Disclaimer: No rights to Rowling's works, just the privilege of writing about her characters. I used the HP Lexicon information about Snape, and the links to Snape Village in North Yorkshire as the basis for Severus' family home. The characterization of his parents is based on the memory Harry saw in OotP, Prof. Henry Jones' treatment of young Indy in The Last Crusade, and my imagination. A bit surprising, that this chap came to mind right after the holiday one, but I did state in my first chapter's disclaimer that the plot bunnies weren't always fluffy…
Don't Call Me Daddy
Chapter 8- Father, Father
In the darkness of the dungeon quarters, firelight revealed a shadowy figure slumped in a chair facing the flames. A black robed arm hung down, the elegant hand holding a crystal tumbler in a negligent grip. The glass began to slide toward the carpet. The mantel clock struck twelve. Immediately, long fingers tightened their clasp, bringing the firewhisky up to thin lips twisting in self mockery.
It is now the ninth of January. Happy Birthday to me…
Severus felt the irony of his situation keenly. Here he was, experiencing unparallel personal and professional fulfillment. He lived in a world free of Voldemort with a loving wife. The New Year barely begun would see his first child grace the world with his or her presence. He should be lying asleep in his bedchamber with an arm draped over his wife. Instead, he had lain awake in the dark while Lorelei drifted off to sleep. Eventually, he'd slipped on a robe to come drink alone before the fire. Snape tried to pretend that he was not consumed with dread, was not hoping to stay awake until exhaustion overcame him. He finished the whisky and seriously considered praying to whatever benevolence would listen for a sleep without dreams.
"Can't sleep?"
Welcoming the distraction from dark thoughts, Severus levered himself up and carefully placed his tumbler on a low table,
"Is it the babe?"
He slid his hands over her abdomen. Lorelei smiled,
"No, I must've pointed my foot in my sleep. A leg cramp woke me. When I rolled over, you were gone, so I decided to come get you."
His hands slid upwards,
"What did you have in mind?"
"A massage"
A short laugh escaped. Perhaps he had drunk more than was wise. His wife didn't seem to mind, smiling,
"The pregnancy book recommends massage to alleviate stress hormones that build up and to improve circulation which relieves cramps, headaches, and back pain." Pulling him into the bedroom, she praised, "You make me feel so good. I'm a lucky woman to have those magical fingers all to myself."
How Slytherin his wife could be. It was a most attractive quality. Severus noticed that candles had been lit, the linens were already pulled back, and a full-length body pillow for support was already on the bed. A dark eyebrow rose. She stretched out on her side, giggling at the sardonic gesture and the smirk that accompanied it. This preparation was pure Gryffindor boldness. He refused to encourage it with verbal praise, but found it quite inspiring nonetheless. The manual he had perused on prenatal massage and his own innate skills enabled the Potions Master to ease soreness and tension. He enjoyed the feel of Lorelei's voluptuous curves. The state of utter relaxation that he brought her to caused the mellowed professor to smile indulgently before using his hands to create a different, sweeter ache and tension.
He bent and pushed aside raven curls to gently rake his teeth across her neck. She gave a heartfelt sigh and sat up to kiss him deeply. His lips pursed in displeasure when she broke the kiss. Smiling, Lorelei pushed him down and said,
"I think my Birthday Boy needs a massage too."
Being called a 'Birthday Boy' for the first time at his age struck Severus as decidedly humorous. He began to shake with silent laughter. A small smile remained while she tossed the body pillow and pulled the tie to his robe. When Lorelei's hands slid up his chest, he said amusedly,
"Happy Birthday to me…"
Later, the combination of alcohol and complete satisfaction caused Snape to fall headlong into sleep. At first, his slumber was dreamless. Hours later, however, rapid eye movements signaled his body's transition into a new stage of sleep where the past became the present within a vivid dream.
A small dark haired boy dragged his feet when he drew closer to his father's study. Adolphus Sebastian Snape was stern on his best day, and on his worst… Thin shoulders shrugged. Severus had learned not to anticipate a blow- it just extended the pain. The child's dark gaze fell on some artist's rendition of the family castle. Thin lips curled. One of his ignoble ancestors had felt 'Snape Hall' didn't have enough cachet, so he'd turned the pleasant, quadrangular stone manor house in North Yorkshire into an Elizabethan sham castle. The four towers and crenellated battlements were the simultaneous pride and joke of nearby Snape Village. Giving the painting one last, contemptuous glance, Severus moved forward to knock on the study door.
