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A World Not Fit To Live In	By : snowblind12 & Lissa Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 78125 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: These characters and the Harry Potter world belong to J K Rowling and her publishers. I make nothing from this story and I own none of it. It is based off the work of JK Rowling.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
BETA shout out to RaynePhoenix2!
Chapter Seventeen

Severus Snape sat behind the Headmaster's desk at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, thinking back on the previous evening with his … slave. His lips twitched in a half smile as his heartrate accelerated slightly.
Ginny Weasley had proved herself to be more of a surprise than Snape would have ever guessed. He had been the first to choose from the "spoils of war", as the Dark Lord had called it at the time. In that moment, Snape had had to Occlude heavily to avoid showing his absolute disgust when he had been presented with a gaggle of former … students.
Voldemort knew Snape's taste in women had never, ever strayed to the young witches in his care at Hogwarts, so Snape got the message. It was a reward laced with a hint of suspicion and punishment. Voldemort had not fully trusted his spy, and it had been a test. His only choice had been to play along.
He had walked up and down the line of young women – girls, really – and cringed internally at the thought of copulating with any of them. He hadn't realized it at the time, but he had been looking for Hermione Granger. It would have been awful, she would have driven him crazy, but having her as an eventual ally would have been very useful. When he had realized that she wasn't in the lineup, he had sighed, straightened his shoulders, and went through the line a second time. He made it appear as though he were giving careful perusal of each witch's … attributes.
Then his eyes had rested on her face. Pale skin with freckles, a slightly upturned nose, liquid brown eyes, and deep auburn colored locks. He had grabbed her arm roughly and spun her to face Voldemort before he had thoroughly thought through his decision.
He had been allowed to take her privately – unlike the horrific debacle that had been the debasement of Hermione Granger. His slave's degradation was about the potion – Voldemort had wanted it tested and the results recorded before he made any further decisions about prisoners. Granger's degradation had been about putting the resistance in his place; about having one of the Light's most glorified people and destroying her publicly.
Ginny Weasley had not been a virgin, much to his relief. Part of him hoped the bond would not take, and he felt sick when it had worked immediately and well. The girl had fought him tooth and nail with more spirit then he had given her credit for. In the end, he had had to restrain her in order to fuck her.
Rape her. You raped her, he reminded himself. Snape had to remind himself of this from time to time – it was necessary because these days he almost felt as if he were living in some sort of twisted fairy tale where he was the knight in black armor.
The first week of his and Ginny's … relations … had been awful. He knew that had this been a public transgression, he would have been expected to take her multiple times daily. Because he was allowed to test the potion in private, however, he waited until the bond pulled at him before he'd touch her.
The girl's fire and spirit burned hot, and while Snape was very much turned on by the aspect of non-consensual sex, it was the first time in his life that he had participated in a true rape. Oh, he had played games with witches. Games where the goal was to pretend she didn't want him, and he was to force her. In his world – where he was Master; where he was Dominant – it was just par for the course.
It was different with Ginny, though. He wanted her, he adored her spitfire personality, but he hated – hated – that it wasn't part of a game for her. That she truly reviled him. That she cried real tears when he took her against her will. Even making sure she reached her own pleasure time and time again had not helped him feel any better.
He had desperately tried to show her through his actions that he wasn't enjoying himself, that he didn't want to do this to her. He had been kind to her and made sure she had plenty of food, rest, and access to the bathroom and clean clothes. He had spoken softly to her, praised her bravery, and offered her hankies when she cried. At first, she didn't seem to notice these things.
Snape had explained how the potion worked and had commanded things of her when she had consumed it to make sure it worked. She followed the simple orders – orders such as put your hands on your head, dust the sitting room, don't touch these books. It was the orders that had given him away. Well, not just the orders. Snape hadn't actually been very subtle that he was protecting her when, during week two, Amycus Carrow had tried to have a go with the redhead. Snape had put his actual fist in the man's mouth proclaiming that he didn't share and forbidding Carrow to ever lay a hand on her again.
That night the force of the bond had grown to a terrible agitation. He had wanted to give her until the next day to somewhat recover from Carrow's attack, but he'd been unable to wait. It was the fourth time he had been forced to take her without consent, and she was fighting him just as violently as all the others, just as violently as she had fought Carrow earlier that afternoon.
Unexpectedly, she had frozen, her eyes flying wide with shock at her discovery. Her stillness had caused him to pause as well, and he looked down into her liquid chocolate colored eyes. "You don't want to do this, either." It had been a statement.
