Four - Dovetailing

The Sempra Deck is dedicated to the real mystic goddess Mimi Manderly; to her beloved SeverusMuse, and to my precious Dahlra. All characters with the exception of Mimi Manderley, Peter and Dahlra belong to JK Rowling. I make no money from this publication.

Severus Apparated to the Dark Lord's hiding place, composing his thoughts and disciplining his mind against the Legilimental assault that was sure to come.

As he knelt before the Dark Lord, he noticed that the Lestranges were there, along with Yaxley, Macnair, Dolohov and several others, and he prepared himself. If there was an audience, there would surely be torture, and as sure as he was a Manc boy from the wrong side of the tracks, he'd be the recipient.

"Welcome, Severus," Voldemort hissed, smiling down at the dark head bowed before him. "I have heard the most astonishing news from our dear Bellatrix about a guest at Hogwarts."

Severus rose, flicking a stray lock of hair from his eyes. He shot a quick glance at the female Death Eater, who was preening and giving him a look of such smug satisfaction he experienced an intense but transient urge to hex her into oblivion.

Voldemort continued, "A guest that, rumour has it, has been warming your bed as well as your blood, Severus." He leaned forward in an eerie imitation of his familiar, Nagini. His eyes were alight with vicarious interest. "Are these things true?"

Severus answered smoothly, "Yes, my Lord. Dumbledore is hosting a visitor from the States. She appeared unexpectedly a few weeks back. She has been refreshingly... entertaining." He took a deep breath and waited. He found that deceiving with the truth was often the best way to proceed with the Dark Lord, who could not discern truth from half truth when Leglimising him.

Sure enough, Severus felt Voldemort slither into his mind. It was a ghastly feeling, to be violated like this. He always felt as if he were being physically fondled and lewdly caressed against his will; it gave him a queer, sick feeling of arousal that shamed and emasculated him. Every time he walked away from this experience, he imagined this would be what it felt like to be a victim of pedophilia; helpless and soiled.

The Dark Lord saw Mimi, walking with him; he saw her react to his thinly veiled insults in the tower; Severus interjected the dream into his memories, showing him drawing her onto his lap, impaling her; he then moved onward to her standing with Draco and Pansy.

Then Voldemort was out of Severus' mind with a pulling, almost sucking feeling. The Dark Lord was always reluctant to release a living mind; it reminded him all too much of how little humanity was left in his own. To Severus, it felt like coming up for air after being kissed by a corpse.

"Such a diminutive woman to be causing such a fuss, my dear Severus. I would think our Bella would find her little more than a midnight snack."

Then you'd be biting off more than you can chew, Bella, Severus thought. He replied, "Indeed, My Lord. She is of moderate interest. I myself never bothered to mention her as such."

Voldemort looked from Bella to Severus. "And yet, Bella's dear nephew Draco has sent her an owl earlier today with the most fanciful tale. I summoned you here to verify it."

"A tale, my Lord?" Severus thought frantically. Should he validate Draco, or discredit him? What would be the safest alternative for Draco, and more importantly, what would keep Mimi safe?

"Why, yes, Severus." The Dark Lord smiled, as patient as a spider. "Aunt Bella was told today that this woman, Miss Manderly, was hexed several times at point blank range, and yet no magic affected her.

"Now, is Draco telling the truth, or has my faithful lieutenant, Lucius Malfoy's son, proven that, like his father, he is incapable of fulfilling his obligations to my service by giving me false and misleading information?"

Severus felt his heart rate increase. If he accused Draco of lying, his mother, his father in Azkaban, and the boy himself would be punished; their suffering would be unspeakable, the damage perhaps permanent.

He thought of Mimi, her sea-blue eyes blazing with keen intelligence, saying, "I can protect you. That's what goddesses do!"

Without a shred of certainty that he was doing the right thing, Severus bowed his head in acquiescence. "The boy spoke the truth, my Lord. I myself witnessed it just moments before you summoned me. The woman has powers I can scarcely comprehend. Whatever she is, she is not of our world."

"Ah! So you knew about this, Severus, and you kept it from our Lord!" Bella screeched.

"I knew about it five minutes before I arrived, Bella," Severus drawled, in his most world-weary voice. "If you had been listening instead of scheming how to discredit me, you would have heard the explanation I have given to our Lord. He has seen it himself in my mind!"

