Of Shadows and Swans

Severus Snape, leaning against a white marble pillar that separated Malfoy Manor from the backyard, folded his thin arms across his chest and studied the swans gliding on the ornamental pond. He then glared out of the shadow of the pillar at the verdant sweep of lawn in front of him, and the wedding preparations taking place on it.

Rows of chairs, rose-covered trellis, white aisle carpet....

Footsteps. Severus stiffened and darted a quick glance over his shoulder. A glint of pale blond hair, well-tailored black robes... ah. Lucius Malfoy. Severus allowed himself to relax, somewhat.

The footsteps stopped beside him.

Cordially: "Severus."

"Lucius."

"Have you seen Narcissa?"

Severus watched as a lawn chair accidentally flew into the pond. "No." He turned to face Lucius with a small, thin smile. "I thought it was the custom that a groom didn't see a bride before the wedding?"

"Oh yes," Lucius said absently, plucking at a wrinkle on his left sleeve. "My father's keen on that tradition. It's a relic from bygone days, when your parents picked your fiancé, and they didn't want you to bolt if she was a hag."

"I don't think Narcissa Black could ever be called a hag," Snape observed dryly.

Lucius smirked. "No indeed. Voted 'Most Beautiful Witch in Britain' in Witch Weekly this year. Unfortunately, she tied with some Mudblood named 'Evans' last year. Her parents were furious."

Severus felt an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. Dangerously quietly, he whispered, "I believe her last name is Potter now."

The whisper caused Lucius's eyebrows to arch and further caused him to change the subject. "Budge up a bit."

Severus did so, and Lucius leaned against the column with all the elegance and insouciance brought on by a pedigree whose length could put championship race horses to shame.

Lucius then pulled at his gloves. "Observe how these complete the ensemble. I notice you've yet to put on yours, Severus."

A corner of Severus's lip twitched. "I have never been particularly fashion- oriented."

"And the robes...?"

"Manipulation. You and your fiancé."

"Making Narcissa work before her wedding? Tsk, tsk. This merits some sort of punishment." Lucius calmly withdrew a black velvet box from his pocket. "Will you be so kind as to deliver it to my intended? I don't trust the house elves and if the other groomsmen aren't dressed." Severus accepted the box, and Lucius cleared his throat. "There's a note with the... contents. Make sure she reads it."

"A sonnet of admirable sentiments?"

"Malfoys don't write poetry," Lucius said crisply. "Follow the sound of giggling through the East Wing. I'm going back to get this sleeve fixed." He uneasily tugged at the fabric on his left arm.

------------

Severus was no man's servant.

However, he owed Lucius, who had become something of a patron and a protector.

When Lucius was at school, if Potter's gang attacked him, a harsh retribution would follow.

When Lucius was no longer at school, though, Potter and his gang of dimwits had redoubled their efforts and nearly killed him.

The memory of it tormented him, still, but it had taught him several things.

You couldn't trust people from other houses. They stuck to their own, against you.

You couldn't trust professors. They came from other houses, and trusted murders from their houses over you, even as you lay, near death, on your hospital bed.

You could only trust those in your house.

As Lucius had snarled, hauling up a terrified Potter by the collar, "Slytherins stick together. Attack one, and you attack us all."

As Narcissa had murmured prettily, as she covertly hexed her traitorous cousin, "Slytherins have only other Slytherins, Severus. Walk me to class."

And so Severus was, momentarily, a messenger.

A loud burst of giggling echoed down the hallway. Severus dutifully followed it until he came to a set of French doors, which opened to a light, airy room full of scantily-clad witches, dressing and gossiping. House elves and several fully-clothed witches were fixing up the bridesmaids' appearances and finishing their dresses.

It was almost dichotomous with the groomsmen's dressing room, which was ebony- paneled and dark. They'd been drinking Firewhisky and making lewd comments about wedding nights as several nervous tailors made adjustments to their dress robes.

Severus had felt... comfortable there. He felt like a trespasser here, like the awkward, dark first-year he'd been. Automatically, almost unconsciously, he moved into a shadow.

