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Secretly Slytherin	By : Veresna Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 12269 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 29
- 30
- 31
Chapter 30: The Decision
Helena’s face was deathly pale, even her lips seemed to be losing every trace of color. Her eyes were glazed with tears of pain and betrayal. Her mouth opened and her lips silently mouthed a single word, "Why?"
He turned his head to the side and regarded her quizzically. "I distinctly asked you if you…" he paused and bent his head nearer to hers and whispered in her left ear, "Wanted me."
She shivered.
He moved to the other side and whispered in that ear, "Needed me."
She closed her eyes and shook her head as if she could banish the memory from her mind that way.
"Look at me."
His voice was deep and threatening.
She opened her eyes and stared up at him again. "And if you would swear your fidelity to me." He leaned down so that his lips brushed against hers. "Complete and fully."
He drew back and sat on his knees, straddling her. "And you said yes, all three times. Of your own free will."
She shook her head again, finally finding her voice. "I didn’t know what I was agreeing to," she protested.
He smiled a nasty, self-satisfied grin. "Oh, yes, you seemed rather hesitant to answer that last question, didn’t you?" He bent down and leaned over her again, cupping her face in his right hand while his left brushed away the hair from her face. "You felt the presence of some kind of Dark Magic by then, I could tell. But you were merely afraid I was using it to demand and guarantee your sexual faithfulness, weren’t you?"
She found herself nodding, unable to keep herself from answering him.
His hands moved down from her face and he lightly stroked her breasts for a few seconds. "Oh, I had already arranged that. With that little spell I performed between your legs," he added. He smiled down at her again, "And I’ll admit I was pleasantly surprised to learn that you had indeed, been faithful to me so far. Though I certainly would have been a fool to believe your protestations of innocence. Or to think that you would not have eventually betrayed me with some foolish, handsome boy when you were given the chance." He bent down, with his mouth open, intending to take her nipple into it when she suddenly raised up and tried to push him away with her hands.
He laughed, and easily caught her flailing arms by the wrist and held her hands down on either side of her head. He bent down and licked at the fresh Death Mark and she cried out again as her whole forearm reacted with the sensation of being burnt again.
"But, as delightful as your body is," he murmured, stretching out across her and rubbing his torso against hers, "that was not my only objective."
He rose up again and she found herself staring back up into his blazing black eyes. "You are an amazing girl, Helena." He allowed himself another small smile. "Or should I say a woman. Yes," he nodded, "I think your association with me has helped you leave behind the last traces of childhood, hasn’t it?"
She glared up at him, making no attempt to reply.
He kept his fingers tightly wound around her wrists. She seemed to have stopped fighting, but there was no need for him to let his guard down yet, he thought.
"Amazingly strong magical powers, an intellect of the highest caliber, and combined with those an extraordinary ability to lie and deceive," he said, his voice full of admiration. "Did you really think I would content with claiming your body?" he asked, again tilting his head to the side.
He raised up and let go of her wrists, his smile broadening as he noted that she remained absolutely still, her eyes fixed upon him in a horrified gaze as she struggled to comprehend him.
"Oh, no," he added, lightly tracing her profile with the index finger of his right hand, "I decided I wanted your soul as well."
He had barely gotten the words out of his mouth before they were followed by his own howl of pain. Helena had abruptly brought up her knee and slammed it into his balls as viciously as she could. She saw his look of shock and hate for an instant before he doubled over in pain, cupping his hands around the injured area and only barely managing to thwart her second attempt to place a well-aimed blow between his legs. He growled in pain and moved his weight off of her as she frantically clawed her way out from underneath him and over to the edge of the bed. She slipped off the side and fell with a crash to the floor.
Her immediate thought had been merely to try to get away from him. But, right in front of her were his discarded trousers from the night before and the notion occurred to her that at least one of the wands might still be in them. She allowed herself a brief glance over her shoulder and decided it looked like he would be incapacitated for enough time to allow her to look. Unfortunately, her fingers were shaking so much that it seemed to take forever for her to work them into the pockets. And by the time she had finished unsuccessfully exploring one side, she heard him moving again behind her.
