Chapter Nine: Summer Nights
Severus had never really looked forward to summers before this one. They had been full of loneliness and stifled fear, for the most part, and insane boredom for the other part. But he had neither to worry about this year. His days (and nights) would be spent with Lucius, and he had nothing to fear anymore. He was a Death Eater now. Didn't that count for something?
The thought of Lucius marrying had drifted to the back of his mind, put aside to worry about a different day along with other childhood fears. Surely he wouldn't marry for years. Lucius was not even seventeen yet. Marriage was for adults, not children. And, to Snape, they were both still children.
As he stood once again in the entrance to Malfoy Manor, the anxiety of previous nights was gone, at least for the time being. To the young, past trauma is like a mere nightmare, terrifying but short-lived. Severus thought himself awake now, free from the dark dreams. For now, he was with Lucius, who was holding his hand as Chloris Malfoy swept towards them. He was with Lucius. And that was enough.
"Hello, darlings," crooned the half-Veela woman, brushing aside the house-elves who were bringing in the boys' belongings. "How was the trainride?"
"Long and crowded," stated Lucius in a bored monotone, dropping Severus' hand as his mother gathered him into a hug. He bore it dutifully for a moment, but when she tried to kiss his cheek, he pushed her away, his blonde head held high with Malfoy pride. "Mother," he chastised.
She gave him a wan smile and stroked his hair, now just past his shoulders. For the most part now, he kept it pulled into a ponytail, claiming that it 'got in the way.' But he knew that Severus loved it long too much for him to allow it to be cut off. Now it hung loosely, as Snape had tugged the tie from it earlier on the ride home from his convenient perch on Lucius' lap.
Chloris lifted Lucius chin to look down at him. "I've missed you." The boy shook off her caress and started for the stairs, waiting at the bottom for Severus. But she had already wrapped her arms around the shoulders of the younger boy. Snape did not struggle against the embrace, as Lucius had done. To him, it seemed warm and inviting, like a welcome home after a long absence. Chloris straightened after a moment. "We are all so glad to have you here, Severus. I hope that you will make yourself at home."
"Thank you," he responded before hurrying after the impatient Malfoy boy, who was tapping his foot against the bottom step.
The part-Veela woman watched as the two boys hurried up the stairs, as their hands brushed against each others' and as their fingers entangled. A hint of a smile flickered across her face. She could remember being young and in love, in the days where the touch of a hand caused a flush to break across her nearly bloodless cheeks, where a whisper had been deliciously tantalizing.
Those had been the days before she had joined, before power had become more seducing than kisses, before blood flowed more freely than champagne, before the Brand on her arm became more binding than the band on her finger.
She gazed after the two retreating figures, her pale eyes lingering longer on the young Snape. She wondered which had seduced the boy into joining... the power or her own son. And she wondered which held the greater control over him.
She wondered...
* * *
Severus stood at the entrance to his room. "My room," he spoke aloud, whisper-soft, letting the words roll over his tongue in an attempt to become accustomed to the sound and the idea.
To speak quite plainly, it was nothing like his old room, which he had decorated... or, undecorated, as the case had been... after his own tastes. The walls had been stripped bare of portraits and wall hangings down to the naked stone. The centuries-old tapestry that had hung above his bed had been deposited in the hallway for the house-elves to deal with. A bed and dresser had been the only major furnishings in his room, save for a few tables that contained school things and the slim possessions he had owned.
It had been nothing like... this.
He worked hard to keep his nose from wrinkling at the elaborately and, in his mind, distastefully, decorated room. The Malfoys were quite rich, it was easy to say. It was even easier to say that they loved to display their riches high standing in the ornamentation of their home.
The room was practically drowning in green. Slytherin green, naturally. It draped in folds of rich fabric around the edges of the ceiling and hung heavily from the banisters of his curtained bed. The plush carpet beneath the over-large, black wood bed was, predictably, green, with fringes of silver. An impressive-sized chiffonier stood stolidly against one side of the room, facing a low, green-cushioned couch on the other.
Antique paintings dwelled on the walls and, the one thing reminiscent of Severus' former room, a tapestry hung above his bed. It was of the ancient sign of continuity, a serpent swallowing its own tail. A phrase in Latin was stitched into the piece, something he was unable to translate from his brief knowledge of the language.
Candelabras courted the stone around the room, their light flickering gold against green. But apparently, their illumination had not been enough, as a silver chandelier hung from the high ceiling.
He shook his head and released a sigh. This would take a bit of getting used to.
His suitcases stood against the wall. Three suitcases were there... three suitcases that held all he had cared to take away with him from Snape Manor. The items within had not even been magically shrunk to fit.
