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Dance with the Devil	By : JCB Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 9184 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. I just have a dysfunctional relationship with them.

Chapter Eight: Entente with the Devil

Hermione awoke, as she often did now, naked and surrounded by a softly snoring Severus Snape. One of his arms was wrapped around her chest, cupping one of her breasts and intermittently squeezing it. His other arm was under her neck and curled up to her shoulder, keeping her clasped tightly to him. She sighed, but refrained from moving away from her husband. The first time she had woken like this, her movements had caused an unwelcome reaction. At least now she did not have a hard shaft digging into her back. Carefully, she reached out, trying to find the virginal nightgown she wore on what she termed were the �sex-free nights�.

It was gone.

As usual.

However, when she woke again in the morning, alone, she would be clad once more in it.

As usual.

She really did not understand this wizard at all. He was an enigma wrapped in a snarky bastard.

She sighed again and wiggled slightly, trying to relax and get comfortable to hopefully be able to fall asleep again.

Instead, her mind began to race, reviewing the last five weeks of her marriage.

Once they had returned from Diagon Alley, Snape had relieved Hermione of her wand whilst she had quickly taken her new clothes into the bedroom. Once dressed, she happily ripped up the slave robe before exiting to find her wand. And her husband.

She entered the library just in time to see him Floo out, her new wand in his hand.

Two hungry hours later he had returned, handing her the stripped and unlocked wand and suggesting she prepare something for dinner.

�And just how do I do that?� she had asked, hunger making her snippy. �I have never cooked anything in my life, let alone used magic to do so.�

Snape had raised that ubiquitous eyebrow and taken her into the kitchen.

Although the wand was sluggish (�It is the wand that chooses the witch, Miss Granger,� she remembered Ollivander telling her when she had piled question upon question on him as to why people had different wands) she had been able to prepare enough food to feed herself.

When she had asked how Borgin attained these wands, the terse answer of �You do not wish to know, madam,� caused her heart to leap up into her throat. She had opened her mouth to tell her husband whom she believed the Gregorovich wand had belonged to, but decided instead to keep that information to herself.

She only hoped that Viktor Krum was still alive. Or that he had died quickly and painlessly.

That night, she had lain in bed, naked, waiting for her husband. When he finally came in, tall, dark and ugly, she had repressed a shiver, admonishing herself fiercely. Truly, last night had been pleasurable, once she had repressed that it was Snape who had been � taking her. It could have been worse. It could have been Percy Weasley.

Over a month later and that thought still caused her to shudder. Behind her, Snape murmured something and stroked her breast before lapsing back into a deeper sleep.

Instead of asserting his husbandly rights that second night, he had stalked over to the tallboy, pulled out a neck to knee flannel nightgown and thrown it at her.

�Cover yourself, madam,� he had ordered, before pulling out a grey flannel nightshirt for himself. Once in bed he simply curled up, his back facing her, and gone to sleep.

The next day, he ignored her. She fixed her own breakfast, perused his books, written notes about things she read, prepared her own lunch, wrote an essay from her notes, had a bath, ate the dinner he had prepared for the two of them, read the discarded newspaper from the morning, changed into her nightgown and went to bed.

Only to have it spelled off her.

�We must have congress every second night, madam,� he had informed her.

Every second night wasn�t too bad, she reassured herself. It could be a lot worse.

So the days and nights continued. After the first week, Severus had introduced Occlumency training into their daily programme. There was a brief respite from sex when her menses appeared, but after that, the routine started up again.

Occasionally, Severus would disappear. When she asked him where he had been or where he was going, he merely growled that it did not concern her. Sometimes when he came back and if it was a sex night, he would take her to bed earlier than normal and pound desperately into her. If it was not a sex night, she usually woke up to find herself being cradled in his arms.

It was disconcerting to say the least.

She had noted that the desperation usually happened not when he had been called to attend the Dark Lord, but when he had been attacked by a book. The book. She had, of course, always noted where it returned to, but when she had gone to investigate it, she could never find it.

Sometimes, when he was writing in the book, Snape would look tired and sad. Other times he would appear coldly furious. Once he looked vindictively triumphant, but when he had glanced over at her, she could have sworn that he blushed before ordering her from the room.

She dreamed up plans of how to access that book � some of which she was sure would work. But she never implemented them. The old Hermione, the one who had followed Harry into many dangerous situations, would have done it, but the new Hermione had seen the price of recklessness.

And she was not prepared to pay it now.

A sob welled up and escaped as the memories of everyone and everything she had lost encompassed her.

�Quiet now,� came her husband�s sleepy voice, devoid of any anger or sarcasm, as his arms pulled her tighter to him, and he drifted back into sleep.

