Love's Willing Prey - Dinner With Snape
Chapter Twelve - Dinner With Snape
Lucius was being unnaturally affectionate towards his wife since he had returned...or possibly only since he had spied Snape’s locket against her throat.
It was torturous for Narcissa, having to pretend to enjoy Lucius’ domineering kisses, his hands constantly roving her body. Azkaban must have effectively renewed a craving for human touch in Lucius, because Narcissa was quite taken aback by all of his affection. Years ago she might have enjoyed this, but not now. The irony was incredible.
Although Snape knew that it was only a matter of time before Lucius Malfoy returned to Narcissa, he was admittedly horror-struck when the pair of them arrived unannounced on his doorstep.
After all that had happened between himself and Narcissa, it dredged up wounds of the oldest and most painful kind to see Lucius with her again. Snape was a logical creature, however, and bitterly acknowledged that it would be quite dangerous for Narcissa to do anything other than keep up pretenses. Snape was quite sure that Lucius wasn’t aware of anything delicate that had transpired in his absence, but he had always known the man to behave in an overly possessive manner towards anything that he perceived as his own.
So, Severus served them dinner and they made do with forced small talk, as if they were all upstanding members of society and not a convicted Death Eater, an adulteress, and a double agent...a murderer. As the evening dragged on like some farced drama-act, Snape found himself eternally thankful that he was a Legilimens, and also that Mr. Malfoy was not. A lesser man than Severus would have faltered under the pressure, but the first look into Narcissa’s eyes had told him all he needed to know.
Lucius Malfoy looked physically worse from his time spent in Azkaban, but he had changed very little otherwise. He still conducted himself like royalty.
“Again, you have our deepest gratitude for accepting us into your...humble home...for dinner, Severus. It was such short notice, but given the circumstances--”
“Oh, not at all, not at all, my friend,” Snape replied over his wine glass, a muted feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins, unbeknownst to his preoccupied dinner guest. “I was glad to be of assistance.”
“Yes, it’s good to be among friends again,“ Lucius drawled. “It seems that many of the Dark Lord’s servants have shown where their true loyalties lie since the Wizarding world has acknowledged his return.” Lucius leaned back magisterially on Snape’s leather sofa and draped a lazy arm around his wife, who was looking at Snape but kept silent.
“Obviously,” Snape began, “some of his servants do not recognize the extent of the Dark Lord‘s power. There are many in the Wizarding world, and quite possibly among our own ranks, that continue to underestimate him,” he added with an angry sneer that was not entirely related to what he was saying, as Lucius had chosen that moment to bestow a kiss upon Narcissa.
“Ah, yes....like that meddlesome fool Dumbledore,” Lucius elaborated, “hiding Harry Potter under his overlong beard all these years, repeatedly overlooking the welfare of the school and hiring the most unsuitable candidates for teaching positions--yourself not implied, of course, Severus,” he added with thinly veiled arrogance.
“Of course,” demurred Snape silkily; he was not about to let Lucius Malfoy get away with insulting him in his own home. “But of course you must have heard while you were in Azkaban, about what happened to Dumbledore?”
“Yes, indeed I did,” Lucius started slowly, “however, I simply must hear it firsthand: so tell us Severus--how did you really get rid of that old fool? And more interestingly, how did you manage to remain a free man? Surely there were witnesses? Why, my own son...”
Their conversation was like a drill, boring into Narcissa’s very heart and soul--how could they be so callous? Both of them! Narcissa could care less about Dumbledore’s hiring practices or even his protecting Harry Potter, but the fact remained that if the Dark Lord had not ordered Draco to kill that man, he might be here with them today.
Draco was offered the unsavory choice of murderer or victim...and then she, Narcissa, had selfishly presented Severus with the same options upon making the Unbreakable Vow with him. Of course, it would all be different if Draco had been alive. Her son was the most precious thing in the world to her; any decent mother would die--or kill--to save their son, she reasoned.
However, Narcissa stared into the crackling fire as she acquiesced that the hands of her lover had been bloodstained indirectly by her. She thought of Severus' soft, caressing touch and shuddered slightly; she thought of the way that her name rolled silkily off his tongue and found that she could barely conceive of him saying those irrevocable words--Avada Kedavra...
Narcissa suspected that Snape didn’t have the contempt that the Dark Lord or even the other Death Eaters had for Dumbledore, and she found herself dwelling on whether it had pained him at all to do it...to kill...
“...Narcissa!”
