Outside in the grounds, the scent of autumn was on the breeze that gently caressed the hair of the couple who made their way down towards the edge of the forest.
Severus hadn't meant to lead them that way. In fact, as soon as they were out of the Carrows sight he had planned to disengage himself and return to the office.
It had been by chance that he had seen the wand, and thinking that it wasn't ideal to let her wonder about the unpredictable corridors without one, he'd gone to seek her out.
He wasn't sure what the Carrows were up to but he trusted them about as far as he could throw them.
Now, he found himself walking with Cassandra, her grip on his arm unyielding as if she too had sensed the danger of the encounter and was clinging to him for safety. There was more to it though, not that he cared to admit it, but there was something in walking with her, to feel needed, wanted, when not a single other soul alive would desire his company.
Their steps had led them to the forest, though he had debated taking her to the Owlery as suggested.
However, the route would have taken them by the greenhouses, and he couldn't quite bear the thought of running into Pomona with her contemptuous gaze, and the way those shrewd eyes of hers would pass more judgement on him, and in turn, Cassandra for her trusting grip on his forearm. No, it was better to head towards the forest where the chances of coming across someone was much less likely.
Cassie was unaware of her hold on him - her mind too occupied by the approaching trees, the call of the birds above and the growing excitement at what she might see.
She wished she had taken Caladrius with her – to see him fly above the rugged landscape, so different from the home she had known before. Still, there was tomorrow… if she managed to get through the feast tonight. That would be a test, the hundreds of eyes on her, their curious gaze…
"Are you cold?" Severus enquired as the woman beside him shivered.
"No. No. I'm just erm- I'm- I'm a little tired," she finished lamely.
"You woke early."
"I always do."
"Really?" he asked, an eyebrow arching in surprise.
"Yes. The birds awake early. It's my job to see to the peacocks and check the feeders, and I-" Cassie came to a sudden stop, and the corners of her mouth turned down with the realization. "I mean, I saw to them."
Severus made no reply, unable to think of an encouraging response, though he wanted to be able to. He also felt guilt for his past judgement of her – the expectations that she would laze in bed, idle and listless.
Her use of the past tense shifted the atmosphere and her grip on him loosened.
Dropping her arm before she had the chance to drop his, Severus continued to lead the way down the bank to the approaching line of trees.
Cassandra halted with him as they reached the edge of the forest where the lush lawn gave way to the rich soil of the forest floor.
They stood together on the very fringe, like two swimmers staring out into the ocean - preparing to take a plunge.
And then Severus stepped backwards. "It is not a good idea."
"What isn't?" Cassie enquired, looking up at him in surprise.
"To go in. The forest is dangerous, especially now," Severus replied.
"Oh," Cassie murmured.
"And you are not equipped to deal with such dangers."
Severus took in the sudden painful flush of her cheeks, those grey eyes of her flashing over with shock.
"I am only being truthful," he intoned, a flicker of annoyance at the new stab of guilt he felt at her reaction to his words.
For a moment, Cassie didn't reply, her eyes searching the man beside her face for signs. Did he know? Was this his way of telling her? His expression was inscrutable though. She erred on the side of caution and gave a small nod, turning her face to the trees to hide her own expression, wishing that she could be as unreadable as he was.
That's when she saw it, far between the trees and high in the canopy - the flash of crimson, the clap of wings.
"What was that?" Cassie murmured.
"What?"
"Did you not see it?"
"See what?"
"A bird, I think… it must have been… I've never seen such plumage though."
"There are many birds in the forest," Severus intoned with a shrug, but deep within he felt something - the look of excitement in her eyes, that sheen of pleasure across her face - it moved him.
It was dangerous, he knew it, and he tried to supress it.
"I must return to my office,"
"Oh," Cassie replied, tearing her eyes away from the forest and turning them to Severus.
Was she disappointed? He thought with disbelief. Did she actually want him to stay? As he asked himself these questions Cassie was asking herself the same - the disappointment she felt that he was leaving surprising her and she realised that she had enjoyed their exchange, even if it had been somewhat stilted. It was a novelty for her to speak with anyone other than her family, but she felt that there was more to it than that. She had a feeling of safety in his company, it could be a false sense of security, but in that moment, she believed it.
"I wish you might stay, or let me return with you."
