Chapter One

A/N: I don't own anything, that right belongs to JKR. I'm just a fan who likes to take her characters out once in a while to play. Like to give a huge thanks to my rockstar beta, SeverusLovesUs.

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Chapter One

“That was not a request, Miss Granger. Get. Up.” The Potions master’s harsh, velvet growl brooked no room for argument. Hermione unclenched her hands, wiping the excess blood on the front of her school robe, and on unsteady legs, she pushed herself up from the hard stone floor. Her balance faltered slightly from the loss of blood as her knees threatened to buckle from underneath. Blindly, Hermione grasped at the tabletop of the closest workstation to keep steady, her hold weak as the flow of her crimson life force made the polished desk too slick to get a firm handle on.

The taciturn man scrutinized his pupil’s progress to remain upright and on her feet. Her robe, smeared with blood, hung heavy on her fragile frame. Severus took in her bushy haired locks matted to her scalp as the ends hung limply past her shoulders.

“Tell me,” he hissed.

Caramel colored eyes snapped to his then back down to the floor as Hermione shook her head in the negative.

“Tell me,” Severus repeated, stalking closer to the trembling sixth-year prefect. She could feel his warm breath ghosting past her slightly bent head, smelling of lemon and Earl Grey. Hermione knew that if she opened her mouth to inhale, she would be able to taste him. Taste the acid that was threatening to erupt from his lips marred by his perpetual sneer.

Taking in a deep breath, a whimper escaped her as Hermione was assailed by the heady odor of ink, parchment, burnt myrrh, lemon, stale Earl Grey tea, and an aroma that was warm and spicy, inviting, tickling her nose. She leaned in as rough, calloused, spidery fingers seized her chin in a firm grip, forcing her face to look up to his.

“Tell me,” he ordered, patience on the brink of snapping as he wrenched her closer to him, causing Hermione to bodily crash into him, her arms flailing, palms pushing against his chest, soiling the crisp white linen of his dress shirt red with small handprints. His arms wrapped around her trying to regain their equilibrium.

A mournful cry ripped from her throat, “N—no,” she sobbed and flinched in Severus’ vice-like clutch. His hooked nose nuzzled Hermione’s sweat-soaked locks, tongue flicking out to trace the shell of her ear.

“Tell me… Hermione,” the Potions master purred, causing the student in his arms to shiver.

“I—I can’t… please don’t…” she pleaded, sagging against his lean form. Frustrated by her impudence, Severus disentangled himself from the wayward girl, paying no heed to the sticky smudges of coagulated blood that caked his fingers.

“Strip.” The order falling from his lips in a guttural snarl, Severus studied her hands partially cloaked by her robe. It appeared as if the blood flow had stemmed and begun the process of clotting. Wand in hand, he muttered, “Tergeo.”

A shriek of agony was ripped from Hermione as she doubled over, landing on all fours, her face briefly making contact with the blood-splattered grey stone. Her soul-wrenching wail of pain echoing off the walls of the deserted Potions classroom as the smell of singed flesh wafted through the room.

“En—” Hermione convulsed. “N—n—no mag… magic,” she ground out before falling under the sweet enchantment of unconsciousness.