Back at Black Manor

Note: As always, many thanks to my beta, Blue Artemis, for her precious help, and to Ardnaxela for her scientific advice!

The picture of Lily and Severus I used in this chapter was created by the amazing Lilyhbp. It is called "Light and Darkness."

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Oddly beautiful like a black rose, and no less unsettling, the baby sprinkled with blood was stirring in his dark crib, frightened by the multitude of voices and movement in the hall. The Death Eaters were circulating between the tables in anticipation of the feast which was to follow the ritual. The Dark Lord had Disapparated immediately after fulfilling his part, and the atmosphere had become much more informal. But before the usual orgies could begin, one more rite had to be performed.

Lily listened to the wide cacophony of noise around her, gazing absently at the delicate ornaments of the tapestry on the opposite wall. All of this was like a dream – a curious, intoxicating dream. Paradoxically, it had increased the acuity of her senses instead of dazing them. She could perceive every inflection of the voices in the hall, every clink of the glasses, every billowing of the cloaks, as if she were watching the entire gathering through Omnioculars. But as soon as she felt the look of Severus' black eyes descend upon her, she roused from her reverie.

He was standing with a smile in front of the cradle, waiting. From the silence that settled in the hall, she deduced the moment had come to give the child a name. Severus had allowed her to choose it herself, and he had not interrogated her before the ritual. He considered it as a unique honor, no doubt. However, being the accomplished Legilimens he was, he should have realized that she could not care less.

Lily looked at the baby again, but it could not prevent her from pronouncing the only name she found appropriate.

"Severus."

The silence remained for a long instant, then a few giggles rose from the corners of the vast room. The Death Eaters were certainly thinking she was deeply in love with her captor. Or that she had been Imperiused, for that matter. But the dangerous flash she glimpsed in Snape's eyes told her he had understood. By giving the baby his name, she had put a distance between them. She marked the child as an enemy's son, a future Death Eater. Severus was surely the only person who had grasped the full significance of her gesture.

Their eye contact lasted but a second; the next instant, he took the baby in his arms to receive the toasts of his fellows. Lily returned to her lucid dreaming.

The small flames of the wandering lanterns were dancing lightly, projecting mysterious shadows on the walls and the floor. The air was charged with the aroma of roast meat and of a strange mixture of Croakoa, cinnamon and Bubotuber pus, which later proved to be Bellatrix Lestrange's perfume.

The clamor seemed to intensify, to double its volume as the minutes passed. Unwillingly, she turned her head to the laughing company. Some of the diners were loitering near the tables, others were sitting in relaxed postures. At this moment, all were watching Crabbe and Goyle, who had stood up with important expressions.

"Believe it or not," Goyle declared, "but we have tangi... tangible proof that Crabbe and I are better than you all! Yes, you heard me correctly! The other day, when we came to Hogwarts to congratulate Severus, we went to the fourth floor... was it the fourth floor?"

He glanced at Crabbe, who nodded with a comical seriousness.

"So, yes... we went to the fourth floor. And we found a chamber with chairs and tables and desks and boards. And there was the Mirror of Eresid..."

"Erised," Crabbe corrected gravely, while the rest of the Death Eaters were shaking with laughter.

"I know! Erised... And we looked in it. And you know what we saw? Nothing! Nothing apart from our reflections!"

"Did you look separately or simultaneously?" Rookwood asked with amusement. "Because if you looked simultaneously, you couldn't possibly see anything but your reflections. But if you looked separately and you both saw the reflection of the two of you... then that might suggest..."

There was an outburst of laughter. Crabbe and Goyle had manifestly not comprehended the joke.

"We looked at the same time and then separately!" Crabbe assured with verve. "And each time, we saw our real reflection! And ask yourself how many of you would see the same! We are the only among you who did, so we are the only who are content with their life. This is the true key to wisdom, everyone says so."

Severus raised his glass in an ironic toast, his other hand supporting the baby. "I'm sorry to ruin your illusions, gentlemen," he commented, "but I must inform you that the real Mirror of Erised was moved to the Dark Lord's residence earlier this summer. What you saw at Hogwarts a week ago was a copy without any magical property. But then again, you have such a rich imagination that you would be able to see giant donuts even in a Muggle mirror."

