Chapter 10
The rest of the week had been filled with tension like never before. Procella had a very Snape worthy scowl on her face on a permanent basis, talked to no one, revoked her mind link with Tonks, wouldn't write anything down on paper to talk to anyone, taught only her lessons, and spent the rest of her time locked away in her room. Even as Tonks tried to gaud her out, she didn't answer in ignorance. In class, she had hand written the instructions with her back to the class, instructing them to write long essays on the theory and situational ethics behind the proper use of wandless, and non incanted magic. The supposed lessons she was to have with Harry was long forgotten, and in her current mood, he didn't dare remind her of it. She ordered food from the house elves, not eating in the great hall, and was rarely seen these days. Dumbledore had tried to hold a conversation with her, to set things back into motion.
But all that did, was get him a blank expression. He tried to ask if there was some way he could get Snape to apologies. But from the first mention of Snape, she flinched, and her eyes watered.
"Come now dear. You can't hate him truly, surely." But she sniffled, and walked away from him. Her head hung forward, and her pace quick in taking her to the safety of her rooms.
It was now Friday, and her mood was starting to get to the rest of the staff now more than ever. She was so happy, smiling, and down right cheerful. But now…now she was far worse. She had even taken house points from Gryffindors for asking about her.
Friday meant she had the 7th years both 4th and 5th. Gryffindor and Slytherin 4th, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw 5th.
But now was morning, and she dragged herself out of her bed. Her expression never changed as she washed and dressed, to when she saw a note appear on her desk.
Dear Procella.
You did say I could call you that, last we last spoke of it.
I have the unfortunate duty to give the house elves other duties as you are unable to assist Professor McGonagall with her preparations. And so, you shall be required to take breakfast in the hall, on the teacher's table. I hope this change in recent routine does not inconvenience you too much.
I look forward to seeing you next.
From
You good friend Albus Dumbledore.
I bet he did this on purpose. She scowled, and pulled her cloak from her made bed.
Today, she wore a very different attire. To match her new attitude.
High heel black knee boots, material with buckle fastens, black skin tight none shining lycra trousers, tucked down into her boots. Over that, her usual gypsy white shirt, long sleeves with drawn cuffs, but a dark red leather waist corset made her look daring. It pushed her ample breasts up and exposed more cleavage through the open V neck of the shirt.
A simple rouge red lipstick and mascara aided to her new image, and she dried her hair to look wild and curly. Still covering her right eye, giving her look a mysterious look about her.
Procella left her satchel, as she didn't have lessons until 4th period, and left her rooms. She walked to the great hall like a woman on a mission. The sooner she got this over with, the better. She was so tempted to just skip breakfast, but knew Dumbledore would have intended the house elves not to bring her dinner or anything else either. So she might as well get this over with.
It wasn't the students drooling gazes that bothered her, or the shocked ones of the teachers (other than Tonks who gave her a thumbs up) that unnerved her into keeping a straight face. It was the dark haired man sat in the chair that would be next to her. And he was looking right at her.
Severus Snape almost dropped his goblet. Procella looked like a wicked enchantress, her golden hair like a tempest, her hour glass figure shown off perfectly, her hips swaying as she confidently sashayed up the hall, her emerald eyes burning with a fire, and her lips showing the colour of that fire. Or the colour of his own blood, if he got to close to her. He had to use all his will to force his dark eyes to look down, and not stare at her like he really wanted to. He looked up again, with the sound of the chair next to him screeching from under the table, and then shuffling back under again. But with a pissed off Wandless magics Professor sat on it.
All the teachers gave Snape a look, which he understood well. He had barely a day to recuperate before he was bombarded with individual, and multiple teachers out right demanding he apologise to her, or at least make amends. He refused of course, and it was Dumbledore in the end that had to order him to be civil. He tried to explain he had been the civil one in the first place, but they didn't listen. For once, he saw Albus was very stern about him 'making things right', and had to submit. But the question was, how to go about it.
"And I never want to see you, or talk to you again." And she said she hates my kind. And me. He scowled down into his goblet of water, and clenched it tight in one fist. What she has said had infuriated him, and yet, cut him deeper than the healed wounds on his chest. they hadn't scared thanks to powerful magic, but he felt they wouldn't the finishing blows to the fight. The more painful of her assaults, physical was when she slapped him. Mental, were those three words. "I hate you." He loathed those words, even more since they kept repeating in his head over and over again. Her face, her tears, her scowl, her claws slicing his chest, her hand across his cheek, her words. He should be furious with her.
