A Song for Severus ~ (Not Update, but Edit)

Chapter 22 ~ A Gift and Some Noticeable Changes

“Thank you for shopping at the Music Symposium,” Malina said cheerily to the frowning young wizard exiting the store. She slumped when he exited, then stalked around the counter.

“Damn. Some people act as if I press the damn albums myself,” she groused, walking back down the aisle and straightening all the albums she had to dig through before the customer accepted the fact she didn’t have the album “Dark Lording” by the Warlocks.

As she worked, Malina heard the tinkle of the bell that announced another potential customer had entered the store. She quickly walked back to the counter and looked about, but didn’t see or hear anyone. She walked to the head of each of the four aisles, looking down them to see where the customer went. She frowned slightly when she didn’t see anyone.

The bell was charmed and wouldn’t have rung if someone simply opened the door and didn’t enter. Someone was on the premises.

Malina was here alone today. Clarissa, the blonde who had taken a liking to Draco was supposed to have been in…but claimed to have a very bad case of cramps that even magic couldn’t seem to help. Malina knew she was bailing, but it didn’t bother her. Clarissa did so little work anyway when Malina was there, it was like being by herself anyway.

Malina pulled out her wand from her back pocket, her black eyes shifting about.

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” she called out.

There was no response.

“All right. I tried it the nice way,” the witch said to herself.

Suddenly she flashed her wand forward.

“Accio intruder!” Malina cried, taking a defense stance ready to hex if she didn’t like the looks of whoever appeared.

There was a sudden shout, the noise of items falling, then Draco Malfoy came zooming up the center aisle two feet off the floor, his arms wheeling and robes fluttering wildly around him. Malina leaped out of the way and he crashed into the front counter and fell into a painful little pile. Dazed, he looked up at her.

Malina scowled down at him.

“Draco, why didn’t you answer me?” she demanded as the wizard slowly picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his head.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he replied, touching the top of his skull. It hurt like hell.

Malina smirked.

“Well, you managed to do that all right,” Malina said, walking back around the counter without offering Draco any comfort at all.

As far as she was concerned, it served the pureblood right. Draco was forever creeping up on her. Sometimes he gave her the creeping fugwugs.

Draco straightened his robes and tried to recover the shreds of his dignity as Malina set about opening a box of new albums that arrived that morning.

”So,” he said, “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Overjoyed,” Malina said sarcastically as she pulled out a stack of albums and put them in a little cart.

The witch wheeled the cart around the counter and started up the first aisle, Draco following her, his gray eyes resting on her hips appreciatively. He liked the fact Malina never fawned all over him. Despite their being lovers, she made him work for every bit of affection she showed him. He liked working past her aloofness.

Malina stopped, picked up an album and slid it into a display. Draco took advantage of her back being turned to him to ease up, wrap his arms around her slender waist and kiss the side of her throat.

”Draco! Stop that,” she said, turning on him and taking his arms from around her waist. Draco grinned at her naughtily.

”The other night, you were saying ‘Don’t stop, Draco,’ he teased her, his eyes hot.

Malina frowned at him though she felt a little pulse of heat for the wizard.

“That was the other night. Not now,” she snapped at him, pushing the cart up the aisle a little before stopping again. “Now, I’m trying to work. Don’t you have something to go oversee?”

”No. Just you,” Draco responded.

Malina stopped at the end of the aisle and scowled as she saw a huge display of albums all over the floor. She whirled on Draco.

“I suppose you were hiding behind that display when I accio’d you,” she said to him.

Draco shrugged, looking at the mess. Malina sighed, pulled out her wand and fixed the display, the albums restacking themselves tier after tier in a conical shape.

”Next time you come to see me Draco, please just come up to the counter like a normal person,” she said to him, her eyes narrowed.

“What’s the fun in that?’ he asked.

“You consider flying headfirst into a checkout counter fun?” Malina asked him, an arched eyebrow arched even higher. “You need therapy, Draco. Lots and lots of therapy.”

”What’s therapy?” Draco asked, unfamiliar with the muggle term.

Malina sighed.

“Nothing,” she responded, moving on with the cart, the handsome wizard following her. Draco put his hand in his pocket, then drew something out.

“Um Malina…I have something for you,” Draco said.

Malina stopped the cart and eyed him. Normally when Draco said he had something for her, he meant a hard-on. Plus, he was forever trying to get her to let him fuck her in the record shop.

“It would be exciting,” he’d claim.

But Malina didn’t think so.

“Draco…: she said warningly, putting her hands on her hips.

“No,” Draco said smirking a bit, “Not that, Malina…this.”

