Beauty and Sadness

Sorry for the long delay...

If anyone from the UK would like to vet this for language, I would be most appreciative!

This story is Book 1 of the Tales of Severus Snape.
Book 2: “A Very Good Occlumens”.
Book 3: “Tension in the Laboratory”.
Book 4: “Hermione”.

*

Snape adjusted his dress robes nervously outside Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady eyed him and whispered to her friend Violet, both of them giggling and tugging at their already severely taxed bodices. Snape spared an icy look at them and went back to watching for signs of Lily. Where was she? What could take a woman so long getting dressed?

At last Lily tumbled out, and Snape stared. The portraits oohed and aahed. Lily’s beautiful hair was somehow more wild and tamed all at once, conveying the idea of its flaming waves looking best spread on a pillow. Her robes were golden and deeply damasked, with a red stone at her throat. She laughed uneasily at Snape’s frank appreciation, and her hands flew up to the deeply scooped neckline.

“You think this will be all right?”

Snape swallowed. All right? It was a fucking bomb. His cock twitched. “Yes,” he managed.

Lily smiled uncertainly. “So how are we getting there?”

“Portkey.” He produced a rusty, empty baked bean tin. “But we’ll have to leave the grounds.”

He took her arm, and they started off for the entry. Lily put her hand on his sleeve, directly over part of his fresh Dark Mark. Snape showed no sign whatever that the light pressure had sent a jolt a searing pain tearing through his nerves. He smiled at her, took her hand, and moved it to the crook of his arm. Lily’s face suddenly changed subtly, taking on a faint glow.

They slung their cloaks around themselves, hers a matching gold, his black, and slid out through Hogwarts’ great double doors. Once on the grounds, they glided down the sloping lawns and out the gates. It was dark and sharply cold. When they reached a point several feet from the grounds, Snape pulled Lily behind some trees and produced the Portkey. Holding hands, they grasped the old tin and waited, trembling in the cold.

Snape had an uncomfortable feeling that this dinner had not been a good idea after all. When he had told Lucius Malfoy whom he was bringing as his guest, Lucius’ first remark was, “The Mudblood? Don’t you have better taste?”

Snape had glared. “She’s my Mudblood, Lucius. Kindly remember that.”

Malfoy had thrown him a calculating look. “Well, if it’s just that, then,” he had said placatingly, “bring her round at 7.” As Snape had begun to depart, Malfoy had added, “Pretty thing, isn’t she?” Snape hadn’t deigned to reply.

Now this conversation flooded back to Snape as he stood holding the rusty tin. He checked his pocket watch. Seven on the dot. The crunching tug came suddenly, then the feeling of being unbearably pressed, and then—

Snape adjusted his cloak. The wind was whipping through the Wiltshire plains. They were standing just outside the wrought iron gate to Malfoy Manor. Before the gate could even ask their business, a house elf scurried up, bowed obsequiously, and opened the gate. They stepped through, their feet crunching on the graveled path. Lily gripped Snape’s arm and pointed at something white moving on the grounds.

“What’s that?” she whispered.

“Peacock,” he whispered back. The bird let out its eerie, doomed cry, and Snape felt Lily shudder.

Soon they were at the manor house itself. The door opened of its own accord, and another house elf bowed them in and took their cloaks. Still another led them to the dining room, where Lucius Malfoy leaned negligently against a door jamb, his hands in his pockets, his pale features alight with keen insincerity. Narcissa Black lolled in an armchair nearby, her elegant legs over one side. She was smoking, and somehow the combination of her pink, glossy lips against the cigarette looked practiced and obscene. A fire guttered in the grate.

“Evans,” Malfoy greeted Lily. “You’re looking better than usual. Such a pleasure to have you here at Malfoy Mansion.” The words, spoken softly, ricocheted off the custom wallpaper and gold-leaf painted ceiling. “Isn’t it, Cissa?”

Narcissa languidly put her head around the side of the wingchair and said neutrally, “Hello, Severus.” She tilted her head in Lily’s direction, but looked past her at a painting of smirking cupids. “Lily.”

Snape could almost smell Lily’s outrage. He shot her a look of warning, and saw her eyebrows travel up her forehead. Here it comes, he thought, bracing for the worst. But Lily only said mildly, “Cheers.”

Lucius smiled a smile that was more of a sneer. He opened a small chest on a table at his side. “Firewhiskey?”

