A Slytherin's Trust
Chapter 2
Take Your Pick
Silence noun
A refusal, failure or inability to speak and express oneself
I am not familiar with the ways of an arranged marriage, as they had not survived past the short reign of Voldemort's evil. Though there are rumors that purebloods are still being 'bred' through arranged marriages, it is unlikely that I will ever chance upon one again. I find this slightly disturbing. How could a custom I had thought to be so old and unbreakable as a 17 year old, disappear within the space of only a few decades?
Maybe if I had been born later, I would never have encountered my misfortune, I, along with the rest of the wizarding world, may, perhaps, have been spared and none of this would have happened. But as I gaze into the book in my hands, I know that it has happened and that no amount of wishing will bring a change in the way my past has unfolded—entwining itself so intricately within his—for I have already wished it a thousand times over.
S
August 7, 1974My thoughts are echoing with my verdict, and I feel as if I have actually been sentenced to a lifetime in jail. Though I did not know that my fiancé was to effectively ruin my—and many others including his own—life, I had felt from the moment I had laid eyes on him that he was a man of misfortune. Yet even if fate had blessed me with a short moment of sight into our future together, what would I be able to do? There was nothing I could say or do short of killing myself that would spare me from this marriage. And at the age of sixteen I was far from being suicidal; at least for the time being.
My gaze immediately snapped over to him, almost accusing, as if it were his fault that we were to be married. I found myself all the more angrier when he did not respond to my glare, nor even recognize I was looking at him. It would have been impossible to not see me from such close range and the glare I was sending could have frozen fire. It was obvious, he was ignoring me.
Or maybe my mind was running away with me. If he had been half as shocked as I when he had heard the news than he would most probably not notice the ugly looks I was sending him. I doubt I would have noticed when I was told; all I remember from that night was the soft cotton of my pillow and the burning salt of my tears.
Though, if he was really shocked, he showed no evidence of that upon his face. He was placidly calm, so much that I suspected once again that he had planned the whole thing; knew of this all the time and was out to ruin me for some insane and mysterious reason. I was foolish and immature, a trait that would betray me many times over the next few years.
His gaze unexpectedly latched onto mine and I was instantly ashamed at my behavior. I wished I had not sent such silly looks at him and I looked away. I could feel his eyes on me for several moments more before the tension was released. He glanced back at the semi-circle of adults surrounding us and I exhaled.
"Married?" I asked quietly. The information smashing into me, for the second time in two days, like a high speed train. My voice was low and I could feel the acid sliding from my lips. It was a deliberate action of disrespect. Mother glanced sharply up at me.
Her expression were instantly angry. I expected to be punished tonight, the emotion pulsing through me was too much to silence; why not let a few rude tones slip by here and there? In a sense, I feel pity for my mother. She obviously had not anticipated my apparent disrespect in front of such a pure blooded family. Maybe she had hoped I would remain silent.
Afterall, silence is a woman's trade. If only it were a trait I was accomplished in. Many times mother has been forced to slap me because I can not keep my mouth shut. She tells me over and over again that I must be silent, "Women do not have opinions, women do not make important decisions, women never share their thoughts, and women never defy, argue, or stand against men." But why, I will ask, why can women not express their point of view, or be equal next to men, why must women stand in second place while men always win the gold, why is the most ill-minded man's brain worth more than the brightest witch? And through her scowl she will give me the answer I knew before it came to be. Somehow the answer has become as normal as a bird flying and a fish swimming. And Mother will reply, "Because women do not have opinions, we are silent, we live only to serve our husband as best we can."
As I have been trained in this philosophy, I now know that I am expected—no—forced into a silent, acceptable young woman who never disagrees with a male of any class—mudbloods excluding. But it seems so wrong, why are women always so weak?
Looking back I count my stubbornness as one of the few meager blessings I received. As they were far and few it seems ironic that my ignorance should come in the form of a blessing and a curse. Perhaps there were a few moments where someone was watching over me.
