Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else you recognize, and I'm making no profit from my fanfic.
Author's Note: I'm working on Broken Wings, I am. But this came to me and I couldn't stop it. I just had to roll with it! I hope you enjoy it. It'll be a little story. Maybe two or three chapters. Maybe more. I'm still shocked at how this flowed out of me. Next chapter is almost done and will be posted soon! Hopefully in conjunction with the next chapter on Broken Wings, lol.
Before entering the grand ballroom of Malfoy Manor, Severus tied the black half-mask around his head, scowling at the idiocy he felt in donning it. Half of the time he wasn't sure why he even entertained Lucius' grand schemes. Lucius Malfoy had been trying ever so determinedly throughout the years to win back the respect and admiration of Wizarding Britain. His latest attempt was a masquerade, held in the honor his son, who had just completed his Divination studies abroad at a wizarding university in Sweden. He did seem to be genuinely proud of Draco, but he also salivated at the idea of being able to host Ministry officials and others whose favor he sought to gain. It wasn't so far-fetched, Severus had to admit. The Ministry big wigs did so enjoy any excuse to have a party.
In truth, a masquerade might not be all bad. His black suit and cravat were a simple affair, as was his black mask; not following the baroque patterns he noticed everyone else seemed to have. He had never been someone to put on airs. Although it was still quite plainly Severus Snape under the mask, he felt a degree of security in wearing it. Perhaps fewer people would clamor over him, making him into something he was not - a supposed "war hero." The title never sat well with him. Perhaps he could support Lucius and still live as an introvert for the evening.
Nodding at the door greeter, he strode into the ballroom, searching the area for the platinum blonde hair of Lucius, figuring his old friend was the place to start. He had no intention of going up to anyone else and starting a discussion. He wasn't keen to socialize.
His gaze flicked over a group to the side of the dance floor, and then he did a double take. An exceptionally exquisite witch had caught his eye; in fact, she had seized his full attention.
It was as if she were a beacon drawing him in, and he drank his fill of her. An intricate bronze mask solidly covered the top half of her face, but curled up in wisps to the sides, giving it an almost Fae-like appearance. She stood next to a tall, wide man, listening to him converse with a trio of wizards in front of them, a glass of red wine in her hands. There was a hint of a smile tipping the corners of her mouth, as if she were vastly amused by what was being said; as if she were so far above the conversation that she wouldn't deign to add to it. The way her full, wine-colored lips twitched sent a flicker of heat through him, and that heat only built stronger as he continued to examine her. A low-cut, forest-green velvet gown hugged her curves, displaying the smooth skin of her long legs, falling a couple of inches above her thigh. His hands itched to grab hold of her lush derriere encased in the luxuriant fabric. Her coffee-colored curls were gathered smoothly and skillfully into an elegant twist, displaying a long, graceful neck. As she turned toward the man next to her and said something quietly, he feasted upon the sight of the sun-kissed skin of her back, the backless dress showcasing the hollows of her shoulder blades to perfection.
She was quite the spectacle. He wasn't the only one following the sway of her hips as she moved toward the bar to refill her glass. His gaze lingered on her hungrily, and he knew in that moment that by the end of the masquerade, he would be leaving with that witch.
A hand suddenly clasped his shoulder.
"Severus," Lucius murmured, and shook his hand. "I'm glad you're here. I want to be seen speaking with the Minister, and I know Shacklebolt thinks highly of you."
He reluctantly tore his gaze from the masked witch and regarded Lucius with a frown. "I'm hurt, Lucius. You would use me?" His words were mocking, poking fun at the fact that a man who had once been at the top was now reduced to using Severus as a way to gain favor among the elite.
"Why else would I invite you?" Lucius jeered.
He led Severus to a group of wizards discussing the Dark Arts, not missing the opportunity to simper on about how dangerous they were and how he had learned the hard way. His tone was so convincingly contrite that even Severus was impressed.
Lucius continued to lead him from group to group, to one official after the next, calling out their names jovially.
"I believe the point of a masked ball is to keep an air of mystery about you," he taunted to Lucius. "May we just approach Kingsley directly, instead of this farce of you working your way to the top?"