Now he was right beside her, his own hand moving to grab and pull the trousers from her. She felt him tug at the other end of the garment and she allowed it to drop, cursing herself for losing valuable time. She struggled to her feet and sprinted out the door.
Once she was in the sitting room, she looked around in desperation. The few small windows of the room were located high on the wall, clearly out of reach for her physically. And, since she didn’t have her wand, there was no hope of her attempting a transfiguration, even if she could have managed to concentrate on the process in her current situation. That left her with the feeble and quite unrealistic hope that she could get through to his office and find it, for some strange, illogical reason, unlocked.
She ran to the other wall and frantically placed her palm against the paneling, taking several tries before she managed to successfully find the spot which controlled the releasing mechanism. She was rather surprised that Snape had not as yet appeared in the room. And she had half expected that the doorknob leading to his doorknob would be missing again. But, it was there and she grabbed and twisted it open and found herself stumbling into his office. She ran the few additional steps to the outer door and tried that knob. This one stayed firmly and stubbornly in place.
She cried out in exasperation and kicked at it, futilely and irrationally, as her despair overwhelmed her. She stood with her back against the wall and slumped against it, dejectedly for a moment. Then she pushed off and ran towards the heavy chair that stood against the wall. She managed to shove it in front of the area where the door opened. She knew it wouldn’t stop him, but at this point she was willing to buy any time that she could.
Then she propelled herself towards the lone window that stood behind his desk. She studied it for a few seconds, seeing no latching or opening mechanism on it. Then she turned back towards the desk, picked up his inkwell and hurled it against the pane. It bounced back, leaving a horrible mess over the wall, shelf and carpet. But without leaving as much as a dent or scratch in the heavy, ancient glass. She looked around, hoping to find something that was heavier and harder and yet light enough for her to pick up. And then she saw the door to the bathroom slide open again.
He had taken the time to get fully dressed, including his shoes. And his wand was, of course, held firmly in his right hand. That was apparent when he snorted at the chair and sent it hurtling across the room with a wave of his hand. He glanced over at her and frowned at the area behind her, where the ink was still dripping down the wall. He advanced towards her and pointed his wand at the mess, murmuring a cleaning spell.
She took advantage of his preoccupation to run past him towards the door again. This time she began pounding on it with all her might, at the same time screaming at the top of her lungs.
"Help, please, someone, anyone. Please help me!"
She heard him moving behind her, approaching her. She sank to her knees and continued screaming, in her desperation moving towards the bottom of the door in the hope that there was a small space between the jam and the door there that she could scream through.
She felt him move to stand over her, a foot on either side of her and was sure that at any moment he would strike or curse her. She moved back to her knees, preparing to try to defend herself. Instead, she heard him laugh.
"Do you really think anyone can hear you?" he asked, mockingly.
He knelt down behind her and placed his arms on either side of her head. "Are you really naïve enough to think that my sealing spells merely provide a physical barrier to intruders?" he hissed.
"I assure you," he continued, reaching out with his own hand and knocking against the thick wood of the door. "Even if someone has their ear pressed to the other side, they will not hear so much as a murmur, for all your screaming."
She closed her eyes and swallowed. "Please let me out."
He snorted. "Why? Where would you go?"
She opened her mouth, but no answer came. Other than a vague ‘away from you’, she really didn’t know where she intended to go. Or what she intended to do.
"Let’s see, the nearest students would be in the Slytherin Dormitory. And although I’m sure they would be delighted to have you visit them in your current state of undress-"
Helena looked down and shivered. In her confusion, she had completely forgotten that she was nude.
"I’m sure that at least some of them would feel compelled to escort you back to me. Once they see that mark on your arm. And realize who you belong to."
