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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
- 42
- 43
Chapter 43: The Guest of Honor Arrives
She had really wanted to laugh. After Lucius’ announcement, it seemed that every man was determined to dance with her and every woman was resolved to strike up a conversation with her. She had once heard an expression likening someone to being as welcome as the "bastard at the family reunion." But apparently being the "illegitimate daughter of a Malfoy at a New Year’s Eve party" was a bit more acceptable.
She could assume that Malfoy’s current position of favor and power at Voldemort’s side meant that everyone was more anxious than ever to win his approval. And, since he seemed proud and happy to acknowledge her, they were all flocking to her side.
Of course, the one person she actually did want to have a conversation with was Severus. But during the few frustrating minutes that they had managed to talk to one another, they had been unable to say much to each other.
"What the hell is he planning?" she had hissed to Severus, under the cover of whispering some endearment into his ear.
He had smiled, laughed and stroked at her chin with his hand before leaning close to her and saying, under his breath, "I’m not sure yet. But, be on the lookout for anything."
By eleven-thirty, she had found that her head was spinning from the champagne and that her golden slippers were not nearly as comfortable as they had been when she first put them on. She sat in one of the chairs at the side of the room, fanning herself as the other guests whirled by. She kept throwing glances over at Severus, but Macnair and Nott were both crowded around him, apparently engaged in a deeply serious conversation. Finally, he managed to break away from them, but just before he could reach Helena’s side, Narcissa appeared and called out to him.
"Severus, could I possibly have a word with you?"
"Of course, Narcissa," he said, still walking forward and seating himself beside Helena.
"Oh, I hope you don’t, Helena, dear, but I just never do get a chance to speak with him during the school year," she purred. "Now, then, Severus," she said, returning her attention to him, "I do, of course, hope that by that time the old fool will have been dismissed, if not removed altogether. But, if not-"
She paused and accepted another glass of champagne from the tray of a passing house-elf. "What do you think the odds are that Draco will be made Head Boy in two years’ time?"
Snape cleared his throat and carefully brushed some lint off of his pant leg before daring to trust his voice to answer her. "Unfortunately, dear Narcissa, I fear the chances are practically nil."
She sighed in frustration and took another sip of wine.
"After all, it is awfully hard for a Slytherin to achieve that distinction in any year. Much less one in which, no doubt, Mr. Potter will be the ‘popular’ choice," he drawled.
"But, if he were to be eliminated-" Narcissa paused and smiled.
"Well, then," agreed Snape, "I dare say that Dumbledore will also be gone and Draco will be proclaimed Head Boy unanimously."
Narcissa laughed. "And you will be Headmaster, won’t you, Severus?"
"Of an all-Slytherin school," he added, smiling happily with a gleam in his eye.
"Oh, well," added Narcissa, glancing over at Helena, and giving her a slight, condescending pat on her arm. "We just might let a few of those pesky Ravenclaws remain as well," she said.
Helena forced her lips into a tight smile, for a moment indulging herself in a vision of jiggling against the woman’s arm so that her champagne spilled all over the hideously expensive fabric of her dress.
A moment later, though, Narcissa had excused herself and had drifted off back into the crowd.
"How are you doing?" Snape was bending near her, his voice full of concern.
"Oh," she replied, a bright smile plastered on her face. "Except for the fact that my feet ache, my head is throbbing and I swear my cheeks are going to shatter if I have to keep this stupid grin on my face any longer-just fine!" she hissed through her clenched teeth.
She bent closer to him and gave him a quick kiss. "When the hell can we get out of here?" she pleaded.
"I’m sure we can make our excuses shortly after midnight," he assured her.
But, as the words were coming out of his mouth, they heard a sharp, clanging sound coming from the middle of the dance floor. It was Lucius, calling for attention by ringing a large silver bell that had just been delivered to him by one of the seemingly inexhaustible supply of house-elves.
"Your attention, dear friends, your attention!" he called.
"Yes," he said loudly, checking the watch that was hanging from a fob attached to a button of his coat, "it is a quarter to midnight. Fifteen minutes until the ‘Witching Hour’," he laughed.
"Please, please, gather ‘round my dear colleagues, for there is yet another surprise in store for you this evening."
With a renewed frown upon his face, Severus offered his arm to Helena and they walked slowly, along with the other guests, towards the center of the ballroom.
"We are about to be visited by a very special guest," Lucius proclaimed, reaching out to take Narcissa by the hand.
A moment later, the music that had continued to play suddenly stopped, and a dull roar began to fill the hall and simultaneously the Dark Marks upon the arms of all the guests began to burn painfully.
