Title : Dark Prince
Author: DiosaDeOrquesta
Rating: HIGHLY R...for mature readers only.
Summary: My first attempt at a fic (but don't let that keep you from reading!). Snape and Hermione form a relationship, but love has to survive the good times...and the bad.
Disclaimer: Okay, okay...these are not my characters. I am not making any money...wah wah wah wah wah. If they were my characters...I'd have Snape in black leather pants singing to me...in French...but that's more than you wanted to know!! But you get the idea. Pure entertainment...so enjoy!
A shadow grazed across the room. A figure under the covers stirred, eyes opening gingerly. The shadow leapt upon the bed. A girl screamed. The shadow leaned forward to brush his lips to the girl's, silencing her. The cover was thrown aside as the shadow pushed the girl back onto the mattress. She gasped, pulling the shadow deeper into her mouth. The girl gaped at the darkness as the shadow undressed her. She reached out and ran a hand down him, eliciting dark moans from the even darker figure. He swooped upon her, touching and tasting every inch of her skin until she screamed in long throes of passion, needing release. The shadow began to press into her. His tongue flicked across her nipples as he thrusted in and out. He took her lips with his as he entered a final time, brining them crashing into ecstasy. It was then that his dark hair slid from behind the fabric of his cloak and his eyes met hers. She unmasked him, and screamed.
Hermione Granger awoke with a start. She was sweating, and incredibly aroused. She had been dreaming about the potions master again. Quietly she undressed and went into her bathroom for a cold shower. One of the perks of being head girl in her last year at Hogwarts was having her own room. At least she could deal with her dream lover without causing a stir.
Hermione had had a crush on Professor Snape for over a year now. Over time he had seemed to develop a soft spot for her, as she had come to live for potions. She was the only non-Slytherin to ever win his praise, and she had spent seven years busting her ass for it. Though he never showed it to anyone but Hermione, he thought her above the mindless filth of her year. He criticized her hardest in class and embarrassed her past the point of Harry, but afterwards he would sometimes pull her aside and give her praise that no other student would ever hear. In this way had she begun to notice that his aquiline nose gave him an attractive, aristocratic appearance. On closer inspection his hair was not greasy, but shined like silk. Hermione grew weak imagining its feel between her fingers. His midnight eyes seemed to open just for her, not cold and black, but dark, with a deepness only he could possess.
"Wake up, Hermione. Morning." a small voice chimed, stirring her from her thoughts. Hermione groaned at her alarm and stepped into the icy water, wanting to cleanse herself of her desires. She had double potions today.
****************************************************
'He looks good today', Hermione noticed. His hair seemed to have a
bounce of its own as it shined in the light. He was wearing a black
silk shirt that was tightly drawn over his muscles. Hermione noticed,
on the rare occasion when he showed his figure, that he was nicely
built. She was imagining running her hands along his chest when he
spoke.
"Miss Granger," she froze, the deep drawl running like hot liquid to
her core. "Would you like to share with the class what is so
interesting that you feel obliged to stare?" He raised an eyebrow,
locking eyes with hers. She detected the challenge, and decided to
shock him. Hermione paused, steadying her voice.
"You." If he was surprised, he didn't show it.
"Excuse me?" he asked, taking a step forward.
"I'm staring at you, Professor." Hermione smiled, shocking herself. The class gasped. Snape glared.
"Pity, Miss Granger. You do seem like the type to set your sights too high. No matter, you know you do always have Mr. Weasley to fall back on when you get rejected. Maybe if you'd stop brown-nosing the teachers you'd see that your pathetic little friend has been lusting after you for years. 5 points from Gryffindor...for not...paying...attention." Hermione reddened. 'Damn him.' She glanced over to see Ron attempting to slide under the table as laughter erupted from the Slytherins. 'Bastard.' Hermione thought, although she couldn't help but suppress a smile as the potions master looked up at her, a seductive grin in his eyes.
********************************************************
The Head Girl walked slowly to the front of the classroom to return her ingredients. The bell rang and her classmates shuffled quickly out of the room. Hermione, however, did not quicken her pace. Her footsteps echoed across the dungeon. Professor Snape scowled at her. She heard him gasp then, and turned to see him doubled over in pain.
