Inside the Blackest Heart Part 9
"Hold it right there!" shouted Jonsten, and all four Death Eaters fired stunners at the masked imposter, who spun with amazing speed and blocked all four blasts simultaneously. But when he issued his shield, his glamour dropped for a moment, revealing who he was.
"Oh shit! It's Dumbledore!" cried Heustus, diving for cover as the Headmaster's glamour went back up.
"Merlin's balls!" yelled Franklin, pressed behind some garbage cans, firing over the top of them in Albus' general direction, "No one said it was him we'd be fighting! Damn!"
Dumbledore was livid. He had been found out, which meant someone knew his plan to kill the Grangers, and they were being protected by Death Eaters! That could only mean two things. Miss Granger was under Voldemort's influence and Snape had betrayed him. The Headmaster sent a powerful blast toward the garbage cans, sending Franklin and the cans flying.
All around the battling wizards, doors opened and heads peeked out, only to withdraw quickly as their blasts flashed, exploded and ricocheted.
Joel and Jonsten were pressed on the side of the flat, aiming blasts at the Headmaster, which he easily blocked. Albus shot back a powerful blast that tore a chunk out of the wall as the Death Eaters ducked back.
"We're going to be killed," Joel panted at Jonsten, "We can't capture Dumbledore! He's too powerful."
"We just need to keep him from killing the muggles," Jonsten gasped, peeking out to see where the wizard was. A blast caught him and he fell to the ground, blood pouring from his face.
"Shit!" Joel said, looking down at his dead comrade. He pressed himself against the wall.
Albus shielded himself and quickly walked back to the streetlight. It made no sense to kill the Grangers now. Hermione had already turned against him irrevocably. That much was assured when her parents' home was guarded by Death Eaters. And Severus was the only one who could have possibly set up such an arrangement. Albus had to deal with Hermione before she went to the Dark Lord and gained her full Primordial powers. If she would not serve the Order, then she would serve no one. He apparated back to Hogwarts with a clap of thunder.
Hermione stopped writing.
"Professor Snape, something's happening. Something bad. Very bad," she said, rising from her chair.
"Hmph?" the Potions Master said sullenly, still pissed Hermione had known his intentions.
Hermione walked over to the chair.
"Professor, something bad is coming. We've got to get ready. We have to leave," she said, her voice growing panicked.
The Potions Master took one look at Hermione's face and stood up, his buzz rapidly disappearing. The witch was frightened to death it seemed. Had Albus made his move?
"Get dressed, Miss Granger," Snape said, "Use magic."
Suddenly Hermione stood before him fully dressed in robes and traveling cloak, a small carry-all bag in her hand. And she hadn't moved. Her powers were coming under her control.
She looked down at herself.
"I didn't think about it. It was the need, but I felt the power rush through me," she said.
Snape checked the ward on the study. He turned to face the witch.
"Are you sure this spell of yours will work, Miss Granger?" he asked her, his black eyes hard.
"Yes. I set it to fifty wards. If it is the Headmaster, he can blast through them but they will still slow him down," she said, "Can we go now?"
"No," the Potions Master said, looking at the witch, "We must be certain Albus is coming for us. It would make no sense to go to the Dark Lord if we do not have to."
Hermione walked over to the armchair, and sat down on the very edge of it, looking at the Potions Master nervously.
All they could do is wait.
Dumbledore apparated in front of the Hogwarts gates with a clap of thunder. This woke Harry, who had been dozing. The Boy Who Lived stood up and watched as the Headmaster dropped his Death Eater glamour, and unwarded the gates. He stepped through and rewarded them. He started across the grounds at a swift pace.
Harry followed him.
"Headmaster!" he called.
Albus stopped and spun around. He scowled as the green-eyed wizard ran up to him.
"Harry! What are you doing out here?" the Headmaster asked him, trying to hide his ire. Blast the boy!
"I saw you leaving and I followed you. What are you doing, sir? Why were you dressed as a Death Eater?" he asked, frowning at the Headmaster.
"I was doing some work for the Order, that required such a disguise Harry. Sometimes I also participate in undercover work," he said to the young wizard.
Harry looked at him sharply. He could tell the boy didn't believe him.
"Tell you what, Harry, walk with me and I'll tell you about it," the Headmaster said benignly.
