A/N: Chapter 8 of this story has been pulled down from fanfiction dot net for a violation of guidelines. I fear this means that the entire story will be taken down. I will post today in hope that I'm wrong, but I want you all to be aware of the situation. The story is posted as well at ashwinder dot sycophanthex dot com, but I know not everyone wants to join a site to read. Please tell me where you want me to post if the story is taken down, and I'll let you know what I decide. Now, on with the story!
For the Potions Master's Amusement
Chapter 49: Education, Petrifaction, and Mortification
The staircase descended to a room that was, contrary to what Hermione had expected, brightly lit in the central areas, with shadowy niches on the periphery. There were perhaps forty people in the lighted bits of the Dungeon, in various stages of dress and undress, clustered in groups. She could discern shadowy figures in the darkened areas of the room, though she could not clearly see how many there might be.
The centre of the room contained a wooden structure in the shape of a huge letter "X", with leather cuffs affixed at each of the four ends. A naked submissive was bound hand and foot with her front to the wood, and a Dominant in a leather singlet stood behind her, his skin shiny with sweat. As Hermione watched, the Dominant drew his arm back and let fly with a long-tailed whip, which whistled through the air before striking the back of the submissive, drawing a moan from her. A knot of observers stood well back from the whip-wielding Dominant and his submissive, watching with attentive, appreciative awe.
Hermione was instantly riveted by the sight, wondering how the Dominant could make the whip whistle so as it sliced through the air, and how he could whip his submissive without slicing her skin. She did not realise that her professor had brought her to stand amongst the spectators until he spoke to her.
'You like this,' he observed, his hand light upon the nape of her neck.
Hermione was aroused; there was no denying the ache she felt. 'Yes, Master,' she replied, watching as the submissive received another blow to her back, a red mark on her skin the only evidence of the leather which delivered the pleasureful pain.
'This is a St Andrew's Cross,' he informed her. 'You can be bound as Ofelia is, or you can be bound with your back to the cross.' His breath ghosted over her ear, and she knew he had bent his head to hers. 'I could tease you for hours, playing with your nipples and your cunt without letting you come.' The tip of his tongue traced the shell of her ear, and Hermione's eyes closed, the warmth in her quim increasing.
'Yes,' she moaned softly.
'You've missed our time together while I've been away,' her Master suggested.
Hermione slanted a sideways glance to find her professor watching her with half-lidded eyes. 'So much,' she admitted.
The hint of smile touched his cruel lips. 'I should reward you for being a good girl whilst I was away,' he told her, one hand cupping her bum and giving it a squeeze. He nodded to the couple using the cross. 'Master Domitius would be happy to whip you.'
Hermione jerked around to face him, alarm ringing through her. 'Please don't give me to him, Master,' she begged, grasping his robes.
He looked down at her, one eyebrow cocked. 'Give you to him?' he repeated.
A murmur rose from the crowd, indicating that Ofelia and Master Domitius had done something remarkable, but Hermione scarcely noticed. 'Kell told me that a Master can give his submissive to another Master to u-use,' she said, stumbling over the last word. 'P-please don't.'
His eyes were endless, a black so profound that his pupils were scarcely distinguishable. 'I would, perhaps, request another Dominant to use his particular skill upon you, pet, but I would not permit another man to put his hands upon you.' His nostrils flared with a sharp intake of breath, as if at an unpleasant thought. 'Asking Master Domitius to whip you on the cross is one thing; allowing another Master to touch you sexually is something altogether different.'
Hermione swallowed, feeling somewhat reassured, but still not completely at ease. 'I'm a little bit afraid of the whip,' she whispered. 'Must I do it tonight?'
'I am not of a mind to share you, tonight,' he replied with a careless caress to her cheek. 'Come, we will see who else is in a … demonstrative mood, tonight.'
Hermione tucked her hand again in her Master's arm, and they moved toward the next brightly lit space, passing through a shadowy seating area filled with wide armchairs and a sofa. A man dressed from head to foot in crimson satin with black leather accents sat regally in an armchair, while a naked submissive knelt between his knees. Her arms were bound behind her with an elaborate red leather device which held her hands, wrists, and elbows together as in a tightly-laced single glove. Leather straps went over the woman's shoulders and under her arms to hold the arm-binder in place. The woman's head moved up and down in a sure rhythm as she serviced the rigid penis of her companion.
