Hermione startled awake, the breath knocked out of her by what she soon realized was the Professor's dragonhide boot.

"Get up," he told her in a bored voice. "You've slept long enough."

She hurried to her feet, rubbing her side where he had kicked her. He had actually kicked her. He'd never done that before. So, why was he starting now?

"Come," he said, sweeping into the other room.

She dragged herself after him, blinking in confusion, the fuzzy blur of sleep still melting away. It was as if he were afraid that she'd forgotten her place; afraid for her to think he was being too nice. There was a new threat now, after all, if the Dark Lord was asking to peer into her mind. Maybe she was being naive, but it pricked that suspicion she'd nurtured for so long: that the Professor was playing a part.

When she reached the doorway he shot her an impatient scowl and retraced his steps, snatching up her wrist in a biting grip and yanking her into the living room where he seated himself on the couch and threw her down onto the ground before him.

Shock and confusion coursed through her veins as she pulled herself up onto her knees facing her professor. He was wearing just shirt-sleeves with his usual trousers, and his legs were spread wide. "Come here," he drawled in a dangerous tone. Hesitantly, she scooted forward until his knees were on either side of her. They were so close. And yet every nerve within her wanted to move closer still, until they touched. "Lean forward," he told her, positioning his elbows on his knees. She did so hesitantly, nearly jerking back when he took her face in his hands. And then they were only a few inches apart. She was close enough to see the weariness in his face and the worry lines etched between his eyes.

Having just woken up, he had taken her off guard. She only understood what he was doing as their eyes connected. But it was too late. Even as the thought occurred to her that she shouldn't meet his gaze, those dark pupils became all that she could see.

"No..." She whimpered, struggling against his grip.

His amused chuckle echoed in her mind. Do you think you can resist me?

She slumped, knowing she didn't have a chance. And then her world dissolved in thought and she was no longer sitting on the floor in front of her professor. She was standing in a grand study where tables were littered with books and parchments and the Dark Lord stood before her. She remembered, in detail, the impression she'd had of him, as if she were living it all over again. There had been something both disappointing and more terrifying than she could have expected about seeing him up close for the first time. And she had felt irrationally betrayed that the Professor would leave her alone with him.

He seemed amused by that, but there was another emotion beneath that blatant one that was much more difficult to name, and darker. Before she could reflect too deeply on that, however, the Dark Lord of her memory delved into her mind. She cringed and tried to pull away, but it was no use now. He was going to see everything.

And he did. The questions about the Order, her hopelessness, her fears, her memories of the two of them together in his bed and how she'd wanted nothing more than to pull him closer and writhe against his skin. She remembered Lord Voldemort's suspicion and the memories of hers which had assuaged his doubts. She remembered her concerns about the unnatural desire she'd developed for the Professor. And just how much she wanted to feel him against her again.

He pulled away from her and the visions dissipated until they were staring again into one another's eyes. He was quick to hide the alarm in his own, but she saw it just the same. Her heart was pounding hard in her chest and she was somehow out of breath. Her gut twisted with shame for him to see what he had seen; for him to know. And for a moment, he was not her captor and she was not his slave. He was Professor Snape, the Potions master and she was his student, caught misbehaving in the most embarrassing way. She nearly expected a reprimand, as if he might lecture her on the foolishness of her silly schoolgirl crush. But that was ridiculous, of course. Everything was different now.

Instead, her professor stared down at her, considering her as his eyes flickered through the possibilities. Then he seemed to make up his mind and his lips parted and his eyes visibly darkened. She could feel her heart throbbing, wanting him to play his part again, needing him to do what she would expect him to do if he really was the man he needed her to believe he was.

He caught her chin in a rough grip and studied her with cold, black eyes, his mouth ajar. "Want me, do you?" he asked in a deceptively gentle voice. It sent a shiver down her spine. He brushed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. "Perhaps you can put that desire of yours to use." His words set a fire ablaze in her belly and her throat went dry. A distant part of her was ashamed of her own response, but an increasingly dominant part of her wanted to give herself up to that desire.

Slowly, hesitantly, almost as if he were reluctant to do so, the Professor leaned back against the couch. "Come," he told her in a low voice, gesturing for her to climb into his lap. Hermione's eyes went wide and her breath grew shallow as she rose to her feet in a slow, uncertain motion. Then she lifted one leg over his and settled her knee into the cushions of the couch. The other followed smoothly after and in an instant, she was pressed against him.

Neither of them seemed to know what to do, but Hermione's body burned with sudden desire and she gave herself over to it, letting her instincts inform her. Slowly, cautiously, tenderly she brushed her lips against his own parted, surprised ones. And he returned the gesture. Their mouths moved hesitantly against each other, growing bolder as they lost themselves to the sensation. Feeling brave, she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and suckled the tender flesh as his hands began slowly to run up and down her sides. Her own hands found their way into his hair, diving through the thick, greasy strands with a sort of reverence.

