deficiency
[2]

"Tell me, Miss Granger, where did you get this idea?"

Hermione tested the silken bonds, tugging hard with both hands until she felt certain the knot was tight. "In a book," she answered brightly, smiling up at Severus who was likewise examining the firm knots. "There's an excellent one that I found in the Black study, it goes into this whole thing with fantastic detail. There were diagrams and everything!"

Yes, he could imagine. "There are several very good literary resources on this certain branch of Dark Magic. Unsurprisingly, due to human's obsession with procreation, it's often the one most studied. And I must say that for a beginner, you show promise but you lack forethought."

Hermione frowned instantly. "How so?"

"Your knots. Far too tight, they'll cut off blood flow. Not to mention these positions are often discussed with a partner to be certain everything is…satisfying. I'd much prefer to keep your legs apart, rather than together."

She wriggled her toes, and glanced down at her long legs, which had been wrapped together with more silk ribbon. "I suppose…" Hermione trailed off uncertainly.

Snape untied the ribbons around her wrists and knees, and then spread the articles out on the bedspread. "Silk, while much more appealing to the eye, is infinitely more dangerous than normal rope. The knots cinch and doesn't release easily, unless you have time to pick them apart, which I most certainly do not."

"The book recommended them," Hermione insisted. "And handcuffs, as well."

He raised an eyebrow. "That book sounds rather outdated. I would hazard a guess that it expects the submissive partner to be a literal footstool to the dominant partner, as well as suggests blood bonds and other such things."

Hermione's brow furrowed.

"Lie back on the bed," Snape ordered, loosening his ascot. "Let me handle this."

Grudgingly, his former student lay back and held her arms above her head. Snape corrected her without a word, pushing her arms out to the side. His wand flicked and Conjured several long lengths of soft hemp rope, which he used to secure Hermione to the bedposts. She watched him with narrow, untrusting eyes and he quirked a brow as he worked on the knots.

"This is very unorthodox," he prodded.

"I want to try it," Hermione said stubbornly. "I don't mind my hands being tied, it's sort of fun."

"Securing one's hands with a necktie is far different than pinning one down to a bed without the ability to move," he warned flatly.

"Shut up and tie my foot," Hermione snapped, lifting her leg and shaking it.

Silently, Snape resumed binding her to the mattress, keeping her arms and legs apart. There was little, if any, wiggle room, although he checked to be sure the knots weren't cutting into her skin. Lingering for a moment at her soft, smooth foot, he waited. "Well?"

"A gag," Hermione prompted. "The book was very explicit about that."

"No," Snape bit back, "Absolutely not."

"Severus, please, I want to try this! It's exciting."

"Not for your first time."

"If you don't, I'll do my best impression of Dumbledore the whole time," Hermione threatened. "Moans and everything."

"I would find myself unable to sustain an erection for the rest of my life," Snape said dryly.

"Exactly! So for the sake of your genitals and my curiosity, stuff a gag in my mouth, if you please."

Sighing, Severus flicked his wand and Conjured a quick gag, which Hermione eagerly opened her mouth for. Stepping back, he surveyed his trussed prize, which he admitted was far more beautiful than he would have originally thought. This wasn't the first time he had seen a bound submissive, but there was an eager, curious light gleaming in Hermione's eyes which he never saw; normally the captive in question had either a crazed, hyper-stimulated glare or a dull, dazed expression. Neither of which appealed to him in the slightest. No, there was something…primal about this whole thing; bound and gagged, he could do whatever he pleased. Even if what he pleased was sit in a corner and read, or spank the living daylights out of her, he could do either without repercussion.

He ran a hand down her ribcage, smoothing her thick bushy hair away from her shoulders. Her breasts, perky and beckoning, magnetized him and he couldn't resist suckling on one briefly. She arched her back and closed her eyes, almost preening at this display of attention.

There was another benefit to having Hermione bound like this—he could take his time. Hermione was insatiable, and her hands roamed constantly; an enthusiastic and appreciative lover was something he was unused to having, not to mention one who was much younger than he, and therefore had a shorter recovery time. He trailed a finger down between her breasts, the pads of his fingers tracing invisible outlines on her skin.

He knelt on the bed and slipped a hand between her legs, stroking her sopping quim. She squirmed violently and made a muffled noise through the gag; Snape looked up and saw the tinted pink cheeks, the curious expression giving way to a hot-eyed arousal.

