Potions: What would a Girl do without it?
By Slave4severus
Disclaimer: I do not own any of JKR's work. If I would, Severus would only be performing for me and not en masse.
His seething anger was veiled beneath a thin layer of wintry indifference. His hard, rapid footfalls were reverberating off the dungeon walls, echoing warnings of his volatile disposition, inadvertently parting the hushed groups of Slytherins on their way to the Great Hall like a sinister incarnation of Moses parting the proverbial Red Sea.
'That infuriating child!'
She did not feel like a child, Severus.
His scowl deepened as he ascended the stairs, his conscience finally having emerged from the shadowy depths he had forcibly pushed it into last night. The worst part of last nights encounter had been the crushing wave of self-loathing and disgust that had threatened to drown him after he had obliviated her.
He had not slept a wink all night.
Admit it Severus, you wanted to kiss the moisture from those perfect lips even after she gazed up at you with that vacant expression.
'She is nothing more than a child!'
His libido laughed mockingly as it conjured the images he had procured from her mind in rapid succession. He growled lowly and sneered more at himself than the terrified second year he physically forced out of his way, not breaking his stride.
He was being absolutely ridiculous!
He was a former Death Eater turned spy; had seen and done everything imaginable that could be considered terrifying and vile. He had put children out of their misery after debauched revels, physically sickened by the men who delighted in taking innocent and unwilling flesh.
She was not unwilling.
"Yes, you tell yourself that, old man, perhaps it will lessen the stench of corruption."
"Sir?"
Severus' eyes focused on the seventh year leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs, cursing for having said that bit out loud.
"If I would have addressed you, Mr. Zabini, you would have been aware of it."
"Of course, sir."
Severus assessed him with a calculating glance, stopping his gait abruptly while his robes swirled ominously around his person. Blaise Zabini was unfortunately one of the many Slytherins who were being primed to follow their father's footsteps. He could see the changes every time he let his charges go home for the holidays; they turned more withdrawn and thoughtful every year, until after graduation, when they would be initiated into the Dark Lord's ranks with a fanfare of rape and blood.
For now, however, he was the unwavering constant in their life; the same every day without fail.
"Do not make it a habit to loiter, Mr. Zabini," Severus smirked knowingly. "Someone could mistake you for a Gryffindor."
Blaise answered with a smirk of his own. "Of course, sir." He turned and walked toward the Great Hall with a distinct swagger of confidence.
That was until he ran into her.
Severus watched from the shadows as Zabini made contact with a rather flustered looking Miss Flint, chest first. He could hear the soft gasp of distress as she clutched at her bruised bosom and staggered backwards a few paces, Zabini reacted on instinct Severus told himself, which did not stop his hands from curling into battering rams at the sight.
Zabini's response time was fast, he would give him that. Within a blink of an eye, his hands snaked out to steady her, inadvertently bringing her closer to his person. With his trademark baritone, he mumbled something followed by a smile that could only be described as 'winning'.
Severus scoffed softly before he could stop himself.
The girl backed up from his personal space and looked apologetic, saying something that Severus was absolutely not straining to hear. That infuriating lout actually had the gall to bow slightly to her and say something charming no doubt.
At least it must have been, based on her reaction. His blood ran cold, while he stared at the enchanting creature laughing at whatever inane nonsense Zabini had conjured.
Severus was furious with himself. Why was he bloody reacting this way! He was a man always in control of every aspect of his life; every one of them. Until he had seen the images in her mind…
His eyes narrowed instantly as he contemplated the most outrageous explanation he could come up with. Perhaps he had been set up by someone who had altered the girl's mind? What were the odds of an innocent girl having fantasies about a man twice her age? Especially a man such as himself. Although it was difficult to cast enough memory charms to insert certain permanent ideas or thoughts, it was not unheard of.
Lestrange had always been rather skilled at such trickery. Perhaps the Serpentine Scum had finally gotten wind of his double agent role and had sent the perfect trap, wrapped in a pleasing exterior and not unfortunate in her studies.
Then again, he had found her in his personal laboratory. Perhaps the Dark Lord wanted to know more about the deadly potions he had been developing, and of course, their intricate antidotes. She could have slipped him something while in his domain; he would have to ask Salazar if there had been something amiss when he came upon her.
Severus hated to admit it, but she could have attempted to poison him again with another type of potion, which would explain these irrational carnal urges he had been experiencing since last night.
His scowl intensified as he watched the girl leave the Entrance Hall with her head held high, confidence and poise clinging to every one of her steps.
Hmm, that supple, young body…
He did not just think of the witch as supple! That voice needed to be exorcised.
