Breeding Lilacs out of Dead Land.

Chapter 19 – Like the Quiet Drift of Petals from a Magic Rose.


Anna was almost raw that night, and surprisingly tender by the end. He went to her after leaving Dumbledore\'s quarters, finding Anna skimming through a pile of advanced seventh year essays. The edge of her quill was brushing her thin, yet amazingly sexy lips, soft locks of brown hair framing Anna\'s high cheekbones and accenting the deep, earthy colour of her skin. Leaning forward, Snape brushed his lover\'s hair aside and pressed his lips to Anna\'s nape. He was satisfied to see a tremor of satisfaction passing down her spine.

It was good, passionate sex, the kind of sex to leave scars of possession all over his body and a sense of glowing, sweet numbness. Only afterwards, when he already was half asleep, he felt Anna sneaking under the covers and taking his limp cock into her mouth, kissing, teasing and biting for a long hour until he grew painfully hard again – a thing Snape thought impossible after what they had just shared. Slowly, almost tenderly, Anna brought him to the edge, milking every drop of pleasure out of his stiffening body. It was almost as if she was making love to his cock.

Anna\'s smile when she came up – a trickle of semen dripping down the corner of her mouth – was evil and teasing as ever. Snape pulled her down to a searing kiss. \"What was that for?\"

\"A goodbye present,\" she said softly. \"Goodbye fellatio if you\'d like.\"

\"What the fuck, Anna-\"

She hushed him, sealing his lips with her index finger. \"Don\'t be rude, my love. I thought of holding a romantic, candlelit dinner. But we were never like that. Nothing fancy for the both of us.\" Anna closed her lips around an imaginary cigarette, lying on the bed beside him. \"I wrote to Conrad a week ago. I told him that with Marly finally out of home, I think it\'s time we moved in together on a more permanent basis. That I wanted someone to hold me from behind when I\'m a sleep and to tell me that he loves me over his morning Prophet.\"

Snape blinked, moving his hands through his long, greasy hair. \"Very well, I can see your reasoning; but why – why now, like this…\" he shook his head.

Anna smiled sadly. \"You really don\'t get it, don’t you?\"

He glared at her.

\"While I have no objection whatsoever to sharing you with other women, Severus, I have no intention of being number two on your list.\"

\"What is this bloody nonsense?\"

Anna watched him with amusement tingeing her lovely complexion. \"Things aren\'t the way it had used to be any more. We have grown apart. I believe it is time for each of us to go our separate ways.\"

Snape groaned in frustration, turning on his side to face Anna. \"This is because of Granger, isn\'t it?\"

Anna leaned to remove a stray hair out of his pale, aquiline face. For her, he was always beautiful. \"It is because of me,\" she said tenderly. \"It is because of me being selfish and egoistical. I need to be adored, to have someone who needs me the way you once did, the way Conrad still does.\"

Snape let his eyelids drop, and sank into the pillows. \"I have been unfair to you, Anna.\"

She sneered. \"It was never about fairness.\"

\"Not in the beginning, perhaps, but I\'ve come to like you.\"

\"Then you would have known I never fancied fairness.\" She sat, pulling the blanket to cover her breasts. Their delicious, soft fullness was no longer his to watch or touch. It was hidden from him behind a thin covering of cloth.

\"Indeed I do.\" Slowly, turning his back on her, he moved to his feet.

\"Let\'s not unman each other part at once,\" he heard Anna quoting, uttering the cruel words with soothing, gentle voice. \"All farewells should be sudden when forever.\"

Snape turned around to gaze at his former lover\'s back. Tanned, beautiful olive skin lovingly dented by the soft strokes of shadow that emphasized Anna\'s curved figure and darkened the hazelnut colour of her hair.

\"If this is what you wish,\" he said.

Anna nodded. \"This is what I wish.\"

\"You were my host at the ‘Mermaid’,\" he murmured quietly, while putting on his clothes. \"I could never tipple a drink more fine then your Canary wine, Anna.\"

\"That\'s sweet, Severus. Thank you.\"

He leaned forward to press a kiss to her nape once again. \"Farewell, Anna.\"

\"Isn\'t it a bit melodramatic?\" she wondered, and then sighed. \"Goodbye, Severus. I\'ll see you tomorrow at breakfast. Until then, may the Gods be with you.\"

She didn\'t turn around to watch Snape close her bedroom door behind him.

