Chapter 14

I have given you the
opportunity to
choose so choose
whether to die on
my chest or on the
pages of my poetry.

- Nizar Qabbani

Rose's wand was in her hand before she even had time to think what she was doing. Pettigrew seemed to shrink even as Margot stepped in front of him. The woman didn't even draw her own wand, she just stared Rose down with her ashen eyes. Margot Dolohov was not a particularly tall woman—in fact, in her pumps, Rose towered over her—but she possessed the kind of aura that left one in no doubt as to who was the predator and who was the prey. Though she wasn't familiar with it at the time, Rose would later come to realize that it was the aura of a murderer—a murderer who revels in what they have done and is eager to kill again.

"Run along now Peter," Margot said softly, her eyes never straying. Rose didn't lower her wand, but neither did she cast any spells. She watched, angrily, while Peter transformed into a rat and scurried away.

"Why was he here," Rose asked, finally lowering her wand and trying for a tone of forced politeness.

"You needn't worry about that, Roselin. Now be a good girl, and go inside," she replied in a somewhat mocking tone. Rose held her gaze for a long moment, debating the consequences of pressing the woman for answers.

Very slowly, Rose nodded, pocketed her wand, and walked towards the manor. Her mind was whirling as she thought over what she had just seen. Had Peter yet made contact with the Dark Lord? Dumbledore had seemed to think that was where he was going the night he had escaped from the Hogwarts grounds. And if he had, then what was he doing back, and why was he talking to Margot? Had she intercepted him on the way to try to make contact with her father? The whole situation made her incredibly uneasy.

The sudden shift in atmosphere was shocking as she entered the manor which was so full of joviality. She tried to put on a warm smile for those who greeted her, but couldn't help the dark mood she was in. Moving across the room to a table where Stefan, Mari, and Parker sat, Rose readily accepted the drink that was offered to her. Mari was dressed all in white and had done her makeup to cause her to look almost ghostly. Parker on the other hand wore somber and dated wizard's robes and his makeup had been applied so that he seemed like a corpse. Rose quickly made the connection between their costumes and the story of The Three Brothers. She thought it was a bit morbid for them to dress as the second brother and his dead love, but it was Halloween after all.

"Nice costume," Rose said to her friend, who smiled appreciatively at the compliment.

"You too. Ugh. I wish I had your legs," Mari complained good naturedly.

"You wouldn't if you had them, trust me," Rose replied, glancing over at Stefan. Her husband was looking better than he had in awhile having put extra effort into his appearance. He was dressed as some sort of medieval wizard and looked rather dashing in his doublet and cape. He gave her a small smile when she looked at him.

"Your mother was asking after you," he said, pointing across the hall. Rose nodded, quickly downed the rest of her glass, and looked over to where he was pointing. She thought she could make out two fair-haired people from across the ballroom.

'Best to get this over with,' Rose thought, excusing herself. Making her way carefully through the throng of dancers, she couldn't help smirking when she saw her father's long emerald green robes embroidered with a silver "S" at the breast. Of course her father had dressed as Salazar Slytherin. Her mother on the other hand in her long blue gown with a dainty tiara on her head was obviously meant to pass for Rowena Ravenclaw.

'Well, they couldn't both be Slytherin,' Rose mused.

Narcissa's eyes went misty when she saw her daughter, and the pair embraced. Glancing up at her father, she saw his jaw clench, and he gave her a firm nod. Rose nodded back, and she knew all was well between them. It took a moment for Lucius to look over her costume before he raised his eyes at her curiously.

"What are you dressed as, Roselin," he asked. Rose flushed and opened her mouth.

"I believe it's Little Red Riding Hood," a voice across from her said. Rose's veins felt icy at the familiar tone; she hadn't noticed that Cyrus Smythe was part of their group, being so focused on her parents. Glancing in his direction, he smiled at her, revealing fanged canines—Cyrus had come dressed as a vampire.

"I'm not familiar with that story," Lucius said with a frown.

"It's quite famous among muggles. My second wife liked to read them to our sons," he explained and laughed when Lucius wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Come now Lucius, what would you have her come dressed as instead? A hag? A banshee? She looks much more fetching this way. Don't you agree Severus?"