“Oh, yes? Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Narcissa smiled wanly at the two men, hoping to conceal her precarious mental state. She hoped that they had moved on to more neutral topics of conversation. Lucius shifted agitatedly in his seat; too much wine often gave him a nasty temper. Narcissa eyed the empty wine bottle on the coffee table, and reasoned that after so long in prison, he must have been eager to indulge.
“We were just discussing the finer points of our next few days--were you listening at all?” Lucius asked sharply.
Narcissa shot a furtive glance at Snape, and proceeded with caution; she could tell her husband was drunk. “Darling, I’m so sorry, I must have dropped off for a moment; could you...tell me again, please?”
It was Snape who spoke first, however. “Narcissa, Malfoy manor is the most likely place for the Aurors to look for Lucius, so they are undoubtedly monitoring your Floo, and perhaps even searching your owls. However,” he paused to look at Lucius, “My name is clear; I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix, therefore they would never suspect a person such as myself to harbor a criminal.” Snape smirked amusedly at this, but Narcissa noticed his eyes glittering strangely.
“So, what are you suggesting, that we stay with you now?”
“Damn!” Lucius interjected loudly and they both turned to look at him. “You weren’t listening at all, were you?” Narcissa wanted to run and hide; she doubted Lucius would do anything worse than shout while they were in mixed company, but she was too embarrassed to even look at Severus. However, it was as if Snape knew that Lucius' temper flaring wasn’t a rare occurrence in the Malfoy home, because he continued to address both of them as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“Lucius is going to stay here, while you are to return the manor. That way, you can act as if you know nothing of the prison break. Meanwhile, we can communicate and travel by my Floo, and the Ministry shouldn't suspect a thing.” Snape held Narcissa’s gaze a bit longer than was necessary; he wanted to do something to reassure her.
“Oh.” Narcissa said blankly. “Is that the best thing, then? Should--should I leave now?” She was suddenly craving the warm hazy comfort of a firewhiskey, preferably in solitude.
“You might as well,“ drawled Lucius after holding his icy gaze upon her for several moments. “I am still tired from my journey, and you must have our belongings ready for travel within the next two days--” He broke off because at these words, Narcissa‘s face had become almost panic-stricken and her eyes wide with dread.
“But, surely, your dear sister informed you ages ago about the Dark Lord‘s...new assignment?”
“Yes, of course....” Narcissa said slowly, “but, how did you know Bella told me?”
“Why, she was the one who helped me escape,” Lucius said with an air of...was it smugness? “Oh yes, my dear, your sister and I had plenty of time to catch up. But enough of this--the hour is late, and I would still like to chat with my friend Snape before I retire.” His eyes lingered on Snape for a moment too long before he set down his half-finished glass of wine and rose from the couch. “So, this is goodnight, my dear.”
“Yes,” Narcissa said automatically, and her eyes traveled over to Snape. “Thank you for dinner, for everything, Severus”
Snape’s face was inscrutable as he replied, “Not at all, Mrs. Malfoy.”
Being addressed like that by Severus felt nearly insulting, yet who else could she possibly be but “Mrs. Malfoy” in the presence of Lucius? No, in the shadow of Lucius....under Lucius' thumb....
Snape stood to fetch Narcissa's cloak and bag, while Lucius made a show of kissing her farewell.
I can‘t believe this is happening, Narcissa mused as she tried to close her eyes and imagine that it was Severus that she was kissing and not her husband. As they broke apart, Narcissa forced a smile, and Lucius pulled her into an almost crushing embrace. From over Lucius’ shoulder, she locked eyes with Severus for a moment before he looked deliberately away. Narcissa mentally cursed herself--she never intended anyone to get hurt.
She couldn‘t be sure, but again it seemed that Lucius was being overly affectionate towards her. Was he simply overjoyed to be reunited with his wife again, or was it something more--something she should be worried about?
Narcissa took a hadnful of floo powder and threw it in Snape’s fire without another word. Her gaze lingered heavily on the two men before she said simply, “Good night, Lucius. Good night, Severus.”
“Pleasant dreams, my darling,” Lucius drawled, his eyes piercing her.
"Farewell," Snape said stiffly.
She stepped over the hearth without another word and called out, “Malfoy Manor!”
Narcissa was gone. The green tinged flames hadn’t even fully resumed their normal color before Lucius had drawn his wand and thrust it viciously at Snape’s throat, his eyes alight with fury and vengeance.
