Hello, readers!
DiaLin: I hope this chapter fulfills your expectations.
Labrisa: More, as per request, and squirmage is in the offing. Chapters and chapters of squirmage for Sirius and Severus!
Sex God of the Year: Uhhhm. Whatever. ::: mutters incredulously, "Snapie?' :::
A Snape (& Sirius) Fan: Things are about to get interesting all over. There will be much to occupy Our Heroes, indeed. ::: evil, wicked, sinful grin :::
Aftertaste of a Razorblade: Thank you! ^_^ More to come!
Also, if anyone here is also reading 'Double, Double, Toil and Trouble,' I'd appreciate a boot to the head. I have a writers' block on that one.
~
Now, back to the story:
When we last left Our Heroes, both shit and fan were in position and ready to deploy…
~
Like Cats and Dogs
Chapter five
~
Emily was making breakfast when green flames roared to life in the cold fireplace.
"Missy, love, could you get that?"
"Surely!" Missy came into the kitchen, kissing Emmy in passing, and crossed to the fireplace. Reaching into an elaborate cloisonné jar on the mantle, she pinched out some powder and tossed it into the flames.
"Ah, Miss Malfoy. Good morning." The voice was deep and rumbly. "How are you?"
"Quite well, sir, and you?"
"Oh, can't complain at all, after one's centennial nothing runs quite as it used to. Might Miss Mayborne be available?"
"Indeed, Master MacGuffin. Here she comes."
Emily left the whisk beating the eggs and went to the fireplace. "Good afternoon, Master MacGuffin."
The head of a portly, balding man with a short iron-grey beard floated bodiless in the middle of the flames. "Good morning, Miss Mayborne. I'm sorry to disturb your time at home, but I need you to run a small errand for me, if you would."
Emily congratulated herself on not jumping as Missy pinched her bum and went off to tend breakfast. "Of course, sir. Where and when? I'll need a little time to pack…"
"Oh, no, nothing so much as that. You can manage this and the return trip in a day, I'd say. The Erumpent and Diricawl materials have been released from customs, but we can't find anyone certified to handle them. And I have some items to be delivered under a personal seal to Albus Dumbledore," Master MacGuffin adjusted his glasses, "I realize that it's not in your usual scope of duties, Miss Mayborne. However I can't take the chance that thumb-fingered twits I do have available would fiddle when they should faddle and blow themselves to Kingdom Come along with half the countryside."
The quiet coming from the kitchen was thunderous, but what choice did she have? This was the senior partner himself!
"I can probably manage it in less than a day if I broom up directly."
"I can portkey you right to the main gate – the Erumpent and Diricawl have been specially packaged to withstand the trip. You can either Apparate back or ask Dumbledore to open a Floo for you at the school." The gentleman put on a pair of spectacles and peered at something that Emily could not see. "Your former Potions Master also wants to know when I will permit you time to pursue your Masters credential. I was unaware you had such plans, but attaining such a degree would be marvelous – both for you and Miss Malfoy. A Lore Master and a Potions Master would be quite the feather in everybody's cap, wouldn't it?"
That interfering bastard! "Yes, it would be, but I prefer to stay in the field, sir."
"Ah, yes. I did, too, at your age. I simply ask that you and Miss Malfoy consider it for a later time."
Meaning that at some point, he would make it an order if action was not taken quickly enough to suit him. It wasn't fair! She and Missy were adults! "Yes, sir."
"Very good, I'll expect you in my office in about two hours. Good day."
"Good day, sir."
The silence was now the thickness of a London fog and Missy was beating the blameless eggs into froth. Jealousy was usually called the green-eyed monster, but Emily knew that Jealousy's eyes were actually a silvery grey.
Emily walked into the kitchen and leant on the counter, "You could go with me."
"No." Sniff.
"Do you want to cast a chastity charm on me then, as you seem to trust me so little?"
"I trust you." A fat tear fell into the eggs.
"But not
Snape." Emily sighed. What a mess. "Have I ever brought a man to bed that
you did not approve of well in advance?
"No." Lower lip quivering.
"Have I ever brought a man to bed of whom had expressed even the slightest disapproval?"
"No." Another tear in the eggs.
"Have I ever neglected you, hurt you, or disregarded anything you had to say?"
