A Song for Severus ~ (Not Update, but Edit)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 9 ~ Set in Motion

Draco and Malina were walking about the manor, the wizard showing her the wonderful artwork his family had collected over the years. He had to place silencing spells on all of the portraits before he walked Malina through. Somehow they had the uncanny ability to discern she was a muggle-born, and were quite vocal in their opinions concerning his choice of paramour. Though to Draco, Malina was much more than that.

Like his father, Draco seemed to have a preference for tall, slender witches like his mother. But Malina was dark-haired, dark-eyed and had a rather temperamental nature. Part of his attraction to Malina was that the witch was hard to peg down. He never knew what would come out of her mouth or what she would do.

Malina had hexed him on several occasions because of arguments or because she wanted to escape him before he wanted her to leave. If Draco had his way, she would stay at the manor with him the entire time he was home. Of course he found her when she bolted. It was almost like a game between them…the hunt for her was the beginning of their foreplay. A part of Malina wanted to leave Draco alone, but it was a very small part…the part that pined for him when he was away, the part that ached, the dramatic, artist part that wrote the sad, sad, songs. Draco was in effect, Malian’s muse.

But the larger part of the witch was overjoyed when he returned, but Malina was so proud that she found it hard to admit the sight of the wizard made her heart pound. His touch was as compelling to her as the Imperious spell. The mystery surrounding him, like a drug. Draco was no ordinary wizard, and no matter how long he was gone, Malina was inwardly happy at his return.

When the large phoenix feather flashed in over their heads and floated down into Draco’s hands, Malina’s black eyes went wide.

“I know what that is…that is an Order summons,” she said, staring at Draco.

This was another piece of the puzzle.

“You work for the Order? A pureblood?” she asked to Draco, who looked quite upset. His gray eyes rested on her.

“I’m going to have to go, Malina,” Draco said, remorse heavy in his voice. He didn’t answer her question. The answer was obvious. He began to walk her to the front door of the manor quickly.

“You’ve been called in by Albus Dumbledore,” Malina replied, respect in her eyes as she walked beside the tall, blonde wizard.

Draco still didn’t answer her, but his jaw was very tight. It was easy to see he was displeased. He had only just come home.

She hadn’t known Draco’s disappearances were connected to the Order of the Phoenix. There had been quite a few write-ups about them in the newspapers, and they way they were summoned came out long ago. She studied the wizard and saw the look in his eyes.

He didn’t want to go. Whatever his duty was, it was clear he wanted to shirk it…but couldn’t.

“You have no idea what you’re going to do, do you Draco?” she asked him softly. “You never know. That’s why you disappear so suddenly without telling me. You never know what you’re walking into, do you?”

Draco looked at her.

“No,” he said, “But Malina, please, don’t make me hunt for you for weeks when I return. That’s time wasted. Time I can be with you. Stay put this time. Please.”

They stopped in front of the double doors and Draco pulled Malina into his arms, kissing her deeply and hungrily, as if he were trying to suck a part of her into himself to carry with him. Malina couldn’t help but feel his need for her, his desire to stay. He broke the kiss.

“I keep you in my heart every time you walk away from me,” Draco said softly, “You help me stay together, Malina…knowing you are out here, knowing I have your arms to return to. Don’t give up on me. I won’t always be involved in this madness. One day I’ll be free to coerce you into becoming Lady Malfoy.”

Malina looked at Draco, shocked. Marriage? She had never even thought about getting married. She thought she was too free spirited for such a commitment.

“Lady Malfoy?” she breathed at him.

“Yes. I love you Malina. I have told you that over and over. I want you for my wife one day. You’re beautiful, talented, tough and a bit dangerous. Just the kind of witch I need to keep me in line and…interested,” the blonde wizard said with a smile. Gods, Draco was so handsome. He meant every word he said.

“I…I don’t know what to say, Draco,” Malina replied as he walked her through the doors. They stood on the stone landing facing each other.

