For the disclaimer, see Prologue.
Chapter Four: Snakes Know Better
Severus Snape sat in his favourite chair by the fireplace, nursing a tumbler of firewhisky and telling himself he did not hate his job. It was an exercise in futility, of course, as he had sworn never to lie to himself again after the Evans girl fiasco.
Not that he had had any success.
He closed his eyes and leaned back, breathed deeply…
"There is a boy at the entrance, Mr. Snape."
His rest was interrupted by a voice Severus recognized as the guarding portrait's.
"Who is it? 'm not in the mood," he muttered without opening his eyes. His head throbbed.
"I don't know him," answered the portrait.
"Probably a first year who already wet his pants," mumbled Snape, standing and walking to the entrance of his chamber. Upon opening the portrait, he found himself facing Mirage, who was looking radiant as ever, dressed in a silky bottle green nightgown.
"Good evening, Professor Snape," he said. "This one wondered if you could spare a few minutes of your time?"
"Yes," said Snape, self-consciously rearranging his robes. "Do come in."
Mirage stepped in slowly and gracefully: pure feline grace. Severus felt a pang of guilt.
"May I offer you something to drink?"
"Tea would be marvellous, if possible."
"Indeed. Make yourself comfortable," Severus pointed towards the seats by the fireplace and called a house-elf.
"Thank you."
He turned to resume his sitting and ignored Mirage's gaze as it swept over the surroundings. Fortunately, the half-empty tumbler of firewhisky was replaced by a tea tray in a blink. Severus sat across Mirage and watched him prepare his tea.
Such a beautiful boy.
"How was your first day?"
Mirage hesitated and looked coyly at Severus from under his dark lashes.
Heat pooled in Severus' guts.
"This one would beg that you do not misunderstand its words, but this one enjoyed itself."
"How would I misunderstand?" asked Severus, sipping from his cup distractedly.
Suddenly intense, Mirage burst:
"Is it not betraying its Master? This one, having fun?"
Snape lowered his cup. Poor Mirage seemed about to cry. Gods, to think of all that had been done to this child.
"Mirage, listen carefully," Severus said slowly and clearly. Upon hearing the command, the child sobered and looked up. "It is not incorrect for you to have fun with your peers. Your master appreciates your being healthy and happy, is that not so?"
"It is so, Professor Snape."
"Indeed. Worry not. You are doing well. When I report to Our Lord I will speak favourably of you and the progress of your mission."
"Thank you, Professor." Mirage smiled sweetly, and Severus had the sudden urge to pull him into his arms.
"Are you taking your special medicine?" he asked.
"Yes. Master said to take it every Monday and Thursday, twice if there is a full moon."
Severus frowned. That was a bit too much. He would have to ask the Dark Lord about that high dosage.
"I see."
Mirage drank his tea silently, a soft smile curving his lips.
Severus swallowed his guilt.
"May I know to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"This one is sorry!" said Mirage, blushing. "This one wanted to ask about the Alchemy class."
"Ah, so you heard. Yes, Draco discovered Lucius took Alchemy while being a Hogwarts student and decided to add it to his own curriculum as well. He started a movement last year and the Board of Governors, no doubt aided by Lucius himself, approved the motion and appointed a professor."
"Is there any way this one can take the class?"
Severus appraised Mirage briefly.
"I would need to speak with both the Headmaster and professor Lorenz, but I'll let you know as soon as I have an answer for you. Is that acceptable?"
"Very much so, professor, thank you!"
"You seem excited," Severus noted.
Mirage blushed again and lowered its gaze, but said nothing.
"You should go to bed," said Severus after a few seconds.
Mirage stood and looked around.
"And where would the bedroom be, sir?"
Severus opened his mouth to make a scathing retort, but was cut short when Mirage began undoing the knot at his waist.
"Don't," he said, raising a hand in a halting gesture. Mirage stopped, blinked, blushed and seemed to shrink.
"This one is so sorry," he said, sounding so dejected Severus immediately felt like an arse. "Should this one go now?"
For a moment, Severus entertained the idea that he could ask the child to stay. That he could kiss those soft lips and relieve himself in his supple body.
The guilt that overrode this idea was crushing.
"You have done nothing wrong," he said at last. "I have a headache tonight. It's just not the best of times."
"This one understands," said Mirage without looking up.
