Chapter Fourteen: A Midsummer's Nightmare
"What's going on out there?" Emily asked, peeking out the window into the cloudless afternoon. "There are bonfires all over the place." Before Severus could answer, she spoke again. "Wait a minute. What day is this?"
"Midsummer," Severus answered quietly, moaning lightly as he slid back to sit a bit taller in the bed. "Hogsmeade is having its Solstice Celebration, no doubt."
"Oh, Merlin, I miss Solstice in Hogsmeade!" She turned from the window to face him with a merry spark of excitement in her eyes. "Do you remember? Father used to take us there every year for the sunrise ritual."
The corners of his mouth twitched as he watched her bounce on her toes with barely-bridled enthusiasm.
"I do remember," he answered.
"And there were jugglers and acrobats and gypsies and bonfires," she continued happily.
"It was very exciting, yes," he answered stonily. "You're not going."
"What?" She opened her eyes wide in feigned shock. "I wasn't going to ask to go. Although..." She slinked across the room to slide into bed beside him, eyeing him lasciviously, "if I were going to ask to go, I would offer a fair exchange for your generosity."
"I'm certain you would," he answered with the tiniest hint of a leer, accepting her slightly-open mouth as invitation to cover it with his own; and she welcomed it, reveling in the taste of him for as long he would allow it. When he pulled away, it was with a slightly quickened pulse and a cruel smile. "But you're still not going."
She sat back with a pronounced pout. "You never let me do anything fun."
"I let you fight a stone golem less than a day ago, and we were almost killed," he returned casually. "Surely that couldn't have been less fun than the tornado that nearly claimed our lives."
"No, no. That was definitely fun," she said, not to be outmaneuvered, "but I was thinking more along the lines of having a few drinks, dancing with some good-looking wizards..."
"Oh, yes, by all means," he said dryly, "become inebriated in what is certain to be a playground for Death Eaters. That's worthy competition for your plan to join them in the first place."
She scowled at his infuriatingly calm face. "Touché."
He nodded once, blinking heavily as he fought sleep, then settled himself under the blanket. "In all seriousness, Emily. Do not even put your nose outside the door tonight. As most of the revelers are masked, Hogsmeade will be crawling with Voldemort's elite, looking for targets or simple sport. If they discovered you, it would prove disastrous."
She leaned over and kissed him lightly. "I promise, Sev."
He smiled gently. "We can go next year. Together. Would you like that?"
"Very much."
"As would I," he tried to stifle a yawn and failed. "The vendors sell the most fascinating potions from all over..." His eyes closed and he dropped off, a peaceful smile still lightening his usually somber features.
Emily smoothed the hair from his face and contemplated their predicament for a moment. He was right, of course. If the Death Eaters found out about her, if Voldemort discovered that Severus had been withholding information, particularly about one of his own, he could kiss the mortal plane goodbye. At some point, though, he would be found out. That was inevitable.
Then what?
Staring down at the tranquil face of her soon-to-be lover, she wondered if he had a plan for that inevitability, then rolled her eyes at the absurdity of the question. Of course he had a plan! Severus Snape always had a plan, and a few backups to compliment it. It likely hinged on telling the Dark Lord himself, though, rather than having him hear the news of her freedom from a second party who would certainly color the facts for their own benefit... or simply present her head as a trophy.
That was the way of the Death Eaters. Only the ruthless survived... and she had loved playing their game - the danger, the difficulty, the complex web of alliance and betrayal within the hierarchy of the circle. It was addictive. She had been good at it, and, at the time, had hated to leave. Not that anyone could ever know that. Truth be told, she had resented her brother for trusting her enough to make Voldemort's plan a viable option, and had, in moments of weakness, blamed him entirely for not only his own death, but also her forced departure from the Dark Lord's circle. Given time, she might've outranked Severus... which had been her ultimate goal to begin with.
And, look how that turned out, she chided herself pitilessly. Severus is right. You're the last one who should be in charge of making plans.
Sighing deeply, she returned to the library to the comfy chair she'd claimed as her own and tried to tune out the noise of the celebration just over the meadow.
Three hours later, Severus was still asleep, and Emily was entertaining hopes of his staying that way. His potions were doing wonders for his injuries, and soon he would be as sound as he'd ever been. But presently he was exhausted, his body concentrating all of its energy on healing the wounds and replenishing lost blood.
