A/N: The usual disclaimer applies – I don't own any of this.

In which Bella finds that losing Antares to Hogwarts is both easier and harder than she thinks it will be. No real warnings necessary, as I'm going to keep this fic a light R. Sorry if it's a bit dramatic…


Chapter 5: Mournful Preparations

Bella slipped silently into the room, hating herself. Hating herself for feeling like this – this tearing, empty feeling, this feeling of impending doom, impending loss, because her life simply had to be more than that thin frame and that messy, too-long hair and those dirty, talented hands sprawled this way and that on the covers. She shut the door carefully with a slow wave of her wand, eyes intent on Antares' shifting, mumbling form – he'd never slept very deeply, especially not in a strange bed – as she moved closer to the bed, eyes taking in his features with a painfully greedy delight.

She stiffened, averting her gaze as she sat slowly, softly, on the bed beside him. Emotion battered at her in pulsing, destructive waves, wearing down her will to let go, to let him go.

Because he will go, she said fiercely to herself, threading tired hands into his dark hair, he will – and as an apprentice, too, despite everything that he faced there… She smiled to herself, softly, remembering that odd moment of truth, when she heard his pounding, easy gait coming up the stairs and towards her tired, half-slumbering frame in this very room –

"Muuuum," he half-cried, half-whined, poking his – Bella rolled her eyes – messy head round the dark, worn wood of the door, cheeks flushed with excitement. "You're not asleep, are you?" Bella sat up wearily, shaking her head. She knew that tone – it meant he'd tell her his news anyway, didn't it, and –

Oh, Morgana

The tests! Bella felt inhuman energy run through her limbs, driving her to sit up, sit up, as Antares practically tore into the small room, hair bursting haphazardly out of his ponytail as he jumped painfully onto her legs, whooping unintelligibly. She wrestled all five feet of wriggling, overexcited son off her aching legs, a grin spreading onto her face as they struggled briefly, Antares giving up and sagging peaceably into her arms, laughing like he'd not done for a long, long time.

"I got in," he said quietly, after she'd drawn him into her lap, like she'd done when he was younger and far less heavy. Bella branded his warm forehead with proud lips.

"I'm no fool, Antares. I know – I know…" Bella let go of him almost immediately, dragging herself from under the covers. "Where is Severus?"

"Downstairs staring into a bottle of Butterbeer, muttering somethin' 'bout 'twitchy brats'," Antares said scornfully, bouncing foolishly on the hard mattress. "You know what he's like." Bella nodded, unable to keep back an equally foolish smile – this meant so much to him, to both of them, with extra Galleons saved for things her lonely son wanted to steal but did not, with extra Sickles for a really good cloak for the winter that always hit them so hard. Bella summoned a threadbare hairbrush from the dresser – the same one she'd used on her twitchy, complaining son this very morning, in fact – and began to drag it through her hair. "Are you going down to see him?"

"And if I am?" Bella replied, giving him a challenging look. "Where else will I meet someone who'll actually tell me what happened during those blasted tests?"

"You only had to ask, Mum," Antares cried, tumbling messily off the bed and scrambling up to her, face still bright with hope and pure satisfaction. Bella rolled her eyes and grumbled, but allowed him to latch himself onto her arm as she descended the stairs, gabbling a mile a minute about how big Hogwarts was, and how many rooms, and how much food

Bella pressed tired fingers to her eyes, feeling foolish for the tears that sprang up to them. She'd known she'd miss his chatter, but not like this, not remembering the detailed description he'd given of the lunch he'd had and feeling oddly nostalgic, not –

"Bella? Are you – " Severus came striding awkwardly into the room, looming over her and the tossing Antares as usual. "Don't tell me you're pining for him already – "

"Be quiet," Bella remarked absently, brushing her roughened fingers over Antares' slightly furrowed brow. "He sleeps lightly – I don't want to wake him again." Cheeks reddening a little, she bent and pressed a kiss to her son's forehead, not allowing herself to climb into the threadbare sheets beside him and tuck him in her arms, because sleeping fully dressed was always so uncomfortable, and –

And she might miss work tomorrow. And Severus was hovering in the doorway, looking oddly unnerved, approving and displeased all at once, in the way only he could.

