Hermione flinched as the door slammed behind her and turned to face the penetrating gaze of Severus Snape. For a moment, neither said a word. There was so much unsaid between them, so many lingering feelings. She had the distinct impression that they were both thinking the same thing: much had happened since the last time they had seen one another. Then she saw his face harden imperceptibly and she braced for impact.

"Thought you could get past me, Granger?" he said dangerously. His voice was full of threat. "Trying to help your pathetic friends?" Hermione couldn't breathe. All of her doubts and fears and ponderings from the last several months seemed to come crashing down all around her. Severus Snape was her enemy.

She found she could not respond to him as a painful lump had formed in her throat and it was taking all of her control to dam the flood of tears behind her eyes. "You are an intelligent girl," he began again. "You ought to know by now that you have no chance. Give up, Granger." She swallowed hard but didn't dare speak. "I don't want to see your sniveling!" he growled cruelly. "I expected more finesse from you, I must admit. To be caught by the Carrows… pathetic. Well, you've played right into my hand and now you'll never escape." She felt her eyes widen in fear. "What? You didn't think I'd let you run off to Precious Potter did you? No. He'll just have to do without you. After all, what use can you really be to him if you can't even keep from being caught?" A horrible feeling of overwhelming helplessness fell over her and she could no longer stem the flow of tears cascading down her cheeks.

As she turned away from him to hide her face, he gripped her upper arm tightly and dragged her though the lab to his bedroom. She knew a moment's horror to think what he would do to her there. He wouldn't. But Severus Snape did not shove her onto the bed the way she was imagining he would. Rather, he continued on toward his living room and threw her down on the couch.

"This will be your prison, Granger. This way, I will be sure you cannot escape." He left her alone then, slamming the door to his bedroom behind him. She did not bother to attempt escape, but rather sank back into the cushions and wept the misery of the past several months into his sofa.

Severus cast a Muffliato on his bedroom door and let out a roar of frustration. It killed him to see the girl in so much pain, especially knowing that he had been the cause of it. He kicked his bedframe with such force that the bed shifted on its axis. Luckily, the dragonhide boots protected his foot from the pain it should have caused. I deserve every ounce of pain.

Severus turned back to the door. A wave of helpless sadness fell over him, suddenly. On the other side of that door, Hermione Granger was crying, alone on his couch. All he wanted to do was go back in there and offer her comfort. He touched the palm of his hand to the door, as if it could convey some amount of sympathy to the girl. But he knew that it could not. She had hated him when she came back to the castle, but now she was his prisoner on top of everything else.

He withdrew from the door and went about preparing to sleep. It was unlikely that he would be able to rest tonight, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her in his quarters by herself—as if his presence in the next room could somehow make her feel less alone.

When he was finally lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn't so much as close his eyes. It would be so easy to go to her now. She was right there. He could tell her everything and just make sure she never escaped. But he couldn't. He was a pawn in this plan, too. He had no control over what happened in the future and he could not risk his position. Partially because he had very important information to convey to Potter when the time was right, but also because he found that for the first time in a long time, Severus Snape really wanted to survive this war—if only so that he could redeem himself in Hermione's eyes.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture the way she used to look at him, before. That fateful night, so many months ago, the very last time he had seen her, she had looked to him to save the day. She had had so much faith and admiration for him. If only he could find a way to make her feel that way about him once more. Tomorrow, he would plant some Occlumency books on the table and hope that she started to take up the art. That was how he had learned it, after all. And Hermione Granger was a brilliant witch. He had no doubt she would be able to master it soon enough.

Then, he would be able to tell her everything. And she would wrap her arms around him and cry into his chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, she would begin to run her hands up and down his back and he would pull her soft body against his, embracing her as if he never planned to let her go again. Then he would pull back just enough to look into her eyes and convey to her the feelings he had. She would smile softly and wrap her arms around his neck as his head came down to hers. And he would kiss her, brushing his lips against hers, then capturing them as if some magnetic force held them together.

Severus groaned. The thought that she was on the other side of that door made him ache with need. He wanted her with every cell in his body. But it seemed so perverse and wrong to touch himself with her right there, especially considering her state of turmoil. But she is safe, he reminded himself. That had been the point. She could not get hurt if she was captive here. He would protect her. And some day, when the war was over, and she knew the truth, he would make it all up to her.

He knew that for all his fantasizing, merely trusting him again would not bring Hermione Granger into his arms. She deserved so much better and he was not fool enough to believe she could ever want him. But he couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering back to that remote possibility with all of the hope he had never known he had. Until she came into my life.

Refusing to pleasure himself while Hermione was in pain, Severus slipped back into the bathroom for a cold shower before resigning himself to another sleepless night brewing in his lab.

Dark eyes. Penetrating stare.

Dragonhide boots and the smell of potions ingredients.

His scent.

A hand in her hair, tight, causing painful little prickles at her scalp.

He throws her away to land against the cushion of his mattress. Before she can escape, he is there beside her, on top of her, underneath her. It is a ruse, she knows, he has to pretend. The Carrows cannot know.

But this, this, is more than a cover. And he knows that she knows. Still, he presses her hard into the mattress, kissing her violently. She can feel his need. The Carrows are forgotten.

Fire burns all around them as he moves against her. She is not supposed to react this way.

But she does.

She has waited far too long for him to come to her. But now, she is falling apart in his arms. Her existence is verified because he is holding her close, breathing into her ear.

Hot breath.

Their mouths are connected with sweet passion equal to the act itself. She moves beneath him, telling him without words that she wants this too. He does not have to say that he doesn't want to hurt her. She knows he never would.

She trusts him.

And as the mounting pressure between them builds to an eruption of pleasure, the fires explode around them, consuming them.

And they are one in the fire.

And nothing else matters.

Hermione woke with a start, unable to catch her breath. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. For another moment, she couldn't register that it had all been a dream.

More like another world.

But reality came crashing back and she found herself sitting up, alone, on Snape's couch. She was his prisoner. And she was completely under his control. Her body began to shake with soul-wrenching sobs.

She could do nothing.

Whatcha think? :}