The Witch\'s Hair Shirt
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
3,921
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
3,921
Reviews:
31
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Two
The meeting was over, the groan of chair springs keeping time with the creaking of aging bones aaff aff members rose and stretched and murmured to one another.
Snape sat frozen. He was immersed in a fog of pain. He vividly remembered the Icelandic cliffs…had the chill from that morning ever left his core…
He struggled tll hll his thoughts back to a semblance of clarity.
On a peripheral level, he knew that the librarians were lingering, casting furtive glances at him. Since their arrival at Hogwarts last Spring, they always seemed to be on the edges of his presence. Was he imagining this or was there a truth to it, he wondered idly, still trying to draw his thoughts down to that sharper point. He had given them no more consideration than he did any of the other staff who played less than minor roles in his day-to-day existence at the school, yet, by the very virtue of this new feeling of familiarity, perhaps he should be paying a bit more attention.
He looked up and indeed two pairs of eyes were studying him. The staff room was now empty but for the three of them. He scowled and stood, refusing to indulge his body with any form of stretching or deep breath. He held himself taut on the balls of his feet as he adjusted his robes.
Crossing his arms, he looked at the young women in front of him. “Tell me,” he purred, and was rewarded with two flashes of teeth and smiles. \"You are always together, never a?”
?”
The one giggled and the other smiled nervously. He raised an eyebrow in question.
“What do you mean, exactly, professor?” smiled the one in a flirtatious manner. His eyebrow dropped menacingly.
“I mean exactly that.” Why was he playing with them like this, he asked himself. He needed to be alone. Immediately. But an inner demon preferred to shake him out of his current state of unease. He heard himself speak again, “Perhaps you embody a sort of mental Siamese twinship?”
Both stood quietly. “Well, we are identical,” spoke one softly.
“We’ve been together since conception,” echoed the other.
“But you make it sound,” said the first.
“As if that were a bad thing,” finished the second.
“Unless,” the first one again, with a wicked smile, “you have some,” he watched in utter disbelief as she slowly licked the length of her top lip, “curiosity that needs to be satisfied?”
“Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back,” whispered the other sister.
Snape’s inner demon was howling in glee, he surmised. His thoughts were very intently focused now. He should have seen this, he berated himself silently. He was very nearly in over his head; but he did welcome the comfort of having his senses sharpened to the glittering knife\'s edge that was his usual self. Yes, that felt good.
He looked from the lip licker to her mirrored sister, and the corner of his own, thin, upper lip lifted slightly in a sneer he knew from experience was deadly to amorous feelings.
\"Evangeline and Madeline,” he drew their names out slowly, “such a quick and generous offer to satiate my,” he raised an eyebrow and dropped the curling lip, “curiosity, was it?” He imagined his tongue dripping with poisoned honey, “Perhaps it would be best to remember, the only boast that the mice can make is that they beat the cat to the grave.”
He swept past them.
.
Snape sat frozen. He was immersed in a fog of pain. He vividly remembered the Icelandic cliffs…had the chill from that morning ever left his core…
He struggled tll hll his thoughts back to a semblance of clarity.
On a peripheral level, he knew that the librarians were lingering, casting furtive glances at him. Since their arrival at Hogwarts last Spring, they always seemed to be on the edges of his presence. Was he imagining this or was there a truth to it, he wondered idly, still trying to draw his thoughts down to that sharper point. He had given them no more consideration than he did any of the other staff who played less than minor roles in his day-to-day existence at the school, yet, by the very virtue of this new feeling of familiarity, perhaps he should be paying a bit more attention.
He looked up and indeed two pairs of eyes were studying him. The staff room was now empty but for the three of them. He scowled and stood, refusing to indulge his body with any form of stretching or deep breath. He held himself taut on the balls of his feet as he adjusted his robes.
Crossing his arms, he looked at the young women in front of him. “Tell me,” he purred, and was rewarded with two flashes of teeth and smiles. \"You are always together, never a?”
?”
The one giggled and the other smiled nervously. He raised an eyebrow in question.
“What do you mean, exactly, professor?” smiled the one in a flirtatious manner. His eyebrow dropped menacingly.
“I mean exactly that.” Why was he playing with them like this, he asked himself. He needed to be alone. Immediately. But an inner demon preferred to shake him out of his current state of unease. He heard himself speak again, “Perhaps you embody a sort of mental Siamese twinship?”
Both stood quietly. “Well, we are identical,” spoke one softly.
“We’ve been together since conception,” echoed the other.
“But you make it sound,” said the first.
“As if that were a bad thing,” finished the second.
“Unless,” the first one again, with a wicked smile, “you have some,” he watched in utter disbelief as she slowly licked the length of her top lip, “curiosity that needs to be satisfied?”
“Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back,” whispered the other sister.
Snape’s inner demon was howling in glee, he surmised. His thoughts were very intently focused now. He should have seen this, he berated himself silently. He was very nearly in over his head; but he did welcome the comfort of having his senses sharpened to the glittering knife\'s edge that was his usual self. Yes, that felt good.
He looked from the lip licker to her mirrored sister, and the corner of his own, thin, upper lip lifted slightly in a sneer he knew from experience was deadly to amorous feelings.
\"Evangeline and Madeline,” he drew their names out slowly, “such a quick and generous offer to satiate my,” he raised an eyebrow and dropped the curling lip, “curiosity, was it?” He imagined his tongue dripping with poisoned honey, “Perhaps it would be best to remember, the only boast that the mice can make is that they beat the cat to the grave.”
He swept past them.
.