Author's Note: A long long time ago, I can still remember when, I used to write fanfiction. And I wrote a story called Owned. It's 46 chapters long, and it's a dark and smutty (but I'd like to think also beautiful) ride through a Dominant/submissive relationship between the great and powerful Severus Snape and the ever eager to please Hermione Granger. I had it posted here several years ago, and then I decided to take a break from fanfiction to write some original works. Over those years, quite a few of you have kept in touch, and I've always been grateful to have such wonderful friends in the community. Occasionally someone will still ask about this story, and I've felt guilty about keeping it to myself while there are people who would still like to read it. So, I'm going to re-post it.

I'd like to think that my writing has improved since the first draft of this tale, so the version I'm posting now will be new and improved. I'm going to try to commit to posting two chapters a week because I think that'll be good exercise for me.

I'd love to hear from you, if you're reading this story for the first time, or if you're and old friend. Like they say, there's no place like home.

SPOV

"Ssseverus?"

I looked up into the red eyes of my master, the psychopath who would rule the world now that the great Harry Potter had failed. I couldn't say that I was surprised. The boy had always been a dunderhead.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"The mudblood is yours. I know you've always wanted to teach her a lesson. Now is your chance."

I raked my eyes over the broken form of Hermione Granger, my former student, best friend of the boy-who-foolishly-got-himself-captured, owner of the most brilliant mind in a century. I hated her. I hated her with everything that I was, because she was everything that I would never be: innocent, loyal, beautiful.

"Thank you, my Lord."

He moved on to the next of his faithful followers, handing out spoils of war as rewards. He had gifted me thus far with two houses that I had no use for, fortunes that I didn't need, a female House-Elf named Tink (of all the dreadful things) and one small bushy-haired know it all. I was well and truly buggerd. There was, of course, no refusing a gift from him. I would have to find a use for it all, or somewhere to dump it.

When he was finished, he dismissed us, and we went our separate ways.

"Tink," I commanded. "Come, and bring the girl."

She obeyed me, levitating the still unconscious Granger girl until we were outside of the Dark Lord's strong hold.

"Do you know where my manor is?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good, bring her with you." I turned on the spot and Apparated to my home. Tink appeared in my kitchen a moment later with the girl.

"How badly is she injured?"

"Miss has been cursed. Miss's wrist is broken. Miss was hit in the head."

"Are you capable of healing her and setting her right?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good. Tend to her, and get her cleaned up. When you are done, put her in the first spare bedroom, the one next to mine. Lock her in."

"Yes, Master," she squeaked again before winking out of sight. At least she was an obedient little thing. It was too much to hope that Miss Granger would be the same.

I retired to my own room, shedding my filthy clothes as I went. I flung every stitch into the fireplace on my way past. They were torn and bloodied beyond repair.

I lowered my head to the cold shower wall and let the warm water cascade down my back. A couple of minor injuries stung as the cleansing spray hit them, so I retrieved my wand from its place on the sink and haphazardly closed the open wounds. I was starving and exhausted. I wanted something warm to eat, and then I intended to pass out for at least twelve hours.

I stepped out of the shower and dressed in a comfortable pair of black cotton pants and a black t-shirt. I would never be caught dead in them outside of my home, but I had to admit that muggles did make incredibly comfortable clothes.

Padding back down the hall to the kitchen, I check the door to Miss Granger's room. It was closed and warded. Tink had used a simple spell, but I doubted that the girl could undo it without her wand. She was smart, but she was only a seventh year, and her wand-less skills were unlikely to be sufficient.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a hearty meal of roast beef, potatoes, and green beans already begun in the kitchen. I would have settled for canned soup, warmed with a heating charm. This would take longer, but my stomach thought it was worth the wait. Judging from the smell, she was also baking fresh bread. Maybe this House-Elf thing wouldn't be so bad after all. I wondered where she had gotten the food. I was certain that it had not been in the house.

"Tink is sorry that dinner is late, Master," she said. Her voice trembled with terror. "Tink will punish herself..."

"No. I forbid you from punishing yourself. You have only been here for twenty minutes, and I told you to attend to the Granger girl. I did not expect you to also make dinner," I said. "I am not accustomed to having a House-Elf. I forgot to leave instructions. Where did you get the food?"

She levitated a mixed-greens salad as I spoke and set it by my place at the table. "Tink ordered it from Mr. Clark by floo."

Mr. Clark was the old wizard who owned the grocery across town. I did not have an account set up with him, nor with any grocer. "How did you pay for it?"

The tiny elf suddenly looked very ashamed. "Tink had money from her old mistresses purse. Tink knows she should have turned it over. Tink didn't know how else to buy food for Master." She lifted a rolling pin that she must have dug out of some forgotten cupboard, and began to beat herself over the head with it.

"Stop it," I commanded. She ceased immediately. "You will refrain from punishing yourself at all times. I find it an absurd practice, and I will not tolerate it in this house. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I will open an account with Mr. Clark so that you may shop there as you please. You may keep the remainder of the money that you have. Spend it as you like."

