Star Sisters

Chapter III: Bludgers, Butterbeer and Brazen Behaviour

‘Shit, Morgana! Fred and George told me about your fall! Are you alright? Let me have a look at you!’

Morgana looked up from the book she was reading and rolled her eyes at her friend’s fussing. ‘Nobody has died of bruises yet, Charis. But this is definitely the last time I volunteer to step in as Beater during Quidditch practice. Let’s face it: I’m not a good flier.’

‘Bruises?’ Charis frowned and started pulling at the bed sheets. ‘Poppy wouldn’t keep you here for bruises, now would she? Show me!’

With a sigh, Morgana freed her leg from the sheets and pulled up her hospital gown, revealing an awfully swollen knee and bluish-yellow bruises.

Charis winced and then gave her friend a sympathetic look. ‘God, that looks nasty. Does it hurt?’

‘Only when I dance,’ came Morgana’s slightly irritated answer.

Charis laughed. ‘Well, no problems there, seeing as you don’t dance. But, just in case that it does hurt, I brought some Butterbeer. For anaesthetic purposes, of course.’ Then her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘You’re sure Poppy’s not here?’

Morgana nodded. Poppy had informed her that she would be gone for at least an hour, since she had to talk to the Headmaster.

Morgana studied Charis as she wobbled and sat on the bed beside her with a giggle. Her Ravenclaw friend, although seemingly quiet at first, had a liking for alcohol that Morgana quietly disapproved of. Charis drank to come out of her shell, Morgana understood that, but she secretly thought that Charis overdid it sometimes.

She could smell the alcohol on her friend’s breath now. No doubt there was yet another party in Ravenclaw Tower. Ravenclaws, so it seemed, worked hard and played even harder. And it amused Morgana to think that the very students who valued intellect above anything else were also the ones with a predisposition for consuming substances which would ravage their brain cells.

‘Where did you get that beer?’ Morgana asked innocently.

‘Some sixth-year is having a birthday party in the common room. I said I’d just have one …’

Morgana snorted. ‘Yeah right. Beer is a gregarious animal. There is no such thing as one beer. Chocolate Frog?’

Charis nodded eagerly and stuffed a Frog into her mouth. All that Butterbeer had made her hungry. ‘Hmm, delicious.’ She chewed thoughtfully whilst looking around Morgana’s bed, her eyes finally landing on a huge, dark green box of chocolates tied with a silver bow. Her eyes widened. ‘Who did you get them from?’

‘You tell me.’ Morgana honestly didn’t know. She knew that the box of Frogs was from the Weasley twins, but she had no idea about the big, imposing, expensive-looking box.

‘God, Morgana, it could be anyone,’ Charis said, with a mouthful of Frog. ‘God knows you have enough Slytherin admirers. And there is this third-year Hufflepuff who always blushes when he sees you.’

‘Now, that’s because I happened to walk in on him in the Quidditch locker room one day.’

Charis giggled. ‘Come on, you know that you are popular with the boys.’

To that, Morgana said nothing. Instead, she Vanished the caps of the Butterbeer bottles and offered one bottle to Charis, who immediately took a healthy gulp.

‘Hm, would love to have a snack with that,’ she mused, smacking her lips with relish. The Frog had set off her appetite.

‘Now that can be arranged. I have connections, you know.’ Morgana smiled and called for an elf. ‘Winky?’

With a loud crack, the elf Apparated right in front of the bed, wearing nothing but a dirty tea towel. ‘Miss called?’

‘Any requests, Charis?’

Charis looked at her friend and grinned. ‘How about some chicken sandwiches?’

‘Would you mind, Winky?’ Morgana asked with a smile so sweet that Charis almost choked on her Butterbeer. Since when was Morgana nice?

The elf, however, seemed to have seen that behaviour before. ‘Miss is always so nice to Winky.’

‘That’s because you are cute,’ Morgana replied. ‘Here, have a posh choc for your trouble.’ Morgana reached over to grab the impressive green box from the side table.

Winky stumbled backwards. ‘Winky couldn’t, Miss.’

‘Why? Don’t you like them?’

‘Winky knows where the chocolates come from, Miss. They come from a bad, bad wizard.’

The girls look at each other open-mouthed. ‘Winky?’

The elf started to tremble. ‘Winky should not have said anything. Winky did wrong.’

Morgana picked up the elf by the scruff before she could start hurting herself.

‘Don’t you just hate when they do that?’ she asked Charis, rolling her eyes. Then she focused on the elf again. ‘Now, Winky, if we ask you questions, and you just nod or shake your head, then you have technically not said anything. Isn’t that right?’

To that suggestion, the elf brightened up and nodded.

And Charis had the first guess: ‘Third-year Hufflepuff. What’s his name? Malcom McMorris?’

