Contracts

I have added some warnings to this story. Sorry for overlooking them earlier. Humil/Spank/Dom/Sub. This will not be the theme for the entire story, but it is a part of the beginning. Someone suggested Chan. I don't know what that means and it is not in the Codes section. Please educate me.

I don't own any of the Wonderful Harry Potter characters. I have purchased copies of all the books, VHS, and DVD. What can I say?


*****Chapter 5 In The Bedroom ****

Hermione was slowly drifting up from sleep. She was warm. The covers were silky and smelt like…well like…Professor Snape?!?!?

Oh? Oh-h….. Oh no!

Hermione was lying perfectly still. She had even stopped breathing for a moment. Her eyes opened slowly and she looked around the unfamiliar room.

The room was as large as the dormitories the girls slept in at Hogwarts. There was a fire merrily crackling away in the corner of the room in an enormous fireplace. The fireplace was large enough to roast a pig. There were gorgeous wall scones at least 6 feet in length hanging from either side of the mantle. Several wands hung over the fireplace. Prominently displayed. They were of different sizes and textures. One in particular seemed to gleam with a silver light.

There were 2 wingback chairs in front of the fireplace. A fainting couch underneath the only window she could see and an armoire. A full length mirror in an ornate black frame stood close to the bed. In the mirror she could see book shelves on the other side of the room. Another chair stood beside a low table with a decanter that held a rich umber color liquid and several jewel colored potions bottles. The potion bottles reminded her of the small vials that had been filled with her blood yesterday.

Yesterday. Yesterday, she was contracted to the Snape Family. She was now Hermione Snape. She was still a little fuzzy on some of the details.

Glimpses of the men and her responses to them briefly fluttered through her mind. The kiss. The tattoo. She started to move her hand to her side. That was when she realized she couldn’t move. Something or someone was holding her down.

Her mind acknowledged that there was an arm thrown over her stomach. She resisted the urge to snuggle back into the arms holding her. It always felt so good waking up next to Harry. But everything was telling her that this was not Harry.

Her torso was pressed firmly into the chest holding her, but her hips were several inches from the body that was behind her. She tried to carefully wiggle just enough to slip out from under the restraining arms.
She must have wiggled in the wrong direction. That is when she felt someone’s early morning erection pressed into her back and that was when she froze. Fuzziness leaving her brain. This was definitely NOT Harry.

Professor Snape came fully awake. He didn’t open his eyes or change his breathing pattern, but he was very much awake and aware. He had learned to give nothing away. He immediately knew where he was and who he was in bed with. He decided to stay as he was in order to see what her reaction would be. True, he had managed to spike her pumpkin juice at Hogwarts with a mild calming draught. Convincing her parents that they must all partake of the elixir in order to cleanse their minds was easy after assuring her that it was made from all natural ingredients. He had to increase their dosage slightly more than Hermiones. He would usually make sure that they had ingested just a little of the elixir before he arrived. It just served to keep them calm and open to suggestion. The last part was a tweak of his own device. He wasn’t a Potions Master for nothing.

After several moments. Several very still moments. She tried to get out of bed again. The problem was the arm was wrapped firmly around her waist and the fingers were wedged under her body. The arm held her more securely than Harry usually did. She tried wiggling out from under the arm but that was causing the hand to come into contact with her breast. Her bare breast.

The fact she was naked stopped her efforts to get up. Her mind was working on WHY she was naked. The last thing she remembered was sitting on Professor Snape’s lap and he touched her tattoo and kissed her. That was all she could remember. Bits and pieces of Professor Snape’s conversation from last night came back to her.

She slumped in defeat.

She knew whose arm was around her. She was held in bed by a Snape. It didn’t really matter which one. She started to cry. After a few moments she lost the battle of trying to be quite.

It was all just too much.

Was it only a little over a week ago that she first learned she was going to be contracted? She had just broke up with her first boyfriend when she was summoned into the Headmasters office just a few days shy of the end of her 4th year. She had been shocked to see her parents sitting in the room. Happy but shocked, ….and wary. Rightly so as it turned out.

The Headmaster had explained to her some of the history of contract marriages. Hermione had not really understood at the time why she was getting a lesson on contracts. Unless Viktor was contracted and that was the reason Professor Snape had told her that he could no longer see her. That would explain a lot.

