Another Dark Star

A/N: Lyrics from Girls Aloud; edited by me.


Chapter 12- 7th year

Their private lessons were charged with a tension much worse than before following Hallowe’en night. Sadira would still look at him longingly when she thought he wasn’t looking and Snape would spend the half-hour after her lessons in a foul temper trying to stop thinking about how her soft hands had felt caressing his skin and what would have happened had her hands continued higher. He wished he could cancel their agreement but he had been the one to offer and he had promised her. It wasn’t her fault his usually keen and intelligent mind had decided to take a rare detour to the gutter.

Besides; on an educational level the lessons were beginning to get interesting as they were covering more than just Potions. She was only really having difficulty with Transfiguration and Snape wasn’t going to touch Minerva’s subject with a bargepole, however she complained that since Quirrell came back Defence against the Dark Arts was rubbish and he saw this as a means to possibly get his wish.

Of course he wasn’t the official DADA Professor and it was a class of only one very keen student, but it was better than nothing. She was quick to learn but he was worried by her fascination with the Dark Arts. He biased her training as a way to discourage her from making the same bad choices he made at her age, for a similar reason. He taught her to duel, knowing her chosen career path, and she became very quick with her spells, managing some very advanced curses and counter curses. He encouraged her to work on physical agility so she took up running in the mornings and strengthening exercises in the evenings.

He also taught her a few tricks he learned from his days spying in the Death Eaters, although he didn’t tell her that. He had her sneak around the castle undetected, perfecting her Disillusionment Charm to improve her Stealth and Concealment, one of the tested modules in Auror Training. He taught her Polyjuice Potion and a variety of Glamour charms to change her appearance and how to read people’s body language to determine what people were thinking and who was suspicious looking.

Then she asked for the hardest thing of all; Occlumency. She knew he had been in her mind and had been reading up on it in research for Auror School. She wanted to be able to repel him or an attacker completely. He disliked the idea, but grudgingly agreed. It was to prove to become his undoing.

She had only expelled him from her mind through emotional stress before and her mind was woefully under-defended. He saw all her worst memories in the first lesson. The beatings from her step-father, her mother’s confusing contrasts between rejecting and relying upon her daughter, children teasing her for her ghostly appearance and mean stature when she was small, the skinny Slytherin bitch Victoria Chadwick calling her fat and laughing. However he was relieved to find that her stepfather had been unable to violate her, though the retributions had been terrible.

He saw so much pain, anger and humiliation he felt someone had written a play about his life and cast a girl for the starring role. There were a few moments of happiness, usually involving those troublesome Weasley twins or their older brothers, mirroring the blissful summers spent with Lily but there their common experiences ended. He had always been accepted, if not necessarily liked, in Slytherin. He saw Slytherin girls reject her, but one or two Ravenclaws in her year accepted her in a study-and-gossip based friendship and some friendly banter between her and that Hufflepuff freak, Miss Tonks, but no close friends since Charlie Weasley left.

By the second lesson she had made some improvement but she still couldn’t keep him out and the memories he saw then made him wish he never agreed to the whole stupid scheme.

A series of hopeless, fumbling boys; kissing her, touching and groping her, stripping her bare. The Seeker, Higgs; taking her to his room, taking her virginity then callously dumping her once he had what he wanted.

Snape found himself in a cold sweat from a combination of arousal at the sight of her naked young body and fury at how that idiot boy had treated, in Snape’s opinion, the most intelligent, beautiful, strong, wonderful girl in the school. He crossed the distance to her in two strides.

“How dare he treat you so shamefully?” he whispered, wanting to tell her how special she was but not daring to.

“It doesn’t matter, I didn’t love him. I just wanted to make sure I chose who to share my first time with, just in case I wasn’t strong enough next time Neil came home drunk. At least I don’t have to worry about him anymore.” She replied candidly, with a sad smile.

Whether it was the feelings left by her steamy recollections or how her painfully honest confession touched him he didn’t know; all he knew was next moment he leaned down and kissed her; gently, softly, savouring the taste of her lips.

He knew he shouldn’t have but it was too late. He expected her to throw him from her in disgust, but she responded warmly, parting her lips to allow him entrance, leaning up and pressing her body against his and clinging to him once again.

He was in Heaven, though he knew he was going to Hell for this. The feel of her arms around him, her soft lips on his, her tongue stroking his and her hands in his hair was intoxicating as he stroked her soft curls, her neck, her shoulders.

When he finally pulled away her eyes met his with a look of such love and longing it took every ounce of self control he could muster not to take her then and there.

“I think you should go back to your Common Room now, Sadira.” He said in a soft low voice, husky with desire for her. She smiled when she heard him using her first name.

“Yes Sir.” She replied, cheeks flushed as she regarded him coyly. She traced a hand over his lightly as she passed him on the way to the door.

“Same time next week Sir?” she asked hopefully, her question implying more than just the time of her lesson. He observed her for a moment, his conscience battling with his need for her.

“Yes Sadira, same time next week,” he answered her, not really knowing what he had just started, but revelling in the beautiful smile that was just for him as she heard the voice of her beloved speaking her name again.

She turned before she left and dealt him one final blow.

“By the way Sir, when I was with Higgs, I closed my eyes and pretended it was you.”


