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Title: The Wizard’s Tale: A Continuation
Part 2 contains chapters 7-11
Chapter 7: Discoveries Are Made
They followed the warm smell of freshly baked bread and found a little cafe open to cater to the early trains. After a good breakfast, they wandered around town looking in windows and making a list of supplies. They decided on the best way to carry the plants until they could get somewhere to preserve them properly. When the shops opened, they obtained a map and laid out a route. Lillith’s friend in Belgium had given them a good idea where to look for the plants they needed. They figured if they hiked a route roughly parallel to the border, they could stop in villages on the way and maybe, with a little luck, have all they needed in a couple of days.
Packs bulging, they set out and were soon offered a ride from a farmer in an old truck. He took them well up into the mountains and, parting company at a fork in the road, wished them a cheery farewell. They struck a route cross-country and hiked steadily upward for several hours before taking a break on a rocky outcropping. They had bread, cheese and fruit and Snape made tea. Looking out over the magnificent view they relaxed in the sun, each with their own thoughts.
“When were you at Hogwarts?” The question sounded casual, but given that they hadn’t spoken much since they left town, Lillith knew Snape had a reason for asking. Having a pretty good idea what that reason was, she decided not to prevaricate.
“I started when you were in your fifth year. I don’t remember even being aware of you until your last year.”
“What house?”
“Gryffindor.”
“Figures,” he snorted.
Lillith smiled but refused to rise to the bait.
“You must have been a fan of the Great Potter.” The questions still seemed idle though there was a definite acid undertone.
“No. Didn’t like him much, really. Or his little group. Except Remus.” She smiled. “He was different.”
“He was different, all right.” His voice was sarcastic. He was breaking a stick into tiny equal size pieces. “Why didn’t you like Potter? I thought everyone did.”
“He was too stuck on himself. And he wasn’t very nice.” Lillith sipped her tea. “I hear he grew out of a lot of it. Lilly helped that. But he and Sirius were reckless -- with others’ safety as well as their own. They thought it was great fun to get others in trouble.”
“And you didn’t approve?” There was a hint of disbelief in his voice.
“No. I guess I’ve always been more practical than adventurous.”
“More of a Ravenclaw, perhaps?” He was teasing.
“Oh, no. Still a Gryffindor,” she grinned.
“In what ways?”
“The usual.” Now she was teasing.
He was putting the sticks in a neat pile.
“Potter was good-looking, reckless, brave. If that doesn’t appeal to you, what does?”
“Well,” Lillith studied the horizon. “Integrity, honesty, loyalty, kindness.”
He snorted. “Gryffindor qualities.”
“Qualities not restricted to Gryffindor.” She gave him a quick glance. “You have more integrity then anyone I’ve ever known.”
He gave a sharp bark of laughter. “You must have me confused with someone else.”
“Others turned their backs on Voldemort out of fear. You turned away out of conviction.”
He snorted. “What gives you that idea?”
“Because you not only turned away, you went back -- as a spy. You go into his presence and stand face to face with him again and again, knowing firsthand what will happen to you if he finds out - even suspects - that you’ve turned. That takes more personal integrity, more courage, than I can even begin to imagine.”
They were both silent for a few moments.
“I admire you, Severus,” she turned to look at him. “I truly do.”
“Maybe I’m a spy for the Dark Lord. Certainly, some think I am,” he snarled the words.
“No.” Her voice held no doubt.
He held her eyes for a split second then stood abruptly and started shoving things back into the packs with rather more force than was necessary. Swinging his pack to his shoulder he turned and strode off without a word. Lillith rose and picking up her pack, followed at an unhurried pace. She knew by now he wouldn’t walk off and leave her.
They walked mostly in silence, following old game trails. Lillith stopped frequently to study the terrain and occasionally change their course. About mid-afternoon, they came on a large patch of Twining Morning Star. Growing among it was Purple Spotted Witch’s Cloak, just as Lillith had suspected it would be. They took some of the plants whole with little clots of earth as Lillith wanted to try growing it in England, but most they picked by long stalks, laying each carefully between layers of fabric. They did not take it all as they wanted it to replenish itself and flourish. They both studied the map and the terrain to remember the location without actually having to write it down.
Evening saw them entering a small mountain village where they found only a single room available at the one tiny tavern. After a dinner in which Lillith was almost too tired to chew, they went upstairs. There was a single bathroom at the end of the hall and not having energy to do more, Lillith washed up at the sink. When she came back to their room, Snape excused himself, going off the bathroom to clean up as well. He had turned down the bed on both sides; the packs were stowed neatly side by side in the corner. Lillith barely remembered to put her wand on the bedside table before falling into bed. She was asleep when Snape returned and never felt him lie down. He stretched out beside her, folding one arm behind his head. He was more tired than he had been in a long time but he had to admit it felt good. It was the honest fatigue of hard physical labor. Lillith snored lightly and he looked over at her. She was lying curled on her side facing away from him. He couldn’t help smiling. She had hiked long and hard but never murmured a complaint. Her hands were sure and strong, but caressingly gentle when she handled the plants.
He frowned. Funny thing she had said about him earlier. Before he could give it much thought, he too, was asleep, his wand in his hand.
The next day saw them up with the sun and after a hurried breakfast, they were back in the mountains. The next village was 20 miles of steep, hard trail away and they had to look for plants along the route. They ended up detouring well out of their way and when nightfall came they were still on the trail, a good distance from anywhere.
Snape started a fire while Lillith got water from a nearby stream. Dinner was more bread, cheese and dried fruit supplemented with a salad of fresh greens and mushrooms that Lillith had gathered by the trailside when she went for the water. Snape stirred the greens suspiciously. Lillith watched him, daring him to say anything.