'Evening, Severus,' the man said, reaching forward to grasp the honey-coloured hair of his submissive, thrusting into her mouth with an extra flourish.
'Quin,' Professor Snape replied with a nod, but he did not pause, and Hermione was thankful that she had not been obliged to curtsy to a man receiving fellatio.
In the next area, Nyalla, the Jamaican submissive Hermione had seen the night before, knelt upon a black leather padded device, which had been adjusted to bring her oiled bottom to the perfect height. Behind her stood her lean, mahogany-skinned Dominant, slowly and deliberately fucking her bum. His skin appeared oiled, as well, and his turgid penis glistened under the bright lights as he withdrew and entered her again. Nyalla's wrists were bound to the table-like surface where her upper body rested, and her neck was arched, her eyes closed, her face bearing an expression of ecstasy bordering on transcendence as her Master penetrated her over and again. Periodically, the Dominant paused in his activity to bend over, whispering inaudible things to Nyalla, and he would pull at her nipples or reach beneath her to rub her clitoris. These activities brought keening cries of pleasure from the bound submissive, and Hermione's quim throbbed in sympathy.
'You see?' her professor murmured, standing behind her and holding her against him, his hands at her waist. 'She is aroused beyond reason to have her Master in her arse—she wants to hold nothing back from him.'
Hermione pressed closer to her Master, feeling the hardness of his erection. In answer, one of his hands slid up to caress the soft flesh of her breast above the corset edge, and the other cupped her warm quim outside her black satin knickers, which were becoming damp. She pressed against his hand, still watching the relentless movement of the couple before her, hearing their sounds of arousal. She knew that other observers stood around her; she realised that some of them were touching and being touched, too.
'You want to come, don't you, pet?' her Master murmured, releasing her mons and instead insinuating his fingers inside her knickers, finding and exploiting her slick spot.
'I do,' she gasped, dimly acknowledging her Master was fingering her in public and too aroused to care. His reassuring presence and the irresistible pressure of his fingers in her quim allowed her to simply feel, and the ongoing anal intercourse under the lights held her sight, more exciting that she had imagined it could be.
'What do you want?' he murmured into her ear, his teeth lightly nipping her ear, drawing a startled gasp from her.
'I want to come,' she breathed, broadening her stance to give him more access to her quim.
'Slutty girl,' he purred, and then he took her wrist and led her to the next darkened area, and seating himself in a large leather armchair, he pulled her down into his lap and kissed her.
Hermione could not slump in the corset; it forced her to sit up very straight. She could, however spread her thighs wide, and this she did, sucking madly at her Master's tongue as he teased her clitoris. His free arm came around her, that hand busy at her hip, and suddenly, he had perfect access to her. A light draught of air brought to her the realisation that he had untied the satin knickers on one side, virtually baring her carefully shaved quim to the sight of anyone who cared to approach them. Her fingers scrabbled for the bit of fabric as she tried to cover herself, but her professor imprisoned her hand, his wicked laugh rumbling in her hair.
'Anyone who wants to watch me finger fuck you is welcome to do so,' he told her. 'It's a beautiful sight, pet, I promise you.' He plucked at her clitoris. 'I am very proud of what a lovely, lascivious little one you are.'
Hermione's hips jerked as he knowingly, in tiny movements, pulled at the nub of her clitoris, sending shocks of pleasure through her. She knew she ought to be ashamed—anyone who passed by would be able to see her nakedness and the way her Master played with her—but she was driven by her passion, nearly mindless under his hand, lulled by his voice, which she would doubtless follow over the edge of reason if he wished it.
She leaned back against him as much as the corset would permit, revelling in his hands on her body, his scent, and the mounting tide of excitement he wrought in her. He bent his head forward, the tip of his tongue tracing the edge of her collar.
'Make me happy, pet—come for me now.'
His mouth closed over her throat as he bit and sucked sharply, marking her skin, and at the same moment he released her hand and moved to apply pressure just above her pubic bone, as the relentless fingers in her cunt circled her clitoris faster than ever. With the onslaught of divine sensation, she shattered, humping convulsively against his hand until she shuddered limply to a stop.
'Good girl,' he praised, shifting her so that her cheek rested on his shoulder. He held her with one arm about the boned corset, his free hand rubbing up and down her bare legs. 'Are you chilled?' he asked.
'No,' she said, clinging, hating the way the boning of the corset dug into her, preventing her from bonelessly collapsing on top of her Master.