Silence fell between them.
"Come, I'll take you to the dormitories."
Mirage awoke to Draco Malfoy yanking open the drapes of its bed.
"Are you seriously still in bed? We're almost ready to leave for breakfast, get up!"
Mirage blinked confusedly, unaccustomed to anyone waking it up before.
"Yes," it said groggily.
Draco puffed and left Mirage's bedside.
Mirage stood up and walked to the loo. Washed its face, combed its hair and brushed its teeth. When he returned to the dorm, the rest of the boys seemed to have gone already.
"Why are you naked?" asked then someone, startling Mirage. It was Nott, who sat silently in a nook by a window, reading a book.
"This one has not dressed," said Mirage, but Nott did not answer.
Going to its wardrobe, Mirage strapped on a harness and wore the rest of its clothes over it.
"Ready?" asked then Nott.
"Yes."
They both walked silently out of the dorms.
"Why are you still wearing that blasted… thing?" spurt Nott after a while.
"My harness?"
"I reckon you could call it that."
"Do you not like it?" asked Mirage, to which Nott could only stare, mouth agape. "Miss Greengrass, Miss Travers, Pansy and the others said it was 'cute'. My Master and Mr. Ma― some other men who have fucked this one have also found it to their liking."
If anything, Nott looked even more flabbergasted than before. After a moment he seemed to compose himself and grabbed Mirage by and arm, pulling it towards a dusty tapestry a little further along the hallway.
Mirage eyed Nott in apprehension as they neared the dusty cloth, but upon reaching it, instead of colliding nose-first with the wall, they passed through it, as if it was an illusion, and found themselves in a dark alcove just barely larger than a broom closet.
"Listen here," Nott whispered angrily. Mirage could feel his breath in its face. "Weren't you taught it is bloody inappropriate to speak of sex in public?"
"No," answered Mirage honestly. "Is it?"
"Yes! For fuck's sake! Don't ever say there's men who've fucked you!"
"Why?"
Nott huffed in exasperation.
"People will take you for a shirt-lifter, that's why!" he was almost yelling now, which Mirage found fascinating, as he was still trying to be discreet.
"That is a derogatory term for men who feel attracted to other men, is it not?"
"Bloody hell, will you get a hold! Yes! Yes it is!"
"So what's the matter?"
Nott sputtered incoherently.
"This one does like men," Mirage continued. "It also likes to be fucked. This one can refrain from making any mentions of it, if it bothers Mr. Nott, but this one does not worry about what others will say. This one knows how to defend itself."
"You…"
"Thank you, Mr. Nott," Mirage smiled sweetly at him, although it knew Nott could not see it in the darkness of the alcove. "This one understands you tell me this because you worry other kids will make fun of this one, but worry not. This one is fine."
"Theo," said Nott awkwardly. "You should call me Theo."
Mirage beamed.
"Breakfast?" it asked, not understanding why Theo was so tense.
Nodding, Theo guided Mirage out of the alcove and to the Great Hall. It was late, so most of the students had already left. The sixth year Slytherins, however, were heatedly debating something in their usual seats.
"It's old-fashioned!" exclaimed Draco, "So of course it's perfectly fine!"
"You are just saying that because your parents' marriage was arranged," retorted Pansy.
"I don' see why being old makes it wrong," said Goyle, defending Draco's point.
"It's not because it's old," said Bulstrode. "It's because everyone should be free to choose their own partner."
"That don't make it wrong," insisted Goyle.
"Are you seriously discussing arranged marriages," snorted Theo, taking a seat. Mirage sat beside him.
"Yes," said Lysandra Travers. "We're debating whether they're fashionable."
Mirage piled food onto its plate in silence. It was very much not informed about marriages in general.
"Who's talking about fashion?" asked Daphne Greengrass. "There's this something about them―"
"Right! They're a form of slavery!"
Pansy looked at Mirage suddenly and blushed. Everyone else fell silent.
Mirage fought the urge to stand and go somewhere else and concentrated on its tea instead.
Crabbe cleared his throat.
"He doesn't mind, does he?"
Nobody answered. Mirage began eating, wondering what to say to restore the easy atmosphere.
"Mirage," began Theo in a diplomatic tone. "You know you're a slave, right?"
"Yes," said Mirage plainly. The rest of the group was pointedly not looking at it from the corner of their eyes.
