Love's Willing Prey - The Visit

[valogoddess]

Chapter Five--The Visit

-POP-

Narcissa Apparated alongside the bank of the murky, smelly river that ran alongside Severus’ run-down neighborhood. She couldn’t help but feel glad that he lived in a place where few wizards or witches had ever set foot; it would be somewhat embarrassing for a lady of her status to be seen in such surroundings. Gathering her bearings with some difficulty in the waning twilight, she set off with quick footsteps towards Severus’ house.

I wonder if I should have sent an owl to let him know what time I'd be there, she wondered distractedly. As she stumbled ungracefully over the rocky ground that sloped upward past the riverbank, she wished she hadn’t worn high-heeled shoes. Her cloak hem caught repeatedly on the low brambles; Narcissa tried to pull it up higher on her shoulders several times, but to no avail. She finally took the cloak off altogether and draped it over her left forearm, glad that it was a mild night.

What if he’s in the middle of dinner? It’s late enough already, she thought as she took in the last rays of sunlight creeping over the barren lawns and dilapidated houses, visible now that she was clear of the river.

She made a left here, then a right towards the giant old mill, and finally passed through a filthy, narrow alleyway. Narcissa was now heading up the street called Spinner’s End, just as she had two years ago with Bellatrix in tow. She smirked, imagining what her sister would say if she knew that she was visiting Snape again. Then Narcissa remembered something--did Wormtail still live with Severus? She didn’t know if she would feel more or less nervous with him around, but the phrase “three’s a crowd” automatically came to mind.

As a stark yellowish light appeared from above her, she saw that she had already passed the final streetlight before Severus’ house. Her anxiety peaked as she acknowledged that from this point, it was impossible to discreetly turn back. Most Wizarding homes had Intruder Charms in place to protect against unexpected visitors, and Narcissa knew that Severus’ home would be no exception--he probably already knew she was approaching.

In another moment, she was making her way up the crumbling patio of Severus’ house, and sure enough, the door opened before she could even reach it to knock.

“Narcissa! How pleasant to see you,” Snape intoned as he ushered her inside quickly and snapped the door shut behind them.

“Hello, Severus--”

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”

“Oh, well, I did say I would come,” Narcissa began somewhat lamely, taking in the relatively unchanged surroundings of Severus’ dimly lit foyer and living room. Snape held out his arm to take her traveling cloak, and Narcissa curled her lip when she spied the brambles and thorns embedded in the cloak’s fine satin hem.

“I daresay, when you agreed to visit last night, you were not in an ideal state to...make promises.” Severus smirked as Narcissa met his eyes and quickly looked away, unable to think of a fitting retort.

“Come, let’s have dinner; it isn’t much, but I normally dine at sunset and thought to prepare extra in the event of your presence.”

“Mmm, thank you, dinner sounds wonderful,” Narcissa exclaimed as she followed Snape through a darkened hallway towards the back of his house, where his dining room must be. “Severus, does Wormtail still stay with you?” Narcissa asked, not particularly caring about the answer, but wanting to avoid any awkward lapses in conversation.

The hallway opened up to reveal what appeared to the kitchen, with a roughly hewn wooden table and two chairs at one end of the dark, cherry-paneled room.

“No, not anymore. He was...resisting my authority, as you might have noticed when you and your dear sister came to call last year.”

Narcissa nodded, watching as Severus drew his wand from his robes and waved it lazily, igniting five stubby candles in a dusty chandelier. The soft golden light illuminated a modestly-sized yet mouthwatering feast awaiting them on the table.

“I did finally inform the Dark Lord of his, ah, newfound thirst for adventure, and he has since been assigned to another task. I value my privacy, and Wormtail’s help was little more than a nuisance anyway.”

“Yes,” Narcissa said absently; her eyes remained fixed upon the table for a moment before turning them on Snape. “Do you cook like this when it’s just for yourself, Severus?”

“Usually,” Snape said dryly. “I see no reason why I should forgo culinary pleasures just because I live alone.” He held out one of the crudely carved chairs for her, and she sat down, feeling slightly wrong-footed at his chivalry. “Why? Did you assume I went to all this trouble for you, Narcissa?”

