XXII: Regrets and Rumination

Chapter XXII: Regrets and Rumination

There was a flurry of midnight blue robes and red hair, followed by a pop that silenced the music, and Grindling stood dumbstruck, not knowing what had happened. One moment, he had held Morgana in his arms, and the next...

'What on earth happened, Grindling?'

He blinked and stared at Narcissa. Where she had suddenly come from, he did not know. Just like he didn't know to where Morgana had Disapparated. In fact, he felt like he didn't know anything at the moment.

'One minute we were dancing,' he started, 'and the next...'

'I saw that you were dancing!' Narcissa exclaimed, equally worried and frustrated. 'I also saw that you were about to kiss!'

Grindling's eyes widened. 'Were you... spying on us, Cissy?' he brought forth.

'Spying?' Narcissa gave a short laugh. 'I'm insulted. I feel responsible for Morgana when she is in my house! I...' A faint blush appeared on her cheeks. 'I wanted to keep an eye on her.'

'You wanted to keep an eye on her?' Grindling had snapped out of his haze now, and his Ravenclaw brain started analysing the situation at hand. 'After you served an aphrodisiac for pudding?'

He was looking straight into Narcissa's eyes now. They were as blue as the sea off the shores of Cyprus.

'Did you... want us to kiss?' he asked slowly. He wouldn't be surprised, not after what Narcissa had said at dinner, that she would love to see him as Morgana's consort. And to his disappointment, his suspicion proved to be valid.

'Of course, I would have been delighted if you two had kissed!' Narcissa confirmed. 'Grindling, darling, have you not understood what this evening has been all about?'

Grindling exhaled through his nose. Oh, he understood. Only too well. But he wished he were wrong.

'So you thought I would kiss just about any young witch at the drop of a hat, Cissy?' he asked in a tone that suggested that he was hurt beyond belief. 'Did you think Morgana would want to kiss me?'

'It very much looked like you both wanted to!' Narcissa maintained. 'I saw you two dancing. I saw how tenderly you held her in your arms.'

Grindling swallowed drily. It had felt good to hold Morgana in his arms, to inhale her scent, to look into her blue eyes. But if the choice had been his, he would have chosen another witch to hold.

'I was hoping you two would like each other,' Narcissa went on. 'And you did get along so well.'

'We did,' Grindling confirmed. 'Morgana is an enchanting young witch, but... Cissy, we have only just met, and already it seems you are choosing the cutlery for our wedding! Don't you see what pressure that has put Morgana under?'

Narcissa bit her lip. 'I wanted too much too quickly, didn't I? Oh, Grindling, you do understand that I only want the best for the both of you, don't you? Two purebloods, both intelligent, good looking... You could learn to love each other, I'm sure.'

'Why would Morgana ever love me, Cissy?' Grindling asked, barely able to keep a distinct note of sadness out of his voice. 'Why would she love me when the woman I am in love with does not?'

'You're in love? You said you just took someone out for dinner. You said it was nothing serious!' Narcissa's voice was rather shrill now, quite unladylike. And she feared that she had put her hopes in the wrong wizard.

'I am not talking about the other woman, Narcissa!' Grindling said quietly. 'I am talking about you!'

'Me?' Narcissa gasped. 'Grindling, get yourself together! This must be the wine talking. Or the gu.'

But both intoxications had long since worn off, and Grindling was thinking clearer now than he had all evening. How could he have fooled himself so? How could he have come to Malfoy Manor and hope that he would do well, that he could leave behind everything he had once felt for Narcissa?

He turned his back on her and ran his hand through his ponytail, seriously considering following Morgana's example and just Disapparating. But when Narcissa gingerly put her hand in his shoulder, he knew that he would not be going anywhere that night. Not before she sent him away.

'Grindling, darling, you can't... You mustn't... Not after all this time.'

'I always have, Cissy,' he whispered, fighting the urge to turn around and look into her eyes. He would drown in those blue pools. And he knew that he would not have the strength to even try to resurface. 'Why else do you think I have not found a wife? I never wanted anyone else.'

