Winter: A Harry Potter fanfic
Livejournal said this was too long to add as a chapter at the end of my previous chapters of "Winter."
Enjoy.
If that's the word I mean.
Synopsis: Lily and Severus come to an understanding.
IV. A Show for the Dark Lord: The Feast of Santa Lucia (12/13/81)
“Is it too cold for you?”
Too soon, too fast, everyone said. But Lily needed him, and Severus had wanted her for years. It wasn’t too fast for either of them, it was too slow. She didn’t care about anything else.
The Herbology professor had offered to force any flower Lily liked for a bouquet, but Severus insisted on having her hands free. Instead he had braided sedge into bracelets and a wreath for her hair into which they had stuck fragrant wild and semi-wild flowers of all seasons and countries: meadowsweet, asphodel, borage, gillyflower, wild rose, elder blossom, sweet pea, violets.
Severus had stammered when they exchanged their vows; Lily’s voice had come clearly.
Finally they were alone in his rooms.
She turned into his arms, smiling. Now came what she had dreamed of.
He was death-pale and sweating. What on earth was wrong? Lily frowned at Severus in confusion. Could he possibly be a virgin and afraid of disappointing her? Or just afraid of disappointing her?
She let her hands slide up and down his back and whispered, “It would be astonishing, love, if the first time weren’t way too fast, as overkeyed as we both are by now. See, you should have let me seduce you weeks ago, and then we’d both be more relaxed. The second and third times will be much better. Let’s get the first time over with quickly, and go on to enjoy the second….”
Severus was shivering, his eyes shut as he clutched her to him. One hand gripped her almost painfully; his erection ground against her, but his hands held her immobile. He gasped, “Lily. Yes. Quickly. We have to-we have to consummate the marriage as soon as possible. And then-and then I have to give you some things. And then after that-I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s going to be too fast.”
It was.
He didn’t even try to undress either of them, just pulled her negligee aside and thrust inside clumsily. It was way too fast, but Lily didn’t care. She’d have the rest of the night to teach him how to please her, and the ways he had touched her before left her with no doubts of his eagerness to learn.
His former Potions partner knew better than anyone Severus’s experimental bent and his attention to detail when he turned his mind fully to a subject. These past weeks, Severus had turned his mind to Lily’s body. He had stroked her breasts with palms, thumbs, fingertips; he had trailed the backs of his nails against her nipples, had pinched them, had brushed them lightly, and had rubbed them. Then he had started using his mouth-all the time with huge black eyes drinking in every flicker of her reaction to each variation in touch. Lily looked forward to Severus’s further investigations; they would have all the night to play.
But for now Severus was collapsed atop her, his face buried in her hair. Lily kissed his throat and tasted his sweat. She cradled him, molding herself to him, trying to convey how delighted she was simply to hold him. He was still shaking violently; with a shock, she realized he was sobbing silently. He was holding her too tightly to allow her to move much, but she clutched his dressing gown as hard as he would let her.
After a time his body clenched and he lifted himself off her. His face was white, wet, and entirely unreadable. With no clue to what was so wrong, Lily didn’t dare even to reach out to him. Severus sat on the edge of the bed a moment, not looking at her. He was still shaking, but he mastered himself enough to reach into the bureau by the bed and to pull out a potions phial. He stared at it a moment; his hands were almost steady when they uncapped it. His face was dead when he turned back to her. “Lily, please drink this.”
She stared at him in confusion. “What is it, Severus?”
He closed his eyes a moment. She could read nothing when they met hers again. “Your antidote, Lily. And then I can give you your memories back, and then you’ll understand everything. And then I’ll do … whatever you say.”
She opened her mouth to ask more; his face flickered then, just for a moment. The momentary expression was anguish; she lay silent. He said, very quietly, “Lily, please, just drink it. Please.”
In the face of so much pain she didn’t argue; she sat up in bed and quaffed it. She’d been wrong about Severus not undressing her at all; he’d managed to untie her sash in the course of proceedings. Her negligee fell open as she handed back the phial. Even with the roaring fire, the winter air was chill on her skin. She shivered and moved automatically a little closer to Severus’s warmth. His hand twitched; for a moment, seeing his eyes, she thought he would reach out to cup her breast. Her nipples hardened at the gesture. Instead, his hand dropped, and he regarded her with a hint of confusion.
Severus said, frowning slightly, “It should take effect faster than that.”
He turned back to the bureau and pulled out an odd stone bowl and a crystal phial. Lily couldn’t remember seeing either before, but somehow they seemed familiar. The phial was filled with a shifting, shimmering silver fluid, not water and not light. Severus poured the fluid into the stone basin and placed the basin ceremoniously into her hands. He looked a little calmer now, but it seemed the calmness of someone who’d gone past some point of no return. He was certainly no happier about whatever was going on. Lily regarded him in concern and fear.
“Where’s your wand, Lily?” Wordlessly she pulled it from the wand-rest she’d found carved into the headboard. Severus nodded approval. He said quietly, “These are memories. Your memories. Do you know how to do this? Just dip your wand in, let it catch a memory, and apply it to your temple. When you’ve gotten them all back you’ll understand everything.”
He left her then, walking across the room to stand leaning against the door, turned away from her. Lily’s first impulse was to smash the bowl and all its contents against the floor. Anything that hurt Severus this much couldn’t possibly be anything she wanted.
But he trusted her to do what he asked of her.
*
Lily huddled under the covers on her marriage bed, crying silently. Severus’s voice floated across the room. “Dumbledore reminded me that the marriage would not be valid if we did not consummate it. I am sorry.”
His voice was entirely without expression, but Lily found herself reacting to the sound. She wanted to hear it again; she wanted him to say something else, to speak to her. She had buried her face in the sheets that smelled of his sweat, the way she had buried herself in his robes the night James and Harry died. What was wrong with her?
She wanted him closer, not so far away. She wanted him to hold her. The thought of Severus closer, holding her, brought the blood hot to her cheeks. And to her nipples. And between her legs. She huddled in their marriage bed, breath stopped.
“Severus.” Her voice came out wrong. It was shaky and yearning when it should be furious. “Your antidote isn’t working right.”
