Enraptured Release
Title: Enraptured Release
Author/Artist: (LJ: silverlioness80; AO3: Silver Lioness; FanFiction: Silver Orbed Lioness)
Characters: Lily Evans; Severus Snape, Lord Voldemort/Tom Riddle, Fern Evans, Euphemia Potter, Regulus Black, Rodolphus Lestrange, Madam Rosmerta. Bellatrix Lestrange, James Potter, Mary McDonald, OCs.
Prompt number: 67
Word Count: 33,359K
Rating: NC-17; MA
Warnings: Prostitution. Infidelity. May/December relationship. Questionable fatherhood of Harry. Graphic descriptions of Het Sex, death and violence. Angst. Polyandry. Obsession. HET.
Summary: Lily has been having doubts over whether James really is the right man for her. Even her parents have not accepted James to be their son-in-law. What happens when she receives a letter from a drunk Severus telling her that he is scared – he realises he does not want the Mark and does not know what to do to refuse it. Lily, the brave Gryffindor that she is, decides to foolishly sell her body for her friend's arm to remain unmarked.
Does the Dark Lord keep to the deal? What happens when he finds out she is pregnant – possibly with his child?
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. Devil and the Deep Dark Ocean belongs to Nightwish.
Author's Notes: (Thank you for Beta-ing: Trusting Doubt to Lurid Lusts - Mr Benzedrine. Adumbral Amour – Epilogue - Geekmom13)
Trusting Doubt
Three Weeks Before Wedding
"From cradle to coffin
Shall my wickedness be your passion"
He watched the owl fly off into the black velvet of the night and sighed as the avian cast a silhouette against the silvery silkiness of the Lady Moon. This was his chance. His last chance, and he did not wish to mess it up.
The young man shook his head and walked from the public Owlery to The Three Broomsticks. He shook the rain off him and Madam Rosmerta greeted him. There were many salacious rumours partially true, about Madam Rosmerta. Severus had to concede that she was a fairly sexy witch; bushy brown hair that seemed to crackle pink when amused, lively blue eyes that sparkled playfully, and full sumptuous lips that made many a Wizard's sigh with a desire to kiss. No matter with whom his heart was at home with, even he wished to suckle the lower, plump lip of the witty and wonderful Rosmerta. When he was even younger, he watched Black shamelessly flirt with the newly installed barmaid.
"What can I get ya, love?" she asked as he sloped towards the stools and slumped in one. "No need for the long face, Severus." She leaned over, offering her guest a more than generous view of cleavage and smiled flirtatiously at him. "Been to the post office late, Ducks?" she murmured in his ear. "You know I am sure I could help you out of your situation, dearie," she ran a long purple painted fingernail along his strict jaw. "If you want help I can do so much more than pull punters and pints."
"I will…"
"Madam Rosmerta," another punter whistled, interrupting their rather interesting chat. "I wanna look-see – why should that slobbering youth who don't know what ter to do with 'em get it?"
Enraged, Severus stood up off the stool and stormed to where the uncouth man sat, grabbing him by the front of his robes. Not caring that the git was twice his size, all Severus saw was red at the idea of the only other person who had shown him kindness being publicly insulted. He made sure to gaze deeply in the drunk's eyes; what he saw sickened him, so he snarled.
"You will apologise to Madam Rosmerta at once," he hissed in the face of the now frightened, less than sufficient, wizard. "She is not some show for you to ogle at – she is a witch – treat her like one!"
Despite the fear in his eyes, the man sneered down at this upstart of a wizard. "I seen ter more than 'er in my life I can tell ya!" he leered as he cupped his groin to show off what turned out to be a small appendage.
Severus thrust the lout away from him, swiftly whipping out his wand and hissing a stinging hex aiming at the man's groin.
"Get out!" he snapped.
The wizard scurried out of the front door, muttering about the Hogs Head giving a better atmosphere anyway. The incident shook Severus – he turned on his heel, clutching his wand tightly in his fisted hand.
"Anyone else?" he challenged, prepared to fight like the Cokeworth scum he was. "Come on, I'm only a skinny kid after all!"
Everyone turned back to their drinks, muttering amongst themselves. Severus straightened his back as he stalked up to the bar to a highly amused, but somewhat flattered, barmaid.
"On the house, darling; not everyone comes to my defence so chivalrously."
"I watched my mother being mistreated by a man like him – please do yourself a favour and perhaps not be so alluring."
