In the weeks that went by, Snape and Cassie impatiently waited for the next move to be made by the craven Ministry. Snape found himself watching the parade of owls enter the Great Hall each morning just as restlessly as the seventh year witch did, wondering if that day would be it, the day that Fudge would be anticipating her to make a dire mistake, and try to hang her for it.
So far, Cassie received two more letters from her incarcerated mother. Both of them were similar in tone to the two previous ones, almost as if she were being coached in what to write in them; some generic, warm sentiment, spiced up with a portentous cautionary at the end, something that Bellatrix likely had skillfully negotiated to add. Even in her secluded state, Snape had no doubt that she was still masterful at manipulation, having had years to contemplate on how to play on people's emotions. The letters to her daughter, while unsuccessful at completely shaking Cassie so far, were slowly starting to ramp up in pleas to her tendencies to empathize, making Cassie shut down for a few hours at a time. When Snape had asked her if the letters were making her feel compassion for her mother's situation, she had denied the accusation wholeheartedly, but he wasn't quite convinced that the girl was capable of completely separating her emotions. He knew Cassie too well, knew that she was incapable of seeing Bellatrix as only a monster, even with everything that she had done. It was why he had to keep tabs on her, make sure she wasn't actually going to be enticed to try to reach out to her and get herself into trouble.
But so far, no information was given to Cassie on how to reach Madam Lestrange. So they continued on with their unusual routine, taking turns watching the ensorcelled bracelet that was linked to Quirrell, and following Potter, who was growing just as cavalier with Cassie as he had with Snape. It was a bit endearing to him, when she'd get upset that an eleven-year old was getting mouthy with her. She brought it up to him yet again when they were alone in his quarters for the evening.
"But it's like he's avoiding me now!" she said, looking absolutely forlorn that Potter, along with his almost as equally bothersome Weasley companion, had told her off.
"And?" Snape drawled, cocking an eyebrow at her. They were on the loveseat together, he sitting straight up attempting to read for leisure, with Cassie's legs strewn lazily across his lap as she attempted to study.
"Sev," she said, exasperated at his composure, even though on the inside he was feeling rather amused at her naivety, "It doesn't bother you that he basically hates us, even though we're spending all this time and effort to keep him safe?"
"I do not need an unending cascade of gratitude, in order to do what is honorable," he responded to her smoothly, knowing that the condescending comeback would antagonize her. But he couldn't help himself at times, rallying those types of responses out of the girl. It was her vehemence, her ability to swing from one end of the spectrum to the other in a matter of seconds, that made her so interesting to him at times.
"Well, aren't you so noble," Cassie replied quietly, folding her arms across her chest. "Apparently, I don't function the same way."
"No, because you have an unending desire to have everyone like you," he said, and she turned to him, her blue eyes flashing with annoyance at his quick answer. She pulled her legs away from his lap then, and sat up. Snape sighed quietly, because even though he was intentionally trying to pick a bit of a fight for his amusement, he wasn't appreciating that she was denying him her physical contact now.
"Oh, really?" she said, standing up and closing the textbook she had been reading. "Well maybe I don't give a shit if you like me."
One corner of his mouth started to curl into a smile, because now she was being playfully catty, encouraging the sparring. And that usually led to one thing between the two of them. "You don't care if I have a fondness for you?" he asked. She was slowly heading towards the bedroom now, taking careful backwards steps as her eyes stayed trained on him. She shook her head slowly, and he could tell she was trying to hide the sly smile that was playing at her lips.
"No, I don't, Severus."
Hearing his name on her lips in that inviting, glossy tone ignited something in him then, as it usually did, and he pounced from the couch. He took a few long, quick strides to cross the room, catching her petite, giggling frame in his arms and pulling her the rest of the way to his bed.
"Let me show you," he growled, pushing her back onto the bed, "How much I like you," and she moaned softly as he began to caress her breasts, plant kisses along her collarbone. Her hands were roaming all over him, tugging at the layers of cloth that were barriers between skin touching skin. She started to yank at his robes, haphazardly pulling at them to get the attire out of her way, and he found himself amused yet again at her eagerness to get close to him, to feel him.
