Innocence Found (Snape/OFC)

This is a Severus Snape/OFC story set in Harry's 6th year. It contains drama, romance, and a little mystery. Even if you aren't a rabid Snape fangirl like me, give it a shot. You just may see ol' Snivelly in a new light. ;)

* * *

Severus Snape awoke with a start. He was drenched in sweat; his heart pounded wildly in his chest. He had been dreaming about a man with red eyes with slits for pupils. His high, cold voice echoed in Severus' head.

He sat up quickly, his breath ragged. His eyes darted around, searching the unfamiliar surroundings. He lay in a queen size bed in the midst of a modest bedroom. Black robes lay across a plush armchair; various bottles were strewn across an old dresser; a flowery dressing gown lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. He rose and began examining the bottles on the dresser. He caught a familiar scent of lilac from a bottle he assumed to be perfume.

Severus sat on the edge of the bed. Where am I? he thought. He tried desperately to remember something, anything, but his mind was blank. He remembered nothing, not even who he was. He gulped for air and tried to slow his racing heart. This is preposterous, he thought. I have to remember something! But nothing appeared in his mind's eye except a pair of chilling red eyes.

A chair scraped across the floor in another room. Severus jumped up. Is someone else here? He hastily threw on the black robes and pressed his ear to the door. His heart skipped a beat as he heard a cup clank on the table. He stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity, listening and wondering who or what occupied the next room.

Finally, he swallowed the lump in his throat and cautiously opened the door of the bedroom. He crept down a narrow hallway, following the sound of a rustling newspaper. He only hoped he would not see those red eyes as he turned the corner.

He walked into a small kitchen. The sink was piled full of dishes; the countertops were littered with bread crumbs and candy wrappers; a tiny kitchen table stood in the middle of the room upon a worn wooden floor. A woman with long, dark hair was sitting at the table with her back to him, drinking a cup of tea and reading a newspaper. Severus gazed over her shoulder and gasped. The people in the photograph on the front page were moving!

The woman turned around and glared at him. She was very pretty, with dark eyes and olive skin. Her lips were full and rosy and must have had the capacity for a truly charming smile but were presently turned down in an impatient frown.

"You know I hate when you read over my shoulder!" she snapped.

Severus gaped at her. Who was this woman? He unconsciously looked down at her long, slender fingers. On her left hand was a gold ring containing a small pear-shaped diamond. Instinctively, he looked at his own left hand. He wore a simple gold band on his left ring finger. What the...? As Severus struggled to make sense out of this recent development, he suddenly realized the woman was staring at him.

"What is wrong with you?" she demanded. Her dark eyes narrowed, searching his.

Severus averted his gaze. "Er..." he stammered.

She turned back to her newspaper. "Well, it's almost noon. I assumed you were going to sleep all day so you can find your own lunch. I've eaten."

Severus walked over to the table and sat down in the chair in front of her. He took the newspaper from her hands and lowered it from her face. She glared at him impatiently.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" he asked.

She snatched the newspaper from him. "You are not funny. And I am still waiting for an apology for last night."

He stared at her in confusion, desperately wishing he had the faintest idea as to what she was on about.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What’s going on?” she asked slowly. He clutched the roots of his hair and stared at the table. Why can't I remember?

He jumped up from the table, feeling a sudden, urgent need for fresh air. "I have to go,” he said, rushing from the room.

"Where are you going?" she shouted after him, but he was already gone.

He found himself not outside, but in what appeared to be a dungeon. It was dark and dank and dimly lit with dozens of candles whose light cast eerie shadows on the walls. Severus shivered and pulled his black robes tightly around him. His mind was racing and he was finding it extremely difficult to breathe.

He collapsed against the dungeon wall and pressed his palms against his eyes. What was happening? Why couldn’t he remember anything? And who was that woman in the kitchen? He racked his brain but could come up with nothing: his mind was completely blank.

He felt panic begin to set in and decided he needed to walk, to find a way out of the shadowy, damp dungeon. As he began to make his way down the narrow corridor he felt a sense of purpose envelop him. Somehow, searching for the exit comforted him by giving him something to do other than worrying about his present situation. He walked on, determinedly following the corridor of the dungeon for what seemed like miles before reaching a door.

He pulled open the door and found himself in an enormous entrance hall. The ceiling reached higher than Severus could see and above him stood four massive hourglasses, each filled with its own gemstone. To his left was a broad marble staircase that led to what Severus assumed was the second level. He peered up the stairs and noticed dozens of other staircases leading to additional levels. He wondered how many floors this building contained and what he was doing in such a place.

Severus turned around and spotted a set of gigantic oak doors directly in front of him. He was rushing toward the doors, anticipating freedom when a voice to his left stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Professor Snape!"

Severus froze. Is he talking to me? A tiny man with a squeaky voice gestured to him from an immense room that resembled a cathedral.

