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His eyes are bright with a wretched triumph and they are the only thing Severina can see past her blazing anger.
“What did you say to me?” she hisses, wand clenched in her fierce grip like a Merlin-be-damned lifeline. Behind Sirius Black are his friends and even Potter looks scandalised, reaching for Black’s arm, only for the fool to step forwards – crowding her and placing himself head to head with her.
“I said,” Black repeats, baring his teeth, “That all your Death Eater pals must be having a hard time getting anything from your shallow cunt, Snape.”
It’s a new brand of insult. Usually, he’d talk about her greasy hair or her hooked nose, taunting her about calling Lily a mudblood or baiting her into a fight. The latter doesn’t usually take that much to prompt – but they’ve both got warnings from McGonagall and Slughorn about duking it out, so now only petty name-calling will suffice.
However, this is something else. Something about Severina boils at the concept, which is altogether demeaning and not something she’s ever done. To be talked about as if she’s ready to be passed around her group of similarly-minded acquaintances like a ragdoll incenses her, but also takes her off-guard. She almost doesn’t know how to reply.
Almost.
“This, coming from the consummate whore of Gryffindor!” Severina snarls, showing her own grisly smile. They’re so close that they’re breathing the same air and she can smell him: like the Forbidden Forest and the scent of something perfuming, an artificial musk that Severina finds she hates, even without knowing it’s coming off of Sirius Black. “At least I have my dignity.”
Black scoffs. “Dignity? You wouldn’t know dignity if it slapped you in the face. You’re a dark witch, Snape – you lost all dignity the moment you started dabbling. It’s made a mark on you that’ll never be erased.”
“Like most witches have made on you?” Severina replies, her heart pounding at his accusation. She doesn’t want to face why – not when it involves questioning magic that keeps her safe. She sneers at him instead. “You’ve probably slept with enough women to have spread your own strand of disease around.”
“Ha!” He barks bitterly, shaking his head. “You’re mistaken.”
“And so are you – but that didn’t stop you from saying it, bastard.” Severina would spit at him, if it weren’t such a coarse move. “I bet,” she taunts, “you only know how to get yourself off, anyway.”
His bright eyes, grey and sparking with resolve, glare at her. “Are you questioning my prowess, Snape?”
“Yes.” Severina tilts her head, sneer becoming a smirk. “All those rumours…I wonder if you told them yourself, creating a reputation that you just…can’t…back up.”
Potter grabs for Black again. “Mate, let’s go-”
Black shrugs him off. “Nah. I’m being insulted, Jamie. The cunt of the dungeons is trying to make a point. You go along – I’ll be right behind you.”
Seeing the other Gryffindor’s hesitation, Severina adds, “Don’t worry. He doesn’t last long, supposedly.”
Making a nasty face at her, Black turns his head, jerking it in a soundless way of saying go. Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew hesitate only briefly, but then walk away. She sees them looking back at them every so often, all the way until the end of the corridor where they turn a corner, leaving them both alone in an empty hallway.
“A shame,” Severina says, pausing dramatically. “I was wondering if it was true that you swap out with them while fucking a girl, to prove you can last ten minutes.”
His anger is clear. “My friends aren’t involved in any of my nightly activities.”
Severina affects a mocking pout, “But you can’t prove that.”
“Can’t I?” And then Black grabs her arms, pushing her up against a wall. All the breath in her lungs is pushed out of her at the sudden contact with stone and Severina feels the line of a body against her, skin prickling beneath her robes as her whispers in her ear. “What are you going to do, Snape? Are you that desperate to get fucked by Sirius Black?”
“No,” Severina refutes, but she doesn’t know what to do. Her heart is still pounding – but now, it beats that hard because she’s trapped. This situation is unfamiliar to her in its entirety. Unfortunately for Severina, her mouth decides to run away with her. “Are you that desperate to save your reputation? You’d even sleep with the cunt of the dungeons-” she forces his lewd name for her to come out in a drawl, rather than a rebuking shout “-before giving up your pride?”
