AN:
Beta love to the amazing Bondgirltrb, as always!
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Hi guys! As I write this, I am also working on two other WIPS. Some good news for all of the Snamione lovers out there... I'm participating in a trope fest! So be on the look out for that piece, which should be released in May sometime!
Thanks for sticking with me this far! I'm loving all the comments, theories, and kudos!
Appreciate you all 3
XOX
Day 6
Snape was rudely awakened by the sun shining in his eyes. He squinted and attempted to roll over, wanting a few more minutes rest, but there was nowhere to roll. He slowly opened an eye, taking in his surroundings. With a groan, he slid his legs off the sofa and arched his back. The subsequent pops and cracks that ran down his spine helped him to feel less stiff, although after all the years of abuse he had experienced, his body rarely woke up in anything other than pain.
Bladder screaming, he started toward the bathroom, but noticed the girl was still resting– almost peacefully. He had watched her over the past week, and rarely had she looked as innocent as she did now. He didn't want to wake her from her gentle dreams just to live in a nightmare. He cast a silencing bubble around the girl so he could move about his rooms without fear of waking her. She had enough to deal with. For now, he'd let her sleep while he attended to other important matters.
Burning the fucking portraits being his number one priority.
The ginger witch, his second.
After a much needed shower, Snape dressed in his full teaching regalia, knowing full-well how intimidating it made him, and strode into his office.
"Albus," he growled. "Black, Derwent, Swott, Fitzgerald." Snape stood in the middle of his office, arms crossed over his heaving chest as his eyes burned in fury.
"Would any of you care to explain," he started, voice cold in anger, "why I, as Headmaster, was not immediately informed that there was no conceivable way… that this office could, in fact, be monitored?"
There was a hushed whisper amongst the portraits, all looking nervous and apprehensive about what this new Headmaster would do.
"No one? How disappointing." He pointed his wand at the hearth and started a fire. "Perhaps I don't have need for your counsel afterall." He moved to grab a painting off the wall before Dilys Derwent spoke up.
"Please! No. We–we tried to tell you when you came back injured."
"You weren't in any frame of mind to listen to us then," Fitzgerald chimed in. The wizard scowled, it was hardly an excuse. Why wouldn't they tell him at another time then?
"Albus?" Snape turned to look at his old mentor. "Care to add to our conversation?"
"It has sealed your position with Tom, has it not?"
"I beg your pardon?" onyx eyes flashed to Dumbledore's painted ones.
"You are a great actor, Severus. But even you have limitations of what you can show convincingly. Yes, you can deceive Tom. But now, you have witnesses to your brutality. Things you would have talked your way out of performing had you known the truth. It is better this way."
"I should burn you right now," Snape growled.
"There will always be another portrait, my boy. I had several commissioned. I know your ire too well," he chuckled. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Severus. Miss Granger is a bright witch. She will forgive you when the time comes."
"Yes, I'm sure she will be crying over my grave with the rest of the order when they learn of my poor, tragic life, Albus," Snape said bitterly. "Kreacher!" he barked.
The House-elf appeared with a pop. "Dark Headmaster wishes to speak to Kreacher?"
"When the girl wakes, give her whatever she wants to eat. Inform her she is to read the texts I have provided and wait for my return in the bedroom. She is not to leave."
The old House-elf nodded his head in understanding, before disappearing with a snap of his fingers. Snape made for the door, only to be stopped by Albus once more.
"Severus? Don't be a fool– Miss Granger should not be treated any differently than she has been."
"She knows almost everything now."
"She what?" The portrait gasped, Albus standing from his chair and moving as close to the frame as possible. Gone were the grandfatherly twinkling eyes. Severus moved closer, smirking.
"She knows. I told her."
"You cannot risk Tom discovering the Order, Severus! If he ever found out about–"
"He won't. She doesn't know who is involved. Just that there is a plan. The girl needed hope, Albus."
