Bound in Leather

well, here we are once more. back again to see if there is finally a break in the smutless desert. you'll just have to read further to find out, won't you? i'll make the standard disclaimer here. this so doesn't belong to me, with exception of Alasdair and Aletha and a few other people and places. the majority of this comes from the talented brain of j.k. rowling. i'm merely borrowing from her genius. i will, at some point, put the characters back where they belong.... maybe. i'm making nothing from the writing and posting of this work. i do it purely for the enjoyment of it all. and perhaps for the kindness of a few reviews.

warning: smut ahead. yes, you read that right. there is smut ahead. finally, the dry spell is over. be fully prepared by having an iced drink, a toy, cigarettes and a man handy. you'll probably need them.

finally, if you find you like this, feel free to leave me a little note letting me know.

Chapter Twenty Nine: Sweet Surrender
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'Professor Dumbledore? Are you here? I'm back,' Al called out as she stepped through the door. The office was silent and empty with exception of Fawkes the phoenix. He looked at her and trilled a soft welcome. She smiled, then continues to look around. Many of the paintings of former Headmasters and Headmistresses showed them to be dozing in their frames while a few others were gone completely. Alasdair stared around the large interior office that belonged to her boss and frowned. She couldn't understand why he wasn't there. She'd sent word to him to let him know that she'd be back today. He'd replied with his own note to let her know that he would be expecting her.

She shook her head and retreated from his office, moving to take a seat behind her own desk. It seemed an age had passed since she'd last sat in this chair and worked diligently at arranging the old man's schedule. She swore he didn't sleep in order to keep all of the appointments he made. Sitting in her chair drew a sigh from her, the ability to sit and relax a luxury she hadn't been afforded for the past few months.

She'd been a nervous wreck when she'd left the castle with Remus before the concert had even ended two months ago. They'd gone straight from the school to somewhere in London. After a quick trip by cab through city streets, they'd found themselves standing before an old, red-brick building with Purge and Dowse, Ltd. emblazoned across the front. She'd stared, wide eyed, as Remus had approached the window and spoken to the dummy placed there. Then he'd scooped her hand up with his own and literally dragged her through the window. She'd been sure that the people in the reception area had stared at her as if she'd been cursed with plague.

Remus had told her kindly that this was the magical hospital, called St. Mungo's. Al had only nodded her head and kept a tight hold on his hand. She was afraid, if she let go, she'd find herself somewhere on the seventh level of hell. He'd showed her the way to the small ward where the Healers had thought to put Aletha. When they'd arrived, Remus had introduced Alasdair to the Healer present, a man named Augustus Pye. Pye had told her in gentle tones that they hadn't yet discovered the nature of Aletha's illness and were still working on it. His announcement that he'd like to try some Muggle tests had left Alasdair believing that the man didn't know that her mother was without magic.

After a session of intense questioning, the Healer had left Al and Remus alone with her mother. Aletha'd been sleeping, pale and wan. It had reminded Al of how she'd looked when they'd lived with Kevin. She'd been ready to turn on Remus and bombard him with every ounce of anger and fear she'd possessed. But when she'd looked at him, she'd seen his own fear shining in his eyes, crowded in with the love he felt for her mother. It had taken her all of three seconds to realize that Remus was devastated by her mother's illness and afraid of what would happen. She'd gone to him silently and hugged him close, the two of them leaning against one another while they'd both cried out their unspoken words of fear against one another's shoulders.

She'd sent him off to get a good night's sleep that night, promising him that she'd stay with her mother all night long. The morning had found her dozing, one of her mother's hands clasped tightly in her own. Remus had woken her with a fresh cup of coffee that she'd been more than thankful to see. They had remained by her mother's side that day, watching the comings and goings of the staff and answering more occasional questions as they'd popped up. By the end of the day, the Healer hadn't really known any more than he had the night prior. The only thing he'd been able to tell them was that the illness didn't appear to be of magical means.

Healer Pye had suggested Aletha stay a week so that they could continue to observe and test her, to try and discover the reason for her unexplained sickness. Al had decided without a moment's thought that she'd stay with her mother until Aletha was well enough to take care of herself. With Remus' help, she'd sent off owls to both Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. She'd explained that she was needed at her mother's side and wouldn't leave it until Aletha was well enough to take care of herself. Both had responded that it was the right thing to do and to not worry about it. They'd also asked her to keep in touch and let them know how things progressed.

At the end of the week, the reasons for Aletha having taken ill were still unknown. The Healer had reluctantly released his patient into Al and Remus' care. But he'd given strict warnings that, should she suddenly worsen, they were to bring her back to St. Mungo's straight away. Remus had nodded and the three of them had left that same day. A few people Remus had called friends had come to help them return to the home that Aletha and her new husband shared. Al couldn't recall names at the moment, but she'd been treated with the utmost respect and kindness by the three Wizards as they'd helped take Aletha and Al home.

The days had settled into a kind of routine that Al was more than thankful for. It had meant she wasn't going to have to try and think. She'd been given a place to sleep and food to eat and she'd spent most of the days sitting with her mother. By the time she'd fallen into bed at nights, she was too exhausted to do much but succumb immediately to sleep. The only time she'd had a chance to think of Severus had been in her dreams and those had slowly died into something akin to faint memories that did little more than tickle the edges of her brain when it had nothing else to consume it.

