Bound to Him

by georgesgurl117

At the behest of Lord Voldemort, Severus Snape is forced to commit a deplorable act against one who should have been under his protection. Bound by Dark Magic, he and Hermione Granger must learn to trust one another and themselves as they work together to thwart the dark plots surrounding them.

59. Taming the Dragon

A/N: Uff! It has been a crazy time, but finally I have something new for you to read! I think it might be worth the wait...

Thanks for the continued reviews! For those of you asking how long this will be, I really don't know. I have quite a bit of plot left to resolve, so I can see this getting close to the 100-mark. Really, it's too soon to call. As for the question on how frequently I update... well, not as often as I would like. I do so whenever I get the chance. When I'm lucky, it's about twice a month.

'Full of Thanks' - if you would like to PM me or contact me on my livejournal page, please do.

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Bound to Him

Chapter 59

Upon dropping into her seat next to Terry Boot in Arithmancy, Hermione was grateful to have reached her final class of the week. She was looking forward to having a lie in the next morning and holing up in her dormitory until her shift in the infirmary. It was sad really how excited she was to have a few hours to rest on her own. The week had practically dragged on, and she was tired.

Though she had initially found it cathartic to watch Severus hexing Remus, it lost its amusement factor after the fifth or sixth spell slipped through her shield. At that point, it became blatantly obvious to her that in the grand scheme of things, they were on the same side. She knew that the Marauder really only meant to help her – though, he was doing a piss poor job of it –and that he cared enough about her to withstand physical pain just to give her practice. From then on, every muffled groan that followed a failure of her shields increased her guilt and desperation to protect him. She was not certain that that particular outcome was one of the intended learning goals for the session, but she was grateful to Snape for reminding her that she should not alienate the man entirely.

As such, it had taken a few days for her to stop feeling guilty for the few dozen hexes that she had been unable to block, even though the man had waved off her apologies and assured her that he had suffered far worse – from Snape, especially – in the past. Granted, she was not ready to be bosom buddies with the werewolf, but she had stopped actively ignoring him when they passed each other in the hall.

Leaning down from her seat, Hermione grimaced at the soreness in her muscles. Her flying – or falling – lesson the night before had gone far better than the week prior, and she had even managed to slow herself to a gentle landing on a number of falls. Needless to say, Severus's methods for building her confidence on the broom would not translate well to an entire class, but they had certainly proved effective thus far. She doubted that she would ever be as eager to fly as Ron or Harry were, but if she could manage to handle flight well without feeling as though she were on the edge of a massive panic attack the entire time, it would be good enough for her.

With a quiet sigh, she opened the flap of her book bag to grab her Arithmancy notebook. When a foot appeared in her peripheral vision, she had just enough time to yank her hand away before the contents of her bag were strewn across the floor.

"Oops," Draco sneered, passing by the table.

"Oi!" Terry yelled, shooting to his feet. "You're a total wanker, Malfoy!"

The blonde shrugged coldly as he sank into his seat. A smug expression was plastered on his face as he watched the girl snatch up a folded piece of parchment before scrambling to stuff everything else back in her bag.

"He's going to get his one day," the Ravenclaw grumbled, kneeling beside Hermione as he helped her put her things back to rights.

She offered the boy a grateful smile. "Just let it be. It isn't worth it."

"You're right," Terry sighed. As he handed her the last few sheets of parchment, he cast a glare at the Slytherin and raised his voice enough to be overheard. "He isn't worth a damn thing."

Hermione glanced toward the blonde pureblood, pinching her lips together when she noticed a flicker of hurt in his eyes. The flash of vulnerability was replaced almost immediately by the haughtiness normally expected by the Malfoy heir, and the witch dropped her gaze back to her book bag. Clearing her throat, she thanked the boy beside her and then reclaimed her seat a moment after Professor Vector appeared.

Keeping one hand in her lap, she dutifully copied notes for several minutes until she was certain that no one else was paying any attention to her. In case Terry was to look over at her, she turned her torso slightly away from him and then peeked down at her lap. Silently, she unfolded the scrap of parchment that she had noticed Draco drop atop her belongings. With another short glance at the Slytherin, she bit her bottom lip and then began to read.

Sunday, 11 pm. 4th floor –Hengist of Woodcroft's bust. Come alone, or not at all.

Her heart was beating rapidly as she subtly crumpled the note and stuffed it in the pocket of her robes.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

"Push me out, Minerva," Snape grumbled, lowering his wand. "You have to work on clearing your thoughts and getting me out of your head."

The Deputy Headmistress sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I thought I wasn't supposed to push you out."

He shook his head. "You are not pretending to spy for the Dark Lord; ergo, you do not need to be concerned with allowing anyone to rifle through your mental drawers. Hermione and I have to appear as though we are not hiding anything. You, however, are in Potter's camp when it comes to Occlumency. Don't allow anyone in, and if you do, keep your bloody mind clear."

"Oh, well you might have said something to that effect," she replied, adjusting her robes.

"I have. Repeatedly." The man rolled his eyes and raised his wand once more. "Legilimens."

After what seemed like ages worth of strolling through mundane memories of teaching duties and watching Quidditch, Severus cancelled the incantation and paced for half a minute. He had felt the inkling that she did not want him in her head, but the push had been minimal.

"Well, are you going to try again?" McGonagall asked. "Or do you have some other bit of wisdom to impart?"

He tossed her an irritated look and looked to the ceiling for one last moment of consideration. If there was anything he knew as a tried Occlumens, it was that desperation was a powerful motivator. The first time he had gone before the Dark Lord in his duplicitous role, it was only the desperate desire to keep Lily safe that had held his shields in place.