Professor Dumbledore went into some detail explaining that when a child was contracted while relatively young one ceremony was performed , but if a young girl had already/or was approaching puberty then a different ceremony was required.

The second ceremony is used to divine purity and the bonding rituals must be more intense because the overall time frame, from bonding to mating, will be shorter. While the first ceremony is fairly straight forward, the second has some required rituals that a younger child would not be subjected.

He briefly touched on being bonded to a Clan as vs. an individual. Hermione had kind of tuned him out temporarily trying to puzzle why her dad was sweating and her mom was fidgeting. They were very self possessed individuals and did not “squirm” as a rule. Their body language was telling Hermione that something was very wrong!


“…so you can see the advantages to being contracted to a clan. A choice will be made among all of the eligible males for the contractee. The original contract may contain certain legal clauses such as dowry bestowed, the right to complete their education, or even to determine how large a family is required. The contract should be carefully thought out before the ceremony with the heads of house hold being in agreement to the terms.”


When she tuned Dumbledore back in he was just wrapping up his impromptu lesson on marriage contracts. She couldn’t have zoned out for more than a full minute at most. However, Hermione was positive that Headmaster Dumbledore did not elaborate on the rituals. She was equally as certain that her parents had no inkling of what she had went through yesterday. Or what she would be going through for the next 6 weeks.

She had listened politely and respectfully to the Headmaster. The whole time trying to fit Viktor and her relationship into this contract business. Perhaps they were star-crossed lovers like Romeo and Juliet.

Hermione chastised herself, “Get a grip Hermione. You are losing it. Star crossed lovers indeed! One real kiss with a little tongue did not make lovers. Star crossed or over wise. “

Shortly after Dumbledore finished speaking her parents started talking to her about the lack of opportunities for muggleborns in her chosen world. She really didn’t catch on at first.

So much for being the smartest witch in a century.

When her parents started expounded on the advantages and disadvantages of being contracted to a Noble Pure Blood Clan she began to get an idea of what they were up to. As they continued, it finally became apparent that not only were they going to contract her to someone, they already had him picked out, and had received Dumbledores blessing.

Bloody Hell, he might even have helped pick him out.

Hermione quietly started to panic. It didn’t matter who it was. She was not ready to have her choices taken away or her future decided by anyone. Even her parents. She was a legal adult and she would not give in to them.

She must have gotten a glazed look in her eyes, because her mother was asking her if she was alright. “Alright. You are sitting there telling me that you have GIVEN me to some family. Me your daughter you profess to love. To a pure blood family, no less. Why don’t you just kill me now?!?!? I’m sure it would be less painful in the long run. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to defend myself against one of the UPSTANDING pure blood families? Do you have any idea how many times one of the Noble pure blood families have tried to kill me?” Hermione had started off raising her voice and ended up screaming like a banshee.

Her mother tried to soothe her and her father started to bluster. Hermione was so mad all she saw was a haze. No it was a light. A bright white light. She equated the light with freedom and walked into it. Happily! She wasn’t aware when her body winked out of existence. She had no clue she had transferred to another plane of existence.

She just felt utterly content. Her thoughts were organized into a new clarity. She understood things that had always eluded her. She was standing in pure light, pure knowledge. The feeling was incredible.

It became apparent how she had been manipulated by her parents and the headmaster. She sensed another presence. A dark presence. Maybe it was this unknown clan whose praises were sung so high.

Hermione’s perception of being in this other realm was of only a few minutes. In those few minutes she understood more than in a whole year of research. Pieces of knowledge seemingly unrelated came together in a new and exciting way. She could probably solve any problem in the whole world….

In her parents time it was several hours before they could find a way to bring her back.

Hermione’s few moments of bliss were short lived. A hand came out of no where and drew her unwillingly back to her reality. The reality of parents who thought they were doing the best thing for their daughter, a Headmaster who was convinced he was providing protection for one of his darling students, and a dark potion master who seemed to be there only for the enjoyment of her dilemma.

It was Professor Snape who had pulled her back into this world and it was him who placed a heavy black bangle on her ankle. It was a dark piece of jewelry, obsidian in color. Quite attractive from an aesthetic point of view, but it’s purpose was clear. It was an anchor to keep her from returning to the world where everything was clear. The anklet was to keep her from the peace, tranquility, and knowledge that she had tried to so desperately cling to.

