The Man Who Came In From The Cold

JK Rowling's characters and Wizarding Universe are all uniquely hers. Plot, new characters, new magical terms and abilities etc. are my intellectual property. If you want to borrow then please kindly ask.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. If you are looking for strict Canon or even a slight deviation from Canon you won’t find it here.

Summary: The war has carried on well past Harry Potter’s 7th Year. Snape is on the run from Voldemort and the Ministry of Magic, both of whom will stop at nothing to silence him. He finds unexpected refuge in the most unlikely of places.

The Man Who Came In from the Cold


Chapter 010: Les Liaisons Dangereuses

Never one to sleep for very long, Snape was the first to awaken the next morning. He glanced at the clock on the small table next to the bed; four o’clock… He was not surprised by the lack of a hangover. Muggle alcohol was nothing compared to that of the wizarding world; and three bottles of wine were no match for even a single shot of Firewhiskey.

Snape looked at the young woman slumbering peacefully next to him. And as he thought of her and the comforting warmth of her presence, he frowned. He had done the one thing he’d sworn he would never do: he’d lost control. He could potentially be putting himself in danger. He looked down at Esmé, now curled up against him. Even though they really did not know each other, he did not want to see her hurt. He did not want another innocent to forfeit their life because of associations with him, however minimal. And Jersey’s resident Death Eater was filled with certainty that her life would be forfeit should they not deliver themselves from temptation.

Esmé stretched in her sleep and her arm went up and across his abdomen as she snuggled closer. Snape was as ramrod stiff lying down as when he was standing. Rather than push her away as common sense and cool logic dictated, Snape drew her closer into his arms, and held her tightly for a moment. Then with all the willpower he could summon, he extricated himself from her embrace. Slowly and carefully he eased himself out of bed.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered as he looked down at her. ‘I’m sorry – I can’t do this…’

He grabbed his clothes and hurriedly put them on, acutely aware that he was compounding a mistake by making an even greater one. It seemed to be a recurring theme in his life; one that was overwhelmingly difficult to correct.

‘Sebastian…’ came a soft, hoarse murmur as he fastened the last button on his pants.

Snape froze, but refused to look down at the woman who had definitely ensnared his senses. If he didn’t turn his back on her and walk away now, he would fall over the precipice.

‘Sebastian…?’ she mewed gently.

‘Why is this happening to me,’ Snape hissed in his mind. ‘Why in Merlin’s name is this happening to me of all people!’

The young woman adjusted herself – and reached for him yet again. Feeling nothing, she began to wake up. Esmé awoke to the sight of Snape inching across the room to the door as quickly and quietly as he dared.

‘You weren’t even going to say goodbye…’ she whispered hoarsely. ‘Not even so much as a note? I guess I don’t rank as high as D’Arcy apparently did in that respect…’

‘Don’t even compare yourself to him,’ Snape said, finding his voice but not looking at her. ‘You are everything he is not.’

‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘And why is that?’ Snape queried.

‘Leave her be!’ the devil on his shoulder screamed. ‘You owe her nothing – you have shared space in a bed, nothing more. There were no intimacies shared or promises made. You owe her nothing!’

‘Because if you thought I was worthy enough, you wouldn’t leave and certainly not like this. I don’t even exist to you. You want to forget this ever happened…’

‘I have to…’ Snape said, grabbing his heavy woolen coat. ‘It’s for the best.’

Esmé looked up at him, failing to hide the hurt she was feeling deep inside. She didn’t even know him, and yet she had felt something as they spent hours talking through the night. Now she was feeling undeniable rejection: he’d seen the trussed-up doll in the window, taken it down of its shelf and then put it back as though it tainted him. She supposed she ought to be grateful that he hadn’t pushed her for a blow job before deciding she wasn’t good enough. Too many of what had turned out to be the wrong men seemed to look at sex as a divine right for what little dubious attention was bestowed upon a woman. And as she and Ravenscroft had literally only been sleeping together with their underwear on in the same bed – these were all firsts and very important ones, she supposed. Yet the feeling of rejection still remained.

‘Well…’ she swallowed. ‘At least it kept you out of doors for the night…again…’

She lay back down and turned away from him, pulling the covers up and curling into a ball as though to keep warm. The room was a bit chilly…it was a convenient enough truth should an excuse be needed. He seemed to be a man who noted and ranked every gesture as much as he measured every word and inflection.

‘What do you want from me!’ Snape demanded.

‘Nothing more than you are willing to give…’

‘Liar!’

‘You’re right about that. I have this very bad habit of denial. I’m no better than Chris sometimes…’

‘I am NOT D’Arcy!’ Snape shouted angrily.

Heavy thumps sounded from above them and Esmé paused before answering.

‘No – you most certainly are not…’

‘And what is that supposed to mean!’

‘Nothing more than it does.’

There was a tense silence between them. Snape willed himself to find something to be angry about which would vindicate his behaviour as much as it would his attitude, but found there was nothing.

‘I have never been one to yield to temptation! Never!’

‘LIAR! You followed me… ignoring everything I said! It was you who followed me!’

Snape could say nothing as an angry pounding sounded on the wall that the bed rested against.

‘Will you SHUT UP!’ a man’s muffled voice called out. ‘Some of us would like to get some sleep!’

