Fic: ~The Wizard's Tale, A Continuation: Part 3~ NC-17
Title: The Wizard’s Tale: A Continuation
Part 3 contains chapters 12-16


Chapter 12: Surrender

It was two hours later that Lillith reappeared in the open doorway of the shop, an armload of blankets and pillows clasped to her chest. Snape was reading again. She dropped the bedclothes on the couch and taking out her wand, gave it a wave. The couch instantly opened and made itself.

“Two pillows?” Snape’s voice was conversational.

“Well, I thought as the potion would need tending most of the night, it was only fair that we take turns.” She wasn’t looking at him. Hearing the creak of the door hinge, she wheeled around. The door swung shut and she heard the click of the lock. The same noise behind had her turning in time to see the back door closing as well. Snape finished with a wave of his wand and heavy curtains appeared over the windows. She looked at him with something near panic in her eyes.

“I thought it was getting a bit chilly,” his tone was light.

In two graceful strides he was standing in front of her, his black eyes burning down into her face. “Why did you come back, Lillith?”

“I told you,” she couldn’t look away. “To bring the things and help with the potions.”

His eyes never blinked. “Take off my shirt.”

“W-What?” Even as her voice stuttered, her hands rose to do his bidding. She tugged the shirttails free from the waistband of his trousers then undid the buttons, clumsy with the bandage on her hand. Knowing the cuffs wouldn’t fit over his hands, she undid those as well. Placing her hands flat on the warm wall of his chest she slid them up and over his shoulders, smoothing the shirt back with them. The shirt fell down his back and she eased it over his hands. The right one still held his wand. She lifted the shirt from the floor, folded it once and draped it over the back of the couch. When she was done she stood quietly in front of him, staring at the floor.

“Now yours.”

She obeyed and when she hesitated at removing her bra, his quiet, “That too,” brought instant compliance. Shivering, she stood before him.

“Now your shoes and socks, then your slacks,” he voice was barely above a whisper.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment then sat on the edge of the bed and removed her shoes and socks. Standing, her slacks followed and she tossed them in a chair. She stood, head hanging, letting her hair cover her face.

He raised a hand and touched her shoulder. She flinched and looked where his hand had been. There was a deep bruise and teeth marks. She looked up at him in confusion.

“I thought you were going to pass out.” His voice held a soft apology. “I couldn’t let you.”

Stunned, she stared at the angry marks on her shoulder. He raised his wand and lightly touched it to her skin. The bruise faded away.

“Kneel,” the command was a soft growl and she folded her knees instantly.

“My boots?” It was conversational. She removed first one, then the other, setting them aside and draping the socks over the tops.

When finished, she remained kneeling looking at her hands resting on her thighs, the bandage standing out white, even against her pale skin.

“Well?” it was a very soft drawl.

Her hands were shaking as she reached for his belt. She fumbled a bit then managed the belt, button and zipper. Squeezing her eyes shut she grabbed the waistband of the trousers and silk boxers beneath and tugged down. They came astonishingly easily and he stepped out of them, picking them up and hanging them with his shirt. He stepped back and studied the kneeling form of the woman before him.

“Get on the bed, on your back,” his voice was brisk. She obeyed, then closed her eyes again.

“Spread your legs.” She could tell by his voice that he was standing at the foot of the bed.

“Raise your knees.” She did so and a tear escaped from her eye, running back into her hair. Her mind was screaming at her to run but the hypnotic voice was not to be denied.

She felt the bed move with his weight then delicious warmth as he covered her body with his own. His hands slid under her shoulders and came up to caress her face. They hesitated a moment and he wiped the tear away. She felt his breath warm on her neck just before his lips started to nuzzle her. She exhaled a long, relaxing breath and his hips surged against her, pressing his erection against her belly. Her body responded by arching against him. A low moan escaped her.

“Tell me what you want.” It was breathed against her neck. She whimpered and wound her fingers into his hair, trying to drag his face down against her breast. His lips and tongue burned a trail from her throat to her breast. As his lips closed over one nipple, his hand closed over the other. Again she pressed against him, her body begging for more. Gently he worked from one side to the other, periodically moving his hips against her until she wrapped her legs around his waist and cried out for him. His lips were immediately on hers, his tongue probing hungrily into her mouth. She sucked him greedily and moaned deep in her throat.

“Tell me what you want,” it was a husky whisper.

“Please!” The cry was torn from her.

He shifted his hips so that the head of his cock was rubbing against her clit.

“Please what?”

She shook her head.

“What, Lillith?” He kissed her face and throat.

“Please, Severus, oh, please!” Her voice was a whisper.

“Please, what?” His voice was patient but insistent. “Tell me what you want.”

She moaned in protest, “Don’t....”

Instantly, he levered himself off the bed. Grabbing a throw off the back of the couch, he wound it around his waist and went over to look at the cauldrons. One was smoking and giving off gentle popping noises. He picked up a dish with pieces of carefully measured and cut roots in it and added half to the bubbling mixture. He then stirred exactly 12 times clockwise with his wand, added the other half of the roots and stirred 12 times in a counterclockwise direction. Finished, he wiped his wand on a towel and laid it on the counter, then turned over a small timer.

Sitting on the stool, he looked back at the bed. Lillith was sitting up on the far side, her knees drawn to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs and her forehead on her knees.

“Come.” The command was soft and she rose. Pausing with a hand on the blanket she looked at him, her eyes appearing enormous in the dim light. He gave a short nod and she pulled the blanket around herself, coming to stand in front of him. He grabbed a handful of blanket and drew her close between his knees. She kept her eyes locked on his as he reached up and smoothed the hair away from her face with both his hands. He then let his hands run down over her shoulders and down her arms. Holding her wrists he still looked her in the eyes.

“Lillith, do you want me to stop touching you?” The question was gentle.

Her eyes filled with tears that spilled over and ran down her cheeks, but she didn’t blink. Her body trembled.

“No.” Her voice was firm; she had made her decision.

“Are you sure?”

She closed her eyes in a long slow blink and when she opened them, the tears were gone.

“Yes.”

His hands came up to cradle her face again and his thumbs wiped away her tears. She lifted her right hand and gripped his wrist, then turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand. A deep shudder ran through him.