The explosion of laughter in the hall was deafening. Across Crabbe's and Goyle's outraged faces, Lily caught Severus' look and realized his remark was secretly addressed to her. The dark vision she had had before the birth had thus been a figment of her anguished, distressed mind. He just could not take the slightest token of disobedience without hurting her instantly.

With all the effort she was capable of, she lost herself in her daydreaming again.

A half an hour later, the time came to put the baby to bed. He passed him to her without a word, but the lust in his eyes was eloquent enough. Just a week after the birth. Why was she still surprised?

Before she left the hall, her look strayed to the table, where a mountain of presents had been amassed: expensive child's robes, male jewels, broomsticks, magical tools and an extravagant twelve hands pocket watch decorated with precious stones which was Malfoy's personal gift. He had obviously intended to show to everyone how dutiful he was as a godfather. She wondered for how many years the watch would lie in a box before the child would be able to use it.

***

After cleaning and feeding the baby, she put him in the cradle and sat on a chair beside him. Deep inside, she was vaguely ashamed of her prejudice, of her indifference towards her innocent child, of her incapacity to love him sincerely. Nothing of what she had suffered was his fault. He did not deserve the lack of affection. No child did. But she could do nothing to change it. He would not replace Harry in her heart, and thinking so was both absurd and unjust. Lily sighed unhappily. If Severus had assumed the birth would make her life easier, he had miscalculated.

She felt his hand on her arm. "Come."

Leaving the baby under the vigilant supervision of the house-elves, they went to their bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed, and he joined her immediately.

As soon as he embraced her, she felt a sudden wave of repugnance overcome her. It only grew stronger when he kissed her on the neck. She could not bear it tonight.

"Severus, no. I'm not ready."

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Her chest smoldered with fury. For one time in his life, he could tolerate her needs.

"I'm serious! I don't feel like..."

"Hush."

He pressed his lips on hers. The kiss was long and harsh, and when he released her to fondle her breasts, she fixed her look on the fireplace, trying to distract herself by watching the changing forms of the flames. After a while, though, he withdrew with an annoyed scowl and rose to bring them a drink. For a minute, Lily thought bitterly of running from the room. Of course, it would be useless and would only make him angry. She decided instead to get drunk as quickly as possible. Docilely, she took a glass from him and sipped at the crimson wine. Little by little, a feeling of warmth spread in her veins, along with the habitual flush of arousal.

"Have you been drugging me?" she whispered as he lowered her on the bed. Her body was becoming languid.

"Why would I do such a thing?" he murmured against her skin, his fingers unfastening her robe.

It meant yes. She might have known.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her torso snuggling up against his chest independently of her will. If it were true, she had nothing to blame herself for.

He stopped in surprise, looking deep in her eyes, then tore the remaining buttons from her robe with one furious movement. Visibly trying to recompose himself, he bent down to her throat to tease her with his lips and tongue. His hand sneaked to her center to stroke and stimulate her. She sighed in pleasure against his shoulder, and with the climax, she sank limply into the pillow. At her side, she heard Severus remove his clothes. He kissed her again and guided her hand to his member. She did as he wanted. With relief, she realized he had not intended to go further.

Later, they lay face-to-face under the blankets. Lily's excitement still had not entirely dissipated. The potion had to be extremely subtle and powerful, as it had long-lasting effects and did not affect pregnancy. She was sure he had been giving it to her since their very first night.

"Did you invent it?"

He was lazily playing with her hair. "Invent what?"

"The potion."

"What potion?"

Did Slytherins ever tell the truth?

"Never mind." She paused. "At least, I'm grateful you haven't made me drink Amortentia."

He moved his hand over her hip and pulled her closer. "Amortentia can only create obsession. It's ineffective and dangerous. What I want from you is love, and love comes in a natural way."

She smiled a little. What she wanted from him was freedom, and she would never get it either. Too bad for them both.

