Chapter Text
He wasn’t particularly fond of these types of places… and that was putting it nicely. But his present company did, and it was absolutely ludicrous. The damned hypocrisy of this man. Who would’ve thought… Lucius Malfoy enjoying the entertainment of exotic dancers. Well, that part wasn’t so hard to believe… but the sheer fact that they were muggle dancers? Malfoy’s words still echoed in the back of his mind the first night they’d found themselves at the doorstep of the establishment.
“Pray tell our reason for being here,” Snape had asked upon seeing unmistakable sign. The fool, Snape thought. All it would take… would be for the Dark Lord to find out about their whereabouts, and they’d both be lying in a cemetery somewhere.
The silver-haired man turned to him, reached out with a firm hand that had landed on Snape’s shoulder, and gave him one of those famous, mischievous Malfoy grins.
“You know, as well as I, that this-” Malfoy’s other arm sweeps across their path, as if he’s presenting the building in some kind of spectacle. “- is one of the few things these muggles are good for,” he finishes, squeezing Snape’s shoulder and leaving him behind in the darkness.
That had been nearly five months ago, and although Voldemort had found their new escapades downright comical, Snape was still cautious of that split-second change. One minute the Dark Lord would find it fascinating, funny even… and the next… he could find it abominable. Punishable by death, perhaps?
Severus didn’t want to find out.
As the two of them navigate through the dimly lit building, Snape keeps his eyes focused on the ground ahead of them. He knows the routine well enough now. They get a drink at the ostentatious lounge, Lucius always bellyaching of how watered-down muggle liquor was, and they normally seat themselves far enough from the spotlight not to be targeted directly. But not tonight...
He’s deft enough to know that muggle music is… different, obnoxious… but Lucius seems to thrum along to the foreign beats as the girls come onto the stage. The first time Snape had watched one of these girls dance and undress themselves, Lucius had pestered him for being so conflicted with it all.
“Loosen up a little. You’re scaring them all away,” Lucius had scolded, taking a long sip of his whiskey.
“These girls look young enough to be my students, or your daughter if you’d ever have-”
“Don’t tell me you have suddenly have morals.”
Severus had opened his mouth to retort with some sarcastic remark, but silence grips his vocal cords with an iron-fist when a slender brunette stalks up to Lucius, her small hand tracing the lapel of his black blazer. Her attire, or lack thereof, was dark green and lace.
“I’ve never seen you in here before,” her voice is so soft, Severus barely hears her. And as he watches through the corner of his eye as Malfoy’s hand lightly grips the flesh of this girl’s thigh, riding higher until he’s pushing her to sit comfortably on his lap… Snape wonders if Narcissa knows what her husband is up to.
“An introduction is in order, then.”
Shaking the memory from his head, he brings his sweating glass of bourbon to his lips. An absurd amount of currency sits in front Lucius, who is generous with what he presents to each girl that gives him attention. And as always, it’s a lot of attention when they realize just how much money he has.
It’s as predictable as ever, girl after girl, and soon… Snape’s glass is nearing empty. He’s just about to push himself up out of his chair, to get himself and Lucius another drink, when something in the air changes. There’s no mistaking the magic that hangs in the air, and he looks at his companion hastily. Surely, a wizard as seasoned as Lucius would feel it too, the undeniable denseness of the space around them.
But the other man is clouded by the muggle liquor already, and Severus wants to fucking howl.
‘What a fucking prat,’ he thinks, watching the other man think nothing more of the girl currently swaying on the stage.
He can feel the hair underneath the sleeves of his own black blazer stand on their ends. The music that plays above them changes… muffled, abstract guitar strings are so loud, that he can feel the vibrations through the floor. It’s ever so slightly a little harder to breathe.
She strolls closer once the raspy voice in the song starts singing, and he swallows hard.
“Take you like a drug. I taste you on my tongue.”
His gaze falls to her shoes, a frayed pair of black Chuck’s… the same shoes he remembers flashing through the hallways of Hogwarts. Except she’s not the adolescent girl from years ago anymore, and instead of Ravenclaw blue, she’s covered in black. And she’s not twirling her wand about his potions classroom… she’s twirling her nearly naked body around a metal pole, instead.
He realizes that he’s clutching his empty glass so hard, it could shatter at any moment. Even in his state of shock, he’s thankful that Lucius hasn’t caught onto his change in demeanor.
She flattens her back against the narrow pole, facing the two of them. One of her hands reaches above, wraps around the pole, and she rolls her hips in time with the music. Her dark eyes, decorated with darkened makeup are in stark contrast of her pale skin.
Her dark hair is straightened, and flies freely as she whips her head to one side. She’s slowly sliding toward the stage, her knees bending into impressive angles until they, too, hit the floor. The bright, white light that once illuminated her toned body suddenly resolves, and in it’s place, a deep red.
“Go ahead and cry little girl.”
He sucks in a shaky breath, prays to whatever higher power above that she doesn’t recognize him, but she turns her head just in time to catch his greedy gaze. He expects her to waver, to falter in her place when she realizes it’s him… just like that one day he had unexpectedly called on her in lecture for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her lips had parted, all color drained from her face, dark eyes wide… and staring up at him in fear.
But this time, she locks eyes with him, and hooks each of her thumbs under the waistband of her black lace shorts. They ease down her thighs, a tad bit more robust since the last time he had seen her in those black pleaded skirts.
He shuts his eyes.
He was only a man, had desires like any other... but this was so wrong.
And why her? He had never been the type to romanticize or give his students a second-thought. What about her made him squirm in his seat?
