Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Spy vs. Spy	By : Sakuracelt Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 15746 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter, or any of JK Rowling's characters. This is just fanfiction, and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
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  Snape watched from several yards away as Freya frowned down at her shopping list. He’d been following her all day on Dumbledore’s orders, and thus far it had been fairly uneventful. She’d stopped by the Apothecary and bought several vials of potion ingredients, including the items required for sleeping draught, and was now perusing the aisles of Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment, her eyes lingering on a set of tiny silver scales. Freya was wearing a rather frumpy set of green tartan robes, which he assumed she’d borrowed for the occasion. They buttoned all the way up to her chin, and must have been uncomfortable, for she kept tugging at the collar and fidgeting with the sleeves. Eventually she settled on a practical set of pewter scales, as well as a very small paring knife. He watched her carefully through the shop window as she paid for them.
Everything she purchased disappeared into a handsome leather satchel that had been enchanted to hold far more than it should have. Albus had given her an advance so that she could procure whatever she needed for the new term, as she’d left all of her possessions behind. She’d been hesitant at first, but ultimately eager to be out of doors again. Being cooped up in the hospital wing could drive you mad, especially when there was so much to prepare for. Lupin had insisted on accompanying her, but she’d declined, saying that she could use an evening without being fussed over. He couldn’t blame her. The werewolf had developed the highly annoying habit of always hanging about whenever Severus tried to get her alone again.
The witch herself was maddening. She was always smirking at him, as though sharing a private joke, or teasing him in front of the others. He hated the knowing glances she and Professor Sprout always gave each other when they thought he wouldn’t notice, and the way she’d insisted on being introduced to every single ghost in the castle, including Peeves, who’d pulled a silly face and made her giggle. The other day, he’d walked into Dumbledore’s office, only to find the two of them knitting together, of all things. Her eyes had become quite large when she’d seen him, and her cheeks had flushed slightly pink before she’d mumbled an excuse and left. He hated that, as well. He particularly hated that it was so very hard for him to tear his eyes away from her, even now as she navigated her way through the busy cobblestone street. Her hair had been swept up into a practical twist, and his eyes lingered on the back of her neck. She paused outside of Madam Malkin’s, looked down at herself, and went inside. As before, he watched her through the window. The shop witch seemed very pleased to see her, and they shared a girlish laugh at the ill-fitting robes. Madam Malkin had a lovely time picking things out for Freya’s judgment. His eyes narrowed with interest as she selected a particularly low cut bit of plum colored lingerie. Freya laughed, and waved it away.
            Severus was very good at his job, and thus far Freya had failed to notice him. It hadn’t been easy. More than once, she’d stopped to look over her shoulder as if she’d heard him. He was tempted to use an invisibility charm, but refrained. He wore a long black cloak with a deep hood to obscure his face, but surely someone would notice if the tall figure were to suddenly vanish. In spite of a clean bill of health, Freya was still twitchy. At first she’d jumped at the slightest sound, and when a large wizard had bumped into her outside Eeylops Owl Emporium, he saw her reach for her wand instinctively. Her eyes had finally lost their hunted look, but she was clearly still haunted by the events that had led her here. The sights and sounds of Diagon Alley had clearly helped though, and after buying what seemed like every damned book from Flourish and Blotts, she seemed to have calmed down immensely.
            The door he’d been watching suddenly opened with a sharp ringing of shop bells, and Madam Malkin herself swooped into the alleyway with Freya in tow. The witch had traded her borrowed robes for a sleeveless black dress trimmed with lace, and warm woolen stockings tucked into tall black boots that laced up to her knees. The dress appeared to be silk, and would have been quite inappropriate for cool weather, but she’d bought a pair of long grey fingerless gloves, and a very thick knitted cowl in emerald green. She almost looked like a completely different witch. His gaze lingered on her backside appreciatively as Freya gave Madam Malkin a grateful embrace. To the untrained eye, it appeared to be a completely normal interaction, but Severus saw the tiny note that Freya slipped into the shopkeeper’s pocket.
