Forbidden Rapture

BY : Marionne25
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione
Dragon prints: 41830
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not making money from this story.

Author’s Note:

   After long days of working on this with dear OracleObscured I’m finally able to post it! Thank you, thank you, I’m extremely grateful for all the criticisms and how you PATIENTLY help me throughout each chaps I send you. I hope to be a better writer someday and damn good at it just like you.

 Severus1Snape – sister, it’s here and I hope you like this one. =) I miss talking to you. Busy days for both of us.


   So, holidays are over. Tomorrow my OJT begins again and preparation for graduation recital (yes, you know, music majors go like that) but I decided to continue working on this as a stress-reliever and away from the world I’m so used into. I’m letting go of my other fanfics (in a sense that I will focus on this one for now) until I am confidently better in writing and editing my works on my own.

  Again, hope you like it. Please review and rate.



Hermione Jean Granger sat by the cafe window where she could see the rain. It was a quarter to three in the afternoon, and she was waiting for the handsome man with emerald eyes and the mark of a legend slashed across his forehead.

She was eager to see him, but the longer her eyes lingered upon the falling rain, the further away her mind travelled.

"You need to eat." He set a plate on the table in front of her. "I told you I will bring you news once there is anything significant."

"What do you know about which things are significant and which are not?" she asked incredulously, almost forgetting she was in his territory.

He chose not to answer. The witch was always demanding answers.

 "What do you know about such things?" She pushed away the plate. "Your judgement is questionable.” She stared disdainfully at the platter. “And I'm not hungry," she flatly told him, her brown eyes flashing.

He breathed heavily, and before she knew it, the plate flew across the room and crashed against the wall. It scared her, but she tried her best not to show it. She sat still, refusing to look at him. She knew that if she stared into those black eyes, she would only fuel the fire of fear already ignited inside of her.

"Do you know how I know?" he asked, banging his fists against the table so hard that for a moment it overshadowed the hammering of the rain. “I know, Granger, because you're here," he spat. “If my judgement were flawed, you wouldn't be alive right now. You should be thanking me on bended knee."

"Then you should have left me for dead!" she screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You should have left me to die with the rest of them! You shouldn't have taken me. You shouldn't have saved me!”

 "I did what I had to do," he said softly, binding her wrists in his grasp. "I did what I had to do—what he made me do. I promised him I would save anyone and everyone I could, and you were the only one within my reach, Hermione. Only you," he whispered as he tried to keep her still in his arms.


She blinked and saw Harry standing over the table, a smile on his face. Hermione stared up at him with her mouth slightly open.

"It's time," he told her, pointing at his watch. It was five minutes to three. "We don't want to be late." He offered his hand to her. "Are you all right?"

Hermione nodded. "I'm fine." He held her by the hand and they started toward the Ministry building across the street.

"Hermione," he said cautiously, "don’t worry, the Wizengamot always decides for the best." He tried for a supportive smile.

Hermione stared back into those emerald eyes sparkling behind the spectacles. Those beautiful eyes—those same eyes she had fallen in love with.

He could see her hesitation. She bit her lower lip whenever she was nervous.

“Harry, what if...?" She didn't continue. They were lovers and best friends and everything else that there could be, but she knew he would never see things from her point of view. She suddenly opened her arms and hugged him tightly around the neck. "Harry, please, you need to understand.  No matter what you hear at the trial, just remember that he kept me alive.”

Harry tried to avoid her gaze completely. Why did she insist on protecting that monster? That wretched man had completely ruined his beloved, and he wanted him to suffer. He wanted him to pay dearly.

"We've talked about this, Hermione." Harry said, slowly letting go of her hand and turning away.


Hermione sighed and stalked after him as he crossed the road. “Harry! Wait, please!” She caught up with him mid-way and grabbed his arm. He turned to her and pulled her with him to the other side to avoid blocking the sidewalk.