Cassie had his shirt off, and had somehow managed to wrestle herself on top of him, when suddenly, her words jarred Snape out of their enjoyable antics. "It's black!" she gasped, and his eyes immediately shot to the bracelet around her wrist. For a split second, he hoped she was mistaken, because at the moment he was rather enjoying the feeling of the young woman mounted on top of him, the warmth of her still-clothed loins inches from his strained hard-on. But when he saw that the trinket was in fact, gleaming a dark shade of ebony, he immediately sat up and grabbed Cassie by her upper arms, guiding her off of him.
"Where did you see Potter last?" he asked her, seeking to formulate and stick to a plan, because the color of the bracelet was indicating that they needed to move quickly.
"The library," she answered him, frantically replacing the garments that he had just taken off of her body, and grabbing her wand.
"Find him," he commanded, "make sure he's safe. I'll go to the third floor corridor, go after Quirrell."
They executed their plan, Cassie taking off to find the boy, Snape going to find the deceitful professor. He first went to the third floor corridor, but there was no sign of Quirrell. Nor was he anywhere near the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. His next thought was to go to the library, in case Quirrell, who had still been looking ailing and macabre as of late, had finally snapped and decided to openly go after Potter regardless of who was around. But he found nothing amiss there, Cassie sitting at a table nearby Potter and a few other Gryffindor first years, not even pretending to be doing anything besides watching them.
She got up as soon as she spotted him, meeting him at the doorway. "He's gone," she whispered, pointing at her wrist, and Snape was at a loss now, because the jewelry looked normal, any hint of a glowing enchanted color absent.
He looked to Potter, who shot a suspicious glare at him momentarily, before returning to whatever conversation he was having with the Granger girl. "Did you notice it change color before it stopped?"
"No."
Both of them uneasy, they patrolled the corridors for about an hour, before going back to Snape's quarters for the night. They continued to keep an eye on the bracelet, glancing at it every few minutes or so to see if its appearance changed. But Quirrell was still gone. Snape worried that somehow, the spell created by the potion had worn off or been broken, and Cassie reassured him that it wasn't the case, trying a few times that night to pull him back into their game of seduction. But he could not be distracted from his uncertainties, no matter how many times the young witch kissed him or groped him, much to his lover's dismay.
It wasn't until the bracelet started to glow a soft yellow early into the next morning that Snape started to relax a bit. At least now, he knew that the spell was still in place, that they could still use it to keep an eye on him and they wouldn't have to constantly be prowling the castle, looking for signs of sinister activity. But the sense of security was rather short-lived, because at breakfast, Quirrell looked much healthier, refreshed, and much further away from his death bed. His swift change in condition was incredibly perplexing, something that Cassie agreed with and didn't have an answer for either. Even Dumbledore, who Snape always had to consider very well might have a plausible answer but might not be sharing it with him, seemed a bit puzzled.
Quirrell's abrupt changes in condition happened once more in the next month. Snape and Cassie watched together in confusion as he went from looking energetic and healthy, to rather atrophied and tired again. Then, with the use of their bewitched bangle, they indirectly witnessed him leave the Hogwarts grounds again, once again returning the next day looking vigorous.
Snape brought up the fact that unicorn blood was being found in the Forbidden Forest to Dumbledore. The Headmaster neither confirmed, nor denied that he felt that this might be a plausible explanation to Quirrell's miraculous recoveries. Rather, he merely said, 'mmm,' and continued on combing through the book he was reading, taking a sip of his hot chocolate, and wouldn't speak of the topic with him any longer.
But even with all of these inconveniences and constant things to be considering this school year, Snape was trying not to take for granted that he had a partner in everything, someone to help alleviate the stresses. Some days, he felt like he had only a few minutes to spare to even think of her, between worrying of Quirrell's antics, and Potter's safety, and teaching classes, and whether or not the Ministry was going to try something more drastic than they were anticipating. But when he did have those fleeting unoccupied minutes, oh, did he cherish them. He was well aware that he was not good at verbalizing the fine points he found in Cassie, and in fact was rather hasty to point out her flaws to her face. It was a habit ingrained in him since he was young, that negatives always be spoken of, and the positives never be given the light of day. No, that would make one too vulnerable, to admit that they found something endearing about another human being.
