Scarred Souls
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
48
Views:
69,291
Reviews:
251
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Snape
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
48
Views:
69,291
Reviews:
251
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Incoming Message from the Big Giant Heads
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Title: Scarred Souls
Author: Misty Moonlight/Co-author: QueenBoadicea
Beta: QueenBoadicea
Pairings: Severus/Harry
Published: 12/10/2008
Summary: A widowed Harry must bond with Snape in order to save his daughter’s life. Sev gains a family, for better or worse, and the hearts of two scarred souls will be changed forever.
Warnings: Romance, Drama, Angst, Alternate Reality/Universe, Sexual Situations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Anal, Language, Humor, possible MPreg, Bonding, Original Characters, Family, OOC-ness,
non-canon, WIP
*****************************************************
Authors' note: A very special "Thank you" to everyone who reviewed last chapter and we hope you enjoy this one as well. Thanks for reading and reviewing our story, QueenBoadicea & Misty Moonlight.
******************************************************
Chapter 10: Incoming Message from the Big Giant Heads
The bat dove towards him but did not strike. Instead the balloon in its claws was dropped over his head. It popped open on impact and viscous, disgustingly smelly ooze dripped down into his hair.
“Blast and damn!” Severus reached up to touch his hair—a mistake, since his fingers immediately became stuck to the mess, rendering him unable to reach for his wand.
In the meantime, the bat-thing or whatever it was had swooped back up to the ceiling where it hovered, flapping its wings and smirking at him. Its mouth opened and, to his shock, it began to speak.
“My, don’t you look ugly. Then again, it’s not really a change for you, is it?” The face may have been his but the voice was decidedly different. Severus’s ears were assaulted with a buzzing whine, part insect, part high-pitched chirp, and thoroughly annoying. “You’ve got a face that could send a thestral into convulsions and those things don’t scare easily!”
“What—? Be silent, you pathetic construct. This is my home now and I’m not going to stand here and be insulted.” Easier said than done. He jerked at his feet only to find them even more solidly glued to the floor.
“Looks like you’ll have to take it, won’t you? It’s about time you heard exactly what people think of you, you bumbling, ugly, Mudblood sack of skin and bones.”
He froze. “What did you call me?” he said in a deadly whisper.
“What’s the matter? Getting hard of hearing in your old age?” The thing spoke again, this time in a stentorian voice that made Severus’s teeth rattle. “YOU BUMBLING, UGLY, MUDBLOOD…”
Rage flared, sudden and unstoppable. Wordless and wandless magic that he was rarely able to summon tore through him and flew towards his tormentor, shattering the bat-creature into oblivion.
He grinned in malicious triumph. That took care of this childish bit of pranking. When he got his hands on Potter or his devilish spawn—he was fairly sure they were responsible for this bit of stupidity—he was going to hex them with boils until they couldn’t sit down for weeks.
His victory was short lived. The air shimmered and the bat-creature popped back into existence—along with two identical constructs. Two of the creatures began talking; the third one started singing an inane song in the same awful whinging tone as the first.
“Ooh, someone’s got a temper, hasn’t he? Quite a frailty for someone who claimed wearing the emotions on the sleeves was a sign of weak people,” the bat on the left sniggered.
“This is the song that never ends…” the third head warbled, high and off key.
“That’s right, Snivellus. You always did let your rage get the better of you,” the middle one snarled.
His head snapped up. Although this bat wore the same face as the others, the voice was eerily like that of the departed Sirius Black. “Don’t talk to me,” he snarled.
“It just goes on and on, my friends…”
The first head snapped, “Oh, yeah. Talking nonstop is your department, isn’t it? Always so quick to speak and slow to think of the damage, that’s you, Snape. A gabbling tongue to go with that big nose, thin lips and teeth yellow as a canary’s ass. And you called Harry ugly! You hypocritical rat bastard.”
“Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was…”
“I object to being called a rat. I’m not Pettigrew,” he shot back with a smirk.
The second head chimed in. “Nope. You just became a Death Eater like him. How does it feel to know you became no better than the worst of the Marauders?”
Severus ground his teeth. He’d loathed seeing that shriveled, rat Animagus at every Death Eater meeting. While he’d verbally sneered at the creature, he’d never forgotten that Pettigrew had been witness to his many humiliations at the hands of Potter and Black during his school days.
