The Arcadia Art Studio in Soho

[elegante_fleur]

Date:April 11, 2000
Time: Just before 2pm
Character(s) Involved: Fleur Delacour-Weasley, Severus Snape, Montague Morsus, (Millicent Morsus?)
Complete
Rating: PG-13 to R (possibility for bad language and conflict?)

Comments

[subtle_simmer]

Severus was here on 'official' business. Business of 'protector'. However, it was just as imperative for him to maintain his ties to the charming Morsus family. As he had no 'proof' of their activities aside from his own certain knowledge of them (and the word of a Murdering Death Eater meant less than nothing to the 'authorities'), the only way to have hope to ameliorate the situation was to continue to observe them as closely as possible.

Besides, Montague and Millicent had been his, and he could not help but feel that he had failed them, or else succeeded too well in leading by example, as they were clearly amongst those of his Snakelets whom he had not been able to turn away from the Death Eater path. He did not believe them to be so imprudent as to behave blatantly illegally unless they were certain of the lack of discovery. It was certainly not by accident that the two had avoided imprisonment thus far!

He did not expect unpleasantness--the Morsus, like so many others, not excluding himself, had learnt to pattern their

[elegante_fleur]

Fleur smiled to Severus almost shyly, suddenly realizing this may be the first time she had been alone with the man. Nodding she moved through the open door ahead of Severus, and using the few moments being the first through the door provided, looked around her mentally taking note of her surroundings

[morsus_et_mors]

It was with the slightest of amused smiles that the receptionist, a tall and graceful old man of around fifty-years-old, informed Montague of the pair in the hall of the gallery. With the information transmitted, he slid out of the door and disappeared in the obscure depths of the numerous passage-ways. Casting a last glance at his reflection in the large baroque mirror, Montague removed specks of non-existent dust from his dark blue high-collared tunic. The tastefully garnished velvet uniform matched his silky black blouse underneath perfectly, fully covering his slender hips clothed in matching black trousers made of gabardine. A smug smirk curling his full lips at once, he left the study, in relished anticipation of what was to follow.

"Salute, Mrs. Weasley," Montague greeted the beautiful femme, taking in the sight of her stylish outfit (if only it were less formal!). "Enchante," he said, his voice silky and suave, as he made to lean for a hand-kissing - a movement that was startled for the briefest of seconds when he noticed

[subtle_simmer]

Severus followed Mrs Weasley inside, but when she began to speak of her errand with Narcissa, he hushed her, urgently.

"Now is not the time to speak of such things," he said very quietly once the receptionist had turned her attention away from the french woman.

Morsus looked resplendent, and dangerous. Severus was more glad of his decision to accompany Mrs Weasley on this visit, even as he suspected it left his own loyalties quite confused in Morsus' calculations.

Confusion, where others' opinions of him were concerned, was his 'friend', and he fostered it as often as he could.

"Mr Morsus," Severus said, returning the respectful bow slightly. "As I have not yet had opportunity to view your collection, I am glad of the opportunity to do so. For the moment, however, I am merely here in role of escort to Mrs Weasley."

His implacable expression betrayed nothing though he met Montague's eyes boldly, secure in his Occlumency.

"Another time, perhaps, I might be granted a visit of pleasure, rather than business."

[elegante_fleur]

At Severus' insistance Fleur was dutifully silenced with a slight flush at having forgot she was not exactly on friendly territory. It seemed too often she allowed her mouth to run away at will.

In any case, she did not miss the emergence of one Montague Morsus. As he approached she took in his fashionable look appreciately; taking note of the care with which he was put together. A man who definitely thought highly of appearances, or at the least outward ones.

She smiled as he took her delicate hand and pressed it to his lips. "Bonjour, Monsieur Morsus." She said with a very slight curtsy and bow of her head. To this man she may be a half-blood, tainted with the blood of the Veela, but Fleur's family had long been in the graces of French society, and Fleur came equipped with her own good breeding.

"Eet eez indeed a pleasure, Monsieur, and merci beaucoup, for zee eenvite."

