A/N: Thank you once again for all of the compliments -- And to anyone who
was wondering, yes, the use of the word "Szajha" is intentional
This chapter is dedicated to Tim -- The strikingly beautiful one
IV. Beauty
"What are they?"
They've been filing in and out of the Room of Acca Larentia for hours now -- Pages dressed in white robes, their arms laden with brocades and chiffon. Some of them carry quivers full of peacock feathers. Others are draped with jewelry forged from palladium. We watch them attentively -- Depositing the lucre into the pavilion and then returning whence they came for more.
"They're called the Venustians," Aquarius replies, eyeing the visitors with distinct suspicion. "The artisans of Voldemort's empire. Tailors, milliners, coiffeurs . . . They thrive off of creating beauty." Aquarius pauses for a moment, watching one of the Venustians chalk lines onto a cutting of fabric. "Venustians are the only servants allowed to lay hands on the Debutantes and on the Szajha -- But they must wear dragonhide gloves at all times."
Wooden screens are propped up throughout the Room of Acca Larentia -- Makeshift dressing chambers. Pages set up clothing racks and pack them full of garments in different hues and styles.
Severus exits the pavilion, talking amiably with one of the Venustians -- A young boy with gunmetal eyes, round as saucers. He appears polished -- His stance is wrought with civility.
"My Debutantes," Severus announces, gesturing to our group. The Venustian bows -- A shallow, half-hearted bow -- before rising his head and looking all of us up and down. He's digging out our flaws by sight. I'm suddenly self-conscious.
"You may call me Mattox," the boy says, his words dulcet. "You may place yourselves into my hands in trust and good faith."
"I don't place myself into anyone's hands," Ron declares obstinately. It's a statement that earns him a hard scowl from Severus. Mattox is the one to speak:
"Of course not. Let me assure you though -- My work is the best out there. I can certainly turn you children into the Debutantes you need to become."
I find Mattox to be extremely patronizing. Not exactly unlikable but extremely patronizing.
"You'll be spending more than enough time with Mattox and the Venustians later on," Severus yawns, pulling his hair back and fastening it in place with two onyx-encrusted pins. "I, for one, am going to retire to my chambers." Then directed towards Mattox: "Keep in mind, Mattox -- The Cockatrice Bacchanalia is approaching."
"Of course, my Szajha," Mattox replies, his voice thick with reverence.
I find Mattox to be extremely sycophantic. Not exactly unlikable but extremely sycophantic.
"Come along," Severus commands as he strides out of Room of Acca Larentia. We follow in his wake. I look back for a moment to see Mattox glaring at Neville Longbottom, a look of disapproval etched into his face.
I take back everything. Mattox is extremely unlikable, despite first impressions.
Severus leads us down an unfamiliar hallway -- The stone walls covered with a thick layer of mossy scrub. A shrill chirping sound echoes throughout the corridor -- Like a linnet caught in a gilded cage. We finally pass through an archway into what must be the solarium -- A circular room covered by a glass dome.
Only then does it occur to me how long it's been since I've seen the sun.
A thicket of maples spring up in the middle of the solarium, casting a pleasant shade over the entire room. Creepers twine their way up the walls -- Twisting around bronze water pipes, as if they were trying to choke them. A patch of mushrooms sits undisturbed near the archway. Ron reaches down to tug at one of the ivory-colored stalks.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Ron drops the mushroom instantly.
"That's a destroying angel," Severus reports. "One cap of that could kill you."
"Why would you keep something like that in a garden?" Ron asks, gawking openly at the mushroom that, only five seconds earlier, had looked so innocent.
"Good for potions," Severus responds, leading us farther into the solarium. Nightingales titter to and fro, paying no heed to our travelling company. We reach a large clearing -- The "Dux Solium," as Severus calls it. The ground underfoot is soft -- Cushioned with lichen, moss, and grasses. A massive tower (a fortress in its own right) spirals out from the middle of the Dux Solium -- Bronze, engraved with ancient runes. My eyes follow the tower upward -- To the center of the glass dome, almost into the clouds above. Yes, into the heavens . . .
"Welcome to the Fides Solarius," Severus began, taking his role of professor once again. "The Fides Solarius was built during the rule of Alysaundre Demière and Grindelwald . . ."
