Revelation

A/N: A little word of warning: This chapter will get rather juicy when you're probably least expecting it. So, before you read on, make sure you are sitting comfortably (perhaps get a cup of tea first), shoo out the kids, and if you're at work with your boss looking over your shoulder, better save it for later. :-)

He moved off the bed, opened the door, and looked down the corridor, but whoever had been eavesdropping had disappeared. With a deep breath, he tried to focus his mind. Finally, his trousers started to feel less tight. Turning back towards the bed where the young woman was lying sprawled out, his anger evaporated at the sight of her slender, helpless form. He even felt a twinge of guilt. Bending down over her, his hand hovered over her face. Feeling the warm puffs of air as she slowly inhaled and exhaled confirmed that his Stunning Spell had not hurt her beyond its intended effect. For a moment, he hesitated, now relieved and decidedly less bothered by guilt, before allowing his fingers to trail across her cheek, slowly, tenderly, marvelling at how incredibly soft her skin felt – so perfect, so youthful. She didn't stir, completely oblivious to his shy caress. Something else did stir, however, something deep inside him, something that had been buried for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like. But he had no right to feel this way. He had to pull himself together.

Suppressing emotions, especially the more positive ones, was something Snape was very good at. It therefore didn't take him long to clear his mind and focus on solving the problem at hand. First and foremost, whatever he did, it was imperative that he would not be implicated in any way when Potter and his friends got away. Keeping his cover was essential, as was not being culpable of failure in the Dark Lord's eyes. He had stunned the girl when his ill temper flared, but now realised it would have been necessary in any case. He could not appear to care too much about her. She had been barely conscious when he had picked her up, and it would not do for her to be in a better state after he was finished with her.

Another matter was what to tell the others regarding the sword. If he kept Bella worried about the safety of whatever the Dark Lord had entrusted her with, she might be less keen to Summon him, and that would buy some more time. On the other hand, what if that thing was one of the remaining Horcruxes? He couldn't risk the Dark Lord becoming suspicious, perhaps increasing the protection around it. It was best to dispel any concerns regarding the security of the Lestranges' vault.

Carefully, he picked up Hermione's limp body and carried her back downstairs. As he re-entered the drawing room, he noticed that Bella was absent while Draco had apparently come back inside. He was standing with his mother and father by the fireplace. They were talking in hushed voices, seemingly frightened. He gently laid the girl down on the carpet again before turning towards the Malfoys.

"The sword is a fake, a copy," he said.

"That's what the Granger girl claimed, too," Lucius replied. "But Bella wouldn't believe it." His voice was husky, no trace left of its former smooth, eloquent arrogance. His face was unshaven, and his once silky blond hair looked decidedly unkempt. Snape knew that it wasn't just the short stint in Azkaban that had brought about this change.

"She was speaking the truth," he replied, lacing his tone with a trace of indifference. "They were planning to break into the Lestranges' vault, but they had no chance of getting anywhere near it. Tell Bella that she need not worry."

But Lucius didn't look completely reassured. Admittedly, anyone telling the Malfoys not to worry these days was likely to be doubted.

"There is another way to find out," the blond wizard suggested. "Draco, fetch the goblin. He can tell us whether the sword is real or not."

Draco looked at his father uncertainly. But as he had long ago stopped questioning anyone in his family, he silently obeyed.

Snape, however, had no time for such a pointless endeavour. He had to come up with a plan, and he had to do so quickly. Perhaps he could place Pettigrew under the Imperius curse, ordering him to give the prisoners his wand and let them out of the dungeons. The thought of what the Dark Lord might do to punish Pettigrew brought a satisfied smile to his face. How he despised that rat. But then there remained the question of how they would get out of the Manor. There were Anti-Apparition spells in place, although perhaps they could be tampered with. If Potter still had his invisibility cloak, they might be able to sneak out of the house unnoticed. It was risky. He had to think about this carefully, as he would certainly not get a second chance.

He threw Pettigrew and the werewolf his most intimidating glance.

