The screaming is what woke Hermione from her restless slumber. The bed was soaked in sweat and tears and her body ached. Oh gods, she hurt. Professor Snape had been a nasty man his entire tenure of teaching and his detentions were infamous. But this… this repulsive side of the man was a side no one should ever have to know.

Hermione had jumped out of bed, reaching beneath her pillow for a wand that she'd likely never have again. She was naked and alone– terrified of the noises that were coming from the bathroom. Her heart hammered in her chest, blood flowing to all her appendages as she prepared to fight.

Snape wasn't here. Is he responsible for the screams? She was left alone… she could try to run again…

The door slammed open, crashing against the wall. Hermione let out a shriek as she jumped back, banging her head into the wall beside the bed. This… this man was not Snape. Long dark hair hung limply around his sallow face. His snarl was so fierce, that when mixed with his completely black eyes, he looked like a feral beast that could rip her throat out. He simply stared at her, shoulders hunched, pulling his disheveled robes tightly over the muscle, and black eyes locked on his prey.

She started to move. Maybe she could roll under the bed? Delay the inevitable for a bit? Perhaps she could find some sort of weapon…

The wizard let out a deep growl that was more reminiscent of a transformed werewolf than any human noise.

"On the bed."

The words were whispered, dripping with disdain, as he walked closer to her. Hermione noted how sickly he looked. He wasn't hunched to be menacing, he was in pain. It must be the curse Dolohov was speaking about. Just what exactly would it do?

Snape crossed an arm over his belly, as if bracing himself would provide relief as he stiffly walked towards her, hissing with every step. He was clearly in horrible, unimaginable pain. Hermione would have cared, if this were Professor Snape.

The Professor Snape that saved Harry during that quidditch match back in first year.

The Professor Snape that created the clever riddle that protected the philosopher's stone.

The one who threw himself in front of a fully transformed werewolf, pulling her tightly behind his own body to spare her the pain of the beast.

The same Snape that Dumbledore trusted— the one that was supposed to bring about her freedom.

She would have helped that man, gladly laid down her life for that man.

But that Professor Snape no longer existed. He was a figment of her imagination. No one was going to save her, certainly not this man who was practically salivating at the thought of consuming her.

No. She wouldn't help this man. He was undeserving of even the smallest form of empathy. He made his bed… but now she was the one who would have to lie in it.

She raised her chin, frowning as she carefully crawled into the bed. Perhaps if she didn't fight as much, it would be over quicker. Hermione centered herself in the large four poster bed. It had more than enough room for… well, for this. Her bottom lip quivered as she crossed her arms over her chest. Half for modesty, but also because she wanted him to know if he took her… it was in body only. She was a corpse… one that would lie there and take what he wanted but wouldn't break. She'd protect her mind at all cost.

The bed groaned as his body sank onto it. She whimpered, turning her head to the side to avoid his penetrating gaze. She could feel the heat radiating off his body– he was feverish. She could feel his skin brush against hers. He had taken his robes off. Hermione bit her lip as the tears started to fall. This felt different and she couldn't understand why.

It's in a bed. He's naked. It's more intimate. Hermione groaned when his sweaty chest brushed against her own.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

His lips tickled the outside of her ear, hot breath making the little flyaway hairs dance across her cheek as he leaned in to whisper to her.

"Turn over. I don't want to see your disgusting, wretched body as I fuck you."

Hermione sobbed. Why did that hurt so much? Why was she still desperate to get this man's approval? She willed her body to listen… to roll over and just take what he was going to give her regardless of her feelings or consent. But she couldn't. Her limbs were too heavy and her chest was too tight.

Snape was evidently displeased with her hesitation. "Oh for fucksake," he growled, grabbing her waist and flipping her over roughly. His knees pressed against her thighs, spreading her enough for him to settle beneath her. Again, he rubbed himself between her folds, and again, he was angry by her lack of desire.

"Just once in my fucking life–" he muttered to himself.

Hermione felt him crush her legs as he leaned over the bed, fishing through his clothing for his wand. His weight shifted between her again as he resettled himself, pressing the dark wood between her legs.

