Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

"Ah, Severus, thank you for finally joining us."

"I apologize for my tardiness, Headmaster." Snape took his customary seat next to Minerva. "I was handling a situation; apparently, Mr. Weasley and Miss Brown are inept a casting simple silencing charms."

McGonagall puffed up, indignant that two of her charges had been caught in flagrante delicto.

"Needless to say, fifty house points each and a week's worth of detention shall only bring Slytherin closer to the House Cup. It is a pity Gryffindors lack subtlety." Snape did enjoy goading the Transfiguration professor.

Clucking her tongue, Minerva took a bite from her blueberry scone.

"Minerva, would you be so kind as to pass the butterscotch biscuits?" Snape entreated.

"Yes, if we could all get to the matter at hand?" Dumbledore cast a reproachful look at his two heads of house.

"But of course, Headmaster." McGonagall straightened as she placed her half-eaten scone next to her teacup.

Dumbledore turned to Severus. "Certainly, Headmaster, forgive my interruption, but I thought it prudent to inform Professor McGonagall of the less than scholarly pursuits of her charges."

"I am quite certain, Severus, that Miss Parkinson's reputation, or lack thereof, is safe from the likes of Miss Brown." McGonagall tsked.

Snape snorted, wondering if Minerva knew of the pool circulating amongst the sixth- and seventh-year Slytherin and Gryffindor boys of "Shag the Slag." As of last count, Miss Brown, no pun intended, had a leg up on the matter.

Flitwick rolled his eyes. The petty squabbles between Snape and McGonagall, though usually in good humor, did grow tiresome.

Dumbledore drew in a breath. "If you two are quite finished?"

Both professors nodded.

"Umbridge and Yaxley will be on the grounds tomorrow to collect the students. Obviously, they will come and leave empty-handed. Our Muggle-born students not of age are safe for the time being. The Board still requires parental consent for the children to leave school grounds."

Dumbledore paused, taking a sip of his tea, "As you all have been informed, the students will partake in the Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw."

"What of the students who are of age? Surely, the clause of parental consent is not applicable?" Professor Sprout questioned, uneasy at the thought of four of her seven Hufflepuff students being led like lambs to the slaughter. "What of Rhodes, Haze..."

"You needn't worry, Pomona, Professor McGonagall and I have anticipated such events."

The Deputy Headmistress passed out the student rosters to the assembled staff and faculty.

"The headmaster and I, based on O.W.L. scores, have placed students within the charge of a professor in whose subject they excel."

"Charlotte Pinesworth is to organize my stores?" Poppy raised an eyebrow. "Third year, she single-handedly destroyed a month's worth of Pepper-Up potion by mis-shelving it next to the more reactive potions; the hospital wing was rancid for weeks."

"Yes, well some students could not be properly placed, but that is beside the point; the safety of our children is first and foremost."

Severus traced the singular name on his parchment. Hermione Granger. Was this some sort of joke?

"While I must agree that the safety of our student body is paramount, who saw it fit to place me with the insufferable, hand-waving, know-it-all?" The sneer the Potion master displayed was genuine.

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"Why, Severus is there a problem with Miss Granger's placement?" Minerva's smirk rivaled that of her colleague.

"Surely, you must know that Umbridge is not so daft as to not see through this ruse. Placing Miss Granger in the vile hands of the bat of the dungeons will only raise a red flag." His eyes narrowed.

"And her Head of House is all but accommodating; obviously, your foresight into this matter is severely lacking." Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index fingers, hoping to stave off the impending migraine, Snape cut his glare to the headmaster.

"You of all people, Headmaster, know the situation this puts me in."

"I do, Severus, but as you said, the safety of the students is paramount. The safety of Miss Granger is paramount to Harry."

"Potter, yes, Heaven help the wizarding world if that spoiled brat's every whim is not catered to."

"Severus, perhaps this is a matter better left to be discussed at another time?" The headmaster placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder and squeezed gently.

Aggrieved, Snape acquiesced.