“You’ll have to tell me what you want. You’ll have to ask me for what you want.”

Her eyes closed and she shook her head from side to side.

“Yes!” His voice was firm, almost angry.

She bit her lower lip and looking him in the eye once more asked softly, “Will you please come back to bed with me, Severus?”

She saw a deep passion flame in his eyes for an instant before he smiled gently.

“I will, Lillith, in about 20 minutes.” He nodded toward the bubbling cauldron. “In 20 minutes, I can turn down the heat and leave it for the night.”

She suddenly looked bereft and he smiled.

“Go back to bed; get warm and I’ll be with you shortly. I promise.”

“All right,” she whispered and started to move away.

He suddenly pulled her to him and kissed her. It was a kiss full of passion and promise and she leaned into him hungrily. Releasing her, he turned her and pushed her gently toward the bed.

After rearranging the blanket, she crawled into the bed, drawing up the covers and curling on her side. She sighed and waited for Severus to come to bed.

Precisely 22 minutes later, Snape dropped the throw on the back of the couch and climbed under the covers. He snuggled up to Lillith’s warm back and smiled to himself as he realized from her deep even breathing that she was sound asleep.

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

Chapter 13: To the Victor

In the darkest, coldest part of the night, Lillith stirred and cried out softly. Instantly, strong arms closed around her and a voice whispered in her ear.

“What is it?”

She turned over and buried her face against his warm chest. He caressed her hair.

“Just a dream.”

Lillith tipped her head back and kissed the underside of his jaw.

He became still and hardly seemed to breathe.

“I want you, Severus.”

“I’m right here.” It was a husky whisper in her ear.

She stroked his back, shoulders, arms, and chest, then started kissing him lightly on the throat and chest. She circled his nipple with her tongue, then sucked him into her mouth. She felt him quiver and bit down lightly. His hand came up and tangled in her hair, caressing her lightly. She treated his other nipple to the same attention before starting a slow trail over his ribs and down his belly. She froze for a moment and stared. A long angry scar ran from under his left nipple down and around his ribs. It looked fairly new. Looking up into his eyes she saw him frown.

“It’s nothing. It happened about a year ago.”

She dropped her head and kissed it gently, then continued her journey down over the hard, flat muscles of his stomach to his belly button and beyond. She rolled him onto his back and for a moment gave up kissing him. She let her hand stroke down his leg and up the inside of his thigh; first one leg, then the other. Up over the soft tangle of black hair and around his hips. A low growl came from his chest and his hand tightened its grip in her hair. Her hand slid over his balls and fondled them gently for a moment before coming up to caress his hot erection. Stroking him lightly, she trailed her kisses down to meet her hand. She rubbed the silky skin of his cock against her cheek, marveling at how soft and warm it was. Then, she licked her tongue slowly over the head. Snape drew in his breath sharply and held it. She licked again and swirled her tongue around the head a few times before taking him into her mouth. He exhaled in a long shuddering sigh as his cock slipped all the way into her mouth. Slowly she stroked her mouth up and down his cock, tickling the underside of the shaft with flicks of her tongue, biting gently with her teeth. Her hand fondled his balls, squeezing gently. She moved between his legs and started licking his balls, swirling her tongue around them and drawing each in turn into her mouth and sucking them firmly. He moaned and she went back to his cock, sliding it all the way into her mouth and partway down her throat. She held him there a second before backing off and tonguing the opening at the tip.

Both his hands came down to cradle her face and he drew her up to lie on top of him. He pulled her mouth down to his and she kissed him eagerly, her tongue sliding between his teeth, exploring, tasting. Without breaking the kiss he rolled her over. She gave a small whimper as his ribs pinned her bandaged hand. Quickly raising his weight off her, he grasped her wrist and drew her hand over her head. He brought the other up and clasped them both in one of his long hands.

“Keep them there,” he whispered.

She looked confused and he smiled. “Your hands. Keep them there.”

He then withdrew his own and began nuzzling her neck. She sighed and her body stretched and trembled. He continued his leisurely trip down her neck, over her shoulders and his lips and tongue followed a zigzagging path to her breasts. She moaned and started to reach for him.

“No!” He growled at her and she whimpered, then gasped as his hot mouth closed over her taught nipple. He sucked hard and tugged at the tender flesh as one hand kneaded her firmly. The other hand caressed the other breast, the thumb teasing the erect nipple until it ached for the feel of his mouth. It didn’t have long to wait. His hips pressed into her and her body arched in response. Adjusting his hips until his cock lay in her soaking slit, he slowly rocked his body, stroking her clit with his cock. She cried out and her good hand clutched at the pillow.

He pushed himself up on his knees between her legs and she moaned, shaking her head back and forth. Leaning forward, he ran his fingers gently down her belly and thighs. Trailing their way up the inside of her thighs his fingers stroked and tickled. Then ever so gently, he slipped two fingers into her, simultaneously sliding his thumb over her swollen clit. He stroked her twice and she came, crying out and arching her body toward him.

Her body stopped shuddering but he continued stroking her gently and before long she was moaning again. With a smile he settled himself on his belly and let his tongue take over caressing her swollen clit. He ran his tongue down her slit and thrust it into her dripping hole, swirling and stroking; then back up to her clit where his mouth covered her and he sucked hard, teasing the swollen, sensitive nub with his tongue. Closer and closer he drew her to another orgasm, only to back off at the last second. Her body arched and trembled, her breathing was coming in gasps.

“Please! Oh, God, please!” It was torn from her in a wounded cry. Instantly, he laid his body over hers, his cock stroking her instead of his tongue and hands. She wrapped her legs around his hips and tried to maneuver him inside her.

“Please, what, Lillith?” His voice was soft in her ear.

“I want you!”

“I’m right here.”

She gave a cry of frustration. “I want you inside me!”

He reached down and slipped a finger inside her. “Like this?”

“Noooo, please!”

“Please, what? You have to tell me exactly what you want.” He voice was a growl.

She bit her lip and he pressed his hips against her.

“Your cock! Please, I want your cock inside me!”

He immediately shifted his weight and slid his cock all the way into her in one smooth stroke. He pushed his hips against her and held still, his cock deep inside her.

She gasped when entered her, then cried out in frustration as he lay still. Desperately she tried to move against him, but his weight held her still. His breathing was ragged but he closed his eyes for a few seconds and mastered himself.

