Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Thinking	By : tcarlson Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 8896 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make money off this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Chp 1: Shutting Off the Brain
- 2-Chp 2: To Lure a Potter
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Hermione cowered in the center of the room as Lord Voldemort stalked toward her. She fought the instinct to back away and instead sank to her knees as was expected of her. It was better to do as she had been instructed than fight it and earn a double dose of punishment. At least she didn’t need to think of anything to occupy her mind. The fear made it completely blank. She focused on remembering to breathe.

He stopped right in front of her and stared down, looking pensive. His wand hand moved and she flinched involuntarily, bracing herself for curses that never came. After several seconds of silence, Hermione dared to take a peek upward. His red eyes stared back. She quickly ducked her head again.

“Stand,” he ordered, fingering his wand.

She promptly stood, hoping for a simple Cruciatus Curse and not one of his more creative punishments where he delved into her mind and played off of any snippet he found there. Last time, he found the old fear of drowning from when she was six and was swept under the water from a powerful undertow. He had conjured a large bubble of water that surrounded her and watched her thrash about as her lungs screamed for oxygen with impassive eyes.

“I’ve been sending young Harry short little visions of your stay here via our connection. I could feel his anger so strongly at first. He couldn’t believe that I had gotten his stubborn Hermione to kneel beside me like a lap dog. He swore to save you as soon as possible.”

“I’m being kept here as a trap for Harry?” Hermione thought with a flash of dread. “He’ll come and get himself killed! No, the Order would never allow it…”

“Yes, the meddling Order has kept him from making the stupid mistake of running into my lair head-on without a plan. I expected no less, but what I didn’t expect was that he would become resigned to your fate. It is as if the Order has made no plans to save you in the foreseeable future and he knows that he can do nothing for you. He misses you and feels so badly that he can’t help you, but he receives the visions with no anger, no stirring of the hero complex to come and save you. I must up the ante to lure him here.”

The Dark Lord didn’t seem to be talking to Hermione anymore. This monologue was for himself to get his thoughts in order. He paced slow circles around her. Finally stopping his torturous track, he stood in front of her, the hem of his expensive silk robes brushing against her bare feet. He studied her silently for several minutes.

“We need to reignite his passion for saving you.”

“We?” Hermione thought weakly.

“Yes, both of us. Together. For there is no better way to get him here than by exploiting the fact that I have his Mudblood best friend in my clutches. That I can do to her whatever I wish.”

“Torture.” The word swam through Hermione’s mind like a bad dream. She had been tortured so much in so many horrible ways. And now he wanted to step it up a notch? She had no doubts about the amazing healing power of her body… but her mind… How much more could it take?

“We’ve already established that torture doesn’t seem to be working anymore,” Voldemort muttered bitterly. Keeping close contact, he swung himself so he could press his chest against her back. “When Snape had disrupted your flimsy attempts to hide your thoughts, you had been keen to let him know that I hadn’t forced myself on you. I wanted to leave that avenue as a last resort because of your regrettable blood status, but it seems as if we have reached that point, my dear.”

She froze as his hands skimmed her sides, holding back a sob. This was the worst punishment yet: being told that not only was she a captive, but that she was going to be used as some sort of… sex plaything… to lure Harry to his death! No spell could ever do the damage that this would.

“And if you endure our encounters with a minimal amount of fuss, I’m sure that you will find yourself to be rewarded properly.”

Deep under her disgust and dread, a very small part of her was enticed by the word “reward”. Her mind reeled with the possibilities: “Real clothes! My own bed! Books!” She felt guilty that even that small part of her thought of being compliant. The rest of her would very much like to go throw up in the corner at just the thought of him touching her, never mind the fact that he was currently taking the liberty of running his hands over her sides, back, shoulders, and neck.

Hermione boldly stepped away from his roving hands and turned to face him. He folded his arms and cocked his head to the side as if it entertained him to see her little act of rebelliousness even though he knew that she knew that he would get his way. She nervously played with the hem of her plain, shapeless robe.

“No,” she said quietly but firmly. The Dark Lord’s face showed no trace of emotion. He just stood there and stared, making her quite nervous about what thoughts were running through his mind. “But, um, thank you?” she finished meekly.

“I wasn’t asking permission. I was only notifying you as a courtesy,” he informed her.

She started hyperventilating. Her head felt fuzzy and the room spun around her. She stumbled toward the wall to catch herself before she fainted, but she miscalculated and the floor rushed up to meet her. However, before she hit the floor, an arm wound around her waist and another went behind her neck to support her head. She was lifted into the air and carried across the room.

