're older than me and in a position of authority."

Her professor nodded. "That is the kind of answer I would expect. How would you feel if I said I desired a kiss?"

Part of her balked at the question, but she did not feel revulsion. "I guess it would not be horrid, but not something I would jump to do."

"Once again the need to serve me is present even along with your own consciousness. Now, try to keep track of what you feel." He focused on her and whispered one word: "Inservio"

Hermione suddenly felt like a warm blanket had been tossed over her senses. She could still think, see, hear, but all of it had a fuzzy, muffled quality to it. She heard him tell her to kiss him on the cheek. On auto pilot she scooted forward, still aware of her actions, and brushed her lips briefly against his right cheek.

"Thank you. That's enough."

Just as abruptly as the sensation had materialized, it vanished, leaving her clear headed and still aware of everything that had transpired.

They sat there for a moment in silence as Hermione turned her attention to the fireplace. "How do you feel about what just happened?" He asked her.

"Fine I suppose. Part of it feels like it was a thought, not even an action I performed."

"It was not you partly. It was done by your body, but the action itself was carried out by the enchantment. If it would make it easier on you, I can place you directly under my control if you ever have to be summoned."

"I will think on it." She replied. She realized how close she still sat to him and slid away on the couch, slightly embarrassed. "How late is it?" She asked, remembering how late it was.

"Approaching midnight." He stood up and looked down at her. "You are still welcome to use my room for the evening. Tomorrow you will be able to return to your own quarters. I am sure Misters Weasley and Potter are eager to see you."

She felt tired once again at the mention of a bed, "May I ask where you will be sleeping sir?" Part of her felt bad now that she fully grasped she had claimed his bedroom.

"I have been transfiguring the chair in the bedroom into a cot to watch over you, but since you are well enough I believe the couch here will serve as a decent enough place for tonight." She started to open her mouth to protest when he gave a stern look. "You're taking the bedroom, my orders."

Hermione was partly outraged as "Yes sir," popped out of her mouth rather than the argument she had planned. She was stunned speechless when he then did break into a full smile.

"Oh, if only I could do that in class." He sighed. The smile faded from his face and he nodded a cordial farewell to her. "We will speak more in the morning. Goodnight Miss Granger."

"Goodnight Professor." Hermione slid off the couch and walked to his room, leaving him alone to his thoughts.

*~~~~~*

Severus walked over to the fireplace after the door clicked shut and retrieved the bottle of brandy left there. He poured himself a shot and quickly tossed it back, standing there with his eyes closed as the mellow burn traveled down his throat. Now that the young lady in his care had recovered, his mind strayed to the new situation that loomed in front of them. He, Severus Snape, had an insufferable know-it-all bound to him as a sex slave. Only, to be fair, he really didn't think of her as such anymore. Yes, she still tried to answer all the questions in class, but she did not act like it was the end of the world if he didn't call on her anymore. She still studied endlessly and seemed to always have her nose in a book or was eager to be in a classroom, but she didn't seem to harp as much on her associates to make them study.

Somewhere over the past two years she had developed a maturity he had failed to notice. The proof of it now stared him in the face as he thought of her. She liked to use his lab for experiments, but was respectful and never barged in like she had a right to be there. There had been several conversations they had carried on about academic and potion related pursuits that had been stimulating and not the least bit annoying. The most compelling piece of evidence was how she had handled herself like a woman this evening rather than a panicked child.

He poured himself another dose of brandy and tossed it back, feeling a miserable sensation settle over him. He was a horrid person in his own opinion. Woefully unattractive, a bitter and caustic demeanor; he had no friends to speak of, only acquaintances like Albus and Minerva. His talents included brewing potions, subterfuge and terrorizing students until they burst into tears. He had never imagined a woman wanting to be with him after Lily's rejection and now he had two that were bound. Two young women whose lives were to be ruined by their ties to him. He sarcastically wished the Dark Lord could award in cash or maybe real estate sometimes.

Lucinda was a lovely girl and he never thought he would still have as much love in his heart as he held for their children, but he could feel no love for his wife other than a father-like affection. He liked caring for her, bringing her new novels or periodicals to read. He enjoyed taking her to the opera on occasion and conversing with her while the children played in the garden. She was pretty, but he had never been attracted to her. He was still certain part of the reason, besides her pure bloodline, she had been chosen was she bore a resemblance to the Prince family traits. When they had first met, Severus had a hard time trying not to think of her as a young version of his mother. Another woman snared in another loveless marriage; the legacy lived on. Combine this with the fact of how young she had been when they met and wed, he could never bring himself to be interested in her the way a husband should be. The few times they had slept together had involved no lights on and her persuasion; him feeling guilt for committing an act that made him feel like a monster, guilt for knowing the only man to ever touch her may never love her.

He felt even more guilt over Hermione. There was a part of her that he was attracted to. She was intelligent and had an earthen beauty about her. There was nothing about her outside of her love of reading that reminded him of his mother. Even now he felt some stirrings of physical desire towards her and with that came shame. She was technically an adult, but she was still young to the world. She had never known love, never known desire. In a perfect world she would have lost her virginity at her choosing, not in a bloody revel of horny sadistic men. She should of fallen in love and been bound to a man of her choosing. Instead she was now attached to someone twenty years her senior, expected to cater to his every sexual whim.

Severus closed his eyes with a sigh. He had wanted to offer her an apprenticeship. Develop a relationship with her discreetly. He had never expected anything sexual, but he found part of him had begun to crave some kind of tie to her. Maybe that was where it had gone wrong. Had he been obvious in his feelings for his student? Had one of his fellow followers whispered the knowledge to the Dark Lord that he seemed to favor her? A third glass of brandy was quickly poured and consumed. He was starting to settle into a black mood. He grabbed the brandy and made his way back across the room, flopping down onto the couch carelessly. He tilted his back against the couch and felt the liquor began to snake through his system, the tingly spirals starting to make him feel drowsy. His mind drifted to how he had ordered Hermione to kiss him. He had maintained being unaffected on the outside, but there had been the slight thrill of adrenaline as she had leaned closer, the warmth that blossomed through him as her lips had softly brushed against his skin. If only it could have been of her own free will…

His midnight colored eyes slipped closed as the alcohol continued to tug at him. As he brought the bottle to his lips he was certain that somewhere beyond the veil Lily was laughing at him.

Ending A/N: Well, there's the end of chapter two. I hope you enjoyed it. Some of it felt tedious to me, but I am trying to get back into my element. Please review, I'll try to have another chapter up soon.