Warnings still apply.
As she gradually woke up, she became aware that something was pressing down on her chest and her hips. It was much heavier than Crookshanks and not as furry. Trying to take a deep breath, she opened her eyes and was momentarily disoriented until she remembered the events of the night before.
Lifting her head, she found she was pinned down by Wormtail's arm and leg. Looking over to see if Wormtail could be prodded to roll over, she found her eye drawn to a tall, black column standing in the doorway.
Snape was leaning against the doorframe, watching her. His face was completely impassive, which made her flush with embarrassment. When he raised an eyebrow in response, she blushed even harder.
He raised his wand and sent a Stinging Hex at Wormtail, forcing him awake with a squeak.
"S-Severus! W-w-what brings you by?"
Snape smirked nastily. "I just came by to see if the girl was still here, but I see you managed to get up the wherewithal to keep her occupied." Hermione cringed. "I have a potion to make. Do you expect a summons this morning, or should I leave you to..." he paused and curled his lip up nastily, "occupy the girl?"
"I don't expect the Master will need me till this afternoon as planned, but if you need her—"
Snape cut him off with a raised hand and a sneer. "Wormtail, I have never even wanted the girl, let alone needed her."
And then he left. Hermione didn't know why she felt so completely embarrassed or humiliated, but angry tears were sliding down her face. She turned away from Wormtail and the door, curling up on herself. She knew what she was doing was dirty and wrong, and she hadn't expected Snape to respond so... indifferently. She had thought he would be upset.
She felt Wormtail place his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, what's the matter? At least now we know he doesn't care. We don't have to sneak around anymore."
She shook her head, trying not cry. "He thinks you're forcing me," she said thickly.
She didn't care that Snape was indifferent. She didn't.
The hand rubbed her shoulder soothingly. "It's better that way, Hermione," he said, and she turned to look at him in horror. He smiled at her expression.
"If he knew you were here by choice, then he would take it away from you. That's how he is."
Comprehension was her outward expression, but inside his words just twisted the knife.
Snape had been almost kind to her the last couple of weeks. Although he still watched her shower every morning, he let her relieve herself in quasi-private. He also hadn't been too deliberately cruel to her. He'd even let her eat with them one night instead of feeding her their deliberately meager leftovers.
She thought he... what, had started to care for her? She nearly laughed at herself, even as despair threatened to choke her. She closed her eyes to hide her inner torment from Wormtail. She couldn't let him know how much Snape's words and actions affected her.
"Hey, don't cry. It'll be okay. Maybe he'll leave you alone now. Wouldn't that be good?"
She nodded her head, wondering why she was wanting Snape's attention anyway. Was she going mad, or had she turned into a masochist? Why else would she be developing such feelings for Snape?
She was so distracted by her thoughts that she barely noticed Wormtail trailing kisses over her shoulder until he reached her jaw and licked her. Caught unawares, she shuddered with revulsion, but fortunately, he had turned his attention to her earlobe and didn't notice her expression. He just felt her shudder and mistook it for pleasure.
He shifted himself on top of her and looked down at her with a mix of lust and fondness.
"Let me make you feel better," he said and then put his attention elsewhere.
XXX
So he is fucking her then. I imagine he has the Dark Lord's blessing in this matter as well. Potter could hardly be more annoyed if I was fucking the girl.
XXX
"Oh, God! Oh! Oh! Hermione!"
Peter slumped onto her, breathing hard. His slick flesh was already turning sticky, and she nudged him to roll over which he obligingly did. Unfortunately, he pulled her with him, as he'd been wont to do lately. She shifted her head from his arm onto his chest, knowing that her neck would get a major crick if she tried to keep her distance. Besides, he'd been getting a little more tender and attentive toward her since the cuddling began.
"Oh, Merlin, Hermione! Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
Hermione idly stroked his matted chest hair with a fingernail, entertaining and distracting herself by shaping the fur into cones, ridges and whatnot. "Besides the orgasms, you mean?"
He huffed a laugh. He was still breathing hard, but he shifted so that he could look at her and scratch his right arm at the same time.
"Yes, you silly girl, I mean besides the mind-blowing orgasms."
She couldn't help smiling at his fond expression. She was making progress. "No. What do I do to you?"
He grinned so broadly it threatened to split his face, and then he dove down to give her a heated kiss. She still wasn't fond of his kisses, but at least she had learned to respond to them.
