I AM SORRY!
MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY HANUKAH! HAPPY KWANZAA! HAPPY HOLIDAYS! HAPPY NEW YEAR! HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR! HAPPY YEAR OF THE DOG! HAPPY ST. VALENTINE'S DAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAIT! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RACHEL! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ST. PATRICK'S DAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ME! HAPPY PASSOVER! HAPPY GOOD FRIDAY! HAPPY EASTER! HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY! HAPPY END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or any of the characters… yeah… w/e
Music: Gay Bar by Electric Six (You! I want to take you to a gay bar! I want to take you to a gay bar! I want to take you to a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar! Let's start a war! Start a nuclear war! At the gay bar, gay bar, gay bar!) and My December by Linkin Park (This is my December… these are my snow covered trees… this is me pretending… this is all I need…) and These Things by She Wants Revenge (It's cold out, but her popsicle melts / She's in the bathroom, she pleasures herself / Says I'm a bad man, she's locking me out / It's cause of these things / cause of the these things…), Glory To The Brave by Hammerfall (So this is goodbye, I take leave of you and… Spread your wings and you will fly away now… Fly away now! Nothing on earth stays forever, but none of your deeds were in vain… deep in our hearts you will live again, you've gone to the home of the brave…), Down Once More/Track Down This Murderer by Andrew Lloyd Weber (From the Phantom of the Opera)(Phantom (to Raoul): Monsieur, I bid you welcome. Did you think that I would harm her? Why should I make her pay for the sins which are yours? Order your fine horses now! Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now, except perhaps Christine! Phantom (To Christine): Start a new life with me! Buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me and you send your lover to his death! This is the choice; this is the point of no return!)(Later: Phantom: Masquerade, paper faces on parade, masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you…Christine, I love you…Christine and Raoul: Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you. Raoul: Share each day with me… Christine: Each night Christine and Raoul: Each morning… Phantom: You alone can make my song take flight! It's over, now, the music of the night!), and Closer by Nine Inch Nails (I want to fuck you like an animal! I want to feel you from the inside… I want to fuck you like an animal!...)
Book: Back to the Divide by Elizabeth Kay, Howl's Moving Castle by Diane Wynne Jones, Montmorency by Eleanor Updale, Eldest by Christopher Paolini, Search Of The Moon King's Daughter by Linda Holeman, Kings Shadow by Elizabeth Alder, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris, Lirael by Garth Nix, Penultimate Peril by Lemony Snicket, Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman, Drowned Wednesday by Garth Nix, Look For Me By Moonlight by Mary Downing Hahn, The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton, The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux, Phantom by Susan Kay, The Thief and the Beanstalk by P.W. Catanese, and The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien that's a lot of fucking books!
Anime: D.N. Angel and BLEACH and Princess Tutu and Gankutsuou and Azumanga Daioh! and LOVELESS, and Gravitation and Naruto and Samurai Champloo and Full Metal Alchemist.
Manga: Saikano by Shin Takahashi and Revolutionary Girl Utena by Chiho Saito and Be-Papas and With Love From Eroica by Yasuko Aoike and Here is Greenwood by Yukie Nasu and Pet Shop of Horrors by Matsuri Akino and (well, this one is more of an American graphic novel…w/e) The Sandman series by Neil Gaiman (he writes the story line and a whole bunch of people do the art!)
School Project: Imaginative story (wOoT!) and Lab Write Up (bleh!) and whatever Mr. Miller (dies from boredom because math is fucked up) assigned us… then, there is the fucking science expo project (My question is: Does heredity affect fingerprints… I have a lot of fucking stuff on my trifold board…), the really terribly fucked up Africa project shitty thing which I'm not really doing although it's worth most of my social studies grade, Now we have Renaissance (OMG I spelled it right!) Faire and my English teacher thinks I need to go to a mental hospital because my imaginative story is about an emo boy who cuts himself and is really creepy. Well… whatever… at least we're reading The Outsiders… I LOVE that book! swoon…Also, I totally messed up with my math test thingy for the district but… that's alright because the first one I took I got a passing grade. I was just trying to get a better score so… fuck it. Also, we did our stupid plant experiment… they were gay. I planted radishes and I totally messed up my variables… w/e… fucking school…
Yeah, I'm really sorry that the fourth chapter took so long for me to write…cries THE WHOLE SUMMER… WASTED ON ONE FRICKIN' CHAPTER! WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO?
