The Rat Returns

~o0o~

Severus woke up again with an arm lying along his, her hand on his shoulder right next to her face, and one of her legs curled around his, yet again, with his penis stiff and erect. He'd had little sleep with Hermione tossing and moaning in her sleep, and he strongly considered making her take sleeping potions before bedtime each night. At least this time he hadn't been pushed to the edge of the bed.

Sighing, he shifted her arm off him and, with a nonverbal spell and a wave his hand, dislodged her leg, rolling Hermione onto her back. He noticed that she still managed to take up over half of the huge bed. This is why I don't have women stay overnight, he reminded himself. Why do they always require the entire bed?

He sat up a bit and propped himself up on his elbow to look at her. She's Potter's friend, Weasley's girl... one of Dumbledore's golden trio... touted by my ex-colleagues to be the brightest witch of her age. I'm the greasy git, the bat of the dungeons. I'm a Death Eater, a traitor, and a killer – among many other things... surely she knows this... So, what could Miss Granger be thinking choosing me? Or has she chosen me at all? Was the choice really from a Plight-Pairing Charm or a Dark Arts Betrothal Spell?

His mind wandered back to his school years and the only other girl he'd ever considered marrying. Lily. Ever since Lily refused me for Potter – threw US away, I've done things... in retaliation – in anger – the need to belong – to be someone... Her death made me realize how far I'd fallen. Only Dumbledore said it wasn't too late for me redeem myself... and I killed him, too... The only wizard to truly accept and trust me – and I was forced to kill him..." His eyes refocused on Hermione's face. And she knows I killed him – although, not why. Yet, here she is – in my bed...

Just as she did the morning before, Hermione stirred again, rolling toward him in her sleep, seeking him out unconsciously. The subtle unconscious act made her night-slip shift, exposing one breast, and his penis twitched, stiffening even more, which surprised as much as unsettled him. Damn if I don't want to have sex with you, he thought as he looked at her. I can just imagine your reaction if I even tried to seduce you. Nevertheless, that is exactly what the Dark Lord wants of me... to seduce you. In addition, his thoughts on that warred between his desire to have sex with the girl and the fact that she was his student. Still will be when I return to Hogwarts. Although technically I will not be teaching her in classes, as Headmaster she will be my responsibility. Headmaster – Dumbledore had been correct. 'With my demise, Severus, if the Dark Lord takes over the school, he will appoint the Carrows on the staff. I want you here, Severus, to protect the students anyway you can...' The old fool knew, foresaw this. He'd be furious about this situation with Miss Granger.

So, now I have to seduce you. He picked up an errant curl off Hermione's cheek, wrapping the strand around his finger. But can I make you interested in me? If that is what you wrote... 'Show me my heart's desire...' Since when? She never displayed any of those silly schoolgirl infatuations toward me. I witnessed plenty of that nonsense over the years. But her heart's desire – me? Preposterous. Her soul mate – possibly, that is destiny... I wonder if she had written the sentences separately would I still have been identified as her heart's desire, or am I simply her soul mate? The two are not necessarily exclusively conclusive. He exhaled and softly snorted in derision. Still she unconsciously rolls to me in her sleep... like a lover. He looked up across the room, and his eyes settled on the window.

The curtains were parted again, although he was certain he had closed them last night. He stared in disbelief at the window exposed by the wide gap in the curtains. He was certain that she didn't get up in the middle of the night to open the bloody curtains, so apparently he hadn't closed them as he'd thought. Peren was under strict orders not to, so that ruled out the house-elf. Through the glass, he could discern the pale blush of peach in the sky that was already giving way to soft, pale blue. The sun would be just below the horizon somewhere off beyond the mill town just about to rise. He stared down at Hermione, watching her sleep, and his thoughts wandered.

This wasn't the first time this girl had affected him like this or this much. He had been very aware of her since her first year when she'd logically solved his potions barrier to the Philosopher's Stone and her second year when she'd brewed the Polyjuice Potion, and subsequently, she held his interest ever since. The potion was brewed well enough, nearly perfectly – except for the use of the cat hair. That had been amusing, although with the potion made so well, hardly difficult to correct. Her mistake could've been permanent if the potion hadn't been brewed correctly, or even fatal. Still... the cauldron of Polyjuice Potion in the girls' loo was perfect. He'd actually felt the first stirrings of attraction the night of the Yule Ball when she'd had the audacity to ask him for a dance. Rolanda had asked her partner, that Quidditch player Krum, for a dance, and as I'd been conversing with Rolanda at the time, she asked me. I'd acquiesced simply to see if she actually desired to dance with me or had asked simply out of politeness – and I have to admit it was enjoyable making her blush the entire time.

