A/N: In which Bella is happy, and celebrates Christmas. That is, all at the same time.
WARNING If you really don't like Bella/Severus, I strongly reccommend you don't read this, as it's very much in the same vein as Chapter 11: Various Doings. Hopefully I need say no more than that. Enjoy!
Chapter 15: A New Kind of Holiday
Bella was humming.
She grinned, and continued to do so. It was an irritating habit her mother and countless aunts, relatives and frowning society women had never quite been able to curse out of her, and she knew it. She liked discordant melodies the most, and had a stubborn knack for remembering the ones she loved best. She'd been scraping by in a dim, cold Muggle theatre about four or five years ago on one of her somewhat futile, yet irresistible journeys back to Margaret Crenshaw's wizened side (Maggie lived in an equally wizened, tiny spot of a house that Bella somehow found comforting to visit, even after all these years), and had had the fortune (or misfortune) to hear several concerts and plays through and around the stiff doors that separated the paying from the paid.
Bella smiled, fondly, her wand twisting slightly in her hand as she continued to go through the now-familiar motions of housekeeping spells, brightening a spot there and straightening a cushion there, and finally getting that irritating film of dust off the bookshelves in the living room. In that time, she'd heard music to make even her hard heart sigh, music to make her blood boil just as well as a round of particularly nasty Dark Curses aimed at someone who deserved it, music to make her skin thrum with memories of odd parts of her life that she'd scarcely recalled by then. People she'd manipulated. Men she'd lusted after – paths she'd taken, forks in the road of her strange existence.
Bella couldn't help grinning again, it was so absurd. All of that feeling, that odd revolving in time behind her absurd little absurdity of a ticket window, all of it reduced into a steadily whistled tune that broke in places she couldn't quite recall. Perhaps there was some credence to the rumour that madness ran in her family, indeed.
The wards strained, heavily, then suddenly gushed, allowing the appearance of Severus and Antares all at once, laden with small bits of baggage and a small ingredient case she knew must be empty. Severus never Apparated with his ingredients – went against some stupid code of potions master honour, for all she knew. And it affected some plants and things if your concentration was off –
"Mum!" Antares' half-shout, half-squeal was like discordant music to Bella's ears as he dropped his load here and there on the floor and ran, ran, like he used to, into her arms. "Did you get my last letter? My writing's so good now, isn't it? It was almost snowing at Hogwarts, Mum – the train back was excellent, is there supper, I'm sort of friends with a Warrington–"
"Ssh," she whispered into his neck, breathing deep, stooping as much as was allowable, not wanting to let this moment go. Not really wanting him to 'ssh' anyway. "I've missed you, Antares."
"Good," was his breathless answer as his small arms squeezed around her waist. "I did too. Miss you." Bella smiled into Antares' neck, raising eyes to see Severus already painstakingly levitating their scattered luggage through the door and towards the stairs, his dark eyes roving about the room. "And Professor Snape says I can be on the Quidditch team next year, and about half of the players already like me…"
"You'll be wanting a broom, then," Bella remarked, smiling as she let him go, refraining the itch to put his wild hair in order. "Don't worry – Madame Malkin's is paying enough. I'll get you one, you'll see…" her voice trailed off as she glanced in Severus' direction. She looked down at her son quickly, stifling a sigh at the odd, rigid nature of his face. She wasn't quite sure why that last statement had bothered him, but – "Antares, will you set the table? There's roast lamb in the oven, if you'll care to get it out and stop babbling." Antares grinned and was off in a flash, leaving Bella free to pick a trifle nervously at her robes and go after Severus. It was always easier if she pried whatever was bothering him out into the open as soon as possible.
"You changed the pillowcases," was the first thing Severus said to Bella as she nudged his door open, consciously restraining herself from eyeing him up and down and slinking into his room to do something decidedly – "And don't think I haven't been noticing those dusting spells you've been casting on my bookshelves, either."
"And a Merry Christmas to you too, Severus," she replied wryly, deciding she'd enter the room anyway. Antares wouldn't think of it as anything wrong – she'd certainly done that enough times before he'd gone off to Hogwarts, and he really hadn't even noticed it. "You know very well coercing you to talk about what's eating at you with my son in the kitchen is rather impossible. Just sit down and tell me what it is, please."
When he actually did, Bella couldn't hold back a slight gasp of surprise. "You're giving in? Are you well, Severus?"
"Simply tired," he replied shortly, rubbing at his eyes, the movement oddly forlorn for someone so normally fierce. "And worried, of course." Bella crossed to sink down by him on the bed, calculating that even if Antares saw, all he'd really see was her gossiping away to Severus. "The Headmaster is a fool – hiding something of such great importance–" Severus stopped abruptly, looking furious with himself. Bella leaned in, touching his arm. "Hogwarts isn't nearly as safe as he thinks. I wish he would see that…"
Feeling guilty and yet compelled to do it, Bella kissed him, cutting off his maudlin tone. It lasted a fair bit longer than what she'd had in mind, mostly because Severus seemed to fall on her like a ravening wolf, his hands skittering rudely up to her breasts and then –
A break. She gasped, needing the air, needing some kind of shock to remind her that things weren't perfectly safe with Antares in the house, that she couldn't just shove a limber hand down the front of his robes and squeeze.
"Didn't we say–" Severus began in that horribly good hoarse voice, from near enough that she shivered and kissed him again.
"Just a kiss," Bella breathed into Severus' ear, trying to keep some control back. "He won't see, or know –
"Mealtime!" Antares practically roared up the stairs. Bella closed her eyes and stifled a chuckle as Severus groaned softly, rolling his eyes.
"Don't sulk," she whispered in his ear, watching as he practically tore off his robes, the expression on his face one of thunderous, shiver-inducing lust. "Christmas night should be fine, he always sleeps deeply then." Bella blew Severus a kiss, unable to repress her grin. "I'll come to your room, Severus."
"Bella," Severus half-groaned, half-muttered, but she was whisking out of the room as quickly as possible, mindful of how easily Antares might saunter up the stairs and start searching for her just because she'd not answered immediately. And, true to form, there he was, scrambling up the stairs, his hair looking wilder than ever, then pausing and grinning as he saw her emerge at the top of them.
"There you are," he said, rolling his eyes in an all-too-familiar way that made her grin again, and rapidly decide he could do with a bit of chasing down the stairs, even if she couldn't catch him. "I've just set out the – what, Mum no, I'm too old for – no!"
