CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Draw thy breath in pain.
-Hamlet, William Shakespeare
Severus offered Draco a firewhiskey to drink but he insisted he couldn't partake, not even when Severus amended the offer to include juice or tea.
"I don't see why you believe him to have been acting the Imperius Curse," Severus said, bitterness dripping from his voice. "This isn't the first time your father had seriously injured your mother."
"He's never pulled a knife on her before! And this was entirely without provocation. They weren't having a row that got out of hand. She was alone in her room, he entered, said something about a plague, then attacked her. I came in, hexed him, and he disapparated, I rushed to her, staunched the wound, and asked her what happened. She managed to say, 'Imperius Curse." That was all. Then, at St. Mungo's, they asked her for the memory so it could be viewed and she gave it and... and I saw it, and... and..." Draco shuddered.
"And that's what happened? He entered, said something about a plague, then slit her throat?" Thanks to being a Legilimens, despite Draco's natural abilities in the area of Occlumency, Severus could sense something was being left out.
"Not... exactly..."
"What, exactly?"
"First he... violated her... and she cried." Draco stared intently at the wall behind Severus, unable to look at him. He would never, never be able to get his mother's memory out of his head, never be able to forget the sound of her sobs, never unsee the way his father had... Draco hadn't been able to watch all of it. He'd closed his eyes. The Healer and two Aurors did not. They saw the whole thing.
"He violated her before bringing up a plague?"
"No. No, he said something about a plague before he violated her, keeping the knife's blade flush to her throat. Then he hit her once, backhanded, across the face, which isn't... That's not his usual style either. She tried to get away but he grabbed her and used the knife to... to..." Draco shook his head as if trying to dislodge the memory from it. "After... after he cut her, he said something like, 'Violet delights end... or have violet endings... or something..."
"Violent," said Severus, his mind churning. "Not violet, violent. 'Violent delights have violent ends.'"
"That's it!" said Draco, looking both confused and relieved. He shifted his sleeping son from one shoulder to the other as his arms grew tired, but turned down his godfather's offer to sit. He couldn't get comfortable as he couldn't stay long.
"The other line he spoke..." Severus began. "Would it be, 'A plague on both your houses,' perchance?"
"Yes, that's it! How did you know?"
"It's Shakespeare," said Severus. "From Shakespeare."
"What's Shakespeare?"
"Who, not what. He was a playwright."
"Oh." Clearly the name meant nothing to the younger man. "Is my mother seeing him?"
"He's been dead four hundred years."
"I don't understand, Sir."
"Nor do I, Draco..." admitted Severus. "But you may be right about the Imperius Curse. I can't imagine either of your parents ever reading Shakespeare's work, nor do I believe I've ever heard your father quote him. The playwright was a squib, famous among Muggles, but our kind generally has little interest in him."
"I can check to see if any of his works appear on the shelves in our home library."
"Do that, please," said Severus. He heard a noise upstairs, a wail, followed by gurgling and a mix of babble and real words.
"Granger's toddler?" Draco guessed in a whisper. He arched both eyebrows. "Are they living here?"
"Only part-time." Severus saw no need to elaborate, though he could tell his godson was curious. "Someone will have to tell Delphini about your mother. I can Floo to Hogwarts and..."
"That won't be necessary," interjected Draco. "I intend to head there upon leaving here."
"You intend to bring your son all the way to Hogwarts? Why go through the trouble? I could Floo..."
"No. With all due respect, Sir, I think the news should come from me. I realize that you are her... her father..." He cleared his throat. "But I've known Delphini her entire life. She's been the little sister I never had. We're family."
"Am I not also her family?" Severus leaned back against the wall. He was not sure how much longer he could remain standing without either fetching his cane or taking the pain potion. His leg muscles were waging a fiery protest to having supported him this long, and having been overworked the night before.
"You've met her only once. I respect your desire to forge a relationship with her – Mother tells me you've been writing regularly – but this is Black and Malfoy family business. I am telling you only because I believe you deserve to be informed. And because I'd like you to be prepared, should my father pay you a visit. I don't know if she's... if you've discussed it... but Granger's daughter, the little one... Her father is... She's..."
"She's your father's daughter," Severus supplied wearily. "I am aware."
