Chapter 13
Snape knocked at the headmaster's door and the pair entered. Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore were seated and obviously expecting them. The frankly astonished expressions on their faces bore testimony to the truth that they were not expecting the pair to arrive looking as they did that night.
Severus and Deborah entered the room gliding elegantly, with a nearly feline grace. Minerva was shocked at Snape's appearance, she had never thought of him as being handsome, yet the man who stood before her was darkly attractive, powerful and compelling. The softer drape of the new sweater and jeans revealed a body that was sleek . The midnight black leather that hung in liquid folds around his body revealed his height and strength far beyond what his ordinary dress ever could. The white haired woman was equally powerful; proud and bewitching, with a seductive aura of potent magic, perfectly framed by her own sensual drape of black leather. Those shoes, how could she walk in those shoes? Snape and Deborah exchanged a glance then looked toward her, and McGonagall suddenly recalled that the two of them could communicate telepathically and realized that they had probably heard her thoughts. They made a striking pair.
Albus cleared his throat and was first to speak. "I can see that the two of you have other business to attend to so I won't detain you long." Again, the couple exchanged that long glance, the glance which bespoke that parts of the conversation were only known unto themselves.
"Deborah, Severus. It's apparent to us that the two of you are now a couple. That is none of my business or anyone else's, except in so far as it might possibly cause conjecture and comment among the students and their parents. It simply wouldn't do to have one of you seen coming out of the other's private quarters when the children get here next week. It could create a problem."
The pair looked at each other for a few seconds, and once more McGonagall experienced the disconcerting sensation of observing a conversation which she could not hear. They turned back to Albus and waited silently.
"Minerva and I have put our heads together and have come up with an arrangement which might serve well under the circumstances. The visitor's suite beside yours, Severus, is quite spacious and it has not been used in years. Since Deborah will be assisting you in dealing with Slytherin students, it would be appropriate and more convenient for both of you if she actually resided in the Slytherin area, particularly now that the anti apparition spells are going to be recast. Your private business is your own, but please be discrete. You know how your little serpents love to gossip. The password for the secret passageway between your quarters is 'absinthe,' which shouldn't be too difficult to remember. If either of you would happen to speak it in front of your closet' the connecting hallway will be revealed." Albus smiled at the brief look of discomfiture that flashed across Snape's face. Deborah displayed a slightly feral grin, turned toward Snape, and Albus was delighted-Severus blushed for an instant before recovering his composure.
"If this arrangement is agreeable to both of you, I can have the house elves transfer your belongings to the new quarters tomorrow, Deborah."
Does it work for you Sev? Even in his mind he could pick out her laughing tone.
It's a gift. What about you?
Mmm, that secret passage way sounds convenient. Yes, it works for me.
"It sounds wonderful," Deborah said. "I appreciate that you've been so considerate, Albus." She turned to Minerva. "I realize that you have had concerns about how we might appear to the students-I'm an empath and I can pick up on such thoughts. We are not going to give the students any cause for speculating on our personal lives. We each prefer that some things be kept private. "
"Good! I'll have the house elves clean the guestroom out immediately. It will be ready for you to start arranging tomorrow. Hoople can take you to the storage rooms and you can select whatever furnishings you would like, and Deb, Hoople has asked to be your house elf and if you would like to, you may have him." Albus was beaming, he had seen Snape's scow at the mention of the elf. "Now, before the two of you leave, I have one small request, if you would humor an old man."
Moments later, Severus and Deborah posed standing closely together, her hand on his proffered arm, while Albus took their picture with an archaic looking magical camera. "I'll make copies for both of you," Albus promised.
Deborah and Severus had disappeared in a swirl of dark leather. Their scents lingered and drifted in the office. Minerva turned to Albus. "I simply do not know what to say about that."
"Slytherins usually do have a certain sense of style. I'm pleased that Severus is finally finding his. Those frock coats he favors are abysmal."
"It's far more than how he is dressed. It's his manner, the way he moves. Did you see how he held himself? Totally different."
"It was bound to happen. Albus poured himself more tea. "Severus has discovered that he is not the ugly duckling. Good for him. Doubly good for her, I'd wager." Minerva raised her eyebrows and did not pursue that line of conversation. Sometimes Albus could get a little too carried away with his matchmaking projects.
