Being of Sound Mind

Disclaimer: J.K.R. owns them (lucky her). She’s the one making the money from them, not me. I’m just playing with them for the time being.

Warnings: Drunken, self-humiliating behavior by our favorite Potions Master

I Severus Snape, Being of Sound Mind:

Severus Snape had wanted to indulge in a day of hedonism. School was out for the summer holidays, it was still pleasantly cool during the very early morning hours, and he had absolutely nothing that needed his attention for the day. Further assuring him that he would not be interrupted was the fact that Albus Dumbledore was away from the school for the entire week. As he had departed late the previous evening, he was unlikely to floo call for a check-up until the following day.

At 5:00 in the morning he had given up on the notion of sleep, which was not unusual; Severus was a man who had grown accustomed to sleepless nights. As he dressed he chose to forgo his customary attire for something more in keeping with his plans for the day.

Thin, light-weight cotton trousers replaced the heavier wool slacks, and a silk, collarless tunic replaced his normally more severe style. The sleeves were full and gathered in at the mid-forearm to form long, snug cuffs. The tunic was a bit longer than normal, stopping at his mid-calf. The splits in the sides and back extended almost to his waist. The ensemble was complete with over a hundred small sliver buttons. On his trousers were buttons up the entire length of his legs; mostly decorative, their functionality stopped just below his knees. Due to the cut of the tunic, the buttons on the front of the trousers were clearly visible, too. The buttons on the tunic overlapped those of the pants by three, so the appearance was that of buttons from his throat to his crotch. When he had purchased the garments, he had a more seductive impulse in mind, but had later decided against that particular plan. Severus chose to go without a cloak or his professor’s robe, in spite of the fact that he felt “the family jewels” were dangerously close to being exposed in the lighter weight trousers, a part of the original plan to be certain.

Looking in the mirror, Severus concentrated on his hair. By the time he had finished, it had grown down to his shoulder blades. Today it would hang loose and over his shoulders, all but that which would be considered fringe. That was pulled to the back of his head and secured with an emerald and silver clip. Once he was satisfied with his appearance, a first in several years, he flooed to The Leaky Cauldron.

While strolling down Diagon Alley, he was surprised to see that the seedier places were still in operation, in fact, the patrons did not seem bothered to be seen visiting such establishments. He selected one such business and entered. The proprietor had been a classmate of Severus’s. A casual discussion with the man revealed that with the Dark Lord actually gone this time, people were not afraid of being termed guilty, simply based on appearances. The new ministry had gone a long way to ensure rights and freedoms for the wizarding world. Severus had been aware of many of the changes Harry Potter had enacted upon becoming the Minister of Magic, a position he had not wanted or applied for but still had been the overwhelming majority winner in the elections – as a write-in.

It was hard for Severus to believe that two years had already passed since Harry had defeated Voldemort in his seventh year at Hogwarts. It was even more difficult to think of the impertinent brat as the new Minister, but in all honesty, the boy had done an outstanding job so far. He had been extremely fair in his dealings with the former Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy’s meager existence had been proof of that. Lucius had not lost everything, merely his access to it. The Malfoy fortune had been locked in Gringotts and declared untouchable for five generations, starting with Draco’s children, which meant that seven generations of Malfoys would have to work for their living. Harry had dealt with the Malfoys personally. Lucius was now a very closely supervised professor at Beauxbatons, teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Narcissa had left him when everything was taken from the family; her whereabouts remained unknown. Draco had gone into Muggle London and was doing well as an up and coming artist.

Malfoy Mansion had become a museum dedicated to the dark arts, with all proceeds going directly to the St. Mungo’s Orphanage. Hermione Granger had become the curator upon her graduation, and Bill Weasley had become her assistant. The things the pair had uncovered were leading to world wide fame. Severus found himself in near constant communication with one or the other. He had taught both and they viewed him as a research starting place, not that he objected; it felt good to be needed in a manner that put all of the bad things in his adult life to good use.

Hermione had challenged Severus shortly after becoming the curator. Severus had been denying her requests for assistance; she had tried various different approaches and avenues of logic. One night, in the Hogwarts Library, she had resorted to stamping her foot in frustration. As Severus had turned to leave, Hermione grabbed his robes and turned him to face her again.

“Severus, look into my eyes and let me see your soul. I know you have one. The war is over. You don’t have to be the hated, evil fiend any longer.”

“I’ll show you my soul, oh, yes. But let me see your darkness, Miss Granger. Or perhaps you are too afraid of your own demons to reach that deeply within your own soul.”

