32 • The Truth

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Smut ahead

**

«You didn't come back», Professor Snape pointed out as you got into his office. The familiar click of his lock rang in your ears.

«I lost track of time», you said quietly, feeling the anger oozing off of him.

«I went to look for you», he said, as he started fidgeting with a quill.

«I'm sorry», you replied. The cold in the dungeon didn't exactly warm you up, as you'd been freezing outside already.

«I came out because I heard screaming», he said slowly, looking down at the quill, «tell me what happened».

Your hands started shaking, «Draco got jealous because I was with Blaise», you started, «then Draco's father came to stop him from making a scene».

Please please please say he didn't hear the contents of the conversation.

«Draco likes you?», he asked, the slight surprise in his voice made you calmer.

«Apparently», you said, as if it hadn't been revealed to you before.

«I thought he liked Parkinson», he said.

«Me too», you replied.

«Do you like him?», he asked for the second time that day. Only this time you didn't have such an obvious answer. You cared for Draco, that was true.

«I care about him, he is my friend», you said. He hummed in response, understanding where you were coming from.

«And Zabini?», he asked.

«No», you quickly said, «I don't».

«But you held his hand», he growled as he approached you. Looking down at you he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked on it slightly, making you wince. «I was busy with work, told you to wait but you couldn't?», he said even louder, «I know you're impatient, but that must be a new record». Yanking on your hair even more you wrinkled your forehead and furrowed your eyebrows at the pain, «so what if Draco, Lucius and myself hadn't come? Had you asked him to fuck you too?», he spat.

«No», you whimpered. Gripping his hand you looked into his eyes, «no», you said once more.

«Why do I not believe you?», he growled.

Because I did that exact thing with Lucius when you decided to ignore me...

Because I'm not good, not at all.

And I don't deserve you.

But if I don't tell you that, perhaps you won't hate me as much as I do.

«It's true, I wouldn't have», you yelped as he tightened his grip.

«Why?», he challenged your honesty.

«Because», you felt out of breath, «nobody fucks me like you do». Your answer made his lips curve slightly.

«Is that so?», he said, his confidence grew.

«Yes», you squealed as he pulled you with him over to his desk, shoving away all of his parchments he bent you over and pushed you down onto its cold surface. Your cheek pressed against the old wood.

«Say it again», he hissed.

«Nobody fucks me like you», you said through gritted teeth, «Professor».

Ripping off your skirt and panties you heard his rage through his heavy breathing. Pulling you up again by your hair he turned you around and let go of it. «Take off your fucking clothes», he snapped, his language surprising you.

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