A/N: This chapter contains adult themes not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16.

Chapter VI: Creatures of the Dark

'What have you been thinking, Severus?' he quietly said to himself as he looked upon his reflection in the mirror.

He had agreed to accompany Cassandra to that Goth party, and instead of renting an outfit that surely would not fit, he had decided to wear something that had been lying in the back of his closet for the last seven years, untouched but not forgotten: a black, high-collared robe and – over it – a black cloak.

He was surprised to see how well they still fitted. And even more surprised when he realised that he had actually missed his Wizarding clothes. The heavy fabric felt wonderfully familiar against his skin, and the swishing sound the cloak made when he was walking was music to his ears. The beard had been wrong though, totally wrong. So he had shaven it off. And there he was now, standing in front of his bedroom mirror, staring at the reflection of a man who had died seven years ago, the reflection of Severus Snape.

He had not been prepared for this. And for a while, he just stared at the man in the mirror and wondered who he was. A spy and traitor? A murderer? A hero? Severus Snape had been so many things that it was hard to decide which one actually defined him. Maybe they all did.

'It is you,' he whispered. 'All of it is you, Severus.'

What had made him think that he could ever bury Severus Snape and let him rest in peace? What had made him think that he could outrun his past? He could run, yes, but he would never be able to hide. No matter how far away from England and the Wizarding world he was, Severus Snape would always be there. And maybe it was time to make peace with him.

He knocked at Cassandra's door at seven o'clock. He had chosen his Muggle clothes for the bus ride to Hveragerði: boots, black jeans and a simple black coat. His robe and cloak lay neatly folded in his black sports bag.

The first thing that caught his eye when Cassandra opened the door was her hair.

'Just how much wax did you use?' he asked.

Cassandra grinned and carefully fingered her spiky red hair. 'Enough to spear anyone who gets too close. Come in.'

When he took off his boots, Severus caught sight of Nicodemus, who came running into the hall, and prepared himself to be clawed and bitten. But to his surprise, the cat started rubbing its head against his legs, purring loudly.

'Wow, he must like your aftershave,' Cassandra noted dryly. 'So do I, by the way.'

Slightly embarrassed, Severus rubbed his now smooth chin.

'I like you better without the beard,' Cassandra added, and Severus bent to pick up his bag so she wouldn't see him blushing.

She showed him the room where he could change and – if he chose to – spend the night. Nicodemus followed at their heels.

'We'll be leaving in about half an hour. I'll go and get changed.'

As Cassandra left the room, Severus expected the cat to follow its owner. But it stayed put.

'How come you suddenly like me?' he growled and gave the tabby his best scowl. It meowed and once more rubbed against his leg before it trotted towards the door. And Severus could have sworn that it winked at him before it left the room.

After he had changed into his robes, he left the room and went to the kitchen. Cassandra had obviously anticipated that he would be ready before her and had prepared a cup for tea for him. He almost dropped it when she entered the kitchen. She was wearing a long black skirt in crushed velvet, with a corset top that was laced in the back. Her shoulders were bare, and her pale skin contrasted beautifully with the dark fabric.

'Do you like it?' she asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Severus just nodded. Of course he liked it. But at the moment he was too flabbergasted to utter a single sound.

They made their way through the village with their long, black cloaks billowing behind them. At first, it had felt weird to walk through a Muggle village wearing wizard clothes. But nobody seemed to notice. As a matter of fact, Severus soon realised that he and Cassandra were probably the two people in Hveragerði that evening who were dressed the least strangely. Or at least, they were the two people who wore the least make-up.

'I start to feel slightly underdressed,' he whispered to Cassandra as they passed a young man who looked like the crossing of a vampire and an Inferius.

'Don't worry,' Cassandra replied. 'It's dark in the church.'

'Church?' he repeated. 'Are you telling me that there is a Goth party in the church?' He wasn't a god-fearing man, but that seemed like blasphemy even to him.

Cassandra snorted. 'Well, actually the party is under the church, in the crypt.'

Now that felt loads better. Severus resisted the urge to shake his head and continued on his way, wondering how many more surprises that evening would hold.

She had not been kidding. They were indeed approaching the church. But instead of entering through the heavy oak doors, Cassandra led the way around the church. The entrance to the crypt was illuminated by torches, and so were the stairs that led underground. Severus could not help but grin as he walked down the stairs. He had missed the sound of robes swishing over a stone floor.

