Word Count: ~3500
Prompt: 85. Snape/Luna. Bondage. Luna is a medi-witch (or assistant to a medi-witch/wizard)
Summary: Luna is determined to cure her former professor. Snape, predictably, isn't too excited about this idea.
Notes: Written for the Farewell FQF at daily_deviant. Originally posted July 21, 2007. This fic is AU as of the release of Book 7.
Compliant to: HBP, Postwar, but no spoilers unless I accidentally created some.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are fictional adults. No infringement is intended, and none of the characters are mine. Please love me.
Somewhere, in the back of a Ministry-approved long-term care facility, there was a room. It was locked and heavily warded, and staff members would take the long way 'round the building rather than passing this particular room. Inside, the room was white and quiet, utterly sterile. In the centre of the room was a bed. On the bed was a patient, wearing dingy grey robes. He was fast asleep and yet still managed to look very tired.
In the doorway stood a young woman, clad in sombre black robes. Her blonde hair was piled atop her head, fixed in place by her wand. She stared intently at a small clock sitting on the floor next to the bed.
Something was going to happen.
And it did.
Buzz. Buzz buzz buzz. Buzzzzz.
She grinned widely as the clock sounded and took a few swift steps into the room, scooping up the clock and depositing it on the chest of her sleepy patient.
The patient groaned and rolled over, dislodging the clock. It slipped off of his chest and bounced onto the mattress, still buzzing insistently.
"Professor Snape," the young woman said, voice light and airy, "it's time for your treatment."
"Sod off," he grumbled, now fully awake and trying desperately not to be.
She ignored him and pulled her wand from her hair, shaking it at the alarm clock, which took flight and hovered right above the man's ear. Buzz. Buzz buzz buzz!
Snape growled ferociously, groping under his pillow for his own wand. The young woman stood passively by the bed, watching as her charge twitched his wand at the clock, which promptly burst into flames and fell to the ground.
"Sir," she said, "that's the twenty-seventh clock you've destroyed this month." She pointed her own wand at the pile of ashes, which promptly disappeared.
"I'll continue to destroy them, you lunatic, so long as you continue to use them to aggravate me," he grumbled, pulling the sheets up to his chin and rolling over, away from the prying eyes of the woman.
"My name is Luna," she said, tugging on the man's blanket. "I know it's quite close to the word lunatic, but it's not the same. And besides. You know why we have the clocks. It's Ministry policy, sir," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.
He resolutely ignored her, which seemed to work well enough. She sighed heavily and then spun on her heel and left the room.
Everyday progressed in much the same fashion. Luna stared curiously at her patient, who seemed bound and determined to make absolutely no progress in his healing. He didn't bother complying with treatment or medication or any of the prescribed therapies. Rather, he seemed to have much invested in simply remaining ill.
He did have something to gain from his lengthy convalescence: as a patient in high-security Ministry care, he was permitted no visitors, no Floo calls, no talking portraits, nothing. He was being left completely, blissfully alone. For someone like Severus Snape, this was heaven.
But Snape was awake at least, and he did talk to Luna, even if most of the conversations made little to no sense to anyone, most especially to Snape himself. Even though he would probably never admit it, he'd made more progress under Luna's care than he had with any of the other thirty-two professionals who had been assigned to him in the past year and a half.
To Luna, however, having her patient awake and conscious wasn't nearly enough to satisfy her. As bizarre as she was, she'd gathered quite a reputation amongst her colleagues as the one Mediwitch who would simply never, ever give up on a patient. She had rather startling successes in a short amount of time with some of the most difficult patients to come under her care, so it was no surprise when she demurely raised her hand and offered to take "the Snape case."
On the thirtieth day of tending solely to her former professor, however, she realised bleakly that he wasn't progressing nearly as quickly as she'd hoped. And so it was that she strode resolutely into his room early one morning while he was still asleep, a small knapsack over her shoulder.
"Wake up, Professor," she said blandly from the doorway. "Or, rather, please get up. I know you wake up with the sun every morning."
He ignored her and instead covered his head with his pillow.
