Chapter 36: "It keeps me up all night, up all night."

Notes:

AN: Fairly important chapter. A moment of seriousness and a moment of silliness.

If you're here, I'm guessing you're an Alan Rickman stan. So do yourself a favour and watch 'Rasputin: Dark Servant of Destiny'. You're welcome x

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"Severus, if you do not relinquish your memories, she will continue to deteriorate." Dumbledore said gravely.

He stared at Severus from over his half-moon spectacles and sighed.

"I saw you skulking about in the background of that night when I had a look at Circe's memories. Hiding in the bushes, throwing stones… but the memory is warped when Remus changes… It feels... divergent. No wonder Professor Smith's mind is suffering."

"So... the lapses in her memory? The forgetfulness? That's all because of what happened that night?"

"Her mind clearly cannot cope with it." Dumbledore said gravely. "I suppose it's trying to run two different series of events at once. Like a computer trying to run two separate programmes at the same time. Her mind obviously cannot do that, so it shuts down. Reverting back to the last time she felt safe. And each time a crash happens, her mind reverts further and further back in time...until one day her head will just-"

"Get rid of all of the memories that cause her to 'crash'." Snape finished gravely.

There was a dismal silence between the two men for a long time.

Snape thought of Circe's most recent episode, outside the Tri-Wizard dragon pit. Something in the roar of the dragon must have triggered her, reminded her of the werewolf snarl that night under the full moon. The same must have happened during her little 'incident' in Edinburgh. He'd heard of her apparent abandonment of Karkaroff and Maxime, and he theorised that another 'crash' must have occured in Circe's mind, causing her to just walk off without a care in the world. He wanted to help her. He had to help her.

Yet, realisation dawned on him as he remembered what he had done that full-mooned night.

"She can't… she can't see, Albus."

"The attack? Severus, it may help her to process the trauma of that night, put a stop to the panic attacks certainly."

"No not the attack. Before… or well, after that. When she was ill… in the Hospital."

Albus raised an eyebrow at Snape as the Potions Master turned bashful and red. "There is something else that you do not wish for her to see, or to remember?"

"I kissed her." Severus said as grimly as if he'd admitted to murder.

"Ahh." Dumbledore said with a hint of a grin.

Severus looked at him imploringly, his eyes swimming with frustrated, frightened tears.

"And how can you be certain that her mind will be righted after she does see what should have happened on that night? You cannot know that her forgetfulness will disappear if she does know the truth."

"Yes, Severus you are quite right. But what other option do we have? She's frightened, afraid that all of her memories will abandon her. Her fate was changed the most significantly of everyone that night, perhaps that is why her head rages against recollections of that evening. Bad things happen to wizards who meddle with time, Severus. You know that. This is it. You may change the past for your own benefit, but there will be consequences."

"I did it for her, not for me!"

"And that might be the very sentiment that saves her! If she can see what originally took place, how she was attacked by Remus, her decline in health, and the decision you took to go back in time… it might help her mind to understand. And with understanding may come healing."

"So why is it I was not affected as she was?"

"Perhaps because you were the enactor. The protagonist, if you will. You have always been aware of both timelines of that night. I don't know how you did it, my friend, but you managed to merge yourself back into this course of events too."

Severus remembered the fractals and tears in time that had appeared that night. He felt like telling the Headmaster that he still woke some nights in a cold sweat as he dreamt of being plummeted into the dark void of one of those tears. Feeling the pull and comfort of endless death. The nothingness of simply ceasing to exist. But he would much rather take bad dreams over Circe slowly losing her mind to memory loss.

"It won't get better, wil it." he asked Dumbledore solemnly.

The Headmaster shook his head. "I do not believe so. But regardless, she deserves to know the truth, whether it will help her or not."

Severus nodded gravely, extending his hand out towards the old man and motioning for an empty glass bottle. Dumbledore had one ready and dropped it into Severus's outstretched palm and waited patiently for Snape to deposit his memories of that night under the Whomping Willow. He touched his wand to his temple and closed his eyes. Slowly, he drew out a thin wispy strand of shimmering matter and watched it as it floated down into the waiting glass bottle.

"There it is." he muttered. "My condemnation."

"Oh don't be so dramatic, Severus." Dumbledore tutted.

"I couldn't stay here if she knew…"

"Oh, well I'm afraid you must. What about Harry? What about the promise you made me? The boy still needs protecting." Severus kicked at the Headmaster's desk in a burst of anger.

