My dearest Katherine,
I hope all is well at home. The term began here at Hogwarts this morning. Already, I am absolutely annoyed by each class. This week of the term is always the most dreadful; the students are far too loud and enthusiastic for my liking.
I have several potions that I need to be working on; but every time I attempt to work, my mind goes back to you. Although my routines remain the same here, I can't help but feel as if something is amiss. Your lack of presence here is rather odd. I hadn't realized how accustomed I had become to your role here in the dungeons. I found myself today, as I sat in the empty potions room, staring at the seat in which you sat last fall. I remember that night we first spoke in the Astronomy Tower. I had little idea how much the coming year would bring us, and how it would leave me now to revel in the memory of you. I miss you, my love. I long for the days of our summer with you by my side. To be without you leaves me wholly empty, in a way that leaves me aching in my core for the moment I can hold you in my arms again.
Yours,
Severus
My Severus,
I am happy to hear that the year has started well. Please go easy on those poor children, the term has barely started. You have all term to make them loathe you. I am sure your term will go much more smoothly without you being distracted by me making eyes at you from the back of the room and finding ways to spend detention with you.
All at home is well. The rain has set in and has not relented the past few days, which has forced me to retire from my work in the garden. I had started working to winterize the garden and plant my perennials for the spring before the weather is too rubbish and the soil is too cold, but I assume I will have to wait until it relents enough for me to return to my work. I have turned to reorganizing the study and doing a little redecorating at home. You have a miserable amount of books, really. I swear, I haven't seen you touch half of what is on these shelves. Rest assured, I have not, nor will I, dealt with the disaster that is your desk. I will leave that to you when you return home for Christmas.
I miss you as well. It is strange here without you. It is quieter here. It was always quiet, but I miss the quiet of you reading in the study or working at your desk over this deafening silence I face now. Home now lacks the one thing that made it home to me, and I believe it will remain that way until you are back home. At least now I can play whatever records I choose without you complaining. I picked up Elton John's newest album earlier this week and have quite enjoyed playing it as loudly as I please.
However, the nights have been the strangest without you. I've grown quite used to sharing a bed with you, and although I enjoy sleeping through the night without being woken up by your horrendous snoring, I miss falling asleep in your arms. I also rather miss our activities before bed. It has been strange to crawl into our bed without you and trying to distract you from your book. I long for the feel of your lips on mine, for the touch of your fingers, for your body on mine. Recently, I find myself longing for those fingers if yours. Mine do not bring me as completely undone as yours and leave me a gasping puddle like you do. I crave for the nights that you dip your fingers under my nightgown and tease me into a shaking mess; for your dirty whispers as you pump your fingers into my core. Until then, I guess my own fingers will have to suffice.
Love you endlessly,
Katherine
My dearest Katherine,
Your last letter caught me rather unprepared when it arrived this morning. I had to excuse myself from breakfast and return to my quarters to continue reading it before my first class. The thought of you naked in our bed, rubbing yourself was simply too much for me to stand. I had to relieve myself before I could calm myself enough to collect my thoughts for my first class. However, the only thought I could manage all day was that of you and that perfect cunt, and how I wish that it had been your hand wrapped around my cock this morning rather than my own. Tell me, when you fuck yourself at night, what is it that you think of? Do you touch your breasts and imagine that it is my hand gripping at you? Do you dip your fingers into your wet cunt and think of my cock? Do you bring your fingers to your lips and think of the nights I have made you taste yourself on my fingers?
Like you, I have found myself longing for your touch at night. The last night I had spent in the bed in my quarters was with you. I remember how insatiable you were that night; how we had barely made it past the door when you dropped to your knees and took me into your mouth. Have I ever told you how divine you look with your lips wrapped around me? The noises you make alone are enough to completely destroy whatever ounce of self control I have when it comes to you. I often think about it when I am alone here at night, but like you, I find that my own hands are nothing compared to yours, and to that perfect mouth.
Do not touch my desk.
Yours,
Severus
My Severus,
I received your letter today. I am glad to hear that you are missing me as much as I long for you. I remember that night well, and the hungry way you knotted your fingers in my hair and fucked my mouth until you came down my throat. If I had known that you liked my mouth that much, perhaps I would have mouthed off more in class. I believe that you finding another use for it in detention might have been a well-learned punishment.
Your letters have left me absolutely randy these past few days. I only wish that we could have had a few more nights together before you returned to work. I had no idea that my husband being so far away would leave me with such disgusting thoughts of what I am going to do to you when you return home. As I touch myself, which I find myself doing more than just at night now, and now often at your desk picturing you on your knees in front of me, I think of all of those things. But, recently I have found myself daydreaming of you bending me over that back desk in the potions room, yanking up my uniform skirt and having your way with me after class. I must confess that I thought of that during your lectures as well. Must have been why I would do so lousy on tests, I was more focused on what your fingers would feel like wrapped around my throat than whatever it was that you were droning on about. Perhaps I should have been more brazen on the days I neglected to wear panties to class and had spread my legs wider for you. That way, you could have seen the mess I became for you. Maybe, our time in detention would have looked differently, professor.
Love you endlessly,
Katherine
My dearest Katherine,
Mrs. Snape, you naughty little minx. Do not believe that your attempts went unnoticed. The first time I noticed your bare cunt from where I stood in the front of the classroom, I nearly stopped breathing. Your legs spread under that table, that perfect cunt already drooling for me. It took all I had not to dismiss the entire class and take you right there on that desk. That night, I had to wank myself twice before my body would calm enough to sleep, and even then I had to restrain myself from summoning you from the Gryffindor Tower and taking you in the first broom closet I could pull you into. You will almost be my most depraved craving, my deepest desire; the object of my affections, and my waking thought. You occupy each and every of my thoughts from the moment I rise in the morning to the moment I retire. I look forward to returning home and seeing just how much you have yearned for me.
The quidditch season has begun here. I swear, the only thing that made this loathsome game palletable was watching you play it. It has begun to be chilly here in the evenings and the mornings. I hope you are warm enough at home. You should be receiving a package in the next few days- I purchased a new quilt for the sofa from the shop in Hogsmeade. I thought it would keep you warm in the evenings until I am home to keep you warm myself.
Yours,
Severus