Inside the Blackest Heart (Edit, Not Update)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 41 ~ A Solution to the Dilemma


“I’m sure I don’t know what you intend to do, Miss Granger,” Snape replied

She looked at him hard for a moment, then sighed.

“Even though I know you wouldn’t hesitate to force your will on me, Professor…I can’t bring myself to do such a thing to you, as deserving as you are of a taste of your own brew. My whole life in the wizarding world was based on manipulation. That is why I am in the situation I am now, because I wanted to be free of it."

"You’ve had to serve others against your will for years, and told me your only desire is to be free of Masters. I won’t become another one to you, no matter how tempting it is. It isn’t right to take away another’s freedom of choice, especially for selfish reasons."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "I suppose if I want to know what it is to have a man treat me with gentleness during sex, I could seek out another deatheater, maybe one who is married. He would have been tender with his wife. I could ask him to be as tender with me as he would be with her."

Snape looked at her. Another deatheater? He felt an unpleasant tightening in his chest as he watched her considering letting another man fuck her. It was her right of course. He certainly didn’t have any qualms about fucking other women, and in fact had indulged himself since breaking the Primordial in, without any guilt. But it bothered him that she thought another man could give her what he couldn’t. It cut right into his ego.

Hermione summoned the house elves. They winked in, smiling until they saw Snape. They began to quiver with fear.

“What’s wrong?” she asked them.

The elves didn’t reply. They simply looked at Snape with flattened ears and continued to shake. Snape didn’t help. He fixed both the elves with his blackest scowl.

Hermione turned to look at the Potions Master.

“Stop scaring them!” she said to him irritatedly, ”they’re my servants and I don’t want them feeling menaced. Now, stop Professor.”

Snape looked at her, and set his face in a neutral expression, though his eyes still glinted at the elves a bit.

“He’s not going to hurt you,” Hermione said soothingly to the elves, “I won’t let anyone hurt you in my presence. I promise you.”

The two elves stopped trembling so violently.

“H-how may we be of service, Miss?” Hansel asked, his eyes still flicking toward Snape.

“I was wondering if you could get me a list of married male deatheaters. Preferably those whose wives are not servants of the Dark Lord,” she said. “The most recently married listed first.”

Hansel looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Yes, Miss. We can do that,” he said.

“Well please do, as soon as possible,” Hermione said, smiling at him.

The elves winked out. Severus’ scowl returned to his face. She was really going to do this. And in her normal, calculating way. If the wives weren’t servants of the Dark Lord, more than likely they did not have the twisted sexuality of deatheater females, so their husbands would have to relate to them in a ‘normal’ fashion, so were capable of being gentle, thoughtful lovers.

“Doesn’t it bother you that you are thinking of sleeping with a married man?” he asked tightly.

“Not really. They all participate in the Revels I imagine. I’m not so big on guilt as I used to be, Professor. My needs are more important to me then they once were, particularly since I might not be on earth much longer,” she replied non-chalantly, surprising herself.

“So what do you plan to do once you get this list?” Snape asked her, his eyes hard as diamonds.

Hermione sat on the sofa.

“Ask Voldemort to summon the ones I am considering, and have interviews with them. I’ll pick the one that appeals to me the most,” she said, “plus it will give me something interesting to do.”

Hermione was reverting to her research mode. She still clung to the idea that everything could be sorted out logically. Even choosing a deatheater to fuck.

“Don’t you think it could be the aura of this place making you want to do this?” Snape asked, his brow furrowing, “the Dark Lord’s carnality spell could be affecting you.”

“It could be, Professor. But I’m curious to see what it is like to be made love to, instead of being fucked within an inch of my life. I’d like to know what it would be like to be kissed all over, to be touched and caressed…to have real foreplay, something other than unresolved lust like I had with you. I would be curious about that even without the influence of the spell. Of course I am hoping for a powerful lover when it comes to the act itself, because that is what I like, but one who will take time to make me feel beautiful and wanted.”

“I make you feel wanted,” Snape said, his voice low, “you can’t say I don’t.”

Hermione gave him a small, tight smile.

“Yes you do, Professor. You make it very clear that you want to get inside me. But with you I might as well be one big orifice than a woman. You are only interested in dominating me and using my body as thoroughly as possible. You know that, Professor. It’s the way you are. I don’t blame you for that. I just want to experience something more than a good hard fucking,” she said. “The only way I could do that with you is to order it. And I won’t do that. This is my only other option. Let’s face it Professor, you aren’t versatile enough to meet my every need. You are simply too selfish.”

Snape felt insulted. He made her climax, didn’t he? Numerous times, too. All the rest of what she was referring to all really led up to that, to the orgasm. He just went directly to the objective. To get pleasure from her body, come and make her come. Yes, he was selfish, but he was thorough enough that she wasn’t left behind. He continued to scowl.

“You don’t look happy about this, Professor,” she observed, her amber eyes narrowed slightly. Was he jealous? No, he couldn’t be. He shared women with other deatheaters all the time. He had made it plain to her that to him she was just like any other woman.

“I just think it’s foolish. I can give you what you need, Miss Granger,” he said, frowning at her. “I know what you need.”

“No, you think you know what I need. I just told you I needed more than you can give me, Professor,” Hermione said tightly. “Anyway, you suggested I find another deatheater to fuck me. You said it would be safer,” she retorted.

He just looked at her. It was true. He had planned to give her the ride of her life if he got hold to her, but he never dreamed she’d actually consider taking on another wizard. He realized he didn’t want anyone else to fuck her. He had no right to feel that way, and he didn’t have any particular affection for her…but he was the first one to do her. She was a Primordial, destined to be the most powerful witch in existence and only he had touched her. That pleased him as well as elevated him in the eyes of others. Even the Dark Lord envied him. If he let Miss Granger fuck another deatheater, he would lose his status. No doubt she would lose something too.

