Chapter Twelve: Tea and Voldemort

"You're joking?" Veronica said, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Voldemort mentioned me by name?"

Severus snorted. "I just told you Malfoy tried to have you killed and that's all you can say?"

She cleared her throat in an attempt to contain her glee as she sat on the sofa in his dungeon room. "Sorry, it's a matter of professional pride. In Dark Arts research circles, you know you've made it when Voldemort knows who you are."

"He mentioned you very much in passing, so don't get too excited." Severus sat down next her and draped his arm across the back of the sofa. Veronica took his arm and put it around her shoulders, then scooted closed to him, as he hoped she would.

They sat in silence for a few moments. The anxiety that crept across her face told him that she knew he had more to tell her, but she was letting him do it in his own time. Veronica's expression of worry was mixed with keen interest as she looked around his room. The furnishings were draped in black, the shelves were lined with ancient books, jars of Potions ingredients and petrified creatures. They tended to spend most of their time alone together in her office, but he got the impression that she actually felt more comfortable down here.

"Balin was there as well," Severus finally said.

"Oh." Her breathing suddenly became shallow and quick.

"Naturally, the subject of Hogwarts came up. When he asked who was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, I had to tell him."

Veronica visibly tensed. "What did he say?"

Was that apprehension or eagerness he heard in her voice? Severus felt jealousy welling up inside of him. "He found it very funny," he said with a trace of callous satisfaction. "You're not special to him."

The disappointment in her eyes wasn't unexpected, nor was the look of hurt she directed towards him. She shrugged off his arm as she rose to her feet. "I don't expect you to understand," she said, raising her voice slightly, "but in some ways, Balin was the most important person in my life. For good or ill, I am what I am today because of him and to know that it means nothing to him..."

"I'm afraid that is a Slytherin trait, not unique to Balin," Severus told her. "I've hurt people all my life and for the most part, I don't care either. It's a matter of degree—that's the only difference between us."

"But you have a soul."

He took her hands and pulled her gently back onto the sofa. "Yes, but it's a Slytherin soul, and I'm afraid my Slytherin soul does not understand why your Hufflepuff soul needs for him to care. Why is my love not enough for you?"

Veronica sighed in frustration. "I want it to be. I've never had much incentive to move on with my life, until now. I suppose I should just get on with it." She inched closer to him again, then settled in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "There," she said timidly. "I never thought I'd be able to do this again, but here I am."

Severus tried not to let the whole of his delight show, lest he frighten her. "How is it so far?"

"Rather pleasant, actually." She shifted her weight a little, causing him to grunt. "Am I hurting you?"

"Great gods, no! Though it would probably be best if you didn't move around too much."

Veronica quickly caught on and averted her gaze. "I want to—you know."

His breath caught in his throat. "Now?"

A look of terror crossed her features. "Well, not right now, but soon."

Severus put his hand on the back of her neck, pulled her close and kissed her deeply. "How soon?"

In reply, Veronica placed soft kisses along his jaw line and then behind his ear. "Fairly soon."

His heart pounded hard in his chest, while delicious waves of pained bliss blasted through his entire body. "How soon is 'fairly soon'?"

Keeping one arm around his neck, Veronica sat up and played with the buttons on the front of his robe with her other hand. "When are you going to stop being a spy?"

His mouth curled in a sly smile. "Just as soon as you let me make love to you."

She cuffed him on the shoulder in mock annoyance. "Seriously."

Severus' smile faded. "Soon."

*

"Take off your mask."

Lucius Malfoy's gray eyes darted uneasily from Voldemort to Balin before he surrendered the illusion of anonymity the mask provided. He bowed diffidently, but he had that same look of arrogance Balin remembered him having even as a student at Hogwarts.

"You wished to see me, My Lord?"

"I wished to see you five hours ago, Lucius," Voldemort replied petulantly. With a brief glare at Balin, he added, "I do not appreciate being kept waiting."

"My apologies, but my wife and I were attending a banquet—"

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed. "You kept me waiting for a banquet?"

Malfoy tried to maintain his dignity as he started to perspire. "I do have my reputation as a respectable citizen to protect."

"Soon, Lucius, you will be spared the burden of showing a respectable face to the world," Voldemort announced.

Malfoy's face fell. "What do you mean, My Lord?"

"When I take my rightful place and rule over the wizarding world," Voldemort said in exasperation, as if he were speaking to an idiot child. "Does that prospect not thrill you?"

The supercilious expression returned. "Of course, My Lord."

"But that's not why I called you here."

"No?" Malfoy's disquiet was now mixed with confusion.

"Tell me everything you know about Veronica Stanley," Voldemort ordered. "Particularly her relationship, if any, with Severus Snape."

