Children of the Revolution

by Istani

Marauders era. Will a friend, someone who really cares, manage to tilt the scales when the time comes for Severus Snape to make a crucial choice? Of love triangles and a Silver Trio. AU.

35. Fairytale gone bad

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

special thanks to Alabaster Princess for doing the beta job

35- Fairytale gone bad

When Raven was working at the Red Lantern she tried to eavesdrop even more on Death Eater patrons, hoping to find out what Voldemort was up to. Alas, they were only talking about recent attacks without ever mentioning a venomous potion they might be using in the future.

One evening, she almost let go of the pole in shock because she recognised a familiar face among tonight's crowd of Death Eaters- young Regulus Black. Fortunately, no one noticed her consternation and she was once again glad for the Venetian mask she was wearing.

What was Blackie doing in a place like the Red Lantern? Wasn't he much too young for that sort of amusement? But then Raven recalled that he was of age now and besides, it wasn't really his presence that bothered her but his company. On the other hand, Lucius Malfoy was the husband of his cousin Narcissa and Rodolphus Lestrange was married to his other cousin, Bellatrix. So it was almost like a family meeting.

Heaving a sigh, Raven continued to dance. She had so hoped for the boy to not follow the path of pure-blood supremacists, clinging to every word of intolerance and prejudice the Dark Lord spoke. At the graduation party, she had had her hopes up high, believing he had come to his senses due to his relationship with Mellisandre McMillan. Apparently she'd been wrong about that and he was just as bigoted in his beliefs as Malfoy was.

What a pity, Raven thought because she actually liked the boy. Although he was a Black, he was so much kinder and not that much of a nuisance as his older brother was.

Then the music ended (it was intolerable anyway- she really had to talk to Henri about his poor taste in music and perhaps persuade him to buy some records of decent Muggle bands.) Lettie took over the pole from her. The sight of the sweet blonde witch made the patrons cheer in anticipation, but Raven didn't mind her colleague's popularity, knowing that Lettie was hoping for Rabastan Lestrange to notice her (her not-cousin was the only one in the group of Death Eaters who wasn't married yet and Lettie was so keen on marrying a Death Eater... for whatever reason.)

She left the stage and went to collect her tips. Usually, the Death Eaters were quite generous when it came to that, and Raven didn't get disappointed that night either. But when Regulus casually stuffed a fifty-Lantern-dollar-note in her bra, she couldn't help arching a brow at him. For the fraction of a second their eyes met and she knew immediately that he had recognised her although she was wearing a Venetian mask. He didn't say anything, though.

Raven decided that now was a good time for a cigarette break. She quickly changed into a set of casual black robes and left the Lantern through its back door, walking the short distance to the Muggle world where her beloved motorbike was parked.

The sight of black leather and chrome glittering in the neon light of street lamps had a calming effect on her. Leaning against her bike she lit a fag and inhaled almost greedily.

'Fuck', she thought, considering the consequences of Regulus Black having recognised her, 'if Blackie reveals my identity to Lucius, I'm so done for.' Her Mata Hari career would be over before it had actually begun , all because of little Blackie...

But when she thought all was lost, the boy had the nerve to approach her. He must have followed her outside.

"Well met, Raven Lestrange. What are you doing here?"

Raven cocked a sophisticated brow at him and replied casually, "I'm smoking a cigarette."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Yes, I understand that much. But I mean... in the Lantern."

"If you don't understand what I'm doing there you are probably still too young to visit such a place."

"Well, I sure liked your... performance."

"Ta."

"Does Snape know what you're doing?"

"Does dear Miss McMillan know where you are tonight?"

"Oh, that's long over." Regulus shrugged indifferently, but there seemed to be a hint of sadness in his voice.

"What happened?"

"It just didn't work between us."

"Perhaps you should reconsider the company you're hanging around with?"

"I-" He wanted to snap at her and tell her to mind her own business, but all of a sudden Regulus flinched at the sound of an accelerating car's screeching tyres. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings, and only then he realized that they were no longer in a world he was familiar with.