“I suppose you do know what you’re doing,” he admitted grudgingly.
“Gee, thanks,” she was too tired to be really annoyed.
Snape scowled into the distance.
“I could kill something, I suppose. If you want.” His lip curled in distaste.
Lillith smiled. “I don’t want. Thank you anyway.”
“Good,” he poked at the fire. “I don’t like killing things.” It was said so softly she almost missed it. Catching her glance he scowled more. “At least, not things that can’t fight back.”
The statement had a defiant sound to it but Lillith just smiled.
They ate in silence, then Snape asked casually, “Where did you learn so many languages? And everything else you know? Most wizard education isn’t so diversified.”
“Well,” Lillith poured some tea and relaxed against a rock. “My parents were Muggles.”
She saw Snape nod as though she had confirmed his suspicions.
“They were English and I was born in Essex. My father was an anthropologist, my mother a botanist. They were professors.”
“You say were, they’re no longer living?”
“No, they died in a terrorist attack in Lebanon when I was 20.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
“When I was five, we moved to France. It seemed I had my father’s ear for languages and I picked up the language quickly. When I was 9, we moved to Austria and I added German to my repertoire. It was there, from a friend of my mother’s, that I picked up my fascination for medicinal plants. I already knew quite a lot about plants in general from my mother but this lady and I really hit it off and she became a close friend and mentor. I used to haunt her workshop and library. I spent all my free time there until my letter arrived from Hogwarts. Then, my first summer holiday, when I returned to Austria and my friend, I realized that she was a witch! Since I now knew I was one as well, she took her teaching of me to a whole other level. Every summer I returned to her and studied. My parents, meanwhile, moved to Greece. I would spend half the summer with them, half with my friend in Austria.”
“So you speak Greek as well?” She could hear the smile in his voice.
“Yes, and Italian.” Lillith rubbed the side of her nose with a finger. “And a few others.” Her voice was soft, almost apologetic.
“My friend died my final year at Hogwarts. My parents wanted me to get a broader education and talked me into a Muggle university. Science, art, literature, more languages.” She smiled sadly. “My parents died just after I graduated and I came back to England. Medicinal plants was my first love and it was back to that I went.”
She shrugged. “Life history.”
“You never married?”
“Never found anyone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Not yet, anyway.” She laughed.
Snape sat staring at the fire. “My parents were Muggles as well.” His voice was so low she almost didn’t hear him. This was the first mention of anything personal he had made.
“Are they still living?” She was hesitant to ask, to break the spell.
“No.” Snape’s voice was suddenly angry. “My father beat my mother to death when I was 10.” He threw a stick on the fire. “He is dead now as well.”
Lillith flinched and waited but when he didn’t go on she didn’t ask.
The silence drew out and she knew their talk was over. She moved to tidy up the camp and he helped. She then heated some extra water and washed her face, hands and feet.
The night was unusually warm and they wrapped up in their cloaks and stretched out by the fire. They spoke in a desultory fashion about the possible plans Voldemort had in mind for the Purple Spotted Witch’s Cloak. Clearly, he was going to have Snape make up some potion but Snape didn’t know which one. Lillith kept dozing off and Snape finally gave up talking and watched the stars move slowly across the heavens. It was a beautiful night and he wondered how many more years he would be alive to enjoy such things. Lillith was right in how dangerous his chosen path was but he had never given much thought to the consequences. If he died, he died and he couldn’t see that it mattered much - not that he was in any hurry. But now, for some reason, he thought it might matter. He frowned and tried to figure out why, but fell asleep before he came to any conclusions.
The next day they found two large patches of both plants and by mid-afternoon they were ready to head for the next town. They both seemed to have gotten a second wind and hiked easily and almost tirelessly. They spoke little but is was the easy silence of companionability.
*******************************
Chapter 8: The Farmer in the Dell
It was late in the day when they came down from the mountain to the little farm in the steep valley. It had been a long hard day but stored safely in Lillith’s pack was a quantity of both Purple Spotted Witch’s Cloak and Twining Morning Star.
They had been hiking steadily most of the day and Snape was struck again by Lillith’s quiet strength. She kept moving on in an unhurried, sure fashion that spoke of a great economy of motion. He might have been amused to know that she had been admiring his long, graceful strides and the ease with which he moved over obstacles like rocks and fallen trees. They hadn’t spoken much over the course of the day, there being no need. That was another quality Snape admired, or at least appreciated, in Lillith. She didn’t chatter. Fewer things drove him to the edge of distraction faster than someone chatting away with nothing to say.
The farm looked companionable with smoke rising from the chimney of a little house and two children playing in the yard. A roomy barn surrounded by a fenced-in field dominated their view. They stopped just inside the trees and Snape studied the scene below. Lillith respected Snape’s ability to detect magical presence; it was a sixth sense with him and she waited without speaking for his decision. After a few minutes, he gave a nod. They shouldered their packs and headed down the hill into the yard. The kids stopped and stared as soon as they saw them and Lillith called a cheerful greeting in German. One of the children turned and yelled to the house where a woman appeared in the doorway. A man walked from the barn and stood by the children.
“Could you try and look a little less menacing?” She spoke quietly to Snape. His normal scowl deepened for a moment before he plastered what could almost pass for a smile on his face.
He hung back a bit and she went up to greet the farmer. They spoke for several minutes and when she gestured back at Snape he even managed a genuine smile and a wave. After a lot of gesturing and laughing, the farmer accompanied his wife into the house and Lillith came back to Snape.
