Title: So Worthy a Colleague
Author:
iulia_linnea
Pairings: Snape/Penelope, Percy/himself
Rating: NC-17
Warning (highlight to view): Welcomed coercion in a cross-generational pairing and wandless Legilimentical mind reading (Penelope is seventeen).
Word Count: 1500
Disclaimer: This piece is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling; various publishers, including, but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books; and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Penelope likes authority.
Author's Notes: Written for
mimbulus as part of
snail_mail_porn's
Betrayal Challenge. Thank you, Anonymous and
calmingshoggoth, for beta'ing.
Penelope admires Percy. His manner is, perhaps, a
bit pompous at times, but he carries himself with masterdom. Penelope
likes authority and feels certain that, when she and her boyfriend are
eventually married, he will be an excellent husband, a good
father-and
a deft provider of the requisite firmness she yearns for in a lover.
Thus far, unfortunately, Percy's observation of the
proprieties has not
afforded Penelope much of an opportunity to discover the
wizard's
amorous proclivities.
Severus Snape has observed Miss
Clearwater's
idolatry of discipline and wants to further the witch's
practical
understanding of the concept. If only, he tells
himself, to
prime her to educate her swain in the arridement of her desires.
The Potions master knows that it is impossible to teach that which
one does not know, and he has discerned that Percy Weasley is only as
dominant as those whom he seeks to emulate.
Percy wishes his girlfriend would stop
pestering
him for premarital sex. "Penny," he reminds her
over butterbeers at the
Three Broomsticks, "as a Special Assistant to the Minister
for Magic, I
must conduct my personal affairs with the strictest decorum at all
times." He forgets to heed his own counsel as he contemplates
the
alluring silkiness of his girlfriend's black
tresses-coloring to
imagine her more intimate curls-and attempts not to dwell on
how the
vanilla scent of her skin makes him stiffen.
Penelope hates the way that Percy
calls her
"Penny." He doesn't take me
seriously, she thinks, and he
won't touch me. He believes I am too ladylike, so he
won't forget his
position and order me to assume one, she frets, gathering up
her
books after cleaning her cauldron. She is almost to the door when
Professor Snape, with that fascinatingly tenebrous voice, bids her to
remain a moment. She finds it thrilling that he does not ask.
Severus knows of Percy
Weasley's mission for Albus
Dumbledore and discusses it with the boy, who tells him, "I
trust dear
Penny, but she wouldn't understand the risks I am
taking." The Potions
master says, "You are right to shield her, of
course," but he thinks, She
craves saving from the frustration borne of your chivalry.
Severus
is adept at relieving his own tedious tensions and decides it would be
selfish not to proffer his tuition on the matter to a woman so
well-loved by a fellow Order member.
Percy goes home for lunch, early.
"A headache," he
tells Fudge's secretary, and his superior, as it happens,
though he
does not think of the fussy, officious little functionary in that
regard. He strips off the moment he Apparates into his flat. He knows
it is irregular, but he is thinking of the glimpse of Penny's
exposed,
creamy skin that he caught on their last visit, of her
décolleté, and
it is plaguing him. I must control . . . these . . . thoughts!
He chokes back a groan as he comes.
Penelope starts as Professor Snape
orders, "Follow
me," and hastens after him to his office.
"Sit," he tells her, and she
watches as he removes his robes and stands in front of his desk in his
jacket, which he begins to unbutton. Penelope tries not to stare as the
wizard removes it, as well, and looms provocatively over her in only
his embroidered vest, starched shirt, and pleated trousers. She is
forced to restrain her eyes from straying from Professor
Snape's own to
his . . . . Don't look, don't look,
don't look, she begs
herself.
Severus instructs Penelope to
"Look," and he notes
how her large brown eyes widen in confusion. "But I
am," she tells him.
"No, Miss Clearwater-I want you to look at how you
affect me," he
demands, glancing down at the stretched wool of his trousers. Penelope
looks. Severus employs Legilimancy upon her mind, pulling from it, Oh!
He's . . . so big . . . so hard-for me.
He relishes her blush,
which travels from her cheeks down her throat to gild her bosom. He
knows that she is wondering if she has fallen asleep at her worktable
and adores the way her unruly ringlets cascade about her face as she
shakes her head to clear it. He leers at the witch in his most
practiced, predatory manner and savors how Penelope swallows and
squirms.