Severus entered cautiously, surveying his surroundings. He gazed up at the ceiling, which was not a ceiling at all, but a bright blue sky scattered with puffy white clouds. Directly above him hundreds of candles were suspended in mid air. Sunlight poured through floor-length windows that lined the sides of the room.

The immense chamber currently contained only one long table that seated two women in long flowing robes and an old man with a long silver beard and twinkling blue eyes. Severus stared at the old man. Those eyes seemed to know more than they should.

"Come on in and join us," said man with the squeaky voice. "We've only just begun our lunch."

The tiny man led Severus to the table and motioned for him to sit down. Severus stood rooted in his spot in front of the table. He stared at the strangers seated there, wondering how he was supposed to know them.

"Please sit," said the old man. His blue eyes danced as he smiled warmly at Severus. He studied Severus for a moment, and then suddenly the old man's eyes narrowed. He knows, Severus thought.

"Minerva, Filius, Poppy, will you please excuse us?" the old man said. "Professor Snape and I need to take a walk."

The old man rose and gestured toward the door. Severus followed dumbly. The old man led him outside through the oak doors that Severus had spotted earlier. As they walked through the castle grounds, the summer sun beat down on Severus’ face and a slight breeze ruffled his robes. Beams of light danced across the waters as Severus stared out across a large black lake. He breathed deeply and attempted to calm himself.

"Tell me what has happened," the old man said simply.

Severus fixed his gaze on a flock of birds circling the lake. Something about this man told him that he was trustworthy, yet what was he to say? All he knew was that he remembered nothing and he was apparently married.

"I don't know," Severus began. "I woke up today and found a woman in my kitchen. I think she is my wife but I don't remember her. I don't know who I am or who you are. I don't even know where I am. Do I live here? And why am I seeing things?"

The old man raised his eyebrows. "Seeing things?"

Severus looked away, scowling. "I saw people moving in a photograph in the newspaper."

The old man chuckled. "Oh," he said calmly.

Severus glared at him. "I want to know what is going on!" he shouted.

The old man smiled. "That I do not know," he said, "but I can tell you who you are and who that woman is if you would like."

Severus nodded, grateful to be getting some answers.

"Come; sit down,” the old man said, gesturing to a small white bench. Severus sat down and stared down at his hands.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore," he said. "I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"School of what?" Severus choked.

Dumbledore smiled. "Perhaps I should start at the beginning. You are Severus Snape. You are a wizard. An extremely talented wizard, in fact. You have been working for me for about 15 years. At Hogwarts we train young witches and wizards and you are one of our professors."

"What do I teach?" asked Severus, fearing the answer.

"You are our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Severus swallowed with difficulty, but said nothing.

Dumbledore continued, "You are also head of Slytherin House." He stopped suddenly, apparently realizing Severus had no idea what Slytherin House was. He then began to tell Severus about the Hogwarts founders, a talking hat that sorted students into each of the four houses, the points system, the house cup-

"Stop!" Severus shouted. His mind was swimming. He did not care about talking hats or Griffin-somethings and slitherings. He wanted to know about the woman. "How long have I been married?" he demanded.

"Less than a year, actually," said Dumbledore. "Her name is Camilla."

"Camilla," Severus repeated, searching for any remembrance of the name. He shook his head. "I don't remember her."

"You will," said Dumbledore. "In time, I believe you will remember all. But, for now you must go to your wife."

Severus swallowed. "I don't think I can do that. I don't even know her."

"Yet she knows you. No one knows you better than she and no one else can bring you back."

* * *

Severus paused outside the door to his rooms. He inhaled and slowly pushed open the door.



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Camilla was waiting in the entryway. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her foot tapping impatiently. Her eyes flashed as Severus entered.

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

“I went for a walk,” Severus replied, brushing past her. He entered the small sitting room and threw himself in a worn armchair. He rubbed his eyes wearily.

She followed him into the sitting room and stood over him, scowling. “You didn’t tell me where you were going. You just ran out of here with no explanation! Would you care to tell me what is going on or am I once again going to be left in the dark?”

“I don’t need this right now,” Severus said irritably. If this is how married life is, then I’m glad I don’t remember.

Camilla stared at him open-mouthed. “Oh, I’m so sorry to inconvenience you! I forgot that my feelings don’t matter and that the great Severus Snape is not to be bothered with my silly wants and needs! Well, don’t worry, darling,” she spat, angry tears filling her brown eyes, “I’ve come to understand that I’m not nearly as important as your other pursuits.”

She spun on her heel and stormed into the bedroom. Severus winced as she slammed the door.

Insufferable, he thought bitterly. Now what?

