Snape Me

Disclaimer: I do not own Snape, Hogwarts, Harry Potter, or any of the related stuff \'n things. The character of Adrian Maraschino and the plot of this fic are my own invention, however. I have no affiliation with J. K. Rowling or Warner Bros. (Or, haven\'t you heard, they\'re hiring amateur porn writers now!)

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Hogwarts, Snape’s Bedroom. 10:30 p.m. November 3.

It’s a very frightening thing to wake up and have no idea where you are.

But it’s even more frightening to realize that you’re in Severus Snape’s bed.

The only reason Adrian figured it out was that she saw a set of his unmistakable black robes hanging in the wardrobe, because the wardrobe’s door was slightly open. And once she realized who they belonged to, everything else seemed obvious. The room was dark and dismal, the bookshelves were stacked with complicated potion books and bottles of various compounds, and the bed smelled like him-- dark, subtle, musky. It made her feel slightly odd that she even knew what he smelled like. And it made her feel even odder that she kind of liked the smell.

But that didn’t matter. There were more important things to think about right now.

For a start: What the hell am I doing here, anyway?

She blinked slowly, trying to piece together the puzzle. She remembered the awful detention, and then... Yes, that’s right, Snape had given her dinner, and she’d accepted...

And that was the last thing she remembered.

No. Wait. There was one more thing-- a fragment of a memory, so strange that it felt like a dream.

An orgasm.

She groaned softly and rubbed at her eyes. This wasn’t making any sense. Her memories didn’t fit together. Cleaning up slime, eating dinner, a random orgasm, and now waking up in her least favorite teacher’s bed.

Well, at least he wasn’t in it with her.

Adrian shook this unnerving thought from her mind. Okay, if this really was Snape’s bedroom, then it stood to reason that Snape would be somewhere nearby. Although she was still tired, and she wanted very much to just drift back to sleep and forget about all these confusing problems, she made up her mind to take action. She would get up and look for Snape.

She sat up and threw the blankets aside.

And then she realized she was naked.

She was too stunned to do anything except stare down at her exposed body, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging slightly open. This was getting weirder and weirder. Being in Snape’s bed was enough, but being in it naked? Which, in all likelihood, meant that he had seen her like this.

But why?

Her clothes were neatly folded, waiting for her on a chair near the bed. There was still an oily black stain on her shirt from the slime-stunning spray, and her wand had been placed carefully on top of her tight, stylish jeans. She stood up, feeling cold and vulnerable, and stiffly got dressed. Then she swept her wand down the length of her hair, performing a customized smoothing and de-tangling charm that she’d bought from a ritzy salon in London. Last, she looked around for a mirror, but there wasn’t one.

All right, no more stalling.

Trying to be fearless, she opened the door and found herself at the top of a broad staircase. It was dark, but little glass globes levitating near the ceiling lit up as she descended. And there was no sign of Snape.

At the bottom, she found herself in a living room that was simple but not sparse. There were quite a few crowded bookshelves, a clock, a few doors, a couple armchairs, a coffee table, a small fire crackling in the large, elegant fireplace, and a black leather couch facing it.

Adrian’s attention snapped to the couch. There was a dark form sprawled on it, wrapped in a black quilt. Her eyes narrowed. It was Snape, and in the flickering firelight, she could see that he was asleep.

Smiling wickedly to herself, she approached the couch. For once, she had the advantage. She could wake him up any way she wanted.

After staring a moment at his oblivious sleeping face, she drew back her hand and slapped him as hard as she could.

Snape jolted awake with a little yelp of surprise and pain. Rubbing his sore cheek, he looked up at Adrian and pursed his lips crossly. “Oh,” he remarked dryly, “you’re awake.”

“Explain yourself, you son of a bitch!” Adrian demanded furiously. “What’s going on here?”

When he didn’t answer right away, but simply lay there staring up at her with a thoughtful expression on his face, she slapped at him again. But in the nick of time, Snape caught hold of her wrist and held it in a painfully firm grip. “Please, Miss Maraschino,” he murmured. “Compose yourself.”

She tried vainly to pry away his fingers with her other hand, pushing against the couch as she tried to tear herself away from his grasp. “Let go of me,” she growled through clenched teeth.

Snape sighed in defeat. “Very well.” And he abruptly released her.

With an annoyed squeal, she fell over backward and landed heavily on the fireplace’s warm hearth.

“Careful,” Snape said languidly, pushing the blanket away from him and sitting up. “Don’t want that plethoric hair of yours to catch on fire.” He yawned. “It would smell horrendous.”

Adrian jerked away from the fire nervously, scrambling to her feet, even though the charm made her hair flame-resistant. “Get serious,” she hissed, taking a step toward the couch. “I want to know what the hell happened.”

