It Begins

~o0o~

Severus had just left Spinner's End and Apparated to the large country home the Dark Lord had appropriated from an elderly pureblood couple, Tannis Gwynek and his wife, Elspeth. Both were now Imperiused to do the Dark Lord's bidding.

Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Malfoy and Belinda Kirshner sat in the large room by the windows when Severus entered the doorway. Narcissa sat up stiffer as Severus entered, but he chose to ignore her as he waited to be acknowledged by the Dark Lord and permitted to approach. Narcissa tried to slyly attract his attention, and Severus smiled but refused to turn in her direction. Belinda was reclining gracefully, the angle of her body held so as to display her curves and yet appear serene and disinterested. He knew she was neither of those. Her eyes roamed over him subtly, even as she rolled her shoulder slightly, exposing her cleavage a bit more prominently, and Severus's smile lingered slightly longer as he easily read Belinda's obvious invitation. Bellatrix, on the other hand, was simply lounging, calmly watching, her hazel eyes flicking between Severus, her sister and friend with a feigned indifference, rolling her wand casually in her fingers. Between the three women, it was Bellatrix who Severus was always the most cautious around – she was the unpredictable one.

The Dark Lord paced by the Floo in the large room as Marcus Flint and William Boyle knelt at his feet, making some kind of groveling replies. With a dismissive wave of the Dark Lord's hand, they rose and backed away before they turned, walked quickly past Severus and disappeared into the hall with only the slightest acknowledgement of their past Head of House. Severus smiled inwardly and continued to wait patiently. With a curt wave the Dark Lord called him over. "Ah, Severus, come. You are finally here." He walked over to the Dark Lord and calmly knelt in a show of respect he hadn't truly felt for years. "Rise, Severus." He stood up gracefully and carefully kept his mind blank, ready for invasion.

"I want news regarding the Muggle-born," the Dark Lord said softly, his red eyes boring into Severus's and his nostrils flaring in irritation. "I have heard nothing so far, Severus, except that she's been missing."

"She's recovering, my Lord. We had that unfortunate set-back, but she is recovering," Severus stated. Nagini hissed as she readjusted her coils around the large stand beside the Dark Lord's chair.

"Yes, that set-back. I had hoped that she'd be recovered by now?" the Dark Lord said, his head swaying slightly like a snake and his eyes narrowing in frustration. "This delays my plans, Severus."

"She was hurt pretty badly, my Lord," Severus replied. "She will recover from this soon."

"I thought it was understood that the girl wasn't to be harmed, that such was not allowed?" the Dark Lord asked, brandishing his wand lazily in his hand, a deceptive gesture that did not mean the pacified indifference it suggested.

Severus knew the movement well and suppressed the thought, It was your 'allowance' that had put Miss Granger in the physical state from which I had to heal her in the first place, to the back of his mind. "I do not believe Wormtail has become fully accustomed to his hand," he stated, successfully keeping the sneer from his voice.

The Dark Lord watched Severus's face with an impassive expression. "So, have you been able to make leeway with her?"

Severus nodded. "Some, my Lord. She trusts me, mostly because of her perceived past association with me through the Order and her six years at school as my student. Nevertheless, I do expect her to be resistant to joining our side. She spent all her magical years under Dumbledore's influence, and she's Potter's close friend after all."

"Regardless, you are making Miss Granger tractable to our plan, are you not?" the Dark Lord asked with a suggestive inflection in his voice and a glint in his red eyes.

Severus knew better than to lie. "It has been hard to do much... until she is well. I have made her my consort, my Lord, and I will have her trust and her respect, that I can assure you." Severus noticed Belinda sit up in reaction to his declaration, a scowl flickered on her face before she once again managed school her expression back into something impassive.

"I expected more," the Dark Lord said in an eerily quiet and thoughtful tone. "Much more, considering her current association with you. I was led to believe that you desired a union with this girl. Do you not?"

For a brief moment Severus was wary of what demands he would be given regarding Hermione. "I believe you gave her to me to do with as I saw fit in that regard," Severus said, then immediately regretted his temerity as the Dark Lord's red eyes narrowed dangerously. "I will do what you require of me," Severus stated languidly.

"I was under the impression that Miss Granger made a Plight-Pairing Charm or a Betrothal-Pairing Charm that has identified you," the Dark Lord said with the subtle hint of a question and a wicked twist of his lips. His pale head tilted slightly as he considered Severus. "Is this not what I saw in your mind?"

Severus lip curled up slightly before he schooled his features once again into their usual state of indifference. Belinda raised her eyebrow at him, and her mouth twitched as she tried not to look disconcerted by the information, while Narcissa smiled openly at Bellatrix. "That has yet to be determined, my Lord. I haven't yet been able to examine this parchment of hers, and I cannot rule out that it may, in fact, be a joke item," he replied solicitously.

The Dark Lord's red eyes narrowed and his slit-like nostrils flared slightly. He lifted his chin, looking down at Severus over his flat nose. "Is that how you read the memory, or have you changed your mind?" Bellatrix snickered quietly, but both men ignored her. "I was under the impression that this parchment held strong Dark Magic, magic that connected Miss Granger to you."

