Fic: Brave New World (23/28): Harry Potter
Title: Brave New World
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Harry Potter
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters. Making no money here, as they all still belong to their prospective owners.
Summary: Partially DH compliant, most AU. Voldemort arrived at Malfoy Manor quicker than expected, and like that, the war was over. Now, Hermione is Snape's "assigned companion," and as determined as ever to stop Voldemort and save her friends. But that's hard to do in Voldemort's new world…
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Plan, Changed
Hermione's hair was splayed across the pillow as her eyes began to roll back in her head. Below her waist, snuggled in her womanhood, was Snape, and the things he was doing to her down there was nothing short of magical. She could feel that (now) familiar heat growing, pooling in her belly like some warm drink. Then, in the smallest moment, she was flung full-bodied into release, gasping and arching as Snape kissed his way around her thighs.
Without leaving his perch between her legs, he raised his head, a bright smile on his face. She looked down the length of her own body, returning the smile.
"I'll miss the frequency of this once school starts back," he said.
Hermione giggled up at the ceiling, feeling the warmth beginning to slowly ebb away. And once her thoughts turned from the bright, fuzzy pink amorphic things she pictured them to be at that moment to solid things, she raised up on her elbows, eyes wide in alarm.
"Severus, I was just thinking," she began.
"Yes?" he asked, moving to sit up on his knees.
"I… well, I intend to go back to school. To complete my seventh year. I've been thinking about it a lot. If we defeat Voldemort in enough time, I'd like to finish school properly. My parents would like that, and I would too. But… I was serious. I was serious when I said I wanted to continue to have a relationship with you. What do you think?"
Severus looked down her body, drawing his eyes away from her to gaze off somewhere in the distance. He seemed to be considering everything, and Hermione found herself biting her lip in nervous anticipation-a move that she was sure looked quite different since she was completely nude and sprawled out in front of him. Finally, he turned, meeting her eyes as if this was a normal way to be dressed to be having a serious conversation.
"Relationships between students and teachers are forbidden, even if the student is of legal age. It's in the school's bylaws," he said finally.
Hermione felt like she was a balloon that had been deflated. She drew her knees up, sitting up so she could hug them to her chest. All she could manage in response was a small, dejected "oh." She had her face turned away from him, resting her cheek on her knees. She felt him move up the bed, turning to sit beside her. His arms encircled her body, and he planted a kiss on the top of her head.
"But I'll wait for you," he said.
Blinking, she turned to stare at him. He grinned at her surprise.
"What's a year?" he shrugged.
She grinned, throwing herself on him and covering his mouth with hers. She trailed her hands up and down his body, maneuvering him until she lay atop him. He stared at her, and she arched a brow suggestively.
"Your turn," she whispered, kissing a trail down his chest.
He gasped as she lowered herself on his sex, using every trick she had ever read about to repay the favor of his explorations earlier. It wasn't long before his hands were wrapped in the bed sheets beside him, and he was whispering her name in a feverish way. She kept up the pace, employing her hands when her mouth needed a break every now and again. With a loud grunt, he found his release, and Hermione sat back, smiling and approving of her handiwork.
As she crawled back up the bed to lay beside him, he fumbled for-and found-his wand, cleaning their mess. She laughed softly as he leaned forward, kissing her tenderly. They spent several moments like that, kissing each other's mouths, necks, and chests, with their hands openly exploring their bodies. Hermione was feeling the heat within her growing, and she began to press her body against his, as if willing them to become one melded being.
That all came to a screeching halt when Snape suddenly pulled back, gasping, but not in ecstasy. He pulled his left forearm up, covering it with his right hand, but not before Hermione saw. The Dark Mark was burning on his skin. Voldemort was calling.
Snape's eyes turned to hers, but she nodded knowingly. "You have to go," she said, evenly. He nodded.
In a moment, he was dressed, and gone, leaving Hermione to wrap herself in the blankets and wait.
##
Snape arrived outside Malfoy Manor, expecting to see more of his Death Eater brethren arriving as well. As it was, he was alone. A creeping feeling began to come over him, as if he was being watched even though no one was there. He walked quickly, making it into the manor in record time. He paused just past the entry foyer. The rooms around him were dark. The only one that appeared to have any light within it was flickering its dull glow a little farther up to his right.
"My lord?" he called.
He waited, but the only response was his own echo. Where was Lucius? And hadn't Draco said that Bella was staying here as well? But the manor appeared almost deserted. Instinct told him to pull his wand, but he fought it. Best not to arouse suspicion if he was merely early. Instead, he followed the source of the flickering light into a room whose door was only partially ajar. He put his hand against the cool wood, creaking it open just a bit more so that he could enter without sliding in.