"If there are no other questions or concerns?" Dumbledore appraised his staff. "Good," he nodded, "I shall see you all in the morning."

Severus waited until his colleagues filed out, leaving him alone with his employer.

"You can drop the jovial demeanor, old man."

"Severus..."

"This fucking ploy is transparent," Snape spat, spittle flying from his lips.

"Language, my boy."

Snape knew the appraising look he was receiving from the headmaster meant that his mind was made up.

"Don't," he ground out harshly. "Don't you dare lecture me on the greater good." Severus gripped the arms of his chair, knuckles white with pressure.

"You could compromise my position with this stunt. You must agree that Minerva would be better suited to the care of her own cub."

"I am well aware that Minerva as Miss Granger's Head of House is more than capable of seeing to her protection, but you must agree with me, that Delores' history with Miss Granger is spotted at best." An amused chuckle bubbled from the headmaster at the understatement.

"Inform me if you will, Headmaster, what is humorous about this situation?"

"The irony of the fox guarding the chicken coop."

"Albus, Muggle adages aside, get to the fucking point." Severus' tone was clipped, his patience frayed.

"After last year, I highly doubt Umbridge would dare to venture into the Forbidden Forest."

"Yes, yes, the incident with the Centaurs," Snape huffed, urging the headmaster to enlighten him to whatever scheme his senile mind concocted.

"Well, potions ingredients must be gathered, Severus. You should really have a care to keep your storeroom stocked." Blue eyes twinkled.

Snape sent the tea service smashing into the wall. Seething with rage, he stood toe to toe with the headmaster.

"No, perhaps it is you, Albus, who should have a care." The warning was unmistakable.

"Is that a threat?" The twinkle evaporated from the kindly blue eyes, and standing before Snape was not the benevolent, good-humored man the students had come to adore, but the pragmatic, calculating, deadly wizard who defeated Grindelwald.

"My hands are stained with the blood of innocents, I don't deny it." Dumbledore admitted.

"No, you don't, Headmaster, you merely relegate those losses as acceptable causalities, the cost of doing business during a time of war. But tell me, Headmaster, how do you sleep knowing you've ordered the deaths of men, women, and children? You who stand by idly while soldiers of light carry out your whims, in the name of the greater good?"

Dumbledore visibly flinched at the accusation.

"Tell me, Headmaster, do you know what it is like to hear the cries, the pleas, the futile requests for mercy? To feel life drain away, to taste on your lips the pungent smell of excrement as bowels release?"

The headmaster was the picture of stoic silence.

"I might be your indentured servant, but I am no longer your puppet."

"Is that all?"

Snape ground his teeth at the slight and shook his head.

"Know this, Old Man, you've set this series of events into motion, knowing that whatever He requires of me I must comply with."

"If that is all?" Albus dimissed.

"Oh, I fear, Headmaster, it is only the beginning."

Dumbledore petted the head of his familiar, who was perched upon his stand. "My friend, I fear the war has gained a liability."

The halls were empty as Snape stalked through the corridors. He wanted nothing more than to be done with his rounds, return to his quarters, and lose himself in a bottle of single malt.

Did the headmaster truly believe that his overt protection of Miss Granger would not go unnoticed by the Dark Lord? That even protected by the guise of spy, his life would be that much closer to forfeit, and Miss Granger, if lucky, would be killed outright?

His nostrils twitched, sweet pea and parchment, his ears picking up the distinct scrape of worn Mary Janes.

He continued on, taking the spiral staircase down to his chambers two at a time.

The shuffling of the intruder came to a halt, left or right. Snape watched from the shadows.

Left, steps timidly taken in the direction of his quarters.

He followed the figure obscured by the flickering light provided by the sconces.

Adrenaline spiked his system; he was a step behind, and the distance only need be bridged in a stride. He could feel the heat of the other body through his teaching frock.

A few feet separated himself from his quarters. His hand struck out, covering the interloper's mouth as Snape hauled the body against his own.

"I am not a man to be toyed with, Miss Granger." He pushed himself and his captive through the door and into his sitting room.

