Hi! It's been a while since the last one and I know that it was useless but this one was sitting for some time on my phone [I write on mobile] and I figured, why not upload it?
This may not be as satisfying as the other ones but this is the one I churned out in my bouts of sporadic inspiration that is usually unstable
Thanks for the love and reviews [Hands everyone a cookie]
Trigger Warning though so yeah...
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Severus was pushed back, turned around and roughly cuffed with magic binding chains much like what they use in wizengamot trials except that instead of simply stopping magic to be performed, it siphons the wearer's magic as it is released leaving one magically exhausted until all magic is used up and the wearer turned into a squib. He was pushed from behind by a strong force and pinned on the bed that smelled of trapped moisture and moth. He was powerless like a newborn kneazle without fangs nor claws kicked out of its litter. Oh, Salazar is this how I die? He thought as he tried to find a chink of weakness in the cursed metal
Blows rained upon his young body but alas! Even the reprieve of passing out from pain was denied to him as he was blasted into consciousness just as it was in reach. As the pain became unbearable to his body, He retreated to a place in his mind where he cannot be touched and hurt by this people; if they can be considered as such.
"What makes the prince line superior?" He asked his grandfather who looked up from his account books.
"Well my boy, we practice dominance and control in every situation" the old man answered after a while smiling at him. A genuine smile, not the snide smirks or impatient raising of both sides of his thin lips as he taught the child the ropes of wizarding world but a proud one for his grand child's interest in his affairs.
In a flash, all of his clothes disappeared leaving him as naked as the day he was born. Goosebumps rose on his battered flesh as the cold, stale air wrapped him in a deadly embrace
"We are born masters and you ought to remember that lad." The older prince said as he applied healing salve on the young boy's back after a beating courtesy of his abusive muggle father. He told his grandfather that he was only clumsy and fell on the school stairs but the old man's eyes seethed in quiet disbelief
A heavy weight has set upon his back. Unseen fingers caressed his thin body covering every inch. First going light then going rough as if searching for something.
There are people who are born more superior than most and it is the inferior's role to submit to the superior's will and destiny. " the old man said as he beat a tenant for not being able to pay half a year's rent and stealing in the house stores
He grasped at the unwanted sensation feeling filthy as it continued to roam along the planes of his young body. The hands shifted as if finally finding its prize.
"How do I become superior? A Master by my own rights?" He asked his grandfather as he escaped to visit after his father beat the daylights out of him and threatened to pull him out of the freak school in a bout of accidental magic
"It is not the matter of being called as one child; The title is earned." His grandfather paused before declaring that he is old enough to learn the ways of the world
Sharp claw-like fingers dug in his ribs leaving marks on its trail. His blood trickled slowly in the dirty white sheets contrasting on his pale body.
"Then, how do I earn the title?"
"Dominance my boy. Everyone is an animal who submits to an alpha. Everyone can sense that you are a breed above the rest but it is your actions that prove it."
A sharp pain coursed through him. One that he had never imagined possible. It was a sensation unlike any other. He felt like he was being torn in half continuously as his body was invaded by a foreign matter
"What is this place, Sir?" He asked as he was led to a circular clearing. everywhere he looked was tall pines with branches as thick as hagrid's legs*
"This is the den of the masters. A title you will inherit someday." The old man replied before several pops revealed a dozen tall figures surrounding him in black billowing cloaks and bone white masks "Now kneel"
"Take that boy! You and your kind will never hurt someone like this again" a large, gruff voice boomed on top of him but he was numb. Numbed to pain, numbed to insults, numbed to the core. He was now simply staring silently at the headboard as his head came nearly crashing in it back and forth.
"How does it all start?"
"It all starts from being desensitized to pain self-inflicted or otherwise" His grandfather replied as the whip left its mark on his bareback causing stray tears to fall down the marble floor. "Empty your mind boy! Nothing can hurt you unless you allow it to"
"Sorry"
"Again"
He lashed out with animalistic ferocity. Pulling onto the charmed chains willing it to break. Willing his captors to die a slow horrible death as red filtered his sight.
