Title: So Worthy a Colleague
Pairings: Snape/Penelope, Percy/himself
Warning (highlight to view): Welcomed coercion in a cross-generational pairing and wandless Legilimentical mind reading (Penelope is seventeen).
Word Count: 1500
Disclaimer: This piece is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling; various publishers, including, but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books; and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Penelope likes authority.
Author's Notes: Written for mimbulus as part of snail_mail_porn's Betrayal Challenge. Thank you, Anonymous and calmingshoggoth, for beta'ing.
Penelope admires Percy. His manner is, perhaps, a bit pompous at times, but he carries himself with masterdom. Penelope likes authority and feels certain that, when she and her boyfriend are eventually married, he will be an excellent husband, a good father—and a deft provider of the requisite firmness she yearns for in a lover. Thus far, unfortunately, Percy's observation of the proprieties has not afforded Penelope much of an opportunity to discover the wizard's amorous proclivities.
Severus Snape has observed Miss Clearwater's idolatry of discipline and wants to further the witch's practical understanding of the concept. If only, he tells himself, to prime her to educate her swain in the arridement of her desires. The Potions master knows that it is impossible to teach that which one does not know, and he has discerned that Percy Weasley is only as dominant as those whom he seeks to emulate.
Percy wishes his girlfriend would stop pestering him for premarital sex. "Penny," he reminds her over butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks, "as a Special Assistant to the Minister for Magic, I must conduct my personal affairs with the strictest decorum at all times." He forgets to heed his own counsel as he contemplates the alluring silkiness of his girlfriend's black tresses—coloring to imagine her more intimate curls—and attempts not to dwell on how the vanilla scent of her skin makes him stiffen.
Penelope hates the way that Percy calls her "Penny." He doesn't take me seriously, she thinks, and he won't touch me. He believes I am too ladylike, so he won't forget his position and order me to assume one, she frets, gathering up her books after cleaning her cauldron. She is almost to the door when Professor Snape, with that fascinatingly tenebrous voice, bids her to remain a moment. She finds it thrilling that he does not ask.
Severus knows of Percy Weasley's mission for Albus Dumbledore and discusses it with the boy, who tells him, "I trust dear Penny, but she wouldn't understand the risks I am taking." The Potions master says, "You are right to shield her, of course," but he thinks, She craves saving from the frustration borne of your chivalry. Severus is adept at relieving his own tedious tensions and decides it would be selfish not to proffer his tuition on the matter to a woman so well-loved by a fellow Order member.
Percy goes home for lunch, early. "A headache," he tells Fudge's secretary, and his superior, as it happens, though he does not think of the fussy, officious little functionary in that regard. He strips off the moment he Apparates into his flat. He knows it is irregular, but he is thinking of the glimpse of Penny's exposed, creamy skin that he caught on their last visit, of her décolleté, and it is plaguing him. I must control . . . these . . . thoughts! He chokes back a groan as he comes.
Penelope starts as Professor Snape orders, "Follow me," and hastens after him to his office. "Sit," he tells her, and she watches as he removes his robes and stands in front of his desk in his jacket, which he begins to unbutton. Penelope tries not to stare as the wizard removes it, as well, and looms provocatively over her in only his embroidered vest, starched shirt, and pleated trousers. She is forced to restrain her eyes from straying from Professor Snape's own to his . . . . Don't look, don't look, don't look, she begs herself.
Severus instructs Penelope to "Look," and he notes how her large brown eyes widen in confusion. "But I am," she tells him. "No, Miss Clearwater—I want you to look at how you affect me," he demands, glancing down at the stretched wool of his trousers. Penelope looks. Severus employs Legilimancy upon her mind, pulling from it, Oh! He's . . . so big . . . so hard—for me. He relishes her blush, which travels from her cheeks down her throat to gild her bosom. He knows that she is wondering if she has fallen asleep at her worktable and adores the way her unruly ringlets cascade about her face as she shakes her head to clear it. He leers at the witch in his most practiced, predatory manner and savors how Penelope swallows and squirms.
