A/N: Well, another Thursday, another update... I made it on time again!!!
::congratulates herself:: More flashbacks in this chapter, I hope it won't
be a problem for anyone. Thanks and thanks again to all my reviewers, you
don't know how happy you comments make me... ::gives the watery look and
sappy smile::
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters, you already know that, and I'm not making any profit out of this, unless you count as a profit the tingly feeling I get when I read your reviews...
Rating: PG-13 just to be on the safe side (I don't think people make much of the rating anyway...)
PART VIII
"I can't believe it" muttered Harry softly, going through the Muggle Literature section of the Library. He was trying to distract his mind from the dreadful memories raised by Dumbledore's mention of the Dursleys: Harry had hated the trio, but he had never wished their death, even less by a troupe of fortune-soldiers who were going after him, worried by nothing except their salary. He remembered going into the silent house, leaving the packages he had been out to buy in the kitchen, trying to find Aunt Petunia to deliver the change and entering the living room... he had stayed frozen in the doorway until the Aurors had arrived, alerted by Mrs Figg. He could still see the lifeless bodies, strewn about in the floor, Aunt Petunia's over Dudley, in her last futile attempt to save her son, the horrified expression of Uncle Vernon... "Here it is"
Taking a antique edition of 'The Three Musketeers' with him, Harry walked over to a table and started leafing through the book. With little effort he found what he was looking for: Milady's description, and the scene that talked about her mark and her role as Richelieu's spy. Were Les Fleurs du Mal common knowledge in the 19th century, or what? He was distracted by the majestic entrance of Svetlana Snape, carrying a few rolls of parchment and a thin leather bag with her. Sitting in the area farthest from the Restricted Section, she set down to work in a drawing she had left half- done, ignoring the hushed whispers coming from the students, or Madam Pince's inquiring stare. With a start, Harry noticed he was criminally late for Quidditch practice, and ran off, giving a last over-the-shoulder look to the impassive woman sitting under the light of one of the tall windows.
Svetlana was angry; she was trying to calm herself down, immersing her mind in the detailed drawing of a Chinese Fireball, but she still remembered the conversation she had had the day before with her husband, and she had the sudden urge to smash something to bits. Refraining the violent itch, like every lady of good family should, she looked over to where the Potter boy had been trying to burn a lightning-shaped hole into her forehead; he was gone now, fortunately, but he had left an ancient-looking book on the table, its gold-rimmed pages glistening temptingly in the sun. Wondering what the annoying young man could have been reading, Svetlana summoned the volume to her table, still open where Harry had left it. Her blue eyes widened considerable when she saw what was written there, and she felt rivulets of cold sweat running down her straight back.
//They can't know// she reasoned, trying to stop the rush of adrenaline crashing through her veins. No-one could know: there weren't any clues, any loose knots to tie her to Milady. The tattoo on her shoulder could be dismissed as a simple coincidence, after all, by none it was known that it was the only symbol given and received by the members of Les Fleurs du Mal. //Not the only thing they've given me, though... though I would have never resorted to it simply as a way to earn money... it'd be lowly of me to do so! It was a way to distract myself from my self-pity, to spend my time in some other way than looking after Serguei, to avoid wasting everything I had learned at Beauxbottoms.. and who am I fooling? It was a way to prove to the world, and to Severus, that I was worth it//
Svetlana remembered the evening that Lucius had tentatively approached her while Narcissa, Draco and Serguei were giving a stroll round the gardens of Malfoy Manor.
Flashback
"You have a lot of free time in your hands now, don't you, Svetlana?" said Lucius, helping her to her second cup of tea; he took her hand in his and she gave him an inquiring glance, not answering "I mean, Serguei is very independent for a four-year-old and you have trained your house elves very well"
"Yes, I know" she answered blandly, not knowing what he was aiming towards.
"So, are those pretty fingers still as nimble as they used to be? Narcissa told me you were one of the best students of your year" Lucius took hold of each one of Svetlana's fingers in turn and smiled to her; the witch didn't smile in return, feeling there was more to those words than just polite conversation over tea.
"I don't do as much magic as I used to..." admitted Svetlana after a moment "It's not necessary to train anymore"
"It is a pity to throw all that potential to waste" commented the blond wizard, dropping Svetlana's hand and watching the return of his wife through the garden "More tea?"
