Bound to Him

by georgesgurl117

At the behest of Lord Voldemort, Severus Snape is forced to commit a deplorable act against one who should have been under his protection. Bound by Dark Magic, he and Hermione Granger must learn to trust one another and themselves as they work together to thwart the dark plots surrounding them.

36. Girl Problems

A/N: A bit of a wait, but I do believe I've earned your forgiveness with this chapter. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Thank you all for your support and lovely reviews!

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Bound to Him

Chapter 36

"Hermione, wake up."

"Mhhhhmm." She pressed her head farther into her pillow.

"I need to talk to you," Ginny hissed. "Now!"

"Mhhhhmm."

The redhead sighed, snatching her own pillow from her bed. She hesitated a few seconds, then raised her weapon and brought it down upon her friend's head. "I need your advice! It's about Ron –"

Hermione winced without opening her eyes, fearing another conversation like the one she had earlier with Harry.

"—and Dean."

The older girl groaned but rolled over. "What?"

Ginny let out a loud breath and climbed into the bed next to her. "McGonagall made Dean the other sixth-year prefect. He just told me."

The brunette exhaled deeply and rubbed her eyes against the darkness of the night. "Ugh…fate hates me."

Ignoring her friend's mutterings, Ginny covered her face with her hands. "I need to know what to do – it's such a mess. I mean, Ron's gonna find out sooner or later. Sooner, actually, since they'll be switching beds tomorrow – er, later today."

"You're expecting me to tell him?" Hermione asked, raising a brow.

The younger girl shrugged. "Well… you know how to handle him."

Hermione snorted and turned over, pulling her pillow tight beneath her head. "Why don't you ask Lavender – she seems pretty knowledgeable in handling him."

Ginny lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Weren't you at the party?"

"Well, Dean and I ducked out early," she admitted. When she caught Hermione's pointed gaze, she blushed. "Not that! Just talking mostly… and some kissing. Now, what's this about Lavender?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She spent the majority of the evening on Ron's lap, doing the same thing you were doing with Dean."

The redhead's eyes bugged out of her head. "Lavender and Ron? But what about you and Ron?"

"There isn't a me and Ron, Gin," she shook her head.

"But I thought –"

"No."

Surprised by the finality in Hermione's tone, Ginny let the matter drop. She sighed and stared at the underside of the canopy. "Lavender, huh? I guess I could see it. It would also explain why she's been hanging around Quidditch practices all term."

Though Hermione said nothing, the redhead could almost hear her thinking through something.

"Hey, maybe she'll distract Ron enough to keep him from killing Dean!" Ginny stated cheerfully. "You think?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, if it were me, I'd consider using her as a distraction."

"Hmm," Ginny pondered the idea. "Well, it's worth a shot, no? I'll just have to make sure she's there when Ron finds out."

"Brilliant," Hermione muttered darkly, pulling on her bed covers. "May I go back to sleep now?"

"Oh, sorry!" Ginny whispered, jumping up from the bed and returning to her own. "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Gin," she closed her eyes. After several minutes, she huffed in frustration. "What do you mean you could see it?"

A small giggle erupted from the bed next to hers. "You know, for there not being a 'you and Ron,' you're awful concerned about it."

Hermione scowled into the darkness. "I'm no more concerned about Ron and Lavender than I am about you and Dean."

"But you've never once confronted Dean or I about it," Ginny countered.

"Well, that's because Ron gave the two of you enough confrontation for five people."

"Ah, true," the redhead nodded. "Though, you don't need to worry. If Lavender does anything untoward towards Ronniekins, I'll punch her myself."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Hermione widened her eyes in question as Snape cancelled his Legilimens.

"Better," he answered thoughtfully.

"How much better was it?" she asked. As a response, he gestured to the Pensieve already placed on his desk. Eagerly, she stepped forward and allowed him to extract the memories. When he finished, she touched her forehead to the swirling contents.

A minute later, she was expelled back into the office with a disappointed look on her face. The false memory had been less clear this time – almost as hazy as the real one, actually – but what discouraged her was that the fabrication had been more disjointed than her previous attempt.

"Your thoughts?" he asked.

The girl collapsed into her chair. "It was so choppy. I don't know what I did wrong."

Snape shrugged while putting the Pensieve away. "It's not as hopeless as you think."

"No?"

"No." He shook his head and took his seat. "Legilimency does not play out like a cinema film, Granger."

She narrowed her brow. "But when he showed me –"

"That wasn't exactly Legilimency the Dark Lord was using on you," he interrupted. "He was willingly pushing forth the memory, like you did when I extracted them for the Pensieve. True Legilimency results in… pieces, or flashes, if you will, of memories. While you certainly want to improve upon the connectedness of your fabrication, it is not as bleak as you assume."

"Flashes?"

Severus nodded and linked his fingers in his lap. "Legilimency is a tricky area – which is why there are so few witches and wizards capable of doing it correctly. The more …willing to undergo the intrusion the subject is, the easier it is to accomplish anything…and the more complete the images are."

"You hesitated on the word willing," she crossed her arms. "Why?"

He blew out an uncomfortable breath. "Perhaps I should've said the more willing or unaware a subject is."

"So you can see more than he can because I let you? Doesn't that put us at a disadvantage? I mean, you're supposed to make sure I'm willing to have him in my head, so wouldn't that give it away?"

The wizard pushed on his forehead. "It might have posed a problem if he weren't a megalomaniacal sadist."

