The Hypnotising Glare of a Cobra

Author's notes: Thanks to Dark Hamadryad from Perfect Imagination for her excellent editing.

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Chapter One - The Diary

April 17^th

It has come to my mind to keep a diary. I feel a need to record some recent events that I can't make head or tail of, and why not in this book?

He can't find out, of course. That would defeat the purpose. He's so secretive about his comings and goings, and I understand our relationship is not to be known. It bothers me. So, there is a ten-year difference. It's nothing to be ashamed of, in my opinion, and certainly not for him. But I think he's trying to intimidate me into being quiet against my will, for when I feel like bringing it up with him, he just gives me one of those looks with the black eyes of his, and I feel like fainting.

It has been such an odd affair. We meet silently for sex, but we speak sparingly, of mundane things. Perhaps it is vain of me to think he would have any interest in getting to know me.

I know he's bad news, but it's like I can't stop. I try not to think of the fact that he once was my teacher, seven years ago. Things are different now. I've prepared and delivered ingredients for his classes for six years, and although he ignored me for the first five, I think that counts as some sort of adult relationship.

I'm trying to understand why I keep seeing him. There's nothing romantic about our exchanges. I've heard about those silly women who like to be dominated, but I never thought I'd be one of them. I'm a Ravenclaw: a clever girl with a bright future. My parents would faint, I think, if I ever brought him to see them. Not that I would, of course. But I'm not a girl anymore. I'm a young woman in my prime, and I can do what I want, right?

There's a tiny voice at the back of my head, telling me to stop.

June 2^nd

School reunion was today. We were supposed to meet up at the Founder's Ball, and bloody expensive it was too, especially for an Apothecary's assistant like me, but I decided to go.

We were to meet briefly before the dinner started, at an inn in town, and I came early, having received some time off work to get ready. Besides, I was feeling a little bit excited. Would this be the time he would finally show himself with me in public?

There was a note left at the reception, there, for me, not from him. Written in a woman's hand, by the looks of it. Having about an hour to spare before his arrival, I sat down in the dingy lobby (his choice of place, not mine).

The note was very brief. "Do you really think he loves you?" it said. It was signed "Julia."

Who's Julia? I was fuming. Who was this girl who thought she knew all about my affairs? His wife? I left immediately, of course. And then I ran into him outside the music building where the ball was to be held: the Headmaster, him, and a woman on his arm. Julia. I was quite proud of myself then, to be able to walk past him, giving him only the barest of cold glances. Inside, however, I could not focus on anything but him and that woman standing at the opposite end of the room. Being among the first to arrive, which I had been trying to avoid in the first place, I felt terribly uncomfortable. In the end, I stole some nibbles and left, back to the place where I'd just been. He wasn't about to go there by the looks of it, it was closer than home, and I needed some peace and quiet. Why I didn't think of Apparating, I don't know. I've avoided it lately.

There, at the old inn just off Knockturn Alley, I sat down to gather my thoughts. Maybe it was better to be free, I thought, not to be involved in some sordid affair. And then he came.

I showed him the note, and I will admit it took some courage to do so because he looked sour as hell. "Bloody, meddling woman," he snarled, and I was cold and fuming. I just looked at him, knowing I needed to say nothing. "My cousin Julia," he said, "likes to stir up trouble."

"I'm still feeling nauseous in the mornings," I said then. The nibbles had brought it to mind. I had asked him for a potion to end my pregnancy, knowing that if I prepared one for myself at work there would be trouble. These potions are expensive, even to make. "You said it was the after-effects of the potion, but it's been going on for weeks now."

"Perhaps you should think twice before asking a Slytherin for a potion," he replied coolly and my insides turned to ice. Why had he given me a faulty potion? To be cruel?

"I'll need a new potion, then," I said. "The fumes I've been exposed to at work are not for pregnant women. There will be damage." And I shuddered, thinking of the misshapen lump in my belly, soon to be expelled.

"I'll tell Julia to get one for you;" he said and continued acidly, "in fact, she'll be very happy to. She so likes to get ... involved."

"How very practical for you," I replied. "But you making it would be the decent thing."

He just looked at me, then, calmly. "I'm very busy right now," he said. Fury flared up within me and abolished the cold.

