The Exposure

Chapter Thirty-Two

          With a couple hours to burn before dinner, you return to your dorm and drop your bag on the floor, plopping down on your bed. A deep sigh escapes your lips. You don't have anywhere to go home to for Christmas and Professor McGonagall had given you permission to remain at the university during the break. Perhaps Severus would be interested in spending the holiday together? Your brow knits together at the thought. What am I thinking, it's probably too soon. He wouldn't want to spend so much time together probably. I'm sure he has other things to do...other plans. 

          Could it hurt to ask?

          At dinner, you settle into your seat next to Peter and Rupert, finding it easier to talk to people you don't have to hide yourself from. It's a relief to have friends who know things about you others don't and accept you for them. You wonder if your romantic endeavor with Severus is something you could ever tell Angel, but remember that he had asked you not to share with others. You picture Angel's response to such an admission, "Are you serious? What is wrong with you?! He's an old, greasy dungeon bat! I'm going to tell Amy and Georgia and they will agree with me that you should break it off immediately, you're a victim here and he's using you for sex!" You shudder and think it best not to reveal for now.

          "I think I'm going to stay here at Hogwarts during the holiday," you tell Peter. "We can just let people think we went somewhere together. I don't know of a single other student or staff that will be here, aside from Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall," you take a bite of your potpie, the hot creamy goodness warming your shivering insides. "Works for me," Peter smiles. "Isn't that a bit lonely though, Y/n?" Rupert asks considerately. You shrug, "Honestly, I never really spent Christmases with family so it's not a huge deal. I'm actually a little excited to have my whole dorm to myself. It'll be so quiet," your eyes glazed over at the wonderful thought. As if on queue, the table where Angel, Georgia and Amy sit erupts into shrieking giggles at some whispered rumor shared between them. Rupert's eyebrows raise at the timing, "I hope you enjoy the respite."

          When Professor Snape enters, you set your sights on him. An intriguing thought enters your mind.

          Two can play that game.

          Without looking up at him and pretending to be engaged in conversation and interested in your food, you begin to imagine what it'd be like to turn the tables a bit and tie him up...his outstretched arms and legs fastened to the bed posts, completely restrained and at your mercy...his stern voice no use against the ropes binding him. Perhaps he would scold you and demand to be released and you would smirk at him, instead taking your time playing with him.

          You laugh convincingly at one of Rupert's quips.

          Perhaps I would climb atop him and straddle him, my hands would roam over his bare chest and shoulders, taking my time to feel as much of him as I want, for as long as I want. Then bending forward, I would kiss the corner of his mouth, my hair dangling down and tickling his neck. I'd nibble his earlobe between my teeth and place small kisses just below it, trailing them from his neck up to his jaw, across his cheek, then I'd finally kiss that perfect mouth. And I would kiss it slowly, passionately, my tongue tasting the depths of him.

          You turn and look directly at Snape and find him looking back at you, his eyes hooded and dark. So you are listening then? His brow creases, his mouth tightening as his gaze becomes narrowed and strict. Without breaking eye contact and wearing a smirk, boldly you imagine taking his full length in your mouth and choking yourself on it. He looks away quickly, re-engaging with the teachers at his table. No matter.