Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 2
- 3
- 4
@Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. This story is purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from it.
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 :)
@Clem - Thank you, I hope you will like this one as well :)
Veracity
The letters dance in front of his eyes. Letters that form words without any meaning behind them. He abandons the pretence of reading a book. It's weight like an anvil pressing on his thighs.
Shuddery breath escapes him, involuntarily.
Six months. . .
Six months passed since that day, the day he left kneeling on the wooden floor. My undoing, my curse.
Six months of memories to the feel of her skin.
Six months of memories of her scent.
Six months of iron clad control.
He controlled them both. Desire eating through him like an acid. But. . . She never found out. And now she is healed. The day after tomorrow. . .
Their last session. . .
I knew it was too good to be true. She is healed. . . I lost yet again.
He steels himself for what is coming, for what he knows will happen. Pain in his chest is real but he reins it.
A growl, deep and throaty, escapes him.
Loud knocking cuts his thoughts. He ignores it. Whoever it is, he or she is persistent. Annoyed he lurches from the chair, not giving a thought to a book now crumpled, lying askew on the floor.
He will eviscerate this annoyance at the door.
Wood creaks when he yanks the handle.
Words, vile and vitriolic die on his lips, choke him, getting stuck in his throat. His heart pummels at his ribcage with the strength of a jack-hammer.
Huge, tear-stained brown eyes take his strength away.
“I failed! I failed you! I… I… need a...correction.” sobbing voice, her eyes glide from his to the floor “Please, Sir.”
“Miss Granger.” Good, his voice is calm.
His body sways towards her, he jerks back. Hands ball in fists. Miniscule movements. Unnoticeable to her.
“Please, Sir.”
Each syllable, a knife through his heart. Strong fist squeezing on his oesophagus. He squares his shoulders.
She needs you in control. She needs you strong.
His mantra, repeated so many times in past months. It is almost an imperative now.
Finally, he nods. “Go to the room. Sit to the table. Stay as you are.”
“Thank you, sir.” A soft sigh falls from her lips as she brushes past him. The contact, no matter how small - burns.
Accidental - pain multiplies.
He closes the door and walks to the cabinet.
It’s what she needs. This is all about her.
~ S ~ S ~ S ~
A wave of relief washes over her. A brief respite before the deep feeling of dread engulfs her once more.
Fear!
Different type of fear - fear nevertheless.
The crack on the wooden table is all-consuming, she glares at it like there is a solution in it. Her eyes dart around the room. This room - her entire world.
The bare wooden floor.
Two rickety chairs.
One beat up wooden table.
Bare wooden walls.
Door open, scraping on the floor. Elegant hands, covered with black silk appear in her line of sight. Her heart drops, with a painful thud. She hates that silk with the passion. Never since that day she saw his skin, not more than his face. He didn’t approach her, hugged her or used any of the other implements on her.
He didn’t touch her in any way.
She does not understand.
She doesn’t have to as long as she received from him what she needs. Or at least that is what she tells herself.
“Miss Granger, eyes up, this is not a session.”   his voice even and calm, her eyes obey his order, mindless “Now, what is the problem?”
“I failed.” her heart starts to rush “I… I lapsed. I gave them tasks and then I .. I …. “
It hurts. She failed. Annulled everything they worked for. She failed - him.
“We talked about this, Miss Granger. You know that these moments may happen. Did you…”
“Yes!” she cries out, cutting through his clam with her panic.
Please, don’t send me away.
“Then, I do not see that situation merits the correction.”
“I, I need it. Please…”
“Miss Granger, I told you once already and I do hope that at least you have enough brain to remember it. As I recall, memorising and reciting is one of your stronger points. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Yes, Sir.” she whispers. Panic rises inside her, choking her. “I can promise you, this is not a replacement of one addiction with another.”
Silence. She can feel his eyes scorching across her skin.
The only sound is a whoosh of her blood, too loud in her ears. Shivers running through her muscles, the shivers she suppresses. Finally, he rumbles.
“Very well.”
Elation.
Her eyes flicker to his face and back on the table again.
“Stay here. Do not move until I return. Eyes on the table. Your correction starts now.”
Scraping, wood on wood.
The klick of the door. Once. Twice.
Her hands shake. Heart beating, ticking in her throat like a clock.
Hands in black silk. Parchment. Inkwell. Quill.
What is going on?
One silk-clad finger taps on the blank sheet of a parchment.
“50 lines. Neat, easy to read. Any transgression will bring 2 additional lines. I want you to write following: I am good. I did nothing wrong. I can make mistakes and still be fine. I don’t deserve to be punished or corrected.”
Everything inside her rebels. No, this is wrong, I need to be corrected properly.
“Sir?”
“Miss Granger, who is in charge of your corrections?”
“You are, Sir”
“Do you have a problem with your task?”
“I…” she forces herself to keep her eyes down, on the table “No, Sir.”
“Then I suggest you get started. You have precisely one hour.”
“Yes, Sir”
Her eyes are on the parchment. Prickles of tears scratch her corneas. This is not what she expected… what she wanted…
With a sigh she takes the quill, tip scrapes across the parchment. Sound grates on her nerves. She can’t understand - why lines? Why these words?
“1) I am good. I did nothing wrong. I can make mistakes and still be fine. I don’t deserve to be punished or corrected.”