Hermione struggled to slow her breathing. There was panic fluttering at the edges of her thoughts—Snape wouldn't hurt her. But he could hurt her, very easily, secured in this position, and although that thought seemed incredibly arousing, it was also terrifying.

Those wickedly agile fingers manipulated her and she groaned into the gag once more. There was nothing she could touch—part of what she liked about sex with Snape was the ability to touch someone freely. Under normal circumstances, Hermione detested physical contact aside from the occasional hugs or handshakes, but given the opportunity she loved to explore. Skin against skin was a massively comforting feeling, and being deprived of that was tipping something in the mind.

Something was building in her, either a scream or an orgasm, she wasn't sure which. One more touch and she would die—she needed something to touch, she wanted to close her legs, cover her chest.

Snape bit down on a nipple and she cried out in fright. The cliff was right there, right at the edge, and there was nothing to comfort her or keep her grounded, nothing but bedsheets and that horrible, horrible stimulation, the overwhelming arousal.

Abruptly, the ropes vanished, and she instantly curled into a ball.

"Stop!"

Silence, just runaway heartbeats and breathing. Hermione's cheeks were wet, and she instantly reached out and grabbed Snape's forearm. She pressed his palm flat and he knitted their fingers together as she fought to keep herself under control.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, and she couldn't bear to look at his face.

"Breathe," he ordered, ignoring the apology. "Relax. You're not hurt, Miss Granger."

"I know," Hermione said, and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "I know, I know. B-but…you could have."

Snape prickled, and she could feel his hurt indignation. "You think so little of me, Miss Granger?"

"I know you wouldn't!" Hermione cried, looking up to meet his eyes finally. "It was just…too much."

He felt guilty. She could see it in his eyes, the hard set of his mouth.

"It's not your fault," she swallowed hard, "I…I wanted to try it, I'm so sorry."

"And I let you," he growled. "This is no fault of your own."

"I just…the book made it seem so easy, that it would be…"

"Miss Granger, you trust books entirely too much," Snape snapped. "There are some sources of information that must be discredited. I can speak from experience that this must be broached slowly. Carefully. It is not something to rush into."

She nodded. "I like…I like touching something," Hermione finally admitted. "Someone."

Snape hated being touched.

Hermione seemed to sense this, and let go of his hand.

"Harry, you really need to stop this. You've been trying to incinerate Malfoy's head for an hour now."

Ginny tucked a long strand of fiery red hair behind her ear and resumed filing her report. Harry, whose boots were propped on the desk and quill was snapped in the drawer, had given up on the blasted papers several hours ago and instead decided to glare at Malfoy across the room. The blonde was chatting guilelessly with some innocent secretary, who no doubt found his slimy weasel face attractive, because she was blushing and had discreetly unbuttoned a button.

For some reason, this irked him.

"Why is he here," Harry grumbled under his breath. Ginny poked him with a quill.

"Because it's a job. And he needs one. Merlin knows the Malfoy family's in enough financial trouble," Ginny murmured, scratching away dutifully.

"What do you mean? The Malfoy's are rich as goblins," Harry groused.

"Not anymore. After the war they hit some rocky issues and they don't have nearly enough pull as they once did. Not to mention Narcissa's gone back to work since Lucius is under house arrest, so they're quite poor." Ginny said, sweetly malevolent and satisfied.

"Serves them right," he said, and doodled on a scrap of parchment.

"Harry," Ginny said, exasperated, "please fill out your reports. I need to hand them over to Captain Robards by this afternoon, and you're the last one in the squad to finish."

"You're still doing yours," Harry pointed out.

"Only because I had to fill out Elphabias's this morning, he apparently drank something from a funny cauldron and is laid up in St. Mungo's with vanishing tonsils. Get on it. You're making the whole team look bad."

Harry shot one last death glare at Malfoy and pulled his heavy stack of papers towards him. There were some very unglamorous parts of being an Auror.

"Potter!"

Harry jerked awake, his glasses sliding off the end of his nose and cracking on the edge of his desk. Above him, leaning over the desk, was apparently Draco Malfoy, although the face was very blurry; Harry rubbed his eyes and fumbled around for his glasses.