“They will let us stay in the barn loft for tonight and they will even share some of their food with us. She says they have eaten but she will bring us a couple of plates if we wish. I said we wished.”
Just then, the children came out of the house bearing a plate each. Lillith and Snape sat on the low wall surrounding the yard and Lillith chatted with the children while they ate. The last of the afternoon sun wove its long golden rays among the rows of corn and tomatoes in the garden close by where they sat. A few late birds called to each other in the trees.
When they were finished eating, the children took the plates back to the house and the farmer appeared carrying a lantern. They followed him into the barn where a soft lowing from the cows greeted the farmer. He spoke to the beasts gently and they quieted. The air was rich with the smell of live animals and fresh hay. He showed them the narrow stairs to the loft, then gave them the lantern and the two blankets he had under his arm. With a smile at them both, he went back to the house.
Lillith turned to Snape. “He said there’s a place above the house where the stream widens to a pool and the sun warms the water enough for bathing. I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of cleansing spells and would really love a good wash. I’m going to go up while there’s still a little light.”
“You shouldn’t go alone.”
“Fine. Come with me, I’m too tired to care. Of course,” she smiled, “I expect you to be a gentleman and turn your back.”
He shook his head and followed her up the hill. The pool was small and the water not that warm but it was incredibly refreshing and Lillith enjoyed a thorough scrub and shampoo. Using a drying spell she quickly dressed and then sat on the grass.
“Your turn.”
Snape looked down his long nose at her. “I do not need you to stand watch over me.”
“Maybe not,” she replied. “But do you want me wandering down there by myself?” She waved at the darkening farmyard.
He looked slightly chagrined and she gave him a wicked smile. “I promise I won’t peek.”
He snorted and moved to the pond’s edge. She laughed and relaxed on the soft ground.
Snape was done and dressed in no time and they walked side by side to the barn. Even though the sky had not yet lost the last of the sun’s light, the stars were becoming increasingly visible. The Milky Way threw itself across the heavens like a thick blanket. The pinpricks of light were so thick, they looked almost like a solid mass.
“By the way,” Lillith sounded casual. “They think we’re husband and wife.” Snape looked startled. “They’re pretty old fashioned and I wasn’t sure they’d let us stay otherwise.”
Snape merely nodded, then lighting the lantern with his wand, preceded her up the steep stairs to the loft. He prowled around checking the big, airy loft while Lillith carried their packs to a corner filled with loose hay. Kicking it around a bit she made a soft nest. It was getting steadily colder as it got darker; not at all like the previous night. She shivered. “I’m glad we have the blankets. That was kind of him. I hope a cloak and a blanket will do.”
“It will have to.” Snape had come to stand beside her. “Unless........”
“Unless what?” Rummaging in her pack, Lillith wasn’t paying much attention.
“Unless we share?”
Lillith raised her head and gave him a startled stare. He smiled. “We are husband and wife, after all.”
She stared at him dumbfounded. Never in all their time together had he given any indication that he was even aware of her as a woman. Of course he knew she was but he had never given any sign that he thought of her as more than a hindrance. She, on the other hand, had been well aware of his strong male presence from the start.
Snape fiddled with the lantern, his back to Lillith. He was curious as to what her reaction to his suggestion would be. They had shared a bed two nights ago, but that had hardly counted with Lillith falling asleep before he had even joined her. Except for a couple of comments, she hadn’t seemed to notice him as a man at all, simply as a business partner. He, however, had been becoming more and more aware of her neat, compact body beneath the baggy clothes. Not that he was interested in anything to complicate the trip and sex certainly seemed to have a way of complicating things. But he couldn’t deny that her woman’s body had gotten his attention. And she wasn’t a bad sort, really.
She cleared her throat. “That would be practical.”
He turned toward her. “Then it’s settled.” He raised his eyebrows. “You are always practical, aren’t you?”
She gave a small smile. “I like to think so.”
He spread one blanket on the hay then spread the other and the two cloaks over the top. With a sweeping bow he smiled at her. “After you.”
“Right,” she fidgeted nervously for a moment, then dropped onto the blanket.
She took off her boots and setting her wand beside her, crawled under the pile of wool. After another quick check, he placed a protective spell around the loft and, wand in hand, joined her. Lying on his back, he stretched out an arm invitingly. She studied him a moment with an unreadable look. He raised one eyebrow and waited, almost as if daring her to accept his offer. Carefully, she moved into the curve of his arm, turned and settled her back against his side. He wrapped his arm around her and lay still. After a minute or two she sighed and relaxed, snuggling closer, straightening her legs against his; enjoying the warmth of him. He smiled to himself and lay staring out the window at the rising moon.
What an odd woman she was, he thought as he watched the night sky. Most women -- most people -- were cowed by his black countenance and it was easy to keep them away with a scowl. Lillith, however, was not only not cowed, she seemed impervious to his moods altogether. She never reacted to him but continued to be her normal, cheerful self. She always spoke to him as though he were an intelligent, rational, friendly person and did not tiptoe around his moodiness. The only other people to treat him that way were Dumbledore and Tonks.
He frowned at the thought of Tonks. He had always assumed Tonks simply didn’t know any better. After all, the only other explanation for her not being afraid of him was that she trusted him – and he had given her scant reason for that. She could trust him, of course, but he saw no reason for her to know this. Other than the visit in the hospital, he hadn’t seen Tonks alone since she had patched him up in her aunt’s workshop. She seemed to have burned off any sexual interest she had in him and now appeared to regard him as something of an older brother. He shuddered. Merlin deliver him from oversexed young witches.
