A/N: Here it is, a triple-decker chapter. If I could have divided it somehow, and made it into two or three chapters, I would have done it—but it's all of one piece. Enjoy, and review 3 chapters worth! ;)

For the Potions Master's Amusement

Chapter 44: Introductions

Hermione passed into the house, closely followed by Taffy and Hadrian Hunter. The foyer was large and imposing, with marble floors and blindingly white walls. The ceiling bore an elaborate gilded fresco depicting Merlin at the crowning of King Arthur. Staircases curved gracefully down from the first floor gallery, upon which a debutante might stand to be introduced at the inauguration of her first society season. Taffy came alongside Hermione and took her hand, leading her through an elaborate arch and down a few steps into another marble floored hall; on either side were double-doored entrances to receiving rooms decorated in formal style, all jewel-toned velvets and brocade upon priceless Axminster carpets.

'These are our reception rooms,' Hadrian said, drawing up on Hermione's other side. The hallway was wide enough to drive the Knight Bus down the middle without scarring the walls, so they walked three abreast with no crowding. 'We seldom use them, other than for parties.'

Hermione glanced at him. 'Do you entertain often?'

He smiled. 'We tend to have gatherings twice a month or so,' he said. 'Of course, the dungeons are below.'

Hermione was startled by this pronouncement, but she didn't care to ask for elaboration. Why would this posh old Muggle house have a dungeon?

Taffy saw her expression and laughed softly. 'A dungeon is a playroom,' she explained. 'It's usually equipped with bondage and discipline implements—chains, shackles, crosses, stocks, whips, floggers, clamps—those sorts of things.'

'I see,' Hermione murmured. Remembering her own experiences with such things brought a sudden, piercing ache to her chest. She missed her Master so fiercely that it hurt to breathe.

They reached the end of the cold, formal hallway and reached a set of blue painted doors with white enamel panels.

'This is the part of the house in which we actually live,' Hadrian said, and he opened both doors with a bit of a flourish, entering first and speaking as he crossed the threshold. 'I've brought them,' he said cheerfully.

The room was large and bright, lit by a massive chandelier of hundreds of candles and warmed by a roaring fire in the fireplace. The furniture here consisted of squashy couches, armchairs, and poufs, upholstered in chintz, with colourful cushions spread about. There were a few people seated together near the fire, a tea service between them. All faces were raised at Hadrian's announcement, and Hermione had a quick impression of welcoming smiles.

Detaching herself from the edge of the group, a silver-haired witch rolled toward them in a moving chair. It was similar to a Muggle electric wheelchair, but Hermione recognised it from her one visit to St Mungo's Hospital—it was an air chair, and it moved according to the will of its occupant. Stopping right in front of the girls, the witch smiled at them. She wore russet coloured robes over golden silk pyjamas, and upon her feet were ballet slippers of the softest tan leather. Hermione could see that the woman's legs were wasted in the too-large pyjama bottoms. Taffy bent to kiss the woman's carefully made-up face, and Hadrian made the introductions.

'Hermione, I'd like for you to meet my wife, Elinore.'

Hermione accepted the delicate, manicured hand which was extended to her. 'How do you do, Hermione?' Elinore said warmly. 'We love Severus, you know, and even though we've just met you, you are very welcome here.'

Hermione looked into the brown eyes of the older witch and knew she was sincere. 'Thank you,' Hermione said in a small voice. 'You're very kind.'

The others had stood and approached, and they now stood gathered around Elinore's chair. A middle-aged wizard with blond hair, touched at the temples with white, extended his hand to Hermione.

'I'm Master Claudius,' he said in clipped tones.

Hermione shook his hand, noting the lack of warmth in the man's eyes. 'Hello,' she said, briefly clasping his hand.

Master Claudius turned to exchange a polite greeting with Taffy, and two witches stepped forward. One was fair, with long blond hair, and the other was dark, with a cap of shining black hair and grey eyes. The fair witch wore a gold collar set with a large centre diamond. 'I am Master Claudius' alpha slave,' she said in a colourless tone. 'I'm called Vi—short for Violet.'

Vi hadn't offered her hand, so Hermione simply smiled and said, 'Hi.'

The dark-haired girl, who appeared to be only a few years older than Hermione, spoke next. 'I'm Kelly—call me Kell. I'm in training with Master Claudius and Mistress Vi.'

Hermione couldn't help smiling at Kell; the other girl's personality was ebullient, and she exuded friendliness. Her eyes were a bright blue, and she wore a red patent leather collar, which Hermione thought was rather garish—but Kell was obviously very proud of it, as she ought to be. 'Hi, Kell,' Hermione said, feeling infinitesimally more cheerful.

'Hadrian,' Elinore said, 'why don't you have your tea, and I'll show Hermione to her room, so she can get settled in.'