* * *

\"Good morning Severus!\" The child landed on the seat beside him, which was automatically heightened to fit her smaller size.

Snape glared at his steaming black coffee. \"Where is your mother?\"

\"She said she needed to take care of few things and that I should eat my breakfast with you.\"

Snape rolled his eyes. Great. Absolutely, fucking marvelous. Having breakfast with Aubrey, meant that he would be in charge of the child\'s diet, and had to make sure the child actually ate something. And not just any thing, if you don\'t mind. Oh, no. Granger had very clear opinions about what children should eat for breakfast. Granger, in fact, had very clear opinions about what little children – her little child, to be accurate – must eat for every single meal on the menu, an idea that had very little if anything, to do with her daughter\'s actual preferences. Aubrey, on the other hand, sticking with the adage that said that a problem shared is a problem halved, refused to eat anything unless Snape ate it as well.

Suppressing a sigh, Snape turned to glower at the girl. \"Very well, Aubrey. Your mother\'s instructions state clearly that you have to consume something from all of the major food groups. So what would you like to begin with?\"

The child eyed the porridge. \"Err… perhaps carbohydrates?\"

Snape gave her a sharp glare. \"As you are well aware, your mother\'s instructions also state that the sweets should come at the end of the meal. Next choice.\"

She sighed. \"Well, it was worth a try, wouldn\'t it?\"

Perhaps it was time for some life lessons. Snape adopted his didacticce. ce. \"When dealing with Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, or even a Ravenclaw, this kind of attempt might have seen success. Dealing with a Slytherin however, you are bound to fail. Remember, you must always respect your Slytherin housemates if you wish to survive your first year in Slytherin house. That is, unless they are pureblooded inbreeds you would rather use as your bodyguards.\"

Aubrey screwed up her face thoughtfully. \"Mum says I\'m a certain Gryffindor. But, aside from that, seeing as you\'re my father and all that stuff, do you really think I\'d have any problem surviving in Slytherin? I mean, who would be stupid enough to mess with their Head of House\'s daughter?\"

\"Which only stresses my point about your being sorted into Slytherin.\"

\"Bah.\"

\"That will not exempt you from eating your breakfast,\" Snape had coolly reminded his daughter. \"You\'ll be allowed to eat the porridge after you have consumed at least two items of high nutritional value. If you choose wisely, those two items will consist equally of fats and proteins. That, hopefully, will be the end of our mutual suffering. So take your pick and consider what you wish to eat.\"

Aubrey took Snape\'s warning with the utmost seriousness. Her black gaze scanned the table carefully, assessing the various dishesh thh the caution and attention to details of a Muggle surgeon. Fascinated by the child\'s strange, exotic mannerisms, he didn\'t notice Anna was staring at him for a moment from the other side of the table, nor did he notice her sad smile, or the momentary expression of tenderness that tinted her face when she watched him observing his daughter.

At last, Aubrey picked two pieces of bacon and two egg-halves and distributed them between her and Snape\'s plates. \"Okay,\" she told him. \"The egg has protein, the bacon has fats and the porridge will be the carbohydrate part of the meal. Right?\"

Snape snorted. \"And where are the items with high nutritional value?\"

Aubrey rolled her eyes. \"The bacon of course. It\'s tons of calories.\"

\"I believe that what your mother meant by \'high nutritional value\' was not the energy rate of the product,\" Snape noted dryly.

\"Well, she didn\'t actually say so, didn\'t she?\" Aubrey inquired. \"So we can\'t actually know what she meant, right?\"

Snape smirked. \"You do have a point. Well, bacon, egg and porridge it is. Now, what will you drink- water, cocoa, or pumpkin juice?\"

The child made a big show of making up her mind, and then settled for the cool, sweet pumpkin juice.

Easily, perhaps because they were so naturally correlated in their eating habits, Snape and the girl slipped into a slow, comfortable rhythm of dining and conversing. Hermione, or so it would seem, had told her daughter one story too many about her own schooldays, and now the child was determined to concoct a Polyjuice Potion. To make this recent fantasy possible, Snape was being asked to volunteer his own private lab.

