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Captive at Number 12	By : CeliaEquus Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 32439 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have no claim on the Harry Potter franchise, and am making no money from any of my fan fiction.

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“You don’t want me anymore, do you?”

Yaxley looked up from where he was reading the newspaper by the fire. Luna was trying to teach the boys a bit more about cooking, especially since they kept suffering from stomach problems during their ‘camping trip’. With those three occupied, Hermione went to find her… well, what could she call him?

“What do you mean?” he asked, putting the paper aside. She was wringing her hands.

“You haven’t even looked at me for the last couple of days, and you certainly haven’t made any… demands.”

“I have defected from the Dark Lord,” he said, standing up. “You no longer have to do what I say for fear of being turned over to him. Trust me, Miss Granger; I will never make such ‘demands’ of you again.”

Just as he went to move past her, she caught his arm.

“May I make some demands, then?” she asked. He swallowed.

“Anything,” he said, before mentally kicking himself. This was showing weakness, something he had done far too often the last few days. But Hermione didn’t laugh at him. Instead, she placed a hand on his cheek; not for a slap, but for a caress.

“The first one is… call me ‘Hermione’,” she said. “It seems ridiculous for you to call me ‘Miss Granger’.”

“As you wish,” he said. “Hermione.” She smiled brightly.

“My second one is that I…” She looked down, blushing furiously. He tilted her chin up.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

“Keep making those demands of me.”

He thought that he’d misheard. She hadn’t just asked him that… had she?

“W-what was that?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” she said, pulling back. He grabbed her hands before she could go. “Please…”

“Hermione,” he said. He glanced at the doorway, but there was no one there. He would do it; he would let down his guard. “Sit down.”

“No, I won’t,” she said. “Just tell me whatever it is you want to say.”

He chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything. Just stand still, then.”

With that, he took out his wand and undid every spell that he had placed on her that first day. She began to feel light-headed as each bond was lifted, until only the block on her magic remained. She noticed him hesitate.

“You can undo it, can’t you?” she said.

“Yes. Just be prepared.”

She understood his warning very well. As soon as the final spell was lifted she could feel the rush of magic through her veins, reaching parts of her that she hadn’t felt in ages. It made her so dizzy that Yaxley had to grab her before she fell over. Holding her bridal-style, he waited until she opened her eyes again. There was an extra sparkle there that he hadn’t noticed before, no doubt brought about by the return of her magic.

“You were right,” she said. “I should have sat down.”

“Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

He kept an arm around her once she had her feet on the ground, as she was still unsteady.

“Are you all right now?”

“I am,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Here.” He gave her his wand. “Try it out.”

“I’d rather use my own,” she replied, handing it back. “Come on.”

She grabbed his hand and almost dragged him up to the master bedroom. There she pulled out her wand from under her pillow and brandished it. Tears came to her eyes.

“It’s such a rush,” she said, her hands shaking slightly.

“I know.”

“You… you know? How…”

“My father used to punish me like that,” he said, looking out the window. “If I misbehaved in any way, he would usually cut off my powers for up to weeks at a time. There is nothing worse to a Pureblood than to lose their magic, even if it’s only temporary. And the ‘rush’,” he smiled bitterly, “was just as overwhelming every time. Mind you, I was a child then.”

“When you were a student?”

“No.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I’d learned my lesson by then. Horace Slughorn was not a strict disciplinarian, but he knew my father, and knew that I had to be kept in line more than some others, for my own sake.”

“You were a rebel?” she asked jokingly, sitting beside him.

“Being a rebel would likely have gotten me killed,” he said. He was entirely serious. “It was safer to behave. We cannot all be like Sirius Black.”

“But he did die,” she said, taking his hand. He looked down, surprised. “You’re still alive.”

He didn’t speak for a moment. Then he wrenched himself away and stood before her.

“It is your right to take your revenge on me, Miss Granger,” he said, and he threw his wand aside. “Will you do so?”

She smiled. “I have a better idea for my first spell in… gosh, almost half a year.” She jumped to her feet and looked around. “I’d like to redecorate this room.”

