4

This one gets a little visually rough.

Hermione woke and groaned; every part of her was sore. She tried to move and couldn't figure out why she couldn't. Then she realized that Severus was spooned against her, and one of his heavy arms was draped over her waist. She lay still, feeling him against her and marveling that he would cuddle with her on his own.

Severus Snape was an enigma. When she was a child, he seemed hard and impenetrable; now, she saw a vulnerable man who wanted acceptance and desperately needed tenderness. How had this man kept himself so deeply buried in that persona? Had he been crying inside for acceptance? She felt tears burn her eyes.

She felt him shift away from her. He rose from the bed and peered into her face. She pretended to be asleep as she felt him touch her face gently.

"So beautiful... I will die trying to keep you safe," he whispered.

He walked away, and Hermione opened her eyes a slit to see that he was dressed in a long nightshirt. He went into the loo and closed the door. She stretched her sore muscles and grimaced as she pulled herself into a sitting position. She heard the toilet flush and the water run as he washed his hands. Then the door opened, and Severus came out. He was running his hand through his hair and over his face. He looked exhausted. He straightened when he saw she was awake.

"Miss Granger, how are you this morning?" he asked, coming to stand close to the bed.

Hermione swung her legs over the edge of the bed and said, "I think we are intimate enough for you to call me Hermione all the time." She reached out to him. "I hurt everywhere, but I need to use the loo."

Severus reached up to take a hold of her arm below her shoulder and helped her up. He guided her to the door. "I will have a potion for the pain when you come out. Do you want breakfast?"

"No, I think I'd like to go back to bed." When she finished her ablutions, she returned to the main room. Hermione climbed back into the bed, and Severus covered her with the blankets. She settled against the pillows he had propped up for her. He gave her the potion, and she drank, grimacing at the flavor.

"Would you come back to bed, Severus?" she asked, patting the bed beside her.

He looked hopeful and then guarded at the same time.

"Please," she begged.

He crawled back into the other side of the bed but stayed on top of the covers. Hermione moved into his arms and settled against his chest. She heard him sigh ever so slightly, and she smiled. She threaded her fingers through one of his hands. "I feel safe when you hold me," she said.

"It is an illusion. I cannot guarantee your safety. I will try my best."

She said, "That's all you can do, Severus, and I appreciate it." She rubbed his hand. "Your hands have always fascinated me."

"Really?" His voice was sarcastic.

She snorted. "Yes, they really have. You had such a way with cutting and preparing potion ingredients. It was like watching an artist work. I missed the demonstrations as we got into our NEWT years and you no longer showed us what to do." The pain in all her muscles was fading as the potion took effect. She turned over in his arms and with her face inches from his asked, "Could you care for me Severus? Am I more than just a slave to you?"

"Would you want me to... care?" The word came hard from his mouth, as if he had to break through barriers to even speak a word with a little emotion in it.

She leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss. He did not respond, though his eyes were softer when she pulled back. "Yes, I want you to care. You are all I have left in this world."

"That's tough on you," he said. "No one has ever wanted me to care before."

She smirked at him...a good imitation of the smirk he often wore. "I do. As crazy as that may seem in this environment, I desperately want you to care."

He answered her by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tightly across his chest. Then he turned, pulling her across him. She ended up on her back with him partially hovering over her. His lips came down to cover hers, and he ravaged her mouth. Then his lips went to her neck, and she felt him suck there. She'd never allowed a boy to mark her, but she wanted him to mark her now. She wanted Voldemort to see that he had claimed her. She pulled the nightshirt up and caressed his bottom, and he thrust his hips against her. She pulled on the nightshirt, and he pulled away long enough for her to draw it over his head and toss it away. She needed him to prove to her that she was worth something right now. She felt alive when he was with her, in her. He tore the gauzy white gown she wore off her, and she wondered how many more he had...or if he just keep repairing the same one.

He must have had the same idea because he did not wait for foreplay but urged her to allow him access, and he thrust into her.

She wasn't quite ready, and it hurt, but she didn't say anything because she wanted him as much as he seemed to want her. Soon the pain receded. She hung on as he pulled her up so that he was on his knees. He sat back until his bottom sat against his own legs, and she was in his lap with her legs clamped around him. "I do care a lot," he said, breathing heavily. He did all the work, raising and lowering her on his hard shaft. She threw her head back, thrusting against him, griping his arms.

