Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Torment Completed	By : Kvarta Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 31717 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 8
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: I managed to fix two chapters today, they sort of going together, this one is her POV, next one is his, so tomorrow you may expect another one :)
@BlackRose "Don't abandon this story. I want to read it till the end!" - thank you and don't worry, I won't. Even if I try, my OCD will prevent me from abandoning it ;)
To avoid further confusion:
Italic - Past, memories
‘Single quotation mark’ - inner monologue, thoughts
“double quotation mark” - actual speech
She had the feeling that both of them started to breathe a bit easier when Poppy finally left. The woman was a force of nature and she didn’t take no for an answer if it was about her patients. Looking at things Poppy left her, she sighed ’Well, I got myself in this mess.’. He looked like an angry porcupine. Poppy gave them both scolding because the bags under his eyes returned. She prescribed more rigorous regime for him, limiting the magic use around him to a minimum, she could only move him around by magic. Misty got a new diet for him, even the grumpy elf was subdued in Poppy’s presence, twisting the hem of the pristine pillowcase and keeping her eyes down. She never saw Misty acting like that, not even with Snape and Malfoy.
„Well, better get going with this, Malfoy...ermmm...Malfoy senior will come to visit you later today.“
„That is Lord Malfoy or Mr Malfoy for you, Granger.“ He replied sharply
„What is that you told me? ’Respect is earned.’“ She retorts, climbing on the bed and kneeling next to him. „Now be still and let me put this on you.“
„Do I have an option?“ he asked bitterly
„Stop talking.“ She frowned. She can’t place the gaze over the wound if he keeps talking and she doesn't want to be in his bed, well, not in this way anyhow. She takes a swat of the ointment and when she touches his skin he flinched
„That is opposite of ’standing still’“ she grumbled
„I do not appreciate being...touched“ he spoke like each word pained him profoundly
„Well, I’m not so keen on touching you, but there is no way around it unless you want me to call Matron again, then we can be yelled at again.“
„Fine, just get it done already.“ He growled
She touches his skin again and spreads the ointment over the wound. Scarred, lumpy flesh doesn't feel like skin at all. But the surrounding skin is soft and warm, too warm. Worried she places one of her hands to his forehead and he flinches again with an angry look on his face.
„You feel a bit too warm, I’m checking if you are running a fever.“
„I do not!“
„And I should take your word on it?“ she replied with narrowed eyes, but inside her head, she is screaming ’Are you insane, stop provoking him!’ but she can’t. She is so angry these days, oscillating from moments of pure despair to moments of pure undiluted rage. The hardest was when she felt both of those in the same time, like today. And this was not connected to her current state, it was more...just more.
„As a matter of fact, you should.“ He replies with one brow curled in indignation „This is my normal temperature.“
„Alright. Now, still, until I place this on you.“ She dangled a gaze in front of his eyes
„Did you do that before?“
„I’ve read the books.“ She replies, and he rolled his eyes with a pinched face, but he is quiet so she proceeded. Placing the material on the wound and using a Muggle medical tape to seal the gaze on the place. She notices that his hair is greasy, but he refused to allow her to bathe him and forced her to use magic on him, but until recently they at least used pool daily. For past three days, it was only magic. Finally, she manages to fix the gaze correctly and she pulls back. „I will prepare the floor and transfer you to the sanitized surface.“ She informs him and crawls out of the bed.
Taking one of the blankets she places it on the floor and enlarges it so he would fit on it head to toe. She transfigures it into a spongy material she knew it is good for floor exercises, they used it at the fitness centre her parents took her once. She yanks his covers and he growls. Ignoring his protests she levitates him to the makeshift practice area.
’Harry was right, he still looks like death.’ His muscle tone was returning but at the snail's pace. The contour of his ribs still plainly visible like distressing 3D image, plunging sharply to his abdomen, still too thin and plastered flat to his spine. He reminds her of the pictures of hunger in Africa or imprisonment camp victims from WWII she saw on the telly once. His arms are in much better shape, filling with muscles nicely, through his wrists still jutting sharply against thin forearms. How didn’t she noticed this before? She was so focused on progress that she blocked out the whole picture completely. She positions herself at his feet.
„We will start with your legs.“ She informs him before taking one foot in her arms. She bends his leg and pushes it toward his chest. His leg is heavy, much heavier than in the pool. He’s awfully heavy for such thin man. After twenty pushes, they are both covered with sweat. She wedges his foot to her abdomen and faces his angry glare. „They pushing against me.“
„Granger...“
„Do you honestly think you could harm me? If you think you are able to - then do it.“ ’Are you insane!!!!’ she waits but the pressure is minimal. Large droplets of sweat soaking his skin and hair, his face is flushed with pale pink from exertion and his chest strain. „Take a break and try again.“ She instructs him.