He was ignored as they came to stand in front of yet another group of people he could only assume were employed by the Ministry, if the tone of Lucius' voice was any indication.
Severus realized then that they were before the tall man who had stood next to the mouthwateringly beautiful witch he had been eyeing. He wondered where she was. Was this man her date? Her lover? Severus raised a brow. He didn't much care what the man was to her. That witch would be his by the end of the night.
As if his thoughts had summoned her, an enticing succubus haunting his consciousness, she approached and settled at the man's side, her small hand twining into the crook of his arm. She gazed up at Lucius with an unimpressed slant of her head, and then her eyes flicked to Severus.
From across the room, he hadn't been able to see her eyes clearly. If he'd thought her lips were appealing, they were no match for her eyes. Two deep pools of cinnamon stared up at him with unmistakable interest, and damned if his breath didn't catch in his throat.
"And you are?" Lucius purred from beside him, clearly beheld by her spell. Severus could feel his ire rise.
"Famished," she replied cheekily. She tilted her head up at the tall wizard beside her. "Can I bring you anything from the refreshments table?" Her eyes glanced to Lucius. "Mr. Malfoy has provided quite the spread."
The man patted her hand and shook his head. "No thank you, my dear. I haven't been asked to dance quite as much as you." An indulgent smile crossed his face.
She smiled back up at him, and Severus felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. If she became any more beautiful, he wasn't sure how he would be able to handle it.
She excused herself and turned, all three men watching her depart in silence.
Not content to be jerked around by Lucius any longer, when he could instead be pursuing her, Severus also excused himself and took long strides to catch up with her.
He met her at the table to the side of the ballroom, splayed with various scrumptious dishes, watching as she debated which item she would choose.
Gathering his gumption - for Severus Snape was not usually an agent of seduction - he stepped close to her and murmured, "I daresay you look more delectable than any of this."
He noticed her body tense briefly, then relax as a smile formed. "How very bold of you," she replied, glancing up at him over her shoulder. Something about her was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He surely had never laid eyes on a witch such as she.
"Do I know you?" he asked of her, his brow arching. She looked away from him, focusing again on the food in front of her.
"I doubt it," she said softly, and something about her voice compelled him.
"Do you work at the Ministry?" he inquired, inching closer to her, unable to help himself.
Suddenly, she twirled to face him, her body caught between his and the table. She regarded him with a curious expression, before murmuring, "Are you going to ask me to dance, or are we to spend the evening exchanging pleasantries?"
A wolfish grin broke out on his face. She was a saucy little thing. He offered her his hand, not saying a word since she had already guessed his intention, and she took it without hesitation. Electricity shot up his arm at her touch, and he could tell she was breathless. Thank Merlin, something about him had drawn her in.
They took to the floor, and he immediately stepped close to her, their bodies less than inch from each other. Her hand curled around his shoulder, and he nearly groaned at the feel of her soft skin exposed by her plunging dress as his hand rested on her lower back. It was as if their bodies fit perfectly together, moulding against one another as though they were two pieces of a puzzle. His chin brushed her forehead as he led them in a lazy sway around the floor.
She's mine, Severus thought to himself, a self-satisfied smirk upon his lips.
"I seem to be the object of much jealousy," he informed her, darkly amused as other wizards watched them dance with envy apparent on their faces, even with their masks covering them.
He felt a shiver ripple through her. Ah, his voice. He'd been made well aware of the effect his voice could have on a woman, though it was beyond him. He'd oft used the deeper tones to intimidate, but upon the realization that this woman in particular seemed to be especially affected by it, he used it to his advantage.
"I cannot blame them," he told her, caressing the words slowly. "You are a vision. I noticed you the moment I entered the room, and I, too, felt jealousy toward the man beside you."
Her head tilted back so that she could meet his gaze, and stared at him intently in silence for endless moments, assessing the validity of his words.
"Nothing to feel jealous over," she told him softly, belying her fiery gaze. "I am a free woman."
