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Chapter 1 : Voracious
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Jill requested this story pairing, I think because it’s different and somewhat unique as there isn’t a lot of it. I was at first put off by it because I couldn’t imagine something like this, and it took me about a month to finish it, and I usually write in one sitting. Anyway, without further ado, here is my story “Voracious”
NOTE: Not yet beta’d
Getting away was difficult to do, especially now that he was considered somewhat of a national hero. Seated on a stone memorial to the very man whose life he’d ended not ten years ago, Severus Snape lazily watched the ridiculously ornate fountain commemorating Albus Dumbledore. The wind blowing rather harshly through the cascading sheets of water, causing it to blow in a refreshing mist toward him. As a general rule, Severus normally would not sit in public at Dumbledore’s fountain and allow the mist to violate his face; however, on that particular day, he found the dungeons quite stifling.
It was a rarity to find Severus outside his classroom or personal quarters, and many students gasped dramatically as his robes cascaded down the crowded corridors. He’d been outside for about ten minutes, and the warm, bright rays of the spring sun felt foreign and uninviting to his pale complexion.
More than anything, he just wanted to be left alone. When the soft sound of footsteps interrupted his serene solidarity, his countenance displayed annoyance as he looked up.
“Severus,” the petite redhead greeted, seating herself next to him.
“Mrs. Potter,” he returned coldly, returning his gaze to the cool water.
“It’s Professor now, you know, of course. But please call me Ginny, and if you find that too boring or juvenile, Ginevra would work fine as well.”
“Mrs. Potter,” he repeated with bitter disdain.
Raising a finger, she turned and pointed dramatically at Severus even though he was not looking at her.
“Anything but that, really. You can call me whatever you want to, whatever you think suits me, but please, not Potter,” she said, her tone drab and dead.
“Things not going well at home? Potter not the champion husband? He seemed to be so annoyingly good at everything else.”
“Stop it,” she replied firmly.
“You, Ginevra, are the one who dared to interrupt the silence I was so dearly enjoying.”
“Have you any idea the horror it is to have someone you love so fiercely and fully, to have them turn their back on you to the point where trying to converse with them, or…or make love to them…is like communicating with a brick wall?” she spurted out at once. To her great surprise, just as she was about to mumble a stupid apology and leave, Severus looked up.
“I do,” he said curtly, piercing her with his strong gaze.
“You…do?” she asked hesitantly.
“I do. But in no capacity do I feel the need to confess to you my ridiculous, dust covered regrets about a woman who was never mine in the first place.”
“Lily.” The name sent an unwelcome chill up his spine, and he stood abruptly.
“No. I’m not talking about this, especially with you. Good day.”
“No, Severus, wait, I’m sorry.”
“Is there some other reason you wish to bother me after seemingly already achieving that goal so successfully?” he snarled, his long hair swinging as he turned.
“Yes…I wanted to er…invite you to my room tonight. I bought some food even though the house elves cook wonderfully, but I bought too much. I didn’t want to invite Neville Longbottom because he’s friends with Harry and honestly, I want to do anything but talk about Harry.” She paused, feeling the awkwardness of her request hang heavily in the air.
“And you think I’d be just a delightful dinner guest? Perhaps I’ll bring a pie. Oh whatever shall I wear? No,” he replied coldly.
“Here’s an idea. Stop being a jerk. And I wholly expected this answer. I am now demanding you come. No pies, nothing. You’ve been a hermit in your room since the war ended, and you need to communicate. Therefore, if you won’t come to me, I shall come to you.”
“Why do you even care?” He asked incredulously.
“Everyone needs a friend, Severus.”
He smelled her coming before he heard the loud knock on his door. His mind raced for several excuses to not open the door before he finally swung it open. Grinning ridiculously in front of him was Ginny Potter holding a platter.
“It’s a turkey!” She said proudly, inviting herself into his personal quarters.
“Is it,” he commented mildly. He watched her walk into the depths of his small flat inside the castle, baffled and utterly confused as to why he had given in and opened the door.
