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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- 5
“I examined the body you left in the broom cupboard.” Snape said casually as Freya took her seat next to him at breakfast the following morning. She appraised him with a cool glance, but nodded to acknowledge him. He felt uncharacteristically guilty for entering her mind uninvited, and had left a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey outside the door to her chambers as a means of apology.
“Good morning to you too.” She said while pouring herself a cup of tea.
            “I found nothing that contradicts your story. Filch has backed you, as well. I believe you can be trusted, even if your methods are…crude.” He said tentatively, surprised by how much he hoped this would please her. She gave him a tired smile in response.
            A large screech owl chose that moment to drop something into Freya’s lap. She jumped in surprise, and picked it up. It was a large bouquet of daisies. Snape stiffened at the sight of the note that accompanied it, for the words “I’m sorry I was a prat- Sincerely, Charlie Weasely” were written on it in gold ink. Professor Sprout, who was sitting on Freya’s opposite side, gave the witch a conspiratorial grin, and nudged her with her elbow. Freya fought back a grin of her own, but the two women leaned closer together and actually giggled like schoolgirls. Jealousy coiled tightly in Severus’ belly like a black serpent.
            “Daisies?” He sneered nastily. “Too cheap for roses, was he?”
            Freya considered him for a moment, amusement dancing on the corner of her mouth. Pamona Sprout actually snorted with laughter into her tea, and he realized he’d made a mistake. Freya shrugged nonchalantly, but he saw the faint blush that crept over her cheekbones, and it annoyed him greatly. She produced a pair of wooden needles from somewhere in her robes, and began knitting away at what appeared to be a sock.
            “What will you do?” Sprout asked her.
            “Write back I suppose.” She replied.
            “Ooooh will you go out with him?”
            “It’s an apology, not a proposal.” Freya said with a sigh. “I was hard on him when we saw bumped into each other.”
            “He was handsome, I do recall.” Sprout added coyly.
            “Oh he still is, I suppose.” She said airily. It was difficult for Snape to act indifferent. He wondered if she was trying to annoy him intentionally. Her lips were curled in a feline smile. “I’ve reinstated the dueling club.” She added, as though determined to change the subject.
            “Oh…” Professor Sprout frowned. “Are you sure that’s wise, dear?” Past attempts at instating this particular sport had not ended terribly well.
            Freya laughed. “Not at all. I could pretend that I’m doing it for educational purposes, but the truth is…”here she sighed. “I’m tired of students taking out their aggressions in my classroom. If they want to hex each other to oblivion, let them do it out in the open.”
            “A bit draconian, even for you.” Snape snorted. In truth, he had been supportive of the dueling club for years, but all the talk of Charlie Weasley had irritated him much more than he wanted to admit.
            “Really? I was hoping you would assist me. The first meeting is today.” She glanced at him slyly.
            “I’m busy.” He lied.
            “Ah well. I suppose I can manage.” She said with an air of forced indifference. Snape watched her from the corner of his eye. He had hoped that his gift of firewhiskey would be enough to warm her up a bit, but now…There was silence for a long moment, except for the click, click, clicking of her knitting needles. His fork clattered to his plate, a bit too loudly. He turned to snap at her, but she’d already put her knitting away and was standing up to leave. “Please excuse me, Pamona. I have a class to prepare for. Dueling will commence at three, in the fourth floor for anyone who cares to join.” She added sharply, glaring at him before turning away.
            He stared at her with frustration. She was clearly still furious with him, but still wanted his help? Make up your damned mind, witch. Hermione Granger, who appeared to have several questions about an assignment, was preventing Freya from storming off the way she’d clearly intended to. Professor Sprout cleared her throat, and when he looked at her, she was staring at him reproachfully.
            “What?” He snapped.
            “You can’t possibly be that thick.” She said. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Pomona Sprout had a reputation for being one of the kindest teachers at Hogwarts. It wasn’t like her to insult him openly.
            “Oh?” He was affronted, but mildly amused.
            “She wants you to go after her.” Her eyes flicked at Freya meaningfully. “So hop to it.” He scowled at her, then swept down the dais, passed Freya who looked up at him in mild alarm, and left the great hall, feeling her eyes boring into him. He would be damned if he’d crawl after her for forgiveness.
