Title:
From the
Author:
Vera
Rating:
PG
Summary:
The nature of Lucius love for his best friend and his son
shapes
all
of
their lives. Lucius/Severus Lucius/Draco
Disclaimer:
They do not belong to me and I make no money from this
Warning:
Contains talk of incest.
Archive:
Just tell me where and go ahead.
Feedback:
Desired, cherished and can be used in the place of good
chocolate.
When he was a small child, he was called shy
and was lovingly coaxed out by some nanny or another to greet the visiting
adult. He would only stare at proffered hands and the usual cooing never seemed
to ensue. Even then his eyes had been dark; his stare unnerving.
As a teenager, he was called introverted.
He sat mostly alone, buried deep in tomes and books and, like most lonely
children, made stories in his head about the friends he would eventually
make. He would watch the others,
discreet as any good Slytherin, learned their banter, their habits. Over the years, he became an excellent
watcher, trained by a pack of hideous Gryffindors, from whom he learned all too
well the consequences of being caught.
In the common room, he watched as one
blonde head in particular eased through the ranks, his tongue sharp and
careful. All motion revolved around him.
There wasn't a topic he would not hold court on as if he knew its every
nuance and certainly no girl that he could not charm. Lucius was alive and he
burned with a cold, unflickering flame.
Severus envied him that. He had no passion to speak of, nothing that
consumed him. His tongue was perhaps as sharp and clever, but never so
discriminating. He never stopped to consider who he was snapping at. There was
no one worth holding conversation with, no one worth the effort of civility;
except his mother and she was dead by the time he was fourteen.
Only his teachers saw any of his respect
and then only as a means to an end. Severus had a hunger for knowledge that
went far enough to be called obsession.
It was the only thing he truly loved.
In the depths of the night, when even the unwaking house of Slytherin
was known to tuck it self safely into bed and give the world a miss for a few
hours, Severus curled over pages of facts, spells, and tonics. The common room portraits watched over him,
vaguely amused, as he sipped at his home-brewed version of sleep substitutes
and gathered all the things of the world to him.
They piled up, facts and books, and created
neat, hard, compacted walls around his mind. He was armed to the teeth with
things that could not be taken from him. His mother had said his mind was like
an iron trap when he would go out to the market and return with everything she
had mentioned wanting for the last several weeks. Things that went in to Severus Snape's mind
stayed there.
The difficulty was that there was nothing
he could do with any of it. No one cared that he knew exactly how to remove the
entire skeleton of a frog without making a single incision or that he knew how
to identify seventy-eight different strands of influenza by the color of the
person's phlegm or that he had memorized the capital of every country in the
world, including some that no longer existed.
No one cared what Severus knew and his mind was full of things he longed
to share.
He wanted to capture someone. Anyone really, hopefully someone with enough
brains to understand, nail them to a chair and make them listen. Tell them
everything and whisper things as if they were the most precious secrets in the
world. As people buzzed about the common room, making their petty plans and
deals, snogging in the corners they thought safe and well shadowed, he learned,
absorbed and watched.
Then, late one night, in the middle of
fifth year, it happened.
He'd been sitting, absorbed in a fifteenth
century dissertation on the interaction of the human digestive system and
reasonably diluted arsenic. There was a small group of students still awake,
cramming for the Transfiguration final. Vaguely, he became aware that there was
some argument going on between them and, given the tension in the room, it
would probably come to blows.
"Gentleman, I hardly think all this
bickering is necessary." The soft drawl covered the room, barely above a
whisper. "We need only ask an impartial party."
"Impartial? In this house?"
Westing Zabini snorted. "Who would
you propose?"
"Severus?"
For a moment, Severus was quite sure he was
going to faint. His heart had begun to pound fiercely in his chest and his
blood pressure sky rocketed. Somehow, he
gathered his wits and managed only to look slightly disturbed at the
interruption.
"What?"
"Would you happen to know the
difference between using a red feather as opposed to a white one for the
transfiguration of a into a silver ring?"
"That would depend." Still,
confident, his voice cracked only the slightest. "Is the feather dyed or
did it come from a different sort of bird?"
"Dyed." Silver eyes were on him
for the first time and Severus did not hesitate.
"There would be not at all, provided
one was competent. Otherwise, the dye would tinge the silver. It is
occasionally done on purpose by jewelers."
"I told you, West." Lucius said
with a smirk. "Sorry to bother, Severus."
He sketched a stiff nod and returned to his
book, but the subject's slow demise no longer grabbed his attention and, for
the first time since he was eleven, he retired to bed before
The word must have spread about the minor
incident because it became a known fact among the Slytherins that Severus Snape
was the one to go to for information. People would approach him in the
evenings, almost always from the side as if they were going to ambush him and
ask in quiet, tentative whispers if he knew how many pins were needed to
complete a charm or if he might happen to remember the length of ribbon needed
to transfigure it into a convincing puddle of fake blood. In sure, even tones he would answer and the
glow of satisfaction first alighted in him.