And it had happened; looking into her eyes, he felt her limited occluding skills fall away. He had been drawn into her mind and saw just how dark the corners of her unusually sharp mind really were. He had been shaken to the very core of his being with the knowledge of dark arts stored in such a pretty vessel. Severus never refused her his services again.

Upon consideration, it was very hard for Severus to believe it had only been two years, since the last battle had ended the war.

While visiting with the man, and wandering through the store, Severus found several items which had previously been illegal to possess in Brittan, items which were highly prized by Potions Masters. This being a day for hedonism, Severus indulged. He did, after all, have a hypothesis regarding human placenta and Wolfsbane which he was ready to turn into a theory. Arrangements were made to have the purchase delivered directly to his private lab.

As Severus continued on his way, he caught sight of the new line of racing brooms on display in Quality Quidditch Supply. He did have to admit that he liked the looks of the new silver broom, and of course most of the school’s team members now had models which were superior to his. Severus was still admiring the broom when a staff member stepped out to address him. Of course, the clerk assured him, he knew who Professor Snape was, and he would be honored to allow the Head of Slytherin to have a test flight behind the store, if the professor so desired.

So it was, that in a few short moments Severus found himself enamored with the power and responsiveness cradled between his thighs. The shaft was slightly thicker and longer then he was accustomed to, but when he gripped it and mounted it, he found the ride to be the smoothest he had ever experienced. There was no irritating vibration; only a faint humming sensation was felt as Severus increased his speed; a sensation he could easily adjust to, and in fact might not even notice in his usual, wool trousers. As it was, he found the sensation to be rather stimulating. The decision was already made by the time he landed. As he paid for his new broom, he noticed the one-line sales pitch printed on the box.

“And where would you like this delivered to, sir?”

“Main entrance, Hogwarts, if you please,” Severus said with a large smirk as he pictured the Deputy Headmistress’s expression upon its arrival. ‘Put something exhilarating between your legs indeed,’ he thought to himself, as the rather exotic humming sensation had yet to abate.

It was nearing lunchtime when Severus encountered Hermione and Ginny Weasley heading into The Leaky Cauldron.

“Severus, why don’t you join us? We were just going into Muggle London for lunch at the Hard Rock Café,” Hermione offered.

“Miss Weasley, would you object to my joining the two of you for lunch?”

“Not at all; the more the merrier!”

With that, the peculiar looking trio set off. Severus knew that he would draw some looks, but with the rise in gothic styles, most onlookers would dismiss his appearance. Both of the young ladies were dressed in short skirts, and high-heeled shoes. The most unusual thing about them was the age difference, he realized as the waiter at the café gave Severus a knowing smirk of his own. He would have been at a loss to explain why this bothered him at the moment, but it did, significantly.

“Hermione, would you order for me? You know my likes and dislikes reasonably well. Ladies, please excuse me,” he said rising gracefully and moving away from the small table.

As he passed the waiter, Severus leaned in and asked for directions to the men’s room and added, “As my daughter will be ordering for me, I believe they are ready to place their orders.”

As the meal got under way, the three discovered just how small the table really was. They were each touching knees with someone else; movement only changed which knee was being touched. However, the food and company were agreeable. Severus even found that he was singing along in his mind with some of the songs which were providing the ambiance, while Ginny and Hermione occasionally sang aloud or discussed the latest amusing pick-up lines used on them. He also found that he was now regretting not wearing thicker trousers. Each giggle was accompanied by a wiggle that found its way down to a bare, feminine knee; which then wiggled against his knee or thigh. Of course, once the wiggle traveled up his thigh and reached his crotch, it decided to make itself at home, this just as his testicles had recovered from the test flight. For sanity’s sake he devoted his attention to the music, humming along when he knew the song and focusing on learning the ones he did not know.

‘…come a little closer huh, will ya huh, close enough to look in my eyes Sharona…’ With an inward chuckle he glanced over at Hermione, recalling similar words from her. Fortunately, she was in deep conversation, so he went on with the parts of the song he could remember. The song had been popular a few years after he had left Hogwarts, ‘…keepin’ it a mystery, gets to me, running down the length of my thigh Sharona…’ Another giggle led to another wiggle which led to another throb. ‘…Such a dirty mind, I always get it up from the touch of the younger kind, My my my- my great Merlin, you bloody, deranged bastard!’ Severus clamped down on his run-away train of thought and tried to strangle the living daylights out of it, treacherous interloper that it was.