"You make me feel human again," he said when he came up for air. The lines around his eyes softened, making him look more human as well. Hermione squirmed inwardly; there was an uncomfortable pressure in her chest.
He tenderly brushed her hair away from her face and bent down to give her another kiss, this one softer and almost chaste. "You make me feel as if I'm Peter, not Wormtail. You make me think that there's something to life after all."
Her chest clenched painfully.
This was it.
He loved her.
And she was going to sign his death warrant.
Suddenly feeling ill, she tried to cover it by pushing him over and replacing her head on his chest. He happily acquiesced, holding her to him tightly. She rested her hand on his chest but left his hair alone.
XXX
She seems more withdrawn than usual today. There wasn't any unusual bruising, so Wormtail probably didn't beat her. Perhaps her menses are due? Or perhaps she's finally losing hope.
I shall have to keep a closer eye on her. If it's depression, I'll have to monitor her closely as the Dark Lord would not be amused if she successfully committed suicide. If it's Wormtail's doing... perhaps I'll come back sooner than expected one of these days. Call it a surprise inspection.
XXX
Hermione lay awake in her cot, wondering why Snape had stopped spiking her evening water. It obviously wasn't so that she could have midnight rendezvous with Peter, as he'd taken to warding the door to keep her in.
Maybe he knew that he snored, and this was just a new form of torturing her.
Of course, she wouldn't call that torture. Torture was feeling her heart speed up – and her body heat – as she watched him disrobe for sleep. Torture was knowing how sick it was to lust after this man who held her life in his hands and who hadn't shown an aversion to causing her pain and humiliation. Torture was the happiness a single act of kindness from him brought.
Torture was dreaming about him caressing her lovingly, only to wake up to his sharp bark and cold eyes.
She sighed and rolled over, trying to get comfortable and block out the sounds issuing from his bed.
She also wondered if he had always slept nude or if he'd started that when he'd started depriving her of sleeping potions.
She sighed again, trying to think of something or someone other than Severus Snape as she relieved her frustration with her fingers, but the memory of his impassive face as she stripped for him was what took her over the edge.
Once again, she silently cried herself into a troubled sleep.
XXX
She was pleasuring herself again last night; she smells of sex – of woman. And yet asleep she looks so young, almost lost. Who is she really, girl or woman? Lost or found?
And which is it that makes her cry?
XXX
Peter returned from his summons looking pale and wan.
"In a bad mood, is he?" Snape asked, looking vaguely amused.
Peter looked daggers at Snape, but then smiled rather nastily.
"Yes, he is, and now he wants to see you."
Hermione was surprised to see Snape looking mildly discomfited by that pronouncement, but he quickly masked it. He nodded, clothed himself in his robes and was gone within a matter of seconds.
Hermione looked back to Peter who had placed his wand on the table and slumped down into the kitchen chair nearest him. She felt a stab of pity at seeing Peter look so drawn and then realized that she hadn't thought of him as 'Wormtail' since the day he'd told her how she made him feel.
"Did he hurt you?" she asked, coming over to rub his shoulders while wondering if she was letting herself get too close to him emotionally.
"Mmm, right there," he murmured, stretching his neck to the side to accommodate her hands. After a few more noises of contentment, he answered. "Yeah. When he's in a bad mood, he likes to use Crucio on whoever annoys him. I always seem to annoy him nowadays."
She hummed sympathetically, continued to knead his shoulders until her hands cramped up and then sat beside him at the table.
"Do you know why?" she asked, curious despite herself.
He shook his head mournfully. "No, but I suspect I've outlived my usefulness." He looked up at her, and for the first time she saw a scared little boy sitting in front of her instead of a weak-willed man. Her chest tightened painfully.
"And there's nothing you can do?"
He shook his head again, his face a picture of bleak resignation. "No. I think the only reason he hasn't killed me yet is because of you."
Hermione nodded, understanding it had more to do with Harry than her.
"Can't you run away?" she asked tentatively.
He shook his head and unconsciously scratched at the skin around his silver hand. "He'd find me," he whispered. "He always finds them, the ones who run away. And we've all had to watch what he does to them. It's... it's horrible."
"What if you went to the Order..." Her voice faded at his pained look.
"And they wouldn't kill me?" he asked bitterly.