He growls. “I’d sleep with the Dark Lord himself, before surrendering my pride to you.”
Severina shudders at the idea, gritting her teeth to reply with, “I didn’t know you swung that way.”
“I swing every way,” Black says to her. Then there is silence, tense and full of something Severina doesn’t know what to name. He’s still pressed up against her, slender hands wrapped around her biceps; likewise, Severina still clutches her wand. She’s protected. She could blast him off her in an instant.
But she has to have the last word, even if it means her doom.
“I bet you’ve never even slept with anyone. I bet you’re a fraud.”
The other seventh-year stares at her. There is nothing but hate in those eyes. One of her arms is released, but only so Black can wrench open the broom cupboard to his right, gesturing to it with an unshaking arm, solid in his offer.
“You’re wrong.” And willing to prove it.
Severina, idly, thinks that he’s gone mad. That doesn’t stop her from silencing the area and stuffing her wand up her sleeve, getting an equal grip on his robes so that she can drag him inside. Black slams the door behind them and darkness fills her vision, even as he presses her up against a wall and presses their lips together. Severina has never been kissed before – so immediately, she falls into the trap that is giving him the lead.
His lips are soft against hers, but solid; and when his tongue dips in to draw hers into a convoluted dance, his hands drag up the skirt of her robes, bunching them around her waist. Severina doesn’t know what to do with her hands, still holding onto the loose fabric over his chest. The kiss goes on – it doesn’t stop and Severina learns how to breathe through it. But her full body locks when he ducks his hands over the curve of her arse, dipping underneath her cotton underwear.
Instantly, Black stills, their lips and tongues parting as he hurriedly asks her, “Do you still want this?”
Severina’s mouth is dry and she realises that yes, yes she wants this. What she says is: “I’ve never done this before. If you value your manhood, go slow, or I’ll blast it off.”
Black makes a noise of surprise – fuck you, crap bastard, she thinks in anger, remembering his accusations – before he changes course, kissing down her neck and sucking just below her ear. Severina holds her breath, trying to stop herself from trembling as he pulls down her underwear. It hangs in place, just below where it’s supposed to be and it shocks her when he abruptly kneels down, face pressing to parts only she’s ever touched.
“Black-” she yelps, feeling his arms lock around she backs of her knees. Severina’s world shrinks to them alone as she grips at her falling robes, holding them tight against her chest as something wet makes a stripe up her sex. Inarticulate sounds escape her, a mewl and a breathy whine; that Sirius Black is the one drawing them from her is surreal.
His grip tightens and then- then it really begins. It starts with circles, with intermittent licks and sucking. All her weight is supported by Black’s arms around her bent knees, until she starts sagging, losing her balance; that’s when Black moves one of her legs over his shoulders. One of her hands goes wild, grasping at his thick head of hair. She doesn’t know what she’s doing – only hears an aborted laugh and all that comes with it against her sex, a hand squeezing at her arse before making its way towards her centre.
Strangely, that’s when Severina jerks, almost to get away. A finger traces over her perineum, then pushes into her cunt, a strangeness which Severina focuses on. It wiggles around, finding the small, wet space that a cock is supposed to fill. A shudder runs through her, wondering what it’ll be like. Severina Snape and Sirius Black, joined. It’s anathema to her, just as it is reality. This is really happening, she thinks, dazed as the pressure builds between her legs. Her breathing triples and her hips jerk, another laugh setting her sparking.
“Come on, Snape, give it to me,” she hears Black say, before he wriggles his tongue just the right way and she comes, crying out. Black still has his face pressed to her and Severina tries not to wonder how he’ll react to the mess, the brief surge of panic blanketed by the sated feeling that overtakes her. She slumps and lets Black guide her body to standing, shaking. He presses up against her again, a noticeable pressure against her thigh.
“Is-” she struggles to speak “-is that all you’ve got?”
