A/N: Hello my lovely readers, and welcome back! A huuuge Thank You to all of you for your many kind reviews, each and everyone of them was very much appreciated. My gratitude further goes to TheJackieMo for pointing out a rather obvious plot hole (funny how one can create them within one single chapter, right?), and to tinkdst2 for supporting that find. I fixed it in the second paragraph of this chapter, hopefully to your satisfaction. :)
And congrats to CrystalViolet for guessing correctly who the mystery guest is.
I'm excited to read your reactions to this chapter, and to the revelation of that mystery guest. If you'll be so kind and have a minute to spare, please pop me a review - I do so love hearing your thoughts!
Love you all,
Marcella xxx
"Severus," she heard a familiar voice greet her professor. "Am I interrupting something?"
Sunday, February 1st, 1996
"Lucius," Severus acknowledged the presence of who had once been his friend, "what a… surprise."
Inwardly, Severus cursed himself for his negligence. There had been a reason, after all, that he had asked a house elf to block his Floo on Christmas, after he had come back from the girl's bed in London. Lucius was used to one of his elven servants commandeering his Floo travel for him. Much as a muggle boss would have a secretary dial up his calls, so would Lucius turn to a house elf to connect his own fireplace to that of the person he was visiting. That had the benefit of the house elf being indirectly tasked with creating that connection should anything block the travel – like Severus's wards that prevented people from entering his private quarters uninvited. Another house elf's magic could successfully block his fireplace to other elven magic, but his personal wards couldn't.
Severus had felt the wards come down, but the thirty seconds in between that feeling and Lucius's arrival had not been enough to react in any way, so he'd just kept doing what he'd been doing – which, incidentally, had been the girl –, hoping to appear casual.
Lucius cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, the reprimand in his following question obvious to any Slytherin.
"A pleasant one, I'm sure?" he queried.
Severus smirked, and the sight was nothing Lucius would be envied for.
"I am already quite pleased," Severus asserted with the hint of a nod towards the girl who was lying under him on his private desk, with him still pounding into her young, tight body. "Quite pleased, in fact. I simply could not say if your presence heightened that pleasure."
Lucius's face now mirrored his smirk, though the expression turned out much prettier than his own.
"And what is it, exactly, that you're doing, Severus," Lucius asked, "to cause you such pleasure?"
Severus wanted to hit the man over the head, preferably with something hard and dull – or not so dull – for asking him to spell out his excuse for having the girl naked and willing on his desk. Why did he need to explain himself? One should think that Lucius would approve of the Head of House Slytherin taking advantage of a young Gryffindor student of less desirable blood, in their mindset.
"I am supervising Miss Granger's detention," Severus replied smoothly, never once faltering in his rhythmic thrusts into the girl.
"Ah, yes," Lucius sighed, the extended S-sound sending tiny cold shivers up and down Severus's spine, "you have always taken great pleasure in your detentions, my friend."
Severus was well aware that one small inquiry with his son would alert Lucius to the fact that the girl had not been assigned any detention with the Potions Master (at least not publically and when did Severus ever dole out detention other than publically?), but he worried little about that. After all, Lucius had not been asking for facts but for a cover story, firm in the knowledge that any excuse brought up by a fellow Slytherin would be a fanciful fib at best and an outright lie at worst.
Looking down at the girl on the desk, her body shaking with the powerful thrusts Severus was delivering, he nudged at her mental barriers. To his surprise, he found them firmly in place.
Most other people would lose their concentration when in fear, bringing their own Occlumency shields crashing down in dangerous situations. The girl, however, outright bloomed in her frightened state. Her mind was in a complete shutdown. Search as he might, Severus was unable to find even the slightest nook or cranny that he might exploit to force his way into her mind. Her fortifications were smoother than her skin, and allowed no entrance. Of course, brute force would have him inside her mind, if he wanted. But the amount of Legilimentic power necessary for such a breach was considerable, and certainly above Lucius's skill level as a Mind Mage. For the moment, the girl was safe.
Severus had never been more attracted to her.
