Survive
How could he have been so stupid!
The painful stretching of his stringy black hair as it caught under the upward thrust of his shoulders felt like fire, and he screwed up his eyes against the pain.
"Open your eyes boy!" Snarled the man before him; spit spraying Severus's youthful face.
"Ogden, no! Please, oh goddess please don't, not Severus, not again!" The spindly, pale woman had her hands to her mouth, tears streaming down cheeks; the left one, marked by her husband's hand.
"Watching your tongue, Nallya or I'll teach you to!" The two fists in his robes lifted him higher before slamming him forcefully against the wall yet again. "And you! You whine and snivel about that Black boy!" His father's face contorted and his voice made a mocking attempt at mimicking his earlier statement. "'I couldn't, father, he disarmed me.'" His head slammed into the wall once again, his vision dimming while his father's words fought for voice against the ringing in his ears. "Magic is in the wand! The curses are in the wand, not that pathetic potions crap you find so fascinating! You dishonor my blood Severus, and if I have to, I'll beat the lessons into you yet again, until you get them right!"
It was coming. He'd known all along the beating would come. He hadn't had a choice, McGonnagall had sent him home that holiday with the reprimand notice for dueling in the hallway--more like defending himself against Black and Potter! The note had to be signed, and the anti-forgery charm on it prevented anyone but a parent from signing it. He'd been trying to give it to his mother when the man he was forced to call father came through the door and saw what was going on. He'd snatched the paper right out of his mother's desperate hands, and her meek protests had earned her the first mark of the evening. He knew the moment he spoke in his own defense it had been a mistake. Now the fists would commence.
"Let him go, father."
NO!
His onyx eyes caught and held those blue ones in the doorway, and silently he screamed for her to run, to flee, to get away before the man before them could turn around--before their father could react.
Morganna was exceptionally beautiful. Long flowing black hair framed high cheekbones, full lips and wide honest eyes. She was tall and slender, like one of those long extinct dark elves his mother had once whispered stories about. She was cloaked in the muted green and silver of her once school house, and the dark hatred that had been steadily building in her since she could understand the difference between right and wrong. Proud, beautiful, and deadly, Morganna Snape, his beloved sister with the Slytherin cunning to know when to remain silent and when to strike, now held her Mahogany 11 and 2/3 inch wand with the serpent's skin core aimed directly at their father's back. Her hand did not shake in the slightest.
"Morganna, NO!" Screamed their mother still cowering in the corner of the dark, suffocating den, her figure streaked with shadow and candle light. But Morganna spared her not even a twitch of taunt muscle, and Severus knew--knew as only he could know--Morganna did not plan to hesitate this night.
His father's head, those black, flashing eyes, turned to stare at the pride and joy of his sick little world. But Morganna wasn't looking at their father, her eyes were fixed plainly on his, as if memorizing his look of terror and dawning understanding. And then, as was Morganna's loving fashion when they were alone together, she offered her little brother a smile, and a quick wink.
"Put the wand down, Morganna, you don't want to get daddy angry, now do you princess?" The coiling undertones were present in the drawl of his voice, the cold fury behind his obsidian eyes, and the way his fists clenched even tighter against the fabric of Severus's robes.
Morganna, eyes just as cold, just as calculating, smirked the Snape's trademark sneer, a look that diminished her beauty but didn't erase it. "Perhaps I do indeed, father. Perhaps I wish very much for you to get, very, very, very angry with me." She paused, pretending to think for a moment. "Then again, maybe I just want you to do what you're told for once. Now put down my brother."
He couldn't stand it, he knew what was coming next. He whimpered, his fifteen year old body shaking with an all consuming terror. "Morganna--"
"Silence!" His father rounded back on him again, shaking him like a rag doll and pounding his skull against the wall, rattling the portraits that looked on in hopeless fear for him.
From behind their father, Morganna made a tisking sound. "Temper father, temper." Their mother moaned in the corner and slid down the bookshelf into a massive heap of wine colored robes.