'We are going to have company,' he said, and Hermione hastened to sit up, thankful that he did not prevent it when she grasped the ends of her black satin knickers and secured them at her hip.
He put her on her feet and rose to stand behind her as a group of young people approached. Hermione smiled to see Kell amongst them, and the two girls embraced as if it had been a month since they had last met, rather than a day. Kell wore a flashy green suspender belt with a matching thong and a frivolous little headdress with a green feather in her hair. She was slender and long of leg, with small, pert breasts.
'Sir,' Hermione said, looking up at her professor, 'this is my friend, Kell.' Looking back to Kell, she said proudly, 'Kell, this is my Master, Severus Snape.'
Kell averted her eyes and gave a slight curtsy, and Professor Snape nodded. 'You're Claudius' trainee?' he inquired.
'Yes, sir,' Kell responded with a quick grin. She turned to her companions, two Dominants who were strangers to Hermione. 'We came over because someone asked to meet you, sir.'
The taller of the two young men, a blond on the portly side, stepped forward and extended his hand. 'How do you do, sir?' he said affably. 'I'm Simon Curtis, from the D/s community in Sussex.'
Professor Snape shook Simon's hand, speaking a word of greeting, and Simon introduced his companion, a ginger-haired wizard called Jason Burdon.
'What brings you gentleman in from Sussex?' Professor Snape asked, and Hermione knew from his tone of voice that something had displeased him.
'We're really here for the Japanese rope bondage workshop tomorrow,' Simon said enthusiastically, 'but we thought we'd come by tonight to pay our respects.'
'Roissy House is always happy to welcome lifestylers from other areas,' the professor said smoothly, but Hermione could detect a hint of steely edge to his tone. 'Perhaps, as visitors, you are unaware that Dominants who do not care to play may partake of beverages in the Dominants' Study, upstairs. We do not drink at play parties.'
Jason straightened and looked a bit embarrassed, but Simon was oblivious to the warning in the professor's tone.
'Oh, we've had nothing but punch since we arrived,' the younger wizard assured him a bit too loudly. 'Of course, before we came from the hotel, we had cocktails before dinner—and a bit of wine with our meal.'
The professor's nostrils flared in annoyance, and Hermione could sense that he wished to berate Simon Curtis as if he were a firstie who had melted his cauldron. Instead, he said icily, 'Do not hesitate to ask if we can be of service to you,' and with a curt nod, he took Hermione's arm and steered her toward the next brightly lit area of the Dungeon.
'Drunk,' he muttered darkly. 'Both of them. Not precisely a shining example of the D/s community in Sussex.'
Hermione nodded her understanding, thinking that her professor was as strict in his observance of the proper etiquette in Dominance and submission as he was in the school rules at Hogwarts—which was almost amusing, when you considered that he was on the run from the Ministry of Magic for assisting in a prison break. She smiled to herself, amused, only startled out of her thoughts when he spoke to her.
'I believe this was made for you, little one,' he said, and Hermione looked around to see that they stood in an area much like a dining hall. There was a long table, surrounded by a few high stools and even more low wooden loungers, not unlike Muggle patio furniture minus the cushions. The long table was covered by candles of every size and colour, and a small brazier sat in the centre for quick lighting.
A tiny Asian woman was lying upon one of the loungers, and her Dominant stood over her with a burning candle in each hand, decorating her flesh. As Hermione watched, hot wax fell from each candle, simultaneously landing upon the submissive's erect nipples, drawing a screeching cry from her. Hermione was horrified by the noise—honestly, had the woman no control?
'Don't mind Yoko,' her professor said, sounding amused. 'Jiro pushes her limits with the wax play, but I've never seen a submissive who can endure rope bondage as she can.'
Hermione turned to him, and he stood with his hip resting upon the edge of the table, a pale pink candle in his hand. 'What's that for?' she asked, her voice breaking nervously into a high register.
'Sit,' he ordered her, and Hermione climbed onto one of the high stools, hooking the heels of her shoes on a convenient rung.
Her professor stood back and looked at her, his eyes travelling over her in a leisurely manner, as if he very much enjoyed what he saw. Hermione felt her cheeks flush with pleasure at his obvious admiration. Here they were, together in the midst of numerous naked and nearly naked submissive women—definitely Severus Snape's preferred type—and he seemed to have eyes for no one but her, in her pale pink corset and ruffled black satin knickers. She smiled at him, and by the crinkling at the corners of his eyes, she knew he smiled back.
