The long and winding road to love

Chapter 23: Cruel intentions





Hey! I just
wanted to thank you all for your amazing reviews! Thanks! But I am in trouble,
people. My beta reader quitted and I a des desperate need of a new one. Anyone
interested? Contact me at florenceweasleysnape@yahoo.co.uk


 

Oh, well… Here
it is…chapter 23… enjoy!

 

Chapter 23:
Cruel intentions

 

It was very early that morning when Severus Snape woke up
completely covered in Hermione’s black sheets. He could remember nothing, but the
fact that he was fully dressed relaxed him: he hadn’t raped her; they hadn’t
had any physical encounter.

 

“It is better that way,” he said to himself while slowly standing
up, trying not to wake her up. Unfortunately for him, he failed to do so, “Miss
Granger,” he said, standing straight, “care to explain why you didn’t lock your
door?” he asked.

 

“Of course,” she said, cursing herself while pushing the covers
aside. But then she remembered the events of the night before and suddenly
every word coming from his mouth made a lot more sense; he was protecting her,
“I was so tired that I forgot, Severus. You must have crawled to my bed while I
was asleep because you did not wake me,” she answewhilwhile covering herself
with a black robe, a school robe, which she had received as a wedding gift; she
was ready to go. 

 

“You have no idea of the effecf thf the potion you applied on my
wound, Miss Granger. I see now that I overestimated your knowledge in potions.
Your actions depicted recklessness and you should be ashamed of yourself. Do
you understand the risks of unlocking your door when a person under the
influence of such a powerful potion is next door?” he asked in a very loud
tone, something uncharacteristic of him.

 

“I am truly sorry,” was all she said while, apparently, looking
for something in the carpet, “May I go now?” she asked shyly. She didn’t want
to stay in the room a minute longer. She knew she needed to reflect upon his
words, which had had a tremendous impact on her tormented soul.

 

He nod He He could only nod. What if he had confessed his plans
or his real feelings or his true fears? She would be in danger if he had. He
had been even more irresponsible than she; he should have bled to death instead
of letting her apply the potion.

 
en sen she left, he rapidly collapsed onto her bed unconsciously
smelling her scent on the pillows and thinking of the nice times they had
shared. It was a pity, however, that those times would never come back. Their
happiness was as doomed as were their lives but if he could save her- and he
would- his life wouldn’t have been a complete waste.

 

Yes. She would live. They were not going to hurt her. Death was coming his way anyway.

 

Hermione, however, took a different path and tidying her black
school robes which covered her muggle clothes, left Severus’ Chambers- her
Chambers, in fact- secretly planning to head towards the Great Hall for
breakfast. It was quite early though and she knew she would be the only one
requesting a cup of tea but the idea did not quite discourage her. On the
contrary, she could use the time to read a bit more and cete ete her assignment
on Arithmancy.

 

The problem was that a boy with blond hair was waiting for her at
the very end of the corridor.

 

“I knew it; she is a typical Gryffindor girl. She even wakes up
early,” Draco said to himself while evilly smiling about what was to come.

 

He had been standing there for more than forty minutes now,
silently waiting for her to wake up and head to the Great Hall for an early
breakfast. And finally she had, just as he expected her to. She was such a
predictable Gryffindor Know-it-all. He was going to follow daddy’s advice and
try to trick her into his bed and thus get vital information for the Death
Eaters. His father always said Dumbledore was the worst Headmaster Hogwarts had
ever had and if the old man died and his father became the new headmaster- or
the new Minister of Magic- he would have limitless power. And make no mistake:
Draco loves power.

 

“Good morning,” he whispered into her ear while dragging her to
the spot in which he had been waiting for her to show up, “Can we have a little
chat?” he asked while wrapping his hands around her slender waist. Her books
lay now on the floor.

 

“With you, Malfoy?” she asked while taking his hands in hers and
depositing them on his own robe pockets, “I think not,” was all she said and
kneeling in front of him she started collecting her books.

 

“Little Mudblood I thought you enjoyed my company,” he said laughing
sarcastically, “I thought you fancied my caresses. The other day you kept
begging for more. Shall I remove your knickers this time?” he asked laughing
like mad.

 

Hermione was not only blushing but also irritated at him. She
shouldn’t have let him touch her under her clothes. She knew it was a mistake
from the start but the only way to access the inner circle of the Death Eaters
was through the Malfoy’s and she knew that Draco was inexperienced and thus an
easier target than Malfoy Senior.

