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
- 4
- 5
- 6
  Author’s note- Thank you kindly to the people who have taken the time to review! I really, truly appreciate it! I initially thought I’d just be writing this for my own amusement, but I really do love feedback. Enjoy!

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Severus took the time to send an owl to Madam Malkin, the shop owner whom Freya had clearly befriended that day in Diagon Alley. The seamstress had replied almost instantly, and a tiny brown saw-whet owl had dropped the parcel he’d ordered into his lap. Madam Malkin always provided excellent service to Professor Snape when he required it. He was very particular about his clothes, and generous with his galleons, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the witch already knew who the item was for. The note attached to it read, “Dear Professor Snape. I have enclosed the item within. You may pay at your discretion, as always. I hope your lady friend enjoys it as well.” He placed the item in his pocket, thinking to present her with it that evening. Better than daisies, by far.
Unfortunately, Freya did not show up to dinner that night. Severus smirked to himself, thinking perhaps she was still tied up in his potions storeroom, but when he went to check, thinking indulgently about what he might do next to torment her, she was gone. She did not show up for breakfast the next morning, either. Her absence did not appear to bother the headmaster, although the other teachers muttered to each other. Severus found it maddening, although he wasn’t entirely sure why. He had used her, much to his satisfaction, and he knew she had enjoyed it as well, but if that was the case, why did she continue to avoid him? Snape had expected her to come crawling to him afterwards, dripping with need, and had even set out firewhiskey for the occasion, but there had been no knocking on his chamber door that night.
            He caught a glimpse of her when Dumbledore called a meeting later that evening. It was announced that several aurors would be stationed at the school, in light of the recent threat. The scratches on the door had been removed, but their message still rang clear in the minds of the professors, and the rumors had already started spreading. Freya’s expression was stony, even when she saw that her brother Remus was there. A faint smile twitched on her lips when Nymphadora Tonks waved at her in greeting, but she seemed determined not to meet Severus’ gaze. If anything was troubling her, she did a good job at hiding it, but she was wearing a black leather wand holster which hung around her hips, and he saw the way her hand never strayed too far from it. She was dressed for combat, just as she’d been the day they had dueled, tight black trousers tucked into tall dragonhide boots, and a sleeveless black top. This time however, she wore black fingerless gloves that reached all the way to her elbow, and he was sure that was a knife sheathed in her right boot. His eyes flickered over her curiously, but when he looked up, he accidentally locked eyes with Lupin, who was staring at him in disgust. Did he know? Surely not.
            “Lupin and Tonks have volunteered to take first watch on the Southern wall. Freya will be stationed on the astronomy tower.” Dumbledore peered at all of them, and then he gave him a stern look. “Severus, you will go with her.”
            The room fell silent, and he felt several pairs of eyes on him. He gave Albus a curt nod, then looked over at Freya to gauge her reaction. She winced at the headmaster’s decision, but did not speak. Snape watched with some amusement as Lupin began exchanging harsh whispers with Dumbledore, undoubtedly trying to change his mind. When he looked back, Freya had already gone.
            When night fell, he found her already at her post, staring out across the forbidden forest, her hands gripping the stone ledge in front of her. Her gaze was intense, seeking out the shadows that lurked among the trees.
            “Already thirsting for blood, are we?” He said snidely. When she turned to face him her lips were so twisted in contempt that he held up his hands defensively. “A poor choice of words. My apologies.” She did not reply, but merely shook her head and resumed her silent watch over the school grounds. “Very well. By all means, continue to avoid speaking with me. I’ve been on the end of your silent treatment before, but in the meantime…”He drew a vial of dark purple liquid from his robes, and placed it before her. “I brewed this for you.” She gazed at it, quizzically. “I’ve noticed the way your hands tremble.”
            “My hands don’t tremble.” She lied.
