Author's Note: Thank you mucho, mucho to Lady Game for her reviews both helpful and encouraging. And thank you to "Trin," for likewise encouraging me to continue. For a complete address of your questions and concerns, please see the end of the previous chapter, where I have attempted to clear things up. The only thing I didn't include was the punch in the nose Lady Game wanted Snape to give Lucius. But who's not to say he doesn't get his due, eventually? ") I'm not even sure, right now; but I think it's safe to say Lucius has not done himself a favour by acting like a jerk/prat.
I'm learning lots of new Englishy things from fanfiction! Like "prat," for example. There's a good one; thank you Lady Game! I also like "git," although that was in Harry Potter the actual series. And I'm glad to say that I finally found out what it means to "take the micky" or the "mick." To my American ears, it sounded sort of obscene, heh heh. Not that I really thought anything I'd seen in Harry Potter would be that bad, but it was the Weasley twins who were saying it! Anyway. This being the longest chapter to date, I think this seems a good time to apologize for anything un-British, for although I've been using UK spell check, I'm afraid I'm to lazy to look for a beta reader, and I don't really know what I'm doing. ") That said, and JK Rowling and Terry Pratchett being already having been thanked profusely and credited where credit is due (um, that's everywhere in the case of Ms. Rowling), here is my big and mighty chapter 10! Double digits, woo-hoo!
All four Death Eaters ended up staying in the back room for the remainder of the night. Severus grumbled a bit, every now and again, as he attempted to amuse himself with various Dark magic relics, and Lucius snapped back at him for the momentary distractions from his reading.
"It is truly lamentable that I must spend my valuable time in this horrible little shop, but it is far worse when the company cannot keep their thoughts to themselves!" said Lucius, who had become very annoyed by Severus' last complaint. He kept his voice low, since Rookwood had fallen asleep on the Charm Cloak he'd been fooling with earlier, and Karkaroff had dozed off in the Ravenous Chair.
"Why don't you leave, then? In fact, what reason is there to stay here at all? Borgin won't even be back till tomorrow evening," Snape said contemptuously.
"I didn't think there was anyone here so idiotic as to desire anything else. But you've proven me wrong, Severus. Yes, let's all walk away, leaving any one of us free to go to the Dark Lord without fear of his comrades," said Lucius caustically. "I don't know what's going on under that slimy mop of hair you've got there, but I can rest assured that it doesn't involve thinking!"
Severus glared at him, his black eyes gleaming dangerously, and moved his lips as though to speak. Finally he managed, in a strangled whisper, "The habit must be contagious."
"Then don't come too near," Lucius said evenly. "I'm quite fond of my sensibilities, thank you."
Snape's eyes bored into the top of Malfoy's spider-silk hair, and he wondered what it would be like to see the blond strands burst into flame. He smirked at the comforting vision, but Lucius was again absorbed in his book, and took no notice. That fact quickly drained the purpose from his glare, and Severus morosely settled back against the uncomfortable shelves.
Messing about with the contents of the room now seemed too much a bore to bother with, but watching Malfoy engrossed in his reading reminded Severus of the blue book he'd purchased at Flourish and Blott's. Since he did not feel inclined to sleep, he reached into his pocket and drew out "The Art of Lying and Catching Others At It." He thumbed through the rambling introduction and stopped at chapter one: "Miss Finny Speaks from Experience."
On the first page, Miss Finny briefly reassured him of the usefulness of her Art just prior to launching into a series of stories describing how it had served her on various occasions. He found the anecdotes interesting, but after a time the near silence of the room began to weigh upon his eyelids, and it became a chore to keep the book in focus.
He willed himself to stay awake just long enough to see Malfoy drift off to sleep, in spite of the message of weariness relayed by his tired eyes. He fought the battle but in the end his body could not help but yield to the natural urge to sleep after a day of trying experiences.
He opened his eyes dazedly, some time later, to see that not much had changed since his last clear memory. He sat up, from where he had been curled at the foot of one of the bookcases, and rubbed the mark on his cheek where it had lain against a corner of the blue book. Karkaroff was slumped in the throne, seemingly lifeless but for the faint whistle of his breath, and across the room from Snape, Rookwood had pushed the Charm Cloak away to rest his head on his arm, instead. To Severus' annoyance, Lucius was still in the same position, leaning up against a cleared space along the wall with excellent posture while his eyes drank in the book. He looked as though he had nearly finished it.