Her hands came down and she clutched at his back.

“Hands!” he barked at her and immediately they were back over her head clutching convulsively at the bedclothes.

He took a deep steadying breath and laid his lips close to her ear.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Noooo,” she moaned.

“No?” He started to pull out of her.

She gave an inarticulate cry, then burst out, “Fuck me, damn it, Severus. Fuck me!”

The sweat was starting to run down his face but his voice was steady. “Is that any way to ask?”

“Damn you!” She spit it at him. “DamnyouSeverusSnapewillyoupleasefuckmeNOW!”

With a shout of laughter he drove into her. Again and again he drove into her until she cried out and arched her back, her internal muscles clamping down so hard on his cock he gasped. Still, he didn’t come. He remained still inside her until her own orgasm faded, then started gently stroking in and out of her again.

Panting, sweat running off her face she looked up at him.

“Please, let me touch you?”

Fighting to control himself, he nodded. Her arms came up and pulled him down. She kissed him deeply and wrapped her arms and legs around him, rocking with the gentle sway of his hips. She stroked his back and kissed his face and neck, her motions getting gradually more urgent as she once again felt her orgasm building. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, willing himself to wait for her. As she came closer and closer, he could feel his own orgasm building. She suddenly ducked her head and her teeth closed on his nipple. His body jerked and she bit him again. He drove into her hard and fast and their orgasms exploded together.

Completely spent, he collapsed on top of her, her legs wrapped around him and most of his weight resting on his forearms. They lay panting for several minutes before he rolled off and out of her. She went with him, her legs still locked at the small of his back; her arms tight around his neck.

“You can let go, you know.” His voice had a chuckle in it.

“I don’t want to.” Her face was buried in his neck.

“Come on,” he gently loosed her arms.

She let go and slid her legs from around him as well. They settled facing each other and he smoothed the damp hair from her face.

“Now, was that so hard?” His voice was teasing.

She looked into his eyes for several seconds before answering. “Bastard!”

His eyebrows shot up for a moment, then he laughed.

“Oh, good,” he chuckled. “I thought you might be upset with me.”

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


Chapter 14: His Mark

“Lillith!” The voice was low but commanding and she sat up with a start. The windows were still covered with thick curtains but there was no light showing at the edges. Snape was at the high work table in the center of the room arranging jars in a row by one of the cauldrons. Lillith knew instantly that it was time for the next step. The plants had to be chopped and measured into the jars and then covered with the hot fixative. She scrambled off the couch and grabbed for her clothes, clumsy with sleep

“We have about 15 minutes; you don’t have to hurry so.” He spoke without looking at her. She pulled up her slacks and sat heavily on the edge of the couch, running a hand over her face. After pulling on the rest of her clothes she headed for the little bathroom off the workroom. On returning she noticed the couch was folded and the bedding neatly stacked. The curtains were gone from the windows and the sky was just starting to show light in the east.

She came up beside Snape and laid a hand on the small of his back. Immediately all his muscles went rigid and his movements lost their fluidity. He didn’t look at her but his scowl lowered his brow. Lillith removed her hand and moved aside. He relaxed slightly, but the frown didn’t go away.

He had set up two cutting boards and knives and was placing the leaves in a pile between them. She noticed that the plants had been carefully washed and blotted dry and the leaves stripped from the stems. She wondered if he’d gotten any sleep at all.

“If we both cut enough for the first half dozen or so jars, then one can keep up cutting while the other tops them off with the potion.” He nodded toward her bandaged hand. “Which will be easier for you?”

“The chopping, I think.” She was watching him but he still hadn’t looked at her.

He eyed the timer as it ran down. “Let’s start.” They both grabbed leaves and started cutting. His hands were deft and quick and the knife moved smoothly. Lillith was a little clumsier but keep up well. When the timer ran out, there were seven jars full of chopped leaves and after extinguishing the flames under the cauldron, he started ladling the hot potion over the leaves. Lillith worked furiously to keep ahead of him and finished up when he was still two jars behind her. She then swapped sides with him and started sealing the full jars. She saw they were already labeled with his neat, cramped writing. Not exactly accurately, she noticed. If anyone looked at them they would think they were looking at something completely different and totally harmless. When the last jar was filled, he started clearing up while she finished sealing the jars.

“There’s tea, if you want it,” he motioned toward another cauldron with a cloth over the top. She waited but he stayed with his back to her, rinsing things in the sink.

“Can I pour you some?” She kept her voice carefully neutral.

He started slightly as if he’d forgotten she was there.

“Yes, thank you.” He tipped the clean cauldron over on the drainboard.

She poured out his tea and carried it over to the sink. He hesitated a beat, then took it from her outstretched hand, still not meeting her eyes. She poured herself a mug and added a bit of sugar.

“The oil mix will be done in an hour. There is only one more thing to add.”

She didn’t answer.

“Come here.” He swung around to face her, his eyes fixed on hers and his expression angry.

She slowly moved to the counter and set down her tea. He gestured to the stool and she sat. He held out his hand and nodded towards hers. She gave him her injured hand at once and he started unwinding the bandages. When the bandages were off he examined it minutely, moving the lamp closer. He seemed to take a long time about it. It looked a lot better and was free of pain. The scar was tight across her palm and it was still stiff but overall it looked, and felt, to be healing well. He got up to get something from a cabinet and Lillith looked at the scar more closely, wondering what he had seen.

Her gasp made him turn. She looked at him with shocked eyes.

“Where did that come from?” On the heel of her hand was a twining double S, laying over- under in the groove of the scar.

He came back with some ointment and sat on the stool opposite her. Picking up his wand, he held it at the balance point with the handle extended toward her. Near the end of the handle was a double S, each letter at least a half inch high, inlaid in silver. She stared from the wand to her scar in horror.

“It is unfortunate that the silver was against you skin when you picked up the wand. It seems to have....... branded you.” His voice was quiet and though she looked at him sharply, she saw no trace of sarcasm.

He had spread the ointment over her hand and was putting on a fresh bandage; his face totally blank.

“Well,” she tried to make light of it. “At least we’re not one of those societies where that would make me your property.”

His hands jerked and he gathered up the old bandages and moved away.