The Gryffindor Head, though, had not dealt with that panic or fear. He had given her more than a fortnight to ease into the practice, but time was not something they had in great supply. Hermione had not received such a gentle introduction into the art of Occlumency, so Minerva need not be coddled any further. If she was going to lead the Order, she needed to know how to handle herself under pressure. The memories he had been perusing appeared to hold no real threat to her, and so she was not desperate to keep them private. Thus, it was time to challenge her. She needed to realize just how dangerous those seemingly innocuous images could be.

Setting his jaw, Snape gestured for her to prepare herself and then murmured the incantation again. As he had done every other time he had slipped into her mind, he sought out an ordinary recollection of a day in class. This time, however, he purposely snagged one of the courses in which Granger and her unfortunate friends had attended. For a brief second, he followed behind the woman as she monitored her students' progress in transfiguring a button into an ottoman. When she passed by the infamous trio, however, he darted away and pushed upon Hermione's image.

As he was sucked into a whirlwind of memories of the girl, he reached out for one that was radiating with feelings of concern. Yanking that forward, he found himself again in the same classroom as he watched the girl closing her eyes and holding her breath as she sank into a chair beside Potter. The young witch was clearly suffering some affliction, which worried the woman enough to reach for a piece of parchment.

After she managed to pen the words 'He has a half-hour break,' Severus snatched at the paper and was immediately thrown into his own sitting room, watching himself sullenly staring at the fireplace. He could feel Minerva pushing against him with greater force than before, but still he pressed on in his lesson.

"Have the two of you spoken since the incident with Remus?"

"We've maintained conversation, but I assume you're asking if we've had some groundbreaking heart-to-heart."

"I'm not going to be your go-between, Severus. I will hold your secrets and I will hold hers, but.."

The wizard could feel himself being ejected from the memory, but at the last second, he latched onto the notion of secrets. Whirling into a room he recognized as a dormitory bathroom, he stopped short at the sight of Hermione huddled on the floor between the tub and toilet with tear tracks evident upon her cheeks.

"…tell me what you're feeling so that perhaps I can help you."

"I stopped thinking about it, you know… I didn't even realize it until now, but I haven't thought about… that night for a while. I mean it isn't like I forgot about it, but I just didn't… think about it."

Severus could feel Minerva's magic lashing against him, trying to force him away from the scene. He knew that he should probably do as she asked, since he had demonstrated full well what was possible, but something held him there. Pushing back against her defenses, he submitted to the urge to learn what was upsetting the girl.

"… I wanted to think that what we were doing was something real instead of… something forced. But then he said that, and I realized he's right."

The man narrowed his eyes in confusion. It was clear that they were discussing him, but he could not quite imagine what he had said to cause her so much distress.

"What? No, he –"

"Not about the Death Eater part, but the part about me."

"Hermione, no."

The young Gryffindor turned to look up at her Head of House, and he could see the broken expression on her face. "It is. I'm just a victim who has been doing everything I can to convince myself that I'm not! And I've been trying to force him into the charade along with me. He keeps trying to get me to stop, but he won't actually say it, so I keep pushing and pushing… and it's all just a lie!"

Snape felt his stomach beginning to twist. He realized that the conversation had taken place the night of his birthday after he had shouted at Lupin without considering how it would affect her. He had not meant whatever it was he had spewed, and again he had damaged her without intending to.

"He hasn't over-stepped his bound with me, because I'm just part of his duty… an obligation, and nothing more. I'm the one pressuring him into something more, and he won't stop me because he feels guilty for having been forced to hurt me. But you must already know this since you told me not to keep pushing."

"That wasn't my intent –"

"I just wanted to be normal… to have something normal… to be someone he wants, but I'm not because I'm not… enough."

The Slytherin closed his eyes. He could not feel any actually feel resistance to his being there at the moment, but he had had enough. He could not passively sit by as she revealed his failures regarding the girl, and so without another moment's thought, he cancelled the spell and returned to his own head.

"Proud of yourself, are you?" Minerva sneered, glaring at him.

He swallowed uncertainly as mentally replayed what he had seen. Suddenly, he spun on his heel and rushed toward the office door. As he yanked it open, however, it immediately slammed closed again, and he could feel that wards had been applied to essentially bolt it shut.

"Open the damn door, woman!" he growled, turning back to the room.

The witch stood from her chair. "What exactly do you think you're going to do?"

"I'm going to set her bloody straight!" the man declared.

McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "If you've seen that much, you might as well see the rest of it before you go charging off."

"I don't…" He shook his head and folded his arms to his chest. "Tell me what it is she meant when she said you told her to stop bothering me!"

She grimaced slightly at his angry tone as she perched against her desk. "She misunderstood what I meant, Severus. I wasn't trying to tell her that you had no feelings for her. I was trying to… give you time to adjust."

"To adjust?" he scoffed. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Severus, you've been punishing yourself for the situation you're both facing," the woman explained. "You believe it to be your fault, when it isn't. Even Hermione knows it isn't, and has known since the day after it happened! And then you came to me because when she forgave you for an accident and immediately showed you affection, you saw it as the same as your mother making excuses for your father's abuse. I thought you needed time to deal with that, because if you didn't, you would never be comfortable with her. You would walk on eggshells around her, beating yourself up over every perceived wrong. Since she didn't hate you, you would hate yourself, and that's the last thing I want for you."

The wizard swallowed uncomfortably and ran his hand through his hair.

"I told Hermione that she should speak to you about everything," she continued, "but she seemed concerned that you would pity her if you knew what she was feeling."

"I've quite explicitly told her that I do not."

Minerva nodded wearily. "I know you wouldn't, and I told her that. But if she hasn't told you, something else must be holding her back. She has it in her head that you would never be happy with her."

"That I would never be happy with her?" he repeated in disbelief. "Why is that her concern?"

"Because," the woman replied, "she has grown to care for you and wants to know that it will not forever be unrequited."