"Yes," Mother said sternly, all trace of the jovial—but fake—smile she plastered on gone," You are to be married almost a year from today."
My face remained placid as my thoughts raged inside of me. A year? Though this was not new news, I could not help the torrent of despair washing over me again. I was to be married as soon as I left Hogwarts? No chance to live my life the way I had hoped to? No chance of exploring the world? This was what I had been working so hard my whole life for? All those tedious hours, dragging long into the night, were for naught? The knowledge I have learned would be useless; the only thing I would serve as, in his manor, was his personal servant and carrier of an heir.
I should have expected this years ago, it is a tradition afterall, but foolishness and ignorance has blinded me. I did not want to see this ominous end but I knew it was there all the same. Perhaps, I had hoped that if my grades were good enough, I might have been spared from this fate—a silly thought—but it seems that nothing, excluding my running away and joining a nunnery, could possibly save me.
Something was slowly trickling into my stomach, coiling and uncoiling harshly—twisting around my stomach and compressing my organs to the point of pain. A mixture of emotions bubbled and twisted in my stomach. Yet, a rubbery numbness was slipping disgustedly down my arms. My mind was filling with feelings resembling anger, self-pity, and a strange longing to run from this place and never look back. Perhaps if I had listened to the third suggestion, I might have avoided this all entirely but, reality is cruel and though the thought is taunting me, it is transparent. Running away would have solved nothing.
And then, there would be no story to tell. No diary of great importance to read and no man to tear my heart to pieces and then tape it back together. But, still, I lie here broken—shattered—and it seems that not even time—nature's greatest medicine—can bring me back together.
"A year," Mr. Malfoy began," is not a very long time. It may seem like ages from now"—I did not agree—" but really the time will fly by. I therefore advise you to spend your days wisely, get to know each other a bit before the big day or you'll end up like me and my wife; we fought for almost half a year before we finally fell in love,"
He laughed coldly. I doubted strongly that they were truly in love. True love was not found in arranged marriages. It was not made after a marriage because of nescessity but experienced before marriage. It was enjoyed and savored to the fullest extent not thrust upon you. True love was what I had hoped for ever since I was a child but my vision was cloudy when I had made that wish; for when has a pureblood ever been 'true'? And a pureblood is the only type of man I will be allowed to marry.
Mrs. Malfoy glared at her husband before interrupting," What he means to say is that we are expecting an heir soon and it will be easier if you know each other a little better than now."
I shuddered. A child? With this man? I knew that it was a condition I would be forced into with this marriage but the truth of it all had only just slammed into me. I barely knew him now and doubt coursed through my body at the thought that I would know him any better at the end of the year. It was just like my mother to shove me in a mess like this and expect me to immediately become intimate friends with this man. I could barely make friends as it was.
"We've arranged for you both to share an attached room at Hogwarts. This should make it easier for you to get to know each other," Mr. Malfoy smirked suggestively, bringing a grimace to my features.
"Oh Abraxas, you're upsetting the poor girl!" Tatiana, Mrs. Malfoy, laughed teasingly.
He chuckled," But dear, it's going to happen sometime, I expect an heir soon after they're married. Besides, he's such a handsome boy and Rose is so beautiful; it'll be a miracle if they can resist for more than a month,"
I almost choked on my own saliva. My gaze immediately snapped to my fiance's but he seemed unperturbed as always by this new bit of information. I, on the other hand, could feel my stomach clenching to the size of a golfball.
Tatiana laughed at his comment," Do you remember when we were told of the arranged marriage?" he smiled widely as she spoke," We didn't even last a week!"
"Yes," he smirked," I remember quite well. But who was I to resist such a gorgeous witch?"
