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Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Chapter 14
Hermione sat in the potions classroom, numb from all that had gone before. The adrenalin that had filled her body with strength and energy was ebbing, taking with it her last reserves. She couldn't rest now, she told herself. There was too much to be discussed. Snape had said that he couldn't allow her situation with Malfoy to continue, but there was still much he didn't know, much she didn't know.
"Sir, but what can we do? I've thought about it for ages. My parents are defenseless. It's too much risk. He's threatened Ron's family, and Harry's as well, if I got them involved. If I got anyone involved."
Snape looked thoughtful. "Miss Granger, may I ask how you know that Malfoy's threat is genuine? His father is a very powerful man, but I cannot believe that he is at his son's beck and call - attacking targets at Draco's whim."
Hermione suddenly felt her stomach clench. She hadn't told Snape about Seamus. She knew why - she felt guilty about the fact that she had received both a warning and a chance to prevent it. Now it would all come out. Snape would soon know that her actions, or rather lack of action, had already been responsible for one death. She didn't want to say it but she had no choice. In a halting voice, looking down at the desk, she told the story. By the end she was near tears.
"So, you see, Professor... If I'd believed Malfoy to start with - took him seriously... If I'd only done what he wanted. Mr. Finnegan wouldn't have been killed. Its my fault. I can hardly look at Seamus, knowing that I killed his father."
They sat in silence for a few moments and Hermione finally snuck a glance up at Snape, alarmed that he was studying her closely, his face sad. "Miss Granger, I must, unfortunately, inform you that the attack on the Finnegans was planned many weeks in advance and the target of the attack was not selected at the behest of Draco or Lucius Malfoy. Mrs. Finnegan was the actual target - her work at the Department of Mysteries made her a tempting subject for capture. Mr. Finnegan's death, I'm afraid, was... incidental."
Hermione was surprised. "But how do you know?" Her words broke off and she looked again at Snape in suspicion and surprise.
"I cannot tell you that. Let us just say it was in the capacity of my duties, of which we spoke earlier." Snape paused while Hermione considered this. His stern gaze softened slightly. "I was unable to prevent the actual attack. Word was sent just in time to save Mrs. Finnegan from capture. Unfortunately, her husband was... well, it was too late." He sighed. "I suspect young Malfoy overheard something at home and must have gathered sufficient information later through owl post to begin his campaign of blackmail."
Hermione started to feel a little better - throwing off some of the guilty feelings that she'd suffered for so long was tempting. Could it be true, she wondered. The feeling of relief she started to feel took only moments to be replaced by shame and humiliation at the possibility of having been duped by the likes of Malfoy.
That thought was horrific. Her mind rebelled frantically, but the thoughts tormented her. Had she done all this for nothing? Where was that smart pupil now? Was she stupidly tricked into performing all manner of lewd acts with the Slytherin? Her mind didn't want to process this - couldn't process it. And yet there it was. Was she a complete and utter fool?
Snape must have seen the direction her thoughts were taking her. "Miss Granger, I am not saying that you are in no danger of Malfoy. Certainly he is the most wicked little... Well, I've no doubt that he would exert what influence he could with his father if you proved - troublesome. I'm not certain of the outcome - Lucius does dote on Draco - I just don't know. It is possible."
Snape looked closely at her. "I can understand how you would believe him. You should feel neither guilt nor shame for your actions. I only wish that you had come to me -" as her expression became indignant, he added hastily, "I understand why you wouldn't, of course."
"Malfoy isn't the brightest pupil in the school, but he is clever." Snape continued. "He's known you a long time and no doubt is well aware of your personality. He took advantage of the atmosphere of fear that is spreading through the Wizarding world, knowing you must feel particularly vulnerable."
Hermione was surprised. She'd had no idea that Snape was this aware of her. It was unnerving, she thought, trying to put aside these questions. There would be time to contemplate this aspect of their conversation later. Her head was starting to hurt and she was so tired. It must have shown on her face.
"The question remains what to do now. This has all taken me quite by surprise," Snape said, gesturing. "I can tell you're very tired. You should go to bed. I need to think about things. Please tell no one of this conversation." He gestured to her. "Go back to your dormitory now, Miss Granger. Try to sleep. Tomorrow's the week end - try to stay in Gryffindor tower unless I send for you."
"But, Professor, what if Malfoy—" A noise from the hallway outside of the classroom drew her attention but she wasn't sure if she'd really heard anything. Snape interrupted her thoughts.
