Story: Darker Demons
Chapter: One, Turning Point
Authoress: Elvira Llewellyn
Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, J. K. R. Which means: I do not own any of the characters, places, or anything that you recognize from the Harry Potter books. This story was inspired by Imk05's story "Better Angels". It's a great story, and if you haven't read it, you should do so now.
Authoress' Note: I'm really excited about this one, the story has just taken on a life of it's own. Please REVIEW and tell me what you think of it as well as inform me of any mistakes I have made. I suppose this is an AU, though I've touched on several canon points. This chapter is particularly long...perhaps I should have broken it up but I just got going and this is how it turned out. I can't promise that future chapters will be as long.
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When his master had suggested that he find employment, he had panicked. The words had been spoken to other slaves in the past. Generally it meant that the master had decided that the meager costs of keeping the slave alive had exceeded the benefits of doing so. Later, when he lay huddled in a corner beneath threadbare covers, fretting over what this could mean, a smile slowly spread across his face. It could mean freedom. A certain amount of time away from the family he served, if he played his cards right it could mean expendable income, that was if her could trick his master into believing he earned less than he really did.
Unfortunately, this hope evaporated with each business that he visited that week. Soon he realized how foolish he had been. Obviously, he had been spending too much time with those bloody Gryffindors and their optimistic belief in the good of humanity had rubbed off on him. Snape knew better, he'd seen the dark side of humanity even if he wasn't technically included in that category. Each employer was impressed. Severus had been at the top of his class at Hogwarts, he would have been valedictorian if it hadn't been for his lesser status as a slave. Even Dumbledore couldn't withstand the complaints from parents that their precious children had been defeated by a lowly slave. Severus had published a book "Most Potente Potions" which had sold several copies and made him semi-famous among potion buffs. Of course then they reached the line that asked his legal status with the Ministry of Magic.
Their reaction was almost laughably predictable. No matter how the interview was going, the employer would inevitably reach that line, look up at him, and glance back at the single, damning line.
At the same time he had even lowered himself to considering a Muggle job. However, lacking a liscence or any other Muggle papers to prove his existence. He'd told the clearly incompetent employer that obviously he existed or else how would he be applying for the job. They hadn't been impressed and the Potters did not have the means like his last master did to get him a place in the Muggle world.
"You're a slave," they would utter, as if he wasn't painfully aware of the status he had been born into. It was enough to make him want to hex the dunderheads. Of course, that was a pleasure that he needed permission from his master to go through with so he would stand there, eyes glued to the floor, admittedly greasy hair falling in his face. The employer would then clear their throat and inform him that they would get back to him via floo. That would lead to the awkward explanation that his hovel didn't have a fireplace. Not once had an employer offered to owl him or given him an address where they could be reached.
Downtrodden, he explained to his master that none of the jobs would take him. Master, being the foolish Gryffindor that he was, had insisted that it was Severus' fault and that he wasn't trying hard enough. Though his master's friend had given him a sympathetic look, for he knew how hard it could be to get a job, both because of laws and prejudices, it didn't matter what the other man felt. What mattered was that his master had given him and order and now he was obligated to follow through. Which meant searching through the more undesirable jobs that the wizarding world had to offer. This was fine by Snape, he'd done far more degrading things in the past for no pay.
This had been a particularly degrading interview in which he had been deemed unworthy to magically incinerate the wizarding world's trash. A big-bellied wizard had glanced over his resume and laughed when he got to that line. With an ugly leer on his face he'd crooned, "Oh, I have a job for you alright."
To this Severus had blinked several times before standing up and walking out of his office without so much as a glance behind.
Now he found himself on a crowded street, on an entirely too bright day, surrounded by Muggles who were far to perky. A lanky boy with green hair jostled him on his way down the street. Just as he spun to tell off the insolent teenager (Merlin, he hated children) he nearly ran into a woman dressed in elaborate clothing that almost resembled a witch's dress robe. She was carrying a tray of brightly colored Muggle snacks. Seeing a potential client, she smiled brightly and said loudly, so those around her would hear her invitation. "Good day, sir! May I have a moment of your time?"
"No," he gave her a look he usually reserved only for Sirius Black. He moved to walk quickly down the road, The Leaky Cauldron already in sight. However, the woman was faster than her small body suggested and she blocked his path. Amazingly, the smile remained on her face, widening even. "Good sir, can I interest you in a lunch at The Victorian Tea House?"
"Victorian Tea House?" He inquired, the words popping out of his mouth before he could stop them. The moment they left his mouth he realized he had made a mistake. Grin almost ear to ear, the overeager employee took grip of his arm and lead him in front of a small store he hadn't noticed previously. It was a squat, brick building with dim lights that didn't allow him to see past the window which displayed a number of nicknacks including a particularly offensive teapot that had a ceramic kitten peaking out of it.