Bella flipped her hair over her shoulder, unable to keep from laughing as Antares, wide-eyed, tore into the kitchen in a way that suggested he wasn't too old for the chase at all.
That evening passed quicker than many others Bella had known. It all streamed by her in a blur of quiet laughter and the odd, tight feeling she had every time Antares bumped into her in the kitchen or elsewhere. Severus' eyes seemed to linger on her throughout the night, making her want to blush or, even more unwisely, walk over and, with a patented mix of seduction and judicious prying, see what precisely had worn him down enough to want her like this. The hours seemed impossibly full as she finally sat Antares down beside her in the living room and patiently heard out his excitement about Hogwarts while steadily going through every non-invasive diagnostic spell she could remember.
Bella sighed now, running tired fingers through her hair as she bullied a staunchly complaining Antares up the stairs. By the time she'd finally gotten him to even agree that his bedtime was drawing near, she'd been the proud possessor of the knowledge of everything he'd eaten for breakfast for the last week, as well as the startling amount of new spells he'd learnt. Bella had pointedly avoided all talk of the disturbing encounter with the troll, despite knowing how proud it would probably make him to tell her the exact details. She knew very well how reckless and uncaring for his own safety that Antares could be in the right situation – no need to go on encouraging that sort of thing.
"Mum, I'm not sleepy," Antares said crossly, rubbing wearily at his eyes in a manner that contradicted his statement directly. "I'm just–"
"A little tired, I know," Bella said, rolling her eyes. A flick of her wand, and the door was opening, just in time for Antares to half stumble into their room. More his than theirs now, but she wouldn't think of that.
"And you're not coming to bed, are you?" Antares accused, now heading for the rickety wardrobe in the corner. Bella smiled, watching him rummage through the few things he'd left behind, that tight feeling surfacing sharply in her chest.
"Not yet, darling," she murmured, going over to aid his struggle out of the school robes he'd refused to take off all evening. As his shirt came off, Bella struggled not to stare; it looked almost like his burns had gotten a little larger –
"Ow," Antares muttered, as she tried to gently feel the surface of the larger portion of the irregular stripe. "Don't–"
"What do you mean, 'ow'?" Bella demanded, blinking back her alarm. "Has your back been hurting again, or–"
"It has," Antares yawned, sounding sleepier by the minute as Bella bent closer to examine the thick, irregular stripe that had been carved down his back by some nameless fire, during the two or three years she'd not had the chance to watch over him. "Well, been itching, but it did hurt a bit just now–"
"When I touched it?" Bella let her fingers skim the burn lightly, noting that Antares did not flinch again.
"I'm not really sure," he replied, sounding a little confused. "It just itches, sometimes, and sometimes it hurts when I've been working hard or something."
"But more than before?" Bella sighed as he nodded, filing it away as yet another thing to worry about, and possibly question Severus on. Her resolve to speak to him on the matter strengthened as she finally tucked Antares away into bed, smiling faintly at his weak protests all the way. Although she could hardly see how he would know what to do in such a situation, there would be no harm in asking.
Just as she was about to rise from her nearly unconscious seat on the bed, Antares' sleepy voice stopped her.
"Mum? I was right about moving, wasn't I?" Bella froze for a minute, then smiled, suddenly remembering that fearful conversation, the first one they'd shared in this house. "Wasn't I?" The fond smile deepened into a more satisfied one as she leant over to press a kiss to Antares' forehead.
"I suppose so," she murmured softly, something seeming to relax within her. It occurred to her now that he had, in fact, been right. Perhaps a little more right than he might like in the future, as regarded her relationship with Severus, but – still.
Right was right. "Goodnight, Antares."
"Night, Mum," followed her out of the room, enabling her to shut the door softly and not feel quite as guilty as she did trooping down into the kitchen after looking in at Severus' room to be sure of his location. It turned out that he was seated in the kitchen at the table that had featured prominently in their activities, both conversational and not, and was engaged in staring a little blankly at the open newspaper before him. Severus' head shot up as she sat down beside him and gently touched an elbow, making her feel a little more uneasy. What could be so worrying as to leave him in such a state of tension?
Several answers presented themselves in the forefront of her mind, each more ridiculous than the last. Tenure would never be a problem for Severus, not with Dumbledore owing him an arm and a leg for his activities during the war in such a conspicuous manner, and he'd said nothing of problems with the other professors, or with the notoriously conservative school board at Hogwarts. Sighing, Bella reached for one of his idle hands, stroking it absently as she tried not to think of the last time she'd seen something like that tense anticipation about him.
That option was more ridiculous than all the rest, despite what she knew of – of her former master. Bella sneered inwardly, familiar, cold satisfaction welling up in her at the thought of the Dark Lord's plans being foiled by the Longbottoms – by the youngest pair's one-year-old spawn, no less, if the tale was true – which she suspected was the contrary (the husband hadn't died for nothing, she was sure, and they had both been rather good Aurors, if she remembered rightly), but found bitter amusement in the fact that the rumours of the Longbottom boy's 'powers' held so true. Despite all the measures the Dark Lord had taken, Death had caught hold of him with cold, implacable hands and consigned him elsewhere – hopefully to the hell Maggie's few Muggle friends had muttered about in her hearing on occasion, during the long months of her recovery and the sporadic visits that followed afterward.
Bella shook her head with a sigh. It was no good dwelling on those bitter days, or on the bitter mess a few years of foolish choices had made of her life. She had new things now – a new life, almost. Even Severus, as mired in the past as he sometimes was, had a claim to that new life, as well as a claim to one of his own.
"You should be asleep, you know." Bella blinked, startled by the unexpected comment from the man beside her. "Beside your son."
"Yes," she said, a very slightly guilty smile tugging at her lips. "I'm hardly here for what you suppose I am, though." Not giving him a chance to respond – he was rather persuasive when he wished to be, and right now, Bella knew she needed to talk about the things that had been weighing on her mind, and thought he needed to do the same. "There are more pressing things on my mind than seducing you, you know. That business about the troll, for example – I still can't quite imagine what on earth Hogwarts must be coming to, with trolls able to penetrate the school defences."
Severus laughed, almost harshly. "Penetrate the defences indeed. A troll, to boot – less chance of that than of Potter's mangy ghost surfacing in my dungeons, of course." Bella's breath caught, just a little. The way he sounded – "The Headmaster believes that the school is safe enough, though, so all my feelings must necessarily be rubbish."
