Valentine | By : AmaliasTale Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Het - Male/Female Views: 4497 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story, but I did have fun |
Additional warnings: Amalia is a student, 18 years of age. She engages in a sexual relationship with one of her professors.
Amalia skulked into the Great Hall for Valentine’s Day breakfast in her customary weekday getup (robes, robes, and who care what you wear under your robes?), modified only by a red carnation tucked behind her ear and a very noticeable frown upon her face. She was determined to try to enjoy the holiday, but aside from receiving cards from a few of her girlfriends and attending a sure-to-be awkward mixer at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade that evening, she did not expect this particular Friday to be anything but depressing. This would be her last Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts and her seventh straight without a date; Amalia did not have a boyfriend and she doubted she had any admirers, either. All she did have was an unrequited secret crush on her Potion’s professor, Severus Snape. She planned on spending some steamy time alone with him in her room that night—if only in her mind, of course—but how would that make today different than any other?
Plopping down at the Slytherin table, Amalia rummaged through her rucksack and pulled out a stack of handmade Valentine’s Day cards. She passed them out to a half-dozen friends, a small smile budding on her lips; if nothing else Valentine’s Day was a nice way to let your friends know how much you appreciate them. Still, she thought ruefully, she was probably the only one of her group who was not getting any action that night.
“Thanks Amy!” said her closest friend, Esmeralda Cynwood, beaming as she handed Amalia a pink envelope with a flourish.
Amalia opened it, wrinkling her nose when she saw that it was empty. She looked at Esmeralda questioningly. Esmeralda leaned in close and whispered, “Special treat, Ame. Just for our group: one for you, one for me, one for Katharine, one for Sarah Beth. My sister told me about them, they haven’t been available for years. They’re charmed. I bought them in Hogsmeade, from some witch I’d never seen before. She was selling them like crazy! Most of them got bought up by sixths years but she had enough left for me!” Esmeralda spoke rapidly, her voice becoming breathless with excitement. “I’ll tell you how it works on the way to Potions. Can’t have everyone asking for one, you know?” She grinned and took a zestful bite of festively heart-shaped Danish.
After breakfast, Amalia and Esmeralda embarked together to their first class, N.E.W.T. Level Potions with Professor Snape.
“So, what’s the deal? What is this?” asked Amalia, studying the pink envelope as she walked.
“I got it weeks ago but I managed to keep it a secret ‘til now! It’s supposed to, sort of, find answers for you… to your most burning sexual questions,” said Esmeralda theatrically, laughing at Amalia’s dumbfounded expression. She continued, “See, you just write the name of someone you, you know, like, on a piece of parchment. Put it in the envelope, seal it, and then comes the fun part...” Esmeralda wrung her hands devilishly, “Write 14 questions—because February 14, I guess—on the outside and by the end of the day, you should know the answer to at least one. But how you find out is a mystery. So make sure they’re all good questions!”
Amalia stared at the envelope, considering the task. For a short time they walked without speaking, but remembering something important, Esmeralda exclaimed, “Oh! I forgot: it all has to be done in his presence. Your crush, I mean. You don’t want him to see it, of course, but he needs to be around. That’s the only way the charm will work.”
“Ok…” Amalia muttered, mind racing. She had lots of questions, an endless deluge of questions, about her dark, mysterious professor—but she doubted this would really allow her to find out any answers.
Esmeralda was still talking. “So, Amy, who are you going to do?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know…” Amalia said hesitantly. Esmeralda was her best friend, but Amalia had never admitted her desperate attraction to their teacher to anyone, not even to her. Some things are just better kept to oneself.
“Come on! I’ll tell you if you tell me. Who?”
Trying to buy herself time, Amalia agreed, “I’ll tell you tonight, if it works. Ok?” She hoped that by the end of the Hogsmeade mixer that evening, Esmeralda would be off with some boy and Amalia would be off the hook.
“Fine, fine. But you’d better! I won’t tell you mine until I hear yours.” The pair continued in silence the rest of the way to class, each lost in private contemplation.
