Origin

2. Origin

"It's a common failure of young writers," the editor told Biff, "that they want to jump immediately into the action without preparing the reader."

"Did you have something suitable in mind?" asked Biff.

The editor took up her pen.

After continuing for 6,000 years, First Principle plucked Acorn from Tree of Existence and brought forth Emperor who was to wait 12,000 years before striking Rock of Creation, but after 6,000 years, Emperor became impatient and said, "First Principle only had to wait 6,000 years," whereupon he struck Rock of Creation, and it, not being ready, split into five pieces instead of four, which should not have happened, and from the first piece came Heaven and Earth, from the second came Plants, from the third came Animals, from the fourth came People, and from the fifth, which, unlike the majestic appearance of the others, was flawed and ugly and jagged, nothing seemed to come but much seemed to flee, and while Emperor hid out of shame, First Principle marveled that the other four stones grouped themselves around the misshaped shard, and for the first time since his formation, First Principle felt awe at evidence that Chaos was a deeper imperative, which should not have happened.

"Now that the reader is well prepped," said Biff, "all that remains is to flesh out the basic structure."

The editor beamed as Biff, inspired by the intro, filled the page with his scrawl.

No. No. No, Severus Snape was mentally screaming.

The Trio leaving him to die had given him the resolve to pour half the vial of potion into himself. Now, in the stasis it had produced to let him recover, he had seen Pansy Parkinson enter, cry out in shock at his condition, and pour the rest of the potion down his throat. He cursed himself for his own caution. He had been certain that when he needed the potion, he would be severely injured to the point that he would spill half of it. Half of it would save him; all of it might do something terrifying. He lost all consciousness.

He woke to find himself in a comfortable bed with Pansy sleeping in a chair next to him. He was thinking clearly except for the part of him feeling gratitude, a previously unknown emotion, toward the one person who had tried to save him. She had probably condemned him by her efforts, but the thought that one person cared was pleasant enough that he harbored no ill will. He could guess the likely outcome. The one creature that could sustain incredible injury and survive was a vampire.

He had acquired the requisite blood and hair for a price he would not care to pay again in a place as full of peril as unrequited love.

"If you change your mind," the negotiator had said, "the antidote is scribed on the Scroll of Escroll."

"And where is that located?" he had asked.

The room had laughed.

"It's a joke," another vampire had said. "Once one experiences our existence, there are no second thoughts."

The room had laughed again, but in a manner that had made him flee to the streets where he had been surprised to find himself still alive under the sun.

Now, his getting out of bed had awakened Pansy who protested his being up and about.

"Who do you think you are, Superman?" asked Pansy.

Severus flexed muscles he didn't know he had; sniffed the air, taking in Pansy's scent which he recognized as virgin; felt deep hunger as he watched a vein throb in her throat; and said, "Who's Superman?"

"He's a character in non-wizard fantasy literature," said Pansy. "I like comic books. Is there anything the fuck wrong with that?"

"Do you have a favorite?" asked Severus.

"Scrooge McDuck."

"What does he do?"

"He says, 'Get back in there and capture that dragon. I'm paying you a whole ten cents an hour,'" said Pansy.

"Amazing. It sounds like the Malfoys," said Severus. "How in the world does a non-wizard know so much about us?"

"I put it down to artistic intuition," said Pansy.

She insisted on supporting him as they descended the stairs to the ground floor for tea. He was certain he didn't need any aid, but Pansy holding him was too pleasant to protest. Smelling her hair, bumping against her, they ricocheted down the stairwell.

Guico piano, thought Theo. Older people have no fire.

He wondered if the old folks knew they were on the brink of a revelation: canon Severus's unrequited love for Lily was not a saving grace but a character defect. Canon Severus had so little romance in his soul that he had expended all of it on a childhood friend and had none left for anyone who might have cared for him.

The next morning, Severus and Pansy were on their way to the bank. Mrs. Parkinson had received a tip that the authorities, not able to locate her husband, were prepared to take her into custody, and she had fled to France to join her spouse. Operating under the theory that even though the government was not letting itself be hampered by due process, it was a bureaucracy and it would take its own sluggish time to target Pansy, which meant Pansy had a day or two of freedom to settle family affairs.

At the bank, the goblin teller was refusing Pansy permission to visit the family vault.

"She has identified herself, and she is of legal age," injected Severus.

The teller looked into the eyes of the young lady's companion and saw goblins on pitchforks roasting over coals.

"Furthermore, she has shown you the authorization signed by her parents," added Severus.

The head teller tore his gaze away from eyes that showed unspeakable creatures feasting on goblin private parts and signaled an assistant to guide the hell-spawn to its desired destination.

Returning to the Parkinson residence, Pansy insisted on visiting the greenhouse one last time. She noticed his fascination with the few black orchids they had.

"They're very valuable," she said.

