(no subject)
Title: A Dark Encounter (Part 2)
Team Name: Death Eaters, naturally...
Word Count: 300 more
Rating: It's going to be somewhere between R and NC-17
Challenge: Dark!Hermione
Author's Notes: 300 more... and counting. I think tomorrow's post will be about 600-700. Talk about letting the fic run away with you...
PART 1
She awoke in the middle of the night, a cool breeze tickling the soles of her bare feet. She glanced to her right, noticing the open bay window opposite her four poster. The full moonlight was streaming in through the aperture, the curtains lapping lightly in the breeze. She sat up, surveying the room around her quickly─ she did not remember opening the window before turning in.
At the reassurance of an empty room and the knowledge that she was, in fact, alone, she rose from the bed and shut the windows, locking them in place.
PART 2
It was not until she reached the shelter of her maple four poster that she noticed her attire was not as it was when had gone to sleep only hours before. She was wrapped in a single, sheer length of fabric that was surely made of something akin to silk. The material was unnaturally long and wrapped around her body like an ancient Roman tunic. She stared through the thin material and inhaled sharply when she noticed that she had, somehow, been divested of her undergarments at some point during the night.
That was when she noticed it─ the presence.
PART 3
She could not understand how she had missed it before, for, now, it was everywhere. She could hear dark, tantalizing whispers, but could not decipher what they were saying or where they were coming from. She paused, listening hard. The whispers were coming from everywhere. Impossible...
A dark shadow in the corner─ gone.
A movement somewhere to her left─ no more.
A feeling that someone was standing behind her, breathing roughly in her ear─ vanished before she could turn her head.
“Who are you?” she whispered to the darkness.
Nothing.
“Who the fuck are you!” she shouted, distressed.
PART 4
“I am the father,” the voice whispered in her ear.
She turned her head quickly, missing the source of the voice once more. His quickness astounded her.
The voice continued, “I am the giver of eternal life.”
She glanced around the room desperately, but to no avail. The voice was echoing around her, appearing to issue from the very walls themselves.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I wish to help you, Hermione. I wish to give you the power to assist your friends in the fight against the Dark Lord.”
The voice paused, then continued at a mere whisper.
PART 5
“I can show you what it is like to laugh in the face of death... to have no fear... to live forever.”
She shut her eyes, allowing the power of the voice to wash over her. “Show me.”
She felt as if she were floating through the air. The silk tunic was grazing her calves and hips suggestively, eliciting soft whimpers from her partially opened lips.
“Hermione,” the voice whispered into her mouth.
She opened her eyes and saw the onyx orbs of her former Potions Master staring at her with an intensity unmatched by any she had every experienced.
PART 6
In her mind, she knew she should have been frightened. She waited for her anxiety to take over, for fear to spring her into defensive action. Those thoughts quickly slipped away as she stared, transfixed, into Severus Snape's eyes.
She could sense him in her mind, but she did not care. She allowed him full access to her thoughts, her feelings, her desires...
He spoke to her without opening his mouth, his voice as intense within her head as it had been without.
'Tell me, Hermione. Tell me you want this. Tell me what it is you wish of me.'
PART 7
“I want you,” she whispered.
He cupped her face in his left hand, his right cradling her, his fingers entangled in her hair.
“So be it.”
His pupils narrowed and the black circles of his eyes expanded, eclipsing the whites completely. The color faded gradually, transforming into a soft, clear blue.
In a flash his lips were on her neck, tasting her, delicately for a moment, before he sunk his teeth into her flesh.
A thousand emotions coursed through her body. She felt, not afraid, but impassioned. Her back arched upward awkwardly, her torso pulling skyward, screaming for the ceiling.
PART 8
She felt the tranquilizing sensation of hot blood trickling down her neck, touching her collarbone and dripping off her shoulder and down to the world below them.
As her blood left her she felt her body slacken, her heartbeat growing weaker by the moment.
She experienced a fleeting moment of nervousness as she realized what she was about to give to her posessor. Her hand, which had been resting gently on Severus' back, tightened into a fist, pulling at the woolen material of his robes.
He let go of her neck, shifting his mouth to within centimeters of her ear.
PART 9
She could feel his lips brush her lobe lightly as he spoke, “Relax, my love.”
His voice was like creamy hot chocolate on a cold winter's day, warming her to the core, calming her. She let her eyelids flutter shut and relaxed her fingers. He returned his attentions to her neck.
Moments later she felt her body descending. He was lowering her to the bed. He rolled up his robe sleeve ─ the one masking his Dark Mark ─ and unbuttoned his shirt cuff. He peeled back the raven material and raised his arm above her, unsheathing his wand with his other.