"Sleep well, Severus?" asked Lucius mildly, looking up briefly.
"Well enough," Snape admitted. "Did you read all night?"
"The subject matter fascinates me," said Lucius by way of a reply. Severus felt a slight pang as though lost a challenge in falling asleep while Malfoy sat awake.
"It's round about eight o'clock, I imagine" said Severus thoughtfully.
"Eight fifteen," corrected Malfoy, holding up a silver pocket watch. Severus rolled his eyes and was thankful when Lucius did not seem to have noticed.
"That late, eh?" came Rookwood's drowsy voice, muffled slightly by his arm. "I'm usually awake by seven. Supposed to be at the Ministry by nine thirty," he yawned, sitting upright.
"Don't even consider it," said Lucius.
"Then I'd better inform my colleagues that I won't be able to make it in today. 'Sthere any floo powder on the mantle, Severus?"
"Possibly," Snape shrugged. "I honestly didn't think to look."
"Why don't you accompany Mr. Rookwood and find out," said Lucius incisively, closing his book on one finger to keep his place.
"What's this, Lucius? Don't you trust me?" Rookwood grinned as he stood up and brushed off his deep scarlet robes.
"Why bother with trust when it is so much more dependable to simply verify everything?" Lucius asked bluntly.
"Why indeed." Rookwood, grinned at Malfoy with a slightly less amiable air. "Severus, you're coming, I suppose?"
"It seems that way." Snape narrowed his eyes at Lucius, who smiled coolly in return and watched the new recruit closely as he followed Rookwood from the room and shut the door loudly behind.
"Subtlety is unknown to the Malfoys," said Rookwood immediately after the sound-proof barrier was closed. Severus looked at him sideways as he fell into step beside him.
"I've only ever met the one, but I'm inclined to agree," said Severus.
"Yeah, sharing a common room, you must've learnt that right off," Rookwood smiled sardonically. "A pain in the arse, was he?"
Snape shrugged. "I never knew him very well," he said truthfully. "Malfoy was two forms above me, and he frequented different social circles, shall we say." He sneered. He frequented social circles, period, said the nasty little voice that passed for a conscience, although ordinarily its main goal was simply to annoy its host.
"Oh, is that so?" said Rookwood, skirting a pile of temporarily petrified toads. "I would've said you were just the sort."
A little flame of annoyance sparked in Severus' mind. "What, pure-blood and Slytherin? Even Malfoy had the sense to set stricter standards."
Rookwood chuckled. They had reached the fireplace, and his eyes now scanned the mantle for the floo powder. With a satisfied look, he reached for a brown biscuit tin and brought it down. Severus saw that, sure enough, it was nearly filled with the slightly green, shimmering powder.
"I didn't mean that, exactly," Rookwood said as he took a handful of Floo Powder. "It was only that in school it was always a joke—at least among the Ravenclaw—that Lucius Malfoy was the only person who could wring the best out of the Slytherin. He had his confidantes you see—they were the highborns—and then there were the... specialized lackeys," he explained.
"Crabbe and Goyle..." said Severus, nodding.
"Among others, of course. There was Morbis Baddock, who could bewitch just about anything... Angus Pritchard—he was downright clever, the little git... and Bellatrix Black could write a book on nasty curses. Malfoy always looked out for the useful ones," he finished. An opening in his grip was allowing Floo powder to intermittently trickle onto the floor as he continued to converse.
"Well, then, you know more about it than I do," sniffed Severus.
"So I understand. I only thought, seeing as he asked you to join us, that you'd have been one of them, for sure. But come to think of it, if you had been, I imagine I would have seen you prancing about the school with old Malfoy, and I don't recall noticing you in that capacity. In fact, weren't you the tall one who went around with those Gryffindor boys?" said Rookwood suddenly, looking delighted to have remembered.
"Certainly not!" said Severus angrily.