Three suitcases. That was his life contained.
He reached for the first one and laid it on the bed, his feet sinking into the thick rug with his weight. Slowly, he began to unpack.
* * *
He needn't have worried about his lack of belongings. The Malfoys seemed to have thought to provide him with all he could possibly need, and more. The chiffonier had been already filled with robes that bore a double 'S' on the breast and with fitted trousers and more shirts than he had ever cared to own.
He shook his head in slight amusement. Though he had always had more than enough gold, he had seldom felt the desire to spend it, unless it was on texts. One of the three suitcases had been filled with nothing but books, all of which were now placed carefully in the bookcase near the bed.
After stripping his clothes and laying them over the back of the chair at the desk, he climbed into the bed, leaving one side of the curtains open... the side that provided a view towards the door. "Diminuendo," he spoke aloud, and at the command, the lights dimmed dramatically, to where all but the faintest light was extinguished.
Then he closed his eyes and curled beneath the covers, his black hair scattered across emerald pillows.
Right as expected, his door swung open not two minutes later to reveal a blonde head. "Sev?" The whisper floated to his ears, and he fought the urge to smile. Lucius stepped further into the room and made his way to the bed. "Sev."
He made no response to the inquiries and pretended to go on sleeping, his breathing deep and even. Lucius let out a frustrated sigh and climbed onto the bed. "Merlin, Snape, I know you're not this deep of a sleeper. Come off it."
Still nothing.
He growled and fiercely pressed his lips to the slightly parted ones of the boy, and then let out a surprised gasp as Snape's arms came up around him, crushing the two bodies together. Severus' tongue darted out to tangle in Lucius' mouth, and the elder responded with his own desire as soon as he had recovered from the shock.
Needless to say, it did not take Malfoy long to recover, as he soon had Snape pinned down against the bed, his weight pushing Snape into the mattress. He kissed him hard, biting his lower lip as his hands slid up beneath Severus' stomach, running over sinewy muscles and soft skin.
Snape reached over to draw the curtain closed around his bed, but Lucius caught his hand and pulled it back. He broke away from the kiss, licking his reddened lips. "Come to my room, Sev."
He arched an eyebrow. "Why should I?"
"Because I told you to." He pressed another long, hungry kiss to Snape's mouth before sliding from the bed. "Come on. I've got silk sheets, besides."
"Nice line, Malfoy."
Lucius paused at the doorway to his room and glanced back at his friend. "It got you, didn't it?" And with that he disappeared inside, leaving Severus to stare after him.
* * *
The summer passed quickly, it seemed, especially for the two Slytherin boys who shared a bed on all but the muggiest of nights. On those nights they came to a truce and spent the night alone, bodies naked and devoid of sheets, curtains drawn around the bed to preserve what cool air existed.
Even if they were not wrapped in desire, the boys were accustomed to sleeping together in the king-sized beds that were far too big for one boy. On warmer nights, they left the windows opened and pressed together beneath silken sheets, content to lie together without movement.
But Severus knew Lucius well enough to know when a simple embrace would not be enough for the night. Those midnight hours would be spent like fine wine, laced with passion and desire and tinged with blackness. Both would yawn over breakfast the next morning and share a glance over biscuits.
Besides such nights, being fourteen and a Death Eater did not merit much. Of course, he did get to bear the most obvious of Marks on his arm... and he would most likely never be able to go swimming in the lake again do to the risks of it being spotted. There had been one meeting over the summer, but neither boys had been allowed to attend.
Just when Snape had begun to wonder why he had bothered to join so early, Lucius knocked at his door. The look on his face was strange... detached somehow. Snape looked up from where he had been sprawled across his bed, writing a History of Magic essay. He frowned. "Lucius... is something wrong?"
"Get ready," he said before turning away.
"For what?"
Pale eyes stared back at him, not quite seeing. "He's coming to visit."
"Who is?"
But no answer was really necessary. Voldemort was coming.
He descended a short time later, dressed in fresh robes and his hair held back, like Lucius', with a black ribbon. Tendrils escaped the tie, as his mane was not yet as long as his friend's was. A few more years, perhaps.
It was one of the last hot days of summer, sweltering in intensity and languid in passing. The air hung in the corridors like water, and beneath his robes, Snape was sweating.
He longed to go and lay outside with Lucius in nothing but their trousers. But he had an obligation today. Voldemort was waiting.
As he opened the door to the Malfoy parlor, Severus Snape had a sinking feeling that their summer nights were over.
END CHAPTER NINE
Author's Note: Forgive the incredible delay in updates, but I've been stumped on this. Have now been redirected and hopefully more updates are on the way shortly.
For Storm, since she waited oh-so-long.
