Disclaimer: I in no way own these characters. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

This will be a dark story, with rape and torture, although it will not be this way throughout. Please do not read if you find these subjects affect you in any way. For those who do not like a bad Snape, I would ask that you give this a chance. There is more going on than first appears.

I apologise for any grammar or spelling mistakes. This is my first story and I have no Beta. I'd apprectiate any reviews so I know how I am doing. Any critique and advice is welcomed.

Hermione woke with a scream as rough hands shook her awake. Realising suddenly where she was and who was looming above her she scrambled back until she was pressed up against the wall. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, as if to dislodge the memories of the previous few days, but they wouldn't leave her. Trapped in the corner, she waited for those cool hands to grab her again, to force her down and….

A few moments later she became aware that she hadn't been touched. She opened her eyes and looked up to see him standing in the same place he had woken her up from, having only unbent himself to stand up straight and pull his robes tightly around him.

Cold, dark eyes observed her dispassionately for a moment before he snapped, "This will be the first and last time I will wake you. You will be ready at 6.30 every morning when I unlock your door. Failure to be ready will result in….punishment." He curled his lip. "Failure to comply with any order will result in the same."

He flung a previously un-noticed grey dress at her and snarled, "Put it on." With a flush of colour, Hermione realised she was naked and had left the thin blanket she had huddled under for sleep behind further down the bed. She quickly tried to pull the dress over her head while covering herself from the eyes that watched her shame without mercy.

"Don't bother," he drawled, "It's not like I've not seen it before." She cringed and looked away. She couldn't think about that right now. The events of the last few days seemed hazy, as if she was viewing them through a thick fog. Maybe that was for the best at the moment. She had to focus on getting out of her current situation, and the horrors she had experienced would only slow her down if she let herself think about them.

She dared to flick her eyes up at him. His face was unreadable in the gloom of the windowless room, but there was no trace of the leer she had expected to see accompanying his words. She swallowed and finished pulling the dress down quickly over her legs.

The dress barely came down to her knees, and the thin material did very little to dispel the bone-deep chill she felt. The fabric was old and worn, but clean, and considering the last few days, afforded her more dignity than she had expected.

"Move," he said, and Hermione quickly scuttled away from the bed, only for him to grab her by the hair, pulling on it roughly, as he snarled, "On your knees." She dropped immediately, unwilling, for now, to risk any punishment or…. She shied away from the thought.

From her position on the floor she glared up at him, unwilling to submit herself completely to him. He scowled down at her, a look so full of hate she was soon forced to lower her gaze.

"Since I have been burdened with your irritating presence, I will have to make the most of it. You will be waiting for me, on…. your…. knees at 6.30 every morning. There will be many tasks for you to perform each day, preparing my meals, cleaning these rooms and whatever else takes my fancy. You will not touch, move, or open anything except to fulfil your duties. You will never enter my study, or leave these rooms without express permission. You will speak only when asked a direct question. I am not interested either in any questions you may want to ask me, or your incessant know-it-all chattering.

"Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded her head.

"I asked you a question, answer it."

"I understand"

"You will refer to me as 'Master'."

She turned her face up and glared at him. "You…"

"Quiet," he hissed, and backhanded her hard across the face. "Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not forget your place, mudblood."

Hermione fell to the floor with the force of the slap. Tears clouded her vision, as much for the insult as the pain across her face. She tried to blink them back, unwilling to show him how much he had hurt her.

He grabbed her and dragged her back up to her knees. "You had better learn your place quickly, girl, or it will be all the worse for you. Besides your duties here you will sometimes be accompanying me to… meetings. You will find that, compared to my associates, I am an extremely lenient man, and if you do not learn how to behave you will receive much worse at their hands. You are lucky to be alive. If you were not friends with Potter you would not be. As it is, the Dark Lord deems you useful….. for now."

He wrapped his hands in her hair again and wrenched her head back, looming over her so that his face was only a few inches from hers. A flush of fear and a crawling feeling at the touch of his hands ran through her body, but she dampened it down as quickly as she could and tried not to squirm in his grasp. She looked up into his eyes again, swallowing painfully at the hate she saw in them.

"Never look your betters in the eyes, mudblood. Look any Death-Eater in the eyes and you'll get more than a slap for your trouble."

Hermione's mouth moved silently in protest, but she dared not say anything, at the mercy of his will as she was.

"I said, don't look at me," he hissed.

Her brow wrinkled in consternation. He was so close that she couldn't see anything but his face, but as his face darkened at her disobedience she quickly looked down, and fixed her gaze on his cruel mouth.

His lips lifted in a sneer. "Good. You'd better learn how to behave quickly, as we will, no doubt be called upon to attend a revel soon. Knowing your preference for rule-breaking, I expect I will have to spend an irritatingly long time instructing you before your manners are… acceptable, since I cannot give you a book to study on the subject. What will Little-Miss-Know-It-All do without her books to tell her?"

Hermione flushed at the insult, and opened her mouth to reply, but was thrown to the ground before she could get a word out.

"Now get out. You will find everything you need in the kitchen. I will expect breakfast to be ready in twenty minutes. I will be waiting in my library."

Hermione was thrown out into a wide hall with several doors. Without knowing which was the kitchen she turned quickly to the door closest and touched the handle.

"And where are you going?" a voice drawled dangerously behind her.

Hermione jumped round, fixing her eyes on the bottom of the black robes in front of her.

"I was looking for the kitchen, since I don't know where anything is. For that matter, I don't even know where HERE is."

