Happiness In Slavery He groaned. Severus blinked blearily at the green curtain hanging still and silent before his eyes. He'd had the most god-awful nightmares: chanting, and the burning drag of a wand around his body, and some sort of headache that left his dream self nauseated and immobile. Last time I sleep with an active Osmosis Charm. He'd cast the damned thing the night before, along with a short-term Mind-Clearing Spell, in order to concentrate completely while he performed the slow, tricky process of boiling down cobra rib jelly. If anyone wandered into the Potions classroom (a slim chance at best) he could always claim it was for his Trance Draught. It was a perfectly legal, safe use for a dubious ingredient. The jelly sat safely at the bottom of his trunk, now, waiting for him to turn it into a substance of devastating beauty. Those plans were currently on hold. Severus tried to sit up. He groaned out loud and slumped back, heels of his hands ground against his eyes. It felt like the mother of all hangovers. His stomach lurched. Severus barely had time to clap a hand over his mouth and rush to the bathroom in nothing but a sheet before a night's worth of stomach acid met the light of day. He panted painfully, clutching the sink and trying not to inhale the long, stinking threads dangling from his nose. A toilet flushing and a stall door opening barely distracted him. "Um... Se-Severus? Do I need to get Madam Pomfrey?" Snape weakly turned his head to see Nagendra standing there uncomfortably with a worried look. He moaned softly and shook his head. It almost triggered another rush of vomiting. "What were you doing last night? Drinking?" Patil turned on a tap and stuck his hands under it. "I don't even remember you coming in." Severus blinked. "Studying." Talking was somehow easier than moaning. "You're going to work yourself to death, mate. You need to relax." "You sound like my mother." "Sometimes I wish I were your mother. 'Least then I could make you take a week off." Snape snorted softly. The cool porcelain against his forehead helped some. "Naggy, if that were the case you would most definitely not be my mother. She'd give me a Trance Draught and tell me to lay down for an hour." "That strict?" "She's from the old country. What do you think?" Nagendra laughed and patted Severus on the back. "I know all about that, mate. At least you're the baby, eh?" Severus groaned again. "Don't even get me started on that." Raj, Severus' eldest brother, swore up and down (far from their parents' ears) that, if he'd not had Hogwarts to hide at ten months out of the year, he'd have ended up in Saint Mungo's from having to uphold the family name. At least their father, English prat that he was, didn't have quite the same enthusiasm for obedience as their mum. "Need me to get you anything?" Snape shook his head. "No, thanks." While he regretted that anyone should have to know that he was a puking girl's blouse, Nagendra would keep his mouth shut. He was a good fellow, Naggy, more cunning than ambitious and content to let a man humiliate himself in peace. He'd never be great, never be remembered by history, but Severus couldn't fault him. "Give me a yell if you change your mind." Snape flashed a weak smile and was alone. He waited several more minutes before rinsing the taste of rot from his mouth and straightening up carefully. His stomach gave an outraged gurgle but didn't lurch. A little shaky, temples pounding like a herd of erumpents, he skirted the wall all the way back to the room. Severus went straight for his wand. He held it to his head with both tight hands and muttered the Osmosis Counter-charm. A low chuckle came from Lucius' bed. Severus glared. "Yes?" "Oh, nothing, carry on." Snape glared once more. The Counter-charm didn't help (in fact, he might have sworn his headache spiked), but he didn't expect it to. He rummaged through his trunk before coming up with a vial of Painkilling Potion. The thin, bitter liquid trickled down his throat and left the stench of licorice lingering in his nose. Several seconds passed before the pain subsided, and when it did he was surprised to find the vial's shards sticking from his bloody palm. Severus leaned on his other hand for a moment before picking up his wand again for an Extraction Charm. Perhaps I ought to take my own advice and have a Trance Draught. There was barely enough cobra rib jelly for both the small batch of Trance Draught he had to send home and the Imperius Salve, though. Over Christmas holiday he could probably talk the Malfoys into taking him to Knockturn Alley... if Lucius had gotten off his high horse and started speaking to him by then. He flopped down on the twisted bedspread, sheet still wrapped loosely around his hips and riding up to his thighs. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lucius glance over and smile faintly. Severus ignored it. He had more important things to focus on than Lucius' sex drive. Being Sunday, the classrooms would, as always, be deserted. However, while he could explain cobra rib jelly, there was no possible way to explain muttering Unforgivable Curses over a pile of Ashwinder eggshells. He thought hard; the thoughts seemed to move very quickly, although Snape attributed that to running off to be sick first thing in the morning and not having had time to catch up with himself. Despite their speed, he had little difficulty keeping track. The safest possible place he could get to was the Shrieking Shack. The full moon had come and gone, and there would be no Lupin brothers, nor anyone else. Any noise would be attributed to the - feh - ghosts. It was easy enough to get there, and he could sneak down in the dead of night. After all, nobody had seen him to stop him last time. He grudgingly supposed he could thank Sirius Black's hateful mouth for giving him a laboratory. He quickly calculated that the potion would take between two and four hours to complete. It would mean being out after curfew, but he could leave around eight, say he was going to study for his upcoming Herbology exam, and be in no later than half past midnight. Severus closed his eyes, smiling to himself. None of his loyal Slytherins would breathe a peep about him being out so late. It was good to be the king. Severus tried to sit up again. His head no longer spun, his stomach no longer churned, and despite a lingering dizziness he felt more or less himself. Gathering his dressing gown and the small bottle of hemp oil for his hair, he got up and went to have a shower.   "Sometimes," he kissed Peter's bare neck, "I think you have learned, only you pretend not to." Peter shook his head as little as he could and tilted his neck to allow further access. Severus smirked and drew a long lick over pillowy, salty skin. Peter whimpered softly. Loquacious Elixir required two hours to boil. Thanks to assorted privacy charms, nobody would ever find out how they spent those two hours. "I've got a treat for you." Snape drew the precious jar of salve from his bag and unscrewed it. He held it out for Peter to smell. Even his nose twitched like a rat's. "Minty." "Take off your clothes and stretch out." "But what about...?" Pettigrew motioned clumsily. "Foreplay?" Peter blushed and nodded. "This is foreplay. You'll see what I mean." Severus smiled, subtly fluttering his eyes in the way that always, always turned Peter into putty. He was rewarded with a shy smile and, in a moment, expanses of pink skin. Peter looked back at him with worship shining in his eyes. Just like a Gryffindor to offer himself up as an altar. Or a lab rat - either description fit. Snape knelt and left a long trail of kisses up Pettigrew's fleshy spine. He'd gained rather a few useful tidbits from this sort of behaviour. Thanks to Pettigrew's trusting, slimy little mouth, Black and Potter were polishing every suit of armour on the main floor of the castle that night. Otherwise, Snape might not have found that leaking pipe and taken Filch down that particular corridor outside Slytherin where the duo were setting up an elaborate network of Dungbombs and trip wire charms. "How was your weekend?" he asked tenderly, unscrewing the jar and scooping out two fingers' worth of transparent green gel. Peter hummed quietly. "Okay. Missed you." "You only saw me Thursday." Snape managed to smile through his disgust. "I know. Four days is a long time." Peter gasped softly at the cool gel touching the back of his neck. Despite Tom's assurances, Severus was a bit nervous about the salve. He'd kept his robe on to provide a safety barrier. "It was worth waiting for this, wasn't it?" He began to rub the gel into sunless skin stretched and lined over morbidly intriguing fat. Peter hummed again, louder and more insistent. He wriggled, sending a wave through the mountain of his body, and closed his watery eyes. Flesh gave and shifted beneath Severus' hands. Beneath the layers of fat he could feel thin muscle loosen and lax. It was a decidedly odd feeling and he was reminded of shifting sand. Smiling, murmuring useless phrases that made his pet gaze at him with ridiculous words all but forming on his lips, he kneaded and stroked the slick gel into Peter's skin. While the Imperius Salve simmered over excruciatingly low heat in the Shrieking Shack, Severus had thought long and hard about what to use as a test suggestion. It would have to be simple, innocuous, and something he could gauge. In his hands, Tom cast up the odd bit of encouragement. It brought a smile to Severus' face to see those green words appear sharp on the page. Had he not had that warming presence, he might have given up and run from the ramshackle building filled with splinters, and dust, and rusty stains, and cockroaches without enough