Snape stood up, and suddenly she felt a lot less confident. He frowned down at her, his black eyes forbidding and unreadable. His white undershirt was unbuttoned, offering a clear view of his pale chest, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I’m going to tell you the complete and utter truth,” he said at last, “but only because I’m too tired to lie.” He gestured at the couch. “Please, sit down. This is going to take a while.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Adrian complied, taking a seat on the edge of the leather sofa. She watched him unblinkingly as he took a bottle of something from the mantlepiece and poured himself a small amount. Frowning solemnly, he swished the clear alcohol around in the glass before swallowing it all in one gulp. Then he looked back at Adrian.

“Miss Maraschino, there is no gentle way to say this.” He paused just a fraction of a second. “We had sex.”

From all the mounting evidence, Adrian had been suspecting as much, but the thought was so outrageous that up until this point she had refused to believe it. But now, with the words straight out of Snape’s mouth, it hit her like an iron wrecking ball.

Since she was too stunned to say a word, Snape went on.

“I slipped a compound into your food that heightened your arousal and weakened your inhibitions-- in short, it made you very, very horny. So horny that you would try to fuck the first thing you saw.” He closed his eyes. “And that, incidentally, was me.”

Suddenly Adrian’s voice came rushing back to her. She gasped, covered her mouth with her hands, and crossed her legs tightly. “Oh my god,” she wailed. “Oh my god. I hate you! You fucking bastard, what the hell were you thinking?”

Unruffled, Snape simply raised one eyebrow. “I was thinking that I wanted to get laid.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

She glared at him with unrestrained fury. “And couldn’t you just go about it in the normal way?” she spat bitterly. “You know-- go on dates, meet women your own age, build relationships?” She sneered at him arrogantly. “Oh. Never mind. I see the problem.”

Her insults severely injured his pride, but Snape didn’t show it. He just shrugged. “Anyway... you passed out shortly after starting to eat, and when you regained consciousness, you were so raving lascivious you couldn’t control your most base impulses. And then... nature took its course... and afterwards you passed out again.” He cleared his throat delicately. “And here we are.”

Adrian clenched her fists. “And here I go.”

She stormed to the nearest door and yanked it open.

“You may hide in the bathroom if you wish, although I really don’t see the sense in it,” Snape remarked, a trace of amusement in his voice.

Her cheeks burning, Adrian dashed to the other door, but found it locked.

She whirled around. “You can’t keep me here forever!” she yelled at him. “Eventually they’ll get worried and send someone to look for me! And then you are going to be in some major shit, Professor.”

Snape calmly poured himself another glass of liquor. “How do you figure that, Miss Maraschino?”

Adrian gaped at him. “You raped me!” she screamed.

Smiling a maddeningly smug smile, Snape looked down at the glass in his hands. “Are you sure? If I remember correctly, you were the one making all the moves. I was quite unsettled. I could almost make the claim that you raped me.” He chuckled quietly, and took a small sip.

Adrian couldn’t believe her ears. “You made me rape you!” she retorted. “If it wasn’t for that damn stuff you put in my food-- Do you have any idea how disgusting--” She was so flustered she couldn’t form coherent sentences.

“Calm down,” Snape advised her. “I’m not going to let you leave until we come to some kind of agreement.” He turned around, returning his glass to the mantlepiece and taking a small opaque vial instead. “Drink this,” he instructed, offering it to her.

She backed away from his hand. “What is it?” she asked suspiciously.

“Contraceptive potion.”

“I’m already on those,” she snapped. “I drink one every couple of weeks.” She blushed slightly at admitting to Snape how sexually active she was.

But he didn’t so much as blink. Nor did he lower his hand. “Drink it,” he repeated, his voice stony. “I will take no chances. I don’t trust those commercial preventatives.”

“And I don’t trust you,” Adrian shot back.

Snape pursed his lips in annoyance. “Do you want a child, Miss Maraschino? Is that it?” He shook the vial. “This is 100% effective-- against me, anyway.” Seeing that she was still hesitant, he sighed, and added, “There’s nothing in there that’ll turn you on. I promise.”

Biting her bottom lip, Adrian took the vial from him, careful not to touch his hand. The last thing she wanted was to get pregnant with Snape’s child. “Fine,” she muttered. Yanking out the stopper, she tilted her head back and swallowed the potion as fast as she could. It was thicker than she expected, and it didn’t taste all that great, at least it was a small dose.

She grimaced, handing the empty vial back to him. “Delicious. Did you make that yourself?” She gulped repeatedly in an effort to wash the aftertaste from her mouth.

Snape mumbled a yes and put it back on the mantlepiece. “Are you ready to sit down again? We need to sort this out as quickly as possible.”

For some reason, Adrian was suddenly feeling a lot more relaxed. She obediently took a seat on the edge of the couch, and the Potions Master quietly draped himself on the opposite end.

Snape looked at her inquiringly. “Out of curiosity... how much do you remember?”

Adrian shifted uncomfortably. “Um... just... the orgasm...”

“I see.” The corner of his lips twitched. “And... since that is your sole memory of the session... you will have to base all your conclusions upon it.” He stared at her levelly. “Did it feel like rape, Miss Maraschino?”

