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Memories of Deception	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 20869 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters within. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Memories of Deception
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9.
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
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- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
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- 75-75
- 76-76
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- 90-90
- 91-91
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- 94-94
- 95-95
- 96-96
- 97-97
- 98-98
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- 100-100
- 101-101
- 102-102
- 103-103
- 104-104
- 105-105
- 106-106
- 107-107
- 108-108
- 109-109
- 110-110
- 111-111
- 112-112
- 113-113
- 114-114
- 115-115
- 116-116
- 117-117
- 118-118
- 119-119
- 120-120
- 121-121
- 122-122
- 123-123
- 124-124
- 125-125
- 126-126
- 127-127
- 128-128
- 129-129
- 130-130
- 127
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- 129
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Ok, so yet again the penultimate chapter hit 5000 and I'm no way near finished, so I'm giving you the first part. Still 2 chapters to go after this.
She felt the gentle pressure on her mind, foreign but yet so familiar, and it was as easy as breathing to let him in. His warm presence seemed to fill a hole in her she hadn't even known was there. Instead of sifting through her memories, this time he began to push his own at her instead.
She felt his confusion and guilt warring with his own arousal as she encouraged him to touch her, shyly baring her breasts to him, before showing him how she liked to be touched. He watched her reach her peak beneath him, his fingers buried between her legs. Her arms and legs wound tightly around him as he pressed himself into her over and over, her cries of pain slowly turning to pleasure, and his shame when he came before he could bring her to orgasm for a second time.
He ordered her to get into his bed, hoping she wouldn't refuse and make things difficult. She could feel his disgust at himself for doing what he'd just stopped Lucius from doing to her, and as he started to run his hands over her unwilling body, he couldn't but help contrast it to the way she had readily accepted him into her arms a few weeks previously. He longed to give her the release she clearly wanted, despite herself, but he knew that he had to convince her that he was only there for his own needs. Please forgive me…
Her own face came slowly into focus above her, pale and worried, her body warm against his in the cold water as she ran her finger gently back and forth over this lips. Hermione could feel his astonishment as he realised what she had done, saving him… healing him, even though he was her despised captor. How could she bear to touch him? He didn't want her to stop, so starved of human contact and affection was he. He knew he was pathetic, nervously waiting for her to realise he was awake and unable to move in the hope that she wouldn't notice his scrutiny for a few moments more.
They were in the bedroom, and he watched as she carefully brushed through her hair, turning it from a rat's nest into softly rippling spirals, and he longed to wrap them around his fingers. As the firelight flickered gently over her exposed skin he finally admitted to himself for the first time that he thought her beautiful. But his attraction to her was overshadowed by the guilt he felt at treating her so badly, and he knew he would have to take the potion he had grabbed from his lab in order to make him hard enough to assault her again. He felt it necessary to maintain the semblance of control over her, for Voldemort's eyes at least. Gods, he hated himself.
Snape pushed more memories at her several in quick succession, almost more emotion than image. He was transfixed by the way the water trickled slowly down her glistening back as he ran a cloth tenderly across her shoulders. The almost tangible aura of her anger and shame was all that prevented his from pressing his lips to her wet skin, and Hermione could feel his almost overwhelming sense of longing for something he did not yet understand.
She felt his jolt of arousal, quickly tempered down, as her hair suddenly puffed out in a golden halo around her head at his silent spell. With her skin pink and glowing from the hot bath and her mane wild about her face she looked well and truly shagged. And petrified. She clearly thought she knew what was coming next. Merlin, what kind of monster am I?
He ran his fingers down her cheek, wishing that her expression was something other than hate and distrust. He missed the warmth with which she treated him when she had her memories. He'd had enough hatred to last ten lifetimes. What had he done to be cursed so…? Dammit! You can't afford to be weak now…
She was sprawled out on the floor, unconscious, tear tracks beginning to dry on her bloodless cheeks. I don't want to do this anymore. This is too hard! Damn them both for insisting that she stay. He knelt down and pulled her into his arms, as much to comfort himself as her.