She had to concede that point. Even if he returned with her and she told them that he'd rescued her, he wouldn't survive. Harry and Remus would be after blood, and if they weren't, Ron would be. But even if they didn't kill him, it would probably destroy him to find out she'd just been using him.
She must have been looking as grim as she felt because he smiled half-heartedly and said, "It doesn't matter, Hermione. Don't worry about it."
"But I do worry, Peter. I don't like to see you hurting."
He gave her a real smile at that. "You're a sweet girl, Hermione."
She stood up and took his hand. "Let me make you feel better," she said, tugging at his hand, but he shook his head.
"I'm too tired, love."
She smiled coquettishly. "You won't need to do anything but lie down."
He raised his eyebrows in interest, but then shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I really am too tired. All I want to do is go to sleep."
She conceded with an easy smile. "Then let's go do that."
XXX
Potter must be doing something right. I haven't seen the Dark Lord this upset since the Ministry fiasco. I'm surprised Wormtail made it out alive, given the Dark Lord's current temper.
I suppose Wormtail gave the same excuse as I did; the Dark Lord has always had a soft spot for torturing Muggles and Muggle-borns.
XXX
Hermione woke up gradually, not wanting to let go of her dream – no matter how wrong it was. Snape was nuzzling her neck and playing with her breasts, and she didn't want him to stop.
She moaned quietly, and he started kissing her neck, mumbling to her how beautiful she was, how young, how nice, how much he loved her.
That woke her up.
The kissing continued, however, and she found Peter fondling her and leaving a wet trail up her neck. It was almost enough to turn her off, but the dream was still fresh in her mind, and her body was thrumming with the energy.
Deciding she wanted something out of the encounter, she took over. Letting him know she was awake, she kissed him forcefully, nudging him over onto his back while she did so. He rolled over very happily, looking more than pleased when she straddled him.
She smiled right back before closing her eyes and started to tease him. She struggled for a few moments to get herself into an acceptable fantasy before giving up and imagining it was Snape she was straddling, then mounting. She felt him shudder beneath her and felt powerful, knowing she could bring him to his knees at this moment. He wasn't indifferent any more, and his twitching hips proved he was less than impassive. He was hers for the taking.
"Oh, God, that feels so good, Hermione!"
And just like that, her fantasy died. She looked down at the man below her, not sure if she was jealous or disgusted by his obvious enjoyment. His face was open, and his eyes were closed as he relaxed into ecstasy. Disheartened, she looked up only to find herself looking at the indifferent visage of Severus Snape.
He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms and legs crossed casually with his face devoid of any emotion. He might have been staring at a wall for all the expressiveness he was showing. But his eyes were on her.
Excitement surged through her, and she felt the thrum return. She changed her position just slightly so as to give Snape a better view and then rocked her hips. Her eyes took in Snape's form and face; she knew it was wrong, but she could feel her nerves awakening as she watched his cold, dispassionate face.
She watched as his eyes moved over her body without betraying any thoughts or feelings. She watched as his gaze stopped on the point where she joined with Peter, and noticed his nostrils flare just slightly.
She watched as his eyes flicked back to meet hers. He held her gaze for what seemed to be forever, but she broke it when she noticed his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
A surge of energy raced up her spine, and she opened her mouth to pant, knowing she was almost there. She looked entreatingly at Snape, though what she wanted from him, she didn't know. What she didn't expect was for his mouth to open just slightly and for his breathing to quicken. He was still leaning against the doorframe, but he was now tense, and she could see his hands twitching as if he wanted to be the one touching her.
That thought sent her over the edge, and she threw her chest backwards and screamed.
Hard hands grabbed her hips, and she became aware of Peter yelling her name as he, too, came. Out of breath, she looked to the door, but Snape was gone. Exhausted, she collapsed onto Peter's chest, barely listening as he went on about love, devotion and the best sex ever.
XXX
What was I thinking watching something like that? What was she thinking?
I don't think that was just post-coital bliss talking; I think he actually loves her. Is that why she's been out of sorts? Her look wasn't one of simple defiance... Does she—no, best not think about that.
Damn that girl. What am I going to do with her?
XXX
"Bedtime, Granger."