When the clasp around her ankle closed she knew with which family her parents had entered into a contract. The slave anklet was not removable. Snape had just made his first claim on her. She shivered as a fog seemed to surround her. The fog clouded everything , her perception of the situation she was in and the possible motives for each player. Eventually she closed her eyes and fell asleep standing up. Her last conscious thought before she drifted off was that she had just experienced her last peaceful moment. Maybe forever.
***
Hermione snapped herself out of her reverie.

That was old news. This was NOW.

She looked at the hand that was laying over her waist and the long fingers. The small scars from years of perfecting his knife welding abilities was a dead give away. She was in bed with the biggest, baddest Snape.

Snape was practicing Leglimens. He didn’t consciously start it. He just kind of slithered into her mind. At the last memory he would have snorted if he hadn’t caught a hint her and Potter sleeping together. That would have to be sorted very shortly. He tried to delve deeper into those thoughts, but Hermione was squirming again trying to get up. A picture of a lavatory was very plain in her mind and he knew now was the time to let her know he was awake.

Snape squeezed her up against his body thigh to chest. At her gasp, turned groan from the squeeze he released her.

“The facilities are to your left.” His voice was not loud, but she jumped anyway. She was startled when he spoke. She had thought he was still asleep.

She mumbled, “Thank you”, and pulled the covers back. When she was reminded of her nakedness she quickly pulled the covers back over her.

Snape’s voice taunted her. “I thought you had to use the facilities?”

She just blushed. Her bladder was uncomfortably full. She had to go really bad but she didn’t want to parade around starkers. She had been forced to do quite enough of that yesterday. When she didn’t respond Snape decided he had a golden opportunity.

“Hermione, I thought we established the ground rules yesterday. When I ask a question you answer.” When Hermione still didn’t say anything he said, “Yesterday I couldn’t get you to be quite and this morning you’ve only spoken two words.” She still remained silent.

Snape let out an exaggerated breath and said, “That’s your first disobedience of the day. Do not start my day out like this. Get up and go to the lavatory!”

Still Hermione hesitated. Snape growled, “Either go now, or I will forbid you to use the facilities for the next several hours!”

Professor Snape indicated that nothing was stopping her. She turned her back to him and steeled herself to walk across the floor. She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t actually see him. Walking back in would be the hard part.

Snape got out of bed and leisurely performed a cleansing spell. He made the bed and he tidied his hair and put on a silk robe. He rarely wore his teaching robes outside of Hogwarts. The silk robes were cooler in the summer. He rarely wore anything under it when at home. It was the way of the wizards. He was now challenging that decision. There was no way to disguise his reaction to the young body he had woke up to in the thin robes. Before he could make a conscious decision of what to do about it the door to the lavatory opened and Hermione peeked around the door.

Patience Severus. She’s young, scared. You are after all the big greasy bat. Well, I’m not going to eat her…well not yet anyway.

“Dawdling will do nothing but incense me, which will make your life in general harsher than it needs be.” At these clipped tones, her body cleared the bathroom door and she walked into the room.

The bed was already made so that was not an option. She knew without being told. She walked a few steps closer to him and stopped. She was still at least a couple arms length away. He noticed that she had attempted to tame her hair, but had not had much success. It still appeared to be unorderly. He walked closer to her and touched the top of her head with his wand and her hair fell into a perfect French plait. His eyes traveled down her body until he came to her other patch of bushy hair. Hermione noticed his gaze and started to cover herself and then remembered his order not to hide herself.

While she was embarrassed and trying to figure our what to do with her hands Severus had expertly shaved her pubic hair into a perfectly trimmed triangle pointing to her nether attributes. He nodded in satisfaction. Much better.

Hermione didn‘t know what was more disturbing: the fact that Professor Snape knew hair charms or outrage that he had trimmed and shaved her bushy mound without a by your leave. She opened her mouth to explode when she saw his expression and thought better of it.

Severus caught the look on her face, he watched her struggle with her outrage and desire to attack or at least question him to death. Good she was already learning.

He owed her no explanation, but as a reward for remaining quite he gave her the explanation she wanted. “You look more …appealing this way.”

Hermione, really didn’t know what to say. He had a right to look, even touch if he wanted, why was she so bent out of shape because he had taken a simple liberty.