A strange, unfamiliar feeling crept over him as he gently brushed through her hair as she sat before him on the floor. He'd never had someone to sit back with like this, to care for. He wouldn't mind spending his evening like this, comfortable and quiet together in front of the fire. It was a type of peaceful domesticity that he had never experienced, even as a child. The scent of her hair and the warmth against his legs seemed to soothe his aching soul. If only he could forget she wasn't there by choice. He realised suddenly that his fingers were gripped tightly in her hair and forced himself to unclench his fist. Am I really so un-loveable that no-one has ever wanted this with me?
Hermione saw her own tear-stained face, distraught and worried that she wouldn't be able to please him. If you only knew… He struggled not to pull her into his arms to comfort her.
"I'm yours…" His heart seemed to skip a beat at her earnest declaration. Yes, mine… He studied her skin by moonlight. She was so beautiful, so pure. How could he ever be worthy of her? She would be gone as soon as she could and he would be alone once more. Perhaps it would be better to be dead than to be forever wishing for something I can't have…
She reached up to kiss him, and he allowed himself a moments weakness before pulling away. She didn't know what she was doing. It was far better to put a stop to this now before he foolishly got his hopes up.
She stood before him, having come back in time for some reason she wouldn't explain, trying to convince him that she truly felt something for him. Her eyes burned into his, almost as if she was trying to tell him something, and for the briefest of moment he slipped into her mind. He could feel her terror and desperation, as well as a strong need for him in that moment. What made him finally relent though, was the flash of memory where he saw himself, motionless and bloody. For a moment he fought with his conscience, but selfishly decided that if he was going to die, he may as well take his one offered moment of happiness. He pulled her towards him.
He lay with her in his arms, his heart full with the realisation that he loved her. She was still better off without him. The last half hour had been more than he could ever have imagined, her fervour for him as strong as his for her. He'd had no other experience that could possibly compare, and he allowed himself a brief moment to imagine a possible future. Hermione's heart was almost full to bursting as she caught sight of evenings reading together in front of the fire, nights of passion, and even a glimpse of a dark eyed, curly haired baby bouncing on one knee. Stupid fantasies…
He pressed his lips to her forehead, denying himself once final taste of her sweet lips. He had to be strong, knowing what he would face in the coming hours.
He caught sight of her, pale and unsure as she watched him bleed out, and wished that she'd understood in that moment that he was doing this for her, for a better future without him holding her back. Would she ever understand what he did for her? Lily might have been the reason he had started on the long journey that had led him here, but Hermione was the reason he went to the end so willingly. My love…
The intense anguish of what he believed to be his final moments assaulted Hermione as she watched and felt them, and she began to weep silently. How could he think himself so worthless that she'd be better off without him? Did he still believe that?
He knew his anger at her for saving him was irrational, but he couldn't help feel cheated of his noble death. It was as if she'd thrown his noble sacrifice back in his face, despite the fact she could have had no clue of what he was doing and why. He felt tricked, she'd made him believe he was going to die, and he'd made his peace with it. Snape was vaguely aware he wasn't thinking clearly, his chest was agony, his thought sluggish and slow. If he'd been fully lucid he would have realised that using the time-turner wasn't the best plan, although he'd been able to see no other way of escaping her in that moment. He was still so intent on giving her that chance for life without him, all he could see was that by giving her time, she would have had the chance to move on with her life when he reappeared. His heart clenched painfully and he fell, dropping the time-turner. Time began to spin around him, but he was insensate within seconds.
Climbing back into consciousness felt like what he imaged what hitting a brick wall at a hundred miles an hour would be like. To his horror the first voice he was able to understand was hers, and before he could even think clearly he was turning from her, hurting her with his rejection.
He wasn't ready to see her, not really, although he'd already decided he would come to claim her when he was. But Minerva had purposely not told him that Hermione was leaving until the feast had ended, when she'd already left the castle. He'd panicked, as she'd clearly hoped he would, and apparated right onto the platform before he could think twice. It was too late, the train was already leaving. Apparating onto a moving vehicle was difficult, although he was capable of it, but the moment he saw her through the window, staring back at him with big hopeful eyes he'd frozen, unable to go after her. It was too soon. He still had too much to deal with, not least the way he'd been forced to treat her. She may have forgiven him, but he still needed to forgive himself.
