FIC: "Experiment," Severus/Lily, R
Apr. 5th, 2006 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephanometraTitle: Experiment
Rating: R
Pairing: Severus/Lily
Warnings: Not a happy story in the slightest. Rather tragic, actually.
Disclaimer: [insert standard don't-sue-me stuff here]
Author's Note: Written in a pinch for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dizilla as a part of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hp_clover. Much less straightforward than anything I've written before. Thanks to sioniann for the beta. Snoy, you rock my socks.
Wanting her teaches him what real want is.
- - -
Severus usually works alone, because there is an odd number of students in the class, and he enjoys the solitude more than he resents the fact that nobody will pair with him. Today, however, he grudgingly vacates half his accustomed bench at Professor Slughorn's request, because Lily Evans' normal partner is once again ill.
He doesn't like her, because he doesn't like anyone, but at least she's never blown up a cauldron or poisoned anyone, which is more than the vast majority of his classmates – even those in his own House, who damned well ought to know better – can say. He just hopes she keeps quiet.
Staring into his cauldron, he stirs the mixture widdershins and reaches for the flask of powdered moonstone on the desk, upending it into the potion and immediately stepping back as a cloud of vapor appears.
Evans leans over once the smoke clears. "You've added too much."
Severus scoffs at her. "I added precisely the amount I wished to add."
"Did you."
"It's an experiment." He stirs the potion again, clockwise this time, and then makes a soft noise of pleasure as the consistency changes. "Perfect," he says, ladling out a small bit into a vial.
Her eyes widen. "You can't possibly be finished already! There's another half-hour of stirring left to do." She holds out her hand. "May I?"
Obligingly, he hands her the sample.
She peers at the liquid, holds it up to the light, wafts the fumes. "I've never heard of anyone managing a flawless Draught of Peace in so little time!" She hands it back, holding onto it a bit longer than necessary so their fingers touch. "Extraordinary."
Suspicious of the praise, he searches her eyes for any hint of artifice, but she is genuinely impressed. He absolutely does not know what to say.
Then she smiles, guilelessly radiant in her happiness, the flecks of grey and gold in her eyes catching the light. His breath catches, and the corners of his mouth twitch into a stupid little half-smile of his own.
Nobody has ever looked at him that way before.
- - -
She doesn't care that his father is a Muggle and his mother a disgrace; she doesn't ridicule his ill-fitting robes or his greasy hair. He is not "that twitchy git" to her. When he speaks, she listens, and when he says something witty, she always gets the joke. She enjoys his company. She thinks he is brilliant.
She is the only real friend he has.
- - -
The next time Lupin misses Transfiguration in the morning, Severus purposefully goes early to Potions and sets up his cauldron on half of the desk.
When Lily sets her things down next to his, he forcibly restrains himself from grinning like an idiot.
"Hello," she says. "Are we doing another experiment today?"
He runs a finger down the page, reading the recipe. "Always."
"Excellent. What are you going to do?"
Severus gives her a half-smile. "I haven't decided yet."
- - -
He watches and learns her, studying the grace of her form and the character of her face with his eyes while his fingers ache to touch. She laughs when she catches him looking, eyes lit with delight, and when she leans close to kiss him he can feel her smile into his mouth.
- - -
Once at dinner, Potter jumps up on the table and recites a long and extremely bad poem about how beautiful Lily is and won't she please go to Hogsmeade with him next weekend because he loves her so much and she totally doesn't know what she's missing.
Entranced, Severus watches from across the room as she Silences him, ties him up using Incarcerous, charms him a curly pink tail, and shoves an apple into his mouth.
"And just so you don't mistake my meaning, Potter – that means NO!" she yells, before turning on her heel and flouncing out of the room.
The Great Hall erupts in laughter.
Severus can hardly breathe.
- - -
She is his goddess, and he worships her, reverently mapping her face and body with his hands and lips. He discovers the places she likes to be touched – the insides of her elbows, the dip of her collarbone, the soft undersides of her breasts – and she comes undone for him, calling his name as he moves inside her.
When she lies sated and languorous beneath him, she watches him through hooded eyes as he kisses her mouth, and the possessiveness in her response thrills him.
- - -
Upon entering the library, Severus' heart skips a beat when he sees Lily sitting at the table where he usually studies. He sits across and two seats away, watching her from behind the curtain of his hair.
She looks up when he pulls out his chair, and she smiles as though she is pleased to see him. He nods and turns to his books, pretending to study as he tries to think of something witty or intelligent or interesting to say.
