Forsaken
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
50
Views:
2,166
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
50
Views:
2,166
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
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.
Grief and Fury, Trust and Betrayal
Chapter 32 - Grief and Fury, Trust and Betrayal
His feet were propped up on the window sill, his desk chair positioned so that the frigid cold air hit him directly in the face. He wiggled his fingers, feeling the blood pumping ever so slowly through them. He pushed away from the sill, rocking back in his chair. Albus had always hated him doing that, telling him he would fall and split his head open.
Severus took another long drink. He was now pleasantly and completely drunk. Good. Just where he wanted to be -beyond the reach of coherent thought. He had no desire to think of her, or the way her hair framed her face, or the way her eyes lit up when she was angry.
“Dammit,” he slurred quietly. He flung his head back and closed his eyes.
He shook his hands out, looking at his pale face in his mirror.
“You can do this,” he said to himself. "It's just a little soiree. At Malfoy Manor.” He smoothed down the front of his dress robes and adjusted the hat he only wore on special occasions - a graduation present from his mother.
“Indulge me,” she had told him that morning in June, standing on her tip toes to set the exquisite hat atop his damp hair. “This is my last chance to spoil you a bit before you go off to that blasted Academy.”
“Mother, we’ve been through this already,” he replied, adjusting the hat on his head. He repositioned his House sash that crossed over his chest and wrapped around his thin waist. The sunlight glistened brightly off the honors badges that Dumbledore had given him the day before.
“I know, Severus,” she said, her eyes tearing up. She brushed a strand of thin hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. “I’m so proud of you, my little Prince.” A rare, genuine smile graced the young man’s face. He bent down and kissed her cheek.
“I love you, Mum,” he whispered before joining Rosier and Avery to sit with the rest of his Housemates.
He touched the brim of the hat again, pushing back the painful memories that were threatening to overwhelm him. They had moved her to St. Mungo’s just a few weeks ago. He’d already gotten the first hospital bill, forwarded on from his deadbeat father’s address. In a flurry of dark blue robes, he left the small room he had rented in Hogsmeade for the weekend and made his way downstairs.
She hadn’t been part of the plan for the evening. She was sitting at the empty bar, slowly sipping a glass of merlot with a plate of unfinished food on the counter in front of her. He walked past her and froze as his mind caught up with his eyes. He spun around slowly, purposely forgetting about Dylan Yaxley waiting for him down the street, and took a seat next to her.
“Fancy meeting a beautiful woman like yourself here, in a place like this,” he murmured quietly. He glared at the bartender’s wary look. “Scotch on the rocks.”
“Such rudeness,” she answered in a sultry tone. “I see you haven’t changed a bit since we left school.” The bearded bartender set a spotted glass in front of him, four huge ice cubes floating in amber liquid.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Severus casually, swilling his drink. “I think you might be surprised.” She smirked into her glass.
“I’m sure I would,” she murmured before taking a final sip of her wine. She pushed back her stool and stood up, revealing the flattering cut of her robes. She caught the darkening of his eyes as Severus looked at her over the top of his glass. She leaned towards him and whispered in his ear.
“Room eleven, if you dare.”
Severus forced his eyes open, refusing to travel down that particular memory lane. That had been the night she’d found him out. She had been shocked, sure. She hadn’t even let him finish explaining why. She had stayed.
But she had disappeared by sunrise. He had waited for a week for some kind of acknowledgement before sending an owl. By the end of the next month, he was furiously and dutifully sending her an owl every couple of days, demanding to know where in the hell she was and why she was refusing to answer him. It was definitely the worst summer he’d had in quite some time, ending with an infuriating visit to Spain.
A fine ending to a year of hell. His attitude upon returning to Hogwarts for the start of term had worried Albus greatly, but the old man said nothing, waiting for Severus to volunteer the reasons for his sullenness. His Council induction later that fall was almost a year to the day after Regulus had been murdered, setting in motion another eleven months of suspicion and terror, espionage and treachery, culminating in the night that changed the course of Wizarding history.
He lifted his bottle in a bitter toast and drained the last of its contents down his throat. He held the bottle out in front of him and flicked his wand out of his holster to conjure more. Or to summon a bottle of something else. Whichever. He missed catching his wand, watching as it soared across the room. It hit the far wall and clattered noisily to the floor.
“Shit,” he muttered. His arms fell to the sides of his chair, his hands like lead weights. Oh, he was so drunk. He would hate himself in the morning. He rolled out of the chair, the room spinning sickeningly as he stumbled over towards where his wand lay on the floor. He tripped over his own feet and fell to his hands and knees, collapsing on the floor in uncontrollable laughter.
“Jesus Christ,” muttered a voice above him. “I should ward that damn cabinet shut, Severus.”
