AN: I had a dream and now this happened.
Also, I don't know French and I'm sure this all sounds terribly American versus British/French but listen, I'm not perfect. And I was not going to write up another American OC.
He was the utter stereotype of tall, dark and handsome. Or even tall, dark and brooding. But add on the constant insults, sneering towards lesson plans and at general joy and you had a recipe for every girl's praise and daddy issues.
Greatly her type. A bit younger for her taste but the closest thing to a fuckable human in Hogwarts at the moment.
And unfortunately, he was her co-worker.
Which greatly distracted in her daily life.
Florence was half way through the third term of her second year of teaching Music at Hogwarts. She was half still stunned that she remained in the position, the day she received the job offer owl still etched in her mind.
She had been in her tiny French flat, fresh from her Beauxbaton music department apprenticeship with Professor Lamar. The owl was a ragged one, old in age and very demanding for food payment for its trouble in delivery. As it poked at the food dish of her own owl's, she read the letter:
Dear Florence Dupont,
We are delighted to extend to you an offer to join the esteemed faculty of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as the Music Professor. With your exceptional talent, knowledge, and passion for music, we believe you are the perfect candidate to inspire and guide our students on their musical journey.
Position Details:
Role: Music Professor
Institution: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Location: Hogwarts Castle, Scotland
Contract Type: Full-time, Permanent
Responsibilities:
-Teach a diverse range of magical music courses to students of all ages and skill levels.
-Develop and implement engaging lesson plans that incorporate both theoretical and practical aspects of magical music.
-Foster a supportive and inclusive learning environment, encouraging students to explore their musical abilities and express their creativity.
-Provide individual and group instruction, offering constructive feedback and guidance to help students reach their full potential.
-Contribute to the development of the music curriculum and participate in departmental meetings and collaborations.
-Organize and oversee musical performances, concerts, and competitions within the school and the wider magical community.
-Assist students in discovering and honing their magical musical talents, including the use of enchanted instruments and spells.
Qualifications:
-A mastery of both magical and non-magical musical theory, history, and performance.
-A proven track record of teaching and inspiring students in a magical educational setting.
-Proficiency in various magical musical instruments, including enchanted variants.
-Strong communication and interpersonal skills to engage with students, parents, and colleagues.
-A deep understanding of the magical world and the unique challenges and opportunities it presents in relation to music.
-Ability to adapt teaching methods to accommodate diverse learning styles and abilities.
-A passion for music and a dedication to fostering a lifelong appreciation for magical melodies.
Compensation and Benefits:
-Competitive salary commensurate with experience and qualifications.
-Access to the extensive resources and facilities available at Hogwarts.
-Opportunities for professional development and collaboration with renowned magical musicians.
-A supportive and vibrant work environment within the historic walls of Hogwarts Castle.
-Membership in the esteemed Hogwarts faculty, with all associated privileges.
To accept this offer, please sign and return the enclosed contract within the week. Should you have any questions or require further information, please do not hesitate to contact us.
We eagerly await your response and the opportunity to welcome you as the newest member of our magical community at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
She had frantically grabbed a quill, spilling good black ink all over her kitchen floor and the tips of her ginger hair. She replied within 15 minutes saying, yes she would be enthusiastically accepting the position. In reality, she was terrified of the work, though excited. Florence had heard stories of awe around the primarily English based school. A castle of cold stone, a giant lake that students frequently skinny dipped in, and a headmaster that was half genius half senile. Very different from the almost rigid education she had experienced in Beauxbaton.
A wrinkle in your uniform three days in a row could easily land you in detention in Beauxbaton. But other than the occasional mischievous wood nymph, there were no such things as headless ghosts, or a wild poltergeist causing any sort of excitement in the chateau. Hogwarts students ,in comparison to her old school, seemed unruly. Mind you, Florence was always buried in her studies while she was a student, with maybe 4 or so close friends and her half Kneazle, Jinx for company. McGonagall had told her several times, she reeked of a Ravenclaw, whatever that meant.
