The Burning Pen

Through the Looking Glass
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 62

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 62 ~ Oh, the Debauchery!

Snape walked over to the large high-backed chair and sat down stiffly. Harry approached with a green and silver scepter and crown in his hands as the wizard scowled at him.

”Um, for the man of the hour,” Harry murmured, offering the items to Snape.

Again, Hermione’s frowning face popped into the Potions master’s mind, and he took the crown, placed it on his head, then took the scepter. Harry seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as he walked away and joined his fellow Gryffindors, who were all staring at Lucius as if they expected him to explode.

”What I don’t do for that witch,” Snape thought as he adjusted his crown.

Lucius walked over to the libations table and poured himself a drink, then turned and lifted it toward Snape, the others following suit. He had his silver-tipped cane with him.

”To Severus Snape who has managed to procure himself a fertile young bride, albeit, a Muggleborn. May you find as much happiness as is possible for a wizard such as yourself,” he said.

Everyone toasted Snape, who looked at Lucius with narrowed black eyes. That toast was rather insulting, but he did nothing but nod. He watched as they all drank to him, some of the Gryffindors coughing as the Firewhiskey went down. They were just starting out. Lucius returned his cup to the table and walked directly in front of Snape.

”Now, for the entertainment,” he said, stepping aside and clapping his hands together.

Vivaldi’s music stopped and a drumbeat began.

”Eyes front, gentlemen,” Lucius said, drawing his wand and flicking it toward the dark side of the room. Torches flared up.

”Bloody hell,” Ron breathed as he stared.

Standing against the far wall were twenty women, all similarly dressed in black brassieres and thongs, with sheer black fabric falling like extended loin clothes before and aft. All wore black nail polish on their manicured fingers and toes. They were barefoot and quite the mix of races and colors. One woman was huge in stature, but proportionate. In other words, Hagrid-sized. There was another that was quite tiny that immediately attracted Flitwick’s attention. His two horn-like white curls seemed to curl tighter as he looked at her.

The Death Eaters let out whoops and expletives as Harry and his friends just stared at the women with open mouths. You couldn’t say which was more beautiful.

Snape just eyed them. They were fittingly attractive, but too perfect. The kind of women he had never stood a chance with when he was single and poor.

”Are they dancers?” George blurted out.

Lucius smirked at him.

”Well, Mr. Weasley, they can dance, among other things.”

He gestured to a curvaceous blonde, who separated from the group and walked up to Lucius sexily, her hips rolling like thunder as the Death Eaters hooted appreciatively. Hagrid’s eyes didn’t leave the half-giant sized beauty. She stopped beside him.

”Kiss me,” Lucius told the woman, who leaned in and covered his mouth with her own, slipping him the tongue and rubbing her body against his as the others watched.

”Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” cried MacNair, slapping another leering Death Eater on the back as Lucius tonsil wrestled the blonde beauty.

Lucius broke the kiss and looked at the group.

”They are very accommodating,” he said softly, caressing the woman’s blonde hair gently. Suddenly, he grasped the top of his cane, pulled out a sharp thin sword and drove it through the woman’s belly, the blade protruding from the other side as the Death Eaters shouted in glee.

”What the fuck are you doing?” Harry cried, pulling out his wand

Snape started and both the Gryffindors and staff members pulled their wands as well. The Death Eaters followed suit and there was a stand-off.

The woman stood there, looking at Lucius calmly, and the wizard withdrew his blade, the bloodless wound sealing itself. Amazed, everyone lowered their wands.

”That should have killed her,” Harry breathed.

”If she were alive, Mr. Potter, it would have. However—she isn’t. She feels no pain and cannot die. She will however, fade away when her purpose is served. These are not flesh and blood women, but Pleasure golems. For all intents and purposes, nothing more than animate sex toys. You can treat them however you wish. And for those of you who have not yet experienced the pleasure of a woman, these will be excellent practice, although technically you will remain virgins. They will serve you food and drink, and do anything you ask of them as well as allow you to do what you wish to them. For those of you who are married or involved with a witch, you are off the hook as far as cheating goes. Indulging yourself is just like wanking off with an aid.”

Here the pureblood looked at Severus.

”Serve our honored guest,” he said to the golem next to him.

She smiled at Snape, who wore a stony expression, then walked over to the food table and collected a number of finger foods, then over to the liquor table and poured him a drink. Holding the plate high, she walked over to Snape, everyone’s eyes locked to her round arse visible beneath the sheer cloth. She knelt before Snape, offering him both the food and drink, her head bowed.

Snape studied her, and started to take the plate.

”No, Severus. She will feed you,” Lucius replied as the woman rose, plucked a tidbit off the plate and held it before the wizard’s mouth, looking at him sloe-eyed. Snape slowly opened his mouth and she slid the food between his lips, letting her fingers linger on them a moment as he chewed. A cry of approval rose from the Death Eaters.

All the Gryffindors looked back toward the women. Were they dreaming?

