Reaching a dark corner on the third floor corridor, Michelle abruptly stopped, and with the impetus of her halt she thrust Severus Snape into an alcove behind a suit of armour. The boy seemed relieved that the frantic run had ended; he was greedily gasping for breath and that was the only reason, which held him from revealing his swearing abilities, which now would have easily been worthy of Mrs Filch. No, he was definitely not accustomed to sprinting across the castle, up and down its steep stairs, and confusing corridors, no. He wished that the crazy girl released him and he could retrieve to his dormitory, all sweaty and furious, doing his best to forget that demented Halloween night.
Padfoot tore in a second later, with Peter Pettigrew, who was still hanging limply in the air.
He and Michelle strained their ears like hound dogs to find out if they were followed.
“Let go of my hand, you lunatic!” Snape growled and tried in vain to jerk his already aching hand from the girl’s icy grip, again. Her strength in fact astonished him; although his build was far from athletic, it should have been quite enough to overpower a girl of his age. Yet, Michelle, wandless and worn, was able to keep him in check barehanded; that thought made him grit his teeth with seething fury. If Black realized the awkward situation his foe was stuck in, public humiliation would not be avoided.
But Sirius Black was heedless of Snape. He blew out the candle, which had been shining gaily through the grates of the armour. The suit of armour opposed to the rude treatment making creaking sounds with its joints – Sirius indifferently stabbed his wand right into it without even looking.
The suit became still and silent.
With a graceful move of his wand Sirius sent Peter floating into the corner, next to Michelle and Snape and a second later he dived into the thick shadows as well.
It was quiet on the corridor; only dampened sounds of music could be heard from downstairs; in a nearby toilet some drunken teenagers giggled, most probably enjoying their first abusive encounter with alcohol.
When Michele opened her mouth to speak, she found Sirius’ hand muffling her.
A pair of yellow eyes appeared, scanning the area. It was Monsieur Archibald Rasmannoff, Filch’s pedigree Siberian cat. The huge beast excitedly sniffed the air right at the spot, where Peter Pettigrew had been hanging just a moment ago.
“Shit!” Sirius thought, “He senses Wormtail from miles.”
But it wasn’t only Peter the cat nosed. Monsieur Rasmannoff suddenly ruffled the long hair on his back and gave a deep growling sound. His eyes pinned straight into Padfoot’s.
Before Sirius would have realized what he was doing, he stepped forth, and left his hideout, glaring at the animal with opened animosity. He could feel his body vibrate with a deep droning.
The feline furiously meowed and scuttled away.
“Well, you’re an idiot, Black! Not that it was a secret. Filch’ll be on our track in a second. Well done,” Snape spat.
“One more word and Filch will be the last thing to bother you,” Padfoot retorted furiously. Snape was right; he and Peter drew too much attention.
“I want to see you try, blockhead,” Snape hissed, making an effort to free his wand hand again. Black was the ideal object to vent his spleen on, not to mention that it was entirely his fault that he, Severus Snape became a victim of such an idiotic situation.
“Listen, Snape, I have no time for piteous arguing with a piteous git. You take the girl to the seventh floor, to the Prefects’ Bathroom. The password is: Chrysanthemum indicum. I’ll draw Filch away, and bring her clothes. You keep her safe. If anything happens to her, consider yourself a dead man. Understood? Fine, I’m off then.” Before Snape could have said a word, Sirius vanished with Peter.
“Damn you, Black!” Severus called after him. Not the wittiest retort, he’d ever mustered, but under the circumstances that was all he was capable of. He noticed that the girl was staring at the spot where Sirius disappeared. She started trembling.
Footsteps echoed from below; it could either be students or teachers. Or even worse: that stinky bastard Filch. Snape didn’t consider it a good idea to find out who the footsteps belonged to, so this time it was he who grabbed the girl and dragged her along towards the Prefects’ Bathroom. Why the bathroom of all the places in Hogwarts, he had no idea, but at the moment he wasn’t in the mood for looking for a better alternative.
It was a long run upwards, and Severus Snape cursed all the stairs and labyrinth-like corridors of Hogwarts that required the physical condition of an athlete to mount.
When they reached the richly decorated door, the pang in his lungs turned into sharp pain and he was convinced that the taste in his mouth was positively blood.
The door opened and he tossed the girl inside and followed her with a jump. He closed the door with several spells; only when he made sure that nobody could break in on them did he have a look around.
Michelle was standing still beside a pompous, tiled basin; she embraced herself and looked utterly lost.
It was a most confusing moment for Snape, for now he realized that he was left alone with that strange, unknown girl, who by all signs depended on his help.
“Perhaps you’ll want to have a bath, you look quite frozen,” he started. The girl looked at him wide-eyed, but she didn’t speak. It should have been damned Black, who stayed with that freak, while he, Snape would go and tell the teachers about this little incident. This awkward situation shouldn’t have happened to him. To him of all the people! Damn!
