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Love's Labours; Paradise Lost	By : Veresna Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 18697 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter 8: No Longer Celia, but Aliena, part 2

The lack of furniture might have made it seem a bit more spacious than it actually was, but it was certainly not cramped. There was a nice kitchen area at the far end of the room, with a good-sized window over the sink area and a tall counter serving both as an eating space and as a divider from the rest of the room. On the left side, a short staircase led up to the sleeping area and presumably, a bathroom. She noted, with a smile, that the one item of furniture he had managed to procure was a large bed, and that it was already covered with pillows, blankets, and a warm quilt. Tilting her head back, she saw that the large amount of light could be attributed to the skylight situated above the main room. She looked around at the walls again, observing that they were clean and freshly painted and that there were several built-in bookshelves as well. And then the fixtures upon the wall caught her eye and she stared at them, perplexed for a moment, before she finally realized what they were.

She hurried over to Snape, who was by now placing the bottles of Cognac within one of the kitchen cabinets.

"This is a Muggle flat," she exclaimed. "It has-" She stopped and pointed at the wall, "electricity!" she squealed.

"Indeed," he replied, "For your information, we are in an area referred to as "Muswell Hill", which is located in the north of London." Seeing her horrified expression he shook his head. "As for the electricity, I assure you it is quite safe and that you will learn to cope with it in very short order."

"But why?"

He frowned and slammed the cabinet doors shut. "Do you really think that even I could indefinitely keep you safe from the Death Eaters in the midst of Wizarding London?" he asked, quietly.

She hugged her arms around herself and looked very frightened again.

"I have made some other arrangements as well," he said, stepping back and turning around so that he could lean against the counter. "I do not think it is wise that you be completely dependent upon my generosity. Therefore, I have decided that it is absolutely necessary for to receive a proper education as well."

That startled her so much she momentarily forgot her distress. "What kind of education?"

"I rather thought bookkeeping would suit you," he answered, with a shrug. "I have seen first-hand the careful way in which you keep track of your finances," he noted. "And, after my first visit with you, I made a point of looking up some of your school records. The one bright spot in your otherwise desultory scholastic reports was the fact that you had been allowed special permission to begin Arithmancy in your second year."

"Yes," she replied, an abashed smile upon her face. "I picked up an Arithmancy book from one of the third years and found I couldn't put it down. Pretty soon, I was helping out the older students with their homework, even though I hadn't been to class yet."

"Professor Vector was quite impressed with your grasp of the basic concepts," he admitted, "Although, of course, she did temper that with the doubt that you would be quite as successful in the advanced classes, where magical power is necessary to achieve outstanding results."

Her smile faded away as she sunk back into despair for a moment.

Crossing his arms, Snape tilted his head back and examined the ceiling for a moment, as if considering the matter carefully. "But your innate intellectual skills will serve you well in the Muggle world," he explained, coolly, as he returned his gaze to her face. "I believe that, in a very short time, you will be able to support yourself. And perhaps, if you show enough aptitude, you may even aspire to an accountant-a more prestigious and better-paying occupation. But that will, of course, require a more substantial outlay of time and money."

She looked at him curiously, not sure if she was quite brave enough to ask the obvious question.

He laughed and pushed himself away from the counter, heading back into the main part of the room. "No, it is not that I think I will tire of you that quickly," he replied, over his shoulder. He paused and frowned down at the floor. "But, given my rather precarious position, I do not think it is wise that you rely upon my help indefinitely."

She stared at him for a moment, feeling her mouth go dry as she struggled to understand the implications of what he was saying. "You're a spy" she said, finally. She took a few steps toward him. "But which side are you spying for?"

She immediately found herself backing up into the counter as he suddenly charged towards her, his arm upraised and his eyebrows wrinkled into a deep scowl. "That is not a topic that we shall ever discuss," he hissed. He extended the long, thin index finger of his right hand and pointed it between her eyes in a most threatening manner. "And if you ever mention the subject again, I shall be forced to 'Obliviate' you, and this time I promise that the process will be exhaustively thorough." His voice was steely and his expression was exceptionally stern "Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Excuse me?" he said, leaning forward.

