Pandora's Box: Chapter Five
well, finally. the much awaited.... i think.... next chapter of Pandora's Box. took me a while to get to it. but that's because Edward and Gabe were both being insistent. now that i've finished with them.... i can get some other stuff done. i hope you like this chapter as much as you likes the last ones. and i have to admit.... i had a good laugh writing this. i'm so mean. you'll see why when you get there.
Title: Pandora's Box
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: adult, mature. no one under 18. not even with a parent. no smut for you kiddies.
Warnings: sex, language, possible violence at some point. whatever i really feel like using, honestly
Disclaimer: none of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction belong to me. Pandora belongs to the lovely and talented Ginevra. the rest of the recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling. they're not much, much as i'd like them to be. i make no money from this. the only payment coming my way is the joyous comments that are left to my journal. please don't hurt me.
Pandora's Box - The Index
and now... the chapter...
Chapter Five: A Cold Day In Hell
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Severus stared down at his fiancé's bent head as Pandora walked along beside him. They had both decided to leave the Ministry function rather early, neither one entirely comfortable with the way people stared at them. Severus knew why they stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. He'd always been quite vocal about the need for a wife, always scoffing at those of his acquaintance who had done the unthinkable and taken a bride. His verbal bashing had only gotten worse when said acquaintances had been blinded by their spouse's pregnancies and the subsequent births of an entirely new generation of simpering, screaming, stupid little cretins. Cretins that he would, in time, have to teach potions to.
His oral diatribes were the stuff of legend and there wasn't a soul in all of Christendom who had come into contact with him and hadn't been assaulted and lashed by his sharp, quick tongue. In the matter of a few brief seconds, everything that he'd ever stood for had been crushed under the heavy heel of Lucius' desire to win a simple bet. His days as one of the scariest and most confirmed bachelors in Britain had just come to a screaming, painful halt. He could only imagine what the evening had been like for the woman at his side.
She'd been the very top of the gossip the moment she'd been announced. Severus now knew why Lucius had insisted he attend the bloody function. It would have looked bad if Snape had been absent and his intended had shown up. Still, every eye had been on her, from the very second she started down the stairs into the ballroom to the exact minute he had escorted her back up the same stairs and out of the ballroom. The halls had been, thankfully, devoid of life and he'd seen her shoulders unclench just the slightest. When he'd fetched her and offered to take her home, she'd been caught between Narcissa and three other shrieking harpies, demanding to know everything. Severus had been convinced she hadn't told them anything that they'd wanted to hear and he'd silently applauded her ability to hold her own.
It was a trait she was going to need amongst this bunch of sharks with breasts.
Still, despite the confusing events of the evening, he wasn't ready to take a bride. He didn't think he ever would be. His past being what it was, he being the man he was, he was certain that marriage would never be something he'd pursue. He was going to have to find some way to end this farce. And then he was going to find some way to wring Malfoy's aristocratic neck for putting him in the uncomfortable situation to begin with.
They were presently strolling almost idly along the sidewalk in one of the better parts of London. It was centrally located, a series of shops and cafés circling it as if protecting it from the outside world. He knew that there was an entrance to the Magical part of London not far from here. If he wasn't mistaken, and he knew he wasn't, Malfoy had set her up in the flat they were heading to. The git had an annoying habit of insisting on only the best. Which meant that Pandora would be lucky to escape the solitude and clutter of Severus' home in Spinner's End.
"This is the building," she said, her voice a soft husk in the shadows. She was motioning to a rather upscale looking edifice. The light that washed over it from the street lamps showed a soft gray brick. The door had been pained a deep, midnight blue, as had the housing for each window. There were still some lights shining through the glass panes of the structure. The small reticule she'd carried all night held a pair of keys, which he retrieved it from her hand after she dug it out. Then he motioned for the door with one hand. Pandora climbed the short flight of steps before him, allowing him to use one key to open the main door.
