Assassins and Lovers

After what seemed like several minutes, Snape hastily pulled away from Fleur. She stared at him, perplexed for several seconds.

With a dramatic flourish, he peeled off his poisoned false lips and tossed them extravagantly onto the grass. "Au revoir, mademoiselle," he said coldly, eyeing her with contempt.

Fleur's chin began to quiver, and then she crumpled and fell smoothly onto the ground.

The deafening roar had abated, settling into an uneasy silence. Snape sighed and continued to stare at Fleur's fallen body. After a few seconds, it occurred to him to write on her hand. He knelt down beside her and took her hand, trying not to be too obviously tender with it. It was hard not to caress her soft, pale fingers--even paler than his--as he wrote, in narrow letters, "DEAD."

He stood up again, uncertain of what to do. Soon enough, Albus Dumbledore broke the silence. "Ladies and gentlemen, Hogwarts faculty and students, I present to you your Hogwarts Faculty Assassins Champion, Professor Severus Snape!"

Polite applause followed. "As a reward for his most excellent performance in this game, in which he was responsible for the murders of Professor Trelawney, Professor McGonagall, myself, and, as you all just witnessed, Professor Delacour, Professor Snape will receive one thousand Galleons and a week of vacation, during which time I will teach his classes!" This announcement was met with more enthusiastic cheering, probably because of the prospect of a week without him, Severus thought.

A few feet away on the grass, Fleur began to stir. Severus tried not to look at her, not wanting to meet her eyes after what he had shared with her. He could perhaps, he thought, have been less theatrical. He could have simply hexed her to the ground and refrained from that kissing nonsense.

But he had wanted to--so badly. He had taken advantage of the situation, but no one would ever know. Fleur would never find out that he could have resisted.

He left the Quidditch pitch as soon as Albus let him get away. He rather regretted that he no longer had an excuse for extreme antisocial behavior, but he retreated to his dungeons, anyway. He still had enough food to sustain himself through a siege, and there would be no need to come up for dinner.

-----

The usual seating arrangements at the High Table in the Great Hall were considerably altered that night, Albus Dumbledore noted. Sirius, who usually sat by Hermione, was all the way on the other end of the table, talking to Fleur. Hermione sat between Bill and Rachel, seeming a bit more distracted and less talkative than usual. More than once, Albus noticed her casting a glance in Sirius's direction. For his part, Sirius seemed absorbed enough, if a little quiet, and seemed conspicuously to avoid looking in Hermione's direction. Albus frowned. Even Bill Weasley had been by his office the day before, announcing his intention never to confess his feelings to Rachel Lancaster. Nothing seemed to be working out according to plan.

At least Minerva was still by his side. "Min, all that Quidditch playing has me in the mood for," he leaned in conspiratorially, "more games."

He smiled when he saw the joyful look on her face. His previous concerns were nothing compared to the little grin that crinkled the corners of her eyes and threatened to spread all across her stern face. "The usual place?"

"Of course... What do you think, maybe a round of Lord of the Rings Risk?"

"Albus, dear, what is that?"

Albus was momentarily startled by her affectionate language, but quickly recovered. "A new Muggle game I bought last week in London. Just like that game we used to play conquering the world, do you remember?"

"Ah, yes! Albus, that could take all night!"

He smiled. "I was rather hoping it would."

Her little smile spread out wider. "Me too, Albus, me too."

"I've rather missed our little late night games and plotting sessions," he said, spontaneously grasping her hand underneath the table. He somehow felt that he needed to touch her then. He felt her stiffen slightly and he momentarily panicked. Then she tentatively placed her other hand on top of his. Albus tried to make eye contact, but she stared nervously at her plate, blinking quickly as she slowly ran her fingers across his hand. If they had been alone, he would have taken her into his arms immediately, as he desperately desired to do.

Albus decided then that this dinner would be unusually short.

-----

Sirius Black was not quite as miserable as he had ever been, but he wasn't far from it. He was, first of all, separated from Hermione by several feet of table, and he wanted and needed nothing more than to talk to her and sort things out. She, however, seemed to be pointedly ignoring him. He carefully avoided looking in her direction; he didn't want her to feel harassed.

And Fleur, though usually fairly charming and talkative, seemed nearly as sulky as he. He supposed it might have something to do with her death earlier in the day, but it seemed a bit much to induce this kind of introversion. He hardly imagined that she had taken it that seriously. And yet, for whatever reason, she had hardly spoken throughout the meal, commenting only on the food.

Blunt as usual, Sirius went straight to the point. "Is something wrong, Fleur?"

She smiled slightly. "How... how kind of you to ask. Well," she paused. "I am distracted, yes. I got a letter today from my aunt. They do not expect my grandmother to live much longer."

