I'm SO SORRY you guys! I really have been trying to update this fic for forever, but I've just had so much going on. I guess everyone's been a bit stressed out the last couple of years (at least us Americans haha) and life has been depressing and bleak lately. But I think I'm starting to remember that writing revitalizes me. Sometimes, it's hard to remember that when it feels like focusing on being creative can only possibly be an added drain. ANYWAY, on that depressing note… haha… I want to THANK YOU SO MUCH for your continued support. You guys really do keep me motivated to write my stories and I can't tell you how much it lights up my day every time I get a Review. So a very special Thank You to TriumviraVolturi, otteranddoe, Sspulse, MissusGages, saralinn, StarryPeaches, Goldenbassets, Dance1989, WARPED KAWAII, Mel, Missy Megs, Bridget98, Whack-the-beetle, Elliania, Lucyole, Fantomette, Grantspride, DarkenCoul, Haveyouseenmyprefectbadge, RhodaBush, hexphoenix, marzipan4, Onyx Obsidian, seatoncm, Sacredtome, Kyprioth, cloudshape to ennien, BratGirl1983, viola1701e, Amarenima Redwood, lornabrownie, doctorhodes, Ciule, roon0, Fragilereality, hendo2207, ZoeyOlivia, and Snowgoose1070. Y'all, I can't express how much your words of support and encouragement mean to me. 3 I hope you enjoy this chapter and if you do, please let me know what you think!

OH BTW this is kinda important… you'll notice in this chapter that some parts of Canon are going to start twining themselves together with my story… but the timing of things is going to be very different than Canon and I want to reiterate that this is their 7th year, after the Christmas hols. Cool. Alright, on with the show!

…*~*J*~*...

It was a sort of sticky heat that drew Hermione from her dreams. The blankets were pulled up over her shoulders, the Warming Charm woven into them quite enough to keep the chill of the dungeons at bay. But another, added heat made her cozy cocoon unbearably hot. Her husband's body had curled around her in the night, pressed against her back. His naked arm was draped across her waist. His hairy legs were pressed against the backs of her own. And pressed between the smooth skin of her naked thighs, his cock was stiff and faintly weeping.

The sudden realization was enough to make her flinch. In response, his body jerked behind her as he woke with a gasp. An instant later, he was ripping away from her and right out of the bed. She turned toward him then quickly glanced away from the sight of him standing there naked, his cock bouncing a little from the sudden retreat, and his eyes wide with horror and humiliation.

"Forgive me," he murmured in a voice rough with sleep.

"N-no," she said, "I mean… not at all."

She kept her eyes averted as he went about snatching items of clothing off the floor and dressing himself in a hasty, self-conscious manner. Somehow, having him dress in front of her seemed even more intimate than waking in his arms. Severus Snape had never dressed in front of her before. He was such a private man and he usually drew a distinct line between his private self and the austere facade he wanted her to believe.

"I, er… need to speak to the Headmaster," he said, as if to excuse himself. He hesitated awkwardly, then swept from the room.

Hermione collapsed back into the sheets, cringing. Why did he have to go and make everything so awkward? She thought back to the way he'd felt behind her. It wasn't hard to imagine him waking up in a different sort of mood altogether. Maybe kissing her neck or bringing his hand up to cup her breast. Maybe rubbing his cock between her thighs until she opened them for him. Sliding her knickers off and pressing himself inside of her. Rocking against her beneath the blankets as sleep fell away.

Fire burned in Hermione's cheeks and between her legs. She slipped a hand down to rub away some of that tension and found herself rocking against it. Her thighs were satin smooth. They had to have felt divine against him. Would he think about that later, when he was alone? Would he think about her and their encounter last night?

She slipped her hand into her knickers, sliding her fingers between her folds and moaned. She was so wet. It was easy to imagine him rubbing against her there, the way he would moan in pleasure then push himself inside of her. She whimpered at the thought, hesitating only briefly before pushing first one then two fingers inside of herself. She gasped, imagining it was him, imagining him finally giving in to the temptation. Imagining him deciding he was going to have sex with her.

Hermione rolled onto her stomach, withdrawing her fingers to rub circles around that aching nub at the apex of her thighs. She pictured him bursting in on her now and being so aroused by the sight of her touching herself that he climbed onto the bed and covered her body with his own. He wanted her. She knew he did. She had seen the truth of it in his eyes last night. Maybe if he knew how badly she wanted it, he would capitulate. He would cast aside his mask of severity and lose himself in sensation with her. If she closed her eyes she could picture the way his brow furrowed when she took him inside of herself last night. She could hear his groan of pleasure.

A warm ecstasy was churning deep inside of her; a fire fueled by her fantasies. Pleasure mounted ever hotter, ever tighter, as she imagined the way events might play out next week. She was determined. Enough was enough. She was going to find a way to convince her husband to give her a proper shag.

Suddenly, the tempest boiling inside of her broke. Her eyes popped open in surprise and she gasped aloud as waves of ecstasy raced down her limbs and across her skin. Heat pulsed between her legs as she moaned into the dark dungeon bedroom, rocking against her hand as the tremors dwindled down to echoes in her blood.

She was as elated as she was shocked. Of all her attempts to bring herself off, none had been even remotely successful until now. Hermione rolled onto her back, panting and savouring a distinct feeling of triumph.

…*~*J*~*...

Severus glared down at his employer. "Didn't you think I deserved to know…" he began.

But Albus cut him off. "I assure you, Severus, that I remain ignorant of the true purpose of the Monitoring Charm. Our informants within the Ministry have not yet been able to discover it."

Severus sighed, carefully lowering himself into one of the chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk. As much as he wanted to vent his frustration on Albus, he had only half believed the older man could have known this and kept it from him all this time. "Well," he said, in a dry tone, flicking his dark eyes up to meet the Headmaster's patiently waiting blue ones. "I'm delighted to be able to provide that for you."

The old man leaned forward, steepling his fingers on the desk, an excited glint behind those half-moon spectacles. "He told you, did he?"

Severus gave him a wry grin. "He revealed the truth of it. Over the course of his… interrogation."

Albus cast his eyes down at the surface of the desk, the briefest acknowledgement of regret for the situation, before turning his gaze back on Severus expectantly.

The Slytherin sighed. "They've used a Charm rather like the Trace. The one used on children to detect underage magic..."

"As it happens, I am familiar with the Trace, Severus."

The Slytherin sneered at his employer, then continued as if the old man had not said a word. "It works by alerting the Ministry to the subject's location if the rules of the contract are broken. When the switch is flipped, the witch or wizard becomes trackable. Apparently, they had to have the impetus of a broken contract for legal reasons. But, the key point is this: once the switch has been flipped, it cannot be turned off."

"So," began Dumbledore, in a thoughtful voice, "any couples who break their marriage contract can be tracked by the Ministry... indefinitely."

"Yes."

…*~*J*~*...

Hermione had never enjoyed a hot shower quite as much as she had that morning. Her skin was still flushed and pink from the scalding heat of it when she sat down to breakfast in the Great Hall. It was early and the Hall was still mostly empty, as it often was at this hour on Sunday. Hermione had rarely felt so alive. Besides the tingling in her skin from the heat of the shower, her body felt light and rejuvenated, somehow. She felt confident and capable and… womanly. Femininity had never been an aspect with which she had associated particularly strongly in the past. Now, however, she felt the very essence of feminine sensuality. That was silly, of course. She'd had an orgasm. Alright. And she had bared her body to her husband to what she considered satisfactory effect. And she was determined to talk him out of this foolishness about their marital commitments. She was determined they were going to have sex.

Hermione lingered long enough in the Great Hall that she was still sitting there sipping her coffee and skimming through a Transfiguration text for an essay they had due in a couple of days, when Harry and Ron slouched into the Hall. She didn't think twice before slamming her book shut and going to join them.

Harry looked terrible. His hair was unkempt and his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, like he hadn't slept. "Are you alright?" she couldn't help but ask.

Ron shot her a warning glare before glancing around the room. "Not now," he murmured, his tone laden with mystery. He filled his plate with a heap of every different thing on offer then prodded Harry to do the same. His mouth was full of canteloup when he finally frowned at Hermione and said, "you look cheerful."

Hermione pulled away in surprise at the note of accusation in his voice. "I um…" she began, embarrassed by the reason for that and wondering what excuse she could give. "It's just good to be sitting at the Gryffindor table again, I suppose."

Ron's eyebrows lifted and he nodded sagely, chewing on such a big bite of something that his cheeks were puffed out like a hamster.

"Yeah," said Harry, turning away from idly stirring his porridge to really look at her for the first time, "it's good to have you back."

After breakfast, the boys took her back to Gryffindor Tower and shut themselves away behind the curtains of Harry's four poster bed. "It's Dumbledore," Harry told her with a grave expression. "He says he thinks I have the right to know what I'm up against, so he's been filling me in on his theories." He paused for emphasis, looking exhausted. "It doesn't look good," he continued, meeting her eye.

"What doesn't? What does he think?"

Harry chewed his lip. "It has to do with… something called… a Horcrux."

"A… what?"

The whole idea was preposterous. Hermione had never heard anything about it. She'd have to look into it, of course, but for now she simply couldn't believe… And yet, it did make a kind of sense. She just didn't want to admit it. The implications were overwhelming, after all. Surely, that couldn't be what they were really up against.

After Harry had filled her in about the possible Horcruxes, Hermione could only sit back in dull silence, a million possibilities competing for attention in her mind. This changed the whole game. No wonder Harry looked so worn out and worried. She reached for him, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "We'll figure it out," she told him. "Like we always do."

There was absolutely nothing on Horcruxes in the library. Was it possible the subject was too dark to be allowed at Hogwarts, even in the restricted section? Hermione was at a loss. She felt betrayed. The library had never failed her like this before. But surely someone must have written about this dark magic before. If only she had access…

The idea hit her like a punch to the stomach. Her husband had been obsessed with dark magic from an early age. He was a Death Eater, for Merlin's sake. And he happened to have an extensive private collection of books.

Searching Severus Snape's bookshelves proved to be a Herculean task. Not only was she working without the aid of a Dewey Decimal System, but there appeared to be no system at all in the way his books had been organized. In fact, it seemed, (most astonishingly) as if they weren't, in fact, organized. At all.

She started in the bedroom, assuming that he might have been inclined to keep his most dangerous or provocative texts deeper in the privacy of his chambers. There were several bookshelves here and she scanned each in turn, pulling any promising titles from the shelf and scanning their indices.

Nothing.

By the time Hermine moved to his makeshift lab, scanning titles from the immense collection in the semi-darkness, she had begun a pile for "needs further inspection." And by the time her husband re-appeared, she was sitting in the middle of their marriage bed, books piled around her, some open to promising passages, and one open across her lap as she leaned back against the headboard, staring in horror at the ceiling.

He froze when he saw her, his brow furrowing. "What's wrong?"

Hermione flinched, emerging from her reverie with a startled expression, suddenly aware of the magnitude of her transgression.

Her husband's eyes roved over the piles of books, recognizing them. He froze. The lines in his face deepened from concern to angry scowl. "What is all this?" he asked, reaching over and snatching one particularly dark title off the mattress. "Granger," he hissed, "of all the reckless, entitled…"

Hermione shook her head, hoping for some way to derail his anger. "S-sorry, Professor. I just…"

But he cut her off, his voice full of venom. "Did it ever occur to you, Miss Granger, that some of these books could be cursed or dangerous in any way?"

"I…"

"You didn't think to ask permission before helping yourself to my collection!?"

"Well…"

"You are lucky you didn't attempt to remove any from my rooms. What were you thinking!?"

"I'm sorry…"

"No you aren't!" He towered over her and his black eyes seemed filled with fire. "You believed that your need surpassed my desire for privacy. Surpassed any respect for my ownership, let alone the sense to know the risk you might have been taking…"

"No! I didn't think! I was in a panic…"

"No! You didn't think! That much is clear, Miss Granger!"

"You aren't being fair. You don't understand!"

"I think it is you who does not understand. You who are so entitled so sure that whatever you do it is for the best. What concern is it to you if someone's rights are trespassed upon in your quest?"

Hermione was on her knees, now, pleading with her husband to understand. "I wasn't thinking! I checked the whole library and I couldn't find anything. You have to understand, I was in a panic…"

"I don't care if the future of the Wizarding World depends on it! You should have asked…"

"But it does! I was in shock! Harry just told me what Dumbledore…"

He silenced her with one hasty sweep of his arm and a wandless, nonverbal spell. A look of horror had taken the place of anger on his face. "Don't tell me," he hissed. "Have you taken complete leave of your senses?"

Hermione's eyes went wide. She had gotten so comfortable with this man that she had forgotten who he really was, what his position was as a spy. She hadn't even considered the danger of giving him this information. And why did she trust him so complicitly? So easily? How could she be so sure of his loyalty that she would risk everything by telling him something so secret? If Albus Dumbledore wanted his spy to know, he would tell him himself.

Severus Snape sent his books back to their places with another idle wave of his hand, his horrified eyes never leaving her face. She felt his Silencing spell fall away with a mere twitch of his fingers, but she dared not speak.

"Whatever it is," her husband reiterated unnecessarily in a dangerous, velvety voice, "for Merlin's sake don't tell me." He hesitated and his posture told her that he wanted to be anywhere other than here. But he did not move. "I would leave you to ponder your mistakes," he said in an icy voice that made regret twist painfully inside her, "But there's something we need to discuss."

…*~*J*~*...

For the second time that day, Hermione found herself back in Gryffindor tower. She had to wait for a half hour for the boys to show up. Apparently, they had been out on the Quidditch pitch. It was Ginny who first caught sight of the other girl, huddled in one of the chairs by the fire, staring in horror into the abyss.

"'Mione?" The redhead prodded, leaning into Hermione's frame of vision.

The latter snapped out of her daze, shaking her head as she caught her friend's gaze. "Sorry. Yeah. I need to talk to you." She glanced around, seeing the boys standing awkwardly a short distance away before adding "All of you."

"So… what you're saying…" said Ron in consternation once the four of them were safely cramped together behind the curtains of Harry's four-poster bed. "...is that if you don't shag Snape at least once a week… the Ministry will be able to track you for the rest of your life?"

Hermione nodded.

"But that's… mental."

"No," said Harry. "It's brilliant. They knew exactly what they were doing."

"Yeah," said Ginny, frowning at the other girl as if she'd just confessed to some dire medical diagnosis, "I bet they thought they'd be able to track Death Eaters that way. Only… it'll work the other way around, won't it?"

Hermione sighed, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. "Exactly. We already know there are Death Eaters within the Ministry. And the Law disproportionately affects Muggleborns. If Voldemort seizes control…"

Ron gasped, his blue eyes wide with horror. "They'll be able to find them! Round them up!"

Silence fell in the little group as each of them contemplated the potential repercussions.

"Well, 'Mione," Ron said eventually, not quite meeting her eye, "I never thought I'd say this, but… you better keep shagging Snape."

Hermione was letting herself out of Gryffindor Tower when she bumped into Parvati and Lavender. The other girls gasped at the sight of her and Lavender actually grabbed onto the sleeve of her robes. "Hermione," she said, eyes bulging with shock and excitement, "how are you?"

"Oh, er… fine, thanks."

"Oh dear, it must be so horrible!" Lavender hissed, leaning closer. "Sleeping with Snape, I mean."

Heat flooded Hermione's face as she pulled out of the other girl's grasp. "Oh, no… not really… actually." She had said it before she had a chance to think better of it and immediately regretted her words. It would have been better to avoid saying anything to the notorious gossips.

Lavender and Parvati exchanged an excited look and the blonde turned back to her victim, pulling closer yet again, greed glinting in her heavily made-up eyes. "Not really? You're not telling us Professor Snape…"

"Severus," Parvati whispered seductively with a little giggle.

"...is actually… good… in bed!"

Hermione hesitated. What would her husband want her to say? What was the best strategy here? The Death Eaters expected him to be rough and demanding with her, but she didn't want the whole school to think he was raping her every night. A vision of Malfoy's hideous cartoon surfaced in her mind. That was what the students expected. That was what they pictured when they whispered about her in the halls, giggling in excited horror at the misfortune of their classmate.

"He is, actually," Hermione found herself saying before she could calculate the best response.

Lavender and Parvati were thrilled. They met eyes, giggling scandalously behind their hands before turning back to her. Lavender looked positively delighted. "He's good, is he? How so? What's it like, Hermione? Is he… big?"

Hermione made to push past them. "I'm not talking to you about this," she said, already horrified that she had made some mistake.

"Oh noooo," cried Parvati, pushing out her bottom lip. "He's tiny. I knew it!"

Hermione's eyes grew wide. She knew Parvati was playing her, but she didn't want them telling the whole school that their Potions Master was pitifully endowed. "He is not!" she heard herself snapping. Anger and frustration were leaping up inside her.

"Oh?" said Lavender.

"No! He's actually…" Hermione glanced around, embarrassed. "He's actually quite… big."

The girls cackled wickedly at that. "You don't sound so convinced," said Parvati. "It's alright, you know. You can tell us. We won't tell a soul."

"Please don't," said Hermione. She was struck by a sudden inspiration. "He'd be all too pleased for the school to know about all that. It's not like he can boast about it to his students, after all. And he really is insufferable when he's gloating."

Parvati guffawed, her eyes wide. "Oh my gods!" she squealed. "He really is big!"

Lavender pursed her lips, folding her arms across her chest. "Alright, but does he know how to use it?"

Hermione scowled at the other girl, making as if to push past her again. "As if you know anything about that…"

"What do you know!" cried Lavender.

Parvati joined her friend in folding her arms and scowling at Hermione. "There's no need to get snippy," she told Hermione. "Just because your husband is taking his frustration out on you…"

"Oh! Really..." Hermione cried, scowling indignantly at the other girls. "Is that what you think?"

The other girls nodded in unison.

"Well you couldn't be more wrong," she snapped. "True, we might hate each other most of the time, but at the end of the day… Severus," (She used his first name intentionally, emphasizing it in a proud tone of voice, lifting her chin in the air.), "is very skilled in bed."

…*~*J*~*...

I'm sorry again for taking so long. I hope you've enjoyed this update and I promise to try to post again soon. Please let me know what you think!

:}

llorolalluvia