Come," He grabbed her hand roughly and began to pull her from the ballroom. His annoyance apparent in his tone and the way he sneered at her. The night was over and everyone had begun to slowly file out. Leaving Severus, Lucius, Draco, and Narcissa behind as an awkward silence shrouded over them heavily like a thick fog.

Narcissa was royally pissed off that Lucius had purchased the girl with the condition Severus was to share her. She didn't care if she was in a loveless marriage, but for him to do it so blatantly in front of her was maddening.

Draco was seething at his father who, in his mind, deliberately purchased the girl to gift to Severus so she would be gone from his son's life and not tarnish the Malfoy bloodline.

Severus wasn't angry nor was he happy, he was just impassive. On one hand he got the little bitch that he wanted without even spending a galleon of his money, but on the other hand she was a gift, an expensive gift, and if he felt like he no longer wanted to be cinched to the little slut, it would be rude of him to dispose of her.

Then came the problem of the children the Dark Lord desired. The last thing in the world he wanted was to be the sire to some snotty nosed little bastard brats running around with his name attached to them. He would have no desire in the world to marry the girl but somehow, he knew he would have no choice. By some divine act of Voldemort, he would enforce it upon him claiming the children would be stronger, or the children would harbor more power from the vows that their parents shared. He just knew deep down that he would think of something to make his life more of a fucking misery than he had already made it lately.

And what would the little trollop do when he had to go away on his extended trips away that the Dark Lord had ordered him to think about taking soon to the United States to infiltrate MACUSA and worm his way in with them to find out the ins and outs of the way they ran.

He just knew Draco would move in, whisper sweet nothings into her ear and fucking a child into her. And then, he would be left wondering if he was the father or not until the unfortunate wretch was born into a world so cold, and so full of hate to a position of dread and certain death it should be illegal.

He knew that by Lucius buying the girl, and gifting her to him, he still had a claim to her and as such, so did Draco. Sure, he didn't mind sharing the Harlot with them, but at the same time, he didn't exactly want to fuck her if she became damaged goods.

And if the three of them ended up fucking her…. They would all have to wait and see who the unlucky sod was that shot the winning load into her. It would be easy to tell if he was the father, but how were they going to differentiate between Lucius and Draco?

Hermione would be lucky to survive with Narcissa around if she caught wind Lucius was sinking his sausage into her bun. She would poison the girl and make it look like an accident. Then if Lucius caught Draco playing hide the hotdog lord only knew what he would do. It would be ok is Lucius got the little slag pregnant because he had Draco to continue the line, but to wipe out the purity of the Malfoys completely by Draco fucking the girl… That was a whole different cauldron of potions.

She ran alongside him, taking two steps to his one stride, as he led her down a long hallway on the lower floor. She trotted along obediently and she could tell by the tightening grip on her wrist he was irate.

"So where exactly do you live now?" Her breath husky, panting trying to keep up.

"Here, Hogwarts, My house, anywhere." He bit. "Wherever the fuck I feel like living."

Flinging open a door at the end of the hallway he dragged her roughly into the bedroom. Slamming the door hard behind them he pressed her roughly against the now closed door, slamming his lips so hard to hers it almost knocked the breath out of her lungs.

Hungrily his lips fought hers in a battle of desire and need. He forced his tongue into her wet, moist mouth, tongues fighting a rough battle. He ran a hand over the back of a thigh and up the swell of her ass, grabbing tightly and squeezing. She let out a moan of pain in protest but he never wavered from the hot kiss of hatred and desire they were sharing. Snaking his other hand up the front of her opposite thigh it came to touch the hot sticky blood he had been the cause of. She winced hard against him, the cuts deep and painful and still bleeding had almost been forgotten in his desire to get her to his room and fuck the little chit unconscious.

Grabbing her wrist hard he dragged her to the bathroom that was off the large, expansive bedroom. Hermione was sure every room around here was almost identical save for a color change here or there.

Lifting her up onto the edge of the bathroom vanity her bare thighs hit the cold white marble hard, letting out a mewl of surprise in response.
She watched as he grabbed a white cloth beside her, wetting it was warm water, he began to run it over her left thigh, cleaning up the blood so he could at least get a view of the damage he had done and what he would need to heal it.

"You didn't have to cut me so deep," She hissed in pain as he ran the wet cloth over her thigh a little too angrily.

"And you didn't have to try to kill me, but here we are."

"You had it coming to you. Is that what you are so angry about?" She sniffed.

"I am always angry, Miss Granger and the sooner you realize that, the better. And pray to tell me how I had death coming to me at your hands."

"You didn't have to hurt me, and I wouldn't have gotten angry."