”Damn Harry, this has to be the best bachelor party ever thrown!” Dean breathed, his brown eyes resting on a black golem with long kinky hair, a well-endowed body and doe-like eyes.

”I—I think I should go, Harry. This is a bit—much,” Neville breathed. He was pale and looked scared to death.

Ron grabbed Neville’s arm tightly, not taking his eyes off the golems.

”Are you insane, Neville? Look at them! Who cares if they’re golems? They’ll do whatever we want! You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay here and take it like a wizard,” Ron hissed. “You’re a bloody Gryffindor. Where’s your courage?”

Fred and George were rubbing their hands together lustfully.

”This beats Blue Pensieves by miles,” Fred said to his brother.

”Interactive,” George agreed. “Very nice.”

Harry however, looked torn. These were the sexiest female forms he’d ever seen in his life. They were the stuff fantasies were made of. Part of him wanted to explore these golems fully, but that Gryffindor sense of honor made him hedge. He went out with Ginny after all. He looked over at Ron.

”I don’t think Ginny would approve of this, Ron,” Harry said doubtfully.

Ron had absolutely no qualms about fucking a golem, particularly any golem that looked like these. His face screwed up in mock horror as Harry invoked the name of his sister.

”What? You’re not cheating, Harry. They’re golems. Even if you’re under Veritaserum, you can say you weren’t with a woman at the bachelor party. Hell, I’m not going to let Lavender get in the way of this. No way!”

”All right, ladies. Mingle, serve and obey!” Lucius said to the golems who all walked forward, went to the tables, collected food and drink and began mingling with the wizards, Snape watching from his throne. He noticed the golems were really pushing the liquor. Several Death Eaters were already surrounding a golem, the creature dropping down in the midst of them and disappearing as they crowded about, unfastening their robes.

Snape waved away the golem serving him and every other one that approached him. He wouldn’t be party to this, but it would be interesting to watch the Gryffindors handle the situation. Probably very entertaining as well.

Snape smirked as he saw Neville pressed against the wall, red-faced as two golems focused on him, one feeding him and the other offering him liquor. He gulped the shot of harsh liquor down, rasping, only to be offered more. He’d be completely inebriated in no time.

Fred and George had a very buxom golem in a corner, both of them feeling her up unabashedly, exclaiming over how real she felt as they fondled her body.

”Oh, these are great, Fred,” George panted as he came up from between her exposed breasts. “We have to ask Lord Malfoy where he got them. We need to start an account with the producer. Imagine these in the Wanking Grounds. We could rent them out as sex aids and make a fortune.”

Fred, who was opening his trousers and pulling out a long, red erection ready for a bit of mouth action, heartily agreed.

Hagrid was sitting on a chair, the over-sized golem sitting on his lap, apparently listening to him as he tried to make conversation.

”Er—yah come ‘ere of’en?” he ventured, not knowing what to do with his hands.

Lucius walked up and studied the half-giant.

”She’s not a conversationalist, Hagrid,” he informed the big oaf. “She’s for pleasure. For fucking.”

Hagrid reddened as he flicked his eyes up at the lovely golem, who smiled at him softly.

”Merlin,” Lucius breathed in disgust. “I see you’re sorely in need of a jump start. Do him.”

At Lucius’ order, the golem wrapped her arms around Hagrid’s neck and kissed him deeply, pressing into his large body. Hagrid started to respond, caressing her back, his large hands moving over her skin.

Lucius shook his head, then continued moving around the room, encouraging the guests. He looked up to see Snape watching but not participating. He was always like that, even at the revels. There was a time Lucius admired Snape’s sexual prowess, but he had been younger then, and his partners female Death Eaters who he seemed to take great pleasure in punishing for no other reason than he knew they wouldn’t have accepted him except for his favor with the Dark Lord. Upon Voldemort’s return and the instituting of the revels, Snape no longer displayed any interest in partaking of the fleshly bounty, preferring to kill the victims afterwards. That was his pleasure. Lucius often wondered if he had necrophilistic tendencies, preferring dead women to live ones after Lily’s death.

Ever alert, Lucius looked around for Flitwick and found him and the tiny golem under the food table, the wizard’s face planted squarely between the golem’s thighs.

Lucius was impressed. When it came to the ancient little Charms master, there might be snow on the turrets, but the lips were smoking.

Snape watched as the guests became drunker and bolder, even Harry participating in sex with the golems. But Snape found him garden variety randy, nothing special. But Neville Longbottom was a bit of a surprise. He had joined in with the Death Eaters and was rather abusive once he got started, egged on by the dark wizards as he gagged and buggered two golems at once. Snape’s eyes narrowed as he noticed how rounded Neville’s bum was. He was bound to attract the attention of the Death Eaters, who had no qualms with anal sex.

”Hey Neville,” Amycus called out to the panting Gryffindor, who was fully naked and covered in sweat, wetness pouring down his back and into the crease of his arse. Amycus’ lusty eyes rested on him as Neville grunted an answer.