"What do you mean?"

"The Dark Lord…he…" Snape contemplated how to phrase his answer. "He gets off on causing others pain –"

"Yes, I'm aware of the definition of the word 'sadist', Professor," Hermione interrupted, earning herself a glare from the Potions Master.

"Of course you are, Granger," he sneered. "Knowing you, you've likely used the dictionary as a bedtime story."

"Only when I've finished the telephone directory," she responded automatically. A blush spread across her cheeks as she glanced at him. She had meant to respectfully ignore his sarcasm and not ignite his temper further, since she had already rudely interrupted him once.

To her surprise, though, the man snorted and was as close to a smile as she had ever seen him be. After recognizing that, she blushed deeper and dropped her gaze to her lap. "Though, I must admit I'm dreadfully behind on editions since coming to Hogwarts."

"Indeed." Severus leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "As I was saying, the Dark Lord does not do anything gently if he can do it while inflicting tremendous pain. The human body, however, has several self-preservation mechanisms built into it. Pain is a warning, and most people are wired to avoid it. When you touch a hot stove, you yank your hand away. It requires no conscious thought."

"It's a reflex."

He nodded before continuing. "The Dark Lord believes the more pain an individual experiences, the more likely he or she is willing to do anything to end the pain. That may be true when trying to torture someone in order to verbally reveal a secret. However, loosening someone's tongue, as they say, and loosening someone's mind are completely different things. As a general rule, pain decreases willingness. If it hurts, you don't wish to do it anymore. If you're lying on the ground, utterly defenseless, and several people are kicking at you, what do you do?"

Hermione bit her lip and raised an eyebrow. "Curl up in ball and protect vital organs?"

"Exactly. You had to think about it now but in that situation, you would have responded immediately. It's instinctual to protect yourself. The same is true with Legilimency, where someone else is entering your mind. If someone is beating at you through your mind, you will automatically do whatever you can to limit the contact."

"Like when I accidentally threw you across the room?"

"Yes." He grimaced at the memory of being surrounded by broken glass but pushed it aside. "That's why the first thing I had you do was learn how to control your emotions. If you had not disciplined your magic well enough before being summoned to the Dark Lord, it would have unconsciously tried to protect you as well. The Dark Lord, however, has never realized this. He fails to grasp that the more agonizing you make the process, the less likely you are to see everything as the… participant will be unconsciously – or even consciously – fighting you."

"Huh," she grunted. "I've never read about that in any of the books I've found on the subject."

"Of course you haven't."

Hermione glanced at him slyly. "It wouldn't be in any books at all, would it?"

"If it were, we would not be having this conversation. I would have been dead years ago, for the Dark Lord was just as avid a reader as you are."

"So you're the only one who's figured this out so far?"

"The likelihood that another Legilimens has spent any time studying Muggle science is slim, and Muggles are still highly mystified by 'mind-readers'," he responded thoughtfully. "Though, I have my suspicions that the Headmaster has come to similar conclusions."

"He isn't as gentle as you," she replied.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Well, I mean…erm… when you were teaching me to notice the signs of intrusion, it took forever to notice it," she explained. "But after that, whenever Professor Dumbledore attempts it, it's like… well, almost like a… It's hard to describe, isn't it? Okay, say that when you do it, it's like someone brushing against your arm, but when he does, it's like being poked. Does that make sense? He's less subtle about it than you are."

Entertained by her explanation, the wizard smirked. "Well, one cannot forget the fact that, despite all of his scheming, the Headmaster is still very much a Gryffindor."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

With her studies, training in a new prefect, and her personal defense lesson with Snape on Thursday night, the rest of the week flew by faster than Hermione thought possible. As she was busier this year than ever before, her assignments were being completed closer to the deadlines than they had ever been. Thus, she was constantly found herself checking and re-checking her assignment journal.

"Harry, are you positive the Defense essay isn't due until next Friday?" she panicked, flipping through the pages of her book. "And not today?"

"Pretty sure," he munched on a strip of bacon. "If it's due today, we're all in trouble."

"We have a Defense essay?" Ron looked over in surprise, interrupting his Quidditch conversation with Lavender.

"Five inches on different shielding spells," Hermione muttered upon finding the right page. She sighed in relief and let the book fall closed. "Due next Friday."

"Bloody hell," the redhead mumbled. "I forgot about that."

"Perhaps you should write things down, Ronald."

"In order to do that, he'd have to stop thinking about snogging his girlfriend," Harry laughed.

"And what's wrong about thinking about that?" Lavender leaned her head against Ron's shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "What she said."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked away from the pair. When she felt Harry's gaze, she glared at him and shoved her plate towards the center of the table. Finding she was no longer hungry, she grabbed her journal and her book bag, and climbed off of the bench.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"I'm just going to visit the loo before class. I'll see you in a few minutes, or whenever they finish their… lovefest."

The dark-haired boy nodded and waved her away. She doubted Ron even noticed her departure as he was completely wrapped up in Lavender's giggling and eyelash batting.

As she pushed through the doors of the Great Hall and walked toward the staircases, she let out a deep breath. Tomorrow would mark the one week anniversary of Ron's relationship with the blonde, and she knew Lavender was already making a fuss about it. No doubt they would be snogging all over Gryffindor Tower that weekend, leaving Hermione to find somewhere else to hide. It was one thing to have set them up, but it was an entirely different thing to watch them flaunt it in her face.

