Chapter 10: Remember Your Position
Author's Note: First I disclaim ownership of HP characters, etc… when I checked in the mirror this morning; I didn't resemble J.K. Rowling in any way possible.
Secondly… I LOVE ALL YOU GUYS FOR READING, REVIEWING, FOLLOWING, FAVOURITING, PRIVATE MESSAGES! Love them all and totally grateful, but I've got a special request to you readers! Please tell me what you expect during the interaction between Snape and Granger. I'm all open ears and I don't bite, wait that's a lie, I totally bite in bed ;P . I've got tons of things planned but I totally want and need you to feed my vortex of ideas; feed my muse, no be my muse humanity! Honestly I don't want you to read the chapters on the screen and feel unsatisfied, unfulfilled, and that you feel like you wasted your precious time. It breaks my heart. It's not fun to see a grown man with a sad heart. *sad face* When that happens to me, man I feel so damn irritated, it literally makes me slam my head on my keyboard, yes that's my reaction.
For those who are thinking this is far too innocent, blend, etc and that Snape's character is far too 'fluffy', guess what I'm planning to follow his original characteristic; tinge of gentleness only. At this point Hermione would be saying, "Severus, you have gentleness that's the amount of a teaspoon." This story will get darker and naughty *sly grin*, just wait for me. I promise. Don't believe me? Then follow the damn story.
Wasting time and listening to the clock ticking for each second passing was driving Snape, who was sprawled across the creaking bed, to the brink of insanity. For the longest period of time he remained motionless with a blank mind. It was clear that sleep wouldn't be subduing him in any minute.
His mind felt foggy and unclear; although only a handful of wizards and witches could pass his strongly guarded, defensive mind, if one was to enter his mind, one's sight would be obscured with layers of thick, opaque fog. Feeling frustrated, Snape skillfully walked to the staff's loo in absolute silence. Throughout Hogwarts, there wouldn't be another witch or wizard or ghosts awake and walking about the eerie castle.
He whipped off his cloak which revealed the next layer; a white, wrinkleless dress shirt. During the procedure, his locket flew across the washroom, he heaved a sigh before he properly placed the locket onto the cold, marble, sink counter. He kicked off his pants and boxers. Immediately his hardened, jutted flesh stuck its head out between his groins. He entered the showers and turned on the knob. The cold, icy droplets rained over his sinewy, lean body and leathered him thoroughly. His deep, black eyes darkened. He had his palms against the wall while hanging his head. The gushing water formed a thin layer beneath his feet. His long, lank hair cascaded the sides of his pale, smooth skin. He could see the ripples enlarge, each ring dispersing further and further apart.
The water mirrored Snape; he could see his marred body. His biggest scar was a snake that slithered diagonally from his left shoulder blade which stopped just above his bellybutton. Another smaller but sharp, jagged scar climbed upwards from the right side of his torso to the start of his ribcage. Those two were the most notable scars on his flesh but if some fool dared to peer closely to his trunk, they would see tiny, faded old scars. Each of those scars carried a horrifying tale; it was the history of his Death Eater career engraved onto his skin. He lazily lifted his forearm where the Dark Mark had been painfully seared. He could easily recall the day he'd been marked; how he gritted his teeth tightly holding back the sharp cry while the Dark Lord pressed his wand onto his vulnerable flesh until his blood oozed onto the old, dusty, creaking floor. That wasn't the cause of the pain; many stupid, clueless witches and wizards naively believed receiving the mark only brought forth physical pain. It was like stabbing a red-hot, flaming iron rod onto the skin which scorched the soul just as it burned the flesh. Yes, he was marked a Death Eater onto his body and soul. Lord Voldemort intentionally created the spell to mark his followers through soul and body. The sadistic maniac loved the marking ceremony. Those who passed the baptismal passage couldn't use their arm for 2 days. The procedure tore the muscles and burned the skin; it was impossible to control the arm when it uncontrollably shook as if it was having a seizure.
