Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Scattered	By : Tnteacups Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 25013 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I don't make any money from this fiction.

Chapter List
- 8
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- 10
Climbing Lessons
Hermione had spent the rest of the week ignoring her sore feet and legs, unwilling to mention them to Snape, for fear that he’d touch her again. Her biggest worry was how much she wanted him to. Besides the tension that had sparked between them afterward, the massage itself had felt heavenly, and each night her muscles ached, she wanted to beg for another. But she was worried that if she invited him to put his hands on her again, they would get swept up in the tension and passion that had enveloped her whenever he kissed her. If him touching her and being so close made her want him, then she’d solve the problem by taking that nearness out of the equation. She stayed firmly on her side of the tent at night, keeping her legs still as they prickled and throbbed with overuse, knowing that if she moved too much, he’d know she was in pain again, and he might grab her leg before she could deny him. She knew that if he were to press his fingers so skillfully into her muscles, she wouldn’t stop him. She’d be too thankful for the assistance that she’d keep her mouth closed, and let him work, even if it meant she ended up burning alive again.
She kept her eyes away from him, too, unless they were practicing, not willing to see anymore of his pleasure or imagination. He dutifully continued to show her nothing of his own thoughts except the very worst of his memories and illusions, presenting her with more horrifying things whenever she managed to keep herself from reacting. She could feel herself detach slightly from her body almost, keeping her thoughts from being displayed on her face, or by a flinch. Despite her outward indifference, her mind still reeled with the dark thoughts. She knew she should keep better control of her inward reactions too, but she couldn’t help the mental retch whenever he showed her more of Bellatrix’s muggle playthings. Nor could she stop herself from pulling away slightly whenever the glassy eyes of a lifeless corpse were displayed, whether real or imaginary. It unsettled her to see the dull, lightless expressions, the screaming faces, the blood that dripped from mouths, backs, and every other place that could bleed.
She sat across from him Friday evening, staring blankly into his eyes as he displayed a reel of horror for her to grow accustomed to. She had seen enough in the past week that her face stayed emotionless as she glanced at the memory of a young man groveling on the floor, begging for his life as Bellatrix cackled. Hermione internally cringed as another hex was sent at his body, and she felt the mental twinge of discomfort from the surrounding mind as well. Snape was obviously unhappy with the thoughts, and wanted to watch them perhaps even less than she did, knowing how each ended. It was something he hadn’t shown her yet, the very real closure of Bellatrix’s torture. She knew that the muggles must have died, but she was thankful that Snape hadn’t shown her how. She was fairly certain that every dead body he imagined was just that. Imagined.
“I’ll show you if you feel you’re ready to see, but it’s not something I feel anyone needs to witness.” Snape replied to her internal musing over his insulating endeavors. “I’d like to prepare you to see the real thing, if necessary, but… I also don’t want that stuck in your head, if it’s not needed.” he explained himself, his face just as blank as hers as the memory slid to a halt, his mind distracted by the present.
“No, I think… I appreciate your thoughtfulness. It’s not something I want in my head, either.” She agreed aloud, thinking that the imaginary dead bodies were plenty. She was fairly certain that she could maintain her poker face if she was ever in Bellatrix’s mind, and wasn’t too keen on having any more memories of death than she already had. She’d already seen so many of her friend’s lifeless faces. She wasn’t sure she could handle those of helpless strangers, as well.
“Good. Then we’re done for the day.” he intoned, pushing back from the table, and standing. He tilted his head from side to side, stretching discreetly as he pulled out his wand. Hermione watched him a moment, considering how very human he seemed to her now.
In school, he’d seemed like a hellish demon of a man, intent on destroying the lives of his students, and making everyone as miserable as he was. His fury had been legendary, and he seemed inhuman in his ability to stand or sit rigidly for hours without the slightest hint of discomfort. He’d almost seemed the the kind of man to sleep flat on his back, arms straight beside him, with no movement at all. He’d transformed all of her father’s clothes that she’d brought into similar black robes, but as the summer wore on, he seemed to wear fewer layers, leaving his outfits simple; trousers, button down shirt, boots, and a single outer robe that appeared more like a long jacket than the batlike layers and cape he liked to wear around school. He slept on his side most often, or with his limbs crooked out at odd angles, his head turned slightly, snoring softly. He was no demon. He slept, stretched, and lounged just like a normal person. The last had been a strange sight, as he’d relaxed on his sleeping bag, head propped on one arm, reading in the lamplight. He’d looked so casual, wearing his usual sleep attire of comfortable black cotton covering him from wrists to ankles, that she’d found herself staring for several minutes, comparing the unceremonious sight before her to the angry sweeping mass of darkness that had terrorized schoolchildren. He made a good show of being inhumanly uncompromising, but it was all just an act to keep the children in line, and to gain the respect of his peers. He didn’t want to show weakness in front of any of them, or he’d have a whole slew of people calling him ‘Snivellus’. She’d seen the worry in his mind once, as he sat rigidly in his chair across from her during a lesson. He’d been uncomfortable in that position, but habits were indeed hard to break, and old worries still lingered.
