Inside the Blackest Heart Part 12

Snape released Hermione's lips and looked down at her, a slight hardness in his black eyes. It was true that she had been under the influence of the charmed gown when she made him service her then left him to find relief the best way he could, but still she did it. She didn't try to fight the urge to use and humiliate him. Of course, such an act couldn't go unpunished.

"How limber are you, Miss Granger?" he inquired, rising to kneel between her thighs, and looking down at her core. He bent her legs and pushed her knees against her chest. She folded up quite nicely

"Grip your legs, Miss Granger, he said thickly as he positioned himself at her entrance," hold yourself open for me." Hermione did as he asked. He looked down at her.

"This is for this morning, Miss Granger," he growled. Hermione's eyes widened. She had forgotten this morning.

"Wait, Professor…oh gods!" she cried as he slammed into her brutally, and began ramming his full length in and out of her with long, deep strokes, bouncing her body off the mattress. Her hands flew from her legs and to his back, gripping at him desperately as he lifted his hips high and plunged inside her over and over, his black eyes full of lust, a thin smile of vengeful pleasure quirking his mouth, his hair swinging back and forth around his face as he rode her.

"Never…leave….me….hanging….Miss….Granger," he purred softly, punctuating each silken word with a deep, hard thrust

Hermione was shrieking as the Potions Master stroked her violently, grunting with every thrust, his muscles rippling under her hands as she clutched at him, arching under him every time he hit bottom, spasms of pain and pleasure radiating outward from her center as she absorbed the shock of his pounding possession. His organ was like iron sheathed in silk, sliding through her wetness, hard, long, demanding every inch of her and more.

"Professor!" she screamed as he punctured her so deeply she started shuddering uncontrollably, quaking around him and digging her nails into his back reflexively. The Professor hissed at the pain as it sliced through him and continued hammering her, driving her toward the brink, feeling her insides beginning to clutch at him. He was nowhere near ready to release, and he drove into her seeking to batter down the floodgates and give her body release as he took his pleasure of her. He remembered what she said about her pain…how he released it for her. He understood what she meant and what she felt, and he tried his best to take her away from it, for both their sakes.

"It's time to let go, Miss Granger," he gasped, plunging into her deeply, slowing his stroke and rotating his pelvis, gyrating himself deep inside her, trying to trigger her climax. He began to thrust into her again, this time shifting his body and thrusting at different angles, listening for the catch in her voice that told him when he hit her sweet spot. Suddenly she buckled and he heard the note, and began stroking with purpose into her, keeping the angle true, Hermione tightening around him hitting that note, the pressure building inside her until she burst apart, arching hard against him, murmuring unintelligible words to him, her amber eyes dilated and staring up at him in wonder, bathing him with the liquid fire streaming through her, and Snape eased up, his black eyes glinting as they took in her release. He dropped heavily on her, and locked his mouth to hers, tasting her with his tongue as her climax pulsed over him, then sliding to her throat, kissing and licking her heated flesh and growling with pleasure as she rode the crest and took him with her. Slowly, her pulsing eased, her body relaxing around his hardness, her shudders lessening beneath him.

Snape rested his face against the curve of Hermione's throat, pressing his lips to it, still buried inside her. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. He would give her a few minutes to recover before continuing. He had the whole night.


Hermione lay beneath the Professor's body, panting and sated, relishing his weight, a delicious ache in her belly. He was still inside her, hard and hot, throbbing occasionally. She could feel his lips moving over her throat gently as she eased back to earth. He had been as brutal as ever with her, making it clear he was exacting revenge for her actions this morning. He was not a man to take a simple "I'm sorry" in any case. Still, she had welcomed his violence as she always did, and he showed her some tenderness at the end. Even now, he was caressing her thigh gently, his warm palm sliding over her skin, and his lips were still moving against her throat. His contact felt delicious. Then a thought came to her.

"Professor, your back," she whispered, "I scratched you…"

"A much more pleasant way of getting scars than I'm used to, Miss Granger," he said against her throat. "I am a lot like you in some respects. In this case, the pain was worth the pleasure."

He thrust into her slightly.

"Mm, so tight," he groaned against her neck, stopping himself before he began pummeling her again. He could feel her lubrication washing over him. Her body was responding to his continued presence inside her.

"You recover quickly, Miss Granger," he said, lifting his head and looking down at her. He kissed her again, sliding out of her slowly and easing off of her body. He started kissing her shoulder, sliding his lips across her skin, sucking gently, before moving down her arm like a randy count in an old muggle movie. Hermione giggled.

"You find something funny about my technique, Miss Granger?" he asked her, sucking on her fingers and kissing her palm, sending little shocks through her. Who would have thought getting her fingers sucked would be a turn on?

"It's…different," she said.

He lifted his brow at her.