"Hermione." He groaned her name as he came. He dropped her back onto the bed, and she thought he was going to leave her unsatisfied. But he used wandless magic to clean her, and then he went down between her knees and devoured her. His tongue slipped in and out, his teeth nipped her, and his lips sucked her until she screamed her release against his mouth. He covered her body with his and kissed her deeply, and she tasted herself in his mouth.

"I can't get enough of you," he said.

"I am here for you, Severus," she promised him. And she knew in her heart she would be. He was her captor, but he was also her future. She knew she'd let him take her heart with his need, with his gentleness, and with his vow to try his best to save her.

He fell back against the pillows and drew her with him, pulling a sheet over them. He spoke in an almost inaudible whisper, "If we are to destroy him, we must do it quickly. You will have to carry the potion, Hermione. He will not expect it from you."

Hermione nodded and felt his grip on her tighten.

"I can not lose you now...not now when I have just found you," he moaned.

"Severus," she cried. "I will do whatever it takes for us to have a future and to avenge so many good wizards and witches... my friends."

"Come then." He pushed her from him and got up. With his wand he cleaned and dressed them both, and then he took her by the hand and pulled her from the room.

He took her into the living room and grabbed some books off the shelf. One was about dark potions; another was about venom. He also handed her a journal.

"Hermione, I had an idea years ago to create a poison that would kill Voldemort, but Dumbledore would have nothing to do with it. He insisted the prophecy was the only way. I have formulated some ideas in my head and made brief notes, but I could not finalize the research. Voldemort often pokes around in my brain. If he discovered this plot in my mind, I wouldn't live a minute. Desperate times call for desperate measures. We have no choice now. We will have to try. You read these and make notes, and I will fashion the device I have been considering for years."

"You won't lock me in the bedroom again?" she asked.

"No, but the house is warded as much for my safety as yours. Promise you will not try to leave while I go down to my lab."

Hermione reached out to squeeze his hand, "I promise, Severus. You are our best chance of surviving this war." She dropped her gaze to look at the book.

Survival...was that all he meant to her? He was a fool; of course it was. He was heading down the stairs to his lab when he heard her say, "I will miss you, Severus. Come up soon." He felt a warmness he had never felt before flow around him. More the fool he was, needing her. It would get both of them killed. Right now, looking back over the last years of his life, he would lose it all for the few days he'd had in her arms.

He entered his lab and found his tools. He took out a box with the small metal parts and set to work. Hours later, he heard steps coming down. He looked up to see Hermione peaking around the curve of the steps. She looked afraid, but she smiled at him. "May I work down here? It was so empty upstairs."

"Of course." He got up, cleared a tabletop, and set a tall stool in front of it for her.

She sighed and set her books and parchment on the table and sat down to work.

He went back to what he was doing but kept stealing looks at her. Her brow was tight with concentration, and she kept absentmindedly tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It kept falling back into her face. He smiled slightly as he noted her ink-stained fingers, and he remembered his fingers used to be that way when he was young. He suddenly realized she was looking up at him with a smile, and his mouth twitched with a return smile.

He felt an itch to get up and take her right back to the bedroom, but he knew what they were doing was more important.

Hermione saw his look of hunger and felt a blush redden her cheeks. He went back to what he was doing, but she saw his hands tremble a bit. It made her happy that he wanted her so badly. It was heady thinking she had tamed the fierce Potion's master.

It got late, and Fancy came down to remind them to eat. They did snack, but they kept on working.

That night, as he took her again and again, she held on to him, feeling his mouth on her, writhing with his touch, and hearing his moans of pleasure. She dreamed of a home that they might share one day. Later, as he slept with his arms locked around her, sleep eluded her as the things she had read flowed through her mind. Voldemort was not just man; he was snake, too. The dose of whatever they made had to be delivered into his body. It had to paralyze him almost instantly, so he could not use his magic. It had to utterly destroy his body and what little soul he had left before he could make more Horcruxes. The device Severus was making was some sort of delivery system. He had not explained, and she had not asked. They both had agreed she would have to deliver the potion.