"Do you know there is no difference between love and freedom?" he asked, his eyes locked on hers. "By accepting my love, you would find happiness and fulfillment. That's what freedom is truly about."

So now, he was lecturing her about love.

"Perhaps it would be easier for me to 'accept your love' if you didn't torture me all the time."

"Torture you?" His voice sounded so incredulous that the indignation he displayed could hardly be genuine. "Good Lord, Lily, I've never tortured you. You do it yourself."

How dare he?

"Yes, you do," he affirmed drily. "Have I ever used force against you? Have I ever been rude to you? Have I ever made love to you and didn't think of you first? No, and nor will I in the future. I love you too much. You know it, as you know you need me. But you would rather drown yourself in grief, you would rather bury yourself alive than admit it. I don't blame you. You spent too much time with those twisted Gryffindors, absorbing their twisted 'principles.' It doesn't matter. I love you, and I'll help you get through this difficult period. You can always trust me."

Lily blinked several times, staring at him. A new, so far unknown fear started to fill her heart. He was planning to wash her brain.

"Good night, Severus."

She turned on her other side and burrowed into the duvet. Merlin, please, don't let him do this! In the mirror hung on the wall, she glimpsed for a second his reflection behind her. He was smiling.

***

When the Death Eaters decided to have fun, they had fun, and nothing else mattered. Unsurprisingly, no one left after the celebration was formally over. The orgies continued for a week, as did the sessions of what seemed to be little competitions of dark magic. Judging by the laughter, the explosions, the vibration and the glowing streams of light penetrating from the hall, the diners were testing their abilities to destroy objects and to recreate them again.

What astonished Lily the most was their solidarity. She had never seen any of them have a serious argument with his colleagues, or even approach them impolitely – except for Crabbe and Goyle, their buffoons. It should, however, have been impossible for a group of people without consciousness or moral sense to live in such a harmony with each other. Perhaps did they consider their pure-blood status too distinguished for common conflicts, or did they regard their group as some sort of family. But what seemed likely in Severus' case could hardly apply to Malfoy.

On the first days, Lily stayed near her son in the company of house-elves. But her seclusion became soon unbearable. Taking care not to come close to the guest's wing, she adventured into the deserted chambers, as she had often done before they had moved to Hogwarts. She thought of the first weeks she had spent in the manor: how desperate she had felt, how many times she had believed she could hear the voices of her husband and child calling her. Now, there was nothing but void. Everything around her was dead.

At the entrance to Severus' quarters, she hesitated. She had never gone there unless he had told her to. Besides, he was perfectly able to interpret such an initiative from her part as an advance. The consideration made her smile sadly, and she passed through several rooms. The doors leading to his potions laboratory and to his closet of instruments were magically sealed, but his study was unlocked. She looked at his desk. The folded parchments had clearly been enchanted, as they appeared to be articles on charms and potions.

She was going to turn away when she saw on the table something she did not expect. Two framed photographs. She came nearer and realized that the first one was her own magical portrait. The laughing girl in the Hogwarts uniform, with an armful of books, seemed to belong to another century. The other photo was much older. It depicted a strict young woman with a sullen expression and lank black hair. She was standing by a table supporting a beautiful globe of the solar system. The inscription below said, "Eileen Prince." Severus' mother.

Surprised by this unexpected display of attachment, Lily took the old photo in her hands to contemplate it. In spite of her glower, the woman's face looked fragile and melancholic. The resemblance was obvious. She put it carefully back. It was strange to see two such different portraits juxtaposed. She glanced around her, but found no other evidence of Severus' inner feelings or relationships. With a mixed sensation of emotion and discomfiture, she left as silently as she could.

***

After this revelation, Lily could not help thinking a little differently of Severus. He did have feelings after all, and he nourished a sincere affection for his mother and for herself. As much as it was possible for a Death Eater to do. She attempted to persuade herself it had no effect on her attitude towards him, but something had changed.