"This muggles will serve as your target. You must inflict upon them pain borderline to elation" The elder Prince said yanking a chain connected to some freshly collected muggles most of which looked to be homeless and druggies
"But" He protested seeing a small child and a heavily pregnant woman
"Make them thank you for it! Make them beg! yes, boy make them beg for their affliction" His Grandfather spat throwing the end he was holding to the floor. He knew he must or they will die in the most painful ways.
His thrashing is for naught as the chains did not give his fervent wish. His backside ached from last night's activities. He now assumed a fetal position. Balling his body to prevent more injuries in his internal organs but he knew as well as his captors that it was all for nothing as it had been in the last few sessions, he would be forced to stay still as the men tried to guess who would rupture more internal organs then they would have a round of drinks and return for some had never cursed his fast healing due to wizard blood until that moment.
"A prince should be honored to present his domination to a willing audience of masters. Even the high and mighty Lucius Malfoy was not given the title so you must prove yourself worthy. Make your house proud. Make your grandfather proud" His grandfather whispered before presenting him as one would a gladiator
The men have returned again for their 'fun' but this time he will not fight. They have truly broken his will. His long fingers that were once sure in its grip is now a shuddering mess barely able to grasp the edge of the chains holding him upright in the cell he was transferred to after the fifth day or was it?. His eyes, a dark pool of emptiness reflected his own will to survive and his once proud shoulders now cowing in fear of his tormentors, of the shadows dancing in the corners of his vision, of the ghosts conjured by his own mind to torture his every waking moment and followed him to his nightmares.
Hours passed by without his knowledge. How long has it been? Days? Weeks? Months? In his dark dingy cell where there is no way of marking the passage of time, he could not know. It used to bother him but It didn't matter for long. All that matters is the numbing sensation he forced upon his beaten meat suit that is now no more than bone and sinew.
"Take this dagger and with it, offer your sacrifice. May all creatures see your worth" Ambrose Prince announced giving him the gilded dagger laced with silver. The cold metal bit into his palm. What is some more blood in his hands if it meant acceptance as an equal? It was no great sacrifice
His chains were being taken off slowly revealing dried blood stuck on its edges to be replaced with a neck chain. But his captors are being lax and for a split second, he was free from all holds. His arm quickly shot out to hit one breaking nose in the process. Another was kicked through a wall and the third was clipped on the side with a well-placed jab.
He quickly ran to his wand placed In a table just outside his cell to taunt him. Tell him that he is powerless without a piece of wood. Holding it like drowning man's lifeline, he pointed it to his captors and fired spells through the three. Up to this day, he will never know what he hit those three with for in a flash of pure intent and hatred, the three vanished in a cloud of smoke and ashes.
"The elements have accepted your offering. You are no longer Severus Snape a half-blood. I now pronounce you Master Sebastian Prince, Heir to the most noble house of Prince family. Accept your magical name, hierarchy, and title. May you cause no shame to your house and kin" Ambrose Prince announced as he held up the ceremonial dagger coated with the dark poisonous blood of the nether beast; a creature that is said to have roamed the earth after escaping from the bowels of hell itself unable to be embodiment of all that is wild and savage now tamed. Only a week old and already dead to cleanse the taint of his blood
He woke in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and panting. It was all a dream; nay, A memory of the past that cannot harm him now unless he allows it to. He tells himself over and over again like a chant.
"You must rest, take this" Sebastian whipped his head to the direction of the voice. A tall outline walked towards his infirmary bed to reveal the potions professor handing him a vial "Its dreamless sleep potion" the man added when the lad hesitated to drink. After a cursory sniff that confirmed its content as the weaker brew that is little more than a calming draught he took a swig.
"Why are you here?" He asked warily not even the old coot Dumbledore visits at this time of the night and here was this stranger walking around the school as if it was daylight
"Just checking on you"
"What's it to you"
"Not everything has to be done for a purpose Mr. Prince but I did come to get your vitals if that helps" The man declared. Tinkling of glass tickled the air as the silence was broken.
"How are you feeling?" The professor asked a tad bit too cheerily for this time of the night
"Paralyzed to the waist down" Sebastian replied panic overriding him as the numbness crept its way up and is now halfway up his abdomen. His arms are losing what little strength it had and he found it hard to move a finger much less to raise his arm
"Good" replied the Lucius Malfoy imitation before getting a red vial from his trolley. A vial that was not supposed to be there or anywhere near students in general.