            Naturally, he did find himself sidling onto the fourth floor where dueling practice was being held, although it was well after three. He couldn’t seem to resist. Apparently Freya’s classes had become rather popular, because there were several students from all four houses. They had paired up, and were practicing knock-back jinxes. Several of them noticed his arrival, but Freya was not one of them. Ron Weasley was so distracted by the way Snape swept in with his robes billowing, that he completely failed to block Hermione Granger, who sent him flying backwards, landing heavily at Severus’ feet. He raised an eyebrow, and stepped over him with a frown of disgust. Freya was watching Neville Longbottom as he struggled to deflect Luna Lovegood’s attacks. He fell back every single time. With a look of concern, she stopped them, and took a hard look at Longbottom.
            “Whose wand is that?” She asked.
            “My…my dad’s.” He replied shakily.
            “Did it choose you?”
            “Well…no. But my Gran said...”
            “Well that explains a few things, doesn’t it?” She sounded exasperated as she took the boy by the shoulders. “Ask your Gran for a new wand. I’ll write her a note myself if that will help. Neville, your dad would want you to reach your potential, but you can’t do that with a wand that fights you every time you use it.” Neville gaped at her, but she had already turned to the Weasley twins, who were making quite a show of jinxing each other so that the other’s hair would turn different colors. Snape glowered at her, the anger in his belly slowly growing to an inferno. She was ignoring him. He had come to her stupid dueling club, and she wouldn’t even look at him. She’d asked to see George Weasley (whose hair was now an electric blue) block his brother’s jinx, but he’d landed flat on his bum. Now she was standing behind him, correcting his stance with gentle nudges here and there. Snape’s nostrils flared. The wink that passed between the twins was infuriating. He watched as she placed her hand on top of his, directing his wand arm to make the correct motions. Snape was seething with rage as he drew his wand, and was about to fire a hex at her unprotected back.
            “EXPELLIARMUS!” Someone shouted. Snape’s wand flew from his hand, and clattered beside him. Everyone went silent, and turned to stare at him. Neville was pointing his now trembling wand at him, his face suddenly white with terror. Snape glared at the boy until he lowered it. Freya looked immensely pleased.
            “WELL DONE, Neville!” She walked over to Severus, and picked up his wand. Her eyes were narrowed as she handed it back to him. When he took it, his fingers brushed her and she pulled back as though he’d burned her. They both knew what needed to be done. He’d been about to jinx her when her back was turned, and some students had seen. It would not do to have those rumors spreading throughout the school. Better to use this as a teaching moment. Snape pulled off his outer robes, and tossed them aside, leaving him in his frock coat. Freya did the same. Beneath her robes she wore a simple black sleeveless top that showed off the tattoos that swirled down her shoulders. Her black jeans were tucked into soft black dragonhide boots. The students gasped, and hurried to get out of the way, pressing themselves to the walls and clamoring for a better look. He waited for her to pull her hair back into a knot, then they took their stances, and saluted each other with their wands.
            “Shall we?” She asked darkly, raising an eyebrow at him
            “Indeed.” He replied snarkily.
            Freya did not hesitate. She slashed her wand through the air, and a burst of white-hot sparks flew at his face. He dodged them, and bellowed an impediment jinx. She blocked it and countered easily with the same dagger-throwing curse she’d favored the night they’d met. This time her aim was better. He waved most of them to dust, but one of them grazed his cheek before it disappeared. Blood started to trickle down his face. Students gasped. He threw a large green fireball towards her, but she threw herself to the side. It exploded on the far wall, and she was on her feet again, quick as a cat. Several students whooped with excitement, and started shouting out encouragement.
            “Levicorpus!” She cried. He stumbled momentarily, but managed to block the spell that would have had him dangling from his ankles. He countered with a furious stream of hot water that turned to steam when she made a complicated figure eight movement with her wand. They were well matched. Fred and George were soon taking bets. A bolt of lightening burst from his wand, but it crackled harmlessly against the invisible shield she’d raised just in time. Beams of red light singed his hair ever so slightly, but bounced off the wall behind him, causing several Gryffindors to duck. They were essentially fencing now, casting spells to test each other’s mettle, rather than to harm. It was a dangerous dance indeed, but to them it was more intoxicating than any foreplay. This was what they had trained for as spies, after all. Snape moved like a panther, his muscles tensing and relaxing like the most deadly predator, but she was graceful and agile as she dodged some of his best hexes. A wickedly green snake made of light slithered from his wand and began viciously spitting acid. Several drops hissed on the toes of Freya’s boots, but the dragon hide was impervious. With a sharp laugh, she dismissively waved her own wand, and to everyone’s surprise, a bright yellow badger bounded out of it, and stood on its hind legs, hissing menacingly. The snakes dove for it instantly, and all of the figures burst into red flames and disappeared.
