Part II, chapter 1

AN: Here's a nice (?!) long chapter for you, and it is here so quickly thanks solely to the efforts of Southern the magnificent.

That's it. Snape had better watch out because I swear, one of these days, he's going to go to bed without his room warded against me, and he won't wake up until it's too late. I don't know how, but I'll get him.

I wonder why she's such a sore spot for him. If I didn't know better, I would say he was jealous, but he treats her worse than me.

But he is sensitive about her...

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Hermione woke to a low rumbling and winced. Looking around her, she found she was in her cot, but had no memory of getting there. She did remember Snape hexing her. It was the first time he had actually done more than threaten her, and she wasn't certain why. She supposed it was her defense of Wormtail, but she didn't quite get the reasoning behind that. Was it that she was just supposed to stay quiet, or was it because she'd defended Wormtail that made Snape so angry?

She sat up, wincing some more as her chest and back protested. Unfortunately, her movement also signaled her need to use the bathroom. Looking around for Snape, she found the source of the rumbling. Snape snored. She wondered why she hadn't heard it before until she realized that he probably did slip a mild sleeping potion into her evening water every night.

She wondered why he hadn't done so that night.

Slowly, carefully, she rolled out of bed, biting her lip to keep herself from crying out from the pain. She started to head toward the bathroom on the other side of the room, but the sight of Snape lying there, five feet from the toilet, made her take a risk.

She didn't know how deep a sleeper he was, but she didn't want to wake him. She didn't want to suffer from his rage if he discovered her disobedience, even if it was an urgent matter. So, she crept slowly to the door out. She expected it to be warded but was surprised to find that it was merely locked the Muggle way. She wondered if there were wards she couldn't immediately feel, but was too impatient. Her bladder was not pleased.

Opening the door slowly, she took her time slipping from the room, making sure to leave the door open just a crack so she could get back in.

She then found herself in a dark hall that she'd never had the chance to explore. She decided that exploring would have to wait a little longer and headed down to the ground floor and the water closet off the kitchen.

She was in such desperate need of the toilet, she didn't notice until she was on her way back that Wormtail was still in the kitchen. He was lying on the floor in a Full-Body Bind, right where Snape had left him. As she looked at him, his eyes moved to meet hers.

She gasped and jumped back in surprise, her hands covering her mouth. Shaking herself for her silliness, she quickly reoriented herself and looked for Wormtail's wand. She found it in his clenched fist.

It took awhile, but after much coaxing, she finally freed it from his grasp. It was a heady moment, holding a wand again, knowing she could curse Wormtail or Snape,and they wouldn't be able to do anything about it. It was a tempting thought. Unfortunately, it would leave her trapped. She needed the password to leave, and she really did not want Voldemort dropping by to find out why his loyal servants hadn't reported for work.

She gritted her teeth and cast a Finite Incantatem on Wormtail, releasing him from the body bind. He groaned and stiffly got to his feet, stretching his muscles. He seemed not to care that she was still holding his wand until he held out his hand.

Hesitating for only a moment, Hermione gritted her teeth again and handed it over. It was necessary for the plan.

"Thank you," he murmured, still rubbing his joints. "It's bloody uncomfortable being a stiff for so long."

"You're welcome," she whispered in return, hoping she'd made the right decision.

He looked at her for the first time, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And what are you doing up? Trying to sneak out?"

"Of course not," Hermione snapped, her body aches making her irritable. "I know better than that. I just had to use the toilet and didn't want to wake up Snape."

He narrowed his eyes even more and took a threatening step toward her. "Don't get snotty with me, girl!"

She closed her eyes, praying for patience. "I'm sorry, Peter. It's just... that hex... I'm in a lot of pain right now."

She jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"I forgot about that. Would you like a massage to make it feel better?"

She was glad she was facing the floor because she couldn't hold back her grimace at his sleazy tone. Taking a deep breath, she composed her face into something more grateful and looked up at him.

"That would be wonderful."

That look was back in his eyes, making her uncomfortable, but, at the same time, steadying her nerves. This was her way out. She could do this. She had to.

"Sit down, then," he said, his fingers twitching as if he couldn't wait to touch her.

