The Gift Horse

The Gift Horse The Gift Horse Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns all; this is just fun with her character. If I ever come up with a cool character of my own, she's welcome to do with it as I do with Snape! A/N: Part 2 of The Gift Horse, an answer to the Seducing Severus Snape challenge on WIKTT. There will be a Part 3. If this were a lemon meringue piherehere would be very little sugar, a thin crust, and almost no meringue. Just so you know. Rating: R for adult themes   Chapter 2     It had been six weeks since the night he'd received The Gift. Six long weeks in which Severus Snape had wracked his brains, trying to place the soft voice and delicate figure of the woman who had taken him so utterly by surprise.   It wasn't one of the faculty. Of that much, he was certain. He would have recognized any of them by their scent. He knew far too much about disguises and subterfuge to think he could rely on the sound of her voice and the faint outline of her form for identification; but the body's scent was unique, and required considerable effort to magically alter. Most wizards never bothered to hide their scent, as most of them couldn't tell two people apart with their noses unless cologne were involved.   Severus Snape was not most people. He could call that scent to mind immediately- the cool scent of cedarwood and sage, the soft spice of lavender accenting it ever so slightly: the scent of her toiletries, no doubt. And underneath it, the warm tones of her skin and hair, sweat and musk, soft and human and wonderfully intimate.   He thought he'd willingly pay any price to smell it again.   She'd been right about him. He'd needed to feel cared for, to know he was not really alone. That night had made more of a difference than he'd ever dared to think it might. He had dreamt of her for three nights in a row, waking to feel warm and safe and relaxed, and the sleep had been free of nightmares- as if she were guarding him in his sleep.   Either that, or there was something else in those beans besides Every Flavors. He'd rationed them carefully, and had only had three in the time since she'd left them with him. His endurance seemed to stretch two weeks, and no further; every other weekend he found it necessary to relieve the strain of newly rediscovered appetites that could be suppressed and ignored no longer. He'd allowed himself a bean each time, letting the memory of their night together pick up where the bean left off and finding at least temporary relief in self-pleasure. It wa the the same, but it was better than nothing.   He chuckled to himself as he moved about his lab, paying nearly all his attention to his work, letting one small corner of his mind mull over the question of who she was.   He'd been called to the Dark Lord again on the evening of that third day, and, despite all his dreadful expectations, he'd survi He' He'd come out better than usual, in fact; his relatively rejuvenated wits managed to keep his mouth shut for once, and he'd been able to avoid Voldemort's notice. He'd made himself as unobtrusive as possible, remaining quietly on the outside of the circle of Death Eaters, carefully making note of who was and was not there. He'd found a few useful bits of information, mostly tidbits of leaked information from the Ministry- sooner or later they'd figure out who the security leak was, and given the select nature of the things he'd overheard, he thought it might be sooner. He'd returned to Hogwarts blissfully untouched by an Unforgivable, and his report to Albus had gone quickly enough to get him to bed before dawn.   Thank heavens there were no more classes to teach. Not for another six weeks. And no students roaming the halls at all hours, disturbing the e ane and annoying him with their noise-making. He'd slept late the next morning, waking just before noon with the delicious taste of her kisses on his lips, and this time the disappointment of waking to find himself alone was bitter.   He considered her identity again. He couldn't call anyone to mind with that particular scent- none of the faculty, as he'd already decided. None of the Death Eaters- that had been the first thing he'd feared, but a careful cataloguing of all known Death Eaters had ruled that out. None of them smelled half as enticing as she had. None of his few acquaintances outside of Hogwarts- and no one from Hogsmeade, either.   That left students, and total strangers. On the one hand, horrifying. And on the other, the stuff of fantasies. He wasn't sure how much credibility to give either possibility, except that she had made it clear that she knew him. The fact that this placed her squarely in the 'student' category did nothing to improve his frustration.   On the other hand, he'd been teaching for nearly two decades. That was a lot of students- many of whom were now alumni.   First things first, he told himself. Make sure it's no one you're teaching now. The last thing he needed was to squick himself beyond all possibility of composure, but it would be better if such a disaster were discovered now, before things could get any more complicated.   