‘You made your decision the moment you got on that bus!’ Esmé continued in a low voice. ‘And now, something holds you back. And I don’t think it has as much to do with whatever it is you are running from in Britain – as it does with you yourself!’

‘If you walk out that door your just might regret it for the rest of your sorry life,’ came a voice Snape hadn’t bothered to acknowledge in years.

He’d never been one for such foolishness, but there it was. After all this time, struggling to survive and battling for the right just to live – he had still dared anyone to touch him. And yet this woman did, however inexplicably. His fate was sealed the moment she took his side against D’Arcy and her sister. His curiosity had gotten the best of him; he hadn’t entirely meant for this to happen and it frustrated him to no end.

Maybe Esmé touched him just a bit – and perhaps because he wanted her to. He needed something even in his new life besides the tedium of work. He was going to get hurt in the end for this foolishness. He always got hurt. Lily had set a precedent in this regard. He had never known it was possible to love the way he had loved her or that it was possible to hurt – and hurt so much for so long; for too long.

But every time he allowed himself to sate his physical needs thereafter, he had been chasing some vague hope that he could find that bliss again – find it and perhaps even eclipse it, banishing the influence of the hurt and pain forever. He thought he had found it, and in the most unexpected of places. Instead of happiness, it had very nearly destroyed him.

xxxxxxxxxx

It had been some time since he’d been summoned by the Dark Lord. He’d taken to indulging himself a bit, such as it was. And if he were honest with himself, it went beyond a simple need; it was because of a particular someone.

Narcissa.

She always respected his opinion and honored his counsel after soliciting his guidance; she always took his side against her lunatic of a sister and the others that spoke against him in the Death Eater ranks; she took to calling on him at his home, just to talk she had said at first (after all he did insist on looking after her and Draco once Lucius was locked away in Azkaban) – and over time their affair began. As with Lucius before him, he was slowly drawn into Narcissa’s ever-expanding web of seduction. He should have known better.

But what he wanted was never to be; he found out just how much he had been deceiving himself when he lost control and professed a peculiar developing sentiment in the heat of their ‘In flagrante delicto’.

‘Don’t be a fool,’ Narcissa had snapped just after he’d climaxed deep inside her. ‘I will never leave him for you! We both used each other, Severus – Slytherin to the end!’

It was to be the last time they were intimate. They’d fought, oh how they’d fought immediately after! She’d pushed him off her as if he were some sort of contaminant and couldn’t make her escape quickly enough. He didn’t want to believe it, even though his instincts were telling him to walk away and forget it had even happened. She certainly had, in the end.

Several weeks later, thinking that all that had been needed was simply enough time for their decidedly hot tempers to cool down, he decided it was time to resolve their conflict. They had said a lot of things they didn’t possibly mean in the heat of the moment, he had thought, and in her haste to remove herself from his premises Narcissa seemed to have forgotten the set of keys she’d given him to Malfoy Manor.

Snape ignored the plea to leave from the old house-elf that came flying at him when he stepped into the grand foyer. He went upstairs and found her with the Dark Lord’s new favourite in the heat of their own ‘In flagrante delicto’.

Even Snape hadn’t had such an honour as to fuck Lucius’ wife in their marital bed. It was too ironic that he’d never presented her with a set of keys to Spinner’s End… His passion, his affection, his willingness to do whatever it took to save her (and, by default, her son) died in that moment.

In the aftermath, his defenses had multiplied and the devastation influenced him such that he destroyed even the faintest hint of possibility so that he would never be so affected ever again. He had cried, broken down and at one point damn near had a nervous breakdown after the truth was laid bare to him. It was so unlike the stereotypical cold, unemotional personage that he presented to the world at large. Something deep inside was obliterated yet again; and his disposition became so unusually taciturn and withdrawn that Dumbledore feared he might actually harm himself. For the first time in all the years since he’d come to know him, Snape had seen fear in Dumbledore’s eyes as the aged wizard tried desperately to keep his Potions Master sane – yet again...

The Headmaster called on him in his quarters at Hogwarts, an extremely rare occurrence. Over the next two years it became a Sunday afternoon ritual. The Headmaster was not his father, but had Snape been able to do a bit of foolish wand-waving Dumbledore was exactly the sort of man he would have wished for a kind of ‘Pater Familias’.

Snape would say very little during these sessions. He admitted nothing and acknowledged just as much. However, what he would do was listen. And for Dumbledore, his willingness to listen spoke more than any platitudes or invectives that could have come from his lips.

‘If you truly want love and to be loved truly,’ The aged wizard had intoned one rainy day over steaming cups of tea, ‘then do not pursue it where it is to least likely be found, Severus. Do not deceive yourself any further in this regard and do not use this war as an excuse to avoid it. You do yourself a great disservice. Where there is the will, the way can always be found. Love may very well save you in a way that your Slytherin sensibilities cannot.’’

The Headmaster was grateful to be the one guiding, influencing force in Snape’s life. He was convinced that love, true love, could make a difference, but only if his Potions Master allowed it to. However he was no fool: it would take something extraordinary for that to happen.

And Dumbledore had remained steadfast in this belief and in his Potions Master even in that last fateful encounter at the top of the Astronomy Tower.

If Snape was unsure of anything else, he at least most definitely knew that though it was of little comfort to him.

xxxxxxxxxx

Snape felt his insides gather into a knot. Every cell in his body screamed for him to flee as quickly as he could and put as much distance between himself and Esmé as possible. It was time he left anyway. Christiane might not bother with the morning’s work, but no doubt she expected him to get on with it all. If he caught the first early morning service, he could make it back in enough time and she would be none the wiser.

