Hi,
Sorry for the late upload, things are going on in RL, and I'm trying to hold on to any and all schedules I used to have... anyway, I'm trying not to slow down, sorry.
HP belongs to Rowling of course.
Oh, I almost forgot! Rated M for reason! ...and... so this is my attempt at romance and lemons, please share your thoughts!
And now without further distractions, pls try to enjoy!
Chapter 33. Damn Morals
Trying to expel all possible thoughts from his mind about any kinds of Prophecies, France, or Mira Rasical, Severus still had two bothersome questions unanswered on the short route to the manor from their Apparation point.
One was his puzzlement about finding, and even more so, holding in his hands a seershmuck and getting away to tell the tale. These objects were relatively rife after the Minoan era, and later again, in the early Middle Ages. He only knew about them from texts created later, when wizards of the Renaissance all but hunted these artifacts with suicidal obsession. The craze was about their potential to foretell the future, of course. Legends had it that these were artifacts containing an ancient seer's "essence." It was known from mythology that those seers – at least some of them – were directly linked to the wisdom of the gods, so such reliquaries were invaluable.
The problem was, of course, their protection. Not counting the additional curses each generation added to defend such a capsule of ancient wisdom, all of which had to be broken separately to reach the seer, the adventurer's mind was normally ill-equipped to withstand the encounter. And he lived, after hearing a prophecy, and his only struggle was to conceal it all. Puzzling.
The other unexpected turn was facing no other but Sage's cousin, whose – essence? Soul? Awareness? Ghost? He didn't even know, but some part of her was enclosed into that pendant by her own admission with the seer, and she said this was Sage's handiwork. So, while preparing to eliminate whatever Horcrux he could find, it was bothersome at least to meet something so obviously dark like this particular magic, even for his less-scrupulous approach.
However, this was definitely not a thought for the Dark Lord's presence, so Severus just sealed up his mind and focused on Malfoy's plan to either buy his lord's benevolence, or simply purchase the Ministry itself, with the basement, the sculptures, and whatever Prophecies it contained. The second plan seemed so outrageously insane he imagined it would work. He had no such hopes for sale or free about the Dark Lord's benevolence, especially if Mira's words were true and the pendant proved fatal. Severus doubted the Dark Lord would be the one to suffer such a curse, and he wouldn't bet on Lucius's well-being even if the greedy moron survived.
With these jolly thoughts – more precisely without them – he marched into the manor house, where the Dark Lord seemed already displeased. This only heightened the chances for a particularly bad evening. Friendship or not, Severus stood as far from Malfoy as the room and protocol would let him.
He didn't regret his caution when Voldemort lashed out in a frenzy, asking Avery and Malfoy about their dealings with the Ministry. However, Lucius did try his best to avert attention. He offered his nuanced plans about circumventing the problem, only to make the Dark Lord lose patience, and by the time he got on his knees offering the rarity, the unnaturally pale arm stroke down with force, knocking the box holding the precious pendant sideways in the room!
"Useless! All useless! Could I be clearer, servant? I want results, not excuses!"
Lucius bowed on his bended knee, and Avery genuflected with a rare show of wisdom, this time estimating the situation in the right way. Unfortunately, it seemed it was too late. Bellatrix and Dolohov couldn't help their noises of enjoyment as the Dark Lord stepped closer.
"Lift your faces!" – he ordered the two menacingly, and Severus remembered all their careful plotting and greed. He didn't expect anything would save them.
Avery was the first to collapse with a scream; after searching through his mind, the red eyes left him with discontent.
"How hard can it be to enter that Department? You already were close to the Prophecies! Lucius!"
Proving the power of that lucky star under Malfoy once saw first this world, Rookwood hesitantly stepped forward.
"My lord, is it the Department of Mysteries you are seeking to enter? I've been working there for years before –" – his voice trailed off, remembering Azkaban, but the red gaze shifted on his face already. "I might be of service, my lord. I know about most of the secrets of that Department."
"Do you indeed?" – Voldemort left Lucius kneeling at the side of the room and called Rookwood closer. "Look at me then, my servant, and open up your mind for your lord!"
Rookwood obediently stepped closer and went to his knees. He looked up at the Dark Lord with agitation but with more trust than Severus had seen in these last few months. Indeed, Rookwood's behaviour recalled the old times, when all believed in the Dark Lord's glory and not yet in plotting and averting attention.
With hesitant words, proved through repeated Legilimency, Rookwood explained that the Prophecies could only be gathered by those they referred to. He could also add details about the defences around the Department of Mysteries, some of those Lucius had already uncovered, some others he had even broken. Voldemort slowly regained something resembling control over his outburst of impatience. More, by the time Rookwood finished his report, the Dark Lord seemed well-pleased.
"Rise, my servant!" – he ordered this time with rare friendliness in his voice. "You will receive your prize for this intelligence. Avery, on the other hand" – he slowly turned on the groaning wizard, and even Lucius seemed to try to look as small as he could.
The Cruciatus was vicious this time. Severus had never been happier not to stand on the wrong end of the Dark Lord's wand. And Voldemort kept laughing, even when his revenge turned shortly on Lucius and when he finally let his servants retreat. For the first time, it occurred to Severus to wonder if their leader had lost his mind. The thought wasn't only frightening for the prospect of a deluded lunatic deciding upon his fate, and maybe the fate of their world. He was also terrified by letting such a thought appear in his mind! Merlin help him never to betray it!
Thankfully he was out of the manor before he could dig his grave with his errant thoughts. Within the hour, Severus stood before Dumbledore's desk in the circular office at Hogwarts.
"He knows."
"Are you completely sure about this?" – the Headmaster repeated the question for the third time, his worries this time plain to see in his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles.
"I listened through Rookwood's report, sir, we all did. He knows where the Prophecy is since before Christmas, now he knows how to get to it. He didn't explain why he didn't go for it tonight. And there is more, sir." He only went on after Dumbledore raised his questioning eyes to meet his. "Lucius is determined to regain some of his standing. I presume he would try to convince the Dark Lord to let him rise again by proving himself. Earlier his plan was to attack Arthur Weasley. I think Arthur should know about this plan."
