Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Stress Relief	By : pittwitch Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 29374 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the world or characters of Harry Potter. I make absolutely no money from this.

Chapter List
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The witch practically flew around her room, changing clothes and tossing some items in a small satchel.

Marie, breathless and flushed, rushed in with a small amulet on a gold chain dangling from her fingertips.

“Marie?” she queried as she took the charm.

“A Portkey directly to the island.” Marie took a deep breath to calm herself, then continued. “I will go there and wait, just in case.”

“How did my mother manage …”

Marie cut off her question with a shrug, and a quick hug before answering softly. “Your mother was truly gifted, but this is a family heirloom. It was given to her by your grandmother.”

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, “I have to go, quickly.”

The two women hastily descended the stairs. “I am taking Falan with me.”

“Good, yes, good,” Marie fussed worriedly. “Send word as soon as possible."

“Of course,” she vowed. With a quick kiss to each cheek, Snape’s witch rushed through the door, whistling sharply for her falcon. The bird swooped from its lofty perch zooming to land on his mistress’ heavily gloved hand. She slipped a leather hood over the bird’s eyes, whispering softly, “I know. You don’t like this, but I need your sharp vision, Falan.”

The bird bobbed its head almost as if answering her and gripped more tightly with its lethal talons, prepared for the distasteful mode of transportation that always followed her human’s soft words and the hated hood. With a thunderous crack, the witch and falcon whirled from view, gone in an instant.

Marie slammed the door as they disappeared.

Once back on the grounds of Hogwarts, the witch instantly dropped to her knees, assuming a defensive posture to ascertain any present dangers. As her eyes darted side to side, scanning quickly, she unknotted Falan’s hood, murmuring reassurances to the bird of prey.

“Search for this man,” she whispered fervently as she shared an image of Severus with the bird. With a great rush of wind, the bird took to the air and soared to its search.

The woman hastily removed her glove, stuffing into the plain black satchel she brought. Wand in hand, she cast a spell to enhance her hearing and began to slowly make her way out of the woods. At the edge of the forest, she paused again, kneeling in the dirt to hide and observe. There weren’t any concerning sounds: no shouting, no cries of anguish, no spells crackling through the air. She became even more suspicious and alert, crouching back into the shadowy protection of an oak to try to understand what type of battle she was about to enter.

After an hour or so, Falan returned, alighting softly on a branch above her head and shaking her head dolefully. She had not seen the wizard her mistress requested. The witch held up her arm and the falcon landed softly on the perch.

“All right, Falan. You’ve done well. Hunt, my friend.”

The bird took flight once more, leaving her mistress with tiny punctures in her arm, left over from the sharp tipped talons of her chose familiar. All through the day, the witch waited and watched as Hogwarts business conducted as usual; students milling about nervously as they only dared to pause briefly for quiet conversations between classes. At one point, she spied the same dumpy witch who had so vexed her the previous night. Alecto screeched at a group of students who rushed away from the madwoman. As the day wore on without much remarkable, the witch grew tired and vexed.

As darkness fell, the witch made her move, using the lengthening shadows to her advantage, regaining access to the castle in exactly the same way she had exited so many hours before. Slinking through the corridors, she had to dash into an alcove when she heard footsteps. Peering out through the gathering darkness, she spied her lover, none the worse for wear, gliding along the corridor, his robes swirling about him.

Timing her move quite carefully, the smaller woman used both surprise and her stealth to snatch him mid-stride and thrust him face first against the wall, a knife to his kidney, poised to strike. “Quite well, I see,” she spat.

“Indeed,” he began to yell, then bit back on his volume. “Do you think this is a game,” Snape hissed, gritting his teeth against his anger.

“Does this feel like a toy?” she murmured threateningly as she pressed her cold blade ever so slightly harder against his side.

“Indeed not,” he spat.

“You seem well,” she whispered furiously against his ear. He could feel her entire body tense even further.

“Well enough,” he answered in his softest voice. “You seem angry.”

“Angry is not a strong enough word, Headmaster,” she continued, “Angry, relieved, frightened, furious, sad, wounded, happy and …” she paused and pressed against him just a touch harder, “ … strangely aroused.”

“Nicole,” he began in exasperation.

“Hush!” she commanded, hearing more footsteps. From around the corner, Amycus Carrow strutted like a peacock, humming a strange little tune as he did.

“Who is there?” Carrow called out.

“Who do you think?” snarled Snape as Nicole eased away from him, still holding her blade in her left hand and her wand in her right, hidden in the shadow.

“Ahhh, Snape! Should have known. Off to supervise detentions or some such?” Amycus was abnormally amiable.

“No,” Snape replied dully, glaring at his fellow staff member.

“Oh, well, I am. Look forward to these sessions all day.” He gave a little wave and a nod as he passed by.

Behind Snape’s back, Nicole was swirling her wand over her palm, murmuring an incantation so softly that Snape could only feel her magic, not ascertain her spell. Silently, she stepped around Snape’s back, and blew the spell off of her palm towards Amycus. It hit him square in the back. He staggered into the wall then began laughing uproariously.

“Whoa there, who moved the floor?” he slurred his words and stumbled forward. “Good even’in, Headmashter,” he continued lisping drunkenly, lurching from one side of the hall to the other.

Snape crossed his arms and glared at the wizard’s back. When he was sure Amycus was gone, he whirled on Nicole and demanded, “What did you do?”

“Inebriatum,” she answered very calmly.

“Inebriatum is not a spell,” Snape growled discontentedly.

“Neither were Levicorpus or Sectumsepra until someone thought of them …” she glowered right back with equal menace.

He advanced on her, demanding to know, “How do you know …” Nicole cut him off with her own agitation, “You are a master Occlumens, Severus, but even a master must sleep. Your dreams are quite unguarded.”

“What!” he exclaimed, far beyond dismayed.

“Did you think I was merely naturally intuitive?” she grimaced at him.

“This is …” he rubbed his temple, contemplating how disastrous this newest revelation could be.

“You don’t hold your … well, Him protectively in your sleep do you?” she asked in consternation.

“Of course not!”

“And He is not a natural Legilimens, yes?”

“Not that I am aware of …” Snape stared at her incredulously.

“Then your secrets are safe with me …” she paused and poked him in the chest with one accusatory finger, “ … for now.”

His face softened just a tiny bit. “Why have you returned?”

“Dunderhead!” she exclaimed as she took his arm, moving towards his office. “I came to assure myself that you were safe.”

“Why?”

“Why?” she sputtered. “Because, despite my better judgment, I care, you dolt.”

He stopped and stared at her in amazement. “Care?”

“Yes. I care. Sue me. If I could, I would steal you away and chain you to a wall in my cellars to make sure you were safe.” She smiled to herself. “Of course, I could still do that … keep you naked and ready …”

“Woman!” he barked, “Does your twisted mind always return to matters sexual in nature?”

“Most often,” she teased, pushing him towards the heavy wooden door to his office. “First, you must tell me why I had to leave.”
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Stress Relief