Grimacing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "But she… I mean, the circumstances that led to…"

"Matter only so long as you make them matter," McGonagall finished. "The beginning is never as important as the ending."

"But if it's not authentic… the bond…"

"Are you suggesting the bond creates these feelings she has for you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Of course not. But it forces her to be… intimate with me, and I'm… Well, it's essentially a captive identifying with her captor, isn't it?"

Minerva raised one eyebrow. "You mean like Stockholm Syndrome?"

He shrugged in agreement and then spoke softly. "Or like a battered wife."

"Severus," she sighed, dropping her shoulders. She paused for half a minute as she attempted to think of something to say that would dissuade him of the notion, but eventually admitted defeat. "I think you need to talk to Hermione about those concerns. You aren't going to take anything I say at face value, but please believe me when I say that I know her feelings are genuine. They are not part of some coping mechanism that you and Remus have made her think they are. And she thinks that you will find her pitiable for having developed them."

Snape balled his hands into fists and then moved toward the door. "I need to deal with this."

"Do you promise you will handle it in a considerate fashion?" McGonagall asked. When he nodded, she flicked her wand at the door to release the wards. "Remember, in forty minutes, you're supposed to help supervise apparition lessons."

With a growl, the man burst through her office door and rushed toward the staircase. As he rounded the corner, he narrowly avoided colliding with his former classmate.

"Severus, is something wrong?"

"Lupin," he murmured, "May I impose upon you to cover my supervision duty at this afternoon's apparition session? I've just been made aware that I have a more pressing matter to attend to."

The werewolf's eyes widened slightly and unconsciously flicked toward the spy's left arm. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Thank you," the Slytherin replied, continuing on his path toward the stairs.

"Good luck, Severus," Remus stated just loud enough to be heard.

Snape sucked in an uncomfortable breath as he descended toward the ground floor. He had not exactly been planning to fake a summoning, but if it gave him the time he needed, then so be it. Touching down onto the floor of the Entrance Hall, he quickly glanced about the space. Seeing no one, he disillusioned himself and then made his way to the staffroom. Once inside the empty room, he stole to the fireplace and Flooed into the empty office on the sixth floor.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

'Granger. Room of Requirement. You shouldn't be seen.'

Hermione's brow furled as the voice slipped across her thoughts. Clearing her throat, she glanced up from the pages of her book. "Harry, what time are the lessons again?"

"At two," he replied, glancing down at his watch. "So in, erm, half hour."

"Oh, okay," she smiled, closing her book. "I didn't want you two to be late."

"Thanks," Neville murmured.

The girl nodded as she stuffed her book back in her bag. "I'll see you guys at supper, yes?"

"Are you alright, Hermione?"

"Oh, yeah." Standing from her chair, she swung her bag over her shoulder. "I just realized I left my mediwitch's handbook in my room. I think I'll just read it there and take a nap before supper."

After the boys offered mumbled farewells, the witch calmly walked out of the library and then down the corridor to the staircases. Once she had reached the seventh floor, she ascertained that no one was watching and then disillusioned herself. As quietly as she could, she sprinted toward the Room of Requirement, hoping that whatever the reason was for meeting there was not horrible.

Holding her breath, she reached for the ornate door knob that had appeared at her approach. As she slipped into the room, she glanced about the cozy space in uncertainty and then removed her Disillusionment charm. Her eyes locked onto Snape's form as he stood by the fire, and she rubbed her arm after depositing her book bag on the floor. "Severus? Is something wrong?"

With a nod, the man slowly turned to face her and then gestured toward the sofa. "I believe we need to talk."

"About?" Hermione asked, stepping around the end of the couch. When she took a seat on one end, he claimed the other side.

The wizard took in a deep breath before turning his torso to face her. "You have asked for honesty from me, and I feel it is only fair that I ask the same of you."

"Okay," she replied slowly. "I don't know what you think I've been hiding from you. I told you about Draco –"

"We're not discussing Mr. Malfoy at the moment," he interrupted. "We're discussing you."

The girl flattened her palms against her thighs. "I thought we had this conversation already."

"I attempted to have this conversation," he corrected. "I've come to realize, however, that you were not entirely truthful in your responses."

Her eyebrows narrowed as she crossed her arms. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Unless you are truly unfamiliar with the definition of the word 'fine', I think you know exactly what I mean," Severus replied. When she said nothing, he shifted uncomfortably. "Hermione, whatever it is… I told you I would not think any less of you."

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Hermione pushed off of the couch and crossed over to the fireplace. "You also said that I didn't have to tell you unless it was a matter of safety or importance."

"Do you not consider your personal well-being to be important?" he questioned, tilting his head.

The witch turned to stare at him as she floundered for a response.

"Please," he murmured. "I would like to know."

Leaning back against the warm stone of the fireplace, the girl closed her eyes and shook her head. "Please, don't make me."

"Why?"

When her lower lip trembled and she twisted her body away from him, he swallowed hesitantly. "Hermione, are you frightened of me?"

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I'm scared for you… but not of you."

A measure of relief flooded his system at her response. "Then what is it that is preventing you from trusting me?"

"I trust you," Hermione huffed defensively, facing him. As he continued staring at her, she took in a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. "I just… you'll think me utterly pathetic."

The man shook his head slowly. "I can promise that I will never think that."

She bit down on her lip as she eyed him for several long seconds. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything," he replied, leaning forward.

Wrapping her arms about her waist, the girl dropped her gaze to the floor. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders, unsure of what to say.

"Why did you flee so quickly after the last renewal?" he finally queried.

Hermione grimaced before mumbling, "Because it hurt too much."

"What?" the wizard gasped, rising from his seat and approaching her. "I hurt you? Why didn't you say anything?"

