Memories of Deception

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Snape woke sometime in the early hours of the morning to find himself lying on his back, the girl half-sprawled across his chest, one of her legs entwined with his. He lay still for a while, just enjoying the feel of her in his arms. He could feel her bushy hair tickling his shoulder and neck, and he lowered his head and sunk his nose into the curly strands before he could stop himself. Make the most of this while you can.

The smell of her hair was intoxicating, and it made him think back to the moment she'd been unbuttoning his coat and he'd first caught the scent of his own soap on her skin. A wave of possessiveness had engulfed him, and he'd been hard pressed to hold himself back from throwing her on the bed and burying himself inside her. Luckily he'd noticed her distress, although it had taken a little while before he'd trusted himself to speak and find out what was worrying her.

The girl shifted in his arms and rolled away, leaving him feeling cold and disappointed. Get a grip, he snarled inwardly. The girl will be out of here the moment she gets the chance, back into the arms of that idiotic red-head. Not that you'll likely be round to see that happen. Feeling maudlin, he acted on his sudden urge to look at her, reaching over quietly for his wand, and, checking that her breathing was still steady and deep, disillusioned one of the high windows.

Immediately, gentle moonlight bathed the room, throwing all the shadows to the dark corners, and the body of the young woman beside him into sharp relief. She didn't move as the light hit her. Snape watched her for a few moments, brooding silently. The sheets had slipped down off her arm, leaving her back uncovered from the waist up. Snape reached out slowly and lifted up hair higher up the pillow, exposing the nape of her neck. Her skin almost glowed in the soft white light, clear and unblemished, like the girl herself.

Foolish old man, he told himself. She'd never want you. And what would you do with her if you had her? She's not the sort of girl who would put up with coming second best to a memory.

But Lily walked away when she saw something she didn't like. This girl knows what you are, has experienced it first-hand, and yet still chooses to help you. Surely that means something?

No… I loved Lily, look how that turned out. Never again.

Snape continued to study the sleeping girl, running his eyes over the gentle curve of her waist, the skin at the crook of her neck that he knew was so soft beneath his mouth. He wanted to press his lips to it again, to hear her quiet moans as he did so. She was so perfect, so pure, despite what he had put her through. Too good for someone like him.

He glanced down at his chest, and ran a finger across one of the longer scars carved there as he compared his maimed body to hers. He was her opposite in every way. She was light and beauty, and he was all darkness. He'd have to be blind not to want her. Who wouldn't want something so lovely? He knew that if the Dark Lord prevailed he would do his best to keep her, provided he himself survived. The vows he hoped she would take would go a long way towards that end, although, of course, there were no guarantees.

Snape sighed quietly. Maybe it was his lot in life to want what could never be his. He couldn't lie to himself that he did want the girl, but he knew he would never be what she wanted or needed. It would be for the best that he didn't survive if the Dark Lord was defeated. At least then the girl would never have to face him again once this was all over.

He lifted his wand, and, with one last glance at her sleeping form, hid the window again. The room plunged into darkness once more. Snape carefully shifted on the bed, moving up behind her close enough to smell the light perfume of her hair, but not near enough that they were touching.

He knew he would have to start being firmer with the girl. He had told himself this countless time, and yet had not managed to take his own advice yet. The Dark Lord was already suspicious, and Snape knew he was treating her far better than someone in her position could expect, despite constantly warning himself to be harder on her.

His mind kept returning to the way she had touched him with her hands and her mouth. He'd felt himself losing control and he'd had to stop her quickly and take charge of the situation. She had got under his skin so quickly, bringing out feelings he'd kept buried and frozen deep within. It was putting both their lives in danger. If the Dark Lord realised that he felt anything for the girl beyond disgust at her blood heritage, he would likely be dead, and the girl would probably wish for the same before too long.

He needed to push the girl away again, yet he still needed her to want him enough to make the next vow. Snape lay quietly in the dark for a while longer, trying to decide on the best course of action. Whatever he ended up doing would of course be painful for the girl, especially until the potion she had recently taken began to wear off, but it would be necessary. They were running out of time.

His focus was constantly interrupted by stray thoughts of the girl. Lying so close beside her, with her light scent surrounding him, the warmth from her body caressing him, he found himself growing hard. Maybe he should just take her now, claim her and do whatever he wished with her. The Dark Lord had given her to him, after all. She wasn't exactly in a position where she would refuse him anything. You promised her… you said you wouldn't take advantage.

Snape tried to take his mind off what he wanted to do to the girl by forcing it back to the problem at hand. Before long he had decided what he would do. Finally felt his arousal abating, although he knew it wouldn't take much for it to reappear. Still, he couldn't stop himself from moving closer to the girl and tugging the sheets up over her cold skin, before wrapping his arms around her once more.

He nuzzled gently at the back of her neck, breathing in the heady mix of his own scent blended with hers. He knew his behaviour was directly at odds with the course of action he would have to follow, starting in the morning. What she doesn't know can't hurt. Her presence in his arms was soothing, and he soon found himself drifting back off to sleep. His last thoughts before he succumbed were of how pleasant it was to hold her, and wishing he could spend every night the same way.