Morpheus' Charm

Morpheus' Charm

By Hellios

A/N: Thanks to Severuslave for beta reading

Chapter 6 – Enlightened

So, Lucius Malfontednted an alliance. The possibilities were very intriguing. Snape had only just Apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds and it was close to midnight. He had refused to commit himself to anything as of yet, considering Lucius had given him much food for thought, but Malfoy wouldn't want to be kept waiting.

Snape made his way across the grounds towards the private entrance that would take him back to his rooms. The route was one that was etched deeply in his mind and he could have followed it blindfolded and bleeding – no doubt he had done so in the past.

He came to the entrance hidden by the jutting cornerstone of a looming tower. At a short command to a gargoyle perched above with its mouth open in a condescending cackle, it opened up to reveal a dark, narrow stairwell. Lately, the secret entrance had been unused, but Snape knew that if he agreed to Malfoy's request – or veiled threat as the case was - then he might once more be taking advantage of it.

Other than himself, the only person who had known about the entrance was Albus Dumbledore. The late headmaster had uncovered it particularly so that Snape could use it to go to and from Death Eater meetings during the time that he turned spy against Voldemort. Snape's eyes darkened and his lips twitched at the thought that he was now on the verge of betrayal, once again.

He climbed down the narrow steps and into the dark passage that would lead him to the dungeons, making sure to seal the doorway before he proceeded. Not even bothering to light his wand, Snape followed the passage downhill and thought about treason.

If there was one thing he had come to admit about himself, it was that he was lost without a master. It galled him, but there it was. He hated the fact that he was now adrift in the world, without the old man around. Minerva had tried to get him involved once more in the Order, but she offered him no protection from those who hated him. He hated them too, but that was beside the point.

Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to know him all too well.

“You owe me, Snape,” he had said in cool tones. “It is because of me that the Dark Lord hasn't bothered to send his assassins after you. I was able to downplay your worth so that he thinks you nothing more than a minor irritation – something that can suit us both, I think.”

With that, Snape had the answers to his questions – Malfoy thought he could still be useful, and so protected Snape against the Dark Lord's wrath. It seems Snape wasn't the only one who was thinking about where their loyalties lay.

Before long, Snape reached the end of the tunnel and the steps led to a door, which opened up into his private chambers. He climbed through and turned to charm the door to once more appear as an ordinary part of the wall. For the first time in the last few hours, Snape felt that it was safe to breathe again. He was still alive, and would remain so for the foreseeable future – if he he agreed to join forces with Malfoy.

It was a very thin line that Malfoy walked – drawn between the Dark Lord and the Ministry. Should he be fool enough to follow him? Malfoy had made secret deals with the ousted Fudge, backed by goblins. He was hedging his bets should either side win, and relying on the fact that neither would.

Snape reached into his robes and withdrew the contract that Lucius had given him. To the unaided eye, it looked like nothing more than a blank piece of parchment – which technically it was, but Snape knew that Malfoy had the contract woven into the very fabric of the parchment itself. He was not sure how it had been done – only that it must have been very expensive. Once signed, the parchment would form a binding contract between himself and Lucius Malfoy – one that would result in either of their deaths if it was ever forfeited.

