The young girl opened her heavy eyelids to find her mind
blurred. For a moment, she thought she was in the sanctuary of
her quarters and habitually patted around to find Crookshanks,
her usual bedmate. Instead, her hand landed on a large lump
highly resembling the body of her potions master. Instantly,
she snatched her hand back, afraid she had woken him, but was
reassured by the sound of deep breathing and a barely audible
snore. Hermione began to sit herself up with her hands. Despite
the fact that her cell consisted of his bed, the audacity of
Snape to sleep with his prisoner shocked her. Her mind lost
track when all of the sudden, her fingertips felt hard, cold
wood. Hermione's heart dropped, or exploded, she couldn't tell,
but her mind was racing. Could it possibly be what she thought
it was, would he really be ignorant, or arrogant, enough to
leave his wand underneath his pillow and easily accessible to
his prisoner? Either way, she didn't care. Carefully, trying to
move as little as possible, she inched the long wand out of his
pillow, taking brief moments to make sure she had not awoken
him. Satisfied that the man she had come to hate so much was
still asleep, she pulled the wand to her chest and closed her
eyes. Perhaps she made a fatal error the first time not knowing
the enormous amount of concentration involved in an
Unforgivable, especially when using someone else's wand, but
she would not make the same mistake twice. With both hands, she
steadied herself, fully prepared to kill the bastard who had
kept her hostage and taken away her innocence in more ways than
one. With all her anger bottled up inside her chest, she aimed
the wand at the man and inhaled deeply prepared to cast the
Avada Kedavra, but at the last moment, she saw him roll over
and his eyes lock with hers. For the first time, his façade
flinched; she saw a long slinder hand reach out and grab for
the wand, but it was too late.
"Avada-"she hesitated for the briefest of moments, "Imperio!" despite her anger, she couldn't kill him in cold blood. A green light flew from the tip of the wand with such force that it threw Hermione against the invisible wall. Hermione looked up to find the hand still outstretched in a last attempt to save his life that Hermione was weak enough to spare.
"Sit up!" she ordered. Immediately, the long lean body belonging to her Professor sat up stiffly the covers falling off revealing a white upper torso. A small grin appeared across her face. He was under her control now.
"Tell me how to take off the charms. Now!" she screamed, still afraid that he might come out of the spell at any moment.
To her amazement, he calmly began telling her the spells to take off the wards to the bed in a nonchalant voice. She was impressed at the extent he went to keep her in her cell. The tricky combination of a huge amount of spells took her a while to get out of the cell.
Once her feet touched the stone laid ground, her heart leapt. She was free. She looked at Snape, the ever faithful victim of her curse and still wished him dead. iIt's not too late./i she told herself. His eyes looked cold and lifeless as he looked at her, waiting for her next command. The devil inside of her justified that she had already performed an Unforgivable and she so badly wanted to watch him lie on the floor and squirm in pain and beg her to stop the same way she had with him when she tried to resist Duplexplicis. She could, she thought. She certainly had a defense- the man had held her prisoner for two days.
Hermione considered it, pointing the long wand in his direction and glaring. iBut first, I need my own wand back./i She illuminated the room with a simple spell from Snape's wand and grabbed her own from the bedside table. It fit in her hand like a glove, reminding her of the first time she held it in awe. After numerous failed attempts with other wands, this one, her other half had literally leapt from a box in Diagon Alley and fell in front of her with no command given. The old man had laughed and told her, "You don't choose the wand, the wand chooses you." Yes, her wand was perfect, and she loved it dearly.
