Just Like I’m Sinking

A/N: Thanks to my beta, MadBrilliant! Please review, I love reviews!

***

Hermione worked hard with the prisoners during the next two months. She checked each prisoner personally every week for lice, dysentery, and other illnesses that could cause epidemics. The first thing that caught her attention was the nervousness that each prisoner exhibited. Since each and every examination had to take place in the presence of an Auror, any questions she asked about their care were stunted. Questions such as, "Have you enough to eat?" "Are you warm enough at night?" "Do you require a new toothbrush?" "How are you being treated by your Auror-in-charge?" It was a joke! Each question she asked got a shifty glance towards the Auror and then a hearty, happy remark from the prisoner that he was doing fine in need of nothing. Hermione was beginning to feel her work was manipulated in some fashion. Her service towards the prisoners seemed basic and rushed. She was to help the hurting, but the hurting seemed to be too afraid to tell her the truth of how desperate their plight was!

Still, due to her age and prettiness, there was one area that caused a lot of trouble for the prisoners and Hermione felt responsible. The men were, for the most part, far too afraid of the Aurors to make any overtures to her or show how her presence affected them. Yet, there were still some who did; their desperation for female attention caused many an embarrassing moment where just being in her presence would cause them to become aroused. The Aurors forgave those who showed their humiliation and apologized, and no was punishment given. Some, though, were just either too touched in the head, or were not broken enough to keep their wits or manners about them. Mackenerney was one of those whose overtures were unbelievable. He literally one day exposed himself and began to fondle his privates in front of her. She sat frozen in disbelief and horror at the display in front of her. Auror Banes had been distracted, talking with another Auror when he heard Hermione cry out in disgust. He reacted swiftly, grabbing the prisoner by the scruff of his collar and threw him out of the infirmary. Mackenerney was soundly thrashed, and although she did not witness the beating, she heard it all from her seat in the infirmary...every crack of the leather strap on flesh and the screams that seemed to never end. Hermione was told later that he was sent back to Azkaban.

***

Auror Banes was a force to be reckoned with. He was by no means the oldest Auror, nor did he have the most seniority. That title belonged to Dawlish, but the man's kindly nature was not conducive to being a leader. So, Auror Proudfoot was the Senior Auror in charge on the site. Proudfoot had his own unique way of dealing with his staff and the prisoners: he didn't want to hear bad news. He didn't want to hear complaining. If he got bad news, the prisoner went back to Azkaban. He just didn't want the trouble. Proudfoot did give the prisoners a schedule that kept them busy enough, which in Hermione's estimation was a good idea. To keep the prisoners' minds occupied with routine and scheduling would keep tempers in check and maintain discipline. He was an excellent administrator, but lousy at building morale and maintaining control over his men. So the Aurors were a law unto themselves and were given free reign. They treated their charges as they saw fit, and if that included a sound thrashing every once in a while, so be it. Banes, being the very large and most physically intimidating Auror on site, rose in the ranks as the right-hand man of Proudfoot. As long as Proudfoot didn't hear complaints, everything went along fine. And Banes made sure everything was fine. Punishments were meted out with the attendance of all prisoners, as an incentive to be "good." Whippings were commonplace, and if the infraction was bad enough, after the thrashing, they were still shipped off to Azkaban. It made quite the impression on the inmates. So no one was about to complain with the threat of prison hanging over his head.

This was the world Hermione had stepped into, and she, being the quick study she was, soon learned the warped politics of the PWR. What had started an opportunity for some prisoners that the Ministry knew were not criminals to experience a lighter load than their fellow prisoners in Azkaban, turned out to be nothing more than exploitation of the worst kind. Every week conditions became worse. The Aurors were not merely guards; they were also perpetrators of various tortures. Hermione was no fool...she knew torture when she saw it. Aside from the public whippings, she started to notice mysterious markings. Burns, curious bruises, and gashes that were very suspicious...and it was getting worse. Then to complete the hopelessness of the situation, fall officially had arrived. The temperature at night was dipping precariously low. Hermione worried fiercely over the health of the prisoners. Since she had arrived two months before, ten men had been sent back to Azkaban. If they could not work, they could not stay in the program. When they left, no new men came to replace them. The ones left behind had to pick up any slack so the work did not suffer. After one month, Hermione was just about at her limit. She refused to stand idly by and allow this barbarism to continue!

