Chapter 3

The noonday sun on the day before Christmas turned an overcast sky a pale white before seeping through the window and onto the book held by one Severus Snape who was lost in his own reverie. Everything was going awry.

Before the term had begun, he had devised a plan of revenge against that frizzy-haired witch. He would let Draco Malfoy discover his old Potion book which would let him outperform all the other students, especially that over-achieving female. It would be subtle retribution since the teacher’s pet wouldn’t be able to deviate from the prescribed text even though it was inferior. That would be fun to watch. Unfortunately, the Nameless One had concocted a scheme that turned Draco into a wreck barely able to function, and even worse, Harry Potter had retrieved the book. Well, that should have been even more subtle fun as her friend outperformed her, but the frizzy-haired one had enticed him into a quest for Salazar Slytherin’s lost artifacts, and for reasons beyond understanding, he was sympathizing with his archeology partner instead of gloating over her distress as he should be. Nothing beat the Dark Lord and the Gryffindors for taking the fun out of life.

He was taking consolation in thinking things couldn’t get any worse when the doorbell rang.

“Hello, Bellatrix, what brings you out this glorious day?”

“I’m going spare hanging around Malfoy Manor,” she said.

“Drab surroundings will do that,” he replied. “Perhaps some time in my luxurious parlor will restore your joie de vivre. Would madam enjoy a tea?”

“Do you have any coffee?”

“I see that madam, indeed, has a despondency of the spirit. Let me make a quick trip to the corner grocery.”

Ten minutes later, Severus emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of coffee and sticky-buns. He poured and served.

“Perhaps if madam unburdened herself,” he suggested.

“How do you do it, Severus?” she asked. “You survive everything without a scratch, you’re the Dark Lord’s favorite, and for a grand finale, you convinced Miss Granger, of all people, to join you in locating ancient Slytherin treasures.”

“I’m barely limping along,” he said. So much for our activities being secret.

“Your false modesty is infuriating,” said Bellatrix. “Have you weaseled your way into her pants yet?”

The last question brought such a flood of emotion that Severus was temporarily speechless, but luckily, Bellatrix was intent upon her own designs.

She joined him on the sofa. “I bet you could weasel your way into any lady’s pants if you tried.”

He was thinking that this was a power play. If she was out of favor with the chief, she would cozy up to his lieutenant. She would believe that, given a taste of her tush, her pureblood tush, he would be at her feet, at her beck and call. Being in his current lonely state and seeking a distraction from his unwanted feelings for Hermione, she might be correct. This was scary. He had to divert her.

“I think an amorous adventure would do you good,” he said.

“Yes,” she breathed hoarsely, moving closer.

“In fact, many amorous flings might be the cure,” he said. “Let’s work on it.”

“What?” she asked. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that a lady of your passion needs many lovers,” he said, “many.”

“I had just one in mind.”

“You under rate yourself,” he said.

“Do you think so?” she asked.

“Of course. Imagine what one lover could give you. Now imagine what a platoon of lovers could give you. Riches. Power.”

“I’ve been short sighted. It would be niggardly of me to deprive wizardkind of my favors,” she said, “but how does one go about it?”

“Discreet ads,” he said. “Simply describe what you are looking for.”

A few moments later, she showed Severus her first effort.

Ferocious female seeks ruler of an Empire, preferably Dark. S&M in foreplay a must. Will return devotion for cruel treatment.

“That’s too identifying. Everyone will know it’s you,” he said, “which brings up the point: how can you safely mingle with others.”

“I can use a glamour.”

“But what if everything is successful?” he asked. “What if you lose control at the ultimate moment? Wouldn’t that identify you?”

“I’m safe even then,” she replied. “No one knows what I’m like at the ultimate moment, as you put it, not even me.”

“Indeed,” said Severus.

Severus read her ad again. “This is the old you. You’re here because you feel something is missing from your life. Perhaps you’ve matured and torturing the helpless no longer satisfies all your emotional needs.”

Bellatrix put her will and quill into the next effort.

Willing witch will wiggle wantonly while wallowing with wild wicked ways.

Severus shook his head. “That’s so yesterday.”

Bellatrix sighed. “You’re right. I need something for this dignified era in which we are now living.”

They reviewed her strong points, what she might bring to a relationship.

Consort of a Dark Wizard, he thought, but he let his mind stretch and suggested being a companion of a champion. She hesitated. That was too big a change. He disagreed. It was only in books for children that there was a difference between the forces of light and the forces of darkness. Well, children and the general public, he amended.

“Do you think I could pull it off?” she asked.

He mentioned she would have to adapt to a different type of bonding. A champion would openly admire her competence and bravery instead of abusing her into developing an inner core of self-sufficiency. He would be prone to helping her, and she would have to learn to share her burden instead of pitting her lone mettle against the opposing forces. Most likely, he would come to appreciate her character and become attached to her.

“I’m not ready for that,” she said.

“You might grow into it,” he offered.

She brightened. “I know, married men. I hear there’s an abundant supply.”

“That might fit your present stage of development,” said Severus.

She continued. “All those clandestine meetings over the lunch hour – a quick, refreshing break, a pleasant grind before the afternoon grind. Occasionally, wifey will be out of town with the kids, and he can have me on his kitchen table. Just think, every time after that, when he sits down to dinner with his family, he’ll have flashbacks of getting my feet in the air, and as he bites into the evening rump roast, his groin will tighten as he remembers my intimate clenches that caused him to spurt uncontrollably.”

She took a deep breath. “That’s spicy. That’s what I need.”

“I think we’re gaining insight here,” said Severus.