Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. Calla Bigsby is property of Eyesuhkattspeleeng, Kalinda Allen is mine.

Hades'Queen: This story is a collaboration between Eyesuhkattspeleeng and myself. It is written in the first person, told by the two Ocs, Calla's parts written by Eyesuhkattspeleeng and Kali's written by myself. Story is begins in the second year of Snape's teaching career.

Eyesuhkattspeleeng: After having spent a couple of years talking back and forth, bonding over fanfiction and our love of the Harry Potter series, the two of us decided that we should do a collaboration fanfiction. And this is the end result. It's taken us a couple of years to actually get most of this done and to name it but it has been very worth the ride. Calla has been my favorite character I've written so far. She's very close to my heart, as is Hades'Queen. With that being said, enjoy!

Calla

You go through life thinking you're the most deranged, fucked up, lonely person you know and suddenly it changes when you meet some one who is just as bad if not worse.

My level of fucked-upness was pretty high, even by my standards. My favorite movie was "Pink Flamingos" just because I thought the idea of a bunch of trashy Americans out to prove they were the most despicable people on the earth funny. That and it made me feel better about myself.

You're talking to the girl whose own parents, the people who raised me, questioned my sanity. If that's not fucked up, I don't know what is. Just who in the hell did they think I got it from? Well, actually, no, not from them. They were pretty normal. A little neurotic, my parents were, but normal by anybody's standards. The fact was, they just did not get me.

I think I started to realize I was completely fucked up in my fifth year at Hogwarts. I had somehow made prefect (don't asked me how that happened) and I was patrolling-well, actually, looking for somewhere to go get high, when I came across a lonely little Ravenclaw first year, crying.

"What's up?" I asked. The first year didn't reply at first. Rather, he kept on sobbing like a little bitch which just irritated the piss out of me. He was kneeling against the wall with his head buried in his knees. I nudged him my foot. "Oi. I said, 'What's up?'"

"I miss my mum and dad," he sniffled. "I don't like this place. I want to go h-h-hoooooooome!" He started wailing again and I just did not deal well with crying of any sort. But I did sort of feel bad for him. I know I got the blues pretty bad during my first week at Hogwarts.

"Well, now, kitten," I said, trying to sound all maternal and shit. I didn't normally do maternal. "We all feel that way. But your mum had to cut the umbilical cord sometime."

He looked at me, wiped his eyes, and just stared in disbelief. "W-what?"

"Well, I mean, think about it from your mum's point of view. I'm sure she doesn't miss a whining snivelling little shit running around all the time." He jutted his bottom lip out, threatening to cry again. Okay, so I'd fucked up a bit. I backed up and tried to start again. "You know that creepy neighbor whose always begging you to come inside for an ice cream? And you know how the one time you went in there he played with your ding-dong and told you not to tell anyone? Well, he can't hurt you any more, kitten."

I wasn't a week into the term and I had my prefect badge revoked for that. Just as well.

All of that is pretty much irrelevant, however. The point is, I'd finally found some one who was more of a loner than I was. He went by the name of Severus Snape and while I want to say that I liked him right off the bat, I'm not a liar. I hated him. I hated him because he was a complete cock. He always seemed to be sullen and brooding. He was just generally a negative person and if there is one thing I've learned in my years is that if you surround yourself with negative people, you are destined to become generally unhappy. Not that I wasn't before. I'm just saying that I didn't need any more influence in that department.

Snape was young for a teacher and for that reason, many believed he'd be a complete push over. I hadn't suffered from that delusion. Because I have a knack for psychology and a knack for reading people, I could see that Professor Severus Snape was not the man to be fucked with. Of course, any one could see that much, unless they were completely effing stupid. That does not mean I did not fuck with him, however. I just was aware that it wasn't a smart thing to do.

He taught potion's class, my least favorite class of all. I'm not sure why I didn't just drop it. My grades weren't bad, in fact they were a bit above average. I guess I found it boring. It was too methodical for my liking. It reminded me of cooking and I hated to cook back then. Plus, if I wanted to fulfill my ambition of becoming a Healer, I needed that N.E.W.T or else I was doomed beyond all reason.