He was slowly getting better at being affectionate and gracious with her, at least he hoped he was. Overall, she didn't seem to mind his harshness, his quick temper; not that she didn't have one to match at times. In fact, she almost seemed to embrace the negative aspects of his temperament, something that made him question her sense of judgment. That, or she had been around him so much and for so long that she was just used to it. Either way, it made him appreciate the girl even more, that she could not only tolerate him, but actually seemed to enjoy being around him.
As Valentine's Day approached, he found that he was growing a bit concerned about making the holiday memorable for the young witch that he exchanged I-love-you's with. He had meant the words all of his soul. What do you do for someone you felt so strongly about, to put those words into action, that was more than candy, or stupid flowers, or a poorly written sonnet? He considered getting her nothing rather than something that seemed forced and cheap. For a short time he almost thought it better to just spend time with her, and she would probably be just fine with that, knowing the genial girl. But he wasn't satisfied with that. So as the annual holiday drew closer, he continued to wrack his brain for the perfect gift.
Then it finally dawned on him, to make her an elixir he had never contemplated before, because he never had someone in his life that he would even fathom giving it to. It was intricate, with many detailed steps and delicate ingredients that he wasn't that used to working with. But it wasn't that time consuming, and would take him all of an evening to brew. It was ideal, and even as he began to gather the odds and ends to start making it, he felt his despondent heart beat a bit faster in his chest, the unfamiliar feeling of his guts twisting in excitement, something that he was starting to feel much more frequently the more he was around her.
The anticipated day was upon them, landing on a Friday. The only conversation Snape and Cassie had exchanged was that they would meet up that evening when classes and Snape's supervision of detentions were done. He kept his fingers crossed that Quirrell wouldn't be up to anything too malevolent that night and spoil the fun. Even as Snape sat at the High Table and picked at his breakfast, he shot momentary glares at the turban-wearing professor, daring him to try anything trivial. The next thing to keep an eye out for was the mail, and as the owls flocked in, Snape didn't realize he was holding his breath; he knew if Cassie received a letter from Bellatrix today, it might put a damper on the mood and there would be no helping it. At first, it didn't seem like anything was heading towards her, but then he realized that there was a second wave of birds coming through with the extra cards and packages being exchanged among the students.
One rather large barn owl caught his eye for some reason, soaring towards the Slytherin table, and Snape watched in horror as it made its way towards his lover. For a split second, he thought it couldn't possibly be for her, because in the mess of wings and beaks that were trying to make their way to the right students in the hall, he could have sworn he saw a flash of pink in its talons. If that were the case, there was no way it could have been meant for her; who in their right mind would be sending her a sing-o-gram today?
And then he saw it, the grandiose, rose colored card in her grip as the school owl took off again. The students sitting around her were fussing now, begging her to open it so they could hear what was written inside. Of course, everyone knew it would be better for her to do it now, or it would only be louder, flashier later on. Even so, the girl's eyes shot up to where he sat, and he could tell that she was feeling quite sheepish, the expression on her face apologetic, and then she made to get up from the table, likely intending to get out of the hall and away from prying eyes with the Valentine's card in hand. He was silently willing her to get out without causing a commotion as well, mainly because he wanted to get to the bottom of who had sent it to her.
Cassie got as far as standing up, and the card was ripped from her hands by Babbs, the Slytherin prefect, and before Cassie had the chance to snatch it back, he had passed it down the table. It passed through the hands of not one, not two, but three more seventh years, landing in the hands of Wladyslawa Laanstra, and then the girl had the audacity to open it. It exploded in a cloud of pink and red glitter, showering the surrounding occupants of the table, and burst into a cheery little song. The words barely registered to Snape, he was so angry that the other Slytherins had taken to doing something so childish, but now he was listening for the culprit. Finally, he heard who had sent it, as the words from the card were being spoken out loud. He, along with the rest of the hall heard the declarations of love from Charlie Weasley.