With his robes wrapped protectively about his body he strode toward the Great Hall, not glancing at the double doors for which she had been headed. He needed more answers, and Albus would have to supply him, or else the old man would find himself sucking on the entire tin of those blasted lemon drops.
Thankfully, the bloody-boy-with-nine-lives and his sidekick were the first stress relievers of the day, and how could he resist taking Gryffindor points this early in the morning.
"Potter, Weasley!"
Professor Flitwick squeaked from his toppled position amongst the benches. All three parties stopped their struggle; if one could call Draco side-stepping Weasley's meaty grasp any effort at all, and whipped their heads toward him.
"Twenty points each for brawling, another twenty for attacking the Head Boy, and detention Monday night at seven."
He did not look at them or slow his pace. He had already dismissed them from his thoughts.
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The cold air and bright sun hardly sweetened her temper. With rushing strides she began walking along side the rivers shore, wrapping her forest green robes tighter around her shivering body. Her hair whipped around her face, stinging her watering eyes and obstructing her view of the majestic mountain side and dark rippling waters of the lake.
Even though the day was less than warm, Alanna sat down on the cold ground and leaned back in exhaustion. She had not slept well yet again. A faceless man with long blond hair haunted last night's dreams.
He was familiar…just beyond her grasp of comprehension.
How utterly frustrating! Where was a piano when you truly needed one?
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and thought about last nights activities. She recalled her detention with Mr. Filch and then arriving at the Potions classroom, however, the walk down into the dungeons was hazy at best. After a rather nasty encounter with the Potions Master, she had brewed Mrs. Norris' potion without one bit of conversation.
He had warded the supply cupboard with a flick of his wand and tersely spoken words, glaring at her darkly.
She had lifted her chin and retrieved her own supplies, beginning the two-hour brewing process, while he marked his papers sending covert glances her way ever so often.
She ignored him as best as possible. When her body was not on fire!
Nothing a softly whispered cooling charm could not take care of but, how could she just be so horribly lame? Not only with the Professor, but with all the other boys in the castle as well?
Sweaty palms, rapid breathing, racing heart beat, hyper sensitive sense of smell….she was acting like ruddy beast in heat that had been deprived of male contact for many years!
If you substituted the word 'beast' for 'woman', she was actually describing herself.
With a disgusted scoff, Alanna closed her eyes and fought against the flaming heat of her cheeks. This morning she had been listening at the door of her shared chambers, Hermione insisting on not having read anything about her in a pure-blooded text.
At first she had been rather insulted for being 'researched' in such a manner, but then thinking it strange herself that not even her birth certificate had been publicized.
Her parents probably forgot to release it. Simple as that. End of story.
More than enough people knew about her existence. Her uncle and cousin for instance, and her father's business associates always brought her gifts addressed to the 'daughter of the family.' She had even received a rather beautiful trinket for her fourteenth birthday: an emerald teardrop pendant that shimmered beautifully.
Her father had opened the black velvet box and regarded it darkly, muttering a few magic-detection spells, before relinquishing the gift to her. He had placed the platinum necklace around her neck and kissed her forehead, then turning and tossing the card that came with it.
Of course, she had retrieved the card and read it for herself. 'To the loveliest lady to ever grace this hall, may this humble offering accentuate your beauty.'
Someone had thought of her as a 'lovely' lady; not just a knobbly-kneed girl without any social graces that had been forbidden to accompany her parents to social events. She had never parted with the gift, and wore it to this day beneath the many layers of fabric that constituted her robes.
Deep in thought, she had opened the door and faced the two people on the other side. Head girl and boy….the same boy who had been rather rude to her during Transfiguration class. Malfoy, did he say? Yet another name she did not recognize.
However, a sensuous smile, graceful bow, and a breakfast invitation later, she had walked beside him like a docile cow to the breakfast table. Jaded by that intriguing smell of freshly showered, strong, vivacious male. Why did every other female seem immune?
While they sat together at the breakfast table, she could not shake a rather strange feeling of déjà vu…
She would have remembered meeting him, and did not feel ashamed to ask him about it. Prior to receiving an answer, Ron had come up to them, highly affronted, and demanded to know what Draco was 'playing at'. His overbearing behaviour shocked Alanna.
"What are you playing at, Malfoy!"
"Your manners, Weasley, are rather atrocious, so I would not know to what you are referring to."
Ron's face turned a darker shade of red.
"You know damn well what I mean, Ferret! Do not ever come around her again, or you will get a repeat performance of the shiner Hermione gave you during third year."
"You have mudbloods fighting your battles now, Weasel?"