"Safe enough? Safe enough for what?" The bitter smile on his face fell somewhat, alarming Bella even further.
"I cannot say. No – don't press me, I truly cannot." He looked down at the still-open newspaper before them, slowly closing and opening his eyes. "I may simply be wrong, you know that."
Bella watched him for a moment, her hand, which had paused in its activity as soon as he'd begun to talk, now continuing to stroke his. "It seems to me that you need to stop thinking about the situation," she tried, knowing the chances of her advice being taken were slim. Most of the men she'd known were notorious for refusing to take advice, and Severus was – well – rather the sort to be inclined in that direction. Bella tried not to let the wry smile take her as she let her eyes drift over his scowl. Inclined in that direction, at the very least – "Come to bed, won't you?"
Dark eyes caught and held hers for a long moment. "With you, or without you?" Bella bit her lip, considering. It just wouldn't be safe – "Oh, forget it. I should have known–"
"Excuse me?" Bella demanded, blinking as Severus suddenly stood, all angles and anger again. She stood in turn, grasping firmly at his elbow as he made to step away from the table. "Oh, don't play coy with me – you think I'm not serious about this, don't you?"
"Is there anything else I should think?" Severus replied lowly, through gritted teeth. "I–"
"Severus, you are a fool," Bella calmly informed him, stepping around his already moving form to bring them face to face. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."
"If you don't wish to endure it, walk away," he replied, more curtly than the desire and frustration Bella could see in his expression required. Rolling her eyes, she tilted her chin up at him defiantly, and was not very surprised when his arm slipped abruptly round her waist and moved her closer. She sighed into his neck, wondering whether any relationship between them was destined to be this stilted whenever he was in a bad – "Bella? I – I understand you wish to be cautious, but–"
"You've always been impatient." Severus didn't refute the statement, and Bella sighed, finally giving in to the rising desire she could feel deep within as well, leaning forward to touch her lips to his.
"Stop doubting me, will you?" she murmured against his lips, enjoying the feel of his hands caressing her back and dipping lower, to caress her arse. "It begins to be very annoying."
Severus nodded, a little awkwardly due to the close quarters, and set about thoroughly breaking their mutual resolution, first with a slow, searing kiss that reminded Bella of why she'd thought this a good idea in the first place, and then with an even slower consummation of their desire, behind the triply locked door of his room. Afterwards, as she drifted off into sleep, she reassured herself that this time was only because he was so troubled. They had to be careful, and they could both respect that from now on.
Morning found her wearily extracting herself from the rather too welcome shelter of Severus' arms in order to be in Antares' bed to prevent further suspicion. Severus had almost smiled at her when she'd woken in slight panic and began to retreat, and that added to the thorough satisfaction she felt at falling asleep beside her son and waking up to the familiar pokes in the side – this time, from his own wand. Bella, though a little tired from how late she'd slept the last night, found herself well up to the challenge of trying to wrestle Antares' wand from him, and felt more than tempted to stage a duel with him, to see precisely how good he was.
It had given her an almost disproportionate amount of pride to hear him talk of the useful things he'd learnt, and, as she finally swiped his wand from his protesting hands, she filed it away as yet another thing to talk to Severus about. Using her wand to cast any sort of masking field to prevent Antares' magic from being detected would be horribly suspicious, and with Antares in such a prominent position as an Apprentice in Hogwarts, it would not do for her to draw undue attention to herself. Particularly with Lucius and Narcissa's horrible little son in Antares' year, and with Lucius' distressing amount of ties in the Ministry – these things always got out somehow.
Besides, Bella thought, nodding in approval as Antares announced his intention to take a shower, it was Christmas week, and such a short holiday was better spent on rest and relaxation than on plotting ways of getting around the Ministry without drawing the notice of her many enemies. The summer holiday would be a much more appropriate time, if Severus agreed, for setting up masking charms and teaching Antares spells he needed to know.
"Antares? I'm going to see if Severus is using his shower – I'll need to be at work quite soon, so…" Antares gurgled something that sounded accommodating in reply, and Bella was soon shutting Severus' door for what had to be the fourth or fifth time that morning. "Still in bed?"
Severus turned over in answer, mumbling something vague. Smiling, Bella stripped, heading directly for the shower. Whether he would join her or not was moot this morning, of course – she had to be at Madame Malkin's earlier than usual today to help stem the tide of the Christmas rush, so coaxing Severus out of bed with a well-placed word or hand was out of the question. The shower and her hurried toilet were quickly done, despite the presence of Severus and his incorrigible taunts and hints during the latter, so when Bella made her way downstairs, it surprised her that the kitchen was not still empty.
On the contrary, Antares was flitting about, still looking rather sleepy. A somewhat ramshackle breakfast for two of hot scones and spreads was laid out on the table, and after staring in surprise for a moment or two, Bella sat down and helped herself to it with a will.
"Working early, then?" Antares asked a little uselessly, poking at the rather obviously burning bacon in the pan on the stove.
"Christmas rush," Bella said simply, declining to comment. She couldn't count how many times she'd warned him that eating badly done bacon was unhealthy, and didn't feel at all like openly worrying the issue again. "Is that bacon?"
"I know it smells burnt, but it's not," Antares said stubbornly, making her smile. "And anyway, I'm taking it off–"
"I just rather thought I'd like some," Bella said, not bothering to keep the amusement out of her voice. "No need, no need – it's obviously still not done, anyway." Antares' eyes narrowed at her for a moment, causing her to take an interest, once more, in her tea. "Anyway, I just wanted to ask, before I leave – hasn't Severus thought to teach you the Adimo yet? It is a little advanced, but since you've already mastered Disarming Charms so easily, it wouldn't hurt."
Silence reigned unexpectedly for a moment, causing Bella to look over at Antares. He was still stirring a little aimlessly at the bacon in the pan, but the look on his face was far more thoughtful than before. "Antares–"
"Snape's not the one who taught me the spells, mum," Antares said, a little quietly. "Don't you remember? One of the Professors at the tests–"
"So?" Bella said impatiently, not understanding. "Was it that new professor, or–"
"Yeah, Professor Quirrel. He's sort of one of the people that does my Apprenticeship stuff, so…"
"Ah," Bella replied, not overly surprised. Severus had said nothing of Antares being taught practical duelling spells, and probably couldn't have for a very salient reason. The way things were, he did have to distance himself from Antares at Hogwarts – it wouldn't be safe for any of them if he did otherwise. "Well, ask him about the Adimo, next time." Bella stood, absently directing a buttered scone or two into a foil wrapper in case she badly needed a break at work. Antares seemed to relax a little at the way she deliberately took no notice of the little situation, and it made her feel a little better about embarrassing him by kissing him goodbye as she prepared to Apparate. "Do be good today – it'll be a long while before I come home, tonight, what with the rush, and I'd rather not come home to see Severus' home in tatters," she said sternly, before languidly twisting her wand and feeling the familiar squeeze of Apparation.