Of course. I couldn't leave. I can't abandon Lily's son.

Dumbledore didn't even flinch at his outburst, merely looked to him with a roll of his eyes. "You won't be abandoning him… us, then, Severus?"

"It appears not. I must serve out my sentence in purgatory here, Headmaster." Snape said through gritted teeth.

"You're being dramatic again, Severus." Albus said, rising to his feet.

A knock came at Dumbledore's door.

"Hello? Headmaster?" Came Circe's voice from the other side of the wood.

"You asked her here?!" Severus whispered, nervous sweat already forming at his brow. "Knowing I may have refused to-"

"No you wouldn't have. You love the girl."

Snape's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to deny it. But Dumbledore waved it shut with an exasperated hand and carried on.

"I knew you'd do anything for her after you came to see me about your patronus. And if you needed any further convincing, I thought having her here would speed up your ability to make good decisions..."

Snape stood there in shocked, indignant anger for a few seconds, feeling like he was laid naked before the Headmaster.

"Why you manipulative, old, decrepit-"

A knock at the door sounded out again. "Headmaster?"

"Just a moment, dear!" Albus called out. "Well? Would you like to be present when your sentence in purgatory begins? Or would you rather-"

Severus stood up from his seat, scrabbling behind Dumbledore's desk and running to hide in one of the inner sanctuaries of the Headmaster's office. He ducked behind a huge bookcase that Dumbledore kept filled with ancient scrolls and crumbling grimoires.

"Oh Severus, running and hiding from this again?" Dumbledore said, his hands on his hips.

"Piss off." He sneered.

Dumbledore tittered merrily and with a wave of his hand, he opened the door to Circe.

She walked into the Headmaster's office reverently, her hand in her pockets. She quickly looked about the room, having thought she heard another voice in here alongside the Headmaster's. But perhaps she'd imagined it.

I thought I was having a good memory day, though... She thought soberly.

Albus smiled warmly at her and motioned for her to sit down.

"Headmaster, if this is about Cedric's standing in the competition, he shouldn't be penalised because I made a stupid mistake." she began, the words falling out of her in a desperate sputter. "Yes, the dragon was distracted by me but Diggory would have been a fool to ignore the opportunity to snatch the egg up! Doesn't the Tri-Wizard tournament encourage observant thinking and improvising when the situation changes? I'll talk to Barty… Mr Crouch-"

"Professor Smith…" Albus interrupted, "Yes, the Head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation was rather put-out that Diggory's victory in the challenge was heavily influenced by you. Karkaroff and Maxime were whispering in his ear to have Diggory disqualified."

"No! You can't allow that to happen. I didn't… I didn't do it to sway the competition..."

"But you were told rather explicitly not to get out of your seat, Professor." Dumbledore said seriously. Circe looked at her hands and began fidgeting with a ring on her finger.

"No… I know…"

"But you will be pleased to know, after quite a bit of convincing, Barty has allowed Cedric to continue in the competition. His victory stands."

Circe looked up at the Headmaster, wide eyed. "He did? Oh, thank God…" she sighed. "I… uhh… I did tell him what the Atlantean script on the egg said though… I felt bad that I'd jeopardized his position in the competition. And well, I thought he'd thank me for not having that horrific noise ripping through the Hufflepuff common room…"

"Mr Diggory can receive help outside of challenges." Dumbledore said with a smile. "So you told him that the egg instructs its possessor to open it underwater then?"

"Yes. I was a little disappointed that he didn't translate it himself. We studied Atlantean culture and language quite heavily last year..."

Dumbledore tutted and rolled his eyes sympathetically.

"And, well… I also said that I'd only tell him what the egg's script said if he told Harry what to do too."

"Oh, Professor. How diplomatic of you."

Circe smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"But I have actually called you here for another reason, Circe."

Dumbledore paused as Circe waited on baited breath. After a tense moment, he lay Severus's vial of memories on the desk. Circe's bright smile dropped as she recognised the wispy substance within.

"My memories?" she asked.

"Not yours," he replied. "Severus's."

From behind the bookshelf, Severus had to repress a heavy groan.

"Severus? But… what does he remember about that night that I don't?"

"Something… rather crucial." Dumbledore replied enigmatically, a twinkle in his eye. "Something that may help you understand."