"Does it bother you?"
"No."
"Right. So I propose we settle this now, don't you all agree?" he addressed the whole of the group. "We all have questions that have been making us slip and talk nonsense. The other Houses also have questions. Some of us have been asked already, and we don't quite know what to say."
Mirage looked at Theo inquiringly.
"You can ask," it said. "This one will answer as best it can." Mirage noted the group seemed eager but still somewhat hesitant, so it added: "This one does not mind."
"Did he make you sleep in a box?" burst Goyle. There were a few facepalms.
"This one cannot remember a single time it ever slept in a box." Mirage assured bemusedly. "Not ever. This one has a beautiful room full of comfy furniture and a large bathroom all for itself."
"He does feed you properly, right?" asked Pansy, and Mirage recognized a glint of motherly worry in her sly eyes. "I mean," she blushed a bit. "you looked well-cared-after yesterday when…" she trailed off.
"Yes," said Mirage, amused. "This one has been fed. Master also gives this one especial medicine and nutritive potions."
"Potions? Gross."
"Do you ever take off the…" Blaise Zabini gestured towards Mirage's choker.
"Sometimes, yes. Here at school this one takes its collar off when it washes, for instance. Of course, you understand this one is supposed to always wear it in the company of others."
There were some murmurs of agreement.
"And why are you not marked?" queried Millicent Bulstrode. "I had read slaves were marked, usually with burn-marks."
"My Master said the snakes in this one's arms provide this one's marking. He devised them himself."
"So they're curse-marks? Like the dark mark?"
"In a way. They're magical as well, only they don't share purpose nor qualities."
"Do you have your own money?" asked Crabbe. "I heard slaves cannot purchase things. What happens if you go to a store? Would they kick you out?"
Mirage gave this some consideration.
"This one has never done any shopping," it confessed. "My Master has always provided for this one."
"But what about things that you need to be present to buy? Like your clothing and wand?" stepped in Zabini.
"There is a bald man that My Master calls when he decides we need clothing. He goes to Master's home to take measures and goes back a week later to deliver the clothing," Mirage told them with some excitement. It rather liked the old tailor.
"Wicked!"
"As for the wand, Master took this one to a shop run by a pair of old ladies in Norway. They measured this one up, made it run and sing and stand on its hands and asked a plethora of questions. Then weeks later sent this one's wand by owl." Mirage extracted the thin piece of ebony from its robe. It was 31 centimetres long, with phoenix' ashes as its core.
"But the wand, is it truly yours or does it belong to your master? I mean, you are not supposed to own anything, are you?"
"That is correct," said Mirage. It had given this very subject a lot of thought over the years. "This one has even asked its Master about it, but he said this one could consider everything that he has given this one as if it was its."
Goyle scrunched up his face.
"Huh?"
"He gets to keep things. Legally he would be unable to hold property, but in the practice slaves such as Mirage answer first to their owner and then to law," explained Theo.
"You mean he could act illegally and not be held responsible?" asked Draco, fascinated.
"Not him, but his owner would have to answer in his stead."
Mirage nodded.
"My Master has told this one that it must always act according to what he has taught it."
"But you do get to go on raids, don't you?" asked Daphne Greengrass. "What happens if you got caught?"
Draco Malfoy burst into laugh.
"Oh, please, Daphne, like anyone is against Lord Voldemort at this point!"
"That's not what I meant! What happens if Mirage kills someone, for example, would his master go to Azkaban for that?"
"He could," answered Mirage gravely. "This one is always careful, though."
There was a brief silence.
"You meant that comment about unforgivables yesterday," realized Pansy.
"What comment?" asked Bulstrode.
"Are you saying you've killed people?" asked Lysandra Travers, horrified.
Mirage stared at the girls.
"Of course," it said. "Haven't you?"
They shook their heads.
"Some of us have," said Theo darkly. "Don't you bloody go Hufflepuff on us now," he reprimanded the women. "Mirage is not the only one, nor are us Slytherins."
"Dumbledore alone was responsible for over a hundred deaths last war," reminded Draco proudly. "And I plan to make my first kill before I turn seventeen," he boasted.
"So you haven't yet," said Pansy, with a touch of sadness.
"It's been peaceful enough in Britain the last few years," defended Draco.
