Chapter Seven: Quidditch in the Morning, Death in the Afternoon
There was always a buzz of excitement on the morning before a Quidditch match, especially between the two greatest rivals of the school- Slytherin and Gryffindor. Poisoned looks shot back and forth across the Great Hall all through breakfast, ceasing only with the arrival of the morning owl delivery.
Severus looked around anxiously for Javert, but the dark owl was nowhere in sight. He sighed and returned to his oatmeal. Next to him, Lucius was silent, completely devoted to his tradition of reading "Seeker's Scripture," as he did before every single Quidditch match. He claimed that it helped him focus and perform better. Snape knew better than to object.
Twenty minutes later, Lucius closed the book with a slam that shook Snape out of his reverie and tucked it inside his robes. "Com'on, Sev, I've gotta change before the match."
"'Kay." He pushed his bowl towards the middle of the table and rose with Lucius. They made their way through the halls before arriving in Lucius' dorm. It was empty, as it usually was at this time of day.
Snape perched on the edge of the bed, watching as Lucius changed into his silver and green Quidditch robes. After pulling on his boots, he glanced up at Severus with a hurt look. "Don't I get a good luck kiss?"
He didn't need much more encouragement than that, and was soon pressed against the older boy, kissing him firmly and deeply before pulling away. Lucius' hands reluctantly let go of the black locks as the younger boy moved away. "Luck, Lucius."
He cocked an eyebrow at Snape, who was smiling in that strange way he had. Sometimes, he was never quite sure what the boy was thinking. And he had yet to decide whether or not he liked that. "Thanks." He pulled his shoulder-length blonde hair back into a ponytail, looking in the mirror at Severus. It was... arousing how Severus looked at him, like he couldn't get enough of what he was seeing, like he was memorizing the curves of his body in case he never got the chance again.
Lucius liked it, liked knowing that Severus nearly idolized him, needed him, wanted him... loved him. It gave him almost a power over the boy.
Not that he wanted to exert any power over Severus... but still, it was there. Faintly, vaguely... but definitely there.
He turned abruptly, with a swish of his ponytail, and headed out of the room, beckoning for Snape to follow him. And, like always, he did. Sometimes Lucius wondered if Snape would follow him to the very pits of hell, if he was promised a kiss once he got there.
And sometimes, Severus wondered the same thing.
* * *
The stands were absolutely packed. The other Slytherins jostled Snape, as he was still one of the smaller boys in their house despite his gaining height, aside as they fought for the best seats. But all he need do was pull out his wand for the other boys to give way and allow him the choice seat.
With a whistle-shriek, the game started. Every time he watched, he longed to be a part of it, to be flying up there, caught up in the action and suspense and frustration and pure adrenaline. He wondered, wanted to know, if playing Quidditch gave the sort of rush that making love to Lucius did.
According to the blonde Slytherin, it did. Or, even if he hadn't said it in so many words, he made it rather apparent that it did. Next to Severus, Quidditch was Lucius' greatest passion. The boy seemed meant to fly, made for the skies. As graceful and powerful as he seemed on the ground, it was all magnified once he mounted a broom.
And the skies loved him as much as Severus did. The winds played with flyaway strands of white-gold hair that escaped the clutches of the ponytail, and the clouds blended with his pale gray eyes, making him seem not-quite-real.
But Snape was not made for Quidditch, as Lucius was, at least, not at this point in his life. He was all arms and legs and far too clumsy on a broom to keep up with the fast pace. Besides, in all of the games that he had watched, he had picked up hardly a thing about how to play the sport.
His attention was consumed by Lucius.
True, he knew everything one could possibly know about the Seeker's position, if just to coach Lucius, but outside of that, he knew next to nothing about technique, fouls, or form.
But Merlin, he loved to watch Lucius fly.
He focused his Omnioculars on Lucius' form, drifting above the others. He could just make out the pale eyes darting about for signs of the Snitch. Nearby, the Gryffindor Seeker, a seventh year boy by the name of Longbottom, kept close watch, waiting to tail Lucius whenever he sighted the Snitch.
Snape snorted. It figured. The Gryffindors didn't even have a decent Seeker this year... one that could actually find the Snitch on his own. Not that it mattered. No Seeker Hogwarts currently had could match Lucius.
