Chapter 9:
A few hours later I languidly rise from the bed, Severus still resting beside me. I lightly brush my lips to his forehead and prepare myself for a interesting reunion with the werewolf.
Knocking tentatively, I hear Remus answer. I walk in slowly, carefully assessing my surroundings. The room is comfortable. Several dark creatures, including a grind low in a cage, are situated around the room. I notice behind his desk is a large sign stating the myths that abound about werewolves. The man himself is seated at the desk, papers covering it.
He has capped his quill and is smiling pleasantly at me, waiting for me to speak. I feign uneasiness and move my hands around each other, biting on the edge of my lip. "At what age level do you start the grind low?" I begin.
His smile widens and he leans back in his chair. "No, Bena, we will not do this. I had quite forgotten until this morning why the name Bena Hummel sounded familiar. But now I do remember. Have you told your husband?"
"There is nothing to tell." I reply coldly.
"No? You don't think Severus would mind his wife sleeping with a werewolf? Because I do." his voice, though soft, contains a menacing edge to it. I tread forward carefully.
"It has been eighteen years since Severus and I last saw one another. I do not expect perfection from him, and I sincerely doubt he expects it from me." I say, lying directly. From my mornings exertions, I know as truth that Severus was faithful. The lust potion on his nightstand turned out to be an obscure potion for muscle relaxation, one he finds useful after he has been tortured.
Remus relaxes slightly, "No, I suppose not. Still, knowing how highly he regards me," he says sarcastically, "I do not think it would be in your best interest for this to become well-known."
"Are you threatening me, Remus?" His smile belies the malice in his eyes. I continue on, determined to squash this idea, "What you and I shared was not love, Remus. It was lust. You were a broken man. You had just lost all that was dear to you. The Potters were dead, Peter was dead, and Sirius was a murderer. You needed consoling; you needed physical comfort. And that is what I provided. Nothing more."
I harshly ignore the images of passion and heat flaring up in my mind's eye. The months with Remus were among the most volatile in my life, and I have little desire to relive them. There were not strictly passion and lust I know. There were times of exquisite contentment; of quiet and sharing and, though I am loath to admit it, love.
"And you, dear Bena? What was it that I provided for you? You were not broken."
"Oh no? Having only months before been run out of England with Death Eaters on my trail? Severus had been ordered to murder me, and he meant to go through with it. You're right, Remus, I was right as rain." My voice contains all the emotion that has welled up in my throat. This is not how I wanted this to go. I struggle to regain control as we sit in silence for awhile.
Remus clears his throat. "I am sorry, Bena. Of course you were not much better off than me. My apologies. If, if you would like, we could go over my lesson plans." his feeble apology only angers me further, and I shake me head. No, I will dive in with the plan.
"Did Black leave a will?"
Remus starts, as though he has been slapped. I make no gesture to explain my non sequiter, simply allowing the question to hang there.
Finally, Remus clears his throat. "What did you ask?"
"Sirius Black, Remus. Did he leave a will?" Ruthlessly I tread on, ignoring the pain in his voice.
"No. No, he didn't. And even if he had--he hasn't been officially declared dead by the Ministry. Shacklebolt is still in charge of the search for him. Dumbledore didn't want the Ministry knowing he was there that night."
He has told me all this, assuming I am a member of the Order. For now, I am too close my target to care about baiting him that I might not be entirely trustworthy. "So there is no will."
He looks at me oddly. "No, but neither has he been declared dead."
"Thank you, Remus. I look forward to another chat with you again soon." and I sweep magnificently out of his office, leaving him very confused, as was my mission.
I stride immediately back to the dungeons. By this time in the afternoon, Severus has roused himself. It is almost endearing the way he is shuffling around his rooms. He has, I noticed, cleared off two shelves from the far corner, and two of the paintings have come down from the walls. On the table in front of the sofa, there is a tea service for two.