His hard expression had softened at her words. Minutely, he shook his head.
"Is that why you never order me to comply with you when you… Well…when you…you know…"
He didn't answer her, he had not spoken much to her at all the entire time she had been his. Tears had trickled down her temples into her hair. Her cheeks were flushed from their struggle for dominance and he held her hands above her head as he stretched out on top of her. His cock (which he'd had to take a potion in order to use properly) had laid heavy along her thigh. They were both breathing raggedly.
"Professor," she murmured. "Are you on our side? Are you still playing spy?"
He had closed his eyes in relief; she had been the first one to learn the truth. It had changed everything – everything. "Yes!" he had hissed and then he kissed her for the first time – and she had returned the affection.
It had been near eight weeks since the Defeat of Hogwarts, and his whole life had changed. Somehow, the change had been for the better even though the despot he called Master had prevailed. He had an ally for the first time, and Ginny had thrown herself into her role.
After the second week was over, he had told her about his sexual proclivities and that it would be expected of him to demonstrate the bond. Because his brethren knew of his inclinations for the world of BDSM and the Dominant/submissive relationship, they would be required to play the part. Much to her chagrin – and his utter delight – she responded more than favorably to the role of submissive.
That's when everything had turned from surviving to living.
Every moment of the day that he wasn't with her, he wanted to be. She was bright and witty, she laughed at his dry humor and was the first person he had known on the side of the Light that looked at him with eyes full of trust. He had been teaching her about the Dominant/submissive lifestyle and it was a pure pleasure to watch her blossom under his tutelage. Six weeks into their relationship, a month after she uncovered his ruse, she admitted to him that she didn't think she'd ever be able to return to the world of vanilla sex. Being a submissive had become a part of her as quickly and as desperately as she was becoming a part of him.
As the days continued, the trust turned to affection, then desire…and now. Snape swallowed heavily.
She had told him last night that she loved him.
Granted, it had been in the throes of passion. She had been wildly out of her mind with lust and desire. He had suspended her, flogged her, and edged her mercilessly. When he had entered her and allowed her to climax, she had screamed it along with his name and some choice expletives.
All day he had replayed the scene in his mind. Her body convulsing around his engorged cock, only the whites of her eyes showing as she shuddered beneath him screaming. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, Master. Oh, Severus. Oh Gods, fuck, I love you! I love you! I love you!"It would not leave his thoughts, but it was the first time anyone had said those three words to him. He had lived thirty-eight years never hearing them – and the way they had been said to him had been beyond perfect. The young woman who had screamed them was beyond exquisite.
Heaven and the gods help him, but he loved her as well.
Snape's attention returned to the parchment in front of him that was awaiting his signature. He muttered darkly under his breath when he realized the quill that he had suspended over the line had dripped. Wandlessly, he vanished the drops with a murmured incantation and scrawled his name. It was enough for the morning, he longed to return to his witch. They could have lunch together and talk.
With a sigh, he picked up his wand and warded the office door before turning and walking through the archway that hid the stairwell that would return him to his rooms. He almost smiled when he found Ginny sprawled asleep on the davenport with a book open on her chest.
Snape was about to kneel beside her and wake her when a loud CRACK! shattered the silence in the room. Ginny bolted upright with a shriek while Snape pointed his wand at the little elf that appeared.
"Tinny is most grievously sorry, she is, Headmaster Snape!" the ugly thing tittered. "Master Lucius Malfoy has sented me, sir. He's is needing help with Missy Granger, he is. She is very hurted. Master Draco was terribly … ohs! I's be not saying that, I's having to punish myself."
The poor little thing burst into tears and Snape couldn't help it when his thumb and forefinger came up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. He calmed immediately when he felt Ginny's presence at his side and her small, warm hand sliding around his wrist to lace her fingers with his. He dropped his other hand. "I am needed at Malfoy Manor?" he asked the elf.
"Yessir!" Tinny bobbed her head anxiously. "As quicklies as possible, Headmaster."
Snape turned to Ginny as the elf's crack of Disapparition filled the space. He was about to tell her that he would be back as quickly as he could, when he froze at the look of determination in her eyes. "I want to come with."
"We've talked about this, Ginny," he said quietly, smoothing a lock of hair behind one of her ears. "Lucius Malfoy is a dangerous man, and Draco has become completely unhinged."
"Please, Severus." Ginny grasped his wrist in one small hand and turned her face into his palm to bury a kiss on the sensitive skin. "She's my family; I want to be there," she pleaded, her voice was soft, but she couldn't hide the tremor of impending tears.