The thing carried on, riding over any comment he might have made. “You’ve been painting yourself as the hero and martyr in this whole business, haven’t you? According to you, Harry wouldn’t have made it through his time in Hogwarts alive if it weren’t for your help.”
Ah, he understood now. These flying cursed objects were all Potter’s doing. If Potter could hear through these things, he would give the brat an earful. “That is correct! Dumbledore and the others were perfectly willing to let him get away with any foolishness he wanted. But he needed protecting and that is what I provided, often at the risk of my own skin.”
“This is the song that never ends…”
“For Lily’s sake,” the thing sneered.
“Just so. That brat didn’t deserve my attention but I did what I had to—for her.”
“To atone for getting her killed.”
He didn’t flinch but the thing smiled cruelly. It swooped closer, as if scenting his sudden misery.
“You didn’t really do as good a job of protecting Harry as you’d like to think, you know.”
“I’m not listening to this. I know exactly what I did to shield that feckless child and the sacrifices I made. Look at my face and neck if you don’t believe me!” It was ridiculous to be arguing with these things. But he couldn’t help it, venting himself in self-righteous fury against these creatures, against the world really, for the bad fortune he’d received because of the Potter brat.
“Were you with Harry when he faced off against Quirrell? That miserable toad was inhabited by Voldemort’s spirit yet Harry wasn’t saved by you but by his mother’s love—again.”
He’d learned the details of that ill-fated encounter from the Headmaster. Albus had been infuriatingly proud of the boy, as if Harry had done something magnificent when, once again, it had been his beloved Lily’s sacrifice that had rescued him. Something in Severus’s heart hardened at the thought of it and his guilt vanished.
The thing must have sensed it because it flew back up to join its brethren. “Let’s take a look at second year, shall we? Harry faced off against a basilisk. The thing bit him and he was nearly killed. Once again, where were you?”
It was true. He’d had nothing to do with that crazed adventure. But that was hardly his fault. “The boy shouldn’t have been down there in the first place. Trust an idiotic Gryffindor to charge blindly into danger.”
“The monster had his friend’s sister and future wife, Ginny, as a hostage. He had to save her. Then again, you wouldn’t know anything about saving friends, would you? You got your friend Lily killed!”
“SHUT UP!”
“What did you do to save her after you set the Dark Lord on her like a mad dog? You went running to Dumbledore! You begged him to help! You couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger to rescue your only friend at the time. Oh no, not you, the cowardly Slytherin!”
“Don’t call me—”
“And now they’ll go on singing it forever just because…”
“You were willing to let her husband and only child die just so long as she could be saved. You are a loathsome, vile, pathetic, worthless, crawling piece of slime, unfit to be joined with Lily’s child.”
“Don’t forget whey-faced, scrawny and paler than an Inferius,” the first head grated. Evidently it was its job to detail Severus’s physical deformities while the second went over his list of failures and errors.
“Moving right along. Let’s talk about Harry’s third year in Hogwarts, shall we? He was nearly eaten alive—”
“—Yes, by that dangerous, feral Gryffindor Lupin. I would have saved him from that if that stupid boy and his two mindless sidekicks hadn’t ambushed me with their pusillanimous tactics.”
“Saved him? You were there for revenge, Snivellus! That’s what you said, so don’t deny it. If you’d wanted to help Remus, you would have brought him his Wolfsbane potion not tied him up like a hog!”
“He was aiding and abetting that mongrel Black, a known criminal! He deserved to be restrained until the proper authorities could be summoned.”
“And given the Dementor’s kiss as well?”
Severus’s lips thinned. “I was proceeding on the facts of the case as it stood,” he gritted.
“You were out for revenge and you didn’t care who got hurt. You wouldn’t even listen to Black as Harry wanted you to.”
“I don’t make a habit of doing anything that Gryffindors tell me to do!”
“Unless they’re long-bearded old men you’re going to kill.”
He would have staggered at that if his feet hadn’t been pinned so effectively to the floor.
The head grinned, exposing the yellow teeth. “Fourth year. Harry’s name was thrown into the Goblet of Fire. He was subjected to tests far too dire for someone of his age. You did nothing to protect him from the trials.”
