He'd become comfortable with her relative safety in the library, though he still opted to stay with her more often than not. Whenever Snape sent for Antonin he would include a guard to watch her and ensure no one did whatever the Death Eaters feared. The boy from the last time had not returned, but it was mostly lower order individuals over all. She had little opportunity for divisive action, especially when Death Eaters she knew would occasionally peek in to watch the tamed lioness organize books.

That was, until the evening Dolohov hissed and grasped at his forearm. "Shit." The dark man rose like a shadow and stormed to the door. "You! Fetch Severus. Tell him my pet requires a guard." After a pregnant pause he demanded, "Well?"

It was much too soon when Snape entered the stacks, obsidian eyes cutting through her. "I take it you received the Dark Lord's summons? I had hoped he'd give me a moment to warn you."

"Yes, I-"

"I'll stay with Miss Granger, go on then."

Tension strummed between them before Dolohov nodded and disapparated to wherever his master was. She loathed that, the new permission for Death Eaters to apparate in Hogwarts. It was tied to the Dark Mark, surely, as those without it came via other means (usually the front gate).

Hermione was too aware under her former professor's eyes, each movement of her muscles a conscious choice as she wiped away dust and inspected tomes. He was lasered on her and she knew something was finally going to happen.

"Miss Granger." Her skeleton attempted to flee her flesh at the nearness of his low voice. How she had not noticed the long shade of his body fall over her she did not know. One black brow rose inquiringly as he stared down his long nose at her.

"You startled me. Sorry."

The brow lowered, corner of his lip twitching. "You recall our former conversation?"

His tone conveyed the truth of his meaning and she nodded slowly, the memory of her one night of freedom rising through the tide of her thoughts.

"I have a task for you." His coal black eyes burned into her. "It is distasteful, but critical."

Her throat was tight with unspoken hope. "I understand."

"You must not allow any suspicion to be cast upon your actions, do you understand? No one can think you were complicit, or you may endanger your position." She nodded again. "You will distract Dolohov tomorrow night. You will delay his sleep, weather him down, ensure he does not want to leave you for anything short of a summons from the Dark Lord himself."

"Why?" was out before she could help herself, ever the curious Gryffindor even in Hell.

His lips pursed as he rolled his jaw in irritation. "The less you know, the better. As it is, your rudimentary Occlumency is enough of a risk. You will practice further compartmentalizing these thoughts and placing those related to our discussions in memories you do not wish others to share. By doing so, you may fool those who delve into your mind that those are the memories you are protecting and nothing more. The deeper you hide these moments, the better. Understood?"

She stared up at him with umber eyes flickering in the candlelight. "But how am I supposed to distract him like that? That's… that's impossible."

A long-suffering sigh stirred around the man and he rubbed at his temples. "You are the only one capable of such a feat." Snape's hand lowered and his gaze whipped down her form before meeting her eyes again. "You have everything you need at your disposal. Use it. "

"You want me to-" Disgust rose through her throat and leeched into her voice. "That's- that is-"

He silenced her with cold, cutting eyes. "We do what we must, Miss Granger. If we wish to see a new day, sacrifices must be made." He turned in a flourish of black robes, long strides taking him to the doors before she could manifest a response. A young Death Eater popped in at his behest and took up her guardianship.

Hermione stared back at the doors through which the headmaster had disappeared, tears overwhelming her in a tangle of hot knots leading down her throat. Snape was asking her to whore herself out for their cause. There was no doubt that was his intention. He wanted her to distract Dolohov and keep him up and focused on her, and how else could she do that but with her body? With his obsession . And she had to do it without arousing suspicion.

What the fuck , she screamed through her echoing mind. What in Merlin's name is happening? I'm eighteen years old; what the bloody Hell does Severus Snape expect me to do? Climb onto Dolohov's lap and-?

Even if I somehow made myself do that, how would it not seem suspicious? I have never… instigated before; he must know I don't want him. So how?

It was all too much, seeping through her skin and surrounding her until she was nearly smothered. Hermione fell into the chair nearest and buried her face in her hands as her mind whirlpooled,

"Alright there, Granger?" Her head snapped up and she blinked until the figure nearing her came into focus.