"All right," Harry said. But he still had the distinct feeling something wasn't right.
"So where were you when you saw me leaving, Harry?" the Headmaster asked.
"By the dungeons corridor. I was on my way back to Gryffindor Tower," Harry replied honestly.
"I see. Doing some late night run-about with your invisibility cloak, eh?" Albus said, smiling at the wizard.
"You could say that sir," Harry replied. "So tell me about…"
"Obliviate!" Albus cried, hitting Harry with the memory spell wandlessly. Harry crumpled.
"Sorry, my boy, but you've seen too much tonight," the Headmaster said, levitating Harry's prone body.
Albus floated the unconscious young wizard before him as he approached the castle. He would leave him at the entrance to the dungeons. He'd have no memory of what he had seen. Damn the nosy boy. Why were all his charges becoming so rebellious? Well, as soon as he dropped off Harry, he'd go take care of Miss Granger. Her death would be a shock to all. It was a shame really. She could have helped him so much…made his plans so much easier. She would have made him the greatest leader that the wizarding world had ever seen. But he couldn't let Voldemort have her.
Albus walked up the castle steps and cast a disillusionment spell on himself and Harry, and cautiously opened the main doors. No one was about. He opened the door wider and floated the shimmer that was Harry inside, across to the dungeon entrance and lowered him to the floor. He removed the disillusionment spell. Harry would be out for a couple of hours. More than enough time to do what he needed to do. The Headmaster hesitated, then turned down the dungeon corridor, keeping his disillusion charm. Before he dealt with Miss Granger, he'd take care of that traitor Snape.
If the Potions Master thought Voldemort had given him pain…
Albus approached the Potions Master's office, and found a simple ward protecting it, which he quickly disabled.
"Alohamora," he said, unlocking the door.
Quietly, he turned the handle and entered the Potions Master's office. Pity. Snape was an insolent, unlikable, traitorous bastard, but he had been one of the best Potions Professors in the history of Hogwarts. He would be hard to replace. But he would be.
Albus approached the bookcase and pulled the tome that opened the study. It didn't open. The study was warded as well. Albus removed the ward and pulled the tome out again. It still didn't open. Albus checked again. Another stronger ward was in place. The Headmaster glowered. He removed that ward as well, and found another stronger one in its place. Snape knew he was looking for him. Furious, Albus stepped back and let out a powerful blast that shook the Potions office, and the study within.
"SEVERUS!" he roared
Inside the study the Potions Master calmly looked at Hermione.
"That's our cue, Miss Granger," he said as another powerful blast shook the study. He offered his arm, and Hermione took it nervously.
The Potions Master stood there.
"Why aren't we apparating?" Hermione asked as the study was shaken by another blast.
Snape looked down at her.
"I just want to see his face," the Potions Master replied, his black eyes glittering as he watched the study door.
There was another blast that blew the wall out. Albus stepped through. Hermione had never seen the Headmaster look so frightening. His lips were drawn back from his teeth in a horrible snarl, and his brow was furrowed in rage. His blue eyes, the same eyes that twinkled so merrily at her were full of hatred…and death.
The Headmaster paused in surprise as he saw Hermione on the Professor's arm, cloaked and with a carry-all bag in her hand. Snape's black eyes met his, and the Potions Master's lips curled in a slow, taunting smile.
"NO!" Albus screamed, lunging forward desperately and throwing a blast as the pair disapparated. It hit the fireplace, blowing out a chunk of stone.
"No!" Albus said, dropping his head. They were gone to the Dark Lord's domain.
Voldemort sat on his throne listening to the two surviving Death Eaters tell how they thwarted the attempt on the Grangers' lives. The Dark Lord was delighted when told who the assailant was.
"Dumbledore? He tried to kill the Grangers himself? Oh, this is too, too rich. He has practically placed the Primordial in my hand! Quick, bring me a pensieve!"
Voldemort had summoned a select few of his Death Eaters on the return of Joel and Huestus. He figured Hermione would be arriving with Severus soon, and he wanted to make a show of power for the witch. He had transformed his normally bleak and empty throne room to a place of opulence, with tapestries, silks and ornate furniture.
