Disclaimer: I really doubt J.K.R. would have two of the adults of the same gender making out. Although, that would be so cool.
Warning: Slash ahead. If you've gotten this far in the story, and haven't picked up on that, um… Yeah.
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Chapter 6: You Ask Me What Went Wrong
Severus sat, his hands folded tightly on his lap. His gaze seemed off, as if staring at a single point, but not quite seeing it. He barely started when a hand passed in front of his eyes.
"Hey, we're almost there. Snap out of it, Sev." Lucius placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, his small smile turning into a worried frown. "What's wrong?"
"I just feel like I should be going home for the holidays… I… I don't want to leave my mom alone with my dad when I don't really have to." Severus blushed slightly. "When I'm not there to take his…frustrations…out on, he turns on her. I don't want her to get hurt because of me."
"Don't be foolish, Snape…" Lucius sighed deeply. They had had that conversation far too many times over the years. "Putting yourself in the way of his fists isn't helping anything. Besides, my mother already spoke with Sahriya. She's agreed to come stay for a few days during break… Even managed to talk your sister into visiting."
"How the hell did you manage to drag Seraphine Rasputin out of the house and agree to a visit with her 'lowly little family'? She's been utterly useless since she got married to that Mikhail man."
"Not a clue. I think both our mums ganged up on her." Lucius laughed. "I think part of the deal was that your father not come. Didn't tell him that, though. I think your mom convinced him to go out hunting with friends for the period of time that she'd be at the Manor, or something like that."
"I swear my mum should've been in Slytherin, not Ravenclaw. She can make up stories around both of us and back again." Severus let a small smile grace his features. It didn't stay long. "And yet she married that bastard."
The two boys sat in silence, the lone passengers in their compartment. Lucius took a sip of his pumpkin juice before speaking, attempting to change the subject. "Sev…" He got up and stood in front of Severus. He leaned down slowly, kissing the younger boy's lips lightly. "Let's just try to have fun, alright?"
Severus simply nodded, words not wanting to escape his mouth.
"I'll be right back. I need to go ask Rosier about something. He might join us on one of our days down Knockturn Alley, that is, if you don't mind." Lucius said, a slight flush on his pale face. "He wants to ask along a friend of his family's. Narcissa something, I think… She attends Beauxbatons. Needs to know ahead of time before he can start his little 'mating ritual.'"
"Fine by me." Severus couldn't hold back a grin at the look that came over his best friends' face. His smile turned into a tender one, affection shining in his onyx eyes. He winked at Lucius. "He gets her, maybe he'll stop chasing after you."
Lucius chuckled as he slipped out the door.
*Time jump*
Severus sat at the desk in one of the many Malfoy guest rooms three days later, attempting to write a letter. He wrote down several sentences, before getting annoyed with the letter and tossing it behind his shoulder to the white carpeted floor.
He was waiting for his mother and sister to arrive to the massive home, his nerves on edge. What if his father had found out about his mother's plan? If he knew that Sahriya Snape had sent him on a vacation, just to see him? His father would be furious. He would not stand any misbehavior in his family, be it from his wife, his grown daughter, or his fifteen-year-old son. Silas Snape was not one to cross. They all knew that.
So when Lucius came to his door, his eyes downcast, Severus knew that something had gone wrong.
"Luc? What is it? What…what happened?" Severus stammered, standing up so quickly he knocked his chair backwards.
"Silas knew. He knew that Sahriya was…sneaking out. One of his friends told him that his present…his vacation…was just so that your mother could come here. He-he wasn't very happy."
"Fuck, no… Please… Tell me he didn't…" Severus mumbled, pacing across the room, his speed gaining with every step.
Tears slid silently down Lucius's face. "I'm sorry."
"No… She's… No. I refuse to believe… How? How'd the bastard do it? A curse?"
Lucius shook his head, walking over to Severus, stopping his pace. He gathered Severus into his arms, stroking his hair. "He beat her…
"Your sister was there as well."
"Not Seraphine." Severus pulled away from Lucius, violently falling to his knees. "No. No, no, no, no, no. They're not dead. This is a trick."
"I'm sorry, but it's not, Sev." Lucius sighed deeply, trying to control his own tears. "Your father found them both in the study. He cast a body bind on your sister. Made her watch. Beat your mum to the brink of death, then cast the body bind on her. Made her watch Silas beat Seraphine to death.
"She died just as the emergency healers came."
Severus shook his head, curling up into a ball on the floor. He whispered to himself, rocking back and forth.
"I'm so sorry, Severus." Lucius got to his knees in front of Severus, taking the younger Slytherin into his arms, cradling him. "I'm so sorry."
-
It felt odd at first, lying in Severus's bed. His arms snaked around me as he slept; his head was tucked into the curve of my neck. I feel almost like his lifejacket, like if I let go of him, he'd drift off into some abyss.
