Length: 100 X 2
Team: Death Eaters
Summary: What it says on the tin.
A/N: No beta harmed, no money made, no leather flogged in the making of this drabble, more’s the pity…
The whip was made of black leather; tooled with metal studs. Its dozen straps were over a foot long, and tipped with sharp silver barbs.
Hermione looked at it carefully, then raised her eyes to the man opposite her. He regarded the flogger with interest, his dark eyes alight with something indefinable.
“Impressive. I’ll bet this could inflict a great deal of pain,” she said, her eyes fixated on the black straps.
Her partner smirked in that oh-so-familiar way. “I never knew you had a penchant for leather, Granger. This may change my entire opinion of you and your proclivities.”
She shrugged. “I don’t need a leather fetish to know that this is probably the murder weapon, do I?”
He saw the lethal whip sitting comfortably in her capable palm, and a look passed between them that had nothing to do with the case they were on. It spoke of their burgeoning, more private partnership, the one the Aurory didn’t know about. His black eyes began to smolder.
“You know, you look very much at home with a whip in your hand, Auror Granger,” he purred.
She smiled. “You always struck me as a man who appreciated leather, Auror Snape.”