Hermione stood and stretched as well, stepping up to the nearest tree, and attempting to climb into its branches. She grabbed the lowest branch, an appendage that jutted upward from the height of her shoulders, leaving her plenty of space to wrap her arms around, and haul herself up, using her feet against the trunk to scramble onto the branch. She flopped onto her belly, one leg on either side of the wooden limb, clutching tightly as she sat up, and looked for her next branch up.
“That’s amazing, Granger. I’d never know where you went, if I couldn’t see you.” Snape’s sarcastic voice made her look over, and she saw his back was turned. She glared balefully at him, unamused by his attempt at satire.
“No one likes sarcasm.” She shot at him, feeling irritated with his mockery.
“No, you don’t like sarcasm, which makes it all the more tempting for me to use it.” He shot her a nasty grin, and turned back to his own task, ignoring the knives she was imagining in his back.
“If you’re so eager to berate my climbing skills, perhaps you’d like to demonstrate how it’s supposed to be done?” She snapped, swinging her leg back over the branch, and sliding noisily to the ground.
“Not really.” He commented with a shrug, looking back at her with eyebrows raised, clearly baiting her. She took a few deep calming breaths, focusing on the burning scrapes on her palms more than her irritation.
“If you can’t do better, then shut it.” She challenged, turning back to face her leafy nemesis. She heard the thumping of his boots as he stalked toward her, and grinned. He was just as easy to predict. She kept her victorious smile from her face, looking over at him as he drew level with her.
“Hold this.” He ordered, holding out his robe, and giving her an annoyed glance. She took the garment, and watched as he stepped up to the tree. He turned to smirk at her, and then pulled out his wand, pointing it at the ground. She narrowed her eyes, but he put it away just as suddenly, lifting his face to inspect the obstacle. He placed both hands flat on the top of the low hanging branch, jumped slightly, and pushed himself up effortlessly with one foot silently leveraging his weight against the trunk. His knee rested easily on the branch as he brought his anchored foot up, one hand already grabbing the branch above his head for balance as he secured his footing, and stood, lifting himself just as easily to the next level, making nearly no noise as he ascended.
Hermione stared with her mouth hanging open as he crept easily up the tree, making it appear effortless, and graceful. She snapped her jaw shut as he looked down at her with a boastful smirk.
“How’d you do that?” She demanded, “What spell did you cast?”
“A muffling charm.” He replied from his loft, crouching, and dropping back down to the lower branches just as nimbly as he’d gone up.
“But how did you get up there so easily?” She asked, staring at him in confusion as he dropped neatly to the ground in front of her, his fall making a suppressed *thud* as he landed, and straightened up. “Did you use some sort of lightening charm?” She asked, looking him over from head to toe. He’d seemed to drop with the normal body weight, but the way he’d climbed had to be the result of-
“No. Only the muffling charm.” He grabbed his cloak from her and slipped it on, sliding his arms through the dark sleeves, and quickly buttoning the front. Hermione averted her gaze as his nimble fingers secured the robe, frowning at the idea of him being so good at something so childish.
“How did you get so good at climbing trees?” She asked, dogging his steps back to the campfire, where he was heating their dinner. He seemed to have permanently taken over the role of cook, making crass comments about her lack of culinary skill every time she offered.
“As a young boy I used to climb them for fun. I just got good enough at it, that the skill never really left. I suppose if I’d chosen a different career, I may have been unable to do it quite as easily, but being a potion’s master has kept me in shape enough.” He shrugged, giving the small cauldron a stir, and sniffing.
“I don’t understand.” Hermione said, looking him up and down. She hadn’t really noticed before, but he did seem rather fit. Without the billowing black robes, it was easier to see the actual shape of him, the width of his shoulders, the fullness underneath his sleeves that indicated muscle. He wasn’t the bony, sickly figure his pallor might indicate.
“Heavy cauldrons, hours of honing my fine muscle control, and climbing around a storeroom half the day. Not the most exciting exercise, but it’s productive.” He conveyed, making Hermione flush with embarrassment. She’d imagined him sitting at his desk all day, grading papers, or staring into the abyss. She realized it made sense that he was working on potions, keeping the infirmary stocked, supplying the Order, or even perhaps selling them for profit.
