FIC: "If You Want It" (Snape/Luna, NC-17)
Title: If You Want It
Author: schemingreader
Pairing: Snape/Luna
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Drug use. Explicit description of sex. Luna is sixteen and Snape is 37 and was her teacher. She is over the age of consent but some people might find that squicky.
Word count: about 2900
Summary: Right after the final battle for Hogwarts, Luna goes looking for some time away from the crowd in the Room of Requirement, and finds someone in there who needs her help.
Author's Notes: Thanks to beta-readers accio_arse, stasia, and rexluscus, and to the segment of my flist who will read het during the month of December.






It was a wild party. All of Luna’s friends were there, everyone who had survived the war. She was surprised that she could call so many of them her friends. Hogwarts was full of people. Her father hadn’t come, which was sad, but she supposed she would see him soon.


In the meantime she was dancing with Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley. They had passed from shell shocked grief into crazed celebration without a break. First they were dancing, and then weeping, and then dancing and weeping at once. Even for Luna, it was much too intense. She had to break the hold of their arms around her shoulders by ducking out from under them. Someone kept on singing, "War is over, if you want it." Maybe it was some of Neville's Muggle music. Too hard to bear, just now, thinking about how much she had wanted the war over.


She thought that perhaps it would be a good thing if they got high, so she took some of the sandwiches and butterbeer that were out on the tables in the Great Hall and went back to the Ravenclaw common room to pick up her stash. Though the Death Eaters had punished students with beatings and hexes for a variety of trivial offenses, no one had thought to look for Luna's hashish. It was still behind a brick over the fireplace, with her little pipe, in a quilted silk bag. There were also three or four vials of pain relieving potions, for the cramps she got sometimes, for hayfever, and for headache. She didn't like to go to Madame Pomfrey, and anyway her mother's recipes were better than the ones they used in the Infirmary. It felt so normal to have her little drugs satchel in her hand again.

As she passed the statue of Gregory the Gormless on the third floor Charms corridor, she thought it would be great to find a spot away from the crowd just to chill out. She could send her Patronus to let Ginny and Neville know where to meet her, if only she could find the Room of Requirement again.

The door appeared, and Luna opened it. It was awfully dark. She thought it would be good if the Room had an overhead chandelier, but nothing happened. Who could have come in here before her and told the Room to stay dark? She pulled out her wand and cast Lumos.

There was a wet cough.

"Who's there?" she called, and there was more coughing. "Are you all right?"

"You stupid girl." The voice was weak yet familiar.

"Professor!"

Before his recent tenure as headmaster, Luna had always liked Professor Snape. His classes were challenging and he was serious about teaching. His sarcastic style had never put her off. After all, everyone treated her that way. "Where are you, sir? Are you a ghost?"

There was more coughing.

"Because if you aren't, then you're still alive, and that means that Harry was wrong about you being dead."

She swung around until finally the wandlight caught him where he was crouched on a mattress on the floor. His neck was bandaged, but clumsily, as though he had done it himself.

"Miss Lovegood, do not rush over to--for all you know I am a Death Eater! What are you doing?" As weak as he was, Snape was still able to work up annoyance over his students' foolishness. She crouched next to him on the floor.

"Harry told us the whole story, about how you stayed loyal to his mother and to Dumbledore all those years, your courage, how you tricked Voldemort..." She knew she sounded vague again. She knew what she meant, anyway, even if he was looking at her like she was insane.

He rolled his eyes and lay back. "Is he dead?"

"Harry is alive; Voldemort is dead."

"Jolly good," he said in a flat voice, and coughed.

"How did you survive? Was it like Harry, did you live because of deep magic, because of your willing sacrifice?"

His eyes were dark in the wandlight. "No." He coughed again. "I took antivenin potion and blood replacers." She asked the room for light, and a half dozen candles floated around them. Snape didn't stop her. He looked dreadful--even more pale and unkempt than usual.

"Oh. You're still not well." She sat down beside him and put an arm under his shoulders, the way she had for poor Mr. Ollivander. Snape was not an old man, though--he had corded muscles in his back and arms, all of which tensed under her touch.

"Yes, you certainly are a Ravenclaw," he muttered. "Not much gets past you."

"Let me help you, sir. Please?" He could barely move to resist her. She ran her wand over his body, looking for wounds. "You must be in pain." He shut his eyes. "I have pain potion--this one for headache, and this one--"

"No."

"You don't deserve to be in pain, sir."

He opened his eyes and looked at her, and then cleared his throat. "Whether or not I agree with you, I am allergic to some of the ingredients in common pain potions. For example, willow bark," he coughed, "gives me hives--"

"Episkey," she said, holding her wand over his throat.

