The Burning Pen

Through the Looking Glass
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 61

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
**************************************

Chapter 61 ~ Off to the Party

Snape stood at the window of his apartment, scowling down at the road below. He was wearing dress robes and waiting for Potter to arrive and usher him to his “bachelor” party. He could only imagine how inane it would be, no doubt peppered with former students, strippers, alcohol and tasteless Blue Pensieves. A juvenile affair at best. Hopefully, they would all get shit-faced and he’d be able to escape long before sunrise.

Hermione’s wedding shower had been quite interesting, judging by all the gifts she brought home. Snape commented that it seemed her girlfriends were thinking more of him than of her as he eyed the sexy garments and toys with flared nostrils. To his disappointment, Hermione put them all away, stating they were supposed to be utilized AFTER they were married.

Snape couldn’t wait. Hermione had cut him off until they were officially married. Of course, being a man, Snape couldn’t understand her reasoning. Sex would be just as enjoyable on the wedding night as it usually was. It wasn’t quantity that mattered, but quality. The dark wizard always made sure it was quality. But Hermione wouldn’t budge on it.

”It will be sweeter if we wait,” she told him softly, ignoring his snort of disagreement.

Snape wasn’t sure about that. Sexual depravation, sexy garments, fluffy handcuffs and riding crops did not seem conducive to “sweet” sex. Good sex? Yes. Dirty sex? Yes. But sweet sex?

That would definitely be a matter of perspective.

Snape continued to look down into the street, his pale hands clasped behind his back, his hair shining and silky. Hermione wanted him to look like he made an effort to be presentable, and had inspected him before leaving him to his night. She was quite excited for him.

”Just enjoy yourself, Severus. Everything Harry has arranged is with you in mind. Be civil if you can’t be nice,” she chided him, before kissing him. “Promise me.”

Snape muttered something under his breath. It might have been a promise, but it might not have been. Hermione took it as if he had agreed. She was still an optimistic Gryffindor at heart.

Suddenly, Snape heard the sound of hoof beats. A gleaming black carriage drawn by four black horses and driven by a wizard in a top hat stopped in front of the shop. The door opened and Harry Potter got out and knocked on the shop door.

”Here goes nothing,” the Potions master said under his breath, then he descended the stairs into the shop proper, and with a reflexive sneer, pulled the door open to greet his host.

Harry was just as tall as Snape was now, and smiled at him, his green eyes excited behind his glasses as he stuck out his hand to the wizard.

”Good evening, Professor Snape,” he said enthusiastically.

Snape eyed his outstretched hand for a moment, then pictured Hermione scowling at him before he firmly grasped Harry’s hand and pumped it stiffly.

”Mr. Potter,” he said shortly.

”You don’t have to be so formal, professor. You can call me Harry,” Harry said.

He could call him a lot of things, Harry being the least of them.

”Harry,” Snape repeated, feeling a bit nauseous at accepting the first name basis. “But, you will continue to address me formally. I prefer it.”

”Of course, sir,” Harry said, walking to the carriage and opening the door for the wizard. “Your carriage awaits.”

Snape stood there, looking at the horses. There was something different about them.

”What kind of horses are these?” the dark wizard asked.

”Oh. Wind horses. They’re very fast,” Harry replied, closing the door and walking up to the horses, Snape following.

”It’s the legs,” Harry said, pointing.

Snape blinked. He could see when the horses shifted slightly, they had two sets of legs, eight in all. He looked up at the driver, who seemed to be an Asian. The man nodded at Snape, who once more looked at the horses.

”Are you ready to go, professor?” Harry asked. He was on a schedule.

Snape didn’t say anything but followed Harry back to the carriage itself and entered when the boy who lived held open the door.

The carriage was tastefully done in leather, velvet and wood. Snape sat down and Harry sat opposite him. The driver let out a whistle and away they flew. There was very little motion inside the carriage.

”It’s going to take a little time to reach the castle, Professor. Would you like a drink? I have Ogden’s Firewhiskey.”

Snape nodded. He could use a drink. Harry went into a small liquor cabinet recessed in the wall and took out a tumbler and a very old bottle of unopened Firewhiskey and handed it to Snape for his perusal. Hm. Bottled in 1826.

Snape’s black eyes darted to Harry, then back to the bottle. Obviously, the young wizard had spared no expense.

”A good year,” Snape said.

”Yes, sir,” Harry replied with a small smile. Snape liked it. Good.

As Snape poured himself a drink, Harry subtly flicked his wand and music began to play. It was Vivaldi. Snape loved Vivaldi. The wizard took a sip of the Firewhiskey and eyed it appreciatively before settling back and relaxing, Harry watching him as he closed his eyes, listening to his favorite composer.

