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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
- 34
- 35
- 36
Chapter 35: The Death Eater Meeting
It was in early December when the sign both she and Severus had been dreading for so long finally appeared. It was a Saturday night, and she was sitting in the Ravenclaw common room, diligently working with some of her Arithmancy students as the rest of the students studied or chatted quietly.
Kathleen had her nose buried in her Transfiguration book, while Lewis was sitting beside her, his forehead wrinkled in a frown as he concentrated on the charms he was casting on the objects sitting on the table before him. Although they had mutually decided to "cool things down" for awhile, it did seem to Helena that they were spending more and more time in each others company again. She hated to admit it, but there was still the slightest twinge of jealousy in her heart whenever she regarded Lewis sitting so close to her. It was completely selfish and irrational, of course. For she would never seriously consider him as a lover or a boyfriend again.
She smiled slightly to herself as she remembered that Severus had questioned her on that very subject last night as she lay in his arms. He had stuck to his stubborn rule that, even with Dumbledore’s acceptance of their relationship, they dare not meet more than once a week. But, they had changed "their" night to Friday night. And he now allowed her, more often than not, to spend the entire night and not leave until midmorning on Saturday. Her fellow students were so happy to get their school week over and to look forward to the blessed prospect of two nights away from Professors and books that no one seemed to pay much attention to the fact that Helena always spent Friday night away from the Ravenclaw dormitory. Not that she was the only student to spend the night in a bed other than her own, of course. As a matter of fact, it was a rare Friday or Saturday night when Ang was actually in their room anymore. She was afraid poor Lewis was spending a good many of his nights on the couch. Which was a shame-she really wouldn’t have minded if the poor man used her bed occasionally.
When she had said this, she had felt Severus’ body immediately stiffen underneath her, and the hand that had been stroking through her long, dark hair had suddenly stilled. She had given a half groan and a sigh before raising up to stare into his dark eyes.
"Oh, come now, Severus, you really can’t be jealous of him anymore, can you?" There was more than a hint of irritation in her tone.
He had given her his typical stony and sardonic glance, that dreaded right eyebrow raising up to highest angle. "Do you deny that for a long time you found him a very attractive young man?" he had retorted.
She had sighed again and laid her head down upon his smooth, strong chest. "No, and I also don’t deny that part of my wanted to kill him when I found out he had been Malfoy’s spy all those years."
"Hmm," she felt his chest rumble with that low, disgruntled reply.
"But," she continued, moving so that her body was firmly pressed against his, "I assure you that I will never be romantically interested in him again."
"Not even for revenge?" This time she felt rather than saw that eyebrow go up.
She contented herself with merely raising her head this time. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Do you really expect me to believe that you didn’t at least consider seducing the hapless Mr. Thurston just so that you could see the look on his face when he encountered that ‘sealing spell’ that still resides between your legs?"
She smiled up at him wickedly. "Oh, of course I did," she admitted.
"I thought so," he replied, pushing her away and arising from the bed.
"Oh, now what?" she asked, thoroughly irritated at his attitude. For all that he hated her lying to him, he sure as hell didn’t seem to want to hear her tell him the truth, even when he asked for it.
"I have papers to grade," he muttered, searching down on the floor for his clothes.
"Oh, yes, papers that simply must be graded before the stroke of midnight and couldn’t possibly wait for the rest of the weekend?"
He made no reply, just stood up and began to pull his trousers up.
"Severus, please-"
He hesitated for a moment, and then turned halfway back towards the bed.
She threw aside the covers and patted the sheet beside her. "Come back to bed. Please."
He hesitated again.
She held both arms up towards him. "Please," she repeated.
With one smooth, graceful motion, he managed to allow his pants to slide off again and fell across the bed, reaching out to her and embracing her as she murmured a spell that drew the covers up over the both of them.
They kissed for several minutes before she broke away and dared to ask, as her finger traced the angular lines of his cheekbone and jaw, "Why are you so jealous?" She clucked her tongue and kissed him again. "You know I was an eighteen year old virgin when I came to you. I’ve hardly spent my life sneaking into the bed of every man I encounter."
He stared down at her, and once again a grimace flew across his face. "Well, I’m hardly the handsomest wizard in the world," he muttered.
"Hmm," she replied, lying back and using both hands to brush his hair away from his face and study him for a moment. "But you are definitely the sexiest," she murmured.
He laughed shortly, and did not look convinced. "And I am twenty-five years your senior," he added.
She looked up at him and shrugged. "And, just what exactly can either of us do about that?" she teased.