Not wanting to be like a criminal in a James Bond movie who always leaves a weapon right out of reach, she decided to break his wand. In the wizarding world, breaking someone's wand was the ultimate sign of disrespect, worse than spitting in your face or sleeping with your wife. She set hers down once more, a little reluctantly and held his with a hand at each end. At first she attempted to break it over her knee, but it soon became obvious that it was not going to budge. She moved over to the book case and noted that the sharp corner of the bookcase would be perfect. She cracked it over the edge, but it seemed to only bend right back into shape. Determined, Hermione pushed the middle of the wand against the edge with all her might and weight thrown into it. Sparks of every color began to fly, making a loud wheezing sound. Hermione dropped it, in shock. Snape's wand was not about to be broken, despite her attempts. She honestly felt as if she had angered it, that is, if wands had feelings. Carefully, she picked up.
"Turn around!" Hermione ordered and watched Snape do as asked.
She felt like a child as she hid the wand behind the bookcase.
She patted her robes, feeling dirty and unwashed. Hermione considered taking her wand and running to someone, someone who could help, perhaps Remus or McGonagull. In fact, that would be the logical thing to do, but for once in her life, Hermione's logic was quickly overthrown by her emotions. She wanted to hurt Snape, make him feel a tenth of the pain she had endured over the past few months. She moved closer to his lean figure sitting on the bed and paused for a moment, before she slapped him across the face with all her strength.
His face moved with the force and returned to its original position, unfazed. Merlin, that felt good. She slapped him with no repercussion and wanted to do it again, or perhaps, something worse. Adrenalin rushed through her veins giving her a high only comparable to that of Duplexplicis.
She stepped away and pushed back her hair. "Why did you do this to me?" She yelled with all her might. "Tell me why!"
"Because I adore you." He said in a deadpan voice, responding to her command.
Hermione took a deep breath, "If you adore me, why did you risk my life with Duplexplicis, or keep me locked in a cell for two days for you admiration? Why? You sick fuck. I despise you."
"I wanted to keep you for myself. I didn't want to see you fall into the hands of anyone else. They couldn't possibly appreciate you the way I do. They couldn't possibly fathom the jewel-"Snape's declaration stopped mid-sentence as a loud crack filled the room.
Hermione held the heavy steel platter that once held her food while she was captive. She set it back on the bedside table, panting and unsure of what to do as she looked at the lifeless form of Severus Snape sprawled on the bed. She didn't know what came over her, but hearing him talk and say those things, acting as if he loved her, no even thought of her as a human being was an obvious lie. For him to keep on with the act was only insult to injury.
Wearily, Hermione stepped towards the bed, looking at the lifeless body. Had she killed him? His eyes were closed and she couldn't see any obvious signs of breathing. Her heart raced in either guilt or happiness- she couldn't tell. She slowly reached out a hand to check the pulse on the side of his neck. Her two fingers pressed down against the soft flesh and she could feel the blood rushing through his veins underneath.
Realizing he was only unconscious, Hermione turned on her heels and headed for the door. As her hand grasped the metal of the door, a strong arm grasped her from around her waist and pulled her to him. Holding her hair tightly, he whispered in her ear, "Don't be so foolish."
"Avada-"she hesitated for the briefest of moments, "Imperio!" despite her anger, she couldn't kill him in cold blood. A green light flew from the tip of the wand with such force that it threw Hermione against the invisible wall. Hermione looked up to find the hand still outstretched in a last attempt to save his life that Hermione was weak enough to spare.
"Sit up!" she ordered. Immediately, the long lean body belonging to her Professor sat up stiffly the covers falling off revealing a white upper torso. A small grin appeared across her face. He was under her control now.
"Tell me how to take off the charms. Now!" she screamed, still afraid that he might come out of the spell at any moment.
To her amazement, he calmly began telling her the spells to take off the wards to the bed in a nonchalant voice. She was impressed at the extent he went to keep her in her cell. The tricky combination of a huge amount of spells took her a while to get out of the cell.
Once her feet touched the stone laid ground, her heart leapt. She was free. She looked at Snape, the ever faithful victim of her curse and still wished him dead. iIt's not too late./i she told herself. His eyes looked cold and lifeless as he looked at her, waiting for her next command. The devil inside of her justified that she had already performed an Unforgivable and she so badly wanted to watch him lie on the floor and squirm in pain and beg her to stop the same way she had with him when she tried to resist Duplexplicis. She could, she thought. She certainly had a defense- the man had held her prisoner for two days.