"Oh, it's not as though it's a crime, Severus! I had a few mates in Gryffindor, myself." Rookwood looked questioningly at the other man's scowling face. "What are you on about?"
"If you are referring to Potter's little gang," Snape began icily, "Then I assure you that 'friendship' had nothing to do with it. The bastard had it out for me from the day I arrived." He swallowed at the burn of the frustration and anger of seven rotten years. "Not that I didn't give him enough grief to settle the score." Wishful thinking, he thought. I never repaid him properly for what they tried to do.
"Oh?" said Rookwood, more as though he were trying to placate Severus than to express his interest. "Sounds rather nasty." He tried out a smile, to which Snape did not respond.
"Well, I've got to let the ministry know—right. Don't take your eyes off me, now! I might bolt..." and he grinned again with the obvious intent of persuading Severus to quit looking so glum, but let his face fall when the dour young man merely stared at him and said "Do hurry. I shall be very bored, waiting."
"All right," said Rookwood, a bit hurt, and placed the biscuit tin back up on the mantle. He knelt down on the hearth and onto the cold logs threw his handful of Floo powder. "Department of Mysteries, office of the Director," he said very clearly into the ensuing green flames, and quickly thrust his head into the magical fire.
"Hello, Protus," Severus heard Rookwood's oddly flat voice saying from inside the flames. "I'm afraid I won't be able to come in today... No, I'm well, I just have a bit of a crisis on my hands. ...By tomorrow, I promise, yes... Yes, thank you for understanding. I'll see you then." And he pulled his head out of the green fire, which quickly died away, leaving the logs unburnt.
"That was very quick, wasn't it?" said Rookwood, standing up. Severus shrugged. "You really aren't very encouraging, Severus." Snape didn't even look at him.
With a sigh, Rookwood resolutely started towards the back room once more, and Severus moved to walk beside him.
"How did you join the Death Eaters?" asked Severus thoughtfully, still looking disagreeable. "Was it through Malfoy?"
"Hah! If Malfoy had asked me to come, I think I would certainly have refused, if only to spite him," Rookwood replied, his previously serene face scrunched up with dislike.
"Then who?" said Severus impatiently.
"Contacted by the Dark Lord himself, I was. He was looking out for ministry workers who were deep inside and who shared his sympathies. I've always been best with theoretical magic, so the Ministry took me straight out of school, at the recommendation of my head of house. I happened to be in a rather advantageous situation, a great asset to our present cause. Dunno exactly how our Master found me."
"I suppose he has his ways," Severus commented. "So do you—well... go out for the muggle torture and all of that?"
"Worried about that bit of the deal, are you?" asked Rookwod with a slightly taunting grin.
"No!" Severus said angrily. "I've already killed a man, you know—" Rookwood rolled his eyes—"and I was just thinking that I couldn't imagine an intellectual getting his little hands dirty working for the Dark Lord!"
"Don't be thick," said Rookwood dismissively. "Muggle killing isn't the reason I joined, and I can't say it's on my list of 'fun things to do,' but a little unnatural selection can't really hurt the wizard gene pool, now can it?" he asked rhetorically. "Research shows that muggles are practically a whole evolutionary step down from wizards. They say they don't even have the same sort of thoughts that we do. Did you know their minds cannot handle abstract concepts, things like magic, which can't be touched? It's ingrained within their culture and their history. So just don't worry about it," he said reassuringly. "Just remember that they're not like us."
"And the mudbloods?" he quizzed. It seemed sort of strange to hear someone like Rookwood speaking in a manner he thought of as purely Slytherin. He didn't know what to make of it.
Rookwood wrinkled his nose. "It sort of makes me sick to think of that sort of interbreeding. I really can't stomach the idea."
"I see," said Severus, his curiosity satisfied. He did not know what else he could say.
"I know at first it seems sort of cruel," said Rookwood somewhat sympathetically, "but think of it as culling the bad pups from a litter. It's distasteful work at the outset, unless you're of the mindset of dear Mr. Malfoy and his crowd. But it's all for the better, in the end. It won't bother you after a while. And I daresay, you might even come to enjoy it a bit, as many of us do. Myself included" He smiled and winked conspiratorialy, but Severus was not paying him much attention.