Hermione frowned, stepping onto the staircase. It seemed stupid to celebrate after a week – that was hardly any great accomplishment. Second years had relationships that lasted longer than that. Dung Beetles had relationships that lasted longer than that.

Then again, who knows how many weeks anyone has left? Maybe Lavender was not as foolish as she looked. It had certainly surprised Hermione to discover the girl had watched Quidditch practices for the entire term, rather than just the one after Hermione had approached her. She had known Lavender fancied Ron on some level but never suspected she fancied him that much. Perhaps Lavender had been motivated more by the fear of losing Ron than by the opportunity to compete with her former roommate.

And if that's true, can I really hate her? Hermione bit her lip while climbing the last flight of stairs. Especially considering I pushed her in his direction on purpose?

"No," she whispered glumly, reaching the hallway of the Defense classroom. With a sigh, she sat against the sill of a window and stared into space.

Maybe Ron was never that interested in me anyway. He seems rather enamored by Lavender. Could he have been fancied her all along? Though it depressed her, Hermione was starting to see what Ginny had mentioned the other night. Hermione always bossed Ron into seeing things her way; Lavender cooed at him sweetly and convinced him things would be alright.

Ron had hardly even made a fuss when Ginny and Dean and told him about the replacement. Hermione had seen the red creeping into his face and braced herself for a blow-out, but Lavender quickly grabbed hold of his hands and giggled that he would now be one floor closer to her. And it had worked! He had practically melted into a puddle right before her, almost as if she had him under a spell, or a love potion, or something. But even if Lavender Brown were skilled enough to correctly brew a love potion, Hermione knew better. The only spell Ron was under was one of nature's own and oldest.

Sighing, Hermione leaned back against the window frame. If the world were to end tomorrow, Ron and Lavender would have had a week filled with giggling, Quidditch, and snogging. And what would I have? A conversation about Legilimency and a stupid joke about telephone directories?

As lame as she found the thought, Hermione felt herself smile. She was one of few people to know that Severus Snape had a sense of humor… and an inordinate supply of patience. No one who had ever been his student would believe either of those facts, yet she knew them to be truth. He dealt with her roller coaster of emotions and outbursts better than anyone could have predicted and was gentle and caring when the situation called for it. If she had not experienced it, she never would have thought it possible.

Voices drifted down the hallway as Hermione fiddled with the edges of her assignment journal. A compulsion to check her assignments for the day hit once again, and she cracked open the book to the correct date. She nodded at the page, knowing she had completed both the Herbology reading and the Arithmancy problem set. She was about to close the journal when another thought suddenly hit her.

It was the thirteenth of November. It had already been a fortnight since she stood before Voldemort, which meant it had been a fortnight since she and Snape last had sex. The potion he used before had extended the time in between from two weeks to three, but would it be the same since they had not used it? She still felt alright – better than she had all term, in fact – but how long would that last?

Chewing on her lip, Hermione flipped the page to the next week, realizing the need would probably arise during one of those days. At noticing a red dot next to Tuesday's heading, all color drained from her face.

That can't be right, she frowned. Quickly, she flipped through the pages until she found another week marked with red dots.

The noise level of the hallway increased as students lined up at the door, but Hermione tuned them all out. Her focus was entirely on counting out the days since the last one marked in red. A knot began forming in her stomach as she again flipped back to the other week and counted out the days, determined to find that she had miscounted somehow. Again she ended her count on Monday. Shoulders slumped, she squeezed her eyes shut. There had always been thirty-one days in between her periods since they had first started, minus the one she had missed two months before.

"Hermione, are you coming?"

She looked up in surprise to see the hallway was empty, and Harry was gesturing towards the open classroom door.

"Erm, yeah," she nodded, closing her book and hurrying after him. "Sorry, I was lost in thought."

"I noticed," he smirked. "Anything I can help with?"

The witch laughed nervously and shook her head. "Girl problems, Harry."

"Oh," he grimaced, his face turning beet red. "So…about Defense class, then…"

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

For once, Hermione was glad Harry and Ron had continued their enrollment in Divination class. Ron took off as fast as he could to meet up with Lavender beforehand, and Harry flashed her a pained look before following after him. She was sympathetic to Harry's plight but grateful to escape to the dungeons without question.

She knew Snape had a half hour break between his NEWT-level class and one of his fourth-year lectures. With any luck, he would still be in a good mood, having only faced one round of dunderheads.

Descending the last flight of stairs, she tried to quell the twisting of her stomach. She had considered contacting him mentally but ultimately decided this was something she needed to do in person. If only her nerves were as concrete as her logic.

When she noticed his office door was ajar, she briefly contemplated fleeing back up the stairs to safety. After letting out a shaky breath, however, she strengthened her resolve and pushed forward. With feigned confidence, she knocked on the open door.

"Professor, may I speak to you for a minute?"

Snape sat at his desk, organizing a stack of papers. Without looking up, he nodded and waved her forward.

Closing the door behind her, she tried to control the shaking of her hands as she stepped towards his desk. When he stood from his desk and held out his hand expectantly, she raised her brow in a question.

Taking note of her expression, the wizard cleared his throat. "I assumed you had a letter you needed me to post."

"Oh!" Eyes widened, Hermione placed one hand on her head and dropped her bag to the ground. "I completely forgot about that! I haven't written it yet."

He lifted his eyebrows but dropped his hand back to his side. He then pulled a book from the shelf and began flipping through it. "What is it you need, Granger?"

