#4 ~ The \"Up Against the Wall\" Wars

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine.
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Chapter 12 ~ The Descent of Darkness

Upon her return to the castle, Hermione descended to the dungeon area, alert and ready for anything. No attack came. She entered her office, warded the door then headed to her rooms and checked them carefully, wand drawn in case Severus decided on a quick ambush. She found nothing out of the ordinary. She set about changing all her wards, particularly in her lab and entrance to her private rooms and bedchambers. She set alarms to sound if the wards were any way tampered with. Looking at the door between their laboratories, she decided to seal her side off completely for the interim. If Severus needed access, he could come round through her office, with permission. She cast the spell and the door was walled over. She placed a ward over the new wall, just in case he tried to restore the door.

She checked the time. There was still twenty minutes left of breakfast. She decided to put in an appearance. There was a good chance Severus would be there, since this was the weekend and he generally took a late breakfast. She walked back to her bedroom and quickly unpacked and put her few things away, then donned her staff robes She decided not to use the staff entrance, but to enter through the double doors so she could get a good look at Severus, and he at her.

She left her rooms and headed for the Great Hall.

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Severus sat at the staff table, toying with his bacon and thinking about Hermione’s return. The rest of the staff was blatantly ignoring him. He had been in such a vile and snarky mood all this week, even basic pleasantries of hello and good-bye had ceased. He had taken a record number of points from Gryffindor house, and Albus was forced to talk with him about his vindictiveness. Taking fifty points for a student looking asinine, was not a legitimite call, as that was the normal expression for most everyone. Snape restored the points, under duress, of course.

His fellow professors and the student body as a whole all attributed his black demeanor to the absence of Hermione, and lack of regular sex. This was true to a point, but his worries about what would happen upon her return was more of a factor than anything. He hoped that she had trained hard, for both their sakes, hard enough to take him down five consecutive times. He was disconsolately chewing a bit of biscuit when the doors to the Great Hall opened.


Hermione walked down the aisle as if she owned it, smiling and waving to all the staff members, except one. Relieved smiles creased the faces of staff and students alike. Their chestnut haired savior had returned, hopefully to slay the snarky dragon of the dungeons with her special type of weapon. How close to the truth they were, they didn’t realize.

Severus scowled as he watched her approach. As a man who survived most of his life through his ability to read the body language of others, and act accordingly, he noticed the difference in his lover immediately. Her walk was much more fluid, sensual…feral, and dare he think it…dangerous? Her eyes held a kind of gleam, a new sharpness as they slid from professor to professor. They narrowed slightly when they focused on him. He felt a little hitch in his throat. The challenge in them was undeniable. In that one look she had told him in no uncertain terms, that the gauntlet had been cast down.

Hermione ascended the stairs to the raised dais and took her usual seat next to him, drawing out the chair swiftly and seating herself before he could offer his usual polite assistance. Without acknowledging him, she looked down at her empty plate and said, “Steak, rare, and soft scrambled eggs.”

In a moment, a positively bloody steak and eggs appeared before her. She cut her cat-like eyes at him.

“Pass the biscuits, please?” she asked him over-sweetly.

“Certainly,” he half-growled, miffed that she hadn’t greeted him. He passed the plate of warm biscuits to her and watched as she selected one, and sopped it into the steaming blood and bit into it with half-closed eyes.

“Mmm, that’s good,” she said. She picked up her knife and fork, cutting into the almost raw steak, and popped a dripping piece into her mouth. She chewed it with great pleasure, then swallowed it down, licking her lips.

Severus had never seen Hermione eat anything rare. She generally liked her meat cooked to an almost leathery texture. It was the source of many little arguments over quiet suppers. Severus couldn’t understand why one would cook all the flavor and texture out of a porterhouse steak, and claimed she might as well eat a slab of chuck, for all the difference it made. Well, it seemed his little minx’s taste had changed.

As he watched her eat, the dream they shared came back to him, and he hardened uncomfortably at the remembrance of her being at his total mercy, or lack of it. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and Hermione twisted in her seat to look at him. Her eyes held a hardness that he hadn’t seen directed at him before. She was angry, but of course she would be angry. She was looking at a man out to prove she couldn’t protect herself, a man who had practically sworn to make her suffer pain at his hands.


Dropping his eyes to his cup of black coffee and non-chalantly stirring it, he sneered, “Is there some particular reason you are staring at me? I’ve been sitting here the entire time, though you acted as if I was invisible. Did I suddenly pop into existence for you?”

“I’m staring at you because you have the audacity to have a hard-on, when you know our relationship is currently at…at another level,” she whispered angrily. “I know what you’re up to, Severus Snape. Deatheater rape? That’s how you intend to punish me? I’ll cut it off first. I’ll cut it up, dry it out and use it in a male enhancement potion!” she hissed, her eyes dark with wrath.

Severus’ cock softened immediately. Talk about a deflating draft. Hermione’s eyes looked triumphant. “That’s right. Fear me, because I’m ready for you. Bring it on, she said, flexing her fingers in a “come on” motion. Severus stared at her darkly, coldness spreading across his features like an ice flow.