"No." Sniff.
"Do you know I love you?"
"Yes."
"Do you know that I have always loved you?"
"Yes." A glimpse of a very pink nose and pink-rimmed eyes.
"Do you think anything is going to change any of that just because I set foot on the grounds?"
Missy left off her punishment of the eggs and wrapped herself around Emily. "I'm being silly."
"You certainly are."
"And I'm a bitch, a terrible green-eyed jealous bitch."
"Indeed."
"Feel free to stop me at any time, Emmy."
Emily stopped her the best way she knew how and was gratified by Missy's hearty cooperation. She'd make it a fast trip.
~
Severus realized that in order to find Sirius Black, that there was no need to go hunting, as Sirius seemed incapable of staying away from him. Indeed, the man seemed gravitationally attracted – something that had annoyed Lucius Malfoy no end.
A smile quirked Severus' lips – not that he had ever minded such one bit. A jealous, possessive Malfoy was a creative, horny Malfoy and the benefits of such were the basis for many fond – and highly erotic - memories.
All Severus had to do was to seduce Black into arms reach and the fun could begin.
And all he had to do in order to accomplish that was to go out.
He augmented his normal attire with Slytherin green and silver – just in case waving a red flag in front of the bull was not enough.
A spot in one of the courtyards boasted a spreading oak and a fountain – not to mention an unusual acoustic quality that let you know when someone was in the gallery - so Severus took himself there. He settled himself under the shade of the oak and opened his book. One that he had read before, but not the most absorbing read on his shelves, he was comfortable in the fact that he would be able to divide his attention and not be drawn into the book. The collar was sandwiched between the linen of his shirt and the wool of his coat sleeve, a flick of his wrist and it would fall into his hand.
The courtyard remained cool well into the afternoon, and if he had to wait any time at all, Severus preferred to do so in comfort. So he leant against the tree, skimming the pages of his book – the author had written to opinion rather than fact on the practical applications of so-called 'dark magics' – and listening for the subtle alterations of echoes from the fountain that would indicate another person moving about.
The morning passed, an owl from Gadget, Widget and MacGuffin informed Severus that his Diricawl feathers and Erumpent horn and fluid were now free of Customs. They would be delivered as soon as a properly certified courier could be found, but he would have them before the start of the term if Master MacGuffin had to deliver them himself.
There was also another – very tempting - offer. There were apparently a great many potions and writings being uncovered at the Honduras site that Miss Mayborne had mentioned. The firm offered a sizable retainer and publishing rights if he might consent to spending his summer holidays…?
Spending his summer holidays near a young woman who had the annoying tendency to show up in his fantasies and her Malfoy lover with an acute interest in recreational vengeance.
Oh, yes. Suicide in exotic places was just the way he planned to spend his summer!
A jealous and possessive Malfoy was not only a creative and horny Malfoy, but also a violent and homicidal Malfoy. Artemisia reminded Severus very much of her father, she had the good fortune to be more influenced by the LeStranges, but when crossed she was entirely Lucius' child.
Which was to say – cunning, canny, amoral, vicious, bloody-minded, savage and utterly implacable.
Given a choice of having a third Malfoy in his life and – say - testing guillotines, he'd have to sit and think about it.
No, better for all concerned that he avoid Emily Mayborne, even in his head.
The quality of the sound from the fountain changed.
Someone was in the gallery.
Severus turned a page of his book; listening so hard it felt as if his skin was tingling with the effort. He was easily seen to anyone who might be in the shadows; indeed, he had no intention of hiding.
With the aplomb that he had earned as a deep cover spy, Severus stretched and yawned, letting his eyelids droop a little.
Come and get me, Black.
~
Oh, yes.
There he was.
In the cool shadows of the gallery, Sirius Black watched Severus Snape intently. The bane of his existence was stretched out in the shade of a tree, book propped on one knee. Even in such a casual moment, Whisp was still buttoned to the neck, his shoes shined and trousers as impeccable as if he'd only just had them back from the house elves.
Sirius remembered the mayhem that was once Snape. Outside of his studies, there had been a distinct reputation as a budding libertine, an intellectual omnivore, a rakehell, and someone who knew no fear.