“What is it?” He still wasn’t looking at her.

He dumped the bandages in the trash and leaned on the sink.

“Death Eaters brand their women.” He turned to look at her, his face still unreadable. “Though usually in a more private place.”

Lillith gulped. “But this was an accident. I mean,” she wasn’t sure what she meant, “it’s not going to cause any problems, is it?”

“No problems?” His voice was angry. “No problem that you have my mark, the mark of a Death Eater, burned into your hand?”

“But you’re not a Death Eater!” She was confused.

“But a number of people think I am, don’t they?! A number of very unpleasant people.” His face was furious.

“So what are we going to do?” She almost whispered the question, confused by his anger.

“We are not going to do anything. You are going home this afternoon with the plants and I will finish what I came here to do.”

“No!”

He wheeled around and leaned over her, glaring down into her face.

“You will do as you’re told!” He hissed the words.

“No,” her voice was very soft. “Not that. I’m not going back without you.”

He jerked upright and his hand raised as if to strike her. She held his eyes without flinching. Balling his hand into a fist, he shoved it in his pocket and headed for the door.

“I’m going for a walk. Don’t forget the potion.” With that he was gone.

~~

Lillith looked at the timer beside the simmering cauldron. Twenty minutes until the last ingredient, shredded colts-foot flower, was to be added. She could not follow him. To miss the last ingredient would be to ruin 16 hours of preparation. She fidgeted, then sighed and stopped fretting. I would do her no good and there were other things to do. Looking into a box on the work table, she found more jars labeled to receive the oil preparation. She lined them up then set to shredding the Spotted Witch’s Cloak. The timing wasn’t as precise as it was for the previous fixative and she stuffed the leaves into the jars with less than her usual care. Realizing what she was doing, she closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. She -- no one -- could afford this being messed up. She needed to stop sulking and concentrate. Clearing her mind, she finished preparing the jars and the potion; turning it down to heat just below a simmer for the last 40 minutes. Checking the plants on the drying trays, she moved them out into the morning sun for a few more hours drying.

Meredith arrived balancing a breakfast tray in front of her as Lillith carried out the last of the plants.

“I saw him stalk off earlier. Do you need any help?”

“No,” Lillith smiled at her old friend.

“Breakfast, then. Can you break now?”

“Yes, that would be lovely,” Lillith realized how hungry she was.

She sat down and accepted the tea Meredith handed her. “You look worried. What is it?” Meredith was never one for beating about the bush.

Lillith shook her head.

“He’s not Mr. Yates, from Australia, here collecting plants, is he?”

“No,” Lillith smiled, then met her friends eyes. “We have been collecting plants; other than that, I really can’t tell you.”

Meredith eyed her critically. “Are you in love with him?”

Lillith shook her head. “I have no idea. I have a great deal of respect for him on a number of levels, and, .... I, I don’t know.”

“Then my guess would be,” said Meredith smiling, “that you aren’t.”

Lillith smiled. “You’re probably right.”

Meredith squinted at her. “I think you’re close, though.”

Lillith sighed. “He is a very complicated man and these are very complicated times. There are a number things that demand his attention. He is not his own man, right now.” She spoke rather wistfully.

Meredith frowned, then glanced in the window at the timer by the steaming cauldron.

“That’s about ready, want a hand?”

Lillith smiled her thanks and the two women moved to finish the bottling and sealing of the jars.

When they were done and had tidied up, there was nothing left to do until the jars had cooled and the plants had finished drying. About three hours lay before Lillith with nothing to do.

Meredith eyed her and raised an eyebrow. “Shopping? Or do you want to follow that dark wizard of yours?”

Lillith laughed. “Shopping would be wonderful. Time enough to look for him later; if he doesn’t return.”

He didn’t.

Lillith returned to the workshop about three o’clock to find no sign of Snape. She and Meredith packed up the preserved plants and the potions. A third of the dried plants and jars she packed and sent to Snape at Hogwarts. A third went to her workshop and a third to a friend in Scotland with directions to give to Dumbledore in person if she had not collected them in two weeks time. They went back into the city and sent the parcels from three different locations. The live plants, Lillith packed carefully in amongst a lot of the Trailing Morning Star and sent it special courier to Professor Sprout. The official part of her task done, Lillith went home with Meredith for dinner. It was another lively affair but Lillith found herself continually looking out the window towards the workshop where no light shone from the uncurtained windows.

At about ten, she could stand it no longer and grabbing her cloak she headed for the door. Jon was right beside her, insisting he accompany her. She refused. He had a family and no idea what he may be up against. Meredith gave her a long hug before letting her go.

“Be careful. Let me know you’re OK when you can.”

Lillith nodded and went out into the darkened streets having no idea where to start looking.

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


Chapter 15: A Long Day....

Snape stormed out of the workshop and down the street neither knowing nor caring where he went. He was absolutely furious. He wasn’t sure which of a myriad of things angered him the most, but he did know who: himself. What in Merlin’s name had he been playing at?!? He was not the kind of man who pursued a woman just to see if he could get her into bed. He’d never been that way. Then why had he seduced Lillith? He had demanded she subjugate herself to him and she had complied. She had fought him a bit but not too hard and after giving in, she had become a willing and passionate lover. She had loved him as she did everything else – completely and thoroughly. For a split second, his step faltered and his vision blurred at the memory of her before he shook his head and ground his teeth, anger once again at the fore. He did not care for her. He could not care for her. It was too dangerous. He stopped mid-stride and stared with unseeing eyes at the shop sign ahead of him. Why was he even thinking about caring? Surely he didn’t? He’d not cared for anyone else his entire adult life. Not like that.

‘Dear God, don’t let me love her!’ the thought came unbidden into his mind and startled him. ‘Surely not.’ he pleaded before, with an angry scowl, he banished the thought from his mind. Severus Snape did not love anyone. Severus Snape did not believe in romantic love. Unbidden, the picture of Lillith’s calm and pretty face floated before his eyes. And right on its heels the picture of him with his raised hand. He gave an inarticulate howl of anger and lashed out with his fist at a sign on a lamppost. Fortunately it wasn’t very solidly anchored and gave way without breaking his hand. He scowled at the hand before shoving it into his pocket.