\"This was not even remotely funny,\" he informed his daughter. \"Please finish you egg yolk so we can move on to the porridge.\"

\"But I\'m serious!\" Aubrey cried. \"I\'m doing it out of pure scientific interest! You should encourage me!\"

\"I hereby encourage you to grow up, reach your eleventh birthday, be accepted into Hogwarts and into Potions class, where you could safely and peacefully concoct a Boil Cure Potion, under proper supervision, together with your idiotic classmates,\" Snape retorted calmly.

Aubrey groaned. \"But I can already do that!\"

He arched an eyebrow. \"Really?\"

She nodded. \"Mum taught me.\"

\"So why wouldn\'t your mother teach you to concoct a Polyjuice Potion?\" A devious spark lit up in Snape\'s eyes.

Aubrey glared at him. \"What\'s the point being your daughter if I can\'t even make advanced potions and stuff?\"

\"Who says there is a point being my daughter?\" Snape replied.

\"So you won\'t let me do Polyjuice \'cause it\'s too complicated?\"

\"I won\'t let you use my lab because I hate annoying little children.\"

Aubrey had skillfully ignored Snape\'s last statement. \"So I want to do the Draft of Peace.\"

\"That\'s OWLs Level.\"

\"I know that!\" The child looked frustrated. \"Then what about a Wit-Sharpening Potion?\"

\"Only if you get your mother to agree.\"

A bright smile lit Aubrey\'s elfin face. \"Oh, she said it\'s all right as long as you\'re there to keep an eye on me.\"

A muscle in his jaw flinched. A certain Gryffindor my arse. \"I have changed my mind,\" he told her, noticing the child\'s pupils widening in apprehension. \"I think I shall let you concoct the Polyjuice Potion after all, and then let you test it on yourself once the brewing is completed. Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus,\" Snape added wickedly.

The child scowled. \"You wouldn\'t dare. Mum would hex you.\"

Snape opened his mouth to speak; cursing silently as the nasty crack on his lower lip ripped open and the blood began to well out of it. Reaching for his wand, he was about to murmur the incantation that would heal the wound when a small, tentative hand, was extended to attach a stained napkin to his lips. Aubrey\'s eyes, big, black and expressive, were asking him for permission. For approval. He could see the child\'s eyelashes flutter, covering then uncovering the wobbly, glittering substance of her eyeballs. A small, pink tongue was sneaking out to moisten the girl\'s lips – the way Hermione always did when she was nervous. Did he want to let the child into his world? Did he want this blond, American, Muggle, fluffy little creaturebe abe a part of his life? Or better ask- could he, by shaking his head, push her away and prevent Aubrey and the knowledge her existence from their slow occupation of every aspect of his life? Snape thought not.

Aubrey smiled at his short nod. Her face literally livened with the smile. She reminded him of the female fox he used to watch as a child, coming out of her well hidden burrow. The fox\'s marble-gold eyes were blinking at the dim light that managed to penetrate through the thick foliage, then momentarily flashed when she located him – small, thin, human-cub, sitting on a nearby tree stump and watching her curiously. Severus liked to think the fox was smiling at him. The girl smiled now, with all of the fox\'s animalistic exuberance: her eyes bright and shining, lips spread wide to expose a set of white, smallish milk-teeth; some of them already missing, ready to be replaced by permanent ones. The tiny, invisible hairs on her brows and arms were standing erect, as if to capture the most elusive changes of humidity, temperature and voice in the spacious room.

\"In New-York,\" she began hesitantly, gently removing the linen from his bleeding lips, \"winters are cold, too. Real cold. Mum got me this pocketsize tin container of Vaseline- it\'s really good for cracked lips, mine always do and it is really painful sometimes. Now I use this balm Madam Pomfrey gave me… there, just wait a minute…\" the child reached for a hidden pocket in her school robe and pulled out a small glass flask. Smiling widely, she handed it t \"T \"T \"This stuff is awesome, really. You should use it on daily basis- just put some on whenever you feel your lips are getting sort of dry, you know?\"