Luna sighed and shrugged. "Have it your way, sir," she said, flicking her wand at the door, which locked behind her. She flicked her wand again at the bed and banished Snape's sheets and pillow. Caught by surprise, Snape groped for his wand, but Luna banished that, too. Furious, he sat up abruptly, hands clutching at the flimsy cotton robe he'd been given to wear and stared at Luna in complete horror.
"What do you think you are doing?" he asked, expression livid. "You can't just take those away."
"Afraid I can, sir," she said, knotting her hair absently on top of her head. She fixed it in place with a gaudy elastic with plastic baubles on the ends. "It's in the Code."
"Oh, to hell with your Code," he groused. Snape shifted uncomfortably, tucking his legs underneath his body. "Can't you just leave me be?"
"Afraid I can't, sir," Luna replied. "I have to get all of my patients better. It's kind of like teaching, where they expect you to produce students that aren't failures. I guess that's why you didn't like teaching, sir. You rather liked failing students." She crouched on the floor, opening her knapsack and pulling out a rather large quantity of black fabric.
Snape stared curiously at the fabric, which Luna piled at the foot of his bed. "What do you think--"
"Don't ask questions, sir. I've found that my patients rarely understand their treatments. It's above their level of experience."
"You mean to tell me that I couldn't possibly understand whatever inane idea you've come up with to torment me with now? For all you know, I invented it."
"You only invented mean jinxes and potions," she said. "This was invented a long time ago, before you were even born. Ancient history, practically."
Snape sputtered angrily from his position on the bed, yelling something about age and wisdom and what he'd do if he had a wand. Luna ignored him and instead sorted through her strips of fabric, setting them out according to size. She picked up the shortest one and held it in one fist.
"Now we're going to start your treatment, sir. You might not like it, but it's cured every other patient I've had. Even the one who was being attacked by nargles at all hours of the night. Poor fellow, I think he still might be a bit mad, but the Ministry said we had to release him. Something about not having enough Galleons to cover any more treatments." She shrugged innocently. "But I think he was cured."
"You think he was cured?" Snape glared at her. "And you presume you’re going to use this treatment on me?"
"Oh, yes," she said eagerly, a smile lighting up her face. "I'm so glad you see where I'm coming from on this, sir."
"That wasn't the point I was trying to make, and you know it."
She didn't answer, and instead approached the bed, pieces of fabric trailing from her closed fist. "Now I'm going to have to ask you to just do what I tell you, or I'm afraid I'll have to ask my supervisor to join us for today's treatment, and I don't think you'd like that very much."
"At least your supervisor is competent at his job! You seem to be making it up as you go along." Snape pointed a threatening finger at Luna.
"Oh, no, no, it's all in the Code." She paused, thinking over her answer. "Well, most of it is in there. Now, if I could just get you to close your eyes for me?"
"I most certainly think not," he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Fine," Luna sighed. "Have it your way. Petrificus totalus."
Before Snape could protest any more, his whole body went rigid and he toppled over on the bed. "There, there," Luna said, advancing and patting her former professor lightly on the shoulder while he couldn't protest. "I'm sorry you're not interesting in cooperating yet. It's so much more fun when you do."
She draped her handful of fabric over Snape's torso, picking up the smallest piece again. "Now, I'm going to start with this one, and then one more, and then I'm going to let you move again. But now I'm going to start your treatment." With that, she tied the smallest strip of fabric snugly around Snape's eyes.
"Can you see anything?" she asked, then giggled. "Oh, that's right, you can't speak. Well, I'll just say you can't." Luna shrugged and then began working on covering Snape's mouth with the second piece of fabric. When she tied the knot securely at the back of his head, she tapped her wand lightly across his lips. "And now you really, really can't speak. Ready to move again?"
Although Snape couldn't move a muscle, she could have sworn that he shot a murderous glare at her. With a smile on her lips, she shook her wand again; instantly, Snape started flailing on the bed. His fingers clawed at the blindfold and makeshift gag to no avail. Snape made a rather inarticulate growl; Luna sighed and flicked her wand again. Snape immediately went rigid and flopped down on the mattress.
"Now listen," she said, "I am the Mediwitch here, not you. Mostly because you're the one with the penis, because that would make you a Mediwizard. But that's neither here nor there!" Luna smiled broadly, not that Snape could see it. "Now! If you'll just kindly let me do my job, perhaps we can have you out of here. Maybe you can be a Mediwizard once you're done being a patient. Patients might listen to you more than they listen to me."
