Severus Snape in the Hogwarts Dorms with Wizarding Pornography Title: The Unicorn Test Author:ratherbrightred Character: Snape Location: Hogwarts dorms Object: Wizarding porn Other Characters: Sirius Black, Lucy (OUC), various others Rating: porny (nc-17) Warnings: Zoophilia. Melancholia. Loneliness. Humor. Word Count:~15k Disclaimer: I don't own the snacky snunicorn. Not for profit. Author's Notes: --Fast & loose w/Mauraders timeline, because, I never really figured some of that stuff out. --I owe it all to the snunicorn shippers, whose dedicated work inspires me in all aspects of life… --Some might find the whole premise of this is very OOC for all involved. But is it crack? I'm not sure. --graciously beta'd by hannahfmuk (LJ).
On one of his many long walks by himself in the Forbidden Forest, Severus Snape befriended a unicorn, whose ethereal presence left him awed, unshakably calm and with a disturbing tightness around the tip of his prick. She was tame, boldly nuzzling around his pockets, the fine hairs around her ears brushing against his hips, leaving a fine silvery dust all over his trousers. This was so upsetting that Snape quickly abandoned his confused arousal in favor of wondering whether or not he would be able to get the glittery unicorn dust off his clothes.
He called her Lucy. She gave herself over to him in very little time at all, revealing all the secrets of her magical anatomy, her sensitive, fleshy horn with bright purple veins throbbing at its base, her pearly, intelligent eyes, her pale white flesh that turned pink around her sparkling, sweet-smelling unicorn bum. Snape knew there was a reason she was being so nice to him, something specific he should remember from his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. Sadly, this was not his best subject, because the class focused less on caring and more on bothering animals. Potions was better. He'd figured out a cunning restorative draught for kittens that had been separated from their mother. Or perhaps he'd taken them. Things were fuzzy sometimes, so strong was his desire to keep warm soft creatures close to his person at night.
After many furtive visits in the forest, each leaving Snape more flustered and confused about his species identity, Lucy started venturing closer and closer to Hogwarts. He really shouldn't have been surprised by what happened next, given her increasing bravery.
One Monday, shortly after being nearly killed by Lupin the werewolf--he knew Lupin was a werewolf, of course, he was just confirming--he cautiously approached his Care of Magical Creatures class. As usual, he was dreading Kettleburn's heavy handed approach to the subject. He tried to make himself inconspicuous behind a knot of big Slytherins, and thought he had succeeded until he caught sight of his unicorn happily munching on a pile of hay.
"What can you tell me about unicorns, class?" Kettleburn asked. Snape shrank back against the fence as Lucy noticed him and her ears perked up.
"Only a virgin can ride a unicorn," someone offered, leading to a round of snickering and suspicious glances at Kettleburn. Snape's ears grew hot, and possibly red. He adjusted his hair, subtly pushing his face into the fencepost. Yes, that was what he should have remembered.
"That's certainly true. Anything else?"
"Unicorns like chocolate," Lily said, holding out a piece and smiling as Lucy daintily nipped it from her palm before nosing her way through the crowd and gently parting Snape's knot of big Slytherins. Severus sighed. He'd really cocked it up with Lily. She was so beautiful, and such a good, nice, kind person. While he was looking at Lily, contemplating the way the light caught her gorgeous auburn hair, Lucy made her happy horsey sounds, nosing around in his pockets and giving his cheek a sloppy swipe with her tongue. Severus relinquished the carrots he'd thought to bring, trying to tune out the whispers and snorts that reached his ears.
"She seems to know you," Kettleburn said, sharp as a tack. Severus nodded, petting her nose and praying that Lucy wouldn't offer him a ride. Fulfilling his secret fears and desires, like always, she knelt down and wiggled around, flicking her tail over her back and making a soft whining noise when Severus didn't respond. He preferred to clutch the fence with white knuckles, trying to control his breathing. Her tail was amazing. Almost as nice as Lily's hair. Lucy wriggled over closer to him.
"Aw, come on, Snivellus! She wants to give you a ride!" That was Potter, Severus knew it. More students joined in, making progressively lewder comments about barebacking, which Severus didn't fully comprehend. He decided that riding off into the sunset with Lucy was heaps better than enduring his present situation. Even Slytherins were participating, and rather actively, he couldn't help but notice. With a weary sigh and an unintentional flourish of his school robes, Severus climbed on and whispered "Far, far away," before disappearing into the forest.
Eventually Kettleburn returned the group to some semblance of order, deciding to speak on Snape's behalf in an effort to counter the damage that had already been done. "You know, Severus is brilliant with animals, magical and otherwise," he began, sharing a story about an orphaned puppy he had all but given up on before Severus showed him a nifty trick involving a Muggle baby bottle. While many of the girls responded positively to this, most of the boys found their suspicions about Severus confirmed, howling with laughter at the very idea that someone as foul-tempered and generally loathsome as Snape could nurse a puppy back to health with a rubber nipple. Everyone was laughing except for one Sirius Black, who looked very thoughtful as the lesson continued. James had to elbow him in the ribs when he failed to respond to a question about the mating habits of mugwumps.
