Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I'm snatching some of JKR's characters for some fun...no Galleons for me though. Damn.

Thanks go to my beta, Charmed_Nay!

"Severus, are you all right?" Hermione asked, stepping towards him. She'd only just woke a few minutes earlier, but the sun had gone down already, proving that she'd slept most of the day away. How? Had he given her a draught for sleeping? What had exhausted her so much?

"Fine," was his clipped reply.

"You're obviously not fine." There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked a little shaken and obviously angry.

"When one returns from a visit with the Dark Lord, it's not unusual to feel unwell."

"What happened?" she asked, stepping to the side and taking a seat on their bed. "Earlier, I just felt so... exhausted suddenly."

The glare he flashed her made her pause. "I had to give a report on the state of things here." He moved away from her to rummage through the wardrobe.

"Did he think you had anything to do with the Malfoys?"

"Mmm."

"But how could you have known? You were sleeping!"

He spun around with narrowed eyes, opened his mouth, and then promptly closed it, turning away from her to continue his search.

"I told you already! I don't know what happened exactly. I was going to the lav, and when I heard them, I went to see what was going on, and then they disappeared." She frowned and asked, "How is it that Portkeys can work here anyway? I thought you'd set wards to..."

"Bellatrix lifted them and didn't place them back." He faced her again. "For the others to come and go."

Hermione saw that he had a tube of some salve in his hand before she noticed that he was motioning for her to come forward. Quickly, she went to him, eager to help him so that his bad mood would pass. She knew they'd probably never be friends, but if they had to spend time together, she'd prefer to get along with him. She felt a little uneasy, but she wasn't sure why. His tone and gaze seemed to indicate that he was angry with her. She supposed he was just taking out his misfortune on her.

"I will need you to apply this."

Her eyes widened when he lifted his robes, turned his back to her, and lowered his underpants, revealing a nasty burn with a few boils lining it. It spread from his lower back down to the right cheek of his arse.

"What did he do to you?" she asked, quickly squeezing the tube and applying it to his flesh lightly, starting at the top and working her way down.

"Bellatrix thought it prudent to hex me once my back was turned."

"Oh." So, it hadn't been the Dark Lord then. "And did you retaliate?"

"No."

That surprised Hermione, but she supposed he wouldn't want to displease Voldemort. As if he knew her thoughts, he spoke.

"She is likely worse off than I am. I was told to leave while our Master deals with her directly for her actions."

"Did she have something to do with their departure?"

There was no answer for her, only the abrupt intake of air as her finger grazed one of the larger boils.

"Sorry!"

"Just pay attention to what you're doing. Rub it in completely."

The want to press his wound extra firmly on purpose rose up within her; however, she refrained from doing so, pitying him. Truth be told, he was hurting, and while it wasn't pleasant, that was a valid reason to be irate. After the last of the salve was absorbed, she leaned closer and lightly blew against it, watching gooseflesh rise on his skin...noticing how firm his arse was. Relishing the fact that he was reacting to her in such away...especially after his many proclamations of indifference...she placed a hand on his waist to steady herself as she did it a second time. This time she elicited a small groan of pleasure from him. In surprise, she backed away immediately, turning away from him, cheeks aflame with shame.

What had possessed her to do that? Had she gone mad? Her hands had just been on his naked flesh, her breath had just blown across the pale skin of his smooth arse, and she'd enjoyed seeing his reaction, hearing his moan. Swallowing thickly, she closed her eyes tightly and willed the image away. How could she have done that? She heard the rustle of fabric and knew he was righting his clothes.

"Remain here. I will bring your food in to you after I've secured the premises." He paused next to her for a moment. "Tonight will be the last night for the Carrows to be here...and most of the others."

Hermione simply nodded and held her breath until he was safely out of the room and unable to see her burning cheeks. The first thought to surface was of Ron and Harry. They would be disgusted with her. This thought, more than any other, had her eyes watering.

"It's mental!" she said quietly, bringing her hands up to cover her face while she tried to collect herself. It's not an attraction. I was just seeking to soothe him. That's all. I'll act as if nothing happened.

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Arthur Weasley paced nervously through his garden and was so deep in thought, he failed to see the two gnomes mimicking his every move. He was waiting on Ron and Harry's arrival and hoping that Molly wouldn't see either of them until he'd had time to speak with them first.

