Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Forbidden Rapture	By : Marionne25 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 49897 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not making money from this story.

Chapter List
- 61
- 62
- 63
Author's Notes:
Greetings.
My week began well and I am hoping that it would come to end and meet the new one with the same good energy.
A chapter for everyone.
Now, let me tell you something about the chapter.
It isn't something you'd expect or rather something unlikely to really be here but this chapter - despite of it being short - would rather explain a lot of things or rather a lot about Narcissa Malfoy - whom as we've come to know even more in the chapters and how deeply involved she is with the whole thing.
I'm not saying there is something great in here that you would find, but it is somewhat not for the light-hearted especially those who has emotional issues on Mother-and-Son kind of thing.
Here, despite and inspite of all that she is, we prove that narccisa will do just about everything and anything for Draco.
And how that love, has affected not Draco but a lot of other lives.
And how later you would come across to see and understand it would soon affect the present situation of the characters as we come closer to the end.

Reviews and chats are all warmly welcome.
Life or rather the love and personal aspects of mine aren't really well at the moment.
But as long as I have a cup of joe at hand, my ever erratic schedule in my music teaching jobs and the friends in the Harry Potter world I have, I'll be okay.
Let's not forget that two cups of joe in a day.
Lots of love
xx

Chapter Sixty One
Memoirs

A definite and deafening scream echoed all over the room.
It would have alarmed the whole inn had Snape not casted a Silencing Charm all over the room.
Narcissa lay crumbled over the carpeted floor, screaming her lungs out and tears streaking down from her usually cold eyes.
Snape sat on the same floor, holding her down as she struggled with the pain inside of her.
She was kicking, tugging and clawing on Snape’s arms and her eyes were tightly shut and a few dried blood were still visible at the side of her nose.
It was their second time experimenting on taking the curse out of her blood.
And it was also the second time that it didn’t work and only ended this way.
Snape already warned her as he had a hunch that the curse in her blood wasn’t something curable or to be messed with.
But Narcissa wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He warned her that the results may be unwanted or agonizing or both.
But as for what she was, she wouldn’t take a crap from anyone – not even Snape.
So she forced him to finish the potion that she drained in one go an hour ago.
They waited and waited patiently for results.
It had been a good and quiet half an hour.
Until she started getting dizzy and she threw up once.
And then nothing.
And then her nose began to bleed and her insides suddenly grew with a pain that resembled her organs being eaten up.
She was as good as dead.
Snape had brought in a counter-potion to the one she had taken and he hoped against hope that it would work.
Judging by the colour of her skin and her eyes, he couldn’t tell if the counter-potion would work but she wasn’t worsening given the bleeding of the nose had stopped abruptly.
But the pain inside her was agonizing.
He couldn’t even look at her with dry eyes.
He held her closely, tightly.
He held her still, letting her painfully claw her finger all over him as the pain in her went through.
He kept whispering words of comfort to her.
But Narcissa was a strong woman.
She may scream in pain but she wasn’t going down without a fight.
It was the most physically agonizing twenty minute of her life.
And then it all stopped.
Her fingers slackened from Snape’s arms and she remained still.
“Cissy?” Snape called back alarmingly.
He moved her face to him and shook it several times.
No movements.
He bent closer her to feel and hear her pulse.
It was so weak it didn’t feel like it was there at all.
“Cissy!” Snape called again shaking her.
He took her jaw by his hand and shook her several times.
“Cissy, wake up!” Snape called in alarm, eyes wide.
Part fearful and part angry of himself on why he had allowed this, Snape held her tightly.
Until she coughed out.
Her skin began to return its usual colour.
“Cissy!” Snape called out to her kissing her forehead and gently rocking her back and forth.
She coughed again, her hand very weak as it searched for his.
“Cissy! Can you hear me – can you-“
“Draco.” Narcissa weakly mumbled. “D-Draco..”
Snape kissed her forehead and placed his other arm beneath her white nightdress.