Instead, they were in the dark and shabby backyard of a dilapidated house; its windows were boarded up. Some light was falling in through a gateway, reflecting in the puddles on the ground. It was a cold light and it was blinking, forming letters.

"Where are we?"

"Um... in London."

"Muggle London," he drawled, so typically the aristocratic pure-blood supremacist. On the other hand, his eyes were wide with curiosity. Raven could tell he would have loved to walk through the gateway in order to take a closer look at the horrible, exciting, forbidden world. "I never knew it was so close to Knockturn Alley."

"I only found this entrance about a week ago; it's not very well known. But I was so tired of parking near the Leaky Cauldron and walk all the way through Diagon Alley to the Lantern..."

"Parking?" Regulus nodded in apparent understanding as he stared at that metallic and definitely Muggle thing she was sitting on. "Is that a cycle-motor?"

"A motorcycle,"she corrected him.

He nodded again. "Sirius owns one, too. He magically modified it, so it can fly. Does yours fly as well?"

"Nope, it's just perfect the way it is." Why was it that wizards always had to mess with Muggle technique, magically modifying it? If they were so keen on flying, why not improve the comfort of broomsticks or invent the magical equivalent of an aeroplane? But what surprised her most about his statement was the fact that Regulus still seemed to be in contact with his brother, although Sirius had been blasted off the family tree for opposing to their beliefs. "So you're still meeting your brother?"

Regulus sneered half-heartedly. "We're trying to avoid each other as much as possible but it does happen occasionally that we sort of run into each other nevertheless, and then he usually gives me a lengthy sermon.".

"Aw, I guess that sucks."

"You have no idea."

And yet, Raven couldn't help thinking, Regulus seemed to miss his older brother. There was a certain longing in his voice when he spoke of the mutt, and perhaps the Black brothers had gotten on quite well when they were kids.

But she couldn't linger any longer, wondering about the relationship of the Black brothers. As far as she knew Henri, he would already be waiting for her, hating her cigarette breaks since she wasn't making him rich when she was outside, smoking.

"I have to get back inside." Raven tapped her wand against the brick wall at their back and immediately it slid open to reveal an entrance. Regulus accompanied her on the short walk back to the Red Lantern, where Henri was indeed waiting for her.

"Where've ye been?" The goblin-like man snarled at her. "Ye're supposed to be at work."

"I am. All the time." She replied casually as she brushed past him, Regulus following in her wake

"Ah?" Henri glanced at the handsome young boy at her side and smirked ambiguously. "I see..."

"He thinks you're a whore!" Regulus whispered indignantly when they were out of Le Grand's earshot.

"Let him believe whatever he likes. I simply don't care." All of a sudden, Raven stopped. They were now in a narrow corridor that led from the wardrobe of the girls to bar. She grabbed the boy's arm and leaned forward so closely that Regulus almost thought she would kiss him. Instead, she pointed her wand at his temple and hissed, "But if you tell any of your prodigious family that you haven't been outside to shag a whore, I'll kill you."

His eyes widened in silent understanding, even though he couldn't have been more wrong about her motivation; Raven didn't fear recognition because she was ashamed of working at the Red Lantern.

"I won't tell anyone," Regulus promised solemnly and he fancied thinking he was helping a damsel in distress- albeit he knew very well that Raven Lestrange of all people didn't fit into that category of witches.

"Good boy." She patted his cheek and whispered in his ear, "I know you're a smart boy, Blackie-"

"Don't call me Blackie."

Teasing him felt like she was back at school, when life had been a tad easier but not very much so.

"Alright, Regulus. But please do reconsider your future plans."

He arched a brow at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know, one can only chose his friends but not his family, and that family seems to matter a great deal in those circles of yours- nevertheless I'm asking you to use your brains and understand that things aren't always what they seem to be at first glance. It never hurts to take a second glance and not take for granted what others tell you. Make up your own mind, Regulus."

Before he could possibly fathom what Lestrange was talking about, she was already back on stage, presenting her scantily clad self to the cheering audience.