She approached Madam Pomfrey about the injuries she was seeing. Pomfrey pursed her lips and went about her paperwork. Hermione set her jaw and crossed her arms. She would not be dismissed!

"Madam Pomfrey, I demand that you answer me! What are we to do about these attacks?"

"Attacks!" she laughed. "My word, you do have a dramatic streak in you. You always did, Miss Granger. I don't see anything in this infirmary that is out of the ordinary."

She turned her head down back to her paperwork. Hermione slammed her hand on top of the papers, interrupting the Mediwitch's work.

"Madam Pomfrey, I am not stupid! I know abuse when I see it, and you've not been around enough I've noticed to give a proper assessment of any patient's condition! Why are you so set on covering up the Aurors' brutality?"

Madam Pomfrey looked up at Hermione with a fierce coldness that sent shivers down the young woman's back. She stood and faced her, her rage and anger written all over her face.

"I do not appreciate your accusations! My business is just that...MINE! I have more important things to do than stay here in this canvas joke of an infirmary and listen to the whines and bellyaches of prisoners who should not even be here in the first place! But I had no say in the matter. And if I want to retain my post as Mediwitch when the school reopens, I must stay and accept things as they are. At least now I have you to do the work I'm so loath to do. Now, I have already warned you, Miss Granger, and now I'm ordering you. Stop this now or I will have you tossed out!"

Hermione wanted to lash out at the bitter old cow, but she knew it would only get her kicked out. She wasn't in this position for money (it was never for money, as she was a volunteer) or honing talents (that flew out the window as soon as she first saw the wounds she had to heal and turn a blind eye to...or more to the point...be complicit in covering up Auror prisoner abuse). She had to be here. Who else would be able to speak for these men when it was now so obvious they had no voice? She was determined that she would keep her eyes and ears open to see what was really going on around here. Pomfrey had so much to do outside of the infirmary? Really now? Well then, what was it?

Anytime Madam Pomfrey stepped out, or when she knew she'd left for the night, Hermione ransacked her desk and looked at her paperwork. It was a good thing she loved Arithmancy! She made quick work of the figures. She looked at the invoices for the clothing, food, and potions/medicinal allotments. She snorted at the figures. This did not add up! These prisoners had not seen a scrap of new winter clothing since the fall when they were given coats. The figures went on and on for replacement shoes, gloves, scarves, hats, socks, shirts, pants, etc.

The food invoices were much worse shape. For two months now, the food allotments had become substantially smaller and poorer in quality. Hermione had not seen a prisoner with a vegetable in three weeks. Yet there it was cataloged. What was happening to the clothes and food?

She looked around the infirmary. There were a couple of patients, but they were asleep. The Auror on guard was outside. She took her wand and went to the large store cabinet where, supposedly, clothing, bandages, medical supplies were kept and cataloged. She snorted at the ease with which she broke through the simple wards set up. It was in complete disarray. She went back to the desk and snatched the papers. She nervously glanced around to make sure no one was coming, and she did a fast inventory. It was enough. It was apparent that there was graft occurring on this site! What was she going to do? She had no authority to check the kitchens in order to see if the same problem existed there, but Hermione was a logical person. She knew the vile food the men had been eating lately. And it was even more apparent by the increased cases of dysentery that was coming into the infirmary.

She looked at the medicines list. Merlin! This was outrageous! Hermione had taken over making the potions, since Pomfrey hated doing it, but the potions Hermione brewed were only the most common and basic. She had fretted over not having a larger selection of ingredients in order to make more complex potions that could be more effective in the healing process. She had cursed the Ministry in her heart for their cruelty and insensitivity. Now, she knew the truth!

