Author's Note: Again, slightly edited chapter for your amusement and enjoyment. The title comes from the old gypsy curse: "May you get everything you want." Now, when you get to the end of this chapter, you're going to notice a review button- want to hit it and tell me what you think of it?

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Gypsies Curse

            The club was located in the center of a posh, urbane neighborhood. Dia de los Meutros, Day of the Dead, was inscribed in gaudy gold script over the door with a skeleton embracing the name, and inside the bar large, colorful portraits and memorabilia of death littered the walls. The walls were painted in bright reds and blues; true to the Mexican holiday but that's where the homage to religious aspect ended. Pictures of public hangings, prints of medieval torture devices, and eyewitness testimonies from famous deaths littered the walls. There were real artifacts from famous serial killers, personal items worn by famous assassinated politicians, bloodied and bullet riddled shirts from gangsters and Mafioso on display behind glass classes for the patrons to gawk at. The bar itself was imported, supposedly from an old western saloon, and still had the nicks from flying knifes or bullets. The glass behind the bar was inscribed with words that no Muggle would recognize but anyone magical would understand; over and over were three phrase: Crucio, Imperio, Avada Kedrava.

            The main rooms were open to the general public, the bar fed out into the dance floor and there was a small, quieter lounge behind it (made to look like a prison cell) but the upstairs was reserved for the owner's private uses. The balcony was decorated with only what the magical could fully appreciate. An Auror's uniform, stained with blood and sporting a gapping hole over the chest was the first thing that greeted guests when they came from the spiral stairs. Wands from fallen Aurors and Dark Lords were displayed in charmed glass, much as their non-magical counterparts were downstairs.

            And finally, over the rows of plush couches that were pushed against three fourths of the wall were the 'death masks' of famous Aurors, replicas of their faces displayed like deer heads in a hunter's den.

            This was Silas Malfoy's crown jewel.

            "Mr. Malfoy, what do you say to people who claim your newest club is nothing more then the epitome of bad taste and blatant disregard for the general public?" The Daily Prophet reporter, Marissa DeWitt asked, making every attempt not to be instantly wooed by Silas' bright, penetrating eyes. "They say the fact you've named this bar after the most bloody and horrific attack on Aurors and governments in recent history, an attack that I might want to remind you is only three years old. Hecate Compound itself has come out and called this place a mockery to those who died on that day. What do you say to these charges?"

            Silas merely smiled one of his classic smiles and leaned forward, placing his hand on her thigh. "Miss DeWitt, do you like ghost stories?"

            The Reporter blinked, nervously. "I…I…I'm sorry?"

            "When you were young, I mean. Did you ever stay up late listening to them and probably scaring yourself silly in the process? It was fun, wasn't it? Everyday your newspaper is filled with stories of the Dark Lord, his demonic Prince and the daring attacks of their Death Eaters and do you know why? But everyone is attracted to the evilness that each of those figures represent. Think about it, the very name Dark Prince conjures of an image of some dark, deeply handsome figure ready and willing to steal away young virgins from their beds. It's one hell of an image to sell newspapers with, I'll tell you." Silas leaned back, motioning for one of the waiters to refill his drink. "This place is macabre and dark because that is what would sell it. Look around you, you can't tell me you don't look on my trophies without the tiniest bit of fascination and awe.  It's something brute and basic within all of us that attracts us to this." He smiled again. "Maybe that's why it's so unpopular with the old farts but, I didn't build it for them. I built it for the young…those who are willing to see the darkness within each of us."

            DeWitt had stopped transcribing Silas' speech to stare pointedly into his arresting blue eyes. His voice lowered as he spoke, watching her lean forward to absorb every word he uttered like if it was the most vital thing in the world to her. He leaned to her to compensate her, smiling, as her lips got closer to his.

            "Be careful, Miss DeWitt." Severus Snape whispered as he entered the room, removing his outer robe and smiling at her. "Those who gaze into the abyss too long will find the abyss gazing into them."

            DeWitt nearly jumped out of her chair, toppling over the drink she had on the table. Silas laughed, and glanced at Severus. "Severus, you're late. I'm disappointed. It's opening day and you weren't here for the ribbon cutting."