Perhaps having a doting husband could be good for me. I also notice my bags have been sent down by the house elves. It is then I narrow my eyes more closely at Severus. He has moved to the far corner. He is putting my books on the previously emptied shelves. I feel a deep shift within me. It has begun. I am becoming a wife.
I have books on a shelf, I will soon have paintings on the walls. My clothes will hang beside his, and we shall awaken in each other's arms. Frightening.
"Severus," I drawl to gain his attention, "am I correct in assuming Lucius named you godfather to his son?"
He straightens and looks at me sharply. "Yes," he begins slowly, wondering why I am inquiring. "yes, Lucius and Narcissa named me guardian to Draco. Why?"
"I was just up talking to Remus. Black left no will."
Severus narrows his eyes. "So?"
The Blacks, as well as other pure-blood wizarding families, have an inheritance law that states that, should a family find itself without a direct heir, the property and all monies attached shall go to the nearest blood kin. Sirius is dead. Regulus is dead. Next in line would be Bellatrix, but she has forfeited because she was in Azkaban. Andromeda Black has been disowned, which leaves..."
"Narcissa." Severus breathes. I believe he is beginning to take hold of my idea. "And what passes to Narcissa passes to Draco. And, as Lucius is currently, unavailable for comment, I am acting as the boys male guardian."
I smile slowly. He raises his eyes to me. "The ministry does not consider Black dead."
"Then we shall have to persuade them." I say slyly. He rakes me over with his eyes, trying to discern if I am for real. I take the opportunity to sit on the sofa, positioning myself so he has a clear view down the top of my open robes. It works. He swallows and joins me on the sofa.
"How do you propose we do that?"
"Ah, ah, ah, Severus. If I tell you, where would the fun be? Let me work on this for a few days. You simply keep working on potions, and putting my things away. I need to speak with Minerva."
I kiss him gently on the lips, again hearing the spark intake of breath, before bringing a tea cup to my lips. Looking over the rim at him, I bat my eyes coquettishly. He laughs and I join him.
Oh yes, this is going to fun. Poor Albus. I should have indeed been left in exile across the ocean.
A few hours later I languidly rise from the bed, Severus still resting beside me. I lightly brush my lips to his forehead and prepare myself for a interesting reunion with the werewolf.
Knocking tentatively, I hear Remus answer. I walk in slowly, carefully assessing my surroundings. The room is comfortable. Several dark creatures, including a grind low in a cage, are situated around the room. I notice behind his desk is a large sign stating the myths that abound about werewolves. The man himself is seated at the desk, papers covering it.
He has capped his quill and is smiling pleasantly at me, waiting for me to speak. I feign uneasiness and move my hands around each other, biting on the edge of my lip. "At what age level do you start the grind low?" I begin.
His smile widens and he leans back in his chair. "No, Bena, we will not do this. I had quite forgotten until this morning why the name Bena Hummel sounded familiar. But now I do remember. Have you told your husband?"
"There is nothing to tell." I reply coldly.
"No? You don't think Severus would mind his wife sleeping with a werewolf? Because I do." his voice, though soft, contains a menacing edge to it. I tread forward carefully.
"It has been eighteen years since Severus and I last saw one another. I do not expect perfection from him, and I sincerely doubt he expects it from me." I say, lying directly. From my mornings exertions, I know as truth that Severus was faithful. The lust potion on his nightstand turned out to be an obscure potion for muscle relaxation, one he finds useful after he has been tortured.
Remus relaxes slightly, "No, I suppose not. Still, knowing how highly he regards me," he says sarcastically, "I do not think it would be in your best interest for this to become well-known."
"Are you threatening me, Remus?" His smile belies the malice in his eyes. I continue on, determined to squash this idea, "What you and I shared was not love, Remus. It was lust. You were a broken man. You had just lost all that was dear to you. The Potters were dead, Peter was dead, and Sirius was a murderer. You needed consoling; you needed physical comfort. And that is what I provided. Nothing more."