"False hope is a terrible thing, if it's the only thing keeping you alive you'll be dead by dawn," the headmaster retorted.
"I'm dead either way, Albus. The girl deserves a chance to escape this. Should she beat the odds and lived, I'd prefer her to not be broken." With a flourish of his cloak, Snape left the office and left for the front gates. He needed to ask for an audience with the Dark Lord and Dolohov– he had a new slave to train.
"And what does the rest of the world deserve, Severus? You've already broken your vow to her, when you allowed her son to go into the forest unprepared. It is on your soul that Tom stands where he does now."
Snape growled, sweeping an arm over his desk, knocking over all of his work; glass trinkets and phials fell to the ground, yet another victim from his anger. His eyes burned, tears threatening to form from the cruel words that were spoken. Dumbledore knew exactly what Snape had sacrificed over the years in order to pay for his mistakes. He would do anything to remove even a tarnish of dark from his soul. Yet, somehow he knew that could never happen. He was a dark wizard. Fear, pain, and death followed him everywhere, regardless of his choices. For every good deed, he had to condemn himself to two dastardly ones. Still, if he could hold out, just a little longer, perhaps he could end this war once and for all, and finally earn himself peace in his afterlife.
"I wish I could kill you again, Albus. I'd take more pleasure from it this time." Snape walked around, setting his desk back to rights and ignoring the little chuckle from behind his shoulder. That damned wizard could still manipulate him, even after death.
XOX
Hermione had never felt more relaxed in her life. Okay, that was probably an exaggeration, but she certainly hadn't slept that well in over a year. She was always in a state of half-rest, unsure if she would be targeted while she was vulnerable. Now, she had slept peacefully knowing the man beside her was willing and able to protect her, at least a bit.
She rolled out of bed, still dressed in Snape's transfigured clothing. Padding to the bathroom, she relieved herself, brushed her teeth and returned back to the bedroom. There was a loud pop which brought forth Kreacher once more. Her heart tugged a bit– his presence reminded her that Harry was gone.
"Headmaster wants the Mudblood to eat," he grumbled. "Tell Kreacher your wishes and he will get it."
Hermione winced at the term but was able to ask for some more of her typical gruel and toast.
"The Headmaster wishes for you to eat well," Kreacher enunciated.
"That's all I want, thank you."
The elf rolled his eyes, popping off to return a few minutes later with her bowl full of porridge with fresh fruit sliced on top, a cup of hot tea made to perfection, and some sausages. Her stomach growled loudly as she sat down to start eating.
"Mudblood is to stay in these rooms until the Headmaster returns. Headmaster wishes for the Mudblood to read what he has given her and wait for his return."
"Thank you," Hermione muttered. Kreacher was certainly behaving differently. Perhaps she could trust Snape. He had said she wouldn't have to do as much manual labor anymore, and it seemed he was making good of his word.
She grabbed one of the books Snape had given her and started reading as she ate in the silence. She wanted to impress him, show him she was a powerful witch that could be trusted. Because, afterall, she needed to know what the plan was if she were to keep her sanity any longer.
Her breakfast tray had come and gone; Hermione found herself curled up in Snape's bed under the covers when Snape had returned. Her eyes were closed and her breathing deep. She was clearing her mind– picturing the Black Lake as she sunk all of her feelings and fears into the murky depths.
"Enjoying your lie-in?" His baritone voice broke through, startling her eyes open. She was afraid he was angry, but she found his eyes to be glittering, almost amused.
"I-I'm sorry, Sir." She scrambled to sit up, feeling awkward about lying on his side of the bed. "I was studying."
"I noticed."
"You– were you trying legilimency on me?"
"A smaller, more gentle intrusion than I had been taking previously," he offered. "We will be having guests soon, Miss Granger. I need to ask you to, once again, play your part."
