Seashells, Violets and Lace Gloves

By flower-in-the-ashes

Summary for Seashells, Violets, and Lace Gloves:

With no opportunities to come out in everyday life, and fearing the reactions of the Death Eater society she has found herself trapped inside of out of pure pressure and little choice, closeted demisexual trans woman Severus Snape meets two people at an underground queer party scene and finds her life changing in unexpected ways. With tensions mounting, and her survival threatened from all sides, what will Severus do when confronted with a new and unique love?

Set when Severus is a budding Death Eater at age 18, forced into the life via a need for survival and social pressures from peers like Lucius Malfoy.

A/N: TW misgendering in the end


Chapter One: An Unsatisfied Soul

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her./Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long./Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms/Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her./mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido

-Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair/Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada,

poema #20,

"Tonight I Can Write"/Puedo escribir esta noche


Severus Snape didn't know why she kept the tiny photographs in the decrepit old locket. Like so many nights, she had taken it out of its special box, cleaned the chain, and removed the contents from inside each section. She gently smoothed the creases to see the entire image;

It depicted one of the sunny summer weeks before Hogwarts in which Lily went to her grandmother's. She had invited Severus, and the two of them, as well as her grandmother and her grandmother's old, spotty cat, Marmalade, all sat grinning in the garden, tending to the tomato plants at that particular moment. All the humans wore green gloves, floppy sun hats, and tan outdoors aprons, kneeling on knee pads and holding their own tools. Severus and Lily both wore flowered sundresses. Ever since Lily told her Nana that Severus had no dresses, her Nana, protesting that all girls should have at least one dress, even poor ones, started buying them matching outfits. The ever kindly woman had taken one look at Severus and known, and from then on she had been endeared to the little girl. The shiny rubber gardening shoes and trowels shone in the sunlight as the three laughed and Marmalade yowled happily. Severus had adored the weeks Lily spent with her grandmother. More than being allowed to go, her father barely noticed she had gone, and her mother quietly encouraged it. Those weeks represented the only times she remained well fed, bathed, and clothed by people who actually cared what happened to her besides her mother. But with the end of her friendship two and a half years ago, those sunny days turned into far away echoes that reminded her of what she had lost in fifth year...

Tears threatened to fall but she fought them. The locket had belonged to her mother, her last parting gift to her before she had left her identity to become someone else, someone free from Tobias Snape's reach. She made sure that she left a small deposit for her daughter in a bank account each month, spared from her wages, just in case Severus needed the extra money. Normally her pride wouldn't let Severus accept it, but being poor, and not wanting to live with Tobias, had made her realize that pride did not always allow the realization of ambitions. Even so, she had to choose between less than classy parts of London and her classless dump of a childhood home where her drunk, ill-tempered and lonely father still resided. Why couldn't he just die already and leave them in peace? Of course her choice of residence presented its own risk, but at least no one knew her all that well. She could ignore them quietly, and they her.

She fingered the other photograph, this one a still picture, unlike the other. She had declined enchanting the copy of this picture. It showed a view of one of Lily's birthday parties. Severus had never had any until she met Lily, and even then, none had been hosted by her own parents. Her father would not allow it. Lily's kindly Nana had, once again, hosted a few over the years. All small and nondescript, but appreciated nonetheless. Lily, in a soft lily-yellow, had a flowery bow in her hair, head bowed over a present as she tore into the wrapping paper. Severus could see herself in the background, eyes glowing, in a blue dress of the same design (yellow would have made her look far too washed out anyway, and even more sickly). Marmalade hunched underneath the coffee table, and Nana sat off to the side carefully cutting equal pieces for her girls.

Severus couldn't help but smile. She didn't offer many genuine smiles those days, but looking back at her few happy memories always lifted her spirits. The thought of meeting the Dark Lord's Death Eaters loomed ominously in the future. After her descent from the platform at graduation, Lucius Malfoy had appeared out of nowhere to whisper in her ear. Your spot is secure. He had vanished almost as quickly, not even congratulating her. He, like most people, didn't even know of her transness, her femaleness. She didn't particularly feel like indulging it to any other Death Eaters, either. She would have to hide, and hide well, even better than she had when she went to Hogwarts.

