Through the Looking Glass ~ COMPLETED

Chapter 51 ~ What She Needs

Hermione entered, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. Snape followed, immediately transforming into his counterpart, his hair becoming lank and stringy, his body appearing to lose mass, becoming thinner. Raised scars appeared on his skin, and a distinct feeling of coolness slipped under his robes, the wizard left only in graying, but comfortable cotton briefs. His black eyes darted around the room curiously. This was—interesting. It looked a bit like Minerva’s former quarters.

Hermione turned, then caught her breath as she looked at the transformed Snape, mixed feelings rising within her as she looked at the double of the Potions master. Snape noticed her increased breathing and slowly closed the door behind him. It sealed, the seams disappearing, merging with the surroundings.

“So, this is your scenario,” he said to Hermione softly.

They stood in Snape’s private quarters located in the dungeons. The walls were covered in books from floor to ceiling, and it was sparsely furnished with a liquor cabinet, two armchairs, a sofa and a writing desk in the corner. A large Slytherin standard hung above a fireplace in which crackled a small fire. The floor was bare stone and well spaced torches lit the space. It was rather dark, however, despite the torchlight. It felt as if the darkness came from another, slightly sinister source.

”It’s his study,” she replied, then pointed to a dark rectangular doorway. “And that’s his bedroom.”

Snape saw a flicker of torchlight reflect off the walls in the room. He bet it was just as gloomy as the study. He looked at the witch, who was staring at the doorway with glistening eyes. She looked haunted.

”I need you to tell me what you want, Hermione. You have to tell me what he’s like so I can better act the part,” the Transfiguration teacher informed her.

Hermione slowly turned her gaze from the doorway to rest upon the wizard.

”What he’s like?” she asked rather hollowly, her eyes vacuous as she looked at him.

It was easy to see she was quite affected by his counterpart, and Snape wasn’t sure that it was in a good way. What had happened between them to make her react this way? To be so thrown off her game?

”Yes. What he’s like,” Snape urged. “And what you hope to do here. I need to understand.”

”He was a Slytherin. Rather dark and cold in his way. He didn’t smile and he talked very quietly,” Hermione said.

”How was he intimately?” Snape pressed.

”Selfish. Thoughtless. Brutal. It was all about him,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “He made me feel as if he believed he owned me, and—and that I was nothing more than—than dirt.”

Snape arched an eyebrow at her.

”Dirt?” he repeated, surprised.

She nodded.

”He didn’t understand me. Where I came from. The rules were different there. He wanted me to be monogamous and deal only with him. He was—jealous. It’s silly, but he was. And I told him what I would tell anyone—that I could be with who I wanted anytime I wanted. He didn’t take that well. I wasn’t with anyone else, but that didn’t matter to him at all. When I came to him—he—treated me like I had no feelings, no emotions, no nerve endings. I’ve had rough sex before, but—nothing like this. I always had a feeling of being appreciated, as if everything was mutual. Not with him. With him, I was just a series of warm, wet holes to stick his cock in over and over—“

Hermione’s eyes were on the floor and her lower lip trembled.

”He made me feel dirty for being who I was—for being myself. I never felt like that before. Then, when I came back here and all the teachers wanted me to start my extra credit and do—do—“

”Just tell me what you want now, Hermione. Do you really want to relive that again?” Snape asked her softly.

He didn’t like this. His counterpart was an animal. Sex wasn’t supposed to be that way. Even sexual domination had its limits and the act was mutual between partners. It seemed in Hermione’s case, it hadn’t been. She had been abused and mistreated in the worst way, simply because her outlook was different from his counterpart. He felt himself getting angry, but it was an impotent anger. There was no way to get back at his alternate self.

”No. That’s not what I want, exactly. I mean, I want you to act like him, but—but be kinder. Treat me better, show some appreciation—“

”So you want a happy ending?” Snape asked her quietly.

”Just a better one, something to replace what I have. Something that’s reciprocal. He didn’t let me do anything. He didn’t want me to. He just wanted his way. I didn’t get a chance to show him anything. He didn’t kiss me once. There wasn’t a single tender touch. Nothing, professor. And that’s stayed with me. It’s like he’s taken more than my body, it’s like he’s stolen part of who I am. I want it back.”

”You’re going to have to show me,” Snape said to her softly.

Hermione shuddered.

”No. I can’t,” she said, shaking her head.

”You have to if you want closure. I need to know what he did to you, so I know what to do to you, or how to do it rather. You’ve given me quite the list, Hermione. If I’m going to incorporate all of that, then I need to know more intimate details. I’m going to get a Pensieve. Legilimency is too painful. Wait here.”

The door reformed and Snape walked through it.

Hermione sighed and sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. Yes, he would have to see for himself.

*******************************************

Snape viewed Hermione’s night with his counterpart, feeling a mixture of awe, revulsion, and amazement at the wizard’s brutality and stamina. Not only had he had his way with the Slytherin physically, but the verbal abuse was horrible. At least he had stopped to apply a Lubris spell on her. He was like a machine or golem in the way he’d gone at the witch, tireless, forceful, taking great pleasure in dragging her about by her hair, folding her into submissive positions and pounding her with all his strength. That Snape was a thinner man than he, but in the cock department, he was just as well hung. He was also covered in scars, particularly his back. Someone had scourged him terribly.

