Inside the Blackest Heart Part 10
Harry arrived at Dumbledore's office within minutes after McGonagal woke him to tell him the Headmaster required his presence. He had a cold feeling in his stomach that this was about Hermione. He wondered if the Headmaster knew his Potions Master was shagging the Head Girl under duress. He knocked on the door.
"Come in," said a tired voice.
Harry entered Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster was sitting behind his desk. He looked old and tired, as if life had finally beaten him down.
"Are you all right, Headmaster?" Harry asked, taking the armchair in front of Dumbledore's desk.
"I am not all right Harry. I am afraid I have some bad news for you about your friend, Miss Granger. I wanted you to hear it from me before it spreads throughout the castle," the Headmaster said.
"What about Hermione?" Harry asked, his heart tightening in fear, "She's not dead, is she?"
Dumbledore shook his head.
"No, though she is dead to us in another sense, my boy," the Headmaster said softly.
"Tell me! Where is Hermione?" Harry said impatiently, his voice hoarse with worry.
"Professor Snape has taken her to Voldemort," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes dull.
"Snape! That bastard! I knew he couldn't be trusted…now he's kidnapped Hermione and taken her…" Harry began raging. Dumbledore stopped him.
"No Harry, I'm afraid she wasn't forced. Her room was checked this morning and many of her things were gone. She packed them. We can only assume Harry, that she went with him of her own free will, and has switched allegiances," Dumbledore said.
"No! Hermione wouldn't do that!" Harry yelled at the Headmaster, "Don't you say she'd do that! She'd never join the Dark Lord! Never!"
Dumbledore looked at him sadly.
"Harry, the Potions Master and Hermione had more than a teacher/student relationship. They were lovers…" Dumbledore began
"You knew? You knew Snape was shagging her and you didn't do anything about it?" Harry hollered at the wizard, "You didn't try to stop them? Why didn't you fire him?"
The Headmaster sighed.
"Harry, I confronted them both. Professor Snape refused to leave her alone if she continued to want him. She is the age of consent, so he couldn't be faulted. I also talked to Hermione about how unsuitable the relationship was. She didn't agree to stop seeing him, although she said she'd think about what I said. My hands were tied Harry. We can only assume that Severus convinced her to abandon us and join Voldemort. She was young and impressionable, and Severus is a master at persuasion. The combination of persuasion and intimacy must have been enough to send her over the edge," Dumbledore said, shaking his head.
Harry dropped his head into his hands in despair.
"No. This can't be true, there has to be something else, some other reason she's gone to Voldemort," he said, his voice muffled.
"There is no other reason I know of Harry. Now that she is with him, the Order itself is compromised. She knows the location of Headquarters, the names of our members, some of our undercover operatives, many of the spells we've developed to fight his evil. Voldemort now has the advantage," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid Miss Granger is now our enemy, Harry and as such she has been added to the list of Voldemort supporters we must track down."
"No! Hermione's no criminal. You have no proof she's done anything! She might be planning to take Voldemort out," he said rebelliously.
"I highly doubt that Harry. Miss Granger is brilliant, but she hard has the means to destroy the Dark Lord." Albus said, studying the young wizard and wondering how much he knew.
Harry hesitated, then looked at Dumbledore, his green eyes narrowed.
"You know she is a Primordial, Headmaster. She was going to leave you for a year after graduation to stay with her parents. I think she was scared you wouldn't let her go because of her developing powers," he said, looking at the Headmaster challengingly.
"But I already gave Miss Granger my blessing to leave," Albus said. "I didn't try to keep her here against her will, Harry. I would never do that."
Harry looked at him.
"You keep me at Headquarters all summer against my will," he said bitterly.
"You are a target, Harry. Voldemort would attempt to kill you the moment you left my protection. And then, there's the prophecy. We need to protect you, my boy. The restrictions on you are for your own good," the Headmaster said reasonably. "Your situation is much different than Hermione's."
"Hermione's situation is more important than mine, Headmaster. She's a Primordial. She will be the strongest witch in existence. She will be able to destroy Voldemort when she comes to full power. She could even rule the wizarding world herself and no one could stop her! No wizard. No army of wizards. You really expect me to believe that you would have let her go out on her own for even a month, much less a year? She is more important than anyone else in the wizarding world, Headmaster!" Harry yelled at him.
Dumbledore looked sad.
"I would have let her go home, Harry. You must believe me. But that is neither here nor there now. Voldemort has her and will use her powers against us if we don't do something about it, and soon," he said.
Harry looked at him, dawning realization on his face.
"What do you mean by 'something?'" Harry said, darkness falling across his face.
