Before She'd Ever Been Born (SS/Hr) | By : avari20 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 5824 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Before She'd Ever Been Born
“I’m so in love with you it hurts, damn you,” he growled into her ear.
“Leave me alone!” she sobbed into his. She shook her head to clear it--he buried his hand in her hair to still the movement, unable to bear even that small sign of rebellion. He held her body closer than she had ever imagined possible. He pressed wet fervent kisses to her jaw, savoring the salty taste of her perspiration. It meant she felt something for him. Desire, fear, love, it didn’t matter to him anymore.
There had been a time in his life when tender sentiments such as mercy had still existed somewhere deep in his heart. Years of surviving in a deadly sub-culture obsessed with purity and thinly disguised ambition had driven those useless qualities out of him swiftly and brutally. His compatriots had no loyalty to anyone but their mutual lord, and turned on one another with all the rabidity of werewolves at the slightest hint of weakness. He had learned the art of treachery well, excelled in it, and had risen above the others in their lord’s estimation as a result.
The world had been at his feet once. He had found in the last crucial second, however, that he couldn’t crush it beneath his heel when he’d had the chance.
All because of the girl now in his arms.
It had been an accident. A random coagulation of events that had altered the course of his life forever. A misplaced spell, a Muggle crystal ball, and standing in just the right position. Suddenly images had flooded his brain. He had seen her at random moments of her life, from the second she was born to the day she died. He had heard her laugh, watched her cry, known the depth of her character in an instant.
He wanted it.
Emotions had hit him so hard that breathing had become a chore. Desire, fear, and something so foreign, so glaringly absent from his life that he had immediately recognized it for what it was…..Love. All consuming obsession that found its root in his fallow heart. In the space of a few heartbeats he had been abruptly presented with a choice that allowed him no time to think or rationalize. It was so terrible in its simplicity.
Continue on his set course, or take the other road. Remain the Dark Lord’s trusted tool and assassin, or turn against him completely to fight for the Dark Lord’s antithesis.
Kill her before she’d ever been born, or let her live.
It would have come down to just that, he knew. Because the one he had suddenly been confronted with was everything he had been working to destroy. A Muggleborn. A Mudblood.
When he reflected on that moment years later, after he had met her for the first time, he realized there had never really been a choice for him at all.
And it disgusted him. He, the coldest wizard of them all, devoid of passion and pleasure, had been abruptly stripped of his free will and his command of his own destiny. He had hated her for it even as he ensured her survival and prosperity with every resource at his disposal. He had managed to bury his desperation behind a blazing loathing for years. He had done everything in his power to hurt her, hating himself for hurting with her, had cultivated her dislike for him….
Until one day he had snapped.
Again it was her fault. She was the one who had suddenly discovered that she was a desirable girl, and decided to test her wiles out on an all-too-eager Weasley. Why couldn’t she have stayed unaware of her sexuality? He had raged about it silently for days until the realization struck him.
He had been a fool. He had chosen a path as self-destructive as the first he had taken so many years ago. He couldn’t control himself around her. His pain at her silent rejection eroded that control further until emotions took over reason.
That led him to this very moment. Too many times he had seen the two of them flirt, looking at one another, touching one another innocently. He had lashed out in an uncharacteristic show of emotion once she had happened past his private section of the building. It had begun with a stilted conversation concerning a fabricated problem with one of the wizarding museum’s newest acquisitions. The longer he looked at her, the more insistent those infuriating memories became. His temper had frayed. The conversation turned into an argument and escalated until he hadn’t been able to hear her for the adrenaline rushing in his ears.
He’d grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into the office wall then. She’d had only seconds to process this before he’d been on her.
Their first kiss together wasn’t gentle. It was firm and questing and passionately interrogative. Her hands were pinned between their bodies, pushing hard in a struggle for freedom, but no match against his strength.
He wanted to lick her lips so badly but knew she would take the opportunity to scream the moment their lips separated. He hauled her legs up by the knees and pressed his erection hard against her core. His hips jerked rapidly. He wanted to get closer to her heat. He wanted those panties out of the way. He wanted his robes gone and his cock inside of her. He wanted to ride her hard and too fast for her to stop him.
She’d be his then, he thought wildly. The laws of their kind allowed no sexual encounters outside the bond of marriage for fear of illegitimate children in a time desperate for legitimacy. They would be married in the eyes of all wizards and witches alike if he took her now.
He wanted that, he thought with a growl and licking her ear. He wanted her like this for him every night. For him alone.
He pulled her hair back, startling a cry out of her. He used his weight to pin her pelvis to the wall and ripped the buttons off of her shirt with his newly freed hand. Her pert breasts were exposed. He pushed the bra out of his way and latched on to the dusky nipple hungrily. She tried to scream, kicking her legs out, but he covered her mouth once more in a hard kiss. She tried to bit him. He pulled her hair back hard. “Be still,” he hissed.
“Let me go!” she demanded, albeit softly, obviously avoiding another painful tug. She looked confused but angry at the same time.
“Why should I?” he asked with disdain.
The unexpectedness of the situation left her at a loss. Still she struggled to regain control of her legendary mind. Her reason. “I don’t have to explain anything to you!” she spat, recovering a measure of that infamous courage millions hailed. “I said no, and I meant it!” Her chest was heaving. Those full lips he had admired for so many years were red and puffy from his kisses. She clawed frantically at his hands in a vain attempt to break his grip, leaving white scratches on already pale skin.
He subdued her with humiliating ease, using his considerable height and weight against her petite form. Her hands were now trapped in his, pressed into the wall at her hips. He leaned in to breath in the scent of her, chuckling just a bit when she ducked her head to avoid a kiss.
It didn’t matter; she had inadvertently left the skin of her neck exposed. The delicious sight tempted him beyond his limits. His tongue darted out and licked the lobe so quickly she didn’t have time to gasp. He attacked the base of her throat in the next moment. He latched on to the tender flesh and sucked voraciously.
She bucked. Her warm heat seared him through their clothes. His cock hardened all the more and he found himself moaning deeply in his throat as he continued his assault. Gods, he was hungry for her! He had waited so long for this moment…even as he’d hated her, tormented her, he had awakened countless nights from dreams so erotic that he had spilled his seed all over the pristine silk sheets.
He wanted to mark her. He wanted the world to see who she belonged to. He wanted her to feel the claim even without seeing it. Tonight he was going to take her virginity and no one, not even she, would be able to take her from him. “Stop it!” she wailed.
Instincts unique to women were beginning to overwhelm her. He could feel her sudden super awareness of her body and his proximity to it. Had he been looking in her eyes, he knew he would have seen the dilated iris, felt the tightening in her core. Her body was screaming a distinctly feminine alarm, warning her that immediate escape was more imperative than ever before.
She would fight until the very end, that was for certain. Yet he knew deep in his tarnished soul that he would win. His obsession would allow nothing less, regardless of her protests. This was the way it had to be, and the sooner she learned that the better, he thought stonily.
He released her neck. He spared himself no time to watch the mark darken but bore her to the floor. The luxurious carpet cushioned her back while he pressed himself ardently onto her body.
Did the ‘why nots’ really matter to him if he got what or who he wanted?
Never.
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