I, Snape - Chapter Eleven

That Glorious Summer

Sitting in my bedroom, I thought about the recent goings on with the women of Hogwarts: Hooch, Trelawney, Pince-- that odd dream with McGonagall and the even odder event of the feline, which I shall now attempt to forget forever.

And my mind was drawn back to her and the dealings that led me to my current pathetic state of affairs….


It was in our sixth year at Hogwarts that Lily and I finally resolved our differences. We had been partnered in Potions, and the subject suddenly became my favorite, second only to Defense against the Dark Arts. Quietly, when no one was looking or listening, I had apologized for my Mudblood comment. Her glowing eyes told me she had accepted my explanation: that I had spoken out of the heat of the moment from my fear and humiliation of that day. After the semester ended, I spent almost the entire summer sitting alone and thinking about Lily. Then one day, I received an owl from her:

“Meet me in Diagon Alley at Fortesques’ next Friday at 1 PM. Wear Muggle clothing.

Lily”

By return owl, I sent the message:

“Yes, I shall be there.

SS”

I knew she had had a falling out with the Marauders just before the end of our school year. I hoped that she had had the conscience to condemn them for their attempt on my life. Still I had to ask myself, was this a set up or was she sincere about wanting to see me? On reflection, I knew she would never betray me. I floo’ed to Hogsmeade to purchase some Muggle type clothing.

The saleslady was very helpful and I chose something called buttoned fly jeans. No way was I allowing that strange Muggle device, a zipper, near my privates. I also wore a colorful button down shirt. It felt awkward, yet exciting. If my father ever found out, he’d probably beat me to within an inch of my life. I made my plans carefully to escape for the day and not be found out.

I floo’ed to the Leaky Cauldron and exited into the alley. There she was waiting for me, seated at a table out front of the ice cream parlor. She was also dressed as a Muggle under her robes. I slowly walked over and past her. I dared not look at her in case anyone noticed us. She cleared her throat and said, “I think you dropped this.”

She handed me a flyer to a Muggle cinema advertising a “B ‘Movie’ Marathon”. On the back was written, “See you in five minutes.” She got up and quickly walked away. I stared at the Quidditch supplies in the window of Quality Quidditch for a few minutes and then headed for Muggle London.

She was buying tickets at the theatre. She turned to me without a sound. Her cheeks were burning. She handed me a ticket and we walked in, trying not to seem like we knew each other. Once inside she snuck up a cordoned off stairwell to the balcony. I waited until the old Muggle running the concession stand looked away and followed her.

It was dark upstairs and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. There she was in the centre back of the balcony. I sat down next to her. My entire body was humming with excitement. She was so beautiful. I didn’t know what to expect and I didn’t care. She had contacted me and we had a few hours to be alone together, away from the prejudice of our world.

The first “movie”, my introduction to Muggle cinema, was Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. I was not impressed, that was until Lily put her hand on my knee. I inhaled sharply. I looked over at her and found her eyes riveted on the screen. She was wearing a cotton jumper and a short plaid skirt with boots. I never thought of Muggle clothes as erotic, but suddenly I had a keen awareness of how easy it would be to slide my hand up and under that skirt. I also thought about that jumper and what lay beneath.

I stretched out my arm and let it fall across the back of her seat. She leaned in close to me and I could smell her fragrance. I suddenly had a problem swallowing because there was a lump in my throat. I put my arm around her shoulders and, for the first time, felt her soft warmth under me. I wanted to weep with the intense sensations coursing through my body. I was no longer looking at the screen but was examining her profile. Her nose was so straight and her cheekbones so high. And then she turned her head to me. It was too dark to make out the intense green of her eyes, but my memory provided the detail.

I leaned closer to her and our lips met briefly. I gasped and pulled away. I had never experienced such bliss. They say that Slytherin girls are easy. Such had never been my experience. That kiss with Lily was my first kiss and I locked it away in my heart to treasure forever. Fifteen minutes later we kissed again, for a longer time. My breathing was quite heavy and I felt ashamed that I sounded like I had been running several miles. But then I felt her tongue straining against my lips and I allowed it access. We were open mouth kissing, an intimacy I had never imagined in even my most heated fantasies about the opposite sex. My sex was straining and leaking against the hard blue material of my trousers. I wanted to sob because the emotions I felt were simply too intense to contain. I kept silent not wishing to be detected and thrown out of the theatre, for I was certain our being up there in the balcony was quite illicit.

The first movie ended and a new one started, “Planet of the Cat Women.” Still kissing, one of my hands reached under her jumper and stroked her breast. She moaned into my mouth and I had a sudden fear that I might actually orgasm into my jeans, which were very tight now and rubbing. Imagine my shock to feel her hand, which had been first on my knee and then on my thigh start to unbutton the front of my trousers. She released me from the heavy blue material and began to caress my sex. At one point she reached in and even cupped my balls. I did start to cry. I reached into my back pocket and removed a large handkerchief. I knew I wouldn’t last long. Her touches turned into strokes and I began to thrust myself into her hand. She was well practiced it seemed-- she knew exactly what to do to bring me to an incredible climax. She took my handkerchief and expertly used it to catch every bit of semen.

I kissed her again and then sobbed into her hair. “I love you,” I saw her shoot me a look. I didn’t know if I had said the right or wrong thing. I just knew it was the only thing I could say and it had come from the depth of my being.

She took my hand and placed it between her legs. I discovered that under the short skirt she wore no underwear. She was incredibly wet and slick. She guided my hand to her nub and showed me how she liked being touched. She took my fingers and straightened them, forcing them deep into her. I shagged her with my fingers while using my thumb to stimulate her nub. I watched her face as her breathing shortened and she began to climax. I felt her slippery liquids spill all over my hand. I brought my hand to my mouth and tasted her. It was salty and sweet and musky. I kissed her over and over. Her kisses were less intense now and eventually I realized something was wrong.

She said, “I’m sorry,” and she left.



Years later when I taught her son Occlumency, I was careful to store away my memories of Lily. How that day after the DADA O.W.L. I discovered that she cared about me and I disgraced myself, by calling her a bad name. He found that memory, but not the two others; my first and only sexual experience with his mother, and that horrible night when she gave her life to spare her baby and I tried to kill myself. I wonder what would have happened if he ever did find out. Yes, Potter, I finger fucked your mum in the balcony of a Muggle cinema after she gave me the best hand job of my life. Would that totally blow your mind? I suppose we shall never find out.

The memory helps me to clarify my position. I have achieved my goal in this life. Lily is avenged. Even if it was through Potter, I flatter myself to believe that I served no small part in helping him defeat Voldemort for good.

Sirius Black, useless piece of rubbish that he was, had the good sense to bow out before he embarrassed himself totally. Should I, the washed-up loser as Sibyll Trelawney so astutely puts it, have any less sense? Oh Trelawney, you evil, wicked woman, with your odd spirits that choose to channel through you. Excellent advice, eh what? The purple potion. The very one that I spent brewing my first two days fresh out of Azkaban. How wise your spirits are.

For the first time in weeks I have a sense of peace and completion. My goals are set, and my reward is clearly ahead of me. Ah, but when and how shall I get rid of the Granger girl? I have a feeling that she will not go easily. Dumbledore has seen to that.
 

On to Chapter Twelve
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