Dumbledore didn't answer him.
"What do you mean by 'something?'" Harry yelled at him.
"Miss Granger cannot be allowed to come to full power. We have to launch a full offensive against her and Voldemort as soon as possible," the Headmaster said quietly.
"Against Hermione? You want to kill her!" Harry screamed, leaping out of his chair, falling over the desk and grabbing Dumbledore by his robes.
The Headmaster remained outwardly calm as the boy gripped his robes. Inwardly he was fighting the urge to blast the impudent pup to wriggling pieces. But he needed the young wizard
"Harry, she is with the Dark Lord now. She is polluted and a danger to the wizarding world. We have to stop her before she becomes unstoppable," the Headmaster said, staring into Harry's eyes. "It's the only option we have."
Harry's eyes filled with angry tears. He released the Headmaster.
"It's not fair. You don't know for fact she's turned," he said.
Dumbledore met his eyes.
"But we can't take the risk, Harry. I'm sorry," he said.
"No you're not," Harry muttered.
He turned and left the office.
Dumbledore looked after him, his eyes hard. The young wizard was far too rebellious and far too loyal to Miss Granger for the Headmaster's tastes. Well, Harry would just have to live with this decision. It was final.
Harry stormed down the spiral staircase and ran through the corridors, his tears almost blinding him. He took the stairwells at a bound, jumping from the landings recklessly as he made his wall down to the main hall. He ran to the Great Hall and threw the doors open.
He looked around, and his eyes fell on the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was there, surrounded by his goons, Crabbe and Goyle. Harry stood there, looking at the pureblood, his green eyes narrowed. Determinedly he walked over to the table and grabbed Malfoy by the shoulder.
"Hey!" Crabbe said, pushing him away.
"I need to talk to Draco," Harry said, his eyes on the blonde wizard.
Draco turned and looked up at him.
"Ah, Pottie. What could you possibly want to talk to me about? It's not like we're friends or anything," he drawled, "Even being seen talking to you could ruin my reputation."
"Fuck your reputation, Draco. I need to talk to you and I need to talk to you now!" Harry said.
Crabbe stood up. So did Goyle.
Harry whipped out his wand before either of them could move.
"I swear I will hex you both into next week if you don't back the fuck up from me now, and let me talk to Draco!" Harry hissed.
"Mister Potter! Put that wand away this instant!" Professor McGonagal's voice rang out from the High Table.
Draco was studying Harry. The wizard had a crazed look in his eyes. He had no doubt he would hex all three of them before McGonagal could get to them.
"Put it down, Potter. I'll talk to you. Stay here," Draco said to Crabbe and Goyle as he rose from the table. Harry put his wand away.
Draco stepped over the bench. He and Harry walked down the aisle and exited the Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other stupidly.
"Potter was pissed," Crabbe said.
"Yeah," Goyle agreed. "Hope Draco will be all right."
The two wizards looked at the doors the two wizards walked out of.
Harry led Draco away from the Great Hall to a quiet area. He cast a silencing charm around them.
Draco looked at him.
"What's this all about, Potter?" Draco asked, "What do you want?"
"I need to go to Voldemort," Harry said. "I know your father's a Death Eater, Malfoy. He could take me to him."
Draco's eyes widened.
"You want to go to Voldemort? Why, Potter? He'll kill you on sight," he said, frowning at the green-eyed wizard.
"He has Hermione," Harry replied.
Draco blinked at him.
"Voldemort has Granger? How'd he get her," Draco asked, interested.
"Snape took her," Harry said, scowling.
"Shit," Draco breathed, "So you're going to play hero again and try to get her out?"
"I don't know what I'm going to do. I just have to get there before…" Harry faltered.
"Before what, Potter?" Draco pressed.
"Before something awful happens. Please, Draco. I'm begging you. Tell your father I want him to take me to Voldemort," he said.
Draco looked at the pleading wizard. If his father brought Potter to Voldemort, he would be well rewarded, which in turn meant he'd be well rewarded.
He looked at Harry.
"Very well, Potter. I'll tell my father and see what he says. This better not be a setup. I'll get you if it is," Draco said, frowning at him.
"It's not, Draco…I swear. I just have to see Hermione. Talk to her," Harry said.
"It's going to be kind of hard to talk to her when you're dead," Draco observed, turning to go.
"Just let me worry about that," Harry said coldly, removing the silencing charm.
Both wizards walked back toward the Great Hall.
"My father's going to flip when he hears this," Draco thought to himself. "He's going to fucking flip."
Snape stalked back to Hermione's rooms. He didn't knock but walked right in, and planned to continue doing it. He had saved her after all, the ungrateful little chit. Now he was playing messenger boy for the Dark Lord. He sighed. He'd walk in, give her the message and walk right out before she found another way to toy with him.