“Doesn’t she know that she doesn’t have to be with him now?” Ron asked, nearly cutting off his fingers. Again. “I mean, he’s not one of them anymore.” He leaned closer to Harry. “But I wouldn’t put anything past him, right, Harry?”

“Right, Ron. Oi! Watch where you’re waving that knife! I know I wear glasses, but that’s still dangerous, mate.”

“Oh. Sorry,” he said, placing the knife down. “Right. I’ve cut the carrots, Luna. What next?”

“You have a very interesting method when it comes to chopping vegetables, Ronald,” she said.

“You’re a girl, right?” he said.

“Oh, not again,” Harry groaned.

“Well, she is!” Ron said. “She’s got a girl’s way of looking at things.”

“You want to know what Hermione would see in a man like Mr. Yaxley,” Luna said.

“Wait! What she… what she sees in him?” He was incredulous. “No. She doesn’t see anything in him. I just want to know why she feels like she still has to do… whatever she’s been doing for him. He’s supposed to be on our side now. She doesn’t need this.”

“Oh, Ron,” she said, shaking her head.

“He’s crazy, isn’t he, Luna?” Harry asked. Ron glared at him.

“Not really crazy,” she said. “Just as crazy as anyone else.”

“Good to know.”

“What you don’t understand is that ‘having’ to do something and ‘needing’ to do something are quite different,” she said. “Hermione doesn’t have to be with him. But she might need to be with him.”

“‘With him’? Oh, gods,” Ron said, looking at the ceiling. “She wouldn’t. And… and they mean exactly the same thing.”

Luna shook her head and went back to mashing the potatoes.

That night, when they all went to bed, Yaxley made sure that no one was watching and then followed Hermione into her bedroom. She now felt much more comfortable referring to it as ‘hers’ ever since she redecorated.

“Oh!” She jumped when she heard the door close, and then blushed when she saw who it was. “I didn’t realise that you were… uh…”

“I recall something about you wanting me to make certain… demands,” he said, smiling unsurely. “Was I wrong?”

Her smile was slow in coming, but when she realised the truth of his statement she couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” she said, lying down. He climbed onto the bed beside her.

“I didn’t wish for you to feel obliged…”

“I haven’t felt obliged for some time.”

“Oh.” He kissed her on the lips briefly, and then began to unbutton her pyjama top. Hermione groped about for her wand, and then Vanished their clothes. He grinned.

“I use my powers for good,” she said, grinning back.

“Are you sure that you’re not using them for wicked?” he asked, and he began to kiss his way down her neck and then chest. She trembled.

“I… I’m not sure…”

“Mmm.” He inhaled deeply, staring at her skin. “Roll over. I want to kiss your back.”

She was on her stomach in a moment, dripping wet already. He knelt behind her and ran his hands up her arms. She moaned as they trailed down her back lightly, followed by his lips. His fingers massaged the flesh of her thighs and buttocks as he covered her back in little kisses, working his way lower.

“Yaxley,” she whispered. “Please take me. Make lo… make me y-yours again.”

He paused, but in the next instant he was positioning himself and preparing to press into her body.

“Are you sure?” he said.

“I’ve never been so sure.”

‘Thank Merlin,’ he mouthed, sinking into her depths. She gasped and bucked against him as he brushed something that was insanely pleasurable. He chuckled and pushed further inside, all the way to the hilt. Once there he savoured the feeling. It was perfection. It was something he had been missing all his life.

He bent over and slid his right arm beneath her pelvis. Then, backing up slowly, he pulled her until she was on all fours. He kissed the skin between her shoulders before withdrawing, and then slowly thrusting back in. Hermione whimpered when he touched that spot again, and then again. The pace was unhurried, each move designed to increase her pleasure, until she was crying out and clenching around him. While she was still shaking with bliss, he pulled out and then moved her until she was on her back. He used her wand to ward the door and placed a Silencing Charm.

“Sorry,” she said, her chest heaving. “I forgot. We haven’t…”

“I know,” he said, and he captured her mouth to shut her up. He tossed her wand aside and began to stroke her body into position. Once there, he surged back into her. Gods, she was always so tight, no matter the angle. The fact that her inner walls were still quivering didn’t help his control. He grabbed her hands, entwining their fingers, and held them on the pillows either side of her head. All this without stopping the kiss.