His face grew even more serious. "Isn’t that part of the reason you sought me out?"
Now it was Helena’s hands that abruptly stopped their motion as she stared up at him. "What in the world are you talking about?"
He drew away from her and raised himself up to a seated position. "You’ve always admitted that Herbert Harrison was a sexually promiscuous buffoon, hardly someone to whom you could look up to. And you found out that your ‘real’ father was a cold, uncaring and evil man who supplied merely monetary support to your mother after leaving her pregnant. Hasn’t part of you always felt that you didn’t really have a father at all?"
She blinked a few times, trying to make sure she understood what he was getting it. "Are you saying," she began slowly, "that you think I wanted you as a lover because I was looking for a ‘substitute father’?"
He nodded.
"Oh, dear Merlin," she said, shaking her head back and forth and trying desperately not to laugh. "Oh, Severus," she added, reaching out to him again as turned away from her again.
"Severus!" She was up on her knees now, hugging him from the back with her arms thrown around his neck and chest. "I have thought of you in many ways-and with many different emotions. But I swear to you I have never, ever thought of you as a father figure," she assured him.
He reluctantly allowed her to pull him back down on the bed. "Are you sure?" he asked.
"Absolutely," she assured him.
They kissed again for several minutes before he raised himself up and looked down at her again.
"If I ever take another lover," she said, staring up into his eyes, "It will be because you’ve finally got tired of me and tossed me aside. Or-"
His eyes remained wide open and fixed upon her face as he waited for her to finish.
"It will be because you’ve pissed me off enough with all your insane and groundless jealousy that I decide to teach you a lesson."
His mouth quirked into a half-smile. "Now that sounds like a rare bit of truth out of that lying mouth of yours," he replied, leaning forward to kiss her again.
She contented herself with moaning softly as she accepted his tongue into her mouth. Just as well she didn’t also blurt out that if she wanted to have a lover/father, Mr. Lucius Malfoy still seemed more than happy to oblige.
She had gone to Gringott’s a few weeks after her meeting with Malfoy, half-expecting that he had arranged to have her account closed or the money within it reduced. But, the amount was not only as large as it had been previously, a small amount of interest that had been added to it. Additionally, a few days later an owl had delivered a small packet to her, with two sets of keys. The note accompanying it identified the keys as belonging to her new apartment, with an added comment that he was sure she knew of someone who would be interested in keeping track of the duplicate pair. So, it seemed that he was still prepared to pay for her education and housing and supply her with enough additional money to satisfy any whims she had regarding clothing and incidentals. She had wondered if she shouldn’t refuse the offer, or at least make an effort to tell Malfoy that his assistance wasn’t needed.
In the end, however, both Dumbledore and Severus had reluctantly argued that it was essential to make it appear as much as possible as if she (and, by inference Severus) were prepared to cooperate fully with Malfoy. The more that Malfoy felt she was indebted to him, the more likely it was that he was going to assume she would be willing to do anything that he asked of her. And the less likely he was to guess at the dangerous game that she intended to play.
Helena’s thoughts were abruptly drawn away from this line of thought by a dull, burning sensation on her right forearm that suddenly intensified to the point of excruciating pain. She found herself gasping for breath, and the group of students around her cast anxious glances as they watched her hands clench into tight fists as she forced herself not to grab at the pulsating spot with her opposite hand.
"Sorry," she exclaimed, rising to her feet and allowing the open Arithmancy book that had been balanced across her knees to crash to the floor. "I have to go get something."
This only increased the number of perplexed looks aimed at her.
She struggled and managed a weak smile. "Oh, I’m still having some aches and pains from my fall down the staircase," she said. "Madam Pomfrey said I should come and see her immediately if my ankle started to throb again." She affected a small hobble as made her way towards the door. She could see Lewis’ eyebrows raise in alarm as he realized she was leaving, and he had already gotten to his feet before she glared at him and shook her head to indicate she did NOT want him to accompany her. After a short hesitation, he sat down again.
She sighed again as she closed the door to the common room behind her. He was still feeling guilty about spying on her all these years, but Dumbledore had persuaded him also that it was essential for him to continue to do whatever Malfoy asked of him. But Lucius had sent him a stinging letter, indicating that, due to his ineptitude, it appeared Snape had deduced that he was in his employ, and that therefore his services were no longer needed. A generous amount of money had accompanied that note, with the inference that it was the last to be expected from him. At least it seemed that Malfoy had no reason to suspect Lewis had actually been helping them. Still, it was probably just as well that they not have any further contact.