Snape had been teaching since my sixth year and I sort of remembered him from before, when he was a student himself. I didn't know the guy, I was just aware of his presence because the crowd of Slytherins he hung out with were pretty rough and did some pretty fucked up things that made me, Queen of Fucked Up, cringe. I didn't much consort with Slytherins. The closest thing I had to a Slytherin friend was Kalinda Allen and that was only because Snape made us all sit in alphabetical order and I'd been placed next to her. I felt sort of bad because all of the times I'd fucked with Snape, she was caught in the cross fire just because she was sitting next to me. Mostly Snape just snarled at me but still. Who wants to see the snarling face of a teacher that close even if it wasn't your face he was in.

"Bigsby!" He'd say in a dangerous voice. This was always Kalinda's cue to back up about ten spaces. She'd learned her lesson early on.

A lot of people could swear I was in Gryffindor because of the way Snape and I went round and round, but the truth was, I was just a dumb Hufflepuff who said things or did things without thinking a bit. Did I like having him yell at me? Did I like having to spend eons in detention with him? Not really, no. I was on the Quidditch team. I needed all the practice I could get and any time spent in Snape's drippy office, doing lines was time I could've been using to better myself. I'm not sure why I wasn't kicked off the team completely other than the fact that the captain, Taramantha Finch just didn't have the heart to kick me off. Plus she was a lesbian so perhaps she had a thing for me.

It always seemed to burden Snape when he'd issue me a detention or two, like it was a huge waste of his time when in fact it was actually a huge waste of time on my part. He could sit there and grade papers while I worked but I had to shove other things aside for it. But even that changed.

I'm not sure when it happened but after a while, I started to like going to detention. It was something familiar, I guess. It meant that I didn't have to think. It meant that I didn't have to put up with any one and really Snape was tolerable during detention because we were never at each others throats. That was because he mainly just ignored me and the place gave me a quiet environment to do my homework in. My grades were considerably higher because of that.

I had a startling revelation around the first part of my seventh year. Part of the reason I liked going to detention was because I sort of liked Snape himself and that thought made me vomit. I was sitting at supper one night, looking at Snape, thinking about my impending detention when I stopped at thought, my god, I really do sort of like the guy. And then I spewed my dinner everywhere which caused quite a few people around me to hop up and go puke in a more considerate place, like the toilet. I didn't make it to detention that night though Snape hadn't really seem to care or else just expected I wouldn't come because of the puke-fest I'd celebrated with my house mates.

I stayed in the loo most of that evening, alternating between throwing up and staring at myself in the mirror, wondering how I'd managed to achieve that level of fucked up. My dark skin had gone a bit pale, my brown eyes were bloodshot and my rough straight hair had gone viciously awry. I didn't even recognize myself. Heinous fuckery most foul, I thought. I wasn't me. How could I possibly be me? I had just admitted to myself that I fancied Snape when just two days ago I was ranting and raving to Taramantha about how much I hated him.

It was like a switch being turned on in my head because after that, I didn't do anything to piss him off and actually went out of my way to avoid any sort of confrontation with him. It frustrated me but at the same time it was probably for the best. I was under the impression he was seeing some one anyway. I'm pretty sure he noticed the change too because he did everything in his power to get a rise out of me, to test me. At some point, it became just unbearable and I had to bend under pressure and just snap, which to be honest was a relief. He'd deemed one of my potions unfit for a grade when I'd brewed it perfect. I had to say something to him about it and the moment I did, I was rewarded with a detention.

"I don't get it," I told him after class that day. I was pretty frank about the situation, not to mention upset. "What's wrong with it? Why wouldn't you give me the grade?"

"Because Miss Bigsby, you were clearly cheating. Don't think I did not see you whispering with Miss Allen."

"That's just dumb," I said with a huff. "How can you cheat on a potion anyway?"

"I know what I saw, Miss Bigsby."

"Well, you must be blind."

I wanted to eat my words as soon as I said them. But for one iota, I hated him again and it felt great. It occurred to me about ten seconds after the fact that it was a trap and just a way for him to get me into detention again. Luckily, he'd quit taking points from Hufflepuff long ago but the detentions weren't much better. In fact, they were pure torture. I was almost in tears when he uttered that dreadful word.

"That will be one detention, Bigsby," he said with a nasty smile. "I'll see you after supper. Now kindly exit the class room."

