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. |
Disclaimer: Chapter 1
Snape left her standing of the middle of the room while he went into the bathroom. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was unlit, and the only light came from the sconces on the wall. She walked over to the bed and began to play idly with the edge of the blanket as her mind worked overtime. Why do I feel so nervous? It's not like it's my first time. She realised her hands were shaking and she tried shaking them to relieve the tension. I didn't seem to help much.
The door to the bathroom opened and Snape stepped back into the bedroom. He stopped and stiffened as he saw her standing by the bed, and she watched as a strange, almost haunted expression crossed his face.
She looked away, bashful under the weight of his gaze. Snape crossed the room, moving around the bed to tower over her. She still couldn't look at him. He didn't speak, instead holding out a small phial to her. She recognised it as the nightly potion she took, and drinking it quickly without question.
Snape pulled the phial out of her shaking hands and set it down on the table by the bed. Turning back to her he took hold of her wrists and placed them on the buttons at his collar. "Go on, pet," he urged gently. At least it was another excuse to keep her from looking up at him. She could feel his eyes on her the whole time as she worked her way down. His steady regard was playing havoc with her already shredded nerves and she wished he would look away.
A feeling of tightness was growing behind her ribs as she slowly exposed the starched white shirt under his long coat. Maybe it was a bit like her first time. It was certainly the first she would be an active and willing participant. Maybe that was why she was feeling this way. She could feel her eyes begin to prickle. Oh Gods, I can't cry. What will he think? She blinked a few times and the feeling receded a little.
Finally she undid the last button and hesitated, unsure if he expected her to take it off for him. Snape then raised his arms, turning his wrists over so she could see where the fabric was fastened along the inside. The coat wouldn't be able to come off before it was undone.
She began pulling at the smaller buttons, but her fingers were clumsy and she found it difficult. Her eyes started to water again. Snape finally seemed to notice her shaking hands and he deftly caught them, holding them still between his larger ones.
"Look at me pet."
Hermione didn't want to let him see the tears that were waiting to fall, but she couldn't stop herself from lifting her head to face him. She could feel her bottom lip quivering as his eyes took in her pale, worried face.
"What's this about, pet?" He lifted his hand and brushed at her cheek and she realised with horror than she could feel wet tracks running down her cheeks. Please don't be angry…please. She wasn't even sure quite why she was crying. It was unlikely to please him though.
Hermione didn't even notice him slip into her mind at first, but she slowly became aware as he slipped through her memories of the evening, lingering particularly over the last few minutes. His presence was warm and comforting and she felt her tears begin to dry as she reached out with her consciousness towards him.
Suddenly he was gone, and she took a few seconds to come back to herself. She found herself pressed up against Snape, head tilted back with him hovering over her face, lips close to hers. Her eyes found his and she stared up at him, unblinking. Snape cupped her face with one hand as he pulled her closer with the other around her waist. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek into his palm, finding a small measure of comfort in the gesture.
"It's ok to be nervous, pet. I know you want to please me."
Was that what it was? He must have seen something in her head that had convinced him of that, but she still felt confused about the whole thing. It was too late for further worrying now though, for Snape then bent down and brushed his lips over hers before pulling away.
"Get in the bed, pet. I'll finish this."
Grateful for his unexpected understanding she smiled at him shyly, meeting his eyes again for a fraction of a second before she stepped past him and clambered quickly beneath the sheets.
"You won't need the dress. Give it to me." He held out a hand.
Hermione flushed as she pulled the dress awkwardly over her head as she tried to keep herself hidden beneath the blankets. She handed the dress to Snape and quickly pulled the sheets up around her neck. He watched her for a moment, then with a slight shake of his head he laid her dress over the arm of the chair nearest the bed and began to undo the buttons at his wrists.
Hermione wanted to look away, but couldn't help but watch as he slowly peeled away his clothes, soon leaving himself clad in only the white shirt which was long enough to cover the tops of his thighs. The legs underneath were thin and pale, and covered with a fair amount of dark hair, although she didn't find them unattractive.
She studied the face that was half obscured in the dim lighting as he walked back towards the bed. She'd fancied him for a while, but now she realised just how handsome she found him. Even his large nose seemed to fit his face perfectly, and when his face wasn't pinched and tight with anger his lips were full and soft-looking, his high cheekbones well defined. What she'd seen of his body so far had by no means repulsed her, and she wished that he had taken off his shirt this time so she could see him completely.
Hermione became painfully aware of how he must see her. Biologically she was getting on for nineteen now, and she probably wouldn't fill out much more. She felt thin and boyishThe lack of interest from the boys in her peer group had long ago led her to believe that she was too plain to be noticed. Did Snape even find her attractive, or had he been forcing himself to take her, because she'd been given to him, and it was expected for him to treat her in such a way. Was that why he looked at her with such disgust sometimes?
She clutched the sheets tighter around her as he came to stand at the side of the bed. Would she even be able to please him? What would happen to her when she couldn't? Oh God, she was going to be given away, to the Malfoys or one of the other Death-Eaters, maybe Pettigrew or that werewolf. A wave of panic began to rise, and her breathing quickened as Snape sunk onto the bed, pulling the sheets on that side down.
His voice cut through her internal hysterics. "Stop worrying, girl. You're thinking so loud I can almost hear you." He turned to face her. Getting a good look at her face he frowned. "What now, pet?" He sounded irritated.
"I… what if I can't…please you?" She almost wailed.
Snape's face seemed to lose some of its tightness. "You will, pet," he assured gently.
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