She shivered again.
"Do you really think you are the only student in this school to have earned this distinction?"
"You’ve done this to others?" Her breath was low and gasping. She should be horrified, she knew. But the only thing she was aware of was a stab of painful jealousy as the thought seared through her that he must have taken many, many other students into his bed before her.
"No, don’t worry," he murmured, his lips brushing against her hair. "You are the only one I’ve marked personally. The rest have gotten it from their own lovers. Of their family. And quite a few more will eventually earn one from Voldemort himself. In due time."
She choked down another cry.
"Now, why all this fuss?" His voice was smooth and calming, yet still taunting. "I’ve just given you something you would have earned for yourself at some point in time. After all, with a father and a lover who are Death Eaters, did you really think you wouldn’t become one eventually?"
"You can’t do this against my will," she protested.
"Oh, no, indeed not," he replied. "I was quite amazed and pleased with how willing you were to help me last night."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Hot tears had begun to flow out of her eyes and she angrily wiped them away. She almost wished he were furious or abusive to her. Instead, his calm demeanor simply seemed to reinforce her perception that he knew he now had control over her, so there was no need for force.
"Well, you see, as important as it was for you to give your verbal promise of complete fidelity to me, it was equally important that you prove it to me physically. It’s an essential part of the spell for the subject to submit herself willingly if the Dark Mark is to be successfully transferred from her lover to herself."
He moved closer to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "First you had to answer all three of my questions ‘Yes’. Then, in order to prove your total submission to me, I needed you to willingly allow me to spill my seed inside of you three times," he continued. "In three different places," he added. "Which is why I was so pleased that you asked me what I wanted while I was tied up."
She drew in her breath and gazed, unseeing, at the door in front of her as she remembered how he had thrown his head back and laughed. She had been puzzled at the time by his reaction, but had simply attributed his relief to the fact that she wasn’t hurting him. Now, she realized that she had played right into his hands. He had needed her to give him oral sex if his plan was to work. And she had happily obliged him.
"It simplified matters enormously," he cooed. "I knew you would always be happy to be take me in your cunt, but I had wondered if you would be nice enough to suck me off as well. Especially-" His hands moved down to caress the soft skin on her buttocks, "Since you had finally relented and allowed me to enter you down there."
"God, you were stubborn about that," he growled. He leaned forward and placed his arms around her. She struggled for a moment and then, realizing it was useless to resist, slumped tiredly against him. "That’s why I had all the bondage restraints there last night. I really thought I was going to have to tie you down before you’d finally let me in there."
"You said I had to do it willingly?" she gasped.
"Yes," he conceded. "But, that’s why I had brought the Sensitizing Potion. If nothing else had enticed you, I would have chained you to the bed and spread that on your cunt and refused to fuck you there until you had agreed to take me in your ass first. Sooner or later I think I could have gotten you to beg for it."
He laughed softly. "I wasn’t sure if that would count as a willing submission. But, since it was Dark Magic, it was probably close enough. At any rate, you were nice enough to finally give in on that to me, weren’t you?"
She stared ahead of her again, refusing to look at him.
"Why did you wait until this morning to do this?" she asked, jerking her chin at her arm.
"Once I had completed the third consummation, there was only a short time period during which I would be able to transfer the mark to you," he explained. "I thought it was best to do it in the morning light, when I could be absolutely sure that I had my arm properly placed on top of yours when I ejaculated."
"But, you had already fucked me last night-" she began.
"Yes, but I didn’t come in you last night, did I?" he reminded her.
She shook her head.
"I gave you some satisfaction and then pulled out and began on your other ‘aperture’. You know, that’s why I was so angry with you for tricking me."
She looked up at him, not knowing what he meant.
"I was afraid you would keep me chained up all night and make me come in you with my arms stretched up over my head," he explained. "It would have ruined the whole plan."
"It didn’t seem to take long for you to figure out how to call my own wand to you," she noted.