"Is that all he is planning?"
Severus fleetingly recalled the seershmuck and decided Sage didn't need him to get her into trouble. He swiped the memory away. "At the moment, sir. Of course if –"
"Headmaster, that ugly little inconvenience is heading this way" – a ruddy-faced old wizard's portrait suddenly warned – "She is smug, and she's not alone!"
"Thank you, Florian!" Dumbledore glanced at Severus and thought quickly. "You have to caution him yourself. This may take a while. Arthur is on duty tonight, but he'll show up at Headquarters before leaving for home. So you may find him there. We've been discussing your House's issues if anyone asks."
"Yes, sir," – Severus turned to quickly leave the room and hurried down the stairs to disappear in a narrow passageway before the Pink could see him.
He felt lucky he could get away unnoticed. The last thing he needed was an additional conversation about his Snakes with the Toad. Without even returning to his quarters, he proceeded down to the gates and Apparated to Grimmauld.
The house was in rare silence; even the hag's portrait kept her calm. Severus shed his Death Eater cloak in the dark and dusty foyer so as not to invite more attention than was strictly necessary and tried to look first for someone in the kitchen.
His steps hadn't taken him down all the way to the kitchen when Lupin's face appeared in the passageway, turned upright.
"Ah, you!" – he said by means of a greeting and stepped aside to let Severus in. "Have something happened?" – he asked with agitation. "Harry?"
All the occupants of the House at present seemed to have gathered in the kitchen, Sirius sat by the table with Tonks, and someone was making tea.
"The boy's all right." Severus scanned the room while he spoke. "Yet,"- he added when he saw the dog. "I came to wait upon Weasley, when will he –" – he cut his words when the witch turned by the stove. "What the…"
"Severus!" – Sage gasped, but her surprise and fright couldn't be worse than his was. Angry red rashes covered her arms, hands and face. "It's all right –" – she began obviously trying to continue her lies about that curse that got her, but Severus couldn't have it. He moved towards her without a thought.
"Don't you tell me, witch, it was an errant spell again!" – he exclaimed and thoughtlessly reached for her when Black yelled from behind him:
"Leave her alone! What do you mean again, anyway? As if you–"
The itch to reach for his wand felt so urgent Severus had a hard time containing himself.
"Keep your nose out of this, mutt; it's not for your amusement," – he grumbled. "Have you already run out of the ointment? Or is your precious grandmother otherwise occupied?" – he hissed cruelly to the witch, not even noticing her forbidding stare.
"What are you're talking about? She hasn't a soul to care for her but those dark witches she's trying to avoid," – Sirius stood up by the table. "Not that it's any of your business, Snivellus."
"Of course, Sirius, it's all right. Severus was only referring to a conversation we had a long time ago, were you not?" Sage's warning stare and words finally got through his sudden rage, and Severus grudgingly returned to his senses.
The Locumtotum spell might have helped the witch hide her injuries, but it would have obviously required her to reveal them to Héloïse. He could understand her reluctance knowing how much her grandmother was fond of questions. But to accept her being repeatedly injured was way beyond him. He resigned to wait with an angry stare towards Black, but he wouldn't let this one go.
Sage finished the tea and served everyone but Severus; he only received a meaningful glance, telling more than her words could ever carry. He saw his tea ready on the counter but wasn't in a mood to conquer his pride and collect it. Of course, the mutt had to cheer that!
The waiting was obnoxious, even with his back safely leaning on the stones of the hearth. At least Miss Tonks was considerate enough to let him know about Arthur's imminent return. The others were chatting senseless, with sometimes one or another sparing him a glance. Severus was grinding his teeth and thought of that dark magic he witnessed at the Malfoy's.
He couldn't be that wrong about Beauxbaton, could he? She enclosed some part of her cousin into an object! She seemed to side now with Black, and she defied Dumbledore by her own admission – she had way too shattering an effect on him to be proved malevolent now!
Severus focused on the tiles to hide the fright that he knew to have appeared in his eyes. Was he wrong to trust her? Lucius wanted to move her from Hogwarts; she seemed ready to cross the Pink only days before! She took him to Héloïse, she brought him the anti-venom, she devastatingly attracted him, she seemed to believe in him, volunteered to be his friend, why would anyone be so nice to him? No one ever behaved like this, not even in a similar manner without reason! Her childhood obsession with wandless magic and some so-called gratitude seemed nothing at the moment.
His cunning mind came up with possible plots and lists of her imaginable sins. She did divert his attention. She did encourage him to question Dumbledore. She was indeed capable of hatred and darkness, she knew way too much about black magic, and now she seemed ready to leave with Lucius, was lying about her wounds, she was siding with Black… Damn Lucius! And why Black? Of all people! It didn't match with the rest of the picture! What could she see in him? Although, if she was a dark witch interested in ruining him, the mutt would be a possible ally….
By the time Arthur's steps sounded in the entrance, Severus worked himself into sickness. He felt terrified and devastated and hungry for revenge. It didn't occur to him to check his list for errors, only playing her potential sins on a continuous belt, never letting a redeeming thought enter his dark musings about seeing her mind for himself. For it was impossible that one could trust him, could like him, without a nasty reason.
Arthur Weasley slowly descended on the stairs, his tired greetings cut short when he saw Snape by the hearth. "Ah, good evening, Severus! Is something the matter?"
"Dumbledore sent me to tell you," – Severus glanced at the table and decided not to make easy for any one of them to understand him: "to tell you that He knows. Tonight he learned the last pieces for his puzzle, we all were ready to go, but he didn't give the order. You are also a target. If I were you, I would avoid Lucius."
Arthur paled and hid his suddenly trembling hands into his pocket.
"You all were ready – Tonight? – he slowly repeated, his eyes rounded in his surprise and horror. "Merlin's beard, and I almost fell asleep! …and Harry? Did he say something about Harry?"
