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Embracing My Very Own Darkness	By : TheTVJunkie Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 44434 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Harry Potter' or anything related to it. There's no money made of my stories; all my works are written for entertainment purpose only!

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
A/N: Sorry for the super long hiatus, dear readers! What can I say...real life has the nasty habit of coming in the way all the time*grumbles* But be assured, no matter how long it will take and how many months it will be before another update, this fic will be finished! So simply stick with me, please. ;)
As usual, a big thanks goes to my faithful beta-reader GabbyFreak/WolfInTheShadows. :) You're awesome, dearie! *bows*
So, without further ado, on with the story.

The flames of Severus' bedroom fireplace crackled softly when the greenish shimmer announced Hermione's eventual return from Malfoy Manor. The young woman tip-toed across the room, careful not to make any noise and wake Snape but to no avail. The rustle of sheets made her freeze in place as the Potions Master's silky voice washed teasingly over her.
"Back at last, Miss Granger?" There was an almost reproachful edge to his drawled question which made Hermione frown.
"Yes, I am back and no worse for wear." She replied defiantly but after looking down on herself she added feebly. "...I think."
Severus furrowed a brow and bit back the snide remark that was reflexively forming on his lips. Giving Hermione a closer look, she indeed looked like the proverbial rag doll. Her Gryffindor uniform hung in tatters around her bruised and partially badly scratched body, hair all tousled and a respectable mixture of dried blood and cum stains was sticking to several parts of her feminine physique.
Oh yes. Lucius had put her quite through the wringer, of that was Severus sure.
"Umm..." Hermione sheepishly broke the silence. "Well, when I think about it...I might appreciate some of your healing potion." Now that she was finally coming down from her high, the last remnants of sexually evoked adrenaline and endorphins leaving her, every part of her body seemed to be aching and a demanding exhaustion crept upon her. All she cared for right now was a quick shower and a warm, fluffy bed.
"Help yourself." Came the professor's clipped reply as he waved lazily in the direction of his stores. For a few moments he had considered denying Hermione her request. Why not let her suffer the physical aftermath of her little adventure? Thanks to the oath they would only be temporary after all...and yet he decided against it out of an impulse. Feigning disinterest nonetheless, he rolled to his side and gave the spent young woman the cold shoulder. "I take it you recall where to find them?"
"Yes, I remember." Hermione nodded gratefully and trudged through the room, across the study and headed for the professor's private stocks.
The door opened with a heaving creak. Stepping into the dim-lit room, Hermione carefully rummaged through the vast amount of crystal phials, pickled creatures and little boxes, looking for the tell-tale vibrant glow of the turquoise healing potion.
Oh my. It seems nobody has been properly dusting here in a loooong time. That surely wouldn't have happened ten years ago...
She mused to herself as she brushed away a few cobwebs from one of the higher shelves.
Ah, there it is!
Hermione reached her hand out for the desired phial when all of a sudden the faint sparkle of another little bottle caught her eye. Crimson threads permeated the otherwise silvery liquid as they swirled about like floating drops of blood. There was only about a fingerbreadth of fluid left in the fragile flask.
An exciting suspicion hit her when the curious former Gryffindor took it from its place at the furthermost corner of the shelf, gently blowing away the thick layer of dust that had settled on the item during the course of time.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat when it eventually revealed its labelling.
'Tragwyddol Gwyryfdod' it read, written in Snape's distinctive handwriting. No Latin or English translation, no bells and whistles regarding the artistic design of the label. And yet it did not fail to make Hermione gasp as she instantly recognised it as the professor's fatal brew she recalled from Lucius' memories of the Dark Revels. The one that had saved Voldemort and his perverse bunch of Death Eaters from the 'lack of virgins' as Malfoy had put it.
Merlin's ass. It still exists!
The baffled young woman almost dropped the precious phial when Professor Snape's annoyed voice made her snap out of her thoughts.
"What in Merlin's name takes you so long in there?" He snapped at her from the bedroom.
"Nothing! I'll be right there!" Hermione called back nervously, hastily putting back the delicate flask and swiftly grabbing the healing potion from a lower shelf. Hurrying back to the bedroom she tried her best to hide her excitement when yet another realisation hit her.
Oh bollocks.
Waving the healing potion, she re-entered Severus' bedroom. Snape shot her a vexed glare.
"Here, I found it. Thanks for letting me have it." Hermione said genuinely. She was rewarded with a subdued snarl in return. "Ummm...may I be as impudent as to ask for yet another favour, Sir?"
"Provided that this will eventually allow me to go back to sleep..." The professor rolled his eyes. "Spill it, Miss Granger."