Rosmerta giggled. "You are sure you are meant to be a Slytherin? You are acting like a..."
"Don't you dare," he said slowly, but a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth conveyed his understanding that Rosmerta was teasing him. "Please, Madam Rosmerta, you are better than this."
The barmaid sighed. "I was a Hufflepuff, you know. We lived near the kitchens. We believed in helping. This is my calling. Have you found yours?"
He nodded briefly as he sipped at his mead. "I was nine when I found my calling. Flying through the air, hair streaming behind as she gracefully floated to the ground."
"But you weren't hers?" Rosmerta sighed, patting his hand sympathetically. Anyone else and Severus would have hexed the hand off them but he liked her. He could talk about anything to her. "Her calling is in a different place?"
"With a different person," he sighed.
The object of Severus and Rosmerta's discussion was staring pensively out of her window, watching the slow encroachment of autumn, picking out leaves that matched her hair and eyes. The dark brown foliage had fallen and was trampled into mush on the stone and gravel paths below. She was staying at the Potter family estate: Kilners Grove.
"Why the long sigh and sad eyes, love?" Her mother was with her, gently brushing Lily's fecund follicles. She was pleased that their parents seemed to get on well. "Penny for your thoughts?"
"Oh Mum, where do I begin?"
"That bad?"
"You have no idea." She rested her elbow on the windowsill, curled her fingers into her palm, and set her chin on her knuckles. "Am I doing the right thing, Ma?"
Fern narrowed her hazel eyes as she looked at her daughter in a state of confusion. Nothing in Lily's life had made her daughter doubt herself.
"I am not sure what you mean?"
"Marrying James – I am not even nineteen. Yet, right now, I am expected to commit myself to a life where I know I do not belong. I come from a terraced street – this is huge. It's like Pemberly. At least Lizzie was a gentleman's daughter. Who am I?"
"Lily Evans," her mother said as she continued stroking the brush through her daughter's beautiful hair. "Come on, dear, why don't you tell me what this really is about?"
Fern watched as her youngest and most intriguing daughter stood up and walked over to her large four-poster bed, crawling into the centre of it looking extremely small amongst the large canopy.
"I miss him, Ma," Lily sighed. "I really still do miss him. He was the first person who made me feel special, and he was my first real friend. Now he is on the opposite side, and I still... s-still..." Lily collapsed in a sob. She drew her knees up to her chest and rocked herself as she cried. Fern gently sat next to her daughter, wrapping an arm around her, carefully stroking her hair back from Lily's face. Fern planted a kiss on the top of her daughter's head. "W-why w-wasn't I enough for him, ma? No one is as interesting as him! I am scared that one day I may bore of James or he may of me. Goodness knows we have little in common. I like his friends well enough, but they're not... mine."
"What has happened to yours?"
"Hiding, dead, or scared!"
The older woman sighed. "I know of what you are going through more than you think, darling," she said. "My name is not really Fern; I had it altered. Did you know I am Jewish?"
Lily wiped her eyes. "What?"
"Oh, yes. I was saved as a child, but I was friends with a boy who wasn't – Years later I saw him and..."
Lily gasped. "You did not have to change your name, Ma," she said. "What is your real name?"
"It is part of yours: my name is Judith. Your father found me during the war when I was fifteen. It took me awhile to feel comfortable – he renamed me Fern because he found me hiding in a bush of them."
Wow. Lily blinked. She had nothing to say about that. How come her mother never revealed this fact about herself before? The witch shuffled closer to Fern.
"I had no idea, Ma," she whispered and curled her head on Fern's lap, allowing her mother to pet and stroke her like she was a child. "I am to be married, and I do not know what to do."
Fern wished she could give her daughter a simple answer with the black and white principle Lily lived by. However, life was not that easy. Normally, it took a few stumbles in the dark before the answer was found, and this was Lily's own personal battle with dark part of her emotions. She knew Lily missed Severus. Fern herself could see that, though happy, she was not fulfilled with James. Certainly not as she was with Severus. It was not up to her, though, where Lily's heart led.
"I just wish he was not so drawn to the dark."
Fern sighed. "I have always felt that the night held its own beauty – there are many colours and shades to be seen – do you not love the sight of a glowing moon as clouds scud by?"
"There is nothing beautiful in the darkest arts!"
"Hmm," Fern replied. "The sea is beautiful, is it not?"
