Snape In Love: Chasing Darkness Away

Chapter 14

Celebration

Ella sat in the nursing chair in Persephone's bedroom, looking out of the window while her baby, tired at last of play, suckled contentedly at her breast. The lake's surface was as still as a millpond and reflected the mountains and foothills as if it were a mirror. There was no wind, but high cloud obscured the sun and made the sky glare white. Ella remembered their picnic of the day before and their precious time alone afterwards, and smiled fondly, touching the emerald at her breast. Severus had reminded her of how much she had enjoyed herself that December day in Diagon Alley with Tonks. The young Auror had proved to be entertaining company, but at the end of the day her heart had leapt to see Severus again. As he had stood outlined in the doorway to the snug of the Leaky Cauldron she had felt him calling to her on some visceral level, and it had taken all of her will not to launch herself at him and insist he take her home at once, or at least somewhere private. She smiled at the memory of his effect on her, realising that she would still want to react that way.

"Mirror Mirabilis!" she murmured, and looked into the swirling grey shadows in the stone, watching them coalesce to the black that was her husband's frock coat. She tilted the emerald towards the window, the better to see him. He had disappeared into the Potions classroom an hour before, in order to do an inventory of the contents of the students' store cupboards and ensure that everything was ready for the start of the academic year the following week. He held a long scroll of parchment in his left hand and Ella watched as he trailed long white fingers along a shelf, darting his eyes from the scroll to the shelf and back again before looking irritated and crossing to his desk to annotate the parchment with an angry flourish. Ella smiled ruefully and turned her attention to her baby.

"Come on, little you! I think your father needs me."

Persephone obliged, and once Ella had winded and changed her she was ready for a nap. Ella laid her in her cot and performed a simple Monitoring charm, so that she would know when Persephone awoke. Then, she slipped out quietly and went through their rooms until she reached her husband's office and the classroom beyond.

Severus was nowhere to be seen, but she heard the scraping of cauldrons coming from his private store room, and called to him.

"Severus? Can I help with anything?"

He stalked out of the store room, his mouth set into a thin line and his arms stiff at his sides.

"Only if you can explain how it is that bubotuber pus has been allowed to corrode no less than three of the training cauldrons in the student's cupboard!" he snapped.

"You know I can't, love," she said mildly. "Perhaps one of the students, at the end of last term..."

He rolled his eyes and said sarcastically,

"And here I was, thinking it was me! Well, yes, obviously it was a student! I'd like to bet it was Creevey, he is incapable of using the simplest of cleaning spells, and even his skill with a cloth and a sink of water leaves much to be desired!"

Ella did not comment, knowing Creevey to be a particularly trying student as far as her husband was concerned. Instead, she did the one thing that was guaranteed to mollify him. She walked up to him and stood before him, reaching up to cup his cheek with her hand and stroke the side of his mouth with her thumb. He took her in his arms then and bent his head down to brush his lips over hers. She slipped her arms around his back and felt the tension in him ease as he relaxed into her embrace, and she smiled as he tangled his fingers in her hair. After a while, he gathered her closer and she buried her face in him, nuzzling the buttons of his tightly buttoned frock coat.

"How do you do that?" he mused, his voice rumbling low in his chest . "I think I'll need your help in class this coming year. You can stand over there during lessons, and every time I feel the need to hex somebody, I'll kiss you instead. Do you think the Board of Governors will give you a stipend for that?"

Ella squeezed his waist and laughed.

"I think I'd pay them to allow me to do it! Now come on, let's get on with this. If we finish it today we'll have the rest of the week free to do whatever you like."

"You know what I like!"

"- And while we work, you can remind me about what a wonderful Christmas we had."

************************************************************

He assumed that there had been happy Christmases in his childhood, but looking back from adulthood, when the bitter memories of so many miserable mockeries of goodwill had coloured his judgement and skewed his recollections, he could remember only a handful with anything approaching fond nostalgia. He was sure his parents had not always been cold, for even as he grew into a young adult there had been moments when he had felt a swell of pride in their approval; but such occasions had been brief, and fleeting, and one of his most persistent memories was of his younger brother's first Christmas, when Snape had first realised that he was no longer the centre of his parents' world. As an adult, it sometimes seemed that each Christmas had been worse than the one before, since as he grew older the friendships and familial and marital ties that he saw all around him grew stronger, while he remained alone.

Now, as Snape saw Ella waiting for him in the welcoming snug of the Leaky Cauldron, he put such memories from his mind and drank in the sight of her. The warm glow of gaslight cast dancing shadows on the wall behind her, and tinged her hair red, and made her eyes sparkle. He barely noticed as Tonks stood up hurriedly and almost fell over her chair in her efforts to greet him, because he was too busy advancing towards Ella. He sat down beside her and took her hand, gazing into her eyes and murmuring in a low voice,

"Did you have an enjoyable day?"

Ella's eyes dropped to his mouth as he spoke, and when she met his gaze once more his throat constricted.

