Perhaps Another Time, Severus [A Severus Snape Fanfiction]

2000

2000

Malfoy Manor was even more intimidating from the inside, the furniture alone worth more money than Shaylah would ever see. She masked her shock as Lucius Malfoy approached the two of them and Severus kept a hand on the small of her back, just to remind her that he was there, that she wasn't doing this alone. He had been planning this meeting for weeks, building her up as an asset in their eyes. Though they had practiced every detail, building her Death Eater persona bit by bit, her stomach was in knots.

Lucius offered his hand and Shaylah made to shake it, but he caught her off guard by gently wrapping her hand in his, placing a soft kiss on the back of her palm. If he hadn't been bowing slightly, he might have caught the twitch in her eye as Cross' bloody body flashed across her mind, and she felt the sticky blood on her hand beneath his grimy touch. This man had murdered her friend, sent him back to them lacerated and hemorrhaging. Yet he held her hand in his as if it had never caused harm, as if they weren't stained with the lives he had taken. Thankfully she was able to keep her face neutral thanks to the training Severus had painstaking assisted her with. Severus was stiff at her side, his face betraying the unease she felt roiling off of him. In fact, he looked as if nothing were the matter, as if they weren't mice that had scurried into the snake's den, as if he didn't want to sever Lucius' hand from his wrist.

Lucius straightened, met by the sweet smile she had plastered across her face, "I've heard much about you, Sharon. Seems you've made quite a deep impression on Severus which is no small feat." She still hadn't fully settled into the name, but it was an alias she could get used to.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Lucius, I've heard a great deal about you as well."

"Yes, well, join us, please," he said, gesturing toward the large room she had once watched them congregate in through the window. The ornate table would have sat at least twenty people, but only eight took seats around it. Narcissa, Draco and Lucius Malfoy, Severus, Shaylah, Voldemort, Barty Jr. and Greyback. She was surrounded by the Dark Lord's inner circle and yet she had to play the part, the slightest expression out of place would sabotage everything they had been working so painstakingly toward. Severus sat to Voldemort's right and Shaylah next to him, the hair on her neck rose as Barty Junior slid into the seat beside her, his arm brushing hers.

"Sharon," began Voldemort, his arms spread wide, "our newest recruit! I hear Severus thinks you will be a great asset, not just to us but to him as well." His snakelike eyes met hers, and she forced a smile to cover the grimace that threatened to slide across her face. How did Severus keep himself so composed?

"Yes sir, I'm grateful to be here." Her voice was that of someone seizing an opportunity, all too anxious to join their cause, and she laced her fingers together in front of her on the table much like Severus had.

The proceedings were uninteresting, with Severus being the main focus of Voldemort's attention. Shaylah examined the many portraits that adorned the room as she listened, the beautiful embellishments on the walls. It was hard to believe that at one point in time, the Malfoys had to have been a normal family, before their home became the focal point of the wrong side of the war.

She watched Draco look everywhere but at Voldemort, the boy flinching when he was called on to join the conversation. Shaylah felt they would both rather be anywhere else. Barty Jr. rattled on about the Order and his knowledge of their Headquarters. He was undeniably wrong, but no one at the table was going to correct him. Severus did inform them of Travis' death, giving credit to one of the few who survived the ordeal and now sat in Azkaban. Seemed Voldemort didn't bother to learn the names of those at the bottom, or those in the Order, referring to them, instead, as scum.

"We should really break out the ones they have imprisoned," said Barty, leaning across the table to speak to his master, his tongue sliding over his lips.

"They really aren't worth the effort," countered Severus, "They shouldn't have allowed themselves to be captured."

Voldemort nodded, his snake gliding between his legs. "I agree with Severus, more will take their place. Let the Order keep Azkaban," he said waving a hand, "I don't intend to use it, I intend for them all to be killed," he finished, slamming a fist onto the table. A grin slashed across his face, serpent eyes flicking to each of them until they all erupted in forced laughter.

"I'd love to watch that woman bleed," spat Barty, "I bet her screams are the sweetest."

Voldemort steepled his fingers, "What woman? The leader?"

Grayback growled, "She's by far the worst of them. Somehow she's one step ahead, and her sidekick, that brawny bastard–"

"What's her name," mused Voldemort, a finger to his chin.

"Shaylah, My Lord," said Severus.

"That's the one," sneered Barty, "That bloody fucking bitch." Shaylah kept her mouth shut, her back straight. She knew what this meeting might hold, knew that she and her associates might be slandered, but it still curdled her stomach to hear Severus crush her name between his teeth. To know that those around her were the reason many of her friends were dead.

They knew her face, of course, but Severus had gone to great lengths to create a potion that would change her appearance. Not in the way a Polyjuice Potion changed someone into someone else, but carefully brewed to exaggerate or change her own. She had taken it several times now during the times they had been preparing, to get used to herself in the body they had so carefully cultivated. Golden hair had turned to brown, her narrow nose rounded and elongated, even her eyes had gone from blue to green. Her body remained the same, though she kept her shoulders hunched, making herself appear shorter. So far the effects had lasted six hours before wearing off.

"Worry not, Barty," said Voldemort, "When you find them, feel free to tear them apart. Soon, there will be no resistance and our droves will spill into the Muggle world. Nothing will stop us."

The meeting depleted any energy Shaylah still had in her system. Being surrounded by the very people she had been out to kill was exhausting, and hearing the way they spoke of her–

Shaylah plopped onto the bed in their abandoned house, lying back. Severus followed, covering her body with his, his hips straddling her own. "Will you ever admit you were in that shack?" she asked.

His face was buried in the curve of her neck and she felt his cheeks puff into a smile. "I have never stepped foot in the aforementioned shack," he whispered into her skin.

She had long ago learned that Severus would only give her bits and pieces of information. He had never stepped foot in the shack, but there were windows and other ways to send a spell inside. He knew where she was going, he was the one who had given her the location. "You did well," he muttered, praising her as his hand gripped her waist, rolling both of them on their side.

She let out a heavy sigh, pulling him to her. "That was the hardest thing I have ever had to do."

His hand began to rub up and down her back, soothing the still tightly pulled knots in her gut. "I know love," he purred, placing a soft kiss on her temple, "I promise it will be worth it." The familiar feeling of her features shifting washed over her and Severus smirked, "There you are."

Shaylah trailed her hands up his throat, combing them through his hair. "Is it odd," she asked, "to see me as someone else?"

Severus gripped her thigh, pulling it over his hips, "I would recognize you in any form, no matter what skin you wore. In different times, different places, I would always know it was you."

She curled a piece of hair around her finger, pulling him toward her, claiming his lips. His fingers slipped beneath her shirt, pulling it over her head with deft hands, returning his lips to hers as he began to shed his own clothes. "I would always know it was you," he said, hands exploring every part of her before plunging inside. He bit into her shoulder, leaving behind his mark and she wrapped her legs around him, deepening everything. The groan that caressed her ears had her body twitching, dangling on the precipice as he gripped her by the throat, their eyes locking as he thrusted into her. Then she was falling, bucking as he came, his teeth latched onto her neck. I would always know.