Does love require sacrifice?
-One Shot-
A/N: Decided to whip this one-shot together. I hope you all like it. I was heading in a totally different direction with another title and my 8-year-old son in all his wisdom asked me if love requires sacrifice and the story pretty much wrote itself after that.
-Aliasmel1
The cold winter wind howled between the trees hitting her like a thousand icy piranhas biting at her soft, white flesh. Shuddering she pulled the thick woollen cloak tighter around her slender frame, wand drawn with the tip lit, lighting the path she needed to take.
The nights during winter were bitterly cold and extremely dark. The faint light from her wand barely enough to light the way. The moon sat high in the sky looking down on her.
She easily traced the path she took every Saturday for the past two years. She was on autopilot and didn't need to think; she just did.
Her feet struck the cold cobblestone she was walking in a rhythmic lull until she reached the front door of the castle.
Her long slender fingers reached out to push open the heavy wooden door; it creaked under its own weight as she pushed it open revealing the place she would always love; Hogwarts.
Loosening the grip on her cloak as she walked in she pushed the hood off of her head. Her hair shimmered softly in the glow from the lamps lining the walls. Hurriedly her feet traced the well-worn path she knew so well, to the dungeons. She needed to see him. Every week she would come and fuck him, a vow she would never do it again and leave only to show up the next Saturday knocking on his door needing to feel his warmth against her skin, the need to kiss his lips and to fill her insatiable hunger that only he could do.
She knew morally it was wrong but her moral compass wasn't exactly calibrated correctly anyway. She loved her husband but there was just something he couldn't give her. She would regretfully admit she was addicted to him, addicted to the dour old Potions Master who may or may not have made her life a misery while she was under his tutelage that she managed to overlook easily and move on from.
She loved her husband fiercely but she loved fucking the sullen old git more. She would often find herself dreaming about merging the two men together to make her the perfect man. He was much too short-tempered and sarcastic for her to deal with on a daily basis and in a relationship. They both had a mutual understanding it was nothing more than sex, even though he would try to guilt her into leaving her husband. Every. Single. Time.
Maybe she did have feelings for him but she couldn't let it be known. She guessed after a few years of sex, feelings changed and twisted and re-shaped themselves and before you knew it your heart was wanting the man you said you never really actually wanted because of stupid, trivial reasons like 'he was too sarcastic' and you think maybe, just maybe you could live with him and you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with them.
She had thought about it, but she couldn't do that to her son. She couldn't bear to break up her family and share the child between her and her husband, he didn't deserve that, he was a good husband and a great father, despite some flaws she really did love him but there was just something he couldn't give her, and hot, wild sex that made her teeth chatter and her knee's buckle was one of them. It was an addiction that she had to fill, nothing more and nothing less... Is what she told herself every day in a hope that she would start to believe it.
She really was unsure if he knew, if he knew she ran off every Saturday to ride his Godfather's cock, surely he would have said something?
She made it to his door, sucking in a shuddery breath she reached out to push the door open to his classroom but it opened on its own. He knew she was here. She was always there at the same time on the same day of the week.
She stepped in; he looked up from his desk. He was waiting. He had his long black trousers on, his white button shirt hung open, whiskey bottle in his hand, and cheeks flushed red, ink black hair hanging like a curtain around his face. She cocked her head to the side as music filled her ears. She spied a small radio on his desk; at a guess, she assumed it was a muggle as the day was long enchanted to work within the walls of the castle. The music was soft and slow.
The corners of his lips twitched and formed a smirk as he brought the bottle of Ogden's finest to his lips as he looked at her curiously. She was wrapped tightly in her husbands Death Eater cloak, clinging tightly to her slender frame. Her hair cascaded down her back in tight ringlets and he couldn't help but noticed her eyes showed mixed emotions, excitement, need and dread. She always looked like that.
He knew that deep down after she was finished with him, she hated herself. She hated what she had done and she hated him for allowing it, but here she was again.
His cock stiffened a touch at the sight of her. She would have made an amazing Death Eater he thought to himself; the things he could have done to her. He could have corrupted her to love the dark magic and to pillage and plunder and murder just as he had and then as they were high on the kill, they would have fucked like that had never fucked before.