But… what am I saying? The whole school year, wasted on one frickin' chapter… damn, when I post this thingy, the world is going to end because it took me so long to update.
Missy – thanks for all the reviews! XDDD nice… you killed my beloved Rafale… sorry, Missy, but, he's gonna end up with someone in the end. And, it ain't gonna be you! I'm not gonna say who, tho… XDDD
Me – thank you to myself twice for that… sorry that the link didn't work pats self on back it's okay… you can just email me if you would really like to know… it's not that important, tho.
kitekaranath – yeah… Snape's got a big family… that's because he's Italian and the Italians have FUCKINGLY HUGE families… BIG!
Anno – well… I made Snape to be more than what he seems to be…
Oh, and by the way, thank you Johnny for helping me with the title! (though… when he gave me the title… he… well, sounded REALLY high…He was talking about "these bodies" and "why are they so limited?" and shit like that…) ahem… anyway… I love you!
Sorry… this'll be the last thing I have to say, WARNING! WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING, WARNING!
There is some "mature" content within this chapter. Not "MATURE" like NC-17, but "mature" like R… ahem…high R. Or… w/e… maybe not… I dunno…
Chapter Five
(Il Capitolo Cinque)
These Bodies
(Questi Corpi)
NOTEThis chapter is telling the story of Severus' parents Timothy and Margery. So, please don't get confused!
The train was bouncing and it was starting to make him feel sick. He hated trains, they were too noisy and they moved around too much. If anyone had been sitting near him, they would be able to see the horrible glare on his too pale face and his white hands choking the life out of the handle on his single black suitcase. But, no one was sitting near Timothy Snape while on the train to Arncott, England because of the menacing aura he had at the time.
'I should have apparated, I should have apparated, I should have apparated," he thought as he tried his best to keep his stomach still. 'I wish Margery was here, she would help me calm down… stupid woman… just had to stay with her damn daughter and grandchild. I hate babies… they're stupid and don't know anything.' After more thought of how much he hated children, Timothy finally figured that if he really wanted to stop having a retching feeling in his throat and stomach, he should at least try to fall asleep. Moving his body into a bit more comfortable position in the seat he was in, Timothy leaned his head back and tried to wipe his mind. But, in trying to get rid of all thought, he started to be more aware of his surroundings. He could hear the train car squeak and he could hear the whispers of the people in the same car as him.
'Think of something… something good that'll keep your mind from stupid muggle things like trains. Come on, Timothy… it can't be that hard. What's a good memory?' He sat there a while, trying to figure out if he even had any good memories. Finally, he found one and he remembered…
He was sitting in the black high backed chair in the living room. Her chair. He touched the worn out arms of it, wondering what she had done to wear out the fabric. He got up and kneeled in front of the chair, leaning over the seat of it, placing his slightly hooked nose into the cushion, smelling it. Smelling her scent, her aroma… that warm smell that wafted from her breasts and torso and legs and hair. He made his way up the chair, smelling it all over, touching it all over. And then, he sat back down into it. He leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes, imagining her giving him pleasure like a good wife should do for her husband. He smiled, imagining her plump breasts around his manhood, her dark red hair shadowing her face, her whispering how much she wanted his essence upon her. And then he would please her request. He was grinning now… oh, how much he wanted that to happen…
He opened his eyes, now… his grin slacking into a mere sad smile. His eyes had gone low… he curled up in her chair, wishing she was there to hug him, touch him, love him… oh, how much he loved her…
Oh, how much he loved her
ﺞ
ζ
"Timothy…" he could hear her calling for him… her sweet, sing-songy voice calling out his name, so, he smiled, cuddling into the warm chair.
"Timothy…" he wanted to make her wait… play hard to catch and when she was finally fed up with him, he would pop up and say, 'Sono qui, il mio amore!' and he would take her into his arms and kiss her passionately and they would sit, curled up in the chair, and sleep. (I'm right here, my love!)
"Timothy! God, wake up, you bloody man! Stop being so bloody childish!" And he was slapped over the head…
'Talmente…' Timothy thought. 'Non era lei… suono talmente le medesimo… Sig. Giovanni ha tale un spensierata, femminile voce … Dio, quell'uomo è donna, lo giuro!' He sat up and opened his tired eyes. ( So… It wasn't her… they sound so much alike… Mr. Giovanni has such a carefree, feminine voice… God, that man is a woman, I swear it!)
"Good Afternoon, Giovanni, Sir…" He grumbled, adverting his eyes from the face of the tall, elegant man.