She found it easier that evening to respond to his caresses, and the next day, she even spent an hour with him in one of the reading rooms, where he tried to entertain her with horoscope charts. The eventual arrival of Dolohov instantaneously dampened the relaxed atmosphere, but his haughty ignoring of her was certainly better than open insults. He listened calmly to Severus' explanations, and they both started discussing the way centaurs interpreted celestial movements.

Their conversation was shortly interrupted by Malfoy, who stormed in, his face scarlet, his hair untidy, his cane brandished in the air. He was holding an exemplar of the Daily Prophet in his hand.

"Outrageous! Ignominious!" he fulminated. "I'll destroy her! I'll destroy them both!"

Snape and Dolohov shared a puzzled frown. Malfoy had not been seen in such a berserk state since the elections.

"Scandalous! Unthinkable! Obscene!" he boiled.

"What is it, Lucius?" Severus asked dispassionately.

"I'll crush them! I'll smash them!"

"Whom?"

"I'll make them regret having ever interfered in politics!"

They rose from their chairs and approached him carefully, each seizing one of his arms to immobilize him.

"All right, Lucius, calm down," Dolohov admonished. It was no use.

"I won't calm down! I'm going to..." Malfoy flicked his cane and nearly struck his friends, who dodged at the last second.

"Calm down, I said."

"No! I'll destr..."

Without further ado Severus slapped him brutally across the face. Malfoy staggered, but to Lily's surprise, he took no offense. The blow seemed to bring him back to reality.

"Thank you," he growled, taking a deep breath and righting his disheveled hair.

"No problem. What happened?"

"Umbridge. Umbridge and her hack, Rita Skeeter. They lashed out at my father again. Just look."

He flung the newspaper on the table, panting furiously. "They can't handle the fact that he is better than that toad. And they won't admit she was cheating during the elections, so they dish the dirt on him."

He exhaled nervously, and his voice became utterly hysterical. "How am I supposed to come before the Dark Lord now? How can I show up in front of my colleagues? They will mock me! The Malfoys will be figures of fun like some vulgar scum..."

Snape and Dolohov flew over the text. When they finished, they exchanged weary looks.

"Let's go, Lucius," Severus said, propping Malfoy up with Dolohov's help. "You're going to take a calming potion."

"I swear by my great-grandfather, Leopold Malfoy," the blond wizard snarled as they were hauling him out, "that I'll Transfigure that miserable little journalist into the insect she truly is, and then I'll tear all her miserable little legs off, one by one..."

"Come on." They dragged him out of the room.

"... and then I'll crush her with my boot! As to Umbridge..."

His voice gradually faded away. Astounded, Lily bent over the table and looked at the article. The title formed itself with large font: Abraxas Malfoy: fanatic or lunatic?

Snape came back a quarter hour later. He threw the newspaper away with a conspiratorial shake of his head. "Conceited paranoiacs."

Lily forced herself to smile.

"Now then," he purred, bypassing the table, "how about a little game of chess in our bedroom, where no Malfoy would disturb us? I think we should tell the elves to bring us some refreshments."

He gave her his hand and pulled her on her feet, placing a small kiss on her hair. Lily felt torn between a distrustful unease and a vague pleasure. Despite being disconcerted, following him was somewhat easier than she would have liked to admit.

Several hours later, she lay in his arms in a bed strewn with chess pieces, grapes and Chocolate Cauldrons. His eyes never left hers as he stroked her face.

"I wish all our evenings were like this," he whispered. "Don't you?"

She said nothing, but her cheeks became pink.

***

This could not be happening. This should not be happening. How could two portraits have made such an effect on her?

In truth, Lily sensed she could not do otherwise. She was so tired of suffering that succumbing to the necessity of loving and of feeling loved was inexorable. It was the only way to avoid the madness. And this was far more pressing than her self-esteem. Reminding herself of the atrocities he had committed only made things worse.

The baby's cries distracted her from her tormenting reflections. As Lily started breastfeeding him, she thought that, ironically, the name she had given him, hoping it would keep distance between them, could end up doing quite the opposite.