"Remember, the girl is mine. Anyone found to have touched her will face the Dark Lord's wrath – I will make sure of that," he warned them, unashamedly playing his authority to his advantage, before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. He had to try and see if it was possible to break the Anti-Apparition spells.

Out in the hallway he was suddenly stopped in his tracks by the sound of footsteps. As he turned around, he saw Bellatrix come down the stairs, giggling lewdly. No doubt she had been the one to eavesdrop.

"Who would have thought that you could get that sort of response from a woman, Severus." She giggled. "Severus, the bookworm... hahaha... What a surprise..." She cocked her head, giving him a salacious look, running her tongue along her lips.

Once she reached the bottom, she leaned back against the banister in a lascivious pose, running her hand down her ample cleavage, smiling at him in a way she probably thought was seductive.

"If you stay tonight, I'll give you a little surprise, too," she purred.

She moved up to him, pointing her index finger at his chest, and slowly ran her long, crimson nail along the line of his buttons. He maintained a stony expression while she looked at him expectantly.

"You're not my type, Bella," he said, his voice as cold as a bucket of ice water, before pushing her away and continuing on his way.

"Because you only like Mudbloods!" she shouted after him, infuriated.

Something whizzed past within a hand's width of his neck, so close, he could hear it soar through the air. A split second later, he saw her silver dagger drive itself into the polished wood panelling in front of him with a resounding clunk.

He stopped and slowly turned around, staring her down without the slightest sign of perturbation on his face.

"Are you not capable of duelling with a wand?" he asked, derisively raising one eyebrow.

"Aw... Did I scare you?" she quipped, chuckling to herself.

"No. You just made me doubt your sanity," he replied with calm contempt.

"I hate your guts, Severus Snape! There is nothing insane about that!" she spat with an expression of spite on her face.

She hurled herself towards him, a vicious look in her eyes, raising her fists as if to hit him. Something about her reminded him of a petulant child. He caught her wrists, holding on to them with an iron grip, spinning her around, pushing her against the wall, her hands pinned up beside her head. He brought his face close to hers, looking into her eyes with a merciless scowl, fully aware of the intimidating effect his unblinking gaze could have.

"Really? But then a moment ago you wanted me to fuck you," he said silkily. "Now, to me, that is insane."

He let go of her with an expression of disgust, as if he had just touched something filthy. Again he turned and walked away, and this time, she did not try to attack him. He could hear her shout insults after him, but duly ignored her provocations.

"Severus Snape only does little Mudbloods! He can't get it up with a real witch! Loser! Looooser! Loo-hooo-ser!"

When Hermione opened her eyes she gazed up into Ron's face. His blue eyes looked down at her with concern and relief. Next to him was Fleur, holding a steaming mug of something that smelled rather enticing. Looking around the small, cosy lounge with a welcoming fire burning in the hearth, she wondered where she was and how she had got here. And where was Snape? She wanted to ask Ron about him, but was not sure whether that was such a wise thing to do.

"Where are we?" she managed to whisper hoarsely.

The right side of her body was aching, though she had no idea that this was due to the mighty chandelier at Malfoy Manor crashing down on her. Still, it was nowhere near as bad as the effects of the torture had been.

"Shell Cottage. We're all safe, 'Mione," Ron replied, gently caressing her hand.

"How...?" she mouthed.

"It eez all very lucky. It appears zat Dobby came to your rescue. 'Ere drink zis," Fleur told her softly, handing her the mug. Hermione accepted it gratefully, taking a small sip. The hot liquid felt wonderfully energising as it ran down her throat.

"Dobby?" She threw Ron a questioning glance.

"Yeah, Dobby Apparated the other prisoners out of the cellar, and Harry and I wrestled down Pettigrew and took his wand. And then there was a massive fight. And then I grabbed you and Disapparated..."

"Ronald! Let 'er rest first!" Fleur interrupted reproachfully. "Go outside and 'elp 'Arry. I will take care of 'er."