            "I apologize Silas, I got caught up at work. Vargas is set on finding an antidote for Ptolemy's Curse and I was stuck helping her third years purify hemlock." Snape said, his eyes taking in the private room. Lucius was sitting in the far end with Narcissa near him, both engaged in some in dept conversation and didn't so much as acknowledge his arrival. He shook his head at their impropriety and turned his full attention to the faces of sleeping heroes around him.

            His eyes found and settled on the head of Kaiser Snape, his father, complete with Vampire bite wounds on his neck. He swallowed slightly, hand going to his own neck and rubbing it gingerly.

            Silas' eyes followed his. "Oh! Sorry, Severus…" The Malfoy stood, taking off his coat and throwing it over the face like a coat rack. "I'll have it removed when you're coming around."

            "How thoughtful of you."

            "You know me, anything for you."

            "Professor Snape!" DeWitt started, picking up her quill again. "As the son of Aurors…"

            "Dead Aurors."

            "…And a former Auror yourself, what do you say to this disrespect to fallen heroes?"

            Snape looked up at the faces again. "I can't say I really hear them complaining."

            DeWitt lowered her quill, and tilted her head. "So you don't agree with Master Hawke when she says the Dark Lord is going to look on this place as a shrine to his victory?"

            "I can't say I've asked him what he's thought of this club. If I ever met him, I'll do that for you though." Snape smiled. "If you like."

            "You are all monsters." DeWitt seethed, quietly.

            "Well, that's it then." Silas drawled, smiling alluringly at the waitress that had come to clean up DeWitt's spilled drink and refill his. "It's time we admitted it. She's found us out."

            "Admit what, Silas?" Snape asked, looking at DeWitt. A look of polite confusion ran over his features before he finally nodded. "Oh I know…" He stood up straight and bowed his head. "I admit it, milady. I am the Lindbergh baby."

            "No, Sev." Silas chided. "Not that one! The other one." He glanced at DeWitt. "He's the Dark Prince, and I am a Death Eater. This whole place, it really is a shrine to the Dark Lord's victory over the Aurors three years ago. I am just too bold and arrogant to really care about what Hecate may say about it."

            DeWitt was speechless. She glanced at Severus who nodded in agreement with Silas.  He smiled at her timidly, "It's true, but I forgot my mask at home though. Sorry."

            She grabbed her quill, and moved to stuff her notes and papers into her purse. "I don't believe you! After all those men and women have done for you, you just joke about something like that! Some of them died for you and you treat their lost as some fucked up tourist attraction for people who are just as sick inside as you!" She seethed before storming out of the lounge.

            Snape watched her go, shaking his head. "It's a shame but she's right you know."

            "About what?"

            "We're all mad here."

            "That's what the Cheshire cat said." Silas said, finishing off his drink and reaching into his coat for a snuffbox. His eyes were already glassed over from too much booze and drugs and probably had been like that for the majority of the day.

Snape, knowing how protective Silas was of his cocaine, decided to move towards Narcissa and Lucius. He kneeled beside Narcissa, whispering into her ear, "How long was DeWitt here?"

"I don't know." She said, waving her hand dismissively at him. "A couple of hours, I guess- long enough for Silas to try and get into her pants. They had dinner before coming up here." She attempted to turn back to Lucius but Snape grabbed her wrist, and squeezed.

"Were you with him?"

"No, I have no intention of being publicly embarrassed. Would you?"

"I don't care if you're embarrassed or not." He put his other hand dangerously close to her neck. "If I ever see you and Lucius molesting each other in a corner while Silas is in the spotlight again I promise you'll regret it, Narcissa. I will not have one of my lieutenants made a fool of by his wife and brother."

"He doesn't need our help."

"Exactly!" Snape tightened his grip on her wrist. "It's bad enough Silas has shamed himself like he has but I won't have him slipping any of my Lord's secrets so next time he's the center of attention, you'll be right by his side as Ms. Martha Homemaker, understand?"

She was whimpering now from the pain. "Yeah…"

"What?"

"Yes!" She cried as he released her. "My Prince."

"Now, take your husband home and help him sleep it off." Snape glanced at Lucius. "I have business with your boyfriend."