Two months later, Svetlana was invited to a dinner-party in the Malfoy state. She had attended gladly, eager to alternate with the best society again and be showered with Lucius' compliments. During the cocktail that followed the meal, she had found herself paired with an elegant wizard, about forty-years old, sporting one of the most dangerous smiles Svetlana had ever seen, and she was Severus' wife after all. The wizard, called Raymond Le Carré, had a charming conversation, and he managed to keep Svetlana amused until a walk round the gardens was proposed by the hosts. Strolling around the flowering shrubs, under the mellow summer night- breeze, he began to engage her into a more serious conversation, which ended up with him towering over her, all shadow of a smile gone.
"Svetlana, we can offer you the chance of a lifetime. We can give you more than you could wish for, and not only in terms of money. Do you want to buy yourself a diamond choker like the one Patricia Parkinson was wearing today? Do you want to indulge your son's fancies? Do you want to prove yourself to the world, or should I say, to a certain Potions Master in particular?"
"How do you know about Severus?" asked Svetlana, blushing in the midst of panic "He's out of my life now, for ever..."
"Wouldn't you just love to see his face if he sees you again, rich, beautiful, self-assured, not needing him? You can make him regret the day he left you, Svetlana. And besides, wouldn't it be a pity to abandon all those skills you worked so hard at achieving? Remember how you were first in your class in DADA, first in Charms, first in Potions. You are an admirable witch, Svetlana, and we need you"
"Who's *we*?" she asked, feeling the temptation growing inside of her ambitious self.
"I can't tell you that yet, Svetlana" Raymond seemed almost sorry, his charming façade back in place.
"I don't want to have anything to do with the Dark Arts; I had more than enough seeing my friends die as Death Eaters..."
"We're above that, Svetlana. There is no right or wrong for us, there's only power" Raymond was a very persuasive person, and this particular prey wasn't putting up much of a resistance.
End flashback
Svetlana shook her head to dismiss those old memories. It had been a long time ago, that conversation. Afterwards came the training, the extenuating, cruelly efficient training, using an illegal Time-Turner to avoid Serguei noticing her absences, and discovering more about the Dark Arts than many of her old school-friends that had turned into fully-fledged Death Eaters; she had learnt criminal curses that would have her in Azkaban before she could utter a protest, she had practised the Unforgivables until she could do them in her sleep, she had brewed poisons, learnt martial arts and other physical defences, and even trained with Muggle weapons. When she had become but a vague resemblance of her former timid self, she had sworn loyalty and secrecy, and received the tattoo from the hands of the leader of Les Fleurs (she knew his name, but she always referred to him as 'The Old Man of the Mountain' in a reference to a somehow misguiding Muggle classic). And then came the missions, twelve up to date, each leaving a trail of dead bodies and another star in her shoulder.
She picked up the drawing she had finished while thinking, and started towards the dungeon to pick up Siena. She wasn't afraid anymore. Les Fleurs took many precautions to avoid getting its members caught and tried, and she had been well trained to that respect: resistance to Veritaserum had come after drinking it non-stop for six months; the pain of the Cruciatus had been inflicted upon her enough times to consider it an old-friend, and, if all else should fail, there was one final precaution that wouldn't... the noise of a group of Hufflepuff students chattering noisily distracted her from her thoughts and spurred her to silence them with a glare. It worked, and Svetlana continued her way in a calmer state, convinced that the Potter boy wouldn't be a problem.
"Don't walk away from me like that" requested Snape as Svetlana prepared herself to leave after dinner; she had left Siena in bed, tidied her desk in discordance to the clutter of notes and parchments over her husband's table, and was now just in front of her bedroom door, hand on the handle.
"Excuse me?" she asked, with the tone she might have used for an insolent sales-clerk.
"I said: 'Don't walk away from me like that'" repeated the Potions Master, giving a stern look to the witch sharing his living-quarters.
"I heard what you said" she answered over her shoulder "From where has that strange idea come to your mind"
"Which one? To ask you to stay here, or to think you might have been avoiding my presence?" Snape was not a man to be easily deterred, not even by his wife.
"Both"
"Svetlana, stop it. It isn't making this any easier" To Hell with the thought of having a polite conversation over tea; someday they would run out of meaningful conversations to have //And then what?// thought Snape, dismissing the thought quickly.
