Dark Coil

Dark Coil

Chapter Seven

The dark form slipped from shadow to shadow as it climbed the ruined staircase. This part of the castle had long been sealed off to students and few were those on the staff who would venture into the crumbling halls. A low moaning wind twisted its way along the stones and through the empty windows that stared out into the night with blind eyes.

Severus Snape came here to think. There was much to ponder this night. The message he had received spoke of a well-placed wizarding family possibly hiding the fleeing Wormtail. Snape was not surprised at the suspected involvement of Lucius Malfoy. The Malfoys had been supporters of the Dark Arts for generations. It seemed that evil had been bred into them. There was the distinct probability that Snape would be making a trip to London. If he could ferret out the spineless Pettigrew then maybe the festering sore that was Voldemort could be lanced. There were many things to take into consideration, plans to be made, schemes to set in motion. Snape would take the situation to Headmaster Dumbledore this very night. Events had been moving along at a quickening pace since the Triwizard Tournament three years ago, when Voldemort had risen, whole and new. At the time, many who heard the news denied the terrible possibility of a Dark Lord reborn, their greatest fear given life. But now people were choosing sides, some openly, some not. It was becoming harder and harder to know whom to trust. Snape had lived through similar times years ago, barely escaping with his life, much less his sanity. This time, it had to be different. It had to be different!

Then there was the disturbing news of the many unexplained Muggle deaths in the past few months. Bodies were turning up in waste dumps all over the London area, bodies sucked dry of more than just life. The Muggle press was in an uproar demanding that the fiend or fiends be captured. They just do not understand what they are up against, Snape mused. There was more than just a "feeding" going on. From the number of bodies recovered, the amount of essence being drained far exceeded that necessary to support demonic life. No, there was more. Snape racked his brain, sifted through the considerable knowledge he had gathered over the years, for a spell or potions requiring the deaths of so many people. But the answer frustrated and eluded him. He needed more time to research, to probe. The answer was somewhere.

The brooding Potion Master gathered billowing robes close to his lean form, crossed his arms over his chest and looked out over the broken stone wall. The night was cloudless, the moon a pale slice of silver. Thin mist hung over the waters of the lake, imprisoning the starlight, waiting to be burnt away by the dawn.

A flash of silver caught Snape's eye as a snowy owl silently winged its way around the tower. He watched the graceful animal wheel and soar, looping back on itself in the sheer joy of flight. The owl called out and the lonely sound of its voice echoed back from the gray stone. Snape could appreciate the unanswered cry. The bird continued to circle the tower as if looking for a place to land and Professor Snape's breath caught in his throat as the owl folded its wings and hurtled for the exact spot the black robed man now occupied. Raising his arm as a shield, Snape was amazed when the majestic bird gently lit on his forearm, talons gripping tightly but without crushing pressure.

They stared, unblinking, the man and the bird.

Crooning softly, Snape eased his free hand to the watchful owl and began to stroke the snowy breast with the back of his fingers. The feathers were smoother than the finest of silks and the professor was struck at how lovely was this proud animal perched trustingly on his arm. The owl lowered its head and nibbled at the stroking fingers in an affectionate manner, small chirps and pips bubbling up from the beak. Obviously a much loved and cared for familiar, thought Snape with a bit of envy. He had seen many owls in his time, but this one was a queen. The huge eyes regarded him with such keen intelligence he half expected the bird to speak. Without warning, the massive bird spread her wings, and circling Snape a final time, headed out into the night. A single cry marked her passing.

The beauty of the owl brought to mind a more pleasant memory than that of Wormtail and Malfoy and dead Muggles. The annual faculty dinner had proven to be far from boring. Minerva McGonagall's daughter had set Snape's mind along more pleasurable paths. Even now, he could feel her hand pressing his fingers as she bid him call her by her given name, Olivia. It had been so long since anyone had initiated physical contact with the dark instructor, that he had been unable to respond until her hand had been removed. Gods, how she had disturbed him tonight! Olivia had teased him, snarled at him and then practically had him making love to her at the table in the span of one meal. The dress Minerva provided had not been much help either. Snape groaned aloud remembering the view presented to him as he had removed Olivia's outer robe. So much lovely pale flesh!

