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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
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Chapter 41: The Before the Party Celebration
Helena sighed and looked out again, for the hundredth time, at the window facing down onto the street below. She had left her house at 6 o’clock sharp and had hurried over to her grandmother’s house to retrieve her clothes and jewelry, and then apparated over to her apartment in London. The weather in this city was chilly, drizzly and depressing, and her mood was growing more anxious and despondent every minute. Although she had never been happy about this invitation, she was beginning to feel more stressed and trapped with every passing minute. It was simply not in her nature to mingle with a group of people she didn’t know well. And, seeing that the people in question were a group of Death Eaters, she had no desire to advance the acquaintance. Much less, she had to admit to herself, submit herself to the scrutiny of older, moneyed women to whom such stuffy, elegant affairs were no doubt second nature.
She hugged her arms around herself and went into the kitchen. She had considered bringing a bottle of champagne with her, but had decided against it, figuring that there would be more than enough of that beverage served throughout the night. Instead, she had managed to sneak a bottle of very good, very dry red wine out of the wine rack at home, and had it already open and ‘breathing’ on the counter. She tapped her carefully painted fingernails impatiently against the counter, debating whether or not she should indulge herself and pour out a glass to drink while she waited.
"Oh, damn it, Severus," she muttered, unhappily, glancing at the clock which seemed to be standing still tonight. "Couldn’t you be just a bit early tonight?"
Of course, he couldn’t, she decided. It was not in his nature to be early or late for any appointment. She finally gave in and poured out a small glass of the wine and returned to the living room. She sat on the sofa and forced herself to take small, carefully timed sips of the wine as she listened to the sound of the rain pounding against the pane and the vague, muffled sounds of the street below as the partygoers began to make their way to their celebrations.
As the clock in the hallway began to toll out its seven chimes, she heard the doorknob turn, and a second later she had managed to make her way across the room in time to throw herself into Snape’s arms as he opened the door. She clung to him fiercely, her fingers lacing into his hair and pulling his face towards her as her mouth opened, wide and hungry for him. His own arms swiftly embraced her and pulled her tightly against him for a long moment until she finally pulled back.
"I’ve missed you," she moaned.
"I’ve missed you," he whispered back. "But," he added, his eyebrow raised and the corner of his mouth raised into a smirk, "could we possibly continue this inside your apartment rather than outside in the hall?"
"Definitely," she murmured, moving back and shoving the door closed with her foot after he was safely inside.
She really had meant to talk to him first-to tell him the news that her Grandmother now also knew about them and that she suspected Malfoy was up to something. And to show him that she had not yet opened his gifts, and to ask him what he had thought of the presents she had left for him. And to offer him a glass of wine and show him the gown and jewelry she was to wear that night. But, the next thing she knew, he had picked her up and headed into the direction of the bedroom. And any thought of talking flew straight out of her head.
"Lumos," he muttered, dropping her down on to the bed.
She smiled up at him as the lights flickered on and he began to quickly remove his clothing. "You did miss me, didn’t you?"
In the end, neither of them bothered getting completely undressed. Their desire for each other had been so heightened by their absence that they contented themselves with Snape undoing his fly and Helena pulling up her skirt and pulling down her panties, and indulging in a brief, passionate joining.
As Snape groaned and pulled away from her, Helena laughed and regarded him teasingly. "Now, is this any way to begin a night of orgiastic celebration?"
He chuckled ruefully as he rebuttoned his fly. "Actually, I doubt that tonight is going to be an orgy."
"Really?" she asked, heading off towards the bathroom to clean herself off.
"No," he replied, following behind her. "Our Lord has declared a moratorium on such celebrations-particularly ones that also involve the torturing and sacrifice of Muggles."
"Any particular reason?" she asked, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown.
"Yes, he seems to have become quite cautious of late." Snape sighed and leaned against the doorway. "Apparently, Dumbledore has finally convinced enough people of the reality of Voldemort’s return. So, he has prudently decided that it is best to work as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. Until such time as he is strong enough to make a decisive strike against his enemies."
"So this party-" she began, soaping up a washcloth.
"Is simply a party. Attended only by Death Eaters, of course. But it is not, per se, a Death Eater meeting. It is merely the annual Malfoy event it has always been. Open only to those couples of their acquaintance that merit their illustrious notice," he continued, the sarcasm evident in his voice. "I assume," he added, as a second thought.
"You mean you’ve never been to one before?" she asked, rather surprised.
"As I have never been half of a ‘couple’ before, no," he admitted, rather reluctantly.
"Ah, well," she commiserated, "just another small price you have to pay for the pleasure of sharing my bed."