Why?

Because she wasn’t being treated as a person. She was being treated as a possession. Her mind started to clear from the daze that had held her since she returned from her little excursion to the other realm. It was a very brief moment of clarity.

Her rational mind went back into hiding when Professor Snape took her hand and led her to an odd looking piece of furniture. It looked like a cross between a prayer bench and one of those circular, conical shaped couches that you sometimes saw in the lobbies of the larger Ritzier hotels.

He helped her to step up onto the bench.

“Most Wizarding children are very familiar with this piece of furniture. As are a good number of wives. It is simply called the Discipline Chair.”

While he was speaking to her he was directing her with his hands. She kneeled on the chair facing the conical shape. Professor Snape lifted her arms high above her head and touched them to the chair. They stuck exactly where he placed them. She looked up and could see no bonds but she was held very firmly.


“.. As you will find out over the course of your life the chair can do many amazing things. The chair responds to mental as well as verbal commands, but only to the Head of House.” Professor Snape took her knees and spread them far apart. She could feel the strain on her thighs. She struggled to bring them back in just a little to become more comfortable, but it wasn’t happening. Her legs were now as firmly secured as her hands.

Professor Snape stepped back and surveyed his handy work. He silently commanded the chair to move her arms into more of an embrace. The movement caused her back to arch. The angle was perfect. He stepped forward and touched her bum. There was a slight bruising. He ran both hands over it and when he heard a gasp he asked her if it hurt. When she said, “Yes.” he chuckled darkly .

“Never lie to me Hermione. I am a Leglimens. I can tell you are going to lie before the words leave your mouth.“

With that he turned and walked over to the bedside table. He opened a drawer and picked up a whip, it was a modified version of a cat-o-nine tails. Instead of having instruments to tear and rend the skin at the bottom of each strand it just had a knot tied into the leather which alternated with a piece of silk that was woven into the whip itself.

He looked at her backside. There were no markings from the paddling she had received last night, other than a very faint bruising. He was glad. He had spanked her too strenuously. There was really no excuse. She had just infuriated him and he had taken it out on her. Not to the extent that it was abuse, but it had been an uncontrolled response. Severus despised losing control. He didn’t seem to have done any lasting damage. She wasn’t treating him much the same that she always had.

Professor Snape fingered the whip. It would leave ridges which would remind her of her transgressions. He also would not have to touch her. The whip it was.

Hermione could just imagine the picture she made. She was blushing in mortification. This was her 4th or 5th spanking in less than 24 hours. She never thought she had been that bad in her life.

Professor Snape warned her, “ I am ready to start. You will count each stroke as I tell you. If you lose count we will start over. Do you understand?”.

At her, “Yes, sir” he let the first stroke land on her raised bottom. She screamed, more in anticipation than actual pain. After a moment she said, “One”. Professor Snape brought down the whip twice more each time with a little more force, but she did not call out.

“That punishment was for lying to me. You will not lie to me again. If you do it will be 5 strokes for each occurrence.” She nodded in understanding.

“Now I will administer one stroke for your avoidance of a direct question. Begin your count at one.” This time the pain was a little more intense. She let out a loud groan on the last stroke. She sagged as she called out “ONE‘. She had survived. She tried to wiggle but she was still firmly bound. He had finished with her. Hadn’t he? She had made no other transgressions.

Snape didn‘t have to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking. “Oh, but you have. Remember the binding when I instructed you to keep your eyes open?” A jerky nod was his answer. She was biting her lip trying not to cry. She didn’t know if she could take any more it wasn‘t the pain as much as the humiliation.

Once again Professor Snape answered her thoughts. “These punishments are quite minor. You will have to go through a “breaking” process whereas you will be punished for every transgression. The purpose is to break your natural thought process. You have developed these responses and mannerisms over your life time. In just a few short weeks, I will try to get you to change your unconscious response to ones that are acceptable. This first step will be painful for you.

You should however see that it is necessary. You cannot pantomime the actions of a proper pure blood witch. You must develop the required responses. The proper response or lack there of must be instinctual. The time we have together is short so I must use stricter methods than I would if I had a longer period of time to work in.

Basically, I have to break your muggle way of thinking and reform it into the correct attitude of a proper witch. Which is almost the anti-thesis of what you have been taught to date. Resistance will not be tolerated and will be dealt with harshly.