“I was deceived by another Death Eater,” Severus began.
“Not as smart as you thought you were, huh? When Harry was restrained and his blood drawn in that cemetery, where were you? All the other Death Eaters were summoned but you were nowhere around. Voldemort was brought back, a student was murdered, Harry was nearly killed and you did NOTHING to prevent it!”
He was hanged if he’d suffer any more of this. “POTTER!” he bellowed. Where the devil was that husband of his?
“He can’t hear you, you blowhard. There’s a Silencing Charm around his room to help his daughter sleep. You’d have known that if you asked, beakface,” yawned the first head.
“What happened fifth year? Oh, yes. You got infuriated because Harry had spied on your Pensieve memory and barred him from learning Occlumency. Voldemort was able to invade his mind because you didn’t do your job.”
Severus bared his teeth. “Am I to blame for his ineptitude as a student? Potter was always a fool who couldn’t learn the simplest things.”
“No thanks to you. You didn’t want to teach him and got rid of him at the first opportunity. So he rushed off to save Sirius and watched the man die instead.”
“Good riddance, I say.” Severus shrugged, showing how little he cared about the mongrel’s fate.
“Right. Nothing like getting Gryffindors killed to put a smile on that sallow, hangdog, colorless mug of yours,” number one threw at him.
The second dove at him, its face twisted in a rictus of fury. “You’d think that knowing all of them were dead would make you happy—Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew, Lily, Albus—but not you. You have to carry your grudge to the next generation, don’t you? And now Harry’s poor children are getting threatened by you.”
“They’ll get more than that once I’m free!” he promised in a basso growl.
“What did it feel like?” the second bat asked, its voice gone deceptively soft.
“What?”
“What did it feel like to kill Dumbledore?”
It was like an icy claw had seized his heart. There was no way he was answering that charge. But the memory, never far from his mind, unspooled like a vial of water spilling across the floor.
The old man, shrunken, his face oddly grey and withered, pleading with him.
“Severus. Please.”
They had arranged it in advance; Dumbledore was going to die anyway, thanks to his moronic donning of that ring. His death now would have meaning, sparing Severus’s godson from the weight of his murder.
Severus hadn’t flinched or wavered, knowing there were Death Eaters at his back waiting to pounce if they sensed weakness.
“You have to mean the Killing Curse for it to work,” the second bat hissed. “So what were you thinking to put you in the mood, so to speak? How often you resented supposedly helping Harry because of Albus’s orders? All those Death Eater meetings you had to attend, when you didn’t know whether Voldemort would question you or torture you? Did you think about how Lily wasn’t saved, even after you begged the old man for help?”
He pressed his trapped hands hard over his hair to smother the voices. But they continued, loud and relentless. He yanked his feet, trying to pull them free of his boots, hoping to escape that way. But the tight lacings held him captive as surely as the ooze on the floor.
“Were you proud of being the one to kill Dumbledore? After all, not even Voldemort had managed that. I’ll bet it made you really popular at all the Death Eater gatherings. Did you tell your partners in crime all about it?”
Merlin, it had hurt to carry out that wretched scheme. And it had been easy to transform hurt into anger—he’d been practicing that since learning Lily had turned to that imbecile James Potter.
Anger that he was placed in the position of being Dumbledore’s murderer. Anger that he had to save Draco from his ill-considered secrecy. Anger that he had to kill, that he’d failed, once again, to save a beloved friend.
Sod it. Gritting his teeth, he wrenched his hands free. Several strands came with the pull, causing him to grunt from the pain of hairs being ripped out by the roots. Ignoring the ghastly look of his palms covered with bits of his own hair, he reached for his wand and cast the spell to loosen the laces of his boots.
When he pointed his wand at the hovering heads, the middle one’s lips twisted in a hideous parody of his own sneer. “If you’re thinking of casting Finite Incantatem, don’t. There’ll be six of us.”
Severus hesitated. He had no way of telling if the constructs were telling the truth. But he’d already made an error. Best simply to go to the source and have the pernicious Potter deal with them. He managed to stagger free, avoiding the puddle of glue adhering to the floor, and bolted for the staircase.