Applause erupted from everywhere except the Slytherin stands as Potter scored another point, and several Gryffindors shot triumphant glances at their rivals. Snape knew it didn't matter. The Slytherin team could keep up enough until Lucius caught the Snitch and ended the game. Minor victories were unimportant.
True to theory, Lestrange soon took possession of the Quaffle and promptly scored. Besides the Slytherins' thunderous applause, a few of the professors politely applauded. That was when Severus noticed that Professor Mercio was not seated in her usual spot. Strange... she never missed a game.
"Severus."
He looked over his shoulder to see Professor Mercio standing in the aisle, beckoning him over. Standing with a last reluctant look towards Lucius' floating form, he crawled over the dozens of knees to stand with her. She looked down her nose at him. "Come with me, please, Severus."
As he followed her down the stands, he quickly went through anything that he had done recently that could have gotten him in trouble. Strangely enough, he couldn't come up with a single thing... save for the bet with Black and Potter. Perhaps gambling was against school rules. He wasn't quite sure, seeing as how he'd never actually opened the rulebook.
They kept walking away from the Quidditch pitch, so that the git of an announcer, a Hufflepuff named Lockhart, could be heard describing the play. "Lestrange scores again, sadly enough for the valiant Gryffindors, who have gallantly fought their way into second place for the House Cup."
'Shut the hell up,' he thought, glaring back at the pitch, 'and get on with it.'
"That'll show them! Potter scores, completely baffling the Slytherin Seeker with his superb flying skills, which quite nearly equal my own graceful..."
"In your dreams," he muttered darkly, making a mental note to curse Lockhart's hair so that the next time he touched it with a comb, it would fall out.
"... nearly misses taking off Raley's head, I personally believe that to be a foul, in my very humble... Great Merlin, Malfoy's spotted the Snitch!"
At the words, Snape craned his neck around in time to see a streak of green and silver diving down through the crowd of other players, a scarlet blur a bit behind him. But as it became evident that Mercio was not waiting for him to watch, he kept walking, glancing behind him every so often to check the progress of Lucius' erratic flight.
But soon even Lockhart's annoying ramble was drowned out by the distance. With a sigh, he fell into step behind the Slytherin Head of House, who was walking determinedly, her hands clasped behind her back.
She said not a word as they twisted their way through the changing Hogwarts corridors, finally arriving at her office. With a flick of her wand, she summoned a kettle from the corner of the room and poured herself a cup of gently steaming tea. She glanced up at Severus, who stood by the door. "Come in, please, and shut the door." He did so, settling into a deeply cushioned seat in front of her desk. "Tea?"
"No, thanks."
One of her eyebrows arched. "It is rather impolite to decline what is offered you, Severus." She sent a full cup through the air towards him, and he took it, graciously taking a sip. "That's more like it." Seating herself behind the desk, she stared at him with a disconcerting gaze. "You're a fairly bright boy, if what I hear is true... especially in the refined art of Potions. Blessed are those who develop aptitude in such an area. Unfortunately, I cannot count myself among those." She paused to take a drink. "But we all must serve with the talents we have, I suppose."
After contemplating her own statement, she returned her focus to him. "I suppose Lucius has spoken to you."
His brow furrowed. "About... what, Professor?"
"About your duty as a pureblood, and especially your honor as a Snape."
Dark eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "D'you mean... Him?"
"Precisely. I have not had the opportunity, until now, to safely speak to you, but I assumed that Lucius would have, seeing as how you two are so..." her lip curved suggestively, "close."
He nodded once. "He has, but only recently."
Her hand waved through the air dismissively. "Very well. As long as the subject has been mentioned to you. We could greatly use your skills, Severus, you do understand that, don't you? You would be a great asset. He would deeply appreciate it."
Again, the nod. What else could he say? The information swirled round his head. Mercio was a Death Eater. His skills were needed... wanted... as soon as possible... Lucius was to become a Death Eater... Lucius... he couldn't lose Lucius.
He stood, still holding the nearly-untouched cup of tea. "Is that all, Professor? Luc... they will be expecting me back in the Commons."
"It can wait, Severus. Sit." Her voice had changed somehow... she was not someone to be messed with, and yet there was a slight something there... pity, perhaps? Why?
