The Fall

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this tale, and receive no proceeds from it. All borrowed courtesy of Ms. J.K. Rowling.

The Fall

Chapter One

Hermione sat on her bed and sobbed in utter frustration. She couldn’t take much more of this. This never-ending torment. She lived within a prison of her own making. She was slowly dying inside. Even the rising of the sun was dreaded. It was only when she read that she escaped. Her books, as always, her one true respite.

Hermione scrubbed at her face with her hands. Her face was tired and woebegone. The tears having wreaked havoc upon her visage. Exhausted emotionally, she lay down knowing it would be hours before she slept. If she had known that marriage would entail this amount of agony she never would have agreed to this. Being Mrs. Severus Snape was nothing she had imagined.

When her former Professor had saved her from a forced marriage to Draco Malfoy, Hermione had been grateful. The implementation of the Wizarding Marriage Act had left those wizards and witches of muggle ancestry at the mercy of the “purebloods.” Hermione had been horrified when several of her classmates had been betrothed without their consent.

The act demanded that by the age of eighteen that all muggleborn witches and wizards must be betrothed to a pureblooded witch or wizard. It also decreed that the marriage would have to take place within a year of the betrothal. You were allowed to choose only if more than one person petitioned. The Ministry required that the couple have a child during the first two years of marriage. If not, barring physical deterrents such as barrenness, the Ministry would imprison those who defied the decree. There were few, including the purebloods, who were willing to risk Azkaban on the sake of principle.

Draco Malfoy had been one of those to submit his proposal for Hermione to the Ministry’s newly formed Marriage Act Department. Harry was already betrothed to Ginny, and unable to petition for Hermione himself. Ron had died in the last stand against Voldemort, and was for Hermione the only person she would have gladly wed. She had always loved Ron, and felt that no one would be able to take his place. The idea of marrying Malfoy sickened and frightened her.

Hermione remembered clearly Malfoy’s gloating after his submission. He had cornered her in one of the hallways one afternoon that spring.

“Well, Granger. I’ll finally have a chance to be on top for once.” His gray eyes were filled with malice. “Your days of lording over me are through, mudblood.”

His pale lashes swept down as he openly assessed her. Hermione’s gazed followed his own.

She was average; nothing much had changed other than filling out a bit. Her hair was untamed as ever, and her small frame was attractively feminine. She was no beauty, and had never been one of the more sought after witches. She could not understand why Draco was set on her. There were muggleborn witches in his own house that would have gladly betrothed themselves to him. Why her? Their union would be a bloodbath. Hermione was not sure she would survive the wedding night, let alone almost three years of enforced proximity.

“You are completely delusional if you think I shall wed you, Malfoy,” she sneered, uncaring that it would anger him. “It’s not going to happen. I’d die first.”

Draco pressed his body into Hermione’s and bent to whisper in her ear, “If that’s the way you want it. Fine by me.”

He grabbed her hands and forced them behind her back. Holding them with one hand, he wound her hair around his free hand, baring her neck. She felt him bite down into the soft flesh. The feel of tearing flesh made her scream in pain. Draco held her firmly and licked the blood from her wound. Hormone struggled helplessly, attempting to kick him. Draco drew her closer, making it nearly impossible. Who knew the little weasel was so strong?

The sound of rending material and buttons scattering filled the hallway. Draco had ripped open her blouse. His thin lips made their way to the smooth flesh above her breasts. He bit her, again breaking the skin. Blood bloomed under the crescents that his teeth made. Draco stopped, and suddenly stood very still. In the distance footsteps echoed, someone was headed in their direction.

“You’ll be mine. Mark my words.” With that threat, he released her and disappeared down the dark hallway.

This is what she would be bound to in marriage. To man who would make her every day a living hell. It was a horrifying thought, for no one else had petitioned. There was no escape from the future that loomed ahead. Hermione’s shaking body sank to the floor. It was there Professor Snape found her minutes later.

“Miss Granger, are you alright?” Severus’ voice came from somewhere above her, piercing her trance-like state. Terror had frozen her ability to move or respond.