The bat-things were not deterred. The pernicious trio flew after him, their imprecations, insults, accusations and insane twitterings dogging him with each step.
“POTTER!” he roared again, charging towards his bond mate’s quarters.
He bounced back as he collided with an invisible barrier. The impact was so strong that he was knocked flat on his bum.
The heads seemed to find that vastly amusing. All three broke off their verbal abuse to cackle like hyenas.
It was the last straw. He pointed his wand at the barrier and channeled all his power at it while yelling the spell to force it down. There was a satisfying “pop” and the barrier vanished.
He strode through it, the bats following him and renewing their barrage until he came to Potter’s door. He banged on it ferociously and then wondered why he should bother. He waved his wand, preparing to force the door, when it swung open of its own accord.
Potter stood there, wand in hand, blinking at him. His hair was a scraggly mess, as usual, but Severus was startled into silence by the sight of bare expanse of lightly muscled chest that met his stunned gaze. The green-eyed man was clad in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms that hung dangerously low on his lean hips. A faint fuzz of dark brown hair spread across flat nipples and trailed in an enticing path down to the top of his pants. Sweet Merlin, when had Potter turned into such a good-looking youth?
“Snape? What is it?” He held up his hand. “Please be quiet. I don’t want to wake up Lily.”
Potter’s request brought him back to his senses. Furious at being caught staring, he pointed at the trio hovering over his shoulders. “Potter, I demand that you get rid of these things right now!” he spat.
The man peered over his shoulder. “Get rid of what?”
Severus sneered. “Don’t play stupid with me, Potter. Ah, I forget. It’s not an act with you, is it?”
Potter sighed. “Snape, you’re being more of a git than usual. State your business and then leave, all right? I’m not in the mood to put up with your nonsense.”
“MY nonsense? Your miserable spawn sic these ridiculous constructs on me and you dare to speak of my nonsense?”
“What constructs?”
“Those!” He pointed again.
“This is sad, Snivellus. You know that, right? Going to Harry of all people for help.” The second head sniggered unpleasantly.
The whelp looked over his shoulder again and shrugged uneasily. “I’m sorry, Snape. I don’t see what you’re talking about.”
Severus was about to point again. Then he considered. Potter had never been able to lie to him in the past and he was certain about his veracity now. Potter truly couldn’t see the things and his blank stare meant he couldn’t hear them either.
“Well, this must be something your nasty misbegotten little brats have gotten up to,” he groused. “Just look at this!” He held up one of his hands and Potter’s mouth dropped open in a look of imbecilic confusion.
“Merlin’s beard. Is that…? Why are your hands covered with—hair?”
“That’s what I’m trying to explain to you, you half-wit! Your spawn cast some kind of spell on me! First, my boots got stuck to the floor in the foyer and then some noxious glue was dropped on me from above, completely coating my hair!”
“And that’s how you got the hair on your hands?”
“Nothing gets past you, does it, Potter?” he sneered. “Now come downstairs and see the glue if you don’t believe me!”
Potter held up his hands in a placating manner. “All right, all right. No need to get shirty. I’ll just get a robe. I’ll join you in a tick.”
Severus stood in front of the door, fuming. His bond mate had left it ajar but he had no desire to step across the threshold. The insides of Potter’s quarters were of no interest to him.
Potter came back in a short green robe that just reached his knees, hiding that magnificent chest. Severus whirled away abruptly when he realized his sudden distress for what it was—disappointment at having that view covered from him. He strode with unnecessary speed back to the barrier and gestured ironically for Potter to proceed.
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The green-eyed man stood staring down at the floor. It was completely bare, no sign of any glue anywhere. Snape’s boots were there, all right, but nothing held them to the floor. “Um, Snape. There’s nothing here.”
Severus ground his teeth together. “I’m telling you, Potter, the glue was there. How else do you think it got in my hair and on my hands?” He waved the hairy digits in Potter’s direction and was meanly gratified to see the man flinch.
“I believe you, Snape. At least the glue in the hall is gone. Let’s do something about you, shall we?” Potter waved his wand at Severus’s hair and hands and uttered the Cleaning Charm.
The hairs did not vanish. Instead the ones on his palms immediately turned a vivid, chemical pink. Severus paled and he didn’t have to hear Potter’s choked-off gasp to know the hairs on his head were a matching shade.
