Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 22 ~ Coming to Terms
Hermione stared at the wizard, her mouth dropping open again.
“Me? A Snape?” she said, her voice sounding odd to her own ears.
“You. A Snape. My wife to be exact,” Snape replied.
“But…but…” Hermione stammered. The wizard stepped closer to her and placed one finger on her lips to quiet her. His voice was low.
“It is already established, Hermione. The ring is infallible when it comes to Snapes. You will marry me,” the Potions Master said with finality. As far as he was concerned it was a done deal.
“But, suppose I don’t want to marry you?” Hermione asked him, feeling a bit defiant at the Professor’s claim. He had some nerve being so confident that she would accept his name.
Snape looked at her, his eyes glittering.
“After I get you into my bed Hermione, I guarantee you won’t want any other wizard but me,” he breathed.
Hermione, still trying to maintain control over her destiny despite the growing wetness between her thighs, started to say something else, something that wasn’t true. Snape stopped her.
“I warn you, Hermione…be careful what comes out of that lovely little mouth of yours. If you try to deny that you want me, I will be forced to prove that you do. As much as I want to bury myself in your delicious body and show you exactly how much I desire you, I would prefer to deflower you in my bed back at Hogwarts in a more respectful and reverent manner, rather than taking you up against the wall of a dusty tomb in an uncontrollable burst of animal lust. So if you were about to deny your feelings for me…don’t.”
The Professor looked at her hungrily, his pale face set, half wanting her to go ahead and say she didn’t desire him. He could see the need in her eyes already. Being back in a physical body was heady. He could almost feel the blood circulating through his veins. He was definitely feeling it flowing into his cock. Fucking her would be very satisfying.
Hermione saw the look in Snape’s eyes and knew he meant what he said. If he even touched her, she would lose it. She wouldn’t be able to stop. As much as she wanted to experience his passion, she really didn’t want her first time to be in a tomb. So she swallowed down the denial she was about to spout and instead said softly, “All right, Professor…I won’t.”
She thought he looked a bit disappointed. She decided it would be best to get off this topic.
“Everyone will be so happy to see you, Professor,” she said brightly.
Snape arched an eyebrow at her.
“So I take it my reported death has succeeded in turning my rather detestable memory into a kinder, more lovable wizard in the eyes of the wizarding world?” he said to her sarcastically. “Only such an inane and erroneous perception would make anyone happy to see me.”
Hermione blanched a little. The fact was the loss of the Professor was only mourned by a handful of people. Albus, Minerva, Flitwick and a few Order members like Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks. Remus had also expressed sorrow. Ronald Weasley would have gladly danced on the Professor’s grave, if he had one.
“Well, maybe not everyone, Professor. But no one is aware of what you’ve done for the wizarding world when you killed Voldemort. Once they know that…” she began.
“I will be deluged by well-wishers and simpering Ministry officials. The media won’t leave me alone, and I won’t be able to move about freely in public or have a private life. I don’t think so, Hermione. Only a select few will know what I’ve done. I am a free wizard now. I don’t want to be curtailed by becoming a public figure,” Snape said.
“But Professor, you’re a hero! You’ve single-handedly removed the most dangerous wizard in existence from the face of the earth. People should know this. You should be rewarded for your service,” she breathed looking up at him. Snape gave her a grim little smile.
“You are the only reward I want, Hermione,” he said. “I would not be adverse to you showing me your ‘appreciation’ for my heroic deeds. As for everyone else…the hell with them. Let the death of Voldemort remain a mystery.”
Hermione looked at the Professor. He was such a brave wizard. A hero. She remembered him charging through the final battle with his sword in his hand, covered in blood. The Professor could have used just his magic to fight, it was certainly sufficient, but he chose to use a sword to bring himself into close contact and commit physical violence against the enemy. In addition to being a brilliant man, he was dangerous, dark and bloodthirsty. But he had shown her another side of him, one she was sure not many knew about. His hot-blooded, passionate side. Standing here black-robed, black-eyed, and black-haired, staring down at her, the Professor just reeked masculinity, maleness, power and sex, sex, sex. Hermione had to admit that knowing the wizard that rid the world of Voldemort wanted her was a very big turn on. And he didn’t want her as a passing pleasure. He wanted her forever.
Gods, she was back to this again.
Snape watched Hermione closely, drinking in the way the witch’s eyes expressed her emotions. He would love looking into those amber orbs when he finally took her. They were like twin suns when she was aroused, glowing with an inner fire. He wanted to see them widen, then go half-lidded with pleasure as they did last night when he gave Hermione the release she craved. But oh, it would be so much more when he could have her properly. Suddenly, he felt the overpowering urge to leave this place and return to England.
“Hermione, we can leave now. Go back to Hogwarts,” he said, taking her hands and looking into her eyes meaningfully. Hermione understood. They could go back and finish what they had started in the realm of her dreams.
Raucous cawed happily. He was ready to go back home. He had enough of unicorns, hawks, wolves, snakes and whatever else this damned island held. All he wanted was his perch and three squares a day from his mistress. He was happy to see Snape, but Hermione had his heart now. He would never leave her.
“Yesss,” Hermione breathed looking into his dark eyes and almost falling into them…then. “No, no I can’t go back yet.”