It was weeks, maybe even months, later when
Lucius spoke to him again, tapping into a whole other side of his store of
information. It was the weekend this time and Severus was once more alone in
the dank dungeons as everyone else gathered above for the Ravenclaw versus
Gryffindor match. Quidditch had never interested him in the slightest and
sunshine was no friend to someone with skin as pale as his.
So he remained and idly did his Arithmancy
homework, roughly sketching out the answers and trying to keep his mind on
task.
"Hullo." The sudden noise
startled him and his quill tip slashed the problem he had been working on. With
a curse he muttered a quick Erasing Spell and sighed when it took up half the
problem as well. A light laugh drew his
attention upwards. Lucius was standing over him, looking more then a little
amused.
"You startled me." Matter of
fact, not accusing because one should never accuse outright.
"Yes." Even at barely sixteen,
Lucius was tall and graceful as he sank into the armchair next to Severus'. So
unlike Severus, who found his already substantial height disconcerting and
difficult to control. "The match was dull and I had something to ask you
that is better off unheard."
"What would that be?" Quietly
tensing, Severus knew exactly how dangerous his classmate was and it wouldn't
do to be caught in a trap of his making.
"Why is Charles flirting with
Esther?" The question was light, almost companionable, but Severus knew
better.
"I'm sure I have no idea."
"Of course you do." The sleek
blond leaned forward, conspiringly.
"I've
seen you, you know. All these years that you have worked so hard to be
invisible, the unseen book worm. I
watched you because I knew that you were hiding something. You gather
information to you, those eyes never rest. There probably isn't a secret in
this house that you don't know."
Silently, Severus agreed. Excepting, of
course, whatever it was that Lucius did when he slipped out of the common room
at night, wrapped in the cloak no one else suspected he owned.
"Perhaps" was all he said aloud.
"What do you want for those secrets,
Severus? What price do you put on your only commodity?"
Only Lucius could have asked that question
that way. Only he would have cut through all other propriety and said
blatantly, I know I can buy you, say only what you want and I will price what I
desire from you. Severus had watched slyer, cleverer students run up against
the Malfoy cunning and all had faltered. Better to ask, better to declare
himself openly up for biding then to be broken down piece by bloody piece.
"Tell me where you go at night."
He spoke in the same even tones he used with everyone, the same sweeping
snideness.
"I use an Invisibility Cloak, how
could you know...."
"You have already said that there is nothing
that escapes me. Why question your own
theory?"
Grey eyes glinted in the torchlight and
something flickered in answer in Severus' stomach. He had what he had secretly,
truly desired. This was his equal; among
all the beings he had met in his short life, this was the only one with whom he
resonated. They understood each other, Severus and Lucius.
For the rest of their years at Hogwarts,
there was no one who could come between them. Dark and light, they swept
through the halls like gods among men. Their combined cunning was so formidable
that they had no need for bruising body guards or strange weapons. Revered and
feared, their followers came like supplicants to a temple, quiet and baring
gifts.
Even the Gryffindors learned to back down.
After the prank that had nearly ended Severus' life, Black had been mostly
quelled and the Marauders looked for other fodder. Severus was a force to be reckoned with now
that he had Lucius as his mouth. It was always the golden of them who spoke,
Severus the silent partner in their strange business.
During the day they were rulers and in the
night, which Severus had once spent poured over his books, they were initiated
into a growing clan that then referred to each other as Brother.
Death Eater came later. The pain came
later. Betrayal....
It was guessed at, in the quiet, far from
searing glances and stares, whispered in the halls, that perhaps the duo was
far closer then friends. No one dared
ever to ask, so it remained one of the many mysteries and secrets that they
held closer than cards in a high stakes poker game.
But Severus knew, and in his iron trap mind
he could catalogue every touch, every whisper that Lucius had ever bestowed
upon him. From every casual grope in the
halls between classes to long, pounding hours of bedplay, impenetrable
Silencing Charms up and clothes ripped to irreparable shreds.
For Lucius, it was a long, drawn out game.
They were never friends, but opponents locked into a battle that he would, in
the end, win. This was the conclusion that Severus learned only much later,
when decisions that could not be revoked had been made and too much blood had
already been spilled.
For Severus, it was his first love. It was the passion he had envied, the
friendship he had craved; and the sudden awareness of his own body changed
everything. His height became advantageous and his voice became a sensual
weapon all on its own.
He knew that Lucius had others, some of
whom they shared, but he never questioned the words of affection his golden
other half whispered in his ear as they faded into sleep.
