The Toy Potioneer

Snape recovered quickly from the sudden, unpleasant idea that the Dark Lord might be watching him through the pendant he had been wearing for almost a year. Perhaps he was only being paranoid. After all, the fact that Bellatrix's necklace was enchanted didn't necessarily mean his own was. But still... he had to know...

"If the Dark Lord knows what you are saying, then he must know what an enormous effort you put into discrediting me."

"Yes--though he doesn't need stealth to know it. I've made my opinions very clear to him."

"Indeed?" He had been hoping for a more reassuring response. "Well, surely he isn't pleased that his--ah--'Queen' refuses to cooperate with his best advisor?"

"No, of course not. You know as well as I do that he doesn't tolerate disagreement--not even from me or you. But you see, Snape... he may trust you, but he trusts me even more. He understands that my disagreement comes from my desire to serve him, to protect him."

"You are mistaken," Snape said, more to calm his own pounding heart than anything else . "The Dark Lord does not punish devotion."

"Exactly," hissed Bellatrix. She settled herself on Snape's lap, straddling him and facing him. She continued in a whisper, "Has the Cruciatus Curse ever brought you to orgasm? Do you ever crave our Master's wrath? Then I can't expect you to understand... but the Dark Lord has taught me the pleasure of pain. There is nothing more gratifying than to suffer for the one you adore. The real punishment is separation, being alone..."

"I understand more than you think," he muttered, feeling suddenly much warmer towards Bellatrix. What a timely reminder of why he was suffering; remembering Lily's face, Lily's body, he relaxed and allowed Bellatrix to unbutton his trousers.

"That's more like it," Bellatrix whispered in his ear as his hands moved to her breasts.

"Silence," he said. He didn't want to hear Bellatrix's voice. He waved his hand behind him and the candles extinguished. In the dark, he shifted and lowered her onto her back, then steadied himself over her.

His mind took him back years and years, to his Slytherin dormitory on Christmas Eve. He remembered sharing a laugh as they pulled shut the velvet hangings, though the room was deserted. A pile of black robes on the floor, a green and a scarlet tie, and the laugh turned into a kiss; the short break from Potions homework had turned into so much more.

He never would forget the softness of her body, the gentleness she inspired in him, the kiss that did not end. He never would forget the way her long hair spread over the green sheets--Christmas colours--or the way it smelled, like vanilla and mint.

He thought of how she had whispered his name, "Severus," at just the right times. How she had clung to him as she came, and how she had held him close as he did the same. How fast her heart was beating when he laid his head on her chest, and how fast his own beat when he held her hand or saw her smile...

But he was jarred from these pleasant thoughts by Bellatrix's cry of ecstasy. He pulled out and lay down beside her.

"I thought I told you to be quiet," he said, scowling.

"Well, you were quite good, Snape," Bellatrix replied indifferently. "Not nearly as good as I'm used to, of course, but--"

"Good enough," Snape finished her sentence. "I am not foolish enough to compete with the Dark Lord."

At once Bellatrix began to extol the Dark Lord's prowess in bed. "...Just the sheer power of him, you have no idea, it can't be described. The magic he uses, the way he blends pain with pleasure... it's an art, it really is--"

Snape talked over her, "I've always wondered, how does Rodolphus feel about your relationship with the Dark Lord?"

She snorted. "I neither know, nor care."

"Ah--so much for wedded bliss."

"I was very young when I married him, I hardly knew what I was agreeing to. Fortunately... that commitment is much more easily neglected than the one I made to my true Master. I laugh to think that Dumbledore would have counted Rodolphus's affection more powerful than the Dark Lord's."

"Well, it is true that love is a great power for those who believe in it. What Dumbledore failed to realise is that not everybody does believe in it."

"And that power itself is a greater power," Bellatrix added. "I am so glad that the Dark Lord taught me this before I became a weak, starry-eyed fool like my husband. Undoubtedly, you would say the same, Snape?" She was eyeing him appraisingly.

"Certainly," he replied at once.

When he did not elaborate, she pressed on. "Well, what's your story? When did you learn the truth?"

He hesitated. "A very long time ago--at Hogwarts, in fact-- I was in love. But I lost her, and soon afterwards I joined the Dark Lord."

"How very typical," Bellatrix said disdainfully. "What happened to her?"

Snape turned and looked her straight in the eye. "I killed her," he said.

Bellatrix looked delighted. "Oh, how delicious! Who was it?"

"I wish I could tell you," he said, thinking quickly. "But before I could kill her, she cursed me for my treachery. I cannot say her name."

"Are you sure?" Bellatrix said softly.

"What? Of course I'm sure."

"You're sure that you killed her? You're sure it wasn't the Dark Lord who did it?"

"Yes--"

"And you're sure that you can't say her name?" Bellatrix whispered.

"Yes," he snarled. "And I am equally sure that you ought not to be doubting your superior!"

"No need to get defensive, Snape," Bellatrix said airily, a satisfied smile on her face. "I only wondered... because if you cannot say this woman's name, then she couldn't have been called 'Lily,' which you uttered not once but twice, while we were making love not five minutes ago."

Snape froze, staring. Was she lying? Was she trying to trick him? Or had he really made such a grievous mistake? He supposed it was possible; he had been lost in his thoughts, and he certainly had been thinking about her...

His heart was pounding, and his palms sweating. Trying not to panic, he replied, choosing his words carefully.

"You hear what you want to hear, Bellatrix," he said coldly. He glared at her, searching her eyes for the truth; but she must have been using Occlumency against him, because all he found there was a malicious glint and a shade of cruel amusement.

"If you say so," she said indifferently, but her grin widened.

Snape snatched his wand from the bedside table and held it once again to her throat.

"I would hate for you to have the wrong idea of the Dark Lord's second in command," he growled. His voice shook slightly; he hoped Bellatrix would attribute it to anger rather than nerves. "Perhaps you imagine that I harbour secret feelings for some Mudblood witch who died years ago at the hands of our Master? A disgusting Gryffindor who married my archenemy and whose son was a blight upon my teaching career? Perhaps you take me for a fool!"

With the air of a mother reassuring her anxious child, Bellatrix replied, "No, Snape, I know you're not a fool. After all, wasn't it I who recommended you to the Dark Lord, so many years ago? No... you've merely been hanging around Dumbledore too long."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped. Desperate to change the subject, he asked, "Another glass of wine?"

"No."

He waved his hand again and the candles lit themselves once more. Relieved to get away from her, Snape got up and went to the cabinet by the window. He took his time fetching a new wineglass for himself, filling it, draining it, and refilling it. When he could stall no longer, he returned and sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling Bellatrix's eyes on his back and the Dark Lord's silver chain around his neck.