Chapter Twenty-One
Blood, Breakfast, and Broken Boils
Lucius grunted as he awoke from his sleep to find his arm completely numb. It was smothered by Reign as she lay across his chest with her leg wrapped around his lower body. He looked down at her peaceful face. Pools of tears still sat at the corners of her eyes, indicating that he hadn't been asleep for very long. He needed to get out of there. She was completely immersed in sleep, and if she hadn't thrown herself over him his escape would have been easy. But Lady Luck wasn't being particularly kind to him that night, and it took a great amount of effort to get out of bed without waking Reign. He picked up her arm with one hand and slipped her leg off with his other. A deep sigh escaped her lips as he slid out from under her and jumped out of bed. Upon turning to her, he noticed she had curled into a ball, now hugging the sheets around her as a replacement for his body. Lucius scowled. He hadn't been lying when he told her she was graceful, but as for strong and confident—she was nothing of the sort. She had succumbed to him just as he had planned. Almost too soon, even. But his plan had worked. He smirked at the vulnerable elf as she shuddered from lack of body heat. Her hair fell across her face, and on an impulse Lucius removed the strands. He looked from her face to her body hidden beneath the covers. A little voice inside his head was trying to convince him to do some very bad things. One of which would have killed him if he hadn't pushed it away. The Dark Lord would not want her now; it was too soon. So Lucius stood up and gathered his clothes. In the midst of their sleep, his sleeves had rolled up, revealing his Dark Mark. It was a miracle that she hadn't woken up to see it; or perhaps it was something else. Either way, he quickly rolled his sleeves down, just in case she would happen to wake at that very moment. Luckily she didn't. As he pulled on the rest of his clothes, she lay silently huddled under the sheets. The tears that were once gathered at her eyes now fell down her cheeks as she dreamt. The evil that flowed through his veins painted a horrendous smile across his face as he fastened his cloak and grabbed his cane. Just before he left, he scribbled a note to Reign and placed it on the pillow next to her. And next to that, he conjured a red rose. He took one last look at the elf, dismissing his lustful thoughts, and strode out of the room.
***
Reign's arm found the rose by mistake; it was searching for Lucius. The place where he had slept was cool to the touch, which meant that he hadn't been with her for some time. She awoke with a start, wondering if it had all been just a dream. But then she found the flower and the note, and knew that it wasn't.
Dearest Angel,
I am sorry for having to leave you so early in the morning, but I received a very urgent owl and had to report to the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible. I promise I will make it up to you. Until then, please accept this rose as my sincerest apology.
Affectionately yours,
Lucius
Reign smiled as she folded the note and brought the rose to her lips. It was soft on her skin—soft as silk, and just as sly. As she dropped it down to her lap, she reread the note. Urgent owl? How did an owl reach him in her rooms? She knew owls had an excellent sense of direction, but as she looked to the windows they were all closed, and the drapes were all drawn. No, she thought as she shook her head, you're just being paranoid. You can't doubt him anymore, remember? Remember last night? She closed her eyes as the memories came flooding back. That familiar tingling spread through her body as hot fire danced along her lips. He was a great kisser.
Reign threw back the covers and pranced to her wardrobe. As she dressed, she hummed an elvish tune played at marriage ceremonies to express the love between the bride and groom. When she went to the bathroom, however, she stopped. She looked into the mirror and found a foolish child looking back at her. What was she doing? She had said that they hardly knew each other, he had repeated it, and yet here she was humming a song of love all because she had been caught up in the heat of the moment. She had told herself that after Severus she would never love any human ever again.
The rose still rested in her hand. She ran a finger along its petals and down its stem.