Once he fell asleep, she felt the urge to take a walk to ease her anxiety. As if they were magically drawing her to them, she set off to Severus' chambers again. Inwardly, she expected to find there something that would either justify the change of her mind, or help her free herself from her dangerous new inclination.

The minute she entered his quarters, she stopped abruptly. On the sofa, an elegant female gown was thrown carelessly. Lily stared at it. It looked familiar. It belonged to Narcissa Malfoy. Comprehension made her heart freeze. She raised her eyes at the aperture of the door, but her feet seemed to have grown into the ground. Served her right for having dared to think – if only for a moment – about forgiving him. More, about loving him! She had had it coming, and she would expiate her fault. Her teeth clenched, she headed for Snape's private bedroom, ready to endure the humiliation she deserved. At the doorstep, she glanced in discreetly.

He was sitting in front of the fireplace, turning his back to her. By his side, Narcissa was standing, dressed in a clinging black corset dress with long dark gloves. Her fair hair was loose, and she was wearing no jewels. She was evidently trying to reason with him as she said, "Lucius won't say a word, I guarantee. He, too, is sorry to see you so unhappy."

"I don't need your pity." His voice was chilling, and he had made no movement towards the blonde witch.

"Who talks about pity? You just don't deserve this! Tearing yourself apart for a pathetic Mudblood who isn't even good enough to..."

His outburst was as sudden as it was violent. "Don't you talk about her like that!"

She started, but did not retreat. "All right, you might like her, but it's not a reason to ruin your life and to throw your best years away. You are young and attractive, Severus. You are more powerful than most wizards are by the end of their lives. Don't give your life up. You can have everything you want. Even more."

She went closer, swaying her hips sensually, and laid her hand on his arm. He did not budge.

"I assure you," she whispered, "any witch would be honored to do your bidding. Any witch would be... delighted to do your bidding."

Unable to draw any reaction from him, she continued, "You don't have to change anything. You want to keep her – it's all right, she is the mother of your child. But you don't have to suffer any more. Just let yourself go. You'll see, your life will be much better." She dropped on her knees beside his seat and breathed in addition, "I'm ready to show you just how much better it can be."

There was a long silence. Lily listened, holding her breath. When Severus spoke, she felt an inexplicable relief.

"My life will be better when I have her love. Only then."

Narcissa inhaled sharply and stood up. She looked at him with a hurt expression, yet still did not turn away. "Don't be a fool, Severus."

"Leave me alone."

Her face blushed, and she took a few steps back, but manifestly, desire was overwhelming her.

"Three years ago, it was I who told you that," she reminded him haughtily. "Remember? And remember what you answered? But eventually, I didn't reject you!"

"And do you think I would have sought you out if I had had Lily?" he snapped. "Do you?"

This was too much for Narcissa's pride. She grabbed her silky scarf from the chair and went hastily to the door opposite the one Lily was hiding behind. Before exiting the room, she considered him coolly.

"She will never love you!" she declared with grudge. "She will dream of Potter for the rest of her pitiful life, and there is nothing you can do about it!"

Severus sprang from his armchair with such a terrible look that she ran away without another word. Lily saw him strain to contain himself and turn to the hearth. He stood there for minutes, silent, motionless. Finally, she felt she could not stand the tension any longer. She approached him quietly and stroked his shoulder. When he saw her, his eyes lit up, and he clasped her in his arms. She hesitated, then reciprocated his embrace.

"I want you so much," he whispered in her ear.

"I know." It was the gentlest answer she could think of.

He raised her face up and captured her lips with his. His hands were caressing her hair and her back, and when he moved to suck lightly on her earlobe, she felt a tingle of pleasure run through her loins.

"Would you like to resume our little chess session?" he asked, nuzzling her neck.

She nodded reluctantly.

"Then why don't we do it here? I'll tell an elf to bring us something to eat." He smiled at her. "Meanwhile, do you think you could put on your satin nightgown? Please, my love. It looks so beautiful on you."

The nightgown was red, as were all her clothes, but this would probably never change. She nodded again.

"I'll be waiting for you," he said, kissing her once more.