“Then don’t say anything. But keep that in your heart while I’m gone…the knowledge of how important you are to me. I don’t know if it will help keep you loving me, Malina, but I hope it will make some small difference in whether you ultimately stay or go,” Draco said, kissing her again, softer this time.

Malina stepped back, drinking in the wizard for a moment.

“Goodbye Draco. I’ll see you…when I see you,” she said to him, then disapparated.

Draco stood there for several seconds, then looked down at the phoenix feather he clutched in one hand with a frown.

“Damn it, Dumbledore…what the fuck do you want with me now?” he hissed.

Draco spun on his heel and walked by inside the manor.

He had to see the Headmaster.

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”They want to what?” Draco said, rising out of the armchair and looking at the Headmaster in disbelief.

“They want to create a new Dark Lord,” Albus said, “Rosier asked Severus to prepare the elixir to transform the strongest wizard into…into what Voldemort was.”

Draco clapped his hand over his face. Would this madness never end?

“We need you to get close to Rosier. When Bella hears about this, no doubt her hand will be forced. There most probably will be some kind of confrontation first. Since we know of no one else who was involved in making this decision, Rosier is our first choice. We need him to let you know if Bella has come forward,” Albus said to the wizard. “So the first order of business is for you to go down to Rosier’s jewelry store and make a purchase. Something expensive.”

Draco sat back down and considered what Albus told him. The one bright aspect of this mess was that Bella could bring the child out into the open and they could get him and shut down the Death Eaters once and for all.

“Secondly, we need to know how the selection process is going. We expect the dueling will be witnessed by all who care to attend. I want to know who is vying to become the next Dark Lord. I only hope that Fenrir is not involved. The werewolf is a very accomplished and dangerous wizard. If he became the new Dark Lord, Voldemort’s reign will look like a tea party in comparison,” Albus stated, his blue eyes going dark at the thought.

”Is Professor Snape actually going to create the elixir?” Draco asked.

“Yes, he is,” Albus replied, “Though he will not administer it unless he absolutely has to. He will have two flasks. One with the true elixir and one without. Which he uses will depend on the situation. It will be his call.”

Draco doubted the Potions Master would give anyone the elixir if he could help it. The wizard knew first hand what service to the Dark Lord meant. It would most likely cause the cycle of torture to begin again. Draco believed Severus would rather die than be subjected to that kind of treatment again.

Albus’ eyes rested on Draco. He could see the dissatisfaction on the wizard’s face.

“Draco, I know it seems unfair to call you back to service when you’ve just returned, but surely you can see the importance of it?” Albus said to him.

Draco nodded.

“When I joined the Order and became a spy, the Professor told me what to expect. That my life wouldn’t be my own any longer. How did he put it? ‘The wizarding world would be my mistress.’ He wasn’t wrong about that. I’ll just be glad when we can find this child and stop the remaining Death Eaters once and for all. I’m ready for a normal life, Headmaster,” Draco said.

If Draco had not witnessed so many revels, he might have been more inclined to be a Playwizard. But he didn’t want to “experiment.” He wanted one witch of his own, and believed he had found her in Malina.

Albus nodded.

“Hopefully, Draco…we are coming to the pinnacle of this situation. We all would like to live a ‘normal’ life. I’ve been fighting this kind of evil for decades. I would like to be able to just enjoy my remaining years in peace as well. Let us hope we are successful in heading off this new threat,” he said.

Draco sat there, planning his next move.

He had to get close to Rosier.

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”He’s agreed to recreate the elixir?” Elizabeth asked Devon excitedly.

Fenrir’s eyes glittered as he listened to the jeweler tell about his conversation with Severus. So, the plan was in motion now. There would be a new Dark Lord.

“It should be ready in about a month. It’s time to let everyone know our plans to regroup under one leader again,” Devon said. “Word of mouth will be just fine. By tomorrow, every Death Eater will know.”

”I wonder how many will be willing to fight for the position?” Elizabeth said musingly. She hoped not many. She had decided to try for the position herself, despite the possibility of death.