“Oh--no, of course not!” Narcissa exclaimed, embarrassed. However, she looked across the table to find that Severus’ expression was light and playful as he took the seat opposite her. He flicked his wand and two long-stemmed wineglasses appeared on the table.

“Chianti? Merlot?”

“Actually, I prefer red wines after a meal,” Narcissa said offhandedly, still eyeing the feast; “do you usually drink them with dinner?”

Severus raised an eyebrow wordlessly as he waved his wand and produced a medium-sized bottle of Chenin Blanc for the two of them. Another wand flick and the bottle uncorked itself obligingly; Severus poured each of them a generous measure.

“Thank you,” Narcissa said, and drank deeply before touching her food. There was Bucatini with green beans, tomatoes and olives; braised turnips with chives and parsley; and a Sicilian salad with lemon-garlic dressing. Narcissa waited for Snape to begin eating, then tucked in appreciatively.

“This is delicious, Severus. Wherever did you learn to cook like this?” Narcissa inquired between mouthfuls.

“Self-taught,” Snape said blandly. “As with all things in life, if one wants to excel, one must endeavor to learn by themself.”

As he paused to refill Narcissa’s glass, it occured to her that the last time they had shared a bottle, Severus had toasted the Dark Lord. At the time, she had wondered whether that gesture was due to Bellatrix and Wormtail’s presence more than her own. The lack of a toast this time seemed to confirm her suspicions, and this knowledge came almost as a comfort to her. As far as Narcissa was concerned, the Dark Lord’s treatment of her family was more than enough to drive anyone to disloyalty; she had no desire to raise a glass in his name even before Draco’s death.

They ate in relative, although not uncomfortable, silence. Narcissa hadn’t realized how hungry she had been, and she certainly hadn’t expected Severus to be such an accomplished cook. Not wanting to appear greedy, she laid down her fork before the plate was completely empty and smiled, truly grateful for the unexpected pleasure of a home-cooked meal.

Snape gestured towards Narcissa’s empty wineglass. “Shall I refill you again?”

“Please,” Narcissa said at once, and then found herself somewhat embarrassed by her eagerness. “It’s...not as strong as firewhiskey, you know,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

Snape’s lip curled slightly in what appeared to be amusement. “Perhaps--however, a fresh glass might be more pleasing to the palate.” He waved his wand and cleared the rough-hewn table completely. “My main collection of wines is kept in the living room; you are welcome to select any variety.”

“Oh, okay,” Narcissa agreed timidly as she followed him back towards the foyer. She hadn’t noticed a wine rack visible anywhere when she had entered, but then, Severus’ home was full of hidden secrets...not unlike himself.

Narcissa watched him cross to a nondescript shelf amongst the many bookcases lining the walls. He tapped it once with his wand, and the books slid aside to reveal ornate iron racks that held an impressive variety of wines.

Turning around, Severus beckoned her forward. “Name your pleasure,” he stated gently.

After a careful look, Narcissa indicated a particularly dusty, blood-red bottle at the top of the rack. “Is that Bordeaux?”

“Indeed it is.” Severus’ lips curled into a thin smile as he took the bottle down, along with two fresh wineglasses. “I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”

Narcissa seated herself comfortably on the sofa, even though the room was still relatively dark. She wasn’t really in a mood for deep conversation, but Severus seemed to understand this (or at least, didn’t seem to mind), and she was grateful for that. It was easier to just numb herself to her troubles whenever they came to call. Now that she was here, Narcissa found herself feeling rather glad that she had come. Severus had always proven to be good company, even when company in general was unwanted.

Snape set down the bottle and glasses on the coffee table, then conjured several handfuls of candles to float in midair, giving a comforting glow to the room. Narcissa found herself grinning--typical Capricorn, she thought, so elegant yet understated.

He uncorked the bottle and filled both glasses only partially, leaving room to swirl the wine and appreciate its aroma. Snape handed her the glass with a nod, and she thanked him. Narcissa expected him to sit across from her, but he sank down next to her instead, swirling his glass idly before taking a sip.