Her mother's recovery had been long and slow. The Healer from St. Mungo's had come and paid a few visits to her mother. Each time, he'd been stumped as to what had been ailing her but had assured them that she was slowly regaining her strength and health. She'd spent some of the time when her mother was sleeping talking to Remus about what an idiot she'd been and he'd simply brushed aside her attempts at an apology. He'd told her with a smile that he'd have thought she didn't care if she hadn't had some sort of reaction to his condition. She'd told him to stop being so noble and let her feel like the horse's ass that she was. His laughter had made her feel so much better.

She'd spent the better part of the two months to follow doing everything she could for her mother and Remus. Especially on the two mornings he'd come back from his change. He'd looked completely worn out and she Al had been forced to nearly shove food down his throat. He'd collapsed into a deep sleep almost as soon as he'd finished eating. While he'd slept, she'd taken care of any wounds he'd received the night before and she finally understood why they were in such a secluded area. Remus didn't want to run the risk of encountering anyone in his altered state, even though he'd assured her that Severus had been brewing him a potion for some time now that helped keep him from turning into a ravening beast and slaughtering innocents.

She'd found in Remus, once again, a very good friend. In the times together where her mother had been sleeping, the two of them had talked about any and every subject that touched their minds. Both had spoken of their youth and Al had come out of that conversation feeling terrible for the lonely little boy Remus had to have been. She'd spoken of her life with her father and then with Kevin and very different it had been. Discussions almost always came around to Severus and they'd both shared little jokes and stories about him. Remus had been able to tell her about Severus' days at school, and some of them hadn't been as kind as she'd hoped. It had made her better understand some of his secretive ways.

They'd even, a time or two, touched on the miscarriage and how it had affected her. Remus had speculated on how it had affected Severus. Al had confessed to him that she and Severus hadn't gotten too very in depth about it. She'd been afraid to ask, afraid to know what it was he'd felt about the lost child. Their lost child. Remus had assured her that, when the time was right, Severus would tell her what was in his heart.

Finally, at the end of two long months, her mother had begun to show a marked improvement. Some of her color had returned and she was growing stronger. She'd moved from thin broths to hearties stews and then to small portions of solids. When Al had felt she'd been strong enough, they'd talked out their differences and she'd apologized for her remarks about Remus. The time spent helping care for him and for her mother had shown Al that he cared deeply and she'd admitted as much. The two of them had shared smiles and tears and so many other things and it had left Al feeling as if her life were back on track once more.

There remained only one last great hurdle to get over before she could say it was truly right again.

It had been Remus' insistance that she return to the castle early. He'd told her, in a gentle way, that she needed to rest up because she'd spent all of her time caring for Aletha and himself that she'd had no time to care for herself. So she'd owled the Headmaster and told him that she was to return. He'd assured her that he would be awaiting her in his office so they could go over the coming term and a few added duties he felt she could take on.

Except the old fart hadn't been here when she'd arrived. Al folded her arms over the desk, then laid her head down on them. She was tired. It had been hard work caring for her mother and trying to maintain her spirits. She'd been afraid she would lose her mother and she wasn't quite ready to do that. The fact that Aletha had practically kicked her out the door was, to Al, a good sign. Perhaps she could sneak a short, refreshing nap before the Headmaster popped up. It didn't take her long to drift off, head cradled on her arms and hair spread around her like a spill of liquid silk.

~*~*~*~*~

The gargoyle was turned away from the stairs, awaiting Severus. He frowned. Never in all of his years at Hogwarts, as both student and teacher, had he ever approached the Headmaster's offices and found the stairs to be unguarded. He drew his wand silently as he rode the stairs up. It wouldn't do to be caught unawares. Not by anyone. He wouldn't put it past Minerva to jump out of a corner with a pair of shears in her hand. Her last corrospondence had nearly screamed that he get his hair cut. He rather thought he'd leave it long just to spite the old bat.

The door at the top of the stairs hung open, something he found odd. The door had almost always remained closed before. This situation was getting more and more bizarre as the moments ticked past. Cautiously, he stepped into the room and stared. As he'd only briefly noted before, there was now an outer office attached to Albus'. This one had several paintings in it. One of them had a moon-eyed young man who seemed to be caught up with staring at one particular spot. His eyes followed the painted boy's line of vision and he stopped.

There was a head laying on the desk before him, a spill of brown hair painted with golden honey flung carelessly across the surface and completely obscuring the face that went with the long tresses. Still holding his wand in his hand, he moved to check out the open door leading into the inner office. Dumbledore's desk didn't look any different than it had two months ago, though the Headmaster himself was no where to be seen. Fawkes sat upon his stand, his eyes regarding Severus seriously. Severus shook his head and retreated from the empty office.

His gaze went again to the figure bent over the desk and sleeping. He didn't know who or what was settled there, but he had an appointment to keep. Dumbledore was expecting him and there was nothing he wanted to do more than get this over with and retire to his dungeons to have a good sulk before the term started. His attempts to locate Alasdair over the summer had been met with no success and he was wondering if she'd somehow managed to slip off the face of the earth entirely. Disgusted with the entire situation, he reached out and poked the mass of hair with the tip of his wand. 'Pardon me, but I am here to see Professor Dumbledore. Kindly tell me where the old goat has gone so that you can go back to your nap.'