Draco appeared relieved to learn that this secret was not a surprise to the man.
"My father was not himself last night, Severus. I'd bet my own life on it. Aurors are looking for him. I've asked they not kill unless absolutely necessary, no matter what he does, as I feel he is not in control of his actions. He could be anywhere now, could be headed anywhere. I believe Delphini should know that as well, though she'll be perfectly safe at school. I will inform McGonagall and her Head of House too, to err on the side of caution. You don't happen to know who Slytherin's Head of House is, do you?"
"Aurora Sinistra. The only Slytherin left on staff. I could speak with her..."
"I know you're feeling you should rush off there to play the role of decent dad," said Draco. Despite his word choice, there was no malice in his voice. "But I am asking you not to, to let me handle it. They're my parents. They've raised Delphini. I need to be the one to tell her."
Severus sighed and acquiesced, feeling Draco was probably right that it would be better for the girl to get this news from him than from her estranged father, a man she continued to address as Professor Snape, though it pained him. "Inform me as soon as you've told her. I wish to send her a letter but do not want to risk it arriving before you do."
"It won't," Draco assured him. "We are apparating to Hogsmeade now. I would've left Scorpius home, but Astoria's parents won't return from their holiday in Rome for another two days and she was too exhausted after being up all last night... She's not well. I'll send a message by Patronus as soon as I've left Hogwarts."
"I appreciate that. Draco?"
"Yes?"
"My father treated my mother as your father treats yours. Imperius Curse or not, what he does to her in inexcusable, and I do hope it is not a trait you've inherited."
"All I've inherited from my father are his eyes, his hair, and his surname." Draco kissed the soft head of the little boy in his arms. "And for what it's worth, appearance and name are the only similarities between us that my son will ever see."
-0-0-0-
She drifted in and out of consciousness.
They couldn't get the wound to stop bleeding completely, but at least the flow had slowed.
She couldn't speak, couldn't keep her eyes open.
She lifted her fingers to the gauze over her throat. Healers had to change it often.
Each time, they gave her a blood replenishing potion.
Every two hours, she needed a blood replenishing potion.
It was difficult to swallow.
There was pain in other places as well.
Her eye. The whole side of her face, really. He'd hit her.
Between her legs. Her upper inner thighs, her very womanhood. He'd... he'd hurt her there, too.
He hadn't been himself. She would bet her life on it.
But at the same time, she didn't think she could ever forgive him for this. Not ever.
How had she gone from her bed at Malfoy Manor to this one at St. Mungo's?
Draco? Had Draco discovered her? Did Draco know... he did know what his father did?
Draco should have let her die.
Lucius should have killed her.
She was not the type to cry, thus it was a surprise to feel the trickle of a tear making its way down her bruised cheek.
A Healer had taken her memory. That meant a Healer had seen...
Her degradation.
Her devastation.
Her abject humiliation.
She closed her eyes. The tears kept coming.
She wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.
-0-0-0-
Hermione stirred when Severus re-entered the room.
"You were gone a long time," she murmured, still half-asleep even though she'd had to get up to fetch the baby. "Were you taking a shower?"
"Draco was here." He removed the dressing gown, hanging it on the back of the door, and crawled back into bed. Hero was sitting on her mother's tummy, sucking her thumb, wide awake.
"You must have been quiet. I didn't heard you talking when I went to get her from the crib."
"I didn't wish to wake you." He got under the covers. She repositioned Hero so the child was sitting between them and rolled onto her side to face him.
"What's wrong?"
He quickly relayed to her all Draco had said, though he left out the lines from Romeo & Juliet. He had a nagging suspicion playing at him and did not wish to frighten her unnecessarily... not yet.
To his surprise, she seemed most shocked about the knife.
"That's not possible!"
"What do you mean?"
"How could he have had Bellatrix's knife?"
"I assume either he or Narcissa took it off her body after..."
"No! Bellatrix threw it at us when we apparated away from Malfoy Manor. It got Dobby square in the chest. He was their former house-elf, I've told you about him."
"Yes... but surely... It must have fallen before you..."