When the Portkey came into view just feet away, followed by the both of them landing awkwardly next to it, he was able to breathe easier. "You're here! Quickly! This way!"

"What's the emergency?" Harry asked, looking towards the house.

"Is Mum all right?" Ron asked worriedly.

"We're all fine, but... Oh, come along!"

He beckoned at them to follow him and began a trek over to the chicken coop, not seeing the pair gaze at each other incredulously but hearing Ron's comment.

"Hope he doesn't think we've time to help him clean the coop out!"

"You'll be quite interested as to what I've got in here, son. You, too, Harry."

"I'll bet."

Arthur stopped, looked around nervously, and flicked his wand a few times before opening the door. "In you get," he said, waving his hand towards the door. After they entered, he stepped in behind them and warded the door again.

If the situation wouldn't be serious, he'd have laughed outright at the expressions on their faces as they gazed at the Malfoy family, who were dirty and disheveled, but well hidden from the world in a dingy chicken coop.

"What's going on, Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked, pulling his wand.

"They need help, son," he said, putting his hand in front of Harry to make certain he didn't hex them. "On the run, see."

"How'd they find the Burrow? It's got protection around it," Ron said suspiciously.

"Granger," Draco said. "She made a Portkey for us and sent us here."

"Hermione, what?"

"She all right?"

"Boys," Mr. Weasley began, "I've already discussed it with them, and there's much to learn from them, but first, we must figure out what to do with them. I haven't told... That is to say..."

"Mum has no idea."

"No," he admitted.

"Well, they can't go to headquarters," Harry said immediately. "I won't risk it."

"Could be a trick," Ron agreed.

"Trust me, we don't want to be found," Draco said.

Arthur felt a little sorry for the boy. He almost seemed on the verge of tears, and he'd done most of the talking so far. Lucius just seemed shocked and uncertain while Narcissa looked worried.

"I wouldn't ask it of you, Harry, but if Molly found out..."

"Found out what?" came a voice from behind.

"Molly!"

"Ron, Harry!" she said excitedly, rushing to hug them, not noticing their guests. "I've just finished making some soup. Come in and eat! What are you lot doing out here in..." Her voice trailed off. "Arthur, why are there three filthy Malfoys in our chicken coop?"

"Filthy! How dare you," Lucius said indignantly. "I can trace my..."

"No, you idiot... I mean to say that you're filthy!" She pointed to their robes, normally pristine, lined with mud and feathers.

"Er, see, I was off to see Xenophilius this morning, and I saw them Portkey right near me! I took their wands right away, of course, and questioned them...like a good Ministry worker should, mind. After hearing their story, I thought it best to talk to Harry and Ron."

"And what of me? This is my home!" she said angrily, hands on hips.

"I didn't want to upset you," he said quickly.

"Molly," said Narcissa. "We need help."

Molly's red face paled slightly as she measured up the woman across from her. When her eyes became softer, Arthur knew that all would be well. His wife had too big a heart not to help those in need.

"All right. Come in and have a spot of lunch, the lot of you." She turned to her husband with a small warning. "We'll talk later."

As they all followed his wife into their home, Arthur noticed the boys had lagged behind and were whispering to each other, eyeing the Malfoys as they did so. He very much wanted to ask them questions, but he knew from experience that they were quite evasive these days. Deciding to watch their guests for any signs of treachery, his eyes moved ahead once again, and he knew a moment of hostility as the three looked around his home disdainfully before taking a seat at his table. The instant they sat down a look of such relief came over them that he hadn't the heart to rebuke them.

It didn't take long to have the dishes set out and filled with soup and bread... or for the boys to start their questioning.

"So," Harry began, "how is Hermione? Is she hurt? Being mistreated?"

"She's fine," said Narcissa after wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Severus is seeing to it that she remains protected."

As if he didn't trust her words, Harry looked to Draco. "Malfoy?"

"It's as my mother said."

"How'd you get out of Azkaban?" Harry demanded of Lucius.

"Death Eaters came to break us out. It was easy enough with the Dementors helping."

This time Arthur spoke. "But there must have been a leak...someone working on the inside that helped. Who?"

"Are you going to turn me in?" asked the man, arching a pale eyebrow.