Trusting that this couldn't be any worse than what Dolohov and company had done to her, she straddled the kitchen chair and leaned her head forward onto her crossed arms. She tensed as she waited for his touch and flinched when she felt his cold hands on her shoulders. The left one was trembling as if he were over-excited, but it was the right one that made her shudder. She could feel the dark magic of the silver hand trying to creep into her skin.

She reacted instinctively and tried to get up and away, but Wormtail held her in place.

"I'll make you feel much, much better," he tried to purr, but it came out more like gravel. That did not make her want to relax. However, she needed to cover her reaction; she needed him to think she trusted him.

"Sorry, Peter, it's just that your hands are really cold."

At that he did remove his hands from her, and she shuddered in relief. She'd had no idea that his hand would feel evil. She now wasn't convinced her plan was a good idea. If she felt like she would be infected with dark magic by simple contact with that hand, what would living with it do to a person? Did he have a heart for her to seduce? Or a soul to persuade?

His hands returned to their places, and she was glad she was already as tense as she could get. At least his hands weren't so cold; he'd cast a warming spell, which made his silver hand almost sufferable.

As he started to roughly knead her shoulders, she realized she was going to be very sore in the morning. He had no clue what to do. She was glad he couldn't see her face; there was no way to hide her grimaces.

Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. The metal hand was chilling her to the bone, and she felt dirty everywhere it had touched.

"Thank you, Peter," she said, squirming out of her place on the chair and standing to face him. He looked upset, both angry and sulky.

"What, you don't like my touch?" he asked, advancing slightly. She was amazed at how intimidating he could be, considering he was nearly half a head shorter than she was.

"It's not your touch that I don't like," she lied, then decided to risk a half truth. "It's that hand." She let her hand tremble as she pointed to his clenched right fist. "It... it just feels wrong."

He lifted the hand up to examine it, obviously getting angry.

"The Master gave this to me," he stated, as if that made everything better. She couldn't think of anything to say to that, so she just looked away.

He took her chin in his false hand and made her look at him. His grip was hard, and she cried out in pain. He immediately removed his hand but only to put it up to her face, forcing her to look at it.

"It is not wrong. It's beautiful!" he spat.

She touched her jaw tenderly and wondered if he'd broken it. When she opened her mouth to speak, she knew he had, for pain exploded in her face.

"Look at it!" he ordered, his voice squeaky with emotion. "Look at it and say it isn't beautiful!"

She brought her other hand up to cradle her jaw and looked at him through teary eyes. She then slumped down into the chair beside her, knowing what the stars in her vision meant.

At her collapse, he seemed to come out of his defensive trance and looked at her with beady eyes.

"What's wrong now?" he asked, obviously still angry with her. She closed her eyes and pointed to her jaw. She didn't open her eyes again until she felt the tip of his wand run along her chin. When she looked, she found Wormtail looking at her worriedly and squirming as if he had an itch.

"I – I didn't mean to hurt you, Hermione. I... Does it feel better now?"

She touched her jaw tentatively at first, then a little more firmly once there proved to be no pain. Still thoroughly upset, she forced herself to smile at him, although it was wobbly.

He gave her a relieved smile and then looked back at his hand. She could almost see the emotions of fear, doubt and awareness running through his head, and she shuddered that there hadn't been any remorse.

Suddenly, she felt very afraid.

He glanced up at her and, seeing her expression, hastily hid his hand behind his back, though he looked more pleased than ashamed by her reaction.

"Don't worry, Hermione," he said, his voice losing its squeak as it became very oily again. "I won't hurt you. You've been nice to me. I don't have any reason to hurt you." The emphasis on the last word did not take anything away from the implicit threat of that statement, though, and Hermione struggled to hide her growing unease.

"I... I trust you, Peter," she lied, cursing her voice for breaking.

He smiled, and his beady eyes roamed over her form, as if exploring the possibilities with new eyes. Hermione tried not to react as if she'd noticed.

"Is your back feeling better?" he asked.

She nodded with a faint smile that obviously wasn't convincing.

