"You have been in the garden of Eden. Every precious
stone was your covering, the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, the beryl, the
onyx, and the jasper, the sapphire, the emerald, and the carbuncle, and gold:
the workmanship of your pipes was prepared in you the day that you were
created."
Lucius looked down at his hands and admired his nails. They had just been done,
perfectly filed, beautiful and shimmery, much like himself.
All perfectly shaped, perfectly even, perfect in every way. He was perfection and
he had to be perfection to maintain his status. Perfect in
mind, body, and soul.
Though his mind was corrupted, his body taken by one of the most wicked beings
created, and his soul tainted, all three were still perfect. Polluted,
yes, but perfect.
His gray eyes took in the figure of his Lord, resting comfortably upon his
throne. Voldemort was looking at his Second, his head on his hand, his brow
furrowed, lost in thought. He had been in this position for a good few minutes
and Lucius thought that his Lord would not come to a decision.
Lo and behold, his Lord did. Raising himself from his previous position,
Voldemort cleared his throat to gain attention even though Lucius was already
looking at him.
"Strawberries. I am craving strawberries today,
Lucius. Pick me up some while you're out." His tone was imperial, his
manner divine. The Dark Lord's robes flowed around him as he reclined back in
his throne, his decision made for the day.
Lucius took out the shopping list and jotted down 'strawberries' upon it.
"You will have them soon, my Lord."
Lucius Malfoy was going shopping today. He hoped so very much that the store
had strawberries. Normally they weren't in season but he had a feeling about
today. It wouldn't be the first time his Lord had said something almost
entirely random and then having everything work out in the end.
It was time to go to work.
Mid afternoon and all was quiet at the school
of Hogwarts. A group of four boys
were off in God knows where doing God knows what. What or where they were
wasn't important. What was important was the smaller boy who was trying to
locate them.
All Severus Snape wanted was acceptance. Maybe even a friend, but he would
never admit that. A third year. Already shunned by the
members of his own House and hated by those of other
Houses. He was the outcast, the loner, the unsociable one. He loved his
potions, though. And it was obvious that his potions loved him. They worked so
well for him, came together so nicely. He loved how they smelled, how they reacted,
how they were crafted.
He neared the Forbidden Forest,
his small legs moving him along quickly. He wasn't that tall but the rest of
his family was so he suspected that he would soon have his growth spurt. He did
not look forward to it. Already known for his greasy-looking hair, he did not
want to add gangly to the growing list of colourful insulting adjectives the
other boys used to describe him.
He ran faster into the Forest, knowing that he saw the
four boys come this way. He knew that he would catch them doing something. He
knew it! He only had to find out what. Then he would report them and they would
be thrown out and little Severus' life would be made that much easier. He felt
no guilt in wanting to expel the foursome. They made his life hell, insulting
him, teasing him, shouting cruelties to him. He hated them and if he couldn't
dispose of them and if his parents refused to let him leave the school, he
would have to do the next best thing and help to eject them from it.
His pace slowed once he entered deep into the forest. It was only the afternoon
so why was it so dark? He continued walking, moving his robe tighter around him
so it wouldn't get stuck on the sharp brambles. His wand was kept out just in
case. A movement. A scratch. A wince.
Severus brought his hand up and stuck his bleeding finger into his mouth. Damn
the brambles! Damn the Gryffindors! Damn himself for
getting into such a mess.
A flash of silver was seen from far away and Severus jerked his head up,
squinting to try and get a better view. Something was shining. And then it was
running and so was Severus.
A unicorn? Maybe. Severus had
heard of the pure creatures but had never seen them. Maybe this was his chance, he had heard that they dwelled in the Forest.
He stopped short when something red caught his eye. Blood.
On a bramble. Red blood. It
couldn't have been a unicorn. He knew they bled silver.
But next to the blood was a long silver hair. Beautiful and
shiny in the scant sunlight, glowing in the darkness. Severus noted its beauty
before picking it up and conjuring up a vial to place it in.