            Snape couldn’t help but grin, even as several long shards of ice flew at his face, but he stepped aside and swiped his wand downwards before them, and they burst into a cloud of snow that started gently fluttering over all of them. A gaggle of Ravenclaw girls cooed at the sparkling sight, and Freya smiled at him. A genuine smile that made delicious warmth spread through his body. Several glittering snowflakes landed in her fiery red hair, and he found the sight entrancing, but suddenly she wasn’t looking at him anymore, but behind him. Blaise Zabini had crept behind Neville Longbottom, his wand at the ready. Clearly he had taken a leaf from Snape’s book, and was about to hex the boy’s unprotected back. Freya slashed her wand sharply in his direction, sending the bully flying backwards with a satisfying THUNK. The boy scowled up at her as the other students laughed. Snape siezed the opportunity like a good Slytherin, and whispered a curse of his own design.
            “Orgao-gauden.”
            The curse hit her squarely in the chest. Freya’s entire body appeared to freeze for a moment, her eyes turning to glassy pools. She gasped sharply, and fell to her knees, then looked up at him with a strange, bewildered expression. Fred and George rushed to her aid, and lifted her back to her feet by the elbows. She nodded in silent thanks. The students were gaping at them, looking from one teacher to the other. They’d all seen the spell hit her, but it hadn’t appeared to actually do anything.
            “What have you…?” She gasped again, and her entire body shivered.
            “Do you surrender, witch?” He asked in a sultry tone. There were several cries of outrage from the students.
            “That’s not fair! She was helping me!” Neville blurted out. His fellow Gryffindors agreed loudly, much to the amusement of the Slytherins. Several arguments broke out at once, but Freya shook her head and motioned for silence.
            “Your Potions Master saw an opportunity, and he took it. Take note. His strategy might not buy him any favors, but the real world is not a dueling ring. Yes, professor Snape, I yield.” They turned to each other, and saluted again to mark the end of the duel. “The next meeting will be Thursday. Same time. For those of you who are in my class, I will give extra credit to those who can list at least five of the spells you saw today, as well as their counter spells. Dismissed!” Some of the students groaned with disappointment as they shuffled from the room. Freya waited until the last of the herd had gone, than turned back to him with a frown. “What spell did you…” Her eyes widened and she gave a small cry, but it was not a cry of pain. Snape smirked with deep satisfaction as she swayed like a drunken woman, and gasped. She fell to the floor again, her body quivering. Her eyes were wild, staring down at herself as though her body wasn’t her own, but then they snapped closed, and she bit her lip, head rolling back with either pleasure or torment. The sight pleased him greatly. His cock became rigid as he watched her with cruel delight. Her breathing became heavy and ragged, but every time she tried to speak, nothing but sweet moans escaped her lips. Snape chuckled with dark satisfaction.
            “A gift for you.”
            “I don’t…it feels like…”
            “Yes witch?”
            “It feels like I’m gonna…” She gasped sharply, but whimpered in disappointment.
            “My own design, I’m afraid.” He raised an eyebrow at her, greatly amused by the look of mounting horror on her face. Lifting her chin, he gazed into her eyes and traced her lower lip with his thumb. “It’s going to tease your delicate flesh, my dear, as you’ve no doubt already discovered. My spell will weaken you with pleasure, and it will continue to bring you closer…” she whimpered again “…and closer…but it will not allow you to feel release no matter how much you try.” He laughed at her again. “There is a counter-curse, naturally. Shall I cure you?”
            “Bastard.” She whispered, chest heaving and lips gloriously flushed. With the wave of his wand, the door to the classroom thunked closed, and locked with a sharp click.
            “Insults will not help you, witch.” He breathed softly, watching hotly as another wave of pleasure washed over his victim. She was trying desperately to maintain composure, but he had designed the curse to strengthen as she resisted it. “Now…however will you convince me?” His tone was mocking, and she glared at him, but there was an undeniable lust in her gaze. She was on her knees, hands resting on the tops of her thighs. Moaning softly, she tilted her head towards the ceiling, eyes screwed tight as his spell continued to stroke her like a hundred wet and searing tongues on the most sensitive parts of her body. Her fingers leapt to her scalp to run through her now slightly damp hair, but they clenched into fists as another wave struck her. Her body slid backwards until she was lying breathlessly upon the cold stone floor, her face contorted into an expression of pure anguish and frustration. She was merciless against it. Snape chuckled at the pathetic sounds she was making, as he dragged a chair from the far corner, and seated himself, spreading his legs to accommodate his now uncomfortable erection.
