Chapter 4 – Cursed
Author: Rikka
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; I'm just playing with them for a short while. I'll give them back, with a knowing smile on their faces, once I've finished with them.
A/N: I think this is safely an 'R' from what people have told me. Chapter 5 will come later on today after I finish re-working it, and THAT is going to be a very "strong" 'R'. My 1st attempt at fanfic. Please let me know what you think!
In a flurry of robes and nerves they both quickly dressed, and before Hermione could say one word Snape muttered something under his breath, pointed his wand at the fireplace, gave her a quick hard kiss, and shoved her through...
...right into her bedroom, where Ron and Harry were sitting, waiting for her.
"Hermione! What the bloody hell?! Where are you coming from?" Ron exclaimed, standing up from the bed. Hermione looked at them in shock, her heart racing at the thought of being caught.
"Um, nowhere." At the look of utter disbelieve, and four eyebrows shooting straight for the ceiling, Hermione said quickly, "I had a quick meeting with Snape and he sent me back quickly so I could get back and start his reading."
"Snape? Did you a favor?" Ron said, looking at Harry confused.
"You must be wearing off on him with the amount of work you two have done lately," Harry said, thinking Hermione has got to be the worst liar at Hogwart's. What's really going on?
"Yes, that's right. Ah...Harry, could you leave Ron and I alone for a bit?" she asked her other friend with pleading eyes. Harry stood up, brushed off the front of his pants in an exaggerated gesture, and waltzed out with a wink at Hermione. She paused for a moment before continuing. "Ron, there is something we both need to get off our chests, I think, but first I just want to say that I know you didn't mean to insult me earlier..."
"Me, insult you? How??" Ron asked; his eyebrows rose crookedly to the ceiling in complete confusion. Patience, girl, Hermione steeled herself, and sat down cross-legged on the bed, patting the spot in front of her. Ron dutifully sat across from her, and she drew in a deep breath before continuing.
"I was insulted that you thought I needed you to 'rescue' me from Malfoy. I was insulted that you have no faith in me; that even after all we've been through together you don't think I can hold my own against that miserable prick. I was insulted, to tell the truth, that your 'defense' of me was a blatant battle of testosterone between you and Malfoy, and trust me when I say that I'm putting that as politely as possible. You really didn't need to; no, don't interrupt me please," she said as Ron opened his mouth to speak. Looking in his eyes, she continued. "You really didn't need to step in. I can handle Draco Malfoy just fine. What I can't handle is the thought that there is something between us, unspoken, which has the potentiality of ripping us apart as friends. Is there something you need to talk about with me, Ron?" Hermione put her hand on Ron's and gave it a squeeze of support. For a brief moment Hermione remembered other skin she had just been in closer contact with, but she pushed that out of her head quickly. One thing at a time, one thing at a time...
Ron stared down at her hand for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before answering. He thought of all what they'd been through together, of the time he made her cry and had to save her from the troll, and of the puppy dog eyes she had given him for almost three years. When did she stop? He mused, silently cursing himself for being so dense. Do I really want Hermione, or am I just upset at the thought that someone other than me could have her? Well you can't have your cake and eat it too, Weasley, so you better make up your mind...
"I just; I thought maybe; blast, I was just being selfish. Hermione, you're my best friend, you and Harry, and well...I guess I'm a bit possessive of you. It's like; I knew you first. And for some reason I thought, you'd be there, waiting, or something. I'm sorry I'm so daft. I don't want to ruin our friendship over me being utterly stupid and blind. I'm not sure how I feel towards you right now, other than as a friend, and it's not fair of me to ask anything of you if I'm not completely sorted out." He finished, staring down at her hand still.
"Ron, look at me." She said, bringing his face up with a finger beneath his chin. "You and Harry, you're my best friends. That's just it, though; it doesn't go any father than that, for either of you, and I wouldn't want it to. What we have isn't worth risking..."
"I understand," he said, standing up shakily. "Well, I should get going; potions exam tomorrow and I swore to Harry we would study together." With jerky movements he went towards the door, his hands twitching from the sudden adrenalin rush. Well, you got your answer at least, he thought, putting his hand on the doorknob and pausing. Why do I suddenly feel like pummeling someone into a bloody pulp?
"I love you, Hermione," he said, opening the door and pausing. "You're the best friend anyone could hope for. Don't ever let me make you think I feel differently."
Hermione waited for the door to completely close before she lay down on the bed, kicking off her shoes. "Why does everything always have to be so complicated?" she asked the ceiling. "What am I going to do?" she continued, her thoughts moving to Snape...Severus...and how delightful he felt against her.
She pulled her hand inside her robes, touching her collarbones, her nipples as he had done just an hour before. She remembered how her fingers tingled as they roamed over his body, how he made her entire being heat up with his touch. His warm skin full of soft angles and hard curves had imprinted on her mind, and a small, urgent voice within her was screaming for more. Testing herself, she rubbed around her nipples, slowly, making them harden, and then pinched herself as hard as she could. Ohgods...and she instantly felt blood and need pulsing between her thighs.
Her first small taste of him had left her wanting more, yet at the same time there were too many feelings and reactions shooting through her head and body adrenalin-fast, so that her rational brain hadn't caught up with her body yet. She wanted to pretend it was him touching her, wanted to make her skin light up as it had done under his touch, but her body was impatient. Her fingernails scratched skin as she snaked her hand down, underneath all her layers to the wetness between her thighs.
Quickly, roughly she began rubbing, harder and faster as intensity built up within her. Her thighs tensed up, her stomach muscles aching as she silently twisted flicked slapped rubbed herself, the need for pleasure overriding all other thoughts as she began sweating. Finally she shoved three fingers inside herself, leaving her thumb on her clit, rubbing and thrusting in uneven, desperate motions, riding her hand until she came. She sat up in bed with the strength of the orgasm, her knees bending and pelvic muscles contracting, shaking with an image of him behind her eyes she held herself up on waves of pleasure as long as she could, slowly letting down the intensity of her hand before falling back onto the bed, panting.
In his rooms, quite a few floors away, Severus Snape was having quite a similar experience with himself. Leaning against the doorframe to his bathroom he thought about her as he slipped his hand into his pants. In his head he saw her as she was a week before in his classroom, brows furrowed over some complex problem she was working on, only to look up to see him and flash a brilliant smile. The memory of her hair entwined in his fingers, her skin as it touched his body..."Ohh, Hermione," he said out loud as he came, sinking to his knees and hugging the doorframe as though it could offer him solace. You've cursed yourself, you know.