For the first time since she arrived in the manor, Hermione felt refreshed after sleeping through a full night without nightmares or interruptions. It was a miracle, but a sense of optimism had returned to her. She had started to meditate throughout the days, and yesterday, after being left unsatisfied and annoyed, she finally had the desired breakthrough.

Voldemort's book actually turned out to be more enlightening than she initially expected. It provided important information on its own, but combined with some of the more obscure texts she read in the 12 hours Voldemort gave her before snatching her away, it painted a fuller picture of magic. That she had parents that studied medicine and imparted some of their knowledge about the human body to her along the way also helped immensely.

For the moment, she had to put aside any further reading though. Another Saturday meant that another round of training was upon her.

She wished she could skip it. After what he did the night before, Hermione was not too keen on being close to Voldemort again. She knew exactly what he was doing, and despite all her efforts, she did not yet know how to stop him – or retaliate.

Similarly, facing Snape again after the Legilimency lesson was not a fun prospect. She'd rather endure his silent company at the breakfast table than have to duel him again. She just knew that he would find a way to use his deep knowledge of her intimate memory against her.

Still. She was finally getting somewhere. While she didn't know what Voldemort wanted from her, she was very close to cracking what was up with the aura magic. One very important part she had already figured out. She now only needed to puzzle together how the brush of another's magic against her aura made her feel such intense emotions. Once she understood that, she would be able to resist him, and maybe even turn it around and control him. In the meantime, training to become stronger was never a bad thing, even if she hated both training partners.

Standing before the huge wardrobe, she contemplated her options. She needed something she would be able to move and sweat in, but she still wanted to keep up her newly developed image that Narcissa Malfoy helped her craft. Her eyes travelled along the many new pairs of trousers she had. The black one was made out of wool and was wide enough to move in, but still elegant. Paired with a tight black turtle neck jumper, it would make her fit right in with the two dark-clad wizards.

Looking at herself in a mirror, she felt her confidence grow. She was a witch in her own right. She was an adult and she would not cower in front of an abusive teacher or a Dark Lord. If Voldemort was right, she possessed more magical power than Snape. She would show them today that she was indeed not to be underestimated. By anyone.

For a moment, she thought about leaving her wild hair be. She had grown to like it natural in all its curly glory. But today, she needed it out of her face. With a sigh, she decided to braid it into two tight Dutch braids, leaving only the hair below her shoulders flow freely. It still provided her with the feeling of untamed nature while at the same time preventing any free strand of hair from getting in her way.

With a last look in the mirror, she gave herself a short nod. Yes. This was her battle dress. She would not be intimidated. She would not fear to look Snape or Voldemort in the eye.

"You look magnificent, sweet witch," Voldemort greeted her as she entered the training room.

To her surprise, he was alone, leaning against a wall in a show of utter relaxation. For a moment, Hermione got her hopes up that maybe, Snape would not be joining them today. Taking another deep, steadying breath, she stepped close to the tall, slender figure of the Dark Lord.

"Just us today?"

He smiled at her. "No. Severus will be joining us shortly. Something at Hogwarts needed his attention, so he is delayed."

With a sigh, she resigned to her fate. She had something prepared for Snape, so she at least had something to look forward to. But she still would have preferred to not see him again so soon.

When she looked up again, the smile was gone from Voldemort's lips. Instead, a steely expression took over his features. She swallowed. Why was he already angry again?

"My sweet little Hermione," he purred as he forced her back against the wall, "I can't help but feel that you are intentionally antagonising me. Don't force me to do something that we'll both regret."

A shiver ran down her spine as she picked up a stone-cold tone in his voice. The last couple of days, it seemed as though any little thing she did upset him. There was a madness in his eyes that was so very different from his usual arrogant self.

She licked her lips. "I don't understand. I've said that too many times the past few days, and I hate saying it, but I simply don't see what I'm doing wrong."

For a moment, he simply stared into her eyes. Then, very slowly, he reached down to grab both her hands. Just as slowly, he brought them up until he could grab both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head. Hermione's pulse quickened. It was so easy for him to trap her like this, make her feal exposed and vulnerable. It was not only his physical strength that overpowered her, but the subtle feel of his magic in the air around them.

He made his presence known, subduing her in every sense of the word. He was just so powerful.

The long fingers of his right hand caressed her cheek before grabbing her jaw and forcing her head back harshly. He was leaning down slightly, staring right into her eyes, unblinking, unmoving. He was close enough that she could feel his hot breath on her face, see every twitch of his eye or working of his jaw. It was not just madness that she saw there. It was something more, something intense. Almost desperate.

Before she was able to determine what exactly she was seeing, he closed the last distance and pulled her into a demanding kiss. His whole body pressed against her, one leg firmly slotted between her thighs, as he devoured her without holding back. Where his lips felt velvety and cool, just like the rest of his body, she could sense an urgency in his kiss that burned hot and fast.

She allowed her eyes to fall close. He would take whatever he wanted anyway, there was nothing she could do about it. He didn't ask, he just took. Sliding his tongue between her lips, exploring her, claiming her. The hand around her jaw gripped her harder, holding her in place. With every second, every swipe of his tongue and every low groan he tried to hold back, she felt herself grow hotter. The coolness of his hands was almost welcome as heat spread across her cheeks – and down between her legs.

