The Sempra Deck 07 - The Chariot
Jul. 11th, 2011 04:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mimimanderly has just released the next card of The Sempra Deck, a set of Major Arcana cards forming the Tarot. Each time Mimi posts a new card, I will post another edition of the story, so you can see how the story and the cards meshed together. Here is the next card - 07 The Chariot, and here is the next chapter of the story.
This Chapter is rated R for content and language. Happy Reading!
The Sempra Deck is dedicated to the real mystic goddess Mimi Manderly; to her beloved SeverusMuse, and to my precious Dahlra. All characters with the exception of Mimi Manderley, Peter and Dahlra belong to JK Rowling. I make no money from this publication.
Chapter Four – Dovetailing, Part 2
Mimi slowly sat down beside him on the bed, and began to unbutton his coat. He sat, slumped, like a child, defeated. He knew. He knew she knew, and it shamed him.
“Severus – “
“Miss Man – Mimi,” he interrupted, breathing fast. “I’m very tired, and I would like you to go. Your presence gives me no comfort or consolation. It only…” He turned away. “Please leave me.”
Mimi looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. “No. Just because you can’t take comfort in my company doesn’t mean I don’t take comfort in yours. You’re hurt, and you’ve got something on your mind that has to do with me, and I’m not going.”
His mouth compressed into its familiar, thin line. “So you can now add clairvoyance to your list of abilities, Mimi?” He raised his chin defiantly. Something like the old silkiness returned to his tone. “What makes you so certain you know what is on my mind?”
Mimi sighed. “Let’s not play games, Severus. That’s a Slytherin thing, and I’m not in the mood for it.” She began to unbutton his coat, and pushed him down on the bed. His eyes widened in surprise. “I’m here because you need me; well, you need someone to talk to. Dumbledore will only make sympathetic noises and tell you it’s all for the Greater Good; you can’t talk to anyone else because they won’t understand or sympathise.”
Severus watched her face carefully, as if looking for signs of insincerity. “Perhaps I don’t deserve sympathy. If you know my story as much as you claim to, you know why I believe this to be true.”
Mimi stopped undressing him. She placed her hand over his heart. “I know this was broken by a young, very immature girl that you loved. I don’t pretend to know her; I only know her through your eyes and your thoughts, but I can tell you that you are not the reason she is dead. That prophecy would have been found out regardless, and perhaps she wouldn’t have had the chance to put herself between Voldemort and Harry.”
Severus was breathing hard again, and he closed his eyes tightly; whether from grief or anger, Mimi wasn’t sure. She pressed on, “I know that Dumbledore has held this heart for ransom ever since. He has used you in every way, and even now, you are trying to prepare yourself to kill him, to take Draco’s place as the sacrificial lamb.”
Severus grabbed her forearms in a painful grip and shook her soundly. “Who. Are. You? Really? Tell me!”
Mimi forced herself to remain calm. “I've told you – “
He rose from the bed so quickly Mimi yelped in surprise. Fuck, she had no idea he could move so fast! He was gripping her arms so tightly they hurt, and for the first time in his presence, she was a little afraid of him.
“You know too much,” he hissed, his eyes blazing wildly. “What are you truly? You can’t be human!”
“Severus, you’re hurting me,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I’m just as human as you. I’m a Muggle from another lifetime. I don’t know how I got here, but you must believe me. It doesn’t matter that spells can’t affect me,” she said, looking into his eyes, willing him to believe. “But you can kill me. All you have to do, Severus, is break my heart.”
He released her and slumped back against the bed. Lying there, his hair scattered across his pillow, his shirt opened at the waist, barefooted, bathed in sweat and fear; Mimi had never seen anyone so beautiful.
For a moment, they merely gazed at one another. Severus licked his lips, and Mimi felt her stomach twist again. Finally, he said, “Mimi, the Dark Lord… he wants me to bring you to him.”
Mimi felt excited and terrified at once. “Fine. I’ll go with you. I’m going to make him leave you alone.”
Severus shook his head. “I won’t be able to help you. If you are harmed, I don’t think I could bear it.”
Mimi drew near to him. She smiled as she reached for the healing salve. “Now you know how I feel every time you return from him, tortured like this.”
As she gently applied the salve, he relaxed under her healing touch. “You have… kind hands,” he ground out, feeling like a fool and wishing he hadn’t said anything. She smiled down at him.