A malevolent smile crept across Malfoy's face. "Snape's in love with her. According to my son, Draco, they act like teenagers at the staff table and they've been spotted kissing in the castle corridors. Snape gave her a racing broom for Christmas—the best on the market. Last Sunday, my wife and I encountered them at the robe shop in Diagon Alley. He was buying her lingerie."

Voldemort turned to Balin with a look that clearly said, 'So what?'

Malfoy obviously saw it too, because he added, "My Lord, there's no way Snape could still be one of us if he's in love with that—Hufflepuff. You don't know what she's like. She quotes Muggle philosophers in her class; she champions every Mudblood and Squib in that school; she broke my son's wand in half because she caught him honing his torturing skills on a silly frog. She's even a vegetarian for gods' sake!"

"Oh dear, a vegetarian," Voldemort replied sarcastically. "Why didn't you say so before?"

"But, My Lord—"

"Enough, Lucius!" Voldemort waved his hand in dismissal. "Out of my sight."

Malfoy bowed, then turned to leave.

Balin stopped him. "The Dark Lord tells me you're married to the lovely Narcissa. She was one of my more…talented students—always so very eager to please. Be sure to give her a long, deep kiss for me, won't you?"

Balin sneered with satisfaction when he saw the unconcealed hatred blaze in Malfoy's eyes, followed by his frustration at not being able to act on it.

As soon as Malfoy Disapparated, Balin turned to Voldemort. "He has a point, My Lord. Veronica Stanley has one of the purest spirits of anyone I have ever known. If Severus is indeed taken with her, I don't see how he could be one of us."

"It's true Severus left me once before, but he is the finest Potions Master I've ever had," Voldemort told him. "I am reluctant to be rid of him simply on Malfoy's word. You haven't seen this woman since she was a girl, perhaps she has changed."

Balin shook his head. "From Malfoy's description, she hasn't changed a bit. Perhaps Severus has changed."

Voldemort sat back in his chair and stroked his pale chin. He sighed in resignation. "The possibility that Snape could be spying on us for Dumbledore had occurred to me, but I was willing to overlook it as long as he kept supplying me with his superb poisons. Perhaps he has outlived his usefulness. Your arm, Rupert."

Balin hesitated. "You're going to kill him now?"

"What else do you suggest?"

"It just seems a pity to do away with him while he still has direct access to the thing you want most of all."

"Harry Potter." Voldemort's lipless mouth curled up in an evil grin. "What's your plan?"

"Quite simple, really," Balin replied. "Kidnap Miss Stanley and tell Severus to deliver Potter to you or you'll kill her."

"Severus isn't a fool, he'll know it's a trap."

"True, but people do foolish things in the name of love all the time. And if he truly does love Veronica, he'll turn the boy over to you and then you can kill them both. If he doesn't turn Potter over, it will still be a psychological victory—if we can kidnap a Hogwarts professor, then no one is safe. Minimal effort for potentially great rewards, with no real risk to us."

"And either way, you'll get your little playmate back," Voldemort added dryly. "Don't you think it's a bit cliché—I mean, 'give me the boy or I'll kill the woman you love'? No imagination if you ask me."

Balin wagged a finger. "Never be afraid to fall back on the classics."

"I do see one rather formidable obstacle to your classic plan, Rupert," Voldemort said, apparently annoyed that he hadn't come up with it himself. "How do you propose kidnapping her from Hogwarts?"

"Well," Balin began sheepishly, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you about Miss Stanley…"

The Cruciatus Curse Voldemort inflicted upon Balin as punishment for burning the Dark Mark into Veronica was nothing compared to the exquisite anticipation Balin felt at being reunited with his favorite student. After twenty long years, he would finally be able to finish the magnificent task of completely destroying her beautiful soul.

*

Ron looked up from his Divination homework as they all sat in the Gryffindor common room. "What are you reading, Harry?"

"A book Professor Stanley gave me."

Hermione interrupted her own studies for the upcoming O.W.L.s (which were still a whole two months away) and read the cover. "That book wasn't on the list."

"I told you, she just gave it to me to read," Harry replied. "Thought it might be helpful."

"But it's her book! She's bound to test us on it!" Hermione frantically dug through her stack of parchments. She pulled out one and shoved it in Harry's face. "See—not on the list!"

"Hermione, if Stanley was going to test us on it, she would have told us so," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Relax for once, will you?"

"Well, Harry, if she's not going to test us on it, you really should be studying for O.W.L.s," Hermione admonished. "Honestly, the two of you haven't done a bit of work so far, you really should get started."

Ron snickered. "And tear myself away from these thrilling astrological charts?"

Harry's two best friends were as stressed as he was about Voldemort and Balin, but they were dealing with it in their own unique ways. Hermione chose to concentrate on over-over-preparing for O.W.L.s. Ron was taking the fatalistic approach—at least on the outside. Under the table, Harry could see his friend's leg bouncing up and down in suppressed panic that was bound to surface sooner or later.