Then he remembers… just as she looks up at him through hooded eyes, and subtly gives him a grin.
Gods, she had reminded him so much of Lily… years ago; the same mannerisms, the same innocent curiosity, the same God damned smile. But that was then, and now? She appeared to be someone entirely different.
He has no more time to argue internally with himself about how absurd this all was, because she’s growing closer. Her eyes are trained on her old professor, but she moves towards Lucius. Even still, she’s close enough for Severus to catch a trace of her perfume.
‘Exquisite’, he thinks. It smells just as fresh as when she had first sprayed it onto her skin, and he figures she’s used some sort of spell to keep the scent potent. His mouth is dry, his heart threatening to bruise his rib-cage.
She’s kneeling in front of Malfoy, knees spread wide as she toys with the straps of her bralet. Snape can feel the glass still clutched in his hand suddenly give way, and he clears his throat… weakly. He reaches for Malfoy’s dry glass as well, muttering something about getting them more drinks. The other man barely registers what’s being said to him.
Striding up to the bar, he places the empty glasses down onto the counter with such force, he catches a glare from a concealed man… one big enough to effortlessly lift both him and Lucius, and throw them promptly out the door. So he gathers his emotions, puts them into check quickly, and flags down a bartender. He spits out the order, for two glasses of whiskey this time… and the strongest they’ve got, poured neat. When he’s presented with two tumblers of the amber liquid, he grabs at one, and turns.
His eyes are closed, thinking this is just some perverse dream… a nightmare. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
But when his eyes open, her dark eyes are zeroed in on him… all while her hand is buried deep in Malfoy’s long hair, keeping his head close to her chest.
Snape nearly drops the glass tumbler.
She’s got one finger pressed firmly against her mouth, and his tongue rests heavy against his own bottom lip. Dragging it down her lips, her mouth parts in such a seductive manner, that he has to avert his eyes again.
‘He doesn’t know who I am… or what I am. Stay. Quiet.’
He hears her voice, clear as day, in his head… over the loud music. And he can’t help but look at her again, then down the rest of his whiskey.
–
He’s relieved when she finally disappears behind the thick, velvet curtains. Another girl is flaunting onto the stage, but Lucius has no interest in her. Abandoning his chair as well, he finds Snape still at the bar, hunched over his third glass of liquor.
“You’re not poised to make many friends here, you know,” Lucius says, motioning to the bar as he palms the untouched glass of whiskey. That was the last thing Severus wanted… what he wanted, was to go back to his flat, to light himself a fire and sink into a book or two, or three.
“All the same,” the dark haired man says carelessly. “How much longer until you’ve met your… quota.”
Blue eyes burn into dark brown, and before Lucius can speak, she slides between them. What impeccable fucking timing, he thinks.
“You missed the show,” she says to Snape, watching in satisfaction as he clenches his jaw to keep his mouth shut. “Do I bore you?” The mouth on her. Lucius raises a curious eyebrow, tonguing his whiskey in amusement as he watches the exchange before him. This was the most contact Severus had made with one of the girls here, and in his intoxicated state, Severus was certain the rest of Malfoy’s money would go to this girl if she’d promise to accommodate them… both.
But something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time starts to bubble beneath the surface.
Jealously.
He didn’t want to share her with Lucius… and he didn’t know why. Which was equally as infuriating.
“On the contrary,” he manages, tensing when he feels her hand on his arm. He feels as if he’s burning underneath the blazer and long-sleeved black button down. Before he knows what’s happening, Lucius is handing her a banded stack of muggle money, and she’s pulling Severus away from the bar.
“Then let me show you what you missed,” she says wickedly, winking at Lucius as she tugs Severus along.
He regains composure as she leads them through a hallway, opens a door to a private room, and pulls him along with her. And he spits out the outrage almost instantly.
“Are you out of your mind,” he asks harshly, pulling his arm from her grasp as if she’d burned him. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?” Their positions, somehow, are reversed. She’s the one pressed up against the door now, but he doesn’t scare her. She pushes back against his chest, catching him off guard. He stumbles back a bit, but stands his ground. How dare he judge her… after all the horrible things he had done to her classmates… to her friends.
“I could ask you the same damn thing,” she says angrily, invading his space. He stumbles backwards, feels the back of his knees hit something soft, and falls back against a sturdy chair. In this light, he’s just as she had remembered. Long, dark hair… broad chest, narrow hips… long, skilled fingers.
“I’m here,” he starts, with a tight jaw, his deep voice doing something… unfamiliar to her. The normal patrons of this place didn’t have her shifting her weight to ease the pressure between her legs. “- because your big tipper out there wanted to come,” he says with venom. She cocks an eyebrow, much to his dismay. Was she… enjoying this?
She’s about to come back with a witty remark, when she sees something else in him… something he’s fighting for control over.
He knew she was a smart girl, nearly smarter than that know-it-all Granger, so he assumes she already knows. So he swallows hard again… choosing the words that come out of his mouth carefully.
“He’s back,” Snape stresses, his brown eyes begging for her to understand just who he means. And she does… instantly. “And he’ll kill you if he finds out about this,” he motions to the room about them, to the compromising position their in. He realizes that her clothing has changed, and when she’d have time to do it, he doesn’t know. But instead of the basic black lace, she’s got navy blue on.
“But not you,” she questions, with narrowed eyes.
“I am here for mere ‘entertainment’,” he says, quoting his last word with his fingers. “And you…” His voice drifts, as do his eyes… down her body. “- are trying to make a living in their world.”