The worst of it was, when the lines were
finally drawn so many years later and they faced each other in final bloody
battle that the feelings would not die. Severus had loved Lucius when they had
been little more then foolish children and he loved him when he ended his life
on the steps outside Malfoy Manor.
At the end of it all, when James' whelp was
carried off on the shoulders of those that remained, unconscious, but
victorious, Severus curled protectively around the body of his only friend and
wept for the first time since his defection.
Had Lucius ever felt anything for him?
It didn't matter. Severus had long since
concluded that perceived reality was usually what one had to make do with. He could not know all the facts, time had
punched holes in his old feelings of grandeur and he knew now that no book
could define feelings and hunches.
Love itself resisted being broken down,
made factual. It was only there. And in the moment that he cradled the golden,
limp body against his, he knew that his love, despite what it had weathered,
was as true as the moment Lucius had muttered "Tell me what you
know."
He placed a gentle kiss on the cool
forehead and laid the body back down gently. There were none left to see his
actions, no one to question the silent tears catching in the many lines that
worry, anger and fear had pushed into his sallow skin. So he wept for what was
lost, what he had preserved and for all that had remained unsaid.
When the shadow fell over him, wand held at
attention, he did not bother to raise his face. He knew who had come for him
and he was ready to accept the judgment.
)
Interlude the First (
Malfoy Manor creaked in the ensuing storm
and the highest tower swayed alarmingly in the breeze. Lucius didn't bother to
acknowledge the storm even as it tore at his perfect coiffure. He'd never much cared for the outside,
preferring parlours and bedrooms to forests and parks, but the tower was a
perfect place to escape from his father.
Somewhere below him, the crippled old man
rambled through the corridors looking for someone to vent his rage upon. Father had already had one go at his teenage
son this evening and had gone into a fury when Lucius had the unmitigated gall
to fight back.
Having seen the way the winds were blowing,
the younger Malfoy had beaten a hasty retreat to the tower where no charmed
wheelchair could follow. The rain fell
and splattered against his water-sealed cloak.
The view from the tower was spectacular even in the storm and distantly,
he could make out the neighboring mansion.
Their Christmas party was carrying on later than usual, spilling out
onto the lawns.
Lucius rubbed idly at his bruised arm and
vowed to never hit his heir. No use for
it, only makes one bitter and murderous. If he could get away with it, he would
kill the old bastard in his sleep. There were better ways to control a youth,
other ways to mould the mind.
Tangentially, his thoughts wandered back to
school where, no doubt, Severus was a foot deep in his newest research project
that, if it came to fruition, would act as a powerful truth serum. He could picture in his mind's eye the dark
boy bent over some tome, his hooked nose buried under thick black hair. The common room fire would flicker strange
and alluring shadows on his thin frame, painting him in darkness.
The image was one that never failed to warm
Lucius. It rang with one certainty: Mine. Severus was irrevocably his and he
had no intention of relinquishing him. Love was too abstract to be applied to
the very real relationship that they shared, one of mutual lust and use.
Severus borrowed Lucius' appearance and reputation while the young Malfoy used
the dark boy's knowledge.
Their physical relationship was intense and
thrilling. Unlike anyone else Lucius had
ever bedded, Severus had no limits. The boy allowed Lucius to perform any
amount of rituals on his sallow skin and enjoyed them all. Even better, he
insisted on returning the favor. With Severus' perfected sleep substitute they
were able to spend long luxurious nights in each other's company, carving into
each other with lips, wax and knives. In
the morning, they practiced healing charms on each other until they rose
unmarked and went about their days.
With a sigh, Lucius tossed his blond mane
over one shoulder and rested his chin on the ledge. He missed the other boy. Below him, all was quiet; his father must have
gone to bed. Slowly, he left the storm
and ventured back into the depths of the manor.
)*(
In all of Draco's short but intense life
there had been very few constants. One
was that he was a Malfoy, no matter what happened, no matter what he was
called, that name was always his to lay claim to, even if it was only in the
deepest regions of his mind.
Another was that his father loved him. There was not a single moment that he doubted
that fact. Lucius made a point of telling him in every letter while he was away
and on every return. Their physical affections were delicate and frequent, in a
way that was rare between father and son. They hugged, pressed kisses on pale
cheeks before retiring to bed and leaned over one another, hand on shoulder to
point out this passage in that book or this line in that article.
For many years, Draco had believed himself
to be his father's only love. That they
both lived in their rambling mansion and were each other's constant support. It
was the conceit of a naive child, but it moved him through his life as such
conceits often do.
It was Severus Snape, another mainstay, who
robbed him of this delusion. Draco had
grown up with 'Uncle' Severus, coming to and from the mansion as its most
welcomed guest. No one else was allowed to dine with them in the kitchen
instead of the grand dining halls and no one else came to Lucius' study when
they were enclosed therein.