 

“That has nothing to do with it,” she answered under her breath
for only him to hear, “listen to me; I am a married woman, Malfoy. I cannot
risk my reputation or my marriage playing silly little games with you. I love
my husband,” she explained while tidying her robes once again.

 

“You have an odd marriage,” he said more seriously this time, “You
obviously loved him all a and and so, why did you let me touch you the other
night knowing perfectly well that he was in the other room?” he enquired.

 

“That’s quite simple,” she said, trying to seek for an answer in
her brain,was was playing with your little brain, Malfoy. Is not you who I
desire. Is Severus. He likes to hear me moan with
pleasure,” she concluded.

 

“You stupid little Mudblood. I
still cannot believe that Professor Snape found you attractive enough or
interesting enough to have sex with you not to mention marry you. No Gryffindor
rejects me. I am going to have you!” he shouted, hugging her tightly so she
wouldn’t escape.

 

“Get off of me,” she commanded, but he wasn’t planning on
following orders from a little Mudblood like Hermione Granger. He’d better die.


 

“You liked this the other night,” he said while inserting a hand
through her robes and introducing it under her skirt to play with her once shaved
curls.

 

“Malfoy, please,” she shouted, nailing his arm as much as she
possibly could. He was touching her in places where she didn’t want to be
touched; he was touching her in a place that belonged only to Severus, her
husband, his partner in crime.

 

Severus had been thinking about Hermione for ten minutes when he
heard her shouting a name he despised more than his own: “Malfoy”. She was in
trouble. And so when he heard her shout the twit’s name one tim time he lost
control of his actions and started running towards the exit and into the
corridor where he found Hermione in the floor with Malfoy over her, forcing her
wrists with both his hands.

 

“Mr. Malfoy,” he shouted, “Could you please take your filthy hands
off my wife?” he shouted loosing all control. He was red with anger and his
fists were tightly closed at either sides of his body, “How dare you touch my
wife?”

  “Pr “Professor, I was just trying to please her as she requested,” was
all he said standing straight like a soldier in the army.

 

“I am very disappointed in you, and your father will know about
this, Draco,” he threatened, “Neither my wife nor I want to stand your presence
a minute longer,” he said and casting one last look of hate on Draco Malfoy,
the only son of Narcissa and Lucius ran to the Slytherin Common Room where he
would tell no one about his adventure but his father. Yes. His fr wor would
know everything about this.

&nb
A
At the other end he dhe dungeons, however, Severus Snape was
carrying Hermione Granger, her wife, to her own chambers.

 

“He will not hurt you,” he promised while kissing her forehead.

 

“What kind of remark is that?” she asked, wrapping her arms around
his neck. She was not used to this kind of love demonstrations.

 

“He will never touch you again,” he said and then added, “because you belong to me,” he sentenced.

 

That was all it took for Hermione to understand the real nature of
his feelings. He was in love and love is not something you can hide at leisure;
sometimes love cannot be hiden and real feelings
blossom on the lover’s skins like beautiful flowers in spring. Yes. He was in
love. And so was she.

 

She leaned forward and wrapping her arms around his neck even
firmer, she kissed his lips, which tasted like wild honey. They deepened the
kiss and their tongues rustled with passion in the other’s mouth. When he
finally reached her room and threw her to her bed to desperately destroy the
robe covering her beautiful nabodybody, he comprehended that love is more than
just making love or being happy. Love is all about sacrifice. And even though
he wanted to penetrate her and cover her body with kisses that depicted love
and lust, he did not.

 

“I think you should rest until the afternoon. I will owl your
professors telling them of your absence,” he said a w a wise smile.

 

“I love you,” she said from the bed but although he listened to
every word she said, he refused to accept the fact that a beautiful creature
such as Hermione loved him. Because loving him would mean her death. And he
wanted nothing more than to see her alive, so he closed the door without saying
anything else.
sp; sp;

Was there any point in telling her that he loved her as well? Love
complicates things. It was better for him to clear his mind of love especially
because the Headmaster needed to be informed about Malfoy’s plans to murder him
and having Hermione’s constant memory plastered on his mind was as troubling as
was delicious. 

 

Love, my friends, can be the most powerful feeling of all and it
can destroy as much as it can produce. It was important, therefore, not to
love; to erase the happy memories, to erase the amazing feelings she created on
his chest for difficult times were ahead and only those with a strong heart
would manage to survive the evil.