Hug or a kiss? Hug, please. – Part A
A/N: I nicked the 'perform fellatio and sodomy' part from Silence of the Lambs, which I watched recently – 'Hannibal' pales in comparison to it – great film, loved Dr. Lecter.
Plant a review if you liked or hated it – I enjoy dissecting flames and using constructive criticism.
A humongous 't'ank you very much' to the guys who reviewed my first chapter(
Disclaimer: J.K.Rowing has more imagination than all of the adults in my world put together and these are her characters. Her world, though, is amazing nd the chapter you read is what comes of my stroll through it.
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Snape's Point of View
Snape stared at the heavy oaken door Hermione had just escaped through. His hand brushed the air, just where her cheek would have been, had she been standing in front of him as she had a minute ago.
He drew his hand to his face and opened it, looking straight into the palm. Svelte noir eyes ran over the ridged calluses, noting the shiny acid burn down the side and the overall roughness of the large palm.
He turned it over and surveyed the front, grimacing at the over-large knuckles. With his left hand, he traced the point of a knuckle right up to the nail, cut carefully so none of the non-aesthetically pleasing potion ingredients would deign to remain under them. He raised his hand to the hooked nose he had broken as a child and breathed in deeply. Clean tang of soap – the harsh detergent that solely could take away the odours and stain of the various substances he came into contact with. Pulling his right hand away from his face he glared at it. Hands of a potion-maker. Hands that had touched and soothed the now-absent, broken girl opposite him. A sardonic smile cracked his face, that grew wider as he realised that was twice that a grin had tugged at his lips in one day. Strange what one lonely girl could change after spending just twenty minutes under his care. Under his care, what a laugh. Ha ha.
Walking back to his desk, he started to neaten the straggly pile of examination papers on the surface. He sank into the oddly comfortable (tired in your old age, Severus?) chair behind the desk, rested his elbows on the arm-rests, steepled his fingers and began to contemplate the last twenty five minutes. Such a deviation from his normal, prime-evil thoughts after a class with Harry Potter in it.
His thoughts came to rest on his last words to Hermione. Did I really just say I'd belt her? Merlin's teeth, I can't even keep my tendencies of domination to myself. Not to say I didn't mean it, of course. Bowing his head forward and bringing his chin to rest on his hands, he closed his eyes and sighed. A deep one, straight from his black heart. Well, it's a sight better than what Father did to me…
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Hermione's Point of View
Hermione shook her head from side to side in sheer amazement as she shut the Potions classroom door. Who would've thought, Professor Severus Snape, the true picture of Salazar Slytherin himself, had a heart? Of course, she reminded herself, that was a picture that had been enthusiastically painted by her friends – all true Gyffindors and eager to wage war with the Slytherin house. Damn, didn't anyone know how hard it was to find the truth?
She began to walk slowly towards the end of the corridor that would take her to stairs, which led up to the Great Hall. From which she'd head straight up to the Hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey, at Professor Snape's orders.
She let loose a nervous giggle at the thought of Snape's parting words – dear Merlin, he wouldn't do *that* to her, would he? There was only one way to find out, and hell would freeze over before she would test the strength of his hand. A slight shiver shook her lithe frame at the thought – no way would she let that happen. It was bad enough, when she arrived home for the holidays – her Dad thought she had too much of a free rein at school and promptly got her manners in order to suit him. But at school? Hell, no.
Realising that she'd spent a huge amount of her free time in the hallway, she quickened her stride and had almost reached the wide, stone stairway when something stopped her. A hand.
A very large hand, in fact.
That was soon joined by another which slammed her into the wall nearest to her. Hermione gasped in shock as she felt the hard wall slam into her back with a resounding impact. Whack…
Her head began to spin and she saw stars, falling into pain-filled bottomless well, almost reaching the still water…then her eyes snapped back into focus and she collected herself enough to see who was leering into her.
Blond hair, ice-cold grey eyes full of sadistic pleasure. Draco Malfoy, who else? And his goons, one on either side. Great.
Malfoy put his hand on her mouth, stifling her protests and watched her eyes widen in terror. 'Look boys, it's Granger, best student in the school, Potty boy's Mudblood-lover and now, Snape's whore. See – look at her all flushed, Snape's been having his evil way her. Hold her for me.'
Crabbe and Goyle gave a grunt in unison and pushed their weight into her sides. Goyle placed his foul hand where Malfoy's cool, soft one had been. Seeing that trying to muscle her way out this, would only get her more bruises, she lay still and eyed Malfoy coolly and raised her chin in defiance. He only looked mildly surprised.
'Ah, that's right, Granger – you're a true Gryffindor – never one to run in the onslaught of danger. Tell me, slut, are the rumours correct? Did you honestly fail one of your final exams, and are you on the verge of breaking down?' He ran his tongue over his lips and watched her face redden in anger.
'So it is true, then? Dear old Snape must have been patting you on the back and whispering in your delectable ears, that everything was going to be all right. Or did he ask you to do something else?'
When light dawned, and Hermione understood what Malfoy was insinuating, she finally began to struggle, trying not to think of the picture that had been planted in her mind. Malfoy, however, was having none of it. 'Hold her tighter, boys.'
'Is baby Hermione not mature enough to cotton on to my meaning? I want to know more, Granger. Did he ask you to perform fellatio? Or, perhaps he sodomized you? Does he have a nice, big prick, Granger?' He laughed wickedly as he saw the tears spring into her eyes at his cruel words. He gave another low chuckle as he ran a finger down the side of her face. 'Just a little warning, dearest Hermione, of what might happen , should you be so foolish as to promenade the hallways alone again. Let's go, boys.'
And with that, the two hefty sidekicks grunted and let go of her aching shoulder and Goyle took his hand off her mouth. She couldn't speak.