Circe sat in the armchair opposite the Headmaster, momentarily lost in thought. If Severus knew something about the night of Remus's transformation, why hadn't he told her? He'd seen how badly affected she was. He'd held her hands tight as she was in the throws of a panic attack. Cared for and comforted her as she'd wept over her "skittishness". She thought of asking the Headmaster why Snape may have chosen to keep it from her, whatever it was. She thought of asking why he wasn't here to be answerable to her internal allegations. But she was tired, she didn't have the mental energy to expend on Severus. The last few weeks of her mind's deterioration had taken its toll on her.

"Will it help my forgetfulness?" she asked, a lump rising in her throat.

"Maybe." the Headmaster responded simply.

Circe nodded, and grabbed the vial. She stood up and looked expectantly over at the Pensieve, in the corner of the office.

"Now?" Dumbledore asked, a little surprised.

"As soon as possible, Headmaster!"

"Very well." Dumbledore glided over to her side.

With a wave of his wand the Pensieve began to move out of it's position, tucked away into the wall, and above it a set of blackened mirrors folded out, shining the eerie blue light of the waters all around the room. He walked over to the bowl and placed a hand on the rim, beckoning Circe closer with the other.

"Pour the memory into the waters…" he instructed, " and then place your face into the bowl. You will feel a tugging sensation. That's the Pensieve wanting to draw you into the memory. It's nothing to fear, let it take you. You will be standing back here once you have seen everything."

Circe nodded and looked down at the vial in her hands again. "Will I like what I see?"

Dumbledore did not answer her, but his eyes swam with a look of deep wisdom. She sighed and made her way to the Pensive's side. She cast one final look to the Headmaster before turning back to the shimmering blue water, emptying the vial, and plunging her face into the iridescent liquid.

"Is… is she…?" Snape asked cautiously as he poked his head from around the bookcase.

"She is. You can come out now."

Snape's scowl sat heavy on his face as he made his way back over to Dumbledore. He looked at Circe, her head submerged in the dip of the Pensive, her hands gripping on to the rim. He wondered what she was seeing first? He'd tried to start from the moment he'd decided to go after Remus when he suspected he was meeting with Black, back when he suspected he knew something about her disappearance. But avoiding their kiss was not possible. It sat right in the middle of the memory he'd given Dumbledore, stopping when he'd freed Sirius from the thorns with his incendio charm and had watched himself and her retreat back up to the castle, with Circe in his arms.

"Does it replay the memories in real time? Or does it…?" Snape asked, feeling hollowed. Gutted to his core.

"I imagine she'll be finished witnessing what you donated in about ten minutes." Dumbledore replied.

"So fast…"

"I am sorry, Severus… but I truly believe this was the only way to help her."

"You do not need to say you're sorry. You don't mean it."

Dumbledre sighed and tried to place a hand on Severus's shoulder, but the Potions Master drew away from him sharply.

"I've been trying to protect her… keep her safe. And now it doesn't matter. She'll see me for what I am: a hypocrite."

"Ah, so that's why you had your little married couple's argument in this office the other night. Did you tell her that you didn't love her?"

"What business is it of yours?!" Snape shouted, turning from him to hide his face. "You already know too much about me… Gah, I don't care any longer. Why don't you just shout it from the top of Ravenclaw tower? It seems like you're party to know the truth about every woman I've ever loved… It couldn't be private, for just me and her... "

"Severus, you know full well I would never betray your confidence. I never have, and never will. But you need not be frightened of falling in love again."

Severus looked to the Headmaster with hatred in his eyes. "How can you of all people say that? My love for Lily keeps me here, you used it as leverage during the war to bring me over to the Order, I risked my life for her and her son, and it still amounted to nothing… And here I am thirteen years later, still your instrument!"

"And I know that you would make those same decisions again, if given your time again. Because you are, Severus, a good man. But Circe is not Lily, Severus. History is not fated to repeat itself. But you know that already. I think that's why you love her. And with the dark times looming over the horizon for us all, wouldn't it be better to weather the storm with someone you love at your side?"

"Stop it… Just stop it!" Severus roared, knocking Dumbledore's chair over as he stormed from the room.

As the door to Dumbledore's office banged shut, Circe rose up from the Pensive gasping for air. She fell back, reeling with shock, and Dumbledore was quick to catch her.

"Goodness! That was over a little quicker than I expected!" he said calmingly.