"Well…you see, sir…it's been two weeks since we…erm, renewed the bond."

He stiffened but allowed her to continue.

"So far, we've had approximately three weeks in between." She fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. "That would put it sometime next week."

Severus let out a sigh and nodded.

"But…" She hesitated, digging up the courage to keep talking. "But I was thinking we might want to take care of it before then. Otherwise, it could get rather messy."

The wizard narrowed his eyes in confusion and closed his book. "I don't follow."

"Oh, Merlin," she buried her face in her hands.

"Granger."

She slowly dropped her hands. "Look, next week is just bad."

"Bad?"

Hermione stared imploringly at him. "Think about it, sir."

"Think about what?" he said bewilderedly. "You haven't bloody given me anything to go on!"

"I'm a girl," she responded. Figure it out so I don't have to say it!

"Well, I've realized that already," he grumbled. "What does that have to do with the price of fish in London?"

The witch balled her hands up into fists and slammed her eyes shut.

"Granger, I don't have time for th –"

"It means that next week is my monthly!"

An awkward silence fell upon the room, and the girl held her breath. Snape all but froze in place, and his face turned nearly as red as Harry's had. Groaning quietly, Hermione wished for nothing more than to be suddenly swallowed up by the floor.

It took a few seconds for the Potions Master to recover. When he did, he let out a slow breath and ran his free hand through his hair. "Yes, well, I guess that is a factor for consideration."

A soft snort was all she could manage as she attempted not to die of embarrassment. Wouldn't that make for an unforgettable obituary? Rita Skeeter would give her left arm to write that one.

"I suppose we've been fortunate not to have run into it before now," he said quietly, fixing his eyes on the cover of his book.

"We probably would have if I hadn't been so wound-up," she shrugged, staring at the floor. "I completely missed last month's and thought for sure I was pregnant."

A loud thump and crunch of glass caused Hermione to glance up in surprise. The professor had gone deathly still. All color had vanished from his face. His eyes were wide with shock and both hands were empty in mid-air. The book he had been holding had dropped to the desk, knocking over his inkwell. Red ink spilled out across the top of his desk.

"Professor, the ink!"

Severus snapped out of his stupor and glanced down to see the growing mess. Hastily, he grabbed a rag from behind him and dabbed at the mess.

"It's going to ruin the essays," she hissed, pulling out her wand. "Evanesco!"

The expanding pool of red ink vanished, and she quickly set the inkwell upright to prevent further loss of ink. Stepping back from the desk, though, she noticed he was still staring at her in shock. His mouth was open as if he was going to say something, but when nothing came out, he slammed it shut.

Two seconds later, he finally managed a breathy two words. "Are you?"

Her eyes narrowed in confusion for half a second before widening in realization. "Oh, no! No, I'm not! Oh, god – I shouldn't have said that. I wasn't preg – I'm not pregnant."

"You're sure?" he asked. A hint of color was coming back to his features.

"Yes," she nodded vigorously. "Madame Pomfrey performed the test; it was definitely negative. She said it was just stress and that everything would right itself when I started eating and sleeping better. That's why I came to you for the other sleeping potion."

Snape let out a large puff of air and ran his hands over his mouth before collapsing in his chair. His heart was beating erratically, and adrenaline was coursing through his system. He had spent nearly twenty years as a spy, lost the love of his life, had grown up hiding from his father, and yet he never felt more afraid than he had the second the word 'pregnant' reached his ears. As the girl assured him it was not the case, the panic started to recede from his thoughts, but it still took a moment for the rest of what she said to fully sink in and make sense.

Madame Pomfrey performed the test. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You went to Poppy without telling me?"

Hermione shifted nervously on her feet. "Well, I was scared to tell you. I didn't want to say anything unless I had to… unless I knew for sure. When the results came back negative, I didn't want to bother you with it. Believe me, Professor, telling you about my menstrual cycle is something I never ever wanted to do."

"And now Poppy knows you're sexually active," he muttered.

"She suspects it, at least," she answered. "I didn't tell her anything, though."

He stared at her incredulously. "You got her to perform a pregnancy charm without telling her anything?"

"Not exactly. I sort of had an anxiety attack and blamed it on the fact that I didn't know whether anyone had given me a contraceptive after…after the first time."

Severus pinched his eyes shut. "You didn't think I would have –"

"That isn't what I said!" she snapped. "I couldn't exactly tell her the truth, could I?"

He let out a measured breath and shook his head. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "In the future, Miss Granger, if you have… those concerns, you will seek me out, immediately. Is that understood?"

"You know how to perform that spell?" she asked.

"No, but there are other options. Muggle methods are nearly as reliable. It would not be difficult obtain a Muggle pregnancy test."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Not only was she discussing feminine matters with Professor Snape, but he was actually willing to find a Muggle chemist's shop and buy a wee-stick for her. She would surely be shipped off to St. Mungo's if she ever tried to tell anyone about it.

"You don't think it a valid option?" he asked, misconstruing the reason for her expression.

"What?" she asked, before figuring out what he had said. "Oh, no – it's certainly valid. It's just…just a little surreal to be having this conversation."

Snape nodded in agreement. As a thought formed in his mind, he narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Miss Granger, when did this happen?"

"Erm, well it was the day before I asked for the other sleeping draught," she answered, scrunching up her nose in thought. "The last day of September, I think."

At his dejected expression, she tilted her head in confusion. "Professor, what's wrong?"

"Lupin," he muttered, covering his eyes with his hand.