She hasn't even finished school yet! What he refused to admit then, dismissing even the vaguest notion of his attraction due to his status as her professor, was apparent ever since having the girl in his bed each night. She affected him, physically and mentally. He hated admitting it. Damn. She's just a young woman – only seventeen at best, and if I were still teaching – my student. I can't believe I'm being forced into a relationship with a student – seducing a student!

Hermione moaned again, a deep-throated, sultry sound, and she turned her face up to his. If I just leaned down, I could kiss her awake, he thought with a wry grin. Now that would give her quite a shock, wouldn't it? Miss Know-It-All – professors' pet, awoken by the evil Death Eater as he took advantage of her precarious predicament with a lover's kiss. He gently laid the curl away from her face and couldn't help it as his gaze roamed down to her chest, watching it rise and fall with each breath she took. And the Dark Lord expects me to bind her with a hand fasting... and I will be forced to have sex with her – coerce her into having sex with me... He forced his eyes back to her nose, noticing the faint dusting of freckles across the delicate skin. Damn it all to Hades. I'll be cursed by every Order member if I force her into this binding – and killed by the Dark Lord if I don't...

Severus rose and saw the large cup of coffee sitting on his bedside table. He picked it up and carried it to his wardrobe to dress. My potions will need attending to before breakfast. Might as well go down and get started...

~o0o~

Hermione had woken up alone in Snape's bed, unsure of how she managed to get into the room without him. She rose, took a warm shower, and was greeted by Peren holding her black night-slip and a cup of breakfast tea. "Miss missed breakfast, so Peren brings it to you," she said with a big smile, indicating the fresh currant scones on a plate with fresh berries and bacon that had been placed on her bedside table.

"Thank you, that's thoughtful of you," she replied as she slipped into the night-slip.

Peren smiled and made a slight 'hum' in acknowledgement. Hermione sat down on her footstool to drink her tea and ate her berries and bacon as Peren brushed her hair.

Snape appeared, looking rather angry, just as Hermione picked up her book to sit in bed and read. "Aren't you up yet? You missed breakfast," he snapped. His gaze flicked from looking at her sitting in bed, to the scone still on her plate on the bedside table, back to her. "Or are you planning on getting crumbs in my bed? Get up," he demanded, taking her arm and pulling her with him from the room. "I can't be delayed too long at this stage of my potion, Miss Granger. You'll have to forgo eating until later."

The morning in the potions lab was trying for Hermione. Standing at the sink washing cauldrons, rinsing all the herbs, and scrubbing the roots for the potions was daunting, considering that she had to try avoiding getting the silky night-slip wet. Draco glared at her when he collected the ingredients, and Snape snapped at her several times when he wanted her to bring him his ingredients, his eyes roaming quickly over her each time she brought them over to him. Even self-conscious of her half-naked state, she could hardly believe either man was looking at her in any way other than contempt.

After lunch, Snape pulled Hermione to stand between them at the work counter again. Snape thrust a bundle of lamerium stems to shred and then handed her horse chestnut seeds to grind for him, all under his watchful stare. Draco handed her a jar of mud daubers to have her remove their thorax, and then he had her press the toxin from centipedes' glands. Just as the last potion ingredient was introduced into Snape's cauldron, he suddenly made a sharp intake of breath, his right hand automatically covering his left forearm. "Miss Granger, come with me," he demanded, pulling her roughly by the arm.

"I can stay and finish this," she protested, pointing to the nearly finished potion. "There is only one st..."

"The Dark Lord has summoned me, Miss Granger... So unless you're ready to see him, I suggest you do as I say! Draco can finish it," he retorted sharply, propelling her out of the lab and up to the bedroom. "You're staying here until I return," he said, nearly throwing her into the bedroom, grabbed his Death Eater's robe and mask, and then turned and left abruptly.

Hermione bristled at his rough treatment. She sat fuming on the bed until she realized that, once again, she was alone in the room and that Snape wasn't likely to return anytime soon. Reaching under the corner of the bed, she pulled out the Galleon. Still fuming hotly at his mistreatment, she held the coin tightly between her fingers, concentrating all her pent up anger and frustration while pointing at the Galleon. If I could only make this say – I'm fine. I'm fine... I'm fine. The coin in her fingers vibrated. I'm fine... The coin vibrated again. I'm – fine, and the words 'I'm fine' appeared.

