With April 20th approaching again, I can't help but notice that I have been writing this story on and off for over a year. Truthfully, I'm amazed that I've made it this far without forgetting about the whole damn thing. I'm gonna try really hard to finish it for you guys.
Disclaimer: I think by now you all know what's mine and what's hers.
Warning: masturbation and drug use. It's not gonna kill ya, but just so you're warned. . .
Chapter 16
Never had the Slytherin Dormitory been so kind to Viola. It seemed that not a single student was awake in the entire dungeon, and she was able to creep into bed without anyone noticing that she had been missing.
Normally she would have showered first thing in the morning, but she was slightly euphoric, and suspected that a shower would eliminate the sensation. A rather foolish notion, but she didn't want to risk it.
She located her wand and put a ward for quiet around her bed. She couldn't contain the noise too much longer, she had to laugh or scream or do something very LOUD. "Danica you fucking skank!" she cried, testing the strength of the charm once she was hidden inside the curtains of her bed.
When no threatening backlash assaulted her ears, she let out a wild peal of laughter. It was impossible to contain. She had to do something to alleviate the sexual tension left in her body. Slowly, with the apprehension of one who is very new to the concept of physical pleasure, she slid her hand inside her robes. She knew that people did this all the time, god knows the girls she shared a room with were not as adept at their silencing charms. She just didn't know how they went about it. But, being a hedonist at heart, as all people her age tend to be, she decided to simply go with what felt best.
Her legs opened slightly of their own accord as her hand sought the point of heat between them. She touched herself through her panties, hesitantly at first, but soon with added enthusiasm. The thin white cotton was soon soaked through, and she removed them to gain better access to herself.
The thought of Snape was never far from her mind; she only wished it could have been his hand, instead of her own, stroking and exploring her.
There was something so different though, so intimately lonely, about what she was doing. This was better, so much better, than any sort of abuse she had even committed against her own body. But there, THERE was the release, the abandonment of stress and over-emotion that she achieved with cutting, only with this there was no pain.
She reached deeper into herself, discovering parts of her body she had never guessed at before. Who knew the human body was capable of such pleasurable sensations?
She wondered if Snape, or perhaps Severus now, was doing the same thing, and the thought threatened to drive her mad. He was definitely as aroused as she had been when he sent her away, she felt it when he kissed her. Her stomach tightened into a knot; she had felt it pressed into her abdomen before she left. Perhaps he was at that very moment touching himself, bringing himself to orgasm, simultaneous with her own, with her thought in his head. She realized she wanted to see him like that. She wanted to see his face break out of it's usual indifferent mask when he came. She imagined his beautiful hands roving over his body.
Her own hand quickened dramatically, dipping into the slick, swollen flesh with two small fingers. He had been thinking of her, dreaming of her. She had made him lose control for wanting her. Never had she felt so empowered, so feminine and so beautiful. She felt her self-esteem swell at the thought: Severus Snape wanted her. The fact that she used veritaserum on him mattered very little, the reality still remained that he found her attractive.
Later, when she finally got around to having a shower, a very sudden epiphany hit her. It was so very important, so unable to avoid, that she talk to Gwendolen. She hadn't spoken to her since Christmas, but knew that Gwenny could never be angry with her. It was her own isolation, and correlation to Brandon, that had kept her from her friends for so long.
It was still too early for either Randy or Brianna to be awake, and she was thankful for this. She didn't think that she could bear a confrontation with her old best friend in her state of mind. Better to just find Gwenny. So with wet hair and an eye open for Brandon, she made her way outside the school, and down a snowy path to the greenhouses.
The day was chilly, but not unbearably cold considering the season, and Gwendolen was right where Viola knew she would be: inside Greenhouse Four, with her book of drawings and checking on her babies.
Gwendolen's 'babies' were in fact nothing more than three trays of dung and dirt, sprouting multitudes of mushrooms. Hearing Viola enter the greenhouse, she quickly shrunk the trays until they were quite tiny, and hid them effectively in a damp drawer.
"Oh, Viola, it's you!" she breathed a sigh of relief. "I needn't have worried about hiding them."
"Yes you did, I'm wearing my badge." Viola pointed to the Head Girl badge pinned to her chest.
Gwendolen laughed. "Why yes you are. What brings you out into the world of the living?" She said it with kindness and sympathy, but the words stung nonetheless.
"I needed to talk to someone."
"Why not your boyfriend?" Viola had never seen Gwenny sneer before, but supposed that she deserved it. After all, her friends must have been quite hurt when she stopped talking to them. "I'm sorry, Vi, I shouldn't speak so cruelly to you." Her eyes lit up. "Have lunch with me, and we'll talk, okay?"
"Lunch? In here?"
