A Maid in the Devil's Manor
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
51
Views:
39,393
Reviews:
483
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
51
Views:
39,393
Reviews:
483
Recommended:
1
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.
The Reaction
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 13 ~ The Reaction
“This is pure garbage!” Hermione said, scowling, ”This isn’t news. All this column is, is rumor, conjecture and speculation with a nasty personal spin on it. Rita practically calls you a practicing deatheater. She makes no mention of your sacrifice, hero status or Order of Merlin medal!”
Severus looked at her calmly.
“I’m used to it, Miss Granger,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“She can’t get away with this,” Hermione growled, looking as if she would like to tear up the entire paper.
“It is a column, Miss Granger. It is written based on her view of things. Her opinions. See the disclaimer at the bottom that states the views of the author are not necessarily the views of the Prophet? It absolves the newspaper of any complicity.
“But they published this shit, Professor!” Hermione said. She took a vicious bite out of a piece of cheese and chewed angrily.
“Be that as it may, there is nothing we can do about it except answer any questions that are put to us by the Ministry. They will try and force you to disclose the project,” he said, looking at the witch.
“Can they do that?” she asked.
“Technically, no. You do not have to tell them what you are working on. But, they will probably fire you for not cooperating. If you do tell them, and tell them of your advances, they will most likely take your research and try to develop it on their own, and take all the credit, since you are an employee,” he said, taking a sip of coffee before buttering a slice of bread.
“This is so unfair,” Hermione said, popping a grape into her mouth. She looked at the Professor. “Especially to you. Rita makes you look like a common criminal in that column, and anyone that associates with you, suspect.”
“Yes,” Severus said quietly, “Which is why you do not see me socializing. Most are afraid to associate with me, Miss Granger, for fear of being accused of being in collusion with deatheaters. I fear I have cost you your job.”
Hermione sat in silence for a moment, looking at the dark wizard. She hadn’t realized what a miserable existence he lived because of what he had done for Dumbledore, the Order and the wizarding world. She always thought he was cold, and cruel because it was his nature, but in all actuality, it was his lot in life. It was all the world allowed him because of his choice to battle evil the only way he could, by immersing himself in it, and dragging himself out of the mire of it day after day, month after month and year after year to bring vital information that could be used to one day destroy it. And after he accomplished this, the world he helped save despised him. He had to be the loneliest man in the wizarding world. Did anyone ever show him any kindness?
Hermione felt her heart tugging in her chest as she looked at the Potions Master.
“No, it isn’t you that cost me my job, Professor. Ungratefulness, fear, distrust and hatred are the culprits here. Not you,” she said quietly. “If Rita hadn’t gotten hold of this, someone else eventually would have.”
“Yes,” Severus thought to himself, “But not this soon.”
“Plus, as of right now I am still employed at the Ministry. I imagine I will have a chance to repudiate these accusations,” she said, buttering a roll.
“A chance, yes,” Severus intoned. Lucius would be at that meeting. He’d make sure she was fired. He hated the young woman with a vengeance.
********************************
Lucius Malfoy rolled off his panting wife and sat on the side of the bed, cooling off. He had ridden her hard this morning, as if fucking her violently would make her conceive any faster. Since the death of his traitorous son Malfoy, he had made Narcissa get off the patch and back in his bed, determined to impregnate her with another heir. They had been at it for several years now, and gone to countless fertility wizards. Both were deemed fertile, but for some reason, she just wouldn’t get pregnant. He couldn’t divorce her. Divorce was unheard of in the wizarding world. He had several bastard children, but he wanted a true heir, acceptable through marriage to inherit his name and fortune.
“Leaf Ear!” he bellowed.
A small green elf with ears the shape of maple leaves appeared before the bed and bowed low, shaking.
“Y…y…yes, Master?” Leaf Ear squeaked weakly.
“Bring me the paper,” Lucius said. The elf immediately winked out, and reappeared a moment later with the folded Prophet in his hand. He bowed and handed it to Lucius, who dismissed him. The elf sighed with relief that he had gotten out of his Master’s room without receiving a kick or a blow.
Lucius opened the paper, and scanned the front page. His eyes widened with interest when he read the headline about a ministry employee possibly leaking information to deatheaters. Hurriedly he turned to page two. His cold gray eyes raced across Rita’s column. A nasty smile played around his lips as he read the accusation against Hermione. He knew she was innocent of any wrongdoing, just as he knew Severus would never give any aid to deatheaters. But he hated them both, and would take great joy in his role in getting Hermione thrown out of the Ministry on Monday.