The image of the train faded, along with the almost overwhelming feeling of his love that had blanketed her. As the room around her came back into focus, Hermione found herself wrapped up in Snape's arm, her palms pressed against his back, pulling him to her just as he held her against him. Their faces were so close their lips were almost touching, their eyes still glued to each other's.
For a moment she thought about kissing him, but he pulled his head back slightly, keeping one arm wrapped around her as he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his other hand. Merlin, it felt so good to be in his arms again. He smelled so amazing that she wanted to bury her face in his chest. Then he spoke.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to come, but I needed to make peace with my own actions before I could allow myself to let you back into my life."
Hermione said nothing, just watched and waited for him to continue.
"I've been talking to the staff at Hogwarts, as well as some of the members of the Order, both giving and receiving apologies for that last year, although I think I had far more to be sorry for than all of them put together. It did help me to remember why my actions were necessary, and not something I would have done if I'd had the choice. I don't think it was until I went out to Diagon Alley, my first time out in public, that I really understood. It wasn't just the people, although I admit I was surprised to find myself so… popular. It was the difference… between two years ago and now. Before there was a feeling of something… wrong, that had pervaded every part of our world. The contrast now… you perhaps cannot see it as clearly, as you have been part of the effort to restore it all."
Hermione shook her head slightly, but chose not to disagree. She'd been holed up at Hogwarts, and hadn't been part of any of the wider efforts to rebuild, although she understood what he meant, having seen the difference at the school.
Snape continued. "The lack of fear… it's different even from what it was like after the first war. There was always the sense of something lingering, or waiting, something rotting underneath. You and your friends have only ever known that, so you probably just accepted it as part of our world, but I remember what it was like before the Dark Lord grew powerful. Now it's like… clean air after a storm." He shrugged slightly. "I don't know how to describe it. But it's what I fought for, why I bullied my way through years of teaching, why I agreed to kill Dumbledore," he paused, looking deep into her eyes. "…Why I had to treat you the way I did."
"You don't need to explain or apologise to me, Severus. I knew what I was getting myself into, and I forgave you for it then."
"I know you did, but I didn't believe I deserved it then. I had to grant myself forgiveness first before I could accept yours."
"And have you… forgiven yourself I mean."
"Yes, that's one reason I knew for sure I had stopped loving Lily, and why I knew I was ready to see you." He held her closer. "I told you… a long time ago, for you at least, that only time would tell if you could truly forgive me for what I did. Do you… do you still forgive me?" His words were sure, but there was still the glimmer of a doubt shining in his eyes.
She smiled up at him, pulling one hand away from his back so she could run her fingers down his cheek. Oh, how she'd dreamed of touching him so for the past two years. "I forgive you, Severus," she whispered, before slipping her fingers round the back of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.
It was chaste at first, although the feel of his lips against hers was nearly too much for her. She'd been waiting for this for so long, she could almost believe he was a figment of her imagination. Her mouth opened slightly, her tongue coming out to flick at the crease of his lips and with a groan he responded the same way, pulling her firmly against his body, his arms tight around her that Hermione could barely breathe or hear anything over the pounding in her ears. She wasn't aware of anything over the pounding in her ears, wasn't aware of anything beyond the feel of his arms his chest, his lips. In that moment nothing else existed.
When they finally parted both their chests were heaving and Hermione could feel her legs trembling. She peered up almost coyly at him. His eyes were dark and liquid, and he looked down at her as if she was part of a dream that would end any moment. Hermione was sure her own expression was similar.
"Hermione," his voice was low and husky, and sent a new shiver of delight through her. "It took me long enough to admit it to myself, but you must know by now that I…" He cut of as the door to the library swung open with a loud creak, and Harry barrelled through.
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Memories of Deception