The Dark Lord would probably target her immediately if he found out she was looking for another lover. As cold as he was, even Snape wouldn’t wish that on the witch. Voldemort was a true deviant, and a chance to dominate a Primordial would bring out the worst in him. By the time he was finished with her, Miss Granger would probably have taken a Wizard’s Oath to serve him in order to stop the pain. A Primordial probably would be as bound by the Oath as an ordinary wizard or witch, since it too was primal magic. Plus, he didn’t want to take the chance she wasn’t yet strong enough to protect herself from Voldemort if placed in that position.

Snape was not a wizard to make concessions. But in this case, it was in his own self-interest to do so. What she wanted went against his nature, but if she followed the path she was on, eventually Voldemort would have her in a position that could ruin his plans for good. If playing the attentive lover would help him reach his ultimate goal, then that’s what he’d do. At least it was his choice. He took a deep breath.

“Miss Granger, I wish you would reconsider this idea,” he said to her.

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Because…because…I would be willing to do what you want done,” Snape replied, looking very put out about his concession.

“You look like someone’s twisting your arm, Professor,” Hermione commented on the pained look on his face, “why the turn around?”

“Suffice it to say, Miss Granger, that you have made me feel rather inadequate,” Snape lied, “I think that I can supply the extras you need to feel…fulfilled. All I need is the opportunity.”

Hermione cocked her head at him.

“You just don’t want anyone else to have me,” she said, her eyebrows raised.

“This is true. You afford me some status among the ranks, Miss Granger. If another deatheater were to have you, that status would be lost,” he said. Well, it was a partial truth. No need to put her more on edge by telling her what her search for another deatheater would mean to Voldemort.

“So, your motive is purely selfish, rather than just giving in to what I want,” she mused.

“Yes. Exactly, Miss Granger. I am willing to ‘take time’ as you said. That in turn should sate your curiosity. And as to your wish for a powerful lover during the act, we both know where we stand there,” he said smoothly.

He could still fuck the shit out of her afterwards. It made the concession easier to take.

“And you would kiss me?” she asked him, her amber eyes searching his face, “Caress me? Give me real foreplay?”

Snape sighed.

“Yes, Miss Granger. All the little nuances that go along with this kind of thing,” he replied.

Hermione snickered at the way he said “this kind of thing” as if it were totally distasteful. But he was willing even if for his own reasons, and wasn’t a stranger to her. That would have been the only hitch about having sex with another man. And she knew he met her need for domination.

Hansel winked back in, holding a rather long list in his claw.

“I have the list you asked for Miss. There are over two hundred deatheaters that meet your specifications,” the elf said, holding the list out to her. Hermione took it and looked it over. Snape tensed a bit. Was she still going to go through with this madness?

“Thank you, Hansel. You may go,” she said to the elf, who smiled with delight at being thanked again. He winked out.

Hermione eyed Snape again.

“Do you even know how to kiss?” she asked him.

Snape snorted indignantly.

“Of course I know how to kiss. I wasn’t always a deatheater,” he spat.

Hermione looked doubtful.

“Yes, but you’ve been a deatheater longer than you haven’t been one,” she responded. “You may have forgotten how to kiss a woman with…tenderness,” she replied.

Snape stalked over to the sofa she was sitting on.

“Stand up,” he said, his eyes hard.

Hermione took a little too long, so he yanked her up by her arm.

He stared down at her, anger written all over his pale face, his black eyes glinting. Hermione thought he couldn’t possibly be gentle or tender looking like he was.

But she was wrong.

Snape leaned and captured her lips in a soft, warm kiss, gently sucking on her lower lip, then moving his mouth against hers slowly and sensually. Hermione closed her eyes against the sweetness, and felt warmth spreading throughout her body. He pulled away, looking at her with the same hardness in his black eyes. Hermione swayed toward him a bit, before opening her eyes.

“Wow,” she said, looking at him and wanting another kiss, “How about open-mouth kisses? Are you good at those, too?”

Snape considered the witch, and smirked.

“You will have to see when we commence on your little fantasy, Miss Granger. I am not about to start something that won’t be finished…unless, you want this now,” he said, moving closer to her, his body barely touching hers.

She could feel his body heat through his robes, and felt like she was melting. But if this were going to happen, she wanted plenty of time for it to unfold. Tonight would be better. She backed away from him with some difficultly.

“No…tonight,” she said a little breathlessly. Snape lifted an eyebrow.

“Very well, then. Tonight, Miss Granger,” he said. Then he looked at the list in her hand.

“What do you intend on doing with that list? You have no need of it now,” he said.

Hermione smiled at him wickedly.

“I’m going to keep it, just in case you can’t deliver,” she responded.

He leaned toward her so his lips were close to her ear.

“Oh, I will deliver all right, Miss Granger. Let’s just hope you can receive the package,” he whispered silkily, his warm breath tickling her ear.

He drew back and looked down at her. Hermione felt wetness trickling between her thighs.

Snape smirked knowingly at her, turned in a billow of robes and exited her rooms.

Hermione stared after him.

She didn’t think tonight would come fast enough.

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A/N: Okay. I mixed several ideas together in this chapter. I went with Hermione not forcing Snape, and she gave the reasons why. Then I played with the “other deatheater” idea. Then I went to Snape’s decision to go ahead and do what she wanted, and why (he actually does have good selfish reasons to do so) and came up with an upcoming lemon that has the potential to be both tender and brutal. So, thanks all. I hope the chapter was satisfactory. Please review.