Chapter Title from "Tango in the Night" by Fleetwood Mac. Rated MA, *smut/kink warning*

It happened to be a Hogsmeade weekend for the entire school, so Rhiannon's "date" with Snape was actually split evenly between him and McGonagall, while they both took a turn chaperoning students as well. Minerva's time with Rhiannon came first, and was spent on the mission of finding the perfect gown for the Yule Ball. A crisp chill in the air lent itself to holiday shopping, and the buildings of Hogsmeade were already showing signs of transforming from Halloween to Christmas.

Rhiannon positively glowed as she made her way through the cobblestone streets, knowing hardly a single face but greeting each with a grateful smile. Similar to her walk through the castle yesterday on Snape's arm, the students met her with curious gazes. A particularly curious band of young Gryffindors approached her and McGonagall head on.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall," the one spoke. He had freckles, rather pointy ears, and a thick accent, and he looked to his head of house with anticipation, clearly seeing himself worthy of an introduction.

"Good morning, Mr. Finnegan," Minerva replied with a small smile, folding her arms in front of her in a clear standoff. Rhiannon knew she wouldn't budge. The boy and his friends looked pointedly in Rhiannon's direction before finally giving up their unsuccessful efforts and opting for Honeyduke's instead.

The women laughed and continued toward the dress shop, Rhiannon noticing Snape's watchful eye from a street corner nearby. She gave him a tiny wave, and he ducked back into a shop doorway, pretending to supervise a group of students.

"He is rather taken with you," Minerva mused.

Rhiannon shrugged. "Sometimes. You need a weather forecast to predict his moods. Though I think things are getting better."

"His life has not been easy," Minerva admitted. "We all give him a hard time for being so damn ornery and unpleasant, but if any of us walked a mile in his boots we would probably be the same."

Rhiannon nodded. "I'm beginning to learn that."

"And Sirius?" Minerva continued, not even attempting to disguise her nosy curiosity.

"Can also be ornery and unpleasant," Rhiannon answered with a sigh. "Minerva, did you know them well when they were students?"

"Oh, heavens yes, child," the older woman chuckled. She led Rhiannon into a shop with stunning gowns, any of which would steal the show at the Yule Ball.

"And they always hated each other?"

"Always," Minerva answered. "Natural enemies. But they both had more in common than you would think. Both were exceedingly unhappy at home, and both yearned for the opposite of what their home life offered them. Sirius was in love with the Muggle world— anything that would distance him from his family's pureblood obsession. Severus had a Muggle father, who rumor had it was angry and abusive, though he would of course never admit it or ask for help. He longed for a powerful magic that would allow him strength and revenge, so the Dark Arts were very tempting. Severus saw Sirius as a spoiled rich kid squandering his privilege; Sirius saw Severus as worshiping everything he was running away from. Perhaps if they'd had more clarity and maturity, they could have befriended in each other in their suffering. But obviously the opposite happened."

Minerva looked at her thoughtfully. "And now I suppose Dumbledore has given them a reason to hate each other even more."

They came to a stop in front of two dresses on display at the back of the shop, one red chiffon with gold beaded shoulders that draped in feather-like projections and a thin gold-beaded waist belt; the other a dark green satin with a billowing dramatic skirt, its top adorned with intricate black lace. The green was much more a traditional ball gown, while the red was more modern, more of a statement.

"I like the red better," Rhiannon said, not disguising the disappointment in her voice.

"Well, for Merlin's sake, get the red!" Minerva exclaimed. "It's your choice— choose what makes you happy."

"But...he thinks I'm a Slytherin."

"Did Severus Snape transfigure himself into a Sorting Hat? I think not. Besides, we are allowed to wear colors besides those of our house. Hermione Granger wore a lovely blue dress to last year's Yule Ball— or was it pink? I'm getting old; I swear my memory is good for nothing anymore. But yes, the red will look lovely on you, dear. We must hurry though— Severus expects you promptly at noon, and expects me to take over the students."

Minerva purchased the crimson gown for her with funds Dumbledore had provided— still apparently her benefactor after all these years. Since it was her formal debut at the school, they wanted her dressed for the occasion. Rhiannon felt a pang of sadness that Sirius wouldn't get to see her in it, but she was whisked away to the Three Broomsticks to meet Severus before she could wallow in the feeling too much.

