Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me!

Note: So this chapter has finally arrived and all I can say is it was tough. I had the notes "Revel- she is there, they have sex" and that was it. I'm very pleased with what came out of this chapter, but it was very emotionally taxing for me. I cried more times than I would have wanted. In the end it captured what I wanted it to capture (or at least I hope so). The entire point of this story has been two people heading toward the same goals with a different mindset and motivation. I hope that in this chapter the feeling of a reckoning has been reached, and a sort of uneasy admiration has been established. There are only two more chapters to go before this story ends. I'd love to hear your take on this chapter, your thoughts and feelings. I feel like this is a very brave chapter for me to write in many ways - so naturally I'm curious about your thoughts. Comments, PMs likes and so on are all welcome. Hugs and happy start to the New Year!

Warning: Rape trigger, watch out it could get tough for you there.

Chapter 6: For the Love of A Woman

3 weeks later…

The weeks since her first visit to Resocialization Camp 5 had been as difficult as they were enlightening. Hermione was expected to do double the work of any other servant in Master Snape's household, doing all of her chores for him first, then apparating to the camp to continue in her controller function. Once she got over the death looks thrown her way by the majority of prison guards there and the attempts to intimidate her, things ran as smoothly as they could. One might expect that a girl of her age, 21 or 22 by this point, would buckle under the immense pressure thrust upon her, but she didn't. She thrived on it. Fueled by her deep desire to understand everything about the camp, to know its inner workings, to know its strengths and weaknesses, so she might orchestrate the greatest escape in the history of the Wizarding World.

It had been easy to commit the prison maps to memory, simple to understand when the best times would be to do launch such a daring escape. Between guard shifts was the most vulnerable time of the day. There were other hurdles though, wards on certain parts of the prison, security where they kept the wands. There was then, of course, the issue of the order in which she should let the prisoners out. To open all the doors would be mass chaos, to open the wrong ones would likely lead those less survival inclined witches and wizards to certain death. So Hermione had done her best to pour over the entire list of prisoners and their cell numbers, making sure they were etched into her mind. It was surprising to her how many of those committed there she knew or knew of, only very few names on the list were unheard of. Her fingertips tingled with the excitement of causing such a mass chaos in the prison, even if it meant her own demise. The fact that even just a few escapes over the years lead already to such drama within the Death Eater ranks, then having a full scale escape would lead to a much more severe punishment for the prison administrators. Severus Snape included, or at least she hoped.

The thought was bittersweet, given all that she had been through with the man over the last several months. This enigma of Snape had loomed heavy over her since she came to his house and been forced into his service. He had been everything she thought he was and then none of it at all. Severus Snape had saved her from death at the hands of his own kind, not knowing who she was and not caring. He had killed a man with the flick of his wrist for lunging himself at her in the Resocialization Camp, nearly beat the Warden to death for throwing a killing curse her way. At the same time he'd allowed her to see him vulnerable, all but told her directly about his love of a possible Order of the Phoenix member, taught her, molded her...groomed her. The confusion as to his person and his motives, which he had instilled in her over this short but intense time together made her shake her head in frustration. She didn't know what to think of the man, she didn't know if she should care. It would all be over soon, she would take a great setback to her plans of escape to Scotland and turn it into something so much more than she could have ever hoped for, 'A chance to start a rebellion.'

She was so caught up in her thoughts that it almost completely passed her by that something was off in the house today. Hermione noticed there were more things going on than usual, as she was hurrying about her normal chores. There was a nervous energy about the staff, a chatter that she couldn't quite place - the ballroom was being done up as well. Hermione didn't like deviation from the norm, not in this setting. Snape's house ran like clockwork, as a well oiled machine with everybody doing their jobs in the same tackt. So to see people rushing around, hurrying and causing some commotion put Hermione on edge.

Out of luck she happened to cross paths with Maddie, "What's going on?" she asked the matron.

The older lady was in a tizzy for sure, red faced and sweaty, "Oh dear no time to talk. The Dark Lord is coming today."

Hermione had to strain in order to not have her eyes bug out of her head. "Why wasn't I told?"