With the potions master out like a candle and night rapidly approaching, a heavy silence fell over the house. The music could be heard louder than ever and a mercilessly cheerful melody, an infectious rhythm, and mounting magical energy called to her from across the meadow.
Shortly before sunset, she closed her book with an irritated sigh, and submitted to its power.
As quick and silent as a mouse, she tiptoed down to the kitchens to find Liri. He was, of course, hard at work, overseeing the chopping of vegetables by a host of independently-moving kitchen knives.
"Liri?"
The tiny elf started, then turned and bowed low, his ears twitching with joy as they always did when she visited.
"Liri is honored by your presence, Madam."
"And, I'm always glad to see you."
"Is Madam needing something? Liri is honored to provide for her."
She smiled kindly. "I know you are, and I appreciate it." Crouching down, she motioned the little creature forward. "I need a favor, Liri."
"Liri is most honored to be sought out by the master's lady for assistance."
Emily paused at the phrase 'the master's lady,' then smiled broadly. Oh, yes. She could certainly get used to that.
"That's good because this is really important." The little elf's eyes grew even larger in anticipation. "I have to nip out for a little while, and I need for you to keep an eye on Severus for me." She presented the back of her left hand where a symbol was carved very faintly into the skin. "This is a summoning rune. If you'll allow me, I'll inscribe another onto your hand, then you can summon me if I'm needed. Okay?"
Liri nodded enthusiastically. "Liri would be most honored to bear the lady's mark."
She chuckled lightly. "That's my little elfling. Now, hold still. This might sting."
That done, she slipped out and apparated to the edge of town where bonfires by the dozen, flickering merrily in the fading sunlight, painted the town with dancing partners of shadow and light. Of course there were other dancers there as well; humans and spirits and vampires, some costumed, some barely clothed at all, twirling and twisting around the fires to a beat so deep that it echoed in the bones. Gods! All these years away and the Solstice celebration had not changed a bit. Then again, according to popular legend, it had not changed in many centuries.
All around, and most importantly, directly beside her, were vendors hawking masks and slinky robes. Not two feet away, a blood red, heavily-beaded costume with a matching, feathered mask caught her eye, and she hastened to formulate a plan for acquiring it. There were two vendors working the stall, both fairly occupied with customers, and for some reason the robes which, in her opinion, should have been featured grandly were folded casually in a corner and almost completely ignored. Almost, but not entirely, not enough for a clean bit of larceny.
Quickly, she cast a disillusionment charm which would not conceal her completely, but would make her less noticeable, especially with all of this traffic. Speaking of which, she couldn't have asked for a sweeter distraction than the scantily-clad dancer who had completely caught the attention of the two middle-aged wizards running the stall. Emily grinned wickedly.
Suckers.
Almost shivering with nerves (as it had been years since she'd done anything like this) she moved in a crouch to the side of the stall, where she waited a moment, thanking the Fates for her much smaller proportions as the vendors turned to observe a group of wizards pointed out by their new customer. Quickly enough, they turned back and she snatched the robes and mask from the counter, swiftly moving another red mask to cover the newly-created space. After a second's deliberation, she also took a small coin bag from the bottom shelf, then she was gone.
By the time she'd managed to find a shadow behind a cafe, slip out of her old robes, and wriggle into the new ones, the sun had set completely, and the celebration had begun to build a darker, more mystical energy.
It was obvious, after she'd actually managed to get into the mask and robes and conjure a mirror, why they'd been shunted to the side. They were obviously fitted for a much younger witch, an adolescent, perhaps, who hadn't begun to develop any of the typical womanly curves, but the evening celebration of Solstice was off limits to underage witches and wizards, hence their lack of prominence within the stall. Unfortunately, the robes fit like a second skin, and she was no great shakes at magical alterations. Damn Severus' gift with potions! A week ago, these would've been falling off of me, she thought bitterly. First time I've ever been pissed to find I have breasts and hips, she thought, leaving the shadows to join the throng in the street.