Snape staggered backward, falling onto the couch ungracefully, but he had suspected this to be coming: His wand was also drawn and aimed delicately at Lucius‘ heart, although Lucius was not yet aware of this.
“You,” he stated, his voice quiet but full of menace, “You who I called a friend, you who my son looked up to, you dare betray my trust and try to steal what is MINE?!”
Lucius’ voice had grown to a roar, but he raised a quizzical eyebrow and smirked as he felt Snape’s wand pressing in between his ribs. They were equally armed and well-matched; each knew that it was possible to lose - or even die - if they dueled. It was Snape that spoke first.
“Lucius,” Snape began, his voice calm and composed, “whatever are you upset about? Surely not that enchanted locket I gave your wife? I couldn't help but notice that she was not wearing it this evening, despite the fact that I asked her never to remove it.”
Mr. Malfoy got up abruptly and violently straightened his robes. In a dangerously quiet voice, he said, “You admit to this?”
“But of course, Lucius, my friend,” Snape began, his expression politely incredulous, his voice hinting at amusement. “I gave Mrs. Malfoy that locket because she seemed so distraught, and I had hoped to ease her discomfort over your absence.” Snape looked earnestly into the elder Malfoy’s eyes.
“I was merely thinking of you, my friend.” If he only knew what I thought of him....
Lucius looked comforted, if only momentarily. He picked up his wine glass and drained it; Snape took this opportunity to conjure another bottle for the two of them.
“My wife is a beautiful woman, is she not?” Lucius began, a faraway expression on his face as he spoke.
“Someone as powerful and noble-blooded as Lucius Malfoy deserves only the best,” Snape said smoothly.
Lucius smirked as he sipped his glass of wine thoughtfully.
“Yes, you’re quite right old friend,“ he drawled magisterially, “anyone would have to be a fool...to try and take her from me.” His eyes lingered on Snape’s, undoubtedly in an attempt to intimidate, but little did Lucius know that he was merely making it easier for Snape to exploit his thoughts.
“Indeed,” Snape said as he inclined his head in a bow. He raised his glass of wine in a toast.
“To the Malfoys,” Snape said silkily, and Lucius echoed him.
They smiled as they both drained their glasses. Snape was not a man to be intimidated, but Lucius was not one to be easily fooled either.
Lucius was being unnaturally affectionate towards his wife since he had returned...or possibly only since he had spied Snape’s locket against her throat.
It was torturous for Narcissa, having to pretend to enjoy Lucius’ domineering kisses, his hands constantly roving her body. Azkaban must have effectively renewed a craving for human touch in Lucius, because Narcissa was quite taken aback by all of his affection. Years ago she might have enjoyed this, but not now. The irony was incredible.
Although Snape knew that it was only a matter of time before Lucius Malfoy returned to Narcissa, he was admittedly horror-struck when the pair of them arrived unannounced on his doorstep.
After all that had happened between himself and Narcissa, it dredged up wounds of the oldest and most painful kind to see Lucius with her again. Snape was a logical creature, however, and bitterly acknowledged that it would be quite dangerous for Narcissa to do anything other than keep up pretenses. Snape was quite sure that Lucius wasn’t aware of anything delicate that had transpired in his absence, but he had always known the man to behave in an overly possessive manner towards anything that he perceived as his own.
So, Severus served them dinner and they made do with forced small talk, as if they were all upstanding members of society and not a convicted Death Eater, an adulteress, and a double agent...a murderer. As the evening dragged on like some farced drama-act, Snape found himself eternally thankful that he was a Legilimens, and also that Mr. Malfoy was not. A lesser man than Severus would have faltered under the pressure, but the first look into Narcissa’s eyes had told him all he needed to know.
Lucius Malfoy looked physically worse from his time spent in Azkaban, but he had changed very little otherwise. He still conducted himself like royalty.
“Again, you have our deepest gratitude for accepting us into your...humble home...for dinner, Severus. It was such short notice, but given the circumstances--”
“Oh, not at all, not at all, my friend,” Snape replied over his wine glass, a muted feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins, unbeknownst to his preoccupied dinner guest. “I was glad to be of assistance.”
“Yes, it’s good to be among friends again,“ Lucius drawled. “It seems that many of the Dark Lord’s servants have shown where their true loyalties lie since the Wizarding world has acknowledged his return.” Lucius leaned back magisterially on Snape’s leather sofa and draped a lazy arm around his wife, who was looking at Snape but kept silent.