Severus and Deborah were having fish and chips at a London hole in the wall shop. "I realize that it's not terribly imaginative, but this is the kind of food I like and they never serve it at Hogwarts. It's always roast this or boiled that. Never anything greasy or spicy or just plain good. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. Especially now that they've managed to find a bottle of catsup for me." She laughed at his disgusted expression. "Stop that or I'll curse you!" She brandished a fry in his direction. She drank some of her beer. "This was an excellent idea."
"We've got almost an hour to kill before the movie starts. Do you want to stay here or look around?"
"Stay here. How often do we get to sit and talk?"
"Never," he said. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I think I'd like to talk about the 'Queen of Blood' that you keep thinking about but don't want to ask me about."
Damn, he thought, you can't keep anything from an empath.
I heard that. No you can't. Sev, if you want to know something about me, ask. The worst I can do is say that it's something I don't want to get into at the moment. Anyway, the 'Queen of Blood' is a disgusting name that was given to me by some American magical papers, rags on the order of the Daily Prophet. It must have helped sell papers because they latched onto that with a vengeance. I was married at one time, and my husband rose to be the commander of the vampire main force, and yes, he was a vampire. He was killed in battle. I was his second in command so upon his death I assumed command of the forces. Because they were under martial law due to the war for a brief time I was technically the head of the vampire nation; it took about a week until I could hand leadership over to a vampire. It was all wonderfully sensational and intriguing to bored folks who had no concept of losing someone you love in war or of having to fight on and not be able to mourn your husband. But yeah, that is what the 'Queen of Blood' bullshit is about. Because my husband was a vampire and because I led the forces for a few days after his death.
My husband's name was Ian Grey, he was Reuben's brother. Reuben calls me 'sis' and 'little sister' because he called me that when I was his sister-in-law, maybe I am still his sister-in-law. I'm guessing that you found some reference to me in the library. Honestly, I don't mind answering your questions. It happened several years ago, and that part of my life is over. I have no desire to live in the past and I'm not afraid to look at the past. It's just…the past. Reuben is one of my very few connections to that time in my life because he's part of the family.
Deb, I'm sorry. I had no idea it was anything like that or I wouldn't have even looked it up to be thinking of it. I assumed it was just a nickname because of your being in combat and maybe because you can fight so well. Witches get that sort of thing here and yet they're some of the best fighters. I didn't want to ruin your evening like this.
Sev, stop it, you haven't ruined my evening. The past is the past. I don't live there. I'm having a wonderful time. I'm with you and that is exactly where I want to be. Ask what you want to know.
Did you become a wizard by fighting in the war? I've wondered because Albus said there was more than one way to get the title.
Originally that was how I got it. I eventually finished all of the courses to get it the normal way. Funny thing about me-I never was a witch because I got kicked out of school before I qualified and then I ended up going straight into battle. So I went directly into being a wizard.
We had the wizarding troubles here when I was finishing Hogwarts. I screwed up. I was so hungry for power and to make a name for myself and there was Voldemort and it seemed to me like it was the first time in my life that anyone ever appreciated me or wanted me as part of their crowd. It was totally stupid, of course, but I was eighteen. Nobody had ever thought that I was good for anything and then someone wanted me. I should have known better but I didn't. I can't even imagine why I didn't see through him then.
Eighteen is a whole different world than when you hit your thirties. It's easy to say that I should have known better, but it's not a fair assessment. You did what you did based on your experiences at that point in your life. And they hadn't been good experiences either. Tom Riddle was a very persuasive bastard. He knew exactly what to say to make you think that he was serving your purposes when he was really serving his own. Any eighteen year coming from where you did would have been no match for him. I had my entire family backing me when I dealt with him.
You met Voldemort.