"Sirius, what's so important?" James asked. He kept an eye out for Snivellus, who could very well come galloping along and lance them both on his unicorn's horn. He winced, imagining an embarrassing parade around the school, trussed up like a shish-kebob.
"It's Snape," Sirius murmured, worrying a stray lock of shaggy split hair between his nervous fingers.
"What's Snape? Besides a unicorn-loving poof."
"No, I mean, I'm thinking about Snape. I feel bad, you know," he said quietly, slumping over the lunch table and staring at a leg of chicken as if it contained the answers to all of life's questions.
"About the Shack?" asked Lupin, who also felt bad about the Shrieking Shack. He had apologized profusely, feeling real pangs of sorrow when Snape's only response was a sharp jerk away from his touch, his eyes wide with fear, or possibly disdain. It was hard to tell with Snape.
"Yeah…" Sirius sighed. "I was thinking about what Kettleburn said, about the kittens and the rubber nipples and all that."
James made a face. "Rubber nipples!" he muttered.
"If he's so good with animals, maybe Padfoot could, I dunno, make amends, or somehow at least…assess the situation."
"But he wouldn't know it was you, so how would you be making amends? And anyway, you hate the greasy poof, so who bloody cares?" James sighed, a bit frustrated with Sirius and his strong ambivalence toward Snape, who was certainly brilliant to poke fun of, but really needn't be endangered.
"Well, even if he didn't know..." Sirius shrugged.
"So you think if Padfoot can manage to be nice to him, you'll feel better about what happened?"
"Listen, logic was never my strong suit, but it just feels right."
Racing through the forest was much more diverting than listening to his classmates make asinine comments about his virginity. Eventually Lucy slowed to a walk, pausing to nibble on plants and flowers. Severus found himself talking with her, as he often did, murmuring his hopes and fears in her delicate pink ears. She seemed supportive, even producing the occasional listening noise: a grunt or a soft neigh of appreciation.
At last it was time to return to Hogwarts. He instructed Lucy to stay away from the edges of the forest if she didn't want to be a special exhibit in their next Care of Magical Creatures class. He hoped she understood; he thought she must have done, especially because she lingered back behind the smaller trees, watching him walk away with baleful, big eyes. Severus stopped twice before his inevitable descent into the dank dark Slytherin dorms, first sitting on a sunny boulder, and then perching in the window of a ruined bit of outlying castle. He was watching a distant squirrel make its way up the trunk of a tree when a good sized black dog appeared in front of him, wagging his tail so aggressively that his whole body swayed back and forth.
He slid down to pet the dog, smiling. Snape was positively transformed when he smiled. His harsh features softened and his eyes lit up, twinkling almost as vividly as Dumbledore's. Sirius melted under Snape's touch, rolling onto his back and wriggling his belly until he felt his long fingers tickling his ribs. Snape's other hand deftly fished his collar out of his fur. "Padfoot," he said, smiling again. Padfoot sat up and eagerly braced his paws on Snape's shoulders, nosing around in his hair and sniffing at his neck. "You look like you could use a bath," Snape murmured, bending down and picking through Padfoot's thick, unruly fur. He was rather muddy after a thrilling squirrel chase. "Come on then," Snape shot him another one of those killer smiles and Padfoot bounded after him.
Padfoot nosed around the Slytherin dorm while Severus pulled off his robe, holding it up in front of him and cleaning it with a brush. Sirius felt sad looking at Snape's two robes and two shirts. There appeared to be a set of outmoded dress robes in the back, and a collection of grey, dingy underclothes was piled beside an old-fashioned pair of scuffed boots. The rest of the wardrobe was full of books and a stack of three cauldrons, which looked much finer than Snape's clothes. Sirius followed Snape into the washroom, where he had commandeered a corner for his animals. He was dressed in a threadbare undershirt and a pair of trousers that might have once been black; as it was they were six inches too short, grey, stained, and sported several holes around the knees.
Padfoot surrendered to the bath absolutely. Snape knew just what to do. He let his feet soak in warm water while he brushed him and checked diligently for fleas, then those long clever fingers went to work with a very pleasant smelling shampoo. After shaking himself off and luxuriating in one of the soft Hogwarts towels for several minutes, Padfoot let out a joyful bark as Snape pilfered Lucius Malfoy's expensive nail clippers and went to work on his feet, perfectly, skillfully, steadily trimming his nails. He had never had a better bath, as man or beast.
"You must belong to someone," Snape said, fingering his collar as he slipped it back over his head. "Does your family live in town? Do they miss you?" Padfoot wagged his tail in response. "Well, you can stay with me tonight, because it's late, but tomorrow, I'm going to let you outside before class and hope you find your way home." Snape ignored his roommates' snide remarks about unicorns, kittens, and rubber nipples, hunching over his collection of shoeboxes and stroking the soft feathered head of a white bird. When he was satisfied his small animal hospital was taken care of, he retreated behind his bed curtains and pulled out his school books, working diligently while Padfoot allowed Snape's bare bony foot to tickle his appreciative stomach.