Hermione looked at Snape before quickly diverting her gaze to Peter, unsure whether she was nervous out of fear or anticipation. There were so many ways Snape could make her miserable having seen what he had, but... She didn't think she had imagined his reactions, and she also didn't think it was out of bounds to think that he'd been aroused. But he hadn't acted any differently all day.
Peter gave her an odd look, and she realized she was staring at him and hadn't moved to follow Snape. She gave him a small smile and dutifully headed up the staircase.
As soon as she entered the bedroom, the door closed behind her, and she felt the wards go up. She looked around for Snape and found him lurking by the door, his expression unreadable.
"I imagine that after this afternoon's performance, you must be positively itching for a shower." His voice was sharp and mocking. She didn't know what to make of it, but she nodded anyway.
He strode over to the bathroom door and indicated that she should enter. She did so and automatically followed the morning routine. She had turned on the water before she realized he wasn't in the room with her.
A bit thrown off by that, she stumbled a bit as she got into the shower, recovering quickly enough. She washed herself thoroughly and, when she turned off the water, found that Snape was still not in the room. It was oddly disconcerting to walk over to the towel rack without him looking at her. It also was slightly panic inducing.
What was he up to?
Drying off quickly, she kept the towel wrapped around herself as she left the bathroom. The bedroom was dark already, and she saw that Snape was in bed. Disappointment and relief spread through her, though she was appalled to find the disappointment overwhelming the relief.
Cursing herself for her muddled emotions, she quickly made her way to her cot, spreading the damp towel out over her bed frame before ducking under the covers. It was the first time she had been nude in her cot, and it was an odd feeling.
She lay there in tense anticipation for several minutes until she was sure nothing was going to happen. Finally, after Snape started snoring, she managed to relax and slowly drifted off to sleep.
XXX
She looks very peaceful like this. She almost looks like the child I remember, not the siren she's become. Almost.
I want to touch her. I want to have her surrounding me while I make her scream the way she did this afternoon. I want her to look at me like that again.
I know I shouldn't, but I do.
I can't risk it. Not now that we're so close.
I really can't.
XXX
Hermione woke suddenly, the feel of a foreign hand on her stomach bringing her to instant awareness.
A shadow was by her bed, and for an instant she thought it was a Lethifold raising itself up before smothering her, but soon her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she saw it was a man kneeling beside her. Snape. He had pulled back her covers and was gently running his hands along her body, barely touching her skin.
Her gasp of awareness stilled his hands, and she could feel him looking at her, even if she couldn't see his eyes.
"You are my prisoner." His voice was rough, but very quiet. His tone was indecipherable, but she heard it as a threat.
"Yes, I am."
"My word is law." His hands rested upon her more firmly. She started trembling, though she still wasn't clear whether it was from desire or fear.
"Yes, it is."
He moved his hands along her body, this time with a firm touch, though it was still gentle.
"You will obey me or suffer the consequences." One hand had found a breast while the other was on her thigh, threatening her crux. She felt herself moisten, but still couldn't distinguish fear from arousal.
"Yes."
His hands moved, teasing her with their proximity, but not touching the sensitive areas. She squirmed, trying to get stimulation, but he withdrew completely. She bit back a whimper.
He leaned over, putting his mouth next to her ear. "Tell me, Granger," he whispered, "when your fingers smell of sex in the morning, who did you fantasize about?"
"You," she whispered back before thinking.
"And tell me, was it Wormtail's cock that made you come, or was it having me watch you?"
She whimpered before whispering, "You."
He let out a ragged breath just under her ear, sending shivers down her neck. "Who do you think of when you let Wormtail inside you?"
She closed her eyes in defeat before whispering, "You."
"What do you want right now?"
She could hear her voice trembling when she breathed, "You."
Suddenly, his mouth was on hers in a frantic, needy kiss. It felt as if all the indifference, all the mocking, all the violence had been hiding a growing need that was now near desperation. It was almost violent, it was so overwhelming, and it was not what she wanted. She wanted to tell him to stop, but she was afraid of what he'd do if she did.
He continued to kiss her hungrily as he moved up onto the cot. He lay down half beside, half on top of her, continuing to ravage her mouth while his free hand calmly slipped between her thighs and found her sweet spot.
She cried out, surprised and pleased that while he was kissing her like a teenager, his fingers were well trained. Her cry quickly became a moan as he demonstrated how skilled he was. Just as she was about to climax, though, he withdrew his hand. This time she didn't bother hiding her whimper.
