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 57 ~ Epilogue #3

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling exhausted. She had tossed and turned the whole night, dreaming very erotic dreams about one Lucius Malfoy Sr. The wizard had captured more than her imagination yesterday. He was handsome, sexy, and dark, though not as brooding as the Potions Master was. She was sure he knew what she wanted. Lucius had been pretty nasty in her second year, setting Ginny up to release the memory of Tom Riddle and releasing the basilisk on Hogwarts. But hell, he had been a deatheater. His behavior really wasn’t that shocking. She remembered him as a bigot too, though he had no problem fucking muggles at the Dark Revels she was sure. It seemed he had moved past his bigotry, at least concerning her. She was a Primordial after all. She imagined that he wanted to be her consort because fucking the most powerful witch in the world would add to his image. Malfoy was all about image. She didn’t have a problem with that, as long as he delivered. The quick kiss he had given her had shot through her and pooled directly between her thighs. She was definitely very strongly attracted to him, and actually had been tempted to take him up on his offer to “sample” his wares. But she didn’t want to seem too ready, though gods knew she was.

Hermione had also taken a quick peek at his “male attributes” and he appeared to be quite adequate for her needs. She would take final applications today, then close up shop. Lucius Malfoy was the prime candidate for her consort. She thought the wizard could and would meet her needs. She believed Lucius was a bit older than the Professor, but appeared to be in excellent shape. Wizards didn’t physically age as quickly as muggles, and Malfoy was still in his prime.

Hermione smirked. Draco would have conniptions if she chose his father. He still was a snooty, bigoted and spoiled snit, having never gone through what his father and mother did while serving Lord Voldemort. The idea of Draco frothing at the mouth was almost enough to make her fuck his father out of spite. But spite would have nothing to do with it.

Hermione ate a quick breakfast, peeking out the window as she did so. The wizards were lining up outside, and she could see Gretel handing out the self-evaluating forms. Hermione doubted there would be anyone in the crowd that would appeal to her as much as Lucius, but one never knew.

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Severus woke up bright and early the next morning, filled with anticipation. He took a quick shower, and dressed. He didn’t wear robes very much anymore, and today put on a form fitting black t-shirt, black silk boxers, black Dockers, black socks and black loafers. He pulled his long, black hair back into a ponytail, and wrapped it with a black leather tie. He put his platinum necklace and his lucky kango cap. A pair of sunglasses topped him off. Hermione wouldn’t recognize him until he told her his name or he removed his glasses and she could see his eyes. If he applied at all, that is. He was still up in the air about it.

He ate a light breakfast, then retrieved the single’s magazine and with his finger, tapped the link. He was immediately transported to an immense iron gate. Beyond it he could see a rather nice three-story house on a hill. The tabloid hadn’t lied. She did live in a house on a hill. He touched the gate and it opened automatically. It was probably charmed to allow applicants to enter. He walked through and headed for Hermione’s dwelling.

As he drew closer, he saw a line of wizards, all busily scratching at a piece of parchment in their hands. A few were disappearing suddenly, the line moving up as their spaces were filled by the next in line. He reached the end of the line, trying to decide whether or not to join it, when a house elf suddenly appeared and shoved a parchment and a cheap quill into his hands, before winking out again. He looked at it.

Pre-evaluation Form

He smirked. Hermione was still a smart pastie. She was thinning the wizards out before they even got to her, narrowing down her choices to those most preferable. He looked over the form. There were some word association questions, and very personal questions about their sexual preferences, favorite positions, length and width of the penis, and physical condition. Color of eyes, hair, weight and height as well. There were a two questions, one of which was “Why do you want to be a consort?” and the other was more of an essay-type question “Describe how you arouse a woman.”

Whoa. Hermione was taking no prisoners, was she? He peered over the shoulder of the wizard in front of him. He was rather short. In the height section, he wrote: “six feet”. He disappeared immediately. Ooh. No lies on this form. Snape wondered if he could get past it. Wizards were disappearing at an alarming rate. He decided to go ahead and fill it out. He looked at the first word on the word association list. Roses.

He wrote “Blast” next to it.

The next word was Love. He thought a moment. “Unnecessary” was the word he associated with it. He paused, waiting to be sent back home. When nothing happened, he continued. The next word was Sex. He wrote “Primordial” next to that one, and waited again. No, he was still in the running. He filled out the rest of the word association questions successfully.