That the girl was an unpredictable beauty in her fury, Severus knew already. Too often had her firm stance on some topic of disagreement or other aroused him. Never before had he been filled with such an intense feeling of pride, however, and certainly not with pride of the girl. The emotion was an aphrodisiac the likes of which he hadn't experienced before. If his pounding had been fierce earlier, Severus did not know how to describe the frantic pace at which he drove himself into her now, his lust renewed.
Turning his gaze back to Lucius, Severus questioned, "What brings me the pleasure of your surprise visit, Lucius?"
Lucius, Severus saw, had followed his earlier glance at the girl, and the blond wizard's eyes were still fixed on Severus's student. The Potions Master found that he did not like that fact in the least.
"It seems to me," Lucius noted, "that your pleasure lies firmly in the hands of Miss Granger, at the moment. Or rather," he paused for effect, "perhaps not in her hands, exactly."
The girl's eyes shot from Lucius to Severus, back to Lucius, then finally settling on Severus. Her expression showed fear, uncertainty, and a distinct note of pleading, he noted. Whether she was pleading for a way out or for a way through, Severus did not know. With her mind firmly shut to all outward intrusions, he had no way of silently communicating with the girl. He simply hoped she would follow his lead.
"I merely came to offer you a glass of 1789 Odgen's Finest," Lucius explained. "The company my wife is currently keeping at the Manor makes for a less than desirable choice in drinking companions. I would not dare bring out the good firewhiskey with those current guests. Merlin knows they would not stop at one glass."
Their conversation, stilted as it was, halted for a moment. They both watched the girl as she writhed underneath Severus's steady rhythm. How he managed to maintain his erection, Severus could not consciously explain. Perhaps the girl's wiles had him so firmly entrapped that even his comrade's unwelcome intrusion, nor his casual mention of the escaped Death Eaters residing in his home, could not put a stop to his lust.
"Although I must admit," Lucius continued after a while of listening to the girl's soft mewls and moans, "being the first to make an offer of sharing is bad form in a proper guest. I should have allowed you as the welcoming host to offer me something first. I would like to make up for that now. Please, Severus, what do you have on offer to make me feel your benevolent reception of my visit? Perhaps a share in your current source of pleasure?"
Severus found that he needed to forcefully quell the fierce growl that was crawling its way up his throat, from deep inside Morgana knew where. His possessiveness had always been a prominent trait of his, but that it would endanger his relationship with the Malfoy patriarch by showing its ugly head now, in this particular instance, was foreign to him. Usually his instincts kept each other in check. His sense of ownership of the girl overriding his sense of duty to the Light and his strong sense of survival in his role as a double agent, was unsettling, to say the least.
"I was unaware of your qualifications that make you fit to supervise a Hogwarts student's detention, I must say, Lucius," Severus replied as smoothly as he could – faultlessly, that was. "You will understand that I would rather not put the precious education – including punishment, of course – of any student in my care at any risk. As a concerned parent, I am sure you approve, my friend."
"Of course," Lucius echoed, his smirk growing ever wider. "Would you rather I have the caretaker fetched to assist you in your arduous task of supervision? That way you would be free to share that glass of Odgen's Finest with me I came to offer you."
Hermione had done her best to remain calm and collected in the face of this shocking development. Clenching down on her fear and panic with a firm grip, she thought she had delivered an admirable act in appearing appropriately unfazed by being caught in flagrante delicto with her Potions teacher, by the father of her worst school nemesis, and a known Death Eater, no less.
What Hermione could not help, however, was the shudder that wracked her whole body at the mention of Mr Filch.
"You see, Severus," Mr Malfoy jumped at the window of opportunity Hermione's obvious display of disgust had opened for him, "even Miss Granger would agree that my education is preferable to the caretaker's methods – wouldn't you, Miss Granger?"
Coherent thought had been difficult for the past couple of hours now for Hermione, considering the amounts of pleasure the professor was bestowing upon her. A few minutes ago, his attentions had renewed, and now Hermione struggled even more than before to form any kind of response that did not solely consist of lustful sounds.