Percy is disgusted with himself. Having
it off
in the middle of the day-what is the
matter with me? He
considers that Penny might be correct about the importance of
alleviating . . . . Perhaps I would have
noticed that Mr.
Crouch was under Imperious if I had not been so preoccupied by my baser
urges, he muses, deciding that he may very well have to
investigate
the room rates at the Hog's Head for the next time that Penny
can meet
him. No one with whom he associates would think to find him there, he
knows.
Penelope, feeling herself becoming hot
and slick,
is grateful for her robes. Her skin is tingling, and the blood rushing
to her nipples is causing them to engorge painfully. She does not think
of Percy. She wants to touch Professor Snape. He is all she can think
about, and she cannot perceive how he knows this. Oh, no!
He'll
take points for my having distracted him like this, she
worries.
"I'm sorry," she says. "I
didn't mean to make . . . ." She stops
speaking as the wizard reaches down to stroke the long, turgid length
of himself through his ebony trousers. "Oh!" she
gasps. "Oh, that's so
. . . ."
Severus stops his caresses and reaches
out to cup
Penelope's face with his palm. "So what,
Miss Clearwater? Do
you enjoy watching me masturbate myself? Do you feel responsible for my
concupiscence?" He pitches his voice-which he is
aware is his only
other benefic tool of seduction-captivatingly low and brushes
his thumb
over the quivering witch's lower lip. So full, so
very soft, he
thinks of her mouth. He is eager to put it to use. "Do you
desire to
slake this shamefully lustful state you have engendered in me by
parading yourself about my classroom with that unfastened robe and
disgracefully under-buttoned blouse of yours?" Oh,
yes, I might
very well take points, girl. "Well do
you, Penelope?" he
asks in a deliberate manner and is gratified by how the girl reacts to
hearing the syllables of her name roll slowly off of his tongue.
Percy suspects that he might be
perverted in some
way and wonders what makes it impossible for him to ignore his
inopportune lusts. He has just emerged from the washroom, and he hopes
that he will not need to visit it again. Thank Merlin for
silencing
spells, he thinks, as he adjusts the waistband of his
trousers and
returns to his office. I am definitely
booking a room at
the Hog's Head. He knows now that he is going to
have to propose to
Penny earlier than he had intended. But long engagements are
quite
respectable.
Penelope knows that she should not,
but she does
feel accountable for how she has aroused Professor Snape-who
smells of
borage and bitterness, neroli and neglect, mugwort and maleness. Percy
only ever smells of soap, she thinks. She blinks her eyes and
bravely pulls the wizard's thumb into her mouth to swirl her
tongue
over the rough, sour-tasting pad of it. I like it,
she thinks,
thrusting aside any thoughts of her perfectly proper boyfriend as she
fellates the Potions master's pertinacious digit. Tell
me what to do,
she entreats the wizard with her eyes.
Severus is hard-pressed not to sigh as
Penelope
manipulates his thumb with a delectably inexperienced enthusiasm.
"Down
on your knees," he tells her, as he withdraws his hand from
her rapt,
expectant face and unfastens his trousers. She obeys him at once.
"Take
me out," he growls, as Penelope circumspectly places her
hands on his
thighs to prepare herself. "Now, Penelope.
Hesitate again and I
shall do more than take points." The witch rolls over the
waistband of
his y-fronts and painstakingly pulls them down as far as his open
trousers will allow her to do so. "Wh-what now?"
she asks him. "Suck,"
he orders, and he bends his sharp fingernails into his palms to avoid
crying out as she laps at his needful, regnant head. One
hundred
points to Ravenclaw. One hundred-unh!
Percy is feeling better as he contrives his plans. He wishes
that
the Hog's Head was not such a disreputable establishment, but
he knows
that he must be chary. People rely upon me. I must not
jeopardize
my position, he tells himself. It reassures him to think of
how his
compatriot has promised to look after Penny. The wizard, cognizant of
Percy's consequence, has agreed to "provide Miss
Clearwater with
advanced instruction" to prevent her thoughts of him from
overwhelming
her delicate sensibilities. Professor Snape is a good
man-misunderstood much as I am myself-and I am
rather proud to know
that I have inspired such loyalty in him, Percy thinks.
"It is
wonderful to be able to rely upon so worthy a colleague."