"What did Snape want?" Ron asked Hermione over breakfast.
"He just thought that Katie and I were friends and wanted to know if she had been acting weird or anything," Hermione lied.
"You didn't come back, though," Harry said.
After faltering for a moment, Hermione sighed, "I went to the library after and was working on the paper Slughorn assigned; I didn't get to bed until about three this morning."
Truthfully, she hadn't come back at all, but had fallen asleep in Snape's bed to the sound of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Hermione smiled to herself, the night replaying in her mind and the touch of Snape's fingers when he had traced them down her arm that morning to wake her, brushing his lips on hers; she couldn't think of a better way to start a day.
"Oh," Ron conceded, "Guess that makes sense."
Harry frowned at the girl, "But I mean, how long did it take for you to tell Snape that you didn't know Katie?"
Hermione fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater, "Oh, just a minute, but then he said that if I had touched the wrapping on the package, I could have gotten some…I don't know what he called it, but basically, some magic can linger in things it touches, and if I had touched the paper, it could have transferred some of the residual magic to me – which would make me very sick – so he said I should take a potion to prevent that. Snape made it, and that took about an hour, so…yeah."
Harry gave her a skeptical look then shrugged. The three friends headed to Slughorn's classroom.
Although she had originally been frustrated with Harry for using the Advanced Potion Making textbook that had alterations to the recipes and techniques – it seemed too much like cheating to her – Hermione decided to just let Harry do what he wanted; she was determined to be there with an 'I told you so'if he got in trouble for it, though. She was, however, very curious as to who The Half-Blood Prince was…
"Don't you care at all whose that book was?" she asked him on their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Harry shrugged, "Not really."
"Why should he be?" Ron asked, "If it's helping him, who cares who this 'Prince' guy was?"
Hermione didn't respond.
The trio entered Snape's classroom; only Luna Lovegood, Lavender Brown, and Pansy Parkinson were in the room, for they were a bit early.
Before the three friends were two paces inside the room, Lavender squealed at the sight of Ron and jumped up.
"Oh bloody hell," Ron sighed.
The girl rushed over to him, flinging her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth to his.
"Miss Brown," Snape approached, "Do you really think that behavior is appropriate? I don't see anyone else insisting on such a display."
"No sir, but neither of them," Lavender looked at the two seated girls, "Is going to kiss Harry."
Harry looked offended, "Hey!"
"Return to your seat, Miss Brown." Snape gave an irritated sigh, "You three, sit."
Ron ducked his head in shame and skirted around Snape.
Hermione looked up at her teacher, "Good morning, sir."
Snape asked, "Are you feeling well, Miss Granger?"
She swallowed and nodded, stunned that he had dared ask in front of others, "Yes sir, thank you; the antidote you gave me last night was wonderful." Hermione smirked slyly at him.
The corner of Snape's mouth turned up.
After the rest of the students arrived, Snape instructed that they read three chapters on Dementors.
Once they had completed the reading, Snape assigned them four rows of parchment on the origins, history, appearance, effects of Dementors, speaking sharply, "While reading text is helpful; you will each practice the Patronus Charm, attempting to produce a full-bodied one in our next class."
Thanks to Dumbledore's Army the year prior, a third of the students could cast the charm rather well, and were therefore not concerned about having to make their first attempt in front of the teacher.
"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" Snape spoke once he was in Dumbledore's office.
The old wizard did not stand from where he was seated behind his desk, "Yes, Severus. Do come in. And close the door behind you."
Doing as he was instructed, Snape was filled with dread and became slightly nervous; he turned his back to Dumbledore to close the office door, preparing and fortifying the barriers of his mind before he looked at the Headmaster.
The men stared at each other for several moments in silence.
Snape grumbled, "I do not have time to attempt to guess what you want to discuss, Albus."
"Sit."
"I'd prefer to stand," Snape replied.
"I'd prefer you sit."
Refusing to take the small chair in front of the Headmaster's desk, Snape merely raised his eyebrows in expectation of a discussion.
