Rose Among the Thorns: The Third Evans Sister
By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large
Standard Disclaimer Found In Previous Chapters
Italics are thoughts, emphasized words, or letters.
NOTE: Yes, I realize there's an inconsistency in the timing. Working on it. Don't hate me 'cause I'm creative….
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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: June 1980
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Rose Snape swallowed, somewhat nervously, as she and her husband walked up a brick path towards the large front doors of Malfoy Manor. They were both dressed in their finest, having purchased new evening wear for just this occasion. Severus looked uncomfortable in his high-button, deep black, dress robe and the black suit which he wore underneath. His hair was pulled back, shining with cleanliness rather than the saturated grease from the potions he handled on an almost hourly basis. His expression was closed, no one would know what went through his mind at that moment...except for Rose.
Rose knew what went through her husband's mind because, just moments before apparating before the manor, they had a good long argument about several things. It was a very heated argument, too. Had they not been dining with the Malfoy's that evening they surely would've gone to their opposite ends of their cottage and sulked or stewed angrily for the rest of the night.
That had been happening a lot lately. Rose had been difficult, asking too many questions of other Death Eaters, asking if violence was really necessary, coldly accusing them all with her eyes upon meeting them, and steadfastly avoiding the searching gaze of her husband and the Dark Lord—Legilimens. She knew some about Occlumency but not enough to keep anyone who was searching her too closely from finding out how she felt about certain issues. And lately she hadn't felt good about much.
Severus was frustrated with his wife, knowing that she was keeping her feelings and thoughts from him and hating every minute of it. He had better things to do than worry constantly about her, of course, but she was no longer as open as she had been in the past. She didn't actively share her opinion on missions or potions with him anymore, she brewed her own requested potions quietly and never told him what they were or who they were for. She was being too close-mouthed.
And other Death Eaters were noticing the tension with which Rose stood during meetings and the hesitancy with which she took assignments in healing or medicines. She was, to all appearances, bitter about her decision to join the elite group.
To keep attention focused away from his wife Severus had been forced to step into the spotlight himself, seconding her questions but rephrasing them in a pleasing manner, praising the other Death Eaters when his wife scorned them, making excuses for her when she appeared disinterested in their cohorts. Many times he had even drawn the attention of Lord Voldemort away from Rose, asking a question of making a snide comment he knew his leader would appreciate.
This meant two things; the Death Eaters were indifferent to Rose and openly impressed with Severus.
Which brought them to the Malfoy dinner party. At this party would be witches and wizards of high standing, some of them Death Eaters and others merely prominent members of the wizarding world—some of which outwardly denounced the Dark Lord. Malfoy, though suspected of being a Dark sympathizer, was still one of the wealthiest wizards in Britain and so an invitation from him was not to be turned down.
By coming to this party the Snapes were throwing themselves before society which would either make them a popular couple or merely shrug them off into the lower ranks of the wizarding world once again. Something that, no matter which way the war went, Severus Snape could not afford.
As they paused at the massive, double-door entrance to the old fortress--left over from the darker times of history and the ancestral home of the Malfoys since the day their ancestor, Sidius Malfoy, stormed the fortress and murdered the muggle inhabitants after they had accused him of witchcraft—Severus sighed resignedly and muttered, "At least pretend to enjoy yourself tonight." He used the heavy lead knocker to announce them. Gargoyles on either side of the doorway, set back in niches above the Snapes' head, glared wickedly down upon them with slack jaws and long fangs.
"These people irritate me, Severus," Rose responded, glaring up at him briefly before turning her attention back to the door. "And they know I don't like them. Why pretend?"
"Because it's what you do in these circumstances," his hissed back.
The door was opened by a house-elf, clothed in an old silk pillowcase baring the Malfoy coat of arms. They were shown inside and directly to the dining room where many of the guests had all ready gathered.
Severus was put near the head of the table so that Lucious Malfoy might easily consult with him or ask for his opinions. Rose, on the other hand, was put near Narcissa. While the snobbish member of the Black family considered herself far above most witches she did still have a knack for hostessing. Seated on her right hand was, of course, her sister Bellatrix. Rose was across from Bella and so found herself forced to listen to the two fanatical sisters—the elder going on in raptures about the expensive dinner before them and the younger trying to engage those around her in conversations about the Dark Arts in a sly manner.
Rose kept quiet, paying more attention to her food than the politician they had seated her next too—an older wizard named Cornelius Fudge. There just wasn't much she cared to pay attention to any more. She was tired of fighting with Severus, she was second-guessing herself about joining up with Lord Voldemort, and she was frustrated with life in general.
Back at the other side of the table, Severus sat discussing potions with Lucious, a harmless discussion about hang-over remedies and such. Severus found himself glancing periodically down the table, trying to catch a look at his wife but failing to see her with other guests, dishes, and candlesticks getting in his way.
