Title: Venomous

Author: Phinea Rogue

Rating: PG-13

All the characters belong to JKR . . . (but Tarquinius is a bit of my creation).

Summary for this chapter: Anyone of you ever wondered what was Tarquinius in Azkaban for? Well, Harry's got a problem, so does Severus and how come Tarquinius into all this? A bit of Snape's past unveiled . . .

Chapter Seven

Harry was lifted from the floor by two strong arms and thrown into an armchair so ancient he was sure that only magic held it together. The man with Malfoy-like eyes and Snape-like face settled opposite of him, sporting an all too familiar sneer.

'Who are you?' asked Harry quietly, not sure about what this man wanted from him. He had never seen him before or . . . had he? Was he a Death Eater? But then where were the others?

'So you're that famous Potter,' mused the older wizard while he lightened a cigarette and put it into his mouth. 'Unhealthy habit,' he murmured, 'never try it, boy. I'm Tarquinius Snape, I supposed you've heard of me.'

Harry shook his head. 'No, sir. Are you related to Professor Snape?'

The man threw his head back and laughed. Harry was wondering where he had seen him before.

'He's my son, boy. We're the last of the Snapes. Pity, isn't it?' said Tarquinius. Not waiting for a confirmation, he spoke on, 'Ungrateful little bastard he is, trust me.'

Suddenly, Harry remembered. He had seen him in the vision! He had been the one torturing Snape, standing at Voldemort's side! But . . . 'But . . . but he's your son!' exclaimed Harry incredulously. 'How could you curse him with an Unforgivable?'

Tarquinius sighed heavily, leaning back in the chair in the very same way Snape had done in Aunt Petunia's kitchen. 'I have done it for the first time to him, on Dark Lord's orders. But aren't you a bit too curious? It's none of your business how I used to treat my son!'

'How did you treat him?' Harry couldn't stop himself from asking. Something about this man wasn't right. Tarquinius bent to him and whispered silkily, 'Do you know that you're truly annoying? If I were your father, I would teach you to behave.'

A shiver run through Harry's body and Tarquinius smiled disturbingly. 'If I tell you that I spent the last 25 years in Azkaban for nearly beating my son to death, will that shut you up?'

In an instant, Harry felt his blood freezing. The man must have been joking! That was . . . that was impossible, he couldn't . . . he hadn't . . . Suddenly he felt nauseous as a picture of young Snape from the Pensieve invaded his mind and an uneasy feeling began to well inside him. Even back then Snape had been thin and pale, had it been because of his father? 'Why did you do it?' asked Harry in a horrified whisper, dreading any possible answer. If this man was able to nearly kill his son, what would he do to him? I would never hit a child, Snape had said.

Much to his horror, Tarquinius grabbed his collar, but instead of threatening him, he flung him into a wall. Harry sank to the floor, clutching the wound on his forehead as Tarquinius's yelling reached through a mist of agony surrounding him. 'Will you shut up?' A painful kick descended onto his ribs and Harry heard the awful sound of bones breaking. He screamed and curled up into a ball, trying to protect himself from more kicks. 'What I did was deserved! I LOVE my son! But he has failed me, he's been weak!' roared Tarquinius.

Snape and weak? Harry couldn't imagine when had ever Snape been weak. He knew him as a powerful wizard, very intelligent, he had to admit (unwillingly), and clever. Had Tarquinius wanted him physically strong too? Sirius had said Snape was jealous of James's Quidditch skills . . .

Snape, Snape, why had he run away from him? And where was he now? The Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange . . . Snape had cried out! Was he in trouble now? Harry felt himself leave the dirty floor, Tarquinius had lifted him and carried him to a bed. For a change, he looked worried as he inspected the wound on his forehead. He was kind and Harry found it all the more unsettling. Had he often beaten his son like this when he had been a boy and then tended to his wounds? Oh no, he couldn't imagine Snape beaten, that was so . . . uncharacteristic for him . . . wasn't it? Snape was . . . what was he?

'Don't cry, shhh,' spoke Tarquinius softly, startling Harry, 'Shh, Severus, don't cry, don't . . .' His arms embraced Harry who was now trembling uncontrollably, a hand gently caressing his back, while the other one stroked his hair. Don't cry. This wasn't happening, it couldn't. Sirius had called Snape Snivellus, why? Severus, Severus, this man was insane!

'Why do you have to displease me, Severus? Why do you force me to punish you?'

Harry tried to free himself from the man's arms, but he was too strong for him, bigger and physically stronger than his son was. He could fight Snape (a wandless Snape), but not his father.

'I'm not Severus!' moaned Harry, but Tarquinius didn't seem to notice.

'Severus, Severus,' he whispered into his hair, 'you'll be a good boy now, won't you?'

'Yes, father,' answered Harry and to his relief, Tarquinius let him go. He kissed the top of his head, then walked over to a ruined fireplace and turned his back to him. Harry dared not to move.