Inside, she led him to an old fashioned lift, the kind with scrolling gates instead of doors. The outer set slid apart, followed by the inner set, and the two of them stepped in. The floor of the car was carpeted with plush blue pile, just as the hallway had been. The walls were paneled wood, stained a deep cherry color. Buttons edged in brass, printed with script numbers, begged to be pushed. One of her delicate fingers pressed against the button for the top floor, the tenth, and the pleasant little light came on behind the plastic. Then the lift slid into motion so smoothly that Severus wondered for a moment if it was magicked to do so.
More blue carpeting ran exactly three feet to the only door on the floor. Gold numbers were attached to the dark blue door, marking it as flat ten A. He slid the second key into the lock on the door, then turned the scrolled brass handle. The door swung open to reveal an entry hall, tiled in gray marble. Veins of darker gray and black wound through the tiles like rivers of ink, creating gentle patterns that actually soothed the senses. A soft light shone up the hall from a room at the end, giving guidance into the large flat as if it were some kind of beacon.
The girl stared up at him uneasily for a few moments, then offered a timid smile and motioned toward the light. "Please. Come in and sit. Is there anything I can get for you?" she asked, the confusion and fear cloaking her making her accent more pronounced than it had been at the ball.
Severus thought hard about turning her down, then changed his mind. They needed to chat about a few things and now was as good a time as any. "Perhaps some tea, if you have any."
"Of course. Give me a moment," she nodded. He watched as she hurried through a doorway to her right, then a light flared to life. Deciding he would rather wait her out in the comfort of one of the chairs in her living room than stand in the hall like a beggar, he strode forward into area where the first light had been coming from.
It was a spacious living room, with furniture in a deep, chocolate brown. The carpeting here was dove gray, as thick as the blue outside the door of the flat. He turned on a pair of lamps, bringing more light into the room, and took a seat in a chair. The fireplace was empty and clean, as if it had never been used to light a fire. A few personal items were scattered about the room. Half a dozen pictures of people who bore a striking resemblance to Pandora, a small clay pot on the mantel, a pair of books on one table. Everything else had the air of something new and fresh.
In a few, short moments, Pandora joined him in the living room. She carried a tray of silver, upon which was settled a tea pot and cups made of the finest bone china. There was also a pot for milk and a small container that he suspected held sugar. A bowl of lemon wedges completed her load. She settled the tray on the low coffee table before him, then lifted the pot to begin pouring.
It was silent a long while, both of them uncomfortable with the new situation. They sipped at their tea nervously until she broke the painful quiet in the air. "I am sorry about this evening. I had no idea you did not know of my coming. If I had..." she trailed off, setting down her tea cup and saucer to flash him a faint smile. "Mr. Malfoy led me to believe that this was your idea. That you were simply too busy to look for a bride of your own."
Severus stared at her a moment or two, wondering if he should tell her just what Lucius had been doing. On one hand, he thought she deserved to know the truth. On the other, he suspected she would feel cheated and hurt by the knowledge that she'd been bought to win a bet. Unless he spun that in his favor. An idea began to form in his mind. But he would have to play this out with all the subtlety and finesse of a silver tongued devil. That was something right up his alley.
"In all honesty, Miss Vitale," he replied slowly, as if he were giving her statement a great deal of thought. He made sure to deliberately use her surname, knowing that it would help him achieve his goal. "I find myself generally too occupied with my teaching duties to consider feminine companionship."
"Please. You must call me Pandora. Or simply Dora. Miss Vitale is far too impersonal."
"Very well, then. Pandora. And you must call me Severus," he replied, burying the smile that was tempted to rise to the surface. She did smile at him, an expression of such sweetness that he had to wonder just how young she truly was.
"Mr. Malfoy must be a good friend if he is willing to find a bride for you," she said softly, then turned to fidget with one of the books settled beside her. Severus couldn't hide the sneer and took a moment to shoo it off his face before she caught sight of it.
"Lucius has his moments," he agreed, though she would undoubtedbly miss what he was agreeing to. "He tells me you are a Contessa."