"Class is over, Miss Granger. Get out." He shot her a look of pure venom as he crouched by his desk, his hand rubbing his forearm. Hermione gathered up her belongings sullenly. She was almost to the door when she heard a sharp intake of breath and a whimper. Hermione turned.
"Professor?" She squeaked, seeing him grab onto his desk for support. Snape tried to stand up fully, but winced. He raised his eyes to the girl; eyes that now shifted wildly under his pain.
"GET OUT!" he screamed, clutching his left forearm in agony. Hermione dropped her books, and ran to the crumbled figure. Her eyes grew wide as she knelt down next to her professor, seeing the Dark Mark blazing on his arm. Hermione gasped as she was shoved away. How hot her professor's hands were! She squinted, trying to recall what little was known about the Dark Mark. She remembered that the Dark Mark burned until the Death Eaters met their master, all the while growing more painful until Voldemort at last decided to stop it. Hermione knew by the way Snape glanced at the door that he was only moments away from running to Voldemort, where he would hopefully stop the pain before it killed him. She knew that Snape was a spy for Dumbledore, and that he was in Voldemort's inner circle. He stood then, and went to move past her, but she grabbed him. Snape jumped at her touch, then managed to stand up until he was looming over her, although she could still read the pain in his eyes.
"Professor, please hear me. You can't go. No matter how much it hurts. Voldemort knows now, he has to. He knows that you're on our side. If you go back he'll tear you limb from limb. He's going to kill you if you go!!" Her voice grew in its intensity with every breath, and in a desperate attempt, she threw herself at him, grabbing his cloak, hoping to the gods that she could stop him.
"You know so very little for being an insufferable know-it-all, Miss Granger." His voice alone could kill.
"If I do not return now it will only be a matter of time before Voldemort finds me, and kills me. For now I am safe...he rejoices in seeing me suffer. Besides, with all the things I have done in my lifetime, I am past deserving it." He shuddered a little at his confession to her, but thought of nothing more than prying the young girl's hands off himself, and swept out of the room. Hermione was left on the cold dungeon floor, staring at the spot where Snape had just stood, so very close to her. She couldn't bring herself to move, only laid in a crumpled ball on the floor, and let her tears fall.
******************************************************
Hermione awoke shivering. She was on hard floor, and it was dark. Vaguely she remembered watching her professor leave. 'Professor Snape!' she thought, and turned to hear labored breathing.
"If I do correctly recall, the dungeons are not your private sleeping quarters, Miss Granger. 5 points from Gryffindor, for being out after hours." Snape was standing in the darkness, leaning against a wall. Hermione noticed his torn cloak, and his bruised face. She walked closer to him.
"My gods, what did he do to you?" She could see him turn slowly, and a streak of dried blood caught her eye. There was something unnatural in the way he moved, mechanical. Something put there by an evil monster. But she had seen that gait before, and it sunk in as he walked towards the door. "Cruciatus." She whispered. "And Imperious."
He faced her, his eyes revealing nothing.
"Very good, Miss Granger. Perhaps you've learned something yet. Get out of my sight now before I take another 5 points."
"No." She spoke softly, barely audible. She knew he had heard her. "Let me help you, Professor. You need help, you're sick." She stepped towards him, unwavering.
"I will not let you play hero with me, Miss Granger. I'm not so much a victim as your Gryffindor mind would make me out to be. You wouldn't want to help me if you knew the things I've done to earn this." he spat, thrusting out his arm, the Dark Mark glowing. Hermione closed her eyes at the blood running along it.
"You see? No one wants to be a hero with the ugly ones. They all just slip away, pretending not to notice. Go now, Miss Granger, and hope that you can forget you noticed that." Hermione stepped back at the pure hate in his voice. She could tell that the hate was not directed towards her, but inward. She placed her hand on his arm.
"Don't think that way about yourself, Professor...please. I want to help you no matter what...not because I want to play hero, not because I think you need it, or because I pity you! Damnit, Professor! Can't you just wake up? The whole world is not out to get you! Just because you've made some mistakes doesn't mean you deserve this torture you're putting yourself through." Her eyes shone with passion, and in the back of her mind she wondered what exactly was possessing her to keep saying all of these things to him. "Stop trying to hurt yourself and let me help you!" Snape stepped back at the unexpected rage in her voice. He was not going to allow himself to be weak in front of Hermione Granger, that he was sure of.
