Five

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR. I do not profit from writing this story.

Author's Notes: This story isn't labeled a darkfic with a dubcon warning for nothing. There are no gooey professions of love ahead.

-Melusin has been a godsend, and we should all bow at the altar of her abilities.

Hermione's nerves were on fire. That had been the moment when she noticed the heavy breathing issuing from a chair in the corner of the room.

Before Hermione could comprehend the horrifying statement, the figure lunged at her.

*** *** ***

To Snape's absolute bafflement...and disappointment...Hermione hadn't screamed.

He crossed her immaculate bedroom within seconds, but the only words that came out of her mouth were a weak, "It's you..."

She was in shock. That had been the only explanation he could come up with for her behavior.

Snape threw himself over the foot of the bed. Snatching her wand from the mattress, he hurled it over his shoulder, unconcerned with where it landed so long as it wasn't within arm's reach.

Hermione hadn't lunged for it in reaction... Which left him sorely dissatisfied.

By the time Snape was upon her, pressing her down into the mattress, her expression still hadn't changed. Her brown eyes stared up at him, widened with disbelief and something else he couldn't quiet comprehend.

One hand slowly closed around her throat as another braced his weight against the bed.

And yet, Hermione hadn't attempted to scream. She wasn't resisting in the least, and it was unsettling for him.

Snape's vision had at last adjusted to the darkness. He was finally able to understand her expression. Those wide eyes stared up at him, hungrily drinking in his features as her logic fought against the revelation before her.

"It is you..." Her voice was near hysterical, eyes on the verge of tears.

Snape jerked his face closer. At the last second, feeling her alarmed exhale brush against the skin of his face, he sharply turned his mouth towards her ear. "No thanks to you," were his only words.

Hermione cringed in his arms. Then she did something that was beyond all of his comprehension.

Her arms came around him... and she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. Her moist hair burned his neck with the shock of its coldness.

"I had always thought it was the lab..." Hermione stole another breath, inhaling raggedly. "It wasn't the Potions classroom, was it? It was you..."

Snape concluded that the sight of him had driven the woman mad. Little did he know that it had, but not in the way he assumed.

Only his old teaching robes separated them. Hermione had lost her towel when she had found the faded black garment on her bed...which Snape had attentively observed with growing pleasure. Severus had had an erection from the moment Hermione came out of the shower. Lying on top of her, he reveled in pressing it against her inner thigh.

He might have enjoyed the sight of her bare skin, but he meant his words. She hadn't shown enough fear to satisfy him.

"Wake up, little girl," Snape cooed disturbingly. He knew the supple skin and rounded flesh underneath his body were anything but little...or girlish. But Snape also recognized some recesses of her mind nonetheless viewed him as the authoritative teacher from her schooldays.

Snape's words, tone of voice, and especially his actions brought Hermione back to the present. Hand tightening around her neck, Snape callously pressed himself against her.

Hermione's expression had finally started to clear. She was beginning to comprehend the danger of her situation.

The delicate hands on his back sharply slid around to his chest.

She pushed against him. "No..."

"I take it you don't feel so sorry, anymore?" Snape purred nastily against her neck. Fingering a sleeve of his old robes, his nose brushed against her collar bone. "I knew you would enjoy seeing these again, but I must admit... I never thought you would enjoy it that much."

Hermione's eyeline had been continuously glued to his every move. His dark pupils bore into hers, willing her to look away while he edged his hand between her knees.

Hermione muttered to herself.

"What was that?" Snape asked in mock disquiet.

"I said, I know you won't hurt me." She tried to relax her struggle against him to stress the point.

"You don't know anything!" In his anger, Snape's hand slid up her thigh forcefully. Hermione jerked her hips away before he reached her heat, pushing at his chest again in earnest. "Ah, I see I can scare you."

"I'm sorry..."

His lips pulled over clenched teeth at her words. Snape let go of her neck, driving both hands between their bodies. His old robes still covered the majority of her nakedness, but nothing was left to the imagination under his palms. At the sound of her frightened whimpering, Snape pushed her thighs apart, forcing her to feel his hardness straining through his robes.

His mind was in a frenzy, but all the same he enjoyed taking his time.

She shivered under him, tears welling in her eyes as the heaviness of his body weight intensified. Turning her face away, Hermione's mouth fell open. "... I don't understand... This isn't fair..."

Stupid girl, Snape thought. "Your intelligence should have told you by now that life isn't fair," he hissed.

He ignored her resisting hands yanking at his hair. A wounded voice breathed, "You don't understand... how relieved I am that you're alive, Severus."

Snape paused, his face startling at the sound of his first name coming out of her mouth. He growled, wrenching his hand out from under the robes to grab her neck once more. "Don't you dare address me so familiarly. You, of all people, have no right to."

