A Maid in the Devil's Manor

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 1 ~ An Offer from “The Bastard from Below”

Twenty-four year old Hermione Granger sat at her kitchen table, quill in hand and parchment spread before her. For maybe the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure what to put down on paper. She had graduated Hogwarts with honors eight years ago, gone through University and received her degree as a Spells Mistress. Afterwards, she landed an entry level job working for the Ministry in the Spells Department, developing defensive and detective spells for Aurors, the wizarding equivalent of muggle police, and had moved up in the ranks nicely in the past two years. She was making a decent salary, and had a nice flat in lower Hogsmeade.

Her love life however, wasn’t great. She had dated several wizards over the years, but the relationships fell through. They were too nice, too clingy, too dense or too something. The longest relationship she had lasted about eight months, with a wizard named Galen. It had ended on an ugly note when she caught her beau exiting a brothel while on a rare journey into Knockturn Alley to acquire some rather risqué potions ingredients. His argument was that Hermione made him feel inadequate in bed, and he needed to be with a woman that made him feel like a man. The fact was he was inadequate in bed as far as Hermione was concerned. He wasn’t demanding enough, or thorough enough for her. In the beginning, he was quite promising and took a little time with her. She thought she could improve him over time, teach him what she wanted. But as the relationship wore on and Galen got more comfortable, his idea of foreplay became a peck on the cheek and then fucking like a bunny. A very quick bunny. He was also rather prudish, not willing to do things to Hermione that she really wanted done. So not only was he weak in the hips, but non-existent with the lips.

Hermione’s initial attraction to Galen had been his intelligence. She soon found out his cerebral nature and his animal nature were entirely out of sync. She stuck with him as long as she did because she wanted it to work out, and thought maybe she could bring him around, or change him. A mistake many women make when they decide they can mold a man, rather than find the right man. So now she was alone, and had been for the past year.

Last week however, when she was in the apocathery store, picking up some supplies for a personal project she was working on, she bumped into a person she hadn’t seen in years. Literally. Her arms were full of packages and she was trying to leave the store, when she ran into someone. Someone quite solid. She peered over the bags and looked right into the deep black eyes of Professor Severus Snape. He hadn’t changed a bit.

“Watch where you’re going,” he had sniped at her, before his eyes widened in recognition, then narrowed in his trademark snarkiness.

“Well, well Miss Granger. I see the years have done nothing to improve your clumsiness,” he purred at her.

Hermione jostled the packages around so she could see him more clearly.

“It’s wonderful to see you too, Professor Snape,” she said sarcastically, “I see your sweet disposition hasn’t changed much either.”

The Professor had snorted. He peered into one of her bags.

“Potions ingredients?” he asked her, “I heard you had received your degree as a Spells Mistress.”

Hermione scowled at him slightly.

“Yes, but I minored in Potions. I am working on a private project and required these supplies in order to continue my experiments. Do you mind that?” she retorted.

“You blowing yourself up pursuing some asinine theory is not my concern, Miss Granger. Of course I do not mind,” he replied smoothly, smirking at her.

Ooh, he was still a snarky, greasy bastard.

“Well, my ‘asinine theory’ has some powerful implications, Professor. I am moving toward developing a combination of potions and spells that could protect a person from the Avada Kedavra Curse,” she replied huffily. Normally she would not disclose what she was working on, but the Professor always brought out this sick need in her to try to impress him. It rankled her that after eight years, she still had the urge to do this. He never was impressed.

But Severus’ eyes widened at this revelation. Hermione Granger had been an aggravating know-it-all, goody-two-shoes with a sneaky penchant for rule breaking, but the girl had never been a liar. And he had to admit, she was brilliant. Even in the last days of the Dark Lord, some of her early spells played a large part in defeating his forces, and opening him up to attack and final destruction by Harry Potter. Severus’ eyes swept over her consideringly.

“Where is your lab?” he asked her, interested now. If the witch really had made some breakthrough in creating a defense against the Killing Curse, it might well be worth looking into.

Hermione’s arms were starting to tremble. The packages were heavy. Severus noticed this and with a sigh took some of the packages out of her arms and set them on the floor. She would have probably stood there suffering until she dropped them rather than ask for assistance. She was still a stubborn chit. Now he could see her clearly.

