(A/N: To tell you all the truth… after reading the Half-Blood Prince, Rowling's best book to date, I was left with the empty feeling of all that I had surmised about my favorite character being torn away. In desperation, I hunted for his layers again. I found myself buried beneath them. However, in my search, I was struck entirely with a revelation. This ship I am about to sail has no founding, no logical, book-based passages leading toward it… and yet, I am drawn to it. You may think me an idiot, but I quite like the idea, and maybe I can convince you. Perhaps it is only my desperation for good slash, as my favorite pairing has been forcibly ripped from me. I don't know. This is also most likely not good slash. Too damn bad, you've read this far, right?)
Vows (Of Many Kinds)
Tenebrus
The wind howled and shook the windows outside, just as it ought to on a day like this. He had heard the weather was sunny and warm in Scotland – just as the old fool would have preferred – but here, wherever here was, was cold and blustery. How did the weather change to match his mood? Or was it the other way around? How cliché. How done.
How utterly miserable.
He watched petulantly as a tiny white stomach rose and fell in the next bed over. How was it that the boy could ever sleep? There was some crust around his eyes from the crying. It hadn't occurred to Snape (no longer Professor) to shut Malfoy's eyes forcibly before doing the deed… maybe even paralyzing him so that there was some plausible explanation as to why Draco could not complete the task assigned to him. No. It was Malfoy's mistake, and his alone, and he had to face the consequences. Much to Narcissa's delight, her boy was still alive, but for how much longer was anyone's guess.
He knew what happened to those who defied the Dark Lord's orders. He fingered the brand on his left arm gingerly as he lay back in bed with an audible "thump," feeling almost as though ten thousand fiery snakes were wrapping around his arm. Unsolicited words appeared in his head, words that had no precise meaning nor feeling, and they floated around – irritating him with every resonation.
Why? There is no one.
It made no sense. His brains were addled. Surely the stress of what they had just encountered had made his sanity grow rotten. He was dizzy. He had turned so many sides in the past few years that he might as well have spun himself into the grown like a screw. It was good, he thought, that he had finally settled on one. He watched his young charge sleep. For all their haughtiness, the purebloods had very little to offer for, as had been displayed, the three greatest wizards alive at the moment were all half-bloods. This thought disquieted him and he forced himself resolutely to shut his eyes, the word "why" still bouncing determinedly around in his skull.
It was hours before he finally slept, at three o-clock in the afternoon. Like clockwork.
Wake up.
"Wake up," said Lucius. Murky fog pressed itself in on Severus as he opened what seemed to be his eyes. "The train's almost arrived. Put on your robes."
As soon as he slipped on his robes, it seemed, he was in the great hall – past the Thestrals, past everything, and the sorting hat had (blissfully) forgone his singing in favor of starting the sorting. And then, he locked eyes with the most pitiful creature he had seen in all his years.
The boy had large, watery blue eyes as he approached the hat. Snape registered the name that had been called, "Black," and realized what grave danger the boy was truly in. Either he was in Slytherin, and then faced the wrath of his older brother and his "friends," or he was in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff, bringing down once more the mighty pureblood house. Cissy leaned over to Lucius. "That's my other cousin, Regulus." Bellatrix, a prefect this year, stared intensely at the small boy. He met her eyes and swallowed hard. Snape took a sort of grudging pity on him, for he did not emit the haughtiness that was customary to Sirius, and Severus supposed Regulus had had all self-respect beaten out of him at an early age.
The hat slid over Regulus' eyes, and almost immediately, with a sigh of relief from the boy, it shouted a resounding "Slytherin!" and young Black took his place at the table. Cissy and Bella smiled snidely. "Thank goodness you weren't too contaminated by your brother," said the elder. Regulus slid into his seat, looking at Severus.
"He talks about you, you know," said Regulus, eyes congealing into coldness.
Severus liked him instantly.
Words were still stuck in his head.
Why?
I've no idea, he told himself.
He roused Draco, he who looked so much like his father, and the Malfoy heir groaned a little but said no more. They slipped on their boots and traveling cloaks and entered into the cover of darkness. It would be a long time before they could return to Spinner's End. Now, neither of them had a mission of any sort; Snape could no longer work as a double agent, and Malfoy had received no further orders. Severus had the suspicion that there would be no further orders for the young one, and he sighed. Draco paid him no mind.