-o-

Some days later, another surprise was waiting for Raven when she arrived at work. She took a glance at tonight's patrons and decided to tell Henri that this was a wonderful night to take a day off.

"Are you nuts?" Le Grand huffed at her. "You'll stay and do your bloody job. We always wanted folks to celebrate their stag party at the Lantern, so this is a wonderful opportunity to establish the Red Lantern as the leading place for amusement."

Raven heaved a sigh of frustration. "But why does it have to be that bloody stag?"

The Red Lantern wasn't just a place for Death Eaters and other shady guys; it was also frequented by all kind of wizards looking for some entertainment. Even Aurors came here to relax after a hard day at work and there had never been any trouble between the various groups of patrons. Therefore, Raven shouldn't be that surprised to see the group of Gryffindors occupying one of the best tables, sharing several bottles of Henri's best champagne.

Henri shot her a quizzical glance before giving her a sermon. "Mr Potter's gonna spend a whole lotta money tonight, and we will give him our special treatment that he never forgets his stag party. Do I make myself clear?"

She nodded kind of mulishly and added, "But you can't expect me to especially be nice to that bloody arrogant toerag."

"I see you are familiar with our dear guest. Well, be a good girl and forget your animosities for tonight." Henri sounded unusually strict, but Raven just wasn't a good girl. Good girls weren't wasting away their nights in places like the Red Lantern; they spent their nights at home, waiting for their boyfriends or husbands to come home. She briefly wandered what St Lily would say to where her future husband was spending the night before their wedding... Raven doubted she'd be amused. Most likely, she'd be scandalized, and that made her smirk maliciously.

No, she wouldn't be playing the good girl tonight. That was Lettie's or Wilda's established part anyway; Raven was always the more naughty kind of exotic dancer though never as sexually provoking as Randy, who was often giving her favourite patrons a... bonus performance in the alley.

Tonight was the perfect time for her new black leather outfit, Raven decided. Tonight, she was going to play dominatrix, equipped with a whip to keep misbehaving Gryffindorks in line.

-o-

Everybody seemed to love her show. The patrons were cheering and Henri Le Grand was very pleased with her even though Raven had actually whipped Potter across the face when he wanted to stuff his generous tip into her cleavage; instead, she had made him drool over her overknee boots while stuffing his Lantern Dollars down her bootleg.

She almost laughed out loud at the idea of how his face would fall should she suddenly reveal her identity. But she was wearing a black leather mask with silver studs, so there was no way for him to know that she was the Fat Crow he had so loved to torment at school. In the end, all guys were the same when confronted with a good amount of female allures. Even the werewolf was enjoying the show, which was kind of scary but not quite as scary as glancing at Pettigrew, who couldn't seem to keep his hands off his private parts. Merlin, that guy was so disgusting!

-o-

'JAMES POTTER WEDS LILY EVANS'

The Daily Prophet had it spread all over its front page as if there were no more important news to write about.

'Dashing James Potter, sole heir of the Potters fortune, married the love of his life, charming Miss Lily Evans, in a very private ceremony yesterday afternoon...'

Well, if the ceremony was really that private, why did it make it to the headline? Raven wondered as she read on. The article about the wedding was just as horribly sappy as that about their engagement, and it didn't surprise her at all to find out that it was by the same author, Rita Skeeter. This time, however, the 'very promising new journalist'- her words, not Raven's (she mightily doubted that that term was really adequate for the composer of such a crap)- had made it to the front page with her abysmal writing.

'...Yours Truly was delighted to receive a last minute invitation to the most exciting social event of the year, due to her recommendation of being a very promising new journalist...'

Merlin, that much self-adulation shouldn't be allowed. It couldn't get any worse, Raven thought, only to realize- after she had finished reading Skeeter's article- that she had been wrong. That piece of journalism was so dripping with saccharine, blatant trivialities, it almost made her teeth ache.

As she drank a mug of sugar-free black coffee, she started pondering how she could possible hide today's edition of the Daily Prophet from Severus, knowing that it would hurt him tremendously to be faced with the inevitable. His Lily was now married to his worst bully, Potter.

