A Working Relationship

A Working Relationship


Disclaimer: All canon characters are the property of JK Rowling and those with whom she has agreed contracts. This story was written for practice not profit.


Desperate Measures


Severus pushed open the door, worried as to what he would find behind it. The room was in darkness and the limited light in the hallway did not shine far enough into the room for him to be able to see Hermione. If Lucius had harmed her he would die for it as the first opportunity.

“Lumos,” he said confidently, hoping that the sound of his voice would serve to reassure her.

The lights came on, casting a sickly glow over the underground room. The room was too large to describe as a cell, but that was obviously its intended purpose. The floor was stone and the walls damp and dirty plaster. There was a thin, stained mattress in the far corner but no bedding. Hermione was huddled, shivering in the recess beside the chimney breast. Her head was bowed and her hair had fallen forward so it draped over her bare legs.

“Hermione,” he said gently.

His voice registered with her this time and she lifted her head to peer at him through the curtain of hair. He crossed the room swiftly, but stopped a short distance away when he realised that his approach was not relaxing her. In fact it appeared he was making her even more tense. Whilst he had an urge to take her into his arms and get this business over with, he knew that the more stressed she was, the more likely she was to injure him, whether she intended it or not. He had been called on to make good the damage she’d done to Lucius earlier and didn’t want to risk suffering likewise. If she threw him across the room the Dark Lord would suspect all that Severus had told him earlier. At all costs he must appear to be in complete control.

She brushed her hair back from her face and he could see evidence of recent tears on her grimy face. He risked taking another step closer.

“Hermione,” he said again, looking her in the eye.

She blinked and her mouth twitched, but she didn’t say anything. Severus fought to clamp down on his panic. Was she mentally damaged from her encounter with Lucius? Just what had the bastard done to her? Removed some of her clothes that much was evident… how far had he taken it before she managed to defend herself? He crouched down, putting his face on a level with hers. Mindful of his observers he spoke again, sharply this time.

“What the hell have you been playing at?” he demanded, praying that his tactic would not backfire on him.

She looked startled at that and Severus felt a mild sense of relief. At least she was showing some kind of response.

“If you’re going to kill me….” Her voice was quiet and trailed off into inaudibility before she finished her sentence.

“What did you say?” he asked, leaning forward.

He realised his mistake instantly as her arm shot out towards him. He grabbed her wrist instinctively before he even realised she was holding a vicious looking hunting knife. He saw rather than felt the scratch she gave him, as it began to fill with blood. A momentary anger gave him the strength to manhandle her from his vulnerable position and within seconds he had wrenched her towards him so hard that she let go of the knife in her pain as he used his body weight to pin her to the floor. He brought his right hand down hard and splayed it over her face as he whispered, “Cogitatio Inaudire”

Stop squirming and listen!

Hermione went rigid with shock. He was speaking inside her head.

I’ll take that to mean you can hear my voice. Keep listening and try to relax. I’m not going to harm you, but we are being watched. If the Dark Lord thinks you’re not under my control then he won’t let me take you with me when I go.

“Lucius said you were going to come to kill me,” she whispered, on the verge of tears.

“You and I are going to have to have words about how you treat my friends,” he said out loud. “There’s a price to pay for that kind of behaviour!”

He moved his hand off her face and brought his mouth down to hers. He began to kiss her as if overwhelmed by passion.

Play along with this Hermione. I’ve secured your release, but at a price. The Dark Lord is convinced by my arguments about why Lucius was wrong to take you and he’s agreed to let me have you back. However, because of your run in with Lucius… and also I suspect for his own enjoyment he wishes to see you ‘used’. I’m the only one who will touch you, but we are observed…. Stroke my hair if you understand me.

She pulled her arm free and began to play with his hair as instructed. She also made an effort to contribute to the kissing.

In a moment I’m going to let you up. If you consent to my fulfilling the terms of your release I want you to take me by the hand and lead me towards the mattress in the corner. If you don’t consent… I’ve brought your wand… We can go out there and do as much damage as we can before… well before whatever happens…but, bear in mind that we probably won’t die quickly…and your fate will be out of my control. Take a moment to consider.

He continued to kiss her and she kissed him back running both her hands up and down his back as she did so. After a moment he pulled back and looked at her face. She was obviously frightened still, but she had a look of steely resolve in her eyes and he judged it safe to allow her to make her choice. Lowering his head again he kissed her gently on her forehead and hoped she would recognise it as a genuine gesture of his affection. He got to his feet and helped her up, noting that she only wore her knickers and blouse. She reached up and unclasped his cloak allowing it to fall to the floor beside him. He saw it cover the knife as it fell. He stooped to kiss her again.

We’ll take that with us when we go. If we ever get the chance I’ll see to it that you can put it between Malfoy’s ribs. This will be avenged!

She ran her finger down the side of his face in response and pulled away slightly to kiss his cheek. Grasping his hand, she led him towards the mattress. He followed her, unbuttoning his coat with his free hand as he began to panic inwardly at the thought of what he was about to do.

I don’t want to hurt you. I can use Imperio if wish. You’ll almost feel as though you want this. Pinch my earlobe as a sign.

She didn’t respond. Had the spell failed during the lapse of contact?

Can you still hear me? Give me a sign.

She took the hand she was holding to her mouth and kissed the tips of his fingers. Reaching the mattress, she turned and whispered, “No pinching.”

I really don’t want to hurt you. You’re going to have to pretend to enjoy this! You’re going to pretend you’re used to doing this with me! Can you do that?

In answer she began to push his coat from his shoulders.