At least this explained the outfit the woman was wearing. During the Victorian era in Britain, pureblood families had ruled, their power stretching extensively among wizards and Muggles alike. Never before in history had the veil between the two worlds been so thin. Muggle culture had been influenced (unknowingly) by the mannerisms and dress of pureblood wizards. Many considered this the golden era of the wizarding world, back when laws forbade breeding with Muggles for fear of what it would do to the offsprings magical powers. This belief was still held by many pureblood wizards who blamed the birth of squibs on relations outside of the pureblood circle. To this day, the birth of a squib was still grounds for a man to divorce his wife.
The official law considering this went as follows:
Ministry Regulation #23142
Subsection B of International Marriage Laws
"In the case that an offspring be born from the union of a witch and a wizard that exhibits no magical abilities by the legal age of training (IE: eleven-SEE: wizarding schools) s/he is qualified as a non-magical being (SEE: squibs). In this case, the wizard may end his union with his wife, due to the trauma that creates complications in the family unit. He is entitled all of the family's wealth and property, As for the witch, she may contact The Department for Disposal of Magical Beings (SEE: werewolves, vampires, etc.) to rid herself of said non-magical being."
Although the law claimed that the child would cause an insurmountable hurdle in the marriage, one had to question why it was the husband who had the rights to end the marriage and not the wife. Snape had always assumed this was a throwback to the not far off years when it had been assumed that the wife must have had infidelities with a Muggles, because certainly no wizard would give life to a...squib. Of course the Ministry would never hold such biased views. Of course.
Snape had never bought into that old wives tales about what caused the birth of squibs. He's always assumed that it was just a matter of chance. Of course, he wouldn't deny being biased. His father was, after all, a Muggle. A man that Severus had never met, but had been told about frequently by his mother. Often he wondered if he had truly been the great man that his mother claimed or if his character had been exaggerated in order to make her son have a little pride. Hell, he wondered if his mother even could differentiate between her stories and reality. Eileen had been a strong woman, never completely broken by her run as a slave. Perhaps she simply refused to break in front of her son, or (much more likely) she was slightly insane and wasn't effected by her circumstances like most people would be. He still remembered his mother, when he'd been young, back when he was still under the Malfoy's control.
12 years previously:
It'd been a really bad day, Severus had been making a potion for his masters, trying to hide his glee at being left alone with the beautiful liquids simmering in their pots. Unlike people, who pretended to be kind, only to turn around and deliver the cruelest of punishments, potions were predictable. The methodic cutting of mandrake and carefully measuring the dragon horn which was "worth more than his life" calmed him and he would often dare to imagine that this was his personal lab and he was a potion's master. Of course, most children his age were dreaming of being dragon tamers or professional Quidditch players, but Severus wasn't given to such fantasies.
Frowning, the nine-year-old glanced over the ingredients on his work table and realized he was missing the essential murlap essence. Scuttling down the high stool, he looked up at the shelves which held many treasures that could occupy him for hours if he dared touch them. Just his luck that the liquid be located on the very top shelf. Severus turned to shout for help but the words died in his throat, he knew well the punishment for incompetence. Hesitantly, he put his foot on the bottom shelf and hoisted himself up. A small breath of relief escaped his mouth when the shelf held his weight. Carefully he climbed up the next few shelves until he was at the very top. Sighing, he leaned back to relax against the wall as he fingered the bottle holding the ingredient he needed.
Suddenly there were footsteps, sharp and quick. Severus stiffened and glanced down at the large wooden door which slowly opened to reveal Lucius Malfoy. Briefly he wondered if he could escape notice by remaining where he was. However, he quickly realized how much worse it would be if they thought he was hiding.
"Hello, Master Lucius," he said softly.
Surprised, Lucius' head snapped around and he spotted Severus up on the shelves. His long, blonde hair was pulled back with a silk ribbon and he was dressed in a high-collared black robe with silver lining. He was still dressed in his traveling cloak which was an emerald green, fixed with a golden snake clasp. His cold, grey eyes scanned the room and came to a rest on the young boy still perched precariously on top of the shelves.
"Slave," Lucius said easily, idly walking over to the cauldron and peeking at the contents.
"When did you arrive back from school?" Lucius was in the middle of his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding, a place Snape had visited only in his dreams and the tales his mother told him that she had heard from her grandmother, the last of the free witches in her family.
"A few moments ago, for the winter holidays."
What, did you really miss me that much, wondered Severus bitingly. Carefully he removed himself from the top shelf and began to crawl down, facing Lucius. The older boy removed his cloak, folded it neatly, and placed it on the table. When he pulled out his wand, Severus stiffened, he'd had bad experience with magic. His mother said that was why his magic had not shown itself yet, because he was suppressing it. She hadn't sounded mad when she said it, just sort of sad and disappointed. It didn't matter anyway, once a slave's magic did show itself, their powers were bound. However, Lucius didn't aim his wand at Severus but at the door. "Signum," An advanced locking spell. Although it wasn't as if Severus could get past the simplest locking charm.