She knew this was wrong, but she couldn't keep herself from feeling this way. All she wanted was to feel his skin on her skin, to let her world dissolve away and shrink down to the simple goal of bringing him pleasure and feeling it in return. It was a goal she could accomplish. It was something she could do. Amidst all this helplessness, this was one place where she had power.

Hermione let her tongue dart out and was surprised when he responded in kind, their tongues brushing against one another in a way that felt forbidden and obscene. A short grunt of desire escaped from deep in his throat and she found herself rocking against his lap, clenching fistfuls of his hair in her hands. She whimpered into his mouth as his hands explored her body, cupping her breasts before snaking beneath her robes to grip her thighs. In a sort of clumsy desperation, he began pulling off the clothes he'd given her to wear until she was naked on top of him, panting as she rubbed herself eagerly against the front of his trousers.

His eyes were wide with shock and perhaps a little hesitation, but she could feel the hard length of his cock buttoned away. Emboldened, she took his hands in her own and pressed them against her naked breasts, delighting in the way his eyes fell closed and his head fell back against the couch. She seized the opportunity to unbutton his shirt, exposing his pale chest sprinkled with fine black hairs. And then she met his lips again and pressed her breasts against him so that there was nothing between her hot skin and his.

Her professor buried one of his hands in her hair and snaked the other between their naked torsos, down down down until she was gasping with surprise and embarrassment as his fingers dipped between her legs, plunging past her damp curls to find the slick heat of her core. And then she was gasping with pleasure as he growled with approval. "So wet!" he hissed, pushing a finger inside of her.

She let out a harsh groan as he fondled her in just the right way. "Because I want you," she confessed in a husky voice that surprised even herself. As if to prove it, her fingers flew to the buttons of his trousers. She began to undo them, but he pushed her hands away only to unbutton them himself much faster. Then he pulled his trousers down just far enough to let his cock spring free. He took himself in hand as she lifted herself into position and took him inside of herself in one eager movement. He gasped and she whimpered at the feeling of their bodies connecting in just the right way. And then she met his mouth again as she rocked anxiously against him. His hands trailed up and down her back, cupping her arse, squeezing her waist, grabbing her hips to direct her movements.

He filled her so completely, and he felt so good. There was still a little pain this time, but it was dulled until it was a sort of pleasure. And she found that the harder she rocked against him, the sharper that pleasure was, until she was bucking against his lap, her hands gripping his shoulders, the nails digging into his skin.

Then he was pushing her over and following her down onto the couch, thrusting against her harder and harder as his hot breath poured into her hair. She pulled her knees up to her chest and, as if by some instinct, slipped one hand between their bodies to stoke the growing fire in her core. It was like striking a match. Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes, giving herself over to the sensation as her professor fucked her hard atop his couch. The spark caught and ignited and suddenly pleasure was coursing through her, erupting in hot waves that rippled all the way down her arms and legs to tingle in the tips of her fingers and toes and she cried out in wanton abandon, not caring about anything other than this exquisite ecstasy.

"Oh fuck," her professor gasped and then he too was coming, jerking against her erratically, an expression of ecstatic pleasure plastered across his face. He couldn't suppress a harsh groan as he froze above her, pressing hard against her as he poured his hot seed deep inside her. And then he collapsed on top of her as they panted in the still air of the dungeons.

Hermione had never felt anything like it and she was so transported that she wrapped her arms around the man and held him tight as tears escaped from the corners of her eyes.

For a long moment, they laid there panting until their breath evened out and the heat left Hermione's skin. She could feel the chill of cold sweat now, everywhere she wasn't touching him. But then he lifted himself up, giving her only the briefest of glances, a scowl twisting his face. And then he was pulling his clothes back on, leaving her naked and cold on his couch. A flush of shame blossomed in her cheeks as she covered herself with her arms and she had that impression again, of being his student and not his slave.

"Professor…" she began, not knowing what to say, but needing to say something to draw him back and stop him from leaving her this way.

"I'm not your professor," he snapped in an angry voice. And then he swept into the bedroom, still buttoning his shirt.

She sat there stunned a moment before pulling herself to her feet and gathering her clothes together. Her professor reemerged from his bedroom fully dressed, teaching robes and all. His eyes flitted only briefly to her still-naked form. Then he stalked across the room, threw open the door to the corridor, and was gone.

Shame was throbbing inside of her with every heartbeat as she carried her clothes to the bathroom and threw them on the ground. She started the tap and stepped beneath the torrent of water, scalding hot, as if she could burn her shame away. The water beat against her skin, hard and unforgiving, and her voice broke on a sob.

Either her professor hated her for putting him in this position, or he really was the Death Eater she'd thought he was pretending to be.

…*~*J*~*...

AN: Thank you all so much for your continued support! I'm sorry I haven't written much lately. I'm just going through a lot, trying to decide what to do with my life, trying to get out of my backwards hometown. But your comments have really helped remind me that I have a project in the works and that I'm not just writing for myself. So thank you so much for that. I was going to update my marriage law fic first, but I just kept getting reviews and messages about this one, so I figured I'd better give the people what they want. I hope you will continue to tell me what you think and I hope my story will continue to satisfy you.

:} llorolalluvia