“I will kill the little beasts,” he said with eerie calm.
TBC
Title: Scarred Souls
Author: Misty Moonlight/Co-author: QueenBoadicea
Beta: QueenBoadicea
Pairings: Severus/Harry
Published: 12/10/2008
Summary: A widowed Harry must bond with Snape in order to save his daughter’s life. Sev gains a family, for better or worse, and the hearts of two scarred souls will be changed forever.
Warnings: Romance, Drama, Angst, Alternate Reality/Universe, Sexual Situations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Anal, Language, Humor, possible MPreg, Bonding, Original Characters, Family, OOC-ness,
non-canon, WIP
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Authors' note: A very special "Thank you" to everyone who reviewed last chapter and we hope you enjoy this one as well. Thanks for reading and reviewing our story, QueenBoadicea & Misty Moonlight.
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Chapter 10: Incoming Message from the Big Giant Heads
The bat dove towards him but did not strike. Instead the balloon in its claws was dropped over his head. It popped open on impact and viscous, disgustingly smelly ooze dripped down into his hair.
“Blast and damn!” Severus reached up to touch his hair—a mistake, since his fingers immediately became stuck to the mess, rendering him unable to reach for his wand.
In the meantime, the bat-thing or whatever it was had swooped back up to the ceiling where it hovered, flapping its wings and smirking at him. Its mouth opened and, to his shock, it began to speak.
“My, don’t you look ugly. Then again, it’s not really a change for you, is it?” The face may have been his but the voice was decidedly different. Severus’s ears were assaulted with a buzzing whine, part insect, part high-pitched chirp, and thoroughly annoying. “You’ve got a face that could send a thestral into convulsions and those things don’t scare easily!”
“What—? Be silent, you pathetic construct. This is my home now and I’m not going to stand here and be insulted.” Easier said than done. He jerked at his feet only to find them even more solidly glued to the floor.
“Looks like you’ll have to take it, won’t you? It’s about time you heard exactly what people think of you, you bumbling, ugly, Mudblood sack of skin and bones.”
He froze. “What did you call me?” he said in a deadly whisper.
“What’s the matter? Getting hard of hearing in your old age?” The thing spoke again, this time in a stentorian voice that made Severus’s teeth rattle. “YOU BUMBLING, UGLY, MUDBLOOD…”
Rage flared, sudden and unstoppable. Wordless and wandless magic that he was rarely able to summon tore through him and flew towards his tormentor, shattering the bat-creature into oblivion.
He grinned in malicious triumph. That took care of this childish bit of pranking. When he got his hands on Potter or his devilish spawn—he was fairly sure they were responsible for this bit of stupidity—he was going to hex them with boils until they couldn’t sit down for weeks.
His victory was short lived. The air shimmered and the bat-creature popped back into existence—along with two identical constructs. Two of the creatures began talking; the third one started singing an inane song in the same awful whinging tone as the first.
“Ooh, someone’s got a temper, hasn’t he? Quite a frailty for someone who claimed wearing the emotions on the sleeves was a sign of weak people,” the bat on the left sniggered.
“This is the song that never ends…” the third head warbled, high and off key.
“That’s right, Snivellus. You always did let your rage get the better of you,” the middle one snarled.
His head snapped up. Although this bat wore the same face as the others, the voice was eerily like that of the departed Sirius Black. “Don’t talk to me,” he snarled.
“It just goes on and on, my friends…”
The first head snapped, “Oh, yeah. Talking nonstop is your department, isn’t it? Always so quick to speak and slow to think of the damage, that’s you, Snape. A gabbling tongue to go with that big nose, thin lips and teeth yellow as a canary’s ass. And you called Harry ugly! You hypocritical rat bastard.”
“Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was…”
“I object to being called a rat. I’m not Pettigrew,” he shot back with a smirk.
The second head chimed in. “Nope. You just became a Death Eater like him. How does it feel to know you became no better than the worst of the Marauders?”
Severus ground his teeth. He’d loathed seeing that shriveled, rat Animagus at every Death Eater meeting. While he’d verbally sneered at the creature, he’d never forgotten that Pettigrew had been witness to his many humiliations at the hands of Potter and Black during his school days.
