IX
The Riddle House, January 1998
Before the Battle of Hogwarts, Little Hangleton
Severus studied the manor critically from his vantage point within the azalea bushes that surrounded the entire property. It was an old Georgian manor, the kind village gentry often had. Village gentry like the Dark Lord's muggle father. Now that the family was dead the house had fallen into a state of disrepair, something that didn't particularly bother its new resident. They were there for a whole other, far more insidious purpose.
He wondered how the Dark Lord felt returning to this house that represented all that he hated of his muggle heritage. After all, it was at sixteen that a young Tom Marvolo Riddle had murdered his own father and his paternal grandparents. A story that the Dark Lord took great relish in retelling. Even the gardens was overgrown from when the old muggle caretaker of the house had been killed by the Dark Lord before the Triwizard Tournament and so now the manor looked completely abandoned.
The Dark Lord often reminisced about that night he had made his way to 'the house on the hill' as the locals called it and spoken to his father. A puny, weak man... vain and obsessed with his looks and with little substance and character. The muggle had dared look down up on the Dark Lord, as if HE, the weak muggle held all the power in their interaction. He had taken great satisfaction in killing his arrogant relatives.
The Dark Lord would recount almost fondly later on, that his father had been weak and pitiful and that he had done him a favour by ending his miserable life. The Dark Lord was not of boastful nature but he took great pride in his first kill, Riddle had always felt like he had found his true calling only after getting rid of the muggle baggage that tied him down.
He had avenged his mother who had been abandoned and left for dead in London by his father and he had restored honour to his old family name. The Dark Lord's obsession with the purity of his maternal family's bloodline would result in a decades long pursuit of ensuring magical blood and tradition remained within 'pureblood' families. Of-course the Gaunt name had died out when Morfin had died in Azkaban without having any children, but the Dark Lord showed a decided preference towards the Gaunt legacy. Pockmarked with madness and poverty as it was.
His disgust for the non- magical and the muggleborn wasn't just an obsession, it was a religion.
His alter of choice... purity of blood.
He wasn't successful however, because muggleborns continued to be welcomed into their schools, communities and homes but Severus thought with no small measure of arrogance, the Dark Lord was closer than ever to achieving his dream with Severus's help.
Severus thought about Lily Potter, the beautiful red-headed muggleborn he had been in love with. Except the mud-blood bitch had gone and chosen him ... James Potter; arrogant, conceited and a bully. The deceitful bitch he thought, his face morphing into an ugly scowl, he had never forgiven her. He'd make sure that son of hers never fulfilled the prophecy.
It was Severus who had deserved to be Head-Boy, he who deserved to win the love of Lily Potter and he who had the spells, the potions, the ideas that could change the wizarding world but no one other than the Dark Lord had seen his potential and nurtured it. Even after begging for their protection eighteen years ago they had been killed and then forever immortalised and once again he was relegated to the shadows. Their son taking James's place as the 'saviour'. How Severus hated them.
Snape had existed in the shadows all his life, treated with fear and caution in the Order and wary distrust among the Death Eaters. Why he had held the vain hope that the Order, the same people who had bullied him in school were the people who would accept him, he would never know.
The only one who understood him was the Dark Lord, the only one perhaps, who knew what it was like to be a mongrel; looked down upon by the Purebloods, the very group he wished for acceptance into, the only who understood was the Dark Lord. But now they would show them, two mongrel half-breeds would rule the wizarding world with an iron fist.
The Dark Lord had taught him to embrace the darkness... that it wasn't something to fear but something to worship. Magic with strength beyond human comprehension, dark magic wasn't for the weak or the fearful. For those who reached towards it fearlessly like the Dark Lord and Severus, dark magic was a generous mistress, abundant with her favours and generous with her blessings. But for those who didn't have the conviction or the gumption it swallowed them whole.
Across the lawn, the graves of the Riddle family were barely visible under the heavy cloud cover but looking at them reminded Severus of his own father, Tobias the drunk as his mother often liked to refer to her estranged husband. His feelings of inadequacy always rose when he was reminded of the man who had beaten him every miserable day of his life and then abandoned Severus's mother when she had told him she was a witch.
The Dark Lord alone knew of his hunger, his ambition and his skill. His need to prove himself to be something other than his father's son.
Oh, Albus had always known but he had never appreciated Snape's affinity to the dark arts. Of-course one couldn't say that Albus didn't know what the dark arts could offer the world, the wizarding kind... even humanity someday if they decided to share.
He had admitted it himself, when he was involved with Grindelwald, Albus had had few scruples. Their magic had been beautiful, powerful and beyond everything... revolutionary. But by the end of it, all Albus was, was an old man. It was just as well he had killed him before he could witness Severus break his promise in the most spectacular fashion.