"Trust me on this, love," Snape implored her. "Draco is in the Manor, Lucius is asking for my assistance. You are safer here, I will make arrangements for you to see her soon."
She pressed her lips firmly together. It was obvious she was biting back her protests. He held her eyes calmly, knowing she would see his reasoning. Finally, she looked down and nodded obediently. "Alright," agreed. "Please come home soon."
"I will," he promised. Tilting her chin up, he settled his lips against her own. Heat coursed through him when she returned the gesture and he had to stifle a groan as she threaded her hands through is hair. Begrudgingly, he ended their connection. "Have some lunch while I am gone and continue studying your Occlumency."
"Yes sir," she gave him a small smile and he chuckled before pressing one last kiss to her forehead.
Snape went through the Malfoy's entrance floo minutes after Tinny had left him to find the elf waiting impatiently for him. Without ceremony, the little thing grasped his robes and Apparated them directly into a bedroom suite. The sight that greeted him was a shock in many regards.
Lucius sprung to his feet, a slight look of desperation marring his features momentarily before his expression smoothed. "Severus, thank you for coming in such a timely manner."
"Of course," Snape responded as his eyes shifted to the small young woman in the too large bed. He swallowed hard, feeling sick at the sight of her. Merlin's bloody bollocks – she looked awful. He had to Occlude heavily to maintain his composure. He abhorred men who felt beating women to put or keep them in their place was necessary. The thought of laying a hand on a member of the fairer sex like this made him physically ill.
He could tell from where he stood that she had sustained fractures to her orbital socket; those would be very delicate to mend. Snape moved closer to the bed. "What happened?"
"I only caught the end of their altercation," Lucius answered quietly. "Draco was holding her under the water in the pool, Miss Granger employed wandless magic – even though she had been ordered not to use it – to throw him off her. She coughed up an obscene amount of water before passing out. Tinny assisted me in getting her cleaned up and back to her room, but as you can see, the healing she needs is beyond my abilities."
"Why not call a Healer?" It was a valid question, but Snape was sure he knew the answer. Both he and Lucius were dancing around each other in attempts to figure out exactly where the other stood. Neither were ready to come out and share their thoughts, and Lucius was a good enough Occlumens to keep him out of his stubborn blond head. Snape was almost positive that Lucius would deflect if given the right information – if he had the right motivation. He suspected that Lucius had called him here not only to have him heal Granger, but to see his reaction to her injuries and witness his interaction with the girl.
If Snape was reading the older aristocrat like he thought he was, there was a chance that Granger could be the catalyst that swayed Lucius Malfoy to the Light. He knew the time would need to be just…right.
"He's been called here far too many times in the past few weeks," Lucius answered stiffly.
"I see."
"Can you…?" Snape watched as Lucius attempted to control his facial features while his sentence trailed off. He found himself very intrigued with the way his friend was watching the girl with guilt-ridden eyes. Lucius Malfoy's composure was crumbling…that was interesting. Very…very…interesting.
He pretended not to notice.
"Yes, I can fix her face," he said abruptly. "Send for your elf."
"Miss Granger," Lucius murmured softly as he gently pushed a curl out of her eyes. It was late-evening and Snape had left a few hours prior with instructions to let her sleep and to get a light dinner in her before having her sleep some more.
After Snape had returned to Hogwarts, Lucius instructed Tinny to stay with Hermione and call him if there were any problems. He had searched the Manor for Draco, only to find him gone. In all actuality, he was relieved his son had left – he wasn't sure what might have happened if he had found the boy. The state of mind he had been in had been deadly.
He had calmed some while he quilled a letter to Voldemort, not wanting the man to hear what had happened from anyone but he, himself. It would not do for Voldemort to think that Lucius was hiding information…it might make the tyrant more apt to look into his life more closely than he already was.
He had spent the afternoon catching up on some correspondence for ME and scanning some of the books Snape had recommended on Occlumency to figure out the best way to teach the girl. He needed her to learn to shut her thoughts off as quickly as she could. Her mind already held too many secrets for him to be comfortable. If she was called in front of Voldemort any time soon – they both might wind up dead.
"Hermione," he breathed while letting his fingers trace her brow line. The bones in her face were fixed, and the bruising was better but still awful. It was a mottled green and yellow fading into the normal peaches and cream complexion her skin held when it was unmarred.
Not only had Draco shattered her eye socket, he had detached her retina, ripped the left nostril of her nose and caused three molars to become loose in her jaw. Snape's diagnostics also had shown a mild case of whiplash from the force of her head snapping back with the hit…and a labial tear from his sexual assault. It had taken extreme effort for Lucius not to swear up a storm when Snape had explained calmly why he was lifting his charges robes.