On your own head be it. I’ll talk you through…follow my lead and try to relax as much as you can… down onto the mattress.

She did as he bade her and he unbuttoned his waistcoat and joined her on it. Close to, the stains were pretty disgusting so he drew his wand and performed ‘Scourgify’ on it. It made some small improvement, but it was still by no means appealing. Hermione was beginning to tremble so he drew her into an embrace to calm her. He was careful to allow his face to harden as he held her, in the hopes that Voldemort would see his tenderness as a mere pretence.

My love, I don’t want to hurt you. This is not how it should have been between us… I will make this up to you… if it takes me forever.

“Love.” He heard the word even though she did little more than breathe it into his shirt.
Hermione, you will be, you are my love… for as long as you wish it… forever if you can tolerate it… I swear you will have anything and everything I can give you.

She pulled herself free of his embrace and he looked down at her. He could see tears in her eyes.

How I wish this could be different… I would lay you down on sheets of silk on a soft bed… my own bed.

He pushed her back to lie down and propped himself over her.

I took the liberty of ordering you a nightdress from the dressmaker. It’s ivory satin and soft lace. I told her exactly what I wanted for you. I hope you’ll like it. It was meant to be a surprise for you when everything else was delivered. It had crossed my mind that you might choose to wear it when you came to me tonight. Not that you aren’t beautiful in your own right… I had such ideas about how to treat you properly.

“Tell me,” she whispered directly into his ear. He could hardly hear her and prayed that their audience could not. Just in case he began to kiss her as he continued to speak into her mind.

The idea in my mind is that you will be my wife. A wizard marries for many reasons….to ally bloodlines… to seek wealth… to sate youthful passion… ‘true love’ whatever that may mean. I admit that I seek to possess something I perceive to be beyond purchase. I don’t deserve you… I never will… My esteem for you is such that I doubt any man could. You’re powerful, intelligent and you have the courage to wear your heart on your sleeve and an instinctive moral compass to guide you… I can’t tell you how much I envy you that. I’m doing you such a wrong here. I swear if I had a heart it would break. Hermione, I don’t want those bastards to see you. What are you doing?

He broke off as she began to wriggle out from underneath him. Had she changed her mind? He eased off her to allow her to move freely and had to fight to keep his face impassive as she raised herself up enough to pull her shirt over her head.

“Let the bastards look all they want!” she said defiantly. “As long as you’re going to give me what I want!”

Outwardly defiant, obviously an act from this proximity, but if she had the strength to go this far… He clutched her and kissed her hard as he felt her tremble.

My sweet brave little lioness.

He cupped one soft breast reverently in his palm.

You are so very beautiful… I can see you now in the soft light of my chamber… easing a shoulder out of your gown so I might be permitted to worship at your breast…you’re grazed….let me heal you.

He kept his hand in position and whispered the same healing spell that he had used the night they had been discovered… such a short space of time ago. Hermione felt a glow of warmth as the spell did its work.

“Severus,” she said and began to untie his black neckcloth. How he wished he could hear her speak as she could hear him. She was in control of herself… that was good, but how on earth would she cope with the trauma of a physical union in these circumstances?

I think we’d better get this over with quickly… it’s too much of a strain for you… I know a spell to help you through the act… it won’t affect your mind, it will just provide the lubrication you would produce yourself, under better circumstances…I don’t want to cause you pain…touch my hair if you consent.

He sighed in relief as she brushed back the hair that had fallen over his forehead. He took his hand away from her breast and placed it lightly over her mound. She stiffened at the unaccustomed contact and hid her face in his shoulder.

“Ungere,” he whispered and felt the moisture begin to seep through the thin fabric. He was shocked to feel her small hand cup him in return. He was still utterly flaccid despite her nudity. This whole situation was not a turn-on for him.

“Obdurescere,” she said, in a low voice. He felt his length grow and harden almost immediately. She felt it too and withdrew her hand.

“I’m ready,” he said, inwardly flinching at how harsh his voice sounded. He had no option. She seemed to understand because she eased her knickers down and off, her bravado faltering somewhat. He couldn’t look at her body… not like this. He kept his eyes on her face and sought to shield her body from the onlookers with his own. He fumbled clumsily with his trouser buttons and raised his shirt to free himself. She too kept her eyes on his face. She lay down and he positioned himself over her. Thank goodness she had some understanding of the mechanics of the act. He probed her opening with his finger. Wet but very tight…too tight to be comfortable for either of them. It was a given that he might need to tear her, but at this rate she might tear him.

Try to relax. We’re made to go together like this.

He took his weight on his elbow and placed his hand over her mouth.

When I hurt you… bite down….give the pain back to me.

She nodded and he eased himself into her. He went as far as her barrier… He would need to tear her, she was intact… hopefully there wouldn’t be too much blood. Any small traces could be attributed to the scratch from the knife. He withdrew slightly and thrust again, breaking through. He felt her wince and she bit down slightly on the flesh of his ring finger.

Good girl. Just be brave for me a little longer and I’ll get you out of here.

He began to thrust, shallowly at first, then with longer strokes. She was tight, but on the whole she was bearing up well. Her hands clutched his shoulderblades, through the linen of his shirt and he prayed for a quick release as he continued to stroke in and out. She began to gasp under him, in time with his movements. He risked a glance at her face and realised this was feigned for the benefit of their audience.

When I have you in my bed you will have more pleasure than you knew possible.

So saying he released into her and slumped over her. He felt her kissing his throat with a sense of bewilderment. Affection after this! Pulling himself together he levered himself off her.

“Get dressed,” he said sharply. “We’ve work to do.”