Deadly Folly | By : chrmisha Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 5450 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
By Chrmisha
Summary: Hermione Granger makes a potentially fatal mistake. Severus Snape must risk her life and his in order to save her.
A/N: Although this fic contains an act of rape, it is generally a compassionate fic with a happy ending. Please be forewarned though.
Severus Snape stormed to the headmaster’s office, his fists clenched in anger. Stupid girl! As he reached the stone gargoyle and said the password, his rage fanned out to include Albus Dumbledore himself. Throwing open the headmaster’s door, Snape found Potter and Weasley already seated. One look from Snape and the two boys sank even further in their chairs.
“You idiotic, irresponsible imbeciles!” Snape bellowed. His hands ached to grab the two boys in front of him and throw them against the wall, asking them what on earth they’d been thinking.
“Severus, please…” Albus’s voice echoed through Snape’s rage.
Snape turned his anger on the headmaster. “Did I not warn you about letting the students leave Hogwarts at a time like this?”
“I thought they needed a bit of fresh air,” Albus said with a hint of regret in his voice.
“Did you fail to notice that there is a war going on? That the going rate of Hogwarts students, especially for Harry Potter and his friends, is worth more than all of the gold in the wizarding world?”
Snape turned his anger back on Potter and Weasley. “OUT! NOW!”
Helplessly, the sixth year Gryffindors looked to their headmaster who simply nodded. Snape slammed the door behind them.
“DAMN YOU, ALBUS! Do you know that they will do to her? What they will make ME do to her?”
Albus removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“DO YOU?” Snape said, his fist slamming down on the headmaster’s desk before he turned away and stalked to the window, staring absently out over the grounds of Hogwarts, rage emanating off his rigid form.
“You must do what you have to do.”
Snape shook his head in disgust, his black eyes seething. “That’s easy for you to say.”
“Severus…” Albus began, but Snape raised his hand to silence the foolish old wizard that sat before him.
“Don’t bother. I will do my best to bring her back alive, but I don’t hold out great hope.”
With that, Snape left the headmaster’s office in a flourish of black robes.
***
It was but an hour before the dark mark burned, summoning him to the Dark Lord’s side. He clamped his eyes shut momentarily and gritted his teeth. As he walked hurriedly towards the gates of Hogwarts, he went over his options again and again in his mind; they were few and far between. If it was only his life at stake he wouldn’t have cared. He figured he’d lose his own life long before all was said and done anyway. But now she had gotten in the way, she had complicated things for everyone involved. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself against the sight that would surely be awaiting him. Then, he Apparated.
Snape suppressed the feeling of nausea threatening to take hold. Hermione Granger lay naked and quivering at the feet of the Dark Lord, Lucius Malfoy standing menacingly over her. Lucius raised an eyebrow and smirked when Snape appeared; he was obviously quite pleased with himself over his latest capture. Snape immediately knelt before the Dark Lord, waiting to be given leave to stand. He had only had a moment to access the other Death Eaters already gathered: fifteen, perhaps twenty in all. Too many.
After giving Snape permission to rise, the Dark Lord’s voice echoed through the ranks. “It seems Lucius has brought us a fine prize this afternoon.”
“Indeed,” Snape said, feigning interest at the naked girl trembling at his master’s feet.
“If I may, my Lord?” Lucius asked. The Dark Lord nodded and Lucius spoke. “I think it only fitting that he be allowed to take her first. After all, she is one of his charges,” Lucius said, motioning to Snape with a look of challenge in his eyes.
Hope and fear waged a war within Snape. He’d rather it be him than some of the others; Lucius’s victims rarely lived through the affair. Not that it would be pleasant for her under any circumstances, but he might be her only chance.
“Agreed,” the Dark Lord finally said. “Take her, she is yours.”