"Yes, love, I did...even though you weren't there."

"Ah, so I'm not indispensable? How disappointing," he mocked.

"I didn't say that!" she smiled, and he wanted to kiss her but the bar was very crowded and he could see Tonks grinning inanely at the edge of his peripheral vision. He sat back in his seat and took a draught of the butterbeer Tonks had obligingly ordered.

"Any problems, Tonks?" he asked briskly.

"No, she behaved herself perfectly!" Tonks grinned, earning an amused snort from Ella and a hard stare from Snape. "No, Snape, I didn't notice anything unusual going on. The Ministry hasn't had any intelligence, and besides, there won't be much Death Eater activity this time of year. Not when half their wives are coming here every day to do their Christmas shopping."

Snape was unconvinced and glared at her, but she simply shrugged and finished her mug of butterbeer.

"Gotta go. See you soon, Ella!"

"I hope so, Tonks. Thanks for today."

"Any time." Tonks stood, taking especial care not to overturn her chair this time. She edged past Snape and whispered conspiratorially, "I hope you got her something nice, Snape!" making a hasty exit before Snape could turn round and reply.

"How soon can we go home?" Ella was leaning into him and her hand was resting lightly on his knee. He turned and her face was inches from his, her lips parted and her eyes boring into him. He wanted to wrap himself around her, absorb her, possess her, ravish her. The Leaky Cauldron had never felt so inhibiting or claustrophobic.

"Would now be too soon?" he replied hoarsely, and she stroked along his thigh and stood up, gathering her cloak from the back of her chair. He helped her with it, gazing deeply into her eyes as he fastened the clasp at her throat, and they made for a quiet corner of the bar where he enfolded her in his arms at last, and they Apparated home.

As soon as they had appeared outside the main gates to the school, he took her face in his hands and bent down to kiss her. She had evidently been as desperate for his embrace as he had been for hers, for her answering passion made him breathless, and despite the cold, which had been made even fiercer by premature dusk, her fingers had begun to unfasten his cloak so that her hands could search for the waistband of his trousers. He had been eager to return them both to the womblike comfort of his rooms, where they could draw the curtains around their bed and shut the rest of the world out while they compensated one another for the hours they had spent apart, but Ella appeared to have other, more immediate, ideas. He groaned as he felt her light touch linger over the bulge that strained for release and relief, and he walked her backwards until her back was pressed into the corner formed by one of the two stone gateposts and the high perimeter wall that abutted it.

"You do know what you've started, don't you?" he growled.

"Yes! Yes, I know!" she gasped, planting feverish kisses over his face while her hands fluttered around his waistband.

"Then you know I will not be denied now?"

"Oh, gods, Severus! I want you! Seeing you enter the bar before, everything else just seemed to disappear and all I could think of was how good it was to see you!"

His head was spinning. Her desire for him never ceased to astound him, and he seized on it with a fervour that quickened her breath and made her clutch at his clothing and pull him even closer. He reached into her cloak and hitched up her long skirt, exposing her bare legs, white in the cold twilight. He slid his chill fingers between her parted thighs, slipping them under her briefs to feel molten heat there already, and she let out a sob of need for him. He looked down at her and lifted his fingers to his mouth, sucking her from them.

"I missed your taste, Ella..." he murmured seductively. "I missed your touch..." he continued, hissing as her hand freed him at last and her own icy fingers encircled his shaft, "And most of all, I missed this..."

He lifted her up then and used his body to press her into the wall, and then let her slide slowly down. The contrast between the frigid evening air and the incredible wet heat that was Ella was almost his undoing, but he bit his bottom lip and held still while they both adjusted to the sensations of tightness and fullness, wetness and hardness, ice and fire. Their breath whirled all around them, whipped away by gusts of frosty wind that held the promise of snow. Twilight darkened her eyes and the flush of her cheeks to shades of grey and blue, but he saw fire there and he could smell the musky flame of her desire fan upward from her core as the persistent breeze sought its own shelter in her skirts. Slowly he began to move, holding her up against the wall with his arms. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him and he groaned as her trembling hands tangled in his hair keeping his face close to hers.

"Severus, oh Severus, yes, yes, oh love, oh Severus, don't stop, oh gods, Severus, Severus!"

Her body shuddered uncontrollably as he held her in his arms, and he buried his face in her neck to muffle his own cries. Once it was over he did not move, his body still pinning her to the wall while he struggled to catch his breath, the icy evening fog burning his lungs. Her trembling hands stilled in his hair and he knew she had recovered sufficiently to stand, so he released her with a sigh, feeling the frosty air blow a chill across the slickness of his penis. Once he was certain that Ella's clothing was in order, he fastened his trousers and his cloak.

"Can you walk?" he asked, raising an eyebrow enquiringly.

Ella smiled languidly and took his lapel, pulling him to her so that she could bestow a long, lingering kiss.

"Mmm," she said as she released him. "I still feel a little wobbly, can't imagine why..."

