Severus Snape glanced up from his Transfiguration revision to gaze at Lily Evans. She was scowling at her own notes, jabbing the parchment viciously as she scratched down a few more words. The tip of her quill snapped.
"Tcha!" she said impatiently, dropping the useless quill onto the library table with a clatter.
"Everything all right?" Severus asked sardonically.
"No. It's no use. I just can't focus properly today." She turned her scowl toward the window and glared at the beautiful Spring sunshine warming the grounds around the castle. "How am I supposed to get through five years' worth of notes in time for OWLs with all these bloody distractions?"
Severus glanced around the studious hush of the library. "I see what you mean," he said with a half-smile. "All those pages turning. I'll try to keep it down, henceforth."
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "That's not what I meant."
She had spent the last hour staring at the same page, as a detailed fantasy involving herself, Severus, and this very library table, played out in her head. It was Spring, she was sixteen, and they expected her to focus on studying? She was just about to make her excuses and head up to Gryffindor tower for a good wank, when Severus touched her hand.
"I could use a break, too," he said. "Want to go for a walk?"
She sighed and closed her books. "Sure. Why not?" She could always find some privacy later, and Severus could be pleasant company when he wanted to.
As they exited the main doors of the castle into the sunshine, Lily paused and closed her eyes, letting the light and warmth fall on her face and fill up her body. After months of dark and cold and wet, the light and air on her skin felt glorious. She completely understood, in that moment, the ancient pagan practice of sun-worship.
As she stood, eyes closed, face turned toward the sun, Severus admired her. She was a creature of light and air and beauty. Not like him at all. And yet, quite inexplicably to his mind, she saw something in him.
They had been friends forever. He was the one who had told her she was a witch, long before her Hogwarts letter had arrived. They had played together as children, experimenting with the first sparks of their innate magical ability. Their friendship had deepened over the years, and recently, it had become something more.
Starting this year -- their fifth year at Hogwarts -- her hand had found its way into his more and more often, and around Christmas, they had exchanged a tentative kiss beneath the mistletoe. Their recent kisses had become more passionate, including one just last night, which had left him wakeful long after he should have been asleep.
They didn't talk about it -- didn't call it a relationship, or refer to one another as girlfriend and boyfriend -- but it was definitely Something, and it was something Severus wanted to pursue as far as he could.
Lily opened her eyes and smiled at him. Something in his stomach did a tiny flip. Their hands barely touched as they walked down the great stone steps into the castle grounds, but every time they did, a spark seemed to jump between them.
They walked in silence for several minutes. Lily's mind seemed to be elsewhere, and Severus was content just to be with her. The day was warm, and the grounds were full of people. A few of Lily's friends called out to her, but she waved to them and walked on.
One or two Slytherins nodded in Severus's direction, and he was uncomfortably aware that they did not approve of the company he kept. But what did that matter to him? Lily liked him, and the war that raged throughout the Wizarding world had no place inside these walls. When Rabastan Lestrange scowled at him, he turned away, firmly taking Lily's hand in his. She twined her fingers through his, and gave them a squeeze.
Their footsteps took them around the far side of the Black Lake, into the shade along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Lily peered into the dim light between the trees.
"Surely perfect prefect Lily Evans isn't thinking of bending the rule about not going into the Forbidden Forest?" Severus teased.
She grinned wickedly. "We can't all obey the rules all the time. Besides, I heard that some of the rarer potion ingredients grow in there. Want to go hunting?"
To be alone, walking through the forest, hand in hand with Lily Evans on such a beautiful day? Did she even have to ask? He shrugged, giving her one of his rare smiles. "Sure."
Quickly glancing around to make sure no one was looking, they ducked beneath the low-hanging branches of the trees.
She let go of his hand, and sprinted away, laughing. He gave chase, following the musical sound of her laughter between the trees, through dappled patches of sunlight. When he finally caught up with her, breathless, she was sprawled in the sunlit grass of a little clearing, stretching luxuriantly. He collapsed beside her.
Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were pink from running and she was so beautiful and suddenly he was kissing her. Her lips parted eagerly, and she tasted warm and sweet and fresh and wonderful. His heart pounded as her arms went around him, pulling him close. He pressed against her, reveling in the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her clothing.
Suddenly, she went still, and Severus became uncomfortably aware of what she must have felt. He pulled away, embarrassed.
"Sorry," he mumbled, flustered.
