Lustful Alchemy

21. SHARP*

I had thought that calling her by name, breaking down the wall of formality built to keep her at a distance, would make me vulnerable; I believed that allowing her to call me by name would awaken the ancient demons that lie placidly at the bottom of my soul. Instead, it all happened spontaneously, naturally, adding further beauty to what was already pleasant in itself. I don't mind letting my mind wander, losing itself in the best fantasies... but it's not something I can do forever: as I have already promised myself, I cannot bind Cassandra to me, forcing her to live a mutilated life by my side, no matter how sincere her feelings may be.

As for what I feel, I frankly feel ridiculous, continuing to set resolutions for myself that I fail to keep. No matter how much I try to remain neutral and distant, consciously avoiding the situations that I know would make me give in and fall at her feet like a faithful subject before a splendid and powerful queen: Cassandra attracts me like a bloody magnet, often distracting me from my work and leading me to do even the stupidest and most irresponsible things just to see her or have the opportunity to spend a little time with her, beyond the time we spend together as teachers. And that's why I'm standing outside Gladrags Wizardwear, keeping an eye on the flow of people entering but especially leaving the clothing shop, while the streets of Hogsmeade are snowy and almost deserted on this early December Saturday, since all the students on the trip have taken refuge in other shops to stay warm.

Cassandra, on the other hand, watched from a distance, after her usual visit to Tomes and Scrolls, has decisively headed to Augustus Hill's shop. I know well the reason for the visit: in a few days most of the students will return home for the Christmas holidays, but for those who will stay at Hogwarts, as always, there will be nice celebrations where elegant attire may not be expressly required, but is always appreciated. Needless to say, when I found out that she would be staying at the castle over Christmas, I immediately announced that I would stay as well. Within a few days, I will then necessarily have to travel back to the Ministry of Magic, so I might as well enjoy at least Christmas in pleasant company for the first time in too many years...

I dispel those negative thoughts that begin to wrap around my heart and head like fingers of black smoke and carefully observe the outline of the shop a few metres from me. From my position, I can keep an eye on all the doors. When I am certain that all the people who entered, except for Cassandra, have finally left, I start walking, my right hand closed around the handle of the wand hidden under my coat. I open the shop door and with a silent flick of my wand, I subject Hill and Otto Dibble to my control with Imperius – one of the few privileges of no longer being an Auror – so that they are not a disturbance and entertain any potential customers away from the fitting rooms.

I let myself be guided by the trail of Cassandra's perfume to find her: behind a screen, trying on beautiful dresses made of precious fabrics with elaborate embroidery. I see her shadow moving lightly as she gracefully slips off one dress and puts on another, making it cling to her soft, fair skin.

Her voice rises from behind the screen: «Could I have a hand with the corset, Mr Hill?».

We may not be the same person, but I have the impression she prefers my hands. I take advantage of her still being turned away to surprise her from behind: «Will mine do?», I whisper in her ear, coming up from behind and grabbing the laces of the corset that hangs loosely around her chest, revealing more than modesty allows.

She raises her head abruptly: «Aesop! What are you doing?», she asks, turning slightly to look at me, my name sweet as honey on her lips. I can't help but think of the first time we found ourselves in this same position: her soft buttocks against my erection, the tender flesh of her neck red and bruised under my mouth, and her erect nipples between my fingers.

«I'm glad to see you too», I reply, chuckling and lowering my voice, not because I fear Hill and Dibble, under the Imperius Curse, might overhear, but because I love seeing Cassandra's skin shiver with each breath of mine. I begin to tighten her corset, threading the ribbons through the eyelets with exasperating slowness. «Don't you think old Hill would have seen too much?», I ask, glancing at her décolleté.