Chapter Two - A Letter

Opening the door to the study, Snape found Wormtail right outside the door in a hunched position, his head turned as if he had been listening through the keyhole.

Snape pointed his wand at the ratty little man. "What did I tell you about listening at keyholes, Pettigrew? he snarled, fighting to keep a pink blush away from his sallow cheeks.

Wormtail gave an evil little smile of acknowledgement that Snape disliked instantly. Issuing a loud crack with his wand, Snape uttered a few incantations at Wormtail, who looked as if he had been whipped and scampered down the hallway yelping and clutching his bottom.

'And bring me some elf wine!' Snape he yelled angrily behind him.

Ten minutes later, Snape sat at his bedside desk, writing a letter to Lord Voldemort and sipping a glass of the blood-red wine. He hoped that Wormtail did not suspect his feelings for Bellatrix, otherwise he would have to use a tricky little obliviation charm. But right now his thoughts were bend on writing this letter.

How to start? He knew better than to betray his own beleif that to argue with the Dark Lord's plans was perhaps the stupidest thing you could do. He re-wrote it for the seventh time.

Dark Lord,

Bellatrix is too hard to look after; she sleeps in my study rather than in the spare room i have provided for her and breaks my things. I request that she could be sent to the Malfoy Manor where she will be able to be looked after and provided for better.

Sending you my utmost regards,

S. Snape

'I would not be in this situation,' Snape thought ruefully, looking at the clock on the wall above his bed, 'If I had not made the unbreakable vow last year with Narcissa Malfoy. I would be in my office at Hogwarts right now, grading papers and rating everyone a 0.'

But it had his desire to impress Bellatrix that had lead him to the unbreakable oath, which he followed right to the death of Dumbledore.

'I really have fucked things up quite a bit this time.' He muttered to himself miserably. 'And she doesn't even think differently of me.'

A small cough came from the doorway. Snape's heart leapt into his throat as he tuned around and saw Bellatrix standing behind him, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks swollen, her hair a matted mess falling down to her waist and her dress robes unchanged in days. She looked as if she had hardly enough energy for the usual sneer, and held herself up by mearely leaning against the doorframe. Quickly Snape stuffed the letter under a book and turned to look at her enquiringly.

'Thirsty.' Bellatrix croaked. She looked covertly at the drink in Snapes hand. 'Wheres wine. Want some. Give it.'

Snape paused for a while, then poured her a glass. She had not eaten or drunken in days, Her lips were dry and cracked her voice almost gone. It would have been infinatly better to feed her water and a sandwich, but at least this was a start, and Snape didn't particularly want her turning violent again, although it had its entertaining purposes.

He offered the glass to her and she snatched it rudely, along with the three-quarter filled bottle of wine that he had been preserving on his desk, and a couple more smaller bottles of laquer sitting on his mantle piece. Proceeding to glug the wine as she loped out of the study, Bellatrix made her grandure exit. Snape looked at the door where she had left for a while.

Turning back to his letter, smirking a little, he crumpled it up and threw it into the wastepaper basket which sat underneath his desk.

PR&R/rigamortis.