"Severus," Dumbledore gazed at Snape over his half-moon glasses, "I sense that you are having second thoughts regarding our…arrangement. I'm merely curious as to what is causing you to reconsider, and to remind you that you agreed."
Through gritted teeth, Snape snarled, "I did, but am I forbidden to change my response?"
"Of course not, my friend," Dumbledore spoke calmly, "But need I remind you what the results of that would be? Should Draco fail in his duty, and you do not take over, the Unbreakable Vow that you made with Narcissa will kill you, and if Draco should happen to have a change of heart, the result would be the same."
"You've conveniently failed to mention that Mister Malfoy may succeed."
"Ah, yes, but you are aware of what toll killing takes on the soul; would you really force Draco to damage his soul in such a way?"
"And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"
The Headmaster did not respond.
"As it so happens," Snape hissed, "Draco volunteeredto murder you; I did not. And I will not. Find someone else."
"You know that's impossible."
Snape raised his eyebrows, "I don't see how that is my concern."
There was a long, empty silence before Dumbledore sighed, "Severus, may I ask you a question?"
"I doubt my objection would prevent your asking."
"I know that you were reluctant to agree to this plan originally, but you now seem to be determined to oppose it; what has changed?"
After hesitating for several moments, Snape quietly asked "What would she think of me, Albus, if I did this?"
Dumbledore frowned, "I'm sure that she would know that it was all to protect her son."
"Not – " Snape started, nearly correcting Dumbledore's assumption that he was concerned about Lily Potter's opinion rather than that of his most infuriating student.
"I hope each of you are prepared to try your hand at the Patronus charm," Snape said to his class of thirty or so Sixth Year students – the last class of the day – the following week.
The class stood; Snape flicked his wand, pushing all of the desks against the walls so that the students had room to practice, "Think of what brings you the most joy, focus intently on it, and, when it has consumed you, speak the incantation, Expecto Patronum. Do not hold your wands lazily, as some of you so often do, for, should you by some miracle succeed in casting a strong enough shield to create a form, you will have to retain a firm grip on your wands as it is expelled from it."
Those that hadn't been in Dumbledore's Army struggled, but nearly were able to cast shields, while most of the members of the rebellious club could cast at least silvery-smoky outlines of a body. Snape strolled between the students, eyeing their progress and snapping at them to hold their wands in a different way.
Hermione was at the edge of the classroom, her otter Patronus playfully swimming around her. Snape watched her for a moment as she laughed and turned in a circle to watch it dance in the air; he faintly smiled.
Clearing his throat quietly, Snape came to her, "Miss Granger, your Patronus is acceptable, however, I notice that it is fading slightly at the edges; soon it won't be able to swim about. Your wand grip is improper."
Hermione looked at him, "I – I'm sorry, sir. How should I be holding it?"
"The appropriate wand grip was described in your reading."
"Oh," Hermione blushed and gave him a mischievous smirk, "I can't seem to remember; I'm sorry. I don't know the right way to hold it; could you show me?"
Snape glanced around the room to see that the students were all practicing the spell, most casting small shields, some full-bodied Patronuses; satisfied that they were too focused on the task to pay attention to what he was doing, Snape nodded and approached Hermione.
Placing his hand atop hers, Snape folded her fingers into the proper position before stepping back to let her cast the charm again. The otter was still diminishing somewhat; Snape frowned before observing, "Your posture is incorrect; one cannot cast a powerful spell if they are not sturdy in their stance."
He came to stand behind her; Snape slid his fingers over her shoulders and squared them, "Feet apart; you need a sturdy foundation."
Hermione shifted to stand with her feet shoulder-width apart; she looked down at her feet to judge her stance. Snape's hand came from behind her, his fingers moved to under her face and lifted it, "Head up, Miss Granger," he let his touch brush against her neck as he pulled his hand back; Hermione swallowed loudly. Snape found it quite thrilling to be touching her when they were not alone; he grazed his hand from her neck and down her side, causing Hermione to shiver.
