An audience with Dumbledore

As the green flames dampened down, Severus turned from the grate and returned to his workbench where a series of cauldrons simmered gently. He had made considerable progress with the potion following his spectacular loss of control earlier. After he had ejected Lucius, he had suddenly seen everything with amazing clarity and he realised that by unlocking access to his heart, he had effectively opened a Pandora's box of hell which had threatened to destroy everything he had worked for. Not only that, he had placed Hermione in danger and that couldn't happen again.

Therefore he had made the decision to lock his heart away and drive Hermione from his mind, refusing to allow any hint of her or the slightest memory of those precious weeks spent with her to surface. He had barricaded it all under layer upon layer of mental barriers, so deep he doubted he would ever retrieve them. No matter. It was better this way. At least she would be safe…unlike Lily. In return, he would be free to focus undistracted on the task at hand. He knew it would hurt her deeply, but it was necessary. He hoped one day she would understand but he had to accept that he was likely to lose her forever.

He rubbed a hand wearily across his face. After banishing his lover to the mental abyss, he had turned his attention to Dumbledore. A man who had used and abused him as surely as Voldemort ever had. In fact, his total disregard for his health and wellbeing had been more damaging that any physical punishment the Dark Lord had dealt him. A man who professed to love him as he would a son; yet who had repeatedly put him in harm's way deliberately. A man who if he truly did love him as a son, should've at least tried to protect him where he could. The thought made him feel sick. So Albus Dumbledore and all the conflicting and turbulent emotions he evoked in him was also banished to the abyss. In loving them, he had left himself vulnerable. This was unacceptable so from now on he would not allow himself to feel in order to protect Hermione; Dumbledore could go to hell. His focus had to be on developing this potion as fast as possible if his plan were to work and release him from the hell that was his life, and once that was done and if he survived, he would try and salvage his relationship with Hermione. If Pandora's tale was true to its word then there would always be hope.

XXX

Narcissa had woken abruptly, and slipped quietly from her bed so as not to disturb her husband, she wrapped herself in a dark cloak and without realising it, soon found herself outside Severus's quarters.

Having him here in such close proximity was akin to torture. Over the years she had learned to keep her feelings locked away and barricaded behind the cool exterior she presented to the world. It was a role she was excelled at, and so Lady Malfoy was regarded by many as a frigid, haughty woman with no passion or fire at her heart but it couldn't be further from the truth. Quite to the contrary – in her burned a heat so strong that she had to consciously control it lest it escape and everyone discover the simple truth that Narcissa Malfoy was in love with Severus Snape and not the man who paraded around as he husband. She had heard the whispers amongst the female death eaters who believed her marriage to Lucius to be an utter waste of an extremely wealthy and somewhat handsome wizard. If only they knew what an incredible disappointment he was, they might begin to comprehend the regret that coloured her and wrapped her in its icy persona. Hell, what good was a pretty face if the man was rotten in every other regard?

But now her resolve was wavering. Having felt Severus's heart beneath her hand as he battled for life, the deep feelings for him that she had suppressed for so many long years had resurfaced with a vengeance and were now driving her to distraction.

The desperate longing had begun to claw away at her as he had lain comatose under her care and his recent return to health had only served to further fuel the fire, knowing that he would live and recover. She had thought that she had carefully hidden this part of her away securely, knowing that no good could ever come of loving Severus Snape. And yet here she was.

Past experience had taught her that he was a loyal man – a rare quality that was utterly wasted in his pursuit of that insufferable Lily Evans. She had been a fool, casting him aside in favour of James Potter, a man she despised more than her husband, and that was saying something. Cowardly, juvenile and petulant, she had instantly hated him and his petty hate campaign against Severus and had openly rejoiced when he and his pathetic wife had died at Voldemort's hand. Now it was that mudblood, Granger, who was standing in her way.

She stared at the unyielding oak of the potions lab door as she tried to make the choice: demand his attention and see what came of it; or rebuild her shields and shroud herself once again in the bitter embrace of a loveless marriage. It had to be worth the risk – she had nothing to lose.

Pressing an ear against the wood, she strained to hear anything that might indicate he was awake and was presently rewarded with the gentle clink of ice against glass. Her heart began pounding in anticipation of seeing him again, alone. She made her choice and rapped firmly on the wood.

