Damaged Goods | By : shelia Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 7700 -:- 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. |
Part 15
You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.
--Aldous Leonard Huxley, British writer
“Really, Miss Granger,” a cold voice made her jump, dropping the knife. “These pathetic attempts at taking your life must stop.”
Hermione looked up to see Snape standing in the doorway, his face stern his eyes hard. As he strode towards her, she had the impression that he was death with black wings as his robes billowed behind him.
“It would seem,” he said, his voice low and silky, noting the shallow cuts on her left wrist, “that you are a failure at even this.” She winced as if slapped.
Standing beside her now, he picked up the knife, sliding his finger across the edge. “First rule,” he instructed as if teaching class, “is to make sure bla blade is razor sharp. A dull blade causes pain and pain will lead to hesitation and frustration.”
She jumped as he grabbed her hair, pulling her head back as she gazed up at his impassive face. “Second rule, find the spot that will be most effective.” She gasped as he pulled the blade lightly across her neck. His eyes held hers a moment, dark and fathomless.
He released her and laid the knife on the table. Tears were running down her cheeks now as he set a small brown vial before her. “Or better still take this.”
She ed aed at the bottle “A quick acting poison, Miss Granger.” She shivered at his voice, not realizing he had bent down to speak directly into her ear. “No pain, no second thoughts. You will be dead before you remove your lips from the bottle.”
He moved away watching her intently. Picking up the bottle, she held it before her watching the liquid swirl as she rolled it in her hand.
“NO!” Hermione stood and threw the bottle at him. Severus sidestepped, allowing it to smash against the wall.
“Pity,” he said coldly as he unfolded the letter.
Her eyes widened as she saw it, realizing he had taken it from her robes. “Don’t,” she pleaded.
“Don’t? Miss Granger really, I do as I please,” he replied mockingly, reading the letter out loud.
Hermione,
The summer is almost upon us and I take this opportunity to remind you of my invitation. Surely you have not forgotten.
Though it seems that Draco no longer desires your company, I find myself looking forward to it. I suspect you were a bit more than he can handle. I should have broken you in more for him, a matter I will rectify when I see you again rest assured.
A strange rumor has reached my ears, my dear little mudblood. It would seem you do have a desire for the darkness. I have heard that you have been bestowing your favors on my dear friend Severus. I find this hard to believe, though not of you. I would have thought you would have noticed that your beloved Potions Master does not have a taste for young ladies. His disdain for them has been noted not only by myself, but also by others.
Perhaps I have taught you too well and you have made our dear Snape to see the errors of his ways. It does not matter, I don’t mind sharing as long as you remember that I am your master.
In two short weeks you will be boarding the train. I suggest you save us both the trouble and wait for me in Hogsmeade. I do not have to remind you what will happen if I have to come to your house to collect you once more.
I know you will do the right thing.
L. Malfoy
He gave a dry laugh. “Why would a Gryffindor, the imbeciles that value courage above all else, be afraid of a few words on a scrap of parchment from Lucius Malfoy? I thought perhaps you had received news of your parents death to make you take such foolish actions.”
“You really are a heartless bastard,” she said bitterly, wondering how she could have thought him otherwise.
“That I am, Miss Granger,” he purred. “You would be wise to remember.”
She was shaking with rage, her body screaming at her. Lucius. His damn letter had sent her desire into a state of spiraling darkness. She couldn’t stop it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stay away. And she wouldn’t stand for it again.
She had wanted to cut, to hurt herself, her filthy, disgusting self, that would have betrayed all that she had worked for this term, the hell she had endured from the depression and the mania that coursed through her endlessly.
Her mind was racing, visions of the time she was with Lucius flooding her senses. It would seem you do have a desire for the darkness. I do believe Hermione, that it would be very easy to persuade you into the darkness. ‘Maybe he is right,’ Hermione thought, her mind clouding as she felt the tingling in the area between her thighs and hating herself for it. ‘Perhaps Lucius awakened what was already there.’
She gazed at Professor Snape who was looking at her with a scowl on his face. ‘He really is a cruel man, a Death Eater, a man who can promise pain’ she thought vaguely as she approached him, her hips swaying provocatively, wondering what darkness he had to offer as she stopped before him, and licking her lips.
"You know Professor Snape," she said throatily, "I do believe that you are probably as well versed in the dark arts as Lucius."
