The Potions Master and the Ravenclaw

"I Just Missed You. That's All."

Madeline Clovewater had served "detention" with Snape every day that week, but today was the last day of that sentence and she was starting to wonder how they'd manage to see each other after that without being discovered.

As often happens when new lovers find each other, he had made love to her every day. Taught her something new about her body (and his, for that matter). Given her intense, immeasurable pleasure. Held her. Kissed her. Made her feel like she belonged to him.

She was still trying to reconcile the caustic, sarcastic, sharp tongued potions master that inspired fear in his students with the tender and patient lover that made her feel indescribable bliss and held her safely and lovingly in his arms.

Now as she hurried to his office, she couldn't wait to touch him and taste his kiss. She craved it so much that she started running, her robe flying behind her.

Breathless, she stopped to smooth her hair and straighten her tie before knocking.

"Enter," said Snape.

He was sitting in the chair by the fireplace, a book in his hands, but he laid it on the table next to him when he saw her. She went to him and kissed him fervently, then knelt on the floor in front of him, laying her head in his lap, hugging him around the waist.

He smiled and stroked her hair.

"What's all this? Are you alright, little one?" he said softly.

"Yes, I just... missed you. That's all."

Her affection warmed his heart. God knew he was unaccustomed to it.  She was so open and gave herself to him so willingly, trusted him so completely. What could she possibly see in him?

He tipped her face up so he could look at her properly. His dark angel. So beautiful. He took a tendril of her hair, twisting it in his long, elegant fingers, feeling the softness of its texture. She took his hand and kissed his palm and then placed it over her breast. He smiled at her boldness as he played with her nipple through her shirt with his thumb. Then she slid her hand up his thigh and looked into his eyes. He smiled at her.

Madeline always seemed to want to touch him and be touched by him. This surprised him. He thought how curious it was that she wasn't afraid or shy or intimidated by him. Most were, and he encouraged it. He rather enjoyed being perceived as terrifying and sinister. It served his purpose and he cultivated that persona, but Madeline seemed impervious to it. Yes, she had been a little frightened of him at first, but no longer. She was certainly not hesitant to touch him now, and he found he quite liked it. Much more than ever thought he would. He had always been somewhat averse to physical touch on the whole (perhaps because he had experienced so little of it in his life), but he found that he enjoyed the sensation of her soft, warm hands on his face, his body. He loved it. Needed it.

"Come here, my love." He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her, his tongue warm and teasing as it slipped past her lips and found hers. She moaned sweetly as she opened her mouth to him, submitting to him completely.

Oh, she loved how he kissed her. He tasted so good and he always left her breathless and weak. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her close to him, his large hand spreading over her hip to anchor her body to his.

He finally broke the kiss and positioned her so that he could look at her face.

She was enjoying being in his lap. It made her feel safe and she could feel the strength and warmth of his body. She laid her hand gingerly on his chest and looked into his black eyes.

"Can we talk for a moment?" he asked.

"Of course, sir!"

"Tell me, Madeline. What do you want to do when you finish school? What occupation have you chosen for yourself? Or have you thought about it?"