"Well I was only told two days ago, so don't feel too put out dear. You aren't responsible for the whole house. Oh and go see the Master, he's been looking for you." With a puff of frustration and a pat on the shoulder the older woman excused herself to run into the ballroom in order to inspect it.

Before her emotions could betray her, Hermione stole away in a broom closet and locked the door behind her. There she dropped to the floor, trembling uncontrollably. She'd feared the Dark Lord since she had first heard his name as a student at Hogwarts, he had since reeked such a devastation in the wizarding world and to Muggle-borns that her hatred for him was unfathomable. He would be here, tonight. The words of Maddie rang through her head as she held herself on the floor on all fours, doing her best not to vomit.

'Steady yourself.' she repeated, in an almost vain attempt to calm the sleeping beast inside of her. 'Why hasn't he told me of this before? Why leave it till now?' she sat back on her heels and put a hand on her forehead. There was no way she could mobilize herself quickly enough to orchestrate the escape from the prison this afternoon, but perhaps tomorrow. Hermione's head was swimming with the possibilities and recalculations she would need to do in order to execute her plan to her satisfaction and it was overwhelming. Balling up her fists she hit the wall and yelled. After a few moments she rose to her feet, fixed her uniform, wiped the sweat from her brow and made her way up to her Master's chambers.

It would be the first time they had spoken since the 'incident' three weeks ago. Initially she thought he had been avoiding her, but as she woke up, worked and fell into bed every night exhausted, she realized that he had also been more busy and she. Come to think of it, when she had caught a random glimpse of him he had been dark and brooding, more so than usual. She couldn't afford an assault on her mind today and hoped that he had other things on his mind than raping her thoughts.

She opened the door to his private chambers to see him at his desk admiring the photo of 'her' as he so often did. Though this time he did not make an attempt to hide it immediately or stuff it into the pocket of his waistcoat. He held it in the air a while longer before putting it face down on the desk and walking to her.

"You called Master." She offered, looking down at the floor for good measure.

"Indeed I did." He began, coming uncomfortably close to her. "You will not be going to the camp today, instead you will stay here and prepare me for our guest."

"Yes Master." That had already sealed the fact that she would not launch an escape today.

"The Dark Lord will be visiting us tonight, so I will need to have my best robes prepared and perfect. Is that understood?"

She could feel herself getting nervous, moving her fingers ever so slightly.

"You will prepare my robes, dress me for tonight's events, then go to your room and lock the door. Is that clear?" His voice got lower, more foreboding.

Confused she turned to look him in the eye.

"You will not open the door until the morning, when I come calling at 6am. At that point you will accompany us to the camp, where your work will be displayed for the Dark Lord himself." There was something predatory in his gaze, it made her skin crawl. Hermione did her best not to show it.

"Yes Master I understand." She couldn't place it, but something had spooked him. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that a revel would happen at the manor tonight, otherwise he would not have asked her to lock her door. She had studied enough of Death Eater culture in her previous life to put the pieces together. Though if they could not get Muggles to defile, they might go for Snape's staff, perhaps half-bloods. The Death Eaters were vultures afterall, a way of life destined for self implosion.

"Then get to it." He spat the words out as individual orders and she hurried herself to his dresser. In so doing Hermione threw a backward glance toward his desk, the picture was still there where he had left it. Certainly he wouldn't wear it to such an event as the revel that would happen tonight. She'd have a chance to snatch it then, to see who his mystery woman was once and for all. If she was indeed an Order member it would deepen the mystery of Severus Snape more than she could fathom.

It was a rare occasion that Hermione Granger was required to dress her Master from head to toe. She was not sure if it was meant to be a reward or a punishment, given the forced intimacy of the situation. What she did know, was that it provided her with an insight into the man that few had, and that it was the only intimate human contact she had experienced in a long time. It was shocking to her how much she craved the touch of another, no matter who that person might be to her. Touching another person tenderly, even that of her enemy reminded her that she still existed in this crazy dark world. It gave her hope that, someday, she would reconnect with people despite all the evil done to her and her kind.

