When Hermione Fights

Doubt and Jealousy

Doubt and Jealousy

Sleep wasn't in store for me that night. I was shocked by myself and what I had done. In my mind's eye, I could see the memories played back, again and again, about Snape being so close to me. What had happened there?

I hadn't really done this, right? I mean, did I actually accept money from a man with whom I had sex with in a freely accessible place! And it still gets worse! The most brutal fact of the story was that the man was my professor and he had no idea who he had fucked with so little restraint! Did I have a talent for dragging myself into stupid situations, or what? The answer to that question is yes. Of course, now I'm worrying; wouldn't Snape have recognized me, since my facial features weren't changed at all? But then I remembered that I also had a hefty amount of makeup on my face. This reassured me. When I became Minna, I always had heavily accentuated eyes with a lot of mascara and dared to put on a deep red lipstick. Actually, it wasn't that surprising that he thought I was part of the oldest profession in the world.

Also, the thought struck me that almost no one recognized the Dumbledore brothers as what they were: close relatives. Except if you were like me and targeted them with this knowledge. And I was sure that though the professor had wondered much about who or what I was, Minna couldn't be connected to Hermione. Then I realised again that I had submitted to his demand for a quickie, but how could I have gotten out of this thing differently without him turning into a rabid dog, picking up my track and hunting me?! For Snape was a distrustful son of a bitch, who wouldn't give up quickly when he smelled a rat. So I had given him what he wanted instead.

How he had pushed me against the wall... Heaven... I was writhing in my bed. What was bothering me that much? What was the cause? I tried to analyse that, even so I thought I was close to the crux of the matter and I insisted on absolute honesty towards myself. I wouldn't lie to myself.

The sex shocked me because it was only about his satisfaction, so he had taken me without considering my own. That I had gotten an orgasm too wasn't due to his efforts to get me one, oh no, if he would've come before me, he would've ended it, cold as ice. His gestures and deeds in the alley had only been there to satisfy himself. That was probably the life and sex of a prostitute, but I wasn't used to it because I wasn't an easy girl, damn it! After all, Cedric, Victor, and Sirius had done everything they could that I would have the same pleasure as they did. But Snape, when I recalled it again, had just stimulated my breasts for his own pleasure, and when he fucked me with his finger, he had done this only to ensure enough moisture. Whether I had felt great pleasure or not had been secondary - after all, he'd paid for it.

The fact that I had been given an orgasm by him because of my perverse excitement and my tainted imagination might have puzzled even him, which is why I was quite certain that I was the most to blame for his request to owl me. On the other hand, I was glad that only that had happened. In the spheres I was moving in at the moment, getting money for sex was truly not the worst. I could have been raped at any time, no one would've cared. My wallowing in my self-pity was a great luxury because in principle nothing bad had happened. So why have a whinge? After all, he had paid for it. Argh, that seemed to bother me the most. Weird, isn't it?

Oh, I had to come to terms with myself quickly, because I would have to face Sirius soon, and he would surely want to know what the Twins and I had done last night. My goddess, all of us had done somebody, my damn cynicism was making another appearance. I buried my face in my pillow, groaning, because I couldn't and I still wouldn't believe it.

There was a slight throbbing behind my temples. Mental note to myself: a hangover cure should be added to my assortment of stocked potions. One should be prepared for any situation because the booze paid for by Snape gave me a wicked hangover. Nice that I could already plan again, especially taking into account my inner turmoil, even if it was only a passing thought of what I would brew next in my laboratory. When I thought about it, I should be really proud of myself that I had been able to withstand the mental attacks.