"Yes, sir, I understand," she whispered.

"Very well," he said, pivoting and striding back to the center of the room. "I was pleased to stumble upon a clean and vacant flat on such short notice," he said, changing the subject abruptly and his voice suddenly taking on a light and conversational tone. "I expect that it will be suitable."

Waving his hand at the rather barren room, he continued: "I have arranged for some more furniture, of course. But, unfortunately, it can not be delivered until tomorrow."

She laughed. "You must have been fairly certain that I would take you up on your offer," she said, walking over to him.

"Naturally," he replied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "Besides the fact that I doubted you had much choice in the matter, and that you would realize it was a logical solution for both of us, I did rather flatter myself that my company is not altogether unpleasant to you." He allowed himself a quick glance in the direction of the bedroom. "Especially considering how you responded to my attentions during my initial visit."

"You are an arrogant-" she paused and bit back the word, "man," she ended up whispering, shaking her head in amusement, and trying to ignore the warmth that was beginning to spread across her cheeks.

"I believe the term you used last time was 'bastard'," he noted, striding over to her. "I most certainly am," he said, bending down, so that his lips were almost touching hers. "And I am also a marvelous lover," he whispered.

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, expecting him to kiss her. But she waited in vain, and when she finally opened her eyes, she saw that he had straightened up and was gazing down at her with an amused expression.

"What?" she said, feeling suddenly uneasy.

"I think it is about time I relieve you of your decidedly unflattering headwear," he said.

She raised her hand to her head and belatedly realized that she was still wearing the bandage on her head.

"Oh, Merlin," she murmured, slumping tiredly as she realized how ridiculous she must look.

"Come," he said, walking past her and climbing up the staircase. When she managed to make it up the steps, she saw that he had already transported his medical supplies and that they were placed on the floor of the sleeping area. He reached down to retrieve the scissors and one of the bottles and then sat down on the bed, indicating that she should sit on his lap.

She heard him cut through the layer of bandages and throw them to the side, his fingers lightly running against the scar on the back of her head. She felt a sudden wetness upon the area, followed by a slight warming sensation and then she heard him begin to laugh.

"What's so funny?' she asked.

"Ah," he said, still chuckling, "It appears that my hair-growing potion works very well. But, regrettably-"

He brought his left hand over her shoulder and she looked down to see what he was holding. And then she began to laugh as well. Her hair had grown within seconds to more than a foot in length. Unfortunately, it appeared that it had grown out in her natural color, which looked decidedly odd when mixed in with the platinum tresses. Of course, the fact that there was still some dried blood upon the lighter parts of her hair made it even more ludicrous.

"I definitely need a good shampoo," she noted.

"Yes," he replied, brushing her locks back behind her shoulder again. "And I think a nice, warm bath is called for as well." He picked up his wand from the bed and waved it at the wall behind them, and she could hear water running into a tub. Then he gently placed the wand back down upon the cover and she dropped her head and watched as he raised his hands to the lacing at her neckline.

She took in a deep breath as his grasped both sides of the bow and gently pulled it open, pausing for a moment before undoing the underlying knot. And then, with deliberate slowness, he began to tug at her bodice, loosening the string and widening the opening until he suddenly thrust it open and pulled it over her shoulders and down to her waist, revealing her upper torso. She gasped as he kissed her neck and moved his hands up to caress her exposed breasts, closing her eyes and beginning to moan softly as he began to knead at the firm flesh. Arching against him, she felt his own body harden in response.

But suddenly, he was pushing her to a standing position, and the next thing she knew the nightgown had slipped completely off onto the ground, and his fingers were pulling impatiently at her underwear. She turned around and placed her hands upon his shoulders, stepping out of the discarded garments. His mouth sought and found her nipples, and she heard him murmur, "Such ripe, lucious pippins," as he began to suck and lick at them.