The option was not there, either, to return immediately to their Lord. That would be the first thing the Order would be expecting of them, and if they were being tailed, he did not wish to lead his enemies to his master. The only thing they could do, then, was move from place to place, after sunset, in case they had been spotted. The rest of the Death Eaters who had been at the battle were doing the same, in pairs, and Severus felt the worst off of them all. Here he was, most likely the most wanted Death Eater in Britain, accompanied only by a sniveling sixteen-year-old coward.
Coward.
There is no such thing, he said to himself resolutely.
Then what am I?
There was no conceivable answer.
Wake up.
"Wake up," said Lucius.
And at that moment, Regulus Black passed the compartment with his hands up over his head. A roar of laughter followed the fourteen-year-old, and a few shrill admonitions from Lily, a new Prefect. Severus could feel himself rise despite his will, and he turned the handle of the compartment door and looked out from where Regulus had come. He was not the only one, he knew, as he saw Cissy's sharp blonde hair and pointed face jut out from another compartment. She began to rant tirelessly at the four boys who now looked a little less happy to be where they were. Lily ushered them back out of sight of the now many Slytherin eyes. Severus swept out of the compartment entirely, following the trail of smoke that Regulus had left.
He found the other boy, steely-faced, in an empty compartment. The youngest Black seemed rather intent on putting out the big purple flame in his robes, but seemed to be having some trouble. Severus extinguished it with a flick of his wand and a soft murmur, and Regulus turned, looking up at him with once more liquid-blue eyes. He did not cry. His short, dark hair was slicked back, a tiny cowlick drifting up over his forehead. "Severus, I didn't mean for you to see…"
"You've seen what they've done to me."
"Yes."
"And should I be ashamed?"
"Perhaps. If I ought to be."
Severus smirked. "You've got some gall, Black."
"I know. I have to, in order to get around from under him." Regulus made a face full of deepest loathing. "He isn't even a Black. Should never have had my name, nor my mother's name nor my father's. There isn't an ounce of Black in him."
Severus was not sure. Although their intense and deepest loathing of each other, it would seem, there was quite a lot in common between them. The brothers both had the uncanny knack for being cruel.
"Do you feel lonely?" he asked Regulus, who stared at him.
"What are you implying? A Slytherin looks out for himself, and only himself."
With that in mind, Severus stepped forward, grabbed Regulus roughly by the shoulders, and kissed him. Regulus let out a muffled scream and repelled him sharply with a curse that had only been thought.
"A little young to know how to do that, aren't you, Black?"
Regulus wiped his mouth in disgust. "You're repulsive! Not only are you a boy, but you're a half-blood. You're muddy as anything else, and I won't stand to be manhandled in such a way by you."
Severus strode across the room, yanked the boy up by his shirt collar, and kissed him again. In the deafening silence that followed, Snape snaked his head around to Regulus' ear, and whispered into it. "I am a Prince, Black, which is more than you could ever hope for." He dropped the boy, and stepped back against the wall of the compartment. "And right now," he said loudly, "I'm all you've got."
"I have my cousins."
"One of whom is gone, currently, from Hogwarts – and as far as we know, the country – and the other of whom is obsessed over my best friend too much to notice your very existence."
"She'll protect me," he said. "She has to protect her family line."
"Let me protect you. I'll do it because I want to."
"You really mean that?" Regulus asked, skeptically.
"When have you ever known me to do something against my wishes?" And in that moment, Regulus' arms were around him, and they were doing battle or making love, two snakes twisted around each other, bound in fire.
There is more to it than that.
That was his first thought as he emerged from sleep, his eyes still not quite open, feeling Regulus Black on his tongue and fingertips.
There is more I am forgetting, he told himself.
There is more that you are trying so very hard to forget.
I am rotten to the very core, said Snape sardonically.
No, he said. You are something quite different.
Regulus had nothing to do with it at all.
There is more to him and you, however, that should not be overlooked.
He wondered when his inner voice had been replaced with Dumbledore's. That silly fool, he thought. That silly old fool. What was there ever within me to trust?
Regulus laying back against his pillow, a drunken smile on his face, eyes closed.
Eyes closed.
Why?
"I… I…" he choked, and Draco did not hear him, which was fortunate.
Wake up.
