Chapter 11

It was too damn bright when I felt like I was waking up from a long and troubled slumber. I didn't dare opening my eyes and couldn't control the scream. My neck. It felt like it was wrapped in a scarf of fire, tight and unyielding. I reached up to try and take it off, but there was nothing there. That was when the other pain reached me. My forearm. I screamed louder. Someone was marking it with white hot iron; I could almost smell the smell of burning flesh. I couldn't breathe with the pain. I had suffered from cruciatus before, and at that moment it was hard to imagine which pain was worse. Distantly, I heard voices and hands touching me, and I just wanted them to stop so I could scream to oblivion. It actually happened somehow. Everything went dark and the pain was gone.

When I woke up again, finally opening my eyes, the pain in the neck was gone, but I felt so weak, as weak as I have never felt in m entire life, no forces to raise up my arm and touch the neck again. The forearm was still burning, just slightly less than before, but I had no energy to scream anymore. I needed water, I needed the loo, and I needed the pain to go away. But more than any of that, I needed to know what was happening. Shouldn't I be dead? The Dark Lord had sliced my neck open himself, and then fed me to Nagini. The venomous bloody snake had attacked me. Nobody survived that, why was I alive?

I was very still, question if I was really alive. Maybe the pain was some kind of punishment for everything I had done. If I had forces, I'd have laughed then. Just a pain in the forearm was not enough punishment for my deeds. So I must really be alive.

Slowly some thing started to come back to me. The Shrieking Shack, the snake, Potter and the memories I gave him, convinced those were the last seconds of my life, the darkness… Opening my eyes again, the pain, having only enough energy to reach into a pocket and drink from a vial of potion. I had carried that vial for a long time now. Dumbledore had told me Nagini was the key, and as a last act of self-preservation, I brewed the most powerful anti-venom ever known. It saved my life. The action was quick, I could see and breath normally again, and the loud noises of a battle going on at the distance were clear now. They were still fighting. The Dark Lord thought me dead. I had to go.

On the long way through the tunnel that joined the Shack and Hogwarts, I felt determined and that helped with my energy. Getting closer, I was almost able to run. I was still bleeding, I know now that I didn`t pay attention to it as I wanted to be there. I had been part of that damned war for so long now, I wouldn't miss the end. I could die, I didn't care, but I had to be there.

When I left the tunnel the battle was on full force. There were witches and wizards from both sided attacking and defending, giants and trolls, dementors and inferi. I knew the risk, I was a Death Eater, and if anyone from the other side spotted me, I'd get killed in a second. The energy it took me to disillusion myself almost drained me, but still I stood. I joined the battle, attacking my former Death Eater colleagues, who fell not ever knowing where the curse came from. Closer to the castle now, I say Remus Lupin fighting a troll and taking it down. He got tired after that a lowered his guard. I saw Greyback approaching, taking the opportunity, and as he raised his wand I didn`t think, throwing myself forward and killing him. The disillusionment charm failed than and Lupin saw me. His eyes slid to the floor, though. Greyback had struck Tonks on his way, I hadn`t seen it, and she was now lying dead. Lupin looked at me again, confusion and anger in his eyes. I ran.

And that was the last thing I could remember. Waking up with the pain at my neck back and the burning arm. I was apparently in a hospital, but the huge wind was nearly empty. I could hear a painful moan in a distant corner, another patient, and the place was dim lighted and felt desolate and abandoned. Perhaps the war was over. Perhaps the Dark Lord had won.

I must have passed out again, the forearm on fire. It was day when I woke up again, but the wing was still empty. Now I dared looking at the burning spot on my skin. It was red, burned flesh, painful looking… But there was no skull and snake staring mockingly at me.

The Dark Mark was gone.

There was no time to feel overwhelmed at it, though. People loudly made an entrance and got to my bed, wands pointing and I started levitating in front of them outside the wind. They got me to a smaller, private room, comfortable and clean, private bathroom, flowers waiting at the nightstand. A healer applied a paste to my burn and the pain faded slowly, never really ending though. When everything went calm again, some other people entered the room.

It was the damned Potter boy. He was alive, and he smiled. By his side, obviously, Weasley and Granger followed, and they said they were glad I was alive and that I had done so much for them and for the war, and that I was one of the main responsible for the Dark Lord`s death.