I recalled Mr. Malfoy's previous comment about how they hadn't fallen in love until six months after their marriage. So they had been engaging in sexual contact before that? The idea made me shudder, I couldn't imagine being so vulnerable in front of someone I barely knew. Deeply loving someone and trusting them enough to give them your innocence was a far cry from the Malfoy's opinion on the subject. Had Severus already lost his virginity? I hoped in vain that my fiancé would not force me into non-concensual sex but I had a terrible feeling that he didn't give a damn about my silly desires of losing my virginity to a man I loved and trusted.
Mrs. Malfoy blushed," What about you, Penelope?" she asked.
My mother glanced up, her smile faltering slightly," I had Rosie out of wedlock."
Tatiana smiled as if it was something to be proud of," Before Dan left," Mrs. Malfoy edited. Mother forced a laugh though it was eminent she did not find this funny in the slightest. I could see her eyes ice over, she was always very sensitive about discussing Father since he left us when I was only a baby; a week before their marriage. Mother was crushed and wouldn't leave her room for a month.
I never knew him so I felt no emotion towards him. He was just like any other man, they were all the same. Spineless selfish jerks. There seemed to be no true gentlemen left. They would cheat on you and, as their wife, it was only expected for who would expect a man to stay content with only one woman?
I caught a few words from the adult's conversation and instantly felt revolted when I realized they were still discussing their sex lives. I tuned them out again.
My eyes wandered traitorously over to my fiancé. I guess I was lucky. He wasn't ugly, wasn't gorgeous of course, but he wasn't terrible looking. In fact, with a little bit of work, he might look quite handsome.
He had a sharp jaw and thin eyebrows, exaggerating every emotion, though he shared nothing of what he felt. He seemed to be slender, not conditioned, but thin and almost unhealthy looking. He was very pale too, as if he had not seen the sun for years. And his nose was slightly hook shaped, rising upward a bit on the ridge. Although I thought that it suited his dignified appearance. His features were prominent and sharp giving him a bony look but always emotionless. Even his eyes were grey orbs of steel, a closed door. But they were entrancing all the same and I found myself staring at them for a while, until he gazed penetratingly over at me and I shrunk into myself in humiliation.
He really was quite handsome, the only true fault I could find with him was that his hair was oily and shiny as if he didn't wash it very often though I suppose that such a trivial thing is easily fixable.
I suppose we were expected to talk whilst our parents laughed and reminisced of old times but it was evident from the very beginning that he would not be talking to me and I was not going to talk to him. My opinion wasn't worth anything and I dared not talk first—whether I was influenced by my Mother's strict manners or I was just too intimidated to begin a conversation is a mystery I have long forgotten the answer to.
So we stood and watched, pretending to be even slightly interested in our parent's conversation though my mind wandered to other places.
I wondered what life at Hogwarts would be like, sharing a room with this man. Were we really supposed to have sex before we were married as—most likely—both our parents had done? Why was so much expected of me at such a young age?
My mother-in-law-to-be's voice crashed into my thoughts," What are you two still standing here for?" she laughed as if she had just noticed us," Go over there and get to know each other. Just don't get too carried away."
I felt an urge to roll my eyes at the idea, as I would have done in a dream but never in real life. A small wave of giggles rolled through the trio but we stayed silent. I, personally, did not find the idea of us engaging in such an act, on only our first meeting, as appealing as our parents thought.
I turned around and was surprised to see that he had already laid himself across the couch at the opposite side of the room. I followed briskly over to him and sunk into a flanking armchair, my eyes trailing awkwardly around the room, lingering on the blazing fire in front of them for a moment.
A flicker of movement caught my attention and I realized that Severus had indulged in a book. I sighed wistfully, wishing I had brought one of my own. I watched him read for a few minutes and was surprised to find that he was actually a quick reader. I don't know why it surprised me so much but I didn't expect a boy with such a large fortune to spend his time buried in books. A twinge of curiosity arose in me.