Helena turned to stare at Severus. "I thought you said this wasn’t a meeting?" she whispered.
He shook his head in confusion and dropped to his knees, pulling her down beside him. The dull roar suddenly increased in volume and pitch to a deafening screech, and the room was suddenly chilled and dark as stiff breezes began to blow through it and all the lights were extinguished in the blink of an eye.
A moment later, the thin, tall figure of Voldemort had appeared in their midst, and all of the Death Eaters had prostrated themselves across the cold, marble floor in front of him.
"Oh, children," he called, "how nice to see you all playing so nicely together," he laughed. "Enjoying such a wonderful party," he continued, beginning to walk around the circle in front of their bowed heads.
"Just think," he purred, "it was less than eight months ago when you were called to my presence again after such a long absence." He paused and smiled grimly. "Those that answered my call, of course."
He began walking around the circle. "Malfoy. Nott. Macnair. Crabbe. Goyle. They all came when they were called."
He stopped in front of Severus. "But, some did not."
She felt Snape deliberately draw his hand away from her, and she shook in fear.
"No," he said, turning back and beginning to pace again. "Some did not." He paused again.
"Karkaroff." He shouted out the name and let it hang on the air. "A foolish, foolish coward. He ran instead of face me. As well he should. For he betrayed me and so many others."
Another silence.
"Crouch." This was said in a low whisper. "His absence was excusable. For he was busy serving me. Faithful and industrious to the end. The one who worked most tirelessly for my return. And has now been torn from me forever."
The silence stretched on for a long time.
"Snape."
Helena began to tremble even more.
"But," now there was trace of laughter in his voice. "He has explained that, hasn’t he? He was…..detained."
He walked forward a few more paces. "Who else was missing, Lucius?"
There was no hesitation in the answer. "Only the Lestranges, my Lord."
"Oh, yes." Now the voice was low and sad. "The Lestranges. The most faithful of all. They continued to do my bidding even after I was weakened and the foolish had begun to celebrate my disappearance. They paid the price and went to Azkaban while others fled or bargained for their freedom."
His footsteps began again. "A remarkable couple. A powerful, ambitious Wizard. And a clever, cunning Witch. Bound together as one in my service. I thought to never see their like again. But I was wrong."
His footsteps were right by her head now.
"Rise, Severus."
Slowly, Severus rose first to his knees and then to his feet.
"Severus, a strong ambitious Wizard." His cold smile was evil and approving. "And Helena," He gestured at Snape to help her also rise to her feet.
"A clever, cunning Witch." His cold fingers suddenly reached out to stroke at her cheek.
"The new couple that will serve me just as well as the Lestranges did. Once they have been truly united, of course."
He turned to Snape and smiled again. "You have been a good servant, Severus, but I somehow expected more of you. But, I know now that you served me as well as you could while you were still…..incomplete. Before you had found your other half. Your…..soulmate."
"Separately, your powers are exceptional. Together, you will be unstoppable. Only one thing remains, doesn’t it, Severus?" he hissed. "When will you claim her as your bride?"
Helena glanced back up at Snape. Again his face was deathly pale and his black eyes were gleaming strangely.
"As soon as I am able, my Lord," he murmured. "But, it can not be done yet," he protested, quietly. "Not while she is still a student-"
"Oh, yes," agreed Voldemort, holding out his hand and nodding his head. "She must be joined to you properly. Legally. And that can only be done if the marriage is proclaimed publicly. And, we dare not do that quite yet, do we, Snape?"
He shook his head mutely.
"No," he hissed, "Not while she is still technically a student at Hogwarts. Not until she was been formally graduated in June. Not until she has been officially removed form that senile old fool’s jurisdiction." With each sentence, the wizard’s voice grew louder and angrier.
"But," continued Voldemort, again turning his red eyes upon Helena, his voice once again soft and quiet, "I must know that you-both of you-are truly my loyal and devoted servants. That you will commit your body, souls and talents as one to my service."
Helena stared up at him wordlessly.
"What possible solution could there be to this problem, Lucius?" he asked.
A moment later, Malfoy had arisen from the floor and sidled up next to him. "A betrothal, my Lord?" he said with a smile.
She felt a small movement beside her as Snape’s body gave a seemingly involuntary jump.
"Yes," agreed Voldemort. He returned his gaze to Snape’s face. "A betrothal." He stepped closer to him and raised his cold fingers to caress his chin. "Proclaimed tonight before this congregation of true followers."
"But," sputtered Snape, "you must be twenty-one for the betrothal to be binding."
