Chapter 8- Bad Moon on the Rise
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Bellatrix was not subtle. Her open robes revealed a low cut black dress with a slit to mid-thigh. She crossed her legs and said, "Hello, Severus."
Was he supposed to be tantalised by the expanse of marble-white flesh exposed? Severus crossed to the drinks cabinet and said, "May I offer you a drink?"
"La Fée Verte."
The English translation was 'The Green Fairy', another name for absinthe, a pale green spirit said to have mind-altering properties. He showed no outer reaction, but inwardly curled a lip. Bella's preference for the drink was well known. She was so enamoured of it, she brought an absinth fountain- a large jar of ice water on a base with spigots- to any party she attended. Severus found the ritual amusingly pretentious. Keeping his thoughts hidden, he said, "Ap Meurig does not stock absinthe, but I can offer you a tolerable elf-wine, or vodka, if you desire."
"If I desire," the witch drawled, rising to her feet. She sauntered over to ask, "What do you desire?"
He wasn't imprudent enough to say 'not you.' Severus preferred to avoid making such a vicious, unstable woman his enemy. He picked up a decanter. "Ogden's Finest."
Bellatrix was silent as he poured a shot of whiskey. He looked at her and raised a brow. She snapped, "Vodka, then. Russian. Neat."
Severus handed her the drink poured with no mixer as requested and walked over to sit in one of the wing chairs flanking the fireplace. The Death Eater sent to "observe his progress" sat facing him. She took a hefty drink and then set the glass on a side table.
"Tea is served, Mr. Snape, Mrs. Lestrange," said Gruffydd, entering with a tray. He placed it on the low table and backed out of the room.
"Gods, are those round things supposed to be biscuits?"
Severus nodded. "They are."
"Gods," she said again.
"Which ones?"
Bellatrix said, "I worship only the Dark Lord."
The fanatical gleam in her eye prompted Severus to change the subject. "To what do I owe the honour of your visit?"
The woman sat up straight with her hands on the arms of the chair as if it was a throne. "Lord Voldemort has a mission for you."
He let the silence drag out. Minutes passed. Severus finally decided to humour the Bellatrix and asked, "What is it?"
She gave a thin smile. "You are to find the one who calls himself the Welsh Werewolf and recruit him to our cause." Her smile became one of genuine pleasure. "Word has reached our master that he rivals Greyback in ferocity."
Was she anticipating Voldemort's approval of her efforts or did she relish the thought of displacing a competitor within the inner circle? He decided not to use Legilimency to discover the answer. It was likely both. Instead, he offered to pour her another drink. Bellatrix gave him a heavy-lidded smile while brushing his fingers with hers to accept the glass.
"I could offer to keep you company until dinner."
He said, "Kind of you, but I must check on the progress of a solution. Gruffydd will return to show you to your room, but first, if you will indulge me, was there a special meaning behind your emphasis of the werewolf's name?"
Half a tumbler of vodka slid down Bellatrix's throat before she said, "I thought I made it clear I was willing to indulge you, but since you prefer potions, I'll repeat what I was told." She recited, "Tales of the Welsh Werewolf date back to the 18th century, when Muggles were terrorised by a creature who roamed this area. It attacked a stagecoach and tore out the throats of the horses, killed people and farm animals before disappearing mysteriously." A fleeting smile crossed her face. "It turned fields into lakes of blood from its carnage."
Severus got the point. Any wizard touting himself thusly was publicly admitting his own feral nature. If proven true, the werewolf would be a useful tool. He nodded and said, "My thanks for the information. Until dinner..."
"I will accompany you. I've always wondered what a Potions Master's dungeon was like, and our Lord expects a report on your progress in that area as well."
He watched Bellatrix drain the rest of her drink. "This way."
Out in the corridor, she fastened her robes with an irritable, "Is this mouldy old dump always this cold?"
Severus replied, "No, it is often colder. The weather is unusually mild for this time of year."
She shuddered. He repressed a smirk.
Down in the dungeon, Severus could tell Bella was disappointed to find it not much different from one at Hogwarts. He did not know what she expected, but worktables, cauldrons, and storage cupboards were standard items.