He always believed it was that mudblood who turned his son away from the Dark Lord, and from him. And the damned girl never believed his story of being under the Imperious curse the entire time he served the Dark Lord, and was very vocal about this at his trial. Luckily galleons speak louder than words, and he managed to extricate himself nicely from the shadow of Azkaban, even landing a place on the Ministry board. She had witnessed Draco’s death at his hand, when he used the boy to block a killing curse. His son had been pleading with him to stop fighting and turn himself in when Lucius saw a wizard about to cast the deadly curse at him and swung the young wizard in front of him to block the spell, killing Draco instantly.
It was Hermione too, who cast the binding curse on him, taking him down. He was actually surprised she didn’t cast the killing curse. The hatred in her eyes was evident. The little bitch told him she would have killed him, but that would have been too kind, and it would do her heart better to know he would rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Well, she never saw that day.
When Voldemort died, and all the marks were annihilated, Lucius began to blink rapidly and ask where he was as the Auror’s came to take him. He pretended to see Draco’s lifeless body for the first time and went berserk with grief. He was quite convincing to everyone but those who really knew his evil. Severus, Hermione, Harry and Dumbledore at the fore of them all. But his donations to the Ministry, coupled with his acting ability and vast resources delivered him from his just due, and even their testimonies could not send him to Azkaban. Unlike Severus, he had no regrets about the evil he’d done. In fact, he missed it. The power. The sense of feeling like a god every time he raped a pleading woman, cast an Unforgivable or took a life.
Removing Hermione from her position at the Ministry, and blacklisting her from other Spell creating employ would be a bit of revenge, though in Lucius’ twisted mind, he would love to get his hands on her and have his own private Dark Revel with the mudblood witch, brutally raping and beating her until blood freely flowed from every orifice of her dying body. It would never happen now, but a wizard could dream, couldn’t he?
Lucius rolled back into bed, and on top of his protesting wife. His thoughts about Hermione had aroused him and he needed to work it off.
He couldn’t wait for Monday morning.
****************************
Severus and Hermione finished their light repast, and Hermione fished into her pocket and pulled out the folded list of equipment and supplies. She handed the creased paper to Severus, who looked at it distastefully.
“Really, Miss Granger. A list of such importance shouldn’t be folded like some fifth year’s love note,” he commented as he read over the list.
Hermione didn’t respond. She was deep in thought about what he had told her yesterday, when she accused him of never showing anyone kindness. She was as guilty as anyone of judging him harshly. And it disturbed her. She had always thought of herself as fair-minded. True, he was a nasty wizard, sarcastic, sharp, cruel and hurtful, but he was brilliant and dedicated as well. What he had gone through showed he had a rare strength of character and even nobility. A nobility that went unrecognized. He didn’t show kindness? She had never met a man more in need of kindness than the Potions Master, even if he did not encourage it. Why would he when he knew it would be transitory, and that the next burst of anti-snapism would drive that kindness away as well as those who purported to offer it? It had happened before.
She looked at the pale wizard, his long black hair framing his face, his black eyes moving downward, intense, focused. She realized he would look odd without that prominent nose, and he wasn’t as ugly as she thought he was. She just never really looked at him before. Then she remembered a few girls at Hogwarts who had the hots for him. They said his voice, his eyes, his hands and his command would make them wet, and they would gladly submit to him. She had thought they were crazy. Yet there were other things about him that those witches didn’t know, things she had learned about him this morning. Yes, as much as she hated to admit it, Professor Severus Snape was a sexy beast. And a tragic, untouchable one. Hermione found herself wondering when he last had the pleasure of being with a woman. She couldn’t imagine him making love to anyone. Fucking a woman…yes…she could see that. Thorough, meticulous and calculating, with great attention to detail, just like he was when brewing potions. No emotional connection. Just the need for release. So why was she getting a little warm inside?
Suddenly, Hermione realized the Professor was looking at her, his black eyes locked to her amber ones, concern on his face.
“Are you all right, Miss Granger?” he asked her with his smooth voice. She looked at him blankly.
“I said, are you all right, Miss Granger?” the Potions Master said again, leaning forward a little.
