~*~Sweet Avarice~*~

The dinner was set out and he realized belatedly that he was staring. To rid himself of the ability to, Severus found the table suddenly more interesting. Persephone hesitated, a smile locked on her face and he noticed her right hand was cradled to her waist. He wondered why.

"What's the...occasion?" Severus inquired. After seeing that he was barefoot, Persephone had vanished her shoes back to her room with a smile. Her petite little feet were a wild contrast with the deep mahogany wood of the floor.

"I thought we should have a nice dinner for once..." Persephone muttered and she collected herself as she gestured outward. "Won't you join me?"

Even with his misgivings, he had skipped lunch to sort out the two miscreant second-years who had ravaged the library with a spell they had found and he was truly starved. He nodded politely taking his cues from her, took his seat and picked up his fork as she did.

"Did you...have you been planning this all day?" he asked her, groaning silently at the flavor of the roast on his tongue; it was divine.

With a cute blush, she nodded and sipped her wine. He found himself mimicking her, the taste lingering on his tongue. "It came to me this morning."

Severus started casting about in his head for something to say but Persephone did it for him. "How was work?"

It was a domestic question and one he would have expected out of a wife...which led his mind down the wrong paths and he focused on the way his vegetables clung to his fork. Now that she had brought it up he remembered what Yaxley had said and his uncertainty about whether or not Alecto had decided to join up with him and Rodolphus Lestrange. But he could hardly tell her about that without a lot of explaining and he knew he would end up touching on something that she wouldn't remember and it would cause her a headache.

His thoughts came to a halt quite suddenly and Persephone frowned at him. Realizing his own silence, Severus smiled at her. "Nothing too bad, since it is still the holidays. By the first week of January we will have much more to speak about."

Persephone granted him a laugh and she began to eat again. "Are we celebrating Christmas this year?"

He hadn't celebrated anything at all for the past four years and hadn't even thought of the holiday. 'Should I get her something? Will she want to get me something?' The eyes gazing back at him were like a trap and he lost his train of thought again. When he remembered something about a floating mistletoe one year at Hogwarts, he caught back up with himself. There was too much going on at once and he needed a silent moment to process it all.

"Did you wish to?"

A sad look came over her face and she looked down. "Well, I don't really have a family to invite but I suppose you could invite some of your friends." Persephone suggested, gulping a mouthful of wine.

Severus had never invited anyone to his home, whether it be Spinner's End or here. People had been foisted upon him, but he hadn't ever asked them to come. The thought of people in his home disgusted him though he had more people in the past week than he had had over four years. Would Narcissa want to come and mingle with Persephone again? Draco hadn't been sent over to him yet and he supposed it was because his mother couldn't corner him into it. Perhaps he could invite the Malfoys over...but Severus would have to limit the list to that.

When he presented this to Persephone, she shook her head. "Narcissa told me about Astoria Greengrass...and the trouble she was having with Draco. Maybe we can have the Greengrasses over as well?"

Is she reading my mind?, he thought, watching her closely, but all he gathered was that she licked her lips after every bite and the sight of juice on her tongue made it hard for him to breathe.

"If we invite the Greengrasses, word will get out and somehow we'll have far more guests than is needed at Christmas...besides, I think Draco would feel cornered if it was just us, his mother and the Greengrasses."

Persephone bit her lip as she thought. "Then maybe we should invite more people. I've never thrown a Christmas party."

Why did he feel like giving in to that sad look? Before he could figure that out, his lips moved. "If you really want to."

The utter joy that crossed Persephone's face was worth the thought of a crowded sitting room. He didn't have the king's ballroom but his sitting room would be big enough for a nice get-together. Not that he wanted one, but as he laid down his fork he realized that Persephone was standing beside him. The warmth coming off of her skin from the candle's flame that she had absorbed soaked into him and he once again forgot what it was he was meaning to say.