She shook her wand again, and Snape re-animated, scooting over to the edge of the bed furthest away from Luna. "If you keep trying to get away from me," she said lazily, picking up the strips of fabric that Snape had scattered whilst thrashing on the bed, "then this is really just not going to be any fun. And treatment should be fun! More fun than hunting Death Eaters and avoiding the snipple-cramplys that used to sit in the break room when I first started here."
Snape stopped moving and simply turned and scowled at Luna (an impressive feat, given that most of his face was covered in fabric). "Silly duck," she mused, patting him on the head. "Now. Will you let me do my job? I would always let you do your job, when you still had one."
He didn't respond, or really even move a muscle. "I'll take that to mean yes," she said brightly. With that, she jumped up on the bed, seating herself in front of Snape. "Now I'm just going to sit here for a bit, okay? See? I'm right here, and I'm not doing anything naughty yet."
The arched eyebrows that peeked out from underneath the blindfold clearly telegraphed the way he felt about that insinuation.
She ignored his little gesture and pressed on, scooting so that she was seated directly in front of her patient. "Now," she said, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face, "are you going to really let me do my job?"
Snape grunted noncommittally and tried to inch away from Luna.
"I'lll take that as a no," she said sadly. With that, she flicked her wand again, and Snape fell back bonelessly on the bed. She giggled as he keeled over, arms flopping uselessly over the sides of the bed. "Now you can't complain, or squirm, or be silly," she announced, clambering up on the bed to kneel next to Snape's chest. She reached down and slipped the blindfold off, and then pressed a small, cold finger to the tip of Snape's nose.
"Where was I?" she mused, tapping her wand against her thigh. "Oh, yes! Treatment. Here we are." She twitched her wand at the pile of fabric, which shot across the bed. Two wound their way around the iron bedframe at Snape's feet, while another slithered across Snape's body, catching each of his wrists in turn and binding them together. The former professor stared at Luna, aghast, equal parts fear and anger in his eyes.
"Don't worry, Professor," Luna said, catching the look in his eyes. "No one's ever gotten hurt any worse than they already were by my treatments." He scowled, muttering through the gag, clearly disbelieving her words. She ignored his mumblings and glanced over his body, inspecting her wandwork. By the time all of the sashes were in place, Snape's ankles were lashed to the bedfrane, his wrists were bound, and his upper body was secured to the bed by a particularly long strip of fabric.
"There!" Luna exclaimed, clapping gleefully. Snape scowled at her as best he could with the gag still in place. "All secure there? Can't get up and go running around dancing in the halls now?" The message he conveyed with his eyebrows clearly said that he was not at all interested in that idea. Luna, however, rather thought that his expression said that he'd truly love to go out and help with the pesky rumbly-snurflage infestation in the third floor loo.
"One thing, sir, and then we'll get started." She flicked her wand again and suddenly Snape sprang back to life, straining against his bonds with a growl of fury. Luna watched the scene with a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know, this will be so much easier if you stop fussing. The treatment just doesn't work as well if you struggle so much."
That only made Snape struggle even more. He shouted through his gage, which made him utterly incomprehensible. Snape twisted and writhed on the bed, thin nightgown riding up his body, a thin sheen of sweat covering his brow.
"Professor," Luna said quietly, but with strength in her voice. He stopped fussing when she spoke and instead sagged back down onto the bed, looking a little defeated. "There. Now if you promise, really promise, I'll take this off." She tapped the gag as she spoke. "It's more fun if you can make real noise, anyhow. Do you promise?"
He glared at her.
"I'll say that means yes, then," she said, reaching forward and slipping the gag out of his mouth.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he raged, trying to roll over and failing miserably. "This is no treatment, you unqualified lunatic, this is torture!"
"Actually, it should be rather pleasant," she said mildly, sliding from the bed. She stepped lightly across the floor to stand at the foot of the bed, facing Snape. Without another word, she freed her hair from the elastic, letting it cascade down over her shoulders. Next, she undid the fastenings on her heavy work robe, slipping it from her body. She was entirely naked underneath, all beautiful, brilliant, pale white skin, and Snape barely held back a little gasp at the sight of it.
