Inside the Blackest Heart (Edit, Not Update)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 32 ~ So Many Deceptions

Harry leaned against the dungeon corridor wall feeling sick to his stomach. He had been following Hermione on her rounds for the past few weeks under his Invisibility Cloak. He still hadn't said anything to her about what he discovered. He didn't know how to do it.

Harry had found out that after Hermione completed her rounds, she would return to Snape’s office and spend the night in the Potions master’s rooms. In the morning she would exit Gryffindor tower as if she had been there the whole night. She probably flooed back directly to her room.

Hermione had to be shagging Snape.

There was no other explanation for it. He was taking advantage of her situation to have sex with her. That’s why he was helping her, the perverted git. It was bad enough he participated in the Dark Lord’s revels, did he have to spoil sweet, innocent Hermione too?

At this moment, Harry hated Snape so much, it rivaled his hatred of Voldemort. What had he told Hermione to make her agree to sleep with him? Did he put that condition on his aid to her?

“I will gladly help you Miss Granger, but you’ll have to fuck me for my assistance.”

Harry could see the bastard saying something like that to Hermione, and she, being so desperate for help, agreeing to let him crawl all over her.

Oh, Hermione!

Harry made his way back toward the entrance hall, intending to return to Gryffindor tower. It made no sense to loiter outside the Potions master’s rooms. He knew Hermione was there and what the Potions Master was probably doing to her.

He had to say something. He had to tell Hermione he knew the Potions master was forcing himself on her, and to let her know he’d help her get away from him.

When he entered the entrance hall he saw someone coming, and even though he was under the cloak, he reflexively dipped back. It was Dumbledore. Harry suspected the old wizard could see through his cloak. He knew Harry was in Hagrid’s cabin in his second year after all.

Why was Dumbledore wandering the castle so late? The Headmaster crossed the entrance hall, looking about him as he walked, as if to make sure no one was following him. Then he walked to the main doors, pushed them open and walked out on to the grounds of Hogwarts.

Without a second thought, Harry dashed after him, catching the main doors before they closed and slipping out behind the Headmaster. He followed Albus at a distance as he walked across the landscape, heading for the main gates.

After a few minutes, the Headmaster reached the gates of Hogwarts. He unwarded them, stepped through, then warded them back. Then he placed a glamour on himself. Harry’s eyes went wide as he stared at the wizard he had trusted all his time at Hogwarts.

The Headmaster was dressed like a Death Eater, from the hooded robes to the skull half-mask. He appeared beardless and much younger. No one would know that this was the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Suddenly he placed a Silencing spell around himself, then Apparated.

Harry knew he had seen something he was not meant to see. More than likely, wherever the Headmaster had gone dressed like that, he would have to return. Harry decided to wait for him. He settled down next to the gate, wrapping himself securely in his cloak, and rested his back against the cold metal. He cast a small warming spell around himself to fight the coldness of the night and waited for Dumbledore to return.

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Snape sat in his armchair, nursing his third Firewhiskey of the evening and staring into the fireplace. He was getting a nice little buzz. Hermione was sitting at the desk she had lost her virginity on, doing an assignment. She was dressed in a fluffy robe and slippers, her flannel nightgown beneath. It was cold in the Potions master’s rooms. This was her fifth week spent with the wizard, but it was completely sexless. He slept in his room and she would transfigure the sofa into a twin-sized bed and sleep there.

He had made no advances toward her for sex, and she wasn’t disappointed about it. Since she had kissed him and he told her exactly where she stood with him, she decided she would fight her attraction towards him. Actually, she acted as if she were alone in his rooms. And that suited Snape just fine.

The only problem as far as he was concerned, was that she had to come into his room to use the loo and the shower. That, and the fact that she had her personal items in his bathroom. He had sifted through her things. There was scented shampoo, soaps, lotions, scent, and a box of contraceptive patches. He studied these for a moment. He hadn’t even thought of the possibility of the witch getting pregnant by him. If she had, he would have taken care of the unwanted child with a potion. He never wanted to be a father. He doubted if he could show even his own child love, and didn’t care to find out.

The Potions master cut his eyes over at the studious witch. He really could use a blowjob right now. Hermione had been a bit cold since he told her where they stood. He doubted very much if she’d be willing to suck his cock, especially when there was no reciprocal pleasure involved. He took another sip of his drink.

He could always force her, saying it was the price for staying in his domain. He cut his eyes back over at her. She was completely wrapped up from head to toe. In her Head Girl’s room she slept in a short nightie or naked. Since coming to his rooms, she bundled up as if she were sleeping outside. It was a bit on the cool side, but he thought she was supremely overdressed. Surreptiously, he cast a warming spell on the room. Maybe she’d at least take off her robe.