He started lapping at the underside of Snape's foot, pleased to feel his muscles go slack. Snape yawned, peering out of his bed curtains cautiously. He evidently felt it was safe to emerge and, Sirius presumed, change into his pajamas. He heard the distant flush of a Hogwarts toilet, then Snape climbed back in bed, shrugged off his bathrobe, and slid under the blankets. Sirius wished he was cat, then he could have pretended it was a hairball, but he ended up making a strange, strangled dog noise, prompting Snape to crawl down to the foot of the bed and stroke his throat, murmuring soothing things until Padfoot had stopped hyperventilating. He was in bed with Snape, and Snape was naked! Snape slept naked! Snape was naked right now, his soft but impressive cock a scant yard from Padfoot's innocent dog nose! "Are you better?" Snape asked, experimentally tickling Padfoot's ribs. "Good." He settled back under the sheets, to Sirius's simultaneous relief and disappointment, and lifted the edge. "Do you like to go under the blankets?" Padfoot nosed his way under the duvet, curling up against the back of Snape's legs. He wished he was his human self; he felt a strong compulsion to look at Snape, really look at him, and touch all that pale, smooth skin with his hands, not his paws. He contented himself with a choice sniff around Snape's arse before curling up beside him and falling asleep.
True to his word, Snape took Padfoot to the Hogsmeade road at daybreak and said goodbye, offering him a juicy bone he'd withheld the night before. Severus watched the dog lope away and sighed, sure that Padfoot was familiar to him. He hadn't realized it until that morning, but something was very queer about the dog, as if someone else's eyes were watching him when Padfoot met his gaze. Snape turned back to the castle and went to breakfast, not noticing when Sirius Black walked in, leaves clinging to his hair. Sirius stopped in front of Snape and grinned at him, grinning wider when Snape glared at him and looked away.
"Black, stop it," James hissed, grabbing his elbow and dragging him to their table. "And what happened to your hair?" James flicked his wand over Sirius's head, physically turning him away from Snape, who was calmly eating the only vegetarian breakfast option, porridge with fruit.
"Boys, I think I'm in love," Sirius said loudly, eyes wide, pupils dilated. Raw meat did that to Padfoot, and he carried the frantic thrill of gnawing at soft, chewy marrow back into his human form.
"With Snivellus?"
"Yes. Snivellus. Kettleburn wasn't kidding, he is brilliant with animals. He has a whole collection of injured birds living in shoe boxes in his nightstand. It was all I could do not to eat the lot. And he gave me the best bath ever. And he knows all my favorite places to go for a walk. And he saved me the best bones from the kitchen, and he scratches my belly so well, and he used Malfoy's nail clippers to trim my nails, and he--"
"Right, we get the idea. Good with dogs. But, Black, you're not a dog. I mean, you're only a dog sometimes."
"Yeah, what about when you're not Padfoot? Think he'd still give you a bath?"
"I'm working on that," Sirius replied, still staring at Snape.
"You're barmy, is what you are," James muttered, spearing a sausage and rolling his eyes. "I thought you slept with other dogs," he said slowly, emphasizing "thought" and "dogs." "I should add that there are not very many eligible does just wandering about, unclaimed, feral, picking through rubbish, or wherever you find these one night stands. So you should be happy with your lot, and don't go mixing it up like this."
Pettigrew snorted. "As if Lily hasn't begged you for stag prick," he muttered.
Lupin made a face. Peter could be coarse.
"I'll have you know that Padfoot only beds the cleanest domestic types, poodles, bijons, small, fluffy like, well-groomed."
"And Snape fits into those criteria how?"
Sirius blushed.
"Still working on that?"
"Yeah."
"You obviously have a thing for rubber nipples," James concluded, grabbing his friend by the nape of his neck and wrenching Black's gaze away from Snape's stooped, sullen form. Even two tables away, James could sense Snape plotting something, some sort of counter attack to prematurely ward off whatever he thought Sirius was planning. James sighed, feeling a flash of sympathy for Snape. When Padfoot wanted something, he got it. James should know, because Padfoot had eaten or slobbered on every material thing he held dear, and had been caught not once but three times nosing around his arse in a questing sort of way.
The following three weeks were surreal for the Marauders, but even stranger for Severus, who was unused to being pursued by anyone at all, least of all by people he interpreted as enemies. The last straw was when he found Sirius sprawled out over the bench he typically occupied in the library, the one in the corner where the fewest spitballs could hit him. Sirius had a rose clutched in his fist and a hungry look in his eyes.
"You're ridiculous," Severus snapped, snatching the rose away and pushing Black's legs to the floor so he could sit down. Sirius decided he must be making progress, because Snape carefully laid the rose down beside his books, stroking its petals with his fingertips as he glared at Sirius. "What's gotten into you? You feel badly about the Shrieking Shack. I understand, I really do, I mean, apology accepted, all right? Just stop…doing this…whatever it is. What could you possibly want from me?"
"I want you to give me a bath," Sirius said calmly. Snape recoiled in horror, pricking his finger on the rose's woody stalk. He brought it to his mouth and sucked on it, staring at Sirius incredulously. "I can't get my mind off you, I think about you all the time, about the Quidditch bleachers, and the bone, and Malfoy's nail clippers--"
"What? Bleachers? You're not even making sense, Black!" Severus poked his finger back in his mouth, seriously contemplating some sort of intervention for Black, who had obviously lost his mind. He could probably get Potter and Lupin and Pettigrew to help him stage it. He imagined they were very concerned for their friend. Snape hated Black and he was concerned. Maybe if they all approached him in his dorm room, somewhere safe and familiar, and if he wasn't cooperative, Severus knew Madame Pomfrey had a straight jacket in the storage room. While he was thinking about how to best conceal the straight jacket so Black didn't suspect anything, Sirius had grabbed his hand and inhaled his finger, sucking on it obscenely, his cheeks hollowed out and his lips moving over his knuckle to caress that tiny piece of flesh between his fingers. He released it with a wet popping sound. Snape wiped it on his robe and stared at Black, who was clearly barking mad.