"Do your best to avoid him. If he does impose any demands upon you, feign illness and go to the hospital wing. Send me a message from there. Or if at any time you feel in danger, go there or to Dumbledore. I mean that. Do not take any chances. If it wouldn't look suspicious I'd send you to the hospital wing right now."
Hermione didn't move. She looked at Snape, wondering what would happen next.
"What are you waiting for, Miss Granger?" His words were sharp and harsh. A bit of the sneering Snape she was used to had returned, apparently. She wondered strangely if his harsh expression was a sham to cover his emotions. She didn't know why she suspected this. She could imagine that he was possibly annoyed at getting involved in this matter. He didn't like her. It was clear to her that his feelings of guilt over being head of the house of her tormentor were the driving force behind his desire to help her.
With a sigh she got up. With a wave of his wand, Snape released the lock from the door which clicked loudly. Turning back just before she reached the closed door, Hermione looked at her potions professor. She felt her emotions in a jumble and her eyes filled with tears. She'd been promised that her torment would end and this glorious possibility was turning her inside out. She had no reserves left with which to hold herself back. She couldn't help what she wanted to do. What she had to do. "Professor..."
Quickly scurrying back to where he sat, Snape watching her all the while with a apprehensive expression on his face, Hermione leaned close, almost in his lap, and kissed him on the cheek, whispering, "Thank you, Professor."
Turning back, she was startled to see that the classroom door was now open and that Ron stood in the doorway, an expression of disbelief on his face. As if in slow motion, the jar of Tanice leaves he was holding fell to the ground with a loud smash.
Later, in her dormitory, Hermione sighed into her pillow. What else could go wrong? She had ignored Ron's heated and demanding questions on their way back to Gryffindor tower. He'd said cruel words to her, but that wasn't unexpected. She'd been called a slut for a while now and she was used to it. He'd said more nasty words about Snape and had threatened to go to Dumbledore about the "pervy pedophile." At this, Hermione had stopped in her tracks, and grabbed Ron by the front of his robes. She had wished so desperately that she were taller, but with a hard wrench she had managed to pull a shocked Ron down to where she could glare at him. "Ronald Weasley. You will do no such thing! You will continue to mind your own business. And I mean it! Don't think I don't."
Ron looked stunned and she was very glad that she'd rendered him speechless. She released him, grumbling, "Honestly, Ron." She'd then hurried on to Gryffindor tower and the safety of her dormitory.
She wondered why she had kissed Snape. It would cause no end to trouble, she knew. If she hadn't done it, Ron wouldn't be in another uproar of suspicion. She'd just suddenly felt so... so... grateful, she decided. It wasn't strange to be grateful of the man who saved you, was it? She huffed inwardly. Grudgingly she admitted to herself that he hadn't actually saved her yet. Even the quiet hope that it would be soon over... That she would no more have to suffer the depraved touch of Draco Malfoy... It felt like being thrown a lifeline just in time to save her from drowning.
Finally Hermione could think no more, lying in her four poster bed, her mind and body exhausted. Sleep came to her in an irresistible wave. As her mind drifted off, she only hoped that it would be a peaceful sleep for a change.
Malfoy's face was in hers, filling her vision, close enough that she could see the pores of his sallow skin even in the dim light of the dungeon. Her naked body was pressed hard against the stone floor, stone no longer so cold due to the contact of her body. She was so tired, her limbs wooden and unbendable. The curses Malfoy had cast sapped her strength and residual throbbing pain washed over her body unendingly. Malfoy was still toying with his wand, an instrument as pale and evil as he was, she noticed ruefully.
But the curse she thought was forthcoming was not. "I'm bored with this game, Granger. Care to start another?" Malfoy's sneering face was grinning now. How could he have the energy to continue this torment?
He put his wand down. For a brief moment she thought about grabbing it but knew it would be futile. Unless she was willing to kill Malfoy, cursing him would do her no good. And as much as she longed to kill him, she didn't know for certain that she could do it. Did she have it within her to take another human life? Even a life as vile as this one was? Even so, would her magic powerful enough? It wasn't as if she was off practicing killing curses regularly. Of course she knew of the unforgivable killing curse, but she doubted she'd be able to cast it successfully. There were other ways to kill with magic, she knew, realizing with a hint of regret that she didn't feel particularly confident with any of them.