But, there was no time for heavy petting in hidden corners of the chateau or fucking next to the one Floo that was connected to Durmstrang on the east side. Not while she was a dignified Beauxbaton student at least. Once she was accepted into her apprenticeship, Florence let herself have a monthly shag with a large nosed half giant wizard to keep her hunger barely satiated. However, just like the regular daytime student tomfoolery, she had discovered Hogwarts students cared far less about being caught. Nightly protocols nearly always included one door blast to reveal half clad students entangled, of all sexes.
She began to hate that she found herself jealous.
Almost 2 years into the position, she had found a rhythm to being a teacher in a different country. A professor's pool of local friends was limited to Hogsmeade and the staff. A shop owner named Bunny had become a close friend and a traveling tradesman named Conrad Inkwell had become her new monthly fuck. Not as big as a half giant but Rubeus the half giant groundskeeper wasn't…angry and solemn enough for her taste.
She kept connected to her French support circle through owls and scheduled Floo overs. It was the only way to keep her French intact and have proper baked goods. She did wish she had someone nightly to go home to. As she danced between the age of 20 and 30, dark nights in her music tower grading crappy second year essays secluded her greatly. The cold of Scottish winds constantly barrelling in her windows never helped either. It was the only noise to comfort other than her kindling's chorus.
As far as the actual job, to be honest, the attitudes of eleven to seventeen year olds a thousand miles more north was not much different. The flood of chocolate frogs from the kitchens to the Grand Hall from a badly casted Geminio had been the biggest student "prank" of this year. She had been grateful her classroom, particularly her sheet music, had been safe from all the chocolate smears. The faculty chamber had smelled sickly sweet for at least three days before Filius had waved in some cedar smell to cover it up.
Luckily, as she headed to the faculty chamber today, it had been a couple months since the frog incident. Her boots tapped in a slow pace compared to the cluster of students around her. There were no classes today, one of the few weekly days that all professors were free to meet. She watched as two Hufflepuffs and one Slytherin jogged towards the nearest courtyard, a cauldron in hand. With any luck, Florence would come out of this meeting to the smell of a burnt Amortentia potion.
"Careful with your cauldron, please!" She called out as they sped off. There was a nod from the Hufflepuff which she appreciated.
"Ms. Striker, Mr. Rook and Ms. Toads, it will be 50 points from each of you if that cauldron is not returned to the dungeons after your brewing, spot…less."
The students stopped fully at the sound of the rumbling, sharpness of Professor Snape's voice. The Slytherin, Ms, Toads as Florence was now able to remember, visibly swallowed unneccesarily before shouting in a military fashion, "Yes, sir."
Florence bit the inside of her top lip to stop herself from smiling.
She could never decide if she would rather have the power to fully stop a student's heartbeat with a syllable like Severus or if she would rather continue being the French Music professor that "unfairly" did grading curves for her upper division courses. But it was amusing to see the fear in students, she confessed.
"Dupont."
Snape opened the door to the chamber, his robe sleeves flapping like a black drape away from Florence. He stood assertively standing at an imposing height, evoking intimidation. He had come from the opposite end of the hall, leading them to be walking towards each other, the door handle in his left hand, a notebook of sorts in his right hand.
Florence instinctively hugged her pile of papers and notes to her chest before looking briefly into his eyes, curtained by his flat black hair. "Thank you, Severus." Immediately, bowing her head as if there was a large whopping willow branch in her way, she scurried in the room.
Her heart raced.
She had had some trepidation around the meeting today, all from a dream last week. Last Friday, she had been exhausted, the end of the term looming over her. Overwhelmed might have been the proper word. She had downed 4 glasses of beetle berry whiskey in her chambers to sleep.
Ok, maybe a word stronger than overwhelmed was needed.
