Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§
Severus squirmed and his eyelids fluttered closed whenever the butt plug bumped against his prostate. He'd never thought he'd be so randy that he'd consent to inserting something guaranteed to keep him on the knife's edge of orgasm, or that he'd have to do so or otherwise he'd be against any horizontal surface, surrendering to Remus Lupin's masterful passions...or doing the same to that wicked werewolf. Severus had to bite back a moan at the images that were flitting through his mind.
"I would have thought sex toys were to remain in the bedroom."
Severus looked up from the potion he was creating, searching for the voice.
"Here, Snape." Severus looked up and to the right, into a hazy scene with mysterious ruins and flickering bonfires in the distance. "Wager you never thought to see me again?"
Severus almost dropping his stirring rod into the potion in surprise. "Sirius Black? What the hell are you doing in one of my paintings?" he shouted even while one part of his mind kept count of how many widdershins stirs he had done.
When he reached twenty-one, he removed the stirring rod from the centre of the potion and removed the cauldron from its low fire. "Now that I'm going I'm not going to waste all my hard work for your amusement, tell me why you're suddenly roaming the paintings of the House of Strangers." Severus crossed his arms over his chest, clenching his buttocks and feeling his neck and cheeks flush.
Sirius laughed and leaned against an artistically eroded pillar. He smirked as Severus ground his teeth. "Snape, you turn the loveliest shade of mortified I've ever seen." He looked from one side of the frame to the other. "Where's Moony? I just wanted to let him know something odd happened to the Veil." He polished his fingernails against his shirt and waited...
"What in Merlin's tatty robes are you talking about?" Severus shouted. He stalked toward the painting and poked it emphatically.
"Hey, hey, now!" Sirius stood up and waved his hands around. He cleared his throat. "Fine," he huffed out. "You two buggering bunnies seem to have touched off some kinky good sex magic." Sirius grinned and leaned forward. "Seems there's a warm breeze blowing out of the Veil. I think you and Moony should investigate, especially since he'll need you to get in the ministry. Might be something Harry could use."
Severus rocked back on his heels, a considering look warring with a lustful shiver on his face. He swallowed. "Why should I believe you, Black? You've never been of any use to me." He glared, one eyelid fluttering in a tic.
"Let's put it this way, Snape: I may be dead, but I'm no longer mad. I may not like you, but Moony, Remus loves you and from where I'm standing that's not a bad thing. I've been freed from a great many things." Sirius grinned, and Severus could feel a bit of the prat's vaunted charm. "'Sides, seems you have some pretty nubile lovelies around here and I'm feeling the love. So to speak." He turned and began walking into the painting's misty background. "And since your Great Aunt Helga's a fine figure of a woman, even for a portrait, I thought it'd be a good idea to pour oil on our troubled waters." He disappeared from view, his barking laugh lingering behind him.
Severus seethed and winced. Torn between ire and passion, he bit his lip and then sent off a Patronus.
»¤«∞»¤«
Bellatrix gazed into her scrying mirror. Granted it was crazed with cracks and it was scratched, but it had been her mother's and it was an heirloom. She shook it from side-to-side, trying to see someone with dark hair moving down a brightly lit hallway, but the face never appeared except in the portion of the mirror missing silvering on the back. She scratched idly at her Dark Mark, whimpering when it didn't hurt.
"Roddy," she called out. "Rodolphus! Come look at my mirror. It's broken."
Rodolphus bit his lip and winced as the enchanted nipple clamps reacted to Bellatrix's choice of words. Broken was the keyword to make them bite down harder. He had to try three times before they loosened their jaws and feel off, the pain exquisite...until his wife screeched again.
"Coming, coming," he shouted back. "Though I'd be coming now if you hadn't interrupted me again," he muttered as he tugged on his shirt.
"What do you want, Bellatrix? I was busy."
She held up the ancient mirror. "Fix it, Roddy. You know shinies better than me. Do we need to put it in the wardrobe again?"
He rolled his eyes. "Bellatrix, do you remember what I told you about that?" He reached out snatched the mirror from her hand. "We are real wizards. We do not need a wardrobe or a mangy lion to use powerful magic." He held the mirror in one hand and drew his wand out and swirled it in the above the cracked looking-glass.
"But, Roddy, we could use a cold-hearted bitch witch, you know you said that," Bellatrix whined, her eyes fixed on the slowly melting and solidifying mirror.
"So, you were listening, eh?" He handed the recreated mirror back to Bellatrix only to have it shatter again as soon as she looked into it.
"Fix it, Roddy, again."
Rodolphus thought longingly of his nipple clamps and the Light witch tart he was going to meet later in Hogsmeade as he grabbed the mirror and attempted to heal the cracks. For the umpteenth time. A task which he knew was futile, but one doesn't point that out to a madwoman, especially one's wife, who one happens to be cheating on.
»¤«∞»¤«
Once Bellatrix had wandered off with her cracked looking-glass Rodolphus donned his nipple clamps. He put on his best dark wizard's robes and ran through the headquarters to the Apparition point. Without a backward glance, he entered the circle inlaid in the stone floor and thought about the Hog's Head Tavern and his piece on the side.
He landed with a muttered curse as he tripped over a goat and slid through mud and muck. "Bloody goats! Bloody shite!"
"Oi! What 'er you doin' in my goat pen?"
"Fuck you, old man. I'm here to do business." Rodolphus climbed over the goat pen fence and pushed past Aberforth.
"Then you'd better learn to Apparate, arse." Aberforth pulled out his wand and sent Stinging Hex at Rodolphus' butt. "Just so you remember I owe this place and it's neutral ground. For now."
Rodolphus tossed a two-fingered salute over his shoulder as he pulled open the tavern's back door.
»¤«∞»¤«
"There you are," Rodolophus said in what he thought was a sultry voice. He slid into the booth across from his lover.
"Nice of you to show up." The woman glanced up from her pint of ale, eyes changing from brown to violet. Her lips grew fuller and darker, as if stained with blood, and Rodolphus' eyes flickered down and he licked his own, wishing that were so. "I've got our room upstairs."
"Why don't we just cast Notice-Me-Not charms and have at it right here?" he asked as he patted the scarred, sticky table.
"I want a bed, damn it! I pulled splinters from my arse for a week after that last time." She chuckled softly and reached for his hand. "Although the getting of them was well worth it at the time. Now, let's go upstairs. I've got to get back to the Ministry soon." They slid out of the booth, fingers entwined. Neither one noticed several pair of eyes—some alive, some painted—watching their exit.
»¤«∞»¤«
"Oh, gods, woman! You have the strongest hands I've ever felt," Rodolphus groaned.
The woman kneeling on the bed simpered and pulsed her hand around the silky, hot penis in it. Her other hand was tugging the short and curly hair of his bollocks. Then, she sneezed. And, her hand squeezed. Hard.
Rodolphus spent himself with a shout and fell across the bed.
The hand still wrapped around his wilted manhood seemed to change. Rodolphus turned his head, mouth open to speak and moaned. His lover had disappeared and in her place was someone he'd thought long dead. "You're dead!"
The hand clenched tighter and Rodolphus whined and tried to pull away. It was a mistake.
"Aiee!" he screeched.
"Lestrange, you're a fucking perv, you know that, don't you?" the man said, his grip firm, very firm.
"Potter, let me go. Let me go!"
James Potter sat up, squeezing until Rodolphus was a whimpering ball. "Now, you're going to tell me anything I want to know." He leaned close and whispered, "Or would you like me to make certain you never use this," James tugged Rodolphus' cock, "again?"
"What-what do you want to know?"
§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§
~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading. ~~~