"No, Severus, no! I'm telling you, the knife was still in him when we arrived at Shell Cottage, where Bill Weasley and Fleur lived with their little girl, Victoire. Where they still live, as far as I know. That's where we buried Dobby. We didn't take the knife with us and it was never returned to her, I would bet my life on it! I don't know what happened to the knife after we broke into Gringotts... but I intend to find out."
"Yes, it is a mystery," said Severus. He couldn't shake the decision that it was all connected - Lucius' disappearance, missing wand, and memory loss over the summer, the scarred man behind the tree and watching them at Hogsmeade, the attack on Narcissa, Bellatrix's long-lost knife... the lines from Romeo & Juliet...
Hermione rubbed the slur etched into her forearm. "Severus? If it was Bellatrix's knife, Narcissa will have a scar. Forever. It can't be removed. It..."
"I know," said Severus. He took her hand and brought it to his lips as if hoping he could kiss away her pain. Hero threw herself over their joined hands, giggling, not suspecting anything was amiss.
"Fessa," she said, grinning at Severus.
"Oh, Severus! I think she's trying to say Professor!"
"Fessa!" said Hero again. She ran her fingers gently down his over-large nose. "Hi Fessa."
"Hello, Hero."
The toddler between them scooted under the covers, pulling the blanket up to her chin, and closed her eyes. "Nuh-nite, Mumma. Nuh-nite, Fessa."
"No nuh-night," said Hermione. "Breakfast. I'll go wake the others."
"Let them sleep," said Severus. "Let's have a lie-in. It's obscenely early. I'm not ready to face the day."
Hermione looked him over with concern. He was not looking at her, but at Hero. The resemblance to Scorpius Malfoy really was uncanny. She looked more like him than her half-siblings looked like each other, even though the Park children shared both parents rather than being a generation apart with a common progenitor.
"Alright, Severus?"
"No," he answered truthfully. "When my father died, I was relieved for a number of reasons, but the greatest was because I always assumed he'd kill my mother someday, and he hadn't. Or so I thought. When she killed herself, it was because of him, so in a way I suppose... but he didn't beat her to death, as I'd always assumed he would. Whether Malfoy was under the Imperius Curse last night or not is largely irrelevant as far as I'm concerned. He's been increasingly violent with Narcissa for years, decades, and despite how close we once... were... I had no idea."
"How could you?" asked Hermione. She stroked Hero's silky hair.
"Looking back, how could I not? He would grab her roughly by the arm, steer her around, lower his voice when giving her a command... Once he tugged her toward him by her hair... The same things my father did to my mother to keep her in line in public – that's what he called it, 'keeping her in line.' Another time he caught her wrist and pulled her away from a man who was flirting with her at a function for Hogwarts staff and the Board of Governors. She winced at his touch and I looked away. Another time, at a Ministry soiree hosted by the Malfoys that I had been muscled into attending, Narcissa and I were chatting, completely innocently, when Lucius re-entered the room and spotted her, no doubt after having engaged in a quick shag with a status-seeking slag. He stalked over to us. Narcissa flinched upon sight of him, and he was not gentle when he directed her away, toward the gossiping wives of prominent Ministry officials, where he said she belonged. I'd told myself she flinched because she was worried about how it might look, letting a nobody like me monopolize her time when she had dignitaries to impress, and I told myself that's why he was bothered, and that it made sense. I justified it in my mind, even though it made me uncomfortable. In retrospect, I should have known then. In 1987. Over two decades ago."
"She's chosen to remain married to him, hasn't she?"
"My mother chose to remain married to my father. Sometimes a choice isn't a choice."
"Well, then..." Hermione bit her lip. "Well, then, we'll just have to ensure, once she's recovered, that she doesn't choose to go back. We have to ensure it isn't a choice. Assuming he's not in prison." It was odd. Mere months ago, Hermione had loathed Narcissa, hated her more than anyone else, save, perhaps, for her sister and the Dark Lord himself, as she blamed her for what happened with Malfoy, and now, here she was (in bed with Severus Snape, no less!) with her mind set on figuring out a way to protect the woman. To save her.
"If they can prove Lucius was under the Imperius Curse, he won't go to prison. But if she goes back to him, she might as well be in Azkaban herself."
"It's not your fault because you didn't see it twenty years ago, Severus. Protecting the world is not your responsibility."