Draco had always trusted Severus, always
knew it was to him that he would go, should 'something' (this unnamed clause
clutched like ice around his young heart) happen to Father. Not Mother, who
lived in her own world or so far off in
Father would chide Uncle Severus for
telling him such things.
"Really, Severus," he would say,
standing in the door, watching over the two of them with a strange smile on his
face. "You'll give the boy nightmares."
"No!" He would protest. "I'm
not scared at all."
And he wouldn't be, not truly. Because
everything Uncle said was true, but distant and more gross than scary.
Sometimes still, the images would come back to haunt him and he would rise from
his bed, looking for comfort. It was at
nine that he went on one such journey, landing him as always at his father's
door when he heard soft mummers that would impress on him forever.
"Yesss..." A short, hard hiss.
"Please, Sev....."
"Patience" came the sharp
retort. Silently, Draco eased the door
open and found himself facing a scene that would not make sense for many years
to come. His uncle, lying on his stomach and Father leaning over him, bent
strangely and whispering over and over,
"Love you, love you......"
For a week after, he shut his door before
Uncle could come in and wept himself to sleep. But the quiet acceptance was too
much for him, no one questioned him and no one pushed him. So his door was
opened again, but he never again went to his father to be soothed from some
Uncle-induced night fear.
When he finally attended Hogwarts and was
thoroughly admonished to say nothing of his previous relationship with Severus,
Draco had thought it would be easy. As long as he could receive his long
letters from his father and write back replies filled with every anxiety and
hope, then he would survive.
After only a month, he wanted desperately
to be home and safe in the comfort of the Manor. The other Slytherins were
dreadfully dull and slow, compared to the adult conversation he had been raised
on. They cared nothing for knowledge and spoke only of Quidditch or silly
crushes. For the sake of family honor, he spoke to those he was supposed to,
smiled when it was correct to do so, snide when necessary. He tormented Potter and his silly friends
without a second thought; it was nothing more than he had been trained to do
after the rejection of his friendship.
Everything was as it should be. Except that
he was desperately lonely. Uncle Severus, Professor Snape now, with his too
sharp eyes and brutal assessment of human nature, picked it up as soon as it
became almost too much to bare.
"Come now, Mr. Malfoy." He said
after class in late October. "You obviously don't understand why one
shouldn't add alfalfa to a basic sleep potion."
Of course, after years of private tutoring,
Draco knew exactly why not, but he allowed himself to be lead under the faulty
pretext and for the rest of his years at Hogwarts was supported by the
semi-regular afternoon teas.
Even when it became clear that his father
and his uncle had become enemies and Lucius directly ordered him to stop
speaking to 'that man', Draco continued. As he aged, he lost none of his fierce
adoration of the man who had given him life, but he had lost the illusion of
his perfection.
He said none of this to Severus, though the
man obviously knew. They said nothing of
the choice that was rapidly coming upon Draco or where the lines would have to
be drawn between them, given his decision. Mostly, they sipped at tea strong
enough to take enamel off the teeth and Severus lectured him on any variety of
subjects.
It was only over the summer between his
sixth and seventh year that he came to the abrupt and terrifying realization
that he could not become a Death Eater. Almost against his will, Severus had
forced him to have a mind of his own and knew that kissing Voldemort's hem held
no appeal. Muggles, while a hideous plague upon the earth, were too numerous to
pick battle with and Draco was dreadfully tired of loosing.
Out of instinct long engrained, he rose
from his bed and sought his father in his study. The elder Malfoy was still awake, though the
hour was obscenely late. He worked, sleeves pushed up to reveal slender, white
arms that were marred only by his Dark Mark, scratching precisely at some form
or another. It was an image that jarred with another: Severus, dark to Lucius'
light, bent over his desk, sleeves buttoned tightly over the tattoo he
considered an obscenity. How had the two
ever been lovers? How could they not have been?
"What is it, love?" Grey eyes
swept over him, chilling. Old habit had Draco dragging a heavy chair next to
the desk, dropping into it at such an angle that their sides touched. With
delicate fingers he traced the mark that his father so proudly revealed.
"Will you always love me,
father?" He asked, chocked and suddenly afraid.
"You're my son" was the sure and
swift reply. "I can do nothing else."
"You know that I will always love you?" He said softly,
dropping his hand to his side. "That no matter what I do, it won't change
that?"
"Yes." There. It was out between
them now. Might as well see it all the way through.
"Father.... Did you truly love
him?"
There was only one him just as Mother was
the only her. The sudden sharp tension
in Lucius' body pulled harder at Draco's heart and for a long moment, he
wondered if this was the first question of the many that he had put to his
father that would not be answered.
"When you have two magnets, my son,
what happens?"
"They are drawn to each other. If
they're strong enough, they cannot be separated."
"Do the magnets love each other?"
"I...they're magnets. I don't suppose
they feel one way or another about it. They just have to." Draco stared at
the still tense form of his father.