After several days of Lillith’s company, he found himself less moody and more inclined to talk. Not “chat,” but they had enjoyed long conversations about plants, potions and potion preparation and he found her to be extremely knowledgeable and able to think outside the expected norms. In fact, she had made some proposals and had some ideas that had him fairly itching to get back to his lab.
He looked down at her sleeping face resting against his arm. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her ribs under his hand as she slept. She seemed so unaware of him sexually, he found himself wondering what it would be like to make love with her. With a frown he looked back out the window. That kind of thinking would lead to nothing but trouble.
The moon rose, casting long beams of light into the loft, turning everything shades of silver and gray. Lillith stirred and Snape looked at her again. Curious. She didn’t seem to mind being in close physical proximity with him. A thought grew in his mind. Could she simply be doing exactly as he was? Pretending not to notice? Perhaps it would be worth the trouble to find out......
****************************************
Chapter 9: A Few Surprises
Sometime in the predawn, Lillith awoke. She was wonderfully warm and comfortable. As her senses slowly returned, she became aware of laying on her side, a warm body pressed up against her back. She lifted her head to look out the loft window. The sky was barely showing any light and she knew she had a little while before having to rise. Her movement, slight though it was, disturbed Snape and he rolled onto his back.
Creating as little disturbance as possible, she rolled over and snuggled into his side. Snape promptly rolled toward her, forcing Lillith onto her back as he pinned her legs with one of his own. His lips came down on hers in a firm kiss. His tongue parted her lips and she drew him into her mouth greedily. Sliding his hand up her belly and under her shirt, he cupped her breast. She hadn’t put a bra on the evening before after bathing and Snape grunted his approval as his long fingers closed over her breast and began massaging her firmly. She moaned into his mouth and arched into him, her hands coming up and tangling in his hair. He lifted her shirt up under her arms and lowered his head to lick and kiss her hard nipples. She moaned again, pulling his head down against her. His hand slid down her belly and under the waist of her slacks. She froze and he instantly stilled his hand. His lips came back up to hers and he kissed her gently. Then, slowly, he moved his lips over her jaw and down her neck, nibbling and licking and kissing. Her hands began kneading his shoulders.
“Do you want me to stop?” It was a husky whisper in her ear.
She whimpered in frustration.
“Tell me what you want?”
“I don’t know,” she gasped.
“Don’t you?” His hand came back up and covered her breast. His lips trailed down to the other nipple and he bit her lightly. She cried out softly. While his lips, teeth and tongue teased one nipple his long fingers caressed and massaged the other breast. Lillith gasped and arched her back, pressing his head closer. He worked from one breast to the other, sometimes rubbing her belly gently as well.
“Oh, please,” she gasped out.
Spreading her legs with his knee he moved between her thighs and thrust his hips snugly against her. She cried out and he raised his mouth to hers, kissing her long and passionately. She could feel his erection hard between them.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I.... I,”
“Yes?” His hips moved against her again and she arched her back to meet him.
Her hands were working his shirt free of his trousers when she suddenly gasped and rolled to the side, flinging him off her. Her left hand came up with Snape’s wand in it and a stupefying spell sizzled into the air. Snape was on his feet, in a second, grabbing his wand from the blanket where Lillith had dropped it. Cautiously he approached the bundle of feathers that had fallen to the hay near where they had been laying.
Lillith was on her feet as well, her own wand now clutched in her right hand as she lit the lamp.
“Is it really an owl?” Her voice trembled a little.
He stooped over the bird and touched it with his wand, murmuring a spell. Nothing happened. He straightened up and turned to her with a smile. “Yes, it appears to be just an innocent barn owl.”
“Is he OK?” She started forward a step.
“I think so, though he’ll be out for awhile. You hit him pretty hard.” He picked the owl up and sorting out his feathers a bit, tucked him safely in the v between two beams.
“I didn’t know what it was. I just saw the movement over your shoulder.”
“I’d like to think,” he said with a droll smile, “that my lovemaking creates such an all-consuming passion in my partner that the sky could fall unnoticed. But given our present situation, I’m glad it didn’t.”
Lillith blushed furiously.
“How did you put your hand on my wand so quickly?” he was frowning a bit. She shifted her feet and looked down.
“It had rolled against my side. I could feel it; it was prickly. And distracting.” She looked up at him.
“I’m surprised you were able to hold on to it long enough to cast a spell.” He noticed her left hand was clenched against her stomach. He strode up to her and held out his own hand. “Let me see.”
Trembling, she held out her hand and opened her fingers. The entire palm was red and blistered and a deep, angry groove was burned into it across the palm and fingers where she had gripped Snape’s wand.
“Sit.”
She sank gratefully into the hay, her hand cradled against her body again. He dragged his pack over and sat cross-legged in front of her. Pulling out a jar of ointment he unscrewed the cap.
“Give me your hand.” She obeyed at once laying it on his palm. He studied it for a moment then raised his wand. He hesitated and looked at her. “Would you rather do this?”
She just shook her head and he passed the wand slowly above her hand from wrist to finger tip. A great deal of the redness and most of the blisters went away. He then spread the ointment generously over her palm making sure to coat between of each finger. Then once more he passed the wand over her hand. Now, the only thing left was a slight reddening and the nasty groove, which while looking much improved, was still very deep and painful looking. He then covered her hand with dressings and wrapped it up gently. Tucking in the ends of the bandage, he held her hand in both of his for a moment, then stroked the back of it gently. Digging in the pack again, he handed her a bottle.
“One swallow.” She gulped it down and made a face.
“Is that better?” He seemed genuinely concerned.
