a deadly, poetic infection (sappholococcus) wrote in hp_traditions, @ 2008-05-25 20:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | lucius/hermione/severus, nc17 |
Happy Traditions, everyone!
Title: Unlikely Bedfellows, Part 4
Author: cmwinters
Gift For: all fest participants! [original recipient] wanted hurt/comfort, D/s with spanking and femmedom, threesome, Eastern Europan Summer Solstice/Festival of St. John the Baptist, Saturnalia/Yule, Lammas/First Fruits, anything Jewish and/or anything Christian. Er, I tried.
Pairing(s): Lucius/Hermione/Severus, Lucius/Severus
Summary: Hermione finds herself in a strange alliance with the Malfoy family when it's discovered that Snape is alive and in desperate need of immediate medical attention
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BDSM, hurt/comfort, slightly dominant female, threesome, some homosexual themes although I wouldn't strictly call it "slash"
Author's notes: I hope the beginning isn't too entirely boring. I tried to set it up for something plausible. The muse went on the warpath here. *stabs her with a rusty titanium spork*
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
The following couple of weeks were absolute hell for Hermione. Snape alternately refused to speak to her, frequently glowering forbiddingly the entire time she was there, or feigned sleep in her presence. Having become quite distressingly aware of each laboured breath during his earlier convalescence, she was completely aware that his fidgeting meant she was silently being insulted. Yet, the Malfoys continued to have various pressing engagements that were so well planned that even Hermione couldn't be suspicious of, no matter how badly she wanted to some days.
The Malfoys continued to be gracious hosts. She quickly learned to be careful with her words, even when pointedly questioned, after an apparently innocent conversation about favourite foods resulted in those foods being prepared for her that evening, and a similarly seemingly innocent conversation with Narcissa about clothing found the colours and styles she'd expressed even the slightest interest in nearly bursting out of the wardrobe in her guest room. But it was the sudden replenishment of her toiletries that really made her self-conscious. She wasn't paying the Malfoys anything and while to a certain extent she felt like her allowing all of them family time three or four times a week was worth room and board for the remainder of the day, she thought they were taking it to a bit of an extreme, although they never seemed in the least bit overtaxed, and they never, ever mentioned any of it to her.
The situation with Snape, however, became more and more unbearable. Although he was still too weak to be left unattended, once the healer decreed his body reasonably capable of auto-regulating temperature, they were no longer required to provide body heat for stability, much to Hermione's immense relief. She hadn't minded when he was unconscious and indifferent, but him lying stiffly next to her, exuding what she was sure was (despite Lucius' protestations to the contrary) unbridled contempt made her edgy and miserable.
But one day toward the end of July, things came to a festering head. Hermione had been desperately attempting to ignore the vicious scowl Snape was casting her way by burying her nose in Labyrinthine Layers: A Wizards Guide to Mind Magic when Snape cleared his throat.
"Miss Granger," he growled at her after she failed to respond. "When your primary responsibility of senselessly memorising that which you don't understand is sufficiently sated, your so-called secondary responsibility would appreciate your time."
She recoiled at the vicious tone of his voice and looked at him sheepishly.
"I require your assistance," he declared. She was gobsmacked. He hadn't spoken a single word to her since Lucius had intervened when he'd insulted her. Confused, she stood and walked to him.
"Yes, sir?"
"I need to visit the lavatory, and I cannot make it all the way there under my own power," he snapped at her.
"Oh. Um . . . do you want me to Mobilicorpus you? Or conjure a stretcher for you?"
"No, Miss Granger, I need your support so I can walk there!" he hissed at her.
"Oh! Right. Sorry, sir," she said, leaning down to help pull his still painfully thin body upright. He hissed when she touched him and she nearly recoiled in fear, afraid she was hurting him.
"Get on with it," he growled at her.
She awkwardly rotated around him, trying to find a semi-comfortable position for them both, which was difficult as he provided no assistance or guidance. They took a few tentative and awkward steps forward, stumbling until each got the measure of the others gait.
After what seemed an eternity, they'd managed to cross the room and arrive at the door. He held his arms out on either side of the door, effectively preventing her from going in there with him. Confused, she looked up at him.
"I'll need my wand," he spat at her upon seeing her bewildered expression.
"Oh. Um," she hedged, chewing her lip. She held her wand out to him, handle first. "Would you prefer to use mine to summon it?" she said, not at all certain where his wand was, and as he was still leaning on her she couldn't exactly walk away to get it.
"Yes, Miss Granger, I would; however, as I am not entirely certain that so doing would not cast me back into that abominable coma, you will have to do it for me. I trust you remember the spell?"
With tears pricking at the edges of her eyes, she swished her wand and intoned "Accio Snape's wand!", which she only did verbally to demonstrate that she wasn't casting any nefarious spells on the precious object. Thank Merlin for practise, because she was sure if she'd tried to say anything else, her voice would have broken. The slender piece of wood sailed across the room into her palm, and she surrendered it to Snape.
"That will be all, Miss Granger," he announced, using his arms to brace himself on the sink as he gingerly made his way to the toilet, kicking the door shut behind him and nearly slamming her in the nose with it.
Hermione was confused. She was both horrified that he'd continue to be so rude and demanding, and wondering how he intended on taking care of himself if he thought a simple Summoning charm would magically deplete him to the point of endangering his life.
She swiped at her eyes and stalked back to her chair. With him not glowering at her from across the room and building unbearably hostile energy, she was able to become absorbed in her book.
Some time later, she realised she'd finished three chapters of it, and the light outside had shifted considerably. She looked up and glanced about the room; Snape was not there, and the bathroom door was still closed. She frowned in concern. Snape didn't seem like the type to spend hours "upon the throne", and in any case, he hadn't had enough solid food to necessitate it.
But she was afraid to knock at the door, certain he would be infuriated with her for interrupting. She frowned, worried about his condition.
After several minutes of indecision, she finally made her way over to her bag and extracted an Extendable Ear, which she slipped under the door.
A muffled groan and shallow breaths gave her enough concern to push it open.
Severus Snape sat on the toilet, his skin ghostly white and shining with a sheen of sweat. He was panting in rhythmic gasps and his brow was furrowed in pain. His eyes flew open when he heard the door open, and Hermione was certain if looks could kill, she'd be dead on the floor.
"GET OUT!" he bellowed at her, and she fled.