Severus stood still, his face impassive though his heart tugged at him, sorrow for the girl flooding over him. He cursed himself; this what not the reaction he was hoping to get out of her; he had wanted her angry with him, to fight. He found her flirtatious behavior unsettling, knowing she was unable to stop it, as she came to him, pressing herself against his arm
“It feels good, doesn’t it Professor Snape? Powerful and erotic, to take a girl against her will,” she said, running her fingers up his arm. Severus struggled not to grab her hands and force her away. He knew that she wanted, pain, rejection, anything to make her feel unworthy.
at aat are you waiting for Professor?" she whispered, her mouth very close to his ear as she stood on her toes. She leaned in against him and caressed his cheek. “I promise, I know how to please… and how to obey. Tell me what you want,” she said as her hands moved lower. He grabbed her wrists and she smiled triumphantly.
"Miss Granger," he said coldly, "you don’t want to do this, it’s only a reaction to what you have been through."
Her eyes flashed and she snarled at. ". "A reaction? What - that I feel desire for a man? That I want to feel his hot flesh inside me? Take me Professor," she lowered her voice, smiling once more, "please master." She saw anger flash in his eyes and she smirked thinking he was going to ravish her.
His anger was not directed at her but at himself for not anticipating this. “Never call me master again.”
She pouted. “Sorry milord,” she mumbled, hanging her head.
"And not that either; no one is your master and very few men deserve the title of milord, and I am definitely not one of them."
She looked up at him, hurt etched in her face. "I am so sorry Professor Snape, I should have known that I am not worthy to think a man could look at me with anything but disgust."
‘Not again,’ Severus thought angrily. Damn the girl. Didn’t she know how desirable she could be if she ever found herself again? He released her wrists, taking her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers.
Her mouth was demanding under his, her tongue fought for entrance, which he denied. She tried to bite at his lips but he pulled his mouth off hers. “Be still girl,” he told her, flinching as she quickly obeyed.
He kissed her gently, his mouth moving softly against hers, until he felt her relax against Op Opening her mouth with his tongue, he stroked her there, exploring with no urgency. Hearing her moan, he pulled his tongue out and kissed her mouth again before moving away. She looked at him, her face a mixture of desire and confusion. “Not all men are cruel, Hermione,” he said as he turned and left the classroom.
****
Jason gave a low whistle as he stepped from behind the statue. He had ducked behind it when Snape had headed for the door. So it was true. He and Seth had only entertained the thought that the little Gryffindor was actually Snape’s ‘girl’, but after the display he just witnessed through the slightly opened door, he had little doubt. And Lucius Malfoy? Most interesting, he thought as he went to find Draco to question him further than he had the other night. He wanted more enlightenment on one Hermione Granger.
****
Dusk had fallen as Ron and Harry headed towards the castle after Madam Hooch had shooed them off the Quidditch field, reminding them it was almost curfew. They had been practicing some moves they wanted to go over for next season.
“Bother,” Harry said, nudging Ron and nodded toward the castle. “Seems we have company.” Draco and two other Slytherins were walking towards them. He didn’t like the look on Draco’s face as he led the boys over towards Ron and Harry.
“Weasley, Potter, a word,” said the tall dark haired boy with o. Ho. Harry gave Ron a warning look.
“Okay,” Harry said cautiously.
“In case you don’t know, I am Jason Lawrence and this is Seth Stevens and of course you know Draco.”
“This isn’t a garden party," Ron said irritably, "get on with it.”
“Right then, we wanted to know about your friend Granger.”
“Hermione?” Harskedsked, not liking the smug look Draco was giving him.
“Yeah, her. Tell us what’s she like?”
Ron frowned. “Why do you want to know about her?”
Jason smiled slyly. “You know what I mean Weasley. What was she like when she was under the table?” Draco and the other boy snickered.
Ron’s face flushed. “You don’t know what the bloody hell you are on about.”
“Let’s just go Ron,” Harry said quietly, starting to walk on. Jason and the other older boy stepped in front of him.
“Not so fast Potter, maybe you could tell us since Weasley seems thick. What’s she like in bed? Is she a good shag?”
Fire flashed in Harry’s eyes. “Don’t talk about Hermione that way.”
“Oh come on now, we just want to know, one mate to another, unless,” Jason said, grinning at them, “could it be you have never gotten a piece of the action?” Draco laughed. Harry turned his eyes on him, wondering what kind of rubbish he had been telling the older boys about Hermione.