She threw her head back as his right hand massaged her hip as his left began to stroke between her legs. She moaned as he began to fondle her there, and then his hand was removed and he was on his feet as well. Before she could protest, she felt him lifting her up into his arms and striding towards the bathroom, impatiently kicking the door open.

He slowly lowered her down into the steaming basin and she groaned in pleasure as her aching limbs responded gratefully to the blissful sensation of being immersed in the warm water. She settled back in contentment with her eyes closed as he reached over to shut off the taps. Then her nose caught the faint scent of lavender, and she opened her eyes to see that he had rolled up his sleeves and was soaping up a large, soft sponge.

"It appears that you require a thorough cleansing," he said, smiling broadly. "And I assure you that I shall not be nearly as hasty as I was the last time."

She swallowed and slowly raised her legs so that her feet were propped up on the sides of the tub. He laughed heartily, and then shook his head as he moved closer to her head.

"And you appear much more anxious to receive my attentions," he noted. "But I think we shall start at this end and work our way downwards.".

She closed her eyes again as she felt him rub the sponge against her cheeks, followed by his fingertips smoothing the lather all over her face, raising her chin so that he could scrub her neck as well. She heard him dipping the sponge into the water and then felt the warm liquid trickle down her face as he rinsed her off. Opening her eyes, she allowed him to press her forward and reached out to get her hair out of the way as he began to clean her back. He smoothed the soap all over her skin, his fingertips running lightly along her sides without quite allowing them to go far enough to reach her breasts.

Then she sat back and smiled as he began to soap up her left arm, working his way carefully down to her hands and fingers. Rinsing her off, he repeated the motion with her right arm. She sat up on her knees, raising most of her body out of the water as he stopped to apply more soap. He ran the sponge quickly down the center of her chest and thoroughly cleansed her belly before finally reaching over and beginning to spread the bubbles over her breasts. After a moment, he threw the sponge down again, and began to use his thumbs and fingers to play with her nipples, stroking and milking them firmly. And then he removed his hands and she sputtered as he rinsed her off with a large splash of water. But before she could pull too far away, she felt his hands soaping up her pubic hair and moaned again as his fingers began to press against her there.

Without warning, he withdrew his hand and pushed her back down. She had to struggle to keep her head above water as he suddenly grabbed her leg and pulled it upward, tickling the bottom of her foot with the sponge.

"Stop it!' she yelled, in between her giggles.

"Ticklish are we?" he murmured.

"Yes, stop, please!" she shrieked.

With a grin, he turned his attention to working the lather up her legs, teasing her by slowing down his pace as he rose up her thigh. He carefully rinsed her off before beginning to soap up the other limb. After rinsing off that side, she felt his hands slowly creep up towards her torso again and then she looked down as she felt his fingers stop and slowly circle around a spot on her chest. It was one of the bite marks, much lighter and less distinct that it had been, but still visible.

"The bastards," he repeated. He raised his face and stared into her eyes. "I swear that if Malfoy ever touches you again, I shall flay him alive," he said, his teeth clenched in anger.

"Do I mean that much to you?" she asked, immediately regretting the question as she saw the smirk upon his face.

"I told you I was quite proprietary, didn't I?" he replied. "I happen to be very particular about how my belongings are treated, and I regard you as mine now."

She lowered her eyes and he saw just the hint of a shiver run through her body. Sitting back upon legs, he frowned for a moment. "Come now, woman. Considering all the time and money I have expended on you thus far, you can hardly deny that you are in my debt, or that you have nothing but your body with which to repay me."

"Therefore," he said, raising his hand and gently tracing the outline of her lips. "These are now mine," he proclaimed, softly. His hands trailed downward and caressed her breasts again. "These are mine," he repeated, as she gasped in pleasure again. After a moment, his hands moved even farther down and she felt his index finger thrust into her. "This is reserved for my use alone now," he murmured. "And this-"

She moaned and there was a large splash of water as her legs jerked spasmodically as he began to rub firmly against her clitoris, "This is no longer yours, it belongs to me, does it not?"

