Year Six: A Flash of Eden in Hell

"Severus, Harry has to learn Occlumency; it's the only solution."

The Headmaster sat at his desk looking at Snape with a serene ferocity. Snape sat in the chair across the way looking horrified.

"Then you teach him!" he spat back at the old wizard. "First of all, he hates me. Second of all, the feeling is mutual. Third, he isn't even remotely prepared to concentrate to the level that is required of an Occlumens. Fourth, I don't have time. Fifth, and probably the most viable reason of them all, I just won't do it!"

Dumbledore allowed his chin to rest against his hand as he surveyed the Potions master with a wry smile.

"You know I can't teach him, Severus." As always the man's voice was soothing and calm. "If Voldemort wanted any access to me, he could easily get it through Harry. After this episode with Arthur Weasley, we are now certain that Harry's mind is an open door for Voldemort."

"It could be useful," Snape suggested tentatively.

"It would also be deadly."

"I can't teach that boy anything. He barely passes in Potions," he insisted. "And did you stop to consider that teaching Occlumency requires a fair amount of trust between teacher and subject? Potter wouldn't trust me as far as he could hex me. Frankly, I have to say I feel the same towards him."

Dumbledore sighed. "I realize that I have asked a lot of you and that I have no right to ask yet another favor. But only you can do this, Severus. You and Harry are both very important to this cause, whether you like it or not. You're just going to have to learn to work together. Though I must say that your lack of effort to ebb the flow of vitriol towards Sirius and Remus has been dismaying."

"Sir, they have done more than their part to antagonize me and imply that I do not have a right to even be amongst the Order of the Phoenix," Snape replied with burgeoning anger.

"And being a grown man and not a hot headed young boy anymore, you know not to give in to their taunts. All that matters now is that everyone works together for the common good." There was a firm command to the wizard's words. "Please, Severus, think of what we will accomplish in the long run."

Snape seethed inwardly. 'Of course, disregard the past transgressions and deal with all of the present and future ones same as you did the old; ignore them as childish folly.' And he was supposed to forgive and forget?

"Well, then, you had better explain to Sirius Black that it is I who will be teaching his precious godson Occlumency and that he is not to interfere," Snape snapped at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore thought for a moment. "I'll do that, Severus, but you need to tell Harry yourself. He's at the Order headquarters along with the Weasleys."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Snape came back to Hogwarts in a fiery mood. Black was still an egotistical ass, even after all the years in Azkaban and two years on the run. Nothing would break his smug arrogance. He dared challenge Snape in front of Potter. Once again trying to impress someone like he used to nearly tie himself in knots to impress James. It was uncountable, the number of times Snape had been the target in their attempts to outdo each other. At least young Potter didn't egg Black on as much as his father did. What would Dumbledore say if Snape had come back with the terrible news that he had just had to kill them both? Snape allowed the chilling thought to soothe him.

He prepared for his first session with Potter by again borrowing the Pensieve from Dumbledore so there would be no worry that the boy might stumble across some embarrassing and private moments best kept unseen.

The knock on his door was too early for Potter, who would no doubt put off coming down to the dungeon for as long as possible. Instead Davindra stepped through.

"What do you want?" he asked with far less irritability than normal, for he actually felt a slight pleasure in seeing her again.

"I had a lovely Christmas, thank you for asking. And you?" she replied brightly with a smile.

Snape rolled his eyes. "I have an appointment in a few moments, Miss Collins. Pardon my being rude, but what do you want?"

"Well, I guess I'll skip asking if you missed me, then."

"Please do, the answer would only disappoint you."

"I want to ask you something, and I want you to give me an honest answer."

"This isn't about dress robes again is it?" he replied with a flippant air.

"No, it's about my grandmother." There was a seriousness in her tone that made Snape stop what he was doing and look at her. "Is she a Death Eater?"

The question was so startling, blunt, and absurd that Snape actually chuckled. Then he saw the solemn look on Davindra's face remain in place and knew that she wasn't joking.

"What makes you ask such a thing?"

"I spent most of Christmas at Granny Lilly's with my Mother. Grandmother only came for a little while on Christmas day. Normally we are either at her house or our home, and she is there constantly. No one even talked about the change this year. But when she was there, she mentioned the Dark Lord several times."

Snape considered the story. "The Dark Lord is a timely topic amongst a lot of wizard families. That's not unusual in itself," he replied calmly.

"But she talked about it like it was exciting. She didn't come right out and say she supported him, but she kept talking about all these changes that could happen and how some of them might be good. And she still wouldn't say what she had been doing for the past few months. She ignored all my questions on it. And Granny Lilly and Mother just acted uncomfortable around her. That's never happened before." Davindra began to sound more agitated as she continued. She started a nervous pace about the room.

Snape had heard at one time that Demelza Collins was suspected of working subversively for the Dark Lord. But nothing was proven, and as far as he knew, she'd never been brought before the Ministry on any charges. Davindra's allegations were intriguing, and Snape did stop to consider their validity.

"There was talk at one time, many years ago," Snape said honestly. "But nothing was ever proven or even investigated. I think it was just residual paranoia after the Dark Lord's fall."

"I asked Mother about that." Davindra sat herself on her usual stool. "She said that Grandmother had made a special potion for someone who was later found to be a Death Eater. But Grandmother didn't know it at the time, and she even believed the potion was for personal use and not for Death Eater activity."

"That sounds reasonable," he uttered, his mind still turning over all the possibilities but not wanting to cause undo alarm to her.

Davindra was slowly shaking her head, staring at the floor, and chewing her bottom lip in furious thought. "Something just isn't right."

"Miss Collins, I'm really not able to answer your question on this, and besides, I told you, I'm expecting someone." Snape needed her gone so that he could concentrate on Potter, but also her intrusive meddling was getting uncomfortable.

"I asked you to be honest with me, Professor," she demanded firmly.

Snape felt his temper beginning to fray. "How would I know such things to be honest about them?" he bellowed.

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater," she replied with a candid stare.

He loathed that phrase and that mentality. Though he expected such sentiment from the likes of Black and Lupin, he hadn't expected such a traitorous insult from her. It was exactly the attitude that forced him to take shelter behind Dumbledore's robes and kept him a slave to the Order.