She looked up at this and sighed, shaking her head. "My mother is a Contessa. The title will officially come to me when she dies. I wish he hadn't told anyone that I was."
"You will no doubt be bored to tears married to someone who has almost no money to his name. A teacher's salary does not pay well. It would mean stepping away from the finer things in life," he pointed out, wondering what her reaction would be. To be honest, he got the feeling that she was rather uncomfortable in her fine gown and the luxurious trappings of her flat.
"Money is not an issue for me," she replied slowly, one hand idly picking at an imagined spot of lint on her skirts. Hmmm.... That action, the way she answered him, were telling. He would have to do some investigating. Especially after Lucius had told him she was a mail order bride. There was a story hidden in that, something he needed to know about her. He was certain that knowledge would help him understand a little better what was going on.
"I am not a well liked man, as I am certain you discovered for yourself tonight," he pushed the issue. She lifted on shoulder in a shrug. Her eyes, when they found his, were full of some fear he couldn't put a name to.
"I care nothing for the precepts of society. I only wish to be happy and.... safe in my marriage," she informed him. Another hint to things that needed to be discovered. It was time to play his trump card.
"I am afraid that I cannot be the man to offer you those things, Pandora. You see," he stopped and heaved a dramatic sigh, turning his eyes up to the ceiling as if searching for the right words. When he finally looked at her, there was uncertainty in her gaze, mingling with the same fear. This time, though, it had run deeper and darkened the hazel of her eyes. She spoke before he could continue.
"Why not? I don't understand! Am I not pleasing to look upon? Do you not find me....?"
"It is nothing to do with you, Pandora. You are quite an attractive young woman. But I am old enough to be your father," he began. That wasn't quite true, but it would do what he needed it to do. She gave him a look, opened her mouth to interrupt. He pushed on, feigning a look of deepest regret. "And, well, to be honest.... It would not be fair of me to marry you when you have been brought here under false pretenses."
She blinked at him, obviously not expecting this from him. "What do you mean?" she finally asked.
"Lucius lied to you, my dear. I was not in the market for a wife. He and Narcissa have bet one another, you see."
"Bet? What kind of bet?" she turned a puzzled look his way. He had her hooked now.
Frowning, he shook his head and lifted his tea for a drink, pretending to stall for time. "I should not have said anything. This is nothing you needed to know."
"You mean he's bet on our getting married?" she asked softly. He could almost see her temper growing behind those lovely eyes. He gave a nod of his head, as if embarrassed to actually say anything. She frowned, rising to her feet so she could pace across the floor and back. When she stopped, she looked back at him and he could see confusion in her eyes. "Why would he do something like that? And why would he lie to me?"
"Lucius is something of an opportunist. If he can gain personally from something, he does not hesitate to do it."
"So he stands to gain something from a marriage between the two of us?" she asked. He could see the wheels in her mind already turning. She was falling right into his trap. He said nothing, let her continue her line of thinking. "What has Narcissa bet?"
"Knowing her as I do, I am certain that she bet I could not and would not take a wife."
"That's a horrible thing for someone to bet on. She should wish you to be happy," Pandora shook her head, then returned to her seat. "What can we do about this bet?"
"Whatever do you mean, my dear?" he asked, composing his face into a mask of pure innocence.
"We cannot let either of them win their bet. And we cannot let either of them make fools of us. So how do we approach this?" she asked, her eyes serious. Her face was just as serious. She watched him for several moments before glancing away to look at the drapes hanging over a window. "I cannot go back on my deal. The money that Mr. Malfoy paid as my bride price is already earmarked for use."
He saw a quick flash of fear then and realized that she was afraid that he would turn her away. The money was obviously more important to her than it was to Lucius, which made him wonder as to the state of her family's finances. A few, discreet inquiries would answer that question easily enough. He suspected though, with Lucius footing the bill for her bride price and the extravagant cave she was living in, that she was in dire need of money. "So you would be willing to see the marriage through, even though you know nothing about me?"
