I, Snape - Chapter Seventeen

Chasing Ghosts

I listened to the sound of the shower running, wishing that I could join her. However, I knew I had upset her with my questioning. I should have told her, ‘I’m a jealous old fool, who wants you to stay with him forever” and begged her forgiveness.

I stretched out on the bed. Hermione’s sexual ambitiousness was thrilling yet terrifying. I was a hypocrite for being critical of her, and yet my concern was growing. I could see no happy resolution to my desire to keep her.

As much as I needed to rest, sleep evaded me. I pulled off my robe and got out a pair of trousers and a plain white shirt. Even with air conditioning, the desert air was unpleasantly dry. Suddenly I missed the cool humidity of my dungeon. In my growing restlessness, I looked out the window. In typical Wizarding style, our hotel was in the middle of a warehouse district where if a Muggle were to spot something unusual it wouldn’t be too hard to isolate him and obliviate his memory.

Imagine my surprise when I spotted a ghost. Not a ghost ghost, but rather Sylvanius Goyle believed dead by Ministry and the Dark Lord alike these past two years. I recognized him in an instant. His simian appearance, long sloping brow and protruding jaw, combined with his loping walk, were quite unique. I took no risk in losing him, Apparating down into an alleyway just behind him. I could only hope that he wouldn’t hear the sound of my Apparation. I followed him a block or two, before I was forced to hit the ground and roll as a hex came my way. My own curse was on the mark and I ran up to Goyle where he lay, stupefied. His eyes rolled in terror when he saw me.

‘Relax, Van. I’m not here to turn you in. I’m going to release you now, but I do want something from you.”

Sweat beaded on Goyle’s forehead. He stared at me and blinked twice to indicate yes. “Right, you have to promise to not try to ‘Obliviate’ me. What I want from you is to talk, no strike that; I want to talk with you. Agreed?”

Again he blinked twice, and I freed him from the spell.

“It’s a bit early for booze,” said Goyle, “How about a breakfast buffet? I know an all you can eat place three blocks from here.”

I smiled and gave him a hand up. Together we set off in the blazing heat.

&&&

“So the thing you see,” said Goyle waving a sausage stuck on his fork, “was that you and I were really quite young. I didn’t know what I wanted. I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Agreed.” I said with some excitement. “We were both raised to see things in a certain way and lacked the maturity required to question our upbringing.” We were eating a leisurely breakfast. The buffet was huge and almost put Hogwarts to shame. We had been talking for an hour or two, reminiscing about our boyhood, and the bad times back when we were Death Eaters together. We had never really talked before, and I was shocked to discover that he wasn’t the dunderhead that I’d thought he was. He obliged me by explaining.

“Well, me dad, he always told me be grateful for the Goyle looks, me boy. Everyone will always think you’re stupider than a horse’s arse and don’t ever, ever, let ‘em know any different. He taught me Occlumency at an early age, just in case. Nonetheless, I wasn’t one for upsetting the applecart. I mean, did anyone in our year at Slytherin not join him?”

“Nary a one.” I sat back feeling better than I had in years. At last there was someone who understood--someone who had been through it and, amazingly, had reached similar conclusions to my own. But how could he be so content about it all?

“So Van, how did you do it?” I sipped my second cup of tea. I was feeling tired though the flight had lasted just over an hour. What with the eight-hour time difference and all the stress and the dreadful heat, I felt knackered.

“Well, I’d say the ‘how’ wasn’t half as hard to do as reaching the decision to leave Greg and Naomi behind. You know, I miss ‘em something horrible.”

“They are both holding up well. Greg is out from under Draco’s thumb and has turned into a fine young man. It seems he was even going out with the Head Girl for a while.”

Goyle took out his handkerchief and swiped at his eyes and nose. “That’s the ticket. It does me heart good-- I’m right glad to hear it. Thank goodness you spotted me. Though I would feel better if you let me do a little memory work on ye.”

“Trust me. Your secret is safe.”