'Grindling, we've been through this, almost eighteen years ago,' Narcissa said, tightening her grip around Grindling's shoulder. 'I made my choice back then.'

'But did you make the right choice, Cissy?' Grindling asked meaningfully and turned around, looking down at the woman he had loved for over two decades. She was still beautiful, still desirable, but she was in a position he didn't wish upon his worst enemy. 'Look where you are today.'

'My choice is not up for discussion tonight, Grindling. As I said at dinner, I learned to love Lucius. I am content.'

'Content?' Grindling asked disbelievingly. 'With having your husband in Azkaban? With you having to fend for yourself? You deserve better than that, Narcissa. You have always deserved better.'

Narcissa inhaled sharply. 'It is true; Lucius being behind bars has created certain... difficulties. Life is not easy for me now, Grindling. The name of Malfoy doesn't ring as well in people's ears as it once has. This is why I need to create something for myself. And Morgana... We've sponsored her through Hogwarts, and now I have the chance to introduce her to the Wizarding society. I can be her fairy godmother... But I cannot do this alone. I need help. I need someone to stand by her side when she takes her first steps into society. I was hoping you... You could be happy with her, Grindling. She is such a lovely young witch.'

Slowly, she took a step closer.

'Will you help me, Grindling? Will you help me make a lady out of the girl, a presentable pureblood? Will you help me?'

Yes! Grindling wanted to scream. Yes! I would do anything for you! But the words failed him as he sank into Narcissa's blue gaze.

'I need that girl to be presentable, Grindling. I need her to be sophisticated, respectable and...'

She was standing so close now that her breath tickled his lips when she spoke, and Grindling closed the gap between them, drinking from Narcissa's lips like a man dying of thirst. They were just as soft as he remembered them, just as sweet. And he did not dare let their kiss last for more than a few seconds, lest he'd never be able to pull away again.

'I need you to kiss her like you kiss me,' Narcissa whispered, her lips brushing Grindling's ever so softly, so close were they still. 'I need her to believe she is worthy of a pureblood like you.'

Grindling nodded, his breath shallow. 'For you, Cissy, I will do it. But every time I touch her, I will wish it was you.'

'I will never be far,' Narcissa promised and once more got onto her toes to reach his lips. 'I'll be right there, Grindling. Right there.'

* * *

Morgana stood in her tiny bathroom, her fingers so desperately cramped around the edges of the basin that she had broken off several nails. Her heart was racing in her chest; she felt nauseous and lightheaded and had difficulties breathing. She wanted to cry. She really did. Most probably, tears would wash away the constrictive feeling in her throat. But she couldn't. The tears that had burned in her eyes only minutes earlier had evaporated, and she stood now shaking with dry sobs and a sense of terror in her heart.

By the gods, what had she done? How low had she sunk? And how many times more would she lay her hands on a man who belonged to another woman?

A chill ran down her spine, and she once more whimpered as if she were severely wounded. She wished she were, in fact. At the moment, hurting and dying, slipping away into nothingness seemed like a favourable option. If she were dead, at least she wouldn't be able to inflict more pain on anyone.

The sound of light footsteps on the other side of the bathroom door ripped Morgana out of her dark thoughts, and she hurriedly splashed some cold water in her face, hoping it would be enough to wipe the traces of anxiety away. The very last thing she needed now was a little house-elf becoming upset because she found her mistress in a state of desperation. But the footsteps soon died away. Most probably, Silvy had heard Morgana Apparate in and had come to offer her services. But as eager as Silvy was to serve and please, she would never intrude. And as she had found the bathroom door locked, she had retreated.

With a sigh of relief, Morgana sat down on the toilet, rubbing her red eyes. What was happening at Malfoy Manor now, she wondered. Would Narcissa be angry with her for making a rather unladylike exit? And Grindling, what would he think of her? Would he think her a tease and Apparate to Charis' place to tell her what her supposedly best friend had done? That she had practically thrown herself into his arms and tried to kiss him?