A well-timed glare from Mother made me decide to interrupt his privacy and bombard him with 'getting acquainted' questions. I doubted he would be pleased but I feared Mother would be angrier if I did not obey her.
"My name is Rose Montregal," I said suddenly.
He didn't look up. I was sure he had heard me. I didn't dare repeat myself and sound rude so I waited patiently for an answer. It never came.
I cleared my throat awkwardly, not used to having to start a conversation with someone. It was not my custom to go out of my way to talk to someone, especially a boy. Silence was a woman's trade.
"I don't quite remember what your name was," I hinted hopefully, knowing full well that he had never told me what his name was as he had never spoken a single word to me. I already knew his name—mother had forced me to repeat it hundreds of times before we arrived. She had assured me that he would not take having to repeat his name kindly.
"Severus Snape," he answered curtly, never looking up from his book.
I furrowed my eyebrows at his choice of last names. Was he not a Malfoy? I decided against indulging further into the subject but eyed the book Severus was reading hungrily.
"What are you reading?" I asked curiously, part of me actually wanting to know instead of trying to make random conversation.
He lifted the book slightly in response so that I could read the title. Dark Magic of the Ages. I forced myself to remain emotionless so that I would not display my apparent distaste. I was not fond of Dark Arts. Was Severus training to become a Death Eater? Though I had been invited to become one of the Death Eater's personal whores, I had been saved from the fate when my father left us, mother had told them she couldn't handle the stress.
"Interesting," I said quietly.
I realized that I would have to be the sole supporter of all conversation or we would sit in silence 'till our parents were ready to leave. I sincerely doubted that Mother would be happy if she heard about that.
"You are a seventh year, right?" I asked timidly.
He nodded. I stared at him blankly for a moment, waiting for him to return the question. He didn't.
"So am I," I forced a smile. I was running out of ideas for conversation. Why was it so hard to talk to him? Besides the fact that he was a complete stranger and obviously disliked my company (and most probably my existence all together), he was still my fiancé and a human being nonetheless. Why should he be so hard to talk to? He wasn't really that intimidating.
"You know Lucius, right?" I asked, prancing on something we held in common, though I had only seen Lucius walking in the hallways and flirting with the prettier girls of my age. But I remembered seeing Lucius and Severus talking a bit between classes.
He glanced at me as if I was completely insane," What do you think?" he growled.
For a second I was confused. It was a reasonable question to ask, had I embarrassed or insulted him somehow? The confusion must have shown on my face for Severus sighed and looked pointedly at Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.
It hit me.
Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy.
I couldn't have felt stupider. I visibly shrunk into my chair under his sarcastic glare and my cheeks flushed brightly. He looked back to his book, most likely thinking he was engaged to one of the most ill-witted girls of his age.
I certainly wasn't of course, in fact I was very clever, if not the smartest in my year—which made it even more embarrassing. I don't know why I hadn't associated the fact that Severus lived with the Malfoys meant that he also lived with Lucius so they obviously knew each other. Most likely, they were very close—Lucius had always been quite brotherly towards Severus but I had never really paid attention to it before.
Once again, I yearned for a book so that I may too read into a distant reality and ignore the new "crisis" sitting in the couch across from me. And so that I may hide my embarrassment behind the cover of a book but I had no such book and summoning one from home was difficult to do from so far away besides being utterly rude.
Though he doesn't seem to care about manners, I thought disdainfully, eyeing Severus critically.
Well, I couldn't just sit here awkwardly, wishing I was ten miles away. I sighed quietly and racked my brain for something else we could converse upon that might last more than one abrupt answer.
"Do you like to read?" I asked, knowing I would receive the same raised eyebrow I had when I asked him about Lucius Malfoy. I had set myself up purposefully, knowing he would think I was insane again but only because I hoped that I might be able to bring out a sentence or two on a subject I thrived upon.
He, as predicted, rose a distinguished eyebrow then eyed the book in his hands as if it were answer enough—which it was—before going back to his reading. I quickly picked up on the subject.
