Bitten Part2
Challenge: Vampire
Team: spy for the Death Eaters
Characters: SS/HG
Rating:NC-17
Warnings:Smutty vampy stuff.
Wordcount:100 x 13
A/N: Usual disclaimers apply. Way past halloween, sorry. Unbeta'd - so apologies in advance for any typos
First part may be found at the link below.
Bitten Part 1
‘Glad you could join us, Severus.’ Minerva nodded curtly.
Severus checked for sarcasm, but found none. ‘I felt I should show my face.’
He hadn’t attended dinner in several weeks, but since he’d never eat again, what the hell? Soon, he was gamely tucking into the pile of pie, mash and peas that appeared before him, determined to finish the lot even though his stomach was churning. His empty plate was quickly whisked away and replaced with his favourite sticky-toffee pudding.
Do the elves suspect something…?
Shrugging, he attacked with gusto, scarfing down a second helping for old-times’ sake.
~*~
Whilst hoping Snape would change his mind, Hermione was preparing for the worst.
‘Just as well I stocked up at the weekend,’ she grumbled, warming a unit of blood.
Vile. Draining Snape would be vile. If the poison didn’t annihilate her before completing the transformation (and assuming Snape survived it), they might still both be in trouble. There were just too many variables: Hermione hadn’t even attempted this with a healthy human before-had no real point of reference. She was flying on instinct, and that wasn’t good enough. A dead Snape wouldn’t do her or her soul any favours.
~*~
Doubt there’s anything in the library that might help, though.
Hermione thoughtfully licked a stray drop of O neg. from her lips as she glided to the bedroom. The sight of a house-elf laying out a white robe on the bed brought her up short. She leant on the doorframe, arms folded, and raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘For the sacrificial lamb, no doubt?’ she asked.
The little creature was unfazed. ‘Please to be being gentle with Headmaster Snape, Miss Hermyvamp,’ he squeaked before disappearing.
Trust the elves to know. They always knew.
Hermione changed quickly, gathered her supplies and vanished.
~*~
Uncorking the fifty-year-old Ogden’s he’d been saving for a special occasion, Severus sniffed appreciatively and poured himself a hefty measure. Drinking to his imminent demise, he had to concede, was about as special as it was going to get.
The fire beckoned invitingly, promising some respite for the bone-numbing chill in his marrow. Warming himself, Severus peered at the blurry image in the mirror above the mantel and raised his glass in silent salute. Not something he’d miss, his reflection.
Wearily, he fell into his chair to await his fate. At eight o’clock sharp, Death rapped softly at his door.
~*~
‘I thought you might have fled the castle,’ said Severus, eyes fixed on his whisky.
‘You’d have hunted me down if I’d tried that.’
He didn’t bother denying it.
‘I take it you haven’t changed your mind, sir.’
‘No.’ Severus raised his eyes then, and almost wished he hadn’t. Whatever charm Granger used to give her skin a natural-looking colouring during the day had been dispelled. She was like a marble statue: white, bloodless. Indeed, it was difficult to discern where her robe ended and her body began.
Her lips twisted in a cruel smile. ‘What were you expecting? Sparkles?’
~*~
‘Finish your drink,’ Hermione said, lowering herself into the chair opposite. ‘I’m in no hurry.’ She folded her hands demurely in her lap, regarding him. ‘Are you really sure you want this? It’s still not too late-’
‘The venom has reached my optic nerves, Miss Granger,’ Severus interrupted. ‘Time is of the essence.’
‘Time…,’ Hermione murmured, ‘… is a relative concept, as you will soon discover if you remain on this path.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s a lonely existence. You should know that. My… unusual situation makes me an outcast-’
‘My heart bleeds for you.’ Severus plonked his glass down. ‘I’m ready.’
~*~
‘A fateful choice of words...’ Hermione smiled fully, baring her fangs. ‘Last chance, Snape.’
