Remembrance and Renewal by Avatar Arkmage and Nigel Tatsuya
Chapter Twenty-Seven:Of Slavery
Harry spent the greater part of the morning upon Severus's shoulders as they ventured from one muggle business to the next. They had just left the muggle apothecary, where Severus had purchased muggle medications for study, and tearless strawberry and grape scented children's shampoos and conditioners for Harry, for he still could not wash Harry's hair without getting shampoo in the boy's eyes.
Harry was not even required to slow his pace once they were back on the pavement, for Severus automatically lifted Harry onto his shoulders after he had shrunken and pocketed their purchases. Whether it was out of sheer habit, or because Severus actually enjoyed carrying his son now, was uncertain. Harry did not care either way. All that mattered, was that he was with his father now, and was savouring every moment of it.
From his high vantage point, Harry could better appraise the scores of people milling about the busy pavement. Some were apparently attempting to eat their lunches whilst rushing to go somewhere urgently. Others were leisurely gazing into each shop's window as they passed, time evidently mattering little to them. Still others were reading as they walked, and Harry hoped those people did not walk into a lamppost or stumble on the slightly uneven cobblestones. There was also a tall man walking in wide strides in their direction. He was bald, and had dark skin. He also looked very familiar!
"Father!" Harry whispered in Severus' ear. "What's Kingsley Shacklebolt doing in Muggle London?"
"Auror Shacklebolt? I am not inclined to inquire." Severus said, suddenly looking very uneasy.
"Maybe he's here to buy muggle stuff, just as we are? Maybe he's going to the same apothecary we did for some shampoo?" Harry speculated.
"Shampoo?"
"Ah, then again, perhaps not." Harry said, thinking better of it. "Auror Shacklebolt does not have hair, so what would he do with shampoo, eh?"
"Perhaps he might be here with other Aurors conducting an investigation of some sort." Severus shifted Harry from his shoulder and carried him against his chest. "Take care that he does not recognize you."
"Who would recognize me like this?" Harry tousled his hair so that the fringe obscured his scar completely. He nestled his head just under Severus' neck, and faced away from the direction Kingsley Shacklebolt approached from. Harry then hugged Severus tightly and wrapped his legs around his father's slender waist.
Severus then did something to make himself not recognizable even to Harry...he smiled hugely. A grin that would rival the Cheshire cat's of the story "Alice in Wonderland." To be sure, the smile looked about as natural on Severus's face as a satellite dish filled with fruit punch would look on Ron Weasley's head. It seemed almost painful for Severus to execute. Combined with the short blonde wig and the leather biker outfit, Harry decided that not even Albus Dumbledore would recognize Severus Snape straightaway.
Kingsley Shacklebolt passed them, only sparing the father and son the smallest of glances. All the while, Harry kept his face hidden, while Severus kept the huge, even stupid looking grin firmly in place.
It was enough to have Auror Shacklebolt walk away without being the wiser.
Severus sighed, the dour look reappearing on his face moments after Shacklebolt disappeared through the doors of a nearby muggle business. Harry leaned his head against his father's chest once more and whispered: "You really look good beaming like that. I wish I could give you a reason to smile like that for real."
This time, Severus only smiled inwardly whilst keeping his bilious expression in place. Harry did not know that he already gave Severus many reasons to smile for real. Just the survival of his little green eyed angel being one of them.
Instead of beginning their search of muggle hospitals for Draco, Severus and Harry returned to the manor once more. Harry was both relieved and a bit put down about it, but even he knew that they would have to take drastic measures to avoid being recognized by anyone. The brush they had had in town with Kingsley Shacklebolt was a little too close a call. What if they ran into some one who knew them better like the Abbots or the Creeveys next time?
"I'm going to have to go in ahead of you," Severus stated when they returned to the unkempt property that led to Snape Manor. "Your body, probably cannot withstand the strengthened wards."
Harry nodded, and sat on the pavement to wait. In the daylight, the abandoned lot looked significantly worse than it had the night before. The yard was overgrown with all varieties of weeds and brambles, and the dilapidated house looked as though it would collapse if even a small projectile grazed it. It was hard to believe, that just beyond what was visible from the street stood two glorious mansions amid an immaculately maintained lot.
"Make haste, Harry." Severus' head appeared from within the tree, "All but the illusionary wards are down at the moment, you should be able to pass without much discomfort."
After making sure no one was watching from the houses along the quiet street, Harry obediently dashed through the barrier and soon found himself back on the fragrant lawn of Snape Manor.
