Mrs.Malfoy

AUTHOR NOTES: OMG Say it with me… IT’S UPDATED!!! LOL… angst, a bit of lemon, a bit of hate, a bit of torture…a little bit for everybody. I think my plot bunnies are actually working with me now, instead of against me. Enjoy!

Hermione’s hair was loosely bound on the top of her head. Her robe was tied tight around her thin waist. She sat down to the breakfast table and inhaled the delicious aroma of eggs, bacon, crepes, strawberry preserves, toast, and capers on the side. Dobby had outdone himself once again.

“Thank you, Dobby,” she softly said as she sank her fork into the paper thin crispness of the crepes. “Everything looks divine.”

“As divine as your bath last night, my wife?”

Her skin crawled. Lucius had approached the kitchen from the hidden door around the corner. She knew it was there, but she never mentioned it. She also knew what occurred down in the dankness of the dungeons, but she dare not mention that either.

“No ‘good morning’? No, ‘Yes my bath was divine’? Tell me, Hermione. Exactly how divine was your interlude with the imaginary potion’s master?” He looked at her through his long eyelashes as he straightened his napkin in his lap. “Oh yes, my dear, I heard every moan, thrust, and scream. As soon as I am finished with my breakfast, I will show you what it’s like to scream a man’s name in ecstasy.”

Hermione could do nothing but sit there, completely caught in her daydream about a man she could never have. A man she should never have. She silently continued to dismantle the food on the plate, never really tasting anything. She could only imagine what kind of horrors he had in store for her. She swallowed thickly and began to build her strength. It was going to be a long day.

It was the next morning when she awoke. The painted rays of sunshine were in the east of the window casting shadows on the wall opposite her bed. Hermione tried to move, but even a twitch of her finger made her moan. She tried to cry, but the salt of her tears burned her welted cheek. She tried to scream, but her voice was lost amongst a hoarse grumbling; her throat was raw from screaming last night.

She wanted to understand why this happened to her. She wanted to comprehend why she could never have the fairy tale ending she used to read about in the story books. Her mother would sit by the head of the bed and allow Hermione to curl up in the crook of her arm while they read about the young servant girl who won the heart of the prince. Hermione not only wished for that fantasy, but she wished for her mother. She could still smell her mother’s faint perfume sometimes. She would stand still wherever she was and sniff the air just to keep the pleasant scent longer. But it would fade. Just as Hermione’s freedom and hope faded the day she was married to Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione turned her head slightly to try to decipher the time of day. The sight before her startled her, unfortunately. Severus Snape was asleep, slumped over in a chair beside her bed. She slowly reached a hand out to him.

“Severus,” she mumbled, gently touching his arm.

The man in the dark robes stirred momentarily before opening his eyes. What he saw before him was gut wrenching. A pale frail form lying beneath a thin satin sheet. Her frame was delicate yet supple in the right places. Her gaunt features were bruised and scarred. Could he have done anything different? Was it perhaps his hint to Lucius that led to this torture? Severus felt something he had never felt before in his life…compassion.

“Mrs. Malfoy.”

“He isn’t around. Call me Hermione. Please.”

He nodded slightly and reached for a vial from his pocket. He slowly let the contents drip onto her lips and slide onto her tongue. Her pain eased almost immediately.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she closed her eyes to relax and let the potion take effect. “How long have you been here?”

“Hours. He asked me to watch over you while he was away.”

Her perplexed look prodded him to continue. “You will finally be able to rest, Hermione. Lucius will be gone for two months working for Fudge. I can only guess as to their intentions, but I can assure you it will not be good.”

Hermione nodded as best she could and tried to sit up.

“Don’t,” was the harsh reply to her actions. “You are not well enough to move about.”

“I have to prepare. I have two months to figure out how to get out of this mess. I have to get started.” She tried to sit up once more, but he placed a strong hand on her abdomen to prevent her from completing her task.

“Miss Granger, you of all people should understand that in order for a plan to work, you must have all the proper notations and documentations. You may dictate to me if you like, or I can purchase a Quick Notes Quill for you.”

She smiled at the mention of her maiden name and his slip of the tongue for saying it. It warmed her to recognize that Severus didn’t view her as an aristocratic matriarch, but rather still young and of her own mind.

“Very well. I need to find allies. People who will help me gather as much information as I can about Malfoy’s meetings, business deals, and whatever else that I can use against him.”

Severus nodded slightly. “I believe I know of a few. I can speak to them on your behalf. Test the waters in which they stand to see where their loyalties lie. I do know of one in particular that will help our cause. I will owl him this evening.”

“Good. Now, I know that in front of the purebloods it has to seem as if Lucius is in control at all times. But I need to have the ability to act and speak when I’m compelled to do so. I don‘t want to walk around under Imperio should he decide he wants me to.”

Severus stood and walked to the small table on the opposite side of the room. He withdrew a quill and some parchment. “Here.” He jotted some words and handed the piece of paper to Hermione. “Recite this to yourself at any moment when you feel he might use the curse on you. You will not be immune to the effects but you will be more likely to fight it off, given your training of it already.”

Hermione looked over the spell and saw the logic of it. She repeated the words softly. “Denego iubeo iussi iussum Lucius.” It had the opposite meaning of the Imperius curse, however, required a lot of her power to actually work. She accepted the consequences that it could entail, folded the scrap of paper, and placed it somewhere safe.

There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again. “Severus,” his insides seemed to rumble at her soft use of his name, “Thank you for everything you’re doing. I know we haven’t particularly been civil to one another, but I do appreciate anything you can do to help me. That spell alone was more than I could have wished for. To think of the things he could make me do.” She shivered involuntarily.

Severus noticed the twitch and felt compelled to make her more comfortable. He cast a warming charm on the duvet and stood to tuck the edges in around her body. His hands began at her feet gently lifting each leg to place the blanket underneath. Slowly, they made their way up her legs, to her thighs, to her hips, to her waist, and to her chest. It wasn’t until each hand was placed under each of her arms that he realized he was hovering over her provocatively. His eyes were caught by hers. His hair had tumbled into his face during his ministrations with the bed linens. Hermione reached up and tucked the stray lock behind his ear. She was sure to take her time doing so. She had to feel it. It wasn’t nearly as oily as it looked. It was actually rather soft and shiny. Her hand stopped against the side of his neck. The stubble that tickled her palm was proof that he had been there all this time watching over her. Before she realized what she was doing, Hermione moved her hand to the nape of his neck and pulled him down to her lips.

The kiss was tender and, yet, desperate. It was then Hermione realized that the man pressed against her had been lost to intimacy much like herself in recent months. This made her want him more. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down onto the bed completely. Severus held her in his arms tight as he tried not to crush her. She was still weak, after all, and vulnerable.

Yes, vulnerable. Maybe too vulnerable.

“No, I can’t…Hermione, I can’t,” he said as he raised himself from the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and took a long deep breath.

“Why not?”

He dared not turn to face her. He would only be swept back into her waiting, anxious, hungry arms again. “I have to protect you. Doing this would only complicate matters.”

“Everything seems complicated as it is, Severus.”

He cringed. He hated to do it, but he had to. There was no other way. “Perhaps we should forego the familiarities, Mrs. Malfoy.”

There was no reply for the longest stretch of time until a rather hard stuffed pillow smacked him squarely on the back of the head.

“Get out of my room, Mr. Snape.”