There would probably be no point in telling the girl how many times he had received exactly the same awesome balm from Poppy, and how many times he had lost it, broken the flask in which it was contained, or simply forgotten to use it. He thought of other things as well: of a dark haired boy offering his minor tributes – a fallen bird\'s nest he had found; a pretty rock; an interesting dust-covered brooch he located in the attic – to a dark haired man, and being rejected, time and time again, until he stopped offering his tributes. Until the boy simply stopped coming. He found himself thinking of another boy, this one brownish-skinned aboutbout Aubrey\'s age, who lived with his parents in a protected house: a place all three of them thought safe. And wasn\'t safe at all. Not even a little bit. This little boy\'s older sister, Regina Shacklebolt, was currently sitting at the Gryffindor table and eating her breakfast. The little flask, still pulsing with his daughter\'s body heat, felt like something sacred in his hand.

The hall seem to grow quiet around them, as if the scene were only to be interpreted in the following second by subtitles, like in old, black and white silent movies, entirely his mind. Only to have the silence broken, a moment later, when a stream of owls cascaded into the Great Hall, the candlelight reflecting off their rain streaked wings. The child, easily distracted, lifted her gaze, curiously watching a light--coloured, beautiful northern falcon, which glided across the hall. Her gaze was following the bird until it finally landed on the table, spraying water everywhere as it shook off its magnificent down. A thin envelope, Snape noted, was attached to the Lestrange\'s family bird.

\"Looks like that letter is for you,\" the child said expectantly. Aubrey, for some unknown reason, had derived a great pleasure from the mundane task of breaking wax seals and was overjoyed to find out Snape was a regular recipient of many breakable wax-seals. Overwhelmed by the insistent pestering of an eight-year-old girl, Snape had finally surrendered and allowed Aubrey to break open the wax seals on the letters he received; though not before verifying each and every one of them was clear of any sort of dark magic.

Why any of the Lestranges would send him a letter was beyond Snape. Bella had little trust in Owl Mail since it could be traced and had always preferred to use Floo, while Rodolphus would usually approach him before or after the Death Eaters\' meetings.

Frowning, Snape ran the usual series of revealing charms, detecting no dark magic. Even so, he had no intention of entrusting a letter of vague purpose in his daughter\'s hands. \"I\'m afraid this seal would be one I should best see to myself,\" he advised Aubrey.

She screwed up her face, but didn\'t say a thing, recognizing the enigmatic expression of suspicion on Snape\'s face.

Swiftly, he broke the seal, an elegant finger brushing aside the two parts of the purple wax medallion, an orchid – the Lestrange family symbol – still adorning it. Folded inside, was a short note, written in Rodolphus\'s clear, somewhat angular script.

\"Dear Severus,\" it read.

\"My magical Phalaenopsis Giganteans are showing peculiar signs of early wilt – knowing this species does not wilt before spring equinox, when then, they die at once – I am gravely worried.

Being of great assistance to me in the past, I should be enormously grateful if you would agree to meet me at Étrangeté Mansion, as soon as is convenient.

Sincerely yours,

Rodolphus Alain Lestrange.\"

That was a liarliar request. Snape frowned, carefully folding the high-quality parchment and encasing it back into the envelope. It was true Snape had once brewed a special tonic designed to improve one of Lestrange\'s more delicate species absorption of light, sometimes giving him a Potions Master\'s advice concerning this or that patent fertilizer Lestrange had been perfecting, but never anything to suggest Lestrange should be enormously grateful to his fellow Death Eater, and certainly not ask his advice on a purely Herbology issue. Intrigued, Snape tried looking for a code or a hidden message in Lestrange words. There seemed to be none. Was it a trap, then? Rodolphus Lestrange was definitely not the kind to contact someone like this without a reason. Or set traps of his own volition. No, the Lestrange heir was happy to be tending to his orchids, nowadays, as well as years ago. It had been Lestrange\'s younger brother, Rabastan, who inherited all the Lestrange bloodlust, and more than that, Lestrange\'s beautiful Black bride, Bellatrix, that had been Rodolphus\'s downfall.

Snape then felt a small tug at the end of his sleeve. \"Severus? Severus?\"

He had sharply turned his head, fixing his gaze at the child who looked at him worriedly.

\"Is everything all right?\" she asked in a little voice.