He suddenly stilled the movement of his hand.

"Does it not?" he repeated, slowly.

"Yes," she gasped.

He frowned slightly, but before he could object, she had already corrected herself. "Yes, sir," she whispered.

"But, I suppose I might allow you to play with it-occasionally-if I am unable to attend to you as often as I would wish." He laughed softly and began to caress her again. "You may not like me, you know," he said, quietly, raising his other hand to play with her nipple, "But I think you need me." His hand went up to her neck and he gently forced her forward so that he could kiss her again. "I have awakened something in you that you have never experienced with another man, haven't I?"

"Yes, sir, you have," she answered, and then groaned in disappointment as his hand was suddenly withdrawn again.

"But, first things first," he declared. "You do need a shampoo as well."

He indicated that she should turn around and get on her knees. He reached out to turn the warm water on again, diverting the flow to the spray attachment and began to wet down her hair. She closed her eyes and smiled as he dampened her thick hair, and then poured a large measure of shampoo upon the top of her head. She felt him smooth the soap through her tresses, stopping to work diligently upon the clumps that had formed as the result of the dried blood.

"Perhaps it would be easier to accomplish this with magic," he muttered. But, he kept scrubbing at it with his fingers, and she felt the knots slowly begin to loosen. Then he rinsed it thoroughly before adding another dollop of the shampoo. This time, he concentrated upon massaging her scalp, gently caressing her temples and the back of her neck as he worked the lather through her tresses. He took a long time to rinse her hair carefully after this second cleansing and then she felt a curious, tingling sensation for a moment. Before she could ask him about it, however, she felt him wrap a towel around her hair and secure it, like a turban, on her head. Then she heard him open the drain and she stood up, allowing him to use the sprayer to rinse her body off completely before he turned off the water and wrapped a large towel around her.

Within seconds he had picked her up and carried her back to the other room, his murmured spell causing the bed coverings to suddenly fold down to the bottom of the bed. This time, however, instead of lowering her slowly and softly, he carelessly tossed her onto the bed. Then he turned to seat himself upon the edge and began to remove his shoes and socks. Raising his fingers to his shirt, he swiftly began to undo the buttons. As he shrugged it off, he stood up and glanced back over his shoulder at her.

"Dry yourself!" ordered, as he turned his attention to his fly. "Do you really expect me to do everything for you?" he added, impatiently.

She shook her head and began to towel herself off as she raised up into a sitting position.

He finished removing the rest of his clothes and climbed back upon the bed. She had managed to dry her arms and legs and was just beginning to dry off her torso when she heard him speak again.

"It is so nice to see your skin so warm and pink again," he said. She glanced over at him and swallowed when she saw that his hand was stroking his rapidly-hardening member. "You were rather pale and cold the other night when I began heal you."

She opened her mouth to speak but found that no words were coming to her. Then she saw his hands reaching out impatiently to grab the cloth away from her, at the same time pushing her down upon her back. She stared up at the ceiling as she felt his nimble fingers move over the rest of her body, drying her off.

"Well, now" he murmured, as he put his hands between her legs and spread them farther apart. "Let me see wherein."

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath as she felt his fingers massage against the tender skin of her inner thighs and felt his warm breath drift down over her stomach. She gasped and moaned in pleasure as she felt him raise his thumbs to her labia and spread her gently, and then suddenly thrust in his tongue and lick her firmly.

"Yes," he said, as he pulled away from her, "That appears to be functioning normally again."

She sighed in frustration for a moment, until she felt him move to lie on top of her, and bent down to kiss her. She opened her mouth eagerly to suck on his tongue and stroked his back and shoulders as he put his arms around her, pressing her against him. His erection was throbbing against her stomach now, and she tried, unsuccessfully, to work her hand in between their bodies so that she could caress it.

"Not yet, you hopeless Hufflepuff," he scolded her, drawing away from her again. He smiled down at her as he began to slowly run his hands up and down her body, pausing only briefly when his palms played against the sharp, taut peaks of her nipples. "You seemed to rather object to my claiming of you." He abruptly removed his hands and his smile broadened as she moaned again.

