Devils and Angels

And I Talked to Myself


He had ceased speaking fairly soon afterwards. It was as if some spark had sputtered, then gone out in his soul. He went through the motions of survival, and that was just about it, and the only one that did the talking was Draco Malfoy. Even that had long ago gotten to be a bit much for Snape, since all the blond wizard ever seemed to do was jabber from the moment his eyes opened, until they shut once more at night. It was galling for Malfoy to live as they were, but Snape was fairly used to existing in this manner. His father had been a muggle, albeit a cruel one, and no magic was allowed as he was growing up so he was used to having to do things the difficult way. He was even used to having to keep his mouth shut, even though this time it was self-imposed.

The only times he ever uttered a sound was when he would wake in the middle of the night as he tried to lift himself from the depths of yet another nightmare that threatened to engulf him. He would jerk wide awake covered with a sheen of sweat, gasp, and then bolt from the hard pallet he slept upon, and would mutter something vague and indistinct as he would prowl the old shack for hours until he became exhausted. Then, fearing another battle with the demons from his dreams, he would sit reading by candlelight a nearly ancient tome on potions as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

It was on such a night that Draco rose from his own pallet and dressed in his dirty and tattered robes. He stood before Snape as the man continued to read with bleary eyes.

“Don’t you even care about anything anymore?” Draco asked as his eyes took in the dimly lit surroundings, and found once more how revolting they were.

Snape answered by shifting slightly and leaning closer to the candle as he continued to read.

“You’ve let him win,” Draco stated, trying to get a reaction other than silence.

The former Potions Master frowned, yet never tore his eyes from the book as he turned the page. The old parchment crinkled loudly in the quiet that hung heavily in the stagnant air.

“Don’t you ever want to leave this hovel? Don’t you want your life back?” The young wizard continued to press forward determined more than ever not to let go of the subject.

The older man carefully placed a scrap of parchment to mark his place, and silently set the old manuscript aside. He rose, and all but rushed to his pile of blankets. He lay down then presented his back to the younger wizard, and pulled the stinking rags that passed for bedding over his head.

Seeing that Snape was clearly avoiding the issue, and Draco, with a mocking sneer in his voice, certainly wasn’t going to allow it pass this time as he needled the older wizard, “You’re not the man I thought you were after all.”

Malfoy saw the body under the dirty pile stiffen at that last remark, and he waited for the explosion he knew would come, but he wasn’t quite prepared for the form it took. Seconds later, Snape burst from underneath filthy hole-riddled blankets and in but a few long strides, quickly crossed the room. Wrapping his fists into Draco’s robes, he pulled him near until they were almost nose-to-nose.

“You know nothing of me boy – absolutely nothing!” Snape’s voice was gravely from lack of use, and snarling with disgust, he flung the startled young man back. “You and your pure-blooded lot couldn’t even begin to conceive what I have went through.”

Running his hands through his now truly greasy hair, he turned his back, and began pacing back and forth, speaking more to himself than to the other occupant of the room. “My first memory was the back of my father’s hand. I don’t even recall my mother smiling. He beat her for the least of things, and I don’t even know why she never defended herself – she was a witch…” Snape’s voice trailed off then he continued.

“She cried nearly every night after she put me to bed, and I didn’t – it wasn’t until I was older that I knew he took her against her will,” he stopped and stared for a moment.

“I remember being always hungry – always wearing patches upon patches. He would come home; eat his fill while I had to wait until he was done. Many times he would eat and then declare it slop, and the rest would wind up in the bin. It’s hard to sleep when you’re a hungry child – a most difficult task to do.”

“He broke my nose when I was nine,” Snape unconsciously reached up and touched his nose as if reliving the event. “Mother defended me that time, and she paid dearly for it. He made sure of it.”

“They came for me when it was time for school – actually Dumbledore came for me. Tobias Snape didn’t want to let me go just to spite Mother, but Albus had his way – Albus always had his way. I’m sure she was punished for that as well.”

“I didn’t even know how to act when I got there,” he snorted at the memory. “I was about as socialized as a piece of furniture. The other children quickly realized that, and they took advantage of it for all it was worth. Never a day went by that I wasn’t the butt of someone’s joke or prank.”

He turned to stare at Draco, or rather through him. Malfoy returned that stare with wide eyes. Never had he thought the dour man would have revealed so much about himself, but then again, the young wizard never thought he would be living on the fringes of society, much less a muggle one. Not sure as to whether he should speak or not, Malfoy decided caution would be the better route and remained quiet. Snape’s next words sharply broke the silence, causing Draco to flinch, and shock him even further.

“The summer after my first term, my father decided it would give him perverse pleasure to force me to do illegal magic for his gain even though he forbid Mother to use it. She refused to allow it, and the next thing I knew, I was locked in the closet. I had to listen to him abuse her – I still hear her screams.”

“Why didn’t you use your wand? You could have hexed him – it would have been nothing but defence,” Draco blurted out as he remembered his own mother and how much he missed her, and then immediately bit his lip thinking Snape would become wrathful once more.

Instead, the older wizard answered quietly finally acknowledging Draco’s presence, “I couldn’t – Mother told me not to… I loved her too much not to disobey her, but apparently I didn’t love her enough to spare her the hell she lived in.”

Wearily settling back into the chair, his eyes unfocused as he regressed back into his memories. “She died in my second year. I was told she had become ill, but I never believed it, and from that time forward, I stayed at the castle – I never went home. Hogwarts became my home in spite of Potter and his gang. Sirius Black lured me to the Shrieking Shack while Lupin was transforming during the full moon. Potter saved me from certain death only because of the inconvenience it would cause him with being expelled. He certainly hated me enough to cast Levious Corpus on me in front of the entire school, and in those days, it was quite common to wear robes instead of a school uniform, and all got a good look at me and my unfortunate appearance.”

“Lily was the only one who defended me, and he let me down none too gracefully. He only did it because he wanted her, but I loved her from that time on – she was my only friend until that horrible day; then she never spoke to me again.”

Feeling more brave since he had not been attacked since his first outburst, Draco asked, “Why?”

Snape looked over at him then said simply, “She couldn’t stand the thought of whom my lover was, and in fact you probably would be appalled to know exactly who that was.”

After a moment, Malfoy’s cheeks burned a bright crimson as realization crept in, then collecting himself, Draco said laconically, “I thought you would have had better taste.”

Snape stared at him for a long second, finally his lips twitched as he replied, “Obviously I didn’t.”

“May I ask you a personal question?”

“You might as well since I foolishly told you nearly everything of my personal life.”

“When did you find out you were gay?”

Snape’s brows shot up at that. “I believe I was sixteen when I first began to notice things were different with me.”

“What things?”

“That’s two questions – not one.”

“So hex me.”

Smirking, Snape answered, “For one, when there was talk about certain physical attributes of some of the more attractive girls, I was never intrigued – nor was I aroused.”

They talked until dawn, and Draco was glad he had decided to push Snape’s buttons. Now that he had managed to puncture Snape’s emotional barricade, perhaps they would be able to figure a way out of the seemingly hopeless situation they were in.

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Yes, another chapter... finally! So sorry about the extended delay, but some of the professional pressure is beginning to let up, and my muse has saw fit to return to grace me with more words to fill the pages with.

~~~Potions Mistress~~~