He swallowed. "Thank you." His hand went to his throat, and he felt the bandage. She helped him take it off. There were two closed puncture wounds. "Snake bit me," he explained. "I bled a lot."

"I have hashish. For recreational purposes, of course."

"You can't tell me that! I'm your--" He trailed off. "I suppose I'm not a professor here any longer. At least I'm not allergic to cannabis."

She took out her stash bag and filled her little jeweled pipe. "Have you ever smoked before?"

"Oh please. I left school in 1978, what do you think?" He took the pipe from her, broke up the hash into smaller chunks, and then took his wand out to light it. He took a long drag and then handed it to her, the smoke still in his lungs.

"You aren't coughing now."

He exhaled the smoke through his nose, and sighed. "No, I think you cleared some of the blood from my lungs. God, that's a disgusting thought."

Luna took a hit, holding the glowing tip of her wand to the bowl, then passed it back. They smoked in silence until the hash was gone.

"I have more, if you want it," Luna said. Her voice seemed to echo. Probably meant she was stoned.

Snape had leaned back again. After a minute he started to giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"I was thinking I would be in trouble for getting stoned with a student," Snape gasped. "But of course I did a lot worse!" His laughter was slightly hysterical. He put a hand up over his face to hide his eyes. Luna thought he might be weeping. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He shook his head, whether to tell her no or to shake off his memory, it wasn't clear. She pushed his hair back off his face, but it fell forward, lank and limp. "Are you okay, Professor? Severus? Severus? Are you okay?"

He looked up, his pupils blending into the dark of his irises. "No, I'm really not." Then he leaned forward and she fell into his mouth. She was kissing the Potions teacher. His face smelled a little of blood and soap and sweat as she breathed through her nose. She began to rub against him. He broke the kiss. "You aren't really--you aren't going to--" he said. She rubbed her forehead against his cheek. It felt so good, the stubbly skin. She stretched out full length and began to rub against him. Her breasts rubbed through her shirt against his chest. Oh that was lovely.

"This is fun high," she said, her voice doubled. "Fun high," she said again, "it's fun this way." She knew she couldn't kiss his poor, just-healed neck. Oh, had she said that bit out loud? She nuzzled his ear and rubbed her chin repeatedly over his hair.

"You are too stoned to know what you are doing," Snape said sententiously. "You had better stop."

"I can make it fun for you too," she said. "Don't worry." She reached down and opened his flies, and found his cock. He was hard already. "See, it's Mr. Penis! Hello, Mr. Penis!" She laughed, and looked at him for approval, but he seemed dazed. "Talk to Professor Snape now." She pulled the foreskin up and down, and moved the penis back and forth, making it say in a squeaky voice, "Hello Professor Snape, isn't it lovely to be high?"

He made a noise in his throat.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked. "I was only playing." He leaned forward and grabbed her, pushing her back onto the mattress, pushing up her robes and skirt. He nipped at her leg, and then mouthed his way, lips hot and moist, up her inner thigh.

"Oh God," he said, "you're wearing little white knickers with flowers on." He pushed the fabric aside to look. "Little tease," he said. Then he breathed on her clit, so that she squirmed and clutched his hands. "With my mouth first, I think," he said. He licked her first through the fabric of her underpants. She grew impatient and pushed the pants down. "Oh yes, that's it," he said, "shove that little blond pudendum right in my face." He finally put his mouth on her, tongue laving over her clit. It was hot, that tongue.

She ground against his mouth, but he didn't stop--he just groaned against her, so that she felt it in her clit and all her bones. He worked a finger into her, and kept licking. Something about being high made everything just go on and on, so that her own noises sounded foreign and weirdly musical. He had put in a second finger, and then she felt herself going over the edge, her body gripping his hand inside her, her legs shaking a little.

Her shudders subsided and she opened her eyes, and saw that he was sitting up, looking very smug and damp, with his fingers still inside. Then he put his mouth back and lapped again and she gave a little scream. It rang in her ears and she thought she must be coming again, or something, surfeit, overload, shaking like the aftershocks of an earthquake or a thestral landing. He kept on and she thought she must be coming again, coming apart, and she was groaning, and he was, too.

Finally he stopped and sat up, and pulled his hand out. She looked at him as best she could through her slitted eyes and opened her arms. He hesitated and then came down to her embrace.

