The Raven and The Snake

Ariadne curled in the tub. She was wracked with tearless sobs while the water poured over her. Antigone was moving around at the bathroom door, hissing and banging against the shield she'd put up. She didn't want Antigone to see her like this.

She felt sick. She was becoming twisted in Voldemort's presence. She hated everything about this. The way she had tortured those people... the horrible molested feeling she got every time her grandfather touched her.

The water had started to turn cold and she still she felt unclean. She turned her wand on herself, chanting. "Scurgify, scurgify, scurgify!"

There was a loud bang and the door to the bathroom flew open. Professor Snape stood in the doorway, having destroyed her spell to keep people out. He strode up to her in long strides and wrenched her up from the tub, not minding her wet, nakedness.

He waved his wand to shut off the water. She was shivering all over so he summoned a towel to wrap around her. He carried her out of the bathroom as she sobbed horribly into a corner of the towel.

When he sat her on her bed and she still didn't stop crying, he grabbed her face with one hand, using too much force. "It's too late to regret your actions, Aria."

She flinched. It wasn't that she simply regretted this. Killing under her grandfather's orders had made her wretch, but she had chosen to be a part of this war. She hated what she had done with every fiber of her being, but the worst part was that she would need to tell him what more Voldemort had ordered of her.

It felt so disgusting she tried to raise her wand back up to her face to use the cleaning spell again. He knocked it from her hand and shoved her down onto the bed so she couldn't even see where it had gone. She stared up at him through bloodshot eyes, a shaking sob still rising in her.

She must have looked horribly pathetic because even the unflappable Snape looked sorry. He helped her sit back up, looking deep into her eyes. His mind touched hers briefly.

Voldemort had done this to her so often she nearly recoiled. But this was Snape, her favorite teacher that had protected her for years. She met his fathomless black eyes and opened her mind to him.

He curled over the side of her bed. He'd gone several shades paler. His lips pressed together like he was trying not to be sick. She shook horribly, disgusted by what had passed.

They stayed together for a long time. He reached out to her after a while and stroked her still dripping hair, brushing it from her face. Unlike Voldemort's, his skin was warm when he touched her. His caress didn't make her want to turn away in disgust.

"We will need to start behaving more intimately in front of him," she said finally. "If I start kissing your cheek or leaning against you, it'll look like I'm following his orders."

His hand paused on her head. He looked at her with tired eyes. "Yes, I'm afraid that will have to do."

Cautiously, Ariadne leaned toward him. She still felt dirty. Too dirty to touch him. She did it anyway. She kissed his cheek.

He didn't shove her away so she continued pressing little kisses to the side of his face, moving down to the curve of his jaw. When she pressed a kiss to his throat he made a small noise and lifted a hand to push her back. She persisted, her tongue flicking to trace over the beating artery just under the skin.

He groaned and pushed her back. She stared up at him pleadingly. He was the only person in the world who could even begin to understand what she going through right now. He was one of her biggest reasons for doing it.

She loved him and every one of her friends at Hogwarts. They were the only family she had left now. She would kill to protect them. She had killed to protect them. If need be, she was going to die to protect them.

He stared hard into her eyes. He didn't love her, not in this way. He'd only ever loved one woman and even now she was still in his head. Her influence was the entire reason he could be considered "good".

Ariadne's hands shot out to wrap him into a hug. It didn't matter to her that he would never feel the same way. She loved him deeply. His undying loyalty was one if his many beautiful attributes that had drawn her to him to begin with. Even if he never showed her any affection, it was worth it for her to keep him safe.

Her kiss started out slow and tentative. It grew more powerful the longer she was pressed to him. She didn't know how it had happened, but she found herself straddling him, her loosely wrapped towel falling away so she pressed against the stiff front of his robes.

Her tongue slipped between his lips. He tastes good.

A moment later her fingers had tangled in his hair. She was kissing him passionately, his breath coming out in a little gasps against her tongue, sending her into a frenzy. She had loved him since the day she saw him and she was now wrapped around him.

How many times had she dreamt of being with him in this intimate way? How many times had she imagined kissing him?

When his hands reached to cup her face, she ground her body against him. He was so warm against her, she didn't even mind the slight chafe of his robe against the bare skin of chest. She was entirely consumed by her desire for him now. When his tongue met hers, she nearly panicked. She broke away from his mouth with a sharp gasp, her body arching against his.

His hands fell away from her face. She looked at him wildly for a moment, her fingers twisting into his straight, charcoal colored hair. She pressed a tiny, experimental kiss to his lips.

Without seeming to decide to do it, he kissed her back. She rocked on his lap, deepening their kiss. The cold of her shower was becoming forgotten, she core heating like she had a flame blazing in her center. She moaned softly into his mouth and felt a shudder run through him.

His large, practiced hands felt a little clumsy as they grasped her waist. She pulled back on his hair, breaking their kiss to tilt his head back. She kissed his throat, tasting his skin on her tongue. He was getting harder underneath her, a soft growl made his throat rumble under her lips.

She dropped one of her hands to tug at his robes, biting down softly on his throat. Agonizingly slowly, he complied with her needs. He had to hold her up with one hand while the other freed himself from his robes.

She was woefully unprepared for what he pressed between her legs. One hand gripped her backside while the other slipped down to feel the slick warmth that even the twins, during their more intimate moments, hadn't tried to reach. Ariadne nearly cried at his touch.

His hands that were so practiced while making potions were trembling awkwardly as he stroked her. Even so, she melted. He was the one that was touching her. Her beloved professor she'd desired for years.

Their lips met again. He teased her for so long that her knees felt like they were about to buckle under her. She was whimpering against his lips, begging him to enter her. At long last he complied.

There was some pain. Not nearly as much as she had feared. He had to break their kiss so he could focus on going slow. He supported her hips, lowering her slowly on him. She held onto his shoulders, her nails digging into the cloth of his cloak.

Ariadne threw her head back with a moan of ecstasy. He was fully inside of her, his fingers pressed hard into the flesh of her hips. She was surely going to die from the pleasure of it. Even if it was just for this moment, he was hers.

He lasted only a couple of seconds more than she did. The moment he began to move she was wracked with pleasure. Completely lost in the euphoria that was his skin against hers. She was screaming for him, begging, craving. Every little motion of his body had her writhing. He could have slapped her and it would have only added to the pleasure of it.

They fell back on the little bed, gasping. She clung to him, desperate to prolong their time together. He allowed it, holding her body against his until she fell asleep with a light murmur of contentment she'd never experienced before.