A/N: This is pre-Harry.

And I'm home from Canada/ALA in Chicago. And note that I will soon be writing Wicked fanfiction. Wicked as in the musical. Yeah.

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I could hear my heart thumping in my throat. I wanted to get out of class all day. I wanted the sun to set. I wanted to feel arms around my waist, warm breath on my neck and lips on mine. I wanted to be kissed tonight. By someone I actually loved. For the first time, I felt like I was right. It was such a weird sensation, feeling like I was doing something that was simply good for myself. Something that wasn't hurting me physically and emotionally. And no matter how much I deny it, I was hurting myself.

When I finally found myself heading down to the dungeons, I could feel my legs walking faster than my mind was working. I wasn't sure if I was running or walking, but I knew whatever I was doing, I was doing it quickly. I reached the door slightly out of breath, so I assumed I had been running. It was a miracle no one caught me. I reached out my hand and opened the door to his classroom just enough to slide in, and close it.

My heart was still racing when I closed the door. I brushed the hair out from my face and looked around until my eyes met his.

Running in the halls, Miss Harper? he said, one eyebrow raising.

I smiled as naïvely as I could manage, and asked, Are you going to punish me, Professor Snape? he said quietly, almost in a whisper. I think that deserves detention until the Christmas holidays.Just until the Christmas holidays? I asked, pulling a hair tie off my wrist and pulling my hair back loosely. The last thing I needed was hair in my face right now. I'm not going home for Christmas.I'm not permitted to give a student detention over the holidays, he said, a bit sourly.

I'm sure you could make an exception, I said, and walked over to my usual desk. I pulled myself onto it and crossed my legs, and faced Snape, who was leaning on his desk casually.

He looked down at his feet. I could... possibly.

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes slowly. Punish me, then.

I could almost feel a smile crossing his face, even with my eyes closed. Suddenly I felt fingers around my waist and stomach. I could feel warm breath on the back of my neck. My eyes opened, and I turned around gently. The second my head turned, I felt rough lips pressed against mine.

I sharply inhaled as his mouth opened to mine. My hands grasped for cloth and flesh, and landed on the sleeves of his robes. His hands ran though my hair gently. His fingers were so slender and precise that I could feel every stand of my hair being stroked as though it was pure gold.

Finally his lips pulled away from mine. I could feel him slowly standing up. My eyes were kept shut tightly as I got off the desk as well. His hands laced into mine and he led me against the chilly stone wall. I leaned against it for support as he stroked down my neck and cupped my breasts tenderly. I viciously went for his slightly open mouth, feeling as though shock waves were sent over me as his tongue entwined with mine. I pulled away just slightly, biting his lip gently. His lips were already cracked and chapped, so under even the slight pressure of my teeth, I could feel the skin break ever so slightly. His hands were aggressively running through my hair and down my back, strong and subtle against my buttocks. I tasted a small amount of his blood in my mouth from his lips.

This is wrong, I heard him whisper, but he was smiling brilliantly as he said it. I shouldn't do this. It's utterly forbidden.Since when am I one to follow the rules, I breathed.

I was never fond of rules either, he said, slowly pulling away. He sunk to the ground and lay against the wall, panting. I guess that hasn't changed.What do you expect, I laughed, sliding down beside him. We're Slytherins. We bend rules. I paused, and leaned my head against his. But whoever said bending the rules is a bad thing.I believe, he said. It is a good thing. I twisted my head on his shoulders, and kissed him again. A very good thing, he added against my lips.

Suddenly, he stood up. I almost fell over, he got up so quickly. He walked over to the door, and locked it tight, then muttered a spell under his breath.

No one will disturb us, I think.

I beamed. I wanted this, so badly.