"I see you are back again after once again swearing off coming ever again." He pressed the bottle to his lips once more. He didn't mind fucking her, he really didn't but it broke him when she upped and left afterwards. You could say he had grown quite fond of the little bitch after all of these years.
He told her he knew it was sex only but he had a deep-seated desire to have her as his own, not to share with his Godson. God knows the annoying little shit of man didn't deserve someone as brilliant and beautiful as the wife he had. Sometimes life dealt all the good hands to others and never to himself and he loathed it.
She raised a single brow as she looked at him. She had never seen him this worn down and dishevelled and a sense of guilt panged within her…She knew it was because of her, it was always because of her.
"I can't keep doing this you know you wretched woman. Not only are you dragging the sanctity of marriage through the dirt, I am tainting the sanctity of trust between Godfather and Godson," he snapped as he got to his feet and strode over to her in three quick steps.
Whiskey in on hand he grabbed her chin with his free hand and forced her to look at him. He looked tired and he looked worn, he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked like he wanted to murder someone.
His eyes filled with a mix of lust and hate as he leant down and captured her lips with his own. Her eyes closed as she melted against him and moaned. He tasted like whiskey and he smelt intoxicating. She missed this and she missed him.
This was the moment she hated, the moment she forgot all about her husband and the moment she began to doubt her marriage to him, this was the time that she could almost be persuaded to leave him without a backwards glance.
She pulled breathless from the kiss shaking with euphoria, she needed him desperately and she needed him now. He released his grip on her chin and she took a step back, obsidian eyes meeting warm chocolate ones, neither wanting to make the next move but both desperate for the feel of one another's skin against their own.
Without a second thought, she released the clasp to the heavy woollen robes she was wearing and dropped them off of her shoulders, the material falling to the floor silently pooling around her feet, her petite naked form free for his scrutinizing gaze.
He let out a small chuckle. "My, my, someone wants to get straight to the point tonight don't they, you wretched woman," He purred as he drank in the sight before him, he knew her body well, he knew every curve and every bump and every little scar, he knew where to touch her to turn her on and where to touch her to make her moan. Her almost flawless skin was just begging for his tongue to explore every inch, for him to nip and to lick.
He took another large swig of whiskey before carelessly dropping the bottle to the ground with a clatter, right now he didn't care, he would get to that later.
Without even a second thought she launched her naked frame into his arms like a proverbial moth drawn to a flame, he grabbed her and pulled her close to him, he needed her as much as she needed him. She wrapped her slim legs around his waist and assaulted his lips hungrily running her tongue along his bottom lip he slightly parted his lips allowing her tongue to slip in and intertwine with his as they danced and twisted together in a fury of want, need and desire.
He groaned against her lips, he hated this so much but at the same time, it kept him going. It gave him something to look forward too, a sort of sense of purpose in life. He liked having control over something after decades of being at the hands of the maleficent puppeteer they had all come to loathe.
He carried her to the wall and pressed her back hard into it, the wall cold on her skin she let out a surprised shudder as she pushed the shirt off of his shoulders, he let go of her one arm at a time and threw the shirt to the ground in a careless pile.
They broke the kiss, she ran her hands over his shoulders with a feather-light touch, he leant into the touch and closed his eyes as he pinned her hands above her head to the wall with one hand and held her tight with the other.
Each look into her eyes he was falling a little more and more in love. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't be the second option used only when she needed him. His heart wouldn't allow this any longer.
His cock throbbed in its cloth prison like it did for her all of the time she wanted to use him for a release, for the sex that made her shake and moan and scream his name and dig her nails into his back as she came.
He peppered her neck with hot kisses, tilting her head to the side she allowed him a better access to continue his hot assault on her soft flesh, her breath became shallow, biting her bottom lip in ecstasy. Kisses turned into nips and shallow breath became moans as he captures her lips once more. He kept her pinned to the wall with one arm while frantically freeing the fastenings and sliding his pants and underwear to the floor in a pool around his ankles.
He couldn't wait to sink into her hot, wet hole and reach his release. He grew tired of being tender and loving with her when it was clear his feelings were never going to be reciprocated, he had tried many a time to be romantic and make it all about her but the desire to do so had left him with a sour taste in his mouth. Right now, he didn't care.