The next days were mirrors of that first day. Severus worked and tested his device, and Hermione read and made formulas at his direction. They would sit on the bed at night, eating and talking about the formula and discussing its properties. Both became aware that they might need some sort of sample from Voldemort to work with, but how to get it was another matter. Voldemort seldom let anyone with any power get close.

It had been five days since he'd last summoned them, and they knew time was running out. Hermione formulated a plan in her head, but she did not tell Severus. She knew he would not allow it; it could very well get her killed.

They were summoned the next morning, and Severus found himself nearly unhinged. They were not ready. They would have to go unprepared. He prayed they would survive the night and be able to continue their plan.

This time, they found themselves in an old mansion. It must have been something in its day, but now it was crumbling. Severus was curious as to why the Dark Lord still hung out in places with these conditions when he could have any Wizarding home he wanted. But then again, he was an animal. Perhaps he didn't care where he was; wild animals liked dark, cool hiding places. So did snakes.

Hermione fell at Voldermort's feet, and Severus steeled himself for what would come. Hermione threw herself at him. Clutching his feet, she cried with desperation, and Severus thought, What the bloody hell is she doing?

"Please, please give me to someone else. I cannot stand this torture any longer; he is a betrayer of everything I stood for."

Her fingers clawed at Voldemort's feet, and she felt him kick her and her ribs break. She felt a blinding pain and heard him scream at her.

"You dare touch me. Look what you've done! I'm bleeding. Severus, teach this Mudblood manners, or she dies next we meet. Now clean the wound and get her out of here."

Severus produced a handkerchief and some dittany from his pocket. He wiped the blood clean, put the healing potion on, and watched the wounds heal. His was backing away when he heard, "Crucio." His screams echoed off the walls as the pain from the curse ripped through him.

When he was released, he lay there, as he had many times in his life, waiting for dismissal. Hermione's breathing was shallow, and he feared for her, but he dared not make a move toward her.

"Take your pleasure of her now, Severus. I will see what you do to her next time. Make sure she pays, or we will give up this little game of revenge. Now get out of my sight, or I will kill her now," Voldemort screamed.

Severus crawled to Hermione, grabbed her hand, and Apparated them. He knew he'd splinched himself when he felt a burning pain on his hip. "Fancy!" he cried before blackness took him.

Hermione woke on the bed. She groaned with pain and tried to take a deep breath. "Severus," she moaned.

Fancy said, "Stay still, Madam. You is injured, and Sir has not woken yet."

Hermione tried to turn to see Severus but had to clamp her teeth together to keep from screaming from the pain. "What's wrong with him?"

"He splinched himself, and he's lost a lot of blood. I gave him the blood replenisher and closed the wound. We must wait to see if it's enough." Fancy came to her side of the bed and jumped up to stand near her. "Take this, madam. It will heal your wounds on the outside. I do not know what to do about your ribs. Sir will have to tell me."

"Bone regrow...it's on the far shelf in the lab. I saw it yesterday. It's labeled." Hermione gasped against the pain.

Fancy vanished and then returned a moment later. Hermione choked down the vile potion. She also took some of the potion for the Crucio spell and had Fancy give Severus some. She asked Fancy to get the pain potion from the bathroom, and she took some of that. "Fancy, do not use a cleaning spell on us. I have Voldemort's cells under my fingernails, and Severus has a bloody handkerchief in his... pocket. They... must be preserved." She faded into darkness.

Severus woke from a deep, dark fog and felt heavy from potions. He'd experience the morning after many times in his life and knew well the effects they had on his body.

"Hermione! Fancy!" he called.

"Fancy, is here, sir." Candles were lit, and the room glowed.

He struggled to sit. The pain was no longer in his hip, and he didn't seem worse for wear having been through Crucio yet again.

"How is Hermione?" he asked, turning to see her face.

"She seems okay. She had broken ribs but no lung damage. She bid me get bone re-grow, and she took that as well as the Crucio potion and the pain potion. I have been monitoring her breathing."

Severus looked into Hermione's pale face. "You fool," he said. He told Fancy what she had done.

"Madam said she had cells under her fingers and that I wasn't supposed to clean her. What was she talking about?"

Severus lay back. "Of course, the blood, too."