He moved his mouth to her neck and started nibbling it delicately as he shifted over her. When he was positioned at her entrance, he lifted his head to look at her – almost as if he was asking for permission. She smiled mockingly at herself for even thinking such rubbish.
Just after she smiled, though, he slowly eased into her, not stopping until their hips met. She released a shaky breath and was surprised when he did as well. She could feel his eyes boring into hers and, even though she could barely see them, she was awed by the intensity.
He started rocking his hips gently and whispered breathlessly, "Tonight, when you stripped for your shower... For weeks now... Every time... I've wanted you... Tonight, I couldn't look at you without... Every day since I found you in bed with Wormtail... I've thought about what it would be like to touch you, feel you... to fuck you... and I've wanted to kill him for—"
He stopped speaking suddenly, lowering his head to nuzzle her neck.
"For what?" she asked, starting to tremble under his ministrations.
"For doing what I wouldn't," he said, stopping his movements abruptly and raising his chest off of her. He was watching her, but the darkness shadowed his thoughts completely.
"What do you want?" he asked out of the blue, his tone somber rather than seductive as it had been before.
She stayed silent, thinking only of freedom, but not daring to voice that. He lowered himself back onto her and gifted her with another soft kiss, as if he was trying to coax the answer out of her. It started out almost chaste, but he started teasing her lips with his tongue and teeth until she allowed him in. His kiss grew in desire, but it wasn't the fierce need he'd attacked her with before.
When she moaned quietly, he gently rocked his hips, making her gasp. He broke off the kiss to lower his mouth to her ear.
"Tell me what you want." He rocked his hips again, making her moan in pleasure and anguish.
"Knowledge. I want knowledge."
He chuckled darkly. "Of course you do, but what do you want to know?"
"Everything," she whispered, moving her hips to meet his.
"Tell me," he said, continuing to slide in and out of her slowly and gently. "Tell me what 'everything' entails." He then descended on her neck once more.
"I—I want to know your caresses and kind words." He began to stroke her hair again before moving a hand down her body, almost tickling her with the gentle touch.
"I want to know how to pleasure you." She felt him smile against her neck, and he hummed contentedly as he slid back into her, breaking the gentle rhythm to push into her as far as he could.
"I want to know if you could ever be pleased with me, and if so, what sacrifices do I have to make?"
He stopped moving and lifted his head to look at her.
"Hermione..." His voice was surprisingly soft, much softer than she'd ever heard it before. It made her angry and very, very sad. It also made her brave and careless. She shook her head slightly and could feel her throat closing with tears.
"I want to know how you could betray us. I want to know how you managed to fool him."
He was tense now, and she tensed in reaction, waiting for the blow that was sure to come but refusing to look away. She was very surprised when he didn't hit her, but answered.
"Betrayal comes slowly, covertly, changing one thought at a time until your mind has rationalized that what you're doing is the right thing, or if it's too reprehensible for that, then it's the only way, and there's no point in resisting."
She was still tense when he raised his hand, and she flinched when it moved toward her face. He stopped moving for a moment before slowly resuming the path he'd taken till his hand was gently cupping her face.
"Spying is betrayal, and it wields truth as its weapon. It's easy to manipulate people into believing you when what you say has the ring of authenticity.
"This is war, Granger." His voice was still soft, but she could hear a bitterly sharp edge underneath. "Right and wrong lose meaning as we search for ways to win. By the end, it's usually difficult to tell who the enemy really is."
He rubbed his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the fresh tears. He then leaned down and kissed her again.
"I wish I could make it easier for you," he murmured, lightly resting his forehead on hers, "but I can't. I can only help mask the pain temporarily."
She closed her eyes as the despair grew, overtaking her heart.
"Help me. Please," she begged, her voice thick with tears again.
He paused and then lowered his head for another kiss, almost as if trying to soothe her broken spirit with his lips. He started moving once more but let her set the pace. It wasn't long before she was panting beneath him, straining her body to meet his. She could feel the energy build within her, pulsing in a manic rhythm till she could barely stand it.
Snape's pace became more demanding, reacting to her body's pleas for more. She could feel his excitement growing in tandem with hers until he was straining to stay in control.
"Is this better?" he growled between heavy breaths. "Is this what you want?"
She groaned her approval, unable to articulate.
