Forbidden Obsession

Chapter 6


Hermione was still asleep in the infirmary, restless, as her mind would not shut off while sleeping. Her thoughts kept returning to the vision of Professor Snape revealing his secret. Her mind was debating the rationality of him being what he was. In her dream she found him in the empty corridors of the school. His arms were crossed, his robes encased around his body. His limp black hair fell on each side of his face. His brow line was creased and the intensity of his gaze upon her gripped her body and mind like a vise. Her breathing was shallow as she made her way toward him. Fear consumed her but curiosity controlled her as she stood in front of him, forcing herself to return his gaze.


“What are you?” she asked. His eyes never left hers as he slowly uncrossed his arms. His robes opened and his hand reached out for hers. Willingly she placed her hand in his. Was it trust? No. She was not in control of her choices, but what were her choices? Would she had left if she could? No. She needed to be here – here with him.


‘Need,’ she thought. He was more than a need; he was a desire, but a desire to what? She was not sure but she could not bring herself to disobey him.


He took her hand in his and raised it to his mouth. Turning it over, he placed his warm lips to her skin and gently kissed it. His eyes still bored into her as if reaching into the depths of her soul.


“Why are you here, Hermione?” he asked in a low voice. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled. Opening her eyes she exhaled, looking into his once again. She could feel him in her veins and in the breath she took. She knew.


‘Desideratum,’ she thought, ‘you are my desideratum.’


“And you are mine,” he replied. She gasped at his response but immediately calmed when his gaze upon her softened. “Are you ready, Hermione?” he asked. She had no conceptualization as to what lay ahead and it did not matter just as long as she was with him.


“Yes,” she whispered.


He nodded. Still holding her hand close to his mouth he turned it back over, revealing the inside of her wrist. Again his lips touched her skin, but so did his tongue. Slowly he ran it across her soft flesh, causing a wave of intimate gratification to engulf her body. His lips surrounded her wrist as his tongue circled and stroked her flesh. At the precise moment his teeth pierced her skin, her eyes opened and she connected with him. The blood pumped fiercely through her veins for him, and slowly he drank. There was no rush or desperation. This was not a feeding.


Hermione brought her hand to his face and cradled it as he consumed her warm liquid. Her fingers slowly stroked his skin, feeling his muscles contract with each swallow. She continued looking into his eyes and she understood – she belonged to him.


Closing her eyes again, she felt a wave of energy spread through her body, bringing both a sense of fulfillment and an understanding of what needed to be done. Her head tilted back as her body leaned into his. His other arm embraced her, pulling her closer to his body. Her desire intensified as she found her hips leaning towards his. She needed this man.


He withdrew his mouth from her wrist and leaned down. His lips grazed hers just before…


She awoke.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Hermione was soon released from the infirmary on her own recognizance. Though Kingsley questioned her restlessness during the night, she gave no indication of the content of her dreams, as vivid as they had been. Her mind was on Professor Snape, and that was who Hermione needed to find.


Madame Pomfrey had given her another stern lecture, forbidding her from using any form of magic or Muggle techniques to heal her wounds. Hermione knew her only chance to leave was to sound as convincing as possible. Of course she was not going to jeopardize the healing of her wounds. She made her promises and was released.


Hermione spent the next few hours searching for Professor Snape, trying to get a glance at him, but as luck would have it, she did not find him. She attended her classes so as not to bring too much attention to herself, promising herself she would continue her quest after dinner.


She, Harry, and Ron were in the Great Hall eating breakfast. Hermione was still weak but did not reveal this information to Harry or Ron. Harry and Ron were discussing Quidditch, as usual while Hermione was lost in her own thoughts. ‘And you are mine.’ The words echoed throughout her mind. His touch had been so real. Even now her body reacted to him.


“Hermione?” asked Ron, “What are you staring at?” Hermione sat with a dazed look on her face, staring at the high table.


“Professor Snape is not here,” she mumbled.


“What?” asked Ron, not sure if he heard her right. She looked at him startled realizing she had spoken aloud.


“And Remus is gone too,” she added hastily.


