A/N: JK Rowling owns the HP world, not me. Chapter 10 rated M for language and drug use.
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His eyes were on the stage, on the twenty-year-old in a corset and frothy, tutu-inspired skirt: the impossibly-thin girl wearing four-inch heels and fake eyelashes, belting out the lyrics to a ska-punk version of "Gimme Shelter".
It was her. It was Aurora.
Severus milled with the crowd. He had worn black trousers, a black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket, and he did not seem to stand out too much from the other patrons of the club. He kept to the shadows and sipped a lager. Beer, he corrected himself. Here in America they call it 'beer'.
The sax-and-horn section backed off, and the bass guitar was left thumping out a dark, industrial beat. Soon the lead guitarist joined in.
"There's a little black spot on the sun today," Aurora began. "It's the same old thing as yesterday."
The crowd was waving its arms in the air. Many of them were singing along. Some adventurous men in front of the stage were trying to slam-dance to a Sting song.
I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles, running 'round my brain.
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign,
but it's my destiny to be the king of pain.
The band kept up the beat as Aurora leaned into the mike and purred, "Ladies, here's some advice. You think you want that lanky cat over there, with the long black hair and the long black clothes. He knows things that he shouldn't. Sometimes you even think he can read minds. 'King of pain,' yeah." She chuckled. "Oh, and he scares the good boys, doesn't he, girls? But who doesn't love tall, dark, and mysterious, right?"
Several drunken women cheered vociferously from the crowd.
"Well, here's the advice, chicas: LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE!" Laughter erupted as she screamed the last words. "There's a little black spot on the sun today," Aurora called, and her band gave the response: "That's my soul up there."
*****
"Oi, love, it's one o' your mates from Jolly Olde England," the drummer called in an accent he must have stolen from a Sex Pistols album.
Snape had followed them from the club to this shotgun shack. Now he stood in a cramped and dingy room staring down at her as she sat on the bed.
"Well, Professor, what a surprise!" Aurora said breezily. "What are you doing on this side of the pond?" The drummer appeared curious, but Snape closed the bedroom door in his face. Aurora tilted her head back slightly and cocked an eye at Snape. He knew the look well. She was not going to give him an inch.
You always were stubborn as an ass, Snape thought. He leaned against the wall. "Dumbledore and I wanted to see how you were doing."
"And where is Uncle Albus?" Aurora picked up a square of glass and dumped a small packet of white powder onto it. She used a razor blade to corral it into lines. Her actions were gentle, loving even.
"I told him to stay back at Hogwarts. I had a feeling that we might find..." He indicated the cocaine with his eyebrows.
Aurora's laugh was brittle. "Sev, you don't even know what this shit is, and I'm damn sure that Albus doesn't." Snape said nothing as she used a roll of paper to snort a line into her right nostril. She leaned her head back, eyes watering.
Severus cast his eyes around the room. He took in the drug paraphernalia, the bottles of booze, the record player, the tousled bedclothes, the scarf thrown over the lamp. "So how are you?"
"At the moment?" She sniffled. "Fucking brilliant!'
Snape bit down on the inside of his cheek. "This was a mistake," he muttered, turning to the door.
Her shrill laughter trailed him out of the ramshackle house.
****
A/N: "Gimme Shelter" was written and performed by the Rolling Stones. "King of Pain" is, of course, by Sting.