Seeing that the girl had no idea how to use the Prefects’ Bathroom, Snape opened the taps with an irritated flick of his wand. He strongly hoped that from then on she would manage by herself. He could hardly believe that he was baby-sitting a grown girl! He took a mental note not to forget to poison Black and his fellow Marauders next morning right at breakfast. The picture of them enjoying a gastric lavage drew a satisfied grin on his face.
Sweet, hot fumes filled the air, as colourful water poured in thick streams into the bath.
It was highest time to leave, Snape thought, and to check if the coast was clear he put his ear on the door. When he turned back, he saw the girl throw off her muddy clothes and step out of her oversized man’s boots into the hot water.
Probably for the first time in his life Severus Snape was totally helpless. He could not move – the sight bound him to his place – at the same time he wanted to get out, before his confusion would become obvious.
He nervously strengthened his grip on his wand. Just when he was on the point of overcoming his stupor, the girl turned to him.
Her eyes beneath the heavy lashes reflected surprise and fear.
“Don’t leave me alone, please. I’m afraid of being left alone.”
Snape wished she hadn’t spoken. He had to go; there was a fat chance that all that was a dirty trick cooked up by Black and his gang, and if that was so, he would be in great trouble very soon. He was in the Prefects’ bathroom with a naked girl; perhaps that would help his reputation among other girls, but he doubted that it would make an impression on the teachers or Lily.
“I have to get back to my common room, I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. Michelle emerged from the foamy water and turned to him. She was nervously wringing her fingers as she stood there and Severus Snape could not help travelling down his look on her body.
She was tall, almost as tall as he was, she had a lean, graceful build up and now that her hair was washed away from her face he found that she had delicate features: thick, long lashes shaded her eyes and her mouth had a beautiful curve, though it sported a bluish colour at the moment.
In one word: she was a stunner. Too bad.
Nevertheless, Snape reasoned, her fear radiated so thickly from her that it was getting harder and harder to believe that it was faked. She couldn’t be such a damned good actress – that would have required unique talent.
She stood still on the brink of the basin motionless, though her hands were gripping each other as if seeking for support.
“Just a few minutes, I really can’t stay longer,” he pressed out.
The shade of a smile passed her face. She seemed relieved.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
Fine, Severus thought, what now? What was he supposed to do now? Watch her, or maybe she wanted to talk? He tried to remind himself of Lily, but it only made a knot in his guts. No matter how hard he tried to fight it – he was 17 and he was a boy, and these two facts made the situation damn hard.
“Where have you come from?” he asked to ease the tension, which apparently only affected him, for the girl gave herself over to the pleasures of hot water.
“Pardon?” she asked emerging her head from beneath the foams.
Snape took a cautious step closer. The water merrily gurgled. In fact that bathroom was definitely a pleasant place. It smelled really nice: vanilla and a hint of cinnamon. The candles threw playful lights on the colourful, tiled walls and the fireplace next to the bath invitingly crackled.
From that point of view his stiffness and alertness seemed slightly ridiculous.
He risked a few further steps and sat on a cosy rug, next to the basin. He was not afraid of women, not even naked ones, and he would show that.
“So, where have you come from? You don’t seem to be a Hogwarts student,” he repeated his question in a slightly relaxed way.
“A bad place,” she replied, dreamily playing with the foam; she was trying to build something which could be either a pony or an overstuffed pillow, “I don’t like to talk about it.”
She turned to him.
“Can you make a cat?” she inquired.
The boy looked abashed.
“Build a cat out of the foam?” he already had a ready answer to give, but then he thought better of that. He didn’t want to hurt the girl – that would have been too easy.
“Yes, I like cats. They are clever. I like clever creatures,” she said musingly.
A smirk crept on the boy’s face. That girl was… well, interesting.
He raised his wand and furrowing his brows with concentration he made some complex moves in the air. The foam started to swirl and bit by bit it gracefully took up the form of a feline.
It was a really neat foam-cat. Perhaps could do with a shorter neck, but the result was satisfying. No one would have ever believed that the moody Severus Snape made a foam-cat. He suppressed a smile.
The girl looked wide-eyed again, but this time her eyes shone with admiration.
“It’s wonderful! You’re amazing!” She turned to Severus Snape and looked him deep in the eyes.
Suddenly the room seemed hot, very hot to him, and the distance between them too little. Snape’s heart skipped a beat and then it started to race. It was no good. She moved closer and slowly she leant towards him. Grateful and trusting. It was definitely no good.
He wanted to say something just to break the moment, but nothing came into his mind – it was blank apart from the picture of Michelle’s full lips that parted invitingly as she closed the distance between them.
Her eyes bore deep into the inky depths of Severus’ pupils; she could clearly feel the ancient, black flames, which were buried, or rather entombed in the young body of the boy. The heat of his dark passions slowly consumed their fragile cage, and soon they would burst free. She could feel that dark power emanate from his inside; he was too young and too innocent to understand his fate, which was already forming in the deadly fire.