She stared at the coin in disbelief. I did it! I really did it. Imperius, he used the Imperius... The coin didn't change. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the coin in her hand, repeating, He used the Imperius.... The coin vibrated. Frustrated and angry, she repeated her tries, able to make the coin vibrate, but not change. Dragon's flame it! I did it once... Her hands shook with frustration. Work, blast it – work. He used the Imperius on me... The coin vibrated again. He used the Imperius on me, she repeated firmly, and the words 'Imperius me' appeared. She held the coin on her palm staring at the words. Anger, if I'm angry enough, or frustrated... Frightened, angry... and frustrated... or when they're scared – that's when wizard children can do accidental magic! Maybe, if I can make myself angry and frustrated enough, I can do wandless magic. She looked at the coin on her palm, hoping that someone saw it change. It vibrated several times. Harry and Ron still carry theirs, so does Neville and Luna... Fred and George have used theirs to send messages... occasionally. So has Ginny... Colin has used his to say 'hi' to Harry at least once a week... maybe, just maybe...

Hermione tried several more times to make the coin change and give Harry or Ron a real message. The best she could do was to make the coin vibrate, and once she managed 'am hosta' and 'help,' but the effort was giving her a terrible headache. Finally giving up, she tucked the Galleon back under the mattress and lay back with her eyes closed to dispel the dull ache just behind her eyes. She moaned in frustration and got up to get a cold cloth from the loo. Hermione rummaged through the vials in the loo, hoping to find a Headache Potion and groaned again in frustration since she couldn't find any. "Got bloody well everything else," she murmured and was startled by the sudden appearance of Peren.

The little elf fell over backward on her bum when Hermione jumped. "Is Miss all right? Is Miss need something?" Peren asked, getting up quickly and looking up at Hermione, worried.

"I have a headache, Peren. That's all," Hermione said, trying to reassure the elf. "I'm sorry I startled you."

"No, no, Peren startle nice Miss," Peren said, holding up her hand. Hermione found a cloth, wet it and held it up to her eyes. "Is Miss eyes hurt, too?" Hermione nodded. She heard the elf's feet patter on the floor as Peren ran from the room. Minutes later Peren came running back into the bedroom, gingerly tossing an eye-pack in her hands, which she held up to Hermione. "My mistress gets eyes ache often. She likes this for strain and ache."

Hermione took the offered gift and held it up to her nose, inhaling the warm aroma of lavender and herbs. "It is lavender and eyebright, some other herbs, too. It is to help ache," Peren explained.

"Peren, thank you," Hermione said, smelling the warm eye-pack again.

Peren shook her head at her. "No, Miss. Pardon me saying, but you is to lay down and put it on your eyes."

Hermione smiled at Peren. "Oh, silly me, of course it is. What was I thinking?" she teased the petite elf as she lay down, setting the eye-pack on her face. The warm pack of herbs was soothing, relaxing and really lifted her spirits as well as cleared her head. She could feel Peren watching her. "Peren, thank you, this is wonderful." Peren made a happy sound just before the patter of her feet told Hermione that the elf had run out of the room again.

After a long while, Hermione rolled over and picked up The Rise of Darkness, Fastosus Opinio Praeiudicata Defendo, by Myles Stanridge, off her bedside table. She placed the eye-pack on her forehead and temples so she could read.

She turned to a random chapter and began reading the accounting of Thorasin Keldar, who lived in the Dark Ages. Thorasin Keldar had been a half-blood wizard born in the medieval age. His father, Theridan Keldar, had accepted a dangerous quest to save a noble lord's daughter from her abductors. He saved the Muggle girl and then accepted her hand in marriage. When his son first exhibited magical abilities, the girl declared Theridan Keldar unnatural and a heretic to the church authorities. Thorasin Keldar had escaped persecution with his father to live like hermits in the northern region in a thatch hut where he developed a hatred for Muggles. Shortly after his sixteenth year, he gained followers but was quickly defeated.

She turned to another chapter and found another name, Brentan Reldgen, which she recognized from Professor Binns' classes. Likewise, the book stated that the father of Brentan Reldgen was a wizard of the thirteenth century, who had married a Muggle girl, whose family had turned them in as heretics and servants of Satan since all their children displayed magical abilities. Brentan Reldgen's father had faced the wrath of the Spanish Inquisition, managed to escape, but his mother and four siblings had been killed. Brentan Reldgen and his father turned toward the Dark Arts in order to defend themselves in case they were discovered and captured again. However, tired of the life he and his father had been forced into, Brentan Reldgen grew up into manhood spouting the pureblood mantra to any wizard who would listen. The fall of Brentan Reldgen and his followers was a brutal battle in the highland mountains with heavy losses on both sides.