So he was really dead. My head fell back on the pillows and a weird, so weird feeling flooded my chest. Relief? I don`t think I had ever felt that before. I was free. There was no Dumbledore, no Voldemort, hopefully never again a master to serve. I could serve my own now.

But I was still a criminal, wasn't I? As if he had heard me, Potter told me he had spoken for me, showed the memories just for who he had to in order to set me free, and when I left the hospital all I'd need to do was to speak once in front of the Wizengamot and walk away as a free man.

He had showed the memories. Did I prefer to go to Azkaban instead of having people seeing them, knowing about my past and feelings? Of course not. But it wasn't comfortable anyway, and I was not happy with potter just right now. If he thought he and I would become friends now that he knew everything, be was so terribly mistaken. I yelled and made them leave.

So, apparently now I owed Potter my freedom. Dammit. But I was free, nonetheless. I had never been free, had never felt free. What the hell was I supposed to do now?

After leaving the hospital – the burning feeling in my forearm fading a little everyday – the Wizengamot circus, the press and photos and being called a hero, I was able to be alone at home. Home. It meant Spinner's End, my family's house, the only one I had ever had besides of Hogwarts. I didn't know of it'd be worse there or at the castle, but I got used to it after a while. I changed it a bit, tear down the draped and let light in, made some cleaning I hadn't done in years. It was presentable now.

My energy was still weak. My magic was not the same and I felt tired if I tried too hard or too long to use it. The healers said it was normal, that it'd be back to normal after a while, and that for now I just needed some peace and quiet and a lot of rest.

The unsettledness faded away with the burning pain where the Dark Mark had been. I felt different; it was as if something else had vanished from my insides with the mark. I'd always known that the negative, dark, putrid energy it came with was inside me, but I had no idea that was exactly what made me feel angry, bitter and almost suicidal all the time. It was nearly gone now. The mark hadn't been just in my skin. It had been in my guts, in my core, in my heart, in my head. It dragged my down into the mud inch by inch, a mud of hate, dread, sadness. I had never been an easy person; my personality had always been mine. I never really liked people very much, preferring to be alone or… Well, when I was a kid, with her. The only one with whom I liked to spend time with, and talk, and who could make me laugh, was Lily Evans. Part of my personality came from my father, and I hated to admit that. The bloody drunken women-beater man, who finally got my mother killed and was too damned coward to face the consequences, and killed himself.

I had seen all of this, and then I came back to school and those evil Gryffindors had gotten me to the edge and I'd insulted Lily, and lost her as well. I lived every hours of every day for the last years since it happened regretting that, and a big part of that time dedicating my life to make things right again, revenge her death, protect her son.

How weird. Too strange now that I could think of those things – of course I could, I hadn't lost my memory – but I didn't feel anger of remorse or pain anymore. It was like it was over. I had finally done my job, revenged her, and Potter was alive.

I had no idea how to live now, but the feeling was not bad at all. I could choose.

And weirdly, I chose to stay at Spinner's End. I denied the post at Hogwarts, I'd never go back there if I could, and well, I could. I was my own man now. As my magic was a little better, but still not the same, I started to brew potions and sell to Hogwarts, and later to St. Mungo's. It was a lot of work but I liked it. No boss, no master, just enough money in the pocket.

Obviously things could not be that peaceful for a long time. That knock on my door changed everything once again. Lucius Malfoy, once again looking the fine, aristocratic proud bastard he had always been. His visit took me by surprise; I had been thinking he and his family was on the run, but they were actually in the very same powerful wealthy position as ever. The small talk before getting to the point was unnerving, but I coped with it. Finally he said why he was there.

Lazarus.

He had been contacted by his men, inviting him in, to create a new order to revenge Lord Voldemort's death and fulfill his purpose. Lucius described Lazarus and less powerful than Riddle, without the legilimency powers, but slightly more organized than and just as insane as him. Lucius had accepted to join them and dragged Draco and Narcissa as well, but had the intention, from the very beginning, to find me and tell everything. He confirmed I was part of the Order all along and said we had to tell them and do something about it. He's do just what I had done all those years. He would spy for the Light.