Sirius shook his head in concern. "I am so sorry, Fleur. Will you be able to see her? Maybe you could ask Dumbledore for some time off?"

"I suppose I could ask," she reflected, "but I know it is against the policy of the school to give paid vacations to first year professors. And... and..." she stammered, "I need the money." Her cheeks flushed at this admission. "I would feel terribly guilty asking... And with Severus about to take a vacation, it would probably not be possible... That is... why I tried so hard to win the game."

"How I wish you had won."

"Do you so despise Severus?" Fleur asked.

Sirius laughed. "Not so much as I used to. Not so much as I pretend to. He is," he said, "an interesting man."

"I think he is fascinating," she replied.

-----

Though she hadn't heard any official confirmation of Bill and Rachel's couple status, Hermione definitely felt like an intruder, sitting between the two. Of course, it had hardly been her fault. They had come in separately, after Hermione, and had chosen to sit there. Nevertheless, they kept sneaking glances at one another, smiling and giggling, even, and finally engaging in a rousing conversation about some Egyptian thing that Hermione didn't understand in the slightest. It was, in fact, rather infuriating.

Of course, what burned more than anything was seeing Sirius at the other end of the table, looking at Fleur so... tenderly. And laughing! Well, if that kiss had meant anything to him, he had obviously moved on quickly enough. He hadn't so much as cast a glance in her direction all evening. Her worst suspicions were confirmed. He didn't actually care about her, not a bit. She was beginning to feel sick. Hermione took another bite or two of her food and quickly excused herself from the table.

If she had turned around, she would have seen Sirius's concerned eyes following her out the door. She did not look back.

-----

Victory was hollow, Severus Snape discovered, sitting in his dungeons feasting on his last can of mandarin oranges. He realized now that he hadn't ever really cared about winning--he had just been terribly afraid of losing, as if somehow he didn't know how to lose, how to face imperfection.

Was he kidding himself? He faced imperfection every day, looking in the mirror, watching himself with his students... even in brewing potions. He would have annihilated a student for putting rose petals in an Invisibility Potion before adding the shredded mandrake leaves, as he had done yesterday... Well, not that he would ever have any class but his NEWT class brewing that potion...

His life was going nowhere. He was glad he was about to get a vacation. It was well-earned, he thought. Maybe he would take the thousand Galleons and spend a week at a five star beach resort... or perhaps a tour of the Egyptian libraries would be good... yes, that would be perfect.

At least he had that... Somehow holding the titles of Hogwarts Faculty Quidditch Champion and Faculty Assassin Champion meant almost nothing. And the kiss with Delacour, he could see now, was not only not worth it, it was a complete mistake.

He had hoped to at least have something to hold onto, some sort of memory... it would, after all, probably be the last time he ever kissed a woman... But no, thinking back on it, it brought him no pleasure at all. He had used her, for one thing. And somehow knowing that she was surely repulsed by him the entire time took away any idea of... cherishing... the memory. No, that was impossible. He'd imposed himself on the woman, and he wanted nothing more than to forget it. It had been a childish thing to do, he realized... using that woman only for a kiss when she had so much more to offer. And she deserves so much better, he thought.

He was down to his last two oranges. It was certainly an insubstantial dinner, but it didn't really matter, anyway. He was a thin, greasy old man, and being well-nourished wasn't going to help much, anyway.

He heard a knock on the door. Sighing loudly, he got up and answered. He snorted when he saw who his visitor was.

"Black, what do you want?"

"Come now, Severus, I'm here for your own good."

Severus opened the door wider. "You might as well sit down if you're going to be here for a while."

"I think I will," Sirius said, plopping down on one of Severus's hard-backed chairs. "What a comfortable place you have here," he commented dryly.

"I do it for the ladies," Severus replied.

"Actually, that's why I came to talk to you."

Severus pressed his lips together and stared at Sirius. "I am not amused," he finally remarked.

"I had dinner tonight with Professor Delacour," Sirius began.

"And I suppose you fancy her and want to ask her out," Severus said. He sniffed. "Fair enough, any man might."

"Any man?" Sirius said slyly.

"Do you have any idea... of her... being attracted to you as well?" Severus had tensed up, and he wasn't sure why. If he could not be with Fleur, what did it matter if Sirius was? But he hoped this wasn't the case... and not just because it was Sirius. He sighed. "Of course she is," Severus finally added. "The girls always were."

Sirius simply stared at him for a few seconds. "No, no, you completely mistake me, Severus. It's not me she's after at all."

"Then who is it? Weasley? Filch? Dumbledore? I'm sorry, Black, I cannot give you any advice."

"Of course you can't. You're an absolute dunderhead when it comes to women, as you prove with each passing second."

"Thank you for rubbing it in."