“So you can’t teach me how to climb trees unless I become brawny?” She asked, disappointed. He let out a low chuckle, surprising her, and she looked up into his black gaze, looking for the source of his amusement.
“I can teach you. But it would be hands on, and, oh, I thought you were trying to avoid me…” He drawled, his eyes glittering with devilry, his lips fighting a smirk. She could see herself through his thoughts, her pink face, the stiffness with which she’d held herself whenever he approached, how she’d stopped looking into his eyes without invitation.
“I-” She stammered, trying to find an excuse, but her burning cheeks would give away any lie she told. “I didn’t want to make things difficult for you.” She finally bit out, unwilling to meet his eyes, or let him see that she wanted to equally avoid her own discomfort.
“You make my life difficult, every moment you’re awake, girl.” He growled, images of her clambering oafishly up the tree, asking a million questions, and being her usual obsessive self came from his mind, and she blushed deeper, seeing the taunt for what it was. He’d sounded insulting, but the fluttery pink darted around his mind, threatening to enter the conversation if he decided to throw caution to the wind. She looked away, stuffing the flirtatious feeling of his thoughts deep down inside her own mind, and fought her own embarrassment.
“Fine, I’ll take your stupid tree-climbing lessons.” She said, feeling a small amount of anticipation build inside her stomach at the thought of his hands on her. Would he use it as an excuse to fondle her? Would he even need to do something so forward to get a response? She plopped down in her usual chair, and slumped slightly as he continued to make dinner, trying not to think about the possible outcomes of letting him manhandle her against a tree again. It was just another study, not a reason to be hopelessly aroused. She was determined not to overthink it. If she thought about it too much, it would make the operation that much less tolerable.
By the time dinner was served, Hermione had all but managed to push the threat of his hands on her out of her mind, and focus instead on what he might teach her. Foot placement? Heaving techniques? She laughed inwardly at that last thought, imagining there actually being a certain art to tree-climbing, instead of just practice, and strength.
“Would you like your first climbing lesson after dinner?” Snape’s voice came across the table, smooth as butter, polite, and completely proper. She looked up, staring into his thoughts with suspicion.
“-bother asking? Of course she’s going to say yes, the insufferable know-it-all. Has to learn everything, and it has to be immediately. Probably give up sleeping if it meant she could learn faster. One way to tell if she’s ever being imitated, offer her lessons in something completely trivial. Care for a class on the proper way to stare at a wall for hours, Granger?”
She pulled away, feeling amusement warring with irritation. She should be annoyed just on principle, but his thoughts hadn’t held any real sourness, and the thought of him asking an imposter to take such a class was worth cracking a smile on it’s own. She supposed if he’d been thinking those things about anyone but herself, she’d have allowed herself to be amused, but pride dictated that she not encourage his lighthearted mockery.
“Sure.” She finally agreed to his spoken question, and faced her dinner with an impassive face. He wasn’t going to get any reaction from her.
As soon as they were finished eating, and the table cleared, she followed him to a nearby tree as the orange light filtering through the trees threatened darkness soon.
“Let me see you try.” He ordered, folding his arms, and leaning back slightly, to watch. She huffed, and grabbed the branch, wrapping her arms around it, one over, one under, and began to kick at the trunk with her feet, trying to push herself up before she lost her grip.
“Stop.” His voice sounded a half second later, and she let her feet drop, releasing the branch, and standing in front of him. She could see the insults in his mind warring with the lesson, and he took a breath, pushing the nastiness away, and entering instructor mode.
“Place both arms on top.” He instructed. Hermione complied, draping her arms over the branch, laying her palms flat.
“This doesn’t feel as secure, though.” She noted, worried that she’d slide right off when she tired going up.
“It won’t stop you from falling the same as hugging the branch, but it will provide you with better leverage, so you’re less likely to need the death grip.” He intoned, and ducked under the branch, to inspect her hands. He came back to her side, and looked her up and down, as if considering how to demonstrate the next step.
“That’s too much.” He finally announced, reaching over her shoulders, and grabbing her forearms. He pulled her arms closer, placing her palms level with her shoulders, and leaving all but the first half of her forearms off the tree.
“I can’t grab it at all now!” She argued, turning her head to frown at him.
“You don’t need to grab it. You need to pull yourself up, not hold on and walk up.” he said, giving her a deadpan look, and releasing her arms. “You need to jump, and then use that motion to get the rest of the way up.” He said, stepping back to let her try. She jumped, wrapping her arms further over the branch, and letting her legs dangle for a second before they connected with the trunk, and scrabbled for purchase. Her feet kept slipping, unable to push herself up with the sideways angle. She slipped to the ground, and let her arms slide from the tree, grimacing at the new scraped feeling that burned her skin.