‘I should be going,’ he said coldly. ‘Your sister won’t be best pleased if she finds the morning’s work has not been done and that the reason is because I am not where I should be…’

Esmé looked at him momentarily and then out the one window of the room. It was pitch black outside, but already St. Helier was coming to life: Market traders and grocers from all over the island were starting their descent on the docks for their deliveries; the bakers were already at work preparing for the morning trade; commuters to mainland Britain and France were starting to get ready for work.

‘Yes, you certainly do have responsibilities,’ she sighed. ‘And you have a lot to learn about my sister and the man who really runs the show for the two of you. He’s controlling you as much as he is her if you think you can’t spend a night away from making him even richer than he already is. You aren’t working for yourself or even my sister: you are working for Guillaume D’Arcy and I guarantee you he will not let you forget it no matter how fair a Master or Landlord he is. God help you both if he loses interest in her…’

Esmé didn’t realise it; but she had just touched a critical core of Snape’s psyche. Control; it was something he was loathe to relinquish. To be controlled by anything or anyone other than himself was nothing less than despicable to him. He had been controlled and, if he were completely honest, influenced by too many of the wrong people for the wrong reasons for most of his life: his Muggle father, the Dark Lord, Lucius, Narcissa and Bellatrix. And then there were the Marauders…

Could he ever truly be free? Free to live or die or love just like anyone else who was not a Death Eater, was not a wizard? Could he ever simply BE as even the most benign of Muggles is free to? From what little he knew of her, Esmé was certainly free; free to come and go as she chose, free to create her tapestries or not, free to pursue this ludicrousness with performing despite her claims to have no vested interest in doing so – how he envied her!

But Snape didn’t answer as he started taking off his clothes again.

‘I thought you had somewhere to be…’ Esmé said quietly.

‘My common sense has prevailed; it is far preferable to remain indoors given that the buses are not likely to be running just yet.’

‘That wasn’t stopping you before! So what’s changed!’ Esmé demanded.

‘Do you want me to go?’

‘Far be it from me to send you to your death in the freezing cold. The floor is all yours.’

Once again, Esmé turned her back to him.

‘Why are you being like this!’ Snape demanded.

There was no answer, so he sat down and reached across the bed, turning her to face him.

‘Why are you being like this?’ he asked, this time more calmly.

‘It doesn’t really matter; it’s not important. Do what you want; I don’t care…’

‘Liar,’ Snape said gently. ‘If you didn’t care, you would have let me walk out that door as I intended to. You have put a great deal of effort into keeping me here.’

‘If you remain here – let it be because you really want to be and not because I had to talk you into it. I don’t need it, Sebastian, and neither do you. And let’s be completely honest, shall we? I couldn’t keep you here if you really didn’t want to be!’

Snape didn’t answer and got back into bed – again with his underwear on.

‘I don’t want you in my bed just for the sake of keeping warm,’ Esmé said tightly.

‘I know you don’t and I am not here for that reason. We both know that some couples meet and manage to form a strong bond on the basis of a seeming instantaneous attraction; but I have my reasons for not being entirely as indulgent as I could be. Any relationship worth having takes time. Perhaps we put the cart before the house; but there is no reason not to try if that is what we both want after this debacle of a start.’

‘So you admit that you were considering it?’

‘What does it achieve to hear me admit that I wanted to make love to you?’

‘Ahh; you wanted to fuck me, you mean…you wanted to take it and then run.’

‘Don’t be so crass – it doesn’t suit you. Be that as it may, now is not the time to be having this discussion – we both could do with a bit more sleep…’

Snape found himself admitting a cold truth only to himself – and it made him feel uneasy. He had leapt off the precipice into the dreaded unknown.

And it scared him.

For the first time, in a long time, Severus Snape was feeling quite afraid indeed as lay beside the young woman who was turning his life in exile upside down because he was allowing her to.

xxxOOOxxx

The footfalls mockingly mirrored her own as she tried to outrun them.

Red walls. As far as the eye could see, there was only a never-ending labyrinth of red walls. She ran – and ran – and ran…

A figure stepped out in front of her.

‘And where do you think you’re going?’ the dark figure hissed at her.

She stopped suddenly, and cried out from the pain of her ankle turning sharply. She whirled quickly as though to run from the direction in which she’d come and found that the walls had closed and sealed against her.

He stepped forward and pushed her against the wall – hard. She pushed him back and then recoiled from the shock of the punch that set her reeling. His eyes – something had clearly taken over him and he was nothing less than mad, filled with a danger that turned him on and made her fear for her life.

‘S’il vous plait…’ she whispered tearfully. ‘Laissez-moi partir…’

‘You think you’re too good for me, hmm? Just like the rest of them…!’

‘S’il vous plait…’

He withdrew his classic 18-inch AB Coltellerie Stiletto and admired the sight of the unsheathed dagger glinting malevolently as it caught some of the red light. He thrust himself hard against her and drew the blade back and forth across her face…

‘I am not going to tell you again. Shut. Up!’

She began to cry even harder as he cut the ties of her cape…

She closed her eyes as blade played over the curves of her body and she felt the hotness of his rancid breath on a cheek.