"Isn't it?" He laughed bitterly. "It has certainly felt that way over the years."
"It's not anymore." Longing to see him smile, she added, "It's Harry's job now. He's the Chosen One, remember? You're retired."
"That's right." The corners of his mouth turned up. He reached for the pain potion in his bedside table, ready for another dosage. He sat up to take it, exposing his left forearm. Hero, for the first time, pressed her fingers curiously to the skull and snake design.
"Boo-boo?" she asked. "Bad boo-boo?"
"Yes," he answered, thinking this a surprisingly accurate term for the mistake forever burned into his skin, as permanent as Hermione's 'Mudblood' and the slash that surely marred the skin of Narcissa's throat now. "An exceedingly bad boo-boo."
-0-0-0-
Delphini sat stone-faced, hands folded neatly in her lap, as Draco delivered the news. She hadn't gotten much sleep, having only returned to her dormitory at quarter past ten, then having lain awake for hours, staring at the ceiling above her four-poster bed thinking up a thousand ways to get revenge on Victoire Weasley.
Victoire Weasley, daughter of a part-Veela and a blood-traitor, granddaughter of her mother's murderer, a girl as ugly on the inside as she was beautiful on the outside... she'd learn it was a bad idea to mess with Delphini Druella Black.
Snape.
Delphini Druella Black Snape.
(She liked the sound of that.)
Staring at the ceiling, Delphini thought about Fiendfyre, but that seemed excessive, not to mention impossible. As much as Professor Cho-Zabini seemed to like her, she had a feeling "Can you teach me to utilize Fiendfyre so I can watch this wretched girl burn?" would not go over well.
She thought about the giant squid said to live in the lake. Could she feed the girl to it, make it look like an accident? What do giant squids eat? Might they eat part-Veela blood-traitors? Probably not, or it wouldn't be allowed to live on school grounds.
She thought about Sectrumsempra, a hex invented by her father that she'd read about in the Daily Prophet a year earlier, but thought it might make him feel disappointed in her rather than proud, and she couldn't have that. (She'd learned about the spell after a former Death Eater was arrested for having used it on a Muggle neighbor with whom he was having a property dispute. The reporter had reached out to Severus to respond, thus the caption under an old picture of him read, "When pressed for comment, notable recluse, war hero, and alleged inventor of Sectumsemptra Severus Snape would only say 'Bugger off.' Then he insisted the reporter vacate his yard unless he wished to find himself subjected to a personal demonstration of the effects of the hex.")
After the most vicious retaliations had been thoroughly fantasized about, she got practical, thinking about every joke product she'd ever seen on the shelves at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley. But how to slip the girl a Puking Pastile or Nosebleed Nougat without getting caught?
It was well after two in the morning when she finally drifted off, and just past seven when her Head of House, Professor Sinistra (Astronomy) woke her up.
Groggy, confused, and vaguely concerned, Delphini slipped on her dressing gown and slippers and followed tall, thin, dark-skinned Professor Sinistra through the common room, up the stairs, into the hall, and all the way to the Headmistress's office. Her heart gave a happy skip as they approached. Perhaps Madam Pomfrey had reported Victoire Weasley. Perhaps the girl was going to be punished!
Alas.
When they entered, it was to find Draco, grim-faced and exhausted, with Scorpius in his arms, speaking in hushed tones to Professor McGonagall.
"What's wrong? Is it Astoria?"
"Sit down, please, Delphini," said McGonagall gently. "Have a biscuit."
"It's not even breakfast time," said Delphini, pushing away the tin of Ginger Newts. "What's happened?"
In tones and terms as delicately as he could manage, sparing her most of the worst details, he explained that his mother had been admitted to St. Mungo's the night before, that she'd been attacked. He'd told McGonagall that it was by an unknown assailant, which was the story that was expected to hit the Prophet, thanks to an abundance of gold he'd donated to the head Healer's favorite charity, but unlike McGonagall, the girl knew right away who'd hurt her auntie.
"She is expected to be in recovery for two weeks at least. Once she's released to the convalescent center, I'll take you to visit her. I've already worked it out with Headmistress McGonagall. You can come home for the weekend on special permission. If you want to, I mean. She will want to see you – she's worried about you – but it's your choice."