It was a long, uneventful, stupid evening.
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Rose climbed out of bed, yawning, and shuffled from the room to the kitchen. Once there she calmly opened the ice box and dug around for a few minutes until she found a small jar of sweet pickles. She had bought the pickles just a few days previous, from the muggle village nearby. She had also purchased a bit of cream, which she also put on the table.
She glanced at the clock on the wall, a reproduction of a Swiss Cuckoo but with a flaming Phoenix popping out every hour and trilling a song instead of the former annoying bird. It was five in the morning, and Severus still wasn't home. Nor had she heard from him.
Sighing, she opened the pickles, then the cream, and dipped the green snacks into the sweet white substance. After doing so she licked the cream off of the pickle, then popped the pickle into her mouth.
Oberon was on his stand, having flown in just moments before from his evening out. "Who?" he asked, blinking at his mistress.
"Just me," she answered the owl, smiling slightly, sleepily, at him. "Up early again. I just can't seem to sleep at all these days. Of course, it could have something to do with sleeping alone."
The owl tilted his head to the side in such a way as to suggest, perhaps, that Rose knew very well that wasn't the reason.
"Well, it's part of the reason anyway," she muttered defensively, popping a cream-covered-sweet-pickle into her mouth. "And the other part is the same person I'm eating this revoltingly delicious food for."
"Who?" Oberon said, sounding very demanding for an owl.
"I don't know who yet. They haven't been born." Rose tossed a pickle at the owl, and Oberon easily caught it and gulped it down.
The owl then huffily turned his back on her and made a peculiar, ruffled, upset sound.
"No," Rose answered to the gesture, glaring at him. "I still haven't told Severus yet and I'll thank you to keep your beak shut about it."
The owl didn't answer her, nor did she imagine him to.
She finished off the pickles, and most of the cream, before going to take a shower. After her shower, and eating a somewhat normal breakfast (though putting hot mustard on her eggs wasn't something she usually did), Rose went down to the laboratory and concentrated on her potion for Bellatrix Lestrange's husband—what was his name again? Bella never gave the man much of a chance to talk, so Rose often forgot he was even around. Ah well. Didn't matter much. The potion was, of course, polyjuice which would allow him to change form. And another potion she wasn't fond of.... A poison, actually.
Rose came up from the laboratory at noon, she made lunch and went to her room for a nap.
Severus was in bed, having come in sometime while she was in the cellar. It looked as if he had collapsed, he laid on top of the blankets and hadn't even taken off his boots. Which were, Rose noticed with a scowl, caked in mud and on her comforter.
She approached the bed with the intention of waking him up and making him remove the offending footwear but no sooner had she come to the bed than he made a sound in his sleep—it was a groan...but it was also a sound of anguish.
His expression was pained while he slept, and he looked a fright. There were circles under his eyes, he was pale, and his hair was a mess of tangles.
"Oh, Severus," she whispered, putting a hand out to brush a strand of jet-black hair from his forehead. "What are we doing to ourselves?"
Carefully she removed his boots and unbuttoned his clothes so that he could sleep more comfortably. She covered him with the other half of the blanket he slept on, then crawled into bed beside him and closed her eyes to rest.
She awoke hours later, a storm had moved in and darkened the skies so that the room was almost devoid of light as well.
His hand brushed a dark curl from her cheek and she turned to see him, propped up on one elbow, looking at her. "You're tired a lot lately."
Rose sat up and ran a hand through her long hair, giving him a bemused smile. "So are you."
He shrugged. "I'm out all night."
"I'm up all night waiting for you," she responded, her tone cool. "Then you sneak in after I've put in a morning of work on no sleep."
"Rose," he groaned, turning over onto his back to gaze up at the canopy. "I don't like to disturb you when I come in—I'm usually in no frame of mind to have a conversation anyway."
"Well why is the Dark Lord requiring you to go out on these all-night missions?" she asked, glaring at him. "You're supposed to be brewing potions, I'm supposed to be working on medical supplies. Instead I'm doing both my work and yours and you're out all hours! This wasn't part of your job, Severus, or—"
Severus interrupted her, snarling, "I'm aware of that, Rose, but one does not tell the Dark Lord certain duties are outside of one's job description! I don't want to be used as an 'example' of what happens to disobedient servants!"
"We're not servants, Severus!" Rose snapped back. "We're soldiers in a cause—a cause I'm not sure I support anymore." Rose stepped away from the bed, her back to him. "I don't even remember why I'm a part of all of this."
"Because it's a chance to prove yourself and to gain power that others of our kind can only dream of," he responded.