Raising her eyes to meet his concerned gaze, she quickly shook her head. "No, not like that. Not physically. I meant that it was hard… it hurt to have it be that way again after… what I thought it had been."

"For it to be what way again?"

"Like it was in the beginning," she muttered while stepping away from him. "Cold, emotionless, nothing more than a requirement."

Severus narrowed his eyes in confusion. "That's what you thought of it? Hermione, I did everything I could to –"

"No, you don't get it!" she cried, spinning around. "I tried to tell you this before – I can't do it! I can't feel something one moment and then completely ignore it the rest of the time. If you expect me to do so, then you are either an arse or an idiot who has far more faith in my ability as an Occlumens than you should."

Stunned by her statement, the man stared at her for a long moment. "You mean to tell me that you were actively occluding during –"

"Yes!" she snapped. "I was occluding during sex, because I would rather feel nothing than force myself to forget everything I did!"

His mouth opened and closed lamely as he took in her confession. Extending his hand toward her, he touched the side of her face only to have her pull away a second later.

"Please don't," she whispered. "I don't need you to pretend any more. I've come to terms with the situation."

"What situation?"

Hermione strode back toward the sofa and climbed onto the end. "I've realized that I've been building this fantasy to deal with everything. I thought I was only joking about it to begin with, but I must've actually been doing it. And you've allowed me to do it because it made it easier for me."

She swallowed back tears before continuing. "I see my friends having romantic relationships, and I feel jealous because they have something that I'll probably never have. So I imagined that you and I could have something similar, but I've only been fooling myself. I'm not your girlfriend. I'm your student… your charge… your responsibility. Perhaps I'm your friend, but to consider myself as anything more is… I would be daft to consider it."

"Hermione," Snape uttered slowly as he reclaimed the seat beside her. "I do not see you as an obligation, and I have not seen you as merely a student in some time. Despite what I must portray in the classroom, I do consider you a friend and an equal. More than that, you are… my partner."

"In some disturbing twist of an arranged marriage, perhaps," she muttered glumly.

The wizard blew out a languid breath and placed one hand atop hers. "I cannot deny that this would never have occurred had it not been forced upon us, but I do not believe that makes it anything less than what it is. The… end is more important than the beginning, isn't it?"

Glancing down at his hand, the girl sighed audibly.

"Hermione, I have shared more with you than I thought I would ever be comfortable sharing with anyone," he confessed. "I… trust you beyond anyone else, and I will do everything in my power to keep you from harm. We are in this together… indefinitely."

She blinked back a few tears and rested her chin upon her knees. Wrapping her fingers around his hand, however, seemed to give her the confidence she needed to whisper, "Do you think you will ever desire me?"

His dark eyes immediately locked onto her face. "You think I am not currently attracted to you?"

"No, I don't," she replied honestly.

Frowning, he squeezed her hand gently. "Whatever gave you that impression?"

"The bond," the witch answered, yanking away from him so that she could pace in front of the sofa. "You said that the frequency of its renewal was dependent upon my desires as well as your own, but it's only ever been affected by mine. And whenever we… were intimate when it wasn't immediately required, I had to convince you. You would never have pursued it if I didn't force you into it. The only time you ever brought it up yourself was the very first time, and even then it was only because I would have died if you didn't!"

Severus tracked her movement as she spoke and then rubbed his face with both hands. "Hermione, please listen. You've misunderstood everything. I haven't … Merlin, the reason I haven't pursued and was hesitant to accept more of a physical relationship with you is not because I do not find you desirable. It was because… because I did not trust that the bond would not torment you further."

"What?" she whispered.

"Do you think you're the only one who has been employing Occlumency to combat particular thoughts?" Severus quipped with a small smirk. "I have been forced to do many undesirable things in my life, I assure you, but having sex with you is not one of them."

"Well, I know I'm not pretty."

His eyes widened in surprise at the sudden declaration. "Well, then clearly you know something I don't. I, for one, would not assume that Mr. McLaggen would risk my wrath to drag an ugly witch around the village all afternoon."

"His standards are quite lax, in my opinion," she argued, raising her chin.

"And you assume mine would be more stringent in that regard?" he asked, leaning against the armrest in mild amusement. "Who be I to judge one's physical appearance?"

The witch shrugged her shoulders and looked at the floor. "You seemed to have judged well in the past."

With a narrowed brow, Snape stared at her for nearly a minute before he understood her meaning. The smirk left his face as he shifted forward in his seat. "Is this about Lily?"

"I've seen Harry's pictures of her," she remarked quietly. "I'm never going to be like her. I'm not tall or graceful or curvy. I have too many freckles, and my hair is atrocious, and –"

"Enough, Granger," he grumbled, rising from the couch. He stepped in front of her and slipped his hand beneath her chin. "Lily's appearance may have been what attracted the idiot Marauders' attentions, but that had nothing to do with why I loved her. She was my only friend – the only person I could talk to for many years. She treated me like an actual human being, enjoyed spending time with me, and made me feel like I was worth something. That is why I loved her."

"You still love her, don't you?" Hermione asked.

The man nodded slowly. "I will always."

"I thought so," she murmured.

Severus sighed as he rubbed his thumb along her cheek. "Do you remember what you told me months ago about Weasley? That you would never forgive yourself if you made him hate you? That you loved him, but didn't know to what extent? If that is still true, then you should understand my feelings for Lily."

The girl gave a nod before slipping out of his grasp. After gripping her hair in both hands for a moment, she nervously glanced back at him. "You really only pushed me away because you were worried about the bond?"

The wizard began to nod, but then grimaced. "Not entirely."

"Because I'm still a student?"

"Well, that certainly hasn't helped anything," he sighed, before sinking onto the couch.

