Behind a Death Eater's Mask
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
6,842
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
6,842
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 3
A/N: I still don\'t own Snape. Or any of the other wonderful characters. This chapter will still not have any smut but it has snape showing emotion. I tried my hardest to keep him in character. Tell me if you think I managed to do it. I personally can\'t stand an O/C Snape. =P Please R&R.
~Chapter 3~
Professor Snape slowly pulled his mask from his face and placed it on the edge of his desk. Why was he always such a bastard? He reached out to her and as his finger tips grazed her shoulder she jerked away, only sobbing harder. This time he was not as gentle as he grabbed her upper arm. The look on her face made him cringe inside. He had seen this look before on several other girls at those Dark Revels, a look of absolute terror. This time though there would be no pain or fear to follow. Snape pulled her up to a sitting position, then slid her across the desk toward him, her legs pulled up against his chest. As he tried to wrap his arms around her she growled as she pushed against him trying, struggling to the very end. He used his wirey strength and simply held her in place, she soon lost all of the fight left in her and went limp like a ragdoll in his arms.
He leaned her far enough back to be able to look her in the face. Her eyes were blank as she looked down and to the left. She reminded him of a dog that had been beaten into submission. Almost as if she had accepted whatever hand fate was about to deal her. Her loud sobs had been replaced by the occasional quiet wimper as the tears rolled silently down her cheeks.
He had reduced her to this state, which was exactly the opposite of how he had imagined things going. Guilt flared up in his chest, he had been hoping she would hex him into oblivion or at the least, slap him across the face before storming from his office. He had not expected this reaction.
Hermione\'s face was flushed, her nose had become red and her lips full from the tears she now cried. He watched her for a moment noting how beautiful she really was. Of course he had observed earlier in the year as classes had started up and again as she so brazenly thrust her assests in his face that night, that she had finally grown into her akward, gangly body. He had quickly quelched those thoughts though, refusing to be any more corrupt than he already was. She was merely a student and he a professor.
He reached into one of his pockets hidden amongst all the layers of his cloak and pulled out a handkerchief. He held it in front of her face for a few moments. When she did not respond he cleared his throat and spoke.
\"Miss Granger, I did not want to hurt you. That was not my intent. I merely wanted to show you that I am not someone to be sought out. I have done several things in my life that are unforgivable, I was meant to be alone in this life. I knew that when I became a spy. I must lead a solitary life, anyone I care for or cares for me is in danger. Voldemort will use whatever means necessary to gain power and information. If he knew you had feelings for me you would become a target. That is why I tried, and failed miserably I might add, to get you to flee from this place never to return. Do you understand?\"
Hermione\'s gaze gradually moved to the handkerchief, still not looking him in the eye. She took it from him and blew her nose as a few stray tears slide down her face. She dried them with the back of her hand as she placed the soggy, handkerchief back in his hand.
Hermione drapped her legs over the edge of the desk, placing one on either side of him but she continued to look down at his feet as she softly began to speak. \"I understand that you are too hard on yourself, and that you refuse to let anyone close for fear they will hurt you. I understand you have a dark past and a dim outlook on your future. I\'ve known all this for years and that is why I admire you. You continue to spy and fight for our side even though you suffer a great deal at the hands of the Dark Lord. You are truly amazing in my eyes.\"
With this Hermione raised her face up, placed her arms about his neck and closed the space between them placing a soft, chaste kiss on his lips.
He was unsure of how to respond, had she matured this much in such a short span of time. She had obviously spent a great deal of time thinking about this. He admitted this was not the average school girl crush. He was suddenly saddened that so many students, including Hermione, would not have the chance to truly enjoy their childhoods. This war would harden them before their time and they would be forced into their adult lives just as he had once been. His mind was racing with the possible out comes. Was this an avenue he was prepared to explore. Once he passed the bounds here, there was no looking back. He could easily push her from him and throw her from his quarters, knowing full well that it would crush her but she would go on to live up to her full potential, without him there to hold her back. Or he could give cave into his desire to be with her, to finally love and be loved in return, to try to live out a normal life if they made it through the impending war. If he were to give in he knew how likely it was that this would end poorly and he would be left holding her broken and battered body on the battlefield. All in all the outlook was grim, many lives would be lost on that fateful day. Could he live with himself if she left from this room and they never found out where things could have gone? Could he live with himself if she was captured and tortured by Voldemort because of him? Could he live with himself if she died out on the field knowing that she might possibly have survived if he had been there to protect her?