Morgana rolled her eyes. ‘She said baaaaad wizard, Charis! And Malcom is hardly a wizard at all. And do you really think a Hufflepuff would have chosen green and silver? Now, Winky, hair colour. Is this wizard blond?’

Winky nodded.

‘How disappointing,’ Morgana groaned. ‘I prefer the dark type. Preferably dark and broody. Well, well, is this wizard a student?’

Winky shook her head.

‘A brother of a student?’

Again, Winky shook her head.

‘The father of a student?’

Winky nodded, her eyes wide and her ears flopping.

‘Is this student a Slytherin?’

Winky nodded so fast that her head seemed at risk of falling off.

‘Fucking hell!’ Charis exclaimed as she realised what the description added up to. ‘Lucius Malfoy? Why is Lucius Malfoy sending you chocolates? This is insane!’

Charis knew Morgana had spent time at Malfoy Manor over the summer, but she had assumed that it was a thinly-veiled act of kindness to a poor orphan as an act of charity, which Malfoy dutifully undertook in order to maintain his reputation as an upstanding pillar of the community. But sending Morgana posh chocolates was obviously a gesture that had more than just sympathy behind it.

Her exclamation was interrupted by Winky banging her head against the bedpost. ‘Bad Winky, bad!’

Once more, Morgana pulled the elf towards herself. ‘It’s alright, sweetie. Remember, technically, you haven’t said anything.’

‘May Winky leave now, Miss?’

‘Only if you promise me not to hurt yourself. Because I will know, and then I’ll hide your Butterbeer,’ Morgana threatened.

‘Yes, Miss.’ Then the elf Disapparated with a loud crack.

Charis swirled around to face her friend. ‘Why is Lucius Malfoy sending you chocolates, Morgana?’

Morgana shrugged. ‘As a token of affection?’

‘What are you talking about?’ Charis snapped. ‘He’s evil, Morgana. Evil!’ She was livid. So her suspicions were correct: Malfoy had his eyes on Morgana. And the worst thing was that Morgana did not seem to mind this new development at all.

Charis didn’t get chance to explore this horrid thought any further, however, as the door slammed open with a loud bang. She jumped, sending the empty Butterbeer bottles rolling to the floor. Thankfully, Morgana kept her cool and charmed them away with a flick of her wand.

A dark figure appeared in the doorway, robes billowing behind him, a sour expression on his face. And the girls did not even get a chance to say hello before he chided them. ‘It smells like a brewery in here. Care to explain?’

‘Winky was here, sir,’ Morgana said quickly. ‘The whole castle knows she has a drinking problem.’

‘Nice try, Ms Belakane,’ Snape snarled. ‘As it happens, several Ravenclaws are already in detention for smuggling Butterbeer into the common room. I suspect that Professor Umbridge is making them polish her pack of porcelain Persian plates as we speak.’

He fixed his dark eyes on Charis, and naturally, she blushed and looked down. ‘Care to defend yourself, Ms Byrne?’

Morgana opened her mouth, but her attempt to defend her friend was shushed by her Head of House.

‘Well, Ms Byrne?’

‘I … um … er …’

‘Eloquently put, Ms Byrne,’ Snape said, his voice dripping with irony. ‘At least, when your friend here lies, she does it with style.’

Again, Morgana opened her mouth, and again, she was shushed.

‘Ms Byrne, get up and look at me,’ Snape bellowed. ‘NOW!’

Charis did as she was told and gasped as she looked into the Professor’s beetle-black eyes.

‘I can explain, sir,’ she started.

A third time, Morgana opened her mouth, and this time, Snape had had enough. ‘No, Ms Belakane. If I wanted to hear any word from you, I would have asked you. Seeing that I have not, I recommend that you keep your mouth shut!’

‘We had a party in Ravenclaw Tower,’ Charis mumbled. ‘I had a couple of beers. And I knew Morgana was here alone, so I brought her one.’

‘At the danger of repeating myself: for a Ravenclaw, you are rather stupid, Ms Byrne,’ Snape snapped. ‘Ms Belakane does not even drink.’

‘I … I tried to make her drink, sir,’ Charis stammered. ‘It’s my fault.’

Morgana banged the back of her head against the headboard. Charis was talking herself right into his trap. ‘You’re fucking stupid, Charis,’ she mumbled under her breath.

‘Language, Ms Belakane’ Snape chided her and smirked. ‘But I agree. Now, Ms Byrne, how many points did I award you for your potion this morning?’

Charis grimaced. ‘Ten, sir.’

‘And can you guess what I will do with those points now, Ms Byrne?’

‘Deduct them,’ she piped. ‘And some more. And put me in detention.’

Again, Snape smirked. ‘My, my, the girl has imagination.’

Then he turned toward Morgana. ‘How many points should I deduct, Ms Belakane? In your opinion?’

‘Fifteen points, sir,’ Morgana replied, grinning. ‘And award five because she guessed right.’

