Snape's Redemption

Chapter Nine – No Coward Soul is Mine

Hermione kept on throwing herself at the invisible barrier to no avail. She was stuck in the confines of Snape’s bed.

‘Professor Snape,’ a mocking little voice echoed in her brain. Hermione growled and threw herself flat on the ruined bed. She was trapped, that’s all there was to it. ‘At least you could cover yourself,’ her inner bossiness reminded her. Gingerly, she wrapped the sheet around her body and, when the scraping of the cotton over her nipples did not send her into another orgasm, sighed in relief. That potion had been horrid. Since Snape had left, she had been like a bitch in heat. The torn mattress and ripped sheets attested to that together with a nasty wetness between her legs.

How dare he, she fumed. He drugged her, carried her upstairs (which an eternally hopeful corner of her mind insisted was romantic), rudely fucked her and then left her. Left her alone. To her own devices. Although comforted with the knowledge that the obligatory sex was over, Hermione did feel oddly cheated. Not that she wanted him AT ALL, but if he was going to insist on using her, he could at least make it better than what had happened tonight. Realising she was grinding her teeth in frustration, she opened her mouth wide and took five deep, calming breaths.

Suddenly, she laughed remembering Snape’s threat to use her well tonight. She finally had a weapon at her disposal and was not afraid to use it.

“I fail to see what is so amusing to you, Miss Granger,” came Snape’s sibilant hiss. Hermione turned her head and watched him stride into the room, another bottle of what she assumed was an aphrodisiac, in his hand.

Hermione smiled.

Snape stopped at the foot of the bed and waved his wand, dispersing the barrier that had surrounded the bed.

Hermione beamed.

Snape frowned.

“Would you care to share the joke, Miss Granger?” he questioned, waving the bottle threateningly.

“You cannot have sex with me again,” she announced triumphantly.

He blinked.

“Oh, I assure you that I can, Miss Granger, if I so wish it.”

Hermione laughed.

“No, you can’t because sex by itself was not part of the Unbreakable Vow. I have to help you, which you insist means I have to bear your child,” Hermione knelt up on the bed and continued in her best lecturing tone. “However, to increase the chances of pregnancy, you can only ejaculate every second day. Otherwise, your sperm doesn’t have enough time to rejuvenate. Also, we only need to have sex between the tenth and sixteenth day of my cycle. Guess what - this is my sixteenth day. You ejaculated in me earlier this evening. So, no sex for another month unless, of course, I’m already pregnant and then no sex ever again,” she finished triumphantly.

Snape studied her intently as if she were a new and rare beast he was contemplating pickling. “What are you on about?”

“I went to the library today and looked up everything I could on pregnancy and fertilization. Then I checked with Mrs Weasley about witches and fertility and, let’s face it, no-one knows more than her about magical contraception and birth. So, if you force me to have sex outside of trying to impregnate me, you are not acting within the Vow. I can therefore legitimately call it rape and tell everyone I know about it. So I suggest you take that bottle and shove it up your arse,” she finished brightly.

Snape gave a harsh bark of laughter and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Hermione edged away from him, nervous. This was not the reaction she had expected.

“Were you expecting some more sport, Miss Granger?” Snape asked silkily. “For if you were, I am very sorry to disappoint you. Events this evening have rendered even your charms undesirable to me.”

He handed her the bottle and she automatically took it.

“Identify it, if you can,” he sneered.

Carefully, ensuring the sheet was still securely wrapped around her, Hermione removed the stopper and gently inhaled. There was no odour. She looked at it – clear as water.

“Veritaserum,” she replied promptly, years of schooling subduing all other emotions.

Snape raised an eyebrow and waved his hand, indicating that she continue.

“It’s the most powerful Truth Serum available and forces the drinker to tell the truth. Three drops is enough to make the subject tell their innermost secrets, if they are not prepared for its application. However, Veritaserum can be circumvented if you are good at Potions and have ingested the antidote or if you are a skilled Occlumens,” she finished, frowning as she noticed Snape’s rueful smile.

“And I am both ‘good at potions’ and ‘a skilled Occlumens’, am I not, Miss Granger?” he questioned.

Hitching the sheet up, Hermione wordlessly nodded.

“So, my peace offering will probably be rejected by you as you would not believe in my sincerity, is that right?” Reaching over, he plucked the vial out of her hands and gently placed it on the bedside table.

Hermione eyed him warily.

“What are you talking about?” she queried, slowly edging away from him whilst trying to retain her tenuous hold on the sheet.

Snape studied her, his flat, black eyes revealing nothing. He suddenly stood up and strode over to an old wardrobe and withdrew a grey flannel nightshirt. Hermione had never seen it before, but remembered Harry’s description of it from when he had been trapped by the false stair during their fourth year. Slightly shocked, she realised he was giving her an article of his clothing to wear.