“Add me to the list right now, Devon,” Fenrir growled from his seat in the corner of the room. The flickering torchlight and shadow made the huge wizard look even more sinister than normal. His matted gray hair and whiskers gave him a wolfish look even though he wasn’t transformed.

Both Elizabeth and Devon looked at the werewolf. They couldn’t exclude him, though the gods knew what terrors he would loose on the wizarding world if he became the next Dark Lord.

“Consider yourself on the list, Fenrir,” Devon said.

Fenrir gave Elizabeth a nasty grin, every pointed tooth showing.

“Still going for the gold, Elizabeth?” he asked her, his eyes narrowed.

Elizabeth looked at him defiantly. .

“Add me to the list too, Devon,” she said, not taking her eyes off Fenrir, “I’ve got a dog to put to sleep.”

Fenrir snarled and leapt to his feet, drawing his wand, but Elizabeth matched him speed for speed, her own wand trained directly between the wizard’s yellow eyes.

Devon stood up and moved between the pair. The tension was palpable.

“Stop it…both of you. If either one of you attacks the other, you will both be disqualified. We have to do this in an orderly manner. In an arena. Now sit down, Fenrir! Elizabeth!” Devon hissed at them.

Slowly both Death Eaters returned to their seats.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, Elizabeth,” Fenrir growled, “Hopefully it will be a very physical death. I want to see the light go out of your eyes as I strangle you with my bare hands.”

Elizabeth’s face contorted with hatred.

“I’m going to neuter you first,” she spat back at him, “then stuff your balls into your mouth before I shred you, you fucking animal.”

Devon sighed.

He didn’t know if these two would even make it to the arena. But…if they didn’t…the chances would be better for him to assume the throne…if he decided to compete for the position. Devon wasn’t crazy about the idea of dying, but all that power…and the longevity. Magical folk could live up to two hundred years if they took care of themselves, but supposedly the elixir extended one’s lifespan by at least a century. The idea of staving off death that long appealed to Devon, who didn’t like to think of his eventual demise. A trait he shared with Tom Riddle. He looked at the two Death Eaters sitting across from each other, hatred almost dripping from their ears.

“I’ve got to get back to my shop,” Devon said, rising. “I suggest you two be on your way before I go. I don’t want to return here and find a couple of corpses.”

This little private meeting area was located far below the jewelry shop. Only a few Death Eaters knew about it.

”There would only be one corpse,” both Elizabeth and Fenrir said together.

“Be that as it may, I still don’t want to have to clean it up. Off you go,” Devon said, eyeing the both of them.

Fenrir stood up.

“See you soon, bitch,” he said to Elizabeth, then disapparating.

“Gods, I hate him,” Elizabeth seethed, disapparating also.

Devon warded the room securely so no one could apparate there while he was gone, then push a stone in the wall, revealing a secret door that opened on a long stairwell. He walked through and closed it behind him.

“Just one big, happy family,” he snorted as he mounted the stairs.

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Elizabeth Yaxley lived in the country. She was a rich woman and somewhat reclusive. She had a nice little farmhouse and kept chickens, a few pigs and a cow, which she cared for just to have something to do. But her life was supremely dull except for the revels. It had been much better when Voldemort was alive and giving them missions. She would prefer there was another Dark Lord and something to work towards. It would give her life…meaning

Elizabeth kept her home securely warded, but was more than a match for most when it came to dueling. Her magical skills were exemplary, and she could defend herself viciously. After the meeting with Devon and Fenrir she apparated home, did her few little chores and then retired to her parlor to read and listen to the wizarding wireless as she did every night.

The blonde witch was relaxed, sitting back in her cushy armchair, feet up on the ottoman, her blue eyes half-closed as she sipped a glass of red wine and listened to the classical station. Her wand rested on a small table beside the chair and she was in her nightgown and housecoat.

Suddenly, every light in the parlor went out and the wizarding wireless shut off. Elizabeth started out of her near stupor and quickly felt for her wand on the table.

It wasn’t there.