"Not for long," he practically growled, his satisfaction paramount when her eyelashes fluttered and her little pink tongue snuck out to wet her lips. He pressed her indiscernibly closer, his burgeoning erection evident, he knew, for her beautiful eyes widened and a small gasp left her throat.
Severus lowered his dark head, holding her tightly to him. "Come with me," he breathed against her ear, lips brushing her cheek.
At her barely noticeable nod, he halted their dance and turned to pull her toward the back of the ballroom. He knew Malfoy Manor well, and he knew exactly where he could take her for a bit of privacy.
She allowed Severus to pull her outside to a beautifully ornate balcony, where draping ivy fell over the marble railing. He didn't give her much time to survey the area, however. He felt impatient to press his lips to every inch of her, to worship her as a goddess should be worshipped. He pressed her against the stone wall and took fierce possession of her pouty mouth, pleased as he heard a moan escape her. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed him back in returned fervor, melding her body to his as if she just couldn't get close enough to him.
He thoroughly plundered her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers ardently as his hands slid down over her waist to clutch her arse. He wanted to be inside her. Merlin, did he want this woman in his bed.
There was only one problem: His nose was irritated incessantly by her blasted mask. He unwillingly tore his mouth away from her, lifting his hands to remove the bronze piece from her face.
"No!" she protested, her hands wrapping around his wrists and pulling them down. "We mustn't." She cleared her throat, licking her swollen lips as she panted softly. "It's a masquerade, remember?"
He inclined his head, a puzzled look on his face. "Who gives a fuck about the mask, woman? I want to know every inch of you." He started toward her again, but at the panicked look in her eyes, he halted. He felt impatient, yes, and a mite perturbed - but something about her brooked gentleness in him, a tenderness he hadn't known he was capable of. "I'll go first, if that will put you at ease." He reached up and untied his own mask, pulling it from his face, giving her a wry smile. "Is that better?"
Her eyes burned with an emotion he could not name. She reached out and touched his cheekbone, caressing him softly with a sad smile.
Then, before he could blink, she turned and rushed through the glass doors, mingling with the crowd of the ballroom.
A roar escaped him as he attempted to pursue her, but a lively dance had overwhelmed the dance floor so that couples were spilling onto the sides. He couldn't even spot the green velvet of her dress.
"Ah, Severus!" Lucius called, and made his way over to him. Oblivious to Severus' fury, he raised his glass in greeting. "Enjoying yourself?"
Severus ground his teeth together in an attempt to hold back his anger. Where had she gone? And why had she fled from him, with no explanation whatsoever? She'd wanted him, nearly as much as he had wanted her.
"Come, help me find Draco. I just made the acquaintance of a pureblood girl in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They'd make a splendid couple, her hair is the color of Narcissa's…"
Lucius blathered on, guiding a still-fuming Severus around the room as he had before, eager to be seen with the wizard Harry Potter had testified years ago to the Wizengamot as the "bravest man he ever knew."
As Lucius scanned the crowd, Severus' eyes stayed on the double doors of the ballroom, narrowed in wrath. He had wanted to leave with her, not watch her slip out of his hands like a whisper of silk. He should have Apparated them away, instead of taking her to the balcony. He'd been inexplicably caught up in the romance of this infernal masquerade.
"Draco's walking out with Harry Potter," Severus muttered to Lucius, whose gaze followed to where Severus was looking.
"What are they doing? Surely Draco doesn't mean to leave his own ball!" Lucius started forward, but stopped short. "No…" he trailed off in disbelief. "No!" he roared. He surged toward them, very much resembling the man he had been during his Death Eater days.
Severus followed, seeing that Lucius had caught the two young men in an amorous embrace. It's about time, he thought drolly. The way those two verbally sparred was some of the most bizarre sexual tension Severus had ever witnessed.
Lucius was outraged, of course, and he was lucky he hadn't made a scene as of yet. Casting a wordless Muffliato toward them all to prevent a commotion, he passed by them into the foyer. He was disappointed however, as the elusive witch was nowhere to be seen.
Blast it all to hell. He shook his head in frustration. He was going to find that witch, and he was going to make her his.