Circe's breaths were shallow and rapid, she stared at the Pensieve in disbelief. She was utterly speechless, having seen it all play out before her like a film she had seen when she was a very young child. Something she sort of, maybe remembered, but not really. Now it was all startlingly obvious. Brigadoon, the rock, the protego spell, why Severus had woken up from her sleeping spell. It was all him. And then there was…

Circe touched a hand to her lips, hoping there was still a touch of his warmth there, a faint lingering part of Severus still on her mouth.

"Where is he? The bastard… Where is he now, Dumbledore?!"

"Oh… I, uhh… I don't know who-"

"Don't you dare lie to me any more!" she shouted, pulling herself up and out of the Headmaster's grasp. "WHERE IS HE!?"

"He left a few moments ago." he said quietly, pointing at the door. Circe rushed to leave but Dumbledore called out to her. "Wait, Professor!"

"What?" she asked shortly.

"How do you feel? Did it help?"

Circe paused and thought of the werewolf attack she had just seen. When she had been attacked by the werewolf. The claws, and the blood, and the teeth, and the screaming. It was horrible to think about, awful to remember. But remember it she did. She waited, thinking over and over again about the attack, forcing her mind to think deeply about every painful detail. And then she waited, but her mind did not slip away. Her memories stayed firmly rooted in her psyche. She looked back to Dumbledore, utterly astounded, mouth agape.

"Well?" he asked expectantly.

"I… I remember!" she uttered. "Dumbledore, I remember!"

She forgot her momentary anger at the old man and went running to him. Dumbledore laughed heartily as she enveloped him in an elated hug. She cried tears of relief and Dumbledore patted her on the back gently. When she drew back, she cleared her throat and raised a finger at Albus.

"I'm still angry with you, by the way… For not telling me what you knew."

"Oh, of course Professor. Now go and find him." Albus replied with a wink.

Circe turned on her heels and rushed from the office, feeling like she was flying on air. It was late afternoon, dusk almost gone, and as she ran past students, on their way to the evening meal in the Great Hall, she stopped a few groups of teenagers every so often to ask which way Professor Snape had gone. This way she managed to chase him through the school and as she passed by the windows of Hogwarts, she heard the great rumble of a thunderstorm stirring to life. As she approached the main doors leading to the castle's expansive grounds, she saw that they were still slightly ajar and rain was smattering the flagstones below. She peered out into the rain and saw the swish of a black cape walking off into the distance. The students behind her were clamouring away, waiting for the commencement of dinner, and as Circe glanced back at them she knew Severus would never hear her over their noise. She turned back to the downpour and stepped out.

Almost immediately she was soaked through to the skin, but she did not give pause even once as she raced through the clock tower courtyard and out towards the standing stones. Severus was in front of her, cutting through the rain like a great black shark, marching with strife and angst through the foul weather. As they both reached the stones, she called out to him.

"Severus, stop!"

He halted in his tracks immediately, but did not turn to face her initially. Circe watched his shoulders hunch as if he were about to be scolded by a parent. He turned around slowly, he too soaked to the bone, his hair limp and sodden, sticking to the sides of his face, but his eyes were hollows of sorrow. Circe gazed back at him at a complete loss for words now she was finally here. For a moment they both stood like that, longingly gazing at one another as the rain beat down around them.

"Well?" she finally asked, flapping the sodden arms of her coat. "Do you have something to say?"

"Circe-"

"Like maybe, "I'm sorry I kept memories from you that could have helped you get better"? "I'm sorry I kept the truth from you about what happened that night"? Oh or maybe, what about "I'm sorry I kissed you and never breathed a fucking word about it"?!"

"It… it was a mistake." Severus stuttered. Circe was not convinced.

"Oh okay, so kissing me was a "mistake"? So we're just straight up insulting each other now, are we? Alright, umm… your use of sarcasm is repetitive and a very easy form of wit."

"I… what?" he asked.

"And I hate that you never ever admit when you're wrong."

"Circe…"

Then she began to laugh, and Severus was thrown completely off guard.

Why is she laughing? Is she confused again? Deranged? Hysterical?

"Come on, your turn… Lets get it all out in the open now we're on a roll. Come on! If you want to push me away then you're gonna have to try harder than that, Severus. Especially as you snuck yourself a cheeky kiss when you thought you wouldn't be held answerable for it!"

She dissolved into laughter again, her brilliant green eyes shining like gems through her rain-soaked face. Something in the sound of her laugh softened Severus's beating heart. His resolve to storm out into the downpour suddenly felt so dramatic, so emotionally laden, that it was all too much to take seriously. He found himself smiling too as he gazed up into the thick grey clouds above.