Lucius never spoke in metaphor.
"Just so. Once I had spoken to him, seen what he was
capable of...there was never any choice in the matter. No feeling. I had to be
with him and I had to stay near him. Even now..." Something snapped and
their eyes were both drawn to the broken quill clutched in one fist.
Tenderly, Draco peeled open the fist and
whispered a 'reparo' over the quill. He brushed a kiss against lips he knew
better than his own.
"Come say good night properly
then?"
The invitation hung between them, open as
always, but Lucius made no demands, took what was given to him. Tonight...it might be the last. Bone weary and muddled, he followed his
slight son up the stairs and into the bedroom. The door shut with a resounding
click. In the darkness, they said good
night and good bye.
And so it was that Draco found himself
making amends with Potter, working alongside him in raids and trenches,
wondering if each dawn was heralding his last day on Earth. Every night, he
composed a letter to his father and every morning he burned it. There was
nothing he could say now, nothing that would be changed. It mattered only that
their love was inviolable. Even on that fatal day when Draco led his battalion
against his own beloved home, he knew that Lucius would love him still. In the mad final rushing moments, he saw the
scene on the steps.
Lord of the Manor eternally, Lucius
descended the stairs to greet Severus.
They had stared at each other, locked in some timeless battle that had
nothing to do with words or wands. Aurors, including Draco's own rag tag
soldiers, rushed by them, intent on taking out the generals and propping up
Potter against Voldemort himself.
In a flurry of movement, they had both
drawn their wands and thrown upwards. It was then that Draco had to tear
himself away. There had been oaths sworn
and blood exchanged to ensure that he would be there to protect Potter. They drove him from the scene and pulled him
in.
He did his part, pulling Potter's fat from
the fire and helping him in a chorus to end the life of Tom Riddle. Some clean
up and three cheers for the unconscious hero and the whole pack left,
ransacking a little as they went. Draco
made no move to stop them. Lucius had always said that wealth in only material
things did no one any good. Better to have assets in every corner of the world
that no one could touch. Better to have assets of the mind.
The crowd abated, disapparated and done
with, Draco forced himself to return to the steps. A large part of him believed that they both
must surely be dead because they were so equally matched and determined. It
would have been wrong for one to survive without the other, a hideous
mistake.
To see Severus, weeping silent, hideous
tears was enough to rouse Draco to put him out of his misery. Wand quivering to
attention he strode his teacher's side.
It was the sight of his father's body that
had him dropping his arm limp to his side and moving in one liquid motion to
the ground. He took up one cold hand, the fingers not yet stiff, and pressed
his lips to it.
"Father..."His voice cracked and
broke. The sobs were so fierce they took him by surprise as they rocked through
his body in furious seizures. For a long time, he was sure the very force of
his grief would shake him to pieces.
"Draco..." Unsure, harsh with
tears, Severus voice had nothing of its power. One thin hand was extended
outward, palm up. The younger man stared at it for a long hard minute, trying
to focus through his tears.
He considered breaking every last one of
the proffered fingers and suspected that Severus would make no move to stop
him. Most likely that was what he anticipated. Instead, he grasped it and
pulled himself into the older man's lap. It was a physical affection that
Father had allowed him until he was ridiculously old, but one that Severus
would never have tolerated even when he was a child.
This Severus, broken and shattered, only
pulled him closer and they wept together, the lone mourners of Lucius Malfoy.
)
Interlude the Second (
The years had not worn down the manor or
its master. Lucius stood underneath the same sky with nearly the same face. As
he aged, he found his body betrayed him only in the smallest ways, his face was
still free of wrinkles and his hair the same pure silver as it had been when he
was a boy.
The tower still held appeal to him, now as
he neatly avoided not his father, but his son. Draco had turned into a lovely
young man, the same delicious cream skin as Narcissa and Lucius' own face and
hair. It was almost painful to watch the
fey creature settle into the darkened manor, fitting himself into niches that
had bloody secrets and fingering books that contained multitudes of horrors.
Lucius had never regretted his decision to
become a Death Eater, even thinking of it he lightly touched his Mark and
smiled with pride. He was the general of a great force that would purify the
race and bring the wizarding world back to where it belonged. Yet...he did not wish it for Draco. The boy was not meant for Dark Magics, he was
far too fragile.
True to his promise, Lucius had never
raised a hand to his son and as a result the boy had grown wild as an untended
garden, thriving on the sun of his Father's love and the dark moon of Severus'
influence. In his heart of hearts, Lucius considered Severus Draco's second
parent and was fairly certain the boy felt the same way.
"Father?" The light voice
interrupted his reverie.
"What is it, love?" A sigh parted from his lips and he turned to
embrace the lithe body.
"I was lonely downstairs. What are you looking at?"
