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Capture Me	By : hermioneinchains Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 16095 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in Harry Potter, any of the world of Harry Potter, I'm making no money off of this fanfiction and it is, indeed a total fiction.

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It had taken months for her to stop testing him. Now, he hardly needed to threaten her, she was so compliant. Hermione drifted back to the present as he came post-Sara’s announcement, barely registering the humiliation that had knocked her down so thoroughly at being referred to as “the girl.” Now she was afforded more freedom and when he unchained her, Hermione walked dutifully to the bathroom to shower and use the facilities. When she emerged, to her surprise, he was back again. Generally he left her alone during the day, unless he wanted to punish her.

“What did I do?” she asked dully, leaning back against the wall knowing full well there was nothing she could do to stop him if he had decided today was a punishment day.

“How would you like to go outside, Hermione?” he asked. Hermione froze, uncomprehending and suddenly fearful.

“What do you mean?” she asked. She hadn’t been outside in six months.

“We have a large enough fence around the back yard that no one – wizard or otherwise - can see in,” he explained. “Your voice will be muted, of course. And if anything goes wrong I’ll punish you.”

Hermione’s mind was moving, her eyes on Severus’s face, trying to measure and see if this was a mind fuck or some sort of trap. He gave no indication of either.

“Do you want me to go outside, sir?” she asked carefully. He smiled at her.

“Such an obedient girl. Yes, I think it would be best for you to get some sun. You’ve been very,” he hesitated, “apathetic lately.” Hermione felt the tiniest flicker of anger, which she automatically suppressed. Of course she was apathetic. She had given up.

“You don’t want me to be apathetic?” she asked instead, keeping the challenge out of her tone.

“No, it’s not much fun to hurt you and overpower you when you’ve given up, Hermione,” he said coolly, his arms crossed as he regarded her with near disdain. Hermione shuddered, fighting the urge to throw herself to her knees and beg for his approval. Long, long sessions of degrading her and transferring her basic needs for love and affection to him had trained her to react desperately when he looked at her that way.

“I don’t…” she began, nearly faint with the need to throw herself at his feet. She couldn’t even look at him until he was in front of her, tilting her face up so she had to meet his eyes.

“Down,” he said, and she sank to the floor at the familiar command, hating herself for how grateful and relieved she was. He didn’t do anything, just stood above her while she knelt, both palms flat on the floor, her head bowed down. After a long moment, he spoke again.

“I’m going to make you a deal, Hermione,” he said. “I want you to provide me with all of you – down to the absolute bottom of your core – and when you truly have, I will let you go.”

Hermione stopped breathing for an instant, disbelieving. “You’ve been telling me…you have always told me that you’re never letting me go,” she said, shaking once again.

“I want all of you, and I can’t get that from you when you’ve given up,” he said. He grabbed her shoulders with strong hands and pulled her up, setting her down again on the chair. “You’re a powerful victim, Hermione, but you’ve stopped fighting.”

Now that she wasn’t so low, Hermione felt the flicker of anger again. “Of course I’ve stopped fighting,” she said. “You’ve…you…” she stopped, looking up into his eyes, not able to bring herself to challenge him.

“I’ve what?” he asked.

“You know I can’t answer that question,” she said hotly. As soon as she heard her tone, Hermione flinched hard and went to drop to the floor again. Severus’s shove sent her sitting back against the chair.

“No, no escaping down, girl,” he growled. “You look at me and you give me what you’ve been hiding. Or you’ll never see the world again.”

She was torn. On so many levels, she wanted to beg him to leave her alone, to let her drop and fade back into the place he had forced her to become accustomed to. She wasn’t sure she believed him about letting her go, but she was equally unsure that she wanted it. At some point the concept of being a free human being had become so distant, so unrealistic, that Hermione realized she had no idea how she would function if suddenly given the key. But then Hermione remembered who she had been, a long time ago, and she understood that what Severus wanted from her now was her power, not her surrender.

“Are you going to hurt me if I do?” she asked finally. He smiled.

“Yes.”

“You realize I have no ability to resist you.”

“Yes.”

“How do you expect me to try?”

He carted her to her feet and was wrenching her head back against his chest before she knew it. The spell he slapped over her mouth muted her instantly, and when he jerked her hands behind her back and cuffed them with invisible rope she knew that any thought of escape was pointless.

“Ready?” he asked softly, and opened the door. Hermione stared at the staircase leading up to the main floor of the house, her eyes taking in what she hadn’t seen for six months – something different. He walked her up the stairs, supporting her full weight with his own as if she couldn’t walk herself, and perhaps she couldn’t. When they got to the top of the stairs he opened the second door and suddenly sunlight flooded her vision and Hermione dropped, held up purely by Severus’s arms around her waist.

“Shh,” he said, soothing rather than punitive. “It’s all right, Ms. Granger. Just walk.”

