Special Delivery For: istalksnape Title : The Predator Author/Artist:ellie_kat89 Recipient's LJ name:istalksnape Rating: NC17 Pairing(s): Sirius/Hermione Word Count: 5595 Warnings (if any): Dark! Sirius, dub con, bondage, masturbation, general creepiness, magic manipulating sex, some dirty talk, unhappy ending, AU Summary: Sirius grinned again, the smile dangerous, hungry, and predatory. “I came back from the dead, I am afforded a few tricks up my sleeve to help me get what I want.” Authors notes: For istalksnape who asked for collarbones, lust, dub con, mention of Muggle items, light bondage, unhappiness, dark characters, and partially clothed sex; I’ve never really written anything quite this dark before so I hope that you enjoy your fic :). The lyrics at the beginning are from Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace, while the lyrics at the end are from Closer by Kings of Leon. Thank you to my beta S for being the best ;).
The Predator
I can't escape this hell So many times I’ve tried But I’m still caged inside Somebody get me through this nightmare I can't control myself
So what if you can see the darkest side of me? No one will ever change this animal I have become Help me believe it's not the real me Somebody help me tame this animal
Flames flickered around me, and yet I was not burned; instead I felt a pleasant tickling sensation as they touched me. I was in the Department of Mysteries, surrounded by my fellow researchers as we studied the Veil. I had been working with them for the past three years, trying to understand what the Veil was and how it worked.
The Veil was flapping hard in a wind that didn’t exist, reaching out towards the flames that skittered across the stone floor. I was standing so close to the Veil that I could almost reach out and touch it, feel its strong threads under my fingers. The flames were a deep, dark red, not your average flames; a few had black tips, I watched as one wrapped around my leg, tickling my calf before moving away from me. We found that the Veil held many mysteries, but this was a new, unsettling one. What had we done to make these flames appear?
Just as suddenly as the flames appeared from the Veil they were sucked back into it, leaving behind no traces of their presence besides our wide, frightened eyes. The Veil slowly stilled and then didn’t move at all for several long moments before it began to ripple softly, stirred by an unseen force.
I heard a nervous, slightly hysterical laugh from behind me and I turned, my eyes settling on Helga Jones, her normally cool blue eyes wild with fright. I watched her swallow, the muscles in her throat moving as she took a step backwards, her hands shaking. “Why d—did it do that?” she stuttered, her chest heaving as she gasped.
I shook my head, just as confused as she was; adrenaline was coursing through my system, making my tongue tingle, but I found myself much calmer than her. While the flames had been unusual and startling, they hadn’t harmed us. “It’s alright Helga, they’re gone now.” I approached the younger, blonde headed woman and pulled her into a gentle hug, patting her back as I guided us towards the door.
The rest of the researchers followed us out, most of them glancing back warily at the Veil as we hurried out the door. Once all of us were out and the door was closed securely behind us, we walked back to the offices. While my colleagues talked quietly amongst them, I was deep in thought. My duty for the past three years had been to study the ancient runes that were etched into the back of the archway. In three years I had only been able to translate half of it; it was long, hard work, and I was saddened by my lack of progress. From what I could tell so far it was a type of story. It was a tale of death and resurrection and of two men, one a fool and the other wise. The two were friends and when the wise man met his untimely death, the fool was devastated by the loss of his friend. The fool then devised a plan do get his friend back from the grips of death and resurrected him, but only to find that the man that returned, was no longer his friend. The wise man was now dark and twisted, not at all like the man the fool once knew. Surely there was an end to the story, but I just hadn’t gotten there yet.
I left for home as soon as I could, still feeling edgy from the event … the shivers that still traveled up my leg from where the flame had touched me made me feel uncomfortable; it felt as if someone or something was touching me, fingers trailing up and down my skin.
With a pop I Apparated to my little flat in Bromley; the sun had already gone down more than an hour ago and so it was almost pitch black inside. I groped around for a light switch, finally finding it and flipping it on. The sudden harsh light of the lamp blinded me for a moment. I blinked for several seconds, becoming accustomed to the light before I set down my bag and my coat, laying them across the couch.