Severus retained his composure, keeping his mask of indifference firmly in place. "The parchment was purchased from the Weasley boys' shop – a joke shop. Granted, they sell defensive items as well, but neither could make the powerful Betrothal-Pairing Charms necessary for the parchment to be genuine, and they do not use Dark Magic of any kind. They loathe the Dark Arts." Bellatirx leaned over to listen so something Narcissa whispered to her, and her eyebrows rose significantly.

"I see... If in fact this was a joke item, I understand your caution. Nevertheless, she is of some use to me, Severus," the Dark Lord said with a silibant hiss. "If she cannot be turned to our side, there is always the possibility of perception... What one believes can be as destructive as what is real. She is, as you say – living as your consort... Take her in hand, Severus. Put her under the Imperius if you need to. She must be seen... in public and with us, Severus," the Dark Lord stated. "Be sure she is seen."

"It will be as you wish, my Lord," he said.

"And what of your apprentice, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked, his red eyes briefly glancing toward the women in the room. Bellatrix eyed the Dark Lord with heavy lidded eyes that showed a deep desirous intent while Narcissa's attention became completely focused on Severus.

Severus paused for a brief moment and noticed Narcissa stiffen slightly in anticipation of his response. "He progresses as I anticipated he would," he said cryptically. He saw Narcissa's eyes narrow slightly and smiled inwardly.

The Dark Lord nodded and smiled. "Very good... and his other training – that which he lacked at Hogwarts? Will he be ready?" the Dark Lord asked.

Severus knew that Narcissa was desperate for any news of Draco or his training; however, he chose to keep his comments cryptic. "Yes, my Lord – he will. Again, he progresses as I anticipated he would."

The Dark Lord's lips stretched in a cold smile. "So, this time he will be ready. Well done, Severus."

"Thank you, my Lord," he said simply. "He should be more capable to handle whatever you request of him, even despite his exuberant youthfulness."

The Dark Lord stood silently watching Nagini as she rested on her stand. "Let us hope so... for his sake."

Severus noted, with some satisfaction, that Narcissa paled slightly and sat up straighter, her back rigid. He turned and walked purposefully from the room, stopping only briefly to give a polite nod and acknowledgement to the ladies before he exited. He had been amused to see Bellatrix reach out a hand to refrain Narcissa from rising to follow him, but he noted that Belinda did rise. As soon as she was on her feet, however, the Dark Lord called the three women to him. Severus mentally scoffed at the momentary look of disappointment on Belinda's face before she turned toward the Dark Lord.

~o0o~

Hermione woke up with a start to find Snape propped up on one arm, staring at her. She had no idea if she'd slept one night or two days, but she as felt stiff and sore as if she'd slept a week. She instinctively pulled the covers up to her chin, and he pushed them back down nearly to her groin. "Don't," he said simply. "I want to see that bruise on your abdomen." She held her breath as he pulled the night-slip up, exposing the hand-shaped bruise. His finger traced the discolored flesh with the slightest of pressure, but it still caused her to inhale in pain, and he scowled at her reaction. "Where else did he touch you, your thigh and your hip – anywhere else?"

"Yes, my wrist and my bottom," she answered, unnerved by his stare.

Snape sat up. "Show me." She held up her wrist and he laughed. "No, your bottom, Miss Granger."

"There isn't anything to see there. He touched me, but not with the silver hand. It doesn't hurt," she stated. His narrowed as he looked down at her accusingly. "No really, only my abdomen, hip and thigh hurt where he pressed that hand on me." She watched him ease from the bed, walk over to her bedside table and pick up a jar.

"Now get up," he demanded, yanking the covers from her and pulling her from the bed. "Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?" he asked in his silky drawl, giving Hermione the sudden feeling that a stone-sized Snitch fluttered in her midsection.

"I think I can manage," Hermione said as she tried to rise, but her joints and muscles ached as well as her hip and abdomen, so she sagged back to the bed. "I still hurt; give me a moment."

Impatiently, he lifted her effortlessly, carried her into the loo, placed her on the edge of the tub and helped her slide inside. He sat on the edge of the tub behind her, reaching over her to turn on the faucets. As the tub filled, he helped her pull her night-slip off, tossing the wet garment unceremoniously on the floor. Hermione crossed her arms to cover herself until the frothy bubbles rose to conceal her body from him. He dumped a large amount of the crystallized substance from the jar into the bath water, and the foamy water turned a soft blue. Reaching above her, he pulled out a washcloth and dipped it in the water. "Lean forward, Miss Granger."

Hermione complied, hugging her knees and allowed him to wash her back, his strong fingers massaging her shoulders and sore muscles. She closed her eyes, letting his fingers work their magic on her aching muscles with the warm, soapy water, wishing to herself that he would continue his massage over her entire body. Now that's not likely to happen, she mused. She felt him shift and push her forward slightly. "Are you going to – you're not going take a bath with me, are you?" she asked, alarmed, trying to turn around, but he held onto her shoulders firmly as he worked her lower back.