Snape had been… captivating to observe. Lucius felt his guesses were correct, though he wasn't sure exactly what to do with the information he was gathering. He was sure Snape thought he had controlled his reaction to seeing Hermione battered and bruised as she was, but Lucius had seen a flash of disgust and fury in his eyes. When he had cast the diagnostic charms, the Headmaster had muttered darkly under his breath.
These actions, and the discussion they'd had following their last dinner together, had shown Lucius that Snape…for lack of a better term…cared for the girl. Or at least cared what was happening to her. Lucius knew that his own affection for Hermione Granger had slipped through his careful mask as well. Once upon a time, he and Snape had told each other many things about their lives and had shared many secrets. He considered the man his best friend – he was Draco's Godfather for Merlin's sake! He would just have to continue to be observant and to bide his time.
Heaving a deep, discontented sigh of indecision, Lucius picked up the jar of bruise paste from the bedside stand and applied another application carefully to the left side of Hermione's face. Her eyes fluttered, and a small smile curved her lips as his thumb smoothed the cream over her cheek bone.
"Hi," she whispered hoarsely and reached up to brush his face gently with her fingers.
What is the matter with you? he hissed at himself when his nose prickled as though he were going to cry. Instead he cleared his throat with a fake cough and responded, "Hello, Miss Granger." He felt like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar when her eyes met his. "It is time for dinner," he forced himself to say. "I had the kitchen elves prepare something light. You do not have to dress, we will eat in my rooms."
"Alright," she said, and winced as she attempted to push herself into a seated position.
"Be careful," he admonished, feeling like a ridiculous mother hen. "Here, I'll help you." He placed an arm around her shoulders and guided her upright before he pulled the blankets off her legs and helped her to the edge of the bed.
Lucius gave up assisting her about halfway across the room because her legs were wobbly, and she was leaning heavily into him. She assured him she was just fatigued and that she could make it, but he took matters into his own hands and swept her up against his chest.
His heart raced erratically when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, murmuring her thanks. She weighed next to nothing and his arms tightened protectively.
They entered his room seconds later and he immediately moved his gaze to the portraits. The landscapes were all empty for once, and he intended to keep them that way for the next couple of hours. He settled Hermione on the plush cabriole davenport before he pulled his wand out of his pocket and aimed it at each portrait in turn.
"What are you doing?" Her voice was cautious, but curious, and raspy from breathing in the pool water.
"Making it so the portraits cannot be entered by anyone other than those who are supposed to be in the frames," he answered while avoiding her gaze. "As I have no human portraits in this suite, we will be undisturbed this evening."
"Is that wise?"
He gave a low, mirthless laugh. "No, it probably isn't. I can't find it in myself to care this evening, however. It's not something we can do repeatedly, it will cause too much suspicion."
"I see."
Lucius chanced a brief glance at the girl. She was looking at her lap and was holding the edges of the lavender robe in clenched fingers and trembling slightly. Her face was pale under the lingering bruises. She looked older…and very, very tired.
"Are you cold?" he asked.
She met his gaze. "A bit," she responded. He hated how raw her voice sounded.
He pulled a soft throw off the back of a chair and gently placed it over her lap before stoking the fireplace in front of her.
"Aren't we going to eat?" She was confused. Lucius was too, for that matter. His affection for her through the afternoon had only continued to intensify. Her comfort was at the forefront of his mind.
"Yes," he answered. "Take this first." He fished a vile of potion out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. "It's a preventative, so you don't get pneumonia." He watched for a brief moment as she tipped the contents into her mouth before he turned his wand on the low coffee table and raised it to a height where it would be comfortable to eat from while sitting at the couch. Then he flicked the stick of elm at the dishes on the small dining table and levitated them in front of her before vanishing the silver covers.
There were two large crocks of chicken soup and a loaf of hot, crusty bread next to a dish of flower-shaped butter pads. Fruit, olives, and a variety of cheeses filled another platter. There were two goblets of iced water, two empty teacups, a steaming teapot, and a tray laden with tea fixings. It was a perfectly acceptable light meal.
He wasn't sure who was more surprised when he settled himself next to her, thigh to thigh, and started preparing her tea. She thanked him when he handed her the cup of hot Earl Grey and took a sip that was followed by a deep, contented sigh before she leaned very slightly into his side.