Hermione considered it, pointing the long wand in his direction and glaring. iBut first, I need my own wand back./i She illuminated the room with a simple spell from Snape's wand and grabbed her own from the bedside table. It fit in her hand like a glove, reminding her of the first time she held it in awe. After numerous failed attempts with other wands, this one, her other half had literally leapt from a box in Diagon Alley and fell in front of her with no command given. The old man had laughed and told her, "You don't choose the wand, the wand chooses you." Yes, her wand was perfect, and she loved it dearly.
Not wanting to be like a criminal in a James Bond movie who always leaves a weapon right out of reach, she decided to break his wand. In the wizarding world, breaking someone's wand was the ultimate sign of disrespect, worse than spitting in your face or sleeping with your wife. She set hers down once more, a little reluctantly and held his with a hand at each end. At first she attempted to break it over her knee, but it soon became obvious that it was not going to budge. She moved over to the book case and noted that the sharp corner of the bookcase would be perfect. She cracked it over the edge, but it seemed to only bend right back into shape. Determined, Hermione pushed the middle of the wand against the edge with all her might and weight thrown into it. Sparks of every color began to fly, making a loud wheezing sound. Hermione dropped it, in shock. Snape's wand was not about to be broken, despite her attempts. She honestly felt as if she had angered it, that is, if wands had feelings. Carefully, she picked up.
"Turn around!" Hermione ordered and watched Snape do as asked.
She felt like a child as she hid the wand behind the bookcase.
She patted her robes, feeling dirty and unwashed. Hermione considered taking her wand and running to someone, someone who could help, perhaps Remus or McGonagull. In fact, that would be the logical thing to do, but for once in her life, Hermione's logic was quickly overthrown by her emotions. She wanted to hurt Snape, make him feel a tenth of the pain she had endured over the past few months. She moved closer to his lean figure sitting on the bed and paused for a moment, before she slapped him across the face with all her strength.
His face moved with the force and returned to its original position, unfazed. Merlin, that felt good. She slapped him with no repercussion and wanted to do it again, or perhaps, something worse. Adrenalin rushed through her veins giving her a high only comparable to that of Duplexplicis.
She stepped away and pushed back her hair. "Why did you do this to me?" She yelled with all her might. "Tell me why!"
"Because I adore you." He said in a deadpan voice, responding to her command.
Hermione took a deep breath, "If you adore me, why did you risk my life with Duplexplicis, or keep me locked in a cell for two days for you admiration? Why? You sick fuck. I despise you."
"I wanted to keep you for myself. I didn't want to see you fall into the hands of anyone else. They couldn't possibly appreciate you the way I do. They couldn't possibly fathom the jewel-"Snape's declaration stopped mid-sentence as a loud crack filled the room.
Hermione held the heavy steel platter that once held her food while she was captive. She set it back on the bedside table, panting and unsure of what to do as she looked at the lifeless form of Severus Snape sprawled on the bed. She didn't know what came over her, but hearing him talk and say those things, acting as if he loved her, no even thought of her as a human being was an obvious lie. For him to keep on with the act was only insult to injury.
Wearily, Hermione stepped towards the bed, looking at the lifeless body. Had she killed him? His eyes were closed and she couldn't see any obvious signs of breathing. Her heart raced in either guilt or happiness- she couldn't tell. She slowly reached out a hand to check the pulse on the side of his neck. Her two fingers pressed down against the soft flesh and she could feel the blood rushing through his veins underneath.
Realizing he was only unconscious, Hermione turned on her heels and headed for the door. As her hand grasped the metal of the door, a strong arm grasped her from around her waist and pulled her to him. Holding her hair tightly, he whispered in her ear, "Don't be so foolish."