As she stared at Snape's naked body standing in front a three paned mirror, Hermione became acutely aware of the evil that had been done to him too. His white skin was striking, beautiful even. The scars that littered his body however, told of pain, anguish and unspeakable horror. The most distinct were those left by the Cruiciatis curse, like bolts of pale lightening covering his body. There were layers upon layers of these scars, criss crossing each other in an attempt to leave no bit of his normal skin exposed. The pain he must have suffered was more than Hermione dared to think about. There were other scars on his body as well, some you could only see up close. The task he had given her of rubbing spice scented oil over the entirety of his body had afforded her this intimate look at him. The smaller scars told of torture with nails, pins, pokers things Hermione did not want to image. Larger scars told of knives, fights with various objects, things the Dark Lord considered fun and entertaining leaving these dark imprints of a lifetime of abuse and torture for all who were attuned to it to see.

'How many times have you fought for supremacy and won?' Hermione wondered to herself as she smoothed her hands over his body.

Despite everything she wanted to feel, everything she had forced herself to feel, Hermione Granger could not help but feel sorry for the man who stood in front of her. This stoic man, who stared straight ahead as if she were not there, as if in a trance. He was an old lion, who had protected his supremacy over his pride for ages and was showing signs of decline. The weariness of age, mixed with the slow and subtle breaking of will. She slid him into his trousers, fixed his white shirt with his emerald cufflinks, and couldn't shake the feeling, as she buttoned the many buttons on his waist coat up to his neck that she was preparing him for war. Suiting him up in a wollen victorian armor that would afford him no protection against the horrors that would await him at the revel tonight. The final piece of his dress, a green ribbon to tie back his long hair in a formal style. It was difficult for her to suppress this pressure in her nasal cavity, this feeling that came when you were trying as hard as possible to fight tears from springing forth.

Finished, she took a step back from him, placing her hands in front of her and observing him in the mirror. For as much as she hated to admit it, he was an attractive man. He held a sense of pride and class that few wizards had. He observed her work in his normal quiet, critical way before affirming that she had done her job well.

"Come with me to the ballroom, then go to your room. No deviations from the normal route, just go there and lock the door." She looked down at the floor and nodded, still confused as to why he would take her well being so seriously.

Her heart beat wildly as they made their way through the large manor house. Her chest tightened as she heard the laughing of Death Eaters in the room in front of them. She saw her Master inhale deeply, then push the doors open, not even throwing her a second glance. Hermione swallowed hard, letting the churning in her stomach subside before making her way back. There would be one minor deviation from the plan, she would quickly stop by his office, to see the picture of the woman he had so coveted all this time.

Severus Snape knelt before the Dark Lord knowing that he was being punished for his last several months of administrative lapse in Camp 5. He was covered in blood, clutching his left side in desperate need of attending to the bleeding before he passed out. The broken ribs and fingers he would deal with later, but the gash in his side he would need to get under control once the demon gave him leave. He had never been asked to fight so long and so hard for the enjoyment of his Death Eater brothers before, it had been against beasts, other wizards, muggles all had been vanquished under his skillful hands. As everything with the Dark Lord it had a cost, he had upset his Master, the political tide was turning against him and yet he would not just lay down and die.

"Get out of my sight Severusss." The demon hissed, shewing him with an idol hand.

Severus shot a look at at Wormgood, who was still showing signs of the injuries he had inflicted on him three weeks before, and smiled. Going and crying to Dark Lord would earn him nothing but the ire of his own brothers in the end, he would perish because he pissed the wrong person off. Severus then carried himself off to the side of the room, on a small couch and began to attend to himself with potions and incantations. He was black and blue, his white shirt stained red and pink with the blood of his enemies and his own, he leaned his head back on the couch. The worst of the night was over, in a manner of speaking, the main attraction finished. Now it would just be the rape and party part of the evening, with a healthy dose of alcohol he would be able to block out everything he needed to in order to survive it.

The unmistakable sounds of jeering and whistling from his so called brothers, indicated the women and boys were being brought out. Severus kept his head leaned back on the sofa and his eyes shut a moment longer, not caring what was coming through the door or what he would be left with in the end. There was always a struggle in the beginning to get the choicest victims to ravage, the slimmer pickings left to those who were not fast or strong. But he didn't care, not tonight anyway. It would all be over soon, this night, his life...his plan for revenge, everything.