"Can you really deny that you are mine now?" he said, staring down into her eyes.

"No," she answered, shivering again as his fingers slowly wandered back down between her legs. She felt him raise his hand away from her body and when she opened her eyes she saw that his eyebrow was cocked mockingly as he waited for her to address him properly.

"No, sir," she added, hastily.

As a reward, he thrust his fingers into her and began to slowly circle her clitoris with his thumb as he moved his hand back and forth.

"Then say it," he commanded. "Say that you are mine, that you belong to me now."

"I am yours," she repeated and then gasped as her back arched and she responded once again to his touch.

"And?" he prompted, ceasing his movements.

"I belong to you," she murmured.

"Very good," he said, removing his hand. When she groaned once more in protest, he raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "I wish to seek my pleasure first," he said, quietly.

"Now, then," he said, rolling over to his side and allowing his fingers to trail over her body again. "Of what kind should this cock come of?" This time he allowed her to reach down and begin stroking him eagerly, closing his eyes and taking in deep breaths as she moved her hand up and down.

"Enough," he said, and the next thing she knew he was pushing her onto her stomach. She shuddered for a moment, until she realized that he was using the towel to wipe off the last bit of dampness from her shoulders and back. He tossed the cloth aside and began to massage her gently, his hands moving slowly down from her shoulders to her calves. She closed her eyes gave herself up to the sensation, feeling her muscles soften and relax. But then she felt his hands move in between her thighs again, teasing and tormenting her. She raised up slightly so that she could press up more firmly against him, but was rewarded with a sharp slap upon her buttocks for her impudence.

"Patience once more, while our compact is urged," he whispered into her ear, covering her body with his own.

"I can't. Please," she begged him, "After all, I've been so ill-"

He laughed softly and permitted her to turn over. "Yes, but you have spent a vast majority of your time in bed over the past months, have you not? I should think you would be quite well rested and not at all eager for this."

He began to gently tease her with the tip of his cock, nudging slowly and gently against her.

"Begin you to grow on me?", he murmured, and then suddenly thrust forward into her warm, welcoming slickness.

He had already begun to stroke back and forth when she suddenly stiffened and pressed her hands against his shoulders.

He paused, astounded at her apparent rejection until she whispered, "Didn't you need to do the contraception spell?"

He laughed and brought his hands up to her breasts as he resumed his deep thrusting. "Why do you think I left that glass of Contraceptive Potion out for you this morning?" he chided.

She sighed in both relief and excitation as she lifted her legs to circle around his waist and began to dig into the skin of his lower back with her long, sharp fingernails. He closed his eyes and rose up to support himself on his hands as his hips began heaving wildly for a moment. And then with great self control he forced himself to slow and then to stop for a moment, bending back down to kiss her upon the lips. She responded eagerly, and he felt her muscles spasm tightly around him as if they were anxiously waiting for the lunging to continue.

He broke away and reached out to take hold of her hands, entwining his fingers around hers and forcing her arms down upon the bed. Raising himself up, he began to savagely thrust inside of her, and this time his strokes were punctuated with his own grunts and groans. She struggled slightly against him, trying to free her hands so that she could touch him, but he held her too firmly. She finally gave up and contented herself with bucking up against him with her hips, finding a sweet satisfaction in the fact that it prompted him to open his eyes and release her arms. His hands moved down to embrace her body as his body stiffened and his back arched forward.

She lay quietly underneath him for a moment, panting with exertion and as yet unfulfilled herself. His hands were still clasped around her and she slowly began to move her legs back down to the bed when he suddenly released his grip and rose to his knees. His fingers trailed slowly down her body and she raised her knees and spread her legs wider as she felt his fingertips dip back into her, exploring the hot wetness that was now his as well as hers. Watching her face carefully, he began to massage the stimulated nub with two fingers of his right hand while his left hand cupped underneath her buttocks and lifted her up slightly. After a few moments of gentle massaging he brought his thumb down and began to rub more firmly. She started to whimper, and her fingers and toes began to jerk uncontrollably.