Forgetting about the Marauders, Severus trudged on back to the castle, his mind
already at work with the task he now had in front of him.
"Thou are the anointed cherub that covers; and I have set you so: you
were upon the holy mountain
of God; you have
walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire."
"They were out of stock?"
"They were, my Lord. I had several people check the back of the store. No
strawberries."
Voldemort's disappointment was profound. He showed it by resting an elbow on
his leg, chin in hand. "I must confess myself disappointed."
Lucius admired his nails, the cut on his palm had yet to be healed and the
blood did not look good on him. "It is never my wish to disappoint you, my
Lord. I think I will check again tonight. Sometimes, they have midnight deliveries."
"Yes. Now come here. You're bleeding."
Lucius obeyed, his injured hand out in front of him
like an offering. Voldemort took it in his own hands, a forked tongue tracing
along the wound, lapping at the blood and making his Second hiss in pleasure.
Severus finished making the potion. Though he was eager, he was also intending
on getting the potion correct and would not allow his youthful need to rush to
foul it up. When the potion was ready, it was poured into a bowl and the hair
was placed inside.
He let out a gasp of surprise as the face of an angel appeared before him. This
was no unicorn. This was something else entirely! And it had been in the forest!
Severus shifted himself uncomfortably. The Forbidden
Forest was a place where, if one
listened to Dumbledore, angels feared to tread.
But this must have been a special case. Perhaps he was meant to find this
creature, this strange, beautiful being. Now that he knew what the creature
looked like, he would be able to see him. Would this angel help him? Grant him
a wish? If so, Severus knew exactly what he'd wish for.
Maybe he was mistaken and this creature was just a man. Maybe he was jumping to
the wrong conclusions. That would be just like him. Bad karma, bad luck, bad
everything. It wouldn't surprise him if this creature was nothing more than an
escaped loony who lost his way.
But he was still optimistic enough to check. He'd try tonight and, oh, here
comes the Gryffindors! Severus quickly flushed the potions down into the sink,
hair and all. He regretted losing it, but it was for the best. He would not
allow a Gryffindor to see or have what would soon be his own.
"You were perfect in your ways from the day that your
were created, until iniquity was found in you."
"You killed the stock boy?"
Lucius' hands were red. He had not yet washed them. "He answered me back
in a most uncivil manner," he explained, voice ever patient.
Voldemort sighed. "Lucius, when will you learn to control your
temper?"
"Would you have allowed him to speak to you in the way he did to me? I
have taught him respect."
"You have taught him nothing. Dead people cannot learn."
"Hm." Lucius pondered over this one for a few
moments while Voldemort watched him with something akin to amusement. "I
suppose you're right," he finally conceded. "But it was still his own fault. No strawberries."
"Then you'll go tomorrow?"
"Yes. And I shall go every day next until you have your sweets."
"I already have one." And Voldemort pulled Lucius close and cleaned
his hands for him.
Severus ran through his Common Room in tears, his heart pounding in his chest.
Fear, adrenaline, and anger ran through him, searching for balance and finding
nothing. He couldn't believe what Dumbledore had done to him, how he had taken
that..that freak's word over his own! His life had
been in danger! He had been thrown in front of a werewolf!
He could have ended up a werewolf himself or dead! And still, Black was free to
run about without any consequences, without any repercussions while he had been
threatened. If he told anyone about Lupin then he would be expelled. It was
disgustingly unfair but Severus was far too used to things being disgustingly
unfair.
What had angered him the most was that this was his life! His own life! And
Dumbledore thought it best to just throw it away like it meant nothing! What
about him? Didn't anyone care about him? He knew he wasn't much to look at. He
knew he didn't get along well with the others. But did that mean that people
would just disregard him? Just throw him away like dirt? He was a human too! He
never killed anyone! He never wanted to!