But, no, that was not what had happened. It had been he who had pulled her close, he who had cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her. And she had been the one to break away. Or had it?

Morgana shook her head, desperately trying to focus. But the room seemed to start spinning around her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in her hands. The three glasses of wine were now taking their toll, and so was the tension she had been under all evening. She was too tired now and too confused to be able to remember that Grindling and she – both under the influence of alcohol and gu – had simultaneously leaned in for a kiss and that they both had pulled back just in time, both for the very same reason: Grindling because he didn't want to be unfaithful and Morgana because she didn't want to take her best friend's man. They both loved Charis too much to hurt her.

Charis. The thought of her best friend made Morgana snap her head up. She had told Dumbledore that she would gladly humiliate Draco Malfoy publicly if it meant gaining information that was of help for the Order. She had even thought she could deceive Narcissa. That, however, had proved harder than Morgana had expected, mostly because Narcissa had been kind to her. But still, Morgana had returned to the Manor. But now Narcissa had disclosed her plans, and agreeing to them would mean hurting Charis, and that was the one thing Morgana wasn't willing to do. She wanted out. And she would tell Dumbledore right away.

* * *

'You have exhausted yourself, Headmaster.'

Dumbledore shrugged tiredly, which made the frown on Snape's brow deepen.

'You know you are weak,' the Defence teacher pointed out. 'I do not see any reason for you to have late night chats with Potter.'

'I do have my reasons, Severus. Believe it or not,' Dumbledore replied quietly and accepted the goblet Snape was handing him. It contained a ruby red liquid that looked very sweet. But as Dumbledore drank, he grimaced.

'What did you expect?' asked Snape. 'Elf-made wine?'

'I was rather hoping for cherry flavour,' Dumbledore explained and put the goblet down. He still looked tired, but there was already some colour returning to his cheeks.

'Thank you, Severus,' he said. 'I feel much better already.'

Snape, however, severely doubted this, and judging from the Headmaster's slumped posture, his doubts were most probably justified.

'You need to rest, Albus,' he said, and Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at the fact that Snape used his first name. It seemed like the Head of Slytherin actually cared.

'Not just yet, Severus. I'd rather be sitting here for a little while longer. And as you are already here... Are you making any progress with our young Slytherin friend?'

Snape gave an impatient huff. 'Draco is rather... unapproachable at the moment.' And that was putting it mildly. In fact, Draco seemed downright hostile towards his Head of House. And who could blame him? His father was in Azkaban because he had failed in a Death Eater mission in which Snape had not even participated. Naturally, the boy now doubted Snape's loyalties.

The eruption of green flames in the fireplace prevented Snape from giving any more explanations, and he fully expected Dumbledore to jump off his chair in order to talk to whoever was calling him via the Floo network. But to Snape's surprise, Dumbledore didn't move, and as Morgana Belakane's voice rang out from the flames, the Headmaster only gave a feeble shake of his head. And so Snape didn't move either, and eventually, the flames died down again.

'Do you know if the girl has been to Malfoy Manor tonight?' Dumbledore asked after a while, sounding so tired that Snape had the urge to tell him that it did not matter where Morgana had been or if the Ministry of Magic was on fire. The old man needed to rest.

But Dumbledore was concerned. 'I should have answered her call. It is late, and if she couldn't wait until the morning to contact me... Severus, do you think something has happened?'

'In my opinion, Miss Belakane sounded rather composed,' Snape pointed out. But he had to admit that Dumbledore had a point. It was late, and Morgana wouldn't disturb Dumbledore on a Saturday evening if she didn't have anything important to say. Maybe something had happened. And thus, Snape did not argue when Dumbledore suggested that he'd Apparate to Grimmauld Place in case Morgana tried to get hold of Dumbledore there.

However, when Snape arrived at the Headquarter of the Order, the house was deserted.