            “I’ve noticed the way you try not to let your hands tremble, then.” He said, unable to keep the sneer from his lips. “You may have the others fooled, but I know post-cruciatic tremors when I see them. I suffer from them myself. How many times did Crouch use it on you?” She looked away, but did not answer. “Fine.” He sighed with exasperation. “It’s none of my business. Drink up, it will help, but you’d be good to remember that we’re not so terribly different, you and I.” Freya eyed the potion suspiciously, causing Severus to scowl at her. “Merlin’s beard, it’s not poison you ridiculous woman!”
            “Oh yeah, how silly of me to suspect you.” She snapped with biting sarcasm. Snape winced at this, in spite of himself. “How do I know this won’t wipe my memory or bring me to my knees like your little jinx?” At hearing this, he reached up and lightly traced her jawline with a surprisingly gentle caress. She blinked at him, but did not pull away. Unconsciously, she leaned into the caress, her eyes becoming hooded. Then she realized what she was doing and pulled away, clearly annoyed with herself.
            “I don’t believe I need a potion to bring you to your knees, my dear.” He purred. Freya looked at him with a strange expression on her face as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Then she uncorked the vial, and drank it down. He lifted an eyebrow, then after a moment’s hesitation, asked “Why have you been avoiding me?” Freya didn’t answer at first, but instead drew a silver flask from her pocket and took a long swig from it.
            “You’re askin’ the wrong question, luv.” She drawled, and offered him the flask. He sniffed it surreptitiously, then took a sip. The liquor was surprisingly sweet, and had a pleasant warming effect. He frowned at her when he handed it back. “You’re right though. We’re a little too similar, maybe. Do we bring out the worst in each other, or are we just…bad seeds?”
            “I was under the impression that you’ve enjoyed our little flirtations.”
            “You’ve got to be bloody joking. Flirtations? A blowjob in a cupboard is flirting is it?” She was laughing bitterly, but not at him it seemed. “Yeah, I enjoyed it. Of course I did. I’m damned, remember?” She added bitterly, taking another swig from her flask, and passing it back to him.
            “Did you know that your accent gets thicker when you curse?” He teased wryly, taking a solid gulp of the liquor this time.
            “Oh, you’re so smart, aren’t you?” She seethed. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe I want you, but I don’t want to want you?” He stared at her in surprise. He never expected her to be so blunt. “The question isn’t ‘why am I avoiding you’ the question is, why can’t I like nice wizards?”
            “Maybe because you’re not a nice witch.” He replied, somewhat scathingly. She chuckled darkly, taking a longer pull from her flask this time, then drawing her wand and muttering a spell to refill it. Clearly it was her intention to become drunk, but he wasn’t about to stop her. If they were attacked, he knew a sobering spell that would set her right.
            “You might be a bit of a wanker, but at least you’re an honest one. Charlie Weasley asked me out, you know. Charlie Weasley’s a nice wizard, but I said ‘no’ didn’t I? Why did I do that, eh?” The Irish twang in her accent was becoming very pronounced now.
            “If I thought it was in your best interest to pop out ten red headed children, I’d ask you the same thing.” He replied with surprising lack of sarcasm. Gods, what’s happening to me? She laughed. It was a nice sound. He felt heat rising to his face, a sensation that he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager. When’s the last time I made a woman laugh?
            “Nah. I know why. Weasley’s a decent bloke. Good job. Nice family. When he fucks up it’s almost charming.” There was disgust in her voice. “He’s never seen shit. He doesn’t know what’s out there. Gods, he wouldn’t know what to do with me if he had me.” She snorted.
            “I know what I’d do with you.” He drawled, accepting the flask when she offered it again.
            “Oh of course.” She said, chuckling. “You think your not-so-subtle advances are what get me going, do you?” He raised an eyebrow at her.
            “Aren’t they?”
            “Well, obviously they do, but you see, it’s me. I can’t bloody stop myself. I know you’re bad for me, and I’m bad for you, but I fall for your type every damned time. Show me a tall dark wizard with an evil grin and I’m done for, apparently.”
