Saving your life

He was walking down the hall when he heard the first noises. He entered the room and looked around with interest. He knew there weren’t many things that could make his fellow Death Eaters sound so excited.

They were standing in a circle, looking down and laughing hard. He walked closer and poked his head to see what was there. It took him a few seconds to recognize the figure lying on the floor; his brain kept telling him it was impossible. His former student, Hermione Granger, friend of the famous Harry Potter, was there, curled up, looking scared and confused, so different from the little know-it-all he’d seen in his classes. He was glad he was wearing his mask, or his expression would have given him away in an instant.

She didn’t look harmed, but that would change any minute. He had to act fast.

He turned around and left the room without being noticed. He knew what he had to do, but it would be hard and dangerous.

He almost ran to the other end of the manor, along dark corridors covered in paintings of famous pureblooded wizards, and only stopped when he reached a large door painted in black and green, a silver snake in the centre. The few minutes it had taken him to get there had been hardly enough to come up with a good plan, but he thought he had found a way to save her and still seem loyal to the cause.

He knocked on the door and waited for it to open. The Dark Lord was alone in his studio, reading a book that looked about to fall to pieces. He barely looked up when he entered the room, but Snape knew he was listening. It was hard, but making use of all of his persuasion, he managed to convince his Master to stop the others from hurting her, at least until he had time to explain everything. He knew Voldemort trusted him enough to act before he got a complete explanation, but still he didn’t want to push his luck.

They walked in silence all the way back to the other room. He stayed a few steps behind, hoping she was still alive and at the same time going through every step of his plan in his mind once more.

The voices could be heard long before they reached the place. Luckily, at least in this case, those men enjoyed playing. They made their killings last as long as they could.

All noises died out as soon as they saw their Master enter the room and, bowing, they parted, allowing him to walk towards the girl lying on the floor. She looked up at him, a mixture of fear and relief on her face. She was clearly in pain, every visible inch of her skin covered in blood. Without a word, he pointed his wand at her. Her eyes opened wide and then she fainted.

“Heal her wounds and take her to the black room,” was all he said before turning around and walking back to his studio, closely followed by Snape.

Voldemort sat once more on the same chair, only this time his eyes where locked on Snape, who felt him trying to enter his mind and decided it was better to start explaining.

“A few months ago I realized that, if everything went according to plan and Dumbledore was killed, knowing it would probably be me doing the killing, the members of the Order would know I had been spying on and not for them, that I had remained a faithful Death Eater. Still, I thought it would be useful to have a spy among the enemy, even after Dumbledore’s death. It would be too hard for someone on our side to become a member, as it would take too long. It would have to be someone they already trusted. I analysed the possibilities and chose the one who seemed to be the weaker prey. Apparently, it was the right choice.”

“The know-it-all, the bookworm, the one who only knew life through what she read, would prove to be easy to influence. Her mind might be sharp, but she had no command over her emotions, like most girls that age. The safest way to control her would be to seduce her, much better than any spell. If she believed that she loved me, she would do anything I asked. I could have laughed at how easy she was to manipulate. Just look inside her mind, tell her what she wanted to hear, what she needed to hear, and she was ready. Of course, I made sure it was kept a secret; she would be of no use to us otherwise.”

“So the night came when I killed the old fool, my Lord, and even then, she believed in my innocence. We talked a few days later and I assured her I was still loyal to the Order, that Dumbledore had planned the whole thing. I told her I couldn’t yet explain it to the other members, so she would have to help me until then. She was to tell me everything that was said during their meetings. She was only too happy to comply. We met a few times afterwards, but she couldn’t give me much useful information. Apparently, everyone was still too shocked with what had happened, and they weren’t doing much.”

“During the years I worked with them I suspected they had at least one other spy among your Death Eaters, but I never managed to discover who it was, and that is why I hadn´t said anything about this before, as I was afraid the spy would discover it and I would lose my potential informant.”

“It would seem the girl’s hormones took over tonight and she foolishly tried to find me. I asked you, my Lord, to keep her alive because she might me very useful for us, and perhaps a way to regain my position as a member of the Order in time. So now, Master, if you believe I was wrong in my decisions I will accept any punishment you shall see fit. But if, on the contrary, you think I did right and we should continue to use her in order to get information, I must ask you to keep the others away from her, to let me be the only one who talks to her, or else she might suspect my loyalties.”