Snape glared at Davindra murderously. "You impertinent little bitch, what would you know about it?" he growled viciously. "I suggest you leave now before I throw you out, and stop bothering me with preposterous ideas."

Davindra gave a sound of impatience. "I know that you're not really one of them," she said, completely disregarding his furious words. "I know that you work for Dumbledore now, but you have to stay a Death Eater or else they wouldn't give you any information. They might even kill you."

She spoke as if this was all common knowledge she'd attained from the front page of the Daily Prophet. Snape stared at her with stunned horror.

"Where do you hear these things?" he shouted incredulously.

"Grandmother told me years ago about your past," she again spoke casually.

"Davindra, get out. I'm not going to tell you again." Snape walked over to the stool she sat on and took her arm in his grasp to begin pulling her toward the door. His quick movements kept her struggling to a minimum.

Before he managed to slam the door in her face, she gave him a incensed look. "You know, I came to you because I trusted you, and I thought this might even help you."

"I don't need your help. Goodbye." Snape slammed the door without another look.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The first session with Potter was predictably disastrous. Snape was able to repeatedly crawl into his mind as easily as he crawled into his own bed. Though he did have to admit that there were almost as many atrocious, degrading memories in Potter's head as their were in Snape's. Was it possible that there was a childhood more miserable than his own?

The next Order of the Phoenix meeting was the first chance Snape had to speak with Dumbledore. And though the Headmaster often left as soon as the last words were spoken, for some reason he must have caught Snape's fervent glances and sought him out as people began their usual post-meeting socialization.

The old wizard's first words were devoted to the Potter boy's progress in Occlumency.

"Sir, he is a dismal failure, as I've predicted all along," Snape replied with weary sentiment.

"It's not as though you are teaching him knitting, Severus," Dumbledore stated with raised eyebrows. "Occlumency is a very difficult skill to master. Surely you didn't have success on your first try."

Snape gave the man a boastful look. Actually, he had achieved quite a lot in only his first few attempts at Occlumency as a young boy. It was an easy talent for him. Legilimency had been even easier.

Dumbledore seemed to get the message. "Ah, well, then you just must remember Harry is not you. Have patience with him and don't give up."

Attempting to keep his brow unsnarled at the thoughts of forcing patient, coaxing words of encouragement in Potter's direction was proving impossible. Snape moved on to what he had originally wanted the Headmaster's ear for. First he paused to look around the room to see that no one was taking notice of their words.

"Sir, there is something I was wanting to discuss with you. Davindra Collins came to me after the start of the term in quite a state. She seems to have concern that Madame Collins might have involvement with the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore had a look of mild intrigue on his face as he asked for the details of the discussion. After Snape had finished, the old wizard continued to look at him with intense concentration, though he remained silent. Snape simply waited for the man to ready his thoughts for expression.

"If you remember, during the first war family members grew suspicious of one another and started believing the worst of their most cherished loved-ones. Paranoia like I haven't seen before nor since. It caused a lot of trouble for some good, innocent people." He let out a sad sigh. "Once again I've no doubt there are many people we would be surprised to hear have more than a passing interest in the Dark Lord's return. Though I do find it hard to believe that someone as clever, talented, and well connected as Demelza Collins might be in those ranks. What do you think, Severus?"

Snape again looked about to find the room becoming more empty. He then replied in an appropriately lowered voice. "There were rumors in the past which I might not pay any heed to except she has been noticeably quiet since last summer. I have not heard from her, and Miss Collins says even their communication has been limited. It would take something very important to pull Madame Collins's focus away from her granddaughter."

Dumbledore nodded. "See what you can find out. Encourage Davindra to talk to you about whatever she see and hears. If Madame Collins is really moving amongst the Death Eater circle, she will eventually become visible to someone."

Before Snape could reply, Sirius Black had sauntered up to the two men. He had a pleasant smile plastered on his face for Dumbledore's benefit, but his eyes flashed a second of expressed loathing at Snape.

"Albus, how's Harry coming with his Occlumency?" Black asked with annoying good nature.

Snape rolled his eyes at the fact that every conversation always came back to the Boy Wonder.

"I was just talking to Severus about that," Dumbledore replied motioning toward the Potions master.

Snape returned a sneering, patronizing smile to Black who grimaced a snarl back.

"It appears your godson has no talent for Occlumency. So it remains that I must continue in my fruitless attempts to pound some amount of knowledge into his thick skull," Snape said in a silky manner.

Black's finger came up to Snape's nose. "You lay a finger on Harry, and I'll have your greasy head on a stick."

"If you do not stop sticking that grimy finger of yours in my face, I'm going to turn it into a cucumber," Snape threatened in reply.

Black turned to Dumbledore. "If Harry needs extra help, he should come to me or Remus, to someone he trusts," he said passionately.

"Unfortunately he is not in need of learning the art of doxy extermination or flea control," Snape retorted.

"Boys, I cannot tell you how being in your presence makes me feel twenty-five years younger," Dumbledore interrupted in a firm tone. "Mostly because you two act just like you did at thirteen. And frankly, it's exhausting."

Both grown men cast their searing stares down in embarrassed shame for incurring the Headmaster's stern words.

"Sirius, Severus has never, in fourteen years of teaching, lain a physically damaging finger on any student," the man said patiently to Black.

"It's not his fingers that are the most damaging," Black snarled. "It's that twisted, dark mind of his."

Dumbledore turned his bright blue eyes to Snape in contemplation though he rested a hand on Black's shoulder. "His mind is an amazing storehouse of Dark knowledge, I do agree. Then who better to be in charge of instructing your godson in the ways of protecting his very valuable mind from the darkest wizard of them all?"

They spoke as if Snape were an inanimate object unable to hear or reply to their critiques. He felt another exaggerated eye roll coming upon him.

"If we are done here, Headmaster, I do need to return to the school. Papers to grade, students to torture, you know." He inclined his head with a devious smile toward Black and exited the headquarters with a swirl of black cloak.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Snape wasn't sure how he would once again attempt to win over Davindra's confidence when he had so callously tossed her from his office. He was reminded of her accusations from the start of the last term. They did indeed have a dance that they repeated the steps to frequently. If he went back to her again, begging for her time so he could grovel her forgiveness and ask for yet another favor, she might finally figure out she was right about them. He doubted his own ego could survive such a revelation. It would be best if she came to him.

