*****Ok everyobdy, here's chapter 2! We get to see more interaction between Severus and Hermione and theres alot of Severus being an ass. I ask that you keep in mind that his actions speak louder than his words. Severus is a dark character in this story, for many reasons that will come more to light as we go along. And don't worry if Hermione seems a little too compliant right now, she's down, but not out. Stick with me, this is a romance at heart, but they have to wade through each other's problems before they can get to matters of the heart!

Also...In case this is the first of my stories you've read, I usually update on Saturday afternoon and Tuesday evening, though I've been known to post a secont chapter on Sunday or Wednesday if my email just bursts with fanfic love for the previous chapter ; ) Hope you enjoy!****

Chapter 2 - Rev 22 20, Puscifer (the song for this chapter, not some random biblical quote lol)

Hermione's body convulsed in his arms. Her face was twisted in agony, and tears fell from her closed eyes, soaking the front of his robes. Severus took the remaining stairs two at a time and then flung the door to his room open wordlessly. He placed her on the bed – his bed – and quickly took off his damp robes. After pushing the long sleeves of his shirt up over his elbows he went to work on her.

With no remorse he put her in a body bind. Her thrashing stopped, but the inhuman shrieks still were ripped from her throat. He flicked his wand back and forth over her quickly, speaking words slowly and hypnotically until he could force the curse to bend to his will. It wouldn't last long, but it would give him time to try and examine her and find out how to help her.

Half an hour later he was exhausted, weak and almost trembling from strain. And he had no idea of how to cure her. Pulling himself from the curse was almost more than he could manage. It had already started depleting his own magic as well as hers. But he wrested himself from it and as soon as the last remnants of his magic left her, Hermione's screams started again.

There was nothing else he could do for her until he'd rested. True darkness had fallen outside. He used the last of his strength to put a silencing spell on the bedroom and then staggered down to his living room. He didn't even have the energy to transfigure the couch into a bed before he collapsed onto it.

In the morning when he woke, he regretted he'd done the silencing spell instead of the transfiguration. Every inch of his body was sore and his head felt murky. As tired as he was, he could have slept peacefully through the screams and been better off this morning from having had a good nights sleep in a bed.

Rolling his shoulders he got up and climbed the stairs. When he opened the door, Hermione was sitting on his bed and looking around her. He noticed that her glamor was in place again and he sneered at her.

"Take off your glamor, girl. It is stupid to waste your magic on something so trivial as how you look."

Hermione blinked up at him, shocked and seemingly dumbfounded. Then, slowly, she nodded and let the glamor fade. The dark circles under her eyes bloomed once more and her face resumed its pinched look.

"I assume that you felt that necessary so as not to worry your little friends. But here there are no friends here to hide it from, so refrain from idiotic squander in the future."

"The future? Does that mean that you'll help me?"

"I thought that would be obvious as I did not leave you on the street last night. Apparently I over estimated your powers of deduction."

"I guess that this isn't going to be a friendly interaction, then." She raised her chin impudently and Severus almost lost his temper.

"No, Miss Granger, there will be nothing friendly about this. I will do what I can for you, and then you will go on your way without ever speaking of this to anyone. And if you cannot refrain from being the bossy, annoying, insolent little chit I know you to be, I will toss you out without a second thought."

"You wouldn't," she glowered at him.

"Oh, yes, I would. You have no idea who I am, Hermione Granger. You've come to me seeking my help, invaded my privacy, imposed yourself on my hospitality. I am not a tolerant man. Were it not for..." He stopped and started again. "You are lucky that I did not simply turn you out at once. Do not count on my generosity holding out any more than that. Be grateful that I am willing to do what I can to help you and do not push me." He stared down at her as if she was a speck of mud on his otherwise immaculate shoes.

He expected her to storm out, or demand that he apologize, or scream that he couldn't speak to her that way. Instead, the usually brazen, haughty Miss Granger lowered her head.

"Fine," she whispered.

"What was that?" he sneered.

"I said fine, I will keep out of your way and I will do whatever you ask." She looked up at meet his gaze and there was a sheen of tears held tightly in check.

"Good," he said curtly and then turned on his heel and left.

Once in his study, he fumed silently. What had he expected her to do? Leave? Where else was she to go? If she'd had any other options she'd have exhausted them all before coming to him. She was so run down that he was surprised she'd made it this far. So why was he so angry? Surely he wasn't mad at himself for his treatment of her...surely. She deserved no less from him. He'd given her and everyone else everything he had to give for eighteen hears. He had finally escaped from all that, and suddenly she barged into his life and thrust that mantle on him once more. He did not want it. And he would not take it happily. So why did he still feel nagging guilt?

He spent the morning pouring over books. Dark texts containing even darker knowledge. Things he had thought he'd put behind him forever. But once more he was called upon to use his past for the good of others. By noon he hadn't found much except a small possibility of aid from a complex and dangerous potion.

