A/N All characters are JK's, blah, blah, blah. Shakespeare's sonnet 55 isn't mine, either, but, since he's been dead for over 300 years, I don't think I need to worry about him suing me.
Thanks to Tempesta for being my muse, and thanks to Amanita Lestrange, Tessie, and Hermione for being consistent reviewers.
Byrdgirl: this is far from the end. There's lots more to come as the Death Eaters rise to power once more.
To everyone else: review? Please? Even if it's just to say that you think the story sucks and Antonia should be shot… or cursed. Whatever. I see the hit meter climbing, so obviously, people are clicking on the link… are you clicking and running, or really reading? If you're really reading, let me know what you think!
Thanks again,
Tanasia Maleficarum
***********************************************************************************************
It was dinner time. The students and teachers were all safely tucked away within the confines of the Great Hall. Antonia glanced at the empty space beside her and said nothing.
"Antonia, why don't you try some of the kidney pie?" Dumbledore said mildly.
She shuffled her food on her plate. "I'm really not hungry, sir," she replied morosely.
The other teachers looked at her sympathetically. "Antonia, really, not eating won't bring him back any quicker," Minerva reminded her.
"I said I'm not hungry," she snapped. This time, a hint of impatience tinged her voice.
"Antonia," Dumbledore reminded. His voice held a hint of reproach.
She sighed. "I'm sorry, Minerva. I just can't eat when I don't know what's happened to him. Suppose they've gone on a raid? Suppose the Dark Lord just got bored and decided to kill Severus for fun? He's out there, and here I sit, like a spoiled princess, letting my brave knight fight my battles for me."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Antonia! Must you be so dramatic? Severus would be out there, regardless of you being here," Minerva cried, irritated with the blond bombshell's worry.
Her eyes narrowed and her voice was quiet and cold. "You're right. He'd be there whether I existed or not. The difference is, now he has something to live for, and thinking of that at the wrong time could get him killed. Pardon me for worrying about my spouse, Minerva. Of course, perhaps you've never had anyone in your life that you would willingly die for… or that would willingly die for you. So, I should excuse you for not understanding." She threw her napkin down on the table. "Now, if you'll excuse me from dinner, I have things to do."
Dumbledore nodded, and watched the pale witch rise and glide out of the Great Room. "Minerva, was that really necessary?" Dumbledore asked quietly.
She gave Dumbledore a look of annoyance. "Yes. She's been pacing around like a wraith since Severus went away this morning. I'm quite tired of it."
"Some of us deal with unexpected departures of loved ones differently than others, Minerva," he reminded.
She cast an unpleasant glare at Antonia's retreating form and went back to eating her dinner.
Antonia had returned to their bedchamber in the dungeons. "Severus, where are you?" she cried. She was here, in their bedchamber. Dominating the bedroom was their big, beautiful, comfortable bed, where they'd made love so many times. That was the bed where they'd had the most restful sleep and the most hateful of arguments. That bed was, in a word, their sanctuary from the rest of the world.
But there was no Severus with her to share it.
She looked at the small basement-style window and saw the blackness of night. Yet he still had not returned.
She pulled off her robe. "Accio dressing gown," she listlessly commanded.
For the first time in months, she slipped on her dressing gown. For the first time in months she put it on without her husband's eager hands removing it. The witch slumped down in a chair and summoned a bottle of bourbon and a shot glass (a souvenir from her days with a muggle lover) as the fae brought over a tattered copy of Shakespeare's sonnets.
She turned to Shakespeare's sonnet 55, it's pages tattered and yellowed with age. It was always the one that was the most special. It was the one that made her think of Severus.
Not marble, nor
the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish
time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes.
It was how she felt about Severus. Nothing could ever besmirch his honor, nor should time ever diminish the deeds that he had done. Time would never wear away at the love that they shared.
She poured herself another shot of bourbon and shooed away a disapproving fairy. She lifted the glass and said softly, "Here's to you, Severus. May you come home soon… and in one piece." She downed the shot in one gulp and set the glass down with a thud.
He left her that morning at seven o'clock. And now, here it was, approaching the witching hour, and there was still no sign of him. She never realized, until now, how much she associated Hogwarts with Severus.
She remembered, even as a student, how much his presence had meant to her. She thought back to her school days… A good day was not determined by how many points she had won for her house, nor was it determined by the marks she made on her assignments. A good day was determined by Severus's acknowledgment. A bad day was determined by the lengths that he went to avoid her.
And now? Now, it was Severus who kept her here. She cared not for the classes that she taught. Of course, she was surprised at how much she'd enjoyed instructing the students. But it wasn't for them, nor was it for herself, that she was here. No, she'd come to be with her husband. Having her children so close at hand was, of course, a very wonderful bonus, but she'd always known that they would be leaving for Hogwarts when they were of age.
But thinking of him and crying for him wouldn't bring him back any quicker. But there was no way that she'd be able to sleep in that bed without him. So, she did the only thing that she could think of: she poured herself another shot of bourbon. Perhaps his absence wouldn't hurt so much after she was drunk.