He gazed down at her with a frown. Was this a plot? Was she hoping to eavesdrop on what he was up to? He wished he didn't have to be so suspicious; he wished his self-criticism would allow him to believe it was true that she would desire his company.
"Why?" he intoned.
"I don't want to… I don't want to be alone here."
"The students will be here soon enough."
"I don't want to be without you."
He knew she didn't mean it as desire. His intelligent mind had quickly realised that this was a fear of the judgement of others. She had been Miss Cassandra Malfoy – heiress and envy of so many, and now she was just Mrs Snape.
"You may return to the chamber for the day, if you wish, but you must stay out of the office itself… Though I do expect you to get familiar with the school, you are in no danger here… The Carrows though-" he paused working out how best to phrase it, "I would appreciate you informing me if you find their behaviour… over familiar."
"They said that they and I were friends," Cassie murmured.
"Are you?"
"I haven't met them before… I do not want to be their friend."
Severus made no reply, his gaze searching her face for signs of deceit, but yet again he came up empty.
"Good. Let us return then," he intoned, turning his back to her, the arm he wished to offer staying firmly to his side.
The afternoon wore on, a slow inevitable tick of minutes.
All was quiet within the bedroom, and any sound from the office beyond was imperceptible.
Cassie blinked heavily again, the book she had been reading on potions slipping from her hand. She didn't want to sleep, she needed to stay alert, but she couldn't focus on the words.
If only she could find something more diverting, perhaps then she could stave off her exhaustion, but the chamber seemed devoid of fiction.
She wondered if he did read, if he had a secret collection of outlandish tales that might tell her more about him – that might unravel the enigma.
Her own books she had left behind, the idea of needing to fill hours of boredom not occurring to her at the time of packing.
In fact, there was only one book that she had brought from home.
Her eyes flickered over to the drawer, the one where she had seen it fly out and land the night before at his command.
Biting her lip, she considered it, it was bound to keep her awake, the fear of being discovered with it would naturally keep her alert, and there was a part of her, a secret part which wanted to see it again.
Her thighs shifted together as she slipped from the bed and gingerly crossed the floor to retrieve it. Pulling the drawer open she found it waiting for her, then, making her way to the bed she climbed onto the covers and let the pages fall open.
It opened at the same moving illustration her aunt had insisted she looked at the first time she had seen it
Her gaze took in the image again - the naked bodies, the parted lips, the repeated penetration of flesh.
A deep sense of heady shame filled Cassandra. What was she doing? This wasn't right! It was one thing to look at such pages for instruction on survival and expectations. It was quite another to choose to seek out the sinful lessons it explained - this was not how she should behave.
Cassie snapped the book shut, and lay back, closing her eyes briefly, just a moments rest and then she would hide the book again, perhaps get rid of it altogether, burn it or send it by owl back to her aunt…
On the other side of the panel, Severus sat at the desk, his head wearily resting in his hands, listening to the rantings of the painting on the wall above him.
"Darkness! Pure darkness!" Phineas Nigellus Black complained again. "To be taken from the wall of my family home, a place where I have resided for over a century! It was the mudblood who thought of it, I'm sure!"
"Do not use that word," Severus intoned. Black was right though, he thought. Inevitably it was Granger who would have understood the danger. He wondered at what point in the day they had got hold of The Prophet and discovered the news of his appointment. He imagined the three of them at that kitchen table, heads bent together, sneering down at his portrait on the front page. Had they been to that bedroom yet? Had they seen the carnage he had committed in his desperate attempt to find some memento of her?
Unconsciously his fingers grazed the pocket of his robes where the torn photograph and the letter still resided.
"I wonder," the portrait of Dumbledore mused, "If they are making plans to leave - if they have secured you so. It is a pity you do not know your location-"
"A bag!" Phineas interrupted. "I'm in a bag!"
"You said you were in pure darkness."
"Yes, but I still have wit to understand that I have been placed, most unceremoniously, within a handbag!"
"This may prove useful, Severus, if they leave Phineas perhaps will be able to listen for their location. It is imperative we find a way to reunite Harry with the sword. But for now, I believe the students must be about to arrive and you have a school to address and are in need of time to steel yourself for the reunion."
With a reluctant nod, Severus trailed his eyes across to the replica of the sword on the wall, and then sighing got to his feet.