Marcus Flint, every bit as immense as she remembered, stopped a few paces from her, his heavy brows furrowed. In her distress, she hadn't noticed Snape had set him over her.

"Er, yes. Just a bit tired."

He studied her with eyes keen from often overseeing others; he was captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team when Harry first started, if she recalled correctly (and she usually did). "Then get the fuck back to work."

Her eyes widened at his crass words, but Hermione nodded and turned her back to him. Time to start formulating plans.

By dinner that evening Hermione had decided she would test the waters with Antonin. If he responded without suspicion to a slight initiation of affection, tomorrow she would attempt to see how far she could take it. And if not… well, she had an unfortunate plan for that as well.

"Will you join me for a nightcap?" Hermione had learned to discern when Dolohov was truly asking versus when he was making a show of it. This was the former; while she usually declined given the opportunity, she stole herself with a breath and smiled.

"Sure." His silver eyes shone as he stood and proffered a hand to her, leading the way to the sitting room. Antonin let loose her hand and eased into his high backed chair, but she trailed behind and stood fidgeting before him.

His head tilted, tame curls slipping across his cheek as he studied her. "Is there something you need, kitten?" Antonin cupped her face, thumb lovingly running the length of her cheekbone.

She swallowed past her pounding pulse. "I thought…" Hermione laid a trembling hand over his knee and bit her lip, hoping he would take the initiative.

His eyes were narrowed at her, falling from her own to her lips to her hand on him. Her heart was stuttering in fear until he grasped her forearm and tugged her into his lap, lips moving against her curls. "Is this what you wanted?"

In through her nose and out through tense lips. She bobbed her head and tried to settle against him.

"You know I would not deny you affection, kitten, but I am surprised that you sought it out." Bristling scruff brushed at her hair. He tipped her chin toward him with one gentle finger. "Are you beginning to warm toward me?" Fearful black swallowed her irises. "Perhaps not yet. But you're trying perhaps? Seeing if this might sweeten my disposition toward you?"

Hermione shrugged uncomfortably, her cheeks heating under the scrutiny.

"Do you want something, sweet girl?" Antonin nosed down to her ear, breath hotly tingling across her skin. "Is that why you have climbed into my lap?"

"No," she whispered. "I just… I wanted…"

He stroked her side, holding her firmly against him. "You just wanted what, kitten? To stay in my good graces? To encourage my kindness?"

That was a far better conclusion than the truth, so she nodded and her eyes shifted toward the fireplace as though guilt stirred.

Antonin chuckled warmly. "Well, that is a manipulation I can accept." A few deft flicks of his wand and liquor poured into a crystal tumbler, which he plucked from the air to sip. "Of course, there are many ways to- what is the phrase? Butter me up?" Amusement tinged his voice and he held the glass to her lips for her to drink. "I would so enjoy you begging for my cock, sweet girl. Waking me with that pretty little mouth. Sneaking into my bed or my shower. So many options for you." He kissed the corner of her mouth, feeling the tremble of her lower lip at the ideas swirling around them. "My scared little kitten. I wonder if you will ever enjoy the extent of my own pleasures. Though your fear, your resistance, will always be beautiful."

"I'm trying," she reiterated with a voice as small as she felt.

Antonin held her jaw between steel fingers and plunged his tongue into her mouth, roaming possessively over her own. His fingers were bruisingly tight, his grip around her waist following suit, and she could feel the hardness forming underneath her. When he pulled back ropes of spit broke between their lips. "I was going to give you a reprieve tonight. But you are so tempting, I want to devour you completely. Can I do that, Hermione? Can I take you below and carve into your pretty skin with knives and wipes and canes? Can I fuck you while dragging a blade across your flesh?"

She was shaking and realized her mistake in dizzying, nauseating waves. Dolohov so craved her compliance that the barest shred of it was as tantalizing as the fruit on a tree just out of reach. If he took her violently tonight she would be unable to bring herself to endure the same tomorrow. "Please, no."

He chuckled, combing a hand through her curls. "Then I will take you with only my body tonight?" Antonin had her drink more before polishing off the rest of alcohol. He stood with her in his arms. "You will hurt, but you will not bleed, my delicious little one."

Hermione's mind churned and spluttered, failing to find a way out that would not give her away. She would have to submit this night, and face tomorrow anew.