"We're still wearing all our clothes," she said. "I'm so sleepy." She kissed him. His lips were painted with her secretions and he smelled of her, and he made a gratifying sound against her tongue. They just kissed for a bit. He licked her ear, and her hips started moving against his thigh. "You should take your trousers off," she told him, "or there will be a big wet spot on them." They were already open, so she pushed them down, but they got stuck on his shoes. But then they weren't. She had lost control of her magic a little there, and got his shoes and his robe off. He was still wearing a black t-shirt.

"Don't use magic to disrobe a lover," Snape advised her. He pulled off his shirt, and then removed her robe, and slowly unbuttoned the blouse she wore underneath.

Luna hummed. Lover, lover, that was a lovely word, lover. "This is much more fun than listening to you teach Potions," she said. "Oh!" He bit her earlobe, and she ground her hips against him again.

"If you were high in my class, I don't want to know it."

"See, that's why you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw, and I was, because I want to know everything."

She kept giggling as he pushed down the blouse and undid her brassiere. He put a nipple in his mouth and sucked. She writhed, grinding against him.

"That is brilliant!" Luna breathed. "I love this!"

"You must be so high."

"I am," she said. He snorted. She wanted to explain. "You have an amazing body under there, I had no idea. I didn't really think teachers had bodies, but you have one, just like, you know, any other boy." She rubbed against him, eyes shut, for a moment. "Except, I think there might be more of you in some bits." Snape fell back on the mattress, laughing hard. She looked down at him. "You are having a good time. I'm so glad."

"I don't deserve it," he said, suddenly serious again.

"What do you mean? I know you did bad things, but you had to do them."

"I felt I couldn't say no. I was like a machine, like a tool. I let the Carrows hurt the students, and I just watched. I let people die. I let Harry Potter go to his death, and I didn't know he would survive that."

Luna came down and held him. "You didn't want to do those things."

"Of course not, but I did them. I kept telling myself I would be dead and wouldn't have to face it, in the end."

"Did you look forward to dying?" He nodded. "I did a bit, too. I wasn't sure about it, but I thought maybe I'd see my mum."

He nodded again. When he looked all sad instead of angry like this, he was an entirely different person than the one she remembered. "Do you still want to fuck?"

Snape started to laugh. "You're crazy."

"A lot of people say that," she said. "But I think most people like fucking, don't they? So it's not an odd thing to want to do."

"You enchanted that hashish, didn't you? Because I'm still just as high as I was when we started."

"Yeah, of course," she said, shrugging. "Your neck doesn't hurt any more?"

"Nothing hurts."

"That's because the war is over." She lay down on him full length, and wrapped her arms all around him, and kissed him. "Let's fuck, Professor."

He put his arms around her, too, and rolled them over, so that he was on top of her, with his arm under her shoulder. "You've had intercourse before?"

"Yes." She smiled at his expression. "I know, isn't that odd? I have, though. People are willing to try a lot of things during a war."

She spread her legs and let his cock slide between her lips a little as they humped against each other. He moved the head to tease her outer labia, but didn't try to push in. She nearly came again, pushing her clit against the hard hotness of his penis. She took hold of it and guided the head where she wanted it, and tried to push up onto it. He held himself just out of reach, teasing her with the head, until she pulled him down to her by his buttocks, and he sank into her.

She was surprised that it didn't seem to hurt, this time. She must have said that out loud, because Snape stopped mid-thrust to look at her. He touched her hair.

"More, please," Luna said, tilting her pelvis. He was very obliging, swinging in and out of her, establishing a rhythm. She clutched him and released him, clutched, and released, with muscles she didn't know could do that. Like everything when she was high, it seemed to go on and on, and the repetition was delightful, precise, and perfect, like a note played in unison on several instruments. But then it got more intense, and she realized she might come from it, and gasped, and then she was coming, saying oh as he kept thrusting, kept pumping his buttocks that she was holding tightly in her hands. Finally he stilled and shuddered and gasped and came inside her.

Then he just knelt there, between her legs, his eyes downcast so that all she could see was the top of his head, his heavy brows and his nose.

"No," she said. "That's not allowed. You have to hug me now."

"What?"

"You can't have an orgasm and then stay feeling sad. That's not what being high is for. You come right here," she pointed to her sternum. "Lie down."

He did, resting his head between her breasts. "Now what?"

"Now I tell you that was wonderful and you act modest about your spectacular sexual performance."

He snickered. "All right."

"And then you can sleep for a bit."

"No, I can't do that--"

She tipped his head up so that he could look at her. "I am a witch," she said. A little thrill went through her. It was true. Her power was not based on spells or incantations. "I will make this all right."

He nodded.

"I want a duvet," she said, and the Room made them one. It always gave people what they needed.