Eyes of the Evergreen Chapter 2: Vatis, a harry potter fanfic

see Prologue for warnings, rating, and summary

1 : Vatis

She surveyed the room carefully, bright green eyes recording each detail. It was a rare thing to be where she was tonight, and a rarer thing still for there to be so many Death Eaters present. Especially since it was something of a social gathering. Trust them to be tasteless enough to throw a soireé for each successful killing. Perhaps it was only because of the most recent deaths… Several members of the Darlington wizarding family had been eliminated, and she grieved silently for them. It had to remain silent, if she were to ferret out information on the next potential hit.

As usual, she'd come on the arm of her latest 'conquest', a young man with no aspirations to become a Death Eater himself but who certainly moved in the right circles to know who they were. Death Eaters were supposed to keep their identities a secret, and always wore masks when they attacked. But when you already support the party, you're bound to learn a few names. After all, many of them had grown up together and joined together. Secrecy wasn't really as strong as they pretended it to be. Their egos wouldn't allow it be completely without advertisement. Voldemort's power was growing as fast as his over-confidence.

Tonight's swaggering swain was just one in a long line that had led her here. He had moved off across the room to get drinks, but before the night was over he would be out of her life already. All her numerous 'dates' with men who aimed for the power and glory to be gained from the Dark Arts had earned her a reputation as scarlet as her hair. A gold-digger, a player, hopping from one man to the next, aiming higher and higher. She let it be that way, because it would only be a matter of time before a true Death Eater made a move in her direction.

Tonight, she felt it in her magical bones, tonight would be the night…

She was breathtaking. The eye of the beholder didn't have to stretch its imagination far to catch that. Fairly tall, still with a slightly girlish figure. Her robes were palest grey over darkest green, in sumptuous satins and velvets. She wore little jewelry, merely a few rings which held no magic, only sentimental value, and obviously expensive. Long cascades of dark red curls fell to her waist, with two small combs on each side to hold them away from her face. Her exquisite face, pale and perfect, with delicate nose, full lips, and eyes of brilliant green. Mesmerizing emeralds. Shining evergreens.

And without knowing it, Severus Snape had been staring at her for the better part of five minutes, holding his drink just under his nose and not tasting it. This, he realised too late, was a big mistake.

Lucius Malfoy grinned broadly, a spark of malicious joy glowing in his eyes. "Ooh, look at the pretty toy, Sev. Not only pretty, but simple-minded and a renowned Death Eater groupie. She'll lift her skirts for anything that practices the Dark Arts, regardless of their looks." He smirked at Snape, running a quick glance over the entire unsavoury package. "Go on, chat her up. It's a sure thing you'll finally get your end away."

Snape stiffened noticeably at the sniggers of his, for lack of a better word, old school chums. Malfoy had the looks, Crabbe and Goyle the brawn, and he the brains but none of the other qualities. Malfoy also had his easy pick of women. Frighteningly enough even the other two, trollish lumps though they were, had managed to charm their way (probably literally) into a few trollops' knickers. But Snape hadn't yet accomplished this manly task, which wouldn't have been so very dreadful a thing, even at nearly twenty years, if Malfoy didn't seize every opportunity to rub his over-large nose in the fact.

"Lucius," he said in a deceptively soft voice, black eyes glittering with beginning hatred, "I can assure you that-"

"Now, now, Sev," Malfoy interrupted gently, "there's no shame in being untouched. I'm sure the hunters appreciate all the unicorns you attract."

Crabbe and Goyle nearly guffawed aloud at this, and Snape shot them a look combined with loathing and surprise, since they'd actually gotten the gibe.

"Lucius, enough," Snape growled. When he tried, his voice and eyes held a quiet mercilessness that quelled most anyone. Malfoy was hard to intimidate, but there were moments when something about Snape's glare reminded him uncomfortably of Lord Voldemort, just enough to give even him pause before the next joke left his lips.

"Only having fun, Severus, no need to get your bloody knickers in a twist," Malfoy mock-pouted. "If you weren't so all-fired serious you'd have more fun, too. You need to relax. And what better way," he grinned conspiratorially, "than by cozying up to a hot and tasty little tart."

Ignoring any attempt at protest and refusing to meet those glittering black eyes again, Malfoy nudged his large cronies. They grasped Snape's thin arms and all but lifted him, sputtering quiet rage, and dragged him across the room.

From the corner of her evergreen eyes, she saw the movement, and held herself still. Four men were headed her way. One strolling with evil glee on his face before two burly ruffians, who held a third all but captive between them. She guessed quickly what the game was: 'meet the whore of Knockturn Alley, and see if you get a little before the night's over'. She'd seen it before. She decided to play.

Turn at their approach. Smile warmly. Eyes wide and inviting. Mask on. Ready.

The poor young man they dumped at her feet was scarcely older than herself, and very discomfited at being hauled around like a toy. He glared upward at the other three who laughed and backed off.

Snape could have simply nodded and muttered an apology to the girl, then made his retreat, but when he looked into her face this closely, he found that he was unable to do anything at all.

She looked into his eyes and felt the mask begin to slip. His eyes were black as his shoulder length hair, deep and penetrating and confused by whatever he was seeing in her. Not the most handsome face she'd ever seen, with his pale complexion and quite large nose, yet still compelling in its own way. But it wasn't his appearance that caught her off guard. It was the sudden glow coming from his chest. She raised her right hand toward her own heart and felt the pulsing there, amazed and befuddled and totally delighted that it was happening. He was special. He was different. He was the one she had looked for…

Finally breaking the tense palpitating silence between them, she held out the same hand to him, which he took in a reflexive motion, shaking it. His palms were damp and his hands shook slightly.

"Pleasure to meet you," she said softly, "Juniper Janus."

He heard himself mutter his own name as introduction, but otherwise the only thing he seem to notice clearly were her eyes... luminous, piercing, incredible. And then he realised he hadn't yet let go of her hand. He dropped it quickly, and she smiled a quirky little smile.

"Would you care to go elsewhere, away from your… companions' spying eyes?" she asked softly, with that same smile.

Elsewhere? Maybe alone? With this gorgeous creature? Hell yes. "Um, that would be infinitely more comfortable, I should think," he said just as softly.

His voice, now that he'd spoken more than four syllables, was like silk or velvet. No, it vibrated within her head and chest, more like music. A cello. The voice of a wonderful dark cello. It was music.

"Then come with me," she said, "I have a better place we can be."

Across the room her now-former date turned, drinks in hand, and saw her walk away with the man in black, and swore softly, "Bloody hell. That was quick. Didn't even get more than a snog…"

NOTES:
· TITLE. The Latin word "vatis" means "seer", and is a terrible pun. "See her". He sees her. Okay, you got it, I'll shut up now.
· "THE VOICE". Obviously in reference to Rickman's role in "Truly Madly Deeply". And the fact that he does sound that way.