And a quick mind. Her flippant response to his blatant seduction had nearly reduced him to a chuckling baffoon. Only his years of habitual snarling had enabled him to remain at the table. She had trounced him a few times tonight during dinner and the meeting Dumbledore held afterward. The generous headmaster had gifted each of his staff with a dragon hide case, "A briefcase." Olivia had informed him. Inside was a complete calendar of the school year. Meetings had been scheduled and written down months in advance. A tiny enchanted bell would ring alerting the owner of each case to check the schedule for important dates and times. Reading through the year's planned events, Snape had been as shocked as his charming dinner partner when they both noticed Dumbledore had appointed them both the honor of resurrecting the defunct Dueling Club. He and Olivia would be spending each Wednesday evening in each other's company. Snape wondered what the wily headmaster had been thinking of when he had made his committee selections? The old man never did anything without a reason, Snape thought, never. But, Dumbledore had revealed nothing of his purpose, merely announced the reformation of the Dueling Club and moved on to other matters.

Snape had been thumbing through his calendar, admiring the fine workmanship and the smoothness of the paper, when suddenly letters began to appear on the page before him.

Lookie what I can do!

Now I can aggravate you and not even be in the same chamber!

Snape's eyes widened slightly but his training took over quickly. He glanced casually around the gathering of witches and wizards, wondering who had espelled his book. People were either hanging on Dumbledore's every word or had dozed off under the influence of fine food and wine. Out of the corner of his eye, Snape could see Miss McGonagall looking at the headmaster with a glazed expression in her eyes.

Oh the possibilities…

Hey, I got a joke for you.

How am I like a cauldron?

Because you light my fire!

Snape's breath hissed through his teeth and he shot a quick glance across the table to Maxwell Dillard, but the sultry Dark Arts instructor was sound asleep in his chair, his black head hanging over the back, mouth open.

Nope, not Max.

Yuck, how could you even think that?

Try again.

Someone was watching Snape very closely.

Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.

Time is almost up.

Ding!

Sorry! You loose.

And to the professor's annoyance the spectral author drew a circle, two cartoon eyes and an enormous tongue blowing an almost audible raspberry.

Picking up his own pen, Snape wrote on the page, Olivia?

Yea, but it is too late.

No big cookie for you!

Snape remembered turning to face a wickedly grinning minx, green eyes flashing. That Olivia was actually teasing him, flirting perhaps, stunned the reclusive wizard, and frightened him. He had no memory of any woman taking the lead, initiating contact with him before. He had tried to lie to himself, pretend it didn't matter, but tonight Snape could easily admit the truth, he was lonely. Forty years old and not even that many kisses, most of those had been paid for. And here was a desirable young woman, apparently in her right mind, touching him, teasing him, seeming to enjoy time in his company. That she didn't remember him from the trial or was choosing not to bring it up bothered Snape a bit. He would bide his time, see how events played out. Perhaps Albus had been correct in saying Snape had the entire year to look forward to.

The potion master pulled his thoughts back to the terror in London and his need to see Dumbledore and report this latest information. Together they would devise a legitimate reason for his absence from the school if he were to go hunting for Peter Pettigrew. Turning, Snape made his silent way from the ruined tower.

The wind continued to moan along the empty corridors, the slim slice of moon creating dim shadows and tinting the wings of the soaring owl with silver.

Olivia's sharp owl eyes watched as Professor Snape moved across the floor of the tower and into the corridor leading back to the main part of the castle. She had been shocked and somewhat frightened when he has appeared earlier. One of her fears was that someone outside of her family would discover her Animagus ability and turn her over to the Ministry of Magic. Unregistered Animagi could face heavy fines and were under constant surveillance afterwards. And there were those in the magical community who looked with disfavor upon witches and wizards who chose to alter themselves into non-human form. For Olivia, it had not been a choice. She had been born with the ability to change into any non-human animal she desired. She favored the body of the snowy owl because of its ability to fly and in its body, Olivia felt truly beautiful.