She noted the sharp intake of breath with no small satisfaction and nodded. ‘Ye-es… I sense a modicum of doubt.’
Watching his face for any signs of hesitation, Hermione rose up and took a few, slow steps towards him. ‘Put your wand where I can see it.’
Severus relinquished his wand without complaint, though Hermione’s heightened senses did detect a hint of reluctance.
‘Good. Now, a word of warning: once we start this, I won’t be able to stop. Show fear, and I will kill you.’
~*~
‘I understand.’ Severus had stared down death before, known piss-inducing terror and survived. He could do so again. ‘Please. Proceed.’
He watched her eyelids droop, shoulders slumping in resignation…
‘Very well, then…
Hermione’s eyes opened, full of a darkness Nagini had not possessed, devoid of all humanity, but, oh, their pull was irresistible.
'Come to me, mortal!'
His body lurched forwards like a rag doll, feet dragging uselessly behind. Only the force of her will kept him from falling to his knees.
Pale hands reached to untie his cravat and gently pry loose his bandages, leaving his ravaged throat exposed.
~*~
It was a heady feeling, this… Veela-like control over the helpless man, prey, supplicant-whatever the hell he was-dangling, paralysed and speechless in her Thrall, but the sight of mottled, weeping scar tissue rather spoiled the moment.
Corrupt blood, arteries reeking of venom and booze.
Lovely.
She ought to snap his neck for his impertinence, but instead, she let him find his feet.
‘Troublesome man,’ Hermione muttered, tracing a fingernail over the unblemished skin, seeking a pulse. ‘So pale, no one will notice the difference.’
Pale, but burning hot. The fire of the living. How quickly she’d forgotten it.
~*~
‘Your heart is beating much too slowly, human,’ Hermione whispered. Dull, sluggish... ‘And I’ll have to drain you fast. You’re not a morsel I would wish to savour.’
Severus’ eyes blazed with helpless fury as Hermione attacked the fastenings of his robe. ‘Now, now, don’t be cross,’ she cooed as it fell to the floor. ‘Trust me. It’s easier this way… But, perhaps it might be better if… Yes, I think it might… ’ Hermione took a small step backwards. ‘You do it, Snape. Take off your clothes for me-all of them-like the good, obedient little soul that you are...’
~*~
‘You’ll thank me later…’ Hermione’s lips quirked in amusement as Severus struggled to prevent his hands from obeying. ‘… when your body purges itself. My Sire let me wallow, starving, in my own filth-’ She shuddered. ‘Anyway, this won’t be pleasant.’
She maintained eye-contact even as grey underpants slid over protruding hip-bones and Severus’ hands stilled at his sides, his anger palpable. Instinct drew her towards a heart quickened by adrenalin. Fascination with his skin’s searing heat drew her palm to his chest.
Severus inhaled a long, shuddering breath and closed his eyes.
‘Yes, mortal. Death is a cold, cold thing.’
~*~
His knees buckled, but Hermione caught him deftly, anchoring his waist with her free arm. Body to body, Severus’ life energy engulfed her senses; she wanted to crawl into it: claim it. Destroy it. A droplet of sweat on his chest proved too much to resist. It sizzled, boiling on her tongue like hot champagne.
Becoming vaguely aware of a huff of air as her fingertips inadvertently strayed over his left nipple, Hermione looked up to see hooded eyes gazing back at her, lips parted in a half-smile.
‘You hide your fear well,’ she murmured, her hand wandering ever lower.
~*~
The dark, coiling thing in the pit of her abdomen was becoming more insistent, the instinct to feed warring with common sense to leave off. But he was so deliciously hot: so ripe for the picking.
Almost ripe for the picking...
Severus could only exhale raggedly as her fingers sought and enveloped the blistering heat of his cock.
Much better…
Then the rush was upon her as Severus’ erection surged under her touch, his heart beating wildly.
‘Come for me… Severus…’
Unable to hold back any longer, Hermione fell upon Severus' throat, his life’s essence spilling, unheeded, over her fist.