Narcissa glared at him but did as she was told. Severus watched her go before sitting down and looking at Lucius. The Malfoy was staring at him, trying to find words through his anger to speak in protest. It was no secret that Lucius cared the world for Narcissa and always had, from the moment he had laid eyes on her, but his brother, ever the playboy, had gotten to her first. Secretly, Snape admired Lucius' devotion to Narcissa, despite the fact everyone knew Narcissa was utterly committed to Silas, regardless of his continued infidelity. Quite simply put, it was impossible to deny Silas anything. He was so charming and attractive that you wanted to please him. Lucius knew this too and it broke his heart every time he saw them together.

"I know." Snape said before Lucius could speak. "But a little discretion is in order."

"How can I be discreet for something that doesn't exist?"

"By not staring at her longingly could help." Snape raised a hand before Lucius spoke. "But curse me for her sake some other time. I have a job for you."

Lucius took a long time to wipe the glare off his face. "I am at your service, my Prince."

"Do you know who Janis Sorelle is?"

"She's Chancellor of the International Wizarding Confederation, I hear Victoria Hawke and Albus Dumbledore are among her closest advisors."

"Right, and as one of the leading voices for the Magical Community, everyone trusts her judgment and respects her leadership." Snape drawled, pulling out an envelope from his cloak. "I want you to kill her."

"Not that I'm complaining or scared but…" Lucius torn open the envelope and read over its contents. It was the Chancellor's itinerary for the night and the words to circumvent the charms around her office. "…This is going to throw the IWC into action. They're going to make the Aurors and Hit Wizards begin sweeps and raids." He tucked the papers into his coat and rose. "They are going to come after us with a vengeance."

"Let them come," Severus said, looking over Lucius to smile at some new visitor. "I could use a good fight."

  Lucius turned back and saw who had captured Snape's attention. "You know, you're a fine one to speak to me of discretion."

"Shut up and get out."

"Yes sir." The youngest Malfoy retreated towards the spiral stairs. He bowed to Melanie as she passed him but the woman had her gaze set on Severus alone. 

Melanie crossed straight into Severus' arms and buried her face into his chest. She closed her eyes and smiled, "Who is Lucius going to visit?"

"It doesn't matter." He buried his nose into her hair and inhaled, smiling blissfully. "I only came her to see you anyways, come home with me."

"I can't…and you know it." She said, pulling away. "Lord Vold-"

"I don't care about what Voldemort wants," He cut her off. "I miss having you beside me at night. Come with me."

"We can't keep doing this." She whispered, stealing glances to the waitresses that were cleaning up the room. "Tom would kill us both if he knew."

            "I don't fear him, not with you with me." He smiled at her and stepped away. "Look around you, Melanie…the world is mine. I am the Dark Prince. No one can touch or hurt me. Do you really think Voldemort can afford to kill me? I've created his kingdom…" He pulled her to him again. "I am the Dark Lord, Voldemort has become just a figurehead!" His voice took on a gentle, almost fatherly tone as if he was talking to a child that had to be instructed in everything. "Now, you're going to come with me tonight, and Babbitt will cook us some dinner and tonight we'll sleep together. And we'll be happy and everything will be right in the world."
            Melanie let him hug her tight once more before he released her and went to bottom floor, probably to leave more last minute instructions with various Death Eaters before retiring for the night. She smiled softly; the past three years had been kind to Snape. Since Day of the Dead, Snape had fought and bleed to earn what he had received in shame: the title of the Dark Prince. He had risen from the ashes of his former self and had become something worthy of that title. As the Prince, he was a warrior who was as cultured as he was cruel, as dangerous as he was debonair. He was Voldemort's second in command, his heir apparent and the general of his armies, someone without equal and respected by both friend and foe. His name was uttered with the same fear that Voldemort himself possessed.

But she knew the accomplishment that was most important in Snape's eyes was the fact that he had her again. They were seeing each other in secret Snape was quite certain he was going to spend the rest of his life with her. But with everything that he had wanted came a pride and brashness that paralleled Silas' own. He believed he was without equal and undefeatable.

And while part of Melanie was enjoyed that brashness; she viewed it as a direct result of her grooming, she was also concerned about him. She could see his enemies, even if he couldn't and she worried just how those enemies would chose a path of attack.

She had gone through great pains to make Severus into the creature he was now and she would be damned if anyone tried to take him from her.