"Children, please." The voice was faintly chiding in a fatherly way, but both Bellatrix and Severus heard the warning tone underneath. "I want answers, not petulant bickering. Bella, if Severus did indeed find this out moments ago, then of course he would have notified me at his first opportunity."

"I would, indeed, my Lord." Severus bowed, frantically trying to decide what direction to take. He knew he had seconds to make up his mind.

Sadly, he was not given even that much. Voldemort said, "Severus, what say you? Who or what is she?"

Severus, swallowing, cast his fate with the Muggle at Hogwarts, patiently worrying about him and awaiting his return. "She – she told me she was a goddess, my Lord. At first, I thought it was the insane prattling of a madwoman." He allowed a trace of fear to creep into his face. It was not hard to do. "After what I have seen, I am truly at a loss as to what or who she truly is."

"Does Dumbledore know?"

"Again, my Lord, I cannot say. He has said nothing to me if he does. I would think, though, that if he knows Miss Manderly's true origin, he would have mentioned it to me."

"I agree." Voldemort sat back in his chair, steepling his long hands together. "Do you think she is a goddess, Severus?"

Again, Severus wished for seconds to think, but had none. Carelessly promising gods he no longer believed in all manner of things, he said, "I cannot say, my Lord. I can only say what I saw."

"And that was?"

Severus cast another glance at the Death Eaters, hanging onto his every word. In his most sonorous, mellifluous voice, he intoned, "I saw hex after hex pass through her like water. I saw her predict the future, and have it come to pass. I saw her heal wounds with only her touch."

It was almost worth watching the assembled witch and wizards blanch at his words. He only hoped he wouldn't have to eat them. He had a feeling they would be bitter and sharp, and taste like ash and ground glass in his mouth.

Voldemort did not react. He did not even blink. He studied Severus carefully for a few moments, then leaned forward. "If she truly is a creature from another world, I would like to meet with her, Severus." He smiled his awful smile. "Please ask your esteemed guest if she would accompany you to a visit with me."

With a heavy heart, Severus bowed. "I will endeavour to convince her, my Lord."

"I am sure you will, dear Severus. Use your legendary powers of persuasion; I'm sure she will be unable to resist." Severus looked up into the Dark Lord's eyes and saw his pain readying to be unleashed, and he swallowed. "In the meantime, I do hope this will serve as a reminder to inform me of any change in the fabric of our daily lives, Severus. Crucio!"

Severus returned to his room, shaking, sickened. He wanted to die. He had done much in the noble cause of saving his own hide, but he had reached a new low. To send an innocent Muggle woman into the belly of the beast, to serve her up to the Dark Lord like a sweetmeat to be devoured... how could he face her? She had been kindness itself to him; she had shown compassion, and he had repaid it by sending her to her certain death.

Warring with this was the conflict of whether to not to inform Dumbledore. There was a time when he would willingly tell Dumbledore every secret, every dream, every thought he entertained. Lately, with the knowledge that he would be called upon any day to end the man's life, and thus secure his and Draco's allegiance with the Dark Lord for all to see, he grew continually reticent to reveal all of his secrets.

There was a shimmer to his wards, and in his mind he could see her tiny outline against his door. Severus rubbed his face with his hands. Dumbledore or not, there was one to whom he would have to confess, and she now stood on the other side of his door.

Mimi knocked again, stifling the urge to shout, "I know you're in there!" Severus was a law unto himself within his own chambers; if he chose not to answer the door, she'd have to stand here until he was ready. For the past hour she'd paced up and down the corridor, waiting for him to return.

She had heard Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris making the rounds, and rather than risk being asked questions she'd as soon as not answer, she had ducked into her own rooms until they'd passed. She was just emerging when she saw Severus' unmistakable black-clad figure disappearing through his doors.

Cursing at Filch's timing, she dashed to Severus' door, but it was too late. He had locked and warded it - automatically, if she knew anything about him. Mimi saw him in her mind's eye. More than once, she'd dreamed about the night in the tower, touching him, bringing him some relief, some comfort. He had a way of looking in a person's eyes... Oh shit, Mimi thought. She was forced to admit to herself; she was infatuated with him.

She sighed. The heavy knowledge of who he was and what would happen in the next few months pressed down on her again, and she felt, not for the first time, that she was in way over her head here. After the heady moments in his study, looking into his fierce eyes as he threw spell after hex after jinx at her, his frown and confusion growing with each passing failure, Mimi was left with a shivering feeling of desire.