"How are you feeling Harry?" Remus Lupin, who was standing just behind Severus, asked.
"I'm only a little nauseous this time, thanks." Harry replied with relief.
"That's very good to hear." Lupin said, patting the boy on the head. "We're nearly finished with the wards, so you'll need to be really careful around the perimeter of the lot."
"I will, Professor Lupin, thanks for your help." Harry hugged his favourite professor before turning to follow Severus on the path toward the second Snape Manor.
Severus kept his eyes focussed directly ahead of him, almost as though he were trying to avoid looking in the direction of the original Snape manor altogether. This action made Harry all the more intrigued. What was it with Snape Manor One? Was Severus's childhood so bad that it left him too traumatized to even look at the place he was raised in? Were there too many bad memories from that place and Severus was avoiding anything that could rekindle them? Was there something evil in Snape Manor one? Or, was there something Severus simply did not want Harry to see?
If so, why did Severus not have Snape Manor One demolished? Although Harry could not quite understand why, he felt a strange sensation as he passed the first Snape Manor. He felt as though there were a presence observing him from its closed windows.
When the sensation intensified, Harry stopped and turned toward one of the large windows near the North end of the original manor, half expecting to see some one staring back at him.
"Harry!" Severus shouted, the colour in his already sallow face turning at least a shade paler. He dashed back to his son, lifted him into his arms as though he were an infant, and hauled him quickly back toward the second manor. "Come along!"
The sight that greeted Harry and Severus as they entered the kitchen of Snape Manor Two was bizarre to say the least. On the brightly polished tiles of the kitchen floor sat two little boys, only slightly older than Harry currently was.
They were gleefully engaged in a game of tug of war with what appeared to be homemade taffy. Harry was about to beg Severus to let him down so that he could play with other children, when he noticed that the boys were dressed as though they were from a different era entirely. One of the boys wore silky, red, Asian-style robes and had glossy, perfectly straight, long black hair which was partially fastened in an elaborate topknot, while the rest of the hair was either plaited or allowed to cascade freely down his back. The other boy wore old-fashioned European-style robes with a matching hat and had very long, slightly wavy auburn hair which was fastened in a loose ponytail.
Harry immediately recognized the boys.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry gasped in disbelief after Severus set him on the floor. "Grandpa Chang!"
Although barely recognizable in their drastically de-aged forms, The two boys turned toward Harry and smiled at him. "Join us?" asked Albus.
"Come and play!" YiChung seconded.
Harry eagerly sat beside the two boys and quickly turned the game into a three way tug of war.
"Good heavens!" Professor McGonagall said upon entering the kitchen, and eyeing he boys on the floor with mock disapproval. "Let me guess what happened. YiChung tried to retaliate for all the times Albus played dirty tricks on him and either tricked you into drinking a potion or cast a de-aging spell on you! And being the experienced wizard you are Albus, you cast your own spell in return simultaneously and now you both are stuck in this form for a while?"
"You are correct, Minerva." The boy Albus nodded, his blue eyes twinkling. "It seems YiChung has finally retaliated successfully against me... partially."
"Ohhhh! I'll get you someday, Albus, just you wait! And you won't even be ready to retaliate next time." YiChung said, offering Minerva some taffy.
"We shall see." Albus said, smiling as he took a bite of the freshly made buttery taffy. "But now that we are both little more than infants, our magics are weak, and we will have to learn to make due for the moment, as we cannot change ourselves back without help."
"I am not inclined to help you!" Professor McGonagall snapped in an austere manner as she gratefully accepted a chunk of finished taffy from YiChung. "And I will talk to Remus and Filius to make sure they don't help you either. You two are going to have to learn to deal with the consequences of your childish pranks!"
"You mean we gotta stay kids?" YiChung asked, starting to snivel.
"What will my grandchildren and the students say?" Albus started whimpering.
"Perhaps you can tell them that you are an example of what comes of too many pranks." Severus was somewhat appalled at the state of his kitchen, which looked like his lab usually did if one of the dunderheads blew up a caldron. Still, he had never expected to see Albus as a child, and found the sight almost comical.
"I hope you do not mind, good sir." Rastus said, frantically wiping powdered sugar off of the wood stove. "When Professor Dumbledore and Professor Chang turned into little ones, Rastus be thinking they would enjoy some taffy after their lunch so Rastus made some."
"You've done well," Severus said, helping himself to a chunk of finished taffy on a tray on the counter.