He hadn't realized that the Dark Lord's realm had the effect of increasing carnal urges. But it made sense. Initially he participated half-heartedly in the Revels, but after a while he began to enjoy them, and after that, crave them. Now he was a no holds barred sexual animal. Is this what would happen to Miss Granger? He had no doubt. He already had a taste of it this morning. He didn't want to admit to himself her taking charge had been very arousing, though he consciously attributed his massive hard-on to the thought of getting her back. Which he hadn't. He growled low in his throat. She'd want him to shag her sooner or later. Voldemort's guest or not, he'd make sure she had trouble walking.
Snape walked into her bedroom. The bed was empty, and the shower running. Without hesitation he entered the bathroom and turned toward the shower. The enclosure was made of glass, and he could see her standing just outside the spray, washing her nude body, a great amount of lather on her washcloth. But the way she was washing herself, he was sure it was not her usual method. It was more as if she were stimulating herself, massaging her breasts slowly, lingering over the hardened nipples, running the cloth slowly over her belly…
He watched fascinated as she lathered her body sensually. And when she washed between her legs…nothing should have taken that long. It was obvious she had climaxed, her head thrown back and mouth open, her belly contracting. Then she stepped back under the spray, turning slowly. Then her amber eyes widened with surprise when she saw him, then slitted. For a moment he was tempted to enter the shower fully clothed. He had just relieved himself with the Death Eater, but found he had another erection just watching her. It seemed that she was extremely susceptible to the magic of the Dark Lord's domain. This wasn't good. It could sidetrack her. He would have to tell her.
He watched as she stepped out of the shower. She didn't have any shyness in front of him all at as she reached for the towel and began to dry herself.
"Is there a reason you are here besides ogling me taking a shower, Professor?" she asked him. "I know you've had your little 'problem' taken care of. Are you always such a caveman?" she asked him, her amber eyes glittering with mirth.
Snape frowned.
"The Dark Lord would like for you to join him for breakfast in an hour. I suggest you wear something you brought from Hogwarts." he said evenly.
"Why? There are some beautiful dresses in my wardrobe that I'd love to wear," she said.
"You wear those dresses, Miss Granger, and you'll be taking them off in no time for the Dark Lord," he replied. "They're charmed to increase your sensuality…your libido. So are your nightgowns. Any articles of clothing provided for you are designed to make you increasingly randy, Miss Granger. Sooner or later you will end up shagging Voldemort," he said.
Hermione looked at him in shock.
"And if you think I'm brutal," Snape said silkily, "The Dark Lord has a tool that can wrap itself around you of its own volition. His appearance isn't the only thing about him that's snake-like."
Hermione looked at Snape in horror. She knew he was telling the truth. When she slipped her nightgown on the night before, it had felt too good against her skin not to be charmed. But she had thought it was just a charm on the fabric, but it was more like the garment had been dipped in a lust potion that reacted against the skin. The longer she spent in the gown, the more randy she became. That was why she had made Snape…
She looked at him with raised eyebrows for a moment, and decided not to apologize. Even if it was the nightgown…his attentions had been damn good. And the sense of control, awesome.
"I guess I'd better take to transfiguring my own clothing," Hermione said as she applied a drying spell to her hair. She was so preoccupied, she didn't realize she had done it wandlessly. Snape did, however. But he didn't say anything.
"Good idea," Snape replied, relieved. "Maybe duplicate the clothing you were given. That way you will not offend the Dark Lord. There is also the additional problem that the whole place is infused with magic that increases carnal urges. The only thing you can do about that is to exercise control."
Here, Snape's black eyes glittered at her. "You'll have to determine whether your desires are actual or inspired by the Dark Lord."
"How will I be able to tell?" she asked him, wrapping the towel around him and walking past into the bedroom. He followed her.
"I don't know. Maybe you should practice total abstinence," he smirked.
"I've tried that, believe me," she said, looking at him darkly. She couldn't resist him when her need came on her.
"I haven't touched you in a few days. You must be able to control it to some extent. Try to use your powers to quell it the next time you feel…indulgent," he said.
Hermione reached in her carry-all and retrieved a bra and knickers and put them on. She pulled out a t-shirt and walked over to the wardrobe, and took out a dress. She studied it for a bit, turning it this way and that. She looked at the t-shirt and concentrated. It changed to an exact replica.
"I did it!" she shrieked, dancing about with the dress. "I used my powers, Professor!"
The Potions Master looked at her. "That is fine and well, Miss Granger, but we need you to be able to do more than transfigure t-shirts."