“What?” He strode back to the bed. “I brewed it perfectly, Lily. I triple checked all the interactions, and I was damn careful what order I gave you things because there were a few interactions I couldn’t compensate for-” He broke off, staring at her. Lily couldn’t hide her reactions: her flush, her blackening eyes, the way her body had simultaneously eased and grown eager at his approach. “Shit, Lily,” he said, his eyes fixed on her wide eyes. “What, what part of the potions are you still feeling?”
He sank down on the bed, staring at her, and she involuntarily moved a little nearer. His hand reached out and stopped.
Lily said thinly, trying to be accurate, “Pretty much all of them, I should think. I don’t know what all you gave me. I feel aphrodisiac effects, of course, but also-I feel inclined still to trust you and to want you, well, just near me. I, I feel better when you’re close.”
Severus shook his head at that. “I didn’t give you any actual lust potions, Lily, and at least some of the other effects should be waning even without the antidote, it’s been a day since I last dosed you-” He broke off suddenly and turned white again, the deathly pallor he’d had at the start of their tryst. “Conditioning.”
The word was vaguely familiar to Lily. “What?”
“Conditioning. It’s a term from one of Petunia’s science books.” He threw back his head suddenly and laughed; the sound was rich with despair. If he were a woman Lily would call it hysteria.
The laughter cut off sharply with a gasp. Severus put his head down, black hair swinging to hide his face, and explained. “Don’t you remember, Lily? A scientist called Pavlov. He rang a bell every time he put down food for the dog: and after a time, the dog salivated every time the bell was rung, whether food was there or not. Or-think of it like training a, a strangler vine. The soft little shoots can’t hold at first, but if you attach them by magic to a support, soon the shoots entwine so tightly they can’t be disentangled.
“That’s… that’s what I did to you. I gave you potions for a number of weeks; now I’ve given you their antidotes. Which work, I am perfectly confident of that. But in the meantime I trained you. Your body has spent over a month being trained that being close to me, being held by me, was your only source of comfort in your grief. That being held by me, being kissed by me was your major source of pleasure.”
He lifted his hand, trailed a finger delicately along her jaw, and then stroked her lips, which opened to his touch. Lily moved a little. Severus jerked back, gasping.
“You see, Lily? I’ve conditioned you. I gave you potions to make you trust me, want to please me, feel grateful to me, feel comforted by my mere presence, feel-not lust actually, but overly sensitized to my touch. The potions are gone; the conditioning is left.”
Severus laughed again, choking. He crouched on the edge of their marriage bed, his head bowed. Lily lay burning in the bed. To trust him, to want to please him, to feel comforted by his presence, grateful for it, sensitized to him… exactly what blazed in her, and it had been burned into her flesh with treachery? His treachery?
He said suddenly, “Oh, fuck-and I took that promise from you.”
A voice, distant, implacable, tolled in Lily’s ears: “I promise. To let you hold me, to let you comfort me, to let you make me feel better.”
Her voice added, gasping, “Severus, please, please, kiss me.”
Lily had known, absolutely, by the last, binding iteration, what she was binding herself to with the last clause.
But that made it easier for her now. She had promised. Thrice. Her promise didn’t ask whether either of them wanted it this way. It just bound her.
Lily pulled Severus back down to her, keeping her promises. He held himself unresponsive as long as he could. He didn’t last long.
It felt good. Worse, it felt right.
Her mind cleared afterward; full contact with him helped. Now that had frightening implications. Severus’s mouth was still on her breast, his tongue lapping her nipple. One of Lily’s legs pinned him to her. She shook him abruptly. “Severus. You weren’t thinking.”
He raised his head groggily from her chest. It was odd to see him flushed when he was normally so pale. Severus’s heart was still beating wildly; she could feel each blow in her own flesh. He said unsteadily, “That… would seem to be apparent, Lily. It seems I wasn’t thinking clearly about a lot of things.”
Lily shook him again, willing him to focus. She said sharply, “Well, this is one of the big ones. You’ll have to report, sometime, to… to You-Know-Who. Won’t he look for something about me? Won’t he expect to see tonight? Won’t you have to have something to show him?”
Severus gaped like a mer and paled again. Lily said furiously, “Which part of tonight do you plan to show him? The part where you cried like a baby because my reactions to you weren’t real? The part where you gave me the antidote? The part where you hated yourself for raping me? This part, now? What the hell are you going to show him, when he invades your mind? Or did you think he wouldn’t, or that he wouldn’t tear you apart looking for me? You asked him to spare me: do you think he won’t look to see what the result was? To see whether you didn’t, maybe, want me too much? What were you thinking, Severus?”
He whispered, “I wasn’t, Lily; it was never my intention to follow through on this. I thought I’d be dead by now. Or you safe, gone.”
Absolutely true, not true at all, and it didn’t get him off the hook.
Lily’s eyes went cold again. “We need to have something to show him. We have to think, Severus!”
He dropped his head to her heart again, shuddering.
After a time, his voice came coolly. “Lily. You are quite correct. We need to stage something I can show him. You will need to act a part. I … shall also need to feel one. He’ll look for my feelings as well as my memories. There is a potion we-” His voice stopped.
Severus swallowed and resumed with deliberation. “There is a potion we use to… eliminate empathy. The Dark Lord prefers we not use it, but sometimes parents or older friends give it to young Death Eaters on their first raid. To prevent failure, which is-severely punished.”
Lily blinked, momentarily diverted. “Wait. If it prevents failure, wouldn’t You-Know-Who want to give it to everyone?”
“You underestimate his taste for torture-and his subtlety. He prefers that his followers, ah, override their squeamishness and their consciences without assistance; also that their compatriots have reason to fear for them. And then if someone does fail to get the better of his better nature, or his cowardice, as the case may be, the Dark Lord gets the fun of inflicting punishment. No, much better to let us muddle through without.”
“Euh. And you followed someone like that? Severus, what the hell were you thinking?”
“It would seem that I was a fool. But that can scarcely come as news.” He grimaced and returned to the point. “But Lily-I should warn you-I am likely to be cruel under this potion’s influence. I won’t-I’m not likely to harm you physically, but I won’t pay any heed to your feelings. I won’t be able to.”
“You’ve used it before?”
“No.”
Lily looked at him challengingly. “Never felt the need, eh?”
A muscle by his mouth twitched. “Not on either side, no. I prefer to feel what I deserve. And I’m a good enough Occlumens… not usually to show it.”
What the hell did that mean? Lily pondered a moment.