To that, Snape snorted. ‘You are unbelievable, Ms Belakane. Now, Ms Byrne, you are going to serve detention. With me. Right now.’

And without another word, he stalked off towards the exit. At the door he stopped and turned around once more.

‘By the way, Ms Belakane, you are invited to lunch at Malfoy Manor tomorrow. We will be Flooing from my office at eleven thirty sharp. Try not to be late.’

‘We, sir?’

‘Yes, Ms Belakane. We. Your company has been requested.’

‘Any dress code, sir?’

‘Come as you are. And how about you, Ms Byrne? Do you need a written invitation?’

And Charis scurried to follow him, trying to shake off the thoughts of her friend spending tomorrow with Malfoy and his dishonourable intentions and focus on the impending trouble looming with the surly Potions master.

* * *

Charis had to jog to keep up with Snape as he swept down the stairs that led to the dungeon. Not an easy task. Firstly, because she had had one Butterbeer too many to be able to jog properly. And secondly, because the sight of Severus Snape’s billowing robes made the breath hitch in her throat.

As a tiny hiccuping sound escaped her lips, Snape fell dead in his track and turned to glare at her. ‘For your information, Ms Byrne, every hiccup will result in five points being deducted from your House. Do I make myself clear?’

Charis bit her lip and nodded. There was no point arguing, and any sound from her would surely result in Snape flying off the handle.

‘In,’ he bellowed as they reached the dungeon. He ushered her inside and slammed the door shut behind her. ‘Just how much did you have to drink, Ms Byrne?’

‘Four Butterbeers, sir.’

His smirk turned into an evil grin. ‘Can’t hold you liquor, can you, Ms Byrne? Tell me, what more does alcohol do to you?’

Charis gulped, not knowing if it was a trick question or not. So she decided to play it safe and use her logic. ‘Alcohol makes one less inhibited, sir. It makes people unafraid to do things they might ordinarily not do. Whilst alcohol is technically a depressant, for many people it enhances their mood and makes them sociable and flirtatious.’

If she had thought that Snape would be impressed by a textbook answer, she had been sorely mistaken. And the sound of his cold voice made her flinch.

‘I did not ask about a medical explanation, Ms Byrne. I asked what more alcohol does to you.’

He watched the girl closely. He knew she could not lie to him. And he watched her squirm, enjoying her discomfort.

Sure enough, Charis blushed. ‘It makes me giggly, sir. And, um, amorous …’

‘I see.’ Snape saw his chance to push the girl further and took it. Just how far would she go with his prompting, he wondered.

He stepped forwards, closing the gap between them. He was standing so close to her now that Charis could feel his breath tickle her forehead. She could have sworn that it smelled of chocolate. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry, her throat tight. And there were goose bumps erupting all the way down her spine.

Snape leant in, just an inch or two, but it was enough for Charis to gasp at the sudden proximity. And when he whispered into her ear, his breath felt like the touch of a feather.

‘Are you aroused, Ms Byrne?’

Charis’ breath caught in her chest. This couldn’t be happening, surely. Morgana had been the one who had been overtly trying to get Snape’s attention. Charis had been convinced that he’d never noticed her at all. And yet here he was, outright flirting with her.

‘Yes, sir,’ she breathed eventually.

‘If it were entirely up to you, Ms Byrne,’ Snape continued in a low tone, ‘what would you want me to do right now?’

Charis blinked as his words seemed to fill her mind like a gentle caress. And before she could stop herself, the words came right out of her mouth. ‘I would want you to force me back on the desk and kiss me, pin my hands against the side of my head whilst you grind yourself against me …’

She clasped her hands over her mouth. She couldn’t believe she had just said that. How the hell had he managed to make her reveal one of her most intimate dreams?

But to her surprise, Professor Snape was not angry. On the contrary. For the tiniest of moments, Charis could have sworn that she had seen a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

Oh, Snape was amused alright. The girl has imagination indeed, he thought. And this little power game was far too much fun to stop now.

‘And then, Ms Byrne?’ he went on in his deep, rich baritone. ‘What would you want me to do then?’

‘And then I would want you to nibble at my neck whilst assaulting my breasts with your long fingers before working them inside my knickers …’

Again, Charis broke off, blinking furiously. Why was she saying these things? Why did she not shut up?

‘Go on.’ Snape’s voice was soft as velvet, persuading, urging. And Charis did go on. She just could not stop.

‘And then I would want you to rip my knickers from me and enter me swiftly, right here on your desk, stretching me so I’d yelp with pleasure. And I’d be so tight around you as you drove into me, mercilessly, pinning me down with your strong arms and the intensity of your black eyes.’

She felt his long fingers cup her chin, and as she looked up, she saw them: those beetle-black eyes. They were boring into her, into her very soul. And she could not look away.