Never. Never had he raised his hand to another human being. Memories of his father’s drunken rages, his mother crying out from the blows. Trying to protect him when he was a child, himself trying to protect her when he was older. His mother -- broken, bleeding, dying -- still loving his father. He had sworn he would never, ever, strike another person. And he had raised his hand to Lillith. To someone less able to defend themselves than he was. To someone who trusted him. A wave of shame washed over him followed quickly by more anger. Why had she resisted him? Why couldn’t she just do as she was told? She hadn’t stood up to him about anything before; why this? Damn her! He let out a snarl that sent a small boy and his dog scurrying out of the way.

He walked for hours, driving himself away from his thoughts. At last, in the golden light of late afternoon, he slumped to the ground at the base of a huge old tree. He was in a park somewhere in the city; he had no idea where. He folded his arms on his raised knees and dropped his forehead on his wrists. At long last, his mind was numb, empty of thought.

“Mister?”

He raised his head to see a rather grubby boy of about 10 standing a cautious few feet away.

“Are you alright?” The words were German, but the meaning was clear in the concern in the lad’s eyes.

“Ja, danke,” Snape used almost his entire vocabulary of German.

The boy flashed a toothy grin and was gone.

Snape sighed and looked around at the peaceful park. He was exhausted, hungry and had a lot of work to do. He didn’t spare a thought for the plants and potions. He knew Lillith would have taken care of them. He rubbed a hand over his face and stood. He could not think of her or himself. His mind had to be sharp if he was to gather information and keep himself alive. Straightening his shoulders, he headed into the city streets to get his bearings.

It wasn’t long before he was nearing the wizarding section of town.

~~

The next several hours saw Snape eating, drinking and laughing with his fellow wizards in a small smoky tavern. A large number of the men spoke English, but lack of the native language kept him from knowing all of what was going on around him, a situation that made him very uncomfortable. He gained a little useful information and had finally decided to move to a different place to see what else he could pick up when some very unwelcome news came to him. Malfoy, it seemed, was in town. The men didn’t know his name but the description of the tall, elegant wizard with the haughty manner and the silver headed walking stick left no doubt in Snape’s mind. Taking leave of his new “friends” he wandered out into the relatively clean air of the dark street. He inhaled deeply and shook his head. He had eaten and hadn’t had much to drink, but he was exhausted after his long day of emotional turmoil and the strain of being friendly. What could Malfoy possibly be doing here? Was he following them? Why? Surely not for Voldemort? After all, Snape was on the Dark Lord’s business himself. Not that Voldemort really trusted anyone.

Snape was walking aimlessly down the street lost in thought when his wand suddenly seemed to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at it; it had never done anything like this before. It was lying in his hand when it happened again. Not really a vibration, not a tingling, just a making him aware of the wand’s presence. He turned it slowly and the lamplight shown on his initials wrought in silver. Suddenly he knew. Lillith! The brand -- she was in trouble. He cursed inwardly and tried to calm his thoughts. What would she have done after he left? Finished off the potion and the preserving of the plants, of course. When they were cool, she would pack the jars and the dried and live plants and send them to England. And then, she would come looking for him. Damn her! Alone as well, most likely. Her friends would have no way of knowing the kind of danger for which she could be heading.

He gripped the wand lightly, closed his eyes and cleared his mind. Almost instantly he was turning and heading down a side street. A few blocks later, he was standing in front of an elegant rooming house. It was dark save for a light on the second floor. Snape hesitated a moment. He was still wearing the Muggle disguise Lillith had fashioned for him as it was not unusual for a wizard traveling in the Muggle world to try to blend in a bit. He was debating his next step when he noticed that the curtains in the window with the light were open a bit. Ducking between two houses, he transfigured into a black pigeon and fluttered up to the window ledge. As soon as he landed, he almost fell off again as he started back in surprise. A body had slammed into the wall beside the window, the head impacting hard with the edge of the window frame. Slowly, the senseless body slid to the floor. It was Lillith. Malfoy strode into view, his eyes alight with an eerie pleasure. The silver head of the walking stick, now smeared with blood, rose and fell on the unconscious figure. When it rose a second time, Snape hurled himself against the window pane, scratching and pecking at the glass. Malfoy froze with a startled look to the window. When he saw the bird his eyes narrowed in suspicion and he yanked his wand from the end of his cane, pointing it straight at Snape. Snape flung himself backward off the window ledge cursing his stupidity. He flew away toward the park and didn’t double back until he was sure Malfoy couldn’t see him. Dropping to the ground he was instantly himself again, still cursing his clumsiness. Would Malfoy be suspicious if he showed up at his door? Lillith would die if he didn’t; he knew Malfoy’s reputation.

A wave of his wand and his appearance was almost restored to its former famous look. His hair was still a bit short but it was the best he could do in an instant. Striding up the steps of the house, he took a deep breath, settled a look of bored indifference on his face and knocked loudly. The hostess opened the door and when he inquired about the English wizard staying therein, she directed him up to the second floor. He knocked.

Malfoy opened the door a crack and studied Snape with no sign of either surprise or pleasure. After several long moments of trading stares, he opened the door wide.

“Severus. What a pleasant surprise.” He sounded as though it was anything but. “What are you doing here?” There was no attempt at anything more than the barest courtesy.

“Lucius,” Snape walked to the middle of the comfortable room and turned to face his host, ignoring the crumpled body by the window. “I heard that there was a very elegant English wizard visiting and knew it had to be you. I thought you might be as hungry for the sound of an English voice as I.”

Lucius smiled the thinnest of smiles. Neither of them would ever seek the other out unless he had to and he could only assume Snape was there to spy on him. He walked to the antique sideboard and picked up a crystal decanter.

“Brandy?” He smiled at Snape.

“Thank you,” Snape smiled back.

Malfoy poured the drinks and they raised their glasses. “To.... continued good health,” Malfoy clinked his glass against Snape’s and they both took a sip of the amber liquid.

Snape glanced at the glass and nodded in appreciation. “Very nice. But then, you always have the best.”

Malfoy smiled. “I try.”