"Oh no," Ron groans, his shoulders drooping hopelessly. "Not those two again!"
Severus continues speaking, ignoring Ron completely. "Alysaundre meant for it to be a testament of his love for Grindelwald but, in all honesty, it was used as a location for Alysaundre and Maxime Cordett to indulge in their affair." Severus gazes up at the cylindrical leviathan. "The Fides Solarius consists of seven different levels -- Including the ballroom and the library. On the top floor, beneath the dome, are the baths and the observatory."
"What do the carvings mean?" Seamus asks, trailing his fingers up and down one side of the Fides Solarius, feeling every indentation.
"We don't know yet," Severus explains, his lips contorting into a sharp frown. "We think that it might be an incantation of some sort -- A spell perhaps. It was written by Alysaundre Demière himself, that much is certain. Some of Voldemort's more adept scholars have been working on translating it."
"Whatever it is, it's certainly beautiful." Justin stares at the Fides Solarius -- His pupils dilating, causing an ellipse of his irises.
"The interior is even grander."
*****
The ballroom.
An exquisite circular chamber -- The walls and floor made out of peppered marble. An onion-shaped chandelier hangs from the ceiling -- Two hundred lights illuminating the room. Curving around the walls are trellises created from bronze piping, adorned with grapevines. Yes, the grapes of wrath are plump and ripe for the picking.
"Good day Szajha."
Draco Malfoy stands in the middle of the ballroom -- All creamy flesh and moon-shaped eyes (Moon-shaped eyes which, once again, fix onto my form exclusively).
"And greetings to the Debutantes." He gives a languid bow and I return in kind -- Colin, Justin, and Seamus following my lead. Ron glares at Draco suspiciously out of the corner of one eye.
"Good day, sir," Severus says with a sharp curtsey. "If I may have a word in private?"
"Of course."
Severus grasps Draco by the hand and practically drags him up the stairs and onto the second floor, leaving the group of Debutantes alone.
"I don't trust him," Ron murmurs under his breath. "I simply don't trust him."
"How could anyone trust Draco?" Seamus scoffs, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. "He betrayed our entire cause. We lost everything due to him and his goddamned father."
"There's no use dwelling in the past," I say, trying to be the voice of reason and logic. "So Draco Malfoy turned to Voldemort at the last moment and told him everything we'd been planning. What does any of that have to do with the present moment?"
"Yes, Draco has nothing to do with the present moment -- Except for the fact that, if it weren't for him, our side would have won and we wouldn't be here right now." Ron pauses for a moment before adding the grumbled: "And if it weren't for him, I'd probably be lying at home in my bed right now, eating some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."
"You're taking this awfully well, Harry," Justin comments. His eyes hold that askance look he's been giving me since second-year.
"Don't you all ever get tired of fighting?" I ask, plucking one of the grapes off of the vine and shoving it into my mouth. The juice glosses my tongue -- A rich, ambrosial taste.
"No," Ron replies without even thinking about it.
Severus enters the ballroom once again with a contented Draco in tow.
"The dancing lessons will commence," Severus announces. Draco doesn't spare any time. He strides over to me and bows deeply.
"I would be honored."
Ron clears his throat obnoxiously.
Draco leads me out onto the dance floor, resting his hand on my hip like a dead weight. The music begins -- A strained melody played on a violin. We begin to move and . . .
"Ouch!" I squeal, grabbing my heel. "Would you care to not tread on my feet next time?"
"Excuse me," Draco drawls, "but I believe that you were the one who stepped backwards when you were supposed to be stepping forward."
"Aren't you the one who's leading?"
*****
"It's beautiful at night, isn't it?"
Severus and I stare up through the glass dome. The stars are out tonight -- The constellations whirling about in the celestial dance. The baths, located on the top floor, are expansive and sparsely furnished -- A few bronzed pools set into the marbled floor. The glass dome high above our heads remains unsteamed, despite the heated water gushing forth into the baths -- Giving us a clear view of the night sky. Severus sighs and pushes his robes off, letting them fall onto the ground. He climbs into the circular bath, letting the water rush over his form.
"Are you coming in or aren't you?"