Minerva had tried several times over the years to persuade Olivia to step forward and have herself registered, but the young woman had adamantly refused. "Mama, do you think I want these people prying into my life? My natural parents didn't even want me after they found out what I could do. If a mother could throw away her child… I will not let the Ministry turn me into a freak, like they did Remus."

Remus Lupin was one of Olivia's closest friends. With him she had shared her ability and her fears of discovery. She had seen first hand what people could do to those they perceived as different. Lupin had lost his position as Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher a few years ago right here at Hogwarts, all because some spiteful person had discovered Lupin was a werewolf. As long as he drank a specially prepared potion a week before the full moon, Lupin was as docile as a pet retriever when the change came over him. That hadn't been good enough for some people, though. Lupin had tendered his resignation and retired to his rundown home. Olivia grew angry every time she thought of that gentle man with his brilliant mind locked away because of misplaced fears.

It would not happen to her. That was a promise Olivia made to herself. There were a few people outside her immediate family that knew of her ability to turn into an owl, but only she, Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, and Albus Dumbledore knew what she was truly capable of.

When Olivia mentioned to Minerva this evening her desire to fly a bit before turning in, the older woman had directed her daughter to the dark hallway leading to the unused section of Hogwarts Castle. "I know students are forbidden to even come close to the door. I doubt that any faculty or staff wanders that way often. But you will have to promise that you will use every caution," the elder witch had begged her daughter, concern in her eyes. "There are some here who would not raise an eyebrow at turning you in if it meant recognition and advancement for themselves."

Olivia had not been soaring about the tower long when she spied the solitary figure shrouded in black, recognition coming immediately. Snape seemed to be in deep thought as he paced slowly about the crumbling tower, and she wondered about his pensive demeanor. She had been surprised and charmed by the brooding man during dinner and couldn't stop herself from baiting him once she discovered the properties of the magical quill. While he would probably deny it hotly, the lean wizard had flirted with her outrageously. His simmering words had stroked her body as boldly as his finger. Olivia had been aroused and amused by their word play and looked forward to continuing the game. She had pressed her luck tonight when she had landed on Snape's arm. Whatever reaction she had been expecting, had been eclipsed by the sensation of his fingers stroking over her breast. His eyes had been filled with admiration and wonder, prompting Olivia to place gentle "kisses" on his hand with her beak. While Snape was not a man many would call handsome, she was never the less attracted to his lean, spare features. She was also deeply curious about what he had been doing since his release from Azkaban She had even toyed with the notion of coming forward and revealing her part in his conviction. Perhaps after a bit more time had passed, Olivia decided. They would certainly have time to get better acquainted with each other. Each Wednesday evening after start of term she and the Potions professor would be directing the Dueling Club. It was Dumbledore's firm belief that with Voldemort and his followers on the move, students should have a firm foundation in protecting themselves against the might of the Dark Arts. The Dueling Club would give students the opportunity to practice against real spells in a safe environment.

The white owl cupped her massive wings and glided to the stone floor. In the same instant the feathered animal disappeared and a scantily dressed woman stood in her place.

Scooting into the shadows, Olivia reappeared with her heavy cloak fastened about her throat. She cast the hood up over her head and moved to the dark hallway leading from this unused portion of the school. Her mind was full of the possibilities being offered here at Hogwarts. Between teaching classes, hosting duels and learning more of Severus Snape, Olivia knew it would definitely not be a boring year

************************************************************************

The following days were filled with staff meetings and planning sessions. Olivia, who had never instructed a class in her life, was finding out that there was more to teaching than standing before a group of students and giving a reading assignment. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick threw out such terms as "scope and sequence, darling. What are you going to teach and how will you go about getting them to learn it?" "Prior knowledge, prior knowledge! That's the key! Got to have something to hang all that new information on before it will stick!"

Professor Snape provided more practical advice. "Never assume they know anything."