She bent, slowly, as though she was letting him decide whether or not to flee, and pressed her soft lips against his own. Oh, what he wouldn't give to remain here forever. Just like all the times before, her kiss was intoxicating and he felt himself shiver from the taste of wine on her tongue. Dinner lay forgotten as he reached up and buried his fingers in her soft, wavy hair, finding feet beneath him as she wrapped an arm about his neck. She was so warm and willing and he couldn't stop himself if he wanted to. Guilt be damned.

He gripped her hand and she cried out, retreating from their embrace. Severus came back to himself and pulled back as well.

"I'm sorry." He said, gazing up to see her holding her right hand close. "Are you injured?"

"It's...it's nothing. The King, he doesn't know his own strength, I suppose."

"The King?" Severus stood, coming before Persephone with worry.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see this nothing." They stood a few feet from each other, but he bridged the gap in one stride. Persephone extended her hand slowly and he took it. Three of her fingers were very swollen and there were small bruises like those of long, thin fingers. He sighed, cupping her face.

"Why did you not tell me he hurt you?"

"He hurts us all, Severus. My wounds are not special."

"I am supposed to take care of you. I cannot do that if you will hide your injuries from me."

"You hide everything from me. Bruised fingers are such a little thing. I would have fixed it myself, but there is only one lab in the manor and it is not mine."

"Come." Severus laced his fingers through the ones on her good hand and led her out of the dining room. His lab was down the hall from his bedroom, with reinforced walls, floor and roof. Since his tenure as Headmaster and the Dark King's highest, he had earned a vault full of Galleons and spent it on the things he would have liked to have had if the world had gone the other way. And if he had survived the Light's victory.

Severus hadn't brewed a potion in months, but he never forgot the ways. Persephone claimed the stool in the corner, beneath the high shelves with the empty vials and he set about finding her a suitable salve. Her voice carried from behind as he entered his adjoining storeroom.

"Do you brew still?"

"Not lately. The King's business gave me little free time." Severus didn't say the real truth, which was that after a couple years the joy in his talent had faded as he found all the other things he was talented at.

"You continue to enjoy it?" She was walking around, he could hear how she stepped further away.

"I..I suppose."

His hands found the salve behind a bottle of Dreamless Sleep and a half-full vial of Veritaserum. Those had become frequently made when his empty manor and bad memories came running in the dark of the night. He hadn't noticed it until one night he went to place another bottle of Dreamless on the shelf and found fourteen others. There was only one left now, he had consumed the rest.

Persephone was holding a stirring rod in her hand, turning it back and forth. She had a somewhat familiar look on her face. It must have been how Hermione looked when he presented a complex problem in class.

"What happened to you?" Persephone said it so softly he almost didn't hear.

"Wha...what are you asking?"

"Your dearest profession, your greatest talent, the reason I admired you so much...but you haven't so much as touched these. Diamond, silver...you've got vials on the walls, four different cauldrons, parchment, ink, dragon-hide workwear. Your ingredient room is better stocked than most stores. And dust...it covers everything."

"The King's business..."

"Yes, you've said." Persephone came up to him and stared without blinking into his eyes. "If you tell me everything, I will tell you everything. Hide things from me and there are parts of me you will never find."

Severus was afraid. How much was she allowed to know? Could she hide it from the King if it came down to it? He set the salve on the counter and crossed his arms.

"You don't need to know everything." She made to protest, but he continued. "But, I will tell you what I can."

"Okay." She held her hand out once more and he started to heal her. The salve was terribly warm out of the jar, but grew frigid cold as it settled in her skin. She shivered delicately.

"What do you want to know?"

"How was work?"

He chuckled. "Am I that out of practice that you knew I was withholding information?" Persephone nodded slowly. "Terrible. I fear Yaxley is working with Rodolphus Lestrange to tempt my faculty against me. The show of favoritism with the second throne incited their fury. It was only a matter of time before they reacted. If they succeed in their quest, it will be considerably more difficult to control the school and its foolish denizens. Add to that the...the rebellion against the King and these puzzle pieces you keep mentioning and my plate is very full. It overflows if I cannot also keep you safe."

