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Secretly Slytherin	By : Veresna Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 12269 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Chapter 10: A Very Long Night Finally Ends
He had to admit that, as a whole, the head was very well done. Not a trace of her own hazel-green eyes could be detected in the large, round orange orbs that were staring angrily at him. But, if you looked very closely you could see that, despite the ear tufts placed at the top, her own human ears were quite visible on either side of her head.
But, it was the appearance of the wings and feet that were so outrageously comical. For, at the end of each of her very pretty wings dangled a small, minuscule version of her own hands, with her wand, shrunk down to a tiny size, grasped in the right one. And while the left leg was a perfectly shaped, quite normal-looking owl limb, ending in a claw, the other was unmistakably human in form. And, since it was encased in a fishnet stocking and had a diminutive shoe at the end, the overall effect was so absolutely farcical that Snape was unable to stop laughing.
On top of which, she was angrily yelling at him. Or she would have been, had she been in possession of a human mouth and voice at the moment. The angry hoots and chirps that were emerging from her furiously clicking beak, combined with the strenuous hopping movement she was making, only added to the ridiculous nature of the situation.
Snape threw back his head and howled again with laughter. At this, the enraged conglomerate beast that was Helena managed to throw herself into such a frenzy that she was able to fly angrily at his head, even with the distinct disadvantage of those tiny hands weighing down the ends of the wings.
Lazily, Snape pointed his wand at the irate creature and murmured a spell. Instantly, Helena found her wings unable to move and she dropped, unhappily into his lap. He put his wand back in his pocket and reached down to pick her up in his hands.
"Now then, little one," he began. "Look at what a mess you’ve made of things. You’ve dropped your wand in your anxiousness to attack me, and how do you ever expect to transfigure yourself back to human form without it?"
The bird/girl hooted in a most distressed fashion, looking back and forth between him and the tiny wand that was indeed lying on the floor. She opened her beak for a moment, as if she were preparing to nip at his fingers.
"If you bite me, I’ll find a nice little cage for you, and you’ll stay this way for quite a while!" he warned.
Her beak was already around one of his fingers, but she pressed it only lightly against the skin, as it she had meant all along only to give him an affectionate nibble.
"Good little bird," he noted, mockingly, as he put her down beside him on the bed.
He leaned over and managed, with difficulty to grasp the tiny stick of wood in his fingers and raise it off of the floor.
"Shh," he continued, putting the tooth-pick sized wand back into her tiny, eager hand as she hooted excitedly, "calm down and then slowly and confidently return yourself to human form, please."
After a few moments, she managed to do so and her normal body reappeared. Her cheeks were blazing bright red, her eyes were shining with unshed tears and her breath was coming in ragged gasps. She pushed herself angrily off the bed and ran to the door, apparently meaning to flee the room in disgrace.
"The door’s still locked," he called after her. "Might as well come back and talk to me about this."
Helena sighed and wiped away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks as she stood before the door. She was absolutely humiliated, and couldn’t bear to turn around and submit herself to further derision.
She froze as she heard Snape’s bare feet padding across the floor, approaching her.
He placed a hand upon her shoulder. "Come now, you really did rather well. There’s a reason why animagi are so rare, you know. It takes an extraordinary amount of concentration and magical ability to accomplish it." He moved his hand to brush her hair aside so that he could plant a light kiss on her neck.
She reluctantly allowed him to lead her back to the center of the room.
But, the bed had disappeared, and in its place was a large, comfortable looking sofa upholstered in black leather. Snape sat down at one end and Helena plopped herself, unhappily, at the other, bringing her legs up and underneath her. In front of the couch was a table, and with a wave of his wand Snape conjured up two mugs of steaming cocoa upon it. He picked up both of them and went to hand her one. She crossed her arms and glared at him suspiciously.
"Want to switch cups?" he offered.
Her expression didn’t change.
"Drink out of the same one?"
"I doubt that would matter much as the Veritaserum Antidote is still protecting you," she muttered.
