Voldemort’s Spy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            She lay silently in the bed. No sleep would come, she knew, but still, there she lay.

            Evil permeated everything in the room, even her. Her heart was frozen by it. Hate rushed through her veins where blood should have been. She did not lament this. She did not care. She was beyond caring. She had lost that when he had chosen her.

            Outside, she could hear the wind howling, the storm raging, but inside, she felt nothing. She was hollow and the world held no joy or pain. There was simply nothing.

            He would come, she knew. She would do what he wanted, as always, with no emotion attached. She was chosen; she had a duty, a responsibility, to him that must be fulfilled. She had been born for this purpose alone.

            There had been a time when she knew what caring felt like. She had known pain as well as joy, once. But that was long ago, and she never thought of it. There was no point to such memories. She only wished for the day when the prophecy would be fulfilled and he would kill her.

            Her body was repulsed by his touch, each time, but she paid it no mind. Her body tried to revolt, to rebel, but she forced it into a compliant state and worked diligently to fulfill her duty.

            She waited. He did not come. She wished for sleep, for daylight, for something to happen, something to change, but nothing did.

            Then she felt it. She reached for the pain with such a quick reflex. Her hand grasped her right forearm as she almost gasped from the sudden pain of his call. ‘Why now?’ she wondered, ‘Why at all?’ He always came to her. He never called her. She was unworthy; it was not what she was branded for. She did not kill; she did not forward the cause like the others. She had only one duty, and he always came to her for that.

            She nodded resolutely and answered the call. She was before him in an instant. She bowed low, “Yes, Master?”

            “Rise.” She complied. “I have a job for you. You must go to Hogwarts. To Dumbledore, and be my spy. You will offer your services as a teacher and you will make yourself a confidant.”

            “Master? I do not understand. How will I…”

            “You will still fulfill that task, child, but this is more important. I need someone there and you are the least possible suspect. You will go and you will give me the information I need. It is time you became more useful to me.”

            “Yes, Master. If it is what you desire, it shall be done.”

            “Go now and do not disappoint me, child. It is never wise to disappoint me.”

            “Yes, Master.”

            She disapparated and returned to her chambers. She packed her meager belongings into her weather-beaten trunk and sent word to Dumbledore.

            The old man was pleased at her request and offered her a position immediately.

            She took her trunk and made her way to Hogwarts.

 

            She was so cold, so empty. Her very presence made many shiver and wish to run. She was a capable teacher and she disturbed no one, so none could complain of her presence at the school. Many of the other teachers desperately wished that someone could find something to rid them of her, but she was so unobtrusive and adept at her work that none could find reason for complaint. No reason at all, other than her coldness, her hollow nothingness. She was, simply put, void of emotion, and that was reason enough to fear her.

            Severus Snape, however, found her fascinating. She had a quality he recognized. A quality that made him suspicious from his previous experience with others like her. He was not afraid of her; he was afraid of who might have sent her. Her arrival was surely no coincidence, and Snape immediately mistrusted her. He feared that his ex-master had sent her to spy, though he had no proof.

            Damn that old man for being so easy to trust! he thought, Shut it, you fool! You wouldn’t be here either if not for his trust!

            He watched her like a hawk, and in doing so, neglected to torment his students as harshly as they were accustomed to.

            Harry Potter noticed this immediately. And The Boy Who Lived became instantly suspicious. Snape always made a point of finding things to punish him for and this new, more lenient Snape made him nervous. When he discussed it with his friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, they agreed. But what could be causing Snape’s new attitude?

            “Surely he hasn’t actually started liking you, Harry?” Ron joked.

            “Maybe someone’s cast a spell over him, or maybe he’s been given a “niceness” potion or something,” Harry shrugged, puzzled by the whole affair.

            “I don’t think even the most powerful spells or potions could make Snape nice,” Ron said, with a disgusted look.

            “Well, he hasn’t exactly been nice, really. He’s just not been watching our every move,” Hermione pointed out.

            “And he hasn’t taken nearly as many points as he usually has by now.”

            “Maybe we should stop questioning it, and just enjoy the easier treatment for however long it may last.”

            “Yeah, you’re right, of course.”

            “What do you make of the new professor? She gives me the creeps.”

            “Well, she’s kind of odd, though I can’t put my finger on why. She just doesn’t seem natural, you know?”

            “I don’t like her. She sort of reminds me of Snape, only colder and more attractive-looking.”

            “Now that’s a scary image! A better-looking, emotionless, female Snape! UGH!”

            “Well, at least she doesn’t favor the Slytherins. That’s a good thing, right?”

            “True. I suppose. Did you see the way she glared at Malfoy when he made that crack? I thought for a moment she might’ve done what Moody did to him last year!”

            “Now that I wouldn’t mind seeing again!” Ron laughed.

            “But she didn’t. She didn’t even take points or give him detention, or anything. She just glared at him and then forgot about it,” Harry said.

            “Teachers,” shrugged Ron, “Go figure. Who knows why they do anything?”

 

            At that very moment, Snape was wondering the same thing. He had been watching the new teacher, and had discovered little. She was so silent, so perfect. She never gave him any hint of treachery or malice. She even seemed to almost want to teach. It was odd. She was odd. He could find no reason to mistrust her. That gave him reason enough to be very suspicious.

The only real knowledge he’d come up with, was scaring him on a much more personal level. She stirred sensations in him that he had not felt for a very long time. He felt parts of him rebelling whenever she was near, and he had always been proud of his ability to control himself. When she was around, he found himself scrambling and fighting to stop from reaching out and touching her hair, or placing a hand on her back, or running a finger down her cheek. She was so beautiful, so appealing and a part of him didn’t want to resist her. He knew from her coldness that even should he give in to his desires, he would illicit no response from her, and that too intrigued him. She was colder than even he was.

Still, he was sure he knew who had sent her, though he could find no proof. He had to know more, so he watched, observing and learning and knowing in that way that only he could. That quality he had to make you believe he had just read your mind, he used it to read her, but that failed, for she was unreadable. She had no emotion. He wondered if it could be the Imperius Curse. And a small voice inside wished it was, and that he could save her… So that maybe… oh, how foolish! How utterly ridiculous! She’s only a woman! Merlin’s Beard, Severus! Get hold of yourself! You don’t need a woman! Women are trouble, and love is folly!

 

Dumbledore, that great, wise, old wizard, saw and heard and knew more than any of them realized. He knew exactly who had sent her, he knew what she was doing to the Potions Master, and he knew what the affects were on his students, especially Harry and his friends. He knew more than any of them could have ever guessed, and he planned on keeping them all in the dark a bit longer yet.

Though, he was going to have to start speaking with the new teacher and begin to do what he had intended to the moment he had received her owl. She was vital to the cause of The Order, as well as the cause of the Dark Lord. Whoever had her at the final moment was likely to win. And he had no intention of losing.

She was sitting at her desk in her office, swiftly and perfunctorily grading parchments. She hardly read them, but still each paper was marked accurately. The door swung open and standing in its frame was the headmaster: her superior, her enemy.

“Good day, Oriole. Might I have a word?”

“Of course, Headmaster.”

“How do you like Hogwarts? Do you feel safe here?”

“Of course, Professor. I have always loved Hogwarts.” Her answer was stiff and formal.

“Truthfully? My dear, if you do not feel safe here than why did you come?”

“I do feel safe here, Professor.”

“Still, I wonder why you wished to come.”

“I came because I needed work, sir.”

She was not going to reveal anything, but he knew. He could hear her silent screams, buried so deep within, that even she was unaware of them. He wanted to help her. She would not be the first.

But he must discover the best way to go about this… and she was not helping. She was being cold and empty, but he knew what lurked beneath. She had buried herself so deeply that many powerful wizards would think her under the Imperius Curse, but he knew she still had free will. What he didn’t understand was why she denied it so fiercely. She followed her master’s commands without question, though her body and soul rebelled with every step.

He realized that he would not be the one to reach her. There was only one wizard living who could do that. It was written out suddenly before him, as though by an invisible hand. He understood that the only one who could save her, she in turn would save as well. He alone recognized this, and he alone realized that it would take a very long time. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

“I hope that if you have anything, Oriole, that you need to discuss. Anything at all, you will come to me. I will be waiting.” He left quickly.

She had felt the meaning that had lurked beneath his words, but she did not grasp it; did not want to grasp it. The old man knew everything, apparently, but he was not going to stop her.

It dawned on her that he knew who her master was, and that he knew what she had been sent for. That old man knew more, in all probability, than she did. Damn Dumbledore for knowing, damn him for seeing into me, into where even I refuse to look.

In truth, she wanted to damn her master, but she didn’t dare. She feared him. It was an irrational and stupid fear, but it was powerful and strong and she did not wish to fight it. She refused to acknowledge her own will because she did not want it. Her “free will” had destroyed the only people she had ever cared to love. Her naiveté and stupidity had killed them and led her into the arms of the foulest dark wizard of the age.

I will not think of that! The past is done and I cannot change it. The present is what I have, even if I wish only for the future’s release of Death.

She banished all thoughts from her mind and returned to marking her students scrolls. She worked swiftly and deep into the night. She did not dare to sleep, for fear of her master, for fear of the phantoms that haunted her.

When the work was done, she felt restless. A night walk was what she needed. He would not be calling her this night, she knew. He had given her this night of freedom for he had better things to do. She pulled on her heavy cloak and slipped her wand into her pocket. With a wave of her hand, the room went dark and she moved soundlessly through the door and into the hall.

She made her way carefully through the many corridors, at last arriving at the door she wanted. She pushed it open and let the waiting night envelope her. She walked through and then past the Quidditch field and headed straight for the secluded area she sought; the one place of solitude and safety she had ever known.

She threw her cloak onto the ground and let the wind beat around her as she stood in her thin nightdress. She wished for rain, and down it came, soaking her, finding her few chinks and proving that she could still feel something, even if it was only rain soaking her to her very bones and freezing her to the core.

How appropriate… freezing rain is all I can feel, all the Dark Lord’s Queen should feel…

“You’re quite mad.” A voice so soft and silky and deadly that it shook her. That voice almost… almost reminded her of… an emotion so old, so deep in her memory… she almost grasped it…

“Mad? No. Only cold. And heartless. I am not the only one,” she paused and turned to face him, “Am I?”