"Praelino," he breathed.

Hermione shivered as she felt the lubrication charm take effect. It felt unnaturally slick. Never in her life had she ever been aroused to this extent. She squirmed beneath him, biting the pillow when she felt him grind against her sex once more.

Don't fight him on this. Just let it happen. It'll be over soon. Remember… you're the victim. You've done nothing wrong.

Snape moaned, as he sank into her, his arms shaking as he supported himself on the matress. Hermione thought, bitterly, that he sounded like he was thoroughly enjoying himself– like he was sinking into a hot bath after a long day. She buried her face in the pillow.

Maybe she could just suffocate herself.

He just laid there, his body crushing hers as he was buried to the hilt, breathing and sweating on her. She was growing restless as she waited.

Just fucking move. Merlin. Just get this over with.

Finding no other option, she arched her back, driving him a bit deeper into her as she whimpered.

"Oh fuck," he groaned. "The little cub wants to play, does she?" He shifted, moving to lay down on her fully so his hands could wrap around her wrists. He bent a leg, forcing her own even wider as he pressed deeper inside. "Oh, yes. You feel so good for me. So hot… so tight. It's so much better when you don't fight, isn't it? When you just give in and give your body what it craves?"

He was like a different man all of a sudden. Never in her life would she have suspected such lascivious comments to escape her dour professor's mouth. It unnerved her. How could he act so differently? Was his goal to drive her insane?

Suddenly, he shifted, angling his pelvis just enough to hit her there.

"Oh," she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as her face bloomed. "No… please, no." She cried. She didn't want to find pleasure in this act. Not with him… not like this.

"That's right, Pet," he chuckled deeply, belly bumping against her behind as he laughed at her. "I know all the ways to make you scream." He leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"From pleasure," he moved his hips again, brushing against the spongy spot that made her see stars, "or from pain," he reached around, pinching her nipple and twisting it as he thrust inside her again.

Hermione yelped, trying her hardest to move away from him but he was just too heavy. She wanted to distract herself but his pace was relentless. She soon found herself unable to think of anything else besides her building orgasm. Her face was flushed with her own humiliation. What sort of sick woman gets off on this?

It's a natural bodily reaction… there's nothing you can do about it. It's not your fault. Remember that and fight like hell to keep your sanity.

A sharp slap came down across her arse, making her clench around him as she yelped. "Get on your hands and knees," he commanded, stopping his thrusts just long enough to move. Snape had gathered her hair into a ponytail, grabbing it harshly and pulling her head back sharply. She hissed at the burning sensation. A large hand reached around, plucking at her nipples again before dipping between her legs to circle her clitoris.

"Oh, oh no…" she gasped.

"Oh yes, little cub. You can convince yourself all you want that you aren't enjoying this, but I haven't had a witch this wet and wanton in a long time. Your cunt. Doesn't. Lie." he growled, pistoning inside her over and over, his finger quickening its circles as she bit her lip and moaned.

"Yes, witch! Don't hide your whimpers. I want them. Give them to me," he commanded. He laughed as she whimpered. His voice was light and full of amusement when he spoke again. "Can you hear that, cub? Can you hear how wet your cunt is? She's louder than your little whimpers are. She wants to be full of my seed… can't you tell? Can you feel how your body is clenching around my cock? It wants me… just give in and admit it… tell me… tell me you're going to come."

He started thrusting with a new sense of urgency and she could tell he was close. He let go of her hair, thrusting a finger in her mouth, before she could even process what was happening, he removed it, shoving it inside her arse. Oh god. The burn… the stretch… she wanted to hate it…she really did. But he kept hitting that spot, rubbing her clit… the new sensation was just too much.

She wailed as her orgasm took her. Breathless and ashamed, she let the tears flow as the man behind her continued to over stimulate her until he finally grunted in release. He remained inside for a moment, a shiver ran through him which, in turn, jostled him within her walls. He sniffed before pulling out, dropping her exhausted body onto the bed like a pile of dirty laundry.