Her bushy hair had lengthened, and now hung in manageable curls. She must have been ecstatic about that. She had looked like a bottlebrush for most of her time at Hogwarts. Her face had thinned too, the cheekbones now accentuated, and had lost her ‘little girl’ look. Her muggle clothing of jeans and a pullover sweater left little to the imagination. She had filled out in all the proper places. Her amber eyes were still wide and inquisitive. All in all, she had turned out to be a rather attractive young lady.

“Not that it is any of your business…” Hermione began a bit sharply.

Severus scowled at her. He was not used to being addressed in such a manner. His eyes hardened as he looked at the witch. Hermione could give two knuts how pissed he got.

“…but my private lab is in my flat.”

Severus considered this.

“And you find it adequate for the kind of dangerous and exacting work you are attempting to do?” he asked her.

Hermione shuffled her feet a little uncomfortably. Severus noticed this and already knew her lab was not all it could be.

“It’s what I have to work with,” she said, “and I utilize it to the best of my ability.”

“I see,” he said shortly, his eyes sweeping over her. He seemed to hesitate a moment.

“Perhaps you could use some assistance. Better facilities,” he said thoughtfully.

Hermione looked at the dark Potions Master. Was he offering to help her? Professor Snape was a marvel in the field of Potions. His assistance could help her find the defense against the Killing Curse much quicker. Even though Voldemort was dead, there were still instances of rogue deatheaters trying to continue in his footsteps, and utilizing the Unforgivable at every opportunity. Hermione was not yet at the level in the Ministry to pursue this particular endeavor. There were a lot of politics involved, and despite the wizarding community supposedly being less prejudiced than in earlier years, there was still some residual bigotry against muggle-borns. They rarely attained high positions in any Ministry Department.

Actually, Hermione was the best Spells Mistress the Ministry had. She was bright, and thought outside the box. But there were several other witches and wizards who had seniority, and were unwilling to let her show them up. When she had petitioned to work on finding a defense against the Killing Curse, she had practically been laughed out of the department head’s office. They were not going to waste Ministry resources on something that was impossible to attain.

Severus was aware of the narrow-mindedness of the Ministry, and immediately divined that Hermione was working on this project privately because she had been turned down when she attempted to use Ministry resources. It had to be an expensive project as well. He looked at the witch study him. No doubt remembering all the cruelties she had suffered at his hands as a student. Well, she needed to get over that. Somebody had to keep her in her place at Hogwarts, or she would have turned out to be another pompous chit, instead of the dedicated young woman she appeared to have become. Imagine, trying to develop a defense for the curse on her own, and making progress against the odds. He was impressed, though he wouldn’t say so in a thousand years.

Hermione studied the dour Potions Master.

“Are you offering me assistance, Professor?” she asked him.

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” said Severus, “I would have to see your research notes to determine if what you are doing is actually feasible. Great minds have been trying to tackle it for years, unsuccessfully. How do I know your head isn’t just swollen up with grand delusions of your own capabilities?”

Hermione’s petite five-foot-three frame visibly swelled with indignation. Severus smiled inwardly. She was a little spitfire still. It was good working in the Ministry hadn’t cowed her spirit. She sputtered for a moment, so angry she couldn’t put her words together.

“I’ll have you know, Professor, that I have checked and rechecked my research numerous times to insure that it is solid. And I assure you, sir, it is as solid as the stone that’s wrapped around your black heart!” Hermione shot at him as she attempted to pick up the packages he had placed on the floor, unsuccessfully because of the ones she already held. Severus watched her in amusement.

“My stony black heart notwithstanding,” he said, bending and picking up the packages, and resettling them into the irate witch’s arms, “I am willing to read over your research, and if I find it as solid as you say, maybe offer some assistance. I have several potions laboratories at Snape Manor, as well as endless resources. I am rarely there, since I reside at Hogwarts for the majority of the year, and the labs are for the most part lying fallow.”

He stared at the witch for a moment. Hermione was still trying to calm herself, her breasts heaving with the effort as she listened to his proposition.