"Why, shouldn't I?" he asked, his voice low, but she detected a hint of humor. "Hand me the shower wand and tilt your head back," he demanded. She gave it to him, tilted her head back with her arms crossed to cover herself, and he soaked her hair and shoulders. Hermione closed her eyes as he washed her hair with his shampoo, enjoying the fresh, woodsy scent. His fingers on her scalp were hypnotizing. He reached for the shower wand, rinsed her hair out, and applied something else to her hair. "Head back, Miss Granger," he snapped when she tried to see what he was using, still keeping her arms crossed over her chest to cover herself. "Rinse off," he demanded. He stood and reached for a large towel. He pulled two corners apart, letting the towel unfold and held the towel open like a barrier, waiting for her with a look of impatience as she rose from the tub. She was surprised to see how large the towel was, easily large enough to wrap around her twice. Mutely Hermione stood, allowing him to wrap the towel around her, enclosing her in an embrace. When she looked up at him, his dark eyes were distant and impassive.

"Back on the bed, please," he said, steering her back to the bedroom, and he waited as Hermione sat down. He glared at her before saying, "Lie down."

"Please, may I get dressed...?" she started to say, and his eyes flashed with annoyance.

"Lie down, Miss Granger; I do not like repeating myself." She lay down, careful to keep the towel around her as much as possible. He smirked at her efforts and waved his hand to have her shift over and sat down next to her as he opened a jar of creamy, butter-yellow salve. He pulled the sheet over her legs and opened the towel to expose the handprint bruise again. "Wormtail, what did he say to you?" Snape asked as he gently applied the salve on her bruise.

The thick salve stung on contact, and she assumed that it was a different Bruise Paste than the one Madam Pomfrey used at school. Snape's fingers were tender as he massaged in the salve, but the bruise left from Wormtail's hand hurt under his ministrations. His scowl deepened as he worked, and although it might have been her imagination, she thought that she could practically feel the salve absorb deep into her skin.

"He said I was pretty," Hermione finally replied. Snape raised an eyebrow, and she knew he wanted to hear everything Wormtail had said. "He asked if I miss my friends – if I miss Ron. He mentioned some of his memories – of me – from the Burrow... from when he was Ron's pet...."

She could see a tick in his cheek as he clenched his jaw. "Did you in any way entice him, Miss Granger?"

"NO!" she exclaimed, almost sitting up. "I would never – how could you think that?" He didn't react to her words at all, and Hermione thought that he didn't believe her. "It's not like I haven't been paraded around him in seductive attire or had to put up with his constant innuendos and lecherous stares. I told him to leave me alone, repeatedly – not that it does any good. You see how he is... but you don't tell him to stop it or anything."

Snape's lip curled in a derisive smile. "You don't think I've let his impropriety go without comment, do you? Be assured, Miss Granger, I have made it quite clear to the Rat that you are to be left alone. Let me see where he touched your thigh," he instructed. Hermione angled herself carefully and crossed her right leg over her left. His fingers tenderly massaged in the salve along the discoloration, making Hermione grit her teeth in pain as he worked the salve into her skin.

"Sir, Wormtail, he's still in his cage, outside – I presume," she said.

"Yes, he's currently sitting on the back stoop," Snape said with a wicked grin. "Roll on your side; I need to apply this to your hip." Hermione rolled back toward him, and he began working the salve into her left hip, his tender touch still just as painful. "He will not bother you again without consequence." Snape set the jar on her bedside table and then leaned over her, his hand near the small of her back. "I believe that I made the rules very clear to you," he said, his rich, silky voice carried a hint of threat.

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. "Yes."

"And they are?" he asked with a hint of malice in his grin.

The rules – his rules... no questions. "No wand, no questions – and no killing me..." she stammered.

He laughed at her. "Those are Draco's instructions," he said coolly. "I believe that I said, you are not permitted to ask questions, use a wand, and that you are to obey me." He leaned down, his eyes cold as he glared at her. "They are simple enough rules. Was I in anyway unclear?"

"No," she replied fearfully. Oh, Circe, now what...

He looked at her thoughtfully, and bracing himself on his arms, he leaned down toward her, his face so close she could feel his breath caress her skin. "Let me then amend your rules so that you can fully understand them. I expect you to obey me – at all times. And for now, you will not be allowed a wand," he said, then lowered his voice to a soft deliberate drawl. "These two rules are for your own good – for your safety. Also, you are to hold your tongue around anyone you know to be or may assume to be a Death Eater. However, in this room, or while we're alone, I expect you to be honest with me and to confide in me."

"Like you're being with me?" she snapped, rolling onto her side, clutching the towel to her chest.

"Yes." His expression relaxed a fraction before he schooled his features once again into his usual inexpressive mask. "As much as I can be," he continued softly. He sat up abruptly and rolled Hermione onto her stomach, pushing the towel away, exposing her bottom and thighs.

"Hey, no...!" she exclaimed as his hand landed on her bum, sliding down her leg slightly.

"I told you I wanted to see where he touched you," he said dryly. He scowled at the black and blue bruises that had been caused from her fall on the stairs. "Why did you lie to me about this?" he asked as his hand seemed to roam on her hip.

"NO! I didn't – exactly... It doesn't hurt – really." Hermione suddenly felt uncomfortable with the too familiar caress as his fingers traced the bruise. He pinned her down as he reached for another jar off the bedside table.

