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Hermione opened her eyes. She couldn't remember exactly where she was, but she did remember how to gasp and did so instinctively.
"I see you are up, Miss Granger."
Severus Snape was hovering over her, his expression schooled into a glare. She wondered if he was the reason she had woken up or whether he'd simply been waiting for her to do so. Then she realized she had no idea whether she was dressed or naked and didn't dare look down and lift the blanket to check. She thought she was dressed. Um. She wasn't really too sure. And if she was, how dressed was she? And where was she? And what was Snape doing where she was?
"Um," she said.
"You made a grave mistake," he said silkily.
Did she? Um.
"Or rather, several of them."
Oh, God, she didn't get drunk and attempted to sleep with him, did she?... DID she?... She might've. She couldn't really remember, just a bit more drink than usual and then leaving to... um...
"Going off to fight against Lucius Malfoy on your own was one."
Right. She remembered that. Vaguely. Very vaguely. She was so pissed at him, for his new attempt to hurt Ginny... She'd barely escaped and the Ministry hadn't done much to fight against the damned Death Eaters who had so nearly caught her in that alley and against Lucius Bloody Malfoy. He'd escaped from jail and they'd done nothing. He'd conducted an assault on Diagon Alley and they'd done nothing again. There was a pattern to that and she hated seeing it.
"I assure you, no sixth year brat can handle a Death Eater of his experience."
Neither could the Ministry. But she was smart. She was strong. And she had been quite drunk.
"I think you're rather lucky to have been hit by a car."
Car? What car?... Ooooh, right, that car. She hadn't known that wizards used cars, but there had been one in Hogsmeade. Probably just a single one. The one that had hit her. What an embarrassing way to end up in the hospital. But then, how did he know of her plans?... She opened her mouth to ask and closed it back again.
"That, I think, was your second mistake. Your third one was to give my name as the person of contact at St. Mungo's. You could've chosen Weasley or Potter or whomever stroke your fancy. But you chose me. And now, the entire school knows."
"Rumors travel at light speed in such situations, Miss Granger. You were injured. You were given the chance to ask for the person closest to you and you asked for me. It is clear to everybody that we are involved."
"I am sure you must understand what I mean by 'involved'."
"I mean that they all thing I've been thoroughly ravishing you in all positions and there are rumors about how I was supposedly caught by the Creevey brothers while penetrating you against a wall in a hidden and dark corner or the school one night and bribed them afterwards to keep their mouths shut and their pictures of the events away. They deny it, of course. Rumors say that it is because I also threatened to use them as targets for my Defense Against the Dark Arts class if they spilled anything. Also, that I used to, as a matter of fact, fuck you on the teacher's desk after each class with you."
"That isn't much of a coherent or even articulated answer, Miss Granger and I assure you that your blush and tremble will not aid the situation at the moment. I am not impressed with them. And I wouldn't be much impressed with your attempts to plea me to take pity on you and understand that it was all a mistake and you are very sorry."
"I do believe you were more coherent and articulate in class, weren't you?"
She paused to gather herself together. She hadn't known he had a vocabulary. She hadn't known she'd been causing him trouble. She hadn't even known that she'd given his name, dammit. But why had she done it?... True, she had a sliiiight crush on him. But that was all. She tried to remember her reasonings of the previous night and she realized it was a lost cause. She could barely remember the car accident.
"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" she asked, very quietly. He probably had very good hearing, because he didn't ask her to repeat.
"Of course," he snarled. "Do you think I was about to leave you off with just a warning?"
"I thought I should offer."
"It doesn't change anything. I had a proposal of how you should make it up to me anyway. The fact that you offered simply means that I don't have to break your bones to make you see things my way."
Her face darkened. She couldn't tell him he was presuming too much, now could she?... she was presuming too much. She glared a bit, just to prove her point. He didn't even notice.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked. Not that she really needed to. He would've told her anyway. Still, she liked to keep the impression (although she wasn't fooled by it and he didn't even know that he was supposed to be fooled) that she had some sort of choice in the matter.
"You'll be my slave. For a week."
"You got me into this mess. I might as well make the most out of it. If they say we are lovers and that the so-called secret is "out", then we might as well play the part."
"I'm not asking you to sleep with me. I wouldn't be asking if I wanted you to. I am demanding that you serve me 24 hours a day, for 7 days in any way that I demand of you. Most of that will consist of cleaning up and taking care of my apartments. And learning how to be meek and mild and polite and never impose your stupidity on others. At the end, you will get precisely what I am getting at the moment: the entire school will despise you for an illicit affair. I don't care how you face them. However, I find it... kinder... to announce you that I for myself will say that the affair existed, that it is legal, since there is nothing to stop a student/teacher affair and you are already 17. That's the age of consent and you are older than the typical 6th year student. If you wish to deny, you may. But you will not be believed."
"I allow you to say whatever you may want about our relationship and my bed manners."
"Enough of that. Get dressed and come."
He left the room. Hermione stared after him and then, finally, took a look around. Rock walls. Hogwarts?... Double bed. Snape's?... Probably. Big bookshelf. Tempting. An opened door to a big bathroom. Some of her clothes, on a chair. Blue sheets. Nice. No windows. Probably the professor's rooms at Hogwarts. She chanced a look under a blanket and groaned. She was dressed only in her knickers.
She got up and dressed quickly, then followed him out the door.
AN: Please review.