"Well, Severus," laughed Voldemort, "you are surely above the age of consent."
"But, Helena-"
"Must have a parent or guardian consent to the betrothal." Malfoy’s voice. He stepped forward. "And I hereby give my consent." There was an ugly gleam of triumph in those cold blue eyes.
"Is there any further impediment, Severus?" asked Voldemort, softly.
Snape swallowed and dropped down to his knees again. "None, my Lord."
Voldemort turned his gaze back to Helena and extended one long, thin finger to push down upon her shoulder. The next thing she knew she was on her knees as well.
"Using your right hands, hold out your wands," he ordered.
They both reached into their pockets and in a moment had they had complied with the order.
"Place your left hand upon the end of the other’s wand,"
Their arms crossed as their hands reached out and completed the circle of their connection.
Slowly, Voldemort drew his own wand out of his pocket and placed it so that it touched both of their wands. Helena drew in a breath as a shock of magical power ran through her.
"Repeat after me," he intoned. "I, Severus Snape-"
"I, Severus Snape-"
"Do hereby pledge to join in matrimony with you, Helena Harrison."
"Do hereby pledge to join in matrimony with you, Helena Harrison."
"And before this group of witnesses I do solemnly swear that should I fail to fulfill this vow-"
"And before this group of witnesses I do solemnly swear that should I fail to fulfill this vow-"
"I will forfeit to you my property, my possessions, and my powers."
"I will forfeit to you my property, my possessions, and my powers."
Voldemort turned to Helena. "Your turn, little one."
Less than a minute later she had repeated the same vows. And he turned to address the crowd.
"Who has witnessed this betrothal?"
One by one, the voices rose out from the crowd: "I, my Lord."
He turned back to face the couple kneeling before him. "The betrothal has been proclaimed and witnessed. Dishonor, disgrace, even death will befall any who betray this sacred and ancient oath Even should you both decide to renounce it," he warned, "the bond can only be done by proclaiming so in front of this same group of witnesses."
He raised his wand and the strange, electrical sensation suddenly ceased.
"Arise my servants," he said.
They slowly got to their feet.
"You are to marry as soon as you are able," Voldemort said. A low chuckle emerged from that hideous mouth. "And I suggest that you increase and multiply. After all, I shall always be in need of a fresh supply of followers."
With a flash of light, he was gone. As he disappeared from view, every clock in the mansion suddenly began to chime loudly, and the rest of the wizards and witches arose and began to celebrate the new year with shouts, hugs and kisses.
With a small, self-satisfied grin, Lucius stepped closer to Helena. "Happy New Year," he said quietly. "And congratulations," he turned to smile at Snape, "to you both. You certainly deserve each other," he cooed. Then he turned on his heel and strode quickly back to the crowd to search for Narcissa.
Severus and Helena stood dumbly for a moment, watching it all. And then suddenly Severus grabbed for her hand and was pulling her through the crowd and out the door.
"Severus, where are you going?" It was Narcissa’s voice, amused and sardonic.
As Snape turned to face her, Helena suddenly reached out and embraced him. He bent over her, and they shared a long, passionate kiss. Her eyes were shining, but defiant as she gazed up at him. She felt his fingers squeeze firmly against her arms and then he turned and bowed formally in the direction of his hostess.
"I am going, dear Narcissa," he said loudly, "to go take my fiancee to bed."
A roar of laughter and applause followed them out of the room.
As they started up the stairway, she clutched at his arm and began to whisper. "Severus, please-"
"Not here," he whispered back. "House-elves have big ears," he murmured between his clenched teeth.
She hung unto his sleeve and followed him blindly as he made his way through the maze of hallways again, finally finding their room. She turned and watched him slam the door behind them, taking out his wand and sealing the door up with not one, but three wards before he was satisfied. And then he sighed and stood, with his back pressed against the door and his eyes closed.
She regarded him silently for a long time.
"Malfoy had the whole thing planned, didn’t he?" she finally said.
"Yes," he replied, not opening his eyes.
"I’m…..I’m sorry-" she began.
He laughed and opened his eyes. "It’s worse than you think."
She swallowed. "There’s something worse than being engaged to me?" she asked, trying, but failing to keep her voice light. Or to disguise the tone of hurt in it.
He was suddenly beside her, holding her in his arms, hugging her tightly. "No, not that. Not that," he murmured.
She felt him kiss the top of her head, and then suddenly he released her again. "I am much more concerned with his exhortation to reproduce as quickly as possible."