‘Does he pay for your fancy clothes? Hmm?’ he said hoarsely. ‘I never thought I would like this; it’s fascinating that I do…!’

‘Non! Laissez-moi partir… Laissez-moi partir… Let me go, please let me go!’

‘No… You are mine now; my reward…’

‘Laissez-moi partir… Let me go, please let me go!’

Esmé woke hard from her nightmare; she was sweating and shaking all over as tears streamed down her face as she begged an unknown someone to please let her go.

‘Non!’ she whispered as she looked around frantically and tried to catch her breath. A warm hand reached out to her and she flinched when it connected with her flesh.

‘Esmé,’ Snape whispered as he pushed her damp hair off her face. ‘It’s alright…I’m still here Love. No one can hurt you… ‘

The young woman turned to him blindly and let him envelope her in a tight embrace as she cried herself back asleep, having never fully woken up.

xxxOOOxxx

Never one to be bothered with emotions let alone emotional women, Snape found himself quite shell-shocked by the simple action of holding Esmé in a comforting embrace. That nightmare of Esmé’s… in that one irrational moment all he wanted to do was protect her from the bogeyman that tormented her in her dreams. Where he able to use magic undetected, he would have. Snape moved her hair back from her face. Women didn’t usually give someone like him the time of day unless he paid for their services or they were a certain type of follower of the Dark Lord – the kind who wanted rank and power. Narcissa had certainly achieved through him what had never been possible with her own husband.

But as quickly as devil on his shoulder gave him a solid ticking off for not leaving Esmé, he’d find himself looking at her again as she slept in his arms and then hold her tighter. He thought about what he’s felt from her – acceptance, desire and an unspoken need (though she certainly wasn’t needy in the manner he tended to despise). He’d rarely stayed the whole night with a woman and most certainly not like this. Narcissa had been the one exception, and only on the odd occasion when she stayed over at his former home.

Snape didn’t trust this situation with Esmé; he didn’t trust it because he couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand it because he’d never really had someone special in his life seemed to like him, and who simply wanted to be with him from the word ‘go’. He had absolutely nothing to recommend himself to her. He was the one no one usually bothered with unless there was something he could do for them. His were the feelings that were never returned. Everything about him had always been fodder for the bullying, disregard and hatefulness of others. He’d rarely had any encouragement to be other than what he’d turned out to be and his life experiences had simply reinforced this belief.

There had been only two exceptions: Albus Dumbledore and his mother.

But he’d offered everything he was and all that he wanted to be to Lily. And she’d thrown it back in his face – until that night; that fateful night when her son was just over a year old…

He and Esmé didn’t even know each other… well he certainly had more of a measure of her than she did of him at the moment. Snape wanted something to make up for everything that he’d been put through – he wanted what he’d never had in the whole of his miserable life. He wanted to be truly wanted and he did want love – even if he didn’t particularly deserve it.

Without thinking about it, Snape began to stroke his way down Esmé’s body, savouring every curve, every inch of warmth. Esmé’s mouth sought his sleepily as she gave into his caresses.

‘Make love to me, Sebastian,’ she murmured. ‘I want you to…’

Their bodies entwined and they began to devour each other hungrily as the sun began its ascent over the horizon and the traffic trawled steadily beneath their window. Snape’s breathing was laboured as he pushed Esmé onto her back and then thrust hard deep inside her. Now fully awake, she cried out and then wrapped her legs around his back. With each plunge into her wetness there was a cacophony of moans from each of them as the old mattress protested against their activity with a barrage of squeaking. Snape couldn’t concentrate on her mouth and the pleasure of his arousal inside her at the same time as he began another round of savage thrusting, ignoring the incessant banging from the wall, ceiling and floor. Nothing was going to interfere with their pleasure.

‘Je mort Je mort!!’ she cried loudly as she looked up into his black eyes, ablaze with fire in the light of the rising sun. ‘My God – I’m dying!’

‘YOU WILL DIE IF YOU DON’T SHUT THE FUCK UP!’ some dim voice shouted.

Snape assaulted her mouth again and engaged her tongue in battle until he brought her to a screaming climax.

‘Goddamn it oh Merlin!’ he shouted as he finally exploded inside her through his own.

Had his eyes been open he would not failed to notice the look of surprise on Esmé’s face; first surprise followed by delight…and then worriment.

xxxOOOxxx

Snape and Esmé lingered over their breakfast; to the casual observer they seemed little more than friends. However, the waitress and manageress at Le Café Rouge were nothing less than shocked. In all the time that Esmé had come over to perform with her friends or visit her sister, not once had there been any mention of a man. Everyone knew that she’d never indulged in all the casual sex that she certainly could have done. And yet here she was with a man – a man that no one could recall seeing before. He definitely wasn’t local. But then neither was she. For all anyone knew, they’d met in France and he’d come over especially. But they’d had a late dinner and had been the last to leave just the night before, and now here they were again first thing in the morning.

Something was going on, definitely.

‘I never thought she’d go for that type!’ one of the waitresses sniggered.

‘And which type is that?’ asked the manageress, hoping she sounded innocent.

‘A bit of rough…’

‘It’s always the ones like her who act like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths…’

‘Maybe he’s well-hung?’

‘Typical, It’s always the fugly ones, eh?’