He bent down over her and began to suck and kiss at her neck. "Say my name," he ordered.

"Professor," she moaned.

His hand ceased its movement.

"My name," he hissed.

She cried out in despair. "I don't know, I can't remember-"

He licked at her lips. "Severus," he whispered.

"Severus," she repeated. "Oh, gods!" she exclaimed, as his fingers started moving again, and then abruptly stopped. "Severus, Severus," she corrected.

He stopped again, and she felt his fingertips trail across her erect nipples.

"Who do these belong to?" he asked, quietly.

"Severus," she replied, reaching out for his hand and urging him to move downward again.

"And who does this belong to?" he asked as he used his palm to rub against her pussy.

"Severus," she moaned.

He laughed quietly and slowly allowed his hand to return to her throbbing nub again. For several minutes the game continued, her moans interspersed with the shouting of his name as he removed his hand and touched another area of her body, repeating the question. He expertly brought her to the edge several times, varying the intensity and speed of the stimulation, but always pulling back before she reached full gratification until she was beginning to cry with frustration. She heard him laughing quietly as he finally continued the motion long enough for her to find release, her hands clawing at his chest and her heels digging into the mattress as her hips jerked forward.

She lay back and panted, feeling suddenly exhausted as she felt him cover her with blankets and gather her to his body, her head lying tiredly against his chest. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she felt him unravel the turban and murmur a drying spell for her hair. For just a moment, she would even have sworn that he had planted a light kiss upon the top of her head.

*************************************************************

When she awoke, she found that he had already arisen and left the bed. She sat up slowly and stretched, noticing that there was a faint glow of light coming from the other room. As she pushed the covers away, she saw that there was a long, warm-looking robe of soft, white chenille hanging from the bedpost. She smiled and wrapped it around her as she headed into the bathroom, absent-mindedly scratching her head as she made her way. She abruptly stopped in mid step and stared down at her left shoulder, where a mass of curls was standing out in stark contrast to the white fabric. She gazed at it in shock for a moment, having to pull upon the end before being assured that the dark hair was, indeed, attached at the other end to her scalp. And then she hurried into the bathroom and stood before the mirror, straining to see her reflection through the gloom of the unlit room. After a few seconds, she turned and began to walk swiftly back through the room and down the stairs.

While she had been sleeping, he apparently had decided that a bit of furnishing was necessary, for two large leather chairs were now placed in the middle of the floor. There were also several crates situated about the room, and he was using one as a table, for there was a collection of papers and books already stacked upon it. He watched curiously as she approached him, clearly noticing that she was quite agitated.

"What is this?" she asked, angrily holding a large handful of her locks to the side.

"I believe it is called hair," he said, tilting his head back and crossing his legs as he regarded her with a smile.

"But why is it this color?" she asked.

He shrugged and spread out his hands, "Do you really expect me to believe that you thought that your previous hair coloring was at all complimentary to you?"

"But, this isn't my natural coloring!" she protested.

"Of course not," he snorted. "This is much more attractive than your own hair color."

"It's also almost a foot longer than it was before you changed it! You could at least have asked before you did this. How am I supposed to care for this mop?"

As she perched her hands angrily upon her hips, he suddenly rose to his feet and she reluctantly allowed him to put his arms around her. He clucked his tongue soothingly as he rubbed her back with one hand while gently brushing the other through her hair.

"Wear these for my sake," he said, slowly drawing his fingers through the curls. He dropped both hands down to her bum and patted her affectionately before he drew back slightly. "You must realize that it is imperative that you be disguised as well as possible. There is the remote chance that Malfoy or another of my comrades could journey to this section of London some day. I think it best that you be rather unrecognizable, don't you?" He moved his hand to reach out and grasp her chin firmly. "After all, I did not change the texture, and I did carefully choose the color. It really goes quite well with your complexion and eye coloring."