“If you ladies will excuse me, I need to wash up before I head back to Diagon Alley,” Severus said curtly as he rose and spun around in one movement, silently thanking the deities for the dim lighting.

“Well, Hermione, do you think he’s noticed anything yet,” Ginny inquired as she watched the gliding back move away from their table.

“Absolutely! He’s been much too quiet.”

“I don’t know, he still seems rather formal. I thought, for a little while, that he was relaxing. Suddenly that mask slipped back in place.”

“Exactly. That formality is his mask, and it slipped back in place, as you put it, when he took notice.”

When Severus returned to the table, his companions were ready to leave. He reached for his money to pay for their meals, after all was not his purpose for today pure pleasure; and it had been a very pleasurable lunch. He could never remember having two attractive 20 year olds rubbing against him at once. ‘Eat your heart out Lucius,’ he thought, even though his sense of propriety kept firmly reminding him that while indulgence in physical pleasure was his goal, these two were strictly off limits.

“I’ve already taken care of it,” Hermione said. “It is a business expense, after all. Ginny had been at the museum this morning helping me, and I had planned to floo out to see you regarding an ongoing project of mine. Do you have time to floo back with me now, or would a latter meeting be more suitable for you,” she asked, pointedly looking him up and down before continuing, “You do look as if you had other plans. And might I add, it is a very nice look for you.”

“Ah, thank-you, Hermione,” Severus said, fighting back the warmth that threatened to spread into his cheeks. “I had nothing specific planned for the day, so now would be as good a time as any to stop by the museum.”

At the public floo in The Leaky Cauldron, Ginny stepped in and called out, “Museum of the Dark Arts.” In a green flash of flames she disappeared as Hermione and Severus were talking.

“Actually, Severus, what I wanted your assistance with is not at the Museum. Would you allow me to apparate us jointly?”

“It is not my preferred manner of apparition, but if you insist. Shall we,” he asked, opening his arms for Hermione to step into the requisite embrace.

As he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and splayed his hands across her small back he felt surprisingly strong arms slip around his waist and firmly pull her slight frame against his. Before he could register his own reactions, he experienced the disorientation of disapparating and apparating under the control of someone else. This was even more disturbing than that preformed through the dark mark, as one could intimately feel the others body.

“Where are we, if I may ask?” Severus had regained his physical equilibrium quickly enough, but the scene that greeted him left his mental faculties scrambling.

“A bedroom,” she simply said, brown eyes smiling innocently enough.

“I can see that, Miss Granger,” Severus snapped coolly, reverting to his formal facade.

“My home,” Hermione said as if speaking to a slow child. Her smile was more roguish, which left Severus pondering the change.

“Ah, I see. Am I to presume there was no other appropriate room to apparate to? Say, the parlor, the kitchen-”

“The bathroom, my closet-”

“I am aware there were less suitable places, Miss Granger. So, what interest do you have now which requires my assistance,” Severus asked in an attempt to gain control of his present dilemma. As he tried to move out of the embrace he realized that Hermione had yet to release her part of it.

At her silence, an alarm sounded somewhere between his ears, causing him to snap his eyes back to hers. There was definitely no innocence now, and some repressed, instinctual portion of his brain had no problem identifying the new expression. ‘…while indulgence in physical pleasure was your goal, she is strictly off limits…’

“Miss Gr-”

“Hush, Severus,” she whispered; her breath ghosting across his lips as she covered them with her own.

‘…is your goal, she is strictly off limits…’ Another attempt to move from the embrace resulted in her arms tightening before the kiss ended.

“Hermione,” he shakily whispered, “this is wrong.”

After another searing kiss, Severus was struggling to remember what he had said.

“Severus, we are consenting adults; not at the school or the museum, but in the privacy of my own home. No one knows we’re here, at least none who could even remotely be offended. There is nothing wrong with this,” she said against his neck, sending shivers through his body. Her hands had started moving in a soothing rhythm across his lower back. Her hands on his lower back provided the leverage she needed to grind her pelvis against his thigh, repeatedly… in a rotational manner much more suited for-

‘…she is strictly off limits…’

“What, precisely, do you desire from me Hermione?” Her hair smelled faintly of patchouli and vanilla, an extraordinary combination. But then the slender young woman who was still wrapped around him was a singularly knowledgeable witch; a knowledge which covered a vast array of subjects.

She tilted her head back to better look at his face. She was indisputably shocked at the directness of his question. She worked her mouth trying to form words but only succeeded in stammering, drawing a chuckle from the mordant man. Severus remembered all to well a day nearing the end of her first year when she tried to create reason for three young Gryffindors to be inside the school on a beautiful spring day.