"There's no deals here, Malfoy!" Ron said heatedly, interrupting his father's response.

"Indeed? I rather thought we had information that you might want... in exchange for protection and freedom."

"Granger said we'd find help!" Draco added, looking between Harry and Ron nervously. "Helped me get my family out of there!"

"Why didn't she come with you?"

"Oh, she... the Portkey..."

His mother finished for him, saying, "The Portkey activated sooner than she thought. She wasn't touching."

"Probably left her behind!" Ron said angrily, looking as though he wanted to lunge at them.

"Of course not!" Narcissa said, not meeting his eyes fully and looking to Draco instead.

"We had a deal," Draco added. "She made the Portkey with my wand and wouldn't say when it would activate to make sure she'd come with us. We... I meant for her to come. I did."

"Why do you look nervous, Draco?" Harry asked, scrutinizing his nemesis. "And why should we help you after all you've done to us?" This last part was said to the elder Malfoy.

"You were there, that night!" Draco said, cutting in. "Granger said you know that I wouldn't have... couldn't... Said you'd told everyone."

Harry and Ron exchanged looks.

Lucius leaned forward. "Running isn't the smartest thing to do, but my family has found a way for us to leave, and I'll do what I can to protect them now that I am able. However, I do need help." He sat back and looked to Molly. "What do you think of all this?"

She gazed at them and then to the others. "I can't see as how we can turn them out. Not when they need help." Her eyes narrowed, and her voice took on a steely edge. "Though I'm not stupid enough to think you'd do the same if the tables were turned, see. You're lucky it's in our nature to be kind."

"You don't mean for them to stay here," Arthur said, aghast.

"I certainly do. Where else have they to go? We can lodge them in that secret testing room the twins made!" she replied. "Why, I never knew it was there until they told me about it! If anyone comes looking about, they won't even know the Malfoys are here."

Arthur nodded. "Well?"

"We've no choice," said Lucius as he gazed around the room. When his eyes met Arthur's, he firmly said, "I'll do what I must for Cissy and Draco."

"That's settled then," said Arthur.

"Who all is with you?" Harry asked.

Arthur listened attentively while sipping his soup as all three Malfoys began talking and giving information, apparently grateful for the help and wanting to cooperate to ensure none of them saw Azkaban...or worse. When the conversation moved back to how Hermione was faring, things changed.

"What do you mean she is sharing a room with Snape?" Ron asked, shock evident on his face.

"You mean she sleeps near him for protection?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No," Narcissa said almost sadly. "She shares his bed."

Ron stood and knocked his chair back as he did so. "But... no ... she wouldn't."

"She's no choice," Draco said. "It's where the professor orders her to stay."

Narcissa nodded. "Yes, she's his... property."

"Property!" both boys and Molly yelled.

Lucius cleared his throat. "I haven't talked to her at all since I've returned, but she looks... content and cared for...if that helps anything."

"The Dark Lord has gifted her to Severus."

Ron fled out the back door without another word. There was a loud bang as something hit the outside of the house. Harry seemed rooted to the spot, mouth agape. "She puts up with this?" he asked incredulously.

"She wants to live, doesn't she?" Draco said sarcastically.

Harry frowned and sat back, quietly thinking things over before nodding. "We'll find a way to get her out of there soon. Now, tell me everything you know about where you were staying."

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Nearly a week had passed since the Malfoys had escaped, and there was still no sign of them. A good thing that came from all the chaos was that Bellatrix and her husband were ordered to remain near the Dark Lord for a while...as a penance, Hermione supposed. And once they'd gone, Wormtail was sent for soon after. It seemed that they needed someone to wait on them and felt he'd be perfect for the job.

Hermione was glad to see them gone. However, that still left Rabastan with them, and without the Malfoys or the others there, she felt less secure, not that they'd have helped her out, but she did feel that there was more safety in numbers.

Snape, thankfully, had never mentioned what had happened when she'd been healing his wound, and so she was able to put it out of her mind, mostly, and chalk it up to a momentary lapse of judgment. What did bother her, though, was that he'd seemed so cold towards her since then. There were no unnecessary chats between them, and she caught him glaring at her occasionally without provocation.