"What do you think you're doing?" He demanded, momentarily forgetting his place.
Lucius loped easily over to him and grabbed his arm, causing him to lose his balance and tumble to the floor. He landed awkwardly on his shoulder, sending throbs of pain down his side and bringing stinging tears of pain to his eyes. It was nothing new of course, Lucius had been tormenting him since he learned how to walk. The blonde leaned down and rolled Severus over on his back and ran a warm tongue across his neck. Severus shuddered, both in unwanted pleasure and disgust.
"What are you doing?" He repeated, barely suppressing the treble of fear in his voice.
Lucius ran his nimble fingers down Severus' face, causing the boy to flinch away. He spoke softly, his breath tickling Severus' ear, "You know, Mother and Father assigned you to me. Of course they wanted to give me one of the more competent slaves but..." his fingers trailed down the darker boy's chest, skillfully undoing the top button of his robe. "I chose you. You're different from the other slaves, you have...more spirit. Anyone can ride a slave, but they never forget the one who broke them. I have to say, I've been looking forward to this for months."
As Lucius' fingers worked on the rest of his buttons, Severus had a horrid realization of what was about to happen. Of course, he'd heard whispers among the older slaves that the Malfoys abused their power over certain slaves. Only the pretty and healthy ones though. Upon hearing this, Snape had been for the first time in his life happy he was a sickly and altogether undesirable child. He'd been told so often by Miss Coffer, the old woman who was like a grandmother to him and his mama, bluntly honest but immeasurably kind. At the thought of what was going to happen to him, a sudden burst of adrenaline rushed through his veins and he felt something warm rise up in him, his vision darkened, as if he was passing out.. There was a sudden flash of light and Lucius was tossed off of him.
Finally his vision cleared and he found himself alone on the floor. Across the room he heard strangled breathing and he glanced up to see what was going on. Lucius was pinned to the wall by the heavy, iron desk, held there by one knee, crying out desperately, trying to get some relief and move the heavy desk. Clumsily, Severus did his buttons back up and tried to decide what to do. He could try to move the desk but with his tiny body he doubted that he would get very far. Anyway, something rather dark in his enjoyed seeing the youngest Malfoy hurt and yet another part of him was afraid of what he'd do once freed. He could call for Lucius' parents, but then what would happen to him. Quietly, he whimpered in terror and put his head in his knees.
There was the sharp click of heels outside the door and a nasally female voice calling, "What's going on in there? What was that crash?" A gloved hand pounded on the door before resorting to magic to undo the spell. When she saw her child she gasped and instantly turned her rage upon the younger boy, "What did you do you little beast?"
With a wave of her wand she moved the heavy piece of furniture, causing Lucius to collapse. "I ca-can't feel my leg!"
Turning on the other boy with her mouth set in a grim line she hissed, "Crucio!"
Severus had been scurrying backwards in order to escape her wrath when the spell hit. Never before had he felt so pain, his entire body went rigid and began to tremble. Every nerve in his boy felt as if it had been set on fire. The pain was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It was all encompassing, for a moment he knew nothing else, no thoughts, no sense of being, no sense of time. Only a vast abyss of pain. It seemed to go on forever, a metallic taste forming in his mouth as blood and bile rose.
Finally a that he recognized as that of Abraxas, the master of the house, shouted, "Enough! Vittoria, you're killing him!"
"What's one more slave, darling?" She hissed vehemently, stopping the spell and swinging her wand between the nine-year-old and her husband.
"No need to point that thing at me, Vittoria, just tell me what happened." His voice was calm and even as ever. The voice that he used with his patients at St. Mungo's. Already, he was making his way over to his son, sweating profusely and it seemed to Severus that the man seemed rather sickly looking himself.
"That boy apparently came into his magic and decided to rebel."
"That's not true," cried Severus, trying to hold back the tears threatening to overspill. "I-I-it was an accident! I didn't mean to! He attacked me!"
Abraxas gave him a doubtful look and Vittoria let out a scornful laugh, "Oh, and a vicious little liar too."
With a heavy sigh the older man wiped his brow and called out, "Dobby!"
A sharp crack made Severus flinch until he realized that it was only the sound of the elf apparating. "What is you be needing, Master Abraxas."
"Dobby," he said in the sharp, commanding voice he used to direct all his servants, "take Sev...the slave out in one of the sheds. Leave him there, the other slaves will see to him."