It had taken so long for the answer to come that he was beginning to think his Master might just be imagining the best way to torture and kill them both, but when Voldemort finally spoke, it was to tell him to go on with his plan. It had been an idea worthy of his most faithful Death Eater, he said, but Snape knew his Master well enough by now to know he didn’t entirely believe it. He had to find a way to convince him, to regain his trust, and there was only one thing he could do.

He opened the door and saw her. She was chained to the wall, her clothes red from the blood, but the cuts were gone. He knew she had recognized him the moment he spoke, but her eyes widened when she saw his face; he was trying to let her know with his eyes that she should remain silent as he approached her. They were standing so close he could feel her breath on his skin, and when she asked him what he was doing, he just told her the truth, he was saving her life.

With his hands on her hips, he leaned forwards to kiss her neck. She just seemed too shocked to speak. After a few seconds, he took a step back and, with a flick of his wand, cleaned her skin and clothes, removing the dried blood. He then buried his hand on her bushy hair and slowly pushed her against the wall. Now that their bodies were touching, he could feel how tense she was. He moved his face closer, their lips almost touching, and looked right into her eyes. Confusion hadn’t left her, but there was something else too, deep down. It shocked him to see it was trust. He tried to look deeper inside her mind but she blocked him. Apparently, she had been learning Occlumency.

He tentatively reached for her lips, a light brush to see her reaction and give her time to get used to the idea. He felt her body shake slightly under his hands, but still she didn’t move.

The kiss was soft and slow at first, both staring at each other, but he knew that wasn’t enough, so he carefully parted her lips with his tongue and finally saw her close her eyes and return the kiss. His hands moved down the sides of her body as his tongue explored her mouth, trying to make the kiss more passionate. When he slid his hands under her shirt she froze, her eyes opened again in a questioning look. His lips left hers and he whispered softly in her ear,

“Trust me, it’s the only way.”

Her body seemed to relax under his touch and, with his face still buried on the curve of her neck, his fingers started drawing small circles up and down her legs, his touch so soft it almost tickled. Her head fell back when he reached her inner thigh and he thought she was ready for the next step. Soon his lips were once more on hers as he slipped his fingers inside her underwear. Even if it was almost a play, performed by two people who didn’t even like each other, and for the sole purpose of staying alive, their bodies were responding to each other, moving on their own accord. He pushed her harder against the wall with his body and heard a soft moan. He wasn’t sure who had made it. The sound of chains startled them both as she tried to move her arms. They had forgotten all about them.

“I think we could leave them on a little longer,” he said with a sneer. Just playing my part, he told himself. He didn’t sound convinced though.

She didn’t answer, she just covered his mouth with hers in a probing kiss, feeling his arousal matching her own. He couldn’t wait any longer, and in a matter of seconds he had removed her underwear and unzipped his trousers. He lifted her legs and placed them around his waist, never breaking the kiss.

He entered her slowly, trying hard not to hurt her. She was so tight, he had to concentrate to keep control. He stood still inside of her until he felt her muscles relax, and only then did he start moving. He stopped kissing her and looked into her eyes. A look of surprise and one of excitement mixed on her face, probably the same look she could see on his. The pace was calm at first, but soon urge made them move faster, the moans becoming louder. For what seemed like hours they stayed like this, their bodies moving against each other, their lips melting together once more, until he felt her muscles tense again, only this time it was from pleasure. The scream that left her mouth and died in his was enough to push him over the edge as well, and only out of exhaustion did they stop moving.

Without another word, he took a step back and released her arms from the chains. He quickly zipped his pants and, without looking in her eyes, he took her hand and Apparated on a dark street near Diagon Alley. A loud crack told them they weren’t alone.

He kissed her passionately once more, but only for a second, just long enough to slide a piece of parchment inside her pocket, and then he turned around and Apparated on the manor again.

He had done everything in his power to make it look real, it almost felt real, and he hoped that had been enough to convince his Master. He knew it wouldn’t be the last time. Now they thought she was spying for the Dark Lord, they would keep an eye on them both.

He headed for his Master’s studio once more, knowing what he would ask of him and deep inside wondering when he would see her again.