Ironic how despite the chill of the Professor's fingers and lips, his rather callous embrace had left me with some spark that ignited and was quickly fanning into an all engulfing fire. I kept raising my hand (rather stupidly) to my face to touch my mouth, reassuring myself that it had indeed occurred.


He hadn't closed his eyes, or even blinked, for that matter. Neither did I, mostly out of shock and wariness; I was fascinated by the Professor, but I did not trust him.


Here. Take her, my instructions were terse to the boy, and I must have looked distraught, for he shied away from me. Obviously, he knew not to tread upon the powerful's personal problems (excuse the alliteration).


Wait, boy, I called to him, and he turned upon his heel, swiftly facing me, what is your name?. The reddish eyebrows met with the fringe of his hair, he was so surprised. But relief also shown there, for the freckles on his face eased themselves into a speckled, sun dappled smile.


, he replied, and I noticed he stuck out his chest a bit, and placed his fist on his hip.


Well, Hayden, take Desdemona here, and brush her and feed her. You might water her as well, I see her provisions are getting low, I stood on toes as I said this, glancing into the otherwise perfectly kept stall.


Oh, you named her, ma'am?, he asked me, taking the reigns from my hands. I nodded, rather pleased with the name and its tragic implications. Lucius had never approved of my voracious appetite for muggle literature, but he allowed me to designate the portion of the library to my needs and whims.


Yes. After a character in a very famous play, I replied at length, well, good bye, Hayden. Tomorrow, perhaps?. He nodded, in an agreeable, nine year old fashion and led the horse gently to her stall.


The house was looming and ominous in the fog, gray stones sticking out in patches. On the whole, first glance would have rendered it a decaying masoleoum, but second inspection would have seen the glorified torture hall it really was. Odd, how the Professor had suddenly sown rather rebellious seeds in my heart that forced me to abhor my formerly respected and admired (note: love does not apply, dear reader) husband, and my once equally adored home.


I wandered into the library, kicking off my boots only to turn and find them gone: courtesy of the house elves. I sank into the cushion of my chair, my rear end not quite used to the forceful strides that my new horse made with dainty vigor. I propped my feet up onto the ottoman, and frowned. The wood must have worn through the cushion of the seat, for something hard and uncomfortable was nipping at my back. I reached behind me and pulled out the culprit: the book the Professor was reading.


I laughed still, at his eccentric choice of book, though he had probably never encountered it as a muggle fairy tale. I opened the book to his page, and something fluttered out.


I picked the piece of parchment, so miniscule I would have missed it had it not flown directly in my line of vision. It had the Professor's smooth, elegant, yet still scrawled writing upon it: I suppose there are many rabbit holes in this house. Perhaps you would join me for tea. Midnight, shall we? It makes for a very atmospheric touch. S.


I smiled. How appropriately cryptic of him. I folded it and placed it in one of my pockets. I heard Lucius' smooth stride enter the library and stand behind me, thinking he had entered unnoticed. I kept reading, mostly for his pleasure, but also because I was nervous that he had seen the note.


He leaned down and grasped the book. Alice in Wonderland? Aren't we digressing a bit?, he said, rather arrogantly. He gave me a coldly affectionate kiss on my head.


Why, Lucius, you sound as if you've read it, I replied, innocently as I could muster. I was still smarting from his anger.


Lourdes, don't be so childish. I apologise about this morning, and realise that I was entirely in the wrong. Still, I was thinking only of your pleasure when I bought the horse. I assure you that Aries was quite content to die; he had the kindest mistress in all of England, Lucius sounded rather imploring. I smiled secretly to myself; perhaps I had more power than I had estimated.


Why is the Professor here?, I asked suddenly, turning around to face my husband' s eyes. It was no surprise when they immediately lowered.


Why do you ask? Has he upset you?, his voice had a threatening growl to it.


Don't be silly, Lucius, I scoffed, and immediately saw that it was a mistake. His eyes held that distinct zeal, and I could practically see his bloodhound's nose sniffing the air with a twisted excitement.


I can always see to it that he never bothers you again, he whispered into my ear, hands wrapped around my throat in a more vulnerable way then I would have liked. I knew Lucius' morals and priorities were wholly misplaced, and that if I had given the indication, the Professor would certainly be a grievous position. For some reason, I felt inclined to protect him, to shelter him from Lucuis, despite the fact he had been none too pleasant to me.