“Draco.. I need to-“
“You need rest.” Snape said heaving her up and carrying her back to the bed.
He gently settled her back and moved the pillows and arranged the blankets around her comfortably.
“D-Dr-aco..” Narcissa mumbled again. “I need.. h-he will look..”
“I will bring you first thing in the morning.” Snape assured her as he kissed her forehead.
He watched her on the bed, falling back into sleep as the after-effect of the strong Sleeping Draught he infused in the potion and possibly out of exhaustion from the pain she’s endured.
“An hour..” Narcissa said reaching for his hand and forcing her eyes to open. “An..an..an hour.. He will.. he will look.. Draco..”
“You need rest.” Snape said. “I will bring you back to the manor when you can.”
Narcissa gave one last movement and whispered Draco’s name before falling completely back to sleep.
Snape stared down at her with burning hot eyes from tears.
She was thinner than he’d ever seen her.
And despite what they were both going through, despite her emotional turmoil from the result of Lucius’ trial and Draco’s own disinterest in life and all the physical pain she was enduring due to the curse, she had forced herself to remain strong.
It were all still for Draco.
She would rather keep him blind of all things happening to her than let him know of her dying state.
She loved her on so much that she’d rather endure all that were ugly and disdainful all by herself.
She wanted to give Draco only the good and best memoirs of her and keep all that were haunting away from Draco’s knowledge.
She wanted to take with her all the best and worst of all their memoirs.
And she wanted to leave behind only the best of her to Draco and nothing short of it all.
How could he say no to her?
How could he say no to the woman who had been there for him despite and in spite all of it?
It was the littlest way possible he could pay her back.
He couldn’t leave her.
He couldn’t neglect her littlest of requests out of the many she had given him.
He couldn’t leave his dearest Cissy.
He couldn’t bring himself to fail her in any way.
Not now, not ever.
To hell and Azkaban it may all be.

Bill and Lupin were quietly staring as Harry washed his hands off from the kitchen sink.
His clothes were drenched in sweat and what looked like soil and blood altogether.
Lupin, Mrs. Weasley and Bill were having an early morning coffee when Harry arrived just as Mr. Weasley left for work.
One look at him and Bill and Lupin were already both alert with their wands.
One look at Mrs. Weasley and she quietly nodded and told them to make coffee for Harry while she walked up the stairs to the girls’ room.
It was probably better than the girls knew of Harry’s arrival and appearance before they come downstairs for breakfast a few hour later.
When Draco left for the night, Fleur offered that Hermione and Ginny sleep with her in their room while Bill sleeps in Ginny’s room instead.
Hermione had been too emotionally tired to protest and Ginny who was slowly seeing the turnout of events around them, agreed to follow whatever Fleur, Bill and Lupin thought would help their situation – or rather, Harry’s situation.
Despite that Hermione and Ginny weren’t as much in speaking term as Fleur and Hermione, they no longer argued nor talked about what has been.
Hermione seemed to care more of her than what she has done even if it placed her in a difficult situation.

It was quite alarming to have Harry arrive an hour early before the sun even rises and looking like he had been from some sort of battle.
Lupin warned them not to ask questions – not yet anyway.
He had not spoken to any of them the moment he arrives except for the time that he greeted Mrs. Weasley a good morning when he told Bill to make coffee for him.
Bill and Lupin were exchanging looks as Harry’s back was turned to them.
Lupin kept telling Bill to go up the stairs or get out of the kitchen so he can ‘ask’ Harry where he has been and why he was looking like he just buried a dead body.
But Bill wasn’t comfortable.
He didn’t want to leave Lupin alone with Harry given their last encounter that Lupin told them about.
They could only be more than glad that Draco had decided to leave two hours earlier the moment Hermione had finally fallen into a deep sleep.
Before Bill and Lupin could agree upon something, Harry had finished and had turned to them.
His eyes were sunken deep like he had not been sleeping for hours or rather days.