Sirius laughed. "I'm just trying to help. Look, I'm not attracted to Fleur. She is not attracted to me."

"Then what, pray tell, is this about?"

"Severus, how do you feel about her?"

Severus glared at him. "She seems to be a very accomplished witch."

"That she is, but how do you feel about her?"

Severus stood up and turned his back to Sirius. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Look, Sev," Sirius said, "I was talking to her at dinner, and--"

"If she's angry about that kiss, I'd rather not know. I feel guilty enough as it is."

"Well, you couldn't help it--"

"Yes, I could have," Severus turned back around. "I'm one-eighth veela."

Sirius smirked. "You would never know it to look at you."

Severus glared at him. "I am well aware of that fact."

Sirius went on, "She might be... upset about it... but not for the reasons you think."

"Just say what you have to say."

"I would if you'd stop interrupting me!"

"Fine."

"I think Fleur Delacour is love with you."

Severus let out a heavy sigh, almost a huff. "This is some kind of a joke. It is not funny, Sirius. It is not funny."

"I'm completely serious."

"I don't trust you."

"Look, it's so obvious, as soon as she started talking about you, her little eyes sort of lit up. She said you were--get this--fascinating."

Severus sat down. This was a bit much to handle. "Well, of course I'm fascinating. I'm dark, brooding, and have billowing black robes. And I'm quite witty, too, in a cruel sort of way."

Picking up on Severus's sarcastic tone, Sirius started laughing. "You just don't know how true that is, Sev... you're not handsome or anything, but you've sort of... grown... into your nose... in a way."

Since when did Sirius Black call him "Sev"?

"Sirius, you leave me increasingly confounded."

"Is the concept of a woman being attracted to you so very unbelievable to you?"

"Yes."

"I think veelas have weird taste. She couldn't stop talking about how brilliant she thinks you are... it was the only time she seemed happy through the entire meal."

"She's sad?"

"Quite so. Her grandmother is dying."

"Oh, no," Severus said. "Oh, no."

"See, you do care about her."

"And what if I do? Nothing will come of it..."

"Well, let me get to my point. I think it would be a good idea for you to send her flowers or something... that might make her feel a little better. In fact, I'm sure she would feel a lot better if she knew you were thinking of her."

"Flowers, Sirius? Do women like that?"

"You really are quite clueless."

"Yes, yes... I never denied that. You'll have to help me."

"Oh, I'm afraid I'm not much help. You see, I'm rather incompetent with women, myself."

"Is that so?"

"Yes... if you had been to dinner, like a normal person, you would have noticed Hermione's conspicuous distance from me. Which is, of course, why I sat with Fleur."

"No, no, no, you're not pronouncing her name correctly, it's... Fleur," Severus said, with his perfect French accent.

Sirius laughed. "Yes, well, I still say you should send her flowers... apologize for winning, that sort of thing."

"That's true, I did win today," Severus said, looking back at Sirius, "more than one of Dumbledore's foolish games."

"You are the champion," he said flatly.

"Yes, I am," Severus said, nodding. "Sirius... thank you."

"You are welcome... things have changed, haven't they?"

"Indeed."

"Well, I should be going... Oh, by the way, could you ask Dumbledore to give Fleur some time off? She would like to see her grandmother again..."

"I will do that."

The two men shook hands, and Sirius left.

-----

Half an hour later, Severus found himself in the Forbidden Forest, staggering around the dark with nothing but his wand tip for light, looking for a patch of black roses he had found once while he was collecting supplies. This was completely insane... He heard a howling in the distance that sounded suspiciously like a werewolf.

He waved the wand around, trying to illuminate the almost pitch-black forest. Ah, there was something... a small patch of growth... He walked over to it. Beautiful, he thought... It was a large silver orchid. He carefully placed it in a vase he had carried with him and shone the wand around again. There! Only a hundred yards or so ahead, and the ground was almost clear all the way. Good thing he had such excellent vision...

He reached the roses and deftly clipped three of them. Now he needed one more flower... Severus headed back in the direction of the castle, hoping to spot something along the way. Just as he was about to reach the edge of the forest--and was beginning to think he might need to head back in--he caught sight of a small rose bush... sitting in front of Hagrid's hut. He walked up to it.

Ah, well, Severus thought, plucking a delicate dark red rosebud... he'll never notice.

-----

As soon as he got back to his dungeons, Severus arranged the flowers in a dark green vase--before he had the chance to realize what he was doing and back out.

He wrote out a short note:

To my most worthy victim:

Thank you for everything. You are an excellent duelist.

Yours,

Severus Snape.

Balancing it carefully, he walked to the kitchen.

-----

"Dobby," he said, calling over the eager house elf. "I need you to do me a favor. Take this," he said, holding out the bouquet, "to Professor Delacour's chambers."