Severus looked at her; when she nodded, he left the room and returned with another phial. He lifted the phial to her in an ironic toast and drank.
Severus raised his eyebrows in faint surprise, and then a tension that had seemed intrinsic to him drained from his body. He scanned the room, his eyes passing over Lily indifferently. His face was smooth and empty. After a moment he started putting the room to rights-cleaning the bed linens, replacing the candles with fresh ones, scouring the air with a breeze so no scent of sex remained. With a few passes of his wand all was done. He looked at Lily coolly then. “You’ll need to clean yourself, and-” He strode over to her and put his hands on her thighs, spreading them. She gasped indignantly.
“Yes, I thought so. Bruises elsewhere may be put down to prenuptial necking, but you need to salve these.”
She glared at him; he looked back coolly, annoyed. “We’re setting a scene, Lily, for the Dark Lord’s delectation. We have to pay close attention to detail. Surely you don’t want him to trip us up on some unconsidered trifle? Fortunately I have no windows; that would make it harder to hide the passage of time.”
Lily burned with humiliation; he had looked at her, handled her, as though she were furniture. He left and returned a moment later with a pot of salve. He dabbed some on his torso and buttocks where she had gripped him, then tossed her the pot. “On your thighs, Lily; elsewhere if you choose. It’ll take about two minutes to take effect, and then we need to clean off the residue so the scent doesn’t betray us. And clean yourself. Remember that you undoubtedly wish to look dainty for your bridegroom.”
As sarcasm went it didn’t approach Severus’s standard, much less his worst, but the unconcern with which he spoke was chilling. Lily lifted her head, appalled, and stared at him. He gazed back at her appraisingly and then left the room again. In a moment he returned with a handful of phials. He approached her; she cringed back a little.
He nodded as though a theory had been confirmed and held out a phial. “As I thought. You won’t be able to act well enough without assistance. You’re afraid of me now. Drink this.”
She started away from the phial and said, “Not without knowing what it-”
“I’m not averse to other means.”
He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her, his mouth hard. “Trust me,” he said, pulling her against him. Lily stiffened a moment, struggling, and then her body softened as she absorbed his scent. He might look a blank-faced stranger, he might move differently without his usual taut edge, but he smelled right. She found herself leaning against him confidingly, her eyes fluttering closed.
He was kissing her again, harder, sliding his tongue between her lips. She tasted something unfamiliar in her mouth; it felt good. Her mouth opened eagerly. He was kissing her yet again; he was shaking her, trying to rouse her. Lily opened her eyes obediently, trying to focus.
His eyes were night-black, burning, and beautiful.
She stared, transfixed. “I would like to apply the salve,” he told her, and Lily opened her legs unhesitatingly. His hands smoothed over her thighs. He kissed her again, and then again, whispering, “That’s good. Remember your promises, Lily. You promised to let me-make you feel better.’ Long fingers moved upwards and started to stroke her crisp curls, still wet from earlier.
That much she could remember. It was right to keep her promises, and it felt good. She arched, pressing against his hand. He pushed her down on the bed. He pressed his body atop hers and murmured, “You’re feeling it now, Lily, aren’t you? You’re burning for my touch. You need to please me, you need me to hold you, you need me to pleasure you. You’re not acting a part anymore; you can feel it. Can’t you?”
She rubbed herself against him, gasping. He purred, “I told you to trust me, and now you know I’m right. We’ll put on a good show. It’ll be easy. Trust me.”
Had he dosed her again? The kisses, of course. But he was right; it would be easy now to act as though she wanted him. It would be easy to fool You-Know-Who. It would be easy, the easiest thing in the world, to make love with him right now, despite that disturbing distance in his eyes. He was right again; he was always right. She struggled to pull him closer, to pull him in to her. She keened in disappointment when he pulled away.
He said softly, “Cleanse yourself and dress again in that sweet negligee to please me, Lily. I’ll come back in about a minute, and we’ll start the show.”
He glanced about the room, a final check of the scene he’d set. Then he pulled his dressing gown closer about him. Hard eyes regarded her, and he smiled. “Don’t worry, Lily. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself. One minute, and I’ll be back.”
Fresh candles lit the bed where she lay in a green and silver negligee, her unbound hair scattered on the pillow. Her bridegroom shucked his dressing gown as he strode to the bed; Lily’s body moved eagerly at the sight of his. He smiled. He liked to see her like this, then. She raised herself, pleading, “Severus…”
His wand moved, and she was naked.
He sat at the edge of their bed stroking her alternately with his wand and his hand. Her hips bucked at the jolts of pleasure the black length of wood gave her. The white hand, stroking, comforting in its human warmth, kept returning her to herself in time for another magical shock. The alternate blows of pleasure were too hard, too much. She cried out incoherently, reaching for him.
But she had promised to accept this. He was smiling. He liked to see her like this. “Yes, Lily,” he murmured, “Come for me. Scream for me. Yes, like that.”
Finally he lowered his body atop hers; she shivered with relief at feeling a body moving against her, giving her human-scaled release. “So good,” she moaned, “so good. Severus. Please.”
“You like this, Lily, don’t you?” He asked. He pushed his cock in slowly, withdrew, and then thrust again. He was real, present, here. He was on top of her, fucking her, hers wholly. But he withdrew again.
“You want this, Lily, don’t you? I can make you feel good. I’ll give you everything you want. If you ask nicely.”
She sobbed, “Please, Severus. Please.” She tried to pull him back down to her, but his wand touched her throat. Her hands fell to her sides, her body stilled; she was paralyzed below the neck. His hands stroked between her legs, and then his wand; she would have convulsed in pleasure if she were able. Instead she screamed.
“Once I said something you didn’t like, and you would have nothing to do with me, ever again. You thought you were too good for me. Wasn’t that so, Lily? I called you a Mudblood, and you didn’t want me. But now you want me, don’t you? You don’t care what I call you, do you? You want me to touch you. You want me to fuck you. You want me to let you touch me. Don’t you, Lily?”
She gasped and turned her head away. His hand gripped her jaw and turned it back to face him. His face was a smiling mask, his eyes unreadable. The dark man said softly, “Lily, I’ve already promised you. You can have what you want. I’ll give you everything you want, everything, everything, if you ask me nicely. But you have to ask me nicely. Do you want me to touch you?” His wand touched between her legs again, and she cried out at the fresh surge of sensation. He stroked her with the black wood repeatedly as she screamed. “Yes, that’s very nice, Lily, that’s good, I like to hear you, but you have to say it. Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes,” she sobbed finally, “yes!”