"I assure you that the only thing that is in here is a trace of fine Irish Whiskey," he protested. Then he laughed and placed the mug he had offered to her back on the table. "But, have it your way."
After a few moments of silence, with Helena sulking and Snape sipping, the girl sighed and stretched her legs out in front of her on the couch until her feet were nearly touching him. "So, what am I doing wrong?"
He placed his own cup down on the table and turned to regard her with amusement. "You ask that as if you assume that personal transfiguration is something that I am able to do. You must be aware of the fact that I am not a registered animagus?" he prompted.
Helena sneered. "I somehow doubt the fact that you’ve neglected to register yourself means that you can’t do it," she scoffed. "All the students are convinced that you are quite able to turn yourself into a bat and flit around the school. Which is why you are always turning up when we least expect you," she continued.
"A bat?" he replied, feigned shock in his voice. "Why, Miss Harrison, there’s a certain connotation to that particular bit of transfiguration," he teased.
She looked over at him and allowed a small smile to play upon her lips. "Well, I admit, I was just a little anxious the first time that you kissed me on my neck."
He reached over to pick up his cup again. "Ah, I thought so," he murmured, as he took another sip.
"But, it has to be something black, and I think it is something that can fly," she ventured.
He looked up at her and shrugged. "You’re allowed three guesses. And you’ve made one already."
She frowned and looked pointedly at his large nose.
"A raven," she guessed quietly.
He shook his head and put the cup back down on the table. "Only one more guess to go," he warned.
She brought a hand up to her mouth and chewed distractedly at a fingernail for a moment. Her mind was working furiously, trying to think what other kind of bird he might be. Her eyes traveled down his figure, noting once again the contrast between his brightly white shirt and dark black pants. She started to laugh.
"What?" he questioned, his own eyes full of mistrust.
"A penguin!" she blurted out, throwing back her head and laughing. She was being entirely facetious of course. The thought of that graceful, gliding walk of his being replaced by the wobbling, waddling gait of that ungainly bird struck her as extremely funny. After a moment, she managed to stop laughing and she admitted, "I give up!" She brought her head back down and looked at him.
But her lover was no longer in human form. Instead, on the other end of the sofa sat a large, graceful bird covered in feathers of the deepest black. She gasped, both in surprise at his quick transformation and at the sheer beauty of his form. Tentatively, she stretched out her hand, and the bird bent its long, graceful neck towards it. She slowly let her hand slide all along the soft, elegant figure.
Then she drew her hand back and applauded.
The next instant, Snape had reappeared in his usual form, a small smile of triumph playing on his lips as he exulted in how easily he had managed the transfiguration.
"Well, Professor, I guess the ugly duckling really can manage to change into a beautiful swan. As long as it’s a black one!" she teased.
He rolled his eyes.
Helena’s own eyes suddenly widened as a thought struck her. "I’ve seen you swimming on the lake!" she exclaimed. She was sure of it. She closed her eyes and remembered seeing the graceful bird gliding so beautifully across the still surface of the water, and immediately related the movement to Snape’s elegant manner of moving about on his own feet.
He smiled. "Yes, you have. And, it would seem to me that the reason I’ve never caught you in the owlery is that whenever you’ve heard me approaching you’ve managed to hide your self away amongst the others?"
She laughed. "Oh, yes. I grant that by myself I wouldn’t fool anyone, but put me in a roomful of other owls, and I can ‘blend in’ so to speak."
She smiled and leaned towards him, her hand running from the top of his head down across his neck in an echo of the caress she had bestowed upon him while he was in avian form.
"So, how do you manage it?" she asked eagerly.
"In the first place, without a wand in my hand," he answered.
She nodded. "I know, but I just couldn’t seem to start the change happening without it."
"Well, it’s important to always have your wand in your clothing when you’re transfiguring," he continued. "You do use its magic, in an indirect way. But, the very act of holding it in your fingers means that you can not let the transformation proceed completely. It keeps you from completely imagining yourself as the animal you are trying to change yourself into if you’re dependent upon your human hands."