            Over and over again, the curse Severus had cast brought her tantalizingly, feverishly close to orgasm, only to subside and begin again. Her hands became claws, scrabbling at the stone floor. Her nipples were painfully hard now, and they showed clearly through her tank top.
            “I…I have a class….” She choked out, desperately.
            “Liar.” He chuckled again. “We have all the time in the world. Now…” He paused to admire her figure, splayed out in front of him. She didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. “Oh don’t stop on my account. I want to watch you.”
            “Wh…what?” Her breath caught in her throat.
            “I want to watch you, my little witch.” He repeated slowly, letting the words sink in. She stared at him, color rising to her cheeks. She wanted to fight him, but he knew he had her. “If you do, I’ll consider setting you free.” Her entire body trembled, and her fingers twitched, hesitantly, but they both knew that it would be futile to resist. “Yes, witch that’s it. You need to cum, don’t you? Why deny yourself what your body so desperately needs?” He murmured gently, encouraging her as she unbuttoned the top of her black jeans. “Take them off. I want to see.” His cock throbbed painfully, but he was nothing if not disciplined. “Slowly. This is for my pleasure, not yours.”
            She made a strangled sort of noise, as though she desperately wanted to argue, but her hands obeyed, and slid the jeans down smooth thighs, leaving her only in her tank top and knee high boots. Snape hissed sharply at the sight of silky, emerald green panties, edged with lace. His reaction evidently pleased her, because she managed a faint smirk in his direction. He scowled.
            “Tease yourself. No, not that yet.” He snapped when her hand reached between her legs. “Pull your straps down.”
            She smiled slightly, but did as she was told, even managing a coy glance at him as she did so. Snape had to fight back a curse when she hooked her thumbs beneath the shoulder straps of her top, and slid them down her shoulders. The solid length of his manhood was begging to be released. It was becoming almost painful. A husky groan escaped his lips as she revealed her pale breasts to him, the dusky rose nipples tightening into stiff little buds as they were exposed. He licked his lips, and felt an incredibly intense desire to bite them. She moaned, and the sound made his entire body spasm with delicious need. His eyes raked her flesh greedily as she kneaded her breasts for him, pinching the nipples sharply. She watched him through her lashes as another magical spasm spilled across her naked flesh, sending her sprawling wantonly across the floor. Several locks of red hair had escaped, and he thought about running his fingers through them when she threw her head back, biting her lip so hard against an approaching orgasm that inevitably, irresistibly ebbed away before she could. It gave her a brief moment of reprieve, and she was clearly determined to get under his skin if she could.
            “Don’t I get to see you too, Severus?” She breathed, watching him every bit as carefully as he watched her. He realized with a start that his hand had been lingering on the bulge of his trousers where the fabric was now uncomfortably tight across his dick. He snatched the hand away and glared at her.
            “The panties next.” His voice was barely louder than a whisper as he continued to watch her, utterly entranced. She drew her knees up together, blocking his view, but before he could snap at her, the Slytherin green panties were sliding to her knees. Still watching him, she brought her ankles together, and stretched her legs high above her body so the panties could slide right off. He saw her suppress a giggle, and the heat that overcame his flesh in response to the sound was almost unbearable. Freya did not need to be told what to do next. With a toss of her fiery red hair, she locked eyes with him as she slowly spread her knees, revealing a neatly trimmed blush of auburn pubic hair, and glistening pink sex. The breath caught in his throat at the sight, a low growl escaping his lips against his will. Freya propped herself up on her elbows, tossing her hair from her eyes, and fixing him with a gaze that was both smoldering, and taunting. Suddenly, he wasn’t certain who was in control anymore.
            “You’re dying to fuck me. I can tell.” She said softly. He shot her a warning glance. “I’m ready for you, Severus. Won’t you teach me, potions master?” She purred. His entire body became both very hot and very cold at the same time. “You can do what you want with me.” It was almost too much.
            “Silence.” He hissed. “Now…touch yourself, witch.” She did as she was told, sliding her fingers down her inner thigh. The other arm was crooked above her head. “Part your wet little lips for me.” He murmured, almost amazed when she complied, sliding two fingers down her glistening slit. “Now slide one in.” He ordered. Her spine arched with pleasure as two of her fingers slipped past her womanly folds. She whimpered, and began slowly fucking herself. “Yeessss witch. Slowly. Gods you look so wet.” He began deftly rubbing the bulge his trousers, trying to ease some of his discomfort. His cock was throbbing with every heartbeat.