“I’m glad you feel that way, Severus. I promise you that I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Even to the point of keeping this from the Headmaster?”
She screwed the jar lid down with a hard twist of her wrist and grimaced. “I have no allegiance to Dumbledore, Severus. I despise how he’s used you all these years. I know what you must do in this time, and I will not stop you, but I see no reason to give him any more ammunition to use against you.”
As Mimi set the salve on the table, she noticed that this particular jar had writing on it. “Did you make this salve as well, Severus?”
“Yes, why?” His speech was slow and a little sleepy; he was already starting to drift off.
Mimi picked up the jar and studied it, her eyes growing wide and troubled. “Is this your handwriting?”
He made a rather charming little rumbling sound. He replied, “Whose else would it be?” Almost the moment the words were out of his mouth, he tried to grab the jar from her hands, but Mimi was already jumping from the bed, staring at the container.
Her hand started shaking, and the jar slipped from her fingers and fell onto the stone floor with a smash. She turned to the man lying on the bed. “It was your handwriting. On the cards, on the envelope; on the piece of paper. Sempra.”
She was gasping, almost hyperventilating. “It was you all the time,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “You created the Sempra deck. You brought me here from the future!”
It was Severus’ turn to placate her. “Mimi, I swear to you – “
“Oh, you swear, do you? You knew all along, and you didn’t tell me! How dare you pretend you knew nothing about the Sempra Deck?” Mimi’s eyes were like an icy pool; he could see and hear the frost and anger.
“I never said – “
Mimi held up her hand. “I know you didn’t. You never volunteered information, but that’s no excuse! Just because you don’t tell someone something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t!”
She turned away, breathing hard. “I’m not going to lose my temper and start shouting. I’m not to walk away and let you stew. I’m not going to go to Dumbledore either, because he knew as well, didn’t he?” Severus nodded slowly, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but there with her. Mimi returned his nod.
“What I am going to do, however, is sit here and let you sleep, because it’s plain that you are exhausted. And in the morning, you will explain yourself.” She held out her hand. “Do we have a deal, Severus?”
Severus looked at the tiny hand held out to him. She was telling him, with that small gesture, that she still trusted him enough to keep his word. Grimly, he took her hand, and it disappeared within his own large one. Rather grimly, he answered, “We have an accord, Mimi.”
Impulsively, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. Mimi stared at him, shocked, and he blessed the gods that he had been inspired to do it; it certainly put her off her guard.
“Thank you, Mimi, for giving me a chance to rest. The tale is, I’m afraid, one I will need all my strength to relate.”
As Severus lay on his bed, pretending to sleep, he stole a quick glance at Mimi. She sat in his most comfortable chair, idly thumbing through a recommended book, her dark hair fanning across her shoulders. Her legs were tucked up beneath her, and she looked as tiny as a woodland sprite, except no sprite had ever looked so dramatically dark and interesting. A goddess, he thought. My pocket goddess, he amended, with a mixture of longing and a certain frustration.
Severus had never been one who enjoyed indulging in self-pity, but these last years were the worst of his life, and sometimes he wondered how he continued to put one foot in front of the other.
Ever since Lily’s son had arrived at Hogwarts, his life had gone downhill. He was just a tool, used by all and sundry, to do their dirty work. He had been used, ridiculed, humiliated and thwarted for the past six years.
And that was nothing, compared to the night Albus called him into his study and shown him his blackened hand. It was rotting from Horcrux backlash so quickly it had almost drained Severus’ magic trying to slow it down. That had been bad enough, until Albus told him, almost gleefully, of his master plan for his gods damned Greater Good. Oh, and the coup de grace? Severus got to murder him.
It was too much. Dumbledore had ruthlessly used and abused him for a good one-third of Severus’ life, but this was a blow so bitter, he reeled from it even at this late date. It held too many factors for Severus to deal with; horror that he would be asked to take the life of an innocent, relief that at least one Master would no longer be around to lead him around by the nose, and a good, unhealthy measure of anger and hatred and regret and shame swilling around in the cauldron as well.
And there was the final, irrevocable knowledge that, once the deed was done, Severus was himself an outcast, a dead man. The Wizarding world would never, never forgive him for killing Dumbledore, no matter who defended him or how ardently his cause was pleaded.