Most nights she went to bed long before he did, as he was keen to stay up and play chess with Rabastan or work on his potions. Only a few times did he actually leave her alone, though warded into their room, but she hated his disappearances all the same, preferring to have an indifferent Snape there than none at all...especially with Rabastan about. Instead of asking why he was treating her that way...afraid to hear his answer...she simply minded her own business, chalking it up to the fact that he'd disliked what she'd done to him.

But he didn't and you know it, a pesky inner voice whispered.

And so it was that she found herself reading in one of his books near the fire when things suddenly changed completely. Each time she looked up, Rabastan would leer at her on the sly and fondle his beloved dagger, sharpening it, sometimes cradling it like one would a child.

Snape saw his antics while turning the page of his book and said, "If you love that thing so much, why don't you marry it?"

Rabastan continued to sharpen his dagger, smirking the entire time. "I think that if you aren't going to use her," he looked up pointedly at Hermione, who paled slightly, "you should allow me to have some fun."

Snape continued to look through his book, but his icy words belied his pretense of indifference. "If you dare to touch what is mine, you will feel the blade of your own knife parting your flesh whilst I watch you die." He flipped the page nonchalantly, brow furrowing as he read.

"Damn, she must be good," the other man said, looking over to Hermione again and licking his lips. A tanned hand slid down to grope his crotch. He licked his lips suggestively and continued to fondle himself. "Does she still fight you, Snape, like she did at first, or does she give it to you whenever you ask? I never hear you anymore."

"That's not really your concern, now is it?" Snape finally said.

The color began returning to Hermione's face. Snape wouldn't let that evil bastard touch her...not if she behaved as promised. She ignored his leering gaze, lewd gestures, and turned the page of her own book, though she continued listening intently.

"Well, you never take her while I'm about anymore. Can't be! I never hear her scream or argue. What have you to hide by putting up a Silencing Charm? I wouldn't mind hearing or watching, you know." He smirked. "Or sharing."

"Yes, but unfortunately for you, I do mind having an audience," Snape said quietly, finally lifting his eyes to stare coldly at his friend. "It would bode well for you to remain silent."

"I'll just mention to the Dark Lord that you don't seem to be bedding her any longer. There's nothing else she's good for...aside for keeping the place as clean as a house-elf would." He slipped his long, curvy knife into his sheath. "Sort of suspicious, that."

"Why, Rabastan, whatever do you mean?" Snape asked, slowly putting his book aside and leaning forward. "Are you insinuating something? That perhaps I am not taking my due from her?" He nodded in Hermione's direction, but his glinting eyes never left Rabastan's.

"No," the other man blurted. "Not at all. Just thinking you might have some... problems that you don't want any of us to know about...the private shagging, the not sharing." He stood and moved over by the fireplace, putting extra room between them as Snape slowly rose from his chair. "But, ah, that doesn't make sense. I heard the way you made Narcissa moan like a whore."

"Is that right?" Snape asked coolly. "I don't recall Narcissa ever sounding like someone's whore while she was here."

Hermione's eyes widened. What did he mean by wording it that way? Did they have sex elsewhere? It was possibly he was offended that his friend would refer to Narcissa that way. Or was he lying to Rabastan? She took in Rabastan's disbelieving expression.

"Yeah, right, and, uh, I think Bellatrix was telling Rodolphus that her sister felt used. So... you had no problems fucking Narcissa, even if the Dark Lord ordered it." He nodded to Hermione. "Maybe it's just because she's a filthy Mudblood that you can't get it up."

A quick flick of Snape's wand saw Rabastan flipped upside down and levitating in midair. A second flick had him moaning and grabbing at his crotch.

Hermione flinched with the piercing scream that followed. Her face, already red with indignation, heated angrily as his words filtered through. He thought that Snape didn't want her because she was a Muggle-born witch! She itched to yell out and tell him that Snape simply had more honor...er, mostly...but her lips wouldn't move. She knew better. To say that would be to seal her future.

"Cut it out, Snape! I was just fucking with you! Just trying for a piece!" Rabastan yelled, pain etching his words.

"We'll see who's not taking their due!" Pride wounded, Snape released Rabastan, letting him drop to the floor in a heap. He spun around on his heel and headed for Hermione. She looked up and saw that his eyes were alive with menace. She yelped as he roughly pulled her up, causing her to drop her book, and half dragged her to the corner where they shared the makeshift bedroom. After pushing her towards the bed, he gruffly said, "Take your clothes off."