"Another 5 points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger. If you know what's good for you you'll leave now, and never look back." Hermione looked down. She wasn't going to budge.
Before she knew what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around Snape's neck and pulled his face down to hers. He wasn't stopping her, he wasn't pulling back. 'Here goes nothing.' she thought, and pressed her lips to his.
Hermione had never known such softness. His lips were warm, and like velvet. She pressed into him, parting her mouth to invite him to explore her. A few seconds later she pulled away, noticing that he wasn't kissing her back.
"Professor...I've had a crush on you for two years now." She whispered, and placed her lips on his again. He hesitantly pressed back this time, entwining his hands in her hair as he opened her mouth to him. His tongue slipped between her lips, massaging hers. She moaned into his mouth, and he danced inside her, his tongue scraping across her teeth and licking the roof of her mouth. Hermione rubbed his cheek with her hand, being wary of his bruises. She moved her tongue against his, causing delicious friction. Their tongues battled, until he at last allowed her entrance. She mimicked his strokes in her mouth, swirling over his teeth, soft tongue, and the delicate flesh on the inside of his mouth. Her hands grasped his hair, kneading her fingers against his scalp. He pulled away.
"I've murdered girls younger than you, and ones your age...girls who had the same texture hair as you, the same color eyes. I've watched Death Eaters torture Muggles for sport, and did nothing to stop them. I've killed boys in front of their mothers, only to turn to have Voldemort turn his wand on them next. I don't think even a loyal Gryffindor such as yourself can stand a man like that, can you Miss Granger?" he spat, turning away.
"Always. Not only have I had a crush on you, but with the time we spent together while doing my research project I fell. I fell hard, Professor. I've loved you for over a year, Professor. I know a little more than you may give me credit for, and I know that it is the bravest of men who will sacrifice their own honor, their own dignity and pride, to save the world, as you have done. A lesser man would not have been able to pull of the facade as you have, and your guilt shows that your heart lies in the right place. Dumbledore asked so much of you when he wanted you to spy for him, didn't he? He knew you'd have to make sacrifices. He knew that you would have to kill a few to save the many. I've never disagreed with Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and so I can't disagree with loving you." Her honesty pulled the guise from his eyes and she stared at the emotion she saw reflected in them. It took a few instants for her to realize that she had professed her hidden love for him, and she blushed suddenly. He did not turn away, and so she took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. 'He's not so cold as they would think.' she thought, neither of them blinking. 'He really does care about me. No Hermione, don't kid yourself. You'll never have a chance with Snape, not even if he humors you with a kiss. No, the best you'll ever have is a chance to show him that he's loved, to break away that cool exterior and hope that he'll want your friendship.'
"We need to get you taken care of. You're bleeding all through your clothes. I'll help you bandage those wounds, and they're going to need to be cleaned." Her voice was strong, not letting him know that inside she was hurting, inside she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on hers again. Snape nodded. He took her arm for support.
"Miss Granger, you are an amazing woman." He confided, his eyes driving into hers, seeming to search right through her soul. Hermione rightly felt that a woman had never received a greater compliment than this from the man before her, and stored it in the back of her mind for examining later.
"Take me to your room, Professor." It was a soft demand, but he did not fight her. It was not erotic in the sense that Hermione would have imagined when she fantasized about speaking those words to him; it was merely an offering of her assistance. She didn't believe that her professor would ever return her feelings.
Snape, on the other hand, hardly believed the girl, 'no, woman', he corrected himself, knew what she was saying. Women did not love Severus Snape, it was one of the things that was understood in the universe. Yet he wondered whether she had just missed that bit of knowledge as he caught her stealing glances at him. He led her to his private chambers, through countless secret hallways and a labyrinth of doors. Her arm stayed wrapped tightly around his as she walked next to him. He opened a final door and she found herself in a living room. The furniture was exquisite; a large light brown leather sofa claimed almost half of the room, next to dark wooden tables, where books were strewn about precariously. Hermione saw a large, black eagle on a post on one side of the room. It eyed her carefully as she looked around. She could see his bedroom from here. The most beautiful looking bed she had ever seen dominated the room, in its dark green and silver glory. 'Slytherin colors'. She mused. 'Could've called that.' Her eyes widened, however, when she took in his bookshelves. All around his bedroom, inhabiting three whole walls, were books from floor to ceiling. Golden covers, leather bindings, tattered pages, Hermione's mind whirled. Never had she seen such an impressive personal collection. She shook her head as Snape squeezed her hand.