Another commotion erupted at the revelation, this time coming from the Gryffindor table. The Head Girl, Fiona Jenour, had stood up, and was shouting obscenities in Cassie's direction, something along the lines of it not being fair, that she had her chance and had blown it, and let someone else have a turn. Oohs and aahs and laughter ensued, and now professors surrounding him were standing, trying to calm the noise in the Great Hall. Cassie, looking rather annoyed, was heading out now.
He wanted to follow after her right away, but thought better of it. First, he went down to the Slytherin table to speak with the students that had been responsible for taking the card away from her. Careful not to actually take any house points away in the process, Snape assigned all of them detention for their antics. Once the Great Hall seemed to be in a much calmer state, he went to find Cassie. Not knowing what kind of state she might be in after that very public humiliation, he was very surprised to find her in the entrance hall, leisurely standing against the wall as if she were waiting for him, a smirk plastered on her beautiful face.
"What do you find so amusing, after all that?" Snape asked her quietly. Without saying a word, the two of them started to head towards the dungeons so they could have some privacy. He was starting to think they'd be better off taking their breakfast in his rooms so they wouldn't have to make this trek so often, although it would be highly suspicious.
"The ridiculousness of it all," she answered him after some time had passed and they were deep underneath the castle, less likely to be overheard by passersby. Snape wanted to respond, but he waited until they entered his classroom and had closed the door.
"I assigned them all detentions," he told her, and she gave him a knowing smile.
"Sev, you didn't have to do that. They're stupid kids."
"You say that like they're not the same age as you," he quipped, and she laughed. "You don't think they deserved to be punished?"
"No, it's not that," she said slyly. "I was just intending to get them back on my own."
"And here I thought you were trying to be the sophisticated one," he mused.
"Now what gave you that idea?" Cassie answered him, and she came up to him, standing on her tip toes to plant a sultry kiss on his lips. She knew just how to get him going, get his blood warmed up. The little vixen.
"Don't try to distract me," Snape growled lowly. "You think we came down here to talk about your idiotic classmates?"
She sighed then, and for the tiniest second, he was distracted by the movement of her bosom, the way that her breasts strained against the buttons of her uniform shirt when she breathed. But only for a bit. "You want to talk about Charlie - "
"I find the topic reasonable, don't you think?" Snape snapped, his mind promptly yanked in another direction as the Weasley boy's name fell upon Cassie's lips.
"Severus, don't get all worked up now. It means nothing," she started, and even though he knew that what she was saying was likely, that he had no valid reason to doubt her devotion to him, he found that his jaw was clenching, and that his hands were starting to ball into fists even as he looked at her.
"Then why," he said slowly, trying to keep his low voice even in an effort to be fair to her and not explode, "is he sending you love notes on Valentine's? Did you not tell him off when he sent you the last letter, begging you to take him back?"
Cassie's eyes were cast down to the floor when he asked her the question, and then she looked up at him, her big blue eyes expressing her uncertainty as she contemplated her next words. Snape's eyes flitted down to her mouth, because now she was biting the corner of her bottom lip, something that drove him wild, made him want to forget everything they were disputing about and overrun her with kisses, but he restrained himself. He wondered if she knew that the tiny little motion had that visceral effect on him, if she was attempting to use it to her advantage, or if it was just a nervous tick.
"I did, Severus, although I wouldn't exactly call it telling him off," she said then.
"What does that mean?" Snape hissed in response. "You politely declined? That you still left the boy with a bit of hope?"
"I don't think so - "
"Cassie, you either know, or you don't!" he interjected.
"Severus," she said then, and her expression was suddenly rather stern, daring him to continue on with his tirade. It was another reason why he loved her, that she could match his peevishness when the need arose. It certainly kept things interesting. "I didn't leave him with any hope! Because there is none! Perhaps I wasn't as forward as say, you would have been in the response."
"Well apparently, you should have been!"
"Oh, Severus," Cassie said then, sounding quite exasperated, "Do I have to remind you, once again, that he was my best friend at one point? That I didn't want to be rude to him because of that? Do we have to let this ruin today?"
"I just don't like the idea of that boy thinking he has any prospect of winning your heart back," Snape growled, and then she strode over to him quickly, wrapping her arms around his torso, embracing him tightly.