"I researched the unicorn, Snape, and I learned that only the very purest of virgins can ride a unicorn. Only the most untouched, unspoilt, perfect, lily-white virgins can even mount them. I bet you've never been kissed, you great greasy git." Severus was determined not to respond, but Sirius had him immobilized, mostly with shock, but also because he was pressed into the table, and he found himself reluctantly hardening as Sirius pushed against him. "That's it," Sirius whispered, sucking Severus's reluctant and clammy earlobe into his mouth.
"No!" Snape squeaked, impressed he found his voice at all. "Please, you have to stop--"
"Just give me a bath, and I'll leave you alone."
"I will not!" Snape managed to wriggle out of Black's arms and slide down the table, grabbing his books, and after only a second of hesitation, the rose, before storming out of the library, his robes billowing around him and hiding what Sirius knew to be a substantial, painfully hard cock. Sirius leapt up and buried himself deep in the stacks before emerging as Padfoot. Snape had to bring himself off--he would just have to, wouldn't he? Maybe Padfoot could bear witness to this extraordinary event if he played his cards right.
He caught up with Snape in an excellent spot, quite close to the main entrance of the castle, as if he'd innocently wandered in. He immediately started wagging his tail and Severus dropped to his knees and scratched him behind his ears, murmuring his surprise at seeing him again.
"Have you been a good dog?" Snape asked, smiling when Padfoot sniffed his face and licked his nose. "Yes, you have, haven't you? Come along, then, let's go put this stupid rose away." He followed Snape to his dorm and watched him hold the rose at arm's length and cast a preservation charm on it. "Stupid rose. Stupid Sirius Black," he muttered, staring at the rose and sighing before picking up his penknife and trimming the thorns away. "Barmy poofter fuck," he added for good measure, even as he ran the tip of his finger over the soft rose petals and brought the flower to his nose. Padfoot sniffed alongside him, quickly turning his attention to Snape's soft, smooth cheek, which he nuzzled and licked affectionately.
In truth, Severus had never considered his sexual orientation. He knew he was unattractive in several key ways, and he rarely found anyone else attractive, except some of the more graceful owls, and his unicorn, and maybe Lily, but his friendship with her was in serious jeopardy after the mudblood incident. Well, his friendship with her was over, but he hadn't yet admitted defeat. More than a few of his housemates had decided he was queer, and they were very vocal about expressing this, calling him names he frankly didn't understand most of the time. Maybe Sirius Black knew something he didn't. He had gotten hard, after all. But who wouldn't have done? And the rose was rather striking, really.
"Padfoot," Severus said with a sigh, "What should I do about Black?"
Padfoot responded by looking very excited and pleased, wagging his tail and pawing Severus' arm rather urgently.
"So you think I should…do…whatever…one…does?" Severus bit his lip, letting Padfoot wrap his enormous jaw around his elbow and squeeze him affectionately. Eventually he shook Padfoot off and slipped out of his room, creeping down the hall very quietly. Padfoot watched as he knelt beside one of the beds, opened the trunk sitting there, and pilfered a book from its interior. Snape had seen Lucius showing this big fat book to his friend Godfrey, and they'd hid it away in the trunk as he approached, as if Severus was a big baby who couldn't understand these things. He hurried back to his room, where he pulled the bed curtains closed. Padfoot wasn't a very good reader, so he had to wait for a shocked gasp from Severus before he realized what sort of book he was reading. "'Wizards often enjoy the pleasures of…anal…intercourse," he whispered, his eyes wide. He pulled at the skin over his knuckle nervously, peering down at the book in the dim candlelight. "Lucius, you bloody pervert," he added, turning the page. "Oh dear," he said, turning another page. Padfoot thumped his tail when Snape's long, thin fingers moved to cover his crotch, just lightly, as if unconsciously.
One of the benefits of being an animagus was that Sirius had an incredible amount of sex from a very early age. The very first day he'd transformed he'd found a willing bitch and shagged her rotten. And yes, she'd been nosing about the bins behind the local pub. All this dog sex gave his human self a certain allure, or so he liked to think, but it also gave Padfoot the controversial habit of expressing himself amorously regardless of his company. Which was the only explanation Sirius had for what Padfoot did next.
"Padfoot!" Snape screeched, his voice high and quavering. "No! Stop it stop it! You're as barmy as bloody Black! Get out, then! Go on, go home, you daft dog, and take that stiffy with you!" Snape shooed him out of the dorm, slapping his rump and sending him down the hall away from the dorm. As soon as he turned the corner, Sirius returned to himself and pressed his flushed cheek against the cool dungeon wall. He felt a mixture of shame, desire, and a deep deep longing to still be Padfoot, joyfully humping Snape's bony hipbone.