As Bella had thought, it was after her normal working hours by the time she could Apparate home, and even then, she was laden down with shrunken, irritatingly wriggling mannequins and several robes that needed rapid alteration before tomorrow morning, when most of them would be rush owled, Floo'ed, Apparated and even Portkeyed to panicky men and women after a cursory check by Madame Malkin, who had worked on many of these last-minute commissions herself. Bella, temporarily corralling the still-wriggling mannequins in a spot in the living room with a series of clumsy, but effective binding spells on the peripheral ones, decided she rather deserved a sit down and a spot of dinner before she tackled them and their accompanying bundles of showy fabric. After irritably Stupefying them when two or three of them wouldn't stop quarrelling and chipping away at each other, she headed for the kitchen, from which voices were emanating.
"What's it matter to you if I learn anything from him, anyway?" Antares was demanding vehemently, just as Bella opened the door. "He's a good teacher when he's not stuttering, so I don't see–" Antares paused, half-rising from the empty kitchen table as he caught sight of her. Severus, his back to the door as he ordered the cauldrons around in that familiar, jerky manner of his, pounced on the hesitation.
"You don't see because you don't understand," he said sharply, now decanting something that pleasant-smelling into one of their chipped serving-bowls with a fervour Bella appreciated because it meant a good dinner was not far ahead. "I know things–"
"He stutters because of you!" Antares burst out, slightly lower than normal only, Bella thought wryly, because she was in the room "He's afraid of you, there's nothing–"
"Antares, Severus," Bella could not stop herself from crossing to touch Severus' stiff shoulder, despite how suspicious it might look. "Good evening."
"Bella, thank Merlin," Severus muttered, dousing the fires dancing under the steaming cauldrons with a flat stroke of his wand. "He'll listen to you, at least–"
"Dinner first?" Bella said, interrupting as she saw the mutinous look on her son's face. "We can talk over dinner as easily as we can speak standing, you know, and I am rather hungry…" Severus scowled slightly as she began to open the cupboards and levitate plates and eating things out without asking him, but didn't refute her suggestion.
A few minutes later, they were all tucking into an enormously complicated stew to the accompaniment of the clinking of (slightly less tarnished) silverware and sullen silence from all quarters, and Bella had started feeling less ravenous and more hungry – enough to start the conversation again.
"Goodness knows I'll be awake till late tonight," she murmured, tearing off another piece off the already half-eaten loaf of warm bread she'd never quite stopped envying Severus for being able to make. Her bread was almost always flat or overdone, somehow – the order of the rising charms always seemed to muddle together in her head, ensuring several disastrous loaves and a tentative, sensible comment from Antares at the tender age of four years old that involved him wondering why they couldn't just buy bad bread instead of baking it, the latter option always made her cross and tired her out. "I think I've got five orders to actually finish and fifteen to look over, or something close – it'll be a long night and a long morning, I think, but I should be home well in time for lunch if all goes well."
Severus grunted, and Antares got a very particular look on his face that meant he was going to try to wheedle something out of her – something she might not ordinarily allow him to do. Bella smiled inwardly and waited, dipping her chunk of bread in the rich stew with a sigh, and, soon enough –
"Mum? I was – I was wondering, could I meet my friends in Diagon Alley on Boxing Day? We sort of planned it, but I wasn't sure–"
"Diagon Alley, you say?" Bella said, making her tone a little sterner than she actually felt about the issue, which actually sounded like just the thing to tire him out so – so some very desirable things could happen without his noticing. She stifled a smile before going on. "Not Knockturn?"
"Never," Antares said, looking wonderfully honest in the way that usually signalled he was lying. Severus snorted, and Antares gave him a glare. "They're my friends, Mum, I wouldn't take them there, I know it's dangerous–"
"I really wonder at your choice of reasoning sometimes, boy," Severus said wryly, raising his eyebrows at him. "You seemed perfectly comfortable dragging that poor Zabini boy with you into your little, ah, adventure with that troll barrelling about the castle, didn't you? I even heard you say that you specifically told him to charge into the rather dangerous troll-inhabited room right behind you. Unless you don't remember – your memory seems to be quite poor in such cases, doesn't it?" Antares reddened, and Bella had to stifle a smile – Severus had always been one for going to the heart of the matter.
And, besides, she did have quite a bit to say on that subject herself. "Now, Antares, I won't deny that I was proud to hear of how you handled yourself in that situation," Bella began, pretending to ignore the way Antares blushed and perked up proudly. "But I take serious issue with your going in the first place."
Antares' face fell. "But Mum, we thought Daphne Greengrass was–"
"The Greengrass girl's sister is in your year, is she?" Bella commented. "That was a horrible excuse to set out – everyone knows that family has such bad luck–"
"As much bad luck as the Blacks?" Severus snidely pointed out. Bella grinned, unable to help herself.
"Not quite, but very, very close," she said gravely, ignoring Severus' further snort. "In any case, it was a bad idea – if you hadn't known those spells or performed them properly, I might've been crying helplessly on Severus' shoulder right about now."
"That's likely," Antares said derisively, giving Severus a dark look that Bella knew didn't bode well for his discovery of their relationship. "Fine, mum, I won't go after trolls any more–"
"The casual manner in which he says that seems a little suspect to me, if I may say so," Severus murmured, shifting his feet so they brushed against Bella's under the table in a very familiar manner. "I wouldn't trust him."
"Oh, Mum, please–"
"Fine, you may go," Bella said, lips quirking again at her son's slightly desperate expression, as well as the feel of Severus' shoed foot stroking blatantly up her leg. "But make no mistake – if I catch you nosing about anywhere dangerous, or see you not getting to safety if something happens–"
"I'll be punished," Antares agreed quickly, looking vastly relieved. "I know, Mum, I won't try anything, I promise." Bella huffed a little, holding back a grin at the slightly sly look that had been in his eyes when she'd said 'anywhere dangerous' – at the very least, she knew he'd interpret that loosely, but stay away from the more unsavoury shops down on Knockturn to make sure she didn't technically have any reason to punish him if he and his friends were found there.