There would be no privacy, Snape knew. No time to warn her, to prepare her for what he had to do. He grabbed her bodily and dragged her to a corner, dropping her unceremoniously on the cold, hard floor. Her eyes widened as she realized it was her Potions professor standing over her. He could read the flutter of hope in her eyes that was quickly replaced by fear. He had thrown her legs apart and was casting a spell on himself, a spell to awaken his member and coat it with lubricant. He took no pleasure in rape and without a hardening spell, he’d not be able to penetrate anything. Taking a deep breath, he willed his mind to enter hers. “Miss Granger, do NOT scream. It will cost you your life.” With that, he thrust into her. She was so tight and small, it was actually painful for him. And, to make matters worse, she was a virgin. He had been hoping she wouldn’t be. It was bad enough that he had to rape her, and that it was her first time only made matters worse. He had bothered to spare her a quick glance before penetrating her. He had seen the sheer terror followed by excruciating pain etched on her face and he’d had to look away. He’d never be able to do this if he had to watch her. He thrust hard and fast, trying to get it over with as quickly as possible. He finished with a grunt, pulling out of her as if he’d been burned by fire. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes as she laid there silent, staring blankly into nothingness. He hovered near her, waiting for instruction.
“Did you enjoy your prize, Severus?” the Dark Lord asked.
“For a Mudblood, she was acceptable,” Snape said, sparing a raking glance over Hermione’s small body. “Thank you, my Lord.”
Snape saw the glint of anticipation in Lucius Malfoy’s eyes as Lucius looked over at where Hermione lay bleeding. The Dark Lord must have seen it as well.
“You are too eager, Lucius. And it seems that Snape has already broken her spirit. Weak, pathetic child. You have wasted your efforts Lucius in bringing this one to me.”
“What shall I do with her, my Lord?” Snape asked, keeping his voice cold and even as a tiny spark of hope burned within him.
The Dark Lord surveyed the girl with disgust. “Remove her from my sight. She is yours to do with as you please. Leave her broken and bloodied body at your school. Let her be a symbol to her friends.”
“Would it please you more if she lived or died?” It did not matter to Snape, as long as he could leave with her.
The Dark Lord seemed to ponder this for a moment. “Let her live. Her shattered life will be more painful for her friends to bear than her death.”
“Very well, my Lord,” Snape said, bowing. Harshly grabbing Hermione’s naked body, he Apparated them both to the back gates of Hogwarts.
He set her on her feet momentarily, ripping off his cloak and wrapping it around her naked body before lifting her into his arms once again. She shook violently against his body.
“Not a word, Miss Granger,” he murmured as he moved quickly towards a back entrance of the castle. It was near midnight as he carried her through the dungeons, seeking the shelter and seclusion of his private rooms. Once inside, he set her down and erected strong wards so that no one could enter or leave without his knowledge.
He turned to see Hermione backing away from him, fear and loathing in her eyes. She was still shaking but had regained her voice.
“YOU BASTARD!” she shouted. “LET ME GO! LET ME OUT OF HERE!”
“Miss Granger,” he said, taking a step forward.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” she screamed, backing up further and holding the woolen robes tightly against her flesh.
Snape stood still, gritting his teeth in frustration. “Miss Granger, please stop…”
“Why? So you can rape me again? So you can leave my broken and bloodied body in some field? So I can be your Mudblood whore?”
“ENOUGH!” Snape shouted. Closing his eyes briefly, his breath ragged, he spoke in harsh tones. “You got yourself into this mess, Miss Granger. What were you doing out alone in Hogsmeade anyway?”
“I– I– You can’t blame me for this!” she said, slumping against the corner she’d backed herself into, tears slipping down her face again. “You raped me!”
“And what choice did you leave me, Miss Granger?”
Appalled, her voice shaking, she uttered, “Your only concern was saving your own wretched life. If they’d have known what a traitor you are, surely they’d have killed you.”
“And what do you think they would have done to you, Miss Granger?” Snape questioned, his voice soft and silky.
He watched as comprehension dawned on her. “Oh my god!” she gasped, her hand covering her gaping mouth, her eyes wide.