“Good girl,” he soothed, “good little Mudblood.” A white hand replaced the black wood and started to stroke. “Yes, this is what you like, good little Mudblood. Is this what you like?”
Her head whipped back and forth. “Say it!” He demanded, and she whimpered, “Yes….”
“Would you like me to fuck you, little Mudblood? Would you like me to release you and let you touch me? Would you like that, little Mudblood? Would you? Say it!”
One long finger was inside her now while his thumb moved against her clitoris. Her body would be spasming in pleasure if it were able to move. His wand brushed across her nipples, and another whip of too-intense pleasure hit her.
“Yes,” she moaned. She was almost sure that was the right answer.
“Good girl. Good little Mudblood. You don’t like that word, do you? Do you, Lily?” His face was inches above her own, his eyes boring into her.
“No. No, I don’t like that word, you know that!”
His lips curled slowly. “No. You don’t like it. But you like what I can do to you, don’t you?” One hand was still busy at her crotch; the other moved slowly, softly, tracing lines from her belly to her left nipple. Across to the other one, then pausing to cup and stroke. He broke eye contact to bring his mouth down to trace the same path.
Then he sat up, smiling, somehow back at the edge of the bed. “Your choice, Lily. I’ll give you everything you want, you know I will. I’ll fuck you; I’ll touch you everywhere; I’ll let you touch me. I’ll kiss you-you know you want that. If you ask nicely, I’ll give you everything. Ask me to call you a Mudblood.”
She looked at him in fury; Severus smiled back coolly and started fisting himself. “I don’t need you, Lily, look. I can do just fine without you. But you need me.” He stroked his thumb, the same one that had caressed her, over the tip of his cock and gathered a drop of moisture. He smeared it across her upper lip, and she moaned. Her tongue came out to taste it. Severus was leaning on his arms over her again, smiling into her eyes. His own were devoid of any emotion.
His voice turned suddenly smooth, soothing, as he said, “Besides, you have no choice, really. You need to keep your promises….” He kissed her, lowering his body to rub against her again; she sobbed in frustration at being unable to catch him to her.
She had promised to let him make her feel better.
“Ask nicely, Lily, ask nicely.” His erection was prodding her thighs; she couldn’t move to let him in. “Ask me to call you Mudblood. You know I’ll give you everything when you do. You know that, don’t you, Lily?”
His wand touched her; she screamed again, helpless to stop herself. When she could speak, she whispered, defeated, “Yes. Call me Mudblood. Please.”
Her arms were suddenly free again to embrace him. Her thighs parted, her back arched, welcoming him. He was laughing as he thrust. “Good girl. Good little Mudblood. Filthy little Mudblood. There, that’s better, isn’t it? Good little Mudblood.”
When he had finished, he lay atop her a moment, gasping. Then he laughed again and rolled on his side, pulling her with him. “It’s not over yet, not nearly, little Mudblood. You want more, don’t you? We’re not done yet, there’s so much more….” She shivered at the promise, moving to press herself against him. “Yes, you like the touch of my flesh, you need the feel of my skin against yours, don’t you, little Mudblood? Here, let’s see…”
He turned her so that her back was pressed against him; every nerve from her bum to the nape of her neck sang with pleasure. His leg slung over her and pressed her close. One of his arms was half trapped by her head, but the hand still had some freedom to explore her breasts and shoulder. The other long-fingered hand moved in slow patterns before settling again between her legs. “Ask me nicely,” he whispered.
“Please, call me Mudblood…”
His hand started moving and he murmured in her ear, “Little Mudblood. It feels so good, doesn’t it, little Mudblood…” When she was writhing he started using his tongue and teeth on her, first on the earlobe, then on her throat, then lower, never stopping his soft flow of obscenities. Her greatest frustration was being so little able to touch him. Finally one of her hands caught his hip, the other trapped his fingers on her breast, and she rode his hand to orgasm.
“Sweet Mudblood, is it good?” he whispered as she came.
He was still holding her, stroking, touching her everywhere as he had promised. He had kept his promises; so had she, she thought giddily. She was letting him… she cried out and spasmed, once and twice again.
She lay in a haze for a time, and then felt his wand pressing against her. This time each overpowering pulse of pleasure from the black wood was followed immediately by his sweet flesh, by an obliging mouth or hand or cock or thigh, bringing her to completion, over and over. His voice hissed obscenities in her ear.
One time he sat at the far end of the bed, leaning back casually on his arms, rubbing her only with his long white foot. His voice explained, “Little Mudblood, I want you to understand that any part of me can bring you pleasure.” It was true, truer than anything.
Some time later, he rubbed a cramp-relieving balm over her pelvis and thighs. Her muscles eased from their overstimulation and went slack, easy, comforted. Long fingers smoothed another balm over her nipples and labia, soothing the redness and minor abrasions from so much friction. He gave her water to drink, or maybe it was another potion. She wasn’t tracking any more. The moisture felt so good in her throat, so kind. His hands, his wand, refused to stop touching her. Her tired body tautened again at the recurrent stimulation.
His voice was increasingly hoarse, “Ask me nicely.”
Hers grew fainter as she faded, obedient to her lesson, “Call me Mudblood. Please.”
A dark voice, exhausted, unyielding, embedded itself in her flesh with soft, obscene, true statements, “Little Mudblood, you like this. Sweet Mudblood, you need this.”
She did.
Lily passed out finally in his arms.
*
The Dark Mark burned.
Severus robed himself, went to the Hogwarts bounds, and Disapparated. He still felt oddly blank.
“So how was your bereft widow, Severus?”
“Enthusiastic, and, ah, eminently trainable.” He let the Dark Lord seize a glimpse of memory, imperfectly guarded. Lily had been right; it gave exactly the right impression.
A/N Part of the supposed speech given by Saint Lucia, patroness of the blind:
“No one's body is polluted so as to endanger the soul if it has not pleased the mind. If you were to lift my hand to your idol and so make me offer against my will, I would still be guiltless in the sight of the true God, who judges according to the will and knows all things. If now, against my will, you cause me to be polluted, a twofold purity will be gloriously imputed to me. You cannot bend my will to your purpose; whatever you do to my body, that cannot happen to me.”
