Confrontation

In the Kitchens

Professor Snape watched as Hermione caught the shifting stairwell and ascended to the floor that the entrance to her house was on. When she disappeared down the corridor, he reduced both satchels and the burlap sack containing the moonflowers and headed for the kitchens.

When he arrived, he was surprised to see Professor Lecter cooking. The muggle looked up at him, smirked and nodded, then returned to his food, stir frying some vegetables. Several pieces of pink lean meat lay on a plate beside the stove. It looked like veal.

“I need service,” Snape called out.

Immediately a house elf appeared with a huge slice of chocolate cake, a fork and a large glass of cold creamy milk. The elves knew what he liked. Snape took the cake from the elf without a word of thanks and sat down on a stool drawn up to the counter.

Lecter dumped out the stir fried vegetables, tossed the meat into the same pan, swirled the strips about for a moment or two, then added them to the vegetables. He also sat down at the counter and began to eat. After a moment or two of silence, Lecter looked at Snape, who was blissfully consuming his cake.

“So, you and Miss Granger took the Forbidden Forest by storm tonight, Professor,” Lecter said to him rather suggestively.

Snape stopped eating.

“I cannot say by storm, Professor, but we did harvest some plants,” Snape said.

“Moonflowers.”

Snape scowled at Lecter. No one was supposed to know he harvested moonflowers. How did this muggle know?

“What?” the Potions Master snapped at him.

“Moonflowers. I can smell them on you,” Lecter said, “I familiarized myself with the flora and fauna of this world immediately. However, what I don’t smell is Miss Granger.”

Now Snape put his fork down.

“What do you mean by that, Lecter?” he growled.

“I would expect you to smell of pussy after being alone with the witch. Obviously, you missed your opportunity,” the psychiatrist said, popping a piece of veal into his mouth and looking at Snape with his strange eyes.

A low growl escaped Snape.

“If you are implying…” the wizard began.

“I am not implying anything, Professor. I know what is in your heart concerning that young woman. I can’t blame you really…she deserves a good ramming for all the trouble she’s put you through over the years. I suspect she’s been the cause of several of your stripes,” Lecter purred at the wizard, “You’ve given blood for the witch…a very precious commodity. You are well within your rights to want something in return from her.’

Snape stared at Lecter, saying nothing.

“Since you obviously haven’t fucked her yet, I suppose you spent tonight planting a seed in the witch. A sexual seed that you are hoping will grow into a full-fledged encounter. You are shrewd, Snape. You want the witch to come to you so if there is any nastiness as a result, then she will be seen as the pursuer and not you. She will have ‘asked for it.’ And you plan to give it to her, don’t you Professor?” Lecter said softly, his eyes piercing as he met Snape’s.

Suddenly Snape rose from his stool and strode toward Lecter, but the muggle was on his feet in an instant. The two men faced off, Snape looking down at the muggle. He had several inches on Lecter, but the psychiatrist evidenced no fear as his eyes glittered up at Snape.

“I suggest you keep your profiling of me to yourself, Professor. You think you know me, but you don’t,” Snape said, a small snarl on his face, “And if you even bring up myself and Miss Granger to another staff member…”

”Ah, Professor. I am a psychiatrist, and in that aspect…I am much like your beloved house elves. I keep secrets, Professor, because I have my own. Besides, I believe whole-heartedly in gratifying the animal urges. I find nothing wrong with fucking a woman who wants to be fucked, particularly if she is of the proper age. Your secret is safe with me,” Lecter responded.

“There is no secret!” Snape snapped at him.

“So you say, Professor,” the muggle replied, relaxing.

Lecter returned to his seat. Snape studied him for a moment then walked over to his food and picked it up. He looked back at the muggle.

“Stop profiling me, Professor. This is the first and last time I will tell you this. If I hear anything that remotely sounds like your ‘estimation’ of me, I will call you out. Since you are muggle, no magic will be used. I will beat you like your father with my bare hands,” Snape said to him in a low dangerous voice.

Hannibal arched an eyebrow at the wizard.

“Yes, doing a bit of profiling yourself, Professor. My father did beat me…as yours did you,” Lecter said to him, already disregarding the wizard’s warning, “But without magic, Professor or the protection of actually being my sire…I am sure you will find that beating me ‘like my father’ will not be so easy, if possible at all.”

Snape went stiff. Was Lecter challenging him?

Lecter made a big production of sniffing the air.

“I can smell the testosterone level rising,” he purred at Snape, “Whether it is because of me or Miss Granger I can’t be sure…but both of us are more than ready for you, Professor.”

It took all of Snape’s strength to exit the kitchen leaving the smug muggle to his meal. He carried his cake and milk down the dungeon corridor, his face contorted. He would have loved to have planted his fist in Lecter’s face, but there was something that stopped him. He wasn’t sure what it was. The bravado of the muggle perhaps? His confidence?

Although Hannibal Lecter could not do a lick of magic, he still had the aura of a dangerous man. Snape recognized it because he himself was quite dangerous. The Potions Master had only suspected it before, but after tonight he was sure there was more to Professor Lecter than being just a psychiatrist.

He would require further study.

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A/N: Ooh. Face off between Lecter and Snape. I think Snape was still high. Lol. Thanks for reading.