"You've been into the sweets
again." There was a small spot of chocolate on his lip.
"Yes.
The House Elves insisted."
So different from the somber, calculating
child Lucius had been. Of course, Draco was far from innocent. Gently, Lucius leaned down and licked the
small dab of chocolate from his child's lip. A moan broke through pale lips and
Draco wrapped his arms around Lucius' neck and deepened the kiss.
Somewhere in the dim back alleys of his
mind, Lucius compared these sweet, giving kisses to the impassioned darkness of
his old friend. He had had dozens of bodies in and out of his bed over the
years, but none would ever remain so present as his own flesh and blood and the
lingering shadow of his closest friend.
)*(
At some point, someone had thought to go
looking for them. It was the Weasley twins who ultimately came and pried them
up and moved the body. Between the two
solid red young men, the Slytherins were hauled home. To Severus' home anyway.
Hogwarts had long since ceased to be Draco's residence. The spare bedroom in the apartments was
forced to make do for the moment.
Out of sheer weariness, Severus allowed
himself to be prodded and guided to bed where he fell in to a deep, disturbing
sleep. His dreams took no particular form though there was the usual screaming
and tedious blood imagery. One would
think that after years of nightmares, there could at least be a little variety.
When his dreams became bad enough to shake
him back to wakefulness, he was all too aware of a long stretch of warmth and a
familiar head of blonde hair, burrowed into one of his pillow.
// Please, sweet Merlin, no. Not again.
//
Far worse then another nightmare was to
believe that reality had given him amiss or that Lucius had learned what
Voldemort could not and resurrected himself.
"Father..." The sleepy bundle
complained, shifting enough to reveal Severus' mistake. The pure horror faded,
replaced with sleepy anger when he realized that he must have been drugged into
sleep. The grit in his eyes was tinted the yellowish green, a sure sign of a
fairly heavy sleeping draught.
"Draco." He pushed sullenly at
the youth. "Get up."
"Mmmm." A low groan and Severus
saw that the youth had been far more heavily drugged then he initially
expected. "Daaaad....come on, you don't have to be in that meeting until
seven....."
And here came the horror again and this
time Severus wasn't sure it could be dispelled.
"Wake up." He commanded in the
voice that had sent more than one strong-willed student packing.
A solid hundred and fifty pound body rolled
completely over him, covering him. The kiss Draco bestowed on him, eyes still
closed, bordered on pornographic. No,
this nightmare was one he definitely wasn't going to wake up from.
//Damn you to the fiery rings of hell,
Lucius. Eternal torment is too good for you. Always the same, I'm left cleaning
up your messes. And what a mess this is.//
Gently, he pried the drugged man from his
body and left him in a tangled heap on the bed, hopefully to sleep it off. The shower revived him somewhat, but being
awake meant having to face the reality of the last day and he wasn't sure if he
could.
The only man he'd ever loved was dead by
his own hand, the only child he had ever given a whit about had been involved
with some bizarre relationship with his father.....somewhere Severus life had
jumped track and at that moment, he would give anything to change it.
For a long moment under the hot jet of the
shower, he reveled in the scenario...go back in time and shake his younger,
melancholy self until his pretentious teeth clattered in his head. Then
perhaps, push him down a flight of stairs for good measure.
It wasn't the first time the thought had
passed through his mind and he spent some time refining for maximum
effectiveness. By the time the water started running cold, he felt marginally
better. Cleaned, he rapidly dressed,
sparing only a glance at the blond lump in his bed, he summoned a house
elf. He had no hunger left in him, but
toast would soak up the residual sleep potion.
There was a note from Dumbledore on his
kitchen table.
Severus,
The school has gone on break to celebrate
the victory and mourn the dead. Please be prepared to return to class in two
weeks. Mr. Malfoy should stay with you until he feels fit to return to Auror
duty. Lucius' funeral is set for this
Saturday at the Malfoy Mausoleum. My condolences to both you and Draco.
-Albus
The note crumpled in his hand, incinerating
on command. Brushing ash from his hand, he set to eating with the mechanical
efficiency he had perfected.
"Do you manage to taste a bite of
it?" The lazy drawl startled him and for a moment //Lucius?//. Draco
again, slumped into one of the other chairs and picking at the tray.
"The funeral is on
Saturday." The remark was off
handed and Draco only nodded slightly.
"You're to remain with me until you wish to return to work."
"I don't wish to."
"Hmm?"
"I don't wish to return to work."
A piece of toast made its way limply to Draco's mouth, hung there for an
instant then was set back on the plate. "I was an Auror, so that I could
help Potter. It's over now."
"What next then?"
"I don't know." The voice
hollowed and ebbed away. "May I use your shower?"
"Yes.
I believe a trunk of your things is in the guest bedroom." It was
the sort of thing Albus would do. There
would be time later for harsher questions and answers. "I have things to
attend to in my classroom. I should be
back in a few hours."