"Must I assume you find my attitude irritating? If that should be the case, I would be more than happy to request another set of living quarters from Professor Dumbledore; after all, I don't see why we should continue to intrude in your life, when you have made it so clear you want us out"
"Svetlana!" Chastising look, lost in the stone wall those blue eyes held.
"I am sure Hogwarts holds another habitable room which is not within the perimeter of your beloved dungeons, and where Siena and I might make our residence without fearing our every step will be an annoyance to some" Where on Earth had she come up with such an elaborate language? It almost resembled Snape's when he was telling off some Gryffindors.
"Is that what you want? For me to throw you out, so you can play the part of the helpless victim once again?!" Snape lost all memory that it had all started out as an attempt to make polite chit-chat.
"I never played the part; I once *was* a helpless victim and, believe me, I never will repeat the experience" Svetlana was holding her own well; maybe her right foot was tapping nervously on the carpet a bit too much, and her lower lip carried the danger of being bruised from where she was biting into it, but that was nothing compared to Severus' flared nostrils, blazing eyes and fisted hands.
"I said I'm sorry" he spat through clenched teeth. The expected reply came out a nanosecond after the question had been uttered.
"Do you think it's enough?"
"I'm making an effort here, Svetlana, for both our sakes, and the children's'"
"Maybe the effort is showing too much" she shrugged, looking away, almost longingly, to the door she was wanting to cross; there were words that needed to be said before that, though.
"At least I'm making an effort, unlike some"
"If that is an insinuation that you have *ever* found me uncooperative, Severus Snape, you are going to pay dearly for it" It certainly took a very well-trained mercenary to stand up and intimidate the Hogwarts Potions master with such cool as Mrs Snape had.
Snape seemed aware of the incongruous attitude of his wife, but the shock of him being threatened by some other than the two most powerful wizards in existence (Dumbledore and Voldemort were the only ones who had dared raised their voices to an angry Snape and lived to tell the tale) left him speechless and open-mouthed while he digested the shock. He had expected a grown woman, maybe even a confident one, although there was nothing in the Svetlana he remembered to indicate it, but not this fearless stranger who was staring him down in his own living-room.
Svetlana almost allowed herself a small congratulatory smile as a rich voiced replayed some words into her head //'Wouldn't you just love to see his face if he sees you again, rich, beautiful, self-assured, not needing him? You can make him regret the day he left you, Svetlana.'//
"I didn't mean that" Snape found himself saying, much against his will.
"I thought so" answered Svetlana blandly, knowing she couldn't push the proud Slytherin much further.
"What the Hell are you playing at, Svetlana?" asked an exasperated Severus, letting himself fall into his armchair.
"I'm playing your part, and you don't seem to be enjoying playing mine... I wonder why that is?" This was the time Svetlana had been waiting for, and she could already taste triumph as her husband's blank face turned to her.
"My part?" he asked unbelievingly, eyes remote as memories started pouring down on him.
Flashback
Svetlana, lower lip trembling, watching as he strode by without sparing her a glance the morning after their wedding.
Svetlana, trying to tell him something, her soft voice drowned by the noise of the door slammed shut behind him as he exited the room, three months after the marriage.
Svetlana, cowering behind a coffee-table as he snarled down to her, his sarcastic remarks eating through her brave façade like acid through parchment, when she had told him she was pregnant.
Svetlana looking at him in fear, anger and longing as he told her he was leaving, not to come back again.
End flashback
"Playing my part" repeated Severus, a grimace wanting to be a smirk on his face. Svetlana looked at him and the content smile she was hiding showed through slightly: this was where she wanted him, defeated, guilty, feeling what she had felt all those times. "Where *did* you learn to play my part, Svetlana?"
"Life can teach you many things if you look for them" A cryptic and melodramatic answer, she knew, but it wasn't as if she could confess any of her activities to her husband.
"Life can teach you to play the part of a heartless bastard only if you ask for it" countered Snape, feeling on shaky territory.
"Even a weak-willed and timid creature like me can learn that, given enough time, and twelve years is just it" Svetlana stood by her doorway, her tone hard and cold as she faced Snape, who had stood up again.