“Now then, I’ve been quite curious as to how you’ve been lately,” he began, his eyes suddenly seeming to bore into hers. Narcissa wished he wouldn’t look at her like that, it was as if he could see right through to her pain inside.

“Well, I’ve been...I’ve been okay,” she started weakly, and rather evasively.

“That’s something,” Snape alleged, “especially in present circumstances.” He paused and Narcissa didn‘t reply. “Narcissa, I want you to know how sorry I am--about...Draco.”

Why does he want to talk about this now?

Snape suddenly took up her hand in his, and she looked up at him, rather startled. “I cared about him too, probably more than you realize. I need you to believe that I did all I could to prevent it,” Snape murmured.

“Yes,” she assured him, feeling somewhat confused, “of course I believe you.”

Severus looked intently at her for another moment, and then his expressions softened, as if he could tell she meant what she had said. More to get off the painful subject of Draco than anything, Narcissa took a gulp of wine and began talking about the first thing that came to mind.

“So, is that story the Prophet ran last week true? Do they really think that Dumbledore wasn’t murdered?”

Snape hesitated; for a moment Narcissa thought he wouldn’t allow the subject to be changed so quickly.

“Ah, yes, they do think that,” he began in a somewhat constrained tone of voice, “and the amusing thing is, even Harry Potter believes in my innocence, although he plainly saw me cast the Avada Kedvara.” Snape’s eyes glittered strangely.

“Of course, I take little pleasure in biting the hand that feeds, or more precisely, killing the one whose protection has kept me out of Azkaban all these years,” he pursed his lips slightly as he leaned back into the soft leather. “However, we all have our priorities, and mine were Draco and myself over Dumbledore. The Order has long doubted my fidelity, but the fact is, they need me as much as I need them.”

“But how did you convince them of your innocence?” Narcissa asked, genuinely intrigued now.

“So simple, really. I arranged for the Order of the Phoenix to discover a letter from Dumbledore saying that his death was a planned event, calculated for that moment as a show of faith to the Dark Lord. Thus, I could continue in my role as spy for the Order. The Order has sustained some considerable blows this past year, but they are yet convinced of my loyalty, and they do not detect my hand in the downfalls they have suffered.” Narcissa looked at Severus with admiration, not recognizing his discomfort for what it was.

“They really believe that Dumbledore sacrificed himself willingly?” Narcissa asked, a sneer in her voice. Selflessness and sacrifice were appallingly stupid concepts in the opinion of most Slytherins. “How can they be so easy to manipulate?”

Snape’s dark eyes glittered as he swirled his wine. “Fools that trust blindly are always the first to be deceived,” he said matter-of-factly. Narcissa took another tentative sip of her wine, remembering to swirl it this time and being pleasantly surprised at the difference it made in the flavor and aroma.

“But enough about all that,” Snape continued, his deep voice becoming light again but more passionate. “Narcissa, as the war goes on, I feel that it is my duty to protect you in any way I can, and it so happens that I have realized a perfect means of doing so.”

Narcissa felt a flush creeping onto her cheeks in spite of herself and she cast her eyes downward, onto her unfinished drink. Snape got up, and she watched interestedly as he crossed the room and tapped a sequence of books on the opposite shelf with his wand. This time only one heavy tome slid aside, revealing a small, intricately carved brass door. Severus muttered a barely audible incantation; the door glowed red for a moment and then disappeared altogether.

He plunged his hand into the darkness within, and Narcissa felt her curiosity mounting. She wondered why she was feeling so jittery in his presence, and took another steadying gulp of her Bordeaux.

Snape finally retrieved a dusty black velvet pouch from the small chamber. It looked aged and rather threadbare, but it was tied with a fine braid of golden silk; Severus held it delicately in the palm of his hand as he returned to where Narcissa was seated. She drained her wineglass absently as her eyes traveled from the black pouch to Severus’ face.

“This is a very powerful talisman, a magical object that will grant the wearer utmost protection,” Snape said as he untied the braid of silk and slid a heavy, engraved locket out of the worn velvet and into his outstretched hand.

