The Slave - Part One
Mar. 3rd, 2013 05:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teddy_radiatorSeveral weeks ago, the awesomely talented ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lemonade8 wrote to me and asked if I wanted to work on a collaboration art/drabble project with her. Seeing as I'd rather do collaborations than eat (and y'all KNOW how much I love to do that), she sent me a series of art pieces she'd already done, and the initial outline of a possible story, which I immediately turned dark and dirty and, well, she kept sending me these amazingly gorgeous art pieces and I just couldn't help myself!!!
This will read almost like a serial comic, so please give Lemonade some love, because she is incredible. Mods, could we get a lemonade8 tag?
Title: The Slave, Part One - an art/fic collaboration between Lemonade8 and Teddy Radiator
Challenge: Potions Challenge
Team: Death Eaters
Length: 11 X 100
Rating: R for language
Category: angst, drama
A/N: No money, no ownership. This first part has been beta'd by the awesomestgulik, the Queen of the betas.
He saw her the moment he arrived, and wondered why other men weren’t jockeying for her attention. She was certainly dressed to invite it. She nursed a red wine; there were several empty glasses on the counter.
It was unseasonably warm, but her clothing choice was about attracting heat, not dissipating it. She was like those tempting desserts in Honeydukes' window displays—the kind you know you shouldn’t order because it’s too rich for your tastes, and you’ll make yourself ill trying to finish.
Severus no longer worried about regrets, now that he could afford to indulge in such temptations.
~~~~~
She looked around the pub with restless vitality, her cinnamon eyes snapping with dissatisfaction. That explained the wide berth. She wasn’t in the mood for just any man.
She was tailor-made for him.
What the hell, he decided. It was late, he was tired and randy. He knew what a woman like her wanted. Some sardonic banter, some gutter dirty talk. A not-so casual brush against a pert nipple that winked at him through her sheer blouse, and she’d be ready to let him take her anywhere.
He thought of the alley behind the pub; yeah, that would do.
~~~~~
He ignored her as he approached the bar.
“Your usual, Snape?” the landlord rasped.
Severus nodded toward the woman, and his pint of bitter was placed on the counter beside her refilled glass.
She shifted; he could feel her eyes on him. “Perfect,” she drawled, irritated. “I can’t even get drunk in a khazi like this without running into someone I know.”
Severus sighed. “Merlin wept. Hermione bloody Know-it-all Granger.”
She glowered. “Let me guess, Snape—Harry sent you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Contrary to popular belief, Granger, the world doesn’t revolve around you,” he sneered contemptuously. “But I’ll admit, I’m curious.
~~~~~
“What brings a decorated hero of Hogwarts to a den of iniquity like this?”
“The usual,” she quipped.
Severus allowed his eyes to travel the length of her body, taking in her smooth skin, those luscious breasts. “Perhaps I can be of assistance after all,” he purred, sliding closer.
She snorted; an ugly sound. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She stared into the depths of her glass. “If I was looking for a bit of rough, I’d go to a higher class dump than this.” She sighed bitterly. “Every man I meet thinks with his prick. I expected better from you, Snape.”
~~~~~
He scoffed. “Really? I can’t imagine why. I’m no different than any other wizard; I proudly think with my cock. And while my genitals admittedly haven’t always shown the best judgment, they’ve usually exhibited good taste.”
She shot him a withering look, then turned away dismissively. “Yeah. Look, tell Harry I’m fine, and I’ll call him tomorrow, okay?”
“I told you, I’m not here at Potter’s behest.”
“You might as well be,” she snapped. Her resentment startled Severus. “You, me, the Ministry; the Wizarding World owes everything to the great Harry Potter, from whom all blessings flow, don’t you know?”
~~~~~
“You’ve certainly changed your tune since you were a student,” he drawled. “Life as a war hero not all it’s cracked up to be? Growing a little weary of the non-stop adulation?”
“Do give it a rest.” She slumped dejectedly. “I just wanted to go somewhere that’s never heard of Harry or Voldemort or the war—”
“Then exercise your right to talk about someone or something else, Granger,” he said uneasily. “It’s a free country.”
“That’s what you think,” she retorted. “Face it, Snape, in Wizarding Britain, I’m second-class and you’re a slave. I can even prove it.”
~~~~~
In her eyes he saw self-hatred, contempt, uncertain lust. She turned her arm over. Mudblood was carved into the pale flesh. “My accomplishments will always be secondary to blood status.”
Before he could react, she grabbed his arm, revealing the faded Dark Mark. “You’re still a slave to this,” she cooed, stroking it. “Wizarding Britain will condemn you for this mark the rest of your life.”