"Of course, yet dangers lurk beneath."
"Should a shark ruin the view?"
Lily sighed and wiped some tears off her face, looking at the black stain on her hand due to the runny mascara and liner. She looked at her mother with a pensive frown then decided to leave it. Fern had stood up, still tucking damp hair from her daughter's porcelain face.
"I think I understand what you are trying to say but that cannot be..."
An owl tapped on the window – the wind had picked up; tree branches had been hitting the glass for awhile, so the owl was ignored until now. When Lily saw the gorgeous white bird with tawny eyes she rushed up to the window, lifted the latch, and opened it manually. James had never understood that part of her character – why bother doing things the muggle way when you could do magic now without being expelled? Both Remus and Lily rolled their eyes as this proved how different his upbringing was compared to theirs.
"Hello boy," Fern cooed to the bird. "Here," she picked out some honey roasted ham from a sandwich that had been there for over an hour. Lily did not seem to be hungry, and the bird accepted the offering whilst Lily was fumbling in her purse. Once Lily produced the coin and placed it in the leather pouch around the night raptor, she took the scroll clutched into his talons. "Thank you, sweetie."
The owl left, and Lily unfurled the scroll after breaking the seal with her thumb. She gasped as she recognised the spidery scrawl from anywhere. She sank into the nearest seat, as white as sheet.
"Who is it from?" her mother asked.
"The devil himself," Lily said. "Severus wrote to me, Ma."
"I will leave you alone with the missive, sweetheart."
With that, Fern quietly left the room and shut the door so that Lily could contemplate what her friend wrote to her. If she had known the contents of the letter and what would transpire, she would have stayed or asked Dumbledore to arrive. As it was, Lily was alone with a heartfelt communiqué and her foolishly brave Gryffindor heart.
Lily drew a shawl about her shoulders as she rested her feet near the flickering fire, reading the first words from her old friend she had seen for years.
"Dear Lily,
I would not be at all surprised if you tear this letter up the moment you realise it is from me, but I beg you not to do that. I need to tell somebody. I have no trust in Dumbledore for a variety of reasons but you... you I have, and always will, trust with my whole heart.
It is my whole heart I am pouring out to you now Lily.
Firstly, let me say that you were right. Rosier has been murdered for failing the Lord. He was the first of our year to be Marked. I am holding out for as long as I can, but I don't want it, Lily. I do not want that brand on my arm any more. Please, Lily, please help me – I may not trust Dumbledore, but you do. Go to him please; show him this. He is the only one HE is not afraid of.
The things he is doing – I am not the only one who is holding on by a thread – Regulus Black and I are living in rooms in the Broomsticks as it is the closest to Hogwarts we can be without arousing suspicion.
Anyway, back to the point in hand – I am sorry Lily that this missive is incomprehensible, but I am shaking and nearly drunk – the only way I could gather the courage to write to you.
I do not need to describe all the horrors, but this I will say.
They found my mum. They dragged her into a centre of leering men, and they circled her like she was carrion, and they were vultures. HE forced me to watch – to show what would happen to Blood Traitors, winning my support by – oh, Merlin! She was weak enough due to Pa beating her so much, but to see her magically flogged and bleeding, to witness her ultimate humiliation...
The thugs stripped her bare, tied her up and... and... Oh, I cannot... (there was a splodge here where his tears seasoned the words! Lily's own eyes wished not to read further, but her morbid curiosity led her to follow the rest.)
Then they turned to me and the... and he HIMSELF turned around and smiled, as if he had paid me the greatest of honour, and I had to stand there stoically as he held a heavy hand on my shoulder, making me glare into his dark, fathomless sea green eyes. His cruel lips smirked as they wrapped steel words in silken voice. "Dear Severus," he said. "Now you are purged of your filth – your father has been killed, but you were to witness our great strength against Blood Traitors. Is there anyone else that deserves your revenge - for I am gracious and will hunt them for you and deliver them quaking at your feet?"
Despite all they had done to me – I could not find myself uttering their names. I hate them, but clearly not enough. Hell, you know I despise my father, but I am not made of stone. He was still my Pa, and he still had lucid moments where he was what he was when I was a small boy before we met.
I found him literally ripped to shreds in my filthy hovel. His intestines trailed around the room – blood everywhere. A Scourgify Maxima could not wipe clean the viscous fluids.