She paled, palms sweaty at the prospect of who was coming. Was it Voldemort? What was she going to have to do? Could she–
"Calm your mind, Granger. That's precisely what is going to get us killed," he reminded, almost gently. "Dolohov is bringing his pet for a visit. I am to train her over the next few days to see if she can't be broken in, much like you yourself should be. I need you to be on your best behavior. I need you to follow my every command. Do not forget your place or role in this, Granger. My brand is on your arm. You are meant to be compliant and broken– a shell of yourself. Can you do that, or do I need to curse you again?"
"Will we– that is to say— the last time he was in your office sir… he– he wanted to—"
Snape raised a hand, silencing her. "I do not foresee that happening again, although–" he paused, looking sheepish. Hermione nodded, hopefully encouraging him to continue. "Given the fact I was cursed twice last night… it wouldn't go amiss for him to wish you to be more… injured," he sighed, hanging his head low.
"Do you need to hit me, sir?" she frowned.
"I do not make it a habit to hit women," he snarled. "Although…Would you permit me to try something?"
Hermione nodded her head.
"I would need to touch your person. Do you… consent?"
She was curious now, extremely thankful for him asking her permission. Perhaps they could always get along this well, even when the curse took him over once more. She stepped forward, raising her eyes to his, openly displaying her trust for him.
He reached out, slowly, wrapping his hands around her neck, loosely. "Contusio," he whispered. Hermione felt a slight warming beneath his hands. He released her, moving to cup her jaw, then her right wrist, each time, muttering the spell. When he released her for the last time, she noticed what he had been doing– bruising her superficially. Ingenious, really. He stared at her a bit longer, eyes tracking over her body in such a way that she wanted to squirm. He reached up, releasing her hair from the elastic that she had placed that morning, leaving her hair to fall in an extremely unkempt way. He leaned back then, index finger running across his lower lip as he continued to look at his work.
"That should be sufficient enough, I should presume. I'll need to change your clothes back, unfortunately."
"I understand."
"And–" he swallowed deeply, averting his eyes as he continued to speak. "If you could… adjust your gait. It would be further evidence to our… situation that we would've found ourselves in."
Oh Merlin. He needed her to look and act thoroughly ravished. She blushed, knowing exactly how she should walk, seeing as she limped horribly after every time he took her as her womanhood tried to heal itself.
"Yes, sir."
"Good." Snape cleared his throat, pointing his wand at her to change her clothes back. "I trust I don't need to tell you to keep this new knowledge from Miss Weasley?" He raised a threatening eyebrow at her.
"No, sir."
"Good. I think it would be wise for you to be scrubbing something when he arrives."
She nodded, grabbing the bucket she had used the day before, lowering herself to her knees to start scrubbing.
"Oh, and one more thing, Miss Granger– just to make it as realistic as possible."
She looked up to his wand pointing at her chest. With one more murmured spell, he turned and left. Hermione looked down to see he had placed a bite mark on one of her breasts, barely visible above the frock she now wore, but it would be there if one needed to look. She felt herself blush once more, this time, she wasn't sure what emotion she was feeling.
XOX
"Snape," the man called out from behind the door. "Let us in, mate." Snape sighed, rising from his chair to walk over to the door. The very first thing he was going to do once the castle was in working order, was to call that damned gargoyle back to watching the Head's Office.
He flicked his wand, allowing the heavy door to swing open. Dolohov shoved the girl ahead of him, she tripped over her feet and smacked her head on the hard floor. The girl struggled, but turned her head, snarling as if she wanted to hex the Death Eater. Snape flicked his wand, silencing the girl so she wouldn't earn a real punishment.
"Where's your bitch? Are we at least going to do an even trade?" Dolohov growled.
"If you would have taken better care of your pet, Antonin, I would not have been asked to step in to train her for you," he smirked.
Dolohov started pacing. "Where is the little slut anyway? I was completely heartbroken–and I mean it– that you didn't share her with us. You must have completely torn her apart last night," he laughed. "I mean– a double dose of that curse? How are you even walking?"