And yet, she wasn't the one he hated. The one he hated, was himself. Logically, he should be thinking along the lines of how dare she! I should hex that little half witch to eternity, make her suffer! But what he was actually thinking was more like her eyes…they looked so cold. Almost, like mine. And her recent behaviour had supported the last of the thoughts. Like him.
Slowly but surely, he was seeing his own behaviour in her methods. Deducting points from all students, speaking to no one (not as literally but she couldn't help that), refusing and showing distaste for company, and retreating from all eyes after lessons. Even now, from the way she ate in silence, her face in an indifferent bored expression, staring solely at her food as she ate it, making neat yet quick work of it.
"Good morning." She froze, but then continued like nothing had happened. Ok, another tactic. "Did you sleep well?" he tried to sound concerned he really did.
And he pulled it off way to comfortably than he would like to admit. As he waited, she drank from her goblet, and dabbed the corners of her red lips with a serviette. No response. Yet he didn't growl like he thought he would at her ignoring him.
Then, she rose from her seat, and he stood with her. "Have you a lesson now?" He held her arm to stop her leaving, and she span her head at him. The fury in her eyes, made his natural defence system kick up. He stood tall, one eyebrow raised and looked down at her. "It is rude to walk away to those who are simply showing an interest. Considering our last interaction, I would think I am being quite civil, don't you?" she pulled her arm back, and mouthed two words at him. The last one was yours, and the first a direction. She then gave him a look of utter disgust, and started to walk away. Snape looked back to Dumbledore, who shooed with his hands, urging him to follow her.
Snape took a deep breath, and followed her. "Consensio." He called, but she ignored him. "Consensio." He said a little sterner. He followed right behind her all the way to the entrance hall, before he resorted to grabbing her once more. "Consensio I am trying to talk to you. I know you might find reciprocating hard with no parchment, but I think you can have the decency to listen." He said icily, and she turned to face him. Her emerald eye froze him internally to the spot, her hand grabbed over his on her arm, and roughly tore it off her. He took a deep breath, as he now at least had her attention. "I made the enquiry as to if you were teaching now. Are you?" she shuck her head, but focused on him hatefully all the time. Her red lips pursed together, her hands now on the hips of her leather red waist corset in fists. "Well, then I would suggest we use this time to resolve our differences." She smirked evilly, and raised a hand. Upon seeing her middle finger up in the air before him, he snarled. "I am being sickly civil! And Merlin permit me, I am trying to have a conversation with you!" He lost his indifference, or his schooled coolness, his temper showing clearing. As was hers.
His face lost some of its intensity, when he felt a tingle at his mind's walls. "Now you wish to make a link?" he brushed off his arms casually, and folded his arms. "I should think it is about time." Procella then stepped up to him, their faces glaring and inches apart.
Bam.
Snape felt the connection made, and he made one to her. This was a lot different than a one way link, which meant it could be cancelled when ever the one with Occlumency wanted. But they were both skilled with Occlumency, so the same didn't apply. This time, both would have to want to terminate the link to sever it.
Consensio? He tested the water. Her face didn't change, but she raised a hand from her hip. She poked his chest hard, and scowled furiously.
Alright Snape. Listen well because I am only going to say this once. He was taken aback. This was the first time he heard her voice, other than when she was screaming as a banshee. This is what her voice would have sounded like, if she were human. It was razor sharp, shaking with fury and made him take a step back. albeit small.
Procella shuck with as much anger as her mental voice, and seethed. You are unbelievable!
I am! He returned. I am not the one ignoring everyone, sulking like one of my adolescent pupils in my room, and attacking anyone who will not give in to your mood swings.
Smack.
You thought he would have learnt the first time. But it took another slap across the face to shut him up.
Now when did I say you could talk? He was livid, his eyes narrowed murderously at her, and his curtains of black hair hung forward with rage. He looked very worthy of the mark on his left forearm like that. But for once, Procella wasn't fazed. You have done quite enough, don't you think? At that, he seemed to flinch. But you couldn't notice. Now it is time for you to listen, like you have bugged for since I first got here. She shuck her head with cruel mirth. Oh I have thought of so many things to say to you, over the last week. I hope I remember to say them all. But there was nothing sweet or innocent about her tone of 'voice'. Here is the Merlin be damned list I have you for! Severus Fucking Snape! She started to walk forward, until their chests brushed together aggressively. I came here to teach, to get away from what I had left behind. I don't talk about it for a reason! You idiot! She screamed in his mind. You are the potions master. I agree with that. You are a death eater.
