#3 ~ You Shouldn\'t Walk About in the Dark
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
20,279
Reviews:
60
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Snape/Hermione
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
20,279
Reviews:
60
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
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.
It Ends Now
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR. All situations are my own.
**************************
Chapter 5 ~ It Ends Now
“Who took your virginity?” the deatheater inquired, interest in his queer voice.
Sniffing, Hermione replied, “Severus.”
“Did he seduce you?”
“No. Not really.”
“Tell me what happened. Now this sounds like a story.”
“It isn’t much. I developed…feelings for him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He was dark, and mysterious. Untouchable. Cruel. A hero.”
“He treated you like a mudblood, didn’t he?”
“Yes, I suppose so. But he never called me one. And he had his reasons.”
The deatheater considered her. “Reasons you didn’t know about. And after all those years of mistreatment by him, you ended up wanting him to fuck you. Ended up letting him fuck you. Sounds like low self-esteem to me.”
“Fuck you!” Hermione spat venomously.
The deatheater gave an ugly chuckle and said, “I’d watch that. I could very well fuck you if I chose, though I don’t think it would mean much after constantly having thirteen inches of cock shoved in every hole you have. I would have to resort to other methods of causing you pain…I don’t think you would find them much of a turn-on.”
He fingered the blade meaningfully. Hermione blanched.
The deatheater’s eyes raked across her body.
“Anyway, I’m curious about something,” he said.
The deatheater approached the bed. Leaning over her, he began to unfasten her jeans.
“No!” Hermione screamed, arching up and pulling at her bonds desperately.
He brought the tip of the dagger to her throat and pressed in the tip just enough to hurt, but didn’t break the skin. She stilled.
“Good girl,” he said, “now where was I?”
He laid the dagger on the bed. With his gloved hands, he opened the button, and zipped down the zipper. Hermione clenched her jaw against screaming as he tugged on her pants, but she was spread-eagle, so he couldn’t lower them. Hissing in exasperation, he finally cut them off of her, tossing them to the floor.
Hermione lay there bare-breasted, in her comfortable cotton briefs or granny panties as they are known in muggle circles. She rarely wore anything overtly sexy, though she had a couple of matching bra and panty sets. Severus never took much time to appreciate her undergarments. It was what was under them that had his full attention.
The deatheater took the tip of his dagger and put it in the crotch of her panties, moving them aside so he could see her sex. Hermione couldn’t remember ever feeling such shame and humiliation.
He took a deep breath. His strange, undulating voice sounded unsteady. “Very pretty,” he said, looking down, “you would think after going through all that cock, it would be a bit beat up. Wore out,” he licked his lips, “Loose.”
He let the cotton crotch snap back, covering her.
“But he is a Potions Master after all. I imagine he fixes you back up when he’s done with you,” he quipped.
Hermione didn’t answer him, still appalled at what just happened. She prayed he wouldn’t rape her…she wouldn’t be able to stand his touch.
“You’re not even wet,” the deatheater observed, sitting back down in the chair.
“Why would I be wet? This is not the least bit arousing. Neither are you,” Hermione snapped.
“I thought masochists got off on being threatened…that the threat of pain got their juices flowing,” he mused, twirling the dagger in his hand.
“I guess it depends on who is doing the threatening. And there’s only one kind of pain that excites me.”
“And that’s associated with Snape’s cock I take it,” the deatheater said, his voice low and resonate.
“Exactly.”
The deatheater leaned forward. Hermione was sure a leer was hidden behind the shifting spell on his face.
“I’m almost tempted to test that theory. What if I fingered you a little. Think you’d get wet for me? Come for me?”
Nausea welled up in Hermione’s belly.
“I’d rather you kill me,’ she said, her eyes cold.
“Even if I said I’d spare your life? Send you back to Snape damp, but whole and intact?”
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.
The deatheater frowned under his mask. “Do you have any idea how much pain I could cause you before you die? I could cut your flesh from your body an inch at a time. Fuck you with this blade…”
He twisted the knife so it flashed.
Hermione was afraid, but she didn’t want this man to touch her. She already felt mentally raped. If she let him do this to her, she’d never, ever feel clean again. She’d wish for death.
Sorry Severus, my love.
“Do what you have to do, then. I won’t come for you. I won’t try. I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Do you think that Snape would want you to die, for something as insignificant as this?”
“He’d understand.”
“Would he?”
“Yes.”
The deatheater sighed.
“You are either very brave or very stupid. It seems Snape has you tied up body and soul. You’re willing to die rather than give yourself to another man. And he’s never even told you he loves you. How he managed to have someone so loyal love him is beyond me. Very well, you’ve made your choice. Say goodbye.”
The deatheater reached in his pocket and extracted his wand.
“Less mess this way,” he said shortly, and pointed it at Hermione.
Everything went black.