They passed the kitchen, the dining room where she had eaten her last dinner as a free person – though, as Hermione reflected with a wince, she doubted she had even been free by then. Severus would have kept her from leaving had she tried, in earnest, to go home that night. He outmatched her by far even with a wand. Her eyes were still flooded with sunlight from the windows, from the sights and sounds of a real, windowed house, when he opened the back door and took her out into the backyard.

The sobbing started instantly, and nearly as quickly, Severus had removed the muting spell and was on the grass, holding and rocking her as she cried into his robes. He was even prepared for this, and had a handkerchief for her to blow her nose. Hermione cried until she was done and then quietly sniffled, leaning fully against her captor, looking up at the blue sky and soft, breezy leaves. The yard was indeed surrounded by a very tall, gap-less fence. Likely covered in spells to prevent any accidental observation.

“I could scream,” she said weakly. He hadn’t muted her again.

“You won’t,” he replied, and there was no doubt in his voice. “I will have to gag you in a few minutes.” Hermione noted that this was the time to scream, then, but she couldn’t find the will. Not when he was granting her all this beautiful, beautiful outdoors. And besides, if she did scream and no one heard, he might not let her out again.

“It’s lovely,” she said in a small voice. After a few more minutes of breathing together, Severus rose to his feet and pulled Hermione to hers. She leaned towards him as he re-cast the spell preventing her speech, almost relieved that that particular choice was out of her hands.

“I want you to walk around the yard, get a little bit of exercise. Slowly,” he ordered. “Do not do anything but walk, and walk until I tell you to stop. If you make too much noise I will chain you to your toilet and leave you alone for two days.”

Wincing at the memory of the time he had done just that, Hermione started to walk the perimeter of the yard, delicately stepping through the grass and examining each flower and shrub with a level of happiness so strong she thought her heart might burst. It had been a long time since he had even granted her some form of entertainment – indeed, the last time he had given her a book had been the time she got up the nerve to really challenge him and had wound up chained to the toilet.

* * * *

Three months into her captivity, he had given her “Pride and Prejudice.” She had read it in three hours and then read it again, devouring the words and story as if starving to death for it. When he had come to collect it, Hermione – who had been released for the day – had asked for another book.

“Perhaps in a few weeks,” he said. Hermione had stood, fists clenched, shaking and glaring at the man.

“No,” she said, anger flooding her neglected brain. “I want another one now. You have no reason not to give it to me.” Severus turned to look at her, surprise flitting across his features.

“No,” he replied slowly. “You can have another one in a few weeks, if I feel like giving it to you.” Their eyes locked and amusement filled his. “Come on, then,” he purred, arms loosely at his sides, the book in his right hand. “Don’t just stand there being pathetic.”

“I could kill you,” she growled, wanting to. “I could kill you.” He laughed and she launched her body full at him, nails up in an attempt to claw his face, biting and kicking and screaming obscenities. She was flat on her face on the floor, the wind knocked from her, within seconds. Even that didn’t stop the rage and Hermione kicked until she was completely pinned.

“Listen, slave,” he said when she had finally stopped struggling, “you are helpless. You are completely dependent on my whims. I own your life. I own your body,” he grabbed a chunk of her hair and pulled so that she bent painfully backwards, arching up toward him, “I own your mind.”

Hermione couldn’t stop herself. “Fuck you. You can’t touch my mind,” she spat. “You can’t have it, you fucking arsehole.”

“What did you say?” he asked. She couldn’t see his face but the tone was dangerous and Hermione immediately went limp with fear.

“I...” she managed, her mouth dry. She couldn’t go any further. She stared at the floor, remembering suddenly that he had told her many times not to refer to him as anything other than sir, and that there would be consequences if she did. Hermione assumed that “Severus” wouldn’t warrant a harsh punishment but she was quite sure “fucking arsehole” would.

He was off of her then, standing over her while she remained face to the floor, shaking.

“Get up,” he said darkly.

“Please don’t…”

“If you speak again or do anything but obey me precisely, you will very much regret it.” Hermione choked back the need to beg and raised herself to her knees and then to her feet, not daring to look at her captor.

“Walk to the bathroom.” Hermione felt a trace of alarm but did what he asked, clutching her arms to herself and pausing in the middle of the large bathroom. He hadn’t followed her immediately and when he walked in she had to fight not to back away from him. He liked when she cowered, but she knew that at this moment he would hurt her for it.

He was carrying metal cuffs and the plastic pitcher of water from her room, the latter of which he set down on the counter close to the toilet.

“Sit,” he ordered, and confused and fully dressed, she sat on the toilet seat. When he cuffed her right wrist behind her and to the tank, she finally got it.

“Do not even think of speaking,” he warned, watching the comprehension dawn on her face. “I don’t want to hear a word from you until I come back. Don’t drink the water too quickly,” he added, shutting off the light and plunging her into darkness.
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Capture Me