It had been a thrilling moment – almost an erotic one. She could sense the magic flowing from him; she could see it in his eyes, in his body language as it released itself from his being.

How thrilling it must be to feel that kind of power flowing out of you! It saddened her a little that she would never know how it felt. But to touch him, physically, as she had that night in the tower, gave her the faintest sense of what it must feel like. She could sense something, a faint thrumming beneath his skin, and it excited and stirred her more than she realized. To feel a man like that, touching her intimately, slowly lowering himself to her...

Shaking her head to dispel her less-than-pure thoughts, Mimi raised her hand to knock again when the door swung open. Severus was at the other side of the room, and when their eyes met, Mimi knew that something important had happened. He was bent over the desk, his palms flat on the surface. He looked ashen and waxy in the light; and Mimi hurried to his side.

"Severus! Are you alright?" She placed a gentle hand on his arm, and he looked down at her, his eyes bleak and tired. "Have you been... Crucio'd again?"

He looked at her for a moment, then slowly nodded, that strange, blank expression on his face. Mimi put a tentative arm around his waist, and grasped his arm and flung it over her shoulder. "Come on. I'm putting you to bed."

In spite of his flushed face, he offered no protest; instead, he allowed her to lead him through to his bed chamber, and sat heavily down on the bed, his face paling again with pain and exhaustion.

As Mimi bent low to remove his boots, he watched her unbutton the cloth at his ankles and remove his boots and socks. "Miss Manderly – "

She looked up at him with an almost-angry expression on her face. "I think we've already been through this once, Severus. You don't call a woman who is undressing you by her surname unless you're in a brothel."

He regarded her for a shocked moment, then something like dark humour flashed in his eyes. "Are you implying that I frequent brothels, Mimi?" Something about the husky edge to his glossy voice made Mimi's stomach flutter. She rewarded him with a cheeky little grin.

"I wouldn't presume, Professor Snape." She bent back to her task, and as she removed the remaining shoe, she started as a large hand lit upon her shoulder.

She looked back up at him, and to her astonishment, he looked embarrassed. "I don't, you know. Go to brothels." He looked away, a faint blush staining his pale face. "It doesn't seem... appropriate. It is... demeaning."

His hand was warm on her shoulder, and Mimi felt a sudden urge to rub her cheek against it. Instead, she patted it, and placed her own hand over it for a moment. "I don't judge, Severus. You work in a boarding school in the middle of Scotland under more pressure than any man has a right to carry. If you need to let off some steam, who am I to say nay?"

He looked away from her again, his face suffused with embarrassment. In that moment, in that instant, Mimi knew. She knew as sure as if he'd confessed it; as sure as if he'd shouted it from the Astronomy Tower.

Severus Snape was a virgin.

Mimi slowly sat down beside him on the bed, and began to unbutton his coat. He sat, slumped, like a child, defeated. He knew. He knew she knew, and it shamed him.

"Severus – "

"Miss Man – Mimi," he interrupted, breathing fast. "I'm very tired, and I would like you to go. Your presence gives me no comfort or consolation. It only..." He turned away. "Please leave me."

Mimi looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. "No. Just because you can't take comfort in my company doesn't mean I don't take comfort in yours. You're hurt, and you've got something on your mind that has to do with me, and I'm not going."

His mouth compressed into its familiar, thin line. "So you can now add clairvoyance to your list of abilities, Mimi?" He raised his chin defiantly. Something like the old silkiness returned to his tone. "What makes you so certain you know what is on my mind?"

Mimi sighed. "Let's not play games, Severus. That's a Slytherin thing, and I'm not in the mood for it." She began to unbutton his coat, and pushed him down on the bed. His eyes widened in surprise. "I'm here because you need me; well, you need someone to talk to. Dumbledore will only make sympathetic noises and tell you it's all for the Greater Good; you can't talk to anyone else because they won't understand or sympathise."

Severus watched her face carefully, as if looking for signs of insincerity. "Perhaps I don't deserve sympathy. If you know my story as much as you claim to, you know why I believe this to be true."

Mimi stopped undressing him. She placed her hand over his heart. "I know this was broken by a young, very immature girl that you loved. I don't pretend to know her; I only know her through your eyes and your thoughts, but I can tell you that you are not the reason she is dead. That prophecy would have been found out regardless, and perhaps she wouldn't have had the chance to put herself between Voldemort and Harry."