Malfoy hauled her up against the desk once again. Bruised and tired, she cried out in pain as bruised flesh met sharp corners and demanding hands pawed at her again. The more she flinched and yelped, the more her tormentor's excitement grew. Hermione could feel him pressing into her hard. She tried to close off her mind and ignore the pain that was titillating him so, but she couldn't. The sheer revulsion she felt prevented it. His hands roamed her body. Unexpectedly, he turned her and pushed her forward against the desk, so her upper body was bent over the wooden surface.
"This way I don't have to see your ugly face, Mudblood," he laughed as he entered her from behind, thrusting hard and painfully. She was pinned down, her hands pressed against its smooth surface instinctively to try to push herself off but his weight and strength holding her tightly in place. She couldn't move, helpless to this violation. After being used by him so many times, the pain of his penetration was not as bad as it had been. She waited for it to end, hoping that this must be the last activity of the evening. Even Malfoy couldn't continue this indefinitely, could he?
After a few moments his thrusting stopped and he pulled out of her. Was it over? She felt relieved that it had ended. But something was nagging at her as Malfoy held her pinned against the desk. She hadn't felt him climax - hadn't heard the grunting cry and the shuddering exhale of breath she had come to long for if only because it signaled an end. Something wasn't right. He wouldn't stop for no reason. He had something else in mind. Hermione started to feel very much afraid. The very short lived relief she had felt was shattered as she realized his intentions. Shattered by something that she had never before even imagined. She fought harder against the violation that she knew was coming, but it was no use. She couldn't move. The pain, when it came, was dreadful. She screamed out in the sudden shock of it. It felt as though he was splitting her in half.
With a scream, Hermione woke up, fighting the bedclothes that were strangling her. It took several long moments to realize that this was a dream, or rather the reliving of a memory through dream. She sobbed in relief of being alone in her bed in the girl's dormitory and not back in the dungeons being sodomized by Draco Malfoy.
"There she goes again," she heard Lavender groan from the next bed. "Give it a rest, Hermione. We'd like to get some sleep."
Hermione tried to calm her breathing. She still felt like screaming. Why wouldn't her brain give her some peace? On this night of any she should be feeling hope for the future and not dread of the past. She found sleep elusive for the remainder of the night, jolting awake in sudden fear of the dreams that might overtake her.
Snape didn't call for her all the next day. Hermione grew worried, desperate to know what was going on but she didn't dare leave Gryffindor tower. It wasn't safe for her to be out. She knew she could no longer play her part if she ran into Malfoy. When there was a knock at her door during the dinner hour, she was startled. It couldn't be Malfoy, here in Gryffindor tower, could it?
"Who is it?" she asked.
"It's Harry. Can I talk to you, Hermione?"
She contemplated saying no but something made her open the door. "Come on in, Harry." She stood aside to let him enter. She didn't care one jot about breaking the rules anymore.
Harry sat down awkwardly on Lavender's bed, which was strewn with spare robes, flowery scarves and back issues of Witch Weekly. It looked like he was trying to bring himself to speak. She said nothing, waiting.
"Hermione, what's this stuff with Snape? Ron said you were alone with him in the dungeons for detention last night. He said he came back and the door was locked. Then he heard it unlock, and when he opened it he saw you... kissing Snape." He looked at her with a sideways glance. "He wants to go to Dumbledore, you know."
Hermione sighed. "Why don't you ask me right out, Harry?"
His expression was surprised. "Ask you what, Hermione?"
"If I'm having sex with Snape, of course. Like I'm sleeping with Malfoy, and if you hear Ron tell it, Crabbe, Goyle, and the rest of Slytherin house. Hermione Granger, Slytherin Slut, at your service. Care for a shag, Harry? I'm sure Ron will have told you I'll go for anything in trousers."
"Hermione, I don't believe those things. Well, except for Malfoy. Which I wouldn't believe at all if I hadn't, er, seen it with my own eyes. I know you're not... you're not that kind of a girl, Hermione. Still, that doesn't explain the thing with Snape. You have to admit that it is extremely suspicious the two of you being alone in the dungeons with the door locked. Is he - hurting you? Is he making you do things with him?"
"I've told Ron its none of his business and now I suppose I'm telling you that as well, Harry."
"That's not good enough, Hermione. I can't sit back with this. Something bad is happening here. I want you to tell me or I will go to Dumbledore."
Hermione felt a sudden fear stab through her. She was so close to being through with all this. Snape had promised her. She didn't want it to come out now. The humiliation if everyone knew. Dumbledore... The other Gryffindors... Harry... Oh my God, Ron... "Harry, I'm fine. There is no call for you to be involved."
"Hermione, I think you know me better than to believe that I'll stay out of this."