TBC
Team: spy for the Death Eaters
Characters: SS/HG
Rating:NC-17
Warnings:Smutty vampy stuff.
Wordcount:100 x 13
A/N: Usual disclaimers apply. Way past halloween, sorry. Unbeta'd - so apologies in advance for any typos
First part may be found at the link below.
Bitten Part 1
‘Glad you could join us, Severus.’ Minerva nodded curtly.
Severus checked for sarcasm, but found none. ‘I felt I should show my face.’
He hadn’t attended dinner in several weeks, but since he’d never eat again, what the hell? Soon, he was gamely tucking into the pile of pie, mash and peas that appeared before him, determined to finish the lot even though his stomach was churning. His empty plate was quickly whisked away and replaced with his favourite sticky-toffee pudding.
Do the elves suspect something…?
Shrugging, he attacked with gusto, scarfing down a second helping for old-times’ sake.
~*~
Whilst hoping Snape would change his mind, Hermione was preparing for the worst.
‘Just as well I stocked up at the weekend,’ she grumbled, warming a unit of blood.
Vile. Draining Snape would be vile. If the poison didn’t annihilate her before completing the transformation (and assuming Snape survived it), they might still both be in trouble. There were just too many variables: Hermione hadn’t even attempted this with a healthy human before-had no real point of reference. She was flying on instinct, and that wasn’t good enough. A dead Snape wouldn’t do her or her soul any favours.
~*~
Doubt there’s anything in the library that might help, though.
Hermione thoughtfully licked a stray drop of O neg. from her lips as she glided to the bedroom. The sight of a house-elf laying out a white robe on the bed brought her up short. She leant on the doorframe, arms folded, and raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘For the sacrificial lamb, no doubt?’ she asked.
The little creature was unfazed. ‘Please to be being gentle with Headmaster Snape, Miss Hermyvamp,’ he squeaked before disappearing.
Trust the elves to know. They always knew.
Hermione changed quickly, gathered her supplies and vanished.
~*~
Uncorking the fifty-year-old Ogden’s he’d been saving for a special occasion, Severus sniffed appreciatively and poured himself a hefty measure. Drinking to his imminent demise, he had to concede, was about as special as it was going to get.
The fire beckoned invitingly, promising some respite for the bone-numbing chill in his marrow. Warming himself, Severus peered at the blurry image in the mirror above the mantel and raised his glass in silent salute. Not something he’d miss, his reflection.
Wearily, he fell into his chair to await his fate. At eight o’clock sharp, Death rapped softly at his door.
~*~
‘I thought you might have fled the castle,’ said Severus, eyes fixed on his whisky.
‘You’d have hunted me down if I’d tried that.’
He didn’t bother denying it.
‘I take it you haven’t changed your mind, sir.’
‘No.’ Severus raised his eyes then, and almost wished he hadn’t. Whatever charm Granger used to give her skin a natural-looking colouring during the day had been dispelled. She was like a marble statue: white, bloodless. Indeed, it was difficult to discern where her robe ended and her body began.
Her lips twisted in a cruel smile. ‘What were you expecting? Sparkles?’
~*~
‘Finish your drink,’ Hermione said, lowering herself into the chair opposite. ‘I’m in no hurry.’ She folded her hands demurely in her lap, regarding him. ‘Are you really sure you want this? It’s still not too late-’
‘The venom has reached my optic nerves, Miss Granger,’ Severus interrupted. ‘Time is of the essence.’
‘Time…,’ Hermione murmured, ‘… is a relative concept, as you will soon discover if you remain on this path.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s a lonely existence. You should know that. My… unusual situation makes me an outcast-’
‘My heart bleeds for you.’ Severus plonked his glass down. ‘I’m ready.’
~*~
‘A fateful choice of words...’ Hermione smiled fully, baring her fangs. ‘Last chance, Snape.’
She noted the sharp intake of breath with no small satisfaction and nodded. ‘Ye-es… I sense a modicum of doubt.’