He nodded agreement. They had been an important ingredient in the overdose of potion she had given him. Now, he was fascinated by the beautiful plant that had condemned him. Pansy remarked that they wouldn't survive the neglect they would receive when government officials took over the estate. For some reason, that made him sad. Noticing his reaction, Pansy temporarily lost her stoic attitude.

"Why can't they leave us alone?" wailed Pansy. "Why can't someone get rid of those inquisitors?"

She saw the fire in Severus's eyes and recoiled. "No, no, I didn't mean that," she said.

He gave her a quizzical look.

"Eliminating people is such a sad affair," she said. "No matter who they are, some one will miss them. The consequences reverberate through all time. Innocents suffer."

"You surprise me, Miss Parkinson."

"I never could have the things I wanted," she said. "Yesterday, I saw a stray kitten, and I wanted to take it home, but I didn't dare because I'm going to be a fugitive."

"You do strike me as a cat person," he said.

"I never got to have one when I was in school. It wouldn't have been safe among those louts. No one would take care of it if I left it home."

Severus held Pansy as the devastation of her life coalesced in the abandonment of a stray kitten to its fate. He was stroking her hair, offering solace to some one whose life had come apart. He was stroking her hair, inhaling her scent and feeling her form and having wild thoughts.

She recovered, sniffed, and said, "You must think me a silly girl."

"You're holding up well," said Severus, "but if you are up to it, we must act quickly. We need to collect everything of value and destroy or hide any incriminating accounts or records."

"Right," said Pansy. "Then we can seal this place and leave. We can doubly seal all the closets and cupboards. The government snoops will spend days breaking into empty spaces, giving us more time to escape."

For his amusement, Severus placed self-referential spells alternating with infinite-recursion spells around the innocent pantry.

"It hurts to look at them," said Pansy.

Back at his place, Pansy stretched out on the hearth rug as Severus lit the fireplace against the chill of an early spring evening.

"Join me?" she asked.

To his surprise, he stretched out on the hearth rug for the first time in his life.

"You're so comfortable," she said, snuggling around him with her head on his shoulders.

Still to his surprise, he held her as she sighed and soon fell asleep.

Lying on the rug, holding Pansy, Severus felt more relaxed than he had ever felt, felt Pansy was a marvelous person, felt better than he had ever felt. He fell asleep.

Men, thought Cho. For all their supposed lustiness, they never get it.

The Dark Stranger was walking down a dark ally, one that would never end. As he walked, he did things that made it darker. He couldn't stop himself. It was getter colder and colder.

Until.

A door opened, and he stepped into room of light and warmth and a strange lady sitting at a table. He thought he recognized her. Strange, since he had tried to forget everyone he had ever met. Why hadn't he forgotten this one?

"Of course, it had to be you," she said.

"And I am?" he asked.

"The one who ignored a little girl who had a crush on her professor," she said, "the little girl with short skirts constantly crossing her legs, who bought special satin knickers for the day she could flash you."

"And what happened to the little girl?" he asked.

"She grew up, and now, the kitten in her satin knickers is reserved for a rich aristocrat."

"You mean the stray kitten that you cannot keep for your own."

"You could not be so cruel if you were not so perceptive," was the reply.

"And what cruel thing would you do in return?" he asked.

"This," she replied, leaning over and brushing his lips with hers.

Severus woke with a start as Pansy's lips brushed his.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You looked so peaceful and handsome."

"Good intentions go a long way," he said as a shot in the dark.

"Really?" asked Pansy, relaxing a bit and giving him a soft kiss.

"Yes, like that," he said.

Severus's mind was racing. Did she honestly want attention from him? How much?

She embraced him again.

"That's what I want," he said, running fingers through her hair and giving her an adoring look. "It's what you're really like."

She put her arms gently around him. Her lips traced his eyes, his nose, his mouth. His hand was on the back of her neck.

"I would never get tired of this, never get enough of this," he said.

Pansy decided she wanted to be his witch for as long as she could. She guided his hands to her breasts. She reveled in the feel of his hands traveling all over her. She arranged herself to let him nibble his way up her thighs. She gloried in her surge of passion. She drank in the hungry gleam in his eyes. She thought she would go wild when he kissed her damp garment, kissed her damp garment right where it covered her sensitive nub.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"It's mine to give," said Pansy.

The mechanics were supposed to be clumsy, but Severus enjoyed removing Pansy's knickers. He was entering her. She moaned. He almost stopped, but it was a moan of pleasure. He was all the way in. He loved it. He loved the look on her face. He made love to her, accepting all he was offered. Pansy was telling him it was wonderful. She was squirming. He felt her turn very wet. She was smiling at him. He felt her spasms. She looked ethereal. He came inside her.

He was holding her and wondering what would happen next.

She was thinking about her parents, alone and desolate in France.

"I want to stay until it's time for me to go," said Pansy.

MuseAmusant: Black orchids, satin knickers, a scroll.

Author's Note: Apologies for the length, but I couldn't manage Pansy in less.