Deliver Me

Chapter XV – Black, Black Heart


Amazingly Severus didn’t feel her move from beneath him during the night and when he finally did realized she was gone, for one of the few times in his life Severus Snape panicked.

He found her naked lounging in his tub with her eyes closed basking in the water.

“Cover your eyes or leave,” he heard her say.

He wasn’t sure whether to be angry, shocked at her shamelessness or apprehensive about seeing her nude … again.

“What are you doing?” he asked her, ‘stupid question’ he told himself.

“What does it look like?” She opened her eyes and met his.

“The next time you wish to trollop yourself in front a man Miss Granger choose someone who will either flatter you like a schoolboy or sweetly ravage you into oblivion, for I shall do neither,” his words were so bold.

“I never asked you to do either,” she told him as she was slowly getting out of the tub, “Turn around I’m going to get out.”

“You show shame at the wrong time of the situation.”

“Watch if it would make you happy,” she has no emotion in her voice and he had never seen this side of her.

She was … naked… walking around … him … trying to induce him to sleep with her. What the hell was going on?

“Sevvy…” She said turning around to him pulling her hands through her hair closing her eyes in fake ecstasy, “Sevvy do you want to play… it’s all bitter pleasure love.”

‘Sevvy’ only one woman who ever dared to call him that in that particular tone, the only woman who was ever allowed to call him that – Bellatrix.

Hermione gave a mad ludicrous laugh, “Take me,” she told him.

Severus knew exactly what was happening at that moment. The dark lord gave Bellatrix an opportunity to play with his new toy. But how did Bellatrix know she was with him? Furthermore, they didn’t know he switched sides, what the hell was Bella trying to do?

“Belle, darling this isn’t funny, you’re playing a very dangerous game,” he said flatly playing along.

He never called her ‘Bella’ or ‘Bellatrix’, it was always ‘Belle’ – she liked it. When they were younger, before Bellatrix became psychotic, became a death eater and married one, they were good friends at Hogwarts. In his dark days, together, they were a force to be reckoned with. She always had multiple sides to her that most didn’t understand, including her husband; however, Severus did. She had the ability to be a sophisticated lady of stature, a sexual wild cat on the prowl, an intense scholar, and a cold killer with the stamina of a cheetah amongst many other things. Bellatrix Lestrange was definitely an interesting, if not, wicked woman, who was very dangerous. It was no wonder that she was the only female death eater in the inner circle … ever.

“I’m not Belle, I’m Hermione,” the nude woman before him said edging towards him licking her lips, “Sevvy…”

“Bellatrix, you are not amusing me, I don’t want to take the little brat, so don’t even try to tempt me into it,” he told her blankly. So there were many other things a Jadelisk could do, a new realization, Hermione could be completely taken over.

“Ooh Sevvy, you aren’t fun anymore. Take her; you know you want to fuck her. Hasn’t Dumbledore’s musings made you curious? Take her, feel her, and taste her. She won’t remember, and think of it as doing… me.”

The thoughts were disgusting to him.

Bellatrix Lestrange had lost her mind since she came out of Azkaban. She was insane and morbid when she entered and became even more deluded and dark when she came out.

“I have some standards Bella and I would rather not ‘fuck’ her you as you so nicely put it. So tell me…”

“Yes?” she said putting her hands on his hips pouting her lips.

“How are you ‘in’ her?” he asked carefully, “Can you always do it?”

Her faced changed from sexually playful to serious and blank again.

“Well no,” she said biting her bottom lip, “Only sometimes, when the mudblood forgets herself.”

“Forgets herself?” he asked.

“Sevvy I wanna play…” she whined.

“Belle,” he said silkily walking to her slipping his hands around her waist, “tell me.”

“Aw Sevvy, you know I have a soft spot when you use that tone with me,” she let out a low mad childish laugh.

“Are you going to tell me Bella darling,” he asked as he placed soft kisses down her neck.