Snape came out of the Pensieve, placed it on the small table between the armchairs and looked at Hermione, whose eyes rested on the floor. Gods, what she had gone through was both horrible, but arousing. Part of Snape enjoyed seeing her get what for, but it was a very small part of him, most likely due to her disrespect and mistreatment over the years. If he had felt a small need for vengeance during their time together, it was completely quelled. Hermione Granger had been through the wringer, and seeing himself do it was disturbing.

”Your counterpart made her world sound non-violent for the most part,” he said to Hermione softly. “But what I’ve seen tonight is one of the most violent acts I’ve ever witnessed. I am nothing like him. He’s an animal. I’m sorry.”

Hermione looked into the flickering flames of the fireplace.

”I think—I think something awful was happening to him. You saw all the scars. Torture isn’t supposed to be part of that world. It’s frowned on. But it’s clear he’d been tortured. He wouldn’t say anything about how he got those scars. I don’t think he did witches much. He wasn’t very attractive on that side. Maybe—maybe that’s why he was so—“

“Don’t make excuses for him. Although the night was consensual, it was clear you had no choice once the doors were closed. You didn’t engage him in the usual reciprocal manner sexual encounters are supposed to entail. Did you get any pleasure from this at all?”

Hermione shifted in the chair uncomfortably, not wanting to answer him.

Snape’s black eyes rested on her consideringly.

”You did get something out of it, didn’t you? For the first time in your life, Hermione Granger, you weren’t in control. You were at someone else’s mercy, and he had none, much like you here. You’re known for your brutality to others as well. In that world, the tables were turned on you. This man didn’t adore you, didn’t place you on a pedestal. In fact, he browbeat you and dragged you through the dirt. You learned what it is to be helpless—“

Snape realized that his counterpart’s actions were most likely the catalyst that caused Hermione to rebel against the system here when she returned. She was still affected by his treatment when the teachers began demanding she resume her “extra credit” work, which consisted of sexual favors. She was in no state to engage them and felt pressured and resentful. And that’s what set the entire boycott in motion, with a little prompting on Snape’s part.

The alternate Snape had been a cruel bastard, but some good had come out of it.

“I think I know how to go about this,” Snape said. “I can reenact your night, but temper it. It’s clear to me, Hermione, that despite your dominant nature, you have something of the submissive in you sexually.”

Hermione’s eyes went hard immediately.

”Submissive? I’m not a sub, professor. I never have been,” she snarled at him, angry now.

Snape cocked his head at her.

”I think that depends on whom you’re engaging, Hermione. I couldn’t help but notice that despite my counterpart’s brutality, and the pain you had to feel at some points, you simply screamed. But, you never screamed ‘stop.’ There were a few half-hearted ‘no’s’ and ‘pleases’ but no full out ‘stops.’ For this night to serve its purpose, you’re going to have to be a sub. The safe word will be—‘Daddy.’”

Hermione looked at Snape. His eyes were rather hard now. He’d made his decision on how this was going to go, and he looked so much like Slytherin Snape, her belly flipped over.

”Daddy?” she repeated, her anger melting away.

”Yes. Daddy,” Snape reiterated, rising up out of the armchair and holding out one pale hand. “Now, hand over your wand. I won’t have you blasting me. Give it here.”

Snape spoke very softly, like his counterpart. He noticed his counterpart never once raised his voice, but punctuated his commands with hisses and growls rather than shouts. It made what he’d done to her even more brutal in its way, that deceptive soft voice cursing her as he pounded her. He sounded like a lover even as he acted the monster.

Hermione pulled her wand out of her robes pocket and placed it into his hand. Snape very slowly curled his fingers around it, Hermione watching as he took away her main protection. He turned and exited the room for a moment, returning to his usual form as he locked her wand away, then he returned to the pseudo-study, closing the door behind him. He stopped in the middle of the room. Hermione was looking at him over the top of the armchair.

”Don’t sit there gawking at me, you silly chit. You’re here for a purpose, and that purpose is to please me. Get over here, now,” he hissed at her, his eyes narrowed.

Hermione blinked at him.

”Don’t make me come to you, witch,” he said with deceptive softness. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

Hermione didn’t move. She wanted to see if the Transfiguration teacher had really gotten the gist of the alternate Severus Snape.

Suddenly, the wizard strode around the chair and caught a hank of her hair, pulling her up out of her seat, his eyes glittering.

”I told you to move,” Snape hissed, his face close to hers, his expression dangerous.

Then he roughly kissed her, still clutching her hair and using it to hold her steady as he invaded her hot, sweet mouth with his tongue. It was heaven to the wizard, but he couldn’t show that. All he could do was enjoy this.

He broke the kiss, Hermione gasping from the passion of it. Then he wrenched her head around lightly by the hair.

”You will either listen to me or pay the price,” he breathed, yanking her hard against his body with his other arm. She could feel his rock hard erection clearly through his robes and briefs. The wizard pressed it into her lower belly, rolling his pelvis slightly.

“And even with your cooperation, Hermione, there is still a price,” he added, capturing her mouth again.

**************************************
A/N: Thanks for reading.