My flat was small but tidy, the kitchen, decorated in white and blue, was to my left, separated from my living room by an archway. The front door opened into my living room and my bedroom door was almost directly across from me, slightly ajar. The loo was off a short hallway to the right, all by itself in a corner. All my walls were painted in a cheery, light yellow with white moldings around the doors, the ceilings, and the floors. My flat was decorated with lots of photographs, many of Harry, Ron, and myself, the three of us smiling and waving. There were also quite a few of my parents; my favourite was their wedding photo, the two of them shoving cake into their mouths, looking genuinely happy. Those photos of them always made my eyes grow misty … photos were all I had left of my mum and dad, they had been murdered by Death Eaters early in my seventh year.
Looking forward to slipping into bed and forgetting about this crazy night, I quickly heated myself a bowl of Mrs. Weasley’s leftover soup. After eating (and burning my tongue in my haste), I took a shower and then fell into bed; I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.
My dreams were vivid and strange that night. I slept through them, never waking once, but in the morning I remembered every stunning detail. In my dream there was a male figure above me, I could see his pale, lean arms but never his face, his face was always blurred and unrecognizable. The only detail of his face that I could see were his eyes; they were black like the fire that had touched my calf but when he slid inside of me, stretching me, his eyes flashed red. His hands touched me, burning hot hands that spread my thighs apart and massaged my breasts, plucking at my nipples until they hardened.
I awoke the next morning shaking and soaked with sweat; I was aroused, painfully so, and I nearly collapsed when I stood on my feet. My legs were wobbly and weak. I stumbled towards the loo and gasped when I saw my reflection. There was a dark purple bruise, a love bite, on my neck, partly covered by my thick hair; I brushed the brown tresses aside and touched it lightly, wincing at the soreness. My hand was shaking as I lowered it to my side.
This is crazy Hermione, this isn’t possible, you still must be dreaming, I thought to myself, concentrating on the air that I was pushing in and out of my lungs. Outside I was calm, but inside my mind was in near hysterics as I struggled to work through the confusion.
I hadn’t been with anyone in months, I hadn’t even dated, and I was always too busy with my work to bother with men. Not possible. It became my mantra as I walked back to my bedside and grabbed my wand from the nightstand; normally I wasn’t one for denial but this early in the morning, before I had my coffee, I couldn’t deal with it. I would deal with it later, but for now I would hide it from the world, and from myself.
Taking a deep breath, I hurried back to the loo and stopped in front of the mirror again, part of me hoping that the love bite would have miraculously disappeared in my absence … but it was still there. I touched the wand tip to my skin and muttered a healing spell, watching as the bruise disappeared, leaving behind pale skin. For now it was out of sight, and so it was also out of mind.
My arousal now gone, chased away by the strangeness of the love bite, I stepped into the shower and turned on the water; I washed quickly, scrubbing away the sweat from the night. But no matter how hard I washed, digging the washcloth into my skin until I was pink and sore, I still felt dirty. I could feel tears burning the back of my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks. My emotions were raw and right at the surface, ready to boil over at any moment. This day was going to be hard one, I just knew it.
After I was physically clean, I stood under the running water, letting it cascade down my back. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I pushed everything back, I would not think about anything else but my work today. The dream, the love bite, and the dirty icky feeling would be locked away in a deep, dark corner of my mind; a lot of things I didn’t want to think about were locked away in that corner: my parents and my failure at any romantic relationship that I had ever had were just two.
“I can do this,” I muttered aloud, my hands curling to fists, calling up some of that Gryffindor courage. “Just forget about it.” But even as I said it, the image of the fire, a deep red at the bottom and a midnight black at the tip, wrapping around my leg, appeared in my mind. And then, before I could stop it, I was remembering the dream, and it was like I was immersed in it; I wasn’t just remembering it, it was like I was living it. His black eyes were staring down into mine as he moved above me, positioning himself before sliding inside me. My legs were hooked over his shoulders and the mystery man was fucking me, making me scream with every deep, hard thrust. The desire ripped through me and suddenly the arousal was back, as strong as it ever was before. I gasped and my knees buckled, I grabbed at the slippery shower wall to stay upright.