"I don't seem to have much choice anyway," she grumbled.

For a moment, his fingers tightened around her chin. And then he released his hold and stepped back, shaking his head. "You do have a choice. If you do not like the conditions under which you are here, you are perfectly free to leave this flat-and me-at any time," he said. "But you will also be leaving any hope of my protection if you do so," he added, quietly.

She bit her lip and studied the floor for a moment before reluctantly nodding her head. She forced a grim smile onto her face. "At the very least," she said, her fingers undoing the belt at her waist and pulling the robe open, "You could have made me 'match' again."

He chuckled and a moment later his wand was in his hand. "Yes, I did mean to correct that before I left," he admitted. "Stand still, please." He pointed his wand at her, murmured a spell and within a few seconds had completed the transformation.

"Just what other changes are you planning on making to my body?" she asked, as she closed her robe and redid the tie.

"None at the moment," he assured her. "I am quite satisfied with all of your other attributes. But," he said, gesturing towards the makeshift table, "There are other modifications, of course."

"Oh," she said, sliding into the other chair. "Like what?"

"I have obtained the necessary papers for you," he said, handing the large stack to her.

"Papers?" she repeated.

He nodded. "Yes, Muggles seem to require an extensive amount of documentation."

She began to leaf through the papers, and frowned. "You mean I have to have a new name as well?"

"Of course," he replied, idly brushing a bit of lint off of his trousers as he waited for her to continue.

"Rosalind Alice Galatea," she said slowly, reading the name off of one the documents.

"Yes," he said. "Not the most flattering of initials, but considering the fact that you have lived the first part of your life as Celia Octavia Graham, I did not think you would object too much."

"I have the feeling this means something," she said, glaring back at him.

"Rosalind is the name of a Shakespearean heroine," he said. He stopped and pointed a finger at one of the other large crates in the room. "By the way, that box contains a four volume "Complete Works of Shakespeare" among other literary works. I do suggest that you endeavor to read at least a few of the plays by the time I come back to visit you again. You might find one of the comedies especially enlightening."

She frowned and stared back down at the paper. "Galatea?"

He sighed and cast his eyes upward. "Dear me, you apparently have no appreciation of Greek mythology either. Let us just say that, as I intend to 'sculpt' you into a better woman, it appeared eminently appropriate."

"And Alice?"

He smiled and raised his wand again. As she watched, the name 'Alice' emerged from the end of his wand and hung, suspended in mid-air. After a few moments, the letters began to rearrange themselves, reforming themselves into the name 'Celia'.

She nodded her head and allowed herself a small grin. "I see. I am still Celia, though somewhat hidden."

"Indeed," he said, pointing his wand at the letters and causing them to disappear completely. "And, after all, 'Aliena' might have been just a bit too presumptuous."

"So," she said quietly, folding her arms across her chest. "What do we do now?"

"I was about to suggest a drink," he said, rising to his feet. "I have our dinner warming in the oven," he added, as he opened the cupboard and reached in to remove the cognac and the glasses. He poured out the liquor and walked back to where she was sitting. She silently accepted the glass and held it up to his as he proposed a toast.

"To Rosalind Alice Galatea," he said.

She took a small sip from her glass and then set it down upon the table, brushing back her hair behind her ears before speaking. "I really do mean to thank you, Severus," she said quietly.

"I beg your pardon?" he said, his right eyebrow jutting upward.

"Well, I mean-I know that-" she sputtered, feeling strangely uncomfortable again.

"I am afraid you misunderstood what I told you earlier," he said, his voice light and taunting.

She stared up at him, puzzled at the sudden change in his manner.

"The only time that you are allowed to address me by my first name is when we are in bed. Or," he corrected himself, with another shrug of his shoulders, "Elsewhere and joined together in intercourse. At all other times you are to address me as 'Professor' or 'Sir'."

"You're joking!" she exclaimed.

"My dear Rosalind," he said, shaking his head, "You must be aware that I never, ever joke."
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Love's Labours; Paradise Lost