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 55 ~ The Keeping of a Promise


Snape carried a breathless Hermione through the door. His black eyes were locked hungrily to hers as he carried her to towards the bedroom. He looked so intense that Hermione began to rethink his promise

“Um, Professor…I really think I’d like to be able to walk,” she said softly as they entered the bedroom.

Snape chuckled at this as he set her down on the bedroom floor.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind, Miss Granger,” he said, starting to unbutton her robes.

Hermione was surprised. He normally just divestoed her clothing. He didn’t undress her. She looked down at his large, pale hands as they expertly undid each fastening. He had such long fingers…and what they could do.

Snape noticed Hermione going half-lidded as she watched his hands opening her robes.

He surreptiously muttered the legilimency spell and looked into her mind. It seemed lust clouded her Primordial powers somewhat, because she didn’t feel him there. He decided to keep the link open this time, locking his consciousness to hers.

The first thing he saw was his hands. But they weren’t unbuttoning her robes. They were moving slowly over her naked body, over her throat, across her shoulders, down her collarbone, and lingering at her breasts, cupping, fondling and caressing them languidly. The image was very erotic, and Snape growled low in his throat despite himself. He normally didn’t indulge much in caresses, but her obvious pleasure in his touching her body was arousing.

He parted her robes and slipped them off her shoulders, throwing the garment on the armchair. She wore a t-shirt and jeans beneath. He caught the bottom of the t-shirt and pulled it upward slowly, Hermione raised her arms obligingly as he removed it, also throwing it on the armchair., Hermione’s amber eyes were locked on his face as he tugged at her jeans, unsnapping them, then sliding the zipper down. Snape had to bend to lower her jeans, and bringing her thoughts of his hands to mind, slid his hands over her waist, and slipped them between her hips and the denim fabric passing over her panties. Her breath caught.

Hearing Hermione’s breath hitch, Snape knelt, sliding his hands and the jeans slowly down her thighs and calves, down to her ankles, caressing her soft, warm flesh beneath his palms and fingers. She stepped out of her jeans, left only in her bra and panties. Snape stood up and looked down at her. In her mind she was undressing him. Snape grasped her hands and brought them to his throat.

“Undress me,” he said huskily.

Hermione swallowed and her hands shook slightly as she began to unbutton his robes. Snape caressed her back as she worked at his robes, letting his hands slip down over the swell of her buttocks, slipping his fingers beneath her panties. The witch began to breathe faster. She had his robes halfway open. In her mind she was already working on his shirt.

“I’ll finish my robes, Miss Granger, start on my shirt,” Snape said softly, taking his hands from her body and finishing unbuttoning his robes as Hermione’s hands moved to his shirt. Her eyes were locked on his pale skin as she opened each button. She unconsciously licked her lips as more and more of his chest was revealed, then the ripples of his belly. She pulled his shirt out of his pants impatiently, her eyes focused on his chest. He looked in her mind and emitted a little groan as he saw her mouth running across his chest.

“You may kiss me if you like, Miss Granger,” he breathed, his cock hardening. Hermione slowly pressed her soft lips in the center of his chest, her hands sliding under his shirt and tracing the scars of his back as she ran her mouth over his skin. He brought his hands back to her body, deftly unsnapping her bra and sliding the straps down one arm, removing it from his body as he slip her bra off, then letting her replace it, before sliding the other strap down and removing the bra completely. Now her breasts were bare and he caressed them as she continued to kiss his chest, her hands sliding over his back and lower back, her small fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his pants.

Suddenly she stopped kissing him, looking up at him with a strange expression on her face.

“What is it, Miss Granger?” Snape asked her, his brow slightly furrowed, his hands still on her breasts.

“Do you think…just this time, this last time…you could call me by my name? Hermione? I’d just like to hear how it sounds when you say it, Professor,” she said, her voice very small as if waiting for him to chastise her for asking such a thing.

He looked at her, arching an eyebrow.

“And I suppose you want to call me by my given name as well?” he said to her. Hermione nodded.

“Miss…Hermione, after what you’ve done for me today, I will call you anything you wish. And for this last time, you may call me Severus, but afterwards…”

“I know…Professor,” Hermione replied quietly. He had given her permission to call him by his name, but she wasn’t quite ready to say it yet. He had said her name, and it sounded so delicious rolling off his tongue, she felt a rush of wetness between her legs.