"Maybe I can, but I need time to find out," Hermione said.
"I don't know how much time we have, Miss Granger. Albus is not going to stop trying to kill you. Actually, he is probably using every resource available to locate this stronghold. I would not be surprised if he started pulling suspected Death Eaters out of bed in the middle of the night and torturing them for information. I believe the Final Battle has been accelerated because of you."
"There won't be a Final Battle if I can help it," Hermione said, iron in her voice.
"Let's hope you can help it, then." Snape said as Hermione slipped on the dress. It was green and silver low cut and form fitting at the top and flared at the bottom. It fell over her hips nicely and swished fetchingly when she walked.
"Slytherin colors suit you Miss Granger," Snape said, eyeing her.
Hermione didn't respond as she transfigured her trainers to match her dress.
She spun in front of Snape.
"Do you think the Dark Lord will approve?" she asked him.
Snape ran his black eyes slowly over her, taking in every curve. He wished she had let him take her. She looked delicious.
"Yes. Most certainly. He is lusting after you, after all," Snape said, enjoying Hermione's shudder. "Don't worry. You have about a week before he'll start making his desire known."
"So I have a week to reach full power," Hermione said.
"A week to either reach full power or experience a new level of s-s-s-s-s-sexual pleas-s-s-sure," Snape lisped, smirking darkly.
Hermione scowled at him and exited her rooms, headed for breakfast with the Dark Lord.
Hermione entered the throne room to find Voldemort seated at a table covered in blue silk. Before him were several very small platters of food. Eggs, biscuits, ham, bacon, honey, strawberries and orange slices. There were also small pitchers of milk, orange juice and pumpkin juice. He rose when Hermione approached and moved fluidly toward her, his red eyes glittering as they swept over her, and slitting in approval before he pressed his thin lips to her hand and escorted her to the table. He pulled out her chair for her. She sat and he slid her closer to the table neatly.
"Thank you, my Lord," Hermione said.
"You are welcome, Miss Granger," he replied, seating himself across from her. His fixed his red eyes to hers.
"You look lovely," Voldemort lisped.
Hermione lowered her eyes and blushed slightly at his compliment. Her response seemed to please him. He didn't generally associate with women who could still blush. He liked that she wasn't hardened yet. Snape, the brute that he was, hadn't yet ruined her.
"I hope you find the offerings acceptable," he said gesturing to the food on the table.
"Oh, this is fine my Lord. All my favorites," Hermione said. She licked her lips. She was very hungry. She looked at Lord Voldemort to see if he would begin serving.
"Ah, my dear…you go ahead and serve yourself what you like. I, myself do not partake of food such as this. I have other means of gaining sustenance," he said softly.
Hermione didn't want to think what that was. Actually it was a mixture of snake venom and various potions Snape had created for the Dark Lord. But Hermione had the gist of it. The ingredients of those potions had required the loss of innocent lives. "Small lives" as Voldemort liked to refer to muggles.
Hermione began to fill her plate, and ate heartily as the Dark Lord watched her. He studied her face. It was a lovely face, but intelligent also. She didn't have the vacuous look in her eyes that most of the women he had dealt with did. She was smart, this one. But young. So young. She was a small woman too. Small women were very pleasing to him sexually. They granted easy access and were easy to physically dominate and manipulate. He continued to watch her as she ate, occasionally looking up at him and smiling.
After Hermione had taken the edge off her hunger, she looked up at the Dark Lord.
"Everything is delicious, my Lord. Thank you for inviting me to breakfast," she said, smiling at the dark wizard.
"I am glad you enjoyed it, Miss Granger. Now that you have been fed, I am hoping you will feed my curiosity about you. Tell me about yourself. How you came to be in the wizarding world," he lisped.
Hermione told him how as a child, strange things would happen around her. Mirrors suddenly breaking, the telly turning on and off. Once a bully was thrown several feet when he yanked her hair. Things like that. The children used to call her "Stranger Granger". She had no friends, so she read everything she could get her hands on. Books were her only friends.
Her parents worried about her so much. She was so withdrawn and self-contained. One day, Albus Dumbledore showed up at her parent's flat with her letter to Hogwarts. He explained she was a witch, and had been accepted to Hogwarts. Her parents thought Albus was a nutter, until he took them to Hogwarts for a tour. She was enrolled.
Hermione hesitated. Harry was a large part of her life at Hogwarts, and she knew Voldemort hated him. The wizard noticed her hesitance.
"You may be candid, Miss Granger. I am well aware you are a friend of Harry Potter's. I will not hold that against you. I am very interested in how you met," he said, his red eyes meeting hers.
