Two chapters in two days by way of an apology for the delay in updating. I'm still in desperate need of a beta, I've never pretended to be the tidiest typer, and I always need a second pair of eyes for continuity purposes. If you're interested in the job, please do get in touch.

"In time, you will come to wear this with pride."

Severus Snape, former potions master at the greatest magical school in the world stood and admired his prize with a mixture of guilt, triumph and fascination. He had not missed the dramatic change in the girl over recent days, nor had he failed to see the potential in the situation. Pliable. He thought. Now was the time to begin moulding Gryffindor's princess into Slytherin's plaything. Barriers broken, he resolved to ensure every inch of dignity was removed along with every last drop of hope and every desire to leave. She was to adore him and he would enjoy making it so. The sliver of humanity within him still burned with shame each time he recounted both his actions and his plans, but the beast within was far to powerful now. He always won out, just like Severus had come to expect.

The beast wanted to play.

Hermione was exhausted. Her head ached from crying and stress and the room was very hot from the fire. Having been forced to sit in near silence for the best part of an hour, her head was lulling. She no longer cared what Snape was up to. He could draw on her all he liked, give her all the tea in the world, as long as he wasn't raping or beating her, she hadn't the energy to play his games anymore, she needed sleep.

"Come dear," said Severus in his softest voice. He held out his hand and waited patiently as the girl stared at the floor unsure what to do. "We've both had a very trying day, let us get you to bed."

Wide eyed, Hermione finally met his gaze. The black orbs were big and benign for the first time since he had stepped into her stone cell at Malfoy Manor. She was tired and confounded and had little choice either way. Though the man repulsed her, she raised her tiny hand and placed it in his.

He regrets it, he must. He's feeling guilty.

He smiled warmly as she rose from her seat. Had her head been clear, she might have found this terrifying, but she barely noticed the expression. It wasn't until he leaned down gingerly to plant a kiss on the crown of her head that her heart began to race once more. An observer new to the party may have concluded it was the pacing pulse of a lover, still in awe of her beloved. The man bestowing the unwelcome affection had detected the change in pace with a smug pleasure. He knew it's true meaning, fear, suspicion and misguided hope all rolled into one.

He placed his hand on the small of her back and gently guided her out of the door and up the stairs. Without realising, Hermione's own hand raised to finger the pretty gold band around her neck. She allowed herself to be swept along with him, putting up no disagreement as they made their way to what had become her bedroom door. He didn't walk he in, instead he gestured her inside, bade her good night, and closed the door behind her.

Not for the first time, a tired and bewildered Hermione cried herself to sleep.

The morning came without event, as did the afternoon and the evening. Severus was gone by the time she woke up and didn't return until well after she had fallen asleep again. She didn't bother trying to leave the room though it remained meals appeared outside her door at four hour intervals, all of which remained untouched. This was her routine for three days until her body's need for nourishment overrode her quivering stomachs aversion to intrusion. Finally she took some broth into her body, the warming sensation renewing her physical strength. She no longer felt the persistent threat of fainting and she was reluctantly finding pleasure in the simple act of drinking the fluid.

It was on the fifth day that she awoke to an open door and a scrap of parchment on her bedside.

"Downstairs" it read simply, in the same intricate lettering that spelled out her master's name on her arm like her epitaph.

She rose from her bad and took the note in her hand. Her bones were still stiff and her vagina still gave her the odd twinge of pain, she winced as her swift movements were rewarded with a reminding stab between her legs. Ignoring her healing wound's protest, she cautiously moved to the door to take a peek outside before inspecting the back of the note for further instructions of which there were none.

She had not seen the man since his curious display almost a week ago, and she worried what personality he might be wearing, should he be waiting for her.

Listening intently, she heard no movement through the rest of the house and with a sigh, obeyed her orders. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she was careful to give the front door as wide a berth as possible, not wanting to activate the wards once more. God knows what she would suffer this time.

She found the living room seemingly empty and moved the kitchen only to discover the same. It was only on her second inspection, re-entering the living room that she spied the reason she has been summoned to the room. A black bound leather book lay on the table she had once taken a cup of Earl Grey tea from. Atop it lay a matching scrap of parchment with the familiar green font spelling out her own christian name.

This piece did have something on the back.

"I expect a meal on the table at 6pm. There will be questions."

Hermione sat on the same high backed leather chair she had spent one of the most uncomfortable hours of her life only days ago and re-read the note twice.

After some deliberation the only conclusion she could arrive at was that he meant the book. A little explicitness was apparently too much to ask for then. A meal at six, fine. A test on a book, should she be so lucky? She used her index and middle finger to graze the soft leather of the cover. It was brand new - unopened. For the first time in a long while Hermione felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine. Despite everything that plagued her, despite the constant sickening anxiety, the crippling despair and the hungry void in her soul, the anticipation of an un-read book could still summon vivid feelings of joy from her dying psyche. Severus Snape, the man who had almost broken her had given her a gift. Not only the gift of knowledge, but the opportunity to escape, even if just for a few hours.

She unravelled the ribbon binding the pages and let it fall open on a random page, closing her eyes and savouring the smell of fresh ink on paper. She closed it again and placed the leather on her lap, this time aiming for the very first page. Her eyes scanned the dark cover, but it did not give away the contents and so she opened it again and found what she was looking for. Her heart sank deeply from it's raised position as she took in the sole word in the books title.

"Obedience."

What IS that man's game? Don't worry if you're having trouble keeping up with his mood swings, all will become clear. Thank you for reading.