He chuckled coolly as she struggled to roll back onto her side away from him. "It's Bruise Paste, Miss Granger. Hold still." He rubbed the cool salve into her skin, his long fingers sliding possessively and rather intimately over her hips and down along the back of her thighs.

She knew he was covering the entire bruise, But surely the bruising isn't that extensive! When his fingers slipped down between her thighs slightly, she inhaled in shock by what she perceived as an intimate touch rather than merely necessary treatment. "Stop that!" she exclaimed, an angry chastisement forming on the edge of her tongue. His gentle stroking was giving her chills, intimate shivers that played havoc with her emotions. In her anger she missed the soft footfalls outside his bedroom door. "How dare you!" she admonished him with a shriek. She tried to roll away again, but he held her down.

"Yes, I dare." He leaned over her again, blocking her with his arm against the curve of her back. "In case you are unaware, Draco was just outside our door." Her gaze quickly turned toward the door. "I asked to see your bottom, Miss Granger, for a reason. When I ask you to do something, I expect you to comply."

"Oh, yes, rule three – to obey you," she mumbled under her breath with withering contempt.

"Yes. Although, technically let's make that rule one," His body tensed, his shoulders and arms locked on either side of her as he lowered his head closer to hers. "Rule two: learn to control your incessant need to ask questions and your outbursts. Know when to speak," he continued softly. "There are Death Eaters in this house, Miss Granger, who report directly to the Dark Lord. Others may on occasion stop by to see either Draco, Wormtail or myself, although, not frequently. You are, for all intents and purposes, my hostage – despite what plans the Dark Lord may conceive. And I am supposed to be treating you as such. Either you are to start obeying me or I will be required to punish you. Are you going to be good and refrain from disobeying me?" She nodded, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye, and she bit her lip. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone apathetic and inflexible, but missing his usual sneer. "Do not doubt that I mean what I say, Miss Granger: impertinence will be punished. You are not a guest here. Now, dry and brush your hair. The elf will be up shortly to help you dress," he said.

He stood as he watched her roll onto her back and cover herself with the covers, then turned to leave. "You – how could you?" she snapped at him angrily, hurt by his threat.

He paused, his back to her. "Because I have to. Now get up and get dressed; we are going shopping today. I need supplies," he stated off-handedly and left.

Hermione froze momentarily at his comment. Shopping? We're going... He's going to take me with him? Her mind raced with the possibilities as she climbed out of bed and made her way to the loo for her brush. A slight hope rose in her. Diagon Alley? If we go to Diagon Alley, I might run into someone I know... But he's well known now – he's Dumbledore's killer... Would he go to Diagon Alley? He'll be recognized. Where do Death Eaters go to buy stuff?

Peren was waiting for her when she entered the room and was standing on a small stool with a light breakfast. A black robe and lightweight cloak lay on the bed, and a pair of soft boots sat on the floor. The elf held up a black night-slip and Hermione allowed the elf to help her. The robe sailed into the elf's hands, and Hermione slid her arms and head into the garment, surprised at the feel of the expensive cloth. She looked down at her gown, noticing that the long gown had been cut on the bias and clung to her curves far too seductively for her comfort.

"Peren, where did this come from?" she asked, already sure of the answer. She nibbled on the large, freshly made scone from her plate.

Peren motioned to Hermione, her tiny hand angled toward the stool. "Miss is to sit, please?" she asked in her delicate little voice. Hermione's bruises still stung, but she didn't want to be difficult for the elf, so she sat on the stool, gritting her teeth. Peren began to pat at her hair with a small hand towel. "Master Snape, he told my Mistress that you needed clothes for today. She brings this for you."

"Peren, who is your master? Whom do you serve?" Hermione asked. She had been curious about the elf. Draco said she was his, but Snape treats her as if she belongs to him. She knew Snape was a half-blood, and his father was Muggle. So it's unlikely Peren would be from the noble house of Snape, unless Peren was his mum's....

"I is of the noble house of Malfoy, Miss, but I is given to Master Snape by my Mistress," Peren stated proudly.

"So, are you allowed to talk to me now?" Hermione asked, noticing that the elf hadn't punished herself for speaking.

"Oh, no, Miss! But I will sufficiently punish myself with Master Draco's slipper when we are finished." Hermione looked at the elf in surprise. "I will hit myself once for each speaking, as you tell me to, Miss," she promised as she gently brushed out Hermione's tresses and pulled part of her hair back on either side of her head, securing it in place with sparkling black clips.

"I don't like you hurting yourself on my account. It's not fair," Hermione said with a heavy sigh. She saw that Peren had tears in her eyes when she stepped over to the bed to retrieve the cloak.

Snape entered the bedroom just as Peren placed the cloak on her shoulders, his back robes billowing behind him. "Give me your right hand, Miss Granger," he said, looking at her with feigned indifference.

After his earlier treatment and his statements, she didn't want to anger him, so she stood up, silently holding out her right arm. He pulled a shiny, iridescent grey bracelet and necklace from his pocket, obviously made from some kind of thick shell. It reminded her of abalone shells from the beach. Snape placed the bracelet on her wrist and sealed the clasp with his wand. There was an odd, prickling vibration in her wrist under the bracelet.