“Obviously,” Snape began, “some of his servants do not recognize the extent of the Dark Lord‘s power. There are many in the Wizarding world, and quite possibly among our own ranks, that continue to underestimate him,” he added with an angry sneer that was not entirely related to what he was saying, as Lucius had chosen that moment to bestow a kiss upon Narcissa.
“Ah, yes....like that meddlesome fool Dumbledore,” Lucius elaborated, “hiding Harry Potter under his overlong beard all these years, repeatedly overlooking the welfare of the school and hiring the most unsuitable candidates for teaching positions--yourself not implied, of course, Severus,” he added with thinly veiled arrogance.
“Of course,” demurred Snape silkily; he was not about to let Lucius Malfoy get away with insulting him in his own home. “But of course you must have heard while you were in Azkaban, about what happened to Dumbledore?”
“Yes, indeed I did,” Lucius started slowly, “however, I simply must hear it firsthand: so tell us Severus--how did you really get rid of that old fool? And more interestingly, how did you manage to remain a free man? Surely there were witnesses? Why, my own son...”
Their conversation was like a drill, boring into Narcissa’s very heart and soul--how could they be so callous? Both of them! Narcissa could care less about Dumbledore’s hiring practices or even his protecting Harry Potter, but the fact remained that if the Dark Lord had not ordered Draco to kill that man, he might be here with them today.
Draco was offered the unsavory choice of murderer or victim...and then she, Narcissa, had selfishly presented Severus with the same options upon making the Unbreakable Vow with him. Of course, it would all be different if Draco had been alive. Her son was the most precious thing in the world to her; any decent mother would die--or kill--to save their son, she reasoned.
However, Narcissa stared into the crackling fire as she acquiesced that the hands of her lover had been bloodstained indirectly by her. She thought of Severus' soft, caressing touch and shuddered slightly; she thought of the way that her name rolled silkily off his tongue and found that she could barely conceive of him saying those irrevocable words--Avada Kedavra...
Narcissa suspected that Snape didn’t have the contempt that the Dark Lord or even the other Death Eaters had for Dumbledore, and she found herself dwelling on whether it had pained him at all to do it...to kill...
“...Narcissa!”
“Oh, yes? Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Narcissa smiled wanly at the two men, hoping to conceal her precarious mental state. She hoped that they had moved on to more neutral topics of conversation. Lucius shifted agitatedly in his seat; too much wine often gave him a nasty temper. Narcissa eyed the empty wine bottle on the coffee table, and reasoned that after so long in prison, he must have been eager to indulge.
“We were just discussing the finer points of our next few days--were you listening at all?” Lucius asked sharply.
Narcissa shot a furtive glance at Snape, and proceeded with caution; she could tell her husband was drunk. “Darling, I’m so sorry, I must have dropped off for a moment; could you...tell me again, please?”
It was Snape who spoke first, however. “Narcissa, Malfoy manor is the most likely place for the Aurors to look for Lucius, so they are undoubtedly monitoring your Floo, and perhaps even searching your owls. However,” he paused to look at Lucius, “My name is clear; I am a member of the Order of the Phoenix, therefore they would never suspect a person such as myself to harbor a criminal.” Snape smirked amusedly at this, but Narcissa noticed his eyes glittering strangely.
“So, what are you suggesting, that we stay with you now?”
“Damn!” Lucius interjected loudly and they both turned to look at him. “You weren’t listening at all, were you?” Narcissa wanted to run and hide; she doubted Lucius would do anything worse than shout while they were in mixed company, but she was too embarrassed to even look at Severus. However, it was as if Snape knew that Lucius' temper flaring wasn’t a rare occurrence in the Malfoy home, because he continued to address both of them as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“Lucius is going to stay here, while you are to return the manor. That way, you can act as if you know nothing of the prison break. Meanwhile, we can communicate and travel by my Floo, and the Ministry shouldn't suspect a thing.” Snape held Narcissa’s gaze a bit longer than was necessary; he wanted to do something to reassure her.
“Oh.” Narcissa said blankly. “Is that the best thing, then? Should--should I leave now?” She was suddenly craving the warm hazy comfort of a firewhiskey, preferably in solitude.
“You might as well,“ drawled Lucius after holding his icy gaze upon her for several moments. “I am still tired from my journey, and you must have our belongings ready for travel within the next two days--” He broke off because at these words, Narcissa‘s face had become almost panic-stricken and her eyes wide with dread.
