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Debaucery Complete	By : Desert_Sea Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 26266 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- 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
- 13
- 14
- 15
A/N: LR - Just a tiny bit. Although I do try to update regularly :)
Kvarta – ‘We all know that those guys are more fragile than fine china under that armour they build around themselves.’ – Indeed, that’s our Severus. ‘You managed to make hell sounds so...appealing’ – hahaha – if it’s full of beasts like that, I could put up with it. Don’t claw your walls out or chew your fingers off – LOL. Chapter delivered. Although, I don’t guarantee a resolution . . . yet. ;)
OO – ‘I'll bring you lots of chocolate licorice to keep you going in your new writing dungeon’ – hahah, it might keep me doing other things too. ‘He can't go out in blaze of glory (hopefully)’ – he just loves a dramatic ending though . . . but you’re right the goal has changed. Who doesn’t love a sexual taco? :)
Ali – ‘Naughty jammie dodger’ – hahahah – brilliant, never been called that before! And now I’m all jealous that you saw AR in the flesh – how wonderful. You are so fortunate to have access to wonderful productions and amazing actors live – not something we see much of down here. Of course, all up for anything that sweetens life along the way. Hopefully your BP is up to what is to come! ;)

Chapter 14 - Sybartful

Gone.
Severus lurched forward, blinking into the murky light. He fanned his arm over the quilt. Cold. The magical lamp they’d fallen asleep under no longer burned; it must have been extinguished sometime in the night. Sliding his long, bare legs from the bed, he thrust himself up and strode toward the tent door, a flick of his hand causing his clothes to leap up and coalesce around him such that he was fully dressed as he stepped into a bitter dawn.
She had gone. He felt it. Her tent lay as she’d pitched it, her pack leaning by the entrance. But even as he approached, he knew that she wasn’t inside. Or even nearby. The only sound that came to him was the dull rumble of the distant waterfall.
Had she simply had enough and left? Had he mis-read the cues? She’d seemed to enjoy their time together as much as he had. But maybe she’d wanted more—a commitment to join her—to leave?
After only this short time could he have given it? The tightness in his chest as her absence sank in told him that the answer was, ‘yes.’ He wished now that he’d been man enough to tell her, that he’d dispensed with his longstanding failure to commit, and spilled the truth.
He wanted her. And not just sexually. It was an entirely foreign concept, especially in recent years, but he found that he wanted her for himself. He wasn’t prone to jealousy—there was always plenty of pussy to go around—but the thought of anyone else lying beneath her naked body, feeling her gentle hands caressing them, having her tucked possessively beneath their chin, made him grind his teeth. And, more significantly, he wanted to be hers. He could finally admit that he had wanted her to interfere all along.
He’d never had that. Not genuinely. Women wanted him for what he could give them, most often sex. But she cared about him—cared what happened to him. Despite everything he’d done to discourage her, she continued to care. And she’d forgiven him. He didn’t deserve it but she’d forgiven him and, despite her disapproval, she’d fucked him. And he’d enjoyed it. And so had she. So where the fuck was she?
“Hermione?”
Silence.
He narrowed his black eyes, peering into the gloom around the campsite.
“Lumos,” he muttered, holding his wand aloft and turning in a slow circle.
His stomach lurched.
Tracks. He saw animal tracks. And something else. A disturbance. Something was being dragged.
“Oh Gods, fuck!” he moaned, fear welling in his chest.
Crouching, he trailed his fingers through a furrow of disturbed ashes. He lifted them to the light. Blood. A wave of dread washed over him, swamping him so completely that he toppled to his knees.
A single sob broke from his chest before he reined it in with a grimace. This was his fault. He’d done this to her. He’d kept her there with him—even when he’d known how dangerous it was. It was pure selfishness. And he hadn’t even set his fucking wards!
He ground a fist against his thigh, eyes screwed shut in pain. His mind was so fucked up that he wasn’t even capable of protecting her. How could he forget his fucking wards? He’d obviously been so concerned about getting his leg over that he’d ignored all of his training, all of the precautions he would have taken as a matter of course.
“For fuck’s sake!” he choked.
He’d always blamed Lily for not choosing him. He’d convinced himself that if she’d been with him, he could have protected her—it was her own foolish choices that had killed her. And yet that was clearly untrue. He and Hermione had been walking into danger for five days. He’d known exactly what was required to protect her and he simply hadn’t done it. Lily wouldn’t have been safe with him either. No doubt, he would have managed to fuck that up too. He could no longer blame her for her fate. Or Hermione for not waking him. Or his father for being a drunken asshole. Or Dumbledore for asking too much of him.
A fucking hero? What a fucking joke. He was a fuck-up and the shame of it all was immense—crushing down upon him, looking to eliminate him like some cowardly cockroach.
He knelt in the ashes for so long that he lost feeling in his wand hand, his iron grip turning his fist cold and deathly pale. He could do himself in then and there. At least it would be preferable to waiting for them to take him too. She might well be dead already. What would be the point in seeing it for himself—in witnessing what his selfishness had perpetrated?
But what if she wasn’t? What if she was waiting for him to rescue her? And here he was, kneeling in the dirt like a useless shit?
He sighed heavily, wiping his wrist across his eyes. There would be no element of surprise—not that there was ever going to be one. If what he suspected was true, they’d likely known he and Hermione were approaching all along.
He would simply walk in there and offer himself in her place. It was the best he could do. Her life was worth a thousand of his. She was brilliant. And she would do things that mattered.
Staggering to his feet, he stumbled around the cold fire and headed toward the plain.