Hermione decided truthfulness was the best policy, and told him about being sorted into the same house, and meeting Harry and Ronald, the incident with the mountain troll that sealed their friendship and their adventures together. She also told of her classes, the subjects she'd studied, the growing responsibilities she had assigned to her. She left out her involvement with the Order however. Voldemort listened with rapt interest.
"And how did you find out you were a Primordial?" he asked.
"Strange things started happening around me. Things drying out at first. Then other things. Then I turned Ron's head into an ass's head after an argument. Harry helped me figure it out. I couldn't do wandless magic, and what I did do was spell-less as well. Only Primordials could do spell-less magic."
"You are only eighteen. A woman, but hardly mature. Most Primordials are well into their twenties before their powers began to manifest. What happened to speed up the process?" Voldemort asked, though he was aware it could only be one thing. Snape taking away her innocence.
"I believe it was my involvement with Professor Snape," Hermione said, blushing furiously, "he took my virginity."
"Surely, being deflowered for the first time removes some innocence, but it hardly matures you,' Voldemort said, pressing for more details.
Hermione blushed again, much deeper this time.
"The way the Professor took me, believe me, it matured me quickly," she said candidly.
Voldemort chuckled.
"Yes, Snape has never been what I would call a "tender" sort. I imagine your first night was a thorough and rather brutal education," he lisped. He felt a rise under his robes as he broached this subject.
"Yes," Hermione replied, wanting to get off this topic, as the Dark Wizard was looking at her rather hotly.
"Tell me about yourself, my Lord. I have been taught things…horrible things about you all my life. I would like to hear your take on who and what you are," she said earnestly.
The Dark Lord sat back and looked at the witch consideringly.
"Miss Granger, I adhere to the adage, 'To the strongest go the spoils'. I am also a sensualist and believe that personal pleasure is a worthy pursuit. My early life was a nightmare and I was orphaned at an early age. Orphans are never treated well, Miss Granger. They are denied even the basic necessities of life, five and six year old children worked like full grown men and women, becoming victims of crimes too hideous to describe, violations and molestations and have no one to voice the wrongs against them, despite the so-called government agencies meant to protect them. I felt powerless, and decided that I needed to become strong and claim the pleasures and spoils that the world had to offer. So I worked at it, Miss Granger, and earned the respect of others that were downtrodden. I lifted them up, showed them the power that could be theirs if they cast aside their preconceived notions of right and wrong, and focused on the self.
"I am a half-blood, Miss Granger, but discovered the weakest in the wizarding world were the purebloods. Generations of inbreeding and comfort had weakened them, and what they considered riches were not riches at all. I showed them a new way, and they flocked to me, hungry for the power and the pleasure and the freedom I could give to them if they only obeyed me. My Death Eaters were formed. We dabbled in the old arts, searching for the key to immortality, that is how the name "Death Eater" came into being. We were targeted for our beliefs. We did not look for heaven as our place of reward, Miss Granger, we sought our rewards here, on earth. We were deemed anarchists and atheists, because we did not believe in organized government which only bred vice and political avarice, or religion, which only restricts men and women from enjoying life and saddles them with guilt."
Voldemort took a deep breath, and continued.
"My Death Eaters were attacked in the streets, in the newspapers, and on the wireless. They were disrespected and degraded. War was declared upon us, Miss Granger, simply because we believed differently and exercised our Slytherin tendencies boldly, although not all my Death Eaters are Slytherins."
"Since all of my Death Eaters were purebloods and muggle-borns not admitted entrance to our assembly because they were not weak, did not share the same history and gene pool as the purebloods, we were deemed a hate group. But we should have been entitled to admit whom we want to our own private gatherings. So problems with muggles and muggle-borns began as well, the muggle parents and relatives of muggle-born children targeting us, protesting us, attacking us, and beating us in the streets. So we fought back, and in the process gained the name of being evil, when evil was done against us."
Here, the wizard paused, and wiped his face with his scaly hand.
"Eventually, even the mark my Death Eaters carried was cause for arrest and Azkaban, sometimes without trial, their souls taken by Dementors. Albus Dumbledore led the persecution against us. Over time, constant persecution will make anyone lose his hold. Tired of being called evil, I became evil incarnate, driven to it by the unfair practices of the wizarding world. Now I strike at those who would strike at me and mine first. But I still have my dreams of complete freedom from organized government and religious beliefs. People could live freely and happily without such weights around their necks. But there are those, like Albus Dumbledore who refuse to relinquish power to the masses, where it rightfully belongs. They want to keep all chained to the machine while they work the buttons, Miss Granger and reap all the glory."