"Well...you see I have just realised that I left my wand in my room since I wasn't allowed to bring it to the manor." She blushed at the recall of the events there. "Hence, I don't see myself able to...refresh myself."
"I don't recognise a request in this." Snape replied, obviously growing impatient. "Clarify."
Hermione sighed. "I mean that I'm either asking for permission to use your shower or you take care of the issue by magic." She shot the mantelpiece a quick glance. "Besides, I have noticed that you seem to have run out of floo powder which leaves me to the rather embarrassing task of having to scurry back to my room both in the middle of the night and by foot at that. I'd rather not bump into Filch and raise unwanted suspicions, you know. So, to put it in a nutshell, Sir, I wondered if I might spend the rest of the night in your bed, preferably clean." Hermione smiled smugly. "I promise I'll be a good girl and go right to sleep."
Severus snorted and reached for his wand, which sat on the night table. "As if you could handle me after your former encounter..." A small smile ghosted over his lips whilst he waved his wand and ridded Hermione of her shredded clothes, leaving her butt-naked but crisp-clean as well. "Hit the sheets, Miss Granger." He purred.
The curly-haired woman nodded her thanks and downed the healing potion, stretching luxuriously when the soothing healing effect kicked in almost immediately, taking away the several aches but leaving the physical remnants like scratches, bite marks and bruises.
That and the crested butt plug that still sat neatly between her ample arse cheeks.
Hermione had almost forgotten about it since literally every part of her had been aching but now that there was no other distraction she was suddenly very aware of the intrusion in her rear end. Jerking, she felt it grow slightly, not overly painfully but persistently nevertheless.
Circe! How am I supposed to make it through tomorrow with this blasted thing steadily growing???
She hurried to Severus' bed, swiftly slipping under the covers. With another flick of his wand, the lights and fire died down, engulfing the Potions Master's bedroom in almost utter darkness.
Mutely, she turned onto her side and cuddled herself up into the blanket, not able to deny the excitement about her latest discovery in the potions store room.
So, like every great inventor, the professor did keep a sample of the virgo aeternalis potion, fatal invention or not. Hm.
If she was honest with herself, Hermione couldn't even blame Snape for keeping a tiny rest of it. The cruel purpose left aside, it was quite an invention after all. Difficult to be proud of, but a testimony of remarkable skill nonetheless.
And then a bold little idea started forming in her head.
However, the natural aftermath of Hermione's erotic adventure began to take its toll. Heavy eyelids and increasingly relaxing limbs, thanks to the efficient healing potion, put an end to further pondering on the exhausted young woman's part. Before long Hermione lay curled up like a kitten, a silent snoring indicating that she was sound asleep.
But the dark wizard next to her wasn't sleeping. Turning his head a little, he watched Hermione's sleeping form surreptitiously from the corner of his eye. His sensitive nostrils flared as he inhaled the distinctive odour of Hermione's tousled locks. Despite the cleansing spell Severus could still make out a faint remnant of Lucius' unmistakable scent on the sleeping girl.
An intoxicating mix indeed.
Growling silently to himself, the professor turned to the other side, facing away from her. Two very contrary thoughts were heavy on his mind. On one hand, he couldn't be happier with Hermione's 'responsiveness'. Rough and kinky was not every woman's cup of tea after all. Let alone to the degree Hermione was addicted to it. And now she was even more than willing to participate in a kinky threesome with both him and his long-term friend and lover. Could any man ask for more?
On the other hand, however, it was bugging him greatly that Hermione had been taking so much pleasure in indulging in Lucius' memories of the revels. Not that he could blame her for succumbing to the idea of a ménage-à-trois per se, Severus knew Hermione never stood a chance against Lucius' devious little manipulation. No, it was the girls' twisted romanticising of the utterly disturbing facts she had witnessed via the pensieve that bothered him. Her cold indifference as the once caring and empathetic Gryffindor head girl decided to simply ignore the lot of broken bones, mutilations and other abominable sort of abuses that have been inflicted on the less than willing participants during the 'Dark Revels'. That she was so bluntly blocking out these atrocities and instead indulged herself in the arousing sexual frenzy the situation had held, willingly losing herself in the morbid appeal of yet another abusive assault...
"Hm. Something in her past must have had shaken her confidence greatly to make her morph into this cold-hearted, self-destructive and decidedly selfish shadow of her former self." The professor pondered for a second but an inner voice chided him quickly.
No. This is none of your business. And remember...she tricked you too.
Severus couldn't help but be peeved by yet another fact. Thanks to Hermione's quick-witted alteration of the original oath, the surprisingly cunning witch had managed to obtain a 'I ask and you shall answer truthfully' stipulation from Lucius Snape was not at all happy about. That bloody cart blanche had given Hermione a lot of delicate insight into parts of Severus' life he considered exclusively private.