Over the next days, Hermione watched and carefully made innocent inquiries about the overall Reconstruction Program. It was best not to ask about specifics. She asked how materials needed were delivered. She was sure to talk to people like Hagrid, who would slip and say more than they meant to and would inadvertently give over the answers she truly was seeking without them being any the wiser. So she discovered that all the clothing, food goods, bandages, ingredients and potions already pre-made for the Prisoner Work Release Program were delivered to Hogsmeade, but for some reason, never managed to fully find its way here! Hermione was so angry she could barely see straight. What was she going to do? This was potentially dangerous, not to mention illegal! She didn't know how far up the corruption went. Surely Minister Shacklebolt wouldn't be in on it! But anyone else was up for grabs as far as she was concerned!

***

Dawlish brought in Professor Snape one morning. It was apparent he had been beaten...badly. After she got him settled in a cot, she whirled around on Dawlish and demanded to know exactly what had happened.

Dawlish was very reluctant to explain. "Look, miss, its not so simple! Some o' the lads like a bit o' sport. Things get out of order sometimes. I try to do what I can, but it ain't easy being one dissenter out of the whole bunch!"

"Dawlish," she threatened. "You tell me now!" She bent over her patient and did a diagnostic scan with her wand to ascertain the extent of the damage.

He took a breath and said, "'E was the sport last night. Snape 'as a very bad reputation 'mongst us Aurors. 'E wasn't the most polite person o'er the years...'e made lots o' enemies. Barnes, Bedford, and some o' the other younger lads took turns beatin' on 'em all night."

"As if Barnes or Bedford or any of these younger 'lads' ever really knew Professor Snape!" she bit out sarcastically. She made quick work of tearing off the rest of his threadbare shirt to expose his chest. She continued to rail at Dawlish. "This man was risking his life for the whole of the Wizarding world when most of those 'lads' were just learning to walk!" she huffed.

She was incensed! She grabbed her wand and started to probe deeper into certain areas where there seemed to be the most damage. He was a filthy mess. He had broken ribs, burns on his stomach, a broken cheekbone, and massive facial injuries from repeated blows. His hands had been broken in several places, as if they had been stomped on. Also, as if that weren't enough, he had been urinated and defecated on.

She burst into tears and yelled at Dawlish. "He could have died! How could you let them abuse him like this! What else did they do...I don't want to discover without being prepared...did they...?"

Dawlish stepped back and a look of horror crossed his face. "No, Miss Granger, nothin' like that! They just thrashed 'em real bad. I'm sorry; things are jus' not like t'was. I su'pose I'm too tired from decades o' war. I don't got wha' it takes ennymore. I know I should 'ave stopped 'em, but it's politics, miss!" He looked pitiful and ashamed.

"Well, where were Savage, Proudfoot, and Williamson? Surely they all didn't approve!" she demanded.

"Ah, well, miss, you see, there's only the small band of us, an' we ain't all together. 'Ere's a lot of men to look after, you see, and we try our best to look out...well, for the younger lads, who's only fault was havin' fathers as Death Eaters and such. Now, Snape, e's no innocent bystander! Oh, no! e's not a priority, iffin' you get my meanin', miss. One must pick one's battles, eh?"

"Quite," Hermione replied stiffly with cold eyes. The sight of the Auror sickened her. She watched as he shuffled his feet ashamedly and bowed his head. It was clear he didn't like what he was a part of, but Hermione could not summon the feeling to sympathize with him. She decided she had her hands full with taking care of Snape's wounds that needed immediate attention than deal with Dawlish's pain that ran deeper and unseen, but not life threatening.

It took her a very long time to heal and clean him. Dawlish came and went during the next few days. Madam Pomfrey left Snape alone with Hermione to be dealt with. He slipped in and out of consciousness. Hermione was disgusted with the apathy that seemed to choke the hope out of everything. But she would be damned it if she were going to let it happen to her!

After a week, Snape was well enough for a proper bath. He was loath for her to tend to him, but she stood her ground. Snape was petrified. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him become aroused, and he knew if she started touching and washing him he would.

