Humility and Obedience

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that belong J. K. Rowling.
Beta: Dorothy... The best there is!
Special thank you: To Linda for lending a helping hand with comingwithwith an extended plot when I had huge writers block, and to Eloisa for giving assistance in composing McGonagall’s letter. (((hugs)))
Authors Note: This story was initially intended to be a short PWP ficlet, but since I’ve gotten such overwhelming response to the first chapter and several requests of ‘please more’, I’ve decided to throw in a bit of plot and extend the story to four or five chapters... perhaps more. A warning though, there will be no fluff in this tale... I like my Snape bad, not without some redeeming traits mind you, but still bad... very bad! :)
Alternative url: http://ashwinder.sycophanthex.com/viewuser.php?uid=922

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“I must be cruel only to be kind; Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.” --- William Shakespeare


Chapter 2


Hermione stayed in the room for a while and fought for control of her emotions. When she felt a little more confident, she exited the room and retraced her steps to the hallway. At the main entrance, she found Ginny sitting patiently waiting for her to return. Ginny gave her an odd smile, “You could not go through with it either?” she asked weakly.

“No, I guess this stuff is not for me”, Hermione shrugged.

The two women walked in silence to the Apparition point. They parted with an awkward smile and a strained ‘Goodnight’ before the both of them Disapparating with a couple of pops. Hermione felt she would rather die a thousand deaths than to ever again have to see that self-satisfied smirk she found on Professor Snape's face when she clued in to who he was. She fervently hoped she could put this awful night behind her, but she knew instinctively that it was a futile wish

Get over it! That is what he had said to her. “Get over it? How am I ever going to manage that?” The evening’s events played themselves over and over again in her mind. Knowing that he had seen her at her most vulnerable, that he had made her come like she had fantasized about, submitting to his will and revelling in the sensual feeling it gave her.

Until that dreadful moment when she had realised who he was, the experience had been astonishing... frightening yes... but astonishing.

Several weeks passed before Hermione was able to begin to put the episode behind her, although she still got glimpses of that evening in quick stabbing flashbacks that left her wanton and craving more. She went out on a few dates, going through the motions before she realised, much to her own horror, that she needed a man to dominate her, especially if she wanted the date to continue into the bedroom. She realised that she longed for someone who could hold the same power over her that he had that night. A man that could make her feel things she had only dreamed of before.

She needed a man like Severus Snape.


***

Snape had followed Hermione and the other woman when they left the obscure house in Knockturn Alley that night. ”What was her name again?” He saw her flaming red hair and had immediately recognised that she must be Arthur and Molly Weasley’s youngest daughter, ”Ah, Ginevra that was her name... Ginevra Weasley.” He remembered that Hermione and the Weasley girl had formed a close friendship after Ginevra’s brother Ron had been killed in a freak Quidditch accident during the trio’s seventh year, ironically enough, it had happened only a few months before the final battle took place.

Miss Granger and young Ron Weasley had been an item back then. Of course, Snape had his plate plenty full with his undercover work for Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix and had not really kept himself informed about the relationships or lack thereof, among his students. However, in this particular case, the Order had been very troubled by the lethal accident, or precisely, about how the Weasboy’boy’s death would affect one Miss Granger. It was a fact that the Order was heavily dependant upon Miss Granger’s research into Arithmancy predictions, since they all expected her and Professor Vector’s work to be vital keys on their road to victory in the upcoming battle.

Now, here he was lurking in the shadows of the night while trying his damnedest to eavep onp on the two departing Witches, one of whom he just had experienced a very fulfilling session with. Well, at least it had been gratifying up until the point when his tongue slipped. He scowled, slightly displeased with himself and how the end of the evening had turned out.

Snape was so immersed in his self-berating, that he almost missed when the Granger woman lied to the other pretending not to have gone through with the play. ”Interesting.”

He noted how silent they were and how uncomfortable they acted as they bid each other goodnight before the both of them Disapparated. He continued to observe from the safety of the dark, and when he was sure the coast were clear, Snape stepped out of the shadows and vanished with a pop as well.

