Chapter 24
Severus let go of her hands that he'd been holding against the pillows above her head as he'd finished them both off, and Hermione immediately returned her searching hands to his face in the way that had so tugged at his heart, now catching the falling tears and wiping his cheeks with her thumbs.
"What is it?" she said, quietly, attending to his tears even though her own were still spilling from her eyes.
He pulled his cock out of her gently, for it was still semi-hard, and sat back on his heels, scrubbing roughly at his face to rid it of the signs of weakness and lack of control that had sprung free during their unexpectedly emotional bout of lovemaking.
"I am sorry," he answered, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
Dropping his foot to the cold floor, he stepped from her bed, reaching for his trousers and pulling them on, before picking up his shirt and doing up a few of the buttons, feeling an urgent need to cover to his nakedness in the light of the vulnerability he had just revealed.
Granger must have felt the same, as she sat up and pulled the covers across her body, holding them to her breasts, covering them. Her long, curly hair was tumbling wildly about her shoulders as she wiped the remains of her own tears from her eyes, and Severus couldn't help thinking how beautiful she looked – innocent, yet knowing. He sat down next to her on the bed, as he had when he'd first entered the room.
"Please forgive my lack of self-control," he asked, resting a hand on her leg through the bedcovers. "I encouraged you to release your feelings, but did not expect to do the same myself."
"That's alright to do that, you know? I don't mind. It's not good to bottle things up. Do you want to talk about it?"
Giving a short, rueful, mirthless laugh, he shook his head.
"There is nothing to be gained from me unburdening myself to you. You have more than enough on your plate at the present time, little witch. I believe it is sufficient that we are required to connect physically, without adding emotional dependency to an already potent mixture."
She extended an arm from its position holding the covers, and reached for his hand.
"I don't mind."
Severus stared at her, thinking how easy it would be to just talk, to sit here all night on her little bed and really talk, talk about everything that had happened, and all that he feared would still come to pass, but he would not give her that great burden of responsibility.
"I am sure you do not, but I do. Our lives are already becoming too interwoven as it is. Your own heightened reaction at climax forced a similar emotion in myself, let us leave it at that. I thank you for your … for your tenderness. It is not something with which I am terribly familiar."
Her fingers were clasping the top of his hand, and her little thumb was tracing small circles on his palm, just that one tiny movement causing him great pangs of want, of need. What he wouldn't give for a witch like this of his very own, a witch he could keep, who would certainly not be a student, and twenty years younger than him. She had admitted she fancied him, that was true, and he had done the same, embellishing his point quite emphatically with his cock, but that was unlikely to be anything more than the effect the compulsion was having on them, the forced sexual contact. The whole notion was of course ridiculous, since he had never entertained any kind of relationship, not even in his youth. His life had been a series of sexually fulfilling but emotionally unsatisfying encounters, and he had presumed this was his lot. Damn this girl for making him want for things that he had long ago accepted would never be his.
Rising to his feet and reluctantly letting go of her hand, he pushed his feet into his boots without socks, and summoned the rest of his discarded clothing into his arms.
"I should go. Sleep well, Miss Granger."
She nodded in response, and he turned back towards the fireplace, stepping through to his office, where he immediately dropped everything he was holding and sank into one of his fireside armchairs, shaking badly.
Hermione Granger was getting under his skin in the worst way. Not only was he compelled to sexually seek her out to avoid a fast descent into insanity, not only was she one of his few allies against the dictatorship of the Dark Lord, but she was also provoking desires in him that he was emotionally ill-equipped to cope with.
Every time he told himself that it was purely the compulsion driving her, that her phenomenal mind had simply come up with the best solution for them to live with the edicts of the curse, her tender touches and her eyes full of emotion attempted to prove otherwise. He briefly wondered whether it was better to defy the curse and die from sexual desperation than this slow takeover of his rational mind.
It's nothing personal, Severus, he reminded himself. It's not fucking personal, and you'd do well to remember that, you stupid bastard.
Hermione sat upright in bed for a few moments after Professor Snape had left, looking around the empty room and missing his large presence as soon as he'd been swallowed up by the green flames of the Floo connection.