This was rather nice.

Hermione warned Harry not to try and make too much conversation with her fiancé. She confided that the only reason he even agreed to go to the bachelor party was to please her. Harry had been surprised at this. Snape seemed to be such a selfish wizard. Well, obviously not when it came to Hermione. Harry was glad about that. It seemed Snape really cared about her feelings.

Harry let Snape enjoy the music and Firewhiskey for a while, then cautiously pulled a little black box with a green and silver bow out of his pocket. He cleared his throat and Snape opened his eyes, narrowing them at him.

”Um, professor, I have a little gift for you—for the occasion. It’s not much, but I wanted to give you something in celebration,” he said haltingly.

Snape’s nose wrinkled up as he looked at the wrapped box. A gift? Harry extended his hand, his green eyes a bit worried. Would Snape take it?

Snape looked at Harry, then reached out and took the gift, pulling the ribbon from around it and lifting the lid. He stared down at the small vial filled with shining liquid that looked like molten gold. He looked up at Harry sharply.

“It’s—it’s a vial of Felix Felicis,” Harry said, blinking at the wizard.

Snape picked up the vial and opened it. Immediately, small droplets of the potion began leaping out of the vial and falling back into it in a beautiful display. Felix Felicis had been banned completely in the wizarding world and brewing it could land a fellow squarely in Azkaban for a year or two. Even asking for it meant incarceration.

”Where did you get this?” Snape hissed at him. Obviously, it was brewed perfectly.

Harry reddened.

”I—I brewed it myself,” Harry told him, “I used a Pensieve to get it right, but it still took a couple of tries. It works. I tried a bit of it myself before bottling it.”

Snape recapped the vial and put it back in the box. He put the box in the pocket of his dress robes, then eyed Harry.

”I take it you believe I’m in need of luck,” the dark wizard said to him, arching an eyebrow.

”Well, everyone needs a leg up now and then,” Harry replied.

”It’s an illegal potion, Mr. P—Harry,” Snape said, correcting himself in his address. “You could be sent to Azkaban should I reveal you gave this to me.”

Harry gave him a wide-eyed look. Would Snape turn him in for giving him a gift?

”However, I’m sure Hermione, as law-abiding as she pretends to be, wouldn’t appreciate my whistle blowing,” Snape added, his face twisting up a bit as he imagined Hermione calling off the wedding. “So, I accept your gift—under duress.”

”Thank you, sir,” Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief.

”Thank my wife-to-be,” Snape replied, sitting back and closing his eyes.

They rode in silence for the rest of the way to the castle, Snape listening to Vivaldi and enjoying two more Firewhiskeys and Harry thanking his lucky stars that someone had finally managed to rein in Snape’s nastiness.

Despite him marrying Hermione, it was clear Snape was still one onerous bastard.

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

Castle Drummings sat high on a hill overlooking a dismal moor. The structure was made of grey-black stone and triangular. Two towers topped with bell shaped domes towered above it, and dark, blood-like stains of rust and dirt spread across the walls from the gutters. Torches spluttered on the outside and cut into the glistening stone were leaded windows through which one could see heavy curtains pulled tightly closed. A feeling of menace and danger permeated the grounds. Harry had chosen this castle because he felt Snape would feel right at home with the bleak, dark atmosphere.

The coach pulled up to the wide entrance. Two other black coaches were parked outside, and there was a rack that held a number of brooms. A young wizard dressed in a waistcoat stood nearby, guarding the vehicles, and he hurried up to the coach and opened the door.

”Good evening, Mr. Potter and Mr. Snape. Welcome to castle Drummings,” the young man said with a bow as Harry and Snape exited the coach. “You’re expected.”

”Thanks,” Harry said to the young wizard, then looked at Snape who was eyeing the coaches and brooms. Who was attending this party? There were at least ten brooms and the coaches were of good quality.

”Come on, professor,” Harry said, looking excited.

Snape followed Harry into the castle proper. It was dimly lit and spooky, sporting bare walls and cavernous halls. Widely spaced torches spluttered, creating eerie shadows on the stone walls. They seemed to dance with a life of their own, hovering over the passing wizards. Harry flinched a couple of times, Snape smirking at him from behind. It seemed Harry had chosen a venue that spooked even him.

Snape thought it was rather—thoughtful. He had assumed Harry had chosen something more party-like and unsuitable. Obviously, the young wizard had at least some grasp of the surroundings he would prefer.

“Harry, who are my guests?” Snape inquired.

”Oh, just a few people,” Harry replied evasively.

”I imagine all former students,” Snape said with a sneer.

”Some, not all,” Harry replied.

Now Snape was curious as they came to an ill-lit and narrow stairwell, leading down into the castle depths.