He mumbles in his sleep, quiet whispers that are directed to whoever's haunting his dreams. They're not pleasant dreams. I've had to wake him up twice since I put him to bed.
The first time, he started thrashing about, whimpering softly, sweat beading on his brow. I shook him, gently at first, but harder when he wouldn't wake up. It took me at least five minutes to rouse him from whatever he was dreaming about. Even when he woke up, he didn't seem to be awake. His eyes were glazed, unfocused. He looked right past me, through me.
Severus fell back to sleep within moments.
The second time, he's actually woken me up from whatever light doze I was in. I wake up, my arms still around him. He's gasping violently for air, as if some invisible force had their hands around his neck, crushing it. I don't shake him this time, though. I just hold him tighter in my arms, reassuring him that I'm here, whispering as comforting of words to him as I could. I don't know if I've ever been as afraid for him as I am now.
He wakes up, looking at me, his eyes showing anger and fear. He relaxes a bit when he sees who he's wrapped up in.
"Remus?"
"Yeah, Sev, it's me…" I whisper, kissing the top of his head. "Are you alright?"
"I-I must have taken the wrong potion earlier…" Severus Snape, make a mistake? That can't be right. I quirk my eyebrow, asking him as such. He just gives me a slightly annoyed look. "Could you reach into the drawer, in the bedside table? There should be a small bottle, with a red liquid inside."
I do so, taking the tiny bottle in my hand. It's half empty already, it's black wax seal seeming to be recently broken. I hand it to him, never taking my arm from around him. "Here you go… What is this stuff, Sev?"
"A type of sleeping draft. It's called the Dormir de la Vie de Rouge." He explains. His eyes light up slightly as he explains the potion to me. I don't know how those rumors about his wanting the Defense Against the Dark Arts job keep spreading… All they'd have to do is look at him while he explains some random, hopelessly complex potion. His love for potion's shines through in ways that I'm sure he doesn't even realize. I hold back a chuckle. Doesn't really help his reputation to have him fawning over boiling liquids. Well, unless they were melted tar and there were people in chains. The sad thing is, I actually heard that rumor. Of course it came from Siri, but still…
"Dormir…de…? What?" I find myself blushing. I hate admitting that I'm horrible with potions, and even more so when it comes to languages that aren't English. I can speak a bit of Gaelic, but that's it.
"Dormir de la Vie de Rouge. 'The Sleep of Red Life.' It's kind of like a potion for the blood… It's carried through your blood to whatever part of your body needs to be healed." All sleep seems to be shed from his voice, his normally deadpan, silky, voice taking on an almost excited tone. I don't think that he has many people to discuss potions with… I'll gladly be the one that he shares this with. And if all else fails, and nothing happens between us, maybe I'll be able to actually make a potion to save my life. "It also puts you to sleep, with no dreams. Just wonderful for Death Eaters who decide to develop a conscience. Unfortunately, it's highly addictive.
"Believe me." He says, almost sadly. He pulls off the top of the bottle, pouring the rest of the potion into his mouth. "I'm the one who created it, the first person to test it, and the first person to fall."
I don't know what to say at first. The first thing that popped into my head to say was 'wow', but that just doesn't seem appropriate. "Did you create it for… For Voldemort?"
"No. I created it to rid myself of dreams. The healing aspect just happened to be a pleasant side effect." He says, his voice full of sleep. I gently take the bottle from his hand, placing it back into the table drawer.
He curls back up into me, unconsciously placing an arm around my waste. "Thank you."
"For what?" I ask, truly bewildered.
"For being here." He says, the sentence trailing off as the potion takes effect, and he falls into a deep sleep.
"You're welcome, Sev." I kiss the top of his head and tighten my grip around him.
I watch him sleep for a while, running my hand alternately through his hair and along his side. His thin undershirt doesn't hide much as I run my hand over his torso.
There are countless bumps as I run my fingers across him. Various places where his shirt seems to catch, to tear at.
Scars.
I pull up the shirt, thankful that he's under a heavy sedative. I feel as if I'm invading his privacy in a worse way than simply seeking him out when he's angry or in one of his, heaven forbid, antisocial moods. My concern overwhelms my need to mind my own business.
I swear, probably too loudly, when I see them. Countless scars, some fresh and still healing, some a deep pink, nearly brown, color. Scars that are like someone ripped at his flesh with claws or nails. Scars that could've only been caused by a dagger. Burn scars, stab scars, slash scars. There seems to be every type of scar imaginable on Severus.
My stomach drops down near the floor as I run my hands along the flesh, over the scars. I can feel most of them hum with magic.
The scars are charmed to never fully heal. To always cause pain. To never fade.
I feel anger rise in my throat and vengeance take over my brain. I carefully pull myself from Severus's embrace, smiling down on him momentarily. I lean over and kiss him on the cheek before grabbing my shoes and robes.
It's time Dumbledore and I have a little talk.
TBC…
~Woo! Another near 2000 words. My muse is on a roll!~