"Oh, that is one of the hardest things I have ever done," he replied, shaking his head. "To be able to tell, just by using my hearing, where your wand was and to keep a part of my brain concentrated on it even while you were so delightfully sucking me off was enormously difficult."
He abruptly raised himself off of the floor. "Now come along back to my rooms. We have other things to discuss."
"No!" she hissed, refusing to move.
He rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, walking back over to the hidden doorway of the bathroom. A moment he raised his wand and pointed it at his own Dark Mark, tracing the outline lightly with the tip. Instantly, the mark on her arm turned bright red and she howled in pain. She did her best to endure it, but the pain was horrendous and she found herself unable to fight any more. She struggled to get to her feet, but ended up crawling over on her hands and knees to where he was standing.
"Now, isn’t it easier to obey me the first time?" he taunted, as the pain abruptly subsided.
She made no answer, but took in a deep breath as she slowly rose to her feet.
He bowed and gestured for her to go through the door in front of him. At the other side she stood still, not sure of how the mechanism worked to open the door that led into the next room.
"Ah, yes," he commented, reaching up with his hand at the spot that was located high above his head. "I suppose I shall have to make some other arrangements for you, considering your stature. A password, perhaps?"
She ignored him and tramped on through the doorway into the next room.
She had just stepped across the threshold when she felt his fingers entwine in her hair and pull her abruptly back towards him.
"By the way," he muttered, holding her roughly by the hair and forcing her face towards him. "What you just felt is nothing compared to how ‘Cruciatus’ feels. And if you ever attack me again like you did this morning, I assure you that you will find out exactly what that feels like."
"Although," he continued, pulling her even closer, "What you just experienced is rather close to the sensation you and any potential lover will feel if ever do try to have sex with someone else now that I have ‘sealed you’. Except, of course, that it will be in a much more sensitive and vulnerable area."
"Oh, yes," he continued, smiling down at her as her eyes blinked. "That little spell I performed with my wand between your legs was only partly to check if you had been with someone else. It also ensured that you will not be unfaithful to me."
He grinned. "Even someone who’s into sadomasochism would not be able to tolerate the intense pain that will accompany any form of penetration should you be foolish enough to attempt intercourse with anyone else."
"You bastard!" she screamed.
Snape released his hold and laughed, walking further on into the room. "Oh, come now. I would think you, of all people, would be hesitant to use that term. You’re the bastard after all, aren’t you?"
He bent down and picked up the wine bottle from the floor, turning it in his hands and looking back towards her. "By the way, did you enjoy the wine last night?"
She stared at him, wondering what else he had done. "What was in it? Veritaserum?" It did seem, in retrospect, that she had answered more of his questions than she had wanted.
"No." He reached down for one of the glasses and poured some of the wine into it. He walked over to her and raised it up so that the sunlight streaming down from the windows glinted through it. It was a red wine, but the color was somehow vibrant rather than dark.
She turned pale and felt an acrid sensation arising in her throat. "It has blood in it, doesn’t it?" she asked.
"Oh, not just any blood," he assured her. "Muggle blood," he whispered, bending down close to her ear. "Taken at just the proper point during the process of torturing them to death. Too late or too soon and it’s worthless."
She closed her eyes but was unable to completely drive away the images and sounds his words had conjured up. "Why did I have to drink it?" she asked.
"Another example of my being nice to you," he said.
She swallowed down her retort, feeling too tired to try and argue with him. She was hoping that if she started to pretend she had completely acquiesced that there was still a chance she could get away from him somehow.
"It made your blood and skin much more receptive to the transfer this morning. It could have taken much longer and been much more painful than it was."
"Thank you," she replied, her voice devoid of emotion. "I suppose," she shook her head and swallowed, "That’s why I had to wear the blindfold last night?"
"You ARE my clever little girl, aren’t you?"
She again bit back her retort.