I leaned back against the shower wall to further steady myself as zings of pleasure raced through my body, stealing my breath away; my fingers inched down my body seemingly on their own accord. I cupped my breasts, moaning as I circled my nipples with my fingertips. This can’t be normal. The thought flashed through my mind but it was quickly swept away by the fire the raged through me. My fingers ran down my torso and then in between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing firmly, my body sagging.
The world was spinning around me but it never stopped my fingers from moving, from slipping further down and thrusting inside. I came quickly, falling to me knees as my legs finally gave out, the water still running and the loo full of steam. I panted as I kneeled, my body shaking with pleasure.
****
Even though it was difficult I was able to maintain some semblance of normalcy at work that day. The dream always was on my mind though and more than once my cheeks would flush dark red as I remembered.
We still couldn’t understand why the Veil had reacted the way it had; the head of the department was talking to each of us who had been in that room that night, trying to figure out if one of us had done something to trigger the heatless flames. I spent the day carefully copying the intricate runes from the arch; it was slow, painstaking work, but I enjoyed unraveling the mystery of the Veil, it felt good to be a part of something like this. I wasn’t looking forward to leaving the Ministry tonight; Friday nights meant always dinner at the Weasleys and I was expected to come, like always. I loved the Weasleys, they, in many ways, were my family but I always felt out of place there now. I was the only the one that was still unmarried, even Charlie was married now, and his wife, Iulia, was expecting their first child. The Weasley home was now filled with the talk of children, and I loved each and every one of them like they were my own nieces and nephews, but I could no longer connect with the adults; unknowingly, they had left me behind.
When I let myself think about it, I could admit that I was unhappy and lonely; this life wasn’t the one I had imagined for myself. Ron and Harry would jokingly call me a workaholic but in the end it was true, and the truth cut me deep. Voldemort was vanquished, forever dead, and now, so many years later, I was unhappy. Tears ran down my face and I quickly swiped them away, I couldn’t be caught crying at work, it would be too embarrassing.
I glanced up at the clock on the wall and found that it was time for me to go, but I didn’t want to go to the Weasleys, I didn’t think I could handle it now.
I Apparated home and owled Molly, telling her that I was sick and that I didn’t want to risk getting any of the little ones sick too. That taken care of, and certain that she wouldn’t drop by tonight, I curled up on my couch and turned on the telly, finding an old Peter O’Toole movie to watch. I pulled the throw from the back of the couch over myself and closed my eyes, listening to the actors’ voices; I fell asleep that way, my flat filled with the sounds of Alec Guinness and Peter O’Toole.
When I woke up three hours later, I was disoriented by the darkness of my flat. Somehow the telly was now off even though I remembered it going when I slipped into slumber and the lamp was off too. Was there a power outage? No, the power was still on, I could see the lighted numbers on the digital clock from across the room. I held my breath and fished around for my wand, remembering that I had left it on the coffee table, but it wasn’t there anymore. I bit my lip, as the panic began to rise in my chest. There was someone in my flat, there had to be. I could see one of the Weasleys coming to check on me, but they would never turn off the light.
I stayed still, my muscles locked into place as I listened and I found I could hear breathing besides my own in the room; I concentrated and I decided it was somewhere across the room.
“I know there’s someone here,” I spoke aloud, my voice trembling only a little, I was set on not showing the intruder my fear.
Someone chuckled and then I was blinded as whoever it was turned the light back on. I blinked as my eyes adjusted and gasped at the figure before me. I blinked again, wondering if I wasn’t hallucinating because this just wasn’t possible … death was death, it was final, but still Sirius Black was sitting in my living room, his elbows resting on his knees.
“S—Sirius?”
He grinned, showing me his teeth, but didn’t reply as he stared at me, accessing me. A shiver of fear ran up my spine, something instinctual as his unnatural gaze never wavered from me. Sirius’ eyes were black, there was no difference between his iris and the black of his pupil, and looking into them made her feel uncomfortable.
“Hello Hermione,” he finally said, his head tilting to the side, “are you surprised to see me?”
My mouth opened as I struggled to say something, to grasp what was happening, but I couldn’t find the right words. Without my wand I felt defenseless, and those shivers of fear and apprehension were making me tremble. If the figure before me was just a figment of my imagination or Sirius Black was back from the dead, I knew, whatever it was, it was bad, very bad.