Snape was shattered, overstimulated beyond belief. Between Padfoot and his knobby dog prick, Malfoy's dirty sex book, and Black's earlier advances, Severus had never been exposed to so much debauchery in such a short amount of time. Even Padfoot and his departure had not dissuaded his cock from pushing against his trousers, which were honestly a tad on the small side, but had never felt this constricting before. Snape pulled the curtains shut around his bed and for the first time in his life, concentrated his entire attention on masturbating.
Of course, he couldn't properly focus without a book handy, so he returned to A Wizard's Guide to Illicit and Conventional Pleasures and flipped back to the part he'd been skimming before Padfoot jumped his bones. "Wizards often enjoy the sensation of anal intercourse," he repeated, whispering and following along with a shaking finger. "Many find that orgasms are infinitely more intense with the addition of prostate stimulation." Snape pursed his lips, flipping around and finding a small illustration. Meanwhile, his free hand had somehow found its way between his legs again, undoing his trousers and pushing his pants around his hips. He paused and groped around for his wand, casting a silencing spell around his bed before pulling his shoes off and leaning over the book, biting his lip. He would need lubrication. The book recommended some complicated potions he didn't have time for, and suggested hand lotion or olive oil in a pinch.
"Bloody hell," Severus whispered, never having realized how complex this was. He had never properly brought himself off. He had orgasms, but never consciously; usually they were the product of a hazy dream, and it had taken him ages to connect that white goo with his prick. The first time he thought an unhealthy bird had shat on him. Yet here he was rifling through the cupboard in the headboard of his bed, desperately looking for hand cream, which he found, his mother's special recipe, in a squat little jar.
The book seemed to emphasize the prostate, not really going into much detail about what else one was supposed to do. Snape decided he should focus on whatever the book focused on, because in his experience, books were usually right. It took him a few minutes to work out how to best approach his bum. He tried sliding his hand down the small of his back, gumming up his shirt tails with lotion, but his finger, once inside--and was that ever a strange, unnatural feeling--didn't connect with the proper place. And it felt a bit dirty and slippery and invasive. The book suggested consciously relaxing and visualizing something called the sphincter. Snape rolled his eyes. What the bloody hell was that? At times like this, he wished he had the sort of parents who had given him some kind of talk. Sirius, he imagined, had those sort of parents. His brother Regulus seemed very confident between the sheets, and Sirius, of course, had surpassed confidence and was hurdling into the realm of the psychopathic and criminal, at least where Snape was concerned. Lucius also clearly had someone on his side; that he owned this book meant that someone, somewhere, had clued him in about a thing or two.
Snape spelled the book so it floated in a convenient place and kicked his knees up in order to better manage his fingering efforts. Although he knew very well he was unattractive, terribly skinny, and generally unappealing, Severus had been blessed with flexibility and agility, neither of which had led him in any logical direction (Quidditch, for example) but both of which came in quite handy at the moment. With his knees up in his armpits and his feet dangling limp in the darkness above him, he managed to push two fingers far enough inside that he could understand the general idea. He squinted at the diagram again and angled his fingers up, twisting his hand around and gasping as his wrist pushed against his balls. He wriggled around a little more and bit his lip, his eyes widening as he arched his back and felt what surely must be the mythical prostate. "Oh!" he squeaked, experimentally moving his fingers, his other hand clapping over his mouth to shut himself up. Snape never fully trusted silencing spells. He could hear everyone else after casting the spell, and he couldn't quite believe that nobody could hear him.
He let his fingers slip into his mouth, sucking his fingertips and pushing his tongue against his nails while he pushed his other fingers even further into the mysterious recesses of his arse. Illicit and conventional pleasures indeed! This was surely one of the illicit ones. His cock wanted something of him; it felt hot and twitchy and strange, but he didn't dare unplug his mouth or he knew the small little noises he was keeping at bay in the back of his throat would erupt into something loud and unholy.
After experimenting with a few different movements and pressures, he arrived at the ideal sensation, his fingers alternately pushing against and circling around the sensitive part inside his bum. He'd have to thank Lucius somehow. Maybe he'd like a bird, or a turtle, or perhaps a flower. Maybe he could regift that one from Black. Lucy would probably appreciate it more. He ought to let her eat it. Her soft, pink lips would gently suck on the petals. She had such a beautiful mouth. This train of thought collapsed as he realized, to his amazement and horror, that he was coming; he was quivering and shaking and his traitorous cock, without his permission and in a very messy fashion, was squirting all over his stomach and his shirtfront. His complete ignorance of his own sexual mechanics and masturbation in general meant that he didn't quite grasp how unusual this was, that he had brought himself off without touching his prick. Severus sighed, relaxing back into the mattress and letting his legs sprawl across the bed, one of his long, pale feet poking free of the curtains. He closed Malfoy's book gently after inspecting it for errant ejaculate, deciding to keep it another night and see what else it might teach him.
Somehow Severus managed to pull his clothes off and ooze under the blankets before falling into a deep, sticky sleep. He missed dinner, breakfast, and nearly missed his first class, but for his roommate, a horrible boy named Nigel, chucking one of his shoes through the curtains. It connected with his cheekbone and he scrambled out from under the covers, fumbling for his wand and pointing it at the shoe before realizing what had happened.