She stumbled as the door opened abruptly, and she fell forward heavily, suddenly finding herself pushed up tight against stiff black fabric and a row of expensive-looking buttons. A masculine scent that was all Severus flooded her senses and she relaxed against his chest with a sigh.

"Narcissa." It was a whisper, so unlike his usual manner that she chanced a look up. She found his head turned down towards her, his eyes as black as she'd ever seen them, gazing at her in such a way she felt her knees weaken.

"Severus –"

"What are you doing here?"

Lost in his eyes, she floundered for something to say and in the end, gave up.

"You should return to your quarters, it is late", she could hear the hesitation in his voice, the lack of conviction. She chanced a small smile.

"What if I don't want to?"

Severus didn't flinch, his gaze steady upon hers. She felt her cheeks flush.

"That would be a mistake".

"Says who?"

"Says your husband's best friend. It would not be the morally correct way to behave".

Narcissa steeled her jaw, bracing herself for the inevitable rejection. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it", she breathed.

"I am a man, my lady, with considerable weakness and questionable morals in the presence of a beautiful woman. Do not tempt me", the challenge was clear.

"Forgive me, I should not distract you from your work", she turned to go but felt a warm hand slip around her waist and pull her back gently into his embrace.

"You are certainly a distraction, but a welcome one, Lady Malfoy. It has been a trying day."

She shivered as his silky baritone dropped to a whisper.

She felt her eyes drift to those sensuous lips and found herself leaning forward, fully expecting him to push her away as he had so many times before. She almost jerked away in surprise when their lips met, and she felt his arms come around her and pull her closer as he deepened the kiss. She let out a moan as his tongue met hers, and one hand snaked confidently around the curve of her bottom as he lifted her with ease. Hardly believing her luck, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her into the room and placed her on his workbench. Breaking his kiss momentarily, he pulled back and their eyes searched each other's before he latched back onto her with a fervour, one hand wrapping around her neck, the other tearing the cloak from her shoulders and revealing the fine silk negligée she wore beneath. She gasped into his mouth as he ripped the silk and his fingers closed around one exposed, pert nipple, teasing it to a point as he began to trail hot kisses down her exposed neck. She fumbled at the buttons trailing down his chest, savouring the heat of his skin beneath, and the frantic tattoo of his heart as he worked himself into a frenzy. Whatever was driving him, she certainly wasn't going to argue. She had wanted this for so many long years, ever since that fateful night in the woods. Glancing over his shoulder, she could see that the door to the lab was wide open – but Merlin be damned if anyone was going to stop her now. She'd rather die than never feel him inside her again. Turning her attention back to him, she released the final button and pushed the heavy frock coat from his shoulders and immediately began tugging at the buttons on his trousers. She could feel the hard outline of his erection pushing insistently against the confines of the fabric and she felt a shiver of anticipation low in her belly. He continued to trail down her body, his hot mouth enveloping one firm nipple and she momentarily released his trousers as she gave in to the sensation, burying her hands in his hair as he continued to tease her. She watched as he moved, his eyes closed, dark eyelashes bold against the paleness of his skin. Although he was slim, his muscles were firm and gently defined and she savoured the feel of her flesh on his as she ran her hands over his back and the many scars littered there. He had lived a hard life, he had fought – unlike her husband, an abject coward.

She groaned as he moved further south, reaching with one hand to tear her panties off and confidently pushing a finger inside her. She moaned as he moved it back and forth, and she began to pant as he stroked her clit with his other hand. She could feel her orgasm building as he stroked her inside and out, eyeing her with undisguised lust as she thrust against him. She opened her eyes fully as she came hard with a cry, her body jerking wildly. Their eyes met and he gave her a slow, confident smile that would probably be the most erotic thing she would ever see. Gasping for breath, she leapt for him, wrapping her legs around his waist again and using her momentum to bring them crashing against the wall. Frantically she tugged his trousers down, and was relieved to find he had been commando and finally, his cock sprang free. For one long moment he looked into her eyes. No emotion showed there and she wondered how present he actually was, whether he was fully aware who he had wrapped around him, who he was seeing before him, but there was no way she was stopping now. She grabbed him firmly, and guided him into her. Her eyes widened as he filled her to the hilt and she was reminded of how very different he was to Lucius, how much better he was in every respect. A small groan escaped him as she used the wall behind her to thrust against him, before he returned the thrust, driving her hard against the stone. His eyes had slipped closed, and she could feel his breath ghosting across her skin in hot bursts as he quickened his pace, stretching her, filling her entirely. She lost herself in the pleasure, the feel of a man worshipping her body as she deserved, in the way she had been missing since that wonderful night all those years ago. She raked her fingernails down his back, taking pleasure at his pained grunt as she tore the flesh over his shoulder, but he didn't break his rhythm. Instead, he whipped her away from the wall and pushed her backwards across the old armchair, pulling her legs up to rest either side of his face. From this angle she could feel every inch of him as he continued to thrust into her deeply, one hand snaking down to her clit and stroking it firmly. Just when she could take it no longer, she exploded, coming hard with a scream and clamping around him tightly. As she rode out her orgasm, she felt him tense suddenly and with a deep moan, he emptied himself within her. For a long moment, she simply stared in sated euphoria at him. His chest was heaving, sweat droplets making their way down across the recently healed scars, weaving crazy tracks across the pale skin. His face was fixed in a grimace of pain, his eyes firmly clamped shut. She struggled up on her elbows with difficulty, given that her legs were still hooked around his neck. As she moved towards him, she caught a movement by the doorway and her heart began to thud erratically as she peered fearfully around Severus's side.