“Of course Remus is not here. Professor Dumbledore will be teaching for him today. As for Snape, I’m not sure.” Hermione gave him a bit of a puzzled look and then shook her head, quickly clearing her thoughts.


“I’m sure Remus is fine,” said Harry. “He always needs an extra day or two after a full moon.”


“I suppose you are right,” she said, trying to sound convinced. Her thoughts then went back to Snape. She hadn’t seen him since the night she was attacked. She felt a part of her aching to find him, but she refrained from doing so.


‘It was just a dream,’ she repeatedly told herself. She had nightmares before that had stayed with her and that is what this was, just a nightmare.


“May I have your attention, please,” requested Dumbledore. Silence fell across the Great Hall. “It is my deepest regret to inform you of a tragedy that has occurred.” Dumbledore drew in a breath before continuing. “This past weekend there was a battle with one of Lord Voldemort’s followers, a Death Eater. This Death Eater has taken the life of our very own Professor Remus Lupin.” A murmur fell across the hall of both disbelief and shock. Dumbledore gave very little detail about the event but nonetheless, most had tears in their eyes, including Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“My Lord,” said Bellatrix, dropping to one knee and bowing her head. “I have information that I believe you will find useful.” Voldemort slowly walked around his faithful servant, observing her while entering her mind. Bellatrix opened her mind to him trying to free the thoughts of her fear she held for her Master.


Voldemort knelt behind her and leaned close to her ear.


“You are wise to fear me, Bellatrix,” he said in a harsh whisper. She cringed, closing her eyes. Her body quivered from his closeness but she maintained her position. He ran his long, bony fingers over her robes, along her spine, stopping just at her buttock. She squirmed a bit when his fingers stopped. “Are you disappointed I stopped?” he hissed.


“Yes, my Lord,” she said in a husky voice.


“Are you offering yourself to me?” he asked. Placing her other knee on the ground she leaned forward a bit more, knowing her place.


The Dark Lord snapped his fingers and her clothes were gone. He had smelled her arousal when she had walked in and was not going let it go to waste. Placing his hands on her hips, he raised them and then roughly shoved his fingers into her wet cunt. Bellatrix let out a moan, exposing her desires.


Voldemort knew well that her desire was not for him, it was for another. He stroked her a bit, brushing against her clit before removing his wet fingers.


“Pity this was not meant for me,” he said.


“But my Lord, it is. You are who I desire …”


“Don’t lie to me, bitch!” He quickly raised his robes, exposing his own erection. His fingers entered her again but this time it was to spread her wetness around his cock.


Bellatrix lowered herself down onto her elbows, waiting for him to fuck her. She needed this after being denied by Severus.


Grabbing her hips, Voldemort raised them a bit and thrust not into her wet folds but into her anus. He only provided enough lubrication for his benefit, as was obvious when she cried out in pain.


He viciously pumped her tight ass as his fellow Death Eaters came out of the shadows to watch. Voldemort pulled all the way out and entered again and again, causing her as much pain as he could. Every time the head of his cock tore through her tight ring of muscles she cried out in pain and it was with each cry that brought him closer to his release. He made no sound, not even his breathing changed. With only a quickening in his thrusts, he came. His warm fluid oozed out of her and down her legs, stained with her blood.


He got to his feet, straightened his robes and calmly said, “You may rise, Bellatrix.”


“Thank you, my Lord.” Her voice quavered, but she did as she was told. She stood in the middle of a group of Death Eaters, naked. Their eyes didn’t dare look at her body for it was clear she belonged to their Master and was not an offering to them. Lucius approached her with her robes and she snatched them out of his hands. Covering herself, she hastily took her place in the circle. Her legs trembled and her anus spasmed in pain from being violated but she gave no indication to her discomfort. Silently she vowed that Severus would pay.


“What information do you have for me, Bellatrix?” asked Voldemort, sitting down in his chair, facing his faithful servants. Bellatrix respectfully stepped forward and spoke.


“Severus killed the werewolf but he spared a mudblood’s life.”


“Which mudblood?” hissed Voldemort.


“Potter’s friend.”