They had a hard time really believing them, of course. It took a lot of talk, and oaths and vows to make the Order trust the Malfoys. For now, Lazarus was still hiding his ideas, just gathering followers and making plans. Nobody knew about him and we had all the advantage. Times were still peaceful.

At least until Lucius came to a meeting with the news about Miss Granger's cousin. An unknown American muggle was in danger as she was to be used at bait for Lazarus to get to Potter. And, obviously, the Order couldn`t let it happen. The great heroes, the ones on the line again, would go and save the muggle and Potter, again.

Of course things couldn't be simple. They asked me, of all people, to go with Weasley and Granger to meet the American muggle and explain the situation, and to stay with her for part of the time making sure she was safe. I did question Minerva on why the hell they would send me, and she explained saying that as I was still not in my full magical force, I could help them with that, as it would not require too much trouble or power. Damn the moment I decided to stay in the Order.

New York was hot and dry and felt like hell. Miss Granger had found out that her cousin would be at Central Park working that day, and we had to figure out the exact point and wait for her to show up. I had to cast a cooling charm beneath my clothes as I didn't wish to pass out. Miss Granger started to jump like a five-year-old girl when she spotted her relative, pointing her. I told her off to meet her and stood by Weasley waiting.

I have to confess that what I saw was completely different from anything I had imagined. When they mentioned Miss Granger's cousin, all I could picture was a girl her age or younger, the same brown impossible hair a big teeth. She was nothing like that, though. The huge bushy hair was similar, but golden blonde. The way she dressed caught my attention immediately; she looked like a hippie from the 70's, long skirt, loose shirt, sandals, the impossible hair floating around her face. I was glad nobody was watching me at the moment, I must have looked like an idiot. So this Valerie Cooper was not a teenager and was not plain and, Gods, had the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.

When we were all inside her minuscule apartment, something else caught my attention. How fast had she understood everything, and how smart her blue eyes looked, even with the bad news and the desperation she felt knowing she'd have to leave everything she knew and had in order to stay alive. When Weasley and Granger left I remained there, alone with her. What was I supposed to do there? The place was as small as my storage room had been at Hogwarts, and she was a muggle. An American muggle. Could she be more different than me? People said Americans were very different from British and, hell, I had never in my life been good to deal with woman, any nationality. There had been Lily and that was it. My relation to this gender were restricted to the female professor at Hogwarts and the occasional paid shag when hormones took the best of me. So I did what I do best. Sat down and buried my face on a book and left her alone. And begged she would leave me alone.

The next day I found out I would have to be the only one there to take care of her for those weeks before she could move. Oh, so old Snape had no magic and nothing else to do, make him stay there and do nothing. Were they forgetting how much I could do? Even with lower magic I could beat almost any one of then in a duel. I knew I could do so much more, but the Order set me as a muggle baby-sitter. Me, of all people. I must have demonstrated my irritation in front of the muggle, because she confronted me for my manners and I had no word to answer to that. A stranger confronting me. Was I losing my touch? Was I not the scary bat of the dungeons anymore? What the fuck?

But she was right and I hated to admit it. Well, I didn't actually admit it, I just shut up and made lunch. Damnit, I had just met the girl and was already going soft.

As the days passed she must have gotten used to my manners and I figured out how to not be rude. They way she lived her life was so different from mine, with no magic at all, doing everything she had to do by hand, and walking, and cleaning, and taking pills. I observed more than she must have noticed, and it was clear to me that she was not sleeping and was getting more tired every day, until the point she looked confused and on the edge.

There was yet again something new. Why the hell did I care? She was a grown up independent woman, if she couldn't sleep, it was her problem, she would have to do something about it. My job there was to make sure she wasn't attacked by evil wizards and to keep her alive in case it happened, not to ensure that she was sleeping well. But damn it all to hell. I made her cocoa and gave her sleeping potion and helped her to bed, and felt good when she fell deeply asleep.