She put the pictures back into the locket, brushed herself off, and set aside her preparations for the night. She needed to feed Marmalade's grandchildren, Fiddlesticks and Coriander. They were her last living tie to Lily besides the woman herself, after Nana died six months ago and Lily stopped talking to her, and outside of her mother, probably the only creatures that loved her. They suited her, especially when she didn't want children of her own. She had to stop to give both sets of perked ears a scritch, had to ensure all entrances as being secure. She checked the Floo, to make sure no one could use it, and last of all, reread the location of the party she planned to attend that evening. Grateful that Lucius had turned to his own affairs, due to his wife's pregnancy, Severus didn't have to worry about her first summons of her soon-to-be initiation. She could put that to the back of her mind for a couple of days at least.


She laced up her boots, sitting on a couch that had seen better days. High heeled to the point of being weapons themselves, they continued up her calf, covering sheathed daggers. Her boots, like the heavy fabric of her clothes, made the night envious in their blackness. Her empire waist, gothic-but-not-tacky gowns cascaded out and away from her body. Another set of small knives hid up her lace-edged bell sleeves with her wand; she'd be damned before someone caught her off guard. She had curled and pineappled her hair, putting an absurd but necessary amount of product on her already greasy, bone straight hair to hold the style. High lace collars typically replaced her high-necked, near-strangling, loathed men's clothing she donned as Severus Snape the man, and this night offered no exception. Anything to hide that Adam's-apple male puberty cursed her with, and a lace-filled bodice to hide what male puberty couldn't give her. Fishnet stockings, lace gloves, a practice application of lipstick labeled "rebel rose", and a subtle hint of eyeliner that made her eyes pop and stand out as more fearsome than before accentuated her look. Not prim or proper, and certainly not pretty, but undeniably vivid and elegant in her own right. She tucked a purple hand fan and two condoms into her clutch when she stood, just in case, took a glance around the tiny room one last time, downed an anti-STI potion by the door, and locked up the place. Turning, she checked the dark open walkway around her. With a scowl she applied a disillusionment charm from the shadows just in case moments before apparating away. She didn't want to waste one moment of her precious few hours of openly being a woman.


Severus Snape walked briskly down the alleyway, the music in the distance just reaching her ears. The bass beat against her bones and her back straightened. She had to be especially careful actually getting to her location. She wasn't familiar with the neighborhood, and thus didn't know all of the dangers it might hold. Trans women were especially prone to experiencing violence from others, especially cisgender straight men who felt threatened by their existence. Her heels clicked against the pavement, announcing each step along the way. Her suspicious gaze darted about nervously, eyeing every long shadow. She nearly drew her wand but only just refrained from doing so. Her normal hyper-vigilance added onto her uncertainty about her surroundings did nothing to ease her mind. She paused, confused about which turn to take, when someone cleared their throat from a doorway ahead.

"Ma'am-" someone started to say perkily to her. Severus jumped and whipped out both her wand and a curved knife to be met with hands raised in surrender.

"Don't," Snape snarled, "surprise me!"

The person gulped audibly. "I just wanted to say," he said with a bit of a Spanish accent, "that I'm one of the guides out in the streets helping people along to the party. See?"

He held up an ID badge with the signature of the host ensribed on it. It also had a tiny, barely noticeable mark in the corner that meant it could be tested magically, which meant this man wasn't a muggle. Severus touched her wand tip to it and the badge glowed briefly. Her eyes narrowed.

"All right. But stay in front where I can see you. I will not hesitate to-"

But the man was frantically waving his hands at about shoulder height as if to scatter the idea. "No harm is to come to the honored guests of Señor Jasper and Don Casimiro."