"Ouch!" Blood was flowing steadily from her finger where it had been stabbed by one of the deadly sharp thorns of the flower. She put her finger in her mouth and let her saliva heal the wound. The blood tasted bitter on her tongue. She winced as it slid down her throat and burned into her stomach. When she pulled her finger out she wiped it on a towel next to the sink. It looked as if it had never been pricked; there was no gash or scar, but pain still throbbed beneath the skin. Reign stared curiously at her finger and then at the rose. Deep in her mind a voice told her it was a sign—that this rose alluded to Lucius and his facade, and the thorns represented the real him. But her heart refused to listen to her head, and after placing the rose in a vase she left her rooms and headed down to breakfast.
***
"What's gotten into you?" Helena asked as Reign hopped to her seat at the staff table. It was the first time she had entered the Great Hall in a pleasant mood and it perplexed all those who had noticed. Even Snape's usual scowl had slipped from his face as he eyed her inquisitively on her way in.
"Nothing, why?"
"You just seem...different." Reign smiled.
"Well, let's just say...I had a really good night's sleep." Helena gasped.
"Did you talk to Professor Snape?" Reign picked up on her hint and laughed.
"Yes, we talked. But no, Helena. I know what you're thinking." The professor sat back, slightly disappointed. She was always up for gossip. "I didn't sleep with anybody." She reached for the sausage and mumbled, "At least not like that." A hand flew up and slapped her arm. Helena leaned in and whispered,
"Reign, what are you going on about?" She just smiled and Helena shook her head. Reign took a bite of the sausage and spat it back out on her plate. Yes she was different, but not that different. Fried pig was not her idea of an ideal breakfast.
Severus watched her as he sipped his morning coffee. Her new aura disappointed him. He wanted her to be just as miserable as he was—and she had been, for a time—but now she smiled enormously as she ate her fruit. He didn't think their last conversation would have such an odd affect on her; on the contrary, he expected the opposite. He hadn't run after her when she walked away, hadn't even called to her, but she acted like she didn't care. Almost as if--
He slammed his cup down on the table, startling Professor Flitwick.
As if there was someone else, he thought. Someone like...Lucius.
"Son of a bitch!" he shouted as he slammed his fist into the wood. It wasn't loud enough for the students to hear over their own chatter, but several of the teachers looked up at him in astonishment. He didn't return their surprised looks. After throwing back his chair he stalked out of the room, slamming the door to the dungeons behind him.
When Reign looked up Severus was gone. She hadn't seen his outburst, but perhaps if she had she would have smiled. Perhaps—if she couldn't win him back with affection and begging—she could make him jealous.
***
Helena walked swiftly through the castle and down to the dungeons. Coming upon the Potions master's office door, she paused with her hand on the handle. Behind the wood she could here yelling and mumbling, glass breaking and heavy objects being thrown against other heavy objects. She hesitated—not completely sure if she was in her right mind—but decided to risk opening the door anyway. As she did a large beaker was flung at her head and she ducked right before it hit her between the eyes; it smashed against the door instead, shattering into bits and pieces of sharp glass and sticky liquid. She stood up and saw a monster before her eyes.
Snape's eyes were ablaze. His hair was mangled and he was breathing like an enraged animal. All the color had been drained from his face. His eyebrows were drawn together as he screamed at her.
"HAVEN'T YOU EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING!?" Helena stumbled back as if a tornado had just hit her.
"I'm s-so sorry, Professor. I--"
"You what?" he whispered menacingly. Professor Saxon's hand went to the door handle.
"I was just leaving." She spun quickly around and opened the door. The broken glass slid across the floor as the heavy wood pushed it away.
"Wait." Helena shuddered at his suddenly silky tone. She turned slowly around to face her old Professor, who had unclenched his fists and smoothed back his greasy hair. "Sit." She didn't need any other direction, and quickly sat in the chair opposite his desk. He lowered himself into his seat and stared at her. She felt herself shrinking into the fabric of the chair as his eyes bore into hers. "Well?" he sneered. Helena held her breath as she looked for the right words.
"Please, sir. I'm worried about Reign--" she was interrupted by an evil laugh.
"HA! I assure you, Professor Saxon, Reign is the last person on this earth that needs to be worried about."