“Can I use Ginny’s bathroom?” he asked them.
There was no hint of anything in his tone.
He looked exhausted and sleepy.
“Yes.” Bill said. “I also have some extra clothes. Would you like to borrow? I can get you one.”
“Yes, thank you.” Harry simply answered wiping his hands off from the towel that Bill handed him.
Bill and Lupin eyed one another.
“I’ll get the clothes.” Bill said giving him a small smile.
“Thanks.” Harry muttered grabbing a mug from the cupboards he knew too well.
Lupin quietly watched by the door as Harry moved around the kitchen, grabbing coffee, milk and sorts for his drink.
He had ignored the one that Mrs. Weasley had asked Bill to make for him.
“I’m not here to make any scene.” Harry quietly said without looking up at Lupin as he stirred his coffee.
“I didn’t say you would.” Lupin casually replied.
It was unnerving.
The silence in the room was indifferent and the exchanges of tones – they were quiet yet restrained beyond effort.
They literally didn’t meet eye to eye but Lupin was highly alert and Harry still had his wits about him.
“Where have you been?” Lupin calmly asked him.
“Why do you care?” he asked back.
His emerald eyes slowly turned up to him – a deep and dark spark in them glimmered.
It was scary as if he was being possessed.
For a moment, Lupin expected that Harry would say something to emotionally wound him once more.
But he didn’t.
Harry heavily sighed and finished stirring his coffee before answering him.
“I worked on a problem.” Harry casually said as if they were talking about an overnight job he had to finish for the Ministry.
The ‘I worked and took care of a problem’ wouldn’t have sounded so relevant if Harry’s mental and emotional condition haven’t been alarming lately.
But the way it sounded at the moment – working and taking care of a problem – sounded more like ‘I murdered someone’ to Lupin.
“Ministry business?” Lupin slowly asked him, closely watching his body language.
Harry had slowly opened a drawer and had taken out a large knife from it.
“Yes.” Harry slowly answered him as he held the knife in his hand. “Classified Ministry business.”
Lupin quietly nodded at him.
“Would you like a sandwich?” he asked him. “I’m going to make one for myself.”
It was disturbing.
The way he held the knife and the way his tone sounded.
“No.” Lupin said keeping his ground by the doorway. “I’m good.”
“Good.” Harry said as he turned from him and began making himself a quick breakfast.
“Do you need help?” Lupin asked him as he opened drawers and cases around the kitchen as if he didn’t know what he was looking for.
“No.” Harry answered as he took a large loaf and rigidly sliced it into two.
Lupin watched as he threw the knife aside and threw some ready sliced tomatoes, greens, cheese and a few slices of ham from the previous night’s container.
Lupin watched in silence and the only sound in the kitchen was the spatter of spread and ingredients that Harry was throwing over his plate.
“I can help you there.” Lupin offered again even though he didn’t move from where he was.
“I said I’m fine.” Harry said in a dead tone. “I’ve been doing things all my life, professor. I think I can handle making a sandwich for myself.”
He finished up and threw everything back in their rightful places making the most annoying sound in the kitchens early that morning.
Lupin walked closer when Harry settled himself behind the chair with his plate and coffee.
Even from a slight distance, he could smell the stench of blood, soil and what smelled like sea water from Harry.
Three guesses where he has been.
“I’m going out with Hermione later.” Harry said as he began to chew on his sandwich.
“Yes.” Lupin said staring at him. “She’s told us about your itinerary with her today.”
“One day and hours to go.” Harry said with a smile over his face. “I can’t wait.”
Harry’s eyes bore over the cup of coffee before them.
But Lupin saw differently.
His gaze was there but something in the glimmer of it nor in the tone of his voice told him that he was somewhere.
That there was a Harry before him who was disturbed, troubled and slightly scary and then there was the glimmer of the Harry they all knew of.
Had they neglected him this much through those years?
How could he have failed James so miserably?
There was silence between them.