"For the love of Merlin, woman, I am perfectly capable of washing myself!" he snarled.

"Professor Snape, you have had multiple broken bones! I need for you to allow enough time to pass before you start exerting your body and risk doing damage to what is already delicate!"

"NO!" he thundered.

"Professor...please!" she yelled back sharply.

"DO. NOT. CALL. ME. THAT!" he roared.

Dawlish and Pomfrey dashed into the curtained off area where the bathtub was and saw a partially naked Snape standing in the tub faced off with an irate Hermione who stood solidly with her hands on her hips. She didn't back off for a second. With her eyes fixed on the surly man, she told the both of them to get out, and she would deal with the prisoner. Pomfrey shrugged and left while Dawlish hemmed and hawed about it.

"Get out, Dawlish!" Hermione threatened as she stared down Snape, which was difficult because he was much taller than she. If it weren't such a serious situation, it would have been hilarious to watch this woman bully a man who towered over her and could toss her aside like a rag doll if he were so inclined.

Dawlish finally left them alone, and they resumed their standoff.

Hermione took out her wand and said, "Do not make me place Imperio on you, Severus! I understand this is humiliating for you, but I shall make necessary arrangements for you to have some privacy from my eyes."

"Afraid seeing my manhood will make your eyes disintegrate?" he said sarcastically.

She blushed furiously. "Of course not! I-I just believe every person deserves the right to some pride. I wouldn't want to be exposed against my will if our roles were reversed."

The thought of him washing a naked Hermione made his worst fear come true. He started to feel himself respond to her verbal picture as he sat in the tub with a towel covering his growing erection. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with one hand, not believing the situation with which he found himself.

He looked away from her as she washed his hair and worked her way down. He was so grateful for the towel. Just her touch was making him rock hard. By the time she reached his legs, there was no hiding his erection. She bit her lip and continued, but worked faster, as so to end the torment he must be feeling. He was not looking at her, but she could see the color flushed on his cheeks. He was humiliated, and she felt bad for him, but nonetheless, she was finding herself very aroused by his arousal. It was impossible not to notice the huge tenting from underneath the towel. He tried to cover it with his hand, but he only managed to hurt himself. He winced, and she gasped. He is at full attention! she thought. He turned and glared at her when she gasped and caught her looking at his erection. She knew she was blushing, and her breathing was getting shallow. He glared at her fearsomely. She rose weakly and said with a shaking voice, "I'll be right outside. Y-you let me know when you are ready for me to help you back to your bed."

"Am I that disgusting and wretched to you, Miss Granger?" he spat out at her.

She knew his ego was on the line, and he was completely humiliated, so she decided to allow herself to be humiliated with him. After all, it's only honest. I'm aroused. It's just not as obvious with women as with men.

She turned her head to her side and glanced at him. "Severus, I have to leave or I may do something foolish," she whispered, her voice still shaking.

"Like?" His silky voice carried to her like a caress.

She turned around and opened her mouth to say something, but instead, without thinking, she walked quickly to him, bent over, and kissed him shyly on the mouth. She went to withdraw slowly, and a hand clamped around her head, and he forced his tongue past her lips. Hermione sank down on to the floor next the tub and gave herself over to his demanding mouth. She placed one hand on the forearm of the hand holding her head. Her other hand grasped the edge of the bath as he passionately delved into her mouth. She was aware of something happening, but her head was roaring. Suddenly, he gasped 'Hermione' in her mouth. She felt her body tingle all over and felt slick between her thighs. He released his grip but not his hand from her. They sat shaking, mouths open, their foreheads touching. Her hair was coming undone from where he'd grabbed her. It seemed ages before they both calmed their breathing to normal. Hermione closed her eyes as they breathed in each other's breath. Finally, she broke away from him and hurriedly tried to re-pin her hair while murmuring, "I'm sorry if I took advantage." Then she left him alone.

She stood outside the curtain shocked and excited at the same time. She couldn't believe what had just occurred, but she had kissed him. He was aroused...and he...he... It was unbelievable! She should feel humiliated and disgusted, but she didn't. She felt she had helped him, given him relief. She slid her arms around her, accidentally grazing her nipples in the process. She noticed her nipples were so hard; they were painful to the touch.