Turning to the panel, he vaguely wondered how Cassandra had entertained herself that afternoon.
Cassie was dreaming... she was dreaming she was on an unknown bed. She could feel a crimson and gold coverlet beneath her naked back - the way it slipped through her fingers as she tried to grasp it with her free hand. Her other hand gripped his forearm, fingers splayed, as he leant over her. "You do not need to please me," he whispered in her dream as a mewl of pleasure escaped her lips. There was an unfamiliar pressure building in her, like a spring winding tighter and tighter. What was causing it? Oh yes, his fingers, they were between her thighs, stroking unrelentingly at her crux, awakening something she hadn't realised was possible - and the spring was tightening further.
In the bedroom at Hogwarts, Severus pulled open the panel and stepped through into the darkness.
With a wave of his hand the sconces flared up.
He half expected to find Cassandra standing there again, but she wasn't, and his searching gaze found her on the bed, her eyes closed.
For a moment, he stood watching her, he both envied her ability to drift off and felt relief that she was able to. He was struck once more by her innocence, and something else – her loveliness.
He'd have to wake her of course; it was time to prepare for the feast but he could afford to let her sleep a little longer. She seemed to be stirring anyway, he thought, as her head turned on the pillow with a soft sigh.
He crossed to the dresser, to check his appearance, knowing that he wouldn't like what he found there but determined to try and look like he wasn't a man on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Running a critical eyes across his features, he frowned, and then his gaze was caught by the reflection of the bed behind.
Cassandra was moving, her knees parting, her breathing growing erratic.
A nightmare, he thought, and before he knew what he was doing he had crossed the room, ready to waken her from her suffering.
His hand reached down, clasping on her shoulder to shake her awake... and then she cried out.
It was not the scream of fright, or a whimper of despair.
No.
It was a moan of unmistakable pleasure.
Severus froze, his eyes flickering to the door he had failed to shut, the portraits would be hearing this and they would be drawing their own conclusions.
Beneath his grip her body suddenly jolted, causing him to toppled forward slightly and his hand to slip down from her shoulder to land on one of her breasts.
The woman beneath him stilled, her eyes flickering open.
This was enough to break him from his shock and he stepped backwards - colliding with the bedside cabinet which wobbled in protest.
"What-what happened?" Cassie asked, her confused gaze on him as he quickly straightened up.
"I was trying to wake you, you were moving about I-" he wasn't going to admit to it, it was too embarrassing to confess the accidental touch, she might think he had purposefully violated her.
"I was dreaming," Cassie murmured.
"About?"
She blinked back at him, the dream returning to her in vignettes, and with them the sensations she had felt and who she had been dreaming of.
Flushing red, Cassie looked away from the dark gaze, those same eyes which she had been dreaming of just moment ago, as she desperately thought for an answer.
"The roc," she lied.
"The roc?"
"Yes. The bird. It's the biggest in the world."
"I'm aware of what the roc is... You were dreaming of it?" he asked, a strong note of disbelief to his tone.
"Yes. Did you know they can carry elephants?"
"I had heard something to that fact."
She was obviously lying. He could tell from her tone. So, she did know what she had been dreaming of - but whom had her afternoon imaginings summoned up? A sudden sensation came over him - a twisting flicker of jealousy that he was both ashamed of and confused by. It mixed headily with his physical reaction to the memory of her moan and the brief feel of her hardened nipple beneath his palm… Had it been hard? Merlin! was his mind now inventing falsities to unsettle him even more?
It was just a dream, Cassie thought, and one couldn't help one's dreams, and after all, she was married to him even if that was just in name - there was no sin in it. It had been her brain. Her subconscious - no doubt, stirred into overaction after she had been looking at- Oh, Merlin, the book! Where was it?
Severus watched her as she suddenly got to her knees, her hands rummaging within the sheets, until they stilled and she sighed out with relief.
"What is it?" he enquired.
"I thought I had lost my book," she murmured, subtly positioning the now recovered volume behind her back.
However, it was not subtle enough though to escape the notice of Severus Snape - who took in the blank blood-red cover.
"You were reading?"
"Obviously," she murmured, shuffling off the bed and crossing to the drawers and quickly stuffing the book into a crevice of the top one.
Turning back, she kept her eyes to the floor, wishing she wasn't flushing - but painfully aware that she was and that her new husband was watching her curiously. "Is it time for the feast?" she enquired lightly.