“Where’s my wand?” I asked, slowly sitting up, the throw falling to the floor.
He pulled it from his pocket and began to twirl it, teasing me with the sight of it. My brain working fast, fueled by my fear, I quickly decided to try to grab my wand. I needed a weapon, and my wand was the only thing I had. I lunged across the coffee table, my legs kicking against the couch to give me extra momentum. I crashed against the wood and swiped for my wand but he easily evaded me, laughing as my knee banged against the side of the table; tears sprang into my eyes and I gasped from the pain.
Suddenly, Sirius was on his feat, my wand still held tightly in his hand; he flipped me over and straightened me out, laying me across the coffee table so that my legs dangled over the edge. I fought and I kicked, but he was too strong and he quickly overpowered me. With a few whispered words I felt my hands pulled down and then tied with invisible ropes to the ornately carved legs of my coffee table.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed, struggling against my bonds, finding them tight and unyielding.
Sirius turned his pitch black eyes back to me and frowned. “I don’t know why you’re fighting me so much, Hermione. You wanted me to come back, to set you free.”
“You are talking gibberish,” I said through gritted teeth. “Get out of my flat immediately before the Ministry arrests you for impersonating a dead man and assault.”
“Impersonation?” He laughed again and ran his fingers across my cheek and touched a tangled piece of my hair, twirling it around his finger. “I am very much Sirius Black.” His eyes bored into mine and tried to look away but I found that I couldn’t. “You wanted me to come back. I’ve been watching you work on those runes for years, waiting until you reached the right one to release the spell. Only you could work out those runes, very few have the intelligence or the perseverance to work so long and so hard. I’m here now, Hermione, and I’m going to save you from the darkness.”
I swallowed hard and tried to make sense of what was going on. “Wha—what?”
“I’m going to make you fly, Hermione, I’m going to set you free; you flew this morning in the shower, when you fucked yourself silly, and during the night when you dreamt of me.” He reached out and touched my neck where the love bite had been, I shivered at his touch. “I gave you that love bite, I’m upset to see that it’s gone.”
My mind whirled and I gasped for breath as it began to dawn on me; this morning in the shower, hadn’t I thought that something felt off? And then the dream, it had felt so real, so beyond anything I had ever felt before. Even though a part of me still held onto the fact Sirius couldn’t have risen from the dead, I began to slowly accept that it was Sirius Black that had mysteriously appeared in my flat. Something I had done had brought him back, had sent him here.
“The fire ... from before, did that have to do with you?”
“You’re catching on quickly, Hermione,” Sirius spoke, his grin returning. “I like you tied up like that, all spread out and waiting,” he added, his eyes moving down my body.
The shivers of fear were back now and I swallowed hard; my heart had doubled its beating, and I had trouble concentrating on one thought at a time, so fast my mind was moving. I was able to focus on one thing long enough though: Sirius was dangerous; something that, in the end, wasn’t supposed to exist. He’d come back, but he wasn’t himself anymore.
“How is it possible that you’re here, right now? And why are you here, I still don’t understand ...” Even though I was scared and sore (my arms were starting to ache in the odd position they were in), my curiosity still made me want to know all the details; my quest for knowledge was limitless.
“Why do you think I’m here? I would have thought your dream would have answered that.”
The dream replayed through my mind, and suddenly the blurred face from before was replaced with Sirius’. The dream hadn’t faded, and I could remember everything with a startling clarity. It was so real, so erotic that I felt myself blush and grow wet. I whimpered and shifted on the table, my thighs rubbing together.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I whispered, my nipples growing hard under his gaze.
He laughed huskily, the sound of it sending sparks of thrill down my spine; oddly enough, the fear was still present, but it seemed to only add to the sudden arousal.
Sirius bent his head down to my ear, and the feeling of his warm breath against my neck made me moan. “I’m going to make you feel alive, Hermione. It’s been so very long since you’ve last felt alive, hasn’t it?”
I found myself nodding even though in my mind, I was screaming at myself to deny it … I wasn’t sure if I would like how he was going to make me feel alive.
“How are you making me feel this way?” I asked, my breathing embarrassingly heavy as the pleasure raced through my veins; it felt as if I was just short of an orgasm even though he had yet to touch me.