"I knew you would enjoy that, Miss Granger." He said sweetly, nodding towards the books.
"I've never seen so many in one place...outside a library." She spoke, truly awed. He smiled.
"I thought as much. I suppose I will have to let you visit my selection now, since you are so damn adamant in helping me, and now that you've seen it." He saw her blush at that. He walked into his bathroom, and she followed.
"We've got to get you out of these clothes." She undressed him carefully. Hermione noticed that he did not utter a word when she hit his tender cuts. The only reaction was the slight closing of his eyes, and he stiffened. Being a Death Eater had taught him a thing or two about disguise, and as he had been a Slytherin, he was never used to showing his true emotion.
Hermione stopped when he had everything off but his pants. She looked up at him in question. He took them off, then, and stood before her in his boxers. She handed him one of his towels, and started at his arm while he washed his face. There was a lot of damage that needed repaired. She supposed that he should go to Madam Pomfrey, but she didn't suggest it, as she knew he wouldn't have agreed anyway.
The cut around the Dark Mark was the worst. It appeared as if someone had tried to cut it off of his skin, and Hermione muttered a charm to stop the bleeding. Snape grimaced as she cleaned the cut, rubbing a potion he'd given her into it to stop an infection. When she had wrapped his arm and bandaged his face and he was clean, she stepped back to look at him. He took out his wand and produced a few concealment charms to hide the damage, but she knew what had been there. Snape stared at her, unabashed. He placed his palm on her cheek and Hermione moved into it, closing her eyes. He dropped down to whisper, so close to her face that every word was a kiss.
"Thank you, Hermione." She looked up at him. It was the first time he'd ever used her first name. Hermione could feel her doubts vanishing as he claimed her lips with his, and she pushed back with passion. She could feel her physical longing for him, and arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest. He wrapped a strong arm around her, and guided her out of the bathroom. Hermione moved her hands up and down his back, a moan escaping her lips.
"Hermione," he looked down with sincere regret in his eyes, "we can't." A tear fell from her eyes as she buried her face in his chest.
"I love you!" She cried. "I've loved you for so long, only you, Professor. I don't care about anything but you. I need to feel...I need to feel you touch me. Please..." The last word was a whisper, and Snape gazed down into the eyes of the dark haired beauty that stood before him. In her last year at Hogwarts she had developed into a woman. Her hair grew sleeker, tamer. She was tall, slender. Her girlish figure was replaced with one to make a grown man weak. Snape turned away slightly, wanting to resist temptation. He didn't trust himself with a creature so small and beautiful; he could break her with his rough hands. 'She can't possibly know what she's seeing. She's in mental shock from all that blood and all that work she's done for me.' Snape went to push her away, sure that she was having an attack of adolescent hormones and her desire for him would quickly pass. Hermione wouldn't have it, though. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him soundly.
"I know what I want." She breathed, deep and sultry. "and that," she kissed him, almost chastely, "is you." Snape pulled her tightly to him, and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Stay with me." He murmured. She smiled.
"Of course."
"Can I just...hold you?" he asked. The innocence in his voice soothed Hermione. She kissed the palm of his hand, the roles seemingly reversed for the time being.
"Anything you want, Severus. I trust you." He smiled then, and his whole face lit up. It was something Hermione had never witnessed before, and it took her breath away. She had hoped that using his first name would be the right thing to do. 'Indeed it was.' she thought as he led her towards his bedroom. Snape turned on his fireplace, casting a romantic glow over the room. He walked to Hermione, and began to take off her robe. He undressed her slowly, his deft fingers trailing over her body until she was in nothing but her underwear. He undid his covers and tilted his head towards them. Hermione got in, not afraid in the least bit. Severus climbed in next to her and pulled her to him, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder.
"You are so beautiful." he spoke, closing his eyes against her hair.
"Shh." Hermione whispered, her voice warm and soft in his ear. "Sleep."