Lily hesitated, then shook her head. “Thanks anyway. I’ll have water, or pumpkin juice, if you have it.” Snape swelled with pride. It was because of the baby that she had done that. He was almost sure. Lucius treated her to a small, condescending smile and inclined his head at Snape.

“Thank you, yes,” he said. Lucius poured something amber into three tiny goblets and passed one to Narcissa and one to Snape. Into a fourth he decanted water and handed it to Lily.

“A toast,” he drawled, raising his goblet. “To new friends.” He narrowed his eyes slightly at Lily. Snape had a sudden vision of Lily stretched out naked on the dining room table. The vision came unbidden. He shook his head, and it seemed to leave his mind as quickly as it had entered.

“To new friends,” they all murmured. Lucius drank his drink in one swallow, Narcissa seemed just to touch her goblet to her lips, and Snape took a careful sip. It was firewhiskey, but very fine and aged. He took another sip, letting it roll on his tongue. Lily merely had a long drink of water. She shivered again, goosebumps along her arm.

“Go closer to the fire,” Snape said in her ear. Lily surprised him by doing as he told her without fuss, seating herself on a second armchair not far from Narcissa’s swinging foot, from which dangled a shoe that probably had cost more than Snape’s entire outfit. He felt himself tensing.

Lily arranged her dress, the fire lighting its damask folds with sparkles and covering her with a golden glow, except her eyes, which seemed hard and shiny, more goblin-like green than Snape had ever seen them before, and somehow ten times more beautiful.

“The fire flatters you, Evans,” Lucius said.

“Lucius,” Narcissa said warningly.

A strange look telepathed between them, and Snape had another sudden, vivid image, this time of himself behind Lily, his cock thrust up her while she braced herself over one of the Malfoy’s padded dining room chairs. And in front of her stood Lucius Malfoy, his trousers open, his pink cock crammed in Lily’s mouth. Snape shook his head. What was going on?

“Fire flatters everyone,” Lily said briskly. “Could you stoke the flames a little more, Lucius? It’s freezing in here.”

He flicked his wand at the fire and making it spring to crackling life. The room seemed to get warmer at once.

“You should have done that sooner, Lucius,” Narcissa said in bored tones, “then maybe it would be a bit more comfortable in here.” She stretched one leg until it nudged Lily’s arm rudely, then exhaled a plume of periwinkle smoke in Lily’s direction.

Two house elves entered the room bearing trays of canapés. Snape breathed a sigh of relief and took one of the proffered savories, something in a puff pastry. He scarcely tasted it. Lily, he noted, took one also, but after one bite, ate no more of it. His heart began to beat heavily.

“You must be starving, eating nothing but Hogwarts fare,” Lucius said. “I suppose if you were a bit more interested in the larger world, you’d be on the outside, doing real work and eating food like this.” He smirked at Lily and took a healthy bite of what appeared to be smoked salmon on a toast corner. Narcissa took note and jogged Lily’s arm again with her foot.

Lily stood. Snape braced himself again. Here it comes. But Lily surprised him again, saying only, “We’re all interested in the larger world.”

Thankfully, at that moment, the house elves started laying out dinner. Snape wondered if they noticed the tension in the room.

Elves were streaming from the kitchen, bearing trays of all kinds of delicious and beautifully presented food: roast game, savory stews, herbed vegetables, a first and second course of wines (Lily left these untouched), tureens of soups, sauces, and special chutneys… Snape could only stare. He had never seen so much food in so much variety in his life. He took a swallow of the first course wine, a red. It tasted better than any wine he had ever drunk before. Lucius also drank the wine and began serving himself, hissing orders at the quivering elves around him. Narcissa stubbed her cigarette out in a crystal ashtray, and began serving herself from the nearest platters without passing them on. Lily did nothing. She seemed, to Snape’s eyes, to be watching them almost the way a scientist watches his rats, with avid but uninvolved interest.

He nudged her elbow. “Stew?”

Lily seemed to come to herself. Snape noticed the way the long ringlets of her hair curved around the swells of her breasts. She nodded. Her eyes looked strange, bright and glittering. Another image came to him all at once: Lily lowering her gown right at table, releasing her upturned breasts, taking one in each hand and teasing him with them, offering them to him, holding the nipples between her fingers—He shook his head. The image shimmered, then dissolved. And then he knew what was going on. Malfoy and his Dark Magic..!

“Lucius!” he barked.

Malfoy gave him an icy, lazy smirk. “Yes?”