sense to fear werewolves. In the end, they'd agreed on a simple suggestion. It might gain some notice from Pettigrew's pack, but could be easily explained by the extended bouts of tutoring and a few well-placed words. On the other hand, it was something shy, shirking little Pettigrew would never do under normal circumstances, especially since it might betray their "little secret". "Sometimes," Severus said softly, "I wonder if you prefer me to your friends." Peter looked up with a funny, happy yet torn expression. When he settled his head on his plump forearms again, his skin had taken a slight ashen hue. "Um..." "I certainly prefer you to my friends." He smiled softly at Peter's gape. "You've made me realise how ridiculous this House rivalry is. Perhaps..." he trailed off and looked away coyly. "Forget it. It's nothing." "I want to hear." Peter's eyes were shining, and his lower lip hung slack. Once again, he'd taken on a rosy tint, and his skin was warm and trembling under Snape's hands. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to do anything that might hurt-" "Please?" Severus smiled as shyly as he could. It took rather a lot of effort to make a blush rise in his cheeks, but he did. "It would mean so much to me if you'd get to know some of my friends. Not to let anything on, of course, but... when you've got a moment on your own, say hello?" There was a beat, and the sudden dark flicker of Peter's pupils told Snape that the suggestion had taken. Peter blinked. "Are you sure?" he asked halfheartedly. "I mean, what if they don't-?" "Then they're not really my friends, are they?" He leaned forward and, as gently as possible, pressed a soft kiss to Pettigrew's lips. It was a calculated move he only ever used to punctuate an approved behaviour, or to reward information given well. Peter whimpered almost silently and returned it. His eyes fluttered shut and pudgy fingers came to rest on Severus' cheek. They held the kiss for several seconds before Severus pulled back. Both were breathing hard. For different reasons, of course. "Make love to me?" Peter murmured. He looked like a cherub stripped of its wings and damned to live for eternity as a fat, vaguely human rat. Severus nuzzled his ear. "Soon. I promise." With a happy sigh, Pettigrew settled back in place. Snape rubbed the last traces of gel into skin. Glancing at the contented, fat face for an instant, he inspected the webs of his fingers for any lingering traces. Carefully, he wiped them off and rubbed them in until they dried and vanished. It only took a moment to reseal the jar. Peter chose that moment to open his eyes. "You're not going to use that for...?" Severus shook his head. "Mint is an anesthetic. You want to feel me, don't you?" He traced a long finger along the puffy edge of Pettigrew's arse. Peter whimpered. He nodded his head frantically. Snape didn't have to reach between his thick legs to know the desperate excuse for a Gryffindor was as hard as a rock. Gently, he traded the jar for another in his bag. The silken kulfi-flavoured lotion would be a new experience for Peter, one that should further cement his devotion to his master. Carefully, after snapping on a rubber glove (a perfectly rational protective measure against injury and infection, he'd explained ages ago), Severus dipped three fingers into the pot. They came back coated in thick, pale yellow emulsion that left peaks where he'd touched it. When the first long finger slipped in, Peter squealed. Quickly, he got to his knees and pressed his enormous arse back towards Severus. Severus' lip curled. He forced it into a smile. Almost immediately, Peter's breathing was ragged. "Oh, god. Feels different. Oh, god, Severus, I'm going to... going to..." he dropped his head and gave a high, nasal keen as thick, white globs dappled the stones. For fuck's sake, Pettigrew, learn to control yourself! Pathetic rat! Snape smiled widely and leaned forward to kiss a flushed cheek. "I was going to ask how you liked it. Doesn't look like there was much need." "M'sorry." Peter tried to hide his face in his arms. "No reason. I take it as a compliment." "Really?" Shy blue eyes peeked out. "How else should I? I hope you don't mind if I don't stop." Snape kissed an ear. He whispered, "I don't want either of us to ever forget tonight." Peter turned his face away. "I love you," he said in a trembling voice. Severus' stomach turned. He made his eyes go wide, his lips part in apparent surprise before spreading into a huge smile over his revulsion. "I love you, too," he lied through his teeth. The rolls on Peter's back rippled as his body began to shake. It took a moment to realise he was sobbing. One hand still ensconced in that fleshy body, Snape rubbed the other over a round shoulder. "What's wrong?" Peter shook his head. "Nothing," he whispered between sobs. "Nothing at all." He looked