"Will you stop blaming me for every misfortune to happen in your life?!" he snarled, his patience wearing thin.
"Why should I take the blame for what you did?" She was still speaking in a soft, dangerous tone.
"Stop lying to yourself! If you wanted to change, fine, but face the consequences of your actions..."
"Funny you should tell me that" she spat, giving a well-measured step towards him "You, who ran away from his responsibilities, who hid from the consequences of his actions for as long as life allowed him to. You, who were cowardly enough to avoid confrontation with my father, and chose to marry me instead... did you stay to watch what happened afterwards, or did you rather run to hide in this filthy dungeons, where you've become the shadow of a human being?"
"Don't start with the personal insults now, Svetlana" warned Severus, knowing he was bound to lose in that territory "I could as well ask you what you didn't want to tell me the other night, the origins of the wealth you seem so fond in showing off. Or how come that when I went back to you that night, you seemed to have learnt how to kiss all of a sudden..."
That was too much, and both knew it. Pale with rage, Svetlana reached for her wand, but stopped mid-movement when she noticed that the door to Siena's bedroom door was slightly open, and a pair of bright blue eyes were peering through. Seeing that she had been caught, the little girl pushed the door ajar and looked, with tear-brimmed eyes, at both her parents.
"Siena!" said Svetlana, putting down her wand, too late. The little girl gave her mother a reproachful look and the witch had to look to the floor; Severus was already petrified, both remembering what he had said and how his daughter had looked at him. After a tense moment, Svetlana recovered her voice, albeit soft and apologetic "Let's go back to bed, Siena. I'm sorry, baby; we didn't mean to wake you..."
"No sleep!" protested Siena, crossing her tiny arms over her nightshirt. "You stop fighting!" That was how Svetlana used to tell both her children off all the time, and she smiled bitterly at the irony.
"Come on: to bed, Siena. We're sorry, but that doesn't meant you'll get to be up till midnight" Svetlana went into the little girl's bedroom, picked her up and put her to sleep. With a hesitant look between both doors in the room, she chose the one to the right and closed it behind her, avoiding any further discussion with Severus as she locked herself in her bedroom.
----------------------- A/N: Who would have thought she was such a coward? Hiding from Sevvie? ::tsk, tsk, tsk::... Did you like? ::Hopeful look::
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters, you already know that, and I'm not making any profit out of this, unless you count as a profit the tingly feeling I get when I read your reviews...
Rating: PG-13 just to be on the safe side (I don't think people make much of the rating anyway...)
PART VIII
"I can't believe it" muttered Harry softly, going through the Muggle Literature section of the Library. He was trying to distract his mind from the dreadful memories raised by Dumbledore's mention of the Dursleys: Harry had hated the trio, but he had never wished their death, even less by a troupe of fortune-soldiers who were going after him, worried by nothing except their salary. He remembered going into the silent house, leaving the packages he had been out to buy in the kitchen, trying to find Aunt Petunia to deliver the change and entering the living room... he had stayed frozen in the doorway until the Aurors had arrived, alerted by Mrs Figg. He could still see the lifeless bodies, strewn about in the floor, Aunt Petunia's over Dudley, in her last futile attempt to save her son, the horrified expression of Uncle Vernon... "Here it is"
Taking a antique edition of 'The Three Musketeers' with him, Harry walked over to a table and started leafing through the book. With little effort he found what he was looking for: Milady's description, and the scene that talked about her mark and her role as Richelieu's spy. Were Les Fleurs du Mal common knowledge in the 19th century, or what? He was distracted by the majestic entrance of Svetlana Snape, carrying a few rolls of parchment and a thin leather bag with her. Sitting in the area farthest from the Restricted Section, she set down to work in a drawing she had left half- done, ignoring the hushed whispers coming from the students, or Madam Pince's inquiring stare. With a start, Harry noticed he was criminally late for Quidditch practice, and ran off, giving a last over-the-shoulder look to the impassive woman sitting under the light of one of the tall windows.