The spill of silky looking tresses moved and shifted a bit, then the head beneath them lifted. He was greated with a mouth that was wide open in a full yawn. The girl, and he'd determined by this time that the mass of hair belonged to a woman, shifted in the chair and stretched. He watched as a pair of arms reached out on both sides and the hands curled into fists. Her back arched, thrusting rather pert breasts out toward him. Then she bonelessly slid back into the most recognized shape for a human being and he felt his heart drop to his feet.

'Severus?' the faint voice squeaked.

He simply stared at her for a few moments, unable to form a coherent sentence. Alasdair blinked back at him, a look of hope and confusion in her eyes. He tried to pull something intelligent from his mind to say to her. He'd been searching for her actively for the past two months and she'd been hiding out at Hogwarts? How dare she make him search far and wide, make him panic as he had, while she was sitting here! He didn't know if he was far more relieved than pissed off or the other way round. He only knew that, after all this time, she was there before him. His mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions. There was so much within him that he needed to get out and it all conflicted until he was only able to blurt out the first thing that came to him. 'What the bloody hell are you doing here?'

'I... I work here,' she told him, slowly getting to her feet. She was clad in an old set of robes that had seen better days. They were in a soft shade of blue that complimented her complexion, hair and eyes. The dress beneath was of a darker blue. He looked her over and frowned, his mind still too much in shock to make sense of her words. 'I'm the Headmaster's secretary. He brought me here after...' her voice trailed off and she had the grace to flush a bright red.

'After your conversation with Lucius Malfoy?' he asked her softly. He watched as pain flashed through her eyes. She nodded silently and ducked her head. Severus realized that the man had done more damage than he should have. He tucked his wand away and stepped around the desk to slip a pair of fingers beneath her chin. Her head lifted and she met his gaze when his fingers encouraged her to do so. She offered him a thin smile. 'Alasdair, why did you listen to him? He is little more than a lying sack of dragon shite bent on driving the two of us apart.'

She stared at him for a few seconds more, then let out a sound that seemed to be part laugh and part sob. She launched herself forward into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck with all the gentleness of a snake choking the life out of its meal. 'I love you,' she laughed, sighed, hiccuped and cried into his ear.

His arms came around her body, holding her against him for a very long time. He relished the feel of her lungs filling and sending her chest moving against his. The thudding of her heart echoed his own while he merely stood there and drank in his fill of her soft flesh and sweet scent. He'd ached to have her in his arms for far too long. Now that she was there, he was afraid to release her for fear she'd disappear on him once again. 'You should have waited for me. You could have asked me anything. I would have told you. You should not have listened to that snake's slippery tongue as he spewed such trite.'

'You're right. I shouldn't have listened to him. And I'm sorry I did,' she finally let go of him long enough to pull back so that they could look into one another's eyes. 'I've been going out of my mind without you. I think, if it hadn't been for my mother falling ill, I would have been batty these past two months. I was supposed to go spend time with Minerva over the summer but...'

'Your mother is ill? Is it serious?' he asked her automatically, his face showing a hint of concern. He reached up, cupping her cheeks with his hands. He knew how close she was to her mother and could clearly recall just what shape Aletha had been in when he'd first met her. He shuddered to think what would happen to Alasdair if her mother once more took ill.

'She's fine now,' she hastened to inform him, feeling at that moment just how afraid she'd been of something terrible happening. She gave a shaky laugh. 'But I spent the last two months with her and Remus at his home, helping take care of both of them. That's why you found me sleeping when you came in. It was hard taking care of both her and Remus. He nearly made himself sick with worry for Mom.'

'And what about you? I suspect you were not much better than he was when it came to your mother,' he commented dryly. She gave him a rueful smile and nodded, ducking her head. He chuckled and the sound brought her gaze up to meet his once more. 'You do not know how long I have searched for you. At first, when I found you were gone, I thought you had left me and I was angry.'

'I know. I'm so sorry, Severus. I shouldn't have let him...' she began, but he lifted a finger and laid it against her lips. She fell silent and gave him a look that told him he had all of her attention.

'After some time passed, and after a few choice conversations with several far more knowledgable persons than myself, I came to the conclusion that I had been a horse's arse in regards to your leaving. As I did not have all of the information, I had no right making assumptions about you. Forgive me for my less than cordial behavior toward you the last time we met,' he said softly, his face set in gentle lines of remorse that he was sure would never be upon his face again.

'There's nothing to forgive, Severus. I love you. And I don't plan on leaving you again. Unless you act like a horse's ass,' she smiled at him, her eyes watery as tears collected in them. He smiled at her, little more than a upward tilt of his lips at the corners, then dragged her against him with an almost painful need. His hands molded themselves to the contours of her cheeks, his fingers finding their way into her hair. Her arms slid around his neck and then their mouths were meshed together.

It was as if he'd been starving and only now just realized it. Her arms were a place of bliss and he never wanted to leave them again. Alasdair's lips were as soft as ever, tasting faintly of something sweet and fruity. His tongue drove in past her lips, which put up no resistance to the invasion, and plundered the moist cavern of her mouth. She moaned, her breath filling him as if she were breathing life into him. He pressed closer, his feet moving until she came to a jarring stop. The cold stone of the wall glanced across his fingers as he moved them back, further into her hair. He formed his body to hers, the wall behind her helping him to pin her in place.

Not that she seemed to be all that determined to get away from him. Quite to the contrary, her body was pliant against his own, her hands sliding from his shoulders to travel down the front of his familiar frock coat. How she got them between their bodies was beyond him, but the thought to ask her slipped from his mind the moment he felt her fingers brush the buttons that closed up the fly of his trousers. When those nimble digits began slipping said buttons from their respective holes, he thought his brain would melt and simply slither out of his ears like so much applesauce.