By the time the eye-pack cooled, Peren was back with Hermione's dinner. Peren asked if Hermione wanted the eye-pack heated, which Hermione politely declined. Peren promised to heat the eye-pack anytime she wanted it and ran from the room.

After Peren brought her dinner, Hermione chose to read about two other familiar wizards, Evellette and Edvaurd Mandriver. Evellette was a Seer of sorts and moderately gifted. She predicted weather, winners of skirmishes, and made love potions and pairing troths. Her son, Edvaurd Mandriver's, account was somewhat similar to Brentan Reldgen's. Edvaurd Mandriver's father, Lord Mandriver, a Muggle, married Evellette, a beautiful young girl from a small shire on his land, whom he later discovered to be a witch. Evellette fled from her husband to protect her children, taking her son, Edvaurd, and her twin daughters, Edythe and Ethyl, into hiding. The powerful lord found Evellette and Edvaurd and tried to burn them at the stake, unsuccessfully. He locked Evellette with her twin daughters away in a turret of his tower keep and chained Edvaurd, at age thirteen, in his dungeon. Evellette bribed a guard and managed to free Edvaurd. During the escape, Evellette stayed at the gates to hold off the soldiers, allowing Edvaurd and the twin girls their freedom, but it cost Evellette her life. Later, one of Edvaurd's sisters was found, killed and quartered, making her twin go insane and kill herself.

Hermione set the book down to wipe a tear from her cheek as Peren came into the room to collect her dishes.

She was about to start reading about Myrddin Gaunt when the crash of glass and an explosion echoed from somewhere in the house. She quickly placed the book on the stack of books on her bedside table and waited. There was shouting and a loud thump, two loud crashes, and silence. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, terrified, waiting, nearly holding her breath, straining to listen. She clenched her hands and counted the thumping she felt beating in her chest.

Silence.

Her mind began to race with possibilities: Someone broke in... obviously. Death Eaters have broken into Snape's house... Someone has come to get me – or Draco... The Order has found me... No, how could they? Unless Harry or Lupin – maybe they... No, not likely. They don't know where I am – I'm certain of that. Snape is back and has been attacked... In his own home? But surely someone attacked the house...

A door slammed.

Followed by silence.

Another door slammed, and footsteps could be heard as someone ran up the stairs.

The door to Draco's room slammed closed, followed by the sound of another set of footsteps in the hall.

The door flung open with a bang, nearly tearing from the hinges.

Snape looked murderous when he entered the bedroom, struggling to peel out of his Death Eater's robes as he did so, and the expression on his face looked as if doing so was causing him great pain. He tossed the robe on the floor as he walked over to the wardrobe. With slow, obviously painful motions, he dexterously undid all the buttons on his coat and shirt, dropping the torn and bloody clothing into a pile on the floor. Hermione gasped when she saw an angry gash that cut across his chest and extended around his side to his back and the amount of blood on his pale skin. "Sir!"

"Not now, Miss Granger! I'm in no mood." He walked into the loo and turned on the shower. "Granger! Get in here now!" he yelled, when the water turned off. There was a loud thumping and some muffled words from the hall. "I told you to get in here." Timidly, Hermione approached the loo as two doors slammed in the upstairs floor of the house, one a few seconds after the other. "I think you should know that the Rat is back. However, he won't touch you again."

Hermione inhaled sharply. "Come here, I have need of you." She stepped up to him and he held out a jar. "Apply this." She nodded and removed the lid, exposing a foul-smelling, yellow ointment. Snape gave her a stick that resembled a tongue depressor with one end wrapped in cotton.

"Don't touch this to your skin. Apply this to the inside of the cut only," he directed her. He hissed at the first contact of the ointment but neither flinched nor moved as she administered the ointment carefully along the wound. As she applied the ointment along the gash, an acidic smoke wafted slightly from the contact. The skin along the cut immediately turned a dark red, and the flesh under the ointment paled to a whitish-grey. The ointment itself turned a milky, yellowish-white instantly. "Take my wand," he said when she finally set the jar down.

"Sir...?" she started to say and was cut off as he thrust the grip of his wand into her stomach.

"Take it." She wrapped her fingers around the grip and was surprised to feel the magical 'acceptance' of his wand. "Point the wand at the ointment – do not touch it or the wound, and say, Curationis Care Corporeum," he said through clenched teeth. "Repeat the incantation, Miss Granger, Curationis Care Corporeum."

