NIGHT OF THE AWALIM
CHAPTER 2: REVENGE
Hermione felt suddenly shy. It was all very well to be a beledi goddess on the performance floor, strut around a restaurant confident, sexy and gorgeous, but afterwards she was still herself. And her brash manner hid a deep doubt that she really knew enough. There was always another book to read, another course to do. She was a caberet belly dancer, charming and conquering audiences everywhere, but she knew her zill work was sloppy, and that she couldn't balance a sword on her head yet while doing a series of pelvic drops.
It was all very well, for the first time ever, to tempt someone back to her bedroom, but when they got there, it was still only her in a costume, with books strewn on the floor, g-strings and knickers hanging out of her laundry hamper, and body glitter spilled across her dresser.
She and Severus Snape faced each other. They had Apparated straight from her performance at Hogsmeade. Her banter made her blush now. What the hell did she think she was doing, bringing home her old Potions Master? She wondered what her flat mate, Carmel, would say?
"Lugh on a crutch, Hermione, what were you thinking?"
"He looked lost, Carmel. He followed me home? Can I keep him?"
And while she was sure Snape was house trained, she wasn't as positive about flea control and rabies.
"If you have changed your mind, Miss Granger, I can go," Snape said quietly.
The silence was drawn out between them. The flat itself seemed oddly still. Then suddenly a drum piece from the Camelspotting cd blared out from the next room.
"My flat mate," Hermione said. "She plays Arabic music when she…er…"
There was a solid thunk as Carmel apparently jumped back into her bed and the bedhead hit the wall.
"Ooww, Carmel, mind your knee!" said a male voice.
"Ron, get your elbow out of my face!"
"Move over yourself, sunshine."
Snape's left eyebrow rose. "Ronald Weasley?" he said.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Judging from the voices, I would say Carmel Chong is going for some sort of record." She leaned over her bed and hammered on the wall. "Shut up!"
Silence. Then a door opening. Snape wisely disappeared into the shadows of Hermione's room. Hermione opened her bedroom door. Carmel stood there. She was sporting a very new and very tiny negligee.
"Sorry. We're just having some fun, that's all."
"I know." Hermione's voice was very tired.
"If you'd like to come in-"
"No thanks."
"Ron and Harry say hi."
"That's nice."
"Seamus wants to know if you'll perform at his birthday party."
"I'll think about it."
"Professor LaGrange says you forgot to pick up your extra reading list."
"Gods, Carmel, he's not in there, is he?"
"No, I saw him yesterday in class. But it's not a bad thought. He's very nice."
"He's half-giant!"
"I'm not rascist. Well, I think I'll get back to it. We'll try to keep the noise down."
"Uh huh."
"But you're only young once."
"I know."
Carmel gave her a full-wattage winning smile and skipped back to her room. Hermione shut her door and then heard Carmel slam hers, and another bounce on the bed, to accompaniment of complaints, laughs, and an offer to get out the jar of honey now.
Snape slid out of his lurking spot. "I can see why you wanted me to make noise. Revenge is always a good motive," he said. "Is that really Potter and Weasley in there?"
"And Seamus Finnigan too, if I know my voices."
Snape grinned. "You have my every sympathy, Miss Granger. I boarded in London during my university days. Professor Sinistra roomed in the flat above. My board agreement said hot and cold running water, three meals a day. I can only assume hers said hot and cold running men, three sexual encounters a day."
"What did you do about it?" Maybe he had a couple of good tips.
"Became one of them. If you can't beat them, join them."
"You and Professor Sinistra?"
Snape did a passable imitation of her tone. "You and Viktor Krum?"
Hermione blushed. "How do you know about that?"
"Your essay in fifth year: What I Did For My Holidays: An educational trip to Eastern Europe. The staff spent considerable time reading between the lines. You were the subject of discussion for at least a month."
Hermione fiddled with the long beading on her costume bra. Snape cleared his throat.
"So…..would you like to sit down?" Hermione said.
"Where?" Snape gestured to the room. There was not a clear surface anywhere. "Besides, I do not think we came here to sit." He eyed the bed. "I believe you wanted me to make noise?"
"I…er…well, that is….I mean…." She had asked him here on that premise.
And she did still want revenge for all of Carmel's diurnal activities that kept her awake or distracted from study. She took a deep breath.
"Yes. Noise. Lots of it. All night." There, she'd said it. Now she would either die of embarrassment or with a big smile on her face.