A Death Eater quickly rushed up to the wizard, and falling to his knees with his head down, handed the wizard a small bowl. The Dark Lord rose from his throne, descended it and walked up to Joel and Heustus, who bowed their heads. Voldemort extracted their memories, depositing them into the bowl. When finished, he mounted his throne, sat down and place one long, reptilian finger in the silvery liquid, his red eyes shifting as he watched their experience. He laughed out loud with delight when Dumbledore's glamour fell, revealing him, a wide lipless smile spreading across his face. His tongue flickered out when he finished.
"Excellent!" he said to the two Death Eaters. "You have done well. I do not have any muggle women to offer you…" he said, frowning slightly at the two wizards
"…because we have suspended our Dark Revels for the time the Primordial will be staying with us. I plan to create another location for that sport, never fear my Death Eaters, never fear. For now you may select any female from among our ranks to reward yourselves with. Only do not use your enhancement magic on them, and do not beat them to the point they cannot serve me. Restraint gentlemen. Restraint. Now go, choose who you will."
"Thank you my Lord," both men intoned. They turned with narrowed eyes and began to move through the crowd of Death Eaters, eyeing the women lustfully, their eyes roaming up and down their bodies. Some of the women were married, but that made no difference. All were in service to the Dark Lord, he was their true husband, and they obeyed him faithfully.
Joel's eye fell on Narcissa Malfoy, who was standing next to her husband Lucius, who narrowed his eyes discretely at the Death Eater to warn him off without attracting the Dark Lord's attention. Joel ignored him, parted Narcissa's cloak, and lifted her robes, checking out her long legs. He looked at her cold, proud face, and plainly saw disdain in her ice-blue eyes. He caught her by the hand.
"You'll do," he growled, smirking at Lucius, whose hands were clenched into fists. The pureblood trembled with rage. But there was nothing he could do. The Dark Lord had given them free reign of the women. Narcissa looked at her husband, then obediently followed Joel, who took her to a silk-cover divan, laid her down on it, and began opening her robes.
"Crucio!" Voldemort said lazily, hitting Joel with a short burst of the curse. The Death Eater spasmed for a moment, then the curse stopped. He stood there gasping, looking at the Dark Lord.
"Not here, you idiot. The Primordial will be here soon. I don't want her walking in on your naked ass pumping up and down. Take her to one of the backrooms," Voldemort lisped.
Joel nodded, pulled Narcissa off the divan and walked through a side door, Lucius watching them depart with red-rimmed eyes. Voldemort looked at him.
"Now, now Lucius. Surely you wouldn't deny Joel his reward?" he said softly to the blonde-haired wizard.
"No, my Lord," Lucius replied, bowing slightly.
"She won't be any worse for wear when she returns. You should be proud that she renders such service in the name of your Lord," Voldemort said.
"I am, my Lord," Lucius replied.
"Good, Lucius. I would hate to have to punish you for selfishness," the Dark Lord said.
Lucius paled a bit. "No, my Lord. That will not be necessary. I willingly share whatever I have with my brothers," he said.
Voldemort nodded. His red eyes flickered around the room. His Death Eaters were in full regalia, standing in mass to the right and left of his throne, leaving an aisle down the middle. They looked impressive. Over a thousand strong.
"Has the Primordial's rooms been prepared?" he asked.
"Yes, my Lord," a squeaky voice piped up. Peter Pettigrew shouldered his way through the crowd and bowed low. "It has been set up with a bedroom, a living room, full bath and shower, and a well-stocked library."
Voldemort eyed the rat-like little man. "How about servants?" he asked.
"Two house elves, my Lord," Peter simpered with another quick bow. He was such a groveling little snit.
"Very good, Peter," Voldemort said, dismissing him. He disappeared back into the crowd.
"Now I am reminding you all one last time that there are to be no derogatory remarks about muggles or muggle-borns in the Primordial's presence. Those who disobey this directive will suffer my wrath. Is this understood?" the Dark Lord hissed.
Echoes of "Yes, my Lord" rang through the throne room.
"Later, you will be allowed to test her. But for now she is to be treated as a guest. All will be on their best behavior."
Again echoes of assent were heard.
Voldemort suddenly stiffened.
"They are coming!" he said excitedly. The Dark Lord straightened his splendid green and silver robes, and sat up very straight in his throne, holding his wand like a scepter.
