I was bored. Someone showed me this. I judged it.

I am the law.

—

Author: Athea (athea_holmes@yahoo.com) 
Title: Little Miss Mary, part one 
Date: December 4, 2004 
Universe: Harry Potter alternate universe 
Pairing: Harry/Severus 
Warnings: Okay, let’s see how many warnings I can come up with [Always a good sign]. Underage (this is the biggie) [Oh christ], cross-dressing, kinky shoes/clothes, sex – lots and lots of sex [Well, there’s a shocker], character deaths (just the Dursleys [WOAH, can I get a spoiler tag over here?]), bestiality (if wolf and dog count [Pretty sure that counts, yes. What with them being beasts…]), odd pairings, Mpreg, pagan rituals. I think that’s about it. 
Note: I have no clue where this came from but it’s right outside anything I’ve written before. I’m frantically trying to make up for lost writing time due to the move. And when the Muse [I think you mean “muse” not “Muse”, although I’m sure this will have the suck power of a supermassive black hole] kicks loose, she does it big time! 
Thanks: Much appreciation to Tinneantoo who did a fast beta for me and caught all kinds of mistakes [Not enough]. Any left over are my fault entirely. Thanks, Tinn! 
********* Harry *********

Explosions.

Screams. [Sorry, that was me]

Fear slapped me so hard I crumbled into a small ball. [Yep, just like with me again]

Stop, they screamed.

Stop, scream.

Stop, the silence was worse. [I don’t even know what you’re talking about at this point, missy]

Rolling behind the kitchen counter, I wished I could fit under it.

The screaming returned but this time it sounded like Dudley.

Go away.

Leave us alone.

Go away.

Leave me alone.

No, no, no, no, no . . . [It hurts]

Pain like knives carving my flesh made me gasp aloud.

No, no, no . . . [Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts]

“Potter!” The low hiss didn’t even frighten me; somehow I knew who it was even though the screaming has [Pick a tense, my dear] grown into a soulless shriek.

Opening my eyes, I found a potion stained hand [I wouldn’t call that a potion stain…] reaching for me and I rolled to him. I was shaking all over and I could hardly see through the tears. My nose was running and I wiped it off on my sleeve.

It was bloody and I wondered why until I realized there’s blood everywhere. Strong arms enfolded me into a dark robe [Here we go] and only then did I realize how badly I was shaking.

“Silence,” the sharp tone was little more than a whisper but I obeyed him at once, trying to stop my sniffing and gasping. He drug [Drug? Seriously? Surely that comes later] me across the kitchen tile and out the back door before wrapping me in his cloak [For a second time] and lifting me in his arms.

I felt . . . safe [You’re going to kick yourself for thinking that, mate] . . . so very safe that I laid my head on the broad shoulder [They always have broad shoulders] and shut my eyes. Nothing bad could happen to me now [Except all the sex that you’re about to get thrust upon you]. Professor Snape might not like me very much but he had protected me for the last four years and I trusted him.

Maybe I should tell him that?

********* Severus *********

I could hardly believe I got him out of there in time. Cutting it fine simply begged the question – Harry almost got sliced and diced by my fellow Death Eaters while under the supposed wards of his Aunt’s blood [Where’s the question that was begged, then?]. I barely kept my shudder from disturbing him. The blood was still there, unfortunately there was none left in her body. Or the father’s or son’s come to that.

Stepping off the property, I ducked into the waiting Volvo with the tinted windows [DANGER, DANGER]. Harry clung tightly to me, still not having said a word. Probably in shock, I decided and took a deep breath, trying to set him onto the seat away from me. That got a reaction from him and for a brief moment he strangled me.

“Potter, I need to see if you’re hurt.” I found myself stroking his hair, disliking the feel of matted blood coating the silken strands. Pulling my wand [Wink] from an inside pocket, I muttered a quick diagnostician spell taught to me by Poppy many years ago. Anemic, bruised and hungry [“Cameron, it’s not lupus. The kid just hasn’t had his cereal yet. Push steroids and prep him for surgery!”] but not injured was the result.

“You’re going to be fine, P-Harry but we need to get you cleaned up so we can get out of here.” I felt a small nod and a slight lessening of his grip. Casting a hasty cleaning incantation, I decided to go with a wardrobe change, too. They were going to be looking for him.

