Assassin

Chapter One- Meeting


They met, as most lovers do, in a place no one would have expected to be the birth of a romance. Gray mist had laced the day, as if to show a somber face for the death of a hero.

She had come a long distance, it was easy to see, from the state of her heavy black robes. Disorderly and with a weary look about her that was apparently due to much traveling, the woman stood against a large tree, her gloved hand upon it as if in need of support.
He had been standing apart from the small gathering of people who had assembled for the burial of Potter's remains, aware that he was not wanted. But they were under supervision, after all, and it was only through him that they had even gotten to see the grave.

Only the remainder of the Weasleys, a few school friends, and a number of stolid supporters had come for the Boy-Who-Lived. It was not because his death was not lamented by witches and wizards everywhere, but because Harry Potter had not wanted a publicized death. Of that fact everyone was sure. Besides, the Dark Lord would not have allowed it. Fear of punishment kept people holed up in their homes. It wasn't as though their presence would have meant anything anyway, they reasoned. Safety first.
However, no one knew or noticed the young woman who stood there watching, save for one former Potions Master and condemned Death Eater.

Obsidian eyes were drawn to her form, blond hair trailing down her back like a rippling field of wheat. He could not note the color of her eyes, for she was too far away. But he could see that they were intent and focused on his.

As though an invisible line drew him to her, Severus Snape walked. He knew not why his feet were walking with such surety, as though he had been Imperio-ed. He only knew that he must go; that every fiber in his body were tingling towards the mysterious young woman with honey hair.

When he reached her, the woman looked at his face without flinching. A novelty. Most of the wizarding world regarded him with a mixture of fear and revulsion. Even nonmagical peoples were distinctly uncomfortable with the tall, white faced man with a perpetual grimness attached to him, like a shadow. His silky voice inspired dislike, the sharp basilisk intelligence made him useful but dangerous, and his physical appearance was not handsome, to say the least. Not that Severus was ugly. His features were very fierce, overtly masculine, to be engaging. With a largely protruding nose, thin expressive lips, eyes like midnight pools, and skin whiter than the moon, he was considered less than attractive by most witches. And that was putting aside all the negative connotation given him by the title of Death Eater.

Yet this witch before him had no expression in her face. No fright or hatred lit the eyes, which he noticed were a subdued grayish-blue. Something about her distracted him, however. Something not quite right. Before he could consider her further however, the woman vanished.

In her place was a scrap of parchment.

"Meet me when the stars appear. The Hog's Head. Germaine G. Horner." His hand closed around the paper, and he placed it inside his inner pocket, beside his heart.

*

Business was bad as of late, unsurprisingly. The bartender looked up briefly at the glamoured customer that walked in, shrugged, though a tad curious. Not many wizards dared to come out anymore to Hogsmeade, danger being only a few steps away. In fact, besides the man who had just come, only another person was in the bar tonight- a pretty woman he didn't recognize, though most who frequented the Hog weren't inclined to show their real faces.

She had ordered red currant wine, nursed it silently as she scribbled into a small notebook with invisible ink. When the door of the bar opened, the woman stopped immediately, and slipped the leather bound booklet into the pocket of her robes. She did not look up from her drink when the man slipped into the seat in front of her.

"Good evening."

"I would not say it is quite the time to be out at night," the man said quietly.

"These are dangerous times," she replied, lifting her glass to her lips. "Day or night makes no difference anymore."

"That is true," he complied. "Why did you want to meet me?"

"Why did you come?"

Severus Snape was silent for a moment. When he answered, it was with a blunt honesty that he had not used for a long time. "You intrigue me. Something about you draws me, though I do not know why. I came because I felt I had to."

"I see." She did not speak again, merely looked at him with an expression on her face that he could not decipher.

"Are you going to answer my question?"

"I suppose it's because I wanted to," she said simply, her eyes lifting up to his. They were positively smoldering with heat as they gazed upon him, her red lips sensuous against the rim of her glass. He was suddenly aware of how her breasts stretched the front of her robes, how lovely the curve of her neck was. His mouth longed to press a kiss against the alabaster flesh, to make it pinken with sighs and to sweep his hands down the length of her smooth body.

"Would you like to meet me in a more personal way?" Severus asked, his voice low and husky.

Her smile was answer enough.

*

He drew out his pouch of coins, pressed a few Galleons into the outstretched hand of the bartender, who smiled knowingly as he handed Severus a key. Blood pounded in his ears as he thought of what was to come.

They walked without speaking until they reached the room. In a slow move that was somehow breathtakingly intimate, the woman took the key from Severus' hand and opened the door.

He barely took in the surroundings- walls papered in pale blue, a framed painting of a picnic scene, amber lighting from a glass lamp, and a king-sized bed covered with white linen sheets. Severus' gaze narrowed upon the lovely witch before him. How long had it been since he had taken a willing woman to his bed? The answer was depressing. His eyelids closed shut, languorous, as he breathed in the clean fragrance of her body.

His eyes opened again when he felt the touch of her hand curved around his shoulder, warm and soft. Their eyes met. His breath caught when she smiled again, her fingers idly caressing his pale face.

Warmth pooled at his loins when her hot mouth pressed against his, her hands now running freely through the dark locks.

"Germaine..."

A low growl of pleasure rumbled through the wizard's frame, his fingers rough as they ripped aside the black robes that clung to her body, his mouth frenzied and hot upon hers. His tongue violently wrestled with the woman's, enticing soft moans of pleasure from her.

She sighed as her robes fell gracefully around her feet and the cool air touched her skin. His gaze swept over her, coating it with a blush as he let no part of her go unseen. Pink and white flesh covered a rather petitely made female body, the breasts lush and firm, topped with raspberry nipples that begged to be tasted. Eyes fixed upon the still standing woman, Severus lowered his head to her chest, and took a nipple into the cavern of his mouth.

The blue eyes fluttered shut with pleasure, and he continued to lick and suckle her breasts as he lifted the woman up to bring her to the bed. Laying her down, he traced a path with his mouth down her slightly rounded stomach, delighting in the softness of it.

"Stop teasing," she said, her voice aching with need.

"Are you sure?" he asked, nibbling gently at her thighs.

Soon she could not speak at all as she rode on the waves of pleasure. When she fell back down, her face was dotted with perspiration and his thick manhood was red and dripping against her thighs with his lust. Their breaths mingling, he rose above her, spread her damp thighs apart with his knee and entered her wet cove.

Gasping as his cock pushed aside layers of sodden velvet, his hands palming the perfect rotund breasts, his mouth burrowed in the nape of the golden neck, Severus' mind blanked out with the loveliness of it all. Stars formed behind his closed lids as he pumped between the creamy thighs, each thrust eliciting sounds of deepest enjoyment as the tight folds squeezed his cock. The two moved rhythmically in the dance older than time, until the tide brought them over the edge of their lust, and settled them back on earth once more.

Utterly relaxed, Severus Snape did not see the coldness of the witch's eyes as she moved her body away from his. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying the quietness of the room and the warmth of a female frame beside his. In a state that was almost like sleep, Severus half-dreamed for a while. Then, he heard Germaine's voice whisper.

"Severus, you must die." His eyes slid open to see hatred fill the blue eyes with an unearthly light, the white hand that had been touching him wrapped tightly around her wand, which was pointed at his head...

Quick as a flash, Severus Snape wandlessly Accio-ed his wand and cast a Full-Body Bind on the witch.

"Who are you?" he hissed, focused on the naked assassin before him.


**
A/N: Don't know where this is going, lol. Just an idea that popped up, and thought I'd post it. Tell me what you think.