The two women looked at Snape and Esmé and then at each other, knowingly as they stifled their laughter. After another few minutes their curiosity faded and Esmé’s private life was forgotten as the locals piled in on their way to work or the regulars with nothing better to do than have a leisurely breakfast. Gossiping was far more interesting when it concerned people that they knew of from around the island, and particularly one Guillaume D’Arcy.

xxxOOOxxx

‘I better get going,’ Snape said for about the tenth time since they’d taken their seats.

It was just going to be a quick coffee; then just a quick croissant; instead they’d lingered for just over an hour and were no close to leaving than when they’d finished the first of their hot drinks.

‘Mmm hmm,’ Esmé said leaning forward at the same time as he.

They fell into yet another comfortable silence after Snape summoned the waitress for their bill. He and Esmé still took their time finishing the remainder of their full French breakfasts.

‘Your nightmare,’ Snape said slowly. ‘You were quite terrified.’

Esmé put down her mug of hot chocolate and stared into it.

‘I was,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve always had the most awful dreams… it’s just silliness really.’

‘It was anything but; do not try to convince me otherwise.’

‘Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?’ their waitress asked as Esmé and Snape began taking out their money.

‘Given that we are settling the bill, it is apparent that the answer to your question is ‘no’, Snape said coldly as he pushed Esmé’s money back towards her and paid the bill himself.

‘Suit yourself then,’ the girl shrugged.

Snape and Esmé looked at each other and ignored the ‘arsehole’ comment that followed.

‘Did something – happen – to bring on that dream?’ Snape asked cautiously.

Esmé shook her faintly.

‘No – Oh God no…never!’

‘Come – walk with me to the station…’ Snape said standing.

He helped her with her coat and then bundled himself into his. As the door closed behind them, he put an arm around her. He didn’t need eyes in the back of his had to know what reaction that had elicited from interested parties inside.

‘Is that for show again or because you want to?’ Esmé asked as they began their walk, with Snape’s arm still wrapped around her holding her close.

‘Because you’re letting me…’

‘Is it because you want to, Sebastian!’

Snape pulled her into a private mews that sheltered them from being observed once they could no longer be seen from the restaurant. Esmé looked at him hesitantly; she never had been any good with casual relationships – and yet somehow she couldn’t help but to feel that this was insane. Still, it’s not like they had a commitment or had made any promises to each other. In his mind she probably was just a one-night stand and because she’d made herself available. There was just something about him, an inexplicable something that drew her to him… she wanted him to like her; to really, really like her. They were going back and forth about everything between them and nothing had been settled.

But he’d followed her to St. Helier and she had done what she could to discourage him, hadn’t she? He stayed with her in the end and both got what they had wanted, hadn’t they?

‘I won’t tell you that I am not in the habit of casual affairs, because that would be a lie – and a most grievous one indeed,’ Snape said firmly.

To Esmé it was as though he had read her mind – and was getting ready to head off into the proverbial sunset even though it wasn’t yet mid-morning.

‘However, I can tell you that such activity is not entirely the norm for myself; it was circumstance that dictated such behaviour rather than any proclivities I have,’ he continued.

Esmé nodded, but found herself shrinking back from the intensity of his gaze.

‘You’ll miss your bus and with the roads such as they are…’ she blurted.

‘No – we will not part under a cloud of misunderstanding.’

‘It’s fine. I understand. We don’t really know each other… and, and…’

‘And we made love this morning because we wanted to…’ Snape said moving her deeper into the shadows. ‘And I pursued you…’

‘Because you knew you could get me…because I put it all out there…’

‘No – I knew nothing of the sort.’

‘Then why…?’

‘I might ask you why took me into your bed and then let me behave that way towards you given that it is not in your nature to indulge your desires without evaluating a potential suitor carefully.’

‘I don’t have a simple answer to that.’

‘I am no different. However, I know what I am and the life I’ve led – and that is what concerns me. Do not mistake your sister’s risk-taking with me to be a glowing endorsement of my character. She does not know me any more than you do after all this time; and D’Arcy certainly doesn’t!’

‘Look – I’m a grown woman,’ Esmé said, steering them out of their hide-a-way and towards the bus station once more. ‘You don’t have to place nice or let me down gently, although I guess it says something that you are at least willing to be civilized about it. I’ve been around this block before. We part as friends and then never darken each other’s doorsteps again. I won’t say a word to my sister or your boss and you can just carry on like nothing ever happened on the rare occasion that I come to see her – that is if you decide to stop running and give your new life here a chance.’

‘I did consider doing just that. But I do want to allow myself to have a new life,’ he continued. ‘That is what I came here for. And I suppose that inclusive in that new life is any number of things previously denied to me; along with things I denied myself.’

‘Allow yourself?’

‘I am not one for recklessness, Esmé! Nor am I the sort that sets store in the hearts and flowers your sex attaches to intimate relationships,’ Snape said as they rounded a corner. ‘You will have a fuller understanding in time…’

‘I will?’ she whispered, stopping him near the entrance to the station.

There were numerous people out and about. And Snape was not the sort for protracted goodbyes any more than he was uncontrolled romanticism. He had pursued Esmé because of the faintest hint of promise he perceived in her acceptance of him, and particularly in her defense of him against D’Arcy and her sister. He wanted to put the days well behind him when he had to pay for some semblance of companionship or indulge in tedious shagging with Death Eater trash.

‘I am not an easy man as you no doubt have ascertained given your intelligence. And I can assure you, yet again, that if my interest in you were merely carnal, we would not have had this conversation let alone come to this agreement.’