Hermione dared to raise her hands to clutch at his wrist. "I know..." she hiccoughed.

"My life, or what is left of it, exists as it is... and with absolutely no help from you."

Snape had stopped touching her, and his hardness was much less prominent. Nonetheless, Hermione's body resumed her stimulating shivering underneath him.

"Trust me..." she breathed. Her eyes relaxed, gazing almost drunkenly at him. "I'll never forget what I've done."

To Snape's horror, she placed her hands on his back again.

*** *** ***

"NO!" Hermione screamed. She wasn't mirroring anything being said in her dreams. Seconds before Hermione sat up in bed, she suddenly realized that everything that had happened last night had ended hours ago.

Her scream was one of disappointment, disgust... and protest. Protest that Snape wasn't here anymore... disgust at herself for feeling such disappointment at the thought. And doubt that it all could have been a dream.

It was a dream, the logical part of her mind insisted. Snape is dead; you know that. There is no proof that he survived.

But Hermione also knew there was no proof that Snape was dead. She had seen that first hand.

Why?

Why was he doing this to her? Okay, Hermione was enlightened as to why Snape was targeting her specifically. But why had he been going about it the way he had?

That is, if it's even him doing these things. It could have been a dream, her logical self corrected.

But there was no denying this. Not anymore. Not after everything she had seen and heard, regardless of what Harry and Ron might think...or not think...about these exact same occurrences.

Hermione shakily exhaled, remembering his presence... the exact feel of his presence. She should be angry, horrified even... no?

... No.

Hermione closed her eyes, sliding deeper under her covers. Her nose tickled, and her mind clicked something into place.

... These weren't her covers.

And she could still smell him. Very vividly.

Hermione took a few deep breaths before opening her eyes, finally taking in her current state. She was completely naked... except for an old, black cloak wrapped around her torso.

*** *** ***

The same instant, Hermione heard the wail of her wards being breached; she recognized the cursing of Ron on her doorstep.

"Why doesn't my key work!" he whined out in the corridor.

Hermione tightly wrapped her dressing gown around her body before running to open the door for him.

It had been two days since she had seen him. Hermione sadly admitted to herself that she hadn't felt a pain of loss until he was within arm's reach. She did love this man, and the idea of being held in his embrace appealed to her at the moment.

"Ron," she said with a smile, yanking open her front door.

Her smile faded as the newest edition of The Quibbler was thrust into her unsuspecting face.

Ron dropped his hand, revealing his stricken expression. "I don't even know what to say."

Hermione didn't either.

"Come in," she said softly, eyes downcast. Hermione blew a drawn out sigh, preparing herself for their inescapable row.

Wringing the paper in his hands, Ron stomped into the living room and plopped down on the sofa. At the sight of Hermione following calmly into the room, he jumped back up in agitation.

"Couldn't you have at least talked to me about this first?" he demanded. "I knew you had... some issues on your mind, but I never thought things had grown this serious!"

He threw the paper onto the coffee table with repugnance. Yanking his hands through his hair, Ron insisted, "Well?"

Hermione ached at the knowledge that he'd been hurt by her actions. Standing very still, her back straight, she evenly replied, "I'm sorry, but it needed to be done."

"Needed? It needed to be done?" Ron laughed miserably before saying, "For who? Him? Or your own sense of pride and conscience... no matter who you took down with you?"

Angry tears welled in her eyes at his accusation, but she couldn't deny it had merit. "That's not fair! You don't understand what I've been feeling... He is alive, Ron, and tormenting me!"

"You could have talked to me about it!"

"Would you have believed me?"

Ron clenched his eyes shut, finally sitting down in defeat. "No, I wouldn't. I still don't want to. But this..." He snatched the paper off the table, waving it desolately in the air. "It didn't need to be like this."

"Harry wouldn't listen to me, either. He wouldn't even try..."

"If you believe he's alive...and thank GOD you at least didn't tell that part of your story to the papers...what's the point of a memorial?"

"The same reason you are relieved that I haven't said anything about him returning is the same reason I didn't bother. No one would believe me, and it wasn't a battle I am prepared to fight... yet. But this..." Hermione pointed to the paper to stress her point "... the public might be more willing to believe and... empathize towards his plight, if they couldn't feel threatened by the idea of his being alive and forced to face his judgment."

Ron paused in thought after her speech. "You never called me," he said miserably. In a sense, not really changing the subject.

Hermione audibly cleared her throat. "If I had, it would only have been to explain the reasons behind my insensitive actions... and you wouldn't have believed me."

"We're not getting married." His words hadn't come out as a threat or even a statement made in anger. Ron seemed to have known this for some time, but the act of verbally stating it, as well as his anguished disbelief in the statement, made it an unavoidable reality.