He considered his answer carefully. Over the short time he spent with Aubrey Granger, Snape had learned Hermione\'s words were true. Aubrey was perhaps a child, but it didn\'t make her stupid, nor did it make her incapable of empathy. Perhaps she didn\'t understand everything he told her- but she recognized and appreciated honesty. And there was no lying to her. She could detect a pretense from miles. He laced his fingers. \"Truth is,\" he said, \"I am not sure. The content of this note… demand some further clarification, which, in fact, rather worries me.\"

The child swallowed. \"This is about… it\'s about what you do in the war,\" she stated quietly. \"Isn\'t it?\"

He glared at her. \"What exactly did your mother tell you?\"

She answered with a similar glare. \"Nothing. There\'s books, in the library, you know, from after the first war. And there\'s stuff in your rooms, and in your lab, and the tattoo on your hand-\" she wrapped her small, pudgy fingers around his forearm as Snape automatically withdrew. \"Silly,\" she snapped angrily. \"We don\'t mind about that stupid t!\" !\"

\"You foolish girl, what do you know about the Dark Mark?\"

\"The Dark Mark is delivered by a spell known only to Death Eaters, who send it up in the sky when they kill,\" the child quoted with fastidious squint of her lips. \"It takes the shape of an emerald skull with a serpent protruding out of its mouth. Upon joining the Dark Lord\'s service, a Death Eater is required to have the Dark Mark carved unto the skin of his left forearm as a sign of respect and acceptance of his new loyalties. The Dark Mark acts both as an Apparating device, and as an alarm sign, as it summons all Death Eaters to-\"

\"Stop showing off your knowledge,\" he cut her. It had been obvious the girl had read all these parts of Albrick Elderberry\'s transcripts from the Death Eater\'s trials that were available from the restricted section. In any event, she wasn\'t old enough to understand, accept or forgive his past or present, especially not when he was about to deliver another man and his child to their certain death.

Aubrey, as usual, didn\'t seem to take any offense. \"So what are you going to do now?\"

\"I am going to see the Headmaster,\" he informed her. \"Immediately. I\'m afraid you will be forced to disappoint your mother and tell her you weren\'t able to finish today\'s dish of carbohydrates –unless you believe you can manage your porridge without me overseeing to it?\"

Aubrey blinked. \"Oh no, Sir! I\'d be too concerned about your well-being to finish my porridge!\"

\"Just as I suspected. All right. I shall walk you to the additional table where you can sit with the Rivers boys and their mother until you all Floo to Hogsmeade.\" His tone left no place for argument and Aubrey accompanied him silently.

There, at the other end of the Great Hall, sat old, scarred wanderenextnext to young mothers who were breastfeeding their screaming infants. An aging witch was chatting idly with two of the Aurors who were taking a half hour break to have a quick breakfast, while at the other side of the table; someone was reading parts of the Daily Prophet aloud. Aubrey\'s question was almost swallowed by all that noise.

\"Will you be okay?\" she asked once again, this time louder, her words barely reaching his ears.

\"Of course I shall,\" he answered angrily.

The child appeared to be dissatisfied with his answer, but was swept away by one of the Rivers boys, whom Snape had learned to recognize as David.

* * *

Having consulted with Dumbledore, he was now treading in the knee-deep snow outside Hogwarts castle. Snowflakes hit his face and the wind shrieked in his ears as he made his way out of Hogwarts grounds in order to Apparate in front of Étrangeté Mansion.

One out of the two powerful Norman Magical families who had been accepted into the separatist British Wizarding World, the Lestranges had decided to locate their family estate along the eastern coast, several hundreds miles down from their relatives, the Malfoys. The two families had kept close ties ever since. Marrying the Black cousins was a calculated decision on both sides,– killing three birds with one stone – assuring blood-purity, preventing degeneration through mésalliance, eve even while doing so, keeping the two Normans families traditional connections alive.

Malfoy Manor and Étrangeté Mansion, Snape knew, had been built at about the same time. But while the Lestrange\'s castle kept its gothic style, Malfoy Manor had been rebuilt and redecorated time and time again over the years, until little resemblance remained between the two buildings. Étrangeté Mansion had somehow reminded him of the Snape family house; a moss-covered, gloomy fortresatchatching over the land\'s end and onto the dark, stormy sea.