"It's very important," his hands lay on her hips, "to stand up straight." Snape pulled her hips slightly back, to where she was against his body. "Try the spell again," he quietly instructed into her ear.
"Expe – Expecto Patronum!" Only a few silver wisps came from her wand; Snape was distracting her!
"Tsk tsk, Miss Granger; perhaps your stance is still incorrect," Snape tugged her hips back against him, "Try again."
Deciding to give up on the Patronus charm for the day, Hermione let her focus stray from the trips to Shaftesbury Avenue with her parents and to her night with Snape a week prior.
"Hermione," Snape spoke softly at her ear, "The spell?"
The girl nodded, "Right; sorry…Expecto Patronum!" An otter burst forth from her wand.
"Very, very good."
Hermione sighed, "Especially with you doing your best to distract me!"
His eyes flitting briefly around the room, again looking for any spectators, Snape brought his hand to her neck again, brushing his fingertips on her skin, "No, that was hardly my best," he pulled her hips firmly backward against his pelvis; Hermione whined in her throat when she felt that he was stiff. She cursed herself for being such a trollop, but Hermione hardly thought it was her fault that she wanted Snape every time she saw him, especially considering that he was currently pressing his solid member against her.
The period ended and the class left, Hermione giving a swift line to Harry and Ron about her having to ask Snape a question.
She rounded on the teacher, only halfway-seriously scolding him, "What are you trying to do, Professor? Lose your job? Get me expelled?"
"Certainly neither," Snape replied, "Just having a bit of fun. Teasing."
She sighed, "Well, no one likes a tease that doesn't deliver." Hermione smirked at him.
Snape spoke very quietly, "But I intend to do so, Miss Granger." He pressed himself against her once again before turning toward the door leading to his chambers, casting a quick glance over his shoulder at her as he disappeared within.
Not wanting to seem too eager, Hermione counted slowly to fifty before she followed him. After walking through his sitting area and library, Hermione found her professor, sans cloak, on his bed, leaning back against the headboard, reading. She watched him for a minute or two, surprised he hadn't noticed her. She slipped off her sneakers then climbed onto the bed next to him; sitting back on her knees, Hermione slid the book out of his hands, set it on the bedside table, then sat in his lap, straddling him and passionately kissing his lips.
Snape's hands ran down her sides as she nibbled his lip. Hermione unbuttoned the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt to brush her fingers over his forearms. She pushed the left sleeve up enough to reveal his Dark Mark and grazed her fingers over it; Snape watched her looking at the evidence that he was a member of a club that targeted people like her. Hermione sighed as she watched her fingers moving on the tattoo.
"Hermione?" Snape frowned and pushed her hair out of her face, "Hermione, I – "
The girl shook her head, "Don't. I don't care," Hermione leaned over, lifted his arm, and lightly kissed the skull tattoo, "It doesn't matter."
Snape was rendered speechless; this Muggle-born girl had just said that she didn't care, that it didn't matter that he was part of a group of wizards who hated, tortured, and killed people like her.
He watched her softly kissing his arm and tracing the tattoo for a minute before he barely whispered, "Why? Why doesn't it matter?"
Lifting her eyes to him, Hermione spoke against his tattoo, "Don't be stupid."
Snape furrowed his brow, "Hermione?"
She stopped bathing his arm in kisses and looked at him, "I said 'don't be stupid'; you know why it doesn't matter." Hermione unbuttoned the top several buttons of his shirt, running her hands over his chest as she scraped her teeth on his neck.
"And that is because…?"
"You really don't know? You don't know that I love you? I thought you were smarter than that."
Snape grabbed her face in his hands and attacked her mouth with his; sighing, Hermione relaxed against him to find that he was once again bearing a firm member. She was very glad when he released her face to run his hands up her thighs and under her skirt. Snape wasted no time; he immediately moved her panties aside and pushed his digits inside her well-prepared body, his hand becoming soaked in her arousal.