Author: DiosaDeOrquesta
Rating: HIGHLY R...for mature readers only.
Summary: My first attempt at a fic (but don't let that keep you from reading!). Snape and Hermione form a relationship, but love has to survive the good times...and the bad.
Disclaimer: Okay, okay...these are not my characters. I am not making any money...wah wah wah wah wah. If they were my characters...I'd have Snape in black leather pants singing to me...in French...but that's more than you wanted to know!! But you get the idea. Pure entertainment...so enjoy!
A shadow grazed across the room. A figure under the covers stirred, eyes opening gingerly. The shadow leapt upon the bed. A girl screamed. The shadow leaned forward to brush his lips to the girl's, silencing her. The cover was thrown aside as the shadow pushed the girl back onto the mattress. She gasped, pulling the shadow deeper into her mouth. The girl gaped at the darkness as the shadow undressed her. She reached out and ran a hand down him, eliciting dark moans from the even darker figure. He swooped upon her, touching and tasting every inch of her skin until she screamed in long throes of passion, needing release. The shadow began to press into her. His tongue flicked across her nipples as he thrusted in and out. He took her lips with his as he entered a final time, brining them crashing into ecstasy. It was then that his dark hair slid from behind the fabric of his cloak and his eyes met hers. She unmasked him, and screamed.
Hermione Granger awoke with a start. She was sweating, and incredibly aroused. She had been dreaming about the potions master again. Quietly she undressed and went into her bathroom for a cold shower. One of the perks of being head girl in her last year at Hogwarts was having her own room. At least she could deal with her dream lover without causing a stir.
Hermione had had a crush on Professor Snape for over a year now. Over time he had seemed to develop a soft spot for her, as she had come to live for potions. She was the only non-Slytherin to ever win his praise, and she had spent seven years busting her ass for it. Though he never showed it to anyone but Hermione, he thought her above the mindless filth of her year. He criticized her hardest in class and embarrassed her past the point of Harry, but afterwards he would sometimes pull her aside and give her praise that no other student would ever hear. In this way had she begun to notice that his aquiline nose gave him an attractive, aristocratic appearance. On closer inspection his hair was not greasy, but shined like silk. Hermione grew weak imagining its feel between her fingers. His midnight eyes seemed to open just for her, not cold and black, but dark, with a deepness only he could possess.
"Wake up, Hermione. Morning." a small voice chimed, stirring her from her thoughts. Hermione groaned at her alarm and stepped into the icy water, wanting to cleanse herself of her desires. She had double potions today.
****************************************************
'He looks good today', Hermione noticed. His hair seemed to have a
bounce of its own as it shined in the light. He was wearing a black
silk shirt that was tightly drawn over his muscles. Hermione noticed,
on the rare occasion when he showed his figure, that he was nicely
built. She was imagining running her hands along his chest when he
spoke.
"Miss Granger," she froze, the deep drawl running like hot liquid to
her core. "Would you like to share with the class what is so
interesting that you feel obliged to stare?" He raised an eyebrow,
locking eyes with hers. She detected the challenge, and decided to
shock him. Hermione paused, steadying her voice.
"You." If he was surprised, he didn't show it.
"Excuse me?" he asked, taking a step forward.
"I'm staring at you, Professor." Hermione smiled, shocking herself. The class gasped. Snape glared.
"Pity, Miss Granger. You do seem like the type to set your sights too high. No matter, you know you do always have Mr. Weasley to fall back on when you get rejected. Maybe if you'd stop brown-nosing the teachers you'd see that your pathetic little friend has been lusting after you for years. 5 points from Gryffindor...for not...paying...attention." Hermione reddened. 'Damn him.' She glanced over to see Ron attempting to slide under the table as laughter erupted from the Slytherins. 'Bastard.' Hermione thought, although she couldn't help but suppress a smile as the potions master looked up at her, a seductive grin in his eyes.
********************************************************
The Head Girl walked slowly to the front of the classroom to return her ingredients. The bell rang and her classmates shuffled quickly out of the room. Hermione, however, did not quicken her pace. Her footsteps echoed across the dungeon. Professor Snape scowled at her. She heard him gasp then, and turned to see him doubled over in pain.