"Yes," Severus replied after a pause. "I will leave you to prepare yourself."
She watched him go and then exhaled in relief, before crossing back to the drawers to select something understated to wear, dismissing from her mind the dream and what it might mean.
Time sped up in the vexing way it tends to do whenever we long for it to slow, and soon enough the couple found themselves descending the great staircase into the empty entrance hall.
At the double doors of the Great Hall, Severus paused and looked across at Cassandra.
Under normal circumstances, protocol would dictate that he would offer her his arm. They would enter together and he would lead her to her seat - that's what happened at dinners held by those of her society. But he couldn't bring himself to do that, it would make too much a spectacle of them both, he couldn't take the whispers and the possible sniggering.
Part of him wished he could just have said 'bugger them all', taken her arm and steered her away and had dinner delivered to their bedroom so they could eat in peace. Their bedroom? He was already thinking of it as their? He stole another look at her, she was obviously getting under his skin - she seemed so ingenuous, so innocent - and so afraid and he felt again that stir of pity and desire to protect her.
She was his wife, his responsibility - however much he hadn't wanted it, that was still the case. She was too good for any of this, too guileless. What would happen to her should his secret be discovered? He wondered. Would they punish her for not realising? Would they hurt her because they would think she had known? He didn't want this. He hadn't wanted any of this and now he felt responsible for her - this fragile doll in her navy dress robes, a doll that looked like she might shatter at any second.
Her eyes were fixed on the door, fear in them evident.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I-I don't like large groups... I'm not used to them."
He felt the urge to comfort her, to tell her he was the same, to reassure her that she was in no danger - that no one on the other side of that door would dare to hurt her even if they felt so inclined, that they were more likely to pity her than anything, but he didn't. He couldn't afford to show weakness and he couldn't find the words he needed... and despite her seeming appearance, she might scoff at him... even laugh at him.
"Follow me."
She obeyed, trailing after him as they entered the hall.
He led the way through the silent students. His stride purposeful and she had to hurry to keep pace. She wanted to keep her head down but there was also someone she wanted to see.
Up at the top table, the staff were watching in silence too, their eyes on the young woman.
"So?" Minerva whispered out the side of her mouth. "Is she the Cassandra you were thinking of?"
"I believe so," Horace murmured back, his lips barely moving, "Oh yes. See! It must be."
"See what?" Minerva asked.
"Did you not see what happened?"
"No, what?"
"Thrice-welcome, drowned Viola."
"What?!"
But Horace made no reply, that brain of his slowly mulling over what he had just witnessed, seemingly unperceived by the others... He had seen it though he was sure, the young woman's eyes had flickered across, magnetically pulled perhaps by sibling bond, her gaze momentarily locking with the pale young man who was watching her so intently, and then there was that almost imperceptible shake of her head. Some secret message between brother and sister, and whatever it was, despite the utter misery of the boy's constant countenance, there had been the twinge of relief in his eyes. What was going on? Horace wondered, and what had brought this unhappy girl to be Severus' bride?
The headmaster and his new bride took their seats, and with a wave of his hand the food appeared.
Internally, Severus breathed out in relief. He'd been half-afraid that the elves wouldn't obey him, or they would have protested in their own way with a bland offering – but no, the feast was here and it was the usual extravagant fare, though he had no stomach for it.
The meal went on. The silence slowly giving way to a low rumble of mutterings and whispers, but nothing like the rowdy joyful reunion of previous years.
Across at the Slytherin table, Blaise Zabini put down his fork with a sigh, and glanced again at the greyish profile of his neighbour.
Sighing again, Blaise reached into the pockets of his robes and retrieved the battered paperback he carried and opened it.
"Do you have to read that thing so openly?" Draco muttered.
"It's just a story book, Draco, it's not going to bite you," Blaise drawled, pointedly turning a page.
"People are staring!"
"I thought you'd be glad that my reading choices would stop them all gawping at you, mate."
"People will get the wrong idea!" Draco hissed back.
"Whom? The Gryffindors? Do you think they might invite me to join Potter's Army or whatever scheme they are all muttering to each other about."
Draco looked over at the far table, his eyes drawn to the fiery locks of Ginny Weasley whose head was bent conspiratorially towards Longbottom's. They looked up, seemingly aware they were being watched and Draco quickly glowered back down at his plate. "No... but, the Carrows... you don't want to attract their anger."