"Yes," she managed to press out between two powerful thrusts.
Putting thoughts to words might have been above her skill level at the moment, but Hermione did not fail to notice Mr Malfoy's raised eyebrow at her answer, nor how he turned to the professor.
"That insolence should be worthy of another night of detention, don't you think, Severus?" he suggested.
Through the thick haze of lust surrounding her, Hermione realized that, if she were coherent, she would be shell-shocked. Things became even worse, she found, when the professor turned to address her.
"Be polite, Miss Granger," he admonished her seriously, "or I will need to dole out a more severe punishment that will not be to your liking at all."
Even though the situation was absurd – the Potions Master standing tall above her, his raging hardness pounding a fierce staccato into her heated core, criticising her manner of conduct –, Hermione knew not to doubt the sincerity behind his threat.
Looking up at Mr Malfoy was no small feat, with her head hanging over the edge of the professor's desk as it was. Somehow, she managed anyway.
"I apologize, sir," she offered. "Yes, Mr Malfoy, you are correct in assuming that I would prefer being educated by you rather than punished by Mr Filch."
Mr Malfoy stared at her for a long few seconds. The image of him was shaky, with Hermione's body still being worked by the professor, but she could practically feel the coldness of his gaze. Eventually, he turned to Professor Snape.
"I have always said that Hogwarts should introduce lessons in etiquette for students of less… formal upbringing."
Hermione swallowed the reply that almost slipped from the tip of her tongue. This was not the time nor the place to start a fight with a well-respected and especially well-off member of society like Mr Malfoy – least of all when the wizard in question was a high-ranking Death Eater and his opinion of Professor Snape and his ability to properly conduct himself among hostile territory, as the Dark must perceive Hogwarts to be, held so much importance.
So Hermione held her mouth firmly shut and her tongue in check. What she had not expected, however, was the professor coming to Mr Malfoy's aide.
"Miss Granger," he thundered, and Hermione's mind struggled to come to terms with the fact that he was still bestowing so much pleasure on her body, while wreaking havoc with her emotions, "would you care to correct yourself? This is your last chance. Do not try me."
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times but failed to come up with a reply that would leave both her and the professor in a positive light. Seeing as no proper response was forthcoming, she settled on remaining polite, even while fighting the wizards' assessment of her character.
"With all due respect, sir, Mr Malfoy," she pressed out with a huge effort at concentrating, Professor Snape's attentions still causing her a great deal of distraction, "I fail to see how my pedigree would impediment my level of politeness."
Mr Malfoy snorted at that, and Hermione envied him for his ability to make even that derisive sound appear graceful.
"Of course you do, Miss Granger," he replied smoothly, though there was a sharp edge of malice underneath the pleasant voice, "seeing as you fail to even have any kind of pedigree."
He turned to the professor.
"I know I offered to educate Miss Granger earlier," he said, "but I had not quite expected this level of ineptitude. As such, I must turn to you to teach her."
Even though Hermione had feared Mr Malfoy's presence earlier, that fear did not compare to the dread that travelled icily down her spine at the harsh look the professor gave her.
"As head of his Sacred House," he began, "it is custom to address 'Mr Malfoy', as you called him, as 'Lord'."
"Truly," Mr Malfoy offered, "I don't have any high expectations of you, Miss Granger, all things considered." He perused her as if she was dirty, and made her feel the knowledge that her blood disgusted him, while at the same time devouring her naked body with his eyes. Only now did it occur to Hermione that perhaps she should have thought at some point during their conversation to cover her nakedness. Now, of course, that was a rather moot point.
"Any variation of address will do," the silver-haired wizard continued. "Call me 'my lord', if you will, or 'Lord Malfoy', or 'Lord Governor', even – see, Severus, there is my qualification to supervise Miss Granger's detentions."
Hermione could not help the snort at that last suggestion of address. The finishing comment did not properly register with her, so amused was she by the fact that Mr Malfoy thought to title himself governor. Even the sharp pain from a particularly vicious thrust from the Potions Master could not stop her running tongue now.