Snape fished into his pants. Hermione blanched when he pulled out his wand. The wooden one that did spells. Not the flesh one that presumably, and hopefully, made magic.
"Stand back, Miss Granger. I may not wave this foolishly, but I wouldn't want you in the way." Hermione backed up onto her bed and watched Snape swish and flick a number of times, muttering incantations too quickly for her to catch. Wooden planks, a saw, hammer, nails, and various other tools appeared. The tools set to work building a set of shelves for Hermione's wall. All the books slapped themselves together to be rid of dust and assembled in alphabetical piles ready for storage. The window opened and a Dust-Buster plant Apparated in from the Sudan. It began slurping up dust on the carpet and walls. All Hermione's clothes flung themselves out of her wardrobe, flicked themselves out the window, snapping like sheets, and then back in to hang neatly. A swarm of Starch Flies flew in and settled on the clothing, straightening everything without need of an iron. Then they circled the room twice with a loud buzz and left again. Hermione's costumes jangled their way out of the other side of the wardrobe, reorganised themselves and shimmied back in.
"Mary Poppins Snape," Hermione muttered.
"I heard that. Mary Poppins was a past graduate of Hogwarts." Snape folded his arms. "Besides, I knew you'd fuss if I called House Elves." He swished and flicked several more times.
A series of barnyard noises erupted around the room, culminating in a loud series of baa's.
Hermione cocked her head. Snape smiled.
"It's all noise," he said.
Another spell saw Hermione unceremoniously kicked off the bed. She landed with a bump. All her bedclothes flipped out the window, aired, came in, and made themselves into hospital corners. Her pillows fluffed, the door hinges were oiled by a scampering tin of oil, and finally the books jumped, crash, crash, crash, onto the shelves. The bed flipped itself open, invitingly. The Dust-Buster plant settled into a corner, burped, and slept. The tools disappeared in a loud, wet pop.
Carmel, Harry, Ron and Seamus paused in their shennanigans. The most godsawful racket was coming from Hermione's bedroom. Crashing, thumping, banging, buzzing, slurping, sucky noises. Then mooing, seagulls squawking, and what sounded like a flock of sheep being herded through Hermione's room.
"You've got to hand it to the girl," said Ron. "When she does something, she goes all out."
"I've a new respect for her," said Seamus.
"I'm just sorry we never got together," said Harry.
Carmel poked him with her feather duster. "Anything she can do, I can do better," she said, and turned their attention back to her.
Again Snape and Hermione faced each other, this time across the bed.
"You said you wanted me to make noise," Snape said.
"I didn't think….I mean…. Not in that way."
He grinned at her again and sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He kicked off his shoes and crossed one foot over the other. He tilted his head back to scrutinise her. She was still in costume, so there was a lot of flesh to look at. Whichever god had decided Hermione Granger should become a belly dancer, Snape was thankful to him.
"And exactly what sort of noise should I be making?"
Hermione took a deep breath, which was an impressive sight in that bejewelled bra. "No more sheep, that's for sure. Moaning, I suppose."
Snape moaned, long, loud, following it up with: "Help me! Help me! Stop! No, please, stop!"
Seamus stopped what he was doing and swallowed a mouthful of honey. "That sounded…odd."
"It sounded like Professor Snape!" Harry said.
They all looked at each other. "Nah!" they agreed.
Hermione leaned over and smacked Snape lightly on the shoulder. His arm reached up, held her in place. Her cleavage was inches from his face. She tried to breathe normally, pretend this sort of thing happened all the time.
"Not that sort of moaning," she said.
Snape tried "I feel ill" moaning, followed by "I'm very depressed" moaning.
Hermione belted him twice more. "You know what sort of sounds," she accused.
Snape's mouth closed on her skin and he nipped softly at the rise of one breast. She expelled her breath in a sigh, and her knees gave way. She came down with a thump on the bed. Snape's hair caught in the sequins of her bra.
"Ahh, dammit, Miss Granger, stay still, I'm caught," he said in his best, loud "I'm-going-to-kill-you-bloody-Potions-students-if-you-don't-shut-up" voice.
"That IS Professor Snape," said Harry.
"Too weird," said Ron. "I always said she was mental."
"Never mind about Hermione!" Carmel said. "I'm here. Pay attention!"
Snape untangled his hair and suggested Hermione remove her costume. More than suggested. For the first time in recorded history he was co-operative, helping her out of it until all she wore was body glitter, a flesh-coloured g-string, and plenty of bangles. Snape took the veil she'd used for her performance that evening, the one she'd ensnared him in, and draped it over her body. It was chiffon, and therefore sheer. Snape sucked her nipples through the material that did nothing to hide her arousal.