I quickly dispose of my clothing and scramble in after him, sitting on the opposite side of the bath. We're silent for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of water lapping against our skin.
"Do you and Draco get along well?" Severus asks suddenly, bringing me out of my utopia and into my reality.
"Well enough," I shrug. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Severus says, dismissing the entire subject.
Silence falls over us once more. In the calm of the moment, I inch closer to Severus. He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of the baths.
"If you're going to come over here . . ."
Severus doesn't need to say a single word more. I'm already sitting right next to him, my head resting on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around me, kneading an erect nipple between his two fingers.
"If you belong to Tom, then who do we belong to?"
"First and foremost, you belong to Tom," Severus replies, forever gazing at the sky. "We all belong to Tom, I suppose."
"Will I ever be able to be with you?" I ask, my mind travelling far ahead of decency. Severus smiles and leans over to kiss me. His lips graze mine and fireworks begin exploding behind my eyelids. My head swoons back and a shallow moan escapes my mouth.
"Someday," he murmurs, his lips pressing against the ridge of my ear. I reach down and gently run a finger along Severus' shaft. Steam clouds both of our minds and we're aroused -- Aroused and half-asleep, snuggling into a cocoon of moist heat.
My fingers fondle his balls, velvet softness under my fingertips. They skit down the length of the shaft and pinch at the foreskin, tugging gently at the silver ring. Severus laughs -- A slow, lingering laugh -- and softly kisses up my neck, concentrating at the nape. I rub up and down his cock a few times, simply getting a feel for the size of it -- Trying to figure out in my mind's eye what I'm supposed to do.
"You've never done this before." It's a statement instead of a question. Severus pushes his lips against mine once again and our tongues leisurely bat against each other. I ease my palm over the entire width of the head and begin slowly rotating my wrist, twisting the flesh. I elicit a surprised gasp from him that time. Encouraged, I move my attention back to his balls, rolling them backward and forward, grazing them against the underside of his cock.
"Have you done this before?" he asks, momentarily confused. One of my hands twines around his shaft while the other one settles on his inner thigh. He allows himself to fall back against the side of the bath, his body becoming limp. My fingers trace circles in the sensitive flesh of his thigh while my hand moves up and down the length.
"God Harry," he breathlessly murmurs. I place both of my hands on either side of his cock and push together mildly. I smooth the palms of my hands up and down the shaft and he grabs ahold of some of the longer strands of my hair, not exercising any restraint in the least. I grasp his cock in the traditional clutch and begin stroking him -- My pace steady and determined. At last, he moans and semen spills out into the water.
I climb onto his lap, biting his bottom lip in a gesture of childish affection.
"That isn't something that's normally done to me," Severus explains, his breathing still labored. "Especially with that degree of skill." Severus pauses for a moment, concern burrowing into his thoughts. "Have I made a mistake? Are you a virgin?"
"I am definitely a virgin," I reassure him, rubbing my hand against his back. "Completely untouched."
*****
"Don't go back to the other Debutantes tonight," Severus yawns, easing under the covers of his bed. "Stay with me."
I sit on the edge of his bed, tucking the comforter around him.
"Why did you ask about Draco?" I ask, playing with a strand of his hair -- Twisting it so that it coils against his scalp. "You asked me if I got along well with Draco. Why should it matter?"
"Get into the bed," he murmurs, closing his eyes. "Get into the bed and I'll tell you why."
I ease under the covers, remaining at least a foot away from him at all times -- Not allowing our bodies to brush against one another.
"Someday, you'll no longer be directly under my care," Severus explains. "Oh, you'll still be my responsibility -- My Debutante. You'll no longer be living with me though." He pauses for a moment. Disappointment saturates my emotions.
"You'll be sponsored, as all Debutantes are, by one of the Death Eaters. Oh, your first and foremost allegiance will always be to Lord Voldemort -- If he calls, no matter what the circumstances, you must go. Your secondary allegiance though . . ."
"Draco Malfoy," I say, finally understanding the significance of his interest in me.
"He can't claim anything that you don't fully give him. It's a contract between the two of you: In return for your services and your company, he'll take care of you until death. You wouldn't exclusively be Draco's, of course. You belong to everyone -- He simply has top priority." Severus yawns once again and fades into slumber.