Snape and Hermione apparated with a clap of thunder at the end of the aisle.
"Remember," Snape hissed, "Curtsey, kiss his hand and do not under any circumstances react to his appearance. Address him as "my Lord".
Hermione clutched Snape's arm so tightly, she was cutting off his circulation as they walked up the aisle toward the tall, lean figure sitting on the throne. They stopped in front of it.
"Allow me to introduce Miss Hermione Granger, my Lord," Snape said bowing.
Hermione curtsied as instructed, then looked up at the wizard. She fought back a gasp at his snake-like appearance. His skin was covered by thin scales, though still flesh. His nostrils were slits, and his lips so thin he appeared lipless. She could discern no ears. He was also hairless.
"Approach me, Miss Granger," Voldemort lisped. Tentatively she moved closer to the throne. Voldemort stood and descended. He moved fluidly, almost gracefully as he approached. His red eyes searched her face.
"Lovely," he lisped, looking over at Snape, his eyes slitting slightly in approval.
He looked back at Hermione.
"I am honored, Primordial," he said, lifting her hand and pressing his thin lips to it. Hermione suppressed a shudder.
"Thank you for your kindness in protecting my family, my Lord," Hermione said. She did mean it.
"I am glad I could assist you in your time of need, Miss Granger. You are welcome to dwell with me as long as you like," he said, "You are under my protection and shall come to no harm here. You are beyond the reach of Dumbledore," he said, giving her a toothy smile.
"I thank you, my Lord," she said, giving another slight curtsey.
"Your rooms have been prepared. I imagine you are very tired. This has been a trying day for you. You will be escorted to your rooms for the night. On the morrow, we shall chat," the Dark Lord said, motioning to a female Death Eater who stepped forward. She approached Hermione, who looked at the masked woman with a bit of apprehension. She lowered her hood and removed her mask. She was lovely, dark-eyed and dark-haired. The woman smiled.
"My name is Delilah. Allow me to show you to your rooms, Miss Granger," she said politely.
She gestured toward a door, and she and Hermione walked through it, Hermione fighting the urge to look back at Snape. As soon as the door was closed, Voldemort turned to Snape.
"You have done well, Severus. Well indeed. You have made up for all my disappointments in you. You are indeed my most loyal and trusted servant," the Dark Lord said, then raised his scaly eyebrows. "And a most fortunate wizard to be bedding such a lovely witch. She is quite delicious. You must let me see you doing her via pensieve one day."
"Certainly, my Lord," Snape replied, bowing, "It would be my pleasure."
"I would like to reward you, Severus. As I told Joel and Huestus, I have no muggles available, due to the arrival of Miss Granger, but you may have your pick of any of our females, if you like….that is if you have not been sated by the Primordial," the Dark Lord said with a leer.
Snape turned and looked at the many women. All of them were smiling at him. He was the Dark Lord's favorite now. Well, he had wanted a blowjob.
"Thank you, my Lord, I believe I will indulge myself," he replied. He looked over the women, and his eyes fell on one who had very full, lush lips. He crooked a finger at her, and she approached him, smiling. She stood in front of him for a moment, looking him in the eye. The Professor's eyes flicked down then up again.
She lowered her hood, removed her mask and dropped to her knees.
Hermione sat on the edge of the beautifully carved king-sized four-poster bed Voldemort provided for her comfort. Her rooms were quite nice. She had a living room and a separate study/library. Her bathroom was huge, with a sunken marble tub and several scented spigots, and a large enclosed standalone shower. She checked the titles in the study and found some interesting ones about magical theory, spell work and potions, even a few muggle titles, which surprised her. Did the Dark Lord appreciate muggle literature?
The female Death Eater Delilah had brought her to the rooms, showed her about and offered to help her bathe. But there was something in the woman's eyes that made Hermione decline. Delilah attempted to persuade her as she took Hermione's cloak and started to unbutton her robes for her, her dark eyes shining excitedly. Hermione caught the woman's hands and told her she would undress herself and that she was fine now. Delilah had looked very disappointed when she exited Hermione's room. Hermione, on the other hand, breathed a sigh of relief when the Death Eater left. Delilah was giving off signals that Hermione wasn't ready to receive. As far as the Primordial knew, she preferred men sexually, and wasn't ready to experiment with a woman. Plus sex was the last thing on her mind. Until she suddenly received an image.
