From Which There Is No Return | By : SilverIcePhoenix Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 4883 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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. |
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Author’s Note: This is a challenge for a Community.
From Which There Is No Return
Hermione laid awake in bed, staring at the top of the canopy. She knew the time was coming soon, the time for her to transform to her true self so that she could go to her lover in the dead of the Hogwarts' night. Only her love and Headmaster Dumbledore knew of her true form. Not her friends, not her enemies.
She heard the clock across the room chime midnight. Before the chime even ended, Hermione got out of bed and stepped into the gentle moonlight that flooded from three large windows around the circular room. The peachy-skinned, brown-haired girl began to change slightly, each transformation hardly noticeable individually; however, her appearance all in all changed: her poofy hair straightened and turned raven black, her skin paled, her lips darkened to ebony, and her eyes began to glow red. Hermione's fingernails lengthened, naturally painting themselves blood red. Her white nightshirt turned into a black gown; a ribboning corset formed over her stomach, and the sleeves flared to hide her hands, stretching toward the floor. The most noticeable part of her new appearance, however, was the two pearly white fangs that jutted down between her closed lips.
The vampire Hermione glanced at herself in a mirror before fleeing the room. She left Gryffindor Tower, quickly taking the stairs down to ground level. Down the corridor toward the Great Hall, she raced. But before she reached the huge, elaborately-carved double doors, she stopped. To the left was a single door upon which she entered. The thin hallway beyond the door was dimly lit by glowing torches. Instinctively, she went to the third door that lined the left wall of the hallway. The vampire opened it, quickly closing it behind her.
“Who is there?” A deep, masculine voice came from within.
“It’s me,” Hermione replied softly, following the direction the voice came from.
Severus Snape stepped out of the shadows and embraced Hermione. “Oh, my love,” he whispered into her black hair.
“Severus,” She said quietly, pulling back to look at him. “Are you sure this is what you want? We can only make love when I am a vampire, but it is risky. Please, do not do this unless you're sure.”
He stared at her for a moment, not thinking it over. His mind was already made up. He just wanted to look at her pale skin in the pale light of his chambers. “I am positive.”
Severus took her hands in his, leading her to the back room of his small apartment, where his bed was. He did not take his eyes off of her, even when he laid her down upon the rickety old bed. They laid there together, slowly undressing the other, kissing softly, and gently exploring the other’s body. Hermione ran her fingers though Severus’s shoulder length hair and felt his surprisingly muscular arms. His fingertips trailed lightly down her flat stomach and the attractive curve of her posterior.
“Are you sure, Severus?” Hermione whispered through the darkness.
He did not respond, as he’d told her a hundred times. He knew the risks of taking a vampire‘s virginity, but he couldn’t not be with his love. This was the only way either of them could be happy. No matter the outcome, he wanted to take the chance for happiness. Once this night was over, the risks would diminish. Vampires are only deadly to their lover the first time they copulate.
Having rolled those thoughts through his mind, he sat up on the bed, resting his back against the loose and squeaky headboard of the bed. He slowly pulled Hermione into his lap, taking the time to look at her gorgeous frame in the dim light from the front room.
“Severus... are you sure?” Hermione’s quiet voice asked again.
“Yes, I am. I love you, Hermione,” He whispered.
Nodding, Hermione straddled his front, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her closely, whispering a question of consent to which Hermione nodded again. Severus lifted her up slightly around the waist and lowered her slowly on his erection. She gasped at the feeling, slowly taking all of him in before continuing. Slowly but surely, she began rocking on his shaft, him thrusting with her motion. Their breathing picked up, an occasional moan escaping one set of lips. Severus kissed her passionately, running his tongue over her sharp fangs. The two, merged as one, quickened their pace for more pleasure, yet not quick enough to rush the process. Severus lowered his mouth her collarbone, place a single kiss before moving his mouth down the swell of her breast. His lips lingered, sucking gently before raising his head to look at her. Hermione’s eyes were closed and her black hair lay plastered to her face with sweat. Their pace sped up even more and Severus got the feeling that they were both nearing their climaxes. Hermione’s breath was more ragged, her moans more frequent. Severus lowered his hands to her waist, lifting her up and bringing her down roughly with each thrust. The headboard began hitting the wall with their movement, but neither were hardly distracted by the loud thumps. Their orgasms happened simultaneously; Severus tilted his head backward onto the headboard when it happened. Hermione’s mouth opened in a loud gasp as her vaginal muscled contracted. In the lust of the moment, she took a sharp breath in and brought her fangs down into Severus’s jugular.
Severus gasped as he realized that his worst fears of this perfect night came true as his eyes glazed over, losing the life from within them. Hermione drank from him until her lustful climax ended, then the realization dawned on her. Her eyes widened in terror and hatred toward herself and what she was. She scrambled off of the bed, getting caught in the sheet and falling off onto the floor, making the headboard hit the wall three more times. She scooted away from the bed, looking at her lifeless lover, sobs overcoming her. She sat there on the floor and wept. She wept for Severus, she wept for herself, and she wept because she did not think that lust was worth losing him forever.
A loud knock came at the door and a voice called, “Severus, is everything alright? What was that thumping noise against the wall?”
Hermione was far too distraught to care if she was caught as a vampire. She was too discomposed to care if she was caught in a relationship with a teacher. Because the teacher was dead. Dumbledore would know who’s fault it was if she fled. She was the only vampire in the school.
“Severus, if you don’t answer me, I’m coming in,” The voice called again. Hermione only sat with her knees drawn up under her chin, weeping into them and rocking back and forth.
The door opened and, through the large doorway between the front and back room, Hermione could see that was McGonagall holding a candle. McGonagall saw her, her fangs, and the blood staining her mouth and chin. She stepped forward, the entire situation dawning on her.
“Ms. Granger? You’re a... vampire?” The aged woman stuttered. “Hermione... What have you done?”
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