He smiled, that aching, sardonic smile that only he could master, “No, you aren’t.” Gods, but I want her! Ooh… I can see… the cloak, Severus! Get the cloak around her! “But perhaps you should put your cloak back on. You shall catch your death.”

She laughed. A cold, high, heartless laugh that only the tormented could know, “Perhaps that is exactly why I’m here.”

He reached out then, unable to hold his hand back. “Oriole…”

She stood, her nightshirt sodden and clinging, and smiled that seductive smile she had used on so many before, “You want me.” It was not a question.

“Bloody hell! Of course I do! But then, I am his servant too. I bear the same mark, the same curse. I know, yes, Oriole, I know…”

There was a moment of fear in her eyes. “But how?”

“The mark does not lie,” it was enough of an answer. He paused, thinking, “He has cursed you worst of all.” Another statement of fact.

“Why should that matter? My fate was sealed a very long time ago, Severus. At least you knew.”

“I would have stopped it, you know. He shouldn’t have you. None of us should.” He looked hard at her for a moment, “Even now you are pure. Perfect. Not even our master could take that from you.”

“That is why I was chosen, you know. I must be pure. I cannot be a proper vessel if a simple sin can taint me.”

“Yes. But you should never have been forced into this.”

Again, that cold, heartless laugh, “Forced? I was never forced. I was a fool, but I was never forced or tricked. I knew, and I did not care.”

“Liar.”

“What?”

“You lie. You cared. You still do. You only wish you didn’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snarled. Her face was twisted and ugly, but still, it possessed a terrifying beauty he could not deny.

“Don’t I?” he was at her throat so quickly she had not seen him move, “We are the same. We aren’t supposed to care; we aren’t human anymore. But that’s the greatest joke of all. We’re more human, the two of us, than any other creature on this wretched orb. Lie to everyone else; lie to yourself; but do not lie to me. I am too weary for such tripe, especially from such a sorry, pathetic, self-absorbed creature as you.” He released her then, and turned and slumped against a tree.

“Pathetic, am I? Self-absorbed? You’re one to talk, Severus Snape! So caught up in your own petty grudges and grievances to care about the pain of others! You speak as though you have known me. We never met before I came here. My master would never have allowed it. You are the liar. You are the traitor.”

He slapped her. “You do not know what I am, you silly girl. You are not so special as you think. He does not care for you. He will use you and then destroy you. Traitor, am I? You are the traitor. You let your father die to save you and now you spit in his face. Your mother did the same for the Dark Lord, and look at what that got her.”

She rubbed her cheek, for his slap still stung, “How dare you! My mother died for me! My father wanted to kill me!”

It was his turn to laugh that tormented laugh, “Is that what he has told you? Your precious mother loved him too, you know. She loved him more than she ever loved you. She wanted to sacrifice you to him. Your father stopped her. He turned against his family to save his daughter and this is how you repay him? You do not deserve to carry his name.”

“Really? Why should I believe you?” She all but spat the “you”.

“Because I was there. I knew your parents, you stupid girl. We worshipped them just as so many worship Potter now. They were gods, as big as The-Boy-Who-Lived, and they fell. Because of you.”

He saw the tears streaming down her face, mixing with the rain. Gods! She is so beautiful… I… Ooh, Oriole… He reached out to touch her.

“Don’t touch me! I may be his plaything, his… to do with as he pleases, to offer to whom he pleases… and I may hate that, but he has not yet forced me to sink so low as you!” She scooped her cloak into her arms, turned, and ran from him in one deft movement.

He allowed a single angry tear to flee from him, but the rest he forced back inside.

 

“That was the strangest Potions class we’ve ever had!”

Harry and his friends were leaving the dungeons after a rather unsettling lesson with Professor Snape. He had not taken a single point from Gryffindor, and had actually lost patience for a moment with Malfoy when Draco had nearly set Snape’s robes on fire. The Gryffindors were stunned and didn’t know what to make of Snape’s behavior. He had seemed quite upset, which was very odd indeed. Snape was almost never upset.

Though they had seen a particularly nasty side of him in their third year when Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black, who had been falsely accused for the deaths of Harry’s parents, had shown up at the school. Snape and Sirius greatly disliked one another, to put it rather kindly, and it had been the only time Harry had seen Snape show emotion, albeit terrifying. The lesson Harry had just left had given him the same awful feeling in his stomach as he’d had that night.

“I wonder what’s got his panties in such a twist? I’ve never seen Snape so… preoccupied!”

“Hermione!” Harry and Ron looked at her in shock. They’d never heard such a phrase on her lips.

“What?”

Ron was giving her a particularly admiring look, “That was bloody brilliant!”

She raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say, ‘Ronald Weasley, have you lost your mind?’

Ron’s face turned beet-red and he mumbled something like, “Well, it was…”

“If Snape’s that upset about something, maybe we should be worried. What if Volde--” Harry looked at Ron, who had gasped, “You-Know-Who is, you know… calling him, or whatever?”

“Well, I suppose that could be it, but I think we should talk to Dumbledore. Did you see the look on his face when Seamus was talking to Paravati about Professor Mason? Something’s wrong.”

“You really think we should go to Dumbledore? He’s bound to be busy…”

“Yes, but we can hardly ask Snape about it, now can we? And if it concerns Professor Mason as well, surely Dumbledore will want to know!”

So, Harry, Hermione and Ron headed for Dumbledore’s office.

“All right, Hermione. We’re here. So now what? You don’t happen to know his latest password, do you?”

“Well no, but surely we can just knock…”

But before they did, the door swung open, “Why, hello! What are you three doing here?” Dumbledore smiled down at them.

Hermione spoke up, “Professor, we’re worried about… well, about Professor Snape. He wasn’t… himself in class today, and well… we thought…”

Dumbledore gave them a wise smile, “Yes, I know. He’s not well, I’m afraid. I was just going to see him now. He should be back to his, admittedly, rather grumpy self soon.”

“Oh, well, thank you, sir…”

“No trouble at all. Now, off to dinner with you!”

The three of them left their headmaster and headed for the Great Hall. Dumbledore sighed as he watched them stride away. Things were not going at all the way he had hoped. And now Severus was sitting on a razor’s edge. And worse, the students were noticing.

He made his way to Severus’s office, spoke the password, and opened the door.

Severus looked up at him, with panic in his eyes.

“Severus? What is it, my boy?”

“Headmaster! I… I’m sorry, I…”

“Severus, the students have been noticing. What on earth is the matter?”

“Sir… I… well, she…”

“Ah, you’ve tried to talk sense into her, then. Didn’t work, I’m afraid. It will take more than words to heal her. You of all people should know that.”

“No… it’s not that, Headmaster…”

“Oh, dear. Its worse than I thought,” a smile played on his lips, “How the mighty have fallen, eh, Severus? To think that all it takes to knock off all you’re hard work is one beautiful woman. I’m surprised at you, Severus.”

Between gritted teeth, Snape shook his head and said, “No! That’s not it! Voldemort! He… he wants me to… I can’t do that to her…”

A look of shock appeared on Dumbledore’s face, “You can’t mean that, Severus! Why?”

“How the bloody hell should I know? All I know is what he wants me to do. Damn him. Damn this mark,” Severus gripped his left forearm to his chest, “Damn me for…”

“Now, Severus, you have paid for those sins. You are not evil and you have proven your loyalty.” There was a sound of warning in the old wizard’s voice. I’m not discussing this again, Severus.

“What exactly do I do, Headmaster? Do I follow his orders, or do I defy him and bring his wrath upon Hogwarts now?”

Dumbledore sank into thought. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to win her over, Severus. She can’t report back to him until she’s on our side.”

The look of terror in the Potions master’s eyes was unmistakable, and rather out of place. Of course, the one thing the man feared was human contact, human love.

“How the hell am I supposed to do that, sir?”

“You’ll come up with something. In the meantime, I suggest you remember yourself in your classes. The students are getting suspicious.”

“Potter.”

“Yes, for once you’re right there. They were worried about you, Severus. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’ve grown rather fond of your cruelty.”

“Those three? I doubt they were worried about me. They probably think I’m after their new favorite teacher.” His voice was full of hard bitterness.

“They aren’t much fond of her either, matter of fact. She reminds them too much of you.”

“Me? She reminds them of… Me?”

“Yes. Strange. I suppose they can be more perceptive than Sybil thinks.”

“Me? I’m nothing like her… She’s…”

“Oh, Severus, really! You’ve more in common with her than you wish to admit I know, but you must at least realize she’s just as cold as you are. She’s been through quite a bit, as you know. She needs something, someone quite powerful to help her heal.”

Snape looked at his superior, his friend, with such a look of shock and terror that even Dumbledore was caught off his guard. “But… how? I’m nothing to her. She hates me more than she hates him. How am I supposed to…?”

“Oh, Severus. You know damn well what it is you need to do. All that’s left for you is to do it. And soon, Severus. If he gets to her before you do, she’ll be lost forever. And you know what that will mean.”

Snape hung his head and hid his face behind his sleek, dark hair, “Yes, Headmaster.”

“Good. I’ve got to go, but I want you to tell me when you’ve succeeded.” And he with that, he was gone.

Damn him! I can’t do this! I can’t! He wanted to slap himself, Damn it, Severus! You can and you will. This isn’t about you. You’ve got a job to do it, now do it.

He rose from his desk and went into his private chambers. As he was gathering the things he needed, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging in his open wardrobe door. A tall, slender man with pale skin, dark eyes, a prominent nose, and silky-smooth, dark hair stared back at him. He had never thought of himself as attractive, but he was going to need to be now. Damn her too. He went into his bathroom and turned the facet. He splashed some water on his face and ran his wet fingers through his hair. He gripped the sink so hard his knuckles went even whiter and stared at his reflection. Who the hell do you think you are? She can’t possibly want you. Hell, she outright told you that she hates you. Another voice answered, But why the hell do I want her? Is it just Voldemort’s command, or is it… something else? He shook his head and wiped his hands dry on the plush green towel.

He collected his things and went to find her. He knew where she’d be.

