Tangling the Web

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to Rowling. I only own the original characters and the situations they get themselves into.

WARNING: Sexual situation

Chapter 4: Tangling the Web

It was indecently early when the wards of the dilapidated row house on Spinner's End were disturbed. Severus was instantly awake, drawing his wand out of his pocket. In the process of getting up and moving towards the door, he tripped over the thick book that had slipped from his hand when he had fallen asleep in the chair. Other than Dumbledore, not many people knew where he lived during the summer, and it wasn't as if he normally had any Muggle callers to cope with.

Looking through the dingy window, he saw a figure dressed in an emerald green cloak. What the blazes was she doing here?

He opened the door and asked, "Isn't it a bit early for callers, Mrs. McKeene?"

"I am sorry to disturb you, Severus, but I needed to see you," replied his guest in a rich, feminine voice. "Are you going to invite me in?"

Wordlessly he stood aside so the woman could enter. As she entered the room, Bianca McKeene lowered her hood, revealing long, silvery-blond hair. Her piercing gray eyes swept over the shabby room before fixing on him. In their younger years, she had been a glorious sight, beautiful and powerful. She had been more than ten years his senior, and Severus, young and vulnerable at the time, had been drawn to her. Bianca, her husband oblivious to the mutual attraction, had taken Severus into her tutelage, and he had soon discovered that the Dark Arts were not her only area of expertise.

"You've been avoiding me, Severus," she said without preamble. "I saw you after your meeting with the Dark Lord and tried to get your attention. Could you not be bothered to speak with me?"

"I had no time to pause. Much the same as you have had no time to speak with me for the past several years," Severus said pointedly, recalling how, after the Dark Lord had disappeared, Bianca had ignored him completely, never contacting him, never acknowledging him during their few brief-yet-awkward social encounters.

Bianca lifted her chin. "Well, I have time to speak with you now. You must understand, Severus, in the aftermath of the Master's disappearance, I had a reputation to protect if I was ever going to covertly continue his noble work. You and I were not in the same social circles; it would have looked suspicious for us to be seen together. Besides, you had Dumbledore to plead your case; the only way you could have done better would have been if the Minister herself had vouched for you. The endorsement of two 'Imperiused' followers would have done you more harm than good."

"I see," he said, giving her a stony look. Not caring to be pursue the past, he changed the subject. "So, have you been making yourself indispensable with your Ministry connections?"

"Of course," replied Bianca. "I'm even more indispensable than ever since poor Lucius has been incarcerated, thanks to that raving lunatic Bellatrix, besotted whore that she is."

A brief mental picture of Bellatrix Lestrange intimately servicing the Dark Lord flitted through his mind. It was far from a pleasant image; on the contrary, it was utterly disturbing. He raised an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

"Not really," said Bianca staunchly. "While it is irksome to see favor bestowed on someone so unstable and undeserving, I have better ways of showing loyalty than fawning and constantly dithering about time wasted in prison. My husband and I could better serve the cause by remaining free, and that was exactly what we did. Have you heard her latest rant about what a traitor you are?"

"More times than I care to think of," he answered grimly, rubbing his hands over his face. "I take it you hold no stock in her opinions of me?"

"Of course not!" She moved closer to him, reaching out to lightly stroke his chest with a delicate hand. "Yours is a dangerous game, Severus, and you play it so well." Pressing against him, her hands became more insistent as she cooed, "Forgive me for leaving you to your own devices after the Dark Lord's disappearance. It really was for the best. Besides, with my husband now dead and gone, I'm free to pursue whomever I choose without scandal."

Severus leaned his head back slightly and reveled in her experienced touch, lengthening and hardening as she caressed him through his clothing. He hadn't been with a woman, witch, Squib, or Muggle, since the Dark Lord's return, and the promise of intimate contact was cause for indulgence. With each firm stroke, the constant vigilance he had been living with began yielding to desire. Constant vigilance had kept him alive but unsatisfied. Constant vigilance-- A mental image of Moody uttering the mantra was like a dousing of frigid water. Severus's sense of pleasure came to an abrupt halt. He grabbed Bianca's wrists to restrain her wandering hands.

"As much as I find it flattering that you would travel all this way for a tryst," Severus said with an air of forced levity, "I have the impression that isn't the main reason for your visit."

"Why wouldn't it be?" the witch asked, pulling out of his grasp and pouting. "Have you replaced me, Severus?"

He ignored her questions and demanded. "Why are you really here, Bianca?"

