A single brow arched, his expression steeped in disdain. Crossing his arms with deliberate slowness, Snape drawled, "Are you here to interrogate me?"
"No, I'm here to offer you a way out. I don't plan on standing at the front, but I know I'll be a target all the same. And I know that mark on your arm… it's burning, isn't it? I reckon we both know what that means. With everything odd going on since the Goblet of Fire, it's not hard to guess where things are heading. So… tell me—whose side are you on this time?"
Please work. Please work.
"There are some things you simply cannot fight against, Dursley."
"And there are some things worth fighting for. You know, Lily will die trying to save Harry. I get it—you've fancied her since you were young. That's fair enough. But facts are facts—Harry's probably told her how much he hates you, how you treated him. Come on, Professor. If even I can see the bigger picture, why can't you?"
Snape eyed him intently, noting how he avoided looking at his face. Snape could feel it already. This was the real Dudley. Everything else he or the school had seen about him was a well-crafted image.
"If you help me, I'll help you at least earn Lily's forgiveness." Dudley offered.
"And what makes you believe I desire it?"
"The simple reason why you cried holding her that night. Why you've looked for her, every time she was here. Why you stood outside her house but never knocked. Maybe winning her love isn't something you can hope for now… but you still want her friendship back. Don't you?"
Bam!
Suddenly, Snape grabbed Dudley's collar and pushed him against a nearby wall. His wand hand rose and the tip touched Dudley's neck. "You speak too much."
"Go on then, Professor. Do it, if I'm wrong. But if I'm not… maybe it's time you stopped running from the truth and stood up for something you believe in. The Dark Lord and his lot used you—just saw you as a tool. To them, you were never more than a half-blood they put up with because of your talents. That mark… it's not who you are, and it's not a sign of loyalty."
"Enough! I am no longer concerned with them."
"Is that what you believe, then? So why is it still burning? Just admit it, Professor… that mark—you're still a slave to it."
Fuck! This guy!
Dudley felt more pressure on his neck and Snape's wand almost stabbed into his skin. But he made sure not to look up at his face.
"What are you? A Seer?"
"Who knows."
"You cannot win against him. Even in death, he endures. There is nothing you can do, Dursley. Stay away. Finish Hogwarts… and leave."
At least he's still sane.
"To where? And for how long? My Mum's here. My life's here. My mates are here." Dudley finally grabbed Snape's arms back. "I've already lost enough… There's too much left to lose. If not for yourself, then… do it for Lily."
"Do what?"
"Join me! You know you won't be free of the Dark Mark while he's still around. The Headmaster's bound to ask you to carry on as a spy. When the time comes, I'll just need the names and locations of the Death Eaters. That's all."
A little, Snape's grip on his collar loosened. Then finally, the Potions Professor stepped back.
"What will you do with those names?"
Dudley straightened his collar. "Best not to say, Professor. Hard to believe, I know—but it turns out my bit of wealth isn't completely useless against wizards."
Snape lowered his wand finally. "I wish to speak with Lily first."
Such a stubborn, stuck-up prick.
"I can't promise it'll be soon. But I doubt the Dark Lord will be back that quickly either. What I can promise is that you'll have a chance to speak with her face to face before the end of the school year."
Snape returned to his chair by the table. "Then we are finished here. You may leave."
Dudley nodded and left the classroom.
Once he was outside and a few steps away, he heaved a big sigh of relief.
Felix Felicis is the best.
It took him the expensive luck potion to deal with Snape. Of course, just talking to him wasn't his goal. The moment he touched his collar, he'd won. And now, with Lily, he had the opportunity to make use of him.
"Ah, Hermione must be waiting for me."
####
"Did I keep you waiting?" Dudley arrived in front of the empty Arithmancy classroom. The designated spot where he and Hermione did their Occlumency and Legilimency training.
With a book hugged against her chest, Hermione shook her head adorably, a shy blush already apparent on her skin. "I just arrived."
"Let's start then." He opened the room with the key and let her walk in first, admiring her slender frame. He could swear her uniform skirt was a little shorter, reaching the upper part of her knees, revealing more of her stocking-clad legs.
He locked the door behind him and followed her to one side of the classroom. There, they quickly moved the desks away and placed two chairs facing each other like usual.
It'd been hard to hold back, but ever since that lesson where she straddled his lap, he'd kept things under wraps. Other than occasional teasing touches, he'd held back. He allowed her to listen to his thoughts sometimes, but they never kissed again.
Slowly, he noticed her own growing need. The discomfort as she sat and rubbed her legs together. The way her knuckles would turn white, her fists clenched. The way she'd gulp and it'd travel down her throat. Her eyes were full of concern and embarrassment.
Let's tease her a little more.
For the first hour, Dudley truly practiced Occlumency and Legilimency. It was really important for him so he didn't hold back. Probing each other's thoughts, they went back and forth and developed stronger ways to defend while also being more efficient at probing.
Then, as he started to feel tired, he allowed some of his surface thoughts to be read. How he loved looking at her cute face, feeling her bushy hair, and holding her on his lap. And how angry he was by the hate mail she was getting due to Rita Skeeter's article about her, Harry, and Viktor Krum.
"Your turn to defend." He soon stopped her and probed her thoughts back without stopping. It was sort of a tug of war. An advanced version of their training where one could look back into the mind of someone attempting to probe you.
And right away, Dudley smiled. Her thoughts were hard to read but they were there.
He liked that? But… Why isn't he doing anything then? Maybe I kissed him badly?
"Hermione," Dudley voiced all of a sudden, ending his mental probe. He stood up for no reason and stepped closer to her seat, standing close enough that her knees touched his pants.
"Yes?!" She reacted by jumping up to her feet too. A mistake as the hills on her chest bumped into him and she started falling back into the chair.
But she didn't. A strong, firm arm wrapped around her waist and stopped her fall. Not that it mattered as her eyes were fixed on his face. Feeling his arm around her once again made her knees shudder already.
"I know Rita went too far. I'll deal with her."
"You can?" She gained her footing and stood straight. But seeing his arm not leaving her thin waist, she put her hands on his chest in return.
"Why not? Her prime motivation is fame and money."
"But… I don't want you to…"
"Shhh…" Dudley abruptly leaned his face down, closer to hers. "I wasn't asking."
He captured her lips in a deep, consuming kiss, pulling her body against him. His arm tightened around her waist, his broad palm sliding lower until it molded against the curve of her supple, round hips. His other hand cupped the side of her face, holding her steady as he kissed her with raw hunger. His tongue slid past her lips, drinking her in.
The golden light of the sunset bathed them in warmth, casting an almost dreamlike glow over her.
Hermione gasped softly into his mouth before surrendering completely, pressing herself against him, arms wrapping around his neck. She rose onto her toes, her breasts smushing against his firm chest, her breath shaky, needy.
Dudley didn't let up—his lips latched onto hers, sucking, nibbling, pulling her deeper into the kiss until nothing else existed but the wet heat of their mouths.
His hands roamed lower, gripping the plump swell of her ass, squeezing, kneading every inch of her. But as his fingers pushed under the hem of her skirt, he discovered something unexpected. Instead of pantyhose, she wore high, thigh-hugging stockings, leaving her soft, silky white panties exposed.
Dudley hummed against her lips, the realization tickling his cock. His breath grew heavier, raspier, pressing into her, making sure she felt just how hard he was against her belly. His fingers moved greedily, sliding beneath the elastic band of her panties, slipping over the bare skin of her ass. Smooth, warm, perfect.
He wanted more.
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