"Yes, ma'am." Obediently, he sat back down, more tensely than before. There was something wrong... something was not right. She kept glancing at letter that lay open in front of her.
Her eyes remained on the letter as she spoke now. "I'm afraid that I have some... news."
Those seven words were the last words Severus would hear before he entered into a new stage of life... a part of his existence defined by hatred and envisioned by anger.
* * *
Lucius clinked his mug of smuggled butterbeer against Lestrange's before draining the last of the drink. "Good game, Marius, don't you agree?"
"Definitely, Malfoy. We kicked their arses."
He laughed, the sound cold and clear in the emptying Common Room. "We always do." His eyes slightly out of focus, he glanced around the room. "Now where the hell is Snape, eh? Never around when you look, always there when you don't."
Lestrange got a wicked look on his face. "And when aren't you looking for that greasy little kid, huh?"
Lucius' eyes glinted dangerously. "You implying something, Lestrange?"
"And what if I am? What're you going to do about it?"
In seconds, Lucius had Marius pinned to the wall. "I could kill you in a heartbeat."
Lestrange raised his hands in surrender. "Whoah, Lucius... I was just asking a question... jeez..."
Malfoy released the handfuls of green robes he had been clutching and backed off. "Sorry," he growled, turning to stalk out of the room, horribly aware that his pale cheeks had taken of a definite tinge.
* * *
Dammit, where was that bloody git? He'd searched almost every side-corridor and hidden nook that he knew of to find Snape, but had not yet succeeded. There were only so many places that he could hide.
But that wasn't the problem. The problem was WHY the hell he was hiding. He had been at the game, he know he had been. But afterwards... not there. He passed Rosier in one of the halls, snogging with his girlfriend. "Evan... seen Severus?"
The fifth year looked up. "Mercio called him away from the game... haven't seen him since."
"Not that you've been looking," Malfoy muttered as Evan returned to the breathless girl pressed against the wall. Mercio, eh? Well then, he'd try there. What did he have to lose?
As he raised his hand to knock on the Professor's door, it opened, revealing Serena Mercio herself. She looked solemnly down her nose at him. "I was wondering when you'd get around to arriving."
"Sorry, I..."
She held up a hand to cut him off and turned around to kneel by the chair in front of her desk. In it sat a shivering, pale-faced boy whose trembling hands held a tea cup, the contents of which were now spilled all over the chair and ground. With a quick spell, the spilt tea was cleaned up. Mercio took the cup from the boy and set it on her desk. She took his shaking hands in hers and kissed the top of the black head, stroking the pale, tear-stained face with a long finger.
Then she rose and turned to Lucius. "You may use my office. It's safe from any... prying." She smiled softly. "But I do ask that any mess you two make you clean up once you're done." She turned back to the boy on the chair. "You are freely excused from all classes until you're ready, Severus."
Lucius blinked. Severus? That trembling, teary boy was Severus?
Before he could ask anything, Mercio had left the room and closed the door behind her. For a moment, he just stared at Snape, who seemed to hardly acknowledge his presence.
Finally, he forced himself to move closer to that chair. He perched on the arm, looking down at Snape, who still refused to look up at him. "Sev?" he whispered. "What is it?"
He shook his head jerkily and held up his hand. In it was clutched a crumpled letter. Gently, Lucius pried the paper from his fingers and opened it. What he saw explained everything. "Headmaster Dumbledore," it read in hurried script, "We greatly regret to inform you that the parents of Severus S. Snape were killed during a struggle with Ministry Aurors yesterday afternoon. Investigations are underway. Severus may remain at school for the remaining term, but upon its completion, he must be relocated to an orphanage, unless otherwise provided for.
Regretfully,
Patrick R. Reyden,
Minister of Magic"
Lucius dropped to his knees in front of the chair, his elbows on either side of Snape's legs. "Oh Sev... oh Merlin..."
Severus slid out of the chair onto Lucius' lap, his shaking becoming worse and worse by the moment. "They're dead... dead, Lucius." Dead... he would never see them again, never argue with them, never go home to them for the summer. Dead.
Lucius was still staring at the letter. Killed in a fight with Aurors... murdered by the self-righteous bastards was more like it. "Damn them," he whispered.