“Don’t worry,” says Black – and oh, Severina can hear the smugness in his voice as he rolls his hips. The hardness rubs against her thigh, her robes catching on his belt before he draws them up again, tucking them into her own cord around her waist. It leaves her feeling vulnerable, her panties trapping her legs together – until Black leans down to drag them off her, putting Severina off-kilter. In the darkness, Severina can’t tell what he does with them, only feeling his mouth against her lips again.
The situation doesn’t feel as surreal anymore. She might hate him, but the feeling is muted inside her chest. When the kiss ends, he asks her, “You sure you want to go the full way? First times can-”
“Shut up,” Severina hisses, reaching to shuck up his robes. The eagerness in which he helps is disconcerting and a fear causes her to tuck her legs together. But Black is against her, physically lifting her up off the ground. Severina has to grab his shoulders to keep her balance, their bodies sliding together until her chest is against his, legs falling around his hips.
Again, his hand goes wandering, finding her cunt again. He ducks a finger in, then two and Severina feels a certain tightness around her entrance, despite being completely and utterly soaked. “Slow,” Black mutters to himself or maybe to both of them, his head resting in the crook of her neck as he blindly putters around. Severina didn’t expect this – to have him massaging the edges of her, ultra-focused.
But eventually, she becomes impatient. “Black, just do it.”
He mutters back, “You said slow-”
“Just do it, you cretin,” she hisses, grasping at the long hair by her hands. Black hisses back at her – this time in pain.
“You asked for it.” And then he shifts his grip on her, lowering her what seems like too far – and then she feels it, a fleshy hardness pressing up against her. It doesn’t feel like it’ll fit, but Black’s fingers are there, guiding it into her cunt. Severina struggles not to tense, even as he mutters for her to relax. She breathes, high-pitched and confused, feeling a deep, pounding ache as he pushes in and in. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to stop.
“Are you alright?”
Severina doesn’t reply, arms clutching him tighter. Black pauses, then pulls out, pressing back in again – harder than last time. The ache spikes. Black makes a noise – perhaps from his own pleasure – and does it again. The ache spikes again, but this time there’s a new edge to it, something- something like before. Pleasure.
Fucking hell.
He rocks his hips, gently at first, but then says, “Fuck it,” and Severina has to grasp him tighter. Black adjusts his grip and moves, in and out, again and again. Severina lets out a strangled gasp, keening as she feels her own pleasure mounting, up and up. There’s still that ache that doesn’t fade, only getting sharper in tandem with her pleasure, but it numbs somewhat as time goes by.
“Fuck!” she gasps, strangled. She hears Black’s voice beside her ear.
“You’re so fucking tight, Merlin! Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He keeps going. Again, again, again. Severina cries out prematurely, feeling as if a jelly-legs had been cast on her bones, but Black. Keeps. Going.
Another spark starts to build. Severina jerks her hips, trying to keep up with Black’s increasingly fast strides, but just when it starts to get interesting again, Black makes a full-body groan and slows dramatically. For Severina, the sudden appearance of fluids inside her is an unwelcome surprise. That she isn’t getting off again pisses her off.
Black takes a few seconds, murmuring, “Just wait. Give me a second-” and then he’s moving again, hand twisting into place at her front to make those sparks climb higher. Severina gives in, shoving her hips against his and not caring about his opinion of her.
She wants.
“There we go,” he says proudly, after she collapses against him. He’s still half-hard inside her and Severina is tempted to let him finish again, if he wanted; but he draws out of her, wand in hand. The cleaning spells he uses are soft on her skin – made for this, she assumes. Somehow, her arms are still wrapped around his neck. Their animosity has yet to resurface, yet she feels that age-long hate bubbling up under her skin, nonetheless.
His kisses her, pushing down her robes and cradling her face. It’s- it’s soft. Unlike the Black she knows. Almost caring.
Almost.
“How was that for a fuck, Snape?”
And to Severina’s horror, she has no insult to muster. Black grins.
Because he's won.