"Jesus," Snape breathed against her mouth, "I really was distracting you."
Hermione nodded as she rode his hand, kissing him passionately.
Snape grunted as he slid his fingers entirely into her, exploring Hermione's body deeper. He pulled her shirt off with his other hand and unclasped her bra.
Removing his hand from between her legs, Snape growled, "Stand up."
Hermione stood at the edge of his bed and watched as Snape unbuckled his belt and removed his pants. He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled her to him, holding her outer thighs, tugged her skirt off and peeled her panties down; they returned to lie on the bed.
Taking her hands in his, Snape moved her closer to him; Hermione straddled him once again. Fingertips lightly on her hips, Snape guided her down onto him; the student moaned quietly. Snape kissed Hermione's neck as she began to move her pelvis, riding him smoothly. He groaned, running his hands over her back, cupping her breasts, and grazing along her thighs. Snape lay back, watching her body gyrate and rock. His hand grasped her breast while the other rested on the small of her back.
"You are gorgeous," Snape husked, breathing ragged and labored.
He ran his hand up between her shoulder blades and sat up, growling, "Come here."
Hermione rolled her hips and rocked against him, feeling him moving inside her. She moaned his name and gasped for air. Snape took her nipple in his mouth and softly suckled, looking up at her.
Her fingertips, still resting on the tattoo at his forearm suddenly felt as though they were on fire; Snape winced.
"Damn. I have to go," Snape said, "I'm so sorry, so unbelievably sorry. I – I have to go. I can't believe I have to go, now, of all times, but I do."
Hermione got out of her teacher's lap, nodding, "I know."
He hurriedly put his robes back on as Hermione stepped back into her skirt and hooked her bra. Snatching her top from the floor, Snape pulled it back over her head, then used a hand behind her neck to get her hair out of the shirt.
He quickly kissed the girl's lips, "I am so sorry, Hermione; I'll make it up to you, I swear."
The pair rushed out of the dungeons and into the main hall of the castle.
"Be careful, Severus, please."
"Of course," Snape nodded.
Hermione squeezed his hand and stood on her toes to give him a swift kiss.
"I see you've finally learned the value of punctuality, Severus," Voldemort commented before looking at Malfoy, "Last you told us, Draco, you had in place a plan to give Dumbledore a cursed necklace; I would ask how it went, but as we've heard nothing of a dead headmaster, I am forced to assume not well. Why?"
"Well, the stupid girl, Katie, didn't keep it wrapped – she touched it. So she had a fit and was taken to the hospital, and it never made it to Dumbledore," Draco replied.
Voldemort hissed impatiently then asked, "So where is it? What happened to this necklace?"
Shrugging, the boy said, "I dunno. I mean, I think they must've destroyed it, but I'm not sure; I – I'm sorry."
"Draco, you are remarkably like your father when it comes to reliability," Voldemort gave a derisive sigh, "Neither of you seem to be capable of fulfilling a duty. How do you think I should take care of this matter?"
Draco went even paler than usual; Voldemort had killed for less than what he had done. Panicking, he stammered, "All I know is it was inspected, analyzed. Ask Snape; he's the one who did it."
"Oh?" the hateful wizard's gaze fell to Snape.
Nodding once, Snape responded, "I did."
"And? What was done with it?"
"I – I'm afraid I don't know," Snape admitted.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Voldemort questioned, "How could you not know? Did you have something more important to do than to follow my instructions?"
Before Snape could prevent it, Voldemort was inside his head, searching for the evening in question.
Snape watched his memories play out in his mind: he was sitting in his office, grading papers…a House Elf brought him tea…he was scratching lesson plans onto a chart…McGonagall's owl flew in and dropped a note on his desk…Snape was rushing through corridors…
Snape could feel Voldemort's frustration with the uneventful memory.