Watching his face for any signs of hesitation, Hermione rose up and took a few, slow steps towards him. ‘Put your wand where I can see it.’
Severus relinquished his wand without complaint, though Hermione’s heightened senses did detect a hint of reluctance.
‘Good. Now, a word of warning: once we start this, I won’t be able to stop. Show fear, and I will kill you.’
~*~
‘I understand.’ Severus had stared down death before, known piss-inducing terror and survived. He could do so again. ‘Please. Proceed.’
He watched her eyelids droop, shoulders slumping in resignation…
‘Very well, then…
Hermione’s eyes opened, full of a darkness Nagini had not possessed, devoid of all humanity, but, oh, their pull was irresistible.
'Come to me, mortal!'
His body lurched forwards like a rag doll, feet dragging uselessly behind. Only the force of her will kept him from falling to his knees.
Pale hands reached to untie his cravat and gently pry loose his bandages, leaving his ravaged throat exposed.
~*~
It was a heady feeling, this… Veela-like control over the helpless man, prey, supplicant-whatever the hell he was-dangling, paralysed and speechless in her Thrall, but the sight of mottled, weeping scar tissue rather spoiled the moment.
Corrupt blood, arteries reeking of venom and booze.
Lovely.
She ought to snap his neck for his impertinence, but instead, she let him find his feet.
‘Troublesome man,’ Hermione muttered, tracing a fingernail over the unblemished skin, seeking a pulse. ‘So pale, no one will notice the difference.’
Pale, but burning hot. The fire of the living. How quickly she’d forgotten it.
~*~
‘Your heart is beating much too slowly, human,’ Hermione whispered. Dull, sluggish... ‘And I’ll have to drain you fast. You’re not a morsel I would wish to savour.’
Severus’ eyes blazed with helpless fury as Hermione attacked the fastenings of his robe. ‘Now, now, don’t be cross,’ she cooed as it fell to the floor. ‘Trust me. It’s easier this way… But, perhaps it might be better if… Yes, I think it might… ’ Hermione took a small step backwards. ‘You do it, Snape. Take off your clothes for me-all of them-like the good, obedient little soul that you are...’
~*~
‘You’ll thank me later…’ Hermione’s lips quirked in amusement as Severus struggled to prevent his hands from obeying. ‘… when your body purges itself. My Sire let me wallow, starving, in my own filth-’ She shuddered. ‘Anyway, this won’t be pleasant.’
She maintained eye-contact even as grey underpants slid over protruding hip-bones and Severus’ hands stilled at his sides, his anger palpable. Instinct drew her towards a heart quickened by adrenalin. Fascination with his skin’s searing heat drew her palm to his chest.
Severus inhaled a long, shuddering breath and closed his eyes.
‘Yes, mortal. Death is a cold, cold thing.’
~*~
His knees buckled, but Hermione caught him deftly, anchoring his waist with her free arm. Body to body, Severus’ life energy engulfed her senses; she wanted to crawl into it: claim it. Destroy it. A droplet of sweat on his chest proved too much to resist. It sizzled, boiling on her tongue like hot champagne.
Becoming vaguely aware of a huff of air as her fingertips inadvertently strayed over his left nipple, Hermione looked up to see hooded eyes gazing back at her, lips parted in a half-smile.
‘You hide your fear well,’ she murmured, her hand wandering ever lower.
~*~
The dark, coiling thing in the pit of her abdomen was becoming more insistent, the instinct to feed warring with common sense to leave off. But he was so deliciously hot: so ripe for the picking.
Almost ripe for the picking...
Severus could only exhale raggedly as her fingers sought and enveloped the blistering heat of his cock.
Much better…
Then the rush was upon her as Severus’ erection surged under her touch, his heart beating wildly.
‘Come for me… Severus…’
Unable to hold back any longer, Hermione fell upon Severus' throat, his life’s essence spilling, unheeded, over her fist.
TBC