He stood up and paced the length of the tiny room. He gazed absently at the endless rows of books lining the walls. A flash of silver on the mantel caught his eye. He walked over and picked up a small picture frame. Inside the frame was a photograph of Camilla, beaming up at Severus, who was dressed in formal looking robes. Camilla held a bouquet of flowers; Severus’ arm encircled her waist. Our Wedding Day was engraved at the bottom of the frame.

Severus sighed as he returned the frame to the mantel. He turned and looked toward the bedroom door. Oh, why not? he shrugged.

He crossed to the bedroom door and gingerly turned the knob. He braced himself for the sight of a sobbing, angry woman. Instead, he found a stone-faced Camilla shoving clothes into a trunk.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked incredulously.

“Don’t act surprised, or pretend to be concerned,” Camilla answered coldly. “You should be relieved. Now the - how did you word it? - oh yes, screaming banshee will be out of your way.”

She snapped the trunk shut and shot Severus a contemptuous look. “Goodbye,” she said, lugging the trunk across the room toward the door.

Severus caught her by the arm as she tried to move past him. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Let me go,” she said frostily.

“You can’t leave.”

She looked up at him, her eyes narrow and cold. “Tell me why I should stay with someone like you.”

“Because,” he admitted with a sigh, “I need your help.”

Camilla paused and stared down at his hand still clutching her arm. He released it, looking away awkwardly.

“With what?” she asked impatiently, letting go of the trunk so that it hit the ground with a loud thud.

“Sit down,” he said, gesturing toward the bed.

She eyed him for a moment then sat down and crossed her arms across her chest. “Well?” she said, her lips pursed.

Severus sat down on the edge of the bed beside her and inhaled slowly. “I can’t remember.”

“Remember what?” she snapped.

“Anything!” Severus exclaimed in frustration. He began pacing the room, his black robes billowing behind him. “I can’t remember who I am, who you are, what I did yesterday, nothing.”

Camilla stared at him skeptically. “What do you mean you remember nothing? Nothing at all?” Severus shook his head. “How is that possible?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Well…” she said uncertainly, “when did this happen?”

“How do I know?” he replied impatiently. “I woke up this morning with no memory of who I am. I don’t know how it happened.”

Camilla stood up. She began wringing her hands nervously, repeating, “No…no…” as if the words alone could reverse this misfortune.

“This can’t be!” she said emphatically. “No, no…I’m sure it’s just temporary. We’ll take you to see Poppy. She will sort this out. You’ll be fine.”

“Poppy?” he asked, wondering where he had heard that name before.

“Madam Pomfrey. She is the healer at Hogwarts. She’ll know what to do.” Camilla stood up and took his hand. “Let’s get you to the hospital wing.”

“Wait,” he said, rising and reluctantly letting go of her hand. “Dumbledore seems to think that you can help me.”

She looked up at him nervously. “What can I do? No, Poppy can-“

“Look,” said Severus, “we are married. You probably know more about me than anyone. I need to know everything.”

“All right…tell me what you remember.”

“I told you. I remember nothing.”

Camilla frowned.

“Wait…” said Severus. “This morning I was having a dream. I don’t remember much except there was a man with red eyes. He was laughing…” His skin prickled at the memory of the strange dream.

Camilla said nothing. Her eyes clouded over as she looked away.

“Camilla, I need you to tell me everything. Don’t worry about protecting me. I have to know the truth, whatever it is.”

Camilla looked up at him sadly. “I’ll tell you. You deserve to know. You deserve so much more…” She trailed off and wiped away a tear. She looked up into his black eyes and smiled weakly. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“I’m sure,” he said firmly.

Camilla sat back down on the bed and exhaled slowly. Severus took a seat beside her and gazed at her expectantly.

Camilla began to tell Severus of his upbringing. He discovered that his mother was a witch but his father was a Muggle. His father had been angry man who spent little time with Severus and argued often with his mother. His mother had loved Severus dearly and wanted more for her son than an oppressive, angry home. She was relieved when the time came for Severus to begin his magical training. She knew he would soon discover his talents and grow to believe in himself as she had. However, Hogwarts was not the safe sanctuary she had dreamed of for her son.

Severus excelled in all of his classes. He worked hard and made outstanding marks. His professors were impressed by his abilities in Potions but concerned by his interest in the Dark Arts. His letters to his mother revealed nothing of the silent pain he lived with day after day. Contrary to what he told his mother, Severus was not popular. In fact, he had no friends and was teased mercilessly. He was jinxed and hexed daily by a variety of perpetrators, although none were as persistent as James Potter and his friends.

Soon, Severus learned to fight back. The students discovered his fascination with the Dark Arts and most were far too frightened to attempt to torture him as Potter did. The animosity between Potter and Severus, however, continued until the day of his death.

“How did he die?” asked Severus, digesting this unpleasant information.

“Er…“ Camilla stammered. “He was murdered.”

Severus exhaled slowly. “By whom?”

Camilla hesitated. “A very evil man,” she replied slowly.