Their father tensed, that single vein by his temple ticking, twitching, beating to a pulse the likes Severus had never seen. "You think I'm prepared to be mocked by my own blood; by my own daughter?" Once again, his father turned to look at his dark angel sister.
There was a punctuated pause, and then Morganna gave a wicked and hollow laugh. "Yes, father, I very much think you should prepare for that, and quite a bit more. You see, I've succeeded in becoming exactly what you wanted me to become." The candle light flicked darkly in her eyes, "I've become something beyond even your wildest dreams." Her mouth broke into a slow, cruel smile, the barest hint of teeth flashing between lips. "Now let my brother go, or I'll make you."
He could remember waking up in the middle of the night, his sister's hands grabbing him from the bedcovers and carrying him to the secret place. It happened so often it seemed nightly; she'd stand on tip toes and rap the old portrait of their great-great grandfather three times. He'd come running from the study, his usually sever face softening to near Hufflepuff standards, as he'd whisper for them to be quite before swinging open so they could sneak into the crawl space behind. She was only five years older than he was, but she'd rock them both softly, humming soothingly when they heard the sound of breaking glassware or the telltale sounds of fists slamming against defeated flesh. Through it all, she was his savior, his only joy in a world stripped to black and white. She was every ounce of happiness he had in the entire world.
"Make me?" Whispered his father, those fists shaking. His voice rose then, "Make me, you say? You think a mere child can make Ogden Snape do anything? Arrogant, my leniency has made you arrogant, Morganna. I'll soon rectify my own mistake." One hand released the front of Severus's robes, and he slid down the wall a little now, the back of his head pounding to the beat of his terrified heart.
His father took a half step away from him, turning to face his only daughter, one iron wrought hand still clinging tightly to the front of Severus's robes.
And then he saw it. It was fleeting, nearly invisible but none the less real--despite her show of steeled confidence, Morganna was afraid. He knew because he'd seen it happen a hundred times in their childhood, trapped behind that portrait. Her left hand, the one that lay so casually against her side, had clenched, her long, sharp fingernails sinking into her palm.
She was braver than he'd ever be, braver than Black or Potter or even Dumbledore. She was everything in the world to him. So he lunged.
Long spindly arms swung up and wrapped around his father's neck pulling him backwards, pulling his back against his own chest. "MORGANNA!" His father struggled, the back of his head slamming backwards, and the sickening sound of breaking cartilage was heard before Severus tasted blood. He didn't care, didn't give a damn, as his father's elbow drove backwards into his nearly mended ribs, breaking the bones again; once again at the hands of his father. "MORGANNA!" He screamed, his mind swimming with pain and the near euphoric knowledge that something very definite was going to conclude this night. "DO IT!"
Hogwarts had taught them many things, all of which their father was better, faster, and more deadly with. They'd agreed one night, over Severus's first Christmas holiday at Hogwarts, that they'd split the difference and excel. Morganna, already to far ahead had taken charms; he the newly minted Slytherin, would take potions. He brewed poisons and taught her how, she learned the unforgivables, and shared what she could.
This however, was not one of the ones she'd been able to share with him.
Without rush, without preamble, as if savoring every drop of hatred that was required to cast such a spell, Morganna said calmly:
"Avada Kedavra."
Equally without ceremony, Severus allowed his father's body to slip from between the circle of his arms. When he looked up, it was into those smiling liquid pools of joy that must have mirrored his own.
The bastard was dead.
In the corner of the room, he saw a shadow rise, and both he and Morganna turned to watch their mother stand, her posture straight. She looked at no one, but instead turned and walked calmly to the door behind Morganna, and disappeared down the hallway. Her tears had stopped.
He jerked, his eyes once again meeting his sisters, but this time, there was something different in them, a dawning realization that every action bears consequence. She flexed her arm, her wand pointing at the body. "They'll know I performed an unforgivable, Severus, they're coming for me even as we speak."