He began with watching her. He knew she both hated and craved his eyes to be on her at all times. However, he was more careful than he had been in the past. Umbridge still prowled about looking for anything to put a teacher on report about.

Astute as always, Davindra noticed quickly that Snape's eyes followed her more than he usually allowed. She would return his look but with a shade of coolness still echoing the pain of their last encounter. And it wasn't long before she herself began to exploit his captured attention to her own benefit. Suddenly almost any boy within her reach was worthy of lavish attention. All Snape had to do was walk in her direction and Davindra was suddenly enraptured with the words of her latest companion. To make matters worse, she sought out some of the most vexing choices she could possibly find. Outrageous flirting with Gryffindors of all ages, a resumed friendship with Draco Malfoy, and even smiles and playful greetings to Hero Potter himself were part of her dastardly plan to drive Snape mad.

Within just a few weeks, he overheard the conversation of a small cluster of seventh-years talking about Davindra's spiraling reputation and the ease at which she could be had. Resisting the urge to physically wring their scrawny, hormonal necks, Snape simply made his presence known, which broke up the little boasting party and sent them scurrying.

Though most of it was undoubtedly exaggerated bragging of teenage boys, it still made Snape's stomach turn. The one soothing thought was to know that no one else but him could take the bragging rights of being her first.

After a day of annoying classes with imbecilic students creating disappointing messes out of valuable potion ingredients, Snape opened his classroom doors to find Davindra hanging about the entrance to the dungeon in the arms of a rather quiet, unremarkable Hufflepuff. They stood with their heads together, talking quietly. The boy seemed quite pleased to be in his fortunate position, one in which he probably had not been before. He smiled shyly and took quick, coy looks into Davindra's enticing eyes.

Snape approached slowly, feeling a burn begin in his chest, and his fingers automatically searching for his wand. The boy noticed the approaching teacher and attempted to straighten himself. But without even a look in Snape's direction, Davindra grabbed the boy and planted a firm, lengthy kiss on his unprepared lips. Startled at first and unsure which required his attention, the angry approaching Potions master or the girl clinging to him, the boy seemed to struggle between wanting to pull away and wanting to return the kiss.

Davindra only allowed the kiss to be broken when Snape slid quietly beside the couple. The three stood together in silence for a few moments. The Hufflepuff looking mortified, Davindra looking innocently amused, and Snape doing his best to look disinterested and vaguely repulsed.

"If you two are done with your lascivious display of germ exchanging, then I suggest you move along." Snape kept his voice smooth and dark. "The dinner hour is approaching, unless devouring each other's faces has spoiled your appetites."

The boy murmured a hasty, "Sorry, sir," and a mumbled excuse to Davindra, then took off, not looking behind him. Davindra remained at her spot against the wall, but with her arms crossed and a look of angry impatience aimed at Snape. He leveled a wicked smirk back at her and crooked his finger in command that she follow him.

With a sigh of disgust, she picked up her book bag and followed him down to his office. Once inside she put on her best surly attitude and didn't look at him or speak.

Snape found himself wishing for a shot of calming draught or Firewhisky to make his unconcerned exterior easier to hold. But he dare not partake in front of her because she undoubtedly would see it as weakness.

"Miss Collins," he started in a business-like tone, "after some consideration, I believe that your concerns regarding your grandmother may indeed be worth investigating. I too have noticed increasingly odd behavior from her and have wondered of its nature. Again, I'm sorry for my abruptness when we last spoke, but you did catch me at a bad time. On reflection, I think any information you could relay to me would be beneficial in ensuring your protection as well as that of your family."

He ended with a slight, thin, pained smile that he knew never came anywhere close to settling in his murky, black eyes.

Davindra cocked her head and shot him an unimpressed look. "Really, now? Another apology. That means either you are terribly slow on the up-take and actually feel bad for being a prick or you want something from me. I vote for the latter!"

Snape felt his smile turn into a sneer. "Language, Miss Collins. You could garner an unpleasant detention for insulting a teacher so viciously."

She rolled her eyes and dropped her bag to the floor. "Do your worst, sir," she said with a dramatic opening of her arms and shake of her hair. "But first tell me what it is that you are wanting from me this time."

An insolent fury began to brew inside Snape, and he found himself sliding around his desk to face her, his eyes burning slits of malice and his teeth bared.

"And what exactly were you attempting to gain with that lewd display right outside my door?"

A cock of her eyebrow and an unflappable smirk told him that she was not concerned with his rage. "Actually, I think I got what I was hoping for by the looks of you."

Snape gave her a deathly glare. "I have no idea what you are talking about except that I am finding your childish games tiresome and pathetic. It will be your own problem if you transform yourself into the Hogwarts whore."

She only chuckled at his bitter words, causing him to feel even more violent loathing for her.

"Remember I told you that after six years, I have learned quite a bit about you," she said calmly. "Just last summer I realized you had a trait that was going to be most useful to me in my quest. And funny, it's been in front of me all the time! I just didn't recognize it."

Her eyes sparkled triumphantly as she spoke, and Snape felt a cold nausea uncoil in his stomach when he realized how much she reminded him of Madame Collins just then.

"You, Severus Snape, are insanely possessive of whatever you assume to be yours. And strangely enough, you don't even care about it or feel territorial until someone tries to take it from you." She was starting to speak in an animated, precise way much like a lecturer would do in a great classroom. Her enthusiasm for the dissemination of this bit of insight into him was vaguely frightening.

"But if you perceive any threat to your property, you become single mindedly obsessed to keep it within your grasp at all costs. It nearly drives you insane until you've annihilated all challengers to your rights."

She stepped a little closer to him and continued her knowing smile. When she again spoke, her voice was alarmingly low and soft.

"You know what I want from you, Severus. And if I have to snog every boy in this school to get it, I will."

Still closer she came, leaning in to whisper into his ear. "And if that doesn't work, I'll fuck anyone who will have me."

Davindra pulled away, a self-satisfied smirk on her lips. "Maybe if that doesn't do it, it will at least erase the memory of you from my mind."