Snape scowled. “Why? You’ve done what you came to do,” he said, clearly irritated by the possibility of a delay.
“I have to go see Peter and let him know I am all right,” she said.
Peter? Who the hell was Peter? Snape’s scowl darkened. Was she talking about seeing another wizard?
“Who is Peter?” he demanded, his soft voice sharp with possessiveness. Hermione heard the inflection and grinned at him.
“Not your competition, Professor,” she said, now breaking out into a smile as the Potions Master relaxed at this statement. He certainly was jealous. “Peter is a seven year old boy, the son of Petra, the innkeeper, “ she said.
Snape raised his eyebrow. She had only been in the village a couple of days. How did she manage to form such an attachment?
“Surely the boy will be all right, Hermione. I am anxious to get back,” he pressed. Hermione’s jaw set stubbornly.
“No. I promised him I would let him know I was all right. That the mountain didn’t get me. We have to go to the village before we leave here,” she stated firmly.
Snape’s eyes swept over her. The witch’s body language showed she would not be moved on this. She would be livid if he just took her to Hogwarts anyway, and that could result in her giving him a very hard time about deflowering her. He would eventually persuade her, he was sure, but he would rather have her current cooperation and willingness, rather than having to chase her and court her all over again.
“Very well,” he conceded, “Come, we will go to the village and you can say your goodbyes.”
Holding her hand firmly, Snape led the witch out of the tomb. He released her and turned toward the great open doors. He extended his hands and the heavy doors slowly swing shut. A loud clanking sound followed, ending with a heavy thump. The Professor turned and looked toward the Manor, the ancestral home of his people. If he chose, he could take it over and become its Lord. He was the holder of the ring after all. But he had no desire to live in the land of Mu, where an entire village of people, rather than a few dunderheaded students would fear him.
“Thinking about paying your relatives a visit, Professor?” Hermione asked him, also looking toward the Manor. She wouldn’t mind seeing what they looked like.
The Professor was silent for a moment.
Finally he said, “No, Hermione. I won’t intrude on them,” he said shortly, “Let them continue in the way they are accustomed to.” He looked at her as she hoisted her backpack on.
“It will take us about two days to make it back down the mountain. I have about one day’s worth of jerky left. If we eat sparingly…” Hermione began, faltering as she saw the way Snape’s eyes narrowed.
Snape looked at her as if she were insane.
“Hermione, I have no intention of hiking down this mountain and facing unicorns and gods know what else,” he said, “We will apparate to the village.”
Hermione looked at him. She had been doing without magic for so long, she didn’t even think about his ability to apparate.
“Oh,” she said softly, feeling like an idiot.
The Professor sighed and opened his arms. Hermione stepped into them. Raucous, who had been on Snape’s shoulder the entire time, jumped to Hermione’s and looked at the Professor expectantly. The Potions Master pulled Hermione tight against him, enjoying the feeling of her breasts mashing into him. Hermione looked up at him rather shyly, then gasped as his cock throbbed against her belly. Snape wasn’t the least bit apologetic.
“I told you that you have an arousing effect on me, Hermione,” he said, kissing her on her forehead. He didn’t dare kiss her on the mouth. He wouldn’t be able to stop if he started. He sighed again, a bit of frustration beneath it.
“Let’s go to the village and get this out of the way quickly,” the Professor growled at her, his black eyes glinting. “We have pressing business to attend to at Hogwarts.”
Pulling Hermione even tighter against him, they disapparated.
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Ozmadias shifted his footing with interest as two people emerged from the tomb. He knew in an instant that the wizard was one of the Snape family. He couldn’t be anything else with his dark, silky hair, black eyes and pale skin. And that nose. Typical Snape nose, though his was rather large even by Snape standards. He watched as the wizard sealed the door and looked up at the Manor.
If he returned, there would be another shift of power. But instead, the wizard embraced the witch and disapparated, thunder echoing in their wake. Well, they were gone, and Ozmadias was officially free of spying. Thank the gods.
The great bird leapt off the mountainside and flapped strongly toward the Manor to share what he saw with the Mistress. Things would finally return to normal.
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A/N: Well, Snape has closed up the tomb and taken Hermione to the village to say goodbye to Peter. He is certainly in a rush to get back to Hogwarts. I was tempted to do a lemon scene, but decided against it. They need the bed. Snape would be sure to bruise her up badly against all that stone. Lol. Please review.
Snapelover11: I was wondering where the heck you were girl. Glad you found the story. There are a couple of others too. A Christmas one with good Severus, and a pretty naughty one with sneaky, lusty, “get her any way you can” Snape. Then one suggested by LadyTalon where Snape is the virgin called Snape Loses It. Then there’s the List and In the Darkest Heart. I didn’t see any reviews from you so figure you missed those too. All fun stuff. If you haven’t read them, go check them out when you have time. They’re listed on my author page. And it’s great to see you on the review boards again! And thanks for the sympathy with the phone situation. I think I might be back online by Thursday or Friday. Then have to work on next month’s bill. Lol. A never-ending story. Anyway, much love, girl.
The Burning Pen
The Ring
by Ruth Solomon
The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence. Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately. You are not welcome here. The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.