*****************************
A/N: wow. Hermione’s certainly a woman of conviction. Gryffindor all the way...
**************************
Chapter 5 ~ It Ends Now
“Who took your virginity?” the deatheater inquired, interest in his queer voice.
Sniffing, Hermione replied, “Severus.”
“Did he seduce you?”
“No. Not really.”
“Tell me what happened. Now this sounds like a story.”
“It isn’t much. I developed…feelings for him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He was dark, and mysterious. Untouchable. Cruel. A hero.”
“He treated you like a mudblood, didn’t he?”
“Yes, I suppose so. But he never called me one. And he had his reasons.”
The deatheater considered her. “Reasons you didn’t know about. And after all those years of mistreatment by him, you ended up wanting him to fuck you. Ended up letting him fuck you. Sounds like low self-esteem to me.”
“Fuck you!” Hermione spat venomously.
The deatheater gave an ugly chuckle and said, “I’d watch that. I could very well fuck you if I chose, though I don’t think it would mean much after constantly having thirteen inches of cock shoved in every hole you have. I would have to resort to other methods of causing you pain…I don’t think you would find them much of a turn-on.”
He fingered the blade meaningfully. Hermione blanched.
The deatheater’s eyes raked across her body.
“Anyway, I’m curious about something,” he said.
The deatheater approached the bed. Leaning over her, he began to unfasten her jeans.
“No!” Hermione screamed, arching up and pulling at her bonds desperately.
He brought the tip of the dagger to her throat and pressed in the tip just enough to hurt, but didn’t break the skin. She stilled.
“Good girl,” he said, “now where was I?”
He laid the dagger on the bed. With his gloved hands, he opened the button, and zipped down the zipper. Hermione clenched her jaw against screaming as he tugged on her pants, but she was spread-eagle, so he couldn’t lower them. Hissing in exasperation, he finally cut them off of her, tossing them to the floor.
Hermione lay there bare-breasted, in her comfortable cotton briefs or granny panties as they are known in muggle circles. She rarely wore anything overtly sexy, though she had a couple of matching bra and panty sets. Severus never took much time to appreciate her undergarments. It was what was under them that had his full attention.
The deatheater took the tip of his dagger and put it in the crotch of her panties, moving them aside so he could see her sex. Hermione couldn’t remember ever feeling such shame and humiliation.
He took a deep breath. His strange, undulating voice sounded unsteady. “Very pretty,” he said, looking down, “you would think after going through all that cock, it would be a bit beat up. Wore out,” he licked his lips, “Loose.”
He let the cotton crotch snap back, covering her.
“But he is a Potions Master after all. I imagine he fixes you back up when he’s done with you,” he quipped.
Hermione didn’t answer him, still appalled at what just happened. She prayed he wouldn’t rape her…she wouldn’t be able to stand his touch.
“You’re not even wet,” the deatheater observed, sitting back down in the chair.
“Why would I be wet? This is not the least bit arousing. Neither are you,” Hermione snapped.
“I thought masochists got off on being threatened…that the threat of pain got their juices flowing,” he mused, twirling the dagger in his hand.
“I guess it depends on who is doing the threatening. And there’s only one kind of pain that excites me.”
“And that’s associated with Snape’s cock I take it,” the deatheater said, his voice low and resonate.
“Exactly.”
The deatheater leaned forward. Hermione was sure a leer was hidden behind the shifting spell on his face.
“I’m almost tempted to test that theory. What if I fingered you a little. Think you’d get wet for me? Come for me?”
Nausea welled up in Hermione’s belly.
“I’d rather you kill me,’ she said, her eyes cold.
“Even if I said I’d spare your life? Send you back to Snape damp, but whole and intact?”
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.
The deatheater frowned under his mask. “Do you have any idea how much pain I could cause you before you die? I could cut your flesh from your body an inch at a time. Fuck you with this blade…”
He twisted the knife so it flashed.
Hermione was afraid, but she didn’t want this man to touch her. She already felt mentally raped. If she let him do this to her, she’d never, ever feel clean again. She’d wish for death.
Sorry Severus, my love.
“Do what you have to do, then. I won’t come for you. I won’t try. I don’t want you to touch me.”
“Do you think that Snape would want you to die, for something as insignificant as this?”
“He’d understand.”
“Would he?”
“Yes.”
The deatheater sighed.
“You are either very brave or very stupid. It seems Snape has you tied up body and soul. You’re willing to die rather than give yourself to another man. And he’s never even told you he loves you. How he managed to have someone so loyal love him is beyond me. Very well, you’ve made your choice. Say goodbye.”
The deatheater reached in his pocket and extracted his wand.
“Less mess this way,” he said shortly, and pointed it at Hermione.
Everything went black.
*****************************
A/N: wow. Hermione’s certainly a woman of conviction. Gryffindor all the way...