She just needed to go to a bar and drink away her stress with friends but she had not been able to Floo over to Bunny Borealis' for some reason she could no longer remember. No one on staff, other than Snape himself, was close enough to Florence's age for her to feel comfortable enough bitching away about students over booze. So she had sat in the stiff armchair of her male predecessor and sank further and further into a drunken stupor. She vaguely remembered setting her glass on the floor before the world blinked away into a more foggy one.
She was walking towards the dungeons, in her nightgown, a long dark green sleep shirt. Her feet were bare. The bottom of her toes felt like they were kissing ice with every step but she was determined to get to her destination.
Her body, heavy with liquor, stumbled through the dungeon's wooden door with a crash. She hissed as a stray splinter lodged into her left pinky finger. Her breath still tasted of whiskey.
Looking around lazily, she noted the empty potions classroom.
Why was she here?
She lunged forward, leaning on potions stations as she struggled to make her way to the potions master's office.
The door was not locked, to her surprise. Possibly because of the late hour.
She collided with the door, the back of it slamming against a table as it swung open. Her fingernails dug into the wood, certain she would fall flat on her face if she didn't cling to the threshold.
Severus Snape, still clad in his daytime teaching robes, violently stood up at his desk, wand tip light and pointed directly at Florence. His teeth were barred, dragon-like, she thought idly.
"Dupont?"
He lowered the wand, a single eyebrow raised in what she assumed was confusion.
"Are yousingle? Because Merlin's beard, if you are, how are you not fucking dying for a fuck?" Her words were slurred and she could feel drool pooling in her mouth. She hadn't been drooled previously but something about having a wand on her face was making her mouth water. "Unless you're gay or fucking the Ghoul Studies teacher that's up your ass every staff meeting we have. Dieu, je veux savoir quelle est la taille de ta bite."
Severus's eyebrow remained unmoving though his wand was now pocketed into his robes.
"Ms. Dupont, you appear to be intoxicated." His drawl was lower than she was used to, from lack of use, it sounded like. It reminded her of a comforting rattle of her old Remembrall from first year.
"While I appreciate your compliment on my voice, I do currently worry for the state of feet and liver."
Fuck.
Florence had not remembered saying that out loud.
"Can I call you Severus?" Florence let go of the door, and fell forward into Snape's desk. Her hands were plastered on the papers on his desk, which she now was noticing were student papers. She felt something moist on her right hand and looked down to see red ink splattered between her index and middle finger. "Putain, je suis désolé."
Hands were suddenly on her shoulders and she looked up to see the pale professor directly in front of her. Her eyes blinked slowly, starting into his eyes that were only a few inches away from hers.
"My feet are cold."
"Incendio," A flame came to life to her left and Florence did a double take to realize that she was no longer in the office she had burst into but some sort of living chamber next to a fire.
"Sit." Snape was forcibly pushing her towards a couch of some kind.
Instead, Florence wrapped her arms around his neck, her feet tiptoeing to the still cold stone floor. Her whole chest leaned into Severus and she felt the rise and fall of his chest press against her nipples. She audibly moaned. "Putain, baise moi juste par terre s'il te plait."
Sliding her right hand away from his neck, she darted it inside of his robe, fumbling for a way into his pants. She found her pelvis rocking against his without thought, the friction soaking her vagina further and further.
She wanted his nose buried in her cunt, she wanted to be on top of him, grinding on his penis, she wanted to be shoved against the wall, his hand pumping in and out of her ass.
"Florence, you need-"
Florence's right hand found a lump below Snape's wrist and she let out a sigh of relief.
"J'ai besoin de ta bite. C'est si dur, j'en ai besoin en moi. s'il vous plaît, mettez-le en moi, bon sang." Her French was getting more and more raspy as her vagina walls pulsed with longing.
In her drunken thought, she had long decided this was clearly a dream and there's no way the real life Severus Snape could have let her touch him this actively. And that so long as he wasn't real, she could do whatever she wanted with him.
She would also be doing this again with beetle berry whiskey as soon as possible. Because this was the best sex dream she had had yet.
