Preparedness -- Snape Answers the Door Challenge

Dedication: to Koshka



The Last Temptation of Severus Snape



It was raining again. Then again, it always rained this time of year, the dark, turbid waters engulfing the cobbled, crude streets of Manchester\'s slums. The dark river, surrounded by a veil of mist and rain, was barely visible... the stark, gloomy scneery could have broken down anyone\'s resolve, forcing them to look for human comfort and warmth and acceptance. Anyone\'s but Seveurs Snape\'s.



No, Severus Snape didn\'t spend much time staring out of the window at the dark river, or indulging in melancholy, or reminiscing about the past. Also, having abandoned his former life, Seveurs Snape did not spend any time hoping that some lost soul would knock on his door. But, of course, it happened anyway.



Knock, knock.



A soft, and almost timid knocking was heard on the door. Severus twitched slightly. For a moment, he thought it was just the wind rapping, but the knocking was repeated again, this time a bit more firm, and a bit more insistent.



He sighed slightly, setting his book aside, and went to open the door and greet the intruder.



The uninvited stranger was a pretty – no, incredibly, breathtakingly beautiful young woman who stood at his doorstep. The first thing Severus noted quite abently, was that she was drenched head to toe – with the nipples of her breasts poking through the damp fabric of her thin linen dress. The second thing Severus noticed was that she was very well proportioned [the breasts were nice, he admitted to himself grudgingly]. The third thing that Seveurs noticed was the green eyes and the red hair...



“Professor Snape,” the woman breathed out, looking at him adoringly. “I came as soon as I heard you\'d survived Nagini\'s bite.”



“Touching,” Severus said dryly. “And you are...”



“Mary,” she said, eying him with devotion. “Last name is Sue... I came from America...”



“Hmmm.”



“Though my mum was british,” the girl said hastily, “in fact, a witch from one of the most ancient pureblood families in England. My dad, on the other hand, was a muggle...”



Severus scowled. “What has that got to do with me?”



“Oh,” she murmured. “I thought... you know... red hair, green eyes, and maybe you\'d identify with me due to the similarity in our background....”



“You thought wrong,” Severus said flatly. “Excuse me.”



He made a move to shut the door, but Mary stopped him. Her fingers laced around his wrist, and stroked the back of his hand seductively.



“We have more things in common,” she whispered. “I... I\'m a Potions expert. I hate werewolves, because my brother was turned when I was four and I witnessed the whole thing.”



Severus shuddered slightly and freed his hand from her fingers.



“Miss Sue...”



“Just Mary, please,” she purred, taking one steop forward to come face to face with Severus. “I am an expert in Dark Arts. I invent my own spells. I had to, you know? I\'ve been bullied in school by a bunch of self-important illegal Animagi for being so frighteningly clever...”



Severus looked into those green eyes and found himself short of breath. His resolve was beginning to wane. Could he really say no to this glorious apparition, could he shut her out, the way he had shut down everyone else since the war\'s end?



“I have excellent control of my vaginal muscles,” she informed him matter-of-factly. “And no gag reflex. And I\'m not oppposed to bondage, either... just imagine me, all tied up, on your bed, pleading for your touch, straining to try and kiss you...”



Severus let out a quick, fierce hiss of a breath... this was just too much. He was only a man.



Mary took another step forward, her full, rounded breasts pressing against Severus\' chest. She planted a tiny kiss on his chin.



“Oh yes, hiss all you want, my wonderful serpent.... I love snakes. My Patronus is a Basilisk. Have I mentioned that I speak Parseltongue...”



Something snapped at those words, and Seveurs came back to his senses. Quickly, Severus grabbed the woman by the slender, delicate wrist, turned her around unceremoniously, and marched her out of the house, into the cold, unforgiving rain.



Mary sobbed quietly.



“Why?” she whispered plaintively.



“I\'ve left the Harry Potter fandom,” Severus said flatly. “Frnakly, I\'ve had it with it. The Marauders, Voldemort, Dumbledore, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Alastor Moody, Harry Potter... everything about it was so bloody irritating. I have no interest in any of it anymore. I\'m done. I\'m on my own now. Excuse me.”



“But...” Mary looked at him with just a tiny flash of hope in her eyes. “What about... sex... and companionship... and....all the things we have in common?”



“Sorry, not interested. All the things that we supposedly have in common are just the things I\'d like to forget at this point. Goodbye.”



He slammed the door shut. For a few minutes he heard her sobbing quietly, before Apparating away.



Severus sank into a comfortable chair and issued a sigh of profound relief. It was over.



Slowly, he lifted his hand and ran it across the old, and now fully healed wound on his throat, and winced involuntarily.



And said, to no-one in particular,



“By the way, I fucking HATE Parseltongue.”





~ fin