"Wake up, you kitten loving chutney ferret," Nigel added, kicking the bedframe for good measure. "Chutney ferret" was precisely the sort of expression Severus never understood. He sensed that by coupling it with "kitten loving" Nigel was attempting to impugn his masculinity, but really, chutney ferret? What could that possibly mean? He didn't even like Indian food very much.
Severus waited until he thought Nigel was gone before hauling his legs over the side of the bed and peering out into the gloomy Slytherin dorm. He pulled on clean clothes, wishing he had time to wash properly, and crouched down to sort out his menagerie. The birds needed feeding, but the snake didn't, and the turtle needed more water. These tasks accomplished, he gathered up his books and prepared to sprint to class.
That was when he glanced at the rose, made a small choking sound, and collapsed, knocking his head against the turtle's glass bowl.
When he came to, Severus was in the infirmary, a bandage covering his forehead, and a painful, tender sensation was spreading out over his cheek as he regained consciousness.
Madame Pomfrey went from fuzzy to focused entirely too quickly. "Do you remember what happened, Severus? It appears that you fell over, hit your head, and bit your tongue on the way down."
Severus nodded. That sounded about right.
"You'll have a bit of a bruise for another day or two, nothing I can do since I couldn't tend to you right away. Any idea what prompted this?"
"Sirius Black is a dog named Padfoot," Severus said, his voice clear if a bit unsteady.
"Yes, dear, and he's due for his flea medicine this week, thank you for reminding me."
"No, you don't understand--Sirius Black is a dog named Padfoot!"
"Yes, dear. How about a bit of a lie down, and then I think you can manage your afternoon classes. Would you like some tea?"
Severus drank his tea, contemplating his options. Sirius Black was a dog named Padfoot. Looking at the rose, his mind rested yet still addled from bum fondling, he realized that Padfoot looked familiar because he was familiar--all of Black's inane comments about the bleachers and the nail clippers snapped into focus. Padfoot had been so overexcited about Severus asking him what to do about Sirius because Padfoot was Sirius! This also explained Snape's strangely open demeanor around Black. Sirius was the most cruel of the Marauders because he had the most access; Snape just couldn't keep his guard up around him. He loved his animal aspect too dearly. It was a relief to know why, but a troublesome situation nonetheless. Severus slurped the last of his tea, watching the cup slowly fill without his intervention. Madame Pomfrey had some very nice things here in the infirmary. He would love to manage a similar facility for kittens and birds and puppies. He could call it Kitten Loving Chutney Ferret's Hospital for Animals.
Wrenching himself away from his philanthropic ambitions, Severus focused on the task at hand. He would see Sirius soon, that very afternoon in fact. Furthermore, and infinitely more distressingly, winter holidays were approaching, and Snape and Sirius were usually among the small and pathetic group of students left behind at Hogwarts. This had been very awkward last year. Part of the time, Sirius had gone to stay with James, but the other part of the time, he shared a dormitory room in Gryffindor with Snape. They consolidated all the strays into a single dorm, and it had been Gryffindor's turn that year. This year he hoped two things: that Black would go to Potter's house the whole time, and that the holiday dorm would be Ravenclaw, as they had a fantastic library.
The year before, Severus had woken up to some kind of practical joke nearly every morning. His hair was spelled into curly ringlets, he'd acquired large purple pimples all over his face, his feet were permanently attached to a pair of ridiculous bunny rabbit slippers, and, most horrible of all, Sirius gave him a Christmas present. He was at Potter's house by the time Severus was forced to open it (the box started wishing him happy Christmas at increasingly annoying intervals until he gave in and pulled off the wrapping). The gift was the worst part of the whole thing because it was a completely normal gift, and Severus was even grateful for it. This was deeply unsettling. He felt that he was somehow in Black's debt, and it had taken him several hours of diagnostic spell casting to determine that there was nothing wrong with the beautiful glass cauldron. It was small and shiny and perfect, with the Black family crest on the bottom. Sirius had evidently nicked it from home. Regardless, it had to be several hundred years old, and it was a brilliant cauldron.
But back to more immediate concerns. What should he do about Padfoot? Should he let on that he knew? Should he pretend he had no idea? Would he even be able to do that? Should he turn into a cat person?
Severus didn't end up having a choice in the matter. As he was watching his tea cup fill up a third time and wondering if it would be wise to stop drinking tea lest he piss rivers for the rest of the afternoon, Sirius charged into the infirmary and sat confidently on Snape's bed, as if he had every right to do so.
"Remove yourself from my bed, Black," Snape said demurely, relaxed from his tea.
"I don't bloody think so. What did that little shit Nigel do to you?"
"Since when do you care? I don't even know what he meant."
"Meant by what? He fucked up your face! You know, you're not winning any beauty contests as it is, you should at least try and keep yourself more or less intact."
"Oh, no, he didn't--no, I just fell over and hit myself--"
"Right, that's what my mum says too." Sirius rolled his eyes. Snape again felt in over his head.
"Nigel didn't do this, he just called me a kitten loving chutney ferret," Snape said, once again unable to avoid absolute honesty around Sirius. His love of dogs, even inner dogs, was making it difficult for Severus to dissimulate.