Still, shoulders tense, Severus remained cautious as she proceeded to follow her guide. She kept a measured distance between them-close enough that she would be near if he needed to protect her, and far enough away if he betrayed her to give her some warning and an advantage. They crept along and gradually came into more lighted and much less sketchy surroundings. The music grew more omnipresent, increasing in volume. "Did you say Don Casimiro?" Severus inquired. "That is an esteemed title, one of respect. The host of this party...is he from one of the Old Families?"

Her guide had to understand her implications. She wanted to know if she was about to arrive on the doorstep of a respectable pureblood's party, and by extension, if her appearance would make its way to Lucius Malfoy's ears. Far worse than being barred from the Death Eaters, if discovered, she might even be personally murdered by them. No one in their ranks or associated with them could show signs of weakness, and she knew deep in her heart that they would see her existence as a particularly concentrated form. They would see her transness as something to exploit. The transgender population had lived as one, sometimes two, distinct genders, sometimes accepted and sometimes not depending on popular opinion and those in power within the Pureblood Court. Either way, with Voldemort presiding over some major members of the Court, she would be worse than a blood-traitor and marked for extermination. There existed a third and fourth gender, one androgynous and a third gender so to speak, neither male nor female, but they did not receive the disdain she would.

"Oh, yes, one of the oldest," her guide replied. "One out of Spain. Have you ever heard of Don Antonio Fernández Carriedo?" The guide didn't provide time for a reply, "he is Don Casimiro's father," he continued without being prompted. "They are one of the oldest families, older than many of the sacred twenty-eight of Britain." This is the end, Severus thought. This is how I die. Tar-and-feathered for going to a party. Tobias would die of laughter over her fate.

"The invitation did not include this information," Severus rejoined calmly, smothering her rampant panic at the latest a developments. "I was also under the assumption that some muggles and squibs would be present." What respectable Ancient and Noble House invited muggles and squibs to their parties?

"Oh yes," the guide replied, "they shall. Not many of the muggles know what we truly are, but some do. Many consist of the social circle of Señor Jasper, who is a half-blood, so many half and mixed bloods, as well as muggleborns, will be there. He has a close circle of friends and is a very charming and endearing type, and Don Casimiro is very compassionate and kind. Oye, señora, they are made for each other, even if other purebloods disagree. Es, ¿cómo se dice? El amor es ciego, pero los vecinos no. Porque Señor Jasper and Don Casimiro are married." Severus stopped short. She knew she had been going to a gathering of mostly queer people, but it surprised her that someone from a family that basically came from what amounted to royalty in their world would marry someone of the same gender, or a half-blood, but at the same time? It could be risky for old families without making arrangements for the couple to conceive. They would have to acquire someone else to carry a child for the men. Every pureblood family had to have an heir, whether male or female, though of course male children were slightly favored, if for no reason except to buoy a man's ego. While a mixed-blood child might be accepted, the queer pairing would be more likely to be questioned than the blood status in some circles purely for the danger of jeopardizing the chance of an heir.

Severus started up again, catching up with the guide in a few quick strides.

"If I may," Severus said cautiously, "I don't mean to offer inappropriate sentiments for the occasion, but...what shall the two do about an heir?"

"Ah!" The guide bounced happily. "You shall have to ask Señor Jasper or Don Casimiro yourself!"

Five minutes more and they had arrived. The guide held the door open for her, and Severus stepped inside.


"Thank you, Narcissa," Lucius murmurs, accepting the cup of steaming tea. Narcissa smiles warmly, but it passes quickly, replaced briefly by fear and then by a smooth mask of calm

"Do you know when he will arrive, Lucius?" she whispers, pushing some of her long, blonde hair out of her face. Her other hand goes to her belly, where she has just started showing.

"Any time now, dear. You really have nothing to worry about. He does not expect you to stay for the meeting. He has business to discuss with me. However, he may want to see you now that you are showing."