'You must sit very still, pet,' he said, thrusting the pink candle wick into the brazier fire. 'Your shoulders and chest are unadorned, but I think I can remedy that situation.'
Hermione swallowed and bit the inside of her cheek, but she didn't speak. They had engaged in wax play before, and she had enjoyed it. He was requiring her to play at this party, but he wasn't asking her to do something she had never done before. She had absolute trust in his ability to drizzle the candle wax on her skin without harming her.
'Yes, Master,' she said, and she focussed her attention on him, knowing if she remained focussed, he would not be disappointed in her.
'The trick,' he said, moving to stand behind her, 'is not to spoil the undeniably expensive corset with candle wax.'
'Look!' a voice called from off to Hermione's right. 'Severus is waxing his sub!'
'Still as a statue, little one,' he murmured, and Hermione realised that he had planned this. He knew very well that his actions with his first ever collared submissive at their first ever public appearance would be closely watched. He wanted it to be seen that in spite of her short time as a submissive, she was not without some accomplishments—and almost certainly, he wished to draw the attention of the people amongst whom he had lived his life for the last twenty years. He was proud of her—had he not said so? This was his method of showing her off without pushing her beyond her comfort zone for her first D/s outing.
A small group gathered around them, but Hermione scarcely noticed the spectators; she was looking through them, her senses heightened to take note of only her professor.
'We'll begin now, pet,' he said, and the first bead of liquid fire touched her flesh, just shy of burning her, a flash of exquisite heat which she felt as if he had licked her quim. The wax was on her shoulder, drizzling down her shoulder blade, with the process repeated on the other side.
Hermione remained perfectly still, feeling each drip of wax as an intimate caress, and she was proud beyond bearing to receive this attention from this man in the face of these witnesses. She had wished once to have her bruises admired, and she knew that she was now in the company of the only people in the world who could view the marks with which her professor gifted her with the approbation they deserved.
Again and again the process was repeated, wax upon wax, her professor creating an artistic piece of her upper back. At last he said, 'The front now, pet. You're doing very well.'
Hermione was glad for the warning, for the next drop of wax touched upon her collar bone. She stared into the group of watchers, seeing all of her house-mates, except for Kell. Master Claudius and Violet stood beside Hadrian and Elinore with Reggie Bardulph standing behind Elinore's chair. Nyalla, looking sated, stood arm and arm with her Master, and even the crowd who had been watching Jiro and Yoki had turned to watch Severus Snape wax his submissive.
A second wave of wax drizzled down her breastbone, into hollow between her breasts, and Hermione breathed through her mouth as the heat touched the tender skin there. Vi smiled at her, nodding encouragingly, and Hermione smiled in response; it was the friendliest gesture the other witch had ever made to her. She approved of how Hermione endured the wax play. It dawned on Hermione that this small public demonstration affirmed her position not only as Severus Snape's fuck-toy, but as a true submissive, able to participate in some of the more advanced play practices amongst the community members. Feeling pleased with herself, she silently thanked her Master for preparing her for this demonstration.
At last, her Master murmured, 'All done now, pet. Remain motionless now while the wax completely dries and allow those who wish to inspect my work to look you over.'
Two submissives Hermione didn't know were the first to approach, and they had the ginger-haired Jason from Sussex with them.
'How do you manage to stay so still?' one of the girls asked. She had big brown eyes and seemed genuinely awed. 'I'm afraid of wax play!'
Hermione smiled. 'It doesn't really hurt,' she explained. 'It's very hot, of course, but it cools very quickly.'
The other submissive walked all the way around Hermione and announced, 'It looks like a really elaborate necklace, only made of pink wax—and it's an exact match for your corset!'
'Master Severus has terrific control of the waxing process,' Jason said judiciously.
'Perhaps I have a future career ahead of me in submissive's couture,' Professor Snape said in a lazy drawl.
Jason looked abashed, but a familiar voice laughed loudly.
'I wouldn't bank on it, Sev,' Rafe's voice advised. Taffy's large husband circled Hermione with an experienced eye. 'She's been in training for only four months?' he said musingly. 'Not many young subbies could have sat still enough for that.' He grinned at Hermione. 'Master Maximus is impressed, Hermione.'
As always, Rafe's good humour was contagious. 'Thank you, Master Maximus,' she said, feeling terribly pleased with herself.
Rafe turned to the others. 'Who are you lot?' he inquired with a frown.
