#4 ~ The \"Up Against the Wall\" Wars

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine.
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Chapter 5 ~ A Revelation at Headquarters

Severus returned to consciousness slowly. And painfully. His neck hurt from his sleeping in the chair, head twisted at an awkward angle, and his skull was pounding. His throat felt as if he had swallowed an entire desert’s worth of sand. He was horribly thirsty and stunk of booze. With a groan, he turned a bleary, bloodshot eye to look at the open bottle of firewhiskey resting on the end table. It was two-thirds of the way gone. He then looked at the clock on the wall. It read nine-fifteen. Hermione was gone. He had a class of first years at ten. First years. What a way to start a day.

Gripping the arms of the chair, he pushed himself up like an old man, picked up his wand off the floor, and half walked, half staggered to his office where he unwarded his storeroom and found some hangover cure. Pulling out the cork, he swallowed the bitter liquid down, and his head cleared. Much better. He then walked to his bedroom, stripped down and headed for the shower. He put the water as cold as he could stand at first, and thrust himself under the spray, shivering, opening his mouth and gulping some down. After a few minutes, he adjusted the temperture to a more comfortable level and soaped his long, muscled body up and down, several times until he felt the stench of sweat and old liquor was at last washed away. He exited the shower, dried off, brushed his teeth and rinsed out his mouth. He grabbed his bottle of sandalwood oil and applied it liberally to his skin. Ah, he felt human again.

He returned to his bedroom and found his discarded clothing from the night before, gone. And on the bedside table was a cup of rich, steaming black coffee, and a crumpet. Hogwarts house-elves were quite efficient. He walked to the wardrobe and removed his teaching robes and a pair of silk boxers, which he pulled on. He lay the robes on his bed, sat down, picked up the cup of coffee and took a long, careful sip. It was delicious. He picked up the crumpet and bit it. Mmm. Butter and honey. Good. He chewed slowly and thoughtfully, thinking about Hermione.

The selfish part of him chided Severus for not taking Hermione one last time before she left to spend the week with Tonks and Kingsley. That would have been a sweeter memory than the one currently occupying his thoughts. How he had screamed at her, when really he wanted to oblige her…he shook his head. He sincerely hoped that Hermione would apply herself this week, find her inner lioness and return to Hogwarts roaring and ready. The thought of overpowering her, and the subsequent results of that, made his blood run cold. It was one thing to pretend to be a deatheater, and try to frighten her into compliance, it was another to actually commit the terrible crimes that any deatheater worth his salt would do, when having a beautiful, helpless victim in his hands. And considering the painful magical method used, there was no way Hermione would find such violation from him, despite her masochism, arousing or satisfying. It would break her. It had broken many before her.

Severus groaned. “Please, Hermione, train hard, my love.”

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Harry and Hermione landed in an alley near Grimmauld Place. Harry removed the disillusionment charm, and together they walked out of the alley and to the place where the house would stand. Muggles walked up and down the street, apparently not noticing the young woman with a suitcase, and the young man carrying a very fancy broom. They stood on the sidewalk between houses eleven and thirteen. Harry muttered the revealing spell, and twelve Grimmauld Place pushed itself out of nothingness, sliding the houses next to it aside. Hermione wondered about this type of magic…if it might have some other useful application.

“Come on, Herm.” Harry said, taking her suitcase from her and walking up the stairs. She followed as he opened the door and walked in.

The first thing Hermione noticed was the large empty rectangular space on the wall by the entrance, where the portrait of Mrs. Black, Sirus’ mother once hung, magicked in place. There were large gouges in the wall, suggesting it was quite a battle removing the picture. Mrs. Black had the habit of screaming insults and expletives at those who were occupying her ancestral home if she heard them enter or leave. It would take quite a while for her to calm down, her shrill voice ringing through the place like a banshee. Hermione was not surprised someone got fed up and rid of her.

The second thing she noticed was Kreacher, Mrs. Black old house-elf, slinking through the living area, peering at her furtively, an unpleasant, toothy grin on his shriveled face.