"Curationis Care Corporeum," she said.

"Good, now do it. And do – not – miss," he hissed. He held his fists level with his shoulder as Hermione aimed his wand at the wound. As she said the spell, his wand vibrated slightly and felt odd – unfamiliar, but the wand emitted a sickly yellow stream of mist that turned the skin under the ointment a dark pink, and a milky white substance began to ooze out.

"Again," he said, "with more determination."

She tried again, and the mist spread across the cut, wrapped around his body and the ointment glowed and smoked.

"Don't break concentration," he said, his jaw clamped tight against the pain, and she strengthened her concentration. When the smoke cleared, an angry red welt was all that was left of the gash. He wrapped his fingers around his wand and removed it from her grasp. "Now take the salve in the other jar and smear it on me."

The salve was a familiar healing paste Madam Pomfrey used frequently at Hogwarts. After applying the salve, Hermione picked up a flannel and gingerly wiped the blood from his body. Snape stood calmly, his dark eyes watching her, his expression unreadable. He handed her a large roll of gauze, and she wrapped his torso, careful when she passed it around behind him, from one hand to the other, so that she didn't put any pressure on his newly healed wound. He reached out a hand, cupping her face gently, his dark eyes unreadable and his face expressionless. "Thank you," he said, and for a moment Hermione thought that he was about to kiss her. After several heartbeats, he dropped his hand and walked back to the bedroom.

Her mind raced as she washed her hands carefully. He... Was he about to kiss me? He was close enough... The way he held my face... No, not Snape, his expression was so... controlled. There wasn't any desire or passion in his eyes – or was there? He's so impossible to read. He would never... or would he? When she reentered the bedroom, Snape was already in bed. Hermione climbed into the bed and lay down on her half. Maybe he was considering kissing me? After several minutes of silence, she turned her head to look at him. "Thank you for trusting me," she said softly to his profile. He didn't answer or open his eyes, but his nostril flared slightly and his jaw clenched. Giving up, she rolled onto her side. Get a grip. He was simply thanking me. He doesn't like me that way. You're his hostage – it's nothing more than that. I have to get a message to Harry and Ron or figure out my own way out of this. She sighed heavily.

The next morning after her bath, Snape requested that she change his dressing again and apply more healing salve. She noticed that the applicator and foul-smelling ointment was gone. He also had her help him with his shirt, trousers and robe before he escorted her down to breakfast. Wormtail sat in his usual chair, looking smug, and Draco sat scowling over his hot porridge.

After breakfast, Snape ordered Draco and Hermione to follow him into the corridor and into the room next to the potions lab. Two large chairs sat opposite each other across the heavy wood coffee table on the rug, and two steamers and two traveling trunks were now stacked in the far corner. Snape indicated for Hermione to sit on the floor next to the coffee table while Draco reluctantly sat next to her in the chair, scowling. Hermione watched as Snape lowered himself into the chair and felt a stab of concern when he grimaced briefly in pain. Peren entered and set down parchment, ink well and quills on the table and left quickly. Snape sat in the other chair, his fingers laced together, and began lecturing on the difference between using reptile and mammal fluids in potions: urine, blood, bile, sweat, saliva and other secretions. Hermione quickly began taking notations. Snape's lesson was far more in depth than any of his Potions lessons at Hogwarts, and she tried to write down his every word.

By lunch she had pages. "Thank you, Granger," Draco said, collecting the sheets with a flick of his wand. "I appreciate the assistance."

"But..." she started to protest as Peren entered, carrying in sandwiches and soup.

"Yes, Miss Granger," Snape said coldly.

Hermione was instead trying to rise and get her pages back from Draco. "Hey, my notes – I'd like them back!"

"Knock it off, you two!" Snape snapped. Hermione immediately turned back to him as he rose, trying to mask his pain, even though she could see it in his eyes. "Eat, and then both of you join me in the potions lab when you are through," he ordered, leaving. When she turned back to Draco, the pages were gone.

Draco gave her a smug stare as he ate. "And where would you have put them, Granger?" he asked and snickered. Hermione glared back at him with her back straight and refused to answer him.

"You don't get it, do you, Granger?" Draco sneered. "You haven't figured it out yet."

"Don't have what figured out exactly?" she asked, looking at her food as she sipped her soup.

"You don't have privileges here; I do. You are a prisoner; I'm not," he scoffed at her. "I live here because I want to. I'm his apprentice."