"I... Yes. I would," she nodded. There was a certainty in her voice that shook him. No one should be that convinced about wedding a perfect stranger. It made him far more curious than he should have been. He was going to have to find out all of her secrets. Something told him she wouldn't simply give them to him if he were to ask, which meant he had to do it the old fashioned way. He had to go behind her back.
"But what kind of marriage would we have? We know nothing about one another. I could not ask you to engage in a carnal relationship with me if you were not so inclined," he told her. There was more truth to that statement than he dared admit. He knew his appeal to the opposite sex was rather low, bunched in somewhere between flobberworms and a steaming pile of shite. He wasn't about to engage in sex with her if it was going to turn her stomach each and every time. The last thing he wanted was a wife who rushed for the loo every time he shucked his clothing.
"Well," she began, then stopped and sank into thought, her brows drawn together as she puzzled it out. "All we really need to do is marry one another. This will save my bride price so that it can be used as it was intended. This will also prevent and speculation about why you were engaged and then not engaged. People will be less inclined to talk about you if you go through with the marriage after having seen us together publicly."
"People will speak about me, whether we marry or not," he snorted. "I am not known amongst my peers as a nice man. A marriage between us would set their tongues wagging as they attempted to determine the reason for our union. There might be speculation that you were forced into it either by magic or mischief."
"As if I care what a bunch of elitist snobs think are the reasons for our marriage. Let them speculate that you cursed me with Imperious, then bound me to the bed and raped me until I was fat with your child. You and I will know the truth and that will be all that matters," she spat the words almost vehemently. Severus had to hold back his smile. The more he got to know Miss Vitale, the more he thought they might make an excellent couple. The girl had spine, wrapped up in a sweet, biddable looking package.
The snobs of the upper crust Pure blooded society would never know what hit them. He schooled his tone and merely stared at her. "Do you mean to tell me you would marry me even if it meant living in poverty with one of the most hated men in Britain? Even if there were no sexual relations involved? You would consider a simple marriage of convenience?"
"For the time being. What I am suggesting, Severus, is a union between us. We can marry and, at first, we will be companions. As we get to know one another, that can perhaps change. Our marriage could become something more," she finished, a blush staining the smooth, dusky skin of her cheeks.
He studied her a moment or two. She was quite an attractive woman. And she’d been blessed with brains, too. He could do worse than someone like Pandora. His mind immediately shot to Malthina Higgensbottom and it was all he could do to keep the bitter, sour expression from his face. Pandora was most assuredly a better choice than that old hag. And she had already proven herself capable of handling the snotty, snide cows that made up the social circle she’d been expected to mingle with. Yes. Perhaps there was something good to come of this after all.
Severus offered her a small, stiff smile. "That, my dear Pandora, sounds like an excellent idea."
~*~*~*~*~
"Lucius Malfoy! What the bloody hell was going on back there?" Narcissa practically screeched the words in his ear the moment they stepped out of the hearth and into their stylish sitting area. He turned a mild, unconcerned look to her, blinking at her as if he hadn’t been expecting her verbal attack.
"Whatever do you mean, my love?" he asked in return, his voice smooth and pleasant. She scowled at him and threw her bag into the nearest chair, stalking across the room to the small liquor cabinet there. She poured herself a rather healthy glass of whatever her hand closed around and swallowed it down with barely a grimace. Normally, she stuck to wine. If she was knocking back the hard stuff without flinching, she was very much pissed off.
"You know precisely what I mean! Who was that bloody woman? Where the hell did she come from?"
"I believe they gave her name when she entered the room. A Pandora…. Bugger. What was her name?" he paused and gave the impression that he was searching his memory for the information. "Ah, yes. Pandora Vitale. A contessa, I believe they said. If memory serves, a contessa comes from Italy. So I would suspect she’s Italian."
"Damn it, Lucius! You know that isn’t what I mean!" she snarled at him. "How the bloody hell did Snape end up engaged to an Italian…..?" she stammered for a moment or two as she sought the right word. "How did he end up engaged to that little harlot?"
"I'm sure I have no idea," Lucius shook his head, giving her his best look of angelic innocence.