up. His lashes were stuck together with moisture, laced over reddened eyes. The way his lips had puckered slightly made him look like he'd just shaken hands with God. "Nobody... ever... never..." "Nobody?" Snape stroked limp, fine hair. It was so thin he could see pink scalp between the sandy strands. Pettigrew shook his head. "Not like that." Oh, fuck, Severus. You'd better have a way out of this. Severus tilted his head and kissed Peter again, ever so softly. Their lips clung for a moment before parting. "What do you want?" "You. In me. Forever and ever." "Let's start with now and go from there, eh?" Peter smirked shyly and giggled. "Okay." Rocking back on his knees, Snape started moving his finger slowly in and out. He wondered vaguely if the Ashwinder eggs had done something to affect Peter like that. More likely the tub of lard was just so happy someone would look twice at him, much less fuck him three times a week, that he'd taken it as "love". Peter moaned softly. His back arched, forcing Snape to bump his prostate. The moan turned into a gasp. Snape's throat tightened when Peter started humping his hand. "Slow down. You want to enjoy this, don't you?" Pettigrew did. Thank god. Perhaps the lotion wasn't such a good idea. Putting a hand on the small of Pettigrew's back to keep him still, Snape slid another finger inside. It was tempting to skip this process entirely. However, the more lotion he applied, the thicker the layer between them. By the time he'd inserted the third and final, Peter was moaning steadily. There was no need to look to know that he was hard again. Severus pulled out. "Don't stop," came the whimpering plea. "Let me get my robe off." Carefully peeling off the glove, Severus pulled his clothes off as quickly as he could. He left his socks on - it was cold in the dungeon. With the glove back in place, he shoved his fingers in a bit too roughly. Peter's breath hitched; he groaned vividly. "You liked that, did you?" Peter nodded. His face was buried in his arms, and his hips were shaky. Smirking to himself, Severus scooped up a bit more lotion with his free hand and stroked it on his half-hard cock. Between the intensified sensations and the thought of Potter begging to suck him, he was painfully hard in under a minute. The glove went to the floor one last time as Severus positioned himself. He thrust hard, and Peter yowled into fat, folded forearms. Severus shifted a little. He closed his eyes, gripping squishy hips, thrusting hard and slow. Muffled noises came up to meet him. He imagined they were T... no, that was silly. Tom Riddle was dead, or vanished from the face of the Earth. And he certainly wasn't a cowering lump of suet. The thought lingered, though. As he imagined the body beneath him turning lithe and slender, the thin hair thick and dark (though he had no idea why - he hadn't the foggiest what Tom looked like), his motions slowed. He wanted to give pleasure, rather than merely take. Gently, grinding his hips in a painfully controlled way, he brushed the head of his cock against the small ball of prostate again and again and again and again. Unconsciously, he leaned forward, chest to back. He was slightly surprised when his arms wrapped a small whale's worth of blubber. "I love you," came the soft voice. "Mm... I love you, too," he murmured. A small shower of kisses fell on the shoulders beneath his face. He willed them to echo back thirty years. The lotion had been a mistake. The fivefold sensations building on each other were coming to a point too quickly. Severus wanted this to go on for a long, long time. Fierce attempts at control broke down, though, leaving him panting and thrusting. The body beneath him was in a similar state, mewling and wheezing and begging and bucking against him. Suddenly, it stopped, shook, and clenched down on him. A hard groan told him all he needed to know. Despite himself, he pounded his hips as hard as he could. Nerves prickled all over his body, flooded with sensations, racing with heat and tingling. A few more strokes and he buried his face in mint-scented skin, moaning as his cock throbbed and pulsed and spat its release and sent its unbalancing pleasures straight to his heart. Severus went limp. He pressed his lips to the back beneath him and rolled off. When he looked up, he flicked an eyebrow in mild surprise at Pettigrew looking at him with utter adoration. Pudgy fingers entwined his, and before he could instinctively jerk away Severus remembered to hold them. Pettigrew smiled, sated. "You could do that to me forever," he said. Snape blinked. Instead of an answer, he smiled. Crime And Punishment "... And the Quaffle is in the air!" Gin Chang's voice broke through the roar of the crowd. Severus hovered, watching with slit eyes, as Jin Chang grabbed it and started racing towards him. "Chang has it, and is racing towards-ooh, Xavier