Hot waves of power radiated from him, washing over Michelle’s senses, as his desire crept higher and his self-control weakened – the unfolding wings of a birdling, which would once become a beast, she thought. Very well. She wanted him. She wanted that immense dark power; she wanted his dark demons – and they responded willingly to her call.
And then it happened – Michelle’s cool lips softly touched his and Severus forgot to breath. He wanted more. He didn’t remember the time when he had wanted anything as badly as now. The light, delicate touches ignited his fantasy, and he was overwhelmed with kaleidoscopic sensations before he could have stopped it.
To tell the truth he had no idea that a kiss could be like that – when he snogged Katrin Holzberger that felt awful. She opened her mouth wide, as if she intended to swallow him – it was impossible to feel anything apart from her yawning jaws. As soon as he got rid of her he washed his face, to clean it of the incredible amount of sticky saliva.
In brief - that was a nightmare. Of course it would surely have been completely different with Lily, but again, Lily wasn’t quite friendly with him nowadays, since that stupid incident.
Michelle felt a slight shadow of tension within the boy and she didn’t like that. Some immature, clumsy emotions gained form before her mind; the boy was strongly attached to someone, a girl most probably. But his soul was a faulty nest for such gentle feelings; they would get burnt by his black fire, before he could understand what happened. That’s alright – that would only make him stronger, a lot stronger; strong enough to bear the weight of his own dark powers, which will be vast…
Her thirst for him became hardly bearable.
Teasingly, her arms slid up his chest and they wound around his neck – as she did so, her breasts pressed to Snape.
Fireworks exploded in his brain.
He pulled her closer and his hands greedily slid along her back. The sensation was entirely new and overwhelming. She willingly responded to his touch and emitted a hardly audible moan.
Severus Snape felt his insides grow hot, almost unbearably hot; time escaped their reality and they got lost in the storming sea of their senses.
With a sudden move Michelle pulled him into the basin. Hot water soaked through his clothes, but he didn’t care; her body pressed against him moving along to the rhythm of their buss.
He gasped for air with a groan. He had never had any idea that a human being could experience so many sensations at a time. Strongest of all was his hunger for the girl, as if she was the last breath of air on Earth. He could not control his hands as they grabbed her thin waist and pulled her possessively to him.
He wanted her and he would get her – Severus’ former awkwardness evaporated and gave way to his dark demons, which he didn’t even know existed.
The girl’s slender fingers unbuttoned him with unusual ease and Severus was relieved to get rid of his heavy clothes. They submerged into the scented water. As they emerged, he lifted her and laughing, Michelle dug her fingers into his wet hair. With his newly born confidence Severus crushed down upon her lips.
He had never felt so strong and invincible – Michelle gave a satisfied moan – for the first time he tasted his own power and got instantly intoxicated by it. His former life seemed so small and weightless now, as his soul soared high above it.
Now it was his turn to pin his exploring look into Michelle’s dark irises. And there it was, the answer to his question – she wanted him, she called him with desperate need.
The rest happened with natural ease; there was no sign of struggling teenagers, Michelle and Severus Snape whirled and moved with unexpected agility.
The bathroom was loud with moans, cries, gasps and splashes, but no one could hear the feral noise – smart spells guarded the place.
How long it took neither of them knew. Dawn slowly drew dirty grey patches on the black horizon.
Severus Snape leant his head back on the rim of the basin; Michelle rested hers on his smooth chest. He was drained, exhausted to the extreme. He had to go back to his common room, because if he didn’t, he would not be able to stay awake, and the new day would find them there, in the Prefects’s Bathroom naked and sound asleep.
No, that mustn’t happen! He would leave.
With enormous effort he pulled away from the girl and stood up. His white skin now sported red bruises and scratches. He didn’t mind it. His absent-minded look travelled along the floor, where he found his wand. Yes, that was it.
He wanted to collect his water-soaked clothes with a spell, but the wand shook limply between his tired fingers. There was no use, he thought, indifferently observing his own actions. Obediently, he took the wand behind his ear and took up his wet clothes.
He might get in great trouble, he thought, but it didn’t really bother him.
He looked back at Michelle, she was sleeping soundly. Perhaps it was better that way. He didn’t have any suitable words for farewells.
After coping desperately with his own door blocking spells, Severus Snape managed to open it. He would have to close the door after he left fast enough to secure it until Sirius Black came back.
Black… yes, the memories of the night slowly crept back into his intoxicated mind. Where was that git? What if he had already tried to get into the bathroom? Oh, well, who the hell cared, anyway?
He put some spells on the door again; the result was far poorer than at night, but that was all he was capable of at the moment. He could hardly stand, his leaden legs buckled with every step and his head felt heavy and dumb. He needed a bed, he desperately needed to sleep.
Stumbling on his way, Severus staggered towards his dormitory.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please tell me if you liked the story so far!
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