"You haven't turned in your paperwork yet," Malfoy sneered. "Funny, I thought you'd be a little more on top of this job."

"I am on top!" Harry said, outraged. "I was up all night and I didn't have time during the day—"

"Personal matters aside, you're overdue for your report, otherwise you'll have to give it orally," Malfoy said with a curl of his upper lip. "And I don't think you want that, I hear Robard's very hard to handle."

"I can handle anything," Harry said, getting up and stabbing a finger toward's Malfoy's face. "And by the way, don't think I haven't seen you flirting with Ginny. Stay away from her, d'you hear? Otherwise I'll have to put some of my Auror training to good use."

"Are you threatening me, Mr. Potter?" Malfoy exclaimed, sounding mockingly surprised. "I'll have to write you up a chit for that."

"You're a chit," Harry growled.

"Girls!" Ginny shouted, smacking them both on the back of the head. "You've both got lovely dresses, now stop getting your knickers in a twist. Malfoy, if there's any punishments to be handed out, that's my job. Run along and fetch Shacklebolt's tea for him, like a good little lackey."

Malfoy's pale cheeks reddened but he did as he was told, turning and hurrying out of the room, his dark green robes billowing behind him.

"I had that under control," Harry protested.

"And you," Ginny said, rounding on him, "stop antagonizing Malfoy and fill out the damned paperwork! You're fantastic in the field, Harry, but you blow the little things off, like you always do. You're behind on reports as it is, and if you don't finish them by tomorrow morning I will have to write you up for it. Now get cracking!"

Harry watched his former girlfriend storm from the room, and threw his inkpot in a high bad temper. Dully, he poked the splattered ink with his wand to clean it up, and began writing.

"I'm telling you, they were inches away from snogging," Ginny told Luna furtively. "I thought for certain Harry was going to haul him across the desk!"

"Harry's got a lot of negative energy bottled up," Luna said, her eyes huge and luminous behind the goggles she was wearing. The potions research lab was always full of odd smells and queer potions, and Ginny had to jump in order to avoid splatters from bubbling cauldrons.

"Well, it's been hard. I mean, for us to be working so close together," Ginny admitted, tugging on her ear. "Plus this whole thing with Hermione and Snape has got him a bit fuddled."

"I told Hermione that, once," Luna noted. "Snape is a very even-tempered man, but she didn't believe me."

Ginny ate a crisp and swiveled around on Luna's chair once more. "He's evenly bad tempered, I suppose," she shrugged. "but if Hermione's happy I don't mind. I don't know what she saw in my brother, honestly."

"Your brother can be a bit unkind, but he means well," Luna said, eye-dropping a thimbleful of bright pink liquid into an empty cauldron. "Not to mention he's very fetching."

The redhead choked. "My brother?"

Luna blinked. "All of your brothers. Ron especially."

Ginny shook her head. "Luna, do you have a torch going for my brother?"

She cocked her head to one side. "If he were to ask me to accompany him for an evening, I wouldn't turn him down," Luna said honestly.

The Auror finished off her bag of crisps. "Ron would never ask you out," she assured Luna. "He's not…I mean, he doesn't really see your qualities."

"I know," Luna said sanguinely, "not many people do."

Ginny was overcome with a strange wave of both pity and admiration for Luna—it was an emotion she knew well. She pulled on her coat. "Come on," she insisted, "let's go for a drink. Should we talk to Harry? I mean, he's definitely got a thing for Malfoy."

"Perhaps we should give them a bit of a nudge," Luna said thoughtfully, washing her hands. "Harry's has too much going on in his mind right now, and perhaps a date with a friend will help alleviate that."

"If we set them up on a date, they'll be at each other's throats," Ginny sighed. "Maybe we could just drop little hints."

"Yes," Luna agreed, "subtlety is best."

The next morning, Harry came to work and found an enormous, splashy bouquet of roses on his desk, with a note attached.

To: Harry Potter
From: Draco Malfoy
Hope you like them! 3

Harry's reaction is perhaps better imagined than described.

Can't write Luna for the life of me.

Would also like to note that I don't take the whole BDSM thing lightly at all, it scares the shit out of me to tackle such a big and tricky subject. It's so often misportrayed I'd like to get it right, but since I don't usually get tied down and spanked I need to do three buttloads of research.-nylex