Demons Inside Me
Introduction
Screams. The pitiful cries of Muggles and Mudbloods poisoned the air and pierced the midnight sky. Chaos reigned supreme. Cruelty was this night's master. Lights came on in windows. Doors flew open and terrified people ran out into the streets, destroyed before they could take more than a few steps. In the streets, in their beds asleep, running outside to the commotion-- they were killed as soon as their existence was made clear.
Figures in cloaks paraded monotonously down the street, breaking down doors, killing everyone they saw as unworthy of sharing the same air as themselves in this world. Men, women, and children. In their eyes, however, the Death Eaters, saw them lower than animals, the infected bodies that needed to be cut away-- cut away until only the clean remained. Only the Purebloods in the Magical World.
A tall, trembling girl grabbed her sister's hand. "Please, you must hurry!" She pleaded with her, pulling her down a flight of stairs as quickly as her long legs would carry her. It was too late; the front door cracked as someone endowed it with a fierce kick. She heard them cursing as Alohomora ceased to work on the ward that she kept on the house. More cracking was heard as she and her sister flew down the hallway. Shaking, her eyes dilated in terror, she looked for somewhere to hide.
She barely had the door open when two figures stormed inside at long last. Both were tall, obviously bent on their objective to destroy whoever lived there. They had their wands in their hands, ready to carry out their mission.
She held onto her sister tight, who was already crying against her hip. "What do you want?" she asked them with a courageous tone to her voice. She was highly tempted to reach into her pocket and pull out her wand, but she knew she would be killed instantly… and she couldn't bare to leave her sister alone.
"Ah yes… Miss de Demonaux… I thought by my research this was where I would find you… and your sister. Both of you Mudbloods after all, you must have anticipated this little visit," said the older Death Eater, his hood covering his face. His voice was confident. He seemed to enjoy this as though it were nothing more than a hobby.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"I don't think that would matter… but you may be interested in my brother here beside me. Severus, would you like to do the honors here? After all, I've taken the last two. How greedy of me…"
"Severus… Severus Snape!" she said coldly. "I should have known what you would have become! Father always told me--"
The silent man beside him went rigid.
"Your father was a git… stupid… he was even worse than you… even filthier… never even wielded a wand… or studied magic… only meddled into the Ministry… thought he was helping. I enjoyed his death… a simple Unforgivable was much too unfit for him… No, he deserved something agonizing… something so much more enjoyable for me." He acted as though he were about to continue, but he was interrupted.
"Shut up! Shut up! My father never did anything wrong! He never hurt anyone! Get out of my house!" she screamed, pulling out her wand. Before she had a chance to chant any words at all, he shouted, "Expelliarmus!" As her wand flew across the kitchen, he flashed a deadly smile and his eyes shimmered with a look so wicked. He was done playing with her. "Stupefy!"
The younger sister screamed as the older sibling was hit with something indescribable, falling backwards limp, her eyes opened fully. "Diana! Diana!" cried the little girl, sobbing. The chanter of the curse smirked and turned to his companion.
"Shall we leave her? Kill her? What would you like to do?" he asked impatiently, turning to his companion.
"It would be quite useless to kill her now, wouldn't it, Cerberus? You always seemed to be a man who enjoyed suffering to its full extent. She's much too… young," Severus replied, staring into the little girl's eyes. "Perhaps you should wait."
Cerberus stared longingly at the temporarily paralyzed body of Diana. "Mobilicorpus." Her body drifted into the air, floating wherever he wished it to. "Ah yes. Very good thinking, my friend. Let her soak in the misery of the first eighteen years of her life… of having no one… of being alone… scarred. And then," he laughed slightly, breaking his words. "she will meet the same fate as her sister… and their bloodline will forever be… forgotten."
C h a p t e r O n e
B e h i n d T h e C l o s e d D o o r
Severus Snape sat there, consumed in his own thoughts. He seemed in a trance, staring at the olive curtains as though someone were to burst through them at any given moment. He was frozen as a chilling emotion swept him over as he searched his soul, remembering all of the horrifying memories he had once taken so easily. His life had been a waste for the past several years, and he thought he would never be given a chance to be saved once more.
He had been proven wrong, of course, after pleading for forgiveness to Albus Dumbledore. He remembered begging, with tears swelling in his eyes, on his knees on Dumbledore's office floor. He had known what a terrible mistake he had made far before that however. And so, the Death Eater was given a second chance. Things hadn't been too late after all. He just had to swallow his enormous pride and allow someone to pity him. He had been the only person to see Severus in such a state of feebleness.
He bit his lip, thinking of his pathetic memory--the way he had came crawling back that way. However, deep down he knew it was the right thing to have done.
He was at home now, sitting up in his old room. It was pointless to find a home just yet, for he had been accepted for his application to teach at the former school he attended: Hogwarts. He would be taking up lodging there soon for the entirety of the term.