She hurried down the hallway, unable now to keep her left hand from stroking at the burning flesh upon her right forearm. It was fiercely painful, to the point where she was sure there must be blood running out of the injured skin. Instead she found, as she dared to pull the sleeve up and take a quick look, the symbol of the skull with the snake sticking out of its mouth seemed to be outlined in silver rather than red.
After a few more minutes, she found herself in front of the gargoyle that stood guard in front of the entrance to Dumbledore’s office. She took a deep breath and shouted out: "Toadstool Toffee". The gargoyle sprang to life, leaping away to the side and allowing her step onto the staircase that was rising rapidly upward.
A few moments later, she was knocking frantically upon his door, and had barely waited for his murmured, "Come in" before pushing the door open. As she hurried into the room, she saw Severus come tumbling out of the fireplace and Dumbledore standing in the corner of the room, absent-mindedly stroking his pet phoenix, Fawkes.
Wordlessly, she held out her forearm for the men to see. Dumbledore nodded sadly and turned to look at Severus.
"I’ll assume the summons is directed at you, Severus?" he asked
Snape nodded. "Yes, Headmaster," he replied, pulling up the sleeve of his own robe. His own mark was outlined in dark black, standing lividly against the pale skin of his arm. "Helena’s mark is burning merely as a side-effect of my being called. She is not being summoned directly."
"So, she need not go," concluded Dumbledore. "The pain and burning will stop as soon as Professor Snape apparates to where he is called," he added, glancing at Helena.
Helena shrugged. "We’ve waited months for this already. There’s no telling when he’ll call Severus again. And I certainly prefer to be with Severus the first time I am in Voldemort’s presence."
Both Snape and Helena gave a quick gasp as the marks on their respective arms suddenly blazed forth with even greater brilliance.
"Besides," she continued, when she was able to speak again. "We have no idea if he’s already met with Malfoy. It’s best that Snape appear with me before Lucius has chance to tell his version of the story."
Dumbledore nodded again. His eyes were thoughtful and sad. "I can only repeat," he said, turning back for a moment to gently rub Fawkes’ beak, "that the two of you will be on your own. Should Voldemort not be convinced of your loyalty, I am sure you will be tortured and killed."
"I am afraid," he continued, turning back towards them, "that I have had to endure this parting countless times. Never sure that I will see Severus again."
He took a step towards Helena, his hands tightly clasped in front of him. "I hope that I will see both of you, alive and well, later this evening."
Helena took in another deep breath and walked over to Severus. He opened his arms and embraced her tightly.
"I have to admit," he said, "I’m not absolutely sure that this will work. When apparating to Voldemort’s side, one is never sure where you are heading to," he warned.
Helena allowed a small laugh to escape from her lips. "Well, to tell you the truth," she said, turning so that she was facing him and putting her arms around him underneath his warm cloak, "I splinched myself awfully the first two times I tried to apparate. I’m pretty good at putting myself back together in case you miss."
Snape nodded and took in a deep breath, moving to place his white Death Eater mask over his face. Before he had a chance to do so, Helena had raised up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on his cheek. Then she embraced him even more tightly. He wordlessly secured the mask in place, and then he closed his eyes and concentrated on the spell that would deliver them into the nothingness vapor that would transport them.
Dumbledore watched as a white-gray mist suddenly appeared around the couple. For a few seconds, the fog swirled round and round in an ever-faster fashion, and then it suddenly appeared to stand still, and the figures of Snape and Helena began to twirl around so fast they were soon nothing more than an indistinct blur of black. A moment later, both they and the fog had disappeared.
Dumbledore sighed and moved to take a seat in the chair behind his desk. With a wave of his hand, a full pot of tea and a cup appeared before him. He pursed his lips and poured out a large cup, using another wave of his hand to fill it to the brim with milk and sugar. He carefully lifted up the cup to his lips. He was sure it was going to be a long night.
***********
It was a very strange feeling, thought Helena, to allow someone else to Disapparate and Apparate you. Especially because it really wasn’t Snape controlling the process either. For, if you were purposefully apparating, you had to concentrate on the place that you wanted to end up in. And she knew he had no idea where he was going. In fact, he had confided, Voldemort had never called his followers together in a place where they had met previously. So, she mused, this was rather like stepping off the edge of what appeared to be a steep cliff and hoping that you were only going to fall a foot or two before an unexpected piece of ground came up to meet you.
