Chapter 4: Retribution for Wicked Ways

Chapter 4: Retribution for Wicked Ways

An early morning fog blanketed the shabby row houses, causing the outside light to drift in hazily through the bedroom window, much like the muddled thoughts that circulated around Severus' brain. As he lay in bed recovering from a night of self-indulgence, the professor sorely wished he had not consumed quite so much elf wine. His head had the unmistakable throbbing of a hangover, and if Snape didn't know better, he would have sworn he had a mouth full of Pygmy Puffs. He placed his arm over his eyes, shielding them from the offending brightness as he tried to ease himself into the present moment. The soft snores of his companions were the only sounds in the room, and for that he was thankful. Not ready to make any more effort to move, the wizard remained motionless, letting his mind wander over the past evening's escapades and various broken bits of memories.

Severus' mind eventually drifted to Madam Morbida. It was in her establishment that Snape had his first sexual encounter. He remembered her as quite the handsome witch in her earlier years. When Severus was younger, he often wished he had enough Galleons to pay for her talents. However, as a young schoolboy of 17, he had to take what he could afford. The years, he noticed, had left their toll on her complexion, and she now lacked the once desirable beauty he remembered. These days the Madam concentrated her efforts on running a very discreet and profitable business. Her girls entertained Ministry officials and Death Eaters alike, and she took precautions to make sure that her clients' names were kept anonymous. It was because of this fact that the professor chose to enter an arrangement with Madam Morbida, one in which he provided her with the necessary potions in exchange for monetary relief and her silence. Of course, the extra benefits she had recently offered him weren't bad either. This thought brought Snape's attention back to Serafina and Willow.

Braving the light, Severus removed his arm from his eyes and allowed them to adjust to the white rays that sifted into the room. Once the wizard was able to see clearly, he slowly turned his head and focused on the two shapely bodies lying askew in his bed. The women looked so vulnerable, so enticing, as they lay half-covered in the tangled sheets. It would be so easy for him to just reach up, grab the loose ends of the Devil's Snare rope and begin another session of "detention". However, knowing full well that all things had to come to an end, he sighed heavily and prepared to rise from his bed of sin to relieve himself of a full bladder and more importantly... locate his bottle of hangover potion.

Willow was awakened from her slumber by the stirrings of the professor. She felt him crawl out of the bed and heard him pad slowly off to the bathroom. The witch was not in a hurry to move from her warm spot and enjoyed basking in the memories of last night's encounter. In a wistful attempt to replay some of the wonderful sensations the Potion master created in her body, the blonde lightly stroked her own breast, circling the sensitive area of her nipple. The thought of seducing the dark wizard one more time before she left this morning danced through her head until she heard a retching sound echoing out of the bathroom.

"Oh, bloody hell," she said before sighing disappointedly.

************

Snape was still leaning over the toilet, watching the contents of his stomach swirl away, when a matter-of-fact voice sounded out in the small lavatory.

"When the wine goes in, strange things come out."

Severus ignored the comment as he wiped his mouth off and stood up. Facing the mirror above his bathroom sink, the wizard stared at his reflection. He looked like hell and felt even worse. That wretched elf wine must have been cursed,he tried rationalizing to himself.

"So, Snape ol' boy, you've found out, yet again, that there is a price to pay when indulging in the pleasure of spirits."

Severus groaned at the irritating voice of the mirror.

The object continued, using its best imitation of the Potions master's voice. "O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou has no name to know by, let us call thee devil."

Fighting the desire to fire back a fitting retort to the insufferable, self-righteous looking glass, Snape thought it best to just open the front of his medicine cabinet and find the potion that would make him feel whole again.

"So tell me, Professor, do you find that alcohol is the cause of and solution to all of life's problems?"

Severus continued to disregard the voice and found the hangover potion right where he'd left it the last time he was in this condition. Pulling it out, he clumsily opened the bottle and downed some of the contents. The effects were nearly immediate, and he felt the roiling of his stomach and the throbbing of his head start to dissipate.

"Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, sermons and soda-water the day after."

Snape looked at the mirror with renewed strength and a menacing glare. "Bugger off!"

The mirror just laughed back at him and spewed out yet another quote. "Wine and wenches empty men's purses."

Thoroughly annoyed with the magical object's moral attitude, the dark wizard growled. "Why not stick this pearl of wisdom up your reflective arse. An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools!" With that said, Severus opened the door and stalked out.

As Snape entered the bedroom, he noticed that Willow was awake and propped up in bed.