He had returned to his rooms that night, and had given up. Only fear had prevented him from taking his own life. His love for Lily had withered and faded with the knowledge he was to become a cold-blooded killer at the time of his victim’s own choosing. It was too much. His sense of duty to keep Potter alive only to fulfill his destiny no longer mattered in the grim, bleak reality of Severus’ own destiny. Dumbledore had finally broken the tool.
Severus had lived a hopeless life, and would come to a pointless end, and would be forever hated. The name Severus Snape would be a blight on the face of Wizarding Britain. Parents would use his name as a warning to their errant children on the pitfalls of being naughty. Be a good boy, sonny, or you’ll end up like Severus Snape. As if any child on earth would be as gods forsaken as he.
Now, looking at Mimi, he realized how starved he was for simple understanding. How long had it been since anyone had given a shit enough to care about how he felt? He knew he pushed everyone away with his acerbic tongue and his prideful demeanor – who in his life had ever deemed him worthy of pushing back?
He felt a reluctant affection for her, and an unbidden desire that made him shuffle uncomfortably under the covers so that it would not make its presence known. What would it be like to lie with her? Would her sea-blue eyes glow with passion? Would she call his name as he moved in her?
There was a dormant part of him that now rose with the hunger of years-long hibernation, and he knew it would not be silenced with his own ministrations. He had told the truth when he confessed he’d never resorted to prostitutes, but he was starting to wonder if he should. Just to feel, to breathe, to feel flesh upon flesh once before he was sent to his own death.
No. He didn’t want sex with a stranger. He didn’t want a quick shag, a pity fuck. He wanted to make love to a woman whom he desired, and who desired him. Was that so much to ask? It was, it seemed, if you were Severus Snape.
He did not want to be a martyr, but that was his destiny. He looked at Mimi again, and surreptitiously adjusted his erection. He turned his back to her, and willed himself to calm by reciting the contents of the Potions cupboard. It was a handy way to discourage this sort of thing.
He mentally sighed. He had always tried to be honest with himself, even when he lied about everything else. In his secret heart, he wanted to see those sea-blue eyes glow beneath him. He wanted to kiss her mouth, which he imagined would taste of cinnamon and exotic spiced wine. He wanted to bury himself in her body and hear her throaty voice as he tore his name from her lips in the passion he had given her. He wanted Mimi. It did not, in light of recent circumstances, seem too much to ask.
mimimanderly has just released the next card of The Sempra Deck, a set of Major Arcana cards forming the Tarot. Each time Mimi posts a new card, I will post another edition of the story, so you can see how the story and the cards meshed together. Here is the next card - 07 The Chariot, and here is the next chapter of the story.
This Chapter is rated R for content and language. Happy Reading!
The Sempra Deck is dedicated to the real mystic goddess Mimi Manderly; to her beloved SeverusMuse, and to my precious Dahlra. All characters with the exception of Mimi Manderley, Peter and Dahlra belong to JK Rowling. I make no money from this publication.
Chapter Four – Dovetailing, Part 2
Mimi slowly sat down beside him on the bed, and began to unbutton his coat. He sat, slumped, like a child, defeated. He knew. He knew she knew, and it shamed him.
“Severus – “
“Miss Man – Mimi,” he interrupted, breathing fast. “I’m very tired, and I would like you to go. Your presence gives me no comfort or consolation. It only…” He turned away. “Please leave me.”
Mimi looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. “No. Just because you can’t take comfort in my company doesn’t mean I don’t take comfort in yours. You’re hurt, and you’ve got something on your mind that has to do with me, and I’m not going.”
His mouth compressed into its familiar, thin line. “So you can now add clairvoyance to your list of abilities, Mimi?” He raised his chin defiantly. Something like the old silkiness returned to his tone. “What makes you so certain you know what is on my mind?”
Mimi sighed. “Let’s not play games, Severus. That’s a Slytherin thing, and I’m not in the mood for it.” She began to unbutton his coat, and pushed him down on the bed. His eyes widened in surprise. “I’m here because you need me; well, you need someone to talk to. Dumbledore will only make sympathetic noises and tell you it’s all for the Greater Good; you can’t talk to anyone else because they won’t understand or sympathise.”
Severus watched her face carefully, as if looking for signs of insincerity. “Perhaps I don’t deserve sympathy. If you know my story as much as you claim to, you know why I believe this to be true.”
Mimi stopped undressing him. She placed her hand over his heart. “I know this was broken by a young, very immature girl that you loved. I don’t pretend to know her; I only know her through your eyes and your thoughts, but I can tell you that you are not the reason she is dead. That prophecy would have been found out regardless, and perhaps she wouldn’t have had the chance to put herself between Voldemort and Harry.”