"What about Professor Lupin?"

"He confronted me that day," he answered. "He knew you had been… assaulted, and was angry I had not discussed it in detail with the rest of the Order."

"What?" she paled. "How does he know?"

"He overheard you and Pomfrey."

Her hand flew to her mouth. "That's why he's been watching me, isn't it?"

"Watching you?"

"I-in class…and at meals." Hermione frowned. "It's like he's always concerned that I'm either going to blow up or fall apart. It's rather annoying, actually."

Severus was about to reply when a single chime sounded. Sighing, he glanced at the clock and stood from his chair. "I have class shortly, Miss Granger."

"Oh," she pushed herself up from the chair and picked up her book bag. "Erm, about what I actually came here for?"

The wizard let out a deep breath and nodded. "You have rounds tonight?"

"Yes."

"I can meet you at the Room of Requirement afterwards."

She grimaced. "Can we please not do it there?"

He looked at her in surprise but relented. "Alright. You may Disillusion yourself and come here."

"Thank you," she nodded in relief. She reached for the door handle when he called out.

"Granger?"

"Yes?" she turned to face him.

He shifted uncomfortably. "If you could, wear something else."

Hermione's face twisted in confusion. "What…erm, what am I supposed to wear then?"

He shook his head. "I don't care. Just not…that."

"Erm, alright," she said in an odd voice.

After she disappeared into the hallway, Snape let out another long gust of air and wiped his hand over his face. His heart had finally returned to its normal pace, but his nerves were still on edge. How he was supposed to teach a bunch of squirming students after that conversation, he did not know. He briefly entertained the notion of cancelling the rest of his classes for the day and spending the remaining hours buried in Minerva's liquor cabinet. However, he had already cancelled one Friday's set of lessons – he could not afford to do it again. Plus if Minerva were to question him on it, then he would have to be the one to have feminine discussions with her.

And Merlin knows there isn't enough liquor in all of Scotland for that.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"You seem awful twitchy tonight," Hermione remarked, eyeing her partner curiously.

Dean looked at her and shook his head. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just supposed to help Gin with her Charms homework tonight. I think she's worried about the OWLS already."

She narrowed her eyes. "I highly doubt that."

"What?"

The witch snorted and shook her head. "Have you seen Gin's Bat Bogey Hex? There's no way she's having difficulty in Charms."

"Well, that's what she said," he argued. "She said we should work on our Charms together tonight."

Are all men this dense? She rolled her eyes. "I don't think she meant homework by that."

"What do you mean – Oh!"

Realization dawned on his face, and Hermione could hardly keep from laughing.

Dean suddenly glanced down at his watch. "You think we could speed this up any?"

"Dean."

Her serious tone caught the boy by surprise. "Huh?"

"You and Ginny haven't…"

He shook his head. "No, I swear we haven't. I don't think either of us are ready for that yet."

"Good," she stated. "Because if you hurt her, Ron is the least of your worries."

"What, I have to watch out for you, too?" he asked, raising his brow.

"I didn't mean me," she laughed. "You have seen Gin's Bat Bogey Hex, right? Don't think that's the extent of her ability."

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Don't mention it," she muttered, gesturing towards the staircase. "Well, go on then."

"Go where?"

Hermione widened her eyes. "Don't you have Charms practice to get to?"

"But we haven't finished rounds yet."

"I'll be fine. You might as well take advantage of Ron being tied up with Lavender. As soon as that fizzles out, you can bet he'll be right back in your face."

Dean nodded slowly. "You're probably right about that. I'll definitely pay you back for this, Hermione."

The witch waited until several minutes after he had disappeared from sight, and then spun quickly on her heel. It was a blessing in disguise that Ron had lost his position to the other boy. If Ron had been with her instead, she would never have been able to leave his side.

With a glance down each end of the hallway, she whispered the password to the Prefect's bathroom and slipped into the room. When the stained glass mermaid smiled in greeting, Hermione gave the jewel-toned figure a hesitant wave before moving toward the row of sinks. Turning on one of the faucets, she glanced half-heartedly in the mirror before splashing a handful of cold water over her face.

"You can do this, Hermione," she stated forcefully, gripping the edges of the sink. She blew out a heavy breath and unfastened her school robes. As she slipped them from her shoulders, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Instead of the usual blouse and skirt she wore as part of the school uniform, she had switched into a white sweater and a pair of jeans. She was not sure that was what she was supposed to wear or why she was even required to change, but the man had not been very forthcoming on how he wanted her to dress.

Stop thinking about it, she told herself. You're only making it harder.

Closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath, she stepped away from the mirrors. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed the mermaid was staring at her with a curious expression on her face.

"I can do this, right?" she asked of the window.

A soft smile came over the figure's face and she flipped her tail playfully.

Taking that as a good sign, Hermione moved towards the door. She held her school robes in one hand and her wand in the other. Quickly, she Disillusioned herself and made her way down to the dungeons. When she reached Snape's office, she paused for a moment to collect herself.

Breathing in deeply, she knocked on the door. It was pulled open two seconds later, and Snape waited until he saw the slight shimmer of her form step into the office before shutting it again.

The girl removed the concealing charm and turned to look at him. He had already taken off his teaching robes and frock coat, and was currently sporting a white button-up and black trousers. Glancing back at her own clothing, she blushed. "Is this alright?"

"What?" When he figured out she was referring to her outfit, he gave an uncomfortable nod. "Oh. Yes, it's fine."