"Severus?"
"Mmm?"
"Thank you. For everything." The
blond clung to the doorway for a moment and then disappeared back into the
depths.
The afternoon was a balm in its normality.
The potions classroom had to be prepared for the short break, volatile
ingredients locked away. It was a
methodical task that required full concentration, but not anything that
required too much thought. It was only as the sun began to wane and the thin light
that managed to filter down to the dungeons departed in favor of the torches
that he began to feel again unsettled.
After long years of experience with a
certain youth and his Invisibility Cloak, Severus had learned to trust his
hunches. He began to hurry along his final preparations. Then his private
wards, the one set to detect his condition on his return from Death Eater
meetings, began to scream. The vial he
dropped made it to the floor just before he made it to his rooms.
)*(
For seven days and nights, Severus sat by
the bed in the Infirmary. He left only briefly for food and hygiene purposes.
He insisted on sleeping there or rather insisted on accidentally falling asleep
when his eyes could no longer remain propped open. After one such occasion, he awoke to the
bizarre sight of Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, sitting on the
thin cot and holding Draco's hand as if that would force more life in him.
"Mr. Potter." He acknowledged
grudgingly. The young man jumped.
"Professor, you're awake." And
then there was a wand at his throat.
"What
in the fuck did you do to him?"
"I assure you, Mr. Potter, that Draco
is here purely on his own."
The
wand eased from his throat. "Did no
one inform you of the situation?"
"No one bothered to tell me where he
was." The voice was not the exuberant youth that had so plagued Severus
over the past nine years, but the chilled one of a man, who had been through
far too much. "I asked around, but no one would say anything. They didn't
fucking know."
"And why should they?" He shifted
uneasily in his chair, rubbing at his neck. Potter let out a long breath and
settled back onto the bed, clutching at one pale hand. "You of all people
should know how Slytherins are thought of."
"He's my second in command, Snape. Did
you know that?" The venom was gone, but the bitterness was thick in the
air. "He did all the strategizing, he made all the plans. He even wrote my
speeches."
"I did not, but I cannot say I'm
surprised. Mr. Malfoy is extremely capable."
"What happened?" A child's voice
now. How many people was Harry Potter exactly? The boy with a thousand faces.
"Can you tell me?"
"It was a miscalculation on my part.
After..." It was still hard to form the thought in his mind let alone get
it past his lips. "I killed Lucius, I collapsed." Close enough to the
truth. "Draco was on hand at the time, so he returned with me to Hogwarts.
He was staying in my rooms...I misunderstood the amount of his grief and left
him for some hours to clean my classroom.
The ingredients were all in my rooms for the potion he wanted, I never
thought I would have occasion to combine them in the way he did...."
"What did he take?"
"Thanatos' Bite."
"But that kills almost
instantly...." So you did learn something in Potions, Severus thought
bitterly. Or perhaps it was on the required list for Auror training. "My wards are adjusted so that if I were
to return...damaged from a meeting then the proper authorities would be
alerted. Draco was not aware of that, thank Merlin. I was able to force the
antidote down his throat before he reached complete death."
"Will he recover?" Potter's
concern seemed genuine enough and wasn't that strange?
"In another few days the poison will
have run its course and he will wake. His mental state is something else
altogether." He shifted uneasily under the intense green gaze.
"He loved his father." Harry
said, breaking the silence that had descended.
He stroked idly at the still fingers.
"I used to make fun of him for it and then once, he snapped. Not
like we used to in school....He left. Walked out, didn't even slam the door.
I've never felt more guilty in my life."
"Lucius had that effect." That
was saying it mildly.
"I think....I think they had something
strange between them. I mean, Mr. Malfoy knew, right? That Draco was going to
fight against him and yet....he still sent letters, nothing about activities,
but like notes. Draco would go to write him back...but he never did, always
burned the letters." Harry sighed and finally moved from Draco's side to
drape himself in a chair.
"They were close." He commented,
if only to stop from lapsing into an awkward silence.
"Yes." Was that jealously?
"If I may inquire, exactly how close
is your relationship with Draco?"
For a moment, the flash of anger painted
Harry into the spitting image of James, but it subsided only to weariness.
"Were you always this perceptive,
Snape? Or is this some new talent?"
"I am not the Head of Slytherin
because of my skills with Potions." He said dryly.
"Yes, well...Let's say I wanted to be
closer, but Draco...." Another curious flash and then Potter stood to
leave. "Promise me that you'll take care of him?"
"I seem to have little other choice.
Lucius will have left him in my care."
The exact line came at the end of the tome
of a document, read at Draco's bedside. Everything went to Draco, except for
monies and property previously promised to Narcissa. The final clause had said:
And to Severus Snape, I leave memories of what was and the knowledge that I saw
my executioner as my only fit rival. To him, I leave my most precious
possession: my son.