Severus pushed himself from the hearth, already preparing to leave. "He is reluctant to learn, but he will," – he summed up his struggles, and an unwelcome thought entered his mind: "You need to teach a boy unwilling because he is in deadly danger." For the sake of all remaining good! How could that phantom tell that? Did she see it in his mind? What else could she have seen if she knew about four more Horcruxes? Why should he lose the freaking war? And how on earth could he tell Beauxbaton anything about what he felt if she…
"Severus, wait, we need to discuss this!" – Arthur said when he started for the doorway, "your news is –"
"I gave you the message; I have nothing to discuss," – Severus grumbled, but when he looked up, his stare somewhat lightened looking in Weasley's benevolent eyes. Was it possible that not all of them hated him? Sage watched him go with something that might have also been a question in her eyes. It wasn't enough to restore trust against his fears, but maybe a spark of hope.
"Come, witch, we're leaving," – the words just tumbled out between his lips without considering them at all.
Said witch looked taken aback, but she hesitantly stood.
"Sagie, you don't have to do anything for the git; you are among friends here, you know that," – Black was quick to stop her.
Sage's glance fluttered between the two wizards before she nodded. "I know that, Sirius. I'll be back next week on the schedule."
And she smiled. Severus felt his teeth clutching together, which was lucky in a way, saving himself the humiliation to repeat his demand with more urgency. He gave way for Sage to walk up the stairs before him as soon as she said her slushy goodbyes and tried to take her arm in the foyer, but she pulled away.
"Hogwarts, I guess?" – she asked shortly, then grabbed her cloak, and Apparated before him without waiting for a reply.
Severus gained upon her by the Hogwarts gates, and as soon as his form appeared, the witch showed such fury, he involuntarily stepped back.
"What the hell do you think of yourself?! Have you lost your mind?!" – The yelling exceeded his wildest imagination. "What a presumptuous jerk you can be! I would have never thought that of you! Telling them about grand-mère? Are you nuts? Whatever got into you, Severus?"
Her last question sounded on a more sobered tone, but it was already too late. With working around the clock in these past days, receiving little rest while walking into constant surprises, he couldn't tolerate her attack, even less when he knew she already lied.
"Such conceit!" – Severus hissed with distaste. "Have you thought your little plotting would never be revealed? Are you ready to leave and serve your petty interests? If it escaped your notice somehow, I do my job well enough. Good enough to rumble your little game with Lucius and the making of dark artifacts!"
"What?" – the surprise was fleeting before her face morphed into the picture of contempt. "You ran into one of my toys, and you think you're better than me? Is that the reason you're trying to boss me around?"
"Don't you lie to me, witch, I cannot stand that!" – Severus finally raised his voice to match hers. "Are you ready to leave? Is that why you are suddenly keeping secrets? To hide your plots and deeds, and you're closing your cousin's essence into a –"
"Have you seen her?" – Sage blanched, but the eagerness in her voice was undeniable. It gave Severus a short pause, but eventually, he was taken way too far to stop here.
"Is that all that matters to you, witch? Shall I even refer to you about your curse being sufficient enough?"
"It wasn't cursed!" – she readily protested. "Not initially, not by my doing! What happened to her? Could she talk to the seer?"
Severus refused to share the Prophecy, especially those parts that referred to his feelings, and especially now.
"You're so eager to hear out others! You might as well begin with telling the truth yourself! Who did this to you?"
Sage shook her head and stepped back, visibly swallowing.
"I'm not kidding around, witch, you're going to tell me. Who did this to you?" – Severus repeated, following her, fixing his gaze on her occluded eyes.
"I will not tell you," – she whispered, backing away further, Severus followed with menace.
"Have you already told Black?"
"What? Why would I tell him?" – her utter confusion was lost on him at the moment, as he used the opening she involuntary offered to cast a silent Legilimens, looking deep into her eyes.
There was no blooming maze to see now, only thorns and icy wind, which was blowing with such force, it projected him out of her mind.
"Stop!" – The witch shouted, "Do you think I wouldn't curse you?"
The memory of Leroy's pustules hit Severus like a well-aimed dagger. "Give it your best try! Legilimens!"
She did. By the time his spell could reach her, Sage's magic was roaming around them. It wasn't visible; still, it felt like a whirlwind, tearing into his robes, cloak and hair, before it pushed onto his chest with the force that sent Severus backwards on the ground, with a rhinoceros' weight pressing down his chest.
"I don't know what's gotten into you, Severus, but I will not tell you about my misfortunes for your own good. However, you will tell me about Mira because I have the right to know that!"
Her Legilimency hit him for the first time, and it was forceful if less practised than any of his masters. Severus wouldn't have had a problem deflecting it if he wasn't already struggling for air. The solution was not far to seek. He pushed the sensation of the heavy weight and choking into her mind with speed and force, not letting her pull back. He could feel Sage's mind squirming to find release, then he felt her fright and panic.
It became a match of nerves and lungs, the better to rule panic and the longer to go without air. Severus began to feel faint, but he also felt her devastation, and he gave no space for any thought to emerge. Thus, what he suddenly felt must have belonged to her…
The pain of the sort he was familiar with. Heartache. Feeling betrayed, confused, and disappointed in love. He felt the utter confusion and honest surprise his behaviour evoked, he felt a wish to – suddenly his mind received a sudden push, and he was alone in his own mind again, laying on his back on the cold ground, finally able to breathe. He looked over to see the witch collapsing next to him.
Coughing, he rolled onto his side and tried to reach her. She was still conscious, but barely, her lashes fluttering, showing her struggle, and her breath was ragged.
"Have you had enough?" – he grumbled, but without malice.
Beauxbaton shook her head and closed her eyes.
"Why are you doing this?" – her question was a silent whisper, more just moving of her lips than real words in the night.
Severus suddenly felt the cold and the darkness that enveloped them still outside the gates, and his sense of security turned into alarm.