“Much,” she sighed deeply. “And if ever I needed proof that you weren’t a Death Eater, which I didn’t, I have it now.”
He was instantly suspicious. “What do you mean?”
She gazed at him in slight wonderment. “You have healing hands, Severus.”
He still looked suspicious. “I’ve learned some healing skills. It’s only natural with all the potions I make.”
She shook her head. “No. A person can study all they want and can even become quite skilled, but true healers are born, not taught. You have a healing touch.”
He looked uncomfortable. “Even if that were true, what does that have to do with my being or not being a Death Eater?”
“Well,” she suddenly looked embarrassed. “It hasn’t been proven, I guess, but Dumbledore and I were discussing it and he agrees.”
Snape closed his eyes for a moment, looking inward for patience. “Start at the beginning.”
She took a deep breath. “A year or so ago, two men came to my home in the evening. One was hurt and they said they had heard I had some skill as a healer and wanted me to look at the man’s arm. I suggested they go to a mediwitch as I wasn’t licensed and they insisted they hadn’t the time and that the man was in great pain. The left arm was clearly broken and nothing had been done for it. Most reasonably competent wizards can at least do first aid on a broken bone, though not all can repair them properly, but nothing at all had been done for the man. I took them to my workshop and asked him to remove his coat and shirt. He took off the coat but refused to remove the shirt. It was, I might add, a very warm night. I fixed up the arm and gave him some potion to take away and the other man left me a great handful of galleons. He hinted that I should not mention their visit. It seemed odd, especially since the man who was not hurt had the aura of a powerful wizard.
“A few days later my niece was visiting and I mentioned the incident to her. She asked me which arm was broken and I told her. She then asked me to describe the men, which I did. She then suggested I accompany her to London to speak with Dumbledore. Apparently, they fit the description of a couple of known Death Eaters – the one being Malfoy. When I spoke with Dumbledore about how odd it seemed that Malfoy hadn’t helped the other wizard, he said that he has suspected for some time that Death Eaters were very poor at healing skills. He said he had known dark wizards to die of injuries that should have been easily cared for. We came to the conclusion, which makes perfect sense to me, that a Death Eater can’t be a healer.”
“I still don’t follow the logic.” Snape was frowning.
“Healing,” Lillith went on, “true healing power, comes from the heart and from the soul. Death Eaters don’t have hearts, and I’m not at all sure about their souls.” Snape was looking at his hands. “Conversely, a true healer can’t be a Death Eater.” They sat in silence for a minute. “I don’t know if Voldemort has tripped to the same conclusion, but you might want to be careful when you go..... well, when you’re around him or any of the others.”
He sighed. “One more thing of which to be careful.”
Lillith reached out and touched his arm. “About time to go, isn’t it? Before the farmer and his family are up?”
Snape started and looked around at the loft which had been growing lighter for some time. Quickly, they gathered their things, folded the blankets and extinguished the lamp. With Snape carrying both packs, they went down the steps. Lillith left the farmer’s things and a few coins by the gate and they started down the road, side by side.
*************************
Chapter 10: A Declaration Made and an Invitation Issued
They walked the dusty road to town, Lillith lagging behind Snape several paces. Her thoughts and emotions were in turmoil and she didn’t want him to see her face.
Physically, she trembled. Her hand throbbed from its injury and these signals waged a war with the memory of Snape’s earlier attentions. So much had happened so quickly. His sudden assault on her senses had taken her completely by surprise and overwhelmed her defenses. She was certainly no stranger to sex, but had discovered early on that for her, sex for the sake of sex outside the closeness of a caring relationship just wasn’t that fulfilling. But never, in or out of a relationship, had a man awoken such passion - and so quickly!
She didn’t want to be in a relationship with this man. She was sure he had no interest in a relationship either. So what? her mind asked. She knew when they returned to England, their association would be over. She may never see him again. So what? her inner voice asked again. What’s wrong with a little mind-blowing sex to make the time pass more quickly? What was wrong, she realized, was that she was becoming rather fond of the Grumpy Bastard, as Tonks called him. She did not want to fall in love with him and she knew that might happen if she gave in to what, she had to admit, she very much wanted.
She shivered. The surprise, the passion, the fear when she had seen the owl, the searing pain from the wand, Snape’s gentle healing touch. Her steps slowed further and her mind slipped into neutral.
“Can’t you keep up any better than that?” The nastiness of the question and the ugliness of his expression spurred Lillith to rouse herself and quicken her pace.
Snape’s mood had become blacker and blacker as they walked. He hadn’t really meant to be quite that nasty to her, but why was she lagging so? His own thoughts tended to make him walk faster, though he didn’t realize this.
When she had turned to him that morning, he could not resist seeing what she’d do if he pushed her. Her response had startled him. He’d never imagined the passion that lurked behind that serene exterior. The fact that she balked at him touching her below the waist only added to the intrigue. He didn’t know what was behind that – she certainly seemed more than willing up to that point – but he didn’t think her resistance would take much to overcome. He smiled to himself. Not only would he overcome her resistance, he would make her beg for him. Just punishment for thwarting his first advance.
He shuddered and eased his shoulders inside his jacket. Something about that last thought had made his own skin crawl but he refused to examine it more closely.
He shook his head and increased the length of his stride a bit more. Damn that about Death Eaters not being healers! While he didn’t think of himself in those terms, he had known for a long time that he possessed an abnormal ability to heal. He wracked his brain trying to remember if he had ever displayed that ability in front of the others.
Lillith was falling behind and when he turned she had looked like a frightened, lost child. For some reason this had made him even angrier and he had lashed out at her slow pace.
