Author's Note: I hope everyone enjoyed their holiday celebrations. The next post will be sometime after the New Year. Enjoy! ~Lady Galadriel

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For most of the day, Selene remained in the dungeons working. Yet her mind was distracted; several times she found herself holding a container of ingredients and couldn't remember what she intended to do with them. Even worse, at one point she nearly added Doxy venom instead of belladonna, which would have resulted in quite an explosion. After that, she tried to keep her thoughts in order and pay attention.

Several hours passed before she heard the door open at the top of the stairs, followed moments later by Snape's entrance into the dungeon. He brought with him the book that Selene had given him earlier and set it on the table. He then began to rummage through his stores, occasionally placing a container or jar beside the book. All the while, he never spoke a word to her.

Selene bit her lip, unsure of what to say or do. At last she knew and understood her own feelings, but did he feel the same way as she did? The way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, the way he saved and defended her from the Carrows—what other explanation was there if he didn't love her?

At last, she gathered the courage and stepped forward towards him. She cleared her throat and began hesitantly, "Professor—"

"Yes, Miss Blackwood?" he interrupted impatiently.

His tone bolstered her courage; she hated when he spoke to her like that and she was quite sure he was aware of it, too. "Professor," she repeated, her voice more calm and confident, "I would like to ask about the conversation I overheard between you and the Carrows."

Snape continued his search through the cabinet, still refusing to look at her. "What of it, Miss Blackwood?"

Annoyed, Selene walked over to him and shut the cabinet doors before he had another chance to reach in. Snape turned to face her, his eyebrow raised in surprise. She held his gaze, her silver-blue eyes locked onto his.

"I want to know…" she said quietly, then paused. "Do you have feelings for me?"

Snape's mouth twitched. "I assure you, Miss Blackwood," he replied, his tone slightly patronizing, "that my 'feelings,' as you put it, extend only as far as regarding you as a colleague." He then moved past her to the table where he'd set everything down.

No. As much as he hid his true self, as much as he feigned indifference, she saw the betraying look in his eyes. She grabbed his arm and pulled him so that they faced each other again.

"You're a liar," she accused softly.

Selene's words stuck in his mind; he could barely stand the gaze of her radiant, penetrating eyes. Yet he maintained his composure all the same. "Am I?" he responded, his jaw firmly set. He could not let her see, she could not know anything.

She stared into his face for another moment before she let go of his arm. Her expression was indescribably beautiful, despite the fact that it was filled with surprise and hurt.

Although it pained him, Snape continued, adding fierce venom to his words: "If you're quite done with your games now, Miss Blackwood, I have work to do," making the emphasis as a final deterrent.

Selene backed away and returned to her table. She fought the unwelcome tears that stung in her eyes; she refused to let even one fall in his presence. She took a deep breath and attempted to continue her work. Several moments passed before she said, "I'm sorry for my incorrect assumption. I suppose it was foolish of me to think that you could have any more 'feelings' for me than you would for one of your blundering students."

A sudden crash startled her and she looked over to Snape. He stood, leaning forward against the table, the debris of a container of something all over the floor. She couldn't help but stare, shocked.

He turned to her, his black eyes glittering dangerously. He began to walk towards her, each step deliberate, and she couldn't help but back herself against the table, slightly frightened.

"Do you want to know how I feel for you—my true feelings?" he asked in a low, deadly voice. Before Selene could answer, Snape swiftly leaned down and pressed his lips hard against hers. For a moment she couldn't respond, couldn't even register in her mind what was happening. Then, as soon as she began to return his kiss, he pulled away.

"Forgive me," he said roughly. "I should not have done that."

Before he could turn away, however, Selene grabbed him and pulled him into an embrace, returning his kiss. They stood there for moments, hours, days it seemed, kissing fervently. Finally, breathless, their lips parted.

They remained silent for a while in each other's arms, their foreheads touching. Eventually, Snape spoke, his voice throaty:

"Your badgering, by the way, has cost me three ounces of crushed dragon scales, which runs at about twenty Galleons an ounce."

"Eighteen," Selene corrected, "and what you can't salvage I'll gladly repay you." She then pressed her lips to his once more. This time their kisses were calmer, though with just as much passion as before. He ran his hands along the length of her back, sending tingling sensations along her spine, while she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close.

After a while, they were merely content to hold one another. Snape lightly ran his fingers through Selene's dark hair, which had fallen loose from its plait. The light scent of jasmine floated throughout the air. She could not help but lean against him, her eyes closed, and sigh in contentment.