Then a yell escaped the mouths of one of the girls and it sent him back to the border crossing several months ago. To when he had turned his head and investigated the exact same sound further, because it sounded like 'Her.' Squeezing his eyes shut just a few seconds longer he then opened them, lifting his heavy head from the back of the couch toward the sorry souls who would serve as tonight's amusement.

'Oh fucking Merlin, fuck!' he raged, seeing his chambermaid, Erica, amongst the lambs lead to slaughter.

'I told her to go to her room, I told her to lock her door.' He angrily wiped his fingers across his chin and flexed the broken fingers on his other hand, knowing that to rebreak them now would cause them permanent damage. If she died here, tonight, it would ruin everything he had worked so hard for. It would destroy his plans, his impending death would be for nothing. 'Her' legacy destroyed. There was no way he could let that happen, even if it meant giving everything tonight so that she would live.

Severus breathed deeply in order to calm his raging temper. But his injuries were severe enough that he would need to medicate himself further. This consisted of taking a huge swig of firewhisky and harnessing the pure adrenaline that ran through his body. He eyed his brothers, trying to determine who would go for her first and seeing that McNair and Wormgood were both taking a long look. His eyes then turned to Erica, she had a split lip and a black patch was forming around her eye. She'd fought back, no big surprise there and she was the only one not crying and begging for their life.

'Stupid girl.' He said to himself, admonishing her silently.

There was a short silence, where everything seemed to move in slow motion, then they were off running like rabid beasts toward their prey. Severus was slower than normal, due to his injuries, so McNair got to Erica first, grabbing her by the neck and pulling her toward him. Severus kicked the wizard in the stomach, forcing him to loosen his grip on his chambermaid and focus his attentions on him.

"Sectumsempra" Severus yelled, pointing his wand at his opponent. Blood began to ooze from McNair's body.

Severus took this moment to punch his opponent in the face, feeling the further crunch of his already painfully broken fingers. The man fell to the floor, his wand sliding out of reach. Severus pointed his wand at the man's throat.

"Yield brother."

McNair nodded and scuttled away, in search of whatever he could find that was left of the evening delights.

Severus then turned toward where he had left Erica, to find that Wormgood had the girl by the wrist. As Severus made his way toward her he watched Erica rear her fist back and punch the fat man right in his broken nose. Wormgood let out a scream and both hands flew to his face. By then Severus was able to stand between them, his head cocked to the side his lips contorted into a sneer that could kill. The blonde man squeaked and ran off, not wanting to relive another beating at the hands of Severus Snape.

Throwing a sideways glance at Erica he grabbed the girl by the wrist and dragged her to his couch, flinging her there with authority. He then turned around to see if any more of his brothers would challenge him that night. He was breathing hard, heaving with anger, adrenaline and testosterone. Seeing that all of the hyenas were beginning to feast on their prey, he turned to his chambermaid. She was not afraid, her big brown eyes looking up at him in sadness and confusion, but not in fear. He must be quite a sight to behold, beaten, bloody and wild. He bent over her, straddling her on the couch and took her jaw in his hand.

"You know what I have to do now." He breathed, eyeing her with both anger and interest.

She nodded.

He wanted to slap her, scream at her, push her against the wall and berate her for how stupid she had been. He wanted to beat her within an inch of her life, for how she had put all of his plans at risk. EVERYTHING he had done for 'Her', his Hermione, for the love of a woman had been put in jeopardy tonight. Everything. And yet...her calm eyes soothed him, quieted the fury inside. They made him think of Hermione, made him remember who he was and what he was fighting so hard for.

Severus leaned closer, speaking into her ear, "Pretend I'm anybody, pretend I'm anybody else but me."

He could feel her nod.

"Just keep your eyes closed. Whatever you do, whatever you hear, do not open your eyes." When he pulled back her face was full of questions, ones he would not answer now.

She closed her eyes and he ripped open the front of her uniform, the sound of the fabric sharp against the background of human suffering. He continued ripping the fabric until he made his way to her skirt pulling it off quickly. With a hand on her shoulder, pressing most of his weight on her he surveyed his prey inhaling her scent and feeling her warmth. She could be any woman in this moment, any at all...but what she was to him was so much more complicated.