"Miss Granger, you are still post-virginal despite my rather thorough attentions. How do you know my technique is different, when I'm the only wizard you've ever shagged?" he asked her, pulling her nipple gently and letting it snap back, eliciting a gasp from the Primordial.

"I don't know. It just doesn't seem like something an ordinary wizard would do," she replied softly looking at him.

Snape smirked.

"Who said I was an ordinary wizard, Miss Granger?" he said, rolling her quickly on to her stomach and straddling her hips, his member resting on the swell of her buttocks and lower back.

"Intermission's over," he growled.

Then he began to caress her neck and shoulders gently, letting his palms smooth over her back then slipping to her sides. Hermione moaned at the feel of his hands on her body. She was heating up again.

He shifted his body downward so he was sitting on her calves. He continued to caress her, running his hands over her lower back and buttocks. He throbbed. Reaching under her, he coaxed her to her knees, pulling her up against him, her thighs together as he straddled her legs. He stroked her vulva lightly, feeling her wetness on her lower lips. She shuddered and pushed back against him. He pushed her head down to the bed and slid into her slowly. She was very tight this way.

"Yesssss," he hissed as he penetrated her. He began to take her slowly, gripping her buttocks and pulling her back over him as he thrust between her thighs, burying himself in her. She moaned in pleasure.

"You like this, Miss Granger?" he asked, sliding his hands up her back, down her sides and over her breasts as he pumped into her a bit faster.

"Yes, Professor. But harder…please," she moaned.

"You see how wanton you are, Miss Granger? I try to be gentle and yet, you beg me not to be. Why is that, Miss Granger?" he asked her, thrusting into her a little harder, but not giving her what he knew she wanted.

"It's not enough…" she gasped as he increased his depth, hitting bottom lightly.

"Not enough what, Miss Granger?" he asked. He wanted to hear her say it.

"Not enough wand, Professor," she gasped as he gave her a deep, satisfying stroke, before returning to his lighter thrust. Hermione groaned and tried to shove herself back on him hard, but he restrained her.

"Are you trying to force yourself on me, Miss Granger?" he chuckled, his pelvis bumping against her buttocks lightly.

"Damn it Professor! Shag me! Hard!" Hermione hissed, frustrated.

Snape's dark eyes went darker and a delicious shudder shot through him. She had never asked him for it before. It turned him on. He pulsed inside her, swelling larger.

"As you wish, Primordial," he growled.

The Professor pulled almost completely out of her, raised her up from the mattress and gripped her shoulders firmly. He slammed into her, pulling her back against him as he did so, burying himself in her body to the hilt, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Yes!" Hermione shrieked.

The Professor's head snapped back forward, and he began to pull Hermione over him roughly, thrusting into her body as if he had never experienced anything so good before. He hunched over her, kissing the back of her neck as he rode her, and whispering obscenities in her ear.

"Is this enough wand for you, Primordial?" he hissed, his pelvis loudly slapping against her buttocks. Both their bodies were slick with sweat, perspiration flying from Snape's body with every stroke. His hands kept slipping from her shoulders and he pulled her up so her back was against his chest and then he leaned back on his hands and Hermione found herself in the position of sitting on top of him, and she drove herself down on his member just as brutally as the Professor drove into her. He gasped at the force of the witch's ardor.

"Damn Miss Granger," he grunted as she bounced on him, crying out, perspiration rolling down her back and dripping on to his loins. He leaned forward, pulling her hair to one side and locking his mouth to the side of her neck as he slipped his hands under her arms and grasped her breasts, fondling her and tweaking her nipples as he thrust into her faster and harder while she ground herself down on him, feeling the bubble of bliss swelling inside her.

"Professor! Please!" she gasped.

Snape pulled out of her and quickly pushed her down on the bed, turned her over and threw her legs over his shoulders, burying himself in her wildly, angling his thrusts and plowing through her cervix, feeling it shift under his blows as Hermione thrashed beneath him, her amber eyes glazed with the need for release. He bounced into her, making her body rebound into him forcefully. He was growling now, a low steady purr in the back of his throat as he felt the inevitable tightening that heralded his coming release. She was so wet, hot and tight around him that he was on the edge. Hermione was sobbing now, but still thrusting back as best she could, trying to bust that aching bubble inside her.

"Come Hermione!" he snarled at her, ramming himself into the witch with all his might.

Then it happened. A stream of power washed through Hermione and into Snape as she came shrieking, her body growing hot as fire as she gripped him internally, her release washing over him. Snape shuddered as the force of magic flowed through him, and he came howling, feeling his entire being flow into the witch beneath him, losing his sense of self, his identity, himself becoming the pulsing stream of release inside her, his dark soul blending with her greater light, knowing and wanting nothing other than the bliss of becoming one whole being with the Primordial, imbued with a sense of perfect, perfect peace.