It took him a moment to register what she'd said, and then in a blinding flash of terror his father's fists could never have produced, he understood. "T-they'll take you to Azkaban…"
His sister nodded, lowering her wand. Her eyes fell to the crumpled heap that had been their father. "I don't mind, Severus. Really, I don't. It was worth it, I think; worth it to know that I'm the one that did it, and not you. Worth it that you're safe now." She looked up again and smiled, though he could clearly see the tears floating in her eyes. "I'm just sorry I couldn't get anyone to believe me Severus. I-I wish I didn't have to leave you alone." She paused for a moment, then shook herself slightly, cracked a soft smile and then closed the distance between them, both in the physical and metaphysical. "Come here Sev, let me see that nose of yours. Ouch…broken bad, and I'm terrible at healing charms aren't I? Well, nothing for it, let me give it a go." She muttered a tinkling charm under her breath, and Severus felt the warmth of the spell seep into the damaged tissue.
One of her small hands touched his cheek and he realized he'd closed his eyes. "It's not the best I'm afraid, maybe mother can fix it for you later, you know how good she is at these things…" She trailed off, her fingertips brushing lightly across his cheek.
"Severus," he looked up at her. "We did what we had to do to survive. Never forget that, never let anyone tell you different. We tried everything we could to get people to believe us, but no one did. We're Slytherins, Sev, no matter what people say, we're survivors. You're a survivor!" Then she tipped up onto her toes and kissed him lightly on the mouth. When she pulled back, the fear of time was in her eyes, but so was an odd look of serenity, of acceptance. "Don't worry about Black or Potter. Life has a way of making things right, Severus. The choices we make, make us who we are, for good or bad. Black and Potter will get theirs, just like you'll get yours."
But her words floated on the surface of his mind, refusing to sink in, refusing to settle so that he was forced to hear what could be the last words she ever spoke to him. He refused to give her up!
"We'll run!" He said, his long thin hands grabbing onto her arms, shaking her. "We'll run, leave the country, no one will ever find us--"
She shook her head, the look of an older sister scolding her little brother coming upon her face. "You can't run from Aurors, Severus, you know that. They find you, wherever you are, that's what makes them so damn annoying." And she smiled in a nearly childish way. "But that was a good thought."
He refused to give up, to give her up. "We'll fight them! You know unforgivables, and I've got more than your average poisons upstairs. We'll fight them, together--"
But Morganna simply shook her head and smiled up at him again. "You can't fight them off forever, eventually they win. It's alright, Sev, really. I accepted this a long time ago. As long as you're alright, I don't really care what happens to me." She stepped forward, her cheek coming to rest against his collarbone.
With a sudden, crushing grip, he pulled her to him, his hands clutching desperately at her, holding her tightly, tears falling when none had fallen in years and years. His voice was choked when he spoke into her magnificent hair. "I-I can't lose you. I can't."
"I quite agree, Master Snape, losing your sister would be such a waste of pure wizarding talent." Both siblings jerked to attention, Morganna swinging around, her wand suddenly raised to defend her brother.
In the doorway, stood a very handsome middle aged man in the finest robes money could buy; beside him, stood their mother her eyes looking anywhere but them.
Morganna spoke first, "Who are you? Auror? I won't fight you, but I killed this man, not my brother or my mother."
The man in the doorway smiled, taking a step into the room. "Chivalry, a trait more suited to Gryffindors, don't you think?" He smiled handsomely at them, but Severus could feel the undercurrent of power in the room; this man was dangerous.
Morganna's eyes shifted from the man to her mother and back again. Then she cocked a sneering smile at him. "I think I asked who you were, now would be an excellent time to tell me." Her wand was still pointed at the man's chest.
He smiled, opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it suddenly when the first of the Aurors apparated into the den. The man was tall and imposing, dark black skin shadowed his features and emphasized his eyes as they found Morganna. His deep voice filled the silence, "You! You there girl!"
From behind the Auror came the words that at once thrilled him, and sickened him.
"Avada Kedavra."
The Auror dropped dead where he stood. Both Morganna and he turned back to the man whose wand had just slain their enemy.