Who was this seemingly straitlaced stranger? What had happened to him, to change him so much? The thought unsettled Sirius before he steeled himself back to his purpose.
Time to play.
Slowly, with great care, he stalked Snape - watching as his quarry yawned, his eyes drooping with drowsiness in the warmth of late morning. Reaching into his pocket, Sirius closed his hand on the charmed collar, muffling the bell in his palm. He'd have to touch it to the neck; he remembered how quick Snape's hands could be.
As if reading Sirius' thoughts, Snape brushed a lock of black hair behind his ear, intent on his book.
Perfect.
Slipping into the courtyard, Sirius drew the collar from his pocket and made his circuitous way to the man under the tree. The world narrowed to that pale skin above the severe line of the collar, to the slow steady pulse visible as Snape tilted his head.
Five steps.
Snape turned a page.
Four.
Three.
A metallic clinking sound.
Two.
Sirius leapt the last step, only to have Snape flash to his feet, a flash of red and gold in his right hand as he ducked under Sirius' reach.
Green leather and red leather touched skin.
For a moment, Sirius thought that Whisp had landed one on him – he was literally knocked kicking. His ears rang and his vision shivered; he lay still for a long moment and when he could see straight, he tried to get to his feet – only to find that he had four instead of two.
What the…?
A pitiful wail reached his ears and he looked at Snape – or rather at Animagus Snape.
A large solid black tomcat with green eyes was standing splay-legged and glassy-eyed where Snape had been only moments before. As he watched cat-Snape tried to take a step, and fell with legs a-tangle to the ground – emitting another wail of fright and confusion.
Sirius was hit with a searing blast of shame. He'd forgotten the disorientation that followed the first successful animagus transformation – the way that your body didn't work right and how the senses were all changed about.
Well, you wanted to see him miserable.
Sirius tried to change back into human form, intending to go to Snape, remove the collar and take the no-hold-barred beating that Snape would likely dish out, but…
Something was stopping him; he couldn't even manage to shift so much as his pinky. Sirius shook himself in canine perplexity and felt something.
Something around his neck.
Sirius' rump hit the ground in astonishment. Whisp, that bloody bastard…
That bloody bastard was now getting his feet under him and looked at Sirius with an unmistakable sneer. Opening his mouth, Snape said cuttingly, "Meow."
Slytherin-green eyes bugged to the size of gobstones and all four of Snape's legs folded under him.
"M-meow?" he ventured, plainly in denial.
Sirius would have rolled on the floor laughing if he were capable.
Cat-Snape looked down at his cat-body and literally screamed in shock, the howl echoing madly off the stone walls. Sirius could no longer resist, he rolled onto his back, legs kicking madly in the air, tail a feathery black blur as he laughed hysterically in the confines of his head.
Laughter that cut off at another noise from the Cat.
A not-funny noise.
Green eyes were squeezed to angry slits, ears folded back to the head, and the hackles down the spine raised in sheer fury.
Sirius got to his feet.
Snape's tail curved in a puffed-out reverse-S and a low, ominous growl made Sirius back up a step.
Oh, shite…
With a scream of unadulterated rage, Snape threw himself at Sirius, claws out and murder in his eyes.
Faced with an intercontinental ballistic Snape, Sirius did the first thing that came to mind - he turned tail and ran like half of hell was chasing him.
~
She had never heard a din like it in her entire life.
It sounded like a one of Hagrid's animals had gotten loose and was in a taking. Minerva stalked down the hallway thinking that she finally knew what 'screaming blue murder' really sounded like. Even Severus in one of his rarer moods had never equaled this and he had the worst temper of anyone she'd met in her seventy-five years!
She rounded the corner into the gallery and they hit her like a freight train.
One huge black tomcat chasing after a very familiar black dog was all the witch had a chance to see before she found herself flat on her back considering the stonework in the ceiling.
As Minerva got to her feet, ready to go after the speeding mischief, her eyes happened on something in the courtyard – a book thrown carelessly to the ground. Something made her go in, pick it up and open it.
Ex Libris
Severus N. Snape
"Fucking bloody hell!"
Changing to her cat-self, Minerva tore out after Severus and Sirius.
