The Love Lagoon: Snamione Edition

Ten

Severus

He was fighting a losing battle even as the storm raged around the island. Was he really such a cold, callous bastard that he didn't give a damn about anyone else? Yes, of course it is, you stupid idiot! You know you don't want to admit that ever since she filled out her sixth year, you have wanted her. But he didn't wanted to go into that bedroom and apologize to her.

He paced about the cave, and wanted to leave to go for a hike, a random, meaningless fuck in Knockturn Alley, anything to get away from her. The insufferable know it all with her intoxicating hazel brown eyes, and young, lithe body he had restrained himself from touching. Was her skin just as soft as he imagined it? He knew that she was no virgin, she had been married once before. Unless, her ginger idiot had failed in that department as well as every other area of his life. She was divorced, but still, he imagined that she had no wish to get involved with anyone else after her divorce officially finalized.

He strengthened the protective enchantments around the cave, and tucked his wand in his shorts. He sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. His hair was really getting too damn long. He looked like a black haired Lucius Malfoy, so he was a long haired gargoyle. Just great. He went into the bathroom, and found the mirror. Yep, time for a shave, he loathed facial hair, always had, because of his abusive prick of a father. His father had looked like a disgusting vagrant one finds in the London Underground begging for change. He took out his pocket knife, and shaved his face carefully. 

When that was done, he rinsed off, and cursed at the knick on his chin. He licked his finger, and put pressure on it. He wandlessly used the countercurse to sectemsempra. The little cut healed, and didn't leave a scar. Good. He didn't want his ugly mug scarred up more than the rest of his body.

He undressed and looked over the rest of him. Yeah, if women ignored his face, he supposed his body was appealing, but until he became stranded on this island, he had been quite self conscious. It was one of the reasons he covered himself from top to bottom. He still had the Dark Mark on his left forearm, and even though he looked tan now, he would never be able to tan completely, because the residual dark magic in the spell laid into the tattoo itself would always leech a minute amount of life force from his body.

He brushed out his hair, and debated on cutting it back to his shoulders. He scowled at the mirror. "Are you ready to get in that bedroom and toss your pride out the window of the cave you selfish bastard?"

He chuckled bitterly, "Yeah, I thought so. You're just a horny old perv who wants her because she is the only trim around for miles. Go apologize to her at least."

With that decision in mind, he went into the bedroom, and he heard Hermione crying. He had no idea why, but the sound of her crying tore at his heart. Why was he feeling this? He had never felt this ashamed about his actions ever since Lily refused to forgive him. He had camped out beside Gryffindor Tower for two weeks, and even though the Fat Lady portrait took pity on him, she kept saying that she could not admit him, because of school policy.

Hermione's hair was spilled over the pillows like a chestnut halo, and in the light of day, he knew that the sun had caused her to have the faintest hint of blonde streaks in her wavy hair. She shifted, and in the cool lighting of the cave, her naked body was revealed. He longed to touch her, the need, the...desire had become almost unbearable. Her breathing was shaky as she slept fitfully.

But then she began to jerk, and cry, "N-No....Severus no...Please, please don't kill me...I love you!"

She screamed, and she looked about the cave, scared. He went to her, and she clung to him, burying her face in his chest. "I'm here, Hermione. What's wrong?"