"You two will have to go back soon." A trace of irritation laced the words. "I have arranged for an escort to take you and your friend back to your establishment."

The Potions master quietly gathered up some clothes and walked out of the room.

The whore was quick to notice her client's mood. The cold detachment that she was accustomed - to when her services were no longer needed - was evident. It hurt. It always hurt, but that was part of the job too. She would get over it. She always did.

With a sigh, she nudged Sera. "Come on, sleepy head. The night is over, and a new one will be brewing soon."

************

Fully dressed, Serafina and Willow descended the stairway that led to the first floor of the house. The hidden passage stood open, allowing the two whores to walk back into the main quarters. As they looked around, the professor was nowhere to be seen; however, an older chap, wearing a dingy brown frock coat, stood by the window looking out across the street. He was a balding man with streaky grey hair that hung below his coat collar.

"Do you think he's our escort?" Willow whispered to her friend.

"Who knows," said Sera rather disappointedly. She was disheartened when she learned she wouldn't have a chance to give the professor a proper farewell, either.

"Well, at least it isn't that chubby little twit who was drooling over me." Willow shuddered at the thought.

The man at the window heard the witches enter the room and slowly turned around to face them. He offered them no introduction but stood in silence, clutching a rather large, leather bound book. His thin lipped mouth seem to sport a perpetual, sour grimace, and he quickly gave the two ladies a once over with his bulging, lamp-like eyes.

"Eew, someone needs a little pick-me-up this morning, if you ask me."

The brunette snickered at her friend's comment and gave her a little push. "You're so bad!"

This caused both whores to break into a fit of giggles. The stranger, however, just stood and glared at their nonsense before rolling his eyes and shuffling over to the fireplace.

"Come on... I don't have all day," the man groused impatiently.

He reached up and grabbed the rusty old tin of Floo powder, shoving it towards the two whores, indicating that they should hurry up and grab their share. One by one, the trio threw their powder into the fire and plainly said, "Madam Morbida's," before disappearing into the green flames.

As the group landed in the parlor of Madam Morbida's house of ill repute, the matron of the establishment was standing nearby, awaiting their arrival.

"Back in time, I see." The older woman gave the three a sly smile and walked up for closer inspection. "I was wondering if I would have to send my house-elf, Fletcher, off to retrieve my two most precious parcels."

Willow and Serafina caught their bearings and began brushing soot off their clothes as they greeted the Madam.

"You have something for me, Mr... ah... Filch, is it not?"

The older man looked cautiously around before answering. "Indeed."

Madam Morbida chuckled softly at the look of slight surprise on the man's features. "I never forget a face." She then turned to her two ladies and spoke again. "You two stay here a moment. I need you to take your potions before you go off to your rooms."

Sera and Willow looked at each other and sighed. They really didn't care for the taste of the Memory Cloud potion that the Madam always forced them to take. They accepted it, however, as they knew it was one of her precautions to keep them from spilling out clients' names. If Madam Morbida's establishment was ever raided by wizarding authorities and names were released, they knew they would be out of a "home" and out of a job. The Madam treated her girls well, and they felt a strong loyalty to her.

"Mr. Filch, I believe you have the potions I require?"

Filch nodded and brought out a couple of vials from his left coat pocket. He handed them to the older witch and watched with some anticipation as the vials of potion were passed over to and consumed by the whores.

After, seeing to it that every drop was taken, Madam Morbida posed a series of questions to Sera and Willow.

"So, what did you do last night, girls?"

The two whores looked at each other briefly, and Filch noticed slight confusion passed through their eyes.

Willow spoke up first. "We went over to some wizard's house and did a bit of house cleaning..."

"Before we showed him our real talents!" Serafina interrupted. Both women smiled mischievously at each other and giggled.

"Who was this wizard?" Madam Morbida inquired seriously.

The witches thought hard for a moment and then looked at each other for help. Neither could come up with a name. Satisfied so far, the older witch continued.

"Well, do you remember where he lived? What did his house look like?"

"It was a little, old house, nothing special about it really. Big bed... of course, we charmed the room to fit our needs." Serafina, however, couldn't come up with an address or street name and just shrugged her shoulders.

Willow tried to answer the question as well, but stood there silently, biting her lower lip.

"Did you notice if he was a professional man?"

The two looked at the Madam with confusion.

Madam Morbida smiled slightly as she rephrased her question. "I mean, did the wizard have a job or a title?"

They looked at each other again and shook their heads "no".

