Bound in Leather
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
31
Views:
12,085
Reviews:
200
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
31
Views:
12,085
Reviews:
200
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.
Chapter Four: The Consequences of One's Actions
dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness this union between the world of harry potter and my ever churning imagination. any one who thinks they can show just cause as to why i shouldn\'t be doing this can take a flying leap and go on to something else. i am having for too much fun with this, and will not heed your warnings, suggestions..... whatever. as j.k. rowling owns everything harry potter, i am not doing this for anything other than the joy i get from writing it. that\'s right... no money, no fame, no.....nothing
as is usual, i will enact the standing raunch warnings. be prepared, in case smut happens. or something not so nice. i want you all warned before hand, so you can enter the chapter fully armed. you know what they say..... now you know, and knowing is half the battle...
and, please let me know what you think. i do so love the reviews. i even take suggestions and helpful comments. no flames, though. i will use them to roast your ass with. then the dragon gets jealous, and i don\'t have the heart to say no to him. he\'s so bloody cute when he begs and pouts....
Chapter Four: The Consequences of One\'s Actions
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus stared moodily out the window of the airplane as it winged he and his band toward their next venue. Someplace he\'d never heard of. Of course, when he\'d been an active member of the Wizarding world, he\'d never heard of half the places he\'s been to on the tour. Oh, he knew about the major towns in the United States, but he hadn\'t realized there\'d be so bloody much of the infernal country.
He sighed, ignoring the raucous laughter coming from the rest of his band mates behind him. They saw every occasion as a chance for a party. Not that he minded so much, but he did wish they could hold the noise down to a dull roar while they were in such an enclosed space. Another round of loud laughter had him looking over his shoulder to see what was going on with them.
Turlough had managed to coax one of the stewardesses into his lap. She was red in the face, telling him the other four men had done a terribly good job of making her embarrassed. One of the man\'s hands covered a breast, massaging it while he whispered in her ear. Or perhaps nuzzled her neck. At any rate, he was certain Turlough would be adding another mark to his \'mile high\' column. He turned back to the window, allowing his black gaze to stare absently at the ground far below them.
His mind turned back to earlier that morning, when Al had slipped from his arms and his bed. She\'d been completely disheveled from his sexual appetites. Her cheeks had still had a faint flush to them, telling him she had been either completely ravished or slightly embarrassed. She\'d popped off with a few lines he\'d heard from groupies before, the bit about always remembering the night. But it had been the tone of her voice that had made him stop and think that she was perhaps not being facetious.
There had been an underlying sincerity that he\'d never heard from any of the others. She meant it. The night she had spent with him had been important to her. He couldn\'t figure out why she\'d sounded so.... sad when she\'d said it. He\'d been struck with the thought that she hadn\'t had many dreams to look forward to if a night in bed with him was to be that memorable to her. It was as if she didn\'t expect to find any joy in her life.
He barely held back the snort at that thought. Here he was, Severus Snape, still one of the biggest bastards you would ever want to meet, contemplating the hopes and dreams of a woman he\'d likely never see again. His brain had to be addled from the hours of loud music and excessive drinking. He shouldn\'t care one way or another if he\'d managed to make the dreams of some pitiful young woman come true. More than likely, he was the flavor of the month with her. Next time, it would be someone else she would be lusting after.
Good for him. He didn\'t need to think on the chit any longer. There would be more groupies in the next town. And the town after that. And even still after that. He would find some woman to wash the memory of her from his brain and skin. He turned and motioned over the other stewardess, who was eyeing him as if he were a custard on the dessert tray. She looked at him eagerly, and he smiled as he thought of crushing that particular hope. \'What can I get you, sir?\' she asked, the tone of her voice telling him she meant anything.
\'A bottle of rum, please. And if it\'s those little trial-sized ones, bring me three or four. And then you can let me alone for the remainder of the flight. Should I need anything, I\'ll be sure to give a yell,\' he told her, his tone glacial to let her know he was not interested in that at all. Her face fell, but she plastered a facsimile of a smile on her face and nodded. She wandered off to get his requested drink.
It was going to be a long flight. Every where he went, they were there. Fucking sheep!
~*~*~*~*~
Al pulled her car up before the square, two story home and sighed heavily. She glanced at the windows, curtains drawn against the risen sun. She would be in such trouble. Not that she regretted the night. She just hadn\'t thought she\'d be gone this long. Her step-father Kevin would not let her absence of the previous night go. He\'d make sure she knew just what she\'d done wrong. It didn\'t matter to him that she was an adult, nearly twenty one. All that mattered was his ability to control her life.
If not for her mother, she would have been gone along time ago. She didn\'t see the need to remain at home. But her mother was sick, confined to her bed, and she couldn\'t just leave her. So she stayed and put up with Kevin and his moods. His odd behavior. His temper. It was enough to make her want to turn the engine on her old Ford over and just drive. She didn\'t. She heaved a sigh and stepped out of her battered Escort, remembering to pull the dress over her head she\'d had on when she left the house the night before. If he saw what she\'d been wearing..... She shuddered to think what would happen.