“I believe you are right,” Seth said. “Seems we are wasting our time here, apparently the chit prefers Slytherins to Gryffindors.”
“Shut your gob!” Ron yelled at them, lunging towards Jason. “Hermione wouldn’t touch a Slytherin if her life depended on it!”
Harry had grabbed the back of Ron’s shirt just in time to keep him from launching headlong into Jason, though he too felt like sinking his fist into the boy’s smug face, realizing the Slytherins had sought him and Ron out to taunt them about Hermione. He was getting a sinking feeling that this was leading to something he didn’t want to know, something that would implicate the Slytherin’s head of house and her.
“Oh but you are so wrong,” Draco drawled. “The mudblood does a lot more than touch.”
“Take that back Malfoy,” Ron growled, as he and Harry drew their wands.
“Now mates this is just a friendly conversation,” Jason said. He had not drawn his wand though Seth and Draco had. “And as prefect I can take off house points,” he emphasized to them as well as the Slytherins. “Justted ted to have a chat and since you two seem to be totally naive I say we leave it at that.”
“Fine,” said Harry angrily, “but do not spread lies about Hermione. If you want to sully someone’s reputation look elsewhere.”
Jason put on an innocent face. “Lies? ‘Fraid not Potter. I have it from the proverbial horse’s mouth so to speak. Draco here…”
Ron snorted, “Like we will believe Hermione has ever let Draco touch her.”
“No? Then ask David Sebastian. He said she was a tiger when he took her in the broom closet.”
“You filthy liar!” Harry shouted at him. “What are you playing at?”
“Nothing you silly little boy,” Jason said sarcastically. “Like I said, I just wanted to know if she was any good before trying for myself. Didn’t want to put myself on the receiving end of Snape’s wrath if she wasn’t worth the bother.”
Harry’s heart jumped. “What does Snape to to do with this?” he asked, though he was afraid he knew what the answer would be.
Jason gave him another evil grin. “Let’s just say Professor Snape isn’t out of practice when it comes to giving a girl a good snogging from what I witnessed today.”
“You lie!” Ron screamed raising his wand
“Is there a problem boys?”
They saw Madam Hooch striding purposefully towards them. Evidently their raised voices had alerted her. All the boys hastily lowered their wands.
“No professor,” Jason said smiling at her. “Just a little disagreement over who would win the World Cup this year.”
She lifted her eyebrow with a ‘yeah and Hagrid will be chosen as Headmaster’ look. “Very well, I suggest you be on your way then. Separately.”
Jason nodded and the Slytherins turned to go. He stopped and turned back, looking Ron in the eye. ‘Ask her’ he mouthed and hurried to catch up with the others.
Ron was trembling with anger. “Why in Merlin’s name are they picking on Hermione?”
Harry was silent, troubled over the implication Jason had made about Snape.
ncinncing at Harry, Ron noted the look of concern. “What do you think? I mean she has acted odd this term but she seems likd Hed Hermione now.”
Biting his lip Harry looked at Ron. “There is something I should have told you,” he said, explaining about the night that Hermione was wearing Snape’s cloak.
Ron’s face paled. “You’re joking right?” he asked angrily. “It’s not funny Harry.” He turned and ran up towards the castle.
“Ron!” Harry yelled running after him though he couldn’t keep up with Ron’s longer legs.
Panting hard, he almost ran into Ron who had stopped outside the Fat Lady’s portrait. “Ron….we don’t know…why …”he gasped, holding a stitch in his side.
“Hermione can tell us why,” he said angrily.
“Ron wait, you can’t just go in accusing her.”
“And why not? She’s been acting mental. If she is seeing Snape it would explain a lot.”
“Ron,” Harry said putting a hand on his arm.
“Let me go Potter,” Ron said through clenched teeth.
“No, you can’t just…” Harry didn’t finish as Ron shoved him hard, pushing him into the wall.
“Now boys,” the Fat Lady scolded.
“Ron,” Harry tried again, scrambling to stand in front of him.
“Step aside Harry or I swear…”
“What, you will fight me? Better me than her.”
“Chocolate grasshoppers.” The portrait door swung open and Ron pushed Harry aside as he entered.
The common room was nearly empty. George, Fred, and Lee sat around the table playing a game of exploding snap while Dean and Seamus were playing chess. A few girls sat around another table laughing and whispering. Hermione and Neville were sitting in a corner studying. Ron strode towards her his jaw set.
