"It is obscene. They are students. How could anyone demand this of them?" Severus hissed at the paintings above the desk in the Headmaster's Office where he had taken reprieve after stepping into an unexpectedly explicit vision Ms Parkinson was practically begging him to see, but instead of finding distraction he was debating the issue ofImpleowith the former Headmasters.
"Be that as it may, bringing forth more purebloods to keep the bloodlines and magic strong is not a wholly unsavory idea." The bearded, dark haired, Phineas Black droned from his frame. "Wizarding birthrates have been falling since my time."
"Naturally. Magickal births are more taxing than nonmagical births, and contraceptive potions are now easily accessible," the graying Healer Dilys Derwent said from her ornate golden frame. "Not to mention the growing demand and desire of witches to work outside the home and more opportunities to do so."
"They are students. They should be focusing on NEWTS not eugenics," Severus retorted from his seat at the desk in the center of the room, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Yes of course, but I imagine many may not have much else in their futures anyway. You know the way it is. Especially for the witches of the oldest wizarding families. They'll all be married off in a couple of years anyway." Black replied.
"Many things have changed since your days, Phineas," Albus chimed in from his frame. "Severus, do you believe the students are taking this seriously?"
"Yes. I know it for a fact." He sighed as he rubbed his hands down his face, forcing back the images of Ms Parkinson.
"And have any… succeeded?" asked Dilys.
"Not to my knowledge. I spoke of it with Poppy this afternoon. She has no suspicions of anyone at this time." The matron of the hospital wing was one of the few among the staff that still seemed to maintain some trust in him. Likely because she knew of Albus's cursed injury and limited lifespan and of his own attempts to slow it. Perhaps she understood more than she let on, or she just knew how to separate her personal opinions from her work. She had provided him with a supply of contraceptive potion should he find the need to be a supplier. How ironic that it was one of the few potions he had never felt the need to brew himself. Not that he couldn't, should he desire to, but he had always seen it as too finicky and never imagined a need for it. He certainly never taught the potion.
"At least there is that," Dumbledoor sighed.
The other portraits nodded in agreement.
"Yes. But it is just a matter of time." He sighed again.
"You should inform the other Heads of Houses, Severus. They should be aware. The entire student population is now under the edict," Albus said.
Severus hissed. "Yes. But I imagine most have figured it out already."
Severus glanced around the staff room and cleared his throat, all eyes coming to rest on him. "As I am sure you have all been made aware, the Dark Lord is demanding an increase in the magical birth rate."
Horace, Minerva, Pomona and Filius all nodded.
"As you may not be aware, many of our students are also feeling the pressure of those demands."
Horace cringed, Minerva scowled, Pamona frowned, and Filus gasped.
"But why should they worry about such a thing?" Filius rung his hands.
Severus curled his lip. "Because their parents care about such things."
"It's deplorable," Pamona hissed.
"Yes. I believe our students should be spared this ask as well. Madame Pomfrey has graciously increased the supply of contraceptive available in the hospital wing and is available to all students with concerns. I urge you all to be diligent in this matter and please stay extra aware on patrol." He turned on his heel and left the staffroom.
Minerva followed him. "Headmaster."
He stopped, and turned with a sigh. "Yes?"
She met his gaze, face tight. She looked worn. "What sort of pressures do you believe our students are under?"
He tightened his jaw. "Direct orders from their parents to comply at least in the Slytherin house. I cannot speak for others, but I can only imagine that given our current student population, it is not isolated to the Slytherins."
She gave a slow nod, the creases between her eyes deepening. "Do you really believe we have more influence than their parents?"
His shoulders slumped. He didn't believe it. "We must try."
She narrowed her eyes, studying him. "You do not support the Dark Lord in this?"
"I have been placed here as Headmaster by the Dark Lord. He expects me to do what is best for the students of Hogwarts. You and I both know they should be spared fromImpleo."
Her face softened as she touched his forearm like she used to do. "Thank you, Severus." She turned and returned to the staffroom.
Severus startled awake again, pushing away more evocative images of receiving pleasure from Ms Parkinson's perfect pout. This time, his sleeping mind had brought her into his bedroom, dressed in Slytherin green lacy lingerie from her vivid imaginings and nothing else. She leaned over his reclined form, as he watched her expertly tease him with her tongue and fingers until he exploded with an audible groan.
He must be exhausted. His dreams were never pleasant, and despite the inappropriateness of it all, he preferred it to his usual. Again, he reached for his hardened flesh and stroked himself to completion with Ms Parkinson starring in his fantasy. He sighed as the pleasure washed over him, the tension in his shoulders and jaw easing in its wake. Disgusting.