"I took the bloody cloth from your pocket, sir, and it's here on the table. I cleaned you up."

Severus struggled to his feet. "I will go get some slides. Please call me if she shows any sign of stress."

Fancy settled on the bed next to Hermione and watched her face. "Cells..." she peered at Hermione's hands. "I not see little cages..."

Severus returned with lab equipment, and he carefully scrapped under each of Hermione's fingernails of her right hand. She put the scrapping into five small bottles with a solution in them. He used his wand to siphon the blood from the handkerchief into a vial.

Hermione moaned as he finished, "Severus."

He set the vials aside and came to the other side of the bed and peered into her face. "I'm here." He caressed her face with his fingers, happy to feel no fever there.

"Oh, Merlin, I hurt," she groaned, opening one eye and peering at him.

"You're fortunate not to be dead." His voice was irritated. "I realize now why you did it, but we are lucky he still wants to be entertained by you. I have seen him kill for far less."

"I'm sorry. If you had known, you wouldn't have let me try, and we needed samples."

"Yes, we did, but you provoked him. Now he wants to see what I do to you for daring to injure him." His voice was tight, and she thought he was holding in his anger. She shivered.

"You will do what has to be done, Severus," she said, letting herself sink back into the darkness.

Severus turned away with dread in his heart. "I'm going to take a bath. Call me if she wakes again."

He found himself shaking as he stepped into the water. Before Hermione, he had always had only himself to deal with. He knew he could stand a lot of pain, and he knew his skills as a Potions Master had saved him many times, but now he had Hermione. How would they deal with this new threat and not have her end up hating him? He found himself blinking back tears, and it made him furious. "Damn, my bloody hide, I let her get to me. I will eventually have to kill her, if our plans do not work soon. Killing her will kill me, but I will tear him limb from limb if it's at all possible, first. I will not give up this life easily." He had scrubbed himself red, and the water was getting cold.

Fancy came to the door. "Madam is awake and would like to join you."

Severus nodded, and warmed the water with his wand, as Hermione, hovering an inch above the ground, came to him and was let down into his arms. He assaulted her lips, kissing her, tasting her like a drowning man.

She cried as he held her. "I'm sorry, Severus. It was the only way."

"I understand, but there are consequences, and I do not want to end this all with you hating me."

She trembled against him, and it broke his heart. "Whatever has to happen, it has to happen soon. Voldemort might call us at any time."

"What do you think the punishment should be, Hermione? What can you take and not hate me afterward? What can we do that will look bad and yet not be so horrible?" He found he was trembling at the thought of laying a heavy hand on her.

"Maybe Fancy can help with her magic. If you beat me, maybe she can keep the blows from hurting me."

Severus buried his face in her neck. "It has to be demeaning, sexual, and physiological, Hermione. He will not expect less." She collapsed against him.

She had been so afraid of him when he had taunted her about her teeth. She didn't want to fear him like that again. With a physical assault and the rest, would she be able to disengage her mind enough to not fear him afterwards?

Severus suddenly pushed her away and vaulted from the tub only to vomit into the toilet and then sag to the floor.

Hermione followed, grabbing a towel and covering him. "I'm sorry, Severus." But he had blacked out.

"Fancy!" she called, "help me get him to bed."

Fancy helped, and they tucked him in.

Hermione clutched at him and cried.

"What's wrong, madam? What has happened? Can I help?" Fancy asked in distress.

Hermione went with the little elf to the sitting room and told her what had happened and what needed to happen and asked if she had any ideas.

"I can cushion your skin with a spell so he will not physically hurt you. He will have to add the bruises like he has been doing. But the appearance of rape I cannot help you with. A mutually agreed on sexual experience with language and screams would probably work. But these pictures will be in your minds and your heads. It will not be easy to lose them afterwards."

"Could you obliviate us?" Hermione asked.

"It can be done, but you will have to request it as must he. He has always guarded his thoughts well, good or bad. It could take the memories of the relationship you have now away. You have to decide whether it is worth it or not."

Hermione looked pale and sick.

Severus appeared at the door with a hard look on his face. "It has to be done now. If he calls again and it's not, we both die."

Hermione took a deep breath. "It was my fault, Severus. We will do what we have to. Fancy says she can place a shield on my skin so I will not feel the blows."