Snape’s old spying and stealth skills came to good use, as he tracked Hermione’s Apparition and soon he found himself outside a Muggle tenant house not far from the secret passage to Diagon Alley. He cast a Disillusionment Charm upon himself as he took position in a narrow passage between two houses right across the street from the house she obviously lived in. There he patiently waited for a little over an hour before all the lights went out inside her flat. Not until he was absolutely convinced that she was safely in bed and sleeping did he Disapparate.

He was only mildly surprised when he had realised that Hermione lived in the Muggle section of London. After all, as he remembered it, she had throughout her years at Hogwarts kept a close connection with her parents and her Muggle life. Perhaps she even had a Muggle profession now. After all, she had been quite bright, not only with an exceptional aptitude for Arithmancy, but also for Potions. Wizards and Witches who excelled in those two subjects always had the opportunity to find high-paying jobs in the Muggle World. Of course, The Ministry did not allow that, but for a clever Wizard or Witch that seldom posed a problem.

Later that same night, Snape was unable to get any rest. He had only gotten a brief taste of Hermione Granger and now he found himself left with an ache that cried out to be fulfilled.

Sitting in front of the fireplace while nursing a cup of brandy, he wondered what would be the best way to get that void filled. He briefly had considered kidnapping her, or breaking into her house and taking her again with or without her permission, but those ideas did not sit well with him and he dismissed them as quickly as they came.

He had his fill of emptying himself into the bodies of forced and sobbing women way back in his past and he had never been able to find any real completion from those experiences. No, Snape needed his women to want him. He needed them to lust for his attention, to yearn for his touch. On the other hand, he also wanted them submissive and occasionally even frightened but that went without saying of course. Even so, he preferred... no he required them to submit to him out of free will, albeit to be completely honest with himself, he was no stranger to the use of some mild coercion occasionally. In fact, that did sometimes spice things up in a most agreeable way.

That very night, Snape decided that Hermione Granger would become his! Through the evening’s chance encounter, he was now a man with a mission and an obsession... In other words, Severus Snape was a man in dire need of a plan!

The occasion presented itself a couple of months later.


***

She cursed under her breath. Hermione had just received an owl from her former Head of House, Minerva McGonagall, now Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the letter, McGonagall in no short terms ordered her to attend to a post-war ceremony at the Ministry Headquarters in London the following week.

Hermione had received the official Ministry invitation a couple of days earlier, just as she had every year since the downfall of Voldemort ten years ago. And, as was her custom every year, she had sent the invitation back with the returning owl and politely thanked for the invitation but unfortunately, she was unable to attend.

Hermione did not consider herself a war hero, although she had received an Order of Merlin Second Class together with Professor Vector a couple of months after the end of the war. She firmly believed that there were others more deserving of the honour than she, and that the research she had provided had not taken the kind of bravery displayed by those who actually were on the battlefield with wands drawn, facing evil.

Now Professor McGonagall had written her a personal letter where she, despite being the epitome of a straightforward and honest Gryffindor, apparently did not shy away from some good old Slytherin-style blackmailing... Because blackmail it was, no doubt about it! Hermionettedtted her brows together as she reread Minerva’s letter for the umpteenth time...


Miss Granger,


I hope this owl finds you well.

As you may be aware, the annual post-war ceremony is approaching again.

I have enclosed the official invitation you sent back as you will need it at the entrance of the Ministry.

I realise that you have declined past invitations but I look forward to you attending this year.

Your involvement in the downfall of You-know-who was just as vital as those who fought in the final battle.

I know from previous correspondence that you disagree with me about this.

However, there are many Witches and Wizards who will be elated by your presence this year, myself included.

Miss Granger, I expect that you will not disappoint me this year.


Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts


Hermione realised that she would have to attend the ceremony whether she wanted to or not. She had never been able to say no to her former Head of House, a fact that she knew Professor McGonagall must have been fully aware of when she composed the letter. “The scheming old Witch, I swear she is getting more and more like Professor Dumbledore with each passingr.”