“You’re still trying to run up it.” Snape chided, and ducked under the branch. He knelt down, and clasped his hands, presenting her with his palms. “Try again, but step here, not the tree.” he directed, holding his hands out to her. She eyed him for a moment, and grabbed the tree again, placing one trainer against his makeshift support. She jumped slightly, pushing at his hands, and hauling herself up over the branch. His hands pushed her foot up, helping her clear the height, while she flung one leg over the branch, and wrapped one arm back around the other way, securing herself.
“That was… Better.” Snape grimaced, and waved his hand, motioning for her to come back down. She slid sideways off the branch, extending one foot, then both as she fell slowly toward the ground, her arms around the bark keeping her from falling on her arse. When she turned to look at him for her next instruction, she saw his fingers dancing down his front, undoing his buttons again, and he removed his robe once more, leaving him in just the slacks and oxford.
“Watch.” He barked, and placed both hands flat on the branch, one foot on the trunk. He hopped slightly, and pushed away from the trunk, bringing his opposite knee up, and the trunk-side hand higher, grabbing a branch above his head with a quick glance, as his booted toes joined his knee on the branch underneath him. He turned to look at her from his crouched position, giving her a questioning glance. “You may not be tall enough to do it exactly the same, but the principle is consistent. You’ll want to remain upright, instead of flat on your stomach. If you’re lying down, you are defenseless until you’ve righted yourself.”
Hermione nodded, and watched him slip backward, letting his legs fall free, and his hands let go, landing easily. Without the muffling charm, his weight had made much more noise, his boot scraping noisily on the trunk, his thump including the rustle of forest under his feet, and the slight grunt he let out.
“Alright.” Hermione said, moving forward eagerly, placing her hand in the same fashion, and pressing one foot into the trunk. She jumped, and pushed away, her hips hitting the branch, and jarring her arms into collapse. She fell to her rump with a groan, grimacing up at the offending branch.
“Hmm…” Snape murmured, staring down at her, one brow lifting, a single finger tapping his cheek inquisitively. Hermione stood, and tried again, managing to bash her hips, knee, and scrape her hands.
“Mmhm. You’re too short.” his voice was calculating, and he walked around her, his eyes narrowed in thought. Hermione crossed her arms, trying not to feel self-conscious as he circled her, and looked at the tree. “Wrap your arms around the trunk, and try crawling up that way, instead.”
He stepped back, and watched her attempt to move upward. She grasped the tree trunk with both arms, placed one foot, then the other. She held the position a moment, and then scooted one foot higher. Her face pressed uncomfortably into the tree, and as soon as she let go to grasp higher, she fell backward.
“Oof!” She gasped as she landed on her butt. She hopped up, ready to try again, but he held out an arm, frowning.
“This tree is too big. You need to practice with a smaller one…” he looked around in the dimming light and pointed out a much thinner, younger stand of foliage. “Climb that one.”
Hermione paced toward it, frowning at the higher branches, and smoother bark. She didn’t believe it would be easier, but she dutifully wrapped her arms around it, and placed one foot.
“Stop.” He was right there, his hand tapping her knee, making her set her foot down, and lean back from the tree to look at him.
“What?” She asked, feeling peeved.
“Wrap your legs around it, too, instead of trying to walk up it, so your legs can hold you up when you move your arms.” He said, his face holding no response to her irritation. She grumbled, and did as she was bid, re-wrapping her arms, and lifting her legs, feeling like a small child as she clung to the sapling. She scooted her arms up, and shook slightly, already feeling her muscles tire from the exercise. She moved one leg up, then the other. She heard Snape sigh behind her, and dropped, landing on her feet, and turned on him, her irritation mingling nastily with her sore muscles.
“Go on, show me.” She demanded, gesturing at the tree, glaring at him.
He shook his head with a smirk. “I’d rather keep my dignity.”
“Are you saying you can’t do it?”
“I can, it’s just… a childish way to climb. Not appropriate for someone my size.” he replied, still smirking. Hermione glared, wondering if the skill was really worth the ‘indignity’ of climbing that way. “Lift yourself up again, and I’ll show you.” He moved closer, and she gave him one last annoyed glare, before she wrapped herself back around the tree.
“Squeeze with your arms, so you can support your whole weight, and move both legs up at once.” He pressed on her arms to indicate tightening her grip, and then tapped her knee. Hermione lifted her legs, wincing slightly as her arms, chest, and jaw scraped slightly under her weight. She pulled both legs higher, and relaxed her arms slightly, fighting the shaking muscles.