Severus’ mind raced. “How did I feel about his death? Was I…happy?”

“No, of course not. You hated James, but you never wished for him to be murdered.”

Severus leaned back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling. What kind of man was I? he wondered. How could this woman have fallen in love with someone like me? “Why did you marry me?” he asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why would you marry someone like me? Obviously I was hated for a reason.”

“I married you because I fell in love with you. I know you are not perfect. You have maddening flaws,” she said with a smirk. “But I know who you really are; I know the Severus that no one else sees.”

“And who is he?”

She smiled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

He shot her an exasperated look.

“It’s late,” she said, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. “We can talk more tomorrow.”

Severus nodded in agreement. He needed time to process all she had told him.

“Why don’t you go take a long, hot shower and get some sleep?” she suggested.

“Er, where…?” He wondered what sort of sleeping arrangements she expected. He did not think himself prepared to share a bed with her yet.

“You can have the bed,” she said sadly. “I will sleep in the spare bedroom.”

He looked at her remorsefully. “Sorry,” he muttered.

She blinked away a tear. “Don’t be silly. It’s not your fault. Anyway, everything will be fine. I know it,” she assured him.

Severus sighed and entered the bathroom to take his shower. He finally began to relax as the steaming water poured over him. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his left arm. He clutched his forearm and stared down at a strange tattoo of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. It seemed to be growing darker. Puzzled, he grabbed a towel and went to find Camilla.

He knocked on her door tentatively. She flung the door open, looking flustered. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I-well, when I was in the shower I felt this sharp pain in my arm and when I looked down I saw this.” He extended his arm to show her the mark.

Her eyes widened in fear and her entire body began to shake. Without a word, she crumpled to the ground.


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Chapter Three

Camilla Snape sat on the edge of a high backed chair, her right foot tapping rapidly as she chewed a lock of her long, dark hair. She gingerly touched the throbbing bump on the back of her head and berated herself inwardly for being so weak.

Severus had been white as a sheet when she had awoken. She had insisted she was fine but she knew he did not believe her. He seemed to realize that her tears had nothing to do with the lump on her head and everything to do with his strange tattoo. How could she tell him? She had made an excuse about wanting to take a walk and had left him staring after her.

Camilla jumped as one of the former Hogwarts headmasters began to snore inside his portrait. She cursed him and stuck a new piece of hair in her mouth. Where was Dumbledore? It seemed like an eternity had passed since Professor McGonagall had gone to fetch him.

Suddenly, the door to Dumbledore’s office opened. Dumbledore entered and smiled warmly at Camilla. “Ah, Mrs. Snape,” he said, “Lovely to see you. Minerva said you needed to speak with me?” He sat down behind his desk and leaned forward, placing his fingertips together and gazing at her with concern in his eyes.

“Yes,” she began in a shaky voice. “I don’t know how or why, but Severus has lost his memory. He can’t remember me or anything about himself. And tonight…” she trailed off, choking back a sob, “…tonight the Dark Mark—“

Dumbledore’s eyes widened. “Voldemort has summoned him? Tonight?”

Camilla shuddered at the sound of his name. “I suppose so.” She looked up at Dumbledore in desperation. “What are we going to do? Severus doesn’t even know anything about You Know Who! How is he supposed to meet with him? He’ll be killed!” Camilla said, breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably.

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and inhaled slowly. “This is a dilemma, indeed,” he declared. He tapped his fingertips to his lips, his brow furrowed in concentration. He appeared to be deep in thought for a lifetime before saying, “We do not know if Severus has lost his ability to do magic. His powers may not have left him at all.”

Camilla eyed Dumbledore skeptically through her tears. “What are you saying? Do you actually think he will still have the ability to practice Occlumency?”

“It is possible. If Muggle-born witches and wizards can perform magic at a young age, well before they are aware of their gifts, then it is not beyond the realm of reasoning to think that Severus could as well.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“Bring Severus to me and we shall find out if his powers have remained. If they have, then he will be able to meet Voldemort as planned.”

She stared at him for a moment in disbelief. “Dumbledore, I can’t do that,” said Camilla angrily. She felt her emotions start to get the best of her, but she didn’t care. This is my husband, she thought. All Dumbledore cared about was making sure his spy was still able to do his job. He didn’t seem to care if Severus got himself killed in the process. There was no possible way that Severus would still be able to carry on the façade he had maintained for so long without his memory.

“You can’t expect Severus to carry on spying for you in the state he’s in. He will be killed!” Camilla cried.

Dumbledore’s eyes widened slightly but he seemed otherwise unconcerned by her outburst. He sat there, as serene and calm as ever. “Camilla, I assure you that I have Severus’s best interests in mind.”