She felt her cheeks get hot. “Well, of course not! How can you not want an orgasm? But that’s not the point,” she stammered. “I can’t just let this slide.”

Snape pursed his lips. “Why exactly,” he began slowly, “are you so angry with me?”

Adrian drew a fierce breath. “Because we had sex and I don’t even remember it!”

There was a stunned silence.

“Oh... my god...” Adrian put a hand to her lips, then suddenly her eyes flared with rage. “Are you sure there wasn’t anything weird in that potion?”

“I never said that,” Snape replied coolly. “I said there was nothing in it that would turn you on. So... unless Veritaserum turns you on...”

“Veritaserum?!” Adrian nearly shrieked. “What is wrong with you?”

“Plenty,” he muttered. Louder, he said, “But what’s done is done. And I learned an important bit of information from it.” He smiled a slightly bemused smile. “You... actually wanted to have sex with me?”

Adrian spluttered in an attempt to keep from answering, but it was useless. “Yes,” she gushed. “I mean, n-- I mean yes! Well, I wasn\'t planning on it or anything... Do you have any idea how sexy you are?!” With that, she slammed her face into a pillow and screamed in frustration.

If Snape was the type of person who blushed, he would have been blushing. But as it was, he just raised his eyebrows and leaned back. “Well. I must say, this is an interesting development.”

Adrian raised her face from the pillow, her cheeks burning. “I may have to tell the truth, but you can\'t make me talk!” With that, she clamped her mouth shut and covered it desperately with both hands.

“Really? But it seems like whenever I ask you a direct question, the potion compels you to speak up,” Snape said with a wicked glint in his eye. “Isn’t that right?”

She struggled for a moment before dropping her hands. “Yes,” she mumbled miserably.

“So you might as well stop struggling, and we can get this over with.” He took a leisurely sip of his vodka. “Now then. Suppose I were to let you go back to your dormitory right now. Would you get me in trouble?”

Adrian snickered. “Damn right I would!”

“How cruel. You hate me even more than I thought you did.” Suddenly his eyes lit up with furtive curiosity. “But... How long have you considered me sexually attractive?”

“Professor,” she raved, unable to stop herself, “every Potions class for the past five years, I haven’t been able to think about anything except how freaking sexy you are.” She glared at him defiantly. “But the fact remains that you’re a fat-headed, annoying bastard and I hate you!”

“...Intriguing mix of emotions,” Snape remarked after a pause.

The clock struck eleven.

Adrian hugged the pillow to her chest. “Well... what now?”

“That’s entirely up to you. I can let you go any time you agree to keep tonight’s events a secret.”

She cast her eyes downward and bit her lower lip, thinking. “And if I don’t agree?”

“I would doubtlessly be sacked.” Snape had to think fast. The fact was, his fate rested in her hands. He was powerless unless he could think of a weapon... bribery, threats, blackmail... He suddenly thought of how often she took a contraceptive potion, and a sly half-smile lit his face. “You know... I doubt anyone would ever want to do you again after hearing that greasy old Snape got to you first.”

Adrian blinked. “That’s cruel and twisted... and perfectly true. My reputation would plummet.” She sighed resignedly. “Fine. You win, Professor.”

He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Say it.”

“I promise I won’t get you in trouble.”

He held her eyes for a moment, before nodding and getting to his feet. “I apologize for resorting to the Truth Serum. But would you have been honest with me any other way?”

“No,” she admitted. She tossed the pillow aside and stood up. They stood there like that for a few moments, not talking, not looking at each other.

Then Snape coughed and waved his wand at the door. “It’s unlocked. Go on.”

She turned the knob, pausing with her other hand on the doorframe. “Professor?” she suddenly asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

Snape, who had been pouring himself a third glass of vodka, looked up. “Hm? What is it?”

“...Thank you.”

He almost missed the glass. “What? Why?”

She drummed her fingers nervously. “For... giving me an excuse to do something I’ve always wanted to do.”

He didn’t know what to say.

She huffed in exasperation. “I’m just so frustrated... It... wasn’t really me!”

Snape didn’t meet her eyes. He spoke in a low, hesitant voice. “Perhaps... some other time... it could be?”

Adrian looked flabbergasted. “Some other time?”

Snape shrugged, gazing into the crackling flames, too embarrassed to speak. Suddenly he felt a light hand on his shoulder. He turned his head in surprise, and found himself looking straight into Adrian’s ice-blue eyes.

She leaned so close that her lips nearly brushed his ear. “Sounds lovely,” she whispered, so quietly he wasn’t sure he heard her. “But I still hate you.”

Then she left.

Because of his vodka-addled brain, it wasn’t until several minutes later that Snape realized the Veritaserum wouldn’t wear off for at least another hour. If anyone caught Adrian and asked her the right questions, he was as good as fired.

He cursed and threw his glass into the fire.

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Notes: This, my friends, is what you call a fatal attraction. Hmm. Not bad. Maybe that\'s what I\'ll re-name the story. I dunno, can you even do that? Oookay, I\'m rambling. Rate & Review, you people!