“Exactly,” said Snape. “I care not for my own life, Miss Granger. If I had broken my cover, they would have killed me, yes, but your death would have been much more prolonged and painful.”
“The other Death Eaters, they were waiting to… waiting to…” Hermione reasoned as she slowly slid down the wall. “I heard your voice in my head. You told me not to scream. You told me it would cost me my life.” She pulled her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them.
“I thought that if you seemed to be defeated so easily, the Dark Lord might let you escape with your life. It was a risk, Miss Granger, but I saw no other way. Others have not been as fortunate as you.” Fortunate indeed, he thought sarcastically as he looked at the mere slip of a girl sobbing on the floor of his chambers.
He watched again as realization flashed across her face. “Gretchen Wilton, Belinda Marness. The students captured by Death Eaters and, and their bodies were found here, at Hogwarts…” She put her head in her hands, her body shaking.
“Indeed,” Snape said as he stepped closer to her, squatting down a few feet in front of her. Any closer and he might scare her.
“Miss Granger,” he said softly, “there are a few things I need to do. They will not hurt but may be a bit––uncomfortable––for you.” He moved closer to her, gently placing his hands on her knees. She recoiled slightly, but he persisted. “May I examine you?”
After a moment, she nodded and looked away while he slowly pushed her trembling legs apart. He forced himself to ignore the sobs that increased under his ministrations. As quickly and discreetly as he could, he examined her, gritting his teeth at the damage he’d caused. Grimacing, he uttered the necessary spells. In an instant, all traces of their encounter were gone. The healing spells he’d used were meant to eliminate the pain and burning she surely felt as well. From the sudden look of relief on her face, he knew they had worked. He uttered one last spell, a contraception spell, before quickly covering her back up with the robe she still held tightly to her body.
“You did not scream. How did you manage?”
She swallowed, tears still streaming down her face. “I bit my tongue.”
“As I thought, Miss Granger. Please open your mouth.”
She obliged, and he observed her swollen and bloodied tongue. Quickly, he cast a spell to heal that tender tissue as well.
“Does it hurt anywhere else, Miss Granger?”
She shook her head, her eyes not meeting his eyes.
“Can I go now?” she asked in a timid voice.
He sat back on his haunches. “No.”
She looked incredulous. “Why not?”
“Because you are to be found broken and bloodied, remember? You will remain here until we come up with a suitable plan as to how you were found and where you are being treated for your injuries.”
She looked away from him and closed her eyes. He studied her for a long moment before sweeping her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked, struggling in his arms.
“A bath, Miss Granger.”
“Why?”
“Because I have heard that women find them soothing. Please,” he said, setting her down and motioning to the tub which was rapidly filling with warm water and lavender scented bubbles. “I will have the house elves fetch your clothing and some food. Is there anything else you require, Miss Granger?”
“No,” she said numbly.
“Miss Granger?”
He waited until she looked at him through blurry, haunted eyes.
“I am truly sorry for what happened this evening.”
She nodded and looked away as the tears seemed to flow even faster from her eyes if that were possible.
He shut the door behind him and flooed the headmaster to meet him in his quarters.
***
Hermione closed her eyes and leaned back against the porcelain of the tub. She knew she was lucky to be alive, but somehow that thought did nothing to comfort her. Severus Snape had raped her. He had said he had no choice. That she’d left him no choice. She clenched her eyes shut, unwilling to take responsibility for what he’d done to her. She shouldn’t have walked away from Ron and Harry that afternoon in Hogsmeade. She’d been so stupid. They were just teasing her after all. And now she couldn’t even remember what they had said that had made her so angry. She had stalked away, ignoring the warnings about traveling in groups, about never venturing outside of the castle alone. Soon, she’d lost them in the crowd. And then she’d started back on the path to the castle, angry and alone. She was jumped from behind, her wand grabbed, snapped in half. In less than a second, she’d been Apparated away. She’d been taken to the Dark Lord, “an offering” they had called her, “a Mudblood, a Hogwarts student, a friend of Potter’s.” She had been stripped naked and pushed to the floor to await her fate. She was aware of the gathered Death Eaters leering at her, making rude comments and gestures. She had curled into a ball, uncontrollable fear uncoiling inside of her. And then she had been dragged to a corner by one of the Death Eaters who’d just arrived. As his mask slipped from his face, she recognized him immediately; Professor Snape, her potions master. Hope flitted through her briefly until she saw the look in his eyes. And then he was on top of her, having his way with her. Trying to shake off the dirty feeling that had invaded her body, she sank further into the tub. Out of nowhere, it occurred to her that perhaps she was not the only one to have suffered. She recalled the fleeting look of regret that flashed behind his dark eyes before he’d penetrated her. She had seen the horrified expression on his face when he had examined the damage he’d done to her. Still, how could he blame her for what had happened? As the scene played relentlessly in her mind, she put her hands to her head. “Stop!” she screamed. “Please, stop! Stop!”