At least he might get to see her again. In what state it was impossible to tell. He hated the thought of it ending like this—he’d stupidly dared to imagine playing chess with her on a proper board, sampling more of her fucking excellent cooking, and sleeping in her bedroom—making her love it with him in there.
He blinked the glassy sheen from his eyes. And, as he’d done all his life, he pushed the pain down. There was always the chance that they wouldn’t let either of them go—that he and Hermione would die together. That thought, along with so many others that were still festering, unresolved, he shut away behind a layer of cold ruthlessness. It was little more than a shield, a tough metallic skin that he’d cultivated. But it had at least allowed him to survive.
He’d adopted that persona surprisingly easily—the debaucherous asshole. And it had suited him. He’d enjoyed it—the brief periods of reprieve from this pain, this constant ache. And now he needed to bring it back. The last thing Hermione needed was a blubbering mess turning up to mourn what could have been.
Severus’ stride lengthened, his cool determination had returned. He flicked a cigarette from the packet, catching it between his lips, before lighting and sucking on it in one motion, drawing in a deep lungful as he forged on toward the fiery glow of the rising sun.
***
Wand in hand, he strode from the Apparition point to a rocky clearing by the mountain path. He was near the entrance to one of the many caves that supplied the convoluted network that he knew to exist within. The ground was stirred up with so many prints, it was impossible to discern what was what, but he’d followed the tracks from the campsite to the Apparition point on the plains. She was in there somewhere, he was certain of it.
Positioning himself behind a large boulder, he flicked his wand, casting an incantation that he’d devised himself a few years before. He’d called it, ‘Sky Eye’—both a reference to the fact that he’d been on a massive bender at the time, and a quite literal description of what it did. The small orb, now floating above his head, transmitted a remote image of the view from the ocular aperture on its underside. He’d originally devised it as a clandestine means of stalking certain women he fancied—usually to ensure that there wasn’t some pugnacious partner that would object to him fucking their missus. Now he grimly acknowledged the fact that this was the first time he’d used it for something worthwhile.
Using his wand, Severus directed the hovering globe around the boulder and into the cave entrance. Via the eye, he viewed the shadowy interior of a tunnel that seemed to stretch deep into the mountain. There was very little light as he guided the globe past the expansive walls, large enough to accommodate numerous trolls and ogres, before rounding a bend to encounter a magical torch in a sconce attached high on the rocky wall.
Gliding the orb further, he came to a junction. Using his wand to remotely swivel the eye left and right, he made the arbitrary decision to turn left. The tunnel floor was littered with prints of all types but it was impossible to tell if she’d been brought this way. The tunnel opened up as he continued, expanding into what appeared to be a cavernous room. In the faint glow of multiple torches scattered about the walls, he could see the glimmering forms of dozens of huge creatures curled inside nests. Despite the variety of colours and sizes, he instantly knew what they were—dragons. Many more than he’d anticipated.
After gliding the globe back and forth, scanning the cavern and its hoard of scaly sleeping bodies, he decided it was unlikely that Hermione would have been brought there—unless she was intended as a snack, and that wasn’t something he intended to dwell on. Retracing the eye’s original path, he returned to the junction and took the right hand tunnel, soon discovering signs of a scuffle, deep grooves in the dirt and what looked like blood smeared along one wall.
He was instantly buoyed by the discovery. It seemed that she’d fought them all the way—of course she had. And if they hadn’t killed her before now, there was a chance she was still alive.
Following the clear signs of disturbance along each tunnel, he was able to navigate a further half dozen intersections before making his way into a room that was unexpectedly complete, with an open door, boards on the floors and painted stone walls. As he guided the globe inside, he saw furniture—a desk, a table with four chairs and even a large grandfather clock in the corner. As he rounded the curved wall, he saw her, shackled by the wrists to a large metal ring attached to the wall. She looked a mess, her matted hair was strewn with sticks and leaves, her clothes torn, body grazed and bleeding as it sagged against the stone. But worst of all were her eyes, those beautiful caramel eyes, now wide, fearful and shot with blood. But she was alive. And his heart soared.
Two closed doors led off the room but he was unable to open them remotely. He thought of trying to somehow communicate with her but by the time he was able to inform her that he was there, he could just about be with her in the flesh.
Dipping the tip of his wand, he dismissed the ‘Sky Eye’ and muttered the incantation for a ‘Shadow-hugging spell’ that would allow him to blend into the gloom of the tunnels. It was risky being there at all—entering the caves was basically suicide. But he’d known that from the start. He’d already decided what he was prepared to do so he slipped out of his hiding place and marched swiftly into the darkness of the cave.
Following the route that the orb had taken, he fortunately, or perhaps at the nefarious will of another, managed to make his way to the room without encountering a single beast of any kind. As he entered the door, he couldn’t shake the distinct feeling that he was walking into a trap. She was the bait—the terribly broken but still strikingly beautiful bait.
He wasted no time getting to her, wrapping his arms protectively around her bloody limbs, even as she grunted, nodding her head at whatever had come through the door behind him.
She was desperately trying to warn him, screaming through the gag around her mouth. But he didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.
A low growl sounded behind him, and then a voice, gravelly and animalistic but oddly familiar.
“You always did have the nose for this type of thing, didn’t you?”
Severus didn’t turn, keeping his arms wrapped around Hermione as he responded,
“Mr Parsons, what a pleasant surprise.”
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- 15
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Debaucery *Complete*

Debaucery Complete