I'm left awake and alone.
IV. Beauty
"What are they?"
They've been filing in and out of the Room of Acca Larentia for hours now -- Pages dressed in white robes, their arms laden with brocades and chiffon. Some of them carry quivers full of peacock feathers. Others are draped with jewelry forged from palladium. We watch them attentively -- Depositing the lucre into the pavilion and then returning whence they came for more.
"They're called the Venustians," Aquarius replies, eyeing the visitors with distinct suspicion. "The artisans of Voldemort's empire. Tailors, milliners, coiffeurs . . . They thrive off of creating beauty." Aquarius pauses for a moment, watching one of the Venustians chalk lines onto a cutting of fabric. "Venustians are the only servants allowed to lay hands on the Debutantes and on the Szajha -- But they must wear dragonhide gloves at all times."
Wooden screens are propped up throughout the Room of Acca Larentia -- Makeshift dressing chambers. Pages set up clothing racks and pack them full of garments in different hues and styles.
Severus exits the pavilion, talking amiably with one of the Venustians -- A young boy with gunmetal eyes, round as saucers. He appears polished -- His stance is wrought with civility.
"My Debutantes," Severus announces, gesturing to our group. The Venustian bows -- A shallow, half-hearted bow -- before rising his head and looking all of us up and down. He's digging out our flaws by sight. I'm suddenly self-conscious.
"You may call me Mattox," the boy says, his words dulcet. "You may place yourselves into my hands in trust and good faith."
"I don't place myself into anyone's hands," Ron declares obstinately. It's a statement that earns him a hard scowl from Severus. Mattox is the one to speak:
"Of course not. Let me assure you though -- My work is the best out there. I can certainly turn you children into the Debutantes you need to become."
I find Mattox to be extremely patronizing. Not exactly unlikable but extremely patronizing.
"You'll be spending more than enough time with Mattox and the Venustians later on," Severus yawns, pulling his hair back and fastening it in place with two onyx-encrusted pins. "I, for one, am going to retire to my chambers." Then directed towards Mattox: "Keep in mind, Mattox -- The Cockatrice Bacchanalia is approaching."
"Of course, my Szajha," Mattox replies, his voice thick with reverence.
I find Mattox to be extremely sycophantic. Not exactly unlikable but extremely sycophantic.
"Come along," Severus commands as he strides out of Room of Acca Larentia. We follow in his wake. I look back for a moment to see Mattox glaring at Neville Longbottom, a look of disapproval etched into his face.
I take back everything. Mattox is extremely unlikable, despite first impressions.
Severus leads us down an unfamiliar hallway -- The stone walls covered with a thick layer of mossy scrub. A shrill chirping sound echoes throughout the corridor -- Like a linnet caught in a gilded cage. We finally pass through an archway into what must be the solarium -- A circular room covered by a glass dome.
Only then does it occur to me how long it's been since I've seen the sun.
A thicket of maples spring up in the middle of the solarium, casting a pleasant shade over the entire room. Creepers twine their way up the walls -- Twisting around bronze water pipes, as if they were trying to choke them. A patch of mushrooms sits undisturbed near the archway. Ron reaches down to tug at one of the ivory-colored stalks.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Ron drops the mushroom instantly.
"That's a destroying angel," Severus reports. "One cap of that could kill you."
"Why would you keep something like that in a garden?" Ron asks, gawking openly at the mushroom that, only five seconds earlier, had looked so innocent.
"Good for potions," Severus responds, leading us farther into the solarium. Nightingales titter to and fro, paying no heed to our travelling company. We reach a large clearing -- The "Dux Solium," as Severus calls it. The ground underfoot is soft -- Cushioned with lichen, moss, and grasses. A massive tower (a fortress in its own right) spirals out from the middle of the Dux Solium -- Bronze, engraved with ancient runes. My eyes follow the tower upward -- To the center of the glass dome, almost into the clouds above. Yes, into the heavens . . .
"Welcome to the Fides Solarius," Severus began, taking his role of professor once again. "The Fides Solarius was built during the rule of Alysaundre Demière and Grindelwald . . ."