Vaguely, she recognized a knocking sound at the door.
“Go away!”
The door opened. She glared at Snape as he walked into the bathroom carrying a vile of light blue colored potion. “Drink this, Miss Granger.”
She pushed his hand away. “Leave me alone.”
“It will bring you relief, I assure you.”
She met his black eyes, meaning to make him see the hatred she felt for him. Instead, she was taken aback by the compassion she saw in his depthless eyes, and something else. Pity, perhaps? An apology? Regret?
She grabbed the vile and downed its contents. It was thicker than water and slid easily down her throat, leaving a cool trail in its path. In mere moments, the memories stopped and a sense of tranquility descended over her. She relaxed, her mind peacefully blank.
“That stuff should be illegal,” she murmured, studying the bubbles in the bath with renewed interest.
“It is.”
She heard the bathroom door shut and he was gone. Sighing, she inhaled the scent of lavender and what was the other fragrance? Ah, jasmine. Contented, she closed her eyes, not a care in the world.
It must be late, she thought lazily. I should get some sleep. Reluctantly, she extracted herself from the bathtub, dried off, and made her way to where her night clothes were folded neatly on the bed. Realizing where she was, she slipped her school robe over her nightgown and found Snape in his study, quill in hand. She leaned against the doorjam and studied him. She should hate him, shouldn’t she? She was angry, wasn’t she? As she stared at the man behind the desk, she couldn’t conjure a single feeling towards him, negative or positive. He just was. Dangerous, she thought, recalling the potion. No wonder it’s illegal.
“Do you require assistance, Miss Granger?”
“I would like to sleep,” she said, noticing that he hadn’t looked at her.
“You may sleep in my bed.”
With idle interest, she asked, “And where will you sleep, Professor?”
Setting down his quill, his eyes met hers. “Here, in my study, on the couch. Get some rest, Miss Granger. There is food in my chambers if you are hungry.”
Hermione nodded and retired to his room. Closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep immediately, grateful for the potion that so successfully kept her inner torment at bay.
***
Hermione awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through a window across from the bed. She snuggled under the covers, vaguely aware that there was no window directly across from her bed in her dormitory. Stretching under the luxurious sheets, she also realized they were not the starchy cotton she was used to, but something much softer and more subtle, like silk or satin. Shaking the cobwebs from her brain, she opened her eyes. Green and black curtains hung around the huge, four poster bed. Startled, she sat up, trying to focus her sleep-fogged brain into recalling where she was. Her eyes widened as the weight of the prior day’s events settled heavily over her. “Oh gods,” she muttered, falling back onto the mattress and throwing her arm over her eyes to block the sunlight and the memories. At least the physical pain is gone, she thought absently to herself. At least he took that away. She lay there a long time before she found the courage and the strength to crawl out of bed. She dressed slowly, nervously, before exiting his chambers. She had no idea how he would react to her this morning. She found him sitting at a small table set for two, an array of breakfast foods waiting to be consumed.
She watched as he took his gaze from the Daily Prophet to study her. “Did you sleep well, Miss Granger?”