She let out a breath she was not aware she had been holding and watched as he crossed behind his desk. Her eyes widened at the sudden appearance of a door in the brick wall. When the door swung open, she did as he instructed and moved to follow him. As they quietly moved up the narrow stone staircase, Hermione found it strange she had never even suspected a secret passage could be behind that wall.

Upon reaching a small landing, she watched another door appear at the sound of the Potion Master's voice. He turned the brass knob and held open the door for her. Hermione stepped across the threshold and looked around in surprise at his bedroom.

"So that's where that door goes," she mumbled quietly as she set her wand and robe on top of a bookshelf.

"One of the great mysteries solved," he muttered, pulling open the drawer of his bedside table. He quickly snatched a slender vial from it and held it out to her.

The girl cautiously took the flask and stared at the salmon-colored contents for a long moment. With a deep breath, she pulled out the stopper and tossed back the contents. Setting the empty container on the bookshelf, she looked to the bed where Snape was seated in the process of removing his dragon-hide boots. Rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, she quietly crossed over to the bed and perched next to him. She kicked off her flats and stared at her bare feet for a few seconds before raising her gaze to the dark expanse of the window.

For the first time in a week, the sky was clear of clouds, leaving the stars perfectly visible. Hermione gave half a smile as she took in the sight of the Black Lake moving gently beneath the waning gibbous moon. A glance out of the corner of her eye confirmed the Potions Master was staring at the same sight as she was. Shifting her focus again to the window, she sighed and pressed her teeth into her bottom lip.

The silence in the room was strangely both comforting and unsettling. There were no real pressing time constraints on the engagement – none that mattered to her, at any rate. She was not in any risk of pain or suffering, which meant he did not find himself forced into action. Unfortunately, though, it left them both in the uncomfortable position of figuring out where and how to start.

When, after several minutes, he made no advances towards her, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and blew out a deep breath. She was growing weary of the awkwardness between them and decided she was just as capable of starting things as he was. Pulling her legs beneath her, she knelt on the mattress and turned to face him. Hesitantly, she reached toward the side of his face. When he glanced at her in mild surprise, she drew her hand back slightly.

"Erm," she whispered, holding her hand frozen in mid-air. "May I?"

Snape widened his eyes, astonished by her request. When he nodded, he noticed the rigid uncertainty in her features soften into something resembling curiosity. He sat perfectly still as she moved the hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. Her eyes were held in a determined gaze as her fingertips delicately traced the line of his jaw.

As she explored the contours of his face, Hermione mentally called forth everything he had done for her in the past few months. Images, which came to mind before their previous renewals, of Voldemort and the binding ceremony were chased away by memories of him tending to her wounds, holding her while she cried, confessing he had saved her parents, and expressing pain and remorse after he had been forced to hurt her.

When the nightmarish images had all but vanished, and her mind was filled only with gratitude toward the man in front of her, she gently touched her finger to his lips. His eyelids, which had fluttered closed during her ministrations, suddenly flashed open, and his darkened gaze immediately sought out hers. His chest rose and fell with anticipation as her gaze flicked between his eyes and his mouth. Slowly, she leaned towards him, tentatively pressing her lips against his.

Severus let out a soft moan, moving his hand from the mattress to the side of her cheek as he kissed her in return. As his head was in an awkward angle, he used his other hand to pull her onto his lap. The young witch startled at the change in position and blushed furiously upon realizing she was now straddling her professor. The awkwardness was soon forgotten, however, when he stroked her cheek with his thumb and softly caught her lips with his.

Heat flared through her body as she melted against him, allowing both of her hands to rest atop his shoulders. As the kiss deepened, the hand on her cheek slid behind her head and the one on her knee moved to her waist. She felt his mouth open against hers and followed suit. A guttural noise escaped her as his tongue slipped into her mouth and slid along her own.

Snape dropped both hands to her hips and slowly pushed up the soft fabric of her jumper. She jerked at the feeling of his fingers on her heated flesh, and he groaned deeply at her sudden contact with the bulge in his trousers. A small sense of disappointment washed over her when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss to focus completely on removing her sweater. When the garment was pulled over her head and successfully tossed away, though, she was overcome with the desire to feel his flesh against hers.

Hermione quickly turned her attention to his shirt, frowning as her fingers fumbled with the small buttons. Larger fingers soon overtook hers and finished the task faster than she would have been able to manage. When the article of clothing was finally cast aside, she smoothed her hands over the pale skin of his torso.

It was the first time she would see him completely naked, a fact that escaped neither of their notice. Three months had passed since the girl's privacy had been all but forfeited to him. Her bare body had been gifted to him; her mind had been laid open before him; and her innocence had been sacrificed upon an altar so he might live to die another day. It was for this reason he had so swiftly forgiven her for piecing together his love for Lily. After all, what was her intrusion on his past when compared to his incursion on her future?

It was for those reasons he tamped down all urges to pull away from the girl when her fingers traced over the scars on his chest. Scars from his father, scars from his run-ins with the Marauders, scars from his service to the Dark Lord and to Dumbledore – every imperfection he wished to keep hidden from the world was now exposed to her. His self-consciousness and desire for introversion were kept in check by the knowledge that it was only fair turnabout.

Eventually, his logical head ceased its hold on the reins, and biology took over as his hands reached for the clasp of her bra. As it too disappeared to the floor, his hands replaced the fabric's presence upon her breasts, and delicious whimpers tumbled forth from her mouth as he flicked his thumbs over her nipples.