"Now, about your lessons with that Quirrel," Severus said firmly, setting down what little cutlery he'd been using, as well as ceasing his rather bold exploration of her under-dress. Antares scowled, but made no retort after a firm look from Bella. She fixed her attention on Severus' narrowed eyes firmly – after all, she'd only heard about the situation from Antares' point of view that morning, and would rather know sooner than later if he was doing something dangerous by being connected to the mysterious teacher. "You might think he is nothing more than a bumbling, stuttering fool with a penchant for defence, but there are things you do not understand, Antares – signs you have no experience in reading." Severus turned slightly towards Bella, the expression on his face earnestly condemning. "Quirinius Quirrel taught Defence the year before last. I admit," he said grudgingly, "that his instruction was up to standard, at that time, but now, he is made nothing more than a stuttering wreck."
"Wouldn't visiting somewhere like Albania do that to anyone else, Professor?" Antares argued fiercely. "I bet you'd be a wreck if you met something really nasty in Albania–"
"The fact that he went to Albania is not the point, boy," Severus snapped. "The important thing is that he changed – the Quirrel I knew as smart, articulate, and perhaps a little stupidly shy is gone. From what I hear from the Headmaster, who quite rightly makes it his business to know these things, his mind is now a sightless maze of fear – a product of Dark experiences, perhaps, but precisely what experiences? No one knows what happened to him, and he, of course, conveniently refuses to tell and pretends that he does not remember–"
"Maybe he's pretending because he's afraid of you, you great git–"
"Antares, don't be rude. Severus makes a good point – anything might have happened to the man. And with no proof and no eyewitnesses, even I am inclined to think that that anything was something rather unsavoury." Antares scowled again, looking cornered.
"But mum, he wouldn't teach me spells like that if there was something wrong with him, would he?"
"Of course he would!" Severus snapped, rolling his eyes at Antares stubborn, yet hopeful expression. "Did all that time rolling in the gutters of Knockturn make you foolish?" Bella shot him a sharp, meaningful look, causing him to steady his tone, but not much more. "Dark wizards seek to pass on the knowledge of their greatness – luring in someone like you with knowledge, forbidden or not, would be ridiculously easy."
"You say that as if he's Dark, Professor," Antares complained. "Mum, you can't believe him – Quirrel isn't. He stutters and barely stands up to me in class, for crying out loud – sometimes, if I decide everyone should learn something and they back me up, he just gives in. Do you see a real Dark wizard doing that?" Bella sighed. It was only natural that Antares would be at least a little attached to Quirrel, for teaching him things he taught to no one else. There was a rather strong part of her son that thrived under that sort of attention – something he almost certainly didn't get from Severus, and probably got from no one else at Hogwarts. For the first time, Bella found herself almost wishing she could be there at Hogwarts to protect him from people that would find it easy to manipulate him like that – as she herself had been manipulated. As so many had been manipulated –
"Antares, I'm sorry," Bella said slowly. "But I am afraid things point rather in the favour of this Quirrel not quite being on the side of the good – you might have been mistaken about those classes, you know. Dark wizards thrive on deception – as a former Dark witch and disciple of such a wizard, I would know," she said, pausing to give Antares a measured look, "and, whether you like it or not, so would Severus." Antares bit his lip, glaring down at the table between them, but Bella continued anyway. "I understand it sounds far-fetched, but you could be in very real danger if you are wrong – you do know that?"
"Yeah," came the sullen answer. "But–"
"No buts," Bella said firmly. "Find a way to refuse those lessons – politely, of course, but I don't want you going to them." Seeing Antares' expression become even more mulish and disobedient, she sighed. "I mean it, Antares – if I hear anything to the contrary from Severus–"
"Fine," Antares said angrily, pushing his chair back from the table as he scooped up his plate and bowl with a scowl. "But I think you're just being paranoid. It's only Quirrel."
"I don't care," Bella said frankly, sighing as she stood. "If we are wrong, you can apologise – he certainly shouldn't mind, what with all the talk he probably stirred up by coming back in such a state." Severus snorted, standing up with his usual grace and beginning to levitate the dinner things into the sink, sending them drifting round Bella and Antares as they made their way out of the kitchen. "Antares?"
"No!" he cried immediately, looking betrayed. "It's not fair that I have to help–"
"Severus made dinner, Antares," Bella sighed, feeling quite, quite tired as she caught sight of Severus' grim, closed-off look. "If I didn't have urgent things to attend to, I'd be helping–"
"Fine," Antares muttered, pushing past her in that slightly rough way that meant there would certainly be argument on probably every matter they'd just discussed at dinner, most likely with a bitter refrain of how Severus was ruining his life at school, just now. Bella sighed again, wondering if it would have been more beneficial to just let him traipse off and let him bother her while she was sewing, but the slightly relaxed look on Severus' face strengthened her resolve like nothing else.
She turned away and headed into the living room and straight for where she'd placed the little jostling group of mannequins, and, as she enlarged them to their proper sizes, wondered what exactly she'd gotten herself into by entering this odd relationship with Severus. She'd known long enough that Antares would always be a wildly difficult child to deal with if she wasn't careful to assert her authority, but had had time to accept it and even learn to miss it at points. But Severus – there was another difficult child become horribly difficult man, only with a seemingly unflappable layer of smooth calm and a fistful of denial to go with each rationalisation. Every personal defence of his was supported by precedent, every barrier by former unpleasantness.
Bella snorted, selecting the first bundle within reach and shaking out the dazzling fabric so she could drape it over the nearest mannequin. She did understand, to an extent, but it didn't mean she felt much like righting all his wrongs or some such nonsense. She'd realised, after the first few visits, just how fair she'd have to appear after a silly argument over how much time she spent on crafting her responses to Antares' letters.
Sighing, Bella turned her thoughts back to the subject at hand, and, after stepping back to observe the strange way the robe fell from the preening mannequin's shoulders, finally began to make some inroads in the long night of last-minute amendments.
Bella groaned, waking up to something very warm and wet in a place she had recently and smugly become accustomed to having such generous things in, on or near. It took a few dazed, highly pleasurable minutes to realise that she was once again in Severus' bed, and a few more (as well as a startling little pinch to her bared nipple) to remember just what had ensured her presence there. By then, she knew exactly what the warm thing was up to and was in no real frame of mind to hurry it up.
