Damaged Goods | By : shelia Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 7700 -:- 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. |
Part 18
"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." - Sherlock Holmes
Hermione rubbed her aching back as she left the greenhouse. Sweat rolled down her face and she wiped at it with a grubby hand.
“I do believe they are trying to kill us,” complained Tamara Jolsten, a third year Hufflepuff girl who had taken up with Hermione since the day Dumbledore had told them about the plans for the summer. Hermione had comforted Tamara when the girl had learned of her parents’ deaths and since then Tamara was never far from her. She didn’t mind though, for she enjoyed the younger girl’s company.
“Hard work is good for taking your mind off things,” Hermione told her. And they definitely are putting that saying to use, she thought.
Their first week of summer school had involved cleaning the castle and grounds along with the class curriculum. Filch had taken off the last day of term and the students had heard that he refused to spend the holidays putting up with a bunch of sniveling, mud tracking brats. A man had arrived the next day, supposedly a substitute caretaker, a bandy legged ginger haired man that seemed to be absent most of the time. So far no one had noticed him taking care of anything except the foul smelling pipe he always seemed to have in his mouth.
“Oh, I do need a bath,” Tamara bemoaned, grimacing at the dirt under her fingernails.
They were heading towards Hagrid’s now. Hagrid had left the day the students had, supposedly on a mission for Dumbledore once again. He had taken Hermione aside earlier that week to ask her to do a great favor for him. The favor turned out to be six Neo-Dire Wolf pups, which Hagrid had rescued from the forest.
Hermione had tried to reason with him that he couldn’t keep them. They were illegal creatures and would only get him into trouble if someone found out about them.
“They’re only babies,” he said gruffly, picking up one of the pups. “Can’t expect them to fend for theirselves can ye? Not with their momma being killed…”
She had ceded, especially as he put the pup in her arms. Illegal or not they were cute, and as with all puppies endearing, as the pup licked eagerly at her face. Hagrid had mixed up a foul smelling bag of food to feed them. Hermione and Tamara had been coming down to feed the pups three times a day and change the hay in the large box Hagrid had built for them.
Hermione fixed the food for the puppies, laughing as they dove into the dish feet first, one even managing to roll in it. Tamara helped her remove the old hay while the puppies ate and took it out the door.
Waiting for Tamara to bring in the fresh straw, Hermione picked up the littlest pup. He had managed to get the food all over him, even into his ears. Smiling broadly, she began wiping the mess off with a tea towel, when she heard the door open.
“I do believe these little guys are going to need a bath. Have you ever seen such a mess…” Her words faded as she saw the man standing in the doorway. Hermione gazed into the handsome, cruel face of her tormentor. Lucius Malfoy.
“Well, well,” Lucius drawled, his eyes racking over her with familiarity, sneering as he noted how grubby she was. “My little mudblood.”
She bent down slowly and put the pup down, then reached into her pocket, fingers gripping her wand, as she fought the memories that were beginning to flood over her in waves.
“What…what are you doing here?”
Lucius gave her a condescending look. “As a concerned Ministry patron, I thought it wise to see how this little ‘plan’ of Dumbledore’s was coming along.”
“Then perhaps you should go talk to the Professor McGonagall,” Hermione said, trying hard to keep the tremor from her voice. “How…when did you get out of prison?”
Lucius gave a bitter laugh. “Did you honestly think they could hold me? I was pardoned of all charges when a faithful Ministry employee explained that he had witnessed the intruders putting me under the Imperius.” He gave her a sly grin. “Of course it is a little embarrassing to admit I could not fight off that particular curse, but we all have our faults. I must say it was rather enjoyable watching the Minister begging for my forgiveness.”
Hermione’s mouth opened in a silent retort of disbelief. Lucius’ eyes shone as he grinned at her shock.
“I was disappointed Hermione, that you chose to ignore my invitation,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “Hiding out, are we? Do you think that being here would actually prevent me from coming for you?” His grin widened as he watched her back up until her back was pressed against the wall next to Hagrid’s massive bed. One of the pups growled.