The next time he saw Sadira, he was glad there was a distance between them. An entire Quidditch pitch in fact. It was the first game of the season and Potter’s debut. Everyone was excited and had gotten to their seats when suddenly McGonagall pointed to the Slytherin stands.
“What on earth are they up to?” she exclaimed.
Snape turned and saw Sadira and a few other Slytherin girls, 6th and 7th years, stood on the front row in extremely short pleated green skirts and tiny tops in house green and silver, cheerleading costumes although he didn’t know that. They were carrying two-tone pom-poms and chanting a song while dancing a provocative routine.
“Make us worthy, make us proud.
Teach us not to be too loud.
We’ll try and fit in with the crowd,
But we are the Slytherins.

We can’t fight the way we feel,
We were born to keep it real.
Beater’s bats and balls of steel,
We are the Slytherins.

You bite us we’ll bite ya back,
Better be scared when we attack,
Feel the fear, we’re maniacs,
We are the Slytherins.

Check out our battle cry,
A song to terrify,
No-one can stand in our way.

We are the best,
So screw the rest,
We do as we damn well please.

Until the end,
For Slytherin,
Defenders of anarchy.

So scam all the Huffs, the Neats and the Freaks.
Blackmail the Gryffs, the Slappers and the Geeks,
And if they complain we’ll do it all again,
We do as we damn well please.

ASBO the Ravs, the Emos and their mates.
To torment the Slags we offer special rates,
And if they complain we’ll do it all again,
Defenders of anarchy.

We are the best,
So screw the rest,
We do as we damn well please.

Until the end,
For Slytherin,
Defenders of anarchy.

So scam all the Huffs, the Neats and the Freaks.
Blackmail the Gryffs, the Slappers and the Geeks,
And if they complain we’ll do it all again,
We do as we damn well please.

ASBO the Ravs, the Emos and their mates.
To torment the Slags we offer special rates,
And if they complain we’ll do it all again,
Defenders of anarchy.

Check out our battle cry,
A song to terrify,
No-one can stand in our way.

Victorious,
Rebellious,
We do as we damn well please.

Until the end,
For Slytherin,
Defenders of anarchy.

SLYTHERIN!”

Quite a few boys, and not only Slytherins, were cheering them on. Snape trained his features to an expression of cold indifference as his internal struggle raged between jealousy of the boys closest to her for being close enough to try and look up her skirt, wonder at how flexible the girl was, anger at himself for thinking such things, shame at his traitorous body as he felt himself becoming hard, and a little anger at her; for he knew she was looking straight at him when she licked her lips provocatively and ran a hand over her breast and hip.
“Well Severus, what do make of this wanton display?” Minerva asked, breaking his train of thought.
“Merely high spirits and House pride Minerva. We are after all accustomed to the cup in my office.” He said gloatingly.
“Well if those girls were in my House, they would have detention for such, such...” but she couldn’t continue and merely spluttered in frustration. Snape mentally forgave Sadira for teasing him.
Not often did he manage to cause McGonagall to lose her cool and Sadie certainly helped him win that battle. ‘But Oh Gods! When she did the splits! No, damn it, concentrate. Quidditch match, that’s it. Yes, there’s that idiot Higgs. How dare the useless twit use Sadira so cruelly? The boy was as dense as a brick, would only graduate with his Quidditch merits to offset such meagre marks as he had managed to scrape thus far. He didn’t deserve the attentions of a girl so intelligent she could have passed her NEWTs in 5th year. How had such an unworthy suitor managed to get into her pants?’
In his mind again played the scene of the inexperienced teenager scrabbling at her buttons, pushing up her skirt, stroking the soft marble white of her thighs and breasts, touching her swollen clit and moist slit before fumbling himself into her, barely managing to hold on long enough not to spill his load before entering her. Only now Snape knew the girl had been imagining him lying on top of her, the experienced hand of her Potions Master guiding her into womanhood. ‘And by Merlin, sometimes, in spite of himself, he wished it had been.’
He knew he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. He was jealous, he did want her and not just physically. She had a sharp mind, and tongue, come to think of it, and strength too. Despite everything she had been through she didn’t whine and expect sympathy. Instead she worked harder and he had seen the way the rest of the house had come to respect her.
She had proven herself a force to be reckoned with and ruled Slytherin house with an iron hand, much like himself for that matter. For once he had a Prefect who was on the same page as their Head of House when it came to discipline and control within the House and didn’t abuse the position. However it seemed she had some misplaced protective urges towards young Draco Malfoy. If there was one first year that didn’t need protecting, it was him. Still, she seemed to keep him out of trouble, which was what the brat did need.
Funny, how she had bonded with Malfoy and not the latest Weasley. His brothers, even the troublesome twins, had always been her closest companions. Still, thinking of the twins, back to the match. ‘What the hell does Potter think he’s doing? Damn, someone’s jinxed the broom...’

After that complete fiasco, with the added insult of being set on fire, Snape just wanted to leave the Quidditch stadium with what was left of his dignity intact. But the one witch who could deny him this was also headed in the same direction only a few yards ahead of him with the rest of her cheerleading ‘crew.’
As she turned she locked eyes with him and flushed, remembering how passionately those coal black eyes had bored into hers before kissing her like she had dreamed he would. Her friends also turned to him with fearful, apologetic faces, expecting him to take out his disappointment with the match on them for their earlier display.
“Sorry Professor Snape, about the song.” Sadira called, finally finding her voice.
He hadn’t the energy to do anything but shrug with a disappointed look and strode off down to his office, where he was safe from suicidal Gryffindors and horny Head Girls.