Wordlessly, he retreated to the bathroom. As soon as she heard the pipes groan and the spray of the shower, she pulled herself into a ball and cried until sleep once again took her.

XOX

"Put some clothes on," he barked, tossing a pair of pants and a t-shirt to her.

They were clearly his own undergarments but were soft and covered her nudity. At least she wouldn't have to put that damned pillowcase back on. She sat up tenderly, body screaming as she pulled the clothes to her chest, covering her body from him. Snape snorted.

"Hurry up. You have work to do."

Once she was dressed, she wobbled off the bed, standing and waiting tentatively for whatever commands he would have. Her head spun and she saw little black flecks in her vision. She reached back for the mattress to still her spinning mind.

"When have you last eaten?" he asked angrily.

"I–" she had to stop and clear her throat, it burned from all the screaming she had done and was rusty from disuse. "I don't know."

He huffed, crossing his arms in irritation. "Kreacher!" he barked, summoning the house elf to his quarters. "Some broth for my new pet. I can't have the stupid chit fainting instead of working." The elf sneered at her before nodding once to the headmaster and disappearing with a pop.

Hermione lowered her eyes. A brief flash of hope had bloomed in her tummy when she first heard the elf's name but that was snuffed out quickly. She supposed since Harry… she swallowed. With Harry gone, Kreacher would move on to Bellatrix, if he remained loyal to the Blacks. Or perhaps he belonged to Snape as Headmaster? Regardless, he wouldn't help. He never liked her much anyway.

"Go sit at the table and eat. I shall be there shortly to discuss your duties."

Hermione lowered her eyes and padded over to the sofa, sitting down behind the small coffee table where Kreacher had left her broth. She didn't have an appetite, not with his seed sticking to her thighs and her unsurmountable self-hatred. She sat there, staring into the clear, yellowish broth, watching as whispers of steam rose and disappeared.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but the black-clad wizard returned, teaching robes billowing behind him in that terrifying bat-like way. He came to a stop in front of her, looking down his nose and scowling.

Honestly, was he capable of any other expression? She blushed deeply as she recalled another, more intimate expression he just recently made. She averted her gaze to the broth.

"Eat," he demanded. "Or I will imperious you to do so."

Something snapped in her, she tried to keep the words from spilling but they spewed out before she could prevent it. "Why do you care?" She snapped.

Snape raised a hand, once again bringing it across her cheek. "Have you learned nothing in our time together thus far?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to calm his breathing. Hermione looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Don't look at me," he growled. Thankfully, she obeyed. After a moment he continued. "I care because I don't want a brittle, weak witch. I also don't like a battered witch who flinches all the time, so I suggest you stop forcing me to raise my hand to you. Now," he started pacing, fingers laced behind his back as he eyed her first, then her soup— a silent demand.

She obeyed this time.

"You will have several duties while you are here," he was using his Professor voice which, unfortunately, compelled Hermione to not only listen attentively, but straighten her spine and wish for a quill to take notes. "You will clean my rooms until I deem them adequate. You shall do as you're told, immediately. Once I am assured of your unwavering compliance… you shall start to clean the rest of the castle with… the others. You will have three meals a day, with an adequate caloric intake that I will personally oversee. I will not have you fainting and embarrassing me. Do as I ask… and perhaps…" he paused, turning to look her in the eye, "you shall be rewarded." He drew himself up to his full height as he walked to her. "Now. Eat. And then you can start cleaning the bathroom."

Hermione lifted the spoon to her lips, blowing softly to cool it before she started to eat. The broth filled her stomach, just enough to not make her sick, which in hindsight was a blessing. Her body had been through so much stress in a short amount of time. It was nice to just sit and enjoy the broth, pretending everything was fine.

As soon as she was finished, she stood up and walked to the loo, prepared to get to work. She looked around the chambers, searching for Snape but blessedly, it seems she would be left to her own devices. She wouldn't try to escape, not again. Not for a while at least. She walked into the loo and practically ran to use the toilet. She whimpered as she released her bladder, it burned horribly. Maybe, if she was lucky, Snape would heal her again.