His insanely tender lovemaking had been just that, it wasn't a quick fuck, he had quite assiduously made exquisite love to her, his thrusts deep and slow, building such a devastating climax inside her that she'd actually been moved to tears by the strength of it. True, she had no other experience, but she wasn't stupid, and had heard enough conversations about sex to know that what had just happened had been rather special.
Yes, she was grieving, but this had been more than that. It had felt as if Snape were telling a story through his endless black eyes, comforting her with the solid weight of his body, drawing out her sadness with his sexual skill, leaving her emotionally unwound and desperate for more.
And yet he had run.
You are a fool, Hermione, she chastised herself.
Professor Snape had entered her dormitory to attend to the compulsion, as they'd agreed, and she'd allowed herself to be swept away in the sensuality of the moment, combining it with her own neediness like a lovesick idiot, forgetting he was her professor - her superior, and not a devastatingly dark wizard with whom she was having a torrid affair of the heart.
In truth, she was most likely the bane of his existence, with all the responsibilities and stress he was currently under. She would do well to remember that.
-xxx-
Orla woke to the summer sunlight peeking around the edges of the thick curtains, lightening the room, and a smile came to her face almost instantly. She was in her pyjamas, and Draco was wearing the t-shirt and undershorts he'd been wearing since they arrived – they really ought to go out today and buy him some basic items to wear.
He had been a complete gentleman the previous night, and truth be told, she would probably have allowed him to take more than he had. They had kissed in the middle of the room, before taking it in turns to use the bathroom and get changed for bed. By mutual agreement; there had been more kissing in bed, Draco threading his hands through her long, white-blonde hair as he treated her mouth to his lips again, in such a gentle way that Orla had felt desired, aroused and comfortable all at the same time.
She'd felt his erection against her stomach, through his thin undershorts, but at the accidental touch he had planted a final kiss to her forehead and bid her goodnight, turning on to his back, but keeping a foot pressed against her, and had sought out her hand to hold.
At some point during the night, Draco had spooned behind her, his chest pressed against her back, and his tattooed arm thrown across her. She examined the impressive ink, fully healed, looking at the dragon curled around his forearm, and couldn't help but touch it, running her fingertips over the design.
"That's morning, then, is it?" he asked, directly against her ear.
"Even better," she replied, smiling, "it's Saturday morning, meaning no work for me today."
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she felt the unmistakeable prod of his morning wood against her lower back.
"I'm sorry," he coughed, moving back and creating some distance between them.
Orla quickly flipped over and faced him, putting her arm over him before he could get too far away from her.
"It's fine, Draco. If it wasn't, I would tell you, okay?"
He looked conflicted.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be the biggest cunt that ever lived, taking advantage of you after … you know … after what you've been though. I would never hurt you, Orla. Ever."
"I believe that," she whispered, leaning forward and dropping a soft kiss on his lips. "And I would never have thought that I'd be ready for … anything, so soon. But it seems that trust and companionship are great healers. I'm surprised too, but … I really like you, Draco Malfoy."
The smile that slowly curled his mouth was beautiful, with a slight edge of seductiveness that stopped it from being too saccharine. There was a danger in his eyes that she couldn't help but admit that she found hopelessly attractive. He closed the distance between them and began to kiss her properly, in that seeking, gentle way he had last night. There was no doubt Malfoy was a damn good kisser, and Orla tried her best to not wonder who he had kissed before, as the faces of the Slytherin girls danced through her mind.
"We need to get you some clothes today," she told him, when they came up for air, and he frowned.
"Please don't tell me you have been thinking of shopping while I was kissing you?"
Oops. She wouldn't tell him that what she'd actually been thinking of was smacking Pansy Parkinson in the face for ever having the gall to kiss Draco, and the clothes thing had just popped out.
"I'm sorry. Mind going too fast."
She blushed.
"It's fine," he grinned, "I need to get up anyway, got a visit to pay to a certain tattoo parlour, haven't I? You stay in bed, me and my wand will go and see what we can conjure up in the way of a job, and then we'll go out for the day. Lunch and clothes shopping?"
"I have no doubt that your skill with a Confundus charm is strong," she replied, "and yes, good plan. Sounds great."
And it really did.
-xxx-
Two days later, Snape was at the head table in the Great Hall during dinner, a table which was thankfully free from Death Eaters since they had been summoned by Voldemort earlier that evening, and he had already been pre-warned that he need not attend.