"Class is over, Miss Granger. Get out." He shot her a look of pure venom as he crouched by his desk, his hand rubbing his forearm. Hermione gathered up her belongings sullenly. She was almost to the door when she heard a sharp intake of breath and a whimper. Hermione turned.
"Professor?" She squeaked, seeing him grab onto his desk for support. Snape tried to stand up fully, but winced. He raised his eyes to the girl; eyes that now shifted wildly under his pain.
"GET OUT!" he screamed, clutching his left forearm in agony. Hermione dropped her books, and ran to the crumbled figure. Her eyes grew wide as she knelt down next to her professor, seeing the Dark Mark blazing on his arm. Hermione gasped as she was shoved away. How hot her professor's hands were! She squinted, trying to recall what little was known about the Dark Mark. She remembered that the Dark Mark burned until the Death Eaters met their master, all the while growing more painful until Voldemort at last decided to stop it. Hermione knew by the way Snape glanced at the door that he was only moments away from running to Voldemort, where he would hopefully stop the pain before it killed him. She knew that Snape was a spy for Dumbledore, and that he was in Voldemort's inner circle. He stood then, and went to move past her, but she grabbed him. Snape jumped at her touch, then managed to stand up until he was looming over her, although she could still read the pain in his eyes.
"Professor, please hear me. You can't go. No matter how much it hurts. Voldemort knows now, he has to. He knows that you're on our side. If you go back he'll tear you limb from limb. He's going to kill you if you go!!" Her voice grew in its intensity with every breath, and in a desperate attempt, she threw herself at him, grabbing his cloak, hoping to the gods that she could stop him.
"You know so very little for being an insufferable know-it-all, Miss Granger." His voice alone could kill.
"If I do not return now it will only be a matter of time before Voldemort finds me, and kills me. For now I am safe...he rejoices in seeing me suffer. Besides, with all the things I have done in my lifetime, I am past deserving it." He shuddered a little at his confession to her, but thought of nothing more than prying the young girl's hands off himself, and swept out of the room. Hermione was left on the cold dungeon floor, staring at the spot where Snape had just stood, so very close to her. She couldn't bring herself to move, only laid in a crumpled ball on the floor, and let her tears fall.
******************************************************
Hermione awoke shivering. She was on hard floor, and it was dark. Vaguely she remembered watching her professor leave. 'Professor Snape!' she thought, and turned to hear labored breathing.
"If I do correctly recall, the dungeons are not your private sleeping quarters, Miss Granger. 5 points from Gryffindor, for being out after hours." Snape was standing in the darkness, leaning against a wall. Hermione noticed his torn cloak, and his bruised face. She walked closer to him.
"My gods, what did he do to you?" She could see him turn slowly, and a streak of dried blood caught her eye. There was something unnatural in the way he moved, mechanical. Something put there by an evil monster. But she had seen that gait before, and it sunk in as he walked towards the door. "Cruciatus." She whispered. "And Imperious."
He faced her, his eyes revealing nothing.
"Very good, Miss Granger. Perhaps you've learned something yet. Get out of my sight now before I take another 5 points."
"No." She spoke softly, barely audible. She knew he had heard her. "Let me help you, Professor. You need help, you're sick." She stepped towards him, unwavering.
"I will not let you play hero with me, Miss Granger. I'm not so much a victim as your Gryffindor mind would make me out to be. You wouldn't want to help me if you knew the things I've done to earn this." he spat, thrusting out his arm, the Dark Mark glowing. Hermione closed her eyes at the blood running along it.
"You see? No one wants to be a hero with the ugly ones. They all just slip away, pretending not to notice. Go now, Miss Granger, and hope that you can forget you noticed that." Hermione stepped back at the pure hate in his voice. She could tell that the hate was not directed towards her, but inward. She placed her hand on his arm.
"Don't think that way about yourself, Professor...please. I want to help you no matter what...not because I want to play hero, not because I think you need it, or because I pity you! Damnit, Professor! Can't you just wake up? The whole world is not out to get you! Just because you've made some mistakes doesn't mean you deserve this torture you're putting yourself through." Her eyes shone with passion, and in the back of her mind she wondered what exactly was possessing her to keep saying all of these things to him. "Stop trying to hurt yourself and let me help you!" Snape stepped back at the unexpected rage in her voice. He was not going to allow himself to be weak in front of Hermione Granger, that he was sure of.