I am n-
I agree with that fully. She spat before he could finish. I have seen why Voldemort loves you so much. Willing to do anything to get what you want. Even force yourself upon me mentally. Raping me. She seethed, and pushed him back hard. He didn't fall, and his glowering gaze on her never wavered. Did you ever think of it like that Snape? Did you ever think forcing yourself into my mind was rape? Taking from me something I am not willing to give, something personal and private to me FOR A REASON, is rape! You tried to rape me! Snape bit his tongue, as he saw tears well in her eyes. There was a sudden uncomfortable lump in his throat. You tried to rape, after bullying me because I couldn't talk to you.
"But you managed to talk like old pals to Lupin! Didn't you!"
That was because he didn't make me nervous! Or scare me shitless!
"Oh, so I scare you as well as make you nervous now! perhaps, you should write me a fucking list!" it was a good thing everyone was in the hall, unable to hear the debate that only Snape had resorted to shouting at in his rage.
I am getting there. She promised darkly. Let's look at the 'fucking list' so far. You bully me and man handle me, you try to rape me, you don't take the first subconscious warning to back off, and try again! Then, when the shit hits the pan, you get your front sliced open, me trying to kill you, and how many times have I slapped you now? Twice at least? Procella stomped her foot, tears jerkily falling down her face. Snape clenched his fists at his side, controlling himself at all times. Get the message you insensitive arsehole! I don't like you! You scare me and have pressured me into accompanying you to a Fucking 'Death Eater dine out for the family', as your bloody WIFE, without asking me first, because I couldn't tell you no! and you never even asked me, or told me why!
I may have thought you best for the job! He stepped forward, restraining his hands to his sides.
Of course you did. Because I can't talk or screw things up for you! But I did, didn't I Snape? She folded her arms and looked to the side, scowling still. Because I was recognised by you 'old school buddy'. Is he still you buddy? Or is he dead in an ally way! She accused him openly, looking at him furiously once more. Did you drag him off to kill him?
How dare you!
Easily! She threw her hands down by her sides in fists, and leaned up as tall as she could. You are a Death Eater! Don't you kill people for some sort of kick? An age old tradition blood sport! She stopped as she saw him raise his hand. Go on. She stepped forward, and even turned her face for him. Go on, hit me. Right over my face. You'll like that, wont you? That is all you understand, violence and blood shed. You and your kind.
Why do you keep saying that! He grabbed her shoulders, and forced her to look at him, both glaring. Who is, 'my kind'?
Death Eaters.
I am not a Death Eater.
Then why were you in a Death Eater pub mm? And why the mark?
I told you Consensio. I was a Death Eater, and now work for the Order of the Phoenix. You know this! Dumbledore told you all this!
I wish he told me you were still up to your old ways, with your old friends. Then I might have steered clear of you!
I am up to NOTHING! He roared at her, grasping her harder. I was on a reconnaissance mission for Dumbledore and the order! I'm a spy!
Oh, that I believe. But not for Dumbledore. She struggled to get free, in vain.
If I were working for the death eaters, then surely I would have handed you over to Avery upon recognising you. Yes?
No. Because if I went missing, you would lose you cover in Hogwarts.
No! you are not seeing the point!
And neither are you! She screamed at him. I don't care what the point is! I want nothing to do with you! None of you!
I am NOT a death eater! What are you afraid of me doing! She looked away, whimpering now. Oh no you don't. Not now. Look at me Consensio. What are you afraid of happening?
Leave me alone! Why can't you just leave me alone! You always find me, try to take me back, leave me alone!
"Consensio…" she had broken down into tears, thrashing her head from side to side in sorrow.
Won't leave me alone…never will…oh Merlin why won't you leave me alone. Then it clicked.
Consensio. Are…are you wanted by the Death Eaters? With that she snapped her head up in fear. Avery said he knew you, that the Dark Lord would be pleased to have you back, that I found you. Why would he want you? Why didn't he ask these questions sooner?
No, no just no. she tried to struggle, not to much angry as distressed now.
"Consensio! Why does he want you!" He barked as an order, shaking her to look at him. "If they are after you, you must tell me. Otherwise I can't protect you."
Why would you want to protect me from him? He is your master…
"No, he is not." He resorted to talking again, and stopped shaking her when she stopped thrashing in his grasp. "I am my own master now. I am not a Death Eater. If I were, why would I have even tried to resuscitate you?" she gulped. No, she hadn't forgotten that. "If you are in danger, you must tell me so I can shield you from his eyes."
No.