"No," she whispered, sounding tired. "That's why you joined the ranks, Severus. I joined for the job, and to be useful to someone."
The scent of the falling rain was heavy in the air between them. "What were you doing all night, Severus?" she asked, still not turning to face him. "Where were you?"
"I can't tell you," he answered without a pause. "And you know that."
"Don't you trust me?"
"I don't trust anyone with certain things, Rose, and I've been told not to make you privy to many things. It's part of the job," he growled out, coming around the bed to stand before her. "It's part of the situation that we're in."
"Really?" Rose lifted her chin and glared up at him—lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating the room fully. "I'm sick of this situation, Severus. I'm sick of doing things I feel guilty about later, listening to the self-absorbed, bickering Death Eaters plan their take-over of the world. Most of all, I'm tired of secrets!"
"Are you?" Severus asked, stepping closer to cup her chin in the palm of his hand, gazing deep into her shadowed eyes. "Than why are you still hiding something from me? Every time I look into your eyes I sense a secret there. Every time." Anger laced his words, his hand slid slowly up to her cheek, his fingers ran through her hair as he ground out, between his teeth, "What are you hiding from me?" His touch was gentle, his words were harsh.
Rose pulled away. "Nothing important. You'll figure it out sooner or later anyway." She walked to one of the windows to stare out at the storm. "You won't like it, either."
This statement was alarming to Severus, her indifference to him and her refusal to tell him what was going through her mind. He cleared his throat and took a breath. "You're not going to try and...and get out, are you?" Severus feared this above almost anything else; the consequences of leaving the Death Eaters were harsh and terrible—she would be tortured and probably killed.
"No," she snorted. "I'm not that stupid."
"Good." he stepped behind her and touched a dark curl that fell down her back. "Because I can't stop the Dark Lord from harming you, he's stronger than I could ever hope to be."
"Would you even try to stop him?" she asked, so softly he barely heard her over the sound of the rain.
The question hung between them, the silence lengthened for several moments before he whispered, just as quietly, "Yes." He had struggled, inwardly, asking himself just to what extent he would go to for Rose.... He was surprised at himself, that he would risk death for her that quickly, so easily.
She turned to face him, he was startled to see her eyes brimming with tears. She put her arms around his waist and lifted her face to kiss him—deeply, passionately. But there was more to it than that. Her whisper of breath against his skin was soft as silk as she said "Promise?"
"I promise."
Rose needed him at that moment, perhaps more than she had needed anyone in her life. She kissed him, deeply.
Bewildered by the sudden change in his wife—from indifferent to needful and passionate—Severus could only hold her close and try to kiss away the tears that fell from her beautiful eyes.
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Lily curled up next to James on the couch, he slid his arm around her shoulders and lifted his eyes from his book long enough to offer her a smile. "Interesting Muggle book of yours, Lily. But do you really like this stuff?" He shut the book and showed her the cover to remind her of what he was reading.
"Chaucer's works? Of course! It's very amusing," Lily took the book from him and placed it on the other side of the couch, "especially if you're aware of this period in time. The history here is fascinating, and some wizards believe that Chaucer was vaguely aware of the magical world as there are hidden meanings in a great man of his tales."
"You should teach history of magic," James said decisively. "You're always going on about history. You could let Binns retire to haunt some other class—the kids would love you." He kissed her cheek. "Of course, every male in that school would quickly develop a wild crush on you, I'd have to make regular appearances in class to remind them to keep their beady little eyes on their books and off of you."
"You don't think this," she gestured to her round, sizable belly, "would do the trick?"
James placed his hand over her stomach and grinned when he received a hearty kick from within. "You would be teaching after you have the baby."
"And after we finish our work for Dumbledore," she reminded.
James kissed her, pulling her to him and threading his fingers through her coppery hair. "I love you," he whispered. "Have I told you that lately?"
"Yes." She sighed. "And you had better keep it up. You know, Prongs—" she used his old nick-name at times, often smirking as she did as if it still amused her, "—I really wish Petunia was more accepting of us. Her son, Dudley I think is his name, would be a fun little playmate for our baby."
"Would he?" James rolled his eyes. "Likely to take after his father and be a giant git."
"Mm. Well, there's always Rose's children...."
James didn't respond for a moment, and when he did speak it was only to change the subject.
The end is near.
Or the end of the flashback, anyway.
No sneak preview today.
My greatest thanks to: Mione1, Rae Roberts, Darkmoon3, kiss-of-cuteness, maya)-sleepy, nabenabe, Ramen and Choclte, emikae, Zaq, morgan mayfair, Illume, Evil Duckie of the Blacklagoon, and Lydia!
An especial thanks to those of you who've stuck by me THIS long. :-) Sorry to keep things short. You'll be hearing from me soon, though.
-JB-