Smoke & Mirrors

Disclaimer The characters and sheer genius belong to J K Rowling. Any smut is mine, but I don't make a penny/eurocent/cent from my warped imagination.

Chapter 20 Long Shadows
Harry sat at the table, poring over Snape's scroll. It was very quiet in the flat. Ron had not been back all night; Hermione was still at Hogwarts, and the twins had just gone downstairs to attend to their shop. As he read he couldn't help smiling to himself from time to time. It was a big relief to know it must have been research into Memory Melding – not an antidote to the Essences potion as Malfoy had spitefully suggested – which had kept his lover at Durmstrang for so long. But at the same time, he DID feel a bit hurt that Snape hadn't confided in him about it...

He stretched and yawned, then returned to the scroll. Most of it was far beyond him, of course, in spite of Snape's explanatory scribblings, but he could see the fascination of work like this. It was no wonder that Severus had been so absorbed in it lately.

There was a thundering of feet on the stairs and George burst in, waving a slip of parchment. "Hey, Harry, can't stay long – but I thought you'd like to see this." He handed the note to Harry. "A house-elf from Vix's Vices just came into the shop; he wanted to know if we could supply them with this stuff. He said it's for an experimental lust potion, but I'm sure I recognised some of these ingredients, what do you reckon?"

Harry stared at the parchment. "Yeah, most of these are in here, too," tapping the Memory Melding scroll. "What did you tell him?"

"Said we were busy right now but we'd take a look through our store cupboard and get back to them ASAP," George said. "Anyway, it tells us Snape is at Vix's, don't you think?"

"Right," Harry said, thinking hard. "It tells us something else, too, I'd say."

"Yeah?" George raised his eyebrows.

"It can't be a coincidence he's sent this request NOW, the day after Ron was at Vix's, can it? He must've seen Ron, known he was there, anyway... and he's trying to tell us something, hoping we can help?"

"Maybe," George didn't sound convinced. Privately he thought this was just wishful thinking on Harry's part. But then again, Harry knew Snape better than any of them; he could be right. George shrugged. "I'll leave the list with you, I've got to get back to the shop." And he disappeared, muttering happily about the Christmas rush.

The flat seemed quieter than ever when George had gone. Harry compared the request on the slip of parchment to the ingredients listed in the scroll; they were mostly the same. He propped his head on his hand and stared unseeingly out of the window, thinking about Severus. Every so often he glanced down at his lover's cramped, tiny handwriting in the margins of the scroll.

As the short winter's day came to a close and shadows lengthened in the upstairs flat, he found himself thinking more and more about Snape's lifelong fascination with the Dark Arts – would he really go on to teach them at Durmstrang? And if he did, would he, Harry be allowed to go with him? Would he want to go with him?

He was sitting in the twilight feeling rather melancholy when the twins burst in, chattering happily and carrying delicious-smelling cartons of hot food. They were followed by a rather hangdog Ron.

"We popped over to a Muggle Chinese takeaway," Fred said, dumping his share of the cartons on the table and waving his wand to light the lamps.

"And look who followed us home," George said, adding his cartons to Fred's and accioing crockery onto the table. "Reckon he smelt the food."

"A Muggle takeaway?" Harry asked. Then, seeing Ron's face, he added, "You okay, mate?"

Ron nodded, and threw himself moodily into an armchair.

Fred winked. "We often go to the Golden Dragon. George fancies the girl on the counter. Only problem is, he spends so long chatting her up the food's cooled down by the time we leave." He pointed his wand at the cartons piled haphazardly on the table. They bubbled and hissed as their contents heated up.

George began to dole out the food while Fred accio'd bottles of extra-strong Butterbeer from a crate in the corner and removed their caps with a flick of his wand. Soon they were all tucking into fragrantly steaming portions of Chinese food and happily gulping bottle after bottle of Butterbeer.

By the end of the meal Ron was looking a lot more cheerful. He broke open a fortune cookie and pulled out the narrow slip of paper.

"Beware of over-friendly strangers," he read out.

"I've heard Sybill Trelawney writes these now," said Harry, trying to keep a straight face. The twins, however, were roaring with laughter.

"You read that wrong, Ron – "

"– yeah, should be, beware of coming over friendly strangers –"

"– or strangely frienders, even..."

Ron scowled.

"Oh well," Fred said, hoisting himself up from his chair, "Enough of this frivolity. Guess we'd better go through those stock lists, George, see if there's anything more we need to get in before Christmas; there's not much time left."

The twins went over to a roll-top desk in the corner and pulled out rolls of parchment and a quill. Harry moved next to Ron and looked at him seriously. "Uh, Ron, I don't want to be nosey or anything," he began. "And don't tell me anything you'd rather not. But the more I know about Vix the better when it comes to questioning Kreacher."

"I didn't actually meet Vix," Ron said. "But everyone seemed scared of him. And they have serious security at his place. There are a couple of security trolls as you go in; and they make you leave your wand with the boy at reception. Oh, and he checks you over with a Secrecy Sensor, too."

"Like the one old Filch had?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, only he wasn't as – SUGGESTIVE – with his," Ron said morosely.