“I have to go.” Harry said. “’Mione is going to wake up early. We have a long day. You’ve seen and tried your suit out, right?”
Lupin turned as he stopped by the door.
Harry was looking expectantly at him – a glimmer of that boy he knew too well was somewhere ein there.
“Yes.” Lupin said and he gave him a small smile as he nodded. “Fits perfectly.”
“Great.” Harry said as he stared up at his beloved mentor and friend. “You have one job on that day.”
“I know.” Lupin said. “To stand next to my bestfriend’s son right down that aisle as he waits for his one true love.”
Their eyes met.
Harry smiled at him – the Harry Potter – the boy he knew.
“One job alone.” Harry said as he smiled up at him.
“One job alone.” Lupin agreed with a smile back at him. “I always had one job, Harry.”
Something in their words felt very differently from what they sounded like.
“Your job was never easy.” Harry sighed back at him. “And I never belittled it.”
“I never said you did.” Lupin smiled at him placing his hands over the boy’s shoulder.
There was a mixture of raw emotions from Harry’s eyes – of pain, disdain and at the same time the look of being grateful and regretful towards the man before him.
“On the day, your job isn’t really different from what it has always been.” Harry said.
“Eh?” Lupin quietly asked him.
Harry stared back at him as if replaying all the good memories he had with the man.
“On the day, your job is to stand by my side – the father r who always stood by his son’s child.”
It took a moment for the whole sentence to really sink in Lupin’s mind.
It took him a while to recover.
Harry smiled back at him and that smile he has not seen in years has slowly turned away from him as he moved around and about and left the kitchen with Lupin’s eyes burning in tears as the boy left him alone.

“You called for me?”
“Come in.”
Draco slowly entered his mother’s room.
It was dark and the hue from the sunset made the whole room a bit more depressing than it usually was already.
“Are you done packing?” Narcissa stiffly asked Draco without turning.
She stood by the window, eyes staring down at her beautiful gardens that was overlooking from the bedroom.
“Not yet.” Draco dryly answered her as he walked to the middle of the room.
Narcissa didn’t say anything and Draco couldn’t help but wonder what in the one-thousand in one things he has done it could be that seemingly called his mother’s attention for her to call her to their bedroom.
They usually talked in her office or in the library of the manor.
Sometimes when she was in a better mood, she would ask for him to come to her gardens.
At some other good or bad times, she would come to visit him in his quarters.
But to be called in the master’s bedroom was a different story.
He was rarely ever invited there especially when his father was around – it was a place of privacy for the King and Queen of the manor.
There was only a limited number of circumstances for which he has been allowed or summoned to their bedroom and both were even not the best stories.
Draco felt that he had done something severe to be called forth there at that very moment.
“When do you plan to begin packing?” Narcissa asked him.
In truth, he really didn’t want to pack his belongings at all.
The war was seemingly at its peak and would soon surely come to its end.
It has been three months since the death of the great Albus Dumbledore.
The death of him was a failed mission for the Malfoys – or rather for Draco.
He had done his best all the last school year to do something – anything – to be able to prove himself to the Dark Lord in the hopes of bringing back the dignity, pride and the name of the Malfoys in the line of the Dark Lord’s allies.
He had hoped against desperate hopes that he could claim their place after the failure of his father who has recently been taken out of Azkaban only to face the same shame.
The war was all-out in the open by now.
Deaths were everywhere and the recklessness of his aunt Bellatrix was bringing forth twice the fear to the Wizarding World.
She was relishing each and every moment of her duty as the Dark Lord’s most loyal lieutenant.
But his mother was different.
Calculated, restrained and composed as she has always been – she kept their heads above their sinking boat with her wise decisions.
She had been making most of the major decisions since Lucius had been punished at his failure in his mission in the Department of Mysteries.
And so, in more than a month, Narcissa has decided to bring Draco out of the war.
She knew and believed that they can never reclaim their name in the Dark Lord’s circle and there certainly wasn’t any place or them in the society.