Before he knew what he had done, Snape had flown at the girl and slammed her body into the door several feet behind them. His hand came over her mouth to stop any more disgusting filth from spewing forth. She seemed stunned at his sudden attack and struggled for breath beneath his hand, her eyes wide with frightened surprise.

It took several seconds for him to even find his voice amongst the furious chaos inside his head.

"You vindictive little cunt," he snarled between panting gasps for air. "Your punishment should be to have exactly what you wish for."

He took his hand from her mouth only to immediately cover it with his own in a hard, suffocating kiss. Muffled gasps for air sounded from under her lips as Snape forced his way into her depths to aggressively wrestling his tongue against hers.

Keeping her body crushed under him, he held her head in place with his hands, his fingers gnarled into her hair. She was unable to move against him. But his angry kisses didn't paralyze her with fear. He could tell that her lips conformed themselves to his own and her tongue returned his strokes. Her arms went around him to clutch desperately.

'I should have known she would enjoy being mauled like a common piece of trash,' he thought lasciviously as he kissed her harder and allowed one hand to trail down her body to her breast.

Her quiet groan of pleasure vibrated against his mouth and sent a hot jet of desire straight into his groin. The pulsating pressure of his erection called like an insistent alarm, demanding to be heeded. With hands nearly shaking from need, Snape reached under his long coat and unfastened his pants. Taking her hand in his, he shoved it into the depths of his trousers and gripped her fingers around his aching shaft. Just the sensation of her cool hand on him made him shudder with anticipated pleasure.

The kisses unabated, Snape moved Davindra's hand in slow, firm strokes. Keeping a tight grasp on them both, he showed her the way he wanted to be touched. His own gasps of lust and longing sounding against her lips. Soon, Snape removed his hand from hers and allowed her to continue her newly acquired skill.

As his body began to tense and tingle in the apex of his desire, Snape found his kisses softening and becoming more languid and indulgent. He was kissing her face, her neck, and her ear as he panted and prayed for release. His breath caught when the orgasm sprang from deep inside him and groaned loudly as it deliciously released itself in exquisite bursts of ecstasy. He felt as if a lifetime's worth of caged desire had been mercifully freed, and his body sagged against Davindra's in weak, thankful submission.

But slowly he regained himself and pulled his head up to look into her eyes, now glassy with unrequited need. Her hand still rested inside his pants, covered in his semen. Snape placed his own hands on either side of the door they leaned against and gave her the hardest stare he could muster after such deflating pleasure.

"If we do this, we do it my way, by my rules," he began in a raspy, yet firm voice. "You will have no control over when, how, where or why. You will attempt no more of your childish mind games on me. You will obey my every command."

Mutely, Davindra nodded, her eyes fixating on his lips as though she only wished to feel them on her once again.

"This relationship will only exist within these walls. Outside of it I am nothing more than your teacher. You will treat me no differently than you have the last six years when we are anything but alone. Likewise, I will not change how you are treated in the classroom and halls. Getting caught is not an option. If anyone even suspects anything, it is over."

Again she nodded.

"And don't expect any romantic prose or sentiments from me, for you will be disappointed. This is not your conquest fulfilled. This is an arrangement of convenient desires."

Finally, she spoke in a soft shaky voice. "When?"

He knew she wanted to know of their next encounter. He thought for a moment.

"The next Hogsmeade weekend. Make an excuse not to go. You're sick or have to do a report. Then you will come to me."

He gave her a cold, unfathomable look as he pulled away and reached for his wand to clean them both.

Davindra didn't move from her place against the door, as though he had permanently imbedded her into it. A look of pained desire remained on her face.

Snape smiled wickedly. 'Let her nurse a little tortured lust for a while and see how it feels.'

"You're excused, Miss Collins," he drawled smoothly.

Weakly, Davindra peeled herself from the door and staggered to her bag, which she picked up off the floor. With a bitter, longing gaze, she slowly turned to leave his office.

"And, by the way," Snape interjected, suddenly remembering the point of their meeting, "please do inform me of any more suspicions you have about your grandmother. It seems that it will be quite useful after all."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Afterward Snape felt strangely at peace with the arrangement set out before them. He knew he should be wracked with guilt, shame, disgust, and even regret. But instead he had a strong sense of relief. At least one of his fights was over. There would be no more battles of wills to see who would break first and who would be driven over the edge from rage and jealousy. With all the directions that Snape felt he was being pulled in, relinquishing the front line on this particular war was liberating.

His only worry would be to keep the relationship quiet. He wasn't the first and only staff member to have had an illicit affair with a student. He had heard many stories through the years. But it would be the first for him, and now was not the time to incur Dumbledore's wrath and be out of a job. The entire expanse of his skin prickled with forbidden excitement at the prospect of skirting such danger. Snape found himself quite looking forward to the next Hogsmeade weekend.

The mass breakout at Azkaban was a startling blow to the Order. Old members of the Dark Lord's forces such as the LeStranges, Dolohov, and Rookwood would prove to be as deadly as the master they were so quickly flocking to. The Azkaban guards, the Dementors, were more than likely now on the side of the Dark One. The one place in the world that allowed wizards to feel as though there was some modicum of safety left between them and true evil was now breached.

When Snape answered the call to a gloriously happy Dark Lord, he saw for himself the former Death Eaters who were equally enraptured with their new freedom. Smug, arrogant Bellatrix LeStrange fought for her place closest to the master's feet and gazed at him with such delirious pride and awe that Snape believed he might be ill. When her eyes fell on Snape, she resumed her usual haughty snarl. At one time sexy and alluring, prison had reduced her to simply hard and worn, though her manner still spoke of confident pride.

There had been a bizarre chemistry between them in the old days of their service together. They had never liked, trusted, or respected one another, but biting innuendo and bawdy insult always seemed to signal a twisted curiosity they had for each other. For all her talk about pure-blood superiority, Snape always figured he could have had her if he wished; her husband, Rodolphus, hardly an issue. But he suspected that, even in the bedroom, Bellatrix took the position of dominance, and Snape had no desire to find himself tied spread-eagle on a bed and at her mercy.

Dumbledore was greatly distressed to hear of the rising number of experienced Death Eaters who were joining ranks in the plan to steal the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries. Snape hated to give him the further bad news that Harry Potter's dreams were only allowing the Dark Lord more progress into the boy's mind and that his Occlumency talent was still unimpressive.

