Following her meeting with the horrid reptile, she tried to stay out of Snape's way as much as possible. She was worried that he'd make truth of his promise and accost her the next time they crossed path. For his part, he stayed in his lab in the basement for the past few days.

When he finally emerged from his lab, he looked worn and pale. Despite her aversion to being near him at the moment, she could not help but feel bad for the poor man. But she hadn't forgotten about his promise to finish what he started Thursday night.

"I will not touch you Hermione," he promised her tiredly as he sat at the kitchen table. "I would however, appreciate some food."

"Of course, sir," she acquiesced to his demands and turned on the stove to reheat the stew she had made yesterday.

She took out a bowl for him and set the cutlery in front of him and he grabbed her wrist before she could move away. "Eat with me today, please." He was so sincere that Hermione had a hard time saying no.

"I… are you sure?" she asked a little worried by his request.

"I would not ask you if was not," he told her exasperated.

Hermione proceeded to grab herself some cutlery and set down two bowls of stew on the table. She broke off some bread and gave a piece to Snape before finally sitting down.

"This tastes wonderful," he complimented her in a tone she was unaccustomed to.

"Thank you," she replied politely and a little uncertainly.

That was all the conversation they managed while eating. Occasionally Hermione would look up from her bowl to catch him staring at her with a curious look on his face.

Today, Snape cleared the plates with a wave of his wand and headed up the stairs without a word to her. She suspected that he must have gone upstairs to shower. As she heard the sound of water and piping, she settled herself into his small living room and began to continue reading her book. It was a nice luxury to have in a time such as this.

She grew sleepy very quickly as she read under the dim light and decided to risk running into Snape and head upstairs to sleep.

The hallway was clear when she walked to the top of the stairs. She quickly strode into the bedroom and ran straight into the man she was trying to avoid.

She stared aghast at walking in on the man shirtless and drying his hair. She couldn't help but notice how nice he smelled. He was a pale man and he was all lean muscles.

"Do you need something?" he asked her with an amused look.

"I was going to go to bed," she tried to explain.

"About that," Snape began and sat down on the bed. "There is only one bed in this house. There is a cot in my lab, but it is little better than the sleeping on the floor. As you are fully recovered now, I shall be taking my bed back. You may choose to sleep in it with me, or sleep on the floor."

"I…" she was speechless.

She weighted the pros and cons of sleeping in the same bed at him. She has slept close to Ron and Harry before. But they were her friends and they did not intimidate her. They have also never accosted her.

"Despite my previous behaviour," Snape sighed. "I will not molest you in your sleep. I like my partners to be conscious."

Hermione continued to stand in the room awkwardly until Severus slipped into bed and turned off the light with a wave of his wand. She could not see where he put his wand but decided that it was probably not wise to try to take it at this very moment. She would bid her time.

Reluctantly, she crawled into the other side of the bed and tried to get some sleep.

At some point during the night, Severus woke up, startled as something hit him in his sleep. It took him a few seconds to realise that what hit him was in fact Hermione's arm. He looked at the young sleeping woman and couldn't find it in himself to be vexed at her. After all, with all that he was putting her through, she was allowed to accidentally wake him up once in a while.

He rolled over and listened as her even breath lulled him back to sleep.

When she woke up that morning, to an empty bed, which was not out of the norm for her. It wasn't until she came to her senses that she began to wonder where the man was.

It didn't quite matter to her as she headed into the shower and took care of her morning routine.

He also was not in the kitchen when she went down to get herself a bite to eat. AS it has been a week already, she notice that the dust was settling on the furniture again and she knew what she could do for the day.

By lunch he was still missing and she began to wonder if he were in his lab or had gone out.

She tried the front door and the back door, neither seemed to respond to her efforts. As she readied herself to try the large kitchen window, Snape walked through the front door with a bag.

I hope you are not getting any stupid ideas," he warned her seriously. "While you are in these walls, you are protected. Out there, I cannot help you."

"I was just… airing out the house," she lied quite convincingly. But not convincingly enough from the look he gave her.