Sirius grinned again, the smile dangerous, hungry, and predatory. “I came back from the dead, I am afforded a few tricks up my sleeve to help me get what I want.”
I already knew the answer, but I had to ask it anyways: “And what is it that you want?”
“You.”
My breath caught in my chest, and I began to struggle harder against the invisible ropes that held me to the table even as heat pooled in my belly. I was terrified of him, of the whole situation, but at the same I wanted him more than I had ever wanted anything or anyone in my entire life. The two warring emotions made me want to scream in frustration.
I watched, holding my breath, as he reached a hand out to touch me; he touched my neck first before trailing his fingers down, his hand flat to feel as many of my curves as he could. He reached my breasts and squeezed, palming it through my bra and cream colored sweater, my nipple hard against his hand.
“Very nice tits, Miss Granger, I’m most impressed,” he purred, his voice silky and sensual, so unlike the Sirius that I had known when he was alive.
He began unbuttoning my sweater slowly, and I gasped, remembering why this was such a terrible idea; my fear increased double fold, eclipsing the desire for a moment. “No, stop, I don’t want to do this,” I cried, twisting away from his hands on the table, my heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings against my ribs.
He held me down, his strong hands making it impossible for to me to move as his head tipped down to mine. He kissed me long and hard, his tongue entering my mouth and caressing me after my gasp of surprise. His kiss was exquisite torture, the pleasure from his lips on mine was the strongest I had ever felt, and the fear dissipated a little. He continued kissing me as he climbed on top of me, holding his weight up with his knees.
Sirius ended our kiss, my lips wet and swollen, and sat up to straddle me, his legs on either side of my thighs. He glanced down at me and took my sweater in his hands and pulled hard, ripping the rest of the buttons from their holes, making me inhale sharply. His eyes traveled appreciatively over me before he bent down and started to place wet, open mouthed, sucking kisses along my torso, starting above my belly button before working his way up to my breasts. He didn’t bother removing my bra but rather just pushed it up until my breasts spilled from the bottom, bouncing much to his liking.
The first touch of his tongue to my nipple made me cry out. The pleasure from something so simple was overwhelming, and I cried out again as he began to lick me with broad strokes of his tongue, switching to the other one after a minute. He suckled me until my nipples were dark red and aching.
He moved down my body, pushing my skirt up and grinning down at me as I spread my legs instinctually for him. My knickers were soaked through and he chuckled at the sight of them.
“Miss Granger, from the state of your panties, I’d say you want me too.”
I moaned, my hips bucking up towards him.
He shoved my skirt up around my waist and tugged my underwear down, over my knees and then passed my ankles, tossing them behind him haphazardly. Sirius stared at my nakedness and pushed my legs farther apart, the feeling of hands, hot and hard against my skin, making me whimper. After I was spread as wide as my shaking legs could handle he unzipped his trousers and pushed them down, revealing his lack of underwear and his erection. His cock was thick and flushed red; I couldn’t help but stare at it, and the knowledge that it would soon be inside of me made me quiver. He didn’t bother removing the rest of his clothes, keeping his shirt on and leaving his trousers around his knees. He settled between my thighs and, taking his cock in his hand, he lined himself up with my slit. Sirius stilled for a moment and then, with a wicked gleam in his pitch black eyes, he said: “Beg me.”
I made a mewling noise and lifted my hips, trying to take him inside me, but he just withdrew a few inches. I growled in frustration, and wished that he would untie me so that I could tug him towards me; I was out of my mind with desire and ecstasy and suddenly nothing else mattered but having him inside me.
“I said beg me,” he repeated, running the head of his cock along my slit and then up to my until-then untouched clit.
The feeling of him touching my clit made my whole body burn with pleasure; every nerve ending was on fire and it seemed that they all led to my clit. “Please,” I croaked, feeling dizzy.
“Do better than that,” he commanded, moving his cock around my clit, pressing firmly against me.
I was sobbing by this point and when I did what he wanted, the words came out disjointed and stilted. “Please … fuck me—oh Merlin, please.”
“Better,” he said before he moved down again and thrusted into me.