Severus had never really looked forward to summers before this one. They had been full of loneliness and stifled fear, for the most part, and insane boredom for the other part. But he had neither to worry about this year. His days (and nights) would be spent with Lucius, and he had nothing to fear anymore. He was a Death Eater now. Didn't that count for something?
The thought of Lucius marrying had drifted to the back of his mind, put aside to worry about a different day along with other childhood fears. Surely he wouldn't marry for years. Lucius was not even seventeen yet. Marriage was for adults, not children. And, to Snape, they were both still children.
As he stood once again in the entrance to Malfoy Manor, the anxiety of previous nights was gone, at least for the time being. To the young, past trauma is like a mere nightmare, terrifying but short-lived. Severus thought himself awake now, free from the dark dreams. For now, he was with Lucius, who was holding his hand as Chloris Malfoy swept towards them. He was with Lucius. And that was enough.
"Hello, darlings," crooned the half-Veela woman, brushing aside the house-elves who were bringing in the boys' belongings. "How was the trainride?"
"Long and crowded," stated Lucius in a bored monotone, dropping Severus' hand as his mother gathered him into a hug. He bore it dutifully for a moment, but when she tried to kiss his cheek, he pushed her away, his blonde head held high with Malfoy pride. "Mother," he chastised.
She gave him a wan smile and stroked his hair, now just past his shoulders. For the most part now, he kept it pulled into a ponytail, claiming that it 'got in the way.' But he knew that Severus loved it long too much for him to allow it to be cut off. Now it hung loosely, as Snape had tugged the tie from it earlier on the ride home from his convenient perch on Lucius' lap.
Chloris lifted Lucius chin to look down at him. "I've missed you." The boy shook off her caress and started for the stairs, waiting at the bottom for Severus. But she had already wrapped her arms around the shoulders of the younger boy. Snape did not struggle against the embrace, as Lucius had done. To him, it seemed warm and inviting, like a welcome home after a long absence. Chloris straightened after a moment. "We are all so glad to have you here, Severus. I hope that you will make yourself at home."
"Thank you," he responded before hurrying after the impatient Malfoy boy, who was tapping his foot against the bottom step.
The part-Veela woman watched as the two boys hurried up the stairs, as their hands brushed against each others' and as their fingers entangled. A hint of a smile flickered across her face. She could remember being young and in love, in the days where the touch of a hand caused a flush to break across her nearly bloodless cheeks, where a whisper had been deliciously tantalizing.
Those had been the days before she had joined, before power had become more seducing than kisses, before blood flowed more freely than champagne, before the Brand on her arm became more binding than the band on her finger.
She gazed after the two retreating figures, her pale eyes lingering longer on the young Snape. She wondered which had seduced the boy into joining... the power or her own son. And she wondered which held the greater control over him.
She wondered...
* * *
Severus stood at the entrance to his room. "My room," he spoke aloud, whisper-soft, letting the words roll over his tongue in an attempt to become accustomed to the sound and the idea.
To speak quite plainly, it was nothing like his old room, which he had decorated... or, undecorated, as the case had been... after his own tastes. The walls had been stripped bare of portraits and wall hangings down to the naked stone. The centuries-old tapestry that had hung above his bed had been deposited in the hallway for the house-elves to deal with. A bed and dresser had been the only major furnishings in his room, save for a few tables that contained school things and the slim possessions he had owned.
It had been nothing like... this.
He worked hard to keep his nose from wrinkling at the elaborately and, in his mind, distastefully, decorated room. The Malfoys were quite rich, it was easy to say. It was even easier to say that they loved to display their riches high standing in the ornamentation of their home.
The room was practically drowning in green. Slytherin green, naturally. It draped in folds of rich fabric around the edges of the ceiling and hung heavily from the banisters of his curtained bed. The plush carpet beneath the over-large, black wood bed was, predictably, green, with fringes of silver. An impressive-sized chiffonier stood stolidly against one side of the room, facing a low, green-cushioned couch on the other.
Antique paintings dwelled on the walls and, the one thing reminiscent of Severus' former room, a tapestry hung above his bed. It was of the ancient sign of continuity, a serpent swallowing its own tail. A phrase in Latin was stitched into the piece, something he was unable to translate from his brief knowledge of the language.
Candelabras courted the stone around the room, their light flickering gold against green. But apparently, their illumination had not been enough, as a silver chandelier hung from the high ceiling.
He shook his head and released a sigh. This would take a bit of getting used to.
His suitcases stood against the wall. Three suitcases were there... three suitcases that held all he had cared to take away with him from Snape Manor. The items within had not even been magically shrunk to fit.
