Disclaimer:

All things not Allosia or Gabriel belong to JKR.

------

When Allosia was not early for dinner, Snape became impatient. When she was not even on time for dinner, he became angry. When the first official dinner with all the faculty for the new year had concluded though, he began to worry. When a lone owl flew in and dropped a note in front of him, much to Gabriel's fidgety delight, Snape blanched. It was from Lucius. He recognized the paper.

He tore it open roughly, several of the other teachers, who were also becoming somewhat concerned about the situation, stopping to watch.

Sevi —

You might want to pop by tonight. I have something that might interest you.

Your old friend,

Lucius

Snape started up from the table so violently, Gabriel almost fell off his lap. He grabbed the boy, plunked him down in his seat, and strode over to Dumbledore.

"Lucius has Allosia," he said, sharply.

Dumbledore looked concerned and extended his hand for the letter Snape was clutching without comment. Reading its few words, he asked, "You're sure?"

"There's no question." He was practically shaking, and it was clear that rage was the dominant emotion.

"What can I do?" Dumbledore asked, trying to focus the situation.

Snape couldn't think clearly for a moment. "Gabriel," he whispered.

"We'll take care of him, Severus," Dumbeldore said, patting the professor's arm.

"Thank you," he said, his voice raw with emotion. Quickly he went back to his chair and bent down over Gabriel. "The headmaster is going to watch you for a little while, alright? I have to fetch your mother."

"Mommy!" the boy shouted, with an oblivious joy. Snape sighed, his shoulders sagging. "I need you to behave. It's extra important tonight, yes?"

"All right," the boy said solemnly trying to imitate the frown that almost always graced Snape's face when he was contemplating anything.

Snape nodded for a moment, unsure of what else to do, and then turned, and strode out of the hall as fast as he could without breaking into a run.

"This isn't good is it, Sir?" Hagrid asked Dumbledore.

No one had it in them to answer.

Severus Snape pounded on Lucius Malfoy's front door with his broomstick as hard as he could, absently thinking he hoped he managed to at least mar the paint although the man deserved far fouler marks on his door to warn the unsuspecting away.

When the door opened, and it was Lucius himself standing there. Snape was shocked, although he recovered himself quickly and managed not to assault the man.

"Where is she?" he asked, pushing past Malfoy.

"You're usually not so eager for my presents, Severus."

"You've proved your damn point, Lucius, now I'd like to see my wife."

"If you insist, although I suspect she'd like to freshen up a bit for you first."

At that, Snape got a sick feeling, but proceeded to follow Lucius to the sitting room; it was all he could do. They sat, Lucius in an antique chair, Snape at the end of a matching couch.

"Coffee, tea?" Lucius asked calmly.

Snape realized Lucius' drawing this out was, in an odd way, a good sign. Had something really awful happened, Lucius wouldn't have been able to show this type of restraint and Snape would know by now.

He ignored the question. "Is she downstairs?" he asked, getting up to pace.

"Yes, my son's with her."

Snape flew out of the room then and rushed down the stairs into the notorious Malfoy basement. The sight he saw knocked the air out of him.

Allosia was curled up on her side, asleep on a divan. Her face was bruised, scratched and cut and there were ligature marks on her wrists and neck. Her ankle was bandaged, and Snape wondered absently if Lucius liked this sort of ugliness or just didn't have the common sense to bother to heal someone's injuries. Sitting next to her was Draco Malfoy, one of his hands resting on her shoulder. Crabbe sat in the corner, in a green leather chair, smoking a cigarette.

"Get away from my wife," he hissed, striding towards where Allosia lay. The younger Malfoy jumped out of the way, and Snape took his seat, crooning Allosia's name softly until she opened her eyes as much as she could at him. Gods, she looked horrible.

"Severus," she whispered hoarsely and tried to smile.

"Are you alright?" he asked, recognizing the stupidity of the question.

"I'm glad you're here," she said and dropped her head into his lap.

"I don't appreciate the vandalism, Mr. Maloy," he said, turning his attention to his former student.

Quitely and with bite, the young man replied. "You should thank me. This would have been a lot worse without my intervention."

"Really?" Snape said, his voice getting icy. With his presumptions, it was hard to imagine worse.

"Yes, really," he said, crouching in front of them, and then dropping his voice. "My father intended to see what you find so appealing about her, if you get my meaning. I stopped him."

"How?"

"I told him a man like you would be more wounded by visual damage to the trophy that finally made him appear to be part of the human race." The malice and pride in his voice would have been awe-inspiring under other circumstances.

"And what did I do to incur this debt to you, Mr. Malfoy, presuming, of course that neither you nor your pugilistic friend here indulged your curiosities either?" Snape was unbelievably grateful, but also very scared. People were not doing what he expected them to, and that was dangerous. He struggled to keep his face a mask as Allosia gripped tightly at his robes, riding out some pain or other.

"I find neither power nor meaningful ambition in severing others, Severus. Incurring your debt however may well serve myself." He said quietly.

Snape looked at him then hard, and squinted. There were two implications here, the first being that he had had no real concern for Snape, Allosia or his own father and was just doing what he had to in order to improve his own situation. The second, however, was more interesting, and implied that being a Death Eater was not rewarding him as he had expected. Snape nodded slowly.

"You take my meanings then?" he asked, standing and backing away from them.

"I do, which doesn't mean I trust or approve of them," said, turning his attention back to his wife. "Allosia, sweet, it's time to go," he whispered, as if this were merely another social engagement. He could hardly stand to look at her, and he wondered, disgusted with himself, at how right the Malfoy child had been.

She stirred then and looked at him pleadingly. There was no way she was walking up those stairs.

Turning to Malfoy again, he said, "Have your father call us a carriage," and when he saw the slightest bit of hesitation on his face, he added, "NOW," which reminded the younger man very much of when he was a student.

With that, Snape levitated his wife, and guided her up the stairs. What little part of him wasn't concentrating on this task was vividly imaging eviscerating Lucius Malfoy.