He mentally ran down his class lists from the previous year. He knew most of their scents quite well, after years of standing behind them carefully watching for the scent of impending doom to waft upward from their cauldrons. Bianca Moreland had the cedarwood scent in her shampoo, but he didn't think the rest of her matched up. Judith Carruthers had the sage, but nothing else, either. No one else even came close. He considered for a moment whether someone might have switched genders, although it was unlikely. That was a challenging transfiguration to manage so thoroughly as to produce correct internal organs and the natural sexual response; he didn't even think McGonagall could have done it. Still, it was worth considering. He mentally sifted through the young men in his classes- Please, not Potter- but came up short there as well. It was virtually unthinkable, anyway, that a young man could so completely reproduce a woman's body in such realistic ways.   Which left him with an alumna. He smiled to himself.   I can live with that.   The quiet affair that was dinner at Hogwarts between terms ended just before sundown, and Severus returned to his rooms and settled down beside his fire to read a bit. The book was Muggle, a 'detective novel', he thought it was called, but it was entertaining. He didn't think he could ever bear to admit he read Muggle fiction, but it was a secret guilty pleasure of his. Between readings, he kept the book Transfigured as a shrunken head preserved in a jar of light yellow goo, which was gruesome enough to keep most people away from it.   He looked up after a long while, startled to see how much time had gone by while he read. He considered his place in the book for a moment, and decided it was as convenient a spot as any to stop. There wasn't quite gh lgh light from the fire to read by, anymore, anyway. Transfiguring the book back into its shrunken-head-in-a-jar form, he set it on the table and slowly stood, wincing at the wet-sounding crackle of his spine as he straightened.   And spun around at the sight of the shadow being cast on his wall, of a shapely woman.   The fire had gone out all in an instant, and the faint gust of air that accompanied that particular spell swept his robes around his body. The light that had framed her shadow on the wall was coming from a small candle on the windowsill, whose flame flickered faintly in the breeze.   "Did you miss me?" she asked, her voice husky.   "You have no idea," he said, his voice full of a smile she couldn't see.   "I just might, at that," she said in reply, coming to stand in front of him.   "How did you get in this time?" he asked, and she laughed.   "I have my ways."   He shook his head in amusement. Even though he knew that she still might be dangerous, might be lulling him into a false sense of security, he still wanted her to be here. He'd been hoping she'd come back; certainly he could not have been the one to come find her, and after her note hinted that she might like more, he'd had little doubt that she would come to claim it.   "You look better tonight, Severus," she said, her voice full of something suspiciously like tenderness.   "You say that as if you care," he replied teasingly, and she laughed obligingly.   "Would I crop up time and again in your rooms at such an inconsiderate hour, if I didn't?" she countered, and he smiled into the darkness.   "I'm much better, thank you," he said then, as sincerely as he could. "I am grateful."   She reached out and gently touched his face, smoothing her palm along his jawline, chuckling at the soft rasp of a day's worth of whiskers. "I'm glad,' she said simply, and then her mouth came up to touch his.   The intensity of the shift in mood took him completely by surprise. Desire burst into full flame as her lips caressed his, and he went from hesitant gentleman to hungry male in a heartbeat. He slanted his mouth over hers, flicking his tongue sensuously across her lips and coiling his arms around her, drawing her into his embrace and bending her to fit into the curves and angles of his body.   Her hands laced up through his hair, grasping and gently massaging, and he heard a delighted feminine whimper of pleasure as he kissed her still harder. A sizzle of triumph sliced down his spine to shiver in his groin, and he shifted a bit to accommodate the growing evidence of his attraction to her. She rubbed herself against him when she noticed it, grinding her pelvis against his in a wordless plea for touch. He complied, cupping her buttocks in his hands, lifting her and pressing her closer to him, moaning himself at the friction they generated.   Severus broke the kiss a moment later, fiercely aroused by the soft sound of her panting, and he cupped her face in his hands.   "I have missed you so much," he murmured, and she shivered.   "I've missed you, too," she replied, and he tilted her face slightly toward the candle's flame.   "I wish I had a name to miss along with your body," he said, almost wistfully, knowing she would deny him again.   "No, you don't," she said, and he felt her cheeks crinkle as she smiled in the frame of his hands. "It wouldn't give you the truth of the matter even if I told you my name. There's more to who we are than a name and a soul."   "Good point," he growled, lowering his mouth to hers again. He wanted her so badly that he found conversation annoying; his body was threatening mutiny if he didn't let go of his control at least a little. He let his hands wander down her body, caressing breasts and hips in soft yet urgent sweeps. She was clothed this time, in ordinary robes it seemed, and he reached unerringly for the clasps at her front.   "One moment," she murmured, twining her fingers through his and drawing his hands away from herself.   "Don't," he said softly, and she paused. "Let me." And his hands returned to her clothing, deftly undoing the closures and trembling with desire at the lack of cloth which he found beneath. Sliding his palms across her bare shoulders and down her sides to her legs, he paused suddenly.   "What-" he murmured, feeling the faintest whisper of softness along her legs. He looked down, and in the glint of the candlelight he could see the softest shimmer of… he didn't know what.   "They're Muggle," she whispered into his ear. "The men certainly seem to like them- I thought you might, too." She stepped away from him then, shrugging out of her robes, and he saw that her legs were clad in the sheerest stockings he'd ever seen. There was a seam up the back, he saw as she pirouetted slowly for him, and the tops ended enticingly just below the area that most drew him now, shadowed but not hidden from his gaze.   Her fingers sensually slid beneath the straps that held up the stockings. "Garter belt," she said by way of explanation, and he heard the satisfaction in her voice. He knew it must be because of the look on hice; ce; he couldn't take his eyes off her legs. He'd always thought himself a breast man- a quick glance up her body to where the soft candlelight gilded the swell of her breasts, and the ensuing intensification of his erection proved to him that he still was- but this was something to behold, indeed.   "I may have to rethink my opinion of Muggle intelligence," he muttered, sitting in the chair to marvel some more.   She laughed and confidently walked toward him again, hips swinging, hair swirling around to curl about her breasts in an unspoken invitation to touch.   He put his hands on her hips, looking up into her face, hidden by her hair. He drew her to stand between his thighs, suddenly, sharply aware of the scent of aroused woman. Slowly, he let his hands slide down, over the silk of the belt and the silk below where it ended, across her smooth skin to the top of the stockings.   Sensitive fingers trailed along the silken fabric, incredibly aroused by what was at once a contrast and a similarity between her body and the stockings. Curves and dips seemed accentuated by the texture of the fabric, and he explored every one, his breathing coming faster. He never would have thought that such a thing would turn him on- but once again she knew him better than he knew himself. He leaned in to place a hot kiss on her belly, softly flicking his tongue against her skin, and her hiss of pleasure thrilled him.   In that moment, he made a decision. Last time had been because he needed it. Tonight would be because he wanted it. He wanted to learn her as she already seemed to know him, to find what pleased her and what made her shiver and moan and writhe. He wanted to make her want him, too.   To that end, he drew her slightly closer, bringing her right up against his mouth, and he let his lips slide lower and lower until they were gently nudging the soft curls between her thighs. He wrapped his arms around her, fingers gently parting her for what he craved, and he smiled slightly at the soft whine of pleasure she emitted at the soft touch of his tongue on her folds.   He laved her gently at first, faint traces of touch that whispered pleasure to her nerve endings and washed her in promises of more to come. Her hips began to rock against him; encouraged, he pressed more deeply into her, letting his lips and tongue caress her more vigorously. One hand slid back around to her belly, and one deft finger slid into the moist patch he'd created for them, finding the scrap of delighted flesh that craved his touch and fondling it just so.   She came undone in less than a minute, her wild cries of completion stealing his breath and nearly paralyzing him with arousal. He felt the wetness of her on his tongue, felt her body limp against him in completion, and his chest felt tight and his pants felt tight and he'd never known such fierce desire for a woman in his life.   He lowered her to his lap for a moment, kissed her deeply. She responded as if she were right back on the edge of the precipice, her body keening for his, and he nearly cried out when her hands slid down to where his erection reached impatiently for her. She undid the buttons in record time, incredibly resisting the urge to rip them all off, and then there was nothing between her skin and his.   He did cry out then, a ragged cry of need and want, and her smooth hands fondled him and gripped him with practiced ease. He'd never pleasured himself this well, that much was certain, he thought as his brain finally shut down altogether.   