"What the fuck are they going to do to me?"
"Burn that book of yours for a start!"
Blaise shrugged lazily, "I have it memorised anyway... My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make -"
"Stop it!" Draco hissed.
"What are you so afraid of? That your innocent little brain will get corrupted by the words of a Muggle writer and you'll start feeling sympathy for them?"
"This isn't a joke, Blaise! It's not a game! The Carrows and Snape are... I've seen what they can do... I've seen what they are capable of, and you're sitting there reading Muggle stuff! You're playing with fiendfyre!"
Blaise closed his copy of Great Expectations with a slow exhale. "I know it's not a game, Draco. I saw what happened on the train, and I can see your poor sister sitting up there looking like the Grim's curled up at her feet. It's sick what is going on and it's sick she's been used like this. Go and speak to her."
Draco glanced up at the top table and then looked quickly away. "She won't want anyone to speak with her."
"She keeps looking over at you," Blaise replied.
"She'll understand. I don't want to make this worse."
"Worse how?!"
"Everyone knowing that she's my sister."
"I'm pretty sure by the end of the feast everyone will know. I heard Heliotrope telling her carriage about it on the train."
"She what?!" Draco spat, spinning to glare down the table at the girl who had been watching him with adoring eyes.
He glowered at her and she lifted her hand to wave at him.
In defeat he let out an exhale of frustration and turned away. "I can't look anywhere. On one side of got her watching my every move and on the other side Parkinson!"
Blaise turned to meet the eye of Pansy, who sat several seats to their left. She flushed and quickly looked away.
"Oh, it must be hell having two girls fighting for your attention, Draco. I really feel for you, mate."
"You're welcome to both of them."
"No thanks, neither are my type... Your sister on the other hand..."
Draco's head snapped up and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Don't you dare talk about my sister!"
"Is that why your father wouldn't let her come to Hogwarts?" Blaise asked. "Afraid she'd meet undesirable boys like me?"
"Don't you dare presume anything about my family! And don't talk about my- What are you doing?!" Draco asked as with a sigh Blaise got to his feet.
"Well, if I can't speak about her, I'm going to speak to her."
"Don't you Da- Blaise!"
But it was too late, Blaise was already purposely walking.
At the table, Severus watched the boy make his approach curiously.
Zabini wasn't the type to wish to curry favour, Nott would have, or Parkinson perhaps - laying on the sycophantic act, but not Zabini, and yet, here he was.
Severus opened his mouth to address the boy but before he could Blaise purposely turned his back to him and faced Cassandra.
"Miss Malfoy,"
"Mr Zabini," she murmured - as surprised as Severus by him addressing her.
"I hope you are as well as you can be considering the circumstances," Blaise said, his tone warm and respectful.
Cassie blinked in surprise, her eyes quickly shifting between Severus and Blaise, painfully aware that the others at the table were also listening. "I-erm- I am quite well," she stammered, nervously fingering the stem of her half-empty wine goblet.
"Good, I'm glad to hear it, Miss Malfoy. My mother sends her regards to you and said that she is always at your service."
A seat or so down, two of the staff were watching the exchange intently.
"What's going on?" Minerva hissed from the corner of her mouth.
"I think," Slughorn murmured back, "that Mr Zabini just threatened the new headmaster."
"What?!"
"I'm surprised as you are, Minerva... But repeatedly referring to Severus' bride by her maiden name, and then offering the help of his mother who has a whispered reputation for eliminating men who dare to cross her - seems to send a clear enough signal."
"Has the boy got a death wish?!"
"Perhaps he feels he is untouchable."
"Well, he isn't!"
Along the table Severus watched the retreating back of the boy who returned to his seat with a louche air which made Severus fingers itch.
He'd been half wondering if there would be insurrection, if some red trimmed fool would try and make a stand. What he hadn't been expecting was Blaise Zabini of all people to threaten his life in front of his colleagues and in such a way that Severus couldn't really respond.
He'd been preparing to make his speech, an opening address to warn them all to behave – for their good as much as anything, but he now felt discombobulated. Zabini, of all people! He glowered across at the Slytherin table to where the insolent boy had returned to his seat, but Blaise's eyes were not on him but fixed on Cassandra. Severus felt his teeth grit, and then Blaise's gaze flickered to meet his and the young man lifted one side of that oh so perfectly proportioned mouth – a smirk? A sneer? It was hard to tell.