They were at the door again, and Rookwood sighed as he put his hand on the door handle. "Here we go," he said, and pushed it open.
"Be quiet, Karkaroff," Lucius said sharply as Rookwood, followed by Snape, eased open the door and stepped inside the storage room. "You had better stay silent, or I promise you, we shall have no qualms about leaving you to explain the situation to Mr. Borgin!"
"What's this?" asked Rookwood.
"I'm hungry, and all I did was ask him to make me something to eat," shrugged Karkaroff from his chair.
"You idiot! You know perfectly well what you tried to do," snarled Lucius, his fists clenched. Severus was prepared to accept that Lucius was merely overreacting to Karkaroff's demands until he noticed the smug look on Karkaroff's thin face.
"Well, what did he do?" prompted Severus as he attempted to read Karkaroff's irritating grin.
"Tried to use the throne, of course," said Rookwood. "Since we know he has nothing to back his power, he's not difficult to ignore, but it's quite annoying..."
"What, he's started giving orders?"
"Indeed," hissed Lucius. He unclenched his hands and rubbed his temples vigorously. "His lordship—Karkaroff!" he corrected himself with a snarl, "demanded that I cook him up a 'nice, big breakfast' so he could 'start his day right,' " he told them venomously.
Snape laughed, but Rookwood shook his head. "Karkaroff, you are behaving atrociously. If you do not revoke that order, I shall be very hard pressed to think of a reason to let you live past tonight."
Karkaroff giggled briefly before looking Rookwood dead on and exclaiming "make me!"
Rookwood darted forward at once, his hand a blur as it reached for his wand. Red sparks shot from the tip as it whisked though the air and pointed at Karkaroff's forehead.
Lucius was grinning nastily, though one hand still clutched his head. "Ah, Karkaroff. A very bad idea, issuing commands so carelessly. That one was a bit too tempting."
Rookwood didn't seem to be listening. His eyes were focused menacingly at Karkaroff, though his face was relaxed and wearing a faint, distracted smile. But from the look in Karkaroff's eyes, Rookwood's initial display had been fearsome enough.
"Come now, Karkaroff!" said Rookwood, "I haven't had the chance to use the Great Curses lately, but I don't think you'd like me to start practising on you."
"Oh, fine!" Karkaroff choked, turning to look at Malfoy. "Don't trouble yourself with my breakfast. Apparently I'm not hungry," he sulked. Rookwood beamed as he lowered his wand.
"Thank you. Feeling better, Lucius?"
"Just perfect!" snapped Malfoy, smoothing his hair. "If that idiot opens his mouth again, I swear I'll hex him silent. And I won't use 'Silencio!' "
"I'm certain we'd like to all about it," broke in Severus with a malevolent glance at Karkaroff.
"Severus..." Rookwood warned.
"Oh, Rookwood," responded Severus in oily tones. "What else is there to do while we wait? And because of him I've completely missed my chance to... learn." He had pulled out his wand, and was beginning to inspect it in a manner certain to make Karkaroff nervous. Severus knew he had struck the right chord when he watched the captive man shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He felt the corners of his mouth turn into a villainous leer. "You said yourself you're out of practise."
"I also believe I said I specialize in theory? The casting of curses is not my strongest suit," said Rookwood. "Besides, I personally feel that we must leave him be at least until we're safely away from this shop.
"Then you are of course excepted from our bid for a little amusement. And I believe Severus does have a point." Lucius smirked and in one movement drew his wand and swished it through the air. "Aestus Aestivus!"
"What did you do??" demanded Karkaroff nervously. Severus noticed that he was actually starting to sweat with the prospect. And even through that darkish complexion, it was obvious that his face was turning red. With a laugh, Severus realized that Karkaroff was not suffering from anxiety, but from the effects of Malfoy's curse.
"Clever, Malfoy. Er, Lucius! Aestus Aestivus... increases the perceived temperature of the victim's body," explained Severus for the benefit of the squirming Karkaroff.
"Very good, Severus," said Malfoy lazily. "One of my favourites since boyhood."