"Wake up." This time, it was not Lucius, but a smoother, velveteen voice and a smallish hand on his shoulder. The hand was nervous, trembling, and as soon as Severus had stirred, Regulus removed it as though he had been burned. Black looked down at him, fully clothed.
The two young men flew out the dungeons, dodging the watchful glances of Argus Filch and disappearing out the doors of the castle. They made their way to the edge of the grounds, where the lake lay. The moon glinted on the waters, reflecting on the pale boys, making Regulus ghostly and wanton and completely irresistible, and Severus could not resist wanting to touch him in ways never before imagined.
"I can't take this. I want to run away, Severus. Come with me."
Severus did not meet his eyes.
"He wants us, he wants both of us. We can go. We can go now, if we wanted."
"You're not seventeen."
"I will be." He sighed. "We need to run away from this, Severus. We need to get away. I can't take him, or this castle, or anything inside it for much longer."
Snape took the opportunity to bend his head low and demand entrance into the other boy's mouth. Regulus opened it, half reluctantly and half elatedly, and thirty minutes later, he cried shamelessly when he came.
He cried again when the dark mark was branded upon him, two months after his graduation, with Severus, already initiated, watching the tears roll down his face.
Severus had called him a coward. Severus had taken every order given to him, afraid, afraid to die.
The journey was abhorrently long, he realized. So much so that it was making him think.
Why?
Stop asking.
Wake up.
Regulus awoke beside him in a cold sweat, clutching his left arm. Severus merely winced, and staggered out of bed.
"Not tonight," said Regulus through gritted teeth. "Tonight is our wedding night."
"He'll kill us if we don't go."
With a sigh, the youngest Black heaved himself out of bed. Severus saw how the moonlight played on his pale, bare skin, making him blue, turning his dark hair a pitch black. He looked like some Hindu God, and Severus would have taken him back to bed right then and there if he were not so afraid.
No. Not afraid. Never afraid. Merely Slytherin.
"We have to look out for our own well-beings," he said, explaining both to his husband and to himself.
"Why are we following him? There is nothing in this. It isn't about pure blood, and it isn't about anything. You're half a Mudblood, and that's no fucking good, as far as the rest of them are concerned. But He let you in, and that must mean something! It isn't about blood at all. It's about control."
"Take that back."
"It's all lies, Severus!"
"If you say that one more time, I swear I will walk out this door and never come back. I'll tell Him everything you said."
Regulus said nothing, but clutched his scar, tears welling in his beautiful eyes. Severus looked at him, contempt laced in his features and his voice. "Stop sniveling and get your robes on." He threw on his clothing and sped out the door, apparating away.
That must have been the night he decided. The cogs were turning in his head.
Why?
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
Wake up.
"Wake up." Regulus stared down at him, his eyes cold.
"Reg…?"
"Goodbye, Severus. I'm going to put an end to this, now. I hope it will come to something, anyway."
"Where are you going?"
"I have to help the Order."
"What?"
"He has to be stopped."
"Don't get noble on me and come back to bed."
"Tell me you won't say anything, Severus."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I know you. He's going to ask, and you're going to sing. Sing, canary. I picked that up from Muggle history, how do you like it?"
"I hate it."
"Tell him this, Severus. Tell him I'm going to destroy it, and there's nothing he can do. Not a thing. I found the cave, and I know his game, and I'm going to help bring it down. No man should ever be immortal."
"Regulus…"
"TELL HIM!" the boy… man… he screamed. He screamed. "Tell Him, and I'll feel it in the darkest place in my soul when you do. You're going to tell Him, and you're going to live for years."
"What other choice do I have?"
"Come with me. Leave all this."
"Goodnight, Regulus."
Regulus Artemis Black swept out of the room, a look of disdain etched across his fine features.
I love you…
Oh, God, no.
And then, when he told the Dark Lord, he felt his entire soul crush and break and shatter. Because that… that is what he was.
Dumbledore, you old fool. You have claimed just as many lives as my Lord ever will.
You know that's a lie.
The side of righteousness, the side of good… it all comes to nothing.
Coward.
THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS COWARDACE!
A few breaths. Draco looked at him with wide, crystal eyes. He crouched down beside the bed, holding his head in his hands, rocking back and forth wildly.
There is only survival and death. And I have chosen to survive!
Why?
"Don't ask that. Anymore."