By the day of the Hogsmeade trip, Snape was nearly twitching with nervous energy in search of an outlet. When Davindra appeared at his office door late that morning, he attempted to look impassive and unmoved. But he felt positively electric. She looked somewhere between anxious and terrified. And she looked pretty, Snape had to admit. Obviously, she had gone to some effort for this meeting. Her hair was loose, and she wore a pull-over top of pale green, her make up was minimal but effective, and a sweet, fruity fragrance floated about the air around her.

Snape didn't speak to her, but simply rose from his desk where he had been attempting to work, and headed to the door to his chambers. He held it open and turned to indicate for her to go ahead of him. She took in a shaky breath and walked ahead with her head held bravely.

Down the dark stairway to his personal chambers they went in equal silence. Once inside they still did not speak for several moments. She looked around at his room, perhaps remembering the last time she was there.

It wasn't a large space but it was comfortable enough. A small sitting area with a few worn chairs and a small table for eating. Set off to the side was the sleeping area with his bed and wardrobe. A large fireplace gave enough warmth for the entire room, though Snape liked it cool when he slept, so it wasn't used much. It was furnished sparsely but cluttered in various spots with books, papers, potions supplies, and clothing. The house-elves weren't due back in for another week. But he hadn't wanted it to look as though he had prepared for this event anyway.

He moved to take off his robe and drape it over a chair. "What did you tell your friends today?" he asked.

"I said I didn't feel well and that I was going to see Madam Pomfrey," she replied.

"You don't look bad enough to be ill," he commented.

She smiled. "I stopped at one of the bathrooms on the way."

"It's not as though that were necessary." He put a sneering edge to his voice, but deep down he was slightly flattered.

They stood the room's width apart, their eyes darting about everywhere but on each other.

'Fuck, this was so much less awkward when I just forced myself on her! This is why I don't date.' Snape raged to himself.

Davindra wrapped her arms around herself. "It's rather cold. Do you think we could have a fire?"

Grateful for something to do, Snape nodded and waved his wand at the empty hearth. A blazing fire immediately began to fill the room with added light and a radiating warmth.

She moved closer to it. She appeared to be shaking, though Snape doubted it was honestly from the cold. Suddenly, he did feel guilty and he did feel ashamed.

"Miss Collins, perhaps you really aren't well," he said quietly. "Perhaps you had better go back to your dormitory."

Davindra looked at him with a startled expression. "No! No, I'm fine. I'm just... nervous," she ended with an unsure smile.

Snape sighed. "I'll give you one more chance to walk out of here," he said. "Then after that, there will be no turning back. You must be very sure of yourself, Davindra."

Her eyes finally found his, and she nodded with a serious manner. "I know." Her voice was soft and light. "I'm sure."

Turning from the fire, Davindra walked to his bed. Snape's eyes followed her. She began stripping off her clothes in a casual way, as though she were preparing herself for a night's sleep. The top came over her head, revealing a white bra. The shoes were kicked off and her pants unfastened and pushed down her legs. Free of everything, she began straightening the bed linens and finally sat down, pulling the sheets to her chest.

Snape hadn't moved from his own spot near the fireplace as he had watched her routine. She sat looking at him expectantly. It was his move now. Slowly he began unbuttoning his coat. Doing it by hand instead of using his wand was buying him some time to think, to calm himself. She watched him with growing warmth and reverence as he moved closer and finally slid the heavy coat from his body and tossed it to a chair.

At the side of the bed, he stood staring down at her. Her skin looked like creamy velvet in the soft light of the fire; her eyes flickered not unlike the flames that cast its reflection in them. Again she smiled with assurance. Snape reached out a hand to touch her and found her cheek pressed against his palm, his fingers in her hair.

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her face near him. For several seconds he examined her from a perspective so close that her features blurred. In that blurry moment he shut off every sound of regret or worry that had spoken to him since she had arrived. He wanted to again lose himself in pure unadulterated need and desire as he had done the first time she had been there. It wasn't hard to find. The moment his lips touched hers, he found the aching passion rose in him so swiftly it nearly made him breathless.

Next they were intertwined together; her naked body, the sheets, his long limbs, and his disheveled but unshed clothes. Hungrily they pawed and clawed at each other, their mouths seeking sustenance of some higher nourishment than mere food or drink could ever give.

Davindra's passion overtook any lack of experience she suffered from, and Snape found her touches and exploration startlingly mature. If it were possible for him to be any closer to ecstasy, she would undoubtedly take him there simply with the stroke of her hand against his flesh.

Hoping to slow the pace of adventure, Snape pinned her wrists to her side as he let his mouth taste, kiss, and discover every part of her body. Sounds of surprise, pleasure, and even discomfort spurred him on his path until he found himself pressing his lips into the dark, silky curls between her legs. Any doubt or mistrust in his intentions was forgotten as his tongue began to stroke in alternating flicks and circles.

Soon her hand was in his hair and her breathless, pleading voice begged him not to stop. At that point he would have pledged his life to the pursuit of her pleasure. Her heat and wetness drove his own need to almost the breaking point.

In desperate, trembling cries she came. Snape thought with satisfaction that it was probably for the first time at the hands of someone else.

Immediately he was prepared to enter her and again experience the intoxicating sensation of her young, tight body. This time she was far more ready for him, and any cries she gave were of continued pleasure and want.

He kissed her wildly, the residual salty moisture on his face from her pleasure now smeared onto her own. She responded in equal fervor, either uncaring of the mess or enjoying the lewdness of sharing each other so intimately.

Snape felt himself climaxing far more quickly than he would have liked. But the building pressure was advancing at a rush that he felt powerless to control. When the rapturous event was over and he overcame the brief moment of not even remembering where he was or who he was with, he looked down at the face below him.

Hair snarled about her head and make-up smeared, she was undeniably still beautiful. Snape slid from her body to lie beside of her. Immediately he missed her warmth and held out his arm for her to rest against his chest. She snuggled into him contentedly.

Neither spoke and the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire. Finally she rose up on her elbows to look at him. Keeping his face expressionless, he gazed back.