Harry took a bite of the homemade taffy and thought that he would never want to eat the commercially produced variety ever again. It was flavoured with a little vanilla and tasted heavily of the butter used to pull the confection. Who would have guessed that taffy could ever taste so good?
Hermione remembered seeing the nurse, who was transporting Draco, key the maxillofacial surgery floor on the elevator. Hermione did the same, wondering if Draco would still be in that ward. It seemed odd that Draco would be in a muggle hospital at all, and even more odd that Draco would be visiting anyone here. He had to be visiting a patient here, Hermione deduced, as Draco's own jaw was neither bruised nor bandaged. Pureblooded wizards avoided muggle hospitals if at all possible, and a family like the Malfoys would especially not have muggle friends to visit here.
Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, Hermione moved slowly down the corridors. She carried her borrowed medical texts high, hoping that the staff on duty would only believe her to be a medical student doing practical study, and not be very suspicious. Using her bushy hair to obscure her actions, Hermione stole covert, sidelong glances into the patient's rooms, looking for that pale blonde boy and for the identity of the patient he was visiting.
Because Lucius had always been so busy with his underhanded dealings with the ministry, and his clandestine activities with the Death Eaters, he had never had much time to spare for his only child Draco. What he did not give in time, he gave in material items, as though he were trying to retain his son's adoration and loyalty through the same bribery he used toward his colleagues and cohorts.
Lucius could not do that now, and Draco used the opportunity to collect his own recompense in time with interest.
"Father," Draco said, seating himself in the chair next to Lucius's bed. "I know you can't answer me right now, but I've been wanting to tell you something for a while now."
Unable to answer, Lucius just stared at Draco, urging him to continue with his undivided attention. "Don't get me wrong father, I still hate mudbloods and would never foul the Malfoy bloodline with mixed-blood whelps, and would disinherit any child of mine who did that." Draco stated with his condescension firmly in place. "But what I really want to say..."
Lucius didn't seem too far behind Draco's train of thought.
"...Father, Idon'tlikethewaytheDeathEatersdothings." Draco said quickly, as though it would generate less of Lucius's wrath if he did so. Now that he had started, he continued at a rapid pace, saying everything that had built up in his mind over the last few weeks. "I'd just as soon never look at a stinking mudblood in Hogwarts again, but do we really have to torture and kill them? Can we not just IGNORE those repugnant muggles altogether? Just let them live in the smelly dungheaps they call houses, and breed like the dogs they are? It's not as though WE HAVE to kill them or anything, we see how incompetent their healers are, it's a wonder the lot of them are not already dead." Draco leaned into Lucius's bed, his arm pressing against his father's. "What I'm saying is, I don't want to go about beating and killing people just because of what they are. If they are sell-outs like the Weasleys and Potter, well that's different. Mock them perhaps, but I'd not want to kill them, even though the Weasleys have so many children that they probably wouldn't notice right away if one was killed."
Draco gingerly reached for his father's hand, and to his delight, Lucius did not pull away. "I really don't like the manner in which The Dark Lord hammers his own people if they fail at something. I often become angry at Crabbe and Goyle when they err, then again, it's their nature to do err, but I don't want to subject them to the cruciatus curse or anything. Only a real whoreson would get his jollies beating on those under him. And beating on their families too? I heard you begging The Dark Lord not to pummel me and mum. I would never hammer Crabbe's mum or dad, no matter how many times he botches things up, and I'd never hurt his future wife or his kids. Even if I had the power to do that, I would not."
Lucius looked at his son, with apparent wonder in his storm grey eyes. He had been contemplating similar things ever since he, Narcissa and Draco had been subjected to the Dark Lord's Wrath. He was hardly willing to give up tormenting the muggles altogether, but his time in the muggle hospital made him less keen on torturing or killing them outright. Although some of the muggle treatments were uncomfortable, and sometimes even painful, Lucius knew that they were doing nothing purely out of cruelty, but merely because they lacked the ability to wield magic and had to compensate with their crude technologies.
Those technologies were not always so bad besides. Lucius was even considering the purchase of a muggle telly box, as he had been ignoring Narcissa of late. To spend all of her days in the large mansion all alone. Being in the muggle hospital, with no one but the staff members and an occasional visit from Draco for company, made Lucius realize just how lonely Narcissa must have been. Narcissa would surely enjoy the company of a muggle telly box.