"Yes, sirs!" Said the elf excitedly, giving Severus a lopsided grin. "Come along, young Mister Severus." Dobby grabbed one of his arms and began tugging him towards the door. Slowly, unsteadily, he got to his feet and followed the elf who was chattering about something. It was cold outside, the kind of cold that pierced your bones and made you seek shelter. He trudged across the yard until he came to the small broom shed that the elf had led him to.
"Are you being all right?"
"I'm fine," he said absently, opening to door and sighing with relief when he found that the small shed was magically heated. He scooted himself to the middle of the room and curled up in a small ball. His body still tingled from the curse and he was shaking slightly.
Dobby stared at him for a minute, pressing his large, floppy ears to his head in thought. "I knows what yous be needing. Dobby be back soon young Severus."
To be honest, the boy didn't care when the elf returned, he wanted to be alone with his misery. "He's in here Miss Eileen!" Dobby's squeaky voice called and the shed door cracked open. His mother's voice said softly, "Thank you Dobby, please leave me with my son." There was another loud crack as the elf disappeared.
"What's wrong my little Prince?" Severus smiled slightly at his secret pet name referring to his mother's name before she came here and it was changed to "Snape". When he looked up he saw her expression was soft and warm, tears began to fall down his face. She reached down with a dirty finger and wiped away the salty liquid, "Now, now. Enough of that, crying doesn't get you anywhere, now does it?"
"No," he whispered, sniffling. He told her the whole sordid story, her face hardening slightly as he went on.
"Oh, I'm sorry Severus." Eileen wrapped her arms around him and he buried his face in her long, black hair. For a moment she allowed him comfort, rubbing tiny circles on his back and humming a disjointed lullaby. A few minutes later she ended it, pushing him away gently and looking into his dark eyes with her icy blue ones. "I'm so proud of you, Sevvy. Your magic showed itself. My little wizard. You wouldn't have been able to harm him, except that he hasn't come of age yet. When he does you'll be bound to protect and obey him." He whimpered and she reached into her long black robes and removed a slip of paper and put it in his tiny hand, "This is the formula to a potion. You may not be much to look at, but you've got a brain and not everyone has one of those. Make this potion and drink it if things become unbearable. It'll take you away, if only for a few hours."
The door opened and she shoved the piece of paper into his robe where it wouldn't be seen. Abraxas stepped into the small room and gave a tight lipped smile. "Eileen, I would like to talk to your son."
"You can talk to me." Eileen said coldly and Severus gasped at the disrespect and show of rebellion. She stood firmly in front of her son and glared at the man. "How is the little monster by the way?"
"Lucius is fine. He'll have a bit of a limp, his knee was crushed it can't be completely healed using potions and magic. He should be up and about by time school starts."
She nodded, not offering her condolences or apologies on her son's behalf. "I suppose you've come to bind his magic?"
Abraxas didn't answer, instead he commented, "He is extremely powerful."
Eileen didn't comment, her blue eyes followed him as he paced across the small room. "My family and my cause could benefit from having a fully trained wizard at their disposal."
Severus swore that his mother's eyes lit up slightly, "Master, are you suggesting what I think you are?"
Abraxas inclined his head slightly, "Albus Dumbledore, the fool that he is, would be willing to accept a slave as a student. If Severus proves himself competent at magic, he may complete his seven years at the school."
"Thank you," Eileen whispered.
Abraxas removed a box from his robes and set it down in front of Severus. Hesitantly, Severus crawled forward and opened it. Inside was a beautiful piece of dark wood with red veins marking it's surface. "Ten inches, mahogany, dragon heart string. Excellent for dark arts or defending against them."
The young boy reached forward and picked it up, it felt warm in his hand, it felt as if it...belonged to him. He waved it experimentally and green sparks escaped from the end of it.
Present Day:
He sighed at the memory. It was actually one of his fonder ones, and no not just because he'd crippled Lucius Malfoy. That had been a turning point for him, when he was first introduced to the concept of hope. Of course, Lucius had quickly squelched the little bit he had when they arrived at Hogwarts. Bile rose in his throat at the memory of his last master.
"Are you all right, sir?" Asked the woman, still holding her tray, though her smile had faltered.
"What? Oh, I'm fine. Look I'm really in a hurry, I don't have time for lunch."
Her smile returned, "Time stands still in the Victorian Tea House."
With a heavy sigh, he allowed himself to be led into the small building. "Let me go prepare your table!" She said and hurried off behind a curtain. Taking this as his opportunity to escape he headed towards the door but stopped when he spotted a small stuffed animal for sale. It was a griffon with it's details done remarkably well and realistically for being a Muggle thing. He wondered if he should buy it, but no, the child was ridiculously spoiled already. However, he stood there for a minute considering it. He picked it up and took the Muggle money from his pocket and left it on the counter, quickly making his way out of the small building and rushing down the street.
He opened the door to The Leaky Cauldron and stepped inside, spotting the flash of red hair and making his way over to his table.