"But there's something else?" she pressed. When he nodded, she rubbed her upper arm. "Is it because I –"

"It doesn't really have anything to do with you," Snape interrupted, resting his elbows on his thighs. "There's something else that… I've never discussed with anyone but Minerva."

Hermione studied him carefully for a moment, noticing that he bore an anguished expression. Upon remembering her conversation with the Deputy Headmistress after the incident with Remus, she cleared her throat and moved to sit beside him. "Please tell me."

Wincing, the wizard rubbed his hand over his face and then kept his eyes trained on the floor. "My mother was only eighteen when she… met my father. She had just graduated from Hogwarts and had run away from the Wizarding World. Her mother had died shortly before then, and the man she fancied had broken her heart, so when he came upon her at some seedy pub, she was not thinking clearly. She tried to return home afterward, but upon discovering her pregnancy, my grandfather disinherited her."

While he paused for a moment, the witch held her breath.

"With no money or experience, she thought that her best option was to seek him out again. Frankly, I think she would have been better off on her own, but that simply isn't done in the Wizarding World. It was the same pureblooded upbringing that prevented her from ever leaving him, and so she suffered greatly."

"What happened to her?" the girl asked softly.

Snape exhaled lengthily as he rubbed his forehead. "She died a few months after I joined the Dark Lord. She had not had the best of health to begin with, and she never trusted Muggle medicine. I tried to bring her whatever potions she needed, but she never really cared enough to take them. I hardly remember her ever sleeping, and after I graduated, she stopped eating regularly."

"How old was she then?"

"Not any older than I am now," he replied after a moment of consideration. "Thirty-seven."

"I'm sorry," Hermione murmured, tucking her hands beneath her arms so as to resist the urge to hug him. "What about... erm, what happened to your father?"

His upper lip curled in disgust as he leaned back against the sofa. "He managed a few more years before the cirrhosis claimed him. He, however, was nearly sixty at the time."

Her eyes widened slightly at the information, and she quickly began doing calculations in her head. There had to be a nearly twenty year age difference between his parents – similar to the one separating her from Severus.

"For several years after she died…" The man stalled momentarily and squeezed his hands into fists. "I would wake in the middle of the night, hearing her screams or the excuses she used to make for him when I was a small child. Those nightmares eventually went away… at least they did until a few months ago."

The girl's lips parted in horrified understanding.

"Only now," he added quietly, fixing her with an injured look, "I've become him."

"No!" she gasped, scrambling even closer to him. Before he could react, the witch had settled onto his lap with her arms clutched tightly around his shoulders and her forehead pressed against the side of his face. "You can't think that! It isn't right!"

"Isn't it?" the man mumbled, taking in a deep breath. "Considering everything I've done to you recently?"

"No, Severus." The brunette shook her head as she pulled back far enough to meet his gaze. "None of this was your fault. I could never blame you for it."

He took in an uncomfortable breath. "Neither did she."

Hermione sank against him with a sigh and then cupped his cheek with her hand. "From what you've told me, your father blamed everything on your mother, yes? Have you ever resented me for our situation?"

The Slytherin shook his head. "Never."

A small smile played at her lips as she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Then you shouldn't compare yourself to him."

Severus closed his eyes and wrapped his arms about her torso. "I've hurt you."

"Not because you wanted to," she argued. When he did not say anything, she rested her head against his. "Dad once gave Mum a black-eye because he didn't know she was coming up behind him while he was telling a story and gesturing wildly with his hands. He also threw her back out when he forgot to tell her that he was setting down his end of a heavy piece of furniture, and broke her nose when he pushed open the kitchen door at Gram's house harder than he should have. He's slammed my leg in a car door, pinched my fingers in a closet door, and elbowed me in the forehead when turning around. He stepped on Crookshanks in the middle of the night and gave him that crick in his tail."

"What's your point, Granger?"

"Dad's hurt us a number of times over the years without meaning it," the girl responded. "You've met him – would you classify him along with your father?"

"Of course not."

Hermione nodded. "That's my point."

The man took in a deep breath and then tightened his hold on her. "For future reference, if I ever hurt you in any manner – accidentally or not –I want you to confront me… like you did after Potter's cauldron blew. Please don't keep it to yourself like you did this time."

"Okay," she whispered, slipping her arms around his neck. For several minutes they sat together in silence until she cleared her throat. "Aren't you late for apparition lessons?"

"Lupin's covering for me," he replied. "He assumed that I had been summoned."

The girl narrowed her eyes in consideration and then shifted against him. "So he isn't likely to be prowling the corridors looking for you?"

He snorted sadly and shook his head. "I do not think it likely, no."

"I see," Hermione murmured, chewing on her bottom lip. "It has been two weeks, you know."

"Granger…"

"Well, we're here, and no one's wondering where we are. Remus won't suspect we've been together."

Snape took in a slow breath as he moved one hand to her hip. "Are you planning to occlude during it?"

The witch paused for a moment before pushing back to look at him. "Are you going to request that I never think about it again once I leave the room?"

"No," he sighed, shaking his head. "Not if it's going to cause you more distress than not."

"Then I won't," she whispered, touching his face. A few seconds passed before she leaned down and hesitantly pressed her lips against his. The wizard inhaled quickly as he pulled her into his chest and drew her deeper into the kiss.

Hermione sighed happily as they separated a long moment later. Smiling, she kissed the corner of his mouth and then rose up onto her knees so that she was staring down at him. "I've missed being able to bother you, you know."

"I must admit my rooms have been dreadfully quiet without anyone breaking into them at all hours of the day," he replied, resting his head against the back of the sofa so as to look up at her.