“Yes, Miss Granger, you may answer the question,” he said, adopting his most imposing ‘professor’s’ voice; a scheming tone she recognized immediately.

“I fail to see a reason for playing mind games at this point, Severus...” He had never heard his name roll so artfully from someone’s mouth. His name, coming from her mouth, was enough to distract him from the weakening voice in his mind spouting something about pleasure and limits. He felt a sharp pain as she fisted her hands against his back in anger.

“… know I’ve been out on the front line where you’ll go down if you waste time. I no longer have the tolerance for games-” In her tirade, she had taken a few steps away from him to minimize the angle at which she had to tilt her head so she could look into his eyes.

“Yes, Hermione, I do know,” Severus said, awakening from the mind numbing effects of the patchouli. “I saw so many of your classmates go down, students I was responsible for. I saw the Gryffindor brigade lead the way across the grounds for the final confrontation. I saw you and Ginny blocking for Potter so he could focus on Voldemort. It took all the strength I had not to fall apart during that final battle.”

The emotion that filled his voice and eyes tore at her soul. He was no longer the strong, silent, proud warrior she had been infatuated with since her fifth year; he was so much more. He stood before her now as a man, an underestimated, extremely powerful wizard, with a craft that only a very few individuals possessed the predisposition to truly comprehend. He stood before her as a man, raw emotion in his voice and etched in his face. He stood before her as a man who deserved to be treated with so much more respect than a quick afternoon roll between the sheets. Large tears welled up in her eyes as she realized the extent of the damage she may have inflicted upon their friendship.

Severus moved in close to her, cupping her face in his hands.

“I believe I know what it was you desired from me today,” he hoarsely whispered. “But that which we would have had for today only, would have been a lie. Before I go let me kiss you and wipe the tears from your eyes; I don’t want to hurt you, girl you know I could never lie.”

With a gentle caress of his thumbs and a warm chaste kiss, he stepped away from her so that he could apparate.

“You have neither harmed our friendship, nor our working relationship. Please do not hesitate to call on me, regardless of the time or reason.” And he was gone.

***

“Tom, a large bottle of Ogden’s, a glass, a room as far away from civilization as possible, and a wake up call for the next century,” Severus ordered as he stepped up to the bar. ‘You fool, you could have bedded her with no expectation of commitments whatsoever,’ recited a ridiculing voice in the back of his mind; a voice that sounded suspiciously like that of Lucius Malfoy.

Severus had poured a glass of whiskey at the bar, and nursed it while on the way to his room, although once inside the room he dispensed with the glass. With a thought of the rather expensive clothing he had on, he paused in his pursuit of the bottom of the bottle long enough to strip and carefully hang the garments in the room’s armoire.

‘You wanted pleasure, you bloody arse! You had planned on a bit of feminine companionship, even if you had to pay for it. You could have had pleasures beyond you wildest dreams. You could have had your wildest dreams; her! She was wrapped up, in your arms, and presented to you free of charge. All you had to do was keep your fucking mouth shut. She even asked you to do that very thing. But you had to go Gryffindor on us and develop a bloody noble streak.’ It really was annoying how much that voice resembled Lucius’s. Severus did observe one magical trait of the whiskey, however, the lower the level in the bottle, the less it mattered what the voice said or sounded like.

At some point a different voice began echoing in his head, and a sound, like fire but not quite…

“Severus, my boy, can you hear me? Severus…”

“Mm-hmm, yeah.” Severus tried to roll onto his side to better face the fireplace, and fell off the edge of the bed. He finally pulled himself into a sitting position in front of the fire, leaning against the bed.

“My word Severus, what has happened? Are you drunk, son?”

‘Ah, yes, Head goat, in the fire, wants to talk, to you. You have a job to do, must talk with the sacred goat, no wait, cow, sacred cow…’ Severus pulled himself from his rambling thoughts long enough to look at the man flooing him. ‘Nope, not a cow, definitely a goat.’ He was completely unaware that he sat naked on the floor, laughing like a mad man before the venerable man.

“Great Merlin, what has happen to you to lead you to such a drunken state?”

Later Severus would remember that the question had been a rhetorical one, if only he had kept his mouth shut.

“Dumbledore, I swear to drunk I’m not Merlin,” was all the Potions Master could say before he slumped over sideways, melting down the side of the bed.