 

Oriole Mason was standing in the clearing that she loved, caught between walking closer to the cliff or backing away and giving in to her master’s command. No! I won’t do that! Not for him! If I were going to do that, it’d be… She stopped. She felt something awaken in her long dead heart. Could it be that she’d been hit? Could she actually feel this? Did she really want something she had long forgotten? Could love have found her at last, after all these years of hiding?

Her thoughts were disturbed when a voice spoke. Damn it! How does he do that?!

“What do you want, Severus?” She spoke without turning to face him.

“I don’t know. But we both know what he wants, don’t we?”

She closed her eyes, but still refused to look at him, “I suppose we do. What of it? Come to claim your revenge?”

“No. I won’t touch you. But I can’t let you run to him and tell him that, now can I? I must keep my secret safe.”

“So you want to kill me then?”

He sighed a deep, long sigh. “No. I can’t do that. Not to you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Are you going to tell him?”

She thought a moment. “I do not lie to him. I cannot lie.”

His hand was at her throat, “I warned you to never lie to me again! Stop this! Where are your loyalties?”

“I have no loyalties, do I, Severus? I have no heart and no soul. How can I have loyalties? My only wish is for oblivion.”

“Do you love him? Don’t lie.”

“I… No. I hate him. But hate is just as strong a bond, Severus.”

“No, its not. Love is stronger. Much stronger.”

She felt his grip relax. She saw the desire in his eyes. It ignited something in her, and this time she did not force it away.

“Really, Severus? Is it? How do you know that?”

“Love is why I’m here and you know it, you foolish girl. I know you laugh at me, you cringe at the thought, but it doesn’t matter. Love is insanity in its purest form. Don’t bother to torment me. All I want from you is your word that you will not give me away to him.” He released her entirely and turned to look out over the ledge.

“You have it, Severus.” She almost reached out to him then, thinking, that and more, you old fool.

She stepped up beside him and followed his gaze, “I will not betray you.”

“Thank you.” He turned and walked away without a single glance in her direction. He couldn’t bear to look at her, his desire was too strong and his heart beat at him and defeated him. He was broken, and all because of this foolish, simple girl.

She watched him go, amazed at the emotion stirring inside of her. She felt as though she was being torn in every direction. She had no idea which way to go. She felt as though, if she didn’t choose, she would be split apart and all the matter inside her would spread out among the stars above. But before she realized which way she wanted to choose, he was gone.

 

“Mr. Potter, that will be twenty points from Gryffindor. I will not have such stupidity in this classroom,” said Professor Mason coldly.

Her voice is more frightening than Snape’s! Harry thought, How am I ever going to survive two professors hating me?

“Yes, Professor.”

“Now, apologize to Mr. Finnigan.”

“Sorry, Seamus. I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s all right Harry. No harm done, really.”

“Now, back to your work. Everyone.”

Snape was right about one thing. These children were incorrigible! They had no grasp of what it meant to study or respect. Except that Granger girl, he was wrong about her, at least. Quite a clever girl, really, if a bit overbearing. She reminds me of myself, although, she’s got that Gryffindor arrogance, but then, no one’s perfect.

Then her thoughts returned to Snape. He had gotten to her, and it was terrifying. How was she going to keep his secret from the Dark Lord? Voldemort always saw straight through her, and he always punished her for lying. But something was different this time. She wasn’t the only one in danger and for some inexplicable reason, she didn’t want to let Snape down. She didn’t understand the effect the man was having on her. Her master enforced part of it upon her, she knew, but there was… something else, something not even Voldemort could have foreseen. She wanted to please the bastard, though she couldn’t say why. His opinion of her meant something, in spite of her constant denial.

And the worst of it was that Dumbledore knew. The senile old nutter knew. He knew, but he didn’t say he did, he just smirked at her and at Severus. She wanted so badly to slap him for it, but she realized it wasn’t wise to slap the man who was offering you protection and a cozy job. Never bite the hand that feeds you, right?

Of course, that’s exactly what she was doing. Voldemort had been her master for several years now and here she was, about to turn against him for some crazy old man and a sour old grizzly bear.

A sour old cantankerous grizzly bear… with deep black pools for eyes that you hopelessly want to fall into, and a scathing tongue that you look forward to arousing at every turn, and a nose that is as interesting as it is large, and hair that sweeps along his shoulders in a rather appealing way. And that damn cloak of his, always flowing around him like some sort of personal, traveling cave… how I long for access into that cave…

Shut it, you ninny-headed git! That’s about as bloody likely as Voldemort saying ‘Sorry, my mistake, you’re not what I really had in mind. You can go now.’ Yeah, sure, that’s going to happen… And then Severus will just fall into your arms and the whole world is going to turn into some sort of giant love-fest. Riiiiight. Gods, but I’m a fool: a simpering, sickening, romantic fool. Ugh, damn you, Severus! Look what you’ve done to me, you cantankerous old man! 

Severus was lost in his own reverie as his fourth year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff class worked diligently, if not altogether brilliantly (excepting the Ravenclaws, of course, whom even Severus admitted had enough brains to cope with his demands efficiently, even if they were as arrogant about it as the Gryffindors) on their latest round of Antidotes.

That woman! Even now, I can’t escape her. Merlin’s Beard, she seeps into everything! Can I have no peace? What if she lied again? What if she has already told him? Gods, but how will she pretend that we… Hell, it’s been so long since… I’ve forgotten what it might have been like…Why am I doing this? Why am I tormenting myself with such thoughts? Like there’d ever be a chance of that happening! She may have promised my secret, but she still hates me. If I know anything, it’s that. Gods, but I am damned.

 

“Albus, are you sure that she can be trusted?”

“Of course, Minerva! You remember her years here, I’m sure.”

“Well, yes, but if she really is a spy, wouldn’t it be best if we sent her back, or away, or something!?”

“Perhaps, but we need her as much as Voldemort does. As much as they both dislike it, they are the key. Merlin’s beard! Even I don’t understand it, but it must be. They, and the resulting child, are the key to all of this. Neither of them deserves this, but there’s no other option.”

“I certainly agree with that. But why must it be these two? Surely anyone would do?”

“Minerva, you know quite well things are never so simple as that. No, it is something about the mixing of two such ancient lines of powerful witches and wizards. Their families have long been allied, though they know nothing of it. The fates of the Masons and the Sanpes have long been intertwined. It is only surprising that their union will be the first in their long heritage.”

“How is it, Albus, that you always seem to know everything?”

“Ah, Minerva. Surely you know all my secrets by now, after our many years together,” he said, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

She blushed, “Not all of them, Albus. You keep secrets quite well.”

“That I do, that I do.” He was smiling mischievously.

“What role does Harry have to play in all of this, Albus? Or is his involvement finished?”

“I should hardly believe that. No, he has quite a duty to fulfill himself, but he will not defeat Voldemort alone. This time Lily will not be able to save him. Merlin, but I wish she were. James too. I wish they could both be here to help him. He will need them so much in the coming months.”

“Do we stand a chance, as things stand now, do you think?”

“Yes and no. If we have Oriole on our side, even without the child, we may stand a chance. The only absolute guarantee is to have them safely hidden here at Hogwarts. He wants this child so desperately, Minerva. Which makes its birth the most worrisome event in the whole affair. If only we could find out why the child is so necessary to him…”

“Perhaps we can. Perhaps Oriole knows, perhaps she would be willing to tell us…”

“Oh, she would undoubtedly run to us if she knew. No, he has kept his intentions secret from her. Not even her hard, icy heart could take what he has planned for her child, and for her.”

“Then you already--”

“No, I don’t know for certain, but I have my suspicions. And those are enough. No, she does not know. She is merely a pawn for him. She is worthless to him. He greatly underestimates her.”

“A mistake, no doubt.”

“Quite right, Minerva. You’ve seen the magic she wields. It is of an ancient sort, all but forgotten now, but in the days when these stones were first being laid, it was widely respected.”

“So you believe she has…”

“Yes. More than even she knows she possesses. She believes her magic is weak because her wand inhibits her instead of aiding her.”

“Yes. She believes herself little more than a squib, poor child.”

“Poor? Hardly. She knows. Part of her feels her power, but it frightens her because admitting she possesses it is something like admitting you are Muggle-born in the Slytherin common room.”

Minerva snorted, “She’s hardly Muggle-born. Her lineage is ridiculously ancient.”

“Yes. That is exactly why she possesses this rare gift. She is one of the few witches whom can trace their line to those days when her kind of magic was the norm and not the oddity. There are Muggles out there who have some of that magic, though in much smaller amounts. They are quite often shunned from every society. Even ours.”

“If a wand inhibits her magic, what could aid it?”

“Of that, I am not sure. Many artifacts were used in those days. Perhaps a staff or a familiar would be a better aid. You have seen her easiness with her owl?”

“Oh, yes. She seems unusually found of it.”

“Perhaps the deep magic in her sees it as a kind of familiar. Or perhaps she is just fond of the creature; it’s not that unusual to form an attachment to an owl one has had for many years. It could take years to find the appropriate conductor of her power.”

“Years we do not have.”

“Then we shall have to work quickly. Or she will have to stop denying her power and just use her hands. Her kind doesn’t really need a wand or a staff; it just makes her less conspicuous and more comfortable. It is purely a psychological attachment for one like her.”

 

“Oh, Bre, what am I going to do?” Oriole was sitting at her dressing table in her bedroom, head in her hands. Her owl, Breandan, was perched atop her mirror, looking down at her master with her head cocked, as though in sympathy.

“I don’t want to go to him. He’ll kill me; I know it. He’ll know I did not obey his order and he told me that I should not disappoint him. I can’t bear the Cruciatus Curse again, Bre. I just can’t! Lucius has used it on me so many times… one more, especially from Voldemort’s wand, would surely kill me. What am I going to do? I can’t go to him! Oh, Severus… why? Why won’t you love me?” She snorted, “I know damn well why. I don’t deserve it anyway. Gods, but I’m a mess! I hate this… these emotions really muck things up, Bre. You’re so lucky. I wish I could be an owl and just forget all of this. Just fly away with you and nest and hunt and just… live.”

She stroked the bird’s feathers absently as she stared out the small window of her cell. She lost herself in the image of flying through the night sky, riding the wind on her wings, and watching the world so far below… so detached.

There was a knock at her chamber door.