The wood of the steps cracked as he slowly made his way down them. Even something so easy as walking, Severus made it look elegant and difficult to do. He never seemed at peace. He always had a wrinkle in-between his eyebrows as if something was upsetting him for existing. By all means, he was not a pleasant looking person. He was not a happy man. And in his thoughts, he knew he never would be and accepted it. Still, knowing his life was turning around, he couldn't help but feel more content than he had ever felt. He almost felt his stone like face crack slightly into a smile; then he saw her.
The potential smile disappeared into his cold glare once more. There she was, sitting in the Snape's living room, making herself at home, yet awkwardly so. She looked around the room seeming slightly frightened of being there. Severus motioned to turn back around and haul himself quickly back up the stairs before he was noticed.
He was too late. Before he could hardly turn a younger boy had grabbed him by the wrist with a wide smile on his face. "Severus… Sorry, mate, caught you before you could get away! I want you to meet someone, then you can go do whatever it is you do up there all day in that dreary room o' yours," he said cheerily. He had no choice.
The two of them walked back into the family room where the girl sat solemn and alone. Severus tried to appear nonchalant, though he was finding it a bit difficult, even with his usual stiff demeanor. As he stepped into the room, she looked at the younger boy first with a real smile, then at Severus with an obviously fake, but polite, one.
"Divera, this is my brother Severus. Severus, this is my girlfriend Divera," he said happily.
"Hello," she said to him, smiling plastically. "Nice to meet you."
It took him a moment to respond, standing there like a pole, staring at her. "Pleasure," he replied rather coldly. Her fake smile disappeared at his apparent unwillingness to speak to her as well. Severus kept looking at her, a part of him surprised that she hadn't recognized him, another part of him delighted she hadn't seemed to.
As the two stared each other down, the other boy seemed to feel a bit unnerved and regretful of bringing Severus downstairs. "Well," he choked on his words. "my brother here is going to be a teacher at Hogwarts this year, Divera… Potions Master. Signed up for Defense Against the Dark Arts… 'fraid he didn't get it though… No matter, though, the ol' chap's just as good in both." He laughed nervously.
"Oh." She was obviously un-amused. "Interesting." Severus couldn't tell if she was simply miserable or nothing more than a cold-hearted witch. Either way, she seemed to want to have his brother alone to her.
"Dorian, I highly doubt this girl cares about my future, so I think I shall retire back to my bedroom… If you don't mind of course," he told him in his voice of steel.
"Oh…" Dorian seemed slightly confused and hurt that he had made the mistake of introducing the two. "Well alrigh' then." Severus shot another glance over at Divera as he sped around, his robes billowing as he walked arrogantly back upstairs. "You mustn't mind my brother… he's a bit… antisocial. Up in that room all day long. Hardly ever see 'im. Always was a bit strange…" He looked over at Divera who was staring in the spot where she had last seen Severus' feet disappear out of sight. "Alrigh'?"
"Yes, yes, I'm fine…" she continued staring. "Just something about him… was familiar… like I had seen him before… but I can't think of when."
"Nah, I highly doubt you 'ave… Like I've said, never goes anywhere with anybody. Well, I remember when he was always gone… never here… won't tell us where he was all this time." He paused. "But anyway, how was your trip here? Got through the Network alrigh' did you?"
"Oh yes, just fine."
"I can't wait till you get to meet some of my friends from Hogwarts. Too bad you have to go to Beauxbaton."
"Yes, but it's a fine school. Stuffy, and my French isn't nearly as good as my English, but I get along fine, I suppose. I figure I'd like it much more over here." She sighed. "I'm afraid I haven't got much choice though. My only relative left was French… so I didn't have much of a choice."
"Of course. Well, if it were up to me you could live here with me. That is, if you wouldn't mind Severus' constant lurking about like a phantom… Erks my friends sometimes when they're over…"
Severus sat at the top of the stairs, feeling a bit hurt and guilty, listening to them talk. It didn't injure him too badly, as he was so accustomed to being undervalued by everyone, even his family. He might as well had been alone too.
He thought about Divera. Those gray eyes of hers were the same, only terror wasn't dwelling in their depths this time that he stared into them. She couldn't have been more than 13 or 14, but she still seemed to have the maturity of an adult.
At least much more than Dorian had. Dorian was kind and popular and handsome… everything he wasn't. He seemed to always have "Exceeding Expectations" or "Outstanding" on everything and never made a mistake out on the quidditch pitch. He was the Captain of the Ravenclaw team, and he seemed to be appreciated by everyone in school because of it.
It had been at least five years since their last meeting. She had been eight… he had been eighteen. He grew lost in thought, staring at the flickering candle on the wall far in front of him. He remembered it far too well… watching his older brother take away her sister, who ceased to exist today. He was afraid to think of how much suffering she had gone through while in his control. Mostly it was Cerberus to blame, but he himself was no hero either.
He always thought it so bizarre how the three brothers all turned out so different.
He thought of this as he walked along the creaky upstairs hallway that went past
everyone's bedrooms. At the end was a door that seemed to have been still for so long. It was the room only his mother used to go into. It was the room the three brothers grew up playing inside, holding so many memories. It was more of a shrine than anything. Curiosity overtook him and he walked toward the door, laying his hand upon the golden knob that was the key to its entrance. He took a sharp breath and stepped in.