"Enjoying your emancipation?" he asked her silkily, his breath visible in the chilly Hogsmeade air. He was of course in his usual garb, an extra layer of black added with heavy wool coat and leather gloves.

"Immensely," she replied. "But even more now that it's time for Part Two."

"Just can't stay away, can you?" Snape mused dryly. Today must be a good mood day; the sarcasm had an amused tinge to it.

"Not at all," Rhiannon returned, planting a kiss on his cheek. She noticed his eyes immediately glance around to note the names of spectators; a wide-eyed, bright blonde Ravenclaw walking alone seemed to be the only one who had taken notice.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape, Professor Snape's friend," she greeted them sunnily.

"Afternoon, Miss," Rhiannon replied before Snape could say anything. She extended her hand to the pretty young girl. "My name is Rhiannon."

Thoroughly tired of playing a wallflower and Snape's arm decoration, Rhiannon decided she would take it upon herself to actually meet some people. This girl seemed harmless enough to be a first attempt.

"Luna Lovegood," the girl answered with an airy smile. Rhiannon loved her immediately. Luna had the same dreamlike quality Rhiannon had always recognized in herself during her Ilvermorny days— the quality of being one with the hidden energies of the world around you and not afraid to explore their depths. For the first time, the idea of being a Hogwarts teacher began to excite her, getting to know all the students and their unique gifts.

"You should not have done that," Snape said dryly, clearly knowing Rhiannon already knew better and just chose to do it anyway.

"I don't see why I have to wait until the ball," Rhiannon argued. "I can just say I'm a visiting professor."

"Yes, if asked. But you need to learn that volunteering information when it isn't asked for is foolish. You are lucky it was only Lovegood. She will find a strangely colored leaf within five minutes and be thoroughly distracted enough to forget."

Rhiannon sighed. "Yes, sir."

"That's my good girl," Snape whispered in her ear, his arm slipping around her waist. It was Rhiannon's turn to glance around nervously, afraid they would be seen by Harry or others close to Sirius.

"You're not being very discreet," she whispered back as he led her inside the pub.

"Touching you does nothing to reveal your identity. People are welcome to speculate about my female companion if they would like." He smirked and stopped at the counter to order their drinks.

"You don't strike me as the butterbeer type," Rhiannon said with surprise, though the frosty mugs with their heaps of creamy foam looked perfectly delectable to her.

"Haven't had it in a decade," he replied. "But I thought you would want to try something new. You can always have your fill of firewhisky in my chambers."

Rhiannon made a face. She'd yet to try the adult beverage herself, but she'd tasted enough on the breath of her two wizards to know she had to be more of a butterbeer girl.

Snape took the mugs to a quiet corner booth and slid in, every single in eye in The Three Broomsticks fixated on the two of them as they took their seats. Rhiannon couldn't believe how shocked they all were at seeing their teacher engage in basic human activities. Did they really think that ill of him?

Yes, they see him as a monster, Rhiannon thought sadly, but knew they only felt that way because he was quite capable of exhibiting such behavior. She hoped the students would not only take well to her, but perhaps reconsider their assessment of Severus as well, if she could work on brightening his mood.

"It's delicious. Thank you, Severus."

"Did you find a dress for the ball?"

"Yes. Minerva had the shop send it directly back to Hogwarts. I...hope you like it."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure I will like it better on the floor."

Rhiannon almost spit out her sip of butterbeer. "I guess I know what we will be doing when we return to the dungeons, if this is the where your mind is today."

"You may have a general idea," Snape replied. "But the specifics may surprise you." His hand reached across the table to grasp hers, his fingers sliding up inside her sleeve, seeming desperate to invade her in whatever way could be considered appropriate for The Three Broomsticks. The table next to them of what Rhiannon would guess to be sixth-year girls dissolved into giggles, which elicited an eye roll from Snape.

"Drink quickly," he ordered.

"You're not getting out of our date that quickly," Rhiannon responded, but she obeyed and took a rather large gulp of butterbeer. Grinning, she then slowly smoothed her finger atop the white creamy foam, making a show of licking it it clean, the tip of her finger delicately and sensuously moving just inside her lips. One girl's eyes at the neighboring table grew about as big as saucers. Snape looked about to burst with both fire and anger.