"Very well. Now just a few more questions and we'll be done." The two young witches faces brightened, anxious to get on with their day.

Madam Morbida glanced over at Mr. Filch as she asked the next set of questions. She noticed that even though he stood in the room, patiently waiting while she assessed the effects of the potion, he had an intense interest in the girl's responses.

"What did this wizard look like?"

Willow piped up right away. "Oh, he was dark and mysterious. Sexy too!"

Sera nodded in agreement and her eyes lit up at the thought of him. "He was a little nasty at first, but we turned that attitude around."

Filch snorted at that comment.

"Now this is important, ladies, so try and concentrate," the older witch stressed. "What about his features? Color of hair, eyes, distinguishable marks?"

"Dark hair..." the brunette witch answered hesitantly. After some more thought, she finally gave up. "I'm not sure. I just can't seem to remember the particulars."

"He was rather large," Willow said with a smirk.

"Oh, yes! That he was!" Serafina agreed and then nudged her friend playfully.

"Satisfied, Mr. Filch?"

Filch nodded and Madam Morbida dismissed her two ladies.

"Mr. Filch, would you please join me in my private quarters for some tea?" The Madam gave the man a quick, knowing smile. "Or, I do have something stronger, if you prefer. Coffee... with a shot of Ogden's?"

Feeling his stomach roll at the thought of consuming Firewhisky so early in the day, her guest simply replied, "Coffee, strong and black."

"Very well, then." Calling out to her house-elf, Fletcher, the older woman made her request of tea, scones and coffee, before ushering Mr. Filch into one of the side rooms.

As soon as the door closed, Madam Morbida placed a Silencing Charm around the room. Filch watched the gracefulness of her moves while noting that the old witch still cut a nice figure.

Aware that she was being stared at, the Madam turned to face her caller. She looked at the grey haired man before her with amusement and laughed. "It's been a while since I've had a wizard look at me in such a way, much less pleasured him."

Filch caught himself and blushed.

Madam Morbida waved her hand and directed the man towards the small table by the fireplace. Still smiling, she continued. "I am well aware of how age has robbed me of my beauty." Walking over to her dressing table, the witch picked up a picture frame and looked at the photo briefly before handing it over to Filch. A dark haired, dark eyed, exotic looking woman smiled seductively back at him, while she twisted a tendril of hair around her finger. Gone were the creases that now covered her face, and behind her bright smile were teeth that were straight and white instead of those that were aged yellow and crooked. A mixture of wanting and sadness gripped at his heart as he continued to watch the attractive woman flirting with him from behind the frame.

"I chose the path I took, and my business venture has paid off nicely. I have no regrets, really." Madam Morbida sighed as her guest looked up into her face. "I went into this career with my eyes wide open and knew my sins would catch up to me..." The woman's voice drifted off shortly, only to regain some strength as she continued. "This was why I was determined to become a shrewd business-woman."

Just then a flash of green came through the fireplace. Standing before the couple was Fletcher, balancing a silver tray full of scones in one hand and holding another with a delicate tea service in the other. After placing the items on the table, the house elf looked expectantly as his mistress.

"Did you make the coffee strong as requested?"

"Indeed, mistress. I made it with the proportions used to sober up young men." The house-elf waited for his dismissal.

"Thank you, Fletcher. That will be all."

The elf bowed gracefully before Flooing back to the kitchen.

While Filch sipped his coffee, Madam Morbida sat down and daintily poured herself a cup of tea. "Do help yourself," she said as she gently pushed the tray of pastries towards her guest. "I believe it will do you a world of good to get something a little more substantial in your system." As Filch reached for a scone topped with fresh berries, the Madam stared at him with great interest. After allowing the man some time to digest a few bites, she continued with their conversation. "As I mentioned, I was determined to be a shrewd business woman." She set her teacup down and again fixed her sight on the man sitting across from her. "I trust, then, that our recent little arrangement was quite satisfactory, Professor Snape?"

The ever-present scowl lifted as the Polyjuiced Snape acknowledged her question. "Be it never said that you don't deliver your promises, Madam."

The devilish smile on the man's face told the old witch everything she needed to know. "Perhaps you will be agreeable to similar business transactions in the future?"

"I think that I would be quite amenable to such arrangements." With a smile still playing at the corners of his mouth, Severus reached out and pushed the leather book across the table. "If you open this, you will find several weeks worth of the improved Memory Cloud potion, per our agreement."