With hands shaking slightly, Snape placed the parchment on a nearby table. He would sleep on it, he thought. His head would be clearer in the morning – at least it would be after several cups of strong coffee – and he would consider the ramifications of signing it then.

~~~

The world was strange once more. Hermione found herself in a dark passage, one in which she had never been in, but one she seemed to know as well as Hogwarts: A History. Instinctively, she turned to her right, and although she couldn't see where she was going, she confidently made her way down the passage.

She came to a door, as she knew she would, and it opened for her. From the doorway, she stepped into a room and once again had the double sense of knowing it without having been there before. Candles flickered in wall sconces and gave her a good view of the room.

It was circular, fairly spacious but with no windows. The walls, floor and ceiling were formed out of rough stone, but there were various rugs and hangings to keep the chill from the air. The rest of the furnishings in the rooms were a haphazard collection of tables, bookcases and chairs. Various jars and flasks were collecting dust on shelves and several cauldrons where set up on benches. There was not a surface that was not occupied by something – be it books and scrolls or mugs and goblets. The room had a surprisingly pleasant aroma of coffee and herbs – not the musty smell usually associated with the dungeons. Instinctively she knew that was where she was. The signature on the room was obvious: Snape.

The owner of the room was absent, which Hermione found slightly disturbing. This was his dream, after all. She turned back to where she had come from, the doorway had vanished and she faced the cold stone wall. Hermione scanned the room for visible exits. Opposite her was a cold clean fireplace that, unlike the rest of the room, looked like it hadn't seen activity in a long time. On either side of the fireplace, were two identical wooden doors. Automatically, she walked to the one on the left.

She hesitated before opening it, feeling a familiar tremor in her limbs. Was it too late to turn back now? The amulet burned against her skin and pulled her forward.

Opening the door, she entered a second, smaller room. Here, too, the room was lit with candles that threw dancing shadows onto the walls. This room was roughly square and far less cluttered than the main area, and in the centre, against the far wall was a bed. Here was where she found the object of her quest.

He was sprawled out on the bed, half raised on one elbow and looking at her intensely. She noted with trepidation that he appeared to be naked under the dark sheet that was casually draped over his hips.

Suddenly she was struck with how insane this was and began to back out of the doorway. There was no way in hell she wanted to repeat the previous evening's ormaormance.

Professor Snape smirked at her. “Do come in, child. Although next time I would appreciate it if you knocked.”

Hermione blanched. After this, there would be no next time. She had come to get information and that's exactly what she would do. She hesitated then took a few small steps into the room.

“There's nothing I appreciate more than the hiss of a simmering cauldron,” Snape said casually, “unless it's the sight of a lovely, intelligent young woman wearing nothing but the blush on her cheeks.”

With a gaHermHermione realised she was naked, that she had been all along. The amulet resting between her breasts was the only thing she wore. Her cheeks flamed in response to Snape's leer, and the only thing that saved her from diving for cover was the knowledge that he wouldn't remember any of this. “My God, but you're a horny bastard,” she said. “It must be because you're so repressed.”

Snape's eyebrows rose in response. “This is your dream, too, Miss Granger.”

Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him. “What do you mean?” She was already off-balance, but now an uneasy feeling began to erode at any boldness she may have possessed.

“Think, you silly girl,” he snapped at her, suddenly irritated – a trace of the Snape she knew. “You're not that deficient in the grey matter department.”

She felt the hot amulet against her skin and reached up to grab it. This, she thought, this was not part of the dream. It was real – she knew that where her body lay on the bed in her room, the amulet was there, too, and it was not something that Snape should have known about. She had brought it into the dream. With a flash she understood how it worked and in another instant, she was dressed in her usual robes.

Snape looked up from where he was stretched out on the bed, but this time, his sallow skin now stood out as a contrast to the dark Muggle shirt and trousers he wore.

“I control the dream, don't I?” Hermione said. She hated to think what that might actually mean.

“Very possibly,” Snape said sourly.

“I've never seen you wear Muggle clothes,” she said and was struck with how skinny he was – now that the fantasy veneer was gone.

“I don't,” Snape grimaced. “I look ridiculous. I got these from your mind,” he looked down at his new attire. “Don't worry,” he added when he saw the expression on her face. “I can't read your mind unless I use Legelimency, but for some reason I seem to know things you know. ”

“Like I knew these chambers were yours.”

Snape had turned from sexy to sulky. He grunted at her. “If this is not going to be one of those dreams, then you may as well go away.”

Hermione stepped closer to him and with a suggestive look, said, “Make me...”

“I wish I could,” Snape's lips curled into a sneer, “but you know very well, Miss Granger, that you have me at your mercy.”

The thought intrigued Hermione more than she liked to admit. Severus Snape – the man who made small children cry, and most adults, too – at her mercy. She wondered how far she could push the limits of the dream. Taking another step closer, Hermione reached the foot of the bed. “Does that mean you will answer my questions?”

Folding his arms across his chest, Snape leaned back and looked her up and down with the remnants of his leer. “Perhaps... If you give me a reason...”

Hermione gave a short nod. “I see. Horny bastard really is all you. But I'm fairly certain that I don't have to participate this time.”

“Oh, you disappoint me, Miss Granger. You participated so well last time.” He licked his finger suggestively.

She rolled her eyes at him, despite the blush and said pointedly, “I dare you to say that in class on Monday, Professor. A man your age should be ashamed of himself.”

Snape coughed. “I don't believe that you're in the position to talk about scruples. Entering my dream uninvited is tantamount to psychic rape. If you feel that you can to take advantage of me, then by rights, I should be able to take advantage of you.”

Catching her unaware, he managed to swing his leg and hook it around her, bringing her crashing down on top of him. Before she could move, his arms were around her and clasping her bottom.

“Let me go,” she said through gritted teeth as she struggled against him.

“I don't think so, Miss Granger.” He licked his lips, only inches from hers. “I can't remember the last time a young woman invited herself into my inner sanctum. Even if this is only a dream, I intend to take full advantage of it.

Damn, Hermione thought as his lips descended onto her neck and began to work their way up her jawline, I thought I was the one in control here. She tried to arch herself away but that only made him grin lasciviously.

“Struggling like that is only going to make me enjoy myself more.” He gripped her buttocks firmly for emphasis then twisted to pull her onto her back. He ended up on top of her with a leg wedged in between hers.

“Wait,” Hermione said, trying to catch her breath. She managed to put her hand on his chest and pushed him away slightly. “I'll make a deal with you. You answer my question and I'll give you what you want.”

Snape's eyebrow raised as he looked down his curved nose at her. “Let's rephrase that, shall we? I will answer whatever silly question you have, and you will not only let me fuck you, you will also enjoy it.”

Hermione swallowed, then nodded. “Agreed. But only here. And afterwards, I'll leave your dreams alone.”

He chuckled a little and Hermione was shocked to hear him laugh. She didn't think he could. “Very well, Miss Granger. As you wish. But remember, don't break a deal with a Slytherin. I'll make sure you pay up, one way or another.” He rolled off her and turned on his side. “Ask away – I'm all yours...”

Hermione moved away from him and sat up, smoothing the front of her robes in consternation. She might have just done a very stupid thing. “Okay,” she began. “Tell me about the night Dumbledore died. I want to know everything that happened – as far as you can remember.” She turned to look him in the eye and couldn't help but smirk a little at how she had taken him by surprise with her question.

He was silent for a few shocked seconds, then his mouth twisted into a half smile. “I can't tell you anything about that night, Miss Granger.”

“We have a deal, Professor.” Her eyes narrowed.

“And I have answered you to the best of my ability, Miss Granger. I can't tell you what happened that night, because I don't remember. I personally removed those memories, and apart from the fact that Dumbledore died, and I was made to rescue Potter, which you already know from what others have said, I cannot tell you anything.”

She stared at him. “Then tell me where those memories are stored!” she demanded.

“I only agreed to one question,” Snape said smoothly. He reached out and brushed her thigh with his fingers. “Shall we?”

Hermione slapped his hand away and leapt off the bed. “I don't think so, Professor.” She needed to get out of there before things escalated again. Obviously she was outmatched here, and he was not going to stop trying to get past her defences. “I guess I'll have to find what I want some other way. Goodbye Professor,” she said. He moved to grab her just as she spoke the spell that would take her back to her body and to reality.