"Er, right," Harry said, trying not to laugh. "Anything else?"

"Well, I already told you one of the boys – Jason – said they had their own apothecary. And the other one shut him up."

"There were two of them, then?" Harry asked. It was a whole new light on his friend. "Um, did the chatty one – er, Jason, did he say anything else? Anything useful?"

"No, I don't – oh, hang on, yeah. Sounds like they get, uh, customers from the Ministry of Magic." Ron turned bright red. "He said I wasn't like them," he finished weakly. Harry stared at him, trying to visualise Ron in a gay brothel, and failing utterly.

They were interrupted by the sound of a chime.

"Sounds like we've got visitors," said George, putting down his stock list and walking over to the window. "Persona revelio," he commanded, tapping a window pane with his wand. A tiny moving picture appeared on the glass.

"Looks like Hermione's brought your house-elf, Harry. I'll let them in."

He performed a complicated wand movement, and a moment later Hermione walked into the room, followed by a reluctant-looking Kreacher.

"Hi everyone," Hermione said brightly, glancing at the empty foil cartons stacked on the table and the Butterbeer bottles lying around on the floor. "Looks like you've been having fun."

"Er, sorry, would you like something to eat? George would love an excuse to go out to the takeaway," said Fred, poking his brother in the ribs.

"No thanks, I ate at Hogwarts," Hermione said. "Harry, you're not going to like this, but apparently the Ministry are making noises about taking Kreacher back into their custody."

"No way," Harry said promptly. "He'll tell them where I am. And there aren't many people at the Ministry I'd trust these days."

"We'll hide him here," Fred said. "There's a big cupboard on the landing we use as an overflow stockroom. It's pretty empty at the moment, with all the stuff we've sold for Christmas presents and parties and such. We can put him in there."

"It's got a lagged hot water tank too, be nice and cosy for him," George added, as he saw Hermione looking doubtful. "Come on, Kreacher, I'll get you settled in."

"Go with George, Kreacher," Harry commanded. He wanted to have a word with Hermione, and the less the house-elf knew of their plans the better, in his opinion. When the door had shut on Kreacher's muttered complaints, he turned to her eagerly. "Hermione, guess what, a house-elf came over from Vix's Vices with a message from Severus!"

When he'd told Hermione about the requested potion ingredients, and his deductions, he was a bit annoyed to see her looking doubtful.

"You don't know it was from him,” she said. “And even if it was... this whole Memory Melding thing sounds dangerous to me. It's risky, Snape putting himself in the lion's den..."

"Fox's den," Ron chimed in unexpectedly. Everyone stared at him. "Vix," he explained. "His boys call him the fox."

"Really?" Hermione said, momentarily diverted. "I wonder..." Then she shook her head and turned her attention back to Harry. "I'm surprised you're going along with this, letting Snape put himself in danger for you."

"Look," Harry said. "Of course I don't want to put him in danger. I'd rather the whole wizarding world saw me begging Death Eaters to fuck me. But I'm sure Severus knows what he's doing."

"Well, I'm having nothing to do with it; the whole thing sounds silly," Hermione said. "You should leave Vix and his knocking shop well alone. And what you ought to be doing, Harry, is finding out what Kreacher knows about the Ministry angle."

"Fine!" Harry said. He couldn't understand Hermione's attitude. Crossly, he stalked out onto the landing, heading for the store cupboard and Kreacher.

~*~
Harry came back into the sitting room to find Hermione glaring at Ron. "Well, maybe now you know how I felt getting that Portkey from Malfoy," she was saying.

Ron scowled. "Yeah, well, it's diff..."

"Don't tell me it's different for girls," Hermione said crossly. Then she saw Harry, and turned to him with relief. "Did Kreacher tell you anything?"

"Not much," Harry said. "He's being his usual unhelpful self. He claims he doesn't know anything about Vix's past, whether he was a Death Eater or anything, but he did tell me a bit more about Vix's Vices – apparently they kept him there for a while after he'd been caught at the Ministry. Vix has some sort of hold over Amos Diggory. And other wizards at the Ministry too, I think."

"What sort of hold?"

"Well, it sounds like this Vix is a really nasty character – all sorts of things go on at that brothel of his –" Harry carefully didn't look at Ron as he said this "– including house-elf abuse."

"That's nothing new," Hermione said. "It's an abuse to keep them enslaved the way wizards have for centuries."

"Er, I think he meant sexual abuse, Hermione," Harry said awkwardly.

Hermione looked horrified. "That's just sick!"

But George was nodding. "Yeah, I'd heard rumours... and of course it's seriously illegal, it would explain how he's got Ministry officials under his thumb."

"Not those 'Rufus Scrimgeour rapes house-elves' rumours?" Fred scoffed. "Nobody believes those."

"Maybe they should," Hermione said briskly. "Oh all right, I suppose I'll have to help... where's this list you were talking about?"

George extricated it from under an empty carton. "Mmm... we've got most of these in stock," he said, running his finger down the list and leaving greasy stains on the parchment.

