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In Their Hands Complete	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 19649 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
A/N: Professorflo – Glad you enjoyed this chapter.

Portia – Holy crap indeed :)

Rosajean – I don’t mind a cliffie ;)

Remarkable – Wow. Thank you for your generous review. You give me far too much credit for a completely considered approach but I have enjoyed trying to nut out the dynamics for this one. I appreciate you recommending it to others. ‘I'm slower than a frozen sloth at updating my own.’ – LOL. I can’t seem to get away from it until it’s finished which creates an equally unproductive outcome for the rest of my life. :)

Lovey_reader – I’m glad you liked the twists again. I always love your response. Hey, don’t apologise, I don’t expect reviews from anyone. I consider myself very lucky when people take the time but I know everyone is busy. However, I was worried that you might have fallen ill or something. I hope you are fighting fit again (that’s an Australianism for wellness in case you were wondering ;)). Xx

LeWyKi – I love how you can summarise a bunch of chapters so eloquently. That ‘big picture’ thinking is going to serve you well for thesis writing. Again, your thoughts were helpful with sorting my ideas for coming chapters. I’m glad to hear your Professors are taking an interest in your project. It usually only happens when they can see a research paper or two coming out of it so hopefully that will be the end result. Sounds like an interesting project – hearing perception and . . . ? Hope you enjoyed your Easter break.

Oracle – ‘I’m curious what they’ve been up to (hint hint)’ – hahah! that may have to be something left up to your active imagination :) ‘Was the pot throwing just a nice visual, or is Snape’s pot going to show up later?’ – hmmm, good question . . . I know you don’t want the answer. ‘And he WAS jealous of Lynch :)’ – oooh yeah. ‘She’s letting out her sexuality in her own head too’ – yes, and she’s swearing more, did you notice? I’m much more comfortable in this zone. ‘I spy your pitch and obscured, tricky girl :)’ – LOL! I can’t get much past you these days. ‘And you followed it with my predilection for following directions and a satisfying “good girl.” How deliciously apropos’ – you are absolutely onto me. Yes, I think I probably over-pitched the last chapter, but when you’re onto a good thing, it’s hard to let go ;). ‘That is so fucked up.’ – Totally, and yet it’s what I thought right back when I first saw the movie, weird huh? ‘You’re the queen of twists.’ – And yet I’m not so good at Twister, can you believe that :D ‘Will it alter his plans’ – good question. Your thoughts were most helpful for me to navigate this minefield. Still tiptoeing through it at the moment. ‘I’m on the edge of my seat’ – I hope that’s not messing with your back ;)

MzPearlz – I love your musings. Yes, all legitimate questions (and half questions :)) I’m glad you’re enjoying the word play ;)

Chapter 13 – Backhander

“Mr Mollison, is it okay if I call you Shaun?”

His wavy brown hair was still damp from his morning shower. “Of course,” he nodded.

“Did you shave yourself today, Shaun?” It was the first time Hermione had seen him without his reddish facial hair.

“All by myself.” He smiled at his own self-deprecation.

“You must be feeling a lot better.”

“Well, if I’d tried it when I first arrived I would have been at risk of slashing my own throat.”

Hermione nodded. There had been very little he was capable of upon his arrival. Even eating had been difficult.

“How is your training going?”

“Good. I’m feeling stronger every day. Luna’s been great. She’s a huge motivator. Even if she is threatening to wipe the floor with me.” He gave a small chuckle. “I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for her.”

Hermione was struck, again, by how calm he looked now that the tics and convulsions of the Cruciatus were barely marring his features. The mirror treatment and physical therapy seemed to be working remarkably well. And it was this that had her in two minds about whether it would be beneficial to attempt to address the source of his guilt. She decided to take a slightly circuitous route.

“Tell me your thoughts on voyeurism.”

He studied her for a moment before shrugging. “Isn’t that the world’s new fascination? A sick and sordid interest in other people’s lives? Muggle reality television? Social media?”

“But that’s not so much of a problem for the Wizarding World is it?”

