Chapter 10
The next few days pass by quickly and uneventfully, as I move my plan firmly ahead. Severus continues to throw me odd looks, as does Albus, neither of them entirely trusting me. At meals taken in the Great Hall, I remain at the side of my werewolf, as Albus has not yet banished him back to Grimmauld Place.
Remus and I have resumed our friendship, much to Severus's consternation. Though it has, from my end, stayed entirely platonic this go around, Remus, I fear, is falling into step with old emotions. I am counting on that a little. It will buy me some insurance when I am to meet the Order of the Phoenix outright--a meeting Albus says is to take place this evening.
With Severus, Albus and Remus solidly on my side, and Minerva softening to me, I may be able to convince the rest of them to accept me. The Dark Lord has been quiet during my reacclimation to England; Severus has not been called. That is beginning to worry him.
I have planned a trip to Diagon Alley for the afternoon. Severus went to Malfoy Manor yester eve to talk to Narcissa about Draco's inheritance. He has not yet told me how it went. He, in fact, returned quite late, too late too talk. I occasionally look his direction at breakfast, but he gives me no indication of how things are progressing, merely to say Narcissa expressed interest in seeing me. Hence the wholly unnecessary trip to Diagon Alley.
I am currently dressing in our quarters. The mirror is thankfully quiet as I pile my hair on top of my head. I have never seen the point of being proficient in the 'womanly arts' of doing myself up. I am dressed carefully in quiet gray robes over a simple black dress, both made of heavy fabric. As I continue to struggle with pins and muttered spells, neither having an effect on my rat's nest of hair, I feel hands force mine out of the way.
Severus's face has appeared in the mirror, standing behind me. With deliberate movements his strong hands, in four gestures, have my hair staying in place, elaborately and artfully, arranged on top of my head. I widen my eyes in amazement.
Noticing my expression he chuckles, "One of the more obscure talents I have learned during my years as head of Slytherin is that comforting homesickness in the first years girls is to play with their hair. That information, incidentally, is never to leave these rooms."
My expression turns to a smile. "I would never have pegged you for the comforting type, Severus."
"There are things we all learn about ourselves when forced into the situation. It is preferable to me, and my Slytherins, if the first years do not cower in fright and make themselves sick from longing for home. If the older students cannot comfort them, they know I may be called upon. I have always stressed the importance of not showing weakness outside our own house, as we will not receive any sympathy. But, we must band together and be strong, undivided. To that end, I find myself occasionally playing mother and nursemaid. Would it amuse you to find I regularly have lovesick teenagers coming to me for advice on how to woo and court one another?" Severus has delivered these revelations with his eyes downcast, his fingers focused on a spot of fraying frabric on his left cuff.
"Kindly do not snort, Bena, it is most unbecoming." he says of my response.
I turn to him, snaking my arms around his back, pulling him closer. I breathe deeply, inhaling his scent. He does not wear a cologne, or eau de toilette as many men; he smells of potions. Today that smell includes the musty smell of earth, from the roots he has been cutting, and something else, which I think is cinnamon. He must be brewing the Wolfsbane for Remus.
Pulling myself away, I am startled by the look in his eyes. I have seen it sporadically over the past five days since my arrival, and I have yet to decipher it. I have asked him, but he refuses to enlighten me.
"I must be on my way." I say, extricating myself fully from his embrace. He steps back and glances me over.
"You need some silver," he says critically, "Narcissa will not be seen with just anyone, regardless of who you may be married to. Come."
I follow him to the bedroom, where, from the closet, he pulls a box of cherry, inlaid with the Snape family crest. Opening it, he extracts a large silver broach.
"This was to be given to you on our....wedding day," he falters, his voice clipping the words, "but, I never had the chance. It, it has been in our family for hundreds of years, always passing down during weddings to the next generation. My mother had given it to me, to give to you. I had it in my hand when I....when I was called."
My face arranges itself in an expression of pain. Though we have spent much of the past five days in each other's presence, we neither of us have had the strength to speak of the event that tore us apart. Feeling that Narcissa can wait, I ask the first of several things that has been on my mind.
"Severus, why was Minerva looking for you the night I arrived."
A moment's silence, then he responds, obviously choosing his words carefully. "Minerva and I have, over the past fourteen years since I began teaching, created a ritual of spending that evening together. We usually sit, drink wine, and talk about everything; everything except that. I find it difficult to get through that day."
"Why?"
"Why? Because that day represents everything that went wrong in my world." He says harshly. "Until that day I was able to function normally as a Death Eater. I had sponsorship for my work, I had a fiancé, I had a future, and I believed in the strength of pure-bloods. When you left, no, when you fled, it forced me to look closer at what we were doing,
"Bena, it didn't start out as muggle baiting and torturing. The first time Lucius brought me to hear the Dark Lord talk, it was magnificent. He went on at great length at how our mingling with muggles and intermarrying had weakened our culture and our magic. How we had allowed wizarding blood to be diluted and its value lessen. It made sense.
