Twice Bitten ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 37 ~ Domiciled with Snape

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed as Professor Snape’s dark eyes swept over her. He slowly ran the tip of his finger over his thin lips, thinking of what he wanted to say to the witch. Finally he spoke.

”I must say you are a determined young woman, Hermione, if a foolish one. I still believe you have a romanticized notion as to who and what I am, though I have explained myself to you more than I have anyone in my life, including the Headmaster, If we continue, you are going to have to lose your illusions about me. I am a man that deals in reality and facts. You do have a tendency to gather facts, but I believe when it comes to me, you lose the facility to process them. You are going to have to grow up and quickly,” Snape said to her, frowning slightly.

Hermione nodded, but remained silent.

”I have a deep aversion to being tied up or bound in any manner for any reason,” the dark wizard said, “and although I know desperation drove you to commit such an act on my person, that is no excuse for it. I let no bad deed go unpunished. I want you to realize that I am a vindictive fellow, and despite my attraction to you . . . the blow to my pride at being caught unaware and trussed up like a pig by an eighteen-year-old witch must eventually be satisfied, and saying you are sorry is not enough.”

Hermione scowled, and her scowl was matched by Snape.

”Why are you scowling? If you have something to say, then say it witch,” he snapped at her.

Hermione blinked at him, drew in a deep breath then said, “I don’t see why I should be punished because you were off your guard. That’s your shortcoming, not mine, Professor,” she said to him, her eyes flashing. “I just got the upper hand.”

Upper hand?

Snape’s face contorted.

“Why you cheeky little . . .” the wizard began, then caught himself. “You don’t need to ‘see why’ you little minx, all you need to know I am displeased and will want satisfaction . . . eventually.”

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him.

”What kind of satisfaction?” she asked him.

”That remains to be seen. All I want to know is that you understand and accept this,” he said to the witch.

”As long as it doesn’t involve you beating or torturing me, I can accept it,” Hermione replied.

Snape gave her a slight, unpleasant little smirk.

“By beating, I presume you mean with whips, scourges, riding crops, things of that nature,” he asked the witch for clarification.

”Exactly,” Hermione said.

”I promise you I won’t be beating you with any of those items,” the wizard promised her obliquely. “At least, not without your permission.”

Hermione stared at Snape. Was he into that kind of thing? She paled.

”I was being humorous, Hermione,” he snapped as he saw her pallor. “I don’t beat witches with hand-wielded objects, I assure you.”

What Snape beat witches with was securely and permanently attached to his loins.

“Oh,” Hermione said in a small voice, her color returning somewhat.

Snape studied her, a sober look on his pale face. Now he’d come to the crux of the matter. The nature of their relationship. It had to be addressed.

”Hermione, do you wish to continue a physical relationship with me?” he asked the witch, but he held up his hand before she could reply, stopping her.

”Before you answer me in the usual “fools rush in” nature of the Gryffindor, Hermione, I must impress upon you that Severus Snape the man is very different than Severus Snape the vampire. I don’t exude that powerful erotic attraction any longer. If you become my lover, you will have to look into this face, Hermione, feel these arms around you, these lips on your body intimately without any extraneous influences to make me more attractive. Do you think this something you truly want? It could be that without the vampire influence, my attentions will repulse you now.”

Hermione looked at the dour wizard. He was attractive to her and it wasn’t because of his looks. The time they spent together had much to do with it, of course. He was her first after all, but it was also heady to think that the wizard actually wanted her. Severus Snape seemed to want nothing from anyone. Knowing that he desired her made Hermione feel very special. Everyone wants to feel special.

“I’m not repulsed by you,” she said softly.

Snape stared at her.

”Possibly not now, but I am not on you,” he said in a low voice. “It could be when I come in contact with you, witch, you will feel differently.”

Snape reflexively leaned a bit closer to Hermione. Whether it was to intimidate her or not, was a matter of conjecture. But she didn’t move away.

Snape’s lip quirked and he straightened.

”I believe we need to test whether or not that is true,” the wizard purred.

Hermione’s heart began to beat quickly.

”But not now. In the near future,” Snape added, “Right now, I must focus on protecting you and making sure that your studies do not suffer while you are domiciled with me while I figure out how to break the demon’s hold on you. No doubt the Headmistress will be checking not only with you, but with your professors.”