“Isn’t it? Why does everyone indulge in that pathetic rag, the Daily Prophet? For the riveting news items or the trumped up reports on people’s private lives? I’ve been thinking that it won’t be long before we get our own versions—‘FaceParchment’? or ‘SkeeterFeed’?”

Hermione laughed, surprised by his wit. She was also more than aware of the growing nexus between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. No doubt he was right.

“You said ‘sick and sordid interest’. Does it have to be?”

He shrugged again. “You tell me.”

It was a good point. Could sick and sordid be used to describe an entire societal predilection?

“Do you think watching others for sexual gratification is wrong?” Hermione leaned back in her seat.

“Is it any different to watching others for emotional or intellectual gratification?”

She considered his words.

“Or worse, to revel in other people’s tragedies.”

“Is that what we do?”

“Of course. We watch other people’s lives to make us feel better about our own. We watch other people’s sadness to be glad that we don’t have to experience it ourselves. Is that more honourable than wanking over someone beautiful when they’re unaware of it?”

Hermione chewed her lip before responding. “You don’t seem to harbour any guilt about that, Shaun. Can you tell me what the source of your discontent is?”

A sudden spasm captured him. It was as though her words had woken the sleeping Cruciatus, causing it to rear its ugly head.

“It’s . . . “ His face twisted. “It’s the irresponsibility—the disconnect from the object of desire. It allows you to feel less about them than you should—a type of . . . selfishness.”

Hermione felt like she almost understood what he was saying but that she didn’t have enough detail. If only he could . . .

He shook his head violently. “I’ve got to stop . . . talking about it. It . . . It’s not good for me.”

Hermione suddenly felt guilt-ridden, herself, concerned that she may have set back his progress.

“I’m sorry Shaun. I shouldn’t have . . . “

“No. You have a job to do Dr Granger. I . . . ” He grimaced. “I respect that.”

She let out the breath she automatically seemed to hold when watching his contortions. Although grateful for his reassuring words, she didn’t feel deserving of his respect, not as he writhed before her in pain.

***

“Tell me your thoughts on voyeurism.”

Luna smiled. Since she’d stopped wearing her head garment, her facial expressions had become much more evident. Hermione found herself piecing together more and more elements of her old friend, like a holographic puzzle, each time they met up.

“George said he’d told you about my spying,” Luna responded without embarrassment. “When you can’t participate in life, watching people who can is sometimes enough.”

“But you are participating. More and more every day.”

“I am. But there are things that I will never do. And ways that I will never be. Hermione, I’m scarred for life and I’ve accepted that.” Luna’s silvery eyes were wide and seemed almost omniscient to Hermione in that moment. “But it has made me even more determined to experience the beauty in life, even if I can’t add to it in the ways that I want to.”

Luna put her hand on Hermione’s knee. “I can’t tell you how uplifting it was to watch you and Professor Snape. Two exquisitely beautiful creatures finding pleasure in one another. It was like art, Hermione. Not at all sordid or dirty. I felt alive watching you—that life can go on and I can still enjoy it. You asked my thoughts on voyeurism? For me it feels like a blessing. To be able to live vicariously is better than not being able to live at all.”

In the past, Hermione knew that she would have had difficulty accepting what Luna was saying. Her embarrassment about being caught in such a compromised position, performing a lewd act on a patient, would have had her retreating into herself and battening down the hatches against the fallout. But her overwhelming sense, now, was one of empathy. And it wasn’t just for Luna, it was for Shaun, too. She understood them.

Luna gave her an encouraging smile. “And I want to watch you both again.”

“Oh . . . “

***

Snape sat opposite her for the first time. As soon as he’d entered her office, he’d made his way to the chairs in the corner, taking one so that she could take the other, their knees hovering only an inch or two apart. She’d not wanted to talk to him any further after her confession the previous day—too drained, both physically and emotionally, to consider it. Now he watched her quietly. She could sense he was giving her time and space to speak, but for some reason she couldn’t work out how to begin.