"Good Afternoon? Timothy, five o'clock is the evening! Your father said that you could pass as a natural British and now I see that he thinks much too highly of you! Your accent has too much of your Italian mixed in with it and your grammar is terrible! You should have said, "Good Evening, Mr. Giovanni, Sir…"!"
Timothy rolled his eyes as the father of the woman he was to marry ranted on and on about how terrible his grammar was.
'Come mia grammatica importa? Ha no importante a aiuto a me sedurre Margery… bene… forse esso potrebbe ad, ma… forse Margery ama uomini italiani che parlare in spezzato inglese… o forse, io potrei ad appena parlare ad lei in italiano… è la non una idioma di amore… chi è dire lei non ha un riservato bramoso per uomini che parlare in un amore idioma a lei…?' (How does my grammar matter? It has no significance to help me with seducing Margery… well… perhaps it could, but… maybe Margery likes Italian men who speak in broken English… or maybe, I could just speak to her in Italian… it is a language of love… who's to say she doesn't have a secret longing for men who speak in a love language to her…?)
"Timothy, are you listening to me?" He was snapped back to reality.
"Sì, signore Giovanni, stavo ascoltando tutto voi de-" Timothy caught himself before finishing the last word. His face fell and he looked to the ground. (Yes, Mr. Giovanni, I was listening to all you said) "Mr. Giovanni, I am sorry… I should have actually been listening to your speak,"
Mr. Giovanni reached out his hand and lifted Timothy's chin upwards. He took his hand away, looking into Timothy's strange green eyes and slapped him across the face. Timothy winced, clutching his cheek with one of his hands and stared out to Mr. Giovanni with a look of hatred.
"Timothy," Mr. Giovanni said casually, brushing off his suit. "I would have believed far better from you… first of all, you lied… second, you lied in Italian, and third you used the incorrect word when apologizing! You should have been listening to me speak. Not my speak! Really, Timothy… you should at least try to live up to the standards of others." He gave his little elegant sneer and walked out of the room. Timothy slumped back into Her chair… and sighed. He hated speaking in English, so the only thing he disliked about his soon-to-be wife was that she only could speak English and only knew a few common words in Italian, even though she was from mostly Italian decent. It was pitiful in Timothy's eyes, but… he knew that love could conquer the utmost annoyances such as difference of speech… so, Timothy didn't mind so much. And Timothy fell asleep again, in her chair, thinking of her loveliness and smiling to himself as he dreamt of only her.
ζ
"Mr. Snape?" He could feel her touching him, her soft touch, her fingers gently caressing his upper arm while shaking him just enough to wake him, but not enough to bother him. Though, even if she was shaking him so hard that the chair was rocking, he wouldn't mind… it was her doing it!
"Mr. Snape? Please wake up," she was whispering in his ear, in that beautiful British voice of hers.
'Se soltanto lei ha parlato italiano… ora CHE è paradiso!' Timothy thought, moving his body into a different position in the chair and sighing, but not opening his eyes. (If only she spoke Italian… now THAT would be paradise!) He heard her move so that her hands were resting on the arm of the chair, right next to his head. He could feel her eyes searching him over, but… in a soft, gentle way, like she was admiring him. He felt his own face start to blush, the heat of creeping along his skin to cover all of his cheeks.
"Mr. Snape? Do you think I'm beautiful?" her voice was very quiet now. The blush was getting redder… but, he didn't want to show her that he was awake since she obviously didn't think he was.
"Because I've never had a boyfriend… all the boys at school say that I'm fat and ugly… do you think I am?"
'Grasso? Pensano che lei è grassa? Ma la curva sono cosi bello! Lei non è grassa con grande tumido pieghe di adipe dappertutto… giusto… ricurva! Ella è ricurva e molto bella! Come bidone quegli stupido britannico babbeo buttare via tale una creatura bella come Margery!' (Fat? They think she's fat? But her curves are so beautiful! She isn't fat with big bulging folds of fat everywhere… just… curvy! She's curvy and quiet beautiful! How could those stupid, idiotic British boys just throw away such a beautiful creature such as Margery!)
"I didn't think that you'd answer… you're just like all the others!" She yelled at him. Now, it was obvious that she had known that he was awake and actually had expected an answer. She stood up and ran out of the open doorway. Timothy opened his eyes and jumped out of the chair, racing to the door way and sticking his head out into the hallway. He heard her crying as she ran up the stairs to her room where she quickly pulled open the door and slammed it shut. Timothy sighed, closing his eyes and leaning against the open door. Women! They just couldn't take anything, now could they?