Sirius snorted, turning his face away, then looked briefly at Snape before erupting into full on laughter. "Kitten loving chutney ferret!" he gasped.
"What's it mean?" Snape asked, wide-eyed and curious. Sirius laughed even harder at his expression. Snape acted like he was bloody five years old sometimes.
"Means you're a queer, Snivellus."
"Kitten loving?"
"No, chutney ferret. But kitten loving pretty much means you're queer too. So you're double queer, I guess. Nigel didn't hurt you?"
Snape shook his head, wondering why Sirius was acting so familiar with him. Maybe his life as Padfoot had seeped into his human interactions.
This was precisely what had happened, in fact. Padfoot had done what Sirius had hoped, and allowed him to feel comfortable around Snape despite his consuming guilt over the Shrieking Shack incident.
"I know about you," Severus said quietly.
"What? That I'm a chutney ferret too? Don't like cats much, though, sorry, mate--"
"No, you idiot, I know about Padfoot."
Black sobered up a bit, sitting up straighter and peering into Snape's dark eyes.
"And?"
"Nothing, I just know."
"When did you realize?
"This morning."
"What…how?"
Snape shrugged.
"Listen, Padfoot really likes you."
Severus found it odd that Sirius spoke of Padfoot in the third person, but he decided against asking about it; there were bigger issues at stake. "What were you hoping to accomplish?"
"Nothing, I just…" Black's hand slipped casually over Snape's leg, gently squeezing his bony knee before inching higher and stroking the inside of his thigh through his trousers. "I felt bad about the Shrieking Shack and I wanted things to be like they were before. Because in some barmy way you were always very happy around me, like you trusted me, even when I was being a right git, and I know I didn't deserve it and didn't treat you well in return, but--"
"Black, stop talking. You sound like a girl. A kitten loving girl."
"Are you staying here over hols?"
"And take your hand off my leg."
"Well, are you?"
"Yes, of course I am," Snape snapped. "Where would I go?"
"It's in Ravenclaw this year."
"Take your hand off my leg."
"Snivellus, you're absolutely brilliant with animals. May I have some tea? Thanks, mate," Sirius grabbed the tea before even asking the question, taking a sip and passing the cup back. "I mean, that bath, that was smashing, just brilliant, first class, with the foot soaking and the combing--"
"Sirius Black! Padfoot needs to take his flea medicine," Pomfrey said, parting the curtains and bustling Sirius out of the room. "And you may go to class, Severus, if you feel up to it," she added, looking over her shoulder at Snape, who blushed furiously. How much had she heard? Bloody hell. He climbed out of bed and quietly made his way back to his dorm to collect his books. The rose glared at him. He picked it up and pressed it to his nose, looking furtively around his empty room. It was a wonderful rose. Clear, strong smell, and big, too, with red petals that went a bit orange at the bottom. He sighed, carefully returning it to his dresser. He supposed he should return A Wizard's Guide to Conventional and Illicit Pleasures as well. This was the perfect opportunity with everyone else away.
Snape lingered a bit looking through Malfoy's trunk. He had such nice things. Extra jumpers, store-bought instead of homemade and lumpy, and even a fancy shaving kit with the Malfoy coat of arms on the front. Severus rolled his eyes at that, but was still envious of the soft leather case, and of shaving in general. Everything looked new and shiny and magnificent, even the trunk itself. Snape's own trunk belonged to his father, wasn't even magical, and he'd had to repair it twice. He settled the book back where he found it, underneath a stack of dirty magazines featuring huge breasts. They were slowly jiggling and rippling in the wizarding photographs, but the women ignored him completely, one of them even squatting and smoking a cigarette after glancing at him dismissively. Could wizarding porn detect one's sexual preferences? Snape sighed.
At least the holiday dorm would be Ravenclaw. He was mildly excited about that, even if it did sound like Black would be in attendance. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Clearly he felt terrible about the Shack incident. He'd gone to great lengths to redeem himself, and his latest entreaty sounded like something from a sub par romantic comedy. Snape carefully closed Malfoy's trunk and wandered off to see if there was any lunch left before Potions. He liked Potions, was superb at it, if he did say so himself, and Lily would be there. He could stare at her from afar, at least until she noticed.
The class ended up being one of those useless classes where they were supposed to brew something on their own. Severus was done in the first ten minutes, after which time he poked around in his textbook, scribbling little notes and doodles all over the pages. When he bought it the book was already a bit naff and used, and smelled funny besides, so he didn't feel bad about writing all over it. Anyway, his notes were much more intelligent than the text itself.
Lily was sitting nearby, whispering with her friend Alice about some sort of personal problem, and Alice was murmuring supportive noises, but not really paying attention. She deserved friends who focused on her every word, as Snape would do if she would only talk to him. He was writing a few thoughts in the margin about how willow bark might intervene in lycanthropic transformations when he head Lily say something just slightly louder, loud enough that he could hear.
"So what do you think, Alice? Should I meet the Potters over the hols?"
"Doesn't Sirius usually stay with them? Won't it be a bit, you know, odd, hanging about with those boys?"
"Sirius says he plans to stay here." She shrugged. Severus cursed his very existence. Of course Black was staying here.
"Really, Alice, what should I do?"