Narcissa swallowed and nodded, only faintly reassured. She turned and straightened a doily on the mantle of the fireplace to hide her nervousness despite having done nothing wrong. She feared the Dark Lord that Lucius followed so ardently, and did not dare speak out for fear that she would suffer terrible consequences. Her dear, sweet, sister Andromeda, whom she had not been allowed to speak to in years, had been disowned and exiled from the family after marrying the muggleborn and having his child. She had been her favorite sister by far. Secretly, she wrote her letters, sometimes sending them and sometimes not, but soon she would have to stop, for it would be far too dangerous for the both of them and their children. If only their children would be allowed to play together. Maybe then their family could heal. But Bellatrix would never allow it.

At that moment, a house elf arrived, trembling to tell them that their honored guest had arrived. Narcissus steeled her nerves enough to turn to the door by the time the footsteps stopped in front of it. She straightened her back and offered a polite smile in greeting, meeting the inhuman, almost beastly eyes in a grotesque face. The man smiled, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. He held out his scaly hands for her, and trying not to cringe, she stepped forward and allowed him to kiss her knuckles. His lips on her skin felt like death passing over her, and the contact made the thing in her womb somersault. Draco she reminded herself to give herself courage.

"Why Narcissa," Lord Voldemort cooed in a low hiss, "how lovely to see you my dear, and you positively glow."

"Thank you, my lord," she acknowledged courteously, "I am glad that it pleases you so."

"Oh yes," he nodded, smiling hugely. "My followers bringing Pureblood children into the world always pleases me immensely. Lucius cares appropriately for you, no?"

Narcissa paused, not because she had been mistreated, but because he surprised her. She knew, somewhere in her mind, that he only cared about the fresh, pure blood that flowed through her veins and the new generation of Pureblood children that she would be helping usher into the world. But she never realized how much power that gave her over Lucius. He could be tortured or even killed for jeopardizing their lord's dream of a pure magical world. She realized this all within a half of a second, not long enough yet to make Voldemort draw his wand on her husband, but long enough for Lucius to get nervous.

"He does, my lord," she answered graciously with an even more gracious smile, putting up mental shields and keeping in mind what sort of words she needed to feed Voldemort, who underestimated her power and intelligence. "I was only momentarily amazed at the care you show for your people. Your continuing kindness toward us only makes me know that our faith in you is not in vain."

Voldemort pulled his thin lips into a pleased smirk, a shift that made it look like a thin sheet of paper had been pulled over a skull, and looked to Lucius, making a sweeping gesture at Narcissa. "See, Lucius, how well cultured and educated your wife is? She is truly a credit to your family name. She will raise your son well."

Narcissa would have sighed in relief had Voldemort not still been there. In another minute or so of polite conversation he had excused her, and she was ashamed to say that she wanted to run away from him despite her Occulmency skills. What had she gotten into marrying Lucius Malfoy?


"Ah, Lucius," Voldemort breathed. "Now that I have seen the progress of your family, I must state my other business with you, though you know it."

Lucius waited patiently for his lord to finish before responding, before even nodding. "Yes, my lord, I have acquired the support of Severus Snape. His services will be invaluable. I have never seen anyone brew potions the way he does. He can supply us with many different types of restoratives and the like, draughts that give healing, strength, stealth, and endurance to those who consume them."

"Very well," Lord Voldemort said agreeably, as he had had quite a good day, "he shall receive his mark shortly, as planned. Perhaps at the next full moon?" Lucius knew not to contradict his lord despite never being a victim to his wrath. He had seen what happened to others who spoke out of turn. The Dark Lord's followers learned to respect and fear him very quickly. Lucius gave the default, empty, meaningless assenting vote and received permission to take the news to Severus himself rather than through someone else.

Dearest Severus:

Come to the manner tomorrow night. I have important news to deliver.

-Lucius


A/N: The story begins just before Lily's death, something that happens very near the beginning. In the story, Severus Snape is a demisexual transgender woman, and Aurora Sinistra, who is canonically black, is bisexual. Katia, my OC, is called "an Alternate"; a gender that corresponds to the real-world category of "non-binary" in Western societies and the third gender of many others. I use ey/em/eir/emself pronouns for em. I am simply a genderqueer trans person who wanted to see more trans people (specifically trans people of color and trans women) in fiction, whether or not it is fanfiction.