Hanging at the back of the room was the giant, golden cage and its lone occupant. Potter's back was to him, and he didn't seem as if he cared enough, upon hearing the creak of the door, to see who had entered. In fact, he hadn't made the barest movement to even let Snape know that he realized he was no longer alone.
"Potter?" Snape finally snapped. "Where is everyone?"
The Boy Who Lived turned, leisurely, looking thoroughly confused. He was a bit worse for wear. Although he had barely a scrape on him, he had visibly lost weight and there was a dark bruise formed under his right eye. The lens on his left side had the tiniest of cracks in it as well. Though none would believe it, it pained Snape to see the boy this way. Potter was annoying, yes, but he was still just a child in many ways. Her child. This wasn't what he deserved.
"Why are you here?" Potter replied in a voice so small that Snape couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, tired or anything for that matter.
Snape entered the room a bit farther, daring a small glance backwards at the door. Voldemort did not like people visiting Potter without his express permission. He was so protective of the boy that Snape had begun to wonder that, perhaps, the Dark Lord had worked out where part of his soul had gone.
"I was… summoned," Snape answered.
A flicker of emotion flashed through the boy's bright green eyes. It was too quick to say what emotion it was, and Snape dared to draw closer.
"He's going to kill me tomorrow," Harry said.
It was like the boy was confessing his sins. Even as the words left his lips, he looked almost lighter. Well, he had been like Atlas to many people of the Wizarding World. It must be a relief to him, however grim the fate, to know that the weight of the world was finally lifting. But a different problem crossed Snape's mind. He knew what Dumbledore had said, and he had told Hermione it as well. Now, it was coming to pass… but he knew that Hermione would not be pleased that Harry was about to die without choice.
"Potter…" Snape began, but Harry lifted a hand.
He moved closer to the side of the cage facing Snape. He gripped the bars, using them to keep him steady on his feet.
"You should know. You're the only one who hasn't tortured me. And… And I know that you haven't hurt Hermione. Ginny told me, some time ago. So, you should know."
Snape's brow furrowed. "Know what?"
"Why you were really called here. Snape, he intends to kill you."
The former Potion master's eyes widened. Had Voldemort worked it out? That he wasn't keeping Hermione just because she was his so-called assigned companion? That he wasn't really loyal at all?
"Preposterous," Snape huffed. Best to keep the mask on, for now.
Harry shook his head. "No. It's because of the wand. The Elder Wand. It won't work right for him. It's because he hasn't won it. He's not the wand's master. He thinks it's you. Snape, he thinks, since you killed Dumbledore, that you are the real owner of the wand."
Here, Harry leaned forward, dropping his voice. Snape had to lean in, almost touching the cage, to hear what Harry said next.
"But I've had a lot of time to think. I've figured it out. It isn't you. It's Draco. He's the one that disarmed Dumbledore, remember? He's the real master of the Elder Wand!"
Snape leaned back, digesting this new information. "Why tell me, Potter?"
"Because… Because you haven't hurt Hermione."
Snape blinked, surprised. He opened his mouth, ready to say something-anything-but Harry shushed him.
"Do you hear that?"
Snape paused, straining his ears. He did hear something, and it sounded like… like hissing. Before he could turn, he heard something that sounded like words within the hissing. Suddenly, Potter yelled at him, "Watch out!"
Thankfully, Snape's feet were moving quicker than his mind-a rare thing, indeed. He dove to the left, barely feeling the graze of something sharp across his shoulder. He did some hissing of his own as he landed, feeling a warm liquid forming at the tear in his robes.
Voldemort, with Nagini standing ready to strike again, stood across the room from him.
"My apologies, Severus. But… I must really have that wand. Nagini," Voldemort said, ending with another stream of hisses.
Snape didn't need know Parseltongue to realize what those words meant. This was it for him. He was trapped, and Nagini was ready to finish it. Even if he went for his wand, it would be hopeless. Voldemort had the advantage on him, given his injured shoulder. He would be much quicker.
He thought of Hermione, picturing her sweet, smiling face. And he thought of Lily, the flash of her hair in the sun and in her eyes. He could leave this world with at least some measure of peace.
Nagini struck, but she did not hit her mark. Just before she did, two pops indicative of apparition sounded by Snape's huddled form. He looked up to see Neville Longbottom, holding the Sword of Gryffindor of all things, and Hermione standing over him. Neville swung the sword as Hermione moved to wrap Snape's uninjured arm around her shoulders. Nagini's head flew free of her body, which collapsed, limp, to the floor. Voldemort unleased an unearthly screech, but it was cut short as the three of them-Neville, and Hermione side-alonging Snape-apparated away.
Author:
patriciatepes
Artist:
twisted_slinky
Fandom: Harry Potter
Chapter: Prev | Next
Rating/Contents: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters. Making no money here, as they all still belong to their prospective owners.
Summary: Partially DH compliant, most AU. Voldemort arrived at Malfoy Manor quicker than expected, and like that, the war was over. Now, Hermione is Snape's "assigned companion," and as determined as ever to stop Voldemort and save her friends. But that's hard to do in Voldemort's new world…
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Plan, Changed
Hermione's hair was splayed across the pillow as her eyes began to roll back in her head. Below her waist, snuggled in her womanhood, was Snape, and the things he was doing to her down there was nothing short of magical. She could feel that (now) familiar heat growing, pooling in her belly like some warm drink. Then, in the smallest moment, she was flung full-bodied into release, gasping and arching as Snape kissed his way around her thighs.
Without leaving his perch between her legs, he raised his head, a bright smile on his face. She looked down the length of her own body, returning the smile.
"I'll miss the frequency of this once school starts back," he said.
Hermione giggled up at the ceiling, feeling the warmth beginning to slowly ebb away. And once her thoughts turned from the bright, fuzzy pink amorphic things she pictured them to be at that moment to solid things, she raised up on her elbows, eyes wide in alarm.
"Severus, I was just thinking," she began.
"Yes?" he asked, moving to sit up on his knees.
"I… well, I intend to go back to school. To complete my seventh year. I've been thinking about it a lot. If we defeat Voldemort in enough time, I'd like to finish school properly. My parents would like that, and I would too. But… I was serious. I was serious when I said I wanted to continue to have a relationship with you. What do you think?"
Severus looked down her body, drawing his eyes away from her to gaze off somewhere in the distance. He seemed to be considering everything, and Hermione found herself biting her lip in nervous anticipation-a move that she was sure looked quite different since she was completely nude and sprawled out in front of him. Finally, he turned, meeting her eyes as if this was a normal way to be dressed to be having a serious conversation.
"Relationships between students and teachers are forbidden, even if the student is of legal age. It's in the school's bylaws," he said finally.
Hermione felt like she was a balloon that had been deflated. She drew her knees up, sitting up so she could hug them to her chest. All she could manage in response was a small, dejected "oh." She had her face turned away from him, resting her cheek on her knees. She felt him move up the bed, turning to sit beside her. His arms encircled her body, and he planted a kiss on the top of her head.
"But I'll wait for you," he said.
Blinking, she turned to stare at him. He grinned at her surprise.
"What's a year?" he shrugged.
She grinned, throwing herself on him and covering his mouth with hers. She trailed her hands up and down his body, maneuvering him until she lay atop him. He stared at her, and she arched a brow suggestively.
"Your turn," she whispered, kissing a trail down his chest.
He gasped as she lowered herself on his sex, using every trick she had ever read about to repay the favor of his explorations earlier. It wasn't long before his hands were wrapped in the bed sheets beside him, and he was whispering her name in a feverish way. She kept up the pace, employing her hands when her mouth needed a break every now and again. With a loud grunt, he found his release, and Hermione sat back, smiling and approving of her handiwork.
As she crawled back up the bed to lay beside him, he fumbled for-and found-his wand, cleaning their mess. She laughed softly as he leaned forward, kissing her tenderly. They spent several moments like that, kissing each other's mouths, necks, and chests, with their hands openly exploring their bodies. Hermione was feeling the heat within her growing, and she began to press her body against his, as if willing them to become one melded being.
That all came to a screeching halt when Snape suddenly pulled back, gasping, but not in ecstasy. He pulled his left forearm up, covering it with his right hand, but not before Hermione saw. The Dark Mark was burning on his skin. Voldemort was calling.
Snape's eyes turned to hers, but she nodded knowingly. "You have to go," she said, evenly. He nodded.
In a moment, he was dressed, and gone, leaving Hermione to wrap herself in the blankets and wait.
##
Snape arrived outside Malfoy Manor, expecting to see more of his Death Eater brethren arriving as well. As it was, he was alone. A creeping feeling began to come over him, as if he was being watched even though no one was there. He walked quickly, making it into the manor in record time. He paused just past the entry foyer. The rooms around him were dark. The only one that appeared to have any light within it was flickering its dull glow a little farther up to his right.
"My lord?" he called.
He waited, but the only response was his own echo. Where was Lucius? And hadn't Draco said that Bella was staying here as well? But the manor appeared almost deserted. Instinct told him to pull his wand, but he fought it. Best not to arouse suspicion if he was merely early. Instead, he followed the source of the flickering light into a room whose door was only partially ajar. He put his hand against the cool wood, creaking it open just a bit more so that he could enter without sliding in.
Hanging at the back of the room was the giant, golden cage and its lone occupant. Potter's back was to him, and he didn't seem as if he cared enough, upon hearing the creak of the door, to see who had entered. In fact, he hadn't made the barest movement to even let Snape know that he realized he was no longer alone.
"Potter?" Snape finally snapped. "Where is everyone?"
The Boy Who Lived turned, leisurely, looking thoroughly confused. He was a bit worse for wear. Although he had barely a scrape on him, he had visibly lost weight and there was a dark bruise formed under his right eye. The lens on his left side had the tiniest of cracks in it as well. Though none would believe it, it pained Snape to see the boy this way. Potter was annoying, yes, but he was still just a child in many ways. Her child. This wasn't what he deserved.
"Why are you here?" Potter replied in a voice so small that Snape couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, tired or anything for that matter.
Snape entered the room a bit farther, daring a small glance backwards at the door. Voldemort did not like people visiting Potter without his express permission. He was so protective of the boy that Snape had begun to wonder that, perhaps, the Dark Lord had worked out where part of his soul had gone.
"I was… summoned," Snape answered.
A flicker of emotion flashed through the boy's bright green eyes. It was too quick to say what emotion it was, and Snape dared to draw closer.
"He's going to kill me tomorrow," Harry said.
It was like the boy was confessing his sins. Even as the words left his lips, he looked almost lighter. Well, he had been like Atlas to many people of the Wizarding World. It must be a relief to him, however grim the fate, to know that the weight of the world was finally lifting. But a different problem crossed Snape's mind. He knew what Dumbledore had said, and he had told Hermione it as well. Now, it was coming to pass… but he knew that Hermione would not be pleased that Harry was about to die without choice.
"Potter…" Snape began, but Harry lifted a hand.
He moved closer to the side of the cage facing Snape. He gripped the bars, using them to keep him steady on his feet.
"You should know. You're the only one who hasn't tortured me. And… And I know that you haven't hurt Hermione. Ginny told me, some time ago. So, you should know."
Snape's brow furrowed. "Know what?"
"Why you were really called here. Snape, he intends to kill you."
The former Potion master's eyes widened. Had Voldemort worked it out? That he wasn't keeping Hermione just because she was his so-called assigned companion? That he wasn't really loyal at all?
"Preposterous," Snape huffed. Best to keep the mask on, for now.
Harry shook his head. "No. It's because of the wand. The Elder Wand. It won't work right for him. It's because he hasn't won it. He's not the wand's master. He thinks it's you. Snape, he thinks, since you killed Dumbledore, that you are the real owner of the wand."
Here, Harry leaned forward, dropping his voice. Snape had to lean in, almost touching the cage, to hear what Harry said next.
"But I've had a lot of time to think. I've figured it out. It isn't you. It's Draco. He's the one that disarmed Dumbledore, remember? He's the real master of the Elder Wand!"
Snape leaned back, digesting this new information. "Why tell me, Potter?"
"Because… Because you haven't hurt Hermione."
Snape blinked, surprised. He opened his mouth, ready to say something-anything-but Harry shushed him.
"Do you hear that?"
Snape paused, straining his ears. He did hear something, and it sounded like… like hissing. Before he could turn, he heard something that sounded like words within the hissing. Suddenly, Potter yelled at him, "Watch out!"
Thankfully, Snape's feet were moving quicker than his mind-a rare thing, indeed. He dove to the left, barely feeling the graze of something sharp across his shoulder. He did some hissing of his own as he landed, feeling a warm liquid forming at the tear in his robes.
Voldemort, with Nagini standing ready to strike again, stood across the room from him.
"My apologies, Severus. But… I must really have that wand. Nagini," Voldemort said, ending with another stream of hisses.
Snape didn't need know Parseltongue to realize what those words meant. This was it for him. He was trapped, and Nagini was ready to finish it. Even if he went for his wand, it would be hopeless. Voldemort had the advantage on him, given his injured shoulder. He would be much quicker.
He thought of Hermione, picturing her sweet, smiling face. And he thought of Lily, the flash of her hair in the sun and in her eyes. He could leave this world with at least some measure of peace.
Nagini struck, but she did not hit her mark. Just before she did, two pops indicative of apparition sounded by Snape's huddled form. He looked up to see Neville Longbottom, holding the Sword of Gryffindor of all things, and Hermione standing over him. Neville swung the sword as Hermione moved to wrap Snape's uninjured arm around her shoulders. Nagini's head flew free of her body, which collapsed, limp, to the floor. Voldemort unleased an unearthly screech, but it was cut short as the three of them-Neville, and Hermione side-alonging Snape-apparated away.