An Easy Job

A/N - For all those who have been following Terrible Temptation and EPU and complaining about the lack of lemons. This is for you. Thanks Kate.

Chapter 1 – The Customer

She stood in the shadows of the room and looked out the window. Cleaning charms had taken care of the residue from her last john and the House Elves had re-made the bed, changing the sheets for the next job.

For that’s what it was – a job. Sometimes fun, sometimes dull, sometimes more psychology than anything else, but an easy way to make a lot of money and she needed a lot of money. University degrees weren’t cheap and the Goblin banks expected prompt payment.

The room was tasteful and had all the necessary accoutrements of her trade. She liked the muted greens that were the dominant color. Madam Nell had exquisite taste. The bed of course dominated the room; it was, if you will, the raison d’etre for the entire chamber. It was a four-poster for ease of knot tying and had discrete loops for that express purpose. Made of a honey maple that seemed to softly glow from the diligent polishing of the House Elves, it had soft green sheets with a darker green bedspread.

She stepped away from the window and glanced at herself in the mirror. She charmed her hair to black this time, smooth and falling straight to her waist, and then she changed her eyes to a sultry smoky gray. She left her skin its usual peach and fixed her glamour more carefully in place. Dressed in little more than leather straps and very high-heeled boots, she went downstairs to find her next customer.

She used ‘The Walk’ when she entered the lounge. Perfected in front of the full-length mirror upstairs after weeks of work with Madam Nell, it exuded sex and confidence. She paused in the doorway, just as she had been instructed, letting the customers get an eyeful, hip jutted out to show off her luscious curves, her eyes sweeping the room with manufactured lust. Nell called it displaying the wares.

The room had peach satin wallpaper and Queen Anne furniture in rosewood with golden upholstery. It could have been any upper class woman’s sitting room, if it weren’t for the nervous and excited men sitting about and the half-naked women prowling among them, offering drinks or far more than that.

Her gaze faltered when it hit the far corner and she managed not to start noticeably when she saw him. He was as out of place here as a nun in a bar, even disguised in muggle slacks and black sweater. The shoulder-length black hair was bound back, but the nose would forever be unmistakable. It begged two questions: one, what was Severus Snape doing in the “Heaven’s Portal” brothel and two, what was she going to do about it?

A demon of curiosity motivated her to approach him. Curiosity had always been her downfall; she could never resist the lure of the unknown. He looked up at her, startled by her approach, and she gave him ‘The Smile.’ It was worldly and full of carnal promises; she knew because she had practiced it for hours until she had perfected it. She may be a whore but she’d be damned if she would be less than stellar at anything she did.

“Well, hello, stranger.” Her voice had always been pleasant, but she had tuned it to a husky sensuality that made a shiver go down his spine. “You looking for some company?” It was the required question but it brought a flush to his cheeks. First-timer, she guessed. They were always a little embarrassed the first time.

“Yes, I am.” He replied. His voice had always had power over her, ever since her first year class and she felt its power now, some place low. This could be interesting, she thought idly, despite her previous opinion of him. He had never been an attractive man in her mind -- too greasy, too sallow, with bad teeth, and a worse attitude. Still, he was responding to her proximity with a flattering amount of attention.

She took his hand in her own. He had long slender fingers, slightly calloused from the work of a Potions Master, and she slid them along her thigh. She watched him as he flushed and his pupils dilated. She had studied her temporary profession with the same intensity as she had studied for the N.E.W.T.s and could catalogue every stage of male arousal; she could see that he was very interested.

“Shall we go somewhere more private?” She purred, turning her back on him and heading for the stairs. She glanced back to where he stood nervously, using the sultry gaze she had practiced to good effect and he rose to follow her with jerky movements, as if he was on an invisible leash. She smirked as she led him upstairs to her room.

The sweeping staircase with its maple risers allowed her to walk without snagging a heel on carpeting and the tiny clicks her boots made going up seemed to fascinate him -- at least, he was staring at her back the entire way up to the room.

There could be a certain satisfaction in dominating him, letting him feel her power over him, the way he had exercised power over her and all her friends for seven years. But another glance back at his face and she could read him like a book. He wasn’t looking to be dominated or for a submissive slave either, which surprised her a little; it’s what she would have expected of him.

