Expect the Unexpected

A/N: Thank you to Lariope and Lulabelle72 for the charming comments about this chapter. You both have really encouraged me to strive harder and become a better writer. I look up to the both of you so very much. RedSkyAtNight, you are such a patient sweetheart. I know by the end of this, you are going to get so tired of telling me how to properly use the words: lie, lay, lain, and laid. Anyway, thank you to my reviewers--your words inspire me to keep going on this dark and twisted tale."

Euphoria.

There was no other word for the way Hermione felt as she snuggled tightly in the crook of Snape's arm, inhaling his masculine scent of leather, herbs... and sex.

Sex.

She just had sex with Severus Snape.

Oh, gods, she had just had sex with Severus Snape! Who would've guessed that he would've been the one to take her virginity--to make her feel things she never thought possible. Who knew that she could make him tremble and shake and moan and cry out her name so loudly that the echoes of that passion reverberated off her chest.

He had told her that he hadn't been with many women--mostly whores he found in Muggle Soho or Knockturn Alley, and so she presumed that she was the first to make him shudder the way he had. And she knew that she was the first woman that he had lain in bed with afterwards, holding and telling her things that Severus Snape shouldn't be telling to anyone.

Hermione grinned to herself. Doesn't he realize the power I now hold over him?

Hermione blinked.

Don't you realize the power he now holds over you? "Hermione, come! Come with me!" Well done, Granger. Every time you hear him say the word 'come,' you'll imagine his naked body above you, pumping in out of you, and begging you to follow him over the edge. And you'll just melt and lose all coherent thoughts, exposing yourself, exposing your weakness--for him. And because he is a devious man, he'll know...He'll know that your knickers are wet for him and him alone. And he'll taunt you. Oh, gods, I'm getting wet just thinking about it!

Her walls began pulsating, and the slickness between her legs seeped down the crease of her arse, just from thinking about having him inside her again. But as the excitement between her legs grew, she also became conscious of the soreness inside her from when he had broken through her barrier. But just as he had said, it would pass. In fact, her entire body was sore. Her jaw from keeping her mouth held wide open while she tasted his cock... Her fingers from first gripping him tightly to her and then rapidly circling her clit with an eagerness she had never felt before... Her hips from extending past her normal flexibility, opening wide to invite him further inside her body...

But she had loved every minute of it... Well, perhaps not when the tip of his cock had pushed against the back of her throat, making her gag, but everything else was everything she had hoped for--especially when he had played with her clit.

With his tongue.

Of course, she had been a bit disappointed when he didn't lay next to her longer and, instead, immediately wanted to collect an extremely valuable potion ingredient. However, that feeling didn't last long because that was the person she had known--he was always thinking ahead and not letting an opportunity pass by. And of course, he had been a gentleman and asked her permission. And she could've said no, but why waste something so precious? This was why she knew that she and Snape fit together--they both had understood the importance of the situation and hadn't let frivolous emotions taint their actions.

Now, if he had accumulated the blood, then left her in the bed, she would have been furious. But he hadn't. He had climbed back into the bed and gathered her in his arms, nuzzling her neck and running his long fingers gently through her hair... He had fallen in love with her too; she just knew it. She felt it deep in her soul.

Hermione's breathing became deep and steady, and her body went very still as she began to drift off to sleep in the arms of her man, perfect contentment washing over her.

"Arrrgggghhhhhhhh!"

The unexpected, agonizing scream startled her. The rough jab of his elbow in her gut and the quick removal of the arm that lay under her head sent her rolling across the bed, gasping for air.

"Oh, Merlin... fucking... fuck! Aaahhhhhh!" Gripping his left arm, he rolled to his knees in pain and buried his face in the pillows.

"Sev..." she began, coughing. "S-Severus!"

Hermione forced herself to stay calm, but her sweaty palms, racing heartbeat and the tears threatening to fall told her body otherwise. What was she supposed to do?

He flipped to one side and drew his knees to his chest. His cheeks were a deep crimson, and his eyes were squeezed shut. His knuckles were white from tightly gripping his forearm. "M-my wand!"