"The Dark Lord is expecting us soon," Snape murmured. "The Carrows have complained to him about what happened last night and he wishes to speak with you."

Selene turned to look up at Snape. She knew they both shared the same worry. "If he tries Legilimency, I can hold my own against him," she replied.

"Don't underestimate him, Selene," Snape warned. "If he truly means to interrogate you, I fear you will not be able to defend yourself against him."

"I just won't give him a reason to interrogate me, then," she said. "He has no cause to doubt my loyalty up until this point."

Snape nodded but he was by no means reassured. He knew the methods of the Dark Lord too well and he feared for her. She'd suffered enough already.

"Do you love me?" she asked suddenly.

Her question stunned and shook him to his core; he couldn't even begin to form a response in his mind. He gazed into her luminous eyes and tenderly pushed a strand of her hair away from her face.

"I'm not even sure I have the capacity to love," he whispered. "I'm a wretched man, Selene, and undeserving of the tenderness and love you offer. I couldn't even promise you that I would be able to return such love. I have done terrible things that I cannot possibly be absolved of, even if I manage to survive this war." He paused for a moment, then asked, "Do you really want to sacrifice yourself for a doomed man?"

"There is no greater sacrifice I'd rather make than to love you," she said. "My choice is not based on some naive altruistic notion, but simply based on the fact that I love you. Even if you are a doomed man, you are a good one, whether you admit it or not, and are worthy of love."

Snape had never heard such words spoken to him before. The only person who had ever shown him any measure of respect and care had been Dumbledore, and he'd been forced to kill him. Now, for some unfathomable reason, this young woman he held in his arms loved him, cared for him, and was willing to give her love freely, even if he was condemned to death.

He kissed her again fiercely, no longer caring about anything else in the world.

***

The afternoon sun was waning as Snape and Selene walked along the snow-covered path to the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The air was silent except for the crunching snow beneath their feet. Selene wrapped her cloak tightly around her against the cold.

They stopped by a group of young trees. Before they Disapparated, however, Snape touched Selene's arm. She turned to him, and he drew her close and kissed her long and passionately. When they parted, Snape whispered, "I do love you, Selene. Whatever happens, know that."

She nodded and grasped his hand for reassurance. Then, with a "pop," they Apparated to Malfoy Manor.

The Manor grounds there were lightly covered in snow, though not as much as the Hogwarts grounds. In the failing light, the Manor was black and foreboding, a sharp contrast to the sparkling white snow.

They entered the Manor and were directed to the drawing room. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy sat at the table, along with Bellatrix Lestrange and the Carrows. Lord Voldemort, however, stood at the head of the table, his back towards them. When he heard their entrance, he turned and faced them, his red, snakelike eyes glaring brightly.

"Miss Blackwood," the Dark Lord said, his voice icy. "Come here."

Snape noted that Bellatrix's gaze followed Selene hungrily as she approached the Dark Lord. He was suddenly filled with apprehension, but he remained as calm as ever.

Selene faced the Dark Lord, her eyes averted humbly, yet she maintained a confident composure. Voldemort looked down upon her, his expression unreadable.

"Miss Blackwood," he began, "I understand you had a bit of an altercation with the Carrows last night."

"I did, my Lord," Selene replied evenly.

"You attacked them while they were interrogating a student," he accused in a deadly voice.

"If I may be so bold as to correct you, my Lord, I merely disarmed Amycus Carrow," she defended. "They were torturing a first-year student out in the open hallway. It was then that Alecto Carrow attacked me."

The Dark Lord lifted Selene's face with a long finger so that he could look into her eyes. He gazed at her intensely, his eyes scrutinizing her. Snape could tell, even from a distance, that he was using Legilimency on her.

After a few moments, Voldemort turned to Snape. "Were there any justifications for the Carrows' actions, Severus?" he asked in a cool tone. "Was the student indeed a member of this 'Dumbledore's Army' or have any information regarding it?"

"No, my Lord," Snape answered smoothly. "I questioned the student myself using Veritaserum. If there had been any legitimate reason for this, my Lord, I would have made sure to settle the matter myself. However, the fact that the Carrows conducted this in the open can potentially put us into jeopardy—"

Voldemort raised his hand to silence him. "You don't have to tell me the possible repercussions of this matter, Severus. I am well aware that the Carrows acted foolishly and I will deal with that as well. However," he added with a leering grin, "it is quite obvious that you are not incensed by this simply because of the possible 'jeopardy' the Carrows put us in."

Bellatrix snickered wickedly.