"I'd thought the specimen jars would be more impressive," she said, reaching out to tap one of the containers floating in air. The eel floating within opened its mouth at her. Bellatrix stumbled back. "Hell! The thing's alive!" She watched it settle back down and said, "I wonder if the Dark Lord could do that to his enemies."
His eyebrows rose, hearing her laughter. Her eyes gleamed with unholy mirth. "How do you think Dumbledore would look pickled?"
Severus quipped, "More wrinkled."
While she examined the specimen jars more closely, he stirred a bubbling solution in a cauldron. Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw something on the floor and bent to pick it up. It was a ribbon. The last time he and Eris had…passed the time…waiting for a potion, he must have dislodged it when he kissed his way down her throat.
Bellatrix had begun to stroll toward him. He quickly stuffed the ribbon into the inner pocket holding letters and the tiny soapstone carving from Tom. She said, "Summon the retainer. There's nothing here to hold my interest, so I may as well go to my room and begin composing my report."
He pretended not to comprehend her double meaning and strode directly to the fireplace used for communication. After summoning Gruffydd, he began chopping black cohosh flowers.
"That odour's revolting!" said Bella, keeping her distance.
That was the idea. He was not brewing insect repellent, but in a way…
"Follow me, Madam."
Severus waited until his unwanted visitor swept out of the chamber to smirk.
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Dinner consisted of Bellatrix drinking steadily while complaining about her room, the castle's lack of amenities, and the poor quality of the food. Severus listened and nodded when she seemed to expect it.
In the drawing room after dinner, she challenged him to a match of wizard's chess. Resigned to allowing her to win, he agreed. Awhile later, he heard,
"Meow…"
The woman sitting opposite saw the cat and did something unexpected. She cooed, "Oh, a kitty! I didn't see her roaming earlier. Come here, puss, Bella will pet you."
The Siamese walked with a strange tread, rear legs bent, almost like a squat, with her hind end and tail lifted. She meowed repeatedly as she padded toward them. Ignoring the woman, Epis dropped beside his chair and began rolling over and over, mewing urgently. Severus grew concerned.
Bella snorted with derision. "Never had a cat, have you? Pick her up."
Once in his lap, Epis put her head into his hand and rubbed hard. He obliging stroked her back. Immediately, she raised her rear end high and began to knead his knee with her front paws, 'talking' constantly. Severus felt a frisson of alarm.
Across from him, Bellatrix taunted, "Do you even know why she's presenting herself to you?"
Epis made a noise like a growl.
He said, "Is she ill?"
"No, you idiot, she's in heat."
It had been a long, long, time since he had leafed through a book on cats in the Hogwarts library, and even then, he had not been concerned with reproduction, for Merlin's sake! He stared blankly as phrases from Tom's letter flashed into mind.
Bloke said it was from Bolivia…Munanchi amulet…find a way to wrap a hair from a girl you desire around it, and who knows…
Bella snickered, lowering her gaze to the cat. "Sorry, pretty puss, I think he's pining for a lost love. Snape's not even interested in his own species. Better go find a virile tomcat to help with your little problem."
Epis sprang off his lap, bounding out of the room, her yowls echoing. The match resumed. Distracted by thoughts of Eris on their bed, waiting for him, he made a careless move.
"Checkmate!" crowed his opponent. "Care for a rematch?"
He had not planned to lose so fast, but did not care. "No, thank you, I have an enquiry to make concerning the mission. Good night."
With a slight stagger, she walked toward the drinks cabinet. "It will be if some tom puts that cat out of her misery. Otherwise she'll be caterwauling all night."
He inclined his head. "Ap Meurig will ensure she does not roam the halls disturbing guests."
"He'd better. I hex anything that disturbs my sleep."
Severus had reached the doorway when she asked, "Are you pining for Greyback's little girl?"
"No," he said coolly.
Disbelieving laughter followed him into the corridor.
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Severus took the stairs two at a time and jogged down the corridor toward his chamber. The moment he closed the door, Eris pushed him back against the wood, rubbing against him. His response to the stimuli was radically different from when she was a cat.
When she released his lips to take a breath, he said, "You are not in heat, you are under a spell."
She laughed throatily and pressed closer. "Call it what you like, as long as you help me with my problem."