Unfortunately, the idiotic owner had different ideas. Bella made a vague, sleepy noise of dissent as a warm, familiar-smelling body wriggled sleepily up hers and as a mouth pressed a warm, damp kiss to her cheek.
"Severus, why did–"
"Got carried away," he interrupted. The fool. Of all the times to be talking, for goodness' sake – "It's early."
"So?" Bella muttered, slowly winding her arms and legs around the man above her, knowing he could be enticed into more than that tantalising little show and not really caring how dangerous or how scarring it could be for Antares to walk in and shriek and run away, and – oh no, was she laughing?
Oh dear.
"Did you get me drunk?" Bella asked quietly, in a minute, not bothering to open her eyes to see the probably derisive or disbelieving look on Severus' face. He shifted on top of her in a manner she decided was guilty, and immediately wanted to punish. "You bad, bad man–"
"Bella, no matter what I – ah – did, you – oh – should leave. It's too – oh, don't–"
"Why?" Bella murmured, her mind only really on her current little exploration. She loved doing this, of a morning, and sometimes almost wished Antares would hurry up and find out so she had a legitimate reason to spend mornings trapping Severus in his bed –
"I'm supposed to – Bella, please – be – be – waking you up, not – oh…" Severus lapsed into a familiar series of groans for the moment, but, as soon as Bella stopped to take breath, somehow found the strength to begin again. "You have work to do this morning, for goodness' sake!"
Bella stopped, sighing. "Oh no – I must have forgotten." She sighed, finally letting go of Severus' rather tortured parts with a frown. She groaned, rubbing carefully at her sleep-laden eyes. "Why I picked such a job is utterly beyond me, at this point – Christmas morning, of all times–"
"I was under the impression," Severus commented wryly, his low voice following her out of bed, "that you didn't have many options."
"Too right," Bella muttered, a little bitterness creeping into her voice as she began to frantically dig about for her robes in the darkened room. "Death Eaters don't make good employee fodder, I recall. Probably why so many are dead or destitute." She finally summoned her wand, knowing a self-applied cleaning charm or two would probably suffice for the particular situation she was entering into – Madame Malkin had made sure, sometimes by dint of threats and force, that every one of her staff would be home for Christmas lunch, even if it meant all of them coming in at five in the morning. She also added a non-nauseous sobering charm, just to be sure her overdeveloped sense of humour didn't carry over into an arena in which it was most certainly unwelcome.
Severus snorted, stretching (enticingly. Damn him) on the bed. "That is, unless the fools were rich to start with, and escaped conviction. They muddle along just fine, then." Bella felt a bitter smile cross her face, and couldn't quite help going over to the bed to plant herself in his lap for one of those ill-advised morning kisses.
"You seem to have done quite well," she whispered, carefully not into his face, wanting to nibble at his lip. "A house of your own–"
Severus chuckled. "A relatively large prison to knock about during the school year–"
"A mistress," Bella added, voice seductively low as she licked that place on his ear that produced such–
"Mmm." –satisfactory results. "Not averse to the title?"
"My mother," Bella said, simply, drawing fingers down Severus' back in a disjointed pattern of crosses, "told me to call things as they are. When I finally started to listen to her advice, she was no longer my mother, but…it helped." She paused, letting a wicked grin take up residence. "Not that I won't bleed you to death over the kitchen table if I ever hear you call me that outside of this room." Severus chuckled, eliciting a hard pinch from Bella to show that she was serious. "Really, I have precedent – one of Rosier's brothers tried to tell me Black women were too mad to be wives, too randy to be nuns, and therefore could only be mistresses."
"So that was why–" Severus paused, narrowing his eyes at her. "Kindly remove your hand from there this instant, Bella." Bella pouted – he'd never been one to be taken in by distraction – but let her hand stay where it was and doing exactly what it had been.
"Why should you have to suffer with me? I don't approve of leaving my patron in such sad deprivation, you know." Severus sighed as she shifted in his lap, needing easier access to a particular location, but soon began to gently ease her off.
"I would highly appreciate such…sentiment at any other time, Bella, but knowing your son, such activity on such a morning usually devoid of sleep for boys his age is extremely–"
"Oh, fine," Bella groused, standing and going over to the door, straightening her robes and hair along the way. "Rest assured, however, that you will be making this up to me in the most stringent manner this evening."
"Oh, I don't think that will be any problem at all, mistress mine," was the sardonic reply as she opened the door. "If there are any owls for me from Hogwarts downstairs, just throw them in the fire, will you?"
"I'll thank you to see to that yourself, you lazy young sot," Bella called back. "The nerve of young men, these days…" Sighing to herself, she crossed the tiny hall, meaning to see if Antares was awake, only to be bombarded by the frantic flight of three obviously disturbed owls that shot through the door she'd just opened. "Antares, what on earth is going on?"
"I'm sorry!" hit Bella almost before a thoroughly excited Antares barrelled into her, smelling of dust and strange magic. "Happy Christmas, Mum! Are you all right?"
"Of course I am," Bella replied, squeezing Antares into a short, heartfelt hug even as she ran a quick diagnostic charm over him. Nothing wrong, thank god – "What would make you worry?" Antares' tight grip on her lessened somewhat, his expression becoming relieved.
"Severus said you were drunk last night, Mum," he said, matter-of-factly, causing Bella's eyes to widen. "I think it was the clothes you were mending, or something – Snape said he'd give you a hangover potion, or–"
"And he did," Bella said firmly, knowing it wouldn't quite do to vacillate about it in front of her son. Severus had said next to nothing about her being drunk in the first place, but the plain fact that she had no headache this morning was quite enough proof that he'd given her something preventative. "What were those owls doing in our bedroom, then?" Antares let go of her then, and began tugging her over to the small heap on his bed, obviously excited.
"Well, I know I'm not supposed to open the windows," he began, tone beseeching, "but I was awake and I heard this pecking, and I thought–"
"Just show me the presents, you little liar," Bella said, rolling her eyes. "I knew very well that you would open your window this morning," she went on, lying blithely as Antares blushed and began to hunt about in the wrapping paper scattered here and there on his bed. It always helped to assert her omniscience with him every so often – "I just thought I'd allow it, it being our first Christmas morning here. But next time–"
"I won't do it again, I promise," Antares said hastily, thrusting a small, very old and very dusty-smelling book into her hands. "See, that's from Tracey Davis–"
"Really?" Bella said, her voice lowering in interest as she perched haphazardly on the edge of the bed. "Is this – this looks like a grimoire, but so small–"
"Oh, it is, Mum – owner's long gone and everything, but Tracey said it could be enlarged, and I don't know any enlarging spells, so I was thinking–"
"Engorgio maxima," Bella said, cutting Antares off with a wry smile. "I do hope," she continued, dropping the now-enormous book into his excited hands, "that you wouldn't seriously consider using magic out of school even if you knew the right spell."