She silently served him his lunch which consisted of a ham sandwich and salad. It has occurred to him that for the first time ever, the food in the fridge was no longer rotting and he actually ate wholesome meals.

"I would like to have you assist me in the lab later," he commented nonchalantly.

Hermione's eyes lit up like a child's during Christmas. "Of course!" Then as an afterthought she added, "sir."

"Hermione," he got her attention. "Perhaps in the confined of this house, you may drop the 'sirs' and refer to me as Severus."

"Um… okay, Severus," she agreed slowly. Part of her was afraid that this was a trick or a test. It wasn't. But it felt too personal. She did not want to be on such personal terms with him, least her lack of contempt towards him leads to something worse.

Despite their unbalanced relationship, neither of them had any fatal flaws. If she looked past the fact that he was her keeper, Hermione could actually see that they had much in common. But she could not look past that fact.

"Follow me then," he motioned as he opened the basement door.

She was not surprised to find that the lab downstairs was an exact replica of the lab in Hogwarts. It was almost comforting to come to such a familiar place.

"I trust you will not make any attempts on my life with this knife," he said handing her a chopping knife. "Please cut the ginseng roots into 2millimiter thin slices."

And with that, he left her to her task while he stirred the three boiling cauldrons around the room and added ingredients when his wand vibrated.

Time passed far quicker than she expected as she crushed, sliced, and cubed various potion ingredients. In her mind, she kept track of what she processed and tried to hazard a guess as to what she was helping make. Despite her situation, she was still fully aware of the fact that she is responsible for any potion she helps make. But best not dwell on that fact too long, it may just drive her insane. After all, she did just crush Hellebore, a known potent poisonous agent.

But always the Know-it-all, the question of what she was helping create nagged at her until supper time when she could hold it in no longer.

"What potions are you preparing?" she asked curiously as they sat down to dine. When he did not respond she continued, "I suspect the small cauldron is the Elixir of Life, and the one with Hellebore is a form of the Pyronius Mortem potion."

He looked at her from a top his glass as he sipped at his wine. He did not look very happy at her inquiries.

"I apologize," she mumbled making sure she did not anger the man or something. "It's not my place to ask."

"No it is not," he glared at her. "However… it would be safer if you did know, lest you put in the wrong ingredient at least you will know of the consequences. You are right on the Elixir of Life, but the Hellebore potion is in fact an invention of my own. It is an Antidote to all poisons, a work in progress. Many of the Death Eaters, myself included drink it on a monthly basis. The last potion is a potent contraceptive or rather a sterilizing potion for the workers of Madame Morris'.

"It's a whore house isn't it?" she asked sadly.

"That is one of the kinder ways to put it," he replied casually. She wanted to throttle him for him nonchalance. Her friends would be in there.

"What kind of women are…" but knew didn't want to know.

"Prisoners of war, the poor, those who have wronged the winning side," he sighed tiredly. "Would knowing about it really make a difference?"

"It is my burden to bare," she grinded her teeth at him. She did not that her knowledge of what went on in there would do nothing but give her sleepless nights, but she had to know what was happening, she could have the will to fight and change it.

"Perhaps." He enunciated threateningly. "You should focus on surviving you foolish girl. You are fortunate that your potion skills are valuable, but you best find some more uses for yourself soon or I might just send you to that whore house myself."

That shut her up for the remainder of their meal.

She tried to read her book but found it impossible to focus when she thought of the millions of girls at Morris' who were being sterilized. What a horrid fate. While she could not imagine having a child any time soon, it was barbaric to take away that chance from any woman. Though on the other hand, none of the woman probably wanted to be with child with the men that visited them.

At least Snape didn't force her to do anything with him. Well except that one time in the kitchen. But she suspected that that was all an act to confound her. She wondered if he preferred men, he did say 'partner' and not women in their earlier conversation.

Her eyes settled onto a fairly new looking muggle book that seemed interesting. It was a small book of contemporary poetry. As she read a few poems she was struck my how bleak and lonely the poems were. Obviously, the book had been read before, from the bent in the spine, but was this what Snape read in his free time? Was this how he felt? She was probably reading too much into it, or projecting her own feelings. She liked to believe that everyone was worth saving.