Camilla leapt up. It took all the restraint she had to keep herself from hitting the old man. “Dumbledore, I respect you. I do. But you have gone too far this time. Severus may be nothing more to you than a tool to get to You Know Who, but he is my husband and I love him. I’ve sat by and watched you use him for a long time and I never said a word. I told myself it was necessary, that it was for the good of us all. But I will not let you do this. I will protect him because no one else will.”

Camilla stood there, shaking with anger and staring at the old wizard. He suddenly looked tired. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, sighing slightly.

“You are right in a way,” he said with a sad smile. “I never meant to use Severus, but I have put him through much more than he deserved. He never complained, however. He did it all of his own free will. He seemed to think he owed it to me and to Harry for the things he had done. It was his way of assuaging his guilt, I think. Though, I’m not sure he will ever forgive himself.”

Camilla felt her anger start to dissipate slightly. She collapsed back into her chair. “I just don’t want him to get hurt. I can’t lose him,” she said, tears stinging her eyes again.

Dumbledore smiled. “Trust me. Trust Severus. He will be fine.”

“I’ll tell him what you said. It’s his decision, not mine,” Camilla said in an empty voice.

“Then I will hope to see him soon.”


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

Camilla was chewing her hair again when her husband returned home. She had tried to dissuade him from going, but he seemed to think it was best to find out if his powers still remained.

She was not sure what she would have him do. They could try to hide somewhere, but she doubted there was a place where Voldemort could not reach them. As much as she hated the way Dumbledore treated Severus, she knew that if Severus did not go to meet Voldemort tonight it was certain that he would be killed.

She jumped up as he slammed the door shut and stared at him in anticipation. “Well…?”

Severus scowled and brushed past her. He made his way to the kitchen and began searching the cabinets. Finally, he found what he was looking for. He poured himself a large glass of something called Firewhiskey and gulped it down. It burned his throat but achieved its desired effect.

He was suddenly aware of her persistent presence, of her eyes boring into his back. “Well, what?” he hissed.

“What did Dumbledore, er…find out?”

“Well after numerous ‘tests’ he discovered that I still have my powers. Not that I know what that means.” He drained his glass and proceeded to refill it quickly.

Camilla gazed at him, concerned. “What sort of tests?” she asked.

“It was quite pleasant, I assure you,” he said, bitingly, as if this was all Camilla’s doing. “Have you ever had your mind probed repeatedly? Had someone gain complete access to your thoughts?” He grimaced at the memory.

“Yes, I have,” Camilla said quietly.

Severus wondered about this, but said nothing. Dumbledore’s actions had confused and enraged him. The old wizard appeared pleased after entering Severus’ thoughts. He did not know how he had done it, but he had found himself unconsciously manufacturing thoughts and memories that would have surely pleased the old man while carefully tucking away the dream of the man with the red eyes so the twinkling blue eyes would never see it.

Dumbledore then proceeded to tell him that the wizarding world was at war. Severus discovered that he was a spy: simultaneously a member of the Order of the Phoenix and one of Voldemort’s most trusted Death Eaters. Voldemort had summoned him tonight using the Dark Mark and would be most displeased if Severus did not come when called.

Dumbledore had concluded that since Severus could still practice Occlumency and retained all of his former powers, he could still meet with Voldemort without compromising his position as spy for the Order.

Severus, however, did not agree. From what Dumbledore had said, this Voldemort was dangerous and he was not willing to risk death for a life he did not remember.

“Severus?”

He looked up from his glass. “I appear to be equipped to meet with Voldemort tonight-” Camilla turned white at mention of his name. “-however, I am not going.”

“Severus, I know what I said before, but I think that if you don’t go tonight, you will be killed.”

“But he will kill me if I do go, for I cannot remember who the bloody man is!”

“He’s not a man,” Camilla said, her voice shaking. “He’s…he’s evil. He cares about nothing but power. He will not think twice about killing you if you disobey him.”

Severus sighed. Camilla crossed the room and stood in front of him. She gently took the glass from his hand and placed it on the counter. She gazed up at him with tears in her deep brown eyes as a delicate finger traced the lines of his face. “I know you don’t remember, but I love you and I don’t want to lose you.” She smiled faintly. A single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. “But I believe in you. I know if you go tonight that you will come back to me. You always do.”

He saw the pain in her eyes and wanted desperately not to care. He could walk away now, move to somewhere remote and start over. But he could not. Damn her, he thought. “Very well,” he conceded reluctantly. “I will go.”

“You’ll need to Apparate,” Camilla said, wiping her face.

Severus smirked. “Yes, apparently that is one of my many talents I still possess, according to Dumbledore.”

“Well,” she said, smoothing the front of his black robes with a wry smile, “that is fortunate.”

Not knowing what possessed him, he suddenly took her hand and brushed his lips against her fingers. She looked up at him quizzically. “Goodbye, Camilla.”

“I will see you soon,“ she said with resolve.