"The remains of one of those infernal Blast-Ended Skrewts that Hagrid bred," Snape said with an amused smirk, moving to stand behind her, placing the necklace around the base of her neck as Hermione pulled her hair aside for him. "I thought it appropriate," he said softly in her ear. The necklace vibrated as the bracelet had. "The shell itself will repel spells, and I have added anti-Apparation wards as well. Should you even try, your head and wand-hand will splinch off."

She closed her eyes to bite back the fury she felt at his declaration, angered by his precautions. "They are lovely, thank you," she said sarcastically. His lip curled in an amused smirk as he secured the entwining snakes of her cloak clasp. He took her arm as he guided her from the room, down the stairs, past the door to the kitchen and down a longer hallway.

Narcissa Malfoy was standing in the back entry, waiting, talking with Draco with a warm, motherly smile. Hermione saw Narcissa wipe something off his shoulder before she looked up and saw them approach. She looked at Hermione with an unconcerned, appraising glance from head to toe and then turned her gaze to Snape as he fastened his cloak. Hermione faced Narcissa solemnly. "Thank you for the robes, Mrs. Malfoy. They are very nice," she said politely, actually grateful for the lovely robes.

Narcissa shot her a scathing glare. "They were necessary," she said in a dismissive tone, obviously noticing how Draco's eyes swept over Hermione's appearance. Hermione averted her gaze, catching Snape's dark scowl, and looked down at the floor.

"Narcissa if you would please... lead the way," he said politely, taking Hermione's arm in a tight grip.

Narcissa simply nodded, then looked lovingly at Draco, turned, and exited into the back garden.

"Try anything and you will regret it," he said, his rich voice menacing. Narcissa smiled knowingly and Apparated. As soon as she disappeared, Snape pulled Hermione close to him.

Hermione looked up at him, her brown eyes meeting his black. "If the chance presents itself..." Draco let out a contemptuous laugh at her words. "I'll take it..."

"It won't," Snape stated confidently, interrupting her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her tightly to his chest. Breathing became hard and her pulse raced, both by his close proximity and the fear of losing her head. He chuckled mirthlessly, his lips brushing against her hair. "Don't you trust me, Miss Granger?" he asked just before the familiar sensation of Apparation tugged at her.

Hermione was shaking, holding onto Snape tightly as they Disapparated onto the dark street of Knockturn Alley. Snape thrust Hermione to stand in front of him as Draco Apparated next to them. "I will use the Imperius on you, Miss Granger, if you make even the slightest move to disobey me. Do not doubt that," he warned.

"Do you really think that you can trust her, Severus?" Narcissa asked.

"No," Snape replied, touching his wand to Hermione's necklace. The necklace vibrated, the sharp stinging sensation nearly making Hermione gag. "However, I expect our little Gryffindor to try something. That's why you are here," he said calmly. Snape grabbed her wrist, touching his wand to the bracelet, and the stinging vibration made her hand spasm. Snape cocked his eyebrow as her eyes filled with tears. "So, do I need to use the Imperius, Miss Granger, or will you comply?"

Hermione looked around. They were standing in front of a shop called, Slange and Drage, and from where they stood, she could see the doors of Gringotts. There were a few people on the street beyond, walking along Diagon Alley, but none turned in their direction. Two men in dark robes stood idly about a few paces away, lingering aimlessly, but they merely glanced at them and returned their gaze down the alley. However, not having a wand, and with Snape, Draco and Narcissa all holding their wands at the ready, she had little hope of escape. Yet. That and the necklace and bracelet had vibrated with spells she couldn't identify. Maybe if they separate, I could simply make a run for it, she thought, looking back at Snape, and then banished the idea as she looked again at the two men who appeared to be just loitering in the street. Death Eaters? More of Snape's friends? I wouldn't put it past him to have arranged this... but all for me? Still, he obviously carefully planned this little trip, right down to the details, she acknowledged to herself. She turned back to him, refusing to look him in the face and nodded. "I don't have any choice," she said meekly, her eyes flashing with anger.

Snape laughed as he firmly wrapped his fingers around her arm, making her follow him. "No, you don't."

Draco fell into step right behind her. Hermione felt as effectively trapped between Snape and the Malfoys, as if Snape had actually put chains on her. Inside Slange and Drange, Snape walked confidently up to the counter and requested to see Ian Frastoter while Narcissa stood next to Draco near the door.

The shop keep immediately disappeared behind the counter, and a portly, bald man with pale eyes stepped up to face Snape. "Master Snape, how may I have the privilege to serve you?" Mr. Frastoter inquired.

"I believe you have something for me," Snape relied.

"Yes, I do... and a request," Mr. Frastoter said. Hermione stood and gazed around the small shop. Mr. Frastoter reached below the counter and handed Snape a folded piece of parchment, a small brown bag and a long package. "I've need of your services again," he said softly. "When can we expect the delivery?"

Snape read the parchment, folded it back up and looked up at the proprietor. "Many of these will take several weeks, a few – a month, the rest in four days," he said. "Handled by the usual arrangement."

Mr. Frastoter nodded, handing Snape a small pouch. "The usual arrangement then... I'll look forward to your delivery."