Would it always hurt so much? Surely, her body would grow used to his invasions? The second time hurt less. Perhaps if she just relaxed a bit more… thought of something else?

She stood, pulling Snape's borrowed pants back up and set to work. He had left her a bucket and brushes, as well as some other cleaning supplies. She set the bucket inside the bath and turned on the taps, watching it fill quickly. She looked longingly at the tub, wanting nothing more than to wash off the blood, grime, and semen that coated her body. She considered bathing anyway, but likely he'd notice and beat her for it. Something inside her wanted to please him, to see what sort of reward she'd be given. And she definitely didn't want to miss the opportunity to see her friends. She needed to make sure Ginny was okay, especially after having the displeasure of meeting Dolohov again.

Her body was screaming for a break by the time the wizard showed back up. He walked onto the wet floor, leaving boot prints on the newly cleaned tile. He scanned the room, a tired look on his face. With a sigh, he turned and walked back to the bed, sitting down and pulling off his boots. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pinched his nose and called to her.

"Come here, Granger," he sighed.

Hermione gathered her strength and stood, wiping her wet hands across the shorts. Her white shirt was wet from the work, and clung to her chest. The witch might have been too tired to notice, but the wizard certainly did. His eyebrows rose in surprise before he quickly looked back to the floor.

"Your work was… adequate."

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes and hex his bollocks off. She had never worked so hard in her entire life. Her knees were bruised from crawling around all damn day, fingers pruned from being waterlogged and her hair was a giant frizz ball.

"I've left you a toothbrush and some other essentials. Brush your teeth, and for Merlin sake, bathe. Then you can retire for the evening."

She was so excited to soak in that tub that she didn't even care he implied she smelled. She squeaked a "yes sir," before turning around and running back into the bathroom to start filling the tub. She closed the door, only to have it kicked open.

"Wha—" she started to scream before clamping her lips shut. Snape's eyes were burning again, and she was starting to realize his temper was even worse than she expected.

"No closed doors, Granger. Privacy is a privilege you haven't earned."

She wanted to protest. With the door open, he could easily watch her bathe from the bed. Snape snorted again, as if he read her mind. "I have no desire to leer. I am tired and had a very trying day with your new Lord. I wish to sleep. So… bathe quickly and come to bed," he demanded.

"The— the bed?"

Would he take her again? She didn't want—

"Bathe, Granger. Before I change my mind." Snape turned and walked back to the bed. Hermione watched as he walked stiffly towards the wardrobe, pulling from it a faded grey nightshirt. She peeled off her own clothes before quickly getting into the bath, moaning softly when she felt how lovely the water was. She chanced a glance up at the wizard, just in time to watch him pull off his shirt.

She frowned, watching as he grimaced while lifting his arms up. His back was bloodied and irritated, as if he had been beaten. Just what had he been up to all day? If that was how Voldemort treated his followers, what sort of torture was she in for?

She hurried and washed, scrubbing a bit too harshly between her legs. But she couldn't feel clean. Her skin was bright red and sore, and she still felt him between her thighs. Giving up, she drained the tub, drying off quickly with a scratchy towel and putting the discarded clothing back on.

She tiptoed, noticing Snape appeared to be asleep, and headed for the sofa. Maybe he wouldn't notice…

A hand darted out, grabbing her tightly around the wrist. "Bed, Granger," he murmured. She sniffled, not having any more tears to shed. She had to climb over him to get onto the opposite side of the bed which she found humiliating. His hand trailed up her thigh and around to her bum which he promptly squeezed. She clenched her eyes shut, waiting for him to take her roughly. Instead, he pulled back the covers and gestured for her to get beneath them. She rolled to her side, facing the wall and attempting to make herself as small as possible.

Snape rolled against her, pulling her body against his tightly, almost like lovers. He wrapped an arm around her waist and started grinding against her bum. She stiffened, not having the energy to fight any more. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear, so softly that she almost missed it.

"There are eyes everywhere."