The moment her hand slid into his trousers and curled around his hardening length, he knew that there he would have to work hard to ensure nothing ever came between them again. Life during those long months without Alasdair, after a few short months of real happiness with her, had shown him just how sad and empty his life had been. He wasn't going to fall back into that pit again. Not if he could help it. The brief thoughts surrounding Alasdair remaining in his life were gone in a fleeting instant the moment she stroked her warm hand up the length of his erection.

Severus groaned, ripping his mouth away from hers so that he could stare down at her. There was an impish look in her eyes, one hand still holding him while the other moved to rest against his chest. His eyes were black as the darkest night and filled with the hunger he had for her. She smiled up at him. 'Is there a problem?' she asked innocently.

'Vixen. I must have you,' he breathed. He reached down to draw her hand away from him, then once more pulled her to him and brought his lips down upon hers. She whimpered as he plundered her mouth with his tongue, the slick muscle sliding along her own and leaving a searing trail of fire in its wake. She clung to him tightly, her arms reaching up to wrap around his neck while he shifted her around. The desk was behind them and he planned to use it for a far better purpose than mere paperwork. With a gentleness that he doubted had ever been attributed to him, he settled Alasdair down upon the desk top on her back, then pinned her to it as he lay his body over hers.

'I've missed you,' she whispered when he pulled back. The words brought a smile to his face that, in return, brought the same to her own. When she smiled, it was as if the sun shone directly upon him. Only for him. It was a wonderful feeling that he'd despaired of ever feeling. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms still locked around his neck. 'I honestly thought I'd never see you again. I'm glad now that I hadn't accepted Neville's proposal.'

'Longbottom proposed to you?' he demanded, his tone less than friendly. Al blinked at him, then laughed.

'You're jealous!' she giggled. The look he gave her was one of extreme affront, as if she'd offended him in the worst possible way. Her hands slid up to twine in his hair, her eyes softening with love as she stared up into his own. 'Now, Severus. There's no reason to be offended or jealous. You're the man I love and no one could ever take your place. Neville knows that. He accepts it. He said if you aren't good to me, though, he's going to properly brew a potion that will most certainly show you the grievous errors of your ways.'

'Did he now?' Severus asked her, receiving nothing but giggles at his answer. In response to her levity, he attacked her throat. His mouth moved slowly over the creamy column, his teeth and tongue chasing across the flesh to leave trails of wetness and stinging bites that would later become bruises. Her giggles quickly subsided and a sigh escaped her. She once more tightened her hold on him, pressing closer to his heat so that she could feel the rigid length of him caught tightly against her body.

'Please, Severus,' she gasped out as his teeth caught the lobe of her ear and bit down just enough to send tiny shafts of pain along her nerves. They knifed into her loins like a sharp spear of desire and saw her arching even closer to him.

'Please, what?' he lifted his head to stare at her, his words a lazy drawl despite their blatant need of one another.

'I need you. Now, Severus. Make love to me now!'

'Of course, my dear. You need but ask and I will happily oblige,' he whispered into her ear, his hot breath tickling along the sensitive shell. She shuddered beneath him and tightened her grip in his hair. A faint smirk passed over his face before he leaned up and reached for the skirt of her gown. She helped him, lifting her hips when he shoved the bunched material up past her hips to expose the length of her silky legs. She wore slippers and a pair of tights that he made quick work of, sliding them from her and tossing them away negligently. Then he was attacking the barrier of her knickers, a pair of lacy things that undoubtably failed to keep her warm.

The material tore easily enough, only to be discarded in the same manner as her tights. He stopped a moment to stare down at her, drinking in the sight of her exposed thighs and womanhood. She was already wet and ready for him, her netherlips plump and swollen open. Droplets of moisture dotted them, letting him know that sinking into her would be easy. One hand moved to trail over her mound, his fingers tracing the slit hidden behind honey-brown curls. Her entire body shuddered, a soft sigh of surrender escaping her throat. Her body went nearly limp on the desktop, her eyes regarding him through narrowed lids. Even so, he could see the hunger and desire burning in them. His hands moved to his trousers, ready to shuck them off.

'AHEM!' The clearing of a throat brought his head up, eyes narrowed at some point across the room. His gaze locked upon the frowning face of former Headmaster Nigellus Black. The old bugger was scowling at the two of them as if they were breaking ever school rule ever written into existence. Alasdair turned her head and blushed when she saw the look the cranky old man was giving from his painting. 'This is still the Headmaster's office. Not one of those houses of ill repute. I don't see a single scrap of red crushed velved anywhere about. If you intend on taking the wench, Severus, I suggest you do so in a place more appropriate and private. Such as a brothel.'

Severus opened his mouth to make a snappy reply, but Alasdair beat him to it. 'Piss off, you old codger. Just because you aren't getting any. That doesn't give you the right to put a damper in my fun. Why don't you go back to spying on Moaning Myrtle in the girl's bathroom?'

Black's eyes bulged in his head, his face going white. 'Well, I never,' he stood up and stomped from the painting, only to hurry back in and fix her with a glare, one finger pointing at her sharply. It quivered with his rage. 'I don't know what that little hussy's been telling you, but its sheer gossip. There isn't a word of that rot she's spewed that's true. Never trust a ghost. Especially one like that. Spying on Moaning Myrtle, indeed! What on earth could I possibly find interesting about that girl? She's as homely as the backside of that cat of Filch's.'