She didn't understand why this was happening. What that emotion was that she just witnessed in his eyes. The only thing she could do was keep her body still, forcing her hips to not rub against the leg that was so deliciously pressed between her thighs.

She should be furious that he was doing this again after treating her like dirt the day before. But she couldn't. That urgency. That desperation. It filled her with a desire, a high that was too sweet to forgo. Her eyes fluttered open again, drinking in the marble skin of his face.

He pulled back a little, just enough to look into her eyes again. His mouth was a thin, tense line, but his nostrils flared as he suppressed another groan. Without breaking eye contact, Hermione licked her lips once in a languid movement, just barely containing the smirk she felt rise in her.

For a heartbeat, she could feel his fingernails dig into the skin of her jaw. Then, he loosened his grip. Still holding her gaze, he slipped two fingers between her lips. She could feel him press down on her tongue, pumping in and out of her mouth ever so slightly. She almost moaned in return, barely catching the sound before it left her lips. Instead, she blinked once, very slowly, and then purposefully swirled her tongue around his fingers.

He went completely still. She could feel his whole body tense, the grip around her wrists tighten, as his glare bored into her. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins. For a long second, she feared she had pushed him too far.

"My lord." The deep, gravely voice of Severus Snape cut through the tension like a whip. "Should I return later?"

Despite herself, Hermione felt her face turn bright red. Of course, he would show up now. Eager to escape the situation, she jerked against the hand holdings her arms above her head, but Voldemort did not budge.

Instead, he very deliberately turned his gaze towards the door, where Snape stood. For a split second, Hermione was tempted to look over as well, but just then, Voldemort pulled his fingers from her mouth. Instantly, his lips were on her again, forcing her into an open-mouthed kiss that lacked all the urgency from before. Growling, she tried to turn her face, but he held her in place, never looking at her.

Finally, he let go of her. With a huff, she pulled her hands to her chest, rubbing over her wrists that felt raw from the harshness of his grip. She wanted to curse him for doing this again, but she held back. He would suffer for this later. Not in front of Snape.

"Severus." Voldemort's voice was back to sounding all relaxed and superior. "How good of you to join us. We are both so very excited to have you."

Hermione's eyes flicked over to Snape, who still stood motionless right next to the door. His face was a cold mask of calmness, as she was used to. Nothing betrayed what he thought about what he just witnessed. She doubted that this was another planned incident by Voldemort, but it still played out as before in the library. She felt embarrassed, Snape was unimpressed, and Voldemort himself was too gleeful and pleased with himself.

Forcing the embarrassment and shame down, she straightened her back. She swallowed once to make sure she had full control over her voice. Feeling her confidence return, she caught Snape's gaze, raised an eyebrow, and then deliberately turned to Voldemort. "Am I allowed to kill him today?"

He laughed at that, sharp and cold. "You know I hate to deprive you of anything that would make you happy, my sweet. But no. Despite all his failures, he is still useful to me." He turned his eyes to the other wizard. "For now."

From the corner of her eyes, Hermione could see Snape clasp his hands behind his back. He still seemed so composed, so calm. She made death threats against him and Voldemort implied his approval, and still this man did not care at all. She hated him all the more for it. If he cared so little for his own life, he should have thrown himself off the Astronomy tower when he had the chance.

"Pity," she drawled.

"Your teaching methods must be truly horrendous if this is how the ever-studious Hermione Granger reacts to just one Occlumency lesson with you, Severus."

Snape finally moved. With measured steps, he crossed the room until he stood on the opposite wall. "If my methods are not to your liking, we can always end them, Miss Granger, as I told you before."

Voldemort turned to her, wearing an expression of fake concern. "Is he not gentle with you, my dear?"

"I would hope that Miss Granger can see that if I were any gentler, no lessons would be learned at all."

Hermione let out a long sigh. These two men were fighting in front of her, acting as though any of this actually revolved around her. She had no patience for that.

Pulling out her wand, she shot Voldemort a cold glare. "Can we please just get this training over with? This whole conversation is a waste of time."

"Far be it from me to displease you." There was a question in his snake-like eyes, but whatever it was, he was not saying anything.

Instead, he gestured her to stand opposite of Snape and then asked them both to get ready. Nervous energy gripped Hermione's body. She was still not convinced that she actually was stronger – there was a high probability that Voldemort was lying to her just to make her pliable. But at least for today, she had something prepared that had the potential to catch Snape off guard. Another victory would taste all the sweeter after the torture he put her through with the Occlumency lesson.

"You will both attack and defend today," Voldemort instructed them. "I know you think it chivalrous to hold back against a lady, Severus, but the point of this is to force each other to go to the extent of your powers. You will only stop once one of you depletes your magical energy."

"As you wish, my lord."

Fixing her gaze on her opponent, Hermione got ready. Her strategy was untested and bold, but if she learned anything from Ron and Harry, it was that being bold usually paid off more than making elaborate plans. She would show Snape that she was not a little school girl anymore.

Emptying her mind, she recalled the feeling she achieved while meditating. Now that she knew what to look for, it was easier to replicate. Just a few heartbeats, and she found it. Suppressing a smug grin, she channelled just the tiniest bit of her magic into it, preparing for what was to come.

"Ready," she said, her eyes still trained on Snape.

He nodded in agreement. "Ready."