There were even pictures showing her and her newly wed husband, smiling and waving. Kissing.

"Good morning," Severus drawled as he entered the kitchen where Raven was still sitting, staring at pictures of Lily clad in a nightmare or white frills and ruffles- just the perfect dress for a girl who wanted to be a princess.

Almost instinctively, Raven balled up the Daily Prophet in her hands but that only caught Severus attention even more. He arched a brow at her and she tossed the paper to him; it had been a really poor attempt at hiding something from him. And to what purpose anyway? He knew they were engaged, he knew there had been a stag party at the Red Lantern. The only thing he hadn't known was the actual date of the wedding. Now it was time for him to get used to the fact that that his dear St Lily was Mrs James Potter..

Raven saw him swallowing hard as he tried to digest the news without showing emotions. Then he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down, still staring at the picture of Lily looking so happy at Potter's side.

"Isn't that dress just horrible?" She asked in an attempt to break the silence. "All these frills and ruffles and the freaking mass of useless fabric that's trailing behind her..."

Severus glared at Raven, but he had to admit that she was right. In all of his dreams of marrying Lily, she had worn a plain white dress and her hair had fallen over her shoulders, sparkling red in the sunlight. His stupid, stupid dreams.

"I don't want to talk about it," he grumbled, adding in a lower tone, "Now Potter has his trophy wife."

"Well, I guess that Lily cannot complain either. After all, she has managed to snag one of the wealthiest bachelors-"

"Lily's not like that!" Severus cut in.

"Ah, but you still believe you have to make it to fortune and fame in order to be worthy of her affection?"

"I-" It didn't happen often that he was at a loss at words, but right here and now Severus didn't know what to say. He wanted to yell at Raven, to tell her that she was wrong. And yet, her words didn't lack a certain logic. He still didn't believe that Lily had married Potter only because he was the sole heir of quite a fortune, but that would mean she loved him... because of his character traits? That was just as unlikely. Lily couldn't have forgotten the way Potter had hassled him at school. On the other hand, Lily had long stopped caring about him..."

"Sev, why don't you go and find yourself a witch who loves you the way you are and not because of the amount of Galleons in your Gringotts vault," Raven said softly.

"Why didn't you take pictures at that stag party of Potter, to show Lily what kind of guy she was about to marry? Perhaps she would have reconsidered their relationship." Severus replied in a sharper tone than he had intended, trying to clutch at a straw so that he wouldn't have to face his shattered dreams, his fairytale gone bad.

"If we took pictures to discredit our patrons, we'd soon be ruined. Discretion is an important thing in our business, I told you that before." They had had the very same discussion the morning after the stag party, when Raven had told him about the event. Basically, that had also been a breach of discretion- but it was one thing to tell your best friend about what you have seen or heard at work whereas it was a completely different matter if you made those things public. And spying on Death Eaters was just another completely different matter. "Besides, there's nothing wrong about going to a table dance bar at your stag party. Actually, the reason for stag parties is to celebrate the groom's last night of freedom before he enters marriage, and enjoying the sight of scantily clad girl is not a crime as long as the husband-to-be keeps his hands to himself."

Severus harrumphed; he still didn't like Raven's job much and the thought of the Marauders of all people watching her dancing half-naked, cheering and leering, made him feel sick. But he didn't want to argue with her now. He knew her point of view and he accepted it with a heavy heart.

"I have to go to work."

He stood and went to the fireplace. A moment later he was gone, leaving Raven still sitting at the kitchen table.

She heaved a sigh as she Summoned today's issue of the Daily Prophet he had so carelessly dropped. Glancing once again at Lily's hilarious I'm-a-little-princess dress, she set the paper ablaze and used the remains to light herself a cigarette.

-o-

In the days that followed Lily's wedding to James Potter, Severus locked himself up in his room for most of the time, working hard on the potion- poison- the Dark Lord had ordered him to brew. It helped him to get over his heartache. And he was making quite a good progress, testing his creation on some rats he had bought in Knockturn Alley.