They hung there, in that eternal moment, mouths and souls locked together, then exploding outward, a nova of delight, spinning, revolving, the pieces of themselves shattering, streaking downward in a meteoric descent, falling back into their bodies, gasping and shuddering, both undone by such an amazing experience.

Snape had both his arms wrapped around Hermione, holding her tightly against him when he came to himself. He looked down at the witch with wonder. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply and evenly, though her heart was pounding like thunder against his chest. He could still feel residual power radiating from her body.

"Miss Granger. Miss Granger," he said softly.

She opened her amber eyes and looked at him, smiling softly.

"What just happened?" he asked her, staring at her with a mixture of wonder and fear. He had never experienced anything like that before.

"I don't know, Professor. I think you got a jolt of my power when I climaxed, and it drew you into me somehow. I felt you close to me for the first time," she said.

The Professor grew silent. He rolled off her.

"I have to go," he said.

"No, stay with me," Hermione said, struggling to sit up as he exited the bed.

Snape looked at her, his black eyes seeming fathomless.

"No, Miss Granger. I have to leave. Return to my own rooms," he said, scourgifying himself.

"But why? You're welcome to stay here. Your room is uncomfortable. You can barely fit in your bed. I saw it in your mind earlier. You can share my rooms," she said, pleading with him.

"No," he said firmly, dressing himself magically, "I can't stay here with you, Miss Granger. This night is over. I have satisfied you, have I not?"

"Yes," Hermione said in a small voice.

"Then I have done what I came here to do. I must leave now. Good night, Miss Granger," the Potions Master said, walking out of the bedroom with a billow of his black robes.

Hermione fell back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

She knew what he was. Cold, heartless, unfeeling. He was a murderer. A rapist. A deatheater. He didn't have a soul. He didn't have any place for her.

Hermione turned over, setting her jaw. She wouldn't cry.

She refused to cry.


Snape walked swiftly into the throne room, making a beeline for his small room. He was out of sorts about what occurred between him and Miss Granger. Or should he refer to her strictly as the Primordial from now on. His climax with the witch had been beyond any pleasure he had ever experienced. He had felt himself connect with her mind, soul and body. He had felt whole and at peace, two things he was not. Snape was a fragmented, troubled wizard and had been so for many years. He was determined he would continue to be so. The Primordial's power was seductive. He could be swept into her influence if he wasn't careful. It would be easy to become addicted to Miss Granger to the exclusion of all else.

As Snape walked across the throne room deep in thought, Voldemort's red eyes shifted toward him. Snape had raw power radiating off of him. It shot through the Dark Lord's body, causing him to shudder with delight.

"Severus!" He called, "Come here."

The Potions Master turned toward the throne, crossed the room and bowed low before his Lord.

"Yes, my Lord. How may I serve you?" Snape asked him.

The Dark Lord leaned toward him hungrily.

"I sense power radiating from you. What is the source of it? It is very powerful. Is it from the Primordial?" the Dark Lord lisped.

"I imagine it is my Lord. I am just leaving her rooms. I fulfilled her desires for her," Snape replied.

"What happened that you carry residual power?" the Dark Lord asked, his red eyes sweeping over his servant suspiciously.

"When we climaxed together, it seemed her power manifested, affecting us both, my Lord," Snape said.

"What did you experience?" the Dark Lord demanded. He wanted to know what it was like to be in the presence of such power.

"I-I cannot explain it, my Lord. It is beyond words," Snape said truthfully. He was not about to tell the Dark Lord he feared becoming attached to the Primordial because of the way she made him feel.

The Dark Lord frowned, then stood up and walked down to Snape. He stood inches from him, a displeased look on his face.

"Then let me see for myself," he lisped. He felt Severus was purposely hiding his experience from him, for whatever reason.

"Yes, my Lord," Snape said, bowing his head.

Voldemort placed two scaly fingers against Snape's temple to strengthen the connection.

"Legilimens!" the Dark Lord cried.

He saw Severus and the Primordial engaged very passionately in rather brutal sex, the Potions Master driving into the witch roughly. He told the witch to come using her given name then everything went blank. The Dark Lord drew back, enraged.

"Are you blocking the experience, Severus?" he demanded.

"No, my Lord. I would never do such a thing," the Potions Master replied, inwardly cringing at the Dark Lord's rage. This wasn't good.

"Well, why can't I see the experience? The release of her power?" he snarled at Snape.

"I don't know my Lord. Perhaps because it was not a completely physical experience," Snape said.

The Dark Lord scowled at the Potions Master blackly.

"I believe you are hiding it, Severus. Well, you will release the memory to me…Crucio!" the Dark Lord cried.

Snape seized up with pain immediately, his limbs locked to his body as pain ripped through him. It felt as if his blood were boiling in his veins. He shuddered helplessly as the curse ripped at him.