Severus turned quickly and exited. He made his way outside the castle grounds, took a deep breath and Disapparated.

__________________________________________________ _________________________________

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Chapter Four

Camilla could not sleep. She was used to this; the waiting, the worrying, the wondering whether her husband would make it home alive. She went through it every time he left her. She had accepted it, knowing it had to be this way for now. Tonight, however, was different. Despite what she had told him, she wasn’t sure he would come back to her this time.

She got up from her bed. Our bed, she mused with a bitter smile. She wondered when she would share it with him again, when she would feel his arms holding her as he slept. She grinned despite herself. What would his students think if they knew he liked to cuddle?

Camilla went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Oh, screw it, she thought, and poured herself a glass of Firewhiskey instead. She hated the stuff, but tonight tea would just not do. She stared at the bottle of liquor for awhile. The night she had met him he had drank a whole bottle of it.

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

“Firewhiskey,” a soft voice snarled.

Camilla turned around sharply. She had been helping another customer and was annoyed by this presumptuous stranger. She glared at him and returned to pouring a drink for a kindly old witch.

“Sweetheart, you are so pretty. Why are you working here and not home with your husband?” the witch asked.

Camilla cleared her throat. “Oh, I’m not married.” She thought she saw out of the corner of her eye the rude man shifting in his seat slightly.

“Well,” said the witch, patting Camilla’s hand. “Any wizard would be lucky to have you, dear.”

Camilla blushed slightly. “Thank you, you are very kind.”

The man began rapping his fingers on the bar impatiently. She reluctantly made her way over to him. “May I help you, sir?”

“Firewhiskey,” he repeated with a scowl.

She poured him a shot. He grabbed her hand roughly to stop her. “I’ll take the bottle, thank you.”

She wrenched her hand away angrily and slammed the bottle on the bar. “Be my guest,” she said coldly and walked back to talk to the witch.

She was used to rude customers. They just didn’t seem to take to her as they did to her cousin, Rosmerta. Camilla was thankful she would only be there for a month while her cousin took a much needed holiday.

Two hours later Camilla and the rude man were alone in the Three Broomsticks. She was sweeping noisily and putting the bar stools up. He did not seem to be getting the hint. He continued to sit there, draining his glass and refilling it while staring blankly at the wall before him.

She finished sweeping and stood behind the bar, staring at him with her arms folded across her chest. He seemed oblivious to her presence as he stared at his glass, tipping it so the liquid swished about in slow circles.

Camilla couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity as she studied this man. He wore a permanent scowl that was clearly meant to keep others away, but his black eyes conveyed a sadness that he could not conceal.

“We’re closing,” she announced finally.

He said nothing, but slapped a pile of Galleons on the bar and walked out. She went to count it. He had left her quite a tip. Well, he may be a prat, but at least he’s a good tipper, she thought.
***********************************

Camilla took another drink of the foul liquor and glanced at the clock. It was a little past two o’clock in the morning. She knew he would probably not be back until dawn. She got up and rummaged through the cabinets. She picked up a small vial and removed the cork. He had made the sleeping potion for her, for the nights when he left her. She had never used it before, but tonight she needed to sleep, to forget. She drank the potion quickly and returned to bed. She slept a dreamless sleep and did not awake when he returned.

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Feedback would be nice...*bats eyelashes*

Chapter Four

Camilla could not sleep. She was used to this; the waiting, the worrying, the wondering whether her husband would make it home alive. She went through it every time he left her. She had accepted it, knowing it had to be this way for now. Tonight, however, was different. Despite what she had told him, she wasn’t sure he would come back to her this time.

She got up from her bed. Our bed, she mused with a bitter smile. She wondered when she would share it with him again, when she would feel his arms holding her as he slept. She grinned despite herself. What would his students think if they knew he liked to cuddle?

Camilla went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Oh, screw it, she thought, and poured herself a glass of Firewhiskey instead. She hated the stuff, but tonight tea would just not do. She stared at the bottle of liquor for awhile. The night she had met him he had drank a whole bottle of it.

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“Firewhiskey,” a soft voice snarled.

Camilla turned around sharply. She had been helping another customer and was annoyed by this presumptuous stranger. She glared at him and returned to pouring a drink for a kindly old witch.

“Sweetheart, you are so pretty. Why are you working here and not home with your husband?” the witch asked.

Camilla cleared her throat. “Oh, I’m not married.” She thought she saw out of the corner of her eye the rude man shifting in his seat slightly.

“Well,” said the witch, patting Camilla’s hand. “Any wizard would be lucky to have you, dear.”

Camilla blushed slightly. “Thank you, you are very kind.”

The man began rapping his fingers on the bar impatiently. She reluctantly made her way over to him. “May I help you, sir?”

“Firewhiskey,” he repeated with a scowl.

She poured him a shot. He grabbed her hand roughly to stop her. “I’ll take the bottle, thank you.”