Her smile was both demure and wanton. "That was bloody fantastic." She laughed and blushed at her own candor.

Snape resisted his own smile and simply raised his eyebrows in apathy. "Your participation level has improved at least," he replied in a dry manner.

"So it does get better," she said, the smile still plastered upon her face.

"As I said, it depends."

Reaching out, Davindra stroked a few strands of his hair from his face. Her fingers floated into his hair, then traced a line down his face. Snape allowed the attention without rebuke or response. She ended her caress with a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Remember our last conversation regarding your grandmother's possible Dark activities?" he asked informally.

Davindra nodded and continued her trail of touches to the open area of his shirt. When her fingers began to trace the outline of an old hex scar, Snape took her hand in his to still its progress.

"Is there anything more you can tell me? Do you know anything about who she may have met or things she may have done?"

Lazily entwining her fingers in his, she sighed. "I can't think of anything else, really. The thing is she won't talk about anything, which is what is so unusual. Normally, she is full of gossip and stories about the people she sees or work she does. That's what's so odd. She's suddenly become secretive."

"You know you can trust me with anything," he reminded her. "There is no reason to be afraid. We can make sure you and your mother are protected."

"We?" she asked with interest.

"We as in others besides just myself," he replied.

"So you really are working against the Dark Lord," she asked, worry tinged her words and eyes.

Snape pulled her body on top of his. "There are many thing that you will be best kept ignorant of. The things I do outside of Hogwarts are one of them."

He put his hands in her long hair and combed them through, ignoring the look of sadness on her face.

"Now, tell me," he asked casually, "are you familiar with the term fellatio?"

She wasn't. But true to her character, she was a very quick study.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

And so it began. They dove into the most dangerous relationship conceivable during the most difficult time and in the least private environment possible. It was intoxicating. Snape felt drunk on bootleg liquor, giddy from illegal hallucinogens. He found himself looking at his entire week's schedule with a sharp eye for any time he could sneak Davindra into his chambers for just a few hours.

When he could find the time, it was like injecting a calming draught directly into his veins. Potter was no better in his Occlumency skills. Umbridge was on the verge of taking over the school, which was plagued by rebellious pandemonium. The Dark Lord and fellow Death Eaters demanded more proof of his loyalty, and the Order demanded more information as to the Dark Lord's plans. The Slytherin Quidditch team was performing appallingly, and Neville Longbottom had almost single-handedly destroyed the Potions classroom.

But when Snape held Davindra's long, lean body against him, slipped inside, and felt her hands roam about him and her breathy moans in his ear, the entire world could have disintegrated into ash, and Snape could not have cared less. It was time that was solely his and only about him, for him. It was the one truly selfish, hedonistic pleasure he had allowed himself in some time.

Pleasantly surprising was the fact that she seemed as sexually veracious as he, despite her inexperience. Her curiosity and interest in sex allowed him to suggest and do most anything he pleased. In most instances it was a successful endeavor, which was added to the expanding repertoire of activities to be drawn from later. There was only one request from her, which came a few weeks into their arrangement.

They lay in the bed after another gloriously fulfilling round of sexual exchange, when she said to him, "Why don't you ever take off your clothes?"

He gave her an unexpressive look and in a dead-pan voice said, "I'm shy."

Normally, he had no inhibitions, but for some reason the awareness of his aging, scarred, thin, pale body seemed unworthy in her presence.

Davindra rolled her eyes. "Right. I am always completely starkers, and you remain almost fully clothed. That's not particularly fair. Is it the scars and tattoos? It's not like I don't know about them. So, I don't understand what you're trying to hiding. And it's not like I didn't spent the last six years wondering and fantasizing about what was under all those layers of black."

Snape gave her an aggravated look. She returned one of equal impatience. If she really wanted to see it all, he shouldn't deny her the ugly truth. If she ran screaming, he swore to himself that he wouldn't be affected. Giving a growl of annoyance, Snape sat up and tugged the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. The already open pants, he pushed down his legs and sent them over the edge too. Now as bare as she, he laid back down, giving her a full view and a wave of his hands in invitation to judge.

She did look slightly taken aback. But instead of turning away, she gently reached out and touched a tattoo of a snake that started near his stomach and coiled around his side to end on his lower back. Then her hands went to a long scar that ran diagonally across his chest. Next she traced the faded, squiggly numbers over his heart that were inked into him after his arrival at Azkaban. A flourish of very old cigarette burns on his upper arms caught her attention next.

Snape watched for signs of revulsion and horror, but instead saw only amazement and sad awareness.

"I don't need your pity," he reminded her darkly.

Davindra looked to his face, shook her head, and smiled softly. "You're beautiful," she whispered.

His first response was to toss her bodily from his bed for such cheek. Then he almost felt the urge to laugh. But her face held so much honesty; he feared worst of all that she spoke what she really believed.

To accentuate her words, she leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the numbers on his chest, then the nearest scar, then down his stomach. Finally she spied his left forearm and pulled it up to gaze at the inky Dark Mark. Snape felt an urge to pull away from her, his most shameful defacement now under her scrutiny. When she leaned in and placed an equally delicate kiss against the now quiet serpent and skull, Snape felt his breath catch. Her tongue began to trace the outline of the Mark, and he felt his blood grow hot under her caress. For nearly an hour she explored and worshiped every part of him that captured her eye, never once seeming anything but in awe and reverence at the inscriptions of cruelty that he bore.

However, there was another, surprising side to these stolen moments of carnal consumption. When time allowed, they talked. Snape thought it the most unusual aspect of their relationship for he had never both fucked AND talked to any woman in his life. But she inspired it in him. Sometimes it was conversations about potions and ingredients. Other times the topics were as broad as the history of alchemy or ancient wizards and legends. And there was the endlessly fascinating topic of Hogwarts gossip, in which Snape always insisted he had no interest, but could never help getting caught up in the sordid details of the various rivals, love affairs, secrets, and catastrophes of the student body. And though he would never divulge such information about his fellow staff, Snape did sometimes repeat old stories about former faculty that had been passed on to him. Occasionally she asked of his childhood or his years at school, but he often cleverly avoided answering her, instead inquiring of her own experiences.