Desperately trying to keep some control in her own head, Hermione dug her nails into the flesh of his chest. The heat that began with their kissing multiplied exponentially until her body was a raging inferno. Feeling as though she were going to explode at any moment, she arched away from him, only to have him follow her. When his lips attached to the soft skin of her neck, it provided the very spark she feared would lead to her undoing.

As she cried out in release, Severus became painfully aware of his own need for relief. A moment of clarity surfaced long enough for him to realize it would all be for naught if he allowed this to end before even reaching the act itself. While the girl in his lap slowly tumbled back into reality, he stood long enough to turn down the bed covers before placing her in the center of his bed. Gently, he unfastened and pulled off her jeans, then quickly removed his own trousers and pants.

Climbing into bed beside her, he waited until Hermione found him with her glossy eyes before making any attempt to remove her soaked knickers. He knew she was at least partially aware of the situation; a fact further confirmed when she lifted her hips to aid in their removal. When he successfully slipped them from her toes, he pulled the covers over them and turned his gaze back to her face.

"Hermione," he whispered, catching her attention. "I need to know if you're ready."

The young witch swallowed a gulp of air but nodded emphatically. Recognizing the awareness in her eyes, he gracefully shifted atop her frame. Cautiously he entered her and was rewarded with a throaty groan as her hands sought purchase on his back. As he began moving within her, she whimpered and erratically thrust her hips towards him.

Pleasantly surprised by her attempted involvement, he paused in his strokes. He pressed his lips to her temple and spoke in a soft pant. "Wrap your legs about my waist."

As she followed the direction, it deepened their connection and drew matching groans from the pair. Feeling his control beginning to give way, he quickly breathed in her ear. "Move when I move."

The girl nodded and began pushing back in response to his motions. After a few miscalculated thrusts, she found his rhythm. It was not long before they were both sent soaring over the edge.

Hermione gasped for air as the wizard rolled away from her. There was no denying she was hot and tired and sweaty, but she felt better – happier, even—than she had her entire life. The pleasure she had experienced after their last encounter paled in comparison to what she was experiencing in the present moment. As she struggled to breathe, she stared at the dark ceiling, contemplating her new definition of the word 'sated' and doubting very much in her ability to verbalize any sort of sentiment.

After several minutes, she wiped a hand through her hair and blew out a deep breath. When she felt the bed shift, she lazily glanced at the man beside her. He sat with his back to the headboard and the sheets pulled up to his waist. Her eyebrows narrowed in surprise, however, at the pained look that adorned his face.

"Professor?" She pushed herself into a seated position and clasped the edge of the sheets to her chest. "Are you alright?"

At her voice, his eyes slammed shut and his expression morphed into one of utter disgust.

Cheeks flushed in shame, Hermione felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. He was disappointed with her – she had tried to do as he had instructed, but apparently it had not been enough.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, slipping from the bed to snatch up her discarded clothing. "I've just never done this before…"

Severus's eyes flashed open and looked at her in confusion. Realization dawned quickly, and he felt as though he had been kicked in the gut at the sight of her distress. Leaning across the bed, he grabbed hold of her wrist and tugged her back into the bed.

"Hermione," he pleaded, shaking his head, "It's not that…I have no complaints about...about that."

She pulled her arm away from him and, feeling suddenly exposed, yanked the covers over the front of her body. "Then what is it?"

Snape exhaled deeply and bore an uncomfortable expression on his face. Noticing the tears threatening to leak from her eyes, he knew he should have kept tighter control of his emotions. He had been angry with himself over how he spoke to her during their union. He had told her what to do, leaving her with no option but to obey. And when she had referred to him by his professional title, the realization he had just fully enjoyed bedding a student settled deep within his conscience, sickening him.

But she had mistaken his self-loathing for criticism of her performance. Though he wished to avoid telling her the truth, he knew it was something he had to do. His conversation with Minerva kept replaying in his head along with the promise of honesty he had made to the girl.

Sighing, he met her expectant gaze. "I did not mean to force you to do anything you did not wish to do."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "What are you talking about? I didn't do anything tonight I didn't want to do. You didn't make me do anything. I was the one who came to you, and I…started it."

As he gave a relieved breath, she drew the covers tighter against her chest. "Is there something else wrong?"

Severus nodded slowly and paused for a long moment, attempting to find the words. "This is… difficult for me. You are… You are still my student, and it is difficult for me to not see you as such. Sleeping with students is something to which I am vehemently opposed. I did not even sleep with students when I was a student."

"Oh," she responded softly. She pulled her knees to her chest, feeling foolish for not considering that possibility. "Is that why you asked me to wear something else?"

He sighed and nodded.

"I suppose it doesn't help if I keep calling you 'Professor', either," she stated a few seconds later.

Snape snorted and shook his head. "No. It doesn't."

Hermione blew out a deep breath and pursed her lips in thought. "I could drop Potions if –"

"No," he snapped.

"But if it makes it easier –"

"No," he repeated with emphasis. "You will not sacrifice your studies. It wouldn't make a damn bit of difference even if you did. I still have five years of incessant arm-waving fully stocked in my head."

Fighting a smirk, the witch turned her eyes toward him. "If you're worried you'll get stuck with Harry alone, I guarantee he'll drop the class the moment he finds out I did."