He took a break and stretched out his aching limbs. When he felt a prick of hunger, he went to his small kitchen and prepared a small meal. Halfway through he remembered he was not alone in the house and grudgingly doubled the portions he was preparing. Before he sat down to eat his own meal he put half the food onto a tray and climbed the stairs. He opened the door without knocking and found Hermione curled on her side on the bed. She wasn't sleeping, he knew, because she wasn't screaming. He slammed the tray down on the small bedside table. Her eyes flew open in shock and she sat bolt upright.

"Do not think, Miss Granger, that I plan to serve you your meals. The kitchen is downstairs. I suggest you make use of it unless you intend to starve." He turned and was almost out the door before she spoke.

"I'm not hungry." Her voice was small and tight. Severus whirled on her and narrowed his eyes to slits.

"Be that as it may," he whispered, "You will eat. You have neglected yourself to a disgusting degree, and I will not put my time and energy into helping someone that might well die of hunger while I work. If you cannot be bothered to take care of yourself, then neither can I."

He stared at her, waiting. Hermione looked like she might fight him, and then her shoulders slumped. She reached out and took the sandwich from the tray. With grueling effort she chewed and swallowed a large bite. With Severus still watching she washed it down with a gulp of pumpkin juice. Then she met his eyes once more. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"I expect you to finish that, Miss Granger. All of it." Satisfied that she would do what he wanted, he left the room.

As he ate his own lunch he wondered if she would emerge from his room at all during the day. She probably did not have much energy, and taking his tongue lashings would probably have tired her even farther. Should he have been gentler with her?

No.

Minerva and Potter and all the others she'd gone to before would have been easy on her. They would have let her skip meals when she didn't feel like eating. They would have let her make the decisions, taken her time and been gentle never to push her. And look where that had gotten her. She was so malnourished that it was a miracle that starvation hadn't taken her before the curse could. No, she'd come to him, and she would have to put up with his abrupt, abrasive methods.

He'd been back in his study for several hours before he heard her descend the stairs. Her steps were cautious and her tread so light he almost didn't hear her. A few minutes later he could hear her in his kitchen. Deciding it was about time to stop for the day, Severus rose from his desk and went to see what damage she was inflicting on his kitchen.

By the time he reached the swinging door to the kitchen she was coming through it already with two cups in her hands. Startled, she stepped back and lost her balance. The cups flew from her hands as she started to fall. Muttering an oath, Severus caught her around the middle and steadied her. Before she could blink he'd flicked his wand at the cups which had frozen in mid air, refilled with their so recently divested contents, and then moved to hover in front of them. Hermione's round eyes looked from the cups and then to him.

Realizing he was still holding her, he abruptly let her go. She stumbled only slightly and then pulled the cups from the air. With an unsure smile she offered him one.

"What's this?" he asked suspiciously, staring down at the liquid as if it might bite him.

"Tea." She sipped her own, possibly to try and show him it wasn't poisoned. He grimaced and took a drink. To his surprise, it was black oregot tea, his favorite. And it was prepared perfectly. He couldn't help the appreciative rumble that escaped his throat. When he looked up, there as still that unsure smile on her face, but it had widened slightly.

"Its good," he admitted with a glare in her direction.

"Thank you." She turned and perched on one of the chairs in the living room. Severus followed her and sank down into his favorite chair. They looked at each other over the tops of their cups. Neither spoke for a long time. Then, a smell came curling through the living room from the kitchen. Hermione's eyes widened and she set her cup down so fast that it almost spilled. "The tea!" She surged to her feet but before she could take a single step she wavered. Her eyes took on a hazy glean as if she was having trouble seeing straight.

Severus rose quickly as she put out her hands to steady herself. He gave her his arm with a growl of malcontent and let her get her bearings. Once she was steady she took off to the kitchen. Severus followed, wondering what the blazes she was on about.

In the kitchen there was a practically antique kettle settled on the muggle stove that hadn't been used since his mother had died almost thirty years before. Black steam was pouring from its nozzle. Hermione rushed over to it and picked it up. With a strangled cry she dropped it back down and stared in horror at her burned hand.

"What the devil are you using the kettle for?" Severus lifted the red hot metal with a wave of his wand and deposited it in the sink. Hermione gaped at him.

"The tea..."

"You're a witch, you stupid girl! What could posess you to use a kettle instead of your wand!?" He was roaring his words at her, surprised to find himself more angry that she'd hurt herself than the mess she'd made in the kitchen. And of course it made him even angrier that he felt that way. She didn't mean anything to him, damn it! Why should he care?

"I can't!" She sobbed the words and ran from the kitchen. Severus followed behind her, demanding answers.

"What do you mean, you can't? Do you mean to tell me that the brightest witch of our age," he sneered the words, "is incapable of learning a heating spell?"