"You have a temper you need to reign in. If you want to go around killing people because they were ordered to duel you, you have some serious issues you need to work out. The way you executed those curses were nothing short of amazing. I think deep down, Hermione Granger, the goody-two-shoes bitch has a desire for dark magic lurking just under the surface of her perfect persona."

He kept meticulously working on her legs, cleaning them up to reveal two very long, deep slits beneath the sticky blood. His warms hands rested on her thighs for a moment as he cast an eye over the wounds wondering the best way to treat them.

"I'm hardly perfect."

"No, you are far from it, but you try to come across as perfect. You worry so, what others think of you but you always have a tough façade up when deep down inside you are falling to pieces. The way you handled yourself tonight was interesting, to say the least. You had them eating out of the palm of your hand as if you were one of them. The Dark Lord has taken to you as well; he can see you will be a valuable asset to him. You hate not being in control of everything and everyone around you and I know that this situation is killing you deep down. To not be able to control your life right now will slowly drive you crazy."

She watched as he reached up into a cabinet behind her and pulled out a jar with a healing salve. Dipping three fingers into the jar he brought a good-sized potion to her left thigh, gently touching her cut he spread the salve in as she winced in pain, her breath stuck in her throat.

"Draco likes you,"

"So it would seem."

"You bring something out in him. Courage perhaps? I have never seen him have such blatant disregard for his father as he did this evening."

"Probably because I told him he can take control of his own life."

He snorted.

"Draco's petulance's could rival even yours, Lolita. He is immature and he is childish, without his parents and what they have afforded him, he would probably be dead by now. Giving Draco advice like that is like trying to tell a toddler to leave home and get a job. It is redundant and it just won't work. Draco needs control in his life."

"I don't think so. I think Draco is capable of being more than what you all see on the surface."

"I've seen more to Draco than just the surface. He isn't as complicated as you seem to think he is."

Silence.

"Don't mistake Draco's weakness towards you as kindness," He warned darkly. "Draco doesn't do kind, Draco wouldn't even know the meaning of the word if it were underlined for him in the dictionary. Draco see's a pretty girl and he loses his mind and his wit. He is only vying for your affection to help himself and nothing more."

"And why are you being so kind towards me?"

"Don't mistake this as kindness, Miss Granger. Don't mistake anything nice I may do to you as kindness, with kindness comes weakness and I am not weak. I'm only helping you right now because I don't want your blood all over me as I fuck you into the mattress. Like you had dreamt about in your deepest, darkest fantasies that you kept as secrets locked up tight."

"I don't have secrets,"

"No?"

"None."

"You never kept anything Secret from Potter and Wesley?" He looked accusatorily at her, his hands smoothing over the cuts on either thigh which had now become nothing more than thin, white scars.

"Nothing."

"That's a lie and you know it. I'm sure you didn't tell them about your deepest, darkest desires to bone Draco and I, Lolita? I'm also sure they are keeping secrets from you."

"What's that suppose to mean? Are they keeping secrets from me? My friends are dead. How can dead people be keeping things from me."

"Sorry for the innocent slip of the tongue. I meant to say I bet they kept secrets from you."

"An innocent slip, or a Freudian slip?"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment as his hands slowly wandered from her scars, smoothing his palms up her thighs; she shuddered involuntarily at his touch. Fingertips tracing soft circles on her creamy white thighs, a cold chill ran down her spine, Goosebumps erupting over her soft white skin in response to his tender touch.

"Innocent," he murmured, his lips peppering hot kisses along her soft thighs. Her lids closed in a moment of pleasure; soaking up the attention he was offering her but her mind ran a mile a minute. When did Severus Snape ever slip up? He was so very well schooled in the art of deceit and lies it didn't seem plausible he hadn't intentionally said it.

She tried to push the thought to the back of her mind and concentrate on what was happening but a niggling feeling wouldn't stop gnawing at her.

She grabbed his chin and tilted his head up to look at her. "Are my friends really dead?" She asked with trepidation in her voice. He lowered his gaze from hers.

"I told you, Miss Granger, they are dead. I made an innocent slip of the tongue and there is nothing more to it," He growled deep in his throat, adding a sneer to his face for good measure.

"Now, if you don't mind I am going to fuck you senseless tonight whether you like it or not. All night you have taunted me and teased me and now I will rightfully take what is mine. He pulled his chin from her grasp and pressed his lips hotly to her own, running his hands back up the length of her thighs.