Exhausted by the time they reached climax – for Hermione, the second time – they lay entangled. It wasn’t until she thought of her possible pregnancy that she began to push at him to move off. Rather than removing himself, he held her as he rolled onto his back, keeping them connected. The intimacy of the action brought tears to Hermione’s eyes, but she hid her face in his chest as she blinked them back. No point in giving herself away, even if he seemed to care about her. There was no way a conformist Pureblood would ever love a Muggleborn.

Yet he never left her bed that night.

By the morning they had separated, but his arm was draped across her stomach where she lay. Then she realised what had woken her up.

Desperate though she was, she didn’t wish to wake him up because of this. So she carefully extricated herself, grabbed a dressing gown, and was soon scurrying down the hallway into the bathroom. She barely had time to shut the door and get to the toilet before she was throwing up.

Morning sickness. It had to be morning sickness. Unless she was having a hysterical pregnancy. Were there hysterical pregnancies in the wizarding world?

Oh gods.

No. She knew that she was pregnant. But to make sure, she needed to get someone to cast the spell, someone who knew the spell, someone she could trust to be discreet.

She moaned as she knelt by the toilet, just in case she was sick again. She doubted her friends knew, and she couldn’t ask Yaxley.

“Think, Hermione,” she muttered. “Think!”

Even had she known the spell, she couldn’t cast it on herself. There was too high a risk of the test being compromised by her own feelings towards being pregnant.

Once her stomach appeared to be settled, she flushed the loo, brushed her teeth and left the bathroom. It was lighter now, and she could see clearly when she got back to her room.

He wasn’t there.

She could only manage toast for breakfast, plain toast at that. And juice.

“Where’s Mr. Yaxley?” Luna asked. Ron and Harry looked at Hermione immediately. She shrugged.

“I haven’t seen him since last night,” she said.

“It didn’t sound like that,” Harry said darkly, looking away again. She blushed.

“He was my only human contact for months,” she said. “Did you even tell anyone that I was a prisoner here?”

“Sounded like you didn’t mind being a ‘prisoner’,” Ron muttered, scowling at his plate.

“Oh, Ronald,” she said, throwing down her napkin. She stood up. “If that’s the attitude that you’re going to take then I’ll go to the library. Just bear in mind,” she pointed at the two boys, “that he never handed me over to You-Know-Who. He never beat me, and he stopped calling me ‘Mudblood’. He worked out which books would be safe for me to read, and that was after he saved my life when a cursed book nearly killed me. So don’t you dare say a thing against…”

Yaxley burst into the room, his wand drawn.

“Someone’s trying to break through the wards,” he said. “Only one person, and I know who it is. I’ll wait until he gets inside and then deal with it. Wait here.”

“Who is it?” Hermione asked. He glanced at her.

“Severus Snape,” he said. Harry jumped up.

“Let me deal with him,” he said, pulling out his wand.

“There’ll be no fighting until I know why he’s here,” Yaxley said. “It may be a trap.”

“Then shouldn’t one of us do it?” Hermione said. “I mean, you’re not supposed to be alive, as far as he knows.”

“I’m not letting you fight someone of Severus Snape’s calibre… Shh! He’s coming now!”

Severus stepped over the threshold into Grimmauld Place. The first thing – one of the first things – that he noticed was the absence of Walburga Black’s portrait.

He’d been able to identify Yaxley’s signature all over the new wards. What he didn’t know was whether his fellow Death Eater was actually living here, or whether he was at his manor. Either way, he needed to exercise caution.

Just as he turned but slightly to lock and ward the door, he sensed someone about to attack him.

The battle was over in a few minutes, but it was fierce and dangerous. Finally, it was Harry and Ron’s help that resulted in Severus being bound and gagged, and then Levitated through to the living room. Hermione and Luna followed, one looking on anxiously and the other merely drifting unconcernedly.

The dark-haired man glared at them as he was tied to a chair. Finally, his gag was removed, but the scowl remained intact.