            “Why don’t you come closer and find out?” She asked huskily. The hand that was itching to unbutton his fly clenched into a fist, which he held fast against his thigh. She started to giggle, but another powerful wave overcame her and the giggle became a groan of such wantonness that Severus almost lost all his precious control. He sighed, and massaged his temples for a moment, taking deep steady breaths before opening his eyes again. Freya was watching him with far more amusement than he liked.
            “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He growled. A very feline grin curled at her lips and she began crawling towards him on all fours. “What are you doing?” He asked sharply. She stopped, her head bowing as her body stiffened with another spasm. When it was over, she tossed her hair back, and smoothed her palms up his thighs, positioning herself between them.
            “You’re so hard.” She breathed. “I want to see.” Her fingers began toying with the buttons of his fly, but he snatched her wrists and held them firmly.
            “What are you playing at?” He snarled
            “I thought this is what you wanted, Severus.”
            No. He thought. Not like this. He felt a jolt of electricity as her teeth gently grazed him, teasing his cock through the fabric.
            “I want you to fuck my mouth.” She sighed. Now it was his turn to shudder, hot and impulsively and completely beyond his control. A deep growl rumbled in his chest as he took a fistful of her hair, and jerked her head back sharply. She hissed with pleasure. His other hand caressed her face with surprising tenderness. He leaned in close to her, trying to steady his now heavy breathing.
            “Not yet.” He whispered.
They were at an impasse, of sorts. He had wanted to watch her suffer with need, and she had, but now she was turning it on him. If he lost control now, she would win this game they were playing. He kissed her, hard. She moaned so sweetly into his mouth, his cock shivered and he thought that if she moaned again, he might cum in his trousers. Her tongue found his, exploring his mouth deftly as she entwined her fingers in his jacket. He realized suddenly that she was standing over her him now, and with that realization, he sat back heavily in his chair, breaking their kiss. Freya was panting and her hair was positively wild, but she looked oddly victorious. Bending over, she slipped her wand from the inside of her boot, and chuckled, pointing it at her own temple.
            “Finite.” She said. He gaped at her wordlessly. She’d called his bluff. The spell he’d used was just a simple jinx, easily wiped away. He tried to speak, but found himself at a loss for words as he watched her pull her clothes back on. “That was nice, but I think I’ll retire to my chambers now. I’m looking forward to that whiskey you gave me. Thank you for that, by the way.” She smiled, and looked at him thoughtfully, then sauntered over to him and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Tonight, when you’re alone...it’s going to be me you’ll think about.” Her hand was caressing the ever-prominent bulge in his trousers. Her hot wet tongue traced his ear, and he shivered violently. “Say my name when you cum.” She whispered. Then with a snort of laughter, she simply left him there.

                                                            *          *          *

            Sleep did not come easily for Severus Snape that night. Undoubtedly, his erection had been painful and throbbing, but he thought that if he gave in and touched himself, she would know somehow. It was incredibly difficult not to think about how soft her lips were or how sweetly she had moaned for him, but somehow, inexplicably, she had power over him, and this simply would not do. She was toying with him. That much was certain now.
            When he finally did fall asleep, his dreams were tormented by visions of Freya. At first, the images were warm and sensual. Her skin was supple and hot to the touch. She begged him to fuck her in a voice that wasn’t quite hers, but he was only too happy to give her what she wanted. His cock was impossibly deep inside of her, but just as he was about to come, they suddenly weren’t in bed anymore. Dream Freya was more hauntingly beautiful than she was in life, but when he placed his hand on her shoulder, it was ice cold, and when she turned to look at him, her eyes were blood red. Then, as is the nature of dreams, they weren’t in his chambers at all.
            Suddenly, he was standing in a dark stone room he didn’t recognize. The light that filtered through the single window was a pale, cold blue, and Freya was shivering, naked on the floor. Her knees were drawn up under her chin, as if she wanted to be as small as possible. An iron collar was around her neck, and it was chained to the wall. A tall, handsome man with brown hair and cruel eyes was standing over her, smiling.
            “You’re almost ready.” His voice was impossibly smooth, but Severus noted a strange accent. She didn’t speak. Her eyes were wide and her hair matted and wild. She almost looked insane. The man crouched down before her, and gently unlocked the collar that bound her. Snape recoiled at the sight of her throat, which had been marred by several bite marks. The man tried to get her to stand, but she resisted. He took her by the elbow and hauled her to her feet as if she were a child. Then, the door to the cell opened, and several other figures entered but they were blurry, and it was difficult to distinguish exactly who, or what they were, as if…as if she can’t remember what they looked like. Snape thought with a sudden jolt of realization. This is not my dream. Dream Freya then turned to look at him, and he was startled by the glint of recognition in her eyes.