He walked over to his desk, and sat there, as if waiting for me. I strode over to his side, and he stood up. He took my hands in his, and with one quick movement, used my hands to sweep everything off his desk. Papers, books, quills, bottles; all flew off the desk and scattered over the floor. One bottle full of a white powder I recognized as powdered unicorn horn smashed on the floor, sending glittering white powder in a thick coat over everything around it. Its healing power was obviously in effect, because soon the cut on Severus' lower lip was gone, both his lips smooth and unchapped. Other random cuts that we may have had over out bodies were reduced to nothing more than a smooth pink scar. The desk had a thick white coat of the stuff all over its surface.

I cried out loud in joy and I slid myself onto the desk, sending the white powder flying around the air. He smirked slightly at my childishness, but also leaned over my body on the desk, slowly undoing the buttons on my white uniform shirt. As he was finishing, I scrambled to slip my black shoes and knee-highs off my legs, noticing for the first time how tan the looked compared to Severus' abnormally white skin.

As my shirt came off, I rolled over onto my back playfully, letting him unhook the strap of my black lace brazier. As soon as I felt I was free, I flipped him onto the desk beside me with all of my strength, letting my newly-freed breasts dangle in front of his eyes.

You know, I said, as I was undoing the snaps of his pants. If I had known undressing was so tedious, I would have just come naked.My my, so much to learn, he said, in a voice that reminded me more of dark chocolate than anything I had ever heard. Enjoy this, my lovely Meg, for the preparation is the second-best part.And what, may I ask, is the best?

He opened his mouth, but then closed it, giving me a look. I laughed out loud, and touched his face lovingly. You know I know, I said.

He slipped my skirt off, as well as my underwear, throwing them away in the chaotic mess around us. I finished unbuttoning his shirt, the last of the clothes between us. But as I began to let it slip off his arms, he grabbed my hand, and pulled it away.

There's no need to continue, he said quietly.

Wh... what?Taking off my shirt is unnecessary, he said, a slight sadness in his voice.

Well, then maybe I'll just put my shirt back on, I said stubbornly. If I couldn't see all of him, even if the only thing he didn't want me to view was his arms, I wouldn't let him see all of me.

he pleaded, stroking my breast gently, as if he didn't want to see them hidden. I found myself smiling at what might be going through his head. I finally said, with a grimace. You're not going to like it.

I was clueless, but I was happy with my triumph. I pulled his shirt off completely and tossed it aside. It took me a moment to realize what he was trying to hide. His fingers were curled around his left arm.

I touched his hand softly. Don't hide stuff from me, I said, a little more fiercely than I meant to. I slowly peeled away his fingers. He let go finally, reluctantly.

My eyes were staring straight into two slit-like eyes owned by the most gruesomely shaped head I had ever seen. The head's open mouth seemed to be home to a winding snake with matching slit-like eyes. The dark mark, I knew.

So you're a Death Eater, then, I said quietly, unmoving.

He just looked at me. I'm nothing, for right now, he said under his breath. I belong to nobody. Well... that is untrue. I belong to everybody.

He froze, as if his own words shocked him. He buried his face in his hands.

I felt immobilized. I stood facing my new lover, watching him struggle not to fall apart. I knew it was his pride. I always knew. He's so proud. Too proud to admit any vulnerability. I was like that, too. I knew very well.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to touch him, but at the same time, wanting to throw my arms around him, tell him he had a choice, tell him I didn't care. But I lay unmoving.

We stayed there, as if frozen in time for what felt like days, though only ten minutes in reality. Finally, I broke.

I sobbed. I couldn't think of anything more to say, to do. I wanted to tell him it didn't matter. But the words wouldn't form.

He gazed at me with glazed eyes. It reminded me of the expression of a dead man. He looked almost empty. I had to say something, but I couldn't. So I slammed him on the desk.

I rolled him onto his back, summoning all my strength to move him into position. I kneeled over his shocked body, dancing my fingers down his groin to wake him up. But just before I reached my prize, my last resort, he grabbed my hand. He pulled my hand away, but pulled himself into me.

I gasped with surprise, looking at him, checking his emotion. His eyes were shut, his mouth loose. He was content, and full of pleasure, I knew. I let my head fall back on my neck as we moved as one, finally. The ultimate forgiveness.