All these thoughts swirled through his head as her small, warm body was pressed against his, her slender fingers wrapped in his hair. For tonight, he cold no longer refuse his first instinct, to take hold of her and never let go. He could not bear the thought of being alone tonight, he had withstood many dark nights alone and he could no longer take the solitude.
~Chapter 3~
Professor Snape slowly pulled his mask from his face and placed it on the edge of his desk. Why was he always such a bastard? He reached out to her and as his finger tips grazed her shoulder she jerked away, only sobbing harder. This time he was not as gentle as he grabbed her upper arm. The look on her face made him cringe inside. He had seen this look before on several other girls at those Dark Revels, a look of absolute terror. This time though there would be no pain or fear to follow. Snape pulled her up to a sitting position, then slid her across the desk toward him, her legs pulled up against his chest. As he tried to wrap his arms around her she growled as she pushed against him trying, struggling to the very end. He used his wirey strength and simply held her in place, she soon lost all of the fight left in her and went limp like a ragdoll in his arms.
He leaned her far enough back to be able to look her in the face. Her eyes were blank as she looked down and to the left. She reminded him of a dog that had been beaten into submission. Almost as if she had accepted whatever hand fate was about to deal her. Her loud sobs had been replaced by the occasional quiet wimper as the tears rolled silently down her cheeks.
He had reduced her to this state, which was exactly the opposite of how he had imagined things going. Guilt flared up in his chest, he had been hoping she would hex him into oblivion or at the least, slap him across the face before storming from his office. He had not expected this reaction.
Hermione\'s face was flushed, her nose had become red and her lips full from the tears she now cried. He watched her for a moment noting how beautiful she really was. Of course he had observed earlier in the year as classes had started up and again as she so brazenly thrust her assests in his face that night, that she had finally grown into her akward, gangly body. He had quickly quelched those thoughts though, refusing to be any more corrupt than he already was. She was merely a student and he a professor.
He reached into one of his pockets hidden amongst all the layers of his cloak and pulled out a handkerchief. He held it in front of her face for a few moments. When she did not respond he cleared his throat and spoke.
\"Miss Granger, I did not want to hurt you. That was not my intent. I merely wanted to show you that I am not someone to be sought out. I have done several things in my life that are unforgivable, I was meant to be alone in this life. I knew that when I became a spy. I must lead a solitary life, anyone I care for or cares for me is in danger. Voldemort will use whatever means necessary to gain power and information. If he knew you had feelings for me you would become a target. That is why I tried, and failed miserably I might add, to get you to flee from this place never to return. Do you understand?\"
Hermione\'s gaze gradually moved to the handkerchief, still not looking him in the eye. She took it from him and blew her nose as a few stray tears slide down her face. She dried them with the back of her hand as she placed the soggy, handkerchief back in his hand.
Hermione drapped her legs over the edge of the desk, placing one on either side of him but she continued to look down at his feet as she softly began to speak. \"I understand that you are too hard on yourself, and that you refuse to let anyone close for fear they will hurt you. I understand you have a dark past and a dim outlook on your future. I\'ve known all this for years and that is why I admire you. You continue to spy and fight for our side even though you suffer a great deal at the hands of the Dark Lord. You are truly amazing in my eyes.\"
With this Hermione raised her face up, placed her arms about his neck and closed the space between them placing a soft, chaste kiss on his lips.
He was unsure of how to respond, had she matured this much in such a short span of time. She had obviously spent a great deal of time thinking about this. He admitted this was not the average school girl crush. He was suddenly saddened that so many students, including Hermione, would not have the chance to truly enjoy their childhoods. This war would harden them before their time and they would be forced into their adult lives just as he had once been. His mind was racing with the possible out comes. Was this an avenue he was prepared to explore. Once he passed the bounds here, there was no looking back. He could easily push her from him and throw her from his quarters, knowing full well that it would crush her but she would go on to live up to her full potential, without him there to hold her back. Or he could give cave into his desire to be with her, to finally love and be loved in return, to try to live out a normal life if they made it through the impending war. If he were to give in he knew how likely it was that this would end poorly and he would be left holding her broken and battered body on the battlefield. All in all the outlook was grim, many lives would be lost on that fateful day. Could he live with himself if she left from this room and they never found out where things could have gone? Could he live with himself if she was captured and tortured by Voldemort because of him? Could he live with himself if she died out on the field knowing that she might possibly have survived if he had been there to protect her?
All these thoughts swirled through his head as her small, warm body was pressed against his, her slender fingers wrapped in his hair. For tonight, he cold no longer refuse his first instinct, to take hold of her and never let go. He could not bear the thought of being alone tonight, he had withstood many dark nights alone and he could no longer take the solitude.