"Oh no," Ron groans, his shoulders drooping hopelessly. "Not those two again!"
Severus continues speaking, ignoring Ron completely. "Alysaundre meant for it to be a testament of his love for Grindelwald but, in all honesty, it was used as a location for Alysaundre and Maxime Cordett to indulge in their affair." Severus gazes up at the cylindrical leviathan. "The Fides Solarius consists of seven different levels -- Including the ballroom and the library. On the top floor, beneath the dome, are the baths and the observatory."
"What do the carvings mean?" Seamus asks, trailing his fingers up and down one side of the Fides Solarius, feeling every indentation.
"We don't know yet," Severus explains, his lips contorting into a sharp frown. "We think that it might be an incantation of some sort -- A spell perhaps. It was written by Alysaundre Demière himself, that much is certain. Some of Voldemort's more adept scholars have been working on translating it."
"Whatever it is, it's certainly beautiful." Justin stares at the Fides Solarius -- His pupils dilating, causing an ellipse of his irises.
"The interior is even grander."
*****
The ballroom.
An exquisite circular chamber -- The walls and floor made out of peppered marble. An onion-shaped chandelier hangs from the ceiling -- Two hundred lights illuminating the room. Curving around the walls are trellises created from bronze piping, adorned with grapevines. Yes, the grapes of wrath are plump and ripe for the picking.
"Good day Szajha."
Draco Malfoy stands in the middle of the ballroom -- All creamy flesh and moon-shaped eyes (Moon-shaped eyes which, once again, fix onto my form exclusively).
"And greetings to the Debutantes." He gives a languid bow and I return in kind -- Colin, Justin, and Seamus following my lead. Ron glares at Draco suspiciously out of the corner of one eye.
"Good day, sir," Severus says with a sharp curtsey. "If I may have a word in private?"
"Of course."
Severus grasps Draco by the hand and practically drags him up the stairs and onto the second floor, leaving the group of Debutantes alone.
"I don't trust him," Ron murmurs under his breath. "I simply don't trust him."
"How could anyone trust Draco?" Seamus scoffs, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. "He betrayed our entire cause. We lost everything due to him and his goddamned father."
"There's no use dwelling in the past," I say, trying to be the voice of reason and logic. "So Draco Malfoy turned to Voldemort at the last moment and told him everything we'd been planning. What does any of that have to do with the present moment?"
"Yes, Draco has nothing to do with the present moment -- Except for the fact that, if it weren't for him, our side would have won and we wouldn't be here right now." Ron pauses for a moment before adding the grumbled: "And if it weren't for him, I'd probably be lying at home in my bed right now, eating some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."
"You're taking this awfully well, Harry," Justin comments. His eyes hold that askance look he's been giving me since second-year.
"Don't you all ever get tired of fighting?" I ask, plucking one of the grapes off of the vine and shoving it into my mouth. The juice glosses my tongue -- A rich, ambrosial taste.
"No," Ron replies without even thinking about it.
Severus enters the ballroom once again with a contented Draco in tow.
"The dancing lessons will commence," Severus announces. Draco doesn't spare any time. He strides over to me and bows deeply.
"I would be honored."
Ron clears his throat obnoxiously.
Draco leads me out onto the dance floor, resting his hand on my hip like a dead weight. The music begins -- A strained melody played on a violin. We begin to move and . . .
"Ouch!" I squeal, grabbing my heel. "Would you care to not tread on my feet next time?"
"Excuse me," Draco drawls, "but I believe that you were the one who stepped backwards when you were supposed to be stepping forward."
"Aren't you the one who's leading?"
*****
"It's beautiful at night, isn't it?"
Severus and I stare up through the glass dome. The stars are out tonight -- The constellations whirling about in the celestial dance. The baths, located on the top floor, are expansive and sparsely furnished -- A few bronzed pools set into the marbled floor. The glass dome high above our heads remains unsteamed, despite the heated water gushing forth into the baths -- Giving us a clear view of the night sky. Severus sighs and pushes his robes off, letting them fall onto the ground. He climbs into the circular bath, letting the water rush over his form.
"Are you coming in or aren't you?"
I quickly dispose of my clothing and scramble in after him, sitting on the opposite side of the bath. We're silent for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of water lapping against our skin.