“Kingsley!” cried Severus jovially. “Have a drink with me.” He lifted the empty bottle in his hand and put it to his lips. He pulled it away and tilted it over his face. “Damn. This one’s empty.”
“Get up,” said Kingsley, pulling hard on Severus’s arm. He stumbled and almost pitched forward when Severus threw his head back in laughter. He promptly dropped Severus back on the floor and rested his hand on the bed post.
“I haven’t seen you this bad in a while,” muttered Kingsley to himself. He squatted down in front of Severus’s bemused face. “You went and talked to her, didn’t you?” Severus frowned a little.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” said Kingsley, kicking out his leg and sitting on the floor under the window. Severus’s head rolled towards him, his eyes glazing over.
“She hates me,” repeated Severus sullenly. “But she’s so beautiful. Her eyes sparkle when she’s mad at me.” Kingsley chuckled.
“And why was she mad at you this time?” he asked.
“Because she knew I was in Hogsmeade today,” answered Severus. Kingsley sighed, getting confirmation of the feeling he’d had when he saw the post office explode. The debris had hit everything except for the group of students across the street.
“And I told her Nikolai was in town,” slurred Severus. “He’s after that damn talisman. I don’t know why though.”
“What medallion?” asked Kingsley. Severus is going to kill you, you know, taunted his mind. He ignored it.
“Voldemort,” said Severus defiantly, his inhibitions non-existent at this point, “sent Lucius to Nikolai fucking Moran to find some talisman he wants. God knows what it can do, but she insists on wearing the damn thing around her very pretty neck.” He lifted the empty bottle to his lips again and sighed when he found it still empty. His hand dropped limply to the floor, the bottle rolling out of his hand
“And Voldemort didn’t tell you anything about this talisman?’ asked Kingsley warily.
“Nope,” said Severus. “Not a bloody thing, the bastard.” Kingsley frowned. It obviously bothered Severus a great deal to learn that he wasn’t being told everything, especially considering he was Voldemort’s right hand. Kingsley looked up again, his mouth open in question. His shoulders sagged at seeing Severus passed out on the floor.
“I should leave you there, you idiot,” he murmured. He bent down and pulled Severus up onto the bed, rolling him over onto his stomach. He opened the drawer in the bedside table and shook his head, digging through the many vials filled with dark purple liquid to find what he needed. He had to dig to the very bottom of the drawer, but he found one vial filled with a pale yellow potion. Setting the vial on the small table, he bent down to pick up Severus’s wand.
“I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Kingsley, setting the wand beside the Hangover potion. He shut the window and the curtains, and waved the overhead light out. He stumbled over the chair as he made his way out of the room. Pulling the door shut behind him, he gave the girls waiting in the hall a sad smile.
“You might want to keep things quiet in the morning,” said Kingsley. “He won’t be in the best of moods.”
“I should do what my mum does when she finds one of the boys drunk,” muttered Ginny.
“I hate to think what pieces of you would be scattered around the house if you did,” teased Kingsley. “I’ll try and be back tomorrow afternoon. He probably won’t be up by then, but you never know.” The bathroom door opened, revealing a shy Neville dressed in pajamas.
“All yours,” he said to Ginny. She hastily stepped into the room and shut the door, the lock sliding into place. Caitlyn sighed and moved closer to the door. Pansy slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
“We’ll have to find a house with more bathrooms, eh girls?” said Kingsley. Caitlyn and Pansy laughed as he walked down the stairs. He pushed the staircase door into something hard.
“Oh, sorry Harry,” said Kingsley, stepping around a camp bed that sat in front of the door. Harry sighed, ruffling his hair.
“Blaise, move the sofa back where you had it earlier,” said Harry. “Maybe that will work better.”
“I told you,” said Blaise, flicking his wand at the threadbare sofa. He carefully moved it against the wall as Harry moved the tables to the corner. Kingsley glanced over at Neville, who was scanning the contents of the liquor cabinet.
“I don’t need to take an inventory, do I?" he said a bit sternly. Neville grinned at him.
“No,” he replied. “I don’t drink.”
“Lightweight,” coughed Harry into his hand. Blaise snorted softly.
“Good,” said Kingsley. “I’ll also assume that I don’t need to charm the staircase either.” All three boys blushed at that.
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Harry. “It’s a little too crowded for that, don’t you think?”
“Hm,” hummed Kingsley, eyeing Harry’s cheeky grin. He weaved his way around the other two camp beds and the three trunks that were spilling their contents onto the floor. “See you gentlemen tomorrow then.”
“Night,” said the boys.