A smirk played at her lips as she slowly leaned down to kiss him again. As their tongues continued their exploration of each other's mouths, his hands splayed across her bottom before eventually pushing up beneath her jumper. With a small grunt, the girl drew away from him long enough to remove her top layers. Tossing them aside, she grinned when his fingers immediately spread out across her bared torso. She paused only briefly before similarly dispatching of her pink bra and then captured his mouth with hers again, moaning into him when he cupped her breasts with his hands and flicked his thumbs over her nipples.

Snape gradually left her mouth and began trailing kisses down the length of her neck and collarbone. A gasp escaped her lips as he latched onto one of her nipples, and while his tongue assailed the sensitive bud, she ran her hands through his hair and clutched him close to her chest. By the time he had finished applying the same treatment to her other hardened peak, the young witch was trembling with need.

"Severus," she panted, grinding against the bulge in his trousers. "Now… please."

"As you wish," he murmured, shifting to lay her down on the seat cushions. For a few seconds he considered undressing by hand, but upon hearing her desperate whimpers, he magically vanished their remaining clothes and settled over her.

"Don't wait," she groaned, reaching for him. "Do it now."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly bossy?" the man quipped.

"Yes." Her chuckle melted into a loud moan, and she immediately arched against his chest as he slid inside of her. "Oh god… yes."

For several minutes they moved together until Hermione cried out unintelligibly as she spasmed around him. Instead of pushing through to his own completion, however, the wizard halted his motions and merely watched her as she came down from her pleasured high. When she gave him a heavy-lidded smile, he pressed a quick kiss to her mouth before withdrawing his still hardened member from her channel.

"No, wait…" she cried, failing to grab hold of him. "Where are you going?"

"Not anywhere far," he smirked, bending over to scoop her into his arms. "After the abysmal performance last time, I figure I had better make up for it."

Slipping her arms around his neck, the witch glanced over her shoulder to see that their destination was a large bed that the Room had silently provided. "Oh, indeed you'd better."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Half an hour later found the young woman falling asleep with her head on his chest. As a stray thought entered her mind, however, she launched forward with a panicked gasp.

"What?" the man asked, opening his own drooping eyelids.

Hermione glanced back at him with a worried expression on her face. "Severus, you didn't happen to bring a contraceptive with you, did you?"

"Shite," he whispered, covering his eyes with his hand. "I wasn't expecting this particular conclusion, so I did not."

"Well, what do we –"

"Dobby!" the man shouted, interrupting her question.

As the elf popped into the room, the witch squawked loudly and immediately yanked the thick comforter over her head.

"Is Hermione Granger alright, Master Snape, sir?" Dobby asked, leaning onto his tiptoes to peer at the quivering green lump on the bed.

"Yes, she's fine."

"Is you sure?"

"I am," he smirked, propping himself up on one elbow. "She's merely trying to hide her current nakedness."

A muffled sound of protest came from the girl, and Severus grunted when her hand shot out beneath the blanket to punch his side.

Dobby's eyes widened slightly. "Is Master Snape, sir alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he rolled his eyes. "Now, I need you to fetch one of the salmon-hued potions from my bedside table."

"Of course, Master Snape, sir!" the elf cried, popping into thin air. A short moment later, he returned with the vial in hand.

"Thank you, Dobby," the man mumbled as he took the proffered flask.

The creature beamed before disappearing once again. At the sound of his departure, Hermione tossed the covers off of her head. Snatching the potion out of his hand, she fixed her bed partner with a glare.

Severus waited until she had ingested the contraceptive before shrugging. "I assure you, that elf has been aware of our relationship since the beginning. He's been sworn to secrecy."

"That's not the point," she snapped, grabbing hold of a pillow and swatting him with it. "You could have warned me beforehand!"

"I'm sorry," he snorted as he tugged the makeshift weapon from her hand.

"Arse," the girl muttered beneath her breath, turning away from him and pulling the blankets up to her chin. After a few minutes, she sighed and snuggled back against his side. "How long can you stay?"

Snape took in a long breath before glancing down at her. "Probably longer than you can."

"I have until supper," she stated, tracing her fingers over one of the thin scars from his most recent bout of torture. When he stilled her hand, she tucked it between their bodies and then cleared her throat. "I wanted to ask you something before I meet with Draco tomorrow."

"And what might that be?"

"Well, I was wondering…" She paused briefly to stare at his left forearm as he raised it to run his hand over his face. "… if the Dark Mark is similar to the magic of the binding."

There was an uncomfortable hitch in his breath before he finally answered. "Yes, I do believe it is quite similar… albeit less autonomous. Why do you ask that?"

"Because I was thinking about the salve you made for when my marking burns, and was curious if it would work for Draco," Hermione replied quietly. "I mean, he's obviously in a really dangerous position and needs to be able to think clearly. It would be hard enough to do that with his mother's safety at risk, but how could he possibly do so if he's in constant pain? I wouldn't be able to do it."

The wizard closed his eyes and tapped his fingertips against the mattress as he considered it. A moment later, he cleared his throat. "In theory, I suppose it should work. I do not believe it will bring complete relief as it does to yours since it was not my magic that created the bond. Furthermore, the mechanism of the Dark Mark is different from the binding as it depends upon free will for it to establish correctly."

"What do you mean?"

Snape grimaced as he pushed himself into a seated position. "The manner in which I bound you to myself was intended to be used to enslave a woman against her will, which is why it worked immediately though you were initially still underage. The Dark Mark, however, requires that the individual to be marked is entering into servitude willingly – at least at the start."

Clutching the blankets to her chest, the witch sat forward and turned to look at him. "I didn't imagine that Vol –"

"The Dark Lord," he corrected.

"The Dark Lord," she repeated with a sigh. "Anyway, I cannot quite imagine that he would be very enthralled by the notion of free will."