Severus was breathing hard again, and he closed his eyes tightly; whether from grief or anger, Mimi wasn't sure. She pressed on, "I know that Dumbledore has held this heart for ransom ever since. He has used you in every way, and even now, you are trying to prepare yourself to kill him, to take Draco's place as the sacrificial lamb."

Severus grabbed her forearms in a painful grip and shook her soundly. "Who. Are. You? Really? Tell me!"

Mimi forced herself to remain calm. "I've told you – "

He rose from the bed so quickly Mimi yelped in surprise. Fuck, she had no idea he could move so fast! He was gripping her arms so tightly they hurt, and for the first time in his presence, she was a little afraid of him.

"You know too much," he hissed, his eyes blazing wildly. "What are you truly? You can't be human!"

"Severus, you're hurting me," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I'm just as human as you. I'm a Muggle from another lifetime. I don't know how I got here, but you must believe me. It doesn't matter that spells can't affect me," she said, looking into his eyes, willing him to believe. "But you can kill me. All you have to do, Severus, is break my heart."

He released her and slumped back against the bed. Lying there, his hair scattered across his pillow, his shirt opened at the waist, barefooted, bathed in sweat and fear; Mimi had never seen anyone so beautiful.

For a moment, they merely gazed at one another. Severus licked his lips, and Mimi felt her stomach twist again. Finally, he said, "Mimi, the Dark Lord... he wants me to bring you to him."

Mimi felt excited and terrified at once. "Fine. I'll go with you. I'm going to make him leave you alone."

Severus shook his head. "I won't be able to help you. If you are harmed, I don't think I could bear it."

Mimi drew near to him. She smiled as she reached for the healing salve. "Now you know how I feel every time you return from him, tortured like this."

As she gently applied the salve, he relaxed under her healing touch. "You have... kind hands," he ground out, feeling like a fool and wishing he hadn't said anything. She smiled down at him.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Severus. I promise you that I would never do anything to hurt you."

"Even to the point of keeping this from the Headmaster?"

She screwed the jar lid down with a hard twist of her wrist and grimaced. "I have no allegiance to Dumbledore, Severus. I despise how he's used you all these years. I know what you must do in this time, and I will not stop you, but I see no reason to give him any more ammunition to use against you."

As Mimi set the salve on the table, she noticed that this particular jar had writing on it. "Did you make this salve as well, Severus?"

"Yes, why?" His speech was slow and a little sleepy; he was already starting to drift off.

Mimi picked up the jar and studied it, her eyes growing wide and troubled. "Is this your handwriting?"

He made a rather charming little rumbling sound. He replied, "Whose else would it be?" Almost the moment the words were out of his mouth, he tried to grab the jar from her hands, but Mimi was already jumping from the bed, staring at the container.

Her hand started shaking, and the jar slipped from her fingers and fell onto the stone floor with a smash. She turned to the man lying on the bed. "It was your handwriting. On the cards, on the envelope; on the piece of paper. Sempra."

She was gasping, almost hyperventilating. "It was you all the time," she whimpered, shaking her head. "You created the Sempra deck. You brought me here from the future!"

It was Severus' turn to placate her. "Mimi, I swear to you – "

"Oh, you swear, do you? You knew all along, and you didn't tell me! How dare you pretend you knew nothing about the Sempra Deck?" Mimi's eyes were like an icy pool; he could see and hear the frost and anger.

"I never said – "

Mimi held up her hand. "I know you didn't. You never volunteered information, but that's no excuse! Just because you don't tell someone something doesn't mean you shouldn't!"

She turned away, breathing hard. "I'm not going to lose my temper and start shouting. I'm not to walk away and let you stew. I'm not going to go to Dumbledore either, because he knew as well, didn't he?" Severus nodded slowly, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else but there with her. Mimi returned his nod.

"What I am going to do, however, is sit here and let you sleep, because it's plain that you are exhausted. And in the morning, you will explain yourself." She held out her hand. "Do we have a deal, Severus?"

Severus looked at the tiny hand held out to him. She was telling him, with that small gesture, that she still trusted him enough to keep his word. Grimly, he took her hand, and it disappeared within his own large one. Rather grimly, he answered, "We have an accord, Mimi."