I failed. I do deserve to be corrected. I do deserve to feel that pain again.
It is her curse, that memory. The bite of a leader against bare skin. The warmth. The liberating feeling of …
“12) I am good. I did nothing wrong. I can make mistakes and still be fine. I don’t deserve to be punished or corrected.”
I did everything we talked about. I followed his instructions to the letter. Why am I here?
Her hands shake.
Ragged breaths rattle in her chest.
The memory…
His solid form against her. His embrace. The softness of his skin under her lips. The slightly sour taste of his sweat. The tang of his scent.
“18) I am good. I did nothing wrong. I can make mistakes and still be fine. I don’t deserve to be punished or corrected.”
What if he refuses me after…
The lines on the parchment went askew. A blob of ink splashed from the tip and covered shaky uneven letters.
From where that came from?
She is shocked.
Confused.
No, it can’t be. . .
“25) I am good. I did nothing wrong. I can make mistakes and still be fine. I don’t deserve to be punished or corrected.”
I couldn’t do that on purpose. Could I? No, I am stronger than that.
Breathe.
She is stronger than that.
Yes. She is afraid. Her fear. Now she knows. She isn’t afraid of delegating. She isn’t afraid of letting go.
“35) I am good. I did nothing wrong. I can make mistakes and still be fine. I don’t deserve to be punished or corrected. I am stronger than that.”
Merlin, I did it on purpose. I wanted to fail! I wanted to keep on seeing him. I… I have to ask him. But what if he says ‘no’?
Understanding.
Breathe.
Blood hums in her ears.
Peace, an odd sensation, unfamiliar, sips into her body.
“40) I am good. I did nothing wrong. I can make mistakes and still be fine. I don’t deserve to be punished or corrected. I am stronger than that.”
I don’t want to lose . . . him.
The fear is gone.
The tightness in her chest is there, but it is different. Focused.
Determination.
“50) I am good. I did nothing wrong. I can make mistakes and still be fine. I don’t deserve to be punished or corrected. I am stronger than that.”
Merlin. . . I’ll ask him. Please, please don’t let him refuse me.
“52) I am good. I did nothing wrong. I can make mistakes and still be fine. I don’t deserve to be punished or corrected. I am stronger than that.”
Even if he says ‘no’ I’ll find the way to persuade him to change his mind.
She places the quill in the inkwell and waits.
She doesn’t see the letters.
Determination.
She wants him to take care of her. Like he did that day.
Realisation.
Everything she did in the past six months lead her to this moment. To the moment of clarity. Of what she wants. Of what she needs. The moment of pure veracity.
She can breathe.
Door open.
The sound of rubber soles on the wood.
His heat behind her as he leans over her.
His scent - old books, pine needles, sage and mint.
“I will accept this”
Vibrations of his deep rumble resonate against her back.
“Your correction is finished, Miss Granger. We will have our conversation now.”
~ S ~ S ~ S ~
He steadies the hand that holds the parchment. She is warm and shivers like a small bird. He feels it.
Written lines change. Newly added words - a rusty dagger to his heart - but he is satisfied.
She is whole again. And even if she doesn’t want him, he is happy that she is healed.
One deep, cautious, inhale.
Last time he can feel it.
Walking around the table he sits across her.
Huge brown eyes latch on his with determination. Newfound strength, one he didn’t see before.
It is all about her.  He reminds himself.
“Let me hear, Miss Granger. You know how this goes.”
“You were right. I... I am ashamed to admit, but… I sabotaged our work I didn’t do it on purpose - I know that now. I know now why I did it.”
“Do you want to share it? Talk about it?”
“No. There is no need for that.”
His chest constrict.
She is pulling back. And he is there. It is not a matter of touch or control.
It is her.
Her sole presence is enough to get him there. To that edge.
“However, I’d like to exercise my right. The one you gave me.”
“And that is?”
Poison sips, it dribbles on the open wound of hope in his chest. He gave her so many ‘veto’ slips over the space of past six months. Verbal as they may be, but her brain is a tool.
“You gave me permission to accost you once more after my healing is brought to the end.”
“That is correct.” his voice is calm.
His heart threatens to rip his chest. Merlin, just destroy me as swiftly and efficiently as I know you can.
“Well, I’m … accosting you ... now.”
Blood rushes in his ears, loud thunder.
He fights to at least looks like he’s breathing normally, but the air is in short supply.
You rehearsed your reply to her rejection. . . What?
“I beg your pardon, Miss Granger?”
“You told me that we will need to re-negotiate and talk, but that you are not averse… Well, did you change your mind?”
“No, my offer stands.” Is that me?
What is going on?
“Is there a need for our last session?”
“No. Not after today.” What am I saying?!
“Do you agree that we see in arranged time and re-negotiate then?”
“That would be acceptable.”
He nods. Detached from his actions. From his words.
She stands up. And nears him.
“Well then, we will see each other a day after tomorrow.”
She leans and lightly brushes her lips against his before she leaves the room.
The door opens and closes.
He takes sharp inhale, air cuts his throat and lungs. Air full of razor-blades.
His hands shake.
The heavy heat against his leg.
She may crave for his control . . . but she is the one that holds all the power. She may not know it - but she does.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Set me free *Complete*

Set me free Complete