"What are you doing?" he asked again, brows knit together in thought. Luna Lovegood was one impertinent little brat that he never quite figured out, and she was possibly even more confusing now that she was completely naked.
"Treatment, sir," she said, a lopsided smile crossing her face. She advanced to the bed then, sliding gracefully up onto it. Snape sputtered wildly as she moved to straddle him, wiggling just so against his body as she moved. "You see," Luna explained as her fingers clutched the thin fabric of Snape's nightshirt, tugging it up over his hips to free his already growing erection, "I don't know why this works, but it does." She patted him gently on the stomach as she finished her work with the nightshirt. "I read about it once in a book that daddy had, I think it was a Muggle book. But it seemed like a good idea, and it always works."
Snape, for once, seemed stunned into silence as Luna wriggled, her skin warm against his own, which was cold no matter how much he exerted himself trying to gain freedom from his bonds.
"Now just sit back and try to relax," she said, running her fingertips lightly across Snape's stomach, down his thighs, and backs up. "Treatment should be fun!"
"I-- you-- what--?" He was completely lost for once, without words, with no snippy retorts with which to cut her down. Luna rather liked this new side of Professor Snape. Maybe he was only nice and polite when his pants were off.
Snape stammered uselessly, trying to twist away from Luna, who was dangerously close to his erection. She paid him no mind, though, and instead trailed her fingers up her own thigh, pausing to ghost them lightly over her skin. Luna whimpered as her fingertips brushed against sensitive skin. She looked down and met Snape's eyes, a smile on her lips as she spread herself with her fingers. "You see?" she breathed, a little gasp punctuating her words as she slipped her index finger inside of herself. "You see how good it is?"
Snape swallowed heavily, eyes locked on Luna's hand, with her fingers twisting and pushing and fucking. He strained against the bonds, hips thrusting up involuntarily to try to claim what Luna was offering.
"Do you see?" She dropped her hand away from her body, resting it flat on Snape's thigh.
"Yes," he said, voice hoarse from disuse. "I do."
"Good," she replied. "Then the treatment shall work." With that, she slipped her hand up to grasp his cock, stroking it deftly. Snape groaned as Luna touched him; she hummed happily under her breath as she prepared him. Without further ado, Luna used one hand to spread herself open, the other hand holding his cock in place, and lowered herself down onto his erection.
"Oh," she said, eyelids flickering shut. "Oh, yes." She settled herself on top of him, adjusting to the feel of him inside of her. She sat there for a long while, wiggling and twisting experimentally, before Snape pushed up with his hips.
"Please," he said, not looking at her, looking anywhere but at her, as he practically begged for the young woman to just go ahead and use him.
"Of course," she said, and then she started moving in earnest, up and down over his cock, pulling away long enough to make him whine with frustration and need. "You know," she said, still managing to keep a conversation up despite the wicked things she was doing atop Snape, "I really was right, that this would make you better. No one believed me, but they never do."
As she spoke, she let her hands roam her body, cupping her own breasts, tweaking a nipple, running down the flat of her stomach. Snape twisted in his bonds, trying to move faster. He was hampered by Luna's special brand of treatment, though, so he could only just recline on the bed and wait for Luna to finish.
Based on the erratic way in which she was moving, and based on the way that her entire body seemed to curl in around Snape, that time was near. She doubled over, pressing her upper body against Snape's, and craned her neck to whisper in his ear. "When we are done," she said, voice breathy, "you will be well. Cured of it, whatever is wrong with you." She sighed as she thrust down against him again. "You can leave this place. You can stay on and work. You can have your life back. You can have a new life."
Snape groaned and pushed up into her. "I-- I think--"
"Do you promise?" she asked?
"Yes," he replied through gritted teeth.
"Then go," she said, pushing against him one last time. "Be free of it." With that, she pressed her lips to his in an inexperienced, slightly fumbling kiss. Snape groaned into the kiss, body rigid, as he came, and Luna followed him with a sigh and a slight shiver.
After a long silence, Luna stirred disentangling herself from Snape. Carefully, reverently, even lovingly, she slowly undid all of Snape's bonds and coaxed him to sitting in the middle of the bed.
"Go, Severus Snape," she said, one pale hand pressed flat against his chest, just over his heart. "Be free of it."