But she was Narcissa Malfoy and a Black at that.
She has all the money she needs as a Black heir alone if she had a choice to leave it all.
But she had Draco.
And begrudgingly, she would take the Malfoy money that Draco has rights to and her fair share as the wife of the man who owns it all.
What she has will always be Draco’s.
And with what she has left and resources she can still use, she will do anything to bring Draco out of harm’s way.
She had settled and decided to bring Draco out of the country whether Lucius wanted it or not.
She had decided to take Draco out of whatever the outcome of the war would be.
She no longer cared which side won for as long as she can ensure a secured life and future for her only son.
“I will finish by tonight.” Draco promised her as he walked closer to her mother who kept her back at him.
“Then you must not forget all your belongings.” Narcissa quietly said with a slight quiver in her voice.
Draco didn’t miss it.
He looked up at her mother in wonder and noticed that she seemingly was holding something in her hands.
But before he could even ask her, she sharply turned and faced him.
“Then make sure you don’t forget to pack away all this trash you’ve been keeping!”
Draco opened his mouth to ask when something came flying his way his way that went straight and painfully right at his face.
The weight and shock of it hit him so hard that his visions blackened out for the briefest of moment.
But before he could even completely recover something a bit more painful came his way.
The blow of a slap so hard came over his right cheek that he thought his jaw had been realigned.
Draco gasped and felt his visions blurring but it was the cry of his mother that came down at him.
“HOW COULD YOU!” Narcissa screamed recklessly at him. “HOW COULD YOU, DRACO!”
She was red in the face out of anger, breathless and looked ready to murder her own son.
Draco stared up at her and before he could even take a look at what she threw at him, Narcissa grabbed it back from him and hit him twice with it.
“I TOLD YOU – I TOLD YOU, DRACO!” Narcissa yelled back at him as she painfully pushed it towards him.
Draco stared back at her mother’s reckless anger that he didn’t understand.
And then he grasped the object she was hitting it with.
It was one of his oldest school bags – a long, zipped one that he had kept away.
His eyes widened in fear and realization.
In their tugging, the old and weak zipper slipped open and all of its contents poured out of it.
There were scraps of old parchments, pieces of old notes, a very old looking notebook of his, two broken quills, a red scarf and then photographs.
Stolen shots.
Stolen shots of Hermione Jean Granger.
Draco’s eyes turned from the objects that scattered all over the floor and back to his mother.
His face was pale and he looked ready to run for his life.
“Mother-“
“I told you to stop this nonsense!” Narcissa screamed. “I told you that this is going to be the death of you!”
“Mother – please –“
“For fuck’s sake, Draco!” she angrily screamed at him as she lost control of everything. “Goddamit, Draco – she’s a Mudblood!”
“Do not call her that!” Draco screamed back at her forgetting who he was talking to.
Then came another blow.
His left cheek now endured the second slap.
It was less painful but it still gave him the same dreadful feeling.
Caught red handed in the situation, Draco knew that he couldn’t lie or reason his way out of this one.
“I told you from the very beginning Draco – this nonsense – this – this fascination of yours-“
“It’s not fascination!” Draco yelled back at Narcissa and looking very insulted and hurt.
Narcissa looked back at him with a mixture of anger and vast disappointment at her own son.
“You are my only son, Draco!” Narcissa screamed back at him. “You are my only son and you – you want to die because – because of some stupid, foolish schoolgirl crush-“
“I didn’t do anything, did I?” Draco yelled back at his mother.
He bent forward to pick up his belongings but Narcissa pulled him by the collar of his suit and pushed him away from all of it.
Draco’s eyes widened as she pushed him, she had stepped forward and on the photos and over the scarf.
“If you - you aren’t thinking – I’ve never – I’ve always taught you to control your emotions –you Draco – my only boy-–“ Narcissa was so angry that she could barely contain herself and complete her sentences
“This is why you failed!” Narcissa said. “This is why – this is why you are half-hearted all along! I told you from the beginning – I told you-“
“AND I TOLD YOU THAT I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” Draco screamed back at him.