"Another 5 points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger. If you know what's good for you you'll leave now, and never look back." Hermione looked down. She wasn't going to budge.
Before she knew what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around Snape's neck and pulled his face down to hers. He wasn't stopping her, he wasn't pulling back. 'Here goes nothing.' she thought, and pressed her lips to his.
Hermione had never known such softness. His lips were warm, and like velvet. She pressed into him, parting her mouth to invite him to explore her. A few seconds later she pulled away, noticing that he wasn't kissing her back.
"Professor...I've had a crush on you for two years now." She whispered, and placed her lips on his again. He hesitantly pressed back this time, entwining his hands in her hair as he opened her mouth to him. His tongue slipped between her lips, massaging hers. She moaned into his mouth, and he danced inside her, his tongue scraping across her teeth and licking the roof of her mouth. Hermione rubbed his cheek with her hand, being wary of his bruises. She moved her tongue against his, causing delicious friction. Their tongues battled, until he at last allowed her entrance. She mimicked his strokes in her mouth, swirling over his teeth, soft tongue, and the delicate flesh on the inside of his mouth. Her hands grasped his hair, kneading her fingers against his scalp. He pulled away.
"I've murdered girls younger than you, and ones your age...girls who had the same texture hair as you, the same color eyes. I've watched Death Eaters torture Muggles for sport, and did nothing to stop them. I've killed boys in front of their mothers, only to turn to have Voldemort turn his wand on them next. I don't think even a loyal Gryffindor such as yourself can stand a man like that, can you Miss Granger?" he spat, turning away.
"Always. Not only have I had a crush on you, but with the time we spent together while doing my research project I fell. I fell hard, Professor. I've loved you for over a year, Professor. I know a little more than you may give me credit for, and I know that it is the bravest of men who will sacrifice their own honor, their own dignity and pride, to save the world, as you have done. A lesser man would not have been able to pull of the facade as you have, and your guilt shows that your heart lies in the right place. Dumbledore asked so much of you when he wanted you to spy for him, didn't he? He knew you'd have to make sacrifices. He knew that you would have to kill a few to save the many. I've never disagreed with Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and so I can't disagree with loving you." Her honesty pulled the guise from his eyes and she stared at the emotion she saw reflected in them. It took a few instants for her to realize that she had professed her hidden love for him, and she blushed suddenly. He did not turn away, and so she took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. 'He's not so cold as they would think.' she thought, neither of them blinking. 'He really does care about me. No Hermione, don't kid yourself. You'll never have a chance with Snape, not even if he humors you with a kiss. No, the best you'll ever have is a chance to show him that he's loved, to break away that cool exterior and hope that he'll want your friendship.'
"We need to get you taken care of. You're bleeding all through your clothes. I'll help you bandage those wounds, and they're going to need to be cleaned." Her voice was strong, not letting him know that inside she was hurting, inside she wanted nothing more than to feel his lips on hers again. Snape nodded. He took her arm for support.
"Miss Granger, you are an amazing woman." He confided, his eyes driving into hers, seeming to search right through her soul. Hermione rightly felt that a woman had never received a greater compliment than this from the man before her, and stored it in the back of her mind for examining later.
"Take me to your room, Professor." It was a soft demand, but he did not fight her. It was not erotic in the sense that Hermione would have imagined when she fantasized about speaking those words to him; it was merely an offering of her assistance. She didn't believe that her professor would ever return her feelings.
Snape, on the other hand, hardly believed the girl, 'no, woman', he corrected himself, knew what she was saying. Women did not love Severus Snape, it was one of the things that was understood in the universe. Yet he wondered whether she had just missed that bit of knowledge as he caught her stealing glances at him. He led her to his private chambers, through countless secret hallways and a labyrinth of doors. Her arm stayed wrapped tightly around his as she walked next to him. He opened a final door and she found herself in a living room. The furniture was exquisite; a large light brown leather sofa claimed almost half of the room, next to dark wooden tables, where books were strewn about precariously. Hermione saw a large, black eagle on a post on one side of the room. It eyed her carefully as she looked around. She could see his bedroom from here. The most beautiful looking bed she had ever seen dominated the room, in its dark green and silver glory. 'Slytherin colors'. She mused. 'Could've called that.' Her eyes widened, however, when she took in his bookshelves. All around his bedroom, inhabiting three whole walls, were books from floor to ceiling. Golden covers, leather bindings, tattered pages, Hermione's mind whirled. Never had she seen such an impressive personal collection. She shook her head as Snape squeezed her hand.