He flipped her over, putting her on her hands and knees, not able to look at her face. His mind was playing tricks on him, his delirium and loss of blood making him see things that weren't there. All he could see was Hermione's face, Hermione's breasts….her face overlaid with Erica's, Erica's face overlaid with Hermione's. He gripped her panties and pulled them down over her thighs, she has such a sweet little ass and cunt, he hardened instantly at the sight and smell of it.

'I am such a bastard.' he thought to himself as he lowered his pants, wetted the tip of his cock with her juices and teased himself. The sounds of people screaming in pain, fear and death were all around them as he sheathed himself completely inside Erica. She let out a gasp, tightening her already tiny entrance around him firmly.

For as much as he loathed himself at this very moment, he couldn't deny how good it felt to be close to her. Her skin was soft to the touch, her sweet soft warmth inviting him to pump his hips into her more. She was trembling at his continued strokes and Severus couldn't be sure if it was from pain or pleasure. Though the former seemed more likely than the latter. But that didn't matter now anyway, he had to keep up appearances. So he continued, undeterred by her tiny gasps and trembles. She was so wet now, coating his cock in a layer of thick warm lubrication that smelled so intoxicating, he could trick himself into believing she wanted him. He knew better, knew the body did what the body needed to do to procreate, to carry on the human race.

He leaned over, checking to see if her eyes were still closed. He didn't want her to see the horrors unfolding in the room around them. Luckily her eyes were still closed tightly, tears streaming down them. Severus couldn't blame her, the horrific screams of rape filled the air, mixed with the gurgling sounds of people dying or pleading for their lives. You'd have to be a special kind of sick and twisted individual to get off on that…'or not even register it.' He thought to himself. Severus shook his head, focusing on the rythmic sound of their coupling, that wet intense slapping that would eventually bring him to orgasim. The sooner he finished the sooner they could slip out of the ballroom, unnoticed. He placed both hands on her hips now, bringing her firmly back to him with the knowledge that their collective agony would soon end. He could feel it, that deep pull in his groin, that flutter in his stomach, his cock harden further … then release the shuttering, all encompassing silence and peace that comes with sexual release.

His heart was pounding and he was breathing harder than he normally would. He looked down to see her ass and back smattered with blood, the repair work he had done to his heavily injured left side was coming undone. He stuck the fingers of both his hands inside it, trying to stop the bleeding as he pulled out of Erica, sitting back on his heels on the couch where he had so wronged her. Severus couldn't fight the pain, he was doubling over, blood flowing through his fingers and out of his body. His breathing became more labored, 'I'm going to die here.' was the only thought that came to his mind.

It was only then, as the situation had reached its most desperate, that he felt an arm wrap around him, bringing him to his feet and pushing him in the direction of the side exit to the ballroom.

"Huh?" Was the only thing he could utter as she saw Erica's tiny naked body supporting his weight, pushing him with urgency toward freedom.

She was completely silent, nobody noticing what was going on. They slipped through the exit door, making their way as fast as possible up the stairs of the manor house and to his private chambers. Severus' vision was getting splotchy as they progressed through the hall, a neat trail of blood marking their path behind them. He wasn't sure he was going to make, didn't know what she was going to do. He'd lost track of where they were by now, could only look at the floor and slump over more, placing more weight on his surprisingly strong chambermaid. Then at some point there was nothing, the world was black, black and so surprisingly painless.

All Hermione could do was wait for a miracle, as she knelt by the body of her former Potions Master. Whatever had possessed her to drag him away from the revel, prop him up on the floor against his bed and see to it that he didn't expire from loss of blood she could not say. Only that she owed him one, despite her hatred and overall distaste for the man, she owed him a bit of humanity in a world that had none. The picture on his desk was gone, probably hidden by a cloaking charm. Her whole reason for ending up on the receiving end of his manhood, vanished into thin air.

She exhaled deeply, fingering the buttons of a white shirt she had pilfered from his wardrobe. Her hair had grown longer than she normally would have wanted it, with small curly tufts forming. This combined with all that had happened tonight, made her twitch with nervousness. He'd been injured severely, so much so that had she not done what she did when she did, he would have most certainly died. That had been the point of tonight afterall, she suspected. It was to punish him, yet he had lived. That was perhaps a punishment in and of itself, but Hermione could not bring herself to watch him die. Not like that. Not after what he had done for her.