"Now, Hermione, don't lie. I won't touch you with this hand if you don't want me to." She bit her lip reflexively, debating with herself. Her body and instinct was telling her to run for safety, even if that safety was Snape's room and possible wrath. Her mind was telling her she needed to prove her supposed trust.

"Alright," she muttered, ignoring her roiling stomach and made to straddle the chair again, but he intercepted her.

"I have a better idea," he said, his beady eyes glittering as he took her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen.

"What? Where are we going?" she whispered.

Wormtail smiled at her. "Someplace where we can be more comfortable."

She was glad he turned around again as he pulled her forward because she could feel the blood drain from her face. As they made their way up the stairs, she wondered if she could escape to Snape's room or call for help, but she knew Snape wouldn't help. He'd probably think that this was her just reward for sneaking out of his sight in the first place.

She cursed herself again and again for coming up with the stupid plan, realizing, a bit belatedly, what she'd brought onto herself. Once more, she felt very, very stupid.

She had to turn it around. He hadn't attacked her yet, so maybe she could do something to forestall it or avert it altogether. Showing her fear would only make things worse, she knew that much, so she deliberately started rhythmic breathing. She could fix this.

She knew she wasn't stupid, not really. She knew she could solve just about any problem that was set before her; she'd proven that time and again. If she had a wand, she wouldn't be in this position at all, seeing as she'd have hexed Wormtail's balls off at the first sleazy look he gave her.

But she didn't have a wand, as was made even more obvious when Wormtail shut the door behind them and cast a Silencing Spell.

"Don't want to wake Snape, do we?" he said in what was supposed to be a reassuring tone, though there was a hint of fear buried in there.

That's when she realized her strength. She was the stronger person. She didn't need more powerful people around for their protection. She was surrounded by strong people, but she was the one who took care of them! She wasn't weak-willed the way Wormtail was, always sucking up and pandering to those who might help him. She just needed to prove to him that she was the stronger of them – without getting herself killed.

She needed to convince him that she could help him more than Snape could. She had to convince him that she could protect him.

She smiled at the irony.

"Sorry about the mess," Wormtail said, suddenly nervous. She was standing straighter, and she knew that he could sense her inner power. Her smile broadened.

"Don't worry about it," she said, ignoring the big bug scuttling across the floor beside Wormtail. "You know, it really is kind of you to help me like this," she said.

Wormtail flushed, looking slightly confused. He was probably wondering where the scared girl from the kitchen was. She smiled reassuringly.

"And after moving around a little, I really feel a lot better. Do you?"

"W – What?" he stammered, thoroughly confused.

"Do you feel better?" She stayed where she was, thinking that walking toward him at this point would be counterproductive.

"Um... I suppose." His eyes were shifting all around the room, looking for some possible reason for her newfound confidence.

"You aren't still stiff?" she asked, but then suddenly saw the double entendre. She didn't really feel like going there as of yet, so she added in as innocent a tone as possible, "You were lying on that cold floor for a long time after all."

Comprehension dawned, as well as a flicker of resentment.

"Oh... yes, that. It's... I'm still a little sore."

She adopted her normal bossy stance and said, "Well then, it's only fair that I return the favor."

He looked at her wide-eyed and a little slack-jawed. "Come again?"

She smiled sweetly. "Lie down on your stomach, and I'll give you a back massage."

He stared at her warily for a moment, as if trying to suss out any threat, but, finding none, slowly did as she'd requested, though he tried to keep his eyes on her the entire time.

She smiled reassuringly once more and walked up to the bed. When her face was no longer visible to him, she bit her lip, allowing herself that one sign of distress as she climbed up onto the bed and straddled him.

He tensed visibly and flinched when she gently placed her hands on his back. She obviously wasn't the only one with trust issues.

"Ssh. Relax and I'll make you feel better," she said, mirroring his words from earlier. Not surprisingly, that did not make him relax.

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What is she up to? She's been so nervous and looked downright terrified in the kitchen. Did Snape send her? It's not like him to let her out of his sight, and I know he's not that deep a sleeper... What is he up to?

But, oh, Merlin, her touch... If this is what a massage feels like...

Maybe I can use her against Snape. One way or another.