Snape was now trembling violently. "Hate them... hate... I... I want to kill them... hate them... Lucius... Merlin... Mum...."
Lucius wrapped his arms around the shaking boy, who now seemed so much smaller than before, and kissed the top of his head. "I know, Sev... I know."
"I want to kill them."
"You will."
Severus glanced up at the words, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "I will?"
He nodded firmly. "You will." Releasing the boy for a moment, he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a fresh black brand- a skull with a snake for a tongue. His eyes met Snape's. "We will."
His hand reached out and fingered the Dark Mark in slight amazement. Lucius *had* joined after all. And now it was his turn. He would become a Death Eater, would kill every damned Auror he could... he would do it. He swore he would.
He clutched Lucius hand tightly and gave him a firm nod to let him know that his mind was made up. Malfoy smiled slowly, gently, and bent to kiss Snape. The younger boy took comfort in that kiss, found companionship and passion there.
Slowly, Lucius slid Snape from his lap, gradually laying him back until he was flat against the floor. With a graceful finger, he brushed the tears from his cheeks and kissed him again, deeper this time. His other hand began to undo the buttons on Snape's shirt, exposing warm, smooth skin.
Severus clung to his friend desperately, hooking a leg around his waist. His black eyes were large as they looked up, piercing Lucius, needing him. The blonde leaned down close to Snape, his hot breath washing over him. "I'll take care of you, Sev."
He swallowed hard, his grip on Lucius' robes tightening as his own fell away from him under his lover's adept touch. "Promise?"
"Promise," he whispered back, sealing the oath with another kiss, one that left them both breathless. Tomorrow Snape would become one of Voldemort's own, but until then, he could still belong just to Lucius for one more night.
END CHAPTER SEVEN
Author's Note: For a while there, I thought that this was going to be the chapter that never ended. But nine pages later, it did. I was really not expecting the news about Severus' parents... it just sortof... happened.
Thanks ZILLIONS to Nita for coming up with the name Marius. I owe her lots of TMOAL, and on the double!
But first, I have to go study for Physics and English finals. Meep!
There was always a buzz of excitement on the morning before a Quidditch match, especially between the two greatest rivals of the school- Slytherin and Gryffindor. Poisoned looks shot back and forth across the Great Hall all through breakfast, ceasing only with the arrival of the morning owl delivery.
Severus looked around anxiously for Javert, but the dark owl was nowhere in sight. He sighed and returned to his oatmeal. Next to him, Lucius was silent, completely devoted to his tradition of reading "Seeker's Scripture," as he did before every single Quidditch match. He claimed that it helped him focus and perform better. Snape knew better than to object.
Twenty minutes later, Lucius closed the book with a slam that shook Snape out of his reverie and tucked it inside his robes. "Com'on, Sev, I've gotta change before the match."
"'Kay." He pushed his bowl towards the middle of the table and rose with Lucius. They made their way through the halls before arriving in Lucius' dorm. It was empty, as it usually was at this time of day.
Snape perched on the edge of the bed, watching as Lucius changed into his silver and green Quidditch robes. After pulling on his boots, he glanced up at Severus with a hurt look. "Don't I get a good luck kiss?"
He didn't need much more encouragement than that, and was soon pressed against the older boy, kissing him firmly and deeply before pulling away. Lucius' hands reluctantly let go of the black locks as the younger boy moved away. "Luck, Lucius."
He cocked an eyebrow at Snape, who was smiling in that strange way he had. Sometimes, he was never quite sure what the boy was thinking. And he had yet to decide whether or not he liked that. "Thanks." He pulled his shoulder-length blonde hair back into a ponytail, looking in the mirror at Severus. It was... arousing how Severus looked at him, like he couldn't get enough of what he was seeing, like he was memorizing the curves of his body in case he never got the chance again.
Lucius liked it, liked knowing that Severus nearly idolized him, needed him, wanted him... loved him. It gave him almost a power over the boy.
Not that he wanted to exert any power over Severus... but still, it was there. Faintly, vaguely... but definitely there.
He turned abruptly, with a swish of his ponytail, and headed out of the room, beckoning for Snape to follow him. And, like always, he did. Sometimes Lucius wondered if Snape would follow him to the very pits of hell, if he was promised a kiss once he got there.