With a slowness that was cultivated to an artform after years of practise, she eased the back door open and closed as she stepped into the kitchen of the house. The air was still and silent, giving her the insane hope that Kevin was in the basement, occupied with one of his girlie magazines. That hope was dashed as she set her foot on the first step that lead up to the second floor and the safety of her bedroom. \'Where the hell have you been all night?\' the voice grated over her nerves.
She stopped and turned, finding him standing in the entrance to the hallway that lead to the room he shared with her mother. He wore no expression on his face, but she knew better than to gauge his mood by that. It was always wrong. She did better to listen to the tone of his voice and the way he spoke his words. If he bit them off, he was well and truly pissed off. His hands hung at his sides in a relaxed position.
\'Um, I went out with some friends after the concert to an all night place. I lost track of the time until the sun was coming up,\' she replied steadily, hoping her anxiety wasn\'t evident in her voice.
\'You know the house rules, Alas,\' he sighed. She cringed inwardly at his name for her. The first time he\'d called her that, she hadn\'t realized it was his shortened version of her name. Now, she\'d grown to hate hearing it. It always meant nothing but trouble for her. \'You have a curfew, and I expect you to abide by it.\'
\'But I\'m twenty one years old!\' she bit out in exasperation. She knew it didn\'t make a bit of difference with him, but she had to say it.
\'Be that as it may, you still live in my house. Under my roof, As such, you will abide by my rules. You know that. If you don\'t like it, you can always move,\' he stated, knowing what her response to that would be. What it always was.
\'You know I can\'t leave Momma when she\'s so sick,\' she said in a near whisper.
\'Of course you can\'t. So, you will just have to follow my rules, won\'t you?\' Kevin\'s mousy brown eye brows went up on the last of his sentence. she sighed and nodded her head. She turned to go up to her room when he stopped her with his voice once more. \'Did I give you permission to leave yet?\'
\'No, sir. You didn\'t,\' she stopped again, but did not turn to face him.
\'Get over here. Now!\' he hissed silently. She sighed, squared her shoulders, and did what he\'d ordered. When she stood in front of him, she glared her defiance at him. She wasn\'t afraid of him. Not for herself, at any rate. She was afraid for her mother, though. Which was why she did as he commanded. He looked at her face for a few short seconds, then she felt his fist connect with her side. It was a hard blow, but she controlled the urge to cry out with an iron will.
His hand slid over her cheek in a back-handed slap that had her head jerking on her neck. She stumbled back at this, but remained standing. She would never again make the mistake of falling over if she could help it. The last time that had happened, he\'d broken several of her ribs. She could taste the metallic flavor of blood. She could only hope he hadn\'t split her lips. She still had work this evening. \'You can go now,\' he told her, gesturing to the stairs behind her.
She stepped back warily, then turned around to face the stairs. He delivered one more blow, a fist to her back that sent her stumbling toward the steps. She kept her balance, moving slowly as the pain pulsed up her spine. She could feel his eyes on her as she went. She hoped fervently that he wouldn\'t follow her up the stairs. She wanted nothing more than the solitude of her room.
~*~*~*~*~
Brenda Jensen looked up as the door to the small diner swung open. She watched Alasdair slowly make her way into the front of the building with a faint scowl marring her features. The girl had worked there for three years now, starting out as kitchen help and working her way up to the illustrious position of waitress, and Brenda felt as if she were a mother to the child. And she had seen Alasdair move like this before. She went to the back and waited. There was no reason for the entire staff and every one of their patrons to hear what she had to say.
It took a few minutes before the girl shuffled into the back room, dropping her heavy bag with a sigh. She lowered herself into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and closed her eyes. \'What happened this time, Allie?\' she asked, refusing to call the girl by her preferred moniker of Al. It was no name for a pretty girl. Just as Alasdair wasn\'t.
\'I didn\'t get home until after dawn this morning,\' she replied in a dull tone, not even bothering to hide the truth. Brenda had known about the abuse for some time now, and she kept hoping against hope that Allie would get away from it.
\'You broke curfew? How mad was he?\'
\'He only hit me a couple times. He must not have been too mad. I tried to loosen up in a bath, but I couldn\'t relax very long. He kept hovering by the bathroom door. I\'m afraid I won\'t get much by way of tips tonight,\' she opened her eyes to give Brenda a rueful smile.
\'You shouldn\'t even be here tonight, duck. You should be at home, resting. Or at the police station, pressing charges. You can\'t let him keep doing this to you, honey. He\'s going to kill you one of these days.\' Brenda insisted for what felt like the millionth time that month alone. She saw the look in Alasdair\'s eyes, the one that stated she was going to be stubborn and claim she couldn\'t leave, couldn\'t take care of her mother on her salary if he were gone. She lifted her hand. \' I don\'t want to hear the excuses. I am only concerned about you, child.\'
\' I know. I\'ll be alright. Honestly,\' Al said, giving her a very small smile.
\'What had you out past curfew anyway?,\' Brenda\'s tone went motherly, her hands going to sit on her ample hips. She watched the smile spread over Alasdair\'s face. It was one of pure joy, and it made her look much prettier than she was.
\' I went to a concert last night,\' she admitted.
\'Oh yes.... That band you\'re always going on about. Was the concert that good?\' Brenda rolled her eyes at the youthful exhuberance the girl was showing.