            “Freya?! Is that really you?” A voice cried out. Snape glared in annoyance at the small gaggle of Weasleys that advanced. Today was a poor day for espionage. There were too many students around. Scowling, he slunk back into a darkened alcove, and watched from the corner of his eye. Freya turned to the owner of the voice, and gave a small shout of alarm as Charlie Weasley embraced her in his large, muscular arms, and twirled her around.
            “I…hello. Charlie?” She said uncertainly, her brow furrowing slightly. The copper haired wizard gave her a roguish grin. Clearly they were old friends of a sort, but Snape saw the awkwardness in her smile.
            “How long have you been back? I haven’t heard from you in years! Last I heard you were somewhere in India.”
            “Oh! Well, yes I was. That was after New Zealand, I think.”
            “Planning on staying home for a spell, I hope? Damn, you look good!” He chuckled in a friendly way, but Snape saw the way his eyes flickered up and down her figure. Anger coiled tightly in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like the way he was ogling her, nor did he like the faint blush that was spreading across her cheeks.
            “Charlie, aren’t you going to introduce us to your…ahem…friend?” One of the Weasley twins asked in a tone that Severus did not like either.
            “Ahh. Right. Freya, this is Fred and George, and my sister Ginny.” He motioned to the young girl at his side. “Weasleys, this is Freya. We were at school together.” Snape frowned at this. Surely he would have remembered if Freya had been a student at Hogwarts.
            “Never mentioned her, did you Charlie?” Fred asked impudently.
            “Well, she never looked like that at Hogwarts…ah...” Charlie started with a laugh, and then he stopped as he realized what he’d just said. Snape couldn’t help but smile. Blithering dolt. Go back to your dragons, Weasley. Charlie’s face turned the color of a radish, as Freya lifted an eyebrow at him. “Look, I didn’t mean…It’s just that you’ve…What I meant, Freya…”
            “It’s alright. I know what you meant. “ She replied gently, her smile now much chillier than it had been. “Fred, George, and Ginny, right? I’m afraid you’ll be seeing more of me very soon. I’ve accepted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts.” The effect this news had was different with each Weasley. Fred and George’s faces broke into enormous grins at Charlie’s look of utter embarrassment, while Ginny didn’t seem to know how to respond. “Don't worry Charlie. I'm even less interested now than I was then, if that's even possible. Please excuse me…” She turned her back on them and started to walk away, then stopped and added “Oh and don’t bother buying the DADA book this year, Weasleys. You won’t need it.”
            Snape watched in amusement, as Charlie Weasley turned purple in humiliation. Freya walked with the confidence that all women radiate when they’ve shot down a man who deserved it, her hips swaying tantalizingly in a way that said “take a long look at what you can’t have, you idiot.” The twins began to laugh uproariously at their brother’s expense.
            “What a lady killer you are, Charlie!” George teased.
            “You really are a moron sometimes.” Ginny snapped.
            “Are you sure, Ginny?” Fred asked. “Doesn’t every woman want to hear how ugly she was at school?”
            “She wasn’t ugly, she was just…odd.” Charlie’s weak attempt to defend himself was met with more laughter. “Look, I was seeker of the Gryffindor quidditch team, and she was just this…” Ginny glared up at her older brother. “She just drew all the time! She only had a few friends, and they were all weird. I liked her well enough, I just…well you know how it is!”
            Snape had heard enough Weasley talk. Pulling his hood more securely over his head, he continued after Freya with a deep scowl etched on his face. The thought that Freya had at one time been his student was deeply unsettling. As for Charlie Weasley…well he’d seen his kind come and go. Gryffindor seeker, indeed. As if that truly meant anything. The popular ones never did pay much attention to outcasts like Freya. Outcasts like him. Freya’s boots clicked loudly on the cobblestones, when she suddenly stopped, and looked around. He almost froze, but knew that if he did, she’d notice him, so instead he walked past her as if he had business ahead, then ducked into a shop across the street, and watched her from the window. She pulled her green cowl over her head like a hood, and then when she was sure no one was watching, she ducked into Nocturn Alley.