"Well, if we stay here much longer we'll get caught in the snow. And I have plans for us tonight, indoors!"

"Why didn't you say so?" she teased, pushing him away before grasping his hand and pulling him along after her through the gates, back to Hogwarts and the shelter of their curtained bed.

Two days later, he almost lost her.

***

Ella and Hermione had been reorganising his store cupboard after the debacle that was Sirius Black's stewardship, and had decided to go to the Forbidden Forest to replenish his stock of firecracker weeds. He was a little uneasy, but he knew approximately where the plant was to be found and was satisfied that they would not need to venture in too far. Unbeknownst to Ella, he was going to begin work on enchanting the emerald pendant while she was gone, so that on her return, while she slept in the next room, he would be able to use the warmth of her proximity to complete the necessary spells.

"Make sure you look out for hidden tree roots and snakes," he had said dryly, "since I won't be in the forest to rescue you this time." And then he had kissed her deeply, inhaling her scent until he was drunk on it, absorbing it into himself so that he could keep a small part of her with him. An idle fancy, he knew, but such was her effect on him.

Later, when he had heard Hagrid's booming voice penetrate its panic even as far as the dungeons, the fear that overwhelmed him drove every memory of her physical presence from his mind, and filled it instead with gnawing, aching dread. He had run blindly to the Entrance Hall to find Dumbledore, Lupin, Black and Potter already there, and looked from one to the other uncomprehendingly as they turned their stricken faces to him.

"What? What's happened? Is it Ella? Well, is it Ella?"

"Ella and Hermione, Severus," said Lupin. "Malfoy was in the forest, he's abducted them."

"What?"

"We must go now. Take us to the place they disappeared, Hagrid," instructed the Headmaster, a tightness in his voice all that betrayed his inner tension.

They ran until Snape had a stitch in his side and Dumbledore was quite red in the face. Precious minutes were wasted as they recovered, and Snape would have urged them on if only he could have caught his breath. It was Lupin who found the Portkey, recognising it instantly as such and not touching it until all of them were gathered around it.

They arrived on a desolate plateau and found themselves imprisoned in a silvery hemisphere. It was obviously a trap, but all concerned knew that there had been no choice other than to walk into it. The ward was powerful, but so was Albus Dumbledore and he set to work trying to counteract it. Snape saw at once that Ella was still alive and thanked the Fates for it, but all that he could do was wait and watch while Voldemort did what he would with her. He cursed under his breath and decided on a plan of attack. He would remove the snake, Voldemort's faithful, ferocious pet. He could not allow Nagini to attack Ella, her venom would kill her instantly and there would be no bringing her back. And he would not lose her.

Suddenly the ward was breached, and he set off at a run, wand arm outstretched. He only got as far as

"Avada - " when he heard Ella yell,

"Expelliarmus!" and his own wand flew from his hand straight into hers. The force of her spell threw him backwards and he lay on his back for a moment, winded. He stared at her in disbelief but everything was happening too fast for her to acknowledge his anger.

"Harry, call off the snake!" Hermione yelled, as Voldemort turned to Ella and used Cruciatus, making her double over in pain. She lay on the ground, clutching her stomach, and turned her head to check that Snape was all right. He was concerned for her, knowing only too well Voldemort's skill with Unforgivables, but he simply could not comprehend her treacherous behaviour and his eyes were on fire with rage. He would extract a full explanation from her if they managed to get out of there alive, and he hoped that she would have a damned good reason for her actions.

Nagini had turned towards Harry and cocked her huge head to one side as he spoke to her. At the same time Hermione and Lupin had managed to petrify Malfoy and Wormtail who now lay stiffly on the ground. Enraged, Voldemort was surrounded by Dumbledore, Black, Lupin and Harry who were all pointing their wands at him, preventing him from reviving his Death Eaters.

Snape got to his feet shakily while Hermione half dragged Ella over to him. He snatched back his wand angrily. Now was neither the time for explanations nor for tearful reunions, however much he might deserve one and crave the other.

He took his place with the others, behind Potter who was by now facing Voldemort once more. This time Potter had a little experience behind him in the shape of four powerful wizards; or rather, he corrected himself grimly, two powerful wizards alongside the mediocre Lupin and Black. Arcs of golden and silver flame spurted from each wand, forming a single incandescent ball of fire that, eventually, consumed the Dark Lord and sent his essence circling around their heads in impotent rage before it disappeared with a rumble, along with Nagini, into a fissure in the rock.

When the rumbling stopped, all was quiet. The roiling clouds had disappeared to reveal endless white sky. There was no sun, and no shadow, but it was over, and Ella was safe. He caught her as she sank to her knees, enfolding her in his embrace, stroking her hair as she began to sob hysterically with relief. Gods, his heart was full. How had he come to love her so very much that he thought it would break simply because she was crying?

"I hope you can explain your behaviour just now," he murmured, trying to keep his emotions in check by remembering his anger and resorting to a most justifiable sternness.