She snapped out of it.
“Yes. Yes I’m fine, Professor,” she replied, blinking her eyes a little rapidly.
“Have you eaten enough?” he asked her, looking at her plate. It still had half a roll on it.
“Yes. I’m full,” she answered him, pushing the plate away slightly. She finished her milk.
The Professor rose.
“Well then, I think we should be off to procure your equipment,” he said, walking around the table and pulling out her chair. Hermione realized how much of a gentleman the Potions Master was. Even this she had taken for granted. Not many wizards were so attentive. Gods, she didn’t like where her thoughts were going. Maybe she had been alone too long when her snarky ex-professor started looking like beefcake.
“What did you think of the list?” Hermione asked him, trying to clear her head of the disturbing thoughts she was having concerning the Potions Master.
“I thought it was adequate,” he replied, heading for the door.
Together they entered the corridor and walked to the main door in silence.
Severus surreptiously cut his eyes over at the young witch walking beside him. She had been staring at him, lost in some internal dialogue. Somehow he felt it wasn’t concerning the project. Her body language was all wrong. She had a tendency to tap her right index finger when she was thinking something cerebral. This time she was rubbing her right thumb over the back of her left hand in a slow caressing motion. At one point, her eyes went a bit liquid, a little like molten gold. The effect had been…well…a little arousing. It was as if she were looking at a lover. He had been tempted to delve into her mind, to see what she was thinking about so intently. He was quite an accomplished Legilimens, but knowing Miss Granger, she may have felt his intrusion. He would hate for her to catch him prying into her mind. She’d probably explode.
Severus opened the main doors and they walked to the end of the portico. He offered Hermione his arm. This wasn’t necessary for them to apparate, because both knew where the supply shop was, but Hermione took his arm anyway. With a crack of thunder, they were gone.
******************************
A/N: Hm. Hermione is starting to have some pretty hot thoughts about the Potions Master, as well as coming to terms with her previous perception of him. She is beginning to intrigue him as well, and not just for her brain. I’m working on it ya’ll. Be patient. I hope you liked that little Lucius interlude. He’s pretty hot too, but just too damn twisted. Sounds like he puts his wife to work doesn’t it? Well, on to the next chapter. Please review.
*******************************
Chapter 13 ~ The Reaction
“This is pure garbage!” Hermione said, scowling, ”This isn’t news. All this column is, is rumor, conjecture and speculation with a nasty personal spin on it. Rita practically calls you a practicing deatheater. She makes no mention of your sacrifice, hero status or Order of Merlin medal!”
Severus looked at her calmly.
“I’m used to it, Miss Granger,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“She can’t get away with this,” Hermione growled, looking as if she would like to tear up the entire paper.
“It is a column, Miss Granger. It is written based on her view of things. Her opinions. See the disclaimer at the bottom that states the views of the author are not necessarily the views of the Prophet? It absolves the newspaper of any complicity.
“But they published this shit, Professor!” Hermione said. She took a vicious bite out of a piece of cheese and chewed angrily.
“Be that as it may, there is nothing we can do about it except answer any questions that are put to us by the Ministry. They will try and force you to disclose the project,” he said, looking at the witch.
“Can they do that?” she asked.
“Technically, no. You do not have to tell them what you are working on. But, they will probably fire you for not cooperating. If you do tell them, and tell them of your advances, they will most likely take your research and try to develop it on their own, and take all the credit, since you are an employee,” he said, taking a sip of coffee before buttering a slice of bread.
“This is so unfair,” Hermione said, popping a grape into her mouth. She looked at the Professor. “Especially to you. Rita makes you look like a common criminal in that column, and anyone that associates with you, suspect.”
“Yes,” Severus said quietly, “Which is why you do not see me socializing. Most are afraid to associate with me, Miss Granger, for fear of being accused of being in collusion with deatheaters. I fear I have cost you your job.”
Hermione sat in silence for a moment, looking at the dark wizard. She hadn’t realized what a miserable existence he lived because of what he had done for Dumbledore, the Order and the wizarding world. She always thought he was cold, and cruel because it was his nature, but in all actuality, it was his lot in life. It was all the world allowed him because of his choice to battle evil the only way he could, by immersing himself in it, and dragging himself out of the mire of it day after day, month after month and year after year to bring vital information that could be used to one day destroy it. And after he accomplished this, the world he helped save despised him. He had to be the loneliest man in the wizarding world. Did anyone ever show him any kindness?