"Timothy!" He heard Mr. Giovanni's voice again and his eyes snapped open.
"Yes, Sir?" Timothy asked hurriedly, remembering to speak in English.
"What did you do to her? She ran out of that room in tears! Did you try to make a move on her? Did you listen to your father? He said that you shouldn't try anything unless we tell you to!" Mr. Giovanni was screaming at Timothy with his woman-ish voice and Timothy was wishing he could sink into the door, the wall, the floor, anything! "Weren't you listening? God, you can be so foolish, Timothy." Mr. Giovanni's hand met with Timothy's skin, slapping him. But, Timothy just let it happen, not getting angry, just letting Mr. Giovanni rant and rave his heart out.
"Gabriel…" A dark hair man called to Mr. Giovanni as he walked through the hallway. He was taller than Mr. Giovanni and Timothy, with sharp features and slightly hooked nose.
"Eros, I shall give you the advice to explain the rules to your son more thoroughly than you did before you came, seeing as he isn't listening to what I have to say!" Gabriel Giovanni said, sneering at Timothy with his pointy little nose. Eros Snape bowed his head.
"I am deeply sorry, Gabriel, for this inconvenience."
"Eros," Gabriel said, in a much kinder voice than he had been using. "It's not your fault for your son's handicap of English. You tried and that is what matters, my friend." Gabriel patted Eros's arm and made his way down the hall and up the stairs. Eros watched the man go and, when he was sure he was out of sight, turned back to Timothy, slapping him sharply across the cheek. Timothy let out a small gasp, his hand flying up to his cheek on its own accord. Eros yanked Timothy's hand away from his face and slapped him again. The force of the second slap was harder than the first. Timothy lost his balance and fell and as he lay on his side, tears gently choked themselves from his eyes.
"You disgust me!" his father spat at him and walked away. Timothy just lied there, whimpering and crying, his sobs echoing throughout the house. After a while, Timothy stopped opening his eyes back up after he blinked and kept them closed, but the tears kept coming.
"Timothy?" he heard her voice calling his name. He opened his eyes and saw Margery standing in the hallway, sorrow obvious in her features but, it wasn't sorrow for herself but for him. "What happened? What's wrong?" She walked over to him and knelt down, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"N-nothing is wrong… I… I just…" Timothy sobbed, sitting up. He swallowed a few times and got his breathing under control. "I apologize; you should not have to see me in the state I am in at the moment."
"You shouldn't be ashamed to cry, it's natural for humans to cry!" Margery insisted. Timothy just shook his head.
"I am a man, I am a grown man; I should not cry over meaningless events." He growled out as he stood up. Margery got up as well.
"Please, Timothy, come with me; let me clean you up." She pleaded. Timothy looked at her with longing, but tried to quickly hide it by turning his head, his cheeks turning red.
"You may," he said quietly after clearing his throat. She gently took his hand and led him up the stairs to her room. Margery let go of Timothy's hand and closed the door.
"Wait here," she said and went off to another room within her own.
'Deve essere la stanza da bagno…' Timothy thought to himself. (It must be the bathroom…) He looked around the room. It was clean, white, pure, innocent… 'Come un vergine…' he thought. (Like a virgin…) The walls were covered in white wallpaper that had patterns of little white doves on them. Her bedding was white, the curtains which were floating in the breeze from the open window were white; her desk, her dresser, the doors of her closet, the wooden floor underfoot… all of it was white.
'Sta lei andando stare devastato quando sposiamo… Odio bianco!' he thought. (She is going to be devastated when we are married… I hate white!)
Margery quickly walked back into to the bedroom carrying some damp cloths.
"Lie down on the bed." She told him, nodding her head towards her neatly made bed. Timothy did as he was told. Margery sat next to him and placed the cold, damp cloths on his forehead. Timothy sighed and closed his eyes. Her finger gently stroked his cheek.
'Dio… lei dita sono cosi morbido e preciso… penso che io essere duro!' Timothy thought, gingerly biting his lower lip, feeling heat fill his cheeks. (God… her fingers are so soft and precise… I think I'm getting hard!)