Another spell and he started and wiggled a little at the new feel [Please, lets not start this now. I’ve just had dinner]. Even though I’d rarely been in such danger, I couldn’t resist indulging in my secret fantasy kink [The kink is sex isn’t it? I bet it’s sex]. He might hex [You spelled sex wrong there, babe] me or he might be in such shock he’d let it go for now. Slowly he pulled a few inches away and looked down at the new crisp white blouse, short red plaid skirt, white knee socks and little black patent leather Mary Janes. [I’m scared…]

“Wow, I look like a girl.” Was all he said, leaving his hands loosely linked about my neck.

My throat tightened at his acceptance. “They’ll be looking for a 14 year old boy with glasses and short black hair.” Another spell and his hair lengthened and curled into ringlets on his shoulders. “I’ll be wearing Muggle clothing and looking rather more athletic than I normally do.” A spell shortened my hair to above my ears and another put me into jeans and a buttoned down Henley in aubergine.

“Now, put your glasses in your purse, Harry.” I slid under the wheel, leaving my hand on his arm in case he was still frightened. “I’m going to drive us to another town where I’ve got a safe house set up.”

“D-does Dumbledore know where it is, Professor?” He said, sliding a little closer to me but obediently [There’s a warning sign right there. As soon as “obedient” starts cropping up, you know some fucking scary shit is about to happen] taking off his glasses and tucking them into the patent leather [This isn’t just leather; This is Marks and Spencers patent leather] purse which matched his shoes.

“No, he doesn’t.” Starting the car, I pulled away from the house of death and sedately drove west. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

“I’m still alive.” He said quietly and I felt a small hand creep back onto my arm. [And then, onto my cock. PHWOAR]

********* Harry *********

It felt so unreal to watch Professor Snape driving – a car, a Muggle car [Oh Snape, you so crazy!]. It felt even odder to be wearing girl’s clothes. My skirt didn’t even cover my knees [Well you don’t want to look frigid, do ya?] and I wiggled a little to feel the soft underwear against my skin. It bound me differently then the worn-out y-fronts I’d worn all my life [Well, and I’m not an expert here, but I would have thought missing your penis would have felt weirder. Or, if its still there, trying to jam the thing into girls knickers. That takes a lot of practice, it’s not something you can just do… Wait… I… uh…]. I had the urge to lift my skirt to look at them but my life was already too weird [You think?].

Touching the professor made it seem more real and he didn’t seem to mind my clinging to his arm. I set my purse – I had a purse, how odd was that [Not as odd as you BEING TURNED INTO A GIRL], on the seat beside me and realized I didn’t have my seatbelt on [Safety first]. I had to scoot a little over to the door to reach for the hanging part and my skirt slid up almost to my crotch. Blushing, I tugged it down and tried to pretend it was like a pair of shorts.

“Here, I’ll get that for you, [Ladies don’t like it when you do this, Snape. Trust me]” his voice was still soft and caring and it made me feel warm all over. His hand helped me tug it down and click it closed between us.

His fingers brushed against my thigh and I caught my breath at the sudden flare of heat. I did that now and then to myself but only when it was really, really dark and I knew everybody was asleep [Teenage boy in wanking shocker, full story at 8!]. But not even my hand felt that good. I was blushing; I just knew it and I hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“We’re driving to a town called York in northern England [Which is in England].” His voice was velvety smooth and I listened carefully. “I’m known as a painter there, one who works on commission. That is one way to explain my frequent absences. You will be my niece come to stay with me while my sister – your mother, recuperates from an operation [I’m guessing it was a brain operation, yeah?]. I’ll be Uncle John since my name here is John Aberforce [Snape, you are totally not a John]. What name would you like to go by?”

“Um,” I thought hard and fiddled with the edge of my skirt. “Mary is kind of like Harry [Fuck right off is it]. That way I won’t forget to answer to it. What kind of painter are you? [Sex. I do sex painting]“

He chuckled and I thought his smile was really nice, what little I could see of it without my glasses. “I paint portraits of famous people. Mary will do nicely. Have you thought of doing something about your eyesight?”

“Is there something magic?” I asked eagerly. “I hate wearing glasses and lately they don’t seem to be working as well as they used to.”