Ron advanced on Draco, eyes flashing, muscles bulging, and knuckles cracking in anticipation. He stopped at Alanna's voice.
"Bravo gentleman. I applaud your obvious attempts at being civil with each other in public." Her sarcastic comment was emphasized with a slight arch of a brow, her eyes settling on Ron. "Although I appreciate your gesture of…is it protectiveness?"
He nodded grimly.
"…I assure you that I am more than capable of having enough judge of character to select my acquaintances; let alone defend myself when the situation calls for it. If I am in need of rescuing, I will let you know, Ron."
Draco's smirk faded when she gazed at him.
"I know you place great stock on lineage and 'good breeding', Draco. Therefore, I find it quite surprising that your manners are lacking basic refinement in your regard toward others. Correct me if I am wrong, but is the term 'mudblood' not a rather primitive way of addressing a fellow witch or wizard?"
He nodded minutely.
"I thought as much. I am rather shocked to find that you would lower yourself into calling someone, who is supposedly your equal, such a derogatory name."
Alanna stood, placing her napkin on her plate.
"If you would excuse me gentleman, I would rather not be privy to your personal vendetta. Draco, thank you for your company; Ron, I will see you later in the Common Room, I'm sure."
With that, she had left their presence, acknowledging a rather stunned looking Harry on the way out…
…and smashingly running into yet another bloke, whose only offence, was to have entered the double doors when she attempted her grand exit.
Perhaps they gave awards to the most physically and hormonally challenged of the year? Then again, maybe not.
Blaise Zabini. Also known as tall, dark, and handsomely Slytherin, with a rather hard frame...
"Quidditch practice is paying off I suppose," Blaise grinned at the blushing new girl. "If you want to try something a little harder next time, you can always jump on my broom and I will take you for a ride."
Alanna had laughed at the outlandish response.
If she tried something a bit harder, she would probably crack her other three ribs she had not injured over the past week.
However, the thought of riding a broom had merit.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of laughter carried on a gale of wind. The sun had risen higher without her notice, her thoughts far too occupied. Squinting against the bright light she watched numerous students walking toward what seemed to be a rather large arena of sort. Some had their brooms slung over their shoulders, while others chatted excitedly, throwing searching glances over their shoulders.
Alanna rose from her sitting position and cleansed herself of dust and leaves as she walked toward them, the wheels in her head turning swiftly.
All she needed…was a broom.
That was all.
She came here by broom, and she would fly home on one.
Now if she could only remember from which direction she had come from…
"WE'RE GONNA CRUSH YOU THIS YEAR, GRYFFINDOR!"
A younger boy dressed in yellow and black robes yelled toward her red and gold clad housemates. The other house teams laughed loudly at the blushing youth and continued on their trek to the arena responding with jibes like "That will be the day!" and "Gryffindor himself was still around the last time YOU won!"
"Alanna!"
She looked up sharply at the sound of her name, smiling at Harry's waving form, returning the gesture. He beckoned her toward him and she readily complied, her eyes falling on his broom.
"You want to come and watch the Quidditch tryouts?" He smiled down at her.
"Quidditch tryouts….sure, why not."
Anything to get her closer to that broom! Sweet Merlin, what kind of a broom was it?
Harry noticed her gaze on his Firebolt and handed her his clipboard with the Quidditch line-up.
"This is a Firebolt," he pulled the handle level to the ground and dropped the broom, which levelled parallel to the ground with a soft hum and 'whoosh' sound. "It is the newest in broom technology, used by international Quidditch players across the globe," Harry ran his hand lovingly over the ebony wood. "It can accelerate from zero to one-hundred and fifty mph in only ten seconds and has a built in shielding against wind and inertial forces."
Harry swung himself on the stationary broom and hovered only inches above the stick of the broom. She looked up at him in awe.
"It has a built in cushioning charm," he said with a grin, "not to mention the unbreakable charm that comes in very handy when you connect with something solid, like a tree….or a wall."
He peered at her over his glasses and ran his hand through his unruly hair.
"Yes, well…" She blushed and tried to switch the topic. "So, where are you off to?"
Harry looked at her strangely, repeating himself. "Quidditch tryouts. We have them every year, you should come."
He gracefully dismounted the broom and swung it over his left shoulder.
"Have you ever played?" They both started walking toward the arena.
"Actually, I have not. I know it is a sport of course, and that most people find it entertaining, but I have never been able to play or actually observe a match."
Harry grinned and picked up his pace. "Well then you should be in for a treat! We are recruiting a new chaser and perhaps a beater or two depending on the crop of hopefuls."