Valerie was hard working. She left the apartment in the morning and returned just at night, rarely stopped to eat of rest, was always talking to people, having meetings, teaching classes, giving children her attention and advice, and she did it all smiling. She told me how much she would miss her routine and her people, and it was really something hard for me to understand. I had never had what she had, a job to be done with passion, people who smiled when they saw her, and music. Lots of music, there was music everywhere. She taught children how to play some instruments, some others how to sing, and there was music everywhere. When she got back home in the evening – and by she I mean we – she would put on music to play again, always relaxing tuned, and every night it felt easier to talk to her, as she was also growing accustomed to my presence, just as I was with hers.

And then there was the boyfriend she decided to break up with before leaving. Of course a girl like her would have a boyfriend. I watched from the window, observing not just them but the surroundings, and she cried when the man left. Returning to the apartment, she looked sad and I felt weird. Again.

I may have had too little experience in relationship related feelings, and feelings in general, actually, but I was not stupid enough to not see what was going on. I didn't know about her – I had no means to be able to read female signs, and I didn't dare to look into her mind – but there definitely was something happening to me. I hated it at times, felt a weak man, walking though a path never walked before. Just at times, though.

When she had the first seizure and I did nothing effective to help I hated myself. And I hated the Order and the all reasons that made me be there in secret and obligated to remain invisible while her ex-boyfriend did what I was supposed to be doing. That thought astonished me to no end. When the man left I talked to her and did what I could. I hadn't known she had epilepsy and was caught by surprise.

Valerie decided she was ready to leave the next day, as she had everything prepared for her departure. Before we left, though, we stood talking by the window and she told me her story with that apartment and the neighborhood. I must have frozen in place as she told the tragedy she had been through with her parents. For a moment my suspicious paranoid mind thought she somehow knew what had happened to me when I was a teenager and was mocking me. But of course she was not. It was really her story, and it was nearly exactly as mine. I had never talked about it with no one. Well, I had, once with Lily, but that had been longer that I dare to admit. But now, with Valerie, knowing she would completely understand, and not just guess, just remotely imagine how it had felt. I told her and saw my own surprise reflected on hers.

With a silent understanding, we left. I apparated us to England – and was glad I did have the energy to do so without splinching us, and my mission with her was done. I had brought the American muggle in one piece.

But she was not the American muggle to me anymore. She was Valerie.

I knew she wouldn't sleep in the first night. I left after dinner and worked at my potions lab at Spinner's End for a few hours, and then flooed back to the headquarters. Gratefully the house was silent and I prepared tea for two and sat with a book. I knew she was moving downstairs that exact moment. I dropped the sleeping potion, just one drop, and she sat with me, surprised to find me there. I gave her some excuse for my being there, I couldn't just say 'I came to see you and make sure you sleep well'. I still couldn't even explain to myself why I cared so much.

We talked for a while and when I noticed, we were talking about my past as a Death Eater. I hadn't talked about that to anyone – except when I had to do it with the Winzengamot –, and I had always deeply believed I'd never do it. It was past, done, out of the way, and to hard to remember and to put in words. But then again, that was Valerie. She got worried that I shared their views as Death Eaters, and a little part of my mind, one forgotten part that still hoped for good things, thought it was because she cared about my personal opinion about her. I reassured her that it was not true and she relaxed.

That same little hopeful part of my mind was fed the next morning. I overheard her talking to the annoying younger ones and telling then she thought wrong and disrespectful of them to look into the memories I had left to Potter, believing I was dying. She refused to hear the story one of them was about to say and left as if she had been offended. Remarkable, that woman.

Meeting her at the house was common and very pleasant. I had seen her talking and getting along with people, and one of them was Lupin. I didn't know him and sig signs, but it that wolf had any intentions with her, he would be up for a fight. Oh, I never fooled myself. I am a jealous man, and I know it might not be a good thing, but that's it. I had nothing with her, I didn't know if I was reading correctly the signs, but seeing her talking to him pinched hardly something inside me. As the time passed by, I saw it was probably nothing, but I kept my eye open anyway.

Oh, when I ran into her leaving the shower I nearly lost control. She smelled amazing and those water drops running down her skin were enticing. All I wanted to do was push her back into the bathroom and smell and taste that skin, and have her right there. I didn't, though. My body protested mightily.

I watched when Valerie stood up for herself and faced a very narrow minded Weasley about the capacities of muggles. It was beautiful to see how the usually friendly and sweet woman was firm and put her opinions with clarity, claiming respect. I was very proud of her then.