            “Professor?” She asked slowly.
            “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here.” He said carefully.
            “Are you angry about my potions exam?” Her voice trembled, uncertainly.
            “No, Freya. I’m going to take you out of here.” He replied, and took her in his arms. When they kissed, his entire body became very warm, and when he slipped his tongue into her mouth, he felt her teeth become two very sharp fangs.
            Then they weren’t in the cell anymore. They were in the potions room, but it was different from his real classroom. This was the potions room from when he’d first started teaching, and to his amazement, there was Freya sitting alone at a desk near the back with her head down. He eyed her school uniform with interest. Hufflepuff, of all things. He snorted derisively. She looked up at him with a strange expression and he saw with amusement that she’d been doodling on herself with quill and ink, making tiny little designs on her flesh, not unlike the ones she bore permanently in real life.
            “I’m not sorry.” She said
            “Why should you be?” He asked, amused.
            “You’ve never noticed me before.” Dream Freya frowned.
            “Probably for the best. You were a student.”
            “I notice you though.” She bent her head, and continued doodling. “I keep hoping you’ll give me detention, but you never do.”
            Suddenly the class was full of students. Instinctively, Snape flicked his wand and writing appeared on the blackboard. He began teaching. Only part of him was aware of what he was doing. This is not real. Dream Freya stood up, and climbed onto her desk. He ignored her. This is not my dream. She inched closer, hopping from desk to desk, giggling as she did. Finally she was standing behind him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her lips to his ear and whispered.
            “Won’t you teach me, potions master?”
            Snape awoke with a start, sweat beading on his forehead, his chest heaving. That hadn’t felt like a dream. He knew legilimency when he saw it. He threw the sheets aside, and saw to his horror that he had orgasmed while he slept. Scowling, he scourgified himself and poured himself a firewhiskey. Before he could raise it to his lips however, there was a sharp knock on the door. His scowl deepened as he quickly threw on a set of black robes, and opened the door. To his surprise, it was Professor Mcgongall, who looked very haggard indeed.
            “We have a problem.” She said. “Follow me.”
            It was daytime. Apparently he had uncharacteristically slept in, and had missed breakfast. Mcgonagall swept through the corridors until they had reached the main entrance to the school, and then they stepped outside. Snape peered about uncertainly, but did not see the problem she’d spoken of until she closed the heavy doors behind them. Deep scratches had marred the ancient wood, and they formed words. The same sentence had been written hundreds of times.
            “She is ours.”
            He stared at them as Mcgonagall spoke quietly. “Pamona saw it this morning when she went out to the greenhouse. The students haven’t seen, thank Merlin, but the entire staff is in uproar.” She paused, waiting for him to speak. “Freya wants to leave. Half the teachers want her gone as well, but Albus has forbidden it. They think she is a danger to the school.”
            “They are correct.”
            “She will be killed if she leaves!” Mcgonagall gasped furiously.
            “I didn’t say that she should be thrown out, Minerva, I simply stated a fact. Now, what do you want me to do about it?”
            “Tell her she must stay here.” She said. Snape lifted an eyebrow imperiously at her.
            “And why would I do that?” He asked.
            “Because she’ll listen to you.” She replied instantly. Snape snorted with laughter thinking that nothing could be further from the truth. “She will! I know it.”
            “Minerva, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Miss Lupin and I hardly get along.” He sneered. Mcgongall pressed her lips together as if she wanted to say something, but didn’t. She was looking at him in much the same way that Pamona Sprout had looked at him during breakfast the other day. It made him uncomfortable. “Fine. I’ll have a word.”
            “Well, if I were you I’d do it sooner rather than later. She has company at the moment.” Mcgonagall said ominously before sweeping back inside the castle.
            It wasn’t until later that Snape understood what she meant, when he spotted Freya sitting in the courtyard with Charlie Weasley. His stomach turned sickeningly when he saw them together. Charlie had lent her his flannel shirt to ward off the chill, and he silently prayed for the whomping willow to take his stupid head off. Freya laughed at something Charlie said, and Snape’s fingers itched to cast some nasty jinx on the pair of them. Is this what she wanted? Flowers and giggles? He snorted derisively. He didn’t have time for her, then, if it was romance and mugs of cocoa that she wanted. Weasley could keep her. In spite of this, he found himself fuming with jealousy as he made his way to his private storeroom in the tapestry corridor where he spent the next hour unnecessarily organizing his potion ingredients.