Sometime later he roused from his sleep only enough to register a pounding noise; then someone was talking, entirely to loud to be understood, and shaking him. ‘Shaking, making everything spin, must stop spinning, getting sick.’ As Severus recovered from his nausea, he found himself facing a pair of black leather boots with silver accents. ‘Nice boots,’ he thought as he laid his cheek on top of the boot. ‘Nice, and comfortable, and cool-’

“OWW! That was my pillow, bring it back,” he mumbled as he rubbed the spot on his cheekbone that had struck the floor. ‘Nice floor, cool floor,’ he thought as he watched the boots walk away from him, and then drifted back into a painless sleep.

Much later Severus became aware that a warm breeze was blowing across his body, his naked and somewhat aroused, body. He was also acutely aware that opening his eyes was going to be extremely painful. As his thoughts became more focused, he was able to register that he had been moved from the cool wooden floor to an infinitely more comfortable bed. He could smell scents of summer on the breeze blowing across him, and the burning behind his closed eyelids told him that it was light, bright light and entirely too much of it for his own good. He started to shift his weight to allow him to roll to his side, when it all came back to him. Falling from the bed… Dumbledore in the floo… Sliding down the bed… Hermione’s bed with all its little pillows… Strictly off limits… The bottle, to drown that voice… That voice that was now speaking again… No, really here, physically speaking-

“…me? Severus? Severus? Can you hear me?”

“Mm-hmm? Mmm, I’m up.” His throat and mouth felt as if a sheep had taken up residence there, tasted that way, too.

“That much is obvious,” the voice said as a cool breeze caused his swollen cock to twitch happily. “My, my Severus; I must admit when Dumbledore called with his concern, I was curious to find out what had put you in such a state.” As Lucius waited for his friend to get the connection between his brain and mouth operational, his own concern over the man’s condition grew.

“Severus, do you remember what happened last night or even during the previous day? Do you know where you are?”

“Yes… Some no tell, motel, hotel bed, and if it wasn’t for the sunlight I’d swear I was dead. I would feel infinitely better if I were.”

“Ah, well now that your charming sense of humor has returned, I want you to get out of bed. I want you to get cleaned up. I want you to get dressed. I noticed you did have enough presence of mind to make certain you had something to wear today; quite nice, too, if I may say. After that, I want you to eat something. Then I want you to contact Miss Granger and thank her for her concern, it was she who advised the Headmaster that you might not be of sound mind. Then I want you to take care of a package waiting for you at the school’s main entrance, it seems to be creating some mild distress for Professor McGonagall, something of a suggestive nature, I believe. Although I fail to see why she would be concerned with what you may put between your legs. Then I want -”

“Do you want fries with that, Lucius,” Severus snapped in response to the “I want” litany. “Nice boots, by the way. I don’t suppose you would be willing to trade with me would you,” he added in an attempt to distract the blond.

“They would go rather well with your new look, wouldn’t they,” Lucius smirked as Severus slowly and painfully made his way to the bath.

When he emerged from the bath, clad in a low slung towel, Lucius took note of just how much his old friend had changed over the previous several months. Severus had lost the pallid, skinny look that had been his trademark for over 20 years. His hair no longer hung in lank greasy locks, but thick and glossy. While his collar bones still stood in stark relief against his chest, his neck had thickened some and his shoulders had rounded out a bit. The man was still wiry, but there was muscle definition in his upper arms, and enough in his chest that it now tapered into the still slim waist and hips. There was some curve to the muscles in his thighs and calves, too. Enough, in fact, to rival the condition that Lucius had kept himself in. In spite of the revelation, Lucius was unprepared when his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the muscles flexing across Severus’s back as he tended to the simple task of fixing his hair in the emerald clip. He also did not miss the three crescent shaped cuts in that well muscled back. Small cuts, obviously fingernail marks.

‘Draco may well have been correct in his observations at the café,’ Lucius thought with a smirk and a glance to the clothing that had been worn during the luncheon. Upon seeing his godfather enter the café in provocative clothing, with the Wizarding World’s two most eligible bacholeretts in accompaniment, Draco had wasted no time in contacting his father.

As Severus turned to his clothing, which Lucius had laid out upon the bed, his eyebrow rose in demand for an explanation.

“The boots do go rather well with your new look, and I want the details. It is a small compromise,” Lucius intoned with a mischievous glint in his eyes, hiding the surprise he had at the comfort and quality of Severus’s own boots.


fin~

Songs used: Second Verse, second line of each

“My Sharona” by The Knack
“Raise Your Hands” by Bon Jovi
“I Will Survive” by Gloria Gainer
“Hard Luck Woman” by KISS
“Look What the Cad Dragged In” by Poison