“Oh, I’ll bring it all right, Hermione. Full force. I’m not a golem,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “If you thwart me once, it’ll be luck, and nothing more. I highly doubt seven days of training has made that much of a difference in your deplorable defensive skills. I see your over-inflated and erroneous notion of Gryffindor courage is once again leading you down the wrong road. Last time that happened, you were only petrified…”

He leaned forward so they were almost nose to nose. “but this time it will be me wielding the stone!” he snapped, rising from the table and exiting the Hall with a great swish of robes.

Hermione looked down the table. All the other staff members were leaning forward, having tried their best to hear the obviously heated exchange between her and Severus. The look of disappointment on their faces showed they hadn’t been successful. Only Dumbledore looked undisturbed and thoughtful.

Minerva cleared her throat and said, “We’re glad to have you back, Mrs. Granger. Severus has been a fright without your presence. I take it your family is well?”

Hermione’s cover story had been she was visiting her mother and father for a week.

“Yes, professor,” she responded evenly, “Everyone is fine.”

“Delighted to hear it,” the Transfiguration Professor replied, turning back to Pomfrey, who was studying Hermione as if she’d like to give her a once over in the hospital wing. The medi-witch knew something strange was going on. The instructions she received from Albus not to treat Hermione until he told her otherwise grated on her sensibilities. She was a healer after all, her whole purpose in life was to bring comfort. But she had to obey the Headmaster, whether she agreed with him or not.

“Are you all right, Poppy?” Minerva asked, glancing back at Hermione and back.

“Fine, fine, Minerva,’ she replied distantly.

Breakfast continued on without incident, with Hermione chatting affably with her fellow staff members. But in the back of her mind, her thoughts were on Severus, and what he could possibly be doing now.

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Severus stormed toward the dungeons like a force of nature, stopping only to take points from a Hufflepuff who had inadvertently dropped a load of books he was carrying in the corridor. Severus cited “cluttering up the hallways” as a reason for the deduction, then stalked away, leaving the wide-eyed student gaping like a fish out of water.

He unwarded his office and entered it, scowling blackly. How dare she threaten him? With castration at that! Of all the idiotic, overconfident statements to make. He was seething. And here he was worrying about her delicate sensibilities, how she would react, how horrible he’d feel hurting her. Right now, he wanted to hurt her. The smug little wench.

Severus was never a man to stomach blatant defiance, and although Hermione had brought out much of the good in him, there remained much darkness and cruelty inside him, ready to strike like the symbol of his house. The problem was, although Severus loved Hermione, this was all new to him, and he equated love with ownership, and desired her deference and obedience in all things, though did make an effort for her sake, to be fair-minded.

When he made love to her, he was in reality establishing his power over her, claiming his territory in no uncertain terms. He reveled in her loss of self in the process, how that formidable mind and inner strength was no longer evident, stolen by the power of his body over hers. There was no spellwork, no research, no great stretches of logic occupying her mind then. She was totally his, and when he was fucking her senseless, all she knew at that moment, was him. And he treasured that feeling jealously. Now, after only a week left to her own devices, she was attempting to break away.

If he could stop to think, he’d see her new-found confidence and sense of self was a natural extension of her developing new skills, and her defiance the result of being forced to face off against him, rather than he just trusting that she would be able to defend herself. Severus truly was a control freak, wanting hard evidence in every aspect of his relationship with her, and her relationship with the world.

She was in danger. He wanted her to protect herself. If she didn’t apply herself, she would be hurt. It was up to him to show her how that hurt would be…a warning, a preview. Harsh but effective. For him, pain was always an answer. She should be more respectful of him, of the hard task he was performing for her sake. But instead, she was unappreciative. She had no idea how he had suffered over this while she was rolling around with golems. Yes, he was angry, angry enough to forget his purpose, angry enough to chance losing her. If she did leave him, at least he’d have the satisfaction of knowing she would never, ever forget him.

A veil of darkness was falling down on him, squeezing out all kindness, all empathy, forcing that nugget of Love to a place deep inside his heart, and folding over it so no light escaped. A cruel cast fell upon his face, one that hadn’t been there for a long, long time. It settled in like an old friend. Defy me? Threaten me?

He fell back on the bed, his face twisted with hard resolve. Yes, he would rely on his strengths, just as the muggle magazine had directed when seeking success. His strength with Hermione was fucking her, hard. And despite the dream, he knew she wouldn\'t like it. He was counting on it. He scowled, staring at the ceiling.

Fine, Hermione…Miss Granger…you have no idea of the pain a deatheater can inflict…but by the gods, you will. You WILL respect that danger. You will respect me! I will come for you tonight. And if it is to be the last time I experience the pleasures of your body, then believe me, there will be no quarter.

He rolled off the bed and walked to his study. He was sure that the first thing Hermione did was re-ward her rooms to make them inaccessible to him. Grabbing a handful of floopowder from an ornate box, he tossed it into the flame.

“Headmaster?” he called through the grate.

“Yes, Severus?” Albus replied from his office

“I wish to start Hermione’s testing tonight,” the Potions Master stated, “I wonder if you might do me a great favor…”

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A/N: Holy Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Batman! This is crazy…Severus, come back! Man.