"We can explain everything!" insisted Hermione, "But first we need to get out of here. Look, it's degrading again, we don't have much time!"

Dumbledore took out of his robes a large knitted tea cosy and summoned them all to stand around him, along with the immobile bodies of Pettigrew and Malfoy. When everybody was touching the tea cosy, he said firmly, "Hogwarts hospital wing!"

Snape sat on the floor of the Infirmary with Ella in his arms. She was still weeping and shaking uncontrollably and his mind was racing as he tried to imagine the depravities that Voldemort could have inflicted upon her to cause her so much trauma. Poppy Pomfrey was her usual over-zealous self, and he had to speak to her sharply when she tried to prise Ella's weeping form from his arms.

"Get off, woman, can't you see she's hysterical?" he snapped, glaring at Madam Pomfrey unpleasantly.

"She needs to be moved. I need to examine her."

"No, what she needs is to be left to me. Leave her!"

He would not let her go. He found, in fact, that he could not. He could no more free her from his embrace and allow her into someone else's care than he could stop loving her.

Eventually, after murmuring quiet words of encouragement into her hair, Snape helped Ella to her feet and then scooped her up in his arms, carrying her over to the nearest bed, where he sat down in the chair beside it, holding her closely to him on his lap. She curled up in his arms and buried her face in his neck with a shuddering sigh as she wound her arms tightly around it. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, thankful that she was safe. He opened all his senses to her, letting her scent soothe him, her small sniffs reassure him, her weight across his legs anchor him. He looked down at her face and kissed the salt tears from her cheek, and he let out a ragged breath as he accepted at last that all was well; all was well for she was safe, and she was his.

Soon afterwards, Madam Pomfrey bustled across with a sleeping draught for Ella. Snape took it from her and spoke to Ella softly. Not once had she emerged in all the time they had been sitting there, but now she released her vice-like grip on his neck and he was able to look down into her eyes. Her face was tear-stained and swollen, but her eyes shone clear green from red-rimmed lids. She needed him desperately, and she had never been more beautiful.

"Drink this, love. It'll help you sleep." Her brows knitted a little and she tried to edge closer to him. "I'll stay with you, I'll be here all the time," he assured her, brushing her forehead lightly with his lips. She took the potion, and only when her eyelids drooped in sleep did they break their gaze.

Snape held her for a long time while she slept, going over and over the day's events in his mind and unable to fathom her behaviour. At length, once his arms' protestations were too insistent to be ignored any longer, he laid her on the narrow hospital bed and climbed on beside her, holding her close as she had done him only weeks before.

He knew beyond any shadow of doubt that no matter what she said to explain her behaviour, he would love her. He was overwhelmed with that emotion, and he had never felt so weak, so helpless, and so desperately needy. He was in her thrall, devoted and disarmed, and he had gone willingly. And yet, at the same time, he felt more powerful, and more potent, than he had done in years. She brought out the best in him, he felt. He could protect her and from now on keep her safe, and care for her always. Thus comforted, he drew her closer to him, and slept.

The next day had been an ordeal for them both. Ella's physical condition was good, but her experience had left her tearful and nervous, and Snape wished that he could simply take her back to his rooms and help her to forget. He had long suspected his role in her family's deaths, had been convinced that he remembered the encounter, but to hear recounted how Voldemort had so graphically illustrated it for her made his stomach churn with fear. How could she still care for him now, knowing what he was? Her need for his physical closeness was apparent, and he was glad of it for otherwise he would have been frantic for some sign of how she felt. As it was, he held her and comforted her, and she nestled into his strength. Later that day, when he was parted from her so that Minister Fudge could irritate him for a few hours, he paced Dumbledore's office like a caged animal, desperate to escape to Ella. And then later, when finally they were alone and he could claim her for his own once more, he cried bitter tears of regret that she simply kissed away.

He could not comprehend the extent of her love for him. Even though he knew his for her to be more than its equal, still he scarcely believed it. She had seen him die. She had been shown proof that he had orphaned her, then she had seen him die, and she had grieved and was grieving still. For his death, not her family's. He did not deserve her, he was certain of that, and he would do everything within his power to ensure that he went to his grave still trying to make amends.

***

Term ended, and the school was blissfully quiet. Most of the students went home for the holidays, thankfully, and many of the staff spent at least part of the break away from the school visiting family. This year was no exception in that respect. In every other way, however, Snape knew that the holiday could not be more different, because this year he had Ella.

Finding the time to work on enchanting her emerald had been difficult, particularly since the episode with Voldemort had left her unwilling to let him out of her sight. He exulted in her dependence on him and even encouraged it by pandering to her every whim, since that way he could ensure that she would not leave him. Manipulative, he knew, but then he was Head of Slytherin House, and not above stooping to a little psychology when it suited his purpose. And besides, he was merely ensuring that their relationship was balanced. It would not do for her to depend on him less than he depended on her.