"If I remember correctly, Lord Malfoy," she intoned, "you haven't been a Hogwarts school governor for a few years now. It was 1993, was it not, that you were… released from the Board? And am I right to assume that the botched case a year later did not exactly help in your resuming your duties?"
If she had thought his stare as icy before, it now turned glacial.
"A case," he replied, "that you lost, if I may remind you, Miss Granger."
Even the glacial coldness emanating from Mr Malfoy's eyes could not stop the triumphant grin from spreading over Hermione's face.
"Did I?" she asked, her voice displaying a note of curiosity, though her grin was devious. "Did I lose that one, really… my lord?"
Severus did not understand the battle that was going on between Lucius and the girl. Of course, he knew that Lucius had won the case over Buckbeak's injuring his son in front of the Wizengamot, and that the hippogriff had escaped its punishment by fleeing the day of his impending execution. What he did not understand was the girl's obvious glee at that. Was it simply her friendship with Hagrid that had her so triumphant over this doubtful success? Or was there more behind that knowing smile that he did not know… yet?
Much as he hated not knowing things, he could not hate the girl for playing Lucius with information Severus himself did not possess. How could he hate her, when her confidence, her bravado, her gall had him so entranced? First the firmness of her mental barriers in the face of a first very real threat, now this sassy cheek that the girl allowed herself with Lucius Malfoy, of all people – it was a huge turn-on for him.
Severus had not been holding back in his pounding ever since Lucius had entered his private quarters. The conversation had distracted him enough not to come yet. But now there was no stopping him. Severus let go of all constraint he might ever have possessed when it came to bedding the girl, and pounded into her like a man obsessed. It did not take him long. Her wet tightness, combined with her strength of mind and character, was too much for him to last any more. A few harsh thrusts, and he spilled himself deep inside her core for the third time this night.
Withdrawing from the girl and tucking himself away in his pants, Severus remained standing where he was, the girl's legs still securely resting on his shoulder. He looked at her for a few more seconds and, seeing that she was alright and wasn't going to complain about him climaxing without her, turned to Lucius. It appeared that the wizard had been amusedly waiting to get his full attention once more.
"I am aware that Potions is a rather practical subject, of course" the man began, "but have you ever thought about introducing oral examinations into your lesson plans? Young Miss Granger here would certainly benefit from some oral education. In fact," and here Lucius perused the girl briefly before returning his gaze to Severus, "I would most graciously offer myself as a teacher, to begin her education right now."
Severus did not say anything, electing to wait his comrade out, for he knew that there would be more.
"As a matter of fact, I am a well-practiced instructor, having taught quite the number of young ladies in the arts of proper oral conduct around my person. But you knew that already, didn't you, Severus?"
Lucius's proclivity for pureblood, high-born virgins aside, he had been known as a genius at sweet-talking himself into young ladies' mouths, at the most opportune or inopportune of times. Abraxas Malfoy, or so Severus had heard, had supported that ability, merely cautioning Lucius to only ever have those witches open their hearts and mouths to him whose husbands or fathers he was able to outduel, should it come to that.
Assessing his situation, Severus found himself in a dilemma. He had to desire, nor the intention to ever share the girl with anyone, least of all with Lucius Malfoy. After all, had he not sworn, albeit silently, never to allow this particular wizard to lay a finger on her?
Then again, there were far bigger things at stake here. A Death Eater would never refuse a fellow Death Eater their share in a lowly mudblood, and certainly such a request would never be refused coming from the Dark Lord's current host. Severus knew that his cover needed to be protected at all costs – even if it cost him the girl; the only thing Severus had hoped only ever to have for himself, and himself alone.
"Go ahead," Severus nonchalantly offered, gesturing to the girl who was stock-still on the table, her gaze flicking from one wizard to the other and back, as if following an especially exciting Quidditch match. "Just take care," he amended, "not to damage her too much."
"Me?" Lucius asked with an air of surprise, though a devious smile played around his lips. "Damage a lovely girl like Miss Granger here?"