And from Uncle Albus,"My child, have you prepared your book list?"

Each evening after the final meal, Olivia would force herself into the huge old library and attempt to prepare lessons. She began to get an appreciation for her ignorance as she was trying to assemble a lesson on the Wizard Constitution and realized that the students may not even know where their laws came from or how they had evolved into their modern forms. Almost in tears she tossed away hours of work and went back to the shelves hunting for books on the basics of law. She poured over dusty volumes and jotted notes until late into the night. He shoulders ached and her eyes were burning with fatigue when she finally gathered her many rolls of parchment and tucked them neatly in her briefcase. Olivia walked to the front of the library, shoe heels clicking on the smooth marble floor, one hand rubbing at the back of her neck. The lanterns on the front desk had been extinguished hours ago and the candles that were still burning were low. As Olivia approached the front desk, a flicker of movement caught the corner of her eye. Peering down a dark tunnel of massive shelves, Olivia could make out a dark figure hunched over a thick book, reading by the light of a single taper. It was Professor Snape.

Their contact since the night of the dinner had been limited to meetings and brief salutations when passing in the corridors. While he had not been cold to her, Snape had not been the charming seducer she remembered from that first evening. She hoped he was not regretting the informality they had shared.

Olivia hesitated. She was tempted to approach the Potions instructor, spend some time in his company free from the demands of term preparation, but he appeared engrossed in the book he was reading. It would not be right to disturb him when he was so deeply involved. Olivia had barely taken a step towards the door when he spoke.

"Come out of the shadows, won't you Miss McGonagall? It is not polite to spy on others."

A tiny smile played across her lips. "En guarde," she whispered, walking into the thin candlelight.

Olivia approached the table boldly. Placing her briefcase on the floor, she settled herself in a chair opposite the Potions Master.

Snape had closed his book and was reclining back in his own chair, long legs stretched before him. His hands lay folded on the black and silver brocade of his vest. Hooded eyes of glittering jet regarded Olivia coolly and she returned the stare. Snape considered his conversation a few nights earlier with the headmaster. He had reported the contents of the letter and presented Dumbledore with his ideas on a possible course of action. Dumbledore had agreed fully when Snape spoke of his intention of heading to London. What shocked and alarmed the black haired wizard were Dumbledore's next words.

"You should consider taking Olivia with you, Severus. Her familiarity with the Muggle world, plus her other specialized skills, will prove invaluable to your search."

Snape knew his jaw had dropped and he had looked at the elder wizard as if fearing for Dumbledore's sanity. He had pressed the headmaster for more information, but Dumbledore had merely suggested that Snape consult his niece. The curious wizard had observed Olivia closely ever since that night, looking for some clue as to her "specialized skills", but his study had not been rewarded. While Olivia remained a delight to his eye and a challenge to his equilibrium, Snape could not detect in her any specialized magical skills.

Snape had noticed Olivia working alone in the gloom of the library when he came in to research spells of concealment. There had to be a way of getting close to Voldemort and his hiding place without being detected by the Dark Lord. As with his observation of Olivia, the charms and spells of hiding eluded the frustrated man. He ground his teeth, exasperated as he watched Olivia approach and take a seat. The sting of failure was fresh and Snape saw in the woman before him, the author of a portion of his anger.

"You are working late? Preparing for the flood of hungry young minds eager to be filled with all you have to offer?" His dark voice was heavy with sarcasm. "If you are hoping to find a budding legal lion at Hogwarts, you are sure to be disappointed. The majority of them lack depth of imagination and any spark of brilliance has been bred from them generations ago."

"According to Uncle Albus," Olivia countered, "there are several exciting young people at the school. He told me that one in particular, a Miss Granger--" At the name, Snape snorted loudly and rolled his eyes skyward. "--is the brightest young witch he has seen in ages. Soaks up information like a sponge. She comes from a Muggle family, doesn't she?"

"I do not socialize with the students, so I would not know. I can tell you that Miss Granger is a chatty know-it-all. If she excels in her studies, it is an attempt to compensate for her many other character flaws," Snape informed her dryly. "Undoubtedly, your uncle has informed you of our resident celebrity, one Mr. Harry Potter?" He bit each off word harshly.