Snape nodded, then turned and indicated to Narcissa and Draco with a nod that he was finished. Narcissa smiled in acknowledgement, stepping aside. Snape walked up to Hermione, and taking her hand, firmly guided her from the shop, followed closely by Draco and Narcissa.

Hermione could hear Narcissa and Draco talking softly behind them as she followed Snape down the street. Although she couldn't make out the conversation, by his tone of voice, Draco seemed to be either asserting or confirming something politely, but firmly to his mother, but obviously being insistent in his statements. Narcissa's comments and replies were spoken much too softly for Hermione to make out anything, but with the few glimpses that she made, under the pretense of looking in the shop windows, she knew Narcissa wasn't very happy. They passed a shop displaying giant spiders and poisonous snakes and entered Borgin & Burkes.

In Borgin & Burkes, Draco made several purchases and an exchange obviously prearranged with Mr. Burke. Snape never let go of Hermione's arm, standing her in the center of the shop, keeping her back to the counter while Draco conducted his business. Narcissa stood by the door, appearing disinterested; however, her eyes never strayed from Hermione and Snape.

Many of the items in the shop looked familiar to Hermione, either from lectures in Professor Lupin's or Professor Moody's classes, or what she had read about dark artifacts in either the Hogwarts library or the one in Grimmauld Place. A few items made her skin crawl from seeing them in person. A shiver ran down her spine when her eyes fell upon the familiar glass case she'd seen her first time in this shop, remembering the opal necklace she'd seen here – the same one that had nearly killed Katie Bell.

Hermione was relieved when they finally left the shop. Outside, Snape firmly pulled Hermione past a shop which displayed shrunken heads and withered body parts of animals, a shop whose sign read, Nightshades Exotics, with odd plants in the window, past another that advertised Ministry approved poisons and charmed items, and one displaying an array of candles and trinkets in the window.

Narcissa had again resumed her conversation with Draco, but each time Narcissa caught Hermione slyly trying to peek at them in the windows of the shops, she openly glared at her. Draco, however, held himself stiffly, his eyes scanning the few shoppers in the street as they passed when not looking at Snape's back or at his mum.

At the conjunction of the street, Snape guided Hermione forcibly to their right, followed closely by the Malfoys, down a short narrow alley that ended at the Knockturn Apothecary.

Once inside, Snape released her, approaching the counter. "I want to see Mr. Aster Mactabilis," he said firmly to the shop assistant.

The Apothecary slithered up to Snape, rubbing one hand in his other. "Ah, Master Snape, what a pleasure, sir. I have your order ready for you as requested," he adulated in a manner Hermione could only consider slimy.

"That remains to be seen," Snape replied coolly. "Draco," he called from over his shoulder.

Watching for several minutes, Hermione figured that both Draco and Snape appeared sufficiently distracted, carefully inspecting each ingredient in the various bottles, pouches and jars. She took a few tentative steps back, easing for the door, watching Snape's back warily. "Going somewhere?" Narcissa asked lazily, her wand digging into Hermione's side.

"No," Hermione answered, silently berating herself.

"No? But I'd rather hoped that you would," Narcissa said scornfully. "Considering everything you have done to my family – and our family's honor, Mudblood, I would love an excuse." The tip of her wand warmed against Hermione's side, hurting her.

"I was curious... I just wanted to look around," she lied.

Narcissa laughed in a smooth contemptuous purr. "Oh, by all means, look. I'm sure you'll find things here that you've never seen, Mudblood."

Hermione turned her head, looking at the ingredients offered in the bins and shelves, afraid to move from where she stood. Many of the ingredients she easily recognized, many more she didn't and a few made her stomach turn.

Narcissa noted where her gaze stopped. "Shall I tell you what those are used for?" Narcissa asked haughtily, leaning in close to her.

"No, thank you," Hermione replied, averting her gaze and immediately regretting her curiosity as her eyes swept over an assortment of embryos in various glass jars and multiple jars of animal organs.

"Really, my dear," Narcissa cooed, her wand tip roaming lazily against Hermione's side, "I'd be happy to enlighten you. Or maybe you'd like to have Severus explain their uses. He knows far more of them than I do."

"Is anything wrong?" Snape asked peremptorily, regarding Hermione's reactions with an amused smirk. Her breath caught in her chest, and she wanted nothing more than to leave the shop, but she shook her head as she met his stare.

"Something piqued the curiosity of your little Gryffindor, Severus," Narcissa replied in a seductive tone. "I don't think the little Muggle-born has ever seen such goodies before."

Snape nodded, never taking his eyes from Hermione's. "Draco has taken the ingredients and breakables to the house, Narcissa. I am done with my errands, and we'll Apparate outside... Unless, there is anything you need for yourself?"

Narcissa's eyes flicked briefly around the shop, and Hermione saw a flicker of disappointment before she looked back up at Snape. "Yes," she replied smoothly, removing her wand from Hermione's side. "If you would escort me to Ater Décor, I'd be grateful. I can manage home from there."

Severus gave her a knowing smile. "My pleasure," he said and waved his hand, indicating she lead the way.

