The Daily Prophet 2 March 2000
Spotted: Severus Snape certainly works fast! Yes, it's official: He and Hermione Granger are expecting a baby! The two war heroes have finally found love in each other's arms, and now they're even shopping for baby things. Together, they've overcome so many obstacles to be together: Their great age difference, their past relation as Professor and student, his past as a Death Eater and spy, and her infamous relationship with war hero Weasley. Not to mention the question we're all wondering about: Does he love her more than Lily Potter?
It seems so, unless the devious Hermione Granger has tricked our beloved hero into an unwanted fatherhood. She's known for taking famous wizards to her bed, having past relationships with none other than her friends Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, plus Quidditch star Victor Krum and now, it's Severus Snape himself. We can't help wondering: Will the wedding bells ring this time?
The next evening, she had waited up for Severus, as he had taken a trip back to Harborne to set up the mummy-delivery to Skeeter by another Un-authorized Portkey.
Now he was back, and she settled into the crook of his arms in front of the fire, relaxing for a moment before bedtime. Drowsily, she wondered about Severus' actions. Taking it upon himself to be a vigilante, destroying the Death Eaters one by one. Taking care of Voldemort's daughter, even adopting her. And yet, she felt like there was a piece of the puzzle missing. How did he know so much about the hideouts and the movements of the Death Eaters? Surely the Death Eaters were fairly adept at hiding, and obviously, they were moving around. How did he find them so easily?
It felt like a lightning strike in her brain, and the pieces finally clicked. Turning in his arms, she stared open-mouthed up at him.
"Now what?" he asked, that damnable eyebrow lifting.
"You're doing it again," she whispered. "You're … spying."
For a moment, surprise flitted over his face, before he was back in his careful blank mask. "Curious. Why do you think so?" he drawled.
"Yes, it has to be so. Or else, you'd need your own intelligence system to find them this easily," she muttered."I'm presuming it isn't widely known, based on the reactions of Rowle and Macnair, so… you keep mostly in touch with the leader, right?"
"Very good, Miss Granger." His deep rumble made something pleasurable slither down her spine, like a slow trickle of water, tickling her sensitive skin.
"Who is it?" she demanded insistently.
Carefully, he put his tumbler down, not taking his eyes off her face.
"I was approached during the autumn," he said quietly. "After Dolohov. The new leader sent me a letter, suggesting that we might have mutual interests in removing a few of the more experienced Death Eaters, threatening his position. I agreed, hoping to find out more."
"And…?" she asked breathlessly.
He shrugged. "I did. We didn't actually meet until well after Christmas, and by that time, I was fairly sure he was inexperienced - as a Death Eater, that is. During autumn, it was clear that he desperately needed help and support by someone who knew more about the organization to stop them milling about. I gave him a few pointers, and in return, he gave me intel on the whereabouts of the old Inner Circle. Now, however, he's worried about me supplanting him, because I've killed off more people than he intended, thus undermining his authority."
"Who is it - and what are you going to do?"
Severus gave her a small smirk. "Actually, the best course of action is to supplant him. Then I can hand the entire crowd on a plate to the Aurors."
"What if the Aurors are compromised?"
"Oh, trust me, in a way, they are. Not all the Aurors, but a few of them."
Cocking his head, he leaned in, whispering the name in her ear.
"It … can't be true - gods, oh no, I never thought he'd be..." she breathed, shock coursing through her like a crashing wave, quickly being supplanted by rage at such a momentous betrayal, and grief. Grief for her broken trust, sorrow for having lost someone she considered a good person, a true supporter of Dumbledore - and Harry! - and a sense of mourning for losing a friend. "That's why the Death Eaters never were apprehended at Christmas. Good grief, we need to warn Harry!"
"That would be a good idea," he said thoughtfully. "I've been thinking, if Potter could watch the entire thing with that Invisibility Cloak of his as I take him down, it would be a help in the trial. I don't fancy another visit to Azkaban."
"Of course not," she scoffed. Then her eyes narrowed. "What about the person inside Hogwarts?"
"That could be me, of course," he said, grinning wickedly at her. "He must have told them he had someone at Hogwarts, but not who it is."