~~+~~+~~+~~
He slowly cracked a puffy eye open and shut it again quickly. He could hear the quiet shushing of someone outside his door and sighed into his pillow. Of all the things to do in front of the kids, getting completely pissed off his ass was not at the top of his list of acceptable behavior. He forced his eye open again and spotted the vial of pale golden liquid. He grabbed it greedily and turned over onto his back to drink it, sighing in relief as the pounding in his head lessened.
Severus kicked his shoes off over the end of the bed and turned back over on his stomach. He winced at the soft knocking on the door.
“Go away!” he snarled. He heard the catches of the door click and growled.
“Good afternoon, Professor,” said a bright, feminine voice. “I thought you might be hungry and dehydrated.” Caitlyn sat a plate bearing a sandwich along with a tall glass of cold water on his bedside table. She gave him a huge smile, despite the murderous look in his eye. His other eye remained buried in his pillow, destroying the overall effect.
“Kingsley will be over in a while,” she said. “You might want to look somewhat alive. Sir.” She gently patted his back and left the room.
He didn’t know how long he just laid there, staring at a spot below the window. Every once in a while, laughter drifted up the stairs and underneath his door. It was strange, hearing laughter in his house - a house he hated, a house he had only bought as a refuge from Albus’s meddling influence. However, his emotional attachments to the castle never kept him away for long. He closed his eyes, pushing away thoughts of yesterday, allowing his mind to wonder why the Dark Lord hadn’t summoned him yet.
He heard the door open again, followed by an exasperated sigh. Kingsley shut the door behind him and stepped over to the chair he’d tripped on the night before. He spun it around and set it about a foot from the wall. Sitting down heavily, he tilted the chair back hard against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, staring at his friend who had barely registered his presence.
“Get up off your ass, Severus,” he said sharply. “We’ve got work to do.” Severus sighed, but didn’t move. Kingsley rolled his eyes, his temper subsiding just as quickly as it has risen. He leaned his head back against the wall, letting the silence resume in the room for a few moments.
“You didn’t have a choice, Severus” said Kingsley quietly. Severus rolled over onto his back in response, staring blankly at the ceiling. He ran his fingers over his stomach, feeling the rips and tears where hexes and jinxes had hit his dueling robes.
“How many children did we lose?” asked Severus, his voice rough. Kingsley dropped his gaze to the floor.
“Fifteen, at last count,” he answered. “Two fifth years were Kissed. Four third years - Gryffindors - were killed by Avadas, all of them in a circle. Five Hufflepuffs, four more Ravenclaws.”
“And the last?” whispered Severus, his heart twisting so hard in his chest he could hardly breathe.
“A second year,” said Kingsley reluctantly.
“House?” asked Severus.
“Slytherin,” whispered Kingsley, his words barely audible. Severus turned his head and pierced him with the most intense, pain-filled look in his eyes that Kingsley had ever seen.
“Who?” asked Severus. He sat up when Kingsley didn’t answer him immediately. “Kingsley?”
“Annabelle Vellingshem,” said Kingsley. The chair’s legs hit the floor hard as Severus’s face paled to a translucent white.
“Oh God,” gasped Severus. He shook violently in shock.
“Severus?” asked Kingsley worriedly. “Severus, talk to me, mate.” Severus took a deep breath.
“My cousin’s only daughter,” choked out Severus. “We were very close until - how?”
“Severus, I don’t think -“
“Damn it, Kingsley!” shouted Severus, enraged. “Answer my fucking question!”
“Alright!” shouted Kingsley back. “As far as we can tell, it was some kind of fast-acting poison. Hit her full in the chest and ate completely through her ribs.” Severus jumped up from the bed, his back to Kingsley, breathless with fury. It was one thing to kill one of his relatives. It was another thing entirely to frame him for it.
All members of the circle knew Severus was the only one skilled enough to actually use Throwing poisons. His aim had been impeccable when he was a Chaser in school - it had only gotten better at the Academy, where he had special training for throwing Paralyzing darts, which were still in the experimental phases at that point. The Dark Lord had practically forbidden anyone but Severus to use the poisons, he was that good.
This was a personal attack from someone inside the circle. Only one name came to mind - a man who had been trying for two years now to do everything he could to goad Severus into making a wrong move.
Severus swiftly undid the buttons of his sleeves as he stormed to his closet. He grabbed some clothes and made his way to the door. Kingsley stood as he yanked the door open. The knob hit the wall so hard it dented the wood paneling. Ginny’s eyes widened at seeing him from where she stood in Harry’s old room, the glass in her hand hitting the floor with a shatter. Caitlyn stood up from the bed, standing behind Ginny.
“I will need everyone downstairs in a few minutes,” said Severus, his voice like cold steel. “We have work to do.”
“Yes sir,” they said in unison. Severus nodded once and went into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.