The majority of the teaching staff were still openly hostile to him since they did not know of his true loyalties, and McGonagall and Sprout were simply ambivalent, since they did. None of them could yet reveal themselves to the rest of the staff before a concrete plan was in place, and as yet, they had still drawn a blank on their first hurdle of killing the fucking snake.
That could change tonight, however. He had received an owl earlier that day, the same one that had advised him not to attend the summons with the rest of the Death Eaters, but instead instructed that upon their immediate return, Severus was to come to the Little Hangleton manor for a private audience with the Dark Lord.
Perhaps Nagini would be roaming free as the house would be empty. Snape had secreted two Basilisk fangs in the folds of his cloak, wondering if he would get the opportunity to stick it to the bastard reptile.
However, not only would he have to murder the snake, but he'd also have to do without Voldemort seeing him, which seemed unlikely. If he was caught doing it, and managed to escape before an Avada was cast upon him, he would have to go into hiding, since he would of course not be able to return to Hogwarts, leaving the castle exposed and unprotected. The futility of the tenuous plan was all too evident, but at present, it was all they had.
The doors to the Great Hall swung open, and the returning Death Eaters stomped into the hall like a band of black wraiths, leaving their masks on for maximum effect upon the students, most of whom shrunk back into their seats in fear. They marched up the central aisle, removing their masks as they approached the top table. Snape had already left his chair and was preparing to leave for his own meeting, but was stopped by Macnair.
"Not so fast, Headmaster," he drawled, unpleasantly. "We are instructed to tell you that you must bring the Mudblood with you, tonight. The Dark Lord has requested to see her."
Severus' heart plummeted to his boots so fast that he thought he might vomit up the small amount of dinner that he'd been able to eat, knowing that a meeting was imminent. Noting Minerva's shocked expression, which he attempted to ignore, despite the rising panic in his gut, he merely nodded, shuttering his emotions behind a neutral gaze, before sweeping out from behind the table and down the aisle towards the door, stopping at the end of the Gryffindor table where Miss Granger sat.
"Granger. Come."
"Where are you taking her?" shouted Finnigan, jumping to his feet in protection of his friend.
"That's not really your concern, is it, Finnigan?" he replied, smoothly, gesturing his hand impatiently for Granger to leave her seat and accompany him.
"It is my concern if you're going to hurt her!"
"I suggest you do not make things any worse for yourself than they already are," he advised, trying to avoid any possible punishment for the hot-headed Gryffindor, who was already a favourite target of the Carrows. "Granger, now."
Hermione swung her legs over the bench and stood up, standing meekly beside him. How it pained him to do this, to treat her this way! How uncharacteristic it was for this outstanding young witch to be so passive, so subservient, and he had a horrible feeling that it was just about to get worse, since he'd been ordered to bring her before the Dark Lord.
Severus swept around and continued walking, jerking his head to indicate that she should follow him, ignoring the salacious catcalls from the Death Eaters, who had no shame at openly declaring where he was going before the gathered children in the Great Hall. He despised every last one of the bastards and would happily dance on their graves.
He walked her out of the front doors and into the grounds, towards the Apparition point outside the front gates, despite not needing to. He needed to warn her, to prepare her, before he took her to the Riddle House.
"I have been ordered to bring you before the Dark Lord," he advised, his face grim at the sight of the shock and horror on hers. "I know not why he wishes to see you, but remember, he believes that you are under my complete control, and I will have to act as such."
"I understand, Sir," she replied, earnestly, trotting along beside him, trying to meet his fast pace with her shorter legs.
"Do you really understand, Granger? The Dark Lord is a deviant, he craves pain and humiliation. I am already in trepidation of how I shall be forced to act, and of what may happen to you."
"Just do what needs to be done."
He winced. She had used the same words when suggesting they fuck voluntarily to counter the curse. Did she count both him and Voldemort in the same column? He fervently hoped not.
"Everything I do, every action I take, will be working towards returning here with you unharmed after the meeting. Remember that. Do as I tell you, exactly as I tell you. Remember, the man I will be tonight is not truly me, it is a role I am forced to play. Be silent, keep your eyes to the floor, and do not speak unless spoken to, however much you might be tempted to.
She nodded, and he already hated himself.