His eyes swept over her fragile form and sad expression. He sighed heavily but tried his best to control his anger. "I know how you feel,” he told her calmly, “but I believe that justice should be served." And without another word, Harry turned from her and entered the building.

She followed wordlessly with her head down, silently praying that justice wasn't as harsh with Snape as Harry.

The moment they entered, the Daily Prophet's people swarmed around them. They were all desperate to get a photo and a quote.  The scandal was front page news.

“Mr. Potter.” Kingsley greeted them. Ministry guards helped Harry and Hermione by blocking the nosy reporters from getting too close.

“Minister,” Harry replied, giving him a respectful nod. He turned and took Hermione’s hand, pulling her to keep up with his fast pace.

Harry had allowed only one press conference after finding Hermione, and he had stated that it was the first and last one before the trial. He promised the press that once the twelve hearings had concluded, he would set a date and time for another one.

“Thank you Kingsley,” Harry said as they were led to a narrow corridor, away from the press. “I am grateful for this.”

“Nothing to worry about, Harry,” Kingsley told him. He nodded at Hermione. “I'll see you in the courtroom.” He opened up the door for them and waited for them to enter first.

Harry avoided Hermione’s eyes, but he squeezed her hand. People started staring and whispering when they recognized who had arrived. Harry and Hermione sat high up, along the raised gallery.

Harry wasn't new to this set up; he had been in the room several times as a child and several more times as an adult. The last time was for the court hearing of Lucius Malfoy. The Death Eater was sentenced to Azkaban and had gone insane within the first few months. Given that he was a high-ranking Death Eater, and one of the most wanted of the lot, he was not granted a transfer to St. Mungo’s. He was left to rot. And to make his situation worse, rumor was that Draco had never once visited him.

People began to stand as the the Wizengamot entered. Before Hermione knew it, the Dementors were dragging in a thin man in prisoner's clothes whose face was hidden beneath long locks of dark hair. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

"Hermione, sit down," Harry whispered, tugging her hand.

"Today," the clerk announced, "we are here for the hearing of Mr. Severus Prince Snape for day one of twelve hearings. Today's charges are pressed by Mr. Harry James Potter, long-term friend of Ms. Hermione Jean Granger, victim of the accused."

There were strong murmurs around the crowd, and Hermione felt nauseated. But she was able to hold herself together. "I'm here," she thought to herself, staring at the back of Snape’s head. "I'm here. Please look at me. Please.”

"Wizengamot Federal Case 151924," the witch's voice echoed. “The Wizarding Community and full jury of the Wizengamot shall discuss the case of Miss Hermione Jean Granger, who was held captive for ten years by Mister Severus Prince Snape — a known Death Eater and former professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

There were more murmurs around the crowd, and Hermione's chest tightened as the witch continued.

"Today's hearing will discuss how Miss Hermione Jean Granger came to be in the hands of Mister Severus Prince Snape for the ten years after the war commenced.”

There were more words, but Hermione was barely listening, because just as she was about to settle back down in her seat, he turned and looked right at her. His black eyes met her brown ones. He looked up at her with a passive expression as if he didn't recognize her. A tear trickled down her cheek as she recalled his final words to her.

"You will tell them the truth," he whispered. "You will tell them the truth and nothing but the truth Hermione, you hear me?  LOOK AT ME!" He held her arms, shaking her violently. “You will tell them nothing but the truth no matter how much it hurts, no matter what it takes.”

 "No, I can't. Please, don't make me do this. I can't do it.”

"Do you trust me?" he asked her gently.

She stared into his black eyes—those black eyes that had been her windows to the outside world for the past ten years.

"Hermione," he repeated warmly, tracing the side of her cheek. He made sure that her eyes were fixed on his. "Do you trust me?" he asked her softly.

His voice rang through her head. She couldn't let it go. She couldn't let him go. No, her life depended on that voice. Hearing it meant her sanctuary was still safe and intact.


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