"Not in a million years, would he ever have a chance," she said, looking up at him and resting her chin on his chest. "My heart belongs to you, Severus." He looked at her for a few seconds, placing a tender hand on her cheek.
"I know," he said finally, and bent down to kiss her, taking a few extra seconds to wrap his long arms around her and return her embrace. "But your reply to his love note better be vulgar. I want lots of name calling."
She snorted in laughter then, pulling out of their hug to playfully shove him away. "I'd better just let you write it then!"
"This will all be so much simpler when we don't have to hide any longer," he said then, sighing as he realized they only had a few minutes before they had to once again, head their separate ways for classes.
"Simpler, yes," Cassie said, "But you have to admit, it adds a bit of fun, having to sneak around."
"As it may be. I also wouldn't mind being able to boast the fact that you're mine," he said smoothly, and she grinned at him.
"For some reason, I can't imagine you parading me around. You're not exactly the bragging type."
"Not under normal circumstances. But look at you," Snape replied, and he kissed her again. His sentimental words must have had an impact on her, because now her tongue was in his mouth, and she was tugging at his robes, the way she did when she was growing quite frisky. "Cassie," he breathed, placing his hands on her shoulders gently. "Cassie, you have lessons. I have a class arriving in minutes."
She pulled away from him, looking quite piquant with her cheeks now rosy and lips slightly pouting from his denial. "You're a tease," she bantered.
"Save it for tonight," he told her. "I have something for you."
"Oh? And what might that be?"
"You'll have to wait and see."
She scowled at him, although he knew it was of playful nature. Heading towards the door, she suddenly stopped and turned towards him one last time. "Oh, I have something for you, too." In one smooth motion, she pulled her tucked uniform shirt from the top of her skirt, lifting it up over her chest, and revealed a black and purple lacy corset. She left it exposed just long enough to give him a proper visual, and then promptly pulled her shirt back over the racy lingerie, heading out the door and into the corridor.
Blast that girl. Snape was grateful that his usual wardrobe consisted of loose robes, because otherwise he'd have to teach the first class of the day while seated behind his desk. He'd have to work extra hard that day not to think of it too much, at risk of being constantly distracted. For the most part, he was able to stay focused on the task at hand, to stay on top of his students and keep his usual intimidating stance. But every now and then, he'd catch his mind wandering.
That purple on the corset that was currently confining her chest, was it the same shade as that thong, the one she had worn in class that day so long ago? The one that had ended in him spanking her?
Damn her.
This Friday was dragging on, his classes seeming to be agonizingly slow as he willed them to go by just a tick faster. All he wanted now, was to have Cassie in his rooms, in his bed, in his hands. He didn't know if he'd even have the restraint to give her the potion he'd made, or if he'd just start to ravish her as soon as they were alone, pull apart her legs and drive his stiff rod into her, over and over until they were both shaking and gasping for breath...
He was in detention now, sitting at his desk, pretending to grade papers as the group of students in front of him chopped huntsman spiders and yarrow plants for their punishments. There were two Hufflepuff third years, who had this detention set up nearly a week ago, along with the gaggle of Slytherins that had given Cassie grief over Charlie's sing-o-gram earlier that day. Snape glared at them, as if somehow their being there was delaying his time with her, as if their inefficient mincing was making the time go slower than usual. He considered letting them all go early, but there was no point to it. They would be let go at nine o'clock sharp, and she would be there shortly after. Letting them go before the agreed upon times would only make him seem soft. And right now, he was anything but.
Finally, it was nine. He barked for them all to leave, and they did so rather willingly. Not caring that many of them hadn't finished chopping their assigned ingredients, he cleaned up rather quickly, and with a wave of his wand, the spiders and blooms flew neatly into their respective containers.
"Hi," he heard from the doorway, and there she was, standing in his classroom at last, free to be his for the night. "Are you done?"
"I'm all yours," he said, and then he paused for a moment, pulling Quirrell's bracelet from his pocket to give it a glance. Noting that nothing alarming was emanating from it, he stuffed it back into his robes hastily.