"To warn you, of course. Bellatrix is determined to undermine you and will stop at nothing to discredit you. She doesn't seem to fathom how important your role as Dumbledore's confidante is to our cause as a whole. She especially resents how you, a mere half-blood, have usurped her family's place in the Dark Lord's favor. You need someone to watch out for you. I can help if you confide in me, Severus," she answered, breathless from her rambling explanation. "I was hoping you would share the particulars of your assignment with me. I'm very aware of your prior dealings with Hawkins, and I was wondering if--"

"My conversation with the Dark Lord was confidential," he interrupted, realizing that she was likely here at Bellatrix's behest or perhaps even the Dark Lord's. In either case, he was not about to share sensitive information. "As far as me usurping Bellatrix and her family's position, it's been my understanding that her rash behavior coupled with Lucius's inability to keep her in check--a difficult task indeed--was what caused cause the entire plan to fall apart. That failure, in turn, caused them to fall from favor. I had nothing to do with it, and you may feel free to carry my words back to Bellatrix." He drew himself up angrily and ushered his guest to the door. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to make a trip to Diagon Alley today."

"But, Severus--"

"Bianca," he said firmly, opening the door. "I appreciate your offers--all of them--and the words of warning, but I know where my loyalties belong. Bellatrix and her insecurities are of minor importance."

The blond witch stalked towards the exit. Before she stepped over the threshold, Bianca said over her shoulder, "I hope you realize, Severus, that my offers expire very quickly. I would hate for you to not take advantage of them."

Keep your options open. The time may come when you need her. Severus stopped her and, tipping her face up to his, captured her lips in a mouth-bruising kiss. Bianca's breath caught as he parted her lips and slid his tongue seductively over the roof of her mouth. When they parted, he whispered in her ear, "I would never take advantage of a lady."

"Always the gentleman," Bianca said, her tone playfully mocking.

She glided from the room and Disapparated from the doorstep. The witch was gone, but the heavy, uncomfortable sensation in his groin remained. Perhaps he should have taken her up on one of those offers.

Would it have been worth possibly finding yourself at wand point? he asked himself as he quickly closed and warded the door. He scratched the back of his head. Years ago, her attraction to him had made some semblence of sense; they both had been drawn together out of physical frustration and a mutual need of for satisfaction. The possibility that she was genuinely concerned for his safety and well-being was dubious at best. Still, it was wiser to play along with her game than to openly reject her and make a true enemy of the woman.

His stomach gave a loud growl, and Severus was reminded that there probably wasn't much more than a dust-covered tin of peaches left in the house. No matter, he could stop at the Leaky Cauldron for breakfast before placing his order for the school potion stores. He also needed to stop at Ollivander's to have the finish on his wand inspected. The varnish was beginning to crack near the handle, and one thing he could not afford to have happen was his wand malfunctioning at a critical moment. Yawning and stretching, Severus climbed the concealed staircase to the second floor to wash up and change into a clean robe before setting off to London.

It wasn't until Callista entered Diagon Alley with her mother that she realized she had never known peace and security in the British wizarding world. Many of the shops were boarded up, posters showing the likeness of escaped Death Eaters peered at passersby, and there was an unmistakable sense of tension that could be felt from all but the youngest children.

"Callista, are you even listening to me?" her mother asked.

The younger witch looked at the elegant woman beside her, feeling slightly guilty. "Sorry, Mum, I was just thinking how little this has changed."

"I will have you know that up until June the Alley was busy and thriving. Peace is merely a dream it seems." Her mother sighed. "I suggest we go to Twillfit and Tattings; Madame Malkin's will be crowded with students."

In Twillfit and Tattings, Callista endured a long and intrusive session with the measuring tape. She balked at the more intimate measurements, declaring that her current undergarments would suffice, and refused to be swayed by her mother's insistence. However, when she was finally finished, she was well outfitted for her return to the British wizarding world. All the while, her mother chatted with the head seamstress about upcoming weddings and recent births. Callista only vaguely remembered some of the names and quickly lost interest in the conversation. When her mother decided to purchase a few items for herself, Callista conveniently realized she needed to have her wand repaired and fled the shop after promising to meet her mother at Gringotts within the hour.

Knowing it would take Ollivander only a moment to fix the tiny fissure, Callista toyed with the idea of visiting other shops. The apothecary was across the street, but Dumbledore assured her that Severus would take care of ordering supplies for the Potions classroom, so she didn't need to stop there really, and with her lousy luck, Severus would probably be there.

Perhaps an owl would be a good idea, she thought as she paused briefly at Eylope's Owl Emporium to admire the beautiful birds, a few of which untucked their heads to glare at her for daring to interrupt their slumber. No, she wasn't planning on staying for any longer than one school year, and for that brief amount of time, the school owls would do. Reaching up, she stroked the soft feathers before moving on.