            Snape started with surprise, and swiftly ran after her down the twisted grey corridor, quietly muttering a charm to muffle his footsteps on the cobblestones. The light faded as the alleyway grew narrow and crooked. He was careful to keep his distance. She swept inside Borgin and Burkes as a couple of hags crossed his path, whispering nastily to each other and glaring up at him. He followed her into the shop, whispering the incantation to a disillusionment charm as he did. Now would not be the time to be recognized. He watched Freya peruse the dusty shelves, as if interested in making a purchase, but he saw the way her eyes flickered to the shopkeeper, Mr Borgin. Severus followed her, watching the way her hips swayed gently when she walked. She stopped in front of a shelf of potions, and selected a small glass vial that was shaped like a naked woman. The liquid inside was pitch black. Borgin finished ringing up a customer, and the shop was now empty except for the three of them.
            “In need of assistance, Miss?” Mr. Borgin leered at her, and then gave a small shout of surprise when she turned to face him. “You!” He exclaimed warily. “How…how nice it is to see you again, miss…”
            “Shut up.” She snarled. With a flick of her wrist, her wand was out and at her command, the blinds of the shop window snapped closed. Approaching the ugly shopkeeper, she placed the bottle on the counter, then reached into her bag and pulled out an object. Severus crept closer to get a better look. It was a simple, black leather collar with a silver metal ring attached to the front, but at the sight of it his cock hardened so quickly that for a moment he was dizzy. It was a slave collar, used for sexual dominance, and immediately he thought of Freya writhing helplessly in his bedchamber with the collar locked around her soft white throat. Was she a submissive? He smirked. How interesting.
            “This…” Freya hissed at the shopkeeper “was sent to me last night.”
“That…that’s not one of ours, Miss. If you’d like I can show you our selection…” He started, his voice an octave higher than it had been. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and yanked him bodily forward so that their noses almost touched. The wizard’s knees knocked shakily against the back of the counter, as if his feet had left the ground. She was stronger than she looked. “Please, Miss I don’t…” Without warning, she smacked him hard with the collar. It left a nasty red welt in its wake.
“I know he was here, you disgusting little man.” She said darkly, her features twisting with rage. Severus saw the fear in her eyes, even though Borgin did not. “When you see him, you tell him I came to visit you. “ She held the collar up to his face. He had to cross his eyes to look at it. “You tell him he’s a dead man. Tell him I’m ready.” She released her hold on his shirt, and flung the collar in his face. Then she reached into her bag and produced a few silver sickles, which she tossed on the floor before pocketing her potion. The door squealed as she left, but Severus was close behind, still barely visible to the naked eye. He hesitated, considering apparating back to Hogwarts to make his report, but he was too intrigued by what he’d just witnessed. Snape decided to follow her even deeper into nocturne alley, past all manner of menacing witches and wizards, who were all very good at not noticing them, or each other.
Freya turned a corner, and when he followed, he found that they were in a very dark alleyway. They were completely alone. Without warning, she turned on him, her fingers biting into his throat, wand pointing at his nose. Her eyes were huge and angry, her expression livid.
“REVEAL YOURSELF.” She hissed. His skin prickled as his invisibility spell melted away. Her expression became one of shock. “Professor Snape?” She sighed deeply in relief, and took her hand from his throat so she could wipe the sweat from her brow. Then she actually chuckled, somewhat hysterically. “You’re the one who’s been following me around all day. I thought I was going mad. I should have known Albus would send someone to watch me. You’re much better at this spy stuff than I am. Gods, I should have realized.” She hesitated, but finally lowered her wand and placed it back in her pocket. It was quite agitating that she didn’t consider him to be more of a threat. “I’m not here to spy on the Order, Severus. I hope you see that.”
“Who sent you that collar, Freya?” His voice was velvet, and she shuddered, her eyes closing as if in pain. Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly, and his member throbbed at the sight. Where was the ferocious young witch he’d just seen in Borgin and Burkes? One mention of the collar and she’d grown soft as a scared kitten.