“But, surely, your dear sister informed you ages ago about the Dark Lord‘s...new assignment?”
“Yes, of course....” Narcissa said slowly, “but, how did you know Bella told me?”
“Why, she was the one who helped me escape,” Lucius said with an air of...was it smugness? “Oh yes, my dear, your sister and I had plenty of time to catch up. But enough of this--the hour is late, and I would still like to chat with my friend Snape before I retire.” His eyes lingered on Snape for a moment too long before he set down his half-finished glass of wine and rose from the couch. “So, this is goodnight, my dear.”
“Yes,” Narcissa said automatically, and her eyes traveled over to Snape. “Thank you for dinner, for everything, Severus”
Snape’s face was inscrutable as he replied, “Not at all, Mrs. Malfoy.”
Being addressed like that by Severus felt nearly insulting, yet who else could she possibly be but “Mrs. Malfoy” in the presence of Lucius? No, in the shadow of Lucius....under Lucius' thumb....
Snape stood to fetch Narcissa's cloak and bag, while Lucius made a show of kissing her farewell.
I can‘t believe this is happening, Narcissa mused as she tried to close her eyes and imagine that it was Severus that she was kissing and not her husband. As they broke apart, Narcissa forced a smile, and Lucius pulled her into an almost crushing embrace. From over Lucius’ shoulder, she locked eyes with Severus for a moment before he looked deliberately away. Narcissa mentally cursed herself--she never intended anyone to get hurt.
She couldn‘t be sure, but again it seemed that Lucius was being overly affectionate towards her. Was he simply overjoyed to be reunited with his wife again, or was it something more--something she should be worried about?
Narcissa took a hadnful of floo powder and threw it in Snape’s fire without another word. Her gaze lingered heavily on the two men before she said simply, “Good night, Lucius. Good night, Severus.”
“Pleasant dreams, my darling,” Lucius drawled, his eyes piercing her.
"Farewell," Snape said stiffly.
She stepped over the hearth without another word and called out, “Malfoy Manor!”
Narcissa was gone. The green tinged flames hadn’t even fully resumed their normal color before Lucius had drawn his wand and thrust it viciously at Snape’s throat, his eyes alight with fury and vengeance.
Snape staggered backward, falling onto the couch ungracefully, but he had suspected this to be coming: His wand was also drawn and aimed delicately at Lucius‘ heart, although Lucius was not yet aware of this.
“You,” he stated, his voice quiet but full of menace, “You who I called a friend, you who my son looked up to, you dare betray my trust and try to steal what is MINE?!”
Lucius’ voice had grown to a roar, but he raised a quizzical eyebrow and smirked as he felt Snape’s wand pressing in between his ribs. They were equally armed and well-matched; each knew that it was possible to lose - or even die - if they dueled. It was Snape that spoke first.
“Lucius,” Snape began, his voice calm and composed, “whatever are you upset about? Surely not that enchanted locket I gave your wife? I couldn't help but notice that she was not wearing it this evening, despite the fact that I asked her never to remove it.”
Mr. Malfoy got up abruptly and violently straightened his robes. In a dangerously quiet voice, he said, “You admit to this?”
“But of course, Lucius, my friend,” Snape began, his expression politely incredulous, his voice hinting at amusement. “I gave Mrs. Malfoy that locket because she seemed so distraught, and I had hoped to ease her discomfort over your absence.” Snape looked earnestly into the elder Malfoy’s eyes.
“I was merely thinking of you, my friend.” If he only knew what I thought of him....
Lucius looked comforted, if only momentarily. He picked up his wine glass and drained it; Snape took this opportunity to conjure another bottle for the two of them.
“My wife is a beautiful woman, is she not?” Lucius began, a faraway expression on his face as he spoke.
“Someone as powerful and noble-blooded as Lucius Malfoy deserves only the best,” Snape said smoothly.
Lucius smirked as he sipped his glass of wine thoughtfully.
“Yes, you’re quite right old friend,“ he drawled magisterially, “anyone would have to be a fool...to try and take her from me.” His eyes lingered on Snape’s, undoubtedly in an attempt to intimidate, but little did Lucius know that he was merely making it easier for Snape to exploit his thoughts.
“Indeed,” Snape said as he inclined his head in a bow. He raised his glass of wine in a toast.
“To the Malfoys,” Snape said silkily, and Lucius echoed him.
They smiled as they both drained their glasses. Snape was not a man to be intimidated, but Lucius was not one to be easily fooled either.