Draco motioned to the Dark Mark on his father's now exposed arm. "Good job muggles are fond of decorating their own bodies. They probably thought that The Dark Mark was only a tattoo or a brand. I saw some pretty horrid skull tattoos on a muggle programme about bikers." Draco's sneer faded. "Can you do nothing to be rid of the Dark Mark, father? I know you probably don't want to leave the Death Eaters, but I'm sure you don't want them to hurt me or mum like this again." Draco suddenly looked worried. "You know, I've not been allowed to visit mum yet..."
Lucius feebly lifted himself into a seated position, his storm coloured eyes wide. "Mmmmph!"
"No, they haven't let me see her yet." Draco frowned. "They won't even tell me if she's alive. I've begun to fear the worst."
"MMPRRPH!" Lucius clutched the bed railing firmly. Where was Narcissa? Was she all right?
"Oh, father." Draco sighed, his characteristic condescending cast all but gone. "They haven't told you about her either?
For several minutes, both father and son exchanged worried glances. Unable to offer words of comfort to his son, Lucius painfully raised his arm and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder.
Not accustomed to comforting gestures from Lucius, Draco momentarily recoiled. Whenever Draco had been worried about anything in the past, Lucius would often promise Draco a new broom, or an enchanted toy. Failing that, he would simply hand Draco a few galleons to spend at Diagon alley. Now all Lucius could offer was what little silent reassurance he could spare, whilst being so worried himself.
"Oh father," Draco said, any shadow of his normally feigned bravado missing from his face. "I'm so worried about mum. And if The Dark Lord killed her..." Draco's condescending cast reasserted itself. "... well then I absolutely want no part of the Death Eaters. How do you know next time big Crabbe and big Goyle won't break your neck instead of just your jaw? And what if next time you fail The Dark Lord, he has me killed instead of just roughed up to punish you?"
Lucius squeezed Draco's shoulder lightly.
"We don't need them! Don't you see, father?" Draco scowled as though he were smelling untreated sewage. "We could lure members of the current Death Eaters away and start our own organization. You and me! Of course you'd have to be hidden from them, but you could still be my guide! After all, who better to lead an organization of purebloods than other purebloods like us?"
Lucius squeezed Draco's shoulder once more, pride swelling within him. This was his son, a true Malfoy and a true Slytherin to the core.
"You may no longer be free in the wizarding world, but I can continue the Malfoy legacy for you." Draco said proudly. "We can still influence the wizarding community! Potty may have put you in Azkaban, but the Malfoy Clan as a whole is not ruined yet! You can teach me what you used to do, and we'll still be a powerful influence in the wizarding community! We'll keep those filthy muggles out of our affairs, and out of our world! The magical world will be so much better without their kind meddling with our laws and muddying the waters. If they want to go to magical schools, they can bloody build their own!"
Hermione reached the doorway to Lucius Malfoy's hospital room and gasped when she saw who it was that Draco was visiting. "Lucius Malfoy!" Hermione thought, her face aghast. "What is he doing out of Azkaban? And why is he in a muggle hospital! Did Draco help him escape? Did they both get injured in the process? After all the crimes Lucius did, he did not deserve his freedom!" She pulled back slightly so she would not be seen by the occupants of the room, but could still hear the one-sided conversation clearly.
Caught up in it all, Draco wrapped his arms around Lucius's injured form, as he had done when he was much younger, although no less proud of his father than he was at the moment. "And when we get back our influence over the ministry, and have the best of the current Death Eaters at our beck and call, we'll keep right on working. And we won't stop until we have our organization's finest in the seat of the Minister of Magic! Mudblood lovers like Albus Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley will either have to comply with our directives or else they'll lose their posts! We don't need the current Death Eaters, we'll build our own, better, more intelligent and more powerful Death Eaters! And when we're finished, those filthy mudbloods will never set foot in Hogwarts again!"
Hermione had heard enough. She angrily pursed her lips together so tightly that the colour from them vanished completely. She knew what she had to do now, and was glad that she was in London. She would board a bus, quickly make her way to the Ministry of Magic headquarters, and tell them exactly where to find Lucius Malfoy.
At the sound of angry breathing behind him, Draco turned in time to see to see a bushy brown head moving away from the doorway.
"GRRANGER?" Draco shouted, barely able to contain his indignation. How much had she heard? How dare she eavesdrop on their conversation regardless! Draco jumped out of his wheelchair and gave chase, fully intending to catch up with Hermione and retaliate stoutly against her for her excessively meddlesome tactics. All too soon, Draco found that he was hindered drastically by his own injuries. He forced himself to run, every step causing his body to hurt as though a score of bone breaker curses were upon him.