Severus was breathing hard again, and he closed his eyes tightly; whether from grief or anger, Mimi wasn’t sure. She pressed on, “I know that Dumbledore has held this heart for ransom ever since. He has used you in every way, and even now, you are trying to prepare yourself to kill him, to take Draco’s place as the sacrificial lamb.”
Severus grabbed her forearms in a painful grip and shook her soundly. “Who. Are. You? Really? Tell me!”
Mimi forced herself to remain calm. “I've told you – “
He rose from the bed so quickly Mimi yelped in surprise. Fuck, she had no idea he could move so fast! He was gripping her arms so tightly they hurt, and for the first time in his presence, she was a little afraid of him.
“You know too much,” he hissed, his eyes blazing wildly. “What are you truly? You can’t be human!”
“Severus, you’re hurting me,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I’m just as human as you. I’m a Muggle from another lifetime. I don’t know how I got here, but you must believe me. It doesn’t matter that spells can’t affect me,” she said, looking into his eyes, willing him to believe. “But you can kill me. All you have to do, Severus, is break my heart.”
He released her and slumped back against the bed. Lying there, his hair scattered across his pillow, his shirt opened at the waist, barefooted, bathed in sweat and fear; Mimi had never seen anyone so beautiful.
For a moment, they merely gazed at one another. Severus licked his lips, and Mimi felt her stomach twist again. Finally, he said, “Mimi, the Dark Lord… he wants me to bring you to him.”
Mimi felt excited and terrified at once. “Fine. I’ll go with you. I’m going to make him leave you alone.”
Severus shook his head. “I won’t be able to help you. If you are harmed, I don’t think I could bear it.”
Mimi drew near to him. She smiled as she reached for the healing salve. “Now you know how I feel every time you return from him, tortured like this.”
As she gently applied the salve, he relaxed under her healing touch. “You have… kind hands,” he ground out, feeling like a fool and wishing he hadn’t said anything. She smiled down at him.
“I’m glad you feel that way, Severus. I promise you that I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Even to the point of keeping this from the Headmaster?”
She screwed the jar lid down with a hard twist of her wrist and grimaced. “I have no allegiance to Dumbledore, Severus. I despise how he’s used you all these years. I know what you must do in this time, and I will not stop you, but I see no reason to give him any more ammunition to use against you.”
As Mimi set the salve on the table, she noticed that this particular jar had writing on it. “Did you make this salve as well, Severus?”
“Yes, why?” His speech was slow and a little sleepy; he was already starting to drift off.
Mimi picked up the jar and studied it, her eyes growing wide and troubled. “Is this your handwriting?”
He made a rather charming little rumbling sound. He replied, “Whose else would it be?” Almost the moment the words were out of his mouth, he tried to grab the jar from her hands, but Mimi was already jumping from the bed, staring at the container.
Her hand started shaking, and the jar slipped from her fingers and fell onto the stone floor with a smash. She turned to the man lying on the bed. “It was your handwriting. On the cards, on the envelope; on the piece of paper. Sempra.”
She was gasping, almost hyperventilating. “It was you all the time,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “You created the Sempra deck. You brought me here from the future!”
It was Severus’ turn to placate her. “Mimi, I swear to you – “
“Oh, you swear, do you? You knew all along, and you didn’t tell me! How dare you pretend you knew nothing about the Sempra Deck?” Mimi’s eyes were like an icy pool; he could see and hear the frost and anger.
“I never said – “
Mimi held up her hand. “I know you didn’t. You never volunteered information, but that’s no excuse! Just because you don’t tell someone something doesn’t mean you shouldn’t!”
She turned away, breathing hard. “I’m not going to lose my temper and start shouting. I’m not to walk away and let you stew. I’m not going to go to Dumbledore either, because he knew as well, didn’t he?” Severus nodded slowly, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but there with her. Mimi returned his nod.
“What I am going to do, however, is sit here and let you sleep, because it’s plain that you are exhausted. And in the morning, you will explain yourself.” She held out her hand. “Do we have a deal, Severus?”
Severus looked at the tiny hand held out to him. She was telling him, with that small gesture, that she still trusted him enough to keep his word. Grimly, he took her hand, and it disappeared within his own large one. Rather grimly, he answered, “We have an accord, Mimi.”
