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The Eldest
Chapter Three
Severus Snape had a problem.
He was supposed to be on Dumbledore's side, quietly betraying the monster that had ruined his life by betraying him, whilst making up for inadvertently murdering his one true love. Harry Potter was supposed to be the son he never had, resenting him for this fact but always protecting him because he is, after all, Lily's son. Severus had been forced for to live with the guilt that, if it wasn't for him, there would be no Boy-Who-Lived. And he, Severus, would not be a teacher. He would still be a top Death Eater, and there would be no guilt in what he was doing now.
Another cauldron crashed to the floor as he and Eleanor, the woman who had stolen his job, tore at each other's robes, destroying his workplace in the progress. Professor Eleanor Jenkins was a hard woman to resist, and now she was out of her father's gaze, Severus gave in to human instincts and stopped resisting. And yet his every thrust of pleasure seemed to be marred by the feeling that he was betraying someone.
"You know what your problem is?" Eleanor mumbled into his shoulder as they lay under his desk, enjoying the post-coital atmosphere.
"What?"
"You think too much."
"What does that have anything to do with anything?"
"It affects your performance."
Severus scowled at the criticism, but his scowl eased as Eleanor begun trailing kisses along his collarbone. The full lips she had no doubt inherited from her mother had proven hard to resist since the first time Severus had tasted them. They would argue, almost kill each other and then there would be a lull, a few moments of nothingness and then clothes would go flying, hands searching, cauldrons flying and under a table they would end up.
"When you're with me, I want your thoughts to be on me."
Since their first tryst in the broom cupboard after Sorting, every moment that wasn't spent marking and plotting people's downfalls, they were wrapped in each other's arms. Eleanor wasn't Lily, but Lily was dead and Eleanor gave pretty good head. Amongst other things. It was growing frustrating though, for every time Eleanor got close to almost killing the Potter boy, he had to step in, be the much-hated hero and the almost get killed by Eleanor. Severus reasoned that in all these near-death experiences, at least he always got sex out of it. And Eleanor was quite like him. He had often kept her company at the Lair, but sometimes they had just sat in silence, reading and those were his favourite days. He could sit and read with her for the rest of his life.
"Your father will kill me," he said after awhile, realising this was also a problem. The Dark Lord had made it clear he wanted his daughters chaste for whichever man he decided to whore her out to. No one pointed out that all his daughters were whores anyway, so it didn't much matter; they valued their lives more.
Eleanor kissed him softly, reassuringly.
"Not if I don't let it affect my performance."