"But Draco's above age..." "He's proven himself mentally incompetent."
He had to say it evenly or his rage would pore through all at once. "Which
means he requires a guardian."
"But how could...."
"Lucius was a Slytherin too, Mr.
Potter. And he also knew his son, very well." Too well, but that was not
for anyone else’s ears. Though, he wondered now if Potter had some inkling of
it. "If you so desire, I will keep you posted on his progress."
"I would like that very much. Thank
you, Professor."
And the boy was gone. Severus was certain
that the stench of unrequited love would not leave the stifling room for
several days.
"Well, Draco," Not for the first
time, he addressed the unconscious man,
"it
seems you have come up in the world. Lord of Malfoy Manor and Harry Potter's
lust object all in one week."
The remark met only with silence, but by
now he was used to it and with a sigh, settled where Harry had been moments
before and took up the fragile hand for himself. Smaller than Lucius' and just as delicate.
Restless, he laid it back on the cover and went in search of a House Elf. It
wouldn't do to faint away of hunger.
When he returned, Draco had moved a little
in his deep sleep and dislodged the blankets.
It provoked the memory of the last conversation he'd had with Lucius,
before they met on the manor steps.
They'd been standing in the doorway of
Draco's bedroom, the night before the boy returned to Hogwarts for his fifth
year. The boy was fast asleep, his hair disarrayed against the pillow and
twitching, caught in some dream.
"He's going to beat Potter this year,
if it kills him." Lucius had smirked, leaning against Severus, trusting
the other man to hold him up. "My
beautiful determined son."
"Did you ever tell him about your
rivalry with James?"
Lucius snorted.
"What, and let him think that he has
no life of his own? I'm not blind, Severus. The boy strives to become my equal
in all things, but he's already chafing to find something that's only
his." Gently, he closed the door
and guided them back to the master bedroom where Severus had reluctantly agreed
to spend the night. Already his heart was heavy with the abandonment that was
about to come to fruition. "He
is very different from you, Lucius."
"Perhaps." They walked steadily
through the long, carpeted halls underneath the watchful eyes of silver
ancestors. "Where he differs from me, he is your mirror image. Do you know
how often I've caught him at his cauldron this summer? He wants to know
everything about anything. "
"What will you do if he does not
follow you in all things?"
The question settled between them,
tightening the air and bringing both of their hearts to a fever pitch. Lucius
whirled on him, shoving the taller man into the wall.
"I love my son more than anyone or
thing in the world, Severus, and nothing he could do would change that."
He knows, Severus realized belatedly, staring into the flashing grey eyes. He
knows that I've betrayed the cause and he knows that Draco will do the same.
"Why haven't you killed me?"
The grip on him loosened and he slumped
against the wall.
"Get out." The command came
through gritted teeth. "Get out of my house."
"Why, Lucius?"
"Get. Out." Wisely, Severus
gathered himself together and prepared to apperate out. "One last
thing." Dark eyes locked with grey for one last intense glare.
"Protect him."
In the rush that followed, Severus had
forgotten that command, but he remembered it now. At first, he'd assumed it
meant from the greater outside world, but he knew now....
"He meant this." He stared at the
pale young man.
"He meant it for both of us."
Choking harsh words from a weeks worth of silence emerged. Draco convulsed, his body rejecting the last
of the potion. "That manipulative snake. He's bound us to each
other."
)
The Last (
The loose strands of the complex spell he
had woven around locks of silver and black hair fell into place and bound them
together into an inseparable braid.
Judiciously, Lucius used tongs to place the braid in the locked draw of
his desk in the office he'd built into the tower several years ago. It was the
first place Draco was sure to look after Severus roused him to go back to the
manor.
Lucius hated loose ends. With a flourish,
he finished penning his will and had it sent to his solicitor’s office
immediately. Outside, the forces were amassing against him and his Lord, among
them the only two people he had ever truly trusted. Severus would kill him, of
that he was sure. The spells and hexes in Lucius' arsenal were almost all of
Severus' finding and the darker man was far too Slytherin to have shared all
his secrets. It would be a vicious battle, but Severus would win.
Draco would attempt to kill himself, the boy
had promised as much in his last visit.
Luckily, Severus was far too much the martyr to let Draco do himself in.
The two would be forced into some sort of co-dependence and in some fashion
survive. Good enough.
His own death barely bothered him. Life had
worn him down and nothing but sheer perversity and Draco's persistence had kept
him alive this long. Once, his faith in Voldemort and a better world had forced
him to persevere, but it had become apparent over the years that their side was
doomed to fail.
So he'd done what he could to ensure his
child's future and now it was time to meet his doom. With Malfoy poise and
pride emanating from him, he descended his main staircase to meet his demise.