Her stratagem uncovered, Hermione raced toward the fire escape without looking behind her once. She had to get to the ministry and tell them exactly where to find Lucius Malfoy. She had to tell them where they could arrest him, and they would have to act quickly, before Lucius could find another means of escape.
Draco forced his battered body onward, the realization of what Hermione was bound to do terrifying him to no end. Mudblood Granger was a no-good tattle tale. She even told on Potty and Weasel when they committed infractions on the rules at Hogwarts, after all. She was bound to go straight to the ministry and tell them where they could find Lucius Malfoy. Lucius could not go back to Azkaban! He just couldn't! The dementors would kiss him for sure this time. And because of who he was, the other prisoners would beat him or worse. Draco forced back thoughts of what Lucius' brief time in Azkaban must have been like and ran as fast as he could.
"Urff!" Draco exclaimed when he lost his footing and slammed onto the floor.
Hermione sighed with relief at the heavy sound of flesh striking the tiles. Draco had fallen, thereby granting her the opportunity to run into the fire escape, and rapidly descend the stairs. In most cases, she would have stopped to render aid, but time was of the essence, and Draco was in a hospital besides. Help was not far away. Thanks to her heroic intervention, Lucius would be back in Azkaban by nightfall.
"Come along Harry," Severus said, once Minerva, Remus, Filius and the de-aged Albus and YiChung left. "We must alter your appearance if we are to visit Draco."
"Alter my appearance?" Harry said, sitting on the chair that Severus led him to.
"Since it would too dangerous for Draco to have the knowledge that Harry Potter is my son," Severus began, laying out palettes of what appeared to be makeup and paintbrushes. "We will explain that you are my son, Harry Snape."
"But won't Draco wonder how you got a child..?" Harry stopped suddenly, "Oh... he'll just assume that since you're a Death Eater like his father, you probably got some woman pregnant whilst on a raid and..." Harry's expression turned sad. "And you only found out that you had a child recently."
Severus's face remained impassive, although he cringed inwardly, at the thought of what Draco was bound to think of him.
Rastus scampered into the room with a box of what appeared to be strands of hair in virtually every colour, styling implements and jar of a putty like compound. The very human-like house elf then sectioned off some of Harry's hair and applied the putty with a small brush and attached a few of the long, black hair strands to Harry's own hair.
"Wow!" Harry said, looking at the completed section. " It looks like real hair! Like my own hair! How did you learn to do that so well?"
"We house elves must to be making our masters look pretty so we learn how to do hairstyles and makeup." Rastus replied, adhering more strands of black hair as he spoke.
While Rastus worked, Severus applied a greasy base over Harry's scar, then began brushing a powder closely resembling Harry's skin tone over it, effectively concealing the scar completely.
His interested piqued, Harry quickly stated that he was curious about certain matters, as he watched Rastus continue creating very convincing shoulder length hair.
"Ask anything you like, Rastus will try to answer." The eager human-like elf said, combing a newly applied lock of hair.
"Rastus, you don't look like any of the other house elves I've ever seen. You look... well you look almost like a human..."
"AAah!" Rastus shuddered and dropped a swatch of black hair to the floor. "Rastus is a house elf! Rastus is not a human."
"I'm sorry, I did I offend you?" Harry said, closing his eyes as Severus applied some base to his eyebrows. " I didn't mean to offend you, really I didn't. I was just wondering that's all."
Harry watched as his father began to brush a pale powder all over Harry's face, rendering his skin very pale and sallow. "Father, remember when I said I saw some of your past when I was recovering from being almost drowned?"
Severus nodded.
"Why did I never see a house elf at Snape Manor?"
"Because we had no house elves then. Your grandmother and grandfather were both cast out of their families, and therefore did not inherit the services of their family's elves." Severus said, carefully applying a dark powder to Harry's brows.
"So how did you get Rastus?" Harry asked. "And why does he look so much like a human? Does he have human blood?"
For a few moments, both Severus and Rastus exchanged uncomfortable glances.
"As Rastus will someday be young Snape's house elf, Rastus thinks young Snape should be told."
Severus nodded. "Are you sure you want him to know?"
"Rastus trusts young Snape very much." Rastus stopped to gently comb Harry's extended hair before continuing to attach more strands.
Severus sighed, as though what he was about to convey was a cause of great embarrassment. "Harry, one of the things you should know about the wizarding world, is that our books, especially history books, sometimes omit facts and occurrences that are determined to be too shameful to be made widely known."