"I knew you would enjoy that, Miss Granger." He said sweetly, nodding towards the books.
"I've never seen so many in one place...outside a library." She spoke, truly awed. He smiled.
"I thought as much. I suppose I will have to let you visit my selection now, since you are so damn adamant in helping me, and now that you've seen it." He saw her blush at that. He walked into his bathroom, and she followed.
"We've got to get you out of these clothes." She undressed him carefully. Hermione noticed that he did not utter a word when she hit his tender cuts. The only reaction was the slight closing of his eyes, and he stiffened. Being a Death Eater had taught him a thing or two about disguise, and as he had been a Slytherin, he was never used to showing his true emotion.
Hermione stopped when he had everything off but his pants. She looked up at him in question. He took them off, then, and stood before her in his boxers. She handed him one of his towels, and started at his arm while he washed his face. There was a lot of damage that needed repaired. She supposed that he should go to Madam Pomfrey, but she didn't suggest it, as she knew he wouldn't have agreed anyway.
The cut around the Dark Mark was the worst. It appeared as if someone had tried to cut it off of his skin, and Hermione muttered a charm to stop the bleeding. Snape grimaced as she cleaned the cut, rubbing a potion he'd given her into it to stop an infection. When she had wrapped his arm and bandaged his face and he was clean, she stepped back to look at him. He took out his wand and produced a few concealment charms to hide the damage, but she knew what had been there. Snape stared at her, unabashed. He placed his palm on her cheek and Hermione moved into it, closing her eyes. He dropped down to whisper, so close to her face that every word was a kiss.
"Thank you, Hermione." She looked up at him. It was the first time he'd ever used her first name. Hermione could feel her doubts vanishing as he claimed her lips with his, and she pushed back with passion. She could feel her physical longing for him, and arched her back, pushing her breasts into his chest. He wrapped a strong arm around her, and guided her out of the bathroom. Hermione moved her hands up and down his back, a moan escaping her lips.
"Hermione," he looked down with sincere regret in his eyes, "we can't." A tear fell from her eyes as she buried her face in his chest.
"I love you!" She cried. "I've loved you for so long, only you, Professor. I don't care about anything but you. I need to feel...I need to feel you touch me. Please..." The last word was a whisper, and Snape gazed down into the eyes of the dark haired beauty that stood before him. In her last year at Hogwarts she had developed into a woman. Her hair grew sleeker, tamer. She was tall, slender. Her girlish figure was replaced with one to make a grown man weak. Snape turned away slightly, wanting to resist temptation. He didn't trust himself with a creature so small and beautiful; he could break her with his rough hands. 'She can't possibly know what she's seeing. She's in mental shock from all that blood and all that work she's done for me.' Snape went to push her away, sure that she was having an attack of adolescent hormones and her desire for him would quickly pass. Hermione wouldn't have it, though. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him soundly.
"I know what I want." She breathed, deep and sultry. "and that," she kissed him, almost chastely, "is you." Snape pulled her tightly to him, and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Stay with me." He murmured. She smiled.
"Of course."
"Can I just...hold you?" he asked. The innocence in his voice soothed Hermione. She kissed the palm of his hand, the roles seemingly reversed for the time being.
"Anything you want, Severus. I trust you." He smiled then, and his whole face lit up. It was something Hermione had never witnessed before, and it took her breath away. She had hoped that using his first name would be the right thing to do. 'Indeed it was.' she thought as he led her towards his bedroom. Snape turned on his fireplace, casting a romantic glow over the room. He walked to Hermione, and began to take off her robe. He undressed her slowly, his deft fingers trailing over her body until she was in nothing but her underwear. He undid his covers and tilted his head towards them. Hermione got in, not afraid in the least bit. Severus climbed in next to her and pulled her to him, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder.
"You are so beautiful." he spoke, closing his eyes against her hair.
"Shh." Hermione whispered, her voice warm and soft in his ear. "Sleep."