"And yet you continue to disregard my warnings." He spun her around to face him, hand still covering her mouth.

Her eyes wide, heart racing.

"Tell me, what is it that you seek from me?"

She looked away.

"That is not an answer, Miss Granger," He removed his hand from her mouth, but kept her in his firm grasp.

"What is it that you seek from me, Miss Granger?" His voice was low, seductive.

Hermione continued to avoid his eyes.

"Come now, you are no shrinking violet?"

He buried his nose into the riotous mane, his lips ghosting the crown of her head, down her face, a breadth away from her lips.

She made no attempt to free herself from her professor's slackened hold.

Viciously, his lips latched onto hers, teeth clinking as his tongue plowed between her lips, seeking purchase.

His grip tightened as she struggled to pull away, hands pummeling at his chest, bloody palms smearing his immaculate robes as the curse lit fire to every nerve ending in her body.

He pushed her away from him at the dampness of her tears wetting his own cheeks.

"You've gotten what you came for, Miss Granger."

Quavering, she waited for her body to calm itself.

"Bastard," she spat.

"A fact I've never denied."

"You," she took a breath, "can wipe that smug look off your face." Anger coursed through her veins, mostly aimed toward herself, and her lack of control around the dark and elusive man before her.

"Perhaps you will think twice about using me as a tool for your own self-destruction." He did not feel the slightest bit of remorse at the pain he caused; she would do well not to test his limits.

Fishing out a Percocet from the pocket of her skirt, she popped it into her mouth and let it dissolve under her tongue.

She swallowed the gritty bitterness.

"If I wanted a tool for self-destruction, sir, I'd let Ron fuck me."

"I am not a boy, Miss Granger, nor am I prone to the petty jealousies of your childish age group."

She flinched, stung by the insult.

"Deliberate cruelness is unbecoming of you, Miss Granger."

"I know you are lying."

"About what Miss Granger?"

"You care about me..."

At her proclamation, he laughed, a deep throated chuckle. "Miss Granger, so cocksure in her assumption."

Hermione squared her shoulders. "It is not an assumption, but a statement based on fact."

"And these alleged facts are?" Though his tone was light and laced with ridicule, he allowed her to continue with this game of theirs. "I have denied your advances, repeatedly stated that your infatuation is one-sided, yet you persist. Why?" Severus waited for her answer.

"Because, sir, I know you are lying."

"You've stated that already."

She crossed her arms over her chest, determined not to let his affected disinterest deter her.

"Because we both know this game we play, this dance of never ending circular motion, is our perversion on foreplay."

His jaw tightened.

"I get too close, and you push me away." As if proving her point, she stepped closer to him, gauging his reaction; she felt emboldened when he didn't move.

"We shared something this summer."

"Yes, because a handful of chats over literature is, of course, the step preceding undying love and devotion."

"Professor, using the poor man's wit again?"

He grasped her wrist, pulling her to him, closing the gap between their bodies. "This, Miss Granger," he gestured between the two of them, "is not a game." He held up a hand. "Listen for once, and do not speak."

Hermione nodded, closing her mouth and ending the protest on her tongue.

"The liberties you have taken are foolish... Perhaps I have been remiss in my duties to allow them, but it must end and end now."

"Admit to me that you care, and I'll leave you be."

Bloody defiant Gryffindor. "I do not take kindly to ultimatums, Miss Granger."

"Tough, Professor. I don't take kindly to lying."

He abruptly released the girl, putting distance between himself and Miss Granger. "I would have a care, Miss Granger; you tread a fine line and have no idea what might await you after the fall."

"I'm not scared of you, nor falling... I already have fallen."

"You would do well to fear me, Miss Granger." He turned from her.

"You won't hurt me."

Her voice so full of assuredness, he closed his eyes, pained.

"I already have." He turned to face her. "It won't be the fall that kills you, Miss Granger, but the sudden stop at the end."

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A/N: Again heartfelt thanks and appreciation go out to my wonderful beta, SLU and to all my readers.