Severus fumbled for the cloak pocket and reached inside with one hand to remove the amulet. "Look," he said, "your ribbon, with one of your hairs on it, wound around this and…what are you doing?"
Eris had plucked one of his hairs and was wrapping it around the erotic carving. "There, now we're even, so stop talking and start stripping."
It felt like the blood to his brain immediately rushed south. Severus grinned and dropped the amulet onto a growing pile of clothing.
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In the morning, he freed the hairs from the amulet and locked it away in a bespelled box inside his warded trunk. Perhaps they would utilise it again sometime in the future, but not anytime soon. Mutual love and desire made it too potent. He'd had to drink a double dose of Bottled Sleep in order to become functional.
A sigh brought his attention to the bed, where his partner lay sprawled, deep asleep. She made the tiny sound again. He smiled. It sounded like a contented purr. His smile grew as he put on the Holocaust Cloak.
In the kitchen, he accepted a mug of coffee from Gruffydd and said, "I need the direction of a wizard named Bledri."
The man's face bleached of colour. "Bledri Fawr?"
"Is he a werewolf?"
Fear crossed the old man's face. "Yes."
"Then yes, Bledri Fawr."
After gaining the information, Severus waited for Bellatrix to come downstairs. She wandered into the kitchen a quarter hour after their arranged meeting time, squinting against the light.
"There's no hot water," she said flatly.
Gruffydd said dispiritedly, "Guests must engage their own charms."
"I figured that…afterwards…"
Severus extended a mug of coffee. Bellatrix snatched it, muttering, "If I had the energy to cast a Cruciatus, he'd be writhing in pain."
The retainer's already pale face lost all traces of colour. He shuffled out of the room.
The Death Eater smiled. "He's wise enough to fear me, if nothing else." She drank the coffee and said, "He should fear you, in that gear." Her face showed a flash of fear mixed with admiration. "Where did you get that marvellous cloak?"
"I cannot say."
She shrugged. "Very well, what is the state of your enquiry?"
"I know the werewolf's location."
Bella looked impressed. If she thought he'd made some huge effort to ascertain the whereabouts, he would not disabuse her. She nodded sharply. "Let's go. I want to get this over with so I can return to the Master's side."
Severus almost smiled. Fenrir Greyback had expressed much the same sentiment. He held onto the sleeve of her robe and Apparated to the wizard run pub frequented by Mordred and his old friend Baudwin. A ten minute walk brought them to the stone cottage inhabited by the man they'd come to see.
Bledri Fawr answered the door with a surly, "What do you English want with me?"
Bellatrix took one look at the brawny, shaggy haired man and lifted her wand. Affected by the cloak, her hand shook, making the gesture less than threatening. Severus stepped forward. "We represent the future leader of the Wizarding world, the only wizard who truly values your abilities and wishes to reward them."
"You-Know-Who?" said Bledri, frowning as he took a step back from the figure radiating menace.
"Lord Voldemort," Bellatrix declared proudly.
The werewolf spat at her feet. "I bow to no Englishman, whatever he calls himself."
"Better men than you have died for such insult," the woman said through her teeth.
Severus longed to use a muting spell. She was using all the subtlety of a rock troll. He said persuasively, "The Dark Lord offers you the opportunity to use your gifts..."
Bledri turned his back on them dismissively.
Bellatrix shouted, "Crucio!" When she rescinded the curse, the woman screeched, "Serve our Master or I will make you wish for death!"
On the ground, the werewolf bared his teeth. "I am not so easy to kill."
Severus took hold of Bellatrix's arm, feeling satisfaction when she flinched. In a tone so low the other man visibly strained to hear, he said, "Are you able to regenerate a heart that has been cut out and burnt while you watch? The Dark Lord has need for Inferi, if you cannot be persuaded to gain power instead of death."
"Power?"
Within that single word, Severus heard pain and fear, hope and need. Most importantly, he heard capitulation. Although his "observer" was visibly disappointed, he nodded, and hidden beneath the shadows of his hood, Severus smiled in satisfaction.
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A/N: I've had Disney films…or maybe music in general…on the brain recently, lol. This chapter didn't make me hum CCR, although I titled it for that. Instead, the end made me sing a song from the film Prince of Egypt 'You're playing with the big boys now.' Only two more chapters left in the sequel, so it's about time!