"Of course," Gwendolen laughed and pulled a bag out of her pocket. It was full of dried mushrooms, probably her last harvest, and no doubt her very best.
"You know Gwen," Viola tried to sort out her thoughts. "It's strange. You're such a quiet person, you never break any rules and you work like a dog to get your grades. You hardly ever talk and when you do, it's the most intelligent thing that could be applied to any situation. And then, on the other hand, here you are growing magic mushrooms in the school greenhouse and . . ." here she paused and removed her badge, placing it safely out of sight in her pocket. "And forcing me to eat them with you."
Her friend laughed. "It's just a little peer pressure, give in to it!" And as if to live up to the reputation that was just bestowed on her, continued. "People are weird sometimes, aren't they? I know I seem like a real goodie two shoes or something like that, but the truth is that no one is really good or bad, smart or dumb. It's all about peoples' priorities, and how they are arranged.
"Being heard or noticed isn't a big priority for me, so I stay quiet. My inner wisdom (she said this sarcastically, shy little Gwenny doesn't fancy herself very smart) is just a result of thinking far too much. School, friends and family are very important, So those are the things I really concentrate on."
"And the mushrooms? What of those my brilliant friend?" Viola sat down on a bench next to Gwen.
"Well, I suppose getting high is a precedence in my life as well. After all, everyone needs a way to distract themselves from things: you cut yourself," this was the first time anyone had ever been so blunt as to just come out and say it. It was so straightforward that Viola blushed. "Randy smokes weed, and I grow my little babies and trip out every now and then." she pondered, looking at the bag in her hand. "I'm trying to figure out which of our habits is the worst."
"I miss you guys so much, you know that right?" She felt surprisingly close to tears.
"I know. Lets eat."
At ten o'clock on that interesting Sunday morning, Viola and Gwendolen ate the mushrooms.
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Severus had opted to spend the day locked up in his chambers, until he was sure he was purged of the veritaserum. It took the better part of the day to satisfy himself that he could indeed lie properly, or at least well enough to save face.
Strange impulses and motivations caused him to pace wildly around his rooms, impossibly bored and without any sort of destination in mind.
With a spurt of decisiveness, he sat down at his table in front of a large stack of seventh year essays. Marking was his least favourite pastime, and he knew that by the time he finished slashing paragraphs with scathing red ink he would be in a towering foul mood. On the other hand, it was Sunday and it needed to be done. As proof that the potion was losing his effect, he was able to force himself to do something other than what he wanted.
His prediction, it would seem, was correct. He was definitely in a horrid mood by the time he snatched the last essay toward himself, with the intention of destroying the grade average of whomever had written it.
He paused though. The essay was written by Viola Rienne, on the topic of potions used as aphrodisiacs in both the magic and muggle worlds. He wondered what had possessed her to choose such an odd topic. Her handwriting was smudged in some places, due to the inconvenience of being left handed. Being alone, he allowed himself to smile slightly, imagining her cute indignance as he marked her down for carelessness. The essay was very well written, obviously researched extensively, but he could just imagine how much she had laughed while writing it. He wondered briefly if her boyfriend, Brandon, had helped her, since it seemed to correspond more with his immature sense of humour.
Suddenly he knew something. He cursed his stupidity for not knowing right away what seemed so blindingly clear now.
He dipped his quill into the red ink and gave her a three out of ten on the essay. In the margin, he added a small note in his own precise handwriting: We need to discuss your progress in this class. See me tonight at 6pm. Do not be late.
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Exactly one hour after eating the mushrooms, Gwendolen was trying to keep Viola in the greenhouse.
"You can't go now!" her huge pupils seemed beseeching. "Randy and Bri will be here soon, wouldn't it be great for all of us to hang out again?"
Viola wasn't listening. She was too busy watching some usually stationary vines swirl about in the tunnel of her vision. It turns out that Gwendolen O'Bradley had once again lived up to her mushroom standard of excellence.
Viola felt a strong urge to flee. True, it would be nice to hang out with her old friends again, but something told her that the time was not ripe. There were other things to be sorted out before everything could be back to normal, and with that thought, she hugged Gwenny and left.
Outside, the colour had drained from the sky, leaving it blinding white. The lake was a slab of onyx, shiny as glass, and the ground seemed to sway to the beat of some song in her head. It was a strange, very interesting, hallucinogenic journey to the kitchens for munchies. Full of rippling air, bulgy-eyed house elves, and several random people peeking out at her from behind tapestries. How many of these things were actually present, Viola did not know.
Nor did she care. Now was a time to eat things, and the kitchen was, as always, open and friendly to any hungry student.