Severus gazed at her pleadingly, begging her to understand her value and her importance, not only to him but also to the world. Persephone smiled.

"I confess I did not want to tell you about my hand because it was the King that caused it."

"You need not fear his wrath against me."

"It was not that."

"Then against yourself."

"I do not fear the King." Persephone tested her grip and winced only slightly. He added more salve, massaging it into her skin.

"You should. He could kill us both if the mood struck him."

"He won't kill me." She said it as though she were assuring him that the earth revolved around the sun or that there was air in her lungs. Not a flicker of dishonesty touched her face. It frightened him. A person without fear was a person without caution and without caution all spies are dead.

"You cannot be sure."

"He doesn't understand me and it scares him. I don't fear him and it confuses him. Above all, my loyalties lie both with him and against him. I am an unknown and it unsettles him. He will not harm me because he cannot comprehend me and until I am no longer a riddle, I am safe."

"Despite how strong your conviction is in this matter, I must insist you inform me before entering dangerous situations, when you are in them and after you have survived them. It is my responsibility to protect you. Let me, at least, attempt to fulfill my duty."

Severus stared at her and he did not waver until she rose from her place beside his work table on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"I promise to keep you informed, if you promise to do the same."

"I promise." He said it without pause and she sighed heavily.

"The puzzle pieces come first. We must gather them, we must destroy them, and we must not fail. You know what they are, don't you?"

Moody hadn't told him and he wasn't sure where to begin searching for information. The wrong word in the wrong ear would set off the misgivings all his enemies already had. Hell forbid he give Rodolphus any more fuel for his insane 'crusade for the dark' fire. He shook his head.

"The gifts given to you by the King. They are more valuable than you know. With them, he is invincible. Without them, he is as we are. Mortal and there will be no magic that could save him. I am here," She said, stepping closer to him. "because he doesn't know me and I do not fear. You and I are the only ones that can bring him down from the inside. You and I against the whole of his darkness and we will prevail."

"I trust we will try." It was all he could grant without lying. "Is that all?"

"No. I cannot sleep. When I lay in the dark, I dream of eyes staring into me, through me, watching each other as if I am merely a shade...a curtain between their realms. One has the King's eyes, the other has only one eye, bluer than lightning and wide, unblinking. No matter which way I turn or how I scream, they ignore me and I disappear." Persephone leaned into him and rested her head against his chest. "I just want to sleep."

Severus did not comment on her dreams, he merely returned to his storeroom, put away the extra salve and collected the last Dreamless Sleep. He guided her to his room across the hall and she followed him with a quirked brow.

"If you wake in the night, because you chose to not take this," he handed her the Dreamless. "Then I will be by your side. If you take it, I will be here when you wake. I will not leave you."

"You make grand promises when I need it the most. How many times did you practice your romantic promises in the mirror?"

"Every day for most of my teens, then about twice monthly when the war started all over again." He felt a small smirk form on his lips and Persephone stopped moving long enough to give him an incredulous look.

"Are you...joking with me?"

"Must be a little rusty with it still. I apologize. It's only that I don't have many people to joke with."

"Well, now you do. And you must practice at least twice monthly."

Severus chuckled and his cheeks turned a light pink. "Take your potion."

Persephone laughed before tipping the potion into her mouth and handing him the empty vial. He vanished it with a flick of his hand. He slipped past her and flipped back the comforter, stepping as far back as he could so she could make her decision. Persephone smiled at him so brightly, he wondered if she were made of light and squirmed into his bed. He tucked her in and she curled beneath his thick covers. Her eyes closed as she thanked him and he sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she succumbed to her exhaustion and found rest.

For a moment, he joined her, wrapping his arms around her as tight as he was allowed. She smelled like fruit and he buried his face in her hair. As her breathing evened out, Severus remembered what Ginny Weasley had told him.