Pansy read and reread the letter from her father, glancing over the list of names. None were worthy, in her opinion. How had they gotten here? Was this really the world her parents had envisioned for her when they'd chosen to have children? Was this really the legacy they wanted for their only offspring?
She crumpled the parchment with a hiss and vowed never to inflict the same on any offspring she may bring forth. Shoving the letter back into her desk drawer, she stood and walked out of the dormitory and through the common room.
Cringing internally, she smiled politely at The Dark Arts professor as they crossed paths during her patrol.
The Wizard paused, looking her up and down before he nodded. "Good evening, Ms Parkinson. I hope you are well."
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she nodded politely. "As well as I can be. I hope the same to you, Sir." She kept walking
"Hold up."
She stiffened as she paused. "Yes?" She felt the professor's presence behind her.
"You've been rather reserved in my classes lately. Is there something I should know."
Her jaw tensed, and she turned to face him as he continued to leer at her. He would certainly offer punishment if she said what she really thought - Unforgiveables were fairly useless if they were all you had in your skillset, and she was bored of torturing her fellow students. "Nothing at all, Professor."
"Good. I expect your full engagement moving forward, then."
"Of course. I understand." She moved away and turned back toward the direction she was headed.
"If you fail to meet expectations, I think private instruction may be necessary." He laughed as she continued in the opposite direction.
As she swallowed back the sour taste that erupted into her mouth, she fisted her hands at her sides. She had contempt for many people, most people really, but right now, Professor Amycus Carrow was at the top.
He limped down the dungeon corridor after an unpleasant evening with the Dark Lord. Potter, Granger and that Weasley boy had been spotted at the Ministry weeks ago and they'd nearly been caught. Fools. What could they have possibly been seeking there and how could impersonating Ministry officials have been their best plan? The place is crawling with Death Eaters and Death Eater some miracle, they had not been caught, but no one had heard or seen from them since and the Dark Lord was getting impatient. No one except himself, of course, thanks to the clever thinking, no-doubt of the muggle born among them, to tote along the painting of Phineas Black. Thankfully for him, the Dark Lord had not considered prying too deeply into his thoughts regarding the happenings at Hogwarts, never considering that the very information he sought could be found there. Not that Severus actually knew much more than anyone else, only that they were hiding and moving frequently.
The scent of bergamot and sandalwood betrayed her presence as he turned the corner to his chambers. Ms Parkinson stood at the entrance wearing a silk green camisole in place of her button down with her pleated green tartan skirt which seemed to be revealing a bit more of her thighs above her tall stockings than he had been privy to in the past and his weakened resolve had him considering how soft and sensitive that flesh must be.
He cleared his throat as he approached, his painful encounter with the Dark Lord all but forgotten. "That is not up to dress code, Ms. Parkinson." She clearly had used a warming charm as it was not seasonally appropriate either.
She gave him a coy smile. "It's the weekend, Sir."
"Then why are you here instead of fraternizing with your housemates?"
She set her jaw as she leaned against the door jam, pulling her shoulders back, the silk of her camisole catching the dim light of torches over the curves of her breasts. "We haven't seen you in a while, Headmaster. The other Slytherins and I were starting to get worried." She locked eyes with him, sage green behind thick lashes.
"You have confirmed my wellbeing, now step aside."
She stepped just past the entrance, forcing him to nearly touch her to reach the door handle, her smile widening. "You must have considered my offer by now, Professor." She licked her ample berry-stained lips, and his mind took him to his dreams of them around his flesh before he forced his fatigued mental shields up to push those thoughts away.
"I will not participate in that madness." He looked away, but the heat of her closeness brushed over him.
She pouted, bringing more unwelcome visions to his head and an improper ache to his groin, his mental strength already drained from his time spent with the Death Eaters.
"Are you sure? Perhaps you just want a sample?" She moved closer, as she met his gaze again. "Maybe just a touch..." She chewed her lower lips and stroked her fingers along her exposed collarbone as his eyes followed their path over her flawless porcelain skin above the shimmery silk.
He snapped his arm out to take her around the waist, pulling her close against his frame, the warmth of her soaking through his many layers. "Is this what you want, Pansy?" He sneered against her ear as he pressed her against the door jam, her perfume overtaking his nostrils as his inner voice begged him to regain his control.
"More," she cooed as she pressed her hips against his.
