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The Lion and the Snake	By : MichaelaElse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 6170 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER! This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. I make no money

Chapter List
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Prologue: The Lion and the Snake

She was ruined, beaten, broken and used. She felt filthy huddled in a tight ball to shield her already used and broken body from further abuse that she knew would come – it was inevitable. He always came, his presence a light within her dark claustrophobic world that closed in on her with vengeance when he left her used. His essence mingled with her own at the apex of her thighs, scolding hot that made her roll and shiver in a mixture of pleasure and disgust. She shouldn’t enjoy this – how fucked up had she become in her solitude and imprisonment. Why did he keep her alive?

He sneered at her, called her his whore, how she loved to be beaten, broken and dominated – it was always the same. The door swung shut, the blinding light left along with him. Only then did she let the tears fall, she felt disgusted on having given in again after fighting with the Snake tooth and nail until the Lion roared one final time in defeat- pacing away in its cage until the next fight. Sobs wracked her body as she nuzzled into the pillow, how it smelled of him and that made her sob even harder under the realisation – that his scent pleased her. The awry sheets clung to her body, wrapped around her limbs as she flailed, punching at the mattress in anger at her own stupidity. Rage. Rage, it consumed her as her tears of sadness and recognition became angry tears, the saline clung to her locks as they ran from her face, her hazel eyes ablaze in the darkness as she glared at the corners of the room shrouded in darkness.

Her muscles cramped in protest as she began to move off the bed – he had thoroughly fucked her, her core ached and burned from the abuse while her limbs felt like lead as she staggered over to the adjoining bathroom to run a scalding hot bath. Her nudity the least of her worries as she glanced in the full length mirror in front of her in the tiled room. Her hair was knotted, her body flushed in an alluring after-pleasure way. She stopped the running water and descended into the hot water with a pleasurable hiss, her muscles spasm as the heat seeped in to offer comfort.

For hours, it seemed, she laid there, the water never getting cooler with time, she laid there with her eyes closed before descending below water, her hair swaying along the calm water before she ascended and broke the surface for much needed air to her lungs that burned in protest. Only then when all emotions slipped from her face and consciousness did she reach for a wash cloth and cleansed her body, working from her face, neck, collar bone and down her body until ascending her legs from the ankles until she reached the apex of her thighs to cleanse the fluids of their joining. The cloth wiped at her sex, her legs twitched as her wandering hand grazed her over-sensitive nerve bundle. Her breath hitched as she remembered their activities. How he flung her to the bed and grappled her, pinned her but still she fought like a raging lion worthy of the Gryffindor name. She hissed and spat yet he only chuckled before she planted a swift elbow to the ribs and scrambled away only to have a heavy weight pin her into the mattress, all through that she began to get wet, their unique foreplay until her lust ruled her and she gave in like a lioness in heat – bending to the will of the snake. His body aligned with hers, he was everywhere – his hands ever wandering with gentle strokes, firm gropes and harsh slaps that made her mewl. In those moments she was his – surrendering to the pleasure he gave.

She was brought from her fantasy with a strangled cry, her hips jerked swiftly before she let out a shuddering sigh as she tossed the wash cloth onto the floor, she had done it again. She brought comfort to herself in the way she could even though she could only fantasise about him – as he was her only. The aching tight sensation flared back to life with her ministrations, the cycle began again as rage and lust clouded her mind.

She barely registered the door opening and clicking shut but his sneering voice was something that couldn’t be ignored. She lifted her gaze to the tall man cloaked in black, his dark eyes peering down at her looking at her nude body from beneath the clear water.
She growled and gracefully stood, the water cascading down her smooth body as she glared down at him from her vantage point, ready to strike.
She vowed, she would escape this place.
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The Lion and the Snake