On the way to the Quidditch pitch, as the arena was called, Harry gave her a quick rundown of how the game actually worked. Alanna only listened half heartedly, her gaze returning incessantly to his magnificent broom that could bring her home in no time.
Now, if only he would let her borrow it for a ride around the pitch…
"Oy! HARRY! We're up first, Mate!" Ron schooled his broom ten feet above them and smiled sheepishly at Alanna before looking back at his Captain.
Harry mounted his broom and took the clipboard from her proffered hand.
"You want to try out, Alanna? I hear that you are a good flier," he expertly manoeuvred his broom to hover right above her.
Merlin's feet she needed that broom!
"Sure, Harry, but I don't have a broom to fly on, if you cou—"
"There are a few Cleansweeps in the shed behind the pitch - just grab one and meet us here," he jotted her name down on his clipboard, and then bolted upward toward the team.
'Damnation!' Of course, he would not offer her his own.
It took her a few minutes to locate the broom shed, opening the door she breathed in the musty air, her eyes critically glancing over the rickety brooms on display.
Slim pickings at best.
Grabbing the best of the lot, she hastened to return, trying to ignore the rude comments coming from the spectators.
"You must be desperate this year Potter! This one can't even dodge a building!" She steeled herself against the laughter, her face flaming with embarrassment.
Harry ignored the cheap seats and looked over his roster. "Weasley keeper, Weasley, Robins, and Flint chasers. Kirke and Sloper make sure you make the bludgers count we are trying for a new chaser."
Everyone flew into position as Alanna mounted her 'stick', rising shakily to where Ginny was hovering, her flaming hair billowing in the wind.
"I didn't know you liked Quidditch," the red head smiled approvingly.
"I am surprised myself, actually," she said in a bit of a panic, while the broom decided to lurch forward in protest.
"Damn broom!" Alanna protested.
"You should have seen the first broom I started Quidditch with. It was a Dustmaster 50, the only broom that was better at sweeping than flying."
Alanna did not take much comfort in that statement.
"Just remember, pass the ball to one of us or try to get it through those hoops at the end there."
Pass…hoops….ok. This could not be too hard.
"Oh and watch for these two meatheads!" Alanna looked up at the two boys with very mean looking clubs. "They are going to try to knock you off your broom."
What!
Just then a jet-black ball whizzed by her right shoulder, scaring her half off her broom. With a mighty swing of his club, Kirke hit the ball with a dull 'thwack' sending it toward the laughing Slytherin team, who scrambled to take cover.
He grinned toward the competition then looked at her with a smirk. "You may want to get going, Potter wants us to show you a rough time."
She did not need to be told twice. Her thighs firmly gripped the broom and she shot past Kirke and Sloper, the latter having just made contact with the second black ball aiming for her back.
Quickly dipping downward and to the side, she watched it zoom past her and toward one of the other chasers. Ginny turned up to her right and threw a rather large ball in her direction. She had no choice but to let go of the handle and catch it.
Alanna nearly stopped her broom and stared down at the odd ball.
"Alanna!"
She looked up just in time to see both black balls zooming toward her with ungodly speed. She swooped into a nose-dive toward the ground, the Cleansweep vibrating harshly beneath her left hand, the ball clutched tightly under her right arm. The ground was fast approaching as she tugged on the handle sharply.
Unfortunately, nothing seemed to happen. The bloody broom would not budge, spiralling out of control while the green grass of the pitch came closer and closer.
Alanna let go of the ball she was holding in order to pull sharper on the handle, its vibrations shaking her entire upper body. Those blasted balls were still hot on her tail, zooming around trying to unseat her, waiting to split her head like an overly ripe melon, or at the very least give her a nasty concussion.
The pressure in her jaw was close to breaking, her teeth grinding down at the thought of dying by sudden impact.
Her last breath was knocked out of her quite suddenly as she felt herself being literally plucked from her broom, a very strong arm snaking around her upper abdomen clutching her tightly. Alanna's relief was short lived, her body sagging out of her rescuers arm, her hands desperately clutching for hold.
"Don't wiggle so much, or I am going to drop you!"
She felt the broom he was on slowing somewhere close to the big hoops at the end of the pitch. Without thinking, Alanna looked downward and instantly became dizzy. Sweet Merlin's slippers, they were at least forty feet in the air….
"DON'T YOU LET HER FALL, MALFOY!"
She could hear Ron's roaring voice from a distance, her body slipping inch by inch out of the grasp of her rescuer.
"Alanna, I need to let you go."
What!