Snape stirred then, coming back to consciousness as the blood replenishing potion she had given him had started to kick in. She pulled herself to him on her knees, straddling his outstretched legs, with his pants and underwear still settled precariously at his thighs. He was the absolute picture of near death, a semi healed wound on his left side, his shirt opened revealing his blood stained skin. His sable black hair was stuck with patches of blood and sweat either together or to different parts of his face. He looked like hell. He looked like a man who would have welcomed death, but had not had the luck to catch it. Still straddling his legs she brought her face to his, a hand on his cheek.

With great difficulty he raised a hand to her head, clasping her short hair and her head in his hand and looked at her. It was a look that tore her soul in two, so sad, so desperate, so lost, 'This is so fucked up!' her mind raged. She should feel nothing for this man but hate, nothing but joy at his demise. But she did not. Instead Hermione kissed him long and deep, because it was the only real thing that felt right. There was only a slight response from his own lips, she didn't know whether he lacked the strength or the will to return her tenderness.

When she pulled away she could see tears making trails through the smattering of blood on his face. Washing it away in tiny streaks one little bit at a time. She moved her face forward to kiss him again.

"No." He said as she neared. "No, no. Please."

She paid him no mind, kissing him firmer now and feeling his fingers grip her hair more firmly. Her hand went between them, gripping the beginnings of an erection. As she brought her head back again, she saw his lips start to move in protest. Placing a finger over his lips she whispered, "Just pretend I'm anybody. Anybody else but me."

At these words what had begun as a trickle of tears from Severus Snape's eyes, turned to torrents of tears rolling down his face. She smiled weakly, not knowing what he was thinking, knowing only that he hurt like she hurt. That he needed what she needed. She raised herself up slightly, placing his manhood at her entrance and began to impale herself upon him. He brought his other hand to her, gripping her body close, keeping her head next to his own.

'What kind of a fucked up world is this?' was the only thought that really stood out in Hermione's mind. He had been the only man she could think of during the revel when he had instructed her to imagine him as an old lover. She couldn't think of anybody else then nor could she think of anybody else now. 'Am I so deprived of human contact that I would choose my enemy over the thought of never having human contact again?' There was such a thin line between desire and hatred, Hermione wondered at which level of the scale this thing was that she was doing.

It just felt so good, feeling another human being inside of you. Snape was thick and long, he filled her to full completion. Some people needed only a pinch to know if they were real, a kick in the pants to make sure they were human. But she needed so much more than that. She'd spent so much time on survival, revenge and hating everything, that this, this was confirmation to her that she still had the capacity to feel human emotions. Despite all the things thrown at her, that she could process human thoughts and do human things...that she wasn't a monster. And after what she had witnessed tonight, he was not a monster either. He was made one by the Dark Lord.

He smelled so sweet through the blood and sweat that covered his body. Hermione could feel Severus moving his hips to her now, responding to her the best he could given his condition. She wondered only briefly if he was imagining her as the woman in his picture, or if he'd reached the conclusion that it didn't matter now? She was close, her hips moving erratically, her body yearning for a proper release. She could feel he was close too, so close they might both go over the edge at the same time. His body jerked, his fingers tightened in her hair and she came deep and throaty, long and with force. Hermione felt the aftershocks going through his body, releasing his seed as deep as he could inside her. She rested her head on his shoulder for several minutes, enjoying what she could.

"We'll almost certainly both be dead by this time tomorrow." She whispered in his ear, only now pulling back from her hunched position over him.

Severus let a finger linger on her cheek, then smiled. She'd never seen him smile before, it gave her an odd sense of intimacy with him that even sex had not provided.

"Yes." He responded, "But we still have one important thing left to do."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, not entirely sure what he meant. Surly he didn't have the same idea for tomorrow as she did? There was an awkward silence between them, one that would never be answered to her satisfaction.

"Now go to bed." He whispered to her, "We have an inspection of the Camp in the morning."