Snape strolled over to Lillith’s limp form and looked down with a mildly curious expression on his face. She lay on her side, her knees drawn up protectively and her shoulders and face turned toward the floor. Her hair was matted with blood and he could see fresh blood oozing from a scalp wound. Ever so gently, he slipped the toe of his boot under her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. There was a huge bruise on her jaw and her mouth and nose were bleeding. One eye was swollen shut and the other was not much better. He wasn’t sure if she was conscious until the one eye opened and focused on his face. He studied her impassively, searching her eye for a sign of recognition. It was there. With tremendous effort, he kept his face neutral.

“Not up to your usual standards, this. Bit long in the tooth isn’t she?”

Malfoy waved it off. “A bit, but I couldn’t resist. I bumped into her in the street and she was charmingly frightened of me.”

“Have you raped her yet?” Snape took a sip of his brandy, his eyes never leaving Lillith’s face.

“My dear fellow!” Malfoy protested. “As you said. I’ve just been entertaining myself a bit.” He moved to the sideboard. “More brandy?”

Snape suddenly set his glass down on the table and picked up the lamp. He squatted down and held the light to Lillith’s face. She closed her eye. After a moment he stood and set the lamp down again. Slowly, he turned to face Malfoy.

“Do you realize, my dear Malfoy, who this is?” His voice was casual.

Malfoy froze, his glass half way to his lips.

“What do you mean? She’s some common street whore.”

Snape smiled a truly unpleasant smile.

“Not quite, Lucius.”

Malfoy made an impatient gesture. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Snape turned back to Lillith. “That you’ve picked the wrong woman for your sport this time. I know this woman, as does a third of wizarding London.” He whirled to face Malfoy. “She’s Lillith Marshbanks. She is a supplier of plants, mixer of potions and expert on rare magical plants.” His smile became a grin at Malfoy’s obvious discomfort. “You can’t just dump this body in a ditch. Too many people will miss her and demand answers.”

“Are you sure?” Malfoy looked positively pale. “What is she doing here?”

Snape sipped his brandy. “Probably collecting plants. She does that.” He tossed back his hair.

“Frankly, Lucius, I’m a bit surprised to see you. I thought you had gotten yourself a room at the Azkaban Hotel.”

“That drafty old pile? Hardly my style. And you’re looking well, considering how displeased our Lord was that you were not at his ‘coming out’ party.”

Snape barely smiled. “I was unavoidably detained. Our Lord,” his voice grated a bit on the name, “completely understood.”

“I’m sure he did,” Lucius grinned, then looked back at Lillith, still slumped in the corner. Snape said nothing and Malfoy shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, what do you think I should do?” He waved his glass at Lillith’s still form.

“Do?” Snape smiled. “If it were me, which of course it wouldn’t be, I’d fix her up, modify her memory and hope she never wonders where the missing hours went.”

“What’s wrong with just killing her and leaving the body at the foot of a cliff? Everyone will think she fell gathering flowers or whatever it is she does.”

Snape half turned and gazed down at the bloody, broken face. “Unless I’m mistaken, old chap, that’s your family crest imprinted in the skin of her cheek.”

“Damn!” Malfoy threw his glass into the corner where it shattered. “I’m not good at fixing injuries and while I can do mind erasures, I can’t do the intricate kind of work you’re talking about.” He stared at Snape with menace. “You have to help me.”

“I have?” Snape smiled and sipped more brandy.

“Come now, Severus, we’re on the same team, aren’t we? And you’re good at this sort of thing.” He tried to keep the wheedling tone from his voice.

Snape was about to reply when he remembered Lillith’s warning and modified his answer.

“I do potions and such, but I’m not really a healer. I do know someone here about who might help though, with the proper encouragement.” He smiled. “And I’m certainly up to the mind modification part.”

Malfoy looked as though he had a bad taste in his mouth.

“Well then. You’ll help?”

Snape looked at him for a long time, enjoying his discomfiture. Finally, he set his empty glass aside.

“I suppose. But you will owe me.”

Malfoy looked uncomfortable. “Of course, of course. Just get her out of here.”

“What if she dies anyway?” Snape’s question was casual.

Malfoy looked stricken for a moment. “She can’t be that bad, surely. I only hit her a few times.” He shrugged. “If she does die, I’m sure you can handle it.”

“No doubt I can,” Snape’s reply was airy. “Though I’m damned if I see why I should.”

“Come, come!” Malfoy was impatient. “She’s not going to die! But you’d better get moving.”

Snape raised an eyebrow and watched Malfoy squirm for a long moment. Then he turned to Lillith.

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


Chapter 16: ......And A Longer Night

With the greatest care possible, Snape lifted Lillith in his arms. She didn’t stir and seemed much paler than before. Malfoy stood by and watched as Snape settled her head on his shoulder and with a crack, disapparated.

He arrived back in Meredith’s workshop and with a rather constricted wave of his wand, managed to open and make the couch. He laid Lillith gently on the sheets and after touching her cheek, headed for the house.

He pounded heavily on the door and waited impatiently until it was yanked open by Jon, Meredith at his side. They stared at him with open hostility and he realized he couldn’t talk to them. Holding up his bloody hands, he just said “Lillith” and waved toward the workshop. The couple was off at a run, Snape on their heels. He had lit a lamp by the bed and when they saw Lillith they drew up short. Meredith immediately knelt by the bed and started to check Lillith over. Snape was watching her and was caught totally unawares when Jon turned on him, grabbed him by the shirtfront and slammed him up against the wall. Jon raised a fist but when he realized Snape was not going to defend himself, he stopped. Muttering under his breath, he let go of Snape and turned to his wife who was calling out instructions. She fired of a string of commands and with a nod, he was gone. She then looked at Snape and swore. Once again, he didn’t know the words, but he knew he was being thoroughly cursed. He just stood quietly, feeling more helpless than he had since he was a child. Meredith finally seemed to be done and gestured toward the sink and stove. Snape promptly put water on to boil and brought her a pot of warm water and some clean cloths. She was trying to remove Lillith’s clothes and Snape reached to help. With another curse, she slapped his hands away but he quietly persisted and she finally gave up and let him help. Carefully, they cut and charmed the clothes away and as Lillith’s body came into view, Meredith gave a choked sob. There was barely an inch of skin not covered with deep angry bruises. Again, Meredith swore under her breath but when Snape looked at her, he knew that this time the curses weren’t for him.