With these memories unpicking the rims of his mind, Snape strode toward the wooden gates of the castle that were keyed to recognize him. It was opened, and Snape walked into the large, somber stone-yard. Held in confiscation by the Ministry of Magic for many years, many parts of the house were still suffering disuse and neglect. The Lestranges, who took back over the house some ten years ago, weren\'t actually interested in rebuilding. Rodolphus had taken care of his belovedenhoenhouses while Bella saw to the living-quarters, but none of them had taken any interest in the building beyond what was immediately necessary. A shame, since such an historical representative should have been taken care of appropriately.

The knocks of his heels against the flagstones were carried along the yard like a choir of lucid, greyish-blue imaginary doves. Rain was falling, soft and elusive, caressing Snape\'s face as he made his way to the greenhouses, where he was sure to find Rodolphus.

Lestrange, as could be expected, was seated on a renaissance stone bench next to a medium height orchis, his dark head bent over the plant. The beautiful flower, its creamy-textured petals dotted black and white, was carefully planted in a magically adapted container, and enveloped by a wet, transparent magical bubble.

\"Severus…\" Lestrange raised up his head. \"Come, look.\" Tapping on the stone bench, he invited Snape to take at. Lt. Lestrange\'s fingers had easily penetrated the magical bubble, and shining with moisture, caressed the soft leaf of the plant with what seemed to border on reverence. Snape leaned forward to observe the leaf. A refined, aristocratic rot was somewhat crumpling its edge, in a way that only an expert like Lestrange could have noticed.

Snape nodded.

\"It took me a while to understand the problem,\" Rodolphus explained. \"She\'s an Indonesian flower. The English water is too thin for her. It should be enriched with minerals. The magical composition of the water is also different. I have been able to produce an exact imitation of the air in those areas in which the plant usually grows – air pressure, magical combination, humidity, light-penetration – I have checked everything, it\'s the water\'s composition I forgot.\" Once again, Lestrange reached through the livid, moist bubble of magic, which was encasing the flower, and caressed its petals.

Snape arched an eyebrow. \"Producing an accurate water combination for a magical plant is indeed a Potions Master\'s job, but you do not require a Potions Master\'s service in order to prepare your water for you, Lestrange.\"

Rodolphus\'s clear, pale blue eyes were fixed on Snape in an instant. \"I would like it to be perfect,\" he said in a flat tone, \"that is why you will have to encase the fluid you will prepare very, very carefully. You would use a sealed, weightless glass container, magically sterilized and self-vacuumed to ensure the purity of the said fluid. The container would be carried by an ordinary post-owl, sent from the Hogsmeade Owlery by one of the Hogwarts\' staff or students. I shall expect it on the next couple of weeks. Is that clear, Severus?\" All this time, Lestrange\'s eyes didn’t leave Snape\'s for even the slightest second.
cou could feel the blood draining from his face. There was only one thing he wanted to know – perhaps only for the sheer knowledge that wishing to understand this part of his story was an integral part of the narrative of Severus Snape\'s life. \"Why?\"

Rodolphus sucked on his inner cheeks, brow furrowing. \"You see, Severus. You have always treated my black orchid kindly, and for that I should thank you. I know she isn\'t always easy. You are one of my very few friends: your wit and intellect I have enjoyed and admired over the years-,\" there he halted for a moment, apparently contemplating his next few words. \"Perhaps,\" Lestrange finished, \"I simply wish to purchase my Bella a better place in hell.\"

Snape nodded. \"Please deliver your wife my best regards. Seeing that I won\'t be able to meet her at the forthcoming gathering.\"

\"I shall,\" Lestrange promised. \"Now go. And don\'t forget the adapted water for my Phalaenopsis Gigantean.\"

* The chapter\'s title it taken from Dylan Thomas\'s poem \"Clown in the Moon\".

* \"Let\'s not unman each other part at once; all farewells should be sudden when forever.\" Lord Byron.

* Snape calling Anna his host at the \'Mermaid\', as well as claiming he never tippled a finer drink than her Canary wine, are references to Keats\'s poem, \"The Mermaid Tavern\".

* Aubrey\'s description of the Dark Mark is borrowed from the HP Lexicon.