“Why would he do such a thing? It goes against my work,” snapped the Dark Lord.


“Severus claimed it was not in your plans to kill the mudblood, so he spared her life,” she said quickly. Voldemort got to his feet and approached her. Bellatrix swallowed hard, trying to hide her fear, forcing herself not to move from her spot.


“And how would you know this, Bellatrix? Severus does not explain himself to anyone except to me.”


“I…I…” her words failed her.


“Do not lie to me again, Bellatrix.” His voice was calm but his threat was clear.


“I questioned him myself, my Lord.” She then hastily added, “Forgive me.” Dropping to her knees, she prepared herself for her punishment.


“Crucio!” cried the Dark Lord.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~


That night Hermione found herself wondering the corridors of the school. She had to find Snape. Her heart ached for Remus, but it ached even more for Severus. She had to see him. She had to know he was safe. She had to know if it was a dream or if she really did have some kind of connection to him. Using the light from her wand to guide her through the dark corridors, she made her way down to the dungeons.


“Miss Granger,” said a pleasant voice. Hermione spun around, nearly blinding the person with her wand.


“Professor Dumbledore,” she squeaked.


“You are out late.”


“I was just patrolling the halls, sir.”


“Ah, at this late hour, Miss Granger?”


“I was just… making sure everything was safe… you know, for the students.”


“Why don’t you leave that to me, my dear?” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at her.


“Yes, sir,” she said. Defeated, she turned and made her way back to her rooms.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~


The next day in potions class, the Hermione, Harry, and Ron were seated, waiting for the arrival of Professor Snape. The Headmaster ordered that classes resume as normal, explaining that it would keep the students’ minds off of Professor Lupin’s death. On cue, the door opened and in walked Snape. He moved slower than usual, but the stern look on his face was no different from what they had seen before.


Standing in front of the class, he turned to face his students. An instant chill went down to the pit of Hermione’s stomach as she looked at him. His skin was pale and sunken, worse than she had ever seen.


Perhaps it was the toll of his taking Remus’ life,’ she thought. She looked at Harry and Ron to see if they noticed the changes. The only look in Harry and Ron’s eyes was anger. They wanted revenge for Remus’ death, but had sworn to Dumbledore that they would do no such thing. She then looked at Malfoy, who gave no regard to the appearance of his head of house. Malfoy was wearing a smirk on his face, though, displaying his support for Remus’ death.


“Today you will be brewing a Blood-Replenishing potion,” Professor Snape spoke in a low voice. His usual intimidating tone was astray, alerting Hermione that something was definitely wrong. He flicked his wand at the chalkboard and the instructions appeared. “You have exactly two hours to turn in your potions. Begin.”


Hermione watched Snape walk behind his desk and sit down. Pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand while resting one elbow on the desk, he did not move for the rest of class.


Perhaps because it was a N.E.W.T.s class, the students brewed their potions without complications. Hermione glanced up at Snape often, both making sure he was okay and hoping for some movement out of him. At this point she would have welcomed his yelling or belittling of a student, but there was nothing. He didn’t bother to walk around the classroom to oversee the brewing of the assignment.


At the end of class the students quickly bottled a sample of their potion and cleaned up, while Hermione procrastinated just enough until most of the students left, including Harry and Ron.


Pouring her potion into the bottle, she sealed it. Taking a steady breath in, she slowly let it out. She approached his desk where he was looking over the samples of potions the other students had left. Placing hers next to them, she waited.


“Class is over,” he said harshly, not looking at her.


“I know, sir, but I just need...” Her words broke off. ‘Need,’ she thought. ‘What do I need?’ She needed to comfort him, tell him that Remus’ death was not his fault. She needed to make sure that he was okay.


“Leave now, Miss Granger, or Gryffindor will suffer.” He made his point. Hermione grabbed her book bag and left.


Severus watched the door shut behind her. Gathering his strength, he left to his private rooms. He needed to feed soon, but he also needed her for more than just feeding.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~


A week later, Hermione placed her stack of books on her desk in the Head Girl\'s rooms. She didn’t know if she was more exhausted from the homework she had just completed or trying to keep Harry and Ron motivated to complete their own homework. The one thing she did know is that she was ready for a hot bath and bed.