And sometimes, Severus wondered the same thing.
* * *
The stands were absolutely packed. The other Slytherins jostled Snape, as he was still one of the smaller boys in their house despite his gaining height, aside as they fought for the best seats. But all he need do was pull out his wand for the other boys to give way and allow him the choice seat.
With a whistle-shriek, the game started. Every time he watched, he longed to be a part of it, to be flying up there, caught up in the action and suspense and frustration and pure adrenaline. He wondered, wanted to know, if playing Quidditch gave the sort of rush that making love to Lucius did.
According to the blonde Slytherin, it did. Or, even if he hadn't said it in so many words, he made it rather apparent that it did. Next to Severus, Quidditch was Lucius' greatest passion. The boy seemed meant to fly, made for the skies. As graceful and powerful as he seemed on the ground, it was all magnified once he mounted a broom.
And the skies loved him as much as Severus did. The winds played with flyaway strands of white-gold hair that escaped the clutches of the ponytail, and the clouds blended with his pale gray eyes, making him seem not-quite-real.
But Snape was not made for Quidditch, as Lucius was, at least, not at this point in his life. He was all arms and legs and far too clumsy on a broom to keep up with the fast pace. Besides, in all of the games that he had watched, he had picked up hardly a thing about how to play the sport.
His attention was consumed by Lucius.
True, he knew everything one could possibly know about the Seeker's position, if just to coach Lucius, but outside of that, he knew next to nothing about technique, fouls, or form.
But Merlin, he loved to watch Lucius fly.
He focused his Omnioculars on Lucius' form, drifting above the others. He could just make out the pale eyes darting about for signs of the Snitch. Nearby, the Gryffindor Seeker, a seventh year boy by the name of Longbottom, kept close watch, waiting to tail Lucius whenever he sighted the Snitch.
Snape snorted. It figured. The Gryffindors didn't even have a decent Seeker this year... one that could actually find the Snitch on his own. Not that it mattered. No Seeker Hogwarts currently had could match Lucius.
Applause erupted from everywhere except the Slytherin stands as Potter scored another point, and several Gryffindors shot triumphant glances at their rivals. Snape knew it didn't matter. The Slytherin team could keep up enough until Lucius caught the Snitch and ended the game. Minor victories were unimportant.
True to theory, Lestrange soon took possession of the Quaffle and promptly scored. Besides the Slytherins' thunderous applause, a few of the professors politely applauded. That was when Severus noticed that Professor Mercio was not seated in her usual spot. Strange... she never missed a game.
"Severus."
He looked over his shoulder to see Professor Mercio standing in the aisle, beckoning him over. Standing with a last reluctant look towards Lucius' floating form, he crawled over the dozens of knees to stand with her. She looked down her nose at him. "Come with me, please, Severus."
As he followed her down the stands, he quickly went through anything that he had done recently that could have gotten him in trouble. Strangely enough, he couldn't come up with a single thing... save for the bet with Black and Potter. Perhaps gambling was against school rules. He wasn't quite sure, seeing as how he'd never actually opened the rulebook.
They kept walking away from the Quidditch pitch, so that the git of an announcer, a Hufflepuff named Lockhart, could be heard describing the play. "Lestrange scores again, sadly enough for the valiant Gryffindors, who have gallantly fought their way into second place for the House Cup."
'Shut the hell up,' he thought, glaring back at the pitch, 'and get on with it.'
"That'll show them! Potter scores, completely baffling the Slytherin Seeker with his superb flying skills, which quite nearly equal my own graceful..."
"In your dreams," he muttered darkly, making a mental note to curse Lockhart's hair so that the next time he touched it with a comb, it would fall out.
"... nearly misses taking off Raley's head, I personally believe that to be a foul, in my very humble... Great Merlin, Malfoy's spotted the Snitch!"
At the words, Snape craned his neck around in time to see a streak of green and silver diving down through the crowd of other players, a scarlet blur a bit behind him. But as it became evident that Mercio was not waiting for him to watch, he kept walking, glancing behind him every so often to check the progress of Lucius' erratic flight.