Snape wanted to raise his wand, curse Dolohov for his mere existence. It was repulsive to Snape that anyone could take pleasure in someone else's pain and suffering. However, he had a role to play.
Instead, he smirked. "Indeed. I believe I had to douse myself with a full phial of Pepper Up this morning to even meet with you."
Dolohov bit his lip, inching closer, completely ignoring the horrified look on his pet's face. "And the girl?"
"Scrubbing the floors, as I have instructed."
"Bring her in."
"I see no reason to. You are to drop off my new toy and leave."
"Prove to me that she's as bad off as you promised," he demanded.
With a heavy sigh, Snape raised his voice. "Come here, girl!" he barked. Dolohov rubbed his hands together excitedly, looking like a housefly that had just found his next meal.
Granger came around the corner demurely–head hung low, tears in her eyes and hands clasped in front of her. She looked meek–broken. It was good, almost too good. His heart clenched. The girl even remembered to walk stiffly.
"Merlin, Snape. You sure did a number on her, didn't you. Thought you didn't mark yours," he laughed.
"I said you need to gain their trust first. Now, she is capable of understanding my needs, and therefore understanding when a punishment is in order. These, however," Snape said as he gestured to her bruises, "were curse-related," he smirked. "With a double dose of your curse, Antonin– it is nearly impossible to rein oneself in. I am only human, after all."
"Right. So, earn the bitch's trust, then I can beat her."
"You foolish man," Snape chided. "You shouldn't want to beat her."
"What good are they then?"
"You keep them. Mold them to your liking, and then— well, you'll never have to pay for another whore for as long as you live." Snape had walked over to Granger then, pulling her in front of him so that they were looking in eachtoher's eyes. She was starting to panic, he could tell, and he needed her to look at him– not her friend, and not the other man, for fear that she'd blow their cover. "You'll have a willing witch at your beck and call," he started to caress her back, making her shiver unwillingly. "Trained in your desires… giving herself over to you freely," he purred, hands now caressing the tops of her shoulders, working towards her neck. He watched as her eyes closed and her lips parted. He was hoping she was occluding, finding comfort in his protective grasp away from Dolohov. "Night after night," he continued. "Perhaps, she might even begin to beg."
Dolohov was walking closer to the couple now, flushed with the desire that he so proudly displayed inside his trousers. "How am I supposed to learn, if you aren't going to teach?" Dolohov sneered, attempting to reach out for Granger before Snape released her, telling her to go back to her scrubbing.
"You aren't. The Dark Lord trusts my tutelage over yours. Now," he growled. "Leave us." Snape walked over to the Weasley girl, grabbing a handful of her hair and dragging her with him, kicking and screaming silently.
The Death Eater cursed under his breath, but reluctantly left, taking care to slam the door behind him. Snape immediately released her hair, pulling out his wand to ward the door before lifting the silencing curse.
"You fucking bastard," she screamed, scrambling to her feet to start punching and hitting him. He let her, for a while. Likely she needed the physical outlet, and he could handle the pain. "I'll kill you," she shrieked. "Where is she?!" Her fists slowed down, she was as weak as a kitten. Blows melted into sobs as she lowered herself to her knees, hands covering her face as her body heaved.
"Granger!" he barked. "Get over here, girl, and help me."
XOX
Ginny looked horrible. It seemed, Dolohov might have already broken her friend. She was thankful Snape stepped in when he did. Hermione bent down, attempting to hug her friend, but it only startled her. Hermione should've known better. Should've made her presence known before touching her, especially after being with that prick for almost a week. Ginny quickly swung at her would-be attacker, fist coming in contact with Hermione's cheek bone, right below her eye.
Merlin, that hurt. She felt the heat blossom, radiating outward until it felt like her eye might pop out. Snape stepped in again, pulling Hermione away gently before crouching down to Ginny's eye level. The girl took another swing, but Snape caught her effortlessly.