A monologue that was both speculative and impolite in nature followed him as the old man once more stalked out of the frame. Severus glanced down at Alasdair, who was still glaring at the now empty painting. 'That's right. Don't come back,' she spat before returning her gaze to his. She grinned at him. 'What?'

'You just spoke to a former and still very formidable Headmaster as if he were a wayward child,' he said, his disbelief plain to hear in his voice. She smiled at him and drew him closer.

'He and I came to an understanding my first week here. He kept telling me I was useless because I was a Muggle, so I finally told him that I'd burn all of his paintings if he didn't shut up. This is the first time he's complained since then. Especially since I keep a book of matches in my desk drawer and occasionally light one for no other reason than to torment the shit out of him.'

'How very Slytherin of you,' he quipped. She grinned in return. His eyes went around the room again and noticed that there were now several very curious pairs of eyes directed at the two of them. He gave them a sneer, then reached down to drop Alasdair's skirts back into place. 'I believe we should continue this elsewhere. Where it is private and there are no paintings to watch on and take notes.'

'A bed?' she asked, her face lit with mischief. 'Or is there a picnic table somewhere near by?'

'You shall have to make due with a bed, pet,' he told her, composing his face into a blank mask so that his smirk stayed hidden. She looked crestfallen at the news for a moment. But only for a moment as her lips twitched up into a smile again.

'Do you have a specific bed in mind?' she queried, sliding off the desk and to her feet. The material of her bunched skirt dropped back down to cover her bare feet. He did up the buttons on his trousers at the same time, setting himself to rights quickly.

'I do,' his head bobbed as he moved off to find her slippers. He returned a moment later and settled them on the floor before her feet. 'You should perhaps put these on. The floors in the dungeons can be quite chilly and I should hate for you to put cold feet on my arse cheeks at a most inopportune moment.'

Alasdair snickered, but slid her feet into her slippers without another word. When she was ready, he motioned for the door. She moved across the floor silently, his feet following in her path as they exited the office and descended the stairs.

The halls were silent, most of the staff not yet arrived. Severus would, on occasion, stop their progress by pulling Alasdair into one of the coves he'd often times discovered students lurking in in the past. There, he would accost her in some manner that left them both breathless and in a hurry to find his private chambers. His hands would cup her breasts and squeeze, teasing her nipples into points. Or they would seek out the heated center between her thighs, fingers dipping into her to tease and tantilize her until she was mewling mindlessly and begging him to complete her.

One such encounter saw him once more opening the buttons on his trousers, his need so great that he could no longer wait to make the dungeons. He'd been cursing the Headmaster's office being so far up from the main levels of the castle the entire time they'd been going from floor to floor. When Alasdair saw his intent, she lifted her skirts to expose herself to his view. In a matter of moments, he had pulled himself from the confines of his trousers and was ready to bury himself inside of her when something warm and fairly large moved between his legs. Looking down, he found himself staring into the bright orange eyes of Mrs. Norris. 'Bugger. Filch is coming.'

'What the devil is happening here?' the grouchy voice floated into the alcove only moments before Filch followed it. His face went paler than usual, his feature slack in shock, when he laid eyes on the scowl Severus wore. Alasdair had her face hidden in the black folds of Severus' robes, hoping that they could get out of this little embarrassment without much explaining. 'Professor Snape! I didn't know you were to return so soon. What are you doing in this alcove?'

'Minding my own business. Kindly get your cat away from me before I find a use for her in one of my potions,' he snarled then, grasping Alasdair's hand in his, left the alcove and pulled her along with him. She glanced over her shoulder to find Filch staring after them, the cat in question clutched tightly in his arms as if he could protect her from the Potions Master's wrath. Mrs. Norris' tail was twitching violently, as if she knew precisely what had been threatened.

It seemed an age before they finally found their way into the dungeons. This was obviously a part of the castle that Alasdair hadn't seen before, because she kept stopping to look at paintings upon the wall or certain architectural features not in other areas of the school. Severus had to keep dragging her forward. His erection was getting painful and if he didn't settle himself between her thighs soon, he was going to burst.

They stopped before a painting of a rather exotic looking woman clad in what appeared to be a diaphanous green toga. She had rich, chestnut colored hair that tumbled in loose curls down over her shoulders and back. Her eyes were almond shaped and dark brown, almost dark enough to be black like those of the man staring up at her. A smirk curled her lips up and she shifted on her lounge so that she was laying in an entirely improper pose. 'Password?' she drawled in a husky tone that was capable of sending a man into fits of orgasm.

'Faerie's blood wine,' Severus announced smartly. The painting tsked at him.

'That hasn't been the password for quite some time,' she told him, reaching lazily to capture a grape from a bowl near one of the legs of the lounge. She popped it into her mouth, taking an inordinate amount of time at sucking a single drop of grape juice from her finger. Alasdair made a rude sound in the back of her throat that made Severus want to laugh.

'It is my password and it would be wise you not forget it,' he told her evenly, though it was plain to see that his temper wouldn't hold.

'And who are you? Not the Potions Master,' she commented almost gleefully.

'I am Severus Snape, as I am quite certain you know. Your eyesight remains, undoubtably, as keen as ever. Now open up and let me in,' he demanded, his patience giving way to anger. He was so in need of relief and he didn't plan on shagging Alasdair out in the open hallway. Not when they were so close to his private rooms and his bed.