As the couple talked, there was something happening in the bathroom. A bottle of Hermione’s lotion that was sitting on the vanity suddenly began to rock, slightly at first, then fell over, the cap coming off and the slippery liquid spilling on the floor. The heavy lid to the loo lifted, leaving the bowl open and the metal-lined shower door partially slid back. A quiet but unearthly chuckle sounded then faded away.

Snape stood up. They had addressed their differences to a small extent. There was much more they would need to make clear to each other, but at least the topic had been broached. Right now, Hermione needed to apply herself to her studies.

”Gather your assignments,” the wizard said, “if your marks drop even a point, Minerva will be on me like a niffler on gold.”

”All right, but I want to use the bathroom first,” Hermione said, heading for the bathroom.

Snape watched her go, then suddenly ran after Hermione just as she entered and shrieked, slipping on the lotion on the floor and flying headfirst toward the open loo. Snape grabbed her, sliding also but jerking her back just as the loo lid slammed down with terrible force, almost like jaws snapping. They both fell on the floor, Hermione’s eyes wide as she looked at the loo.

”That would have smashed my head like a pumpkin,” she breathed, trembling at her close call.

Snape eyed the open door to the shower.

”No doubt if you had missed the loo, you would have been crushed in the shower door,” Snape said as he helped her to her feet.

The wizard pulled out his wand and scourgified the floor, then Hermione then himself. Next he removed the loo lid and seat, and the shower door. He picked up the overturned bottle of lotion, set it upright, then proceeded to magically seal every bottle and jar Hermione had.

Hermione watched him silently as he worked. When he finished, Snape turned to her.

“I am going to have to open your personal items for you as you need them, Hermione. It is inconvenient, but necessary,” he said to the frightened witch. “Now, I’m going to stand outside the door while you use the loo. Hurry.”

Hermione watched as Snape walked outside the bathroom. He didn’t close the door.

Hermione stood there a moment, then hoisted up her robes, pulled down her jeans and knickers and tried to use the loo. But it was hard to pee knowing Snape was standing just outside. He’d hear it.

After about three minutes, Snape’s aggravated voice rose from around the corner.

”Will you piss already, witch!” he snarled. “Otherwise, I’ll be forced to cast both a Urination and Defecation spell on you, and it’s not pleasant!”

That was sufficient enough threat to make Hermione let go, and quickly. She wiped, flushed and washed her hands thoroughly, looking around the bathroom with a bit of trepidation. She exited to find that Snape had also removed the bathroom door as well as the bedroom door.

“I want to make sure the demon cannot lock you in and separate us,” Snape said as Hermione gathered up her books and parchments. “Come. Into the study with you.”

Snape stepped aside and followed Hermione into his study. He removed all the sharp tipped quills and ink bottles from the top of his desk, and replaced them with a number of Muggle pens and blunt tipped pencils. He then sealed every drawer with powerful wards so they could not suddenly thrust out and possibly hurt the witch.

“Sit here and work,” the wizard directed her, turning his swivel chair into a regular one with four legs and padded seat, arms and back, as well as rounded edges.

Hermione sat down, took out her assignments and proceeded to work.

Snape walked about his library, selecting several books, then sat down on the sofa and began thumbing through them. After about twenty minutes, the wizard stood up with a very old book then pulled out his wand.

Hermione watched as he walked around the study, muttering an incantation as he directed his wand up and down and back and forth as if he were painting. He covered the entire room, then walked into his bedroom.

”Don’t move from that chair,” he called back to the witch.

Hermione didn’t and presently Snape returned, looking a bit more relaxed.

”I’ve put up some protections. I don’t know how effective they will be against the demon’s acts from a distance, but he will not be able to manifest in this area,” he said to the witch. Then he sat down and rubbed his forehead for a moment, then picked up another book.

He had to find a solution to this problem and soon. He was as much a prisoner as Hermione.

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Three hours later, Hermione was finished with her homework. Snape was still poring through books. Hermione stood up and stretched, then walked over to the sofa, looking at the books curiously.

”Can I help you, Professor?” she asked the wizard.

Snape looked up at her. Yes, she could help. Hermione was a wiz at research.

”Certainly. Look for methods of breaking a demon binding that doesn’t involve slaughtering anyone,” the dark wizard said.

Hermione slid a few books aside, sat down next to Snape, picked one up and began reading the table of contents.

