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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
- 37
- 38
- 39
Chapter 38: Witches Can Be Stubborn
Helena stood there for several moments, frozen in position, while the sheets of watercolor paper slowly cascaded out of her stilled fingers. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she studied his face and tried, futilely, to detect a hint of humor or teasing in his expression. Then she drew in her breath and clamped her teeth over her lower lip, at the same time finding that her eyes were blinking madly as she felt the warm tears already welling in them. A moment later, she had dropped all the supplies, noisily, into the box and had tread swiftly across the room to stand near the fireplace. She stood, staring down into the flames as she avoided his gaze.
"I said I was sorry," she mumbled. She raised her hand to her eyes to wipe away the tears that had already fallen and took in another breath.
***Come on girl, get ahold of yourself. Maybe he’s just testing you to see how you’d react. ***
"Okay," she said, taking in another deep breath turning back to face him, "I really screwed up last night when I made that offer about the potions, but-"
His hand was raised up in the air as he rose to his own feet. "No, you misunderstand me, Helena." He paused and walked closer to her. "I am not angry with you. I’m angry with myself."
"You have a funny way of showing it," she protested.
"Perhaps," he conceded, the faintest trace of a mocking smile upon his face. Then his expression became deathly serious again. "But, I’m concerned about you. I’m finally beginning to realize that perhaps you are simply too young to be expected to do what Albus and I have just assumed you would be able to do."
"Oh." For just a moment she was silent as her mind raced ahead, trying desperately to figure out just what had prompted this decision and how she could persuade him that he was mistaken. "You mean how I acted last night," she said, slowly.
He said nothing, but his dark eyes were brooding and contemplative.
***Yes, that had to be it. All right, Helena, you have to convince him that it was just a temporary reaction.***
"Oh, yes, I know," she began, trying to sound flippant and abashed. "All that needing to be held and comforted-oh, yes, I was really a baby about that, wasn’t I?"
His dark eyes swept over her and his mouth tightened again.
"Yes, I was," she answered for herself. "But, don’t worry. It’ll never happen again." Her voice was cheery and self-deprecating and her gaze was steady and sure. Inwardly, the image of her mother was spinning in her brain. She wondered if this was how her mother had felt and acted the day that Malfoy had rejected her and told her to go back to Harrison and pawn off the baby as his. Except that she sure that her mother’s tears had flown freely and that she hadn’t tried to hide the desperation in her voice.
Still, he gave her no response.
She gulped, and tried another tact. "You know women, all hormones." She allowed a small, self-deprecating laugh to flow from her lips. "After all, it’s just before my ‘time of the month’, and you know I get awfully emotional and touchy about things around that time…"
His eyes were clear and unwavering.
"You had your period last week," he murmured, softly.
She blinked and for just a brief moment, there was panic in her eyes.
***Damn you and your attention to detail, anyway.***
And then suddenly, she looked as if she were only slightly embarrassed and nervous.
"Well, come on, I’ve been under a lot of stress lately," she protested. "I still have lots of exams coming up before the winter break, and I’ve been up studying and not getting a lot of rest." She laughed again and continued, with a slight blush upon her cheeks. "I really haven’t had a good night’s sleep in quite a while, so after the stress of the meeting, I fell apart just a little bit. I admit it." She smiled broadly. "It’s not like it’s going to happen every time."
There was a touch of admiration in his eyes now. "I will say you are one hell of an actress," he finally said.
"Last night really wasn’t that horrible!" she protested, hoping that she sounded merely annoyed and not desperate.
He turned and strode back towards the table. A moment later he returned, holding the picture that she had drawn out towards her again. "Really? Than why did you feel compelled to draw this-to try to get this sordid image out of your head before you could even return to your rooms?" he asked.
"I just," she hesitated and shrugged. "I haven’t had time to draw in weeks, and I sat down and yes-that happened to be the first thing that came to mind, so-"
"Oh, for Merlin’s sake, stop it!"
She closed her mouth and stood back.
"Please, stop lying to me," he said, shaking his head. "I thought you were finally trusting me enough to tell me the truth."
"Then you stop lying to me!" she protested. "I mean…..what..…you’ve just now figured out that I’m only eighteen? You are still angry with me, aren’t you? Or worse, if you’re tired of me, just say it!" She caught her breath, unable to go on, unhappily aware that there had been a definitely tone of despair in her last words. And wishing that she had never shouted that last bit. Because she sincerely doubted she would be able to stand it if replied that it was true.
He abruptly turned away from her again. He stood, frowning down at the floor for a few seconds, and then slowly turned back to her.
"No, I am not ‘tired’ of you," he said.