I wanted to stomp, scream and cry like a two year old, but I just walked away, completely forlorn that he had me where he wanted me.

I'm not sure exactly what I saw in Snape. He wasn't good looking by any means and did I mention that he's a complete dick? Sure, he was smart and knew what he was doing when it came to potions, he had to have been seeing as how Dumbledore hired him and people were managing to pass O.W.L's and N.E.W.T's but I still preferred Slughorn. The fact that he was good at potions didn't really matter to me.

At supper, I told Taramantha my situation. Luckily, she didn't laugh nor did she even look remotely grossed out. She just looked sort of confused.

"That's odd because I'd always figured you were pitching for our team," Tara said.

"What do you mean?"

"I've always thought you liked girls." Tara said cautiously. "I mean, you are a complete tom boy. You're the team Beater. That's as butch as it gets."

"Truth be told, I've never been interested in either sex," I said. I suppose I should've been offended by what she'd pointed it out but it did no good because it was true. "That's why this is so weird."

"It's new," Tara said with a shrug. "Look, Calla, it's probably just sexual tension. You do spend a lot of time with him in detention. It's only natural that you develop some sort of curiosity."

"You're not helping."

"There's two things you can do about it. You can either just ignore it and keep living life or you can resolve the tension by giving him a good snog to satisfy your curiosity."

"Or I could just, you know, murder him or something," I suggested. I didn't like any of her ideas and that one seemed just as plausible as the others. In fact, it seemed much better.

I looked up at the teacher's table and chanced a look at the greasy bastard. He wasn't really eating much nor was he doing much socializing. He'd push the food around on his plate, glare into space, look down at his plate as though he were contemplating taking a bite and then he'd think better of it and just take a healthy swig out of his goblet. The way he ate bothered me. I was a healthy eater. I could scarf down platefuls and not feel remotely bloated. I grew up sort of poor so any sort of food that was given to me would not be wasted even if I hated it. Well, except for onions. Onions made me fucking hurl.

"God, look at him Tara! I must be fucking demented!"

"Well, that's not really news, Calla."

"Bitch." I couldn't help it. I had to smile.

It took everything I had to not puke whenever he answered his door when I came knocking. It had been two weeks since my startling revelation. For two weeks, I'd managed to keep my sorry arse out of detention and now it seemed as though I were heading into some epic final battle.

"I would ask you to excuse the mess," he said once I was inside. His office was a wreck. Furniture was scattered about the place as though a giant had picked it all up, tossed it in the air and just left it as it landed. The shelves with all sorts of icky ingredients were a mess. The jars were on the floor, on their sides. I had a horrible feeling about this. "But I think it would be rather impolite to be sarcastic to the person who will be cleaning the majority of it up."

"You've got to be shitting me," I groaned. Of course I knew he wasn't and his nasty grin just confirmed that. "What in the hell happened in here?"

"I've been contemplating a change. I was reorganizing."

"But you want me to do the grunt work."

"Well...yes. Exactly."

I sighed and started with the jars. Then it occurred to me that I had no idea where he wanted things. I looked at him and he was just standing there staring strangely into space again. It was like he'd zoned out. He was in another world completely. What in the fuck was up with that?

"Hello?" I said and waved an arm in front of his face. He didn't seem to notice. "Professor?"

I don't know why I did it. Maybe I just really wanted to get it over and done with or maybe I just wanted to get out of detention. The jars I just sat down carefully on the floor and walked toward him, blindly, numb with fear. My brain was shrieking at me to stop but my feet would not obey. They just kept trudging forward until I was practically on top of him. And then I kissed him.

This was no mere peck, let me tell you. I went all the way with it. I'd crushed myself up against him and he'd stumbled into a wall. I had him pinned. I hadn't realized that I'd grabbed a hold of the lapels of his robes but I used them to help myself reach his level so I could kiss him full on the mouth. I suppose I was a bit over zealous. I wasn't an expert kisser. The only boys I'd kissed had been local Muggle boys and I had been drunk and well, all over every one any way. So, really, I considered this my first kiss.