[morsus_et_mors]

"Please, my gallery is open every day - any visit of yours shall be a balm to my soul that misses the sunny days of the past, Master Snape," Montague replied with a barely visible smile altering the straight line of his lips, before stepping back in front of Fleur. "Who in his right mind would refuse to invite such a beauty? Shall we?" With that he touched Fleur's elbow courteously and urged her onward, leading the guests inside the gallery and into the first exhibition hall

[subtle_simmer]

Morsus was as slick as ever, his flowery words and silken good breeding spinning a cocoon around the unwary with the ease of one who had been raised amongst such words from the moment he could speak

[elegante_fleur]

Fleur smiled to Montague and allowed herself to be lead towards the painting. It was indeed beautiful, and in another lifetime Fleur might have inquired at it's price. But times had changed and while Bill and Fleur were not destitute in any way the vault at Gringott's wouldn't stretch quite far enough to pay for that particular artwork

[morsus_et_mors]

"Duly noted, Master Snape, Mme. Weasley is an adornment to any room, outshining even the most wondrous of gems," Montague bowed to Fleur, one hand behind his back, his whole stature that of poised elegance. "From heaven or hell, O Beauty, come you hence?" he recited slowly with a small smile, his gaze catching that of the beautiful French, stability of his mind barely unflinching, as the part-Veela charms of Fleur's threatened his mental serenity. Montague had to remind himself that the same beautiful woman was not even a full human, a mere hybrid, a shameful stain on the noble family, part human-part animal. That seemed to work and in a few seconds, the polite owner of the Arcadia art gallery was charmingly inaccessible as always

[subtle_simmer]

Severus was at his most wary, his most observant. Morsus had been among those who witnessed some of his own most depraved actions while within the Death Eaters - one of the few 'distinctions' of his 'high' ranking after killing Albus - he, himself, was no longer allowed the anonymity of concealment within the fold. All Death Eaters knew he was among them, and what he had done. Unfortunately, this did not go both ways - Morsus knew a great deal of what Severus had been up to during those years - Severus had little knowledge of Montague in return, or of his wife. Only that Montague had been there, often

[elegante_fleur]

Fleur lifted the glass from the servant's tray and raised it towards the other two with a slight nod. "Merci, Monsieur Morsus." She said as she raised the glass to her lips it dawned on her the possibility that the wine may be tainted. She stole a quick glance at Severus as he raised the glass to his own lips. Her better judgment told her that if Severus felt the drink safe to partake of, or atleast was himself, than she could be less wary of the red wine.

As she took a sip from the goblet she looked up at Severus who had begun speaking and nodded, moving the glass from her lips. "Oui, your 'ospitality is geenerous, Monsieur, but I know you are a busy man, and I do not wish to monopolize your entire afternoon. I am sure you 'ave many ozzer meetings and people to see."

[morsus_et_mors]

"But of course, it wasn't very nice of me to keep you afoot, while the business is waiting," Montague apologized, calling for the servant to take away their glasses once they were done. With an added smile that he always defined as charming, Montague invited his guests to follow him into the study, where all the necessary stationery, or indeed, comfortable furniture was available for relaxed discussion (even despite the fact that the word 'relaxed' suited their current disposition the least

[subtle_simmer]

Severus fell back into his role as 'silent guard' as he followed Mrs Weasley and Morsus deeper into the labyrinth of the gallery. Could he imagine Morsus' ruminations, he would have been simultaneously exceedingly proud, arrogantly dismissive, and disgusted with himself. Proud, because he had succeeded so magnificently in his endeavours' arrogant, because he expected nothing less - he was very good at what he set out to do, after all; and disgusted because of what he had done. And, as Morsus surmised, it was not possible to do such things without deriving pleasure, somewhere.

One has to like performing the Cruciatus, for example, for it to be truly effective

[elegante_fleur]

Fleur was pretty well oblivious to the private musings of the two other men. Perhaps the air was a bit tense between the trio, she thought, but really it was an uncomfortable situation for all. Taking her seat in Montague's office she crossed her legs primly watching as Montague continued around the room

[morsus_et_mors]

The paperwork - what Montague hated the most. It was, perhaps, a remnant of his childhood dislike for all things bureaucratic and office work that his family used to go through at times during their travels in Europe. For a child, even the slightest delay (which in case of paperwork was usually more than just slight) equaled a disaster of planetary scale. An instant scowl appearing over his eyebrows, Montague accepted the papers

[subtle_simmer]

Severus made no attempt to view the papers or read the pledged amount. It was no business of his, and he knew Morsus was too intelligent to expect to be able to 'buy' Minerva McGonagall.

Though, whether one liked the hard, cold fact or not, money did buy power in many forms. Grudging respect borne of unwilling but necessary gratitude was a toe-hold in the door. Severus did not envy Minerva her upcoming battles to keep that nothing more than a toe-hold.

Smirking knowingly at Morsus over Fleur's head, he gave him a small nod of acknowledgment. Morsus knew how to play the game quite well, indeed.

"I'm sure the Headmistress will be pleased with any donation, Montague. No one would consider you anything less than generous, I assure you."