So, the little lioness hadn’t been declawed, then. Severus jerked his arm away. “Don’t mock me, girl.” he hissed warningly. “And don’t ever presume to know me. I’m no one’s slave, Granger. Not anymore.”
Suddenly, she leaned closer. “Be honest. Slavery wasn’t so bad, was it? Being forced to do those awful things. No responsibility, no accountability. Someone else’s puppet, acting on their whim.
“I mean, tell the truth: how many times did you do something completely despicable because you wanted to, then slid that blame onto old Voldie? How many times did you let that sick imagination of yours run wild, and told yourself, ‘the devil made me do it’?”
She gave him an ugly laugh. “More times than not, I’ll bet. I’m thinking you can be a right perv when properly motivated.”
~~~~~
He felt a momentary revulsion for her, which morphed into greasy lust. “You have no fucking idea what I’m capable of, little girl,” he growled softly.
Her smirk was obscene. “I’ve got some idea. Big bad Death Eater. Scourge of Muggle-borns.”
“I’m half-blood, Granger. And I don’t assault children.”
“No, you just insult them until they believe they’ll never be good enough for your impossible standards.”
Severus regarded her carefully, then downed his shot.
He’d once heard that the best stories all end with, ‘And then I got the hell out of there.’
This story wasn’t going to end well.
~~~~~
He turned to her, his decision made. “So you believe slavery and worth are defined by our marks?” he queried, his voice soft.
She shrugged, raising her glass to her lips. Severus intercepted it. “I think this discussion calls for something stronger than wine, Hermione.” He and the landlord exchanged a knowing look. “Two Jamesons, Rob.”
“Sure, Snape.”
Severus smiled and reached for the shotglass, brushing the back of his hand against the swell of Hermione’s erect nipple as if by accident. It was all the distraction he needed. She didn’t even notice the potion he slipped into her drink.
Rob watched the woman’s eyes flutter as the potion took effect. Snape gave him a cool, calculating look. “Still work your day job, Robert?” he asked. “I believe Miss Granger needs to be taught one last lesson by her old professor.”
Rob nodded toward the backdoor. “Sure. I normally ask customers to sign responsibility waivers, but in this case, I’ll make an exception.” He felt a pang of envy; the woman’s lovely breasts pressed against Snape’s chest. True, Snape’s arms were the only things holding her upright.
Certain girls found the greasy git attractive. Until they got to know him.
lemonade8 wrote to me and asked if I wanted to work on a collaboration art/drabble project with her. Seeing as I'd rather do collaborations than eat (and y'all KNOW how much I love to do that), she sent me a series of art pieces she'd already done, and the initial outline of a possible story, which I immediately turned dark and dirty and, well, she kept sending me these amazingly gorgeous art pieces and I just couldn't help myself!!!This will read almost like a serial comic, so please give Lemonade some love, because she is incredible. Mods, could we get a lemonade8 tag?
Title: The Slave, Part One - an art/fic collaboration between Lemonade8 and Teddy Radiator
Challenge: Potions Challenge
Team: Death Eaters
Length: 11 X 100
Rating: R for language
Category: angst, drama
A/N: No money, no ownership. This first part has been beta'd by the awesome
stgulik, the Queen of the betas.He saw her the moment he arrived, and wondered why other men weren’t jockeying for her attention. She was certainly dressed to invite it. She nursed a red wine; there were several empty glasses on the counter.
It was unseasonably warm, but her clothing choice was about attracting heat, not dissipating it. She was like those tempting desserts in Honeydukes' window displays—the kind you know you shouldn’t order because it’s too rich for your tastes, and you’ll make yourself ill trying to finish.
Severus no longer worried about regrets, now that he could afford to indulge in such temptations.
~~~~~
She looked around the pub with restless vitality, her cinnamon eyes snapping with dissatisfaction. That explained the wide berth. She wasn’t in the mood for just any man.
She was tailor-made for him.
What the hell, he decided. It was late, he was tired and randy. He knew what a woman like her wanted. Some sardonic banter, some gutter dirty talk. A not-so casual brush against a pert nipple that winked at him through her sheer blouse, and she’d be ready to let him take her anywhere.
He thought of the alley behind the pub; yeah, that would do.
~~~~~
He ignored her as he approached the bar.
“Your usual, Snape?” the landlord rasped.
Severus nodded toward the woman, and his pint of bitter was placed on the counter beside her refilled glass.
She shifted; he could feel her eyes on him. “Perfect,” she drawled, irritated. “I can’t even get drunk in a khazi like this without running into someone I know.”
Severus sighed. “Merlin wept. Hermione bloody Know-it-all Granger.”
