Anti-lawyer spell: Only borrowing, not making any money with it, promise to return ( although condition should have improved no guarantee is given).
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly_especially if bunnies are well fed_hint hint ;o)
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The darkness continued in here, but her eyes were slowly becoming more accustomed to the gloom and she could make out the large bed in one corner of the room and set at an angle, two chairs sat before a fire which had recently been giving of enough heat so that the room did not feel too cold, and him. He sat in the chair facing the door, just as she had known he would. He rose, crossing towards her, his boot heels clicking on the floor as soon as he left the rug behind. No words were spoken, but Hermione suddenly knew that this was the norm. She couldn't see his face, the gloom in the room obscuring all but a glint in dark eyes as he drew her to him and she dissolved into his embrace.
Desperately gathering all the information she could about him, just in case this was the only time she would remember, she filed away her first impressions of her lover. He was tall, towering over her 5'7", making her feel small and protected. He was lean; she could feel his muscles moving beneath the light cotton shirt he wore, his hips narrow and his stomach flat. His hair was collar length, hanging straight and thick as she pushed her hands through it, caressing his nape as she drew his lips in to kiss him once more. He tasted of the wine he had been drinking earlier that evening, and strangely of apple and cinnamon. His hands were large graceful, she could feel them splayed along her back, gently sweeping across her skin under her robe, pushing the straps of her nightdress off her shoulders until gravity brought both the garments to a rippling puddle of aqua silk and charcoal grey wool at her feet. He took a step back, towards the large bed, gently pulling her hands captured in his as a silent request for her to join him. Needing no further bidding, Hermione stepped from her clothes and into his arms as he gathered her to him and carried her the rest of the way across the room and into his bed.
Suddenly realising that her overanalyses of the situation was preventing her from fully appreciating the moment she was living in, Hermione deliberately stopped her catalogue of sensations. She had been trying to ascertain the fabric of his bed hangings and nearly missed a casual caress of her right hip as he settled her into the warmth of his bed. Willingly she became swept up in the tide of passion and yearning that was overcoming her, overcoming them both from the groans of pleasure he was making as she moved her hands over his chest in exploration. Deciding he had way too many clothes on for her liking, Hermione began to sensuously pull the buttons from their moorings, until the light tugging became a frantic groan and pulling action as she realised that these were not going to be as easy as muggle button holes. She groaned in frustration, sitting up and giving one last tug in a silent plea for help. He chuckled, a deep low rumble which instantly connected Hermione's ears to the throbbing core of her, making her lags turn to jelly and her need for him escalate beyond anything she had ever felt before. Gods, this man was unbelievable her mind whispered. What was it about him, she was obsessed by her need.
He obliged her by getting up from the bed, despite her mew of protest at him moving. He hushed her and quickly began removing his shirt, toeing off his boots and stepping on his socks. Realising that she was watching him intently, her night vision being able to make out his form if not his features, he slowed down, letting her take in the sight of him removing the rest of his clothes, he stood motionless for a while, their unseeing eyes connecting in the gloom, their awareness of each other hyper sensitive. She raised her arms to him, welcoming him back into her embrace. He stepped into her like a drowning man clinging to his salvation.
Their love making was intense, never hurried but slow and deliberate, all sensation wrung from each moment. Despite her lack of memory about this man, Hermione found that her body knew him, knew what he liked, how to please him and make him moan his pleasure. And, as they finally found their fulfilment in each other, Hermione's final climax pushing him over the edge of control and into his own abyss she found a single phrase escaped her, whispered into his hair…… my love.
They had drifted, contented and sleepy into a light slumber, arms still tight around each other, sharing the same breathes., and this was when the contentment hit her, the realisation of her spoken words. How she was not sure, and by every logically thought pattern it was inconceivable that she should feel this way., but she wanted him, she needed him, she loved this man with a fierce passion which made every other feeling she had experienced seem to pale in comparison. This was the dream that she would have chosen to come true. The one desire of her heart which would have shone out clearly from the Mirror of Erised. She craved this love, this absolute need of another, to be so needed in return.
She had always wanted to belong, to be part of the group. Singled out in muggle primary school she had been excluded from the life of her peers. No-one could understand her intelligence and seemingly weird abilities, not enough to be her friend. She had been so relieved when she had received her letter from Hogwart's and realised that there would be hundreds of other children just like her, hundreds of new opportunities. Only they hadn't all been like her. Her intelligence had proved to be another boundary to making friends and being liked for herself. When she was finally accepted into Harry and Ron's exclusive little club of misfits she had finally found the first best friends of her life. She was dedicated to the group from then on, they were her friends.
Although the troublesome trio had stayed close, their time together after graduation had changed. No longer one big round of adventure, their friendships had matured, had changed. Hermione had matured and needed so much more than just friendship, not from Harry and Ron, that would have been too gross for words, they were her family now after so many years as best friends. No, now she needed to find someonelse, her soul mate.
If she could have chosen, in truth, for a dream to be reality then this one would be it. Not knowing which magic was involved she simply thanked everything in creation for providing her with this reality, before drifting off to sleep contentedly in her lovers arms.
She had gone, slipped away into an insubstantial shadow before his eyes. Arms which had surrounded him, held him close and loved him, were suddenly dragged away, as if they never were, just a dream.
The scent of their night together filled the room, a sweet cloying which belied his dream status. Gathering the pillow she had slept on to his chest he buried his head in it's depths, breathing in her scent and shaking with all the pent up emotion he felt at her leaving. Just one phrase escaped him as he muffled the sounds of his despair….my love.
.
Please review in abundance, it's the only thing that keeps me going. If there are any beta readers who wouldn't mind giving some constructive crits I would really appreciate it.