“Do you want to finish undressing me, Hermione? Or should I finish for you?” Snape asked her. In reply, Hermione’s small hands rose to the front of his pants and began to unfasten them. Her hand grazed against the hard bulge concealed beneath the fabric, and he hissed, watching as the witch bit her lip and peeled back his fly. He throbbed at the look on her face when she started pulling his pants down, kneeling as she did so. The Potions Master’s whole body suddenly tensed with raw desire and it took every bit of control to keep him from grabbing the witch and throwing her to the bed.

“Hermione,” he breathed. She shuddered visibly as he said her name. Snape stepped out of his pants, left in his tented black silk boxers. She stood up. The Potions Master’s nostrils pulsated as he smelled how aroused the Primordial was. Primordial. The most powerful witch in the world. She destroyed the two most despotic wizards in the wizarding world without spilling a drop of blood. She had freed and exonerated him. And he was about to fuck her for the last time. It had to be the last time.

The Potions Master wasn’t blind. It was clear Hermione was in love with him, something that he had wanted to avoid. He wasn’t the kind of wizard to love. He enjoyed fucking her, but he didn’t want her beyond that. She had done nothing to break through his core of coldness to reach his black heart. There was nothing anyone could do to breech that broken, twisted part of him. He was what he was. Snape appreciated what she had done for him, but he took many risks to get her to the point where she could do something for him, and for herself. He appreciated it, but he didn’t love her for it. But he could give her what she needed this one last time.

After today, her life would be very different. The world knew of her power. There would be wizards by the thousands who would kill for the chance to do to her what he was about to do. Maybe from among them she could find a wizard that could meet her needs emotionally as well as physically. Maybe.

He pulled the witch against him, and saw her need as well as felt it as she pressed her body against his. He’d play the lover one final time for her. He lowered his head and captured her lips, sucking on them gently before slipping his tongue into her mouth to battle with hers. He pulled her against his erection and ground against her, and she moaned into his mouth urgently as he ran his hands over her body, caressing her, fulfilling her need to be touched. Suddenly he saw visions of them at breakfast, then in the same bed at night, walking along a lakeside hand in hand, and he pulled out of her mind. Those were her wishes for them. Dreams that would never come true. He had to say something. It was the one decent thing he could do for her.

“Don’t love me, Hermione,” he whispered against her mouth. Hermione froze, pulling back from him.

“You can fuck me, but you can’t love me,” he said, his eyes harsh. “I haven’t changed since the first night I took you. You must understand that. It makes no sense to crave what you can never have. I am incapable of love, Hermione.”

Hermione blinked up at him. Tears were forming in her eyes.

“I’ll take what you can give me then, Severus,” she replied, her arms tightening around him. The Potions Master sighed, and lifted her up, carrying her to the bed. He laid her down and hooked his fingers under her panties and slid them off of her, tossing them to the floor. Then he removed his boxers, his swollen cock springing out and pointing at Hermione like a compass needle. Severus climbed on top of her quickly, lifting her legs to his shoulders and positioning himself at her wet entrance.

“I can only give you this, Hermione,” he said, looking down at her as he slid his girth into her tightness. He didn’t slam into her, but eased in, feeling her part around him, surrounding him in softness, heat and wetness. He groaned, his nostrils flaring as she moaned in pleasure. Her amber eyes locked to his.

“I want you closer,” Hermione whispered. “Deeper. Make me remember you, Severus. I’m never going to find anyone else like you. I wish…I wish you could love me.”

“Hermione,” he breathed.

Enough of this ridiculous emotion. He had to drive it away. Severus pulled back and rammed his cock into her as hard as he could. Hermione shrieked. He waited, then did it again, slipping his cock out of her almost completely then burying the full length inside her forcefully.

“Gods!” she screamed as he hit bottom. He began to increase his speed, stroking into her wetness, bouncing off her body, his muscles flexing, his buttocks clenching as he drove into her over and over, fucking her hard, staring down at her face with his coal-black eyes, his hair swinging as he plunged in and out of her. He would remember her face always as it contorted with pain and lust and need and pleasure. She was saying words that he didn’t want to hear and he drove into her harder, trying to take away her ability to speak.

“Shhh,” he said to her as he rammed deep inside her, “Don’t talk Hermione, just feel.”