He was striding quickly down a hallway…McGonagall called out to him…he stood in front of a pedestal on which the opal necklace lay…three students watched on…
Snape felt rather than heard, Voldemort's scoff, 'The Irritating Scarheaded Orphan Who Keeps Escaping'
The woman professor was questioning the Boy Who Refuses to Die, his red-haired idiot of a friend and a girl… The Boy Who Refuses to Die accused Malfoy…Snape was ridiculing the Boy…the students were leaving…Snape was leaving…
"I daresay you spoke very little in way of defending young Malfoy here, Severus," Voldemort spoke, without exiting Snape's memory, "Why did you not stay and collect more information about what was to be done with the necklace?"
Snape was rummaging through a cabinet of potions…Snape knew where this memory headed, and desperately tried to shove the Dark Lord out of it.
"Why is this memory one you don't want me to see?" Voldemort asked.
Snape was in his library with the female student from earlier…Snape stood at the edge of his bed while the girl sat on the bed and unzipped his pants…
"Oh, dear, Severus," Voldemort raised his eyebrow, "What is this?"
The girl was licking and sucking on Snape…he removed her shirt and climbed on top of her…he slid his fingers into the girl…Snape was tasting her…then he was inside her…
"This girl," The Dark Lord said, "She is a student?"
Snape didn't respond, but Voldemort had seen enough to know that he was right.
"I hope you have given her grades a boost…"
Snape's silence spurred another question, "Or was she…inadequate?"
"N – No, My Lord," Snape replied.
The other Death Eaters were all looking on in confusion.
"It seems unfair, Severus, my friend," Voldemort spoke, "A favor should always be returned."
"What's goin' on down there?" Fenrir Greyback asked from the other end of the long table.
Slapping Snape's back as though he were proud of him, Voldemort said, "It seems Snape has found an extracurricular activity…Apparently, he has taken a student to bed. And I was under the impression that you were unlucky when it came to women. Although, it is easier, I'm sure, to find a partner when you're giving them better grades…"
The Death Eaters seemed impressed by Snape's conquest and, at the same time, amused by the implication that he had to bribe women to sleep with him.
"There is no need to increase her grade," Snape said, "It just so happens that she is top of not only her class, but of the entire year; her grades cannot possibly be raised."
"Granger?!" Malfoy exclaimed, "You slept with Granger? The know-it-all? Are we talking about the same girl? The Mudblood?"
Voldemort took his hand from Snape's back as though he was diseased and looked at him in disbelief, "You took Mudblood filth to bed? Is this true, Severus?"
Snape hated himself for what he was about to say, but Hermione's life depended on his response, "I did. I slept with her. I have lain with the girl, My Lord, but I assure you it was merely a tactic to gain information."
Fenrir asked, "So are you saying you took no pleasure in it?"
"Of course he isn't!" Yaxley said, "He's a man, right? She's a woman – well, girl – and a man likes to fuck any woman, Mudblood or not, it don't matter; she's just a hole to fuck, isn't she? And a tight one I bet…what is she? Sixteen? Fifteen?"
Amycus Carrow joined in, "The younger, the better, to be honest. You got a First Year girl to fuck up at Hogwarts? I'd be very interested to meet her when we invade the castle at the end of the year, very interested…"
"Are you implying that I have had intimate relations with an eleven year old, Carrow?" Snape spat, disgusted, "And did you ask me if you could meether? – and I'm certain of what you mean when you say meet."
Amycus laughed condescendingly, "I'm sure you don't know what I mean, Severus; as a matter of fact, I doubt you've even heard of some of the things I'll do to her."
Snape swallowed the bitter anger rising up in his chest and said dismissively, "My apologies, Carrow; she is nota First Year. She is in Draco's year – sixth; I'm guessing that makes her too old for you."
Sneering, Carrow replied, "No, Severus, I said I preferthe little ones, not that I wouldn't defile an older one just the same, because I would…and believe me, I will."
Snape didn't doubt Amycus even the slightest; he was as cruel as Voldemort, but preferred different methods of torture than The Dark Lord. Snape had to keep Hermione safe, but he had no clue how he was going to manage that.