"W-what?" she stammered, eyes wide. "But..."

"Are you deaf? Undress." His tone left no hope for changing his mind. He turned around and pulled the curtains closed, knowing that Rabastan would still be able to discern a little of what was going on through the sheer material. Snape didn't put up a Silencing Charm, obviously needing the man to hear them in order to keep him believing that Hermione was as satisfying to him as Narcissa had been.

When he turned back to Hermione and saw that she'd pulled her robes off completely, but her worn, old dress was only partially unbuttoned, he growled in annoyance. Although she was near tears, he swooped down on her quickly, roughly pulled the dress open, sending buttons flying to the floor, and he then pulled it off of her entirely, leaving her clad in her bra and knickers. As he began unfastening his robes, her lips began to tremble.

He brought a long, pale finger up to his lips and gave her a knowing look and a nod of his head in Rabastan's direction in attempt to reassure her. The relief on her face was immediate, though she swallowed thickly and gazed at the nearly transparent curtain, afraid of what Rabastan might see. She bit her lip and kicked her shoes away, opting to keep her socks on. She quickly got under the duvet, feeling uneasy, not sure what to expect. Once his robes were gone and his boots had been kicked away to join hers, he began unfastening his trousers, which he rarely wore, deftly removing them and leaving his underpants intact. In one swift movement, his shirt was over his head, and he was getting beneath the duvet with her.

They both peered in the direction of the fireplace where Rabastan could be heard, apparently stoking the fire. The shadowy forms of the furniture could just be made out. Snape suddenly rolled over, wedging his body between her unsuspecting thighs.

She gasped and held her breath as his mouth descended slowly. Oh, my God. This cannot be happening. He's going to kiss me. Revulsion warred with excitement, causing her to close her eyes.

Instead of finding her mouth, his lips went to her ear where he whispered softly, "If you want to remain under my care, you must go along with this." He pulled back to look at her.

"All right," she whispered, wanting to scream in anguish. She didn't want to be forced to have sex with him just to keep herself alive, but if she didn't do it, he would not be the only one to force himself on her. Rabastan would not stop until he would figure out a way to have her.

"Good," he murmured in a low voice, easing down to press his bare chest against her nearly naked one, crushing her breasts as he did so. His mouth made its way to her ear again. "We'll have to... sound as if something is going on." He paused. "And enact things just a bit."

"Do you mean...?" Relief flooded her body. He didn't mean to have sex with her. He only wanted to pretend in order to trick Rabastan.

"Indeed." He paused before adding, "It would not bode well for you to have the Dark Lord learn that you aren't providing me with my just rewards. From now on, we will make certain to keep up the pretense more carefully and maybe make it look as if you are becoming enamored a little as we'd previously discussed."

She swallowed nervously and nodded in agreement. Her entire body began trembling as he propped himself up with his hands and gazed down at her, his hair hanging down about his face. For an instant, his hard eyes seemed to soften with something foreign... but she could not be certain as to exactly what it was. In the next instant, she was gasping again, for he rocked his body against hers roughly, causing sparks of tingles to flow through her veins. Although they both had on underthings, she could still feel him well enough, digging against her up and down, arousing her. Hermione closed her eyes again and felt her cheeks redden with shame as she wondered if he felt the heat between her legs. My body is betraying me.

"Oh!" escaped her lips. The next jab against her body felt different. It seemed that his body, too, was betraying him, for with each new rock of his hips, she could feel him hardening.

"Legs," he whispered suddenly, bed creaking beneath them as his movements quickened.

She immediately lifted her legs up to wrap around his waist, knowing instinctively that was what he wanted, though he only said one word. Peeking up at him, she saw that his eyes were closed, and his head was thrown back, as if he were enjoying their fake coupling. It was obvious that he had to be feeling some of the jolts that her body was experiencing; otherwise, he wouldn't have had an erection. Even as she watched, he picked up the pace, rubbing himself against her erotically, grinding his hips for more friction, as if they truly were having sex. He seemed to have decided to make the most of what was happening. Her breasts had little room for movement, but they were moving in time with his thrusts, and her hardened nipples were rubbing against his chest through the thin fabric of her bra. She found that her back was arching slightly, as if wanting his moving chest to graze them with a little more pressure. Her legs tightened around him, forcing him closer still.