She looked up, shaken from her daydream. “Who could that be? And how did they get the password for my office?” She paused as a thought sprang on her, “How does it go? ‘And a knocking at my chamber door… quoth the raven “Nevermore! Nevermore!”” Ah, Mr. Poe, no one ever put it so eloquently as you.”

She stood and flung the door open, prepared to be quite angry at whoever had dared to disturb her few moments of blessed peace. But the anger flooded away in a moment, replaced by true concern, “Severus! What…? Why? Oh, Merlin! You’re bleeding!” She pulled him in and helped him lie across her bed. She immediately went over him, looking for the wounds, desperately placing her hands on him, forgetting all pretenses and letting the energy flow out of her and into him.

He was nearly unconscious once she had gotten him onto the bed. When she rose up off of it after several moments of frantic healing, he was quite awake. Stiff and sore, but very conscious, and very aware of what she had just done, “You… You’re a… a…”

“Yes, Severus, I am. Something I bet you’d never guess from a Mason, I suppose. My father was quite proud of his respectable lineage. He was a true Slytherin after all. My mother, however, was something all together different. And she passed it on to me. But never mind all that, what the hell happened and why did you show up at my door bleeding to death and nearly unconscious?”

He nodded, filing this new discovery for another time, “I went to see him. He decided that he didn’t need me anymore. I still don’t know how I lived…”

“You idiot! What the bloody hell did you go and do that for? You know damn well he wants you dead, you greasy git!”

He flinched at her last insult, as she undoubtedly knew he would, but ignored it and answered, “I decided that I wasn’t going to let a woman do my dirty work for me.”

“Severus Snape! Merlin’s Beard! You… idiot… Oh, Severus,” her face was set in hard lines of anger until she met his eyes. Then her heart was wrenched open, despite her best defenses. “Going and getting yourself killed over me? You’re mad. Madder than I ever thought you could be!” She stopped and looked down at him, and smiled, “Quite selfish of you too. Leaving me here to defend myself all alone. Damn you.”

He reached up then, a grin spreading over his lips, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, you silly girl… Voldemort’s got nothing on you; you know that? You could drive a million men to their deaths just by smiling, or snarling. Both methods seem quite effective.”

He flinched as she put her hand at his waist.

“What?” she moved her hand quickly.

“Nothing… you just… found a sensitive spot there… ooh…” he moaned as he felt that power flow through her hand and into his side. Suddenly the pain was gone.

“How’s that?” she asked, a smile playing lightly across her lips as she laid her hand gently on the same spot.

“Much better,” he grinned. “Oriole, I…” his voice grew deeper then.

“Yes, Severus?” she leaned down, her smile still playing hide-and-seek on her face, and kissed his lips.

He put his hand behind her head and pulled her closer. Her lips were so soft and smooth. He was rough, his desire getting ahead of him, forcing his way in, reaching into her mouth with his tongue, seeking her out, drawing her out. Gods, how long he had wanted this!

She was quite agreeable. She gently held him, cradled his wounded body in her arms, eagerly responding to him, ready for more.

“Severus, I really think we need to talk,” she pushed him down onto her bed and pulled herself away from it.

He gasped as though someone had just turned off the oxygen, “Talk? You want to talk? Hell, woman! Why not just kill me now!”

“Because I’ve got better plans for you, but if you think I’m going to just give into you here and now, you are quite mistaken. For one thing, you’re so banged up and broken at the moment, you’re hardly of any use to me, and for another, we simply can’t.”

“Why the hell not?” He was angry, but she was right about one thing. He would not make a very impressive lover in his current condition.

“Because, if we do, we’ll be giving that bastard exactly what he wants. If we’re the good guys now, we absolutely, positively cannot do that.”

He laughed, “Oh, Oriole. No wonder you’ve ripped my heart from me. Stiff-necked, sodding she-wolf!”

“I am not a she-wolf, Severus. Stiff-necked? Perhaps, but I am no werewolf. You’re one to talk, anyhow. How dare you ruin my perfect, emotion free world, you sodding old codger of a wizard! I’ve a mind to--”

“To what, exactly? I dare you, wench.”

“Wench, am I? Then you must be a--”

“Don’t you dare! I will not be called that!” His anger was intense.

She backed down, but he noticed that she moved closer to the bed and took his hand. Smiling, she said, “All right, enough with the insults. What are we going to do now? Our cover is completely blown, thanks to your blazingly heroic, Gryffindor antics.”

He sneered at her, “Thanks to your bullheaded and arrogant conduct, we’ve been forced between a rock and a hard place. I suppose we’re just going to have to see Dumbledore.”

“For the very first time, Severus. I agree with you. He’s the only person who’ll ever be able to sort out your mess.”

He glared at her for a moment, but it sent a shock of pain through him.

“But first we’ll have to get you to Madam Pomfrey. I can only do so much to help you out of this mess.”

She helped him off the bed and she pulled herself beneath his right arm to support him for the long walk from her chambers to the hospital wing.

Just the feel of her body touching his was enough to set him on edge. He wanted to ravage her at once, but he hadn’t the strength for it. It was pure torture to feel her so close and be unable to act on his desires. This was going to be a very long war indeed.

“Poppy? I’m so sorry to disturb you at this hour, but… well…” her voiced trailed off as she let the nurse draw her own conclusions from the scene before her.

“Bring him in. Lay him there.” Madam Pomfrey bustled about, and went quickly to work. “My, but you’ve done quite a good job with him already, Oriole.  I’d no idea you had training in the Healing Arts.”

“I—I don’t, really…”

“Well, then you’ve a natural talent for it young lady.”

“Er… Thank you, Poppy. Will he be all right?”

“Well, he’ll live. But the man’s never been all right.”

“That’s all I wanted to know.”

Oriole watched from a safe distance as Madam Pomfrey set about healing her newfound lover and fretted over not being at his side. She felt like such a ninny to be so worried, but that damn maternal instinct kept creeping into her thoughts and forcing her to be irrational.

When the nurse finished, Severus asked her if Oriole could come and talk to him. When Poppy refused, he nearly burst an artery yelling at her. Madam Pomfrey gave in, grudgingly, when he swore it would only be for a few moments.

Oriole was at his side in a flash. She took his hand and smiled at him, “Well, she says you’re going to live. Suppose I’m stuck with you.”

“Damn right you are! I just risked life and limb for you, wench. Its time you gave me something in return.”

“And just what do you expect, with Poppy hovering over there, looking murderous?”

“Get Dumbledore and bring him here now. This can’t wait.” The look in his eyes told her not to waste time bickering or teasing.

She nodded, kissed his forehead quickly, and was gone.

“Headmaster, Severus has been to… I think he has news and he seems to think it’s worth staying awake for, despite Poppy’s protests that he should sleep.”

Dumbledore merely nodded. And then he turned purposefully towards the hospital wing. He brushed Poppy’s demands aside and headed straight for Severus’s bedside.

“Well, Severus? What is it?”

“Professor, I’d… rather we discussed this alone,” he gave a pointed look to Oriole, “For a moment…”

“Of course. Oriole? Do wait over there for now.”

She glared at Severus, but did as she was told.

 

“Dumbledore… he… he wants her to have a child… my child….”

“Yes, I thought as much.”

“That’s not the worst of it. He wants the child to serve as a sort of… vessel. He’s found a way to stay immortal. The baby would… Headmaster, I…”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, “I feared this would be so. The child, then, cannot be born.” The look of anguish in the younger man’s eyes was almost too much for him, “I know Severus. And I’m sorry. For both of you. I had hoped… But if this is the truth, then…” He did not need to finish.

“Never?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Merlin’s Ghost, Albus! I can’t live like that! Not now! I won’t lose her.”

“My boy, I never said you had to. You merely cannot produce children.”

“And how exactly are we going to do that?”

“There are several ways, as a matter of fact. Some of the techniques the Muggles have created are quite ingenious and would most assuredly suit your needs.”

“Muggles? You mean we’d have to live among them? Out in the open? Away from the Wizarding World?”

“Merlin, no! You’d only have to find a Muggle doctor who could help you decide on the best choice. There are ways to do it with magic of course, but the Muggles have more… permanent… solutions that we, here in the wizarding world, have not yet implemented. Until such time as you can find one of these Muggle doctors, you have plenty of more temporary options available to you both.”

“What am I going to tell her?”

“The truth, Severus. She deserves nothing less than that.”

“And what about me? Don’t I deserve the truth too? She’s a…”

“A mage? Yes, Severus, she is. Why should that matter?”

“She wants me to be honest, but she hides that from me? How am I supposed to trust her if she can’t even tell me that?”

“Perhaps she does not know…”

“No, she knows. She admitted that much.”

“You still love her?”

“Bloody hell! Of course I do! How can I not? She’s the only person I’ve ever met who could match me.”

“Then that’s how you can trust her. She did not lie to you. You assumed she was a witch.”

“She didn’t act to the contrary, waving her wand around, flaunting her skill with the bloody thing…”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, “And that did not tip you off, as carefully as you watched her? She works quite hard at keeping it hidden, from everyone.”

“A sodding, bloody mage! What am I going to do?”

“Love her.”

“Well yes, of course. You’re really ruining this for me, sir.”

“My boy, you can’t wallow in grief now. There is work to be done!”

“Yes, Headmaster.”

Dumbledore turned and waved Oriole over, “Oriole! Severus has something he needs to tell you. And I believe you have something you need to share with him as well,” there was a twinkle in the old wizard’s eyes.

They both started at once.

“Severus, I…”

“Oriole, I… No, youth before wisdom,” he sneered.

“Why, you sodding…! Oh, all right, Headmaster. He’s hurt; I’ll humor him. Severus, I… well, I’m a mage. Now, is that going to be a problem? Do I need to give you a good beating with your wand?” As she was speaking, her hands absently moved along his body, seeking injury and drawing the pain away from him and into herself. No one but Dumbledore noticed.

“No. I just wanted to hear you say it, you bloody wench.”

“Good. Now what is it you have to tell me?”

He glanced at Dumbledore, and the old man nodded to him, “Well, wench, when I… well, he revealed some of his plans…”

“And?”

“Well… we can’t produce children.”

“You don’t mean that we can’t… bloody hell, Severus! I did not just go to all this trouble to save your life so that you couldn’t ravage me, you know! Damn you!”

“I didn’t say that. As soon as I can get out of this bloody bed, that’s exactly what I intend to do. What I mean is we can never have a child.”