Alice shrugged. Snape drew a pair of fangs around the page number in his book, letting his attention shift from what Lily was saying to the sound of her voice. She would be so much better off with me, Severus thought sadly. They could open the Kitten Loving Chutney Ferret Animal Hospital together, they could invent new potions and have an owl post business, they could have children, two of them so they could play together, and they could buy them fancy shaving kits like Malfoy's, and give them sex talks whenever they wanted them, except that Severus didn't know what he would say, but he could figure that out later. And he wasn't entirely clear on how one even succeeded in making girls interested in having sex, let alone talking about it, and he was probably a raging homosexual if Nigel and the porn magazines had anything to say about it, but these were all hurdles that could be negotiated at a future date.
All too quickly, Potions was over, leaving Severus to shuffle back to his dorm and continue doodling wolf teeth all over his textbook, feeling melancholy about Lily and his prospects more generally. He had very few friends, his family was awful and didn't want to pay his train fare home for the holidays, Lily was not as interested in him as she might have once been, and Sirius Black was vacillating between wanting to kill him and shag him silly. His situation was becoming desperate. Lucius and that creepy lot were looking more and more attractive. His school work was also looking more and more attractive. Maybe he could work on that werewolf potion idea a little more. If Lupin had something like that, he'd certainly sleep better when the moon was full.
Severus resumed his long walks in the Forbidden Forest, hoping he would see Lucy. Hogsmeade weekend meant he could spend extra time walking around looking for her--he only rarely went to Hogsmeade. He never had any money, so he didn't see the point.
Snape sighed, the leaves crunching underfoot. Lucy was nowhere in evidence. He hadn't even seen any injured birds or abandoned baby centaurs. Snape sat down on a mossy log and tucked his knees under his chin, his shoes hooked into a chunk of bark. What if Lucy wouldn't see him anymore? What if the bum fondling and Sirius and his dreadful attempt to seduce him in the library meant that he was no longer someone Lucy would consider a friend? Just as he'd worked himself into a panicked frenzy about the whole situation, a flash of white caught the corner of his eye and he turned to see Lucy ambling toward him, sniffing around his hair and accepting the carrots he'd brought her.
"Am I--" Snape stuttered a bit, not sure what to ask. Lucy looked at him placidly. "Am I still--um--will I…will it be all right?"
She snorted, but in a nice way, and nuzzled her nose into his neck, sinking to the ground and pulling at his necktie with her teeth until he sat beside her, eventually leaning against her. He could hear her heart beating through the soft, translucent skin of her belly; he let his lips part just enough to taste her skin on his tongue, then part further as he fell into a deep sleep. He woke up hours later, when the dark forest was even darker than usual, and kissed Lucy's wide, friendly forehead before she rose gracefully to her feet and prodded the small of his back with her nose, pushing him back toward Hogwarts. He felt the tip of her horn graze his shoulder as he moved away from her.
He was most of the way back before he realized she hadn't offered him a ride, just a cuddle. She always offered him a ride. From that very first day when they hardly knew each other, she'd offered him a ride. He worried one of his knuckles with his teeth, glancing back at the forest before making his way to the dining room. He always walked quickly, with a strong sense of purpose, because usually people made fewer horrible remarks that way. On this particular occasion everyone must have been catatonic from their day of guzzling butterbeer, such was their absolute silence. If only Snape had realized that he was covered from head to toe in glittery unicorn dust.
Severus spent the rest of the term improving Wolfsbane. He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing it. Lupin had, after all, tried to kill him. When he stopped and thought about it, he concluded that the Shrieking Shack incident could have been avoided entirely had Remus taken chemical precautions, and if he had been taking a potion, it was clearly ineffective. Severus recognized that he was spending hours on Wolfsbane in an active attempt to avoid the rest of his life, such as it was. Black continued to pursue him, cornering him in the halls and leaving strange gifts in the pockets of his cloak, including a mysterious mushroom (Severus kept it in a jar), a joint (Severus smoked it, stayed up late eating chocolate frogs from his roommate's care package, then the following day vomited the same), and a magazine where all the wizards were starkers and wearing funny hats and very very attentive to him (Severus was deeply embarrassed by it and hid it away in the false bottom of his trunk). Sirius continued to turn up as Padfoot on a regular basis, and Severus couldn't help but be nice to him.
Lily was also a sore spot; she was warming to stupid Potter, and Snape knew, he just knew, with every fiber of his being, that Lily would be much better off with him. Or at least better off without Potter. He could surely figure out how to seduce her, if he was just given the chance. Until such an opportunity arose, his fantasies about Lily focused on her eyes and the freckles that grazed her nose. He imagined her face and felt nice and warm and tingly inside.
All told, these topics left him extra keen to lock himself in the Potions classroom and putter about with Wolfsbane. He hoped that the holidays would simply mean more time for potions, but he had the sinking feeling that his relationship with Sirius would turn some new and frightening corner. At least maybe Sirius would have more marijuana. If he could surround himself with higher quality snack food, Snape could easily envision getting high every day of the rest of his life. That night with the Chocolate Frogs had been a peak experience, almost as memorable as the bum fumbling episode. Sometimes he thought about repeating the bum fondling, but he always resisted his impulses.