A few days before Christmas, and several days later than Mister Gemthewer had promised, much to Snape's annoyance, a large parcel arrived via owl post. He explained to Ella that the package was from an apothecary in Knockturn Alley, and that it contained several restricted substances that he needed to process and decant that day. He lied with the practised ease of a seasoned dissembler and felt no shame in it, for he was deceiving her for her own good. She accepted what he told her without question and agreed to take a walk around the grounds with Lupin instead of spending the morning with him, so he accompanied her to the Entrance Hall and took her face in his hands for a searching, scorching kiss as he bade her goodbye. Slightly dazed, she left on the werewolf's arm, and he smirked to see her looking back over her shoulder as she descended the steps into the snow.

Snape carried the memory of that kiss back with him to the dungeons and went straight to the locked store cupboard where the emerald pendant was hidden. He needed to perform one of the spells while the chemicals in his body still churned at her taste. He placed the jewel on his work bench and took out his wand, holding it to his heart and his temple as he recited various spells. Then he placed the tip of the wand to the stone and began the final incantation. Power surged around him, a magical breeze lifting his long black locks and whipping them across his face while a low thrumming began to pulse through him. Purple light suffused the green of the emerald, coiling from the tip of the wand around and then into the depths of the jewel, and he bent his head in willing surrender of himself and his independence to Ella. Once all the spells had been performed, she would be able to look into the emerald and see him, no matter where he was or what he was doing. He hoped she would realise how precious a gift he was giving her, for he was offering up to her himself and everything he ever did from now on.

The light faded, and the emerald glowed brilliant green once more. Snape sighed and mopped his brow, then turned his attention to the package from Gemthewer. The black lacquered box was exactly as he had specified it should be, and he was more than satisfied with the execution of his raven and serpent design. A small pouch contained three further boxes, one containing a pair of elaborate emerald earrings, one an exquisite emerald ring with which he would propose marriage, and the other, which he opened with trembling hands while swallowing nervously, a pair of platinum and emerald wedding bands. He took them out and examined them closely. Gemthewer was well deserving of his reputation. The ouroboros, one slightly thicker than the other but identical in every other way, circled into themselves, swallowing their tails, their emerald eyes all-knowing.

Snape replaced the rings and the earrings in the pouch, and concealed them at the back of the store cupboard, locking it carefully. He would give Ella the pendant and hope that her reaction to it was all that he prayed it would be, and then he would wait for a suitable opportunity to ask her to be his wife. Thrilled and terrified at the prospect, he concealed the emerald in his breast pocket and set off in search of her.

***

Christmas Day surpassed all his expectations and in the dark weeks that followed it shone like a blazing beacon, a bittersweet reminder of all that he had loved and lost.

He had awoken that morning to the exquisite sensation of Ella's tongue dipping in and out of his navel before working its way lower. He could manage no more than a sleepy

"Mmph? Aah, mmm," and he stroked Ella's hair, tangling his fingers in it. He arched his back, his sleep-fuddled mind trying to process the sensations as his body sang its bliss.

"Oh, Gods, Ella!"

Time seemed to hold its breath as he climaxed, and once she had released him let out a ragged gasp, as did he, so that before he knew it her mouth covered his and her full length covered him. She felt wonderful, and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Merry Christmas, Severus" she said, and he smiled softly, winding a lock of her hair around his fingers.

"Why, was that my present?" he asked.

"No! But look around you."

His eyes widened in surprise as he took it all in. She had decorated his room while he slept. He had already noticed the huge garland of mistletoe above the bed, but as he looked around he saw that she had festooned the walls and ceiling with hundreds of small white lights, which he assumed represented the night sky. Boughs of holly and garlands of ivy had been arranged around the mantel, and a huge Christmas tree stood by the door, decorated all in blue velvet and crystal. Her colours, he noted with a rueful sigh.

"It's very...festive," he said uncertainly. "Er...I never usually bother."

"Well, I'd sort of guessed that!" she said with a wry smile. "But do you approve?"

"On the whole...yes. The mistletoe's a nice touch, but not really necessary..." He kissed her deeply, to prove his point. "I got you a present!" he added with a frown, suddenly nervous. "I hope you like it."

He felt as if her acceptance of him, and of all that he had to offer, hinged on her reaction to this gift. All at once his confidence in his own good taste wavered, and he wondered whether or not his choice of gift would be acceptable. Women were notoriously fickle creatures, and the giving of such a meaningful present was not something in which he was well versed.

She slid off him so that he could get up, and he crossed the room to his dresser, opening the top drawer and taking out the parcel he had secreted there the day before. Passing the tree, he did not feel it politic to comment on its colours, so instead settled for a raised eyebrow, to which she simply smiled happily.

He jumped back into bed and handed her the package, saying hesitantly,

"I enchanted it myself."

She took it from him and tore open the wrapping to reveal the small black lacquered box, inlaid with the intertwined serpent and raven design. He hoped the weight of symbolism would not be lost on her.

"It's beautiful!" she breathed. So far, so good.

"Open it!" he urged.

Inside was the emerald, on its thick chain of solid gold.