"Why did you pretend I was in danger?!" she almost shrieked, grabbing his shoulders, almost shaking him, feeling as she had been … pranked, or tricked … only, this was serious. Life-threatening, even.
"I wanted you safe, with me, besides I like having you in my quarters, I like having you close at hand," he said, ruffling her hair with that infuriating calm. Then his face grew serious. "Besides, even I cannot rule out the possibility of him recruiting someone else. Students, or even those idiots that used to follow you around, Byror and Heron. After all, it certainly wasn't me that alerted the Death Eaters to our little trip to Hogsmeade on Boxing day."
Xxxx
"I can't believe you actually live with him. He's still so very …. Snape," Harry said quietly at her, watching Severus ordering pints at the bar, squinting at her lover's broad back from their corner table.
It had been a stretch, getting Harry to agree meeting her and Severus at the Three Broomsticks. At first, he had been very reluctant, but finally, he agreed.
"It's good," she said, grinning at Harry's uneasy face. "We have something to tell you, though."
Harry's face fell. "Bloody hell, you aren't pregnant, are you?"
Hermione barked a laugh. "Heavens, no! Nothing like that. Not at all." Sobering quickly, she whispered to Harry: "It's about the war."
"Oh." Harry still peered at her, like he didn't quite believe her, but when Severus returned with the pints, the fixed, polite smile on Harry's face returned too.
"How are you, Professor?" he said much too brightly, as Severus sat down at the table.
Arching an eyebrow, Severus pulled Hermione into the crook of his arm, drawling: "Good, Potter, so very good."
Harry looked faintly sick, but nodded, still keeping up that awful, fake smile.
"So," Severus rumbled, setting a Silencing spell around them. "I'm going to tell you something you may not like, Potter, about the Death Eaters. Will you give me a Vow of Silence? I promise, I won't hold you to it for long."
"How long?" Harry said, suddenly looking every inch the professional Auror.
"A week or two, at the most," Severus said calmly, his arm warm against her back, his hand slowly stroking Hermione's upper arm.
"Ok," Harry said carefully, putting his wand on the table, touching it surreptitiously. "I solemnly swear, I will not divulge the secret Severus Snape tells me, until he allows it."
"Kingsley Shacklebolt is the new leader of the dark."
Harry looked at him, blinking once, before he nodded. "I've been suspecting him…," he muttered. "Something changed after he lost the election. As if he … didn't accept the result."
"I've been in touch with him. He believes I'm on the Death Eaters' side," Snape said curtly, watching Harry like a hawk.
To his credit, Harry didn't even blink. "Ok."
"Next Friday, he's having a gathering - a revel, as we used to call it. I'm planning to appear, and I'm going to challenge Kingsley for the position."
Now, Harry couldn't hide his astonishment. "What?" he sputtered. "Are you going to take over the leadership…?"
"And hand the entire body of Death Eaters to you on a plate," Severus continued grimly. "I need you to witness me taking him down, and I need you to know my plan beforehand. You could use your Invisibility Cloak, or I could supply you with Polyjuice if you'd prefer that."
"Witnessing this would be very useful, but I do prefer my Cloak," Harry said, a grudging respect coming to light in his eyes. "What about you, Hermione?"
"I'm going, of course," she began, but Severus snarled: "You're not!"
Harry stared at them, openmouthed.
Severus sighed: "Hermione, you'll be in so much danger. You know what they'll do to you…"
She snorted. "What about Harry? He's going to be in just as much danger!"
Severus rolled his eyes. "Potter is a professional Auror by now, and he'll be invisible. You, on the other hand, can't fit underneath that Cloak with him."
"I could be Polyjuiced," she said stubbornly, but Severus shook his head, looking uncomfortable.
"There'll be blood detectors on the premises," he said, "no one that isn't at least a Half-Blood will get through the wards, unless as a prisoner."
Harry chimed in: "It's true, Hermione, such wards exist. I've seen them. If anyone were to use them, it would be the Death Eaters, right?"
"I could be your prisoner, then?" she said to Severus.
His grimace looked pained. " No, Hermione," he replied empathetically. "Don't you remember? They'd expect me to…"
"You wouldn't do it," she said confidently, and he scowled.