But soon even Lockhart's annoying ramble was drowned out by the distance. With a sigh, he fell into step behind the Slytherin Head of House, who was walking determinedly, her hands clasped behind her back.
She said not a word as they twisted their way through the changing Hogwarts corridors, finally arriving at her office. With a flick of her wand, she summoned a kettle from the corner of the room and poured herself a cup of gently steaming tea. She glanced up at Severus, who stood by the door. "Come in, please, and shut the door." He did so, settling into a deeply cushioned seat in front of her desk. "Tea?"
"No, thanks."
One of her eyebrows arched. "It is rather impolite to decline what is offered you, Severus." She sent a full cup through the air towards him, and he took it, graciously taking a sip. "That's more like it." Seating herself behind the desk, she stared at him with a disconcerting gaze. "You're a fairly bright boy, if what I hear is true... especially in the refined art of Potions. Blessed are those who develop aptitude in such an area. Unfortunately, I cannot count myself among those." She paused to take a drink. "But we all must serve with the talents we have, I suppose."
After contemplating her own statement, she returned her focus to him. "I suppose Lucius has spoken to you."
His brow furrowed. "About... what, Professor?"
"About your duty as a pureblood, and especially your honor as a Snape."
Dark eyes widened as realization dawned on him. "D'you mean... Him?"
"Precisely. I have not had the opportunity, until now, to safely speak to you, but I assumed that Lucius would have, seeing as how you two are so..." her lip curved suggestively, "close."
He nodded once. "He has, but only recently."
Her hand waved through the air dismissively. "Very well. As long as the subject has been mentioned to you. We could greatly use your skills, Severus, you do understand that, don't you? You would be a great asset. He would deeply appreciate it."
Again, the nod. What else could he say? The information swirled round his head. Mercio was a Death Eater. His skills were needed... wanted... as soon as possible... Lucius was to become a Death Eater... Lucius... he couldn't lose Lucius.
He stood, still holding the nearly-untouched cup of tea. "Is that all, Professor? Luc... they will be expecting me back in the Commons."
"It can wait, Severus. Sit." Her voice had changed somehow... she was not someone to be messed with, and yet there was a slight something there... pity, perhaps? Why?
"Yes, ma'am." Obediently, he sat back down, more tensely than before. There was something wrong... something was not right. She kept glancing at letter that lay open in front of her.
Her eyes remained on the letter as she spoke now. "I'm afraid that I have some... news."
Those seven words were the last words Severus would hear before he entered into a new stage of life... a part of his existence defined by hatred and envisioned by anger.
* * *
Lucius clinked his mug of smuggled butterbeer against Lestrange's before draining the last of the drink. "Good game, Marius, don't you agree?"
"Definitely, Malfoy. We kicked their arses."
He laughed, the sound cold and clear in the emptying Common Room. "We always do." His eyes slightly out of focus, he glanced around the room. "Now where the hell is Snape, eh? Never around when you look, always there when you don't."
Lestrange got a wicked look on his face. "And when aren't you looking for that greasy little kid, huh?"
Lucius' eyes glinted dangerously. "You implying something, Lestrange?"
"And what if I am? What're you going to do about it?"
In seconds, Lucius had Marius pinned to the wall. "I could kill you in a heartbeat."
Lestrange raised his hands in surrender. "Whoah, Lucius... I was just asking a question... jeez..."
Malfoy released the handfuls of green robes he had been clutching and backed off. "Sorry," he growled, turning to stalk out of the room, horribly aware that his pale cheeks had taken of a definite tinge.
* * *
Dammit, where was that bloody git? He'd searched almost every side-corridor and hidden nook that he knew of to find Snape, but had not yet succeeded. There were only so many places that he could hide.
But that wasn't the problem. The problem was WHY the hell he was hiding. He had been at the game, he know he had been. But afterwards... not there. He passed Rosier in one of the halls, snogging with his girlfriend. "Evan... seen Severus?"
The fifth year looked up. "Mercio called him away from the game... haven't seen him since."
"Not that you've been looking," Malfoy muttered as Evan returned to the breathless girl pressed against the wall. Mercio, eh? Well then, he'd try there. What did he have to lose?