Her words turned into rhythmic cries as his pelvis slapped against her thighs loudly. He watched his huge cock piston in and out of her small body, glistening with her juices, the scent of shared sex wafting upward, arousing him even more as he drove himself into her hot, tight sleeve over and over, a grimace of pleasure settling over his features as his body shifted into automatic. He couldn’t stop fucking her if he tried.

Hermione cried out repeatedly, her eyes locked on his face, her hands pressed against his chest, trying to memorize the look of him as he beat like a drum inside her, driving into her ache, her need and pounding out a growing sweetness underneath the pain of his possession. She would never have him like this again. The thought made her buck up against him, trying to take him deeper than she ever had, hoping he would go so deep he could feel her soul swallowing him down.

Snape rode the Primordial mercilessly, her body rocking beneath him, springing back into his thrusts, her juices squishing and gushing around his cock, covering his pelvis in wetness. He pressed into her as deeply as he could and rotated his hips, gyrating inside her causing her to choke on her scream as he gave her as much of himself as he could. He felt her tightening around bim and began to drive into her again, pounding into the growing vise of her body, feeling her rippling up and down the length of him as she let out a low keen that soon rose to a shriek as she burst around him, pulling him into her as she came, her release washing over him as her pussy clutched and sucked at his cock. He groaned, struggling to hold on. He didn’t want to stop yet. He pulled out of her and rolled her over, pulling the orgasmic witch to her knees and entering her quickly from behind. He had to push hard, she was so tight, still pulsing from her climax.

Snape gripped the headboard and used it for leverage as he fucked her from behind, his cock plunging so deep it felt as if her were penetrating her belly. Hermione’s head hit the headboard, hard, and she pulled herself up on the headboard too, both of them holding on, the entire bed shaking from the power of the Potions Master’s ardor. She wanted to remember him…he would do his best to be unforgettable. Hermione was silent now, except for the harsh expellation of breath as he hit bottom repeatedly and a weak whimper when his thrust snapped something deep inside her, and she came again, his arms leaving the headboard to wrap tight around her waist, holding her steady as he drove up inside her brutally and her heat washed over him, bliss spreading throughout her body, as she fell back against him, her wet back sliding against his chest…and her power invoked itself, the stream rushing through her body and into the Potions Master, who howled as his pleasure intensified, the Primordial shuddering, pulsing around him and through him as he felt himself tighten.

The Potions Master gritted his teeth in an effort to hold himself on that delicious edge of impending release, stroking, plunging, ramming into Hermione for all he was worth until he finally burst, a flood of bliss rushing through him as he gasped Hermione’s name, his essence pouring into the Primordial, carrying him along with his release, tumbling over and under as if caught in a riptide, spinning outward and meeting her, somewhere in the beyond and catching hold, blending again, two bodies, one soul, caught in the infinite moment of perfect union and hovering there in a radiant joy, then waning, splitting, falling back to earth, back to separation, back into their own selves.

Snape leaned heavily against Hermione’s back, gasping as he returned, his face buried in her hair, feeling her quaking against him, his arms still wrapped around her waist, his cock softening inside her. Exhausted, he rolled heavily to the side, falling into the bed, dragging her down with him, still holding her tight to his body. He waited until her breathing slowed and evened out before speaking.

“Do you think you will remember me, Hermione?” he asked her, his warm breath tickling her ear.

“Always, Professor,” Hermione replied softly, trying to memorize the feeling of his arms around her.

“Then I’ve done what you’ve asked of me,” he said, his voice heavy.

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, feeling the heaviness of sleep washing over her.

They slumbered. The Potions Master didn’t let her go.

When Hermione awoke in the morning, he was gone.

She started to fling her mind outward and locate him…then thought better of it. If he wanted her to know where he had gone, he would have told her. It was better this way.

Hermione sat up in the bed and stretched. She needed a shower, and she needed to get back to Hogwarts. She’d missed a lot of classes and had loads of work to make up if she wanted to keep top marks for graduation.

She doubted Snape would return to teaching. He hated it after all, and was only at Hogwarts because of the Dark Lord. He was free now. Free to pursue anything he wanted to pursue, with nothing and no one to hold him back. His only Master was himself.

Hermione rolled out of bed. She was a Primordial now. Life for her would be much, much different than it was. A whole new world was waiting for her.

She had no choice but to meet it.

THE END

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A/N: And that’s it folks, the pwp that wouldn’t die. Lol. Thank you all for reading. And yes, there will be an epilogue. Please leave a review.