Bellatrix Lestrange was sitting near the door in her (skimpy) undergarments. She glanced over at him sharply. "No men here. Shoo, half-blood."

Severus, hand forced, stepped quietly out of the shadows. "Don't shoot the messenger bearing gifts." He took the velvet case out from underneath his arm and displayed it sardonically. "The groom sends both his compliments and, most likely, an ostentatious display of wealth."

A light ripple of laughter, followed by the appearance of Narcissa. Clad in a petticoat and dressing gown, she glided, swan-like, over to Severus and took the case. She looked up at him from underneath golden eyelashes, with a satisfied smile. "Thank you Severus."

Narcissa opened the case. Whatever was in it made light sparkle across her pale face. She was expensively beautiful: sapphire- colored eyes, platinum-blonde hair, ivory-pale skin, golden eyelashes....

Severus cleared his throat.

She lifted out a magnificent diamond necklace, blue eyes ablaze with the ecstasy of possession. A scrap of paper, with a few sentences in Lucius's handwriting, fluttered to the floor. Severus scanned it as Narcissa displayed her new treasure to the room.

My dearest N.-,

Do not be frightened by what you may see. Everything I do is for you and our future heirs. I know you will trust me and abide by my wishes in this matter.

Yours- L.

"Help me put it on?" Narcissa asked, with an excited quasi-innocence that beguiled. She swept back the curtain of her long, blonde hair, and turned. Severus took the necklace from her and fastened the silver clasp, hands resting on her neck a moment too long.

She let her hair fall again and turned to thank him with a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm not delivering that."

Narcissa laughed, delicately, eyes glittering at him in the knowledge of her beauty and its power. "That's for you. I gave Lucius cufflinks."

Bellatrix, who could probably hold her own in the groomsmen's insinuations, drawled, "You'll be giving something much pleasanter, tonight, too."

The witches actually cackled at that.

Deciding it was best to leave, he gave a short bow and a gesture at the note.

Severus went back into the shadows, avoiding the pure light that spilled into the hall.

----------

The wedding was perfect; the groom: classically handsome, the bride: swan-like in grace and elegance, the reception: festive in the best pure-blood manner.

The only problem surfaced at the reception, when Lucius and several of the other guests vanished for a half- hour and returned with a snake- like stranger. After the stranger vanished, Narcissa, with a brittle sort of beauty, pinned up her elaborate train and made Severus waltz with her.

They moved in silence, because Severus always moved noiselessly and Narcissa was distracted.

Eventually, from behind her painted smile, she whispered, "Do you know who that was?"

Severus, who was uncomfortable waltzing in public, quietly shook his head.

"It was Him."

Severus did not have the pure-blood ability to recognize capitalized, italicized pronouns.

"The Dark Lord. He's-" she shuddered "-Lord Voldemort." Narcissa quietly organized her thoughts. "He... took Lucius from me. Lucius has this... this mark." Narcissa slid her hand down from his shoulder to touch his left forearm. "Here." Unhappily, eyes downcast: "He was handsome, perfect before."

She slid her hand back up to his shoulder, in a graceful movement, like a swan straightening its neck. "It... I don't mind His politics. I just mind... He marred my husband. There's a part of Lucius that can't belong to me now, because it belongs to Him." Narcissa swept her gaze upward. "If He takes anything else that's mine, I don't know what I'll do. Bella used to do that when she was young, and I cried in front of my parents and she gave it back." Her eyes filled with tears. "Who do I cry to now?"

Severus took his hand off her waist to absent-mindedly rub a finger along his lower lip. He thought, 'Apparently me.' He said, slowly, as he put his hand back, "You've always reminded me of a swan. Swans are beautiful, elegant, fiercely territorial, and... mute."

Narcissa studied him and managed a twisted smile. "Sage advice."

"But," Severus continued, "They can break bones. And never forget- swans bite."

She was quiet, until the meaning clicked into place. "Thank you, Severus."

A final chord and the dance ended. Narcissa cupped his face in her hands and kissed his cheek.

She unpinned her train and glided off, taking Lucius's arm.

Narcissa gave her new husband a long, measured look, and Severus remembered:

Swans mate for life.