Sometimes, he had to turn on his cassette deck and listen to some really loud punk rock music so that Raven wouldn't hear the tortured shrieks of the rats. Of course, he could have used a silencing spell just as well. But the music had a soothing effect on him and he needed that to stay sane while his mind was occupied with creating... death.

The Dark Lord would be pleased with him.

And hopefully, he'd leave him alone after that. But probably, Severus feared, that was just wishful thinking. He was already in too deep and there seemed to be no way of getting out of it- except, perhaps, he supported Raven in her little spying game. Of course, it was an idealistic idea and a mightily dangerous one, too. But he couldn't think of any better way to defy the Dark Lord.

-o-

When it was time to deliver his deathly creation, Severus met Lucius at Borgin and Burkes, the most notorious shop in Knockturn Alley. They were specialized in ancient and unusual magical objects. But Severus didn't have a chance to take a look around because Lucius dragged him to the fireplace almost immediately.

"You don't have the money to afford any of that." Malfoy drawled

Fortunately, Severus was prepared to meet the Dark Lord tonight. This time, he had received an owl from Malfoy telling him when and were to meet, and of course he had informed Raven.

"Why have you bothered to come here?" Severus asked. "I could have Apparated to Malfoy Manor."

"We're not going to Malfoy Manor and unlike you, I can afford to go shopping here whenever I wish."

Severus rolled his eyes at such much arrogance. Was Lucius still envious that the Dark Lord had taken interest in a lowly half-blood? Well, he couldn't have cared less about that dubious interest.

"Lestrange Manor." Lucius said as he tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace.

Severus followed suit and a little later he was standing in a dimly lit hallway. The atmosphere of the manor was rather gloomy, not at all like the house of the other Lestrange family- but that was a thought he'd rather stowed away to the very back of his mind, just like so many else tat didn't belong here. Thoughts of Raven and Lily; thought of good times. All he allowed himself to think of was potions research.

"Stop staring and brush the soot of your robes!" Lucius chided him. "I know you're not used to a decent living style but you could at least try to behave like a civilized person. And don't touch anything."

"Don't worry," Severus said as he brushed clean his robes, "I am here because the Dark Lord asked to see me, not to steal a golden candelabra."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at the insolent half-blood, wishing he could hex him back to the Muggle dunghill he came from. But he knew better than to displease the Dark Lord.

Lucius led the way down a long corridor which gave a clue about the actual size of the house- or castle?- Severus wondered. The floor was covered with heavy carpets; huge chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling, and although all candles were lit, they didn't seem to radiate much light. The walls were crowded with portraits of ancestors in golden frames.

"Scum..."

"...filthy son of a blood-traitor..."

"...dirtying the time honoured halls of Lestrange mansion..."

These and other things the portraits were muttering as Severus walked by, but he didn't pay them any heed. He ignored Lucius' amused smirk, too.

At the end of the corridor, a door opened to a spiral staircase that was leading to the basement. The air was getting colder and the light was even more dimmed. Severus was glad that Lucius was a couple of steps ahead of him because it was always safer to walk a narrow, steep staircase if no one was breathing down your back.

Finally, they reached the end of the stairs and Lucius opened the double door to a spacious dungeon decorated in Slytherin colours, where the Dark Lord was sitting on a throne-like chair in midst his loyal followers. A witch was kneeling at his feet.

"Ah, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed. With a seemingly bored gesture of his long spidery fingers, he shooed away his inferiors.

The witch rose to her feet, licking her lips as she glanced at the intruders.

She was... beautiful. Probably one of the most beautiful witches Severus had ever seen. Her body was the dream of every wizard and she seemed to be prone to showing her female allures... considering the revealing robes she was wearing. A very low cut bodice presented the swell of her breasts and almost distracted from her other merits. Long, black hair was falling in unruly cascades over her shoulders. Her face was of the same classical elegance that Severus had already seen in others members of the Black family, and although she and Narcissa appeared to be like night and day at first glance, there was no doubt that they were sisters. The beautiful witch must be Bellatrix Lestrange, wife of Rodolphus Lestrange and (if rumours were true) the most loyal of Voldemort's followers.