"Oh! Like how muggles frequently write revisionist histories in their schoolbooks?" Harry asked. "They make their own countries sound peaceful whildy making others sound like they are full of mean killers?"
"I would not know what the muggle textbooks say, but you're probably right." Severus continued applying the powder to Harry's face as he went on. "One of the shameful things that wizarding families used to sometimes do was to impregnate their house elves to ensure a high census of servants in their households."
Rastus cringed slightly, but nodded to Severus to continue. "As you can imagine, it got to the point that house elves were starting to look more and more human...with features very much like the wizarding families that they were serving."
"But wouldn't house elves with human blood have a higher status since they were part human?" Harry asked.
"No, even one drop of elf blood made you a servant." Severus said in disgust. "you can imagine after centuries of breeding in that way, there were house elves who were virtually indistinguishable from humans."
"There were also brothels in hidden places throughout the wizarding world, as part-elfs were thought to be more beautiful than either pure elves or pure humans. The highest prized prostitutes were the quadrelves, females and young males who were only one quarter elf and three quarters human. Some wizards even paid thousands of galleons for a quadrelf, which they kept for the purpose of..."Severus stopped, as though he were choosing terms suitable for a child. "...inappropriate forms of recreation."
"Just about a hundred and fifty years ago, the Ministry of Magic finally put a stop to the elf brothels and made owning elves that weren't pureblooded elves illegal, and attempting to reproduce with a house elf a crime."
Harry's face went pale. "So what did they do with the mixed blooded elves who were already alive?"
"They were slaughtered." Severus whispered, unable to meet Harry's eyes.
"Then Rastus..."
Nearly all of Harry's hair was extended now, and Rastus only adhered stands to the areas that appeared thin. The elf replied, once again brushing out Harry's extended hair. "Rastus is an octarelf. Rastas had a quardrelf mum, and a great-grandmother who was a pureblooded elf."
Rastus began to add strands more quickly now, "Master Severus, may I have permission to tell young Snape the rest?"
"It is your story to tell." Severus nodded as he began to brush powder lightly over Harry's neck.
Rastus pointed a thin finger in the air and drew a large circle, the circle floated a few metres in front of Harry and began to project images like a great pensieve. In it Harry saw an estate far grander than either of the Snape Manors. The house was more richly furnished and its rooms were larger in size. Harry wondered for a moment if he were looking at Malfoy Mansion, but saw an entirely different, though equally wealthy, family in the images. The fact that their faces were somewhat blurred, led Harry to conclude that either the elves preserved their master's anonymity or else elves just never looked their masters in the face. "Rastus has served his family for over fifty years, but in that time Rastus has had to hide himself so no one would know about him, because masters should not be keeping elves with human blood."
The images of Rastus cooking in kitchens without windows, and washing clothes in what appeared to be a darkened basement flashed within the elf's spherical pensieve. "One day, about eighteen years ago, the master got word that the ministry be raiding the master's house, so his family gathers all us mixed blood elves together and..."
Rastus could not continue and began wailing, but the 'pensieve' resumed the narrative where the elf could not. Harry saw not only the head wizard and witch of the house, but the children too, assail the mixed elves with large stones, decapitating them with crude axes and impaling them on swords.
Harry averted his eyes at the carnage. "That's so mean! And why didn't they use killing curses? Why did they have to kill the elves in such painful ways?"
"If master uses the killing curse, the ministry will know. So master's family must kill without magic." Rastus whimpered. "Because Rastus has so much human blood in him, the young master was to kill Rastus."
Harry gaped in horror at the sight of a boy who looked to be about eleven or twelve years old dragging Rastus into an area on the grass, far from the grand mansion. Rastus wore nothing but a wretched bed sheet which looked like an oversized toga on the elf's lithe body.
"Forgive me, Rastus." The young wizard sobbed, removing the hat from his own brown haired head and placing it on the elf's head. "At least you'll die free."
The boy wrapped a cord around Rastus's neck and proceeded to strangle him. Rastus gasped in pain and struggled to draw a breath, but obediently endured the harsh treatment.
"No Rastus, don't look at me like that. I'm doing this because I like you, and I don't want you to suffer too much." The wizard sobbed. It was obvious to Harry that Rastus had not only been a servant, but a friend to the young wizard boy. "If you are set free, you'll be killed because you're only partially elf. So just die! Rastus, just die quickly!"