"Ginerva," he scolded. "You will desist at once."
"You hurt her again and I swear I'll–"
"You'll what?"
Ginny closed her eyes, defeated. Hermione stepped over to her friend once more, offering a hand to pull her up. "Come on, Gin. Let's get you washed up."
Hermione looked over to Snape to make sure she wasn't taking too many liberties. He simply nodded once. She smiled softly at him, turning her friend around and walking her into the bathroom.
Ginny stared at the witch dubiously. Hermione offered small smiles here and there, as she flitted around the bathroom, running the tub and looking for any kind of pain position, or something to at least relax her.
There was a knock on the door which made both girls jump, reaching for eachother. Snape pushed open the door slowly, looking off to the side to preserve Ginny's modesty, she assumed, as he held up to phials for her to take.
"Thank you, sir," Hermione whispered.
"The blue one can be used completely. Pink, sparingly – for pain," he offered before closing the door behind him.
"Are you in pain, Ginny?"
The girl stared back, disbelieving.
"Gin?"
"Why should I trust you?" she croaked. "You–you've paired up with him now, have you? You trust him now? After everything he's said? About— about breaking us? And you let it happen? He killed Dumbledore, Mione! He… he tortured me my last year in school– he's a bastard! A murderer!"
"Gin, please," she begged. "I'll explain more later. Just, please. For now let me help."
Ginny stared at her friend for a long time– the bath had almost overfilled by the time she broke eye contact to strip off her bloodied frock. "I don't have a choice, do I?"
"There's always a choice, Gin. Now. Soak for a bit. Then maybe we can talk."
Ginny nodded her head, already relaxing into the bubbles. Snape must have given her something really good to calm her that quickly. Assured her friend was safe from self harm, Hermione exited the bathroom, keeping the door cracked just enough to hear if anything bad happened, and sought out Snape.
He was standing in the bedroom, frock coat flung over the bed as he stared at himself in the mirror. His white shirt was held between his teeth as he turned slightly, this way and that, to try to rub some bruise paste on his ribs.
"May I, sir?"
He turned, surprised to see her standing there. With a huff, he removed his shirt from his teeth, letting it cover his torso as he handed her the bruise paste.
"Fine," he grumbled.
"Ginny really got you, didn't she?" Hermione teased a bit.
"Likely a broken rib or two. Well deserved, I assure you."
"I hate that," she mumbled. He huffed again. "You're a complete masochist, Snape. An enigma, yes– but a masochist as well. You think you deserve everyone's punishments."
"I assure you, Granger, that just because you saw a few of my memories, that the rest of my life was far from sainthood. I'm not a good man. Never was, never will be. I just want this damned war to end so I can die in peace."
Her fingers faltered in the jar as she scooped up some of the concoction. "Lift your shirt please, sir."
He did as he was told, wincing as she applied her two fingers over the purpled skin gently. "We all are likely to die, sir. Me more so than you. So if you could kindly save your suicidal ideation for times when I am not around, I would appreciate it."
He snorted, breath hitching a bit as it likely tweaked his rib. "Duly noted, Granger."
She finished her task, screwing the lid on once more. Snape moved away, donning his frock. "I'll be away for the rest of the day brewing, Granger. See to it that you both are fed well and asleep by the time I return. You both need it."
"Sir?" She was confused. It was late afternoon, how long would he be gone? What potion was he working on? What was she supposed to do for food, Kreacher wouldn't listen to her, she was sure. Where did he wish for them to sleep?
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'll be gone until late. The potion is none of your business. Kreacher will come when called because I have ordered him to do so. And I expect you and Miss Weasley to take the bed. I am quite content on the sofa, I assure you. Now, see your friend, and then continue your studies. Practice with the witch if you'd like, but share no information other than absolutely necessary. I can still easily read your mind, and hers is no better off."