He hasn't bothered me. In fact, we've been rather pleasantly reminiscing, I said shortly, mostly because I was panicking. I heard Lucius snicker, and his hands dropped themselves from my throat, and traveled down towards my breasts. He began to nuzzle me, the cold tip of his nose digging into me neck, and I moved forward a little. The thought of physical contact with my husband was nauseating me, but I did not want to arouse further suspiscion. He bit me gently, as a lover might, but there was always a baleful force underneath his impossibly glistening teeth. His hands slid down to my waist, attempting to pull up the bottom of my shirt.


I felt something rise in my throat, and I closed my eyes, willing it back down. To vomit on one's husband is never a good sign.


Gods, you're beautiful, you know that?, he whispered to me, breathing and voice heavy with lust. From the minute I saw you at Hogwarts, I knew you were my match.


Really, Lucius? How old was I? 15? 16?, I asked, rather perturbed that my adolescent self was being ogled by a much older, and much more notorious Malfoy.


14 and 1/2, actually. I saw your eyes and I wanted to do this (he leaned over and slid one of his dexterous fingers up my leg, lifting my skirt as he went along) and this (he tilted my chin up gently, closing his mouth over mine, flicking his tongue in and out), he was whispering even more gently now, something I found more unsettling than if he were to merely purr it.


The click of wood against wood alerted me that another had entered, but Lucius was undeterred. He continued to draw circles lazily on the inside of my mouth with his tongue, hands traveling farther than I could bear. In that great instant, I wanted my husband, the man whom I had wed and agreed to be coerced into this ridiculous life, I wanted him to die the most wretched of deaths.


I opened my eyes, praying that tears of shame and revulsion would not trickle. The Professor stood there, an expression of extreme distaste and disgust. I caught his eye, but saw something else: a profound jealousy, almost a possessive spark. I broke the kiss, and Lucius pulled away hesitantly. I noticed that he slid the skirt back down, but made sure the Professor saw this contemptuous motion. I wanted t retch.


, the Professor asked the question with a lazy spite, arms crossed and himself looking equally so. Lucius gave another laugh, but it was fueled by something else.


Not at all, Severus. I've been imploring Lourdes to forgive me for acting so beastly, he answered, hands placed on my shoulders. I had a dreadful feeling that if I even tried to inch forward merely to stretch my legs, he would reel me back in with a bone snapping forcefulness.


I see, the Professor looked distinctly uncomfortable at my unwittingly beseeching look. He almost appeared like he wanted to help me.


Is there something you require?, Lucius asked him, fingers tightening slightly. My breaths were coming in shorter spurts, and my heart was stretching every sinew in an attempt to race with my fear.


My wand, actually. I had it this morning during breakfast, but it seems that it has gone missing. It's very important, the last note was almost spat out, injuring his pride somehow to admit this.


I'm sorry, old friend, but I've seen none such thing around here. Have you, Lourdes?, his hands turned me to face him, blue eyes gazing disinterestedly into my own.


Perhaps you dropped it when riding, Professor?, I offered, and winced. I had forgotten what had elapsed. The Professor's stoic face gave away nothing, except the slightest twitch of an eyebrow; he looked deeply annoyed.


Perhaps. It might be as much help to search the robes that I've gone through a thousand times. What very poor deductive skills., he snapped, forgetting himself.


Lucius left my side immediately, and nearly swooped down upon the Professor. The two men were almost stony reliefs, their carve faces handsome, wholly dangerous, lethally angry and ethereally beautiful in the firelight.


You shall never speak to my wife like that again, Severus, he said softly, sounding very serpentine when uttering the Professor's name. The Professor looked almost amused.


Then perhaps you should begin to treat her as thus, he lowered his own voice into a tone that seemed far more deadly than my husband's poor attempt. I almost smiled; I was not used to other's trying to challenge the icy fire that it my husband.


Lucius' jaw dropped, and he reached into his robes, eyes furious. He fumbled a bit, searching frantically, trying to maintain pride and respect in his rather embarrassingly awkward situation. He jerked his head up, cool hair loosing itself from it's usually untroubled river that flowed down his back.


Perhaps this would be of some assistance?, the Professor asked coolly, outstretching a colorless, yet indescribably erotic hand that grasped only the tip of the wand. Lucius snatched it, an eerily indignant child with ashenly angry features.


How dare you, he snarled, and pointed it at the Professor, whose arms remained cross and eyes untroubled. He ceased to raise even an eyebrow. I had taken it that he had witnessed some of Lucius' more vicious rages.


Then perhaps next time you would not be so careless as to drop it when unwelcomingly fondling your wife, he said calmly. He turned away from my husband, an otherwise deadly mistake. I believe he was testing him, to see whether or not Lucuis was so amoral, unloyal and utterly cowardly as to curse him when his back was turned. I also think that the Professor was entirely aware of my husband's wrenching need of his services.