She looked at him, puzzled. "Well, I admit I’m not quite ready for a child either, but-"
"This past week," he interrupted, walking over to sit on the bed, "I have been frantically reading through a number of Dark Magic tomes, trying desperately to discern just what benefit Voldemort derived from that little elixir that we provided for him." He rose back to his feet and tiredly shrugged the robe off of his shoulders. "And I found that, having fortified him with a drink of your blood and my semen, there was another way he could use us to restore his strength and powers."
She stared at him, trying to understand what he meant.
"If we conceive a child," he began, his gaze trained upon the floor, "he can drain the life force out of the child as it grows within you."
She swallowed and moved to sit beside him. "And at the end of nine months?" she asked.
"Voldemort’s powers would be exponentially increased."
She found that her voice was shaking. "And the child?"
"Would be stillborn," he answered quietly.
She stared at him wordlessly, and the image of a small, pale infant, with a small fringe of jet-black hair and eyes that would never open swam before her eyes.
"No," she whispered. "No."
He sighed and allowed his head to slip down into his hands for a moment. And then he lifted his head back up and met her gaze.
"We have time," he said, grimly. "We can not be married until summer, at the earliest. Fall, hopefully. And we can not be expected to have a child until we are properly and legally married."
"After which we can still continue to use your contraceptive potion," she said.
He frowned and glared at her. "It takes only a simple spell to determine whether or not a witch has taken such a potion. Or been placed under a contraceptive spell."
She blinked. Of course, she should have known that. Pomfrey had discovered that information running a simple magical scan upon her at the infirmary.
"Well," she said, "there’s always abstinence."
He threw her a withering glance. "There’s simple spells to detect for that, also."
"Oh," she replied.
She threw herself back on the bed and glumly surveyed the ceiling. "Well," she finally said, "as you say, we do have some time before we have to worry about that. Maybe Dumbledore and Potter will have defeated him by then."
"And maybe pigs will fly or Hagrid will be elected Minister of Magic by then," he responded.
"Trust you to always look on the bright side," she mocked, sitting up. She moved over and embraced him. "We’ll think of something," she assured him.
"You sound very sure," he muttered, unhappily.
"Why not?" she asked, rising to her feet and gesturing for him to undo the zipper at the back of her gown. That completed, she quickly tore the gown off of her shoulders and tossed it carelessly across the bench at the end of the bed, moving to stand before him in her underwear. "After all, you are the powerful, ambitious wizard who has already deceived Voldemort into believing you are faithful to him. Twice." She leaned down and kissed him.
He allowed himself a small smile as he drew her onto his lap. "And you," he said, "are the clever, cunning witch that tricked a Potion’s Master into drinking his own Veritaserum." He fingers went to the back of her corset, and a moment later it was thrown to the floor.
"And," she whispered, bending forward and beginning to unbutton his shirt, "you are the wizard you tricked a witch into drinking a ‘Reconciliation Potion’ after she swore she’d never come near you again."
He laughed softly. "And you," he said, moving to undo his fly, "are the witch who tricked a wizard into handcuffing her with her own transfigured wand."
She closed her eyes and slowly sighed as his hands reached up to caress her breasts. "Imagine," she sighed, "what we could do if we actually worked together for a change."
He shifted back on the bed, and the lay back, their bodies tightly wound around each other.
"And after all," he whispered, nudging her onto her back and moving his hand in between her legs, "we are soulmates, aren’t we?"
She opened her eyes and stared back at him. "Soulmates," she whispered back. Suddenly, he felt her pushing him away.
"Something wrong?" he inquired.
"Oh, no," she assured him, suddenly arising from the bed and gesturing for him to do the same. "I’m just in a sentimental mood tonight. It being New Year’s Eve and all."
With a suspicious frown, he allowed her to pull him to his feet. She picked up her discarded gown and searched in the pocket for her wand. A moment later, with a large smile, she pointed it at the bed and murmured a spell. The bed began to shake and shimmer, taking on a distinctly different shape.
As it settled into its new form, Snape began to laugh, loudly. "You are very good at transfiguration, aren’t you?" he said.
"Oh, I wouldn’t be quite so happy if I were you," said Helena, putting her wand down and using both of her hands to push him against the edge of the desk.
"This time," she purred, pushing him down across the hard surface, "you get to be on the bottom."
THE END
(But, never fear, I do intend to write a sequel. I just honestly don’t know when I will find the time to do it. But, in the meantime, don’t worry unduly about our friends. After all, Helena has already been bedded, branded and betrothed, and she still manages to come out on top.)
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Secretly Slytherin