"Lucius, my dear brother-in-law," Bellatrix spoke in a sing-sang tone, feigning a sweet smile at Malfoy, "You brought a guest tonight. How... charming." She moved closer to Severus- too close, he thought in sudden alarm.

At close proximity, her perfume smelled sickeningly. Her hair looked lacklustre and her female allures... weren't alluring anymore.

"Lucius, you may leave as well; I don't need you tonight." Voldemort proclaimed.

"As you wish, my Lord." Lucius bowed to his master and left the dungeon. At the door he stopped to shoot a sneering glance in Snape's direction, almost pitying him.

Bellatrix very nearly shoved her cleavage into Severus' face as she ran her claw-like fingernails down his chest. "So that is your prodigious potioneer, my Lord?" Like a cat in heat she was rubbing his body against his, and it didn't arouse him at all. Her eyes were so... cold; it chilled him to the bone. They reminded him of steel or of November skies, and there was definitely a hint of madness glittering in them.

She glanced at Severus and chuckled. It reminded him of a cackle, the cackling of a hyena. "He's nothing special at all."

"You don't have to fancy him, Bella, as long as he's useful to me." The Dark Lord cut in with a cold voice that made her shudder albeit not with fear. But Voldemort paid no attention to her. "Step closer, Severus, and tell me you are useful to me."

"I… I'm doing my very best to please you, my Lord, but my efforts are still standing poor in the light of your brilliance." Severus bowed deeply. It was always a clever move to show modesty when you're face to face with a... tyrant. Only Gryffindorks would confront a wizard of such immense power with their very own sense of righteousness.

On the other hand, it wasn't wise to bore Lord Voldemort with too much modesty, either.

"I assume you have the potion I ordered you to brew."

"Of course, my Lord. I hope you are pleased with the result."

"Last time we met, I gave you a little demonstration of what I am capable of so you better not disappoint me. Hand over the potion now."

Severus did what he was being told.

Voldemort opened the vial and sniffed at its contents. "It smells inconspicuous, which is always of advantage- you have tested it properly, I reckon?"

"Indeed, my Lord. It is decidedly fatal."

"And there is definitely no antidote available?"

Severus knew he had to answer as honestly as possible now, and he chose his words well. "My Lord, I am not a fully accomplished Potions Master yet, nevertheless I can assure you that the wizarding world knows no antidote to this poison. But I cannot assure you that no wizard will ever come up with an antidote, due to the constant development in potions research."

The Dark Lord seemed to be satisfied with that answer. Voldemort knew that there were no bounds to magic, and once you had cut across the line of limitations set by the Ministry, everything was possible. He didn't want to hear any of the young potioneer's lengthy explanations about his creation since he wasn't interested in his academic research. What he wanted to see were results.

If Severus had ever questioned the Dark Lord's waywardness, he got taught a lesson in ruthlessness now as Lord Voldemort offered the vial with his potion to Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Drink it," he ordered.

Although she still didn't think much of Severus and his abilities, she was hesitant now. There was even a hint of fear in her cold grey eyes. "But my Lord..."

"Haven't you repeatedly sworn not only your allegiance but also your unwavering loyalty to me? Haven't you said you'd die for me?"

Bellatrix flinched ever so slightly. Then she took the vial from Lord Voldemort's cold, spidery fingers and lifted it to her mouth in an attempt to prove her unfaltering loyalty, never questioning his reasons.

"Stop!" He hissed before she could take a sip. "You're too useful a follower to waste. Let's find someone else instead." His blood-red eyes darted over to Severus, who felt like a deer caught in the spotlight of a rapidly approaching car.

He couldn't move. He couldn't even think clearly. It was over. The Dark Lord wouldn't hesitate to use him as a lab rat and test his very own poison on him... there was no chance to get away in time...

Meanwhile, the Dark Lord was enjoying himself immensely, seeing the spark of fear flickering up first in the eyes of Bellatrix and now also in Snape's, and if a potioneer was scared of his very own creation then it must be something quite effective.