She reread the lines on the page before her,

"flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills."

The words make her feel hollow inside and she wanted to lash out at something or someone for having depicted their current society so cruelly, so truthfully. She wondered if the author was a wizard but it didn't matter.

With a sense of nothingness and slight pity, she headed up the stairs, wondering if she would have to sleep next to Snape again. That also didn't matter because what choice did she have in the matter. And it wasn't like she really felt his presence once she entered unconsciousness.

She walked in as he was tucking his wand beneath his pillow. He looked up when she walked in and gave her a nod of acknowledgement before laying down and turning off the lights.

She quietly moved about the room and finally settled in bed new to him. In the dim light from the window she could see the silhouette of the man next to her. He was all sharp edges and angles. So unapproachable. Yet, after weeks of solitude, he had been a welcome human connection.

Maybe it was because she hadn't felt human touch in so long, that she began to long for his. That night in the kitchen, it hadn't been torturous for her. Aside from the initial shock, she found the experience enlightening and exciting.

As she stared at his angular features, she found herself slowly drifting to sleep.

When Hermione came to the following morning, she felt well rested and relaxed. The bed was warm and cozy and smelled like sandalwood. It was marvellous. She hugged her blanket closer to her chest only to find it groan and move in her grasp.

With a gasp her eyes burst open and she was met with the sight of a pale, sparsely haired chest. She was afraid to move or look up at the owner of said chest because she knew who it was and how he would most likely react.

The arm draped around her waist tightened momentarily and then she felt herself being pushed onto her back. She came face to face with a very awake and aroused man who was now hovering over her.

"It seems you are quite an affectionate sleeper," he smirked at her. She wondered if she did anything mortifying while asleep, or something that would have given him the wrong impression, or the right one.

"I… I… please," she tried to make out as she desperately wanted to move from her vulnerable position beneath him.

"Please what Hermione?" he whispered at her like a lover. "Please touch you? Please caress you? Please kiss you?"

With each word he leaned down closer and closer to her face until they were centimeters away. She couldn't help but stare at the lips that only days ago made her feel things she had never expected. Then she chided herself and tried to clear her head.

"Go make me breakfast," he ordered her suddenly as he flung himself off of her. "I'm going to take a shower."

Just like that, he left the room and a very rattled woman on his bed.

As she made breakfast, Hermione could not help but wonder about Snape's behaviour. While he often ignores her completely and is aloof to her, sometimes he looks at her with such intensity that she can feel herself heat up. And his touch in those moments was so inviting but wrong. She knew it was wrong.

But she was also reminded that while she felt conflicted about her physical proximity with Snape, many woman didn't even have the luxury of choice. Those who were less fortunate than her who have been shipped off to Morris' and god knows where.

Then she was reminded of Snape's angry words from yesterday. They were spoken out of anger but she wondered how much of it he meant. He told her that she was there for her potions skills. Did Snape go to Morris' for his other needs? Would she need to meet those needs? And most importantly, if she didn't, would she end up there?

Her biggest fear was the outside world. She was no longer free to roam that world. Here, in this house, despite her temperamental keeper, she was unharmed and sheltered. If it meant having to get on his good side and getting, for the lack of a better word, 'cozy' with Snape, she would.

As she came to this conclusion, he walked down the stairs, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black trousers. His hair was still damp and he smelled of mint and citrus. It really wouldn't be such a hardship on her to sate his urges. She didn't find the man unattractive and he was no sadist.

"Stop dawdling around," he broke her out of her daze. "I specifically remember asking you for breakfast."

"Yes, Sn- Severus," she replied hurriedly. She still thought of him as Snape, her ex-teacher and spy. She them hurriedly brought out the food from the oven that was keeping it warm. Without a wand, she could not simply cast a warming spell on the food. She then went on to make him coffee, black with one sugar, and stood out of way as he sat down to eat.

"Will you not join me?" he asked her as if she did something offensive by staying out of his way. She was never sure with the man, if he wanted her to eat with him or not. But after yesterday's conversation, she knew better than to start another conversation today.