So she rose from the bed, and slipped out as gently as she could, trying not to care that Severus' dark eyes were on her as she carefully wiped her eyes on her way out. She'd meant to stay longer, but –

"Would you like some tea, Bella?" Severus' quiet, overly polite enquiry startled her from her introspection, enough that she nodded without even looking at him, inwardly bemoaning her foolish manners and odd stiffness. There was no need to be impolite to him, simply because her brat son was disappearing off to Hogwarts tomorrow for more than three months

It caught Bella completely by surprise when she felt herself crumple to the side of her chipped teacup, not sobbing, not crying like some vulgar witch.

I am a Black, she reminded herself, whispering hoarsely. Blacks do not cry. They don't

It kept the tears at bay for a full five minutes, until Severus' thin hand covered hers awkwardly, and the cursed things escaped. Bella kept her head down – she knew she did not cry well at all, not like Andromeda –

Oh, Merlin, my sister, my blood – you and your child, flesh of your flesh. How much I envy you

Bella held on stubbornly to the thin hand that had been offered to her, heart collapsing in unto itself, chest tightening with something that was part panic, part aching, looming loss – something she hadn't felt since that horrifyingly cold, desperate night that she'd invoked every last bit of her magic to keep Antares breathing, used her blood. The emotions rose hot inside her chest for what seemed like an age, then cooled into the stubborn lump that had been in her throat for most of the day.

Then, and only then, did she let go of Severus' hand, almost hastily. Bella sat up slowly, wiping down her wet face, lined from the grooves in the table, studiously avoiding the penetrating gaze of the man across from her. He probably did not understand, but that did not matter. All Bella knew was that if she held his warm hand any longer, she would press cruel lips to it, and lean in to smell him, because he smelled a little like her son, and –

No. Not for him – not like that. She held back a sniff and absently rubbed at a slightly depressed line in her cheek, feeling miserable and not a little embarrassed.

"I suppose," Severus began, a little hesitantly, "he told you everything of the tests."

"Yes," Bella said lowly, creating a handkerchief wearily from the air before her. "Wasted two hours of my sleep, into the bargain." She paused for a long minute, then continued. "I never asked you what you thought, did I?"

"No." Bella nodded slowly, now venturing a taste of the cup of tea before her. No milk, enough sugar to kill a doxy – perfect. She let a half-smile play at her lips, asking Severus if he would tell her what he thought on the matter with her eyes as she took another long, slow sip of the tea.

He sighed, frustrated as always, but soon began. "The first thing that comes to mind, for me, is that he is – ah – afraid. Of whom is important, however – there is Hagrid – no real surprise there, the huge lout, and – oh, yes, Minerva McGonagall, and the Headmaster. Although, with him, it is more of a bemused sort of fear, as is usual with more unruly students. At least, I think so." Severus took a deep sip from his cup, face showing only a negligent amount of interest in their conversation as he put forth his opinion in that forthright, nearly insulting manner that was uniquely his. Bella stifled a small smile – he'd never really been one for a joke, especially if somehow at his expense – and listened on.

"The written exam went better than I supposed it would, actually."

"Really?" Hope and embarrassment fought in her chest – how she wished she'd thought to do something about Antares' awful skills –

"His penmanship is, of course, nearly illegible," Severus said, shrugging with a sort of casual cruelty, "but he did understand far more of the questions than I expected him to. With some further intensive lessons and a little judicious humiliation from his peers, he should be perfectly literate in no time. Goodness knows some of the brats we get aren't, even with a real wizarding education from home." Another sip. "The practical tests, however – "

"Oh, yes, he told me those went well," Bella cut in, relief flooding her. Antares hadn't been too clear on what had happened exactly, only to say that they'd made him summon things in the Charms. Severus fixed her with a direct look, tinged with grudging admiration.

"He performed extremely well. Even coaxed that twitchy bungler of a Quirrell into trying to teach him the Disarming Charm – then proceeded to perform it on his first try. And in Charms – Bella, why did you never think to tell me he could use Summoning Charms?" She gave him a sly smile.

"Well, now you know." He rolled his eyes, setting down his cup with a decisive clink.

"You could have informed me, of course. I looked like a fool, gaping at him with the rest of them – "

"You gaped? Really, Severus?" He glared at her, then went on, ignoring her question.

"Flitwick is probably already devising special NEWT coursework and research for the poor little fool even now." Black eyes found hers again. "You should have told me, Bella. It was not wise in the least to reveal such a skill without cause – I could have warned him – "

"It will be fine," Bella replied, stroking a deep scratch on her cup's saucer. "If I know anything about that boy, he stopped summoning things for Flitwick, or whoever, a long way before his potential."