Svetlana was angry; she was trying to calm herself down, immersing her mind in the detailed drawing of a Chinese Fireball, but she still remembered the conversation she had had the day before with her husband, and she had the sudden urge to smash something to bits. Refraining the violent itch, like every lady of good family should, she looked over to where the Potter boy had been trying to burn a lightning-shaped hole into her forehead; he was gone now, fortunately, but he had left an ancient-looking book on the table, its gold-rimmed pages glistening temptingly in the sun. Wondering what the annoying young man could have been reading, Svetlana summoned the volume to her table, still open where Harry had left it. Her blue eyes widened considerable when she saw what was written there, and she felt rivulets of cold sweat running down her straight back.
//They can't know// she reasoned, trying to stop the rush of adrenaline crashing through her veins. No-one could know: there weren't any clues, any loose knots to tie her to Milady. The tattoo on her shoulder could be dismissed as a simple coincidence, after all, by none it was known that it was the only symbol given and received by the members of Les Fleurs du Mal. //Not the only thing they've given me, though... though I would have never resorted to it simply as a way to earn money... it'd be lowly of me to do so! It was a way to distract myself from my self-pity, to spend my time in some other way than looking after Serguei, to avoid wasting everything I had learned at Beauxbottoms.. and who am I fooling? It was a way to prove to the world, and to Severus, that I was worth it//
Svetlana remembered the evening that Lucius had tentatively approached her while Narcissa, Draco and Serguei were giving a stroll round the gardens of Malfoy Manor.
Flashback
"You have a lot of free time in your hands now, don't you, Svetlana?" said Lucius, helping her to her second cup of tea; he took her hand in his and she gave him an inquiring glance, not answering "I mean, Serguei is very independent for a four-year-old and you have trained your house elves very well"
"Yes, I know" she answered blandly, not knowing what he was aiming towards.
"So, are those pretty fingers still as nimble as they used to be? Narcissa told me you were one of the best students of your year" Lucius took hold of each one of Svetlana's fingers in turn and smiled to her; the witch didn't smile in return, feeling there was more to those words than just polite conversation over tea.
"I don't do as much magic as I used to..." admitted Svetlana after a moment "It's not necessary to train anymore"
"It is a pity to throw all that potential to waste" commented the blond wizard, dropping Svetlana's hand and watching the return of his wife through the garden "More tea?"
Two months later, Svetlana was invited to a dinner-party in the Malfoy state. She had attended gladly, eager to alternate with the best society again and be showered with Lucius' compliments. During the cocktail that followed the meal, she had found herself paired with an elegant wizard, about forty-years old, sporting one of the most dangerous smiles Svetlana had ever seen, and she was Severus' wife after all. The wizard, called Raymond Le Carré, had a charming conversation, and he managed to keep Svetlana amused until a walk round the gardens was proposed by the hosts. Strolling around the flowering shrubs, under the mellow summer night- breeze, he began to engage her into a more serious conversation, which ended up with him towering over her, all shadow of a smile gone.
"Svetlana, we can offer you the chance of a lifetime. We can give you more than you could wish for, and not only in terms of money. Do you want to buy yourself a diamond choker like the one Patricia Parkinson was wearing today? Do you want to indulge your son's fancies? Do you want to prove yourself to the world, or should I say, to a certain Potions Master in particular?"
"How do you know about Severus?" asked Svetlana, blushing in the midst of panic "He's out of my life now, for ever..."
"Wouldn't you just love to see his face if he sees you again, rich, beautiful, self-assured, not needing him? You can make him regret the day he left you, Svetlana. And besides, wouldn't it be a pity to abandon all those skills you worked so hard at achieving? Remember how you were first in your class in DADA, first in Charms, first in Potions. You are an admirable witch, Svetlana, and we need you"
"Who's *we*?" she asked, feeling the temptation growing inside of her ambitious self.
"I can't tell you that yet, Svetlana" Raymond seemed almost sorry, his charming façade back in place.
"I don't want to have anything to do with the Dark Arts; I had more than enough seeing my friends die as Death Eaters..."
"We're above that, Svetlana. There is no right or wrong for us, there's only power" Raymond was a very persuasive person, and this particular prey wasn't putting up much of a resistance.