That you couldn't see that frustrated me. But, when he asked, when the Dark Lord demanded, that as proof of my loyalty, I would take your life....I realized how deranged he had become. I had no intention of killing you that night."
I stare at him. "I do not believe you. You came at me, wand raised. You cursed me. You threw the Impediment Curse and and the Imperious at me!"
"Yes, but do you remember what I told you to do while under the imperius? I told you to flee. I told you to run. Lucius and Regulus were with me; I had to be convincing. Fortunately, your dueling skills were quite advanced, so I was not forced to immibilize the two of them myself. I would not have harmed you."
"Yet you did, Severus. My wrist was broken by the time I escaped and fled to Hogwarts. I was frightened out of my wits. We had been married seven hours, Severus, when you attacked me. Albus took me in and immediately arranged for an illegal international floo. I didn't have anything of my own when I fled. I had my wedding robes, a pair of slippers, and my wand. That was all."
By now both our eyes are shining, neither of us willing to cry.
Severus continues on; I no longer trust my voice to speak. "It was not long after I found out about the Dark Lord's plan to kill the Potters. The murder of an innocent child, combined with your requested murder, proved to me how disturbed and unhinged he had become, and I was unable to follow him any more. I went to Albus, who believed me."
I know Severus has not told many people this. I never knew his reasons for turning from Voldemort. It is a small comfort to know I was part of it. I stare at our clasped hands for a few moments longer, before shaking myself.
I bring a hand up to my eyes to wipe away the tears that have formed and take the broach from his hand. "Did your mother want me to have this?"
"Of course not," he replies, smiling, "but she wasn't a Snape, and father approved of our marriage, so she had no choice. Here, let me." He says, taking it from me.
Standing behind me, he reaches his arms around me and fastens the broach at my neck, where it sits, gleaming.
Turning me to face him, he reaches in for a kiss. "Now you are ready to take on Narcissa Malfoy. Keep your guard up. Be aware she is not good at Occlumency, though she can detect when someone is using Legimency on her. She is excellent at lying. Please Bena," he stops me at the door with a soft hand on my wrist, "keep your guard up. Your life depends upon it."
The next few days pass by quickly and uneventfully, as I move my plan firmly ahead. Severus continues to throw me odd looks, as does Albus, neither of them entirely trusting me. At meals taken in the Great Hall, I remain at the side of my werewolf, as Albus has not yet banished him back to Grimmauld Place.
Remus and I have resumed our friendship, much to Severus's consternation. Though it has, from my end, stayed entirely platonic this go around, Remus, I fear, is falling into step with old emotions. I am counting on that a little. It will buy me some insurance when I am to meet the Order of the Phoenix outright--a meeting Albus says is to take place this evening.
With Severus, Albus and Remus solidly on my side, and Minerva softening to me, I may be able to convince the rest of them to accept me. The Dark Lord has been quiet during my reacclimation to England; Severus has not been called. That is beginning to worry him.
I have planned a trip to Diagon Alley for the afternoon. Severus went to Malfoy Manor yester eve to talk to Narcissa about Draco's inheritance. He has not yet told me how it went. He, in fact, returned quite late, too late too talk. I occasionally look his direction at breakfast, but he gives me no indication of how things are progressing, merely to say Narcissa expressed interest in seeing me. Hence the wholly unnecessary trip to Diagon Alley.
I am currently dressing in our quarters. The mirror is thankfully quiet as I pile my hair on top of my head. I have never seen the point of being proficient in the 'womanly arts' of doing myself up. I am dressed carefully in quiet gray robes over a simple black dress, both made of heavy fabric. As I continue to struggle with pins and muttered spells, neither having an effect on my rat's nest of hair, I feel hands force mine out of the way.
Severus's face has appeared in the mirror, standing behind me. With deliberate movements his strong hands, in four gestures, have my hair staying in place, elaborately and artfully, arranged on top of my head. I widen my eyes in amazement.
Noticing my expression he chuckles, "One of the more obscure talents I have learned during my years as head of Slytherin is that comforting homesickness in the first years girls is to play with their hair. That information, incidentally, is never to leave these rooms."
My expression turns to a smile. "I would never have pegged you for the comforting type, Severus."
