Chapter 4
Severus would not have thought that his life could change more significantly than it already had, but he would have been wrong.
It was in Torquay that the next change occurred.
For it was in Torquay that he first watched.
"I fancy a holiday," Riddle had said unexpectedly one evening after a performance in Shoreditch. "A few days away from the bustle of town will set us up nicely. We are resting next week, are we not?"
Severus had refrained from snorting at this piece of disingenuousness. They were indeed "resting" - - which he'd learnt was theatre talk for "not working" - - and it was Riddle's fault. The man's always-dicey temper had recently got the better of him, and he had hexed an elderly gentleman who had pushed his way backstage to denounce the Querys and their "infernal machine."
It wasn't the first time the magic show had been attacked as the work of the devil, so Severus was unsure why this particular old man had so roused Riddle's fury. But rouse it he did. Riddle had raised his wand to the old man, who dropped to his knees, gasping and clutching his throat, clearly unable to breathe. He'd turned first red, then puce, and had Minerva not intervened, Severus was sure that Riddle would have let the man die.
It had taken quick and clever magic by Minerva and Narcissa to smooth over the incident - - Confundus charms and even, Severus suspected, the dangerous taboo of Obliviation. But some unease must have remained, for the manager later told them that he was going to have to cancel their booking for the next week.
Minerva had been decidedly displeased, and Severus assumed that Riddle's suggestion of a holiday was an attempt to placate her. But no matter - - when he realised that the Riddles intended himself and Narcissa to be part of the party, he was glad. He had never had a real holiday before.
Thus they had found themselves in a small villa overlooking the sea in Torquay. The Muggle owners of the home appeared to be away - - Minerva was very good, Narcissa confided, at locating convenient lodgings that were both luxurious and free.
"It takes quite a bit of initial spellwork," Narcissa explained, "to ensure that no one can see us, but once all the wards are set, we don't need to worry."
Nor did they. It was a thrilling experience, Severus discovered, to walk brazenly amongst scores of Muggles and not be noticed. Shopkeepers didn't even blink when Narcissa helped herself to baubles, and Beckley the house-elf somehow managed to produce delectable meals without any actual cash outlay for food.
Evenings were spent quietly, with books and games and nightcaps of firewhisky. Severus taught Narcissa and Minerva to play backgammon; they taught him a game that turned out to be a magical version of Hazard, with dice that could change form in mid-roll. In their first match, Severus won five knuts from Minerva, who merely smiled and said, "prepare to lose sickles next time, sir."
They seemed to fit well together, the five of them (for Nagini was always part of the group; she sometimes even rested her head in Severus's lap as he played cards, and he now felt not even the smallest inner twinge). Hitherto, circumstance and temperament had made a loner out of Severus; he was surprised to discover that he didn't object to some congenial company.
And then things changed yet again, two days before the holiday ended.
Most of the day had been spent innocuously enough, with an invisible visit to a warm-water spa in the morning and a leisurely stroll with Minerva along the Strand in the afternoon. Riddle had been away - - where he had gone, no one said - - and Narcissa had pleaded a headache. So Severus and Minerva had set out together.
She had held his arm as they'd walked. "You appear to be settling in well, Mr Snape," she remarked. They'd progressed to Christian names in the privacy of the family apartments, but in public, she was always scrupulously formal, even when Disillusioned. "Magic becomes you." She paused, and then added archly, "like a set of well-measured evening clothes."
He wasn't sure how, but he knew the comment was a challenge, a gauntlet thrown. Could he match her in a duel of words?
He rather thought he could.
"Well," he said, "you know what's been said about the magic of well-tailored breeches. I hear that having a perfectly-cut pair can help a man make a match of ten thousand a year."
"No doubt," was all she replied, but he didn't miss the amused quirk of her normally-stern lips or the approving lift of her always-eloquent eyebrow. He'd passed whatever test she'd set him.
They walked on, her body warm against him despite the many layers of clothing that women seemed to require. By the time they returned to the villa, he had been both unsettled and deeply aroused.
He'd still been thinking of that walk when the household retired for the night. Tom had returned in time for the evening meal, and after it, Severus had treated himself to the luxury of reading in bed.
He'd just extinguished his candles, intending to lie in the dark and take care of the needs engendered by the memory of an afternoon spent with a woman he found increasingly compelling, when he heard a soft moaning that seemed to come from the Riddles' bedroom down the corridor.
He should have minded his own business, of course - - Tom and Minerva were a married couple, after all, and conjugal intimacy was to be expected - - but instead, he summoned his dressing gown and left his room. Just in case the moans meant that someone was ill.
The corridor was dark; the only light was that which spilled from the Riddles' open door. Without giving himself time to reconsider, Severus moved towards it and peered surreptitiously in.
The sight that met his eyes stiffened his already half-hard cock: Minerva lay on her back in the large bed, her velvet dressing gown untied to reveal a satin corset of narrow blue-and-black stripes. A frilled petticoat had been pushed up towards her waist, and Severus could see the tops of her stockings. They were black, with red garters, and they ended half-way up her thighs.
It was those thighs, smooth and milky and slightly parted, that caught Severus's breath in his throat and sent his hand under his nightshirt to touch his aching cock. At that moment, he would have given his very life for the chance to bury himself to the hilt between those thin, enticing legs.
As he watched, mesmerised, Minerva gasped, and the sound finally forced his gaze away from her thighs to her face.
The view here was equally arresting. Her head was tipped back, her eyes closed, her mouth open. And her hair - - Severus understood now why a woman's hair was so often called her "crowning glory." Long black coils streamed across the ruffled pillows and outlined Minerva's pale throat; thick locks curled down over the swell of her still-corseted breasts, making him nearly groan aloud with the desire to see them uncovered.
Other details now became clear as well. Severus did not consider himself straight-laced, but he felt a jolt of shock when he realised that Minerva's wrists were tethered to the bed-posts, one on each side, held there by strong magical hands that seemed to spring from the posts themselves.
There were several disembodied hands, Severus saw now: in addition the ones that pinned Minerva in place, there were others stroking her arms and tracing the line of her exposed collarbone. As Severus watched, a hand dipped inside the corset to expose - - finally - - first one pale, dark-tipped breast and then the other.
The sight sent Severus's own hand sliding along his cock; he tightened his grip as he watched the magical hands continue their ministrations.
Suddenly, the long fingers of one of the hands transformed themselves into two hinged golden circlets lined with tiny metal teeth and linked by a gold chain. They were fasteners of some sort, Severus realised, and he stared as the chain threaded its way across Minerva's chest, the shining clamps attaching themselves to her nipples.
She groaned and arched her back, opening her legs further. "Tom, please," she whispered.
Riddle was standing next to the bed, fully-clothed, his arms folded across his chest. He smiled his shivery smile, and his response, when it finally came, was in a voice Severus barely recognised - - soft but implacable, like sheathed steel.
"Not yet," he said. "You must wait. But do feel free to beg." Then he reached over to tug on the shining gold chain, making Minerva gasp. "Or if you're impatient, call for Nagini. She is more obliging than I."
Nagini? The thought was both deeply shocking and deeply arousing, and Severus was mere seconds away from what he had no doubt was going to be the best orgasm of his life, when he became aware of a presence at his side.
Almost simultaneously, two events occurred that shrivelled his erection faster than had even the freezing-cold hipbaths of Primrose Academy:
Narcissa chuckled in his ear, and Minerva opened her eyes to look directly at him.