It was icy cold and the strong, cumbersome scent of dust and sheer discomfort took over. A small ray of light filtered in through the curtains, displaying all of the particles drifting through the unnerving atmosphere that was living in that room. He shut the door carefully behind him, stepping in apprehensively.
Why am I in here?
A shiver went up his spine as he stood there motionless. As his eyes grew used to the dim light, he began to peer around him at the hideous memories. The first thing that caught his sight were cobwebs draping from the ceiling; some nearly touched the floor. The shimmer of picture frames also was obvious. The floor moaned underneath his feet, creaking as he took his steps. His weight burdened their age and they seemed just as unwilling to be there as he did. He clutched his hands around his arms, trying to get warmer in the chill of the air. He walked forward in a sort of awe, still uncertain why he had walked inside. Lost in a deep thought, he hit his shin against something, biting his lip to keep from cursing. Something compelled him to stay as quiet as possible, as though he might wake something long undisturbed in the eerie depths of the room. He looked half blindly down and felt around and discovered a rocking chair. He didn't unclench his teeth from his bottom lip as his quivering fingertips brushed over the dust-coated arm of the wooden chair-- they bit down harder. Slowly he backed away, once again drawn to the shelf under all of the pictures. He finally approached after what felt like the intensity of much less time than it had actually felt.
He looked from left to right, trying to take in the memories as fast as he could to get it over with. The first picture was of his brother, Dorian, who was only very little. Then another of Dorian. Then another of Dorian. Then a photo of Cerberus and Dorian.
He looked at the picture of Cerberus more closely than those of Dorian's, as he had more of a strange connection with him than Dorian had, and it wasn't a pleasant one at that. The two older brothers had more of a dark outlook on life, and they shared a silent hatred for most things. That was their only bond that held them together. He stared at his brother, taking in his pale, ghostly figure. Cerberus looked like an angel: a haunted, demented, mutilated angel. He stared back at him from the picture, smiling smugly with his wide mouth, looking with those nearly clear eyes he had with only one blue spot drowning in their depths of nothingness. His hair too was as white as the snow. He was shrouded in dark clothing, keeping the bright sunlight away from him, as he was outside teaching Dorian to ride a broom. Something had happened to him-- he seemed to have no pigment in him whatsoever. Just that one blue spot in his left eye. It was as unexplainable as to why he was there now, thinking these things. Of course, in the picture Severus was nowhere to be seen.
He looked at the next picture. The pale figures of both Cerberus Snape and Lucius Malfoy smiled, at their second year at Hogwarts. Both were decked in all green and silver, looking happy and proud to be where they were. Severus sneered looking at them both.
The next picture was the largest of all of them and was also the one covered in the most dust. He slowly began to wipe away the dust from the photograph. He was a bit relaxed to know that it was no surprise to be seeing: he was thirteen or so in the photo, half hidden by who he guessed to be the figure of Cerberus in front of him with his hand misleadingly upon Dorian's shoulder. He brushed away more dust. He saw his father, who really meant nothing to him. He was somewhere in the house, wasting away sitting in a chair somewhere. He never paid attention to really any of the boys other than Dorian. Then, he made a shaking gesture and wiped away one streak of dust from somewhere close beside his father. He froze, rather terrified. Two black eyes stared back, un-life-like. They seemed to look into his soul, asking him a question.
Why?
It was a question he couldn't answer. He didn't know how to. He backed away slowly, still staring at the eyes of his mother, suddenly haunting his presence. He glanced to the mirror behind the pictures, seeing his reflection he hadn't noticed before, expecting to see someone behind him. Suddenly the nightmare flashed before him in his imagination, but he felt as though he were watching it in the mirror as if it were the reflection from behind him. He walked backward as fast as he could, toppling over the rocking chair he had forgotten about and onto the floor. He wasted no time recognizing any pain, but sprung up as fast as he could, terrified of nothing. He grappled with the doorknob and slammed the door behind him, pushing himself away from it and staring, as though someone were to rush out any second and pull him back inside. He stood there for quite some time until his breathing slowed down.
He walked into the bathroom, trembling uncontrollably. He looked into the safer bathroom mirror at himself. It was familiar, yet had no meaning to him. He was pale-- nearly as pale as his older brother. Dust clung to his greasy hair where he had fallen onto the hardwood floor. He immediately removed his tarnished robes and threw them aside next to the bathtub.
Looking at it, he charmed it so that water soon began to fill it. He removed the rest of his clothes and walked into the water, not realizing it was scalding hot. He laid there motionless, staring at the ceiling as the water rose until all that was left was his nose and unopened eyes above the water. And, with one huge breath, he let himself sink in.
In his mind it was dark and dreary-- but far more peaceful now that he had taken refuge in the warm, sterile bathroom. He listened to the sound of the water… all of the little sounds it magnified. Still, he couldn't help but drift off into thought before he noticed he was going to drown if he didn't come up to breathe. It was like an extremely quick nightmare as images flashed before his mind… a nightmare of the phantom in that dusty, dreary room… and the ghostly figure that seemed to sit downstairs in his living room.