            Snape’s eyes narrowed at this, then frowned as he watched her shiver noticeably. Her arms were still bare, and the night was cold. She had lifted the flask to her lips again, but stopped abruptly when he removed his heavy black cloak, and draped it over her shoulders, not really thinking about what he was doing. “Are you really comparing me to Barty Crouch? A man who displayed you to his friends, used you and then used the cruciatus curse to bend you to his will before selling you?”
“No, actually I’m sort of blaming you in a way.” She looked up at him, almost shyly, a blush spreading across her cheeks. He shivered, but not from the cold. “You were my first real crush. Did you know that? When I was at school here you never even looked twice at me, but gods, I looked at you. Tonks never stopped giving me shit over it. ‘The great bloody bat of the dungeons?’ How could I have a thing for you?” She snorted with amusement at the memory. Snape could hardly believe his ears. He just stared at her. “It’s that voice. Sweet merlin. So commanding. And you wear those dark suits with so many buttons. Always been a sucker for a man in a suit.“ She took another swig, and kept talking as if he wasn’t even there. “I used to think about undoing those buttons, one by one.” She sighed, almost sweetly, her breath creating a swirling cloud of white mist. He started to laugh. He didn’t know why, but for some reason he found all of this incredibly amusing.
“I can’t believe you were a Hufflepuff.” He said without thinking.
“How do you know that, exactly? Were you talking to Tonks about me?” She snapped, appearing to sober up just enough to be suspicious again. He sighed. Now was as good a time as any.
“The other night, you dreamt about us. Together.” She stared at him, her eyes widening. “You were back in your cell, and your captors were about to drain you, but I took you away.” He said slowly, watching the horror written on her features turn to fury. “Now before you hex me into oblivion, please believe that I was just as surprised as you are. That really was me, in your dream. As much as I take pride in my legilimency, I don’t believe I could have slipped in unless your defenses were uncommonly weak. I know your sleep has been restless, and I know that your paranoia is growing worse. You still jump with the slightest sound.” She closed her eyes, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. The anger she had displayed a moment ago had been replaced with weariness.
“Every time I close my eyes, I see them.”
“I believe that you are under a psychic attack, Freya.” He murmured. She gaped at him in disbelief. “I think they are trying to torment you until they can draw you out. It’s just a rabble, not an army. They scratched their message on the door to frighten us, hoping we’d abandon you to the wolves, but they’re not interested in the school. They’re not strong enough to attack Hogwarts, but they can still get under your skin. You must call their bluff and stay here.”
“Or what?” She snapped at him. He growled with frustration and placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her close.
“WHY do you think Dumbledore sent me here tonight? To keep an eye out for bloodsuckers? No. He sent me to keep you in line, witch. For all he knows, you led them here.” Snape heard the flask she’d been holding clatter to the floor as he slipped his arms around her waist, the folds of the cloak he’d wrapped her in enveloping them both. His hot breath billowed from his lips as he stared down at her.
“Do you still think I’m a traitor?” She asked quietly.
“No.” He whispered, leaning in to kiss her lips. They were cold at first, but they warmed up quickly and she was soon moaning contentedly, slowly relaxing in his arms. He slipped his tongue into her mouth. Sweet and warm, like the liquor they’d been sharing. He pulled her irresistibly close to share his body heat, groaning eagerly when slipped her arms around his waist and chuckling into her mouth when he felt her hands grab his ass, pulling him close. She broke the kiss briefly to give him a rakish wink, before he lifted her up, and sat her precariously on the stone ledge. The hint of danger seemed to please her, for in response, she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking him in. He kissed her again, pressing his hardness insistently against her, but before he could deepen the kiss, she tore away from him to stare over her shoulder out into the night. He bent his head to kiss the exposed curve of her neck instead, but she hissed at him to stop. “What-“ he started to ask, annoyed by the interruption but then he heard it. A faint voice as soft as a cooing dove, rising with a sing-song lilt. It broke over him like a bucket of ice water, seeping deep into his veins. His stomach clenched with dread.
