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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.
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
- 27-27
- 28-28
- 29-29
- 30-30
- 31-31
- 32-32
- 33-33
- 34-34
- 35-35
- 36-36
- 37-37
- 38-38
- 39-39
- 40-40
- 41-41
- 42-42
- 43-43
- 44-44
- 45-45
- 46-46
- 47-47
- 48-48
- 49-49
- 50-50
- 51-51
- 52-52
- 53-53
- 54-54
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- 101-101
- 102-102
- 103-103
- 104-104
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- 47
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- 49
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Snape listened impatiently, his back pressed against the wooden door and his mind fixed on the hurt look in her eyes as he'd told her to get out. The memory of her begging to know if she'd pleased him after he'd used her so roughly made him feel sick, and he could feel himself trembling from holding his emotions in check.

As soon as he heard the girl leave his bedroom he let go of the fury that had been building inside him. Bottles went flying as he swept them off the long wooden table with his arms, a cauldron full of an unfinished potion spilling over onto the floor as he knocked it off its perch.

In a minute there was only one half empty phial left standing at the far end of the table, beyond his reach. Snape eyed it angrily. He strode down the room and snatched up the bottle, holding it tightly in his shaking hand. Since getting the girl to agree to doing whatever he wanted he had hoped not to have to drink the potion again. He'd not needed it last night, and when he'd decided to wake the girl up a short while ago, he'd already been hard and ready at the sight and feel of her lithe body before him.

He'd been truly angry when she'd slapped him before knocking into him as she sat up. The last time anyone had touched him physically like that had been when he was much younger. He'd been cursed and hexed more times than he could count, but the last person to hit him was his father. He'd seen red when she'd hit him, and reacted automatically, only hanging onto his temper by the barest thread.

The sight of her frightened little face steeling herself for the blow she had expected had broken through his fury, and he'd lowered his hand, his anger dissipating instantly. He'd realised then he could use her reaction to being woken up as an excuse for getting some much needed distance from her for a while. He hadn't counted on her throwing herself to the floor and begging him to forgive her. He'd been unable to speak for a few moments, and when he had, it had been hard to keep the rage in his voice.

He'd known it would appear strange if he didn't take advantage of what she was offering so earnestly, but by then his arousal was long gone, and he knew it wouldn't be returning without help. He'd had to search for the potion in the back of the cupboard where he'd thrown it a week or so previously, when the girl had become more willing, and he had no longer needed it to force an erection.

He'd taken the small sip that was all that was needed, grimacing as the bitter taste reminded him of the night he had first drunk it, knowing that he would be unable to force himself on the girl without taking it. He could still see the terror in her eyes as he'd dragged her out of bed and pressed her up against the wall. At least this time she was willing.

The girl's not in her right mind. She's only acting like this because she insisted you dose her up with a lust potion. She'd never want you this way without it. It's no different to when you forced yourself on her before, just because she's begging for it this time. This is it. I'm done… finished! The girl will be leaving tonight. I don't care what the old man says, I can't do this anymore.

You must… you know what's at stake. She's willing to do what must be done, you can't give in now. So many years, and finally we're so close to ending it all. It's too late to change your mind. Everything you've put her through will have been for nothing.

"Fuck," he screamed, uncharacteristically letting his temper get the better of him. He slammed the phial down on the counter, barely feeling the shards cutting into his hand and the cold liquid slopping over him as it smashed on the hard surface. He sank down slowly onto the floor, his arms resting on his bent knees and watched apathetically as the blood ran down his fingers and trickled onto the floor.

He sat there for ten minutes, until the wounds began to clot around the glass still embedded in his hand. He got shakily to his feet, gritting his teeth as he carefully pulled the larger pieces out. Some were too small to get with his fingers, so he crossed the room to his cupboard to find something her could use.

He hissed loudly as he pulled the last few shards out, placing them with the other blood-stained pieces on the wooden counter. Then he went back to look for a basic healing potion he knew he had somewhere in his stores. Searching through the countless phials to find the one he wanted his eyes were automatically drawn to a medium-sized bottle at the front that he had been using regularly. He knew this would be another such time.

Finally he found what he was looking for, and he quickly downed it, watching as his hand quickly healed, leaving only faint red lines where before there had been nasty weeping gashes. He used his wand to scourgify the rest of the blood away before reaching back into the cupboard and pulling out the bottle he'd noticed before.

It was full of a silvery blue substance that glowed eerily. He swirled it gently and watched as his memories spun around inside the container. He felt the last vestiges of his anger slowly disappearing. She will understand, one day. He still felt uncomfortable at the thought of her being privy to such personal moments, but he felt he needed to do this, for her.

Finally calm again, he grabbed his wand, pressing it to his head and concentrating on his memories of the last hour. When he pulled away a thin silvery thread was attached to the end, and he deposited it into the phial, watching it pulsate gently as it was pulled in to swirl around with the rest of his memories.

With one final look, he turned to leave the lab, taking the phial with him. He decided he would leave it in the cupboard with the girl's memories and spell it so that only he could see and open it, or, in the event of his death, the girl could instead. It was the least he could do for her.
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Memories of Deception