When Hermione was dropped onto the soft mattress of the bed, she gratefully sank into the blankets. Then, her foggy mind remembered Voldemort’s plan for her and she panicked. After what he had just divulged, his bed was the last place that she would want to find herself. Her eyes snapped open and she scrambled to the opposite side of the bed to get as far away from him as possible.

“No, please,” she begged.

“Calm yourself. It will not be now. You need to rest and adjust to this news, and I need to finish some business. I will be back later tonight after you’ve gotten over the initial shock. Now rest.”

He didn’t leave until she had tentatively lain down. After he swept out of the room, she allowed herself a few tears and then let the darkness claim her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She didn’t know how long she had slept, but as soon as Hermione had wakened, she sat against the headboard and braced herself for his return. She jumped at every little sound, thinking it was the Dark Lord about to open the door. Just as she was wondering how much more her nerves could take, the door did open but it wasn’t Voldemort returning.

It was Snape. As relieved as she was that she had been spared for awhile longer, she couldn’t help but worry what sort of purpose his appearance had.

He didn’t waste any time. In a couple of short strides, he was standing next to the bed, holding out two vials for her to take.

“It is the Dark Lord’s wish that you drink these immediately so that they can take effect by the time his business is completed,” he drawled.

She eyed the vials warily. “What are they?”

“Since you are such an insufferable know-it-all, you tell me,” he answered, handing her the first one.

She uncorked it and sniffed it carefully. The aroma was very distinct and she had no problem placing the potion in a distinct category, but something about it was a little off. “It’s a contraceptive,” she told him with a deep blush and an unpleasant twist of her stomach, “but something is wrong about this one. It’s not anything we learned about in class.”

“You wouldn’t have learned about this one in class. Those were short term contraceptives meant to last a night or a month at most per dose. This one is darker magic meant to last indefinitely.” She balked and recapped the vial. “You must take it,” he ordered.

“No! I want kids one day. I won’t ruin my future happiness just because he’s had a sudden inspiration to rape me!”

“Do you really want to bear the Dark Lord’s heir?”

She shook her head forcefully, blinking back tears. “But when I get out of here… Ron and I always planned…”

“I seriously doubt that you will live through this to produce another brood of Weasleys,” he interrupted cruelly. “Now drink it or I will make you drink it.”

She had no doubt that he would so to spare herself further embarrassment, she quickly swallowed the mouthful in the vial before she could second guess herself. The only sign that it worked was a sharp pain in her abdomen that swiftly abated. Hermione covered her lower stomach with her hand and silently mourned the loss of any future children she ever hoped to have.

The second vial was thrust under her nose already uncapped. She took it with shaking hands and sniffed it as well. It was just a calming drought mixed with a mild relaxant. Hermione was actually grateful for that one. Once the vial was empty, she lay down and curled into a small ball.

“The Dark Lord will arrive in about an hour. It gives both potions enough time to take full effect. If you feel the need to break into hysterics, I’d do that now because he’ll have no patience for your sniveling.” The two empty vials clanked against each other as he picked them up and dropped them in his pocket. Then he was gone.

Hermione supposed she should have felt like breaking down and crying, but couldn’t muster the energy to do so. Listlessly, she stretched out on her side and took advantage of her solitude by letting her mind roam.

After what apparently had been weeks of captivity without encountering her former professor, she interacted with Snape twice in one day! She could understand his aloofness and nastiness when in front of Voldemort, but why, when they were alone, hadn’t he attempted to comfort her in some way? Or give her news? Or let her know the Order’s plans were to save her? She didn’t believe for a second that he was Voldemort’s man. After all, Dumbledore trusted him completely so she should too. At any rate, it was good to know that she had sort of an ally close by.

“He probably didn’t trust my ability to shield my thoughts from Voldemort,” she mused, “but he’ll find a way to pass me information, I’m sure.” She felt oddly comforted at this thought. “Everything will be alright…”

The door opened, but she couldn’t bother to check to see who it was. The blankets were too soft and her head felt too heavy. She sighed contently when a hand trailed up her back, raising pleasant goose bumps across her body. The bed dipped and she felt someone settle next to her. She opened her eyes, wondering when she had closed them, to find herself staring into the red eyes of the Dark Lord. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew that she should be scared or at least attempting to get away, but the potions were too powerful to feel more than just detached curiosity as his face loomed closer to press his lips to hers.
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Thinking