"The speech, Headmaster," Amycus murmured from his position on the other side of Severus, and with reluctance the headmaster had to be the first to break eye contact with his student.
An hour later, Cassie sat at the small mirror he had provided for her, rhythmically brushing out her hair. It was soothing to her, a reminder of childhood, the way her mother's hand had once lovingly coaxed the knots out.
She'd got through her first day here, her first feast and no one seemed any the wiser, no one seemed to doubt her. But it was one day out of how many? A lifetime perhaps, a lifetime of pretending. She wished she could have spoken to Draco, to have embraced him, but she knew it had been wiser for him to stay away. Perhaps tomorrow she could speak with him.
Severus watched her, his gaze following the brush.
He felt that the speech had been a disaster - Longbottom and Weasley loudly talking to each other throughout; the soft mutterings from the other table as he laid out the new plans and rules; the coughing from the staff at repeated intervals; the way the Carrows had been exchanging significant looks, and when he had in desperation looked at the Slytherins – a place on normal occasions he could have been expected to find support – his gaze kept landing on Zabini and the way the young man's stare was pointedly fixed on Cassandra.
Severus was on some level jealous. He didn't like to admit it, but he was, and it sickened him. What was this? He demanded of himself. He was not in love with his bride, he didn't long for her, and yet, when he'd caught Zabini watching her that familiar feeling had returned, an echo of the past – the memory of Potter's eyes on her, before Lily had fallen for his charms.
It was stress, that was all, he told himself. The duality of his role causing him to relive past traumas, weakening him and making him susceptible – and he could not afford to be weak, not now, not ever. And yet…
"Do you know Mrs Zabini well?" Severus suddenly intoned.
Cassie's eyes shifted to the reflection behind hers in the mirror.
"No," she replied softly, continuing her brushing. "I've never met her."
"But you know Mr Zabini well?"
She paused and put down the brush, there was something in his tone, the edge of bitterness. Did he really think he was in danger? "He is a good friend of my brother's."
"So, you have known him a long time?"
"No. Not until last Christmas. He came to stay for a few days in the holidays. He was worried about Draco... We all were."
Severus knew what she was referring to - the unspoken task of the previous year, the mission her brother had been set.
"How much do you know about that?" he asked.
"I know that you made the unbreakable vow with my mother to protect him. Thank you for that... I don't know if any of my family has thanked you, but whatever your underlying reasons for-"
"What underlying reasons?" Severus interrupted.
Cassie turned slowly on the stool. She could lie - pretend that he had misheard, but she knew him too clever for that and she didn't want to lie. Her whole life was built on them and she didn't want to add more, for once she wanted to be honest. "To usurp my father's position in the Death Eaters, amongst other things..."
"What other things?"
"To possess me."
Severus stared, taken aback by the directness of her response.
"Is it true?" Cassie pushed. "Did you want to possess me?"
"Did you drink at the feast?"
"A little," she admitted.
"I assumed so..." Severus replied pointedly, and then sighed. "I did what I did to protect your brother. That is the truth. Not for personal gain... It was indeed a privilege to bring about the death of Albus Dumbledore, but I didn't do it for the honours it has brought me."
Cassie bit her lip. This conversation, she wasn't sure where it was going… She felt she was swimming into uncharted depths where a current might pull her violently away, but she couldn't help but push on. "You think it is an honour to have married me?"
"Plenty would consider it so," Severus monotoned.
"But do you?"
"Why do you wish to know?
"Because I can't make you out," Cassie admitted.
"The feeling is mutual," he replied, his tone suddenly icy. Why was she trying to work him out? What was she trying to uncover? What game exactly was she playing? The unsettled feeling from the feast came back to him, and suspicion mixed with exhaustion heightened his irritation.
Avoidance was what Cassie sort, avoidance from whatever had upset him, which is why she said the following… "You promised me an elf."
If she had hoped to jolt him from his mood, she knew instantly that she had failed as his expression visibly darkened. "Why do you need one?"
His tone struck fear in her. He couldn't go back on his word, she had to have one. "You promised me!"
"That is not an answer."
"Well, I'm not a student and you are not my professor!"