"Say the countercurse! Please..." pleaded Karkaroff, fidgeting to what extent he was able. Already his near-black hair was becoming lank with sweat, and his goatee looked positively disgusting with the condensed perspiration. "It was just that I was hungry," he moaned.
"No, that was simply the last straw," Lucius retorted. "You are the reason I had to spend the night on a hard floor when I could have been asleep in bed!"
"And it's your fault I never got the chance to practise," added Severus.
"Malfoy, I beg you to let Karkaroff alone," said Rookwood. "When we're safe and sound, then you two can duel it out. Until then, do us all a favour by letting up that curse before Igor blows and we're left to clean up the mess. Yes?"
"Oh, it's not as though it makes a difference," said Lucius, and with a dramatic sigh, he flicked his wand. Karkaroff gasped with relief.
"I won't do anything else, I swear!" he breathed as he tilted up his hand to come as close as possible to raising it in oath. while Karkaroff's word was probably useless ordinarily, Severus mused, this was one fellow who could be counted upon to do whatever must surely guaranteed his own safety. Severus was satisfied that in this situation, that meant refraining from "doing anything else."
"It seems you were right, Augustus," said Lucius loftily. "You should be proud. In truth, he is much more endurable when he is not squirming and squealing." But from the look in Lucius' eyes, it seemed likely that as soon as their ordeal was over, Malfoy's wand would be giving its own opinion on the worth of watching Karkaroff suffer.
Rookwood rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm sure I'm grateful. As it seems we have an entire day ahead of us, would you care to join me in a game of Muggle Chess?"
"You have a board?" queried Severus, raising his eyebrows.
"No, but I saw one in the shopfront. I believe the sign said it was cursed, but I think we can handle a little excitement."
"Excitement? In Muggle chess?" Lucius scoffed. "You know, don't you, that the pieces can't even move."
"Thank you for the lesson, Lucius. I suppose you won't be playing winner?" asked Rookwood wryly. He was answered by a scowl from Lucius, but Karkaroff looked up with a grain of hope in his sulky expression.
"Queue me up for the next game?" he asked.
"Don't expect anyone to move the pieces for you," Snape sniped.
"Why of course, Igor," said Rookwood, as though Severus had never spoken.
The rest of the morning was uneventful. Severus beat Rookwood and Karkaroff in the first two games, but was being trounced by a Rookwood—Karkaroff alliance at the approach of noon. Lucius had finished his book by midmorning and finally drifted into an ungraceful sleep in his slouched position against the bookcase. He looked a bit like an unused marionette, thought Severus, who was now feeling secretly pleased that he was not the one passing out from exhaustion in front of the other three Death Eaters.
"Hah ha!" exclaimed Rookwood as he moved the white bishop to trap Severus' sparsely guarded king. "Checkmate! What do you think of that, Severus?" he grinned at Karkaroff, whose legs and hands were swinging in a synchronised movement that was possibly supposed to be some sort of victory dance.
"I'd have to remind you that it took two of you to bring be down," Severus gloated, glad of something to distract him from his shameful defeat.
"Don't get sore, now!," said Karkaroff smugly. "I say loser gets us something to eat. I'm about to die of starvation!" Severus was already fighting off the hunger pangs in his stomach—he hadn't eaten in more than twenty-four hours—and Karkaroff's reminder made his gut twist in agreement.
"It's too bad, in a way, that we got caught in a Dark Magic shop rather than a supermarket," sighed Rookwood, who from his pained look was just as aware of his hunger as the other two.
"We've really got to eat," said Karkaroff sensibly, "or it's just begging for trouble when Borgin returns, you know!"
"Well, Rookwood?" said Severus meaningfully. Rookwood looked thoughtful.
"Our Mr. Malfoy is occupied..." he said slowly.
"Good! I'll curse him not to wake till we come back, and you and I shall make a visit to the Leaky Cauldron, Augustus" said Severus, rising quickly and speaking determinedly.
"Yes, go on," prompted Karkaroff. "Then nobody will be alone. And you'll be back shortly anyway."
Rookwood considered for a very short time before standing up and saying, "All right. Go on, Severus!"