Impulsively, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. Mimi stared at him, shocked, and he blessed the gods that he had been inspired to do it; it certainly put her off her guard.

"Thank you, Mimi, for giving me a chance to rest. The tale is, I'm afraid, one I will need all my strength to relate."

As Severus lay on his bed, pretending to sleep, he stole a quick glance at Mimi. She sat in his most comfortable chair, idly thumbing through a recommended book, her dark hair fanning across her shoulders. Her legs were tucked up beneath her, and she looked as tiny as a woodland sprite, except no sprite had ever looked so dramatically dark and interesting. A goddess, he thought. My pocket goddess, he amended, with a mixture of longing and a certain frustration.

Severus had never been one who enjoyed indulging in self-pity, but these last years were the worst of his life, and sometimes he wondered how he continued to put one foot in front of the other.

Ever since Lily's son had arrived at Hogwarts, his life had gone downhill. He was just a tool, used by all and sundry, to do their dirty work. He had been used, ridiculed, humiliated and thwarted for the past six years.

And that was nothing, compared to the night Albus called him into his study and shown him his blackened hand. It was rotting from Horcrux backlash so quickly it had almost drained Severus' magic trying to slow it down. That had been bad enough, until Albus told him, almost gleefully, of his master plan for his gods damned Greater Good. Oh, and the coup de grace? Severus got to murder him.

It was too much. Dumbledore had ruthlessly used and abused him for a good one-third of Severus' life, but this was a blow so bitter, he reeled from it even at this late date. It held too many factors for Severus to deal with; horror that he would be asked to take the life of an innocent, relief that at least one Master would no longer be around to lead him around by the nose, and a good, unhealthy measure of anger and hatred and regret and shame swilling around in the cauldron as well.

And there was the final, irrevocable knowledge that, once the deed was done, Severus was himself an outcast, a dead man. The Wizarding world would never, never forgive him for killing Dumbledore, no matter who defended him or how ardently his cause was pleaded.

He had returned to his rooms that night, and had given up. Only fear had prevented him from taking his own life. His love for Lily had withered and faded with the knowledge he was to become a cold-blooded killer at the time of his victim's own choosing. It was too much. His sense of duty to keep Potter alive only to fulfill his destiny no longer mattered in the grim, bleak reality of Severus' own destiny. Dumbledore had finally broken the tool.

Severus had lived a hopeless life, and would come to a pointless end, and would be forever hated. The name Severus Snape would be a blight on the face of Wizarding Britain. Parents would use his name as a warning to their errant children on the pitfalls of being naughty. Be a good boy, sonny, or you'll end up like Severus Snape. As if any child on earth would be as gods forsaken as he.

Now, looking at Mimi, he realized how starved he was for simple understanding. How long had it been since anyone had given a shit enough to care about how he felt? He knew he pushed everyone away with his acerbic tongue and his prideful demeanor – who in his life had ever deemed him worthy of pushing back?

He felt a reluctant affection for her, and an unbidden desire that made him shuffle uncomfortably under the covers so that it would not make its presence known. What would it be like to lie with her? Would her sea-blue eyes glow with passion? Would she call his name as he moved in her?

There was a dormant part of him that now rose with the hunger of years-long hibernation, and he knew it would not be silenced with his own ministrations. He had told the truth when he confessed he'd never resorted to prostitutes, but he was starting to wonder if he should. Just to feel, to breathe, to feel flesh upon flesh once before he was sent to his own death.

No. He didn't want sex with a stranger. He didn't want a quick shag, a pity fuck. He wanted to make love to a woman whom he desired, and who desired him. Was that so much to ask? It was, it seemed, if you were Severus Snape.

He did not want to be a martyr, but that was his destiny. He looked at Mimi again, and surreptitiously adjusted his erection. He turned his back to her, and willed himself to calm by reciting the contents of the Potions cupboard. It was a handy way to discourage this sort of thing.

He mentally sighed. He had always tried to be honest with himself, even when he lied about everything else. In his secret heart, he wanted to see those sea-blue eyes glow beneath him. He wanted to kiss her mouth, which he imagined would taste of cinnamon and exotic spiced wine. He wanted to bury himself in her body and hear her throaty voice as he tore his name from her lips in the passion he had given her. He wanted Mimi. It did not, in light of recent circumstances, seem too much to ask.