"Oh, Mum, but that restriction's so stupid, especially for who we're living with–"
"I didn't mean," Bella went on, pretending not to hear her son's indignant tone, "that you mightn't use magic here at home with proper precautions being taken. Only not without them, Antares." Looking as abashed as he could while excitedly beginning to devour the first page of the ancient-looking book, Antares nodded. "Now, I'd love to stay, but I should definitely be off to work. Behave yourself, understand?"
"Yes mum," Antares said automatically, his eyes now only for the open book. But immediately Bella began to shift and prepare to leave, he looked up, eyes anxious. "Are you really coming back at lunch?"
"Luckily, yes," Bella replied, standing with a slight yawn. "Won't be anything like last year, don't worry – Malkin's isn't a pub, she can close the shop halfway through the day without anyone getting upset." Antares nodded slowly, and she could feel his eyes following her as she left, only pausing to aim her wand amusedly in the direction of the still-open window and charm it shut. After that, it was only a matter of minutes before Bella had snagged a bottle of Butterbeer from the pantry and stuffed some fairly unhealthy biscuits into one of those strange transparent Muggle bags she'd never been able to do without, then corralled the sleepy mannequins and bundles of amended robes and Apparated to work in a thoroughly determined frame of mind. Madam Malkin might have promised to try her level best to let them go home early, but a big part of that would have to be their own frantic effort, and Bella intended to supply every morsel of effort she could muster, just this once.
Hours later, Bella staggered out of the Floo, feeling as if she'd just run a long, extremely pointless and horribly tiring race. One last-minute order had had to be torn down and reconstructed on the spot, and, Bella being the most experienced sewer, the task had fallen to her. Hearing voices nearby in the kitchen, Bella bit back a fervent curse on the Smith family – never known anyone to be so fucking fixated on seams being the exact colour of primroses that they just have to have the whole bloody garment remade –
"You're just in time, Bella," Severus said, as she moved slowly into the kitchen. "I was about to resort to desperate measures to stop your son from opening your presents…are you well?" With Antares, there was none of that distance – he rose from his seat at the already set kitchen table and half-guided, half-forced Bella into one opposite an empty plate. "How was work?"
"Horribly exhausting," Bella said, gently moving aside the plate and cutlery in front of her so she could rest her head for a few moments. "All I can say right now is that the entire Smith family should be shot, down to the children – their disregard for others is implanted at birth, I swear…" Sighing, Bella allowed herself to lay her head down upon her arms. "I'd like a drink, if anyone wouldn't mind fetching one. I certainly mind."
Something heavenly and cool nudged at the side of her arm. "Here, mum. Butterbeer's okay, right?"
"I could drink rat piss right now, if it was cold and in a glass," Bella mumbled, rising slightly so she could reach out and actually drink the miraculously cold drink nearby. Severus rustled about nearby, and the sound of him opening his old oven stirred Bella into action. "I don't suppose there's anything to eat about this place–"
"'Course there is," Antares said impatiently. "Or there will be, if that chicken's done–"
"It seems to be," Severus added, sounding oddly cautious. Bella would have tried to make more of an effort to put him at his ease again – probably wasn't often that he heard his supposed lover talking about rat piss with her son – but she simply couldn't be bothered. "Boy, be useful and help serve those potatoes instead of poking about in your mother's presents, for goodness' sake–"
"She likes me opening them," Antares argued, rustling and ripping at something nearby. "Don't you, mum?"
"If I hear that pitiful excuse again–"
"Severus, he's telling the truth," Bella said, interrupting what was most likely the beginning of an annoyed rant. "Really – he opens and reads everything to me all the time on days like this." Severus grunted and moved something about with a great deal more clashing than it probably needed, and Bella didn't need to sit up slightly and move her plate back into place to know that Antares was smirking over the small pile of neatly wrapped things before him that he was now tearing into.
Men. But, as Antares demonstrated by quickly rising to refill her now-empty glass, there was a reason to have them around, sometimes.
"There's a card from old Maggie, and some kind of packet of sewing-things," Antares began, as Severus began to (crossly) levitate steaming serving-dishes into their places on the table. "And I think that's got robes from the people at Madame Malkin's in it – there's a card too, if you're interested…? No. Well, from the weird signatures inside it, I think everyone you work with might've signed it, so you'll have to remember to thank them tomorrow. Oh, and Kreacher sent something, but Snape took it–"
"Professor Snape, darling," Bella chided, setting down the newly empty glass. "And Severus, I know the note's probably frightfully unhygienic in some way, but I do need to read it. As mad as that elf is, he does have guardianship over my aunt's old house in lieu of Sirius, so it'll likely be important."
"You mean the Ministry couldn't take possession of the house?" Severus said, looking only a little mollified as he sat down just opposite her, sparing only a glare for the still-smirking Antares.
Bella snorted. "They couldn't get past the wards, if I remember rightly. So they foisted it off on Sirius, which was the next best thing. If he dies in Azkaban, they might get it, if Narcissa's spawn is not of age by then. Then again, blood-bonding does pass muster with the Black will, so even Antares here has a chance at the house." Antares perked up noticeably, and, several minutes after they finally began to eat the small feast Severus grudgingly admitted to planning, went on to ask further about it.
"I'm eligible for Sirius Black's fortune? Even without a birth date?"
"Oh, you're registered," Bella said, giving him a conspirational wink. "You were evidently born on May the 15th, I believe, well before that little brat of the Malfoys. Even if it doesn't work, I intend to give my sister a well-earned fit during the dispute settlement." At that, Severus finally smiled, and the general mood was much lighter after that.
Much later on, after working her way determinedly through the (rather delicious) meal and shamelessly ganging up to tease either Antares or Severus about their Christmas presents (for some reason, a large tin of very fine chocolate was among Severus' surprisingly large Christmas stash, and after a glass or two of strong wine, Bella found it even more hilarious), Bella flopped into the threadbare couch nearest the fire and decided not to move for a large part of the evening. After a silly whispered argument or two as to who was disturbing her more, Antares and Severus finally retired to the kitchen and closed the door on their almost amusingly tense mutual study of the old Davis grimoire, and Bella dozed off to the counterpoint of a comfortably crackling fire and low, yet discernible voices from behind the kitchen door.