"Draco, I don't want to fight with you," Hermione said as she ate her sandwich with small, delicate bites.

"You are only here because the Dark Lord wanted Severus to heal you, and you're still here because he has plans to use you." Draco watched her, waiting for her answer.

She listened to him, still watching him silently while she ate, giving him the impression that she chose to ignore him.

"What, no witty retort, no sarcastic comments? How pathetic... Go on. You're dying to ask me, aren't you? About the Dark Lord – what he's really like? About Dumbledore – why I did it? Aren't you?"

She carefully schooled her expression into something neutral, choosing not to rise to his taunts, and simply finished her soup while Draco bristled angrily. "Fine," he said, getting up to leave. "Have it your way."

She waited until she heard his footsteps in the hallway. Setting down her spoon, she rose and made her way into the hall toward the potions lab. Before she passed by the kitchen doorway, Wormtail stepped out into the hall, blocking her and looking at her with an intense animosity. "You told him that I hurt you, didn't you?" he asked accusingly.

Hermione looked at him, stunned, trying to control the anger she felt toward him. "I actually couldn't say much of anything. My blood was on the stairs, and the physical condition I was in was probably proof enough for him to know that something happened. Besides, I was barely conscious when Professor Snape came home that night." She tried to walk past him, but he blocked her path.

"I only tried to help you," he said angrily. "You were bleeding." Hermione turned her head, looking away from him. "I thought that you liked me."

"LIKED YOU!" she raised her voice to nearly a scream. "Are you mad? You betrayed Harry's parents. You hid like a coward as Ron's pet – keeping your friend in Azkaban, and you brought Voldemort back!" Hermione raged. "Not to mention that you – you nearly killed me!"

"You fell," he said defensively. "That wasn't my fault."

"Wormtail!" Snape yelled from the steps of the potions lab. "Leave – her – be. Miss Granger, come here." She walked toward Snape gratefully and ran down the stairs, not realizing that the wards had been lifted for her.

She quickly took her place between Draco and Snape and began to carefully peel the delicate skin off blood-tinctoria pods, then mashed the pods into pulp, releasing their blood red juice into a vial. Draco passed her soybeans, which she shucked and mashed, and then she stripped legs and outer skins off centipedes, squeezed the juices from leeches, sliced belladonna, larkspur, lantenium and digitalis roots, placing them on the worktable for him. Between ingredients, her eyes wandered to watch Snape shyly as he moved proficiently and efficiently between his two cauldrons, and as he prepared his own ingredients. More than once, she saw him scowl when he caught her staring at him or at his hands. Draco slammed a bowl of narcissus bulbs down in front of her to grate, barking at her to pay attention. She had just finished peeling and pressing the small pile of Hungarian toxin beetles when Peren announced dinner was ready.

Following dinner, Snape led Hermione up to the room to bathe. Left alone in the room, she tried to send a message to her friends with her Galleon, but was feeling far too happy at having been included in Snape's lessons and in the potion brewing, to dredge up enough anger or frustration to even get the coin to vibrate. She finally settled for reading the tales of Dark wizards in The Rise of Darkness until she felt sleepy. She was reading about Olsfrid McTavish when Snape entered the room.

He looked at the book in her hands and then at her with a cock of his eyebrow. "I need my dressing changed," he said simply. She set the book down and followed him into the loo.

Snape moved stiffly as Hermione helped him remove his robe and shirt. When she turned to the sink to retrieve the healing salve, she saw his reflection in the mirror as he kicked his underpants aside, and she spun around in disbelief. "What are you doing?" she asked as he reached for her, realizing he had turned on the water in the shower. So far, every time she'd seen him naked, it had been by taking sly peeks at him in the dim light of the bedroom when he changed at night. She had come to admire his lithe, muscled form and the easy grace of his movements as she watched him. Nevertheless, here he was standing before her in the bright, candle-lit loo in all his – um... glory.

He reached out and took hold of her wrist again, and Hermione lowered her eyes to avoid his stare, her gaze falling to the patch of dark hair that dusted his chest, along the scar lines that marred his strong chest. Her eyes traveled downward until she found herself staring at his perfectly toned abdomen, her gaze automatically traveling down the line of hair to his pubic hair... and stiffening penis. Oh, Circe – it's...

Inhaling sharply, she quickly raised her head and saw his lips twitched into a smile, but the next instant he glared at her impatiently. "Do not just stand there gaping at me, Miss Granger," Snape said, his impatience making his tone sharp.