"Enter"
Father was sitting at his desk, compiling a record of the latest findings from his excavation of the nearby ruins of a Roman villa. Long, black hair fell forward, obscuring every ascetic feature save that of a hook-nose. Sebastian's concentration was total. Antiquity was all the man cared for. He'd transformed the Elizabethan banquet room at the top of the remotest tower into a private museum and office. The only time his son had tried to touch one of the statues on display; he'd received a beating to ensure the offense would never be repeated. Cold black eyes lifted momentarily to flicker disinterestedly over the boy's face before returning to his work. Using his peripheral vision, Severus watched the clock on the mantel tick off the minutes. Five minutes passed. Ten… Finally, the boy blurted,
"Father, you will be receiving a note claiming otherwise from the vicar, but I assure you that I was minding my own business, when…"
"Quiet"
Resentfully waiting for several more minutes, the younger Snape took a deep breath and tried again,
"Sir, if you would be so good as to give me a few moments of your time…"
Pursing his lips in displeasure, the older wizard pinched the bridge of his nose and said,
"Your lack of patience is a sore trial and disappointment. Count to ten and then try to speak in a rational, intelligible manner."
Exhaling audibly, Severus began,
"One, two, three…"
"In Latin"
Through clenched teeth, the son gritted,
"Unus, duo, tres, quattuor, quinque, sex, septem, octo, novem, decem... Now, as I was saying…"
"Your tone leaves much to be desired. Count again. In Greek…"
The boy was tempted to mutter Inflammo and set his father's papers on fire. He didn't have a wand yet, but Severus had found through a combination of accident and experimentation that magic could be done without it. In the right circumstances, when he used his will to focus, he could make things happen. Imagining the stoic man scrambling frantically to save his precious work caused the small, set face to soften. The corners of his mouth turned upwards while he drawled,
"Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta, Epsilon, Digamma, Zeta, Eta, Theta, Iota...I wished to inform you of an unfortunate event in the village." When his father waved his fingers for the boy to continue, he explained, "I was examining a section of Hadrian's wall…"
"Was there damage?"
The concern in the elder Snape's voice as he leaned forward brought a slight, bitter smile to his son's thin face,
"No Sir, just an interesting patch of mosses that…" the bright note in the child's voice died at the lack of interest plainly shown. Reverting back to the unemotional recitation his father preferred, Severus continued, "…anyway, several children noticed my inspection and…began a dialogue with me."
"A dialogue…? What was the subject, pray tell?"
The fingers drumming on the desk top betrayed the man's rising agitation, although his voice was indifferent as ever. Unable to meet the onyx eyes he had inherited along with other physical characteristics he despised, the boy stated,
"They told me to leave the wall alone. I said that since my ancestor, Emperor Lucius Septimius Severus had reconstructed it; I would do as I pleased. They became hostile and attempted to use physical force after expletives and vulgarity would not dissuade me. I merely defended myself. The vicar rushed over after hearing the screams and told me he would be writing to inform you of my reprehensible behavior."
His father was out of his chair and rounding the desk before he finished. Clasping the small upper arm in an implacable grip, the man tightened his fingers until the child winced, hissing,
"What did you do, dunderhead?"
"I used Deicio to throw down beehives that were nearby and an aversion charm to keep the bees from stinging me."
A backhand blow split Severus' lip. Blood trickled down his chin while his father shook him violently, sneering,
"Always sneaking into the village, attempting to make friends with inferior Muggle children… When will you learn, boy? Shall I help you learn?"
"Sebastian, let him go!"
The force of his father's shove propelled Severus across the room. He collapsed into a corner, crying in shame and anger.
"I suppose Kreskin came running to tell you that his precious young master needed his mumsie? Stop cowering and look at me when I speak to you, woman."
The boy could hear the fear in his mother's voice,
"No…no…I…I merely asked if Severus had returned from his walk and…"
"Silence! Your son may act the sniveling coward as much as you do, Druscilla, but at least he is not a liar!"
"I'm not lying, Sebastian, please, don't punish me for natural concern, please!"
For a moment, Severus thought that his father would relent, but he didn't,
"Dolore!"