“Freeeeeeeeeya.” It said.
Snape turned back just in time to see Freya baring her teeth like a savage animal. When the voice called her name again, she turned away from him and lunged over the ledge of the tower, hands curled into claws. He wrapped his arms around her waist firmly, and wrested her from the edge, pinning her arms to her sides as she struggled against him. “Are you mad? Do you want to die, witch?” He snarled at him.
“It’s him.” She growled, her eyes fixed on the pale figure that had stepped out of the forest by Hagrid’s hut. Snape felt a twisting in his guts. The man was prodding at the air in front of him, testing the invisible defensive shield that he could not enter.
“Freeeeeeya.” Barty Crouch Junior was gazing up at them, head cocked, his eyes black and soulless. “There you are darling. Come down and greet me, won’t you?”
Freya struggled harder, her hands grasping desperately for her wand. Snape hissed at her to be still. “He can’t get through. Don’t give him what he wants.”
“I’m going to kill him.” She hissed.
“I think someone got to him first, my dear. Look.” He said darkly. They watched as the thing that used to be Barty leapt up onto the roof of Hagrid’s hut with inhuman agility, his limbs jerking like a dying spider’s.
“Fuck.” Freya whispered. Her eyes were huge with fear and hatred.
“Freeeeeya…come with me my love. It only hurts for a moment. Then you can be mine again! Wouldn’t you like that?” His voice was unnaturally smooth. Snape felt Freya go slightly limp in his arms, and then she shuddered with a deep spasm. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and with an inhuman smile she spoke with a voice that was not hers.
“Yeeeeess.” She hissed, and then suddenly her body was wrenched from his grip by an invisible force, as though a hook had been attached to her belt and was reeling her in. Snape watched with horror as the force pulled Freya viciously over the edge of the tower, her limbs stretched unnaturally behind her. Her eyes were closed. For a moment she was suspended, just a silhouette in the moonlight. His cloak tumbled from her shoulders and fluttered lazily to the ground several stories below. Severus felt an icy dread churn his insides. Without thinking, he climbed onto the ledge. If he could reach her hand, he could pull her back in…but someone yanked him back with a sharp cry.
“Stop! Severus, don’t! You can’t reach her!” It was Lupin. Tonks was with him, and she had her wand pointed at Freya who was hovering in mid air, an icy wind whipping her hair around her pale face. Snape watched, aghast as Crouch, still on top of Hagrid’s hut, twitched his wand causing her body to jerk sickeningly toward him. Tonks pulled her wand back as well, trapping Freya in some sort of grim, invisible tug of war.
Suddenly there was barking, and the lights of Hagrid’s hut flickered on.
“Oi! What’s goin’ on out here?” The burly gamekeeper stepped outside, his pink umbrella clutched in one hand and a lantern in the other. His great mastiff Fang leapt from the doorway, barking madly at the spot where Barty Crouch had stood a moment before. He had disappeared into the night. Nymphadora was so distracted that she broke eye contact with Freya’s limp form, and in the second that the connection was lost, her body fell to earth with a sickening thud. Tonks screamed. Lupin turned white as a sheet, but Severus was already moving, bolting down the spiral staircase, and out the door.
When he reached the still, broken body in the grass, Fang was circling her, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. Hagrid rushed to grab the beast by the collar, his lantern falling to the ground. When Snape was finally at her side, his heart, which had been beating so rapidly, suddenly seemed to stop. His stomach turned. She was still. Her arm was twisted so unnaturally above her head, and her neck...it had snapped. Hagrid fell to his knees, retching as Snape approached her. The dog was still growling, his hackles raised.