My sense of jealousy got very confused when she got the news about her ex-boyfriend's death. She got desperate and grieved as if she loved him, as if he was still her boyfriend. Obviously I could understand it, I was not that much of a heartless bastard. At least not any longer. She wanted to leave and was kind of hysterical, so I told Molly Weasley to take everybody else from around. It was a private moment. As her cousin was also not being able to calm her down, I made her leave as well. Valerie didn't need a fuss right now. It felt natural to me how she cried and calmed down when I held her. The feeling of her in my arms was something complete, warm, and it felt so good, but her sobs bothered me. I am definitely not good with crying woman.

After that the felt ill again and seizure. Now I wasn't bothered anymore, I was just angry with Lucius for giving her those news in such an abrupt way, and for whatever the reason was that she had that disturb.

A few nights later she hadn't been able to sleep and was looking terrible. The potions I gave her didn't work, and I got to the extreme of offering to stun her. It would not be sleep, but her body would stop and rest at least a bit. She was uncertain but accepted it. It surprised me to no end when she asked me to stay with her while she tried to sleep without the spell. There was absolutely no way I was going to say no to that. I am not ever certain that I would be capable of saying no to anything she asked me. I was becoming an idiot.

I held her and we lied in bed, and she finally fell asleep surprisingly fast. I did as well and spent the night in bed with her. It had never happened before in my life, sleeping in bed with someone else, even more without having had any other intimate contact. I woke up in the morning lying on my side, her back pressed heavenly against my chest. She was breathing slowly, deeply asleep, and I remained there as still as I could, just enjoying it. I didn't want her to wake up anytime soon; she needed and deserved that calm slumber, and it fell so good. After a few minutes she moved in her sleep and brushed against me. Damnit. How could I have missed the fact that I had an erection? It was morning, all right, but it was obviously not just that. It was the soft, warm, beautiful woman pressing her buttocks against it. I wanted to press against her as well and let anything that might happen just happen, but I couldn't. She was asleep, tired, vulnerable, and what kind of man would I be if I took advantage on that? So I just got up and left, going to the toilet and shamefully taking care of that my myself.

By the end of August I was admittedly aching for her. It was impossible. I had loved someone before; Lily had been in my heart and mind for almost my entire life, but it had never felt like that. I knew I was someone else now. I had no Dark Mark infecting my feelings, I was living relatively peacefully, my life was another now, and all of that change a person. It was not a painful feeling like it had been, and like I thought it to be normal when you had feelings for someone. That was new. Everything after I met Valerie was new, and I welcomed it. After all those weeks I was not scared as I got in the beginning anymore. I deserved it, damnit.

I knew she wouldn't go to the dinner at Hogwarts. May the Gods bless Minerva for arranging it. I obviously wouldn't go, and the headmistress knew that, although she insisted that I would. I apparated to the headquarters and she was there, alone, smelling amazing, reading and listening to music. She smiled when she saw me. We chatted a little and I decided that was it, I had to take my chance.

And now she was on top of me on the couch, returning my kissed and holding on to me as I could only have imagined in my most vivid thoughts. I felt drunk, hungry, feasting on her lips and tongue, and holding, travelling, squeezing her to make sure it was really happening, that it was really going to happen.

She rubbed against me, sitting on my lap, and moaned with me when she felt my erection. I don't think I had ever been that hard. I needed more, needed to feel her even more, so I slid my hands beneath her top. Her skin felt warm and that was when she told me to take her to bed.

I wanted to fly upstairs, but I took my time. She got up and I took her hand, leading her slowly to her bedroom. She turned to me when the door was closed and I could see how flushed and breathless she was. Had I done that? Did she look like that for my sake? I couldn't wait any longer to touché her again, so I took a step and pulled her into my arms, kissing her again. I felt her hands now, roaming around my face and my hair – and somehow I could still think clearly to be grateful that I had washed it that afternoon – and then down at my neck until she started trying to unbutton my shirt.

Oh, Gods, she really did want this. My precautious mind, that small piece that was still holding back, just to be sure, gave in. She wanted me; I was going to have her. Finally.