Well, if you can't cry about it… then laugh.

"I… I hate all your friends." he muttered as her laugh infected him.

"Ooh, good start."

"And… and you can't decide if you want to be an academic or a musician."

"Nice, nice."

"You have a pathological need to be liked by the students, and you'll do anything to make yourself seem "cool"."

She giggled. "And the clincher?"

He leaned forward with a slight grin and sneered. "Your music's shite."

She gasped in mock surprise, clutching at her heart. Circe chuckled again and Severus too let out a few low-timbred bubbles of laughter. The only sound around them now was the falling rain as they gazed at one another.

"And is any of that really true?" she asked when she could not bear the potency of his dark eyes any more.

His brow knitted together in a frown and he looked to the ground. "No." he whispered. "I suppose I could grow to like Myron." He looked to her with a brazen smile.

Circe snorted. And then she charged forward, closing the chasm between them in a single stride. Before Severus could utter a word of protest her mouth was on his. He stepped back with the suddenness and intensity of the kiss and his back collided with the standing stone behind him. She did not halt or relinquish. And he, his defenses dropped momentarily, kissed her back. Her mouth opened to him and he was lost, belonging wholly to that instantaneous and urgent tongue. He wheeled her around, until she was the one pinned to the stone, his hand about her neck, in her sodden curls, caressing her flushed cheeks. Her fingers gripped at his hair, pulling him deeper into her and she felt him, all of him, pressed against her as the rain ran from his face onto hers.

"I… I can't… This can't happen…" he panted, feeling the alluring throb of her in his very veins.

Circe groaned, rolling her eyes and shoved him away from her, hard. He staggered back, almost slipping on the perilously muddy ground.

"Come back and see me when you've made up your mind, Sev." she uttered with a glower that churned his stomach with desire.

She walked past him, letting her shoulder brush against his as she went.

Circe walked back up to the castle, aching for Severus with every inch of her but having enough of her pride left to leave him staring after her, stood panting and senselessly overwhelmed in the rain.

"It cannot happen, Circe." he repeated, calling after her. "I… I should stay away from you."

"Oh good, I could use a week or two's peace from you." she shot back with a wink.

Despite the overwhelming sense of confliction he felt, Severus couldn't help but laugh at that. She turned and left him to his ruminations, trudging back up to the castle to dry off and to find a sinfully indulgent hot chocolate and a hairdryer.

And maybe if I try really hard, I can wank myself into oblivion tonight.

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"Dear Remus,

Hope everything in Auld Reekie's going okay. I've sent over a few month's worth of wolfsbane. Keep it in the fridge. Label it as 'jellied eels' or something, make sure the overseas students don't eat it…

I need a small favour. Yule Ball coming up next week, and I need a real "fuck me" dress, you know? Haven't got anything even remotely resembling something posh here, and Dad will dress me up like some porcelain doll if I ask him to get something. Take Tonks with you if you must. She knows the kind of stuff I like.

It's kind of a make or break night, Remus. So make me look stunning.

Circe"

She rounded off her letter with a flurry, looking up from her table in the Great Hall and checking to make sure all other students were still working hard on the translation task she'd set them. She'd been kicked out of her classroom as Maxime had claimed it to teach her lesson on the appropriate dancing routines in preparation for the Yule Ball. It was set to be a long afternoon, stuck in the Great Hall by the warmth of the fire, trying not to nod off. It had been a long few nights for the Professors of Hogwarts, monitoring the halls at night and patrolling the corridors, keeping an eye out for students sneaking around to ask one another to the ball and get in a quick experimental fumble. It was like they were all on heat! Quite a number of Durmstrang boys had been caught seducing the Hogwarts girls and Circe had noticed how Krum had taken a particular fancy to Granger. Every time she was on duty to go teenage-bonking hunting at night, she lived in fear of seeing Hermione in a tangle with Viktor in a dark corner or secluded little alcove.

Circe pulled out another piece of paper, desperately trying to suppress a yawn. She paused, quill hovering over parchment as a dark shadow passed over her. She looked up and caught the sly glance Severus cast at her as he patrolled up and down the rows of benches. He looked down his long nose at her and raised a brow. She made a point of looking nonchalantly back down at her empty parchment, ignoring his grab for attention.