A dangerous line that the little know-it-all had crossed all too naively.
Hence, regardless of her clever move deserving credit, the dark wizard decided to put the dampers on Hermione's vested interest.
Dark Revels she wanted? Dark Revels she should get. In all its ugly reality...

The next evening Hermione was nervously pacing the floor in front of Severus's fireplace. The appointed time was near and no sign of Snape so far.
Blimey, I hope he hasn't changed his mind about accompanying me to the manor?
Hermione closed her eyes in refusal against this disappointing possibility and it wasn't long until an unmistakable bunch of deliciously naughty images popped up before her inner eye again. Images which had been giving her quite a hard time during the day. Literally. Even though the excited young witch was glad to find out that the plug in her rear end caused no sanitary problems whatsoever, she soon learned that there was a side effect to that evil toy apart from the two-hour-interval she knew about. A side effect which Lucius hadn't deemed necessary to mention the other day.
Cunning bastard.
As if by command, the crested, silver device which sat ever so firmly between her bum cheeks twitched, increasing in size once more. Beyond its regular 'growing cycle' and solely induced by Hermione's state of arousal and impurity of thoughts. The first time that this had happened this morning had left Hermione gasping for air, wondering what she might have done wrong to cause this effect. The second time it had happened the clever witch had had a vague suspicion since she had been daydreaming in gleeful anticipation of what was about to come this night, just seconds before the additional expansion. The third time this horrid instrument of sweet torture increased out of line, it was no longer a big brainer to connect the dots, making Hermione realise in shock that the hornier she got, the bigger the device grew in immediate response. For a while she had desperately tried to keep calm and put her mind off of the matter but how was she not to not to respond while having her arse gradually stretched? A waste of time and effort.
Many thoughts had crossed Hermione's mind that day and it unnerved her greatly that she never knew for sure if that toy had been applied on her for plain torture or to actually help prepare her little pucker hole for the real thing, Merlin help her. Hermione was confused. As it seemed, Malfoy was often doing the right thing for the wrong reason. Or wasn't he?
Absent-mindedly, the witch reached for the floo powder on the mantelpiece when a little phial caught her eye.
Oh my. Could it be possible?
With shaky hands, she unfolded the tiny scroll next to it. It read 'Make sure to drink this before leaving.' Hermione gave the little bottle a closer look and wasn't really sure if to be relieved or disappointed when she realised that it was not the substance she had suspected it to be. Instead of the devilish mix of silver and crimson, the liquid substance had a faint blue colour and the label had the plain words 'Drink me' printed on it.
Hm. Very Alice-In-Wonderland-ish. An extra strong contraceptive potion maybe?
It was just then when the ominous chimes of the grandfather clock sitting in the far corner ended the tense witch's train of thought. Lucius' words regarding punctuality rang in her ear, so Hermione hastily downed the content of the phial credulously. She then grabbed a handful of floo powder, tossed the substance into the fireplace, stepped in and whispered in a croaky voice. "Malfoy Manor."
The flames flashed in their distinctive green colour, engulfed Hermione's small, school-uniform clad frame with an angry sizzle and sent her on her way.

"Just in time, dearie." A slightly annoyed voice greeted her the moment she stepped from the elaborate fireplace at Malfoy Manor. Looking around, the witch was a little perplexed to find herself in a room of the stately home she was not familiar with yet.
Yeah, Granger. There are probably a hundred rooms more you don't know about, silly! Malfoy Manor is vast, to say the least...
Even though the room was only scarcely lit, Hermione could make out an abundance of beautifully ornamented pillows piling in all sizes and shapes, an enormous, fluffy carpet adorning the otherwise cold marble floor. If it hadn't been for the prominent Chesterfield-like furniture and other, distinctively British pieces of interior equipment, the excited young woman would have mistaken this room for a setting of 'A Thousand and One Nights'. What confused her most, though, was the lack of...a bed.
"Good for you." The blonde wizard stated matter-of-factly, thereby snapping her out of her reverie as he rose gracefully from one of the elegant wingback chairs nearby. To her shame, Hermione felt her treacherous body respond instantly and an involuntary moan escaped her lips. She shuddered slightly when the according pang of stretching in her rear end kicked in. Lucius arched a brow as he elegantly strode up to Hermione, stopping close to her.
"Now now, my dear mudblood." His lips curled into an amused smile as the aristocrat looked down at her. "Do I sense some unexpected Pavlovian conditioning here?" His smirk grew wider. "Drooling like a puppy at the expectation of imminent feeding?"
Hermione's cheeks burned with indignation. She hated to admit it but Lucius had a point here. Much like Pavlov*, Lord Malfoy had the witch almost literally drooling at his very sight, indicating for her that she was about to be 'fed'.