"You are their teacher," he hissed.

"Oh, Severus, they've seen worse," Rhiannon assured him. "They've done worse."

"Dumbledore is going to regret the subject he has asked you to teach," Snape muttered taking one more swig from his mug with a grimace. "Gods, I can feel my teeth rotting as I drink. Might as well inject sugar straight into the veins. Are you ready to go?"

"Shopping in Hogsmeade, yes. Back to the dungeons, no." Rhiannon wanted to enjoy her freedom a little more, and she admittedly took joy in making him do her bidding.

Surprisingly Snape obliged, allowing them to spend another hour ducking in and out of the village's shops, even suggesting she purchase a few things to outfit her new office, wherever that may be. No one had told her where her classroom or office space would reside, but she was sure Dumbledore had a plan, as he did for all things. He apparently had given Severus funds for her shopping spree just as he had Minerva, again filling that fatherly role from a distance as he had all of her life. Rhiannon felt guilty taking things for free, and she was happy that soon she would be earning her own money.

"Considering I cannot carry anything else, may we return to the castle?" Snape asked.

"Yes, of course." Rhiannon eyed a large, empty metal plant pot outside of Zonko's Joke Shop and promptly transfigured it into a metal cart with a handle instead.

"Impressive transfiguration," Snape commented. "Though we really mustn't touch what isn't ours, don't you think?"

"I'll return it soon, now that I can leave the castle. Besides, nothing can grow this time of year. They'll never even miss it." Rhiannon relieved him of her bags and loaded them onto the cart. Snape leaned over her shoulder from behind.

"Hmm...stolen property...an utterly indecent display of oral fixation in The Three Broomsticks...the list of offenses for which I must punish you grows ever longer, Miss Aspenfell."

"I'm beginning to think you're all talk and no follow-through, Professor Snape," Rhiannon replied. "I'm still waiting."

"You won't be for long," he growled lowly, in a voice that made Rhiannon ache between her legs. He grabbed her arm firmly and pushed her along with the cart back to the Hogwarts gates. She was certain anyone passing by would be terrified for her safety after witnessing his forceful march and grip, but she was giddy with anticipation.

Snape pushed the cart with her purchases into the living room so hard it crashed into the sofa, the impact sending a few bags out and onto the floor.
He didn't release his grip from her until they reached his bedroom. Rhiannon looked up at the snakes entwined in the wooden canopy of the bed and remembered the cool feel of his silvery sheets from the last brief encounter in his room. She felt certain if the Dark Lord interrupted them this time she would kill him herself.

"Take off your clothes," Snape ordered her. It wasn't his normal slow, silky voice but more like he would address students— naughty ones about to earn themselves a detention.

"All of them, sir?" She turned her back to him and began removing her outer coat, taking each button excruciatingly slow.

"Every single one," he answered. "You will be naked and humiliated, filthy slut."

Rhiannon closed her eyes and felt sweat already on her skin from the heat within her. She worked diligently to remove everything in as sensual a way as possible, letting each garment tantalize him as it slid to the floor. She was finally left in only black lace panties, which she purposely left on as she slowly bent over onto his bed, her ass in the air.

"Is that good, Professor?"

"Are you hard of hearing? I said every piece of clothing. On the floor."

Rhiannon looked over shoulder at him and smiled. He had only removed his outer wool coat, everything else still buttoned up tight as he stood, feet firmly planted, arms crossed in front of him.

"I'm afraid if you want these off you'll have to come get them, Professor."

"If I come to get them, Miss Aspenfell, I will make you pay. Along with penance for your long list of transgressions. And I feel I will grow rather tired administering all these punishments and will thus have to punish you for taking all of my energies. Do you think your body can handle such, or should you beg for mercy now?"

"I'm begging, but not for mercy," Rhiannon replied. "Begging for you to teach me how to be a good girl for you, Professor." She was still bent over his bed, naked save for the tiny black lace covering her behind. It was only a few seconds she had to wait but it seemed like an eternity as she bit her lip in anticipation of his next move.