There, framed in the doorway by the weak, flickering light of a lit wand tip, stood her husband. His face was frozen in an expression of shock, his mouth slightly agape. She swore, jerking away from Severus and scrambling to cover her modesty.

Lucius's eyes flicked from his naked wife to his best friend. He felt the rage start to bubble within him and his face twisted into a grimace, "Generous as I am with my hospitality, Severus, perhaps I ought to have clarified that it did not extend to fucking my wife."

Severus turned, and regarded his friend with indifference. Replacing his clothing with a gentle flick of his wrist. His face was totally devoid of emotion.

"How long have you been watching?"

"From the moment my wife started screaming like a common whore!" Lucius forced out through clenched teeth.

Severus was in no mood for Lucius. Yes, he shouldn't have taken what Narcissa had offered but seeing as he was no longer letting his heart rule his head, it had served to satisfy a need, nothing more. He would have to make sure she knew that.

"My apologies Lucius, it will not happen again. Although you may want to consider why your wife found it necessary to seek my company in order to satisfy her. I take it you were not up to the task?"

"How dare you insult me in my own home! Not only do you disrespect me, but you dishonour yourself by taking my wife!" Lucius stepped closer, his hands balled into tight fists.

"Your sense of propriety astounds me, Lucius. Narcissa is a grown witch, more than capable of making her own decisions."

Lucius flushed, "She is my wife and she should act with some semblance of dignity, not putting it about like some Knockturn wench!"

Severus adjusted his cravat and offered him a raised eyebrow.

"I did not have to take what she offered, that was my choice. The fault here lies with me – leave Narcissa out of this".

"Severus –" Narcissa began, but the words died on her lips as she regarded the murderous expression in her husband's eyes.

"Not a word, Cissy, not when you stand there, soiled like some alley cat. Clean yourself up." He snarled, giving her a look of utter contempt.

"That is not a respectable way to speak to your wife, Lucius," Severus stated, his tone low and dangerous.

"Go to hell, Severus! You dare speak to me of honour when -"

There was a blur of black and suddenly Lucius found himself pinned up against the stone wall, with the tip of Severus's wand pushed firmly into the hollow at the base of his neck. He gasped in shock.

"You know nothing of honour," Severus whispered, his eyes as black and dead as the abyss as he regarded his friend coldly. His face was pale, and he was trembling. Little beads of sweat at his temple betrayed the fact that he was in considerable pain, and evidently, occluding heavily. Whatever possessed Severus at that moment was dark, and Lucius quailed under his icy glare. He had always known that Severus had an affinity with the darkness, his grasp and delivery of dark spellwork the reason that brought him to his side all those years ago. But he had been young then, powerful, but unskilled. Now, as a fully trained, mature wizard, he was a formidable force.

"You quite happily shag any willing witch or wizard, whenever the need takes you. I have been there, I have seen it. You left no thought for your loyal wife waiting for you at home on those occasions." Severus continued, "yet you would punish her for seeking my bed? Is she so very different from you?"

"Loyal?! Neither of you know the meaning -" Lucius spluttered, before the wand tip dug further into his skin, drawing a bead of blood.