He reached a hand to grope at her breast through the sleek fabric. His self control fell to the part of him that loved the feel of her curves in his fingers as he searched for the raised bud of her nipple with one hand and dug the fingertips of his other deeper against her hip bone.
She shivered in his arms as she tilted her head back, exposing the pulses of her neck to his mouth and purred. "Yes, Sir. Please."
Nuzzling his nose against her soft skin, he took a deep drag of her earthy scent. Would it be so wrong? She was of age and literally begging for him. And was she truly destined for much more than to bear heirs? He kneaded her breast through the silk earning him a soft whimper, driving the stake into the coffin of his resistance.
"You are playing with fire, Witch." He glanced up and down the corridor and pulled her into his chambers, closing and locking the door behind him. Pressing her against the large wooden door, he leaned down, his nose against her ear and filled his lungs with her intoxicating scent again, feeling her warmth against his chest.
She reached for his fingers and placed them beneath her skirt directly on her bum as she braced her other hand against the door to support their weights. "Mmm, yes. I plan to burn."
Feeling her soft skin beneath his fingertips, he pressed deeper. Merlin, could he really do this?
"Shall I show you more?" She pulled the camisole free from her skirt.
He slid his free hand up her form beneath the silk, finding her breast again, and tugged at her hardened nipple through her thin lace bra.
She offered no objections. He could really do this.
Pansy chewed her plump lower lip as she watched him appreciate her soft curves. This beauty before him, this pureblood heiress, offered herself willingly and eagerly. He would be a fool not to take her. He deserved to have her.
"No one must know." He pinched the sensitive peak, and her breath hitched.
"Of course not, Professor. I swear it." Her tongue slipped over her lips.
He slid the hand beneath her skirt around her hip to dip between her thighs, finding her knickers already damp. He gave her an appreciative look as he slipped a finger beneath the fabric.
The witch pressed against his hand, and his finger fell into her wet slit. She gasped, and her eyes drifted closed as he continued the slow, deep, probing, the warmth of her passing through his fingers directly to his groin.
"I have other rules." He circled his thumb at the apex of her thighs.
She nodded as she opened her eyes, the look of her pleasure growing on her lovely features.
"Your lips will never touch mine, do you understand?" He curled a finger against her inner walls as she squirmed.
"Yes, Sir," she whimpered.
"No others shall have you." He squeezed her breast.
"Yes, Sir," she breathed.
"You will come to me on my schedule, and no other time." He placed another finger into her begging warmth.
She bent a knee, placing her foot against the door and parted her thighs. "Of course." She writhed against his hand, both her arms clutching desperately to the door behind her.
He leaned into her, his lips against her ear again, his nose buried in her hair, proving her existence to himself as his length strained achingly against his trousers. He released her breast and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as his other fingers twisted against her inner walls. "Come for me, Pansy."
She practically melted into his arms as her body shuddered, and she cried out, "Oh, gods. Yes."
He stilled his movements, watching the pleasure dance across her flushed features as the young beauty regained herself before pulling away.
"Excellent," he purred as he braced her shoulders and beckoned her to kneel before him.
She needed no further instructions as she looked up at him through her thick, likely charmed, dark lashes and reached for the buttons of his trousers. As in his all too realistic dreams, she licked her lush lips as she pulled open his trousers to release his engorged flesh. Her eyes widened as she took it within her hand. With a wicked smile, she stroked down his length as his core spasmed at the unfamiliar contact.
He almost released on her as soon as her breath brushed over the tip of his cock. Thankfully, he found some last moment restraint but not enough to hold back the groan as she took him into her hot mouth. He braced himself with one hand against the door and tangled his fingers into her dark locks to re-confirm that this was indeed not one of his vivid dreams as she slid her mouth down around him.
She hummed against his invading length as he pressed deeper, and her hands wrapped around his flesh, adding to his nearly overwhelming pleasure. She pulled away, her hand maintaining the perfect pressure until her mouth returned again and again. When her fingers brushed between his thighs to cup him, his resolve gave way and his body spasmed, filling her throat as he stifled back another groan.
She ran the back of her hand over her lips as she stood to face him. "I hope you will call again soon." She tucked her camisole back into her skirt and ran her fingers through her hair. Turning, she waited for him to unlock the door.
"You will return tomorrow night at curfew." He unclicked the lock and ran his gaze down her backside to take in the flesh between her skirt hem and her black stockings as she walked out of his chambers, leaving the scent of sandalwood and sex in her wake.
A/N: For those that started this earlier, I've edited and reformatted - consider a reread! Thanks for the support!