“If you can put your dislike of me aside, and think about this opportunity rationally…you might actually accomplish something worthwhile on your own, instead of as the hired dupe of our illustrious Ministry. Think about it, Miss Granger and owl me if you decide you would like me to peruse your research. Good day,” Severus said, sweeping past her and disappearing into the shop’s depths without another word.

So now, after several weeks of struggling with the project, she admitted to herself she needed better facilities, and she couldn’t afford to purchase all the equipment she needed to continue her research and development. She had decided to ask Professor Snape to look at her research. If he found that it was worthy of further exploration, he would become for all intents and purposes, her patron.

Professor Severus Snape as her patron? Good gods. She could imagine the horror on Harry’s and Ron’s faces as she told them the ‘bastard from below’ was helping her out and had opened his home and his labs to her. They would say she was stark, raving nutters to accept any help from him. True, Severus was a hero in the destruction of the Dark Lord, and had suffered much to free the wizarding world from his influence, but he was still a dark, brooding, somber pariah, who they didn’t fully trust. Hermione had never shared their view of Severus to that extreme, but she did consider him a cruel, heartless son-of-a-bitch. She was sure his offer to be her patron had more to do with sharing credit in the discovery, than any goodness of heart. But receiving partial credit would be only fair.

Hermione’s quill hesitated over the parchment. She felt a bit as if she were giving in. But the research was too important, too promising to just let die because she couldn’t afford to continue. As Snape said, he had labs in his manor that were doing nothing but gathering dust. It was a waste. She stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth, leaned over the parchment and started writing.

Dear Professor Snape,

After much consideration, I’ve decided to ask you to take a look at my research on creating a defense against the Killing curse, and if you find it worthy of continued exploration, to accept your offer of the use of the laboratories available at Snape Manor. I would like to arrange a convenient time and place to show you the research I have compiled thus far. As you know I work for the Ministry during the week, and a weekend would be the best time to meet. Please contact me at your earliest convenience if your offer still stands.

Sincerely,

Miss Hermione Granger

Hermione reread the parchment and was satisfied that she didn’t sound as if she were groveling or begging him for his assistance. She didn’t feel completely comfortable with this. It felt a little like making a deal with the devil. If he did agree to let her use his premises, she would want the details of the arrangement in writing. That way, the situation would be clear.

She rolled up the parchment, and sealed it with a bit of wax. She would send it to Hogwarts by owl post in the morning, and wait to see how the Potions Master responded. She set the parchment on her desk, yawned, stretched and walked slowly to her bedroom. It had been a long day today. She had once again been passed up for an open higher position in the Spells department, the job going to a pureblood that had been hired after her. She put on a brave face, but she was very disappointed. Well, if she managed to develop this defense…she wouldn’t have to worry about the Ministry any longer. She could write her own ticket and work anywhere, or even for herself.

She divestoed her clothing and fell on the bed. She lay there a while, listening to the silence, before rolling over and sliding under the covers. She looked at her bed, and sighed. It was a king-sized four-poster. She had purchased it when it looked like her relationship with Galen was going someplace. Now it was empty, lonely and just too big for her. She hadn’t had a man in it for over a year. Fingers were a sorry substitute for a good, strong cock. But fingers were all she had, so…

She closed her eyes and imagined her ideal lover. She managed to do this quite well, but he never had a face, or spoke. He was tall, lean, shadowed and rather menacing, but he could do things to her body that he should go to Azkaban for. He would stride to her bedside and look down at her for several moments, before falling on her and having his way.

Hermione worked at herself desperately, arching her back and perspiring, finally bringing herself to a whimpering climax. She lay there gasping, her amber eyes staring at the ceiling. She hoped she wouldn’t spend the rest of her days like this, dreaming of someone she would never, ever meet.

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A/N: Yep. Another story completely unconnected with the universe of WWIT. This time Hermione isn’t lusting for Severus (yet), nor is Severus lusting for Hermione (consciously) and she will be dealing with the Potions Master on his own turf, at Snape Manor rather than Hogwarts. I figure it will be a while before any actual lemons occur…but will probably sneak in a couple of teasing dream sequences to start the ball rolling, so to speak. I think this will be a long one, and once again, I have no idea where it is going…but it will get there. Thanks Please review.