In her bed, Hermione received a vision of Snape in pain. She saw the Dark Lord applying the Cruciatus curse to the Potions Master. She jumped out of bed, her body immediately scourgified and a gown and house robe appearing on her body as she ran for the throne room.

She flung open the door and stopped as she saw Voldemort holding his wand on the Professor, whose eyes were rolled up to the pure whites with pain. She ran toward them.

"Stop! Why are you hurting him? Leave him be!" she yelled at the Dark Lord.

Suddenly, the curse was unable to reach the Potions Master, dissipating inches from his body as the wizard fell, convulsing on the floor. Voldemort had been very displeased, and the curse was fueled by his displeasure and so was very strong. The Potions Master was in bad shape, his limbs flopping uncontrollably, as he foamed at the mouth, his eyes still rolled up. He had pissed and shit on himself, unable to control his bodily functions.

The Dark Lord, seeing that his curse no longer could touch the Potions Master stopped the spell, his red eyes sliding toward the young witch running toward his fallen servant.

"Why were you torturing him?" Hermione asked Voldemort as she fell on her knees at the Professor's side and tried to gather the convulsing wizard into her arms.

"Professor. I'm here," she said to the wizard. He couldn't hear her, caught in the aftermath of the terrible spell. Hermione pulled him against her and wrapped her arms around him tightly, willing for the pain to leave him. Immediately his convulsions stopped. She willed him clean, and Snape was restored to cleanliness.

Voldemort was back in his throne, watching the Primordial use her powers to save her lover. She had stopped his spell. HIS spell. Interfered with his punishment of his servant. He didn't need a reason to torture. He enjoyed it. But in Snape's case he had some knowledge he wanted. Gods, the witch was powerful.

Hermione helped Snape to his feet, supporting him with her shoulder fitted under his arm.

"Why were you punishing him, my Lord? Did he do something?" Hermione asked.

"I wanted to know why he had residual power on his person, and how he acquired it. When I looked into his mind, the experience was blocked. I wanted to see it, so I applied the curse to break the wall that blocked it. It is my usual method of getting information, Miss Granger. He is used to it," the Dark Lord replied.

"No one gets used to that kind of pain. You probably couldn't see it, my Lord because of the magic. It was raw and powerful, and what happened between us was on an inner level, though triggered by a physical act. It wasn't a conscious experience. I doubt it would register," she said.

"But he must have a memory of it," the Dark Lord said angrily.

"I do, my Lord. I just can't find the words to express it," Snape said weakly.

"It's not fair of you to ask him to explain an experience like that, my Lord. It's like asking someone to explain the gods. I can tell you this. My power streamed through me and into him. We shared a powerful climax together. That is all that happened, my Lord," Hermione said, fighting not to frown at the Dark Wizard, who looked very angry.

"Very well, Primordial. But I warn you, I don't have much patience. I realize you were motivated by your emotions, but never come between me and any of my servants again. Severus was my servant, long before he was yours. You are a guest in my domain. I suggest you act like one," the Dark Lord said, seething inwardly. He had killed for having a conversation interrupted. How much worse was this? Actually interfering with a spell? He ground his teeth.

"Come on, Professor…you are coming with me," Hermione said, pulling him toward her rooms. Snape resisted, but he was weak, and tired. He allowed her to take him. But he knew she had just done a very dangerous thing, saving him from the Dark Lord's wrath. Now she was in very real danger from the wizard. He hoped her powers were up to par.

Hermione's door opened, seemingly of its own accord, and the two of them passed through it. It closed behind him.

Voldemort cast a silencing spell around his throne and let out a roar of frustration. How dare she? He had to either secure her word to help him or find a way to destroy her, and soon. She had just taken away the symptoms of the Cruciatus curse just by her will. For years healers had searched for a fast cure for the effects and were unsuccessful. She did it as easily as blinking. What power. How he coveted it.

The Dark Lord calmed a bit and thought about the power the witch had shared with Snape at climax. Snape was a fairly strong wizard, but nowhere near as powerful as himself. Perhaps if he were to experience the flow of her power, he could retain some of it. Use it. It might enhance him. But to do that, he would have to do the Primordial. She was very attached to Snape. Did her powers block the influence of his realm? He hoped not, but she hadn't yet evidenced an interest in exploring her sexuality. He could try to cast a lust spell on her, or the Imperious…but he wasn't sure if her magic would protect her. He would have to think about this. He wanted to experience that power. He would find a way.


Hermione helped Snape into her bedroom and led him to the bed, helping him to sit down. She pushed him back and lifted his legs, positioning him in the bed. In an instant he was in only his silk boxers, his clothing nowhere in sight.

"What did you do with my clothes?" he asked weakly, scowling at the witch, who was shrugging out of her robe.