"The kitchen is through that door." He waved a pale hand languidly in the direction of a door further down the corridor. "The door through which you were going to force your insufferable self a moment ago is my bedroom. To the right is the bathroom and this one is my library. There are wards on all the books, girl, so don't think to stick your nose in where it doesn't belong. My study, with which I am sure you are more familiar, having, in the past, called upon our dear departed headmaster, is through there," he sneered as he waved at the door at the far end.

Hermione gasped quietly, her fingers going to her mouth. She was at Hogwarts. Was there any way to use the castle's sentience to aid in her escape? Glancing back at her room her stomach dropped. It hadn't stopped him from taking over the school and mistreating the students. The castle had obviously permitted him to enter Dumbledore's office and take his place. She suddenly felt inexplicably betrayed. How could she expect help? It had allowed her to be imprisoned in these walls, without any way out that she could tell.

His next words brought her back: "I will remind you again, as doubtless you have already disregarded my previous warning, not to open the door to my study unless instructed to do so… And do not think that your impertinent speech will go unpunished. We will discuss it later."

That's completely unfair, she thought to herself, but wisely kept her mouth shut. How am I supposed to know where to go or what to do without being show, or asking?

"Sir…" He snarled, but she pushed ahead regardless. She was going to be punished anyway, so she might as well voice her request now and get it all over at the same time. "I need to use the bathroom first."

Hermione had been left in her room long enough to sleep and feel rested, and before that she had not been in a position to relieve herself for hours.

"Be quick about it. We have more… issues to discuss while I am eating," he growled, before turning and disappearing thought his library door. "You now have 15 minutes."

Hermione ran quickly to the bathroom. It was stark and bare, plain tiles with a large freestanding bath. She frowned. These chambers were nothing like what she had expected the headmaster's rooms to be like. Dumbledore's office had always seemed so warm and inviting, while these rooms were so cold and unwelcoming. Like their owner, she thought. Maybe they change with the user, she mused. She quickly pushed all thoughts out of her head and hurried to do what she had entered for, before scurrying to the kitchen.

At least this room is well equipped, she thought, as she hurried to pull out eggs, bacon and bread. Luckily the old fashioned stove was one that was constantly alight, and was ready to cook on, as well as helping to take the edge off the numbing cold she felt.

Wishing for her wand to make things simpler, she quickly toasted the bread and fried the others. Serving them onto a plate she had found in a cupboard and placing them on a tray with some cutlery, she left the room and made her way to the library. There was no way to tell how long she had taken. Her watch had been lost somewhere along the way, and there were no clock that she could see.

Balancing the tray in one hand she put her hand to the iron handle, twisted it and pushed open the door.

"In future you will always knock and wait for permission before entering any room." He paused. "I see I have my work cut out for me in teaching you manners befitting a servant. Hurry up, girl, and put it on my desk."

Hermione quickly walked across the worn carped and placed the tray on edge of the desk that he was sitting behind. It was covered in papers and books, some of which she had never seen before, and her hands twitched at her sides as she thought of getting hold of one to read. Seeing her looking, he smirked. "I'm sure you will enjoy my collection. Dusting them that is." He waved his hand lazily around the room.

She looked up for the first time, finally noticing the walls covered with hundreds of books, many of which, she was sure, were not in the restricted section, and were probably impossible to find another copy of. She followed the line of the bookcases as they disappeared up several stories into the gloom.

"That old fool left me quite the collection, which I have of course added to with my own. Pity that opening any one, or even trying to read any of the papers lying around will leave you with a terrible headache, or worse." He glanced down at the tray of food. "This is barely adequate, but will have to do for now, as I have an appointment to keep." Pushing some paper's aside he pulled the tray in front of him and started to eat.

"On the floor, girl. I will not have you looming over me."

Startled from her curious perusal of the room, Hermione sank to her knees. You're pathetic, she thought to herself. Stand up for yourself. No, no, no. Wait until you understand more of what is happening around you and make a plan. That's what you've always been good at. You've managed to keep those two boys alive for the last 6 years by checking your facts and thinking ahead.

He spoke as he ate. "In addition to cooking and cleaning, you will make sure my robes are always washed and ready. You may of course wash your own dress, but be careful not to damage it, for you will not get another. Consider yourself lucky to have even that one. Most mudbloods that have kindly been taken in by the Dark Lord's faithful followers are not given any clothes, but considering the temperature of these rooms I will allow it. I will not waste time making potions to heal you if you catch a cold, and the view does not interest me either." He looked her up and down with disdain, and her cheeks coloured.

"After your binding last night you will not be able to use any magic again. I hold the binding on you, and I will never permit it to be lifted. Even if you get your hands on a wand you will not be able to use it. I expect obedience in all things. If you cannot understand my simple instructions and feel the need to ask impertinent questions you will suffer the consequences. Understood?"

"Yes."

He looked up again. "Yes…what?"

"Yes… Master," she whispered, still unwilling to push him further, aware that she already had a punishment coming. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to show the tears of humiliation that were threatening to spill out. She didn't hear him leave his chair and stand beside her.

"Tidy that up and get to work. I will expect dinner at 6." And he swept out of the room with a swish of his black robes.

Hermione stayed on the floor for a few moments, collecting herself. I will get out of this, she thought. I will find a way to escape, and get back to my friends. And I promise, when I get away I won't leave you behind to rule Hogwarts. I won't let you do what you've done to me, to anyone else if I can help it. You bastard, Snape!