"That," he admitted. "Plus the simple fact that it was disorientating and rather dehumanizing for you to wear it. Rather strengthened my position in getting you to talk, didn’t it?"
He turned and strode towards the sofa, setting the wine bottle down on the table to the side. "Sit down," he ordered, moving off to walk into the bedroom.
She sat down, raising her feet up underneath her and hugging her arms around her again for warmth. She stared back up at the windows, and briefly tried to summon the energy to transfigure herself. But, she felt only a deep emptiness and weariness.
He returned with the robe draped over his arm. He tossed it over to her and she stood up to put it on. A moment later she felt something fall done at her feet and she looked down to see her wand lying on the ground. She looked up at him with her eyebrows raised.
"Please do not be foolish enough to attempt anything with that," he advised her, as he seated himself. "Or I will be forced to punish you."
For a brief moment, the stinging, burning sensation returned to her arm. She stared at him. This time, he hadn’t even moved in order to accomplish the stimulation of the aggrieved nerve endings.
She nodded and bent down to pick it up. She placed it in her pocket. She didn’t feel up to trying anything at the moment. But, it was vaguely reassuring to know that it was there.
"Sit down," he ordered.
"At your feet like a good little dog?" she muttered, crossing her arms in front of her.
He smiled. "Well, you are definitely a bitch sometimes, but….." He patted the area next to him. "No, beside me. Like the good little mistress that you are."
She sat down, rigidly, beside him. She stiffened further as he ran his hand up and down her back.
"You know, you truly should be grateful to me. Do you know what your father had planned for you?"
She shook her head no, again refusing to look at him.
"He was going to use you as a whore," he said, calmly.
She jerked around and looked at him in shock.
"Oh, yes," he assured her. "That’s the reason he’s so anxious to set you up in an apartment with London. You were to seduce a number of government officials, beginning with Fergus Breverton. Using your body and your wits to gather secrets for our Lord. Fucking whoever Voldemort told you to fuck."
"You’re lying."
He snorted. "Oh, come now. You certainly knew that the only reason Malfoy was ever going to take an interest in you was because he had found a way to use you."
He bent nearer to her. She tried to move away, but he put his hand around her arm and pulled her closer.
"Although I do admit I think he might have some other ideas." His voice was soft and speculative. He brought his lips next to her ears. "In fact, I think ‘Daddy’ definitely wants to fuck you, too," he whispered.
She screwed up her face in disgust and cried out again, trying desperately to break away from him. But she had only succeeded in rising to her feet before he grasped her wrist and drew aside the sleeve on her right arm, running his fingers across the fresh, ugly Mark once again.
"You should be very grateful to me for what I’ve done," he repeated. "You were chosen, personally, by Voldemort, to join his service." He jerked her down so that she was on her knees in front of him. "Do you seriously think that one is allowed to decline the invitation?"
"I can’t be forced to join the Dark Side," she objected. "Even with this THING on my arm," she declared.
He looked down at her and laughed. "No. But you can be killed. Or tortured. Or put under ‘Imperio’. At any rate, you would either comply willingly or you would be ‘persuaded’ by other means. And if not….." He shrugged. "You would end up dead or hopelessly insane. And would serve as a warning to others."
He cocked his head. "Do you want to spend the rest of your days at St. Mungo’s? I doubt that they would trust you with oil paints and brushes. But perhaps you would be allowed to finger-paint with your own excrement," he added, maliciously.
"And," he continued, brushing his fingertips against her arm again, "this THING is protecting you. You can hardly be expected to hop in and out of bed with members of the government with this mark permanently burnt unto you."
She finally managed to wrench her arm away.
"And unless you were interested in pursuing an incestuous relationship with Lucius, I suggest you be very happy that I’ve provided a ‘chastity belt’ for you."
She hugged her arms around herself and stepped back from him. She stared down at the ground for a moment and blinked several times. She jerked her head back up and stared around the room, as if she were seeing it for the first time. And then she slowly walked back to the couch and knelt down in front of him.