The sudden bang of the headboard against the wall broke their spell, and he gazed down at her for a long moment, still rutting against her... with her. The continued rhythm of their bodies, hers now eagerly meeting his, the beating of the headboard against the wall, and the heavy, obviously aroused, breathing seemed to mesmerize them both. Of its own accord, her head lifted just as his began to lower, and their lips met, tentatively pressing against each other.

His opened first, tongue seeking an entrance. She parted her lips, bringing her fingers up from his waist to his back and hair, wanting to keep him close and feel his body flush against hers. Her tongue eagerly tangled with his until she threw her head back, breaking off the kiss. His mouth greedily nipped at her neck.

"Oh... ah... God," she said vocally, not caring that Rabastan was nearby, though mostly forgetting that he was. Her body's sensations were quickly building to a peak, and Snape's now more forceful and quicker pumps against her body coupled with the sucking of his mouth against her throat. The sensations were too much, and she moaned and panted in release.

In the same moment, she felt him growl against her, though her skin muffled whatever words he might have said. She didn't care. She'd just had a most wonderful orgasm... from Snape...again. The last two words filtered into her brain, and she tried to push them away, wanting to keep this moment a contented one for a little longer. As he lay panting on top of her, her legs collapsed down onto the bed, but she kept one arm around his waist, rubbing his slick back while the other smoothed down his tousled hair. The duvet had been kicked away at some point. When? She had no idea. The entire interlude hadn't taken long... had it? She had no idea. She'd simply been lost in the experience.

Suddenly she frowned, her prior thoughts coming back strongly. Ron. This was not Ron...with whom she should be sharing these experiences. This was Snape, who was holding her prisoner, claiming to want to spare her life, to help, but never opening himself to her. This was Dumbledore's killer.

As if sensing the change in her feelings towards him, his body tensed, and he quickly got up. Hermione watched as he pulled on his trousers, covering his underpants and the obvious evidence of his orgasm, and exited through the curtain without a single glance at her. Tears welled in her eyes. It wasn't that they'd just done something wrong or that she'd been violated, she knew that neither had a choice...not if she wanted to continue her somewhat peaceful existence. In fact, she couldn't really voice why she wanted to cry. There seemed to be so many things wrong that it was hard to pinpoint just one.

Upon hearing Rabastan's catcalls as Snape entered the loo, she reached down and pulled the duvet up over her, hoping he'd bring her some warm water and a cloth so that she might clean herself off in privacy without having to face Rabastan. When will I get out of here? She sniffled quietly and swiped at the tears upon her face. She was too confused to even internally voice what she was feeling...especially now. A loud sound next to her bed jarred her, and she sat up quickly.

Snape had returned, and to her surprise, he had brought her a cloth, water, and even the book she'd dropped in his haste to get her to his bed. He tossed the cloth to her, dropped the book on the bed, and began pulling on his shirt. She gazed at him, tears still falling uncontrollably from her eyes, hoping he'd say something.

He sneered at her as he pushed the last button through its hole. Her gaze lowered...unable to bear his scorn. "Don't cry," he said softly. When she looked up at him again, meeting his eyes levelly, the disgust upon his face was apparent, and he coldly added, "You fucking liked it." With that, he pulled on his robes indifferently, not bothering to fasten them as he left her there alone.

The moment he was out of sight, she began crying in earnest. Whatever she'd wanted him to say, that wasn't it. Of course he thought her to be crying because of what they'd shared, but that wasn't it at all. "It's just as well," she whispered, rising to clean herself and change her knickers. The only thing she now had to add to the misery she'd felt before was the loss of the Snape she'd just experienced...the one that was able to let himself go for a few moments and just feel. Back would be the cold, sneering, hateful Snape that made her feel as if one glare had enough malice behind it to harm her.

Maybe when Rabastan moved on, they would have time alone...time where she could talk to him to see if he could let her go back to her friends and family. She sighed, knowing deep down that she would likely be stuck there until the war was over... or until Voldemort requested her death.

Southern's Notes: Does anyone recognize the "Don't cry, you fucking liked it" bit? Weehee. It's from a show that I adore. Ever see the movie "Fear" with Mark Wahlberg? ~grin~ More up soon, all! Thanks for reading. I appreciate it.