“Why the hell would I want another one of those? There’s about a million of the wretched little creatures wandering all about this place!” She gave him a sly little grin, “And I can’t deal with having two of my own to handle. You’re quite the handful on your own, you overgrown--”

“Enough. Honestly, child. This is not a fair fight. He’s not in top form, I must remind you.”

“Yes, sir. I only meant that we’ve got plenty of children to raise here already. I only want him, even if he is a grump.” She smiled gently at her lover, “Oh, Sev… How on earth could you think that would matter? A child? That’s nothing, so long as I have you.”

“Well, good. As I said, as soon as I can escape from Poppy, I’m coming to ravage you.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting.”

Professor Dumbledore took the goblet of pumpkin juice that Poppy had left, and handed it, along with a phial of Sleeping Potion, to Oriole. She mixed the drink so quickly, Severus didn’t see it, but he knew the drink would force him to sleep.

She lifted him off the bed and tilted the juice into his mouth. He drank obediently. He knew the potion would give him dreamless sleep; true rest, a few hours of silence and peace. Besides Oriole, he wanted that most in the entire world.

Se took the goblet when he was finished and set it aside. She gently laid his weakened body back on the bed and gave him a chaste kiss goodnight.

He smiled at her for a moment as he drifted off to sleep.

“Goodnight, Sev. Rest well. You’re going to need it… for more reasons than one.”

Dumbledore led her out of the hospital wing. She was about to say how tired she was and that she wanted to go to bed, but he spoke first.

“We need to talk, young lady. Come to my office.”

“Yes, Headmaster.” She suddenly felt like a first year student who’d committed a horrible, blatant bout of rule breaking.

When they reached his office, he led the way in and took his seat behind the desk, “Sit down and rest for a moment. This has been a rather long day.”

“Thank you, sir.” She slumped into the nearest seat and leaned her head back.

After a few moments, he spoke, “Oriole, do you know what it means to be a mage? Everything it entails?”

“Well, yes and no, sir. I have tried to study it, but it has been hard. The Dark Lord has not given me much freedom. I did not wish to reveal the truth to him. It was my mother’s last request to me.”

“Ah, I see. So she told you then.”

“Yes. I was very small. She took me aside one day and told me that she was a mage and that made me one too. She told me that I must learn mage craft, but I must do it in secret. Not even the Master was to know.”

“I see. You kept this promise?”

“Yes. She was my mother and it seemed terribly important to her. And the Dark Lord… well, as I grew older, I learned of his prejudices first hand… I didn’t think mages would be much higher than mudbloods on his list.”

“You are sure he does not know?”

“Yes. He would have killed me if he discovered it. He doesn’t like it when his followers keep secrets from him.”

“Good. Good. You will have to work very hard, and very quickly. I’m afraid there isn’t much time. The final battle is coming. And your magic will be needed. You will have to be very strong. I’m afraid you’ll have to give up the wand.”

“I know, sir. But I’d like to keep it until I have a staff ready.”

“Of course. You will have to get started soon.”

“First thing in the morning, sir.”

“Wonderful!”

“There are a few things I have not learned, Headmaster, and it worries me. I need a master-mage to train me.”

“True, very true. I think perhaps I know someone. I’m just not sure if that someone will help or not. Mages can be rather temperamental and they don’t often like to work in the wizarding world.”

“Do try, sir. It is incredibly important to me that I learn properly.”

“I know, girl, I know. I shall do my best.”

“That will be enough. You’re quite the master of persuasion, Professor,” a smirk appeared on her lips.

“I am indeed.” His smile shone brightly back. “I think it best that you go to bed now and rest. After all, you still have classes to teach tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir. I quite agree. I need all the sleep I can get, at the moment.” She stood, preparing to leave.

“Just one more thing, Oriole.”

“Yes?”

“I suggest you don’t use up all your magic keeping the pain from him. It will only make you both weaker. We need you to be strong. Both of you.”

She cringed. He had noticed. Damn it! I hate it when he does that! He knows everything! Well, I can lie. I’m a good liar. I can lie to him about this one thing. “Yes, Professor.”

“I mean it, Oriole.”

How does he do that!?!

“I know you child. That is enough,” his eyes glittered with amusement.

“Please stop reading my thoughts, sir. I have no defense.”

“I hardly need to read them, young lady. Your face gives you away. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you would die if it could erase his pain.”

She looked down and hid her face behind her long, thick gold locks, “I would sir.”

“I don’t suggest trying. That would be the last straw for him.”

She nodded, still hiding behind her hair.

“Sleep now, Oriole. It shall do you a world of good.”

She nodded again and left his office.

When she arrived at her own quarters, she flung her robes off and headed straight for the bath. She soaked in the large, stone tub for a long while, letting tears and hate and anger boil the water until it was all washed away. The perks of being a mage, she smirked to herself, are quite bountiful.

When she had finished her mage-bath, she climbed out of the tub and walked naked into her bedchamber. She opened her wardrobe and looked at her nightdress. Then shook her head and pulled the sheets back. I never liked sleeping in that thing. Don’t know why I bother keeping it. She climbed into the bed and let the crisp, clean sheets wrap around her. The house-elf had remembered her request. The heated stones were there, making the bed nice and toasty, but still allowing a blessed breeze. Again, the perks of being a mage…

She settled in and quickly drifted off. Her dreams were full of only Severus’s face, and the love she possessed for him. It was quite the welcome change from the usual gloom-and-doom faire.

When she awoke a few hours later, she felt entirely refreshed. “Now, time for me to stop hiding. Forgive me, Mother.”

She knew what she must do, had studied this part so well, but still she was afraid. When she walked amongst the wizards and witches carrying her staff, she would be recognized. A mage, the most rare, most complicated magical people of all. Mages were all but dead to this world and often feared. All because of Mother and Grandmother. Those two women alone have caused more suffering and more pain with their power than many dark wizards combined. And that was why Voldemort used them. That is why he wants me now. We are tools, pawns, subordinates. He believes we have weak minds and weaker wills. My mother shocked him when she turned me over to my father. She knew what she had done, she tried to make it right, but she died anyway. A tear tried to escape, but she held fast. I will not cry. The past is finished. What’s done is done. It is time things were made right. I will not fail where my parents did. I am not my mother!

She set to work immediately on her staff, before laying it aside lovingly to attend to her classes.

Bloody hell. Gryffindors. Why did today have to be the Gryffindors? She watched as Harry Potter and his friends entered her classroom and anger flowed into her veins. That boy! He knows nothing of what he has done. He is so sure of himself, so aware of his safety, yet he does not give those who provide that safety any respect! I loath the way the children worship him, idolize him. What has the famous Harry Potter done? Nothing! His mother died to save him. She made the great sacrifice, but she lays at the wayside for the Great Harry Potter! Damn him! He has done nothing but break rules and harm the reputations and education of every other child in this castle since the first day he stepped off the train!

She shook herself from her thoughts quickly when she realized it was time for the class to begin. “Potter.”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Tell me what you learned from your reading assignment.”

“I… Well, um… I…” He glanced at his two friends, but there was nothing they could do for him now.

“I see. You did not complete your assignment, is that it?” her voice was cold and razor-edged.

“Well, Professor…” he looked up at her with those green eyes, “I’m sorry. No, I didn’t.”

“Twenty-five points from Gryffindor, Potter. Now tell me, Mr. Potter, did you complete the chart I requested last week?”

“N—No, Ma’am… I… n—n—no…”

“That will be a detention. Meet me here tonight at 7 sharp.”

“Y—yes, Professor.”

“Good. Now sit down.”

She turned away from the Gryffindors and turned her wrath on the Slytherins.

“Malfoy. Did you finish the assignment?”

“Yes, Professor,” his voice was silky and full of arrogance.

“Good. Now tell me, Mr. Malfoy, what did you learn from the assignment?”

As the boy droned into his brown-nosing monologue, Oriole disregarded him and let her eyes circle the classroom.

Pansy Parkinson was trying to send a note, without much success, to another Slytherin girl at the other end of the room. They were on the verge of causing a scene.

Dean Thomas, Ron Weasley, and Seamus Finnigan were obviously more interested in what was probably a Quidditch magazine than her lesson. That was going to cost them.

Crabbe and Goyle were staring dumbfounded at Malfoy, completely mystified by every word coming out of his mouth.

Neville Longbottom was trying desperately to compare his own notes to Malfoy’s answer, without any luck.

Then Pansy’s friend burst out, “Not now, Pansy! She’s watching!”

Oriole turned, “May I ask what all this fuss is about Ms. Parkinson?”

“I… I’m s—sorry, P—P—Professor,” the girl sputtered.

“Is that a note in my class, Parkinson?”

“Uh, y—yes.”

“Bring it here. Now.” The girl did as she was told, turning a shade of red Oriole was sure she’d never seen before.

She read the note quietly to herself. Then, “I am feeling generous, Parkinson. I shall give you a choice. Either you and your friend will serve detention with Harry tonight or I will read this note aloud right now.”

The girl shook with fear, “D—Detention! We’ll take the detention!” Her friend glared at her, but didn’t protest.

“Very well. 7 o’clock sharp, ladies.”

“Y—yes, Professor.” The girl returned quickly to her seat.

“Thomas. Weasley. Finnigan. I want to see the three of you after class. Put that thing away and pay attention.”

“Miss Granger, please explain the properties of…”

And the class finished without another mishap and she was glad when all of the students filed quietly out of her classroom. All of them, that is, except Thomas, Weasley, and Finnigan.

“Boys, come here.” She was seated behind her desk, hands folded before her.

They came silently, heads hung low.

“What is it the three of you find so interesting that you are willing to risk losing points from your house and the wrath of all your housemates?”

“Well, Professor. You see…”

“Its…”

“Well, its…”

She raised an eyebrow at their less than satisfactory explanations. “Give it here.”

A copy of Witch Weekly? What in the world? I sure wasn’t expecting this! She flipped through it until she found what had interested them so greatly. Oh no. This cannot be happening. Damn.

She thought about punishing the three boys, then thought better of it. “I’ll be keeping this. The next time you get the urge to read something like this, do keep it out of the classroom. Now go. I’ll let you off with a warning this time. If I catch any one of you,” she gave each of them a rather penetrating glare, “doing something like this again it will be fifty points. Each.” She gave them a very sharp look.

