Inside the Blackest Heart (Edit, Not Update)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 56 ~ Epilogue #2

Relaxing naked and slightly tanned in a lounge chair on the patio of his secluded beach house, Severus Snape sighed contentedly, looking out over the water, his dark eyes reflecting the setting sun. Life had been good for him since the death of the Dark Lord and imprisonment of Albus Dumbledore. He marketed several of his original potions, and was receiving excellent residuals. He was a man of means now, comfortable and as close to happy as he had ever been in his life. He stroked his goatee absently as he watched the gulls wheel in the deepening sky.

Since he was well off, women were no problem. When in the mood for a warm body, he frequented the nicer, more upscale clubs in the area. Women flocked to him, witch and muggle alike, drawn by his dark, brooding nature as well as his coin. Being the sensualist he was, he took them home, fucked them and sent them on their way again, usually broken-hearted. But he was always honest with a woman beforehand about what he expected and what to expect from him. A relationship was completely out of the question. If a woman wasn’t prepared to fuck him, then she shouldn’t waste his time or his money and this was the first thing she was told when she was seated. This approach was surprisingly effective for the Potions Master. Most of the women took this as a challenge and assumed that once he tasted their charms he would be hooked, but generally it worked the other way around, and after a few rather messy, tearful confrontations, he had taken to blindfolding women before bringing them to his abode, so they wouldn’t be able to find their way back when he was finished with them. He rarely fucked the same woman twice if he could help it but pickings were getting rather slim now.

A voracious reader, Snape subscribed to all manner of magazines and newspapers to keep up with what was going on in the world. He still received his potions literature, and on occasion would read about Hermione’s lectures. She was in the tabloids constantly. Her love life or lack of one was big news. He would laugh at some of the articles. Others made him thoughtful, such as the ones that caught her picking up wizards at clubs only to send them back in minutes, sometimes in various stages of undress.

In Playwizard magazine there was an interview with a man who claimed to have fucked the Primordial. He described her as cold, distant, and frigid in the sack, claiming her powers made her feel no man was worthy enough for her. Snape had snorted at this. She had accepted him, and he was one of the most unworthy wizards on earth. And the witch was as far from frigid as she could be. The wizard was obviously lying. Probably one she had rejected.

Another tabloid painted her as a broken-hearted, ruined young woman pining after a mysterious deatheater who took her virginity and her love, then dumped her. She had been so distraught that she built a house high on a hill and became a recluse, venturing out only to do the occasional lecture, before returning to her lonely existence, too broken to open up to another wizard. Snape highly doubted Hermione was pining away, even if she was alone. She was sure to be involved in something cerebral. He had read some of her papers on Primordial powers. They had been fascinating. And he hadn’t dumped her. They would have had to be in a relationship for him to dump her. They hadn’t been. He simply left to live his life, as she knew he would. At first, he was worried that she would come looking for him, but she didn’t. She had understood he meant what he had said when he told her how he felt about her. She respected his wishes and didn’t pursue him. It had been more than three years since he had laid eyes on the witch.

Idly, he waved his hands, igniting the torches that lined the patio. A stack of newly arrived magazines was piled on the table next to him. He picked up the stack and went through them. Hm. A single’s magazine. It was free. Junk mail. He was about to toss it aside when he noticed in bold letters “Primordial Seeks Consort ~ See Page thirty-one for Details” His eyebrows rose. What the hell was Hermione up to now?

He quickly leafed through the magazine to the proper page, read the ad and burst out laughing. She was actually advertising to find a wizard to fuck her. Gods. The witch was something else. He put the magazine aside and settled back on the lounge chair, staring up at the sky, watching the stars slowly wink in.

Taking out an ad in a single’s magazine. Madness. Normally she was such a levelheaded witch. Plus, she was lovely enough she didn’t need to advertise. Any wizard would be happy to oblige her. Snape thought about this then realized her status as a Primordial probably brought all kinds of predators to her door, and she probably grew tired of it and decided to just take the logical route of letting the wizards know what kind of man she was looking for, and selecting a consort that came as close to her needs as possible. Yes, that was the Hermione he knew. She would try to shift the odds in her favor as much as possible.