"I suppose the concept of preserving the secret of his strength may not be entirely alien to him, then," the dour man grudgingly conceded, downing the last of his tea. "He is talented, as you said, I'll give him that. What I am unsure of is if he has the sense to shape and cultivate that – "

"Did you know he partly convinced me to take up your offer of refuge, Severus?" Bella cut in, sighing a very little as she set down her half-empty cup. Finally, a chance to speak her mind –

"You cannot be – you are not serious." Short statements – colour in his cheeks – classic signs of a disbelieving Severus Snape. Bella found herself wanting to pinch those cheeks – even the slight flush in them was pale, really –

"Have I deceived you since we arrived, Severus?" Bella said, lowering her voice as she looked him in the eye, deliberately not thinking about how persuasive it had become. She knew, for goodness' sake, that she was fragile, and, at the moment, craved some kind of care to soothe her impending loss, but she would control this. All she needed to do was to make Severus let go of this view of his – that Antares was somehow not entirely sensible. It had nothing to do with herself. "I am entirely serious." He stared down at the table, jaw working silently as he scratched at the handle of his cup.

"What is it that you want from me, Bella?" Severus said quietly.

"I only ask," Bella replied, fighting the sudden, obviously foolish impulse to touch his cheek. This had nothing to do with her. This was for Antares – "that you show him the same…respect…that you do me, when he earns it."

"When he earns it," Severus repeated lowly after her. Odd – so odd that she looked up at him, and realised that he had lowered his eyes to her mouth, and even though he averted them easily, she found herself considering. That he was young for a teacher at Hogwarts, and could hardly liaison with, who was there, even – Madam Rosmerta, or –

"Yes." Oh dear, Bella-my-love, she could hear the old, old voice of Madge Perkins cackling in her ear, as currents wove themselves through her skin. Oh dearie me

And slowly, as if against its owner's will, Bella could see Severus' slightly damp hand settle on top of the table, almost casually, and did not know what to do. Unfortunately, her body knew, and reacted, and she watched her own damp hand settling on top of his, fingers trailing along his wiry wrist as she decided foolishly that his skin was warmer than it looked. She chanced a look, a sideways sort, in his direction, wondering what on earth was really happening. He looked like he was suppressing something, and even as she rose a little clumsily to hover behind him and sink her hands into the tense muscles of his shoulders, she knew it was a question. A Severus Snape without a question was almost unheard of, especially in this sort of situation –

"Bella – "

"What?" She knew her tone was obdurate, that her voice had reached that seductive threshold that belonged to the Blacks and to them only, and she found she did not care. Not very much.

"I – " Severus faltered, in a way that made a small smile wind itself into her lips. It must have been long for him, since – "This is – hmm. This is not wise."

"You do not think I know that?" Bella replied, surprised at the impatient note on which she ended that sentence, her fingers seeking out the blushing, slightly greasy skin of his warm neck. "I know. Blacks are not wise – how many times have you told me that? Sneered that my way?" She worked slightly cool fingers beneath his collar, loosening it as she bent over him, to whisper in his ear. "Do you not wish to be unwise, sometimes?" If he was to refuse, now was the perfect time. Bella bit her bottom lip, keeping a safe distance from his flushed skin – he was stubborn, and she wondered if he would refuse –

Are you actually hoping he says yes? The remnant of Rodolphus' voice seemed to sneer at her. Greasy Severus Snape, above you in his greasy bed? How desperate you must

"Are you certain?" Severus' voice was very sharp, sharp enough to cut, enough to make Bella's fingers pause on his neck. "Because – this would change a lot of things. A lot."

"Would it?" Bella replied, voice harsher than she intended. This wasn't going the way she planned – he sounded as if he would say – and she wanted, needed someone large and warm and smelling of foul, pleasurable things beside her tonight, and possibly the next. Angry with disappointment and self-ridicule, she removed her hands from his neck.

His own thin hand seized firmly at her wrist, and she felt immeasurably better. "I suppose not," he muttered, more to himself than to her, but it was enough.

Bella could not prevent a wry, triumphant smile rising to her lips as he roughly kissed her palm, anticipatory heat pooling down below.

They would have to be careful, that went without saying. But –

"Will you…? To my room…?"

Bella put her other hand into Severus' collar, the triumphant smile widening as he rose, barely an inch taller than her, black gaze hungrily roaming her body.

Just because her son was leaving her for Hogwarts didn't mean her life would be over.