“Yes, Professor,” they said in unison, sounding properly shamed.

“Now go. Before I change my mind.”

They bolted so quickly from the room that she had to smile. There was some satisfaction in that, at least.

She was glad that it was lunchtime. She had time to visit Severus now. A seductive smile played on her lips. I do hope Poppy has done quick work with him. I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.

“Severus.”

“Hell. What do you want now? I told you already. I have to get my arse out of this bed and away from that wretched… woman before I can take care of you, wench.”

“Do stop calling me that, Sev. Surely you’ve come up with something new by now.”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve taken a liking to wench. I think I shall call you that forever.”

“Like hell you will. How are you feeling? Any better at all? Idiot.”

“Wench. I’m much better. No thanks to you. Some fine mage you are. All those famed healing powers nothing but a lie.”

“Nothing of the kind. I’d just rather watch you suffer. Maybe you’ll think twice next time before you go rushing in to save the day and mucking everything up, you sodding greasy git.”

He flinched, “Wench.”

“Bite me.”

“Gladly. Just move a bit closer. You can’t expect me to do all the work.”

She laughed a high, sparkling laugh that filled his head with light and power. He was suddenly giddy from the affect. She was quite powerful and it was hurting, damn it!

“Do stop laughing, woman. That hurts.”

“Good. At least you can feel it. Now, how about that ravaging lusty attack you promised?”

“Hell no. Not now. I’m too bloody tired.”

She pursed her lips in a rather appealing way, “Too bad. I was rather looking forward to it. Suppose I’ll just have to settle for detention with Harry Potter.”

“What’s that fool done now?”

“Nothing. Which is, of course, exactly the problem. That boy hasn’t completed his assignments for my class for the past month! And I’ve a bone to pick with you about some of your own students. Pansy Parkinson--”

“Bloody hell, what’s she done now?”

“She’s been passing rather… steamy… notes about a certain housemate of hers. I’m rather fed up with it. I wanted to vomit the second I began reading her little ‘Ode to Draco.’ Gods, but that girl needs to get a grip!”

“I agree whole-heartedly. Of course, she’ll get him in the end. The Malfoys are known for getting trapped by women they have no real fondness for, you know.”

She smiled, “I know more than you think, Severus. Lucius and I… became rather… close.”

“Merlin’s Ghost. What ever that man told you, it isn’t true.”

“Yes it was. You’re not the only one around here that’s good with potions.”

He closed his eyes, “Damn you, woman. You pervade everything, don’t you?”

“It’s what I do, Sev. It’s what I’ve always been best at.” Her smile was so sly and complex and full of powerful meanings on a hundred levels and it made him dizzy.

“Gods, woman! I told you to stop that!”

She grinned, “All right. I promise. I’ll stop. For now. I make no promises once you’re well again.”

“Fine. I’ll just punish you when the time comes. Now, if I could just convince Poppy that I’m fine, I could have my way with you and be content at last. Damn you. Its all your fault I’m in the wrong bloody bed.”

“Is not. You’re the one who insisted on that little suicide mission. Daft bloke.”

“Perhaps I am. What the bloody hell do I want with you?”

“Besides my irresistible body? Oh, and my incredible hands all over you? And my lips kissing every inch of you? And my youthful stamina pleasing you at every turn? And my undying bloody devotion? And my word that I won’t tell the world what Lucius told me about you? Oh, not much, I suppose.”

“Wench.”

“That all you have to say? You disappoint me, old man.”

“Old? Now I’m old? Considering where you’ve been you have the audacity to call me old?”

“Yes. You are and you know it. I’m young and nubile. Admit it. You want me. You wanted me the moment you laid eyes on me.”

“No I didn’t.”

“That was quite unconvincing. You’re going to have to come up with something better than that. I expect nothing but your best, you greasy git. I don’t waste my time on anyone anymore.”

“I’ll come up with something better when I’m finished having my way with you.”

“You mean, of course, when I have my way with you.”

“I mean exactly what I said, you uppity bitch.”

“And that’s exactly what you love about me, dimwit.”

“Children! Enough! Severus, I believe you are well enough to leave the hospital wing. And if you’re not, well, that’s too bad. Poppy is sick of you. You’re too churlish for her, I’m afraid.” Albus Dumbledore entered the room.

“Fine by me. I’ll just go to my chambers and nap for a bit.”

“If you’re well enough, Severus, I’d prefer if you taught the rest of your classes today. We’re rather short-handed at the moment.”

“Of course, Headmaster. Not a problem.”

“Good. Oriole, I suggest you return to your classroom as well. Afternoon lessons will begin very shortly.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dumbledore made no move to leave. He watched them with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Tonight, Severus. I’ll be expecting you when my detention is finished.” She was using her power to give that smile again.

And it was hurting him again. “Damn it, woman. Don’t start that now! You promised.”

“Well, if Poppy says you’re well, the promise is void, Sev. I warned you. Senile, deaf, sodding, old, greasy--”

“Do not call me that again, Oriole. I haven’t the patience for it now.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’ve given me a right proper headache, wench. Sodding mage… a sodding, bloody mage! Why me?”

“Just lucky, I guess… Sevvie!” She ran from him before he could catch her.

“DAMN YOU!”

Her laughter echoed back to him from the hall.

“I hate mages. Especially that one,” he mumbled as he pushed the sheets back and climbed out of the bed.

Dumbledore just grinned and said, “I suggest you hurry, my boy. Class will begin in about ten minutes.” And then he was gone.

Severus went directly to his dungeons. Bloody Gryffindors. Potter. Granger. Weasley. Longbottom. Today is not my day.

He glared at the Dream Team with pure malice all through the lesson. He was so intent on them that he barely noticed when Neville’s cauldron melted. Of course, he took fifteen points and gave the boy a detention, but to the class he seemed rather… lenient. Severus did not want to be in class. He wanted to be in bed. Doing what, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he wanted to be in a bed… somewhere.

Oriole was having the same conflict in her afternoon classes. She was furious about the detention she had inflicted on herself. It’s only going to be that much longer to wait. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Bloody bastard. He’s really ruined me.

When seven o’clock came around, Oriole was in an exceptionally bad mood. And Harry was the first to notice.

“Professor…?”

“Sit, Potter. When the girls get here, I’ll give you your assignment.”

He did as he was told, terrified by the anger in her eyes.

Pansy and her friend Ardis arrived, Oriole stood and gestured for all three of them to come to the front of the class. The students did so, fear radiating from every one of them. There was no house rivalry now. The two Slytherins all but ignored Harry, so attentive to Professor Mason were they.

“Now, Potter, Parkinson, Gilead. The three of you will translate this manuscript from the original Latin into proper English. Then you will make three copies. You will give one to me, one to your parents, and one for yourself. You will use your copy whenever you disrupt my class again. You will recite it, in its entirety, to the class. By doing so, you will, in all probability, make your classmates’ homework that much longer and you’ll be late for lunch.

“Tonight, you will not be dismissed until I am satisfied with your translations. Now begin.”

The three students nodded their heads and sat together at one desk, sharing the scroll, too afraid to argue.

Harry wondered whom he’d send the second copy to. The Dursleys? No, they would want nothing to do with it. Dumbledore? No, Harry wasn’t his responsibility. Sirius? Of course. Sirius. His godfather.

While her students worked diligently, Oriole allowed herself to sink deeply into thoughts she desperately needed to sort through. I cannot have a child with Severus. He was so worried. If only he knew, he would be so angry. So hurt. It wasn’t my choice. Lucius… What was I supposed to do? Damn her! Damn him too. Nothing I can do about that. Children? I never want children. That was a childhood fantasy and nothing more. I am not meant to be a mother. Not after all I have seen and done. A smile touched her lips, Severus… my love… oh, tonight… at last, at long bloody last! How long have I waited for this? Longer than you know, Sev. You don’t know what you mean to me. What you have done for me. It has always been you. Always.

Her face was suddenly beset with worry, I wonder if Dumbledore has succeeded? I hope so. I need a Yogi to train me. Desperately. There is only so much I can do alone. I must be strong. The final battle is coming.

The boy caught her eye then. How strange. He makes me think of what could have been. He is not the one, no. But they are the same. So very much the same! Like dark and light. Oh, Lucius, why? Why did you do what you did? Why wasn’t I good enough? Why was the Dark Lord’s Queen never enough for you? Why did you fear her? She was never anything. She never gave you what I could. What I did give you. Why was the Master’s choice not good enough? Damn you, Lucius! I will have no choice now, will I? You have sealed it for us. You never wanted me to love you, so I didn’t. I never will. You always feared that, didn’t you? But I gave you what she never could. I hope you love him better than you loved me. He… ours…

But Severus… did you know, Lucius? Is that why you kept me away? Did you see it in my eyes? Did you see him in me? Did you know? I loved him even then. Did you hate him for that? Or was it me you hated? Oh, Lucius… you must have known. I never hid it. Why should I? He was all I ever wanted. You were nothing to me, were you? Only a tool for me to use and you knew it. And you let me. Gods, but you let me! What a pair we made, Lucius. But what we could have been, that scared you. You thought what I said was treachery, even though you heard the truth in it. He would have been nothing, Lucius, if you had only been braver. You were weak, Lucius. You never really wanted power. Not real power. That would be too much for you. Too much responsibility, wasn’t it?

But still you tore him from me. Why, Lucius? Why couldn’t you leave me that? You took everything I had. And then you took the only thing I cared for. My son. Our son. He is not hers. And he was never to know the truth. I will have him back, Lucius. He is mine and he will know it.

I will have the family that I have deserved. My lover, my son, and I.

“P—Professor?”

“Yes? What is it?”

“I—I’ve finished, Professor.”

“Let me see.”

The girl handed it over. She has talent, this one. Ardis Gilead. I shall remember you, girl. “This will do. Have you made the copies?”

The girl nodded and showed her teacher the other two scrolls.

“Good. Now, I shall keep this one and I shall send that one to your parents with a letter explaining why. Give it here.”

The girl complied and handed her the second scroll.

“Now, go directly to your dormitory. Do not stop anywhere along the way. If I hear that you have done otherwise, I shall be seeing your head of house. Professor Snape, I believe.”