"There are things we all learn about ourselves when forced into the situation. It is preferable to me, and my Slytherins, if the first years do not cower in fright and make themselves sick from longing for home. If the older students cannot comfort them, they know I may be called upon. I have always stressed the importance of not showing weakness outside our own house, as we will not receive any sympathy. But, we must band together and be strong, undivided. To that end, I find myself occasionally playing mother and nursemaid. Would it amuse you to find I regularly have lovesick teenagers coming to me for advice on how to woo and court one another?" Severus has delivered these revelations with his eyes downcast, his fingers focused on a spot of fraying frabric on his left cuff.
"Kindly do not snort, Bena, it is most unbecoming." he says of my response.
I turn to him, snaking my arms around his back, pulling him closer. I breathe deeply, inhaling his scent. He does not wear a cologne, or eau de toilette as many men; he smells of potions. Today that smell includes the musty smell of earth, from the roots he has been cutting, and something else, which I think is cinnamon. He must be brewing the Wolfsbane for Remus.
Pulling myself away, I am startled by the look in his eyes. I have seen it sporadically over the past five days since my arrival, and I have yet to decipher it. I have asked him, but he refuses to enlighten me.
"I must be on my way." I say, extricating myself fully from his embrace. He steps back and glances me over.
"You need some silver," he says critically, "Narcissa will not be seen with just anyone, regardless of who you may be married to. Come."
I follow him to the bedroom, where, from the closet, he pulls a box of cherry, inlaid with the Snape family crest. Opening it, he extracts a large silver broach.
"This was to be given to you on our....wedding day," he falters, his voice clipping the words, "but, I never had the chance. It, it has been in our family for hundreds of years, always passing down during weddings to the next generation. My mother had given it to me, to give to you. I had it in my hand when I....when I was called."
My face arranges itself in an expression of pain. Though we have spent much of the past five days in each other's presence, we neither of us have had the strength to speak of the event that tore us apart. Feeling that Narcissa can wait, I ask the first of several things that has been on my mind.
"Severus, why was Minerva looking for you the night I arrived."
A moment's silence, then he responds, obviously choosing his words carefully. "Minerva and I have, over the past fourteen years since I began teaching, created a ritual of spending that evening together. We usually sit, drink wine, and talk about everything; everything except that. I find it difficult to get through that day."
"Why?"
"Why? Because that day represents everything that went wrong in my world." He says harshly. "Until that day I was able to function normally as a Death Eater. I had sponsorship for my work, I had a fiancé, I had a future, and I believed in the strength of pure-bloods. When you left, no, when you fled, it forced me to look closer at what we were doing,
"Bena, it didn't start out as muggle baiting and torturing. The first time Lucius brought me to hear the Dark Lord talk, it was magnificent. He went on at great length at how our mingling with muggles and intermarrying had weakened our culture and our magic. How we had allowed wizarding blood to be diluted and its value lessen. It made sense.
That you couldn't see that frustrated me. But, when he asked, when the Dark Lord demanded, that as proof of my loyalty, I would take your life....I realized how deranged he had become. I had no intention of killing you that night."
I stare at him. "I do not believe you. You came at me, wand raised. You cursed me. You threw the Impediment Curse and and the Imperious at me!"
"Yes, but do you remember what I told you to do while under the imperius? I told you to flee. I told you to run. Lucius and Regulus were with me; I had to be convincing. Fortunately, your dueling skills were quite advanced, so I was not forced to immibilize the two of them myself. I would not have harmed you."
"Yet you did, Severus. My wrist was broken by the time I escaped and fled to Hogwarts. I was frightened out of my wits. We had been married seven hours, Severus, when you attacked me. Albus took me in and immediately arranged for an illegal international floo. I didn't have anything of my own when I fled. I had my wedding robes, a pair of slippers, and my wand. That was all."
By now both our eyes are shining, neither of us willing to cry.
Severus continues on; I no longer trust my voice to speak. "It was not long after I found out about the Dark Lord's plan to kill the Potters. The murder of an innocent child, combined with your requested murder, proved to me how disturbed and unhinged he had become, and I was unable to follow him any more. I went to Albus, who believed me."
I know Severus has not told many people this. I never knew his reasons for turning from Voldemort. It is a small comfort to know I was part of it. I stare at our clasped hands for a few moments longer, before shaking myself.
I bring a hand up to my eyes to wipe away the tears that have formed and take the broach from his hand. "Did your mother want me to have this?"
"Of course not," he replies, smiling, "but she wasn't a Snape, and father approved of our marriage, so she had no choice. Here, let me." He says, taking it from me.
Standing behind me, he reaches his arms around me and fastens the broach at my neck, where it sits, gleaming.
Turning me to face him, he reaches in for a kiss. "Now you are ready to take on Narcissa Malfoy. Keep your guard up. Be aware she is not good at Occlumency, though she can detect when someone is using Legimency on her. She is excellent at lying. Please Bena," he stops me at the door with a soft hand on my wrist, "keep your guard up. Your life depends upon it."