"Do you and Draco get along well?" Severus asks suddenly, bringing me out of my utopia and into my reality.
"Well enough," I shrug. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," Severus says, dismissing the entire subject.
Silence falls over us once more. In the calm of the moment, I inch closer to Severus. He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of the baths.
"If you're going to come over here . . ."
Severus doesn't need to say a single word more. I'm already sitting right next to him, my head resting on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around me, kneading an erect nipple between his two fingers.
"If you belong to Tom, then who do we belong to?"
"First and foremost, you belong to Tom," Severus replies, forever gazing at the sky. "We all belong to Tom, I suppose."
"Will I ever be able to be with you?" I ask, my mind travelling far ahead of decency. Severus smiles and leans over to kiss me. His lips graze mine and fireworks begin exploding behind my eyelids. My head swoons back and a shallow moan escapes my mouth.
"Someday," he murmurs, his lips pressing against the ridge of my ear. I reach down and gently run a finger along Severus' shaft. Steam clouds both of our minds and we're aroused -- Aroused and half-asleep, snuggling into a cocoon of moist heat.
My fingers fondle his balls, velvet softness under my fingertips. They skit down the length of the shaft and pinch at the foreskin, tugging gently at the silver ring. Severus laughs -- A slow, lingering laugh -- and softly kisses up my neck, concentrating at the nape. I rub up and down his cock a few times, simply getting a feel for the size of it -- Trying to figure out in my mind's eye what I'm supposed to do.
"You've never done this before." It's a statement instead of a question. Severus pushes his lips against mine once again and our tongues leisurely bat against each other. I ease my palm over the entire width of the head and begin slowly rotating my wrist, twisting the flesh. I elicit a surprised gasp from him that time. Encouraged, I move my attention back to his balls, rolling them backward and forward, grazing them against the underside of his cock.
"Have you done this before?" he asks, momentarily confused. One of my hands twines around his shaft while the other one settles on his inner thigh. He allows himself to fall back against the side of the bath, his body becoming limp. My fingers trace circles in the sensitive flesh of his thigh while my hand moves up and down the length.
"God Harry," he breathlessly murmurs. I place both of my hands on either side of his cock and push together mildly. I smooth the palms of my hands up and down the shaft and he grabs ahold of some of the longer strands of my hair, not exercising any restraint in the least. I grasp his cock in the traditional clutch and begin stroking him -- My pace steady and determined. At last, he moans and semen spills out into the water.
I climb onto his lap, biting his bottom lip in a gesture of childish affection.
"That isn't something that's normally done to me," Severus explains, his breathing still labored. "Especially with that degree of skill." Severus pauses for a moment, concern burrowing into his thoughts. "Have I made a mistake? Are you a virgin?"
"I am definitely a virgin," I reassure him, rubbing my hand against his back. "Completely untouched."
*****
"Don't go back to the other Debutantes tonight," Severus yawns, easing under the covers of his bed. "Stay with me."
I sit on the edge of his bed, tucking the comforter around him.
"Why did you ask about Draco?" I ask, playing with a strand of his hair -- Twisting it so that it coils against his scalp. "You asked me if I got along well with Draco. Why should it matter?"
"Get into the bed," he murmurs, closing his eyes. "Get into the bed and I'll tell you why."
I ease under the covers, remaining at least a foot away from him at all times -- Not allowing our bodies to brush against one another.
"Someday, you'll no longer be directly under my care," Severus explains. "Oh, you'll still be my responsibility -- My Debutante. You'll no longer be living with me though." He pauses for a moment. Disappointment saturates my emotions.
"You'll be sponsored, as all Debutantes are, by one of the Death Eaters. Oh, your first and foremost allegiance will always be to Lord Voldemort -- If he calls, no matter what the circumstances, you must go. Your secondary allegiance though . . ."
"Draco Malfoy," I say, finally understanding the significance of his interest in me.
"He can't claim anything that you don't fully give him. It's a contract between the two of you: In return for your services and your company, he'll take care of you until death. You wouldn't exclusively be Draco's, of course. You belong to everyone -- He simply has top priority." Severus yawns once again and fades into slumber.
I'm left awake and alone.