Just as he settles on "Evening, Evans," he hears a commotion at the library's entrance; Potter, Pettigrew, and Lupin have entered the library, and as usual, Lupin is trying to get them to shut up before Madam Pince turns them out.
Lupin comes round to their table and sets a hand on Lily's shoulder. "Rounds tonight, Lily. Come on, it's almost half eight already."
She glowers at Potter and Pettigrew, who are still being irritatingly rambunctious. "It's Tuesday, Remus. Rounds tomorrow."
"We switched with Dobbs and McKinnon, remember?"
"Oh, that's right. Damn, I was hoping to get this done tonight." She gathers her things and pushes back from the table.
Potter picks up one of her books and leans back against the table, leafing through it. "Charms? I finished that essay a week ago. You can copy mine if you like."
"I will do nothing of the sort, Potter." She snatches her book out of his hands and slips it into her satchel.
Potter steps back, hands up in surrender. "Just figured I'd offer, is all. Why are you revising with him" – he gestures in Severus' direction – "anyway? He's arse at Charms."
She makes a dismissive noise. "He just sat down."
"You should do your homework with us instead," Potter says, and Pettigrew nods vigorously. "And here, I can carry that." He shoulders her schoolbag.
She lets him.
Watching them leave, Severus grips his quill so hard it snaps in half.
- - -
He punishes her, sometimes. He would never hit her – no, never that – but he degrades her, saying slut and bitch as he tangles his fingers in her hair and forces his cock down her throat. If he fucks her, it's fast and rough.
But even though she cringes as his fingers bruise her hips and cries when he calls her whore, she never fights him.
After, he begs her forgiveness with soft kisses and tender caresses, apologizing in pleasure rather than words. Her embrace is a benediction, and her moans are the sweetest of absolutions.
- - -
Severus' heart sinks when Slughorn announces that all of the Summer term work will be done individually.
"You're not allowed a partner on your O.W.L.s, you know! Best to practice on your own!"
Lily never sits next to him again.
When she passes him in the halls, sometimes she smiles, but usually she doesn't.
Severus wonders if she'd still like to hear about his experiments, but he never quite finds the courage to find out.
- - -
He bites his tongue against her name when he spills into his hand, and after the racing of his heart quiets, he curls up around his pillow and curses himself for his foolish obsession.
He refuses to call it love.
Feedback is, as always, adored.
Rating: R
Pairing: Severus/Lily
Warnings: Not a happy story in the slightest. Rather tragic, actually.
Disclaimer: [insert standard don't-sue-me stuff here]
Author's Note: Written in a pinch for
dizilla as a part of hp_clover. Much less straightforward than anything I've written before. Thanks to sioniann for the beta. Snoy, you rock my socks.Wanting her teaches him what real want is.
Severus usually works alone, because there is an odd number of students in the class, and he enjoys the solitude more than he resents the fact that nobody will pair with him. Today, however, he grudgingly vacates half his accustomed bench at Professor Slughorn's request, because Lily Evans' normal partner is once again ill.
He doesn't like her, because he doesn't like anyone, but at least she's never blown up a cauldron or poisoned anyone, which is more than the vast majority of his classmates – even those in his own House, who damned well ought to know better – can say. He just hopes she keeps quiet.
Staring into his cauldron, he stirs the mixture widdershins and reaches for the flask of powdered moonstone on the desk, upending it into the potion and immediately stepping back as a cloud of vapor appears.
Evans leans over once the smoke clears. "You've added too much."
Severus scoffs at her. "I added precisely the amount I wished to add."
"Did you."
"It's an experiment." He stirs the potion again, clockwise this time, and then makes a soft noise of pleasure as the consistency changes. "Perfect," he says, ladling out a small bit into a vial.
Her eyes widen. "You can't possibly be finished already! There's another half-hour of stirring left to do." She holds out her hand. "May I?"
Obligingly, he hands her the sample.
She peers at the liquid, holds it up to the light, wafts the fumes. "I've never heard of anyone managing a flawless Draught of Peace in so little time!" She hands it back, holding onto it a bit longer than necessary so their fingers touch. "Extraordinary."
Suspicious of the praise, he searches her eyes for any hint of artifice, but she is genuinely impressed. He absolutely does not know what to say.
Then she smiles, guilelessly radiant in her happiness, the flecks of grey and gold in her eyes catching the light. His breath catches, and the corners of his mouth twitch into a stupid little half-smile of his own.
Nobody has ever looked at him that way before.