"You're right. I'd never do it, not in a million years, and my cover would be blown. Then we'd have to fight our way out from hundreds of Death Eaters. That might not work. I'm not risking your life and sanity ," he hissed, dark eyes burning like coals.
Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione," he said gently, "I understand why you'd want to go. But… listen to the Professor, will you? This would be very dangerous for you. He's right. It's more dangerous for you than for the Professor and me."
Xxxx
Back in their quarters, she was still more than a little angry with him and Harry. Like she was a weak damsel in distress, a delicate, fluttering flower to be cosseted and protected.
"You're angry," he remarked, one elbow resting on his knee, his hand idly stroking his chin.
"That's right," she said curtly, settling on the sofa with a book, determined to ignore him for the rest of the evening.
"You're not going to talk to me?"
Hermione left the question hanging in the air, not deigning him with an answer.
"Don't be childish."
His tone made her look up, it was low, something dangerous lurking on the edges.
Glaring at him, feeling as if a pout formed on her lips, she looked down at her book again. And suddenly, he was there, looming over her, grabbing her book.
"Hey, I was reading that!" she snarled angrily, trying futilely to wrestle the book back.
"Hermione. You can't ignore me when you're angry." For all the world, his voice sounded like patience itself, but the fire burning in his eyes told her he was angry too.
Sighing in frustration, she folded her arms underneath her breasts, staring up at him. " have my attention, now talk."
"Behave like an adult, not like a sulking child!" he snapped, one hand shooting out to grip her chin.
"Don't touch me!" she growled, feeling rage rising. As usual, her anger caused her hair to act up, bristling with static electricity, sending small jolts through her, like weak electrical shocks.
"I'm … sorry," he said with gritted teeth. "I expect you, however, to talk to me, to try to work these things out. Not … silencing me."
"You think I can't handle myself in a fight. You think I'm too weak," she said, eyes slitted.
"I know you can handle yourself, but in this case, the odds are stacked against you. When I calculate the risk, as one must, bringing you along will heighten our risk, endangering our mission. Even Potter said so. You can do the calculations yourself. You're much better than me at Arithmancy."
With a sigh, she muttered: "Allow me to be angry, allow me to calm down by myself. Forcing me to discuss this will lead to yelling. I think that's more childish. Leave me alone, will you?"
"No." Now he was grinning crookedly, the foolish man. "I'm going to fuck that rage out of you. Make you satisfied and pliant, forcing you to see that I only want to protect you to the best of my ability."
Shocked, she stared at him, and though it was so wrong, something warm shot through her, warming her belly, leaving a tingling feeling in her sex.
"No, I mean…" she whispered, but he put one large finger to her lips, muttering: "Sssh."
The tip of his finger prodded gently at her bottom lip, and despite herself, she opened up, sucking lightly on his finger.
"Good girl." The praise made her strangely warm, strengthening the tingling feeling between her thighs. "You know," he said conversationally, one finger still in her mouth, the other cupping her chin before sliding over her jawbone, underneath her ear to the back of her neck, tilting her head forward, his finger sliding deeper into her mouth, "you want me to care. You want me to protect you, to ensure your safety. You like it. That doesn't make you any less strong and powerful. Instead, it makes you human. In this case, you know I'm right, but you don't have to like it. However, I expect you to act like a grown witch. If not, I'll treat you like …" his voice fell to a growl: "... the naughty little girl you are."
With a small shriek, she was Levitated, turned upside down and draped across his lap, all in a matter of seconds, her jeans dragged over her hips, baring her arse.
Smack! The crack of his hand across her buttocks made her jolt forward, an indignant squeak leaving her, but she fell quiet as his large, warm palm soothed the bruised cheek. It was humiliating, but still, it was like a furnace had opened in her belly, making her insides much too hot, burning for more.
"This is what I do to my naughty little witch," he said, voice silky, "You get the spanking you deserve for being so sullen."
Smack! The second slap made her groan, but there was also a rush of wetness between her legs. Squirming, she tried to wriggle away, but he gripped her thigh, holding her in place as his hand rose for the third slap.