Severus placed his hand on her cold chest, and felt the faintest flutter there, but before he could sigh with some relief, Freya’s eyes suddenly snapped open and fixed on him, but they were not the pale blue that he was used to. They were black. Her body lurched up again, pulled up like a ragdoll on a fishing line, and the bones in her broken neck gave a terrible crack as her head snapped back into place. Her arm, which dangled uselessly behind her made a nasty popping sound as it jerked into its socket. The thing that was not Freya licked her lips at him and started to approach him with a low purring sound,
“Severus...” It whispered but then it stopped, and hissed in pain. Snape gaped as the creature began smacking itself in the face, like some grotesque vaudevillian routine, but when it stopped, it was Freya looking up at him with frantic blue eyes, horror and disgust written across her features. Then, she fainted.
Snape barely managed to catch her as her body crumpled, but he found himself cradling her head against his chest like a child’s.
“What…the bloody hell…was that?” Hagrid gasped as Fang started to wag his tail again. The big dog padded over to them, and began eagerly licking Freya’s face. The witch did not stir.
“Hagrid. What you saw…you must tell the Headmaster, but please…no one else must know. Not yet.” Snape said quietly. Hagrid had no time to respond. At that moment, Lupin and Tonks caught up with them. Tonks was visibly upset, but Lupin had turned a ghastly shade, as if he were going to be ill. He started to protest when Severus hooked his arm beneath Freya’s knees, and picked her up.
“Is she alive?!” Tonks cried. “Remus, I’m so sorry. I thought I had her!” Snape almost rolled his eyes as he ignored her, taking large strides toward the castle.
“Lupin, you’re going to show me where Freya’s chambers are. “
“She needs to see the mediwitch!” Lupin growled furiously.
“Do what I say if you want your sister to live.” Snape replied angrily. “Tonks, return to your station.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
“You want to leave the school unprotected? Fine.” He snapped, not bothering to look back.
“I’m going to fetch Dumbledore.” Lupin said with an air of finality. “Her chambers are behind the painting of Galahad in the library wing.”
“What’s the password?” Snape huffed, but Lupin was already sprinting toward the headmaster’s office, and Tonks had presumably returned to the South wall. “Damn it. Bloody werewolf.”
He carried her all the way to the library. He could have used magic, but he didn’t. When he reached the portrait, he had only to give the pompous knight his most menacing glower before the painting swung open for him. The interior was not what he’d expected. Severus carefully placed Freya on her large four-poster bed, and looked around. Every inch of available wall space that was not a bookshelf was full of artwork. Not enchanted paintings that moved, but muggle style work, bold and colorful. Several of them, he noted, were studies of nude figures. A cloth tarp covered most of the wooden floor, and there were several easels standing upright, holding paintings in various stages of completion. The entire place had a faint smell of turpentine. He glanced back at Freya, recalling that Dumbledore had mentioned she was a painter during his first debriefing. She had been an artist before she’d been sucked into the world of magical espionage. He had forgotten. No wonder she wasn’t pleased to be stuck here.
Freya stirred, her face twitching slightly. He went to the bed and gazed down at her warily as the portrait door swung open again and Albus Dumbledore stepped through. Lupin rushed in after him and made to grab Freya’s hand.
“Don’t touch her.” Snape grabbed Lupin’s wrist and held it firmly. “You don’t want to tempt it.” He said darkly. Dumbledore frowned down at her.
“It is as I feared, then? She is tainted?” He asked softly. Snape winced. Damn him. Did he see this coming all along?
“I saw it, right after she fell. It’s using her as a vessel.”
“What is he talking about? What’s using her?” Lupin demanded frantically.
“Did she kiss you?”
“Freya did.” It was no use lying to the old man.
“But not the succubus?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“Good. If she had, you would know.”
“Succubus?” Lupin repeated hoarsely. Freya stirred again, her brow furrowed. All three men looked down at her.
“Remus?” She whimpered softly.
“I’m here!” He said, and before Severus could stop him, he leaned in and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. Her eyes snapped open and locked on Lupin, but once again, they were not her eyes. They were pitch black. Lupin snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned, horror twisting his features.