Unlike most of the wizards and witches in the Wizarding World, Hermione was an associative thinker, not a linear one. In her world, point A did not necessarily lead to point B. It could circumvent and lead to point Z if she could only put it together. So instead of looking for “how to break a binding” she began looking for things that could weaken a demon’s influence on a human instead. After all, in order to break anything, some weakening had to occur first.

She found an entire chapter on Love and it’s relation to the soul. Hermione read through it, her brow furrowed. It seemed powerful love weakened a demon’s hold on a person. But the love itself had to be “soul deep.”

Hermione looked at Snape surreptiously. She doubted that he could easily fall in love to start with, and “soul deep” love? She couldn’t see it. Besides, falling in love took time, and there was no potion that inspired True Love. Just a rather addictive, gentle lust which would suffice. So that was out of the question.

After another hour, Snape rubbed his tired eyes and closed the book.

”You haven’t eaten,” he said to Hermione, “are you hungry.”

Hermione nodded. Snape walked over to the floo, tossed in some floo powder and ordered dinner. It was simple fare. Baked chicken, peas and potatoes with pumpkin juice. Two house elves delivered the meal wordlessly, bowing and winking out.

Hermione tucked in, finishing her meal rather quickly. She yawned exaggeratedly and felt extremely tired. Snape finished his food, then set the empty plate on the table between the armchairs they sat at, stood up and stretched.

”It is time to retire,” he announced, gesturing toward his bedroom.

Hermione entered, her chest feeling a bit tight as Snape silently entered behind her.

”Get your night clothes and get dressed,” he ordered her.

Hermione walked over to the dresser and removed a long-sleeved, flannel nightgown and walked into the bathroom to dress. Snape had seen her naked before, but she just felt she should do it this way.

Snape watched her enter the bathroom with an amused look on his face.

”She thinks she wants to shag me when she can’t even undress in front of me,” he mused, shaking his head as he unbuttoned his robes.

Hermione exited the bathroom to find a cot against the far wall, Snape standing over it dressed in a gray nightshirt, studying it critically. At first he made a mattress with springs, but decided against it in case the demon made them uncoil and pierce Hermione. Now the mattress was stuffed with goose feathers. Still, the wizard didn’t feel comfortable and removed the frame, placing the mattress on the floor, putting a sticking charm on it so it couldn’t roll over and suffocate her. But he still didn’t like it. If the demon came up with something he didn’t expect, and he was asleep, valuable time could be lost in getting to Hermione.

With an exasperated sigh, he made the mattress disappear. She would just have to sleep with him. That’s the only way he could be sure she would be safe.

Snape turned to look at Hermione, who stood in the doorway in her heavy gown, completely shapeless. The wizard shook his head.

”My grandmum had a gown like that. Needless to say, my grandfather slept in a separate bedroom,” he said, then, “Get into my bed. You’re sleeping with me.”

Hermione looked at Snape with wide eyes. She hadn’t expected this and didn’t move. She couldn’t. She was in shock. Snape’s black eyes narrowed.

”Get in the bed!” he commanded.

Hermione started and quickly climbed into the bed, laying flat on her back, tense.

Snape joined her, climbing over the witch, stretching his lean body out then turning it towards her. He slipped his wand under his pillow.

“Face away from me,” he purred.

Hermione did as he asked, then stiffened as she felt him curl around her back, his body warm and hard beneath the nightshirt. He slipped an arm around her, then pulled her back against him, wrapping his other arm around her and snuggling exaggeratedly against her stiff body, smirking.

”Don’t worry, witch. I am keeping you close so I can tell if anything happens. You are relatively safe from the demon,” Snape crooned in her ear.

”But am I safe from you?” she asked him softly, trembling a bit.

”I’m not sure, but for now . . . sleep,” the wizard replied, closing his eyes.

Presently, Snape was asleep, breathing evenly. But Hermione wasn’t. She was aware of everything about the man curled around her. His arms, the hardness of his belly and thighs, his warmth . . .

”ZZZnngrahZZZnt!” Snape snored, startling Hermione with the deafening volume of it.

“Oh good gods,” she breathed as he did it again, his large nostrils pulsating from the sheer force of expelled air, making her hair lift as if caught in a miniscule jet stream.

Hermione grabbed her pillow and put it over her head. The din lessened, but not by much

She groaned. What a night this was going to be.

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A/N: At last! A chapter. I don’t know how good it is but I got it out. Maybe Snape will wake up in the middle of the night and decide to ‘test’ Hermione’s attraction sooner rather than later. Heh, heh. Thanks for reading. ***