Snape’s angry outburst had woken Lillith up. Rarely one to indulge in morose thoughts or self pity, she forcefully put her doubts and fears aside and considered the problems to hand. After a few minutes’ thought, she called to Snape.
“We need to talk.”
Snape was suspicious. “About what?”
“About what we’re going to do next.”
“Oh,” Snape sounded relieved and slowed, waiting for Lillith to catch up.
“Do we have enough of the Witch’s Cloak, or do we need to keep looking?”
Snape considered. “I think we have enough. There is enough for the Dark Lord’s purposes and some extra to have on hand for the Order. Do you really think you can cultivate it in England?”
“I don’t know. It’s worth a try, always considering whether I can get these plants back alive.”
“You or the plants?” He smirked.
She gave a small smile. “There is that, isn’t there? But so far, we’ve been all right.”
“So far.”
She looked at him and waited.
“I still have some more work to do.”
“Oh,” Lillith looked down.
“It doesn’t concern you, though,” Snape said rather loftily. “You can go back with the plants.”
Lillith swung around in front of him and stopped.
“You’re not packing me off home!”
He looked at her angry face and smirked. “You really think you can help me?”
“Why not?”
“Because, Innocent, I need to go places where strangers are not only not welcome, they are killed. After being are tortured, of course.” Lillith opened her mouth to protest but he went on. “And protecting you, just being with you, would expose me to very grave danger.”
“Oh.”
Snape walked around her and kept going. She caught up, laid a hand on his arm and stopped him. Snape studied her hand for a moment before transferring his gaze to her face. She removed her hand but stood her ground, looking him in the eye.
“I may not be able to go where you go, or help you gather information, but I am not going back to England without you.”
His face was unreadable as he studied her.
“We’ll see.”
“It’s not negotiable.”
Snape snorted. “And if I die?”
Lillith matched his stony look. “Then I will return with your body.”
A peculiar expression twisted his face before he turned and strode away from her.
They walked another half hour without speaking. The sun was climbing higher and the air was starting to get uncomfortably warm. Lillith was getting hungry.
“How do you want to prepare the plants?”
“Well,” Snape welcomed the change of subject. “I’m not sure which method will best suit our purposes. Some can be dried, some can be stored in oil and others will need a certain fixative.” He frowned. “We’ll need a place to work and supplies.”
“We? I’m pretty good at this sort of thing, you know.” She couldn’t help sniping at him.
“With one hand? And what, now you’re trying to get rid of me?”
Lillith flushed. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually this touchy.”
Snape shrugged.
“Do we need to go into this town?” Lillith waved vaguely at the distant town concealed behind tall forest. “What I mean is, if we are through gathering, I have a friend in Salzburg who’s an apothecary. I’m sure she’ll lend us some workspace and she’ll certainly have everything we need.”
Snape stopped dead and looked at her. “Is there anywhere you don’t have friends?”
Lillith managed a weak smile. “I’ve never been to New Zealand.”
“Do you know the Wizard section of Salzburg? A little second-hand bookshop on Turndown Street called Eddington’s Editions?”
Lillith’s face brightened. “Why, yes, I do!”
Snape gave a huge sigh. “Shall we Apparate?”
“To the room in back?”
He nodded, “After you.”
The shop was stuffy and smelled of dust and old books. Lillith smiled a greeting to the puzzled looking shop keeper as they wove their way past stacks and piles of books and went out into the sunny street.
“Remember your limp!” she whispered at Snape.
He leaned close to her ear. “Are we still married?”
“No!” she hissed her reply. “Let’s get something to eat before we descend on Meredith.”
He nodded and they turned into a small cafe. The room was decorated gaily with blue and yellow tablecloths and flowers. Their meal was a quick and quiet affair. Although she was getting used to them, Snape’s sudden mood changes could still disconcert her on occasion.
Three quarters of an hour and a good meal later, Lillith felt like a new person. After obtaining directions, they were on their way to the floo station. They paid a small fee were each given a handful of floo powder. They waited in a short line at a long wall of fireplaces while witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes took their turn. Lillith nodded to Snape, tossed the powder into the grate and called, “23 Sunstyle Lane.” She stepped into the flames and disappeared. A few seconds later, Snape followed.
Lillith shot into a sunny kitchen and startled a small compact witch standing at the sink. The witch turned with a cry and after seeing Lillith, threw her arms wide and cried out, “Lilly! How good to see you!” They were in the midst of a hug when Snape shot out of the fireplace. “Oh!” Meredith stepped back and eyed the tall wizard.
“Meredith, this is my friend, Israel Yates. He’s from Australia and is here on a plant gathering project with me.”
“How do you do?” Meredith extended her hand.
“He doesn’t speak German,” Lillith explained as the two shook hands. She then looked at Snape. “She doesn’t speak English.” He smiled at the little witch and she relaxed a bit.
“Meredith, we need your help.” Lillith went right to the point. “We have some important plants that need careful preparation and shipping.” She hesitated a moment looking concerned. “It might be better if you don’t know exactly what we’re doing.” She sounded apologetic.
Meredith studied her. “I trust you, Lilly, there’s no problem there.” She looked at Snape leaning against the kitchen counter, his usual scowl in place. Lillith followed her look. “It’s OK, Meredith, really. We’re together.” She lowered her voice. “Dumbledore sent us.”
Meredith’s face cleared. “Well, in that case. Lilly, you know where my workshop is and everything is in there somewhere. Can you find it? I’m right in the middle of baking a cake for Franz; he’s my youngest. He turns 8 tomorrow!”
“Sure, Meredith, and thank you. We’ll be fine.”