"It's unsafe here, come," – he tried to collect and lift her - "Come, witch, we'd better move quickly inside."
She didn't protest when he helped her to stand up, and then supported her in their climb uphill. Severus used their route to the castle to find calm, and he hoped the witch did the same because he couldn't bear to see her lying on the cold ground; he still needed those answers. He was already past his feelings of wrath, but his trust was in tatters. It hurt and confused him as much as he felt it confused the witch.
Like he had two separate heads on his neck, one only wished to hug her and ensure he was still somehow at her good side, tell her he was frightened by what he heard from Lucius and didn't want her to leave. While the other was still grinding his teeth, it still listed her unexplained deeds and was outraged to find her with the mutt and the werewolf, helplessly in pain. So why was he doing this? Her question resonated in both lines of his thoughts, even in the oak door. Because it hurt.
Sage didn't complain when he led her down on the short flight of stairs to his study, and she sat obediently on the edge of his desk while he selected another batch of ointment of dittany from the shelves in his personal storage room. She even took off her cloak to assist when he called her closer, and Severus uttered a rarely used handy spell, a remnant of more modest times, that applied the processed essence on her skin all over, even under her robe.
When the dittany sealed her scars and wounds, emitting the usual jarring noise and smoke, she didn't even flinch, only thanked him on a measured tone, without a shadow of friendliness showing on her face.
"Now I need you to tell me about Mira," – she told him. "Tell me where you've seen her, and I won't bother you again."
The nerve of the witch! – something screamed inside him. So you won't bother me – with what? Holding hands? Mesmerize me for naught?
"Because that is what you truly wish for, isn't it?" – Severus sneered. "All to bow to your will. You don't ask, you demand as always, but dare one ask you about your deeds, and you conjure up a whirlwind, threaten with your curses and run away to play your games at –"
"How dare you!" Her voice was sharp, and it was easy to feel her magic throbbing impatiently just under her skin again. Severus had a fleeting thought about her letting it out in his storage room, which would destroy the work of months but had no time to contemplate this. The enraged witch cornered him by the shelves.
"My bloody games saved your arse in the first place, and ever since, I keep sacrificing all I have and am, so my father and dear omniscient Albus may have you risk your skin protecting a mere schoolboy! My, isn't that an achievement! While I distract Lucius, I hold Iris on a leash, I literally buy you the time, and you are questioning my intentions for infiltrating all houses and manors of my enemies with the booby-traps they deserve?"
"Your assistance has always been redundant," – Severus was glad to help her come down a peg. "I've got Lucius under control on my own since longer than I care to remember, and your pathetic cousin had never been more than a spare– erm…, should I say it?" – When she winced, he allowed himself a scornful smile. "Whether you wish to fill all pureblood households with your menacing little toys or any of them, I cannot care less. But don't you dare to demand answers where you withhold your trust."
"I do trust you, haven't I proved that? If I don't tell you –"
"That you are plotting with Lucius to leave? That you closed up your cousin's essence? What kind of magic did you use? Was it something Black could help you with? His mother's library should be endearing, especially if you think to add some darker books to your family collection! How many hours did you spend there together? Did you enjoy taking him up on every offer he had to make?"
Sage stared at him longer than Severus could like it, and his resentment grew by every second of his discomfort under her searching, narrowed eyes. "Are you jealous, Severus?" – she eventually asked with disbelief and shock.
He only could gasp for seconds. "You will not change the subject by being nonsensical!"
"Nonsensical?!" – the witch almost screamed, and she would undoubtedly have added more if Severus still had the patience to hear her excuses. He lost that long ago.
"If you want to be trusted, then tell the truth!"- he demanded.
"Of what? About where you've seen Mira?"
"Oh, you may add what magic you've used, right after you told me, who was the one to hurt you! And why?"
Sage stepped back to the storage room's doorjamb that stopped her. "That, you will never hear." Severus could clearly see the challenge in her eyes for her misfortune, even through the anxiousness and disbelief she seemed to struggle with. All that would be explained if he sank into her mind!
"Damn it! Legilimens," – he cast the spell this time aloud, with focus and intent. He was through with their meaningless talks. Her first row of defence, the thorns and the cold wind didn't surprise him this time, soon came her mirroring the feelings his prying caused in her mind. It was a new trick; he had never tried that, most likely for the best. Neither of his masters would tolerate such a thing.
Her returning the attack almost took Severus by surprise. By the time he felt her curiosity intruding on his thoughts, it had peeped over his defences. Severus threw her out over that same imaginary fence. He needed just one thought to grab onto to catch her and thus have his way to what he wanted to know. For a second, he felt true amazement over his utmost need to know what had happened, some fragments of a question, why would he care at all, but it was too dangerous to answer, their minds connected intimately… Still, what caused such a feeling? – Sage caught him with the thought.
He saw himself for a second the way she saw him, and it took all his ability to even recognize the man. A wizard at his prime, powerful, secretive, dangerously attractive in a way that – a picture of their first encounter came flying into his face: The moment he questioned her sanity. Then his distrust. The next memory showed him grumbling in Hogwarts' library, then eyeing her with suspicions and distrust at Grimmauld. Multiple times of his mumbled greetings and grimaces on various doorsteps – his ferocious anger when he blew up his cauldron – hasty words to hurt her in the attic on their first night – "We shouldn't be friends" – his mumbled words echoed long in both of their thoughts.
It was only too obvious that she tried to crack him. Hell, the witch was really worth her salt! – for the involuntary thought he paid by hearing her laughter, which was indeed hurtful, unfortunately. However, Severus didn't give up so easily. Instead, he reached after the source of her previous amazement.
Panic rushed through Severus, and it was none of his emotions. He grabbed after it and saw himself in the attic again, but this time from a small girl's perspective. He remembered Mira greeted him as the dark knight - what had these immature little witches plotted in their youth?