The now almost erect penis was twitching. Florence's head had been buried into his chest as she stroked it.
Severus's fainting boot heel clicking as he followed her into the meeting brought her back to the present.
Now was probably not the time to remember…this.
"Ah, Florence and Severus, lovely to see you." Dumbledore's voice carried through the room in a way that made her often wonder if he had some non-verbal voice projection spell constantly casted. "Just a few more to go".
Go.
Allez.
"Argh, allez. Plus vite, salaud."
She was mounting him as he sat reclined in his office chair. They were face to face though not directly looking at each other. She was positive that the old leather and wood was stabbing his neck in some way but also who gave a fuck when his cock was searing into her pussy. Was her utter intoxication making his dick feel huge compared to his actual length?
Probably.
Snape continued to thrust into her in a violent grunt and pump every half second. Her thighs had begun to sting a few minutes into the position but she never minded some pain. Her knuckles were ashen, trying to balance herself on his forearms that were now pinned to the chair's armrests.
Florence could feel the strain in his arms as she started to grind against his crotch. His shaft twitched inside at the motion and he let out a hiss of a breath.
"Quiet." She moved her right hand from his forearm to the left side of his neck, pressing down on it as leverage as she pressed his penis as deep into her as she could. "You're too calme putain." From staring at his waist bounce up and down, Florence shifted her gaze to his eyes.
They were black, almost in pain staring back at her. He was biting his lip, one of his canines visibly cutting off blood flow to part of his lips.
Suddenly she felt lightheaded, at eye contact. The back of her head tingled and she found herself trying to look ahead of him instead of into his eyes.
"I'm-"
Thrust.
"Not"
Two pumps into her.
"Done."
His hands were cold, despite the full body friction they were both in. At the word 'done', he had taken his left hand and grabbed at the back of her neck. He took a firm grip of it and pushed their foreheads together, his eyes staring into hers with new found anger. The tip of his cock was pressing sharply at her g spot and she could feel her eyes start to water.
Florence felt the same tingle in the back of her head, though it was lighter than before.
His eyes were so….black.
"You want me to call you a disgusting whore with a well used cunt, is that it?"
Her walls clenched at the words 'whore' and 'cunt'.
Snape's lips morphed from an almost flat line of concentration into a sneer.
"Oh, this is going to be-"
"Fun! Oh Sybill, do mind your step." The headmaster did a quick wand wave, closing the chamber with a door thud.
Florence summoned a cushy dark green armchair, complete with a side table to set her papers down. In what felt like a scurry, she planted her ass in the chair, and rubbed her hands together. They were sweaty, her earlier nervousness remaining palpable. Out of habit, she started pressing her right thumb into her left palm to massage the tension out.
She had avoided being in the same room as Severus Snape for days but now. There wasn't anywhere to find but as deep in his chair as she could go.
Her nose abruptly started smelling something almost burnt. A mix of smoke and something herbal. A chair was summoned to her left, as other staff also set up their seating. This chair however, was an exact replica of Professor Snape's office chair. His robes flowed as he took his seat. His glance remained on the headmaster.
Florence found her gaze shifting from her hands to the chair next to her. The armrests looked softer than the image burned in her mind.
His legs.
They were encased in black…almost wool? It was an unknown structured black material that melted into the back of his robes.
Had he had his pants on in her dream?
Albus was definitely speaking now though per usual, the music professor found herself struggling to listen. Most of these meetings were spent talking about far ahead festivities, comparing notes on troubled students, and fellow faculty asking for help. Nothing that usually interested her.
Instead, her eyes traveled from Snape's clothed calves, to thighs to his crotch. It was fairly covered, the top he was wearing having an extra length that kept the mystery well hidden.
Her vagina pulsed slightly and she shifted in her seat reflexively.
His head whipped around at the small motion and to avoid detection, she brought her gaze to him.
It was just as black as in her dream. Though void of any emotion, as if she didn't exist.
God, it was hot.
AN: No idea where I am going with this.