Lily entered the corridor leading to her own chambers, ashamed to have accepted, but unable to chase away a tiny wave of excitement. Suddenly, she heard Narcissa's voice again. It was carrying from one of the half-open doors. She quickened her pace to pass as swiftly as she could. But then, she caught a fragment of a sentence she had heard a moment sooner and stopped in astonishment.

"And then I cried, 'She will never love you! She will dream of Potter for the rest of her pitiful life, and there is nothing you can do about it!' And he leaped from his seat with that funny expression we practiced all afternoon, and I ran away. I came back about five minutes later to see how it progressed, and what do you think? She was kissing him! You would say they were glued to each other!"

Malfoy's laughter seemed to last for ages.

"Gryffindors!" he exclaimed. "See what a cloying scene can do to them? I told him he should have tried it months ago. Come here, my little actress!"

"Oh, Lu, tickle me here too!"

Lily kept standing there without motion, her arms dropping limply by her sides. Only when the giggles in the room began to increase in volume, her mind woke from its stupor, and she burst into an open chamber, where she huddled up on a sofa. What had she done to deserve this? She thought with a deep sadness beyond all tears that the two portraits had surely been placed on his desk on purpose. It could not have been a coincidence. How many new ploys would he use to make her fall in love with him? And how many more would she be able to take before she broke or went completely insane?

After a long instant of mental blankness, she rose to retire to her rooms, but realized it was there Severus would look for her first. He would end up finding her anyway, but she wanted to postpone that moment as much as possible. She had better stay where she was.

A few minutes later, angry cries resounded through the whole corridor, startling Lily in her desolation. It was him.

"I suppose it was difficult to close the door?!"

"Sorry, Severus, we didn't know she would listen at the doorstep."

"I could hear your games at the rear of my quarters!"

"We're used to the Silencing Charm. You should put it on your doors too."

Narcissa intervened. "What's the fuss about, Severus? Obliviate her, and then we'll play it again! I love being an actress!"

"Yes, or just make her forget our conversation. After all, you've done it hundreds of times."

***

Lily could not deny the truth any more: her resistance was dying down. As if her sorrow had not been enough, she was now afflicted by a tremendous feeling of guilt and the growing desire to open herself to Severus. It was torturing her without respite, not leaving her a moment to rest.

The despair he had shown while refusing Narcissa's advances had made Lily understand he had been suffering too. He had desired her for years, vainly, hopelessly.

He had never been so gentle with her before. That night, he had been pampering her with attention, with caressing, with sweets. When she had fallen asleep, she had almost been ready to throw her barriers to the winds. In the morning, she was cursing herself for her weakness.

By the end of the following day, Lily could not bear it any longer. The anguish had to stop, even if it meant she would have to bury her self-respect.

Her eyes filled with tears of shame, but her breast heaving with relief, she ran to his rooms again.

***

"Merlin's robe! Who would have thought you had such a literary talent, Severus?"

Malfoy's voice was full of amusement.

"Did you imagine it yourself?"

"Love was inspiring me."

"Oh, I'll remember this one! And the one about the petals. Cissy likes this kind of repartee..."

Their steps faded away. Lily got into the study the two Death Eaters had just left, feverish, anxious.

There they were, the two portraits, just as she remembered them. She came closer, her heart pulsing with an odd, ridiculous satisfaction. Without any reason, she wanted to smile at the thoughtful young woman on the photo, to cheer her up, to hug her. Perhaps she had really lost her mind.

She backed away and collided with something rough behind her. It was the Pensieve on its carved stone stand. Silvery memories were swirling on the cloud-like surface. Severus' memories. Without questioning herself, without thinking twice, without thinking at all, she plunged into the depths of the magical basin.

"Is it merely an impression, or have your antlers grown longer since last night, Potter?"

The infernal hall at Malfoy Manor, the cage. The stag and the dog crouching behind the bars. Snape's soft, derisive intonations.

"Horns are a symbol of cuckolds. Since one's Animagus form reflects one's true nature, isn't it an interesting coincidence that yours is horned?"

A pause for effect.