"Yes," said Delphini quickly, both eager to escape Hogwarts (if only for a weekend) and to see her aunt, to assure herself that the woman who'd raised her would indeed make a full recovery. "Why can't I see her now?"
"No visitors allowed," said Draco. This was true, but the additional truth was that he didn't want his cousin to see her mother this way, broken, bruised, and with a neck wound that would not stop bleeding. It had been bad enough having to sit through her memory beside that Healer and those Aurors...
Draco gave Delphini an awkward one-armed hug before leaving, balancing Scorpius (now fully awake) on his opposite hip, and thanked McGonagall and Sinistra for their time and understanding. He exited.
"Do you need to talk?" asked Professor Sinistra gently. She'd not wanted the position as Head of House, it had fallen upon her when the only other Slytherin, Bathsheba Babbling (Ancient Runes) retired five years before, but she was trying to do the job well. Delphini shook her head. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me. My door is always open."
"I want to go back to my dormitory to dress," said Delphini. It was odd. She'd cried at least once literally every single day since arriving at Hogwarts, mostly over loneliness or conflicting thoughts about her mother or being teased or class-related frustration, but here she had a reason to cry, a real and true and legit reason to cry, and the tears would not come.
On the contrary, she felt numb.
-0-0-0-
The prisoner did not know where he was. For a moment, he did not know who he was. Then the man, the man whose face was concealed by a mask not unlike those he'd worn himself as a Death Eater, was standing over him, pointing his wand.
"Lucius Malfoy," the man said. This jarred the prisoner's memory. His name was Lucius. Lucius Malfoy.
"You did not do what you were sent to do," said the man. "She's still alive."
"Who?" asked Lucius. The man laughed.
"Don't you remember? You slit her throat."
"Who?" Lucius tried to sit up but the pain in the back of his head was too intense. He wondered how long he'd been unconscious. "I slit someone's throat?"
"You did. She was supposed to die. But she did not. Your son rushed her to St. Mungo's."
"Draco?" Lucius felt sick to his stomach and his concussion was not the only cause of it. "What did I do?"
"I'm disappointed that you can't remember. You should. Your memory was clear. I extracted and viewed it myself and returned it to you promptly. Think about it. Concentrate."
Lucius closed his eyes. He could see himself, but from above, as if he were a ghost floating above his own body. He saw himself speaking to Narcissa, but could not hear what was said. He saw himself pulling the knife. Forcing her onto her back on the bed. Holding her down. Thrusting roughly into her, the blade to her neck.
"No..." whispered Lucius. The memory seemed clearer now. He saw himself hit her. He heard himself speak unfamiliar words. He watched, unable to react, as he slit his wife's throat. "Narcissa? My Narcissa? I did that? I killed my wife?"
"I already told you, she's not dead," said the man, his clearly annoyed voice muffled behind the mask. "Not yet."
-0-0-0-
It was a subdued day at the home on Spinner's End. Helena could sense something was bothering the adults and behaved accordingly, using what Hermione's grandparents would have called "Church voice" all morning and trying to keep her siblings calm - more so than usual. At nap time, she went upstairs to lay with Henry, bringing a book with her, without being asked.
Hermione and Severus used that time to continue their respective potions. His Veritaserum for the Ministry would be done in ten hours, so he started gathering materials for the Dragon's Nightshade-infused pain potion.
"Now mine just needs to simmer," said Hermione, cleaning up her last ingredients an hour later. "Next month, let's work on giving it some flavor, then we can bottle it and sell it to St. Mungo's. I'd be willing to bet I'm not the only witch sick of that bitter taste. What if we sprinkled in some sugar, or threw a few strawberries in the cauldron?"
"Sorry," said Severus, concentrating on his own concoction. "Sugar renders it completely useless, remember? I thought I told you that once before. Even trace amounts would..."
Hermione dropped the container in which Severus stored his fillet of a fenney snake. The glass shattered against the stone cellar floor. Severus jolted.
"What happened?"
"Sugar renders it completely useless."
"Yes," said Severus, relaxing as he turned back to his cauldron. "So we'll have to find another way to dilute the bitterness."