Hermione knew she would always love him. That was what fueled her incessant tears. But she needed to stop the perpetual routine of denial that had invaded their lives. "No... we're not."

Ron nodded once, not looking at her, and rose from his seat. He walked straight towards the front door. Hermione closed her eyes but didn't try to stop him.

She prayed he wasn't harboring the longing that she would.

This was inevitable, she reasoned. It had only been a matter of time.

In that moment, the last thirteen years of Hermione's life rushed through her mind. The delightful and unpleasant times she had shared with Ron were worth remembering. It hurt to think she'd ever had such a friend to whom she might never speak again.

But Hermione was more than willing. She had never wanted to marry him and had always known they just weren't meant to be together... in that way. In time, she prayed Ron would forgive her and understand the reasons regarding why she had gone to The Quibbler with Severus Snape's untold story of life and 'death.'

More importantly, she prayed the elusive wizard in question would forgive her as well.

*** *** ***

Hermione awoke sometime in the middle of the night but kept her eyes closed. It wasn't her dreams that had disturbed her sleep but her senses.

Every inch of her skin was tingling with awareness of her surroundings, alarming her that a potential threat was very near. Her hand itched to reach for her wand under the pillow, but she needed to know the danger first.

"Don't bother faking sleep," a harsh voice rasped. "Your breathing has already changed."

Eyes widening, Hermione tried to jump out of bed, but her uninvited guest was too quick. Severus Snape was sprawled out on the mattress beside her... Who knew how long he had been watching her sleep?

A large, rough hand clamped tightly around her mouth, forcing her upper body back down against the pillows.

But Snape hadn't restrained her limbs. Hermione thrust her hand under the pillow, promptly snatching her wand and within a fraction of a second hexing the arm struggling to subdue her.

"Bloody hell!" Snape groaned at the pain of his wrist and in shock at her unexpected response. His expression startled at the sight of Hermione braced on all fours.

Snape attempted to sit up with a jerk, charging at her.

Hermione was already prepared. At the sight of his face coming nearer, Hermione closed her hands into a ten-fingered fist and threw her arm through the air with an enraged bellow. Snape's neck jerked back at the blow to his jaw, forcing him to sag against the bed.

The only sound in the room was her labored panting. Hermione crawled backwards off the mattress until her feet touched the floor. She had expected Snape to retaliate, but he was still lying motionless on his back.

Practically motionless. He wasn't unconscious or else he wouldn't be able to maintain the harsh clench of his eyes. It took Hermione a moment to realize that his entire body was jerking repeatedly; his muscles twitched in protest.

What's wrong with him?

"Professor?" Hermione called warily. She pointed her wand at his limbs, binding him in case this was a ruse.

"Professor Snape... Are you hurt?" Hermione dared to place her knee on the bed. Eyeing his chest, she gathered that he was breathing relatively normally.

Well, if he wasn't on the verge of death, then she needn't be very sympathetic. Jaw set and thin lipped, Hermione lifted her nightshirt above her knees to give her better mobility. Before she could doubt the action, Hermione crawled up the length of his legs and sat on top of his immobile body.

She grinned at his appalled expression. "So... this is what has become of the illustrious Snape?"

"GET. OFF." Snape appeared to exert great effort to speak, but his anger was apparent.

Hermione crossed her arms, looking down at him. Her curly mane fell over her shoulders, shrouding both sides of their faces. He had nowhere else to look other than directly at her. "Right... I'll be sure to do that. Because you were so quick to respond to my requests."

"I still don't..."

"Forgive me?" Hermione finished with a laugh. She couldn't hold onto the fake amusement as long as she wished. His words still managed to cut her deep. "I know, and I don't blame you for it. You're not the type of man who would enjoy pity, so I'm also not surprised you have expressed your anger... the way you have."

With great exertion, Snape managed to turn his head, obviously wanting to avoid her unguarded expression.

Not knowing how long her bind would last, Hermione quickly began to undo the buttons around his neck.

His eyes widened, mortified.

"Please," she said in apology, "I need to see."

Drawing away the cloth, Hermione was surprised she had succeeded in not revealing how shaken she felt. Raised scars littered down from the base of his throat and passed along his collarbone. Fingers trembling, Hermione continued to undo his robes, following a trail of scars that she soon realized had nothing to do with Nagini's bite.

Just the simple act of touching him was making Hermione feel heady. Her fingers lingered on his cold flesh, trailing every inch in memorization. Who knew when would be the next time she would see him, especially like this.

By the time Hermione reached his chest, exposing one nipple, the reality of what she was doing struck her.

"Will you stop staring at me!" Snape finally sneered in earnest. With his limbs still bound, the only evidence that his tremors had stopped was the return of the ferocity in his voice.