"Yes, you must tell me." He thought back to the meeting he had, the last words he heard Avery say before he was hit with the Imperious curse.
"Wait…pregnant?" Avery raised a brow, and frowned. "Merlin, that's not good. You were meant to have his…"
"Consensio…" he was starting to draw together a picture, one, he didn't like at all.
The dark mark on the small of her back, her need to be away from the Death Eaters, she wasn't one but held the mark, Avery's last words…
Procella knew he knew now, or at least, most of it.
The part, she didn't want anyone to know. "Where you the Dark lord's…"
Whore? I thought so. But he never touched me. She whimpered, and now he let her go. She sniffled, and held herself for support. Snape stood there, and hoped he was wrong.
How did you get the Dark mark Consensio?
How do you think? She sobbed slightly. He put it there.
Himself!
Yes. Personally. He didn't put it on my arm, as I was never a death eater, and I was never meant to be.
When Avery said 'you were meant to have his'. Did that mean…
Yes. She whimpered and smacked the side of fist against the wall by her side. Yes it does. He chose me to be his wife. Those words seemed to jab at his chest like cold needles. He wanted me to bare him a child. I was just 16 myself, and he knew that I couldn't talk. And he knew I never would. So he was…'safe' around me. She sobbed into her hands, and Snape stepped up behind her. He found me crying in a country town, having my hair pulled by the Muggle children for being different. He 'came to my rescue' and so I gave him a hug.
Snape placed a hand on her shoulder, and had to guide her into her corridor. He didn't want the students to come out here after breakfast, to see their professor distraught. I told him he saved me as they had talked of…doing something despicable to me. All on paper of course. He then told me he was a wizard, and took me with him. his men were all dressed in black hoods, as standard… she leaned against her door. Come in. I don't want to talk about it anymore…see for yourself…
Snape stood fixed to the spot. She wanted to show her memory of Voldemort? Well, all those questions he had been answering would be answered…but did he really want to know? Know that he had a taster of what he had been pressing so hard to see.
Procella pushed the door open, her hair hung forward to hide her eyes. She never imagined this would be happening when she got up this morning. Somehow, she found the strength to walk into her rooms and lay down slowly on the bed. She knew Snape had followed her, when the bed shifted with his weight. It felt like he was right behind her. And he was, she felt, when his hand rested on her shoulder. Are you ready to see…what you wanted with such an ardour that you were relentless in your perusing of it? In actual truth, he wasn't. But he felt he didn't have a choice, as she would most likely never give this invitation to him ever again.
"Yes." She rolled onto her back, and looked directly up at the roof of the bed. Snape then leaned over her, like prince charming to sleeping beauty.
If only.
Alright. I'm ready… he leaned closer. She grabbed his shoulders, catching him off guard. But promise me, what ever you see, what ever you learn…never tell anyone. Not Dumbledore, no one. Not Nymphadora, not Lupin, not Minerva or the rest of the order. This is not something to report. Understand? He paused, and then leaned down on her even more.
I understand. He rested on his elbows by her head, and looked down into her face. He brushed the hair off her right eye, and then brushed away some pre-stressful tears. As both know, Procella would be forced to re live the memory as well, since this was an exact extraction. Before it was a fast glimpse of a short, but certain memory. What she was going to show him, were a chain of strongly linked, dark memories that had been locked up so long, to fester and gather strength in the back of her mind. And so, something as strong would be needed to connect them. Like before, the powerful link had been the sorrow and emotion from the fight that span his mind into her haunting witnessing of her murdered father and sister.
By her voice.
So another strong emotion would be needed this time. And Snape knew just the one he wanted to use. But it wasn't the one Procella expected.
He brushed his lips over her forehead, making her flinch away from him. But he wasn't deterred. He did it again, and traced his lips down the side of her face slowly. He trailed soft, tender kisses over her cheek, and hovered his mouth over hers. Yes, I understand. And I am ready. He sealed his lips to hers, and opened them both. His tongue seeped inside her mouth sensually, and he dove further. He now pinned her hands above her head, kissing her slowly, but crushingly passionately. As she closed her eyes, giving in to the wonderful feeling of Severus kissing her like she had never allowed before, she felt cold. The cold feeling travelled like wisps of icy mist down into her chest, and spread through her body.
Then everything went dark, and panic ensued her mind once more. This was it, it was happening again. She would soon relive some of the most darkest parts of her life, the parts she had locked away for a reason.
For her own sanity.
But now, Severus Snape was going to witness the most shameful time in her life. And she had let him.
Oh Severus…please forgive me…