\'The concert was fantastic, but that\'s not what put the smile on my face,\' Al admitted. Brenda watched the blush rise on her cheeks and knew what was coming next. \' It was what went on after that has me smiling like this.\'
\'Allie, tell me you didn\'t.....\' she began. The girl merely nodded at her. \'Girl, are you out of your mind? Do you know what kind of diseases those people carry?\'
\' It\'s alright. We used protection,\' Al lied. She didn\'t want to hear the lecture she\'d get for being irresponsible. And she would get one. She knew Brenda looked upon her as a daughter, and she wasn\'t up to the ass chewing the woman would likely be giving her.
\'Oh, well then. That\'s alright. So... tell me,\' Brenda grinned and waggled her eyebrows. \'Who was the lucky bastard?\'
\'The singer,\' Al said in a tone of voice that made it clear that she thought the aswer should be obvious to one and all.
\'That long haired freak? Why not one of the other band members? They look like nice young men among the world of rock and roll. Why the one who looks completely evil and uncaring?\'
\'Cos he\'s hot on stage and in bed,\' Al gave a laugh at the shocked expression on Brenda\'s face. The older woman\'s look went curious and Al grinned. \'Very hot!\' She laughed again when Brenda began fanning herself. By the blush on the older woman\'s face, she could tell that the other waitress was picturing just how hot she meant.
\'Alright, girl. I won\'t ask any more. I do not need details. I need a cold shower. Go get ready for work, and I\'ll try to make sure you don\'t get overworked. Sheila decided she wasn\'t going to show up again. I don\'t know why Dan keeps her on,\' Brenda shook her head. Al nodded, picking up her bag and heading for the staff bathroom in the back. Once the girl was out of sight, she let out her pent up frustration by kicking a box across the floor.
Alasdair Wyndham was older than she needed to be. Kevin Marks had made sure of that. The young girl should have gone on to college. As it was, she\'d barely finished high school. And then she\'d ended up here. She should have been given the opportunity to become something that was worthy of the girl\'s ability and intelligence. But circumstances had stepped in and kicked the girl. As had Marks. The man would kill her, if she let him. She needed to get out of that house. Brenda didn\'t feel up to attending the child\'s funeral. It would be too much like loosing her own son all over again....
~*~*~*~*~
Severus stabbed at the button, making the television run through the gamut of it\'s channels. He could find nothing to occupy his brain for very long. It was times like this when he wished he had one of the books from Hogwart\'s library to read. One from the restricted section, naturally. But that was not an option for him anymore. Of course, he had his personal library at his estate in England. He could always port key home to get one. But his mind was in a state that would not allow him to concentrate on anything for an overly long period of time.
He\'d shocked his band mates by returning to the hotel alone. They\'d never seen him go a night without some woman to appease his appetites. He\'d claimed a headache and sleeplessness the night before as his excuse. He knew not a one of them had believed him. They\'d asked if he would be attending the party that night. He\'d told them no. They\'d asked him if he were ill. That had gotten a very small smile from him. Then he\'d wished them good night.
He\'d returned to his room after the show, taking a long shower in the luxurious bathroom. He\'d soaped the sweat from his hair and body, his mind turning back to the events of the night before. He hadn\'t been able to get the girl out of his head all day long. Here it was almost twenty four hours later, and he could still recall her name. Al. Short for Alasdair.
His brain chimed in. ~Of course you remember her name! It\'s a man\'s name, through and through. You laughed at it hard enough last night.~ Of course, that was it. He could recall her name because it had been just that odd. Certainly the girl herself hadn\'t made that much of an impression on him. None of his long list of conquests had made any kind of impression on him. He merely recalled her name because it was so bizarre.
He sighed and considered port keying to his home and picking up a few books. After a few moments, he shook his head. It would be far too problematic to have to explain to a bunch of Muggles what the principals of Potion brewing were. And why he was reading a book in a language most people never saw. Most people would look at his books and call him \"witch.\'\' As if he cared what they thought of him. No, it was better to leave the books where they were and avoid losing his temper when a bunch of ignorant Muggles started speaking without using their miniscule brains to reason anything out.
With a punch of his finger, he turned off the blasted television and decided to let his mind wander. Unfortunately, it wandered to the vision of a petite woman with honey brown hair and a terribly talented mouth. He groaned in frustration when his cock joyously joined in on the remembrances and hardened instantly. Damn! It seemed that the girl\'s memory was holding on with the temerity that some of his students had when in his Potions class.
He recalled clearly that fateful day that had changed his life. He\'d had a particularly horrid day, one of his first years making him think rather unhappily about Neville Longbottom\'s time in his classes. The two were very similar in their abilities to melt a cauldron without any planning on their behalves. If he hadn\'t known that Longbottom was an only child, he\'d have sworn that this student was a sibling. He\'d been about to launch into the properties of Dragon\'s Blood when he\'d noted one table had been completely preoccupied with something on the work surface before them.
He\'d stalked over with his usual intensity to stand behind the two students. They were reading a book in his class. And it wasn\'t their Potions textbook, either. He\'d reached over them to take possession of the book they were absorbed by, then gone on to tear into the two of them. He\'d taken points, assigned detentions, then made an example of the two by making them stand before the class and properly recite the properties of several things they hadn\'t even seen yet.