"Tutte le nuvole galleggiano da e vede che loro piangono il suo nome, fuori forte, le notizie affluire e le stelle scintilleranno nella tuo finestra. Sentire me; la mia luce brillante per voi solo, mio amore. Tuo voce risa su un sussurrare di vento silenziosi. Intorno la luce di tempo è dopo tutte le mare la caduta per lei. Ma, o! Nella distanza ci è leggero caduta per te mio amore, io amore voi molto ma non come. Voi amore me adesso andare a dormire e cadere profondamente in le pieghe di sogni… di notte…" Margery's sweet voice sang in pure and perfect Italian. (All the clouds float by and see them cry your name out loud, the tidings flow and stars will glow into your window. Hear me; my light is shining for you alone, my dear. Your voice is laughter upon a whisper of silent winds. Around the light of time is after all the tidings fall for you... But, oh! Into the distance there is light, find it calling. My love, I love you dearly, but not as nearly as you love me… Now go to sleep and fall deeply into the folds of dreams… of night…)
"I did not know that you knew Italian…" Timothy said, opening his eyes.
"I don't," Margery answered, her eyes not looking at Timothy, but at her bedroom walls instead. "That was a lullaby my mother would sing to me when I was little. I memorized it… that's all. I mean, I know what the lullaby is in English… It's just that I know it in Italian too because that's how I learned it." Margery blushed and turned her head away.
"Do not be embarrassed… there is no need to be over not knowing a language. Well… there is no need to be embarrassed over not knowing a language that you are not learning," Timothy said, sitting up, taking the cloths off of his forehead and putting them on Margery's desk.
"What do you mean by that?" Margery asked, turning her head back towards Timothy.
"You see, you are not trying to learn Italian, so, you should not be ashamed to not be able to know the language very well. But, on the other hand, I am trying to learn English. And, I can speak it somewhat fluently. Though, I mess up every once and a while. That is something I can be ashamed of, especially since I have been learning English since I was thirteen. Fifteen years I have been learning English and I still have errors with my speaking… Speech! I still have errors with my speech!" Timothy explained.
"No one's perfect, Timothy. I grew up speaking English and there have been times I've used the incorrect word when saying something. So, you shouldn't been ashamed to mess up your words when you're speaking a language that you've been learning for fifteen years. Because there's always room to grow and learn more!"
"I suppose you have a point." Timothy started. "But, I am not just ashamed about not being able to speak English. I am ashamed because I am twenty-eight, I am living with my parents, I still get slapped by my father, I cry when I get slapped, I do not have any children, I do not have a wife, and I do not have a job or a career! I am a disgrace to my family!"
Margery looked at him sadly, not knowing what to say in return.
"I am sorry," Timothy said, hanging his head. "I should not rant about my problems to you."
"Well… you need someone to talk to, don't you?"
"I suppose…"
"In my opinion, you speak very good English…"
"I tend to have errors in my English when I am nervous. I am a very nervous man."
"Um… can you say that in Italian?" Margery asked, turning her head away, not wanting Timothy to see her blushing.
"What?" he asked, confused by what she meant. Her blush deepened, "Can you say, 'I am a very nervous man.' in Italian? I'd like to hear what it sounds like… please?"
"Sono un uomo molto nervoso…"
"Say, 'please' in Italian…" Margery asked, her eyes closed.
"Per favore…" Timothy said, sultrily.
"'More,'… say 'more'…" her breathe was getting heavier.
"Più," Timothy whispered as he stood up from the British girl's bed. He picked Margery up like a groom would his bride. She gasped a little and looked at him. Timothy gave the young woman a seductive look and placed her on the bed, face up. He climbed on top of her and cupped her face with his hands. They slowly made their way down her neck and chest until resting upon her full breasts. He caressed Margery's breasts gently, not squeezing or pinching them, just rotating his hands around them. He wanted to suckle on them so badly. The thought of himself, Timothy, feeding off of Margery's breasts like a child made his manhood awaken and harden slightly. A low moan escaped his lips. Margery placed her arms around Timothy's neck and slowing brought the older man's nose to rest in her cleavage. He snuggled his face in her breasts; their warmth making a blush creep onto his cheeks. He moaned again and moved his hips to grind against Margery's.
"Per favore… Ho bisogno tu…" Timothy's muffled words rose up from Margery's breasts. (Please… I need you…) Her breathing was getting heavier and her heart beat quickened. "Timothy… I-I want you… please, Timothy… please make love to me…" Margery choked out, moaning at the feeling of Timothy grinding his hips against her own. The Italian man took his head out of the girl's breasts and looked in her eyes. Without saying anything, he began to undress her. He slowly unbuttoned her blouse and removed her arms from it so that she was laying on it. Timothy moved down to the girl's skirt which he pulled off quickly. Then, he removed her shoes, but left her knee socks on. He sat up and looked at her in her small white bra, her white satin panties and her black knee socks. Margery blushed and looked away.