He probably wouldn�t even remember the next morning.

I can�t do this anymore! her mind wailed.

Of course you can! Do you want to become a toy for any pureblood to use? her rational self demanded. Just ask him about the bloody book tomorrow if it�s that important to you!

Hermione blinked.

She hadn�t thought of that.

*~*

However, the next morning, her wand would not work.

Trailing disconsolately into the library, she moved over to where her husband was grimacing and drinking a cup of coffee. His face screwed up in distaste as he finished the brew.

�Why do you drink that if you hate it so much?� she asked, distracted from her current woe.

His dark eyes peered resentfully up at her.

�I have been told it increases virility in men,� he snarled out.

Hermione jerked her head back in confusion. �You seem virile enough to me,� she blurted out.

Snape smirked. �Thank you, madam.�

Hermione blushed and glared at him.

�However, I was speaking more of the fact that it stimulates sperm,� he continued on, beginning to drop into his lecture voice.

�Who told you that?� she interrupted. �Was it the book person?�

Severus surged up from his seat. �Do not speak of that, you little fool,� he hissed, spittle flying out of his mouth in his fury.

Angrily, Hermione wiped the spit of her face while thrusting her wand out at him. �It�s broken,� she spat out, just as he raised his wand to counter her attack.

Hermione stepped back in shock, lowering her wand and gazing at him, realising that he thought she was going to attack him.

Then the anger took over and she stepped in close.

�How dumb do you think I am?� she growled at him. �I don�t know why you married me or what you�re doing, but I�m not an idiot. This pathetic half-life I�m living at the moment is better than being the main attraction of a Death Eater gang bang, so I�m not going to be stupid enough to endanger myself! Do you really think I�d attack you? I�ve got more to lose than you!�

Stepping back, she drew in a deep breath before continuing. �I�m telling you about the wand because without it, I can�t feed myself or defend myself from any kind of attack, physical or mental.�

Severus looked at her flatly, before calmly slipping his wand back up his sleeve.

�I notice you mentioned feeding yourself before defending yourself,� he observed mildly.

Hermione gasped. �Are you implying I need to go on a diet?� she screeched.

For a brief moment, Snape looked completely confused. Then, after carefully looking over her from head to toe, he smiled � a small, seductive smile that made something lurch pleasurably in the pit of Hermione�s stomach.

�Never,� he stated softly, his voice reaching out and wrapping itself around her.

Hermione swallowed.

�Now, give me your wand,� he briskly ordered, holding out his hand. �I can fix it temporarily.�

Giving it to him, she watched as he strode over to the fire. Before collecting up the Floo powder, he waved his wand and, perusing her once more, stepped into the green flames.

Leaving Hermione alone. Wandless. With a huge breakfast laid out before her.

*~*

That night was a sex night.

Something had been different about it.

She just wished she had enough experience to know what it was.

Or at least someone to talk to about it.

*~*

A week later, six weeks and one day since she had left Malfoy�s Mudblood Mares, Severus cornered her in the library.

�We do not have to worry about your blood anymore,� he told her.

�My blood?� she replied, completely confused.

�The blood you spilt on the day of our marriage,� he reminded her.

�Oh,� she replied. �Good?�

He nodded. �Very good. The Lestranges can no longer use it to spy on you.�

�Why not?�

�It is no longer fresh enough to use in any spell or potion,� he informed.

Hermione frowned. �Why didn�t they use it for something � well, more nefarious?�

Snape snorted. �Because unlike you and me, they are imbeciles.�

Hermione smiled. �I think that�s the nicest thing you�ve ever said to me!�

Her husband grunted and left the room.

Hermione returned to reading Advanced Numerology and Grammatica.

*~*

Three weeks later during an Occlumency lesson, Severus once again easily invaded her mind. He pulled out quickly, his face white. He quickly shepherded her to a chair and sat her down, his eyes appearing like two black caverns in a snow white field.

�Severus?� Hermione asked, alarmed. �Is everything alright?�

�Yes, of course, yes,� he mumbled, still staring dumbly at her.

Clicking his fingers, he summoned The Book together with a quill. Wrenching his eyes from her, he scribbled something and quickly sent it back to the shelves.

Then he knelt down in front of her, gathering her hands in his, a look of relief flowing across his sallow features.

�Congratulations, madam,� he informed her triumphantly. �You are pregnant.�

Hermione burst into tears.

*~*

A/n Entente means a friendly understanding between Nations (Yep � I teach history too). Hermione had a copy of Numerology and Grammatica in Prisoner of Azkaban.

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Dance with the Devil