Hermione pulled her hair up and tied it in a loose bun, sliding her wand through it to hold it in place. She stepped into the hot bath she had drawn. Adding the last of the sandalwood Tonks had given her, she closed her eyes and relaxed.


Inhaling the aroma, she began to feel a desire build between her legs. Her breasts began to tingle, and her breathing slowed. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, titillating the hunger enthralling her body and senses. Hearing whispers around her, she was engulfed in darkness.


Drawing her wand from her hair she quickly opened her eyes and looked around. Her bathroom was fully lit and her door secured. Placing another ward on her door, she settled back into the water.


“Just relax, Hermione,” she whispered to herself. Pulling her hair back up, the twisted it into a knot again. The ends of her hair dipped into the water. Closing her eyes once again, she leaned her head back onto the edge of the porcelain tub. As her body relaxed again, she slipped into the darkness once more but this time she did not resist.


The whispers were indistinguishable, but there was comfort in them. The lascivious desire returned, captivating both her mind and body. Her skin ached to be touched as she brought her hand to her neck and slowly caressed her skin. Her fingers lazily drew circles down her neck to her throat. She ran her fingers along her collarbone, reaching across to her shoulder.


The whispers continued.


Her hand moved across her chest as her forearm brushing against her nipple. Sliding her arm back across her chest, her fingers brushed against her hard nipple, sending a chill throughout her body.


“Touch your breast,” she heard. It was the first whisper she could comprehend.


Obeying the voice, her fingers circled her hard nipple. She was acutely aware that her breathing quickened as she rolled the nipple between her thumb and middle finger. Her other hand moved to her other breast. Her fingers traced its curve, sending a wave of excitement down the right side of her body. Slowly her fingers meander to her nipple and rolled it between her fingers. Her chest arched out. Her fingers flicked and rubbed her nipples while her hands kneaded her breasts.


The warmth increased between her legs, as did the salacious hunger that was building deep from within her core. One hand moved further into the water, down her abdomen to her pelvis. Sliding her hand further down, she laced her curls between her fingers.


“Touch yourself,” said the whisper.


Her fingers traced the opening of her labia and carefully she opened the folds, feeling the warm water enter. A wave of passion a desire consumed her and again the whispering continued but this time she felt a warm breath against her neck.


“Touch yourself.”


Her fingers slid further into her warm folds, feeling the slickness her body had produced. A hand covered her own, guiding its movements. Her fingers moved along her folds up to her clitoris and she inhaled sharply. Slowly she stroked her nub, first one finger, then two. Her strokes increased in speed while her body ached for release. She had never felt a hunger consume her like this.


“Open your eyes,” commanded a deep, silky voice.


Obediently, Hermione opened her eyes and locked onto the set of dark eyes. His desideratum for her immersed her senses and her orgasm overtook her body violently and instantaneously.


She rolled her nub between her fingers while her hips rocked in the water, splashing it over the sides. Her breathing intensified, remaining in sync with his. She felt his warm breath against her lips and face as her fingers thrust into herself. Her thumb rubbed against her clit, bringing herself to another orgasm. Her walls spasmed and she closed her eyes.


“Keep your eyes open,” the voice demanded. She obeyed, gazing into the set of black eyes before her.


“Mine,” the voice whispered, “You are mine.”


“I am yours,” she whispered.


Hermione awoke, finding herself in her bed with the covers drawn. Her room was dark with the only the moonlight coming through the opening in the curtains. She started to sit up when she realized she was not wearing any clothing. Her mind raced trying to remember what had occurred. All she could remember were his dark eyes and the erogenous desires that had been achieved.


Closing her eyes, she settled back into her bed and slept.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Severus sat in his leather lounge, sipping brandy. Once again his energy was restored, but at what price? He could have Hermione anytime he wanted, but for it to be complete, she must be the one to come to him.


He finished the rest of his brandy, and, with a wave of his hand, he snuffed out the candles.


~TBC