"It'll be over soon enough, Harry. Just wait a little longer, won't you? I need more time." Hermione pleaded with a desperation she hoped did not show as much as she felt it.
Harry shook his head and stood up. His voice was deadly serious. "No. I want the truth and I want it now. That's all there is to it."
Hermione thought for a long moment, indecision throwing her brain into a quandary. She was really beginning to feel like a puppet. She had no ability to make her own decisions anymore. Why was this happening to her? She wanted to scream... to shout... to swear and curse... to break things!
Her anger had flared hotly but quickly receded. Could one get used to being a pawn, she wondered sadly. Was free will overrated? Did she even care anymore? Drawing a shuddering breath she began to tell her tale for the second time in twenty four hours. Surprisingly it came out easier the second time. She was almost matter-of-fact as she described her coerced liaisons with Malfoy.
Harry listened intently, pacing about the room, his face reddening in anger and disgust. When she had mostly finished he interrupted her, his green eyes flashing. "Why didn't you come to me, Hermione? Why did you think you had to handle this all on your own?"
Suddenly there was a rustle of cloth and Ron appeared in the room, Harry's invisibility cloak slithered to the floor. His face was very red and he looked angry. "Why didn't you tell me, Hermione. You let him... you let him hurt you like that?" He made a sound like a strangled cry.
Ron had heard all that? She could have kicked herself for being so stupid. She'd let Harry in the room and obviously Ron had followed him in secretly under the invisibility cloak. She turned on Harry. "How could you!"
"We're both so worried about you, Hermione. I thought Snape was hurting you. He's a teacher, Hermione. I couldn't allow it to go on. I knew if I threatened to go to the headmaster that you would have to tell me. I knew you wouldn't want to talk to Ron. So we had to do it this way, don't you see?" Harry paused for a minute. Ron was looking at Hermione with an expression that she thought must be revulsion or disgust.
"Why didn't you trust us, Hermione? We could have helped you."
"You don't understand, Harry. I couldn't take the chance. My parents' lives were in jeopardy. And Malfoy threatened both your and Ron's families if I let anything slip to you. I know you don't care for the Dursleys, Harry, but I don't think you would want them to be killed. And I love Mr. and Mrs. Weasley so much. I couldn't be responsible for that. Not after what happened to Seamus."
"And how, exactly, is Snape involved?" Ron asked in a demanding tone.
"He sort of... accidentally found out," she admitted, definitely not wanting to go into the story of how she had thought Snape was going to force her to sleep with him. "He's promised to help me. He feels guilty because Malfoy's in his house and he didn't know what was going on. He says that I don't have to do it anymore. It's all over as soon as we can make sure my family's protected - and yours, Ron, and yours, Harry."
"You were kissing him, Hermione." Ron's voice was a low growl.
She glared at the boys. "Snape hasn't hurt me and if you insist on knowing why I kissed him - er - well, I don't know for sure. I suppose I'm grateful to him for helping me."
"What's he going to do?" Harry asked.
"I've no idea. He's told me to stay here until he calls for me."
"I think we should go to Dumbledore," Ron said.
"It's too dangerous - we have to wait. We have to be careful."
Ron swore, "Hermione, I'm through with being careful. I'm going to find that arrogant, smarmy, sodding bastard and he's going to be sorry he ever so much as glanced in your direction. If he lives to be sorry, that is."
Hermione let out a scream - primal, signaling the utter depths of her agony. Ron stopped his frantic pacing and both boys looked up in shock.
The door was flung open and a stern-faced McGonagall entered. "What is going on in here. Miss Granger, are you all right?"
Hermione blinked, looking blankly at her transfiguration professor.
"You boys are not allowed in the girls dormitory. I would have thought that would be perfectly clear after six years of school here. What are you doing in here?" Her gaze was suspicious.
"Just... er... just talking to Hermione, professor." Ron managed to stammer.
"And the screaming?" McGonagall's eyebrow raised skeptically.
"It was nothing, professor. I was just frustrated. You know how boys are. Thick and stupid and they never listen. They never," she looked at them with a cold expression, "stop to think that what they're doing may have consequences. They just blunder ahead with no regard for other people." She hoped they caught her meaning.
"If I had time to investigate this further I would, but Professor Snape wants to see you, dear. He's asked me to fetch you right away. It sounded urgent. You aren't in any trouble are you?"
"No, Professor."
"Well, we'd best not keep him waiting then. He looked like he was in quite a temper."
With that, McGonagall lead Hermione from the dormitory. Harry and Ron stared after them.
- 13
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