Hi there, this is another story I want to translate. My native language is not english, so please be kind.

Hope you enjoy!

The story of Harry Potter and the characters belong to J. K. Rowling.

The poem 'fear' belongs to houseghost who has written this wunderful story.

Translation: Provoked. Doomed. Irresistible.

Chapter 1

Always know, never forgive


My soul is dark, splintered my heart.
He did what he did.

A shame.
A secret, hardly known.

I'll always know, never forgive.
And he is still there, haunting me in my dreams.


Hermione heard footsteps and opened her eyes.
She still lay bleeding on the floor, just at the point where they had left her.
She wanted to die. But - ironically - she was alive.

The sound of boots on the cold, hard stone floor came closer and made her shudder. Full of pain she raised her head and looked around. Her heart beated faster as she recognized the outline of a black figure that rose out of the darkness.

The steps died away near her.
My God! If she only could have run away, not to mention disapparating. But she was too hurt to think clearly.
Her head was heavy, the eyelashes flickered under the load they had to carry. She was on the verge of fainting.
Not here, not now!

A disapproving growl sounded in her ear, and she recognized the emotionless face of her professor. Familiar, yet too unreal to be true.
Snape.
Was it her fault that she was here, shipped half naked for everyone who came along?

The rustle of his robes pulled her out of her thoughts. He had lost them and was going to put them over her body to cover it.
She let him and welcomed the warmth of the thick heavy fabric.
He still had not spoken. Hermione did the same.
For a moment there was absolute silence.
He looked at her, with those piercing black eyes that seemed to burn holes into her mind, without even saying a word. Motionless and still. Only his nostrils quivered.
He bent down to her, the face masked immediately from the long unkempt tresses, reaching for her hand. His skin was warm and rough, almost sensual - who would have thought?
She trembled and he pulled her up to him.
It was disturbing. It was all he did, embed her in his arms, just to disappear with her, into the shadows of darkness.

Time seemed to stand still as she lay in his arms and he took her away. From here to there, without leaving a trace.
She hid her face in the hollow of his shoulder and felt a sense of security, which allowed her for the first time to breathe free.
He pressed her to his chest, so that she could smell his fragrance, spicy and masculine.
So they went away, in the swirl of time, supported by his arbitrariness.
Finally, after a sheer eternity, they reached their destination.
Snape landed with both feet on the floor, inside a strange house and took her to a shabby sofa on which he placed her carefully.
As he was about to turn around, her nails dug into the black cloth of his coat that covered his arms.
He gave her an appraising look with his dark eyes, his brows drawn together firmly in the middle, so that a deep furrow was forming between them.
Hermione felt cold float in her and let her tears fall. All she wanted to feel was the closeness and warmth of her hated professor.

She had often done things she should not have done. And especially now, in this moment, in which everything was so strange and horrible, she felt the urge to act against all odds.
He jerked at his arm, wanted to pull away from her, but she did not let go, looked pleadingly at him, while salty tears run down her cheeks incessantly.
"If you do not stop, I am forced to use a calming spell, Miss Granger."
She swallowed.
In slow motion her cramped fingers broke away from him, still echoed by his bitter words inside her. A voice so deep and precise, that made her shudder.
He was an apparently lifeless and cruel man.
But he had saved her.