"I am aware that you take giving instructions very seriously," Severus continued as if his friend had never spoken, "as I know you to be a zealous teacher. Simply remember that Miss Granger likes to take her mouth rather full at times, so the task will fall to you to take care not to choke her."
"Don't worry, Severus," Lucius promised, "I will be careful not to damage your toy… too badly. If nothing else, I know how to muffle protests."
"The girl has some bite in her, Lucius," Severus cautioned further, bargaining for the girl's safety in as unsuspicious a manner as he could. "She will not easily be muffled, and she tends to bite off more than she can swallow, but bite off she will."
"Well then," the other wizard surmised, "I will simply need to train that habit out of her, won't I?"
Severus followed Lucius's gaze who was once more perusing the girl. Her eyes, Severus found, were trained solely on his own. She had been strangely silent through this bargaining act. So silent, in fact, that Severus began to wonder whether the girl might not be about to bail.
Nudging her mental barriers again, he found them to be standing very firmly still. This time, instead of shutting herself completely off of her surroundings, the girl sent a slight nudge back. It was almost intangible, so timid was the response she gave his reaching out, but from the impression of her nudge resonated a reassuring conviction that calmed Severus's racing heart. Knowing that she was aware of the dangerous game they were playing put at least some of his worries to rest. The girl was not going to give up her professor's cover, he knew, and would be supporting him by submitting to his wishes – meaning, she would be submitting to Lucius Malfoy.
For a moment, Severus's insecurities came rushing back with ferocious force: what if the girl was actually revelling in Lucius's attentions? Did she prefer the wealthy, handsome, established wizard over him, Severus? Wasn't she in all actuality glad that she was being handed over to his comrade?
Then rationality returned, and banished all those horrendous thoughts. The look of terrified shock and panicked fear that Severus had noticed on the girl's face when she first realized just who it was who had disturbed them, had spoken volumes about her feelings. The girl might be improving at Occlumency, but she was still very much a Gryffindor, and wore her emotions on her sleeve most of the time. The chance of her desiring Lucius Malfoy over her Potions professor was about as high as the probability that Severus would be teaching his NEWT course in a Hawaii shirt.
Lucius still hadn't moved an inch, apparently waiting for something to happen before he approached the girl, though what that might be, Severus did not know.
"Tell me, Severus," Lucius said, and Severus realized that the price for continuing with this horrid night was an answer to a question he would have no desire answering, "why did you do that?"
"What exactly is it that you're asking my reasons for doing, Lucius?"
"Spilling yourself inside Miss Granger," the wizard elaborated, "and then not Vanishing all trace of yourself from her."
Severus smiled darkly. There was no way that he would be telling Lucius his real reasons for that – that the girl was more likely to get pregnant with his child if she only held his seed long enough inside of her, preferably with her legs up in the air as they were now. A more satisfying answer (and one that wasn't likely to get either of them killed or, at the very least, get the girl gutted) would have to be devised.
"She hates it," Severus supplied. "Miss Granger will yield to my cock willingly enough, knowing the pleasures it can give her – and to be honest, she often likes it rough, which serves me only too well. But to have me defile her, befouling her with my seed… that she deplores. You should have seen her earlier. It was all I could do to mangle the wand from her eager fingers before she could clean herself up."
Lucius grinned at that.
"I understand your need for leaving an imprint, a memory for Miss Granger to take to her own bed," he said. "But don't you worry that she might carry some half-blood spawn of yours? That she might bring subpar life into our world?"
Severus chuckled emptily, though to Lucius it would have appeared dark. The girl's eyes were wide. Surely she now understood that Severus was bargaining for the security of her internal organs here.
"I am a Potions Master," Severus stated, as if that was answer enough, and really, it should be, but he offered more – just to be on the safe side. "Do you think I would allow my seed anywhere near Miss Granger if she was in danger of contracting a brat?"
Lucius seemed to relax at that, and strangely enough, so did the girl. It was true, Severus supposed, that they had never really talked about the chance of her getting pregnant. It had served him well, he knew, not needing to explain his real demand of her. Then again, if the girl had been sleeping around on him during the holidays, shouldn't he be worried about the lack of her concerns for the matter of motherhood?