Headmaster Dumbledore had died calmly in his sleep, almost one year to the day after the downfall of Voldemort. There had never been any hesitation as to whom would receive the title of Headmaster after his unexpected passing... or as in this case, the Headmistress title. Minerva McGonagall had been elected a week later with one hundred percent of the required Ministry votes.

Hermione was no fool, and she recognised defeat when it stared her in the face. She would be forced to attend the ceremony and her only problem now was whom she would go with and what she would wear.

”Damn you Minerva!”


***

The Ministry was bustling with people and drowning in too loud voices and Snape hated every minute of it.

Snape never graced the yearly post-war festivities with his presence although he got his invitation every year. He ferociously despised these kind gat gatherings and found little or no reason for reminiscing about past times and old glories together with drunken people he never had considered friends in the first place.

This year, however, was different.

It had taken no small amount of Slytherin cunning and scheming on Snape’s part to convince the Headmistress to write Miss Granger and require her attendance at this year’s ceremony. It was a blessing that he was such a thorough man, and that he dutifully did his homework before plotting a plan. Snape was quite pleased with himself as he mused that a lesser man most likely would have assumed that Miss Granger would attend without finding out the actual facts.

Now he stood there in the empty hallway that lead into the official party area, quietly watching Miss Granger mingle among the guests, waiting for her to spot him. When she finally did, she stopped dead in her tracks and began to blush furiously. “Good evening Miss Granger”, Snape’s deep voice finally penetrated through the buzzing in Hermione’s ears.

“Oh Merlin, not him! Please, do not let it be HIM!”

“Professor Snape”, she acknowledged him with a brief nod as she hastily tried to pass by him. He was too fast for her though, and his hand deftly snaked out and clasped her upper arm in a firm grip, effectively preventing her from moving forward. She kept her head down, obviously not daring to meet his eyes. He could feel her trembling. That tremble fed the sadistic part of Snape’s persona. It also fed another part of him and he felt himself grow hard. “Damn, stay in control. Do not let her notice your arousal”, he mentally instructed himself.

He fully intended to frighten her a bit, but he did not want to scare her off completely. This type of seduction was a form of art and a game that Snape had honed to perfection over the years.

He stepped closer, deliberately breaching her personal space as he bent down over her. He fully realised how intimidated it must have made her feel. “I want to see you again”, he murmured close to her ear, “To finish what we started.” Hermione lifted her head quickly and caught the feral expression in hies. es. The look she found made her quickly avert her eyes and slightly recoil, and as she suddenly seemed unable to find her voice, she instead shook her head in the negative. Snape had however caught the panicked look in her eyes before she shied away and he felt very pleased with himself. “That’s right, keep her confused and do not allow her time to think.”

Quickly his other hand caught her jaw as he bent his head and captured her lips, brusquely insinuating his tongue between them. When she refused to part her teeth to let him in, he bit none too gently, into her lower lip until she opened up and allowed him to enter. His arms engulfed her in a strong pull. One hand spread wide across her lower back and the other gripped firmly around her neck. He pulled her even closer as he deepened the kiss. He could feel her breath leave her and for a moment, she melted into his body only to suddenly stiffen and start to push away. Snape realised that she must have felt his erection against her lower abdomen. “Bollocks!”

He promptly allowed her some space, retracting his hands until one rested on her right shoulder and the other on her left hip, w sti still allowed him full control over her body and movements.

“Are you alone?”

“No, I came with a friend, Ginny Weasley”, she managed to mumble without really looking at him. “Tell her you have to leave shortly, and meet me at the entrance in fifteen minutes.” It was an order. Hermione just continued to shake her head, still not daring to meet his eyes. He lowered the tone of his voice to a vibrating hum. “You will if you want what only I can offer you, Miss Granger.”

Getting no reaction from her other than the head shaking, he once again tightened his grip. “Do not make me have to come and get you... and do not be late.” By now, she was visibly quivering and finally she lifted her eyes to meet his in an attempt at bravery. What she saw was a man who oozed self-assurance and poise. He was an image of confidence and control, and just as he knew she would, Hermione was unable to refuse his request any longer.

“I will be there.”


TBC…


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