She'll remember everything.

That possessiveness invaded him again and his hold on Persephone tightened. He felt like a leech that rolled off one host to simply claim another out of hunger. Self-loathing crawled about inside him as he reflected.

You are nothing without something to have in avarice. She'll run from you as Lily did when she becomes herself again.

He wanted to scream at himself. Instead, he buried his face deeper in Persephone's scented hair and bit his lip to stifle the tears falling from his eyes. He didn't want to lose her...he didn't want to feel that unbearable pain in his chest. Why was she so warm in his arms? Why did she say the things she had said?

Severus thought of Alastor Moody and his self-loathing turned to anger. Persephone's love was his creation, wasn't it? Sure, Hermione had been amiable when she was here and had sworn to return, but she had never professed love. Why would she? He was the Slayer and no matter how many times he saved her from death, he had murdered the one man all men looked up to in fear or admiration. No one could love that treacherous excuse for a wizard...even someone as kind-hearted as the creator of S.P.E.W. and stalwart friend of Potter.

Suddenly the bed wasn't inviting and her warmth turn to fire. He disengaged and slid off the bed. Persephone slept on. Quietly, so as not to stir her, Severus dressed and left the room. He walked down the hall and descended the stairs. It was late at night, but he had one very last trip to make. One he could not deny even if he wanted to.

The crushing of Apparation helped him center his mind and he found his way to the Nest without so much as stumbling on the broken cobblestones. Once inside, he focused on Hermione's face, on the joy of having her alive, in his arms and sent a Patronus.

To the thief and the wolf and the king without a crown, the snake is in the nest.

For a moment he thought perhaps that was too ambiguous, but he had already sent it and didn't truly care if they scratched their heads at his message. Severus waited all of twenty minutes for them to answer his call and the space was filled with endless speculation and questions. Finally, as he was growing agitated and impatient, the wards about the Nest shifted and three people entered.

Moody, draped in his trademark coat, and sporting a scowl. Remus Lupin, who looked much healthier and calm. And last, but not least, Kingsley Shacklebolt, clad in dark purple wizard robes.

"Conflicted, Severus?" Remus asked, eyeing him with little more than an amused curiosity.

"Depends on what you are referring to, Lupin." he responded and Kingsley answered.

"Your patronus is rather odd. A doe with a lion's mane and paws, paws," he reiterated. "not hooves. Her eyes were quite familiar as well. Dark, like chocolate."

Moody was frowning. "Why'd you call us here, Slayer? What's happened?"

Severus folded his arms before him and stared at his three companions. "Nothing. But it will remain that way until I get information. What are these puzzle pieces Herm...Persephone keeps talking about? It gives her headaches to ponder over it." He watched the other two men closely to see if the headaches and the use of the codename drew any reaction. Both frowned and looked to each other before looking at Moody. The latter sighed.

"It is the reason the King still lives despite all the times he has perished or come close. The puzzle pieces keep him alive. Keep part of him here. I didn't know about them until I peeked into Hermione's mind." Flicking his eyes over to his companions, he whispered. "He has horcruxes."

Kingsley's face morphed into a mask of fear and Lupin's jaw ticked. "What are horcruxes?" he asked.

Severus knew and he let his arms fall to his sides as the implications became apparent. If the King had horcruxes, plural being the most important observation, then they had far more before them than he had first presumed. And Hermione had known before Moody had erased her memories...but how had she known when even Moody did not? Severus gazed up at the three assembled and a thought struck him.

Kingsley's brown eyes met Severus' black and for once they had the exact same thought.

"Bring Weasley." Severus ordered.

Standing once more at his library balcony, the King on the Throne of Bodies relaxed the vice-grip his hand had on his wand. When he dwelt on Persephone Damasca and the theory he had on her, it tightened something in his chest. He couldn't stand the fear that seized him. He was King Voldemort and he feared nothing...nothing but those emerald eyes when they softened and grew shiny. Her face floated behind his eyes as the landscape shifted under a strong night wind.