Voldemort turned back to Selene, his eyes piercing. "As for you, Miss Blackwood," he continued, "I did not expect such…compassion from you on behalf of the half-blood filth fouling the halls of Hogwarts. I will not tolerate any conflicts amongst my followers regarding my orders and how they are to be carried out. You have your own task that I charged you with. I suggest that you keep to that instead of meddling in other affairs." He turned back to the fireplace and waved his hand in dismissal.

Selene began to walk away, inwardly sighing in immense relief. She had only taken a few steps, however, before the Dark Lord stopped her again.

"Before you go, Miss Blackwood…perhaps you need a little reminder of how futile your compassion is for Muggles."

At that moment, Bellatrix stood from the table, her eyes gleaming maliciously. She raised her wand at Selene and screeched with pleasure, "Territo!"

Selene barely uttered a cry before the curse hit her. At once her vision grew blurred and dark, and she was overwhelmed with terror. It was him again—he was on top of her, brutalizing her, strangling her with his bare, coarse hands. She was screaming and weeping, unable to stop him, unable to defend herself. She couldn't breathe. She thought she would die; she wished for death.

Snape watched in horror as Bellatrix cackled with sick delight, barely able to hide his revulsion as she tormented the woman he loved. Selene was shrieking in agony and convulsing on the floor of the drawing room. Voldemort, meanwhile, observed the scene, his lips twisted into a grin.

It didn't end. The torture seemed to last for ages. Yet for a brief moment, Selene saw out of the corner of her eye the distorted form of Bellatrix and heard her laughter. Desperately, she reached for her wand.

Only Snape seemed to notice Selene's movements. He saw her fingers clutch her wand as she rolled onto all fours. He saw her look up at Bellatrix, her eyes flaring in white-hot anger.

"Crucio!" Selene screamed at Bellatrix.

Immediately, Bellatrix's laughter was replaced with painful screeching. In a role reversal, she fell to the floor while Selene gradually stumbled to her feet, her wand still aimed at Bellatrix. Snape couldn't help but stare in shock as the intense fury radiated from Selene's body, manifesting itself in Bellatrix's torment. She was no longer ice but white-hot fire.

Bellatrix's suffering lasted just as long as Selene's before Voldemort stopped her, laughing and applauding. Selene's concentration was broken and the curse ended. Bellatrix remained on the floor, now unconscious.

"Well done, Miss Blackwood," the Dark Lord congratulated in approval. "I believe you've learned your lesson." He caught Snape's gaze then. "I expect you won't forget it."

Selene was still shaking, her mind reeling. She barely noticed when Snape took hold of her arm and guided her out of the drawing room, then out of the Manor into the cold winter air. She wasn't even aware of Snape Side-Along Apparating her into Hogsmeade until she realized she couldn't take another step.

"Selene—" Snape began.

A rush of horror and disgust overcame her and she collapsed to her knees into the snow, retching. She stayed there, gasping for breath, feeling the bitter cold of the snow bite into her bare skin. She felt Snape kneel beside her but put her hand out to stop him.

"Please," she begged hoarsely. "Don't touch me."

Some time passed and still Selene couldn't bring herself to move, even though her robes were soaked from the snow. It had quickly become dark and oppressively silent.

Finally, she managed to stammer, "I-I need to get to my bedroom." She couldn't push the images from her mind, no matter how hard she tried. They raced through her mind, overpowering her easily, making her weak and helpless.

Snape helped her up and held her close as they returned to the castle. It took nearly half an hour for them to get to Selene's room, given her weakened state, but thankfully they encountered no one on the way.

Selene managed to unlock the door and stumbled into her room. She instantly went to her trunk, opened it, and began to frantically search through it. Snape closed the door and monitored Selene's actions, wondering what she was doing. With trembling hands, she removed several jars from the trunk labeled "Moonstone," "Hellebore," "Wormwood," and "Valerian root." She began to measure the ingredients and mix them in a cauldron.

Snape grabbed her wrists before she could continue, knocking the jar from her hands. It fell to the floor, scattering crushed Valerian root everywhere.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" he demanded.

She stared at him, her eyes frightened and crazed. "I-I can't stop him," she whispered. "I can feel him, see him, hear him—he won't go away, he won't stop hurting me—" Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

"Selene," Snape said softly. "Whatever happened, he can't hurt you anymore. It's over now."

"You don't understand," she said, her voice full of agony. "He's always there, in my mind. I can't get rid of him, I've tried so hard to bury him away—" She broke down into sobs.