"I love to read," I mentioned casually, part of me wondering if he would be courteous enough to summon me a book from his library. His reaction was quite the opposite if it could be called a reaction at all.
Because he gave no reaction at all, not even a flicker of his eyes in my direction. I wondered if he had heard me. Unless he was engulfed in his book so deep that he could not be distracted, it was impossible for him to have not heard me. I sincerely doubted it was the former.
My mind lingered on the idea of repeating myself to see if he would react. I glanced warily at the adults at the other end of the room, it was quite obvious that they had had too much to drink. I decided to risk it.
"I said, I love to read," I tried to force him into looking at me with my eyes but he stayed persistent and showed no recognition that I was even there.
A wicked curiosity was biting at me and I succumbed quickly to it's will. Afterall, Mother wouldn't have enough sense to hit me tonight, not with all the alcohol she was consuming.
I cleared my throat loudly and spoke even louder," I love to read," I repeated yet again.
There was a reaction.
"Are you mentally ill, woman?" he snapped, annoyance engraved into every feature. His eyes flashed dangerously.
The reality of what I had done was a slap in the face and I found myself astonished at the rudeness I had just exhibited. Pray to Rowenna he didn't mention this to Mother.
Silence was my reply.
Wrong answer.
He slapped his book down on the couch beside him and leaned over towards me," I asked you a question," he hissed," Answer it,"
My mind was spinning for an answer that would not suggest any hint of emotion besides repent. I was not quick enough, I couldn't quite seem to think with those eyes piercing into me.
"What is wrong with you?" he snarled and paused," Or am I engaged to a brainless wench?" I recoiled ever so slightly and his sneer grew maliciously at my reaction.
"I'm sorry," I answered lamely, the only answer I could think of to calm Severus down. I meant to continue but he cut me off before I could open my mouth again.
"I'm sorry what?" he sneered," You're sorry you're an unintelligent whore?"
I felt some emotion in my chest straining to be set free—to lash out at his rude comments but I knew this would be regular treatment from a man of this family. It was regular treatment from mother, why should I have expected better? Besides, in the midst of my fury, there was defeat—because he was right. That's what all women became when they entered an arranged marriage. Most were never fortunate to have a caring husband and true relationships in arranged marriages were rare. So I, like the rest, was just his personal sex servant to call at will, because that's what our main use was, whether I liked it or not. Whether it was right or not . . .
"Can't you speak?" He spat disgustedly," Not a minute ago, I couldn't shut you up and now you won't say a word."
My lips pursed together, trying to still the anger building inside of me. Anger was foolish at this point. I must show repent, remorse, at least regret. Oh, if only I had known he had such a temper, I feared he might become violent any second.
"I'm sorry," I repeated. Just an innocent lie.
"Yes, I know," he ground out angrily," But for what? That seems to be the issue under discussion,"
"I did not mean to insult you Severus—"
"Did I give you permission to call me by my first name?! Master Snape or Sir," he hissed.
The next three words were so venomously slow and precise that I blanched on the spot, "Take your pick," he spat.
And with that said, silence engulfed us. I bowed my head politely and refrained from any conversation the rest of the night and he seemed content to just read. Three hours passed that way. By the time I left, my back ached from the straight posture I had been holding. It was my defiance, my small way of showing that he did not control me—that I was not inferior to him as he made me feel. Ironic that my defiance should have the most—if not only—effect on me.
As we said goodbye, I made sure to add a lingering pressure on the word 'Sir'. He caught it and made no reply. Only to glare sardonically at me as Mother held onto my arm and I apparated us back home.
His face stayed in my mind for the rest of the night, telling me to 'take my pick' over and over again. But I felt like he was not telling me to pick on names but instead on my future.
Run away and never see any of my friends again or marry the man who already seemed to harbor an intense dislike for me.
Take your pick, you silly girl.
Take your pick . . .