Team Name: Death Eaters, naturally...
Word Count: 300 more
Rating: It's going to be somewhere between R and NC-17
Challenge: Dark!Hermione
Author's Notes: 300 more... and counting. I think tomorrow's post will be about 600-700. Talk about letting the fic run away with you...
PART 1
She awoke in the middle of the night, a cool breeze tickling the soles of her bare feet. She glanced to her right, noticing the open bay window opposite her four poster. The full moonlight was streaming in through the aperture, the curtains lapping lightly in the breeze. She sat up, surveying the room around her quickly─ she did not remember opening the window before turning in.
At the reassurance of an empty room and the knowledge that she was, in fact, alone, she rose from the bed and shut the windows, locking them in place.
PART 2
It was not until she reached the shelter of her maple four poster that she noticed her attire was not as it was when had gone to sleep only hours before. She was wrapped in a single, sheer length of fabric that was surely made of something akin to silk. The material was unnaturally long and wrapped around her body like an ancient Roman tunic. She stared through the thin material and inhaled sharply when she noticed that she had, somehow, been divested of her undergarments at some point during the night.
That was when she noticed it─ the presence.
PART 3
She could not understand how she had missed it before, for, now, it was everywhere. She could hear dark, tantalizing whispers, but could not decipher what they were saying or where they were coming from. She paused, listening hard. The whispers were coming from everywhere. Impossible...
A dark shadow in the corner─ gone.
A movement somewhere to her left─ no more.
A feeling that someone was standing behind her, breathing roughly in her ear─ vanished before she could turn her head.
“Who are you?” she whispered to the darkness.
Nothing.
“Who the fuck are you!” she shouted, distressed.
PART 4
“I am the father,” the voice whispered in her ear.
She turned her head quickly, missing the source of the voice once more. His quickness astounded her.
The voice continued, “I am the giver of eternal life.”
She glanced around the room desperately, but to no avail. The voice was echoing around her, appearing to issue from the very walls themselves.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I wish to help you, Hermione. I wish to give you the power to assist your friends in the fight against the Dark Lord.”
The voice paused, then continued at a mere whisper.
PART 5
“I can show you what it is like to laugh in the face of death... to have no fear... to live forever.”
She shut her eyes, allowing the power of the voice to wash over her. “Show me.”
She felt as if she were floating through the air. The silk tunic was grazing her calves and hips suggestively, eliciting soft whimpers from her partially opened lips.
“Hermione,” the voice whispered into her mouth.
She opened her eyes and saw the onyx orbs of her former Potions Master staring at her with an intensity unmatched by any she had every experienced.
PART 6
In her mind, she knew she should have been frightened. She waited for her anxiety to take over, for fear to spring her into defensive action. Those thoughts quickly slipped away as she stared, transfixed, into Severus Snape's eyes.
She could sense him in her mind, but she did not care. She allowed him full access to her thoughts, her feelings, her desires...
He spoke to her without opening his mouth, his voice as intense within her head as it had been without.
'Tell me, Hermione. Tell me you want this. Tell me what it is you wish of me.'
PART 7
“I want you,” she whispered.
He cupped her face in his left hand, his right cradling her, his fingers entangled in her hair.
“So be it.”
His pupils narrowed and the black circles of his eyes expanded, eclipsing the whites completely. The color faded gradually, transforming into a soft, clear blue.
In a flash his lips were on her neck, tasting her, delicately for a moment, before he sunk his teeth into her flesh.
A thousand emotions coursed through her body. She felt, not afraid, but impassioned. Her back arched upward awkwardly, her torso pulling skyward, screaming for the ceiling.
PART 8
She felt the tranquilizing sensation of hot blood trickling down her neck, touching her collarbone and dripping off her shoulder and down to the world below them.
As her blood left her she felt her body slacken, her heartbeat growing weaker by the moment.
She experienced a fleeting moment of nervousness as she realized what she was about to give to her posessor. Her hand, which had been resting gently on Severus' back, tightened into a fist, pulling at the woolen material of his robes.
He let go of her neck, shifting his mouth to within centimeters of her ear.
PART 9
She could feel his lips brush her lobe lightly as he spoke, “Relax, my love.”
His voice was like creamy hot chocolate on a cold winter's day, warming her to the core, calming her. She let her eyelids flutter shut and relaxed her fingers. He returned his attentions to her neck.
Moments later she felt her body descending. He was lowering her to the bed. He rolled up his robe sleeve ─ the one masking his Dark Mark ─ and unbuttoned his shirt cuff. He peeled back the raven material and raised his arm above her, unsheathing his wand with his other.