Hermione felt her heart tugging in her chest as she looked at the Potions Master.
“No, it isn’t you that cost me my job, Professor. Ungratefulness, fear, distrust and hatred are the culprits here. Not you,” she said quietly. “If Rita hadn’t gotten hold of this, someone else eventually would have.”
“Yes,” Severus thought to himself, “But not this soon.”
“Plus, as of right now I am still employed at the Ministry. I imagine I will have a chance to repudiate these accusations,” she said, buttering a roll.
“A chance, yes,” Severus intoned. Lucius would be at that meeting. He’d make sure she was fired. He hated the young woman with a vengeance.
********************************
Lucius Malfoy rolled off his panting wife and sat on the side of the bed, cooling off. He had ridden her hard this morning, as if fucking her violently would make her conceive any faster. Since the death of his traitorous son Malfoy, he had made Narcissa get off the patch and back in his bed, determined to impregnate her with another heir. They had been at it for several years now, and gone to countless fertility wizards. Both were deemed fertile, but for some reason, she just wouldn’t get pregnant. He couldn’t divorce her. Divorce was unheard of in the wizarding world. He had several bastard children, but he wanted a true heir, acceptable through marriage to inherit his name and fortune.
“Leaf Ear!” he bellowed.
A small green elf with ears the shape of maple leaves appeared before the bed and bowed low, shaking.
“Y…y…yes, Master?” Leaf Ear squeaked weakly.
“Bring me the paper,” Lucius said. The elf immediately winked out, and reappeared a moment later with the folded Prophet in his hand. He bowed and handed it to Lucius, who dismissed him. The elf sighed with relief that he had gotten out of his Master’s room without receiving a kick or a blow.
Lucius opened the paper, and scanned the front page. His eyes widened with interest when he read the headline about a ministry employee possibly leaking information to deatheaters. Hurriedly he turned to page two. His cold gray eyes raced across Rita’s column. A nasty smile played around his lips as he read the accusation against Hermione. He knew she was innocent of any wrongdoing, just as he knew Severus would never give any aid to deatheaters. But he hated them both, and would take great joy in his role in getting Hermione thrown out of the Ministry on Monday.
He always believed it was that mudblood who turned his son away from the Dark Lord, and from him. And the damned girl never believed his story of being under the Imperious curse the entire time he served the Dark Lord, and was very vocal about this at his trial. Luckily galleons speak louder than words, and he managed to extricate himself nicely from the shadow of Azkaban, even landing a place on the Ministry board. She had witnessed Draco’s death at his hand, when he used the boy to block a killing curse. His son had been pleading with him to stop fighting and turn himself in when Lucius saw a wizard about to cast the deadly curse at him and swung the young wizard in front of him to block the spell, killing Draco instantly.
It was Hermione too, who cast the binding curse on him, taking him down. He was actually surprised she didn’t cast the killing curse. The hatred in her eyes was evident. The little bitch told him she would have killed him, but that would have been too kind, and it would do her heart better to know he would rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Well, she never saw that day.
When Voldemort died, and all the marks were annihilated, Lucius began to blink rapidly and ask where he was as the Auror’s came to take him. He pretended to see Draco’s lifeless body for the first time and went berserk with grief. He was quite convincing to everyone but those who really knew his evil. Severus, Hermione, Harry and Dumbledore at the fore of them all. But his donations to the Ministry, coupled with his acting ability and vast resources delivered him from his just due, and even their testimonies could not send him to Azkaban. Unlike Severus, he had no regrets about the evil he’d done. In fact, he missed it. The power. The sense of feeling like a god every time he raped a pleading woman, cast an Unforgivable or took a life.
Removing Hermione from her position at the Ministry, and blacklisting her from other Spell creating employ would be a bit of revenge, though in Lucius’ twisted mind, he would love to get his hands on her and have his own private Dark Revel with the mudblood witch, brutally raping and beating her until blood freely flowed from every orifice of her dying body. It would never happen now, but a wizard could dream, couldn’t he?
Lucius rolled back into bed, and on top of his protesting wife. His thoughts about Hermione had aroused him and he needed to work it off.
He couldn’t wait for Monday morning.