Amalia took her usual place in the Potions classroom, second row from the front and just off center. Professor Snape was sitting at his desk in the front of the room, not yet attending to the bustle of entering students. Amalia seized the opportunity to tear a scrap from her parchment and hurriedly scrawl “Severus Snape” before stuffing it into the pink envelope and sealing it closed. She glanced around suspiciously, but no one was paying any attention. All through the classroom, students were flirting, exchanging cards and gifts, and buzzing about the upcoming party.
When Professor Snape stood up, the students quieted and scattered to their seats; no one was interested in earning a detention on Valentine’s Day, of all days. Amalia edged the pink envelope beneath her parchment, keeping it visible just enough that she could write her questions; after all, it would be her only opportunity to be in his presence that Valentine’s Day.
Just before Snape started in on his lecture, Amalia noticed a small ball of crumpled parchment land on the desk beside her. Snatching it quickly, she unfolded it beneath the desk and read: “Someone in our potions class?” She spun around and saw Esmeralda grinning at her, her eyebrows wiggling madly. Amalia sighed and hunched over her desk, beginning to thoughtfully scribble questions on the outside of the envelope.
The beginning of the lesson flew by as Amalia concentrated on her envelope, every once in a while glancing up and nodding solemnly in the pretense that she was paying earnest attention. But as the lesson dragged on and her thoughts bubbled over, she became fixated upon this Valentine’s side project. She was up to her fifth question when she realized that the room had gone eerily silent.
Amalia raised her head cautiously and saw that Snape was staring right at her. “What is it, Miss Neverscorn, which so firmly holds your attention, as it is clearly not today’s lecture?” He strode over to her desk and grabbed the edge of the pink envelope that stuck out from beneath her parchment before Amalia had a chance to hide it. His face lit up with recognition and he sneered, “Ah, yes, Valentine’s Day nonsense. Unfortunately we run into this rubbish every few years, purchased from some miscreant in Hogsmeade, no doubt? Miss Neverscorn, I would have believed you were a bit smarter than to play into such silly little games.”
Amalia bowed her head and prayed he would just hand the envelope back to her and move on with the lesson, but she knew that was not his style.
“Miss Neverscorn, for the benefit of those who are not informed, please tell the class what this is,” said Snape, holding the pink, scribble-covered envelope aloft for all to see.
“Um, it’s a Valentine’s Day charm …,” Amalia said weakly.
“And how does it function? In detail, please.”
“You write the name of someone you like on a piece of parchment and seal it, and then you write questions about them on the envelope, and by the end of the day you’re supposed to get the answer to one,” said Amalia, hurrying through the explanation in the hopes that she could soon just shut her mouth and melt into her seat.
“What kind of questions?”
“Uh, romantic.”
“Or, if I am not mistaken, sex-ual.” Snape drew out the word and Amalia flushed red hot; for all of her filthy little fantasies, she’d never once actually heard him say that word.
Silence. Painful silence.
“Correct, Miss Neverscorn?” asked Snape impatiently.
“Yes.”
“Well then, let’s find out what kind of questions pique Miss Neverscorn’s curiosity,” Snape continued with a sneer, “how big is his… Miss Neverscorn, that is a word we try not to use in the classroom at Hogwarts.” The class laughed and Snape smirked overtop of the envelope as Amalia sunk low in her chair.
Snape read on, “How many girls has he… hmm, another questionable choice of words. I’m beginning to doubt your taste level, Miss Neverscorn. Has he ever been in love? Well that’s quite a change in direction from the previous. Much more ro-man-tic,” he stretched the word, eliciting more guffaws from the other students. “Does he think I’m pretty? Would he fuck me?” Snape emphasized “fuck,” eliciting gasps followed by riotous laughter. “Only five? Well, you’d better hope it still works. Now, if I’m not mistaken, the charm is only effective if completed in the presence of your object of desire,” he said dramatically, “So, who is the lucky gentleman?”
Amalia held her breath as Snape tore open the envelope, knowing full-well that he was about to come face to face with his own name, scrawled in her untidy hand. But his expression did not change as he read the parchment; rather, he stuffed it swiftly into his robe pocket and said, “Fortunately for you, Miss Neverscorn, I shall not allow the foolery of this frivolous holiday to interfere with any more of our class time. Detention. Tonight at 7 pm.”