'Neville Longbottom is Hogwart's Potions Master. Severus Snape gave up his position in order to find himself a better life,' she drawled, her tone indicating she was bored with the entire conversation already.

'Neville Longbottom is incompetent and not fit to wear the title of Potions Master, much less the robes that go along with it. Now open the bloody door before I hex you off your hinges,' he threatened.

'Severus, darling. Welcome back!' the painting exclaimed, rose-hued lips curling up in a genuine smile. 'You know that was all a test. One can never be too careful. I did much the same with Longbottom.'

'I expect you gave him hell,' Severus drawled.

'I don't think he much cared for me. But you know that the Headmaster leaves me here for a reason.'

'Of course. If you would be so kind, we would like to go in,' he pointed out with a touch more patience than before. The painting's eyes went wide at that and she peered around him until she saw Alasdair.

'Oh, I see. And is this the Muggle that all the other paintings are going on and on about?' the woman asked, her gaze lingering on Alasdair for a while longer before turning her attention back to Severus. 'Found yourself someone willing to give it up, have you?'

'Shut it and open the door,' he drawled. As a manner in which to convince her to do as he'd instructed, Severus drew his wand and pointed it at her in a threatening manner.

'Alright, old boy. No need to get your knickers in a twist,' the painting drawled with a smirk. 'So, you're going to use the same old password as before?'

'Of course. No one comes down to the dungeons to see me other than the Headmaster. And, if they did, I have no doubt you would manage to scare them away. Now open up before I set you ablaze. It would take forever to get the smell of burnt paint and canvas out of the hallway,' Severus ordered curtly.

'Very well. No need to be all snotty about it,' the painting said on a pout, then promptly swung open to reveal a large door of oak behind it. The wood had been stained with a dark color so that it was almost black. It fit snuggly into the stone wall around it. There was a large, serpentine looking handle that Severus reached out and turned. The door swung open easily on silent hinges into a room that was nearly completely dark. Only the flicker of a pair of candles kept the room from being totally black. He stepped in, Alasdair's hand in his, and then pulled the door shut behind him.

'Lumos,' he called out, bringing all the candles in the room to life. Alasdair stared around for a moment or two, taking note of all the dark wood and plush cushions on his furniture. The hearth was empty and cold, a few paintings scattered here and there to give the room a warmer feel. One wall was nothing but book shelves, each one piled with more books than it should rightly hold. There was a desk in one corner, already piled with papers and other supplies. Alasdair turned to look at him, a curious expression on her face. He knew that she would require answers before they could retire to his bedchamber for a night of marathon shagging. 'That is Demeter,' he told her.

She nodded, waiting for him to go on.

'She was assigned to my door because there are no paintings here for her to try and seduce,' he added.

'Just you,' she pointed out.

'I have no interest in Demeter. She is little more than a painted whore,' he commented dryly. Alasdair stared at him a moment or two before breaking out in sniggering laughter. It died when his face remained a blank mask. Finally, he offered her a smile. 'The only person I wish to seduce me is you, Alasdair,' he told her gently. The words brought a bright smile to her face and she launched herself into his arms to hug him close.

The feel of her body against his brought his desire back to life, a raging fire that threatened to consume him if he didn't smother it within the wetness of her body. He pressed against her tightly, allowing her to once more feel just how much he wanted and needed her. A sigh slid from her and she pulled back far enough to look him in the eye. 'Show me the bedroom, Severus,' she instructed softly. He nodded and stepped back, taking her hand in his.

He made his way across the floor, his hand in hers to guide her feet. Alasdair followed without a word. A look over his shoulder showed him that her eyes were on his back and the way his hair, still held back in that long braid, swayed back and forth with each easy step he took. He smiled. He thought he'd perhaps leave it long. If for no other reason than to annoy the living hell out of Minerva. The candles flamed into life as they entered the bedchambers and Severus stopped at the end of the bed.

His eyes remained on Alasdair as she studied the room, seeing it through hers. There was shock there, as well as awe. While he didn't have the kind of quarters that would be fitting of someone of Malfoy's standing in society, the rooms he'd been alotted were indeed finer than some of the rooms he'd had while on the road.

Directly before them was a bed that was large enough to put a king-sized bed to shame. Large, heavy columns of carved wood spiraled up toward the ceiling at each corner, each one intricately carved with ancient symbols and runes. Severus had, when he'd inherited the rooms from the previous Potions Master, found himself both amused and disgusted by what he'd found on them. Love charms, fertility rights and any other thing to do with sex and sex magic. There had been a very long time where he'd lay there and stare at the bed, wondering what kind of complete idiot had laid down so many symbols and characters designed to ensure the continuation of the human race. Eventually, the novelty of the idea had worn off and left him to admire the honest beauty of the inscriptions.

Something told him that he and Alasdair would find new and interesting ways to make those entwined couples blush, as well as sit up and take notes.

The rest of the room was done in more of the dark woods, a pair of dressers settled on either side of an armoire. The other wall held one of the magicked windows, the panes showing the overcast skies that crowded close to the castle outside. A pair of large, heavy bookshelves that were already filled to past capacity sat as silent guardian to the window, towering to the ceiling on each side to frame the false opening.