“Incarcerous.” Dumbledore bellowed. Thick cords sprung from his wand and bound her wrists to the bed. The succubus was staring up at Lupin, who was utterly transfixed, like a mouse locking eyes with an adder. She smiled at him, and the smile was both dazzling and terrible.
“Want to see your sister’s tits, werewolf?” It said silkily.
“Remus, please leave us.” Dumbledore ordered calmly. The werewolf looked as though he was about to be sick, but he did as he was told, nearly tripping as he went through the portrait hole. The succubus tossed her head back, squealing with laughter.
“Are you sure that’s wise, headmaster? Lupin was a defense against the dark arts teacher, after all.”
“I fear that he won’t be able to detach himself. Extracting it will take a keen mind, and this thing must be banished tonight, I’m afraid.”
Snape watched as Freya closed her eyes tight, her chest heaving with the effort. Then her head hit the pillow, unconscious again. “She’s fighting it.”
“Yes I’m afraid she’s been fighting it since she came here. I attempted to help her, but she refused. Now it is growing beyond her control.”
“That’s what those creatures want. They don’t care about her, they just want the thing they placed inside of her.” He shuddered, thinking back to their conversation in the tower. Why can’t I like nice wizards? “What do we do?”
“We can do nothing, I’m afraid. Only Freya can expel the thing inside of her.” He motioned to a table that was pressed against the far wall. It was covered in open books, as well as a pewter cauldron. “It would appear that she’s already tried. I believe that only you can help her.” Albus replied coolly. Snape whirled on him, fury blazing in his dark eyes.
“How is this my responsibility?” He demanded.
“Don’t be churlish, Severus. You’ll find the answers in there, I think.” The old man pointed his wand at one of the open books, and it flew at Severus, who caught it with a scowl. “I’ll be in my office. I suggest warding the door against unwelcome guests when I am gone.”
Snape cursed under his breath. Impossible old goat. He looked down at the book. “Libidine, by Marius Esposito III” Was scrawled on the cover over an illustration of a naked couple. He recognized it from the restricted section of the library. “Merlin’s beard.” He swore again.
“Severus?” Freya’s voice was small. He sat on the bed next to her.
“Look at me, witch.” He said. When she did, her eyes appeared normal. “You should have told me.”
“No time.” She gasped. “She’s coming.” Her voice was strange. “I need you to...”
“What is it Freya?”
“Chapter…21.” She sighed. In that instant, the bouquet of daisies that had been resting in a vase on the bedside table burst into flames. He drew his wand and swiftly put it out. Freya’s eyes went cloudy, and then they were dark again.
“Snape. Snape. Snape.” She said in a high childlike voice, like a nervous tick. The sound of it gripped his spine with icy fingers. “Deatheater. Care for a taste?” She snapped her teeth at him, chuckling. “Come darling. I’m much more fun than she is.” She rolled her hips suggestively. “You only wanted to fuck her anyway. We could do so much more. Snape. Snape. Snape.” She giggled, and it sounded like something small and dark scuttling over dead leaves.
He tried to ignore her as he seated himself in an overstuffed leather armchair and flipped through the pages of “Libidine.” Not an easy task, as the thing kept staring at him with its unnerving black gaze and licking its lips hungrily. It was a book of sex spells, of the dark variety. Snape might have grinned if not for the dire circumstances. The drawings were crude, but highly…anatomical. He paused on an image of a satyr chasing a woman with flowers in her hair maintaining an erection that surely would have made it impossible to walk, let alone run. When he found chapter 21 his eyes widened. There was a moving diagram of a beautiful naked woman, but as he watched, her body was torn in two down the middle, and a dark demonic hag with bat-like wings stepped out of her skin like a dressing gown. If the thing was strong enough to make its presence known, Freya would be dead by morning. He read the chapter once, then with a feeling of disbelief mingled with an awful desire to laugh, he read it again. He knew what needed to be done, but he didn’t like it.