I held her top and lifted it, taking it off when she raised her arms. She kept unbuttoning my shirt, her hands fumbling, and I just stared at her. Valerie was wearing a white lace bra and the top half of her breasts were showing, the perfect size, not too big or too small, round and begging to be touched.

The next thing I knew, she was sliding my shirt down my shoulders and I let it fall and kissed her again, reaching for the clasp and letting the bra go. I felt her breasts pressing against my chest and slid both hands to touch her. They fitted perfectly in my hands and I had to stop kissing her to catch my breath. She moaned as I teased them firmly and her nails dug in my upper arms. I kissed her lips again and trailed down to her neck, collar bone, and I finally met one of them, still holding firmly the other. Se arched to give me better reach and I felt her nipples harden impossibly under my tongue. I sucked it into my mouth, the perfect, pink little nub. She gasped and moaned and grabbed firmly to my hair. I suckled on her, both her breasts, teased and kisses, and heard her moan out louder now. She whispered my name and threw her head back. Gods, that woman was willing, open, hot, and I made that.

I reached down and grabbed her arse, never letting go of her breasts. She let go of my hair and slid her skirt down, stepping out of it. She held me by the arms and walked backwards to the bed. And then she was under me, so hot, so responsive, her cheeks red and her lips swollen, and her little soft hands caressing my back, her nails scratching me when she shivered feeling me biting her neck.

Valerie reached down between us to my trousers. I had to stop her. If she touched me or opened my buttons I would lose control. I already wanted to set my harness free and enter her with no more delaying.

"Don't…", I told her. "I wouldn't control it…"

I didn't wait for an answer. I slid my hand down to her knickers and touched het on top of it. The moan was mine now. If felt hot and wet even through the fabric. I hadn't thought it would be possible to get harder. I sat up on my heels and slid the white knickers down.

I had to stop and stare. Beautiful. Her hairs fell like a mane around her and on the pillow. She looked at me with desire, breathing heavily. My eyes roamed down her body until I saw how much she wanted it. More than see, I touched and I tasted it. She rocked against my mouth, arching up, moaning loud getting wetter and pulsing, and I was in paradise. I entered her with my fingers and felt her clenching around them. She screamed my name and grabbed my hairs. I felt her come in my mouth.

How did I do that? I had very little experience with cunnilingus, but it felt so right and so perfect. Delicious. I looked at her again, coming back from her orgasm and she smiled deliciously at me. Oh, I couldn't hold it anymore. I felt like I'd explode. She must have noticed it, for on the next second she was sitting up and opening my belt and the buttons of my trousers, and her little, perfect hand reached in and took my erection out. I think I moaned. Getting up, I took the pieces of clothes that were still on the way. Valerie lied down again and opened her legs to me. Gods. Hot, beautiful, amazing, naked woman opening her legs to me, inviting me in. I lied down on top of her and we kissed hungrily. She must have tasted herself in my mouth. We rubbed against each other, her wetness moistening me. I didn't need my hands to help find her entrance. She groaned in my kiss when my tip slid into her. I looked at her. I needed to see her face when I made her mine.

"Look at me", I told her and she opened her eyes. They were shining and locked with mine. I entered her, holding her tight in my arms. We groaned together when we fitted perfectly. Oh, how could I not moan like a boy? She was hot and so wet and tight, so tight it was even a little hard to fully enter her. Our eyes never left and I started moving out and into her again, and she cried out my name, looking into my eyes. Oh, I was undone. It was perfection. She moved up to meet me and our movements became long, strong and fast. I rested my hands on the bed, by her sides and supported myself on my arms. She opened up for me even for, her legs coming up to my shoulders. Perfection. She was moaning loudly and the sound was like the most beautiful music to me.

"Oh, God, Severus! Yes! I'm coming…"

No way back now. I hastened the pace. "Come, come to me Valerie. Come with me. Yes, oh fuck! Valerie!"

Deep inside her, I came harder than I ever had in my life. She was moaning, clenching around me, but our eyes never left each other. I grabbed her nape strongly and pounded on her once again, the last of my seed pulsing out of me. She was breathing hard now, lost in her own come. I kept looking at her. Beautiful. Perfection.

Mine.