"Good," she said, a small smile playing at her lips, and she crossed over to him, firmly planting her lips to his, stirring something quite animalistic within him. He briefly considered taking her right then on his desk, something they had done numerous times, but he abstained.
"Please tell me you're still wearing that lovely ensemble underneath your uniform," he said, taking her hand in his, leading her through his office and into his quarters.
"Oh, so you haven't forgotten about it?" she asked, giving his hand a squeeze.
"How could I forget that wicked little display you gave me this morning?" he purred, and as they entered his living area, he pulled her to him, taking in the scent of her hair as he snatched the school robes from her frame, letting them fall to the floor in a heap. "I could think of little else."
"Then it did what I intended," she said, giggling as he continued to undress her. He was taking his time, carefully undoing the buttons on her shirt, rather than ripping it apart and sending them flying like he was accustomed to doing so frequently. It was like he was opening a gift, revealing the coveted lingerie underneath. It looked just as divine on her form as it had that morning, the black and purple matching precisely what he had been picturing in his tortured mind all day.
Next, he moved to rid her of her skirt, reaching around her backside for the zipper, and he noticed that she was flushing on her chest and cheeks, something that was always a bit captivating to him. "Are you flustered?" he asked her lightly. "Am I not moving fast enough for you?"
She closed her eyes he slowly opened up the zipper and pulled down the skirt, intentionally brushing her skin with his hand as he went. The Slytherin garment went to the floor and she eagerly stepped out of it. "What did you say you had for me, Severus?" she asked, taking a deep breath as his hand went to grip her naked butt cheek now, the tips of his fingers nearly digging into the soft skin.
"Risveglentine," he muttered in her ear, the exotic name likely not sounding familiar to the girl, as it was something banned from being taught in the magical school. "It's an elixir that will significantly heighten your...erotic senses." He hoped it would be as tantalizing as he had imagined when he was mixing it for her, the delicate combination of rare blooms and pheromones from rare, far away species a very interesting brew for him indeed.
She opened her eyes then, looking a bit distracted, not the response he had intended. "Oh, that sounds alluring," she said, and then she was biting her lower lip again. "And a bit intimidating."
"You seem unsure," he said, searching her eyes. He wanted her to be certain, not pressured into anything just because he had made it for her.
"Will you take some with me?"
"I would, but one of us to has to be of sound mind in case - " he started.
"In case Quirrell," she muttered, finishing his thought. "I don't know Severus, what if you need my help?"
"I don't want you to worry about that tonight," he told her, and he meant it. She had done so much for him over the last few months, it was the least he could do for her, to offer this small chance for respite. He watched her as she thought it over, her gorgeous face screwed up in reflection, and he could tell the exact moment that she made up her mind, because she softened, looked peaceful all of a sudden.
"So there's a chance I'm going to be all revved up, and you're just going to have to leave me here all alone? That sounds cruel," she teased.
"I suppose there is," he replied. "You're just going to have to trust that I'll return to take care of you." She was giggling, seemingly back to her normal demeanor then. He went to his bedroom, and pulled the small vial of blood red liquid from his nightstand. Cassie eyed it with a bit of apprehension, but when Snape pulled the cork off and placed it gingerly to her lips, she drank it without hesitation.
The power of the draught seemed to hit her almost instantaneously. He could tell that she was trying to restrain herself at first as she sat next to him on the loveseat and he was languidly feeding her chocolate covered strawberries. She was immensely enjoying the the taste of the dessert on her tongue, that much he was certain, as the potion was also intensifying those senses as well. But the longer he observed her, the more he noticed that she was fidgeting in her spot, crossing and uncrossing her legs as if she was trying to relieve some sort of pressure. And then all at once, she took the plate of fruit from his hands, tossing it onto the coffee table, and directed his palms to her breasts.
"I need you to touch me," she gasped, her eyes wide and intense, and then she was on him, her hands roughly gripping his hair, her tongue pressing into his mouth and grappling with his. He was feeling for the ties on her corset, wanting to release her body from its confines and see her nakedness in all its glory once again, when he stopped himself. This wasn't the point of his Valentine's gift, to get her all worked up and then pound away in a few short minutes. He wanted to make a night of it, enjoy themselves. So he slowly forced himself to stand, even with the fuddled girl still pawing at him, and tried to make his way to the bedroom with her in tow.
