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Set me free Complete	By : Kvarta Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 13653 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it.

Chapter List
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A/N: In agreement with my beta – I’m posting this chapter unedited when she finishes with fixing the grammar and with me, I will re-post this chapter at a later date.
At that time, I do expect that some parts will be enhanced and there will be no grammatical errors.
I leave it to you to read it now or wait some more.
When I upload edited chapter I’ll remove this note :)
Disjointed
What the hell am I doing?
The thought swims in his mind. Lost in a sea of sensations, both sensory ones and internal. He doesn‘t touch, he fucks on occasion, but not ever those he helps. And there were a fair few in the past years.
How did I get myself into this situation?
A thousand galleons question. One for which answer eludes him.
She shivers in his embrace, soft sobs shaking her slender form.
Blood roars in his ears, he fights its call. It pumps through his veins with the force he forgot he possesses. Making him feel alive.
I survived.
It is one of the answers. How? No one knows. But he did survive. He is alive. For seven long years, he is but a shell. A little more than an Inferi.
She nuzzles his neck. The sensitive marred skin. Just one in a sea of scars - visible and invisible ones. The rough patch of flesh, dead at its rims but overly sensitive in the centre, where new skin formed.
The bloody snake failed.
They came to collect his body after the battle. He was in shock from loss of blood. He was paralyzed from the venom. But he was alive. Poppy declared him alive, poured potions into his mouth. Patched him up with a needle and a thread - like a torn out robe.
Blood sings in his veins. He ignores its call.
How did I get myself in this situation?
He was pardoned. He received the Order of Merlin. He had enough funds to buy this place. A small used books store with a tiny flat above it. When loneliness and isolation started to erode him he ventured into the establishment well known among Death Eaters.
How did I get myself in this situation? Ah, Miss Lovegood.
He found Miss Lovegood. She was lost and placing herself in danger. He protected her, helped her. Healed her the only way he knew how.
She brought so many after that. And he did help as much as he could. But never… Not a single one of them… He didn’t touch. With hands or implements. He avoided contact.
Her tears soak his coarse wool robes. They fall on his skin. Each of them burns like acid. Each of them eats through his resolve. She feels like precious china in his arms.
“That’s it. Just let it go. I’ve got you.” he murmurs into her ear.
So, why now? I caved.
When Miss Lovegood brought her he said “No”. His first reaction - refusal. As if he knew even then. An instinct. Too much history. Too much…
Miss Lovegood is no threat to his solitary existence, a bird of a feather. The others - just lost souls he guided back on the path. But she-she is different. She is the same. Broken in the same way. He felt it, feels it. A mirror image with just one difference.
They complement each other.
I caved. Lost.
Her embrace tightens. It forces the air out of his lungs, not by strength but with its actuality. He calms his breath. Pulling her closer. Slightly drifting apart. It wouldn’t be wise to let her notice...
Her breath scorches his skin.
He suppresses slight tremor of his body.
Taking a deep breath - almonds and chamomile. Arousal. He can smell her.
It doesn’t mean anything.
He knows. One may feel that way. But to feel and act on it are not the same.
He fights against the tensing of his muscles. He slides a bit closer. Widens his stance. Hides it from her. His own organ feels heavy and solid against his leg.
Biting the inner tissue of his cheek, he takes a deep breath.
Mistake!
He is still slightly lightheaded from the rush. Each strike driving him near that ledge, the one he cannot allow himself to cross.
His blood sings, it calls.
She smells like a summer meadow.
She smells like innocence.
She smells like sex.
You are too old, too ugly for her. You are… You were her teacher.
It is all in vain. Her hair tickles his cheek. Each lash he delivered burned in his memory. Each arch of her back, a soft moan… They all run through him like poison. Calling to him. Eating away through his resolve.
Desire.
He forgot how it feels. He didn’t feel it for decades. But it is here now. It throbs in his groins. It pulsates in his prick. It forces his heart to drum in a beat unfamiliar to him. The Siren’s song. He wishes for nothing more than to get lost in her. To feel her around him. To live in her moans. To die in the ripple of her flesh.
She is raw - vulnerable. She is confused. Her emotions run high. She does not want you. She will change her mind.