They\'d failed miserably at the task. Which had lead to him assigning more detentions and taking more points in an almost orgasmic manner. When he\'d had a moment alone, he\'d opened the book and read the first paragraph out of idle curiosity. It was a Muggle book by a woman named Anne Rice. The book was called *The Queen of the Damned* and was about a vampire who stepped out into the world and became a rock star. He\'d found himself hooked from the very first.
Severus had gone to Muggle London to find the rest of the books, getting himself immersed in the story. He had read every spare moment he could find, until he\'d come to the end of the third book and found himself thinking he could relate to this character the woman had written so well in some small way. The next thing he\'d known, he was imagining himself a rock star. At the end of the school year, he\'d given Dumbledore his resignation and had set off for Muggle London. He\'d never looked back.
And so he found himself here. He was on top of the music industry, pissing off people left and right as was his wont. He could have any woman he wanted. Often times, he did. He could be as crude and as vile as he wanted. He was a god in the eyes of some of the masses. And some slip of a girl he\'d shagged had bothered to hang about his mind and play with it. Something none of the others had done. With a muffled curse, he stood and began stalking. He was interrrupted mid-stride by a knock on the door.
He stormed over to open it, finding himself staring at Deek. The man leaned in and not so casually checked out his room. When he saw no body sprawled over the bed, his eyes came back to stare at Severus. \'No girl tonight?\' the blonde drummer grinned at him cheekily.
\'No,\' Severus shook his head. He took up his usual stance, crossing his arms over his chest. He kept his face blank, wondering what this talk was leading up to.
\'Having problems getting it up, mate?\' his mouth spread in a huge grin.
\'Not that it\'s any of your business, but no. I am not having problems getting it, or anything for that matter, up,\' Severus replied haughtily. Deek let out a loud bark of laughter, then stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Severus cocked a brow, wondering what the man thought he was about.
\'We were all worried when you declined to join the party. I know how much you love shagging the groupies. You complain about them often enough,\' Deek smiled, then went on. \'This sudden disinterest in women and sex wouldn\'t have anything to do with the bird you bagged last night, would it?\'
\'Why would you think that?\' he questioned, wondering the very same thing himself. His mind had strayed to her often enough over the past day. It had gotten to be bloody annoying. He wanted her gone so he could move on to the next conquest. And now he knew his band mates had noticed his lack of interest in the vacuous women who proudly called themselves groupies.
Oh, he\'d had every intention of picking one of the women from the line up and bringing her back to his room. He\'d intended to shag said groupie until his johnson was on the verge of falling off from use. But, when he\'d looked the gathered groupies over, he\'d found that there was a certain appeal missing for any of them on his part. It had been damned irritating when he\'d stopped to examine the problem. It had even had a name, this problem of his. The name was Alasdair.
Bloody hell, he remembered her name. He was in a world of trouble.
~*~*~*~*~
Al settled onto her twin-sized bed with an ice pack and a cold drink on the nightstand beside her. It had been a hard shift because of the stiffness and bruises. She had done her best, though. She\'d even managed to make more in tips than she had hoped for. She\'d stashed some of the money for a frivolous purchase at a later date. She was trying to relax her body so she could fall to sleep. It was not an easy task. Between the pain from the mild beating and the way her mind was replaying the last twenty four hours, she wasn\'t sure she\'d get any rest.
She kept going back to the time spent with Severus. She honestly hadn\'t known, when the guard had come and gotten her, that she\'d been picked as the flavor of the night. Oh, she had no illusions as to how much importance he placed on her as a person. She\'d been a body for him. And she could live with that. She was certain he was with some other girl at this very moment, where ever he was. And she could live with that, as well. But it was still a shock to her system that he had picked her. Plain little Al.
She could plainly recall the feel of his hands on her bared flesh. His skin, especially that on his finger tips, was rough and calloused. The abraiding it had done had been highly arousing. His mouth had been hot and hungry, seeking out the most sensitive areas on her body. It had felt as if he\'d set her skin on fire. Even now, just the memory of his practised caresses had her muscles clenching with need.
She rolled onto her stomach, her thighs squeezed together. His touch haunted her at the oddest of times. She could have sworn she\'d felt his hands on her buttocks at one point during work. She\'d been in the tub after work to soothe her aching muscles and had felt his lips fasten onto a nipple. One night with him, and she could recall his every breath and movement. It was not a good sign at all. It was as if she were truly obsessed.
She was asking for more trouble than she needed if she was obsessing over Severus Snape. She doubted she\'d ever see him again, and the last thing she wanted to do was pine for him. The man wouldn\'t give her a second thought.....
end chapter four.
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thanks go to madam shark, kenly, red, and simone for their perpetual support and help. i have groupies myself! can you believe that? i love them. i really do.
please leave me a tidbit and let me know what you think. it makes me want to write more for you.
to vi..... the twin cities can have just as exclusive hotels as any where else. do you live there?
to snapeaddict... yes, it is our beloved Master. i just can\'t seem to let him rest long. i\'m glad you\'re pleased with him as the rock god. i know i am. and trent reznor is the shit, isn\'t he?
to deblovesdragon... for the answers to all your questions, keep reading. and i\'m really surprised that not everyone latched onto the whole it\'s Severus thing right away. i tried to keep the identity obscure while still giving some clues. guess i did it, didn\'t i?
