Heeeeeeeeey.
Summer school sucks. I know that I don't want to take these courses in the school year, and getting them out of the way now is awesome, but does American Government and P.E. HAVE to be required classes!? NO. They're both terrible. Terribly easy, I must admit, but terrible to sit through. But alas, my public humiliation of sucking at sports ended long ago, which would have led me to continue my story.
But then the Seventh Harry Potter book came out.
Then I had to read that and all, but I now have to claim this story as AU and also that it takes place BETWEEN the sixth and seventh book.
Now that we've gotten that cleared up…
Before I could chance a look at him, Snape grabbed my arm roughly, shoving me upward from the ground. My breath hissed as I inhaled deeply. He had yanked on the arm I had just landed so gracelessly on. I must say I did a pretty good job of ignoring the pain from then on; I had worse to worry about.
He dragged me with him through the gigantic doors through which I was pushed minutes earlier. He turned a sharp left as soon as we exited the room, taking me down the long hallway I had started in. I got a better look at my surroundings now. The building really was beautiful, castlelike, even; but mainly because of all the stone. I could tell by the dampness clinging to the walls that the place was underground. Does Voldemort always have to have his places make you feel like you're living in a dungeon? But the hallway itself was dark, dank, and gave off that eerie glow that told you that you definitely were not in Kansas anymore.
I was hoping I would experience that lovely commonplace scenario in which you feel like mere minutes feel like hours. That would have been helpful, since I was panicking so badly. Some time to my own psyche would have been great; I could ponder my life and all, wondering if I fully lived my life, and thinking of some elaborate plan to escape.
But no. Instead, it was the exact opposite. It seemed like I had no time to even remember a defensive spell before he stopped me at a door. He swirled his wand, and I heard a little click. He opened the door and shoved me in, closing and locking the door behind him.
Needless to say, by now I was fully freaked. My situation hadn't gotten better at all; I only swapped one rapist for another. But then again, this one wasn't going to kill me.
But Lucius said he didn't want to kill me, either…
I shuddered. Neither alternative seemed to be in my favor. Well, neither of them were.
As soon as I had been thrown inside, he released my hold to padlock spell after spell on his door. Once I had been fully enclosed and locked in, he turned around. It's nothing to be proud of, but I acted instinctively when he let go of my arm. I had slunk to the opposite side of the room, as farthest away from him as physically possible. I expected him to retrieve me, upbraid me for attempting to flee, even when it was pretty obvious I wasn't going anywhere.
Instead he gave me that arrogant glare that I always received from him; that haughty look that always belittled and berated my self-esteem. I actually jumped when he spoke.
"Well, don't just sit there and cower; you look like a ruddy mouse."
It's terribly embarrassing, but I was. I really was. I had resulted to the childish attempt of clinging to his bedpost, trying to wedge myself between the headboard and his wall. It was my first impulse, impish though it was. I didn't reply.
"I was never able to shut you up before, and now you've suddenly lost your ability to speak?"
Don't talk about Hogwarts…don't…
"And stop staring. It'll get you nowhere."
He was getting irritated, that I could see. But his actions were confusing me.
"Surely you have something to say; I know you child, and you don't sit silently with ease," his gaze was icy; I hated that about him, how he was always so demeaning.
"You never could."
Don't you dare assume to know me…
"Well?"
"I have…nothing to say to you." I said little over a whisper.
"Liar." He said quickly. I jumped. I never knew I'd ever be this afraid of him, but sheesh, when you're put in this kind of situation…
"You're cowering again. Why must you wear that ignorant excuse of self defense; you act as if I'm going to beat you sensless."
My neck inched sideways, as if moving it would help me to get a better look at him.
"I…don't understand…"
"Come now, Granger, I thought you were the smart one." He rolled his eyes and walked casually to his desk, which was on the wall perpendicular to mine. I didn't look at what was on it, just that he was temporarily occupied. I reached for my wand; it wasn't there.
Damnit…
How the hell had he taken my wand? But, the more I thought about it, I didn't remember having it even when Lucius had me. Then again, I hadn't checked. I was in too much of a dither to do so. But Snape was looking for a reply. I stuttered vaguely as my hands flew from pocket to pocket, looking for that damned wand.
"I…I…"
"I have your wand, Granger." Snape said simply.