            He was still burning with anger when he heard footsteps in the hallway, then voices. With gritted teeth he listened, becoming as still as possible so they would not hear him.
            “I honestly don’t think the dreams are anything to worry about.” Charlie was saying. Snape’s ears pricked up at this.
            “You swear you’ve never seen this before? Not even in Romania?” Freya asked, uncertainly.
            “Well, the circumstances are pretty unusual. Have you thought about taking up occlumency? Maybe it would help.” Charlie’s tone was a bit patronizing, as far as Severus was concerned. She had shut him out of her mind easily enough when she’d felt him prying. The dreams though…Snape was certain that he’d accidentally glimpsed them last night. He cringed. Why would her mind be so unprotected?
            “Yeah, I…suppose I’ll look into it.” She replied quietly
            “Professor Snape might be willing to teach you.” Charlie added unhelpfully,
            “Yeah. Maybe.” She sounded sullen. “Look, I’ve got to prepare for my next class. You don’t mind, do you?”
            “No not at all! It was great catching up!” He sounded a bit hurt. Snape grinned at that. Walk away, Weasley. You don’t know what you’re up against. “I’d like to check on you again, if that’s alright.”
            “That would be nice, Charlie.”
            Snape heard the unmistakable sound of Charlie giving Freya a small peck on the cheek. His fist clenched so hard around a bottle of leech juice he almost shattered it, but when he finally peered out of the storeroom, Freya was alone.      Instinctively, he reached out and seized her by the wrist. She cried out sharply, but he clamped a hand over her mouth as he dragged her bodily into the dimly lit room. He pressed her against a shelf as he kicked the door shut and muttered a muffliato spell to conceal their conversation, should a student unknowingly pass by. She lashed out immediately, smacking him hard in the face.
            “What the hell is wrong with you?” She seethed.
            “WITH ME?” He sneered, placing his hands on the shelf on either side of her, trapping her against it. “You torment me, and then dally about with that...that…Weasley?” He hissed the name like a curse. “I won’t have it.” And with that he leaned in, and seared her lips with a kiss. She moaned, in spite of herself it seemed, tangling her fingers through his black hair and eagerly tasting him. Her entire body shuddered against him, and he growled into her mouth, biting her lower lip to make her gasp. When he finally broke the kiss, it was only to ravage her unprotected throat with more kisses, nipping the warm flesh sharply and enjoying her noises of pleasure with deep satisfaction. Reaching around, he grabbed her ass firmly, and felt her fingers tugging at his belt. Her breathing was heavy, and desperate. She wanted him badly, but this was not for her. He told himself to remain in control, and stiffened his resolve. She wouldn’t win. Not this time.
            Snape held her jaw in his hand, forcing her to look at him. He saw the lust that glazed her eyes, and he placed another kiss on her now swollen lips. “On your knees, witch.” He snarled. She looked confused for a moment. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and forced her to kneel. When she stared up at him through dark lashes, he shuddered with anticipation. “Take it out.” He whispered.
            Her hands were trembling, but she licked her lips as she fumbled with his belt, and then slowly unbuttoned his fly. When her fingers touched his skin, he bit back a groan, but could not conceal a sigh when his manhood was finally released. Snape may not have been the most handsome wizard, but the gods had been kind in other ways. His cock was a solid eight inches long, and he enjoyed the look of mild alarm that passed over Freya’s face when she saw it. The tip was a swollen, glistening pink. “Don’t just stare. Touch it.” His voice caught in his throat as she obeyed, wrapping her fingers around the base, and squeezing gently before she began to stroke him. He watched her with amusement. She looked like she was in a trance. “Use your mouth.” He whispered. A guttural moan tore from his throat as she did what she was told, placing the tip of his cock between her lips and swirling her tongue around the sensitive head. “Ohh…merlin.” He swore. She moaned with pleasure, and the sound hummed across his flesh. He chuckled darkly. “You like that, do you?” He pressed himself closer, sliding himself deeper into her mouth. She was still pressed against the shelf. A whimper barely escaped her. “Suck.” He commanded.