Sage was now trying to flee from him. She packed away memories, emotion, whatever she tried to hide – he could feel her haste. Severus knew he was on the right track. He saw a small room in a house he never knew, somewhere close to mountains… Mira watched the clouds dreamily… another young girl, Sage, who seemed in her early twenties, tried her best to explain – what? Was it a dream? They quarrelled. Mira wanted her to believe something she was too afraid to –
Sudden anger pushed the memories of last Christmas into the forefront of Sage's mind. They obscured the dream: Severus being irrational, fighting with Black. Severus standing alone, awkwardly in the middle of a crowd. He still tried to push for the memory he lost just a minute ago –another one about Black whispering jokes about him standing in all awkwardness by the hearth.
It called up all the times he felt humiliated. His worst emotions were when he felt inadequate and embarrassed in his youth. He knew Sage saw glimpses of Potter tripping him on the Hogwarts Express, of Sirius laughing after various "pranks" and jibes… about him returning to the common room cursed with antlers, and Bellatrix laughing at the silly first year he used to be. Other memories threatened to break through, his father's disparaging words, students' mocking, hanging mid-air by the Black Lake, Lily turning her face away… – he did his best to hush them.
Instead, he provoked more visions which belonged to the House he saw. A recent image, an older witch, standing tall on something like a balustrade. Quickly, Sage threw at him her recollection of him enviously watching others having their teas that night at Grimmauld. Black's smugness was almost unbearable from this point of view. It provoked again all his thoughts resulting this madness, with his insecurities rearing their ugly heads.…
"Got you!" – Sage cried out, and she kicked into his shin, making him drop the eye contact. "You're insecure and jealous! Why would you be either of those? You can have no reason!"
Unfortunately, her machinations indeed affected him, and the effect was blind rage and hurt. "Hasn't it been obvious to your prying little mind? Do you think that mutt would treat you better? I tell you, witch, where I came from, there's a name to call a mate of a dog!"
SNAP
It wasn't magic. Her open palm collided with his face, leaving a tingling scratchy feeling and warmth in the wake of the slap.
It took the time of four ragged breaths before he came to his senses. Time, while he could only stare at the witch, who pulled back her hand to hide her face and shame. She shook her head, and her eyes seemed suspiciously watery as she turned to flee the room. That was the moment he finally realized what he told her, and Severus hurried to catch her with memories of another witch denying forgiveness on his mind.
He caught up with her just before she reached the door. "Wait, I didn't mean that!"
"The hell, you didn't!" – Sage tried to sidestep him, but it was impossible to let her go, not again, not this time…– his panic must have shown on his face while he incoherently mumbled an apology trying all the way through it to divide the past and the present.
"I– I'm not good with–… I'm sorry! I– it was bad, I didn't mean it… Sage, I beg if you want, …I – I would never call you a m… that. It just… It was an accident. I don't even use the word, for Merlin's sake and all good! …Sage, I… you have to understand. I'm sorry…."
He didn't even see her hiding her face again behind the palm that hit him. Only when she finally touched his arm, he stopped and dared to look at her.
"I should never have hit you, I'm so sorry," – Beauxbaton watched her through her tears and looked ashamed. He wanted to scream, why? – she made no sense at all. She should have been enraged, hurt and–
Severus hesitated. "A-are you not sending me away?"
"I want to believe you, you big donkey, but you hurt me! Can you forgive me for what I have done?"
"You? F-forgive you?" – Severus stared at her and only tried to recall what might have enraged him in the first place. She was beautiful with her eyes enlarged by her tears, heavy lashes, darkened by her sadness, her cheeks were still pink with passion – of fury, he guessed, but still.
This was nothing like his mistakes should have played out, not the way the world operated. Her apology was so unexpected he completely lost coherence.
"I should never have slapped you. You wanted to help me," – Sage was still busy explaining something, Severus hardly knew anymore what. "I don't like your method, but I saw nothing that would contradict that in your mind. And you met Mira at Lucius' place. I just could not ascertain what she told you. It could not be your fault if he was so greedy to have her pendant sent over. I don't know what he told you; he wants me to assist his greed for a long time. You see, I've never cursed Mira or the pendant; I filled that gem with my memories about her. I hoped to contact the seer without taking the risk, but they stole it!"
"It worked," – Severus grudgingly admitted. "She did contact the seer. She asked me to tell you she was sorry, and we have four more Horcruxes to find."
"Worked…? Oh, my, I'm not angry with her… but four? Did she say anything else?"
She was so eager and confused, he didn't dare to show how much he omitted, and he was way too perplexed to sort out what to share and what to keep.
"That now she was to put a deadly curse on the pendant," – he stuck to what might be important for her one day.
All those words about him sharing his feelings seemed now only some strange plot of the little girls these witches once had surely been, and the rest was even more private. He shuddered to think how much Sage's view about him must have changed since she grew up. No doubt for the worse, but then what made her apologize for nothing? Why did she care about him so obviously much? Was it only her nature?
It seemed her train of thoughts was similar, just took the witch into a different direction: "What could make you so jealous if you love another? You don't even care–"
Severus closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. The witch almost cracked his mind and still couldn't see it, it was unbelievable!
"I do care, Beauxbaton," – he silently admitted, feeling cornered and still trying to make up for his severe slip of the tongue. "If anything, I only care too much."
The way she stared at him was unnerving. Then Sage leaned closer and kissed the warm spot where her palm collided with his face. Severus could hear her laboured, slow breathing; her arms first searched for support on his shoulders, then on the nape of his neck. Her thin fingers began to play with the soft hair closest to his scalp, and her lips kept kissing the cheek she abused.
"I care the same," – she whispered between soft kisses, nuzzling close to him until her soft presence filled even the air he took.
"Witch," – Severus tried to warn her. She raised his heartbeat to frenzy, and his brain already began fogging over. Her touch made his hair feel like silk, every little pull, all caresses and huffs of breaths made his skin tingle, making him wish for more. Much more. She should have been aware of what she was doing! If restraint relied solely on his force of will, they were heading to doom.