He fixed her with a dangerous glare, which caused her to drop her gaze to the bed cover. With a shuddering sigh, she rested her head atop her knees. "It's probably not what you want to hear, but I think I'd rather pretend I'm having an illicit affair with my Potions professor than accept the reality of the situation."

Severus winced and found his gaze drawn to her lower back. The injury had long since turned to scar, but the edges of his name were clearly visible from where he sat. Likely the scar would remain for the rest of her life. Grimacing, he tore his eyes away from her body and stared at the wall.

"I thought it made you feel cheap," he muttered after a few seconds had passed.

Hermione gave half a grin and shook her head against her knees. "Only when you were fixing my marks. If I were sleeping with you for the grades, that would make me feel cheap. If I were simply sleeping with you to sleep with you, then it would feel…erm, I don't know… exciting, maybe."

The wizard raised his eyebrow and glanced at her incredulously. "Exciting?"

"Well, it would be," she murmured as her face flushed red. "It's forbidden and sneaky and risqué and…"

"Exciting," he repeated in disbelief. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Granger, please don't tell me you've been harboring secret fantasies about teacher-student relationships."

The girl barked in laughter and shook her head. "Oh god, no! I only mentioned it hypothetically because that's technically what we're in, isn't it?"

Snape snorted and leaned his head against the headboard. "Minerva told me to think of it as an arranged marriage."

The young witch wrinkled her nose. "That's rather horrid."

"My thoughts exactly," he answered. When the sound of chimes drifted in from the sitting room, he sighed. "It's getting late. You should return to your dormitory before anyone notices that you're missing and runs screaming to the Headmaster."

Hermione gave a tight smile and nodded. Slipping cautiously from the bed, she grabbed at her clothes and covered herself as best she could. The wizard turned his body toward the wall to give her some measure of privacy as she crossed the distance to the bathroom. When he heard the door latch closed, he wordlessly summoned his own clothing. After dressing, he sauntered into the sitting room and collapsed into his armchair.

"Do you want me to leave from here or from your office?" she asked, stepping into the room as she pulled her school robes over her Muggle attire.

Severus glanced at the clock on his mantle and let out a slow breath. "Filch is likely patrolling the dungeons at this time of night. I highly doubt Minerva would take points if she caught you in her corridor."

"Her corridor?" she asked curiously. "Isn't it your corridor as well?"

He responded with a grunt. "Good night, Granger."

Rolling her eyes, the girl moved towards the door. "Good night, Prof—erm, Good night."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Blowing out an exasperated breath, Remus Lupin stared out one of the windows on the sixth floor. His scheduled patrol ended nearly an hour before, but the man could find no desire to return to his quarters just yet. He had been feeling restless for several days, only managing a few hours of sleep each night. It was a side effect of the Wolfsbane potion, he knew. The stress of the transformation would leave him exhausted for a few days, and the next three or four days would find him feeling jittery and anxious. He once jokingly accused Snape of spiking the brew with caffeine, only to have the Slytherin glare at him and shove an old, musty potions manual under his nose. There, written in the calligraphic script of old, was list of ingredients, which included the requirement for 'seven Afrikan kola nuts of middle size'.

Remus chuckled under his breath, recalling the man's response.

"Of course it contains caffeine, you dimmock! Though if you think yourself suddenly wise in the art of potion brewing, I would gladly remove it from your next batch. It might be interesting to witness the result of your transformation without anything to stimulate your brain function or suppress your appetite. Then again, perhaps not. In the event any student deaths occur, they could surely be chalked up to research this time instead of to your simple, yet staggering supply of stupidity!"

With a soft sigh, the man shook his head and turned away from the window. If he could not sleep, he might as well make use of the time by getting a head start on his marking. He reached the staircase with the intent of returning to his second-floor office. When he rounded the corner of the first half-story, he gave a surprised grunt as he collided with an invisible entity.

A female cry was heard as he fell back against the steps, and he instinctively reached out to grab the other person before she tumbled down the stairs. The slight shimmer around her form was a tell-tale sign of the Disillusionment charm, and he slipped out his wand to remove it.

As the concealment melted away to reveal he was currently holding Hermione Granger around the waist, his eyes widened in shock. "Hermione? What are you doing out past curfew?"

The girl grimaced slightly as he released her. "I got side-tracked while on rounds and was just rushing to finish them."

His voice was skeptic. "While Disillusioned?"

"Well, there are a few reasons for that actually," she responded, shifting on her feet. "First off, it never hurts to practice, and it gives me the benefit of surprise if someone is out of line. If I'm quiet, they don't see me coming until it's too late. Plus…"

She paused a moment, and her eyes drifted to her feet. "Plus, it makes me feel safer."

Lupin closed his eyes in pained understanding and nodded his head. Blowing out a small breath, he gestured up the stairs. "Alright, well, I just walked the upper floors, so you might as well head back to the tower now."

"Okay," she nodded.

He offered her a lopsided smile. "Though, you should count yourself lucky that tonight was my night to patrol. Professor Snape may not have been so forgiving."

A strange expression flashed across her face before she smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Professor. Good night."

"Good night," he responded. As she sprinted past him up the stairs, however, a strong rush of scent washed over him. Narrowing his brow, he lightly sniffed at the air. His eyes flashed in recognition of the smell and snapped in the direction from which she had appeared. He then frowned and determinedly stomped down the steps to the fifth floor to take up another set of rounds.

The pile of unmarked essays sitting on his desk were forgotten the moment he realized that Hermione Granger reeked of sex.