Once among the crowd it was difficult to decide what to do first. Around the fires, people were dancing - some on their own, but mostly in couples. It was unlikely she'd find much amusement there. Instead she perused the vendors which lined the streets, remembering to steer clear of the one she'd "visited" previously. There were only a few sickles and galleons in the little velvet bag she'd swiped. Likely, it was only there for making change, but it was more than enough to procure a double shot of firewhiskey which she tossed back at once. In only a few minutes, the lights were brighter, the entertainers funnier, and her worries much less cumbersome than they were when she arrived. Still, she was a bit more inebriated than she'd planned to be. Shaking her head a bit in the hopes of clearing it, she swore to never, ever again swallow a double shot after a sixteen-year alcohol purge.
For a long while she wandered about the vendors, peering in at fascinating wares and wishing they weren't so heavily warded before finally throwing her shyness to the wind and sliding into a circle of dancers at the edge of town. Several wizards caught her up and twirled her in their arms as the music played, her costume no doubt bringing about most of the attention. But, she cared nothing for the reason. Only the pounding drumbeat and her bare feet skimming over the grass and the laughter of her fleeting suitors mattered anymore.
After the merry dance ended, the unseen band struck up another tune, a sensual, serpentine drumbeat with a melody that was primitive at best. It was a dance for couples who were closer than she would ever be to any of these men, but as she slipped out of the firelight, a strong arm encircled her waist, bringing with it the distinctive smell of wealth and whiskey, an intoxicating combination.
"Leaving so soon?" a cultured voice whispered in her ear, pulling her close against a tall, tight body. "I've been watching you for some time, waiting for an opportunity to have the pleasure." He turned her then, effortlessly, and gazed down into her face, his Herne mask glittering in the flickering light. "Would you deny me that?"
Emily blinked hard, trying to focus. The eyes and voice were distinctly familiar, and that couldn't be good. She should leave, but her head was clouded and she was sick of playing everything so safe. This man was attractive, obviously dangerous, and vastly more interesting than an unconscious potions master.
To Hell with it.
"Your pleasure is mine, Mr....?"
He merely gave a secretive smile and swept her back to the fire, leading her into the slithering, sensual dance with practiced ease. It was awkward at first, the steps unfamiliar, but he was a masterful lead and soon he had her hips melded to his, twisting and writhing in a dance that was closer to fornication than celebration. Indeed his mouth spent more time mating with hers than it did speaking or holding its silence. Soon, though, her violent blush faded along with her inhibitions as he led her down the path her instincts wished to go, whispering hinted promises of pleasure in her ear.
When the music ended at last, she allowed him to sweep her away to a shadowed shop front with a whisper of "Don't move, little one," while he left to procure drinks for them both. He returned swiftly with two glasses of dark brandy and a wicked smile.
"Oh, no," she protested weakly. "I've really had too much."
"On a night of celebration?" he argued lightly, leaning in close, effectively pinning her to the wall. "Never. These are dark times, Madam," he added soberly, a hint of danger in his voice that shot through her like lightning. "Best you enjoy the fun while it lasts."
She nodded mutely, wholly amazed by her own acquiescence as she swallowed the bitter liquid with a long, slow pull. She had no sooner lowered the glass than the world went watery and spun around her, and before she could utter a protest he had pulled her stumbling form behind the building into the shadows.
Instinctively, she opened her mouth to cry out, but he silenced her with a long black wand at her throat. "Not at all a wise course of action, precious," he said in a voice as cold as ice and suddenly utterly unmistakable.
Her heart began to flutter wildly as three other figures materialized suddenly from the shadows behind him, shrouded in black and wearing hauntingly-familiar masks that had nothing to do with the celebration. She was suddenly shaking with fear and wondering, frantically, where her breath had gone.
"Now, don't look at me like that," he chided. "You should never drink anything given you by a strange wizard." Two of his companions chuckled darkly as they slipped behind her and took her arms in an inflexible hold. "Shame on you, precious," he continued. "A grown woman should know better."
He tilted her head with a tap of his finger on her chin, and looked deeply into her eyes. "Whatever happens to you tonight is your own fault. Trust is a liability one can ill afford. A pity you won't live long enough to utilize the lesson."
Suddenly she was moving, struggling as best she could in her severely drugged state within the arms of her captors. They held her with hardly any effort, laughing openly at her attempts. "Ah yes, love," he encouraged, freezing her actions in an instant. "Do fight. It makes the conquest that much sweeter."