“If you’re that prudish, Miss Granger, cover yourself fully,” he ordered, throwing the nightshirt at her and settling himself in his previous position on the bed. As he moodily stared at the door leading to the hallway, she whipped it up over her head and, as it settled around her body, dropped the sheet. Snape’s eyes cut towards her.

“Are you now able to concentrate on the task at hand?” he snidely questioned. At her nod he continued. “I came in here tonight offering to take Veritaserum and allow you to question me. However, I now realise that plan is redundant as you would not believe anything I said. You would believe that I had employed some sort of counter measure to protect myself. So I see no point in potentially embarrassing myself for you.”

He sat, silent and brooding. Tucking herself up against the headboard and as far away from her previous professor as possible, Hermione drew her legs up under the nightshirt and hugged them to her chest. She had no idea what was happening, but she was wary of what might happen if she provoked him further. She had prepared herself to deal with the sneering, sarcastic, sadistic Snape, not this seemingly repentant Snape.

“Umm … thank you?” Hermione tried, unsuccessfully, to figure out what caused this rather extraordinary change in events.

“What do you know about the Unbreakable Vow?” Snape asked, ignoring her dubious thanks.

“It’s unbreakable and if I don’t do what it entails, I’ll die,” she recited flatly.

“Not our vow, Miss Granger, but the Unbreakable Vow in general?”

Hermione shrugged and focused her gaze on her knees, slightly embarrassed that she did not have any further information. Remus had tried to talk to her earlier that day, but she had been too busy researching pregnancy. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Snape move and looked up to find him studying her with a sneer.

“Once again, I am proved correct after the fact,” he stated.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Ever since you arrived at Hogwarts, I have always asserted that you are not as smart as everyone believes. Oh, you knew your lessons,” he continued with a dismissive gesture when she made a small sound of protest. “That was more then most of the dunderheads ever did, but you never tried to find out about anything outside of schoolwork and what directly concerned you or your friends.”

“I read all the books that I could,” Hermione angrily defended herself, forgetting briefly that her own revelation of this fact had led her to him.

“Really?” he asked incredulously. “Did you read Deadly Declarations and Unlawful Undertakings?”

Hermione shook her head. She actually did remember seeing that book in the library but its garish, green cover with silver text had not appealed to her. She had one of her memorable encounters with Draco Malfoy and his goons just before she had first seen it and felt that it was a bit too Slytherin for her.

“I thought not,” Snape continued. “Let me guess – the colour offended your Gryffindor sensibilities. How strange, considering that you eventually latched onto my book – a most inappropriate book for a young Gryffindor.”

Hermione sighed. “Instead of just insulting me, why don’t you just tell me what I need to know?”

“Why, Miss Granger,” he said silkily. “Your wish is my command.”

Then, to her immense surprise, Snape bent down, removed his shoes and hoisted himself further up onto the bed, sitting himself beside her and leaning up against the bed head. His head dropped back as he closed his eyes and began to lecture.

“The Unbreakable Vow has existed for eons. Initially, it started as a vow to tie lesser wizards to a more powerful one, creating a following or army for him. Much like the medieval feudal system in the Muggle world. I am half Muggle, and I did have to attend a school,” he reminded her before continuing on. “Certain flaws became quickly apparent; masses of minions were of no use if they kept dying when they broke the Vow. So it began to be used as a way to bind wives to their husbands; basically be faithful or die. However, the Vows made became more and more vague, much like ours, and this again resulted in many deaths as the vow was unintentionally breached. It fell out of general use, but has been employed sporadically by Purebloods to ensure that a certain task was completed.

“Now, as to the Vow itself. You have illustrated your knowledge that breaking the Vow causes death. Completing the task set by the Vow renders it null and void and releases all parties. That is, of course, the main way to free yourself from it. However, in our case the Vow is extremely vague and open ended and there really is no specific task to complete.”

“Bear your child,” she whispered, appalled.

“That was not the Vow, Miss Granger,” he reminded her. “The Vow was to do anything in your power to help me, to say or do nothing that would hinder me and to tell no-one of the vow until the ‘whole sorry business’ is over. Basically, Miss Granger, you have bound yourself to help me and tell nobody of it for the rest of your life.”

“No,” she replied, strongly. “No, only until Voldemort was defeated. That’s what I meant.”

“It’s not what I meant,” he replied. “By binding yourself to me, it is my desires you are following. It is my understanding of what the ‘sorry business’ is, or was in this case.”

“Well, what were you thinking of then?” she demanded.

“My life.”

Silence filled the room. Hermione sat there shocked. Severus had not moved and his eyes were still closed.