Sillymoom001....here ya go! enjoy.
as is usual, i will enact the standing raunch warnings. be prepared, in case smut happens. or something not so nice. i want you all warned before hand, so you can enter the chapter fully armed. you know what they say..... now you know, and knowing is half the battle...
and, please let me know what you think. i do so love the reviews. i even take suggestions and helpful comments. no flames, though. i will use them to roast your ass with. then the dragon gets jealous, and i don\'t have the heart to say no to him. he\'s so bloody cute when he begs and pouts....
Chapter Four: The Consequences of One\'s Actions
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Severus stared moodily out the window of the airplane as it winged he and his band toward their next venue. Someplace he\'d never heard of. Of course, when he\'d been an active member of the Wizarding world, he\'d never heard of half the places he\'s been to on the tour. Oh, he knew about the major towns in the United States, but he hadn\'t realized there\'d be so bloody much of the infernal country.
He sighed, ignoring the raucous laughter coming from the rest of his band mates behind him. They saw every occasion as a chance for a party. Not that he minded so much, but he did wish they could hold the noise down to a dull roar while they were in such an enclosed space. Another round of loud laughter had him looking over his shoulder to see what was going on with them.
Turlough had managed to coax one of the stewardesses into his lap. She was red in the face, telling him the other four men had done a terribly good job of making her embarrassed. One of the man\'s hands covered a breast, massaging it while he whispered in her ear. Or perhaps nuzzled her neck. At any rate, he was certain Turlough would be adding another mark to his \'mile high\' column. He turned back to the window, allowing his black gaze to stare absently at the ground far below them.
His mind turned back to earlier that morning, when Al had slipped from his arms and his bed. She\'d been completely disheveled from his sexual appetites. Her cheeks had still had a faint flush to them, telling him she had been either completely ravished or slightly embarrassed. She\'d popped off with a few lines he\'d heard from groupies before, the bit about always remembering the night. But it had been the tone of her voice that had made him stop and think that she was perhaps not being facetious.
There had been an underlying sincerity that he\'d never heard from any of the others. She meant it. The night she had spent with him had been important to her. He couldn\'t figure out why she\'d sounded so.... sad when she\'d said it. He\'d been struck with the thought that she hadn\'t had many dreams to look forward to if a night in bed with him was to be that memorable to her. It was as if she didn\'t expect to find any joy in her life.
He barely held back the snort at that thought. Here he was, Severus Snape, still one of the biggest bastards you would ever want to meet, contemplating the hopes and dreams of a woman he\'d likely never see again. His brain had to be addled from the hours of loud music and excessive drinking. He shouldn\'t care one way or another if he\'d managed to make the dreams of some pitiful young woman come true. More than likely, he was the flavor of the month with her. Next time, it would be someone else she would be lusting after.
Good for him. He didn\'t need to think on the chit any longer. There would be more groupies in the next town. And the town after that. And even still after that. He would find some woman to wash the memory of her from his brain and skin. He turned and motioned over the other stewardess, who was eyeing him as if he were a custard on the dessert tray. She looked at him eagerly, and he smiled as he thought of crushing that particular hope. \'What can I get you, sir?\' she asked, the tone of her voice telling him she meant anything.
\'A bottle of rum, please. And if it\'s those little trial-sized ones, bring me three or four. And then you can let me alone for the remainder of the flight. Should I need anything, I\'ll be sure to give a yell,\' he told her, his tone glacial to let her know he was not interested in that at all. Her face fell, but she plastered a facsimile of a smile on her face and nodded. She wandered off to get his requested drink.
It was going to be a long flight. Every where he went, they were there. Fucking sheep!
~*~*~*~*~
Al pulled her car up before the square, two story home and sighed heavily. She glanced at the windows, curtains drawn against the risen sun. She would be in such trouble. Not that she regretted the night. She just hadn\'t thought she\'d be gone this long. Her step-father Kevin would not let her absence of the previous night go. He\'d make sure she knew just what she\'d done wrong. It didn\'t matter to him that she was an adult, nearly twenty one. All that mattered was his ability to control her life.
If not for her mother, she would have been gone along time ago. She didn\'t see the need to remain at home. But her mother was sick, confined to her bed, and she couldn\'t just leave her. So she stayed and put up with Kevin and his moods. His odd behavior. His temper. It was enough to make her want to turn the engine on her old Ford over and just drive. She didn\'t. She heaved a sigh and stepped out of her battered Escort, remembering to pull the dress over her head she\'d had on when she left the house the night before. If he saw what she\'d been wearing..... She shuddered to think what would happen.
With a slowness that was cultivated to an artform after years of practise, she eased the back door open and closed as she stepped into the kitchen of the house. The air was still and silent, giving her the insane hope that Kevin was in the basement, occupied with one of his girlie magazines. That hope was dashed as she set her foot on the first step that lead up to the second floor and the safety of her bedroom. \'Where the hell have you been all night?\' the voice grated over her nerves.