Madam Morbida reached out and grasped the object with both hands, pulling it slowly toward her. As she opened the cover, her sharp eyes inspected the contents of the deceptive tome. The small glass vials were meticulously packed inside the hollowed-out book. To prevent breakage, Severus had layered each row with folds of dark felt. The old lady lifted one vial out of the box and scrutinized the opalescent substance. Her hand shook slightly as she held it up to the light. Satisfied, she laid it carefully on the table and began counting the rest of vials.

The disguised gentleman crossed his arms and said with slight indignation, "I believe that you will find that they are all present and intact, Madam."

"I'm sure that they are, Professor, however, when you deal with as many unscrupulous characters as I do, it becomes second nature to trust no one." Madam Morbida closed up the book and gave the man across from her a wry smile. "You can appreciate such tendencies, can you not?"

Snape gave the astute woman a brief nod and resumed drinking his coffee, but not before the witch noticed a look of uneasiness cross his features.

"Professor Snape, I am fully aware of your past and present situation. A person of my occupation and connections doesn't go through life without keeping abreast of the local gossip. I do, however, pride myself as a very perceptive woman, and I would not have attempted dealings with you if I did not trust your integrity." The Madam paused to give her statement some weight. "It's not to say that I would ever fully trust you or anyone else, for that matter, but my judgment in a person's character has let me survive in this business for quite a long time. I am not a stupid woman, Professor, and I do have enough foresight to know that I must have certain plans in place to ensure my success. I am a firm believer that in order to run my business discreetly and keep my customers happy, I must insist that whatever goes on here stays here. That is why I have made quite clear, to certain influential persons, that if my business should become a part of an investigation, or if anything unnatural should happen to me, that I have a very long list of clients that will suddenly appear in the hands of those capable of destroying lives and careers. Do we understand each other?"

"Completely." Snape felt his sense of respect and admiration grow for the woman sitting next to him. Suddenly, a brief flicker of hope brewed within Severus, and the thought crossed his mind that perhaps he could have an ally in Madam Morbida. Of course, by his own nature, he would never fully trust her either.

"Very well, then. I will go ahead and place my next order with you. When it is ready we will work out a suitable arrangement at your convenience."

"I look forward to it, Madam." With that said, Snape stood up and took Madam Morbida's hand and gave it a light kiss.

The old woman smiled. "I wish I knew you years ago Severus Snape, I would have shown you a few tricks of the trade."

"Ah, but I knew you, only I couldn't afford such beauty at the time."

"A smooth talker, you are. I like that! Now, perhaps you will do me a favor next visit?"

The wizard looked at her cautiously. "That would depend."

"Would you be so kind as to Polyjuice yourself into something a little more pleasing to the eye? It would make our tea so much more pleasurable."

"Of course, Madam." With a wicked smile, Severus threw out a suggestion. "I do happen to have a few strands of hair from one Gilderoy Lockhart."

Madam Morbida let out a short laugh and rolled her eyes. "Oh, not that damnable peacock! More fluff than fortitude, that one... At least that's what my girls say. "

Snape chuckled. "I always suspected that."

************

After his visit with Madam Morbida, Severus Flooed back to the quiet solitude of his domain. Still in Argus Filch's form, the Potions master thought he would sit down and read his latest copy of Potions Today until the transformation took place. He had barely settled in when, outside his home, a loud ruckus occurred. It was distinctly the sound of children causing havoc in the street.

The neighborhood children had been giving chase to a rat until they cornered it in front of Snape's house. With sticks in hand, they surrounded the rodent, ready to bludgeon it to death. The commotion caused Severus to come to the door and yell out, "What's going on here?" He gave the group a menacing stare before he mumbled to himself, "Can't a man have some peace and quiet in this forsaken place?"

The children froze at the sight of the odd man. They had recognized most everyone in the neighborhood, but this man was a complete stranger to them.

One of the braver boys stepped forward and said shakily, "It's a rat, sir."

"A rat?" Snape inquired silkily. He scrutinized the circle of children before stalking over and peering down to see Pettigrew, in Animagus form, cowering in the middle. A slight sneer formed at the corners of the wizard's mouth, his eyes sparkling with sadistic amusement. 'How unfortunate for you, Peter. I believe I hold your life in my hands. What ever shall I do?'