I huffed loudly, but immediately regretted doing so. As soon as I had, my hand was over my mouth. It was if it had been magnetically put there. I cleared my throat; now wasn't the time to get an attitude with my captor.
"What was that?" he said lightly.
"I don't understand," I said more clearly, trying to make sure he didn't hear my trickle of defiance.
"And now you're repeating yourself."
"But you—you just…"
"Just what?" he eyed me suspiciously, as if I was supposed to understand every little thing that went through his evil mind.
"You…took me."
I couldn't find any other way to put it, but it was true.
"That depends on the definition of the word," he said with another flick of his wand. Something happened, but I wasn't paying attention. "I haven't 'taken' you at all."
"But aren't you—going to?" I whispered, inching closer inside my hiding spot between the headboard and the wall.
"Did you think I was going to willingly let one of my students get raped and killed right under my nose?"
"I am NOT your student."
I said it before I could stop myself. My hand was tempted to cover my mouth again, but I clung to the bedpost instead.
"What, then? Did you honestly think that I was going to--" he stopped. His eyes quickly fled from my person, as if I had attempted to change my clothes in front of him.
"Well then," he said quietly, looking avidly at the wall opposite me, "That explains a lot."
His eyes rolled to the ceiling, and he turned his back to me, fiddling with the objects on his desk. He sat down in the chair next to it, doing who knows what with the things that laid on it. There was an entire potions set on there, now that I got a better chance to look. The more I looked at it, the more I saw. Actually, his desk was more like a table. Bottle after bottle after after potion; powders and bags vials and and stones and ingredients I'd never seen before littered the landing. It was surprisingly neat, with his cauldron sitting oh so gracefully next to the desk like a trash can would. Only a great deal larger, of course.
As you could see, if my attention span had been expired to the point where I was comparing his cauldron to a garbage dispenser, he had obviously stayed silent for quite some time. He spoke before I could examine the room further.
"Well Granger, you'll be happy to know that I have no intention of killing you."
My fear returned, viciously wrapping my throat in its tight vice.
"That…wasn't exactly my first concern." I said softly daring to look him in the face.
His eyebrows rose, but he continued. He looked me up and down with such speed that I thought he had blinked,
"Your…virtue is perfectly safe, as well." He said, looking away with his lips pursed, as if he was trying to refrain himself from saying something he shouldn't. My eyes may have been playing tricks on me, but I could have sworn I saw a change in the color of his cheeks…
"You mean you're not going to…"
"Of course not." He turned back to me, his expression under complete control again.
"But…why?" I stammered, slowly regaining my voice, "What was all that even for then?"
"I don't know if you fully understand your other alternative, Granger," he said seriously. Too seriously.
"But I don't…"
"Don't what? Understand?" his snide attitude had returned as soon as it had left. "I think Lucius pretty much spelled it out for you. Go to his quarters, and see if you understand his point then."
"Don't mock me, Snape!" I fumed, completely forgetting why I had lost my power to speak. My temper rose, and I could feel my knuckles tighten against the wooden bedpost it clung to.
"I know what he was after, I just don't get why you'd go to all this trouble to save me from...from…" I trailed off with a choke, my cheeks suddenly aflame with a deep crimson.
"…that."
And as quickly as my voice came, it was gone again. I couldn't bare to say it out loud. And who would? Who would want to talk about how someone wanted you…sexually? Someone who was willing and ready to not only rape you, but keep you. Keep you as theirs so that they may do to you as they please when they please. It confused and embarrassed me beyond my own understanding. The idea alone I hate to put into words. Saying it to a fresh captor who continued to treat me like a child was far from possible. So I had summed it up in one word: "That".
He spoke again. I didn't interrupt.
"Whether you like it or not, you are one of my students, always will be, whether I teach at Hogwarts any longer or not. I've taught you for six years now; growing up won't change that."
At first I was confused, wondering why in the world he had said it. But then I remembered my previous attack on words: that I wasn't his student anymore. He went on.
"You're also a member of the order--"
"Why the bloody hell would you care about the order?" I burst out, my discretion gone. "You never cared about anyone because you're a filthy, sneaky, lying…"
"Traitor?" he said calmly.
"YES!" I yelled without restraint.
He sighed complacently, rolling his eyes again. He looked exasperated with me. He put his index finger and thumb to his forehead, letting them spread apart as he thought of the best way to say his next statement.