I harshly ignore the images of passion and heat flaring up in my mind's eye. The months with Remus were among the most volatile in my life, and I have little desire to relive them. There were not strictly passion and lust I know. There were times of exquisite contentment; of quiet and sharing and, though I am loath to admit it, love.
"And you, dear Bena? What was it that I provided for you? You were not broken."
"Oh no? Having only months before been run out of England with Death Eaters on my trail? Severus had been ordered to murder me, and he meant to go through with it. You're right, Remus, I was right as rain." My voice contains all the emotion that has welled up in my throat. This is not how I wanted this to go. I struggle to regain control as we sit in silence for awhile.
Remus clears his throat. "I am sorry, Bena. Of course you were not much better off than me. My apologies. If, if you would like, we could go over my lesson plans." his feeble apology only angers me further, and I shake me head. No, I will dive in with the plan.
"Did Black leave a will?"
Remus starts, as though he has been slapped. I make no gesture to explain my non sequiter, simply allowing the question to hang there.
Finally, Remus clears his throat. "What did you ask?"
"Sirius Black, Remus. Did he leave a will?" Ruthlessly I tread on, ignoring the pain in his voice.
"No. No, he didn't. And even if he had--he hasn't been officially declared dead by the Ministry. Shacklebolt is still in charge of the search for him. Dumbledore didn't want the Ministry knowing he was there that night."
He has told me all this, assuming I am a member of the Order. For now, I am too close my target to care about baiting him that I might not be entirely trustworthy. "So there is no will."
He looks at me oddly. "No, but neither has he been declared dead."
"Thank you, Remus. I look forward to another chat with you again soon." and I sweep magnificently out of his office, leaving him very confused, as was my mission.
I stride immediately back to the dungeons. By this time in the afternoon, Severus has roused himself. It is almost endearing the way he is shuffling around his rooms. He has, I noticed, cleared off two shelves from the far corner, and two of the paintings have come down from the walls. On the table in front of the sofa, there is a tea service for two.
Perhaps having a doting husband could be good for me. I also notice my bags have been sent down by the house elves. It is then I narrow my eyes more closely at Severus. He has moved to the far corner. He is putting my books on the previously emptied shelves. I feel a deep shift within me. It has begun. I am becoming a wife.
I have books on a shelf, I will soon have paintings on the walls. My clothes will hang beside his, and we shall awaken in each other's arms. Frightening.
"Severus," I drawl to gain his attention, "am I correct in assuming Lucius named you godfather to his son?"
He straightens and looks at me sharply. "Yes," he begins slowly, wondering why I am inquiring. "yes, Lucius and Narcissa named me guardian to Draco. Why?"
"I was just up talking to Remus. Black left no will."
Severus narrows his eyes. "So?"
The Blacks, as well as other pure-blood wizarding families, have an inheritance law that states that, should a family find itself without a direct heir, the property and all monies attached shall go to the nearest blood kin. Sirius is dead. Regulus is dead. Next in line would be Bellatrix, but she has forfeited because she was in Azkaban. Andromeda Black has been disowned, which leaves..."
"Narcissa." Severus breathes. I believe he is beginning to take hold of my idea. "And what passes to Narcissa passes to Draco. And, as Lucius is currently, unavailable for comment, I am acting as the boys male guardian."
I smile slowly. He raises his eyes to me. "The ministry does not consider Black dead."
"Then we shall have to persuade them." I say slyly. He rakes me over with his eyes, trying to discern if I am for real. I take the opportunity to sit on the sofa, positioning myself so he has a clear view down the top of my open robes. It works. He swallows and joins me on the sofa.
"How do you propose we do that?"
"Ah, ah, ah, Severus. If I tell you, where would the fun be? Let me work on this for a few days. You simply keep working on potions, and putting my things away. I need to speak with Minerva."
I kiss him gently on the lips, again hearing the spark intake of breath, before bringing a tea cup to my lips. Looking over the rim at him, I bat my eyes coquettishly. He laughs and I join him.
Oh yes, this is going to fun. Poor Albus. I should have indeed been left in exile across the ocean.