Snape picked up the magazine again and reread the ad. She had specified she wanted a wizard for an occasional consort. Obviously she was not looking for a constant companion or interested in romance. Dark-natured. Of course. She wanted a wizard that would dominate her in bed. He chuckled at “strong male attributes” requirement. That definitely meant a big cock. He wondered if she made the wizards show her their wares. His eyebrows rose when he read that the wizard should be prepared to “perform.” Was fucking her part of the interview process? He didn’t think so. He couldn’t imagine the Primordial fucking wizard after wizard in search of the perfect match. But then again, she may have changed since he had seen her last. Snape was getting more and more curious by the minute. The ad gave no address, just a link to tap. He presumed it transported the interested party to her home during the proper hours.

Maybe he’d pop in to the House on the Hill and see what it was all about. He had a lot of time on his hands, in fact he was a bit bored to be honest. Brewing potions, collecting residuals, lounging about, hitting the clubs and fucking gold diggers into conniptions for the past two and a half years had been fine, but maybe he needed something more. It couldn’t hurt to see what was going on with the witch. He closed the magazine and looked at the cover again.

Primordial Seeks Consort.

Hm.

Snape put the magazine down, swung his lean body out of the lounge chair and stretched. He put the torches out and entered the beach house.

“Blinky!” he called. A house elf appeared.

“Yes, Master?” the elf asked, bowing low. The creature didn’t tremble. He wasn’t afraid of Snape. Since the Potions Master was no longer under the thumb of despots, he was much mellower and didn’t abuse his servant beyond yelling at him from time to time. But in the past, Snape had killed several house elves in a fit of temper. Having his freedom had changed the dark wizard somewhat. But he was still brutal as hell with women.

“I’m ready for dinner,” he stated.

“Yes, sir,” Blinky said, bowing.

Blinky was a former servant of Voldemort, who had been left masterless after the Dark Lord’s demise. The elf was blind in one eye and walked with a limp due to mistreatment. He had wandered about looking for a new situation but no one wanted a damaged house elf. Snape had found him one night huddled in the corner of an alley and recognized him. He understood what it was like to be damaged and gruffly offered to be the creature’s Master if just to keep him from being an eyesore in the streets of Knockturn Alley. Blinky was delighted, and fiercely loyal to the dark wizard that took him off the streets.

Blinky served Snape sweet and sour chicken with vegetables and mango juice, then retired to his cubby as the Potions Master ate alone, deep in thought. The elf would return later to clear the table. Snape wondered if Hermione had narrowed down her search and had any wizards in mind for possible consorts. It was likely some would be former deatheaters, since she had a preference for dark, brutal wizards. How would she choose between them. She would probably have some kind of test. Pit them against each other in some way. Hm. Maybe they had to arouse her.

Snape smirked at that. Maybe he should do more than look around. Maybe he should apply for the position and shock her panties off, literally. He didn’t think she would require faithfulness in an occasional consort. When he had been fucking her, she had actually witnessed him with other women. She never showed any jealousy. He hoped that was still true otherwise he needn’t bother applying. He was always going to fuck women, at least until he was too old to get it up.

Knowing the witch, she wouldn’t accept him immediately, no matter how she felt She’d probably put him through the paces just like any other possible consort just to be vindictive. Then, when he won her, he could pay her back for her vindictiveness. He felt a little throb. The idea was becoming more and more appealing to him. He wouldn’t mind fucking her again. Climaxing with her was an intensely pleasurable experience when coupled with her powers. He hadn’t experienced anything near it since the last night he was with her.

Snape chewed a piece of pineapple thoughtfully. Yes, he’d check out the House on the Hill tomorrow. He’d look around, check out the competition and decide then whether or not he’d apply. It would be interesting in any case.

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A/N: Oh yeah. Had to put Snape back in the mix. Goatee? Tanned? Rich? Beach House? A closet nudist? Wow. Lol Please review