She stopped and turned, finding him standing in the entrance to the hallway that lead to the room he shared with her mother. He wore no expression on his face, but she knew better than to gauge his mood by that. It was always wrong. She did better to listen to the tone of his voice and the way he spoke his words. If he bit them off, he was well and truly pissed off. His hands hung at his sides in a relaxed position.
\'Um, I went out with some friends after the concert to an all night place. I lost track of the time until the sun was coming up,\' she replied steadily, hoping her anxiety wasn\'t evident in her voice.
\'You know the house rules, Alas,\' he sighed. She cringed inwardly at his name for her. The first time he\'d called her that, she hadn\'t realized it was his shortened version of her name. Now, she\'d grown to hate hearing it. It always meant nothing but trouble for her. \'You have a curfew, and I expect you to abide by it.\'
\'But I\'m twenty one years old!\' she bit out in exasperation. She knew it didn\'t make a bit of difference with him, but she had to say it.
\'Be that as it may, you still live in my house. Under my roof, As such, you will abide by my rules. You know that. If you don\'t like it, you can always move,\' he stated, knowing what her response to that would be. What it always was.
\'You know I can\'t leave Momma when she\'s so sick,\' she said in a near whisper.
\'Of course you can\'t. So, you will just have to follow my rules, won\'t you?\' Kevin\'s mousy brown eye brows went up on the last of his sentence. she sighed and nodded her head. She turned to go up to her room when he stopped her with his voice once more. \'Did I give you permission to leave yet?\'
\'No, sir. You didn\'t,\' she stopped again, but did not turn to face him.
\'Get over here. Now!\' he hissed silently. She sighed, squared her shoulders, and did what he\'d ordered. When she stood in front of him, she glared her defiance at him. She wasn\'t afraid of him. Not for herself, at any rate. She was afraid for her mother, though. Which was why she did as he commanded. He looked at her face for a few short seconds, then she felt his fist connect with her side. It was a hard blow, but she controlled the urge to cry out with an iron will.
His hand slid over her cheek in a back-handed slap that had her head jerking on her neck. She stumbled back at this, but remained standing. She would never again make the mistake of falling over if she could help it. The last time that had happened, he\'d broken several of her ribs. She could taste the metallic flavor of blood. She could only hope he hadn\'t split her lips. She still had work this evening. \'You can go now,\' he told her, gesturing to the stairs behind her.
She stepped back warily, then turned around to face the stairs. He delivered one more blow, a fist to her back that sent her stumbling toward the steps. She kept her balance, moving slowly as the pain pulsed up her spine. She could feel his eyes on her as she went. She hoped fervently that he wouldn\'t follow her up the stairs. She wanted nothing more than the solitude of her room.
~*~*~*~*~
Brenda Jensen looked up as the door to the small diner swung open. She watched Alasdair slowly make her way into the front of the building with a faint scowl marring her features. The girl had worked there for three years now, starting out as kitchen help and working her way up to the illustrious position of waitress, and Brenda felt as if she were a mother to the child. And she had seen Alasdair move like this before. She went to the back and waited. There was no reason for the entire staff and every one of their patrons to hear what she had to say.
It took a few minutes before the girl shuffled into the back room, dropping her heavy bag with a sigh. She lowered herself into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and closed her eyes. \'What happened this time, Allie?\' she asked, refusing to call the girl by her preferred moniker of Al. It was no name for a pretty girl. Just as Alasdair wasn\'t.
\'I didn\'t get home until after dawn this morning,\' she replied in a dull tone, not even bothering to hide the truth. Brenda had known about the abuse for some time now, and she kept hoping against hope that Allie would get away from it.
\'You broke curfew? How mad was he?\'
\'He only hit me a couple times. He must not have been too mad. I tried to loosen up in a bath, but I couldn\'t relax very long. He kept hovering by the bathroom door. I\'m afraid I won\'t get much by way of tips tonight,\' she opened her eyes to give Brenda a rueful smile.
\'You shouldn\'t even be here tonight, duck. You should be at home, resting. Or at the police station, pressing charges. You can\'t let him keep doing this to you, honey. He\'s going to kill you one of these days.\' Brenda insisted for what felt like the millionth time that month alone. She saw the look in Alasdair\'s eyes, the one that stated she was going to be stubborn and claim she couldn\'t leave, couldn\'t take care of her mother on her salary if he were gone. She lifted her hand. \' I don\'t want to hear the excuses. I am only concerned about you, child.\'
\' I know. I\'ll be alright. Honestly,\' Al said, giving her a very small smile.
\'What had you out past curfew anyway?,\' Brenda\'s tone went motherly, her hands going to sit on her ample hips. She watched the smile spread over Alasdair\'s face. It was one of pure joy, and it made her look much prettier than she was.
\' I went to a concert last night,\' she admitted.
\'Oh yes.... That band you\'re always going on about. Was the concert that good?\' Brenda rolled her eyes at the youthful exhuberance the girl was showing.