Taffy elected to have tea with the others, so Hermione found herself accompanying Elinore Hunter through the door at the other end of the room and down a dark panelled hallway to a staircase. 'Most of the bedrooms are on the first floor,' Elinore said as her chair levitated and began to float up the staircase, just ahead of Hermione. 'The suites—apartments with kitchens and sitting rooms—are on the second floor. We have the Claudius family and Reginald Bardulph in residence now, but we expect some friends in this weekend for a casual get-together.'

Elinore turned left at the first floor landing, and Hermione followed her down the quiet hallway to the fourth door on the left. Elinore reached out her hand, and the door obediently swung open. 'Please,' she said, 'I hope you'll feel very much at home.'

Hermione entered the room, noting the warm fire in the grate with gratitude; as was common with old houses, there were a great many draughts. The room was inviting, with a loveseat and two armchairs arranged about the fireplace, behind which was a large mahogany sleigh bed, covered in a forest green duvet. A tall bookshelf was crammed with leather-bound books. The wardrobe in the corner was quite large, and a half-opened door led to an ensuite bathroom, complete with an old claw-foot bathtub. Hermione's trunk and Crookshanks' basket were at the foot of the bed, and Crooks had already made himself at home on the hearthrug, before the crackling fire.

'This is Severus' room at Roissy House,' Elinore said, stroking a hand down the spine of a brown leather book on the shelf. 'He isn't with us very often, but I like to keep his room ready for him.'

Hermione opened the wardrobe door, curious, and a fragrant puff of air greeted her, smelling of cedar … and of her professor's aftershave. 'Oh!' she breathed, forgetting she was not alone, and she buried her face in the black robes hanging from the wardrobe rail.

A few moments later, Elinore had detached her from the black fabric redolent of Professor Snape and had persuaded her to sit in an armchair near the fire. Hermione dried her face with the handkerchief Elinore had thoughtfully provided, and the older witch sat very close, patting Hermione comfortingly on the arm.

'What an upset you've been through!' she said bracingly. 'Your Dominant gone away without warning, school closing, coming away to stay with strangers—it would be enough to unhinge most girls.'

Hermione swallowed and blew her nose. She hated crying in front of this woman, who seemed very kind but was nevertheless a stranger. Everything was so odd and unfamiliar—and then to smell her professor's particular scent coming from the wardrobe…. Even so, she needed to get a grip.

'I'll be fine,' she said, trying to sound definite.

Elinore patted her arm again and said in a carrying voice, 'Pitty!'

Hermione scarcely had time to wonder what Elinore meant before a rather scrawny house-elf appeared in the room. The creature wore a royal blue tea towel, embroidered with Pitty in white thread.

'This is Miss Hermione Granger, Pitty,' Elinore said. 'She is Master Severus' girl, and she'll be staying with us. You'll look after her.'

Hermione felt a warm glow from being identified as 'Master Severus' girl', and the house-elf bowed to her deeply.

'Pitty is proud to serve Miss,' she proclaimed in a squeaky voice.

'Bring Miss a sandwich and some tea,' Elinore instructed Pitty.

Pitty popped out of the room, and Hermione turned to Elinore. 'Have you known Professor Snape for very long?' she asked, simply wanting to hear more about him.

'I've known him since he was your age,' Elinore informed her with a smile. 'He spent the summer after he left school in training with Hadrian and me.' Elinore leaned forward slightly, taking from the bookshelf a framed photograph which Hermione had not previously noticed. 'This was taken then,' Elinore said, extending the frame to Hermione.

Hermione took the photograph eagerly, her eyes seeking out Professor Snape. He stood in the middle of the grouping, taller than either of his companions, an expression approaching a smile upon his face. His hair was much shorter than he wore it now, leaving more of his face visible. He was thin and gangly, his Adam's apple prominent, his wrists bony, his hands seeming too large for his body. There was an almost imperceptible aura of happiness about him as he stood between Hadrian and Elinore Hunter. Hadrian's hair had been a rich auburn, his posture straighter, as he held the boy at his side close to him with a proprietary hand upon his shoulder. Elinore's hair had been a deep ash brown, flowing down almost to her waist; she had been quite petite, shorter in stature than Hermione was, and in the picture, she stood with both arms wrapped about young Severus Snape's waist, her face tilted adoringly up to his. Picture Snape looked from Elinore to Hadrian and back to the camera; Elinore would throw a sly smile to the camera before returning her eyes to the face of the boy; Hadrian smiled proudly at his companions before turning back to the camera, waving with his free hand.

Hermione stared, trying to find in the face of the boy some trace of the austere, controlled man she knew. He seemed completely at ease with the Hunters, one arm about Hadrian's shoulders, the other curving down to Elinore's waist. Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy as picture Snape soaked up the affection of his companions, a slightly cocky swagger evident in his bearing.

'He was … in training with you?' she echoed stupidly, wanting more information but hesitant to ask for it, lest she seem rude.

Elinore nodded. 'Hadrian knew immediately that Severus had the makings of an excellent Dominant, but his … interpersonal skills were lacking.' She smiled at Hermione's minute nod. 'Yes, he still struggles in that area,' Elinore said dryly. 'Severus' home life had not given him much experience of receiving and returning affection in a respectful and caring way. Hadrian felt that a summer of servitude would give Severus a crash course in what it meant to be submissive.'