"You almost have me scared to tell you I am looking forward to meeting him. Uncle Albus tells me Potter is a remarkable young man. He is what--seventeen now?"

"I suppose. Potter is a rule-breaking opportunist. He is hoping to cash in on his fame as the world's most well known orphan. His skills as a wizard are mediocre, though he does show some promise as a Quidditch champion." Here Snape paused and a sardonic smile twisted his lips. "Perhaps we shall see him on a box of breakfast flakes or an athletic shoe."

"Boy," Olivia laughed softly. "You do have a really bad case of burnout." She laughed more at the look of incomprehension on his lean face. "How long have you been teaching anyway?"

Snape looked away from her, staring in to the deep gloom of the library. "Long enough to know that I am wasting my time on most of these young people."

"Well, why don't you just find something else to do? I mean, if you don't like your job, get another one." Olivia reached out and slid his book towards herself, turning it so that she could read the title. Spells and Potions of Concealment vol. III. "Planning on hiding from the kiddies this year?"

His voice slapped across the narrow table. "Tell me, Miss McGonagall," the brooding wizard snapped. "Why did you leave the courtroom? Were you---burnt out?"

Olivia studied the man before her. She could feel the anger radiating from him. She knew she would have to proceed carefully.

"I guess you could say that," Olivia answered. "I grew tired of defending losers, people too stupid to be productive, but smart enough to get into trouble with the Muggle police." She sighed slowly. " I wanted to make a difference, once. Really help people who were unable to help themselves." Snape continued to watch her in silence, his face now impassive. "But I screwed up right from the start." She bit her lip and pushed stray wisps of hair behind her ears. How much should she tell him tonight?

"Yes." Snape's voice was low. "I was very disappointed with the outcome of that one. Not that I had expected much from you pack of virgins."

Olivia chuckled at his observation, then froze, as his words became clear. Her mouth was suddenly dry and her eyes stared wide. She gulped. Snape never moved, never changed expression. He watched as first confusion, then fear, and at last calm flashed across the pale face that shone in the flickering light of the candle. "Yes." His voice was a silky hiss. "I know you. I. Know. You."

Strangely, Olivia felt relief enter her limbs. It was out now. She didn’t have to worry about hiding from him any longer. With relief, came peace.

"When did you figure it out? I had thought, perhaps you hadn't remembered me."

"I never forget someone who has wronged me, Miss McGonagall. As for when I knew-- the night of the faculty dinner." He sat forward in his chair, his folded hands on the table before him. "Yours is not an easy face to forget. You were there the day I was taken from the courtroom. I remember you standing with the other fools who dared call them selves my defenders." His lips twisted cruelly. He jabbed a slender finger at her and spat, " You were crying! Blubbering over your first failure."

Olivia moved her head in denial, her eyes and mouth wide in shock.

"Don't shake your head at me! You were crying over your first big loss!"

"No!" Olivia managed to choke out. She reached out and wrapped her hands around his, pressing them tightly. " I knew what was waiting for you. I had been told that the dementors were there to take you. You did not deserve that. We failed you, I know. We didn't try hard enough. No, I take that back. We didn't try at all. I believed, we all believed you were guilty, but that does not excuse what we did, what we allowed to happen to you." She leaned closer and kissed the tops of his knuckles. In her distress Olivia missed the flash of shock that lanced across Snape's face.

"I wanted to tell you from the first, but I wasn't sure how to go about bringing it up." Olivia released a ragged sigh and looked up into the burning eyes before her. "I am glad it is out in the open now. For better or worse. I am glad."

The silence hung heavy over them. Snape relaxed his fingers and allowed Olivia's slender hands to shift until they were resting trustingly in his.

When he spoke, Olivia had to strain to hear his words. They seemed to have come from a great distance and were exhausted by the journey.

"Have you any idea what it is like in Azkaban?"