“The mudblood is back. Kreacher thinks it will be black and blue. Kreacher thinks it won’t last long,” the elf muttered, clearly heard as he slouched up the stairs and around the corner, looking back from time to time, a hateful expression on his features.

Harry looked at Hermione as the elf disappeared, and shrugged his shoulders.

“We have to keep him. He knows too much.”

Hermione nodded, “I know. And I’m used to his insults. It’s no problem,” she looked up the stairs thoughtfully, then shuddered, remembering the house-elves’ blood-thirsty ferocity during the Final Battle, “I’m glad he’s so powerfully bound. I bet he’d like nothing better than to rip all our throats out at night when we’re sleeping.”

Harry took her hand and pulled her along. “Enough about Kreacher. Let’s go find Tonks.”

They found her all right, sitting in the kitchen, sipping pumpkin juice while leafing through this week’s edition of Witch Weekly. Her pixieish face was scanning the pages, and her hair was spiked, and she had managed to color it a pink and black zebra-stripe, which matched her black stretch jeans and pink t-shirt. She looked up sharply when they pushed into the room. Instantly, a bright cheery smile lit up her face as she popped up from the chair.

“Wotcha Harry, Hermione!” she cried as she zipped over and gave them both hugs. She looked at Hermione appraisingly.

“Hey…you ready to work this time? No sodding about, hiding in your rooms?”

“Yes, I intend to work hard enough to knock you on your arse, several times,” Hermione replied with a wicked smile.

Tonks eyes narrowed, in a competitive way, clearly looking forward to Hermione’s attempts. Then she stepped forward and took Hermione’s bag out of Harry’s hand.

“Harry, you got an owl,” she said, “The ministry wants you to return ASAP. Don’t know what it’s all about really, but you better go. You know how they get when trainees aren’t prompt.”

“Damn,” Harry said looking at Hermione, “I was hoping to help get you settled in, at least…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her, Harry,” Tonks said briefly, toting Hermione’s suitcase up the stairs, “You get along now. Come on, Hermione.” Tonks disappeared around the corner.

Hermione hugged Harry. “Think you can get back this afternoon? I really want to go see that wizard you were telling me about.”

“I’ll do my best to get away. About fivish?” he asked, looking at his friend with tenderness in his green eyes.

Hermione nodded, “Yes that will be fine.” She kissed his cheek. “Bye, Harry.”

He opened the door and looked back at her, “Bye, Hermione…you knock Tonks on her arse.”

Hermione smiled. “I’m going to try.”

Harry left, closing the door behind him.

Hermione sighed. She hadn’t seen him in so long.

“Hermione! Get your arse up here!” came Tonks shrill voice,

She took the stairs two at a time.

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Hermione looked through the library book catalogues, as a much toned-down Tonks leaned against a bookshelf, looking extremely bored. They were at the local muggle library, and Hermione was getting the books she needed on assassins and defense.

“Can’t you hurry it along?” Tonks asked, her eyes looking about the library, “I hate libraries. All these books give me the heebie-jeebies, they do. I ever tell you how I got attacked by a bunch of really ticked-off books in the restricted section when I was at Hogwarts? One nearly tore my leg off…”

Hermione chuckled, “No, but I’m sure you will someday. Anyway, I’ve found what I’m looking for…won’t be long now.”

Tonks continued to look around the library, frowning. “Nope. I don’t like ‘em. Books.”

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Hermione and Tonks were back by four-thirty. Since Kingsley was away on Order business for the day, it was decided that they would get to the business of training on the morrow. Tonks suggested a run in the morning. Hermione agreed. She liked running.

The two women sat at the kitchen table, each with a butterbeer. Hermione was aware of Tonks staring keenly at her.

“What?” she asked, slightly annoyed at being stared at.

“Well,’ Tonks began eagerly, “ I was just wondering, you know? Hearing about you and Snape. It’s bloody wild.”

Hermione began to flush crimson, as the auror continued in a low voice,

“So what’s he like, love? I mean he’s all dark, and cold and restrained…kind of stuffy, know what I mean? Is he always like that? You are shagging him, aren’t you?” she asked, longing to be in the know.