He turned from his perusal of his rooms to find Alasdair was already sprawled across his bed, her clothes stripped down so that she lay there in little more than her skin, a wicked and knowing smile curved across her lips. 'Severus,' she purred softly, the propped herself up on her elbows so that her breasts were thrust out toward him invitingly. 'Come to bed, lover.'

She had no need to tell him twice. His robes slid down his arms, forgotten on the floor while he used fast fingers to deftly sip buttons from their holes. His frock coat hit the large stones beneath his feet with little regard to where it landed. He toed his shoes off, shoving them away from his feet while he worked the buttons at the fly of his trousers. They were off before he hit the edge of the bed, sitting long enough to pull his socks off and toss them away from him. Her hands were on him even as he turned toward her.

He settled over her, pressing her body into the mattress as he covered her with his own. Some sound came from her as she shifted her thighs apart, his thick erection settling between them as he took her mouth. His lips claimed hers, hard and demanding as they meshed together with her mouth. Her arms curled around his neck tightly, pulling him even closer to her. She was soft and pliant beneath him, the top ridge of his shaft nestled neatly against her feminine folds, slick with moisture and burning with heat. For him.

He marveled a moment at how well they fit together, then shoved the thought away as he dragged his lips from hers to travel over her cheek, down her neck, across her shoulders to her breasts. Her nipples were peaked, hard and taut and begging him to take them into his mouth. He did just that, his lips wrapping around them with a slow, languorous movements that stilled her breath in her chest for a long moment that broke when she exhaled on a sultry sigh.

His tongue knew this place and began tracing wet paths across the velvety surface, lapping at the taste of her skin. Sweet and thick like honey mixed with fruit juice, the slightest hint of musk beneath it all, the flavor drove straight into his groin like a jackhammer. His cock jumped and pulsed against her, making her writhe beneath him with sinuous movements that had him aching even further for her.

Body and mind battled for dominance. He was so aroused and wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep within her and stay there for the next fifty years. To fuck her into the mattress until they were both spent and unable to do little more than breathe. There was the thought that he should, after their last encounter, be slow and gentle with her fought with his desire. She deserved nothing less than his patient exploration of every inch of her body with his fingers, tongue and mouth. She was his goddess and she was entitled to his supplication at her feet. He wanted to honor her, bring her to the very heights of ecstacy and passion before he claimed her as his own and took her over the very edge of sanity into pleasurable madness.

She decided for them both. Her hands slid away from his shoulders and insinuated themselves between their bodies. He drew a sharp breath when she curled borht hands around his shaft and tugged gently, her hips arching up so that his head slipped in past the swollen lips guarding her opening and her slick heat closed around that most sensitive part of him. With a groan, his good intentions fled from him and his hips shoved down fast and hard. She cried out loudly when he filled her, burying himself completely.

Silence filled the air, only broken by the small pants they couldn't hold back and the sound of skin sliding and slapping along skin. He moved slowly at first, his thrusts deep. His eyes found hers and held them, watching as passion filled their blue depths to past capacity, then spilled out of her mouth in the form of moans and groans. She was exquisite beneath him her face slowly flushing with color as he pleasure rode her. Sweat already trickled down over the curves of her cheeks, along the smooth expanse of her forehead. Her hands were claws, fingernails digging into his shoulders while her hips rose and fell in time with the motion of his own so that each time he sank into her, he went deep and filled her so completely that they felt as if they were one.

It was a torture to him, to finally be inside of her after their separation and have to make the attempt to hold himself back. Alasdair deserved to find her own pleasure before he did and, through supreme effort of will, Severus kept this thought in his mind as he continued to drive himself in and out of her willing body. It was a trial, as she was so deliciously tight around him, her own body clutching at his shaft as it pistoned in and out. Her muscles closed around him firmly, holding him within her for a few extra moments before relaxing enough to let him slip out. They did this each and every time he settled into her body, making his struggle that much more difficult to keep up.

'By Merlin, Alasdair,' he panted, his eyes still glued to hers. She smiled up at him, the look telling him she was fully aware of what she was doing to him. It only last a moment as he twisted his hips, swirling himself around inside of her as if he were stirring a drink with a straw or swizzle stick. The gasp that filled the room bounced loudly off the walls. 'I swear you shall be the death of me.'

'So long as you take me with you,' she panted softly, shifting her legs so that they wrapped tightly around his waist. 'I need you, Severus. Its been too long. We can make love later. Right now....' she stopped and gave him eyes full of hedonistic pleasures and desires. There was a wicked, wanton creature hidden in their depths that he saw. The response was immediate and more than satisfactory. He thrust into her hard and drew from her a startled gasp that was a mix of pleasure and pain.

'What is it you want, Alasdair?' he breathed, holding himself very still. He was pressed into her body deeply, buried balls deep in the slick heat that he knew always had been and always would be his. Muscles flexed and she clenched down around him, somehow managing to drag him just a fraction of an inch deeper. A gasp rolled up her throat and painted the room with lurid red with her passion. She was so close. He could feel it in the way her body kept tightening around him, the way her breasts were flushed a soft pink and her nipples so tight that they looked painful.

'I want you to fuck me,' she told him, her voice soft and hoarse and husky with the desire swimming in her veins. It was all he needed. Bringing his legs up, Severus slid them into position beneath her bottom so that he was kneeling upon the bed. His hands found her hips and lifted her so that she ended up laying with her lower body at an incline. He slipped even further into her. The cry that tore from her throat was like sweet music to his ears, her body trembling around his as an orgasm ripped through her.