Next, he filled out his physical description. For favorite position he wrote, “Any position that makes a woman scream until she’s hoarse.” For the “why do you want to be a consort?” he answered “Because I want to fuck the shit out of a Primordial on call.” And on the “describe how you arouse a woman” part he wrote, “I let her know I intend to fuck her, grab her, strip her and pin her down. You know the rest.”

Well, he was still in line, and quite close to the door now. Over three quarters of the wizards who were in line had been transported away. The self-evaluation form grew warm in his hands, then a stamp appeared on it. It read “Suitable”. Snape chuckled and shook his head. Hermione was still a masochist. The other wizards were probably not so direct, and it cost them. They had probably thought Hermione was the flowers and roses type, even though she specified she wanted a wizard of a dark nature. The minute they got mushy, they were out.

He was at the door now. He looked down to see a house elf holding out his hand for the form. Snape recognized the elf. It was Hansel. He didn’t acknowledge him, however. Hansel handed him a ticket and gestured toward the rows of seats. Snape walked over and sat in the second row. There weren’t many wizards waiting. He looked at his ticket. He was number twenty-six. There was a little charmed chalkboard that refreshed itself with a new number as Hermione completed her interview. It read number nineteen. He made himself comfortable and watched as Hansel closed the door and carried in the few forms he had collected. Outside, wizards grumbled. Apparently Hermione was going to take a little break after completing the next few interviews.

Snape was contemplating how to approach the Primordial once she recognized him. He thought it would be best to be aggressive. That had always made her wet. Plus answering those questions the way he did and seeing his answers were accepted made him want to fuck the twisted little witch again even more. She still wanted what he offered. He looked up at the board. Number twenty-three already. He looked around. There were two more wizards after him. One had a crazed look about him. His blue eyes were dilated, his mouth twisted in a kind of leering smirk. She wanted dark, not crazy. He gave the wizard ten seconds in her presence.

“Number twenty-six!” Hansel called out. Snape stood up and walked over to the elf.

“Follow me, sir,” Hansel said, walking up the hall and stopping in front of an open door on the left.

Snape entered. There she was, a hood pulled over her head, shifting through the papers on her desk. She looked up at him quickly before returning to the parchments, locating his form.

“Please have a seat,” she said in a business-like manner. Snape sat down and looked at her as she read over his form, her mouth dropping open. She looked up at him.

“You’re certainly direct, Mr…” she said, her eyes slightly narrowed. The forms did not have a place for names. Introductions were made during the interview.

Snape removed his glasses, his black eyes glinting, his mouth turning up in a smirk.

“Snape,” he replied silkily, “Mr. Severus Snape.”

Hermione gasped.

“Professor?” she said, lowering her hood, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Snape nodded. “In the flesh. But it’s not Professor any more. I no longer teach dunderheads for a living. You can call me Severus now, Hermione,” he said smoothly.

Hermione looked down at his application and up at him again.

“Y-you’re applying to be my consort?” she asked a bit stupidly. She was thrown for a real loop. He looked so different. But those eyes, they were still the same. Dark and drawing her in.

“Obviously, Hermione, or I wouldn’t be here,” he replied a little snarkily. It was the Professor all right.

She stared at him. Gods, it had been so long. But the way her stomach was twisting, it was obvious his particular type of magic still affected her. But after three years without a word, to just walk in here…

Hermione forced herself to calm down. Snape’s black eyes swept over her. She was as lovely as ever, and she still was attracted to him. This ought to be easy.

Hermione took a deep breath, and forced herself back into her business persona.

“All right, Severus,” she said, feeling awkward at saying his given name after all this time. :I see what you have written down here as to why you would like to be my consort, but I would like to hear more,” she said. “Convince me you can handle this.”

What she really wanted to know was what had changed that he would be willing to have a relationship with her.

“To be honest, it was the terms that attracted me, Hermione. You state you want an occasional consort. That implies that you are not looking for an actual relationship, simply a wizard that could meet your very special needs when they arise. That suits me. There seem to be no complications involved. I imagine that your consort would be free to have other partners?”

“Yes, he would as long as he was careful not to catch any wizarding STD’s,” she replied.

“Then you know I’m your wizard, Hermione,” he said, his eyes starting to go hot. “I’ve already proven I can satisfy you. More than satisfy you. In fact…” Snape leaned closer and dropped his voice. “Why don’t I close the door, ward the room and give you a quick refresher? I know it’s probably been a long time since you’ve come the way I can make you come. Would you like that?”

Hermione looked at him, her belly starting to heat up. He was seducing her. Her eyes must have betrayed her, because Snape started to rise.

“No!” she said suddenly, louder than she intended. The Potions Master sat back down.

