Prompts: Hide-and-Seek (#320), Strawberry, Tattoo

Vervain Jaimie Potter was perhaps not the most beautiful of girls. Nor was she considered sexy exactly. While she wasn't ugly by any means, nor even plain, there were facts that contributed to her less than active love-life. The foremost being she didn't exert a great amount of energy on her appearance.

More often than not, at least by boys her age, she was considered one of the boys, and had more male friends than female ones. Vervain wasn't exactly troubled by this fact, as she'd never really come across a boy she was more than passingly interested in. And for the better part of the last two years, she had a secret, very casual, friends-with-benefits situation going on with George Weasley.

And no, she wasn't afraid that things would get messy and complicated by one of them falling for the other. Mostly because George tended to put fun, mischief and his brother, before absolutely everything else. And because, quite often, Vervain felt like a third wheel when she was with the twins.

Frankly, there was no way she could get emotionally attached to a boy whom she'd never be a priority to. Which, really, simplified things a good deal.

Unfortunately, the one person she seemed to obsess over... whom she couldn't get out of her head and made her heart race anytime he was present... well he wasn't exactly an appropriate option. In fact, he was decidedly inappropriate.

But then, Vervain had never flinched away from doing what she wanted just because it was wrong.

That whole saintly Potter characteristics... she felt she'd rather left all that to her little brother. And while she'd been reprimanded many times, mostly by McGonagall, about the example she was setting for her little brother, she'd always only had one response to that,

"I am leading by example... I make all the bad choices so my little brother knows what not to do."

That bit of sass always got her the same withering look from the older witch. But Vervain felt that, despite the tightly pressed lips and the disapproving glare, that McGonagall was actually very fond of her fire.

She just didn't think McGonagall would ever admit to such a thing.

Although, sometimes she did wonder if her amoral behavior had rubbed off even a little on her baby brother. It was simply not something she wanted. She had always wanted Harry to be better than her. To have more than she'd ever had.

"You want to sneak down into the dungeons, and want me to distract Snape... why?" Vervain asked uncertainly when her fifteen-year-old brother approached her in the Gryffindor common room. Briefly, her hazel eyes cast about the room, wondering where the hell Hermione and Ron were and if they were in on whatever her brother was up to, but she saw the two huddled very closely together on the other side of the room, apparently working on homework.

Vervain turned to look back at her little brother, who despite being two years older than her, was actually her exact same height. If anyone looked at them side by side, they might wonder if they were in fact twins.

"Because you're my big sister and you say I can always come to you if I need anything," Harry replied trying to pull the big, doe-eyes she'd patented.

"That look doesn't work on me, kid. And you don't have the large, round eyes to pull it off," Vervain informed him dryly. "Besides, I'm not saying I won't do it, but I'd like to get a general idea of what you're up to."

Of course, she really should be jumping at the opportunity for a reason to... try to tempt the man more. She was quite sure, she was getting him near his breaking point. And if she weren't so determined, she'd have been put off by the fact that he always left her high and dry, so to speak. Though, more like... moist and unfinished, to be frank.

"Can we not, talk about this here?" Harry stated through tight-lips, casting a look about the very full common room, considering it was eleven pm. But then again, it was Friday.

Vervain gave a long suffering sigh before tossing aside the magazine she'd been lazily flipping through. In truth, she was bored out of her mind. A traipse through the castle, to the dungeons, was really rather welcome.

Following Harry out of the portrait, they made their way down the empty corridor, Harry pulling the Marauders map from his hoody's pocket.

Like her brother, outside of classes, Vervain didn't have much in the way of clothes, but for her cousin Dudley's hand-me-downs and because she was a girl, they were slightly bigger on her than they were on Harry. Despite the fact that she had boobs roughly the size of grapefruits... give or take a few centimeters.

She rather felt, she had Mrs. Weasley to thank for that, as her breasts were quite a bit smaller the previous year (but then... she'd never been so well-fed in a singular summer, which accounted for the other growths her body acquired).