Tears washed tracks of powder off of Harry's face, as the realization that the wizard boy was really killing his own relative, perhaps his own brother dawned. Rastus and the wizard boy had virtually the same colour hair and almost the same complexion. Rastus obediently hacked and coughed, but did not struggle to escape the young wizard's choke hold.
"YOU FOOLISH BOY!" came a harsh voice from behind the young wizard. "That is no way to kill a house elf! You will learn to do this right even if I must beat it into you!" Harry cringed as he watched what could only be the boy's father remove his belt and thrash the boy until his clothes were riddled with bright red stains.
"Please father!" the boy screamed as his father beat him mercilessly. "I can't do it any other way! I love Rastus like a brother." The young wizard broke down and cried harder after his father punched him squarely in the face, causing his nose to bleed profusely. "HE IS MY BROTHER ISN'T HE!"
Harry watched the scene in horror, how much like Severus and Lucien the son and father in the pensieve were. "You will not refer to a slave... a lowly house elf as a brother!" The father said, virtually emphasizing each word with a blow.
In defiance of his former master, Rastus jumped onto the boy, shielding him with his own body. "No more hurting the young master!" Rastus yelled.
"YOU DARE!" The elder wizard screamed, turning his aggressions fully on Rastus. "I curse the day I purchased your quadrelf mother and made YOU!"
Harry shut his eyes. For what seemed like an eternity, all Harry could hear was the elf's very human cries. And then Harry heard a very familiar voice...his father's, resonating from within the elfin pensieve.
"Thank you for coming." The wizard said to what appeared to be a mediwizard standing next to a younger Severus Snape. "My son seems to have fallen off of his broom again."
"Well tend to him straightaway." The Mediwizard said, following the lord into the great mansion. "This is, Severus Snape, one of my most brilliant students from the University. He has been developing new healing potions which could bring about your son's rapid recovery."
Harry could barely repress his anger. The boy had not fallen off of a broom, he had been beaten. How Harry wished he could tell the Mediwizard and the younger version of his father that.
When Harry finally returned his attention to the elf's pensieve he saw Severus and the Mediwizard leaving the mansion, looking relieved. Harry beamed with pride. Severus's potions must have saved the boy's life.
Once they were out of the lot, the mediwizard bid the young Severus Snape goodbye and apparated away. Severus looked as though he were about to apparate away as well, but stopped when he heard someone crying. He doubled back to the source of the cries and came upon Rastus who was pinned to a tree with a long sword through his chest. The elf looked as though he had been beaten with a heavy, blunt object, and had been stabbed numerous times.
"Who would do this to a child!" the younger Severus mumbled under his breath and appraised the sword still in the elf's chest.
Rastus's hat fell off, revealing his pointed ears. "You're part elf?" Severus asked.
"Please good sir." Rastus sobbed, crumpling toward the ground, causing the sword to cut deeper into his flesh. "Please help Rastus to die. Take the sword and stab Rastus in the heart until Rastus is dead. Or cut off Rastus's head."
"WHAT?" young Severus yelled incredulously. "I most certainly will not!"
"Please sir." Rastus whimpered. "Help Rastus to die. Rastus is not allowed to live sir. Rastus must..." the elf's eyes went glassy. "...die..."
Harry cheered out loud when he saw young Severus carefully remove the sword from the elf's chest and wrap the elf in his University robes. The memory in the pensieve flickered out when Rastus finally lost consciousness in young Severus's arms.
"Young Snape, your father, is a saint!" Rastus proclaimed with tears in his large eyes. "Even though Rastus is not supposed to be living, your father would not let Rastus die. He brought Rastus back to Snape Manor and took care of Rastus until Rastus was well again. And because Rastus has nowhere else to go, Master Snape lets Rastus serve at Snape Manor and will let Rastus stay forever."
Harry smiled broadly at Severus, "You're wonderful, father!"
Severus dismissed the praise. "It was no more than anyone else would have done."
"You always say that! You could have left Rastus to die, but you didn't. You could have killed Rastus to put him out of his misery, but you didn't. And you could have abandoned Rastus after he healed, but you let him stay! We know better, you are wonderful !" Harry said, putting an arm over the house elf's shoulders.
"Ah, but...I needed a house elf... and I can't upkeep the manors whilst I'm at Hogwarts." Severus said, fending off more adoration.
Harry just smiled at Rastus as the elf began adding reddish strands to simulate natural highlights in Harry's hair. "Well I like you a whole lot, Rastus! And I'm glad father is letting you stay here for the rest of your life."