”The dungeons?” the wizard asked as they descended the stone stairs, avoiding the cobwebs.

”Yeah,” Harry said. “We thought you’d prefer the atmosphere.”

They reached the lower levels. The walls were close and again widely spaced, spluttering torches lit their way. They passed by a number of heavy wooden doors with bars on them, walking deeper into the dungeon area. The air was moist and cool, reminiscent of the dungeons of Hogwarts, but even danker and less inviting.

Finally, Harry stopped in front of a large wooden door.

”Here we are, professor,” he said, pushing it open. It creaked horribly. Snape followed him in. It was a bit brighter here, and tables draped in black cloth stood against the wall, covered with platters of food and bottles of drink. But the large stone room was only half lit, the other part bathed in darkness. More Vivaldi was softly playing in the background.

A large throne-like chair was pushed against the wall, facing the darkness, a small table next to it. Apparently, that was where Snape would sit during the festivities.

Neville Longbottom, Ronald Weasley, Dean Thomas, and Fred and George Weasley were standing by the liquor table, drinking. Hagrid and Flitwick were sampling tidbits of food from the table. Everyone looked up when Harry and Snape entered, the Gryffindors paling and putting their cups down almost guiltily. Both Hagrid and Flitwick grinned broadly at the dark wizard, who narrowed his eyes.

Good Grindelows, it was Hogwarts all over again. And things were looking so promising.

Hagrid and Flitwick approached Snape first.

”Hiya perfessor!” Hagrid said, patting Snape on the back and making him stumble forward a few paces. “Congrats! Great little witch yer got thar!”

”Thank you,” Snape said tightly.

Flitwick scuttled up next.

”Congratulations, Severus,” the little wizard squeaked. “All the best to you!”

Snape nodded as the Gryffindors hurried up to give their congratulations. .

”Congratulations, professor Snape,” the young wizards all said, falling over each other in a nervous effort to shake the wizard’s hand. Snape said nothing as his former students greeted him. Fred pressed a drink into his hand.

”Yes, congratulations, Severus,” a familiar voice purred from the darkness. Suddenly, torches flared and who that voice belonged to, was revealed.

”Lucius,” Snape breathed as the blonde wizard bowed exaggeratedly.

”Not only Lucius,” the pureblood purred, “but a few other associates.”

Suddenly, several wizards in full Death Eater garb appeared behind Lucius.

”Your former brethren wouldn’t miss your send off into married bliss for a bevy of bound Muggle women,” Lucius said with a leer.

Lucius proceeded to introduce Snape’s guests.

”Amycus Carrow, Joseph Crabbe, Antionin Dolohov, Fredrick Goyle, Walden MacNair, Hephestus Nott, Augustus Rookwood, Thorfin Rowle, and Cronin Yaxley.”

The Death Eaters each removed their masks as their names were announced, grinning lasciviously at the Potions master, who blinked at them in disbelief. Harry had invited these people? Was he insane?

All the Gryffindors looked rather terrified, including Harry. Lord Malfoy had invited former Death Eaters?

”Bloody hell, Harry,” Ron whispered as they stared at the other guests. “What the fuck were you thinking? We’re surrounded by Death Eaters.”

”Former Death Eaters,” Harry whispered back as they all approached Snape, tucking their masks into their pockets. A few had been released from prison on the grounds that they had been controlled by Voldemort and it couldn’t be proven that they’d actually killed anyone.

”Well, what did you expect, Ron? Death Eaters are who Snape hung out with, after all?” Fred whispered, his eyes narrowed.

One after the other the Death Eaters shook Snape’s hand or patted him on the back. Snape took a large swallow of the Firewhiskey in his hand, then looked at Harry.

”I have you to thank for this, don’t I?” he hissed as the Death Eaters headed straight for the liquor table, ready to get their groove on.

“I didn’t want it to be all students and staff, professor,” Harry said, “so I asked Lord Malfoy if he knew anyone who’d like to come.”

Snape sighed. Harry had just been trying to equalize the guest list. Well, he’d managed to do it, all right.

”Severus, do take your throne,” Lucius said, walking up to him with a smile. “It’s time for me to introduce the ‘entertainment.’ I’m sure you’ll find it quite delicious.”

Snape stared at Lucius.

”As long as it isn’t a bevy of bound Muggle women, Lucius,” he replied tightly.

Both of Lucius’ aristocratic eyebrows rose in surprise.

”Of course not, Severus. That would be against the law. But—it’s the next best thing,” he purred. “Believe me.”

******************************
A/N: Finally, another chapter out. Thanks for your patience and for reading.

PLEASE REVIEW "Through the Looking Glass." >>> NEXT CHAPTER

STORY INDEX

Number of Visits: