Trigger warning: Please keep in mind that there are mentions of rape in this fic but no sexual violence actually takes place.

touch me.

it's been a long day

and tonight

I'd like to feel nothing

but your fingertips

on my soul

(Instagram: poetsxo)

Malfoy Manor

'I see you've had your fun with Granger. I'll take it from here,' a deep familiar voice said from the doorway.

Bellatrix Lestrange was still hovering over her trembling body. 'Severus. Are you here to spoil my fun?'

Hermione's head turned slowly to the door. Her collarbone was still excruciatingly painful where Bellatrix had cut into it, and it was hard to focus, but she would have recognised that voice anywhere. It was her former potions professor, and she wasn't sure which one of the two death eaters was the lesser of two evils. If such thing even existed. Severus Snape had murdered Dumbledore after all. And to think she had believed Snape was loyal to Dumbledore. She had been so sure. A part of her still wished she hadn't been wrong.

Professor Snape stepped closer and stood next to her face. Hermione caught his eyes, quietly begging him to do something, to help her, but his expression remained as dark and unreadable as ever. His gaze moved to her bleeding scar, and Hermione's eyes filled with tears, until she couldn't see anymore.

'Ah, what is this then? "Mudblood"? Was carving that into her flesh not fun enough for you?' he said.

'I was just getting started.'

'That's enough, Bella,' Snape snapped. 'My turn.'

Bellatrix stood up and started to laugh. 'Finally coming to play with us I see.' Nothing had ever made Hermione's blood run cold as much as Bellatrix Lestrange's laughter. And what did he mean by "my turn"?

'Go on then. I'll watch.'

Snape kneeled next to her and forced her jaw upwards with his wand. 'I don't think so. I will be taking this one upstairs,' he answered.

'No, sir, you don't have to do this …'

'You've always had a taste for mudbloods, haven't you Severus?' sneered Bellatrix. 'Do wait a moment, I'm sure Lucius will want to see this.'

Snape turned to Bellatrix. 'No one is going to watch. Granger has made my life a living hell at Hogwarts, it's time she paid for it. This one is mine. And I don't share.'

'Professor, please don't …' Hermione pleaded.

'Quiet!' Snape grabbed Hermione by the hair and shoulder, forcing her to stand with him. 'Start walking. If you try anything, I will let her kill you.'

Snape steered her towards the staircase when Bellatrix ran off, calling for Malfoy.

'Upstairs, quickly.'

'No, what are you …' Her legs felt like jelly.

'Will you shut your mouth already, miss Granger,' he hissed. 'Let me think.'

Think? What was there to think about? And had he just called her miss Granger? Hermione was quite sure Snape was not one to carve insults in her flesh, that was more Bellatrix Lestrange's style. But he wanted her alone. Without public. Surely that could mean only one thing. It was war after all.

Hermione whimpered when Snape pushed her into a dimly lit bedroom and locked the door behind them. The only light came from what seemed to be two enchanted candelabras floating in the air.

'Wh- what are you going to do to me?' she asked.

'I need you to do exactly as I say, do you understand? You have to trust me,' whispered Snape almost inaudibly.

'Trust you? Have you gone mad?' Hermione jumped back.

'Keep your voice down! Lucius will be behind this door any second now, and if there is anything I know about him, it's that he will bring company.'

'What are you talking about? No… I'd rather die than …'

'The door is there,' he cut her off. Cold as ice. Hermione didn't move. The thought of falling back into Bellatrix Lestrange's hands was too much to bear. 'Didn't think so,' he snarled.

Hermione started to protest again right when he pushed her on the bed. She crawled to the corner, turning her head away from him.

'Severus?' A knock on the door. 'You in there?'

'Just do as I say,' Snape whispered and ripped her cardigan off, sending the buttons scattering all over the floor. 'A little busy,' he shouted back at the door.

Hermione screamed, trying to move away from him.

'Having fun with the little mudblood?' Lucius asked.

'Perhaps. If you stopped talking to me.'

'Very well, but I am not going anywhere,' Lucius snapped back.

Snape grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and brought his lips to her ear. 'Listen very carefully. I am not going to hurt you. I'm not going to touch you, but I have to shred your clothes. Do you understand?' He pulled back, his face barely inches from hers. She could feel his warm breath tickle her cheek. He smelled of wine and smoke. There was an urgency in his eyes Hermione did not understand, but she stopped struggling and nodded slowly, still terrified inside.

'Good. Now, scream,' he ordered, ripping her shirt open.

Hermione flinched and let out a cry. She heard laughter from behind the door. What was he doing? What kind of a sick power play was this?

Snape had thrown his robe to the other side of the room, frantically unbuttoning his black waistcoat. When he was halfway done, he placed his knee against the bedframe, mouthed 'watch your head', and pushed. The bed bumped against the wall, earning him another laughter from the other side of the door. It was slowly beginning to dawn on Hermione what her former professor was doing. A charade. While Snape was still unbuttoning his waistcoat, she jumped off the bed and pushed it with all the strength she had left in her. The bed bumped into the wall louder than before. Snape nodded approvingly and leaned closed to whisper instructions into her ear. 'Beg.'

A shiver ran down Hermione's spine. 'What?'

'Beg me not to do it.'

Hermione stared at him, mouth falling open. Did she really have to … 'No, professor, please… Please don't!' Hermione forced out. It wasn't hard. She had uttered those very same words mere minutes ago downstairs, meaning them with all her heart. It was just that now she was in a dimly lit bedroom with her former professor, half-naked, screaming and begging. All to make a bunch of death eaters believe he was taking her against her will. A blush crept up her neck.

'Louder,' he whispered.

'Please, stop!' Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor.

Snape finally got rid of his waistcoat and started unbuttoning the white shirt underneath. So many buttons crossed Hermione's mind right before he pushed, and the bed crashed into the wall again. He groaned. She forced out a small pathetic whimper. Snape nodded at her again, slowly turning his gaze away from her blushing face.

Finally, when all his buttons were open and his shirt hung loose on his body, he sat down next to her and gestured her to keep quiet. He mouthed, 'Scratch my face.'

'What?' Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

'Do it!' he ordered.

Hermione brought her fingers to his face. It was dry and warm, and she could feel his pulse throbbing under his jawline. Fast. Way too fast. She pressed her nails into his cheek and scratched it.

'You'll have to do better than that,' Snape hissed. 'Harder.'

Hermione forced her nails into his alabaster white skin, until she could see tiny drops of blood form on the surface. He grimaced and pushed her hand away. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She didn't want to do it. Didn't want to hurt him. She only hoped he knew what he was doing.

Only a minute or so later they heard Lucius' voice again. 'Why so quiet?'

Oh, how she loathed this vile man. And judging by the look on his face Snape wasn't very happy about it either. Could it be? Could he really be Dumbledore's spy? But he had killed the headmaster, hadn't he? Hermione opened her mouth, but Snape's hand closed over it and made her stay quiet.

'Severus?' This time it was Bellatrix Lestrange's voice.

Without removing his hand, Snape looked her straight in the eyes and answered, 'Her mouth is … otherwise … occupied.'

Hermione's eyes grew wide, and for a moment she felt so mortified she considered storming out of the room and just letting whichever death eater was the closest to kill her. Yet, a nagging thought warned her that as soon as stepped out of the room, she'd be tossed to the snatchers to do what they will with her. And she was sure they weren't ones to pretend. To hell with it then. If he was risking his own life to save her, the least she could do was to be as much help as possible. It felt like a perfect moment to improvise. How very Gryffindor of her. Snape had turned his eyes to the door now, and it made her feel less ashamed. She started to let out small noises that sounded like something between a sob and a moan. She figured that, with Snape's hand still covering her mouth, the muffled sounds would seem believable enough. Her own saliva got caught in her throat and she made a wet half-gagging half-coughing sound. The look of surprise and horror in her former professor's eyes was almost funny, had they not been in a gravely dangerous situation. Hermione felt herself salivate all over Snape's palm, and when he finally pulled his hand away, she gasped for air and coughed once more. It made her eyes water. That earned her another round of laughter, someone actually clapped. The evil sound made her stomach turn, she felt like she was going to be sick.

Snape wiped his hand into his black trousers, stood up and knocked on the door from the inside. 'Enough, the party is over.'

Hermione heard shuffling behind the door. Everything went quiet.

'You're not going to vomit, are you?' He eyed her carefully.

'No. No, I was just trying to help,' she answered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

'Yes, well, that was rather enthusiastic.' Snape opened his belt, ran his hand though his hair, ruffling it, and unlocked the door. 'Wait here.'

Hermione nodded and crawled back on the bed. She heard him lock the door again from the outside. What just happened? Somehow, she thought she'd feel more ashamed of the situation than she had. Must be from all the adrenaline, she figured. She couldn't stop shaking. The longer he was gone, the more the adrenaline rush subsided, and she started to worry. What if someone else comes? What if they didn't fall for it? She should at least not have her jeans on, should Malfoy storm into the room. With trembling hands, she started to unbutton her jeans, when she heard the lock turn again. Snape stepped inside, holding two glasses and a bottle of something that looked like muggle wine. He had fastened his belt again but hadn't bothered buttoning up his shirt. Seeing Hermione's hands on the fly of her jeans, he froze.

'What are you doing?'

'I just figured if someone else came into the room …' she started.

'I locked the door.'

'You know better than I do that no lock will keep away a death eater.'

Always with the snarky comments. 'Indeed,' he answered dryly. 'But I can assure you no one else is going to step their foot into this room tonight. They're gone for now. Care for some wine?'

'I- I… um …'

'It's not poisoned, if that is what you are wondering, miss Granger,' he snapped.

'Right. Yes, please.'

He filled both glasses with wine. 'It will help you recover from the shock,' he pointed at her exposed and throbbing collarbone. She had realised by now that Snape must have been on their side the whole time. And still, something didn't quite add up.

'Why are you helping me?' she asked, pulling the hems of her shirt tighter around her. 'Why did you drag me up here instead of letting that Lestrange woman torture me?'

Snape snorted. 'And you are supposed to be the brightest witch of your age. I am sure you have figured it out by now.'

'You are on our side. But that does not explain …'

'Albus would have wanted me to –'

Hermione cut him off, almost yelling now. 'Professor Dumbledore is dead. He doesn't want anything anymore. I want to know what you get out of it.'

'Do not raise your voice at me.' There was a hint of threat in his voice. 'I don't expect anything in return.'

'So what you are trying to tell me is that you did it out of the goodness of your heart? Is that it?'

'Tell me something, miss Granger. Do you really find me that repulsive you would let Bellatrix torture you rather than pretend I had my way with you? Because I fail to understand what exactly you are complaining about.' Snape's facial expression revealed nothing, it was a solid mask, polished by years of serving as a double agent.

'What? No … I- No.' Hermione could barely get the words out. Her face fell. She felt ungrateful and was startled by her own outburst. 'I don't find you repulsive.'

Snape held a glass out for her. 'Drink up, you are shaking.'

'Thank you.' Hermione took the glass from him. 'Uh, professor? Can I ask you something?'

'By all means. When have I ever managed to stop you from asking a question?'

Hermione laughed sarcastically. 'Right. Where exactly are we, professor?'

'Malfoy Manor,' he answered. 'And stop calling me professor, I'm not your teacher anymore.'

'Are…' She gulped. 'Are Harry and Ron alive?'

'In the cellar. Unharmed. At least until morning.' Snape took a big sip from his own glass. 'Miss Granger, you have to understand, this is all I can do for you. At dawn you will be back in the hands of fate I'm afraid.' He refused to meet her eyes.

'I understand. Sir, your cheek …' Hermione began. 'I'm …'

'Don't,' he interrupted. 'I asked you to do it. The others seem to think you are some sort of a feral cat. Why disappoint them.'

Hermione snorted. 'That's rich coming from a bunch of death eaters.'

Snape picked his robe up from the floor and tossed it to her. 'Cover yourself.'

She wrapped the black cloth awkwardly around her and noticed he was staring at the bed. 'There is something I have to ask you I'm afraid. Is there anything missing from the scene of the crime?'

'Pardon?'
Snape brought his fingers to his forehead and massaged it. He looked fed up and uncomfortable. 'Blood, Granger. Is there supposed to be blood?'

The sheets. But of course. 'Ah … um … no,' she answered quickly. She saw him exhale like he'd been holding his breath. He's relieved. 'Unless you want them to think you were being extremely brutal with me that is.'

Her words made him clench his fist. For a second, she almost thought he'd looked hurt.

Snape cleared his throat. 'That won't be necessary. I'd rather they think I broke you spirit first. That is what it's about, isn't it? Breaking the spirit rather than the body.'

She took a step back, feeling lightheaded. 'You've … done it before.' It wasn't a question.

'Would you believe me if I told you I haven't?'

Silence.

'I'm sure you are dying to take a look into my mind and find out but …'

'But you're an Occlumens,' Hermione interrupted. 'I would only see what you wanted me to see.'

'Ah, Potter told you.'

'I would have figured it out myself, you know.'No one had actually taught her Legilimency but he did not need to know that.

'Of course you would have. Be as it may, it hardly makes any difference whether you believe me or not, miss Granger.'

Hermione had no reason to believe him, but she did. Somehow he seemed vulnerable. Honest. Far from the always so composed potions master. 'Did you enjoy yourself tonight?' she couldn't help but ask, sipping the wine. She had nothing to lose.

'Excuse me?' What was wrong with this girl? Perhaps he shouldn't have brought her that wine.

'You heard me. That little game of yours, did you enjoy it?'

Snape's expression was unreadable. Were his hands starting to tremble?

'You really must think me a monster.' He shook his head. 'For that I cannot blame you. But I will have you know that I would never find pleasure in taking women by force. Never.' His pitch-black eyes stared right into hers. 'Even if they are insufferable know-it-alls.' She remembered him calling her that many years ago in class. It felt like a lifetime ago. And was that a … smirk? Barely noticeable and gone in a second but she was sure she had registered it.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. Was there something especially inebriating in this wine or was it the war, the possibility of this being the last day of her life that made her so daring? His voice. His eyes. They ignited a spark deep inside her belly. She crossed the room and stood between his spread legs. He looked so human, with his shirt still hanging open at the front and his black hair a bit tousled. She wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair. He also looked tired, so incredibly tired, not only from the same night, but from life itself. She could only imagine the toll being a spy takes on one's life. The things he must have witnessed. He was risking his life every single day.

'I don't think you are a monster. I never have.'

'Don't lie to me, Granger. And spare me the I-always-knew-you-were-a-good-person speech. I don't need your pity. I don't want it.'

'I'm serious,' Hermione said wearily. 'Harry always doubted you. You know Harry is as stubborn as they come. I was the one who told him and everybody else that if Dumbledore trusted you, there must have been a reason for it. And when someone made nasty remarks about you at school, I was the one who asked them to stop. Don't get me wrong, I never particularly liked you, of course, considering the way you treated me in class. Some of the things you said were very hurtful. But I always respected you. Always. Or at least until you …'

'Killed Albus,' he finished for her.

'Look, I'm not going to ask why or how, I know you can't tell me. But I will not let you sit here and blame me for lying. Or for pitying you.'

Hermione reached out her hand and gently touched the scratch she had left on his face earlier. Snape closed his eyes.

'Does it hurt?' she asked, caressing it carefully.

'This is highly inappropriate, miss Granger.' His voice was barely a low whisper.

'Ah, after everything that has happened tonight this is inappropriate?' Hermione didn't move. She wasn't scared of him.

Snape pushed her hand away from his face and sighed, letting his head drop. She could tell he was getting angry. 'As I recall, you said that you would rather die than …' He choked on his last words. He cleared his throat and took another sip from his glass. His hands were most definitely shaking now.

'Oh, I- What I meant by that was I would rather die than let Lucius Malfoy … watch. Or worse.' The adrenaline. She felt her heart pound like it was trying to escape her chest.

Snape scoffed. 'He would never lay a hand on you.'

'Right.' For the first time in her life, she was truly glad to be a filthy little mudblood. And she couldn't care less about any of the Malfoys anymore.

Hermione pushed his robe off her shoulders. Then she let her gaze slide over his body and couldn't help but notice he was breathing heavily. The predatory look in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. He looked hungry. Never had she thought danger would excite her so much.

Hermione took his hand and placed it on her collarbone. 'A monster wouldn't have saved me from her. She is a monster. You are not.'

Snape traced the flesh around her wound with a warm finger. His touch was gentle. So very gentle. His hand radiated heat when it travelled up her neck and his thumb stopped on her lower lip. It made her want to suck the tip of his thumb into her mouth. Her own thoughts and actions startled her. Did he put something in her drink? The fire in her lower stomach was beginning to crackle.

Suddenly, he pulled his hand back as if he had been bitten by a snake. 'The things I've done, miss Granger. You'd be surprised. No, you'd be horrified. And … I cannot forget the look on your face when I locked you inside this room with me. Nor can I forget how you begged me to stop. I can't do this.'

Hermione's stomach clenched. She downed the rest of her wine in one gulp and turned her back to the armchair, placing the empty glass on the black wooden table before her. Without daring to look back at him, she said, 'What if … What if I told you that if you touched me right now, I would not beg you to stop.' Her face flushed and her whole body felt like it was on fire. The room went silent. The only thing she could hear was her own erratic breathing. It was ironic, considering the circumstances, how alive she felt.

'What did you say?'

She spoke up. 'You heard me.'

He stood up and stepped behind her. 'Are you mocking me, Granger? Is this your idea of a joke?' She tried to calm her desperately beating heart. 'Turn around and look at me when I'm talking to you.'

Hermione turned and found herself standing almost chest to chest with him. 'I meant what I said.'

'No, you didn't. You are not thinking straight. You don't want this. It is the adrenaline rushing through your veins. You are grateful. You were in pain, and I took it away. You think that you owe me something. You don't. You should get some sleep. It should help put things back into perspective. Take the bed, I'll stay in the chair.'

Snape took a step back and Hermione grabbed him by the wrist. 'Don't patronise me,' she snapped. 'And do not tell me what I want or don't want. I'm not a child.' For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other, her thumb stroking the inside of his wrist in small circles.

'If you say so,' he finally replied, pulling his hand free from her grip.

'Well, I have embarrassed myself enough for one night it seems. Though it wouldn't surprise me if you slipped something in my wine,' she said, averting her gaze. He didn't want her. The nauseatingly tingly feeling that always overcame her when she felt anxious and embarrassed was taking hold of her once again. She couldn't stop her legs from shaking, and she had to lean against the table to keep herself up. Hermione grabbed the hems of her ripped shirt, trying to cover her chest. How had she read him so wrong?

'Yes and no. I did not slip Amortentia or any desire-provoking potion in your glass if that's what you are implying. However, I did add something to soothe the pain and to calm your nerves.' He paused. 'I know how being tortured affects one's body. And soul.'

'Oh.'

Snape caught sight of her legs. 'Although by the looks of it, it is not working very well.'

Hermione sighed. 'Pour me another.'

'As you wish.' Snape refilled both glasses with the blood-red liquid and handed one to her. He didn't let go until she met his eyes. There was this stupid smirk again. He was positively infuriating. Who was mocking whom now?

He brought his glass to his lips and took a long sip. 'There really is no need to be embarrassed, miss Granger. I have to admit, I'm quite flattered.' Oh, so now he was flattered. She wished the ground would just split open and swallow her whole. 'But you do realise I don't have feelings for you, don't you? I could never love you. I don't think I'm even capable of such sentiment anymore.'

She wondered if he had felt this alone and bitter his whole life. Deep inside he was just a little scared boy. Hermione downed the wine and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. 'Well, don't flatter yourself too much. I don't recall saying anything about love. It was just basic human contact I was craving. Or is that also something you are not capable of?'

She knew he could see right through her bravado. Something in his face had shifted. The situation seemed to amuse him. 'Is that so? Basic human contact, hm?'

'Yes. That is so.'

Severus placed his glass on the table and loomed over Granger, trapping her between his body and the table. To hell with it then. Yes, to hell with it. If she wants to play, he can play. 'Say it again. What you said before, say it again.'

'If you touched me right now, I would not beg you to stop,' she breathed.

He leaned closer and spoke into her ear, 'Want to know what I think? I think danger excites you. I think it excites you that you are completely at my mercy, and I can do whatever I want with you.' He felt her shudder and carefully wrap her arms around his neck. Her fingers got tangled in his hair. Severus slid one arm around her and pulled her closer. A wide devilish grin spread across his face. 'I think that the way I look at you makes you burn and ache -' he forced his free hand between her thighs, stroking her through the jeans, '- right here, doesn't it?' A quiet moan escaped her lips. 'Ah, there it is.'

Hermione tried to pull herself together. That smug bastard. Just a moment ago he had lectured her and now his lips brushed her ear and his hand forced her thighs open, making her ache with want. His bedroom voice drove her completely wild. Focus, Hermione. Play along. Now is not the time to be shy. Tomorrow you might all be dead. She pulled back, looking him straight in the eyes. 'I have no idea what you're talking about, sir.'

Severus didn't usually allow anyone to call him sir in bed. There were a few witches who had wanted to, but he made it very clear there wouldn't be any arguing about it. It wasn't something he liked. It reminded him of Hogwarts, and he had always preferred to keep his work separate from his intimate encounters. Never get intimate with another teacher, never ever get close to a student. Which was exactly the reason he felt so confused when Granger called him sir and it sent hot sparks of desire tingling down his spine. Perhaps it was because she didn't mean it like the others had. On her lips the word wasn't a sign of submission. For her it was a game. A way to tease him. That was not something he was familiar with. It was her playfulness that aroused him so much he couldn't hide it anymore.

Hermione gasped. The hand that had been stroking her now closed around her neck, gently but firmly. His eyes sparkled, threatening to burn a hole into her soul. There. Dilated pupils. Lust. He wanted her, too. 'Call me sir one more time and I promise you will take back everything you said about me not being a monster,' he growled.

Hermione pulled his face closer and kissed him, sucking his lower lip between her teeth. She bit down gently and released it. 'Take me to bed.'

The night had taken a turn Severus had not expected. Granger was smiling. Smiling and teasing him and asking him to bed her. Never in a million years could he have imagined this. As much as he wanted to push her against the wall and take her so hard she wouldn't be able to walk in the morning, he still had to take into consideration the shock she had experienced earlier. He had to let her know she was the one in control, even if the play suggested otherwise. Severus let go of her neck, took her face into his hands and kissed her. Slowly, exploring her mouth with his tongue, letting her tongue explore his. Then he picked her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he walked them to the bed. He laid her on the bed and climbed on top. She reached down, trying to get hold of his belt. "Not so fast." Severus stopped her, closing his hand over both of her wrists. Granger whimpered. She actually whimpered when he restricted her movements. This girl was going to be the end of him. 'Listen. I am not going to deny I would like to do with you exactly as I please. Trust me, this is very, very tempting. However, if I do something you don't want me to do, you tell me. Right away. If you want me to stop, you tell me. If you can't get the words out, push me away, hit me, anything to make me stop. The very second you feel you are not comfortable with this anymore. Is that clear?' Were those tears in Granger's eyes? 'We can stop now.'

Hermione felt her eyes fill with tears. Safe. He wanted her to feel safe. Yet his words also made her feel like there was a lot of self-loathing hidden deep underneath. Like he was expecting her to push him away any second now. She nodded. 'I don't want to stop,' she assured him.

'Are you certain?'

'I am.' He let go of her wrists. 'Are you?'

He smiled. It was the first time she saw him smile like that. As if he had let his guard down at once. 'Oh, I am.'

'Good. Make me yours, please.'

So subtle. The corner of Severus' mouth twitched. His? She would never be his. What a typical Granger thing to say. He was surprised she hadn't asked him to make love to her. He attacked her neck with his lips and teeth, while her hands unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She lifted her hips, letting him rip them off her body. Severus pulled off her already shredded shirt and she reached behind her back to help him with the bra. Suddenly it was all sloppy quick kisses and fumbling with her clothes, trying to get them out of the way as fast as possible.

'You are wearing too many clothes,' Hermione breathed, trying to push his shirt off his shoulders. Wait. Was he … hesitating? 'Or if you want to keep them on, I don't mind.'

'Leave the shirt …' he began. 'The dark mark … I don't want you to see it.'

Hermione nodded. 'I understand.' She ran her hands over his shoulders and collarbones under the white cotton, slipping her fingers into the hair on his chest. She was mesmerised by him. His erection was becoming very evident now, pressing against her and demanding attention. She swallowed. 'You're beautiful,' she whispered and kissed him. This time he didn't stop her from unfastening his belt. Hermione slipped one hand inside his trousers and wrapped her fingers around him, feeling his soft length against her palm. With her other hand, she cupped his cheek. A guttural sound escaped his lips. His considerate words still resonating deep inside her chest, she started to stroke him and whisper words of reassurance. 'You have no idea how much I want you. Remember what you said before about setting me on fire by just looking at me? You were right. You look at me and I burn. I burn for you. You whisper something into my ear, and I feel like could melt into a puddle. Yes, danger excites me. But what excited me even more was finding out that even though I was completely at your mercy, you chose not to hurt me.'

'Enough,' he sighed.

Hermione let go of him. 'Did I cross a line?'

'No. No … You are full of surprises, miss.' He let out a soft low chuckle. It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. What was happening to her? This man had completely bewitched her. She watched him push down his trousers and underwear, throwing them on the floor. Then he slid his long fingers underneath her underwear, slowly pulling them down. 'I believe you told me I have no idea how much you want me, but I might have to disagree.'

'Don't look so pleased with yourself,' she quipped back.

He wasn't smiling anymore. Instead, he nudged her thighs apart and settled between them. 'Show me how much you want me.'

Severus almost lost control when she took hold of him and guided him inside her. Was he dreaming? 'Move,' she whispered, pulling him down onto her chest. Definitely not dreaming. When he started to thrust inside her, Granger winced and tensed up.

He stilled. 'I'm hurting you.'

'No. It's alright.'

He knew that could happen. It had been a rough night. She probably hadn't slept properly for days. Her body was small and delicate. 'Should I stop?'

'I swear if you ask me one more time ...'

'I'll go easy.' He began to move again, painfully slowly and gently, until he could feel her relax around him.

'Better?'

'Mm-hm.'

She seemed so pure and innocent, he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Ironic. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper. Like she couldn't get enough of him. Soft moans filled his ear when he started to speed up his pace. 'Yes, yes …' Only for him. Quiet little moans. Not because she was pretending. Not for the public behind the door. Only for him, because of him. 'Look at me.' Her eyes sparkled with lust and pleasure and need. It was the first time someone looked at him like that. 'Can you see it?' she purred.

'I see it.' He dared to slide one hand back on her throat, holding it firmly but not choking her. Hermione whimpered. 'No?' he asked.

'Yes. God, yes.'

He nearly lost himself right there and then. Her neck was so delicate. It was beautiful how she trusted him now to break it. It drove him wild how she surrendered to him, and he knew she could tell he was getting close.

'Let go,' she encouraged. She dragged her nails up and down his back. 'You won't hurt me.' With a few hard and deep thrusts he came undone and tumbled on top of her. He tried to lift himself off her as soon as his hips had steadied but Granger stopped him. 'Stay. Just for a moment.' So he let her hold him because she didn't want him to get off. She didn't want him to leave. It frightened him. She ran her hands absentmindedly up and down his back, repeating one more time, 'You are a beautiful man.' This was not something he had ever expected to hear from a woman. He was convinced that she said it only to make him feel good. Still, it startled him how much this felt like … home. No, no, no. 'Thank you.'

Severus rolled himself off her body. He noticed Granger instinctively press her thighs together. 'What are you thanking me for? You didn't think we're done, did you? Let me just catch my breath.'

'But you … finished.'

'And you didn't. So we're not done.' He rested on one elbow next to her, drawing circles around her navel. 'Your turn.' Oh no. He shouldn't have used those words. But Granger didn't even flinch. He slipped his fingers between her thighs. 'I saw you burn but I haven't seen you in ashes yet.' He noticed how his voice painted goosebumps all over her naked body. 'May I?'

'Y- yes.'

'Spread your legs for me.' His index finger brushed lightly against the most sensitive spot on her body when she complied. 'Tell me what you like.'

Hermione blushed, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. She had only ever done it alone. 'I'm not very good at verbalising.'

Severus snorted. Really? In class he had always struggled to find ways to shut her up.

'You're laughing at me …'

'I'm not laughing. I'm not.' He placed his hand on top of hers and guided it back between her legs. 'Show me then.'

Hermione closed her eyes and started to rub herself in small consistent circles. He kept his hand on hers, waiting for her to relax.

'Let me try?' She nodded. Severus wet his fingers between her folds and kept up the same intensity and pace she had built up. Soon her breathing grew shallower. Feeling her rough curly hair under his palm made his mouth water. But he didn't dare to ask. 'You're tensing up. Breathe. You have to hand over the control. Don't fight it. Stop thinking and just feel me.'

He pressed his lips to her neck, licking and sucking gently, making sure his fingers never lost their rhythm. 'Mark me,' Hermione gasped. Severus trapped the delicate skin between his teeth, biting and sucking while her moans reverberated through his own body. Only for him. Hermione grasped his hand. 'More pressure. Yes ...'

He nibbled at her earlobe. 'Burn for me.' She came undone under his piercing gaze, pressing her nails into his arm. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He was wrong before. Perhaps he could love someone like her. In time. In another life. Yes, perhaps. But she will never know.

'Now we are done.' He pressed a kiss on her shoulder, waiting for her breathing to slow down again. 'If a man ever tries to leave your bed again without taking care of you, hex him. Do not thank him.'

Hermione chuckled. 'I'll be sure to remember that.'

Later, when Severus wanted to put the rest of his clothes back on and retreat to the armchair, she asked him to stay. He pulled a blanket over their spent bodies and let her lie in his embrace. As soon as his body calmed, dark thoughts began to take over again. If Bellatrix gets another chance to torture her, she might tell her everything she knows. About anything at all, just to make the pain go away.

'No one can know. Not Weasley, definitely not Potter … No one can know where my loyalties lie,' he started.

'I know. I know what's at stake here.'

That's not good enough. You will have to make sure she'll never talk.

'Can you promise me something?' he asked, caressing her hair.

'That depends entirely on what you are about to ask.'

'If you survive the battle and I don't … Promise me you will not regret this. Promise me you won't hate me for this.'

Hermione felt her heart break a little. 'I promise.'

For a little while she listened to his breathing, feeling his heartbeat under her palm. 'Are you still awake?'

'Yes,' Severus replied.

'Don't you find it odd not calling me by my name? I mean now that we've … you know.'

A beat. 'If we both survive …' He swallowed hard. 'If we both survive and meet again, I shall consider it.' He knew perfectly well there was absolutely no way he could survive the battle. Not after he had promised to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Not after he had made an unbreakable vow to protect Lucius Malfoy's son with the price of his own life. But Granger did not need to know that. She deserved a little bit of hope.

'Try to sleep,' Severus said. 'You must be exhausted.'

Soon Granger's lips parted a little, the fingers that had been playing with his chest hair stilled. Severus listened to her breathe, feeling her warmth against him. When was the last time someone wanted him like this? There had been a few witches who seemed attracted to his status as a death eater and the dark lord's loyal servant. None of them looked at him like Granger did. None of them ever uttered the words she had so willingly spilled. Even if she didn't really mean them, even if it was just a game, her words brought him solace. And yet, he couldn't help but feel disgusted with himself. Granger's soft young body lying next to him made his stomach flip with shame. The love bite on her neck now looked obscene. Yes, a war always makes them grow up too fast, but she is still just a child. Oh, Severus, what have you done. It was always Lily's voice scolding him in his own head. After all these years, it was still her voice. You took advantage of a child. You wanted to spare her body pain and corrupted her soul instead. No matter what she says now, she will resent you for it when it's all over.

Granger stirred a little and he woke from his gloomy musings. She hummed quietly in her sleep, smiled, just the tiniest twitch at the corners of her mouth, and murmured something that sounded awfully lot like "Severus".

His pulse started to race, and something tugged at his heart. This was bad. Very, very bad. He couldn't wait to die. He wanted it all to be over.

Carefully, so he wouldn't wake her, he climbed out of the bed and put his trousers back on. He picked up his wand, downed the abandoned glass of wine and went back to stand next to the bed. Severus' head was pounding, and an invisible iron fist crushed his heart when he caressed Granger's cheek, pointed his wand at her temple and whispered, 'Obliviate.'

Author's notes:

* This story is partly inspired by a song called Monster by Imagine Dragons.

* I tried to avoid any Americanisms but English is my native language so I apologise if something not-so-British accidentally slipped in.

* I know some of you are probably wondering about the lack of protection. There's a lot left unsaid in this story, but no, she won't get pregnant. I know I didn't explicitly spell it out, but I thought it would be pretty obvious he would make sure of it. (Since it's a one-shot and considering the ending.)

* I'll leave it up to the reader to decide exactly how many memories he took.

* Reviews are very welcome but please don't be rude.