She stared back at him, allowing a small flicker of hope to rise at hearing that declaration. And also wishing that there was something-anything-in his body language that would make her believe that she could just run over to him and throw herself into his arms. But, he was still holding himself stiffly and awkwardly away from her.
"But, I do feel responsible for what’s happened to you," he finished. "All that has happened to you," he emphasized. "If I hadn’t seduced you in the first place, you wouldn’t be in this situation."
There was another long moment of silence between them. She waited for him to go on, but he remained still and quiet. She walked back to the sofa and sat down.
"No, I wouldn’t be in this situation," she replied. "I’d be in a much worse one."
He looked over at her mockingly. "How so?" he queried.
"Well, in the first place, I would probably already have been bedded by my own father," she began. "And he was just as determined to make me a Death Eater. Except he was going to make me one who was whoring about in innumerable beds, may I add. So my situation would be at least as worse as it is now."
"I don’t believe that."
"Why not?"
He sighed and sat down in the chair near the fireplace. "I don’t doubt that Lucius had some idea of your powers and talents. And I do think that at some point he might have approached you, become attracted to you, and decided to court you as a possible Death Eater. But, the fact remains that he never even contacted you directly until he had proof that we were having an affair."
"What are you saying?"
He shook his head grimly. "I’m saying that, as much as I would love to believe that I can protect you, I am afraid that it is our relationship has made you even more attractive to Lucius. And therefore, more vulnerable."
He rose up out of the chair and began to pace back and forth. "If you had been involved with anyone else, I’m sure Lucius would not have been happy. But, I have begun to suspect that the main reason he conceived of his plan was because he found the thought of forcing me to share you with others immensely amusing. He was looking forward to watching me squirm while others bedded you. And probably hoped I would do something that would ultimately and permanently disgrace myself in Voldemort’s eyes. After all, I have reason to suspect that he would particularly like to get rid of me."
"Because he’s suspicious that you really aren’t true to Voldemort?" she asked.
Snape barked out a short laugh. "Voldemort himself is suspicious of that," he retorted. "So, of course, Malfoy is too. But," he hesitated, and looked down at her. "Even if Lucius thought I was completely true to the Dark Lord, he would still have reason to want to get rid of me."
"Wants all of the power and glory of being Voldemort’s most trusted and valuable servant, without any competition from anyone else?"
"Yes."
"Well, I can’t deny that your interest in me seems to have made me more attractive to him," she said. "However, before you start feeling too guilty about seducing me, remember how anxious I was for you to do it," she said, smiling up at him.
"As Albus has said, the fact that you were willing to be used was not an excuse for me to take advantage of you," he replied.
"And, I suppose, I could have mentioned, especially when you asked me about it directly, who my father was. And then you might have been able to end the affair before it came to his notice. Just maybe," she added, "if I let you."
"At any rate," she said, rising up from the couch. "Whatever mistakes either of us has made in the past, I don’t see how my going away is going to solve anything at this point." Inwardly, she was exceedingly relieved that the conversation had turned to a comparatively quiet discussion. She hoped that her ability to calm down and discuss the matter with a semblance of intelligence and maturity would make him rethink his decision.
She reached out and touched him lightly on his back, and was immensely relieved to see that he did not pull away from her. "After all, Voldemort can summon me at any time," she protested, as she dropped her hand and her fingertips stroked lightly against the fresh mark on her left arm.
"But you needn’t answer the call," he replied, still looking away from her. "It will be unpleasant-" He stopped and shook his head. "No, it will hurt like hell," he amended. He finally turned to look at her. "But, you do have immense will power," he said, his black eyes glittering as he looked at her face. "You will be able to stand it."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she said, dryly, "especially since I’m such a young, frail creature."
Snape scoffed and crossed his arms, leaning back against the fireplace mantle. "That is not what I said-or meant to infer."
"Anyway, how old were you when you became a Death Eater?" she challenged.
She immediately regretted the question, for instantly his expression became guarded and bitter. "About your age," he replied. He advanced on her and grabbed for her left arm. "And I assure you that when I received my mark from Voldemort, it was of my own free will. And I intended to serve him faithfully and thoroughly." He allowed her to pull her arm back. "Because I expected much in return."
"And for that decision, I have paid very dearly," he continued. "And let me assure that what happened last night will seem very tame compared to what you would be facing in the coming months and years."
He paused, and for a moment his own fingertips rubbed absentmindedly at his own left forearm. "I have had to sacrifice so much. Which is only appropriate, because my sins were numerous and grievous. And I have never felt that I should expect anything else. And, I have never before seriously questioned Albus’ judgment in such a matter. But, I finally realized that there is one thing I am not willing to forfeit. I can not stand by and watch your innocence being destroyed. Even more, I selfishly can not bear to watch you learn to hate me, because of what I have done."