Really, I thought that if I kissed Snape, the feelings would just sort of melt away but the fact was that I enjoyed it. A lot. Not that I could say the same for him. At first I thought he was as he put his hands on my waist but half a second later, he was shoving me off of him. I stumbled and fell back on my arse. One look at his face and I was completely mortified. Snape did not look dazed, he did not look enamoured, hell, he didn't even have the decency to look shocked. He just looked completely disgusted as if I were completely detestable and fuck ugly. Apparently, a kiss from me was the worst thing that could've happened to him.

"What on God's green earth is the matter with you, girl?" Snape snarled at me. I just stood there, gaping, too shocked by his reaction to really respond. Later on, I could understand his reaction. If some one randomly kissed me with out any sort of warning, I'd probably be pretty disgusted too.

"I-I..." I couldn't get the words out. I hopped to my feet and ran out of there as quickly as I possibly could. I didn't stop until I got to my bed. I flung myself down, face first, into my pillow. I made sure my nose and mouth was covered before I screamed into my pillow, as loud as I possibly could. I kept screaming until I was hoarse. I thought I was alone, but I wasn't. Tara had come in after me, and stood at the end of my bed until I finally realized she was there.

"What's wrong?" She sounded alarmed. "What happened?"

I looked up at her. I was too embarrassed to cry. Really, all I could think to do was kill myself and fast. I would make it fast and clean as to not burden others about cleaning up messy remains.

"I'm incredibly dim-witted, Tara," I said in a weak voice. "I did something so utterly stupid, I fear I'll never live it down."

"What did you do?" Tara looked alarmed. Okay, so maybe it wasn't as bad as what she was thinking. "Did you kill Snape or something?"

"Worse," I replied. "I kissed him."

"What?" Tara's jaw dropped as she stared at me in complete wonderment. "Why on earth would you go and do a thing like that?"

"You told me to!" I snapped back. "You said I should relieve the tension!"

"I didn't mean for you to go up to Snape and to start snogging him! My God!"

"Then maybe you should've been more clear!" It was then that I actually did start to cry. Tears leaked out from the corners of my eyes and I ran blindly towards the toilet and went to work trying to drown myself in the sink. I did not have anything to plug the drain with so I just relied on water filling my mouth and nose. Unfortunately, like every other human, my natural reflex to cough and try and dislodge whatever was blocking my breathing passages was in working order. I was also aware of the fact that one could not commit suicide by holding one's breath. I'd tried before. I just ended up passing out and once the conscious effort was gone, everything went back to working order.

"Stop, Calla!" Tara said. Now, to really picture Tara, you had to think of a sparrow or an equally small bird. She was skinny and light which made her fit to be Seeker on the Quidditch field. She was nimble and I couldn't picture her being strong. So, suffice to say, when she grabbed a hank of my hair and ripped me away from the sink, I was a bit shocked. "We can fix this."

"No, we can't!" I moaned. "It's done and over. I can't unkiss him. I mean I could remove his memory but that would be more trouble than it's worth."

"So go down there and explain!"

"Explain what, exactly? Explain that I fancied him and kissed him just so I could get over it? He won't buy it for one second!"

"Well, that's the truth, isn't it? Why shouldn't he believe you?"

"Because he already hates me. Now he just thinks I'm disgusting. You should've seen the look on his face! I've never felt so rejected in my life!"

"I'm sure he was surprised, is all."

"No," I said slowly. "He didn't seem shocked or surprised. He just seemed disgusted! Like what in the hell is so wrong with kissing me, huh? I didn't have garlic, onions or sour kraut at dinner, so I'm sure my breath wasn't horrendous. Am I just disgusting?"

"No, there's nothing wrong with you," Tara said, looking quite exasperated.

"Am I that butch? Isn't that what you said? Maybe that's it! I mean, I grew the mustache so I could go buy liquor without being asked for identification but I didn't think it was that big of a problem!"

I paced back and forth, as though that would help me solve the problem. Really, I was doing anything to not think about it. I traced my steps and watched my feet travel all over the floor, not going in any specific direction, though if I could've, I'd shoot myself into outer space. Out there, I wouldn't be able to breathe if I wanted to. It really was the perfect suicide. No body, no mess.

"What's worse is that it didn't help! Not one bit! Despite how humiliated I was, I still wanted to keep at it!"

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're demented, Calla?"

Well, she had me there.