“Y—yes, Ma’am. I—I won’t stop. I p—promise.”

“Go.”

The girl all but ran from the classroom.

Potter finished about twenty minutes later.

“Professor Mason?” When she looked up, he handed her the scrolls.

She looked them over critically. They were not as good as Ardis’s had been, but they were sufficient. Besides, Oriole didn’t want to keep him any longer than she had to. “Fine. Now, I know I cannot send this to your parents, so who shall I send it to? The muggle family you--?”

“No!” he interrupted, terrified, “No, Ma’am. They hate magic and they hate Hogwarts. They will be very angry if they receive this.”

“Then who is responsible for you?”

“Well… my godfather.”

“Ah. And who is that?”

“Well, I… I can’t tell you. He’s, well, he’s kind of on the run.”

She raised her eyebrow, “Well, that will hardly do, Potter.”

“You could talk to Dumbledore about it, Professor. I’m sure he would know who to send it to. My aunt and uncle, well, they really don’t like to know about me when I’m here. They… they don’t want to be involved, if you understand…?”

“Yes, I understand very well, Mr. Potter. I will see Professor Dumbledore about your case. You may go. And the same warning applies to you, Potter. Go directly to your dormitory or I will see Professor McGonagall.”

“Yes, Professor.”

And he was gone. At least he had enough courage to walk calmly and slowly from the room.

Pansy Parkinson noticeably increased her work speed when she realized she was alone in the classroom with a very angry professor.

Oriole smiled, a cruel sort of sneer, really. “Parkinson? Bring me your work. I want to see how much you have left.”

The girl hung her head but complied.

The parchment was blotchy and very poor. She had scratched out almost everything and still her translation was nowhere near correct. Stupid girl! She looked carefully and was surprised to see that the girl had doodled on it. The doodles were of little hearts surrounding “Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson Forever.” Ugh! This girl is impossible!

“Miss Parkinson, this is horrid. You have accomplished nothing at all. I am quite ashamed. I will have to talk to Professor Snape about this.”

“I—I’m sorry, Professor.” There were tears in the girl’s eyes and her voice was quite shaky. “I—I’m horrible with Latin and I—”

“Enough excuses, Miss Parkinson. If you do not stop daydreaming about your classmates and pay attention to your studies, your efforts will not improve one whit. If I see one more of these,” she indicated the little hearts on the scroll, “in my class, Parkinson, I will be forced to take more drastic measures. You are here to learn witchcraft, young lady. If you do not stop wasting my time, I will be forced to fail you.”

“B—but, but… Professor! I…”

“What, Parkinson? I do not accept excuses.”

“I’m sorry, Professor.”

“Good. Now, you will go. I will send an owl to your parents and I will see Professor Snape about this. I am sure he will not be very happy with you.”

The girl swallowed and nodded. “I am sorry, Professor Mason. I’ll try harder from now on.”

“Good. Now go. I have other things to attend to.”

Pansy Parkinson nodded, collected her things, and left. She would break out into tears in the hallway as she headed for her dormitory.

Finally! Oh, Merlin’s Ghost, I must look awful! I need to freshen up! And with that, Oriole Mason entered her personal chambers and prepared for the happy night ahead.

 

While Oriole was presiding over her detention, Severus was feeling exhausted. Bloody hell, I need some sleep or that woman is going to destroy me. Ah, but I am the Potions Master at this school am I not? A smile played on his lips as he began collecting the ingredients he needed for his potion.

He worked diligently through dinner and well into the night, hoping that her detention was running long.

At last his brew was finished. He took a deep swallow and almost instantaneously, he began to feel better. Healthy, strong, refreshed. I shall surprise her tonight. I will show her how old I am! We will see who had who tonight, Oriole. It is my turn to win, girl.

He swiftly closed up his chambers and headed for hers. He forgot to drink the other potion that he had prepared. The one Dumbledore had suggested.

A knock sounded at her door, “Ah, Bre, there’s that raven!” She laughed at her own joke as her owl flew out the open window. She put her hand on the handle, but before she had opened it more than an inch, he was upon her.

He pushed the door aside and breezed into the room, taking her into his hungry arms. He slammed the door to behind him and roughly brushed his lips against hers. She became instantly compliant in his arms, bending to his will, opening her mouth and seeking out his kisses. He pushed her towards the bed, roughly, hungrily.

“Severus,” she whispered, desire tingeing her voice.

He shoved her onto the bed. With a wave of his wand, their clothing was gone. She gasped, and his smirk answered her, ‘There are some advantages to a wand.’

She reached out to him, “Severus… my love…”

He pushed her embrace aside and placed himself above her. He kissed her. Every inch of her body, wanting to taste her, to memorize her every curve. His hands worked their own magic, running up and down her body, sending small ripples of pleasure whenever they struck their mark.

She entangled her fingers in his hair and moaned with pleasure and desire. His name on her lips sounded impossible and incredible and he would give anything to hear her say it that way forever.

“You are mine, Oriole…” he whispered, “Mine. Forever.”

“Damn it, Severus. Please. Just… I want you, now.”

He shook his head and grinned, “No. I told you I’d have you my way, and I meant it.”

“Damn you… Oh!”

“Damn me? Then you shall be damned too.”

“Severus Snape! Have me and be done with it!”

“Wench, I have waited far too long for this. I intend to enjoy it for as long as I can.”

“I hate you, Sev. I really hate you.”

He smiled, “I know.”

 

Exhausted, they laid entangled upon her bed. The covers lay forgotten on the floor beside their robes. He wrapped his arm around her and held her tight. She laid half on top of him, her head resting on his bare chest.

He nuzzled his face into her wild hair and smiled, “Satisfied now, wench?”

“Quite impressive, love. Coming from me, that must mean something, after all…” She smiled slyly.

She looks like a true Slytherin with that grin. “I suppose. Speaking of previous affairs, I want to know what Lucius told you of me.”

“Its not so much what he said, really. Its what he didn’t say. And…”

He placed a single slender finger beneath her chin and lifted her face so that he could look into her eyes, “And what?”

“And… oh, it’s so hard to explain! There’s so much…”

“We have all night, love.”

“Yes. Very well. When I was taken… After Voldemort claimed me, he… offered me to the others. They raped me, beat me, used me. I was defenseless. I was wretched. It was horrid, but I survived and I fought back. Feebly, perhaps, but I never lost that fighting spirit.

“One night, I heard voices outside my cell. Two male voices…

 

“Severus! Come on. It’ll be fun! He offered her to us himself! We can’t refuse!” That voice was silky and cocky, full of dangerous passions that I wanted no part of. I didn’t want him to come in. He would surely be just as cruel as the others

“Yes we can. We shouldn’t, Lucius. It’s wrong. These girls… they don’t deserve this. Gods, Lucius! She’s as pureblood as we are! She’s a Mason! If we do anything with her, it should be to help her escape.” This voice was silky too, but it was barely more than a whisper. But it sounded more powerful, more just, and handsome and kind… I hoped he would come in… The voice of my savior! Dare I dream, dare I hope?

“Sev, you can’t be serious! That’s treason!”

“Fine. Then at least don’t…”

“Can’t stomach it? Fine, then leave. I want her. Don’t you remember her from school?”

“No. She was barely twelve when we left. Lucius. You weren’t looking at her then, were you?”

“Maybe. She’s not that young anymore. She’s what? Fifteen? Sixteen? Ripe and pure, I’d wager.”

“Fine, Lucius. Have her. But I’ll have nothing to do with this! It’s not right, even for us. She’s Mason’s daughter!”

“Yes, but he was a traitor, Severus. She’s paying for him.”

“Fine. But I’m not participating.” With that, he stormed off.

My last hope: gone. The other voice was still there. He would come in, and he would surely hurt me. He sounded terrifying.

The door to my cell swung open, and there stood my tormentor.

Lucius Malfoy, Deatheater.

He was handsome with that long flaxen hair, that arrogant stance, those deep gray eyes. Gods, I was terrified!

He looked me up and down and called for a house-elf. “This won’t do! She isn’t clean! That just isn’t sanitary. Give her a bath and some fresh clothes. Bring her to my room when she is ready.” He stormed out and the house-elf took my hand.

When the elves were finished cleaning me up, I was led out of the dungeons to the private quarters of the Deatheaters. In Voldemort’s castle, each Deatheater was given his own room for those nights he needed to be with his Master, or for other things… like using me and the other girls. For our services, as if we had a choice!

The elf knocked quickly on the door and disappeared. I was alone when Lucius opened his door. When he saw me, a smile appeared. It was a smile tinged with insanity, but it was kind too. “Ah, at last. Come in; come in. Now you look like a girl. Lovely.” His eyes were hungry. I had learned that look quite well of late. It did not bode well for me.

He must have noticed me shiver, because he said, “Chilly?”

I shook my head.

“Good. Now, come here.”

I obeyed, though he must have seen the anger in me. He pulled me into his embrace and kissed me roughly and forced my lips to part with his tongue. I let him, but I did not respond to his touch. I lay cold and unfeeling in his arms.

“This won’t do. You must give me what I want of you.”

“Isn’t this exactly what you want? The others assured me that kicking and biting was not allowed.” I sneered, sounding more confident than I felt. I was scared of him, of all of them.

He laughed, “That’s true enough, but what I want is a partner in this. You must participate.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You should. I have been told I am quite a good lover.”

“I don’t want a lover. Especially not a Deatheater. I hate you and all of your kind.”

“Too bad, my dear, because you are one of us. It is your destiny. The Dark Lord has plans for you, love. Great plans. But for now, he wants you to be… prepared. I think I shall do it. It will benefit all parties involved, I believe.”

“And how does any of this benefit me?” I all but spat it, I felt so sour.

“Plenty well. If you belong to the Dark Lord and me alone, none of the others shall touch you. And you will be groomed into a lady, and a lover of great renown.”

I sneered, “I don’t want that. I want to go home. I want to finish my schooling at Hogwarts.”

“And finish you shall, if you agree to my offer. Though you can never return home. Your father is a traitor to the Dark Lord, who is your master now.”

“No! My father is my master!”

“Wrong, my dear. Your father is master of nothing. He no longer masters even himself.”

“What have you done to him?” I screamed, I beat him with my fists, but I was weak of body from lack of food and sleep, and from much abuse.