Lucius looked down and sneered. “Keeping illegal animals, Hermione? Tsk, tsk. I would think that oaf that Dumbledore protects would have more sense after what happened last time.”
“They are only puppies…”
“Enough of the small talk,” he said sarcastically, “I do believe it is time for you to recognize your master. Come to me, little mudblood.”
Though she was starting to tremble, Hermione looked him squarely in the eye. “No.”
“Come here.” His voice was quiet, edged with authority.
“No, I will never let you touch me again.” She raised her chin defiantly.
“Is that so?” Lucius gaze fell on one of the pups. Raising his cane in one swift movement he brought the silver head down. There was a sharp crack and a yelp as the pup was tossed several feet where it lay motionless.
“You bastard!” Hermione pulled her wand out and stood there trembling, pointing it at his chest.
“That’s it little mudblood, attack me. A student attacking a Ministry official should be worth an expulsion from this so called school and there would be nothing your precious headmaster could do to stop it.” He laughed, his eyes glittering maliciously.
“Do it Hermione, give me a reason to take you from here. I owe you for all the trouble you have put me through.”
She was shaking so hard her teeth began to chatter and he smiled triumphantly.
“Come here,” he commanded once more, thumping his cane down on the floor.
Hermione took a step towards him, tears running down her cheek.
“Something I can do for you Malfoy?”
Relief washed over her and she felt her knees start to give way, barely catching the edge of the bed and sitting down.
Lucius spun around to see Bill Weasley standing in the doorway, his wand in his hand.
“A Weasley,” he said disdainfully. “The oldest one I take it. And what are you doing here?”
Bill started to tell him it was none of his business, but knowing it would only add suspicion he explained. “I am here as an instructor for a couple of weeks for the school.”
“Instructor?” Lucius sneered. “I cannot imagine a Weasley teaching anything except how to breed a pack of useless Muggle lovers.”
“And what are you doing here Malfoy?” Bill said, his voice cold and hard. He knew Lucius had been released from Azkaban but had not counted on him showing up at Hogwarts.
“The Ministry has every right to check on this school especially given the ‘circumstances’ to why it was conceived. As part of the Minister’s apology,” he smiled, enjoying Bill’s look of disgust, “I now have the authority to question and regulate things pertaining to this school. Really, this place is turning into an orphanage for mud…muggleborn students.”
“I suggest you check in with the acting headmistress then and not bothering students with your presence,” Bill told him, trying to control the anger that flared through him.
“Be careful boy, someone may take the cockiness out of you.” Lucius growled. Turning his head, he caught Hermione’s eye. “Until a later time then, Miss Granger.” He brushed past Bill, his cane clipping Bill’s leg as he left.
As part of the Order, Bill, along with Mundungus Fletcher, had volunteered to watch over the students and school the first three weeks of the summer. He was there under the pretense of being a guest instructor who with Professor Flitwick had started a dueling club for the students. Unlike the failed one of three years ago, they had already shown the students many defensive moves and spells. It had been Dumbledore’s idea, to train them under the pretense of the club.
The wards on the grounds had been increased and when someone approached the gates of Hogwarts they had to state their name and business. When the system had announced Lucius Malfoy was entering the grounds on Ministry business, Bill, Minerva, Mundungus and Flitwick had gone to the entrance hall to wait for him. After several minutes passed and Lucius had not appeared, they had grown concerned and Mundungus and Bill went to search for the missing Malfoy.
Bill had been crossing the grounds towards the greenhouses when a tearful Tamara Jolsten had ran up to him explaining that a blond haired man went into Hagrid’s hut where Hermione was and that she heard Hermione shouting at him. He had told Tamara to go back to the castle as he hurried towards the hut.
Breathing deeply now, Bill watched Lucius until he saw the man enter a side door in the castle. He heard a small sob behind him and he turned back to Hermione.
“Hermione are you okay?” he asked concernedly, noticing her wide eyes and her body trembling.
She didn’t answer him as she got up and went over to the lifeless pup. Stroking the soft fur, she gasped for air. “Poor little thing,” she choked. “I guess we will need to bury him.”
“Hermione, what happened?” Bill asked as he gripped her shoulder, pulling her up. He studied her face as he watched it crumple. Sobbing, she buried her face in his shoulder.