            Freya complied, wrapping her lips firmly around his flesh as her head bobbed up and down, taking as much of his length as she could inside of her mouth. She was greedy in her administrations, so eager to please. What she couldn’t reach with her mouth, she pleasured with her hands, stroking his shaft to bring him closer to elation. He could not keep his grunts of pleasure from filling the tiny space. She was looking up at him with large blue eyes, and he saw the way her lips were stretched around him. “Oh…fuck.” He sighed. The sight of her struggling to swallow as much of him as she could was so sweet. His cock glistened and pulsated as she teased him with her tongue, licking him from base to tip, and taking him into her mouth again, the head hitting the back of her throat. She moaned deliciously around his girth, clearly enjoying herself. It was almost too much. He felt his balls begin to tighten, but he wasn’t ready to cum yet. He needed to teach her a lesson. “Is this what you used to think about when you sat in my class, Freya?” She stopped, and pulled away sharply, her eyes widening with confusion.
            “What are you-“
            “Silence.” He snarled, sinking his fingers into her fiery red hair. “When you used to dream about detention with your potions master, did you think about sucking his cock?” She was staring at him, at a loss for words. “Open your mouth, slut.” He ordered. Freya bit her lip uncertainly. “Do what you’re told.” She shivered, and did what he asked. A hiss escaped his clenched teeth as he grabbed the base of his cock, and directed it through her parted lips. Both hands encircled her head as he pressed himself deeper. Her throat was so wet and she gagged, whimpering around his girth. He chuckled cruelly. “Isn’t this what you asked for?” He pulled back, and thrust his hips sharply, causing her head to bump against the shelf behind her. Several potion bottles clinked ominously. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He tightened his grip in her hair, and used her mouth, rhythmically pumping himself between her lips. She made a little noise of distress, but did not fight him. One hand released her hair, only to reach down and cup her face as he forced himself deeper down her throat with a tight squelching noise. “You asked me to fuck your mouth last night. How are you liking it, witch?” He asked scathingly, pulling out of her mouth suddenly. She gasped for air, and coughed a bit. Her cheeks were flushed, but she moaned sweetly in response. He laughed darkly, and thrust himself into her mouth again, fucking her face so hard that his balls started to slap her chin. When he saw her reach down in an attempt to lift her skirt, he paused, and took out his wand.
            “Incarcerous.” He said slyly. Thick black robes burst from the tip of his wand, wrapping themselves around her wrists. She cried out sharply in alarm as they tightened, binding them to the shelf behind her so that her arms were now outstretched. Her eyes were wide, but full of need.
            “Please, Severus…”
            He stroked her hair mockingly. “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself. Now be a good witch, and open your mouth.” He traced her moistened lips with the tip of his member until she relented, and opened for him. “Oh…gods” He growled as she took him willingly in her mouth again, sucking him greedily and swirling her tongue lasciviously as if the only thing she wanted in the world was for him to cum. “Fuck…Freya.” Her head hit the shelf again as he slammed his cock down her throat. A bottle fell, and crashed onto the floor, but he didn’t care. Her mouth was so hot and she was taking him so submissively, moaning as if it was her pussy he was sliding his hardness into. His cock made deliciously wet noises as he fucked her throat relentlessly, and he was amazed by how well she was accepting him. “Fuck. Freya, I’m gonna cum.” She moaned sinfully as though she would like nothing more. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth, you little slut. Would you like that? Would you…” He gasped as his balls clenched tightly, his seed spurting so hard that he felt it hit the back of her throat. A great guttural moan tore from him, and he slumped over her for a moment, his cock pulsating hard as she swallowed.
            When he withdrew from her mouth, she closed her eyes and allowed her head to loll forward, looking utterly used. When she opened them again, he was watching her with great amusement and tucking himself back into his trousers.
            “You don’t mind if I leave you here, do you?” He asked sardonically. Her head snapped up, horror written on her face. “I’m sure you won’t need help escaping your bonds. If you are still here when I return…” He chuckled nastily. “Perhaps I’ll use you again. Damn, that was good. For me, anyway.” He purred as he crouched in front of her, and slithered a hand up her ruffled skirt, pushing her panties aside, and roughly sliding two fingers into her. She bit back a moan. “You’re so wet for me. Do you get this wet for the Weasley boy?” She squirmed against him, angry but so turned on by his cruelty. “I’ll have to let him know that if all else fails, a good throat fuck will do the trick.” She seethed at him, watching as he withdrew his fingers and sucked them one by one. “You’re not to leave Hogwarts, witch. I don’t care who wants you gone. I don’t care if Weasley or that bloody werewolf thinks they can protect you. I want you here, and if you try to leave, I swear I’ll drag you back by your pretty hair.”
            Freya stared up at him, disbelieving, but she did not reply. She didn’t even curse his name as he chuckled darkly, closing the door to his storeroom behind him.
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Spy vs. Spy