Voldemort looked at Hermione piercingly.
"My fight is the fight for freedom, where all can follow their own path without restrictions and without restraint. Those who are strong will gain the most of course, but those who have less will find the means to survive as well, naturally falling into their roles as do all things in nature. Even the blackest heart longs for freedom, Miss Granger. Believe me when I say I do not want to rule the world, I want to free it.. It is the so-called "Light" that seeks to control every aspect of human existence."
The wizard leaned forward, his red eyes glittering.
"You yourself have been a victim of that machine. They have directed your life, raped you for your intelligence, heaped unfair responsibilities upon you, and when you sought to follow your own path, they tried to kill the people you loved so you would have no where to go, and now hunt you like an animal because you would not submit to their directives and forced destiny. Yes, I know you were being groomed to serve the Order, Miss Granger, and now that that brush has slipped from their hands, they will not let you live. I believe you have a right to live, Miss Granger, but they will not allow you to. You will have to fight for your right to be. To exist, the same as I do. I am hoping we can end this unfairness together, Miss Granger. I hope that when the time comes to face the forces of the "Light" you will be on my side."
Hermione looked at him. "I've never heard this side of your story. You've given me much to think about my Lord," she said carefully, not wanting to commit herself.
Voldemort looked at her, his eyes slightly hard.
"You think about it, Miss Granger. Think about how you yourself have been rewarded for your loyalty. For your obedience. For your trust. You've been pulled up by the roots, and forced to flee everything you've known and loved. You can't even visit your parents now. You have been marked for death. Even you cannot justify the 'Light' in the face of all this wrongness. You have a decision to make, Miss Granger, and I give you the freedom to make it. That is more than anyone in the magical world has ever done for you."
Voldemort rose, and walked around to help her from her seat. He faced her, his red eyes meeting hers.
"Thank you, Miss Granger for hearing me out. I am tired now, and must nourish myself. Please return to your rooms and make use of them," he said. "The throne room will be available in an hour or so. You are welcome to return then, if you like."
Hermione curtsied.
"Thank you, my Lord," she said. Voldemort kissed her hand once more. This time she didn't have to fight a shudder.
"Miss Granger," he lisped, releasing her hand. He tiredly walked to his throne and sat heavily upon it.
"Peter!" he called.
The plump little Death Eater seemed to appear out of nowhere. He bowed deeply.
"Yes my Lord?" he squeaked.
Hermione returned to her rooms, dropped to the living room couch and stared into space.
She had much to think about.
Snape lay on his bed in his small room, his arms locked behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. Even though he was the current Most Favored Death Eater, his lodgings still sucked. He had a twin-sized bed, a dresser, a wardrobe, a wooden chair and an end table. His bathroom had a sink, cheap loo and a shower with a curtain. The walls were bare, and he kept a minimal amount of clothing here. Nothing like Miss Primordial's lush dwellings.
He wondered how Miss Granger's breakfast with Voldemort was going. No doubt the Dark Lord was regaling her with his bullshit "Freedom Fighter" spiel. It worked almost every time. He hoped she didn't fall for it and decide to side with the Dark Lord. He would never be free of the despot if that happened. He turned over uncomfortably in the tiny bed.
Dumbledore would be scouring his rooms for clues by now. He wouldn't find any. He wouldn't find any potions of merit either. He had cleared out his stores of his most important brews. His own. If he could ever get free of this insanity, he'd do well selling his work. He'd probably become a rich man and spend the rest of his life shagging the shit out of gold diggers. He could live with that.
So much hinged on Miss Granger coming to full power. Her transformation of the dress had been a good start. He figured Albus would be on them within the next two weeks or so. Snape smirked to himself. He had finally royally screwed the old bastard, and it felt damn good. He suffered greatly because of him, and was never once thanked for it. Just sent back for more of the same punishment. The Headmaster was probably frothing at the mouth to kill him. Hopefully, he would never get the chance. Hopefully Hermione would decide that both he and Voldemort needed to be eliminated, and would do so with dispatch. He thought he might have helped darken that soft soul a bit. She had certainly shown more backbone over the past few weeks.
Imagine, she ordered him to service her. A few weeks ago she would have never dreamed of forcing him to do such a humiliating act. Not that he hadn't enjoyed it. The Primordial had the sweetest trim he had ever tasted. It was just the fact that he had to obey her that rankled him so badly. He had told her about the charmed clothing and the aura of carnality, but he wondered if she would still make him sleep in the armchair. Hmm. If he transfigured something into an ottoman, it wouldn't be so bad actually. Better than the fucking bed he had now.
Suddenly a house elf winked into his room, trembling badly.