Hermione sighed, walking back to the bathroom, only to find two pairs of transfigured pajamas laid out. That man— how dare he call himself anything other than a god-send.
XOX
Snape had been working on this damned potion for a week now. He was desperate to combine a poison with the actual restorative draught he had brewed but each attempt was a failure. He had the arithmancy notes and theories strewn throughout the room. He had originally thought that using the venom of that damned snake could be of use, she was, afterall the final horcrux. All it did was curdle his brew, which was infuriating. There had to be another way to kill the noseless bastard– he just had to think of it. He reached up to touch the phial that held Granger's innocence. He wouldn't add it until he was absolutely sure the brew would work. He didn't want to waste such a precious ingredient, all his evil deeds would be for naught.
He placed the glass tube back safely, reaching over for some ashwinder eggs when he recoiled, hissing in pain. His Mark was burning– The Dark Lord was angry about something. He slammed down his occlumency shields, hiding every thought and feeling about the girl, about the Dark Lord– everything.
He placed his wand to his Mark, informing his master that he was on his way. After the uncomfortable tug at his naval, he arrived in the Dark Lord's presence once more, immediately kneeling and kissing his robes. He kept his head lowered as he heard the cracks of apparition from his brothers and sisters as they arrived. He counted in his head–it seems only the inner circle would be in attendance.
"Arise, my children," Voldemort hissed. He started circling them all, robes billowing behind him. "Severus, step forward. Stand with me."
Snape did as he was asked, face impassive and mind empty of all thought as he took his place at the Dark Lord's right hand.
"I am most displeased," he started. "It appears, there is a traitor amongst you." The Dark Lord continued to circle the remaining Death Eaters, eyes fixed on the Lestrange family. "Any ideas who it could be Severus?"
"My Lord?"
"It would appear," he chuckled, "that three members, two of which were Marked Death Eaters, are not as dead as I was led to believe." He slithered up to Bellatrix, leaning forward as he whispered, "any idea where little sister is, Bellatrix?"
"No, my Lord! It is you that I serve. I wouldn't hide that traitorous bitch!"
"Indeed," The Dark Lord laughed. "I believe that to be true." He turned, looking to Severus. "And what of you? Would you hide a friend, Severus? Or perhaps even a lover? What about a Godson, hmm?"
"My Lord, I serve you, and you alone," he said confidently.
"Indeed," he said once again. "I seek blood, my children. I feel it is imperative that you all pay for the disgrace of the Malfoy family. Somehow, they have managed to survive. I want them found!" The Dark Lord cried out. "In the interim, I suggest you all work it out amongst yourselves," he smiled. "Bring me the traitor's body by dawn." He called forward Nagini and disappeared.
Snape looked out amongst the circle of Death Eaters, all looking from one to another, confusion and fear plastered over all of their faces. All except one. He watched as the witch took out her curved wand, raising it towards him as she growled.
"It was you!"
Fuck. Snape raised another layer of protective walls, not that Bellatrix had the skill to look inside his mind, but it allowed him to keep up his indifferent facade.
"What would I have to gain from hiding them, Bella?" He made sure to keep his tone bored and his posturing that of arrogance. He was, afterall, the Dark Lord's right hand. "They are not my blood. It is more likely that you found it in your cold heart to protect the boy and his mother. Lucius was obviously an afterthought."
The inner circle continued to look between Snape and Bellatrix, unable to decide who was the likely traitor. Snape's heart pounded inside his chest, he needed to find a scapegoat. Almost anyone else would do, all the Death Eaters knew a body would be needed to hand over. Slowly, they started moving in, wands drawn, pointed in every direction. No one was safe from suspicion it would seem.
Snape knew what this would lead to– a battle to the death. The Dark Lord hardly cared if there was a spy. If he actually wanted to know, he could torture it out of them. No, this was for entertainment, a way of getting them to all turn on one another. Snape drew his wand as well, just in time for the first curse to be called out. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, feeling a cold dread wash over his body.