His eyes drank her in as he began to move once more, his hips flashing with a steadily increasing pace. Her eyes were now closed, hands curled into the bedding beneath her. Her hips were still rocking up to meet each of his thrusts, allowing him to plunge deep into her body. Her breasts bounced back and forth, her nipples so tight that he thought they had to be painful. Sweat slicked her skin, shimmering softly in the wavering light of the candle flames.

'I had forgotten just how beautiful you are in your passions,' he told her, his voice a silky soft whisper that wafted over her velvety skin and drew goose flesh up. Her hips bucked in response. her body was sucking at him, trying with desperation to keep him fully inside of her. The feel of her feminine heat closed so tightly about him like a glove was his undoing.

With a muffled oath, his hips began flashing faster. The tension at the base of his spine was more than he could stand, telling him that he wouldn't last much longer. Even now, his balls were drawing up tight in preparation of his release. There was nothing more that he wanted at that moment than to feel Alasdair fall over the precipice with him. He shifted his hands, moving one to fondle a breast while the other snaked between them to find the small jewel hidden between her folds. When his thumb brushed over her clit, her back arched and she rasped out a breath filled with the soft, keening cry of ultimate pleasure. She quivered beneath him, those muscles that were wrapped so tightly around him clenching down even more as she rode her release.

He grit his teeth, trying to hold on for a while longer. His thumb continued to circle around her sensitive nubbin, timing the moments when he grated across it with the exact moments when he buried himself deeply within her. It helped continue her release so that she throbbed around him. Her body shook and shuddered, writhing against his own as he pounded in and out of her. This was why he'd gone back for her the first time. And the second. And every other time after that. This was where he belonged. Joined with her, his body buried deep in her own. Giving them both the utmost pleasure with lips, teeth, tongue, hands and cock.

Alasdair was his and nothing would ever take her from him again.

The feeling of possession, combined with the feel of her body wrapped so tightly around his own, her cries of unending pleasure filling the air like the sweetest of incenses to tickle and tantalize his senses. She was so beautiful in her climax, her body flushed and her skin glistening. She was all he needed to fall over the edge of maddening fulfillment. The tension in his spine snapped, his cock swelled and his hips snapped forward.

His thrust drove him deep into her body and she convulsed around him once again. Her cry wasn't the only one to fill the silence this time. His joined with her own and together, they fell headlong into the swirling abyss.

~*~*~*~*~

It was sometime later when they found themselves curled around one another, tucked beneath the heavy silk of the comforter. Al lay with her head on Severus' shoulder, his arms curled possessively about her body. One of her legs was thrown across both of his. She listened to his heart beating steadily in his chest. 'You gave me a damned good fright,' he said, the words vibrating in his chest. It sent small, thrilling ripples running through her system.

'Excuse me?' she lifted her head so she could stare down at him. His eyes were still filled with the satisfaction from their earlier encounter. He quirked a brow at her.

'You ran off and gave me a fright. I had thought, for a moment or two, that you had left to be with Remus. I had thought that you did not want to be with me any longer.'

'I love you, you stupid ass,' she snarled, slapping at his shoulder with one hand.

'And I was to know this how?' he asked, once more lifting a raven colored brow at her. 'You never mentioned it to me.'

'Well..... you should have known,' she returned, her tone indicating that she was pouting. 'It isn't my fault you're as dense as a tree stump.'

'Dense?' he querried with a frown. 'I shall show you dense.' He rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath him with the weight of his body. She giggled, pretending to struggle against him. His hair slid over his shoulder, her hands having long ago removed the band and undone the braid that held it back, to tickle her shoulders and breasts. His fingers dug gently into her sides, tickling more laughter from her.

After minutes had passed and she was left breathless and begging for him to cease, he withdrew his hands and sat back so that he could stare down at her with fathomless black eyes. 'When I saw you upstairs in the office, I was unsure as to whether I should hug you or slap you senseless. I had searched for you for months and I was going mad not knowing where you were.'

Al smiled up at him, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek before twining into his hair. 'I love you, Severus. I won't leave your side again.'

'I should think not,' he replied, his face a mask of stern lines. She blinked at his tone and merely stared up at him in confusion. A wave of his hand produced a black velvet box out of thin air. He flipped it open to show her the contents of the box. 'You are going to marry me,' he said forcibly.

'You're god damned right I am,' she returned, then launched herself up off the mattress and into his arms.

end chapter twenty nine.
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as always, i'd like to extend deep and sincere thanks to my group of supporters. they keep me going through all the crap and keep me writing when i want to give in. i owe them lots and lots. they mean more than i can say and i can never thank them enough. extra special thanks go to, as always, my kitty cat and onyx for all they give me, which goes above and beyond the normal call of duty. i love you all so much.

also, as i stated before, if you read and find you like this, please feel free to leave a little note and let me know. i would very much appreciate it.

finally, a last bit of thanks.

to sheedy: i'm glad you enjoyed this last chapter. i hope this one is just as good. and i'm sorry to see it coming to an end, too. i've rather enjoyed writing this one.

to Miriam: thanks for reading, sweetie. i'm glad you've enjoyed it.i hope you like this chapter, too.

to star: glad you liked it. hope you like this one, too. i hope you had a good holiday as well and that the new year is good to you.

to l'etje: here's the make up. i hope this one was as good as the last. thank you so much for reading.