Before Esmé could reply they had reached the ticket hall. She stood to one side as Snape purchased his ticket. She wanted to ask him any number of questions about what he evidently saw in her and about their so-called ‘agreement’; but given what they had already said to each other, there were no easy answers for either of them.

Perhaps it was little more than planets aligning at the right time to bring them both together.

‘Over there,’ said Snape as he gestured towards the gate where the bus was already waiting.

They walked briskly to the waiting area where he was pleased to note that there were not too many people about. He needed to gather his thoughts and think about what his next move would be. Mercifully, the ride home should be relatively quiet. Home; it wasn’t home. But where home would truly be in time he could not know.

Before either could speak, the bus door opened and the few passengers began to scramble for seats.

‘Stay safe…’ Esmé muttered as she turned to leave him.

‘Stay safe…?’ Snape snapped through a scowl. ‘Is that the best that you have to offer me?’

‘What? I…erm…’

‘I have never been one for public displays of affection, Miss Barthélémy,’ Snape sniffed.

‘But I am not wholly adverse to romantic entreaties from you if you care to give them.’

‘Oh I have your permission do I?’ Esmé huffed exasperatedly.

Then she noticed that he was smiling faintly at her. To anyone else it looked like a grimace, but Esmé could see he was definitely trying to at least smile. He truly didn’t know how to handle this any better than she did.

Snape looked around and then leaned in close. ‘Tonight…?’ he whispered.

‘Oui,’ Esmé said as she leaned in and gave him a fast kiss on the lips. She started to pull away and he pulled her back for a kiss of his own. One not quite so fast, one filled with promise.

‘You just broke your own rule, I think,’ she muttered as one of his hands stroked her hair while the other cupped her face.

‘Not the first time with you and I doubt it will be the last between us,’ he murmured before kissing her on the forehead and looking at her as though to memorise every feature.

‘There will be more…?’ Esmé asked hesitantly. ‘You won’t change your mind and run again?’

Snape paused before giving his answer. ‘I can’t make you any promises, nor should you make any to me. I can only say that there is no one else but you and I do expect the same in return for as long as we are involved, Esmé.’

‘LAST CALL!’ the bus driver shouted before reading his list of stops one last time.

Esmé didn’t quite know what to make of Sebastian Ravenscroft, but she was definitely looking forward to finding out what she could. She watched him leave her after one final lingering kiss and board the coach bus. She was unable see much in its dark tinted windows and yet could feel him watching her intensely, and somehow that went a long way towards reassuring her of his interest for the moment. It was interest, but not love – and she’d do well to remember that above all else.

As the coach pulled away Snape watched Esmé ambling through the snow back to the B&B, clearly lost in thought about everything that had happened between them. And now he wondered what she would think if she knew the truth of the man she’d let shag her so mercilessly. She seemed to look worried – understandable given the situation. He was a stranger that no one knew anything about. And for all she knew, this was just a fling. He lived in Jersey and she in Northern France.

Despite the initial outward appearance of confidence, Esmé’s mask had fallen away and he could see that she wanted him to like her, and for more than what was between her legs. He did like her, and he definitely wanted to get to know her better. They both wanted something more if it was possible despite their pretenses to the contrary.

As he leaned back and contemplated the picturesque countryside flying by, Snape came to the conclusion that he was ready to truly live, and he would cross what bridges he had to; come what may. He may be in exile, but there was no reason why he need be so alone.

He’d certainly dealt with far more dangerous situations and people than a relationship with Esmé Barthélémy.

xxxOOOxxx

‘Oh for God’s sake Moony, she’s not worth it!’ Sirius said heatedly later that day. ‘She’s not that great in bed surely!’

‘There is more to a relationship than sex, Sirius. Perhaps one day you will find out for yourself,’ Lupin said dejectedly as he cradled his face in his hands.

‘Ahh, right. So you are going to convince me that after all these years with your right hand being your only comfort that you finally decided that having a girlfriend wasn’t such a bad thing?’

‘Forget I mentioned it. Forget you even knew about us…’

‘Right – You’re better off leaving Hermione to go…’

‘What?’

‘Oh…damn…’

‘What are you talking about, Sirius? You know something! It’s written all over your face!’

‘I don’t know anything, mate. Just overheard Ginny telling Harry that Hermione was going to try and get compassionate leave and take a break from her job; to travel or some such,’ Sirius replied idly.

‘But she can’t get any more time off! That’s all we’ve heard for the last month!’

‘Things change, I guess…’

Lupin stood up fast and walked quickly to the hallway.

‘For God’s sake, you just got here Remus!’

‘I…I have a few things to take care of…’

‘Like going to the Ministry? Don’t do it, mate. You’ll only embarrass yourself. Just let her go – she’s too young…’

‘Oh – well funny you should say that – because she wasn’t too young for you to have a go, now was she?’

‘What? So she finally admitted that did she? Nice…’

‘You approached her and she knocked you back, she told me!’

Sirius took a step back and laughed.

‘Believe what you want, but it takes two to tango and I didn’t use the Imperius on her!’

‘Are you… are you telling me that she… and with you?’

‘I didn’t fuck her, no. She did knock me back – but conveniently decided to do it only after we were quite close to…’

Black gestured with his thumb and index finger to drive the point home.