Summary: Sometimes dreams can become reality, the problem is deciding which ones and when that line has been crossed. A Snape and Hermione story which may change rating, depending upon the reviews and bunnies.
Thankyou for the reviews, promise to keep the word count up from now on. Will update regularly_especially if bunnies are well fed_hint hint ;o)
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
The darkness continued in here, but her eyes were slowly becoming more accustomed to the gloom and she could make out the large bed in one corner of the room and set at an angle, two chairs sat before a fire which had recently been giving of enough heat so that the room did not feel too cold, and him. He sat in the chair facing the door, just as she had known he would. He rose, crossing towards her, his boot heels clicking on the floor as soon as he left the rug behind. No words were spoken, but Hermione suddenly knew that this was the norm. She couldn't see his face, the gloom in the room obscuring all but a glint in dark eyes as he drew her to him and she dissolved into his embrace.
Desperately gathering all the information she could about him, just in case this was the only time she would remember, she filed away her first impressions of her lover. He was tall, towering over her 5'7", making her feel small and protected. He was lean; she could feel his muscles moving beneath the light cotton shirt he wore, his hips narrow and his stomach flat. His hair was collar length, hanging straight and thick as she pushed her hands through it, caressing his nape as she drew his lips in to kiss him once more. He tasted of the wine he had been drinking earlier that evening, and strangely of apple and cinnamon. His hands were large graceful, she could feel them splayed along her back, gently sweeping across her skin under her robe, pushing the straps of her nightdress off her shoulders until gravity brought both the garments to a rippling puddle of aqua silk and charcoal grey wool at her feet. He took a step back, towards the large bed, gently pulling her hands captured in his as a silent request for her to join him. Needing no further bidding, Hermione stepped from her clothes and into his arms as he gathered her to him and carried her the rest of the way across the room and into his bed.
Suddenly realising that her overanalyses of the situation was preventing her from fully appreciating the moment she was living in, Hermione deliberately stopped her catalogue of sensations. She had been trying to ascertain the fabric of his bed hangings and nearly missed a casual caress of her right hip as he settled her into the warmth of his bed. Willingly she became swept up in the tide of passion and yearning that was overcoming her, overcoming them both from the groans of pleasure he was making as she moved her hands over his chest in exploration. Deciding he had way too many clothes on for her liking, Hermione began to sensuously pull the buttons from their moorings, until the light tugging became a frantic groan and pulling action as she realised that these were not going to be as easy as muggle button holes. She groaned in frustration, sitting up and giving one last tug in a silent plea for help. He chuckled, a deep low rumble which instantly connected Hermione's ears to the throbbing core of her, making her lags turn to jelly and her need for him escalate beyond anything she had ever felt before. Gods, this man was unbelievable her mind whispered. What was it about him, she was obsessed by her need.
He obliged her by getting up from the bed, despite her mew of protest at him moving. He hushed her and quickly began removing his shirt, toeing off his boots and stepping on his socks. Realising that she was watching him intently, her night vision being able to make out his form if not his features, he slowed down, letting her take in the sight of him removing the rest of his clothes, he stood motionless for a while, their unseeing eyes connecting in the gloom, their awareness of each other hyper sensitive. She raised her arms to him, welcoming him back into her embrace. He stepped into her like a drowning man clinging to his salvation.
Their love making was intense, never hurried but slow and deliberate, all sensation wrung from each moment. Despite her lack of memory about this man, Hermione found that her body knew him, knew what he liked, how to please him and make him moan his pleasure. And, as they finally found their fulfilment in each other, Hermione's final climax pushing him over the edge of control and into his own abyss she found a single phrase escaped her, whispered into his hair…… my love.
They had drifted, contented and sleepy into a light slumber, arms still tight around each other, sharing the same breathes., and this was when the contentment hit her, the realisation of her spoken words. How she was not sure, and by every logically thought pattern it was inconceivable that she should feel this way., but she wanted him, she needed him, she loved this man with a fierce passion which made every other feeling she had experienced seem to pale in comparison. This was the dream that she would have chosen to come true. The one desire of her heart which would have shone out clearly from the Mirror of Erised. She craved this love, this absolute need of another, to be so needed in return.
She had always wanted to belong, to be part of the group. Singled out in muggle primary school she had been excluded from the life of her peers. No-one could understand her intelligence and seemingly weird abilities, not enough to be her friend. She had been so relieved when she had received her letter from Hogwart's and realised that there would be hundreds of other children just like her, hundreds of new opportunities. Only they hadn't all been like her. Her intelligence had proved to be another boundary to making friends and being liked for herself. When she was finally accepted into Harry and Ron's exclusive little club of misfits she had finally found the first best friends of her life. She was dedicated to the group from then on, they were her friends.
Although the troublesome trio had stayed close, their time together after graduation had changed. No longer one big round of adventure, their friendships had matured, had changed. Hermione had matured and needed so much more than just friendship, not from Harry and Ron, that would have been too gross for words, they were her family now after so many years as best friends. No, now she needed to find someonelse, her soul mate.
If she could have chosen, in truth, for a dream to be reality then this one would be it. Not knowing which magic was involved she simply thanked everything in creation for providing her with this reality, before drifting off to sleep contentedly in her lovers arms.
She had gone, slipped away into an insubstantial shadow before his eyes. Arms which had surrounded him, held him close and loved him, were suddenly dragged away, as if they never were, just a dream.
The scent of their night together filled the room, a sweet cloying which belied his dream status. Gathering the pillow she had slept on to his chest he buried his head in it's depths, breathing in her scent and shaking with all the pent up emotion he felt at her leaving. Just one phrase escaped him as he muffled the sounds of his despair….my love.
.