"I put them where you can't find them so you can't dress and leave. Though I'm not sure how good that tactic will work on a wizard who shags in public," she said, climbing over him and lying down. She turned toward him. "You probably don't have a problem walking about naked."

"I don't," he said shortly.

Hermione studied him.

"Hm. It took a lot of work to get you back in my bed," she said smiling at him.

"I shouldn't be here, Miss Granger. I should be in my own rooms," he said quietly, not looking at her.

"Why? Because you felt something for me other than lust?" Hermione asked.

"No. I didn't feel anything different toward you, Miss Granger. You are still just a woman, although a very powerful one. But your magic is seductive when combined with sex. I don't want to get caught in its hold. I've already been seduced by two Masters." he said.

"So does that mean you won't shag me again, Professor?" she asked him, her face frowning slightly.

"No, it doesn't. I will shag you because it is in my best interest to keep other wizards away from you. Though I am afraid the Dark Lord has even greater designs on you, now that he knows you can share your power with your sex partner at climax. He covets your power," Snape said.

He turned his head to her.

"Be careful of what you eat and drink with him from now on. And I don't know if you can discern through glamours or transfigurations, but you need to be on your guard. He might attempt to impersonate me. You will know the difference if he enters you, however. My penis, when aroused is rigid. His penis moves like a snake."

Snape looked at her thoughtfully.

"You should test me every time I come to your rooms. Place your hand on my loins through my robes. It will arouse either the Dark Lord or me. If you feel me swell and throb, then you know it is me. But if I swell, throb and start to wriggle about, you will know it is the Dark Lord," Snape said, smirking a bit.

Hermione looked at him.

"That sounds pretty nice for you. Every time you come in here I give you a pseudo-handjob. Gods," she said.

"Can you think of anything better?" he asked her.

"Not at the moment. But I'll be thinking about it," she said, yawning. She rolled over

"I'm going to sleep. All that activity made me tired. Good night, Professor," Hermione said. The torches dimmed.

"Good night, Miss Granger," Snape said, turning to face away from her.

Everything was getting so complicated. It was all going to boil to a head soon.

Snape hoped he wouldn't be the one burned.


Harry returned to his room late, in the hope that Ron would be asleep. No such luck. The red-haired wizard was awake and sitting on the side of his bed when Harry walked in. Harry wordlessly undressed and got into bed as Ron looked at him.

"Harry?" Ron said in a low voice.

Harry ignored him.

"Harry, I'm sorry," Ron said, "When I thought of Hermione with Snape, I just exploded. It was too much for me to take. You know how I feel about her."

Harry shifted in the bed.

"I know we'll never be together, Harry. She made that much clear when we tried to be a couple. She's just too smart for me, and she wouldn't want to settle down, be a housewitch and raise a bunch of squalling redheaded Weasleys. Even if she wasn't a Primordial," he said plaintively.

Harry didn't say a word. But Ron was right about that. Hermione was never meant for him.

"She's so beautiful. The thought of her giving all that beauty to a heartless, unfeeling bastard like Snape, who wouldn't appreciate her, just made me crazy. But I know Hermione wouldn't go to the Dark Lord's without a reason, even if Snape did take her. I didn't mean those things I said about her Harry, I swear I didn't. She wouldn't betray us. She wouldn't betray you," Ron said softly, "I needed to be punched in my big mouth. I don't know how to shut up. Come on, Harry…give a bloke a break, won't you?" Ron pleaded.

Harry sighed. He and Ron had been through so much together. He was a git, but he was a loyal git. He couldn't cut him off.

"Hermione told me she might be leaving. Going into hiding," Harry said softly from the bed, "She said I would hear awful things about her, and not to believe them. They wouldn't be true."

"She did, Harry?" Ron said, glad his friend was talking to him again. Then he frowned. "I wonder why she didn't tell me?" He started to scowl.

Harry lifted his head up from the bed and turned toward Ron. He saw the look on his face.

"Ron, you're doing it again. Stop thinking about yourself. She probably didn't tell you because she knew you would have badgered her for every little detail," Harry said, sitting up now.

Ron fell silent as he imagined how he would have reacted if Hermione said she were leaving and going into hiding. He'd have wanted to know why, where, when and with who. Harry had a point. He wouldn't have been able let it go with her just saying she was leaving.

"Right," he said sullenly. Then he looked up at Harry.

"Harry, what can we do to help her? The Order is going to kill her," he said, pain evident in his voice, "We've got to do something, Harry."

Harry wasn't about to tell Ron he was going to see Voldemort tomorrow. The red-haired wizard would have insisted on coming, and it made no sense for both of them to risk death. For Harry, it was certain death, if not necessarily immediate. The Dark Lord would probably 'play' with him first. But if there were any chance he could talk to Hermione, maybe even get her out of there, he would take it.

"I don't know what we can do, Ron," Harry said to his friend, lying back down in his bed. "Let's sleep on it, all right?'