Enjoy.
If that's the word I mean.
Synopsis: Lily and Severus come to an understanding.
IV. A Show for the Dark Lord: The Feast of Santa Lucia (12/13/81)
“Is it too cold for you?”
Too soon, too fast, everyone said. But Lily needed him, and Severus had wanted her for years. It wasn’t too fast for either of them, it was too slow. She didn’t care about anything else.
The Herbology professor had offered to force any flower Lily liked for a bouquet, but Severus insisted on having her hands free. Instead he had braided sedge into bracelets and a wreath for her hair into which they had stuck fragrant wild and semi-wild flowers of all seasons and countries: meadowsweet, asphodel, borage, gillyflower, wild rose, elder blossom, sweet pea, violets.
Severus had stammered when they exchanged their vows; Lily’s voice had come clearly.
Finally they were alone in his rooms.
She turned into his arms, smiling. Now came what she had dreamed of.
He was death-pale and sweating. What on earth was wrong? Lily frowned at Severus in confusion. Could he possibly be a virgin and afraid of disappointing her? Or just afraid of disappointing her?
She let her hands slide up and down his back and whispered, “It would be astonishing, love, if the first time weren’t way too fast, as overkeyed as we both are by now. See, you should have let me seduce you weeks ago, and then we’d both be more relaxed. The second and third times will be much better. Let’s get the first time over with quickly, and go on to enjoy the second….”
Severus was shivering, his eyes shut as he clutched her to him. One hand gripped her almost painfully; his erection ground against her, but his hands held her immobile. He gasped, “Lily. Yes. Quickly. We have to-we have to consummate the marriage as soon as possible. And then-and then I have to give you some things. And then after that-I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s going to be too fast.”
It was.
He didn’t even try to undress either of them, just pulled her negligee aside and thrust inside clumsily. It was way too fast, but Lily didn’t care. She’d have the rest of the night to teach him how to please her, and the ways he had touched her before left her with no doubts of his eagerness to learn.
His former Potions partner knew better than anyone Severus’s experimental bent and his attention to detail when he turned his mind fully to a subject. These past weeks, Severus had turned his mind to Lily’s body. He had stroked her breasts with palms, thumbs, fingertips; he had trailed the backs of his nails against her nipples, had pinched them, had brushed them lightly, and had rubbed them. Then he had started using his mouth-all the time with huge black eyes drinking in every flicker of her reaction to each variation in touch. Lily looked forward to Severus’s further investigations; they would have all the night to play.
But for now Severus was collapsed atop her, his face buried in her hair. Lily kissed his throat and tasted his sweat. She cradled him, molding herself to him, trying to convey how delighted she was simply to hold him. He was still shaking violently; with a shock, she realized he was sobbing silently. He was holding her too tightly to allow her to move much, but she clutched his dressing gown as hard as he would let her.
After a time his body clenched and he lifted himself off her. His face was white, wet, and entirely unreadable. With no clue to what was so wrong, Lily didn’t dare even to reach out to him. Severus sat on the edge of the bed a moment, not looking at her. He was still shaking, but he mastered himself enough to reach into the bureau by the bed and to pull out a potions phial. He stared at it a moment; his hands were almost steady when they uncapped it. His face was dead when he turned back to her. “Lily, please drink this.”
She stared at him in confusion. “What is it, Severus?”
He closed his eyes a moment. She could read nothing when they met hers again. “Your antidote, Lily. And then I can give you your memories back, and then you’ll understand everything. And then I’ll do … whatever you say.”
She opened her mouth to ask more; his face flickered then, just for a moment. The momentary expression was anguish; she lay silent. He said, very quietly, “Lily, please, just drink it. Please.”
In the face of so much pain she didn’t argue; she sat up in bed and quaffed it. She’d been wrong about Severus not undressing her at all; he’d managed to untie her sash in the course of proceedings. Her negligee fell open as she handed back the phial. Even with the roaring fire, the winter air was chill on her skin. She shivered and moved automatically a little closer to Severus’s warmth. His hand twitched; for a moment, seeing his eyes, she thought he would reach out to cup her breast. Her nipples hardened at the gesture. Instead, his hand dropped, and he regarded her with a hint of confusion.
Severus said, frowning slightly, “It should take effect faster than that.”
He turned back to the bureau and pulled out an odd stone bowl and a crystal phial. Lily couldn’t remember seeing either before, but somehow they seemed familiar. The phial was filled with a shifting, shimmering silver fluid, not water and not light. Severus poured the fluid into the stone basin and placed the basin ceremoniously into her hands. He looked a little calmer now, but it seemed the calmness of someone who’d gone past some point of no return. He was certainly no happier about whatever was going on. Lily regarded him in concern and fear.
“Where’s your wand, Lily?” Wordlessly she pulled it from the wand-rest she’d found carved into the headboard. Severus nodded approval. He said quietly, “These are memories. Your memories. Do you know how to do this? Just dip your wand in, let it catch a memory, and apply it to your temple. When you’ve gotten them all back you’ll understand everything.”
He left her then, walking across the room to stand leaning against the door, turned away from her. Lily’s first impulse was to smash the bowl and all its contents against the floor. Anything that hurt Severus this much couldn’t possibly be anything she wanted.
But he trusted her to do what he asked of her.
*
Lily huddled under the covers on her marriage bed, crying silently. Severus’s voice floated across the room. “Dumbledore reminded me that the marriage would not be valid if we did not consummate it. I am sorry.”
His voice was entirely without expression, but Lily found herself reacting to the sound. She wanted to hear it again; she wanted him to say something else, to speak to her. She had buried her face in the sheets that smelled of his sweat, the way she had buried herself in his robes the night James and Harry died. What was wrong with her?
She wanted him closer, not so far away. She wanted him to hold her. The thought of Severus closer, holding her, brought the blood hot to her cheeks. And to her nipples. And between her legs. She huddled in their marriage bed, breath stopped.
“Severus.” Her voice came out wrong. It was shaky and yearning when it should be furious. “Your antidote isn’t working right.”
“What?” He strode back to the bed. “I brewed it perfectly, Lily. I triple checked all the interactions, and I was damn careful what order I gave you things because there were a few interactions I couldn’t compensate for-” He broke off, staring at her. Lily couldn’t hide her reactions: her flush, her blackening eyes, the way her body had simultaneously eased and grown eager at his approach. “Shit, Lily,” he said, his eyes fixed on her wide eyes. “What, what part of the potions are you still feeling?”