"Oh no. Tink can't do that."

"I just told you that you could. Don't argue with me." I had forgotten how infuriating dealing with a House-Elf could be. Of course it had its up side too, as evidenced by the perfectly cooked meal that was now in front of me. She was quick.

I over did it. The food was excellent, and it had been quiet some time since I'd had a homemade meal. I peeked into Granger's room on my way to my own. Her unruly mop of hair was visible above the blanket. She was still asleep. Tink assured me that she was conscious, just exhausted. I left her with instructions to feed the girl, as needed, and let her rest.

I tumbled into bed and slept dreamlessly.

HPOV

Oh God, my head hurts. I rolled over, and my stomach turned. I fought back to urge to vomit.

"Miss is awake?" A tiny House-Elf popped into view. I did not recognize her. Where am I?

"Miss needs to drink this." She held a vile of yellow liquid out to me. It looked like a general healing potion. It should fix the sour stomach and the headache. I uncorked it and sniffed. It was as I thought. I drank it down gratefully, and the relief from it was instantaneous. I was still tired, but the aching was dissolving into nothingness.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Snape Manor, Miss."

"Snape? As in Professor Severus Snape?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Is he here?"

"Master is asleep."

What on earth happened? I slowly took in my surroundings. The bed was soft and warm. A thick white duvet covered me. There was a small fire burning in the fireplace, but otherwise the room was dark. I couldn't see anything. I tried to stand, but was immediately dizzy, so I sat back down.

"What is your name?" I asked the elf.

"I is Tink, Miss."

"I'm Hermione."

"Miss should go back to sleep."

I blinked a few times. I was still very tired, but I was also hungry, and I had a burning need to know what was going on.

"How long have you served Professor Snape?"

"Same as you. Six hours. Now to sleep."

"Same as me? What do you mean?"

"Tink means nothing, Miss. Sleep." As the House-Elf disappeared, I began to wonder if I had simply imagined her all together. My eyelids closed of their own accord, and I realized that the healing potion must have also contained a sleeping aid. I had barely enough time to wonder why I hadn't smelled it before the darkness overtook me.

My dreams were filled with vivid wand fire. Curses and hexes were being thrown from all sides. Harry, Ron, and I were fighting back to back as the crowd of death eaters closed in around us. I threw up shield after shield, firing return curses around them, but I simply couldn't keep up.

I shot straight up in bed, my nightgown damp with sweat, and my heart pounding in my rib cage. A gentle morning light now poured in through the windows of a room that looked vaguely familiar. I rested on my elbows and tried to calm my breathing.

To my left was a door that I assumed lead to the loo. I stood, my bare feet cold against the hardwood floor, and made my way to it. I felt as if I'd been digested by a dung beetle. I looked in the bathroom mirror. There was a long gash on the left side of my forehead. It had been tended, but the cut would take a while to fully heal. It might even scar. Someone had clearly bathed and changed me. The long nightshirt that I wore was clearly not my own. I had a distant memory of an encounter with a House-Elf, but I was unsure if it was dream or reality.

I used the toilet, washed my face, and then made my way through the bedroom. I tried the door. It had been warded, but the ward was not strong. I reached automatically for my wand, but could not find it. I searched the nightstand. I had no pockets. No such luck.

My wand-less magic was pretty good. Under normal circumstances, I thought I could get through the door easily. I was tired and hungry right now though, which would make it less likely. There was also the matter of what might be on the other side of the door. What if I had been locked in for my own safety? Without my wand, I was nearly defenseless. I didn't like that feeling at all. It might be best to stay put until someone came for me.

I returned to the bed and sat on the edge. I tried to remember what had happened. I knew that it couldn't have been good. Harry, Ron, and I had been walking to Hogsmeade to do some Christmas shopping and I remembered being attacked by Death Eaters, but it all became blurry after that.

I tried to chase away the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Where were Harry and Ron?

The smell of breakfast made its way down the hall, pulling me from my musing. I was famished. My grumbling stomach eventually made up my mind for me. I stood in front of the door, closed my eyes and concentrated on the wand-less spell. A moment later, much to my satisfaction, the door clicked open.

I stuck my head out into the hallway. It was empty. I went in the direction of the wonderful smell. I found the kitchen easily, and I had clearly not dreamed the House-Elf, as she was now scurrying around the kitchen seeing to breakfast.

The Professor himself sat with his head bowed over the Daily Prophet. He looked up, sensing my presence. "Miss Granger, good of you to join us. I see you've managed to escape from your room."

The elf spun around very quickly, her eyes wide with fright. "Oh noes, Sir," she said. "I is warding Miss's door like a good elf. I do not knows how she got out. I is not giving Miss her wand."

"It's okay Tink," he answered, "Miss Granger apparently paid more attention to her wand-less spells than I had originally assumed. I'll not under estimate her again." He looked directly at me as he said the last sentence, his black eyes cold and calculating. Apparently, I should have stayed in my room.

"Sit down, Granger, and stop gaping like a cod-fish."

I sat down. "Sir? Why am I here?"