Smack! Her clit started throbbing, and … she wasn't exactly surprised by her own arousal, knowing that she enjoyed his dominance, but she felt slightly overwhelmed by the fierce reaction. She had dreamt about this, him punishing her. This - this - was the delicious edge between reality and play, blending their real anger with pleasure, but still, she knew he'd never hurt her. He'd stop, if it became too much. She trusted him, loved him even, knowing that he felt the same about her. And somewhere in the back of her mind, there was a small bundle that was all him, after the bonding, after those rituals to ensure her - his - safety. A warm spot, like sunlight in a clearing, making her feel as if all the light and all the love in the world was gathered therein. Tears rose in her eyes, unbidden, by the sudden emotions, as his hand came down on her arse again and again.
After what seemed like a long time, he stopped, rubbing her sore cheeks. "You look so good like this," he muttered, "your tight little arse so red and warm, splayed out on my lap."
His hand slid in between her cheeks, feeling the wetness there, and he tsked. "Witchling, are you enjoying your punishment? What a depraved little thing you are, finding your pleasure in being spanked."
"Please," she gasped, as his finger slowly circled her opening, "please!"
"Please what, witch?" His voice was rough around the edges, like he was about to lose control, and she almost sobbed by the thought.
"Please touch me, I want to come!"
The slow chuckle was sinful at the best, making her stomach curl and clench. "Oh, darling, when you beg so prettily…"
The flat of his hand stroked her slit, one finger tickling her nub, and she almost convulsed in his lap, back arching up.
"You're so ready, aren't you?" he muttered. "So worked up, so soaked, I can feel you've wet my trousers, making a mess with your dripping pussy."
"Yes," she gasped, writing into his hand, begging: "Faster, please, rub me harder!"
"You're such a dirty girl, aren't you," he rumbled, "wanting your old Professor to spank you, punish you and fuck you."
But he did rub faster, and she almost couldn't breathe, her breath coming in heaving gasps. "Please," she croaked, "please take me!"
"No," he said, infuriatingly calm, "naughty girls don't get their Professor's cock in their pussy. You can either get me in your mouth, or … here."
His thumb slid back, circling the other hole, and she almost whined: "Severus!"
Oh Merlin, this was so scandalous, even thinking about taking him back there, him using her body like that, and… Her belly clenched, hard, as his thumb pressed against her hole, and there was a blinding light rising behind her eyes, the world was collapsing, coalescing into white fire burning through her, making her shout, arching her back, pressing against his hand, almost screaming as his thumb momentarily breached her, and she was flying - flying - falling off the edge, becoming weightless, convulsing with deep tremors as ecstasy tore its way through her body, ripping her apart with pleasure.
Panting, she came down, feeling as if she was oddly cleansed, laying limp across his lap, not being able to do anything but breathe through the slow ripples still coursing through her belly.
"I think we can safely say you enjoyed this," he said, voice oddly rusty, his hand now petting her backside. "Such a good girl." He took a deep breath, before saying, his voice stern: "And now you'll suck my cock. You need to work up to taking my cock back there … but I must say, I'm looking forward to it. A lot."
Pushing her down to the floor, he said, not unkindly: "On your knees, love. Open up. I promise this will be quick."
Kneeling, needing to steady herself on his legs to not topple over, she nodded, waiting expectantly as he unbuttoned his trousers, letting his cock slip free.
One large, warm hand cupped her chin, and she opened her mouth, obediently, receiving his cock, wrapping her lips around him. He was much too big for her to take it all, and her mouth was stretched wide open by the impressive girth. Still, she did her best, suckling on the tip, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head, collecting the drops beading at the slit.
With a groan, he stroked her jaw, before grabbing her head with both of his hands, and he inched farther in, making her gag slightly, before she remembered to breathe through her nose.
"Gods, Hermione, you are so good, so lovely, and …" - she could feel him swell - "you're …" he thrust a little harder, "...all…" before his cock jerked in her mouth, "mine!"
With a growl, he came, hot seed spurting into her throat, and she swallowed, drinking him up, taking the salty, bitter taste in her stride, her tongue coaxing him through his orgasm, suckling the last drops from his still twitching member.
Finishing with a kiss to the tip, she smiled up at him.
Dark eyes stared down at her, and he muttered hoarsely: "You look absolutely debauched down there. And by Merlin, Hermione… I love you. Thank you."
Xxxx
The little girl squealed with happiness, her feet almost flying as she ran into her new room, dancing around as she touched everything, a joyous expression on her pretty little face.