"Cassie," he croaked, turning his head to break his mouth away from hers for a moment, and she kept attacking him, now suckling on his neck. He was a stupid, stupid man. There was no way he'd be able to resist her like this. "Cass, let's just slow down a minute."
"Why?" she panted. They had made it to the bedroom, were standing in front of the bed, but now she was dropping to her knees, and oh, how he loved it when she did that, but he still reached down for her, grabbed her by the upper arms and made her stand back up.
"While I appreciate your enthusiasm," he said with a smirk, but she didn't look amused as he slowly backed her up towards his bed; rather, she looked a bit crazed, like if he didn't continue to touch her, she might just curse him, "I was hoping that this night would be a bit more sensual, considering that it's our first Valentine's."
"You feed me that elixir, and then you tell me to slow down," she said, her voice gravelly with need, "I don't think sensual is the word for it. I think sadistic is more like it!" He cocked an eyebrow at her, amused at her indignation, and then pushed her down roughly onto the bed, crawling over her, catching her wrists in his hands and pinning her arms above her head.
"If you're going to be rude about the whole thing, girl," he said with an air of authority, nipping at her earlobe as she writhed beneath him, trying to generate some contact between them, "Maybe I won't be as generous as I was planning. I'll just have my way with you now."
"Please do," she panted. He pressed a knee between her legs, making her moan loudly just with that contact. In response, he grabbed his wand from beside the bed, waving it softly, and a satiny, white ribbon spurted from the end, starting to neatly wrap itself around the dainty wrists that were still in his grip.
"No, I don't think I will," he drawled as the ribbon continued to bind her hands together above her head, "because you want it so much." He pulled on the soft binds, making sure they were taut enough that she couldn't just shimmy free, and then started to attach the end of it to his headboard.
"Severus," she said, eyeing him warily, partially bound now. The color on her cheeks deepened as she stared at him, although he wasn't sure if the look she was giving him was out of pure anger or out of fascination just then, "you're being downright malicious now."
"I beg to differ," he replied coolly. He then pointed his wand at the her side, and her corset suddenly popped open, and he wasted no time in pulling the stiff piece of clothing off of her. It was a mouthwatering garment, and the idea of it had tormented him all day. But now that he had her in his bed, he wanted her completely exposed to him. "Rather, I feel that I only have your best interest in mind, my dear."
Her responsiveness to his attentions were absolutely delectable. Every small caress, every hint of his warm breath on her skin made her moan. He spent time exploring every inch of her with his fingers, his tongue, his lips. When she was trembling so hard that she was nearly unable to speak, he finally placed a hand between her legs, his curiosity getting the better of him, and he found that she was absolutely saturated, her juices having made a large pool on the sheets underneath her. He had told himself that he wouldn't make love to her until much later in the night, that he would save that act after he had pleasured her in a number of other ways first, but as she requested it of him over and over in that breathy, sweltering way, he gave in much earlier than he had anticipated. But he could hardly be disappointed in himself as he drove his aching cock into her, sending waves of pleasure through both of them, making her scream to the heavens. She was so tight, so warm, so inviting. He'd never get enough.
He was pleased to find that the powers of his brew didn't wear off even after her first explosive orgasm. So he continued with his ministrations, this time conjuring a sleek black blindfold to cover her eyes with, and a feather to create new sensations with. After their second round, he used hot candle wax, dripping it on her skin, careful to stay away from areas that would be much too sensitive in her heightened state. They went well into the night, and then into the early morning, and only when Snape was sure that he was going to collapse from sheer exhaustion and his beloved looked the same, did he finally pull her into his arms and nestle her onto his chest so they could both get at least a few hours of rest before having to start the next day.
At the very least, he knew he had given her a night of distraction from all of the aggravations that continued to come her way, that would surely continue to amplify and bombard them both. That was why he had kept the steamy night's activities going strong, trying to keep her in the moment, even when he noticed the spellbound bracelet indicating that Quirrell had once again left the premises, and was likely up to something sinister.