Presently, she was wearing black leggings she'd been given by Tonks, and a black hooded sweatshirt that fell almost to her mid-thigh. The sleeves were so long, that they fell past her second knuckles and her breasts were a barely discernible hill amidst the faded black, but very soft, cloth.

"So... what's this about?"

"I'm... kind of meeting Tracey," Harry mumbled almost inaudibly, scratching his neck as he averted his gaze.

Vervain almost froze midstep as her mind processed what he just said. A part of her wanted to jump up and down and emit a squeal.

Tracey Davis was the bookish, nerdy, almost-invisible little sister of her best friend, Logan Davis. From the moment Vervain had laid eyes on the auburn-haired first year, with black, rectangular rimmed glasses and a sarcastic dry wit to match her pretty, jade-green eyes, Vervain had got it into her head that Tracey and Harry would look so cute as a couple. She could just hear their glasses clinking against each other awkwardly as they attempted their first little kiss.

Then all her plans, sort of went down the drain when Tracey was sorted into Slytherin. That had been rather unexpected. Vervain had thought that Tracey would be joining her elder sister, Logan, in Ravenclaw.

Not that she really gave up hope. Or stopped dropping hints or teasing the pair when she was around either one of them.

Though, she wasn't aware she'd gotten anywhere with either of them. This new development from the pair, who'd only ever had a tentative friendship when there were no Slytherins around to see, was a complete surprise. And Vervain almost felt wounded that Harry hadn't talked to her about it before.

But...a midnight rendezvous? What exactly are they up to? Oh... could they... ewwww, that's so wrong...

"Well... not that I want details, but as your older sister, I have to make sure you're smart about this Harry," Vervain stated with a frown, trying to get over the ickyness she suddenly felt as they proceeded to take the nearest, deserted staircase.

"Jaimie, you already told me about the mechanics... besides we're not-" Harry groaned, turning scarlet.

"I know I gave you that talk already, that's not what I mean. I'm talking about you two being being safe and smart about it. There are spells, charms, potions you have to know," Vervain stated very seriously, completely ignoring her slight discomfort and Harry's complete embarrassment on the subject.

"Padfoot... already told me about those, and showed me how-" Harry admitted, completely embarrassed and mortified to be having this conversation again, especially with his sister.

"Pfft, like I'm going to trust Padfoot, he's more irresponsible than I am," Vervain huffed. And it was true. While with her own life she was a bit careless, she'd always been very mature and responsible where Harry was concerned. She'd always put him first, for as long as she could remember.

"Remus was there!" Harry stated, now his entire face the shade of a ripe tomato.

"Oh... well then... just keep those in mind then," Vervain replied, trying to not think about the fact that she might just be helping her little brother lose his virginity. She mentally shivered at how... wrong that was. Granted she knew her brother was growing up... she was only two years older than him after all... but he was still her baby brother.

For a while, they were silent as they marched, now trying to focus more on the route they were taking in avoiding teachers or Prefects that were out paroling. The closer they got to the dungeons, the more careful they had to be.

As they made their slow way down into the bowels of the castle, Vervain started to wonder just what her plan of action with Snape was going to be. It wasn't reasonable for her to be down in the Dungeons, after all. Especially after curfew.

That is not to say that she'd never been to see Snape in the dungeons at peculiar hours. But... that was usually when her period was about to start, or when she was on her period, and she simply couldn't stand the pain any longer. Snape was, after all, the only one who could brew a potion that took care of her horrible cramps, and extremely painful migraines.

But... she wasn't on her period. Nowhere near to it in fact. She couldn't exactly pretend that she was down there for something. And Snape was going to be suspicious and very wary of her as it was.

Thus far, none of her seduction attempts had gotten her anywhere farther then they'd gone on the night of the Yule Ball. The night which effectively started her mission, considering it was the first time she realized that Snape was actually attracted to her.