His hand came roaring onto her backside without warning, leaving a burn like twenty stinging hexes in its wake, as he did not hold back and repeated the movement several times. Rhiannon screamed and lost the balance on her arms, her upper body falling into the snake bed that had figured so prominently in her fantasies. Snape took the lacy panties in his mouth, his teeth ever so slightly grazing one of the blistering spots on her behind, causing her to jump. The panties slid to the floor and were replaced by his tongue, which licked a forceful line from her clit to her dripping wet opening and back again. She was face down on the bed and could not see him, only feeling the amazing pleasure his tongue created contrasted with the searing pain from his slaps.

"Severus," she moaned. "Yes...please don't stop." Just as his projection from the Eros Absentia had suggested, he was an expert with his mouth. Rhiannon wasn't surprised he was so adept at something so technical— the movement of his lips and tongue were synchronized as they hit all of her most sensitive spots, perfectly timed, like a carefully crafted spell. The intensity building almost brought tears to her eyes it was so good.

"You're enjoying this too much," he commented, his voice sending a vibration straight inside her. "That means it's time to stop."

Rhiannon shook her head. "No, please."

"Yes, my dirty whore." Snape flipped her over onto her back, the impact of her sore behind on the mattress making her wince. He was still fully dressed, indicating a commanding presence in contrast to her naked submission. His hands came up under her arms to lift her back toward the headboard, then he retreated to the foot of the bed and stood, removing his wand from his pocket. With a few expert strokes the wooden snakes from the canopy above transformed into smooth ebony leather, disentangling themselves from their union and instead slithering down the bedposts and up Rhiannon's sides, tying her arms to the wooden posts.

Rhiannon let out a gasp and glanced up at their heads, red eyes gazing back at her with a blazing electricity as if they were alive and possessed. She looked back to Severus, standing at the foot of the bed with a half smile, his own black eyes full of power. He slowly began to remove his robes and suit, and she watched with rapt attention, realizing he'd been more or less dressed for all of their previous encounters. The snakes around her arms moved slightly every few seconds, tightening and adjusting their grip, and Rhiannon was a bit embarrassed at the pleasure their squeezing movements gave her. She was awash with desire between her legs, a pool beginning to form on the green satin of the duvet below her.

Severus had finished the agonizing task of undoing his buttons, his chest now bare in front of her. His body was broad and powerful, and Rhiannon's bound hands ached to caress the contours of his chest. Her eyes followed the trail of black hair down to his trousers, and she saw him standing fully at attention.

"Please put it in me," she begged. She had never felt a need like this before, her entire center pulsating in the rhythm with the squeezes of the serpents on her arms.

Snape smiled maliciously. "Oh, I will." His pants hit the floor and he climbed atop the bed with her. Rhiannon breathed a sigh of relief, opening her legs, but he roughly shut them. He instead brought his hard cock in line with her mouth, forcefully grasping her jaw and forming her lips into the perfect vessel to accept him. Rhiannon took a breath as he pushed into her mouth, trying to relax her throat to accommodate his huge size. She would normally have teased and licked and taken a bit at a time, but Severus was having none of it, bucking his hips roughly and forcing her to suck his entire length.

"Mm," she whimpered.

"Are you learning your lesson?" he asked, gazing down at her through black curtains of hair.

"Mmm-hmm," was of course all she could say.

Snape backed out of her. "I want a proper answer."

"Yes, sir."

He brought his head down to nuzzle her breasts, then sucked one firmly into his mouth, eliciting a cry from her. His hand kneaded the other forcefully, ensuring she would bear bruises in yet another spot. His mouth moved to the spot just below her ear and he bit down, beckoning another scream. Rhiannon knew he was mentally tallying all her perceived transgressions and punishing her for each. Just as forcefully as he had closed her legs he now opened them, positioning himself between them.

"Do you want this?" he asked her in a low growl.

"Yes, Professor. More than anything."

"What will you do for it?"

"Anything you command." The snakes tightened their grip and forced her upper body upward, almost causing her to hang in mid air. Rhiannon blinked at the serpents from the bottom part of the canopy, now transformed and loosening themselves, slithering around her ankles and calves this time, lifting the bottom part of her body as well. She was magically suspended a few inches above the mattress, unable to move and completely at the mercy of the serpents and their master. Her muscles ached with tension and she knew she would feel the effects of this for days to come.