"Good," he replied, his voice brittle with tension. "Now come."
And she did. The energy burst through her like electricity, forcing a scream of pleasure from her as her body convulsed from the shock. She felt him surge within her and cried out again and again as he lost his battle for control and sought his own release.
After what was both an eternity and an instant, the feeling passed, leaving them breathless and sweaty. She was aware that he was still on top of her and in her, but she found the invasion of his weight utterly appropriate and oddly comforting. It wasn't long before she found herself yawning and drifting off to sleep.
XXX
Oh, fuck. What have I done?
XXX
"Wake up, Granger."
She sat up instantly, forgetting her lack of clothes until her brain caught up with her body. She pulled up the sheet to cover herself automatically before she remembered the events from the night before. She looked up at Snape with a smile that withered at his look of cold fury.
"You are my prisoner." His voice was cold and threatening.
She nodded hesitantly in confusion, not sure why his demeanor had changed so radically. "Yes, I am."
"My word is law."
She nodded hesitantly again. "Yes, it is."
He moved forward until he was looming over her in his most dominating pose. She found herself leaning away from him as far as possible, unnerved by the malevolence radiating off of him.
"And you have not obeyed me, so you will suffer the consequences."
Her eyes went wide as she reviewed what she had possibly done recently that could warrant punishment. Before she had a chance, however, he pulled her roughly from the bed and then pushed her face first onto the floor. She tried to get up, but his boot came down on her back, preventing her from moving.
"You disobeyed me last night, Granger."
Hermione focused on remembering the night before, and there it was. She had asked him two questions. She stopped struggling against his boot, going limp in defeat.
"Yes, sir," she whispered.
"It's all very well and good that you can admit it, but that will do nothing to lessen your punishment."
She nodded her head in acceptance, scraping her forehead against the rough carpet. Suddenly his boot was gone. She rested where she was for a moment before turning to look at Snape. Before she could turn more than halfway, however, she heard him hiss, "Crucio!"
Pain exploded throughout her body, and she felt as if her body was trying to split itself apart. All her nerve endings were burning in the fire, dampening all her other senses. She felt blind and deaf as the spell ravaged her body.
She had no concept of time and felt as if it had been hours of hell he'd put her through by the time he lifted the spell. She lay on her back, panting and twitching, vaguely aware that she was crying, but knowing it was pointless to try and stop.
Snape came into her field of vision, his face hard with hatred.
"Next time, I won't be so lenient. Now get up."
Hermione struggled into a sitting position but found her body was being less than cooperative when it came to standing. She heard Snape huff in impatience, and she had to work hard to repress the rising panic. She was trying to obey him, but her body just wasn't letting her.
Suddenly, his hands were on her body, and he was lifting her up to her feet. She tried to struggle, but he merely tightened his grip. She let out another sob, not knowing what was coming.
"Hush," he murmured softly. She didn't know if it was an order or not, so she tried to calm herself, despite the dreadful feeling of having been torn apart from her heart out.
Without another word, he half walked, half dragged her down the hall to Wormtail's room. Without bothering to knock, he blasted the door open and shoved her into the room.
Wormtail was already at attention, giving her a worried glance before looking to Snape.
"Better take her while you can, Wormtail. She's been a naughty little girl, and you won't be getting her back after I return." He then conjured his work robes and was gone.
She wanted to be strong, she didn't want to show Peter how terrified she was, but Snape's parting words shredded what little hope she had left, and she collapsed by the bed in tears.
"Are you alright?" Peter asked, rushing over to her and taking her into his arms. "I heard you screaming, and I... What did he do to you, love?"
She was still shaking from the curse and the betrayal and was unable to answer.
"What did he do to you?" he repeated, tightening his grip on her protectively.
The real concern and anger in his voice brought her mind back into gear, and she thought of what Snape had told her about how he used the truth to manipulate people. If she hadn't been so miserable, she would have smiled at the irony of using Snape's advice against him.
She felt her throat constrict again at the thought of Snape and vowed more fervently than ever that she would get out or die trying. If using Peter was the only way, then she would use Peter, no matter how wrong it now felt.
"He... he..." She was suddenly glad she was so distressed. "He wanted me to... he wanted me. Wanted to... I was so powerless... He... so terrible."
Peter's arm tightened painfully until she whimpered, when he hastily relaxed.