Impulsively, he took her hand and brought it to his lips. Mimi stared at him, shocked, and he blessed the gods that he had been inspired to do it; it certainly put her off her guard.
“Thank you, Mimi, for giving me a chance to rest. The tale is, I’m afraid, one I will need all my strength to relate.”
As Severus lay on his bed, pretending to sleep, he stole a quick glance at Mimi. She sat in his most comfortable chair, idly thumbing through a recommended book, her dark hair fanning across her shoulders. Her legs were tucked up beneath her, and she looked as tiny as a woodland sprite, except no sprite had ever looked so dramatically dark and interesting. A goddess, he thought. My pocket goddess, he amended, with a mixture of longing and a certain frustration.
Severus had never been one who enjoyed indulging in self-pity, but these last years were the worst of his life, and sometimes he wondered how he continued to put one foot in front of the other.
Ever since Lily’s son had arrived at Hogwarts, his life had gone downhill. He was just a tool, used by all and sundry, to do their dirty work. He had been used, ridiculed, humiliated and thwarted for the past six years.
And that was nothing, compared to the night Albus called him into his study and shown him his blackened hand. It was rotting from Horcrux backlash so quickly it had almost drained Severus’ magic trying to slow it down. That had been bad enough, until Albus told him, almost gleefully, of his master plan for his gods damned Greater Good. Oh, and the coup de grace? Severus got to murder him.
It was too much. Dumbledore had ruthlessly used and abused him for a good one-third of Severus’ life, but this was a blow so bitter, he reeled from it even at this late date. It held too many factors for Severus to deal with; horror that he would be asked to take the life of an innocent, relief that at least one Master would no longer be around to lead him around by the nose, and a good, unhealthy measure of anger and hatred and regret and shame swilling around in the cauldron as well.
And there was the final, irrevocable knowledge that, once the deed was done, Severus was himself an outcast, a dead man. The Wizarding world would never, never forgive him for killing Dumbledore, no matter who defended him or how ardently his cause was pleaded.
He had returned to his rooms that night, and had given up. Only fear had prevented him from taking his own life. His love for Lily had withered and faded with the knowledge he was to become a cold-blooded killer at the time of his victim’s own choosing. It was too much. His sense of duty to keep Potter alive only to fulfill his destiny no longer mattered in the grim, bleak reality of Severus’ own destiny. Dumbledore had finally broken the tool.
Severus had lived a hopeless life, and would come to a pointless end, and would be forever hated. The name Severus Snape would be a blight on the face of Wizarding Britain. Parents would use his name as a warning to their errant children on the pitfalls of being naughty. Be a good boy, sonny, or you’ll end up like Severus Snape. As if any child on earth would be as gods forsaken as he.
Now, looking at Mimi, he realized how starved he was for simple understanding. How long had it been since anyone had given a shit enough to care about how he felt? He knew he pushed everyone away with his acerbic tongue and his prideful demeanor – who in his life had ever deemed him worthy of pushing back?
He felt a reluctant affection for her, and an unbidden desire that made him shuffle uncomfortably under the covers so that it would not make its presence known. What would it be like to lie with her? Would her sea-blue eyes glow with passion? Would she call his name as he moved in her?
There was a dormant part of him that now rose with the hunger of years-long hibernation, and he knew it would not be silenced with his own ministrations. He had told the truth when he confessed he’d never resorted to prostitutes, but he was starting to wonder if he should. Just to feel, to breathe, to feel flesh upon flesh once before he was sent to his own death.
No. He didn’t want sex with a stranger. He didn’t want a quick shag, a pity fuck. He wanted to make love to a woman whom he desired, and who desired him. Was that so much to ask? It was, it seemed, if you were Severus Snape.
He did not want to be a martyr, but that was his destiny. He looked at Mimi again, and surreptitiously adjusted his erection. He turned his back to her, and willed himself to calm by reciting the contents of the Potions cupboard. It was a handy way to discourage this sort of thing.
He mentally sighed. He had always tried to be honest with himself, even when he lied about everything else. In his secret heart, he wanted to see those sea-blue eyes glow beneath him. He wanted to kiss her mouth, which he imagined would taste of cinnamon and exotic spiced wine. He wanted to bury himself in her body and hear her throaty voice as he tore his name from her lips in the passion he had given her. He wanted Mimi. It did not, in light of recent circumstances, seem too much to ask.