Don't look at him, don't look at him, don't look at him, don't look at him….she repeated internally, over and over again as she pretended to write.

Snape circled back around to his group of fourth years, sharing the other end of the Great Hall with her.

It would have to be just my luck to be stuck in here all afternoon with Severus and his classes… of all bloody people!

She tried, in vain, to force Severus out of her head and began to write again.

"Dear Odette,

I don't know if you remember me but ..."

She paused in her writing.

B ut what, Circe? "We lost our virginity to each other and I spent years mending my broken heart and worrying after I never heard back from you."? Of course she'll bloody remember you.

She crossed through the line and scrunched up the paper again. Was it selfish of her to want to hear from Odette? To know she was alright and happy after all these years? Or was it even more selfish that she was using Odette as a distraction away from thinking about Severus?

Oh God, what if she thinks I'm fishing?

She sighed exasperatedly, feeling like she was caught between a rock and a hard place. Circe glanced up, watching Harry, Ron and Hermione natterin away in hushed whispers. Ron was gazing at Hermione like he had a golf ball in his mouth. Like he was waiting to ask something.

Oh, buddy… You're too late. Krum got in there yesterday.

Severus slid over to them and gave them a swat around the heads for their noise. They shrunk back away from his light slaps and Circe sputtered out a singular laugh. Severus looked over to her with a frown and Circe quickly tried to disguise her noise by going back to her letter. But she still managed to catch the hint of a smile that passed over Severus's face before she was buried in the parchment again. She smiled to herself too and cleared her throat, before beginning her letter again:

"Dear Odette,

Madame Maxime told me where you work and that you now have children…"

No, good God, that's way too creepy. Sounds like I've fucking stalked her.

Circe yawned again, and looked out with bleary eyes amongst the students. Fred was making his best attempt at asking Angelina Johnson to the Ball by throwing a paper ball at her.

Ahh, how romantic. But she continued to watch with a smile as Johnson nodded eagerly back to him and Fred turned to his mates with a wide grin. Well done, Weasley. Just make sure I don't catch you and Miss Johnson in the shadows somewhere late at night…

"How the bloody hell did you do that?!" Ron asked, his voice cracking in that adorable teenage-boy way.

But he'd said it too loud and Severus was quick to swat at his and Harry's heads again. Circe laughed again and this time she didn't bother to hide her amusement from Snape. The corner of his mouth turned up as he realised that he was making her laugh...

Circe jumped as a loud clatter echoed through the Great Hall, and Karkaroff came trotting into the space. He approached Severus slowly with a nervous look on his face. Circe watched the Durmstrang Headmaster walk amongst the rows in-between the tables looking paler and more drawn than she had ever seen him. She'd been noticing the Bulgarian man in conversation with Severus increasingly often over the last few weeks. What had started off as casual chats and conversations as Snape and Karkaroff ambled around the quad together had now turned into hurried and hushed whispers. Circe had been forced to make herself scarce when she'd been attempting to sneak some asphodel out of Severus's overflow storage cupboard for Remus, but had instead almost walked in on Karkaroff and Snape arguing rather loudly with one another. She wished she could have stayed and eavesdropped some more, but she'd had to sneak off out of sight when she'd heard Moody's lumbering steps approaching from down the corridor. Plus, she'd made it obvious to Severus that she was taking a step back, trying to avoid him, ball in his court sort of thing. That was, of course, when immature giggling wasn't exposing her…

In the silence of the Great Hall, Circe was pulled back into the here and now when she heard, very very faintly at first, the whisper of a tune. It wasn't even a melody, too quiet for notes to be formed, but she looked around for who was making it, in case it was one of her students. She listened closely…

"Ra ra Rasputin

Lover of the Russian queen

There was a cat that really was gone... "

The noise grew louder until she could distinguish the voices.

Fred and bloody George!

"Ra ra Rasputin!

Russia's greatest love machine

It was a shame how he carried on."

"Oh! Mlukvay, Zatvaryay si ustata! I'm not Russian, I'm Bulgarian!" Karkaroff shouted at the twins irritably.

He turned on his heels in a huff, abandoning his conversation with Snape and striding back out of the room.

"Ra ra Rasputin!

Lover of the Russian queen

There was a cat that really was gone.

Ra ra Rasputin

Russia's greatest love machine

It was a shame how he carried on!" The twins stood up and hollered it into the air.