The thing carried on, riding over any comment he might have made. “You’ve been painting yourself as the hero and martyr in this whole business, haven’t you? According to you, Harry wouldn’t have made it through his time in Hogwarts alive if it weren’t for your help.”
Ah, he understood now. These flying cursed objects were all Potter’s doing. If Potter could hear through these things, he would give the brat an earful. “That is correct! Dumbledore and the others were perfectly willing to let him get away with any foolishness he wanted. But he needed protecting and that is what I provided, often at the risk of my own skin.”
“This is the song that never ends…”
“For Lily’s sake,” the thing sneered.
“Just so. That brat didn’t deserve my attention but I did what I had to—for her.”
“To atone for getting her killed.”
He didn’t flinch but the thing smiled cruelly. It swooped closer, as if scenting his sudden misery.
“You didn’t really do as good a job of protecting Harry as you’d like to think, you know.”
“I’m not listening to this. I know exactly what I did to shield that feckless child and the sacrifices I made. Look at my face and neck if you don’t believe me!” It was ridiculous to be arguing with these things. But he couldn’t help it, venting himself in self-righteous fury against these creatures, against the world really, for the bad fortune he’d received because of the Potter brat.
“Were you with Harry when he faced off against Quirrell? That miserable toad was inhabited by Voldemort’s spirit yet Harry wasn’t saved by you but by his mother’s love—again.”
He’d learned the details of that ill-fated encounter from the Headmaster. Albus had been infuriatingly proud of the boy, as if Harry had done something magnificent when, once again, it had been his beloved Lily’s sacrifice that had rescued him. Something in Severus’s heart hardened at the thought of it and his guilt vanished.
The thing must have sensed it because it flew back up to join its brethren. “Let’s take a look at second year, shall we? Harry faced off against a basilisk. The thing bit him and he was nearly killed. Once again, where were you?”
It was true. He’d had nothing to do with that crazed adventure. But that was hardly his fault. “The boy shouldn’t have been down there in the first place. Trust an idiotic Gryffindor to charge blindly into danger.”
“The monster had his friend’s sister and future wife, Ginny, as a hostage. He had to save her. Then again, you wouldn’t know anything about saving friends, would you? You got your friend Lily killed!”
“SHUT UP!”
“What did you do to save her after you set the Dark Lord on her like a mad dog? You went running to Dumbledore! You begged him to help! You couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger to rescue your only friend at the time. Oh no, not you, the cowardly Slytherin!”
“Don’t call me—”
“And now they’ll go on singing it forever just because…”
“You were willing to let her husband and only child die just so long as she could be saved. You are a loathsome, vile, pathetic, worthless, crawling piece of slime, unfit to be joined with Lily’s child.”
“Don’t forget whey-faced, scrawny and paler than an Inferius,” the first head grated. Evidently it was its job to detail Severus’s physical deformities while the second went over his list of failures and errors.
“Moving right along. Let’s talk about Harry’s third year in Hogwarts, shall we? He was nearly eaten alive—”
“—Yes, by that dangerous, feral Gryffindor Lupin. I would have saved him from that if that stupid boy and his two mindless sidekicks hadn’t ambushed me with their pusillanimous tactics.”
“Saved him? You were there for revenge, Snivellus! That’s what you said, so don’t deny it. If you’d wanted to help Remus, you would have brought him his Wolfsbane potion not tied him up like a hog!”
“He was aiding and abetting that mongrel Black, a known criminal! He deserved to be restrained until the proper authorities could be summoned.”
“And given the Dementor’s kiss as well?”
Severus’s lips thinned. “I was proceeding on the facts of the case as it stood,” he gritted.
“You were out for revenge and you didn’t care who got hurt. You wouldn’t even listen to Black as Harry wanted you to.”
“I don’t make a habit of doing anything that Gryffindors tell me to do!”
“Unless they’re long-bearded old men you’re going to kill.”
He would have staggered at that if his feet hadn’t been pinned so effectively to the floor.
The head grinned, exposing the yellow teeth. “Fourth year. Harry’s name was thrown into the Goblet of Fire. He was subjected to tests far too dire for someone of his age. You did nothing to protect him from the trials.”
“I was deceived by another Death Eater,” Severus began.