Severus came onto his knees, his cock in perfect alignment with the way the snakes bound her for him. He thrust into her with a determined rhythm, eyes locked on hers just as last time. Rhiannon closed her eyes and let her head fall back as he filled her, once again overcome with the sheer pleasure of their perfect fit. It was like every nerve ending aligned, every magnificent button pushed.

"I should make you look at me," Snape muttered aloud, and she wasn't sure if he'd meant to. Rhiannon willed her head to come back up, even though it took extra energy in the position the snakes had forced her into. His eyes were beginning to transform as they had last time, allowing her to see the swirls of magic behind them, ever so subtly within the black orbs.

With a wave of his hand he bid the snakes to lower her down onto the mattress, though they still remained wrapped around her. She felt their cool softness as an extra layer of thrilling sensation on her skin. Snape lowered onto her and resumed his thrusts, his mouth now tender as his tongue sought hers, his kiss full of passion now and not anger. Rhiannon returned his kiss hungrily, lifting her hips to meet his, feeling the serpents tighten their grip on her arms and legs as the pressure mounted in her lower belly. She was aware of their fiery eyes releasing heat into cold dungeon air, the magic surrounding them dark but beautiful. It felt so incredibly right.

"Severus, I love you," she whispered, unable to stop the words.

He responded by deepening his kiss; allowing his eyes to close as if overcome with emotion instead of fixated on perfecting their connection. She knew he would never consent to such unless he too was overwhelmed with feeling, and she took it as the best response she would get for now. Her arms longed to embrace him, but she was still bound. His access to her mind told him so, and he snapped his fingers to release the serpents back up into the canopy. Rhiannon's arms and legs immediately enveloped him and they rode their release to completion as one, both breathless, both shaking as he spilled his seed into her. She felt his full weight collapse onto her body, his head dropping onto her shoulder. She stroked the black hair away from his face and kissed his cheek.

"I love you too." It wasn't a passionate statement. He said it like he would state a fact in Potions class. But as with all things he said, it was said authority, and she knew it to be true.

There Rhiannon was— two wizards in love with her, two wizards she had spoken the words to herself. She had deep marks embedded in her arms from the snakes' hold on her, a bite on her neck and breast, her other breast bruised, her ass red and on fire from his punishments. Every muscle ached from being suspended in the air. But all the physical pain and emotional confusion was a blur as she came down from her high. It was as if they could avoid all of the agony of the war itself as long as they remained locked in passion together. It was a foolish thought, but one she could bask in for a moment at least.

Rhiannon kissed the smooth skin of his shoulder and watched Severus rest, knowing he welcomed the brief moment of relief from his stress and strain as well. His left arm was buried beneath the pillow so she could not see the Dark Mark, but she wondered if it knew— if it reacted to their foray into dark magic in the bedroom— if it took some satisfaction. God, she hoped not. How sick and twisted was it that her own father's mark lay on the body that gave her so much satisfaction? It was then she understood that beneath everything enticingly dark also lay something nauseating. It was a constant battle she was sure Severus knew well.

"I will get some potions for your pain," he told her, slowly becoming more alert. His hand caressed her gently and he pressed several soft kisses into her cheek, her neck, the side of her breast. "That's the beauty of dark sex in the magical world. We can heal the after effects. Muggles just have to suffer."

Rhiannon laughed, excited at his words and the promises of future torture they promised. Snape healed every wound and ache with a masterful hand, massaging her, bidding her to drink both pain relief and contraceptive potions. After he finished she drifted into the most peaceful of slumbers, secure in his powerful embrace, but with the knowledge that tomorrow night was her promised union with Sirius.

The Eros Absentia was likely arriving soon by Owl Post if it hadn't already. Rather than feel nervousness or guilt, Rhiannon felt excited that she would be able to bring him even a fraction of the pleasure she had just enjoyed. She fell asleep daring to imagine herself nestled with them both, Severus on her left, as he was now, his head resting in the crook of her arm, his arm possessive around her stomach. Sirius on her right, her head buried in his chest, his lips against her forehead. She knew it would never, ever happen and she hoped she was occluding well enough that Severus could not see the vision. But she relished the peace and security she felt as she pictured it. As long as she kept it to herself, she knew it was a place she would often go, an adventure, a thrill, and the truest desire of her heart.