The fifth-year Gryffindors weren't scheduled for another Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson until the day after tomorrow, but Harry felt the need to have another talk with Professor Stanley after reading her book. There were others at Hogwarts who had been hurt by Death Eaters, but Harry suspected that Stanley had suffered as much in her own way as he had. It was somehow comforting to have someone like that to talk to. He visited her in her classroom the next day after school.

"I think I understand why it didn't sell very well," Harry said as he handed The Soulless Ones back to her. When Stanley looked mildly offended, he added, "I only meant that it's very depressing."

Stanley grinned. "Imagine having to write it." She motioned for him to sit, then settled on the edge of her desk.

Harry flopped down and heaved a weary sigh. "How can you stand it, Professor?"

She laughed kindly. "How can you—of all people—ask me that? How do you stand it?"

He shrugged. "I suppose I don't really have any choice."

"You always have a choice, Harry," she told him. "You could hide under the bed. I've often thought of doing that myself."

He allowed himself a small smile.

Professor Stanley hopped off her desk and took a seat next to his. "It's been said that we are given only the challenges that we are ready for. We're both still alive—I find that very encouraging."

Before he could respond, Harry suddenly felt a burning on his forehead and put his hand to his scar. "Ouch."

She regarded him with concern. "Are you all right?"

Only a few people knew that his scar acted as a sort of Voldemort alarm, but he couldn't see any harm in telling Stanley. "My scar hurts sometimes when Voldemort is nearby or feeling homicidal," he said grimly. "It's been hurting a lot lately." He was quite used to people staring at his scar, but this was the first time Stanley had done so.

"Do you ever have dreams—about Voldemort?" she asked with an odd expression on her face.

"Sometimes." It took him a moment to realize that she seemed almost relieved at his admission. "Do you have dreams, too?"

"About Balin, but just recently," she replied. "It's rather nice not being the only one."

Very nice indeed, thought Harry, grinning. "Well, at least you don't have a scar." When she looked away sadly, he knew he'd said the wrong thing. "Do you have a scar, Professor?"

Stanley paused, then glanced at the classroom door to make sure it was closed. "This has to stay between us, Harry. You can't even tell Ron or Hermione."

He nodded. "I promise."

Stanley unbuttoned the top three buttons of her robe and pulled back the fabric, revealing the area above her heart.

Harry gasped. Suddenly his lightening-bolt scar didn't seem so bad.

*

Veronica absentmindedly drew a heart on the essay of first-year Hufflepuff, Stephen Nichols, before she realized what she was doing. She cursed herself in disgust, then took out her wand and pointed it at her doodle. "Erase!" Once again, she attempted to concentrate on her work, but decided it was pointless until she got the doodles on paper and out of her head.

She pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and proceeded to be as ridiculous as she could be. She drew a dozen hearts with the initials 'S & V' in the center, she sketched stick figures depicting herself and Severus holding hands, and then for the ultimate bit of silliness, she wrote:

Veronica Snape.

Veronica wrinkled her nose. "Gods, that's bloody awful." She crossed it out and wrote it again, this time with a little addition:

Veronica Stanley-Snape.

"Oh, that's much better!" As if he'd let me hyphenate it. She laughed out loud at her own foolishness. As if the subject will ever come up! "I think that's enough madness for one day." She crumpled the parchment into a ball and went to throw it on the fire, when she felt a sudden burning in her chest that was so excruciating, it brought her to her knees.

Using her chair as support, Veronica pulled herself up and stumbled into the bathroom. Her hands were trembling so violently she couldn't unbutton the buttons of her robe, so she ripped it open to reveal the Dark Mark above her heart. As she feared, it wasn't just a shadowy outline anymore, it was burning blood-red. As she watched it, it turned jet-black. Tears were streaming down her face, but not just from the pain. The physical torment she could endure, but the compulsion that went along with it would be her undoing. She had to go to Balin. Her need to find him was as frantic as was her need to find her mother when she was a four-year-old girl and had gotten separated from her in crowded Muggle Manchester—only this was a thousand times worse.

"But I don't know where you are!" she sobbed desperately.

Leave Hogwarts and I'll lead you to me.

"Then I am special to you."

Yes, my angel.

The pain became so unbearable she almost passed out, and the call became even more urgent. She thought of the Aurors surrounding the school, then spied her Nimbus Two Thousand Two propped up in the corner.

That's my clever girl.

Veronica threw open her window and was hit with a blast of freezing night air. She mounted her broom and flew out the window, the bitter winter wind ripping through the thin fabric of her robe, which did nothing to cool the burning in her chest. Within seconds of taking the air, she was flying at full speed over the lake and towards the main gate. She heard a shout below her.