“When she looses herself in her own thoughts … ugh …right there … leaving her mind unprotected, I can become her.”

He moved his mouth further down below her neck, Severus knew exactly how to make Bellatrix talk, his way, “Tell me more. Slitting her wrists Belle love?”

“I wasn’t going to make her slit them, well maybe I was, but no deep enough…” she said tossing her head back.

“Can you stay ‘in’ her long?” he asked between his kisses.

“When her conscious wakes up,” she told him moving down towards him.

“You’re a dark twisted angel Belle,” he said enunciating the last ‘el’ sound of her name for her, then he stopped cold, “Go back to Tom. Bellatrix, I’m not doing this with you.”

The moment was broken and she hissed at him almost trying to bite his lips snapping her teeth at him.

He stood her up; “No, no, no,” he said in a disconnected dangerous low voice, “What would Rudolph say?” using the shortened version of her husband’s name.

“He could never say anything Sevvy, remember he broke the rules when took Narcissa first.”

This woman was crazy. Pureblood Death Eaters were becoming more venomously sugared as time progressed – in more than one way.

“Bellatrix leave her,” he told her in his sharp voice. She wiggled out of his grip.

“Sevvy Baby don’t be mean, take me, take her she’s a mudblood, so long since you’ve had one…the fun…remember those days” her voice trailed off and her body fell to the floor.

Bellatrix was gone.

Severus grabbed one of his silk sheets of his bed in one fluid motion as he scooped her up from the floor taking the opportunity to look at her hips again. The mark was definitely there, the Jadelisk mark was there, glowing blood red.

“Hermione?” he whispered stroking her head covering her up.

She moved around a little and opened her eyes.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

He was holding her, in sheets, how did…she was naked…what in the world…

As if reading her mind seeing the alarm in her face, “He infiltrated your mind.”

She had a blank look of unknowingness on her face.

“The Dark Lord gave Bellatrix the opportunity to become you, to see what she could make you do, to see what she could tempt me to do.”

Hermione nodded then thought about it for a second, “Do I still tempt you?” her eyes innocent and trusting.

Severus decided to take this opportunity to be honest with her, “Always.”

She grabbed his face and made her lips meet his, making his hands momentarily let go of the sheets letting them slip down her body slightly.

He pulled away from her, “This was very wrong – the last time.”

“But what if I want …” she tried pulling him down to her again.

“You don’t want this,” Severus tried to convince her.

“But I do,” she said pulling his down to her lips again.

He stopped her, “No.”

Severus wrapped her back up again, placed her on his bed, snapped his fingers and she was clothed again, under his covers being propped up by pillows.

He was about to let go of her when she asked, “Hold me for a minute?”

He moved her over slightly on his bed, so that he could partly sit down.

She nudged closer to him, breathing his scent in. He knew she was doing it, he felt it and he let her.

Hermione watch as his breathing slowed down and she took one of hands and placed it on his heart. He looked down and watched as her hand moved in conjunction with his chest. He let her fingers slowly work their way up to his neck, behind his ear and to the back of his head.

She saw him close his eyes for a second when she reached behind his head tangling her fingers in his hair – straight, soft and smooth, not oily, silky.

She moved away from the pillows and faced him taking her other hand and letting her fingers brush his brows looking at them intently with her eyes.

He watched her watch him and he was about to speak when she cut him off in a sharp and raspy whisper “Is it enough not to use words. Must we always use words?”

He nodded and continued to gaze at her.

She didn’t try to kiss him again. She didn’t try to seduce him either. All she did was admire him.

He closed his eyes as his felt his finger roam over his face, her thumb grazing the line of his bottom lip, a butterfly kiss from her lips to his closed eyes – and then she stopped, and rested her arms heavily on his shoulders.

Severus opened his eyes to find her just staring at him with blank eyes. For one of the few times in a long time, he could not read her expression. He was puzzled and he was about to break their silence when she kissed him. Her eyes were open and her mouth sealed, just her lips barely touching his before pulling away completely.