Many things drove Severus towards undying loyalty to his Lord. None more than a promise he had extracted from the Dark Lord, a promise that would heal the gaping wound left by Lily in his soul. So many years after Potter's death he would have his revenge on both James Potter and the deceitful witch he married. There was another he had his eye on now, one who may not have looked like Lily but mirrored her in most other ways... oh when he had her, it would be glorious, he thought with a smirk as he made his way to the large wooden door of the manor, dragging a chest behind him...a chest that contained the beginnings of his legacy.
...
Tom Riddle heard the quite muttering of the unlocking spell before he heard the door of the house open. His snake like ears picking up even the softest of sounds outside the manor house of his paternal grandparents. He smirked, his most prodigious follower had arrived.
There were so few people worth using Legilimency on, but Severus Snape was the exception. With a mind that brilliant, Riddle had always known it would be touched with madness and indeed he had seen the inside of Severus's mind... the endless walkways of memories, the twisted ideas of revenge, the need for validation, the sore lack of a father and more Slytherin that anything the blind...thirsting ambition... it was all the traits that made him perfectly ripe for the most subtle form of Legilimency, he barely needed a nudge to tumble headfirst into a miasma of revenge.
No one knew how masterful Riddle had become in matters of the mind. During the time he didn't have a body, living like a weak parasite jumping from host to host he had learned all there was to learn about the dark art of manipulation. It wasn't power that was needed for this subtle magic but rather it was the intrinsic understanding of the deepest fears, the darkest desires and the most vulnerable spots that made up the human mind, the webs that made up a person's insecurities, anxieties and the things they were willing to fall to any depths for. Those weren't things he needed to learn to look for, after all it was exactly as Borgin had taught him ...all you need is a single chink in the armour, the Achilles heel, that tiny defect what will flip the tables in your favour.
Severus had many chinks... his pride, his arrogance, his false martyrdom and the biggest of all... his obsession. Moulding him into the perfect spy had been easy and now he would mould him into his own Ares... a god of war, despised and feared he would carry out his reign of destruction like his mythological namesake and give Riddle what he had always wanted...power, magic... immortality.
Today Severus was bringing Riddle a very special package... one that he and his prodigal follower would turn into a weapon of such might that the war was as good as won. Severus was loyal to a fault, he had kept the package safe all these years despite the danger of the items being stolen or falling into incompetent hands that wouldn't know what to do with their power.
Today was the first night of the waxing moon, the perfect night for them to start on the Malus Bestia or the potion of bestial savagery. The muggles from the village rarely ventured near the old Riddle house and so converting it into a Potions lab seemed to be the sensible thing to do. They would begin the brewing of the potions... they would take a full two months to mature fully and only then could they begin conducting the experiments.
"Master." came Severus's nasally voice. "I have arrived." He hefted the oak and gold filigreed trunk that had been hidden in his quarters for the last two years onto the rotting desk of Tom Riddle Senior.
The heavy thud was like music to both their ears.
"Ah Severus." hissed out Riddle... a serpentine smile on his narrow, pale face, "We must begin post-haste, the moon grows weaker in the sky."
Severus didn't mind the abrupt way his master directed him, in fact the urgency of this tone matched the urgency within Severus... he was mere months away from his true legacy, from recognition and adulation. They could wait no longer.
He flipped open the case... revealing the carefully preserved dark magic cores and in the moonlight two pairs of eyes looked down at them in greed.
...
Stormhaven Castle
Present Day, (May 1999)
"You're sure, Granger." said the Italian wizard, looking into her eyes intently, "You understand that you could be hurt, Draco and I will do everything possible to make sure you remain unharmed, but the bonding does come with risk. But it keeps the others living around the castle safe."
"Why are we doing a bonding ceremony if I could get hurt, doesn't make sense to me."
"Because bonding you to Draco, especially with 'Ti's special runes will trick the Nandu into thinking you're his mate. That makes the fight two against one, his human and his leopard beast against the Shroud. The mating bond that it creates will help in keeping his head clear of influence longer. And for the safety of the other people who live in this castle its better if the Shroud gets its energy from one source and doesn't have to go hunting."
"What sort of bond it is?" she said, biting her lip unsurely.
"Look, why don't you ask Draco directly. You haven't spoken to each other in so long and the Shroud generally rests after a large intake of magic like that." Blaise suggested gently.
"See Draco..." Hermione whispered, stopping her pacing, "Yes... yes that's what I want. I want to see him."
"Get dressed, Betty will look after the wolfling. I'll take you to him." said Blaise quickly giving her a short bow and then walking out of the dungeon room, "I'll come fetch you in ten minutes."
Hermione hurried over to the rack of clothes in her room, it was mostly functional... jeans, t-shirts and tights but she caught sight of one long white skirt which she slipped on and a blue pheasant top. She felt nervous... jittery, she didn't know what she would do when she saw Draco. Last night it hadn't been him so pushing her sadness aside had been easy but today... in the light of day, she just wasn't so sure.