"In addition. It was my original plan to make an attempt on the snake's life tonight, since I am to be there alone, and I wondered if Nagini may be allowed to roam free since the house is empty."
He reached into his cloak and pulled out one of the two Basilisk fangs he had concealed there.
"These are the fangs that you gave me, weeks ago. I have one, and here is the other. I appreciate that it seems unlikely, but if either of us get the chance to pierce the snake with one, we need to do it."
She slipped the fang inside her cloak and appeared to gather her nerve.
"It's probably better if I do it, Sir, since if Voldemort sees you kill his snake, then he'll be after you, too. I'm already a threat. So, if I do it, and don't die in the attempt, I'll Apparate to Grimmauld Place and hide there. Don't worry about me."
Her voice was shaky, and he suspected she was far more scared than her words would suggest. They had reached the Apparition point and were now the other side of the gates, and he turned to face her.
"What about your exams? They are in less than a fortnights' time."
"I was told long ago that I need to sort out my priorities and get some perspective in life. I think I've finally learned why."
"You truly are a brave lion."
"I broke out of Gringotts on the back of a Ukrainian Ironbelly. This should be simple," she replied, her deathly-pale face in stark contradiction to her confident words.
"I am with you," was his only reply, and he indicated for her to take his arm, as he touched the tip of his wand to the centre of his Dark Mark.
-xxx-
Strangely, Voldemort bade Severus to sit down, rather than bow, as soon as he entered the now lavishly decorated lounge room at the Riddle House, and it made him feel uncomfortable and wrongfooted as he seated himself in the large armchair opposite the chilling, barely-human wizard who was the cause of all that was currently wrong with the world.
"Your toy can sit with you, of course, Severus," Voldemort hissed, indicating that Granger should sit on his lap, which would present a problem since it was now nearly two full days since they had last been intimate, and the proximity would no doubt trigger both their compulsions.
Fuck.
Snape had known he would need to seek her out tonight for assistance with his needs, but had hoped it would be in privacy rather than before this psychotic deviant. How quickly could he get her out of here and back to his chambers? It added a rather inconvenient tangent their already jam-packed agenda of seeing off the Dark Lord, as well as killing his final, very alive, Horcrux. He began to feel despair seep into his bones as Granger seated herself upon his lap, and he could feel the warmth of her arse cause a shot of pleasure straight to his groin.
"I am glad you brought her."
"You instructed me to do so, My Lord. I should never presume to disobey you."
"You are a good and faithful servant, Severus. I am pleased that this boon has been granted to you. However, I need information from her. Instruct her that she may speak with me."
"Look up, Mudblood. You have been given the great honour of addressing the Dark Lord."
Severus placed one hand on her thigh, possessively, and with his other hand he roughly tilted her chin up to face Voldemort. He noted that she wore not her usual defiant expression, but looked meek and scared.
"How may I assist you, Sir?" Granger asked him, her voice trembling.
"The other Mudblood. Where is she?" he demanded.
"I'm afraid I don't know, Sir."
"But, why not?"
"Orla Roach and I were not close friends. We did not have lessons together, and we have only spoken a handful of times," she answered, truthfully, watching Voldemort consider her answer.
"Is she with Draco Malfoy?"
"I do not know. I only know that Orla was gifted to Professor Yaxley, as I am to Professor Snape. I do not know if she was friends with Malfoy."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes as if he did not believe her answer, but was disinclined to question her further. If he'd really wanted to know, he could have used Legilimency, but had opted not to do so. Why?
Granger shifted awkwardly on his lap, and he could feel the heat from her core upon his thigh. Shit, she wasn't compelled, was she? From the time she had begged him to attend her urgently in the Gryffindor common room, he knew that her compulsion was less frequent than his own, but worsened faster.
The hideous smirk on the equally hideous face opposite confirmed his fears.
"Your little toy is agitated, Severus. No doubt you will wish to address this."
"Thank you, My Lord," he replied, making a move to leave the chair, thinking Nagini would have to wait another day.
"Sit, Severussss. You misunderstand me. I have much still to discuss with you. You may deal with your Mudblood here where you sit, in front of me."
He felt Granger's muscles tense, and her quiet cry of, No!
"Silence," he commanded, hating himself. "Lay back, and do not interrupt the Dark Lord with your slavering cries."