“Oh, Severus,” Narcissa stammered as she admired the beautiful locket, “where did you get such a thing? Surely that’s too special; you’re not thinking of giving it to me?” He didn’t answer but instead moved behind the couch to fasten the locket around her neck. Narcissa shivered as he moved her long hair out of the way, his fingers brushing her collarbone.

“Where it came from is not important. Suffice it to say that I have my connections,” he said mysteriously. “The important thing is that you keep this locket safe, and it will do the same for you.”

Narcissa tried to bring it closer to her face to get a better look, but found that the chain was too short. This must be at least as expensive as anything Lucius ever bought me... She couldn’t help but wonder where it had come from, how Severus had acquired it, and why he was bestowing it upon her.

“The enchantments only protect the wearer, so I’ll advise you not to take it off.”

She ran her fingers reverently over the locket’s thin chain and deep engravings, noting its heft. Severus could undoubtedly sell such a thing for a good profit at Borgin and Burke’s, and Narcissa was merely the wife of a jailed Death Eater, not really worth protecting--or attacking. Still, she had learned propriety from a tender age--one never looks a gift horse in the mouth.

“Severus, I’m...flattered--how can I ever thank you?”

“By taking care of yourself,“ Severus stipulated gravely. “Listen, Narcissa,” he explained, unexpectedly reaching out for her hand again, “one benefit of my position is that I hear things, and what I’ve been hearing lately has...concerned me...regarding your welfare. Nothing specific, of course,” he added reassuringly at the incredulous fear that had just blazed in Narcissa’s eyes, “but I’ve seen enough tragedy, and this locket can ensure that at least one person is safe from the war.”

Narcissa’s mind was straining--what kind of danger could she possibly be in from the war? The Dark Lord had already ruined her life beyond recognition, and - dare she think it? - death would, in some ways, be as much of a relief as a tragedy.

“This locket has a complex variety of enchantments on it, and it is very old. It may come to be quite...important...in the future, but your protection is my utmost priority,” Snape finished, squeezing her hand in an almost sensual way that elicited a curious shiver down Narcissa’s spine.

She raised her hand to her throat again, appreciating the locket’s coolness against her skin. “Thank you Severus,” she said, nearly breathless as he looked at her tenderly, but with a blazing fierceness in his black eyes.

“Remember, never take it off.”

“I won’t,” she whispered. A strange atmosphere began to spiral around them, and Narcissa felt increasingly uncomfortable being so close to him; she tentatively removed her hand from his, embarrassed yet again.

Severus’ gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, and then he turned around and cleared away the empty wineglasses with a wave of his wand. “It’s getting late,” he said. Narcissa automatically rose from the sofa, still feeling wrong-footed and rather uncomfortable.

“Oh, it’s past ten o’clock! Where did the time go? Yes, you’re quite right, I should be on my way--” Snape turned to give her a piercing look, and Narcissa had the feeling that he could sense every bit of her nervous discomfort.

“Severus, thank you so much...for everything. Dinner was lovely, this locket is utterly breathtaking, and--well, I hadn’t really realized how lonely I’ve been.” They both headed toward the front door where her traveling cloak was hanging, and Narcissa was surprised to note that the irksome brambles that had gotten caught in the hem were no longer present; Severus must have Vanished them without her noticing.

“It’s been really good to see you, Narcissa,” Snape said in his deep, melodic voice as he handed Narcissa her cloak. “I hope you know you’re always welcome to come by, if you‘re feeling lonely.”

Narcissa felt awkward just walking out the door, so she haltingly reached out and grabbed Severus’ hand by way of a farewell. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” - she glanced pointedly at her thorn-free cloak hem - “don’t think anything goes unnoticed.”

Snape inclined his head in a small bow, a smirk playing all around his mouth. Narcissa returned the expression, trying to end the visit on a confident note despite her precarious emotional state.

“Take care of yourself, Cissa,” Snape admonished sternly, but there was a subtle warmth present in his gaze, and a barely suppressed smirk still upon his lips.

“I will,” she said softly, and turned away into the clear breezy night, feeling oddly content yet unsettled at the same time.

A/N: Delicious dinner menu from The Vegan Gourmet cookbook. For the record, the book agrees with Severus that Chianti was an ideal wine to pair with that meal.