Title: An Unconventional Moment
Chapter Title: This is the End...
Author: celisnebula
Character(s)/Pairing: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, (possible) Dubious Consent, Anal
Rating: NC-17
I take one last look around my room, trying to gauge if I have missed anything. No. Not my room—at least not any longer. Strange. It wasn’t mine any longer. I sag against the door-frame, panic and remorse snaking up my spine. This room had been my home—my refuge—for the last few years, and now there was nothing left of me in it. It was a surreal feeling.
Letting out a soft sigh, I shifted; it was time. Time to let go. Time to move on. I suppose anyone would feel this way; change isn’t easy to accept, even when it’s supposed to be good for you.
I straightened my spine. No use quibbling over something that I knew was going to happen; something I had, in fact, orchestrated. I couldn’t stay here; not anymore. I had made the decision to leave months ago, eager to start somewhere fresh. Somewhere I didn’t have to face heartbreak every morning as I drank my morning tea.
Still feelings of trepidation swamped me. I could feel the icy claws of fleeting panic dig themselves into my brain as I slowly left the one place I’d lived for nearly half my life. The door closed with a firm snick.
With the exception of my heels clicking down the hall, it is eerily quiet. Term had ended just a few days ago, so the castle seems… bereft of life. Apropos in some ways.
I’d said goodbye to everyone who mattered—or at least those who I knew cared—the rest could bugger themselves.
Yet I couldn't help but feel desolate as I walked down the long stretch towards the Great Hall.
“Where are you going?” His voice a harsh whisper that came from nowhere.
I froze at the sound of his voice. I hadn't heard him approach, but then that was why he was so bloody good at patrols; no one ever heard him. Without turning around, I pretend a nonchalance that I don’t feel.
“I asked you where you are going,” he growls.
My chin takes on a stubborn tilt. “I don’t believe it’s any of your business,” I reply coolly.
I hear his robes swish behind me; the handle of my rolling chest bites into the palm of my hand as I clench it tightly.
“Really?” he hisses. The words caused the hairs on the nape of my neck to stand up.
I give him a scornful look over my shoulder. “Really.”
I barely have time to gasp as he pushes me up against the wall. I can feel the handle of the rolling chest slip from my fingers as my grip loosens in a reflexive gesture. I quickly bring both hands up to protect myself from running face-first into the stone wall. The cool granite scrapes against my palms as I try to push myself up and away from the wall, but he is an unmovable force behind me.
“I beg to differ,” he purrs against my ear. “It is very much my business.”
I squirm against him, kicking backwards in the hopes that I can loosen his hold on me. Unfortunately, it only allows him to move in closer. I can feel every inch of him against my back as he presses me against the wall.
“Let me go, Severus,” I demand in a low voice.
“I think not,” he rasps, the breath of his words brushing against the nape of my neck. He slowly grinds his erection into my cloak-covered arse. “In fact, I find you quite fetching this way.”
“And here I thought your affections for me had waned,” I snap, squirming to break his hold. “You’ve shown your distinct lack of interest in me quite well these last four months.”
“Perhaps I merely needed a reminder.”
“Well, it’s too late for that,” I say in a vicious tone.
“That is a matter of opinion, Granger.” He places a hand on either side of my head and moves in closer. I close my eyes and try to ignore his arousing scent—a mixture of man and potions ingredients. “In fact,” he continues, “one could feasibly say that the situation is entirely in my control.”
I twist in his arms, surprised he allowed that much movement, forcing myself to face him. “I’m leaving, Severus.” My voice is low, barely above a whisper. “I’m leaving and that’s the end of it,” I continue a bit louder.
He lifts my chin with his long, tapered fingers forcing me to look up—I’m caught by his penetrating stare. “Ah, but you are quite wrong.” He presses his body closer to me; I can feel my heart beating savagely within my chest. “See, there is a little matter of… legalities… as it were.”