“Not as smart as you thought you were, huh? When Harry was restrained and his blood drawn in that cemetery, where were you? All the other Death Eaters were summoned but you were nowhere around. Voldemort was brought back, a student was murdered, Harry was nearly killed and you did NOTHING to prevent it!”
He was hanged if he’d suffer any more of this. “POTTER!” he bellowed. Where the devil was that husband of his?
“He can’t hear you, you blowhard. There’s a Silencing Charm around his room to help his daughter sleep. You’d have known that if you asked, beakface,” yawned the first head.
“What happened fifth year? Oh, yes. You got infuriated because Harry had spied on your Pensieve memory and barred him from learning Occlumency. Voldemort was able to invade his mind because you didn’t do your job.”
Severus bared his teeth. “Am I to blame for his ineptitude as a student? Potter was always a fool who couldn’t learn the simplest things.”
“No thanks to you. You didn’t want to teach him and got rid of him at the first opportunity. So he rushed off to save Sirius and watched the man die instead.”
“Good riddance, I say.” Severus shrugged, showing how little he cared about the mongrel’s fate.
“Right. Nothing like getting Gryffindors killed to put a smile on that sallow, hangdog, colorless mug of yours,” number one threw at him.
The second dove at him, its face twisted in a rictus of fury. “You’d think that knowing all of them were dead would make you happy—Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew, Lily, Albus—but not you. You have to carry your grudge to the next generation, don’t you? And now Harry’s poor children are getting threatened by you.”
“They’ll get more than that once I’m free!” he promised in a basso growl.
“What did it feel like?” the second bat asked, its voice gone deceptively soft.
“What?”
“What did it feel like to kill Dumbledore?”
It was like an icy claw had seized his heart. There was no way he was answering that charge. But the memory, never far from his mind, unspooled like a vial of water spilling across the floor.
The old man, shrunken, his face oddly grey and withered, pleading with him.
“Severus. Please.”
They had arranged it in advance; Dumbledore was going to die anyway, thanks to his moronic donning of that ring. His death now would have meaning, sparing Severus’s godson from the weight of his murder.
Severus hadn’t flinched or wavered, knowing there were Death Eaters at his back waiting to pounce if they sensed weakness.
“You have to mean the Killing Curse for it to work,” the second bat hissed. “So what were you thinking to put you in the mood, so to speak? How often you resented supposedly helping Harry because of Albus’s orders? All those Death Eater meetings you had to attend, when you didn’t know whether Voldemort would question you or torture you? Did you think about how Lily wasn’t saved, even after you begged the old man for help?”
He pressed his trapped hands hard over his hair to smother the voices. But they continued, loud and relentless. He yanked his feet, trying to pull them free of his boots, hoping to escape that way. But the tight lacings held him captive as surely as the ooze on the floor.
“Were you proud of being the one to kill Dumbledore? After all, not even Voldemort had managed that. I’ll bet it made you really popular at all the Death Eater gatherings. Did you tell your partners in crime all about it?”
Merlin, it had hurt to carry out that wretched scheme. And it had been easy to transform hurt into anger—he’d been practicing that since learning Lily had turned to that imbecile James Potter.
Anger that he was placed in the position of being Dumbledore’s murderer. Anger that he had to save Draco from his ill-considered secrecy. Anger that he had to kill, that he’d failed, once again, to save a beloved friend.
Sod it. Gritting his teeth, he wrenched his hands free. Several strands came with the pull, causing him to grunt from the pain of hairs being ripped out by the roots. Ignoring the ghastly look of his palms covered with bits of his own hair, he reached for his wand and cast the spell to loosen the laces of his boots.
When he pointed his wand at the hovering heads, the middle one’s lips twisted in a hideous parody of his own sneer. “If you’re thinking of casting Finite Incantatem, don’t. There’ll be six of us.”
Severus hesitated. He had no way of telling if the constructs were telling the truth. But he’d already made an error. Best simply to go to the source and have the pernicious Potter deal with them. He managed to stagger free, avoiding the puddle of glue adhering to the floor, and bolted for the staircase.
The bat-things were not deterred. The pernicious trio flew after him, their imprecations, insults, accusations and insane twitterings dogging him with each step.
“POTTER!” he roared again, charging towards his bond mate’s quarters.