But then no one knew what to say. Well, almost no one.

“Hello, Professor Snape,” Luna said. Only those who knew her well would have seen the harder look in her eyes when she spoke to him.

“Miss Lovegood,” he said. His gaze moved to Yaxley. “I wondered if you had defected when I saw the rat’s remains. Pettigrew’s form had fur of a different colour. Then it was merely a case of checking ‘your’ body for something other than the cause of death.”

“Who did you tell?” Yaxley asked.

“No one.” He smiled nastily. “But I am curious. Why would you, of all people, fake your death? What could possibly entice you to defect? And not only that, but you freed the prisoners supposedly responsible for your demise.”

“My motives are none of your concern.”

“As I have been ambushed by you I would say that they are very much my concern.”

“Why did you kill Dumbledore?” Harry asked, poking Severus with his wand. He sneered.

“Wait,” Ron said. “We won’t know if he’s telling the truth.”

“I am a master of Legillimancy,” Yaxley said. Severus raised an eyebrow.

“That explains a great deal,” he said. His eyes flicked to Hermione. “Why were you not captured along with Potter and Weasley?”

“I…” She looked away, blushing. “I’ve been here.”

“I see.” He looked at Yaxley. “That does explain a great deal.”

“Why are you here?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, and we want answers now, Snape,” Harry said.

“Patience, Potter, has always been a trait that you lack,” Severus said. “Was it not your lack of patience that led to your godfather’s death?”

“Don’t you talk about Sirius!” He received a smirk in reply. “Why did you kill Dumbledore? He trusted you. He trusted you!”

“Harry, calm down,” Hermione said, watching the sparks flying out of his wand with great unease. “If you want him to talk, you have to let him speak.”

“Stay back here,” Yaxley murmured, pulling her behind him. “And you, Miss Lovegood.”

“Are you playing the nanny, Yaxley?” Severus asked.

“Why’re you even asking him anything, Harry?” Ron said. “Snape killed Dumbledore because You-Know-Who told him to!”

“I killed Dumbledore…” But he trailed off and shook his head with a sigh. “I am so tired of this. When Phineas told me that you were here – that all of you were here – and what you were trying to accomplish, I felt it my duty to help you. Not that Albus approved.” He laughed hollowly. “But he is a mere painting now, no matter how many things that he may hold over me. Yet only one hold… is necessary.” He looked away. “It was my turn to decide what was best. What can he know beyond the workings of the school?”

“Perhaps you should start at the beginning, sir,” Luna said.

“Yes,” Yaxley said, his eyes never leaving Severus. “Start at the beginning.”

After much explaining – and viewing of memories in the salad bowl – everyone had sat in silent shock. Harry, especially, was having a lot of difficulty coming to terms with all that he had learned from his former professor. (Not even that particularly bad pun was enough to make him smile.) They decided to leave further planning until the next day. In the meantime, Severus returned to Hogwarts.

Before he left, however, Harry had made a quiet request.

“Sir,” he said, accosting him at the front door.

“What is it, Potter?”

“I needed to know if there was a potion that could help me.”

“Oh, I rather think that you are beyond redemption.” But his smirk suggested that he wasn’t being entirely serious.

“I’ve been having these weird dreams where I’m searching for something, but it’s all fuzzy. Is there anything that will help… clear things up?”

“I shall send you something by this evening,” he said after a slight pause. “I know something that may help you.”

“Thank you, sir. And… I’m really sorry about everything. If I’d known…”

“It makes no difference now, Pot… Harry.”

“But I needed to say it. I never had a real father figure; the closest I ever got was Sirius, and maybe Remus, but I didn’t see them much. And you were always there to look after me, even though you only did it for my mother. Dumbledore was more like a grandfather, so I guess…”

“Don’t say it,” he said. There was a strange sadness in his eyes as he studied Harry. “If you say it…” He shut his eyes and pinched his nose. “Not with her eyes, and looking so much like your father.”

“Okay,” Harry said, nodding.

“I will floo here this evening and bring you the potion.”

