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Memories of Deception	By : professorflo Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 20868 -:- 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
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
- 55-55
- 56-56
- 57-57
- 58-58
- 59-59
- 60-60
- 61-61
- 62-62
- 63-63
- 64-64
- 65-65
- 66-66
- 67-67
- 68-68
- 69-69
- 70-70
- 71-71
- 72-72
- 73-73
- 74-74
- 75-75
- 76-76
- 77-77
- 78-78
- 79-79
- 80-80
- 81-81
- 82-82
- 83-83
- 84-84
- 85-85
- 86-86
- 87-87
- 88-88
- 89-89
- 90-90
- 91-91
- 92-92
- 93-93
- 94-94
- 95-95
- 96-96
- 97-97
- 98-98
- 99-99
- 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
- 18
- 19
- 20
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Hermione was aware of his scrutiny, and was careful not to look at him. She wondered idly whether he was able to read her surface thoughts without having to probe. I hope not. Hermione wished she knew what he was thinking. I wish I knew what I was thinking too. She sighed quietly, revealing in the heat that was spreading through her body, and stretched, her bare legs appealing from under the voluminous robe.

They sat in silence for a while, the tension slowly becoming more and more unbearable. To take her mind off his uncomfortable presence beside her, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and undid the braid carefully, pulling out the tangles with her fingers as she worked her way up. Her braid finally undone, she tried to run her fingers through her roots, but the hair there was now beginning to get quite matted.

"That rat's nest you call your hair is becoming quite offensive to look at," Snape drawled. She tried to ignore his mean comment, still fruitlessly pulling at the knots. "Here, sort it out, and make sure you keep it looking more presentable in future, or I will have to cut it all off."

She glared at him out of this corner of her eye, irritated because it was not her fault her hair had become so messy. She saw him thrust something towards her, and put her hand out to take it. Her fingers closed around something smooth and cold. It was a small hairbrush. She looked up in his eyes, surprised. Is this his way of saying thank you?

His hair hung around his face, and his heavy brows left his eyes shadowed, except for the flicker of flame that was reflected in them. She could not make out his expression at all. Hermione took the brush silently, turning it over in her hands as she settled back to the floor. She slowly started pulling it through her hair, shivering not from the cold, but from the warmth of his fingers as they had touched hers.

Snape leaned back in his chair, content to watch her again as she began to brush rhythmically, her lips parted slightly as she fought wither hair, making small hisses when she tugged on a particularly bad knot.

It took a while before the matted mess covering her head was detangled. When it was finally finished Hermione closed her eyes and continued brushing, in long strokes from the crown of her head to the ends, her mouth open in an expression of pleasure. Sitting there, her eyes closed, warmed through and lost in the comforting feel of the brush over her scalp, she could have almost imagined herself elsewhere. A small contented sigh escaped her lips.

Snape shifted in his seat, pulling a vial out of his pocket and drinking it. The rustling noise of his clothes against the chair brought her back to the real world. She pouted, annoyed at having been torn out of her little dream. Regretfully she put the brush down and ran her fingers though her hair, separating it as she prepared to re-braid it again.

His hands flashed out and grabbed hers, pulling them away from her hair. "Don't do that," he whispered. Snape then released he hands, and she let them fall into her lap. His fingers tugged gently on a strand of her hair. She looked at him incredulously, but didn't dare to say anything.

His hands tangled in her hair and he slowly let her curls run through his fingers. An uneasy feeling was building in her stomach and her chest began to tighten. Oh no… please, not this again… not now.

Snape continued to stroke her hair gently, occasionally twirling a strand around a finger as she sat unmoving before him. Under other circumstances she could have found what he was doing quite pleasant. It felt extremely intimate, and there was a small part of her taking pleasure in the way her untangled hair was being played with, but she was too apprehensive to relax and enjoy it.