Four shots later, she could no longer stand. She'd given up on successfully pouring the drink into that tiny shot glass, which she swore was dancing across the table when she tried to fill it. Her head was starting to ache, and if those fucking fairies bumped one more thing, it was going to be the last thing the little shits ever bumped again.
"Fuck the glass," she grumbled. With shaking fingers, she drank straight from the bottle.
She still missed him. Every thing seemed to scream for his absence. Fortunately, she'd had enough bourbon to at least take the edge off…
As the clock approached one, she saw the flickering orange flames of the fireplace turn green. She smiled and cried out, "Severus!" She then winced, as it made her head ache.
He stepped out of the fireplace and brushed soot off of himself. He looked perfectly exhausted, but no worse for wear. "Antonia… You waited up," he half-smiled.
She launched herself out of the chair, wanting no more than to throw herself in his arms. However, she'd forgotten that she became too drunk to stand about three shots ago…
She made it about two steps across the cold floor before she saw the stones rush up to meet her.
He sniggered at the sight. His wife, his fair bride, was sprawled across the smooth stones in a heap. "Antonia, what have you done to yourself?" he asked softly, picking her up off the floor.
"My good friend Ezra Brooks from the States kept me company while you were gone," she slurred, a hand wildly flinging in the direction of the half-empty bottle of bourbon on the table.
He studied her as she dangled limply from his arms. "I have never, in all of my years, seen anyone so lovely look so pitifully ridiculous."
"I'd drink to your health, but the bottle seems to be moving," she mumbled.
He suppressed a laugh and gently brushed his lips against her forehead. "I predict that you will wake up in the morning with a horrendous hangover."
"I'll drink to that," she replied. She passed out in his arms.
He sighed and shook his head. Why had she done this to herself? It wasn't like getting three sheets to the wind would bring him home any faster… Gently, he slipped his bride between the sheets and tucked her in. He kissed her forehead lovingly, and found himself wondering if she'd survive the Severus Challenge… assuming he ever had time to finish the damned drink. "I love you," he whispered. "And I'll be back soon… not that I expect you to regain consciousness while I'm gone or anything…"
Silently, he slipped out of the bedchamber.
He quietly crept through the halls of Hogwarts and headed for Dumbledore's bedchamber. He softly rapped on the door. "Sir?"
He just hoped that McGonagall wasn't in there. He was always afraid that, on night, he would go to Dumbledore's suite and a sleepy, yet obviously annoyed, Minerva would answer the door. While he'd suspected for years that something was going on between the two of them, he really didn't want to know for sure.
The door slowly creaked open. Much to his relief, it was Professor Dumbledore that stood on the other side.
"Come
inside," Dumbledore quietly instructed.
"Sir? I have news
for you about the Death Eater's first raid," he said quietly.
Dumbledore nodded grimly. "There's one Auror that I trust with the Ministry not to get you killed. I'll tip him off."
Severus nodded. "There's a family in Devonshire. Wife's a witch, husband's a muggle, and they've got six half-blood children. The Dark Lord wants to eliminate them as an example to those who would 'sully the wizard lineage with filthy muggle blood.' They also helped lead to the capture of the Lestranges."
Dumbledore nodded grimly. "I'll get the message out in the morning. When is this due to happen?"
"He didn't tell us. But he said that he wanted to make sure that those bastards knew what they were going to die for…"
"The Lestranges were captured on the night of a full moon, if I recall correctly. Voldemort will want them to be tortured under the light, so that they'll die remembering the Lestranges being dragged away by Aurors…" he thought out loud.
The headmaster turned his attention back to Severus. "Was Antonia finally sleeping when you got back?"
Severus sniggered. "Far from it. Actually, she was completely drunk off of some Kentucky bourbon. She is presently passed out and safely tucked away in bed."
"She was miserable today."
"She tried to stay up until I came back."
"Did she manage?"
"Barely. She passed out when I got back. I predict that your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be feeling a bit under the weather in the morning."
* * *
Antonia woke up to the fairies flitting softly across her face. "Gods, can't you guys please just leave me the fuck alone?" she groaned. She felt like she'd just spent nine hours under the Cruciatus curse. The thin beam of light that came through the small windows made her eyes ache. Her head was throbbing. Even her hair hurt.
"Good morning, sunshine," Severus greeted. His voice dripped with sarcasm.
She clutched her head, willing his words to stop echoing about.
"Drank a little too much last night, eh?" he said.
She looked a bit green as she nodded.
"Are you thinking maybe you should have stopped before the shot glass started dancing?"
She whimpered. His words just kept rattling around in her head.
"Do you really think it was a good decision to get smashed beyond all meaning when you have to teach the next morning?"
She closed her eyes to shut out the offending light, and tried to shake her head. The movement made her hair hurt more, however.
"And you aren't going to do this again, are you? No matter how long it takes for me to come back from the Dark Lord?"
"Not on a school night," she croaked.