****************************
Severus and Hermione finished their light repast, and Hermione fished into her pocket and pulled out the folded list of equipment and supplies. She handed the creased paper to Severus, who looked at it distastefully.
“Really, Miss Granger. A list of such importance shouldn’t be folded like some fifth year’s love note,” he commented as he read over the list.
Hermione didn’t respond. She was deep in thought about what he had told her yesterday, when she accused him of never showing anyone kindness. She was as guilty as anyone of judging him harshly. And it disturbed her. She had always thought of herself as fair-minded. True, he was a nasty wizard, sarcastic, sharp, cruel and hurtful, but he was brilliant and dedicated as well. What he had gone through showed he had a rare strength of character and even nobility. A nobility that went unrecognized. He didn’t show kindness? She had never met a man more in need of kindness than the Potions Master, even if he did not encourage it. Why would he when he knew it would be transitory, and that the next burst of anti-snapism would drive that kindness away as well as those who purported to offer it? It had happened before.
She looked at the pale wizard, his long black hair framing his face, his black eyes moving downward, intense, focused. She realized he would look odd without that prominent nose, and he wasn’t as ugly as she thought he was. She just never really looked at him before. Then she remembered a few girls at Hogwarts who had the hots for him. They said his voice, his eyes, his hands and his command would make them wet, and they would gladly submit to him. She had thought they were crazy. Yet there were other things about him that those witches didn’t know, things she had learned about him this morning. Yes, as much as she hated to admit it, Professor Severus Snape was a sexy beast. And a tragic, untouchable one. Hermione found herself wondering when he last had the pleasure of being with a woman. She couldn’t imagine him making love to anyone. Fucking a woman…yes…she could see that. Thorough, meticulous and calculating, with great attention to detail, just like he was when brewing potions. No emotional connection. Just the need for release. So why was she getting a little warm inside?
Suddenly, Hermione realized the Professor was looking at her, his black eyes locked to her amber ones, concern on his face.
“Are you all right, Miss Granger?” he asked her with his smooth voice. She looked at him blankly.
“I said, are you all right, Miss Granger?” the Potions Master said again, leaning forward a little.
She snapped out of it.
“Yes. Yes I’m fine, Professor,” she replied, blinking her eyes a little rapidly.
“Have you eaten enough?” he asked her, looking at her plate. It still had half a roll on it.
“Yes. I’m full,” she answered him, pushing the plate away slightly. She finished her milk.
The Professor rose.
“Well then, I think we should be off to procure your equipment,” he said, walking around the table and pulling out her chair. Hermione realized how much of a gentleman the Potions Master was. Even this she had taken for granted. Not many wizards were so attentive. Gods, she didn’t like where her thoughts were going. Maybe she had been alone too long when her snarky ex-professor started looking like beefcake.
“What did you think of the list?” Hermione asked him, trying to clear her head of the disturbing thoughts she was having concerning the Potions Master.
“I thought it was adequate,” he replied, heading for the door.
Together they entered the corridor and walked to the main door in silence.
Severus surreptiously cut his eyes over at the young witch walking beside him. She had been staring at him, lost in some internal dialogue. Somehow he felt it wasn’t concerning the project. Her body language was all wrong. She had a tendency to tap her right index finger when she was thinking something cerebral. This time she was rubbing her right thumb over the back of her left hand in a slow caressing motion. At one point, her eyes went a bit liquid, a little like molten gold. The effect had been…well…a little arousing. It was as if she were looking at a lover. He had been tempted to delve into her mind, to see what she was thinking about so intently. He was quite an accomplished Legilimens, but knowing Miss Granger, she may have felt his intrusion. He would hate for her to catch him prying into her mind. She’d probably explode.
Severus opened the main doors and they walked to the end of the portico. He offered Hermione his arm. This wasn’t necessary for them to apparate, because both knew where the supply shop was, but Hermione took his arm anyway. With a crack of thunder, they were gone.
******************************
A/N: Hm. Hermione is starting to have some pretty hot thoughts about the Potions Master, as well as coming to terms with her previous perception of him. She is beginning to intrigue him as well, and not just for her brain. I’m working on it ya’ll. Be patient. I hope you liked that little Lucius interlude. He’s pretty hot too, but just too damn twisted. Sounds like he puts his wife to work doesn’t it? Well, on to the next chapter. Please review.