What a waste of time, Snape thought somewhat grumpily. Of course, Morgana would not come here. She'd realise that no one, and especially not Dumbledore, would be at Grimmauld Place on a Saturday evening. Molly was with her family, and that meant there was no cake. So why would anyone hang around in this unfriendly house? He for one had no interest whatsoever to spend another minute there.

But just when he was about to open the front door to leave, Snape stopped. He was alone there tonight, a luxury which he had never before experienced. No one would notice if he had a look around.

Determinedly, he walked up the stairs, his mind focused on his goal. Tonight, he would systematically comb through Sirius Black's bedroom. After all, the man had been James Potter's best friend. If there were any pictures of Lily anywhere, then they would surely be in Black's bedroom.

But the very moment his hand closed around the door knob, he heard the front door creak.

* * *

Whilst Morgana sneaked down the dark corridors at Grimmauld Place, her mind was much clearer, and she was moving with determination. She felt much more confident as well, now that she had discarded her fancy dress and was once more wearing her black, high-collared robes. Her hair, however, still hung in curls to her shoulders. Narcissa's charm seemed to be of the lasting kind.

Outside the drawing room door, Morgana paused, huffing in frustration. She could just as well turn around now. Grimmauld Place seemed deserted, and she was not even surprised by that. Molly was obviously caring for her own family on this Saturday night, and all the other Order members must surely have their own lives to lead: Tonks and Lupin were hopefully sharing a glass of wine somewhere, and Moody was certainly polishing his Sneakoscope. And Dumbledore... well, what he was up to, Morgana could not even imagine, and she knew that hoping to find him at Grimmauld Place when she had failed to get hold of him via the Floo network had been a long shot. But still, she pushed open the door and entered the empty room. The candles on the table sprang magically to life, and Morgana sank onto a chair by the table. Maybe if she waited a while...

And sure enough, after only a few moments, she heard cat-like footsteps on the stairs. The door was pushed open with an ominous creak, and Morgana instinctively drew her wand.

'Put your wand down, you silly girl!' Snape commanded in a voice so cold that it would have made any first-year wet their pants. And Morgana flinched, thereby missing the flicker of surprise on Snape's face. The first thing he'd seen upon entering the semi-dark room had been a shock of red hair, and with his mind still on Lily, he had for a split second thought... hoped... How foolish of him!

'Sorry, sir,' Morgana muttered, stowing her wand away in the folds of her robes.

'You are aware of the time, Miss Belakane?' Snape enquired, sounding much like he did when he caught a student out of bed after curfew, and Morgana fully expected him to deduct House points or put her in detention.

'Y-yes, sir,' she stammered. 'Well, actually ... no.' She had no idea how long the dinner at the manor had lasted or how long she had been sitting in her bathroom.

'It is almost midnight,' Snape informed her. 'What are you doing here?'

I had nowhere else to go, was the first thought that popped up in Morgana's head. But of course, she wasn't going to tell Snape.

'I was hoping to get hold of Profess... of Dumbledore.'

Snape raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. 'Suffice to say, Dumbledore is not available at the present time, Miss Belakane.' With any luck, the old man was fast asleep now.

'I noticed,' Morgana replied in a weak tone and lowered her head, absentmindedly twirling a red lock between her fingers. She looked truly crestfallen, and Snape felt a stab of annoyance. Where was the self-confident witch he had once known?

Without a word, he sat down opposite her, studying her while his own face was inscrutable. He noticed that she was wearing make-up. Not much, just enough to accentuate her eyes and cheekbones. And her hair had obviously been charmed to fall in curls to her shoulders. She should wear it like this more often. She looked truly lovely.

'If you have important Order information, Miss Belakane,' Snape said, fighting hard to tear his eyes and thoughts away from those red curls, 'I suggest you tell me.'

Morgana took a deep breath, thinking how much easier it would be to talk to Dumbledore, who knew about her assignment. She had, of course, no idea just how much her former Head of House was involved in her mission. She did not know that the idea of turning her into a presentable young lady had initially been his: to use her as bait so Narcissa would willingly invite her to tea.

