He hated her. Everything about her. And yet she was his purpose in life. No one gave him as much attention as she did. She took care of all his needs. Those moments when she let him get intimate with her, when they had uninhibited, animalistic sex, were the highlights of his day. It was the only pleasure he had. She hit him, she insulted him, she humiliated him. And he hated her for it.

Like right now. She had been walking barefoot through the rooms all morning, her feet had turned black from all the dirt she never intended to remove. And of course it was now his job to clean her feet. Carefully he looked up from his position on the floor, her big toe still between his lips. His mistress had sensitive feet; it was highly dangerous to tickle them. He wanted to make an effort to do everything right.

Merlin, how he hated her.

"You're doing very well, my dear," she purred when she noticed his gaze, "When you're done, I want to reward you properly. Good boy."

A reward. He knew what she would reward him with. He eagerly set about licking away the last of the dust and dirt. When he finally finished and looked up at her again, she met him with a smile. "Oh, I see the anticipation has done all the work for you. Look how hard you are already."

He looked down at himself in amazement. He didn't even notice how his cock swelled, but now, when she spoke to him, he felt an almost painful throbbing. She promised him a reward. He looked at her with wide, pleading eyes.

Laughing, she pushed up her skirts. As always, she wasn't wearing any underwear. He was about to get up to join her on the sofa, but she raised her hand imperiously. "Sit! You watch first!"

Whimpering, he let himself fall back onto the floor. Everything inside him was crying out to sink into her. The memory of the countless times they had done it together flooded his mind and made him shudder with excitement. Moaning, he watched as she pleasured herself with her fingers. She didn't take her eyes off him for a second, a knowing grin on her face. Just when he thought he couldn't take it any longer, she released him. "Come on."

It only took a blink of an eye before he was on top of her, spreading her legs and thrusting deep inside her. Although they had had sex countless times before, he was still overwhelmed by the feeling of her wet tightness every time. It felt great. He would go through all the agony in the world just to be able to feel that pleasure one more time and one more time.

By Merlin, he loved Bellatrix Lestrange.

oOoOoOo

Hermione stopped and forced Snape to do the same. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she turned to him. "You must be a very egotistical man to insinuate that a woman you have raped is in love with you."

Snape winced inwardly - his face, however, only grew colder. "Where has your superior listening ability gone, Miss Granger? I didn't say you were in love with me, I said you exhibited typical behavioural patterns. And I explicitly asked you what you're playing at by doing so."

She gasped angrily. "I'm not playing at anything! You should know better than anyone that I can't lie to you. You're the one who always accuses me of that! So why do you suddenly think I'm capable of deceiving you?"

That made him wonder. She was right, he might not have seen through all her actions so far, but he still recognised a lie. He had learnt to interpret Hermione Granger's facial expressions during his years at Hogwarts and that hadn't changed to this day. So, if she wasn't trying to deceive him, did he simply misunderstand her behaviour? He had been very sure. He cleared his throat. "Whatever you say. I hope you realise the consequences of your actions."

Hermione nodded. They continued on their way in silence until finally Snape broke the silence. "I come with bad news. I have not found a solution to our wand problem."

"Oh."

"It is impossible for me to organise a wand for you, no matter which way I have tried. But without a wand for you, it will be impossible to turn the plan into reality. We're running out of time, I don't have a plan B."

Surprised, Hermione looked up at Snape. His tone conveyed the tiniest hint of concern, but the fact that she could perceive it at all clearly showed her how desperate he had to be. The Christmas party scheduled by Voldemort was in less than two weeks, that was a tight window of opportunity. And unfortunately, he was right: unless both of them had a wand, their plan was doomed to fail. Her thoughts involuntarily wandered to Lucius.

"Sir," she began, but immediately broke off again. She promised Lucius not to say anything, even if his worries about Snape were unfounded. Or were they? Could she really be completely sure that this wasn't all a trap to find out which side Malfoy was on through her? No, she couldn't think along those lines. She had to trust Snape; she had to bet everything on this card, it was the best, the only chance she had.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Snape asked when he realised that she wasn't speaking.

"If ... just suppose," she began cautiously, "If I had a chance to get a wand myself. Would that help?"

"How would you do that?"

Hermione thought feverishly. She didn't want to betray Lucius, but if she said she had a possible ally, Snape would quickly be able to put two and two together. What was she supposed to say?

"I promised not to talk," she said quietly, "But I now find myself forced to break that promise, at least in part. Someone has revealed himself to me. Possibly ... he or she would fight on our side."

She could see Snape's knuckles turning white with tension. "What have you done, Miss Granger?"