As he raised his hand to knock on the Professor's door, it opened, revealing Serena Mercio herself. She looked solemnly down her nose at him. "I was wondering when you'd get around to arriving."
"Sorry, I..."
She held up a hand to cut him off and turned around to kneel by the chair in front of her desk. In it sat a shivering, pale-faced boy whose trembling hands held a tea cup, the contents of which were now spilled all over the chair and ground. With a quick spell, the spilt tea was cleaned up. Mercio took the cup from the boy and set it on her desk. She took his shaking hands in hers and kissed the top of the black head, stroking the pale, tear-stained face with a long finger.
Then she rose and turned to Lucius. "You may use my office. It's safe from any... prying." She smiled softly. "But I do ask that any mess you two make you clean up once you're done." She turned back to the boy on the chair. "You are freely excused from all classes until you're ready, Severus."
Lucius blinked. Severus? That trembling, teary boy was Severus?
Before he could ask anything, Mercio had left the room and closed the door behind her. For a moment, he just stared at Snape, who seemed to hardly acknowledge his presence.
Finally, he forced himself to move closer to that chair. He perched on the arm, looking down at Snape, who still refused to look up at him. "Sev?" he whispered. "What is it?"
He shook his head jerkily and held up his hand. In it was clutched a crumpled letter. Gently, Lucius pried the paper from his fingers and opened it. What he saw explained everything. "Headmaster Dumbledore," it read in hurried script, "We greatly regret to inform you that the parents of Severus S. Snape were killed during a struggle with Ministry Aurors yesterday afternoon. Investigations are underway. Severus may remain at school for the remaining term, but upon its completion, he must be relocated to an orphanage, unless otherwise provided for.
Regretfully,
Patrick R. Reyden,
Minister of Magic"
Lucius dropped to his knees in front of the chair, his elbows on either side of Snape's legs. "Oh Sev... oh Merlin..."
Severus slid out of the chair onto Lucius' lap, his shaking becoming worse and worse by the moment. "They're dead... dead, Lucius." Dead... he would never see them again, never argue with them, never go home to them for the summer. Dead.
Lucius was still staring at the letter. Killed in a fight with Aurors... murdered by the self-righteous bastards was more like it. "Damn them," he whispered.
Snape was now trembling violently. "Hate them... hate... I... I want to kill them... hate them... Lucius... Merlin... Mum...."
Lucius wrapped his arms around the shaking boy, who now seemed so much smaller than before, and kissed the top of his head. "I know, Sev... I know."
"I want to kill them."
"You will."
Severus glanced up at the words, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "I will?"
He nodded firmly. "You will." Releasing the boy for a moment, he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a fresh black brand- a skull with a snake for a tongue. His eyes met Snape's. "We will."
His hand reached out and fingered the Dark Mark in slight amazement. Lucius *had* joined after all. And now it was his turn. He would become a Death Eater, would kill every damned Auror he could... he would do it. He swore he would.
He clutched Lucius hand tightly and gave him a firm nod to let him know that his mind was made up. Malfoy smiled slowly, gently, and bent to kiss Snape. The younger boy took comfort in that kiss, found companionship and passion there.
Slowly, Lucius slid Snape from his lap, gradually laying him back until he was flat against the floor. With a graceful finger, he brushed the tears from his cheeks and kissed him again, deeper this time. His other hand began to undo the buttons on Snape's shirt, exposing warm, smooth skin.
Severus clung to his friend desperately, hooking a leg around his waist. His black eyes were large as they looked up, piercing Lucius, needing him. The blonde leaned down close to Snape, his hot breath washing over him. "I'll take care of you, Sev."
He swallowed hard, his grip on Lucius' robes tightening as his own fell away from him under his lover's adept touch. "Promise?"
"Promise," he whispered back, sealing the oath with another kiss, one that left them both breathless. Tomorrow Snape would become one of Voldemort's own, but until then, he could still belong just to Lucius for one more night.
END CHAPTER SEVEN
Author's Note: For a while there, I thought that this was going to be the chapter that never ended. But nine pages later, it did. I was really not expecting the news about Severus' parents... it just sortof... happened.
Thanks ZILLIONS to Nita for coming up with the name Marius. I owe her lots of TMOAL, and on the double!
But first, I have to go study for Physics and English finals. Meep!