"So, you have to-"
"And in the second place," he said, rising to his feet and stretching tiredly. "It is far too late to discuss anything further."
She looked vastly disappointed.
He looked down at her, and for the first time she noticed a thin line of stubble had formed on his chin and cheeks. "We’ll meet next week and I’ll begin your full instruction, but for now-"
He leaned over and kissed her. "Could you please let me try and get a few hours sleep?"
She smiled and nodded. "Where and when?"
He considered the question for a moment. "Next Monday evening. By the Forbidden Forest."
Her look of disappointment intensified. She assumed that meant he had no intention of trying to see her again until then.
He looked around, searching for his own shoes and socks. Finding them, he sat back down on the sofa to put them on.
"Do you really not want me to call you by your first name?" she asked suddenly.
He grimaced slightly. "I would rather you not fall into the habit using it. Since it would be most awkward for someone to accidentally overhear you address me by it."
She snorted. "Do you really think I’d be that careless?"
He shrugged. "If you think of me as ‘Severus’ rather than ‘Professor Snape’, it does increase the chances that you would."
"But, when we’re alone together-" she began.
He laughed. "I especially fail to see why you have to call me by my first name in that situation. If you wish to cry out something in passion as your orgasm peaks, may I suggest you just blurt it out, and I will be able to safely assume you are talking to me." He paused for a moment. "Unless, of course, we are not the only people occupying the bed."
She blinked and looked at him uncertainly. "Are you planning on a threesome?"
He smiled maliciously. "Well, you know, that roommate of yours, Miss Carver, is a rather pretty young witch, isn’t she?"
"Angelique?" Her mouth was open in outrage, uncertain if he was teasing or seriously asking her to contemplate the possibility. Unable to decide, she contented herself with continuing with, "Well, she’s good-looking, but as flat as an ironing board!"
"Ah, well," he smirked. "Feast on the one hand, famine on the other."
Helena couldn’t keep herself from smiling as she contemplated the picture of herself and Angelique lying on either side of him, his hands playing on both their respective bosoms.
Snape arose from the sofa and went back towards his desk chair, apparently to retrieve his robe from the back of the chair.
"If you’re really eager to make it a trio, how about Lewis?" she asked lightly.
She was instantly rewarded by the sight of Snape freezing in mid-step, his back immediately stiffening in anger. She saw his right hand clench tightly for a moment, and then he forced it open to reach out for the robe. He hastily threw his robe on and kept his back determinedly towards her as he buttoned up the front.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Thurston," he said, slowly and deliberately.
The smile she was wearing quickly faded away when she saw the look that was on his face when he suddenly turned back towards her.
"That little game will end right now," he said, icily.
She nodded and dropped her eyes.
*** Oops, that was a little too far. Better be quiet and get the hell out of here as quickly as you can, girl. ***
She heard him stride angrily towards her, and a moment later his hand was gripped tightly on her chin, jerking her head up as he forced her to look at him.
"Was I too obtuse with my warning before?"
She tried to shake her head, but he was holding her jaw so firmly that she couldn’t move.
"Let me repeat myself. I am very possessive about the things that belong to me. And as long as you are sharing my bed, you will NOT let another man touch you, is that clear enough?"
Some of the fear drained away from her eyes and was replaced with a sudden and intense anger.
"I am not your property," she hissed.
He released his hold and drew his arms up to cross them mockingly across his body. "If you don’t like my terms, you are free at any time to end this affair. But, do not flatter yourself for an instant with the thought that I would allow myself to be cuckolded. My entire professional and personal reputation would be ruined if the slightest hint of our involvement were to become public knowledge. So, please forgive me if I insist that you show me a modicum of respect by agreeing to be faithful to me?"
"And do you also intend to be monogamous?" she challenged.