"I didn't say anything about you, sir, you'll have to take my word for it. He started it all by himself. That he wants to be by my side. And by that I mean on my side."

"Did Lucius fuck your brains out?"

Hermione took a step back in horror. "What?"

"Didn't I make myself clear last week? Didn't I make it unmistakably clear that you shouldn't believe anyone who presents themselves as an ally? How can you even consider it?"

It was the first time Hermione had ever seen Snape so angry. Sure, he had shown anger or annoyance towards Harry in particular when he was at school, but it had always been controlled, he had only ever shown as much emotion as was necessary to intimidate his counterpart. This was different. Before her stood a Snape who was barely able to control his anger. A Snape who was not displaying calculated anger, but was seriously upset. Instinctively, she took another step back.

"Are you in love with Lucius?"

Hermione could only stare open-mouthed. Snape grabbed her hard by the upper arms and repeated, "Are you in love?"

"No!" she screamed at him, "What are you thinking? And what does that have to do with this?"

"Everything!" he hissed angrily, "Can't you see that? He's trying to make you compliant so you'll trust him. Are you that blind?"

"Why did you think I was talking about him in the first place?" Hermione returned defensively, "I could be talking about Draco. Or Mrs Malfoy!"

"As if Narcissa, who accused her own husband of treason, would suddenly side with you. And Draco?" Snape said scornfully, "Draco is a coward."

Determined, Hermione freed herself from the tight grip and stood up to her full height. "Fine. Fine. Yes, I was talking about Lucius Malfoy. I promised him I wouldn't tell you anything, but there's more to it than that. So. I believe Mr Malfoy when he says he doesn't want to live under You-Know-Who anymore. Whether I trust him is another matter. But I do believe him."

Snape took a step back as if stunned. "You ... really? How did he get you to believe in him?"

"Long story," she replied stubbornly, "The fact is, he's an emotional wreck and he's certainly not deceiving me with that. At this point, he'd do anything to escape his misery. Look at it from his perspective: he's been at the bottom of the food chain among the Death Eaters since the affair at the Ministry. His wife is a psychopath, his son is ... a coward!" Hermione explained. She had to swallow when she spoke about Draco like that, but she couldn't bring herself to betray him as well. "You-Know-Who tried to get revenge on him through Draco. And you may say what you like about Lucius Malfoy, but he loves his son. Do you really think he can wholeheartedly follow a man who threatened his son?"

She knew that these were all the arguments that Lucius himself had used to convince her of his sincerity. They had worked. She believed him, but she didn't know if she could trust him to be brave enough to commit to a fight to the death if the worst came to the worst. That was the catch.

"Miss Granger," Snape whispered, "I ... I'm finished."

Before her eyes, her former potions teacher, Severus Snape, a successful double spy for many years, slumped to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Overwhelmed, she stood looking down at him, oblivious to the onset of the freezing sleet.

"Sir..."

"The celebration ... It was our only chance. Who knows when he'll be back on this estate at the same time as me? Apart from you, there's no one who can help me. No one. How can you ... why? You just threw it away like that."

Hermione didn't know what to do. Kneeling before her in the dirt was the man who had been her rock for the last few weeks, her beacon of hope. A man whom nothing could shake, who had borne the burden of being a double agent since his youth, who had disguised himself, who had taken over this difficult task from Dumbledore without complaining. He knelt there, completely motionless, his face hidden, looking as if all life had left his body.

"I didn't throw it away," she whispered, but her words didn't seem to get through to him. How could she have known that he would react to her words like that? Or could she have? She had recently shed endless tears when she realised how great the burden on his shoulders was and how much suffering he had to be carrying inside him. And she had admired him for still not giving up, for going his own way with stoic calm, doing what had to be done and sacrificing himself for everyone else. Hadn't she wondered how anyone could carry such a burden without breaking? Shouldn't she have realised that a single push could be enough to break the camel's back? What should she do now?

Hesitantly, she squatted down, ignoring the fact that her coat was also getting dirty, put the basket to one side, and slowly reached for his hand. She was shocked to realise that it was freezing cold. Slowly and carefully, she pulled the hand away from his face, closed both her hands around it and then brought it to her own cheek.

"You're not alone," she whispered softly but firmly, "You don't have to carry this alone. I'm here, by your side. Look at me."

To her relief, Snape actually woke from his stupor and looked her straight in the eye. As firmly as she could, she said, "Trust me. I know this may be unfamiliar to you because you probably haven't trusted anyone in years. But for your own sake: Trust me. Let me help you."