"And I am eternally grateful to the wonderful Severus Snape!" Rastus said, putting away the extra hair strands and the implements. "Master Severus never beats, or speaks harshly to Rastus. He is the kindest and greatest wizard Rastus has ever met! Rastus will serve the great Master Severus and his children and grandchildren forever!"
"You're so right!" Harry seconded. "Father is GREAT!"
"Oh cease your infernal tributes to me! I did nothing deserving of such accolades. I wanted to test my skills at making healing draughts for humans with the blood of other species and I needed a house elf to maintain Snape Manor besides." Severus said, avoiding looking in Rastus and Harry's direction altogether.
"Whatever you say, father!" Harry said, winking at Rastus.
"All that I ask," Severus said, turning his back to Harry, "is that you never dismiss Rastus. He is free to go if he wishes, for he is properly clothed. But I've promised him a home in Snape Manor for the rest of his life, and you must make your children promise to never tell others of Rastus's existence or send him away."
"I promise, father." Harry said, hugging the sobbing house elf. "To me, he's not my servant, but a member of my family! One of the Snape family."
"Young Snape! You be every bit as wonderful as your father!"
"Will you two just shut up!" Severus scowled, still avoiding Harry's adoring eyes as he stomped out of the room.
Rastus and Harry exchanged grins.
The sun had long since set when Severus and Harry finally located the right hospital. They had been to several others, only to be met by blank faces when they asked for 'Draco Malfoy's room.'
"Do you think Draco likes Chocolate covered macadamia nuts?" Harry asked.
"I don't know." Severus replied, ducking slightly to avoid banging Harry's head into a low doorway to the pediatric ward. "Did you not ask him?"
"No, I didn't ask him what kind of candy he liked." Harry said, crouching low to avoid hitting his head on one of the signs in the corridor. "I just said I'd...well you... I mean I said I would bring him some candy to make him feel better. He was really scared of coming to a muggle hospital. He thought the muggle doctors would cut him up and stuff."
"Don't they indeed 'cut people up?'" Severus whispered.
"Well they do, but not to be mean or anything like that. They only do it if they have to fix something inside you, but they can't reach it from the outside. They can't use magic, after all." Harry replied.
Severus set Harry on the floor when they reached the room the ward clerk said Draco would be in. The door was open, and Severus sighed in relief at the sight of the pale blonde head just above the covers.
"Draco," Severus called softly, knocking on the door and walking in with Harry lagging behind. As little as Harry was at the moment, he still held a considerable amount of animosity toward his one time rival. This had been the boy who had teased and tormented him shortly after his reintroduction to the wizarding world. This was the boy who had insulted his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, for years.
Yet strangely, Harry could not find it in his young heart to bring any of that former hatred to the surface. Something seemed very wrong with Draco at the moment.
Draco was laying face down on the bed, only the upper part of the blond head visible. At first, Severus and Harry concluded that Draco must have been asleep, and planned to leave the candy with a note indicating that they had visited. But the teen was trembling far too much to be sleeping.
Harry kept his distance, even as his father moved closer to the youth.
"Draco?" Severus spoke once more, gently placing a hand on his godson's shoulder.
Draco only responded by trembling more intensely.
"Draco, it is I." Severus said, feeling along the youth's body to determine the extent of his injuries. After finding no injuries that could prove threatening, Severus carefully turned Draco onto his back.
The look on the pale teen's face was unlike anything Harry had seen before. Where Harry was accustomed to seeing sneers or haughty glowering, there remained only a look of undiluted terror. Draco's pale blue-grey eyes were wide, his cheeks were virtually colourless, and his lips were trembling fiercely. He looked as though he had seen something utterly horrifying and could not get over the shock of it all.
"Oh Merlin!" Harry thought to himself. "What if the muggle doctors had been bad to Draco after all? He doesn't look well!"
Severus gently cradled Draco in his arms, whispering gentle words that Harry could not quite decipher into in the pale boy's hair. "Draco, I've brought you the confections my...I promised to bring for you. My son Harry wanted very much to meet you as well."
After nearly half an hour of coaxing, an infinitesimal measure of fear abated from Dracos face. He still looked as though he had seen something terrifying and was still in shock, but he regained the ability to speak.
"What is wrong, Draco?" Severus pressed, "tell me?"
"FATHER IS DEAD!" Draco replied somewhat flatly, though stridently.
End Part Twenty-Seven