He sank down on the bed, staring at her, and she involuntarily moved a little nearer. His hand reached out and stopped.
Lily said thinly, trying to be accurate, “Pretty much all of them, I should think. I don’t know what all you gave me. I feel aphrodisiac effects, of course, but also-I feel inclined still to trust you and to want you, well, just near me. I, I feel better when you’re close.”
Severus shook his head at that. “I didn’t give you any actual lust potions, Lily, and at least some of the other effects should be waning even without the antidote, it’s been a day since I last dosed you-” He broke off suddenly and turned white again, the deathly pallor he’d had at the start of their tryst. “Conditioning.”
The word was vaguely familiar to Lily. “What?”
“Conditioning. It’s a term from one of Petunia’s science books.” He threw back his head suddenly and laughed; the sound was rich with despair. If he were a woman Lily would call it hysteria.
The laughter cut off sharply with a gasp. Severus put his head down, black hair swinging to hide his face, and explained. “Don’t you remember, Lily? A scientist called Pavlov. He rang a bell every time he put down food for the dog: and after a time, the dog salivated every time the bell was rung, whether food was there or not. Or-think of it like training a, a strangler vine. The soft little shoots can’t hold at first, but if you attach them by magic to a support, soon the shoots entwine so tightly they can’t be disentangled.
“That’s… that’s what I did to you. I gave you potions for a number of weeks; now I’ve given you their antidotes. Which work, I am perfectly confident of that. But in the meantime I trained you. Your body has spent over a month being trained that being close to me, being held by me, was your only source of comfort in your grief. That being held by me, being kissed by me was your major source of pleasure.”
He lifted his hand, trailed a finger delicately along her jaw, and then stroked her lips, which opened to his touch. Lily moved a little. Severus jerked back, gasping.
“You see, Lily? I’ve conditioned you. I gave you potions to make you trust me, want to please me, feel grateful to me, feel comforted by my mere presence, feel-not lust actually, but overly sensitized to my touch. The potions are gone; the conditioning is left.”
Severus laughed again, choking. He crouched on the edge of their marriage bed, his head bowed. Lily lay burning in the bed. To trust him, to want to please him, to feel comforted by his presence, grateful for it, sensitized to him… exactly what blazed in her, and it had been burned into her flesh with treachery? His treachery?
He said suddenly, “Oh, fuck-and I took that promise from you.”
A voice, distant, implacable, tolled in Lily’s ears: “I promise. To let you hold me, to let you comfort me, to let you make me feel better.”
Her voice added, gasping, “Severus, please, please, kiss me.”
Lily had known, absolutely, by the last, binding iteration, what she was binding herself to with the last clause.
But that made it easier for her now. She had promised. Thrice. Her promise didn’t ask whether either of them wanted it this way. It just bound her.
Lily pulled Severus back down to her, keeping her promises. He held himself unresponsive as long as he could. He didn’t last long.
It felt good. Worse, it felt right.
Her mind cleared afterward; full contact with him helped. Now that had frightening implications. Severus’s mouth was still on her breast, his tongue lapping her nipple. One of Lily’s legs pinned him to her. She shook him abruptly. “Severus. You weren’t thinking.”
He raised his head groggily from her chest. It was odd to see him flushed when he was normally so pale. Severus’s heart was still beating wildly; she could feel each blow in her own flesh. He said unsteadily, “That… would seem to be apparent, Lily. It seems I wasn’t thinking clearly about a lot of things.”
Lily shook him again, willing him to focus. She said sharply, “Well, this is one of the big ones. You’ll have to report, sometime, to… to You-Know-Who. Won’t he look for something about me? Won’t he expect to see tonight? Won’t you have to have something to show him?”
Severus gaped like a mer and paled again. Lily said furiously, “Which part of tonight do you plan to show him? The part where you cried like a baby because my reactions to you weren’t real? The part where you gave me the antidote? The part where you hated yourself for raping me? This part, now? What the hell are you going to show him, when he invades your mind? Or did you think he wouldn’t, or that he wouldn’t tear you apart looking for me? You asked him to spare me: do you think he won’t look to see what the result was? To see whether you didn’t, maybe, want me too much? What were you thinking, Severus?”
He whispered, “I wasn’t, Lily; it was never my intention to follow through on this. I thought I’d be dead by now. Or you safe, gone.”
Absolutely true, not true at all, and it didn’t get him off the hook.
Lily’s eyes went cold again. “We need to have something to show him. We have to think, Severus!”
He dropped his head to her heart again, shuddering.
After a time, his voice came coolly. “Lily. You are quite correct. We need to stage something I can show him. You will need to act a part. I … shall also need to feel one. He’ll look for my feelings as well as my memories. There is a potion we-” His voice stopped.
Severus swallowed and resumed with deliberation. “There is a potion we use to… eliminate empathy. The Dark Lord prefers we not use it, but sometimes parents or older friends give it to young Death Eaters on their first raid. To prevent failure, which is-severely punished.”
Lily blinked, momentarily diverted. “Wait. If it prevents failure, wouldn’t You-Know-Who want to give it to everyone?”
“You underestimate his taste for torture-and his subtlety. He prefers that his followers, ah, override their squeamishness and their consciences without assistance; also that their compatriots have reason to fear for them. And then if someone does fail to get the better of his better nature, or his cowardice, as the case may be, the Dark Lord gets the fun of inflicting punishment. No, much better to let us muddle through without.”
“Euh. And you followed someone like that? Severus, what the hell were you thinking?”
“It would seem that I was a fool. But that can scarcely come as news.” He grimaced and returned to the point. “But Lily-I should warn you-I am likely to be cruel under this potion’s influence. I won’t-I’m not likely to harm you physically, but I won’t pay any heed to your feelings. I won’t be able to.”
“You’ve used it before?”
“No.”
Lily looked at him challengingly. “Never felt the need, eh?”
A muscle by his mouth twitched. “Not on either side, no. I prefer to feel what I deserve. And I’m a good enough Occlumens… not usually to show it.”
What the hell did that mean? Lily pondered a moment.
Severus looked at her; when she nodded, he left the room and returned with another phial. He lifted the phial to her in an ironic toast and drank.