They had her undressed and were bathing her face and scalp when Jon returned with a small blond woman in tow. She went straight to Lillith and seeing the extent of her injuries, murmured a prayer as she set to work. Snape knew enough to know he was watching a skilled mediwitch and wondered what Jon had told her to get her to come. Feeling a bit of a fifth wheel, Snape put some tea on to brew and propped himself on a stool in a corner. Jon had gone back to the house and the workroom was almost silent.

Snape’s mind was numb. The extent of Lillith’s injuries left him feeling empty and cold inside. He blamed himself so completely that he had not been able to defend himself against Jon. Had Jon struck him, he wouldn’t have cared. How could he have let this happen? How could he have come to care so much for this stubborn little woman?

Some time later, Snape was startled by a touch on his arm. He had apparently dozed off on the stool and the women had finished their work. Lillith’s head was wound with bandages and she was covered to the chin with a light blanket. The mediwitch was looking at Snape with some concern. He rubbed a hand over his face and raised an inquiring eyebrow. She seemed a bit reassured and cleared her throat.

“My English is not too good, but I will try.” She held up a small bottle. “If she wakes with pain, give her a little of this.” She swapped the small bottle for a large one. “Every four hours, she needs some of this – even if you have to wake her.”

Snape nodded. “How badly is she hurt?”

“Her face,” the woman touched her cheekbone, nose and jaw, “is broken. I have fixed the bones and the cuts. Her ribs were broken on one side, and one arm. They will be fine. I have healed the bruises. But inside, “ she frowned. “Inside I don’t know yet. There was a lot of,” she searched for a word, “hurt.” She looked at Snape with a troubled frown.

“Will she,” Snape had to stop and clear his throat. “Will she be all right?”

The woman sighed. “I don’t know. I will come back at noon.” She looked at Lillith for a long moment. “It would be better if she were in hospital, but Meredith says she would not like that. She says you can care for her.” This last was said with an accusing tone. Snape looked in surprise at Meredith and got a very small nod in return.

“I will care for her,” he assured the mediwitch.

“OK. I will be back at noon.” With that, and a short phrase in German to Meredith, the little witch left the workshop.

Meredith turned and busied herself producing curtains for the windows and tidying up the tea cups in the sink.

“What time is it?” Snape had no idea. It seemed a lifetime ago that he had stormed out of the shop.

Meredith looked a question at him and he remembered she didn’t understand. He sighed and nodded. “Thank you, Meredith.”

She studied him a moment, then came over and astonished him by giving him a quick hug before going out and quietly closing the door.

For several minutes he stood at the edge of the bed staring down at Lillith before, slowly and carefully, he lay down beside her on top of the covers and let his mind slip into oblivion.

~~

The smallest moan roused him instantly. Lillith turned her head and cried out like a frightened child. He grabbed the small bottle off the workbench and sat on the edge of the bed, cradling her in his arms. He gave her a swallow of the medicine and held her gently ‘til she slept against his shoulder.

Snape’s internal alarm clock woke him when it was time for the medicine. He was loath to disturb Lillith’s sleep but knew he had to. She drank the pale liquid without protest and was asleep again before he had laid her head back against the pillow.

Four hours later, he roused her again. This time, pain came with consciousness and he gave her some of the other medicine as well. After that, and a few sips of water, Lillith slept again.

Snape was standing in the middle of the darkened room, his mind unusually blank when a soft knock on the shop door got his attention. It was Meredith and she motioned him outside. Beside her was her ten year old son. He cleared his throat and looked important.

“Mom says how is she?”

“She’s sleeping. She’s had two doses of the regular medicine and two doses for pain.”

The boy translated. Meredith said something.

“Momma says you must come in the house and eat. I’ll stay here.”

Snape looked from one to the other.

“Thank you.”

The boy slipped quietly into the workshop and Snape followed Meredith to the house, marveling at the number of times he had said those words in the last two days.

The tall clock in the hall read 10 and Snape realized he was famished. In the sunny kitchen, Meredith set a plate of steaming food in front of him and then busied herself about the room in silence. The plate, piled with scrambled eggs, sausage, and potato - onion pancakes with apple sauce and creme fraiche, looked and smelled wonderful. A basket of warn homemade biscuits with accompanying honey and jam sat by his mug of tea. Snape ate hungrily and Meredith kept refilling his mug when it neared empty though he could swear she never looked at him.

When he finally rose and placed his dishes by the sink, she motioned him further into the house and up the stairs. He hesitated a moment, then followed. At the end of the hall she gestured toward the bathroom. He saw clean towels stacked on the sink. Looking back at Meredith, she made an impatient wave that took in his dirty rumpled robes and the bathroom. He smiled, went inside the little room and closed the door. Looking in the mirror, he could see her point. Lillith’s blood was still on his clothes and face. He looked more like a corpse than a man.

After a hot shower, he used a shaving spell on his face (he was glad to be rid of the itchy beard Lillith had made him wear), a cleaning spell on his clothes and went back downstairs looking and feeling like a new man. Meredith was nowhere to be seen, but Snape found her sitting beside Lillith’s bed. She rose when he arrived.

Snape managed a genuine smile. “Danke.”

She gave a curt nod and left. He sighed. Although she no longer thought he had inflicted Lillith’s injuries himself, she clearly held him responsible for them, as he did himself. He hung his cloak and jacket on pegs by the door then sat by the bed, staring at his hands. It was not like him to be this muddle-headed. His thoughts chased round and round and he couldn’t seem to stop them. It was totally unlike him to have this lack of control and it made him even angrier.

“Stop.” The word was spoken so softly he almost missed it.

Lillith was looking at him. Her eyes were still a little puffy and bruised but they were clear and alert.

“Stop blaming yourself.”

He ground his teeth. “It was my fault.”

“No. I didn’t have to go looking for you.”

“But of course you would. It’s the kind of impulsive, irresponsible thing you would do and I should have known it would happen. It would have been far too easy for you just to do as you were told.”

“I’m not a child to be ordered about. And what happened wasn’t my fault, either, so you can stop yelling at me.”

A wave of hatred for Malfoy surged through him that was so strong he had to get up and pace the room. Lillith tried to reach out to him but she winced and let her hand fall back on the blanket. Snape was immediately at her side.