It was a quick vision of Professor Snape standing in front of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, his fists wrapped in the hair of a woman on her knees. He was driving into the woman's mouth roughly, his head tilted back, eyes closed with pleasure as everyone watched, approval evident on all their faces. He moved faster, let out a silent shout and stiffened, looking down and jerking the woman's face flush to his pelvis, grimacing from his release. The crowd cheered and the vision faded.
"What a twisted bastard," Hermione snorted. "Fucking exhibitionist." But she felt a twinge of jealousy and fought it back. Snape could not even be considered her lover. She didn't know what he was. A shag-buddy? No, he was nobody's buddy. She pushed him out of her mind.
Hermione removed her robes, pulled the white t-shirt beneath over her head, and then stepped out of her sweatpants. Apparently her magic had dressed her for comfort. Hermione noticed the wardrobe and walked over to it. Inside were beautiful dresses in her size, all rather low cut and shimmery. Probably what Voldemort liked to see women in. She would wear one tomorrow for him. She'd decided to try to stay in good graces with the wizard. She pulled out the drawer and it was filled with lingerie, pretty matching bra and panty sets, and silk nightgowns, both short and full length. She picked one up and rubbed the fabric against her cheek. It felt smooth, and delicious against her skin. She removed her underthings, walked into the bathroom and used the shower. The showerhead had little dials on it, where scent could be released into the spray. They even had jasmine scent. Hermione adjusted it, and took a long wash. When she stepped out of the spray and dried herself off, she felt invigorated. She wondered if the water had replenishing potion integrated into it. She slipped on the nightgown and as the silk dropped over her flesh, she felt delicious sensations shoot through her body. It seemed the nightgown was charmed to feel extra good against the skin.
Hermione realized that she felt a little puckish. As soon as thoughts of hunger hit her, two of the saddest looking house elves she had ever seen winked in.
"Hello Miss. I am Hansel and this here's Gretel," the brown house elf said, gesturing to its green companion, "We will be serving you during your stay with the Master."
Hermione looked at the elf.
"You don't speak the elf dialect, Hansel," she commented.
"No Miss. Gretel and I have never associated with other house elves, only humans, Miss. So we don't talk like them."
"I see," said Hermione looking down on the dismal pair.
"Why do you look so unhappy?" Hermione asked the elves. They both looked at each other, rather frightened.
"We are proud to serve the Dark Lord, Miss," piped up Gretel, who look stricken at her question. Hermione understood. They probably lived a miserable existence here. Sympathetically she reached out a hand to pat the house elf, and the creature drew away as if she were going to hit her.
"Gretel, you don't have to be afraid of me," Hermione said softly, "I wouldn't dream of hurting either of you. I like house elves, though I think you should be paid for your work."
Both house elves looked up at her, suspiciously.
"House elves are never paid for their work, Miss. They are slaves," said Hansel. Hermione thought she detected a bit of bitterness in the elf, though she had never heard an elf call itself a slave. They always referred to themselves as servants.
"I know one. His name is Dobby. He is free and works in the kitchens of Hogwarts for pay," she said to the elf, who looked excited for a moment. So did Gretel.
"He is free?" Hansel asked, his brown eyes glistening.
"Yes," Hermione replied.
The elf looked wistful for a moment, then frightened that he had shown that emotion to Hermione.
"Don't worry, Hansel. Everyone has dreams. It isn't bad to want to be free," she said, and she caressed his head lightly. The elf's eyes closed in pleasure and he rolled his head beneath her palm, as Gretel looked on, her green eyes shining.
"This Miss is not like the others," the elf thought.
Hermione stood up.
"Are you my servants?" she asked the elves.
"Yes Miss, as long as you are here," Hansel replied, bowing. He looked a little less unhappy now.
"Well, you will not be mistreated by me, ever," she said to the elves. The creatures actually smiled. Everyone abused them. Hermione was the first to say she wouldn't.
"Yes, Miss," the elves said in unison, looking at each other and back at Hermione, eagerly now.
"What can I bring you, Miss?" Hansel asked, almost trembling to serve the witch.
"Can I get two ham sandwiches with lettuce, tomatoes and mustard? And a glass of cold pumpkin juice?"