“Do you need lunch?”
“No, we ate a late breakfast in Turndown St before coming over.”
“I’ll call you for tea,” Meredith waved her off and went back to her cake.
The shop was on the other side of the gardens. Bees worked busily over large plots of herbs fragrant in the warm sun. The little building was covered over its entire exterior with roses and the inside was bright with sunshine from plenty of large windows. The tables and counters were neat and well ordered. Snape nodded his approval as he hoisted their packs onto a workbench. They went to work unpacking and Lillith turned her attention first to the live plants, relieved that they hadn’t been crushed on the journey. Snape started collecting the things they would need and Lillith moistened the little plants and set them in a cool spot out of the sun.
Lillith found the drying racks and asked, “How much?” Snape divided out some of the plants and handed them to her. She spread them carefully on the racks and looked a question at Snape. Without a word he picked them up and she held the door for him. After setting the racks outside, he returned and went back to work. For several hours they worked side by side, speaking only when necessary and then rarely in complete sentences. They were both knowledgeable enough to know, or guess, what the other was doing and what was needed. Meredith found them working in easy silence when she came in the door bringing a tray of tea, fresh biscuits, honey and jam.
“Can you break for a few minutes?”
Snape looked at Lillith and smiled. “Go ahead. I may even join you in a bit.”
Lillith nodded and went out the back door to sit on the little patio with Meredith. She was surprised to see how far the sun had dropped in the sky. Meredith was studying Snape through the window.
“He’s not a bad looking man.”
Lillith laughed softly. Meredith’s eyebrows rose.
“Complexity personified.” Lilly’s tone was ironic. “And grumpy most of the time.”
“Oh, dear.” Meredith sighed. “What happened to your hand?” She nodded at the bandage on Lillith’s hand, now considerably spotted and soiled.
“A burn. On a pot. I wasn’t thinking and picked it up without a cloth.”
Meredith’s eyebrows rose. “And you couldn’t heal it.”
Lillith shifted uncomfortably. “It’s rather deep.”
“And magical?” Meredith persisted.
Lillith just shook her head. Meredith sighed. “I’ll not pry. Is it healing all right? Do you need anything for it?”
“It’s doing well, really.” She smiled shyly. “He has healer’s hands.”
Both Meredith’s eyebrows rose. “I notice you didn’t say he was a healer.” She waited.
“No,” Lillith looked pleadingly at her old friend. “It really is best if you don’t know.”
“All right, Lilly.” She frowned. “Be careful, though.” She glanced up as Snape joined them. “Of everything.”
Snape graciously accepted a cup of tea and helped himself to a biscuit with honey. He was more relaxed than Lillith had seen him and wondered if it was the work as well as the sleepy atmosphere of the sunny garden that was working this magic. They sat in friendly silence for awhile, then Meredith asked, “You’ll be staying with us?”
“I don’t want to impose,” Lillith started.
“Nonsense. We have a spare cot in the house that will sleep one and there is a pull-out couch here that I’ve spent many a night on when something needed watching. From the smell of what you’re brewing, it’ll need stirring off and on all night. Of course, that couch can sleep two, if they got on well enough.”
Lillith blushed a deep crimson and Meredith laughed gaily. “Just wanted you to know that you don’t have to come in just to keep up appearances. Though you are welcome to, of course.”
Snape was looking from one to the other, curiosity in his face.
Meredith rose and with a wave of her wand gathered the tea things and balanced the tray in the air in front of her. “Guess I’d better be getting back to work. I’ll send one of the boys when supper’s ready.”
Snape and Lillith had risen when Meredith had and when she was gone, they re-entered the shop. Lillith sat on the high stool by the counter and stirred the cauldron. Snape put his hand over hers.
“It doesn’t need stirring now. What was that all about?”
Lillith moved to the sink and started washing things with one hand.
“Nothing. Just girl talk,” she blushed anew.
Snape turned her by her shoulders and tipped up her chin with one hand. He rubbed his thumb over her burning cheek. “Did she ask you if we were sleeping together?”
“No! No, she just said that there was a spare cot in the house and if the potion needed tending, there was a couch out here.” Lillith turned away again.
“A pull-out couch.” She could hear the smile in his voice but didn’t turn around. His arms came around her from behind and held her gently.
“Will you stay with me, Lillith?” He voice was soft and low in her ear.
She gulped and shivered as his warm lips kissed her neck.
“Won’t you tell me what you want?” The voice was silky and caressing, flowing over her like a warm breeze. She closed her eyes and leaned back against him.
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Chapter 11: That Which Does Not Kill Us...
Suddenly he was gone and she had to set her hand on the counter for balance. She looked at him blankly and he smiled innocently. “Potion needs stirring.”
She nodded dumbly and sat back on the stool, staring at the wall, suddenly feeling exhausted.
He studied her for a moment then reached out. “Give me your hand.” She started to hold out her right but he scowled at her. “Your other hand.”
“Oh,” she complied, realizing that it was throbbing badly.
He unwound the soiled bandage and studied the hand, turning it this way and that in the sunlight. He set it back in her lap and frowning, went and rummaged through the cabinets, opening and smelling bottles and jars and studying labels. Finally he found an assortment that suited him and reaching behind him toward her said, “Come.” She approached him where he stood by the sink and he turned, frowning at her.
“It’s not doing as well as it should be. My wand has a powerful spell on it and you held it far too long.”
She stared blankly at her hand. The burn was dark red and angry looking and the surrounding skin was puffy and red again. He positioned himself behind her leaning her against the sink, his right hand crossed over in front of her pinning her right arm to her side and his hand was clamped on her left wrist. He held a green bottle in his left hand.