“But that’s when the Hogsmeade mixer starts!” Esmeralda exclaimed, clapping her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.
“Oh, is it? Pity,” said Snape facetiously, “Well, if you don’t want to join your friend in detention, Miss Cynwood, I suggest you quiet down.”
As Snape resumed the day’s lecture from where they left off, Amalia slumped in her chair, her face on fire and her heart beating out of her chest.
Amalia was all nerves for the rest of the day. She arrived at the Potions Classroom at 6:55 pm (she certainly did not want to risk being late) wearing her school robes, with her Valentine’s Day party attire concealed underneath. She hoped that, if she was lucky, she would be able to get out of detention as quickly as possible and still be able to attend most of the event at the Three Broomsticks.
“Please take a seat,” said Snape, gesturing to a desk at the front of the classroom. Amalia obliged. Snape approached her coolly, reaching into his robe and pulling out the piece of parchment with his name on it, which he thrust directly under Amalia’s nose. “What does this say?”
“P-Professor S-Snape,” she stammered.
“And who is that?” he asked slowly.
“You, sir,” said Amalia, looking down.
“How interesting. Am I to infer that these questions are concerning me?” He reached into his robe once more and extracted the envelope.
Reluctantly, Amalia replied, “Yes.”
“Read them. As if you were asking me these questions.”
Amalia’s head snapped up sharply, horrorstruck.
“You don’t want me to turn you in to the Headmaster, do you? Read them,” he repeated, menacingly.
“… How… b-big-“
“Address me properly. Begin each question with ‘Professor Snape.’”
“Professor Snape. How big is your… cock?” she finished meekly.
Snape smirked. “Continue.”
“Professor Snape, how many girls have you, uh, fucked?”
“Professor Snape, have you ever been in love?” With this question, Amalia noticed his eyes narrow and the corners of his mouth twitch slightly.
Amalia took another deep breath. The next two were almost worse, they were so personal! “Professor Snape, do you think I’m pretty?” she asked in an apologetic tone. His face was stony, betraying no answers. “Professor Snape… would you fuck me?” She winced as she fought through the last few words. Snape only stared at her. Amalia squirmed.
“Good. Now, quid pro quo, I have a few questions for you, Miss Neverscorn,” Snape snarled, placing his hands on either side of her desk, “how tight is your cunt? Are you a virgin? How long have you wanted me to fuck you? And will you beg me for it?” The volume of his voice grew to a furious crescendo as he leaned forward until his large hook nose was only millimeters away from her face. As Amalia sat cowering, wide-eyed, Snape turned suddenly and stalked over to his desk.
He opened a drawer and balled something into his fist, then returned to Amalia’s desk, placing a small vial in front of her. “Now, we have two options. You can drink the potion in this vial and forget everything that has happened in the past ten minutes. I will hand you a parchment and a quill and you will write lines for half an hour. Then, you will be permitted to head out to your little party,” he concluded snidely.
“Or,” and his voice was softer now, almost predatory, “you may remain here, with me, and we can attempt to satisfy some of our mutual curiosity.” There was a wicked glint in his eye and his lips curled into a cruel smile. He leaned in once again and Amalia shivered, feeling his hot breath on her ear. He whispered, “Take a moment to think about what you’re getting into, little girl,” before returning to his desk and casually leafing through a textbook.
For several interminable minutes, Amalia sat frozen in her seat. Was this really happening? Her hands shook as she fiddled with the vial, occasionally stealing glances at the intimidating professor, who continued to ignore her. Finally, she got to her feet and began to walk toward him. Snape did not acknowledge her approach. Upon reaching his desk, she placed the still-full vial in front of him and waited. After a long pause, Snape asked, “Is that your answer?”
Amalia nodded nervously. Snape rose abruptly and roughly grabbed the front of her robes, pulling Amalia’s body against his and smashing his lips onto hers in a hungry, unrestrained kiss. Not to be outdone, Amalia moaned and threw her arms around his neck, eagerly shoving her tongue into his mouth. It was her first Valentine’s Day kiss ever, and Amalia was ready.
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