Ron climbed into his bed.

"All right, Harry," he yawned, dropping to his pillow. He was asleep in moments. Ron was like that. He never had problems falling asleep when he was tired.

Harry stared at the wall. He wished he had Ron's ability.


As Hermione slept, dreams came to her. But they were more than dreams. She saw herself in Voldemort's throne room, talking with the wizard. Then, she was willing her power to go to him. The Dark Wizard was shaking and smiling broadly, his eyes closed and arms extended over his head as the power flowed through him. The dream ended.

Hermione woke up, realizing she could give the Dark Lord a taste of her power without having to have sex him. His lust after all, was based on his desire for her abilities. She was so relieved. Letting a wizard with a snake for a tool shag her was not a priority on her "things to experience" list. She looked over at Snape. He was still turned away from her, hugging the very edge of the bed. It was obvious that he didn't want any additional contact with her. There was no subconscious spooning this time. The need to stay away from her had sunk into his psyche. Hermione sighed. He had easily fallen into the role of lover, once he decided it was in his best interest to do so. A gentle lover? No. Hardly that. But he was more attentive and fed her need for contact beyond his penetration. Too bad what he gave her wasn't real. What was real however, was their connection at orgasm. She felt his darkness tangibly, took it into herself, and soothed it. She felt him release that evil part of himself for a moment and cling to her. It must have shaken him terribly to have relinquished control to her in that manner.

She had a feeling that once this situation was resolved, if Snape survived, he would move on, leaving everything remotely connected with his life as a deatheater behind. That would include her. He would probably begin again. She doubted if he would ever be able to feel as others felt. He would probably never know love, never be able to connect with another human being. But he would probably be content to shag strange witches dispassionately as he lived out the rest of his days, much as he did now. It seemed a sad life, but it would be a free life. A free life was all the wizard wanted.

And herself? She was a Primordial. She would have wizards flocking to her, each hoping to be her consort. Courting her not for herself, but to bask in and reap the rewards of her status as the most powerful witch in existence. She doubted whether she would ever find another wizard suitably dark enough to satisfy her darker needs without wanting her power. Most would probably be awed by her, properly respectful, subservient and ready to bend to her every whim.

She lay down again, her amber eyes focused on the sleeping wizard's back. The Professor had saved her life and risked his own in the process, turning against the Order. He had stoically suffered the Cruciatus because of his sexual relationship with her. Snape had his own reasons for doing theses things, but the fact remained she had reaped the benefits of his actions. If he were an ordinary wizard, she would cling to him as her hero, fall head over heels in love with him and probably marry him in time. But that would never happen. Hermione rolled over and faced away from Snape.

Looking at him was starting to hurt too much.


After breakfast, Harry and Ron went to the room of requirement to practice dueling. The room set up a large round and empty area, with a lot of doors in the walls and a raised throne in the center. There was nothing to hide behind, which would make dueling much more challenging. Harry had never seen this scenario, but had a feeling what it was.

"I think this is Voldemort's throne room," Harry said to Ron who winced on hearing the Dark Lord's name.

Ron looked around with wide eyes.

"Why would the room of requirement set up Voldemort's throne room?" he asked, walking up to the throne and looking at it closely, before mounting the stairs and sitting in it majestically, lifting his chin proudly, and holding his wand like a scepter.

"I don't know," Harry lied, "Maybe it picked up the aura of the approaching final battle and created this scenario in anticipation of us storming Voldemort's stronghold."

Ron nodded. It was as good an explanation as anything. Harry sighed with relief. Ron wasn't stupid. He would have figured out Harry planned on going to Voldemort. He would probably figure it out when he found him gone this evening. He'd be livid.

"Come on, Ron, take some shots at me. Low-impact stunners only. I just want to see how long I can avoid them," Harry said, taking a defensive stance.

Ron sat in the throne for a moment, posing…then suddenly shot a fast stunner toward Harry, who leaped out of the way, and began running in a zigzag pattern toward the throne as Ron tried to hit him. Harry finally got stunned when was only about fifteen meters away from the throne which wasn't bad. Ron had pretty good aim.

Ron waited for Harry to recover, then suggested that he try to get behind the throne instead of running directly for it. Harry backed up the wall again, as Ron pretended to be the Dark Lord.

"I'll get you Missssster Potter!" Ron lisped, throwing an initial stunner at Harry. Again, the Boy Who Lived dodged the blast, then ran around the perimeter of the room, starting and stopping, slipping between the blasts until he made it behind the throne. He got even closer this time, before Ron picked him off.

Ron wanted a turn. Even though Harry wanted to practice some more, Ron would get suspicious if he didn't get a couple of tries. The red-haired wizard pressed his long, gangly body against the wall in readiness. Harry felt strange sitting in Voldemort's throne. It made his stomach feel a little queasy. Harry focused on Ron, and feinted a couple of times, making Ron take off running before he actually fired a blast. Harry aimed a blast right in front of him, and Ron slid right into it. Harry grinned.