"Don't worry. I won't let him hurt you again. I'll protect you."
She laughed, but fortunately it sounded hysterical even to her ears. "He's going to kill you, Peter! I'm sure of it! He just Crucioed me, and I'm sure his next punishment is going to..." She hiccoughed miserably. "He said he wanted to kill you."
"I'll just get to him first," he said with an odd note to his voice. She looked at him and saw his expression was murderously pale.
"Peter, he's gone to see Voldemort," she said, grabbing his robes for emphasis. "He saw us yesterday. He knows how you feel about me – how I feel about you."
Peter's expression faltered at that. She could see fear and panic seize him, but then he looked at her and something changed. He set his jaw stubbornly and took a deep breath.
"Well then, I guess I've got to get you out of here."
"What?"
"I know the password, and I can get us out of here. I'll take you to your friends; you'll be safe there."
She could almost taste the freedom, but there was too strong an undertone of guilt to make it sweet.
"What about you? Voldemort will be after you." She knew she shouldn't be pointing it out, but she found she didn't want him to die. She didn't want to be the death of him.
But he just nodded his head and scratched his arm, the stubborn set to his jaw firming. "My life is forfeit anyway, Hermione. At least this way I can try to make-up... I can save at least one person I love.
"After you're safe, I'll make a run for it. I'll get as far away from here as possible. I'll lure them as far away from you as possible."
Hermione found herself unable to say anything for a long moment as tears of genuine gratitude gathered.
Exhaling a shaky breath, she asked, "Are you sure?"
"Positive." His looked turned mean. "I'm not letting him hurt you ever again if I can help it."
Hermione looked at Peter with new eyes and felt sick to her stomach. She was condemning this man to death by using his love for her against him. It was wrong. It was terribly, terribly wrong. And it was the only way for her to escape. If she didn't go, everything would blow up in her face. Either he would find out she'd been using him and would kill her, or Snape would... would torture and kill her. At the very least, Voldemort would find out eventually, and both she and Peter would die horrible, painful deaths.
Tears overcoming her again, she nodded.
"We'd better go now," Peter said, taking her hands and helping her up before digging out a robe for her to don. "I don't know when Severus will be back."
She nodded again, slipped the robe over her head and leaned against him as they made their way downstairs. At the front door, he stopped and said, "The password is 'traitor.' The trick is to really feel it, like with Apparating. Do you think you can do that?"
She almost laughed at the grim irony. "Yes, I think so."
He extended his real hand. She took it, and he gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. "Let's go."
XXX
She escaped.
The Dark Lord will not be happy about this. He'll be even unhappier that Wormtail successfully defected. I almost pity Peter.
She did it, though. She's gone!
XXX
Hermione looked around for a moment, dazedly taking in her surroundings. It seemed so surreal and dreamlike until a voice pierced the bubble.
"Hermione?"
She turned around to find Ginny sticking her head out her window. She smiled up, hope finally bubbling up to the surface.
Ginny smiled back, disbelief and hope warring on her face. She disappeared from the window, but Hermione heard her yell, "MUM! DAD! HERMIONE'S OUT FRONT!"
Hermione couldn't help but smile as she heard several crashes and a dull bang, and suddenly seven people were on the front step. Ginny and Molly and the twins somehow managed to restrain Harry and Ron while Arthur came rushing forward, his face a muddle of emotions.
He stopped a few feet away and looked at her apologetically. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but--"
"Don't worry, Mr. Weasley. I understand you need to ascertain my identity first."
"Sounds like Hermione to me," Ron commented to Harry, who just elbowed him in the ribs.
Arthur relaxed a little and smiled. "What's your favorite book?"
She smiled. "Well, Ronald and Harry would say it was "Hogwarts: A History," which I do find fascinating, but I think my favorite book is probably the little cookbook Mrs. Weasley gave me just after the wedding, knowing that the boys are completely hopeless with taking care of thems--"
She was cut off by seven people hugging her fiercely. After lots of joyous noise and hugging and Molly's crying, they all finally gave her a bit of room, except for the boys.
They looked at one another awkwardly before Ron gave in and swooped Hermione into his arms, swinging her about happily.
"I didn't think we'd ever get you back," he said thickly after putting her back on the ground.
She looked up at him and gave him as happy a smile as she could muster, but thought, You didn't.
