Inside the Blackest Heart (Edit, Not Update)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 8 ~ Arriving for Detention

Hermione walked through the dungeon corridor, her belly knotted with fear and desire. Part of her wanted to run back to the safety of Gryffindor tower, but she had the feeling he would come and seek her out. Plus, there was a part of her that didn’t want to run, that didn’t want him to see her run. Didn’t want him to think she was a coward. Shit, even now she wanted his approval. Something he had never given her.

Hermione stopped in front of the Potions classroom. He was waiting for her on the other side of the door. She steeled herself and knocked.

There was no answer.

She knocked again. Still, no answer. Unsure of what to do, she stood there for a minute. Where was he? Hesitantly she tried the door. It clicked and opened. She walked into the classroom. The Professor was not at his desk. This was odd. She closed the classroom door and walked into the classroom a bit further. No, he definitely was not in here. She noticed his office door was open.

“Professor?” she called.

No answer.

She walked to the Potions office and peeked inside. It too was empty. She walked in and looked around. Ghastly things in jars gazed back at her sightlessly. His office was so morbid. Dead things everywhere. She was about to leave, when she saw the bookcase was twisted into the room at an odd angle. She walked over to investigate, and saw it was an opening to another room.

“Professor?” she called.

Still no answer. What was going on? She was certain he’d be waiting for her. She entered the room. It was a huge study, with books lining the wall ceiling to floor. There was a fireplace, two armchairs, a couch, a desk and a writing table. There was a sliding sound behind her. Hermione turned quickly, just in time to see the entrance close and seal itself flush to the wall. She ran over to it, trying to find a handle, but there was none.

“Planning on going somewhere, Miss Granger?” a silky voice asked.

“Professor?”

A tall, lean form rose from one of the armchairs, turned and walked toward her slowly. It was the Professor. He had been sitting there in the armchair, listening to her call him the whole time, waiting for her to wander into his study.

He walked up to Hermione, stopping inches away. He was dressed in his teacher’s robes. His black eyes raked over her speculatively. Hermione’s heart began to pound even as the yearning ache between her legs began to grow. He hadn’t even touched her yet.

He walked around her slowly, watching her reaction to his proximity.

“What do you expect from me, Miss Granger? Gentleness? Kindness?” he asked her.

Hermione at first didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected him to ask her any questions.

“No,” she replied, “You’ve never shown an inclination to either before,” she said.

He leaned over so his warm breath wafted across his ear.

“Good that you realize that, my little witch. I have neither of those qualities,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. Hermione felt herself getting wet.

He walked back around her, stopping in front of her, this time standing very close, intruding on her personal space.

“Miss Granger, you have lived a charmed life ever since you arrived at Hogwarts. You have been coddled, manipulated and used by your friends, and your teachers. Your future has already been planned for you. Your mind is a great treasure, formidable, powerful. You will be a pawn in this miserable war like I am. But you will not have my freedom. You will be chained to the ideals of your manipulators, like a puppy,” Snape said, sneering at her.

“This war isn’t about good and evil, Miss Granger. It’s about power and the manipulation of it. Dumbledore uses everyone, just like Voldemort, except he bends them to his will under the guise of a kindly old headmaster. You’ve been bent to the wheel without your conscious knowledge. Your whole life in the magical world has been one long march to servitude. Once you are in, the Order will never let you go, Miss Granger. Dumbledore will never let you go. Your mind is too valuable. If you try to leave, you’ll find yourself in great trouble. If you don’t believe me, when you leave here, test it. Disagree with one of Albus’ many plans for you,” the Professor said, placing a long finger under her chin and raising her face to his.

“Tonight will be your first honest experience at Hogwarts, I assure you,” he said silkily, his eyes darkening as he looked at her, his lust starting to show clearly.

Suddenly Snape grabbed her hand and pressed it hard against his erection. Hermione gasped and tried to draw her hand back, but he wouldn’t let her. She began to struggle.

“You came here for this, Miss Granger. Stop struggling. It excites me in a way that you won’t find pleasing,” he hissed. But Hermione wasn’t listening.

She pushed his chest hard with her other hand and the Potions Master reacted violently, turning her and wrapping his arm around her throat, pulling her back against him and choking her, cutting off her air until she ceased struggling. All the while he ground his cock against her. She slumped against him and he loosened his hold, but still kept his arm around her throat. He leaned down against her ear.

“I am not a nice wizard, Miss Granger. I do not take kindly to being pushed or disobeyed and will retaliate. I don’t care if you are witch or wizard. Touching my cock through my robes is nothing compared to what you will do tonight,” he said, bringing his other hand up to her breast and fondling it roughly through her robes.

“As of now, you belong to me…every part of you, every inch of flesh, every breath you take, and you will do what I tell you to do, or I guarantee I will make this even more painful for you than I originally planned. Do we understand each other, Miss Granger?” he whispered.

Hermione nodded. She was crazy to have come here to this wizard.

“Having regrets?” Snape asked her. She shook her head, and he tightened his grip on her throat, still fondling her breast.

“Don’t…lie….to…me,” he growled, choking her a bit before letting her loose again. She gasped.

“I’ll ask you again. Having regrets?” he said softly.

This time Hermione nodded.

“Good,” he purred, “Honesty is rare, Miss Granger. I have a strong appreciation for it. You will answer me honestly tonight. Whatever I ask you.”

He took his arm away from her throat and turned her around to face him, pressing his body against hers, before pulling away a little, recapturing her hand and pressing it again to his erection. This time she didn’t try to move it.

“Squeeze it,” he hissed at her.

Hermione complied and he groaned. His cock was hard, but seemed delicate. This was what he was going to use on her. She shuddered, feeling a stab of desire despite herself. Snape felt it and again raised her face to him.

“You’re excited aren’t you? Remember. The truth,” he said, his black eyes hard as he looked down at her.

She nodded.

“Talk!” he spat.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Yes, what?” he asked her, his eyes glittering

“Yes, I’m excited,” she responded, lowering her eyes in shame. The Potions Master let out a shudder himself.

“I love virgins,” he said, “always so ashamed that they want to be fucked.”

“It’s not that,” Hermione mumbled, her hand still on his cock.

“What? Speak up, Miss Granger,” the Potions Master said.

“I said it’s not that I’m ashamed I want to be fucked,” she said louder.

The Professor raised an eyebrow.

“Really? So what is it then, Miss Granger?” he asked her.

She looked up at Snape, meeting his eyes.

“I’m ashamed that I want to be fucked by you,” she replied.

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A/N: Shit Hermione! Damn. How will he react to that? Please review