She could hear the strain in his voice and looked up to meet his face. His grasp slipped again and she hung, dangling now, her right hand digging into the flesh of his forearm.
"I promise I will catch you," he hissed.
A second later and she was freefalling, the air roaring around her body, but before she could let out a scream of distressed she was back in his arms; clinging to him without dignity.
"It's alright now, your fine. I got you," he kept repeating those words into her ear, trying to soothe her.
"WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING AT, MALFOY!" Ron roared at him, his broom stopping mere feet from his.
Alanna was too stunned to think much of anything, other than the repeated echo inside of her head that begged her to go home. Home. Home.
"I SAW YOU DROP HER, YOU BLOODY PEACOCKD FERRET!"
Harry had reached the scene as well and took note of Alanna clutching Malfoy as if he were going to let her go again. His green gaze darkened and at the broom that saved his housemate.
Malfoy had a Firebolt.
Ron's eyes were about to bulge out of his red face. All he could think about was how Malfoy had let her go, and now the way she was clutching to him. Her legs had wrapped themselves intimately around the git's thighs, hands clutching at his back and her head resting on his sternum.
He could hear her panting for Merlin's sake!
Malfoy smirked with a knowing look. This was killing the Weasel! He adjusted his hold on Alanna and soothingly caressed her back.
"Give her to me!" Ron demanded firmly, extending his own hands toward her.
"Are you out of your mind, Ron?" Ginny was appalled.
The rest of the team had finally made it over to the scene, all worried for Alanna's safety.
"Take her down, Malfoy," Harry demanded, narrowing his eyes at the blonde.
Draco narrowed his in return at Harry and suggestively placed both of his hands on Alanna's waist. "I will bring her back to the castle, besides, my new broom needs to be broken in…"
He smirked suggestively at both Ron and Harry.
"YOU TOUCH HER AND I WILL KILL YOU, MALFOY!"
"Ronald calm down! He is only taking her up to the castle!" Ginny pleaded with him clutching her brother's shoulder and giving Alanna worried glances.
"Alanna? Do you want one of us to go with you?" Harry's voice was soothing.
Home. Home. All she could think about was leaving. Her head lifted and she looked at him through a curtain of dark hair. "No, Harry. I will be fine."
He nodded curtly and looked back at Malfoy frostily. He brought his own Firebolt closer to Malfoy's and stared at him unblinkingly, "Don't do anything to her that you would regret."
With that said, he flew off to the middle of the pitch, the rest of the team following reluctantly. Draco smirked again. This was going easier than he had anticipated.
He slowly moved his broom toward the castle gliding smoothly toward the lake, a rather romantic spot early in the evening while the sun was setting. Although it was around lunchtime now, she would certainly appreciate the effort. Girls were shallow like that.
"You can look up now," he said softly, and she did.
Alanna quickly noticed how intimately she was holding on to him and tried to disentangle herself.
"Although you are sitting on a Firebolt, you should not try to untangle yourself until we have reached the ground."
She narrowed her eyes at that. Firstly, because she was sitting on a broom just like Harry's, and secondly, because she knew he was enjoying her holding on to him just a little too much.
Moreover, what kept poking her inner thigh? 'It must be his wand,' she thought dismissively.
"Draco?"
"Hmm?"
"I just wanted to say thank you…"
"You are quite welcome. I wasn't going to let you die."
Alanna smiled and scooted back on the handle of the broom, looking into his quicksilver eyes. He really was handsome.
"I not only wanted to thank you for my life, but…" her hands softly rested on his robe-clad pectoral muscles.
Draco's breath caught in his throat. How he loved it when they were easily manipulated…
"…for your broom."
"For my…what?" He was confused. What did his broom have anything to do with this?
"I hope you can forgive me," Alanna whispered before she locked her ankles under his broom and gave his chest a mighty shove.
The last thing she saw before she turned on his Firebolt and sped toward the Forbidden Forest was the shocked expression of one Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Captain, Seeker, and Sex God of Hogwarts, hurtling toward the black depths of a very icy lake.
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Author's Note: Ok, I am about to go on a long weekend, where I will outline the next chapter. I HOPE it won't take too long. Action packed of course. We all LOVE Alanna on a broom. Thanks again to my faithful readers: Mystic (who really has no choice!), Mark Darcy, ThouandI, HazelVervain.
To my newest obsession Odyssia: I am very humbled by your review, thank you!
To all of you who keep track of my story PLEASE Review. I have hit 100 thousand words and naturally want my ego stroked.
Pink, you sod, you were supposed to review! Thanks for the input, mate.
What do you think is going to happen to Alanna? Will she make it home in one piece?