When Ron recovered, he argued Harry had cheated by feinting. Harry countered with the fact that the Dark Lord would cheat, so he was well within his rights to feint. The argument erupted into a full wizard's duel, using stunners of course, and both wizards ended up stunned and blinking on the floor.

"This really isn't productive, Harry," Ron said as he pushed himself up.

"Yeah," Harry agreed rising and brushing off his robes.

"But we should do it again, this time with us firing back at the Dark Lord," Ron suggested.

Harry didn't think he'd have a wand available when he went to Voldemort. Malfoy would probably take it away from him before they even left for the Dark Lord's stronghold. But it couldn't hurt.

Harry backed up to the wall again. He started the offensive this time, firing a blast at Ron who leaped out of the throne and ducked behind it. Harry charged, zigzagging again, blasting at the throne as he ran. He kept Ron pinned down and managed to reach the base of the throne before getting stunned.

"That was pretty good, Harry. Too bad you got it in the end. Good try though," Ron said encouragingly as the stunned wizard blinked up at him.

The two wizards practiced attacking Voldemort for a couple of hours, then left the room of requirement for lunch.

Harry felt a little better. If the Dark Lord tried to take him out immediately, he could scramble for it. Maybe run through one of the many doors around the throne room. It could give him a little time anyway. The doors in the room of requirement didn't open, but the ones in Voldemort's stronghold probably would.

The two wizards entered the Great Hall and headed for the Gryffindor table. Harry seated himself and looked across at the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was smiling evilly at him. The blonde wizard drew his forefinger across his throat, flopped his head to the side, his tongue hanging out and eyes closed. Then he grinned at Harry.

"Malfoy's such an ass," Ron commented, scowling at the grinning Slytherin.

"Yeah, he is," Harry said, pulling a platter of chicken legs toward him.

This could be his last meal.


Snape awoke to the smell of hot sausages. His stomach growled fitfully as he opened his black eyes. A covered table and two chairs stood a few feet away. On the table was an assortment of breakfast foods. Sausages, eggs, biscuits, ham, and sweet rolls. He could smell fresh coffee, and pushed himself up, sliding to the edge of the bed. He could hear the shower running. That explained where the Primordial was.

He stood up, stretched, and walked over to the table. Miss Granger would probably like to eat her meal with him, but he was too damn hungry. Shagging the Primordial and taking that curse from the Dark Lord left him drained. He needed nourishment. She'd just have to understand.

Snape drew out a chair and sat down, reaching for the coffee pot first, and pouring himself a cup. He took a sip, and sighed. He then piled ham, sausage and eggs on his plate, with a sweet roll. He tucked in. The food was delicious. It was rare to get a full meal at the stronghold. Voldemort was a thrifty bastard. The available selection of foods available was probably only because of Miss Granger's presence. Normally, only a thin meat and potato stew was available. More like soup actually. So Snape was enjoying the variety.

Hermione walked out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her. She looked at the Potions Master eating hungrily and smiled. Her towel became a dress, an exact copy of a form-fitting green one the Dark Lord had provided for her. Her hair was pulled up and held in place with a green comb. Snape looked up at her.

"You're getting good at that," he commented. She looked delicious. He wouldn't mind lifting up that dress.

Hermione merely smiled and sat down. She knew what randy thoughts he was thinking. Snape wasn't in love, but he was in-satiable. She started filling her plate with ham and eggs. She picked up biscuit and poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice. Snape hadn't noticed the pitcher of pumpkin juice. He was almost sure it hadn't been there before the Primordial entered the room. He shrugged to himself. If she wanted to use her formidable powers to create cold pumpkin juice, it was her right.

"I've come up with a solution other than feeling you up every time you come in this room," Hermione said, giving him a half-smile. "I hope you aren't too disappointed."

"Actually, if you have a better idea, I'd appreciate it. The idea of constantly getting aroused and not getting relief doesn't thrill me by any means," the Potions Master said.

"I can let Voldemort experience my powers voluntarily. Will it to go to him. That will solve his lust problem. It is my power he is actually lusting after, and not me," she said, taking a bite of ham and chewing appreciatively.

Snape looked at her.

"You can do that?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure I can. Magic obeys me now. I think I've come to full power," she said.

Snape leaned back, his hunger sated and studied her.

"Yes, that sounds like a solution. Voldemort will be pleased by this. But…"

Snape's black eyes swept over her.

"…you are a lovely young witch, Miss Granger. He might still want you."

Hermione frowned for a moment.