"Oh, Severus!"

She certainly seemed to like it, and the tight knot in his stomach unravelled a little as he urged her to look more closely.

"Mirror mirabilis!" he said as he passed his hand over it, and she peered into its depths curiously.

"What is this?"

"It's- well, it's like a magic mirror," he explained. "I know how fond you are of Muggle literature, and I thought you'd be able to relate to that fairy story about the girl who for some inconceivable reason falls in love with a beast and saves him from himself. He gave her a magic mirror too."

"You aren't a beast, Severus. You never were."

So trusting, and so accepting. Despite all that she knew of him, still she saw only the best in him. He would work hard to ensure that she never changed her opinion. There were things she could never be allowed to know.

"That's a moot point, Ella," he murmured. "Anyway, whenever you pass your hand on it and say the correct incantation, you'll be able to see me. Wherever I am, whatever I'm doing."

She looked at him incredulously.

"You mean I'll be able to spy on you?"

"I prefer to think of it as watching over me," he replied seriously. Her face crumpled and she snaked her arm around his neck and drew him to her.

"Thank you..."

Her kiss was so tender and so searching, and he sank into it, drowning happily in her love, knowing that he had done well. It was quite evident, too, that she understood the significance of the gift, for one so private as he.

Too soon, she pulled away from him, and said,

"I have something for you too. It's under the tree."

"Ah yes, the Ravenclaw themed tree!" he said acerbically, so relieved that his gift had been well received that he felt much more comfortable reverting to type than he had done a few minutes earlier. "Oh well, at least the tree itself is green!"

With another quick kiss, she practically vaulted off the bed and eagerly fetched his present. He was in no particular hurry to open it, even though he was curious to see what it was, because he was still basking in her happiness and feeling particularly smug. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he began to unwrap it methodically, making Ella bounce up and down on the bed impatiently.

"Come on, Severus, it'll soon be next Christmas!"

"I want to savour this," he said, teasing gently. "A gift from the woman I love is something to be treasured, right from the outset. And that includes unwrapping it!"

He stole a quick glance at her, enjoying her frustration at his slowness and the small exertion of power over her that it signified. He adored her, but that did not mean he wished to relinquish all control to her.

When the wrapping finally fell off, however, he forgot all about his carefully maintained façade. He was lost for words. He simply looked at it, ran his long fingers over it, turned it this way and that, and then set it down on the bed. It was a sculpture, and he knew without asking that the two figures that comprised it, one of black marble and one of deep blue lapis, represented him and Ella. The figures stood face to face, entwined.

"It's beautiful," he whispered huskily, and he enfolded her in his arms, kissing her so deeply that they both had to catch their breath when she finally broke off to take his face in her hands.

"Severus, I need to show you something. Come on over to the fire, I'll put it on the table."

He sat in the old leather chair, and Ella knelt at his feet on the rug, one hand on each of the two figurines that made up the piece.

"Vivat!"

His eyes widened in amazement as he watched colour flood through both figures until they had become perfect miniatures of the two of them, kissing, embracing, dancing, moving around one another with a fluid grace that was almost like music.

He gaped at it, open-mouthed.

"Do you like it?"

"Beyond words," was all the reply he could make.

After a few minutes, the charm wore off and the two figures, the blue and the black, were still once more, this time locked in a close embrace. Snape sat back in his chair with a sigh, looking at her in wonderment. He was amazed.

"Where on earth did you find it? I've never seen anything like it before."

"It was from an old friend. I owled him to tell him what I wanted, and when I got it, I enchanted it myself."

"An old friend?" he said, tensing with jealousy.

"Yes, a Muggle, but a very talented one. I met him in Italy, years ago."

"Hmph."

"What?"

"Is he an ex?"

"No! Good grief, he must be ninety by now! I was working for a gallery, saw some of his work. It was beautiful. Haunting. I asked to meet him, and he told me his life story! We became great friends, and

he told me the most romantic story I'd ever heard. Till ours, of course!"

He looked at her doubtfully. He did not subscribe to the popular notion of romance as being an ideal to which he should aspire. Nevertheless, her story intrigued him, and he was keen to know the provenance of such an astounding gift.

"He married young, and he and his wife were everything to each other," Ella continued. "He was your typical struggling artist type, they were penniless, but it didn't matter. He would sculpt her, all the time, nothing but her. Then she became ill, and there was no cure. When she died, he was lost. Helpless."

He shivered. He could well imagine how desolate his life would be without Ella. If he had known loneliness before, it would pale into nothing in comparison to the emptiness he would feel if he ever lost her. He stroked her bare shoulder, needing to touch her and reassure himself that she was real, and she leaned into his touch as she spoke on.

"He was surrounded by memories of her and he threw himself into creating a life-sized sculpture of her, the ultimate celebration of their love. It was his greatest ever work, and he described what happened as a miracle. Well, I suppose it was."

"Why, what happened?" he asked curiously.