Kalinda

I was always kind of invisible, almost to everyone, peer or professor alike. There was nothing particularly outstanding about me. Just a mediocre witch, with usually average grades, who rarely spoke or smiled much, and was usually well behaved. I wasn't an outstanding beauty, but I was hardly ugly either. Seeing as I was neither short or tall and just of average height and a bit on the slim side of the scale, I wouldn't stand out in a crowd. So you see, it's no wonder I was practically invisible to all.

Its not that I liked being invisible, but I didn't really see anything special about me and so I felt maybe it was better to remain under the radar. See, the less people you deal with, the less drama you involve yourself in. Besides the more you let people in, the more you open yourself up to being hurt and who needs that? In my experience, letting people in has always lead to disappointment and pain. I guess people really are just shit. Better not to deal with.

Unfortunately, no matter how much I told myself that loneliness was the human condition, I couldn't get used to it. Apparently I'm weak, and I have repeatedly made the mistake of letting people in, despite knowing better. Time and time again, I've proved myself correct in the assertion that humans, especially the male gender, are complete shit and ultimately not worth dealing with. My latest mistake was one Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin and Potions Master as of my sixth year at Hogwarts.

As I have just stated, he started teaching at Hogwarts in my sixth year. I really wish I hadn't continued taking Potions to avoid meeting him because he is such an arse, and its not like I was particularly fond of the subject (it's all the manual labor that I object to, not to mention the foul smells). However, seeing as it's such an important subject and seeing how I was still undecided to my career path, I thought I should continue to take it in order to keep my options open. Besides, I think my mother would have freaked out if I dropped the class. Although, considering he became my Head of House, dealing with him would have been inevitable.

In the beginning, I didn't think very much of him. He was just another teacher. Sure I thought he was particularly fascinating to look at and I started to sketch him so often that it was really quite embarrassing just how many sketches I had of him, but I also recognized immediately that he was someone who it really was for the best to be invisible to. Unfortunately despite my talent for it, that was a non-option being as my Potions partner Calla Bigsby, the only person I ever really talked to, tended to get into trouble quite a bit with him.

I'm not really sure how things changed and became... well I suppose 'fucked up' is the only thing one could term it. I only recall that it was around Halloween, and that I had been in such a rush to leave Potions that day that I didn't realize that I left my sketchbook, a somewhat large leather-bound book, behind in class. I only realized it was missing when it was long past curfew and was searching in my bag for it. I absolutely flipped out when I couldn't find it and nearly tore apart the dorm in search for it when I discovered I must have left it in Potions earlier.

That book was more than just sketchbook, it was like my soul or heart, as I often scribbled thoughts or lines of poetry in it. The thought of anyone finding it and reading it mortified me. Therefore, without much thought I grabbed my wand and exited Slytherin and broke into the Potions classroom. Usually, I wasn't really one for breaking rules, however, this was of the utmost importance to me. I could really give a crap about the consequences if I was caught, but I was determined of not being caught until I had obtained my objective.

Sneaking through the dungeons and even breaking into the classroom was pretty much smooth sailings and I didn't hit a snag until I had reached the table where I sat and got my book. I had just crouched on my knees to grab it, as it had somehow fallen to the floor, when I realized that I wasn't alone in the room. Being as it was so dark and I was so caught up freaking out in my head up until that moment, I hadn't noticed that someone else was in the room. I froze when I heard a spine chilling sound that sounded like an animal being killed.

My heart started pounding wildly and I remained crouching low, frozen in motion while my head shouted WHAT THE HELL IS THAT? For a moment, I stayed there, staring wide-eyed into the darkness, afraid to move or even breathe. Those unholy sounds did not cease and it wasn't until I heard the sniffling and some stifled sobs that I realized that the sounds were coming from a person; someone in what seemed a grievous amount of pain.

The realization didn't exactly make me feel better. I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to do and for a moment I merely remained crouching there, motionless and silent until I figured out what I should do. It was obvious that whoever it was that was in the classroom crying their hearts out, had no idea I was there, and it would be so simple in the darkness to merely sneak back out without ever being noticed. Really, considering that I could be caught by a professor at any moment, I was inclined to go with this.