Her eyes took on a meditative look, and several seconds passed. Hermione watched the older witch, her brain seething. Her Master had been trained as a submissive? What did that even mean? Had he had sex with Hadrian Hunter? Was he bisexual? Or had Elinore dominated him?

'Ma'am,' she said diffidently, 'could you explain more to me about that? About how he was … trained?'

Elinore turned back with a smile. 'Forgive me, Hermione; I forgot that you're a novice in the lifestyle.' She tilted her head to one side. 'Not all Dominant men go through formal training, but in my opinion, the best ones do. Most of the training has to do with self-discipline, self-denial, psychological domination, and instruction regarding the psychology of the submissive personality.' She cupped her hands together before her heart. 'We submissives give our hearts and souls to the Master whom we serve—it is imperative that the Master understand the internal motivations, wants, and needs of the submissive who trusts him with the essence of her very being.'

Hermione's lips parted, and she leaned forward impulsively. 'You said it perfectly!' she said. 'That's how I am with him—exactly how I feel.'

Elinore smiled tenderly. 'Of course it is,' she said, patting Hermione's cheek. 'And I know for a fact that Severus is an intuitive, gifted, and skilled Dominant—his training methods are exemplary. He will prepare you for a life of happy submission with some lucky Master, my dear.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I don't want some other Master,' she said. 'I only want him—I'll always want him.'

Elinore clasped her hand, her face a mask of compassion. 'I understand the way you feel,' the older witch assured her. 'But Severus has always placed the girls he's trained with other Dominants.'

Pitty popped back into the room with a tray, placing it on a table before bustling forward with a napkin, which she spread over Hermione's lap. Elinore turned away, and the magic chair began to float toward the door. 'You enjoy your tea,' she commanded kindly, 'and have a bath and a nap. Dinner is at six. Taffy will come for you and show you where the dining room is.'

With a stormy expression on her face, Hermione watched the silver-haired woman go. She wanted to argue that her Master had already chosen her—she wore his collar, didn't she?—but her bare throat made that rather difficult to argue. Confused and still unsettled, she dutifully ate her roast beef sandwich and drank her tea before lying down on the sleigh bed and having a long nap.


Taffy came to find her at half-five, dressed in a white gown reminiscent of a Grecian goddess, and advised her on what to wear to dinner.

'We usually dress for dinner at Roissy,' she said rather unnecessarily. 'Do you have anything dressy?'

Hermione produced dress robes and frowned at them.

'Oh dear,' Taffy said, looking at the navy blue serge.

'I have this,' Hermione said, dropping the serge robes and pulling out her dress from the Yule Ball. It seemed so long ago, but it had been less than a month since the night she had worn this dress and driven her Master to grope her in a grotto.

'Pretty,' Taffy said, admiring the bronze evening dress.

Hermione scrambled into it and allowed Taffy to coil her hair into an up-do. When she rose from the dressing table to leave the room, she walked across the floor with her head high, knowing that she looked her best. Her legs were revealed to mid-thigh in their silky stockings with each step she took, and she felt good.

Taffy stopped her at the door. 'My husband loves to show me off when we go out together,' she said, her eyes on the split skirt of Hermione's overdress, 'but when he's away from me, he likes for me to dress much more conservatively.' She indicted the pretty but demure cut of her evening dress. 'Would Severus want you to go among other Dominants without him, wearing a dress that shows off your legs like that?'

Hermione looked down at the overdress. 'Probably not,' she admitted. 'He's never said so, precisely …'

'But it's better to err on the side of caution,' Taffy finished for her, and both girls laughed.

With a frown of concentration and a wave of her wand, Taffy sealed the split in the skirt, and the two went down together to dinner.

'We'll be in the family dining room tonight,' Taffy explained, leading Hermione downstairs. 'We have a much larger one we use when we have a party.'

The family dining room was an elegant chamber, brightly lit with candles and furnished with a long mahogany table. The others Hermione had met that afternoon were already seated, and there was one additional man, who rose when Hermione and Taffy entered.

'Hullo, Reg,' Taffy said, allowing the handsome man with short, curly brown hair to kiss her cheek. 'This is Hermione,' she added, turning to give Hermione a reassuring smile. 'Hermione, this is Reggie Bardulph.'

Hermione had the impression that Reggie was eyeing her up, even though his frank hazel eyes never left her face. 'Charmed, Hermione,' he said, inclining his head respectfully, but making no move to touch her. 'So, you're training with Severus, are you?'

Taffy urged Hermione along the table and indicated where she should sit. Hermione slipped into her place, sitting between Kelly and Taffy, and didn't answer Reggie's question. After all, it was obvious, wasn't it? Everyone here knew she was Professor Snape's girl, and she had no problem with being thus labelled. She was a girl, he was her first serious love affair, and she was tingling with pride to be recognised as his.