"The stone came to life one day, he said. He had his love back, for a little while. Now, I don't know if it was some latent magical ability he had, which his grief tapped into, or even whether it was her ghost, or just his imagination, but he swears it happened. And it gave him the strength to carry on. So when I wanted a symbol of our love, I couldn't think of a better person to go to."

She had climbed into his lap as she spoke, and his arms encircled her waist, pulling her close so that he could bury his face between her breasts. He could not bear to look into her eyes, his emotions were too strong, too raw, too frightening for him to confront their reflection in her eyes. She kissed the top of his head as she stroked his hair, and he knew beyond any doubt that she understood.

"I just don't know what to say," he murmured.

They sat in a loving, contemplative silence for a long time. Snape loved holding her in his arms, and when she held him in such a way that his face could nuzzle into the deep valley of her breasts he could think of only one activity he enjoyed more. However, he was about to suggest that they return to their bed to indulge in that very activity when she suddenly scrambled to her feet and ran to the bathroom, heaving. He followed her and held her shoulders as she bent over the sink.

"Ella, what on earth...are you alright?"

"Mmph- fine- I'm fine. Water."

He poured a glass and hovered uncertainly at her side. He had no idea what had caused this and was concerned that her ordeal at Voldemort's hands had been more severe than even he had feared.

"I was just- nervous. Nervous about my present to you," she explained.

"And you made yourself feel sick? Good grief, what sort of an ogre do you take me for? As if I could be anything less than entranced...Ella, it's wonderful, it really is! Wait here!" he finished, and strode out of the bathroom purposefully. He felt much better now that she had enlightened him, and he had a potion that was guaranteed to make her feel better. Later on, as they breakfasted on smoked salmon and scrambled eggs before the fire, he congratulated himself on his skill and the comfort it brought him to know incontrovertibly that he had the power to make her well.

The morning and most of the afternoon of that perfect day passed in a flash. They spent much of the time poring over a new book of spells, lying on their stomachs before the fire, and Snape felt more contented than he had ever been. They read together in companionable silence, grunts of assent the only form of communication necessary to indicate that they were ready for the pages to be turned. Occasionally one or other of them would comment on the merits or otherwise of a particular incantation and its practical application, but otherwise they simply bent their heads together and wallowed in their mutual enjoyment. The sole interruption to their concentration was the large box of Honeyduke's Best Chocolates, a gift for them both from Albus Dumbledore, which lay beside them enticingly and served as a rather indulgent luncheon.

"We should get dressed," Snape suggested eventually.

"And why is that?"

"Because we ought to show our faces to our...friends...and wish them a merry Christmas. And because snowballing on the front lawn is an old Hogwarts tradition."

"Well, I didn't think you admitted to having any friends, and I certainly didn't think that you ever did something because it was the sociable thing to do!" Ella laughed, rolling over on to her back and untying her dressing gown wantonly. "Besides, you haven't been sociable enough with me yet!"

The firelight cast dancing shadows over her naked form, and he watched it play in her eyes. He pushed the forgotten spell book to one side and leaned over to kiss her, letting his hair fall over her cheeks. He parried her tongue with his and groaned as hers teased its way into his mouth, sucking on it gently and licking it with his own. He shifted position until he looked down at her, resting on one elbow so that his free hand could caress her satiny skin. He stroked her full breasts and she arched into his hand, whimpering with need as his hand travelled lower to brush against her dampened curls. She was always so responsive, he mused, and the simple truth of her insatiable desire for him never ceased to amaze him. He found it difficult to believe that anyone could find him so irresistible, particularly someone as shining as she. He shivered suddenly, feeling cold foreboding dance across his back. He knew he could not bear to lose her now. Not now, not ever.

"Ella..." he breathed as her legs parted and he felt her wetness, aching to feel her wrapped around him. As if she knew what he was thinking, she pulled the bed sheet from his waist, loosening it so that it fell away, and he wound her leg around his hip, slipping inside with a shuddering sigh. Each pulled the other as close as they could, and so it began; arching, rocking, caressing, tasting, sharing, loving. He moved on top of her now, her hair spread out all around her and her eyes almost as black as his in the firelight, and he exulted in the look in her eyes and the incoherence of her moans, but then she was saying his name, over and over, and he knew what that meant so he let himself go and as she screamed, he screamed with her, a white hot rush of passion and power flooding into her, invading her, possessing her.

He fell on to her, breathless, and her arms came up around him and held him to her, clasping his head to her cheek, refusing to allow him to roll off her. He feared she would be unable to breathe but allowed her to insist, for he had the wild notion that he could imprint himself on her in this way, mould his shape into hers so that no-one else would ever fit to her the way he did.

A long time later, he finally slid from her and they lay together side by side, looking up at the fairy lights twinkling around the vaulted ceiling. He was deep in thought, wondering when would be the most propitious time for him to propose marriage, for he needed to cleave her to him for all time. He craved the reassurance of knowing that she would be his for evermore and had the idea that his day could be more perfect only if he asked her and she said yes, but then he realised that if she were to say no -

"What is it, Severus?" She interrupted his thought processes then, and he said the first thing that came into his head, which was at least a partial truth.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. Trying to remember another Christmas when I felt happy. I have to go back a long way."