"Certainly Miss," Gretel replied, curtseying. Both winked out.
Several minutes later they returned with Hermione's food, and set it on her night table.
"Do you need anything else, Miss?" Hansel asked.
"No, I'm fine now. Thank you so much," she replied.
The elves both quivered with joy.
"What?" Hermione asked before biting into her sandwich. She was starved.
"No one ever thanks us," Gretel said.
"Well I will. I appreciate your service," Hermione responded, smiling at them, "now good-night."
They quivered a little more at this declaration and winked out.
Hermione finished her meal and was about to turn in when her door opened and the Professor walked in.
"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Hermione said irritatedly as she slid under the silk sheets.
The Professor walked over to her bed and looked down at her, his black eyes glittering. He sniffed.
"I see they've provided you with jasmine. And quite a room," he commented.
"Yes, the residence is quite nice, and the library well stocked," she responded, then she frowned at him. "I saw you were provided with something 'nice' too."
The Professor looked at her, perplexed for a moment, then he realized what she was referring to.
"Ah, you mean my little brown-haired reward. Yes, she was quite proficient," he replied, smirking. "You seem a little jealous, Primordial."
Hermione sat up, scowling at him.
"I am not jealous. Why would I be jealous of a black-hearted exhibitionist like you?" she spat.
The Professor actually grinned, although a bit unpleasantly.
"If it is any consolation to you, Miss Granger," he purred silkily, "She was nothing compared to you." His black eyes grew hot at the memory.
Hermione blushed. She couldn't help it. She felt a little pulse of warmth between her legs. Damn him.
The Professor looked at her and licked his lips.
"I came here to ask you if you would like me to spend the night with you. It was the Dark Lord's idea. He wants to make sure all your 'needs' are met. He said to tell you that you have your pick of Death Eaters to indulge yourself with, if you develop a taste for something 'different.' Snape said, a slight frown on his face.
He didn't care about Hermione per se, but he was like most men, territorial. He was the one who broke her in, after all.
"You don't like the idea of me having sex with other men, Professor," Hermione said with a smirk.
"You can shag whom you like," he replied, looking at her blackly. If she wasn't under the protection of Voldemort, he'd take her right now, whether she wanted it or not, the cheeky twit.
"So do you want me to stay?" he asked, hoping she would say yes so he could knock a new hole in her.
Hermione looked around the room, then smiled evilly.
"Yes. Yes I do want you to stay," she said looking up at him.
The Professor quickly began to disrobe, his eyes hard as he looked at her.
"Right there in that armchair," she finished.
Snape looked at the plush armchair pushed against the wall.
"What?" he said angrily.
"I want you to spend the night in the armchair and watch over me. I am in a new place and I feel out of sorts. Your presence will make me sleep better," she said sweetly.
"I will not sleep in an armchair!" he said, scowling at her.
Hermione crossed her arms and scowled right back at him.
"You WILL sleep in that armchair, or else I will complain to the Dark Lord you refused to do what I asked of you," she responded smugly.
Snape fought the urge to wrap his hands around her neck and choke her to within an inch of her life. She had him, and she knew it.
"In fact, I want you to come here every night and watch over me," she said vengefully.
"You are an evil bitch," Snape snarled, stalking over to the chair and sitting down in it, looking as if he wanted to hit her with the Killing curse.
Hermione smiled at him.
"You must be rubbing off on me, Professor," she smirked, "now dim the lights. I'm going to sleep."
Hermione made a large production of snuggling down into the comfortable bed, while Snape shifted around to find a comfortable position in the armchair. He was too long for it. He waved his hand at the torches and they dimmed.
"Good night, Professor," Hermione's voice floated over to him, full of sugar.
"Fuck you, Miss Granger," Snape snapped.
He'd get her for this.
Hermione woke well rested. She stretched in a cat-like manner, feeling her blood rush through her veins. Her nightgown shifted against her sending pleasant sensations throughout her body, culminating between her thighs. She groaned. That felt really good. She turned her head. Snape was bunched up in the armchair, his head at an odd angle. He looked very uncomfortable. She knew he'd be achy and in a black mood when he woke. She shifted again, and again her nightgown titillated her. She bit her lip and looked over at Snape again. Her mind began to work. Being a guest of Voldemort's put the Potions Master under her power. He was duty-bound to obey her wishes. She was feeling randy, and her thoughts shifted back to when he was being pleasured by the female Death Eater. Hm. He didn't have a problem letting a woman service him…
"Professor! Professor, wake up!" Hermione called over to the sleeping wizard.