Once, long ago, his mother had explained that 'to be in pain' wasn't the worst curse her husband could have chosen to discipline her with. Although in agony while it lasted, there were no lasting repercussions. Listening to his mother sob and beg for mercy, Severus knew that several effects were permanent. His mother lived in fear of displeasing her spouse, and her son alternately loved and despised her while hating his father and vowing never to be like him in any way. After the curse was lifted, Sebastian returned to his desk and picked up a quill, ordering tonelessly,
"Get up, Snivellus, and escort your mother to her room. Tell Kreskin to deliver my meals for the rest of the day. I must make up the valuable time I have lost."
Severus' glare was malevolent, but his father was too engrossed in his work to notice. The boy placed an arm around his trembling mother's waist. She leaned against him as they left the tower room. Mother and son remained silent on the slow walk to her quarters. At her door, she turned and patted his cheek, her slight smile bringing a trace of former beauty to her pallid features,
"I believe I'll have lunch in my room also, Severus. You run along and play."
Staring at the dark wood of his mother's door, the boy wondered sullenly who the blazes he was supposed to play with. Out of habit, he began to aimlessly roam the castle. Today, he decided to explore the dungeons. One held ancient implements of torture. They were grisly, interesting, and tempting. Another contained work tables covered in dusty laboratory equipment. Lifting a tome from one of the tables, Severus opened the medieval text on potions to read the inscription,
This book belongs to Druscilla White, first in Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ms. White's brilliant mind and Slytherin ambition will one day make her the youngest Potions Master in Britain. If not, the reader may tear this page out with her permission.
He carefully removed the page and slipped it into his pocket before flipping through the pages. Intrigued, Severus moved beneath the enchanted torch set in the stone wall, sat down and began to read.
Snape's eyes snapped open, almost expecting to see the old dungeon. Instead, he saw his wife, looking down at him. Lorelei's hand had been gently shaking his shoulder, her eyes filled with concern. Sunlight filtered in from the enchanted window. She said,
"I know from experience that when nights get restless and eyes grow shadowed, there's something you don't want to face." Her eyes grew misty, "You helped me face my past. Allow me help you now."
Going against instinctive self-sufficiency, he slowly nodded, and then closed his eyes against the painful light. His wife gasped,
"Oh, poor love, I'll be back in a trice!"
She quickly changed the window back to the wall of their hidden wardrobe. Scooting off the bed, Lorelei left the room, undoubtedly to procure Nauseous No More and Morning After from the stasis chamber hidden behind a bookcase in the lounge. After the potions were ingested, Severus pushed his hair back and said,
"After a shower, I will request a Portkey from Dumbledore while you order breakfast." Meeting her gaze, the corner of his mouth quirked, "Dress warmly."
An hour later, the couple made their way to the gates of Hogwarts. Once outside the boundaries of the school, Snape reached inside his black greatcoat and pulled out the Portkey. As the Headmaster had predicted, the sight of it made his wife laugh,
"A silver baby rattle, how sweet of Albus!"
He held the handle, while she placed her hand on the rattle. Together, they waited for the spell to employ at the precise time. When it engaged, he wondered if the unsettling feeling of being yanked forward by the navel was compounded when one was pregnant. The experience of traveling through a whirling wind filled with a cacophony of sound and kaleidoscope of color ended abruptly when they reached the destination.
Lorelei's eyes widened while she stared at the ridiculously Gothic exterior of Snape Castle. Her gaze traveled the broken skyline created by dramatic towers and battlements. She sighed,
"It's so romantic." Bundled up in one of his capes with a Slytherin green scarf and mittens, she turned and said, "This is your family home?"
Holding her arm as they approached, he corrected,
"Ancestral abode, perhaps, but home? No. The only true home I have ever known is the one we created together."
Guiding her to the back of the monument to vanity, Snape unwarded the kitchen door and entered. As expected, the chamber was clean, with a fire burning in the fireplace on the back wall. Kreskin appeared. The tips of the house elf's ears glowed pink in pleasure,
"Master Snape is come once more and is bringing his Lady to meet Kreskin!" Bowing repeatedly in his tea towel, the elf's green eyes glowed when they saw the spoon the wizard held out to him, "A new spoon for Kreskin's collection!"
Lorelei was having trouble removing his cloak. Brushing her hands aside, he briskly removed her outer garments, draping her scarf and mittens neatly on a table near the fire to dry. Handing his coat and hers to the house-elf, he said,
"We will require a meal in a few hours…not a full banquet this time, if you please. Until then, I will be escorting my wife around the castle."