Walking back up the street, a few of the curious passersby made quick, sly glances, but no one paused to openly speak to them. The shop Ater Décor, which stood at the junction of Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley, had false windows on either side of a recessed doorway, and inside were racks and mannequins displaying all types of exotic ladies lingerie and skimpy apparel. Snape ventured in only deep enough to allow Hermione a fair glance at the merchandise.

"If there is anything you'd like, dear, I'd be happy to oblige. I'm sure Severus would love to see you in one of these," Narcissa said, holding up a leather corset and garters that wouldn't have contained a woman's breasts, but would instead enhance and display all her assets quite effectively. Narcissa's eyes sparkled with mischief in Snape's direction. He cocked an eyebrow at her, but made no reply.

Hermione paled at the thought of having to wear that around the house and numbly shook her head. "No? All right then." Narcissa smiled wickedly. "Let me know if you change her mind, Severus."

"Narcissa, as always, a pleasure," Snape said with a slight nod. "Come, Hermione, we're going." He paused just inside the door. "I'm afraid that this close to Diagon Alley this is necessary." He lifted his wand, and Hermione closed her eyes, fearing the worst. "Imperio." A calm and light headiness clouded her mind as all her stress and all thoughts of worry and fear dissolved away. Snape guided her out the door, and Hermione preceded him, feeling immensely relaxed merely from his reassuring presence.

"Stay with me, and keep your mouth closed," he ordered intensely.

The effect of the Imperius made his demand seem a soft reasonable request, if it hadn't been for his words. Keep my mouth closed? Stay with him and... Yes, stay close to him and... Keep my mouth closed...? Hermione fumed in anger beneath the vague happiness and serenity effects of the curse. They crossed the threshold into the recessed doorway, and Snape grabbed her arm, forcibly keeping her in front of him, swearing softly. Hermione looked up, and for a moment her mind struggled with what she was seeing. For that brief second it looked like a fantasy, a dream.

Lupin, Harry, Ron and Fred – or it could have been George, stood in the street gaping at her, only a stone's throw away. Hermione tried to fight the Imperius Curse to go to her friends, but her feet would not move, and the vague floating sensation clouded her mind. All four of her friends drew their wands out, ready, but Hermione knew that they would not use them against her and that in the narrow space of the recessed doorway they did not have a clear shot at Snape.

She struggled against the dim emptiness in her mind to force herself to think clearly and felt a slight release followed quickly by a sense of tight gripping pain. She could sense Snape stiffen behind her, his fingers digging into her arm and knew instinctively that he had his wand out, ready to fight. But she could not move; she could not step out of the doorway. The thought, Stay with me, and keep your mouth closed, echoed again.

She felt the bracelet vibrate, and Hermione counted silently, waiting for him to remove the Anti-Apparation ward off the necklace. Deactivate it... Keep my mouth shut... and if I can break the Imperius, I can escape... But I must stay with him, warred in her mind, making her head hurt.

Snape raised his wand to her neck, deactivating the necklace, and she knew that if she could just break the Imperius Curse, she could Apparate to freedom. Hermione tried to tell her friends to hex her, to drop her and fire at him, but she couldn't open her mouth, the demand and control of the curse still held her. She tried fighting the curse's effect, but she couldn't completely shrug off the feeling of lightheaded happiness.

"Hermione, come to me," Snape demanded softly in an even, silky drawl. His deep sensual drawl reverberated throughout her, and she felt it consume and control her as her body responded to his demand.

Her mind screamed and tried to fight the motion of her body as she turned and stepped into Snape's open arms, catching in that brief moment the look of shocked disbelief on Ron's and Fred's faces, the stunned, indignant look on Lupin's, and the rage in Harry's eyes. "Embrace me," he said with is cheek next to her ear, and she complied, laying her head on his shoulder in defeat. He chuckled softly, seductively, and Disapparated her away.

Back at the house, Snape guided Hermione through the back entry and into his potions room where Draco was putting away supplies. Draco turned and regarded his mentor and guardian speculatively as they entered. "Any problems?" he asked.

"Your mother wanted to shop at Ater Décor, and we ran into Potter and friends," Snape said, tossing his cloak on the desk. "Hermione, remove your cloak and robe." Unable to fight his demand under the curse, she complied. Draco turned to fully face her, his arms crossed and his face unreadable. Numbly, she let the cloak fall and then drew the robe over her head, handing it to Snape. "Let it fall," he demanded, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed. Numbly she opened her hand. When her robe hit the floor Snape stood up and looked at the two of them, his face expressionless.

Hermione stood immobile in her black, silky night-slip and soft boots. The calm and lightheadedness of the curse clouded her mind, yet she fumed in embarrassment beneath the feeling of vague happiness. Snape walked over to her, looked her in the eye, then slowly walked around behind her.

Standing right behind her, Snape looked over at Draco. "What happened is not to happen again, Draco," he said with a commanding tone as he moved away a step, standing very close beside Hermione, his hand sliding across the small of her back, then falling to his side. Draco leaned against the worktable, watching them, defiance and curiosity evident in his expression. "If I leave her in your charge, you are to watch her. You are not to leave her alone. Am I clear?"