He pulled a small box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside was a beautiful ring…obviously a man’s ring from the look of it. It was exquisite. A thick platinum band with set with a beautiful emerald. Set in the emerald was the bloom of a tiny, perfect rose. A thin platinum chain ran through it.

“That’s pretty Draco,” Malina said, looking at the ring and trying not to seem too impressed, although she was. “But that’s a man’s ring.”

”It’s my ring,” he said softly, drawing it out of the box, “But it’s on your necklace. I want you to wear it, Malina. I want you to carry something of mine with you.”

It was the ring Draco had Rosier make for him.

“I had it designed with you, my rose, in mind,” the wizard said, “Your bloom will never fade in my heart, Malina. Take it. Please.”

Malina’s dark eyes met Draco’s and she saw the sincerity in them. She turned her back to him.

“Put it on me,” she said.

Smiling, Draco unclasped the necklace, reached around Malina and put it on her. Malina turned back around and looked down at it a moment, before tucking it under her shirt. Then she looked at Draco.

”Thank you,” she said, kissing him lightly on the lips. Draco’s gray eyes flashed at her.

”Dinner tonight at the manor?” he asked, “We’re having fish and chips.”

Malina loved fish and chips. Though Draco could serve her anything she imagined she wanted, the basics always worked for her. She studied the wizard. It was clear fish and chips weren’t the only thing on his mind. Malina smiled.

“How can I resist?” she replied. “I’ll be there at seven.”

Draco gave her a big smile and kissed her again, this time Malina allowing him to slip her a little tongue, but just a little. She drew away, leaving him hungry.

”You’re a tease,” he growled at her.

”You love it,” she said, turning to her cart again and rolling it into the next aisle.

”That’s not all I love,” Draco responded.

Malina looked back at him and blushed as the wizard looked at her soberly. Draco intended to keep Malina at all costs.

”Until later, my rose,” Draco said with a bow, then strode up the aisle and exited the store. Malina watched him go, then sighed.

Whatever was she to do with Draco? She pulled out the ring and looked at it. It really was lovely and it made her feel connected to the blonde wizard. She tucked it back into her shirt and finished putting the album away.

Draco smiled darkly as he walked to the public apparition point. She had accepted his ring. Excellent. The piece of jewelry had a little extra something placed on it, something that would be quite useful to him. An undetectable tracking charm. The latest thing created for Aurors for use in tracking suspected criminals. Draco had paid quite a pretty galleon to get the spell. Malina would kill him if she found out. But she’d never find out.

Slytherin house had struck again.

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Eloise Hedgeberry stared at the pentacle in the palm of her hand. She hadn’t even noticed it until a young customer who she was handing change to remarked on it.

”Cool,” the young man said, eyeing the circle enclosed star, “That a tattoo? Never seen one in someone’s palm before.”

Eloise stared at the image. It was actually made up of the fine lines in her hand, and looked as if it had always been there.

“What the fuck is going on?” she muttered to herself.

She dropped in on her doctor the next day on her lunch after her bout of amnesia. She called ahead and the doctor agreed to see her. He checked her out thoroughly.

“I can’t find anything wrong except for a rather accelerated heartbeat, Miss Hedgeberry,” the doctor said, looking at her thoughtfully. “But that could be the result of stress related to your incident. Basically, you appear to be in perfect health. All I can tell you is that you may want to check yourself into the hospital for a thorough exam.”

Eloise really didn't want to go to the hospital. She hated it. It was hard enough to go to the doctor. Plus, she'd miss work. Even missing a single day meant more hardship. But the doctor said she was in good health. She'd accept that. If anything was physically wrong, he would have found something. At least, that's what she told herself as she thanked the doctor and left. She told him nothing about the pentacle.

That evening when she showered, Eloise noticed quite a bit of hair on her legs. It looked thicker than it normally was. She frowned.

“Damn it. I just shaved,” she complained, picking up her razor and lotion.

That night, she had trouble sleeping. It seemed as if she heard everything in the apartment building. The conversations of neighbors, people walking about, every creak of the old building she occupied…even the fucking bugs in the walls. Eloise wrapped her pillow around her head and finally fell asleep. The next morning, she found her legs covered in stubble.

”Shit,” she said, applying the razor again.

Later that day, two young boys walked into the sweet shop. They couldn’t have been more than ten years old. They wandered around the shop for a bit, then came to the counter, each with a peppermint stick. As Eloise took their money, she looked at the first boy with narrowed eyes. The boy blanched guilty.

Eloise held her hand out.

”Give it here, now,” she said firmly.