‘Will I make you come, Ms Byrne?’ he whispered. ‘Will I make you scream my name?’

His lips were so close to hers that she could feel his breath. But as much as she longed for them she did not dare move. She could not even trust her voice to reply. Instead, she just gazed into the black abyss of his eyes, her pupils dilated with fear and desire.

But Snape did not need a verbal answer. He saw what he was doing to the girl and how powerless he was making her.

‘On the desk, Ms Byrne.’ His voice was soft, almost tender, but this had definitely been an order. And Charis complied.

Snape’s long, slender fingers started pulling up her skirt, over her knees and over her thighs. Then he let them trace downwards over her inside of her thighs. And only too willingly, Charis spread her legs as his hands applied pressure to the inside of her knees.

Yes, he thought. Let’s see how far she will go.

‘Show me, Ms Byrne,’ he whispered. ‘Show me how you want to be touched. Show me how you want me to make you come. Let me hear you scream my name.’

Charis acted without thinking. It felt as if she were enchanted, spellbound by his velvety voice and his beetle-black eyes.

Whether she had taken off her knickers with magic or whether Snape had, she did not know. But when she reached her hand between her legs, she found herself exposed, hot and wet. She parted the soft folds of skin, her fingers brushed over her most sensitive spot, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

‘Severus …’

A triumphant smile played around Snape’s lips. From the use of his name, he could tell the girl had imagined this particular scenario many, many times before.

He shifted slightly to watch her fingers deftly working at her core, working herself up into a frenzy, just for him. Just because he asked her to. The rush of power he felt right now was equal to the erection that was now straining through his trousers.

‘Tell me what you want me to do, Ms Byrne.’

His voice was hypnotic, and Charis couldn’t do anything else but give him an answer. ‘I want to feel you inside me. I want to feel how you fill me up and stretch me …’

Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she started to stroke herself more feverishly, imagining the feeling of Snape’s cock inside her, just like she had done so many nights before.

‘Does it feel good, Ms Byrne?’

Charis had no idea if his voice was entering her ears, or if his thoughts were echoing in her mind. But she answered him, her voice hoarse, her breathing heavy.

‘Oh god yes, it feels so good. The way you pound me, the way you fill me …’

‘How good does it feel, Ms Byrne? Tell me. Let me hear you.’

‘I’d be crying. I’d be moaning with pleasure as you took me, relentlessly.’

And she did moan. And her fingers were rubbing against her sensitive nub, vehemently, fiercely. She heard the blood rush in her ears, felt her body starting to tremble.

‘Yes,’ Snape hissed. ‘Come for me. Scream for me!’

The thick material of Snape’s robes scraped against Charis’ bare thigh, and she felt his erection straining through them. And the thought of him being hard for her pushed her right over the edge.

‘Yes!’ she screamed as she came undone right there on his desk. ‘Oh, yes, Severus. Yes. Yes!!’

Her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave. Then she lay still for some moments, her eyes closed and her legs dangling limply from the edge of the desk.

Then she felt his breath tickle her ear, and a shiver went down her spine. ‘Did you enjoy your little fantasy, Ms Byrne?’

Her eyes snapped open, and she found Snape looking straight at her, his black eyes cold as ice.

‘This is what you want me to do to you, Ms Byrne?’

Charis just nodded, her hands trembling. Something was wrong, she could sense it clearly.

When Snape stood up straight, the look in his eyes went from cold to cruel. ‘Unfortunately for you, Ms Byrne, you are not the one to decide in my dungeon.’

He grabbed her by the shoulder, forcefully made her stand in front of his desk.

‘I have no further use for you, Ms Byrne,’ he snarled. ‘You are dismissed.’

Charis’ mouth fell open. She wanted to say something, but there was not a single sound coming from her throat, which felt raw with shock.

Still Snape was looking at her with those cruel black eyes. ‘What did you expect, Ms Byrne? That sharing your little fantasy with me would make me hump you like a hormone-ridden teenager?’

Charis blushed. Stupid as it seemed now, this was exactly what she had been hoping for. And she felt confused. Wasn’t that what he wanted, too?

Snape’s lips curled into a cruel smile. ‘You are too needy, Ms Byrne,’ he sneered. ‘No challenge.’

Charis swallowed and cast down her eyes. She felt so humiliated, so used. But she would not cry in front of him. She was not going to give him the satisfaction.

‘Twenty points to Ravenclaw, Ms Byrne,’ Snape announced. ‘For your eagerness to please.’

His words were dipped in acid and struck Charis like a Bludger to the gut. She still kept her eyes on her shoes, but she heard him stride towards the door, heard him open it.

‘You are dismissed, Ms Byrne.’

Charis didn’t look at Snape once as she passed by him but hurriedly slipped through the door and left the dungeon. And only when she heard him slam the door, did she allow the tears to start streaming down her face.