What do I do, Lily? If I do not join I will be labelled a blood traitor, and that could happen to me, to Reggie. He does not deserve this, Lily. I do. I admit it. He does not. He is more my younger brother than he ever was to Sirius – it was me he sought for protection. Me he asked advice from. It was I who explained the facts of life to him. He is still idealistic and naïve enough to believe that if we take the Mark, keep our heads down, do as we are told, all will be well.
You and I know that the truth is entirely different. Hell, Rosier was as loyal as they came, and yet he was found by your Aurors dumped in a sleazy alley in Muggle London. Put there by his so-called brethren.
If you cannot help me, please, help Reggie.
I honestly do not know what to do. My cauldron of ideas has a hole in the bottom – you are my only hope. I cannot seek audience with Dumbledore, but you can – YOU can.
If this has not yet convinced you – Finbar Avery held HIS ear and told him about our past friendship. He has found out how powerful you are. If you are not careful, you could be where I am now. Hiding as close to protection as you can.
I mean it Lily, my precious, beautiful Lily. I was truly apologetic that day. I hated what was happening, and I saw you smile as if you were joining in. Why did you do that Lily? (Lily frowned at this bit. She thought about that day and... oh Circe's knickers, she did smirk. No wonder he lashed out!)
The word Lily – the word has never been said by me ever since that fateful day. I cannot even believe it any more. Please, Lily, I am sorry I lied to you when we were children before Hogwarts. I am sorry I lashed out at you that day. I am truly and heartily sorry for not listening to you regarding the people I hung around with. I could have befriended Silvanos Greengrass, yet I hung back. I could have befriended Kingsley Shacklebolt in Ravenclaw, but I did not.
Please, I am weary for the world – I need an out. A protection. I need someone on my side, and you were the only person who ever was on my side. (Another large spot made the following paragraph indiscernible to read. Lily squinted. Yet from the following paragraph, she could only make bits of words; it read as followed:)
bledo... lp … e... nt... tte... fri... . nn... ve... re... ppe... g... . yo... de... ou... tifu... oo.. d... . t... ot.. f... glan... (After much working out with another scroll and quill, she found it read: Dumbledore, help me... Better friends... We're trapped... You hide. You're too beautiful to die. Get out of England!)
Lily, I beg you please.
Regulus and I have a pact. If we cannot think of a way out by Hallows Eve, we are going to... (she gasped, and the parchment fell from her grasp. She could not believe she was reading this – they should be filled with the joys of life, not this... She may have despised Rosier, but James was one of the Aurors who had found him, and he said it took him awhile to expunge his stomach contents. With shaking hands, she retrieved the letter to finish her friends plea.) … To … I do not need to say, do I? There is no other way out unless you beseech Dumbledore on our behalf.
Yours forever more
Severus"
Lily was a sobbing wreck once more. This brought the war so much closer to home. What could she do to save her friend? To rescue James' friend's younger brother? There had to be something she could do. She was shaking so much that she had to clutch onto surfaces to get to the en-suite bathroom. Once at the sink, she ran the cold tap and splashed her face and moaned with its stinging relief.
She would never have considered herself squeamish by any stretch of the imagination, but the detail in that letter – he did not hold back or protect her eyes; he wanted to paint her a picture of the horrors that were out there, horrors that could help them all. She looked at the mirror, and her eyes were red raw, cheeks puffed, hair sticking out in all angles. What could she do?
It was about now that Euphemia Potter walked in and saw the state Lily was in. Immediately, the older, more graceful witch flew to her side. Her chestnut braided locks, ready for the night's sleep ahead flew behind her. Chocolate eyes stared through Lily it seemed. Their cutting gaze causing the younger witch to squirm. Lily loved their cat-like quality but was disconcerted by their quality, their sharp intensity of perception in other people's hearts.
"My dear, what's wrong?"
"I am not sure I can tell you. It may conflict you and..."
"Nonsense, Lily. Come to bed and tell me what has got you in such a state."
So, Euphemia led Lily back into the bedroom and opened the covers gently helping Lily into the bed as she did so, tucking her in tight. Lily's hands were shaking uncontrollably. It was then that James' mother spotted the letter on the floor – with ease, she picked it up and handed it to the younger witch.
"Can I ask you a question?" Lily asked. All of a sudden, she felt young. "Please?"
"Of course, dear." Euphemia had originally come with the intention to ask the Muggleborn a question or two about her reasons for marrying her son, and relay her own doubts about the match. "I will answer within reason."
