Nostalgia

Nostalgia

"Tired?"

"Always."

"You look terrible."

"So do you. At least I have an excuse. Azkaban's hardly a restful climate. What are you here for?"

"The Dark Lord. He wishes to speak with me. What are you smiling about?"

"Memories. Remember how we first met?"

"At Hogwarts. Potter was ripping up my notes. You put a body bind on him. Deus Ex Machina. My lady in shining armour. I'm surprised you noticed my existence."

"Well, we all thought you were rather pathetic. For the first few days. Until you took Nott's arms off...We still laugh about that, remember how long it took them to fix them back on again? He was in hospital for a week, I remember. That's when we knew there was something in you worth saving, even if you weren't exactly much to look at."

"Do you mean to imply that my appearance could be termed...unprepossessing?"

"My cousin used to put it rather less elegantly, if I remember."

"Oh yes. He seemed to regard my appearance as a boundless source of humour. What his insults lacked in wit they made up for in frequency. Your side of the family obviously took the lion's share of the brains as well as the looks."

"You thought Sirius was ugly? I always found him rather attractive, myself. I remember him falling through that ridiculous veil, he looked so astonished. A surprised look always became him. I was sorry not to see his body. It would have been nice to see him passive, for once. We could have done anything we wanted with him...Why are you looking at me like that? Jealous?"

"You are insane, my dear."

"You sound rather admiring. I suppose the idea of madness must be tempting for you."

"What do you mean?"

"You call it insanity. Wouldn't you like to know what it feels like? The power, energy surging through you? To loose yourself entirely in your allegiance to the Dark Lord, instead of staying always so cold?"

"You shouldn't touch me. Someone might come in."

"Always so cold. Only not always, really. That's just a little delusion you like to cherish."

"...?"

"You can't have forgotten, surely. Don't you remember old Regulus?"

"We killed him."

"You killed him, Severus, surely you remember that? You went all pale, as white as bones, and suddenly you started yelling at him, no one could work out what you were saying apart from me. I always admired your cruciatus. So much power, and so much control. I'd know it anywhere. You hit him with five Avadas before I could pull you away. A pity the Dark Lord was not there, he would have enjoyed the spectacle: who'd have thought you could loose control so magnificently?"

"A momentary slip."

"Do you remember what name you yelled at him? Remember who he looked like in the moonlight?"

"Damn you, Bellatrix."

"He did resemble his brother, didn't he? The similarity was almost uncanny. They were alike as children, I remember. And of course, in the darkness it would have been difficult to tell which one you were killing. It could have been Sirius. In your head it was, wasn't it? You were thinking it was him."

"Why do you bring this up now?"

"Why do you pretend there is nothing in you but mind?"

"It's all I have to give."

"Wrong, Severus. There is more you can bring to the Dark Lord, if you have the courage to offer it. You keep shutting yourself off. Inside your head. It's like a prison in there."

"Get out. You've no business rooting through my thoughts."

"Oh, don't worry, you keep them very secure. Like a metal box, I couldn't pry it open if I tried. But then, could you read me? If you wanted, could you get inside my head?"

"Why ever would I want to?"

"I didn't think you could. The Dark Lord said my mind was not subtle, but brutally strong. I never had your finesse, but I could usually stop people doing things I didn't want them to. And make them do things I did want..."

"Let go of me. Don't stare at me like that."

"A rather feeble defence, all things considered. You could stop me if you wanted to, you could put your hand round my neck and choke the life out. You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?"

"I wouldn't be fool enough to attempt it ... You shouldn't kiss me. Someone might come in. Don't look like that, woman, I mean it. Stop laughing. Stop it."

"Do I scare you?"

"No. Not at all."

"Not even now, when you're stretched to breaking point, and there's only the slenderest of threads between you and surrender?"

"No."

"Not even now, standing so close, with your eyes staring into mine? Not if I touch your face, run my hands over your mouth?"

"You cannot beat me."

"I can enjoy myself trying."

"I will not - "

"You will. One day, if not now. The other, the one inside you, is waiting. Why are you always so cold? You walk around clad in armour, shielding yourself from the world. Or the world from your true self. Armour protects, Severus, but it weighs you down. You would move faster without it. Why are you so cold?"

"I must go. He is waiting for me."

"One more kiss. I love your mouth when you're on the defensive. You like to think you're completely unreadable. You're not. You're broken, aren't you? Like one of your potions jars flung at the wall."

"Broken glass cuts deeper, Bellatrix."

"Are you warning me?"

"Yes. Will it do any good?"

"No. Blood never frightened me. I always liked red. It isn't the Gryffindor colour, not really; it's pain, and love, and death and birth. It's poisoned roses, the rich colour oozing from a deep cut. I used to think of it when I was in Azkaban. It's so dark, yet so vivid. Beautiful. I had a dress that colour once. I wish I had had a chance to see Sirius bleed."

"As do I. But pleasant as this...interlude has been, I fear I must leave you. Do send my regards to your husband."

"Send my regards to Dumbledore. And to Potter, of course. I hope the ickle baby isn't having nasty dweams."

"Let go of my arm. I don't care how lovely you are, it won't work."

"Lovely? Was that a compliment? How very uncharacteristic."

"It was a statement. Nothing more. You were always beautiful. You were the youngest daughter, the one with the gleaming dark hair and carnivorous smile. You always knew you were beautiful. That is a simple fact, like a potions recipe, there is no flattery involved."

"I see."

"Don't smile at me like that."

"You will come back."

"I will not."

"You will."

"No. Don't laugh like that. I mean it. No."