Hermione scrambled out of the bed, tripping over the jumbled sheets. She jumped to her feet and reached over to the bedside table that was next to him.

"Oh, shite! Where is it?" she swore, looking around frantically.

"I need my FUCKING WAND!"

Thank the gods!

She stooped over and snatched the wand from under the bed--it had been knocked to the floor when he had begun thrashing around in pain.

She leaned over him and forced the wand between his clutched hands. "Open your hand! There you go..."

Hermione cringed when she noticed a trickle of blood oozing from beneath his palm, trailing toward the crevice of his elbow--his Dark Mark was bleeding.

Hermione stepped backwards, holding both hands over her mouth in shock.

Surprised that he was still conscious despite the pain, she watched helplessly as Snape flipped out of the bed, landed on his knees and gripped the bedside table to stabilize himself as he stood on his shaky legs.

"D-dark Lord... Outraged... Trouble..." he garbled, as he gasped for air. "Never... felt him to be this... angry..."

Not once had Hermione ever heard Severus Snape sound so unlike himself, so unlike the smooth, sure man she knew who seemed in control of every situation. She wanted to hold her hand out to him and comfort him, but she was scared and unsure how he would react. "Severus--"

"Hermione, ward... ward the room! Argghhhh!" Another horrendous pain must have traveled through him because he clutched his arm to his chest and nearly crumbled. He forced his eyes open and took another unsteady step toward her.

Hermione was frozen in place. Another wobbly step and he lurched at her, wrenching her to his chest, causing her to squeal with fright.

"Do not leave this room until I return! It is too dangerous! Promise me!" he said roughly.

"P-promise me you'll come back safely," she said in return.

He let go of her body and gripped the sides of her neck, circling his thumbs around her cheek and looking deeply into her eyes.

"I promise," he whispered.

"Then I promise I will not leave," she said softly.

"When I come back..." He hissed and held his breath as the pain tore through him again. "Make sure it truly is me when I return," he said, struggling against his agony. A quick flick of his wand, and he was fully dressed.

He touched her lips with the pad of his thumb before he took a step back and placed his wand to his Dark Mark and disappeared.

Hermione was left standing between the wall and bed, naked and cold and frightened.

She wrapped her arms around her body and slumped to the ground in a tiny ball, sobbing. Her body was shaking, and she was sick to her stomach. Everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours came crashing down upon her. She thought she had been strong, strong enough to cope with anything. She had thought she was capable of handling stressful experiences.

But she had been wrong. It seemed that every ounce of adult strength and composure had left her, leaving a little girl who wanted to hide under her blankets with her teddy bear and let the grownups take away everything that made her hurt.

Hermione rocked back and forth, tears falling quickly over her cheeks as her wails of confusion and despair echoed throughout the silent room.

How was it possible that so much had happened to her in such a short amount of time? And how did one channel the lows and highs of these situations and not completely break?

She cried long and hard, remembering what had gone on inside the pyramid in vivid detail as though she was inside that horrible place once more, and how she had finally felt complete with Snape in her arms, and how he had then been forcefully taken away from her just as her body and mind had surrendered to his enveloping protection and love.

The worst of everything, though, was that Snape was in trouble. She recalled the night Rodolphus and Greyback had attacked him. Surely, what a wizard and a werewolf could do was nothing compared to what an infuriated Voldemort could do, and she was sickened by the thought of what would lie in store for her beloved, especially if Voldemort had been angry enough to cause Snape's Dark Mark to bleed.

Finally, all the tears had left her, and she lay crumpled on the plush carpet, stagnant and staring, as an eerie calm came over her.

She sighed heavily, blinked away the last tear, and slowly rose to her feet. She took several steps towards the pile of her clothes and found her wand. Using every single protective ward she knew, Hermione secured herself in the room.

She trudged into the bathroom, placed her wand next to the sink and stepped in the shower. The cold water shocked her body, numbing her... numbing everything. Once her teeth had begun chattering, she turned on the hot water to sooth her sore muscles and scrubbed herself with the spicy Egyptian soap.