He growled a little and I bit my lip at the thought I’d angered him. “Those damn muggles have a lot to answer for, Harry. Yes, there is something that can be done and I’ll perform the spell when we reach home. [Not to argue canon with you here, but if there was a spell to fix eyesight in the Potterverse, why do so many wizards wear glasses? BOOM, schooled]“

“Are they dead?” I had to hear the words even though I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

********* Severus *********

“They’re dead, Harry.” I said it flatly and watched him out of the corner of my eye. Driving took all my concentration and I rarely did it but the trains wouldn’t be safe right now and none of my fellow Death Eaters knew I could drive a car [Or that I liked to turn teenage boys into girls, but the car was a bigger taboo]. No one in the magical world knew. “It was not your fault and there was *nothing* you could have done to stop them. Your battle is not yet to be fought.”

He rubbed his nose and I fished out a handkerchief. “Blow [Me], Harry.”

Taking it, he blew hard then crumbled it up in his hand. “Sorry, Professor, I’ll try not to be so weepy.”

“You’re entitled to cry, Harry.” I softened my voice even more and caught his wondering look up at me. Those lustrous green eyes shone with tears and it was all I could do not to stop the car and pull him into my arms. “Being sad and sorry is exactly the way you should be feeling right now. If you need to cry, then do so [Trust me, you’ll need to soon. WINK]. I shall not condemn honest emotion. I only wish I could allow myself more of the softer feelings.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly and even though the seatbelt bisected his boyish chest, he leaned into my arm, resting his head against my sleeve. “Maybe once it has set in I’ll be able to cry for them. Right now, I feel kind of numb but also . . .” he blushed and went back to plucking at his skirt hem, which had raised half-way up his smooth thigh again. [Am I going to go to prison for reading this?]

I was going straight to hell for what I was thinking [Oh, I am] but then I always knew that was my ultimate destination.

“But right now, I feel . . . free and kind of light.” His face tilted up to me and I gripped the steering wheel tightly so I didn’t do something inappropriate. “I trust you to keep me safe, Professor.”

“I’m very grateful for your acceptance.” I smiled down into his kitten-like face [The first scent of the bestiality then] and was rewarded with a shy grin. “After my abominable treatment during the school year, I feared you wouldn’t allow me to help or trust me to get you away.”

“You had to act that way or everyone would have known you were a spy for Dumbledore.” He leaned in a little harder. “I grew up a lot last month and took a good look at who had always protected me, even when it meant you had to do things you didn’t want to. I wanted to say thank you but didn’t know how or when. [I’m sensing the “how” is going to involve penises and orifices]“

I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “That is quite the nicest apology I’ve ever received, Harry. Thank you for making this so easy.”

He squirmed a little and smoothed his skirt with both hands. “Um, Professor, could we stop for a bathroom break? I need to go really badly. [Please, please, please don’t degenerate into a piss fetish fic as well. Please]“

“Ten minutes to Little Pickford and we can stop for an early tea break.” I picked up the speed and spared a thought for his first time in a woman’s bathroom. Oh to be a little mouse to see how he handled it [If there are mice in the women’s toilets then they are not as palatial as I have been led to believe]. “Now remember to call me Uncle John, ‘Mary’.”

********* Harry *********

The tea shop was in a small cottage and Uncle John walked me back to the ladies room, telling me he would watch the door for me. I shut it behind me with a sigh of relief before hiking up my skirt and finally seeing my new knickers. They were frilly and silky when I pulled them down to relieve myself. That felt really good and I found myself stroking the fabric while I shot a golden stream [Who talks this way?] into the toilet.

Maybe this was kind of kinky or at least Ron [Not just Ron, kid] would think so, I thought with a last guilty stroke before trying to rearrange myself more comfortably inside the panties. They didn’t have the reinforcing of my old underwear [Harry, I seriously doubt you are endowed enough to need “reinforcement” in your keks] but they clung real tightly. The material behind me kind of eased into my crack and the feel of the cloth right there made my nipples peak under my shirt. I’d noticed that happen once or twice when I was stroking myself in the bathtub. Why did they do that? [Is my body abnormal? Can’t say I recall noticing my nipples doing this… Ever.]

My body seemed to be sending me all kinds of odd signals [Really?]. But I dropped my skirt and brushed it into place before going to wash my hands. My hair looked odd in the mirror and I leaned close to the glass so I could see the bangs that covered my scar. Reaching up, I tugged on a long curl and watched it bounce back onto my shoulder. It wasn’t messy at all and I wondered if I could leave it this way once I got back to school [You’re going to go back to school while being dressed as a girl? Sure, I bet they’ll allow that].