Snape seethed. “Was that necessary?”

“I thought it might be fun, old boy. You can’t blame a fellow for trying.”

“You think I’d—" Snape was so angry that spit was starting to fly as he spoke. He jumped to his feet and Lily did, too. “This is dinner,” he hissed, “not an orgy. And I don’t share.”

“Oh, that’s not what—"

Snape cut him off, terrified that Lily might hear more. He had shared, at the Dark Lord’s command, but Lily was different. “Do you want to duel?” He thrust his face, his eyes glinting, into Lucius’. “Do you?” he repeated quietly into the silence.

Lucius’ expression didn’t change, but there was no mistaking the capitulation of his tone. “That won’t be necessary, old boy—"

“My name!” Snape raised his wand. “None of this rich-toff bloody rubbish!”

“Severus,” Lucius said carefully, his eyes on Snape’s wand. “That won’t be necessary. Perhaps I’ve forgot my manners. Do sit down.”

Narcissa raised her own wand, but Lucius held up his hand. Lily, Snape saw from a corner of his eye, had her wand at the ready, but was disguising it behind a fold of her gown.

“I think a bit more of an apology is in order,” Snape hissed. “And not to me.”

Lucius turned slowly. His eye whipped down Lily’s body quickly, as if he couldn’t control the impulse, but he raised his cold, silvery gaze to her face and said clearly, “Please accept my apologies, Lily, and join us for dinner.” He held out his hand.

Lily cast a quick glance Snape’s way, and he nodded. She took Lucius’ hand and said woodenly, “Thank you. That would be lovely.”

They all sat back down and began pretending that nothing had happened. But it took a long time for Snape to forget that his friend had tried to use Dark Magic to seduce Lily and himself into a Dark Arts orgy.

*

The Portkey took them back to just outside Hogwarts’ gates. The sky was cloudy; no stars twinkled above, and the air was biting cold, with the promise in it of worse to come. Lily clung to Snape’s arm again, and he was still so furious he was ignoring the pain. He had one long arm draped around her shoulders, holding her close.

“How did you know?” she whispered.

Snape pulled her even closer. “He wanted me to know,” he said reluctantly. “He was sending images my way, trying to make the idea attractive to me. Damn him.” The last words were delivered with no particular emphasis, but Lily shivered again.

“What will you do?”

Snape looked down at her incredulously. “Nothing. We’ve eaten at his house, accepted his apologies and his hospitality. Nothing. He’s just not resigned to marrying Narcissa.”

“Why do it then?” Lily asked.

“Why—" Snape repeated absently, stroking his fingers over her cloak. “Because they’re much alike. They get on well. And the Dark Lord approves. And because she’s, well up till now, she’s been understanding. I mean, of things like this. Lily?”

“Mm?”

“Let’s not go back right away.”

“Where will we go?” she said in surprise.

“Spinners End,” he said promptly. “We can Apparate. Then Apparate back for classes tomorrow.”

Lily looked at him. Even in this uncertain light, her eyes shone emerald green, with thick lashes. “Isn’t your mother there?”

“No,” he ground out. “She’s gone back to her people up North. She hasn’t been able to sell the place. Can’t imagine why,” he added bitterly.

“Where—" she hesitated, “where’s your father?”

Snape’s lips tightened. “Who cares?” She just looked at him. “He left,” he said reluctantly. “Just before term. You know, big row. Started hitting my mother again, saying all those things he likes to say about her and about me…”

“I know.”

“Yeah, well, this time … he had me to deal with.”

Lily looked anxious. “What did you do? You didn’t use magic on him?”

“No, I—-well, I was ready to. I pulled him off her. He didn’t expect that. Forgets I’m taller than him now. Stronger. So I raised my wand. That got his attention. Told him, well,” Snape’s eyes slid to hers uneasily. Exactly what he had said to his father he didn’t want to repeat. “Let him know he wasn’t welcome any more, and just what I’d do if he returned. I don’t know where he’s gone. The sod.”

Lily made a small noise, and in the next instant, her mouth was pressed to his, her fists balling up the front of his robes. Snape couldn’t hold back then. His mouth and hands were everywhere. He hooked his thumbs in the scoop of her neckline and pulled. Lily’s breasts nearly tumbled out. Panting, she backed away from him, her hands over her nearly exposed breasts. Snape could see the green of her eyes glittering in the moonlight. “Not here.”