            There was a loud snap. The succubus wearing Freya’s body had twisted one of the cords holding her wrists so hard that it had popped the joint out of its socket. He watched disdainfully as the hand slithered free, then snapped back into place, instantly healed.
            “I’m far more interesting than that book, deatheater.” It said, lazily trailing the free hand down her chest and sliding it to the button of Freya’s trousers, popping it off as easily as uncorking a bottle. She started to touch herself furiously, throwing her head back in mock ecstasy. It was almost repulsive.
            “Undoubtedly.” He drawled in a slightly bored tone. He snapped the book closed, and watched the creature in front of him. “What do you want, daemon?”
            “Isn’t it obvious?” It hissed. The tattoos on Freya’s skin appeared to glow for a moment, then faded to their original indigo. He noted this with fascination.
            “No, actually.”
            “Take me professor.” It mimicked Freya’s voice in a high, childish manner. “Fuck me in every hole, then tear my stupid head off!” It giggled, licking its lips lasciviously.
            “Oh? Do you hate your vessel? Why?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow. “I for one find your shape rather pleasurable.” He admitted. The succubus cooed at him, pursing her lips, then grinning broadly. “You like compliments, don’t you?” The thing leered at him as he rose to his feet and walked to the foot of the bed. “Answer me this, and I’ll give you another.” The grin widened impossibly far, splitting Freya’s face unnaturally. He could feel the heat radiating from Freya’s flesh. It was like standing too close to a bonfire.“I know about your kind, Succubus. I know that you feed on men, and I know that you can only sustain yourself with lustful energy. So tell me…” He paused, and began unbuttoning his coat, one tiny button at a time, noticing the way the black eyes stared at his fingers while he did so. “Why haven’t you fed on me? Surely you’ve noticed me, and you’ve had more than one opportunity. Why the discretion?” It didn’t answer, but the tattoos on Freya’s shoulders shone brightly for another instant. Snape chuckled with amazement. “Ohh I see. Clever witch. Those runes are binding you, aren’t they? Keeping you trapped? A pity your masters didn’t see them before they placed you there. Foolish.” The thing continued to stare at him.
            “Release me.” It whispered. “I will bring you pleasures the likes of which you’ve never known. I will bring you power and glory.”
            “An interesting proposal.” He replied sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I cannot. I would have to kill the woman you possess, and as I said…I find her very pleasing.” The succubus scowled at him, almost petulantly. “So you see the dilemma we’re in.”
            “Her power is nothing compared to mine, deatheater, and I know your kind well. It is I who have drawn you, not this wretch.” It snapped the other wrist, and released itself as it spoke. The succubus undid her hair, letting it tumble over her shoulders as she looked up at him coyly.
            “Ah, see that’s where you’re wrong.” He finished unbuttoning the last bit of his coat, leaving him in a black velvet vest and white undershirt. The creature watched, enraptured as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing strong pale forearms. It shook its head reflexively, the body shuddering. “It’s the other way around I’m afraid. You…”He reached up and tugged his slytherin green tie away from his throat, snapping it with a flourish. “…are the one who is drawn to me.” With a flick of his wand, the leather armchair slid from its place in the far corner, and he sat down once again, unbuttoning the top of his white undershirt as he did so.
            “What are you doing?” The thing rasped, narrowing its eyes suspiciously. He flicked his wand again, and the bonds that held her ankles disappeared.
            “Come here, girl.” He commanded in his silkiest voice. It blinked at him. “Closer. Your Potions Master demands it.” The succubus resisted at first, then crawled to the edge of the bed, staring up at him with its black, soulless gaze. “Now…take your boots off.” It hesitated. He reached over, and grasped a fistful of red hair. “I said…” He growled, lowering his lips closer to hers. “Take…them…off.” The thing purred, and did as it was told. Snape had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide the smirk that threatened show on his face. He had played this game before. This time, he would win. The succubus stood over him, uncertainly.
            “The trousers next.” He said, watching with amusement as the creature obeyed; although he felt his cock stiffen the instant he saw that Freya was wearing tall black socks that reached up to her knees.