‘I don’t believe it. I DON’T BELIEVE IT!’

‘It was nothing; we just had one too many drinks trying to deal with what happened with Dumbledore and Snape that night. No one else was around; we started to talk and it just happened. It was a very difficult time and uh…well, what can I say? Things got a bit…hot… and you had called it off with her, remember? So technically you weren’t even together then!’

‘And where exactly did this happen?’

‘Don’t ask any more questions that you really don’t want the answers to!’

‘In the drawing room, the summer parlor…your bedroom?’

Seeing that he’d struck a nerve, Lupin stepped towards the one person he’d thought was truly his friend. But Sirius had only ever really been James best friend. Lupin and Pettigrew had only ever been tag-alongs.

‘You were about to penetrate her and she conveniently decided to come to her senses only after…she…with you…!’

Lupin shook his head numbly at the images that flashed before his eyes.

‘She certainly hedged her bets,’ he continued. ‘The one man any number of witches would sell their souls to the Muggle Devil himself for the promise of his affection and the cachet of the Black family fortune. What would your dear departed mother think of you fucking a Mudblood in her precious….!’

‘You back off, you just back right off! People make mistakes and not one of us is perfect! Not even you no matter what mask you present to the world. Butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth you’re so goddamned self-righteous!’ Sirius roared. ‘You talk about her like she’s some kind of whore! You pontificate about love and morality and decency when you’re no better at it than the rest of us – especially you with so little experience! What have you ever truly done besides wanking and offering what little you have for the sake of a shag or getting blown, St. Remus? Ahhh struck a nerve did I? You must really think we are all stupid. You’re a man! And you are a werewolf! Anyone with a library card can find out all about the impulses that you have to fight against! You can badmouth Hermione and me all you want to – but at least we are honest about who we are and what we’ve done!’

A vein pulsed dangerously at each of the werewolf’s temples.

‘I have only ever tried to do the right thing…’ Lupin began.

‘She was willing to give up everything for you. The Ministry threatened her job over you and she was ready to quit. She had sent the letter and Dumbledore intercepted it. Even he knew that you and her was nothing more than a mistake!’

‘If…if that really happened – then it was because of the work he needed her to do for the Order…’ Lupin intoned coldly.

‘How do you do it, eh? How do you always manage to rewrite history so that it suits this image of yours hmm? You and Hermione only lasted as long as you did because she defied Dumbledore! And before you start, he cared about both of you – but he was a lot more realistic about what was really at work between you than either of you were willing to consider at the time.’

‘And what should we have considered?’

‘That Hermione’s insecurities kept her from being with the one person in the world that really loved her and for all the right reasons; that it suited your ego and martyr complex to have someone as highly regarded as she is turn her back on everything she really wanted and sacrifice herself unnecessarily for one as low as you are!’

‘Hah! No doubt he would have preferred to see her with a Death Eater before the likes of me. No different to Albus giving me a job…’

‘He did give you a job, remember!’

‘Only after what – 13 years? Snape certainly didn’t have to wait that long!’

‘Yeah well Snape was a Death Eater – the only one who right there in the inner circle! All the bullshit you spin about Greyback and where has it gotten you? The werewolves know who sucks up to wizards and who doesn’t, Moony! They know who tries to live with them and who refuses! All these years you never condescended to fraternise that much with your own kind. There were plenty of things you could do for yourself and there still are. You could have had a family – but no, it had to be nothing less than an honest-to-Merlin witch for you…and even then you had the nerve to be so on your high horse about who! Tonks loved you – but no, she wasn’t good enough for good old St. Remus! And no werewolves need apply either; not going to get yourself dirty there! Snape was useful and Dumbledore trusted him more than he should have! He was an old fool when it came to that Slytherin trash and all Hermione ever did was take his word as gospel just like most people did!’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about! You and Hermione…Snape…She’d rather go running around the country after him. Obviously she knows more than she wants anyone to believe and no surprise there!’

‘Hah just like she did in her Third Year with you right? Funny you should mention Snape and her – he had you pegged right from the start when he found out about you two; he laid it right out for Hermione exactly what the real deal was. She was pissed off – really pissed off, but it was only because she knew he was telling the truth. For a moment I almost believed he actually gave a damn about the two of you…and not necessarily to get into her pants. But he wouldn’t touch her for all the gold in Gringotts – he can’t stand her!’

‘She always cared a lot more about him and his opinions than anyone else…’

‘Do me a favour – we both know that isn’t true!’

‘No – we both don’t know! I certainly don’t!’

‘It doesn’t matter; she’d never find him even if she was crazy enough to go looking for him. No way could he be alive…’

‘This is Snape we are talking about! He’s got more lives than Filch’s cat!’

‘Just let it go! Enough is enough! Leave me alone if all it’s going to be is bitching about Hermione and that Greasy Git arsehole! Has it ever occurred to you that she just wants to get the hell away from you? You impaled yourself on your own sword just like the rest of us do from time to time – deal with it! You’ve got a lot more going for you right now than I’ll ever have – not the least of which is you are free to be out there!’ Sirius said angrily as he pointed outside. It was beginning to snow again; this year it would be a white Christmas. Yet another Christmas that he would see in locked behind closed doors.

‘Yes – I most certainly am,’ Lupin snapped as he grabbed his coat and ran out into the night.