“Come with me to Spinners End, then.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Lily shivered. “No. I hate that place, and so do you. The Come and Go Room.”

“It’s in use.”

Lily blinked. “In use?”

“The Death Eaters use it. For planning,” he said shortly. “Anyway, I can’t come to your rooms. There’s the charm—no boys in the girls’—"

“You’re a man.” She sounded breathless. “And everyone’s asleep.”

He thought a moment, then took her hand. “You take me.” He thought about running into Potter in the morning and truly didn’t care at all. “But I’ll have to leave early.”

They glided up the lawns, through the great double doors, along passages and up staircases. Casting heavy muffliato and other silencing charms, they scrambled through the Griffindor portrait hole. Snape hesitated a moment at the winding staircase, but Lily pulled him, and they tiptoed up to the turret room that Lily shared with two other post-graduates. Steady, deep breathing came from the far corners of the room—the dorm mates were sleeping.

Lily pulled back the curtains on her four-poster and pulled Snape inside. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his cloak. Then before Lily could do much more than remove her own shoes, he hooked his thumbs back in her neckline and jerked it down as far as it would go. Lily’s full breasts popped out. Were they fuller now? Snape couldn’t tell. He heard her gasp half of surprise, half of outrage to find herself so suddenly exposed. Then he took her breasts in his hands, pushing them together so he could roll the nipples with his fingers and bite them with his teeth. He could hear her sibilant breaths with every touch. Shrugging off her slight pushes on his shoulders, he bore her backward onto the bed, kneeing her thighs apart and settling himself between them. He pulled one of her legs over his hip and skimmed his fingers over her sex, feeling the silkiness of her knickers. Then he slipped one long finger inside. He closed his eyes. She was wet, slick, covered with her own juices. He probed for her center.

Lily’s own fingers were busy with his robes, making a noise of frustration as she fumbled with his fly. He pushed her hands away and quickly unzipped and unbuttoned. His cock sprang free, and he shoved it against her knickers, directly over her opening. Lily gasped and clutched at his arms. He adjusted his angle and pressed more carefully this time. Lily’s head arched back. “More,” she said. “Our clothes…”

“I don’t care,” he rasped back. He jerked at her knickers. Impatience overcame him. “Evanesco!”

“Ack!” Lily’s knickers abruptly went to the great beyond, and Snape’s unimpeded penis pressed into her soft folds, forcing them open. He reached under her and pulled her heavily engorged labia open, allowing the head of his cock to slide just within her. To his pleasure, Lily opened her thighs as wide as possible, her knees coming up high and her arms wrapped around the small of his back. Eyes closed, she wriggled, moving his tool inside her. Snape needed no more encouragement. He hooked his elbow under one of her knees and slowly but inexorably pushed his cock in to the hilt, all the while holding the lips of her quim open. Lily’s eyes few open helplessly.

“I—Sev—" She was squirming, moving his cock inside her, trying to find relief. He made a tiny movement, letting his shaft force open her swollen passage and slide along her most sensitive inner places. She let out a strangled noise, and he felt the tell-tale throb of her sheath around his shaft.

Snape felt as though his heart had been pierced and honey were flowing out of it. Using his hurt forearm to support himself, he held her open with the fingers of his other hand. A small smile played on his lips. He waited until her inner pulsing slowed, then began moving inside her again. Writhing, Lily kneaded his buttocks, making small mewing noises. He hung onto his control with difficulty.

For a long time, he hung over her, slowing whenever he feared he might come or halting completely whenever he felt Lily climax again. At last he couldn’t hold back anymore. Driving himself in deeply, he let himself spurt inside her, gasping quietly each time.

He rolled his weight off her onto his good side, already near sleep.

“Take off your shirt,” Lily yawned.

Snape gathered her close, his mind clicking away. “Got a chill,” he said. Lily pulled the blankets close around them, and Snape knew no more.

*

His eyes opened in the darkness hours later. Everyone was still asleep. Carefully, he disentangled himself from Lily. He allowed himself the luxury of touching her hair once before he crept out of the bed curtains, swung on his cloak, shoved his feet in his shoes, and left for the dungeons.

Back in his own dormitory, he lay on the bed for a time before falling into a deep sleep. He didn’t notice the flurry of worrisome activity that morning until someone shook him rudely awake.

“Get up, Snape!”

His eyes snapped open, glinting furiously at Yaxley.

“Get up! You’re wanted in the hospital wing!”