The Toy Potioneer

"Worried about something?"

Snape was sure that the shiver running down his spine had nothing to do with the finger that Bellatrix was tracing lightly up and down his back. Reluctantly, he turned to face her.

"No."

"Then you're ready to go again?"

"Unlike you, Bellatrix, I have been working all day," he said wearily. "I appreciate that your main line of work is in bed, but do recognise that that is not the case for me."

"How pathetic--and you're even younger than me!"

"Do you pester the Dark Lord this way?" Snape said irritably. "You may leave. I am going to sleep."

But Bellatrix did not leave. Rather, she moved even closer to him, carefully arranging herself so that her breasts were in plain view. Snape, however, couldn't seem to see past the slender, gleaming silver serpent that hung over them.

"Come now, Snape. I'm having too much fun, I don't want to leave. And besides, I want to know more about your mystery woman..."

"You are very difficult to satisfy," Snape said evasively.

"You say you no longer care for her?"

"Didn't I tell you I killed her?"

"Stop avoiding my questions!"

"Stop asking questions!" Snape retorted.

"Fine," said Bellatrix curtly. "If you're too tired for sex, and too stubborn to talk, there's another way to show you're honest: kiss me."

"What?"

"It's often more difficult for a man to kiss a woman than to fuck her, when he loves someone else. Now, kiss me."

Snape stared. The idea was wholly nauseating. But really, what choice did he have? He was trapped. This whole night had been a trap, and he was prepared to chew off his own foot to free himself...

"Kiss me!" Bellatrix commanded again.

He obeyed her.

She placed her hands on his sides--her fingers pressed between his ribs--and kissed him back softly, slowly. She kept her eyes open, so Snape shut his. It occurred to him that she couldn't possibly be enjoying it, either; heartened, he pressed on, sure it couldn't last much longer...

But her grip tightened; he felt her long nails cutting into his sides. She was kissing him harder now, attacking his mouth with her treacherous tongue. Before he knew it, he was on his back; then he was in her, moving mechanically beneath her...

With a gasp he came, and collapsed backwards onto a pillow.

Bellatrix climbed over him. Her necklace swung in front of his face; he imagined it coming loose and falling down his throat, choking him...

"I knew you had it in you," she said sardonically, smiling down at him. "Who commands whom now, Snape?"

He waited for the usual smooth reply to come to him, but his mind was blank. He said nothing. Bellatrix leaned down towards him. At first he thought she was going to kiss him again, but she only sniffed his breath, thought for a moment, and said, "Hmm. Syrup of hellebore? Ground peppermint. Pinot noir. Ground yarrow, and foxglove -no! Essence of valerian... My, what an interesting combination..."

Alarmed, Snape sat up. "Stop bluffing, you haven't a clue what such a combination might mean."

Bellatrix's lips thinned in a terrible smirk. "I held my own in Potions class, you know. I was old Slughorn's favourite, until you and your little girlfriend came along."

His heart was pounding. He answered automatically, as if reciting a line he had memorised earlier. "Don't be absurd. Yarrow is the third most common ingredient in potions; that could come from anything. And to the best of my considerable knowledge, there is no potion that contains both hellebore and valerian."

"What one potion can't do, maybe two potions can," she whispered. "And what two can't do--"

But Snape cut across her, trying to keep his voice free of the panic that had already constricted his throat. "Do not challenge my potions expertise! I do not understand why you still suspect me, when even the Dark Lord trusts me. He always knows... How can you claim to know something the Dark Lord does not?"

"You don't be absurd!" Bellatrix said, mortified. "How can you suggest such a thing? As if I'm even capable of disobeying him! And I would never seek to compete with him--"

"Nor I," said Snape, nodding curtly.

"Shut up! You have no idea what real loyalty is, Snape. You make a mockery of loyalty. You've spent your whole life as a two-faced traitor, eventually stabbing everyone you meet in the back! How can you expect to be welcome anywhere? How can you expect to belong with anyone, when everybody watches you out of the corners of their eyes?"

Her voice was growing steadily louder and more threatening. Snape whispered his answer automatically, the same response that he had given time and time again over the past year. "I killed Dumbledore. I can neither provide nor imagine any better proof that I am devoted to the Dark Order."

"Oh, it was convenient enough, wasn't it? The benefits outweighed the costs of killing an old man who already had a foot in the door. You chose the winning side by convincing most of the world that you are a Death Eater; you became the Dark Lord's favourite and claimed your spoils; you saved your own skin by fulfilling my traitorous sister's Unbreakable Vow. What a sacrifice that must have been!"

Snape looked away. Bellatrix was shrewder than he had anticipated; she seemed to have guessed all the truths that he had worked so hard to hide. To admit that Occlumency could no longer protect his secrets was to feel the sting of defeat. His mind, which had been so fit from years of meticulous practice, was now reduced to a hazy mess. The pride and confidence upon which he had sailed through every encounter with the Dark Lord had sunk deep into a sea of doubt and despair.

So, it had come to this: Snape looked Bellatrix in the eye and summoned the last remaining light from within, the very dregs of his courage.

He said quietly, "If you are so convinced that I am a threat to the Dark Lord... if you are so sure that I am your enemy, why don't you do something about it? Fight me. Attack me."

Bellatrix looked rather unnerved. Snape tossed his wand to her and held up his empty hands. "There. I am defenceless. This is your chance to overtake me. At last, you can be the Dark Lord's undisputed favourite. So, go on. Do what you like. Use the Cruciatus Curse! Torture me into insanity, like you did to--"

At this, Bellatrix laughed harshly. "Yes, that was fun, wasn't it? However, the Dark Lord has forbidden me to duel with you. It's a pity, but no matter..." She leaned towards him, eyes alight with cruel amusement. "There are other ways to drive a man mad, Snape."

She handed the wand back to him and got to her feet. With a regal air, she snatched up her robes and put them on. She turned on her heel and left the room, pausing only to give Snape one last, vicious smile.

Even after she had gone, it was quite some time before Snape was able to move and breathe properly. Rather numb, he went to the mirror. The silver Dark Mark, colder and heavier than ever, rested on his chest. He imagined he heard the Dark Lord's voice coming from it, whispering threats and laughing at him.

While he tried and failed to fall asleep, he tried and failed to convince himself that Bellatrix had invented everything, to trick him, to make him lose his composure and incriminate himself. But he was doomed whether she had been lying or not. This nightmare of a tryst had gone perfectly according to Bellatrix's plan--or rather, the plan of Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, for now he was sure that his Master had been in on it.

He was their toy.