"Woolly rhino horn?" Fred said, taking the list from his twin. "That's not part of the Memory Melding spell, is it?"

"Nope," Harry said. "I guess he put that in to make it look more like a lust potion." He privately hoped it was also a message to himself.

"There are one or two things we haven't got," Fred said, making crosses on the parchment before handing it to Hermione. "Looks like you'll have to sweet-talk the Slug for these, Hermione."

"Sperma Draconis?" Hermione said, frowning at the list. "Dragon seed? That wasn't mentioned in the Memory Melding scroll, was it? And I don't know where we'd get any; it's awfully rare..."

Harry grinned. "He doesn't really mean dragon seed," he said. He'd had all day to brood over the scroll, and was pretty sure he knew what Severus intended. "I know what he means..." and his face darkened momentarily at the image of Malfoy coming all over the toe of Snape's shoe. "He wants that memory of Draco Malfoy he bottled; no problem, I've got it with me."

"Right then," George said. "We'll just put it in a parcel along with the woolly rhino horn and the other stuff."

"You'd better disguise it," Harry told him. "We don't want anyone realising what it is."

"Don't worry," said Fred. "We'll bewitch it to look like the dragon's spunk he ordered." He winked at Hermione. "Remember our old Owl Order Service to Hogwarts – love potions disguised as cough medicines? That fooled old Filch, all right."

Hermione looked dubious. "You're not dealing with a Squib now, you know. And do you know what dragon's seed looks like?"

"Charlie will," George said confidently. "We can ask him."

Harry felt suddenly happy; he was surrounded by his friends, helping him – it was like old times. He remembered something, and turned to Hermione. "Hermione, you know Ron said they call Vix 'the Fox' – do you think he's an Animagus, too?"

Hermione shook her head. "No-o-o," she said slowly. "But isn't vix an old name for fox? I just wondered whether he's always been called that... maybe he changed his name at some point. If he's not always been called Vix, that might be why Kreacher claimed he didn't know anything about his past. You know how literal he can be when he's trying to avoid telling you anything useful."

"I'll try him again," Harry said grimly, leaving the sitting room and heading back to the store cupboard.

~*~
"Let's try again," Harry said patiently. He found it hard to be civil to Kreacher, but felt that he ought to make the effort. "Vix. Do you know ANYTHING about his past – WHATEVER his name was at the time?"

Kreacher looked evasive. Harry felt his heart begin to pound. He was suddenly sure the ugly old house-elf knew something. "Was he a Death Eater? Did he know Severus Snape – in the old days?"

"Master is obsessed with that half blood traitor," Kreacher grumbled. "Alas, that Kreacher has such a master. Kreacher misses his old mistress, yes he does –"

"Kreacher!" Harry said sternly. "Answer my questions. Was –"

"No, he was no Death Eater," Kreacher said quickly. Harry didn't miss the fact that his other question remained unanswered.

"Did he EVER know, come into contact with, have anything at all to do with, Severus Snape?" he asked tensely, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Kreacher. He had never regretted his lack of Legilimency skills more. But it seemed he had at last asked the right question; and the house-elf's servitude compelled him to reply.

"Yes, he was a rent boy, Master's precious lover hurt him and he has never forgotten. He had complained that he did not enjoy sex with him... and who but a pervert would, with such an ugly, greasy half blood traitor... of course my master is such a pervert, what would my mistress have said..."

Harry felt suddenly sick. Kreacher was still muttering under his breath about how he hated his master and how he missed his old mistress, but Harry no longer heard him. He was remembering...

It was nearly nine months and five hundred miles away. He was in Severus Snape's office, the evening before Snape took him to his bed for the first time. There was a Pensieve on the table between them, containing Snape's memory of his cruelty to a certain rent boy.

Harry saw again that dark little room, the youthful Snape and the rent boy who he now realised must have been a young version of Vix.

He winced, as he'd winced then, remembering Snape's expression as he sneered that the boy wasn't enjoying himself, as he spelled the boy to hardness and brutally pumped him to climax again and again, until the young Vix was hysterically begging him to stop. How he'd fucked the boy dry, ignoring – or maybe relishing – his screams. And finally, the casual way he'd gestured over his shoulder with his wand as he left, not caring whether his Reparo spell on the boy's bloodied arse worked or not...

Snape had said he was showing Harry the memory because 'it's only fair to warn you about me.' But Harry had wondered then – and wondered still – if the real reason was to knock him off balance, to make him ready for sex on Snape's terms.

Harry couldn't help smiling as he recalled the rest of that night, so seminal for both of them. He had lost his virginity, but it had been Snape who had cried; Snape who had admitted later that he'd never before felt an emotional connection with a sexual partner...

He came back to the present to see Kreacher glowering at him sourly. "Master is thinking of sex, like the cock-happy tart he is," the house-elf muttered furiously. Harry was too shaken to reprimand him.

He'd confidently told the others that Severus Snape was in no danger, that he knew what he was doing at Vix's. But now that Harry knew what lay between those two in the past, he was no longer sure this was true.

TBC >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A/N Not long to go now... I really hope I can get this fic finished before Deathly Hallows is published!