Lying in bed, Harry swallowed the Lucid Dream Draught. It didn’t taste too bad; a bit like peppermint and vanilla. He settled back, hoping for a peaceful night despite the revelations of the day.

A horcrux. Dumbledore knew all along that he was a horcrux. And he concealed the fact that Professor Snape had been in love with his mother since they were children. Everything made sense now; wonderful, horrible sense.

He had to die for Voldemort to be killed. In other words, the prophecy was…

Then the glass vial crashed to the floor as Harry fell asleep.

Yaxley didn’t join Hermione that night, which was just as well, as she had to make a dash to the loo in the early hours again.

When she went downstairs she could hear voices in the living room. As she got closer she recognised them. The men were obviously arguing about something. With her ear to the keyhole she could finally make out their words.

“…irresponsible. She is just a girl, Yaxley. I thought I knew you better than that.”

“Have you seen her, Severus? I couldn’t resist.”

“You stole her innocence. In the absence of her parents, I wish to know your intentions towards her. And your feelings. Do you lo…”

“Feelings? For a Mudblood? You must be…”

Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth to silence her gasp. She hurried away, wanting to have breakfast before anyone else in case they wanted anything that made her feel sick.

Though nothing could make her feel worse than she felt right now.

Severus was going to take Luna back to Hogwarts today, but he wouldn’t be able to visit much – if at all – after that. So it was now or never.

“Professor Snape,” Hermione said, pulling him into the room with the Black family tapestry, as that was the nearest and no one would think to look for them there.

“What is it, Miss Granger?”

“I need you to cast a spell for me, sir. I didn’t know who else to ask.”

“Which spell?”

She looked down at her hands. “A… a spell to check for p-pregnancy.”

“Ah,” he said, and his eyes narrowed. “I see. Lie down flat and keep your hands at your sides.”

When she was in position he knelt beside her and began to chant while waving his wand over her abdomen. Eventually a small pink blob appeared. Severus ended the spell and helped her stand.

“What did it mean?” she asked.

“Congratulations, Miss Granger,” he said, sheathing his wand. “You’re expecting. Without a test less basic than that one, I cannot give you an exact time, but you are in the first trimester, judging by the size of the form.”

“Is it a girl?”

“The colour pink means that the baby is healthy. It is not a determination of the gender. As I have said, you need a more thorough examination.” He cocked his head. “I need no longer speculate about your feelings.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t feel the same way about me,” she whispered, leaning against the wall. “I would end up giving my heart to the wrong man, wouldn’t I? All these years of thinking about Ron, and all it took was one missed jinx to end up changing me completely.” She laughed as she shook her head. “He’s a Death Eater, and I’m a Mudblood. Just like he said.” She felt her eyes welling up.

“Here,” Severus said, handing her a handkerchief. She accepted it with a watery smile. “Miss Granger – Hermione – if there is one thing that I have learned of my mistakes, it is that lashing out at someone is a defence mechanism, and that the more you care about someone, the harsher you will be. Being rejected by the one you love the most is the worst thing a person can feel. I know from experience.”

“Yes,” she said. “Of course. But… but…”

“What did Yaxley tell you about magical pregnancies?”

“That a witch can only fall pregnant when she’s in love with the man.”

“Hmm.”

“Anyway, you must get Luna to Hogwarts. I’m sorry to have taken up your time. I just wanted to be sure.”

“Do inform me of your plans.”

“We will, sir. And thank you for all your help.”

“Do not lose faith, Miss Granger.” He turned to go, but she asked him one last thing.

“What’s his first name, Professor?”

His lips twitched. “Ask him yourself.”

A/N: So, any suggestions for Yaxley’s first name? I’ve got one in mind, but I’d like to hear (well, read) other people’s thoughts. If I choose one of yours then you’ll get full credit. I tried to find something appropriate starting with ‘Y’ because of Ms. Rowling’s propensity for alliteration in names, but it was damned difficult to find something appropriate. I mean, how many names will go with ‘Yaxley’?

In the end, I’ve chosen a constellation. Credit will also go to the person who guesses it. (Hermitt isn’t allowed to guess, since she already knows.)
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Captive at Number 12