“What’s wrong? Did Lucius hurt you?”
Her hands flailed wildly and she mumbled incoherently. Bill’s arm tightened around her, as he started guiding her towards the door. “Come, I will take you to Madame Pomfrey.”
She pulled out of his embrace. “No, I will be alright. I shouldn’t have been so sensitive. He just made references to my heritage you know and then the pup…the pup…”
“Bloody bastard,” Bill swore vehemently. “Hermione, Malfoy had no right to do that, something will be done…”
“Bill, please don’t. The pup snapped at him, and…I guess he just reacted. It would only get Hagrid into trouble…you know… keeping illegal creatures.” She sighed heavily, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. “Just…please…don’t tell anyone alright?”
Bill studied her a moment knowing she was hiding something.
****
She felt the silk scarf tighten around her neck as Lucius laughed at her, invading her body for the third time that afternoon. “You are nothing but a little whore aren't you Hermione?” he teased, grinding his pelvis against hers for emphasis. She bit her lip hard, trying to stifle the moan that slipped out. Lucius chuckled once more.
“Good girls don’t enjoy what I have been doing to you. Only those who are rotten, bad, desiring the dark things in the night. You are a bad girl aren’t you?”
“ No,” she tried to gasp though the scarf around her neck was cutting off her air.
“ Do not lie to me. I can feel your response, how ready you are for me. I warn if you, if you enjoy it too much I will have to punish you. You want me to punish you, don’t you Hermione?” he drawled lazily into her ear as he slowly rotated his body against hers, knowing she was close to release. “If you don’t, then be a good girl and do not get off on what my body is doing to yours, deep inside you, touching places that shouldn’t be touched.”
A tear slipped down her cheek as she shuddered, her body betraying her. “For shame Miss Granger,” he said mockingly. “What would your friends say if they could see you now. So wanton. I am afraid I will have to teach you how to be a proper young lady.” he growled, pounding into her brutally as his hand holding the scarf pulled, tightening it until she could not breath, as the blackness descended over her…
Hermione woke, clawing at the neck of her nightgown, gasping for air. Looking around the empty dorm she grabbed her robe and bolted out the door.
Gasping for breath, she stopped before a door and began knocking on it frantically. Several minutes passed as her knuckles grew red, the echoes of her rapping fading in the empty hallway. Pressing her face against the cool wood she slid down to the floor. “Where are you?” she murmured.
****
It was past 2am when Severus strode down the hall, his thoughts dark at what Minerva had told him. Though he was staying Voldemort’s hideout in Scotland, working endlessly on the potions for the Dark Lord, he had Apparated to Hogwarts every third day to check in.
Damn Malfoy. Severus’ anger flared when Minerva had told him about the encounter between him and Hermione. Bill had told Minerva what he thought had happened, but she, like Severus, knew that there was much more to it than what Hermione had let on.
Severus had questioned Minerva about Hermione’s behavior since this afternoon. She reassured him that Hermione seemed fine, a little down, but normal. He was skeptical, yet hoped she was right in her assessment.
Stopping before the tapestry that hid the entrance to the secret passage, Severus was surprised to see the Bloody Baron approaching him. Slytherin’s ghost was a hideous creature, covered in silvery splotches, representing the blood that had splattered when he lost his life. Even in death, the hatred radiating from the ghost’s eyes could chill a person.
“Professor Snape, “ the ghost said in hollow, biting voice. “Perhaps before you leave, you should see to the girl that has been camped at your chamber door for the past few hours.”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “Girl?”
“Yes professor, she seemed most intent on seeing you. I do believe she has fallen asleep and I for one would like her removed.”
Not bothering to ask why the ghost wanted the girl ‘removed’, Severus hurried to his chambers, knowing that it was Hermione. Good assessment Minerva, he thought bitterly, hoping that she had not hurt herself again.
Slowing his pace as he neared his door, he saw Hermione, curled in a ball at the base of it. Walking lightly to her, he shook his head wondering why the child had came looking for him when she surely knew he hadn’t been there.