“Lynch has agreed to let you use the kitchen during the day to brew for Luna,” she said. “Or to make anything else you might need.”

Snape nodded.

Hermione returned her gaze to the paper on her lap, staring at the blank lines. Then she sighed heavily. “I don’t regret anything we have done so far. On the whole, it has been helpful for me. I can already feel that it has changed my outlook even though, as you can imagine, it has been difficult.”

Snape drew a finger along his upper lip as he listened.

“I don’t want our arrangement to change,” she continued. “And I don’t want you to approach me any differently. There is a good reason I am the way I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to change.”

He inhaled deeply, a concerned frown furrowing his brow.

“Are you comfortable to continue as we have been?” She fixed her brown eyes on him.

He paused before responding. “Had I been aware of your past, I would not have approached you at all. To force you to address your trauma in the way that we have, if I had been aware, would have been unconscionable. As it is, I still have reservations.”

Hermione nodded. “I understand and I’m honestly grateful for your concern. Perhaps we need some time to consider how best to move forward with my teachings. In the meantime, I would like to continue with your treatment under our current arrangement.”

He tensed a little but didn’t mount any objection. So she continued.

“I’d like you to ejaculate during sexual intercourse.” She looked at him directly, aware that she needed to show a degree of conviction in this dynamic.

He crossed his arms and cleared his throat. “What type of intercourse?”

“Your choice.”

It was important for her to provide him with some options so he didn’t feel completely manipulated or trapped.

“Internal or external ejaculation?”

“Again, you can choose.”

He raised his chin and peered at her. “Now?”

“Umm.” She looked at her watch. “Yes, my slot is pretty free.”

***

Hermione rolled her face to the side and spat the hair from her mouth. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d chosen this position. Face-down on the bed, she couldn’t make eye contact with him, reducing the intimacy. And, if she’d pegged him right, she would find him pulling out before the end. It would be interesting to see where and how he chose to ejaculate.

Right now, his hand was in the middle of her back, pushing her down as he slid into her with smooth strokes. She was, however, becoming less concerned about her head being buried in the mattress, as it happened to feel decidedly incredible and he was hitting all sorts of spots inside her that made her want to scream into the bedcovers. Instead, she settled for just moaning and trying to breathe.

He was very quiet except for the occasional grunt as he slammed into her. She wanted to hear more and so pushed back into him, squeezing her pelvic floor muscles. There was a gasp and a groan, then he picked up the pace.

“Fuck,” she hissed into the mattress. That had backfired. Actually, to be honest it was exactly what she'd wanted.

One of his large hands grasped the flesh around her hip bone while the other slid around and slotted down between her legs to massage her clitoris.

“Uuhhhh,” she moaned, feeling the tension winding up inside her. The depth of his penetration had him butting into her cervix, shaking the foundations of her restraint with each thrust.

As he rammed into her, his balls slapped against her backside and she heard his breathing turn ragged. The hair hanging over her face billowed with each of her breathy moans and she knew she was close.

His fingers jiggled at her clitoris as he pulled her into him on each stroke, squeezing an extra few millimetres of straining cock into her clenching channel.

“Gods!” Her voice was muffled by the bedcovers as she began to convulse. Her pussy pulsed and jerked around his ramming cock, squeezing and sucking at him, encouraging his balls to follow suit. He continued to batter her, making her head bounce against the bed as he strummed her clitoris. Then, riding the spasmodic tics of her sheath at increasing speed, she suddenly heard him grunt and felt him pull out.

There was a long drawn-out hiss as she felt his warm come spattering over her lower back and running down between her cheeks. And then his hand followed, rubbing his seed into her skin as his laboured breathing gradually receded.

She needed to see his face. As she rolled over, he collapsed on top of her and she saw the surprise in his black eyes. Before she knew what she was doing, she lunged up and captured his lips within hers.

A split second later, his hand was on her jaw, holding her down.

“That . . . was not part . . . of our . . . agreement.” His chest billowed against hers in agitation.

“I’m sorry,” she replied in small voice.

Pushing himself away, he dressed in a wandless flourish before disappearing out the door.