Snape stood there with Selene in his arms, infuriated with himself that he could not think of anything to help her. After a few moments, however, her sobs ceased and she broke away from him. She stooped to the floor and tried to clean up the Valerian root.

He stopped her. "Allow me," he told her quietly. He led her to the armchair and then proceeded to clean up the dried herb. Then, he scanned the contents of her trunk and began to make a Calming Draft.

Selene stayed in the armchair, her eyes staring vacantly into the fire. She barely moved, even when Snape handed her a mug of the Calming Draft, though she drank it obediently. Gradually, her breathing became more regular as the potion began to take effect and her eyes grew more clear and aware. Her expression, nonetheless, was still blank and emotionless.

"I passed the test, at least," she murmured. "He still doesn't know about us. He only saw my memory of last night."

Snape remained silent. The secrecy of his mission had always come at such a high price. It had already taken Dumbledore's life; would it also cost him the woman he loved?

"Selene," he said firmly, "I know from personal experience that the Dark Lord uses our own personal demons against us. I promise you that as long as you remain plagued by this terror, he will continue to exploit it." He knelt before her and looked into her eyes. "Whatever this is, you must overcome it."

A fresh stream of tears flowed down her cheeks. "You don't understand."

"Then help me understand."

She took a deep, rasping breath but didn't speak. "I was nine years old," she began finally, her voice barely audible. "I was playing in the woods by my parents' house in Germany. That's where he found me. He threw me into the bushes a-and…" Her voice trailed off. She couldn't continue, but Snape knew what she would say next.

Even in her youth she knew the weakness and brutality of Muggles

"I couldn't fight him. I was too small and he held me down," she continued. "As he finished he started to strangle me. I was choking, still trying to scream for help, when—I killed him. I don't know what happened. One moment I was dying, and the next there was a flash, and he was thrown off me, dead on the ground."

She now stared at the floor. "I was found an hour later, unconscious. My parents were horrified. They hushed everything up as best as they could so that no one would know that a pureblood witch was raped by a Muggle."

The tears flowed freely from Selene's eyes but she did not weep—no doubt an effect of the Calming Draft. She looked up at Snape and smiled weakly. He could think of nothing to say, no comfort to offer her. Instead, he pulled her gently into his arms and held her tightly.

Finally, she began to weep, releasing the fear that had terrorized her for so long, until there was nothing left.

***

After a while, Selene fell asleep in her bed. Snape stayed with her for about an hour longer, unable to leave until he was sure she was all right. Even though she tossed and turned, as if troubled by her dreams, she still slept deeply.

He quietly left her room and headed to his office, deep in thought. The sight of Bellatrix torturing Selene burned in his mind; her screams still rang in his ears. He was certain that the Carrows had told the Dark Lord about the Terror Curse; he was also certain that the "lesson" had not been only for Selene, but for him as well. The Dark Lord knew Snape was in love with her.

Snape entered his office and collapsed in the armchair. Though it was late, he knew he would not be able to sleep. For the first time in his life, he was unsure of what to do. He still had to maintain the façade of his allegiance to Voldemort and complete the "severing" potion. He also had to help Potter, as much as he detested it. Yet how could he, when the woman he loved was suffering?

He realized then how much he had changed, how much he was still changing, on account of Selene. He was certainly not the same man he was just several months ago. She had inspired within him a part of himself that he long thought dead: the capacity to love. He cared for her beyond all reason; she complicated every calculation that he had made and threw his mind into chaos. Up until this point, he'd played the game with detached proficiency, weighed every risk, thrown away lives without a second thought.

Now he paused with the slightest hesitation. He could not move forward without considering Selene's position in the game and how she would be affected by his actions. Previously, he would have resented such a burden, yet now he welcomed having someone by his side, someone to fight for and to fight alongside. He'd never experienced such tenderness for another person before, nor had he ever received the compassion and kindness she showed him.

He ran his hand through his hair, an uncharacteristic gesture. He was growing more exacerbated by such helplessness, such torpor. Not only was he unable to heal any of Selene's mental wounds, but he was unable to proceed in his mission until he was certain that she was whole again.

But she can never be whole again, Snape realized. Selene had been brutalized as a child, and since then she had used an almost deadly concoction to keep herself from remembering and dealing with the pain of that memory. She was damaged and nearly broken; many would have long ago given up their lives rather than gather the strength to continue. Yet even now she still struggled, and though he agonized over it, he was fairly sure that she would not give up. She demonstrated a strength that far exceeded his comprehension, and he admired her even more for it.

And he would do his best to help her.