Dinner was quite good, for a slightly more sophisticated palate than the fare at Hogwarts. She allowed the conversation to swirl around her without attempting to participate, and few remarks were directed to her. She found herself thinking with longing of Hogwarts, where she had lived the best part of the last seven years, and for the first time, she missed Harry and Ron. Where were her best friends, in the wide, dangerous world? What were they eating? Were they warm enough? Were they safe? And couldn't she wonder the very same things about her Master? Truth to tell, the three people whom she loved the most in the world were Merlin-knew-where, and Hermione felt completely useless to them all. With a sudden plunge of mood, sadness filled her, and she pushed her crème brulée away after only a few bites. She couldn't eat rich puddings when her dear ones might not have enough to eat—it was just wrong.

'Are you all right?'

Hermione glanced over to Kell, who was leaning toward her and speaking sotto voce.

'Fine,' she said, feeling a lump rise in her throat even as she spoke.

'I expect you're missing him,' Kell said sympathetically.

'Do you know him?' Hermione asked, her voice rough in spite of her efforts to control her emotions.

'I've not met him,' Kell admitted, 'but I know he's on the Board of Directors for Roissy House. And there are pictures of him in the Hunters' suite.' Discreetly, Kell Transfigured her linen napkin to a handkerchief and passed it to Hermione beneath the table. 'I expect you're fond of him,' she said.

The odd comment startled a choked chuckle from Hermione, drawing a smiling glance from Hadrian, who then continued his conversation with Master Claudius.

'Aren't you fond of … yours?' Hermione asked, wiping at her cheeks. Sweet Circe, when had she become such a watering pot? She had cried more since becoming entangled with Severus Snape than she had cried in the whole rest of her adolescence.

Kell gave a tiny shake of her head. 'I'm respectful,' she said. 'I'm thankful to have someone willing to train me.' She gave a twisted smile. 'I'm a bit of a problem case,' she admitted.

Before Hermione could inquire further, people began to rise from the table. Elinore and Vi left the room together, each on the way to her own suite, and the three men removed to the Dominants' Study. That left Kell, Taffy, and Hermione to move into the sitting room. When they were sitting together on the sofa nearest the fire, Hermione asked the question on the tip of her tongue.

'How are you a problem case, Kell?' she asked.

Kell made a rueful face. 'I've been released from training by two Masters already,' she admitted.

'Heavens!' Taffy said, her blue eyes wide.

From Taffy's reaction, Hermione knew this was unusual, but she couldn't tell if Taffy was impressed or horrified.

'Yeah,' Kell said. 'If Hadrian hadn't intervened on my behalf, they might have put me out of the community.'

'But why?' Taffy asked, aghast. 'I've never heard of such a thing before!'

Kell shrugged, and Hermione could tell the other girl was embarrassed. 'I'm a brat,' Kell admitted. 'Even when my Dominant has told me I'm absolutely, under no circumstances, not to do something, I can't seem to help myself.'

Hermione frowned. 'But surely every submissive in training does that at some time or another?' she said.

'They do,' Taffy said, watching Kell with speculative eyes, 'but eventually, the Dominant draws a line that you cannot cross and still claim to be submissive.'

Kell nodded solemnly. 'Yep,' she said. 'And I pushed two Dominants to dismiss me from training.'

Hermione felt a thump of sympathy. 'Were you … fond of either of them?'

Kell's lips pressed together and suddenly, tears were sparkling on her dark lashes. 'Yeah, I was,' she said.

Hermione felt that any further questions would be intrusive, so she kept quiet, and the three submissives sat in silence, each lost in thought about the Dominant wizards they loved. Finally, Kell swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and sat forward, turning to the other two girls with an expression of determined cheerfulness. 'So, when I was released the second time, Hadrian offered to place me with a Master. He made it clear to me that it was my absolute last chance, and that if I blew it again, I was out. Master Claudius and Mistress Vi agreed to take me on, and so far, it's working really well.' She wrinkled her nose. 'We spend loads of time on self-discipline and self-denial.' She sighed so theatrically that Hermione could only laugh.

'You must really, really want to be a submissive,' she said.

Kell turned to her with a completely sober look on her frequently animated face. 'With all my heart and soul and mind,' she admitted, and Taffy reached to take her hand sympathetically.

'Is Vi really a Dominant?' Hermione asked curiously.

'No,' Taffy answered, releasing Kell's hand and settling back against the sofa cushions again. 'I've known Claudius and Vi since I first came here. Vi is as submissive as I am—but it's not uncommon for a D/s couple to take on a submissive for training. The collared submissive has authority over the trainee, but she isn't, by nature, a Dominant person.'

The sitting room door opened, and Reggie Bardulph strolled in, a lit cigar in his hand.

'Put that thing out, Reg!' Taffy scolded. 'You know Elinore doesn't permit smoking outside the Dominant's Study!'