Snape slowly opened his eyes. They were bloodshot. He shifted in the armchair, then sat up, rubbing his face with his hand. He stretched, then winced. He glared at Hermione.
"What is it?" he growled.
"I want you to pleasure me," Hermione said, looking at him with smoky eyes.
Snape looked at her, a hard expression on his face. Yes. He'd pleasure her all right. He'd ride her so hard her back would crack. He stood up and began unfastening his robes.
"That won't be necessary, Professor," Hermione purred, sitting up against the headboard and throwing back the covers.
He stopped and looked at her.
"What do you mean? How am I supposed to do you if I don't undress…unless you want the quick version," he leered, his hand dropping to his fly.
"No…I don't want that. I want you to pleasure me orally," she replied, spreading her legs a little.
"What?" the Professor sputtered, "what about me?"
"What about you? You can go shag a Death Eater for all I care. Now come pleasure me, now," Hermione said, her amber eyes slitting.
Snape's nostril's flared.
"You wouldn't want me to tell Voldemort you weren't 'cooperating' would you?" Hermione said with an evil leer of her own.
"You fucking, power-mad little chit," Snape breathed, "I should have left you to Dumbledore."
"Should of, could of, would of. Get over here," Hermione said, enjoying her power over the irate Potions Master.
Snape was livid. Never in his life had he been under the power of a woman. And certainly never forced to pleasure one without reciprocation. Hermione was taking advantage of him in a very Slytherin-like manner, and the way she was doing it was giving her total control. Still, he had to obey her or face the wrath of the Dark Lord. He could fall from favor easily if Voldemort thought he was making the Primordial unhappy. Shit. He had never dreamed Hermione would take advantage of him like this. There was nothing he could do but comply.
He stalked over to the bed, and sat down on it, looking at her blackly.
"You'll pay for this, Miss Granger. I assure you," he growled as he climbed into the bed, sliding downward so he could reach her thighs.
"If you want to run your mouth, Professor, there's a better way to do it," she breathed.
"Bitch," he breathed as he lowered his head and began to service Hermione. She moaned at the contact of his tongue, and wrapped her hands in his silky black hair, tugging on it.
The Potions Master was seething. He hated anyone's hands in his hair. She had been choked the last time she pulled his hair. He tore into her, lashing her with his tongue roughly, sucking on her nub hard. Unfortunately, Hermione was loving it. She was getting off on his application and the fact that she was in control.
"Ooh, yeah Professor," she breathed sexily, thrusting her hips forward. "Do me."
Snape sucked, licked and nibbled on Hermione, beginning to enjoy himself despite being forced. He did love trim after all. It was her control that galled him. He thrust his tongue deep inside her and Hermione shrieked with pleasure, her sleeve clutching at his limber muscle as she climaxed, pulling his hair so hard he felt as if it were coming out by the roots.
He drank her in until her grip on his hair relaxed, and she slumped slightly, her chest heaving beneath her gown. He pulled away from her. He was so hard it hurt. He looked at the sated witch, whose half-lidded amber eyes met his hot black ones.
"Let me do you, Miss Granger. It will be good, I assure you," he growled.
She looked at him heatedly for a moment, but then her eyes went a little hard.
"No thank you, Professor. I'm good. You go off and find one of your little groupies to take care of that," she said, pointing at the tent in his robes.
He grabbed her. He couldn't help himself. His fingers dug into her shoulders.
"You fucking tease," he snarled, "I'm not your gods damned toy!"
"Let me go, Professor," Hermione said calmly, though her heart was pounding.
His black eyes searched her amber ones for a moment, then he let go, roughly pushing her back against the headboard. He stood up and adjusted his robes.
"You better not need me to shag you any time soon, Miss Granger. It would be much safer if you chose another wizard, believe me. I won't forget this," he snarled at her.
"You certainly won't. You're going to be doing it for a while. I'm making it a part of my daily 'wakeup regimen'" she replied evenly. What was she doing? Why did treating him like this make her feel so good?