It was no secret that Mr. Harry Potter was unhappy. Even after nine years, the story of the great battle was legend. Two weeks after the victory, Harry had asked the youngest Weasley to be his wife. Severus wasn’t sure of all the details, nor did he really care, but he knew that they’d tried for years to have children with no success. Her brother, Ron, arguably the most annoying of the Weasley’s, and his wife Hermione, had multiplied like rabbits, each child more inquisitive and red headed as the next. But Ginny and Harry could not find success in producing a child. That, coupled with Harry’s long work hours and a obnoxious drive to continue to be the perfect, saint-like Boy-who-lived had put their once happy and renowned marriage in the toilet. In her desperation for something more, she accepted the job of Muggle Studies professor as a last resort, mostly due to the fact that her father had taught her everything he knew about the subject.
She’d been at Hogwarts a month before Severus even realized her presence, and ever since that moment she annoyed him every chance she received.
“Severus, what are you thinking about?” She asked jovially, unloading her meal with a flick of her wand.
“How unbelievably awkward this is going to be. I, for one, would rather steer way from this atrocious idea.”
“Well how am I to get to know you if you won’t let me in?”
“Should I even waste my breath answering that ridiculous question?” He sat down at his table, which was made of a beautiful mahogany wood that was passed down to him by his maternal great grandfather. Ginny found her way around the small kitchenette in his apartment easily.
“Being down here makes me glad I was in Gryffindor,” she said with a laugh.
“If that was to be a joke, I see no humor in it.”
“Do you even smile? Or laugh?” she asked suddenly, abandoning her dinner preparations.
“There is no joy or happiness in my life. It would be useless to carry on the charade of a smile or isolated laugh when there is nothing to smile or laugh about. Why waste the energy?” He said truthfully. His tone was even and plain, but her face displayed shock and dismay.
“I don’t know.” Frowning, she resumed cutting some potatoes.
Severus was an empty shell, devoid of happiness and hope. It was easy to love this way for him. He’d already lost so many people; it seemed that every time he had grown to care of love someone, they were viciously ripped from him, leaving a gaping wound that took years to heal. He was alone for the protection of his mind and sanity.
After a few minutes, Ginny had completed her masterpiece. Smiling she set it down on the table.
“My mother’s recipe,” she said, seating herself across from him.
He picked up a fork and pierced the tender meat, his mouth already watering from the scent that had permeated his apartment for the last 20 minutes. It was very good. Ginny had definitely developed her mother’s amazing talent for cooking.
“Do you like it?” she asked. He voiced no reply but decided, rather, to gruffly nod in approval. Her face broke into a large smile, but he steadfastly maintained no expression.
Conversation was sparse throughout the dinner, and when they had finished, Ginny stood up.
“That was nice, wasn’t it?”
“Well let me clean up here, and then— ”
“And then? There will be no ‘and then.’ You’ve cooked, invited yourself into my very busy evening, and this is where you leave.”
“Ah-ah Severus. I’m already here! What makes you think I’d leave now?” She asked playfully, waving her finger in front of him.
“Because I want you to!” he said harshly, rising from the table.
“Really Severus? Really? Do you really want me to leave?” She asked, sticking her shoulders back.
“I don’t believe you.”
“How is it possible that you would foolishly believe I’m lying.”
She smiled coyly, walking slowly up to him. She was dressed in a lime green blouse and a knee length white linen skirt, and as she walked she pulled her skirt up only the slightest bit. Severus felt the sudden urge to back away, as though he were about ready to be attacked.
“Why do you send me away? Are you afraid of me?” she pouted. Severus felt his heart rate suddenly pick up, and he felt light headed.
“Certainly not. Annoyed by you, maybe.”
Her hips continued to sway toward him. Completely out of the blue, Severus began to feel self-conscious. He was reading her signs faster than if she were screaming at him.
She was trying to seduce him.
“You don’t mean that, do you Severus? Do you?” He bumped into the kitchen chair as he moved backward away from her. He wasn’t blind to the fact that his hair was beginning to gray, and his skin was no longer as elastic as it once had been.
