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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.
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Disclaimer: See chapter 1

Snape finally returned to the headmaster's study in time for lunch after having stalked the corridors for a while, burning off some excess energy, and sending several more students to various teachers for detentions. He didn't stop there, unwilling to give the painting of Dumbledore another chance to harass him after their discussion that morning about the girl.

He had told Dumbledore the girl was in no condition to be put through several more bouts of the Cruciatus that day, as she was exhausted and in a bad way. The portrait had been concerned about the waste of time and the fact that the Dark Lord may have found it strange that he had been worried about her well-being, but Snape had insisted, saying that he could find some reason to have put it off.

Snape went straight through to his library, throwing himself down in his armchair with a sigh of relief. So immersed was he in his thoughts that he didn't notice the girl enter quietly until he heard her put the tray on the desk. He was lucky she was a passable cook. She tended to make simpler food than the house elves, but that suited him just fine.

Snape looked up as she turned to face him, her eyes on the floor, waiting anxiously to be dismissed. She looked no better than she had that morning. When he had gone to her room she had been pale and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes and a guarded expression on her face. He had needed to see her eyes, wanting to make sure she was ok. He felt furious with himself for letting the previous night getting so out of hand. The biggest mistake had been putting her in his bed. He should have known better, and now his stupidity was endangering everything he had worked for for so long.

Some of his anger must have been visible, for she had blanched when he had told her to look up at him. He had beaten a hasty retreat before he had jeopardised everything further.

Snape studied her intently now, watching the way she held her arms stiffly at her sides, her hands trembling imperceptibly. She actually looked worse than she had done. Her eyes were red and puffy. She must have been crying recently. He fought to stop his concern showing on his face. He would need to stay away from her for the rest of the day, give her some space and time to recover.

He probably needed the time too. Whatever he had expected when he had woken to find her struggling in his arms, he had not imagined that she would reach up to kiss him. For one moment he'd thought…No..!

Dragging himself desperately out of thoughts which he knew were pointless, he realised that the girl had been standing there for a few minutes, still waiting to be told to leave. She was sneaking occasional worried glances up at him, and what she saw on his face obviously was frightening her again, for she was trembling and clutching at her dress. He realised he was grimacing, although not angry with her, but at himself. He quickly schooled his features into their normal blank mask.

"You may leave."

Hermione hadn't seen Snape all day, except at mealtimes and first thing in the morning. He had completely ignored her when she had brought in his supper, and she had been as disconcerted by it as she had been by the angry looks she had received that morning and at lunch.

Why was he so angry? Was it because she had run away from him last night. She couldn't think of anything else she might have done wrong, and if she had, they why hadn't she been punished. And had he really expected her to stay there in his arms of her own free will. He didn't force you to kiss him…

She was now in her room, curled up in her bed, trying to make sense of the mess her life had become. She had taken him his supper and then quickly eaten hers in the kitchen before getting ready for bed early, having finished all her tasks. She needed a good rest after last night's tossing and turning. And dreams of him.

The dreams where they had made love were almost tangible. She snuggled down under her blanket as she thought about them. They had probably been brought on by Snape searching and finding those particular memories. It was like he had known they were there and had purposely gone after them. How did he know? …Voldemort! He saw me masturbating in the bath.

He had found the whole thing extremely amusing and had let the memory play out in his entirety. He must have mentioned it to Snape. Bet they had a good laugh. Her cheeks blushed with the humiliation again, although there was no one there to see.

But she was sure Voldemort hadn't seen the conversation she had had with the other girls, and Snape had found that one first and used it to get to the other. So how did he know? It was infinitely worse that Snape himself had viewed her in the bath. Things like that were supposed to be private, especially when you came screaming at the thought of you nasty bat-like professor fingering you. Not that I came last night.

She's been close to coming though. The memory had seemed so real, especially as the Professor in question had actually started doing what she had imagined that night. It had felt so good, right up until the point where she had realised what was happening.

Unbidden, Hermione's fingers started tracing circles over her stomach as she drifted through her memories. One finger came up to rub a hard nipple that was aching for attention. Her thoughts moved back to the dreams she'd had. She'd actually seduced him in most of them, and the outcome had been wholly pleasant, nothing like the real thing, where she'd been left needy and aching.

One hand drifted lower, stroking gently though her curls, and a shudder ran though her. She hadn't pleasured herself for ages, and after having been brought so close to orgasm so many times she realised her body was throbbing with the need to come. It wouldn't take much to send her over the edge.

Her fingers moved lower. All sensation abruptly vanished. What in Merlin's name? She pulled her hand up and suddenly she could feel it again. She touched herself again experimentally. Nothing. It was the strangest feeling, the way her hand went numb when she touched herself between the legs. She wasn't numb down there thought, but strangely she couldn't feel her hands on her skin either. What is going on?

All of a sudden she remembered something Snape had said that night in front of the fire; "…that pleasure belongs only to me…" and the charm he had cast on her hands. What kind of a spell is this? She rubbed herself a few more times for good measure. Still nothing. Not that she'd expected otherwise. Damn him! With or without his she had no chance for please, whereas he could take what he wanted from her any time he pleased.

She let out a frustrated growl. Still full of pent up need she ran her hands over her breasts, tugging gently on her nipples. It was only making it worse. As nice as it felt she was never going to come that way, and with a sigh she gave it up. Shifting slightly down the bed to get comfortable she tried to ignore the low thrumming through her body. It was a long time before she was relaxed enough to sleep.

And when she did, she only fell into dreams of him again.

Snape was sitting quietly in his armchair in front of a roaring fire when he felt the tingle of magic. He'd forgotten having cast that particular charm on the girl until that moment. He grumbled under his breath. It was bad enough trying to supress the memory of her lying beneath him, moaning with pleasure the previous night, but knowing she was touching herself right this moment – or trying to, at any rate – was even more frustrating.

The tingles went on for a minute or so; she was probably trying to figure out what was going on, before they stopped and Snape let out a sigh of relief. He was surprised it had taken her so long to discover what he had done. He would have expected to try bring herself off sooner, considering how many times he had left her high and dry. Or wet, he thought with a smirk that he quickly supressed. Don't go there.

He knew he wanted to though. The urge to take her and fuck her until she couldn't see straight was so strong. He wanted to make her see he wasn't the monster she though he was. Like she'd ever let you touch her if she didn't have to.

Tomorrow was just going to be another reason for her to hate him, he thought morosely. It would be a painful experience, for both of them. He was sure she was going to fly off the handle at him at some point. Not that I don't deserve it.

Snape put down the book that he had been unsuccessfully trying to concentrate on for the past hour or so, deciding to try and get some decent sleep before the next day. He went straight to his bedroom, planning on taking a long cold shower before bed.
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Memories of Deception