His eyes swept over her, assessing her for any signs of self-harm and he was relieved, as he saw none. She evidentially had been crying as he noted that her cheeks were blotchy and her eyelids swollen yet there seemed to be a peace surrounding her.
He started to call to her, to wake her up and tell her to return to Gryffindor. Instead, he crouched down and lifted her into his arms. Hermione stirred slightly but did not wake.
When he had reached the Fat Lady’s portrait, Hermione whimpered and cried out, her hands grasping at the neck of her gown, breathing in huge gulps as if suffocating.
“Hermione,” Severus said gently. “Shhh, you are safe, I have you.”
Her eyes fluttered opened a brief second, her eyes locking on his, relief clear in her brown orbs. “Professor?” She mumbled as her eyes closed once more.
“Yes, I have you,” he repeated soothingly, his arms tightening, pulling her closer to him as her hands gripped his robes.
Laying Hermione gently on a sofa in the Gryffindor common room, he stood there staring at her, his thoughts jumbled.
She came looking for me. The antagonist, who has done nothing but put her down and ignore her brilliance in favor of my own house. He shook his head at the irony of it.
He couldn’t shake the feeling of warmth that had flowed through him when she had looked into his eyes as he carried her. It was the look from the innocence of a child, trusting, in complete faith. How could she believe in anyone after what has happened to her?
The faith of a child…
It had been the children that had finally marked his decision to leave Voldemort. He had believed in Tom at first, the desire to make the wizarding world what it had once been before it was polluted by half-breeds and mudbloods. Too late Severus had realized the madness behind Voldemort, that he indeed wanted the wizarding world restored to power but only if it bowed to him.
The lure of the promises of power, family, and wanting to please his godfather, Severus had become entangled in the darkness. He had killed his first person before he had left Hogwarts and it had not bothered him.
Through the raids and deaths he had numbed his soul to what was truly happening. Until the children. He could justify killing a man or woman who opposed the plan of Voldemort’s uprising, could torture and maim without remorse, but the slaughter of the children, their faces bright with innocence he could not stomach and could not agree with.
Still he could not delude himself. In good conscience he knew that if things were different, if the tide turned, though he truly hoped it would not, the lure of self-preservation would be too great. He reluctantly admitted he would do whatever it took to be on whichever side won. He would not be so dishonest with his own soul to believe otherwise.
Then what will I be to her? A damnable traitor deserving only contempt. For some reason this thought grieved him more than the nagging voice that told him that he would always be a selfish bastard.
What am I doing?
Sighing he couldn’t deny it any longer. He did care for Hermione and it troubled him. Foolish, he thought, this child has enough to deal with without me adding to it. If certain individuals knew he cared for her, a mudblood, in whatever manner it would be used against him and only bring pain to her.
He stared at her a moment longer, then kissed her lightly on the forehead before he left.
****
Severus arrived at Hogwarts the next day before dusk. He wanted to talk with Hermione to make sure she was alright and though he wouldn’t admit it, he wanted to know why she had came looking for him. Questioning Minerva, he had been directed to the lake, where Hermione had went to work on a painting for the Arts class offered that summer.
He found her sitting in the shadow of a giant oak, a board across her knees, her face set in concentration as she looked at the scenery, then dipped a brush into a paint pot.
Standing several yards away, he stopped and studied her. Why was Lucius so determined to have her? It hadn’t been the first time he had pondered this though he felt no closer to the answer.
Severus knew that Lucius had originally taken Hermione because of Draco, his whining that a Mudblood bested him in every subject. Draco was intelligent and was close behind Hermione in grades. Severus suspected it was Hermione’s diligent study habits; her inquisitive mind to go the extra mile to learn that gave her that edge.
Her intelligence would not have interested Lucius, though Severus thought this the most appealing of her qualities. He relished in her eagerness to learn, to excel in his class and he was loathed to admit it, but he felt proud when she did.
She was comely enough but not beautiful. Her hair was thick and had a mind of its own giving her a tousled, disheveled look most of the time, and though her figure had begun to fill out she was still quite ordinary. Lucius’ taste and ego ran to the delicately beautiful whether it was men or women. During the revels he always chose the victims that complimented his own looks.