Neither said anything as he buttered a chunk of bread for her before he fixed his own tea and started in on the soup. It was a thick, creamy chicken with shredded carrots and had a nice flavor. He watched Hermione as she carefully spread her napkin in her lap and picked up her slice of bread. Her hands were shaking just slightly.
They ate quietly, snuggled up on the couch by the fire. Lucius had never done this before and was not sure why it had crossed his mind to have her stay put and bring the meal to her. He found himself loving it, however. The relaxed nature of the meal, the intimacy, and the warmth was comfortable, and he felt at ease.
He finished first and moved his arm, so it rested across the back of the couch behind Hermione. It caused her to shift and press herself more firmly to his side. He noticed her hands were shaking more now and that she was finished with her bread and had eaten some fruit and grapes but had barely touched her soup.
"Is the soup not to your liking?" he asked softly. Absentmindedly, the hand settled on the couch behind her sought her curls, tunneling through them to stroke the back of her head. She winced slightly, and he realized she might be sore. In his mind's eye, he could see the strands of hair Draco had ripped out of her head when her magic had pushed him away. He moved his fingers to a new spot, and she made a tick of pleasure in the back of her throat and leaned into him heavily.
"It's very good," she answered with a small huff of frustration, "but my hands are shaking, probably from fatigue. They won't stop. I'm afraid I'll get it all over."
Hermione tilted her head up to see his expression. He was looking down at her, and the expression in his eyes was thoughtful. Slowly, hesitantly, he answered her. "I will assist you, then." He couldn't believe he had said that out loud…he had never cared for someone like this before. He had never even fed Draco as a baby. Well…there was no backing out now.
Hermione watched him through wary eyes as he picked up the crock of soup in both hands before filling the spoon and raising it to her mouth. Her lips parted just slightly in completely surprise before she opened properly and allowed him to slip the spoonful into her mouth. The careful way he fed her the soup caused liquid heat to pool through her body. He watched her intensely, his eyes darkening with every mouthful, seemingly when her lips dragged back across the utensil to rid it of it's contents. It was the most intimate thing she had every done – no one outside of her parents had ever fed her like this before. Even then, it had been years upon years since they had spoon fed her.
His breath had changed and was just slightly heavier by the time the last bite was scraped from the bowl. Even with all she had been through earlier that day, she wasn't able to tamp down her attraction for him, or how it made her feel when he looked at her that way. She closed her eyes as he set the crock down and called for Bilby to clear the meal, just waiting for him to get up and leave her.
It shocked her when he settled back against the couch before he picked up his wand to summon his book from the nightstand. "Would you like me to summon yours, as well?"
"No, thank you," she murmured. "I'm content to just sit. Maybe I'll rest my eyes."
He didn't answer, just nodded, opened his book, and settled it on the arm rest next to him as he began to read. After a few minutes, she carefully rearranged the blanket over her lap, taking care to spread it over his knees as well as her own. Just before she sank into the back of the couch, Lucius put his arm around her and pulled her into his side. He buried his hand in her curls again and gently began rubbing her scalp, all the while never taking his eyes off his book. After another moment of surprise, she relaxed into him completely and rested her face in the indentation just below his shoulder.
She must have dozed, because the next thing she knew she was carefully being disrobed and laid out gently on the mattress. She watched him through her eyelashes as he stripped down to his boxers and made his way around to his side of the bed. She let out a slow, controlled sigh as he sat on the edge of the bed and flicked his wand. He appeared to be removing the charm from the portraits. Then he set an alarm to the tempus charm and doused the lights in the room before he placed the piece of wood on the nightstand.
He was arranging himself to fall asleep when the whispered words left her mouth without her permission. She just…needed him…needed his closeness and warmth. Needed to feel human presence. "Lucius?" she murmured.
He let out a low grunt, obviously surprised she was awake. "What, princess?"
"Will you…hold me?"
Their eyes locked in the dark, and for a moment she swore he was going to tell her no. To roll over and go to sleep, but he picked up the blanket and beckoned her closer to him. She moved, never taking her eyes off him. He settled on his back and allowed her to place her head in the crook of his shoulder and an arm around his waist.
The arm that she was laying on wrapped around her and his hand splayed over her hip, while the other moved and tilted her face up to his. "This was one of the nicest evenings I've had since this whole bloody war started." The honesty of his words left her breathless and she felt tears prickle her eyes.
"Me too," she answered truthfully. Her eyes closed when his lips descended on hers in a gentle, chaste kiss.
"Sleep, Hermione." He told her when he pulled away.
She did.
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A World Not Fit To Live In