“You are bleeding!” Wordlessly Snape scooped up Hermione and took her to the infirmary.

Madame Pomphrey cleaned Hermione’s wounds and applied a healing salve to the area. Soon the horrible stinging faded. Huddled under warm blankets, Hermione drifted off to sleep. Never would she have guessed that as she slumbered Dumbledore and Snape were making their own plans for Hermione’s future safety.

Hermione shook herself from her reverie. It was useless to dwell on the past. Sometimes she thought of how different everything would be if it had been Ron she married. Pushing the thought from her mind she remembered that lately her problem wasn’t thinking about Ron…it was something entirely different.

“Mummy!!” A high, unformed voice called insistently. “Muuuummmmy!”

Mentally groaning, Hermione left the bed to respond to her daughter’s demands. Trudging into the room, Hermione spotted Serena in hunched in bed. Immediately the covers were thrown back and a tiny body launched itself at Hermione.

“Mummy, Teddy wants to eat me! He keeps staring at me! I don’t like him anymore!” Serena clenched handfuls of Hermione’s clothing as her list of complaints against her stuffed toy continued.

Hermione was torn betweee nee need to comfort her child and the knowledge that this was again one of her clever child’s ploys to stay up later. Scooping up her daughter, Hermione placed her back in the bed.

“Well, we’ll just have to give Teddy a new bed. He can sleep in the cupboard tonight.” Hermione picked up the to sto stow it away.

“He can see through the doors! I don’t want him in my room! Take him away!” Serena demanded stridently. Serena had two volumes. Silent and shouting. It seemed her every sentence was punctuated with an exclamation.

Willing herself to restrain her temper, Hermione took the bear and said, “I’ll put him where he can’t bother you. Now go to sleep, young lady.” Hermione tucked Serena back into the bed and kissed her forehead.

“Okay. Don’t close the door. G’night.” Serena’s black eyes watched as Hermione left her room. “Mummy! I think I’m thirsty.”

Hermione stopped at the doorjamb, “I’ll bring you something in a moment. Lie down, please.”

Leaving the door ajar, Hermione entered a room right next to the one she just exited. Crossing the room to the small bed, Hermione gazed down at her son. It was so difficult to believe that this wonderful child was the little demon spawn’s twin.

Hermione often felt guilty that she had secretly graced her child with such a mean name. But Serena was nothing like her name implied. Often Hermione would refer to her as ‘Serena the Intrepid’ for there was nothing that truly frightened the child. Tonight’s display was a but a ruse to avoid bedtime. Meanwhile Sebastian had fallen asleep in mere minutes.

Leaning forward she ran a gentle hand over his downy cheek. He still felt baby soft to her. At four his face was slowly loosing that baby look. His shock of curly black hair lay starkly against his pale skin. His face was etched firmly in her mind. Every time she looked at him, she could hardly believe he was hers. Sebastian was beautiful inside and out. Extraordinarily beautiful. He had brown eyes like her, but his were lighter and flecked with green. His face was reminiscent of a dark angel. More than one passerby had remarked on his looks, never noticing Serena at her side.

Serena was not an ugly child, in fact she was quite pretty herself with her long straight black hair and ebony eyes. But her eyes contained an expression that suggested she could see into you, and it made people quite uncomfortable. Her forthright manner not not help at all. Her father adored her and thought her little observations hilarious.

Thinking of Severus reminded Hermione that she had forgotten to check his stores for supplies. She was to go to Diagon Alley and didn’t want to forget anything. After giving Serena her water, Hermione rushed to add that to her ever-growing list of things to do.

In her haste she tripped over a plastic block. “Damn, can’t this place ever stay tidy,” she thought thoroughly irritated. It seemed as soon as she cleaned up the demon spawn soon had more toys flung all about the place

Hermione didn’t want to waste time as she wanted to get to bed soon. Today had been long and grueling. The twins had so much energy that at times she felt like they were vampires that fed on hers.