Reg made a face at Taffy and tossed the cigar into the fire. 'Hadrian and Claudius are playing Wizard's Chess, and you know how brutal Claudius' chess men are—it's a bloody battlefield in there.'

Suddenly, Kell stood, drawing everyone's attention. Hermione noticed that her cheeks were flushed, but she didn't meet anyone's eye. 'I'm off to bed,' she said hurriedly. 'Good night!'

Hermione watched her go with some concern, but Reggie laughed. 'Claudius won't permit her to be in a room with me unless he's present,' he said lazily.

'Honestly, Reg,' Taffy said indignantly. 'Why did you come in, then?'

'Because I'm not nice to bratty subs,' he said, seating himself in an armchair across from their sofa and stretching his legs out before him. 'Besides, I want to catch up with you, old thing,' he added with an undeniably charming smile at Taffy. 'I haven't seen you in forever. How have you been?'

'I've been separated from my husband and living in hiding,' Taffy answered tartly. 'How do you think I've been?'

Hermione paid scarce attention to Taffy and Reggie as they bantered. The wine she had drunk at dinner was now making her terribly sleepy, but she couldn't make herself stir from this warm place before the fire.

'Come along to your bed, sleepyhead,' Taffy's voice said, and Hermione startled awake.

'Sorry,' she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

'It's no wonder,' Taffy reassured her. 'It's been a difficult few days for you.' She stood and Hermione followed suit.

'Good night, fair damsels,' Reggie said, standing and giving an exaggerated bow. Hermione nodded to him, and he spoke again. 'Perhaps we'll have time to get acquainted on another occasion, Hermione,' he said.

Hermione followed obediently in Taffy's wake, wanting nothing but her bed.


Morning brought Pitty and a tray of tea and toast. On the tray was a letter written on rose-coloured parchment in gold ink. Curious, she broke the seal on the letter and began to read as she sipped her tea.

Dear Hermione,

Jacquie and I will be in London today for a bit of shopping, and we wanted to come by and welcome you to the community. We share with you the distinction of being the only students Professor Snape ever mentored into the lifestyle. If it will be convenient for you, we'll drop by your room for tea at around three o'clock this afternoon.

In Anticipation,

Diana and Jacqueline

Hermione replaced her teacup on the tray and picked up a piece of buttered toast. So, she was going to meet the two submissives Professor Snape had mentored before her at Hogwarts? How strange that they shopped together and paid visits together! Would she, then, become a member of their club—would she one day be accompanying them to visit the professors next 'girl'?

She pushed the tray aside and stood. She couldn't bear to think such thoughts. Opening the wardrobe, she took her professor's robes from the rail and buried her nose in them, permitting herself to stand, rocking gently to and fro and breathing his essence until Taffy came by to invite her down to breakfast.


Taffy went shopping with Vi after breakfast, and Hermione and Kell were the only ones who came to the dining room for lunch that day. Over steaming bowls of onion soup, accompanied by thick slabs of fresh baked bread, Kell and Hermione chatted.

'Oh, I know who you are,' Kell said. 'You're Harry Potter's friend—you were always getting into scrapes with him, weren't you?'

Hermione shrugged, and Kell laughed.

'My parents sent me to school in France—I was in Fleur Delacour's year—but not nearly good enough to make the short list for the Triwizard Tournament. Still, we kept up with all the goings-on over here.'

Hermione drank from her pumpkin juice, then she asked hesitantly, 'Kell, do you know Jacqueline and Diana?'

Kell nodded. 'I've met them, sure—we're a small community, really, when you get right down to it. They were trained by Master Severus too, weren't they?'

'Yes,' Hermione admitted, wishing she felt more confident about the meeting to come. 'They'll be here for tea in my room this afternoon.'

Kell took a final drink of milk and stood, grabbing a large apple from the bowl on the sideboard. 'Well, I have a three-thousand word essay due tonight, and I've only managed five hundred words, so far,' she said with a grimace. 'Enjoy your tea party!'

Hermione smiled, feeling a remote ache for her journal, in which she had written her assignments for her professor's reading pleasure. 'Thanks, and good luck with your essay,' she called to Kell's retreating back. Then she wiped her mouth and set off in search of Pitty to order a tea service for three.


At three o'clock, she opened the door of her room and stepped back to allow her visitors to enter.

'Hi!' they said in unison, and Hermione was treated to the sight of her professor's first two student submissives.

They were so alike that they might have been sisters. In their stiletto-heeled green dragon-hide boots, they stood as tall as Professor Snape; Hermione estimated their height in their stocking feet at no less than five feet ten inches. They were redheads, with shining straight hair hanging to their shoulder blades. One of them had hazel eyes and the other had blue eyes, or Hermione might never have been able to tell them apart. They were both pretty without being beautiful, slender, small-breasted and slim-hipped. And each of them wore about her throat a platinum band edged with tiny diamonds.

They hadn't even introduced themselves, and already, Hermione was having to fight the impulse to hate them.

The visitors set their carrier bags down and removed their coats and gloves, each of them looking Hermione over as if she were on the auction block.