…the enemy of my enemy…
"Who are you?" Whispered Morganna, and the sound frightened Severus more than even those two destructive words which caused instant death. His dark angel sister was afraid.
The man tucked his wand back into his sleeve and smiled. "I have many names, young one. But for now I am known as Lord Voldemort, but most importantly, I am the one person in the world who can keep you out of Azkaban for this," he looked down at their dead father, "most justified slaying of filth. To purposely harm such talented children as yourselves, it is a crime I would have punished in the same manner."
But Morganna had raised her wand again, this time, her hand shook, her arm shook, her entire body shook as she stared at the man before them. "M-mother…mother, what have you done?"
But it was Lord Voldemort who answered. "She has come to me and asked that I shelter you as she could not, protect you as she never could. Come with me, Morganna, I will protect you from the Aurors and those who seek to hunt you down for an act of justice they cannot understand."
But Morganna was shaking her head, backing away from this man before them, pushing her back against Severus's front, and likewise pushing him back against the wall. Her voice shook badly when she spoke, and Severus felt the first inklings of fear trickle into his blood. "I've heard about you…they talk about you like you're a god. You preach like he did," and they all knew she meant the man lying dead at her feet. "That only the purest of bloodlines can control the magical world. No," she shook her head again, pressing further against Severus. "No, I don't agree, I won't agree, and I won't go with you."
The man made no gesture, no indication whatsoever just said in a very flat monotone voice, "Then you will die, Mistress Snape. Azkaban will kill you as it has so many others before you."
And suddenly, he couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let his sister waste away into nothing when she'd done the right thing--the only thing they'd had left to do! He couldn't let the Auror's take her, force her into Azkaban, take her away from him.
She was his world.
His hand latched onto her arm and he swung her around until her unnaturally pale face was staring up into his. And she knew, she knew like they always knew what the other was really thinking. "I can't, Severus."
"Yes you can," he rasped, his throat thick with desperate tears to make her understand. "You have too, Morganna, you can't go to Azkaban, he's right, that place will kill you."
She shook her head. "I'd rather die."
And then he said the one thing they both knew, and yet had never spoken aloud.
"You're my world, Morganna; I can't lose you."
At the admission, everything else was decided. A lifetime of fear, of having only each other, of begging for help and receiving none, only to crawl back to each other and heal as best they could. It was fifteen years of terror and a love only the closest of siblings could share. Their bond, their love, their hope.
She smiled up at him, her hand drifting to his cheek, so that her fingertips brushed the silky strands of black hair from his too old face.
Then she nodded.
Because he was her world too, and she couldn't lose him either.
She drew back, stepped over the body of their dead father, and then backed blindly to the side of the man who now controlled their lives more than their father ever had--the difference was, they were going to let him.
Lord Voldemort pointed to a small trinket on one of the shelves and muttered the portkey charm, then indicated that Morganna should touch it and be on her way.
With a nod she walked towards it, and poised her hand to touch it, her fingertips mere inches. "Slytherins," she said over her shoulder, "are survivors, Severus. Be a survivor, survive, and when the time is right, when there's no turning back," she looked up at him, her eyes burning with meaning. "Survive again." Then she touched the portkey and disappeared.
Looking down at the remains of his father, at the fallen Auror, and then at his wasted mother, he turned to Voldemort and sealed his fate. "Keep my sister alive, and my life is yours to command." He knew what he was saying, knew, understood and accepted his fate.
The man smiled an equally knowing smile and then apparated.
Ten minutes later the house was crawling with Aurors, all demanding to know what had happened. He told the same story over and over again, never deviating.
"Morganna did what no one else would do. She came into the room, cast the death curse and then left."
Never, not in ten years, not until Morganna died finally during a Death Eater raid by Aurors, did Severus Snape go to Albus Dumbledore and tell a different story. Not until his promise to Lord Voldemort, his life debt, was paid.
Keep my sister alive, and my life is yours to command.
Be a survivor, survive, and when the time is right, when there's no turning back, survive again.