"I want you…" she whispered, closing her eyes. "I give you my body as yours to have. Do what you want to me…"
Timothy did as he was told.
ﺞ
Covered in sweat, Margery laid upon Timothy in her own bed, holding onto his shoulders as he stroked her hair. They both were trying to make their breathing go back to normal after they had made love. Timothy looked up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The events between getting slapped by his father to lying naked with his fiancée in her bed were just a jumble of love and other emotions to Timothy. But… he didn't care. He finally had what he wanted: Margery.
"Timothy?" Margery asked, removing her head from Timothy's damp chest and looking at the man beneath her in the eyes.
"Yes?" was his reply as he raised his left eyebrow.
"Do you think… that what we did… was right?" Margery was blushing, but did not remove her eyes from his.
"Of course," Timothy answered, placing his hand on the back of Margery's head and made her place her cheek back on his chest.
"Timothy?" Margery asked again.
"Yes?" He repeated.
"Do you love me?" She asked him with a very small whisper.
"Yes… I do…" Timothy answered after thinking for a moment. He placed his arms around her, hugging her. "I love you…"
"I love you, too…" Margery replied and fell asleep within his loving embrace.
ﺞ
"What are you two doing?" The feminine voice of Gabriel Giovanni wound its way into both Timothy's and Margery's dreams. Margery, waking up quicker than her lover, sat up, grabbed the sheets so that they covered her breasts and turned around to face her father.
"Father! We're… just… we're… er… we're…" she was trying to find something that could explain why she was naked in bed with Timothy. "Well… you see… I… he… we… er…" She started to cry… pitifully. She clutched onto the sheet she held and wept into it for the fear of being hurt by her father for having sex. Timothy's eyes opened to the sound of his lover's tears. He pushed himself up, looking around and, taking in his surroundings, he understood what was going on. He looked over at Margery and wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her head to his chest, he held her close while stroking her soft red hair. And only loud enough for her to hear, he whispered in her ear sweet things of how much he loved her and how he was there to protect her so she had no reason to cry. She kept whimpering while she clung to the sheet. Timothy held her tighter, not wanting to let go. He looked up to the sound of a throat being cleared and saw both Margery's father and his own in the doorway. Margery's father looked furious and Timothy's father looked annoying but much calmer than his friend. Mr. Giovanni opened his mouth to speak, or more likely to shout, but Eros Snape placed his hand on the man's shoulder, stopping him.
"You two, put some clothes on and come down to the study when you are presentable." Timothy's father said and then closed the door, leaving the Italian man and the British girl alone. Timothy sighed and let go of Margery, who was still sobbing like crazy. He lay back down and closed his eyes, sighing again. Suddenly, he sat up, pushed the sheets off of his body and stood up.
"Margery, stop crying." Timothy said, harshly to his lover. "Hurry up and get dressed." He picked up his clothes which had been thrown around the room. Margery calmed down and quietly watched Timothy dress. She watched as he put on his black silk waist coat and expertly tied his thin black tie. She watched him as he pulled on his thin black socks and tied the strong, thin laces of his expensive black dress shoes. Once he was done dressing, Timothy threw a look Margery's way.
"Are you going to walk to your father's study naked like you are?" He asked. She shook her head. "Then get dressed!" Adverting her eyes from his, Margery silently got off of her bed and started to gather up her clothes. She put on her bra and panties and pulled her knee socks up. She pulled on her blouse and skirt and slipped her feet into her shoes. Shaking her head, her hair fell back into its natural place and… she was ready. The two lovers exited Margery's room and walked down three flights of steps to Mr. Giovanni's study. Knocking lightly on the oak door, Timothy announced that he and Margery had arrived. The door opened by itself to reveal Mr. Giovanni sitting in a large chair behind a huge oak desk with Mr. Snape standing at his side.
"You may enter," Mr. Giovanni said. Timothy walked in with Margery waddling in behind him and he closed the door behind her. Margery stood about two feet away from the front of her father's desk, staring at her feet. Timothy stood next to her, also staring at the ground.
"Now…" Mr. Giovanni started. "Would you please explain what I saw when I entered my daughter's room, Timothy?"