Severus looked at Fancy. "I would be grateful for that. Place the spell on her and leave the house. Come back when either of us call."

Fancy's magic wand appeared in her hand, and she waved it over Hermione. For a moment, she appeared encased in a skintight bubble. The bubble shimmered for a minute and then sank into her skin. She did the same to Severus but put some odd bubbles like blisters on his fingers. "This will create blood for the beating. This spell will fail in 30 minutes." Fancy nodded to them and vanished.

Severus reached out his hand and touched Hermione's skin.

"I feel nothing," she said.

"Hermione, I should have kissed you before she placed the spell. He put his arms around her and held her close, and she felt nothing. Tears leaked from her eyes, wetting his shirt. "I'm sorry." His apology sounded lame.

"Stop saying that," she said fiercely. "You do what you have to do. Do whatever you think he will expect."

"You are shielded from the physical pain, but this is going to be brutally visual and demeaning, Hermione. I want you to scream and cry and beat me with your fists if you are at all able to. Make this look real: cry, beg, if you feel sick then be sick. Make your reactions honest and real. Do NOT call me Severus"

Hermione eyes were large, and fear came off her in waves. "I lo...."

"No!" he shouted, grabbing her roughly. "Don't say that, not now. If you still feel that way after, then say it. It begins now."

He grabbed her and his fist made contact with her face and the surprise of it made her scream. She cried out, "Professor Snape, please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt him. I will tell him that I want to stay with you..." Again his fist smashed into her face.

"Mudblood, if you ever touch the Dark Lord again, so help me, I will kill you myself." He dragged her from the living room. "Harlots like you are a dime a dozen. I could find another easier to use than you."

Hermione felt fear like a blanket envelop her, and she stared into the hard, unforgiving face of the man she'd known years ago. Severus was gone, and the bitter, hateful man Harry had hated held her now by the throat. He pulled her into the bedroom and tore her gown from her. He hit her again, and she screamed and begged him to stop. He grabbed her and bent her over against the bed and took her from behind. His hands beat against her body as he, still fully clothed, used her quickly and fiercely.

Hermione lay with her face against the bedspread, feeling him pushing and pushing against her. She cried and she begged, but she couldn't feel anything except her body being pushed again and again. His hands were firm against her hips, pulling her. She was grateful she didn't have to see this, but what of Severus? What would this do to him? He struggled to make himself climax. Hermione must have realized what he needed because she clamped her muscles around him and pushed back against him. Finally he climaxed and released her. Dropping her to the floor, he kicked her and left.

Severus, horrified with what he'd had to do, could not stand to look at her, could not handle what he felt. He hated her at that moment for having forced him into that situation, and he loved her far more than he knew was right and healthy. His mind was spinning, and he had to get away. He ran to the back yard and Apparated away deep into a dark cave he had discovered years ago. He screamed and railed at Voldemort. He pounded his hands on the dirt and rocks until the spell wore off and his hands were raw, bleeding flesh.

He knew he didn't have the time for this self-indulgence. He had to get back and brew the potion they had agreed on only last night. He had completed the device. But he found he couldn't get up. His strength was gone, so he called for Fancy. It came out at a whisper because his voice was gone from screaming.

There was a pop. "Sir, Fancy is here." Her leathery, little hands touched his face gently.

"Hermione?" he asked.

"She is okay, sir. I left her in the bath. She's so afraid for you."

"For me? Please... take me home," he said.

He found himself just inside the bedroom door. Hermione was coming from the bathroom dressed in a dark robe with a towel on her head. Her face was puffy and red from crying. She came toward him with her hands out and her arms opening wide.

His heart skipped a beat to see the love in her eyes, but he felt dirty and said, "Don't touch me." his voice came out horse and low.

"Severus, please let me hold you."

"No, not like this," he said. "Not like this. I am soiled, damaged." He turned toward the fireplace, stripped his clothes off and burned them, and then he walked past her into the bathroom and shut the door.

Hermione stared after him, horrified. Then his words from the first night came back to her: "I am not a rapist of children." She had made him a rapist. Would he ever forgive her?

She crawled into the bed and waited, tears running down her face.

Thank you, Lisa, for the beta work you do for me. I depend on you so much.