The Professor let out a stream of profanities, spun and exited the room, his robes billowing.
Hermione grinned after him. She had him by the balls.
Snape stormed into the throne room. Voldemort's red eyes followed him as he stalked over to a group of female Death Eaters. He grabbed one by the shoulders, turned her around and began unbuttoning his robes, muttering to himself as he did so. He opened his robes and quickly unfastened his pants.
The Dark Lord watched with interest as he bent the woman over, pulled up her robes and brutally rammed his enormous tool inside her, stroking her with a vengeance as he muttered
"Bitch! Fucking controlling little chit! Gods damn Primordial!…"
He shagged the shrieking Death Eater violently until he stiffened and came, shouting "Fuck you Hermione Granger!"
He released the woman, scourgified himself, tucked his deflated member back into his boxers, and fastened his pants. He turned to leave.
"Severus, a word if you please," came a familiar high-pitched voice.
Snape turned to see the Dark Lord eyeing him.
"Yes, my Lord," he said, "approaching the throne and bowing low to the Dark Lord, who cocked his head at the Potions Master, amusement in his red eyes.
"You seem a bit out of sorts this morning. Did all go well with the Primordial last night?" Voldemort asked Snape.
"Yes, my Lord," the Professor replied, rather tightly.
Voldemort looked at him.
"Let me see," the dark wizard said, rising from his throne.
"What, my Lord?" Snape asked, hesitating.
Voldemort descended the throne and stood in front of the Potions Master.
"Let me see how your night went with the Primordial. Open your mind to me," Voldemort lisped.
Snape bowed his head.
"Legilimens!" the Dark Lord said. He stood there, resplendent in royal blue and gold robes, reliving Snape's memory of the night before. The wizard began to gasp, then laugh uproariously. He staggered back from Snape and actually doubled-over with hilarity.
The Potions Master stood there stoically, forcing himself not to scowl as his Lord had a laugh at his expense.
After a few minutes, Voldemort straighten and wiped the tears from his red eyes as he weakly mounted the steps to his throne.
"So, the Primordial is lording her position over you, Severus. How delightfully delicious. She has a very pretty little lovehole, my boy. Tasty too by the way you went at her," Voldemort said.
Snape didn't reply.
"Do not feel badly, Severus. You too have your service. And right now it is to keep her happy in the manner she wishes. If she is not kept happy, I will be very displeased," he said warningly.
"Yes, my Lord," Snape replied.
"It will get worse before it gets better, Severus. Her gowns are charmed to inspire sensuality. And this entire domain reeks of fleshy desire, lust and fulfillment of every carnal need. It seeps into everyone in its influence. Changes them slowly. Makes them pleasure-oriented. Why else do you think all my Death Eaters are so randy, Severus? So ready to participate in the revels? You are all slaves to the flesh. The Primordial is susceptible too, until she comes to full power. Hopefully she will develop a taste for things carnal that will remain in her psyche before then. In the meantime, she will become more demanding, more controlling. Her own pleasure will be her first priority. So be prepared to take care of her every need, Severus…unless she chooses to consort with others…" the Dark Lord's voice trailed off.
Voldemort's red eyes glittered. He wouldn't mind indulging Hermione. She was going to be the most powerful witch in the world. As far as the Dark Lord was concerned, he was the most powerful wizard. It irked him a little that she chose Severus, who was nothing but a servant. He was not used to being denied pleasures, but in the Primordial's case…he needed to exercise restraint. In a few days, after being immersed in the aura of sensuality of his realm, she might acquiesce and give him a taste of her charms. But for now, Severus had to meet her needs.
"I notice she has a very cruel streak. A darkness of her own. I want to develop that aspect of her, Severus. Take every opportunity to reinforce it," Voldemort said.
"Yes, my Lord," Snape said. Gods, he was in trouble. Hermione was going to get worse. There was no telling what humiliations the witch would put him through. He hated this. It was like he had acquired another Lord, just as he got rid of Albus. Life just wasn't fair.
"Go to her, Severus. Tell her I would like her to join me for breakfast in an hour," the Dark Lord said, flicking his hand at Snape in dismissal.
"Yes, my Lord," Snape said bowing, and heading back to Hermione's rooms.
Gods, this sucked.
A/N: More to come.