He glares at her and she lowers her eyes to his foot. She does not need to see his silent judgement, it is almost palatable and it stings. She never before notices that he has long, elegant feet with high arch and delicately defined toes. The skin on his feet is soft like he was spending insane amounts of time doing nothing but pedicure and walking on clouds. She is jealous of that. After few more minutes of miniscule pressure, she nods and lets his leg gently to the ground. They repeat the process with another leg, and this time she is careful, checking the muscles for a sign of cramps.
His hips are still in good shape, he can bend his leg high without complaining or effort. She knows girls who would sell their soul to be this...bendy. She takes the glass of water and lifts him so she could give him to drink. He is still silent but greedily gulps the water.
„Now your arms...“ she frowns, she obviously didn’t think this through, he rolls his eyes
„May I suggest that you combine the exercises for abdomen with arms?“ his tone is dry, sarcastic
„H...how?“ she has no idea how to proceed from here, in the pool, she would push his back up, but she can’t lie beneath him now...she wouldn't be able to push him. And he would be mad if she tries. He rolled his eyes again and frowned
„You...sit... on my thighs and lock your hands with mine, so you can pull me up. It should stimulate more than one group of muscles.“ If there is a vocabulary with words like acerbic, sarcastic, caustic his picture must be standing under the explanation.
„Right.“ ’Not awkward at all.’ She kneels next to his thighs and straddles them careful not to touch him, keeping herself in the upward position she hooks her hands grabbing his forearms. The weak pressure told her that he at least tried to do the same. She pulls him slowly up, and she sees his muscles strain, at least he's doing all he can to assist her.
First one was a success, she lowered him back slowly and he still strains his muscles to sustain him and eased his way back. Two. Three. She is surprised, this is going much better than she anticipated. Her muscles are shaking slightly, he is heavy, and she uses much of her strength to pull him up and lower him down. Four. He’s up and now he’s descending slowly. Suddenly, his strength gave up, and entire his weight is in her hands. She loses her balance and they both fall on the soft surface. She with a surprised yelp, he with a grunt. His heavy exhale gushes against her face.
In that precise moment, the door opens ’Of course, what else.’ She thinks disgruntled. She tries to lift up fast, but their hands are entangled and one of her arms is trapped under his. ’How that happened?’ he skin crawls when she hears the familiar drawl
„Oh, I apologize, should I return later?“ Lucius sounds amused. She finally managed to free herself and rolled to sit next to Snape, glaring at Malfoy who looks like a cat which just swallowed the canary, before he turns to exit but shifts so he could face them again „May I suggest...“
„You may not.“ Growlers Snape but Lucius ignores him, fixing her with starre
„...it would be much easier if you have no clothes on...and...use the bed. Unless this is some new kink, in which case I’d like to watch.“
She feels her face going hot, she is at the brink of tears, this is so humiliating. And the nerve of the man, such...insinuations. but, when she opens her mouth what comes out of them surprises even her, is her brain even connected to them today?
„If you think this is amusing, feel free to join.“
„Well, how...advanced and liberal are we! No, thank you, I do prefer to watch.“ She is angry again ’Gods, is sarcasm something they teach in Slytherin dorm?’ she opens her mouth then close them fast, maybe it is smarter not to say anything at all. At least today.
„Lucius.“ Growlers Snape „Do return later.“
„Fine, fine.“ Reply Lucius in the silky tone and she glares at him. If she could send just one hex, just one at his direction. But she can’t, she is his guest and she can’t attack her host. Her face is hot as a furnace. Malfoy leaves the room, but she still glares at the door.
„Granger!“ his voice snaps her out of her stupor „Shall we continue?“
„Yes, yes.“ She resumes her position, as before but her muscles are tired
„May I suggest that you try and, I don’t know, follow my instructions this time? I was convinced that this...torture has as an end goal to help me and not render me inoperative completely.“
„Fine.“ She growls at him and sits on his tighs, linking her hands with his. She uses her body as a lever to pull him up and lowers him down. He is right, it is much easier this way. Nonetheless, she feels his legs under her but, flexing meekly as they move, brushing against her more intimate parts. He is trying to stiffen his muscles and take at least some of his body weight, but at this point, it is a strain for him. He is sweating profoundly, breathing heavily and loudly with occasional hiss or grunt.
There is nothing menacing about his behaviour but she is...sooooooooooo....not comfortable with the situation. It feels wrong. Too intimate, even if it shouldn’t. He is focused on exercises, she doubt’s he sees her at all. For him, she is just one of the contraptions to utilise while practising. But she feels him more keenly, and blames him for it, for giving this proposition, even if she isn’t sure how differently to pull this off.
Fifteen. ’Finally!’
„I’m glad you share your enthusiasm, but could you just return me to bed now?“ he drawls and she looks at him. He is soaked with sweat. ’Oh great! He’s going to kill me now for sure.’ Whines her brain ’I can’t do it! I can’t! I must...’
„Well, actually, professor...“ she starts to stutter.
- 36
- 37
- 38
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Torment *Completed*

Torment Completed