Slowly, Olivia shook her head. "No," she whispered. She tried to pull her hands from his but he squeezed, crushing her fingers. "Please don't…"

"Oh, really it is not as bad as you would think." Snape's voice took on a lilting, quirky tone, but horror stared out from his eyes. "The screams got on my nerves at first; I got quite good at tuning them out. It is amazing what you can do when you really put your mind to it."

"Severus, please. You are hurting me." Olivia pleaded. This seemed to reach him, for Snape released her. Springing to his feet he strode around the table to sink to one knee by her chair. He traced a finger lightly along the chair arm and took up his narrative.

"Of course, you know what dementors are for. The suck the joy and contentment right out of a fellow. I was unable to even contemplate my revenge on you and that pack of idiots that sent me there." Olivia had flinched at his yell. "You see, I derived too much pleasure from planning just how I was going to dismember each of you, and the dementors were drawn to my dark glee as I imagined your screams."

Olivia placed her hands on either side of Snape's face. "Severus, I am sorry, so sorry." She pleaded," Stop. Please don't do this."

Snape turned his lips into her palm and pressed a kiss into her hand. "So sweet. So pretty. So sloppy." His eyes snapped back to hers. "I digress. Did dear, old Uncle Albus tell you that when he finally showed up to take me home I fought him? Did he tell you how I begged to stay?" Olivia shook her head numbed by the words she was hearing, the fruits of her labors.

Severus grasped the back of Olivia's head in one hand and pulled her face close to his. "By that time I lived only to receive the kiss. I was ready to join the club, you know. I wanted to be just like them. Dark, lovely, unfeeling. Can you see me as a dementor? I would make a right jolly one, don't you think?"

Tears were now seeping down Olivia's cheeks. She could not stop his story. She would not stop him. He had waited seventeen years to purge himself of the horror and pain. She deserved the lashing her heart now received. She accepted it, embraced it.

"Oh," Snape whispered. "You are crying. You would have gotten on well in Azkaban. All the tears…"

Olivia wiped at her face with the sleeve of her robe. Snape drew a deep breath and continued. "By the time Dumbledore arrived, almost every shred of my sanity had been burned from my mind. I do have memories of standing at my cell door calling out to my keepers, begging them to come and finish me off. I couldn't let a dementor pass my cell without pleading with them. You can feel a dementor, you know. They push waves of despair before them like a tidal surge. It beats you down, pounds the breath from your lungs, engulfs you. There is no defense. You are tossed and churned until they pass by and then you find yourself washed up on a narrow strand of hope. My hope was that one day a dementor would come and suck out my soul." Here Snape laughed, a soft bitter sound. "What I didn’t realize until much later was that I was damning myself. My dream of being leeched dry, of ceasing to care, my desire for death was what kept me alive." His voice broke. "They fed on my constant plea for release."

Looking deeply into Olivias's trapped eyes he asked, "Have you ever begged for a kiss? No, not you. There would be men lining up to treasure those sweet lips. It never really mattered much to me. Well, maybe at one time…but you don’t care to hear about my poor broken heart."

Snape paused, his eyes probing Olivia's, following the path of a tear as it made its way down her cheek.

"Olivia, I craved their touch. I yearned for it like a lover. My thoughts were filled with nothing but the desire to join my flesh to theirs. To have one of them place hands about my face just so." Burning hands cupped either side of Olivia's face and tilted it to his. "I would have been lifted up and cold, lovely lips would have been pressed to mine."

Snape's mouth hovered over Olivia's, his eyes holding her spellbound, unwilling to break free.

His eyes still on hers, Snape covered her trembling lips with his own. Olivia shivered at the contact. His lips were hot and tender as they sealed her mouth. He began to slowly inhale. Olivia felt the oxygen being pulled from her lungs and she gripped his upper arms with both hands, rising up fuller into the embrace, her heart jumping.

Breaking his contact, Snape whispered, "I now have your soul." His black eyes were questioning, uncertain, and then he bent his head to taste her once more.