Hermione found it slightly odd that Ron should have been able to Disapparate with her so easily. Most wizarding homes were protected by Anti-Apparition spells, and a place like Malfoy Manor certainly would be no exception. She wondered if Snape had had anything to do with it. A part of her felt disappointed, having hoped that he would somehow personally whisk them away to safety, but of course she realised that such a feat would hardly have been possible for him. He had to continue playing his role.

It was a good thing that Fleur made her drink, eat, and lie down a little, because it was not until after the sun had already risen that she would get any rest. First, they had to bury Dobby, who sadly had not survived their flight from Malfoy Manor. The grief about the loss of the little elf overshadowed the happiness they should have felt for having escaped from almost certain death, but they had to move on. Harry seemed to feel the same, as he wanted to speak to the goblin, Griphook, and Mr Ollivander straight away, already thinking about the next step ahead. Through their capture, they had also been reunited with their friends Luna and Dean, and there was no going to bed before they had heard everyone's story. Only then, after a hot bath, she could finally sleep, in a proper bed with clean sheets and fluffy duvets. The next days were spent mostly at leisure, relaxing on the beach around the cottage and eating Fleur's delicious food. After months of starvation, deprivations, and constant vigilance, she was in heaven.

And so, in the end, Hermione never told her friends about her encounter with Snape. Part of the reason was that she did not want to worry them with the fact that Snape now knew about their mission, nor did she want to justify herself for giving that information away. While she was absolutely confident that their secret was safe with him, she knew that there was nothing she could say to convince Harry.

The other reason was that she was too embarrassed about how it had ended. It had been the first time she had ever been confronted with this type of raw male sexuality, completely devoid of romance or tenderness. She had felt his erection, big, hard, and totally foreign. It had frightened her, but at the same time, part of her had felt intrigued that she was able to cause such a reaction in a man, and not just any man, but the formidable Potions master she had looked up to throughout her student years. It had been exciting somehow, and not completely unwelcome. And not only that, it seemed to have sparked some entirely inappropriate feelings in her. During her waking hours, she successfully kept them at bay, focusing on plotting their break into Gringotts with Harry and Ron, but at night, her dreams were frequently haunted by her former professor.

Hermione sneaked out of the room that she shared with Harry and Ron. The house was quiet; everybody was sleeping. She descended the stairs down to the lounge, careful not to wake anybody. She was wearing the short satin pyjamas that Fleur had lent her, a set of ivory French knickers with a camisole. All of Fleur's nightwear was this elegant and feminine, so very different from her own cotton pyjamas with prints of various Muggle cartoon characters. At first, Hermione had felt a little uncomfortable wearing this sort of thing, but she had grown to like the soft, sexy feel of the silky material against her skin. It made her feel very grown-up.

She opened her eyes again, looking up into the bottomless black depth of his pupils, feeling them penetrate her mind, yielding to his power, surrendering all the way.

Unfortunately, this was when Hermione always woke up with her heart racing and her knickers drenched. It was as if, for lack of any real-world experience, her imagination failed her at this point, leaving her sorely disappointed. Each time her desire and curiosity were left unsatisfied. She would relieve her frustration by masturbating under the covers, quietly, so as to not wake Ron and Harry.

At the same time, she felt embarrassed that it was Snape whom she had these dreams about. It was only thanks to him, of course, that her virginity had not been taken forcibly by a Death Eater the day they had been captured. She was extremely grateful to him for having protected her from such a horrible fate. And the knowledge that he was secretly fighting on their side, that Dumbledore's death must have somehow been part of the plan, did much to restore her admiration for him. She often found herself thinking about him, wondering how he was coping. She knew what it was like to fight alone, to not be able to tell anyone about their mission, to not have anyone to turn to for help or advice. But how much worse must it be to be caught on the wrong side? She felt a great secret solidarity with him. But as far as the schoolgirl crush she had once had on him went, she told herself that she really was over him. She was in love with Ron now. A part of her seemed to disagree, however, and longed to see the dark Slytherin again. Little did she know how soon, and under what terrible circumstances, she would.

A/N: Please review! I'm absolutely dying to know what you thought of this chapter.