He barged passed Tonks, nearly knocking her over and not saying a word. The young Auror glanced at his retreating back and then made her way into the house. She hung up her coat and deposited her rucksack at the foot of the stairs before heading down to the kitchen.

‘It’ll just be us tonight,’ Sirius said as he entered the room behind her.

He took the mug out of her hands and gestured for her to sit while he prepared coffee for the two of them.

‘Sure you wouldn’t prefer to be by yourself?’

‘You always make me smile, ‘Dora. And I think we both could do with some cheer right now… Let me cook dinner for us…’ Sirius replied, before kissing her gently on the cheek.

Tonks went bright pink – enough to match her hair.

‘You’re looking great… feeling better?’ he asked cautiously.

‘Definitely; better than I have in a long time.’

‘Good…so am I…’

‘Really?’

‘Really. No regrets…not one.’

‘I’m a big girl, Sirius; I don’t expect promises you can’t keep.’

‘You’re all I’ll ever need – as long as he’s out of your system. It certainly seems that he is…’

‘Oh I fell in love with the image and the act – then I came to my senses. Anyone who could be so heartless, even if it was to put me off, wasn’t worth it…’

‘Some would think I’m not worth it. I haven’t exactly mastered the fine art of behaving myself or being responsible for my actions. I’m not a nice man either.’

‘You haven’t put a foot wrong since we’ve been together and you always were kind to me. I’m happy to take things one step at a time…it’s all I can do, really.’

Sirius pulled her up from her chair and into a tight hug before kissing her passionately.

‘I thought you’d never see anything worthwhile in me…’ he murmured as she kissed his face.

His hands went up her sweater and then roamed over the warm flesh of her back. They gave into another heated French kiss as he leaned her back against the counter and thrust against her.

‘I thought the same – I thought too many of the wrong things…and I’m sorry for that,’ she murmured in his ear as she moved against him.

‘So am I – but never you mind. It’s all in the past now,’ Sirius said pulling back. We’ll have a great Christmas and an even better New Year.’

He kissed Tonks passionately again and held her close.

‘I love you, ‘Dora, and I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. I just wish I had more freedom to take you out, show you the town – have nice holidays.’

Tonks touched his face and then smiled.

‘I feel the same way – I’m just sorry we had to go through all this to realise it. And we will do all those things and more. Molly’s happy for us – said she’s glad we finally came to our senses.’

‘Hah! Good old Molly, eh? So who else knows besides the Weasleys?’ Sirius said as he gathered a pot and saucepan to make Spaghetti Bolognese.

‘It’s only Molly, Arthur and Ginny that know… and Hermione.’

‘Oh…?’

‘It’s alright – we had an honest talk over lunch today. It took her by surprise, but as long as we are happy that’s all that matters. She’s a different woman now…’

‘Now that she’s come to her own senses, you mean?’

‘Yes – she’s finally giving Viktor Krum a chance. She’ll be spending the holidays with him. Apparently he wants to make up for lost time.’

‘Well I’ll be damned; so she really didn’t have a thing for Snape after all.’

‘Mmm, we all had the wrong end of the stick there. She just thinks that Dumbledore won’t be best pleased when recovers and finds out what’s happened…’

‘Talk about someone having more lives than a cat – I can appreciate her optimism but I can’t see how Dumbledore will pull through. If the best doctors at St. Mungo’s can’t do anything for him after all this time…’

Tonks fell silent as she set out plates and cutlery for the two of them. As ever, she broke half the plates before she managed to get two on the table. She excused herself after repairing the damage and then went to take a hot bath. She needed time alone; time to think about her lunch with Hermione – and Ginny as it had transpired.

Hermione had some very definite ideas about Dumbledore’s recovery, but had sworn her and Ginny to secrecy. They needn’t have taken the vow when she put it to them, but did it all the same to assuage Hermione’s worries.

The last thing anyone else would have wanted to hear was about Hermione’s theory that Snape held the key to Dumbledore’s recovery. Tonks was the only person other than Ginny, Mr. & Mrs. Weasley, Luna Lovegood and her father who didn’t bitterly hate the man beyond all reason. Hermione had been quite right that her two friends could be counted on to be more objective than most in the Order. Ginny loved Harry with all her heart – but even she knew that he didn’t always get the right end of the stick. Her brothers were no better and anything concerning Snape was not to be discussed.

The three of them had reached a definite understanding of sorts. Luna Lovegood’s father was raising very interesting, yet dangerous points in the Quibbler. They had as much to fear from the Ministry of Magic as they did Voldemort in some respects and it had been much the same in the first war, if Mr. Lovegood was to be believed.

Snape had put his life on the line for the Order – and the situation with Dumbledore…well, none of it made any sense. Harry wasn’t as much use as Hermione suspected he could be. If only there was some way to get him to open up about all that he’d experienced…

Mr. Weasley was of the opinion that Snape had been a useful diversion from the actual truth of the latest peculiar turns in the war. He fit a certain mold and it was too easy to exploit on both sides. Their former Potions Master was just a convenient scapegoat as far as too many of the right people were concerned as much as the wrong ones.

If they could find Snape, the Headmaster would definitely survive whatever it was that had happened to him. And once recovered, Dumbledore could clear up the mystery of what really happened that night in the Astronomy tower and in the months leading up to it.

Each of them had been coming to the conclusion perhaps there was more to the situation with Snape being on the run than met the eye.

They needed to find him before someone else did.