She doesn't care that his father is a Muggle and his mother a disgrace; she doesn't ridicule his ill-fitting robes or his greasy hair. He is not "that twitchy git" to her. When he speaks, she listens, and when he says something witty, she always gets the joke. She enjoys his company. She thinks he is brilliant.
She is the only real friend he has.
The next time Lupin misses Transfiguration in the morning, Severus purposefully goes early to Potions and sets up his cauldron on half of the desk.
When Lily sets her things down next to his, he forcibly restrains himself from grinning like an idiot.
"Hello," she says. "Are we doing another experiment today?"
He runs a finger down the page, reading the recipe. "Always."
"Excellent. What are you going to do?"
Severus gives her a half-smile. "I haven't decided yet."
He watches and learns her, studying the grace of her form and the character of her face with his eyes while his fingers ache to touch. She laughs when she catches him looking, eyes lit with delight, and when she leans close to kiss him he can feel her smile into his mouth.
Once at dinner, Potter jumps up on the table and recites a long and extremely bad poem about how beautiful Lily is and won't she please go to Hogsmeade with him next weekend because he loves her so much and she totally doesn't know what she's missing.
Entranced, Severus watches from across the room as she Silences him, ties him up using Incarcerous, charms him a curly pink tail, and shoves an apple into his mouth.
"And just so you don't mistake my meaning, Potter – that means NO!" she yells, before turning on her heel and flouncing out of the room.
The Great Hall erupts in laughter.
Severus can hardly breathe.
She is his goddess, and he worships her, reverently mapping her face and body with his hands and lips. He discovers the places she likes to be touched – the insides of her elbows, the dip of her collarbone, the soft undersides of her breasts – and she comes undone for him, calling his name as he moves inside her.
When she lies sated and languorous beneath him, she watches him through hooded eyes as he kisses her mouth, and the possessiveness in her response thrills him.
Upon entering the library, Severus' heart skips a beat when he sees Lily sitting at the table where he usually studies. He sits across and two seats away, watching her from behind the curtain of his hair.
She looks up when he pulls out his chair, and she smiles as though she is pleased to see him. He nods and turns to his books, pretending to study as he tries to think of something witty or intelligent or interesting to say.
Just as he settles on "Evening, Evans," he hears a commotion at the library's entrance; Potter, Pettigrew, and Lupin have entered the library, and as usual, Lupin is trying to get them to shut up before Madam Pince turns them out.
Lupin comes round to their table and sets a hand on Lily's shoulder. "Rounds tonight, Lily. Come on, it's almost half eight already."
She glowers at Potter and Pettigrew, who are still being irritatingly rambunctious. "It's Tuesday, Remus. Rounds tomorrow."
"We switched with Dobbs and McKinnon, remember?"
"Oh, that's right. Damn, I was hoping to get this done tonight." She gathers her things and pushes back from the table.
Potter picks up one of her books and leans back against the table, leafing through it. "Charms? I finished that essay a week ago. You can copy mine if you like."
"I will do nothing of the sort, Potter." She snatches her book out of his hands and slips it into her satchel.
Potter steps back, hands up in surrender. "Just figured I'd offer, is all. Why are you revising with him" – he gestures in Severus' direction – "anyway? He's arse at Charms."
She makes a dismissive noise. "He just sat down."
"You should do your homework with us instead," Potter says, and Pettigrew nods vigorously. "And here, I can carry that." He shoulders her schoolbag.
She lets him.
Watching them leave, Severus grips his quill so hard it snaps in half.
He punishes her, sometimes. He would never hit her – no, never that – but he degrades her, saying slut and bitch as he tangles his fingers in her hair and forces his cock down her throat. If he fucks her, it's fast and rough.
But even though she cringes as his fingers bruise her hips and cries when he calls her whore, she never fights him.
After, he begs her forgiveness with soft kisses and tender caresses, apologizing in pleasure rather than words. Her embrace is a benediction, and her moans are the sweetest of absolutions.
Severus' heart sinks when Slughorn announces that all of the Summer term work will be done individually.
"You're not allowed a partner on your O.W.L.s, you know! Best to practice on your own!"
Lily never sits next to him again.
When she passes him in the halls, sometimes she smiles, but usually she doesn't.
Severus wonders if she'd still like to hear about his experiments, but he never quite finds the courage to find out.
He bites his tongue against her name when he spills into his hand, and after the racing of his heart quiets, he curls up around his pillow and curses himself for his foolish obsession.
He refuses to call it love.