After a bath, Hermione was finally on her way to sleep when she heard the door open. Severus! “What was he doing here?” she thought. Severus hadn’t slept in their bedroom for over six months. Preferring his old rooms at the school, he would arrive for breakfast and dinner with the children, but hadn’t graced their bedroom in ages. It was this abandonment that had created much of Hermione’s frustration. Without Severus at hand to help out with the twins, Hermione had become overwhelmed.

She felt the bed dip as he sat down. She lisd ind intently as first one boot then another fell to the floor.

“What could he be about?,” she wondered. “What does he want?”

Other than their horrible wedding night, when Hermione had thankfully conceived the twins, Severus never touched her. Hermione never questioned Severus’ lack of sexual desire. Indeed, at first, she was much relieved that he left her in peace. He was almost as cold and distant as he had ever been. Warmth was something that he reserved only for his children.

As poor a husband as Severus was, Hermione realized that he truly loved their children. Weekends he spent hours playing with them. They in turn thought that their father governed the heavens. To them, Severus was a hero. He ignored Hermione as much as he could, without it being obvious to the children.

Though there were moments when she thought that Severbserbserved her with a rather odd glint in his eye. Especially if she were reading something frivolous aomanomantic. After all, it was a close to good sex as she would ever get. But Severus seemed to smirk at her underneath his cool façade. Hermione wondered if he weren’t laughing at her. It had occurred to Hermione that perhaps Severus satisfied himself outside of the marriage. Lately, the idea of Severus sleeping with someone else left her feeling angry and betrayed.

Hermione turned and sat up. Severus was already out of his robes and had begun to remove his shirt. At the sight of his chest, Hermione knew she had to stop this. There was no way she could sleep beside him tonight. He would have to return to Hogwarts.

“Severus, why are you here?” Hermione said bluntly, sounding very much like her daughter. “What do you want?”

Severus’ fingers slowed but still continued to unbutton his shirt.

“Last time I checked, this was my home as well,” his voice was deep and rough. She could smell firewhiskey strongly on him. “Is it suddenly a crime for a man to sleep in his own home?”

Mentally sighing, she now understood. He was drunk. In their five years of marriage, Hermione had never seen Severus in this state. She would just ignore him and allow him to sleep off his drunkenness.

“Severus, go to sleep.” Hermione lay back and made to turn back her ‘side’ of the bed. But before she could Severus pounced on her. Trapped beneath her husband’s startling heavy form, Hermione was unable to move.

“I never told you what I wanted.” His breath laced with alcohol bathed her face. It was not unpleasant. “Oh wife of mine, can you not guess what I want?”

His nose pushed against her neck, and she felt him inhale her scent. “ I want that which you continue to withhold from me. I want you to open for me, wife. I want you to take me inside and drown me in your wetness. I want to…” his voice trailed off.

Laying there in shock, Hermione realized that Severus had passed out cold. She gingerly pushed him onto his back. Thanking the gods that he remained unconscious, Hermione returned to her side.

She was unable to sleep. Severus’ words kept echoing in her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking of what would have happened if he hadn’t passed out. He’d felt so good between her thighs. But she would die rather than admit to desiring Severus. As the development was rather recent, she l dil didn’t quite have a handle on this emotion.

In the last several months, seeing Severus had caused a rather strange reaction in Hermione. She often found herself staring at his slender hands. Suddenly, his thin lips seemed austerely sensual, and she had had many daydreams of kissing him. Confused by her unruly feelings, Hermione had become quite easily angered lately. She privately blamed Severus for her current unhappiness, conveniently forgetting why he had married her. Forgetting that he had saved her life.

Flopping over in a haze of sexual and emotion deprivation, Hermione stared at Severus. She raised a timid hand to his face, afraid that he would wake at any moment. She gingerly touched his mouth. How she wanted it beneath her own. To taste him at last. Tears of frustration fell swiftly. Hermione was tired of being alone and ignored. Tired of wanting what seemed nigh impossible to have. Pulling back, she lay there lon long minutes before sleep overtook her and allowed her to live out her fantasies. For in her dreams, Severus never passed out.