End flashback
Svetlana shook her head to dismiss those old memories. It had been a long time ago, that conversation. Afterwards came the training, the extenuating, cruelly efficient training, using an illegal Time-Turner to avoid Serguei noticing her absences, and discovering more about the Dark Arts than many of her old school-friends that had turned into fully-fledged Death Eaters; she had learnt criminal curses that would have her in Azkaban before she could utter a protest, she had practised the Unforgivables until she could do them in her sleep, she had brewed poisons, learnt martial arts and other physical defences, and even trained with Muggle weapons. When she had become but a vague resemblance of her former timid self, she had sworn loyalty and secrecy, and received the tattoo from the hands of the leader of Les Fleurs (she knew his name, but she always referred to him as 'The Old Man of the Mountain' in a reference to a somehow misguiding Muggle classic). And then came the missions, twelve up to date, each leaving a trail of dead bodies and another star in her shoulder.
She picked up the drawing she had finished while thinking, and started towards the dungeon to pick up Siena. She wasn't afraid anymore. Les Fleurs took many precautions to avoid getting its members caught and tried, and she had been well trained to that respect: resistance to Veritaserum had come after drinking it non-stop for six months; the pain of the Cruciatus had been inflicted upon her enough times to consider it an old-friend, and, if all else should fail, there was one final precaution that wouldn't... the noise of a group of Hufflepuff students chattering noisily distracted her from her thoughts and spurred her to silence them with a glare. It worked, and Svetlana continued her way in a calmer state, convinced that the Potter boy wouldn't be a problem.
"Don't walk away from me like that" requested Snape as Svetlana prepared herself to leave after dinner; she had left Siena in bed, tidied her desk in discordance to the clutter of notes and parchments over her husband's table, and was now just in front of her bedroom door, hand on the handle.
"Excuse me?" she asked, with the tone she might have used for an insolent sales-clerk.
"I said: 'Don't walk away from me like that'" repeated the Potions Master, giving a stern look to the witch sharing his living-quarters.
"I heard what you said" she answered over her shoulder "From where has that strange idea come to your mind"
"Which one? To ask you to stay here, or to think you might have been avoiding my presence?" Snape was not a man to be easily deterred, not even by his wife.
"Both"
"Svetlana, stop it. It isn't making this any easier" To Hell with the thought of having a polite conversation over tea; someday they would run out of meaningful conversations to have //And then what?// thought Snape, dismissing the thought quickly.
"Must I assume you find my attitude irritating? If that should be the case, I would be more than happy to request another set of living quarters from Professor Dumbledore; after all, I don't see why we should continue to intrude in your life, when you have made it so clear you want us out"
"Svetlana!" Chastising look, lost in the stone wall those blue eyes held.
"I am sure Hogwarts holds another habitable room which is not within the perimeter of your beloved dungeons, and where Siena and I might make our residence without fearing our every step will be an annoyance to some" Where on Earth had she come up with such an elaborate language? It almost resembled Snape's when he was telling off some Gryffindors.
"Is that what you want? For me to throw you out, so you can play the part of the helpless victim once again?!" Snape lost all memory that it had all started out as an attempt to make polite chit-chat.
"I never played the part; I once *was* a helpless victim and, believe me, I never will repeat the experience" Svetlana was holding her own well; maybe her right foot was tapping nervously on the carpet a bit too much, and her lower lip carried the danger of being bruised from where she was biting into it, but that was nothing compared to Severus' flared nostrils, blazing eyes and fisted hands.
"I said I'm sorry" he spat through clenched teeth. The expected reply came out a nanosecond after the question had been uttered.
"Do you think it's enough?"
"I'm making an effort here, Svetlana, for both our sakes, and the children's'"
"Maybe the effort is showing too much" she shrugged, looking away, almost longingly, to the door she was wanting to cross; there were words that needed to be said before that, though.
"At least I'm making an effort, unlike some"
"If that is an insinuation that you have *ever* found me uncooperative, Severus Snape, you are going to pay dearly for it" It certainly took a very well-trained mercenary to stand up and intimidate the Hogwarts Potions master with such cool as Mrs Snape had.
Snape seemed aware of the incongruous attitude of his wife, but the shock of him being threatened by some other than the two most powerful wizards in existence (Dumbledore and Voldemort were the only ones who had dared raised their voices to an angry Snape and lived to tell the tale) left him speechless and open-mouthed while he digested the shock. He had expected a grown woman, maybe even a confident one, although there was nothing in the Svetlana he remembered to indicate it, but not this fearless stranger who was staring him down in his own living-room.