She meekly lay back against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder and turning it away from him as he pulled her skirt up to her hips and pushed her thighs apart, slipping two long fingers under her knickers and beginning to stroke her outer labia. He could feel her heat from here, the girl was most definitely compelled.
"She is compliant, Severus."
"She is, My Lord."
"She enjoys your touch?"
"As you can see," he smirked, snaking a finger down to her vagina to see if she was dampening.
"Whilst you attend to her, let us continue. You have already told me that you have no news of Draco Malfoy and the other Mudblood, but would you agree that they are most likely together? It seems improbable that both would have absconded, undetected on the same day, separately."
"I agree, My Lord. Wherever they are, I would dare to presume that they are together."
"How can we find them?"
"You have already tasked all Death Eaters with searching for Malfoy. I have no doubt that they are giving top priority to your wishes."
As he spoke, he sank two fingers inside the girl, causing her to make a tiny squeak of pleasured surprise as he twisted them around, burrowing between her cleft with his thumb and seeking her clit, flicking the soft bud in a strumming motion, making her gasp.
"You cannot keep her quiet, Severus?"
"Only with a silencing charm, My Lord, however I find that I enjoy her cries. However, if she disturbs you, I shall apply one."
"It is of no matter."
"You are very generous."
"Lord Voldemort is always benevolent, as you know. Show her to me."
"It would please you if I exposed the Mudblood before you?"
He nodded, a revoltingly lascivious look in his snake-like eyes. The filthy deviant knew that Granger had no knowledge of the whereabouts of or relationship between Malfoy and Roach. This was what he wanted. Clearly, they were to be his entertainment this evening.
"Show me her dirty cunt, Severus."
"As you wish."
Granger let out a small noise of protest and turned her head further away as Snape pulled the seat of her knickers to one side, sickened at thought of revealing something so perfect before someone so wholly unworthy. He removed his fingers from inside her channel and instead pulled open her labia to show the Dark Lord everything he wanted to see
"The witch is soaking wet, already, Severus. My gift of the compulsion is surely working for you?"
"It certainly is," he replied, applying his pointer finger to Granger's clit and beginning to circle and rub the sensitive nub, trying not to block Voldemort's view with his own hands. "I find her wet and ready for me whenever I have need of her."
Voldemort leaned back in his chair, massaging his own cock through his silky robes.
"When will she spend? I desire to see."
"It does not usually take her very long. She is rather fond of my hands and fingers."
Severus continued to flicker his finger against Hermione's clit as he felt her hips begin to move in arousal, despite the horrendousness of the situation. Voldemort continued to ask him questions about Draco Malfoy, and whether he thought that Lucius Malfoy may be covertly shielding his son, whilst never taking his perverted eyes from Granger's open cunt, which was leaking her sweet fluid over his fingers that were holding her open to the Dark Lord's gaze.
He had to make her come quickly, to end this humiliation, since Voldemort would not allow her to close her legs until he had seen her climax, so the least time she spent in this position, the better. He added another finger to her clitoris, masturbating the bud around in a circle, pulling it this way and that, forcing her unwilling orgasm closer.
Voldemort was breathing heavily, jiggling at his own cock, all pretence of conversation forgotten in his desire to watch the Mudblood spend in the lap of his faithful puppet headmaster.
Severus vanished Granger's knickers to free the fingers that were holding them to the side, and used his now available hand to tickle her arsehole, knowing how hard she had come when he'd touched it previously. He had to finish this, and soon.
His little witch gasped involuntarily, pressing her hips upwards as he played with her puckered rear end whilst frigging her clit, hard and fast. She was nearly there, he knew it.
"I think your little Mudblood is about to come for us, Severus."
"Indeed, she is, My Lord. Come on, girl, show the Dark Lord what you have."
Granger let out a cry of frustration as she succumbed to his relentless masturbation, jerking her hips up and down against the rapid movement of his fingers, which he then slipped down to her vagina and held it open wide, pulling her soft labia apart so that Voldemort could see her hot little hole opening and closing with the force of her orgasm, dripping arousal fluid, desperate to be filled.
Oh, please, he thought, suddenly. Please, don't make me to do that to her here, in front of you, you deviant bastard.