"Now, would you like to set Miss Granger up for her lesson with you?"
Lucius grinned, and the expression unsettled Severus even more than he'd already been unsettled.
"Yes, Severus," his friend agreed, "I believe I would like that, indeed. Although Miss Granger's current position has plenty of merit, I do think she might benefit from a lesson in submission to go with her oral training. Wouldn't you agree?"
Severus simply nodded, agreeing to Lucius's demand to have the girl kneeling before him, and slowly let the girl's legs slide down his from his shoulder, setting them down so they hang over the edge of his desk. Offering her a hand, he helped her sit up, then hop off the desk and stand.
Only, standing appeared to be a problem, as the girl tumbled straight into his person.
The night had progressed at a rapid pace. Hours of the professor pleasuring her, either with his wickedly talented fingers or with his raging hard cock, had gone by in a heartbeat. It must have been well past midnight, though, when he helped her onto his desk, and even more time had passed since then. Hermione estimated the current time to be at early Sunday morning, so curfew would be over soonish. It would be better if she was back in bed by then, though, rather than be caught traversing the castle from the dungeons back to her tower dorm room.
She had never felt as invigorated as she did under the professor's powerful attentions, and even though her lust had toned down to zero the moment she recognized Lucius Malfoy as the one intruding upon them, her adrenaline levels had gone right up, keeping her excited and, most of all, awake.
Now that the professor had helped her up from the desk, though, all the blood that had been pooling in her head earlier was given the opportunity to rush downwards into her legs, and rush it did. The combination of the blood loss in her head and the sudden influx of blood circulation in her legs did her in. Her legs suddenly felt as if Hermione was standing in a hill of fire ants, and they gave out underneath her body. Her head didn't fare much better, as her vision blurred and her sense of orientation failed to help her differentiate between up and down.
When she found herself falling into a body, her subconscious telling her that it must be the professor, she held on for dear life, afraid of embarrassing herself even more in front of Mr Malfoy by tumbling to the ground. And there they stood, in an awkward embrace that had Hermione clutching the professor's robes around his waist while he was holding her shoulders as if that would keep her upright now.
It occurred to Hermione that this might be the most intimate physical connection they had ever shared outside of sex.
Of course, their awkward non-embrace was over as soon as it had begun. The professor held her at arm's length to see if she was able to stand by herself, and released his hold on her the moment he was assured that she wouldn't topple over.
With the blood gone from her head, Hermione felt inexplicably sleepy all of a sudden. Her eyes drooped and even though she had regained her step, remaining upright became harder and harder to do.
When a huge yawn tore its way out of her tired body, the professor turned to Lucius.
"Much as Miss Granger is a usually eager student, it appears that after her rather exhausting detention, she won't be very receptive towards your teachings tonight, Lucius."
"It would appear so," Mr Malfoy agreed, "although that has never kept me from taking on a student before."
"By all means, proceed as you see fit," the professor said, gesturing vaguely towards Hermione's tired form, now shaking slightly in the coldness of the room, naked as she was, "but don't go complaining on me when her tiredness makes her jaw go slack on you, trapping your wand between her teeth."
The blonde wizard shuddered at that and came to a decision.
"Very well then," he acceded. "But I will be expecting Miss Granger to be serving another detention for her insolence. Wouldn't you agree, Severus?"
The professor looked at her, and Hermione thought for a moment to detect a grain of resignation there. Enraged as he had always been at the mere implication that she might have been engaging other men, it appeared that the Potions Master was equally reluctant to share her with one of his friends.
"Of course," the professor confirmed. Turning to Hermione, he said, "Be back at my office at the same time next week, Miss Granger. And dress properly next time, as you would for any lesson. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir," Hermione meekly replied.
"Good. You are dismissed."
Hermione's mumbled 'Good night, sir, my lord' went unnoticed by either man, as the professor asked, "How about that Old Odgen's now, Lucius?"
Coming up: Chapter thirty-six, wherein gratitude is offered in a store room.