When she was finished, she wrapped her body in the fluffy, black robe that hung on the hook behind the door and padded into the bedroom. She got some clean clothes from her luggage and dressed herself. She attempted to brush the knots out of her hair, but gave up and threw her hairbrush across the room. It bounced off the table and landed on her dirty clothes. Hermione's attention was caught by something poking out from the fabric of her trousers.

The book!

She rushed over to the pile of clothes, pulled the tome out of her pocket, sat it upon the table and flicked her wand over it, transfiguring it back to its normal size.

Hermione was slightly nervous that a curse would fly at her, but she trusted Snape. He had checked the book, and there were no curses, hexes, jinxes, or spells on it. So, she proceeded to be the curious cat that she was. She did need something to occupy her mind while Snape was... Well, she couldn't think like that right now. She needed to be positive and calm. He was the negative one, not her.

"Well, I might as well start reading this, looking for the information about Horcruxes," she said aloud.

She sat in one of the chairs and strummed her fingers on the table, thinking.

Let's see... I know if I start reading this, I could lose myself in it because of the effect of staring at it too long. Therefore, I need to be able to wrench myself away from the book every hour. And I'm sure I'll have to rest my mind in between sessions of reading it...

Hermione ran several scenarios though her head for over an hour until she had a plan that she was satisfied with.

It took her another hour to set the correct charms in place and test her theory. She placed a spell on the chair so that every hour it would rotate a hundred and eighty degrees, tearing her eyes off the book and yanking her out of her coma-like state. She was only able to test it once, and it worked. She just hoped the magic of the book didn't make her fight the spell on the chair so that she couldn't move her eyes from it.

She wished he were here with her.

She found the necklace that Dumbledore had given her, slipped it over her head and watched it glow teal, ready for use. She sat down in front of the book, reached out with a shaky hand, placed the bottom corner of the tome in between her thumb and forefinger, inhaled deeply and flipped it open.

Hermione had expected for a bright light to come flooding out of the pages, like some magical tomes she had come across, but there were just ordinary pages inside the book--nothing special about them.

Except for the information that was written on those pages. Once again, Hermione scanned them, looking for anything about Horcruxes or souls. But items like the many uses of brains in potions, how to sexually satisfy your mistress with magic, or how to locate the City of the Dead kept coming at her, enticing her to drop her original purpose.

She flipped another page and was suddenly jerked around. It had been an hour and the chair had spun around. Hermione's eyes were burning. She rubbed them, hoping the pain would go away, but it got worse. She opened her watering eyes and ran to the bathroom where she splashed cold water on her face, cooling her eyes. When the pain was gone, she dried off and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and she looked as if she had been crying.

But it was well worth it.

Before the chair had pulled her away from the book, she caught a glimpse of the next passage: Revealing Souls.

Feeling like she had accomplished something, Hermione crawled into the bed to rest so that when she tried again, she would be fresh and could concentrate better.

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, but her mind kept wandering back to Snape and what he had to endure while she slept in a huge, comfortable bed. It didn't seem fair. But, he was the spy. It was to be expected of him.

She just hoped he was all right.

Hermione had only intended to sleep for an hour or two, but when she woke and looked at the clock, she realized that it had been over six hours. Hermione shot out of the bed.

"Severus?" she said, walking toward the bathroom, hoping he was in there. She was disappointed when she found it empty. After she freshened up, dressed, and ordered a small breakfast, which was nerve-wracking because she had to drop her wards to order and retrieve her food, she was ready to try reading the book once more.

As soon as she sat down in front of the tome, she was once again sucked into the essence of the book. And, an hour later, she was happily jerked away from it, for she had found exactly what she had been searching for.

After rinsing her burning eyes with water again, she retrieved her notebook and Muggle pencil from her bag and began writing notes. "Revealing the soul. To locate a soul that is hidden. The spell is almost like the Homenum Revelio Charm."

The passage was short. She hoped it might mention other ways to get rid of a soul, or what exactly would happen once she said the spell, but the instructions were vague and finished by saying, 'You will see the light.'

Hermione had no idea what that meant, but she was excited to find out. If all went well, she would possess one of the most powerful tools against Voldemort.