'I... I have been spending some time at Malfoy Manor,' she started. 'For the Order. Dumbledore was hoping I could get some information on Draco's involvement with... with Death Eaters. And now that Draco is back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore suggested I should get to know Narcissa.'

'And what,' Snape asked, 'is it that you have discovered that brings you here in the middle of the night?'

'I have discovered nothing,' Morgana replied. 'I came here to tell Dumbledore that I...' She paused and bit her lip. 'I came here to tell him that I don't want to be at the Manor anymore. I want out of this mission.'

'And why would that be?' Snape enquired, inclining his head.

Morgana swallowed. 'Narcissa... Narcissa has decided that she wants to introduce me to the elite of the Wizarding society. She wants to make a lady out of me, make sure I... associate with wizards of class.'

'And you want out because she has dragged you to the beauty parlour?' Snape asked with a sneer.

Morgana's eyes flashed dangerously. 'I want out because she is trying to make me mate!'

'Mate?' Snape's voice was impassive, but inside of him, he felt anger burning. What on earth was Narcissa up to?

'You know, have pretty little pureblood babies with a pretty pureblood wizard,' Morgana spat out, her eyes now narrowed to small slits.

And Snape clenched his jaw. This had to be a bad joke!

'I am not a piece of meat,' Morgana added hotly. 'And I am tired of being treated like one just because my parents happened to be purebloods.'

Now it was Snape's turn to narrow his eyes, and he was unable to restrain the anger that was bubbling in his chest. And as Morgana was the only person present in the room, she naturally became his target.

'Oh, I see what this is about,' he said silkily. 'You wanted Dumbledore to say, "There, there," and make you a cup of cocoa. But, in case it has escaped your attention, Miss Belakane, you chose to join the Order and to therefore accept any mission Dumbledore gives you. And you did so knowing what he put you through in your final year at Hogwarts. You did not learn your lesson.'

'I was given the mission to gain information on the Malfoys, especially on Draco's involvement with the Dark Lord. I am not going to lie down on my back and spread my legs!'

'As I recall, Miss Belakane,' Snape answered smoothly, 'you had no reservations against this particular activity the last time you visited the manor.'

Morgana's eyes widened and all colour left her face. Snape's words had been like a Bludger to the gut. And whereas she had been furious only moments ago, she now felt desolate.

'Once a slut, always a slut,' she murmured, balling her fists under the table so her nails dug painfully into her palms. She would not cry in front of Snape, even if there were already tears burning in her eyes.

'I guess I deserved that comment,' she added bitterly. 'Thank you for reminding me, sir.'

But Snape wasn't proud of his harsh words. In fact, he had regretted them even before Morgana had drawn breath to speak. But he had never been one to apologise. And he wouldn't apologise now either.

'Think for a moment, will you?' he hissed instead, his mind working feverishly as to rectify the situation. 'Do you really think the Order would let you carry another child for this mission? Do you not think there are ways of stopping you becoming pregnant?'

'I am not afraid of getting pregnant,' Morgana replied, her voice so cold that the temperature in the room seemed to drop by several degrees. 'For your information, I can't. That I conceived Lucius' child was only thanks to your potion. And it's a miracle I carried it for as long as I did.'

Nothing betrayed Snape's shock. His face was still inscrutable, and his hands still resting on the armrests of his chair. But inside, he was aflame with fury, both about the girl's fate and the coldness with which she seemed to accept it.

Slowly, Morgana rose with her hands flat against the surface of the table.

'You know what? I don't care anymore,' she said in a quiet and composed tone. 'You may tell Dumbledore that I will sleep with anyone he or Narcissa want me to. For the Order or the Dark Lord, I do not care. With one exception: I am not going to lay hands on my best friend's boyfriend.'

'What!' Snape's eyebrows shot up, and an almost triumphant sneer appeared on Morgana's lips.

'The most suitable wizard Narcissa could find for me,' she started in a low, drawling voice, 'is none other than Grindling Gibbons, who is currently dating Charis Byrne. And that, sir, is my only true issue with this mission.'