"Sugar renders it completely useless," Hermione repeated, staring at the wall opposite her as if in a trance. Severus set down his ladle, coming to stand in front of her.
"Hermione?"
"Sugar renders it completely useless, Severus. Sugar renders the contraceptive potion completely useless."
"Yes, we've established that." He felt a sudden burst of panic. "Why, have you been adding sugar? Could you be...?"
"No," she said weakly. She reached for the corner of the table to steady herself but it was too far away. Thankfully, though, he caught her before she could collapse to the floor.
"It tasted sweet."
"What?"
"The night we... we went on a picnic. Then we returned to my flat, I was living in a different place at the time, not far from my current one, actually. I asked him to fetch the vial for me. It took him a long time... longer than it should have... but he brought it to me. When I swallowed it, I remember thinking it tasted sweeter than usual. I chalked it up to the strawberries and champagne we'd shared earlier... I was a bit tipsy... but it wasn't the champagne and it wasn't the strawberries. I remember. It tasted artificially sweet, too sweet... like sugar. Table sugar, cubed sugar, white sugar. Sugar, which..."
"Renders it useless," Severus finished with her. "You're talking about Reginald?"
She nodded. Her cinnamon brown eyes met his. She looked scared and sick and strangely haunted.
"He did it on purpose," she said. "I'd always wondered... I mean, I even told Ginny I thought he might have... somehow... but I had no proof... and he seemed so surprised when I said I was pregnant. Surprised and happy. I was relieved when he seemed happy."
"He was happy to learn he was to be a father?"
"He was happy. Happy, because he did it on purpose. He did it on purpose, Severus!" Betrayal and fury took over for the hurt and fear etched across her face. "That bloody bastard put sugar in it, didn't he?"
"Could be," murmured Severus. The more he heard about this Reginald Park, the less he liked, which was significant considering what he'd heard early on was horrific. "You are certain it tasted sweet?"
"Yes, and only that one time. Two weeks later I missed my cycle. After I missed my second, I saw a Mediwitch and she confirmed what I'd already suspected. They went back to estimate my time of conception... But I know. I knew. It was that night, the night it tasted sweet." Now the fury and betrayal were replaced by pain, deep and devastating pain. "How could he do that to me, Severus? Why? We'd only been dating a short time. I'd been very clear about not wanting children until I was in my thirties. I told him I didn't want to rush into another serious relationship so soon after my divorce. Why would he do that? Why would he trick me into having his baby? To trap me into marriage?"
"I believe you've answered your own questions." He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, rubbing her back soothingly, struggling to conceal his own rage. Hermione had been forced into bearing children she did not ask for not once, but twice. Having done it himself once, he couldn't imagine a second go...
"How could he do that to me, Severus?" She suddenly seemed overtaken by panic, and backed away from him, backed up until she hit the edge of the table. "You wouldn't do that to me, would you?" Hermione's eyes darted toward the simmering cauldron of contraceptive potion. "You wouldn't... you wouldn't..."
"Never," he assured her, hurt she would even ask. "That Veritaserum will be done by midnight tonight. I'll take it and you can ask me again then, while I'm under the influence of the truth serum. I will tell you the same as I'm telling you now. I would never, never do that to you. Or to any woman. Not ever. Never."
She burst into tears and half-collapsed back into his arms.
"I know," she said over and over. "I know, I know you wouldn't. I know. I know you're a better man... I know you're not like... I know... I'm sorry."
"Do not apologize to me." He smoothed her hair, grappling with the overwhelming desire to tell her he loved her and the knowledge that this was absolutely not the right time.
"I wish he were still alive," sobbed Hermione into Severus' chest, dampening his button-down shirt. "I wish he were still alive so I could confront him. About this. About everything."
"I know," said Severus, holding her more tightly. In his head, he added, 'You may just get your wish.'
A/N: Heavier chapter here and I have to be honest, 39 isn't fluffy either. Quite the opposite... so be prepared. :) But that's because we're heading into the home stretch, so to speak! 40 will be another verse-esque chapter, but a funnier one to break things up, then between 41-49 everything comes together: questions will be answered, secrets will be revealed, healing will begin - all that fun stuff! - leading to a happy ending epilogue in Chapter 52. Thanks for reading and reviewing and all that jazz! -AL