"Yes," Narcissa intervened, moving to stand beside Severus. Fully clothed now, the only trace of her dalliance a rosy blush to her pale cheeks. "I have been loyal since the day we married! Even after all those nights when you would stumble home drunk, smelling of other women – I never strayed. Oh but I wanted to, believe me!"

Lucius regarded her with cold eyes, his lips curled in disgust as he looked her up and down.

"I suppose I should be thanking him really, for relieving me of the onerous task of servicing a cold and barren witch like you. Is it any wonder I look to others?"

The wand tip pushed in further, drawing a pained gasp from the older man.

"Hold your tongue, Lucius, if you wish to keep it." The threat was clear, and he clamped his mouth shut and swallowed hard.

Narcissa looked rapidly between the two men. She could sense the iciness of occlusion that was emanating from Severus, and she could see the barely restrained rage building within her husband. If she didn't put a stop to this soon, there was a very real possibility that someone would die and it was pretty clear that person wouldn't be Severus. As much as she hated her husband, he was father to her son, and she could not stand by and let this happen.

"You have that which I will never have, yet you do not appreciate it. The love of a good woman, a son –" Severus spoke slowly, dangerously. "You want for nothing, yet it is never enough."

"You could have it all –" Lucius stammered, his eyes widening in fear as Severus glared unflinchingly at him.

"I am not permitted to have anything," he hissed, his handsome features contorting in pain, "that which I want, I cannot have." His wand wavered and his knees began to buckle. Narcissa, noticing the trembling in his limbs, moved to steady him, but he pushed her back. "I do not need anyone. NOW GET OUT!" he roared, whirling around unsteadily and directing a fierce gust of air at Lucius. It took the older man by surprise and he found himself unceremoniously dumped on his rear on the hard floor just outside the room, before the door slammed shut in his face.

In the silence that followed, the only sound in the room was Severus's heaving breaths. He stood hunched over his workbench, shoulders tensed. Narcissa approached carefully, but before she had made it even two steps closer, his soft murmur stopped her in her tracks.

"It was a moment of weakness, Cissy, nothing more. I enjoyed it as a release but there can be no 'us.' I cannot endanger your life, as I have others before you. "

Narcissa bit her lip as tears threatened at the edge of her vision, "It is my risk to -"

He did not turn, and his voice was riddled with pain.

"Go now and leave me, Narcissa."

"You are hurt –"

"I will recover. Do not concern yourself with me, I do not ask for it, nor do I want it."

He turned to face her, and she could see in that moment that he had stopped occluding and that he looked positively ill.

"Merlin, Severus – what is it?" she reached for him in alarm and he batted her hand away.

"Damn it, witch! Don't fuss!"

"I'm worried about you – it wasn't so long ago that you were dying in my arms!" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry to have put you through that but you needn't worry, I am not going to die just yet."

"What does that even mean?" her voice hitched in concern, "What –"

She was cut off as Severus suddenly bent double, clasping his left forearm tight to his chest. An agonised howl escaped him as the Dark Mark flared to life with an intensity he hadn't felt in some time. Voldemort was angry, or excited – or both. Either way, it did not bode well. Not being able to bear the pitying expression on Narcissa's face any longer, he touched his wand to the mark and disapparated with a crack, leaving her to stare worriedly at the place where he had stood.

Voldemort was not a patient man. As he waited for his Death Eaters to assemble, he paced the room incessantly, his frustration growing with every step. Insolent fools, keeping their Lord waiting! As the first materialised before him, he took no hesitation in hexing him across the room, the severe impact enough to send the man careening into the fireplace with a thud. The second fared no better, and was promptly dispatched into the bookcase, where books rained down on him and quickly rendered him senseless. By the time Severus knelt before him, he was apoplectic with rage and the Malfoy's grand dining room was littered with insensate Death Eaters and broken furniture.

"My Lord," Severus bowed low.

"Give me a good reason not to torture you into a blithering idiot like Bella did to those poor, unfortunate Longbottoms?"

"Forgive me, my Lord, for keeping you waiting."

Voldemort stopped pacing and narrowed his eyes. "I am your Master, Severus, you come when I call you immediately." He hissed. "I expect insolence from these fools, but not from someone of your intelligence. Do not be late again, Severus, otherwise you will feel the full force of my displeasure."

"My Lord, I am sorry to have vexed you. How is it I can assist you?"

Voldemort snarled and whirled away in a flurry of silken robes.

"I am impatient Severus, I wish to descend upon Hogwarts tonight."