The tour seemed to please the woman currently craning her neck to view the frescoed ceiling of the ballroom. Room after room, floor after floor was shown, and historical facts shared. The mother and wife of Richard III, and Catherine Parr, one of the wives of Henry VIII, had spent time at the castle. Bypassing his old bedchamber, Snape led the way to his father's private tower retreat. His taut features must have given his inner turmoil away, because Lorelei said, in an obvious bid at distraction,
"At first, I was rather…surprised…that the interior doesn't match the Gothic exterior, but I must admit that the classical style is lovely."
Passing the painting of the castle, he replied dryly,
"You mean disappointed."
"No…well…just for a few moments…I can't help my fixation, married to a Gothic god as I am."
Opening the door to the office, he said quietly,
"I have been having dreams of this room, and all the unpleasantness my mother and I experienced within these walls."
They walked in. Lorelei immediately went to the small statue of Persephone and ran her fingers over the exquisitely carved marble. He related,
"My father…punished…me for daring to touch that when I was a boy."
His wife lifted the statue and placed it in his hands,
"You mean abused, and he can't hurt you or anyone else anymore."
Looking at the corner he'd once cried in, Severus confessed,
"I resemble my father in more than physical appearance. I have a similar temperament. What if I treat my child in a similar manner?"
Slender arms encircled him, a soft body pressed to his back. Between them, he could feel her abdomen, and a gentle nudge of a tiny elbow, or knee.
"Do you treat me the way your father treated your mother? Of course not! You're a different man- a better man." He turned to gaze down into her eyes. She smiled, "A loving man, who will always be loved in return."
Severus smiled briefly, bringing her hand to his lips to press a kiss of thanks. His gaze traveled to Sebastian's desk. The scrolls and parchments were still piled upon it just the way the man left them years ago. He mused,
"I always wanted to set those damned papers on fire."
Lorelei waved her wand and sent the pieces of parchment floating toward the fireplace. She nodded to the waiting stack,
"Let them burn."
The wizard needed no wand. He stared intently at the papers and murmured,
"Inflammo"
Leaving both the ashes and the memories behind, Severus took the statue with him as he guided Lorelei to his old room. She looked curiously around the dark bedchamber and then sat on the edge of the double bed,
"I hope you weren't forced to spend a lot of time here."
He placed the statue on the mantel and sat beside her, sharing,
"Unfortunately, I was. During my teenaged years, flies from the nearby marsh provided hours of entertainment over summer holidays- I used my wand to shoot them down from the ceiling."
"Unique hobby…did you have others?"
Snape shifted to lie on the bed and pull his wife down to lie beside him. Cupping her cheek, he smiled ironically,
"I used to lie on this bed and dream that Persephone had come to Hades in the Underworld." At her look of surprise, he smirked, "No doubt a result of all those texts I was required to read in the original Greek." Her eyes flickered to the statue whose classical draperies left one shoulder and part of the marble torso bare.
"Exactly what part of the statue were you touching when you got in trouble?"
He reached out and caressed,
"This one"
Her smile became sultry,
"Persephone has come to Hades in the Underworld. What welcome will you give me?"
Severus used his lips and body to give his welcome and his love. Lying beside her sometime later, a vision formed behind heavy eyelids.
He was working in his private dungeon laboratory, engrossed in a complicated potion.
"Father?"
The wizard looked up to see his child standing before him, looking upset and apprehensive. His stern features softened. He was off the stool and rounding the table in a moment. Kneeling down to look into troubled eyes, his lips curved,
"Speak, I'm listening."
A/N: I felt that Snape needed to deal with the 'series of unfortunate events' that comprised his childhood before becoming a father himself. Although refraining from having Daddy Dearest say 'the vile village' or calling Kreskin 'amazing', (I gave into the urge to homage, 'Ho Ho Ho, What a Savings' last chap, which Severusgirl cleverly caught) I behaved, somewhat, this one…I couldn't resist using the phrase 'unfortunate event', or having Kreskin collect spoons.
The wife and mother of Richard III really did stay at Snape Castle, and Catherine Parr lived there as the wife of Sir John Neville, the 3rd Lord Latimer. If you look on the HP Lexicon website, the Snape info page has a link where you can see the castle for yourself and picture Snape, black robes billowing, staring broodingly out a tower window or stalking the battlements. By Grabthar's Hammer, what an image! hehheh, like Tonks, I lack the ability to behave myself. Adieu, and remember to review!