"You don't know, Granger…"
"What's there to know?" I said, fuming, "Let's see; first off, you killed Dumbledore--"
"Silence, girl. Do not talk of things that are too complicated for you to understand."
"Complicated?!" I screeched, "He did everything for you, he'd never hurt you like you did him, and he helped you when you needed it, and…"
"Watch your tongue, child," he glared at me coldly, letting some of his black hair fall into his pale face, "Don't test me."
But I didn't listen. I just went on. I didn't even notice him rise from his chair.
"You didn't even deserve it; you only took advantage of him, lied to him, betrayed him…"
"I said silence, girl!"
But I didn't listen. I was furious, mad, and I could feel the tears clinging to the corners of my eyes. They were about to fall, ready to fall…
"HE TRUSTED YOU," I screamed, the tears freefalling down my face, "We all trusted you! He gave you everything and you treated him like--"
He was out of his chair, across the room, and right in front of me before I could blink. He grabbed my arm, yanked me from my hiding place, and took hold of my other arm in his other hand. With a jerk he pushed me violently against the wall I had been wedged against. My back thumped against it loudly, causing my head to throw back and bang against the hard surface. I could scarcely focus from the shock before I was looking into two pools of pitch black. I couldn't scream, I couldn't cry, I just cowered, whimpered, more frightened than I had ever been in my life.
"I said not to speak of it, do you hear me?" he said, his voice racked with fury. It was no louder than a whisper, but to me it was the same as if he had blown a trumpet in my ear, then beat me over the head with it.
His eyes were dark. So dark. I couldn't concentrate beneath him, his gaze, that fierce, angry, furious gaze.
Stop it…stop…
There was too much pain in those glassy orbs. I could hardly bear to look at them, but I couldn't stop. His eyes looked like his soul had been tortured by death itself. I couldn't look at them any longer. Not when he was looking at me like that.
"Please…" I whimpered, all dignity gone, "please stop…" the tears continued their downpour as I was finally able to look away. My neck craned to avert him, but he was just so close…
Before I could catch my shaky breath, I felt his weight lift from me. The second his vicelike hands released my arms I crumpled to the ground, curling my legs into me as I leaned all my weight against the wall. It was as if I hoped to dissolve into it, away from here, away from him, but I didn't.
He withdrew from me, his own breath shaking as violently as mine. He stared at his hands as if I had burned them. I looked at him fearfully, and he looked back at me, the former look in his eye gone. What I now saw was overflowing remorse which coincided with that burning sensation that made it look like I had physically scarred his skin.
"I'm…" now he was stuttering, "I'm sorry, Miss Granger." He looked away from my face, but looked to the spot on the wall next to me.
"It won't happen again," I heard him say quickly.
But I wasn't looking at him. I couldn't. It was too hard.
I was shaking. I had been for some time now. My hand covered my mouth again, in a futile effort to try and steady my movements. I looked him in the eye again, and immediately regretted it when he stooped down to me. He wasn't too close this time, but close enough to show the concern that his eyes had been screaming.
He put his hand on my shoulder, grasping it firmly. He took his other hand and removed my own from my mouth, which had now become a drainage system for my tears. I sniffed loudly.
"It won't happen again," he said calmly, "I'm not going to hurt you. That isn't why I brought you here."
I didn't believe him, and he knew it. I clenched my teeth together to try and restrain myself from crying further.
"You're going to have to trust me, Granger."
The look I gave him was just as fearful as the last one.
"I can't tell you certain things right now," his eyes were dark, and my own tried to hide from them, "but you need to understand that I am on your side."
I didn't even have the strength to give a skeptical "humph" in his direction. I just looked away, blinking dumbly. He rose from his perch at my side, releasing my hand and shoulder.
"Don't overanalyze it." He said solemnly, his voice now back to normal.
And with a sweep of his batlike cloak, he left me to collect myself. With a swish of his wand his door unlocked, he glided silently through it, and without a second glance at me, closed and locked it behind him.
As soon as the door gave its final 'click', the tears erupted from my eyes once more. I buckled into my legs, allowing my knees to support my head. I wanted to go home, to get away from here, to run away, to be anywhere, anywhere but here…
I didn't care what he said to me. It didn't matter whether I believed his intentions were good or not. Whether he was good or not. It was still a prison, and there was nothing he could say to change that.
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