Rose's discomfort increased tenfold immediately. She had missed Severus Snape for the same reason she had not initially noticed Cyrus and also because he was dressed in his normal dark robes that blended into the shadows with uncanny ease. It was to her complete lack of surprise that he had decided not to wear a costume tonight. If Severus made any sound in response to Cyrus, Rose did not hear it. The pair just stared at one another for a moment before Rose looked away.

"Well, what is the night for if not to dance with beautiful young ladies," Cyrus said magnanimously, offering his hand to Rose. Not able to think of a way to get out of accepting the dance in front of her parents, Rose hesitantly allowed Cyrus to lead her onto the dance floor. Her eyes briefly met Snape's again, and she was sure he saw the panic in her expression, but he was quickly lost from view at the press of bodies.

'One dance,' Rose thought to herself, clenching her jaw as his hand wrapped low around her waist and he drew her close to his own body. Rose made it a point to look over his shoulder rather than into his face.

"Now, now, you aren't upset with me, are you Rosie?" He asked, and she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Don't call me that," she snapped back immediately. She felt her cheeks flush at her sudden outburst. She didn't want to hand him ammunition to use against her. Glancing up, she gave him a tense smile. "It was my childhood nickname."

"My mistake," he said genially, squeezing the hand that was laid in his own.

"I think I should go find Stefan," Rose said, when she felt his hand on her waist straying lower.

"But our dance has only just started," he protested when she tried to draw back. His smile became steely when she looked up at him, and Rose was reminded that this was a very powerful and influential man. She bit her lip, trying to decide between the urge to avoid offending him and the urge to slap him.

"Is this how you dance with young ladies, Smythe, or is it how you harass them," Severus' velvety voice interjected. The pair froze, and Cyrus' mouth turned down in a distasteful frown. Rose realized her heart was beating very fast as she gazed into Snape's dark eyes.

"I think you'll find it's considered rude to interrupt a couple in the middle of a dance," Cyrus said coolly. "But you've never been one for manners, have you, traitor?"

"You've had too much to drink, Smythe," Severus replied with a mocking sneer. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that was impossible to miss. Rose could feel the tension in Cyrus' body.

"Perhaps you're right," he agreed after a long silence, clearly deciding that a fight with Severus Snape was not worth the effort. "Until next time Roselin."

Dropping her hand, he quickly made his way through the crowd of revelers and out of sight. Rose couldn't help the shudder that ran through her body at finally being free again. Turning back, she saw that Snape was already moving away from her. Rose chased after him, catching his sleeve and yanking on it to make him stop and look at her. Turning back, he sneered at her, his lips already parted to utter some scathing remark.

"I've seen Peter Pettigrew," Rose said instantly. Snape's mouth snapped shut, and his dark eyes glanced quickly around them to see if anyone had overheard. She stumbled when he pulled her suddenly into his arms but caught her footing quickly while they moved through familiar dance steps.

"When," he murmured simply into her ear, keeping her body tight against his so they could talk as quietly as possible.

"On my way inside, not an hour ago," she replied, her chin on his shoulder and cheek brushing against his neck. She felt his fingers twitch on her waist—whether in response to her words or to her breath on his neck neither could say.

"What was he doing?"

"Talking to Margot Dolohov. I don't know what about. She sent him away and told me to go inside," Rose replied. Severus was silent for a long moment while he led her through a series of steps. Rose tried to focus on her fear rather than the way it felt to sway in time to the music with his body so close to her own.

"What does it mean," Rose asked, desperate to break the silence.

"It means we've put off your occlumency lessons too long," he said at last, and Rose stiffened at this. She had been avoiding reaching out to him all summer despite Dumbledore's instructions. It seemed she hadn't been the only one.

"I know how to use occlumency," Rose protested weakly. Severus snorted derisively at this. She glared at him.

"I did not think you were one to confuse knowledge with true mastery," he drawled.

Rose's eyes narrowed in irritation.

"And I suppose you possess this true mastery," she snapped irritably.

Severus smirked at her.

"Yes."