They ate silently and she followed him down to his lab once the kitchen was clean.

Today, he simply wrote a list of tasks on the board for her to do. She realised that she had in fact, never skinned a cactus fruit before and had no idea how to do it.

When she got to the task, she paused and watched Snape as he continued reading and writing notes down into his little leather notebook. As if feeling her gaze on him, he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I've never skinned one before," she told him lamely holding up with prickly fruit.

He took a fruit as he walked past her and skillfully peeled it with a knife. He then looked at her expectantly, as if she should have been able to do it.

"I…" but she shut her mouth and tried her best to mimic motions.

While the task itself was hard enough, his proximity to her and his breath tickling the nape of her neck did not help at all.

Her fingers slipped from the watery and slick fruit and a thorn pricked her just hard enough to draw blood. He looked at her disapprovingly as she dropped both objects in her hand.

"Clumsy girl," he criticized her.

He approached her and grasped her injured hand by the wrist and inspected the wound. As he looked down at her, she wondered if he would yell at her again or perhaps heal it. Much to her relief, she waved his wand and healed the prick before stepping away from her.

"Thank you, Severus," she told him gratefully and relieved.

"Try again," he told her without acknowledging her thanks.

This time before her knife even touched the fruit. Snape walked behind her and wrapped his hand around hers in the correct form. Forcing her to breathe and relax her muscles, Hermione tried to act unaffected by this.

"Like this," he motioned as he used her hands to skin the fruit.

Despite the motion only lasting a few seconds, to her, it appeared like an eternity. Once it was finally done, she had hoped that he would move away from her and return to his own work, but he did not. Instead, he took the knife from her and from his position behind her, he began to cut up the second fruit that Hermione unsuccessfully cut into little cubes. His nimble finger picked one up and lifted it up to her lips.

"Open," he commanded her.

In her vast knowledge, she did not remember ever reading about the properties of this fruit. Was it poisonous? Deadly? But she had no choice but to open her mouth slowly and allow him to insert the unknown fruit into her mouth.

To her relief, it taster sweet and a little slimy, as for any other effects it might have she'd have to wait. But surely the man wouldn't kill her for simply not knowing how to cut the thing. Kill, maybe not, but he was evil enough to poison her.

It was only when he moved away from her and popped a piece of the fruit into his own mouth before going back to his work station that Hermione relaxed.

The whole experience left her flushed and very uncertain of her fate. She found it impossible to focus and excused herself to make them lunch.

That night as she brushed her teeth at the sink, Snape walked in behind her and holding her gaze in the mirror, he approached her gracefully. She froze and waited for his next movement in anticipation. He smirked at the effect he had on her and proceeded to brush his own teeth without giving her a second glance. He did appear quite pleased at himself the entire time.

She realised that he had no intentions of leaving the bathroom before he was done, so she finished brushing her teeth quickly and left. She could wait until he was done.

When he finished she finally had her chance to take a shower and wash off the fumes from the potion she stood over all afternoon. No wonder his hair was so sticky after a day over the cauldrons. But now, apparently that lovely job was hers.

As she walked into the bedroom she realised that the lights were still on. She had hoped the lights would be off and she could change in the darkness. But there he was, staring at her.

He had seen her naked before, she reminded herself.

But it did not make it any easier for her to drop her towel and slip on one of his large night shirts.

When she turned around she realised that he was staring appreciatively at her behind and he gave her a leering smile.

"Come," he invited her or rather commanded her to get in bed with him.

Hermione had a notion of what was about to happen. He had been looking at her intensely all day and if she were to be honest, for a few days now.

She crawled into bed and sat there awkwardly staring at the covers.

"Lay down," he proposed. She did.

He began by letting his hands roam her body, squeezing and pinching at certain places. She let out small moans and sighs of pain or shock when he did this.

"What a receptive little thing you are," he complimented as he laid a kiss on her neck. He continued to trail kisses up her neck until he capture her mouth.

His hands were not squeezing her breast. He was not especially gentle but it did not hurt either. His pelvis pressed against her left thigh as he leaned over her and she could feel his erection against her.