Severus had to admit, the castle might have outdone itself, and suddenly, he wondered if Hogwarts actually cared for children. He supposed it might, at that. Standing in the doorway, his arm around Hermione's shoulder as she rested her head on him, they watched Morgana - their daughter now - explore the room.
Or rather, 'room' didn't even begin to cover it. The castle had built a castle inside itself. There were small stairs leading up to platforms holding real chairs, tables and shelves ready to be filled with books and toys, the posters at the corners of the bed was actually turrets where Morgana would be able to climb up to the roof, there were small, enclosed spaces with arched windows and a trapdoor in the floor that he surmised would lead to an actual dungeon.
"It's amazing," Hermione whispered. "The castle did all this - for her? Because you asked for it?"
"It did," he said, and suddenly, he wondered if the castle cared for him too. He had never seen it go to such lengths before, and … he had asked it playfully for a room fit for a princess. His little princess, now, not the Dark Lord's daughter. Come to think of it, she was Slytherin's only surviving heir. He supposed that might have played a part too, when the castle had decided to work fundamental magic on itself to such a degree.
Slowly petting Hermione's arm, squeezing his witch closer, he felt a deep contentment. His family, His witch, his child. Who would have thought he'd end up like this? Soon to be Headmaster, soon to rule the true Inner Circle of his friends, soon to execute those plans that they had dreamt of, so long ago, before it all turned to madness, cruelty and paranoia.
Xxxx
Saying goodbye to the class on Friday afternoon, she felt oddly thankful for finally teaching a class that wanted to learn. Currently, she was being mentored by Batsheda, and the NEWT Ancient Runes class consisted of fourteen bright pupils that had been a delight for her to teach. Batsheda had proved to be very laid back, having introduced Hermione to her class with a fond smile: "You all know Hermione Granger, but I can also tell you this: She was my star student. You'll do well to listen to her. If she weren't set on being an Arithmancer, I'd try to lure her to study Runes instead."
Admittedly, the introduction had stroked her ego, satisfying her need for praise, and she had been a little more relaxed as she talked to the students, helping them with their translations.
But now, butterflies were back in her stomach, because tonight, Severus would fight Kingsley, and .. she had a bad, bad feeling about this. Hurrying along the corridor, anxious to get back to Severus, everything suddenly went black.
Xxxx
Something nagged at the back of his mind: Hermione wasn't back yet, though her class was over forty-five minutes ago. He was sure she'd make time for seeing him before he left for the revel. Making time to beg him to come along. So where was she?
Severus took a deep breath, stopping his pacing around, and pulled at the spells he had attached to her, like strings keeping them connected through time and space.
Nothing. She was not at Hogwarts anymore, she was far away…
Heart starting to hammer, he spun, throwing Floo powder into the fireplace, shouting: "12 Grimmauld Place!"
Spinning through the red flares of fires, he emerged into the Grimmauld kitchen, just as Potter ladled pasta on his plate. The young man shrieked, ladle clattering to the floor, before saying weakly: "Professor… What's the matter? I didn't think you'd be here yet, I thought you'd be here in one hour!"
Ron Weasley stared at him too, blue eyes round with surprise, his spoon halfway to his mouth.
Glaring at the redhead, knowing that he had hurt Hermione, he snapped: "She's gone. Taken, I believe. You must come, NOW! We can't waste time. It has to be now!"
The two young men rose, and he snapped at Weasley:"Not you, you're useless."
"I'm not," the young man said, drawing himself indignantly up. "I'll have you know, Professor, I'm doing very well in Auror training."
"That's a first," he groused, but Potter was already Summoning his Cloak.
Weasley muttered: "I can still fit under the Cloak, can't I, Harry? I mean, if Hermione is in danger…"
"Polyjuice," Potter murmured, indicating Weasley.
Severus scowled, but nodded impatiently. More firepower was always good, and the boy had been decent enough in a fight. "You keep your cover, boy, or the first thing I do is to kill you. Hear me?" he said threateningly.
The boy swallowed. "I see. I'll shut up, agree to anything I see. I won't move until Harry says so. I'll be over here, just drinking my Polyjuice, quietly."