“Ah, no Severus, I don’t think so,” she said, fighting the growing ache she was feeling. He still made her feel hot all over.

“I can see it in your eyes, Hermione. Why do you always tease yourself?” he asked her softly.

“I’m not teasing myself. I have another consort in mind, is all. I will have to decide between you,” she said.

“What?” Severus said, scowling. “You know what I can do for you. Who could possibly compete with that…whom would you consider over me?” Snape asked angrily. What the hell was this game she was playing? He felt like yanking her over the desk and reminding her why she was attracted to him in a very brutal way.

“Lucius Malfoy. He applied yesterday. He was quite…appealing,” Hermione replied.

Shit. Lucius. Yes, he was definitely competition. The blonde wizard could probably satisfy the Primordial. Snape was familiar with the pureblood’s sexual nature. He loved to pummel women as much as Snape did. Damn.

“But you have no way of knowing he can satisfy you the way I can,” Snape said.

“That’s true. But he kissed me, and I wanted more. I think that’s a pretty good sign,” Hermione replied. “Plus he’s as dark as you are. He was a deatheater too. He said he knows what I need, and that he could give it to me as good as you could. That you both are two sides of the same galleon. I believe him.”

Snape felt a tightening in his belly that he shouldn’t have. He hadn’t seen the witch in years. Why should he care if she chose to fuck Lucius Malfoy? Because he didn’t like to lose, that’s why.

“He’s married,” Snape said shortly.

“His wife doesn’t mind. He said they are both in my debt for freeing them from Voldemort. As a deatheater’s wife she is probably used to him fucking other women anyway. I wouldn’t take up all his time at any rate. I would only see him when I needed him,” Hermione replied, looking at the dark wizard in front of her a bit strangely. He seemed upset she was considering the pureblood. But still, the Professor would make the perfect consort as well. She felt a bit torn.

“I tell you what. I’ll put you in the “Possible Consort” file and contact you later in the month, along with Lucius and any other wizard I am considering. I will bring you all together, give you a chance to convince me and make my final decision,” she said to the Potions Master, slipping his parchment into the referred to file.

Snape was speechless. She really was going to make him compete for her. Damn it. Why had he thought this would be easy? The witch was infuriating. He thought he saw a bit of amusement in her amber eyes and his temper flared. He stood up and practically ran around her desk, yanking her from the chair and pulling her hard against his body. She could have melted from the contact. He was as lean and hard as she remembered. And he was aroused. He wanted her. His black eyes blazed down at her as he pressed into her, feeling her shuddering slightly.

“Fine, Hermione. I will participate in your little game of choice,” he snarled, “But you WILL choose me, and when you do, I am going to fuck you so hard for putting me through this, you’re going to need all your Primordial powers to recover from the beating!”

He pushed her roughly back into her chair, snapped his sunglasses back on his face and stalked from the room. If he had been wearing robes, they would have billowed wildly as he departed.

Hermione was gasping, her entire body tingling. She had forgotten how violent he could get, and how much it turned her on. Trying to calm herself, she called Hansel.

“Yes, Miss?” Hansel said, appearing at the door.

“Send the rest of the wizards away. I’ve found my two finalists,” she said.

“Yes, Miss,” Hansel said, bowing. He walked back into the waiting room.

Hermione heard angry voices and groans of protest over Hansel’s squeaky voice. It sounded as if it were going to get nasty. Hermione concentrated. The waiting room went silent.

Hansel walked back to the office door.

“Thank you, Miss. They were getting ugly,” Hansel said.

“No problem, Hansel,” she replied distractedly.

“So, you believe you’ve found a consort, Miss?” the elf inquired. It would be good for her to have a wizard in her bed when she needed him. She was a good witch and a good boss. He would like to see her happy.

“Well, I have two wizards I am considering, Hansel. Both are quite appealing, and I have to choose between them. I don’t really have an idea how to do that,” she said, looking down at the elf.

“You’ll figure out something, Miss. You are the smartest witch of the age after all, “ the elf encouraged.

“And the randiest,” Hermione thought as she thought of Lucius and Severus. Gods…what a choice she had to make. Both were dark and absolutely delicious. Severus seemed the more dangerous of the two, but Lucius had his element of danger as well, just better controlled.

Shit. She needed a cold shower.

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A/N: man. Snape lost it didn’t he? Doesn’t like being in competition for her a bit, but is willing to compete if he has to. Doesn’t give a damn that’s she’s a Primordial and could make him disappear permanently either. Snape is something else. Whew. Please review.