Soon, their precious time would be gone and Snape would order her to go, but with words far more harsh than his heart required. During one lazy weekend afternoon, Davindra seemed especially resistant to leave his bed. She stayed sprawled out on her stomach under the sheets even after several orders to dress and long after Snape himself was fully clothed.

Finally Snape tore the sheet from the bed, leaving her completely exposed, and delivered a sharp smack to her bare ass, which caused her to jump in shock and pain.

"Up! I won't tell you again," he shouted, a little more venom coming to his words.

Slowly, with a snarled brow, she pulled herself up from the bed. Only then did Snape notice a strange mark above her right buttocks. It was dusky pink, about the size of a coin, and shaped like a sort of goblet.

"What is that?" he asked.

"What?"

"That mark above your ass," he said, touching the flat, smooth mark.

"Oh, that's my birthmark!" she said reaching back to touch it herself. "Doesn't it look like a chalice or cup? I've always had it."

"I hadn't noticed that particular deformity before," he commented glibly, finding it hard to not stare at the unusual defect.

"Deformity?" she gasped in mock offense. "I always thought it was sort of cute. But I'm surprised," she replied, finally beginning to step into her clothes. "You've had that substantial nose of yours just about everywhere on me. Can't believe you would have missed anything."

They exchanged sneering smiles. When she finished dressing, Davindra came to him and wrapped her arms around him in a ferocious hug and a long, sensuous kiss.

"Again soon?" she asked of their next engagement.

"We'll see," he uttered coolly. "And don't let anyone see you leaving here."

She kissed him again and left his chambers.

Snape snorted a laugh at his own pathetic acting skills. From this moment on he would think of little else but the next time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Snape sat in his office with the latest copy of the Quibbler in his hands. Never before had he given the atrocious rag a second look. But since Potter had given a full interview to the newly resurfaced Rita Skeeter, it suddenly had new credibility amongst many people. Surprisingly, almost all the facts seemed correct, given what Snape knew. Dumbledore had seemed mildly amused and even impressed at the article and Potter's audacity. The Dark Lord would be far less impressed. Perhaps even more so than Dolores Umbridge who at that moment was on a stark raving fit to confiscate every copy of the Quibbler she could get her little stubby-fingered hands on.

Occlumency lessons had continued on a disappointing level except for a few moments of success. But the information that Potter stored in his head under the delusion of only a dream was actually valuable for Dumbledore and the Order to know. If only Snape could spend more time inside looking about. As it was, he had mistakenly allowed the boy a brief glimpse into his own distant past, which proved embarrassing. But it did show some progress. Not that Hero Potter appreciated it. His glares and snide remarks told Snape that he was reluctantly learning this task. If only Dumbledore would tell the blasted child the real reason, he might actually make an effort. As it was, Snape and Potter both felt they were wasting their time.

Umbridge managed to finally get rid of Professor Trelawney, or at least she attempted to. It was a pitiful sight, the Divinations teacher shrieking like a child in front of every single resident of Hogwarts. Though no one was surprised by the event, most everyone felt shame and loathing that it had to come about that way. No one there would have trouble choosing sides when Umbridge was on one of them. The staff was greatly unnerved after the incident because they all knew any one of them could be next.

Despite everyone's heightened paranoia and strict new rules appearing every day, Davindra and Snape started to become careless about their meetings. It started with a few heavily heated make-out sessions in his office when neither schedule allowed for any lengthy time together and became like a new facet of the game. Suddenly it was incredibly arousing to see how far they could go before someone suspected something. It ranged from him brushing past her in Potions class and letting his hand trail against her ass to actually meeting on the edge of the Forbidden Forest while the rest of the school was at a Quidditch match for a quick tussle against a tree where Snape ended up with grass stains on his knees and Davindra had scrapes on her backside from the rough bark.

Each time he would later say that they couldn't take that chance again. But then he'd find her alone in a corner of the library on a quiet evening, and his mind and his hands simply would not obey. And she was never one to admonish any of his advances.

When Snape was called to the Headmaster's office, his first thought was that he had been seen; they had been found out. Panic raced through him, and he pulled every Occlumency mind clearing and relaxation trick he knew to prepare himself for a confrontation.

He was no less surprised to walk into Dumbledore's office to find Madame Collins awaiting his arrival along with the old wizard.

"Madame Collins," Snape managed with calm ease, "what brings you here? Is there a problem with your granddaughter?"

Dumbledore looked placid as ever and gave no early clue as to what might be on the agenda.

"Actually, Severus," the woman began in an equally soothing voice, "I'm here to clear the air."

Snape looked to Dumbledore, then back to Madame Collins. "I beg your pardon?"

"I hear that you have been inquiring of me and my activities," she went on. "There is some suspicion that I could be practicing some dark deeds or associating with an undesirable sort."

At least he could rule out anything involving Davindra, but now he had to set his mind to the real matter at hand. He kept his eyes at a constant dark chill, though he allowed his face to relax into a thoughtful scowl. Again his eyes darted to Dumbledore who remained impassive.

"Severus, if you or Albus wanted to know such things, I would have preferred you ask me yourselves." In her voice was a well rehearsed pained remorse that Snape had learned to never believe. "Instead you spy on me and ask questions of my friends and even suggest my own granddaughter distrust me!"

"As I said, Madame," Dumbledore finally interjected. "I was doubtful of the idea, but we couldn't let it go unheeded if true. If you honestly were in league with the Dark Lord, we couldn't have just come out and asked you such a thing and remained subversive."

Madame Collins turned to face Snape. "But, Severus, you? You of all people to suspect such a thing?" Her speech was only missing a handkerchief for her to wring as she sobbed miserably and perhaps collapsed onto the floor. "You who I've known since you were eleven, who I entrusted my own granddaughter to."

Snape narrowed his eyes at her. They both knew she was spreading it on very thick. She had said to his face that she didn't hold loyalty to anyone and that the reason she chose him to tutor her granddaughter was because of his dark knowledge.

"I was even willing to give you what information I had on Lucius Malfoy and any other Death Eater who I might come across. How could that be construed as dark support?"

"I do apologize for the misinformation," Snape said smoothly, though he continued to shoot daggers in her direction.