"And don't go thinking because I am fucking you I am falling I love with you. Don't ever expect love from me. Don't ever expect anything from me and you won't end up disappointed. Just set your standards rock bottom, that way nothing will disappoint you. I don't love and I don't do touchy-feely. I don't want to hold hands and I don't want you looking at me with doe eyes when you think you have fallen in love with me because I have fucked you. Don't ever think this will be any sort of normal relationship because it isn't. Don't expect me to sit with you at the dinner table and we talk about our day over a hot meal or you tell me what milestones the children have hit because I honestly won't give a fucking toss about those unfortunate beings I shoot into you on occasion. "

She bit her tongue hard, so she didn't unleash a tirade of sharp and hurtful words towards him. Her eyes welled with tears and her heart hammering against her chest hard. How could someone not love their own children? Was he that much of a monster that he couldn't love something he had made so dearly. That he would feel he would do anything to protect them. Was he really as cold and heartless deep down below in his core as he was on the surface?

His hands kept tracing soft light circles on her thighs, she was warm to the touch and her skin was so very smooth. He could tell she liked the touch but the harsh gaze he was now under told him she wasn't impressed with the cold truth's she was being told.

"And as such, you are not my equal. You have no right to talk down to me or to disrespect me, in essence, I own you, you are my slave and I can do to you anything in which I feel like. And there is not a fucking thing you can do about it. If I want to fuck you, I will. If I want to strangle you to shut you up, I will. If I want to aim my wand at you and afford you the same hostility you did earlier I fucking will. You have no say in anything as of now. You will do as I say when I say. There will be no back talking or petulance. There will be no disrespect in any way, shape or form."

He was seething again. White-hot anger raced through his body as he gave her a talking to and trying to force her into her place. He knew she would never bow down to him, not without a fight. Hermione fucking Granger couldn't be roped, saddled and bridled into submission easily. Her spirit had to be broken first, and he knew deep down he could easily do it. He could easily break the fucking little shrew and have the perfect, fuckable little salve he had always dreamt about having. To have her pussy at his every beck and fucking call would be more than ideal. He was getting hard at just the thought of it right now.

Hermione's eyes raked over the man. He was loosening off his belt, blushing she looked away as he unfastened the pants pulling them roughly, they were stuck to the blood on his own thighs, finally getting them free they pooled around his feet on the tiled floor, his underpants going with them.

She tilted her head slightly to look. She didn't want to look but at the same time it was like a car accident, you know you shouldn't look but you really want to anyway.

Her cheeks flushed crimson. His Legs were white, almost stark white, her gaze moving up his legs, small smatterings of black hair littered the skin. She finally reached his penis and gawked at it awkwardly. In its erect stage, it was quite large and she balked at the thought of having that deep within her hot core.

"No, Miss Granger. There has been an Engorgio charm placed upon it." His lips twitched up into an evil smirk as he grabbed the same cloth he had used to clean her up with, soaking it with warm once again he wrung it out in the sink, taking to his own legs.

The cuts were deep, but not as deep as the ones he had left on her. He was used to being hurt and cleaning himself up. The wounds and curses she inflicted on him were nothing new, they weren't the first and they would not be the last. Although, perhaps the Cruciatus curse she offered him was one of the best he had ever been on the receiving end of.

She mulled over his words. Maybe, perhaps she would have been better off with Draco. At least he offered some sort of civility instead of seeing her as nothing more than a cheap commodity to do with, as he liked.

Her heart was tight in her chest as the realities of the night were slowly sinking in. She was trapped here, she couldn't leave, the world as she once knew it had ended. She had no one. She assumed no one knew she was alive, and if they did they wouldn't just come waltzing through the doors to save her.

No longer was she Hermione Granger, part of the Golden Trio. Best friend to Harry and Ron.
Now she was just Hermione Granger, slave to Severus Snape and broodmare for the Dark Lord.

She choked out a strangled sob as tears fell quickly down her cheeks. He winced at the sound, he hated seeing a woman upset and crying, it was almost his undoing.

He ignored her increasing sobs as he healed himself up. How the fuck was he meant to fuck her if she was bawling her eyes out like a fucking little princess.

Discarding the rest of his robes onto the floor he slowly moved his way over to her. Sliding an arm under both legs and one around her back he easily lifted her lithe frame into his embrace.

She sobbed hard against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against her own, the beat of his heart and the rhythm of his breath. He gently placed her on the bed, on her back.

He really needed her to shut the fuck up so he could get on with the job. The crying was really off-putting to him.

"Shhh," He purred into her ear, pressing a long bony index finger to her lips. She stiffened at his touch and the breath on the nape of her neck. "I'll make it all better," he mewled as he ran a hand between her thighs, sliding an index finger beneath the elastic of her panties and into her soaking wet, hot core.

She let out a gasp in surprise, spreading her legs slightly to allow him better access.

A/N: Annnnd now you all have to wait for the rest of that deliciously smutty scene that I am offering you all. The more reviews I get, the more inspo I get to keep writing hint, hint

I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it.

-Aliasmel1