“Trust you?” Goyle erupted into billowing laughter. “You, the biggest traitor in the history of Dark Magic, nothing personal.”

“No offense taken.” I grinned.

“So once I came to the conclusion, especially after that debacle at the Ministry of Magic, that I wanted out, it was a simply matter of planting memories among some Muggles and a witch or two. A little word here and there while I was under a glamour, and everyone believed that I had died.”

“I wish I had come up with something that straightforward. So the Dark Mark didn’t bother you at all here in the States?”

“Got it in one. Didn’t feel the summons and when they all died, I didn’t go.”

“How do you feel about that?” I needed to find out his secret. How could he live with himself after so many who had believed in him, and relied upon him as a Death Eater were now dead?

“Relieved. I’ve paid for that mistake—it’s cost me my wife and son and permanent exile. I’d rather they think me dead than have them go through knowing I was in Azkaban, or well, as it turns out dying when the Dark Lord did. And you know I loved them. I think about them all the time. Still now I’m getting on with my life. Chapter closed. I found m’self a beautiful little Muggle who loves me and I’ve got a good job in ‘Wizard Relations’ at one of the biggest casinos on the strip. Sevvie, old boy, I’ve got another chance at life. Believe me, I’m not going to muck it up twice.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” I looked around the place. It was dark and empty. The prices were no doubt low in order to convince people to come in regardless of the dreary ambiance. No one was around; no one was watching.

“Obliviate.” I leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “You will not remember running into Severus Snape today. Instead you did a good deed for a Muggle and he paid for your breakfast here. You had a lovely time chatting, but he had to leave. Now, you will finish your breakfast and in ten minutes get up and continue with your day.”

I got up, paid for our food, and left quickly. I walked back to the hotel, took a shower and lay down on the bed. It had been no less than a miracle to see Goyle. So, I wasn’t alone and someone else had realized that the Dark Lord did not deserve our loyalty. It was a shame that the others who had been so duped had to die. But Goyle was right. Rather death than Azkaban. I knew that for a certainty. Death or the Dementor’s kiss, either was preferable to living in that hellhole. I sincerely wished Goyle great luck on his new life.

His story gave me solace. He hadn’t gotten off scott-free for his mistakes. Nor had I. Five more years teaching at Hogwarts was my punishment and perhaps it was time for me to take it like a man. I closed my eyes and slept peacefully.

I awoke much later, feeling rested and at ease.

I had dreamt of Miss Granger:

In the dream, I was spying on her in her shower. She was lathering herself, rubbing the soap on a rough washcloth and then laving her body with it. I saw her nipples become erect and longed to reveal myself to her. But I did not dare, for I would ruin everything if I did. So I continued to observe her from my hiding place. I was incredibly hard and aching for her, but refused to touch myself. Instead I watched as she snuck first one finger and then another into her cunny. Her eyes half closed while she pleasured herself and I thought how much more pleasure I could give her with my penis, which was leaking and twitching for attention. Still, I could not reveal myself to her. She would only become scared and run away if I did.

She sat on the bottom of the shower, I could see her clearly through the glass enclosure, and she took a bottle of shampoo and thrust it up inside her. She moaned and it took all of my self-control to not vocalize in sympathy. My breathing was hard and fast and my cock jumped every time Miss Granger pulled out the bottle and pushed it back in again. She was sobbing with the tension as she built to a climax. Every part of me wished to go and relieve her, to take her in my arms and love her completely.

She began to scream as her orgasm came on her and I came in my underwear, hard and fast. I wanted to touch her, to stroke her hair and murmur to her sweet endearments. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. Yet I didn’t dare. I couldn’t risk ruining everything with that one statement of devotion!

I awoke then, not minding the mess that the wet dream had created. I had arrived at a decision. I would have Miss Granger, if it was at all possible, and I would keep her. Selfishly, incomprehensibly against all odds and my background, I would fight for her!



On to Chapter Eighteen
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