It became a desperate war for a sober thought within seconds, and Severus struggled to keep to his decision, not to act upon it, whatever he felt. He tried to recall any small reason to send her away, to regain control, or to– When the witch snuggled closer, he felt her breasts pushing onto his chest.
To hell with discipline!
He turned his face to meet her lips and grabbed onto her waist with both hands. Sage welcomed him with a hot gasp; her lips moved to comfort his, kissed him slowly, warmly, filling him with the echo of a distant summer. Her tongue caressed his with patience and the aftertaste of flowers. It must have been the perfume that already filled his nostrils. Her gentle touch never ceased stroking his neck, ears, hair – he would have lost his mind even from half of such attention. He didn't deserve this.
"So you– you forgave me…" – a last little corner of his sanity demanded to make it clear, be it as unbelievable as it came because if she refused him after a kiss like that, he knew not to what depth of madness he would sink.
"Don't do it again," – she whispered into his mouth and proceeded to lick his lower lip, nibbling it softly until he gasped for air. "Don't hurt me, Severus," – she caressed his upper lip now with her tongue, sending shivers down his spine. "Will you promise me?"
At the moment, he would have promised her the moon and all the stars of the clear night sky, just no one take this away! His fears slowly morphed to fuel desire. All the fragments she gave him of herself were assurances he didn't have to lose her.
"Not ever," – he breathed, "not again, not in a lifetime, I promise!" he moved with all his body, took purchase on her waist and devoured her mouth hungrily; her silent ministrations pushed him over the last limits of his restraint.
He only ever knew the shadow of the need that now arose, this was unknown in its force and depth, and suddenly nothing felt enough. He tugged her even closer, his palm held her by the small of her back, she moved together with him, still, it was deficient. Nothing short of melting into her could satisfy this yearning. To become a part of her, undividable, and to finally feel safe within. Safe inside her, safe in her care, in her forgiveness, in her attention…
He had no idea how he could question a woman like she was. He knew who she was, she was the one who cared, and now nothing else mattered but to have her. Her acceptance was much headier than any kiss she could ever pepper on his neck, even if those at the moment drove him into raving madness.
His arms moved behind her thoughtlessly, his palms finally felt the shape of her butt, her firmness and softness and all that curves – Severus groaned into the witch's shoulder in a near sob, while his palms mapped out the arch of her back, reached her rounded shoulders, and slid back on her backside, kneading it, stroking it, until he was undone. It was all like he imagined, only better.
Her hips were drawing slow circles on his loins, matching the rhythm his palms settled fondling her butts, Sage's long fingers working his robe open pushed him even further. She caressed his chest, kissed her way down from his ears to his nipples, taking her time by the hollow of his throat, his collarbones, then celebrating all the ribs and licking circles of pleasure onto skin that was barely ever touched. He only could hold her. And before his eyes rolled back, he grabbed her savagely, lifted her, and turned to push her onto some wall for balance.
It happened to be his bookcase, and various tomes slid down to give place for something more important. He only cared when one of them flew open and began to scream. Severus kicked the tome closed without looking up, only smiled in their kisses when Sage's chuckles tickled his tongue.
"What was it?" – She asked, squirming back on his shelf, pulling him by a wing of his robe into another embrace.
"Stupid Potente Potions, don't give it a damn" – Severus grumbled, and the witch softly chuckled again.
"You've got all my attention," – she whispered then, and she planted a kiss on his nose with cheek he adored.
Severus never thought about talking to a woman while kissing her, but actually, it felt only natural now that he tried. His sense of intimacy only grew, something he hardly knew and now treasured. Then she lifted her ankles to caress his calves, and excitement shocked through his body like electricity, chasing away all possible thoughts.
Her hands caressed his abdomen, her feet stroked his legs up to his thighs, and his brain became muddled like a drunken daze. He almost stumbled. His fingers were busy pulling her robe to the side, having no patience to fumble with buttons and clasps just to get a taste of her skin under. He kissed her bare shoulder, the base of her neck – the thyme-like aftertaste lingering from the essence of dittany only added to her skin's flowery scent. And there was something more, something warm and sweet that belonged only to her… he tried to have his fill of that savour in vain, nothing was suffice of that one.
His hands fidgeted with that voluminous blue skirt when her shoe dropped to the floor, and the next he felt was her feet hugging and stroking his butt. The witch crossed her ankles behind him and stirred him closer, he already could feel the heat between her thighs. A long-forgotten voice from his boyhood immaturely whooped in triumph when he finally believed he would now have her. Finally, finally, well into his thirties, he would have a woman he loved! Not a replacement, nothing artificial, but the real thing. First time in his life, he would make love…
"This is real," – he absently mumbled, kissing her again, while his hands, shaking with anticipation, still folded up that damned skirt. When Sage caressed his hair from his face, he was trembling from head to toe.
"Yes, it's real, Severus," – her voice was strangely weak and soft, and her glance carried devotion. He knew not how much his features betrayed of all the things he tried so hard not to profess. He had never been this close to saying those three words since he was alive. Instead, he kissed her. Patiently and deeply, and his hips involuntarily moved atop hers without a thought. There was nothing any more but the heat and their shared breaths.
Not even the sudden popping sound behind him – until Sage froze, swore in French something he couldn't even follow, and she hid her face into his shoulder. Severus almost asked what the matter could be before that familiar squeaking voice reached him through the daze:
"Master forgive, Chubby had no choice, sir!"
"Get lost!" – Severus grumbled, and Sage's laughing into his shoulder this time didn't help. "What is it?" – he only turned his head towards the house-elf. Chubby was standing on his heels, curling even his toes away from the scene he didn't want to witness, with his bulgy eyes hid behind his folded ears, looking more miserable than he ever remembered.
"Master forgive!" – he squeaked again - "Evil One standing living room door, demanding to let in, knocking for minutes, sir! Chubby dares not open, dares not keep closed!"