Then his hand fisted in her hair, and her head was pulled back firmly, elongating her neck, and arching her back slightly. Snape had moved down onto the rug, kneeling beside her. His other hand came up to her neck and he ran his fingers up and down the sensitive skin there. Hermione swallowed with difficulty, the muscles in her neck tight with fear.

"You will keep your hair like this from now on. It makes you look less like a half-starved rat," he said cruelly. "Since I have no choice over your presence here, you will make more of an effort with your appearance. You're starting to become unbearable to look at." He wrinkled his nose distastefully at the thought.

Hermione blinked back tears at his spiteful words, and bit her tongue to stoop herself from reminding him just whose fault it was that she had been unable to brush her hair for almost two weeks.

Snape tugged at her hair. "You look much more presentable like this… more tempting…" He swept the robe from her shoulders and pressed his mouth to the side of her neck. She flinched at the sudden movement and he bit her hard where her neck joined her shoulder. Hermione squealed in pain.

"Stay still, pet, if you don't want to get hurt," Snape growled. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, as she fought every instinct in her body that were crying out for her to flee. She knew it was pointless in any case. Maybe he had read her mind, for he chuckled against her neck and said, "You know better than to run by now, don't you pet. You think I didn't feel you testing my wards or realise what you've been doing. The only way out for you is through me."

So he knew. She'd been surprised at the time that he'd said nothing, or given her any clue that he knew. She'd been carefully checking each room as she cleaned for anything that might help her escape, but his rooms were devoid of all but basic furniture, none of which had opened when she tried to search inside. She was unable to read with the books or papers that he left out, and there were no windows and only the one door to escape through. The door to the balcony room had vanished, and she had been unable to find even a tingle of magic to tell her where it was.

Hermione had even spent a fruitless afternoon in front of the door to the headmaster's study, trying to draw on her magic and reach out to test the wards. For one moment she had felt the faintest tingle as she had touched the door, but she was half convinced she had imagined it. She knew all too well how hopeless it was to think of escape.

"Why would you want to escape, pet, when you can be safe in here with me?" She shuddered as he nipped and sucked his way down her shoulder, her head still held back awkwardly.

"I can be kind, if you make an effort to please me." Hermione whimpered, knowing full well what he meant. She thought quickly. Maybe if I give him what he wants and pretend to be happy to stay he might relax and make a mistake. Could she do it though? SHe wasn't sure that she was that good an actress. Not that it looked like she had any choice right this moment.

Snape let go of her hair, and her head fell forward, her muscles protesting against being held for so long in such a way. His fingers tugged at the towel she was still wrapped in, ripping it away from her. SHe tried to cover herself, but he grabbed her arms, and twisting her around, pushed her down onto the rug, his body over hers.

Snape reached down between them, unbuttoning his trousers, holding her down with his other arm. He sighed with relief as he freed his erection, and then kicked his trousers off, leaving only his shirt between them.

His head bent down to take her nipple in his mouth. Snape sucked hurt, marking her cry out with the mix of pleasure and pain. "Do you like that, pet? he asked, running the flat of his tongue over the tip, lifting his eyes to her face. She shook her head, unable to answer.

Snape shifted to the other breast, sucking harder this time. SHe cried out again, her back arching up, pressing herself against him. "You don't sound convinced about that, pet," he said smugly. He reached down between the, settling himself fully between her legs. He used his hand to rub the tip of his cock against her opening.

"How about that? Do you like it?"

"No," she lied, as to her shame she felt her body responding to his rough handling, moisture building between her legs as she stroked himself against her. What is wrong with me? She cried inwardly. "No," she whimpered again, more to herself than to him.

"Wrong answer, pet." He bit her again, on her breast this time, and much harder, as he dug his fingers into her hip. She screamed, trying to push him off, but he clutched her tightly as her skin tore under his mouth.

"I said, do you like that…?"

"Yes, yes," she whimpered.

"Then beg, pet. Beg for more, beg for my cock," he said harshly.

"Please, please."

"Please what?"