“How would you like to fuck me?” It said in a velvet voice that made him shudder.
“How did Crouch like to fuck you?” He murmured. The thing cackled at him.
            “That fool?” It hissed. Snape frowned. The succubus was becoming more terribly beautiful. Freya’s skin was now impossibly smooth like cold marble, and her hair was unnaturally red, and hung in impeccable ringlets. It slithered closer, sliding its hands up his thighs before straddling him wantonly. He shut his eyes tightly for a moment. The heat the creature was giving off was next to unbearable, but his cock was so painfully hard now. Her touch burned, but his instincts yearned for more. The temptation was real. Let her take you. Let her devour your soul if she wishes it. His exemplary occlumency skills saved him. Swallowing hard, he looked up into Freya’s face and willed himself to continue.
            “Take your top off. Slowly.” He ordered next. His eyes lingered on the lacy black bra that was revealed to him, but he forced his thoughts to remain clear. “There’s another one like you. He’s your master, isn’t he? He’s wearing Crouch’s body the way you’re wearing hers.” The succubus giggled, and undulated her body, grinding against his throbbing erection and staring at him hungrily. He forced his lips to curl into a smile. “You are lovely.” It would have been true, if not for the monstrous black eyes that were now looking at him with vain pleasure, but he was disgusted by this creature and the effect it was having on him. “I have a present for you.” He said in a low voice. At hearing this, the creatures face split into a terrible, childish grin. There were now bright yellow flames dancing in the pits of its eyes. It growled with delight. He reached into his pocket and extracted the thin collar that he’d had specially made. It was made of dark green leather, with an ornately wrought silver buckle. “I ordered it from Madam Malkin’s for your vessel, but I’d like you to have it. My offering to the beautiful one.” He let it dangle from his fingers. The creature followed it with its eyes, completely hypnotized. “You like jewelry, don’t you? If you’ll wear it for me, I will let you consume me.” He purred. Its eyes gazed at him. He winked roguishly back, and lazily undid another button of his undershirt. “I won’t even fight back.” The creature snatched it from him, and greedily buckled it around her neck, then gaped at him in sudden bewilderment.
            “What sorcery is this?”
            “Freya.” He lunged forward and cupped her face in his hands, tracing her lip with his thumb as he so often did to tease her, hoping that the motion would draw her out. “You must fight it. NOW.” The succubus snarled at him, and made as if to claw his eyes out, but he grabbed the book “Libide” from his armchair, and opened it to the drawing in chapter 21, holding the pages in front of him like a talisman. “I am your master now, Freya. With this bond I offer my protection. In tua caveum.” He said. Freya’s body became rigid. Her eyes rolled back into her head as black smoke poured from her mouth and nostrils. She fell to the floor and began to writhe as it billowed out. The smoke screamed, and for a moment Severus saw it take the form of something with giant black wings before it dived straight into the open book. He snapped it closed, and tore off his belt. He wrapped it around the book and pulled it tight to keep it closed, then sighed with relief.
            Freya sat up groggily, looking as if she had a terrible hangover. “It’s gone.” She breathed. “It feels gone. Is it gone?” She slurred, looking bewildered. Then she doubled over and began to gag. She ran past him, into her bathroom and slammed the door. Severus heard the unmistakable sound of vomiting.
            “I hope you have a decent brew of pepper up potion in there.” He said more casually than he felt. She grunted in response, which made him chuckle. There were sounds of a running faucet coming from the bathroom now. “We have a long night ahead of us.” Door popped open, and Freya slumped against the doorframe. She was now wearing a black satin robe, and there was a toothbrush in her mouth. She lifted an eyebrow quizzically at him. He drew his wand and made a complex sigil in the air in front of him. A pair of leather handcuffs with a long silver chain fell out of thin air and he caught them, holding them up for her to see. “We have to consummate our wedding night.”
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Spy vs. Spy