"I…" Timothy started, looking away from the two fathers, not totally knowing what he should say. He decided an apology was needed so… he tried to make one, being careful to speak in perfect English. "I… First, I apologize for not listening to you and… for not… obeying your… commands. I should not have let my own lust control me. I should be able to suppress my own want and be in control of my emotions. What I did with this woman at this time is unacceptable and dishonorable. I am sorry." Mr. Giovanni had a look of complete boredom when Timothy finished.
"You still haven't answered my question, boy," The British man sneered.
"I…" Timothy started. He had to think of a good explanation. He knew he couldn't lie about what happened, so… he decided that telling the truth was the best route. "When you entered Margery's room, you encountered Margery and me in her bed." Yes, it wasn't the whole truth but it was still true.
"Yes, I know that. What were the two of you doing in Margery's bed?" A vein throbbed on Mr. Giovanni's temple, he was getting ticked.
"We… we were
resting," Timothy said, giving another answer that didn't
exactly tell the whole truth.
"And… why were you resting?"
Mr. Giovanni was getting even angrier. Timothy sighed and moved his
head up, looking straight into Mr. Giovanni's squinty eyes.
"Margery and I were resting… because we… had just made love to each other." After making his statement, Timothy lowered his gaze again. Taking a glimpse at Margery, he saw that her face was very red, almost as red as her hair. Timothy reached out slowly and took hold of one of Margery's hands. Surprised, she looked over at him and he smiled sweetly as if saying that everything was going to be alright. The lovers little moment of happiness was broken by a sigh from Mr. Giovanni.
"What's done is done, I suppose…" He sighed again massaging his temples with his fingertips as if he had a migraine. "We shall have the two of you marry straight away so that if Margery is pregnant, everyone will think that she got pregnant on her wedding night instead of before. You two may go now…"
"Yes, sir," Timothy said, bowing low. After finishing his bow, Timothy pulled Margery out of her father's study, closed the door quietly behind the two of them and embraced Margery with all his might.
"Timothy…" She sighed, lovingly, hugging him back. "I love you,"
"And I love you," He whispered in reply, never once in doubt. The couple stood there, their grip around each other so tight that a coin wouldn't have fit between them. Margery lifted her head up and looked Timothy in the eyes. Timothy started to lower his head as his lover lifted hers more and their lips were closing in on each other and… a train whistle interrupted them.
Timothy's eyes sprang open at the sound of the train whistle and he sat up. He had fallen asleep on the train ride to his son's house and had just been woken up from his wonderful dream/memory of when he lost his virginity. Looking around, he noticed that many of the people who had been on the train before were now off and only two were remaining of the previous six which had been in the same car as him. The train was slowing down and Timothy asked the nearest person what stop they were at. They answered Arncott.
After getting off the train and walking all the way to his son's house, it was night and Timothy Snape was tired. He clunked his way up the stairs and didn't bother knocking on the door. Instead, he invited himself into the house and exited the main door room into the stairway chamber. He was glad that his son hadn't changed the inner things too much, the stairs and halls were still made of the same substance, had the same texture and the same color as they did from when he, timothy, had first made them and set them into place in this large house. Sighing, Timothy Snape trudged down the staircase and onto the third floor where he knew the dining room that his son's family ate in every night was located. Gingerly opening the door, Timothy stepped into the loud room. No one noticed him so he stood at the door observing quietly. Severus was politely listening to Clarissa rant about how her day went, Neil and Heather were trying to be sexy while eating their dinner of pasta, Alexander and Deuteronomy were quietly eating but also kept flicking bits of mushroom at Rafale's head, Rafale would sit up straight every time he felt one of the mushrooms hit him and he'd look around but he'd see the twins quietly eating and looking at the walls, Timothy also saw his other son Robert feeding his youngest daughter while Severina sat next to him silently sitting behind her curtain of black silky hair with her plate empty. But, Timothy spotted three teenagers he had never actually seen in person before. They were talking and laughing among themselves, not making too much noise to be a nuisance but Timothy thought that he knew those teenagers. Well… the girl with the brown hair didn't seem familiar at all but the boy with the red hair, on the other hand, looked a bit like Arthur Weasley who had been a student at Hogwarts at the same time as Lucius Malfoy and Timothy had heard a great deal about the muggle lover from the pureblood.
'Weasley's…" Timothy shuddered at the thought. Not only were Weasley's muggle lovers but they were pureblood muggle lovers! There was nothing more degrading to the title of pureblood than to pair it with muggle lover. But, obviously, this teenager was not Arthur Weasley because, first of all, Arthur Weasley had to at least be in his mid-forty's, probably older, but secondly because if it was Arthur Weasley, he had to have taken a de-aging potion which are extremely rare and are one of the most difficult potions to create but Mr. Weasley didn't seem the type who had the ability to create a de-aging potion. Actually, there weren't very many people who had that ability in the first place. Anyway, Timothy also recognized the boy sitting next to the Weasley-look-alike. This other boy had rugged black hair and wore glasses.