With a satisfied smile, Severus moved quietly across the room to Lucius and flicked his wand delicately over his head as he mumbled "Remone Soporus." Malfoy appeared no different, but Severus was satisfied that his magic had worked. He could feel it. That was what made a wizard great, he reflected as Rookwood grinned and beckoned him out and into the main area of the shop. Not an incredible memory, per se; but an ability to feel the right and the wrong paths in the magic. Intuition, it was: a sense refined through practise as much as anything else; the very thing that separated wizards from muggles.
"Hurry, Severus," Rookwood was almost pleading as they marched through the main room of the shop. He reached the door in strides rather longer than Severus would have thought possible for a man of his unimpressive stature, and had stepped out onto the street before Snape had even reached the door.
"I didn't realize how much I needed food until I started walking," commented Rookwood as Severus stepped out into the wan sunlight peeping from behind a streaky cloud cover. "It feels as though I'm just floating along..."
Severus nodded curtly and smiled slightly. He knew the feeling; now that his attention was drawn to it, he could feel his hands trembling with lack of nourishment, and his abdomen felt as though it has shrunk away into nothing.
Diagon Alley was nearly as crowded with shoppers as ever, despite the fact that it was the middle of a Wednesday. As the one place in Britain where a wizard could buy nearly anything he needed, customers from all around the country, and many families were prepared to make a special day of it. And today was quite a nice day, considering the way the weather often conspired to turn a nice outing into a spirit-soaking shower.
Rookwood chatted a bit as they strolled at a quick pace, their metabolisms lending them the energy to make it to the food. Severus, however, made no real contributions. His mind was on eating first, keeping Voldemort from punishing second, and somewhere at the end of a list of subjects important to him was Rookwood's banter about why he thought Quigget's Menagerie was going out of business, or whether or not the man inspecting Eeylop's owls looked something like a rooster. He soon became satisfied that Rookwood needed no more encouragement to continue his chipper chatter than the occasional nod of his head and smile or, when he managed it, a well-placed question such as "Why is that?" or "Is that so?"
"Ah, the Leaky Cauldron," said Rookwood with relief as they approached the outline of the archway. "My stomach informs me it was afraid we'd never make it this far!"
"Well, just hang on another moment," said Severus touching the single brick at the top of the arch, causing the wall to rearrange itself into a doorway through which they passed, into the close, aromatic atmosphere of the Leaky Cauldron. Getting into the it from this side was relatively easy, since usually only wizardkind ever entered the Alley, and anyone else was more welcome to leave than to enter Diagon Alley uninvited.
Rookwood made a dash for the bar while Severus followed at a more dignified pace.
"Excuse me? Sir? Sir?" said Rookwood in a desperate plea for the barkeep's attention. The thin, middle-aged man looked his way at the third "sir."
"What will you have?" he asked dispassionately.
"Do you have take-away?"
"Hang on." The man turned to a rectangular doorway through which steaming cauldrons and warm plates could be seen laid out on the long, dark-wooden tables. "Agatha, can you do take-away?" he called.
"If they'll pay for the boxes," said a female voice. It's owner poked her grey-haired head through the doorway. "I can transfigure you a few boxes if you'll pay the cost of my table linens. They're about the right size," she said addressing Rookwood.
"That will be just fine," said Rookwood, smiling distractedly with the thought of food. As soon as the barkeep found his enchanted order pad, his customer began to rattle off orders for a great quantity of food. In half-embarrassment, half-anticipation, Severus turned away to scan the room with his dark eyes.
Predictably, he recognised none of the patrons, though quite a few of them looked vaguely familiar. And positively none of them were doing anything more interesting than eating, drinking or talking. How dull.
"Good news, Severus!" said Rookwood, clapping a hand to his shoulder so that he gave a small start. "They've already cooked everything we ordered except the faery brain mash. She's going to bring us the Butterbeer and the pot pie while we pass the time. Makes waiting a welcome treat, eh?"
"Oh, good," said Severus, eyeing the food and drinks which the barkeep was now levitating to a nearby table. Hungrily, both men followed their meal and sat down, and were digging into the pie almost before they had touched the chairs.
Both men were silent for a few moments as they devoured the pastry covering and its warm innards, but it was not long before they had to slow down, if only to avoid choking.