The blue-eyed one stepped forward and held out her hand. 'I'm Jacquie,' she said. 'How do you do?'

The hazel-eyed one came up impulsively. 'I'm Diana, but it's silly to stand on ceremony—we have Severus in common!' And she enveloped Hermione in a hug redolent of expensive perfume.

Tactfully disentangling herself from Diana, she indicated the tea tray on the table before the loveseat. 'Do you take milk and sugar?' she asked politely.

When they were all settled with their tea and scones—the redheads side-by-side on the loveseat and Hermione in an armchair—the questioning began.

'How on earth did you get started with him?' Jacquie asked avidly, her blue eyes sparkling. 'He's so hard to … entice,' she added with a sly look at Diana.

Diana gurgled laughter. 'I don't know if we would ever have known about him—or about ourselves—if he hadn't caught us in the Prefects' Bath that night.'

'Caught you?' Hermione said, finding herself, against her will, to be quite charmed by her visitors.

'Yes,' Diana said. 'I was sitting on the edge of the pool and Jacquie was in the water, eating me out.'

Hermione stilled in shock, her eyes darting from one girl to the other.

'She had her hands in my hair and was moaning louder than Myrtle when he swept into the bathroom and ordered us out of the pool.' Jacquie took a bite of her scone.

'But—but what was he doing in the Prefects' Bathroom?' Hermione asked indignantly, thinking of all the times she had been in there.

'Well,' Diana said, 'we weren't prefects, you see—and he'd caught us trying to get in there one night and given us both detention for it.'

'It was rather embarrassing, but I didn't care,' Jacquie added. 'He was magnificent—so commanding!—I scrambled out of the water and fell to my knees at his feet.'

Diana laughed heartily. 'And I was too shocked to be able to think, so I just copied Jacquie. There we were, naked and wet, kneeling at his feet.'

Hermione was riveted. 'What did he do?'

Jacquie smirked. 'Nothing good,' she said dryly. 'Ordered us to his office the next day and stormed off.'

'But …' Hermione gave her head a small shake. 'If you were already a couple …'

Diana leaned forward and poured more tea. 'If we were a couple already, what did we need with him?' she said, putting Hermione's thought into words.

Hermione nodded mutely, her tea forgotten.

'We're bi,' Jacquie said airily. 'And if we hadn't knelt for him, I don't think it would have occurred to him to—'

'Because he'd never mentored a student before,' Diana interrupted.

Jacquie nodded sombrely. 'It was a real struggle for him,' she said. 'He was torn between his duties as a teacher and as a Dominant, but he decided if someone didn't take us in hand we'd run completely wild.'

Diana grinned. 'He was right, of course.'

Hermione took up the teapot and refilled their cups, completing the hostessing duties automatically while her mind whirled with all the new information. These women were gorgeous—taller, thinner, prettier, naughtier—how in the world could she ever hope to satisfy Professor Snape when he had experienced D/s with bisexual goddesses?

'So,' Diana said, 'we're doing all the talking—and we will, if you don't stop us—but we want to hear about you.' She smiled engagingly. 'How did you start with him?'

Hermione tucked a hank of bushy hair behind her ear. 'He knocked me to the floor and pinned me there,' she said, staring at the slightly frayed cuff of her robes, feeling like a duck amongst swans. 'Then he realised it was me and let me up and said scathing things to me. I had been trying to get his approval for years. He challenged me to stand in one spot all night without moving, and I did it.'

Neither of her auditors spoke, and she looked up to find them staring at her, their mouths slightly agape in matching ovals.

'Then what happened?' Diana finally asked.

'He ignored me completely for three weeks,' Hermione said.

'Sounds just like him,' Jacquie muttered darkly.

'So I exploded my cauldron in Potions class.'

'You didn't!' Diana gasped. She turned to Jacquie, and the two of them burst out laughing.

Hermione grinned uncertainly. 'Yes, I did,' she said. 'So he ordered me into his office and demanded to know why.'

'What did you tell him?' Diana asked.

'That I did it to get his attention,' Hermione said, remembering how he had responded to that.

'Look at her face!' Jacquie said to her partner. 'Oh my God, he did it to you then, didn't he?'

Hermione flushed. 'He invited me into his study and spanked me.'

Diana had abandoned her tea cup and was fanning herself with a serviette from the tray. 'And?' she asked.

Hermione looked down. 'Yes,' she said, 'and.'

The other girls sagged back against the loveseat cushions. 'Damn,' Jacquie said, 'that's hot.'

Diana had another thought. 'Hermione,' she said, 'has he kissed you—on the mouth, I mean?'

'Yes,' Hermione admitted.

Diana jabbed her friend with an elbow. 'See? I told you!'

Jacquie sat forward. 'He never kissed either of us,' she said. 'He watched us kiss each other plenty of times …'

'While he wanked,' Diana said smugly.

'But that wasn't until later,' Jacquie pointed out. 'That wasn't until just before we left school—for months and months and months we weren't even sure if he had a cock.'