She stood in the middle of the room, trying to ignore her racing heart, and did two circular swishes to the left. She then twirled the wand above her head, flicking it in an exact reproduction of the book's instructions saying the charm.

Hermione stood still for a moment, waiting. But nothing happened.

"Damn it! Well, maybe the spell did work, but there isn't a hidden soul in the room, so it appears as if nothing happened."

But what about your soul? The spell should reveal it, right?

Again, Hermione did the movements and incantation, but this time she concentrated harder, and enunciated her words.

Again, nothing happened.

She tried once more, but the like previous two attempts, nothing occurred. She became highly frustrated, pacing back and forth, thinking over what she had read in the book, and wondering if she had forgotten something.

"One more fucking time," she muttered as she did the spell again.

The hotel room went pitch black, all sound from the outside world disappeared, and the temperature dropped to sub-zero, arctic temperature. It was so damn cold that it stung her exposed skin and made her feel as if she were standing naked on top of a glacier.

Hermione tensed. She couldn't see anything around her. Had she done the spell correctly? Had someone breached her wards and done this to her? Was something lurking in the darkness?

She hadn't noticed that she was holding her breath until her chest restricted, forcing her to release the air trapped in her lungs. She pursed her lips and blew a stream of air out. Her breath was misty and white, shimmering even in the darkness, swirling around in a translucent cloud. She gasped, but her shock was cut short when her body began glowing a mystic, cobalt color, lighting the darkness.

What the bloody hell is going on?

Afraid that something terrible was going to happen to her, Hermione whispered, "Finite Incantatem," praying that it would stop the spell.

The stillness of the room was immediately gone; the dark and the freezing temperatures vanished. The sounds of the ticking clock, the low whistle of the wind against the window, and the warmth of the room flooded her senses. A rush of relief shot through her trembling body--she was happy to be back in the hotel room, if she had ever left. She scanned the room to see if anything had been disrupted. She looked at the clock and noticed that she had only been in that strange blackout for a few minutes, though in her distress, it had felt like much longer.

She grabbed her notebook and started writing down her questions and observations.

"Where did I go when I said the spell--did I stay in the room? Why did my body start glowing--was it my soul? Be sure to wear warm clothes before casting the charm..."

A thunderous pounding hammered on the door, startling her. Hermione looked up in alarm. She hadn't called for room-service. She tried to swallow away the sudden dryness in her mouth, but couldn't.

Again, the harsh knocking shook the wooden door, and Hermione leapt up, holding her wand out, ready for whatever was coming.

"Hermione, if you can hear me, open the door!"

Snape!

She dashed to the door, happy to hear his voice, happy to know he was all right. She was about to remove the wards when she remembered what he had said about identifying him as the real Severus Snape. A queasy sensation settled in the pit of her stomach when she thought the worse--what if it was someone disguised as him, trying to get her. What if he were already dead--

"Hermione!"

She removed the Muffliato Charm and the Silencing Spell so she could speak to the person on the other side of the door.

"I can hear you!"

"Let me inside, Hermione."

"No. Not until you prove yourself as the real Severus Snape!"

"That's my girl," came the satisfied reply. "What do you want to know?"

"What did you say to me in my fourth year when Malfoy hit me with a hex that made my teeth grow larger?"

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione, I don't remember."

She huffed. "Fine. What marks did I get in my N.E.W.T.s?"

"That's a ridiculous question. If anyone knows your character, they will automatically know that you got all Outstandings."

Hermione stepped back from the door, her jaw falling open. That was the wrong answer.

Oh, fuck. What do I do?

"Expect in Potions, in which you deserved the Acceptable that I gave you. I believe I told you that your written work was something I wouldn't even wipe my arse with."

Hermione sighed heavily and relaxed her tense muscles. Fucking git... scaring me like that.

"One more question. What is your Patronus?"

There was silence behind the door, and Hermione thought he hadn't hear her. Or perhaps, he really was an imposter. But before she could repeat the question, in a low voice he said, "A doe. But I wouldn't be surprised to find it had become an otter."

Hermione smiled bashfully, removed the wards and opened the door.

Snape was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed in front of him, and he was smirking.