"Just what I needed," said Rookwood contentedly, swallow a large bite. Severus chanced a grin as he gulped down a swig of butterbeer. He had to admit, he was already becoming full with this small part of the meal, and he wondered that Rookwood would be able to help the others consume all that he was going to bring back with them. Severus Snape was a thin man for a reason.
"Don't tell me you've finished!" Rookwood said in mock horror, his eyes wide as Severus' fork fussed with a gravy-covered piece of meat as though it was a particularly difficult potions puzzle. He was on his third helping, and that was more than he was accustomed to having in a single meal.
"I don't know," said Severus, finally spearing the meat and eating it slowly. "I suppose I am."
"Then it's all mine," Rookwood chuckled, drawing the serving platter towards him to replace his empty plate. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked, and Severus shook his head.
Once again he found himself turning away to look about the room. His hunger now preoccupied with the infusion of pot pie, he could concentrate on observation. It was one of the things he liked to do best: simply watching people at whatever they did. In school, he'd received endless dirty looks from people who found that black gaze disturbing, but that had only slowed him down, never stopped him. One could find out a lot by watching.
Drat. His gaze had lingered too long on the witch with the odd hair-twist down the back of her head, and she had met his eyes long enough that he was certain she'd noticed. He kept his gaze on her for another moment, hoping she would look away, before he finally lowered his eyes back to his table
"Wha', Snape, you don' fancy tha wom'n?" teased Rookwood through a mouthful, his eyes.
"I was merely looking," said Severus, quelling the indignity of having this suggested to him.
"Oh, really? It's a good thing, too. Not only is she wearing the robes of a ministry Auror; she's also a mudblood."
"You can't tell that!" Severus said sceptically.
"Just look at the nose," he whispered with certainty. "You can see by the nose. That's not a pure-blood nose if I know my business, and I do."
"I'll take your word for it."
Rookwood grinned. "Go on and hex her," he suggested impishly.
"Oh, I'm certain no-one would notice," Severus said with a role of his eyes.
"It's crowded; they won't. And I feel a need for a little meal-time entertainment, don't you?"
"Not if I'm expected to provide it!" Severus huffed, crossing his arms obstinately. "And anyway, she already saw me looking at her. She'd suspect me straight away."
"But she wouldn't be able to prove it," Rookwood reminded him, and was met with a seething glare. "Oh, very well. I'll do it, if you're so concerned."
"What do you have planned?" asked Severus quietly, not daring to arouse suspicion by chancing another look.
"Which do you prefer; completely cruel, or irritating and mild?" Rookwood tilted his head as he posed the question. Severus shrugged very slightly, paranoid that the mudblood woman would be
"All right, then," he said, exasperated, as he drew out his wand and surreptitiously pointed it over Severus' shoulder. "Lustius," he whispered.
"What did you do, spell her to look like Lucius Malfoy?" Snape smirked, the spell being one with which he was unfamiliar.
"Hardly. I went for something rather in between cruel and annoying, rather than just plain annoying. Watch her," Rookwood directed with a devilish grin, already peeping around Severus to observe his curse at work.
Trying not to look very obvious, Severus turned around in his chair and found his view obstructed by a wall of aqua-coloured fabric. As it was obviously a wizard's robe, he followed it upwards into a rather flushed pink face. He let out a soft "oh, no," as he looked into the eyes of the auror.
"Do you... mind… if I sit here?" she asked breathlessly, indicating Rookwood's chair. Severus turned, and although he might have expected it, saw that his companion of moments before had relocated to the bar and was trying with little success to stifle his laughter.
"I'm afraid I'm already here with a... friend," spat Severus with a hateful glare aimed at Rookwood.
"I don't want to keep you," said the woman, but she sat down across from him anyway and looked at him. But not into his eyes, he noticed, and he self-consciously adjusted his robes. He decided that standing up to address her would probably be a mistake, as she was now biting her lip and picking at her high, practical collar.
"Lust," said Severus aloud, his mind churning up the word that was tickling his tongue. "Lustius—I don't mean to be rude, but if you'll see that man over there," he pointed to Rookwood, who raised his eyebrows and was having difficulty fighting down a smirk, "he's put a Lustius curse on you, if you're feeling a bit, er off?"