Percy is disgusted with himself. Having it off in the middle of the day—what is the matter with me? He considers that Penny might be correct about the importance of alleviating . . . . Perhaps I would have noticed that Mr. Crouch was under Imperious if I had not been so preoccupied by my baser urges, he muses, deciding that he may very well have to investigate the room rates at the Hog's Head for the next time that Penny can meet him. No one with whom he associates would think to find him there, he knows.
Penelope, feeling herself becoming hot and slick, is grateful for her robes. Her skin is tingling, and the blood rushing to her nipples is causing them to engorge painfully. She does not think of Percy. She wants to touch Professor Snape. He is all she can think about, and she cannot perceive how he knows this. Oh, no! He'll take points for my having distracted him like this, she worries. "I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to make . . . ." She stops speaking as the wizard reaches down to stroke the long, turgid length of himself through his ebony trousers. "Oh!" she gasps. "Oh, that's so . . . ."
Severus stops his caresses and reaches out to cup Penelope's face with his palm. "So what, Miss Clearwater? Do you enjoy watching me masturbate myself? Do you feel responsible for my concupiscence?" He pitches his voice—which he is aware is his only other benefic tool of seduction—captivatingly low and brushes his thumb over the quivering witch's lower lip. So full, so very soft, he thinks of her mouth. He is eager to put it to use. "Do you desire to slake this shamefully lustful state you have engendered in me by parading yourself about my classroom with that unfastened robe and disgracefully under-buttoned blouse of yours?" Oh, yes, I might very well take points, girl. "Well do you, Penelope?" he asks in a deliberate manner and is gratified by how the girl reacts to hearing the syllables of her name roll slowly off of his tongue.
Percy suspects that he might be perverted in some way and wonders what makes it impossible for him to ignore his inopportune lusts. He has just emerged from the washroom, and he hopes that he will not need to visit it again. Thank Merlin for silencing spells, he thinks, as he adjusts the waistband of his trousers and returns to his office. I am definitely booking a room at the Hog's Head. He knows now that he is going to have to propose to Penny earlier than he had intended. But long engagements are quite respectable.
Penelope knows that she should not, but she does feel accountable for how she has aroused Professor Snape—who smells of borage and bitterness, neroli and neglect, mugwort and maleness. Percy only ever smells of soap, she thinks. She blinks her eyes and bravely pulls the wizard's thumb into her mouth to swirl her tongue over the rough, sour-tasting pad of it. I like it, she thinks, thrusting aside any thoughts of her perfectly proper boyfriend as she fellates the Potions master's pertinacious digit. Tell me what to do, she entreats the wizard with her eyes.
Severus is hard-pressed not to sigh as Penelope manipulates his thumb with a delectably inexperienced enthusiasm. "Down on your knees," he tells her, as he withdraws his hand from her rapt, expectant face and unfastens his trousers. She obeys him at once. "Take me out," he growls, as Penelope circumspectly places her hands on his thighs to prepare herself. "Now, Penelope. Hesitate again and I shall do more than take points." The witch rolls over the waistband of his y-fronts and painstakingly pulls them down as far as his open trousers will allow her to do so. "Wh-what now?" she asks him. "Suck," he orders, and he bends his sharp fingernails into his palms to avoid crying out as she laps at his needful, regnant head. One hundred points to Ravenclaw. One hundred—unh!
Percy is feeling better as he contrives his plans. He wishes that the Hog's Head was not such a disreputable establishment, but he knows that he must be chary. People rely upon me. I must not jeopardize my position, he tells himself. It reassures him to think of how his compatriot has promised to look after Penny. The wizard, cognizant of Percy's consequence, has agreed to "provide Miss Clearwater with advanced instruction" to prevent her thoughts of him from overwhelming her delicate sensibilities. Professor Snape is a good man—misunderstood much as I am myself—and I am rather proud to know that I have inspired such loyalty in him, Percy thinks. "It is wonderful to be able to rely upon so worthy a colleague."