He snorted and turned away. By the time she had finished, he was in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of wine.
"I see you haven’t opened my presents," he noted as she entered the room. "Or," he added, pausing to pour some wine into the glass she held out for him, "did you open them and then wrap them up again?"
"Oh, that would be a very sneaky thing to do," she protested.
"Very," he replied, with a smile.
"Oh, I’ve turned over a new leaf," she declared.
He snorted again. "Somehow I doubt that," he observed, putting down the bottle and making his way back towards the living room.
"All right, I’ll admit, I did consider it," she laughed, following him back out. "But, I decided it would be more fun to open them when we’re together." Her eyes fell on the coffee table. "And you decided that too, apparently?" Her presents to him were neatly stacked, still wrapped, on top of the table.
"Yes," he admitted, sitting down on the sofa, upon which were placed his presents to her. He stretched out his legs and raised his feet to prop them on the table. "I’ve brought yours with me too. Though my hesitation to open them was due more to the fact I was afraid you of what they might contain."
He took a sip of his wine. "I rather suspected I would find something jumping out at me when I opened them. Like a naked, singing leprechaun," he added, with a slight chuckle.
"Hmm, I’ll have to remember that in time for your birthday," she said, sitting down beside him. "When is that anyway?"
His smile broadened. "Let’s make that your next challenge, shall we?"
She smiled back at him.
I’ll bet Poppy knows. And that she would just love to help me give him a nice surprise party.
"How was the Yule Ball?’ she asked. "Have fun chaperoning?"
"Humph," he muttered with a grimace.
"Chase anyone interesting out of the rose bushes this year?"
"No, actually this year they all tried to sneak into the hedges surrounding Greenhouse 3," he replied. "And," he continued, a malicious gleam in his eyes, "I’m sure you’ll be glad to know that Mr. Grammis was unfortunate enough to wander just a little too close to the Creeping Nightvine this year."
"Oh," she asked, raising her eyebrows. He had been her date last year at the ball. And the memory of his unwelcome hands thrusting into her bosom was quite fresh in her mind.
"Yes," he replied. "Seems the poor lad didn’t realize that it was wrapping itself around his body until it had, shall we say, managed to take a firm hold onto a very delicate part of him."
"He didn’t notice?"
"Apparently he was under the impression that the young lady with him was ‘stroking’ him there?"
"Until it started shooting its barbs out?"
"Yes."
Helena snickered. "You sound as if you watched the whole thing," she noted.
"Of course not, Miss Harrison," he admonished. "You know I always make a point of interrupting the students before they could get themselves into such a contretemps."
She laughed again.
"And I’m sure," he added, regarding her with a smile, "that you’ll be pleased to hear that he was well enough to walk-or shall we say limp–out of the infirmary this morning."
She laughed again and then bent down and picked up a present to hand to him. "So," she said, "want to go first?"
He accepted the gift and set down the wineglass on the table so that he could use both hands to open it up. Helena noted with pleasure that he did seem rather cautious as he slid the bow off of the box and lifted the lid up. Then he smiled and rose to his feet, raising the garment from the box and unfolding it.
"Very elegant," he whispered, putting his arms into the sleeves.
"Well," she replied, "it seems as if I’m always borrowing your robe, so I thought I owed you a new one."
He smiled down at her and turned around, tying the belt around him. The lounging robe was made out of black silk, but it was embroidered in green and had a distinctly oriental air about it.
"Thank you," he said, slipping it off again and returning it to its box. "Will you open one of yours now?"
She shook her head. "Finish opening yours first," she suggested, sipping at her wine.
He bent over to retrieve another gift. This one was quite large and rectangular. He opened it up quickly and then sat, staring down into it.
"Be kind," she murmured, after a moment.
"You’re the one who’s kind," he replied, reaching to remove the picture from the box. "You’ve managed to make me look half-way presentable."
It was a picture she had drawn of him, standing at the front of the dungeon classroom. There was a pale stream of light flooding in through the window behind him, and much of the background was muted and blurred, focusing all of the viewer’s attention upon the figure of the man standing so tall and proud in the middle of his domain. One of his long, slender hands was leaning against his desk, the other was perched on his hip as he regarded the viewer with a steady, serious gaze. The contrast between his pale skin and jet-black hair and eyes was jolting and riveting.
"Well," she finally said, breaking the silence, "I always felt I owed you a nicer picture than the first one you saw."
He chuckled and glanced over at her. "I must say I’m surprised that you managed to put clothes on me this time."
"Oh, if you prefer a nude study-" she began, moving to grab the picture away.