The man snorted softly as he folded his arms. "Of course he isn't. But the Dark Mark is a symbol of his trust. He does not grant it to any but his Inner Circle because he uses it as another protection against deception. If one of his supposed followers refuses the Mark when it is offered, it is assumed that they are disloyal and are dispatched of rather quickly. Similarly, if someone accepts the Mark, but it does not function correctly, it is seen as another level of treachery altogether."

"But what about yours?" she gasped, looking at his arms in fear.

He shook his head. "Once the magic is set, it is set. At the time I joined him, I did so willingly. Lucius had spent so many years convincing me of the honor it would be to serve the Dark Lord, and had promised that because of my academic and magical prowess, that he was sure to overlook the issue of my Muggle heritage… provided, of course, that I renounce it entirely. Given my rather narrow view of it, I had no qualms in doing just that."

Severus took in a deep breath and glared into empty space. "The Dark Lord used to be exceptionally charming when he wanted to be. If he had an interest in you or your abilities, he made it well known. I would have given nearly anything to have that level of recognition and support, and he knew it. I swore fealty to him and immediately received his patronage for my Potions Mastery. While I worked to become the youngest Master in over two hundred years, he took me under his wing, so to speak, and sold me every lie you could imagine. And I bought them all, until…"

"Until he went after Harry… and Lily," the girl supplied when he trailed off.

The wizard nodded slowly before clearing his throat. "Anyway, my point is that the Dark Mark only requires free will at the outset. If the Mark is accepted without true devotion, it will burn and be utterly useless except as a means of detecting and punishing untrustworthy followers. That being said, since Draco does not reach his majority until June, he cannot actually consent to anything – magically or otherwise. In June, it will likely take hold properly and the Dark Lord will be able to use it as a means of summoning him."

"I see," she murmured, wrapping her arms around her knees as she tried to fight off the feeling of nausea that was threatening to claim her. "Would the salve work at all?"

"It may," he answered. "Likely it will provide temporary relief, but will wear off over the course of the day. It may need to be frequently reapplied."

"Do you have any extra that I could bring him tomorrow?"

Snape shook his head lightly. "Not at the exact moment, but I can prepare a new batch this evening. It only has to sit overnight before it can be used."

"Okay," Hermione mumbled as she slowly settled back against the mattress. Tugging the comforter over her shoulder, she turned against his side and then stifled a yawn.

"You should sleep," he stated. "There may be remaining injuries from apparition attempts that may delay your brewing."

The witch groaned softly, shifting slightly against him. "Will you wake me in an hour or so?"

As he grunted in the affirmative, she closed her eyes and slipped her arm around his. "Thank you."

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

Hermione gripped her wand tightly as she crept through the darkened corridors. Though she was disillusioned and could technically claim that she was simply running late conducting her rounds, her heart was pounding in her chest at the prospect of getting caught out after curfew. Of course, it was highly probable that her anxiety stemmed more from the fact that she was sneaking through the castle to meet with the boy that had been her sworn enemy for the past five and a half years. Draco Malfoy was probably the last student that she would have ever trusted to meet in the dead of night – besides Cormac, of course – but she could not let him suffer.

After rushing down the last set of stairs, the witch came to a sudden stop when she caught sight of a feline shape at the end of the corridor. Holding her breath, she quickly ducked behind the nearest statue and bit her lip as she heard the angry mutterings of the elderly caretaker.

At the sound of the cat's meow, the girl pressed as far back against the wall as she could.

"What have you found, my sweet?" Filch murmured, shuffling quickly toward the alerting feline. "A student out of bed?"

Shite. Hermione grimaced as the man appeared in her line of sight. As he held up his lantern and peered into the space in front of her, she forced herself to remain motionless, lest he see any trace of the disillusionment charm. Her stomach lurched when Mrs. Norris gave another cry, and she very nearly jumped when she felt something brush across her shins.

A familiar yowl sounded a second later, causing the grizzled Squib to glance down near her feet.

"You again, eh?" Filch sneered.

With a soft purr, Crookshanks rubbed against his legs and then proceeded to greet the smaller cat in a similar fashion.

"Out hunting again, Mr. Puss?" the caretaker asked, stepping back from the statue. "Hungry, are you?"

The ginger-furred cat meowed softly in response, eliciting a gruff chuckle from the man.

"Come along, sweets," he called while setting off in the direction of the staircases. "Mr. Puss is stopping by for some kippers again."

Though the mottled-colored cat glared briefly in the girl's direction, she followed her master's instruction, rushing toward his ambling form as though she were concerned the interloping cat would get her share as well.

Hermione swallowed slowly as she peered around the corner of the statue and watched her familiar's bottlebrush tail swishing in satisfaction as he pranced after the odd pair.

"Mr. Puss?" she mouthed silently once they had disappeared.

Muffled chimes drew her attention back to her original task, however, and the witch quickly sprinted the rest of the way toward the specified meeting spot. She doubted that the Slytherin would have enough patience to wait more than a few minutes for her.

Upon finally reaching the bust of the Hogsmeade village founder, Hermione glanced around in concern when she saw that the hallway was empty. Adrenaline still pumping through her system, she quickly rid herself of the cloaking charm and nervously waited for any sign that the boy was there.

A door creaked open a few seconds later, and the witch swallowed anxiously before entering an unused classroom that was filled with a number of extra desks and chairs piled against one of the walls.

"You're late," Draco sneered after shutting the door and casting a silencing charm.

"Erm, I know," she sighed. "Mrs. Norris –"

"You are alone?" he interrupted.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and then nodded. "Of course, I am."

"You're not… communicating with him or whatever the hell you did last time?" the boy pressed.

"Oh," she murmured, rubbing her shoulder with one hand. "Erm, no. I mean, he can hear through me if he wants to, but he has no wish to eavesdrop on you without your consent."

Malfoy stared at her in confusion for several seconds and then leaned back against the wall. "He actually trusts you?"