She nodded, unsure of her words. She sat on the empty chair after he silently motioned her to join him for breakfast.
“You need to eat,” was all he said before returning to the newspaper in front of him.
Reluctantly, she picked at the food in front of her, a question niggling at the corner of her mind. “Why didn’t you just Obliviate my memory last night?” she asked, pushing bits of food around on her plate with her fork.
“Your mind is too precious a thing to risk, Miss Granger. Memory modification is not without risk.”
She swallowed this bit of information bitterly. So he thinks my mind is precious? My mind, but obviously not my body. No, that wasn’t quite fair. He did take away my pain, and he did seem truly sorry for what he’d done to me, what he’d had to do to me.
“However, if you so desire, I am sure it can be seen to. You may discuss it with Dumbledore when he arrives.”
Stunned, Hermione dropped her fork, the loud clinking noise reverberating through the room. “The headmaster knows?” Hermione asked, appalled at the thought.
Snape gave her a quelling look and returned to his food and the newspaper.
Of course the headmaster knows, she thought to herself. He has to know. He knew I was missing. He knew Snape would be called. He knew what Snape would have to do. She got up abruptly and fled from the room, locking herself in Snape’s bedroom before collapsing on his bed in tears.
When she’d finally pulled herself together, Snape and Dumbledore were waiting for her in the study. She seated herself in an empty chair in the corner and waited to be spoken to.
“Miss Granger, I am very sorry for your ordeal,” Albus said solemnly.
Hermione just nodded, studying the intricate patterns on the rug and trying to keep her tears at bay. This whole thing was at least partially her fault, she’d been forced to admit. How many times had she warned Harry about taking unnecessary risks? She would have had a fit if he’d have done what she did, stalked off alone, putting himself at risk. She shook her head at her own stupidity. If she hadn’t walked away from Harry and Ron, none of this would have happened. Her head jerked up as she heard Snape’s voice echo in her mind, “Everyone makes mistakes, Miss Granger, even you. You did not deserve what happened to you.” He was looking at her thoughtfully and she wondered if he could hear her thoughts as well as interjecting his own into her consciousness.
“We have decided on a tentative plan to handle your situation, Miss Granger,” Albus continued. “With your approval, we thought you might like to spend a week at your parents’ home. There will be a report made about you being found on the grounds of Hogwarts, badly beaten, with a note saying that you are recovering in the hospital wing here at the castle, for your own safety of course.”
“What shall I tell my parents?” Hermione asked.
“Whatever you like,” Albus said. “Is this acceptable to you?”
Hermione nodded.
“There is one more thing, Miss Granger.”
She didn’t like the graveness in his voice. She steeled herself against what he might say next.
“It would be my preference to have Professor Snape accompany you to your parents’ home and set up wards there. Merlin knows no one erects stronger wards. However, if you are uncomfortable with this, I will find someone else to accompany you.”
“No, that will be fine,” Hermione said quietly, staring at her fingers as she spoke. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as you are ready, Miss Granger. I will send word to your parents so that they are expecting you.”
When Dumbledore left, Snape moved to the far end of the couch, closest to the chair in which she sat. Silently, he held out a long, narrow box wrapped in blue velvet with a dark blue silk bow. She looked at him questioningly as she reached for the box, but his expression was unreadable. Opening it, she stared in wonder at the object before her.
“Thank you,” she said, running her fingers along the smooth wood of the wand that lie inside, an exact replica of the one that had been taken from her the day before and snapped in half.
“You are welcome. The house elves are packing your belongings as we speak. Please try and eat something before we leave,” he said as he turned to walk out of the study.
“Professor?”
He stopped but did not turn to face her.
“I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”
Hermione watched as Snape’s body tensed. She barely heard his next words.
“As am I, Miss Granger, as am I.”
***
Hermione had returned to classes the following week. She’d been sworn to secrecy by Dumbledore as to her “ordeal” as he liked to refer to it and the students had been told that she had no memory it. Harry and Ron had only asked her once if she knew what happened. Although she couldn’t tell them, they were loathe to let her out of their sight.