Mustn't dawdle, she thought as she went over to the washstand to fix her hair and brush her teeth, the one week she had spent in Stormhaven castle had done away with a lot of the physical damage of living on the run. Her thick, corkscrew curls were much heathier now and her warm olive skin once again shone with the lustre that could only take place with good food and plenty of fresh air.
"He likes it long."
She suddenly recalled Betty saying to her the first day, she must have been referring to Draco. It pained her to think that they had lived in the same place for so much time, but he hadn't come to her.
She looked at herself in the mirror and pinched her cheeks, leaving her hair down as Draco had always liked it. The dark circles under her eyes were gone now but the anxious crease that always appeared in the middle of her brows was back... she lifted a finger to sooth it away, trying on a smile for the first time.
Why hadn't he come to see her? Was it just these things inside him or did his human half feel some resentment as well. As much as Blaise assured her of Draco's love, she was unsure and fearful... she was the reason he was like this now.
As she continued to spiral into hopelessness and self-pity, Blaise returned, noticing the slightly dazed look in her eyes he cleared his throat.
"Come on, we have to spring it on him. He's been fighting with himself for days on whether or not to see you. If you just walk in, he won't have a choice. Besides being stuck up in that godforsaken tower just makes him brood even worse than before."
"Oh, dear Merlin he does like to brood, that man." sighed Hermione, the words slipping out of her mouth unconsciously. After realizing what she had said she slapped a hand on her mouth and grinned up at Blaise sheepishly.
He just winked back and gave a little laugh, gesturing for her to put her hand on his arm he led her out of the room.
Hermione looked at Zabini covertly from under her lashes, she had never expected the complex man hidden behind the façade of royal ennui he affected almost every day. She knew that expression, his deep eyes held secrets she knew he would never share... she had seen it often enough on Harry's face, but his unexpectedly fierce loyalty was a trait so rare in a Slytherin that she couldn't help but be curious.
"Why do you care so much about Draco, Zabini?" she asked curiously.
"I was in love with him." He said casually.
Hermione didn't allow her shock to show and instead said, "Oh... then what happened?"
Blaise grinned down at her, "I don't think you understand, Granger. I knew I was in love with him since we were eleven and I hated myself. I confessed out of shame at fourteen... I don't know... maybe I was looking for a fight thinking it might get rid of some of the shame I was feeling, but he just shrugged, wiped my tears and said we'd be friends forever. See he had known since we were eleven too." He said with a laugh, "I'll remember that afternoon for the rest of my life... it was the summer before fourth year and we were at his family's estate in Wiltshire; he never threatened to tell, not once, never held it over my head... never."
Hermione squeezed his arm where her hand rested, letting him know without words that it was okay... she understood that he didn't want to have to give everything away.
"That's why I was so glad when you two..." he said softly, clearing his throat awkwardly when she looked away. "He deserved some happiness in his life..."
While he was answering her question, he had led her all the way to the forbidden East wing, "I'm going to stop here." He said, "I have someplace to be, but Draco's study is the third door to the right of the hallway. He'll be in right now. Best of luck." He squeezed her hand gently before giving her a smile.
Hermione sighed before willing herself to stop shaking, the magic around the door that led to the East Wing continued to disturb her but now she knew the source was Draco, so her anxiety was somewhat eased.
She pushed the door open and headed inside. The dark hallways were eerie, her feet made no sound as she made her way to his study's door.
She took a deep, cleansing breath and knocked.
"Enter." Came the muffled voice from behind the door.
Hermione opened the door to see Draco Malfoy hunched over his desk, his face in his hands, his back hunched over...
"Draco?" she whispered tentatively.
"Oh god Granger." He gave a strangled gasp as soon as he heard her voice and when Hermione saw familiar silver eyes, she couldn't stop her feet... and just like that she was in his arms.
She didn't know who had moved first but they had come together in the middle of the room, he was so different now, taller, harder but he still smelt the same. Hermione heart thudded un uneven rhythm as she felt his strong, brawny arms tighten around her middle. She had missed him terribly
"I'm sorry." His voice was scratchy, his face buried in her hair, "I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry to." She murmured against his chest, feeling a sense of relief as his heart thumped... strong and true under her ear. And in that moment Hermione was so thankful he was alive that she forget all about the looming threats in front of her. "I missed you so much." she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears.
"Here." He said, pulling away from her, "I want you to put this on." He held a little dragon pendant, carved out of wood and tied on a plain, black string, "It's to protect you."
"Protect me from what, Draco?"
"From me... in case I kill you."
A/N- Hello friends, thank you so much for the love on the last chapter! I've really enjoyed reading all of you guys reviews and suggestions. we're in full Dramione mode now, so get ready for some nice steamy lemons soon. Other than that, I hope everyone is doing okay and is safe during this scary time. Maintain six-feet distance and wash your hands, kids!
And leave a review!
PS- Also shout out to BlackOpium4 on AO3 for the protection amulet idea, hope you don't mind that I nicked it lol