Yeah, I met the son of a bitch several times. I was eighteen or nineteen. He came to America in the late seventies to try to get us to jump in with him on his pureblood bandwagon. The American wizards thought he was nuts. He was a halfblood trying to convince purebloods that there was something wrong with mixed blood. It made no sense and we told him so. Oh, and he had his big plans to try to get American witches and wizards to breed purebloods for Britain. The females amongst us anyway. And he wanted me and several others to bear his pureblooded children, which wouldn't be pureblooded children anyway if they were his, and he was preaching all of this nonsense to a country where the magical community didn't care about whether their wizards were purebloods, halfbloods, or cropouts, which is what we call muggleborns. The idiot stood in my father's house and more or less told my father that he wanted me for breeding stock. When my father sent him on, he sneaked back and tried to talk me into running away with him. He was totally insane and totally convinced that no woman could resist him, but each and every American one told him to get lost. Personally, I told him to stick it where the sun doesn't shine, yeah, those were my exact words to your so-called 'Dark Lord.' He also found out that I know how to send someone off with a good old American 'fuck you' and a pretty neat burning curse for good measure. Don't look at me that way. He might be the Dark Lord around these parts but where I come from he is 'that asshole from across the pond, Tom Riddle.' And you know that I know a little about fighting. He met similar welcomes everywhere he went and essentially got run out of town. He skedaddled so fast that we didn't have time for the tar or feathers, pity.
Do you think that he can find a way to come back? It seems so impossible, but it feels like it's happening already.
Sure he can and sure he will. There are ways to do it, I can think of several, no decent person would do what he's going to do but then again, Tom isn't anything like a decent person and never has been. You know that as well as I do. He's a sadistic bastard, and sociopath, or as my father succinctly put it, a sick fuck. I wish it weren't so, but we haven't seen the back of him yet. Sev, you be careful when it starts to go down. I love my cousin Albus, but he is a tougher man than most people realize. His main concern is not going to be for the welfare of Severus Snape, or for Deborah Jenkins for that matter. And remember, when it goes down, I've got your back. You haven't seen me in a real fight, but I'm not shabby. Not by a long shot.
The pair was quiet for a while after that thought, and continued picking at their food, their hunger satisfied. Severus took a long look at the dining area.
"Do you think that people think it's strange that we are sitting here eating and we don't appear to be talking to each other?"
"Not at all." she replied. "They probably assume that we're married." I think that it's strange that you keep thinking about how weird your new underwear feels. You should have worn the old ones. There is nothing wrong with tighty whities.
They left the theater. Deborah thought that Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves had been an unusual choice-a good movie but not a date movie. Most guys picked stupid chick flicks for date movies, a type of entertainment she didn't care much for. She enjoyed the film, not that it mattered. She would have been perfectly fine with watching two hours worth of insurance commercials. She had savored the experience of leaning against him, watching his face by the flickering pale light from the screen. His mind hadn't exactly been on the movie either. Nor could she claim all of the credit for that. She snickered. I have to see those underwear. I want to see what keeps a wizard like him so edgy all evening.
They strolled from the theater arm in arm. Street sounds gradually gave way to more pleasing natural sounds as they entered a deserted park. The moon was bright, nearly full. Severus said, "It's time to begin our little series of apparitions."
"Or, we could just fly," she said.
"Neither of us brought a broom, which is frankly much safer in your case."
"I didn't say ride a broom. I said fly. The way I do, not your way."
"How exactly do you fly with no broom?"
"I'll show you how." She buttoned his coat and tied the belt. He thought it was funny and tender the way she did such little things, always concerned for his comfort. "My way of flying is a little cold," she explained, "I don't want to freeze you. Take my arm."
Deborah offered him her left arm, which he took. She whispered something that he didn't quite hear, raised her right hand a small distance over the top of her head and pointed skyward with her index finger. They slowly levitated off the park lawn. She straightened her arm a little more and they began to ascend more swiftly. After they cleared the maze of telephone and electrical wires, she straightened her arm to nearly the fullest extent possible and stretched her hand out flat before her, palm down.
He found himself clinging tightly to her arm, flying over the countryside at an incredible rate of speed, far more swiftly than he had ever traveled by broom. The wind was cold on his face, but it was a thrilling ride. He found himself grinning with delight and he caught a glimpse of a rapt expression on Deborah's face when he was able to tear his eyes away from the scenery flashing below. They were moving so swiftly that he could feel the air's lift on the front of his body, lift that he could manipulate by changing his position slightly. This was true flight, not riding an object, it felt free. He was a little disappointed when they arrived at a Hogwarts courtyard so quickly. Deborah's kind of flying was far more wonderful than using a broom.