"But – you're naked," she stammered.

"Very astute of you. You're going to assist me," he said, gripping her wrist hard. "I cannot bend easily, and I don't want my wound to reopen; so either you assist me of your own accord – or I'll put you under the Imperius Curse. Either way – you will assist me." He held his wand loosely in his fingers, the look in his eyes menacing.

"What? You cannot be serious!" she nearly screamed.

Snape yanked on her wrist, pulling her toward him. "I said that you're going to help me," he snarled.

"All right – fine," she said, relenting angrily, following him into the shower but refusing to remove her night-slip.

Snape laughed softly as the water from the two showerheads soaked them. He handed her the washcloth and soap and stood facing her. "Well, get on with it." She lathered the cloth and looked at him, unsure as to where to begin. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, girl, this isn't hard. Just wash me," he snarled. Hermione placed the cloth on the uninjured half of his chest and began to wipe him down. Snape placed both hands on the wall on either side of her as she rubbed the soapy cloth across his shoulders and down each arm.

"Your wound – do I... um, should I clean it as well?" she asked, intimidated, demurely pointing down at the space between them.

"Yes," he replied, his eyes narrowed. "Oh, just wash my legs and do that later. I do not want to stand here wasting water." Gingerly, she knelt down and began to wash his legs, first one and then the other, keeping her eyes carefully on his legs and not his groin, which was inches from her face. Snape turned around silently, leaning on the opposite wall. She re-lathered the cloth and then began wiping his buttocks and his back, trying desperately to be as impersonal about it as possible. "Bunch the cloth up and roll it across the wound. Do not rub or you will break it open again," he said over his shoulder.

She tried to do as he said, carefully dabbing at the healing laceration to wash the salve from his wound. He turned around as she worked her way to the front of his torso and chest. The healing flesh was still a dark pink, nearly red, and the skin around the wound was darkly bruised. He didn't flinch once. She paused to look at him, hoping that she was finished. "Give me that," he snarled and began to wash his groin. His penis stood out hard and firm as he washed himself. "Out."

Hermione stepped out and crossed to the sink, picking up the jar of healing salve and waited while he dried himself with his wand. "Sir, did you want me to...?" she started to ask, and he looked at her with an angry glare.

"Yes, I want you to. Was I in any way unclear, Miss Granger?" He handed her his wand again. "Contrary to what you may believe, you cannot perform healing charms on yourself – thus, I need you to do it. The proper charm this time is, Percurare Integrare. Do you think you can manage that?" he asked with an edge of indignation.

"Yes, sir," she said, feeling affronted and trying to hide it. "I will try. Please repeat the spell so that I get the words correctly."

He smirked at her. "Percurare Integrare," he said slowly and deliberately, annunciating each syllable exactly.

She took a deep breath to push the anger she felt aside and tried the words. "Percurare Integrare."

"Very good, now do it," he said firmly.

Hermione braced herself, pointed the wand at his wounds and said the incantation. The wand shimmied slightly, but the spell worked. Some of the dark pink and most of the bruising had faded, and the wound looked thinner.

"Now, the salve if you would, please," he said through clenched teeth. She gently applied the salve, slightly rubbing it in as tenderly as she could. Snape handed her a fresh roll of gauze, and once again, Hermione wrapped the dressing around his body and secured the end.

"Stand still," Snape demanded, and he quickly dried the floor and then dried her off with his wand, looking at her with an amused smirk. He then placed his hands on her arms, holding her body barely a hand span from his, his gaze deeply intent on her face.

She couldn't read his expression, but it was similar to the way he had looked at her last night. Hermione simply looked back at him, finding herself lost in his fathomless dark eyes.

"Now kiss me," he said in his rich, silky drawl.

"What?" she asked in complete disbelief. "Kiss you?"

"You heard me. I want you to kiss me," he said, still rolling each word sensually, his dark eyes boring into hers intently.

"You want to kiss me?" she squeaked, fighting back her sudden squeamishness.

"No, Miss Granger, I want you to kiss me." His eyes continued to stare intently into hers, locking her gaze, and she stared openly back at him as if in a trance.

Hermione continued to stare up at him, gobsmacked, still locked in his grip. She felt intimidated by his request. This must have something to do with taking his book without asking permission, she reasoned. A kiss is more favorable than being cursed, and I don't want to experience the Cruciatus Curse or any of the other possible curses he might know. Gingerly, she rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

"No, Miss Granger, I said for you to kiss me," he said, rolling each word smoothly and deliberately. The thick timbre of his voice confused her, and although she bristled at his statement, she leaned up to kiss his lips with a simple chaste kiss, surprised to find them soft and accepting. A rumbling laugh emanated from him. "You call that a kiss?" he asked as he leaned down and placed his mouth to hers.