Hermione and Snape never spoke of that evening again. In fact, they never spoke at all outside of the interaction required in class. This was not any different thanit had been though. She did notice that he seemed more subdued towards her. Where before he would have yelled at her in front of the entire class, now he simply ignored her or made his comments in passing quietly to her. When she had returned to class and sat next to Neville, he had merely said, “Miss Granger, switch places with Miss Patil.” After class, he’d requested a word with her. His voice did not hold the normal edge of malice it usually did for her and her two best friends. Instead, he simply said, “Please do not sit next to Longbottom again, I have no desire to reprimand you in front of the class.”
It wasn’t until the final battle that Hermione came face to face with Snape as a Death Eater once more. It was early in the battle, too early for him to show his true colors. If she’d ever doubted his allegiance before, she no longer did after that fateful night two years ago. He had raped her, yes, but unwillingly so, and he’d done what he could to ease her pain afterwards. As the battle raged, she’d found herself cornered by two Death Eaters, their wands entrained on her. Ready to fight, her wand raised, a curse teetered on her lips. Then, another Death Eater stepped in front of her. “This one is mine,” the cold voice drawled, Snape’s voice. And then a curse sprang from his lips. She gasped, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her. Inside her head, his voice roared, “On the ground, Miss Granger. Act as if you are in pain.” Immediately, she obeyed, falling to the ground, writhing and moaning in feigned pain. “Enough!” the voice echoed in her head. Raising her head, she noticed that the other two Death Eaters were gone. “Get up,” he demanded. When she hesitated, he noticed the large quantity of blood oozing from her leg. A few well placed slicing hexes seemed to be draining her of the precious substance. He grabbed her then, dragging her off the battlefield. Pretending to throw her harshly in the bushes, he threw one “curse” after another at her: a warming charm, a blood clotting charm, and some other charms she wasn’t familiar with. “Stay here,” he demanded, “I can not protect you on the field.” Her vision began to blur as the ground swayed beneath her. She had wanted to watch the battle, but her fight to remain conscious was futile.
She awoke to the sound of voices and the feel of being held in strong arms. She tried to speak, but no words came. She tried to open her eyes, but she couldn’t do that either. Instead, she resigned herself to concentrating on the voices around her.
“She will live,” the familiar voice drawled and she felt the rumble in his chest as the man that carried her spoke. “Have Madam Pomfrey prepare the blood replenishing potion.”
The voices continued, but she drifted back to sleep, feeling warm and secure in those arms.
When she awoke in the hospital wing the next day, there was only one question on her mind.
“Is it over?” she muttered, her eyes still unwilling to obey her command to open.
“Indeed,” the silky voice murmured, “it is over.” Vaguely, she registered that her hand was encapsulated in a much larger, warmer one.
“Did we win?”
“Yes. The Dark Lord is dead. The war is over. Potter and Weasley are fine. Now rest, Miss Granger.”
As she slowly drifted towards unconsciousness, an image of the battle entered her mind. She remembered deflecting hexes aimed at Harry and some of the other Order members. She remembered taking out three Death Eaters on her own. She remembered the nasty slicing hexes she’d received while trying to defend against an approaching Death Eater. And then an image of Professor Snape passed through her mind. He had fended off two Death Eaters and removed her from the battlefield when she could fight no longer from loss of blood. He had charmed her to stop the bleeding and keep her warm. If not for him, she realized, she would have either bled to death or been killed.
She forced her mouth to form the words. “What about Professor Snape? Is he all right?”
The hand holding hers squeezed a little tighter.
“I am fine, Miss Granger. Now get some rest.”
She struggled to open her eyes. His black ones were staring down at her, concern etched in his face.
“How long have you been here?” she asked wearily.
“I brought you here last night.”
Sighing, she closed her eyes. “I’m glad you found me,” she murmured.
His soft words echoed in her mind as she drifted back to sleep. “As am I, Miss Granger, as am I.”
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