“It’s not going to work, professor. I’m not going to take off my robe, and I won’t suck your cock either,” Hermione said, never lifting her eyes from her work.

The Potions master sat up in the armchair and looked at her with his mouth open.

“I heard you,” she said, looking up at him. “What you were thinking. You are a very nasty wizard, professor.”

Snape slumped back into his chair, scowling.

“Fucking Primordial powers,” he thought blackly.

From the desk, Hermione chuckled and continued working.

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“This has to be the most boring assignment on earth,” said Joel, adjusting his mask. He was sweating underneath it.

“Yeah,” said Jonsten, leaning on a lamppost, picking at his nails with his teeth. “We’ve been at it for weeks and nothing.”

“Missing out on all the Revels,” said Heustus, grimacing.

“Yeah. All that hot Muggle pussy,” agreed Franklin. “Ain’t had none in weeks. My cock is going through withdrawal.”

The four Disillusioned Death Eaters were gathered outside the flat of the Grangers as they had been for the last several weeks, following the orders of their Lord. When they had been given this assignment, they wanted to protest protecting Muggles. Muggles were their favorite prey after all. But Voldemort, sensing their reluctance, drove the importance of the assignment home with a few well-placed Cruciatus curses, and the Death Eaters Apparated to muggle London and had been there ever since.

Initially there were five Death Eaters assigned to the Grangers. But that changed when one of their members took off to ravage a passing Muggle woman who looked too delicious to live.

When Voldemort found out he abandoned his post, he displayed the wizard’s flayed, fleshless and lifeless body for a week in his throne room, nailed to the wall against a splash of crimson. Needless to say the Grangers were covered twenty-four hours a day after that.

Hermione’s parents were blissfully unaware that they were in danger or being watched, although Mrs. Granger often had odd feelings whenever she entered and exited her home. She wasn’t a bad looking woman for her age, and her guardians were Death Eaters after all. They leered at her constantly, and discussed the different positions they like to see her in. They also trailed the Grangers to work, riding the underground, feeling up Muggle women and watching them slap and berate innocent males standing near them.

They also lounged outside the couple’s dental practice, playing pranks on passersby, such as making women’s skirts fly up suddenly, showing their knickers (or lack of them), and tripping people.

As unsavory as the four Death Eaters were, they were good at their job, and some of the most skilled fighters in Voldemort’s ranks. They really were prepared for anything. For example, no other Death Eaters were to come near the Granger’s residence. If one were to appear, they would know immediately that he was an imposter.

They also carefully checked each visitor or delivery to the Granger’s home for magical signatures and glamours. They weren’t just prepared to protect the Grangers in magical incidents. In one instance, Mrs. Granger was crossing the street with packages and didn’t see an approaching car. The driver was distracted by trying to find a station on his radio and didn’t see Mrs. Granger. If it weren’t for Jonsten flipping the vehicle over several times, Mrs. Granger would have been struck and most probably killed. The remains of the driver had to be cut from the car.

In another instance, some young thugs targeted Mr. Granger as he walked home from the fish and chips shop, and followed him closely, waiting for the opportunity to rob him. The thugs never got near him. But they were spared, only thrown several feet into a building wall and dazed. Death Eaters appreciated thuggishness after all, even in Muggles.

As the four wizards griped, they felt a magical signature via the ward they had placed around the Grangers home. Hermione’s parents were inside, asleep. Immediately, the four silenced the ward and positioned themselves around the front of the flat, and waited for whoever set off the ward to appear.

They had been instructed to take the attacker alive, and bring him to Voldemort, who planned to present him to Hermione as a gift. Tense, wands drawn and ready for action, the Death Eaters watched the front of the flat with narrowed eyes

Suddenly a Death Eater apparated soundlessly before the flat. He stood directly under the streetlight, which was odd, because Death Eaters tried to conceal themselves at all times, to avoid being seen. This one stood there a while as if waiting to be spotted by someone. And he was. A woman in a flat three doors down let out her cat, and saw him. They stared at each other for a moment, then the woman retreated into her flat, no doubt to tell her family about the strange costumed man standing outside the Granger’s residence. The Death Eater was very tall and thin under his robes, and his hood was raised. Not one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters recognized him, and they knew practically every member.

The masked wizard looked around carefully in his half-skull mask, and smiled a thin malicious smile, then started towards the flat, his blue eyes glittering.

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A/N: Uh oh. And so…it begins. Please review.