'Oh, we knew he did,' Diana objected. 'The monster tented his trousers often enough.'

She and Jacquie chuckled reminiscently, and Hermione looked between them, amazed. He hadn't kissed them?

'Did he ever … take you to bed with him?' she asked, skirting around the issue.

'You mean fuck us?' Jacquie said. 'Good God, no.'

'No matter how much we begged,' Diana added gloomily. 'He said it would be inappropriate.'

Hermione flushed and busied herself with pouring another cup of tea, but her visitors were not fooled.

'Oh my God,' Diana said. 'He's fucking you, isn't he?'

Hermione didn't answer her. She took a sip of the tea, just for something to do. It occurred to her that she ought not to be speaking to these women about her Master. Oh, why hadn't she thought about it?

'Hermione,' Jacquie said, and she crossed to the armchair, kneeling down so she could look up into Hermione's averted face. 'You know about subbies, right? We're all sisters—especially if we've served the same Dom. We would never do or say anything to get you in trouble.'

Diana was on her other side now. 'We won't gossip about you and Severus,' she promised. 'It just took us by surprise—he never unbent with us, not until the very end, and that was just a couple of times.'

Hermione swallowed and nodded, not knowing what to say.

'He's so restrained,' Jacquie said. 'We used to wonder what it would be like if he ever let go.'

Hermione closed her eyes, but she couldn't prevent the smile which touched her lips. 'It's like an earthquake inside a typhoon, wrapped in a tidal wave,' she said.

There was movement on either side of her and kisses were pressed to each cheek. 'Good for you,' Diana said. 'He needs someone to unbend with—I'm glad he's doing it with you.'

Hermione opened her eyes and raised her face, feeling better about things, now. He had never kissed them—never taken them to his bed—never put his cock in their cunts—he belonged to her in ways they had never had him. She held the knowledge to herself like a mantle of assurance.

'So, after you left school, you found your Masters?' she asked them.

'Our Master—singular,' Diana corrected her. 'Master Robert is wonderful.'

Jacquie reached for her hand, and Diana laced her fingers with those of her friend and lover. 'He understands us completely,' she said. 'We're all very happy together.'

Diana said, 'Severus found him for us. He came to London and spent a couple of months that summer vetting candidates—'

Jacquie interrupted, 'And keeping a very stern watch over us, making sure we behaved ourselves here, at Roissy House.'

Diana leaned toward Hermione, a smile on her carefully coloured lips. 'He'll do the same for you, Hermione,' she assured her.

Hermione glanced away from them, feeling that she was, indeed, extremely weary of people telling her what her Master thought and felt and what he would do. Did they honestly believe, all these people, that they knew him better than his own submissive did?

'Uh oh,' Jacquie said. 'You haven't got too attached to him, have you?'

'No,' Hermione replied shortly, still not meeting their eyes.

'Oh, honey,' Diana said. 'You're not in love with him?'

Hermione's chin rose, and she turned blazing brown eyes on the other women. 'What if I am?' she said dangerously. 'Whose business is it but mine?'

Jacquie looked thoughtful. 'Well, what has he told you about when you leave school?'

Hermione flipped her hair behind her shoulders. 'He used to say he would write me a letter of introduction to the D/s community in London,' she said.

'Used to say?' Diana queried. 'Does he say something different now?'

Hermione stood jerkily and began to pace. 'He collared me.'

Diana gasped, but Jacquie said, 'You're not wearing a collar.'

Hermione's fingers strayed to her throat, and in a flash, tears were running down her cheeks. 'I know!' she sobbed. 'I kept it on a peg in his study—and he went off, and the rooms sealed themselves, and I couldn't get to my collar or my journal!'

She was wrapped up in comforting arms, her hair stroked, her back patted, her cheeks dried, and soothing words were murmured into her ears. 'Don't fret … I'm sure you'll get your collar back … He'll come for you soon …'

When Hermione was calm, the carriage clock on the mantel chimed five o'clock. 'We have to fly,' Diana said, beginning to pull on her coat. 'Promise me that if we can do anything for you, you'll let us know.'

Hermione walked them to the door, and Jacquie turned at the last moment, resting fingertips on Hermione's bare throat. 'Don't tell anyone until you have your collar and can wear it,' she cautioned. 'Severus hasn't told anyone, because Hadrian and Elinore don't know, and he would have told them if he told anyone.' She gave Hermione a one-armed hug. 'I just don't want someone to call you a liar to your face—everyone knows Severus has always sworn he would never collar a submissive until he was ready to retire from teaching.'

'I won't tell anyone,' Hermione promised, and she stood in the doorway watching her visitors until they turned to climb downstairs and were lost to her sight.


Hermione was deeply rattled by her conversation with Diana and Jacquie. She was torn between feeling glad that her relationship with the professor was more intimate than the one he had shared with his first two submissives and feeling inadequate in comparison to their beauty and savoir faire.