Unfortunately, he'd proceeded to ignore her existence for the rest of the year, and considering he was a spy, he was very good at avoiding her.

Luckily, as she'd turned of age that May, she and Sirius had planned for her and Harry to move into Grimmauld Place as soon as school let out. With her taking guardianship of Harry, the blood magic that protected him, was transferred to their right and proper home of Grimmauld Place. Which was turned into headquarters for the Order, of which Snape happened to be part of.

Alas, it did her little good.

XX

Vervain wandered into the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld place. She wasn't sure what time it was, but her internal clock was telling her it was about two in the morning, but she couldn't sleep. She'd spent something close to an hour, tossing and turning in bed, kicking off the sheets and covers, taking off her shorts and socks, all to no avail.

She was simply, unbearably hot that even with her hair tied up in a high, sloppy ponytail, she was still sweating. She was down to nothing but Dudley's oversized t-shirt and her tiny, white bikini bottoms. The t-shirt she wore was light blue and so tattered and even torn on the collar, that it showed more of her collarbone and shoulder than it should.

Completely oblivious to everything but her miserably overheated skin, she stepped up to the cabinet with the freezing charm and popped it open, bending over to look for something refreshing to press against her damp skin.

Her eyes landed on a bowl of nearly frozen strawberries; she could see the frost covering the small, lusciously-red fruit. A grin almost appeared on her face, as she recognized her favorite fruit and pulled the bowl out. She almost sighed in contentment to feel the cool bowl against her hot palms.

Moving over to the counter, she sat up on it, placing the bowl between her thighs. She shivered slightly as the cold bowl touched the heated and sensitive skin of her upper inner thighs, causing her nipples to harden. She could almost feel the coolness that radiated the bowl against her warm center.

Taking a handful of the frozen fruit, she pressed it to her neck and almost flinched at the contrast before settling in and closing her eyes. Absently, she picked one of the strawberries still in the bowl, and popped it into her mouth. A little moan of delight escaped her lips as she savored the cold, sweet and slightly sour taste of it in her mouth.

"What..." Vervain's eyes popped open, a gasp escaping her lips and almost choking on her bite, when the dark voice called to her hoarsely. A few strawberries escaped her grasp, rolling almost off her body and fell to the floor. "The hell are you doing Miss Potter?"

Sitting at the table, dressed in many layers of black, was none other than the man that occupied all of her fantasies. Though, it was difficult to really make him out, considering how dimly lit the kitchen was. A singular gas lamp on the long, kitchen table and two gas lamps on the wall, burning low, were the only sources of light in the very large room.

"Enjoying a very late night snack?" she quipped, now trying to ignore the sudden throbbing sensation between her legs as her blood seemed to boil even hotter.

She could just imagine him scowling. She thought she could feel the heat of his glare as he suddenly stood. He faltered for a moment, and she thought he might be wondering how wise it was to approach her any closer.

A tinge of desire rocketed inside her at the idea that she could make this man so question his self-control, that he was hesitant to even approach her.

Feeling her hands become sticky as the frost on the strawberries still in her hand, melted and combined with the fruits juice, she put her handful back in the bowl.

"I hope you don't plan on putting those back, after you've hand your hands all over them," Snape stated, his voice tinged with disgust.

"Not that this isn't a pleasure," Vervain smirked, raising her sticky palm so that it was level with her face while looking at Snape in askance. Her over-heated skin seemed to go up a few degrees and she felt sweat bead along her hairline. "But what are you doing here?"

An answer was not immediately forthcoming as Vervain proceeded to lick the sticky residue off her hand in a deliberately slow and sensual fashion. She was startled when his hand was suddenly clasped her wrist in a firm grip, pulling it out of reach of her tongue.

"Stop that," he hissed irritably, his dark eyes glistening at her. Vervain would have thought the blackness of his eyes, and that sparkle inside them scary, if she did not think the man impossibly sexy. She could feel her outer lips part slightly at his velvety voice, the grip he had on her, and the way he looked down at her.