“If I die, you are free from the Vow and all its obligations,” he offered. “However, if you die you are bound to serve me until your task is finished.”

“What do you mean?” But she already knew.

“I will acquire you as my own, personal ghost,” he replied grimly. “You will be bound to me in death as you were in life. However, when I die you will not be free. Oh, you will be free of me, but you will be stuck on this mortal coil as a ghost, unable to move on.”

He suddenly opened his eyes and turned his head towards her.

“Do you realise, Miss Granger, that I could decide that your death would be the best thing for me and thus damn you for all eternity?”

Her shocked face caused his familiar smirk to reappear on his face.

“Rest assured, I have no plans to that effect. Yet.”

Hermione resisted the urge to punch him in the nose. He continued on.

“I did not worry about the vagueness of the Vow we made as there was a way to break it if both parties consent, even if the terms are not fulfilled. However, the presence of the Bonder is required to break it.”

“Good,” Hermione exploded. “Get Draco in here now!”

“Even if I could, why would I?” he responded, arching one brow.

“Why else are you telling me all of this if you don’t want to break the Vow? Oh,” she realised. “You want to make sure that I don’t tell anyone what you did …” her voice trailed off as her brain caught up with her mouth.

“What do you mean ‘if I could’?” she questioned carefully.

Snape moved his head and contemplated his feet.

“Draco is dead,” he announced flatly. Hermione inhaled sharply.

“How?” she ground out.

“You might be wondering why I left you just as you were about to perform a delightful service on me,” he began to explain. Hermione glared furiously at him, remembering how, in the grip of the potion, she had fallen to her knees and started to raise his robes. “Someone was knocking at the door and, once I had put you away, I found it was the charming Mr and Mrs Malfoy. Whilst I was talking to Lucius, I left Narcissa with Draco. She killed him and then herself.”

He wiggled his feet and shifted slightly on the bed. Hermione’s face reflected both her shock and horror.

“Why didn’t you make our Vow more specific?” she finally asked.

“I wanted to scare you,” Severus confessed quietly. “That was one of the reasons I decided to use the Vow rather than any other means.” He rolled onto his hip and looked straight into her furious eyes. The familiar sneer appeared once more on his face. “You, so full of self-righteousness, believing you would be able to bring me back to help the Order, and thinking I would want to help the Order. I decided you deserved to suffer for the consequences of your incredibly stupid actions and to be shown the dangers of seeking knowledge in forbidden places. You should have stayed with your book learning. But you did not and now you have trapped us both.”

“ME?” Hermione screeched. “You’re blaming me! You were just telling me how dumb I was for only learning from books! Now you’re saying I should have stuck with that!”

“Better than seeking out a murderer!” Snape yelled back. He reared up and balanced himself on his hands and knees, like a huge panther. “Who was the IDIOT who took a drink from a man old enough to be her father? Who was the NITWIT that put herself at the mercy of a man like me?”

Hermione angrily wiped the spittle off her face that had flown from his mouth and, mirroring him, rose up on all fours.

“So I was an idiot!” she yelled back. “Fine, great – YOU WIN – I screwed up! But I DID NOT trap us in this. YOU DID! I also didn’t ask you to rape me, but you did! I didn’t ...”

“IT WASN’T RAPE!” Severus thundered. Rearing up, he reached out and grabbed her to him. “You may not have wanted it, but IT. WAS. NOT. RAPE.” He shook her emphatically.

“Fine!” she screamed. “But I’m not the … the … DUNDERHEAD who left Draco alone to be killed! And if I’m so stupid, why the HELL do you want me to have your baby? I must be …”

She stopped suddenly as she became aware of his erection pushing against her stomach. Eyes wide, she gazed up at him.

Severus gentled the grip he had on her arms and, leaning down, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Confused, Hermione wrenched herself out his weakened grasp.

Severus smiled.

Hermione frowned.

He laughed, crawled off the bed, and walked out of the room.

“Go to sleep, Miss Granger,” his voice floated back. “I need to dispose of the bodies Lucius thoughtfully left me.”

“What? Hey! We’re not finished here!” Hermione scrambled off the bed and ran to the door, only to have it slam in her face. She tried unsuccessfully to open it and then quickly scanned the room, looking for her wand. Not seeing it, she realised it must have fallen to the floor when her robe was ripped off. In frustration she kicked the door.

“This is NOT over, Snape!” she screeched.

As she stormed back over to the bed she faintly heard his reply.

“That’s Professor Snape, Miss Granger.”


A/n This is the title of an Emily Dickinson poem. The rest of the poem has no relation to this chapter – I just really liked the title and thought it applied to Hermione fighting back.

Claraminutes & GinnyW - what would this be without you? Still stuck in my head probably....

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