"BY THE AUTHORITY OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC," boomed an Auror with the aid of a Sonorus Spell, "I ORDER YOU TO LAND IMMEDIATELY, OR I WILL BE FORCED TO FIRE UPON YOU!"

Almost there…

"STUPEFY!"

The Stunning Spell hit Veronica just as she passed the Apparition barrier. Her broom flew out from under her when she lost consciousness. She hurtled downward, but Disapparated just before she hit the ground.

*

Veronica found herself lying on her back on a cold stone floor, the pain in her chest as well as the compulsion now gone. She blinked and then opened her eyes fully. Above her loomed Professor Balin.

Balin leaned over her and smiled wickedly. "What a pleasure it is to see you again, Veronica. Did you miss me?"

Veronica let out a strangled cry as she half-crawled, half-ran away from him to the other side of the room. When she heard his mocking laughter, something clicked inside of her. She pulled out her wand and spun around. "AVADA KED—"

"Expelliarmus!"

The casually uttered Disarming Spell had not come from Balin, who had an unpleasantly surprised look on his face, his own wand only half-drawn. Veronica's wand flew out of her hands and into the pale, spider-like fingers of a figure sitting on a sumptuous chair on a stone dais…

Voldemort!

"Oh dear," she breathed.

Voldemort would have raised an eyebrow if he had one. "Is that all you can say, 'oh dear'? How very disappointing. I must say that curse you almost cast was worthy of an Auror." Voldemort turned to Balin. "It was a good thing I was here, Rupert, or you'd be dead right now."

Something in his tone made Veronica think that Voldemort would not have been too terribly upset if she had killed Balin. Well, that's encouraging.

Voldemort motioned for her to sit in the plainer chair next to his. "Would you like some tea, Veronica—may I call you Veronica?"

"Certainly," she said, laughing nervously. "May I call you Tom?" Veronica had spent many years as a Dark Arts researcher making sport of the Dark Lord, but now that she was finally in his daunting presence, she didn't feel much like calling him a Snake-faced Git and she got the distinct impression that she shouldn't have called him Tom.

His red eyes narrowed. "You didn't tell me she was such an insolent little creature."

"She seems to have grown worse over the years," Balin sneered. "Would you like me to torture her now, My Lord?"

"Where are your manners? Not before we've had our tea." Voldemort snapped his fingers. Veronica only then noticed that they were not alone. A short, balding wizard with watery eyes, not much older than herself, nodded curtly and rushed out of the room, apparently to fetch the tea. She also finally noticed the largest snake she had ever seen slithering towards the dais. Was it her imagination, or was the snake looking at her with hunger in its eyes?

The younger wizard brought in the tea tray a few moments later and poured two cups. The unreality of the situation was almost funny. Veronica briefly debated whether or not to accept anything to drink from Voldemort, but as both cups had been poured from the same teapot, there was little chance it had been adulterated. She wasn't so much worried about poison as she was about Veritaserum. She didn't know enough about the doings of the Order of the Phoenix to compromise their cause, but she did know enough to seal Severus' fate.

As they drank their tea in uncomfortable silence—uncomfortable for Veronica, that is—she tried to ignore Balin's lecherous stares and refused to even contemplate what he and Voldemort had planned for her. The Dark Lord put down his teacup and used Veronica's own wand to pull back the fabric of her robe so he could see the Dark Mark more clearly. "Careless work, Rupert. It's already fading to barely an outline."

"Perhaps it is because she was unworthy of receiving it," Balin offered.

"Perhaps it is because you were unworthy of bestowing it," Voldemort shot back angrily.

"You walked right into that one, Rupert," Veronica quipped.

Voldemort laughed.

Suddenly, Veronica felt herself being yanked out of the chair as if by an invisible hook. She flew the short distance across the room to Balin, who clamped his hand tightly around her throat. Veronica clawed at his hand and kicked her feet which were dangling several inches above the ground, finally making contact with his shin. Balin reversed the force of the spell, throwing her across the room and hard against the stone wall.

"Enough!" Voldemort rose and pulled a lethal looking dagger from his robe. "I think it's time we got down to business." He stood over Veronica menacingly. "Is Severus Snape in love with you?"

She broke out into panicky, high-pitched giggles. "Severus? In love with me?! Great gods, no! We can't stand the sight of each other."

Voldemort put the dagger to her throat. "I'm beginning to understand why you're a teacher instead of an Auror. You are an astonishingly bad liar. Wormtail!"

The short, balding wizard rushed forward.

"Hold out her right hand."

Wormtail reached for her with a gleaming silver hand and wrenched Veronica's hand out in front of her. She tried to pull away, but Wormtail's grip was too powerful. She was afraid he was going to break her wrist, but she was more concerned with what Voldemort was about to cut off. She shut her eyes tightly and steeled herself for the pain…

***