He sniggered. "Not exactly the answer that I was hoping for, but it will do." He sat down beside her on the bed and helped her into a sitting position. "Drink this," he ordered, handing her a smoking goblet.
She hoped it was hemlock. It couldn't possibly be worse than the way she was feeling now.
She downed the bitter brew, gulping it noisily. Had it been anyone but Severus, she would have demanded to know what it was before even considering it, and probably still turned it down. But this was Severus. He was her life.
And she knew that she was his.
She handed him back the still-smoking goblet and slumped forward, gasping. But her head didn't ache so much…
"Come on, Sunshine," he ordered, pulling her out of bed. "Into the shower you go."
He didn't bother stripping off her dressing gown before he scooped her up. Nor did he bother before he shoved her in the shower.
She gasped with shock when the icy water hit her. "You greasy bastard," she shrieked.
He crossed his arms and looked at her with a faint sneer. "True enough, but you, however are getting cured from the hangover from Hell, so I'll forgive your bitchiness."
She did feel a bit better…
She twisted and squirmed her way out of the clingy, wet dressing gown and tossed it at him. The heavy wetness of the material slapped him with a pop! and she hurriedly adjusted the water to a decent temperature.
"Thank you," he replied sarcastically, peeling the wet fabric off of his face.
"Glad to be of service, my love," she replied sweetly. She really was feeling better. The sensitivity to light had passed, her hair no longer ached, and her head had stopped pounding.
He sneered.
She smiled adoringly. "Come here," she whispered.
He obliged, albeit cautiously.
Her arm snaked out of the shower and she yanked him in with her.
"Antonia!" he sputtered.
"Paybacks are a bitch, aren't they, darling?" she replied pleasantly.
"What the Hell are you doing, woman!" he roared as she dumped some shampoo on his head.
"It's your turn, darling," she responded, maintaining that sticky sweet voice.
He positively snarled at her as she began stripping off his robe.
"Shut up, Severus. Just settle back and enjoy…"
The glare he gave her made it clear that he most certainly would not enjoy a second of this.
She smiled impishly and purred, "I promise, I'll make sure you enjoy it…"
Triumphantly, she tossed his robe on the floor outside the shower and began lathering him up, her hands sensually tracing the pink bath puff up and down his tall, lean form. "Are you enjoying it, Severus?" she whispered, her blue eyes bright.
He groaned. "Very much so, my lady," he replied, his voice raw.
"We do aim to please, you know…" She guided him back under the falling water and rinsed her peach scented soap off of him. She reached up to his shoulders and pulled him down on his knees. He rested his head against the flatness of her belly and wrapped his arms around her.
She was soft and smooth, her skin slick with clinging droplets of water. He felt her fingers running through his hair, lathering up the shampoo. He didn't bother to point out that he'd just washed his hair on Saturday.
"Severus, darling, you know that I love you, right?"
"Mmmhmm…" He was wary. The last time she'd said that to him, she had just gotten the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.
"We're going to have to change your shampoos. And you'll have to use it more often."
He didn't bother to argue. He'd never realized that something so simple as running fingers through his hair could feel so wonderful.
He slowly dragged one heavy fingertip down her back, down her firm backside, and down the back of her thigh. He heard her sigh and felt her fingers slow in his hair as he lightly skimmed his fingers up the inside of her thigh.
She sighed softly and snuggled him closer. "I love you, Severus. I don't think you know how hard it was for you to be away."
His lips gently grazed just below her bellybutton. "I hated it, Antonia. I hate standing there with those people, pretending to be one of them."
Her fingers tightened in his hair as he gently draped one of her legs over his shoulder. He brushed his lips against the inside of her thigh, his lips moving higher and higher.
She was leaning against the shower wall, gripping the back of his hair almost desperately. "Severus," she whimpered when his lips made it to their goal.
He felt a marked twinge of satisfaction as she was limp against him. She was his, and his alone.
* * *
The Great Hall
Breakfast
"Where the Hell is Antonia?" Minerva asked, annoyed by (what she considered) the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's snubs. Who the Hell was she to think that she was too good to at least have breakfast with the other teachers?
"Severus came home last night," Dumbledore said mildly. "I expect they've some, er, catching up to do…"
The other professors looked mildly nauseated at the thought of that beautiful witch having sex with Snape, of all people…
"I've lost my appetite," Professor Vector, the arithromancy professor, said, pushing back his plate.
When they did finally stumble down to the Great Hall, both of them still had very wet hair. Antonia's eyes were slightly glazed.
"Late night last night?" Dumbledore asked, looking at the two professors with a twinkle in his blue eyes.
"Ugh. I woke up with a hangover," Antonia admitted. "Severus was kind enough to take care of that for me."
Minerva looked like she was going to throw up, and several of the other professors looked away.
"He made a potion, for Gods' sake! Would you people please get your minds out of the gutter!"
"And hopefully, my wife has learned not to drink in my absence."
A tender look was passed between the two. For the first time, some of the professors realized the obvious. He really does love her… and she truly loves him.