"Never mind, I'll get it," I said. "I'm by no means destitute."

July 19^th

I've met Julia. She waited for me outside my house today, and asked if she could have a word. There was no doubt about whom the conversation concerned.

"He wants an heir," she said and snorted. "So his brilliance can carry on through generations. Personally, I think it's the worst sort of nonsense I've heard in a long time."

"Through me?" I asked, and was surprised. Don't Slytherins go for Slytherins? And wouldn't he prefer a pure-blood? I know of his ambitions, his involvements. One would be blind not to realise. I think it pleases him that I fear him.

"Why ever not? You're a half-blood, certainly, but I must assume you're clever and good with a wand. Have you ever thought his choice of women might not be that extensive?"

I suppose not. Most women aren't fools, like me. It's like my mind isn't strong enough to resist whatever it is he's doing to me. I suppose I was drawn in. He's so different from everyone, powerful and mercilessly intelligent. And when he looks at me, it's like I'm falling into a tunnel. It's a curious feeling, like being eaten by a snake. I just can't look away.

"Well, Aniara, I've warned you," Julia said, her mouth a thin line. "There's nothing more I can do, and at least I've relieved my own conscience. It's in your hands, now."

October 4^th

I'm pregnant again. Damn those useless cheap potions! He's offered to marry me. Not in a romantic way, of course - it's not in his nature. "We'll marry," he said. "The child is to have my name, and you shall move in with me."

So that's that. Why can I never say 'no' to him? Suddenly, everything is moving so fast, too fast. My career is gone; I'm to stay home with a child instead. And all I do is sit there, entranced and a little bit afraid.

When I remained quiet, he continued, "You can continue your career when you've raised the child. St. Mungo's never takes on young Healer apprentices anyway. And you already have five or six years of work experience. I'll sort out some references for you."

I suppose it's kind of him, to do that. I didn't expect him to.

December 13^th

So, we're married. I didn't really imagine getting married like this; it was so dull, signing a few scrolls, and having a small meal with the close family afterwards. My parents looked like they'd just been to a funeral. Needless to say, the food vanished quickly and the elf-made wine was nearly untouched. Severus kept the bottles.

January 1^st

I've finished work now, and I think I'll miss it a lot. I tried to put on a cheerful face as I left, though. I don't want them to feel sorry for me. I'm happy to have a baby, but I worry about how life will be for us. At least we'll be together. I look forward to meeting this little person so much. Severus does too, in his own way. He keeps looking at my belly as if he expects it to burst out into conversation at any moment.

I haven't heard from my parents since the wedding. The owls return with my letters unopened.

March 26^th

This house drives me mad. It's old, and it smells, and I just sit here, staring at the walls. I'm not supposed to Apparate while I'm pregnant, and Severus hardly ever comes here. Julia visits occasionally, and gives me pitying looks. She has helped me decorate the nursery, and she knew some clever charms to get rid of the persistent old grime in the kitchen and bathroom. But the carpets are still old, and the air is stale. I tried to read some books, but I'm so tired all the time. It's like the baby is eating me up from within. I hate this house.

March 31^st

Severus brought me a potion today. Apparently, Julia told him I looked pale. I wanted to ask him about trusting Slytherins with potions, but I didn't dare. His eyes thinned anyway. I think he can read my mind.

July 10^th

My baby is small, thin and black-haired, and he just eats and eats. This strange little creature is not what I thought he would be. He ate me up from within and now he continues from without. I once thought of throwing him out the window. Severus, who was visiting at the time, gave me one of his looks, and now Julia stays with me most days. She's paying someone to run her shop in Diagon Alley for her. Severus is here most nights. His presence isn't comforting; in fact, he glares at me most of the time. I spend my days trying not to cry.

I wish I could just leave my baby here and run away, but I can't. Who will take care of him if I go?

I can't write anymore now. They watch me all the time, and I want to protect this book from their eyes. It's my pretence of privacy. He reads my mind all the time, now, his black eyes boring into mine.

I am eaten.

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Author's notes: Aniara, written by Nobel laureate Harry Martinson, poses the question why humans have a tendency to use their enormous intelligence to do evil or damage. The idea of a soul being eaten when it isn't, is taken from Ursula K. LeGuin's The Tombs of Atuan.