No, she knew that look. The man behind her, watching her hair swaying and her hips swiveling, was a man looking for gentleness and compassion. This was a lonely man looking for love or a fairly good simulation of it. She couldn’t give him the former, but the latter was a specialty of hers.

She pushed open the door to the room and let him pass her, closing it behind him. He would have paid Madam Nell before he ever got to the Receiving Room, but she wasn’t sure for how long.

“How much time do we have?” She asked as she stalked towards him invitingly.

“All night.” He responded, his voice gone husky as she began to unbuckle the straps one by one. She was surprised; it cost a very great deal of money to monopolize one of Nell’s girls for the whole night. He must be either very lonely or have more money than she supposed.

He sat on the end of the bed, looking both needy and frightened, and she put one booted foot on the bed beside him, letting him have a good view of what his money had bought him. Each strap was unbuckled slowly, pulled off and then dropped to the floor, the motions practiced and seductive.

He frowned and shook his head.

“No, not like this.” He turned his head away and she paused in her undressing. He moved off the bed and towards the window, looking suddenly tired and sad.

“What do you need?” She asked him, gentling him with her voice. What a strange and perplexing man, she thought. Most men lost higher brain functions when faced with her half-dressed and stripping for them.

“Did you ever study potions?” He asked suddenly.

“Yes.” She admitted.

“Tell me the proper order of ingredients for brewing the Deflating Draught.” He rapped out as though he were quizzing her in class.

“Shrivelfig, tubeworms, jabberknoll feathers and rat spleen.” She replied with a small smile. He turned from the window and she could see his arousal growing.

“Where is gillyweed to be found?” He asked with quickened breath.

“The Mediterranean Sea.” She responded promptly and he started walking towards her, his skin flushed. She found herself becoming stimulated as well; his eyes were intense, dark and commanding. His voice was velvet and fire.

“Boil Cure Potion.” His eyes had darkened to obsidian and his voice was hypnotic; she couldn’t have not answered him if she had wanted to.

“Dried nettles, crushed snake fangs, stewed horned slugs and porcupine quills.” He pulled her against him and kissed her. She usually never let them kiss her mouth, but a man who was aroused by her breadth of knowledge was intoxicating. He was devouring her, his hands were running along her body and his mouth was driving her mad.

Interesting? Had she really thought that having him would be merely interesting? She felt like a child playing with matches who hadn’t realized she was standing next to a can of petrol. He lifted her and tossed her onto the bed, pulled off his turtleneck and skinned out of his pants.

He was fierce, he was tender, his mouth caught her breast and she was melting under his caresses. She kept enough presence of mind to try to pleasure him as well, but he swatted her hands aside and continued trailing fire down her belly with his mouth.
He grabbed her thighs, pushed them apart and dipped his mouth against her.

“Tell me the twelve uses of Dragon’s Blood.” He commanded and then bent his head to his task. She fought the tide of pleasure and forced out the list through the hazy cloud she was floating on. Just as she got to “Oven Cleaner,” shme, me, screaming, as his mouth and fingers pushed her over the edge of ecstasy.

He growled and pushed her higher on the bed. His mouth brushed her lips and the erotic charge she got from tasting her juices on him aroused her again.

“Polyjuice Potion.” He whispered sensuously into her ear. She was half-mad with pleasure as he caressed her and slipped his cocto hto her wet opening. She began to recite the full recipe to him through her pants and gasps and he rode her hard, pounding into her with a wild abandon that was both exhilarating and frightening. Who knew that underneath the high-buttoned clothes and sweeping black robes there was a madman with such intense passions in him?

She was screaming again as she came and then she felt his release as he exploded inside her, his voice gone hoarse and ragged. He collapsed beside her and she was stunned by the needy intensity of his soul. His eyes, black as the void, were watching her with a speculative curiosity.

“Who are you?” He asked and she smiled at him.

“Whoever you need me to be.” She replied with the stock answer of her trade. He seemed to have forgotten what she was for a time, for her answer made that sad bitterness return.

“Of course.” He rolled away from her and fell asleep. She levered herself onto one elbow and watched the lines smooth out and his face clear of the bitterness as he slipped into peaceful slumber.

She tucked a lock of the long dark hair away from his face; it was fine as spider silk and as soft. She felt a moment’s pang of regret and then curled up against his back and went to sleep.