Bella woke up what felt like hours later to the feel of a hand squeezing determinedly in a very inappropriate place, and, stifling her exclamation, tried to strike back with a hopefully well-timed slap in the face. A few minutes later, after being summarily wrestled to the floor and groped in all sorts of delightfully unsavoury places while groping in return, Bella broke off what was beginning to be a rather involved kiss.
"Bella–"
"Oh, don't you dare complain," she scolded, wriggling out of Severus' grasping arms. "You were perfectly happy to do the same thing this morning, if you'll condescend to remember."
Severus groaned, sitting up with a mulish expression on his face. "Bella, it's far too late for Antares to be up–"
"If I know anything about Antares, he would be," was her firm reply as she regained the comfort of the couch. "He is most contrary on that kind of thing, I promise you." Severus joined her, sighing, then commenced a rather sneaky attack on her robes, which were still askew. Rolling her eyes, Bella slapped at his encroaching hands. "Did you not hear a word I just said?"
Severus snorted. "Even if he's awake–"
"No. Not until we're behind a locked door, understand? I'm in no mood to go spoiling his perception of this holiday for him, all right?" Severus huffed and pinked a little, but soon fell silent. Bella, satisfied, decided she would relent. Eventually. "Not that this holiday hasn't been exciting enough for him already, I think."
"Hmm?"
"You mean you didn't notice the little present mystery?" Paused in the attempt to sneak an arm around her, Severus only shook his head in dissent rather absently. "Well, I suppose I can hardly blame you – you weren't early enough to see the owls that little idiot let in this morning."
"Owls? I don't–"
"Very early in the morning, when you were trying to waken me?" Bella asked pointedly, delighting in Severus' slight blush at the memory. "Oh yes, that awakening – very pleasant it was, too, being awakened rolling in my own piss on the floor–"
"Bella, for the last time, I only told Antares that–"
"By now, you should know how imaginative he is," Bella continued, pressing the point in a slightly pained tone. "You and your bloody understatement – he actually asked after my health this morning, as if I'd gone through ten bottles of Firewhiskey and not one–"
"You are doing this on purpose, aren't you?" Severus accused, retracting his arm slightly. When Bella smiled wickedly in response, he huffed again and replaced it pointedly. "Just get on with the thing about the owls, if you please."
"I do please," Bella said, just to annoy him, before going on. "Well anyway there were three owls in his room this morning when I went in to check on him, and it was really quite obvious he'd opened his own window to them instead of leaving them to find the post portal down below."
"That little sod. I specifically told him–"
"Severus, there's only about a week left of his holiday. I assured him I would punish him, and that is that, at least for now. Please?" After a pleading look and a slight inching in his direction, Severus seemed to relent, and Bella went on expounding her pet theory of the moment. "So, three owls. But, from what he said at lunch, there were only two – the present from that Davis girl (which I thought was really rather generous) and Quidditch Through The Ages from the Zabini boy, as well as a few letters and cards from other acquaintances in his year. Three owls do not make sense, frankly – the letters all seemed to be from different people, if I heard him right, and for that, there would need to have been at least five owls fleeing his bedroom this morning." Taking a breath, Bella rearranged herself in a position that was quite a bit closer to Severus than before. "What do you think?"
"What I think about his presents is irrelevant, Bella," Severus said, his tone turned rather mocking, "what I think about your woeful disregard for your talent, however–"
"Disregard of talent?" Bella asked, wrinkling her brow. "I actually think I was quite astute in determining all that, thank you–"
"Too astute, I think," Severus replied, shooting her a sharp little smile, "Enough that you forgot the point where you used Legilimency to find out the answer and consequently stopped your brain from needing that rather torturous little process to find out the machinations of an eleven-year-old."
"Oh, fuck you, Severus," Bella said, rolling her eyes. "Not everyone has your blatant disregard for rules–"
"And isn't that the hearth calling the stove incendiary," Severus said, smirking at her in his most irritating manner.
"Oh, shut up," Bella muttered. "He is my son, you know – if that doesn't count for some sort of nominal privacy–"
"Do you even use Legilimency any more, Bella?" Severus demanded wryly. "No? Occlumency, then…?"
"Of course." Bella rolled her eyes. "Even if Legilimency is sanctioned by the Ministry, that's hardly enough to keep die-hards like you practicing it on a poor, unsuspecting witch like me, is it?"
Severus sighed, shaking his head in an obvious parody of disappointment. "I had no idea you subscribed to the sort of tripe that says reading minds is illegal, I really didn't–"
"Oh god, not this argument again–"
"You are in my home," Severus insisted, drawing close enough that his breath warmed her neck, "and therefore, must listen to every of my opinions–"
"And some would call my unmarried cohabitation with you tantamount evidence that I must be your mistress, Severus," Bella shot back, biting back a smile at his slightly crestfallen look. "If you wish to find me on the couch again, there will be no more mention of Legilimency and my son's name in the same conversation, do you understand?"
"You really are a spoilsport for former adherent to such a Dark, deviant movement," Severus grumbled loudly. Of course, his sentiment, though he seemed to think it bore repeating again and again throughout the entire evening, never came close to actually defying her half-joking mandate. Later on, when Bella looked back on it, she would cringe a little at the thought of his almost unhealthy desire to let nothing spoil their…relationship, but for now, all she did was smile smugly at him and, after locking the doors behind them, protecting themselves with the necessary contraceptive Charms (a habit that would probably never leave her, now that all was said and done) and concocting a suitable story to feed Antares the following morning, drag him contentedly into his bed.
A/N: No idea why it took so damned long for this to get out, but it's here. I apologise with leaving you with a sort of implicit cliff-hanger, but I really thought it was best that way, leaving you all to fill in the blanks of the rest of our characters' holiday. The next chapter should pick up (just so you know) from the end of the holiday. Oh, and the contest on my LJ is, like, totally over in a day or so after the posting of this chapter, as I've practically handed you the most obvious hints on a platter. Unless everyone still doesn't get it, I'll just flat out announce the winner/the actual sort-of-spoiler, and to the victor will go the spoils. Or not.
Oh, and sorry about any formatting/spelling issues – this is pretty much straight from my laptop at 2:30 AM, so plz to be forgiving.