Severus, she found a moment later, had an oddly nice mouth, and a way with those thin hands. And tall enough. He could Apparate here on weekends.

It would be possible, for at least a while.


Bella woke up with a small jolt, wondering why she felt so – so warm. Antares was never –

A small shift and a manly groan erupted from beside her, even as a warm, wiry arm tightened around the – she blinked blearily – bare skin of her waist. A quick feel told her she was naked below the thin sheets, and beside –

Oh dear.

Bella tried not to goggle too long at the slumbering mass on the bed beside her, all pale skin and interestingly defined back muscle under worn covers. And greasy hair – greasy pillow. She shifted, breathing slightly faster now. She hadn't been drunk last night – that didn't explain this – she'd definitely done this of her own accord. She ran a tired hand through her hair. She should have known this would happen – Bella had never really been able to manage her passions as best as she could, and now, just when she'd not been with male company for long, Severus had dangled before her, an obscure, but certainly tempting alternative. What was important was that Antares did not –

Oh.

All at once, the craving for warmth and the strong desire to cry hit her again. Her son – her only son, going away to Hogwarts. And Severus slumbering too peacefully beside her, the fruit of her selfish desperation. A sob escaped Bella without her even noticing it, and though she choked the rest of it down, it was enough.

"Bella…?" Warm pale muscle rolled around, muzzy black eyes alighting – still hungry – on her bare chest. "Ah." And, although Bella shook her head, to try to make him see she was just – "No – it is fine. I understand…" Severus gulped slightly, a pale, slightly trembling hand extending to her pained face for a moment as he looked at her from under low lashes. "Use my shower…? I'll see if that dratted boy is awake." And without even a real answer from her, he'd rolled absently out of the warm nest of sheets, summoning that threadbare blue dressing gown of his, but not before she got a good glimpse of pale skin, and half-hard –

Well.

Possibilities seemed to spin before her in the shower that morning, as Bella hastily completed her toilet only to stand, staring at her slightly lined face in the mirror. Most of the lines were from the pillow – Severus really had the most horrible set – and the tired look was from Antares and his journey and the wearying day ahead of her at Madame Malkin's. But still –

Bella longed to throw something at the mirror, but did not. She dressed instead, taking care to do it in front of Severus when he returned briefly to find something or other, and felt fiercely purposeful and proud when he lingered confusedly. Unnecessarily.

She wanted to hit herself. Why did she suddenly want him, now? Because he'd rolled so easily out of her bed? Preposterous. Really.

What is it with Blacks and difficult people? Bella wondered absently, later at breakfast, as he and Antares sniped at each other almost companionably, though neither of them would ever admit it. Even Antares – bless him – isn't the most tractable boy. Why do I do this to myself?

Later, at the station, staring at the absolute red of the Hogwarts Express, bitter things fighting in her chest, Antares tugging heart-achingly on her sleeve, Severus being stiffly courteous (too courteous) to that Sinistra, Bella could not, for the life of her, understand why.

But, for now – for her sanity – she put it aside, and smiled down at Antares and combed proud, wistful fingers through his slightly too long hair, and let him hold her the way he'd favoured at least two years ago, winding thin arms around her middle and sinking his thin face into her side. And when she felt a familiar dark gaze on her, she allowed herself a single look, and a single wry, wistful smile.

Life, even the hard one she now had, was too short to worry and think on consequences.

The Hogwarts Express whistled and steamed off, carrying off the two of the few balancing influences in her life – one old, one new, and yet not so. And yet her heart was lighter than it should have been on her obscure return to Spinner's End, because she thought she'd seen Severus leave a note, in the bustle to be out of the ailing cottage.

And so he had. Bella settled before the small fire in his room with the unopened missive, feeling oddly content to leave it as it was. It was enough that he was certain to return.


A/N: Did y'all see that coming? I must admit, neither did I. Bella's a very determined character – not one to wait and pine and gaze at something she wants, no matter how badly or how little she wants it. I'll let you draw your own conclusions about what happened between her and Severus, and whether it will last or continue or whatever, and will (unfortunately evil grin) not be answering any questions on the issue. Mind you, that I say that means entirely NOTHING in the way of foreshadowing. It all depends on her.

And of course, since I was conflicted about uploading this chapter in the first place, I've got a second one following close behind it! Isn't that great? Get ready for Chapter 6: To Hogwarts He Goes. Plus some real acknowledgements to reviewers (nothing by the way of answers, because of the lovely new review-reply feature recently added) in the next.