“Shit,” she thought, easing out of her chair quietly. What the fuck had happened?

Then she heard a noise in the corner of the room.

“Who’s there?” she called, taking a defensive stance. Elizabeth was a deadly fighter too. It was required by Voldemort that every Death Eater to be trained in the martial arts.

No one answered, but Elizabeth knew she wasn’t alone.

Elizabeth slowly backed up until she felt the wall against her back.

“I have a weapon!” she called out, “A dagger. I know how to use it!”

Still no answer.

Slowly Elizabeth began to ease toward the floo, cursing herself for not lighting it earlier. There were a number of pokers in a holder next to it, all with sharp points. If she could just get hold of one of them…

“You won’t make it to the fireplace,” a voice growled in the darkness.

The hairs on the back of Elizabeth’s neck stood up.

Fenrir.

He had disapparated to her home directly from Devon’s secret room and hidden himself, watching as the witch unwarded her house and let herself in. After a few minutes, Elizabeth came back outside and walked over to the barn to look in on her animals.

The witch didn’t ward the house, and the werewolf slipped in. He had been inside for hours, just watching her…anticipating the moment he would surprise her. Getting her wand had been no problem. Fenrir could move with the silence and stealth of a wolf after all. He simply picked it up as she was relaxing with her eyes closed.

“I have two choices, witch. To rape you…or kill you. I’m inclined to do both,” the werewolf said, moving to the right quickly and silently so Elizabeth would be disoriented when he spoke again. He could see her clearly because of his werewolf blood.

“I’d rather you just killed me then, Fenrir. It figures you would steal my wand you fucking coward,” Elizabeth hissed. Suddenly she made a run for the fireplace.

Fenrir lunged forward, hitting the witch with his full weight and slamming her into the wall. Dazed and in pain, Elizabeth felt the wizard’s large hands encircle her throat and start to squeeze.

“Not talking so much shit now, eh witch?” he snarled.

Then he adjusted his hold on Elizabeth’s throat and with one hand, pulled out his wand and removed the dampening spell he placed on the room. The torches relit and the wizarding wireless began to play again. He dropped the wand on the floor and pressed his whiskery face close to hers.

”Killing you now would be very satisfying,” he said in a low voice.

Elizabeth wanted to gag. His breath smelled like old blood.

“But Devon would suspect, and even if I disposed of your body…I might still be disqualified from participating in the dueling,” the werewolf breathed, his eyes hard. “But on a brighter note, if you came after me for any reason…you would be disqualified…so…rape it is.”

Fenrir tugged at the sash of Elizabeth’s housecoat, and the witch began to struggle desperately. She tried to take him down by hooking her leg behind his and pushing him backwards, but Fenrir widened his stance, punched her in the side of the head, then shook her viciously.

“Go ahead…make it worse, Elizabeth,” he hissed as she buckled. That blow had been hard, making the witch see stars. A bruise formed from her left temple to below her eye. She was no match for the werewolf in a physical fight. He was simply too strong due to his nature.

“Nice color,” Fenrir said about the bruising before resuming his attack on her sash.

He opened her housecoat, then yanked it off one shoulder, then the other, pulling the sleeves halfway down her arms. He grasped a breast and squeezed it hard, Elizabeth crying out from the pain.

“Yesss,” he snarled at her, grasping the front of her nightgown and ripping it, exposing her breasts and belly. Elizabeth screamed in horror and revulsion as he gripped her bare breast.

Fenrir smiled, but it was more of a baring of teeth than a true human smile.

“I’m going to give you a reason to neuter me, bitch,” he said, slapping Elizabeth hard and flinging her to the floor.

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A/N: My, that took a dark turn, didn’t it? There won’t be any details about what Fenrir does to Elizabeth, but I imagine it will be painful and humiliating. It is highly unlikely she will report him to the authorities, considering their situation. More than likely she will be more determined to kill him when they face off. I wanted to make Fenrir into Evil Incarnate here, and since I was shuddering as I wrote this scene…I think I’ve succeeded. Thanks for reading.