"Excuse me, sir, but the Miss would like to see you in her rooms as soon as possible," Hansel said, ducking his head at giving Snape an order from the witch. Snape had a bad temper, and he had kicked the elf on more than one occasion.
"I'll be there," Snape growled at the elf, "Now get out of here."
Hansel winked out, relief all over his wizened face.
Snape rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. He stretched and rose.
What did she want now? Hopefully some hot and ready wand.
Hermione sat on the sofa in the living room, waiting for Professor Snape to arrive. She needed to talk to him about what Voldemort told her about his past and his motives for fighting against the 'Light'. She knew the Dark Lord had sugarcoated the truth. She had seen the mutilated bodies of muggles who were used at the Dark Revels, and left in open places to be found. It was horrible to think the torn and broken corpses were actually alive when brought to that condition. And Professor Snape was part of that. She shuddered. But she realized Snape had been immersed in Voldemort's carnality enhancement spell for many, many years. If he had not been exposed to it, would he be the same man he was today? He'd probably be sarcastic, snarky and cold as that seemed to be his real personality, but not a rapist and murderer. Dumbledore had a lot to do with the way he was, reinforcing the wizard's cruelty by treating him cruelly as he served the Order.
The door opened and the Potions Master walked in. He was pale, limping slightly, and clutching himself. Hermione immediately rose, alarmed.
"What happened, Professor?" she asked as she walked over and helped him into a soft armchair.
His black eyes met hers. They were accusing.
"What happened, Miss Granger, is that you sent for me when the Dark Lord was being fed. He doesn't like anyone to see him when he takes his elixir. He has terrible seizures. Even though I created the brew, and have seen the convulsions that occur on numerous occasions, he was not happy with my intrusion and gave me a healthy dose of the Cruciatus curse," Snape said, grimacing a little as an aftershock hit him.
"Oh, Professor, I'm so sorry," Hermione said, her amber eyes full of guilt and concern.
"Sorry doesn't cut it," Snape said, trying to turn his condition to his advantage, "You should let me ream you for what I just went through for you."
Hermione looked at him, her eyebrow arching.
"In your condition?" she asked.
"I don't mean right now. I mean tonight," he said, wincing against an aching jolt that shot through him.
"Professor, you just had a woman less than three hours ago," Hermione said frowning at him.
"Yes, but I want you," Snape replied, his black eyes hot, before he shuddered and pain filled them.
Hermione was filled with sympathy for the Potions Master, even if he were trying to use guilt to make her spread her legs for him. She hadn't known Voldemort would Crucio the Professor, but she felt responsible just the same. She placed her hands on his chest.
"What do you think you are doing, Miss Granger?" he growled at her as he spasmed.
"Shhh," Hermione said as she willed his pain to be taken away. She felt the power flow through her, not so much a raging torrent…more like a stream. Calmer.
Snape stopped shuddering immediately. He looked up at her.
"Your powers?" he asked her, sitting up in the chair straighter as she took away her hands.
She nodded.
"Impressive," Snape mused, "stopping the effects of the Cruciatus that quickly is a miracle. You are becoming quite powerful if you can neutralize an Unforgivable."
His eyes swept over her.
"But I still suffered for you. I should be recompensed," he said, licking his lips.
"You just were. I took the pain away," Hermione said, turning away and returning to the sofa.
"Yes, but that didn't cancel out what I went through. You only removed the pain that you caused me," he said evenly.
"All right. How about this? We'll see. It's not a yes, but it's not a no either," Hermione said, looking at him levelly. If she did this, she'd make him share her bed too. She didn't want to be alone. A warm body was a warm body, even if it belonged to Snape.
The Potions Master looked at her, his eyes heated.
"I'll accept that for now, Miss Granger," he said, "Now why did you want to see me?"
"At breakfast, Voldemort gave me a version of his history that I have never heard, one that paints him and his Death Eaters as being unfairly persecuted for their beliefs, and claimed that persecution caused him to change his tactics and become the Dark Lord everyone initially accused him of being. He was very persuasive, Professor. He cited my own situation, and wants me to join him to fight the Order when it comes for him and me. It makes sense to fight them, Professor. They won't let me survive," she said, twisting the hem of her dress between her hands nervously. Snape looked at her, then rose.
"Let me see your conversation with him, Miss Granger," he said approaching her.
Hermione stood up, and Snape placed two fingers against her forehead for a more secure connection.
"Legilimens!" he said.
Snape stood there a long time watching the conversation between the Primordial and the Dark Lord until it finished. He removed his hand and frowned down at the witch.