The unhappy thought occurred to her, as she dared lift her eyes and look at the mist swirling around them, that Voldemort might have easily disposed of more than one of traitorous followers by this means. Who knew if you were actually going to a meeting, or if he was simply planning on depositing you into an active volcano or to suck you down a whirlpool.
A moment later, with a bit of a thump that would have caused her to stumble and fall had Snape’s arms not kept her upright, she found that they were standing in the middle of the field. Most of the land around them was covered in a deep blanket of snow, but an area of about 50 feet square had been cleared, revealing a patch of barren, frozen earth beneath them. In the very center of this circle stood a large fire, but the flames that were licking at the large logs were an unearthly blue, rather than red in color.
Other Death Eaters were already present, and a few turned their heads in their direction as they began to make their way closer to the middle of the circle. More than one appeared quite curious as to who the newcomer was, and Helena was suddenly aware of the fact that she was the only one not wearing a white mask. She wondered if Snape’s height and distinctive, gliding walk was allowing the others to guess at who was behind his mask. But before she had a chance to glance around the crowd and to try to see if Malfoy was in attendance, the whole group suddenly moved backwards, towards the edge of the circle. A moment later, a thin, pale figure suddenly appeared in the midst of the flames. Although there was a hood over his head, she caught a glimpse of glowing, slit-like red eyes for an instant before dropping her eyes instinctively to the ground.
The next thing she knew, Snape was pulling her forcefully and painfully by the arm, and she realized that everyone else had dropped to their knees. No, she amended, even further. They were all on their bellies, their arms stretched up over their heads in obeisance as Voldemort began to slither around through the circle. Snape’s hand rose up to her neck, and she felt him push her face down into the cold, hard ground as she raised her own arms above her head. So she had to depend upon her hearing to tell when Voldemort was approaching them.
She heard Voldemort’s voice hiss out and greet some of the Death Eaters at the far end of the circle. Some of the names were familiar to her, others she had never heard before. To some, he angrily enumerated recriminations and more than once she heard the curse, ‘Crucio’ fly out from his lips. Followed by a few seconds or minutes of agonizing howling before he ended it with a bored-sounding "Finite incantatum."
With others, he was content to ask questions and receive information. She heard his footsteps stop in front of her own bowed head, but he merely hesitated for a few moments before continuing on to their left. Snape’s hand again pushed down upon her neck, urging her not to give in to her inclination to raise her head up to peer after him. And she could tell that his hand was trembling just the slightest bit. She took in a deep breath. It was apparently not a good sign that he had not called upon Snape when he first approached him.
After what seemed like another eternity, she heard his steps nearing them again. She dared allowed her eyes to look at the patch of earth directly in front of her and this time, she noted, he stepped so close that the toes of his shoes bumped up against Severus’ forehead.
"Severus?" The voice was cold, sibilant and yet somehow seductive.
"My Lord," replied Severus, releasing his hold upon Helena so that he could grasp the hem of Voldemort’s robe with both hands and bring it towards his lips to kiss it. A moment later, Voldemort raised up his shoe slightly, bringing it up towards Snape’s lips. Helena forced herself to keep looking as she saw Severus open his mouth again and his long tongue dart out to lick the mud-splattered tip of the shoe.
"You’ve brought me something, Severus?" He was lowering his shoe back down again and Snape was staring down at the ground in front of him.
"Yes, my Lord."
"You may rise and present her to me," the voice continued.
In a moment, Snape had risen to his feet, though his head remained bowed as he bent down to help her rise. She began to get to her feet, and then felt Severus’ hands pushing down at her shoulders. She belatedly realized that she was supposed to arise only to a kneeling position.
She heard a dry, brittle laugh. "Or rather, you should thank me for giving her to YOU, shouldn’t you?"
She kept her eyes cast downwards as a thin hand, the fingers abnormally long and skeletal suddenly arose from the folds of robe in front of her and grasped her tightly around the chin, jerking her head upwards. She found herself staring up in the hooded figure’s face. Again, there was nothing visible except those horrible, red eyes.
"After all, you sought her at my urging. And took her in my name, didn’t you, Severus?"
"Yes, my Lord."
She felt the cold fingers wrap even more tightly around her and felt herself being lifted up to a standing position by the force of Voldemort’s hand.
"Oh, yes," he continued, both of his chilly hands gently caressing her cheeks. "You are the little virgin who gave her blood for me, aren’t you?"
She found herself mesmerized by those eyes, unable to move even when she wanted to shy away from those icy hands and that terrifying stare. Unable even to nod her head in assent.
"Thank you. It was…..delicious." His hands dropped away from her.