Hermione considered. She didn’t really have anyone to talk about Severus to, well no one who really approved. Ron and Harry would lose their lunch if she even hinted about sex with the Potions Master. She looked at Tonks, who was drumming the tabletop with impatience.

“Well,” Hermione said, hesitating.

“Well?” Tonks egged her on.

“He’s…he’s…AMAZING!” Hermione breathed.

Tonks slapped the table and hooted. “I knew it! I knew it! Any man who holds back like Snape does had to have some secret release. Strong?”

“Yes.”

“Intense? Insatiable?”

“Yes.”

“Hung like a mountain troll?”

“YES,” Hermione blurted out, laughing as Tonk rolled her eyes and kicked back her chair on two legs.

“The real Serpent of Slytherin, oh wow, this is too much!” the Auror laughed, tears running down her cheeks.

The two women laughed a good while. Hermione felt a sense of relief at having someone to talk to that didn’t judge her relationship, just accepted it. Tonks was really all right.

“He’s going to be testing what I learned when I return to Hogwarts,: Hermione told her. “He’s going to be attacking me at random. He said if he overpowers me, he’s going to hurt me, to give me incentive to do better.”

Tonks sobered immediately.

“Snape is going to be testing you?” Tonks said, her voice deadly serious. “Oh man, Hermione. Snape conducted training here for a little while. He’s dead dangerous. Dead serious about teaching too. He uses deatheater methods of attack. He fights like the devil. He’s almost a beserker.”

Tonks looked at Hermione, her eyes wide with concern. “He never really hurt us, though. Yelled a lot, but that was it. Did he say how he was going to hurt you?”

“Not exactly,” Hermione replied, “But he did say he would give me something temporary for pain that would allow me to get back to my rooms…”

“What else did he say?” Tonks asked, her brow furrowed now. Hermione didn’t like the look on the Auror’s face. She told Tonks everything Severus had said. The auror sat back in her chair, and dropped her head, massaging her temples with her thumb and forefinger. She looked up at Hermione.

“If he overpowers you, he will probably rape you, Hermione,” she said shortly.

Hermione froze, then said a bit embarrassed, “I can’t see how he could do that. I’d probably like it. I kind of…like it rough. And we’re not having sex right now, so…if that’s the case…I’d get caught on purpose.”

She imagined Severus having his wicked way with her, in some out of the way place, and felt a little explosion of warm in the crotch of her panties.

Tonks shook her head, “You won’t like this, I don’t care how rough you like it. This is deatheater rape. There is a spell…to cause pain, bad pain. Excruciating pain. Believe me, if you go through that, you won’t want it to ever happen again. I know…” Tonks’ voice dropped to a low whisper, “it happened to me, when I first became an auror. Kingsley saved me from being killed, but not before I was raped. It was horrible. I wanted them to kill me, but they didn’t…they just made me scream and scream, and laughed at me…Hermione, you don’t want to go through that, not even once. If that’s the incentive he’s going to give you to fight, it will be effective, believe me. You won’t want him near you again, you’d kill to keep him away from you.”

Hermione was about to reply to Tonks when she heard the front door open.

“Hermione, you ready?” It was Harry’s voice.

“Coming, Harry!” she called back, rising from the table, Tonks’ worried eyes focused on her

“We’ll talk when I get back,” she said to the Auror.

“Right we will,” replied Tonks, a dangerous look in her eyes.

Hermione nodded and headed for the foyer, and Harry.

Harry stood by the door, his broom in hand. On seeing the dazed look on Hermione’s face, he knew something serious was on his friend’s mind.

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” he asked, concern making him frown.

She looked up at him, her amber eyes dark, “Nothing I can’t handle,’ she replied with a steely edge to her voice. She walked past him to the front door, determination dripping from every step.

“Come on,” she said in that same, hard voice, “let’s go see a wizard about some weapons.”

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A/N: I think Hermione’s got the full measure of it now…it’s war, baby.