Draco visibly bristled, but to his credit he managed to keep his expression neutral. "Yes, sir."

Hermione looked at Snape, her eyes following his movement as he pulled the package and bag from his pocket. "You know what this is for, Draco," he said, tossing the box to him. "Get started." Draco nodded and began to collect ingredients from the storeroom shelves. "Miss Granger, you will not ask questions today; you will observe," Snape said softly, leaning close to her, his voice low and silky. She felt the Imperius Curse lift from her, although she never heard him utter the countercurse.

Hermione stood frozen, waiting, and unsure of exactly what Snape intended. He moved to stand in front of her, glaring. "You did very well today, Miss Granger, although you surprised me... You nearly resisted – fought it... Did you think I wouldn't know?" he asked softly, adamantly. "Don't do that again." She simply shook her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. Snape stepped away from her. "From now on you are not to wander this house unattended by either myself or Draco. Is that clear, Miss Granger?"

Her body was still rigid, more from fear and uncertainty, her mind belatedly comprehending what he'd just told her. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, sir."

"You have a choice today," Snape stated. "You can either sit in your chair quietly or you can work at the drain board preparing Draco's ingredients. Which is it to be?"

She swept her gaze to the sink at the bowls of grubs, beetles, leeches, plubberins and water-rush pods, weighing the displeasure of the slimy work to sitting in the stiff wooden chair behind her. Stand or sit... neither will be comfortable... "I think I'd rather do something productive, sir," she replied. And serve out your detention...

"Then get to it," he said with smirk. "I will be watching you and checking your progress. I expect proficiency from you." She walked over to the drain board, and Snape handed her a pair of knives. "Don't even think about it," he purred menacingly.

She looked up at him straight in the eye. "I would hardly consider either a shucking blade or paring knife as an effective weapon against two wizards with wands, sir," she said, glaring at him. "Even if I was able to throw them with any level of accuracy, a flick of your wand and they'd miss their mark."

"No, you would not have developed that particular skill, would you?" he asked, walking away, laughing at her. She shivered, wondering if he had learned to throw knives and not surprised if he had.

Hermione had just finished shucking the water-rush pods and setting them next to the gutted grubs when Snape once again walked over to check her progress. "Pay attention, watch and learn," he said, barely audible, then raised his voice slightly. "Come over to the work table. You may assist Draco in finishing his potion." She looked up at him, catching a barely discernable nod, and followed him.

He guided her to stand between them, and Draco pointed to some globe thistle seeds. "You can grind these up, Granger. I need them next." Hermione picked up the stone mortar and pestle, her eyes catching the snakeskin pieces in the open box. "Any day, Granger," Draco said, pulling her transfixed contemplation regarding the significance of the shed skin.

Her mind raced over the ingredients she had prepared and the ones still visible in front of Draco on the worktable as she ground the seeds, trying to piece together their connection with what looked like the shed skin of a very large snake. Possibly from Voldemort's snake – perhaps? Certainly not all of the skin – if that did come from his snake. Both Harry and Mr. Weasley said his snake was huge. Big enough to swallow a man. From where she stood, she could not see the potion directions on the card lying on Draco's left.

A jar of a clear, limpid fluid of a pale, greenish-straw color sat next to Snape, and Hermione watched as he measured out a small amount, careful to avoid touching the liquid and set the jar back down. A smirk crossed his features briefly, noticing her attention of his actions, before he returned his attention to his own potion.

"Any day now, Granger," Draco snapped. Hermione handed Draco the mortar and watched him carefully introduce the ground seeds as he stirred the potion.

"Take the knife, Miss Granger, and separate the scales from the skin," Snape instructed, showing her briefly how, then handing her a piece of the skin and the small knife. "Do not damage the scales." Hermione gently scrapped the scales from the proffered skin and waited. Both Snape and Draco measured out portions and layered them in their potions. Draco's potion turned a smoky grey and Snape's a greenish-sliver. Snape lowered his fire and walked to his desk, pulling a book from the drawer, and began writing notes.

"Granger, are you going to assist me or not?" Draco said, thrusting another dish with hairy lupine leaves and a pair of gloves at her.

The afternoon went quickly. Snape sat at his desk, rising occasionally to check Draco's progress, and giving him quiet nods of approval or instructions and suggestions on techniques. As Draco moved the cauldron to the cooling rack, Snape rose again to check the potion. "Well done, Draco. Wash up, Miss Granger," he demanded. "It's time to eat."

Hermione bristled, but she and Draco hurriedly washed their hands and left the potions lab for the kitchen.

Without Wormtail, dinner was a much more relaxed affair. Snape and Draco conversed easily about the interactions of potion ingredients and the subtle differences that seasonal and lunar influences made both in brewing potions and in the collection of ingredients. It was more like listening to Snape lecture Draco, although much more in-depth than his lectures had been in class. Hermione sat fascinated while listening to him, taking in his every word. It dawned on her just how vast Snape's knowledge was in the area of potions, organic and inorganic ingredients, and herbology, and just how much she could learn from him.

It dawned on her as she climbed into bed just how jealous she was of Draco, that he'd been given the privilege to be apprenticed to this man lying beside her, gaining all that skill and knowledge she knew Snape possessed.

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