“Legalities?” I splutter as my mind races, trying to figure out what he means. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you really think I’d let you go, given the crime that has been perpetuated against me?”
“Crime? What crime?”
“Yes, crime. One that could potentially send you to Azkaban for a few years, not to mention cost you that new, shiny job you’ve recently acquired—oh, and of course all the ramifications that come with being a known felon and procurer of illegal potions.”
“What on earth are you talking about, Severus?”
“Did you really think you had gotten away with it? Polyjuice is a regulated potion for a reason, Granger, and you just had to play around with it.” He pulled back enough so I could see the smirk on his face, and I wanted to smack it off. “I’m sure the members of the Wizengamot High Court would love to hear all the sordid little details of how you stole parts of my essence to indulge in your illicit, carnal cravings. I’m sure the man you hired would be more than willing to tell his tale to the court; he had no qualms about telling me every little detail of what went on between the two of you.”
“I – I…” I could only stutter an incomplete sentence. I had known he’d discovered what I was about, but I hadn’t really thought about what it meant.
He places his index finger against my mouth, effectively stopping whatever it was I was going to stay. “I’m not, however, an unreasonable man,” he continues, as if I hadn’t interrupted. “I am more than willing to eschew all of that for…" He let the sentence trail off.
"But that’s blackmail!” I gasp out.
“Is it?” he asks in a droll voice.
I narrow my eyes. "You know damn well that it is."
"I could hardly make any demands of you that you haven’t already given freely. I'm merely”—he looks me up and down—“showing you how the continuation of such an arrangement is to both of our benefits."
I look up at the ceiling, the back of my head resting against the cool stone of the corridor and take a deep, cleansing breath. "I can't," I say softly. I lower my head and look him right in the eyes. "I can't do it."
His mouth thins into a harsh sneer. His fingers grip my upper arms with a bruising force that normally would have me wincing in pain, but I refuse to be cowed.
"Don't bloody lie to me," he snarls, pressing his face close to mine. His left hand releases the grip on my upper arm, and I feel the cool air of the castle brushing against my ankles as he starts to pull the material of my robes up. "You forget, I know you," he hisses. He presses his body against mine as he releases my other arm. His right hand snakes down between us, his fingers delving into the exposed juncture between my thighs. "You're wet for me now."
He moves his head down, his lips right against my left earlobe.
"I could fuck you right now—have you screaming my name,” he says, his clever fingers stroking me, “just to prove to you just how much you can.
"I'd bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he asks, pressing his fingers up and into me just before he bites my earlobe.
I suck in a quick breath, trying to calm my body down. I can't deny that he arouses me—he has always aroused me, even when he didn't know I existed as an adult woman with needs. But I am better than this. Aren't I?
"Gods," he groans against my throat. "You are so bloody wet." He shifts his body, wedging a leg between my knees. I could feel his erection pressing against my stomach.
He starts to undo the front buttons of my robe; I know I should protest, tell him again that I can't, or rather won't, but I can't seem to make myself say the words again. His pale hands push at the material of my robes, freeing my breasts; those clever fingertips tease my nipples to aching points.
"Shall I?" he asks in a taunting voice.
I take a deep breath and force myself not to answer; especially since I don't know what I'm prone to say at this stage.
His teeth scrape against the nape of my neck. "Shall I?" he asks again. "Tell me, Hermione… Shall I fuck you against this wall?" He bites down on my neck right below my earlobe, and I moan softly. His hands unbutton his fly, and his cock is hard and hot against my flesh.
My body aches for his touch. His fingers torment me, and I writhe, eagerly seeking the stimulation he holds just out of reach. My hips surge against his fingertips, and his slowly thrusts a finger into me.
"Severus," I moan again. Every one of my limbs shakes with need. I can feel a bead of sweat slide down the side of my face. The exquisite tension climbs higher and higher as he slowly finger fucks me against the wall.