She gave him a look, one coppery brow raised. "Really? Why?"
He stared resolutely at the grass. "I don't mean it to do that. It just -- does. Embarrassing, really."
"Can I see it?" she asked.
His mouth dropped open in shock and he stared at her. "What? Why?"
She gave him a half-smile. "Because I've never seen one before. Because I'm curious. Because I've been thinking about it all day."
His chest felt tight, breathless. Did she mean that like he thought she did?
"Really?" he asked, leaning closer, his former embarrassment forgotten.
"Would I say it if it wasn't true?" She gave him a sly smile and laid her hand on the hem of her skirt. "I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours."
Part of him wanted to give the whole thing up as foolishness before his life started coming apart at the seams, but not a very big part. After all, this might be his best and only chance to be with this beautiful girl. He took a deep breath and stepped over the edge.
Laying a hand on the waistband of his trousers, he gave her a nervous grin. "Last chance to change your mind, Evans. Sure you don't want to go back to the library and study?"
She lay back on the grass and stretched like a cat. "Isn't that what we're doing? Learning new and different things?"
"Oh yes," he said drily. "This is very like revision."
She grinned. "So stop stalling and educate me, already!"
His fingers shook slightly as he fumbled with the laces of his flies, and he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, as he drew himself out into the light. He held his breath, awaiting her verdict.
"Oh," she said softly. "It's all red." She reached out a tentative hand, then paused. "Can I touch it?"
Oh, God, yes. "Sure. If you want to."
Hesitantly, she closed her fingers around his shaft. Her hand was cool against his hot flesh. He closed his eyes.
"Oh!" she said. "It moved! Am I hurting you?"
"No." He tried to keep his voice from cracking. "It just does that. It feels good. You touching me like that."
Her fingers stroked him, and he could not suppress a soft moan.
"Do you want to touch me, too?" she asked.
Dear God, I have never wanted anything more. "If you want me to."
She didn't let go of him, but rolled onto her back, raising her skirt with her free hand. Her knickers were white cotton -- what the boys called "virgin pants" -- and she blushed as she showed them to him.
Her forthrightness, in combination with her obvious innocence, combined to produce a heady brew as his fingers brushed the soft skin of her thigh. When he touched the fabric that covered her, she shivered. He hooked his fingers over the waistband, and reverently drew them down past her knees.
The cinnamon curls were a brighter red than the hair on her head, and when he urged her knees apart and saw the lush pink petals hidden between her legs, he thought her name couldn't have been more true; she looked like a flower, opening to the sunlight.
"Oh, Lily," he breathed. "You're beautiful."
His hands slid up her thighs again, until the tip of a single finger stroked hot, slick flesh. She gasped, her fingers squeezing him too tightly. Gently, he pushed her hand away, and moved between her legs, his face close to that place of secret beauty. He drew his fingers over her, tracing every fold and curve. There was one spot that elicited a hungry moan from her, and he touched it again.
In his wildest dreams, he had wished to see her body laid open to him like this, but he had never imagined that it might truly happen. And now -- he slid his finger down from the moan-producing spot, and slipped it into the sweet, tight entrance of her body.
"Sev!" she gasped, her fingers pressing against his wrist.
"Am I hurting you?"
"No. It's just -- strange. You don't have to stop -- if you don't want to."
Slowly, he slid the long finger all the way into her. She was hot and slippery and seemed to pulse slightly around his finger. He couldn't imagine anything feeling more wonderful around his cock than this. He couldn't really even imagine his cock fitting into such a snug space. He wondered if she would let things go that far, and decided not to push -- yet. He moved his finger inside her, and she moaned softly, fingers digging into the grass at her sides.
She looked beautiful, sounded beautiful, felt beautiful, smelled beautiful. Not wishing to leave any of his senses unindulged, he moved closer.
"Wha -- what are you doing, Sev?" she asked.
"Hush, Love," he murmured. "I'm studying. I want to taste you."
She gasped as his mouth caressed her.
"You -- you're right. This -- isn't much like revision."
He raised his head for a moment. "Sure it is. I'm just reciting the twelve uses of dragons' blood."
Bending his head again, he mouthed against her, One: Heightening and stimulation of the senses. She moaned as his lips moved and his tongue flicked against her. When he finally came to, Twelve: For the cleaning of stubborn stains from the oven, she gave a little cry and arched her back, her body pulsing and clinging tight around his finger.