The volume of his baritone was jarring. Hermione jerked out of her trance and quickly remembered herself.

"Will you say goodbye before you leave?" she responded confidently. Conveniently forgetting that she had half-undressed this man, she dared to send him an accusing glare. "Or will you resort to Dark magic again to render me unconscious so you can slip out of my flat as uninvited as you came?"

"Goodbye?" Snape barked. "After everything you have seen me capable of, your main worry is that I won't say goodbye?"

"Severus... it doesn't need to be like this."

His eyes flashed. "Really? How exactly should it be?"

"I knew the whole time, you know," she breathed sadly. "I gave an interview to The Quibbler for your honor, and yet I knew. It was what you had planned all along. Any way possible you could seek your revenge... my guilt, Harry's popularity, and Ron's love for me. All of that will go to shit now... That is, if anyone still reads that rubbish."

He didn't say anything. Hermione yearned for him to say something, even yell. In her sorrow, Hermione failed to notice the bonds evaporate from his body.

Snape grabbed Hermione by the waist, flipping her onto her back. She squeaked in protest.

"How dare you..." Snape's face was red, his limbs shaking once more, but this time with fury. "After everything that you have... you dare to bind me..."

No more. She couldn't hear him abuse her past actions anymore. If she could only take them back, she gladly would. But he didn't believe her sincerity. He couldn't unless he knew her heart.

Her words would never have an effect on him.

Hermione succeeded in rendering Severus dumbfounded once more. Placing both hands on his back, she thrust her face up to his, pressing her mouth against his sneer.

Snape froze on top of her.

Before he comprehended what was happening, Hermione had dragged his bottom lip between her teeth while her thighs relaxed against his hips.

He yanked away.

"Why did you do it?"

Somehow, Hermione knew he wasn't questioning her kiss. This was the softest pitch she had ever heard his voice lowered to, so she was more than eager to answer his question. "You know that already... You knew I would contact the papers...no matter the consequences in store for myself."

"You're such a fool..."

Hermione's body was shivering. He hadn't attempted to lift himself off her, but his current weight wasn't violent, either. With the firmness pressing insistently between her legs, Hermione's abdomen throbbed at the realization that her nightshirt was in total disarray, revealing much of her body.

"I'd rather be only covered in your robes," Hermione whispered shakily to herself before realizing he'd probably heard. Reality crashed around her. She tensed, taking in the possible danger of her situation once again.

Snape quirked an eyebrow at all this, his pupils dilated with excitement. Relaxing his braced elbows on the mattress, he slowly lowered himself ever further against her.

By the time he had initiated a second contact between their lips, Severus' intensity had returned in earnest. He grabbed at the nightshirt, ripping the thin material vertically from the collar and exposing her breasts. Hermione released a cry at the action, but he didn't stop to inspect if it was from protest or excitement.

Snape didn't care.

Her knickers suffered a similar fate.

Snape's hands and tongue ravaged her body, lifting her by the bum for a better position. With two quick movements of his fingers, his trousers were unzipped, his throbbing cock eagerly positioned by his hand.

Frustrated with impatience, Severus couldn't suppress the temptation to release his length and extend his fingers against her warmth. Hermione thrust her hips against his touch.

Eyes snapping open, Snape groaned loud and deep once he realized Hermione's clutch at his lank hair was one of fervor. This wasn't what he wanted, but he'd take it. There was a niggling voice at the back of his mind that insisted this way was preferable.

"Please..."

"Please, what?" His hot breath brushed against her nipples.

"Just promise me one thing..." Hermione's sudden hesitation was seen in the tensing of her muscles, obviously wishing she hadn't just said anything to begin with.

"Tell me," Snape commanded, looming over her.

When Hermione failed to respond, Snape finally sank into her wetness, deep and slow.

She threw her head back, eyes closing languidly as her mouth feel open. Anything...

"Promise..." Hermione mewed unexpectedly when his movements reached a steady rhythm. "Promise you'll say goodbye before you leave." Her arms flailed above her until she located a solid corner of the headboard for her clenched fists.

Severus breathed heavily against her ear. His words issued out of his mouth stiffly, syllables exaggerated with each thrust against her. "Yes... I... pro..." It had been far too long for him. "I...I will..."

***End***

Author's Notes: This story is complete! It feels so good to finally say that about something I've written. My SSHG recipient, Pennswoods, has asked for a follow up, and one actually is in the making, but it's at the bottom of a long list of things I need to finish. Thanks for reading!

-Those who are familiar with my review replies know I enjoy blunt, raw honestly. Of course I like the squee reviews, but I also love critique. Even if you hated it, feel free to tell me why and I won't flag you to the admins.