“All right, Mary?”

I started and dried my hands hastily on my plaid skirt before going over to the door and opening it. “Yes, sir, I’m sorry to take so long.”

His smile was so nice to see that I just had to smile back. “I understand that little girls like to take their time, Mary. I’m just an old bachelor who’s forgotten what ages your mother used to take when we were kids. You take all the time you need, little one.”

It seemed right to slip my hand into his and he led me into the front room where an empty table waited for us with a tea pot and two cups sitting alongside a plate full of little tea cakes. Once we sat down, he gestured to the tea pot and I tried to remember how Hermione poured it in the common room [Shall I take bets on how long it takes for Snape to rope Hermione into the inevitable sexcapades?]. It was funny but I just seemed to slip into her mindset and act like a girl [SEXISM, HO!].

The professor nodded to me with a smile and I could tell he was pleased. I found myself wanting to please him, wanting to throw myself into this odd little play that was taking me far away from what had been my life up until now. “Uncle John, could we stop and go shopping before reaching home?”

“Good idea, sweetheart, we need to pick up some play clothes [Play clothes? Oh dear…] for you.” He nodded gravely to the waitress and accepted a plate of small no-crust sandwiches. “Your mother is so strict about dresses only but I think we could manage some shorts and t-shirts while you’re visiting me.” His dark eyes shone with mischief and I had the oddest urge to stick out my tongue at him [Because that’s what girls do, yeah?].

“Oh but I like my dresses, Uncle John,” I batted my eyelashes at him and wiggled a little on the soft cushioned chair. “They feel nice against my skin and they look so very pretty that I almost feel pretty.”

“Sweet Mary, you are the prettiest twelve year-old in the county and if you want more skirts then that is what you shall have.” He winked at me and I looked down with a blush. [This is grooming, isn’t it? This is that thing the scary right-wingers talk about whenever someone mentions the internet near them]

He’d taken two years off my age and I figured that was because I was so flat-chested. “Thank you, Uncle, but you must help me pick out what to wear. You’re so good with colors and fabrics.”

“We shall find a dress shop and you will try on anything your little heart desires, Mary. I will enjoy helping you choose.” He offered me the plate of sandwiches and I did my best to eat two daintily like Hermione would [Is Hermione the only girl he has ever seen?].

When we were all done, he paid our tab and I accepted a compliment from the tea shop owner on my manners. Whew, I thought while getting back in the car, I passed our first test of muggles [When you play the Game of Muggles you either win or you die]. The Professor made sure I was strapped in again before starting the car. It was nice to be just the two of us again. It kind of felt like an enchanted car where I was safe and wanted.

********* Severus *********

Stopping at a local dress shop on the other side of York [I’m willing to bet the author hasn’t been to York] from my cottage, I helped Harry choose two new jumpers, three high-necked blouses, two more skirts, three pair of shorts, a white pinafore with lace inserts and while he was trying on a dress, I put aside several pairs of silk stockings and a little pink lace garter belt that made my groin tighten deliciously [Well, that’s an image I didn’t want]. I was buying them for ‘Sunday wear’ I murmured to the saleswoman. She murmured back that it was a lovely thought and my niece was a very lucky little girl.

I was the lucky one, I said with what I hoped was an uncle-like smile [But, in fact, was a predatory sneer]. But just then Harry came out of the dressing room in a green silk dress with lace on the bodice and little cap sleeves that showed off his tan beautifully [Harry is tanned now? And while I’m at it, who dresses like this?]. His shy look as he turned around slowly in front of me made my heart beat faster.

Harry – no, Mary – was absolutely beautiful [PUH-RIZ-ON].

“Sweetheart, I think we must have that one for Sunday. You look like a little angel.” I told him truthfully and watched him blush. “Go and change while I make sure we have everything.”

But instead he came over and wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tight. The top of his head only came to my mid-chest [I bet that was disappointing for you, Snape old chum. I imagine you were hoping he’d only reach your groin] and I returned his hug with a little more pressure than perhaps I should have but then it had been a very long time since I’d gotten a hug from anyone [The loneliest little pedo]. “Thank you, Uncle John.” Then he went up on tiptoe and I leaned down to hear his whisper. “I’m going to need more . . . um, underwear. [To be fair, this is justified. He only has the one pair of knickers after all]“

And my groin came right to attention. I haven’t gotten that hard that fast in decades [You’re a paedophile that works in a school…]. I swallowed hard and whispered back. “I’ll take care of it.”