"What do you mean?" she demanded.
He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his voice was low and soft. "I mean that when I saw you in the shower last night-sobbing hysterically and scrubbing yourself again and again….." He paused again.
Helena reached out and placed her hand on his arm, but he drew away from her.
"I realized that-as well as you were able to hide your feelings at the time-the night had been horrific for you." He shrugged, "And selfishly, I was rather afraid you were never going to want me to touch you again," he finished.
"I was trying to wash away some of the humiliation I felt, not you," she protested, her fists clenching as her feelings of impotence and despair began to rise again.
"Forgive me if I seem unable to completely dissociate myself from the act that compelled you to seek such absolution," he replied.
"But," she sputtered, "You were the one who refused to make love later. I was willing."
"So you said."
"Well?"
"Did you truly want to make love, or was it your ‘offering’, to make sure that you were forgiven?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but he stopped her before she could utter a word.
"You have a very ingrained habit of figuring out what another person wants and coming up with the appropriate lie and the accompanying behavior to bring yourself into compliance with their wishes." He frowned and drew his eyebrows together. "I have sometimes wondered if it is always deliberate, or if it is simply a pre-conditioned and unconscious response on your part."
He shook his head. "I have often wondered if you realize how often you lie to yourself, Helena," he concluded, softly.
"Doesn’t everybody?" she asked, mockingly.
"Oh, yes, to some extent. You just do it exceedingly often. And exceedingly well."
"I assure you," she said, smiling up and him and drawing nearer. "That I wanted to make love with you last night for my own purely selfish reasons." She reached up for him, but he drew away again. Just a subtle movement, but it extinguished her hopes that she could entice him into the bedroom and convince him of her eagerness with actions instead of words.
"Anyway," she continued, "just exactly where would you send me? Don’t you think Voldemort or Lucius might be interested enough to send others out to look for me?"
"I’m sure they would," he replied.
"So-"
"And they will be looking for a lovely, petite, dark-haired witch," he said. He reluctantly reached out his hand and stroked her tenderly on her cheek. "Not a tiny little Eagle owl."
She had lifted up her own hand to caress his, but she abruptly pulled back, both her eyes and mouth widened in surprise.
"You mean you think I’m going to hide away as an owl?"
He nodded. "After all, only Albus and I are aware of your animagus abilities at this point."
She stood staring at him for a long time before she finally gasped: "You’re serious."
He nodded again.
"For how long?"
He shrugged and held out his hands. "As long as it takes," he replied.
She looked at him incredulously. "Or, until Lucius decides to torture you until you tell him where I am," she retorted.
"We’ve already thought of that," he said. "My story will be that you and I had a huge argument, and you stormed out. I’ll say I don’t know where you are. And," he shrugged, "if by chance, they don’t believe me, I still won’t be able to tell them where you are. Because Albus will be the only one to have that information," he said turning away from her.
Now Helena sank down into the chair as she continued to stare at him.
"You’ve really discussed all of this with him already," she said, wonderingly.
"Yes. He was reluctant at first, but he did agree that it was a logical solution which would afford you a margin of safety while allowing me to continue in my current role."
"And why was he willing to consider it?"
"I told him the details about the meeting that we had omitted last night," he said, quietly.
She felt her cheeks beginning to flush again.
"And of my behavior after I got back to your room?" she asked.
He nodded. "Just enough to convince him that, as well as you were able to control your feelings at the time, I did have my doubts as to how long you could maintain your sanity in this situation. And that perhaps, after all, you shouldn’t be expected to do so."
"And what did he say?"
He frowned and stared down at the floor again for a moment. "He said," reluctantly, lifting his eyes back to her face, "That he thought it was a perfectly understandable response to your ‘baptism by fire’ as it were. And that I was underestimating you." He paused and sighed, "And that he was highly doubtful that I would be able to persuade you to agree to this. But that, if I did manage to persuade you, he would facilitate my plan."
Helena smiled at him. "He’s a very wise man."
Severus snorted and shook his head, as his shoulders sagged just a bit. "Wiser than you, apparently."
She shrugged.
"Do you have any idea how perilous your position is?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
He glided over to her and knelt down beside her. "I mean, that if something should happen to Albus-"
Helena shivered involuntarily.
"That the consequences for you and me would be very serious indeed."
She stared down at him. "With no one to fight Voldemort, I would think everyone would be in serious trouble," she said.
"Well, we have Potter," he murmured sardonically. "And Albus is hopeful that he will soon be able to face and defeat him by himself. And ‘The Boy Who Lived’ does seem to have an incredible amount of luck on his side."