"Actually, you should be grateful, Potter. Your wife gave herself to me, hoping I would spare your worthless life. And yours, of course, Black. It almost broke my heart to refuse the first thing she had ever asked me for, but at least, I gave her pleasure. It began when she laid her beautiful hands around my neck to kiss me on the lips... Oh, no, Potter, don't turn your back on me. You are going to listen until the end, or I'll show you the entire intercourse through Legilimency. Believe me, you won't like it. Petrificus Totalus. That's better."

A sinister smirk at the frozen stag. Ferocious growls from the dog.

"So we kissed. Her lips felt like petals of a rose: so soft, so pink, so sweet. Without breaking the kiss, she gently pushed me down onto the mattress and unfastened my robes. I felt those delicate lips slide over my neck, then over my chest. I couldn't help groaning when her little tongue moved over my nipple. I'll show you this, it's worth seeing: Legilimens. Take notice of the care she took to make my pleasure as intense as possible.

"All this time, she was straddling me, and feeling her firm body on mine filled my cock with a desire I had never experienced before. But I had to wait a little longer. She bent her head over my stomach, leaving sweet little kisses on her way down, and slowly, very slowly unbuttoned my trousers. You can imagine how hard I was by then. She took my cock in her hand to stroke it, first tenderly, lovingly, than harder. And when she stooped down to encircle it with her lips, I thought I would – be quiet, Black – melt and become one big receptor of pleasure. Like a string vibrating under the musician's skillful fingers. Legilimens.

"The most mesmerizing thing, though, was the innocence in her eyes when she glanced at me. With her lips closed around my cock, her auburn locks tickling my hips, her gorgeous breasts shining through the red fabric of her nightgown, she was still as pure as a virgin. Those emerald eyes looked at me with such trust, such hope that I would take pity on you. As if you deserved it! You're getting on my nerves, Black. Langlock! Hmm, I've never tried this spell on animals yet."

A ruthless smile, and Severus began to walk unhurriedly around the cage, letting his voice caress his victims like a flow of air.

"My orgasm lasted for an eternity. I doubt you have ever felt something comparable, Potter. When my vision returned, a charming surprise was awaiting me. I saw my lover's body without clothes, uncovered to my desirous eyes, tremulous. Her hair was falling on her shoulders, hiding one of her lotus-like nipples from my view. I placed my lips on her neck, enjoying her worried intakes of breath. They were soon lost in sighs of pleasure, as I bent her torso over mine and caught her nipple between my teeth. It was an ecstasy to feel her silky skin against mine. I was eager to smother her with pleasure, to give her back every kiss, every caress she had honored me with. My hands left no place on her body unnoticed, and I put a little love mark on her neck. Don't worry, it didn't hurt. It actually excited her.

"Do you know what position I chose to possess my beautiful flower? I decided to lean against the backrest of the bed and to seat her on my lap, so that our faces were on the same level. Like this: Legilimens. You might ask why. Because I wanted to kiss those perfect lips to my heart's content, to feel her breasts rise against my chest, to hear her accelerated breath, to see pleasure burn in her eyes. And so, in an immense explosion of passion and desire, we became one flesh. That's the end of the bedtime story, Potter, Black. The next session will be tomorrow at the same time. Finite incantatem, and good night."

A dismissive wave of his wand, and he was gone. The two Animagi, finally released, curled up on the base of their cage, powerless, devastated.

Lily had listened immobile. She did not know how she had managed to stand it for this long, but she felt obliged to do so. Out of solidarity with James, out of protest. But even her unfortunate husband and his friend could not have been more dejected.

She saw the setting change slightly and realized it was not the end of the memories. She was unable to take more, though. Her view blurred with tears, she rose from the Pensieve.

As her feet hit the ground, a pair of blazing black eyes glared at her, and a wand was pointed at her face.

"Oblivi..."

"No."

She seized Snape's arm to make him draw his wand away. "Don't, Severus."

Disregarding her protests, he attempted to throw the spell again, but she held his hand tightly. "Please, don't."

Her heart was pounding wildly, but her mind was clear like never before. For a second, a bizarre thought flitted through her head: and if she had got past the limits of suffering, where pain existed no more?