Snape couldn't believe what had happened. He was horrified at his display of passion. He couldn't believe he masturbated in front of her! Yet, he was thrilled about her response. At least she hadn't screamed. She seemed excited during his climax. She was panting and had allowed his forehead to rest against hers. Still, he had acted so insanely! He hadn't thought; he'd just reacted. He had to apologize to her for his gross inappropriateness!

He came out, dressed in his clean prisoner uniform, and Hermione helped him back into his cot and pulled the blanket over him. His face was so very sad. He grabbed her wrist and her eyes found his. They were sparkling and bright. She wasn't angry or repulsed. He couldn't believe his good fortune at his beautiful Hermione, so full of grace. "Hermione, thank you," he murmured, his voice like silk.

"Sleep now," she whispered. He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb and closed his eyes.

She sat and watched him sleep after she told Dawlish to go ahead and leave. He was so pale and exhausted. She was terrified of the feelings he awoke in her. What had happened? What was this strange turn in life, that she should be here, sitting by his sick bed, feeling there was no place on earth she'd rather be? She felt so much guilt. She should feel nothing; after all, Ron was dead. Yet, this man was making her want to live, really live...again...

***

After Snape was healed sufficiently and sent back to the prisoner's sector, she decided to launch her own private crusade. She was determined to start with the one man who would in all likelihood refuse her help: Professor Snape. He spent the last three days of his stay shy and withdrawn. Hermione knew he was a very private man and also an honorable one. What had occurred in the bath was a very private and personal act. She was sure he was feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

Snape was ashamed, but not embarrassed. It was the most erotic and satisfying act he had experienced in years. He just felt as if he'd taken advantage and didn't want her to think he was like the others who had no brains, but just randy animals with no self-control. He cared deeply for Hermione, wanted to be with her properly, not just use her so he could get off. He was positive that was how she'd come to view it when the excitement wore off. Then she would be angry, humiliated, perhaps cry, and then he'd be back in Azkaban. He didn't want to be around for that shoe to drop! He decided to keep his distance emotionally. He couldn't avoid her physically, but he could build a mental and emotional wall better than anybody. So, he kept to himself and refused even to look at her. He certainly did not need a repeat performance!

His aloofness was not unnoticed, and she felt very sad for the professor. But, she couldn't allow his issues to stand in the way of her plan of action! Since Dawlish had proved himself too inept and weak to stand up for others, she made a deal with Auror Carson (who was sympathetic to the prisoners' plight) to come and bring Severus round every other day so she could "check-up" on his health. Actually, she was smuggling him food and giving him extra potions to boost his energy and keep him healthy.

The first time he came he was very suspicious and cautious around her. He still was afraid she would have him carted off to Azkaban. Carson stood guard at the door after removing the Charm and let them alone. Hermione handed him a small bundle and held his hands in her own as she gave it to him.

"What is this?" he demanded.

"Food. You need your strength, Professor."

"Damn it girl, I am no professor! What is all this? Pity? Do you find me weak and incapable of survival?" he snarled quietly.

"Don't be absurd!" she snapped. "I am not blind as to what is occurring around here. You do recall you spent the better part of a fortnight here, don't you? Now you will come here, and I will get you some extra food, and I also want you to take these potions." She handed him two phials. He immediately knew what they were, but was suspicious.

"Who was the Potion maker?" he demanded.

Hermione sighed. "I have taken over the task of making the necessary potions needed for the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey does not like to make potions, and I daresay, I am more than competent to brew even for you, Professor."

"I don't want you calling me that, Miss Granger," he said sadly with no bite in his voice at all.

Hermione glanced at Carson. He was still facing away. She stepped closer to Snape and placed her hand on his chest. She noticed he was surprised by her closeness and perhaps...was that fear in his eyes? She gathered all her courage.