“Don’t hate Malfoy,” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Don’t hate Malfoy? Don’t hate Malfoy for what he did to you? For what he’s done to others before and will do to more woman in the future? Don’t hate Malfoy? I’m going to kill Malfoy!”

Lillith gripped his hand. “You mustn’t! Hating him will steal your soul; killing him will kill you.”

“No, killing him will bring me a great deal of satisfaction.” Snape paced the room again.

“It will bring you closer to him; closer to Voldemort.” Her voice was low but strong.

Snape stopped pacing and stared at her. Coming back to the low stool by the bed he sat, head bowed, staring at the floor between his feet.

Lillith touched one long hand. “You need a clear head. You need to be able to think and plan. Your life depends on it, and now,” she swallowed a lump of fear in her throat, “mine may as well. You can’t afford the indulgence of hating someone; can’t afford to give anyone that kind of leverage against you. And the hatred would eat at your soul, killing you.”

“I have something to live for?” The question dripped sarcasm.

Lillith looked angry. “So you’re going to wallow in self-pity instead? Forget everyone else and indulge your hurt feelings? Where would the Order be without you? You can do things no one else can! You have saved lives with your work and will save countless more and you’re going to give it all up for a temper tantrum?! You are not a child anymore; you have people counting on you.”

“Why should I go on risking my life for a bunch of people who hate me?” The unfairness of her statements was making him angry.

“Because that’s what you do. That’s who you are.” She scowled at him. “And you know perfectly well they don’t all hate you, no matter how hard you try to make them.”

He stared at her for a moment and suddenly saw the pale face, the narrowed eyes and the shallow breathing. He was overcome with remorse.

“Lillith, I’m sorry. What am I thinking of, shouting at you?”

She managed a painful smile. “Please, groveling suits you even less. But I would like a drink of water, if you don’t mind?”

He fetched a glass of cool water, propped her up on his arm and they sat in silence while she sipped. When she had drained it all, he lay her gently back on the pillows and she touched his hand.

“You’re the strongest man I know. Don’t let this weaken you.”

He was trying to think of an answer when a soft knock came at the door and Meredith and the little mediwitch came in. They moved Snape out of the way and took over the couch. He moved aside willingly and sat by the wall trying to understand what was going on. After checking Lillith all over, he was immeasurably relieved to see the mediwitch smile and gesture him over.

Lillith smiled up at him. “She’s says you’ve taken good care of me.” Snape snorted. Lillith ignored him and continued. “She says I’m going to mend just fine; that I just have to lie around and take it easy for a few days.”

A genuine smile eased the lines of Snape’s face making him look years younger. Then he thought of Malfoy and a wave of fear washed over him. Quickly, he explained to Lillith what he was supposed to be doing with her and stressed how important it was that no one know the truth. Lillith then spoke at length with Meredith and Greta, the mediwitch, who seemed a bit reluctant at first, casting several unsure glances at Snape. By the time she left, however, she was smiling and Lillith assured Snape that they were safe. They decided that Snape would report back to Malfoy that evening (just to keep Malfoy from looking for him) that he had successfully eased her injuries, selectively modified her memory and left her at the bottom of a rock wall as though she had fallen. He was to report that she had awakened with no memory of the “accident” – which wouldn’t be that unusual – and was spending a few days with friends to totally recuperate before going home. There was no need to let Malfoy know badly he had hurt her.

~~

Snape was withdrawn and rather quiet as he helped Lillith get comfortable in a chair in the garden, then he stood with his back to her.

“Yesterday,” he began, then hesitated. “Yesterday, I raised my hand to you in anger.” His voice was strained almost to breaking. “I’m sorry.”

Lillith stared that the rigid back for several seconds. “You would not have struck me.” Her voice was calm.

He jerked and almost shouted, “That’s not the point!”

“What else matters?” Lillith was watching him closely, trying to get a hint of what was bothering him so.

“It was unforgivable.” His voice sounded hollow.

“No,” she said firmly, “It was not.” She saw him shiver and proceeded cautiously. “You were angry. Your reaction was reflexive. You did not strike me and you never would have.”

“How can you be so sure?” He sounded angry.

“Because you are not a man who strikes another. Regardless of the provocation.” She spoke calmly but with conviction.

“You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can.” She kept her voice matter of fact.

He wheeled around and looked at her, his eyes holding a desperation she couldn’t understand. She gazed back at him and he saw a calm, open face without a trace of doubt.

Snape slumped into a chair and sat with his face in his hands, his thoughts in turmoil, What was happening to him? His entire adult life he had lived with the specter of his father's behavior hanging over him. He had always assumed himself capable of the same ferocious violence but now this woman, this small, quiet stranger was looking him in the eye and telling him that it wasn't true. And all these people, these other strangers, who were nice to him, who treated him with kindness? They didn't know him, that was it. He couldn't speak with them so they couldn't know what he was really like. His thoughts turned to the little boy in the park. The boy who had shown compassion for a stranger was about the same age as his first year students. Those children looked at him with fear and loathing. Partly, he admitted, because of the way he treated them. But he treated them that way, for the most part, because that was the way he was. Or had always held himself to be.

He sighed deeply and a realization came to him, bright and clear as the summer day: he would not have struck Lillith. It seemed a plain and simple fact. He rubbed his face. What other of his carefully held ideas of himself might be different if looked at? He decided that was not something he was ready to do now. Maybe he never would be.

Lillith let him be and after a long while, he lifted his face and carried on as if the conversation had never happened.

They spent the afternoon in the sunny garden, discussing the information Snape had collected and making plans. After dinner – just scrambled eggs, tea and toast for Lillith – Snape got ready to go find Malfoy. He was relieved to find he could face the thought of him without feelings of overwhelming anger and hatred. Lillith sensed this and smiled at him. She took both his hands in hers and lifted them to her face, kissing the knuckles of each one.

“Be careful.”

His face closed to her and his eyes became hard.

“I should stop associating with you.”

She was puzzled. “Why?”

“You might be good for me.”

“Would that be so bad?” She smiled uncertainly at his cold look.

He stared at her for a long moment, his face unreadable.

“It could get us both killed.” He quirked an eyebrow and left in a swirl of black cloak.

Lillith stood in the middle of the room feeling as though a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over her head.

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

To be continued in Part 4