'A Potter…' Timothy thought the name with disgust. Potters weren't exactly muggle lovers like Weasley's but… they were muggle befrienders which is just as unhonorable. Timothy had heard of James Potter from his son and was surprised to see the resemblance this boy had to the tormenter of Severus. The messy black hair, the glasses, the charming personality, the look of glory and popularity… everything was perfect except the eyes. The eyes were different. They were bright green while James Potter's eyes were hazel as far as Timothy could remember from what he'd heard from Severus's rants about the boy… so… this boy must be…
'Harry Potter,' Timothy grinned and started to walk over to the three teenagers. He gently placed his hand on Potter's shoulder. The boy jerked his head up to look at the man touching him. The two other teenagers looked as well.
"Harry Potter… we meet at last…" Timothy gave a mysterious smile. "I've heard so much about you, yet I've never actually met you in person. I suppose some would call this an honor but… I on the other hand…" He let his sentence hang and instead bore his eyes into Potter's. Timothy stayed like that with the young bewildered boy beneath him for quite some time before Alexander noticed him and jumped up after flicking another mushroom at Rafale's head.
"Grandfather!" The young boy screamed and pounced on Timothy. Deuteronomy looked up as he heard his twin scream out and joined him at hugging his grandfather.
"Boys, boys… you don't have to hold on that tight." Timothy said, trying to pry the twins off but smiling gently at the same time.
"But we haven't seen you in YEARS!" Alexander complained without letting go.
"Yes, I know," Timothy answered giving the two boys a small hug back.
"Father," Severus had stood up from his chair and was walking over to Timothy. The twins let go of their grandfather and he walked towards his son. They stopped in front of each other and eyed the other up.
"They look exactly the same…" Hermione whispered to Ron.
"I know…"
After the awkward silence between father and son, Timothy and Severus gave each other an awkward hug. Neil hugged his grandfather after his own father. In the commotion of everyone greeting Timothy, a figure entered the dinning room from the kitchen and led another person out with them.
"SEXINESS!" The person yelled and hopped onto the table. Everyone in the dinning room turned to look at the man. He was tall with long, sexy blonde hair and a gorgeous smile with dazzling white teeth. The man was slim with a slight build and he didn't have a shirt on. But, he was wearing extremely tight black leather pants and the straps of a pink thong were visible around his hips. He wasn't wearing any shoes so his neon green toenails were easy to see. He also had a tattoo on his lower back, right above his big sexy ass. And, for some unknown reason, he was holding a broom.
"Yo, rat boy!" The man said in a sexy voice and used the broom to point to Severus. "The smexy manwhore has arrived!" He punched the air with the fit holding the broom and everyone saw his perfectly smooth armpits.
"Torrell, get off of the table before you fall into the food." Severus grumbled at his brother.
"Like I'd fall into the food!" Torrell laughed and hopped off the table. He grabbed the sleeve of the shirt of the man who had come out of the kitchen with him. "Btw, this is Fairy Boy. We're gonna fuck tonight!" He punched the air with the broom again. "So… where's my room?"
"The empty master bedroom on the sixth floor." Severus answered.
"Alright, thanks!" Torrell blew a kiss to his brother and ran out of the room, dragging Fairy Boy behind him.
After dinner, while everyone was in bed, the only sound that could be heard was the creaking of the bed from the second master bedroom on the sixth floor along with moans of pleasure and screams of, "Fuck me harder, goddammit!"
No one slept well that night.
In the morning, Severus went to check on his brother and found him sleeping peacefully, half beneath the heavy covers of the bed. He was alone. Severus pulled the covers over his brother's body and gave him a small kiss on his forehead.
"Master…" he heard his brother murmur as he shifted position in the bed. Severus knew exactly who the manwhore was talking about. And, sighing, he left the room, turning around before closing the door. His last sight of the room his brother was sleeping in was of the untouched broomstick lying on the floor.
IT IS FINISHED! YES YES YES YES YES YES YES
There are a LOT of jokes in this one… At least… at the end there are.
Thanks to Michelle for giving me the name of Torrell's fuck buddy and I dedicate the broomstick to her as well! I LOVE YOU MICHELLE!