I closed my eyes as he walked past. I knew perfectly well that Lucius had most likely stolen the wand this morning, when we were otherwise engaged. The door shut behind him, and Lucius was still standing there, breathing raggedly in his suddenly ridiculous dress robes.


The next time he challenges me, he will have never known a pain such as this. I swear to you; don't worry, my darling, I shall be sure to summon you so that you may see it too, my husband was rambling at this point, never a good sign. His anger was trapped and gnawing wildly at itself to get out. He was nearly as dangerous as a damaged wand, if not more.


I nodded, and rose silently. Lucius did not notice me, he only paced, up and down, up and down. I walked towards the door, feeling the hot patches of skin that he had so humiliatingly grasped, and wished to take either a dangerously cold or dangerously hot bath.


I closed the library door, the form of the door knob in a coiled serpent. It hissed at me quietly, and I swore at it. It immediately went dormant, withering itself into its former, polished state.


My back was turned too long, for I felt someone's long, angular arms slip
around my neck, and skeletal hands stifle my mouth. I moved to scream, but they had anticipated my entirely predictable action, and stifled my mouth with a thankfully clean and soft cloth. It tasted familiar,and I could have sworn, had I not been in such a panic, that I had smelt it or tasted it before.


They pulled me along the length of the corridor, and then ducked into one of the rooms which was so little and dull, that I had never bothered to explore. I doubted even Lucius knew of its existence. The door was magically locked, I could hear the incantation whispered in a familiar, velvet voice.

The Professor.

Alone.

And with a familiar, furious expression scrawled on his aristocratic features.


His hands dropped from my neck, only for a second, and he trusted me enough to ungag me. However, he cupped his hand over my lips in a rather intimate fashion, and his arm lingered at my waist too long. There was a palpable silence in the air that hung suggestively between us. The temptation was unlikely, still, but it had begun to clamor for attention of its existence.


Where is my wand, it was a demand, not a question, and he was speaking into my ear.


I don't know. I swear. Lucius probably took it during breakfast, I was struggling to breathe and speak in the same instant; the result was a not so attractive hacking and gurgling noise emitted from me.


You know perfectly well where it is. Don't force me to administer this, his voice was smooth again, and he tinkled something in my ear. I craned my neck, lips nearly colliding with his own, though they were ironed into an almost indiscernable line. It was a vial, very well warded at that, filled with a harmless looking liquid that was nearly clearer than water. Veritaserum.


I don't know where it is. And put that away. Lucius will kill you if he knows you have it on your person, I hissed, trying to pull his arm from my neck.


I am aware of what your husband's intentions with myself are.
However, if you do not help me find my wand, I cannot escape their consequences, he said, very slowly, trying to belittle me by speaking as if I were a child.


I'll help you look for it, but I have no idea where it is, I was practically wheezing now, and the world was painted in watery hues, his face spinning and the little bottle beginning to elongate itself in my vision.


He released me, and I fell back in surprise. I grasped my neck, and was afraid that his misleadingly thin fingers would leave marks. He smiled at me, but so coldly that it nearly froze the room.


I had already thought of that, he said simply, and poured a simple smelling, white potion into his hands and came at me again. I nearly shrieked, but I
ducked to the other side of the room.


He was very swift, and was immediately upon me. The lotion was warm, and tingly, and I could nearly feel the bruises evaporating.


You have to trust me, he suddenly sounded desperate, and leaned in towards me. I backed away, more alarmed by his sudden revelation of weakness than
his forceful gesture.


I would have helped you this morning, he remarked, glancing at his hands. I knew he was referring to the moment in the clearing.


I didn't ask for it, my voice was raw, as if ravaged by my silent screaming. He shrugged.


Do you take tea at night?, he asked suddenly, eyes needling me again. I felt like one of Lucius' specimens in his study, splayed out and pinned to black velvet.


Perhaps. In a more appropriate location, I answered non committally. He raised an eyebrow, inviting me to elaborate.


The stables, then. Perhaps I can help you look for your wand, I offered. He nodded. He took my hand and kissed it lightly. I grasped my throat again, another surge of unfounded heat worming its way up to my head.


I closed my eyes, only for a moment,but he was gone when I opened them, just as I had suspected.


It was odd, to have a compulsion for the ghost you thought you had already vanquished.





A/N: I need reviews! Please, people, I'm desperate here! Anyway, sorry about the rather explicit foreplay and disgusting implication of Lucius and his underaged fascination. Much love to reviewers.