It doesn’t help.
Each thought stabs him. A white heat javelin through his heart and soul, what left of them. Until she came, he thought he lost them forever.
His mind and his body - disjointed.
He pulls her closer. Buries his face in her hair. Inhales.
Something changed.
She still shivers in his embrace. Only the soft sighs of her ebbing sobs can be heard. But something changed. The air around her is different.
She leans.
Press her soft breasts against his chest. If he does not move she will feel it. The manic rhythm of his heart. If he maintains the distance - he can also maintain his control.
She needs you to be strong for her now.
Jaw clangs forcefully, muscles cramp up. He grits his teeth.
She shifts. Press her face into his skin. Her lips touch the vein on his neck.
It burns. Her touch.
It sips a liquid fire in his bloodstream. His skin aches. His entire body aches from the need. He unclasps his hands and pries her off. Forcing her to sit on her heels.
“What are you think you are doing, Miss Granger?” Is that my voice?
“I, I just thought…” she stutters, voice barely a whisper
“That is not the part of the arrangement we have.” he is not harsh, but his voice is determined.
He has to be stronger than she is. He has to be strong for both of them. Her chin falls on her chest. It hurts to see her like this.
He reaches out, and coupes her face. His thumbs wipe soft tear-stained cheeks. She leans into his touch.
Why does she have to make it so difficult?
“I am not angry at you, Miss Granger.” he keeps his voice soft “I’ll admit this is not my usual approach, I did make certain - concessions - with you. And certain - reactions, are expected. But, that is not how you really feel.”
He’s struggling, fighting the inner beast. The one that nudges him to crush her lips with his. To sank his teeth into her soft breasts. To mark her. To take her. Here, on this hard wooden floor. She deserves better.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to… I thought that maybe you want...” she starts and he can’t take it. Her words hold a power. Power to break him, his control. He is the one hanging by the thread now.
He presses his thumb over her lips.
Mistake! Soft, so soft…
His brain takes a turn, sending an image of those soft lips wrapped around…. He shakes his head.
“This is not about what I want or don’t want. This is about you. You may feel this way now, but it will pass.”
“And what if it doesn’t pass?” her voice is teary, panicked once more. He sighs.
“Miss Granger, I do not want for you to replace one addiction with another.”
She tries to speak and his thumb presses a bit harder on her lips. It sinks a bit into a heated cave of her mouth.
You can’t! Not now. Later, maybe… I cave again then.
“We may re-negotiate, later. After… After I decide that you no longer need healing. That your mind is sound and your decisions are your own. But not before.” He can’t prevent the sigh in his voice “If you still feel this way, after we are finished with this, you may...accost me...again.”
Huge teary eyes shine at him.
Soft brown eyes.
Intelligent eyes.
The eyes of a woman.
“And you will accept it then?”
“I won’t oppose, but we will renegotiate our arrangement.”
She stares at him for a long, long time. Silent. Tearing through his last defences with frightening ease. The thirst for her blazes. Leaving him parched. Finally, she nods.
“Go on then, get dressed. Do you want me to…” he offers.
She shakes her head and lowers her gaze.
“No. Thank you, Sir.”
With that, she stands up. Tall and slender, with curves in all the right places and all in the right size. She is athletic. Her muscles rip and jump as she walks.
His hands ball into tight fists, the last line of defence. Physical restraint.
“I’ll see you on Thursday, Miss Granger.”
Another nod, last one before she disappears behind the door. He listens. Still kneeling, he can’t afford to move or everything will be lost. He listens, and when the outside door click - only then he unclasps his fists.
He slumps. Muscles trembling. Breathing ragged.
One arm squeeze on his painful erection. Adding the pressure to release the pressure.
His chest fill with hope.
A/N: As you may already notice, the time between chapters is long. I apologize for that :(
And I have to announce that this story will be on halt until the end of May.
My work schedule was intense but now and until the end of May will be beyond insane. Even with my best desire, I won’t have time to devote to writing.
End of May, or the first week of June at the latest you may expect me to start posting again.
Again, I sincerely apologise. :(
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Set me free *Complete*

Set me free Complete