"Why you..." she ground out, hands fisted at her sides.
"Cissa, darling. You look positively vexed. Whatever could be the matter?"
"You. You're what's the matter," she hissed, pouring herself another measure of the drink. He watched as she swallowed it down without pausing for a breath. She was going to be drunk rather quickly if she kept that up and he had no intention of sleeping anywhere near her when she was like that. She tended to fart in her sleep. Great, copious clouds of noxious fumes that would put a blast-ended skrewt to shame. The woman could choke a mountain troll at fifty paces without trying. "You're the reason that girl is here. What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," he shook his head, making sure he gave her a look of indignation. He was so glad he had several accounts of his own private monies so that Narcissa wouldn't know just how much he'd paid out to win his side of the bet. That was the great thing about the Malfoy fortune. It was vast and complex and there was no way he'd ever in his life tell his wife about any of it.
"Lucius Malfoy, you lying pile of steaming hippogriff shite! You're behind the girl being here, aren't you?" she demanded shrilly.
"Of course I'm not. That wouldn't be ethical. How can you have such little faith in Severus or myself?" he replied firmly. Technically, he hadn't done anything wrong. There had been no stipulation that he couldn't help his friend. But it wasn't wise to let her know that. There were no limits when it came to a bet and he planned to use every advantage he could in his favor.
"Severus is a toad and you're a sneaky, underhanded snake who likes to...." she pointed a finger at him, her eyes flashing.
"Keep talking to me like that, love, and I'll consider it foreplay," he drawled at her. She clenched her jaw shut, giving a muffled scream behind her lips, and stomped one dainty foot down against the floor hard. The resulting echo was dull and thin, little more than a pin striking glass, a brittle sound that he couldn't help laughing at. She scooped up the bottle and turned for the door.
"Where ever are you going, my dear?" Lucius asked her. His words halted her just as she was twisting the knob to swing the panel open.
"I'm going to bed. Which is where you won't be. You can sleep on the couch or in your chair or even with Snape, for all I care!" she snapped at him, then stomped from the room. He waited until she was well away from the door before he allowed himself to chuckle out loud.
"Good night, love. Make sure to open a window before you retire," he said quietly, then moved for the door. He had no intentions of sleeping with her. Or on the couch. And certainly not with Snape. He expected the old man was either driving Pandora away with the sharp edge of his tongue or he'd talked the little vixen out of her knickers already.
Slowly, Lucius made his way up the stairs and turned in the opposite direction of the master suite, where he knew his little hellion wife was not waiting for him. The house was quite large, after all, and did have a number of rooms available to use. He'd sleep in one of the suites on the opposite end. Better to sleep alone than worry about silent gas leaks in the middle of the night.
The blue room would do nicely. Quiet. Peaceful. Pleasant. And not a raging wife in sight.
~*~*~*~*~
Severus found himself in a rather pleasant mood as he made his way up from the bowels of the castle for the morning meal. Already, he'd passed several students who were squandering their time in the halls and had issued quite a few detentions as a means of discouraging further sloth like behavior. When he entered the Great Hall for breakfast, many of the students were already there. The staff table was filled with all of his colleagues and no one spared a glance for him as he took his seat.
The meal was in full swing already and he began helping himself to the few breakfast staples he wanted. Sausages, a small mound of scrambled eggs, toast and a glass of cold orange juice. Dumbledore nodded to him briefly in passing and McGonagall managed a tight smile before returning to her plate.
A screech of owls overhead alerted one and all to the morning paper's delivery, as well as the mail. There were a few parcels included in the bunch. As none of them were for him, he ignored the flutter of wings and continued to chew his meal, surreptitiously casting a protective spell over his plate in case any of the owls couldn't hold it in a few moments more. One could never be too careful. He didn't care what Dumbledore said.