A flash of panic raced across his mind. It's too soon.

"My Lord, if I may – I am yet to finalise your strengthening solution, and to face up to Dumbledore in your weakened state would be foolhardy. We must restore you to full strength before –"

The curse hit hard, knocking him to the floor and driving the breath from his chest. It held for the merest of seconds before being lifted, and he lay momentarily stunned on the floor, staring at the intricate plasterwork on the vaulted ceiling.

"There was a time when you would do all I asked of you without question. So keen and eager to please." Voldemort recommenced his pacing. "Yet since my return you are late to respond to my summons, and full of excuses for not doing as I command. Tell me Severus, why is that?"

Severus's mind screamed at him to respond but he was finding it increasingly difficult to order his thoughts and all he could do was stare mutely at his Lord, knowing that the delay would cost him dearly. He forced himself to his knees. Seconds later he found himself staring at the ceiling once more as the hard crack of a whip against his cheek drove him once more to the floor. He felt the skin split and the telltale tickle of blood spilling out.

"Your hesitation speaks volumes and displeases me. Whilst I place you higher in favour than these," he gestured to the unconscious figures strewn amongst the broken housewares, a look of utter disdain crossing his features, "halfwits, do not presume that you are above rebuke." He punctuated his speech with a quick burst of crucio. As Severus curled up on himself, riding out the pain, Voldemort advanced, finally releasing the curse when he stood directly over the stricken man.

"You will deliver me to Dumbledore this evening or feel the full force of my wrath. I do not believe in mercy and I do not accept failure. Show disrespect to me again and I will ensure you suffer ceaselessly, with no hope of the blissful release of death. Am I understood?"

Severus forced his eyes open to meet the angry red slits. Jerkily, he inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"My lord," he managed, barely controlling his rebelling stomach that threatened to heave its contents all over Voldemort's finest silk. That would definitely push the mad man past the point of no return.

"Excellent!" a wide grin stretched across Voldemort's translucent skin as he whirled away in a flurry of robes, "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

When he finally heard the door slam shut, Severus let his head drop back onto the cold floor and closed his eyes against the unbearable thumping inside his skull. Death – what a novel idea. If only he could be afforded that one small thing. Gathering his strength, he rolled onto his front and pushed himself unsteadily to his knees, and grabbing hold of a nearby table, hauled himself to his feet. He wavered there for a moment as the room span dizzily around him and he felt his stomach protest. Taking a deep breath, he lurched away from the table and made his way towards the door. He was halfway there when the door swung open and he came face to face with Lucius. More face to fist actually, he thought as a solid punch landed on his jaw and for the third time in twenty minutes, found himself staring up at the ceiling. As his brain connected the dots, and pain bloomed across his jaw, Lucius's face swam into hazy focus above him. He was smiling.

"That was for being disrespectful to me," he extended an arm to Severus, "as for the business with Narcissa, well, you are like a brother to me and I should hate to fall out with you over a Black so let us consider this matter finished. What is mine is yours, brother".

For a long moment, Severus just stared at his old friend. He knew he shouldn't have accepted Narcissa's offer and if he had allowed it, he knew the guilt of betraying Hermione would've poleaxed him, but as he had made the decision to forget all about her, he accepted it for what it was – just sex. He also knew that if he had caught Lucius with his wife, he would've had a merry time rearranging his face and other parts of his anatomy. Lucius really was a coward through and through. The real reason he had relented was because he was scared of Severus, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed in his friend for not defending his wife's honour. Still, he would be a fool to attract enemies where it wasn't strictly necessary. Severus took the proffered hand and let himself be hauled to nis feet. He staggered, and immediately felt a steadying arm slip around his waist as the older man led him towards the door.

"You know its funny, because having seen the whole package I wonder whether you'd like to join my wife and I some –"

Severus stopped abruptly and gave him such a hard glare that the words died on the blonde man's lips.

"No?" he genuinely seemed surprised, "Because as you mentioned before, I am partial to –"

Again Severus fixed him with a cold, menacing stare.

"Lucius, I have no desire to let you within breathing space of any part of my body. Am I understood?"

"There's no need to be hasty –"

"The answer is no, and do not ask again", Severus muttered, easing himself back into step. It was a few moments before Lucius spoke again, his face sulky.

"Fine. Stick with Cissy then but just don't get her with child, one brat about the house is more than enough for my liking."

XXX