"Don't Obliviate me," she begged, gazing in his eyes. "If this is who you truly are, I must learn to accept it. It's the only way to love you, even if it's painful at first."

What was this nonsense about? She could not tell how the words had come to her lips, but she instinctively felt it was the right thing to say. Although he had still not lowered his wand, she could see he was thinking about it.

"I don't know how many times you Obliviated me," she added, "but it would be so much simpler for me to try to get used to reality. Please, Severus."

His look flaming, he flicked his wand. Memories overloaded Lily's brain: the truth about the prophecy, about Wormtail's torture and death, about the potions she had been given, about Severus' stratagems to make her love him. She lurched under their weight.

Clinging to the table not to fall, she lifted her eyes. He was watching her coldly. His expression was no longer inscrutable; it was as fierce and hateful as the night when he had massacred the house-elves. His true face.

"I can... handle it," she whimpered.

He contemplated her darkly. "Three days, Lily. You have three days to 'get used to it,' as you said. We're going to return to Hogwarts, and I expect you not to think about it any more by then. Otherwise, I'll Obliviate you for good."

She nodded, panting shallowly. "Don't you... regret it?"

He raised an eyebrow at the hope in her voice. "If I did, do you think I would view my memories in the Pensieve? Do you think I would show them to Lucius?"

He left, not without another icy remark. "One last thing, Lily. Don't try to use these memories against me. It won't work."

Still shaking, Lily remained where she was. Suddenly, a sharp twinge in her chest made her double over. She stumbled to the nearest couch and collapsed onto it with her hands on her heart.

She writhed there for hours, convinced it was the end. By midnight, however, the pain eased off.

***

The three days had passed. Lily had spent them in a half-stupefied state. Never in her dreams would she be able to handle the dreadful reality. Exhausted, knowing what would happen, she waited for Severus to join her.

This night, she could not passively submit to his desires. She allowed her hands to travel over his body, his cruel description still resonating in her ears. Barely realizing what she was doing, she began to retrace, gesture by gesture, every detail she had heard. All she was aware of was her vehement feeling of discontent, which was inciting her to continue obstinately. She pleasured him with her hands and lips before swallowing his semen, and when he recovered, she let him penetrate her in the same position as he had done that night at Malfoy Manor. The pain was blinding. She felt the blood flow from her torn flesh, still not healed after delivery. Yet she could not stop. The urge to hurt herself, to mutilate her cursed body, and the hope that their intercourse would finally bring her death, were insurmountable. But as every cell of her body seemed to take fire, her dissatisfaction only intensified. There was no escape.

This was certainly what the real torture was like. Now, she understood. She had experienced a tiny part of what James and Sirius had gone through. But they were still the lucky ones: they did not have to live after the horror was over.

Severus' muscles tensed up in orgasm. The pain was reaching its apogee. Then, as he withdrew from her, it abated a little. Not the mental pain, though. Lily fell on the sheets, and her body shook in a fit of hysterical sobbing. At this instant, nothing existed around her.

She did not notice that the intolerable ache in her abdomen had gradually disappeared in a vibration of magic, and that a hand was now stroking her hair. She cried until there was no strength left in her. The gentle hand kept on soothing her, and without knowing it, she started to relax under the touch.

After a moment which seemed to take forever, Severus turned her to him and pulled her in his arms. In spite of the blood, the semen and the tears dried on her body, the contact felt good. Lily looked at his face. She loathed his cold dark eyes, his curved nose, his thin lips, his oily black hair. And yet... his eyes sparkled whenever he saw her. His lips had a smile for her whenever she became nice to him. The face exuded intelligence, power and self-confidence. And it was the only face she was allowed to love.

The Dark Mark shone blackly on his arm as he gently but firmly took hold of her chin to meet her gaze.

"My love," he whispered, "would it be easier for you if we were married?"

What?

"No." The word had escaped her before she had the time to think of what he had said. But it mattered little.

Her head on his chest, she slowly succumbed to the slumber, if only for a few hours.