About half-way along the cobbled street was a garish store front, ablaze in purple and gold: Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Callista couldn't help but smile when she saw it, remembering the vivid description of the young entrepreneurs Dumbledore had given her. If there was time at the end of the day, she would do her best to talk her mother into stopping. While she had no intentions of purchasing anything, she knew the shop would be intriguing to say the least.

Continuing along the busy street, Callista glanced at the various shops, some of which hadn't changed in the slightest since the last time she had last walked along the street, and remembered how much she had enjoyed coming to Diagon Alley as a child. There was a familiarity about the place that none of the magical communities in the States would ever have.

At last, Ollivander's came into sight. She pulled the door open and stepped into the shop. Unfortunately, the person she had been hoping to avoid was standing at counter.

"A few firm strokes every night, and your wand will remain in top condition, Professor Snape," Ollivander declared as Severus paid for his purchase.

The double entendre caused Callista to force the laughter that was rising in her throat into a cough. Severus glared at her and swept from the shop without so much as a word. There was a fleeting feeling of disappointment. Had she been expecting him to say something? Shaking her head, she decided it was for the best that he hadn't said anything to her.

"Welcome home, my dear Miss-- I mean, Professor Hawkins," said a beaming Ollivander as he shook her hand with both of his. "Headmaster Dumbledore informed me that you would likely pay me a visit before the start of term."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander," she replied, holding out her old wand to the elderly gentleman. "Indeed, I was hoping you could repair my wand for me. I'll also need the appropriate polish and a new cleaning cloth."

Ollivander took the wand and looked it over. "Ah, yes, ash, ten and a quarter inches with a dragon heartstring core. How ever did it acquire that crack on the shaft?"

Callista briefly explained the accident, which in retrospect was actually rather amusing. Since wand ownership was traceable, replacing it instead of having it repaired had been just another way to protect her identity. There was also the law that American witches and wizards were required to own American made wands. In the end, she had decided to keep the battered wand for purely sentimental reasons. At the end of her story, she braced herself for the possibility of a lecture on proper wand care.

"At least you did not attempt to use it in this condition," he said, fixing her with his pale eyes.

"No, I've been using this one," Callista told him as she handed over her current wand, which Ollivander studied intently. "It's an Osborne and Leeds creation: ten and a half inches, apple wood, with imported phoenix feather core, in service for twelve years, seven months. All of their products are treated with a special Disillusionment charm-- very helpful when you mix with the non-magical population. It works quiet well for Transfiguration."

"Hmph!" he said dismissively, but Callista could tell he was grudgingly impressed with the quality of the foreign wand.

"Now that I'm back, I want to have a proper, British wand and use the apple wood wand for a spare."

"You do realize that a wizard or witch, unless they have obtained a special permit, is limited to one registered wand at a time, don't you?"

Callista lifted her chin. "I'm also aware that a number of people don't follow that particular law."

Ollivander frowned at her, saying, "Are you suggesting that I sell unregistered wands?"

"Not at all, sir, but I am saying that not all of wands that are listed as destroyed have actually met the fates their owner's claimed. My father was an Auror, and I remember hearing stories about criminals having a spare wand or two on their person at the time of capture." She smiled reassuringly. "Dumbledore suggested that I carry a spare wand at all times, and I planned on using the apple wood wand as my spare. if the old one can't be repaired, I will purchase a replacement from you."

His frown relaxed a little at her words. "Very well, Miss Hawkins. Osborne and Leeds wands are decent enough, but...."

"I understand." Callista was no expert on wands, but even she knew the apple wood wand without the spells applied to it was equal in quality to anything that Ollivander carried. The enchantments made it superior, and a wand that was unnoticeable to Muggles would be in great demand by the Aurors of Magical Law Enforcement. Why it had never occurred to the wand maker to attempt to do what Osborne and Leeds managed in the early 1700's was beyond her. Perhaps necessity really was the mother of all invention.

It took a few moments for Ollivander to mend the ash wand. Callista thanked him and left the shop. As she stepped out into the street, a flash of light caught her eye, and she drew her wand. Looking about, she was unable to find the source of the flash. Since none of the other people on the street took any notice, she felt confident that it was probably not a spell. Pocketing her wand, Callista hurried off to Gringotts.

A/N: Osborne and Leeds would be one of three major wand makers in the United States and located on the east coast. The names come from Sarah Osborne (one of the accused witches in the 1692 Salem Witch Trials) and Jane Leeds (the 'mother' of the Jersey Devil) of Leeds' Point, New Jersey. About forty years separate the two, but I wanted some historical significance behind the names.