"Is she pure?" the taller wizard to his left asked in a rough voice.
"Oh, she's as pure as new-fallen snow," he assured them. "An untainted vessel just waiting to be defiled. Isn't that right, sweet?" She glared furiously, unable to do much else. "Oh, don't tell me you've changed your mind. Five minutes ago, you were imagining all manner of perversion." The men holding her laughed again. "Where a virgin came upon such filthy ideas is quite beyond me, but no need to worry. I won't allow these ruffians to take what you've faithfully kept for so many years." He kissed her again, roughly, then bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. She stilled completely when he began to clean the wound with a long, slow lick, groaning into her mouth at the taste of her blood. "That is mine," he continued wrathfully.
"Fuck you, Lucius," she spat.
His face fell at once.
"Now, you're catching on," he whispered, closing the distance with a single step. She tried again to resist, but the other Death Eaters held her in a vice, and her limbs felt suspiciously like melted wax. "But you appear to have the advantage, and that is wholly unacceptable."
In one motion, he removed his mask and reached for hers. She turned her face away with a whimper of protest, but he caught her chin in a bruising grip, violently wrenching her gaze back to his. With a carefully deliberate motion, he peeled her mask away and stared down into her face with a curious expression.
After a moment, she saw with rising horror, the comprehension dawn in his eyes, his face transforming before her eyes into a mask of pure evil.
"Well, well, well," he whispered, obviously delighted at his discovery, "Emily Grey. This is a surprise."
Author's note:
Hi, all! First, let me thank those of you who reviewed the chapters I recently posted. I really appreciated your kind words. After all, I'd paid an extra $150.00 to get my computer back quickly so that I could keep writing. For those of you who usually do review and didn't, I am forced to ask: Did the last five chapters really suck that badly??!! I usually get more feedback on a single chapter than I did on those five. Please, please let me know what I'm doing wrong here. Is it boring? Because, things are about to get (I hope) much more interesting. Has my writing style deteriorated? Does the story just suck? A little response, please? I know it's pathetic, but when I don't get reviews, I begin to second guess myself. I lose confidence, and writing becomes much more of a chore than a joy. I want you guys to be happy, because your happiness (as far as the story is concerned) is mine. I'm here. Talk to me. Oh! Also, I just realized that I was in such a hurry to post the update after my absence that I completely neglected to answer the reviews for chapter eight. I'm really sorry about that. I'm a doodie-head. I will remedy that oversight here.
Teenage Zombie: You will definitely have to wait, and I'm glad that you don't mind. I, like you, don't really enjoy it when a love scene is rushed. Sex scenes? Yes. No problem. Two people meet. The attraction is there. I see no reason to avoid consummating physical attraction. After all, that's exactly what happened in my last story. But, love is a different matter. Thank you so much for the review! I appreciate you.
Captain Oblivious: "Together-ish?" How cute is that description? I love it! Thanks for approving of the time it took. As this is love and not lust, I didn't want to rush things as I felt licensed to do in the Alex stories. I seriously feared that I would bore my readers with the wait, but it would seem that some approve. Goody! (Hops up and down and claps hands). As for your chapter eight review, again, thank you. I hope that the history does indeed flesh this story out a bit. Bless you for commenting on the banter, as well. I am ridiculously particular about the dialogue I write and hearing that someone enjoys it is music to my ears... as pleasant as Sarah Brightman, I swear!