She was too unsettled to face the others at dinner, so she sent notes via Pitty to Taffy and Elinore, saying she wasn't hungry. She was curled up on the loveseat with a book from her professor's shelves when there was a knock at her door.

'Come in,' she invited.

The door opened and Elinore's chair floated in. 'How are you feeling, my dear?' the older witch asked kindly.

'Fine, thanks,' Hermione answered awkwardly.

'I wish you would come to the sitting room for a few minutes,' Elinore said coaxingly.

Hermione set her book to one side. She didn't want to go down, but how could she say no? She was a guest here, after all.

'All right,' she said.

Elinore smiled. 'Thank you!' she said, and her chair revolved in the air to lead the way downstairs.

Hermione couldn't miss the air of anticipation among the inhabitants of the sitting room. She looked from one face to the next, and everyone seemed to be darting frequent glances to the clock and the door. The only person unaffected by it all was Taffy, who stared moodily into the fire, lost in her own thoughts.

Hermione crossed the room and sat down beside Taffy, nodding politely to the greetings she received from the others. Kell slanted a wink at her from her place on the floor at Master Claudius' feet. There was little conversation, and Hermione wondered why Elinore had insisted she come down.

She picked up a copy of Witch Weekly from a table and began to leaf through it, shaking her head at the article titles. She frowned, trying to read "How to Keep Your Wizard in Stitches", which was accompanied by a wizarding photograph of a handsome man laughing uproariously. She was only in the second paragraph when there was a clatter in the hallway and the double doors were thrown open.

A man entered precipitously and paused just inside the door to look about the room. He was quite tall—taller even than Professor Snape—with wavy dark hair, liberally streaked with grey. His face bore the remnants of former good looks, but he was rather gaunt and grey of complexion. He wore well-tailored robes, but they hung on him, as if they had been made for a larger man.

All heads jerked up when he entered, but it was Taffy who spoke first.

'Rafe!' she cried, standing and stumbling across the room towards the newcomer.

He did not speak, but advanced quickly to catch her up in his arms. The two clung to one another, whispered words interspersed between desperate kisses, until Taffy was sobbing against his chest. Everyone had risen, and when he looked up from the trembling witch in his arms, the others approached him, shaking his free hand, slapping him on the back, speaking words of welcome.

Hermione hung back, not wanting to intrude, though her glance continued to move past Taffy's husband, hoping to see another dark figure coming down the marble-tiled hallway. After a time, the newcomer looked directly into Hermione's eyes. He whispered something to Taffy, and the two of them walked across to Hermione.

'I'm Rafe Lestrange,' he said, offering his hand. 'You must be Hermione.'

'How do you do?' she said, looking up into Rafe Lestrange's face. Hearing the name, she had recoiled; only the belief that this man was her Master's best friend allowed her to meet his gaze.

'Yes,' he said, as if he knew her thoughts, 'I'm the other brother—Rodolphus and Rabastan get all the press.' He smiled, and his dark eyes crinkled with merriment, and for a moment, Hermione thought she saw a glimpse of her professor's sense of humour in this burly man.

He released Hermione's hand and delved into his pocket, extracting a package addressed with Hermione's name in achingly familiar spiky script. 'I come bearing gifts,' he said, putting the package into Hermione's hands.

She sat down suddenly on the sofa, for her knees seemed too weak to hold her. With trembling hands, she ripped the brown paper from the package, revealing a sealed letter, written on parchment edged in darkest forest green—the parchment she had given him as a Christmas gift. Hastily, she stowed the missive in her pocket and opened the box.

Within, she found what appeared to be a piece of her emerald green blanket from the professor's study—and wrapped in its folds, she found her green leather journal, which she snatched up and held to her chest. Now she could communicate with her Master! Oh, thank Merlin!

'You missed something,' Rafe said.

'Hermione—look!' Taffy said, her voice still shaky.

Reaching amongst the folds of the blanket, Hermione extracted her black leather collar, the silver disk bearing the entwined SS shining in the candlelight. A note had been tied to the buckle, inscribed with her professor's handwriting. Somehow, he had got into his quarters, reclaimed these things for her, and sent them to her by his most trusted friend. The knowledge filled her heart so full that she felt she could scarcely draw breath. Lifting the note, she read what he had written:

To be worn every minute of every day you reside in Roissy House—SS

She didn't realise she had read the note out loud until the other occupants of the room began to speak in whispers. Taffy had taken the collar from Hermione's numb fingers, and lifting the bushy hair to one side, had begun to fasten the collar in place for her when someone finally spoke aloud.

'Hermione—has Severus collared you?' Hadrian Hunter asked in disbelieving tones.

'Hell yeah, he did,' Rafe answered smugly, looking at Hermione wearing Severus Snape's collar, as proudly as if Rafe had accomplished the impossible himself.


A/N: I know you have all conjectured that Taffy's husband is a canon Death Eater—and I believe Avery would have made a good choice if I had gone that way—but once Rafe Lestrange invaded my consciousness, I knew he had to be the one. Please don't hurt me!