"And yet," he spat, "You are behaving like one."
What was this? What had she done to cause him to act so? "Why did you ask me about Blaise?"
"Blaise - is it now?" Severus sneered.
"Are you afraid I might try and poison you?"
"You would be foolish to attempt to. Why do you need a house elf?"
"Because," she retorted, her frustration giving way to anger, "I'm a spoiled pampered child who has never learnt to do anything for herself!"
"You were eavesdropping?!"
"No! but that is what you are thinking! Isn't it? You promised me an elf."
"You do not need one."
"Yes, I do!"
"For what?!" he snapped. "To fix your hair and fetch and carry? That is not your life now, Cassandra. You are not Miss Malfoy anymore, despite what your friends may call you. You are Mrs Snape and Mrs Snapes do not sit about on silk cushions while others do their bidding! The elves here see to the laundry, cleaning and the meals which is more than any Mrs Snape before you has had. I'm not indulging this!"
"Why?" she cried, as he turned dismissively away. "Because Blaise Zabini threatened your life? So now I must pay the price?"
"The price of what?" he retorted, turning back to her. "To have to lift your wand for once?! To mutter the simplest of spells?! Perhaps your Society is impressed with such laziness but it doesn't impress me! Though I think there might be another reason why you desire one, is there, Cassandra?"
He glowered down at her and then the memory of the book returned to him, the blank cover, the way she had attempted to hide it from him… and he saw it with new light, and dark possibilities reared up his mind. It was a note book, no doubt, where she was jotting down everything she witnessed and heard. Perhaps, it was enchanted so that Auntie Bella could write back in its twin and give her niece instructions on who to speak to next and what to look for. The elf was just another way for her to conduct her spying – giving access to places where she could not go without raising suspicion.
"Summon that book for me," he demanded, he tone now dangerously soft.
"What book?" Cassie asked in confusion.
"The one you tried so desperately to hide from me this afternoon."
He watched her with cold satisfaction as she blanched. "It's just a book," Cassie murmured.
"Of what?"
"Ursula and the Unicorn and other tales. It's just a very old version it belonged to my great great great great grandmother who was also called Ursula."
"That Ursula Black died in 1913," Severus intoned. "Miss Bulstrode didn't have her educational tales for young witches published in book form until 1915."
How did he know that? It wasn't fair that he knew that!
"You know what I think?" Severus hissed. "I think you are spying on me, passing messages to your aunt. Hoping to find fault in the way I am performing my role here so that you can avenge your family's disgrace that you hold me responsible for!"
"No!" Cassie protested, "No I'm not!
"Summon the book, Cassandra."
She froze - fight or flight an impossibility.
"Summon it now!" Severus demanded.
Her hand grazed her pocket, and then with trembling fingers she took out the wand it contained.
Severus watched her, his gaze unrelenting.
He had been weak and foolish - charmed by her seeming innocence and pretty ways, but that book would reveal all.
He would think about what to do about her espionage later, but for the moment getting the proof was what was needed.
Cassie stalled.
Her eyes now wide with fright – desperately searching his own for leniency. The confession was on the tip of her tongue, her lips trembling as she held it there.
And then a gong rang out in the office - a low mournful sound that echoed through to the bedchamber.
"What is that?" Cassie asked.
"Someone is wishing to speak with me," Severus huffed, and then reluctantly he turned towards the panel. "This conversation is not over, Cassandra. You will summon that book on my return."
She watched him leave, the panel snapping shut behind him and then she jumped to her feet.
Forcing her trembling footsteps across to the armoire she pulled open the drawer.
With shaking hands, she retrieved the book from its resting place and then forced herself back to the stool of the dressing table.
She looked despairingly at the wand she gripped in one hand and the volume she held in the other. Both led to utter humiliation but weighing them up there was no contest of which was the better secret for Severus Snape to uncover, and with that in mind she shoved the wand back into her pocket.
All too soon the panel of the door reopened, and Severus strode in.
He looked down at her, and a flash of triumph appeared in his eyes as he took in what she held.
Clicking his fingers, he held out his hand for it.
She had never felt so small, so embarrassed, and yet she had no choice but to comply.
Placing the book in his palm, she took in the grim satisfied curve of his lips.
"Now, we will see, won't we?" He intoned, as he opened the book with a flourish...