***

Hermione stumbled down the path to the river, a confused whirlwind of thoughts sailing through her mind. She’d dressed hurriedly and tried to follow him but he’d gone. Now she just needed air. And the solace of running water.

Before she’d rounded the final bend she heard a shout, followed by laughter. The view that met her was surprising to say the least. Dennis and Sarah were in the river. Dennis’ naked torso was as pale as the reflected autumn sky as he splashed Sarah who ducked under the water and rose, moments later, behind him. They must have been freezing but there was no sign of discomfort as they leapt and splashed about.

“Dr Granger, come in!” Dennis beckoned when he caught sight of her on the river bank.

Hermione shook her head. “You must be freezing.”

“It’s a little chilly,” he laughed. “Can you cast a warming spell on us?”

Hermione grinned and pulled her wand from her pocket before casting spells on both of them.

“Ahhhh,” Dennis cried. “Warm as a bath!”

Hermione very much doubted it but Sarah nodded in agreement.

“Come on!” Dennis called out again. “It’s balm for the soul!”

Hermione laughed and was about to reply that she was too old. She was only twenty-seven. Why did she feel so old? Why did she act so old? Where had her youth gone?

“Fuck it,” she murmured under her breath before pulling off her coat and scarf. Sarah seemed to be only wearing her bra and knickers and Hermione pretty well only wore dark practical underwear (of course). Peeling off everything else, she cast a hasty warming spell on herself before heading to the water’s edge and, taking a deep breath, plunging in. Despite the warming spell, the water was icy when it first hit her. She had trouble drawing breath but then the heat settled around her and it became rather pleasant. Dennis was right, Hermione felt both refreshed and soothed as she was engulfed by the happy gurgle of the water.

Something grabbed her hand. “Isn’t it glorious?” Sarah sighed with a beatific smile, locking her fingers with Hermione’s.

“It is that.” Hermione returned the smile as they spun around before collapsing in the water.

Dennis climbed onto the bank before diving in and spraying water over them both. Splashing him in return, Hermione kicked away. She lay on her back, the world growing silent except for the bubbly whoosh of water lapping at her ears. The dark silhouettes of migrating birds tracked across the sky above her and then a bird, bigger than the rest, glided into view. It took a few moments before she realised what it was.

Lynch performed a weekly fly-over on his broom to check the area surrounding the Retreat. Sometimes he found animals in distress or trees that had blown over and blocked trails. Today, he found one of his therapists splashing around in the river with the patients on a cold autumn afternoon in her underwear. Slowly, he lowered the broom down to the riverbank before dismounting.

Hermione waded back to the bank and climbed out, wondering what he was going to say.

“Dr Granger,” he nodded, a note of amusement in his voice.

“Mr Lynch,” she said hurriedly, scrambling up the bank to her clothes. She’d somehow expected him to turn away since she was only clad in skimpy wet underwear. Instead, he watched her with interest.

“Are you looking to catch your death of cold?” he asked.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she muttered, casting drying spells on herself before attempting to pull on her top.

“Ah, come here.” Suddenly she had Lynch’s coat draped around her shoulders as he picked up her bundle of clothes. With one strong arm he lifted her onto the front of the broom and took off.

He was a superb flyer and, despite her precarious position, she didn’t feel unsafe. Within half a minute they were back at the Retreat. Gently, he lowered them onto the path by the front door.

“Thank you.” She was secretly glad for the ride, as it had really started to cool down.

“You’re welcome m’lady,” he replied with a nod.

Hermione grabbed her clothes from him and turned.

Snape stood by the front door, one hand on the doorhandle.

“Professor,” she squeaked in surprise.

“Dr Granger.” His voice was low and even but his eyes burned her.

Before she had a chance to respond, he pushed through the door and closed it.

Something that had been rolling around in her mind suddenly crystallised. That gesture earlier. Rubbing his come into her back. She hadn’t thought about its significance at the time but now she was confident she knew what it meant.

Ownership.
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In Their Hands *Complete*

In Their Hands Complete