"Hi," she said, standing against the wall and holding the door open so he could walk inside.

"Good evening," he said, walking smoothly towards her.

She was about to tell him that she missed him, but he startled her when he lurched toward her, wrapping one arm around her waist, and spinning her around to the opposite wall, slamming her back into the plaster. He pinned her against it with his body. His hand squeezed her arse, drawing her hips closer as he proceeded to grind his erection against her. His face was slightly tilted to the right as he leaned in, snatching her lips with his own.

There was a certain roughness about his kiss--it was almost as if he was in need of it, as if his life depended on it. Before she could really respond, his tongue pushed its way past her lips, snaking out to twist around hers. Hermione was thrown off guard. She hadn't expected him to nearly attack her, but she could feel the lust radiating from him.

He sharply pulled his lips off hers. Her own were puffy from his heated kiss, and she knew she was blushing.

"I can't stand being away from you."

She grinned. "I missed you too. I suppose this means that you are all right, then?"

Snape ignored her, heading for the table that had their personal items and the book on top of it.

There was something different about the way he moved--as if he was limping, but trying to hide it.

"What happened after you left? Were you... harmed?"

"If I had any intention of telling you that, don't you think I would have answered you the first time," he snapped, turning on his heel and looking sinister.

Hermione's eyes widened at this sudden change in his demeanor. She dropped her gaze to the floor, her heart thudding in her chest. Had she somehow offended him?

"Hermione, I'm sorry--I shouldn't have said that," he said, walking over to her and reaching out for her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the top of it. "It's been a long, tiring and extremely stressful evening,"

"I-I just want to help," she said softly.

He stepped closer to her and ran his finger down her face and through her hair. "I know. But the only thing to be done at present is getting out of here and back to Hogwarts."

"Why? What is--"

"Shhh..." he said, placing his fingertips over her full lips. "We haven't got time for questions and explanations right now, love. You must listen to me and obey. It's for your own good. Pack your belongings and transfigure the book. It's too dangerous here, away from the protection of the castle," he said in a soothing, yet firm voice.

Hermione was scared. She didn't like being out of the loop on things, and she definitely didn't like to hear Severus Snape pronounce something too dangerous, because that was never a good sign.

He must have noticed her anxiety because he wrapped her up in his arms and slowly ran his fingers through her hair. She was longing to feel his body so tightly around hers, and she hugged his waist, locking her hands behind him, never wanting to let go. "Don't panic, Hermione. Everything will be fine. Just do as I ask, and do it quickly." He released her and placed his hand under her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "I will never let anything happen to you--do you understand that?"

She nodded.

He kissed her on the forehead, turned away from her and began to collect their items.

They were finished within minutes, and Snape hooked his arm through hers, drew himself up to his full height and looked down at her between strands of his black hair. "Ready?"

Was it her nerves that were making her feel uneasy, or was it something else... a witch's intuition? She had Apparated with him before, and never had he looked so tense. His stringy hair curtained around most of his features, shadowing his dark eyes and brows. His skin seemed even whiter than usual against the stark black hair--he was incredibly sinister, but she put it down to his recent stress. Chills traveled through her as she said, "Yes. I'm ready."

He slowly faced forward, chin held high, and inhaled deeply. Although it was a posture of confidence, arrogance even, the hand that rested against the small of her back twitched as it stroked her. Hermione was perplexed, and the tendrils of fear continued to creep up her spine. They should've been gone by now--it was almost like he was contemplating something or clearing his mind.

Perhaps it's because we have to travel so far, and it takes a lot of energy and concentration.

Finally, the familiar sensation of Apparating engulfed her body. When she thought she couldn't take any more of the pressure and was going to suffocate, they landed on a hard surface.

As she opened her eyes, the looping tendrils of fear blossomed into near-panic. Instead of the recognizable wrought-iron gates that guarded Hogwarts, she was faced with something very wrong, very, very wrong. In place of the castle that Hermione called her second home stood a building she was all too familiar with, and a sickening sensation overtook her.

Looming before her in the darkness was Malfoy Manor.

Up Next: Hermione wants answers from Severus.