“This is going to hurt.”
She nodded without answering.
“This is really going to hurt.”
“OK,” she whispered.
He reached down and bit her earlobe hard at the same time he emptied the bottle over the palm of her hand.
She shrieked and struggled against him. She felt as though she couldn’t draw any air into her lungs and her knees were giving way when his teeth closed on the top of her shoulder. The deep pain brought her to her senses again and she snapped her head back feeling it impact with his. She fought blindly but he continued holding her hand over the sink while the potion bubbled a thick, stinking yellow. After several seconds, the bubbling stopped and he immediately poured another clear, cool liquid over it to wash away the foam. This liquid soothed the outraged tissue of her hand and she almost wept in relief.
Wrapping a clean towel around her hand he led her back to the stool. She was shaking and he shoved a beaker into her good hand.
“Drink this.” She was barely aware of his voice but obeyed automatically.
“What’s going on?” Meredith was in the doorway, hands on hips. “Lillith, are you all right?”
Lillith nodded, setting the beaker on the counter with a trembling hand.
Meredith stomped over and looked at Lillith’s hand, drawing in her breath sharply at the sight of the burn. “Sweet Merlin!” She scowled from one to the other of them. “That’s no ordinary burn.”
Lillith was silent. Meredith’s eyes narrowed and she picked up the empty bottle from the sink. Her eyes opened wide in horror as she read the label.
“You poured this over her hand?” She fairly screamed at Snape.
Snape looked to Lillith.
“He wouldn’t have if he didn’t need to, Meredith.” Her voice was weary.
Meredith hurled the empty bottle into the trash so hard it shattered. “Bastard!” She yelled at Snape. “Black-hearted bastard!” He backed up a step. Lillith stood up between them.
“No, Meredith. It’s OK. He knows what he’s doing, really he does. He wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t necessary,” she pleaded with her outraged friend. “Please, let him finish.” She was swaying slightly. “Go on,” she pleaded. “Please.”
Muttering under her breath, Meredith left the workshop. Lillith sank heavily onto the stool.
After making sure her hand was dry, Snape soothed ointment over it and covered it with a clean dressing. He slowly passed his wand over it as he had that morning, then setting the wand down, held her hand between his for several seconds. He handed her another beaker and instructed her to drink. This liquid was bitter and she made a face. Taking the empty beaker from her he set it on the counter then smoothed her hair back from her damp face with his long fingers. She looked at him dully.
“It will heal better now.” She nodded and he led her to the couch. She lay down and he covered her with a blanket. Crouching down beside her, he pulled the blanket up to her chin.
“Sleep a bit. I’ll wake you for supper.”
She murmured and was asleep almost instantly.
A knocking roused her from her nap and she sat up feeling groggy. A boy of about 10 was standing in the open door of the shop glancing worriedly between her and Snape.
“Momma says to tell you supper’s ready.”
Lillith thanked the boy and he fled. She got unsteadily to her feet and looked around the shop, lit now by the golden light of early evening. Snape was adding something to one of the two bubbling cauldrons.
“Go ahead,” he said without looking up. “Enjoy yourself and have a visit.”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
He shrugged.
Lillith rubbed a hand over her face. “Why do I feel so awful?”
He studied her for a moment. “The potion, probably. You’ll feel better after you eat.”
“OK,” she said listlessly. “I’ll bring you something.” With that she wandered out of the shop, across the garden and into the house.
She did indeed feel better after eating and the table, surrounded by three active boys, Meredith and her husband Jon, was a lively and entertaining place. After the table was cleared, Lillith loaded up a plate and went back to the workshop.
Snape was sitting on the tall stool stirring a cauldron with one hand and holding a book with the other.
Lillith set the plate next to him on the counter and looked at the book.
“Shakespeare!”
He closed it and set it aside reaching for the plate with his other hand. “Do you know of him?”
“Yes, though not personally.” She couldn’t help teasing. “Where did you get the book?”
“I slipped back to the bookstore while you were ‘freshening up’ after lunch.”
He picked up the plate and sniffed it.
“Are you always so suspicious?” There was a laugh in her voice.
“I may not speak the language, but I can tell when I’m being called names. I don’t think your friend likes me.” He picked up the fork and started eating.
The light from the lamp flickered over his face and Lillith saw a dark bruise blossoming on his cheek bone. She started to reach for it but stopped, her hand halfway.
“Where did that come from?”
“The back of your head, I believe,” he said dryly.
Lillith looked stricken. “I’m sorry.”
Snape slammed his hand down on the bench. “For Merlin’s sake woman, don’t apologize! You didn’t do it on purpose, even though you did have every right.”
She drew out her wand cautiously. “Will you let me?”
Without a word he set down the fork, raised his face to her and fastened his eyes on hers. She touched her wand gently to his cheek and murmured a healing spell. The bruise faded away.
Snape raised his hand and felt where the bruise had been. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “If you’re done, I’ll take the plate back.”
He pushed the empty plate away. “You’re feeling better.” It was a statement.
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Are you enjoying your visit?”
Her smile became a grin. “Very much!”
“And will you come back to me when the visit is over?”
Lillith flushed and looked down.
Snape slid off the stool and reached out, sliding his hand into the hair at the back of her head, drawing her close. His kiss was long and gentle; sweet and undemanding. Lillith’s hands came up against his chest to steady herself. He ended the kiss and sat back on the stool.
“Come back to me, Lillith.” She looked into his intense black eyes and felt weak. Grabbing the empty plate, she hurried out the door.
Snape smiled and went back to reading.
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To be continued in Part 3