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Bibliomancer by bibliomancer [Reviews - 1]

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The next months passed without incident. Professor Snape relished his post as Defence Against the Dark Arts Master, dolling out excessively difficult assignments and grading them harshly. Many evenings, he continued his private tutelage of Draco Malfoy, teaching the youth knowledge about the Dark Arts that he dared not reveal in the classroom. He also introduced the study of Occlumency to the boy. But unlike Adoxa, who was a natural and made rapid progress in the subject, Draco lacked both aptitude and interest.


Adoxa herself sent biweekly letters to Narcissa, extolling Draco's virtues, which garnered many cheerful replies from the youth's mother. Narcissa had long since stopped sending tuck boxes to Draco each week and smothering him with affection. Now, she simply looked on from a distance, living vicariously though Adoxa's letters and anxiously awaiting the end of term when Draco would return home. She longed for her husband's speedy return as well but dared not allow herself much hope.


Narcissa had heard whispers of the Dark Lord plotting a coup to free his incarcerated servants from Azkaban, but not even Bellatrix would validate the rumours. In truth, her sister had become increasingly distant since Lucius' trial, treating her with bored contempt when their interaction was inevitable.


When not at work or composing friendly letters to the long-suffering Narcissa Malfoy, Adoxa embarked on her own research. While her husband spent his free time perfecting a preventative antidote against Nagini's fatal bite, with which he dosed himself daily, Adoxa plotted her own intrigue.


Beginning that first night, when the Atramentum Veritatis had proven successful, Adoxa applied herself to uncovering unexpected applications for the concoction. Now, in addition to glimpsing the future, she had revealed in it the ability to uncover falsities, forge Muggle and Wizard paperwork and force true thoughts from any who dared dip their quills into the corrupted ink. Adoxa understood that her beloved husband was truly a Potions Master of the highest degree. The ink was his magnum opus; his genius deserved reward.


One Saturday afternoon, under the pretence of 'verifying' her discovery while satisfying a rare, mischievous impulse, Adoxa swapped the regular ink at Snape's desk with Ink of Truth. Later that evening, when they had returned from dinner in the Great Hall and Snape bent his head to study and write, as was his habit, Adoxa crawled under his desk and began tormenting him as he tried to work. He tried in vain to keep her out of his lap but she persisted, unbuttoning his trousers and taking his flesh into her hand, teasing him with her tongue.


Snape conceded; his wife's attentions, though unsolicited, were not entirely unwanted. Uttering a throaty moan, he sunk one hand into her hair and with the other, picked up his quill to resume his work. But when quill touched parchment, a sudden stream of obscenities flowed forth, the dark desires of the Dark Arts Master recorded in bold, black ink. Snape sputtered with horror as Adoxa struggled to contain her amusement, her giggles muffled between his thighs.


A scarce moment later, she found herself immobilized in that same chair, legs splayed wide and skirts hiked up, under the strict order to write out a to-do list for that weekend. As she set quill to parchment, Snape teased her expertly in return, his long fingers and skillful tongue an impossible distraction.


The resulting list formed the basis of their activities that weekend and Snape derived great pleasure from performing each disturbing entry with meticulous attention to detail. The magical and mundane. The sweet and sadistic. Of potions to dull the senses and salves to heighten them. Curses like daggers, charms like chains, the very air she breathed, a gag in her mouth. Snape savoured every moment, granting both pleasure and pain to the woman who loved him, deeply flawed though he was. She was no angel herself, a bit too much dark to that light.


As night turned to day, Adoxa begged for respite but Snape continued, unperturbed. When her cries reached their crescendo, he reminded her that she had requested every single moment of torment. “Atramentum veritatis solam veritatem scribit,” he whispered silkily in response to her plea, reminding her that the Ink of Truth writes only the truth. Pain and pleasure, she longed for both and he made it so, more, even, than she could take.


After that night, memorable though it was, Adoxa concluded that, in future, she would think twice before acting on such whims. Her husband seemed only too willing to oblige.


Returning to more serious avenues of research, considering the dangers beyond their dungeon walls, Snape and Adoxa conceived of a curious idea: to create a copy of 'Secrets of the Darkest Art.' Indistinguishable from the forgery, which they had discovered within Flourish's collection, Adoxa employed both her magical and Muggle skills in reproducing the work. Such a book could have its uses, after all. The Dark Lord himself had expressed interest in the tome not so long ago. Might he desire it still?


Impervious to Revealing spells, the book could pass as genuine but Adoxa took many liberties with its content. Since the Ink of Truth was able to reveal inconsistencies between the forgery, in their possession, and the original, removed years before from the Hogwarts library, they used the knowledge to their advantage, forging a more convincing copy.


Through his mastery of the Dark Arts and extended study of the text, Snape advised Adoxa on the necessary alterations. She listened, making the corrections in flawless, highly-styled calligraphy. What she created was a perfect forgery, down to the yellowed parchment, embossed cover, gruesome illustrations and dark spellcraft, effortlessly employing the Ink of Truth.


Now, with the tome complete, all that remained was the agonizing wait for a perfect opportunity to present itself. And then victory ... or death.


Bibliomancer by bibliomancer [Reviews - 1]

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