Hurt them, maybe. Kill, no. But tonight, tonight he had been deprived his right
to live by one of the most powerful wizards of his time. He knew that if he had
died, no one would care. No one would bat an eye. They would turn away and
speak of him in the past tense and after a few months, no, not even then. After
a few weeks or days, they would go on just as they had before with no other
thought to him.
He hated the Gryffindors. He hated Dumbledore. But most importantly, he hated
himself for not being able to do anything about such treatment.
"By the multitude of your merchandise you have filled the midst of thee
with violence and you have sinned, therefore I will cast you as profane out of
the mountain of God; and I will destroy you, O covering cherub, from the midst
of the stones of fire."
"I have figured it out, my Lord." Lucius' hands were clean once
again.
"Do tell, Lucius."
"The key to getting good strawberries is to pick them now."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Grow them yourself. That way, you'll forever have your own stock of
strawberries." Lucius smiled in that way of his that made people doubt his
sanity.
Voldemort tilted his head to the side. He was wearing dark red robes today and
they complimented his figure nicely. "Yes, Lucius, but you know me. I
hardly have the time to plant strawberries and culture them."
Lucius continued to smile. "Then let me grow them for you. If only to make up for my failure in getting you your nourishment
for today."
The Dark Lord considered this. "So long as it does not interfere with your
usual work, you may do as you like. I hope I won't have to wait that
long."
"Not long at all, my Lord. Besides, I do believe that the results will be
well worth your patience."
Today, Severus saw the devil. And the devil was beautiful and went by the name
of Lucifer and he had so much he wanted to show Severus.
Severus had gone for a walk, back into the Forbidden
Forest. He needed to clear his
head, needed time and silence to think, needed to stop crying. He was half
hoping he'd see nothing unusual and half hoping he'd see his angel. He wanted
so badly to be comforted, to be needed, to have his thoughts ripped from his
mind and replaced with the idea that he was wanted somewhere. That someone
would miss him. But he did not want to appear looking like such a wreck in
front of so majestic a creature.
As it turned out, he did not have a choice.
"Dry your eyes, Severus, and come to me." A hand was held out, nails
shiny and slightly long, but the skin to the hand was soft and smooth and
fingers caressed Severus' own hand as the boy came to him, his hand outstretched
like a sacrifice.
His angel smiled at him and Severus found himself smiling back.
They talked about this and that and Lucifer explained to Severus that he was
not so much an angel as he was a demon. He asked if Severus was afraid and when
Severus said no, Lucifer offered to show Severus a few tricks.
The Dark Arts were talked about and then the subject of Dumbledore came up.
"He loved me once," Lucifer explained to Severus. "Just
like he loved you. But like all true love, this one withered on the vine."
Severus nodded in agreement and understanding. Lucifer spoke of the past,
present, and future. He said that Severus would have a beautiful future if only
he knew to make the right choices. Severus had asked the devil what his choices
were and Lucifer had laughed and kissed him.
"Your heart was lifted up because of your beauty,
you have corrupted your wisdom by reason of your brightness. I will cast you to
the ground, I will lay you down before kings, so that
they may see you. You have defiled your sanctuaries by the multitude of your
iniquities, by the iniquity of your traffick; therefore will I bring forth a
fire from the midst of you, it shall devour you, and I will bring you to ashes
upon the earth in the sight of all them that behold you."
Battles.
Wars.
Deaths.
Betrayals.
Azkaban.
Traitor.
Trials.
Infamy.
Spy.
Innocent.
Guilty.
Voldemort sat in his throne once again, looking a bit more resentful, a bit more bitter, a bit more temperamental. His Second stood
beside his throne, feeling a bit more on edge than ever.
"You do not have a green thumb, Lucius."
"I tried, my Lord."
"You did well for the most part, I suppose. Sometimes storms come in and
rip down our prized work." Voldemort's tone was dry, though his words were
comforting. His arm reached out and ensnared his Second's waist. "My dear
Lucifer," he began, pointing to the photos of young Mr. Potter. "I do
believe it is the season of apples."
"I shall pick you one up while I am out, my Lord."
It was shopping day again.