She glowered. “Let me guess, Snape—Harry sent you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Contrary to popular belief, Granger, the world doesn’t revolve around you,” he sneered contemptuously. “But I’ll admit, I’m curious.
~~~~~
“What brings a decorated hero of Hogwarts to a den of iniquity like this?”
“The usual,” she quipped.
Severus allowed his eyes to travel the length of her body, taking in her smooth skin, those luscious breasts. “Perhaps I can be of assistance after all,” he purred, sliding closer.
She snorted; an ugly sound. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She stared into the depths of her glass. “If I was looking for a bit of rough, I’d go to a higher class dump than this.” She sighed bitterly. “Every man I meet thinks with his prick. I expected better from you, Snape.”
~~~~~
He scoffed. “Really? I can’t imagine why. I’m no different than any other wizard; I proudly think with my cock. And while my genitals admittedly haven’t always shown the best judgment, they’ve usually exhibited good taste.”
She shot him a withering look, then turned away dismissively. “Yeah. Look, tell Harry I’m fine, and I’ll call him tomorrow, okay?”
“I told you, I’m not here at Potter’s behest.”
“You might as well be,” she snapped. Her resentment startled Severus. “You, me, the Ministry; the Wizarding World owes everything to the great Harry Potter, from whom all blessings flow, don’t you know?”
~~~~~
“You’ve certainly changed your tune since you were a student,” he drawled. “Life as a war hero not all it’s cracked up to be? Growing a little weary of the non-stop adulation?”
“Do give it a rest.” She slumped dejectedly. “I just wanted to go somewhere that’s never heard of Harry or Voldemort or the war—”
“Then exercise your right to talk about someone or something else, Granger,” he said uneasily. “It’s a free country.”
“That’s what you think,” she retorted. “Face it, Snape, in Wizarding Britain, I’m second-class and you’re a slave. I can even prove it.”
~~~~~
In her eyes he saw self-hatred, contempt, uncertain lust. She turned her arm over. Mudblood was carved into the pale flesh. “My accomplishments will always be secondary to blood status.”
Before he could react, she grabbed his arm, revealing the faded Dark Mark. “You’re still a slave to this,” she cooed, stroking it. “Wizarding Britain will condemn you for this mark the rest of your life.”
So, the little lioness hadn’t been declawed, then. Severus jerked his arm away. “Don’t mock me, girl.” he hissed warningly. “And don’t ever presume to know me. I’m no one’s slave, Granger. Not anymore.”
Suddenly, she leaned closer. “Be honest. Slavery wasn’t so bad, was it? Being forced to do those awful things. No responsibility, no accountability. Someone else’s puppet, acting on their whim.
“I mean, tell the truth: how many times did you do something completely despicable because you wanted to, then slid that blame onto old Voldie? How many times did you let that sick imagination of yours run wild, and told yourself, ‘the devil made me do it’?”
She gave him an ugly laugh. “More times than not, I’ll bet. I’m thinking you can be a right perv when properly motivated.”
~~~~~
He felt a momentary revulsion for her, which morphed into greasy lust. “You have no fucking idea what I’m capable of, little girl,” he growled softly.
Her smirk was obscene. “I’ve got some idea. Big bad Death Eater. Scourge of Muggle-borns.”
“I’m half-blood, Granger. And I don’t assault children.”
“No, you just insult them until they believe they’ll never be good enough for your impossible standards.”
Severus regarded her carefully, then downed his shot.
He’d once heard that the best stories all end with, ‘And then I got the hell out of there.’
This story wasn’t going to end well.
~~~~~
He turned to her, his decision made. “So you believe slavery and worth are defined by our marks?” he queried, his voice soft.
She shrugged, raising her glass to her lips. Severus intercepted it. “I think this discussion calls for something stronger than wine, Hermione.” He and the landlord exchanged a knowing look. “Two Jamesons, Rob.”
“Sure, Snape.”
Severus smiled and reached for the shotglass, brushing the back of his hand against the swell of Hermione’s erect nipple as if by accident. It was all the distraction he needed. She didn’t even notice the potion he slipped into her drink.
Rob watched the woman’s eyes flutter as the potion took effect. Snape gave him a cool, calculating look. “Still work your day job, Robert?” he asked. “I believe Miss Granger needs to be taught one last lesson by her old professor.”
Rob nodded toward the backdoor. “Sure. I normally ask customers to sign responsibility waivers, but in this case, I’ll make an exception.” He felt a pang of envy; the woman’s lovely breasts pressed against Snape’s chest. True, Snape’s arms were the only things holding her upright.
Certain girls found the greasy git attractive. Until they got to know him.