Had she had Moody's magical eye and could see through the surface of the table, Morgana would have seen Snape's knuckles whiten as he gripped the armrests of his chair. But she did not see it, so all she heard was Snape's cold voice.

'You must make your own choice, Miss Belakane. But remember: We have all had to make sacrifices for the Order. Some of us have to do things that make stealing somebody's boyfriend look like a walk in the park.'

'I am not going to hurt Charis,' Morgana said steadily. 'Not for the Order.'

'This is a war, Miss Belakane,' Snape growled, now getting to his feet as well. 'Do you think the Dark Lord would stop his actions because they might hurt someone's feelings? A broken heart is a small price to pay for victory.'

And revenge for my broken heart is the only thing that keeps me going, he added silently.

'It might be a small price for you, but the price is too high for me,' Morgana replied, unwaveringly holding his onyx gaze despite him now towering over her, fixing her with his icy stare.

Snape breathed deeply through his nose. He could see the steely determination in her blue eyes and could not help but admire the loyalty Morgana was showing for her friend. But he needed to convince her to play along somehow. He needed to ensure the Order mission continued as planned. He wasn't getting anywhere near Draco at the moment, so if they wanted to find out anything about Draco's plans to murder Dumbledore, they had to rely on Morgana to find some hints at the manor.

'Miss Belakane,' Snape started, his voice now low. 'Just because Narcissa is trying to set you up with Mr Gibbons, it does not mean you have to fall into bed with him.'

'You don't know Narcissa Malfoy too well, do you?' Morgana shot back. 'She served gu for dinner tonight. I bet the elves cast the same spell on that pudding like they do on that damned tiffin. Which, as you might remember, has quite a funny effect on people.'

Oh, he did remember. And had he been less in control of his reactions, Snape would probably have blushed at the memory.

'And at the pace Narcissa is setting,' Morgana went on, 'Grindling and I will be engaged by Christmas.'

'By which time, your mission will probably be over,' Snape answered calmly. 'With any luck, Narcissa will not have the time to go public.'

Morgana gave a frustrated sigh, and something in her eyes changed. Her determination faltered, and she looked now almost pleadingly at her former professor. 'I can't do this to Charis.'

Snape understood all too well. Charis had been through too much emotional pain, much of it at his own hands. She didn't deserve to be put through more. But as much as he cared for her, as much as he cared for both of his girls, there was no other way.

'Miss Belakane, this is nothing more than a sham, a pretence to keep up for the space of a few weeks.'

'I can't do this, sir. I simply can't.'

'Yes, you can!' Snape slammed his palm against the surface of the table, making Morgana flinch. 'Do you think Dumbledore would have given you this mission if he did not think you capable of carrying it out? He has seen what you can do. He knows you can carry out acts that others could not. Acts that others would consider immoral. Acts that require bravery and personal sacrifice. Dumbledore believes in your abilities. I believe in your abilities.' He paused, his eyes boring into hers as if he was trying to penetrate her mind. 'You are Slytherin, Morgana. Do not forget that. Do what you must, but do it cunningly. Dance with Gibbons. Flirt with him. Turn his head but play hard to get. Spin Narcissa a tale of you being too young and too innocent to take the whole thing a step further. She will understand and most probably admire you for your steadfastness.'

They looked silently at each other for a while, Snape hoping that his words had got through to Morgana whilst she was wondering how Snape could still believe in her after all the times she had failed. Not letting Grindling bed her was one thing. He was dedicated to Charis, and surely he would not even think about touching any other woman when he was not under the influence of wine and gu. But how Snape could think that she would be able to lure Narcissa into thinking that she was an inhibited virgin who was scared of a handsome wizard like Grindling Gibbons was beyond Morgana.

Little did she know that at that very moment, Narcissa Malfoy, concerned at the sudden disappearance of her new protégée, was composing a letter to her, apologising for her matchmaking schemes and inviting her to tea next Sunday to make up for it.

A/N: We ask for your patience. Real Life is keeping us busy and the next chapter is not quite done.