Hermione had enough presence of mind to ask for more noise, just before Snape's fingers slid inside her.
"You first," Snape muttered, and scrunched his fingers slightly.
Ron sat up. "Do you think Hermione's alright?" he asked, as the cries in the next room died away, to be replaced by a high-pitched groan.
"She's fine," Carmel said forcefully.
"I wish I'd asked her to the Year 7 ball now," Seamus said.
Hermione used her veil to blindfold Snape as she undressed him.
"Why do you have so many clothes on?" she asked, annoyed because each layer contained many small buttons. "Oh, fuck this!" She reached for her wand. "Accio buttons, Accio clothes!"
All of Snape's buttons flew off and were swallowed one by one by the Dust-Buster plant. Snape's clothes leapt from his body and folded themselves neatly into a pile on the floor.
"May I remove my blindfold now?" Snape asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"No."
"I want to look at you."
"Just a while longer."
Snape made to remove the veil from about his eyes. Hermione slapped at his hands in annoyance. Her voice rose.
"Just keep it on, dammit! Or nothing else happens."
"Well, I'm glad she's a safe sex girl," Carmel said.
Snape let Hermione do her will with him for only so long before he sought her with his hands, pulled her up towards him. She removed her veil from his eyes and watched as he feasted on the sight of her above him. He shifted on the bed slightly ,and the headboard banged against the wall.
"Damn, that's broken my rhythm," Harry complained.
Carmel reached up and hammered on the wall. "Shut up!" she yelled.
Carmel's shout set Hermione's intent. She poised herself over Snape, legs astride him. Slowly, teasing, she circled her entrance around the tip of his shaft. Wide, lazy circles that made him moan. Yes! The right sort of moaning noises this time!
Centimetre at a time, she lowered herself onto him.
Snape held her hips lightly. "Show me how you dance," he said.
Hermione smiled. 'There's no music," she joked.
Snape had left his wand beside the bed. One quick spell and the sound of the oud filled the air.
"Now show me," he said.
Hermione used every skill she had.
Carmel ground her teeth. Ron was snoring, and Harry doing that annoying suck-breath-in-puff-it-out thing. Seamus was silent but his leg was heavy across her body. From the room next door, music of varying sorts had spilled all night. First some passable Arabic music, then some lazy jazz. But it was now five in the morning and the steady bass beat of Creedance Clearwater Revival vibrated. Accompanying that was the rhythmic thud of Hermione's headboard against the wall. Oh sure, it would quieten off for a while, but then it would start up again. At 4am, Carmel was sure she'd heard Hermione's chair splinter.
Carmel watched the clock tick over to 5.30am. There was a knock on her bedroom door. She roughly tossed aside her blanket of blokes and ripped open the door.
"What?"
Hermione stood there, clad in nothing but an oversized man's black shirt. "Do you think Harry will mind if I borrow Hedwig?"
The owl hooted from her perch in the living room.
"You know he doesn't mind. What do you want with her?"
Hermione smiled impishly. "I need to send her to the all-night pharmacy. For condoms." She smiled. "I know I could spell them in, but I thought you'd like to know."
She shut the door in Carmel's face.
Five minutes after Hedwig hooted her return, the thumping began again.
7am and the boys woke up. None of them seemed eager to leave. They lounged around the flat, making it look untidy, eating all the Cornflakes, and stealing glances at Hermione's bedroom door. All Carmel wanted was a quiet Sunday morning to herself, the Daily Prophet Weekend Edition, and maybe some Muggle television.
The boys didn't leave. Ron and Seamus watched the tv, Ron laughing at the soccer. Harry read the paper. Carmel stomped around, wondering what on earth she'd done to deserve this.
All action ceased mid-afternoon, when Hermione emerged from her bedroom. She smiled at the men draped about the flat.
"Afternoon, 'Mione," Ron said, waggling his eyebrows. "Sleep late, did we?"
Snape emerged from Hermione's room, wearing only his trousers. "We didn't sleep at all," he said, and followed his lover to the bathroom. They shut the door and ran water for the bath.
Ron looked at Harry looked at Seamus. They all looked at Carmel. She'd NEVER asked them to have a bath with her.
"Wish I'd asked her to the Year 7 ball," they all said as one.
The sound of splashing filled the flat.
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Many thanks to Warrego for comments and suggestions.