Colours came and went with relentless randomness, and she had trouble navigating her way through the shelves and ovens that made up the majority of the kitchens. The elves were bustling around her, trying to be kind but terrifying her at the same time. They appeared to almost be monsters, grotesque and pushy beings she would rather have avoided for the time being.
"Viola, there you are."
The voice was cold and distant, coming from behind her. She dared not turn around, she did not want to see him. Would he appear to be himself, sweet and gorgeous with a laughing disposition? Or would she see him as he had appeared last night, a hideous apparition bent on causing pain? She feared that in her intoxicated state of mind that he wouldn't even look like himself, that he might seem disfigured somehow. She thought that she might go mad if he did.
"Are you hungry? You missed breakfast." such words of concern should never be spoken in such an inhuman tone. The ground swayed, becoming decidedly slanted under her feet, compelling her to turn around and face him.
"Hello Brandon," was all she could manage to say without screaming. She stared at him, not daring to move, and watched the colour leak from him until he stood before her, entirely gray and ugly. His hair turned dull and his skin became rotted and bleached, and soon he stood before her more frightening than a Dementor.
"How about a kiss Vi?" He ignored the horrified way in which she looked upon him, and reached for her hand, as was his right to do so. He truly believed that now, after he had consummated their relationship, he owned her.
Her lower lip trembled and she tried to turn away from him, maybe to walk or maybe even to run like a lunatic to the Headmaster's office, she wasn't sure. It was made obvious, though, that she would not be allowed to go anywhere, as he grabbed her roughly around the waist, pushing his lips to hers in a bruising, violent kiss.
She did scream then, as long and as loud as possible before his clenched fist silenced her. Her bottom lip split against a tooth and blood flooded into her mouth and down her chin, choking her and excited Brandon further.
He kissed her harder, sucking her lip to taste as much of her blood as he could, while effectively smothering her cries of distress. She struggled, but he was so much stronger than she was, and she wasn't in her right mind.
The elves were more panicked than Viola was. This sort of situation had never plagued the kitchens at Hogwarts, and the majority of them ran and locked themselves in pantries and cupboards.
Blindly, her hand sought his face and clawed viciously at his skin, not consciously trying to inflict damage, only trying to get him to let go of her. She tore into the soft flesh around his eyes, and though it disgusted her she forced herself to bite back, finally causing him to flinch and shove her into a wall.
From a distance of six feet they glared at each other. Brandon savoured the taste of her blood in his mouth while she loathed the taste of his. His fists were clenched, and she noticed that hers were too. Clutched in her hands were clumps of bloody gold hair that she had rent it from his scalp. She was nauseated at the sight of him, breathless and so clearly aroused from the violence that had passed between them.
Viola felt like she couldn't breathe, it was too hard and the air had been sucked out of the room. She collapsed in a heap against the wall, pressing her swollen cheek into the comforting cold stone. She heard his footsteps, but they were moving away from her. Probably going to clean himself up, maybe going to the hospital wing to get his pretty face fixed up.
She lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, silently begging it to stop moving and changing. The elves came out of their hiding places timidly, reverting quickly to what they did best and offered her something to eat and drink. The pity was evident on their little faces as they scurried around her still form.
They helped her to eat a small portion of bread, and pressed ice to the side of her face to help the swelling on her eye. They supported her head and held a cup of water to her lips, then went about their business, leaving her alone to come down from her high. She never worried that one of them might inform Dumbledore or any other teacher of her condition; for the most part, the house elves always minded their own business. They didn't ask questions or offer solutions, but one little elf (she thought it was Ducky but couldn't be sure) placed a folded towel under her head and covered her with a shabby wool blanket.
She lay there, hidden away in the cavernous kitchens, for most of the day. She thought she might have slept through some of it, because strange dreams became tangled with what she was sure was real. Slowly, though, the confusion faded away as the poison was processed by her body. Colours went back to normal, stones stopped sliding in the walls, and the room finally ceased its incessant spinning.
She refused to return to the dormitory. She didn't want to be anywhere near Slytherin part of the castle. She wanted more than anything to go up to the third floor, find the painting of Helga Hufflepuff and go into her old common room. Her friends would be there, Randy would be rolling a joint, and Gwen would probably be drawing something or other. The picture of them in her mind was so soothing compared to what she was facing now, and she wished with all her heart and soul that she could still be there.
Laying there on the floor, she went over the circumstances again and again. Why wasn't she still there? Why was she living in a bleak and dreary dungeon instead of the sun washed utopia that was the Hufflepuff common room? Why was she curled up on a stone floor with a split lip and a black eye, afraid to tell anyone why, when she should be smoking joints at that very moment with the people she loved?
She decided to find out, that night, where that stupid hat got its fucking ideas.
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Will drop pants for reviews.
Love Jeni
XOXOXOX