Her eyes met his and then looked away.

Unsure of what to do with himself next, much less her, he slowly got up.

“Are you hungry?” he asked and before waiting for her to answer him, said a spell under his breath and food appeared on a floating try before her.

He took a seat on a chair next to his bed and just watched her eat, as he sipped a very hot cup of extremely strong brewed tea.

Where did his willpower come from he did not know, if this wasn’t pure love he did not know what else if could possibly be.

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She finished her meal and the tray disappeared.

He continued to sip his tea watching her carefully.

“I grow quite tired of all your little tricks Miss Granger, it’s not becoming of you and quite irritating,” he told her flat as a hot, dangerous iron letting out hot air.

She could have whacked him for that comment. But she decided to remain silent.

“Do you not think that I do not know your every move?” and with that last comment of his, it was her turn to raise a brow and remained silent still.

“I knew the minute you left the ground to go and visit that twit relation of yours, and I knew that you were thinking of going to Ireland, what did you think? You’d be a martyr for yourself? That we would wonder where you were and think the highest of your sacrifice?”

She remained silent and just listened to him for a change, it was not too often that he spoke and she was the mute one. It was an interesting change.

He continued, “I decided to wait and see how long your little escapade would last, quite frankly I’m surprised you lasted this long without m-” he was about to say ‘me’ in reference to himself, but stopped himself before the words could come out of his mouth and perhaps cause her to haul herself onto him and attempt to kill him for another brilliant comment.

“Without what?” she finally spoke.

“Without magic, yes I know you are muggle born, nonetheless you’re a witch regardless,” he covered.

“I used magic,” her statement was flat.

“I mean being around magic you silly little girl,” he was getting angry. He never ranted like a schoolboy, and he didn’t think he should ever have too – it was ridiculous.

“I’m not a silly little girl, thank you,” she spat at him.

“Then don’t bloody hell act like one, I’m in not mood for it,” he replied.

“Then don’t fucking deal with it, I didn’t ask for you, I didn’t want you to begin with, so if that’s the way you feel then fucking leave me the hell alone and all the worries and little traumas going on in that selfish, arrogant, good for nothing head of yours will cease!” she shouted.

“Silence!” he bellowed.

“I’m sure you really didn’t even know where I went to begin with, you must have read the note I left for Ron and Harry, or listened in on their conversations,” she didn’t back down.

“I know everything about you, when you eat, what you eat, when you sleep, who you sleep with-”

“I beg your pardon?” she lowered her voice, narrowed her eyes and her ‘hands-on’ approach of basic muggle instincts were ready to pounce and slap him right across the face for that one. She had no idea when she ever felt or was this violent, but this stupid man made her crazy!

“Wrong use of words,” he corrected himself, but his voice never loosing it nasty undertone.

“Then correct it,” she raised her head at him defiantly.

“I do not answer to you,” he growled, low and raspy.

“And I, do not answer to you!” she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him with much of the same anger he was looking at her with.

“And pray tell, who do you answer to?” he asked sarcastically, knowing very well what she was already going to say.

“No one besides myself, not now and not ever you. Your heart is blacker than ebony Severus Charles Alistair Winston Snape, and I was a fool to think that there could be some lightness in it enough to make me even want to include you in my life. I take it all back,” she held her voice in such passion and vengeance that he was taken aback by her words before getting even more angry.

“You are a little fool,” he spat out at her – she just used his full name acting like she was his mother, or wife for that matter.

She let out a frustrated, exhaled scream and attempted to get out of bed when his two hands shoved her back down.

“What are you doing?” she yelled.

“This discussion isn’t over yet Miss Granger,” he stated.

“I would hardly call this a discussion Professor Snape,” said Hermione.

He let go of her and she remained sitting on the bed, “If my heart is black Hermione, yours isn’t far away from it,” he hissed.

“What does that mean?” she inquired, she was calming down, but still very much so angry.

“Think about it,” was all he said.