"My lord!" Wormtail gasped from the doorway, wheezing as he tried to breathe.

Sighing and turning, Voldemort granted the short man one look and left him standing in the library. He didn't need his voice in his ear as he thought these things over. This woman was taking his concentration from his kingdom and he wanted to end this infatuation as soon as possible. Perhaps he could invite her back? No, that would appear as though he was interested and, though he was, that was the last thing he needed.

Nagini slithered by his toes as he walked by her, hissing something about prisoners. In an rare fit of pique at his familiar he kicked her aside. The wounded slithering and hissing that met his ears cooled him and he glanced back in regret. The apology wouldn't rise to his lips and he grew angrier at himself.

He made his way into his largest study, which was littered with parchment and quills. Ink bottles, some capped, some not were scattered about the room, by candles, by books, by empty journals with crisp pages. Voldemort grabbed a quill and a sheaf of parchment.

Work, he told himself, don't give yourself the chance to think of her.

The negotiations with Italy were moving along now, he attributed that to the show with the dead girl and he had finally heard word back from Australia about the conferences there and it appeared it was tentatively in his favor. Things were still too soon to tell if everything would play out as it was set up to, and he hated the waiting now that he had achieved some movement.

But he wouldn't die so he needed to learn to cope with never-ending time and he relished the assurance of his unlimited supply. His long white fingers brought forth important papers and he signed what needed to be signed, decided what needed to be decided and wrote reminders to those he knew would forget themselves.

After what felt like at least an hour, he had cleared the study of all its unruly confetti and had accomplished quite a bit of work. But he had ignored Wormtail and his dealings with France, those being the only things giving him new problems. Of course, so was the United States, Canada and Russia. Those three had already given him vehement negative responses and they had friends who were on the cusp of doing the same. Germany for one; their newly former Minister had begun falling to Voldemort's side and had been systematically cast out and replaced by a stalwart blond with a gift for not receiving his letters...or himself for that matter. No one else had been so adept at keeping him away from their country. At least Canada allowed him to visit and speak, the Germans had closed that door and bolted it.

Japan had at first shown great promise of joining him and for a handful of months or so they had been on great terms, but after meeting with China and India, even the island nation had revoked him.

Voldemort would not be denied. Soon he would have the nations he desperately needed for trade and commerce and he would crush all those that held to their feeble protections. It was only a matter of time; which, he thought with a vengeance, I have in spades.

His weeping servant Wormtail was pacing the library aisles in a snit, muttering to himself about his faithfulness. It was so absurd that Voldemort chuckled behind the rodent's back. The sound echoed throughout the books and the man before him yelped.

"My king!" Wormtail gasped, short of breath this time from shock. "I've urgent news about Lucius Malfoy...as...as you requested."

Staring at the man in silence, his head tilted ever so slightly to the right, Voldemort took a step forward. It was fulfilling in a sadistic way to see the pure fear in the crinkles around Wormtail's eyes and nose; the way he curled in on himself out of instinct...as a rat should to a snake.

"Speak." the king ordered, passing around and walking away.

"Lu-Lucius hasn't spoken with Minister Boudin in weeks. It appears..." Wormtail scurried loudly to catch up with Voldemort's long strides. "It appears he has been barred from meeting with the Minister since the end of October. Word on the street has it that he had spent his time with...with whores to avoid reporting back to you."

The thought of Lucius crumbling under pressure brightened his day drastically. Though the prideful pureblood had grown weak and fearful after the events of the Ministry, Lucius Malfoy had refused to break because he had lost his rank. It had been a rather mixed bag of emotions; Voldemort was both pleased that his servant wouldn't break, but also displeased because of that very fact. But this...this was great news.

"And did you happen to speak to Lucius on your visit?"

"No, my king. He...uh...he was preoccupied when I found him at the local pub. He would not have recognized me if he had truly seen me and he was too far gone to relay information."