I bite my lower lip trying to hold back a frustrated scream as he pinches my clit with his thumb and forefinger.
"Tell me, Hermione," his dark voice whispers against my ear. In and out, those lovely fingers stroke my silken flesh, teasing me to the brink but giving me no relief. "Shall I fuck you?"
"Please," I beg in a harsh whimper.
With no further preliminaries, he thrusts hard and straight inside me. My breath catches in my throat. He feels glorious. My back presses against the wall as he establishes a demanding, pounding rhythm. I can feel myself clamping around him with each aggressive thrust.
My hips arch against him with each stroke, the pleasure of him inside of me is nearly unbearable. But I can't deny that I want this... that I want him.
I close my eyes and feel his mouth on my breast. He sucks my nipple deep into his mouth, gently biting at it, and then stroking away the sting of his teeth with his tongue.
My fingers dig into his shoulders as I clutch at him, trying to press my body closer. His hips jerk and arch, sending him impossibly deep into me.
His mouth moves up to mine, it is a bruising, forceful kiss. His fingers dig into my hips as his thrusts become erratic.
"Severus," I hiss. I can feel the rippling onslaught of an orgasm happening. His breath rattles in his throat as I tighten my muscles around his cock. His body starts trembling as his own orgasm threatens to overtake him.
I try to speak, but my throat clenched too tightly to allow any words. All I can manage is a strange, broken whimper as I come all over him.
I'm ashamed of myself. Ashamed of how easily I capitulate to him. It's all gone sideways. I want desperately to say that how he makes me feel when we're connected like this is enough, but I know now it isn't. I lied to myself the first time I stole his hair to do this, and I lied to myself continuously when he discovered my perfidy—there was no way he'd ever truly succumb to what I feel. How could he?
I pause, swallowing down the welling grief that is poised to overwhelm me again. It is pointless. He wouldn't... or rather couldn't understand. Severus only saw the immediate—me leaving him—and not in terms of emotion, but in terms of me depriving him. I've battled with this for the last few months.
When I originally started this whole perverse episode, I thought I could handle any and all repercussions. How foolish I had been.
I remember an old adage my mum used to say: Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.
And I had obtained the full measure—every glorious bit of it—and it had shattered me.
All that was left was for me to sweep up those tattered pieces and start anew.
I raised a hand to cup his cheek, pretending not to notice the way he slightly flinched as my palm connected to his flesh; even after all these years, kindness was not something he expected from anyone.
He focuses his whole attention on me—those dark, piercing eyes almost rob me of speech, but I am determined.
"I love you," I say softly. He tries to draw back, but I don't let him.
"I love you," I repeat. "But I can't do this anymore." His lips curl into a sneer, but I forestall whatever he was going to say by placing a finger against his lips. "I know you don't love me, and I know you don't believe that I love you, but I do, and this whole situation just hurts too much for me to continue any longer."
He pushes from me with a harsh exhalation. I pull my clothing around me then button them slowly.
“I have to go,” I say in a shaky voice.
Severus shoots me a searching glance, as if gauging whether I am earnest or not.
He finally speaks in a cold, stiff manner, forcing the words out between clenched teeth. “I’m not finished with you yet, Hermione.”
Authors' Notes:
I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read this rather long, drawn out piece that wasn’t supposed to go beyond the first chapter; I can’t believe it took so bloody long to finish. I am eternally grateful to those readers who started reading this when I released the first chapter (back in 2005) and have continued to come back, even though I didn’t update more often..
I especially want to thank Betz for coming up with the Gigolo challenge on WIKTT, even though this really didn’t answer that challenge properly. That challenge is what spurred this whole idea.
I would also like to thank DeeMichele for agreeing to Beta this; any and all errors or problems are all mine-she had a hell of a job just making this readable.
When I originally started, and stopped, and started again on this chapter, I figured it would be the sad, but genuine conclusion to this. But.. who knows. Maybe it isn’t.
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