"Good," he grated, throwing a phial with a murky green content at Weasley. "You'll be Parkinsons' younger brother. He used to be an initiate. Now, he's sleeping in his bed at Hogwarts, and he's not going to wake up anytime soon. Both of you: Keep quiet, free Hermione and GET HER OUT OF THERE!"
Xxxx
Waking up, she groaned, her whole body feeling like she had been contorted into strange shapes, twisted until her muscles almost snapped. But now, she was lying in a dark room, hands bound between her legs, trussed up like a pig for slaughter.
Underneath her cheek, there was a cold, slightly damp stone floor, and her face throbbed, feeling as if the surface of her skin had been scraped along something rough.
Merlin, what had happened? Where was she? With a sinking feeling, she realized, someone had kidnapped her, and that someone was almost certainly a Death Eater.
Flexing her magic, a small ounce of relief coursed through her. Whoever took her, wasn't aware that she had a very good grasp on wandless magic.
"Diffindo!" she whispered, cutting easily through the Conjured ropes holding her. Stretching slowly, she winced, feeling as if her whole body ached, screamed even, as she tried to straighten her limbs properly, as if she had been a giant's punching ball.
What had they done to her while she was blacked out? With a sudden worry, she tried to feel if she was hurt down there too, but apparently, she wasn't. At least, she couldn't feel it. Maybe they had just thrown her around, Crucio'ing her or beat her up. Probably, she should be glad that she couldn't remember, but then again… Not knowing was worse.
Scrambling up on her knees, she Conjured a small, bobbing light, looking around. She was in a small room, obviously in a cellar, with a heavy wooden door barring the single entrance. Prodding at it, she felt a small resistance, telling her that it was warded, set to signal if anyone opened the door. In all likelihood, she'd be attacked soon after leaving the room. She wasn't surprised when she also felt the heavy weight of Apparition wards, stretching far beyond the room, probably covering the entire building.
Cold sweat pooled in her armpits, heart hammering, and her head felt woozy after just sitting up. She took a moment, before she staggered to her feet, chest heaving, like she had exerted herself, and her back hurt. Badly.
Wincing, she set her hands on her hips, trying to support her body as she righted her back.
Would she manage a fight, being hurt, her body aching, a wandless fight to boot? Wandless magic was far more taxing, and she was already feeling so very weak.
Dismantling a ward was tedious, but in her condition, it would be a far better idea to sneak away rather than fighting her way out.
Stretching her body, joints cracking, she set about Dismantling the ward, picking apart the spell slowly and surely. It took a long time, and she was careful - so very careful to avoid triggering the ward - but at last, it Dissipated, leaving the door free to open.
Taking a deep breath, mustering her courage - who knew what or who was on the other side? - and she pushed the door open. It creaked, moving slowly, and she stepped out into the darkness beyond.
Xxxx
Young Weasley looked odd, standing in the Grimmauld kitchen with clothes much too big for his new frame as young Petyr Parkinson, and Severus couldn't help snapping: "For Merlin's sake, Transfigure your clothes! Everyone will stare if you arrive looking like that."
Grumbling, the young man did a half-assed job of Transfiguring his clothing, and Severus rolled his eyes. "How do the Aurors really train you? You are expected to go on surveillance missions, aren't you? You must be able to Transfigure better than that. Minerva would be ashamed to see this," he muttered, producing his wand and Transfiguring the man's robes into a smart robe, fit for a Pure-blood Slytherin.
Weasley flushed, but gritted out :"Thank you, Professor. Transfiguration was never my best skill."
"Anyone could see that," he retorted, and Potter groaned.
"Can we just go?" he said plaintively. "Hermione is … The gods know what happens to her as we speak."
Severus felt his face darken. "They wouldn't dare…" he muttered. "If they do, I'll personally have their hides. Quite literally."
Breathing heavily, panic and anger again rushing in his veins - they wouldn't, would they? Kingsley wouldn't start before he arrived? - he growled: "Come here, I'll Side-Along you both. Tonight, they are at the ruins of Prince Manor. I can Apparate you inside the wards. Potter, stay invisible at all times, and you, Weasley, act like you're an old-fashioned Pure-blood. Even you should know how, just sneer at anything you see."
With a crack, they were off.