“I’m not having this conversation,” it was her way of putting an end to the absurdity that had just taken place between them. It wasn’t even the verbal sparring that they use to do, now their conversations, if one would call them that, were degrading, low and hardly normal discussions at all.

“Then don’t, run away from it, like you do everything else in your shallow little life,” he hissed.

“I don’t run away from things,” she responded and was about to add another comment when he arched and eyebrow.

He was right and she had run away. It wasn’t going to happen again.

As she sat bewilderment, he sat back down on his chair, summoned another strong cup of tea, signed loudly and glared at her.

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“I was wondering,” she lay back in the bed and look up at him.

“Yes?” Severus asked.

“If you already knew I was missing and where I was, why didn’t you come looking for me – if it did bother you as much as you claim?” that question could not have been any more straightforward or blunt, even if she tried.

“Let us re-track Miss Granger, I do not, have not, will not and shall not ever answer to you, but under the circumstances perhaps I shall indulge you,” he answered monotonously.

“Well if you’re going to have that attitude all over again, I do believe I would rather not know,” she told him before continuing, “Sometimes, when I speak to you, I really do wish that I never made the decision to study potions in the first place. Then I wouldn’t be in this particular situation with the likes of you and your sarcastic, insufferable demeanor.”

Severus raised an eyebrow, “Are you finished?”

“For now,” her answered was short and quick.

He exhaled loudly.

“Well maybe not then, I know you didn’t ask, but I’m going to tell you anyways that the reason I left was because I can’t stand what happens to me when I’m around you. I don’t like it. Rather I hate it, I hate it greatly.”

“You talk too much, it is not becoming of you,” he slid in between her words.

“Furthermore, dear professor, I don’t like the fact that every single bloody time I ask you a direct and simple question you challenge it with something else, something cynical and low. And that, my dear is certainly, not becoming of you and is getting to strike another nerve within me every single time it happens. Which quite frankly is too damn often!”

“Finish yet?” He asked, it was another one of those times where she was too caught up in her ranting to notice how dangerously angry he was getting. No one ever spoke to him this way…twice… much less once and lived to tell the tale in one solid healthy piece.

“No. You treat me like a goddamn toy that you can just play with and have your way with and treat however you like, whenever you like regardless of my feelings. I’m not some doll that you can just toss around and swing over your shoulder whenever you want to. I have feelings you know.”

“I noticed,” he hissed.

“Good.”

“Finished?” he was trying to be polite.

“Why do you keep asking that? No! No! and No! again!” she was moving away from the backrest of pillows in her frustration edging closer to him.

He crossed his hands over his chest, still granting her the privilege of being on the only people ever given the opportunity to speak to him in that manner.

She groaned, “There you have that look on your face.”

She scowled at him and he narrowed his eyes are her.

“Pray tell, love, what look is that?” he asked.

“That look of – wait a moment – you …” she was awestruck by something.

Hermione sat back down on the bed facing him with the look of utmost shock on her face, frowning.

“I what? Hermione?” he questioned at the edge of beginning to worry.

“Dear Merlin,” she muttered, “you just called me ‘love’.”

He took a breath of relief; yes the girl was mad, definitely mad.

“I beg your pardon?” he spat as if he hasn’t comprehended what she said.

“It’s beneath you, you can’t,” she told him shaking her head, almost trying to convince him, and herself, that if he cared for her, even the smallest sense, that he wasn’t suppose to. But wasn’t that her goal all along? She wanted him to care for her.

“Miss Granger, I think I shall be the judge of what is beneath me or not,” he sighed, “You are not me, and cannot make that decision, no matter how keen you may think you are to make it.”

“I think I liked you better when you hated me. Then, we could would never been in these kind of situations, having these kinds of discussions.”

“I never hated you,” he muttered.

“Do you love me?” it was a simple, to the point, sweet question. It was all she wanted, much less, needed to know.

“I care,” that was his answer, as simple, to the point and not as sweet as her question.