"Please, Severus, take the food and the potions. I can't bear the thought of you suffering. I care about you so much. I don't know why. You were a horrid man to me for years, but I have always known you are also a very special man. Let me take care of you, please." Her eyes were full of tears as she leaned into him. She wanted to embrace him and comfort him. She wanted to take him away from all this and give him his dignity back, but it was impossible. Some things must be borne. But, perhaps, they needn't be borne alone. She couldn't do everything he needed, but she could do this.

His face relaxed, and he reached up and placed a hand on her cheek and caressed it. Hermione closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. He wanted nothing more than to gently kiss her and slowly make love to her. The wanting to live part of him was overcoming the need to run. He mused how could it be that he, of all men, should find such a woman, so full of grace and forgiveness?

Carson interrupted their silence by clearing his throat, and Snape hurriedly drank his potions. He agreed to come dutifully every other day. Hermione smiled, knowing she would be keeping him safe.

As he left, he stopped at the entrance and said, "I am very sorry about the death of Mr. Weasley. Your loss must be great."

Hermione swallowed and gave him a nod. Her throat somehow would not allow her to speak. He walked out and she turned around, covering her mouth, silently weeping alone in the infirmary.

***

When fall was in full swing, the first frost arrived, and the construction on the castle still was not complete. The Ministry was loath to send the prisoners back to Azkaban when so much work needed to be done. The Aurors still expected the prisoners to work as hard as they did in the summertime, but the windy, rainy, Scottish weather was wearing them thin. Shoes that were worn out were now stuffed with cloth to protect their feet. Each prisoner received a coat, but no gloves or hats to truly warm them.

Hermione watched from her tent as the poor men struggled with their labors. It infuriated her to no end. All of what they did could be done with magic in a scat! But, the part of their "rehabilitation" was to work hard. This place, Hogwarts, was becoming a place she didn't know anymore. It reminded her more and more of another place she had read about: Auschwitz. The Nazis had their own motto too: "Arbeit macht Frei," meaning, "Work makes you free." How eerily similar it all was. Then she remembered Grindelwald's political prison. The motto there was "For the Greater Good." Was this what this was? For "the greater good?"

Severus came every other day like clockwork. Hermione watched as he wolfed down the food like the starving man he was. She noticed the disgusted look on Auror Carson's face as he watched the man eat without any grace or manners. She was livid.

"Oi!" she barked at him. "Don't you dare stand and judge him. It's because of your people that this wizard is reduced to this!"

Carson lowered his head in shame. Hermione sized him up. Finally she said, "You left Hogwarts just before I started. What house were you in?"

"Ravenclaw," he muttered.

"You, evil...no, I can't believe this." She pointed at Severus and continued to rail at Auror Carson. "This man was your professor. You know how brilliant he is, you know how talented, regardless of his attitude and anti-social behavior, this man taught you and played a role in you becoming an Auror. He should be up in that castle brewing potions instead of living in this rubbish tip! You should be ashamed of yourself for your reproachful thoughts and attitude!"

She turned her back on him and focused on Severus. She wished she could give him more food, better tasting food, but bland was better. His stomach might reject anything rich or with too much fat. He took his potions and said, "Thank you, Hermione. Despite what people believe, I am capable of showing gratitude."

Hermione glanced at Carson, who had his back to them. "Well, let's get a look at your teeth then. I'm going to give you a thorough going-over!" she announced.

Snape watched as she touched him. It wasn't sexual at all, only clinical, but she was the beautiful Hermione, who wanted to fight for him and defend him. It was impossible for him not to be aroused by her touch. It was so unconditional. He had been so cruel to her as her teacher, and now he had nothing to offer. Yet, he mattered to her. She favored him over the other prisoners. She looked at him with such tenderness, it was as if spring had already come into his heart and soul, and hope was flourishing inside.

She finished her examination and watched him button his shirt. She stood there and watched him, as if she couldn't look away. He tentatively lowered his head, and she wrapped her hands around his arms. He kissed her forehead and caressed her cheek with his thumb. She grasped onto his forearms, not wanting the contact to end, but it had to.