"What the –" – he simply just couldn't swear holding Sage in his arms. She slid her arms around him in a comforting hug and peeked up at his face questioningly. Severus helplessly closed his eyes. "Sweet Merlin, hang her!" – he whispered with feeling, and the witch in his arms giggled and kissed his chest.
"If you can make him leave his cave and do that, I might rethink my opinion about the old man."
How she made him smile into her hair in such a moment of pure catastrophe was beyond him, but Severus had to admit that she even now could lighten his mood.
"Chubby, you go and keep an eye on that hag! I will come as soon as I can," – he resolved. "I'm sorry," – he whispered into Sage's hair with rare honesty, reluctant to let her hop off his shelf and adjust her robe. "Would you-" – his courage almost left him, but he had to ask – "could you stay?"
She seemed surprised but smiled at him warmly, which meant the world at the moment. Even more when she lifted her wand to Disillusion herself and backed into his shadowed storeroom.
Severus ordered his appearance with a long sigh – it was much easier than ordering his thoughts–and walked up to the door. A minor Legilimens in training would have sensed his exuberant feelings, but luckily, he soon found that the sight of the Pink Menace would have distracted even a hare in his business. When he called over the corridor to gain her attention, the Toad's abhorrent giggling was repulsive enough to give him back the power over his faculties to the tee.
"Oh, Professor Snape, working even this late hour?"
"Just like yourself, High Inquisitor. What do you need?"
"Well, you should restore my witness," – she emitted a girlish giggle without any apparent reason. "Madam Pomfrey said maybe you could take off this curse. It is nasty. And very impractical."
From the two dozen questions that came to mind, Severus chose the one he hoped to prove the more revealing: "Witness for what?"
"Have you not heard then?" She almost bounced as she approached him with barely withheld glee, "I finally caught the Potter boy, although Cornelius… ehem," she giggled. Then, if it was possible to feign a blush, she did - "I mean, Minister Fudge managed to roll up his intrigue and arrest Dumbledore!"
Her gloating was at this point so obnoxious it almost distracted from her impossible claims. Severus heard a sharp intake of breath behind him and knew Sage must have left the relative safety of his storeroom to eavesdrop. He couldn't fault her, but she made it harder to maintain any farce of polite nonchalance.
"Such an achievement," – he offered with a measured nod. "I still fail to see my role in your exceptional evening."
"An achievement indeed, but only on my part! Unfortunately, those useless Aurors couldn't prevent him from escaping Azkaban. But there's time. The Ministry won't fail to get him. So, will you assist with the girl? She is reluctant to give further evidence, but if someone lifted the curse… I'm sure the Minister would be so very grateful," – she giggled again and waved towards the door as if she wished for entrance – "maybe some additional Veritaserum…."
"I'll see what I can do."
Severus turned on his study's threshold, and, by calculated accident, he happened to pull the door ajar. After he saw a shimmering form retreat to his storage before the Toad managed to follow him, his apology almost sounded honest.
He let Umbridge marvel at the sight of various books scattered around the bookcase and hurried into his storeroom.
"Did you know about this mess?" – Sage promptly whispered.
"I would have told you," – he mumbled. "And you?"
"I haven't even been in the country until about two hours ago… What could have Potter done again?"
Severus grimaced at the multitude of possibilities. These past four and a half years were already sufficient to teach him how to expect the worst.
"Guess we need to find that out too…" – he grumbled.
"What did you just say?" – The Pink's fawning girly voice demanded from too close to the door.
"Nothing of importance!" He felt Sage's shimmering form moving towards the door, and he tried to grab after her to no avail. "Wait," – he hissed and felt her cold touch on his wrist, then a soft, cold kiss under his ear.
"Next time, Severus," – she whispered, and it felt as if her silent voice ran straight down to his loins. "Now, I'd better talk to Minerva."
Severus reluctantly nodded, trying not to lurch, but held her back, and with a deep sobering sigh, stepped out to the Toad.
"Cursed bad luck. It seems I am out of resorts. Maybe I'd be more useful with the curse. Of course, only if you don't wish me to begin a new batch… if I don't waste time, I may be ready… about the beginning of March."
He listened through the Pink's disappointment and, on her insistence, obediently followed her to the Infirmary, leaving the door ajar, this time for Sage. He could only hope that blasted elf had sense enough to 'close the shop' behind her.
Marietta Edgecombe was in histrionics only Poppy's calming draughts could temper, but even with those, the girl could not speak. Watching her grabbing helplessly onto her bedsheets, her eyes flicking across the adult faces around her, getting a fright by their presence anew every second, their scrutinizing gaze held her captive – it all reminded him of the rabbit the wolves chased in the plains of Siberia. The girl wasn't a considerable force of wisdom and brainpower at her best, and was now a mess with the blisters covering the better part of her face.
For a fleeting moment, Severus thought about Sage and the pustules she induced and had to contemplate if this punishment – whoever inflicted it – was deserved. He wouldn't ever dream of getting away so lightly if ever his true dealings came to light, however, seeing such mark of the war on a mere girl's face was disturbing.
Then he cleared his mind at his considerable best to focus on this girl without distractions. His Legilimency was wordless not to frighten Miss Edgecombe any further. He knew Poppy could guess what he was about but hoped it was beyond the Toad. At the moment he entered this confused mind, animalistic fear assaulted him. Panic, devastation, confusion, all bad memories of him hovering above her, all fear of Umbridge, all fear for her mother's sake – well, that was getting interesting.
Fragmented pictures about various owl-posts, Mrs. Edgecombe's visit in Hogsmeade, a woman pleading, tears, a gathering at the Hog's Head, a scroll signed – he had to wonder if the students knew about the curse when they added their names, but nothing suggested within Miss Edgecombe's memories she did. The images rolled on. Endless practice in a room he couldn't recognize but obviously belonged to the castle, Miss Chang's face with disturbing frequency, and jealous hatred for the boy-who-lived.