A/N: I nicked the 'perform fellatio and sodomy' part from Silence of the Lambs, which I watched recently – 'Hannibal' pales in comparison to it – great film, loved Dr. Lecter.
Plant a review if you liked or hated it – I enjoy dissecting flames and using constructive criticism.
A humongous 't'ank you very much' to the guys who reviewed my first chapter(
Disclaimer: J.K.Rowing has more imagination than all of the adults in my world put together and these are her characters. Her world, though, is amazing nd the chapter you read is what comes of my stroll through it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Snape's Point of View
Snape stared at the heavy oaken door Hermione had just escaped through. His hand brushed the air, just where her cheek would have been, had she been standing in front of him as she had a minute ago.
He drew his hand to his face and opened it, looking straight into the palm. Svelte noir eyes ran over the ridged calluses, noting the shiny acid burn down the side and the overall roughness of the large palm.
He turned it over and surveyed the front, grimacing at the over-large knuckles. With his left hand, he traced the point of a knuckle right up to the nail, cut carefully so none of the non-aesthetically pleasing potion ingredients would deign to remain under them. He raised his hand to the hooked nose he had broken as a child and breathed in deeply. Clean tang of soap – the harsh detergent that solely could take away the odours and stain of the various substances he came into contact with. Pulling his right hand away from his face he glared at it. Hands of a potion-maker. Hands that had touched and soothed the now-absent, broken girl opposite him. A sardonic smile cracked his face, that grew wider as he realised that was twice that a grin had tugged at his lips in one day. Strange what one lonely girl could change after spending just twenty minutes under his care. Under his care, what a laugh. Ha ha.
Walking back to his desk, he started to neaten the straggly pile of examination papers on the surface. He sank into the oddly comfortable (tired in your old age, Severus?) chair behind the desk, rested his elbows on the arm-rests, steepled his fingers and began to contemplate the last twenty five minutes. Such a deviation from his normal, prime-evil thoughts after a class with Harry Potter in it.
His thoughts came to rest on his last words to Hermione. Did I really just say I'd belt her? Merlin's teeth, I can't even keep my tendencies of domination to myself. Not to say I didn't mean it, of course. Bowing his head forward and bringing his chin to rest on his hands, he closed his eyes and sighed. A deep one, straight from his black heart. Well, it's a sight better than what Father did to me…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione's Point of View
Hermione shook her head from side to side in sheer amazement as she shut the Potions classroom door. Who would've thought, Professor Severus Snape, the true picture of Salazar Slytherin himself, had a heart? Of course, she reminded herself, that was a picture that had been enthusiastically painted by her friends – all true Gyffindors and eager to wage war with the Slytherin house. Damn, didn't anyone know how hard it was to find the truth?
She began to walk slowly towards the end of the corridor that would take her to stairs, which led up to the Great Hall. From which she'd head straight up to the Hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey, at Professor Snape's orders.
She let loose a nervous giggle at the thought of Snape's parting words – dear Merlin, he wouldn't do *that* to her, would he? There was only one way to find out, and hell would freeze over before she would test the strength of his hand. A slight shiver shook her lithe frame at the thought – no way would she let that happen. It was bad enough, when she arrived home for the holidays – her Dad thought she had too much of a free rein at school and promptly got her manners in order to suit him. But at school? Hell, no.
Realising that she'd spent a huge amount of her free time in the hallway, she quickened her stride and had almost reached the wide, stone stairway when something stopped her. A hand.
A very large hand, in fact.
That was soon joined by another which slammed her into the wall nearest to her. Hermione gasped in shock as she felt the hard wall slam into her back with a resounding impact. Whack…
Her head began to spin and she saw stars, falling into pain-filled bottomless well, almost reaching the still water…then her eyes snapped back into focus and she collected herself enough to see who was leering into her.
Blond hair, ice-cold grey eyes full of sadistic pleasure. Draco Malfoy, who else? And his goons, one on either side. Great.
Malfoy put his hand on her mouth, stifling her protests and watched her eyes widen in terror. 'Look boys, it's Granger, best student in the school, Potty boy's Mudblood-lover and now, Snape's whore. See – look at her all flushed, Snape's been having his evil way her. Hold her for me.'
Crabbe and Goyle gave a grunt in unison and pushed their weight into her sides. Goyle placed his foul hand where Malfoy's cool, soft one had been. Seeing that trying to muscle her way out this, would only get her more bruises, she lay still and eyed Malfoy coolly and raised her chin in defiance. He only looked mildly surprised.
'Ah, that's right, Granger – you're a true Gryffindor – never one to run in the onslaught of danger. Tell me, slut, are the rumours correct? Did you honestly fail one of your final exams, and are you on the verge of breaking down?' He ran his tongue over his lips and watched her face redden in anger.
'So it is true, then? Dear old Snape must have been patting you on the back and whispering in your delectable ears, that everything was going to be all right. Or did he ask you to do something else?'
When light dawned, and Hermione understood what Malfoy was insinuating, she finally began to struggle, trying not to think of the picture that had been planted in her mind. Malfoy, however, was having none of it. 'Hold her tighter, boys.'
'Is baby Hermione not mature enough to cotton on to my meaning? I want to know more, Granger. Did he ask you to perform fellatio? Or, perhaps he sodomized you? Does he have a nice, big prick, Granger?' He laughed wickedly as he saw the tears spring into her eyes at his cruel words. He gave another low chuckle as he ran a finger down the side of her face. 'Just a little warning, dearest Hermione, of what might happen , should you be so foolish as to promenade the hallways alone again. Let's go, boys.'
And with that, the two hefty sidekicks grunted and let go of her aching shoulder and Goyle took his hand off her mouth. She couldn't speak.