When he raised his head, her eyes were closed, and she was smiling.
"Thirteen," she sighed. "For giving a girl the best orgasm of her life."
He grinned and crawled up to lie beside her. "Was it really?"
"Oh, yeah!" she said, stretching like a cat again. "You can do that anytime you like. If you don't mind, that is."
"It was great," he told her. "You taste really good. I was just thinking --"
She opened her eyes. "What?"
She's going to say "no", you idiot, he told himself, but pressed on, reckless. "I was just thinking how amazing you feel. Inside. And what it would feel like if I -- if we --" Damnit, he couldn't even say it.
But to his amazement, she laid her hand on his near-painful erection. "I want you to," she said softly. "I want to feel you inside me."
For a moment, he thought his heart had ceased to beat. "You -- you do? Really?"
She nodded. "You're my best friend, Sev. I love you. Why wouldn't I want you to be my first?" She kissed him.
Any second now, I am going to wake up, he thought as he eagerly shoved his trousers and pants down over his boney hips.
But she was unbuttoning her white school blouse, and unhooking the clasp of her bra, and her breasts were so perfect under his hands as she pulled him down on top of her.
He could feel her slick, hot entrance against the tip of his cock. "Are you sure?" he breathed. He knew he would die if she said "no".
"I am," she said. "Just -- go slow, all right?"
He nodded. It was really going to happen. Beautiful, amazing Lily Evans, giving herself to him -- to him. He had never dared believe --
A gently as he could, he pressed the head of his cock into her. She gasped, and moved her hips. God, she felt amazing! It was all he could do to keep himself from plunging in to the hilt. Pushing in another fraction, he felt resistance. He gritted his teeth and pressed through, feeling it give way. She cried out, digging her fingernails into his shoulderblades.
He summoned up a coherent thought. "Are you -- okay?" he gasped
She nodded, biting her lip. It had hurt, as she had known it would, but not badly. The feeling was more odd than anything else -- as if her mind had to open to accommodate the experience as much as her body opened to accommodate him physically. She held her breath, entirely focused on the sensation as he slowly slid the rest of the way inside her. The look of utter disbelief on his face would have been funny under almost any other circumstances.
She felt full, and oddly whole, in a way she never had before. It was more than just him being inside of her; it was as if they had left themselves behind completely to become a part of something ancient and universally human. There was an indescribable rightness to their joining which made it as vital as food, water, or shelter. She didn't just want this; she needed it.
It was better than he possibly could have imagined. She fit him so snugly, but with the slickness, there was almost no friction. He moved his hips, sliding out a little way and back in again. She gasped, but when he moved once more, she moved with him.
He was doing it! He was inside her! They were having sex! It was almost more than his sixteen-year-old brain could handle. He wondered if it felt as good for her as it did for him.
"You're amazing, Lily," he mumbled.
She whimpered and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in still deeper. He felt the grass under his knees and elbows, her breasts against his boney chest, the rough wool of her school skirt beneath his belly, the sweat that joined their skins, the sun on his back, and the perfect, wonderful clutch of her, sheathed tight around him.
He wanted it to last forever -- the two of them in the sunlight, skin to skin, caught up in the pleasure of the moment -- but all too soon, he felt his climax building. Her eyes were green and filled with pain and wonder and desire, and as he came, he muffled his satisfied groan against her lips, spilling his seed inside her in a rush of pleasure, possession, completion.
He came to himself again slowly, his face buried against her neck. Her fingers were stoking his back gently, and he could feel her heart beating almost as if it were his own.
"What are you thinking?" she said softly.
He nuzzled against her, breathing in her scent. "Just that, I usually wake up long before this bit. So I guess this can't be a dream."
She giggled, and he felt the vibration of it echo down her body, to where they were still joined. He gasped and shuddered again.
"Are you all right?" There was a smile in her voice.
"I," he said with certainty, "have never been better. You?"
"A bit sore," she admitted. "But very happy."
He raised his head to look into her eyes. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"I'm not," she said. "I'm glad it was you. And it will be better next time."
"Next time?" he had hardly dared hope. "You mean you want to do it again sometime?"
She giggled again. "As soon as you're ready."
He rolled off of her, throwing an arm across his eyes against the brilliant Spring sunlight.
"Give me a minute," he told her. "I need to die happy, just now."