~
Sirius skidded into a turn and scrambled up a staircase, lurching to one side as it disengaged from the landing and moved, leaving Snape stranded. Sides heaving, Sirius panted for breath. Snape on four feet was even more vicious and tenacious than Snape on two! Daring a glance over the balustrade he could make out Severus trying to make out another way up – his pink mouth open and hissing in frustration.
The staircase reconnected and Sirius ran, claws clicking wildly on the stone floors. He had to…
Sirius stopped so fast that he nearly went tail over snout.
He had to WHAT?
Severus skidded into the hallway, spotted Sirius and came toward him with a stiff-legged stalk, the silver bell on the collar chiming with each step.
What was going on here? Why was HE the one running?
The sense of species-specific outrage was overwhelming. Sirius had been running from a CAT!
The muscles in Sirius' shoulders bunched and his muzzle lifted to bare teeth, a growl as rough as gravel tumbling out of his throat.
Whatever the transfiguration had done to Snape, it hadn't hurt his fine instinct for self-preservation – he stopped his stalk and eyed Sirius warily.
Sirius took one step forward, saliva dripping from his snarling muzzle.
Snape, green eyes unblinking and full-fluffed tail rising skyward in alarm, took one step back.
I'm the bloody Dog!
Snape turned so fast that he might have swapped head for arse and nearly tore the air in his haste to flee.
~
"WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF!"
"MERRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOW!"
They were coming this way.
Minerva resumed human shape, panting, leaning on the wall with one hand. When she got her hands on those boys – and for all their years, they were still boys! – she would make them howl for mercy! How Severus had come to be in Animagus form was beyond her – his talent was latent not active, nor had he ever shown much interest in learning to use it.
Moving to the center of the hallway, Minerva assumed her best imposing stance. The barking and yowling was now accompanied by the sound of claws on stone and an incongruous cheery jingling.
Severus blasted into the hallway with all the speed that a terrified cat could muster. His paws scarcely touched the floor and his eyes were so wide that there was actually a ring of white around the green.
"Severus Sna..!"
The cat flew right between her legs, under her robes, out, and down the hall - leaving her gaping at his retreating backside. The ceiling made a sudden reappearance as all nine stone of canine Sirius Black collided at speed with a hundredweight of stationary Witch.
Oh, she was going to make them pay in ways they had never dreamed were possible.
~
Argus Filch liked summer.
The castle was quiet, serene. The ghosts and house elves were good company. Mrs. Norris had a chance to rest from keeping those beastly children in line.
Well, this summer was a little different.
For one, Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall had stayed on, and Remus Lupin had returned with a big dog for company. There were comings and goings of all sorts from morning to night, and after the events of the Tri Wizard Cup, he supposed it was all for the best.
Bad things were afoot, even Mrs. Norris agreed on that much.
So it was even more of an affront when the already compromised serenity of his castle was further broken by four-footed mayhem.
Damned dog! You could hear the beast all the way to the Great Hall - chasing after some terrified cat by the sound of it. So he chased the sounds as best he could, determined to help the poor thing if he could. Cats adored Argus, always had.
He and Mrs. Norris arrived in the hallway just in time to see Minerva McGonagall get knocked arse over teakettle by the dog.
"Filch! Get that cat!" The redoubtable witch had hold of the big beast's collar and was climbing to her feet.
The big tom was a streak of black, thinking only of getawaygetawaygetaway. Argus planted one foot firmly and lunged, nearly bowled off his feet by nearly fifteen pounds of cat. Holding him firmly by the scruff with one hand and supporting the hindquarters with the other, Argus admired the fine animal. Long, lean lines and an elegantly shaped head bespoke an exotic bloodline, and the short silky fur was almost slippery. The green eyes were an unusual shade and matched the fancy green collar almost exactly.
Argus stifled a pang of disappointment – this must be someone's familiar, not a stray to…
Familiar. Not someone's familiar. Someone familiar.
Argus might be a squib but he knew magic when he felt it - even if he couldn't actually use it - and this cat was nose-to-tail magic.
Mrs. Norris greeted the stranger with a chirruping meow; the meow that she only used for one person in particular; the person who made her catnip mice, her special tonic with fish oil, and the array of potions that Argus used to doctor the castle's army of strays.
"Severus?"
he whispered in astonishment, "Lad, is that you in there?"
~
TBC