\'The concert was fantastic, but that\'s not what put the smile on my face,\' Al admitted. Brenda watched the blush rise on her cheeks and knew what was coming next. \' It was what went on after that has me smiling like this.\'
\'Allie, tell me you didn\'t.....\' she began. The girl merely nodded at her. \'Girl, are you out of your mind? Do you know what kind of diseases those people carry?\'
\' It\'s alright. We used protection,\' Al lied. She didn\'t want to hear the lecture she\'d get for being irresponsible. And she would get one. She knew Brenda looked upon her as a daughter, and she wasn\'t up to the ass chewing the woman would likely be giving her.
\'Oh, well then. That\'s alright. So... tell me,\' Brenda grinned and waggled her eyebrows. \'Who was the lucky bastard?\'
\'The singer,\' Al said in a tone of voice that made it clear that she thought the aswer should be obvious to one and all.
\'That long haired freak? Why not one of the other band members? They look like nice young men among the world of rock and roll. Why the one who looks completely evil and uncaring?\'
\'Cos he\'s hot on stage and in bed,\' Al gave a laugh at the shocked expression on Brenda\'s face. The older woman\'s look went curious and Al grinned. \'Very hot!\' She laughed again when Brenda began fanning herself. By the blush on the older woman\'s face, she could tell that the other waitress was picturing just how hot she meant.
\'Alright, girl. I won\'t ask any more. I do not need details. I need a cold shower. Go get ready for work, and I\'ll try to make sure you don\'t get overworked. Sheila decided she wasn\'t going to show up again. I don\'t know why Dan keeps her on,\' Brenda shook her head. Al nodded, picking up her bag and heading for the staff bathroom in the back. Once the girl was out of sight, she let out her pent up frustration by kicking a box across the floor.
Alasdair Wyndham was older than she needed to be. Kevin Marks had made sure of that. The young girl should have gone on to college. As it was, she\'d barely finished high school. And then she\'d ended up here. She should have been given the opportunity to become something that was worthy of the girl\'s ability and intelligence. But circumstances had stepped in and kicked the girl. As had Marks. The man would kill her, if she let him. She needed to get out of that house. Brenda didn\'t feel up to attending the child\'s funeral. It would be too much like loosing her own son all over again....
~*~*~*~*~
Severus stabbed at the button, making the television run through the gamut of it\'s channels. He could find nothing to occupy his brain for very long. It was times like this when he wished he had one of the books from Hogwart\'s library to read. One from the restricted section, naturally. But that was not an option for him anymore. Of course, he had his personal library at his estate in England. He could always port key home to get one. But his mind was in a state that would not allow him to concentrate on anything for an overly long period of time.
He\'d shocked his band mates by returning to the hotel alone. They\'d never seen him go a night without some woman to appease his appetites. He\'d claimed a headache and sleeplessness the night before as his excuse. He knew not a one of them had believed him. They\'d asked if he would be attending the party that night. He\'d told them no. They\'d asked him if he were ill. That had gotten a very small smile from him. Then he\'d wished them good night.
He\'d returned to his room after the show, taking a long shower in the luxurious bathroom. He\'d soaped the sweat from his hair and body, his mind turning back to the events of the night before. He hadn\'t been able to get the girl out of his head all day long. Here it was almost twenty four hours later, and he could still recall her name. Al. Short for Alasdair.
His brain chimed in. ~Of course you remember her name! It\'s a man\'s name, through and through. You laughed at it hard enough last night.~ Of course, that was it. He could recall her name because it had been just that odd. Certainly the girl herself hadn\'t made that much of an impression on him. None of his long list of conquests had made any kind of impression on him. He merely recalled her name because it was so bizarre.
He sighed and considered port keying to his home and picking up a few books. After a few moments, he shook his head. It would be far too problematic to have to explain to a bunch of Muggles what the principals of Potion brewing were. And why he was reading a book in a language most people never saw. Most people would look at his books and call him \"witch.\'\' As if he cared what they thought of him. No, it was better to leave the books where they were and avoid losing his temper when a bunch of ignorant Muggles started speaking without using their miniscule brains to reason anything out.
With a punch of his finger, he turned off the blasted television and decided to let his mind wander. Unfortunately, it wandered to the vision of a petite woman with honey brown hair and a terribly talented mouth. He groaned in frustration when his cock joyously joined in on the remembrances and hardened instantly. Damn! It seemed that the girl\'s memory was holding on with the temerity that some of his students had when in his Potions class.
He recalled clearly that fateful day that had changed his life. He\'d had a particularly horrid day, one of his first years making him think rather unhappily about Neville Longbottom\'s time in his classes. The two were very similar in their abilities to melt a cauldron without any planning on their behalves. If he hadn\'t known that Longbottom was an only child, he\'d have sworn that this student was a sibling. He\'d been about to launch into the properties of Dragon\'s Blood when he\'d noted one table had been completely preoccupied with something on the work surface before them.
He\'d stalked over with his usual intensity to stand behind the two students. They were reading a book in his class. And it wasn\'t their Potions textbook, either. He\'d reached over them to take possession of the book they were absorbed by, then gone on to tear into the two of them. He\'d taken points, assigned detentions, then made an example of the two by making them stand before the class and properly recite the properties of several things they hadn\'t even seen yet.