As if Pettigrew could read Severus' mind, he let out a loud squeak and ran about desperately seeking an escape. Snape quickly pushed through the children and stamped down on the frantic rat, catching his tail under his boot. Peter squealed out in pain. In one deft move, Snape snatched him up and held the furry figure up in front of his face. With the effects of the Polyjuice still having hold of his body, the bulging eyes of Argus Filch examined the wretched creature, as the wizard contemplated his next move.

"Kill him!" the boy shouted out. His voice had become stronger, and Snape surmised that this Muggle was the ringleader.

"Yes, kill him!" another shouted out.

Then all the children began chanting, "Kill the rat! Kill the rat! Kill the rat!"

Peter began squirming, trying to bite the hand that held him. As much as he enjoyed having this control over Pettigrew, Snape was quite tired from last night's activities. It was time to call an end to this entire disturbance.

Falling into his old classroom behavior, he gave the children an icy look and yelled, "Silence!"

The method worked just as effectively on this gang of misfit Muggles as it did on the students at Hogwarts. The shouting stopped abruptly while they stood unmoving, eyes wide open.

"Now that I have your attention..." Severus let the word hang before continuing. "Suffice it to say, you will not have the pleasure of killing this unfortunate creature. In fact, I have decided to have him for my supper."

Most of the children gasped while some looked rather disgusted.

Using his dramatic talents, the professor resumed his tale of how he would dispose of Wormtail. "You see, I have been living on gruel and cockroaches for many months, and a nice, fresh, juicy rat will be a welcomed treat at my table. I will just keep him alive until mealtime, at which time I will bite off his head and suck out his brain."

Snape heard another collective gasp from his audience. Relishing the fact that he was frightening these Muggles, he carried on. "Then I will peel the skin away from that sweet flesh and devour him whole. Of course," he sighed, "it will not be enough to quench my taste for red meat, so I will be compelled to search for more. Rats, however, are... so small." The wizard glanced intently at each of the children, lingering on several select individuals. "I'm afraid I will have to seek out a larger living species.... Children, perhaps?"

With that said, the gang of kids scattered with nothing left behind but their screams and cries. Snape chuckled to himself, knowing that he wouldn't have to worry about the neighborhood's inhabitants hanging about. He was positive that word of his eccentricities would spread quickly and that the local children would give him a wide berth. It was just what he wanted.

Remembering that he still held fast to Wormtail, Severus brought the Animagus up close to his face. "Seems you owe me a life's debt, don't you agree, Peter?"

The rat squeaked and struggled some more, clearly annoyed at the situation.

"Well, perhaps you can start by preparing me something to eat. I am feeling rather peckish."

The professor turned and walked back into their dwelling, closing the door behind him.

Meanwhile, several houses away, a small girl had been watching the wizard as he spoke to the rat. She had not chased the rat like the rest of the children, but chose, instead, to hide herself behind a corner. The sight of the old man and the rat transfixed young Lucy. As she tried to decipher what was so fascinating about them, a hand grasped her shoulder, causing her to start.

"Lucy, come on."

It was Lucy's older brother, Thomas. The dark-haired boy had come back looking for her.

"That's not a rat," she whispered.

"Well, it certainly looks like a rat," Thomas said, a bit agitated. "Now let's get out of here."

"He's not what he seems... he's evil."

"That man? He's just nutters! Let him be." Thomas tried to pull Lucy away.

"No! The rat is evil!" She continued to stare at the direction of Snape's house. "The man... he's like us."

"What do you mean, like us?" Thomas turned his sister towards him so he could look into her face.

"He's half magic-people, Thomas. Like us! We can trust him. I can feel it in my bones."

Fear and anger took hold and Thomas grabbed Lucy by the shoulders. "Don't talk of it! Don't! It's too dangerous! Now, forget about it, Lucy, and let's go home."

Thomas took his sister's hand and hurried down the narrow street. He knew he would have to tell his mum about Lucy's latest visions. It would probably mean moving yet again, but if it kept their family safe from the evil ones, then that was what they had to do. He had learned early on not to trust anyone, to conceal his parentage as if it were dirty laundry. Half-bloods, he realized, were not safe in either realm.

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Notes:

Quotes from bathroom scene:

1. Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller, Die Piccolomini, Act 2, Sc. 6, 1799

2. Shakespere, Othello, Act 2, Sc. 3

3. A slight variation of a quote by Homer (Simpson, that is)

3. Lord Byron, Don Juan

4. Old English Proverb

5. Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls

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A big thanks goes out to my Beta, Periwinkle, and to those who have encouraged me along on this little smut story (although my dear, departed mother would have told you to "stop encouraging her!"). LOL!