Grabbing the base of his cock with one hand while still holding her tightly against the wall, he seated himself within her velvet walls and a small groan escaped him. It was almost like she was made for him, he was a perfect fit within her if only he could call her his own witch he could die a happy man.
She threw her head back as he entered and dug her nails into his back over and over, crescent indentations drawing blood leaving him with bloody crescent indentations. He didn't mind when she did that, it reminded him he was human and he could still feel. Granted his whole back was littered with tiny little scars born from her nails on his flesh, a constant reminded her couldn't have what his heart truly desired.
He thrust in and out of her hard knocking the wind out of her with every stroke as he cupped her ass with one arm and held her around the waist with the other. He would occasionally look down to see himself sliding in and out of her tight hot cunt covered in her slick, thick, white arousal. The music still played soft and slow in the background as she squeezed her legs around his waist in a vice-like grip as he thrust hard and deeper inside of her.
She threw her head back and he assaulted her neck once more with hot clumsy kisses as he was reaching his climax. Her body began to shake and she began to moan softly, her breath stuck as her orgasm washed over her, her velvet walls pressing against his thick cock tipping him over the edge as he came deep within her.
The two of them stayed like that quivering for a few minutes before he rested his head against her forehead and kissed her lips softly, dropping her back down to the ground with a soft thud on the stone floor.
She bent down and grabbed the cloak she had discarded in the heat of the moment and covered herself with it, throwing it around her shoulders and doing up the clasp, it really was the most impractical choice of body covering she could have chosen but the sentiment was there.
"Oh, and Hermione, make you sure you send my regards to Draco."
"Bite me," She snapped.
He redressed himself and stood in front of his desk lost in thought. He had never been this quiet afterwards before and it worried her. She walked to him and looked up into his eyes. He looked despondent and broken and she knew that this meant more to him than sex, she could see it in his eyes he had all be resigned to the fact that he was never getting the girl he was never getting his witch. The one he was head over heels in love with and was for the past few years, the one he had regretted all of the harsh words that ever fell from his lips towards her, the taunts and the jabs he made towards. He regretted not telling her earlier how he felt.
A silent tear slid down his cheek and she knew this was it. She knew she would never be able to come back and see him. His heart was too broken and battered to take any more of her shit.
She reached up to his face and wiped the stray tear away with her thumb.
"Does love require sacrifice?" He questioned simply before turning his back on her. What was that meant to mean? Why the fuck did he have to be so cryptic.
Hermione took that as her cue to leave and pulled her cloak around herself tighter and looked at the broken man she was leaving behind. Walking out of his classroom she gently shut the door with a soft click and began tracing the path back the way she came. Her mind was flooded with thoughts and emotions. She loved Draco but she felt her and Severus had something more, something that she couldn't pinpoint. They had chemistry, and chemistry was what you needed in a relationship. It was at the moment the realization crossed her mind, she was in love with Severus Snape. Head over heels, butterfly's in your stomach, fuzzy thoughts, insanely happy in love with the greasy git.
And at the moment, she knew exactly what he meant, "Does love require sacrifice?" It was so simple. If she wanted to be truly happy and truly be with the one she loved, she had to sacrifice her marriage to Draco, a small sacrifice for an eternity of happiness.
She was halfway out of the castle when she turned on her heel and ran back to him as fast as she could, doe eyes wide at her sudden epiphany. She sprinted as if her life depended on it and once she reached his door she flung it open so hard it splintered when it hit the wall behind it. He was sitting on the edge of his desk, jumping a foot in the air as she broke his door showing such disrespect for school property. He didn't have time to brace himself as she leapt into his arms and pushed him back with such force he landed with a thud on the desk underneath her.
He looked quite perplexed as to why she was back and why she had just crash-tackled him to the desk. She looked deep into her and she knew, she knew that he was the one. All of a sudden Draco didn't matter, her marriage didn't matter. All that mattered was Severus and her love for him and the happiness deep inside her that he brought her.
"I love you, you greasy dungeon bat," She mused before pressing her lips hard to his.
His eyes grew wide as she assaulted his lips and he pulled back just enough to break their lips.
"Love does require sacrifice, Hermione."
"I know." She pressed her lips to his once more.
-The End