Severus raised his eyebrows in faint surprise, and then a tension that had seemed intrinsic to him drained from his body. He scanned the room, his eyes passing over Lily indifferently. His face was smooth and empty. After a moment he started putting the room to rights-cleaning the bed linens, replacing the candles with fresh ones, scouring the air with a breeze so no scent of sex remained. With a few passes of his wand all was done. He looked at Lily coolly then. “You’ll need to clean yourself, and-” He strode over to her and put his hands on her thighs, spreading them. She gasped indignantly.
“Yes, I thought so. Bruises elsewhere may be put down to prenuptial necking, but you need to salve these.”
She glared at him; he looked back coolly, annoyed. “We’re setting a scene, Lily, for the Dark Lord’s delectation. We have to pay close attention to detail. Surely you don’t want him to trip us up on some unconsidered trifle? Fortunately I have no windows; that would make it harder to hide the passage of time.”
Lily burned with humiliation; he had looked at her, handled her, as though she were furniture. He left and returned a moment later with a pot of salve. He dabbed some on his torso and buttocks where she had gripped him, then tossed her the pot. “On your thighs, Lily; elsewhere if you choose. It’ll take about two minutes to take effect, and then we need to clean off the residue so the scent doesn’t betray us. And clean yourself. Remember that you undoubtedly wish to look dainty for your bridegroom.”
As sarcasm went it didn’t approach Severus’s standard, much less his worst, but the unconcern with which he spoke was chilling. Lily lifted her head, appalled, and stared at him. He gazed back at her appraisingly and then left the room again. In a moment he returned with a handful of phials. He approached her; she cringed back a little.
He nodded as though a theory had been confirmed and held out a phial. “As I thought. You won’t be able to act well enough without assistance. You’re afraid of me now. Drink this.”
She started away from the phial and said, “Not without knowing what it-”
“I’m not averse to other means.”
He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her, his mouth hard. “Trust me,” he said, pulling her against him. Lily stiffened a moment, struggling, and then her body softened as she absorbed his scent. He might look a blank-faced stranger, he might move differently without his usual taut edge, but he smelled right. She found herself leaning against him confidingly, her eyes fluttering closed.
He was kissing her again, harder, sliding his tongue between her lips. She tasted something unfamiliar in her mouth; it felt good. Her mouth opened eagerly. He was kissing her yet again; he was shaking her, trying to rouse her. Lily opened her eyes obediently, trying to focus.
His eyes were night-black, burning, and beautiful.
She stared, transfixed. “I would like to apply the salve,” he told her, and Lily opened her legs unhesitatingly. His hands smoothed over her thighs. He kissed her again, and then again, whispering, “That’s good. Remember your promises, Lily. You promised to let me-make you feel better.’ Long fingers moved upwards and started to stroke her crisp curls, still wet from earlier.
That much she could remember. It was right to keep her promises, and it felt good. She arched, pressing against his hand. He pushed her down on the bed. He pressed his body atop hers and murmured, “You’re feeling it now, Lily, aren’t you? You’re burning for my touch. You need to please me, you need me to hold you, you need me to pleasure you. You’re not acting a part anymore; you can feel it. Can’t you?”
She rubbed herself against him, gasping. He purred, “I told you to trust me, and now you know I’m right. We’ll put on a good show. It’ll be easy. Trust me.”
Had he dosed her again? The kisses, of course. But he was right; it would be easy now to act as though she wanted him. It would be easy to fool You-Know-Who. It would be easy, the easiest thing in the world, to make love with him right now, despite that disturbing distance in his eyes. He was right again; he was always right. She struggled to pull him closer, to pull him in to her. She keened in disappointment when he pulled away.
He said softly, “Cleanse yourself and dress again in that sweet negligee to please me, Lily. I’ll come back in about a minute, and we’ll start the show.”
He glanced about the room, a final check of the scene he’d set. Then he pulled his dressing gown closer about him. Hard eyes regarded her, and he smiled. “Don’t worry, Lily. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself. One minute, and I’ll be back.”
Fresh candles lit the bed where she lay in a green and silver negligee, her unbound hair scattered on the pillow. Her bridegroom shucked his dressing gown as he strode to the bed; Lily’s body moved eagerly at the sight of his. He smiled. He liked to see her like this, then. She raised herself, pleading, “Severus…”
His wand moved, and she was naked.
He sat at the edge of their bed stroking her alternately with his wand and his hand. Her hips bucked at the jolts of pleasure the black length of wood gave her. The white hand, stroking, comforting in its human warmth, kept returning her to herself in time for another magical shock. The alternate blows of pleasure were too hard, too much. She cried out incoherently, reaching for him.
But she had promised to accept this. He was smiling. He liked to see her like this. “Yes, Lily,” he murmured, “Come for me. Scream for me. Yes, like that.”
Finally he lowered his body atop hers; she shivered with relief at feeling a body moving against her, giving her human-scaled release. “So good,” she moaned, “so good. Severus. Please.”
“You like this, Lily, don’t you?” He asked. He pushed his cock in slowly, withdrew, and then thrust again. He was real, present, here. He was on top of her, fucking her, hers wholly. But he withdrew again.
“You want this, Lily, don’t you? I can make you feel good. I’ll give you everything you want. If you ask nicely.”
She sobbed, “Please, Severus. Please.” She tried to pull him back down to her, but his wand touched her throat. Her hands fell to her sides, her body stilled; she was paralyzed below the neck. His hands stroked between her legs, and then his wand; she would have convulsed in pleasure if she were able. Instead she screamed.
“Once I said something you didn’t like, and you would have nothing to do with me, ever again. You thought you were too good for me. Wasn’t that so, Lily? I called you a Mudblood, and you didn’t want me. But now you want me, don’t you? You don’t care what I call you, do you? You want me to touch you. You want me to fuck you. You want me to let you touch me. Don’t you, Lily?”
She gasped and turned her head away. His hand gripped her jaw and turned it back to face him. His face was a smiling mask, his eyes unreadable. The dark man said softly, “Lily, I’ve already promised you. You can have what you want. I’ll give you everything you want, everything, everything, if you ask me nicely. But you have to ask me nicely. Do you want me to touch you?” His wand touched between her legs again, and she cried out at the fresh surge of sensation. He stroked her with the black wood repeatedly as she screamed. “Yes, that’s very nice, Lily, that’s good, I like to hear you, but you have to say it. Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes,” she sobbed finally, “yes!”