“Next, pull your torso away slightly, just your torso, not your arms, and, using your legs to push upward, roll up from your hips.” He tapped her knee again, indicating where she should grip. She pushed with her legs, wincing as her arms and torso dragged along the surface of the tree again.
“No, roll upward.” He said, moving an inch closer, his hands outstretched as if to catch her, or direct her.
“I don’t understand. I can’t roll, I’m hanging on!” She practically shouted at him, trying to work it out in her head. He wanted her to roll, but she couldn’t exactly do that in her position. Was she supposed to go sideways? Backward? If she rolled, would she fall?
“No, I mean-” He choked off, giving a grunt of frustration, and next moment, his hands grabbed her hips, and she could feel the heat of his proximity against her back. “Grip with your legs, and push your hips outward, and up, he pulled at her, directing her where to go. She felt awkward as she stuck her rear out toward him, suddenly feeling a jolt of awareness that he was once again trapping her between his chest, and a tree. She didn’t have time to wonder if he would try anything funny, before his hands moved upward, making her jump slightly as he continued his instruction.
“Now replace your hips higher on the tree, while making the same motion with your stomach, and chest, rolling yourself upward.” His fingers dug into her ribs slightly as he pushed and pulled at her, trying to show her exactly how to do it. She gulped down her awkwardness and curled upward, banging slightly harder against the tree as she rested against the bark.
“Then your arms, one quick movement upward, returning you to your original position, and ready to do it over again.”
She gripped with her knees again, and jolted her arms upward, her chest leaving the tree for a millisecond as she regained her hold.
“Good. Again.” He barked, moving back, and taking his supportive hands with him. Hermione realized just how much of her weight he’d still been holding up, as she suddenly was left to brace herself, her arms weak, her legs trembling as she pulled them up. In the short moment that her legs left the tree, her arms gave out, and she fell to the ground for the last time that night.
“I can’t. I’m too tired.” She muttered, standing, and shaking out her sore muscles.
“Fine, we can try again tomorrow.” Snape said, his voice just as blank as his face. He was heading back toward their table and tent before she could look into his eyes, and all she could do was trail after him on quivering legs, hoping she didn’t fall over.
Hermione watched him douse the fire, and climb into the tent, zipping it behind himself. She gave him a few moments to change in private, waiting for the tent to reopen, so she could do the same. He stepped out in his usual black sweats and long sleeved T-shirt, his wand in hand. He moved around their small campsite, making the circles of protection before they turned in for the night. He walked farther out, setting the wards that would wake them before anyone could reach their protective barriers, as an added precaution, and Hermione slipped into the tent, grabbing her own pajamas, and changing hastily. The warm June air promised to get no cooler, so she donned shorts and a comfortable wireless bra, slipping a t-shirt over her head before finally unzipping the tent for her companion. She sat on her sleeping bag, rubbing at her sore legs with sore fingers, doubting the next day would bode any better. Her ribs still ached where he’d held her up, and her shoulders hurt from the strain of tree-climbing. She could see bruises forming on her knee where she’d knocked it against the first tree, and pulled up her shirt slightly, examining her hip, to find a matching splotch there as well.
“Do you need something for those?” Snape’s cool offer preceded him, his face entering the tent first, his eyes catching sight of her blooming blemishes.
“No. They’re not that bad.” She replied, dropping her shirt back in place. She settled between the sheets of her makeshift bed. Her sleeping bag provided good enough padding, but she was glad of her decision to pack sheets and blankets. She’d never much cared for the feeling of the bag’s material against her bare skin in the summer heat. She hid her bruised and aching legs under a flowery sheet, enjoying the cool cotton against her skin. She settled down into her bedroll, and closed her eyes, hoping her exhaustion would carry her quickly to sleep…
A/N: I really am starting to feel bad about how slow they are taking this, but every attempt at speeding things up just ended up with a writing quality that would shame me and my ancestors. BUT I will be posting two chapters, to make up for the delay in updating over the holidays!!
Clem: Thanks for being so dedicated, and for your many comments! They're one of the main reasons I even remember to update!
Amsev: Let me know how your opinion of the story develops, as it goes!
Owlofpaper: It makes me make inhuman noises to know you like my writing style so much! Have you read any of the other two I have posted currently? One is a male/male counterpart to this story, but the other is a bdsm Dramione you might enjoy. :D They might keep you entertained in the time it's taking me to finish this story. I'm currently updating about once a month, but you won't have to wait for monthly updates forever, once I have it all written, I plan to upload it much MUCH faster.
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