When his hands began to wander up her thigh, she froze and then clamped down on it.

"Do not make this any harder than it has to be," he told her.

She wondered if he would continue if she simply refused. She didn't want to find out and she was afraid that if she hurt him with her rejection he would simply send her to Madame Morris'. Better bed one man unwillingly than a dozen.

She returned to the present when she felt her shirt pulled off of her body, leaving her bare to his roaming eyes. His hooded eyes belayed nothing and she wondered uncertainly if she was pleased with her. Why she cared was a mystery to her.

When he returned to devouring her mouth, she let that thought slide from her mind and simply enjoyed the feeling of his body against hers. He wasn't grotesque or unappealing and if she simply relaxed, she was able to enjoy the feeling of his rhythmic administration.

Again, when his hands trailed back down to the apex of her thighs she clamped down but then quickly relaxed and lit his nimble fingers brush against her. It was an excitingly new feeling for her. It was like a bolt of electricity ran through her.

"You like this don't you?" he smirked knowingly.

She didn't reply.

"Don't you?" he asked again more forcefully.

"Yes," she squeaked.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I like it," she replied obediently.

"Good girl," he mumbled as his finger probed at her and he froze. "Are you are virgin?"

"I… yes," she blushed and chided herself for such a reaction at a time like this.

"Let me teach you then," he leered at her. But instead of probing her further, he withdrew his hand and grasped her hands and led it to his hard on. "Wrap your hands around me… ahh… yes… move it up and down, gentle… that's it"

Hermione was mesmerized by the feel of the unfamiliar appendage. It was hard and yet so soft. She brushed her thumb against the tip of it to feel the soft and inviting texture of it.

By this time, he had closed his eyes and his nostrils flared in anticipation. Hermione stared at his face and felt a sense of control from the power she held over his pleasure. But when his dark eyes opened and stared down at her, she knew that she had very little control over his hunger.

He began to once again stoke her apex and she felt a feeling build up in her pelvis, like she was drowning. She knew, or rather had read about it. So this is what it felt like.

And as the realisation dawned on her, a damn broke inside of her and she was flooded with a feeling of ecstasy as she panted to regain her breath.

"My turn,"

As he said this he pressed his lips against her and began to rub himself on her tight quite firmly and quickly. And soon he came and laid back down next to her with a sigh.

Hermione could feel trails of his seeds on her thigh and curiously inspected some of it on her finger. Snape who had opened his eyes watched her intensely.

"Taste it," he whispered softly. And as if she were under the Imperius, she complied. What little she taste was salty but not unappealing to her.

Before she could analyse it any more, he was once again on top of her and kissing her with fervour. She found that she did not hate it. As his kisses lightened, she was amazed at how good it felt to be kissed by Severus Snape but that might just be the post-coital bliss talking. Thought she wasn't even sure if what they did could be considered coitus. Not that she cared, as she felt sleep descent upon her.

When Hermione woke up hours later, it was pitch black in the room. She turn on the small lamp and noticed that Snape was not in bed with her. Upon further inspection of the house, she found that he was nowhere in the house at all.

Unfortunately all the doors were still sealed and the windows would only open halfway. He was quite thorough.

But not thorough enough, she thought as she smiled to herself.

Concentrating on her magic, Hermione focused on a memory of her first time performing magic at Hogwarts, the exhilaration. An unidentifiable animal emerged from the silvery smoke and floated before her.

"Find Harry Potter, tell him, 'I am alive with Severus Snape. Safe for now. What's the plan?'"

And just like that, the smoke left the dining room through the window and floated away. Looking around her nervously, she ran back up the stairs and under the covers. But sleep would not come to her.

She heard Snape come into the house in the early mornings but he did not appear upstairs and she fell asleep trying to listen to the sounds below to figure out just what exactly he was doing downstairs.

A/N- Hello! So I wrote this instead of doing readings for school because that's just what I do. Enjoy! and as always I own nothing. The poem in here is by Charles Bukowski.

Please review is you like this. Pretty please!