His smile and blush were absolutely addicting [AddicTIVE. Stop it with all this addicTING nonsense]. Turning around, he ducked back into the dressing room while I went over to have a low-voiced conversation with the sales woman [Got to be softly spoken when you’re preying on the youth]. Nothing but the best for my little Mary, I told her and selected six pairs of the daintiest, frilliest panties that they had. God willing, I’d get to see them on Harry.

He joined me then and took two of the bags while I finished paying and accepted the other two sacks. Once back in the car, I transfigured one of them into a small brown leather suitcase and with a tap of my wand; all the clothes packed themselves into it. Harry wiggled a little and I realized that was his reaction to pleasure.

“Ready to go home?” I asked him while starting the car.

His look was shy but hopeful. “I’ve never really had a home before, Professor. But I’m ready.”

Driving down the cobblestone avenues, I smiled. “This is the first real home I’ve ever owned and it’s all mine [I am an adult and I own property! Doesn’t that just get you so hot, Mary?]. It’s been my refuge when things got bad and I hope it will be one for you, as well.”

His little hand slipped into mine. “It will be wonderful because we’ll both be safe and happy there.”

“Yes, we will. From now on we need to be Uncle John and Mary only,” I gave him a questioning look. “I know that will be hard but if you can just think of yourself as a little girl and me as your artist uncle, even in your inner most thoughts, you’ll be less likely to slip up and call me professor or for me to slip and call you Harry. [That entire paragraph is fucking creepy]“

“I understand, Uncle John.” He squeezed my hand. “It’s funny but wearing skirts is kind of fun. I like the freedom of them even though my . . . uh, panties feel odd. [Seriously, kid, learn how to tuck]” He hesitated then slid a little closer. “Is it okay if they feel good?”

I swallowed again and hardened at that provocative picture. “They’re silk so they should feel good. They don’t bind your shaft too much?”

He blushed pale pink and squirmed a little before clearing his throat. “Um, no, no they don’t. They kind of creep up a little . . .” a little darting look up at me while I tried to look benign, “um, behind a little.”

Dear god, I was going to come in my pants [Charming. Couldn’t you have suspected you might “ejaculate into your underwear”? You’re a teacher, man!]. Getting a good grip on my wayward tongue, I hummed a little while casting about for the right thing to say. “Silk boxers do that, too sometimes. So long as it doesn’t hurt, can you live with a little teasing?”

His blush looked to be permanent and what a delicious sight it was.

********* Harry *********

I held onto his big hand [But not the little hand] and squirmed a little. “I didn’t know that.” Did that mean he wore boxers? “When it did it before, it made my . . . chest ache a little.” Could I say nipples out loud? [No, you’ll burst into flames] “You know?”

He hummed again. “All kinds of things make a boy or girl’s nipples hard, Mary. There’s nothing wrong with that reaction so long as it doesn’t hurt. Even your new dress looked like maybe it made your nipples peak a little.”

Sighing, I relaxed. “Oh good, I thought there was something wrong with me. Does that happen to you, too?”

He chuckled and I grinned at the nice sound. “It does indeed, Mary. Have you ever rubbed them while in the bath?”

I blushed again. “Yes, once or twice but . . .” could I mention the whole shaft thing? “May I ask you a question about boys’ bodies? [Please don’t]“

He blinked down at me and I realized we’d stopped. “A little later, Mary, I’ll answer all your questions. But we’re home.”

I sat up straight and tried to see everything out the side window. Impatiently, I undid my seat belt and almost opened the door myself but a big hand tapped my shoulder and I sat back. That was one of the hard things about being a girl, having the whole manners thing drilled into them [Pretty sure there’s not a genetic predisposition to being prim and proper in all little girls]. Silently I told myself my story, I was Mary Aberforce and this was my first visit to my Uncle John’s home. I was worried about my Mum but she was healing in a sanatorium after her operation [Told you it was a brain operation] and I’d be well taken care of by my doting uncle.