He laughed harshly. "I think I mentioned to you during our first intercourse that it had been ‘quite a while’ for me. Unfortunately, my present situation has ensured that, other than an occasional visit to a suitably discreet brothel, I have lived most of the past years in excruciating celibacy."
He leaned forward over her. "Don’t look so upset. I’m sure that next year, when you are attending the university, you will have an entire stable of men waiting at your beck and call to satisfy you. And I will try my best to be as inventive and creative as possible during our time together."
"You’re the one who kept insisting that I consider Lewis as an alternative!" she protested.
"Yes." He smiled unpleasantly. "You were quite hurt at the time that I seemed to be so unconcerned as to whether or not I would fuck you again." His smile broadened. "Which is one of the reasons you were so eager to prove to yourself and to me how much I really did want that moist little cunt of yours squirming around my prick. And you succeeded admirably," he mocked.
"However," he continued, his eyes glimmering furiously, "that does not mean that I will ever allow you to touch or kiss Mr. Thurston in front of me like you did in class today." His voice was low and ominous.
"Why, what will you do?" she challenged. "Lock me in a room again?"
His smile turned cold. "You misunderstand me, Helena."
She stared at him with her eyes narrowed.
"I wouldn’t do a thing…..to you," he added, quietly.
She paled and her eyes widened as she comprehended the threat of his last words.
"No, you wouldn’t! That’s not fair, it’s not his fault-" she began.
"Then don’t do anything that marks him as a target for me," he replied, grimly.
After a few moments of silence, he stepped towards the couch and bent over her, his arms grasping the back of the sofa on either side of her head.
"I trust we understand each other now?"
"Yes," she whispered, not looking at him.
He nodded and straightened up. "Let’s go. I’ll walk you to the top of the dungeon steps."
"You don’t need to do that," she hissed angrily.
"Oh, I’m not being gallant. There are innumerable booby-traps along the corridors that automatically set themselves up after dark," he assured her. "Wouldn’t want you to find yourself trapped somewhere and be found by Filch in the morning. Might raise a few questions that we prefer not be asked?"
He strode over to the door and used his wand to unlock it, and waited for her to rise out of the chair and follow him out into the corridor.
The hallway was pitch black, and she found herself clutching at his sleeve as he led the way. Although she had been through the passage innumerable times during her seven years at Hogwarts, she was completely disorientated and had to rely on him to lead her the whole way. Finally, they came to the steps that led up to the main floor corridor. Snape paused just a moment before throwing open the door that led out of the dungeon area.
"I will meet you at the Forbidden Forest at eight o’clock next week Monday. Do not attempt to rendezvous with me before then."
He opened the door, and she stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.
"I trust you can make your way from here?"
She nodded, but he hadn’t really waited for a reply. The door had closed behind him and she stood staring at it for a moment, before turning on her heel and proceeding back to the Ravenclaw quarters.
She glanced at her watch. It was after four o’clock now, and by the time she got up to her room and undressed she’d have barely an hour and a half to sleep before her alarm went off. She sighed and moved as quickly and quietly as she could through the empty, still corridors.
As she entered the Ravenclaw Common Room, she saw that someone was lying on the couch in front of the large fireplace. It was Lewis, and he’d apparently fallen asleep while studying, as his transfiguration book was lying open on the floor beside him.
She walked silently up to him and looked at him sadly. He had decided to keep the beard, and he looked very handsome with it. He also looked very young and innocent. She shivered for a moment as she allowed herself to consider just what Snape might to do him as retribution for her own behavior. She sighed and nodded sadly. She was going to have to talk to Lewis sometime this week and make it clear that they could only be friends.
There was an afghan flung over the back of the sofa, and she gently and carefully unfolded and placed it over the boy’s sleeping form. And then she headed towards the back of the room to climb the staircase up to her own room.
After her footsteps had faded away, the young man’s eyes abruptly opened and another sigh was heard in the room. He glanced down at his wristwatch and frowned. And then he pushed himself unto his back and lay still again, his face betraying the fact that his thoughts were deeply troubled.
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Secretly Slytherin