Quietude: What can I say about a reviewer so precious that he/she would review all five chapters individually? I am overwhelmed with gratitude that you would go to so much trouble and have no idea how to communicate to you how much I appreciated the gesture. I should at least tell you that I was so touched I cried. Not many people reviewed this huge update and I was feeling terribly discouraged when I came home from an extra-long shift at work to find five reviews in my box. Thank you so much! As for the reviews themselves: Ch. 8: If my Severus ever does get sappy, for Merlin's sake, Please Tell Me! I despise sap, especially when it's applied to Severus. Your "big, stupid grin" brings a pretty big smile to my face, as well, I assure you. Ch. 9: You're right about my obsession with Knockturn Alley and its shopkeepers. Being a retailer myself, I am always fascinated by unusual stores, and the ones on Knockturn Alley just sound incredible! I suppose the shopkeepers themselves are just my sick way of living out personal fantasies. Isabelle, for example, is so my type, and hey! with the addition of the shop she owns, we automatically have something in common! I became so damned attached to her while writing those chapters that I've seriously begun to put together the story of Isabelle and Snape which takes place over the course of the last few HP books. What do you think? As for my putting a "stupid smile" on your face, I can only say YYYAAAYYY!!! When my readers are smiling (or begging for the resolution of a cliffhanger) I am simply thrilled. Ch. 10: Isn't Snape just a deadly, feral little bastard when he's caught off-guard? That's probably my favorite facet of his character, so I'm glad that you approve. I can see Emily's humiliation at suddenly being the weak, helpless one in a situation that is the complete opposite of what she's accustomed to. Bless you for your compliment on my "Snape speech." I absolutely agonize over his dialogue! It's so important to me that he remain in character, and his manner of speaking is a huge part of that! Ch. 11: Damn! My ignorance rears its ugly head once more! Meekly, twisting her hands in her lap, Escaped asks, "Um, Quietude, what's UST?" Sorry about Snape's self-control, but I can't help it. He's just not the type to say "to hell with the consequences" and leap into bed with his prisoner. It's not his way. We'll all just have to wait. I'm happy that you are so taken with the idea of Severus returning to Voldemort of his own free will. I've never seen him as the type of person to allow anyone to make a decision like that for him. He seems to me to be much more the type to take charge of his role in the war. And, I simply cannot see Severus as a noble man. He's too petty and cruel. Damn, I love that about him! Ch.12: Glad you liked the banter. Thanks. Once again, I agonize over the dialogue, so that's always nice to hear! Ch. 13: Ah! I knew some of you would catch that! I'll be building on Eric's character in bits and pieces for rest of the story, so his actions will be explained... eventually. There is no real significance in their knowing one another since early childhood. It is, as you say, simply a matter of pure-blood families associating. There are reasons that the two of them spend so much time together growing up, but I'll fill in those blanks as we go along. I can tell you that it had more to do with the parents than the children. And, to end, Quietude, honey, if I have spoiled you, then I regret nothing. I have decided that you are definitely worth spoiling. Your reviews really, really made my whole month, and made me want to keep writing! Again, I appreciate you. Thanks.
Sesshomaru's Angel: Thanks for the good word! I appreciate it!
Queen of the Faeries: Escaped blushes furiously and hides her face. Uh-oh. It would appear that you have discovered the truth. I suppose I do have a lamentable tendency to tease. Should I apologize or giggle? I just don't know. Maybe I'll do both, one right after the other. I'm glad to have my computer back, as well. Thanks for chiming in. I always love to hear from you! As for your chapter eight review (which I forgot to answer because I'm a big doodie-head - see above) I'm happy to hear that you approve of her getting a wand. I thought it would be rather senseless of him to keep risking her life when he could manage to keep the wand a secret from Dumbledore, and convince her to do the same. I like Severus when he's gentle as well... as long as he's never sappy. As I mentioned to Quietude, that's just revolting!
Elessar Evenstar: Thank you so much for your review of chapter eight! I like the thought of Severus having a lover who is just that, not a romantic suitor or a shudder girlfriend, but a simple bedwarmer. That's just about right for him, I think. I'm so happy to hear that you enjoyed the chapter and are (hopefully) enjoying the story. By the way, I'm glad that you finished your essay and won't get any harsh punishments from your English teacher. Unless he looks like Severus or Lucius and you're into pain. In that case, you might want to start acting up. I know I would! Was that sick? (Blush) Sorry!
Intel Ewok: Yes. You have the right idea. The runes are deadly, and as powerful as our beloved potions master can be, he's still not strong enough to protect them both. It was only logical to get a wand for her. I actually considered having Severus call for backup, but then I remembered that, in all the books, he was ridiculously independent. When the entire staff left to see about the troll, he went straight to the third floor corridor. He stayed on Quirrell for that entire book without going to anyone else about his suspicions. He's so damn proud that I think it would rankle him to volunteer for a task (especially one which was vied for by one of his arch rivals) and not be strong enough to handle it. I'm not saying he shouldn't have, I'm merely suggesting that, being such a stubborn git, he probably wouldn't. Thank you so much for the review. Sorry I didn't answer it in my last chapters. I'm a poophead.