"I know. I mean, I know about you and her." Snape snorted.
"Of course you do."
"She told me how she's been so miserable without you…how badly she has missed you…how she'd do anything to get you back--" The man snorted again. Helena was getting irritated. "Severus, if you will just let me explain." Her tone silenced the Professor. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "She even talked about ending her life. But this morning, it was as if she had been reborn. I asked her if she talked to you, and she said she had. But it was almost as if--"
"There was someone else?" he interrupted with a smirk. Helena paused and tilted her head.
"Well, yes." Severus shook his head as the woman leaned in. "Do you know who it is?" The Potions master leaned in, mocking her curiosity. Their noses nearly touched as he whispered,
"Lucius Malfoy."
"LUCIUS MALFOY?"
"Lucius Malfoy."
"Lucius MALFOY? What would she be doing with that evil son of a--" Severus laughed again. Helena stopped and pointed at him. "She's not...trying to make you...jealous, is she?"
"Who knows with her," Snape replied, looking down at his hands. His head snapped up as Helena slammed her fists into his desk, similar in emotion to what he had done earlier.
"You HAVE to stop her." The man got slowly up from his chair.
"And why should I do that, Professor Saxon?" Their faces were close again. Helena could feel his breath on her skin and she shuddered again at the sound of his voice. But she was strong, and drew back, throwing up her arms as she spoke.
"BECAUSE! Who KNOWS what Malfoy is planning on doing with her!" She pointed at him again. "You HAVE to do something!" Severus ignored her pleading and turned to his back to her, scanning his shelves for some non-existent ingredient.
"Reign is no longer any of my concern, Helena." The woman walked quickly to him and grabbed his shoulders, spinning him around to face her.
"She is my friend, Severus. I know she is vulnerable, but I will be damned if I let Lucius Malfoy do something horrible to her."
"Why don't you speak to her about it then?" Helena paused as she thought.
"No. She would listen to you. She still loves you; I can see it. Besides, its obvious that--"
"That what?"
"That you still love her," came a voice from the shadows. Both professors followed the sound to a young woman standing at the doorway of the office that led to his classroom.
"Miss Decatur, how good to see you," Helena said pleasantly as Caelan entered the room and stood next to her. Both women then crossed their arms and stared matter-of-factly at Severus.
"Two to one, Professor—you're overruled. Go talk to her," Caelan demanded.
"Miss Decatur, you have some nerve giving me orders," Snape replied menacingly. But Caelan didn't budge. The women looked at each other and smiled. Then they turned back to Severus.
"Well?" they said in unison. They could see the blood boiling behind his eyes, his nails digging into his palms, his body beginning to shake. His tight lips parted just slightly as he spoke.
"I will NOT be told what to do by two women." Now it was Helena and Caelan who started to get angry. Decatur dropped her arms and took a step forward, ready to give him a good knock up-side the head, but Helena held out her arm and stopped her.
"Severus, for Christ's sake will you just swallow your pride for once in your life? We may be talking about someone's survival here!" Snape looked from one woman to the other, his scowl diminishing and his body relaxing.
"Very well," he whispered. "I will think about it."
"That's all we ask," said Caelan.
"You," he sneered at the girl, "get back to class." Decatur snorted as she walked out of the office. Severus came out from behind his desk and strode to his classroom door. Helena followed him.
"Severus...thank you."
"I haven't done anything yet." Helena looked away.
"Yes, but...I have confidence in you. I mean, now that I look back on it, Reign seemed so happy back when we were in school, around the time you two were...together. I think she really did love you." Severus shook his tired head. "And I think she still does. She's been through a lot, and she's confused...and wounded, in a way." The man rolled his eyes, but Helena ignored the motion. "I think you can heal her." Snape looked up into her eyes; Helena Saxon had always been the innocent one. Never exceedingly bright, but very compassionate. She would have made a good Hufflepuff. Severus nodded to her and walked through the door.
"I hope you can heal her," Helena whispered as she watched him go.