He grabbed my hands and pulled them to my side, gently, but firmly. “I have done nothing to him. What Lord Voldemort has put upon him, he brought upon himself.”

Tears stained my cheeks. “Why? Why me? What I am to all of you?”

His smile was full of knowledge. He spoke as though explaining to a child a very complicated theory and left out much of the detail, “You are very important to us, love. Great things shall come of you. You are very special, girl! The Dark Lord has chosen you!”

“Chosen me? Who would choose me? I am nothing.”

“No. You are someone. A very important someone. Lord Voldemort only chooses the most worthy.”

“What must I do, then?”

“You must let me teach you. Let me protect you and show you the world. You must be mine so that you can understand. So that you may fulfill the prophecy.”

I thought to myself for a moment. I had no hope of escape, no hope of rescue. But what Lucius offered was escape from horror, escape from the rape and the dark, dank dungeons. That was something at least. And this new thought: I am special. I am important. I am someone. “Okay.” I bit my lip. “I am afraid.”

“Good. Now, you should be. You will learn later that fear is below you, but now, it is necessary. You have much to learn, my dear.” Suddenly, I saw the look in his eyes change. Desire resided where the indulgent parent had been a moment before. “Now, I shall give you your first lesson,” his voice was deep and husky and full of need, “You will begin to learn what it means to be a good lover tonight. Follow me, love, and I will show you a great wide world of pleasure beyond your imagination.”

And show me he did. A hundred times over, he showed me. And I became a rather eager student in his embrace. It did not hurt when he touched me. It felt glorious!

The months passed and I learned. Soon I had my own rooms. And only two men ever touched me. Lucius and Lord Voldemort. I was being groomed for a glorious future, then. And those days were wonderful.

I returned to Hogwarts and completed my education. If anyone there noticed my transformation, I took no heed. I hurried my education forward, eager to return to my Master, and to my lover. My Lucius.

I was in such a hurry that I graduated a year early from school. I was just sixteen when I finished my education. Only sixteen when I received the Dark Mark and entered the fold of the Dark Lord. Those days were glorious and golden. I was strong and powerful and at the side of the two most feared among us. Lord Voldemort, our Master. Lucius Malfoy, my lover. I went with him when he went after the muggles and mudbloods. I killed and tortured at his side. And I enjoyed it. I relished in their pain and suffering. I was more important than they, I was power in human form!

Then, one day, I discovered that I was pregnant. I was carrying Lucius’s child and I was joyful. He would surely make me his wife now and discard that dreaded Narcissa forever. We did not wed, but I gave birth to a beautiful boy and for a year, Lucius postponed his and Narcissa’s engagement. For one glorious, perfect year, I had a family of my own. A lover and a son to call my own. We were favored above all others by the Dark Lord and feared by everyone else.

But then Lord Voldemort went after the Potters. And their precious baby boy defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard in the world.

Lucius broke his word to our Master then. He feared the Ministry. He took my baby and he married Narcissa and he left me. He let that woman call my son her own and he deserted me. Our Master had always told him that if for any reason, our Lord was defeated, he must take care of me and marry me and continue the cause with me by his side. He was my consort, as I was the Master’s. And he deserted us.

For twelve long years, I watched them. The Malfoys. The family that should have been mine. I lost the will to live, the will to care. My son was not my own. My heart was gone. I simply waited. I had nothing else. I waited, and the Dark Lord returned.

When I heard of him, I returned to him, but he had no need of me then. He had no physical form and could not enjoy me, but still he kept me close. I cared for nothing any longer. Lucius had destroyed me and left me an empty shell, nothing but a void. So, I served my Master as he needed me, though he needed almost nothing from me. I helped his other servants. I helped Quirrell and Wormtail and Crouch. I aided them as the Master commanded, but I had no soul.

Then the Triwizard Tournament happened. The Master had risen again. He had need of me once more. And he allowed me small punishments upon Lucius and his wife, but I had no desire for it. I had no desire for anything but the end. And now the end would never come for the prophecy was mine alone to fulfill. I was needed once more, but the right… combination was not found. Each pregnancy was terminated almost as soon as it was discovered.

Then Lord Voldemort decided that it was time he had a spy in Dumbledore’s domain. And he chose me. So I went, though I dreaded it.

I did not fear Dumbledore. He was nothing to me, but there was another. The voice that had haunted me for the past thirteen years… the man who possessed that voice was at Hogwarts.

Severus Snape. Deatheater. Spy. Potions Master. Hogwarts Professor. The Other.

The Other. Lucius Malfoy has had many lovers. But only two have ever truly meant something to him. Myself and the Other.

Sometimes, when we were making love, Lucius cried out a name. A name I knew as well as my own, but it was not my own. It was Severus. Passion and emotion were torn from Lucius’s throat when he cried that name. When I asked him once, he had been so adamant, so sure that he had said no such thing; it was then that I knew. I was not the only lover who possessed him. I was not the only lover he craved.

It was strange that my lover should crave the same man that I did. We two, Lucius and I, wanted the man behind that voice. Our Severus. For he was ours. Lucius had possessed him at least once, of that I was sure, and I longed with every fiber of my soul to be possessed by him. Severus. Beloved Severus.

But there I was, faced with seeing that man. The man I had burned for, desired, for so long. But I desired nothing anymore and I did not want to desire again. I was terrified that he could make me desire once more. Force me to feel. If he forced me to open again, I knew it would be too much. Surely, it would kill me. I had long ago forced emotion away. Emotions made you want to live, to love. I wanted only to die. I did not want a man to give me a reason to live again. I had had too many reasons torn from me in the past. I did not want another to lose.

Damn him, but he did it anyway. Despite every defense I used, every attempt at cruelty, malice, contempt, anger… every defense I could build, he tore them away. He broke through every wall, found every chink in my armor. He defeated me at every turn. It only made my desire stronger.

And I hated him for this. I wanted to give him back to the master he had turned from, but how could I? I loved him. Despite everything I had done to stop it, I loved this man. He was my enemy. He was my match. I hated him and I loved him. Terror flowed through me at every turn. Gods, but he had broken me! Not all the Deatheaters combined, not Lord Voldemort, not even my precious Lucius could do that. But here, this one sad, injured, malevolent, mysterious man, had.

Finally, my heart demanded to be heard: ‘Screw it all. Take this one small happiness and run with it for as long as you can!’

And I did.

“So, here I am.” She smiled at him, content and at peace after far too much suffering.

“Yes. Here. You. Are.” He pulled her close, laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Perhaps I should explain about Lucius.”

“Yes. You will, but not now.” Her smile turned seductive and feline.

She let her hands slide down his body, seeking out his weakness for her touch.

Her hands were his only thought, his only care. He ran his fingers through her hair and released a moan of guttural pleasure. Damn, the way she touches… Lucius, you taught her well… too well, you damn bloody fool…

They made love again and again until neither of them could stand a moment more. When at last they collapsed onto the bed and into sleep, they both wore a smile of true peace that neither had known for a very long while.

 

Severus slowly lifted himself from sleep, but he did not open his eyes. He languished as the previous night’s events returned to him in vivid detail. Slowly, he reached out across the bed, her bed, he smiled to himself at that. His fingers searched her out, aching to touch her.

But he did not find her and he felt panic grip his heart. “Oriole…” his call was but a whisper and he couldn’t bear to open his eyes.

He opened them anyway and searched frantically for her.

His eyes landed upon a welcome sight. She was seated at her window, owl on her shoulder, and a long shaft of wood in her hands.

Hands working that shaft so like they had last night, a sly, lazy grin touched his lips. Maybe she’d be agreeable to turning her attentions back to mine…

But he didn’t speak. He watched her. He was mesmerized as he watched her work. She was skillful at it, intuitive, her hands seeming to have a mind of their own.

Gods, but she’s lovely, so lovely… Severus Snape, however did you catch such a girl?

She knew when he awoke, though she refused to acknowledge it. She let his eyes linger on her, basking in his worshipful gaze. Gods, his eyes… they have such power in them…

Finally, he rose from the bed. She seemed to take no notice. He walked slowly up behind her, as her back was to the bed. When he reached her, he gently placed his arms around her shoulders and leaned down and kissed her hair.

“Morning, Sev, you lazy git.”

“Good morning, wench.”

“Whatever has happened to that sharp wit of yours? Is that really the best you can do?”

“No, but its all you shall get. Now, do come back to bed. I’m not finished with you.”

She laughed, “Oh, but you are. For now. I’ve work to do, Snape. Do let me be.”

“Damn you, woman. Why won’t you be obedient?”

“Because. Why don’t you go and take a shower? Let me be.”

He grinned, “I’ll never leave you be again, wench. You belong to me now.”

“Maybe, but I have work to do. And so do you. We haven’t won this war yet. And I still have a few… personal… scores to settle.”

“Ah, yes. Malfoys.”

“Yes I want my son back, Sev. You must understand that. Especially now…”

“Of course, love. You shall have your son back,” he paused. He grinned, “Even if he is a useless prat.”

“Yes, well, that’s hardly my fault. I’ll soon have him acting like a Mason. Sensible and useful. He’ll learn, and quickly, if he has any brains at all. And he does. He is my son.”

He smiled down at her, “If you refuse to come to bed, why not join me in the bath?”

She shook her head in frustration, “Because. I have work to do. And if I did, it would probably kill you.”

He raised an eyebrow and said, “Kill me?”

“Yes. Kill you. There are certain… dangers… to being a mage’s lover, Sev.”

“Are you saying we can’t ever enjoy a bath together?”

“Well, yes and no. I have much to learn yet, dear. And right now, I’m hardly in the mood. Now go take a bath. Now. Or I will never let you in my bed again.”

He gave her a quizzical look, “You didn’t seem to mind me last night…”

“Yes, yes. Don’t bother me with facts, Sev. I don’t have time for such petty detail. Besides, it’s not that you smell or anything. Well, not badly,” she smiled lazily, “It’s just the principal of the thing. And I need to get you out of my hair for a bit. Now go, sodding git.”

“Oh, all right. Wench.”

“Shut it. Sevvie.” She said, almost giggling.

“Bite me,” he growled angrily.

“Not now. Maybe later.” She said cheerfully as she grinned.

He just shook his head and disappeared into the bathroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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