His cock stretched me wide; I hadn’t been with anyone for so long, and he was so thick, that there was a little bit of pain. But the feeling of pain was nothing compared to the way I felt when he was fully inside of me, his balls resting against my arse. He was right, I did feel alive, like I had never felt before.
Even though I wanted to, I wasn’t able to close my eyes, so instead I watched as he slowly withdrew, leaving only the head of his cock in me before slamming back inside, making me cry out in surprise, pain, and pleasure. His eyes weren’t completely black anymore, but had lightened to a disconcerting red-brown, and he stared down at me, his eyes locked on mine.
He fucked me fast and hard, the force of his thrusts sending the coffee table ever backwards, leaving what were sure to be deep scratches in my hard wood floors. I screamed out hoarsely with each thrust, my body thrumming with pleasure as fire spread through me. The place where we were joined felt like an inferno.
As I watched him, his eyes always on mine, he reminded me of an animal; every time he ground the root of his cock against me he made a noise like a growl. His long black hair had fallen out of the leather tie that had held it back, and now it had fallen past his shoulders, tickling my breasts and reminding me of a mane.
He bent his head down and tongued at my breasts, taking a nipple into his hot, wet mouth and sucking hard. I cried out from the pleasure and begged him to make me come, the pleasure was so immense that it felt like at any moment I was going to die from it. Sirius moved upwards, kissing and licking at my collarbone, flicking his tongue along the ridge of my clavicle. He reached my neck and began sucking at my skin, leaving me another love bite where the last one had been.
“Mine,” he growled against my skin, licking at the place where he had just marked.
The sound of his voice, the feeling of him sliding in and out of me, and the way he’d brush against my hard clit on every downward thrust finally made me come. I moaned and thrashed under him, clenching around him tightly; I felt my orgasm everywhere, from my clit down to the tips of toes, and up to the top of my head. I was flying, floating up somewhere near nirvana.
As I slowly started to fall down from the orgasm induced high I realized that he was still on top of me, that he was still fucking me. Somehow he had increased his pace and all I could do was lie their limply and take it, my body still unmovable from what had been an earth-shattering orgasm.
“Fuck,” he snarled, making the word long and rough. His cock jerked inside of me and I gasped at the feeling of his hot come filling me.
He gave a few more hard thrusts before stilling, his arms shaking at the strain of holding himself up; he rolled to the side and lowered himself to the floor, his breathing heavy and his body dripping with sweat. I still couldn’t move, even when he retrieved my wand and untied me, so I lied there on the table for several minutes as our breathing slowed.
Now that the desire had abated I could think more clearly; I felt dirty and used, and I could feel the sting of coming tears just behind my eyes. His spunk was running down and dripping onto the table and the place where he had been throbbed and ached, making me want to scour myself in the shower, or tear my own skin off. I was horrifically ashamed, I had let him take what he wanted without a fight. Lying there, my mind hazy and my body exhausted, I could barely remember telling him no. I started to wonder if maybe I had just imagined telling him no.
When I felt his hands on me again I started to sob, because no matter how sick I felt inside, his touch elicited the fire inside me and I found myself hungry for him all over again. Already I had become addicted to that feeling of being alive, I craved it now like a drug. He lifted me from the coffee table and carried me into the loo. He stripped away the last of our clothes and set me down in the tub before he turned on the water. He washed me, gently scrubbing away the sweat, saliva, and come before doing the same to himself.
He dried us off and carried me back to the bed; he pulled the covers over me and climbed in next to me, pulling me close to his naked body. I felt numb and the tears had stopped, but inside I was still crying, hoping that when I awoke in the morning this would turn out to be just another dream.
Sirius ran a hand through my drying hair, playing with a few brown locks. Before I fell into an exhausted slumber, I heard him whisper one more time in my ear: “Mine.” His voice, soft as it was, was still rough and I was reminded of a predator, there was no doubt in my mind that I was his prey.
When I woke in the morning I found Sirius Black sleeping next to me, his arms like steel bars across my figure, caging me in; of course it hadn’t been a dream, but I wish it had been.
With the moon I run Far from the carnage of the fiery sun
Driven by the strangled vein Showing no mercy I do it again Open up your eye You keep on crying, baby I’ll bleed you dry