“What are you doing?” He asked, stopping suddenly. As Ginny reached him she grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to her.
“I’ve watched you, and I think I can bring you out of your shell.” His muscles tensed uncomfortably as she slid her hand down his arm.
“You should leave,” he said quietly, but his tone suggested otherwise.
“How long has it been, Severus, since you’ve been with a woman?”
“That’s none of your business,” he said, and his coal black eyes found hers.
“Tell me. Just a little fact between friends,” she replied seductively, placing one arm around his neck and another on his chest.
“Twenty-five years ago,” he whispered. He wanted to run far away, but he was planted firmly in place.
“Twenty-five years?” She asked, startled for only a second. “You are long overdue for someone to show you what it’s like to be loved.”
He felt dangerous and ridiculously under-experienced. More importantly than anything else, Severus Snape would not be dictated to. No one would ever dare to attempt to wrestle control away from him. And in his moment of absolute weakness, in a frantic attempt to prevent vulnerability, his mouth connected fiercely with hers.
Her youth fascinated him; her skin was smooth and her hair was soft against his calloused hands. She smelled of jasmine and lavender, and as her hands roamed skillfully over his body, he found himself immersed and completely hypnotized by her.
To say Severus was rusty would be the understatement of the year; the touch of a woman was almost as foreign as it was pleasurable. It sent shivers up and down his spine as he became lost in her. Still, any feelings he yearned to express were stifled by the uneasiness he felt with age.
He placed his hands on her arms and, still kissing, he moved her to his bed. He glanced around his space, and his voice came out unsteady, which was highly unlike him as he gasped “Is this…okay?”
“Perfect,” was her breathy reply, and he was lost again.
It had been years since anyone had set foot into his bedroom. Ancient texts and yellowed parchment were stacked high in the corners of his room. There were no windows, and besides the large bed in the center of the room there was a small modest dresser and a large desk full of ungraded essays and personal writings. There were no pictures or decorations.
However, despite the clutter, it was quite clean.
She pulled him down toward her and he forgot his worries. Her hair was spread out on the bed, and her face was flushed. She grinned, but as her eyes met his, her face softened.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ginny said softly.
“I have a history of corrupting Potter wives,” he replied, his face breaking out into the slightest of smiles. She returned his countenance and rose just high enough to remove his robes. He lowered himself on top of her, now wearing a plain black undershirt and black trousers. His faded dark mark was visible, and she ran her long fingers softly down his forearm.
She was like a delicate flower underneath him, but he wasn’t afraid to assert authority over her small, pulsating form. She was beautiful in every sense of the word, but even the aching throughout his body could not stifle the feeling of immorality that fought its way to the surface every time he looked into her eyes.
The age battle was too much, and finally he let himself give in a take her. The scene was blurry as he continued to rip away the layers of raw lust, begging to finish what she had initiated. The maelstrom of their heated passion consumed the room with stray, strained vocal cries and frenzied movements that sent them both flying as they painted the moment.
And when it was all over, he didn’t speak a word. She lazily smiled and rolled over, continuing to invite herself into his space. She was asleep, seemingly content and clearly satisfied.
Staring up at the ceiling with the woman beside him curled up, he couldn’t help but compare it to the last time he lay completely sleepless due to a woman.
They both had red hair, but that was generally where the similarities ended. Lily had always been passionate and selfless. Ginny was broken, torn, and in need of love. Lily always had all the love she could ever desire from James but she always needed more, or at least this was what Severus believed in his heart. She wanted Severus, but chose James because he was safe. Ginny, he behavior oddly erratic, was clearly distressed at the state of her marriage, and was looking for a release. And Severus, with years of repressed sexual tension and anxiety, complied with her wishes. For perhaps the first time in his life, he wanted to shake her awake and discuss their actions, but he abstained.
Sometimes, things are much better left unsaid.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this…and you weren’t freaked out by it, haha. I’m quite proud with how it turned out :) Thank you for reading!
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