Three suitcases. That was his life contained.
He reached for the first one and laid it on the bed, his feet sinking into the thick rug with his weight. Slowly, he began to unpack.
* * *
He needn't have worried about his lack of belongings. The Malfoys seemed to have thought to provide him with all he could possibly need, and more. The chiffonier had been already filled with robes that bore a double 'S' on the breast and with fitted trousers and more shirts than he had ever cared to own.
He shook his head in slight amusement. Though he had always had more than enough gold, he had seldom felt the desire to spend it, unless it was on texts. One of the three suitcases had been filled with nothing but books, all of which were now placed carefully in the bookcase near the bed.
After stripping his clothes and laying them over the back of the chair at the desk, he climbed into the bed, leaving one side of the curtains open... the side that provided a view towards the door. "Diminuendo," he spoke aloud, and at the command, the lights dimmed dramatically, to where all but the faintest light was extinguished.
Then he closed his eyes and curled beneath the covers, his black hair scattered across emerald pillows.
Right as expected, his door swung open not two minutes later to reveal a blonde head. "Sev?" The whisper floated to his ears, and he fought the urge to smile. Lucius stepped further into the room and made his way to the bed. "Sev."
He made no response to the inquiries and pretended to go on sleeping, his breathing deep and even. Lucius let out a frustrated sigh and climbed onto the bed. "Merlin, Snape, I know you're not this deep of a sleeper. Come off it."
Still nothing.
He growled and fiercely pressed his lips to the slightly parted ones of the boy, and then let out a surprised gasp as Snape's arms came up around him, crushing the two bodies together. Severus' tongue darted out to tangle in Lucius' mouth, and the elder responded with his own desire as soon as he had recovered from the shock.
Needless to say, it did not take Malfoy long to recover, as he soon had Snape pinned down against the bed, his weight pushing Snape into the mattress. He kissed him hard, biting his lower lip as his hands slid up beneath Severus' stomach, running over sinewy muscles and soft skin.
Snape reached over to draw the curtain closed around his bed, but Lucius caught his hand and pulled it back. He broke away from the kiss, licking his reddened lips. "Come to my room, Sev."
He arched an eyebrow. "Why should I?"
"Because I told you to." He pressed another long, hungry kiss to Snape's mouth before sliding from the bed. "Come on. I've got silk sheets, besides."
"Nice line, Malfoy."
Lucius paused at the doorway to his room and glanced back at his friend. "It got you, didn't it?" And with that he disappeared inside, leaving Severus to stare after him.
* * *
The summer passed quickly, it seemed, especially for the two Slytherin boys who shared a bed on all but the muggiest of nights. On those nights they came to a truce and spent the night alone, bodies naked and devoid of sheets, curtains drawn around the bed to preserve what cool air existed.
Even if they were not wrapped in desire, the boys were accustomed to sleeping together in the king-sized beds that were far too big for one boy. On warmer nights, they left the windows opened and pressed together beneath silken sheets, content to lie together without movement.
But Severus knew Lucius well enough to know when a simple embrace would not be enough for the night. Those midnight hours would be spent like fine wine, laced with passion and desire and tinged with blackness. Both would yawn over breakfast the next morning and share a glance over biscuits.
Besides such nights, being fourteen and a Death Eater did not merit much. Of course, he did get to bear the most obvious of Marks on his arm... and he would most likely never be able to go swimming in the lake again do to the risks of it being spotted. There had been one meeting over the summer, but neither boys had been allowed to attend.
Just when Snape had begun to wonder why he had bothered to join so early, Lucius knocked at his door. The look on his face was strange... detached somehow. Snape looked up from where he had been sprawled across his bed, writing a History of Magic essay. He frowned. "Lucius... is something wrong?"
"Get ready," he said before turning away.
"For what?"
Pale eyes stared back at him, not quite seeing. "He's coming to visit."
"Who is?"
But no answer was really necessary. Voldemort was coming.
He descended a short time later, dressed in fresh robes and his hair held back, like Lucius', with a black ribbon. Tendrils escaped the tie, as his mane was not yet as long as his friend's was. A few more years, perhaps.
It was one of the last hot days of summer, sweltering in intensity and languid in passing. The air hung in the corridors like water, and beneath his robes, Snape was sweating.
He longed to go and lay outside with Lucius in nothing but their trousers. But he had an obligation today. Voldemort was waiting.
As he opened the door to the Malfoy parlor, Severus Snape had a sinking feeling that their summer nights were over.
END CHAPTER NINE
Author's Note: Forgive the incredible delay in updates, but I've been stumped on this. Have now been redirected and hopefully more updates are on the way shortly.
For Storm, since she waited oh-so-long.