Fledge keep mentioning to me that "vous" is the polite way of saying "you"
in French. Just so everyone knows, my total extent of the French language
is the word for apple and the "vous" thing isn't done on purpose.
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Seven By Jewel Little Bird
It was close to two-thirty in the morning. Snape felt ill. Voldemort had prepared for them the "entertaining" execution of Karkaroff, who had finally been caught. There was nothing worse than pretending to be enjoying oneself when one wanted to vomit until there was nothing left in the stomach.
He walked through Hogwarts, heading for his room, planning on drinking a full cauldron of Dreamless Sleep just so he wouldn't spend the night trying to sleep and only succeeding in seeing Karkaroff tortured over and over again before Voldemort had finally killed him.
Snape had just finished telling Dumbledore everything that had gone on at the Death Eater meeting, and truly wanted nothing else but to forget about what he had seen, if only for a few hours. Any form of distraction will be welcome, he thought. Even Fleur naked and asleep on my bed.
He walked into his room and froze. Be careful what you wish for, that annoying voice in the back of his head whispered smugly. You might get it.
Well, in a sense he had. Fleur WAS asleep on his bed, but it was a blooming miracle that she wasn't naked. She'd taken off her robes, revealing a very attractive blue teddy, and it appeared she had been considering removing that when she fell asleep (the straps had been slipped off).
Her eyes snapped open. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Something of his night's activities must have been in his eyes, because she suddenly looked worried. She got up from the bed (her breasts barely held the teddy on), walked over to him and pulled him into her arms. He held her tightly, suddenly feeling that he needed to know he was alive. He ran his hands over her bare shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Séjour avec moi, juste pour ce soir," he whispered, knowing his accent wasn't that great but wanting to speak in her language. She allowed him to slip the teddy off. "Je veux oublier tout que j'ai vu...."
@
The downy feel of her soft feathers against his skin as her wings wrapped around him, the ecstasy of losing himself in her body, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure as she ripped his back with her claws and cut his neck and shoulders with her beak in the throws of passion, and the divine feeling of being able to sleep without nightmares for the first time in over a decade would be branded into his memory forever.
At the moment, though, it wasn't doing Snape much good as Filch bandaged his back for him. He winced.
"So, had another encounter with the whore, have we?" the caretaker asked with a chuckle. "And may I ask what you did this time?"
"Asked her to stay the night then proceeded to deflower her." Snape glared over his shoulder at Filch. "And I KNOW what you're thinking, and you can stop that train of thought right now. Apparently, veela are not only capable of great anger but great sexual passion as well. It was a surprise for her, too."
"Every Jack has his Jill," Filch said wisely, slathering disinfectant on a rather nasty (and painful) gash. "Seems the sadistic bastard has finally found his." He grinned. "Didn't I tell you so?"
"Hello, Jill," Snape threw at Mrs. Norris, who had just entered the room. She gave him a look that clearly said she had no idea what the hell he was talking about.
Filch hit Snape across the back of his head with a ruler.
@
End of Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Mirror of Erised Chapter Twenty-Seven By Jewel Little Bird
It was close to two-thirty in the morning. Snape felt ill. Voldemort had prepared for them the "entertaining" execution of Karkaroff, who had finally been caught. There was nothing worse than pretending to be enjoying oneself when one wanted to vomit until there was nothing left in the stomach.
He walked through Hogwarts, heading for his room, planning on drinking a full cauldron of Dreamless Sleep just so he wouldn't spend the night trying to sleep and only succeeding in seeing Karkaroff tortured over and over again before Voldemort had finally killed him.
Snape had just finished telling Dumbledore everything that had gone on at the Death Eater meeting, and truly wanted nothing else but to forget about what he had seen, if only for a few hours. Any form of distraction will be welcome, he thought. Even Fleur naked and asleep on my bed.
He walked into his room and froze. Be careful what you wish for, that annoying voice in the back of his head whispered smugly. You might get it.
Well, in a sense he had. Fleur WAS asleep on his bed, but it was a blooming miracle that she wasn't naked. She'd taken off her robes, revealing a very attractive blue teddy, and it appeared she had been considering removing that when she fell asleep (the straps had been slipped off).
Her eyes snapped open. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Something of his night's activities must have been in his eyes, because she suddenly looked worried. She got up from the bed (her breasts barely held the teddy on), walked over to him and pulled him into her arms. He held her tightly, suddenly feeling that he needed to know he was alive. He ran his hands over her bare shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Séjour avec moi, juste pour ce soir," he whispered, knowing his accent wasn't that great but wanting to speak in her language. She allowed him to slip the teddy off. "Je veux oublier tout que j'ai vu...."
@
The downy feel of her soft feathers against his skin as her wings wrapped around him, the ecstasy of losing himself in her body, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure as she ripped his back with her claws and cut his neck and shoulders with her beak in the throws of passion, and the divine feeling of being able to sleep without nightmares for the first time in over a decade would be branded into his memory forever.
At the moment, though, it wasn't doing Snape much good as Filch bandaged his back for him. He winced.
"So, had another encounter with the whore, have we?" the caretaker asked with a chuckle. "And may I ask what you did this time?"
"Asked her to stay the night then proceeded to deflower her." Snape glared over his shoulder at Filch. "And I KNOW what you're thinking, and you can stop that train of thought right now. Apparently, veela are not only capable of great anger but great sexual passion as well. It was a surprise for her, too."
"Every Jack has his Jill," Filch said wisely, slathering disinfectant on a rather nasty (and painful) gash. "Seems the sadistic bastard has finally found his." He grinned. "Didn't I tell you so?"
"Hello, Jill," Snape threw at Mrs. Norris, who had just entered the room. She gave him a look that clearly said she had no idea what the hell he was talking about.
Filch hit Snape across the back of his head with a ruler.
@
End of Chapter Twenty-Seven