"Much as I'd like to stay," interrupted Theo, standing up. "I'd like to put my spare time to some use and pay some old friends a visit."
"What friends?" scorned Crabbe. "You barely ever talk to anyone."
"None of your damn business," answered Theo, turning for the doors.
"That sort of spoiled it," muttered Travers.
"We should all be going," said Draco. "We've pestered Mirage for long enough. I say we should go survey the pitch before practice starts, anyone game?"
The group stood and began walking, chattering excitedly about the quidditch teams.
Noticing Mirage remained at the table, Zabini turned back.
"Not coming?"
"This one is sorry," answered Mirage. "It would like to spend some time at the library, if it is alright with you all."
"Just what we needed, another boring bookie one!" complained Crabbe.
"We'll be at the quidditch pitch if you change your mind," said Pansy, elbowing Crabbe. "It's that way, you can't miss it," she added, pointing in its general direction.
"Thank you."
"Okay, then we'll see you later!"
"Laters!"
"See you," answered Mirage, waving at them as they retreated.
Following the path to the library was easy enough. Once there, Mirage proceeded to peruse the shelves for something on basic Alchemy. After some forty minutes, it sat at a small table in a corner and began leafing through the four tomes it had separated.
A few minutes later, a group of Ravenclaws took a seat at a bigger table nearby and cluttered it with parchments and books.
"What I'm saying is," began a girl with shoulder-length black hair. "If we posted a dragon here," she pointed to one of the parchments on the table. "You'd have to be at least level fifteen to continue."
"Why sure," said a boy with glasses. "But then we'd have to change all of these to make it worth their while after a dragon!"
"So? We can change it."
"You say that because you're not the one drawing," accused a girl with braided hair. "I still think a sphynx is more Ravenclaw."
Mirage watched them on the sly, still reading its books.
"No, no!" complained the boy at some point. "No poison, that's just too evident."
"What then?"
They paused, thinking.
"What about quicksand, a slow death?"
"Let's make it so other players can help, though."
Mirage smiled behind its book.
When it was nearing lunchtime, Mirage went to Madam Pince and registered three of the books to take with itself. It was turning to leave when it spotted Theo, walking towards the librarian with a couple of books, so it decided to wait for him.
"This one thought you were seeing some friends," commented Mirage when Theo approached.
"And I was," answered Theo smartly. "The books missed me."
Mirage laughed.
"This one is sure they did."
They walked together to the Great Hall and were just walking through a hallway when someone shouted from behind them:
"Hey! Isn't that the freak? Voldemort's bitch?"
Theo turned swiftly, drawing his wand. Mirage turned as well, hiding a smile at recognizing the voice.
"Be on your way, Weasley," warned Theo.
Mirage placed a hand on his elbow and pulled softly, prompting him to lower his wand.
"What? Is it your girlfriend now also? My, you've been busy down there."
"Stay quiet," Mirage told Theo barely above a whisper. It then turned to Ronald Weasley, "Nice prick you got there," it said lewdly. "Only this one likes them bigger."
Weasley blushed beet red.
"You've no idea who you're messing with," warned Finnigan.
Mirage opened its mouth to say 'enlighten me' but glanced at Theo and noticed he was decidedly pale. Instead, Mirage brought forth its full allure and directed it to Weasley. It saw clearly the moment it took effect, how the boy's pupils dilated ever so slightly, his nostrils flared and his whole demeanour turned disjointed and clumsy.
"Let's go," he urged his sidekick.
"What?"
"Dean is waiting, and we're too close to the Hall to start a fight."
"But―"
"We'll get it when it's alone."
They walked past Theo and Mirage, Finnigan glaring daggers at the latter and Weasley averting his gaze uncomfortably as he saw Mirage lick its lips obscenely.
"The fuck did you just do?" asked Theo when the two of them had disappeared around a corner.
"What do you mean?" answered Mirage, perfectly innocent.
"I felt…" Theo trailed off. "I must be going off my bloody rocker."
Mirage chuckled.
"Let them be," it said. "Let's go have lunch. This one is eager to meet the charms professor. Is it true that he is very small?"
A/N: I'm sorry for the hiatus. I had a lot going on and believe it or not, it took me five tries to get this chapter to be any decent. I'll try to update faster from now on. Please review with your thoughts, I assure you I'll take them into account during my writing of the next chapters!