"Are you sure of this?"

"I am. I did attempt to speak to him, but he passed out when he stood up to greet me. The patrons seemed to enjoy that." There was a hint of a laugh inside the rat's voice and Voldemort watched him from the corner of his red eyes.

"Return to Paris. On the morrow you will watch him and if he still has made no attempt to call on the Minister...I will handle the rest."

Wormtail's smile fled and he nodded strongly. With a wave of his hand, Voldemort sent the short man away.

His thoughts turned to the only place he had not let them go and he stood in his library in silent fury. His gripping fear that grew out of her green eyes troubled him for many reasons, but he could not escape the central one. Those eyes were not just hers, they were Harry Potter's and they were Lily Evans Potter's. The first had been the prophesied foe he had gone to destroy and the second had been the mistake that had destroyed him.

Those eyes...so harmless as jewels, so enticing as a Slytherin color, had been something to him repeatedly over the years since the prophecy. Those eyes had been defeat. And now they came again, in such a beautiful form, on the arm of the one servant he both trusted and watched. As much as the four years since the Light's destruction had improved Severus' loyalty and iciness, Voldemort could not deny the timing was suspect.

Did it not appear clearly that the despondency stemmed from despair, not victory? But there had been no limit to his servitude when the Light fell. What Voldemort asked of Severus he received in the quickest manner possible. Be it the death of muggles or the fetching of an object. No weather, no duels, no...fear could impede him. Surely that was not simply the result of despair? There had to be some underlying loyalty to spawn that single-mindedness, hadn't there?

The library grew annoying and Voldemort paced out of the room and down the hall. The wind outside had died down and the lake was still once more. The moon cast a glow upon it that echoed out onto the tops of trees and the more reflective sides of the leaves. Some four-legged beast skipped across his land and to the other side unmolested. He supposed it was a deer. Perhaps even a doe.

His thoughts found a familiar path and he let himself be lured down it.

He had yet to investigate the Damasca family, which stood out to him as odd, and he disliked not knowing everything about the green-eyed woman who had taken such a starring role in his kingdom in such a short time.

He could have Rodolphus do it; that man slept about as much as Lucius for all the work he did. Yaxley was too much of a wild card when it came to matters that concerned Severus...as was Lestrange for that matter, but he couldn't deny the latter man had a deft hand for family records.

Decided, Voldemort entered his ballroom and touched his hand to his right temple. The connection between him and his Death Eaters was like a separate network of synapses in his mind and he plucked the one he needed.

Nagini was outside hunting for dinner and Wormtail was gone back to France by this time. The manor was surprisingly empty except, of course, for the mute children and the man in his dungeon lashed to the wall. The very one that tried to kill him. But Rodolphus disturbed his wards and he set his mind to the proper task as he waited for the man to emerge.

"My lord." Rodolphus said, bowing as he stepped up to Voldemort's feet. The fact that no one else was about seemed to both please the man and frighten him.

"Lestrange," Voldemort hissed coldly, stepping around his follower and folding his hands before him. "You have a talent I shall require the use of. It occurs to me that Severus has found a pureblood woman from a supposedly powerful family, and yet I have heard nothing of their prowess from anyone. I know the trees better than most, better than even you, but I do not recall one Damasca of worth in them. Find their records. Search their properties. Interrogate whomever holds information. You have one week to report back to me...and I will not accept failure. Succeed or do not return."

Bowing as low as permitted without kneeling, Rodolphus Lestrange could barely hide a smirk of joy.

A/N: So sorry this took so long but this chapter was one of the ones that started to veer off-plot and I wanted to take the time to fix it. (Well, that and I found a FrostIron fic on Ao3 that just blew my mind and had me occupied for hours. It will be waiting for me once I post this too, so...) The next installment should come faster and will include fancy party favors, a meeting with Rodolphus, Yaxley and Persephone, and Ron gets a task quite similar to one in this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it and please review. Tickle2Kill.