She wrenched her hand away angrily and slammed the bottle on the bar. “Be my guest,” she said coldly and walked back to talk to the witch.

She was used to rude customers. They just didn’t seem to take to her as they did to her cousin, Rosmerta. Camilla was thankful she would only be there for a month while her cousin took a much needed holiday.

Two hours later Camilla and the rude man were alone in the Three Broomsticks. She was sweeping noisily and putting the bar stools up. He did not seem to be getting the hint. He continued to sit there, draining his glass and refilling it while staring blankly at the wall before him.

She finished sweeping and stood behind the bar, staring at him with her arms folded across her chest. He seemed oblivious to her presence as he stared at his glass, tipping it so the liquid swished about in slow circles.

Camilla couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity as she studied this man. He wore a permanent scowl that was clearly meant to keep others away, but his black eyes conveyed a sadness that he could not conceal.

“We’re closing,” she announced finally.

He said nothing, but slapped a pile of Galleons on the bar and walked out. She went to count it. He had left her quite a tip. Well, he may be a prat, but at least he’s a good tipper, she thought.
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Camilla took another drink of the foul liquor and glanced at the clock. It was a little past two o’clock in the morning. She knew he would probably not be back until dawn. She got up and rummaged through the cabinets. She picked up a small vial and removed the cork. He had made the sleeping potion for her, for the nights when he left her. She had never used it before, but tonight she needed to sleep, to forget. She drank the potion quickly and returned to bed. She slept a dreamless sleep and did not awake when he returned.

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Feedback (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=89762) would be nice...*bats eyelashes*

Severus entered his rooms early the next morning. Wearily, he pushed open the door to the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to fall into bed and never awake. He stopped abruptly at the sight of her lying in bed. I suppose she forgot she was supposed to sleep in the guest room.

Although he was eager for sleep, he didn’t leave. He stood there for several moments staring at her. She was lying curled up on her side, apparently in a deep sleep, for she did not stir when he opened the door.

He approached the bed slowly, holding his breath and hoping she wouldn’t wake up. He sat down gingerly and watched her for awhile. Looking down at his trembling hands, he wondered how he had made it back alive. Those red eyes were real and they belonged to him, the Dark Lord.

Severus was thankful that Voldemort only wanted a regular report from him. Severus fed him the information that Dumbledore had instructed him to give and he seemed pleased. Amazingly, the Dark Lord did not seem to sense that anything was different with Severus. He seemed to have other things on his mind.

Their meeting had been very short. After they spoke, Voldemort spent an enjoyable hour tormenting a young blonde boy. The boy looked terrified as Voldemort described in great detail what he would do to his family if he failed in the task he was given. The boy assured him in a shaky voice that he would follow through with the plan. Severus quite thought that Voldemort would be happier if the boy failed.

He looked at his wife slumbering and wondered again why she would marry someone like him. What kind of person had he been to ever swear allegiance to such an evil man? What had possessed him to become one of them, to kill for pleasure and feel no remorse?

He sucked in his breath as Camilla started to stir. Afraid to move, he watched her for a moment. She rubbed her eyes and turned over onto her back but did not awaken. Deciding he had lingered long enough, he rose slowly, taking care not to wake her. Gently he brushed a strand of dark hair away from her face and sighed. He forced himself to leave her and sleep in the guest room, alone.


Camilla awoke later that morning. The effects of the potion had begun to wear off but she was still feeling extremely groggy as she reluctantly opened her eyes. Instinctively, she reached out for him but her hand found only the sheets. She sat up quickly, her heart racing. Oh, god, she thought.

She dressed quickly. Please, he’s got to be all right. She blinked back tears as her fingers struggled to fasten her robes. Finally she decided she didn’t care whether or not they were on backwards.

She rushed through the hallway and stopped short at the kitchen. He was sitting at the table, reading what looked like one of her Muggle romance novels. She exhaled in relief.

“Erm, I don’t think that book is your style,” she said with a smirk.

He looked up at her. “It’s rubbish,” he said in disgust. “Yours?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well, it’s certainly not yours,” she said with a grin. She sat down at the table and looked at him expectantly.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he scowled.

“Oh,” she said flatly. She guessed nothing had changed. He had never shared this part of his life with her before. She didn’t know why she thought it would be different now.

“I’m fine,” he assured her.

She smiled weakly. “Well, I knew you would be.”

There was a long awkward pause during which Severus began thumbing through the novel again. Camilla supposed that the conversation was over. She desperately wanted to know what had happened between Severus and the Dark Lord. Had he been tortured? she wondered, biting her lip to stop the tears from flowing again. Surely the Dark Lord would have noticed something was different about Severus, wouldn’t he? Still, there he was sitting in her kitchen, alive and well. Apparently, the Dark Lord was going to let him live, for now at least.