We are dealing with more than attitude. What I am trying to instill in you may mean the difference between life and death for you, me, or even our entire family.” His voice had progressively gotten harsher as he had spoken.

“You will receive six lashes for not obeying me in public. Any public displays of disobedience can be doubled or if I feel the occasion warranted tripled. Begin.”

This time the cat-o-nine tails came down across her shoulders. Her bottom was throbbing and was somewhat dulled to the pain. Her back and shoulder were virgin territory so to speak. Each little whip raised a mark. Each stroke fell in a different location.

One…Two…Three…. The fourth stroke caught her higher than the others and one whip went flying about her throat in a parody of a caress….Four. She thought every spot on her back had been marked. He obviously thought the same thing as the last stroke made impact with her nether regions. The whip was brought up forcefully and her scream of pain was ripped from her as impact was made with her very tender flesh.

As soon as the last stroke fell she was released from the chair. She slithered onto the floor. Her body could not support itself. Her back felt like it was on fire. She was sobbing from pain and the humiliation of being treated like ….well like a …..

“Witch.” Hermione heard Professor Snape say. She raised her head and answered saying, “Yes” without looking him in the eyes.

He took her chin in his hand, forced her to look into his eyes and said, “You were just treated as a witch. There is no equality in this world. Wizards and power rule absolutely. I am a wizard. I am more powerful than you. I have complete control over you. Therefore I rule you. The sooner you come to realize this the less painful it will be to you.”

He looked deep into her mind, she was completely unguarded. He passed by her outrage and despair. He lingered just for a moment on her humiliation. It was sweet!

Then resolutely he went hunting. He knew what he wanted. The memory should still be close to the surface.

Ah! There it is! “…She resisted the urge to snuggle back into the arms holding her. It always felt so good waking up next to Harry…” He grabbed the memory and forced it back to its origins and he followed. Soon he was seeing Hermione laying in bed with Potter at Hogwarts. They were in the boys dorm. She was giving comfort to the boy-who-lived. They were in the common room on the couch. They were by the lake. They were in the room of requirement, at the Weasleys, order headquarters, hospital wing, and once on the Hogwarts Express. Each time she seemed to be either giving comfort or receiving comfort. Nothing sexual seemed to be involved. ”

Hermione realized what he was doing and was trying to break the control he was exerting over her memories. She started to struggle.

“Cease!” It was but one word. Hermione recognized it for the order it was and stopped struggling.
Severus allowed himself a congratulatory pat on the back. She was already starting to shape up.

Now where was that other memory.

He saw her walking up one of the staircases just as it started to change. She stumbled and overbalanced with her arms full of books, she tried to correct and jerked to far back she started to fall. He saw the time turner come out from under her robes and start tumbling in the air. She disappeared….and that was it. Professor Dumbledore must have put a block on her memory. Apparently he could not access her memories without her express permission.

He withdrew rather abruptly from her mind. Severus never did like to be thwarted.

Snape tossed her an order as he was walking out the door, “When you are done bathing, put on the gown hanging in the armoire and meet me in the parlor.” As she just sat there he said very distinctly, “Don’t dawdle. Your punishment was brought on my your actions. Keep that in mind and temper any of your independent thoughts. You are part of my family and I am the patriarch. The ruler. What I say is law. No dissention will be allowed.”

It was time to address his boys.

******
For those that reviewed kindly Thank you.
For those that didn't Thank you anyway.

This story will stay in the Hermione/Snape category. She will definitely marry a SNAPE. I'm just not telling which one. Yet.

If I mention a character and do not immediately give all of the statistics of that individual just hold your horses. I will eventually fill you in on what is happening. (Do you sneak and open all of your presents early and then are just bored on Christmas?)

Same thing with the Plot.

Some of you sound like you want to know everything RIGHT NOW.
If I told you, I guarantee you would be disappointed. It would go something like this.

Snape screwed Hermione. They liked/hated it. The lived happily ever after/Hermione found a new use for the slicing spell.

End of story.

Really exciting right.

For all of the critics...not just for my little story but others. If you can do better please try. We need more writers. Entertain me enough and I won’t write anymore. That’s a promise.

I started this story out of frustration, I too would like an update on my favorite stories everyday, but I'm old enough to know that it probably isn't going to happen.