Svetlana almost allowed herself a small congratulatory smile as a rich voiced replayed some words into her head //'Wouldn't you just love to see his face if he sees you again, rich, beautiful, self-assured, not needing him? You can make him regret the day he left you, Svetlana.'//
"I didn't mean that" Snape found himself saying, much against his will.
"I thought so" answered Svetlana blandly, knowing she couldn't push the proud Slytherin much further.
"What the Hell are you playing at, Svetlana?" asked an exasperated Severus, letting himself fall into his armchair.
"I'm playing your part, and you don't seem to be enjoying playing mine... I wonder why that is?" This was the time Svetlana had been waiting for, and she could already taste triumph as her husband's blank face turned to her.
"My part?" he asked unbelievingly, eyes remote as memories started pouring down on him.
Flashback
Svetlana, lower lip trembling, watching as he strode by without sparing her a glance the morning after their wedding.
Svetlana, trying to tell him something, her soft voice drowned by the noise of the door slammed shut behind him as he exited the room, three months after the marriage.
Svetlana, cowering behind a coffee-table as he snarled down to her, his sarcastic remarks eating through her brave façade like acid through parchment, when she had told him she was pregnant.
Svetlana looking at him in fear, anger and longing as he told her he was leaving, not to come back again.
End flashback
"Playing my part" repeated Severus, a grimace wanting to be a smirk on his face. Svetlana looked at him and the content smile she was hiding showed through slightly: this was where she wanted him, defeated, guilty, feeling what she had felt all those times. "Where *did* you learn to play my part, Svetlana?"
"Life can teach you many things if you look for them" A cryptic and melodramatic answer, she knew, but it wasn't as if she could confess any of her activities to her husband.
"Life can teach you to play the part of a heartless bastard only if you ask for it" countered Snape, feeling on shaky territory.
"Even a weak-willed and timid creature like me can learn that, given enough time, and twelve years is just it" Svetlana stood by her doorway, her tone hard and cold as she faced Snape, who had stood up again.
"Will you stop blaming me for every misfortune to happen in your life?!" he snarled, his patience wearing thin.
"Why should I take the blame for what you did?" She was still speaking in a soft, dangerous tone.
"Stop lying to yourself! If you wanted to change, fine, but face the consequences of your actions..."
"Funny you should tell me that" she spat, giving a well-measured step towards him "You, who ran away from his responsibilities, who hid from the consequences of his actions for as long as life allowed him to. You, who were cowardly enough to avoid confrontation with my father, and chose to marry me instead... did you stay to watch what happened afterwards, or did you rather run to hide in this filthy dungeons, where you've become the shadow of a human being?"
"Don't start with the personal insults now, Svetlana" warned Severus, knowing he was bound to lose in that territory "I could as well ask you what you didn't want to tell me the other night, the origins of the wealth you seem so fond in showing off. Or how come that when I went back to you that night, you seemed to have learnt how to kiss all of a sudden..."
That was too much, and both knew it. Pale with rage, Svetlana reached for her wand, but stopped mid-movement when she noticed that the door to Siena's bedroom door was slightly open, and a pair of bright blue eyes were peering through. Seeing that she had been caught, the little girl pushed the door ajar and looked, with tear-brimmed eyes, at both her parents.
"Siena!" said Svetlana, putting down her wand, too late. The little girl gave her mother a reproachful look and the witch had to look to the floor; Severus was already petrified, both remembering what he had said and how his daughter had looked at him. After a tense moment, Svetlana recovered her voice, albeit soft and apologetic "Let's go back to bed, Siena. I'm sorry, baby; we didn't mean to wake you..."
"No sleep!" protested Siena, crossing her tiny arms over her nightshirt. "You stop fighting!" That was how Svetlana used to tell both her children off all the time, and she smiled bitterly at the irony.
"Come on: to bed, Siena. We're sorry, but that doesn't meant you'll get to be up till midnight" Svetlana went into the little girl's bedroom, picked her up and put her to sleep. With a hesitant look between both doors in the room, she chose the one to the right and closed it behind her, avoiding any further discussion with Severus as she locked herself in her bedroom.
----------------------- A/N: Who would have thought she was such a coward? Hiding from Sevvie? ::tsk, tsk, tsk::... Did you like? ::Hopeful look::