He bounced back as he collided with an invisible barrier. The impact was so strong that he was knocked flat on his bum.
The heads seemed to find that vastly amusing. All three broke off their verbal abuse to cackle like hyenas.
It was the last straw. He pointed his wand at the barrier and channeled all his power at it while yelling the spell to force it down. There was a satisfying “pop” and the barrier vanished.
He strode through it, the bats following him and renewing their barrage until he came to Potter’s door. He banged on it ferociously and then wondered why he should bother. He waved his wand, preparing to force the door, when it swung open of its own accord.
Potter stood there, wand in hand, blinking at him. His hair was a scraggly mess, as usual, but Severus was startled into silence by the sight of bare expanse of lightly muscled chest that met his stunned gaze. The green-eyed man was clad in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms that hung dangerously low on his lean hips. A faint fuzz of dark brown hair spread across flat nipples and trailed in an enticing path down to the top of his pants. Sweet Merlin, when had Potter turned into such a good-looking youth?
“Snape? What is it?” He held up his hand. “Please be quiet. I don’t want to wake up Lily.”
Potter’s request brought him back to his senses. Furious at being caught staring, he pointed at the trio hovering over his shoulders. “Potter, I demand that you get rid of these things right now!” he spat.
The man peered over his shoulder. “Get rid of what?”
Severus sneered. “Don’t play stupid with me, Potter. Ah, I forget. It’s not an act with you, is it?”
Potter sighed. “Snape, you’re being more of a git than usual. State your business and then leave, all right? I’m not in the mood to put up with your nonsense.”
“MY nonsense? Your miserable spawn sic these ridiculous constructs on me and you dare to speak of my nonsense?”
“What constructs?”
“Those!” He pointed again.
“This is sad, Snivellus. You know that, right? Going to Harry of all people for help.” The second head sniggered unpleasantly.
The whelp looked over his shoulder again and shrugged uneasily. “I’m sorry, Snape. I don’t see what you’re talking about.”
Severus was about to point again. Then he considered. Potter had never been able to lie to him in the past and he was certain about his veracity now. Potter truly couldn’t see the things and his blank stare meant he couldn’t hear them either.
“Well, this must be something your nasty misbegotten little brats have gotten up to,” he groused. “Just look at this!” He held up one of his hands and Potter’s mouth dropped open in a look of imbecilic confusion.
“Merlin’s beard. Is that…? Why are your hands covered with—hair?”
“That’s what I’m trying to explain to you, you half-wit! Your spawn cast some kind of spell on me! First, my boots got stuck to the floor in the foyer and then some noxious glue was dropped on me from above, completely coating my hair!”
“And that’s how you got the hair on your hands?”
“Nothing gets past you, does it, Potter?” he sneered. “Now come downstairs and see the glue if you don’t believe me!”
Potter held up his hands in a placating manner. “All right, all right. No need to get shirty. I’ll just get a robe. I’ll join you in a tick.”
Severus stood in front of the door, fuming. His bond mate had left it ajar but he had no desire to step across the threshold. The insides of Potter’s quarters were of no interest to him.
Potter came back in a short green robe that just reached his knees, hiding that magnificent chest. Severus whirled away abruptly when he realized his sudden distress for what it was—disappointment at having that view covered from him. He strode with unnecessary speed back to the barrier and gestured ironically for Potter to proceed.
********************************************************************
The green-eyed man stood staring down at the floor. It was completely bare, no sign of any glue anywhere. Snape’s boots were there, all right, but nothing held them to the floor. “Um, Snape. There’s nothing here.”
Severus ground his teeth together. “I’m telling you, Potter, the glue was there. How else do you think it got in my hair and on my hands?” He waved the hairy digits in Potter’s direction and was meanly gratified to see the man flinch.
“I believe you, Snape. At least the glue in the hall is gone. Let’s do something about you, shall we?” Potter waved his wand at Severus’s hair and hands and uttered the Cleaning Charm.
The hairs did not vanish. Instead the ones on his palms immediately turned a vivid, chemical pink. Severus paled and he didn’t have to hear Potter’s choked-off gasp to know the hairs on his head were a matching shade.
“I will kill the little beasts,” he said with eerie calm.
TBC