"I want you in me, please…." As she spoke the words he pushed inside her in one quick motion, and they both cried out simultaneously. He stilled as soon as he had filled her, and began to smooth the hair back from her damp temples.

"There," he said soothingly. "That wasn't so hard to admit now, was it?"

Hermione lay motionless on the floor in front of the fire, hating herself and him as she felt his semen run slowly down her thigh to the floor. Snape had tenderly kissed the marks he had left one her skin, before beginning to thrust into her again, later lifting her legs to push deeper into her. The new position had hit a certain spot inside her as she lay unprotesting under him. She had felt something start to build inside her, and had closed her eyes, lost in the sensation.

It hadn't been long before he had jerked suddenly above her, his legs twitching, a low groan in his throat as he came. He had ignited the need in her, and again had left her unfulfilled and wanting more.

As he pulled himself out of her to roll on his back beside her she made a soft noise at the back of her throat. Snape lifted his head to look at her, turning onto his side and brushing his fingers possessively over her bruised breasts and down her side.

"What's the matter, pet? Didn't you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes," she replied woodenly.

"Little liar," he whispered, almost fondly. "You want more, don't you?" She only looked at him, afraid to say the word, afraid that he might hear that she actually meant it. The throbbing between her legs was painful, and if it wasn't for his presence she knew she would have used to own fingers to finish what he had started.

Hermione gasped as his wandering fingers dipped lowly, brushing over her mound, and perversely she longed for them to go lower still. His hand gently pushed her legs apart, and he ran his fingers up and down her inner thigh, getting progressively closer to where she wanted them, and at the last second pulling away. She moaned with need.

"Do you want this…? Tell me…" he commanded.

She gave up the last of her dignity. "Yes…please," she begged again, meaning it this time. In response he brought his fingers up to her sex. At his soft touch on her aching clitoris she buckled, pushing herself into his hand.

Snape chucked darkly, his mouth nibbling gently at her shoulder. "You like that, pet?"

"Yes," she moaned, "Please…"

He stroked her gently, occasionally dipping his fingers into her wet crease and spreading the moisture over her bud with his thumb. Hermione's fingers clutched at the rug under her, her back arching in rhythm with the finger that pumped into her slowly. The throbbing feeling increased, obliterating all her other sense, building inexorably towards a peak.

She was close to the edge when his fingers left her suddenly, and she wailed at the loss, her hips writing, thighs rubbing against each other, trying to recapture the feeling and panting with need. He stilled her frantic movements with a firm hand on her hips, and she looked up at him, still breathing heavily.

"Why?" she asked pleasingly.

"Because you haven't earned it yet, my pet. You'll have to work harder to please me if you wish to be rewarded." He rolled away from her as she lay there, paralysed with her want. He pulled himself to him feet, and padded over to the bed, grabbing a vial from the drawers next to it and returning to her.

Snape grabbed his wand off the armchair saying, "Get up. Hold out your hands." When she did he muttered a charm, which shot out of his wand and wrapped around her hands, fading into her skin. "Don't think about finishing yourself off," his eyes darkened as he spoke, "That… pleasure belongs only to me."

He then thrust the vial at her. "Drink it girl, and get out. You aren't needed again tonight, so get back to your room." His tone had quickly changed from its earlier teasing cadence and was now harsh and bitter. He looked down at her with a hate and disgust she could not understand, and she wondered what she had done for his mood to chance so dramatically.

Timidly she grasped the potion, and swallowed it quickly. Handing the empty vial back to him she turned and fled, running straight back to her room without even pausing to grab her dress. She threw herself face down on the bed and sobbed, unsure of who she detested more, Snape or herself.

When Hermione woke up the next morning she felt strangely numb inside, the anger and hatred she had felt muted.

She rolled over, finding that she had somehow managed to wriggle under the cover sometime during the night. She was also surprised to see her dress draped over the chair next to the bed and she wondered how it had got there. The hairbrush Snape had given her and which she had abandoned in his room the previous night now lay next to her pillow.
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Memories of Deception