Severus pulled out his investigating attention from the girl's mind when a new rush of terror ran over her. Umbridge apparently stepped closer and tried to cajole the girl into giving her testimony again, and Severus decided to deprive the Toad of such delusions with no uncertain terms. It might have been a mistake, at least the Pink was decidedly unhappy with the news, but finally, she agreed to have Poppy administer the Sleeping Draught.
"I had higher hopes in your abilities, Professor," – Umbridge began as soon as they had left the ward. "Poppy Pomfrey seemed to be confident about them and assured me of several former occasions when you managed to break a curse."
"Yes, well, all those instances I had the cursed objects at hand," – Severus argued with a grimace of distaste. "Have you procured the item perhaps, or are we in the dark?"
"Of course we have it! Had it… to be precise. That damned piece of parchment these rebellious children signed had an embedded curse that activated minutes after Miss Edgecombe began her tale. It was insufferable, really. The girl refused to utter a word as soon as she saw her reflection!"
"I wonder why," – Severus let it slip on a tone of indifference, "anyway if you wish for success, High Inquisitor, I suggest you hand me the parchment. Without that, I'm afraid–"
"But I don't have that anymore! The Aurors took that as evidence in Dumbledore's infernal plot against the Ministry! Surely, you cannot believe Minister Fudge would risk such an important piece of his case?"
"For a mere student in need at Hogwarts? I leave it in your obviously capable hands, High Inquisitor, to decide upon the steps you should take. Until then, Madam Umbridge," – he inclined his head to something distantly resembling a polite bow and retreated to his dungeons to see if his Slytherins had more to tell.
The Common Room was empty at the late hour, which was reassuring. At least his snakes hadn't lost their minds completely. Unlike him - a little voice of sobriety had to add, and unfortunately, he couldn't argue the point. To get into an altercation with Dolores Umbridge within hours of the Headmaster leaving Hogwarts should have been the most insane thing he had done this year, yet it was hardly even the most insane moment of his evening. Which he knew he should have regretted.
He knew he should. Severus assigned himself a long, thorough strolling across the castle, climbing all the endless stairs and roaming all the corridors to regain some resemblance of that disciplined mind he used to pride himself to own. The very same that he threw away with embarrassing haste at the first opportunity to do what he shouldn't even want.
He should regret it. Because he could easily count the half-hours from the moment he escaped the Toad – and quite possibly Potter – on the corridor, leaving the Headmaster's office. One was down to the gates, one was waiting on Arthur, one engaging in mad arguments, exchanging barbs and magical punches, then one more changing for caresses and kisses and–
He had to stop mid-step. Even the thought sent the pain of frustration to his lower body, squeezing it with a well-known cramp of dissatisfaction he couldn't endure anymore.
The physical pain was one thing, however unpleasant, but facing his stupidity was different altogether. The moment his well-trained sense of danger alerted him by the gates must have only narrowly preceded the Ministry's arrival. Surely the Aurors, maybe even Fudge himself, almost got them out of school and on the grounds. He wouldn't have had a coherent explanation to offer, and he doubted it was different for Sage. Being worked up by Lucius' plea to get her sacked and do the blighter's bidding within hours! Severus roamed the corridors with his robes billowing behind him and marvelled at his own idiocy!
He should regret it all. He should feel guilty to engage a witch who was better bred than that in exploits he shouldn't even think of. Not by Dumbledore's straight orders to avoid her, not by his own decisions and vowing not to ruin her, not to endanger her, but to care about her and make them both first free…. Merlin, what a cretin! He'd almost screwed it all again!
If Miss Edgecombe's sad state wasn't a sufficient reminder of what a spy should calculate upon, then nothing was. Spy for one, a useful tool not more, and traitor for the other. The truest enemy one could have and the one to receive the worst of revenge. Whoever initiated that curse was well within their rights to punish. Just like he should expect to die in pain and dirt if he ever failed. He doubted Potter could pull together something like that, though… He wondered if the boy would if he could. However, judging by his vicious hatred, he couldn't put it far from him.
Miss Edgecombe wasn't circumspect enough. She should have made sure about the curse before taking steps, or never sign anything for her mother's sake. The worst of it was that tonight he hadn't proven himself any better. He only got luckier, but luck was not something to rely on, especially not with such a witch in his arms!
Severus stopped short when he realized his legs took him to the second floor, only steps from her door. Should he knock? The thought pulled up all the longing, all the craving he should repress, regret, and forget for good. He should feel guilty and never approach her. However, when he finally turned away with a deep breath, he only turned by his deep conviction that no man should ever ask for admittance already hiding his carnal salute. Not on a door like that.
Severus returned to his quarters with a new understanding of his severe faults. Because whatever he should feel, he refused to feel remorse. Had the castle collapsed around them, he would have still made love to the witch if he just got a chance, and he dared anyone to walk a mile in his shoes to choose wiser.
Dumbledore already hinted he wished to leave the castle. He might have waited longer but surely used this opportunity to his benefit. He had no illusions that dark times would come. When did he expect anything else? Miss Edgecombe should probably wait for a long time, but if the curse didn't wear off, he was confident he could help when (if) getting that parchment, and Sage…
He was already in his bathroom, preparing to restore some of his sanity with a disgustingly cold shower; now, Severus stopped to examine his features in the mirror. Astonishingly, he didn't seem to himself a modicum nicer. The same ugly nose, hopeless hair, he never thought of his chin or his neck, now he tried to imagine what could have made a woman freely choose to kiss them? Unfathomable.
The more surprising was her seeming to enjoy it! It wasn't hard to recall her touch all over his chest, her taking pleasure in licking, kissing, caressing his skin – he only saw his ribs were still too prominent, his skin too pale, and overall, the mirror presented a scrawny, ugly guy with exactly nothing to offer. Then he remembered the wizard he saw in her mind, only distantly resembling anything he knew himself to be, and blessed her blindness.
The least he could do in exchange was omitting the fact that he recognized her aunt Polla on that balustrade, cursing her with a glance that was cold like stone.