She squeezed his hand, and he sensed that he had unwittingly reminded her of her own past Christmases. He smiled tightly, gritting his teeth as he realised that his ill-chosen words now meant that he would have to postpone his proposal. It would not be prudent to bring up the subject of marriage when she was remembering her family, since his part in their deaths would surely influence her answer. Instead, he broke the newly sombre mood, saying,

"Come on, I feel the need to injure someone! I think a few well-aimed snowballs in the direction of Lupin and Black might do the trick!"

She gave him a dark look severe enough to rival any of his own, and he sniggered.

"You'd better leave your wand here, if you're in that sort of mood! No magic, Severus! It's all meant to be in fun!"

She obviously had no idea of the purpose of these annual snowball fights, and he sighed as he pulled her to her feet.

"Well, it's only fun if I win!"

She wore his scarf. She had a cloak of midnight blue, but told him that her old school scarf had been lost years before. He gave her a wolfish smile and produced his own from the depths of his wardrobe, wrapping it around her neck and pulling her to him to claim her lips possessively. She was his, his alone, and even though everybody was well aware of that fact, he saw no harm in emphasising it. He felt immensely smug as they emerged from the school on to the front lawn, squinting as the bright winter sunlight reflected off the snow-covered lawns, and made a point of stopping her descent of the steps into the snow to adjust its folds under her chin.

Satisfied that Black had noticed their arrival, he smirked at the prospect of this year's snowball fight. Ella had said that he ought not to use magic, but technically speaking he saw no reason not to cast a Speed and Accuracy spell on Ella, so that every snowball she threw would meet its target with painful precision. She need not know, and he himself could say, hand on heart, that he threw his own snowballs with no more help than his own excellent hand to eye co-ordination. Lupin greeted Ella enthusiastically and Snape frowned at him, then Black loped up to them and swept Ella off her feet, even daring to kiss her cheek. Snape glowered, unnoticed as he murmured the incantations that would ensure Black had several painful visual reminders of that year's snowball fight. Snape hoped that he bruised easily.

Dumbledore soon had their small group divided into two teams, one of which comprised Snape, Ella, Lupin and himself, and the other Black, Potter, Weasley and his sister. Snape's eyes narrowed as he watched Black wink at Ella before jogging across the lawn to join his team in the making of a large supply of snowballs to start off the fight. As they moulded and packed the snow in their gloved hands, Snape decided to use the opportunity to discuss tactics with Ella.

"Why don't you concentrate on Black, love?" he suggested casually. "I'll tackle Weasley. He's tall, his throwing arc will be higher than Potter's or Black's, I'll be more equally matched to him."

"Well, in that case shouldn't I concentrate on Ginny?" Ella asked, smiling at him excitedly. He noticed that the tip of her nose was already turning red and he had an urge to kiss it. Instead, he smiled indulgently and said,

"Yes, that's very true, but Black's too much of a gentleman to give you a hard time. He'll go easy on you, and then we'll have the advantage!"

"Oh, Severus, isn't it a little unfair to scheme like that?"

Oh, you have no idea! he thought, but simply lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head, saying

"We Slytherins do have a reputation to live up to, Ella!"

The snowball fight turned out to be most satisfying. Every ball Ella threw hit its mark, and soon Black was hopping about the lawn clutching at various of his limbs, half laughing, half groaning with pain. Ella suspected nothing and was helpless with laughter at his antics, so Snape took it upon himself to punish Black for being so amusing, and left Weasley, Potter and Ginny for Dumbledore and Lupin to sort out while he added his force to Ella's. Unfortunately after a while it became apparent that he and Black appeared to have forgotten the spirit of the occasion, and Ella and Lupin had to do their best to intervene in what had been turning into an enjoyably vicious duel.

Fortunately for Black, Hagrid arrived with Miss Granger, and a ceasefire was called as everyone welcomed her back into the fold. Snape watched as Lupin greeted her warmly, and the elation that shone from the werewolf's face struck such a chord with Snape that he pulled Ella to him and buried his nose in her hair, leaving his arm draped across her shoulders as they stood ankle deep in the powdery snow.

Much to his chagrin, Miss Granger's arrival prompted the Headmaster to call a halt to the proceedings and suggest that it might be time to go inside for dinner. He was sure Black had something to do with the fact that a ridiculous hat with a huge pink ostrich feather had flown out of Snape's exploding cracker and tried to arrange itself fetchingly on his head, but since it was he, Snape, who was Ella's choice and the one able to spend dinner running his fingers through her hair, knowing what promise was written in her eyes, he rather thought that he had the last word. And when she turned to him and kissed him, her face bright with love, and said,

"Merry Christmas!" he was able to say, in all honesty and with all possible meanings,

"Yes, it is."