What a pun!
The flustered witch inwardly snorted at the ambiguity.
Now when the fuck did that happen?
"I can't help but be touched." Lucius mocked. "Or..." He reached around Hermione, softly trailing his fingertips down her spine, just to stop just above her tailbone and then abruptly retreat. "Is there something else causing this immediate effect?" He asked duplicitously, taking a step back to revel in the sight of the witch's highly flushed face.
Recovering her voice, Hermione spoke defiantly. "You know pretty well about this 'something else' and the distracting little side-effect you didn't care to mention."
He sneered in response as he reached behind her once more. "All the more fun."
Hermione was heaving a sigh and squeezed her eyes shut when she felt the torturous little device being removed from her derriere agonisingly slow. Her limbs went rigid when the widest part eventually passed the strained outer ring of muscles, the final little plopping sound adding an even deeper shade of crimson to the young woman's face.
"Tsk tsk, what a distracted little Gryffindor you must have been in the last twenty-four hours..." Lucius purred as he gently tilted her chin, causing Hermione to blink. "Purity of thought certainly isn't your forte, is it dearie?"
A smug smile playing on his lips, Malfoy let the crisp clean silver plug dangle in front of her eyes, Hermione holding her breath as she became fully aware of how much the device had indeed expanded while it had been inside of her.
Swallowing hard at both the realisation and the scoffing, Hermione frowned petulantly. "Oh really? I wonder how pure your thoughts would be with..." The offended witch stopped mid-sentence, dumbfounded at the abrupt awareness that the unashamed bon viveur in front of her wasn't above making this experience himself. Probably already had. Maybe even frequently...
Hermione's thoughts went wild at the very idea and as she looked the elder Malfoy in the eye, the sudden sparkle she found there gave answer to her unspoken question.
"With this remarkable little instrument up my arse?" He ended the sentence for Hermione, drawling every word with relish as he winked at her. Lord Malfoy then pressed his venerable family crest on the flared end of the plug and Hermione watched motionlessly as it slowly vanished into thin air before her very eyes.
He smirked at her complacently. "No purer than the next guy's, I assure you."
Hermione swallowed again.
Was there no limit to the sexual depravity of one Lucius Malfoy?
"Which reminds me..." Lucius continued, snapping Hermione out of her reverie. He shot the heavily ornamented grandfather clock a glance as it chimed a quarter past seven. "Why didn't you bring Severus?"
"Ummmm....He wasn't anywhere to be found when I left for the manor." Hermione shrugged, almost apologetically. "I don't know what kept him."
"Don't worry about it." Lucius said, guiding Hermione to one of the wing chairs in front of the fireplace. "I'm sure he'll be here any minute now. Have a seat." He spun on his heel and headed towards the adjacent room. "This gives me just enough time to let the house elves know that their services won't be needed anymore today." He briefly looked back over his shoulder. "Unless you feel like involving them into our little orgy?!"
Merlin, he really has a perverse delight in keeping on shocking me!
Hermione croaked a scandalised "NO! Definitely NOT!" in response and Malfoy rewarded her with a genuine laugh which echoed from the walls as he left the pretentious room. He hadn't even noticed but his blunt choice of words for the imminent 'get-together' had hit Hermione's nerve. Left to her thoughts, she slumped into the chair and started rubbing her temples as an inner voice chided.
An orgy. You're going to take part in a bloody orgy! Oh Hermione, whatever happened to you?
Whichever way she looked at it and no matter how hard she tried to come up with at least one reasonable excuse for her participation in this sexual excess other than baser human instinct gone mad, the witch had to eventually acknowledge to herself that it remained just what it was - an orgy. Plain and simple. Motivations be damned.
Too late for getting cold feet anyway...
Slumping into the chair, Hermione rubbed the back of her nose when a sudden sound made her jump and almost tumble over along with the wing chair. The flames in the head-high fireplace had flared up briskly, turning green with an audible crackle and out stepped Professor Snape in a rather dramatic whirl of robes.

A/N: Oh Lucius, you kinky bastard! *lol* And my my, Hermione is really in for it now, isn't she?!^^ I wonder what Severus is up to... *chuckles* Ok, I'm lying. I already know.^^ And so will you, dear readers. Soon.
Meanwhile, please let me know what you think and thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated.
* Ivan Petrovich Pavlov was a famous Muggle scientist who had managed to condition his dog to start drooling instantly whenever the psychologist rang a bell which indicated that the dog was about to be fed. This concept worked even if there was no food around, the sound of the bell alone triggered the automated salivary flow of the dog.
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Embracing My Very Own Darkness