”Ever have your prostate stroked, mate? It’s the ultimate pleasure,” the Death Eater breathed.

Neville was caught up in sensation and answered in the negative as he kept at the golems. Next thing he knew, he was being penetrated by Amycus, who cast a silencing spell around them, so no one else would hear. But everyone was so drunk, Neville’s plight was only seen by Snape, who did nothing. Neville Longbottom was finally living up to his name as the Death Eaters took their turns on him. The young wizard was so drunk, he wouldn’t remember who did what to him. Witches weren’t the only ones who needed to be able to hold their liquors in the presence of randy, unscrupulous men.

Ah well, a lesson learned.

Lucius finally joined the festivities, being serviced by three sexy golems at once, and inviting Ron and Harry over, a leer on his face as he watched them defile themselves, lost to excess and lust. This was a true joy and Lucius was sure that Harry wouldn’t be able to reconcile his actions later on, so these memories might be good for a bit of extortion in the future. Snape thought the same thing.

So the night went, all of his guests indulging themselves as if at the best of Voldemort’s revels, and Snape presiding over it like Caligula presided over the debauchery of his court centuries ago. As the exhausted revelers wound down, sprawled naked on the floor, drunk and sated, the golems returned to their positions against the wall, then faded away.

Snape looked at the overturned tables, scattered food, naked arses and shook his head. He stood up, placed his crown and scepter on the throne and exited the den of iniquity. He had done as Hermione asked. It had been mildly entertaining, especially when Ron projectile vomited on Lucius while they were sharing a golem. He blasted the pureblood right in the face, not missing a stroke. Definitely a gag-worthy moment in the annals of sexual depravity.

It was a night he would never forget.

As he made his way out of the castle and to his coach, Snape wondered if Hermione would want details. The dark wizard smirked.

He was very tempted to give her a Pensieve of it.

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Hermione spent the next week apologizing to Snape for making him go to the bachelor party. She had indeed pressed him for details and he did indeed give her a Pensieve of it. To say she was horrified was an understatement.

And poor Harry. Hermione lit into him so hard that his ears turned red and started smoking as she condemned him.

”That wasn’t a bachelor party, Harry! That was—that was—I don’t even know how to describe what that was! And poor Neville getting buggered by all those Death Eaters! It was awful! I should have never let you throw Severus that party. He may be scarred for life!”

Harry blinked at her. Yes, it was pretty bad—but Snape scarred by it? Never. He watched the entire thing without attempting to stop any of it. Harry was sure he had seen worse.

“It wasn’t me, Hermione. Lucius Malfoy arranged the entertainment,” Harry said weakly.

”But you should have known better than to trust a Malfoy, Harry! And you were right there in the middle of it, shagging golems as if it were going out of style! It’s just—disgusting. I don’t even want to begin on Ron and Fred and George! And—Flitwick and Hagrid! My gods, Harry!”

Harry apologized nearly a hundred times, but Hermione was furious at him.

”Well, I won’t come to the wedding, then, Hermione,” he said heavily, “since you’re so mad at me. I might ruin it for you.”

This brought Hermione up short. She sighed.

”No, I want you at the wedding, Harry. No matter how much of a disaster the bachelor party was, I know you really did it because you wanted to show Severus a good time. You gave him the party because you cared enough to reach out to him because he’s an important part of my life. That’s what really matters, Harry. You were trying to be a good friend and supportive. I do appreciate that.”

Harry blinked at her.

”Thanks, Hermione,” he said softly. He looked like a whipped house elf.

”But you’ll never be put in charge of another party concerning me or Severus for the rest of your life!” she added.

”That’s fine,” Harry said.

Harry really was sorry, but sorry that Hermione found out what happened at the party, not about what happened itself. It had been the wildest night of his life as well as the lives of his fellow Gryffindors. He hadn’t been aware of what happened to Neville, since he didn’t say anything about it. Actually, Neville was just as enthusiastic about how great the party was as the rest of them. Maybe he naturally went both ways and didn’t know it until that night.

Anyway, Snape wasn’t supposed to tell Hermione. What happened at bachelor parties was usually kept a secret from any females remotely involved in the upcoming nuptials. But, Snape was Snape. He probably did it on purpose so Hermione wouldn’t insist he participate in anything else Harry might do. He was nasty that way.

Hermione returned to London every night for the next week as Snape made it a point to seem quite negatively affected by the bachelor party. Hermione even offered to have a night of intimacy, which would break their self-imposed celibacy.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly, Hermione,” Snape told her soberly. “It’s—it’s too soon.”

Hermione pampered and worried over him, waiting on the wizard hand and foot in an attempt to make him feel better. She cooked, drew his bath, massaged his feet and brewed many of the stinkiest potions he had on his list. Snape enjoyed her guilty ministrations very much.

But Hermione didn’t have to worry about the dark wizard’s “traumatic” experience. He’d be fully recovered from his ordeal by the wedding night, she could count on that.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.

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