Severus walked her back to her room, a little nervous now. He wasn't sure where the evening was going and suddenly he felt that he needed to somehow escape-too much was happening too fast. He walked her to her door and kissed her after she entered. She thanked him for the wonderful evening, he thanked her for going with him. He silently thanked all that is good and holy that he hadn't made an ass of himself on their first date. He turned to leave when a hand caught him by the back of his coat. "And just where do you think you're going? I've watched you fidget and have been hearing you think about those new underwear of yours all evening. It's about time that I find out what sort of pernicious garment could be so upsetting." She pulled him none too gently back into the room.
No, you're not running away this time. Sev, I know that you're not ready for some things and that is fine. But there is plenty that that you are ready for and you can enjoy; we are going to have a wonderful night tonight. Trust me. I care about you. You are safe and you are loved here.
She motioned for his coat. After a moment of hesitation, he allowed her to help him remove it. She hung it carefully on a coat rack next to her door then placed her own beside it. She turned back to see Severus intently inspecting some crochet pattern books on her shelves, as if she might possibly believe that he was interested in crochet patterns. She walked up behind him and hugged him to her.
He startled a little. He felt that he was sliding into unfamiliar territory, which was an extremely accurate assessment. Her hands stroked him from his shoulders down to his thighs-he tensed but didn't try to move away. She stepped in front of him and angled her face upward for a kiss and he responded-here was something with the safety of being well known. They spent long minutes in a tender embrace. Then she took his hand and led him to her bed. He started to speak and she silenced him with a tiny frown. She sat him on what had come to be "his" side of the bed.
Deborah moved to the other side of the room, and he stole a glance over his shoulder. She had pulled off the fabulous shoes and was standing in front of her closet with her back to him. She peeled away the thin silk top and tossed it into a hamper. She tossed in a lacy bra, then jeans, then slid out of her black hipsters. She pulled off her knee high hose. She turned quickly enough to catch him watching, before he could turn away. She allowed herself a knowing smirk.
With a flip of her hand she extinguished all of the candles in the room except for one small one that flickered on her nightstand. Now she turned her attentions to Snape. She stood in front of him, inviting him to look. He chose to stare at the floor. She caught him by the chin with her hand and gently lifted his face and kissed him slowly. Again he responded to the familiar. She broke the kiss and stepped back.
He sat there, not knowing what to do. She knelt and removed his boots, then his socks, which she placed inside of the boots. She stood. She stroked his face and kissed him again. This time his response was a little hesitant-he was clearly uncomfortable. She knelt again and unbuckled his belt and he stared away, somewhere into the distance. She unsnapped the jeans and unzipped them. "Lift up a little," she whispered. He did and she pulled the jeans down and off of his body. She folded them and placed them on a nearby bench.
He looks so miserable and uncomfortable, she thought to herself, carefully shielding the thought so that he wouldn't hear it. She sat beside him, leaning into him. She put her arm around him, running it up under the sweater. She put her head on his chest and after a few seconds he nuzzled her face with his. She gave him a few moments to become a little more composed. She stood and pulled his sweater and undershirt over his head, pleased to discover that he raised his arms obediently to assist her. Taking his hand, she pulled him to standing, then kissed him again. She turned down the bed and she could feel his relief at crawling in and being covered. She shielded her thoughts again. Hiding under textiles as always. It isn't going to work this time, Severus. She noticed him keeping his left arm close to his body, even now he can't forget that damned mark, she thought.
She knelt beside the bed and began kissing him ardently. He responded, finally more comfortable, protected by layers of warm bedding. She slid her hand into the small of his back and pressed upward. Without thinking he raised his hips and that was his downfall-with a practiced hand she thrust her other hand under the sheets and quickly slipped his boxers down and off of his body. She smiled knowingly and displayed her prize for a moment before she placed it on top of the stack she had been building. Severus had a slightly wounded, slightly, 'oh, no' look on his face. She experienced a brief instant of evil glee then admonished herself for enjoying his distress. She walked to the other side of the bed, blew out the remaining candle, and climbed in beside him.