Madame Collins nodded and seemed to take a moment to calm herself. "I thought we had a much better understanding then that, Severus. Why, after I even gave you Tom Riddle's book," she said softly, her eyes darting to Dumbledore.

Snape could have struck her dead. Instead his hands remained clenched behind his back.

"You did tell Albus about the book, didn't you?" she asked with shock.

Now both the Headmaster and Madame Collins eyed him with interest.

"Sir, a few years ago, Madame Collins gave me a book she claimed belonged to Tom Riddle. One which she had confiscated from none other than James Potter, but had decided to keep for herself. Perhaps she had grown nervous about its possession, and she asked that I keep it safe and I have done so."

Madame Collins managed her own glare at him for attempting to drag her down with him in the story.

"My not mentioning it was an oversight on my part," Snape continued. "And also an attempt to protect Madame's misjudgment. In all honesty, Headmaster, it had slipped my mind since I have had it hidden away for nearly five years now." Snape remained calm and humble in his speech.

"Perhaps I should see this book, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly.

Snape nodded and left the room, but not before he gave Madame Collins a look that promised a worse revenge than she could ever conceive in that twisted mind of hers.

When Snape returned with the book, Madame Collins had gone, much to his relief.

"Where did she go?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"She said she wanted a bit of time with Davindra since she hasn't seen her much lately," Dumbledore replied.

He held his hand out for the book, which Snape relinquished.

"Severus, why didn't you tell me about this?" There was honest disappointment in the old wizard's voice.

"I would have eventually, sir," Suddenly he did feel sheepish about keeping it from the Headmaster's knowledge. "But I have no excuse for my delay."

"Anything that can give us any insight into Lord Voldemort's mind is extremely valuable," Dumbledore reminded as he leafed through the book. "Have you done any of these potions?"

Snape froze. "I tried a calming draught that is actually a hallucinogenic nightmare potion and the Coacto Fides a few years ago."

"Did they work?"

"I can unequivocally say the nightmare draught works quite well. I didn't have a chance to do a proper test of the other." He purposefully didn't mention the test subject of the belief potion or the Vision Well and hoped Dumbledore suspected nothing more.

"Horcruxes," the Headmaster muttered in amazement. "Oh, great Merlin."

"Sir?" Snape noticed the old wizard looked a little more pale than normal.

"Of course, this is how he did it. I've always known." He then said loudly, "Severus, do you realize what this is?" he then asked firmly, waving the book at Snape.

Snape continued to stare at the Headmaster, afraid of what the answer was.

"This is basically Voldemort's playbook! Everything he compiled while at school which he planned to use after his rise to power." There was a sudden excitement and electricity in the Headmaster.

"Had I realized..." Snape began, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"It doesn't matter now, Severus. We have much to do. I'll need this book for now. But am I right in assuming that you've copied every potion and spell in this book for your own records?" There was an accusing yet mischievous twinkle in the old man's eye.

Snape felt himself grow hot and was thankful that he had yet to blush in all his life. He pursed his lips and stared at the omnipotent old wizard. "Of course."

"You are nothing if not predictable in your quest for knowledge, Severus," Dumbledore smiled.

"Sir, I apologize..."

"Don't, there's no time for it now," Dumbledore said, holding up his hand. "But this won't be a mistake you will make again, I'm sure.

"No, sir," Snape seethed in anger hot enough to boil his blood, though he kept it completely contained. "Sir, about Madame Collins," he began.

The Headmaster had gone back to flipping through the book. "Yes, I know. This is as much her fault as yours. She gave you this book and told you to tell no one, which you kept your word on. Then when she felt you might have reason to turn on her, she decided to beat you to the punch and turn you out to me," he commented almost absent-mindedly as his eyes stayed on the pages in front of him. But he raised them when he continued. "A most cowardly action that speaks mountains about her character and sways my belief in her integrity greatly. We'll continue to watch her."

Dumbledore paused and then nodded slightly, which was a signal that he was done with the Potions master. Snape turned to leave, his first thought was to find Madame Collins before she left the school.

"Severus," the Headmaster's voice called out before he had reached the door. "I will have no need to watch you, will I?" There was a dark promise in his voice, which made the question sound like a command.

Snape turned. "I have always assumed you did anyway."

The majestic wizard nodded his head just once with a knowing smile and then returned to his new possession.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Snape never did catch up with Madame Collins, but he found Davindra sitting in the chilly courtyard looking almost shell-shocked. With new, more guarded care of his manner towards her in the open, he slowly walked to her and stopped several steps in front of the bench she occupied.

She looked up at him with wide, worried eyes. "What was she doing here?" There was a hollow panic in her voice.

"Selling me out to Professor Dumbledore," he replied.

Davindra got up with a hiss of breath and did a caged pace of the walk nearest them. "Does she know about us?"

"I was going to ask you that."

"She was acting very strange. She said that Mother and Granny Lilly had plans to go to Croatia or someplace like that for dragon watching this summer and I'd be with her for most of the time. She said she would help me prepare for my N.E.W.T.s. But there is something going on. She was different, cold and brusque." Almost as in reaction to her own words, Davindra shuddered.

"She said nothing to Professor Dumbledore or me about any suspicions, but she knows that she is suspected of alliance with the Dark Lord. She attempted to prove her favor by divulging to the Headmaster one of our private agreements." There was still much bitterness in his voice as he spoke of it.

Davindra turned and looked at him with nervous horror. "Did you get into trouble?"

Snape rolled his eyes. It wasn't as though he were a student dragged in for cheating on a test. "The Headmaster might not have been happy, but he also saw through your grandmother's scheme. We are still very aware of her dualities."

She stepped closer to him to whisper, "Severus, I'm frightened. I don't want to have to spend a whole summer alone with her."

The fact actually frightened him too. He resisted the urge to hold her or even touch her.

"We'll try to figure out something before the time comes," he said, knowing it wasn't nearly comfort enough. "Right now I have my own crisis to tend to."

Before he left, he took one more glimpse at her, standing helpless and unsure, looking for him to protect and guide her through a mess he wasn't sure he himself would ever come out of.

"For the time being, we should lay low," he said very quietly. "I'll tell you when I think the circumstances have changed."

He didn't stay around to watch her melt into disappointment and confusion. But he knew it existed in her even from across the distance he quickly walked to separate them.