“Hey Ron,” George started but fell silent seeing his younger brother’s angry face. Harry came running in and grabbed Ron’s arm again. The room fell silent as they saw Ron hit Harry hard in the face. H fel fell back, clutching his bloody nose.
“Damn Ron,” George and Fred were on their feet. “What is going on?” George demanded.
Ron ignored them. Reaching Hermione he pulled her roughly up out of the chair. “Tell me,” he said shaking her.
“Ron quit,” she cried, looking at him puzzled.
“Ron that’s enough,” George said moving towards them.
“Stay out of this!” he snarled at him.
“Let me go,” Hermione said angrily as a flash of light emanated between them. Ron fell back holding his hand.
“You, you….” he started.
“Don’t go there Ron,” Fred warned.
“Bitch,” Ron finished through clenched teeth. The girls gasped. Everyone was watching the display wide eyed now.
Hermione looked at him confused, tears in her eyes.
“Hermione,” Harry said, his nose still bleeding freely, “don’t listen to him…”
“Don’t listen to him,” Ron said mockingly. “Keep Ron in the dark, don’t tell Ron. I want to know!” he yelled at her, his eyes locking on hers, “how many Slytherins she’s been fucking this term!”
“That’s enough Ron!” George commanded.
“Deny it Hermione!” he shouted, ignoring George.
She looked at him with wide eyes. “I…Ron, it’s...”
He saw it, the look that told him she was hiding something.
“Damn,” he said quietly. “They were right, you are just a whore.”
Hermione struck him hard across the face. Ron raised his hand back, but Neville, who stood there pale and trembling, caught it. “Don’t know what this is about Ron,” he said his voice shaking, “but you aren’t going to hit her.”
George and Fred exchanged a look, ‘who would have thought Neville had balls’, before wresting Ron away from Neville and sitting him down hard in a chair.
“You really are a frigging prat Ron,” George said somewhat sympathetically. He had heard a few rumors, about Hermione and a Ravenclaw prefect, but it was no excuse for Ron’s behavior.
Harry stood there looking at Hermione. She was shaking and tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Hermione,” he said softly, “he didn’t mean anything. It was just some Slytherins playing a prank. He shouldn’t have believed it.”
Looking at him she gave him a haunted look. “Shouldn’t he?”
Looking around the common room she saw all eyes except Ron’s staring at her. Picking up her book, she held her head high as she started towards the portrait door. Harry started after her.
“Let her go Harry,” Fred said soberly. “She needs to have some time alone.”
Harry looked at Fred. “Perhaps,” he murmured, wondering how they were going to work through this.
****
Severus sat in his chambers, a bottle of single malt whiskey sitting on the small table before him. He downed his glass and refilled it again. Brandy was for pleasure; tonight he meant to get rip roaring drunk, Voldemort be damned if he called for him.
He had played a dangerous game with Hermione today, daring her to do what he had thus far been too cowardly to do. The poison was exactly what he had told her it was. One sip, the merest touch to the tongue and death would be swift. Lifting the glass he threw back his head downing the whiskey, allowing the fiery liquid to burn.
Though it was the first of June, his chambers were always cold and dark, just like their occupant. Staring into the fire, he wondered if he would have been quick enough to still her hand, had she uncorked the vial. Or would he have just watched, before kissing the remaining potion from her lips to join her.
His lips curled into a sneer at the tht tht that reminded him he shouldn’t have kissed her. It had been his intention to do so, but only to scare her, to roughly take her mouth, to remind her that she really did not want another man taking liberties with her. But when he had felt her so ready to bite and bruise, he had wanted something more, something foreign to him. He wanted to be gentle.
Laughing dryly, he raised his glass towards the fireplace and was rewarded with a spectrum of colors as the flames waved back to him. ‘Oh that was rich, Severus Snape wanting to be gentle.’ He wasn’t aware he even knew the concept of that word, he thought bitterly as he drained his glass once more.
As he reached for the bottle, the glass fell from his hand, shattering on the edge of the table. He stared at the broken shards a moment before picking up a large ragged one. At least he had spoken truthfully to her.
If you were going to kill yourself, do it quickly.
‘But I didn’t tell her,’ he mused, ‘to do it in a place where no one will find you, restoring the life you wanted to take. If they find you,’ he thought hazily, the effects of the alcohol taking its toil, ‘they will make you face your pain.’ Dropping the shard, he held up both hands, turning them over to stare at the faint ragged white scars that lay upon his inner wrists.
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