"I think it's about time to test the potion on one of our... guest. Bella, bring me that stinking Mudblood."

She was almost enthusiastic to obey... as if the prospect of seeing someone suffer was turning her on. While Bella left the dungeon room, the Dark Lord Summoned a stone basin and filled it with the contents of Severus' vial. The potion seemed to multiply itself in the process until it filled the stone basin.

"Amuse me, Severus, and tell me what to expect of your potion."

"Um, among other things, it will cause unquenchable thirst-"

"Thirst?" Voldemort hissed threateningly, apparently not amused.

"A thirst that cannot be stilled with water," Severus hurried to explain, "Along with dehydration comes a severe state of hypoglycaemia that first results in palpitation and a feeling of anxiety-"

Before Severus could go into details, Bellatrix Lestrange returned dragging along a ragged looking, frightened young wizard. The victim wasn't much older than Severus himself and it startled him immensely to realize that his face appeared somehow familiar to him. He didn't know his name but he was certain that they had met in the corridors of Hogwarts once or twice...

He thought he was prepared for what was to come, but it was one thing to hear a rat scream in agony and a totally different one to hear those screams of agony coming from another human being. The Muggleborn whined, begging for water and the Dark Lord gave him more of the potion to drink until the stone basin was almost empty. It seemed to take hours.

Severus knew he could have saved him- at another time, another place. But here, in the Dark Lord's lair, there was nothing he could do. He had to witness the result of something vile he had created and while a part of him was appalled by his own creation, the other one was fascinated. In an academic way.

Was it selfish to watch someone die just to save his own skin, to not risk the Dark Lord's wrath?

No, he decided in silent conclusion. He had to stay alive because he was the only one who knew that there was an antidote; he hadn't even lied to Voldemort by telling him that there wasn't any in the wizarding world.

-o-

"Sev!" Raven jumped up and ran to the door the very moment she heard the key turn in the lock. "You alright?"

Severus knew she had waited for him to come home and although he was glad to see her, he almost didn't dare to look her in the eye for he felt dirty and corrupted by the Dark Lord and his tempting power. He really didn't want to talk about his evening.

But he knew as well that he couldn't avoid her and simply go to bed instead- Merlin, he wouldn't be able to fall asleep anyway. Besides, she always worried too much about him, therefore he owed her to not leave her in the dark.

"You alright?" She asked again. "Did he hurt you?"

He shook his head no and risked a glance at her. For a moment he almost revelled in the sight of her because she was so very beautiful... so much more beautiful than Bellatrix Lestrange, actually. Although they both had the same hair colour, there couldn't have been a greater difference between the two witches. Bella was all darkness impersonated with her cold grey eyes whereas Raven's eyes held the promise of warm summer days; she was like a spark in the dark. And even though Severus hadn't seen Raven at work in the Red Lantern, he was certain that- despite her being scantily clad- she wouldn't ever look as cheap as Bellatrix...

"You don't want to talk about it, am I right?"

Raven's voice ended his revery. He wanted to snap 'no!' but that wouldn't have been fair and besides, it wasn't true either. He... well, he still didn't want to talk about tonight's events and yet he longed almost desperately for her company, for the warmth and sanity she radiated.

"Care for a glass of wine instead?"

"That would be agreeable." Severus walked into her room. Yes, he'd like to drink a glass of wine with her and perhaps listen to one of her newest records. The post-punk era had brought to life some promising new Muggle bands, like Joy Division- there wasn't much joy in their music, but that only suited his mood. He wanted to forget the desperate cries of that poor Muggleborn wizard suffering from the effects of a poison he had created.

The colourful bubbles of Raven's lava lamps had always a soothing effect on him- or was it the wine he was drinking? Severus wasn't certain what it was that loosened his tongue in the end and made his talk about tonight's events. Raven didn't do anything to persuade him or press him; she just listened without judging or condemning him. Her sympathy very nearly undid him. He was certain she was regarding him with much more compassion than he deserved. But it felt so damn good to know she accepted him the way he was.

.

.