As they entered the crypt, his breath momentarily caught in his chest. The walls were draped with dark coloured fabrics, the tables were bending under the weight of food, and the air was filled with the heavy scent of spices and incense. It was like walking into one of Horace Slughorn's little gatherings.

Before Severus got a chance to take Cassandra's cloak, she was embraced by a tall man with long, blond hair, who was wearing tailored black trousers, a dazzling white shirt and a frockcoat. For the second time in only a couple of minutes, Severus' heart skipped a beat. If he had not known better, he would have sworn that he was looking at Lucius Malfoy, or his brother at least.

'That's just Per,' Cassandra told him as the blond-haired man had left for the buffet. 'Nice bloke. Lawyer. He's a little weird though. He thinks he's a vampire.'

Severus raised an eyebrow and looked after Per. For as much as he knew, the guy could have been a vampire. It would not have surprised him at all. Nothing would surprise him anymore that evening.

The wine was warm and spiced, and it went straight to his head. And after two hours, Severus felt as if his brain was embedded in cotton. And he was completely unable to think any coherent thought. Slightly disorientated, he wandered around the crypt, looking for Cassandra. He found her at the edge of the dance floor, arguing with the blond-haired man that reminded him so much of Lucius Malfoy.

'No, I am not going to dance with you, Per.'

'And why not, if I may ask?'

'Because you, sir, have sticky fingers.' The frown on her face turned into a smile when she spotted Severus. 'And besides, I prefer the dark type.'

She extended her hand towards him, and when Severus led her onto the dance floor, he could not help but give Per a condescending look. After all, Cassandra had chosen him over the fair-haired aristocrat.

He had not danced in years. The last time had been at the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament, and he had only done it because Minerva had made him. During the first song, he managed to step on Cassandra's feet three times, and he would have paid a lot of money to be let off the hook. But when the song ended, she resolutely kept her hand on his shoulder. She wasn't going to let go of him any time soon, and to be quite honest, Severus did not want to let go of her waist either. So the first dance turned into a second one, and that one turned into a third. And by the time they were dancing to the fourth song, the polite distance between their bodies had become non-existent.

How it had happened, Severus did not know. Perhaps it had been the wine or the candles, or perhaps the spicy scent of musk and honey that was emitting from Cassandra's hair, but suddenly he felt his body pressed up against hers and his hands tracing down over the curve of her hips and up her back again. And before he knew it, his hand was cradling the back of her head and his lips were upon hers. Her lips were soft and warm, and feeling them against his made a shudder go down Severus' spine. He let his hands trail down over her hips again, finding that her hands were exploring his torso through his robe.

Encouraged by her touch, he let the tip of his tongue slip over her lips. She tasted of wine and almonds. Softly, carefully, he teased her lips open. He desperately wanted to taste more of her. He heard her moan softly as his tongue entered her mouth and felt her press herself closer towards him. Almost reluctantly he broke free from her lips and looked into her eyes. There he saw the same thing that was burning inside himself: desire, lust. And as she pulled him off the dance floor, he followed her only too willingly.

In one of the deserted corridors of the crypt, he pressed her up against the wall, his mouth once more crushing hers. Her hands now found their way under his robe, and the touch of her fingers on his bare skin made him shiver. And so did the touch of her lips as she slowly kissed her way down his neck.

He pressed himself against her, hoping the pressure of her thigh against his crotch would give him some momentary relief. He moaned deeply as she traced his carotid with the tip of her tongue, and as her hand found its way between his legs, the breath caught in his chest.

'No, please Cassandra, don't,' he managed to groan while his whole body screamed for her to continue touching him.

'Don't you like it?' Her voice was raspy, barely more than a whisper, and the feeling of her hot breath against the side of his neck made Severus moan again.

'Yes, oh Gods yes, I do. But I cannot do this here.'

How he managed to climb the stairs that led out of the crypt, he did not know. His knees were weak, and he felt unsteady. And Cassandra turning around every few steps to take his face into her hands and kiss him deeply did not help at all.

It seemed to take her hours to unlock her front door, and Severus knew that pressing himself up against her back with his arm around her waist and his lips caressing her neck surely didn't make finding the keyhole any easier. But he just could not let go off her.

As the door finally opened, he swirled her around and kissed her deeply. They stumbled inside, tearing at each other's cloaks, tripping over them as they fell to the floor. Once in Cassandra's bedroom, Severus found himself tearing at the laces of her corset, clumsy as a teenage boy. If he only had his wand, or at least steady fingers. Cassandra's attempts to remove his robe were much more successful, and soon he was standing naked in her bedroom, with her still fully dressed on her knees in front of him.