"But my hand was all sticky," she pouted, trying her best to ignore how damn hot she was.

She saw his lips part, she thought she could see her lips twist in a snarl, when suddenly his gaze flitted to her left. Vervain almost felt petulant that something had drawn his gaze from her until he opened his mouth, and she found he was distracted by the skin above her left collarbone.

"What is that?" he asked, sounding confused and... concerned?

"What?"

"There is a rather large... blemish or bruise... above your collarbone," he stated, causing Vervain to furrow her brow. A moment later, Snape had released her wrist and pulled out his wand. He cast a lumos, that forced her to turn away from his wand tip, as it was very bright and blinded her. "Is that a.. a fox?"

"OH! That's Strawberry," Vervain replied, as she realized he was referring to her recently acquired, magical tattoo. It was a fox, with a coat of very light red fur that, when sitting, was approximately two inches tall. "Is the little vixen perched on my collarbone?"

"Strawberry?" Snape asked, completely nonplussed.

"That's what I named her, you see she's very special and spelled to give off the scent of strawberries. Though, you'd have to get much closer to smell her, I guess," Vervain explained, trying to look up at Snape mischievously. Not that she was really able to, as she couldn't turn her head too much as he was still pointing a very bright light to her collarbone.

Snape glowered at her, before he turned back to inspect the tattoo.

"It's gone!"

"Oh yes, she's a playful little thing. Likes to play hide and seek," Vervain grinned, before looping her legs around Snape and pulling the startled man into her center, having removed the bowl of strawberries from between her thighs when he'd first grabbed her wrist. Snape lowered his wand, sputtering for a moment as he tried to pull out of the embrace of her legs without actually touching her. Sufficed to say, he wasn't getting anywhere.

"Do you want to play hide and seek with Strawberry; she seems to want to play with you," Vervain breathed huskily, bracing one of her arms behind her so that she could press her center against Snape.

She contemplated that she might be coming on a little strong, but in her fevered state, she didn't care. And she was shameless enough to enjoy flustering him like this.

A breathy moan escaped her parted lips when she felt how hard Snape was against her.

The feel of his hands on her bare thighs sent liquid fire through her. They skimmed in an almost feather-light touch against the smooth, and pale skin. Unfortunately, it seemed he had enough of his senses still with him, despite the fact that she'd hooked her free arm around his neck.

"Miss Potter, you're exceedingly warm. I believe you may have a fever," he stated, his voice hoarse as one of his hands moved to her hips, to keep her from grinding against him while the other moved to press against her forehead. "Bloody, Gryffindor..." he suddenly muttered as he retracted his hand from her forehead and Vervain's fell limply from around his neck. She was feeling very dizzy suddenly, her head spinning and her vision becoming blurry. She felt like her eyes were too warm, that the moisture was evaporating from them. "You'd die of fever and wouldn't even know because of your damn, crazed hormones."

Her legs had fallen away from him, so that she suddenly found herself in his arms, but bridal style instead of facing him.

"Crazy about you," Vervain giggled deliriously as one of her hands tried to grab hold of his robes. The rocking sensation, told her he was now walking. "Where we going?"

"I'm putting you to bed, Miss Potter. And then you're going to take a fever reducing Potion and go to sleep," he whispered to her in an irritated growl.

"Are you grouchy because you can't fuck me now?" Vervain slurred, struggling to remain conscious. Snape made no response to her question, so that she wondered if she'd even uttered it. "Why won't you fuck me?" she asked, opening her eyes with determination and looking up at him. From this vantage point, she got a very unflattering angle of his nose, but she still wanted that nose pressed against her twat.

"Because I don't take advantage of teenage girls," he muttered darkly through gritted teeth as he started to ascend the stairs.

"But I want you to fuck me..." her voice trailed off as she lost the battle against the raging fever in her body. However, she almost thought she heard him respond, or dreamt it at least.

"You're going to be the death of me."

TBC...

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