"What he told you, Miss Granger, is a very twisted version of the truth. He is no freedom fighter. He wants the wizarding world in chaos so it will be easier to control. 'To the stronger go the spoils' simply means he will get everything. If people were allowed to live without restraint, the stronger would prey on the weaker, and enslave them to their own uses. Men are not like animals, Miss Granger. We do not fall into "natural roles'. Animals are content with their lot. Men never are. Voldemort is against government, because it checks and balances power. He is against religion because faith gives people a sense there is something more to life. Many find great inner strength, and are able to recognize and resist evil because of this faith. Miss Granger, do not be swayed by the Dark Lord. He covets your power, and you are in as much danger from him as you are from the Order. He is only another side of the same coin."
Snape looked down at the witch, and became irritated with the way she was twisting her dress hem in her hands like a nervous child. He pulled the fabric out of her hands with a scowl.
"You cannot become overwhelmed or afraid Miss Granger. You will die if you do, I guarantee this. So will I. And as I have risked everything to bring you to this point, it is my sincere hope my efforts have not been wasted. That you were worth my risk. You told me once you had no intention on being controlled. Stick to that sentiment, Miss Granger. therein lies your answer and your salvation," Snape said, his black eyes burning into hers.
Hermione turned away from him, from the candor in his eyes. She wished Snape was the kind of man who would hold and comfort a woman. She was very much in need of sympathetic human contact. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her would make her feel so much better. Would make her feel less alone.
Snape looked at her. He had not yet broken his legilimency link and knew the Primordial's thoughts. He sighed. He was not the kind of man who comforted a woman. He was the kind of man who would shag a distraught woman into conniptions. If he put his arms around Hermione, it would only be to maneuver her into a position where he could have at her. He was not about to pretend to be what he was not for her. She would have to draw on her own inner strength. It was something that she needed to practice anyway. She really was alone in this. He would not give her the illusion she was not. All he could offer her was momentary escape.
"Miss Granger, I cannot comfort you the way you need. I do not have the emotional ability or the inclination, and I will not pretend I do to bring you a false sense of ease. You must learn to draw on your own strength for comfort. You are truly alone in this. No one can extricate you from your situation but you," he said, reaching out and taking Hermione by the shoulders and turning her to face him.
"All I can offer you is a temporary reprieve, Miss Granger. And you are well aware how I do that. Brutally, selfishly, and with the goal of my own satisfaction. I am not even able to be gentle with you. But I can take your mind away from this via your body. That is all I have to offer you in your time of need," he said, his black eyes glinting at her.
Hermione looked up at him, taking in his cold offer of physical comfort. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she gave him a considering look. If he could act with the goal of his own satisfaction, so could she.
"I could order you to be gentle with me, Professor," she said slowly, "I could even order you to kiss me during the act, and pretend you are my lover. You would have to do it," she said evenly, "or Voldemort would be displeased with you."
Snape frowned at her. "You would have me tortured by the Dark Lord if I refused you?" he said, cocking his head at her.
Hermione gave him a small smile.
"Professor, it would be up to you whether or not you incurred Voldemort's wrath by purposely disobeying him. I heard the conversation, Professor. You said you would keep me happy," she said. "Not keep me happy on your own terms."
The Professor scowled at the witch. She was not under the influence of the charmed nightgown, and she was aware of the carnality influence. In all actuality, he had brought up the subject of shagging her to make her temporarily forget her situation. She didn't have such a thing in her mind before he suggested it. She really was a manipulative little witch at heart. And she was right. If he didn't obey her, it would be his own fault if the Dark Lord punished him.
Hermione clasped her hands behind her back and began to walk around the Professor slowly.
"Now, the real questions are, would I be satisfied with you pretending to be a gentle, caring lover? Would it feel any less good to me if I knew it was all a lie and you were actually being forced to act in a way that is against your true nature?
Should I take into consideration how you would feel being forced to restrain yourself with me? Should I care about how distasteful it would be for you to have to kiss me? Then I ask myself the question, would YOU care if the situation was reversed?"
She stopped and looked at the Professor with hard amber eyes.
"Answer that question, Professor. If the broom were in the other hand, would you care about such things?" Hermione asked him, folding her arms.
Snape looked at her.
"If my goal was my own self-satisfaction, Miss Granger…I would have to say no. I wouldn't care about any of that. I would seek out the fulfillment of my own needs, the feelings of the other party be damned." he replied tightly
Hermione tapped her chin with her forefinger, looking up at him.
"I thought as much. At least you are honest, Professor," she said as she began to walk around him again.
"So, what do you suppose I'm going to do?" she asked him, quirking her mouth.
A/N: Ah, a dilemma. Thanks for reading. More to come.