"Well, unwrap my present for me, Severus," the cold voice urged.
"Allow me, my Lord."
She started. A figure had just appeared at Voldemort’s right side, and she recognized that voice instantly. Malfoy.
Again Voldemort gave that short, dry laugh. "Patience, Lucius. Your help in this matter will not go unrewarded. But I have asked Severus to do the honors."
She felt Snape quickly move to stand in front of her. His wand was in his hand, and she heard him murmur a spell under his breath, feeling his eyes upon her face even as she kept her own eyes wide and unfocused, staring somewhere in the vicinity of the large, blazing fire. A moment later, she felt her clothes disappear and she stood stark naked in the bitter cold. Snape moved in back of her, keeping one hand gently pressed against her back as if to give her the strength to endure this.
"Oh, very pretty, isn’t she Lucius?" Voldemort’s voice again, low and approving.
"Very pretty, my Lord."
She found her eyes being drawn back towards the figures. Lucius had removed his Death Mask now, and his cold gray eyes were blazing at her, taking in every inch of her naked flesh.
"But, not unblemished, I see?" continued Voldemort, taking a step closer to her.
She felt him raise up her right arm. She felt as helpless and weak as a marionette, and wondered vaguely how she was able to stay on her feet.
"She appears to already bear my mark. But, upon the wrong arm, Severus." He released her arm and it fell, listlessly and lifelessly, back to her side.
Snape had thrown himself back down upon his knees. "Yes, my Lord."
"But I wished her to remain unmarked. I had plans for her," continued the voice.
Helena shivered. She recognized that tone of voice. It was the same one she had heard him use just before casting the Cruciatus Curse upon those of his servants who had disappointed him.
"I was jealous my Lord." Snape’s voice was low, but not apologetic or pleading.
Voldemort took a step backwards and regarded him thoughtfully, his head shaking slowly back and forth. "It’s not like you to be impulsive, Severus."
Helena closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "I will serve you faithfully in other ways, my Lord." She shuddered involuntarily, expecting at any moment to hear him curse her for her impudence.
Instead, she heard him step nearer to her, so that his mouth was just inches from her ear. "How will you serve me, little one?"
She opened her eyes, but kept them focused down on the ground. "I will still seek out the information you require. But, I shall wring their secrets even more quickly because I will be a shy, stammering, virginal little school girl." She dared to raise her eyes to his now. "And those pompous fools will be so flattered and so sure that I am inches away from sharing their bed they will tell me anything I wish to know."
For a long moment, she dared to stare into his eyes. Then he laughed again.
"Are you so sure you can lead them on without surrendering to their demands, little one? You seem very confident of your abilities."
She gathered her courage and drew in another deep breath. "There was once a woman named Anne Boleyn, my Lord. A Muggle, although many whispered that she was actually a witch."
"Ah, yes," breathed Voldemort, nodding slightly. He began to circle slowly around her.
"And she managed to keep one of the most powerful and ruthless men of all time at her beck and call for nearly ten years while she dangled the promise of her body and her bed before his eyes."
Voldemort’s laughter this time was low and long.
"But, once she had actually allowed King Henry to bed her, she lasted a mere three years as his wife. Before he chopped off her head," she concluded.
She licked her lips and dared to glance around the circle at the Death Eaters for a moment before continuing. They all seemed to be paying rapt attention to her little performance. "I think, for many men, the promise and lure of sex is much more powerful than the actual act."
"Perhaps."
Her heart began to pound slightly. He sounded amused, but not completely convinced.
"And I can help in other ways," she hurriedly added.
"Yes?"
"As a Mediwitch student, I will have access to many restricted magical ingredients. I can collaborate with Professor Snape on brewing new potions and testing out their effectiveness. On the laboratory animals, to begin with."
"Oh?" Voldemort continued to walk around her.
"Yes. And then on…..other victims. I think between the two of us, we will be able to serve you very well," she pleaded.
Voldemort stopped his pacing and stood in front of her, silently glancing back and forth between her face and Snape’s figure still kneeling on the ground.
"It appears that you shall be of use to me after all," he said.
He turned so that he was immediately in front of Snape. "It is fortunate that your mistress is such a persuasive and enthusiastic woman, Severus."
A moment later, Helena found herself choking back a cry as Voldemort unexpectedly raised his leg and gave a vicious kick to Snape’s unprotected stomach. Severus fell to the ground, his arms clutched around his middle as he descended.
"But it does not excuse your disobedience," continued Voldemort. His wand was out and pointed at Snape’s dark form lying on the ground. "Crucio."