"Severus, do you care for me?" she asked quietly.
He stared down at her for a long moment. "Yes," he replied. "Otherwise, I would not have done this."
A strange calmness had fallen upon her features, and her eyes were very thoughtful.
"I could think of no other way to protect you," he finished.
"If you’re telling the truth," she began. She hesitated for a moment, considering how to phrase what she had to say. "I don’t think that either Malfoy or Voldemort is going to be happy with what you’ve done."
His eyes became suddenly hooded and evasive. "No," he admitted, finally raising his eyes up again to meet her gaze.
"Although," he continued, taking in a breath. "I plan on arguing that I was specifically asked to make sure that you joined Voldemort’s service. That you would become his. And I have done that. But I also, in a fit of jealousy, made sure that you would also be mine."
She nodded.
"I have no other way to protect you," he said again.
"Perhaps not," she replied. "Unless-"
He raised his eyebrows and waited.
Her hand went to her pocket and she drew out her wand. His eyes narrowed and his hand went to his own pocket.
She placed the wand across his legs.
"Kill me," she said.
He snorted. "Don’t be melodramatic."
"If you care anything about me, kill me," she repeated. She closed her eyes. "I don’t want to be a Death Eater. I hate everything they stand for. I hate their cruelty and their barbarity and their inhumanity."
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "And I wish I could hate you. Part me does. But, part of me knows that I’ll probably end up doing whatever you want. Maybe because you force me to. Maybe because I’m afraid of losing you."
She looked above his head at the wall beyond him. "I think I’ve spent most of my life lying to someone and myself about something or other. I’ve always tried to make someone feel better, or like me more by pretending to be whatever it is they wanted. The perfect daughter. The perfect grandaughter. The perfect Ravenclaw. The perfect Arithmancy tutor. The perfect Mediwitch student."
She looked back at him. "Within a few months, I’ll probably be the perfect little Death Eater."
She swallowed. "But the person I am now hates everything that I would become. Please save me from that. Please?"
He stared down at her for a long time. He picked up her wand and held it so that the tip was pointing squarely between her eyes.
"Avada-"
She gulped and shut her eyes but did not move.
"Kedavra".
Even with her eyes closed, she saw the flash of green light.
But she didn’t feel anything. In fact, she still felt….alive.
Thoroughly confused, she opened her eyes again. Her wand was still in his hands, but the tip was pointing just over her head.
A moment latter, there was a clattering sound as he dropped her wand unto the floor. His black eyes bored into hers for several seconds, and then he abruptly rose and walked over to the fireplace.
He opened a small, intricately carved wooden box that stood upon it. He reached in and a moment later had tossed some powder unto the dying flames of the fire. Immediately, they turned back into a roaring blaze.
"Albus!" he called.
A few moments later, Helena saw the face of the Headmaster appear in the midst of the flames. Instead of his usual Wizard’s Hat, he appeared to be wearing an old-fashioned nightcap.
"Yes, Severus?" he replied, calmly and cheerfully.
"I know it’s early, but could you step into my rooms for a moment?"
"Of course."
A few seconds later, the figure of the Headmaster, dressed in a nightshirt and robe, stepped out of the fireplace.
"What-" he began. But before he could say anything further, Snape had nodded in Helena’s direction.
She hurriedly arose to her feet, her fingers adjusting the robe to ensure that she was covered as much as possible.
"Ah, Miss Harrison."
If Dumbledore were surprised to see her standing in the middle of Snape’s private rooms, wearing only his robe, he was managing to conceal it very well.
"Well," he began, adjusting the nightcap on his head and tightening the belt on his own robe. "I dare say that both of you have a lot of explaining to do." He sat down upon the couch and fished in the pocket of his robe for a moment, bringing out a small box that popped open when he laid it open his palm. "Lemon drop, anyone?"
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Secretly Slytherin