"I guess he does," the witch shrugged. "Then again, he can always just order me to reveal something if he feels I've been dishonest with him about anything."

With a small grunt, he slid down to the floor. He stared at his hands for a minute before breaking the odd silence. "Does it react like that every time?"

"If I defy a command he's given me," the girl replied quietly, "whether he's meant to or not."

The blonde raised his eyes to hers. "What do you mean, 'Or not'?"

With a slow sigh, Hermione descended into a seat on the floor beside him. "Do you remember when Harry's cauldron exploded last term?"

"Who doesn't?" Draco smirked. "Who could forget the day that Potty blew up a classroom?"

She rolled her eyes and shifted against the wall. "Well, it was also the day that Granger nearly asphyxiated to death because she was told to be quiet and still, and the act of breathing requires both sound and motion."

"What?"

"I was trying to tell him that Harry had done something stupid, but he wasn't listening to me," she explained quietly. "If it hadn't been for Ernie…"

"You'd be dead?" he asked; his face twisting in surprise.

The witch nodded and pulled her knees to her chest. "Probably not just me if that cauldron had blown any sooner."

Malfoy grunted in agreement and then turned to stare at the wall for a long moment. "So we weren't the only ones who've nearly done you in, then?"

Snorting bitterly, she shook her head. "Not even close. I mean, between you, Professor Snape, and Harry… and Bellatrix… and myself, I'm surprised I'm still here."

"Aunt Bella?" he asked shakily. "She wouldn't ruin his plan if you are as valuable as Snape claims."

"Wouldn't she?" Hermione countered, locking eyes with him as she folded her arms to her chest. "She nearly killed Se-Professor Snape the last time he was summoned."

The wizard blanched in response and hung his head as he mumbled, "He walked away on his own."

"How would you know?" she snapped. "You weren't there."

"The fuck I wasn't!" the boy hissed, glaring at her. "It was the first day I was home on holiday! It happened in my fucking house!"

The brunette closed her eyes briefly as she realized he did not know about the more recent occurrence. "I'm sorry. I wasn't referring to that time."

"That time?" he repeated. "What do you mean 'that time'?"

Leaning back against the wall, she cleared her throat. "He was summoned again two weeks ago, and the Dark Lord let her torture him. He… he was practically dead when he returned."

"Two weeks ago?" he whispered. "Why?"

Hermione paused momentarily, but decided it could not hurt anything to tell him. "Because I dropped Defense."

The boy's face fell, and he immediately averted his eyes to the wall. After taking in a deep breath, he narrowed his eyebrows. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have done that! And maybe you should have just gone with Potter over Christmas like you were supposed to!"

Flinching at his defensive tone, she launched to her feet and stepped further into the room. "Oh, and I suppose you would have had a perfectly logical explanation that I could give Harry for why halfway through holiday Professor Snape had to sneak into my bed!"

"What?" he hissed, rising to his feet.

"The bond has to be renewed every fortnight or so, or else it kills me," she explained angrily. "And the only way to do that –"

"You have to shag Snape?" Draco gasped; eyes wide. "Repeatedly?"

Hermione drew to her full height and raised her chin. "So what if I do?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, sinking against the nearest desk. "I mean… Merlin, who would have thought you would ever put out?"

Her mouth parted in anger; the witch balled her hands into fists.

"I just assumed that was the reason why Weasel-face is messing around with that tart," he shrugged, "but if you're letting Snape up your skirts, then who wouldn't you–"

"You are such a bloody prat, Malfoy!" she shouted. "I'm just trying to help you because I thought maybe you were worth helping, but if you're just going poke fun at me for what I have to do, you can just sod off! And for your information, he's the only one I have and will ever sleep with, thanks to this stupid curse!"

Giving an exasperated groan, the witch stormed past him toward the door. After yanking it open, she paused to dig into the pocket of her robes. Extracting a small jar, she launched it at his head. "Unless you're ready to grow up, don't bother contacting me again."

With that, she slammed the door behind her and disappeared down the hallway.

XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX

The next day, Hermione could not bring herself to look in Severus's direction during Potions or at lunch. She knew that he was waiting for her to report on any progress she had made with Draco, and she was dreading his reaction to how she had handled herself. The knowledge that she could have just destroyed any chance of the pureblood trusting them with the details of his mission had kept her up most of the night. And now that the school day was coming to an end, she was running out of time before she had to attend her private lesson. She highly doubted that Snape would let her leave without addressing the issue.

Why couldn't I just bite my tongue? The girl sighed softly as she chastised herself for the umpteenth time that day. Looking up from her notes, she let her gaze drift over to the desk where the blonde Slytherin sat. Before she could quite look away, though, the boy glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with her.

When there appeared to be no animosity held within his gaze, she sucked in an uncertain breath and focused her attention back on the Arithmancy lesson. After a few minutes, though, she saw something move in her peripheral vision, and upon glancing back toward him, noticed that he had inconspicuously let a small, crumpled piece of parchment fall to the floor. For a brief moment, she thought it must have been unintentional, but when Malfoy nudged it with his foot, she knew otherwise.

The rest of the hour passed while the girl was preoccupied over what the contents of his message could be. The fear niggling at the back of her mind assumed it was a rather nastily-articulated note telling her watch her back, but there was a very slight, hopeful voice claiming that he would not waste the effort to be subtle about it in that case. Perhaps I didn't ruin it completely.

Upon the conclusion of the class period, Hermione deliberately delayed in packing her bag so that she was the last to leave the room. With everyone else gone, she quickly snatched up the paper and then unfurled it. A smile crept onto her face as she read the five words he had penned.

Sunday – same time and place.

Shoving the note into her pocket, she rushed out of the room with a much lighter heart. Suddenly, she was quite excited for her lesson that evening.