"Yes," she said quietly, leaning forward slightly across the table. "a bit... different. Like I've never felt..." She looked in his eyes now, and with a quick movement took his hand before he could move it from the table. Naturally, instinctively, he pulled his arm away from her hungry touch, but to his surprise, she came with it. A collision with her hip was enough to knock the serving platter onto the floor with a clink, a clash, and a splat. The woman herself, whom Severus now guessed to be at the very least a decade his senior, threw her weight down upon her knees and laid her blondish head upon his knee.
Most of the other patrons were now glancing furtively at Severus and the auror, while a good many of them were staring openly.
"Use me but as your spaniel!" said the woman in a pleading voice, and as she tried to stroke his thigh, Severus now stood up reflexively. "Spurn me, strike me, but give me leave, unworthy as I am, to follow you! And anything else that might prove, ah, productive," she said, once again eyeing him without making eye contact. First, I'll kill her, thought Severus, trying to calm himself. And then I'll kill Rookwood. He tried very hard to ignore the scandalised looks of the wizards and witches at the other tables as he backed away from the brush of her fingers, marching over to the obscenely grinning Rookwood and jabbing him in the ribs with his wand.
"Get the food and we're leaving," he hissed. Though most people were still lobbing looks at both him and the dreamy-eyed woman, they were also very keen to talk about what "that git" was doing to "that poor girl." This kept the noise level high, and Severus was vaguely thankful for that.
"Didn't expect the bad Shakespeare," Rookwood beamed irrepressibly. "But that was a rather nice bit of curse work if I say so myself!"
It took a lot of self-control to keep the word "Crucio," from slipping between his lips, as evidenced by the eager red sparking of his wand. Instead, he settled for a soft but forceful "Imperio," and smiled unabashedly when Rookwood's leering expression faded into a look of gentle bemusement. He felt the hands of the woman upon his upper wand arm, making the hairs on his neck stand up unpleasantly.
"Get the food and return to me as swiftly as possible," he instructed, and Rookwood jumped up as would a muggle who's just realised he's left the gas on at his house.
"Please," the woman begged softly, and though Severus steeled himself for an explanation of "please" what, she merely moved to take hold of his shoulders, and was instantly shaken off with indignity.
Rookwood returned from the kitchen, laden with steaming cartons, just as the woman looked ready to speak again.
"Come Rookwood, we're leaving," Severus called abruptly. He stalked to the brick wall and tapped the bricks in the correct order, being very careful to look at no one. When the archway had opened up, Severus stalked through, with the overloaded Rookwood following him like larger version of a House Elf.
He did not look back when the bricks began reform the wall, and he sped up his pace when he heard that final wailing of "Wherefore was I to such keen mockery born?" before the final brick clunked into place.
***
Author's note: What did you think? I know the Shakespeare thing was a little weird, but I bought the modern "Midsummer Night's Dream" movie a few weeks ago, and the phrases popped into my head, and it so I just stuck it in. I know I left out the words "neglect me" and "lose me," but I didn't think it necessary to include them. I suppose next chapter I'll maybe give Rookwood something to say about it; I don't know. I just sort of liked it there. Also, for anyone who's getting worried about this being a "Snapey loses his girlfriend in a tragedy that's just waiting to happen" or "Snapey gets a visit from well-meaning love doctor insert name here; Rookwood?" or "let's put Snapey in a sexual situation because that would be cute," fic, please don't panic! I tried (don't know if I succeeded) to convey the fact that the Lustius curse was an utter embarrassment to him, and that it was simply one of the most humiliating things Rookwood could think of (and was able to perform) to both mess with the mudblood and annoy Snape. Did he seem appropriately disgusted? Tell me what you think; if that was just cheesy beyond reckoning, inform me, please! The story shall be changed! ") I'll quit with the Midsummer Night's Dream stuff if it annoyed people! I thought it would be good to establish Snape's reactions to other people. Was this a good way to do it? Questions encouraged, suggestions tolerated... ") No, I'm kidding! Suggestions and questions are both very welcome indeed!!