He looked back at her, arms raised and ready to defend himself because Narcissa raised her hand again.
But she didn’t hit him.
Their eyes met.
Draco knew that look from her and Narcissa knew that look from him.
“I am trying to protect you – I have – I told you that you can love anyone else –anyone, Draco! Anyone – but you – you cannot – I can’t – I won’t let you – Draco – my son - you can have anyone else Draco- anyone – anyone but her!“
“Please – I didn’t – I don’t want to-“
“If the Dark Lord finds out – if the Dark Lord –“
“He doesn’t know.” Draco said through gritted teeth. “And he wouldn’t know because there’s nothing to know.”
“How could you defy me.” Narcissa whispered. “I have dedicated.. I have given you everything.”
“I didn’t defy you.” Draco answered her as tears leaked down from both his eyes. “I never did.”
Narcissa was at lost for words.
She was so angry that Draco thought her shaking was already a sign of an upcoming heart attack.
“Please.” Draco quietly pleaded as he cried in front of her. “Mother.. you just.. I would never...”
Narcissa looked back at him with such disappointment in her eyes that he has never seen before.
“Please.” Draco begged her. “You’re the only one I’ve got.”
Draco looked ready to get down on his knees to beg for her forgiveness.
A tear fell from Narcissa’s eyes that she had been holding back the whole time.
Her hands were shaking in fists by her sides as if restraining to hit Draco or embrace the boy.
“Mother…”
Narcissa heavily sighed and turned to face away from him.
“Keep all these away.” Narcissa said in a more controlled voice and manner as she quickly recovered and gained self-control.
Draco looked unbelievingly up at her.
. “I would go and have the dining hall prepared for dinner.”
“Mother-“
“I want this place cleared.” Narcissa coldly said. “I want you in the dining within an hour.”
And then without another word, she left her own bedroom for Draco to clear his things away.
It took him a moment to have the courage to even move a muscle from the encounter.
His eyes slowly moved down his fallen belongings.
And with a clouded mind and a heavy heart, Draco slowly got down to his knees to pick everything up.
From the broken quill Hermione once left when she stayed very late in the library for Snape’s essay about werewolves, the Gryffindor scarf that he found over the stands one afternoon where she had sat after watching Harry’s practice for the match they lost because of the Dementors, pieces and scraps of her worksheets he had stolen from a pile of old students’ checked and recorded worksheets at the faculty room where Snape once left him, an old notebook where all the secrets of his nights were written and then the stolen shots.
Hermione and Harry studying for their O.W.L.s at the corner-most part of the library.
Hermione studying by herself against the large tree by the lake the weekend that Harry and Ron had Quidditch practice.
Hermione happily cheering for Harry as they played against Ravenclaw.
Hermione dancing with Krum at the Yule Ball.
Hermione sitting alone in a table at the Great Hall while she waited for Krum to get them drinks.
Hermione studying alone in the library one very late Friday night and toying with what looked like coins over her table.
Hermione reading a book she was about to purchase behind aisles of books in a store at Diagon Alley the day he revisited Burgin and Burkes.
Hermione by a corner at Three Broomsticks saving a table for the three of them while the other two finished their purchases at the Weasleys’ new shop at Diagon Alley.
And lastly, a photograph of Hermione descending the Hogwarts Express that very school year when she doubled back to find where Harry was and why he wasn’t with their group descending the train.
It was the last photograph.
It was his last photograph of her.
It may have been creepy or called stalking, but he wasn’t at all.
Tears leaked down Draco’s face as he slowly picked up each and every object and each photograph and placed them all back in his bag.
These were chances upon chances he came across her – hidden behind the shadows and taking glimpses of her and eternally keeping memoirs of her in time in fear that it could be the last time he would ever see her again.
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Forbidden Rapture