Uncle John opened my door and I got out primly, smoothing my skirt down from where it had ridden up when I slid across the seat. Then he took my hand in his and led me up to a wrought iron gate made in moon and stars [My moon and my stars]. The short flagstone path led through a small garden and up to a bright blue door with a dragon door knocker on it. He had a key in his hand already and he opened it with a flourish [How do you open a door with a flourish and not look like a tit?].

“Welcome home, Mary, may you find nothing but happiness within these walls.[And penis. Don’t forget all the penis]” He said and gave me a gentle push across the threshold.

Home, I was finally in what could be a real home. I’d always felt temporary with the Dursleys [Dead] and even with the Weasleys [Ginger]. But Molly Weasley had welcomed me with open arms and at least one hug per visit. I’d already gotten several hugs just today from Uncle John and they’d felt wonderful. I had him all to myself and I could feel myself relaxing all over while I looked around with curiosity.

The lounge was to the left and the dining room to the right. The hall stair led up to the next floor and the carpets were all deeply colored oriental rugs that gleamed over polished wood floors. The colors were kind of dark and subdued but the furniture looked comfortable and I could hardly wait to sit on the leather [Not patent leather this time?] sofa in front of the stone fireplace.

“Go upstairs and pick out your bedroom, sweetheart. I’ll lock up the car and bring in your luggage.” He smiled down at me but his eyes slid over to the house next door and I wondered if somebody was listening.

“Which one is yours, Uncle John? [The one with the secret compartment that leads into yours, Mary]” I let go of his hand reluctantly and moved to the bottom step. I liked the endearment. Nobody had ever called me that before [Because you’re not a girl!].

“Mine is next to the bathroom at the back of the house, Mary. The two front rooms are both furnished but we can make whichever one you choose more what a little girl would like.” He smiled again and I smiled back before walking upstairs.

Funny, but I could feel his eyes on me all the way up and I had the strangest urge to kind of wiggle my hips like Cho used to do at Hogwarts [That hussy!]. I liked the feeling that he was watching me. It made me feel safe and wanted [Nothing like an old man leching at you to really get the motor running]. Upstairs, I opened the first door on the left and saw a bed, dresser and chair. It was really bland with white walls and gray [Point of order (and I should have said this earlier): Harry is English – if you’re going to do a first person narrative then he should really use the English spellings] bedclothes. But that was almost all I could see without my glasses.

Going further down the hall, I spotted the open bathroom door and stuck my head in to see an enormous claw-footed bathtub, a pedestal sink and a gleaming white toilet next to something that looked like a chopped off toilet. I’d have to ask Uncle John what it was. The next room was done in shades of blue and the four poster bed looked just like the one I had at school.

This was it; I decided and stepped in to run a hand over the soft duvet.

“Ah, I thought this might be the one.” The quiet voice startled me and I turned around to find him standing there with my new suitcase and little black purse. “Why don’t I help you unpack then we can finish seeing the rest of the house?”

“Yes, thank you, Uncle John.” I wanted to see what kind of underwear he’d gotten me. My hair kept startling me by falling over my shoulder and I pushed it back a little impatiently before reaching for the suitcase.

“We forgot to get you a new brush for these pretty curls of yours, Mary.” His fingers stroked through my hair and my whole scalp tingled [Tell me, have you ever tried to brush your hair with a penis?]. “We can do that before dinner tonight, which reminds me we need to go to the shops before they close for something to cook for our meal.”

I opened the suitcase and pulled out the pretty green dress first. Uncle John opened the closet door and brought me some empty hangars. I knew how to take care of clothing since I’d done laundry since I was big enough to put the clothes in the washer. Ironing was no fun so I always tried to hang things up before they were quite dry so gravity would do part of the job for me.

“Uncle John, thank you. I’ve never, ever had anything so beautiful in my life.” I looked up at him and suddenly felt like crying [Mate, it’s just a dress].

“There, there, Mary,” he sat down on the bed and pulled me up onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me. “It’s been a long day and full of surprises. Things have been moving much too fast. Everything will be all right, I promise.”

I clutched the dress to my chest with one hand and held onto his shirt hard while burying my head into the curve of his shoulder. My stomach had butterflies in it and the cotton of his jeans was rough on my bare legs. My panties felt about two sizes too small and I could swear my shaft had gotten hard without me even touching it [Yes, penises do that sometimes]. I was confused but not frightened. Deep inside of me, I knew I was safe with Severus. [And soon, Severus would be deep inside of me]