However, the immense pain of whoever this was made my stomach tighten and I hugged my sketchbook to my chest while frowning deeply. I didn't think I could be so heartless as to walk away from someone who was clearly so distraught, without trying to do something for them. I'd never be able to sleep. I knew myself enough to know that I would toss and turn all night and wonder who had been crying and why they were in so much pain and wouldn't be able to help feeling slightly guilty that I had done absolutely nothing.

Biting on my bottom lip for a moment, I closed my eyes as I shook my head. I knew better than to involve myself in anyone's matters. However, as I got to my feet, I knew that I really had no other choice. Taking in a deep breath, I very silently and slowly approached the area from where the noise came from. Though my eyes had adjusted to the darkness it was still hard to see in the dark. I could really only see the dark outlining of the various desks enough to avoid bumping into anything.

When I got around Professor Snape's desk, I found that the stifled sobs and broken gasps for breath were becoming louder. Edging around the desk, I found a dark silhouette huddled there. It appeared that someone was sitting on the floor, with their back leaning against the side of the desk. I guessed that the person had their knees drawn up to their chest and were hugging them with their arms, however, it was really hard to tell. The only thing I was certain of was that it wasn't a student, as the size of the figure was quite large. It wasn't until I saw the head of the figure raised from resting on its arms that I realized who it was. You can only draw a person so often before you become so familiar with their appearance that even in the blinding darkness you can tell who they are.

"Professor Snape?" I had asked softly and gently, my tone tainted with confusion. I don't think he heard me that first time as he didn't react. Not having a reaction and considering who it was crying, I felt compelled to kneel down. Putting my sketchbook on the floor, I reached a tentative hand and placed it where I could see the curve of a sunk and shuddering shoulder. "Professor?" I said, gripping his shoulder firmly. I was startled and my heart pounded hard as he pulled rapidly away before I saw a painfully bright light shoved in my face.

I turned my face slightly to the side and squinted my eyes shut. "Miss Allen?" I heard a choked voice say. Turning slowly I saw that he was pointing his wand at me, and the tip of his wand was lit up. After a moment, I saw beyond the light and saw that he lay practically sprawled on his back, he was holding himself up on one of his elbows while his other arms was thrust forward and holding his wand towards my face. I grimaced when my eyes could see his pale face in the light. His eyes were very puffy and red. The ridges of his hooked nose were red as well, and his face glistened beneath his eyes, nose and on various places of his cheeks.

I'd never seen a man look so distraught before. My heart broke to see precisely Professor Snape looking quite so hysterical. In the short time I had known him as my professor, the man seemed so calm and collected. The only emotion I'd ever seen him display really seemed to be anger. If it weren't for even showing that, I would have thought he wasn't even human and incapable of feeling anything. It was why I felt my throat closing up with emotion at the sight and my brow furrowed deeply over my eyes which were beginning to water. I had to bite my lip and tell myself that I was being silly and shouldn't be getting worked up about it.

"Are you alright?" I asked very softly when I was sure I had reigned in my stupid emotions, which I refused to allow get the better of me. His face was contorted in pain from what I could see, though his brow was furrowed in confusion as he stared at me. Tears were continually streaking down his cheek and he seemed to be having trouble breathing.

"What the hell are you doing here Allen?" he managed to growl out as he sat up swiftly. I could feel the outrage he felt radiating off him and I could understand, I would hate anyone to see me looking so weak. Feeling slightly afraid and knowing I should have just walked away instead of giving a shit about whoever was crying, I got to my feet while biting nervously on my bottom lip.

"I... I just forgot something and came to get it. I'm sorry for intruding," I murmured as I was about to back away. However, he suddenly reached out for my wrist and grabbed it in a pincer grip and pulled me forward.

"It couldn't wait?" he growled angrily.

By this point my heart was thundering painfully in my chest and I could feel a cold sweat sprouting on my brow and back. However, when I looked down at his face as he stared up at me, glaring through a tear-filled gaze something inside me seemed to snap. He was holding me, and I realized that he didn't want me to leave. Looking down into his eyes, I would have sworn that they pleaded for me to stay. Very slowly, not really sure what I was doing, I knelt back down next to him and slowly reached out for a hand and cupped his cheek. His hand dropped my wrist as he pulled his face back and away from my hand.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, as though my touch had burned him.