She was a traitor now.
XXX
She was trying to concentrate on the meeting, but she was finding it difficult. She'd had trouble concentrating ever since she'd escaped, and it bothered her. Her mind kept wandering back to Snape and why he'd tortured her. There had to be a reason, didn't there? He couldn't just be completely evil, could he? The way he'd made love to her... He couldn't be evil. Evil wasn't capable of such tenderness.
They – Ron, Harry and the rest of the Order – had asked her what had happened, and she'd explained most of it, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to mention that night. She hadn't really explained how she'd managed to get Peter to release her either, just telling them the basics of her plan while conveniently leaving out the sexual seduction. Despite of, or perhaps because of, her vagueness, she knew by the grown-ups' looks that they knew. She hadn't been able to look Remus in the face since. She didn't think Harry had guessed what she had done, but the way Ron had been hesitant to touch her afterwards, she suspected he had figured it out.
That thought scared her more than anything.
But as for Snape... She'd told them how he'd humiliated her, how he'd subjugated her, how he'd Crucioed her, but she couldn't, just couldn't tell them about their night together. She didn't know if she felt it would be betraying him or herself, Harry or Ron, but whichever way, she felt enough of a traitor without adding that bit. As it was, Harry and Ron were both seeing red.
Her stomach roiled with worry and guilt again, and she impatiently concentrated on keeping the bile down. She knew there would be physical symptoms to go along with her stress, but she needed to get over it. There was a war to win, and she damned well wouldn't be lying around sick for the rest of it. She'd been enough of a hindrance already.
A startled word brought her attention back to the meeting just as an owl landed on the Burrow's table in front of Harry. It had a rather large package attached to its leg.
Harry took out his wand and untied the package magically, making sure that he didn't touch it. Hermione had never seen him so cautious before.
He and a grim looking Moody worked on the package, casting every known revealing charm on it until they were sure it was safe to open. Hermione was surprised when Ron then took the package and was the one to open it. He saw her looking at him quizzically and smiled.
"We developed this strategy after they... while you were gone. Harry doesn't touch any letter or package any-more, and we each take turns opening strange letters and parcels." He shrugged and cut through the twine binding the package with his wand, then looked up at her again and smiled ruefully. "It's my turn."
She nodded worriedly, crossed her arms across her stomach and started rocking reflexively while she watched him open the package. As soon as the box was open, his smile disappeared in horror, and he looked back up at Hermione.
Everyone craned their necks curiously, although no one strayed from their seats. Harry was looking at Ron impatiently, but Ron kept his attention on Hermione. He frowned and then gulped before levitating a silver arm out of the box.
Hermione felt herself go white and was suddenly very glad to be sitting down, as she felt quite woozy.
"Mum!" Ron called out, pointing to Hermione. Molly, who was sitting beside Hermione as usual, quickly put her arms around Hermione's shoulders, steadying her until her breathing was a little slower and her dizzy spell had passed.
Hermione tried to get control of herself, and before long, she was able to smile shakily at Molly in thanks, although the older woman didn't let her go. She just adjusted her grip into a hug, offering Hermione a sympathetic look.
Meanwhile, Ron had opened the letter addressed to Harry and was silently reading it, going from red to purple to white. When he'd finished, he looked down into the box with a scowl, even as Moody took the letter from his hand.
Moody grunted his displeasure when he read the letter to himself and then cocked an appraising eye at Hermione before reading the letter aloud.
Hermione, however, wasn't listening. Her whole attention was on the letter Ron was handing her. She'd seen him take it from the box and try to open it, but it refused to cooperate. She took it with a shaking hand, instantly recognizing the spiky lettering that scrawled her surname across the parchment.
Taking a deep breath, she opened it and started crying when she read the single line:
It was the only way.
AN:Okay, time to thank everyone, Oscar style. First off, thanks to Orm Irian whose wonderful story really did inspire me. Thanks to ashfae, who provided a bit of inspiration on Peter's character when I was having a huge amount of trouble writing him. Her story, "Wormtail," on fictionalley is an excellent little character study. Thanks also to Mundungus42 who was really curious to see what had me so troubled and convinced me that at least one person would be able to bear the squick.
A huge thanks to everyone who reviewed. You have really made my month! And finally, thank you SouthernWitch69 for being my best beta.
You all rock!