He could feel himself leaking, knew his control was close to slipping, and had nearly determined that it was time to move things on a bit, when she slid off his lap and to the floor. In the next instant, Severus's heart nearly leapt out of his chest as her warm mouth closed around him with firm, expert suction. Her tongue caressed the soft, sensitive underside of hick wck with long strokes and occasional soft flickers, and before she'd been at it for more than ten strokes, he was begging her.   "Please," he gasped, not sure he could articulate more. "Please- I need you."   She let him go long enough to say, "You've got me right here," her tone teasing, and then plunged him back into the slick tightness of her mouth.   He moaned, his hands closing convulsively in her hair, urging her on even as his words begged her to stop. "It's incredible," he managed on a strangled groan. "But… I want- Oh!" He was interrupted by his own hoarse cry of surprised lust as she wrapped her hand around him and pumped his cock in time with her mouth's wet strokes. It took all his self-control not to sail right over the edge with that provocation, but he managed, gritting his teeth and thinking of Neville Longbottom to pull himself back just a little. It was a mark of how arousing he found this woman that even thoughts of Neville couldn't distract him from the pleasure for long.   "I want to be inside you when it happens."   She stilled, released him, and in a sudden reversal that startled him as much for its physical abruptness as it did for its inherent understanding of what he wanted, she stood and moved to his bed.   His bed. They hadn't made it this far the last time. He was looking forward to it, already savoring the lingering scent of her on his pillow. He followed her wordlessly, shedding his own clothing hurriedly before joining her amid the age-softened cotton of his sheets.   She lay back, letting him lead, and again he marveled that she knew what he wanted without his having to ask. He wrapped his arms around her for a moment, holding her tightly, and then backed up enough to kiss her again. He couldn't see her well in the soft half-light of a single candle, but he could see the faint curve of her lips as she smiled. She arched her neck in silent invitation, and he could not resist.   He gently suckled the skin of her neck, biting playfully, and she shivered against him. "Ooh…likelike that," she said softly, and he made a soft 'mmm' of appreciation. It was incredibly sexy to hear her tell him what she liked. He kissed, nuzzled, licked, and suckled his way along her neck, and then gradually let his mouth graze her collarbone and softly slide lower to her breasts.   Severus sighed with pleasure as he let his hands glide up to join his mouth in teasing her nipples. Definitely a breast man, he decided. He suckled with slightly increased force on her other breast, and was rewarded with her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. He smiled at that; no one ever touched his hair, and it felt incredible in ways that went beyond sex.   Her soft moans and breathy cries, combined with the erotic feel of her breasts in his mouth, had brought him back to the edge once again, and he softly let go of her nipple with a long tugging suck. Sitting halfway up, he leaned over her, mentally reciting references from the second-year Potions textbook to keep from losing control of himself at the sight of the lovely figure stretched out beneath him.   Her thighs were parted- he only now realized that she'd had her legs twined about his as he'd pleasured her breasts- and she adjusted herself slightly to lie fully on her back as he moved onto his knees and came over her. Her arms came up to embrace him as he shifted to lie in the cradle of her hips. The silky feel of the stockings on his outer thighs stimulated him still more, and he bit back a gasp as she slid one leg up over his hip to pull him closer.   "I've missed you," she murmured into his ear, and he shivered.   I've missed you for longer than I've known you, he thought fervently as he reached down and aligned their bodies. She arched against him, keening with delight, and he slowly, sensuously caressed her with the tip of his cock. He was leaking more than a little, and the slick fluid added to her own wetness was more than enough to ease the way. When she was nearly sobbing with want, he let them both have what they wanted.   It was warm, it was tight, it was perfect- it was more than either of them could stand after the long, slow build of passion they'd shared. With a hoarse groan, Severus let himself go, thrusting rhythmically and feeling his body urge him to go faster as he responded to the wild cries and tense movements of thman man beneath him. She was thrusting her own hips to meet his, her legs tightly wrapped around his waist. He had one hand bracing him over her, and the other had slid down to feel the delicious sensation of her thigh muscles working hard beneath the smooth fabric of the stockings.   "God, those are so sexy," he groaned involuntarily, and she laughed- a throaty, sensual, intimate sound, and it felt as if someone had sent lightning into every pleasure center in his brain.   "I'm glad you like them."   He couldn't wait any more, then, and his thrusts became deep, hard, and unsophisticated. She seemed to like the sight of a Severus Snape beyond manners, too driven by passion to bother with appearances, too swept up in pleasure to worry about vulnerability. He caught her in his arms, drew her to his chest, and buried his face in her neck before stiffening in a climax so loud that it would have echoed from Gryffindor Tower if she hadn't held it in against her skin.   Then, an instant later, she was there too, and he'd recovered just enough to thrust through her orgasm and draw it out until she bucked with overstimulation.   Sweaty, sated, and content, Severus rolled to the side and took her with him, gently wiping her hair out of her eyes and kissing her mouth tenderly.   "How do you do that to me?" he asked, his voice so soft she almost didn't realize he had spoken.   "Do what?"   "Make me forget I'm a greasy-haired git with all the social finesse of the Ebola virus, and just about as welcome in mixed company. That I'm not the sort of man anyone would ever want to do this with. That I have a horrid life that won't go away just because I've had a few moments of heaven."   She smiled against his chest as she snuggled up to him. "I don't make you forget anything," she said simply. "I make you see the truth."   He snorted, and left it at that. "I'd love to see what my sixth years would think of your theory." He said no more on the matter, not certain why he'd even made such a maudlin comment to her- except that he honestly wanted to know. But if, to her, he was wonderful, then that was yet another gift horse in whose mouth he had no intention of looking.   "Don't go," he murmured as she shifted. "Don't be gone in the morning. I couldn't bear it- not again. I don't care who you are, even if you are a student. I'll find a way for this to work."   "Would you really want this on a long term basis right now, Severus?" she asked softly. "Even assuming I were free to indulge. I could be a liability to you in the fight, and I know it. And even knowing that, I can't protect myself in any meaningful way from those who would use me against you."   He traced her nose with his index finger. "Would you want it, if it were possible?"   She was silent for a long moment, and it was only when she spoke that Severus realized she was weeping.   "Yes." Her voice was thick with tears, and he frowned with concern.   "Don't worry," she reassured him hastily. "There's nothing wrong. It's just that- well, this is complicated. It has to do with why I can't tell you who I am. Not yet. Someday- but not yet."   He put his arm around her again, and kissed her tears away.   "Then I will wait," he said, and she laughed softly.   They slept.   The next morning, there was another note. He had known she would be gone, but this time the sting was less, because he knew she would much rather have stayed. He could still see the faint marks of her tears on his pillow-   He lifted the pillow to his nostrils and breathed deeply, shivering with delight when he caught that familiar, precious scent. He breathed it in again, then reluctantly laid the pillow aside, where the house elves would know not to change the case. He would ration the scent until it faded to where even his sensitive nose could not detect a trace of it.   The parchment of her note was propped up against the back of his chair, and he laughed when he lifted it to find the stockings underneath it.   Dearest Severus, I would truly rather have stayed. I want to know how you look when you sleep, and how you look when you wake. I want to love you with the freshness of a night's sleep behind all that we do, and with the promise of a day in the light together afterward. I hope that someday I can tell you who I am without risk to either of us; it pains me to leave you. I'm glad you enjoyed the stockings so much. I left them for you as a memento- and a reminder. I know you'll be tempted to convince yourself that you dreamt it all, but I am real. So is what lies between us. It has nothing to do with fantasy, not anymore, and everything to do with the ideal world in which we do not live. But again- that cannot last forever. I never thought I would feel this way for anyone. Until I met you, I had believed it impossible. It would seem that, this time, it is you who have given me the gift. Until next time, I remain,   The Gift Horse     Snape smiled to himself as he dressed for the day, and just before he left his rooms, he lifted the pillow for one last breath.   Come back soon, he thought silently.           A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought of it. I'm deliberately trying to keep plot out of it for the most part- this chapter was meant to contain the lemons that keep trying to leak into Soul Searching before it's time! I hope this tides some of you over for that as well…. I'm working on the next chapter of both SS and TGH as we speak. Reviews for both stories always welcome! Email to quillusion@yahoo.com. Thanks!