He reminded himself who he was. He was a man who was soaked in innocent blood and he had already treaded in the filthy, mucky, dark water. As the Dark Lord's faithful servant, he had terrorized, destroyed, killed, tortured, and abducted so many muggles, witches, and wizards. He sneered, disgusted by himself. Those days finally came to a stop when the foolish young man, he was recognized of his foolish, careless behaviour that ended lives or even worse ruined them permanently. What woke him up was the day his first, true friend who he loved so dearly got brutally tortured and murdered by the dark wizard whom he followed and obeyed.
Now he was a soldier for the Order, to be specific, Albus. He traded his freedom in atonement for Lily's death. Snape knew that Lord Voldemort would revive in the future, he was convinced that he would while being on guard with Dumbledore. In the future, when the Dark Lord rose back in power, he would be chosen among the Order to invade the group he now loathed; Death Eaters. He would need to reclaim his previous position, second in the hierarchy of Death Eaters, except this time he would join as a double agent. He would commit gruesome crimes and unforgivable tasks to regain trust and power. The last thing he needed was any attachments to anything.
You mean anyone. His inner thought corrected him and he expressed a fierce frown.
The young Gryffindor, Hermione Granger. He let out a low growl and his body turned rigid at her name as the water coated his face. His body reacted just to her name alone. The logical part of his brain interrupted his ridiculous, lustful side of his brain.
The damned, troublesome, meddlesome girl. She's a thorn to our side; a needless, useless distraction that serves no purpose.
His lustful side continued. So we are admitting that she's a girl, unlike the snot-nosed brats we're surrounded by. She's just a girl and yet she's already a threat to us.
He knew by experience, girls matured quickly to young women unlike juvenile boys who took eternity to turn into a man. Granger was already much mature than the girls around her age and her intellect overshadowed much of his older students. It was expected that she would reach adulthood much faster too. That thought scared him; she could control him with the uses sentiments, attraction, whatever people called it. He was already gravitating towards the witch with untameable hair. He raised the water temperature from ice cold to hot.
Hell, he admitted that he got terrified not by her actions yesterday, no, his desires and thoughts startled him. When the young witch kissed him, he wanted to keep her with him in their secret spot. He greedily wished to claim her unprotected lips with his mouth and pry her mouth open to glide his tongue against hers. He wished to inflict pleasure to Granger. To sinfully taste her. He desired to have her press her body against his and he would shift his weight on her. The hot water didn't help to tranquillize his aroused body and his lustful thoughts.
He slid his hand around his cock as he rhythmically rubbed his hands over his pulsing, heated manhood. He tilted his head backwards as the gushing water washed his face. He began to rock his hips slowly. Granger and her ensnaring, feminine scent, her large, warm, trusting, melting brown eyes, and her soft, parted mouth. Fuck. He forcefully pummeled his cock over his rough hands that were coated in the hot water. He desperately needed a release tonight. He continued until pleasure violently ripped through his body as he spurted his seamen and sperms into the rushing water. His hands and hips slowed down as he grew limp against the side of the wet, slippery wall. He stayed in the shower for another five minutes. He panted against the wall as he began to feel lightheaded.
The water dripped from his hair while he grabbed the towels to dry himself. He silently admitted to himself. Granger, you have this much control over my mind and body. He would go and watch her flight exam tomorrow but afterwards would tarnish the relationship. By dawn, he would be steeling himself; for the sake of protecting Lily's son, Harry Potter, Hermione's bright future, and his sanity. He would have no room for a single mistake in the future and if he kept his bond to Granger besides their teacher-student relationship, Granger would become his Achilles heel. There was no way in hell that he would accept that and he would prohibit it from occurring.
Thank for reading! Hope you liked it, but I remind you again to review and give me advices and ideas! PLEASE (_)/ AND THANKS! KEEP FOLLOWING FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS :) CHEERS.