The touch of his lips sent heat flooding through her entire body. Olivia felt no fear of him as she gently flicked her tongue into his mouth, circling his teeth and inviting his tongue to do the same. Snape's entire body shuddered. He raised his head as if to pull away. Olivia captured his lower lip and sucked its warmth like a berry, her hands traveling to his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer. He surrendered to her fully, his lips and tongue joining hers in a lover's dance. Olivia's heart soared in her breast as the kiss deepened. He slanted his mouth across her, his tongue dipping and savoring the nectar of her lips.

Olivia felt his hand leave the back of her head and move slowly to her neck, sliding along her jaw and down her throat. Her breath froze in her lungs as she felt a tentative touch along the top of her breast. Olivia moaned out his name as Snape captured her flesh and began to knead the firm mound, his thumb stroking across her hardening nipple. She arched her spine, pushing herself into his warmth. She ran her hands deep into his hair and deepened the kiss.

"No!" His voice, raspy with passion, Snape turned his face from hers. Olivia mewed like a babe denied the breast, attempting to bring his lips back to her own. "No, I say!"

Snape rose quickly, pushing his body from hers and backing from where she sat. "Forgive me, madam. I seemed to have lost my head. You are most tempting, but with regret, I must decline."

Black eyes bored into Olivia's and she did see regret and something more, before he looked away. Her body felt cold now without the warmth of his closeness. She forced her hands to calm, tried to still their shaking by placing them in her lap. Her racing heart was another matter. Olivia closed her eyes and focused on slowing her breathing.

She heard harsh breathing as Snape forced his body to calm. Smoothing her hands over the folds of cloth in her lap, Olivia fought to rein in her own cravings. The blood still snag through her veins and her lips throbbed painfully with the remembered pressure of his mouth. A longing had settled itself deep in her belly, a spreading heat that worked its way between her thighs and made her want to cry out her frustration, force him to continue his tender assault and carry her over the edge of passion into sweet release.

She drew in and released a deep breath. "I will not forgive you, sir." Olivia rose from her chair and crossed to where Snape stood eyeing her dangerously. "You kiss me, touch me like you just did, getting me all worked up and then you stop. Forgive you? Never! I do not accept unfinished work, not from anyone. Heck no, I won't forgive you. You have to complete the work you started!"

Snape's mouth twisted angrily as he attempted to speak, but Olivia placed her fingers over his lip, halting the words. "Maybe not tonight," she snapped, her eyes flashing hotly, "maybe not even tomorrow. But soon." Lowering her hand, Olivia turned and snatched her briefcase from the floor. "You can bet on that!"

The Potion Master watched, stunned as Olivia swept down the tunnel of shelves and her figure was swallowed up in the shadows. "You don't own my soul, Professor!" her voice called back to him. "It is I who possess yours. You're going to have to come and get it!" He could hear her heels clicking across the cold marble floor and the room vibrated with the sound of the door slamming shut behind her.

Stunned, Professor Snape considered her words. Olivia had actually challenged him. Challenged him to finish what he had started! Why had he stopped? His desire for her had exploded the moment their lips had touched. Every ounce of his strength had been employed in pulling away from her sweetness. There was no use denying his desire for her. Even now he could envision their bodies writhing around each other on the tabletop. Perhaps he could have taken her up against the tall shelves, her long silky legs locked around his thrusting hips, her voice crying out as her drove into her again and again.

He raked his hair back from his face, struggling to bring his body under control, calling himself ten kinds of fool for starting this in the first place. What had he intended to prove?

He asked himself over and over, why had he stopped. Snape placed both hands on the cool surface of the tabletop, his head hanging limply, his breathing ragged.

************************************************************************

Olivia danced along the shadowy corridors, in and out of silver rectangles that lay slanted across her path. Gentle peals of laughter accompanied her steps. She would have given anything to have seen his face at that parting shot! Her nerves still cried out for release, but she was giddy with joy at what had passed between them. He wanted her.

Olivia had thrown down the glove. She knew Snape would be unable to resist snatching it up. Swinging her briefcase, she twirled and laughed, dancing off into the night.