They\'d failed miserably at the task. Which had lead to him assigning more detentions and taking more points in an almost orgasmic manner. When he\'d had a moment alone, he\'d opened the book and read the first paragraph out of idle curiosity. It was a Muggle book by a woman named Anne Rice. The book was called *The Queen of the Damned* and was about a vampire who stepped out into the world and became a rock star. He\'d found himself hooked from the very first.
Severus had gone to Muggle London to find the rest of the books, getting himself immersed in the story. He had read every spare moment he could find, until he\'d come to the end of the third book and found himself thinking he could relate to this character the woman had written so well in some small way. The next thing he\'d known, he was imagining himself a rock star. At the end of the school year, he\'d given Dumbledore his resignation and had set off for Muggle London. He\'d never looked back.
And so he found himself here. He was on top of the music industry, pissing off people left and right as was his wont. He could have any woman he wanted. Often times, he did. He could be as crude and as vile as he wanted. He was a god in the eyes of some of the masses. And some slip of a girl he\'d shagged had bothered to hang about his mind and play with it. Something none of the others had done. With a muffled curse, he stood and began stalking. He was interrrupted mid-stride by a knock on the door.
He stormed over to open it, finding himself staring at Deek. The man leaned in and not so casually checked out his room. When he saw no body sprawled over the bed, his eyes came back to stare at Severus. \'No girl tonight?\' the blonde drummer grinned at him cheekily.
\'No,\' Severus shook his head. He took up his usual stance, crossing his arms over his chest. He kept his face blank, wondering what this talk was leading up to.
\'Having problems getting it up, mate?\' his mouth spread in a huge grin.
\'Not that it\'s any of your business, but no. I am not having problems getting it, or anything for that matter, up,\' Severus replied haughtily. Deek let out a loud bark of laughter, then stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Severus cocked a brow, wondering what the man thought he was about.
\'We were all worried when you declined to join the party. I know how much you love shagging the groupies. You complain about them often enough,\' Deek smiled, then went on. \'This sudden disinterest in women and sex wouldn\'t have anything to do with the bird you bagged last night, would it?\'
\'Why would you think that?\' he questioned, wondering the very same thing himself. His mind had strayed to her often enough over the past day. It had gotten to be bloody annoying. He wanted her gone so he could move on to the next conquest. And now he knew his band mates had noticed his lack of interest in the vacuous women who proudly called themselves groupies.
Oh, he\'d had every intention of picking one of the women from the line up and bringing her back to his room. He\'d intended to shag said groupie until his johnson was on the verge of falling off from use. But, when he\'d looked the gathered groupies over, he\'d found that there was a certain appeal missing for any of them on his part. It had been damned irritating when he\'d stopped to examine the problem. It had even had a name, this problem of his. The name was Alasdair.
Bloody hell, he remembered her name. He was in a world of trouble.
~*~*~*~*~
Al settled onto her twin-sized bed with an ice pack and a cold drink on the nightstand beside her. It had been a hard shift because of the stiffness and bruises. She had done her best, though. She\'d even managed to make more in tips than she had hoped for. She\'d stashed some of the money for a frivolous purchase at a later date. She was trying to relax her body so she could fall to sleep. It was not an easy task. Between the pain from the mild beating and the way her mind was replaying the last twenty four hours, she wasn\'t sure she\'d get any rest.
She kept going back to the time spent with Severus. She honestly hadn\'t known, when the guard had come and gotten her, that she\'d been picked as the flavor of the night. Oh, she had no illusions as to how much importance he placed on her as a person. She\'d been a body for him. And she could live with that. She was certain he was with some other girl at this very moment, where ever he was. And she could live with that, as well. But it was still a shock to her system that he had picked her. Plain little Al.
She could plainly recall the feel of his hands on her bared flesh. His skin, especially that on his finger tips, was rough and calloused. The abraiding it had done had been highly arousing. His mouth had been hot and hungry, seeking out the most sensitive areas on her body. It had felt as if he\'d set her skin on fire. Even now, just the memory of his practised caresses had her muscles clenching with need.
She rolled onto her stomach, her thighs squeezed together. His touch haunted her at the oddest of times. She could have sworn she\'d felt his hands on her buttocks at one point during work. She\'d been in the tub after work to soothe her aching muscles and had felt his lips fasten onto a nipple. One night with him, and she could recall his every breath and movement. It was not a good sign at all. It was as if she were truly obsessed.
She was asking for more trouble than she needed if she was obsessing over Severus Snape. She doubted she\'d ever see him again, and the last thing she wanted to do was pine for him. The man wouldn\'t give her a second thought.....
end chapter four.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
thanks go to madam shark, kenly, red, and simone for their perpetual support and help. i have groupies myself! can you believe that? i love them. i really do.
please leave me a tidbit and let me know what you think. it makes me want to write more for you.
to vi..... the twin cities can have just as exclusive hotels as any where else. do you live there?
to snapeaddict... yes, it is our beloved Master. i just can\'t seem to let him rest long. i\'m glad you\'re pleased with him as the rock god. i know i am. and trent reznor is the shit, isn\'t he?
to deblovesdragon... for the answers to all your questions, keep reading. and i\'m really surprised that not everyone latched onto the whole it\'s Severus thing right away. i tried to keep the identity obscure while still giving some clues. guess i did it, didn\'t i?
Sillymoom001....here ya go! enjoy.