His mind slipped back to the conversation he'd had with Pandora the night before. He was still under the impression that the girl was quite intelligent and that there were things she was hiding. The way she talked about her bride price gave him the sneaking suspicion that, while she might be titled, there was no money behind said title. He'd have been blind not to see the mark of Lucius' handiwork in the clothing Pandora had worn, the flat she was living in. Even the jewels she'd worn had screamed of Malfoy's tastes.
They had spoken at length about what kind of marriage they were going to have. He suspected that there was more than simply money behind her desire to wed him anyway. Even after their talk, she'd seemed more concerned about what this would mean to him than what it would mean to her. He'd already sent off a few letters to some old friends who would be more than willing to help him discover what he needed to know about his bride to be. If not, the Ministry would find them a place in Azkaban. Severus wasn't above using blackmail to get what he wanted and there were a few people that he had dirt on.
The quiet rustle of papers being opened and pages being turned filled the void as idle chatter died down. He paid little mind to the sound of a fork clattering here and there, or to the rush of whispers that suddenly swooped on the air like birds calling to one another. His mind was on the sweet, gentle kiss that he'd been gifted with before he'd left Pandora's flat. It had been at her insistence and, while it hadn't been anything near impassioned, there'd been a sense of wildness in her caress that had left him wondering what she might be like in bed. It had also left him with rather ill fitting trousers and he'd returned to Hogwarts to seek a cold shower.
Soon, however, the buzz of lowered voices was almost more than he could stand. There was more rustling of paper. Then finally, there was a great silence. It was broken by a voice that he'd love to silence with a hex. "Bloody hell! Snape's getting married!"
He looked up from his plate to find all eyes were on him. The owner of said voice, Ronald Weasley, was looking rather pale, eyes gone wide as his feeble little mind tried to put it together. A glance down the table to where Dumbledore and McGonagall sat showed him a pair of smirks that had his hand itching to draw his wand and use it with reckless abandon.
He said nothing, merely reached out and stole the paper from the Hagrid's too large hands, then began thumbing through it. A scowl crept across his face. Rita Skeeter. He should have known. Damned woman was a bloody nuisance.
Cold Day in Hell Arrives. Severus Snape to Marry!
He lifted his gaze from the paper to find every eye in the place locked onto him. Severus offered them his most feared snarl, a look he hadn't had to use since his Death Eater days. It drove all eyes back to the plates before them. He held the look for a few moments longer before returning to the paper in his hands. Under the headline was a picture of he and Pandora shortly before they'd left the function for the evening. She was staring up at him greatfully, having just been rescued from Narcissa's little group of interrogators. There was a somewhat soft look on his face, his gaze resting on her while Malfoy's wife and her cronies looked on in what appeared to be abject horror.
He skimmed over the article, his frown deepening as he picked out a few of the more colorful words Skeeter had used to describe him. Rather like a dirty mop upended.... A thin pole dangling dirty bits of string.... Snarky, sour, sullen husk of a man.... and, his personal favorite, The Wizarding World's most ineligible bachelor.
The Skeeter woman had practically fallen all over herself in an effort to paint Pandora in a much kinder light. A woman of timeless grace and beauty.... The picture of elegance and poise.... A sweet natured goddess who brought a smile to the face of all she encountered.... and A sympathetic soul who had a soft spot for those less fortunate than herself. Severus didn't know if he wanted to laugh at her blatant favoritism or if he would simply stalk the woman and spring out of some darkened corner at her, hexing her with an incurable case of pustules about the lips. Both sets.
The clearing of a throat brought his attention up out of the paper. Dumbledore was standing with his glass raised, smirking at Severus with that annoying twinkle in his eyes. Minerva stood beside him, smiling. "A toast. To Professor Snape. Congratulations and may you find much joy and happiness in your bride."
"Here, here," Minerva added and everyone chimed in together.
"To Professor Snape."
Bloody hell. He was going to kill someone. And he wasn't sure if Lucius Malfoy or Rita Skeeter was tops on his list.
well, there we go. was i mean or what? i snickered like mad while writing some of this. i hope you enjoyed!
wanna catch up on all my stuff? check this link out. its got everything! The Ultimate ldf Fic Index