Circe snorted with laughter again. They'd been doing this now for a few weeks: following round the Headmaster singing that song just to get on his nerves. Whatever little genius had brought Boney M to the MMAP meetings deserved a medal. And this song was somehow perfect for Fred and George; it fit their energies perfectly. And then of course, Circe had shown them both a picture of the real Rasputin and one "hey, that looks like Karkaroff"'s later, they were off to torment the Bulgarian Headmaster.

"Detentions, both of you!" Snape shouted. "To my office immediately."

The twins left the room with a dance and a caper, repeating the chorus of the song over and over again as the students gathered began to clap along. Circe was in too much of a fit of giggles to do anything to discipline them.

"Silence!" Snape roared and the children shrunk away from his fury and reluctantly back down to their work.

Circe's smile lingered on her face as Snape locked eyes with her again. It suddenly hit her in a wave just how potently sexual and alluring he was.

Not unlike Rasputin himself…

Before, when Circe had studied Russia history, she'd marveled at how any high born Moscow ladies would even consider fucking Rasputin. Now, she sort of got it. That draw, that darkness, those mesmeric eyes.

Hermione got up sharply from her table and uttered something haughty and angry at the boys.

"And I said yes!" Circe just about heard her say. She handed her books to Severus and stormed out of the room, leaving Harry and Ron chattering away in her wake.

Obviously something Yule Ball related, she wondered. But Potter and Weasley were talking too loud now, and Snape looked at them sharply and then back at Circe with an expression that screamed "shall I?". Circe too glared at Harry and Ron, not concentrating on their work, merrily discussing who to ask to the ball now Hermione was taken. She glanced back to Severus and nodded enthusiastically. Snape approached them slowly, and Circe raised a hand to her mouth to smother any giggle that might escape her, watching with wide eyes. He positioned himself at their back and the boys still didn't lower their volume, blissfully unaware of Severus's presence behind them. Severus raised one hand and tugged at his sleeve, and then the other in the same fashion, keeping them hovering in the air like a surgeon after scrub-down. Drawing out the moment because he knew Circe was watching. He looked again at Circe and she shook with suppressed laughter. He smiled too and then smacked the boys over the heads with a cracking thump.

Circe erupted into belly-aching laughter as Harry and Ron cried out.

-------

That night Circe had a rather odd little dream of running through a Russian city, the snow under her feet and the clamour of people around. She'd struggled all afternoon to get that bloody Boney M song out of her head once the Weasley twins had sung it in the Great Hall, and now there it was again, replaying for her in all its Slavic disco glory.

The dream had taken her through the streets of Moscow, pulled along by a fervent and attentive female crowd, all of them clamoring to glimpse at a man preaching to the palpably aroused crowd of ladies. She craned to see who it was: he looked shabby, tall, long of beard, darkest ebony hair, dressed in a peasant blouse and sable boots. And whatever he was saying, he said it well; his movements were fluid, his cadence charismatic. But as soon as she'd pushed her way to the front of the crowd, he was gone. Disappeared into a nearby restaurant.

Circe followed, eager to meet the enigmatic preacher. And then somehow it was night, gypsy violins in her ears, cigar smoke and French garlic butter in the air. There was someone dancing, spinning away to the gypsy music at the center of the restaurant's floor, in the throws of ecstasy and drunkenness. A wheeling, kazackok of sickening dizziness as he spread his arms wide like a dark raven in flight. Circe approached slowly, and when the man turned to face her, she saw from the curves of his face and the look in his eye, that it was Severus. But not Severus. Rasputin!

He pulled her into a sudden and tight hold, pressing her close to him as he danced with her. The music of the gypsy violins increasing in speed and urgency, faster and faster, as the Severus-Rasputin spun her around. His eyes were flaming and hypnotic, never once leaving her face as they danced. The dream fell apart in that disjointed way dreams do and the two of them drank, and spun, and danced, and kissed in that hedonistic way the truly lost and insane do.

The last thing Circe remembered before waking up, was the Snape-Rasputin reenacting a story she must have heard some time ago when she'd read about the life of the Russian holy man. Her Severus-Rasputin jumped on a table in the middle of the restaurant, much to the scandal of the high born Dukes and Duchesses tutting and fiddling with their forks. He tugged up his shirt and clenched it in between his jaws, exposing his bare chest… and begun unbuckling his trousers. The whole restaurant gasped as out flopped the impressive manhood of the Severus-Rasputin. All, historically reported, ten inches of it.