enchantement - SOULBOUND I̲̅ || SS/HG ✔️

64. Cursed

Anger and anticipation rose as Severus waited, jaw clenched - sitting on the verge of his chair - for the woman who used to give out the weakest gasps and softest of moans while his hips waves unceremoniously against her willing form. There were no accurate words to describe the feeling of betrayal and utter disgust as she battled the spell, her shoulders shrugging the burning away, her lips quivering as the magic reached her mind, banishing the barrier she had set on the truth. Her eyes were pleading, tears forming, her gaze glazed by the ache in her heart. It was the first time he detected such distress from the witch, her shaking hand as she gripped the edge of her seat unable to resist the pull that bonded his anticipating words upon her own truth.

Within months they had become far more acquainted, and Severus had hoped that with time their relationship could have progressed for more than nightly meetings under his bedsheets. As his eyes bore into hers, his heart shrivelled in his chest knowing that whatever feeling and emotion she surged from her simple presence needed to be placed at bay. Time had a strange way of meddling with someone's life and heart, altering, flipping with the most rapid and violent of twists his future. He had never questioned the undeniable attraction towards Hermione, her soothing voice and enchanting personality had taken a toll on him. Exhaling as much air as he could, feeling his agitated lungs, Severus knew he had neglected Seraphina, turning his back to her the instant his lips had graced the Gryffindor, a silent vow to fidelity. He had been surprised by the simplicity to forget and succumb to their new growing affaire. Deep down, in the farthest and darkest corner of his heart, he regretted the cold shoulder he had given to the divination teacher, after all, she had been the first woman in years to worship his slashed body with long languish kisses, pleasuring him before her own release.

Fighting the pertinent voice in his mind that bellowed him to poise menacingly, frighten her into revealing the truth - although his mind was now at his mercy. "Who are you Seraphina? What do you have to do with Hermione's presence in this timeline?"

A tearing cry emanated from her mouth, bloodied lips moving without a sound coming from her sore throat - as if her body responded freely while the last remnants of control she had upon herself held the truth from reaching the tip of her tongue. "Severus, please," she begged, knowing that she couldn't last much longer, his growing strength infecting the potency of the spell.

She was doomed, and while her body soon froze, her subconscious mind retracting - the spell taking over completely - Severus knew he was finally going to find out the scenario behind the play.

"For the last time, who are you?"

Pupils dilated and still figure, she answered plainly, "my name is Seraphina Ravensun, I'm a witch and freed from the venom of vampirism. My family was murdered before my eyes by Tom Riddle the night he had decided to split his soul and created his Horcruxes. My sister was raped and eaten alive, her flesh tearing before my eyes while she begged me to save her, but I was a prisoner of my own body, slave to the same spell you have placed upon me. Being the only survivor, I have isolated myself from the world, hiding from plain sight in a forest north from here. Yet Riddle wasn't done with me and ordered my execution. One morning while I was out hunting for food a novice vampire attacked me, foreign to the notion of transmitting his disease through his bite. Thinking he had accomplished his deed he left me battling for my life. Since I have searched countless ways to reverse the curse that had tainted my pureblood until I found..."

Her voice trailed off, the full moon that graced the sky was reflected through her jet eyes, her pale skin illuminating the induced twilight of his chambers. Severus was trembling in fury and fright, the revelation of her true identity equally startling and confusing him. He didn't need to hear it from her lips to understand the loathing that nestled in her heart.