"No," he said, slapping her hands away. He balanced the picture carefully against the back of the sofa and turned to give her a kiss. "I am very flattered and pleased," he said. He glanced back at the picture. "I only wish I could display it somewhere other than my rooms without fear that a student would use it for target practice."
She giggled and placed another gift on his lap. He tore this one open quickly and his eyebrows rose up as he regarded its contents. With a laugh, he turned to her. " ‘Edible Body Paint’?" he questioned.
"Well," she murmured, "I’ve really been meaning to branch out into other media, you know," she teased. "Besides, I thought you might like to take up art."
"I fear I have no artistic ability whatsoever," he protested.
"Oh, nonsense," she replied. "You’ll be amazed at what you’re able to create just…..dabbling around." She affected a serious expression. "I’ll be happy to give you lessons."
"All right, your turn," he said with a laugh, placing the package on the floor.
"Where should I begin?" she asked.
"The large, flat one I think," he replied, moving to pick his glass up again.
In an instant, she had torn off the wrapping and was lifting the lid off of the box. "Oh," she cried, lifting up the book. " Michelangelo’s Masterpieces," she read. Then a wicked smile flitted across her face. "Oh, darn," she said, "and I was hoping there was a new edition of Wanton Wizards and Witches," she teased.
She leaned over to give him a kiss. "You must have gone to a Muggle bookshop for this," she said.
"Yes, but, it’s not completely non-magical," he replied, reaching down to retrieve something out of his pocket. He fished it out and dropped it in her hand.
She looked at it curiously, it appeared to be small, pair of pince-nez spectacles. "What do I do with these?" she questioned.
He smiled. "Wear them while looking at one of the illustrations."
Intrigued, she opened up the book and placed the glasses on her nose. She stared down at the page, and suddenly gasped and drew back. For, instead of looking down at the book lying on the table, she was now gazing upwards, the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel appearing in all of its glorious splendor. She looked around, perplexed, wondering how she had been transported there, and wondering where Severus was. A moment later, she had pulled the glasses off of her nose, and abruptly found herself back in her apartment, seated on the sofa with Severus beside her.
"That is amazing," she whispered. "I never dreamed that it was really so beautiful-so vibrant," she gasped.
"Well," he said, "that’s because you’re seeing it as Michelangelo saw it. Not covered with centuries of grime and ill-use, but as it appeared immediately after he finished it."
She stared down at the glasses. "These take you back in time."
"Not really," he admitted. It’s only an illusion, crafted by an artistic wizard. But a very powerful one, facilitated by the fact that all great artists strive to capture a moment of time for all eternity in their work."
"Amazing," she repeated, carefully placing the glasses alongside of the book. "Thank you. And what should I open next?" she asked, grinning.
"The small package."
"Ah." She tore off the paper and glanced at the small, hinged box she had unwrapped. It looked suspiciously like a jewelry box. She hesitated for a moment, and then bit her lip and raised up the lid. And then she stared down, once again rather perplexed.
"You’re giving me a pair of Golden Snitches?" she asked, as the two golden orbs contained within the box suddenly spread out their small, rapidly flapping wings and rose up into the air. Then they floated in the air, bobbing up and down in front of her eyes.
"They’re not Snitches," he corrected her, "They’re Ben Wa balls."
It took a moment for the name to register, but when it did, she found herself giggling hysterically, and it took her several minutes to regain her composure.
"I didn’t know they were so mobile," she said, as she held out her hand and the balls dipped down and danced across her palm.
"Muggle ones aren’t," he replied. "But some intrepid witch decided, centuries ago, that a little ‘Enervating Spell’ would be a vast improvement upon the original design. And that those little fluttering wings might create quite an enjoyable sensation." His smirk grew wider. "With a little practice, I’m told they’ll start to obey your every command."
"Any special reason why you’re giving these to me?" she asked.
He shrugged and sat back against the couch with his arms crossed in front of him. "Let’s just say I want to make sure you have something to keep you…..occupied during those long nights away from me while you’re attending the University."
She giggled again. "You sure we can’t try these out together?" she asked, as she reluctantly coaxed the orbs back into the box.
He merely smiled in return and handed her the final package. This one contained a long, sheer, and lacy black negligee.
"Ah," she said, raising the fabric to her cheek and rubbing sensuously against it. "Is this also for my long nights away from you?"
"No," he said, leaning down to kiss her. "This is for my enjoyment for those nights that we are together," he assured her.
"Would you like me to try it on right now?" she whispered.
"I would, but" he replied, glancing at his watch and sighing, "We had better be on our way."
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Secretly Slytherin