Her hot breath on his naked flesh made him moan, and the softness of her lips made his knees go weak. He gripped her shoulder with his right hand while his left held onto the bedpost. If he didn't want the encounter to end before it had properly begun, he would have to stop her.

'Cassandra, please,' he moaned. 'Don't. I can't … I won't …'

His arousal rendered him incoherent, and instead of even trying to utter any kind of understandable meaning, he shoved her onto the bed, unceremoniously pushing up her skirt. Her legs parted at the slightest touch of his hand against her inner thigh, and as he let his hand slip into her silken knickers, he found that she was just as ready as he was. He had not the self-discipline to wait any longer but just pulled at the delicate fabric until it tore. Then he launched forward, covering her body with his, and buried himself between her thighs.

He had intended to do this slowly, to relish every single moment, but the smouldering heat of her flesh made him forget his good intentions. He heard her moans echo in his ears but they seemed to come from far, far away. He did not even know if she was urging him to go on or telling him to stop. His lust had completely overpowered his brain. He buried his face at her shoulder and thrust into her, deeper, faster. There was not an ounce of willpower left in his body, and he climaxed with an animalistic cry. As collapsed on top of her, the world went momentarily black.

When the blood supply to his brain was back to normal, Severus felt like slapping himself. This had not just happened. He had not just humped her like a hormone-driven teenage boy. But he had, and the embarrassment he felt was beyond anything he had ever experienced before. Without even looking Cassandra in the eyes, he rolled off her and started grabbing for his clothes.

'Are you leaving already?' she asked, and he grunted. Then he felt her grab his hand and pull him back onto the bed.

'I am sorry,' he said, his eyes still focused on the pair of silken boxers he was holding in his hands. 'It has been a while.'

'That's quite alright, you know. We have all night,' she whispered into his ear.

He felt her hands on his shoulders and her warm breath on the back of his neck and started to relax as she kneaded his tense muscles. He closed his eyes, savouring the touch of her hands. A shiver went down his spine as she started to place tender kisses on his neck, and he felt goose bumps erupt on his arms. And as her tongue flicked lightly against his earlobe, he noticed that his skin was not the only part of his body that reacted positively to her touch.

'I think we should give this another try,' she whispered and slid down from the bed, unzipping her skirt. It fell to the floor like a pool of black water. She straddled him and lowered herself slowly onto his lap. He felt the urge to buck up against her, but she kept her distance, wouldn't come closer, wouldn't touch. Instead she looked deep into his eyes. Then she leant slightly forward to brush a streak of hair from his face. The touch of her fingers against his check felt like warm summer rain. And the subtle brushing of her lips against his made him shudder once more.

For some moments, they just rested their foreheads against each other, eyes locked, lips barely touching. Then Severus felt Cassandra's hands softly trail down his back, and he imitated her movements. All of a sudden, the laces of her corset weren't an unconquerable obstacle anymore. And a simple pull was all it took for the silken laces to open and the corset to fall to the floor. Her hands were now on his shoulders, slowly gliding downwards to his chest. Again, Severus copied her movements. Cassandra sighed and closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. Severus let his left arm slide around her to keep her from falling, and she leant further backwards, arching up against him. He brought up his right hand to trace her jaw line with his fingers. Then he let his hand slide down her throat, over her chest, softly brushing her breasts with his fingertips.

He had not felt her move her hips. Suddenly he found himself pressed against her, and he brought his left hand to the small of her back to pull her closer towards him. She moaned as he slid inside her, and he himself gave a short growl. Again their eyes locked. Again their lips brushed softly against each other. And again neither of them moved.

Cassandra's lips parted slightly, and Severus let his tongue slip in between them. Honey, she tasted of honey. As he explored her mouth, he felt her press her hips against him and pulled her closer, holding her steadily so she would not move. He felt her muscles work around him and groaned into her mouth. When he loosened his embrace, she rocked slightly backwards, ever so slowly, ever so carefully. And just as slowly she rocked back towards him again, taking him inside her up to the hilt. Her gentle movements were heaven and hell at the same time, and Severus could do nothing but savour the sensation of her hot flesh.

His eyes never left hers, not even when he moved his hand between her legs to pleasure her. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he applied pressure, and he moved his finger just as slowly and carefully as she moved her hips.

She arched backwards as her orgasm hit, and Severus buried his face at her neck as he pulled her hips towards him, thrusting upwards, losing himself in the sensation of her muscles tightening around him.