§§

'Ssseverusss,' hissed Voldemort, his blood-like eyes fixed at the kneeling man in front of him. The muggle clothes he was wearing disgusted him and he gripped a sleeve of his T-shirt. 'What's this, Severus? And these . . . jeans!'

He yanked his raven hair, hearing a gasp escape from the younger wizard, a gasp which sounded like music to his ears. Gasps of his victims, shrieks, screams and tears, how much he enjoyed them being helpless in his power! Once again he pulled the hair and forced Severus to look at him.

'Will you tell me why your father escaped with Potter and what were you doing there?'

'I went to Potter on Dumbledore's orders, master. I don't know where my father is,' spoke Severus softly, but firmly, his voice not wavering. 'I don't understand it, sir.'

And indeed, Severus was as confused as the Dark Lord was. When Potter had fled, he had followed him, but couldn't catch up with him. And then Bellatrix and four more Death Eaters had appeared out of nothing, surrounding Potter. He had run, but before he could reach them, his father had come running, he had thrown himself at the boy and together they disappeared, leaving the startled Death Eaters behind. Death Eaters who had wondered what he had been doing there, chasing Potter. How was he going to talk himself out of this mess? And where had that idiot of his father gone with Potter?

Voldemort's chilly fingers brushed his cheek tenderly as the crimson red eyes bore deep into Severus's, assaulting his mind with brutal force. Severus was grateful he had practised Occlumency with the most powerful wizard alive, with Dumbledore, Dark Lord's attempt was a challenge he could fight. He let him see what he thought safe – his running, Potter bumping into a Death Eater, his father emerging . . . Voldemort pushed further, muttering under his breath, and Severus cringed. He allowed him to see an ordinary day at Hogwarts – meals in the Great Hall, Potions classes, him terrorising Longbottom, library . . .

Both Dark Lord's hands were on his cheeks now, chilling him so much it burnt, and the Dark Lord pushed harder, making Severus wince. His eyes were so close Severus could see the tiny red veins in them, his irises in fact colourless, the background of them causing them to be red in a similar way that blue-eyed people have red eyes in muggle photos. Colourless eyes. 'What are you hiding, Severus?' echoed the inhuman voice through his mind. Quickly, Severus came up with images the Dark Lord would hopefully find reasonable enough for hiding . . . James and Sirius bullying him, Dumbledore not expelling Black, his father's fists . . . The Dark Lord stopped, not quite satisfied, but stopped. Exhausted, Severus let himself melt into his embrace, trembling slightly. Like a good actor, he willed his tears to come and when they did, he looked up into the eyes of his former master and spoke in an honest, shaky voice, 'Those memories . . . they are painful, master . . . I'm sorry, I always block them.'

'There's no need to block me, Severus. Is that all you're hiding?'

'Yes, my lord.'

'Then DO NOT block me!' he shouted angrily, 'Show me everything!'

The tip of Dark Lord's wand touched Severus's forehead.

'Where's your father? Where's that bloody traitor?'

Traitor? Severus stiffened at Dark Lord's words. He couldn't mean . . . no, he couldn't . . . It wasn't his father who was the traitor!

'Master, you don't suspect my father of betraying you . . .' whispered Severus, horrified at where Voldemort's thoughts might lead. The dark wizard straightened his back and with an evil smile watched Snape's puzzled face.

'There is a traitor in my ranks and Tarquinius ran away with Potter. Do I need any more persuasion and proof? Oh, my dear child,' his deadly cold hand reached for Severus's cheek again, something akin to pity appearing in the red eyes, 'my faithful one, you'll understand what I have to do.'

§§

Hugging his knees tightly to his chest, Harry was beginning to feel dizzy. Voldemort's emotions had been heightened; his disappearance must have made him furious. Whoever was in his presence now, would be the one experiencing his anger. Here it comes, thought Harry as his head began to spin, the room around him becoming darker and darker till it disappeared completely. His eyes closed and . . .

He was looking down at a kneeling man, at Severus Snape, his brilliant Potions Master, a man whose intelligence and wit made him more than a mere servant. 'Oh, my dear child, my faithful one, you'll understand what I have to do,' he whispered; now stroking the raven hair. 'You have sworn you life to me and I shall make use of that oath. I'm sorry, my child. You know the punishment for betrayal.'

Snape nodded slightly, his dark eyes wide and painful, but not surprised or fearful. However, when Harry muttered a curse, they closed tightly, and Snape gasped as a slashing movement of his wand caused a deep, bloody wound on his arm. 'TELL QUINN TO COME HOME AT ONCE OR I SHALL KILL HIS SON!' thundered a high-pitched voice in Harry's mind who had fallen from the bed screaming:

'He'll kill him! He'll kill him!'

§§

I hope it's not too confusing, everything will be made clear. A huge thanks to all my reviewers, you're my engine. My Serious Muse has disappeared again, so if someone sees her, kick her hard and send her back to me, I really need to finish my thesis.