The torture seemed to go on for hours. It took every ounce of self-control that Helena possessed to remain upright and not throw herself next to Severus’ writhing body. But she knew that if she dared to go to him, Voldemort would only prolong his agony.
She wrapped her arms around herself, the blazing fire in front of her failing to keep the piercing wind from whipping around her bare, exposed skin. She felt Malfoy’s eyes upon her, and looked over at him. He looked amused and pleased as his eyes flicked back and forth between Snape’s twisting body and her own naked flesh.
Finally, Voldemort seemed to tire of the screaming, and pointed his wand at Snape again.
"Finite incantatum."
Severus’ cries stopped and resolved into agonized, heavy breathing as he sought to regain his self-control.
"Get up, Snape!" Voldemort’s voice was clear and cold.
Severus somehow managed to drag himself up to a kneeling position.
"And now you, my dear." Voldemort was standing before her again. "Kneel!" he commanded.
She sunk, dazed, to her knees and closed her eyes, waiting to hear him curse her as well.
"Since you are so eager to serve me, you must be ready to receive my personal mark," he challenged.
She nodded, dumbly.
"Hold out your left arm," he said.
She swallowed and raised up the requested limb.
Voldemort’s thin lips broadened into a nasty smile. "And perhaps Severus should help you hold still."
She felt Severus kneel behind her and wrap his right arm around her, holding her right arm tightly against her body as he wrapped his arm about her waist. He wrapped the fingers of his left hand around her elbow, holding her arm up in a strong, firm grip.
"Do you swear your loyalty to me?" Voldemort asked.
"Yes," she whispered. But inwardly her mind defiantly screamed, "No!
His left hand wrapped around her wrist as his right hand brought the tip of his wand down upon the pale skin of her left forearm. An ominous red glow appeared on the tip of his wand and he slowly brought it down until it touched her.
She had thought it was agony when Severus had transferred his mark to her. And when she had felt it burn hotly while he was being called. But neither of those sensations were anything compared to the torment that greeted the nerve endings of her skin as his wand slowly traced the figure upon it. She screamed and the tears flowed freely from her eyes after just a few seconds. If Severus had not been holding her so firmly, she would have never managed to remain upright. As it was, she was barely concious by the time it was finished, and she slumped against him.
"Very good," intoned Voldemort, and she felt his fetid breath upon her cheek as he knelt down and his cold, thin lips kissed her on the mouth. "You are now truly one of my chosen ones."
"Yes," she whispered again.
"Raise her up, Severus," he ordered.
She felt his hands under her arms, pulling her up and helping to steady her as she rose to her feet.
"Let us all welcome our newest member," intoned Voldemort. Those thin lips smirked again. "With a kiss."
One by one the Death Eaters crowded around her and she endured the kisses of them all. She doubted that she could have withstood it if it hadn’t been for Severus’ strong, warm fingers imparting strength to her as he stood behind her. To her surprise, a fair number of the faces behind the masks were women, and they gave her the most lascivious of the kisses, one even daring to thrust her tongue deeply into her mouth. Narcissa Malfoy’s eyes looked down at her mockingly, a faint, superior smile on her own lips before she brushed softly against Helena’s.
"Welcome to the family, dear" she purred.
The last to kiss her was Lucius. And he dared to raise his right hand up to brush against her nipples as his left hand entwined in her hair and jerked her head back as his lips lingered over hers. He paused and smirked down at her a moment, and then bent down over her again.
"Enough!" It was Severus’ voice, low and warning in her ear.
"Yes, Lucius." Voldemort’s voice again. "I want Severus to provide us with more entertainment."
Helena swallowed hard, wondering what he had planned now.
"Come now, Severus," Voldemort continued, his long, thin fingers stroking along Snape’s white face. "Since you so seldom join in our revels, I think it’s only fair. Show us how well you fit together."
*********
Somehow, she managed to bear it, letting Severus words, hurriedly whispered into her ear, echo repeatedly in her brain as she knelt down on all fours in front of Voldemort and felt Severus thrust into her.
"Pretend we’re alone, pretend we’re alone, pretend we’re alone."
She ordered her mind to be oblivious to the hoots and cheers of the crowd as they rocked back and forth, refusing to hear the lust grunts as several of the onlookers jerked off while watching them. But there was one thing she wasn’t able to blot out of her mind. As Severus ground into her and her own orgasm shook through her, she found herself staring up into Lucius Malfoy’s cold, lustful eyes.
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