The thought came unbidden to him, and though it felt improper, it rushed through him. Could it be that she was that good in pleasuring a man? He almost growled as he pushed that idea away. Lucius wouldn’t know proper sexual pleasure if it bit him on the arse. Still, Severus couldn’t stop his body’s reaction at that most annoying thought.
Glancing towards the castle, she spotted him. She hurriedly placed a paper over her work as he neared, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“Professor.”
He crouched down beside her, his eyes studying her. “Miss Granger. I want to know about your encounter with Lucius yesterday.”
The flush in her cheeks deepened, as she fiddled with the brush she was holding, marking her hands with paint. “He was just being ostentatious, you know how the Malfoys are…”
Severus took the brush from her hands. “Tell me what happened Hermione,” he said softly, the silky voice caressing her.
“Really, it was nothing, just unpleasant.”
“I do not believe it was nothing, Hermione. Minerva told me that he killed one of the pups you were taking care of.”
Hermione looked at him and took a deep breath as she told him everything, a tremor in her voice as she relived why Lucius had killed the pup.
Severus’ brow furrowed and he was about to question her further, wanting to draw out her feelings, when a snowy white owl landed between them, holding its leg out to Hermione.
“Hedwig!” she said delighted, as she took the letter from her. Hermione stroked her soft feathers as Hedwig hooted softly. “I don’t have anything for you, but if you will go to the owlery I’ll bring something for you, along with the letter I have for Harry.”
Hedwig hooted, nipped Hermione’s finger and flew off towards the castle.
Smiling broadly Hermione looked up at Severus, her smile fading as she saw the look of disgust on his face. She glanced down at the letter she was holding, and then screwing up her courage, looked back at him. “Sir, may I ask you a personal question?”
“You may ask, Miss Granger, though I highly doubt I will answer it,” he said sarcastically, having an idea what she was on about.
“Why do you hate Harry so much?”
He grimaced. “I would say that ‘hate’ would imply that I have feelings towards Potter. He is not worth the effort that feeling anything would require,” he said coldly.
Hermione’s brow wrinkled and fire flashed in her eyes. “A simple ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ would’ve sufficed.” She bit on her lower lip not able to stop her flow of words. “But I would think that an intelligent person like yourself would be able to separate the fact that Harry is not his father. I can only guess that the dislike you have for his father stems from what I heard in the Shrieking Shack…”
“Foolish girl,” he snapped. “You only heard part of a story told from those who worshiped at James Potter’s feet. What I think or feel about Potter is none of your business.”
Glowering at him she retorted. “My great aunt once told me that the things one despises the most in others is the reflections of their own faults.”
Severus was on his feet, his face a mask of rage. “Inane Gryffindor sentimentality. Do not speak of things you know nothing about.” He turned to leave, his intentions of exploring what she had been feeling when she had came looking for him forgotten, but stopped as he felt her small hand on his arm.
“Please, I am sorry that I offended you. I just care about my friends and do not want to see them hurt.”
“Do not fear, I will not ‘harm’ your precious Potter, Miss Granger,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I was speaking of you,” she said quietly.
He was taken aback, staring at her as she continued. “I mean, bitterness can eat away at a person…but you are right. It is none of my business and again I apologize.”
Severus looked into her eyes, seeing his own reflection in their dark brown depths, then nodded. “Come, it is getting late,” he said, helping her to gather up the art supplies. The paper she had covered herntinnting with had blown away and he picked up the board with the watercolor taped to it.
Blushing, Hermione said, “It’s not very good, not yet, but it’s a decent start.”
His eyes glanced over the picture. True, it wasn’t very good, yet. “I agree, it is a ‘decent’ start,” he said softly, his eyes on hers once more, and she smiled, understanding that he was not speaking of her art.
****
AN/ Neo-Dire Wolf (Worgs) Mythical- This variety of wolf is simply a huge specimen typical of the Pleistocene Epoch. They conform to the characteristics of normal wolves. Evil natured, these creatures have a language and are often found in co-operation with goblins in order to gain prey. They are as large as ponies and can be ridden.
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