"Which could run out at any time," finished Helena.
"Yes." He reached out to touch her hand. "And my luck is bound to run out sooner or later as well," he said.
She looked at him curiously.
"The only reason I managed to remain out of Azkaban after Voldemort’s last defeat," he said, "Is because Dumbledore was there to personally vouch for me. I know that Potter hates and distrusts me," he continued. "For good reason," he added, with a small, ironic smile. "I would hate to have to depend on his support to explain away this mark on my arm to the authorities." He raised his eyebrows, "Much less some of the actions I have had to take."
He looked down and gestured at her arms. "And you have not only one, but two marks to explain."
"Oh, don’t worry," she retorted, with a strangely cheerful grimness. "We’ll probably be tortured and killed by Death Eaters long before the Ministry has a chance to catch up with us."
Snape chuckled. "Trust in you to look on the bright side."
She raised her eyebrows and laughed back at him, and then they were silent again for a long time.
"Anyway," she finally said, holding out her hand to brush back a stray lock of hair from his eyes, "Yes, I was very upset last night. I didn’t expect things to happen the way they did. But, I will adapt. As you said," she continued, allowing her hand to playfully trace down his large nose, "I always figure out the perfect lie, sooner or later. Figure out what people want me to be, and play that role. And play it very well," she added, with a small smile.
"Just like you’re doing now?" he asked.
"Oh, a little bit," she admitted. "But," she pulled her hand away and stared down at the floor for a moment before raising her eyes back to meet his. "I would rather have a few moments of happiness with you, knowing that it might end at any time, than be sent away and risk never seeing you again."
"And that is," she continued, allowing the smallest of smiles to touch her lips, "The most honest thing I have ever said to you."
He nodded. "I wish…" he began, and stopped. "I wish that I had another choice to offer you. But I don’t," he admitted, raising his hand to brush back her hair. "Part of me wishes I could go back to September and undo everything I have done. But, since I can’t," he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead, "I should at least offer you this chance to leave. I never meant for you to have to face the kind of choices you have been forced to make."
"Well, a very wise man once said to me," she said, furrowing her brow as she struggled to remember, "That ‘you will go through life making decisions not because you want to make them. Or even because you think you should make them. But because you are forced to make them.’ I think those were the words," she said.
This time Snape’s laugh was long and hearty. "You have been waiting months to throw that one back in my face, haven’t you?" he asked, rising back to his feet.
"Of course," she said, smiling back up at him. "And, anyway, how can I just disappear? I’m supposed to start on my Mediwitch career in less than two months."
"And I seem to remember from that same meeting," he replied, "that you felt you were being pushed into that vocation. And that part of you would much rather pursue a career as an artist."
She laughed again. "Oh, yes. I can just imagine the whole magical world standing in line to buy my unmoving pictures."
"At any rate,’ he continued. "Poppy was also at the meeting."
She was again startled into silence. He had done some careful planning and had tried to enlist a considerable amount of support, apparently.
"And although she was disappointed at the thought of your having to abandon your education, for the time being at least, she was more concerned about your safety and welfare. And between her and Albus, she was sure that you would be granted re-admission at a later time."
"You seriously thought I was going to jump at this offer, didn’t you?" she said.
"I was hoping……and dreading…..that you would."
He stood looking down at her thoughtfully. Then he crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side. "I went about this the wrong way, didn’t I?" he asked. "I should have been cold and sarcastic, told you I was tired of you and your frailties and ordered you to get the hell out of my rooms and my life."
"Too late," she sighed, standing up. "Though I doubt that would have succeeded in getting rid of me for very long."
His eyebrows were up again.
"Oh, I would have stormed out of here-mad as hell as usual. But I would have been back, sooner or later." A large, evil grin appeared on her face. "With a large bottle of ‘Reconciliation Potion’ in my hand, no doubt."
"No doubt," he replied.
"Speaking of reconciliation," she said, her arms reaching out to embrace him, "you know that the art supplies weren’t the only thing hidden away in that drawer."
"Ah," he replied, his own arms encircling her body and drawing her close to him. "You found the book as well?"
"Yes," she whispered, raising and entwining her legs around his hips. "And after the scare you’ve just given me, I think I’m entitled to a special treat, don’t you?"
He laughed softly before bending down to kiss her passionately on the lips. "Have anything specific in mind?" he whispered, as he drew back.
"The ‘levitating’ position."
"Think you’re up to it?" he questioned.
"Oh, I think so." She shifted slightly so that she could rub her groin firmly against his. "And you certainly seem to be," she added, lasciviously.
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Secretly Slytherin