"Stop!" He said in a tone that radiated power. The tone he dare not use for
"So you did remember," the professor said wondrously dropping the vial he was holding causing the dark liquid to pool beneath his dragon hide boots. the glass crunched ominously as he walked beside the bed and sought the young man's eyes. Blue eyes met black and for a moment, panic gripped Sebastian's heart before the potion kicked in overriding his body's instincts
"You are not yet ripe for the picking" the potions master declared disappointedly pointing his wand "obliviate"
He was woken up in a jerk in the middle of the night. A nightmare probably; he could not remember. It would not be the first time he was roused from one and could only be thankful it did not chase him to his waking hours.
He looked at his godson who was sleeping the sleep of the innocents. Golden hair removed from its usual perfect form splayed messily around the white standard infirmary pillow. One would see him as an angel who had just fallen off grace in this state but unfortunately for Severus, he knew his godson is anything but the spawn of the devil.
He cannot help but wonder, where was the child who beamed at him from the parlor across the fireplace every time he visited. The child who had a hundred and one questions about everything irritating his father each time they met. The sweet boy who would ask him to read a bedtime story curling in his lap before he departed no matter how slurred his speech was from the well-aged drinks Lucius offered.
That boy is dead. Killed by his father's pureblood ideologies.
By his mother's weakness of will.
By society's lack of interference
By his godfather's deficiency
By the next year, his godson will be no more and in his stead will be a newly recruited death eater desperate for recognition. Perfect for the dark lord's nefarious plans.
This young man does not deserve his lot in life but then again, life is not fair he thought before darkness consumed him in its dark abyss
He was woken up by ridiculously loud Gryffindors who are doing their best imitation of silent and falling astoundingly short.
"Shh Ron, you'll wake him up" Miss Granger said in a stage whisper
"But madam Pomfrey says he's only injured waist down" The redhead whined
More mumbling "Let him have his sleep"
some unnatural, sudden jerks near the bed suggested that some of them decided to have a try on sign language "Yeah man, he's beaten up bad" another mumbled
"Wanna play wizarding chess while we wait?" The younges Mr. Weasley asked in a shout that could rouse the dead
"Sure but don't blame me if I lose" more mumbling
"Have I been transferred to a circus while unconscious without my knowledge?" He asked incredulously when a garish plethora of redheads welcomed him to the land of living
"Listen, Dumbledore announced a house competition. Whoever raises the most fund will get to decide what to do on Halloween" The elder Mr. Weasley; he could not remember which one said conspiratiously
"Let me guess; you will provide remedial and advanced tutorial lessons," he said pointing at Miss Granger
"Memorabilia from the boy who lived" He raised a questioning brow to the celebrity
"And... Well I guess a cookout if there will be food left to sell?" he asked looking at The redheads as the illegal pranks cannot be allowed on such fundraisers by the head of the house not that he would if that was the case.
"And your advice booth" The other twin said before ducking behind the back of the other.
"What?" He shouted not believing his usually capable ears. If his brows could rise any higher, this would have been the occasion that it did.
"You provide sagely advise like Dumbledore offers lemon drop and snape hands out detention so why not use it to earn profits" Miss Granger, the ever logical brains of the group said
"what are we now? the infamous quartet?" He asked sarcastically only to be met by thoughtful looks "Nevermind don't answer that"
"Now that you mention it..."
"Merlins women and their need to label." he muttered under his breath massaging the bridge of his nose for an impending headache
"Excuse me? I find that statement highly inappropriate and the height of male chauvinism"
"No wonder you're single" He commented "70-30" He offered before she could recover. The idea did not appeal to him but he could never be called a slytherin if he allowed this Gryffindors to run the show without interference.
"You should be doing it for free since it will be in Gryffindor anyway" Mr. Weasley countered as if he would fall for that
"50-50"
"No! a quarter of the income is as much as we could spare" The know-it-all declared
"A third and nothing less or nothing"
"Shake on it"
"Gryffindors" he snorted