"Well, hopefully his lust to experience my power, will supersede his lust to experience my body," she replied. "I am going to go to him right after breakfast and apologize for last night and offer to let him sample my power this evening, with the excuse it is easier for me to manipulate later in the day. He won't know the difference."

"Sounds like a plan," Snape said. He stretched again and patted his stomach. Hermione smirked. He seemed so normal right now.

"I hope that we can do the exchange of power unobserved. I'd feel more comfortable if it were just he, you and I," Hermione commented, eating some eggs.

"That shouldn't be a problem. Voldemort prefers not having an audience. Deatheaters are only in his presence when he feels voyeuristic, or has orders to give or wants to make a show of power. Other than that, he sits in there day and night alone."

"I noticed that. Doesn't he ever sleep?" Hermione asked.

"No. He has evolved past the need to sleep. He only requires to be fed. He doesn't even have to relieve himself," Snape said.

"What? Ew." Hermione said, scrunching up her face. But then again she couldn't picture the Dark Lord straining on the loo. She didn't want to either.

Snape chuckled.

"He is not human anymore, Miss Granger. His body functions mostly on magic now with the help of the venom potion he imbibes."

"Venom potion?" she asked, "What's that?"

Snape's face darkened. A potion I developed years ago to extend his life during his search for immortality. It has many…ingredients."

Hermione looked at him.

"I bet those ingredients cause people their lives," she said with a frown.

"Yes, they do," Snape said shortly. "But I do what is required of me, Miss Granger. If that means draining muggles of their vital fluids, then that is what I do. It is how I've served the Dark Lord these many years. But now he has other deatheaters adept at brewing, and I am no longer as valuable to him as I once was. And since I no longer can spy on Dumbledore and the Order, the only thing I have going for me…is you, Miss Granger. I have been regulated to sexually babysitting you to keep you happy."

"How far the mighty have fallen," Hermione snickered as Snape scowled at her blackly. She'd pay for her levity.

Snape stood up.

"May I use your shower, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Certainly," Hermione replied. A change of clothing for him appeared on the bed. Black pants, black silk boxers, a white dress shirt, and a fine quality black robes embroidered with black serpents. There were black socks also, and his boots were on the floor beside the bed. He looked down at them, then up at the witch.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he said, gathering them up and walking into the bathroom. He closed the door. In a moment Hermione heard the shower turn on.

She finished her breakfast, then exited her rooms and approached the Dark Lord, who sat sullenly on his throne. He hadn't had a pleasant night thinking about her and her powers.

Hermione stopped in front of Voldemort and gave him a curtsey. The Dark Lord's eyes swept over her. She looked lovely. He looked at her, one scaly brow raised.

"Yes, Primordial?" he lisped.

"My Lord, I would first like to apologize for my actions last night. You've accepted me as a guest in your domain and offered me your protection, and I repay you by thoughtlessly imposing my values on you. I am very, very sorry, my Lord, and spent last night trying to figure out how to make up for my terrible behavior. I believe I have found a solution that will please you," she said.

The Dark Lord perked up a bit. Maybe she would offer herself to him. It would only be right.

"What is your solution, Primordial?" he lisped.

"Your displeasure was because the Professor could not describe to you what it was like to experience my power. My Lord, I can make it so you can experience it yourself firsthand."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed with lust. Hermione fought back a blanch at the hungry look on the despot's face.

"Are you offering me the same pleasures you share with Severus?" the Dark Lord lisped. Hermione noted with horror that his robes in the loin area were moving, the fabric rippling. She must have aroused him.

"N-no, my Lord. I do not need to have sex with you to give you a taste of my power. The sharing of it during climax is not as strong as if I will it to go to you, my Lord. I would like to share my powers with you directly this afternoon. I seem to have more control of them in the evening," Hermione lied.

Voldemort was excited. Doing her really wasn't that important. She was pretty but he had plenty of beautiful deatheaters to choose from. If she were willing to let him experience her powers for himself, he was all for it. Possibly he would retain some of the raw magic and it would strengthen him. He was very, very pleased.

"Very well, Primordial. Your error last night is both forgiven and forgotten. And your solution pleases me. I look forward to this experience Primordial, very much. In return, I would like to grant you a boon. What would you like, my dear?" he asked.

"Your word that you will not torment the Professor with the Cruciatus again, my Lord," Hermione replied without giving it a second thought.

The Dark Lord frowned slightly. He had thought she would ask for something for herself, not for his servant. But a boon was a boon.

"Granted, Primordial," he lisped, "I hope Severus appreciates what you have done for him."

Hermione curtsied.

"Thank you, my Lord," she said, smiling at him. She headed back toward her rooms.

The Dark Lord tapped a long finger to his thin lips.

There were other forms of torture besides the Cruciatus curse. Severus was not beyond his power. The Dark Lord rubbed his hands together.

This evening would be quite the experience.


A/N: More to come. Thanks for reading.