"I don't have...the energy." She admitted this softly, humiliated by it. Severus only stared at her in shock. She didn't have the energy for a simple heating spell?

"You used your glamor yesterday. If you had energy for that then surely you had energy for this."

"I slept most of the afternoon yesterday, before setting out to come here. If you can call it sleep."

"If you can't preform the most basic spells without sleeping the majority of the day then obviously you should sleep more. What the fuck were you doing all day?"

"I didn't want to sleep."

"Why the fuck not?" Severus tried to reign in his temper. Why was he letting someting so stupid get to him?

"Because I didn't want to disrupt you while you were researching. There's nothing I can do to keep myself from screaming when I sleep, trust me, I've tried. And maybe if you aren't constantly distracted by my screams you can cure me faster and I can get out of your life. Its obviously what you want."

Again, Severus could only stare at her. She'd allowed herself to become so weak that she couldn't preform basic spells...so that he could concentrate? So that he could be rid of her faster? He swallowed so that there would be no waver in his voice when he spoke. He wasn't sure what emotion it was that he felt but he didn't want to convey it to her either way.

"There is a silencing spell on my bedroom. Scream yourself hoarse if it will keep you from burning down my home." He growled a few words and her hand went from angry red back to pale ivory. Then he turned and went back to his chair. His tea was cold when he picked it back up and somewhat disgustedly he reheated his own and Hermione's as well. She simply looked at him for a few moments. Slowly she walked back over to her chair and sat down. They sipped their tea in silence until Severus decided it was time for dinner. "Since you cannot seem to accomplish the slightest task in your current state, I will provide dinner for you tonight. Do not expect this treatment every night."

After a few moments in the kitchen, he had dinner prepared and on the table. Hermione walked stiffly into his dining room and sat down where her plate had been set. In a move so subtle he might have missed it if he hadn't been watching her so carefully, she delicately sniffed the food.

"Unlike you, I have full control of my talents. I assure you the food is edible." He couldn't keep the bite out of his voice even though she looked to be on the brink of breaking down. She slowly lifted her fork to her mouth and tasted it. Apparently she found it tolerable because she took another bite, and another. They ate in silence, a habit quickly forming between them because Severus refused to make idle banter and Hermione did not seem to have the energy to both eat and hold up a conversation.

When he'd finished, Severus rose to return his plate to the kitchen. Hermione pushed back her chair to rise as well. As he walked by, Severus put a heavy hand on her shoulder and returned her to the chair.

"Your food is not finished, Miss Granger. You will remain there until you eat all of it."

"I am not a child!" she retorted angrily. Severus only raised a brow at her.

"As you have proven yourself incapable of caring for your most basic needs, I will do it for you if I must. While you are in my home you will abide by my rules." His tone was iron. She glared at him.

"And if I don't eat any more?"

"Then I can either throw you out, or make you eat it."

"You can't make me do anything," she gasped. Severus' jaw tightened. He set down his plate and leaned over her, planting both hands on either side of her so she couldn't evade him.

"In your current state, Miss Granger, I could make you do anything I wanted." His voice was a dark, silky caress against her skin and he felt her shiver in spite of herself. Her shoulders stiffened, outrage wracking her, and then they slumped. He was right, and she knew it. She was completely at his mercy. The idea was incredibly heady for Severus. He shook his head to clear it from the thought and leaned back up. "Do not push me," he hissed. Then he left the room.

When he walked back by, Hermione was obediently taking small bites of her food. Good. So what if he'd reminded her of how helpless she'd become? So what if he'd humiliated her and bullied her? Life wasn't fair, of that he could certainly attest. She'd been coddled plenty by others and it had done her no good. Quite the opposite in fact.

He told himself that again and again as he went to his study to select the most promising book in which he might find a way to cure her.

After she'd finally left the table, Hermione did not return to the living room where Severus was reading. She went directly upstairs to his bedroom. It made him shift uncomfortably when he thought of her in his bed. Part of him was unsettled by the idea that in only a few moments time she would be shrieking in agony. Memories converged on him faster than he could block them out. The belt whistling down, the pain burning through him, the feel of strong, cold fingers gripping him...

He shut them out quickly. No. It wasn't like that. Instead he focused on the other reason for his prickle of unease at the thought of Miss Granger in his bed. He'd never shared it with a woman before, even if he wasn't in it. And thinking of her in his bed he couldn't help thinking of her there for other reasons. Thinking of her naked and wanting. Beckoning him. It was a ridiculous fantasy but he couldn't help but entertain it. His vivid imagination could easily strip her and pleasure her. He knew exactly how he would touch her, taste her, make her scream.

His little fantasy abruptly ended. By now she probably was screaming in his bed. But not in pleasure. And a woman like Hermione would never warm his bed that way, for more reasons than one. He knew that better than anyone. Angrily he forced himself to focus on the book in his hands.

*****What did you think? Let me know, I love hearing from you all! More soon! : ) *****