His kiss was firm, and Hermione moaned in surprise and angled her head, her lips sensually following his. He gripped her shoulders hard, locking her against him, and as she opened her mouth to protest, his tongue slipped inside her mouth and sought hers. Her hands had automatically landed on his skin when he'd pulled her to him, and her arms now encircled him, her hands sliding sensually over his backside. She admired the tone and strength of his body as her hands explored. She made small flicks of her tongue, trying to match his, unintentionally drawing more from him, urging him on. His kiss became demanding and hungry, seeking satisfaction from her, and she responded to him, melding into him with a slow growing desire of her own.

She could feel his penis poking her, feeling a tiny bit of wetness just under her navel. Her hands slid over the hard, lean muscle of his back and hips as the expert assault of his kiss befuddled her senses and erased her thoughts. His hands cupped her face, and she moaned as he shifted his head to the other side, his mouth teasing her lower lip. She reached up, pressing her lips more firmly to his, her mouth opening slightly, and his tongue slid seductively between her lips, sensually teasing her mouth. She tried to mimic him with her own tongue, and he sucked her tongue into his mouth, releasing it slowly as if releasing her.

Wanting the contact back, she stretched up to kiss him again, and he kissed her back hungrily. Neither Ron nor Viktor had ever kissed her with such a passionate hunger and desire, with both a seductive tenderness mixed with a fierce demanding need. Hermione's head spun as if dizzy or floating, her body grounded only by the hard frame of his body and secure feel of his arms. His hands seemed to caress and massage her as they moved over her body, and her arms tightened around him, oblivious to his wound as she tried to pull him to her. His arms tightened in response, pressing them tightly together, and then he suddenly released her, pushing her away from his embrace.

When he set her back firmly on her feet, Hermione nearly fell against the sink, her breathing heavy and hard, her heart pounding and her head spinning as if drugged or drunk.

She completely missed the momentary look of shock on his face before he schooled his features into his indifferent mask. "Come to bed," he said softly, pulling her with him toward the bedroom. Her body shivered with a slight chill from the loss of contact with his body.

Reluctantly, she climbed into bed, her amazement turning to anger and resentment at his indifference, completely stunned by her reaction to his kiss. He pushed her to his side of the bed and lay down, pulling her to lie against his uninjured side in the middle of the bed. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, letting his body heat engulf her. "Believe me or not, but this will help save your life." She wanted to tell him off, but he held her until her body relaxed in his arms. The last thing she remembered as she drifted off to sleep was the feel of his lips on her temple and the firm but gentle caress of his hand on her arm.

~o0o~

What in the bloody hell just happened? His mind reeled in confusion at what was supposed to be a simple kiss to determine if they could possibly have any chemistry between them. Where had that passion come from? She kissed me back – she responded with such abandon... Still his own reaction confused him. His wound throbbed where her hands had rubbed against it, but his mind focused on the kiss, reenacting every moment. She's been here too long... in my bed – in my space... That's all it is – nothing more. A normal male reaction to a girl when she throws herself at him, nothing more. A normal male reaction... "Come to bed," he said to break the trance of the moment. She looked stunned, her breathing was still heavy and hard, she looked like she might swoon again, and she staggered as if she were drugged or drunk. It actually made him smile inwardly.

Hermione climbed into bed, and he watched her expression change from amazement to anger, resentment, and then disbelief as each emotion flash across her face. You still got it old man. He pushed her over to lie on his uninjured side just in case she draped herself against him in her sleep and caused him more pain than her roaming hands had just done. He pulled her into his arms in the middle of the bed. "Believe me or not, but this will help save your life," he said softly against her temple and felt her stiffen, but she didn't say any dumb remark back. Snake got the Gryffindor's tongue? He finally felt her relax in his arms. Good. Maybe tonight she won't have those damn nightmares.

He turned his head toward her, pressing his lips next to her temple. Maybe this won't be so bad after all. Her reaction to his kiss had startled him. She moaned when I stopped to tease her lip, and then when I released her, she stretched up and kissed me, wanting more. At least when I have to hand fast with her, it won't be a bloody rape. The look on her face when I released her... both times! Circe! What if this parchment – if she has cast a Plight-Pairing Charm – what will she be like if it is real and she does fall for me? What then?