Voldemort got to his feet and took a step towards them. Hermione was still splayed on his lap, his erect cock pressing against her back, and her face turned resolutely away. The Dark Lord leaned forward and dropped his hand towards Granger's open pussy, wiping his finger around her wet hole and helping himself to a swipe of her dripping juice. Granger screamed in pain.
"The hex works too, I see?" Voldemort smirked as he sat back in his chair, licking his wet finger with a snake-like tongue. "That will assist you, Severus, since if her cunt is touched by another wizard, or by her own hand, the stinging hex will remind her exactly to whom she belongs."
"Thank you, My Lord. It has proved a most useful addition."
"Now, you must be suffering yourself, Severus, due to her incessant writhing, so let her relieve you. Orally, I think, so that I may observe her skill in pleasuring you."
I hate you, Tom Riddle.
"You heard the Dark Lord, Mudblood. On your knees before me."
As he unfastened the lower half of his coat and unzipped his trousers, Snape was suddenly relieved that they had done this once before and that Granger was not a complete novice at oral sex. It was no great debasement for him to have his cock out before the Dark Lord, for he was well-endowed, and revels were notorious for the obligatory group sex and mutual masturbation, he'd seen far more of his fellow Death Eater's genitals, both male and female, than he would ever wish to.
Severus sent a discreet wandless and non-verbal cushioning charm to the floor to protect her knees, and another, more unusual charm that would temporarily widen the inside of her throat so that she would be able to take more of his penis inside her mouth, for the Dark Lord would insist on her doing it properly, and he had no wish to choke the girl. There was no way she would be able to fit his full length in her mouth.
As she knelt before him, her back to Voldemort, she met his eyes, and what he saw there shattered his heart into a million pieces.
It was trust.
It wasn't fear, or anger, or humiliation – it was simply an understanding, complicit trust in what he was leading her to do. He forced his own countenance to remain neutral.
As his cock thrummed with the compulsion and his heart broke with the force of his guilt, Severus realised that he had badly underestimated his true feelings for this girl. His desire to protect her was so strong, that to see her in this position, degraded and at Voldemort's mercy, was causing him physical pain.
Her lips folded around his cock as if she'd done it a thousand times before. The hit of pleasure did nothing to take away the pain in his heart, but he simply needed to do as she had, to achieve his orgasm so that they would be free to go.
Roughly grabbing a handful of her curly hair to guide her movements, he was horrified to see Voldemort slide his silky black robes up to his hips, revealing his scaly white legs along with the fact that he wore no underwear. He moved his long-fingernailed hand to his bared crotch and began to masturbate to the sight of Severus receiving a forced blow-job.
The Dark Lord never disrobed himself during a revel, preferring to watch the exploits of his loyal followers and their captives. Severus, to his extreme disgust, now saw why.
Tom Riddle's cock looked malformed, as if something had gone wrong during his transition back to a corporeal body. It was like a squat mushroom stuck to his groin, which was completely smooth, no pubic hair whatsoever. Severus struggled not to vomit as Voldemort began to flick it with one finger, as it was not large enough for him to grasp with his hand. It looked like a tiny snail coming out of its wrinkled little shell. No wonder he kept it tightly under wraps.
Not daring to close his eyes, since anyone who did so in front of the Dark Lord was either suicidal or inordinately stupid, he looked down at Granger, sucking on his own cock in a blissfully tugging rhythm, holding his trousers open with her hands. If only they were in the privacy of his office, or bedchamber, and this succubus was gifting such pleasure upon him, it would be a transcendent experience.
Instead it was dirty – soiled by the odious presence and orders of a deformed madman.
He chanced a look up, and Riddle was masturbating in his strange, flickering fashion, jolting the blob of pale flesh that passed for a cock, breathing heavily with a strange rasping noise coming from his partly-open mouth. Severus looked away. He did not wish to see this.
As he wrenched his eyes from Voldemort, they darted instantly towards the door, alerted by a small movement. The door was opening. Who the fuck was here? He was instantly on high alert, and Granger felt it, as her eyes shot up towards him, full of alarm and questions.
The door only opened a small way, not enough to admit a person, but it didn't need to. A giant snake came slithering through the gap, moving herself noiselessly across the floor towards her master, who was far too absorbed in chasing his own orgasm to notice the entrance of his familiar.
Severus felt in his cloak for the Basilisk fang.