“None of your damned business.” She whispered, her voice catching in her throat.
“Was it Crouch?” He asked mockingly. She swung a clenched fist at him, but he caught her wrist, and pinned her irresistibly against the cold stone wall. When he was this close, he could smell her perfume, something sweet and musky, and something else. Arousal, perhaps? He chuckled when she tried to retrieve her wand again, but he pressed himself against her firmly. His hot breath tickled her hear and he felt her shiver against him. “It was him, wasn’t it? Have you been sending him messages, witch? Have you been selling us out to the dark lord?”
“I’d rather die.” She spat. Her voice held so much conviction that he was inclined to believe her.
            “What did he do to you, Freya? How did Barty Crouch Junior win you?” He grinned at her as she squirmed, and looked up at him pleadingly, her lips and cheeks flushing red. “Did he make you wear that collar, Freya?”
            “Please...” She whispered.
            “Or did you put it on willingly?” He teased, pressing his body even tighter against hers, so that she could feel his hardness against her thigh. Her eyes widened in astonishment, and her lips parted ever so slightly. “Did you like it when he…did things to you, Freya?” His hand found the hem of her skirt, and his fingers danced around the flesh of her naked thigh just above her stockings, before reaching around roughly grabbing her ass, and grinding his erection against her stomach. She whimpered slightly, which surprised him. He’d expected more venom from her. “Did he tell you what a pretty slave you were? Hmm?” His free hand was playing with a lock of her hair. She winced from the touch. “Did you wear it while he was fucking you?” She hissed with an intake of breath through clenched teeth, and to his shock, leaned in and pressed her hot, wet lips to his. He pulled away, and stared at her. Her lids were lidded, and her breaths short.
            “I…I want…” She panted. He swooped in for another kiss, savagely biting her lower lip. She moaned heavily into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to tease her tongue with his own. It was such a cold evening, and her body was so warm against his. He could feel her nipples harden through the fabric of her dress, and he reached up to pinch one roughly. She broke the kiss suddenly and gasped. “We...we shouldn’t.” He growled and bent his head to kiss the warm flesh of her neck. She gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders when he bit down. Her legs parted willingly in response to his stroking fingers, which were now teasing her through her panties. She shuddered hard, and kissed him again, muffling a sweet cry when he pushed aside the fabric, and found her sweet wet cunt. He moaned almost as hard as she did when he slid two fingers deep inside of her. Freya’s eyes rolled up into her head, and closed as he began pumping in and out of her.
            “Your pussy is so tight, witch.” He growled into her hair. “Did little Barty Junior like this tight pussy? Or did he prefer your ass?” Her eyes snapped open and she tried to slap him in the face but he captured her lips again in a ferocious kiss. His cock was impossibly hard as he began rubbing her clit with his thumb. He wanted to fuck her so badly. She whimpered deliciously, and her hips rocked with his motions. Reaching up to her face, he traced her lips with his thumb, and hissed sharply when she took it into her mouth, sucking on it gently as he continued to thrust deep inside of her. She was trembling hard and he knew she was close. On a whim, he replaced his thumb with two fingers, and slid those into her mouth, mimicking what he was doing to her pussy. She moaned again, biting him gently. Gods, she was so submissive. It took every ounce of self-control not to throw her to the ground and take her from behind like a bitch in heat. He slipped his fingers from her mouth, and plunged a third finger inside of her. The walls of her pussy clenched tightly as she came, then she collapsed against him, trembling. When he withdrew, his fingers were dripping wet, and he sucked on each one, enjoying the musky taste of her. He tilted her chin upwards so she would see. “I’m going to make you mine, witch.” She stared at him, and without a word, placed a hand on the front of his trousers where his erection strained against the fabric. She squeezed hard, and he hissed in discomfort.
            “That’s what you think. Don’t follow me again.” She sneered. Then suddenly, she disapparated, leaving him completely alone.
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Spy vs. Spy