Professor Snape stepped into Hermione's field of vision for the first time since the waxing had begun. He extended his hand to her, and she rose from the stool. 'Lovely,' he said, his voice pitched for her ears only. Then he said to Rafe, 'This young man is one of our visitors from Sussex,' he said. 'But where is Mr Curtis?'
Jason looked over his shoulder. 'He and Kell were going to try out the bull whip,' he said. 'Let's go watch them,' he added to the two girls.
Professor Snape's eyebrows drew together. 'Claudius, you gave permission for your trainee to play with the visiting Dominant?' he asked.
Master Claudius looked up from his conversation with Hadrian and Reggie. 'Yes, with young Master Simon,' he agreed.
The professor moved closer to the group of Hermione's house-mates. 'That whelp has been drinking,' he said.
Hadrian frowned. 'I met with them before they were allowed access to the Dungeon,' he said quietly. 'I saw nothing amiss. They had a letter of introduction from Master Thorn, in Sussex.'
Hermione was surprised when Professor Snape nodded and deferred to Hadrian. She was used to seeing him persist until he carried his point. Instead, he went down on one knee before Elinore to engage her in quiet conversation.
'We're enjoying Hermione's company very much,' Elinore said after a moment, now speaking loudly enough for Hermione to hear. Elinore patted Hermione's hand.
'I am in your debt,' Professor Snape said, and taking Elinore's hand, he kissed it.
Hermione tried very hard not to care, but she found herself feeling a bit jealous of Elinore. She knew, from the photograph she had seen, that her Master had certainly had a very close—and most likely an intimate—relationship with Elinore and Hadrian Hunter. Even so, knowing it and seeing it were two very different things.
Elinore patted Professor Snape on the cheek, and he rose, taking Hermione's arm.
'Let's finish our tour, shall we?' he said, pulling her along.
Hermione was glad to walk away from Elinore, and they moved through a darkened area. There was a sofa, currently occupied, facing a few empty armchairs. Sounds of arousal came from the couple on the sofa, and Hermione glanced quickly towards them. In the murk she could make out a naked woman standing on the sofa cushions, and between her legs sat a man, fully dressed, whose hands gripped the woman's arse cheeks. The wet noises indicated that the lucky submissive was having her quim eaten out by her Dominant, and Hermione was surprised to note that she was aroused again at the sight and sound of strangers engaging in cunnilingus.
'Filthy girl,' her professor breathed in her hair.
Hermione tried to move away, into the light, but her Master held her immobile, forcing her to face the couple on the sofa.
'You wish it was you,' he told her, pulling her back against him. 'You want to have me lick your wet cunt in here, with all these people watching us.'
'No,' Hermione protested, though the aching heat between her legs suggested that she was lying.
The submissive on the sofa began to chant, her voice rising in volume until Hermione was clearly able to hear her.
'Eat me eat me eat me eat me, oh Master, eat me, oh, oh, oh, I'm going to come,' and she dragged out the sound of the last word right up until the moment she began to make inarticulate noises, grinding herself against her Master's face shamelessly.
'Is your cunt on fire, little one?' Professor Snape asked.
'Yes,' Hermione admitted, throbbing with want.
'Do you want me to touch you?'
'Yes, please,' she said, turning in his arms.
He took her hand and closed it around the iron hardness of his cock. 'Do you want me to fuck you?' he growled, thrusting through the grip of her hand.
'Please,' she whimpered.
He removed her hand from him and turned her away. 'Perhaps I'll let you come when I fuck you tonight,' he said in a conversational tone, propelling her towards the next lighted area. 'I'm going to take you back to our room tonight, and I'm going to fuck you very hard. When I'm finished with you, you're going to have a difficult time walking.'
Hermione allowed herself to be pushed into the light, hoping they could see the rest of the dungeon quickly and then go upstairs. Even if he didn't let her come, surely it would be a relief to have his cock inside her, rubbing away the ache caused by watching that unknown submissive coming all over her Master's face. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, hearing again the stranger's orgasmic cries, feeling her slick arousal on her upper thighs, wondering if everyone in the room could smell her quim as distinctly as she could.
Then the strange medical-looking area impinged on her consciousness, and she stared around her, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. There were three examination tables which looked like they were directly out of a Muggle doctor's office, and there were witches lying on their sides on the tables with tubing in their bums, and there were metal poles with red rubber bags hanging from them … oh, surely not!