"I want to help you," I whispered as I bit on my plump bottom lip and once more tentatively reached out to touch his face, this time with both hands. He furrowed his brow, staring at me in confusion as he lowered his wand to the floor. However, I could still see the light reflecting in his dark eyes. I wasn't really sure what I was doing as I held his face between my hands and leaned forward, my face coming dangerously close to his. I only had a vague idea, and didn't want to think about it too much as I didn't want to chicken out by over-thinking it. "I can make you forget, if only for a while," I murmured softly in a low tone as my lips hovered for a moment over his before I leaned forward and brushed my lips softly against his, for but a moment and I heard him gasp.

Pulling back, I could feel his breath still on my face. I wished for more light, wishing to read his expression, however, seeing that I wouldn't be able to discern the expression on his face at the moment and getting no reaction from him, I once more leaned forward and brushed my lips against his once more tentatively. His were amazingly soft, and I didn't pull away as fast as I did before. "You're my student, and underage, I can't do this," he said, his voice coming out in a rushed croak as he pulled away as much as he could considering I held his face in my hands. "You have to leave."

"You're not my first, Professor, and I think my age is therefore irrelevant. And no one has to know. I just want to help you; I don't want anything more from you," I whispered huskily. At this point, I burned to have more of him and couldn't bring myself to desist from the road I had already embarked on. If I were honest with myself, I sketched him so often because I wanted him. And now, he seemed so within my grasp, that I didn't want to leave. I couldn't.

I ran my hands to the back of his neck and laced my fingers into his hair, fisting it gently as I leaned forward and placed my most convincing kiss on his lips. I moved my lips slowly against his though his remained still. I managed to catch his bottom lip, though it was so thin, between my own and for a moment nibbled lightly on it. This caused him to gasp in surprise and I immediately took advantage of this and slithered my tongue into his mouth. I knew I had him as soon as I teasingly started flicking my tongue against his, as in response he snaked his arm, which dropped his wand, around my waist and pulled me closer.

After that, you can say the rest became history. From that point on, Professor Snape and I became what people would term friends with benefits. However, without the friends part. Snape... he isn't good at making friends and well, considering my own track record, neither was I. I mean really, in order to make friends you need to be willing to open yourself up to them, and that simply was just not Snape and I. Besides, I thought that if we kept things purely about the sex between us, that things would be so much easier. No emotional attachments, just sex.

Unfortunately, that didn't work. Despite knowing hardly anything about the man, I somehow grew attached. As the months went on, I wanted more from him than just sex. I wanted him to love me, to adore me the way my father adored my mother. Hell, I think I would have even settled if he just felt anything at all towards me. However, he didn't and I don't think he'd ever feel anything for anyone. It was why the situation became increasingly frustrating. I wanted more from him, but I couldn't let him know that. In fact, I couldn't even let him know that I cared in the least about him. It just isn't in me.

I was unsatisfied, not sexually, but in every other aspect with this relationship I had with him. However, I couldn't walk away from it because even though Snape didn't care for me, he made it quite clear that he thought of me like his personal property. In his head, I was his. I wasn't even sure I could walk away from it. Besides, I really had no motivation for moving on. I mean the sex was good and sure I was unfulfilled emotionally, but its not like I had any other options. At least the sex made me feel less lonely, even if it was just an illusion.

So I let it carry on into my seventh year. Then, things started to change. I started... feeling things that I had never felt before. At first it was simply astonishment that someone had noticedme and not just that, but thought that I was something special. Soon, this person lit me up in a way that I didn't know was possible. This person made me feel like the things I had to say were actually important, made me feel like I was charming and someone worthwhile to be around. Next thing I knew, I looked forward to seeing this person everyday. The mere thought of them made my stomach get butterflies and I felt like I was just bursting to just speak to them.

It was really something I never felt before. I didn't even know what it was. I didn't even understand how someone could make me feel so nervous, and yet so alive with just a smile and a few words. However, when I started to wonder if perhaps this is what people called love, I couldn't possibly believe how that could be. Especially when considering that this person was not only a professor, but female.

TBC...

Hades'Queen: Well that was the first chapter. Hopefully there weren't very many mistakes. Hope that you read and enjoyed, please review and tell us your thoughts. Perhaps we'll update weekly.