"You must have gone to school with the...HIM."
"Ah." Euphemia wiped a hand along her brow. "I more than went to school with him. I was his Head Girl, and we dated for a time."
"What?"
"He was not the Dark Lord then," the elegant witch said. "He was a charming, charismatic, intelligent, and handsome young man. Always poised, knew what to say, literally was as silver tongued as the snake on the house banner he belonged to. Thankfully, my own father refused his request to marry me. Some people were not as easily swayed by him as others – those people are still few and far between. Why, what is this about?"
Lily pointed at the rolled-up letter with the scroll of her notes to decipher the part of the letter too smudged to read. Euphemia took the scroll and carefully unrolled it, her keen eyes skimming through it. She kept composed even though her complexion paled considerably. When she read the notes and the letter again, Euphemia turned to the girl in the bed and sighed, passing a hand along her brow again. It was her nervous tick, Lily surmised, like hers was chewing on her nails.
"I am at a loss for words. Poor Eileen!"
"You knew Eileen?"
"I was friends with Eileen. She played a mean game of Gobstones, even as a girl. She was clever, powerful, intelligent – may have been a Slytherin, but she did not ever utter that word – in fact, I believe she was friends with quite a few Muggleborns. She was one of the few not caught up in Riddles rhetoric."
This was new information. Lily sighed as she looked at Mrs Potter.
"Do you have a picture of him as a youth?"
"You were part of the Slug Club, yes?"
Lily nodded: "Yes, madam."
"Well, you would have seen him – rather tall, dark haired, well-groomed and eyes that look right into you." Mrs Potter shuddered. "He always stood next to a young Abraxas Malfoy. Head Bo..."
"I have seen it," Lily groaned. "I cannot believe I used to find him attractive."
"I can attest you were not the only one. He has grown in power and presence since then. I wish he'd used his talents wisely, but you know what they say about power!"
"Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them?"
"No, dear. Power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely!"
"Oh, that one," she mumbled. "Madam, may I have some Dreamless Sleep? Please tell James I wish to be alone tonight."
"Of course," Euphemia replied with a soft smile. "You know, Lily, one day something will happen to him. Some wizard greater than he will rise and defeat him. No matter how terrible the night, there is always daylight and a new dawn ahead."
"I know," Lily said, "but I am confused, and I want to help Sev and Reg."
"You care for Eileen's son, do you not?" Lily's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, do not fret, dear. I am as aware of my son's faults as I am of my own. I realise my son did not comport himself wisely around school and rather used his name and popularity for ill as well as good. I can imagine he did not like it when you stood up for a Slytherin."
"No, he did not."
"Too much of Fleamont," his mother shook her head. "Alas, I had not a daughter like me."
Lily smiled a little. "Was Riddle open for... um..."
"Carnality is a rule he lives by, I fear," she said. "Why, what are you planning?"
"Nothing," Lily lied.
She was thinking of something. Something that would rock the boat considerably. Something so monumentally stubborn and foolish that she could almost hear Severus groan in resigned defeat.
No, she firmly resolved in her mind to carry out her plan in its entirety. No matter how scared, nervous, wrong, and immoral it was. If HE wanted her, she would acquiesce, but not without a bargain struck and oath sought.
Minutes later, an Elf popped in and handed Lily a goblet of freshly made Dreamless Sleep potion.
All her worries carried away in the single draft of potion.
It was a pity, though, that when she woke up she had a pounding headache, and all events of the previous night flooded her mind so that, when she blinked, she caught flashes of Severus letter and the graphic descriptions conveyed therein. Not to mention Euphemia's revelation that HE desired marriage to her, that James could not have been born – where would that have left Sirius? Remus? Peter? Her?
This left Lily more perplexed over the issue than before. Where exactly was she herself?
Sev, you done it again, she sighed. You've drawn me into your world, or is it more the fact that I want to be enticed by something more exciting than a marriage? That I wish to be pulled back in by you?
If only he had not blasphemed against her kind in the first place, this choice would not even be a possibility. One thing was certain; she had to talk to Severus!
With her mind made up, she wrote a letter and asked for an Elf to give it to an owl.
"Now, we wait and see," she sighed. "Sev, the quaffle is in your hoop now."
AN: This story is complete and one episode a day shall be uploaded. Also cross referenced at AO3.