Glad to be Back?
Marley Black sat at the staff table between Hermione Granger and Severus Snape feeling very awkward and very tired. On one side was a man who she had always wanted to get to know, for some strange reason, but never had. She found him attractive and intriguing, though she'd obviously kept that to herself, and for a good reason too; he was her teacher!
And on her other side was...well...a girl she really didn't know. Sure, Marley had heard a few things about her back when she was in school, and knew that she strived to be a top student, and had done so, for students in her year, but her record was a few marks shy of the one Marley held. She guessed that was the reason why Hermione was saying very little to her.
The first years were almost done being sorted and Marley couldn't help but smile when one was sorted into Ravenclaw. But this year, all the older students were more interested in why "the great Harry Potter" was sitting at the staff table, than who was being sorted into their houses. The clapping was definitely quiet this year.
Finally the last student, Vivia Linden was sorted into Hufflepuff and the food appeared. The Hall exploded with talk and Marley knew that all of it was about Harry. He and Ron were four seats away from her, so she'd not yet met them and as said before Hermione wasn't much for talking.
It had appeared that Snape was the same way until about halfway through the feast when he suddenly spoke while Marley picked at her food.
"Glad to be back?" His voice was the same as she'd remembered, silky and devoid of emotion. It barely even sounded like a question.
Marley made a small noise of surprise, for she'd been so intent on pushing her mashed potatoes all around her plate that she hadn't expected any comments in her direction, especially not one from Snape. He never seemed like one for small talk; not a word waster.
Marley bit her bottom lip, unsure of how to reply. She was still wondering why he was talking to her and why he had waited this long. She could tell him the truth; that she was not, in fact, glad to be back and wanted nothing more than a small cottage in the France countryside with a man to love and a muggle life. She could say that she was so depressed, for unknown reasons other than just her mother's death; that some days she dreamed of ending it all. But instead she replied with, "Yeah."
Her head was only somewhat turned to face Snape, for she was afraid that he might be able to read her expression if she faced him completely. He was too good at reading other's emotions and hiding his own. She thought perhaps she saw the smallest hint of a smirk at the corners of his mouth, but decided she was wrong. The only time Snape smiled was when one of his students was doing something wrong.
She went back to torturing her now cold potatoes, assuming her ex-teacher was done talking to her, but she was wrong.
"So you've gone on to work at the Ministry, as Dumbledore tells me. You showed much promise as a student, I expected you to do something more...helpful. What exactly do you do?"
Marley frowned. What did she do? Handle mail for the Malfoys. Pathetic. She was nothing more than a secretary and might as well lead a muggle life, for her job was fitting enough. She laughed in her head, Ah, but I'm not just a secretary. I'm also a...
What was the right word? Whore?
No, they have sex for money.
Well you have it for free.
I do not! I've not had sex with either of them.
You keep working there much longer and you will. It wouldn't be so terrible.
No, it wouldn't. Wait! What the bloody hell am I saying?
Better answer Snape's question before the feast is over.
Marley sighed; tired of her mental battles with her inner self. Inner demon was more like.
"I work for Lucius and Draco Malfoy."
Snape raised an eyebrow. He was well aware, as were most, that the Malfoys practically ran the Ministry now. It was only a matter of time before Lucius weaseled his way into the position of Minister of Magic. "Didn't expect you to waste such talent on that lot."
Marley snorted. Talent? What talent did she have? Sure, she was as good at spells as the next, and perhaps better in potions and charms than most. But it made no difference. She got top marks because she was good at learning. That was about it. She'd lost her zest for magic and life itself. She had no talent.
Snape's eyebrow remained raised. "You do not agree with me?'
"Yes. No. I mean-"Marley stopped. "I don't know. Right now I'm not working at all and I'd prefer not to talk about my job."
Snape shrugged as if he hadn't cared either way and had just begun talking to hear his own velvety baritone. Marley frowned again, trying to think of something witty and mean to say, but found her brain was much too tired. Thankfully Dumbledore stood, announcing it was time for everyone to retreat to their rooms.
Not needing to be told twice, Marley disappeared, not wanting to stay and talk with Harry and his friends like the other teachers and some older students had chosen to do. She made her way through the halls, knowing exactly where to go, making her feel like she'd only just left the day before.
Her room was located across the hall from Snape's own room. She'd hoped to get a room in the Ravenclaw wing, but because there were three other guests, that was not possible. Dumbledore thought it best to place Harry in the Gryffindor wing, Ron in the Hufflepuff wing, and Hermione in the Ravenclaw wing. Thinking back on it, Marley realized that none of them would feel very comfortable in the Slytherin wing seeing as most of the student's parents were employed in service of the Dark Lord.
Shutting the big wooden door behind her she explored her new living space. She'd been given three rooms; a sitting room with a fireplace, many bookshelves (all filled), a large black leather chair and matching loveseat, a desk (with ink, parchment, and quills, of course) and a table near the loveseat. Branching off from that main room on the left was a bathroom with a tub large enough for three people, a sink almost big enough to be a tub, and a toilette. Marley had grown so used to using showers that she wished Hogwarts had them; would it be so bad to have more muggle-like rooms?
And the door on the right side of the sitting room was a bedroom. Her trunk and Death's cage (which was devoid of Death, for he'd gone out for his nightly hunt) were placed at the foot of the four poster bed, and other than a window, there was nothing else in the room.
Marley removed her robe, her clothes, and pulled an oversized grey t-shirt over her head before climbing under the covers and closing the curtains around her bed. She sighed deeply and tried to clear her mind, but memories of her previous days at work crept into her tired brain.
"Here are some important documents that need to be signed. And a letter from you wife wondering when you're coming home." Marley said dryly, placing the pile of parchments on his desk.
He looked up at her with those devilish blue eyes and she shivered involuntarily. He placed his hands over hers, and though she tried to back up, he held on tight.
"Lucius." She whispered.
He grinned and stood slightly, leaning over the desk. Before she could protest his lips were on hers. She closed her eyes as he playfully bit her bottom lip before suddenly releasing her and studying the papers on his desk.
She stood for a moment, clutching the side of his desk before realizing that she was no longer needed. Slowly she backed out of his office and closed the door, leaning her face against it for a moment. Why must he torture her so? Why did she never tell him to stop?
Before she turned around she heard an all too familiar voice and felt hands slither around her waist in a rather possessive manner. "Marley." He whispered into her ear, and she shivered against her will yet again.
"Draco." She replied, trying to sound annoyed. She was, but in a pleasant way.
Slowly the younger Malfoy began to pull her backwards until his back was against the opposite wall. He began to nibble on her neck and suddenly she wondered why there was never anyone else around when the senior and junior Malfoy suddenly took romantic interest in her.
She twisted around in his grip, in a weak attempt to peel herself away and immediately found his lips on hers. But instead of getting her lip nibbled she ended up engaged in a dueling of tongues. Draco was always competing with his father, though he was a bit more forcible.
Slowly she ran her hands through his hair, noting the difference to that of his father's. The elder Malfoy always kept his silky, silver-blonde locks tied neatly back with a dark blue ribbon, while the younger Malfoy preferred to keep his locks short and slicked back, same as he had in his days at Hogwarts. Though now, though still appearing the same, except taller, he was sporting the beginnings of a goatee and it was always hard for Marley not to laugh when she saw the dusting of white-blonde hair on the boys chin.
When Malfoy finally decided he was done (they were always the ones to be in charge), he broke away with the trademark grin and left, without a word, thinking he'd done a deal better than his father just had.
The two were always competing for her physical attention. They wanted her to chose one over the other. But she did not want to choose. And by choosing neither, she got them both.