“Good girl,” he soothed, “good little Mudblood.” A white hand replaced the black wood and started to stroke. “Yes, this is what you like, good little Mudblood. Is this what you like?”
Her head whipped back and forth. “Say it!” He demanded, and she whimpered, “Yes….”
“Would you like me to fuck you, little Mudblood? Would you like me to release you and let you touch me? Would you like that, little Mudblood? Would you? Say it!”
One long finger was inside her now while his thumb moved against her clitoris. Her body would be spasming in pleasure if it were able to move. His wand brushed across her nipples, and another whip of too-intense pleasure hit her.
“Yes,” she moaned. She was almost sure that was the right answer.
“Good girl. Good little Mudblood. You don’t like that word, do you? Do you, Lily?” His face was inches above her own, his eyes boring into her.
“No. No, I don’t like that word, you know that!”
His lips curled slowly. “No. You don’t like it. But you like what I can do to you, don’t you?” One hand was still busy at her crotch; the other moved slowly, softly, tracing lines from her belly to her left nipple. Across to the other one, then pausing to cup and stroke. He broke eye contact to bring his mouth down to trace the same path.
Then he sat up, smiling, somehow back at the edge of the bed. “Your choice, Lily. I’ll give you everything you want, you know I will. I’ll fuck you; I’ll touch you everywhere; I’ll let you touch me. I’ll kiss you-you know you want that. If you ask nicely, I’ll give you everything. Ask me to call you a Mudblood.”
She looked at him in fury; Severus smiled back coolly and started fisting himself. “I don’t need you, Lily, look. I can do just fine without you. But you need me.” He stroked his thumb, the same one that had caressed her, over the tip of his cock and gathered a drop of moisture. He smeared it across her upper lip, and she moaned. Her tongue came out to taste it. Severus was leaning on his arms over her again, smiling into her eyes. His own were devoid of any emotion.
His voice turned suddenly smooth, soothing, as he said, “Besides, you have no choice, really. You need to keep your promises….” He kissed her, lowering his body to rub against her again; she sobbed in frustration at being unable to catch him to her.
She had promised to let him make her feel better.
“Ask nicely, Lily, ask nicely.” His erection was prodding her thighs; she couldn’t move to let him in. “Ask me to call you Mudblood. You know I’ll give you everything when you do. You know that, don’t you, Lily?”
His wand touched her; she screamed again, helpless to stop herself. When she could speak, she whispered, defeated, “Yes. Call me Mudblood. Please.”
Her arms were suddenly free again to embrace him. Her thighs parted, her back arched, welcoming him. He was laughing as he thrust. “Good girl. Good little Mudblood. Filthy little Mudblood. There, that’s better, isn’t it? Good little Mudblood.”
When he had finished, he lay atop her a moment, gasping. Then he laughed again and rolled on his side, pulling her with him. “It’s not over yet, not nearly, little Mudblood. You want more, don’t you? We’re not done yet, there’s so much more….” She shivered at the promise, moving to press herself against him. “Yes, you like the touch of my flesh, you need the feel of my skin against yours, don’t you, little Mudblood? Here, let’s see…”
He turned her so that her back was pressed against him; every nerve from her bum to the nape of her neck sang with pleasure. His leg slung over her and pressed her close. One of his arms was half trapped by her head, but the hand still had some freedom to explore her breasts and shoulder. The other long-fingered hand moved in slow patterns before settling again between her legs. “Ask me nicely,” he whispered.
“Please, call me Mudblood…”
His hand started moving and he murmured in her ear, “Little Mudblood. It feels so good, doesn’t it, little Mudblood…” When she was writhing he started using his tongue and teeth on her, first on the earlobe, then on her throat, then lower, never stopping his soft flow of obscenities. Her greatest frustration was being so little able to touch him. Finally one of her hands caught his hip, the other trapped his fingers on her breast, and she rode his hand to orgasm.
“Sweet Mudblood, is it good?” he whispered as she came.
He was still holding her, stroking, touching her everywhere as he had promised. He had kept his promises; so had she, she thought giddily. She was letting him… she cried out and spasmed, once and twice again.
She lay in a haze for a time, and then felt his wand pressing against her. This time each overpowering pulse of pleasure from the black wood was followed immediately by his sweet flesh, by an obliging mouth or hand or cock or thigh, bringing her to completion, over and over. His voice hissed obscenities in her ear.
One time he sat at the far end of the bed, leaning back casually on his arms, rubbing her only with his long white foot. His voice explained, “Little Mudblood, I want you to understand that any part of me can bring you pleasure.” It was true, truer than anything.
Some time later, he rubbed a cramp-relieving balm over her pelvis and thighs. Her muscles eased from their overstimulation and went slack, easy, comforted. Long fingers smoothed another balm over her nipples and labia, soothing the redness and minor abrasions from so much friction. He gave her water to drink, or maybe it was another potion. She wasn’t tracking any more. The moisture felt so good in her throat, so kind. His hands, his wand, refused to stop touching her. Her tired body tautened again at the recurrent stimulation.
His voice was increasingly hoarse, “Ask me nicely.”
Hers grew fainter as she faded, obedient to her lesson, “Call me Mudblood. Please.”
A dark voice, exhausted, unyielding, embedded itself in her flesh with soft, obscene, true statements, “Little Mudblood, you like this. Sweet Mudblood, you need this.”
She did.
Lily passed out finally in his arms.
*
The Dark Mark burned.
Severus robed himself, went to the Hogwarts bounds, and Disapparated. He still felt oddly blank.
“So how was your bereft widow, Severus?”
“Enthusiastic, and, ah, eminently trainable.” He let the Dark Lord seize a glimpse of memory, imperfectly guarded. Lily had been right; it gave exactly the right impression.
A/N Part of the supposed speech given by Saint Lucia, patroness of the blind:
“No one's body is polluted so as to endanger the soul if it has not pleased the mind. If you were to lift my hand to your idol and so make me offer against my will, I would still be guiltless in the sight of the true God, who judges according to the will and knows all things. If now, against my will, you cause me to be polluted, a twofold purity will be gloriously imputed to me. You cannot bend my will to your purpose; whatever you do to my body, that cannot happen to me.”