She pushed all thoughts of Voldemort to the back of her mind. There was no use worrying about it. She couldn’t change the situation and would only make it worse if she pressed the matter further. She decided to change the subject.

“Did Dumbledore tell you that classes start Monday?” Camilla asked finally.

“No, he neglected to mention that,” Severus grumbled. “Please tell me how I’m supposed to teach this class?”

“Well, it’s easy. You just insult Harry, take a few points from Gryffindor here and there, and assign long, boring assignments.”

He stared at her with a scowl on his face. “Well, it certainly sounds easy, indeed.”

Camilla suppressed a laugh. “Don’t worry. There’s a textbook you can teach from. You’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” he said irritably.

She reached out and covered his hand with hers. “I’ll help you,” she said.

He looked down at her hand and she pulled it away quickly. “Sorry,” she mumbled, feeling her cheeks flush.

Severus cleared his throat. “Why do I hate Potter again?” he asked quickly.

“Oh…um…well, he is James’ son. He looks exactly like him and well, he doesn’t seem to really care much about following the rules and uh…you didn’t like that,” she finished lamely. She eyed him skeptically. Surely he wouldn’t believe that.

He looked at her for awhile. “So, because of that I hate him?”

“Well, yeah. It has a lot to do with James. You really hated each other and Harry reminds you of that time in your life.”

“Very well. I hate Potter. Understood.”

Camilla smiled. “So, what do you have planned today?” she asked.

He shot her an exasperated look.

“Well, maybe you could come into Hogsmeade with me,” she offered, trying to sound casual. “I need to get a few things.”

“And Hogsmeade is…?” he asked impatiently.

“Oh, sorry. I keep forgetting you don’t know. It’s a wizarding village close to Hogwarts. We can visit some of the shops and have a drink, maybe,” she said, feeling her face grow warm again. Severus gave her an appraising look but said nothing for a moment.

Camilla suddenly found herself wishing the floor would swallow her. She never thought she would feel so uncomfortable asking her own husband to go into town with her. But Severus finally said he would go if she wanted.

“Ok, let’s go,” she said, jumping up from the table like an overly excited school girl.

Severus sat there gazing up at her with a strange smile on his face.

“What?” she demanded.

“Nothing. It’s just that you might want to fix your robes first.”

She looked down and saw that she had indeed put them on back to front. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” he said, turning back to his book.

She smiled. Thank god.

Chapter Six

Several hours later, Severus found himself in the Three Broomsticks. His wife had gone to fetch them some drinks and was talking animatedly with the curvy bartender.

He scowled and rubbed his eyes. Although he hadn’t minded the fresh air, Camilla seemed in no hurry to buy anything at all. He had followed her as she entered half a dozen different shops, picking up and looking at everything. She needed new robes but couldn’t decide which color; she wanted to buy a new quill but they didn’t seem to have the type she liked; Honeydukes had far too many sweets to choose just one. After what seemed like an eternity, Camilla finally gave up and suggested a drink at the Three Broomsticks. Severus had never been so pleased.

He quickly became agitated waiting for her to return with the drinks. She seemed to be having a lovely time chatting with the barmaid while he sat there in resentful silence.

Finally he decided he had waited long enough. He approached the bar and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to the loo. Please be at the table when I return.”

She looked annoyed but nodded nonetheless.

Severus made his way to the back of the tavern and into a dimly lit hallway that held the lavatories. He stopped short as images began to race through his mind.

He grabbed Camilla by her wrists and pinned her against the wall. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her fiercely. He felt his heart race as she reciprocated. He released her wrists and cupped her face in his hands. Then suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his knee where her shoe had made contact and his knee gave out.

He released her and rubbed his knee. “I thought this was what you wanted,” he hissed.

“You’re insane!” she cried. Her whole body was trembling and her face was bright red. “You think I want this? Here?”

He glared down at her. “My mistake,” he said in a soft, dangerous voice. “I assure you, it will never happen again,” he spat. Then he turned and swept out of the tavern.

Severus found himself leaning against the wall for support and gasping for breath. What was that?

“Severus?”

He looked up and saw Camilla rushing over to him with a concerned look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“What are you doing out here in the hall?”

He just shook his head and returned to their table on very shaky legs. He sat there for a few moments in silence. What had he done to her?

“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked.

“Yes. I just started feeling a little dizzy, that’s all,” he lied.

“Maybe all this shopping has worn you out,” said Camilla. “We can go, if you’d like.”

“Fine,” he said.

As Camilla said her goodbyes to the barmaid, he wondered what on earth had led to that moment in the hall and wished he could remember more like it.
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I've been going over the chapters I have written and unfortunately I've come to the conclusion that I will not be able to post any more chapters here. The content is not exactly family friendly but if I were to edit it it would compromise the story too much. So, if you would like to read more, owl me. Sorry.