She turned her open-mouthed amazement to her professor, and he smirked at her. 'No, you're not imagining it.'
'But … those people are receiving enemas,' she muttered, hoping no one would hear her. 'Surely the magical community has a better …'
The professor snorted. 'There are potions available,' he said, 'but there are some people who prefer the, er, distinctive feel of the Muggle method.'
Hermione was horrified. 'Please tell me we aren't going to …'
'No,' he said decisively. 'I have no sexual interest in enemas or other so-called medical procedures.'
Hermione turned away, blinking her eyes as if hoping to clear her mind of what she had seen. 'I don't even remember reading about this in t's book,' she said.
Her professor chuckled. 'No, t is an exemplary submissive in many, many ways, but this sort of thing is a hard limit of hers. Rafe uses it as the ultimate threat to enforce good behaviour.'
They had now seen all of the demonstration areas and were making the complete circuit of the Dungeon. They had been downstairs for little more than an hour, yet Hermione felt far more comfortable now than she had done when they first stepped into the room. Ahead, she could see the St Andrew's Cross, and there was Kell, wearing that silly feather in her hair, bound head and foot to the wooden structure. Standing at the back of the watching group was Reg, his arms crossed over his chest, a frown on his face.
Hermione wanted to watch Kell, and they stopped near Reg, who glanced to Professor Snape quickly before returning his gaze to the couple at the cross.
'Did you say this bloke had been drinking?' he asked tersely.
'Yes,' the professor responded promptly. 'Hadrian thought not, but I smelled it on him—and he admitted it to me.' He nodded his head towards Simon and Kell. 'How're they doing?'
Reg snorted. 'I don't think he knows how to handle the whip, to be frank.'
Kell glanced over her shoulder and spoke to Simon, who had turned his back to her. Hermione moved forward, through some of the other onlookers, curious as to what Kell was trying to communicate to the visiting Dominant. She saw Simon pull a small flask from his pocket, take a swig from it, and replace it in his pocket.
'… ready to stop,' Kell was saying.
'We're just getting started, Kell,' Simon responded, taking up the whip and flicking his wrist to unfurl it.
Hermione moved closer to Kell, wanting to hear her response.
'I've changed my mind,' Kell said, beginning to sound a bit alarmed.
'You can't change your mind with me, girlie,' Simon said, stepping close to Kell and giving her bare arse a slap. 'You'll enjoy it—you'll enjoy it all,' he added, shifting the bulge in his trousers to one side.
Hermione moved without thinking, and she was standing directly under the bright lights. 'She said she wants to be let down,' Hermione informed Simon baldly.
Simon turned to glare at Hermione, sweat running down his rather florid face. He shifted the whip handled to his left hand and pulled his wand with his right.
A hand closed over Hermione's shoulder, and with one smooth motion, Professor Snape had moved Hermione behind him. 'Get back,' he hissed at her. To Simon, he said, 'Release the trainee, Curtis,' he said.
Reg stepped up beside the professor, looking more like a Dominant than Hermione had ever seen him manage. 'Release her now,' he said, his voice carrying across the room, which had gone strangely quiet.
With a jab of his wand in Reg's direction, Simon cried, 'Expelliarmus!'
Reg's wand flew into the air, and in a flash, Hermione drew her wand from its sheathe and stepped up to stand by her Master. He reacted so quickly that Hermione never saw it coming. He simultaneously thrust his wand at her and pushed her behind him. The impetus of the shove lifted her a bit off her feet, but the thrust of the wand had been accompanied by a non-verbal spell. She fell heavily to the floor, as stiff a board, landing painfully on her side.
From her ignominious position on the floor, she saw her Master Stun Simon Curtis and shoot ropes from his wand to bind the drunken visiting Dominant. Reg darted past them to the cross, where he gently released Kell, who clung to him and cried.
Hadrian, Claudius, and Rafe moved forward, and after a whispered consultation with Professor Snape, they levitated the bound Simon and went up the steps with him floating before them like a rolled, lumpy carpet.
Hermione watched it all happening through eyes which could not even blink from the defensive spell cast on her by her Master. She was glad that Kell was unharmed, but the mixture of fury and mortification which burned through her body was like acid in her bloodstream, burning through all feelings, save impotent rage.
And with his business attended to, Severus Snape turned to Hermione, lifted her and slung her over his shoulder like a rag doll, and Disapparated with her to their room.
