are you not entertained?


The initial plan was to nick them one by one in the dark, letting them hear the screams of each as he ripped them in half. Instincts told him to go for the other beast in the room or start with the children, then the smell of blood coming from Moody made it even more interesting. He knew her scent, but Moody had tortured him with that before. False advertising under even falser promises.

He didn't believe it was her, not at first. Seeing is believing, but he couldn't trust his eyes. She was in his dreams, dancing in the fire and waving at him from the corner of his eye. His mind and memory were too far gone and blurred with longing past, torturous present, and haunting future.

Severus knew she couldn't see him, yet she knew exactly where he was and dove in headfirst. He had been in mid-transformation when her small frame collided with him and folded into his welcoming darkness. Her arms wrapped tightly around his middle and face buried in his chest. The smoke from his growing snout, the sharpening teeth, and crimson eyes immediately receded. All the air left his lungs as they slipped through the wards and left the Order in chaos.

At one point they were flying, eventually, they landed yet he did not remember where. He vaguely remembered a field, being pressed against a tree with her hands cupping his face. When her skin touched him, a new sensation took over. Like a poison seeping into his bloodstream with every beat of his ashen heart.

"I will… take us… away," he struggled to keep his breath, every exhale coming out in huffs as if his chest were too heavy.

He fell into sweet sedation with every second she held onto him. Her eyes focused on him with lust and love. He fought to keep his eyes open, trying to memorize her features again. She held up her fingertips to his upper lip, wiping something off his face. He was bleeding from his nose from trying to inhale so hard.

Her blood-covered hand moving past his head to draw runes into the bark of the tree behind him. He tried to stand up straight, he was ready but not able to continue their travel far from the prison of England.

"They're coming…" he tried to fight it, his pull into her too great. The magic she had on him far greater than any Dark Lord in Britain. "I made… I have… your voice…" he was trying to tell her he had the potion to give her the ability to speak.

She tilted his head slightly and softly shook her head, slowly leaning her face towards his. He exhaled a raspy breath, parting his lips, and leaned into her with heavy eyes.

She pressed her lips to his and his lungs expanded, inhaling for what felt like the first breath from being submerged in the darkness for too long. Though his arms felt heavy, he slung them around her and gripped handfuls of her dress.

His breathing increased loudly through his nose as he pressed his lips to hers hungrily. The air around them thick with magic and humidity of his burning fever evaporating the nightly dew on the surrounding ground.

She pulled away from him, allowing him to catch his breath, rubbing her nose against his and placing light pecks on his lips.

"Please…" he begged, "please don't leave."

'Shh…' she pressed her lips to his again, rubbing the pad of her thumb on the softest part of his cheek.

"The world is so cold without you."

Tears immediately formed in her own eyes when a small tear fell from his, hitting her thumb. When their lips met again, her right hand snaked around his head and activated the runes she'd drawn in his blood.

Severus was too lost in her, the pull she had on him was astounding. She took everything from him. His breath, energy, and magic. A drug he'd happily overdose given the chance.

He struggled to keep his eyes open, he didn't know where they were, but now he was on his back on a soft surface without his robes. He didn't mind because she was on top of him, straddling him with her tongue running from the hollow of his neck, across his Adam's apple to his jaw.

Once flesh against flesh he was the one writhing on the sheets in ecstasy. She had taken over and he was more than happy to let her use him for whatever she needed. He hissed in affirmation and rolled his head. He didn't remember when her dress came off, but he was certainly grateful it did because his hands found the heat of her skin inebriating.

When she slid onto him, he cried out. A deep sob of longing, the emptiness that bottomed out in the hollow of his chest filling with the one thing it needed. She was slow at first, taking her time to press kisses against his lips and putting one hand to his scar covered chest.

'Tell him of Slughorn'

His mind tried to catch up with what she just whispered to him. Why the hell would she say his name at a time like this?! He opened his mouth to respond but her hips twisted, and she began moving. Her tongue and teeth nicking and sucking on his neck. His thoughts long gone of their former Potion's Professor.

He tried his hardest to keep his eyes open, to bask in the sight of his long-gone beloved riding him into oblivion. She sat up, holding her palms together briefly before spreading them apart quickly. A small flame appeared, and she quickly slammed it down into his chest. Flames flashed brightly before seeping into his skin through the long incision scar running down his chest. The glow flickered through her palms and his skin, going from a brilliant white to a deep crimson red.

Air was replaced with flame and his body shook from the overwhelming heat and sensation. He climaxed, tossing his head back and gripping her thighs tightly as she continued to slam down on him. It started in his chest, moving to the pit of his stomach and outward. Like the most powerful warming charm hit him while he drank a euphoric elixir. The tension in his overworked muscles relaxing and turning him into a sweaty mess.

She picked up her pace, putting a hand next to his head and the other on his shoulder to keep her balance. Eventually, she started to grind her hips against his and he all but encouraged her to continue her abuse on him. Whispering encouraging words and begging her not to stop until he perished from dehydration.