Slowly, the boy pulled a box of chocolates out of his jacket pocket. Eloise had smelled it on him, even though the box was sealed.

”Get along,” she said to both boys, who bolted from the shop.

“She must have seen you nick it,” one boy said to his friend as they both slowed down.

”No…there’s no way. She was behind the counter,” the other said, opening his peppermint stick, “and did you see her hand? There was a star in it. She’s a witch I bet.”

His friend laughed.

”There’s no such thing as witches,” he declared, popping his peppermint stick in his mouth. “That’s all fairy tales.”

”I don’t know,” the boy said, “There’s something weird about her. I’m going to Kerryman’s candy shop from now on, the one over on Surrey. A bloke could nick the shelves clean and no one would say a word.”

Eloise put the candy back in the proper place, wondering how she smelled it on the youngster. Things were getting crazy. First the amnesia, then a pentacle appearing on her hand, her leg hair growing so fast she could practically see it sprout and now this.

Something very eerie and strange was going on and she didn’t know what to do about it.

That evening while riding the tube, a man sitting next to Eloise was peeling an apple with a pocket knife.

“Fuck!” the man cursed as he accidentally cut his thumb.

Eloise immediately stiffened, her eyes sliding to the man’s hand and focusing on the drops of blood running down it. It smelled delicious, sweet. Her mouth began to water as she stared at it. Suddenly the hand disappeared under a piece of napkin and she snapped out of her spell. The man looked at her.

”Sorry ‘bout that, Miss. I know for some people the sight of blood just make them seize up,” he said smiling at her, then biting into the apple.

Eloise tried to compose herself. She had been attracted to the man’s blood, not repelled by it. It was like she wanted to lick it off his flesh. Was she developing some kind of blood fetish? She shuddered and wished the train would hurry up.

When Eloise left the station, she walked past a butcher shop and was compelled to stop and go in. She looked at the cuts of meat on display. Damn, they were pricey. There was a thick bloody steak resting on white wax paper. Eloise pressed her face against the glass like a child at a sweet shop. The butcher looked over at her. He had been cutting some meat and put down his cleaver, wiping his hands on his apron before walking over.

“Nice cut of meat, that,” he said to Eloise, who popped up suddenly.

“Yes, it is,” she said, looking a bit embarrassed.

”Should I wrap it up for you?” the butcher inquired, looking at her a bit strangely. Her eyes didn’t seem quite right.

Eloise looked at the price and shook her head slowly.

”No. It’s too much. I can’t afford that,” she said.

The butcher studied her.

“I tell you what…I’ll give it to you for half price,” he offered.

Eloise looked at the cut again. Even at half price it was expensive…but…

”All right,” Eloise said, fishing into her pocket for some notes.

The butcher removed the steak from the display case and wrapped it up in brown paper and handed it to her, taking the notes.

”Now, don’t overcook that,” he said to Eloise, “You want a nice piece like that a little on the rare side for the best flavor.”

”Thank you,” Eloise said, exiting the shop.

When Eloise got home, she went straight to the kitchen and set a pan on the stove. She unwrapped the steak and seasoned it with salt and pepper as she waited for the pan to heat up. As she waited, she stared at the steak, the rich, red meat seeming to undulate before her eyes. She could see little rivulets of blood between the moist meaty tissues, glistening redly, the scent of it filling her nostrils. Again, her mouth started to water.

Eloise opened her utensil drawer and took out a sharp knife. She cut a small sliver of the raw meat off, picked it up between her thumb and forefinger, sniffing it. She almost drooled on herself.

“What’s wrong with me?” she thought as she placed the sliver of meat on her tongue.

It was cold, but as she chewed it, a look of pure bliss crossed her face. The flesh was so tender and delicious, the blood so tasty though she would have preferred it warm. Eloise looked down at the steak, then slowly cut off the flame beneath the frying pan. She reached into the upper cabinet and retrieved a plate, then grabbed a fork from the utensil drawer. She transferred the raw steak to the plate, leaving the brown wrapper on the counter as she walked to the kitchen table.

She put the plate down, drew out the chair and sat down in front of the plate, her eyes narrowed.

Eloise knew this was absolutely barbaric and disgusting…eating raw meat. She thought about the possibility of her getting sick, but the smell of the steak was mesmerizing, and holding it securely with her fork, she sliced through it, popping a thin slice into her mouth and chewing with an expression of indescribable pleasure on her face.

Disgusting or not…that steak was good.

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A/N: Screaming grandbaby! Ack! No notes right now, except to say go check out the Sahara page. I prettied it up.. ****