got her good! Y'okay out there, sis? Quaffle falls to Pucey, who tosses it to Charles, to Pucey, Charles, Pucey... AND AN INTERCEPT BY POTTER!" The Gryffindor section erupted. Severus gripped his broom tightly. Potter had the Quaffle clamped under his arm, dodging Pucey, Charles, and McMichael. "Gryffindor has possession, and let me tell you, folks, they're not giving it up! Ooh! Potter's still got the Quaffle, but he nearly didn't keep his head! Milton's a strong Beater, daresay she could give Malfoy a run for his money. Xavier tries his hand... and Evans sends it straight back at him! How's that for a fiery redhead, folks?" "Stick to the game, Mister Chang. We don't need any side commentary." "Sorry, Professor. Potter nearly to the scoring area now. Snape - where's his hat? - Snape is ready, flying a good, tight pattern around the goals. Potter in the scoring area now. He's going for the middle-no, the right-hand goal! He's-OH, MY GOD!" Severus' shoulder impacted solidly on Potter's stomach. Potter grunted, dropped the Quaffle, and only held onto his broom by his knees. Severus laughed. From across the pitch he caught Black glaring daggers at him, skirting the very edge of the Gryffindor scoring area. Evans cursed in his direction and swooped closer to Potter. The Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw crowds were all booing loudly. In a moment of inspiration, Severus jumped to his feet atop the broom. Grinning, he waved his hands at the stands, conducting. Motioning at Slytherin, he waved his fingers upwards. They cheered madly. When he waved them downwards, they quieted in a chuckling thunder. It only made the rest of the crowd jeer more. Severus threw his head back and laughed as he led the crowd in steadily growing boos and his own marionette House in approval. As soon as the Quaffle came back into proper play, though, he was down, broom clutched between his legs, never taking his eyes off the blood red sphere. "McMichael's got the Quaffle and is racing towards the Gryffindor goal, Pucey and Charles pulling into a Hawkshead Formation. Potter tries for another intercept, only to get Charles' elbow to the chest! Evans is close behind and... wow! Two Bludgers at once! One with her bat, and one with her broom! Nice job, Lily. Xavier's deflected one, but the Hawkshead Formation breaks up as Pucey is forced to the side. McMichael tosses the Quaffle over his shoulder to Charles, who in turn drops it to Pucey. Back to Charles, to Pucey, to Chang, to MacDonald, to Chang, to McMichael, and straight towards Gryffindor's goal." Black dived. He missed the ball by inches and the Slytherin crowd roared. Severus clapped and whistled with them. "First ten points to Slytherin. Let's see if we can fix this, eh?" "Chang..." "Only listening to the crowd, Professor McGonagall. MacDonald has the Quaffle now and is tearing over the pitch at breakneck speed. And Patil dives! Sharma follows quickly. They're neck and neck. And it's a Wronski Feint! Sharma's pushing off again, and she doesn't look happy about it. Patil's going to be lonely tonight!" There was a brief scuffle as McGonagall tried to wrest the megaphone from Chang. "Sorry, Professor! I won't do it again." "I certainly hope not, Mister Chang. May we please get on with it?" "Of course. Patil, who is most certainly not engaged to the lovely Miss Sharma for the purposes of this match, is back to circling the pitch. Potter once again has control of the Quaffle and it looks like he's out for blood." Severus braced himself, sneering as Potter streaked towards him, narrowly missing Bludgers and assorted Slytherins. Severus started to charge- His head was full of stars. Something immensely hard and painful had slammed into his stomach. As he fell, he realised Potter had deliberately plowed him with his broom. He heard a crunch, and yelped. The ground was numbingly hard. All around he heard shouting, and silhouettes gathered above him. Snape tried to argue that he was fine, but pushing himself up on his elbows he felt the most immolating pain in his right leg. Glancing down, he saw it bent at a sickening angle, dead in the middle of his calf. Hot blood soaked through the khaki trousers of his uniform. He looked up; Potter was circling. Snape's eyes narrowed. "Can you stand?" Professor Fellus crouched beside him. "Do I look like I can stand?" Severus snapped. "Well, no, but I thought maybe with help-" "Everybody, stand aside." Madam Pomfrey pushed her way through the circle. "Budge up, Socrates." Professor Fellus moved back, and Pomfrey knelt in his place. "Are you in pain?" "No, I feel like a million Galleons," Severus said sarcastically. "There's no need for that, Mister Snape. Oh, dear. I'm afraid I can't treat this here." "Why not? It's only a broken leg!" Blood started pooling on the ground. "The bone has obviously broken through your skin, and there's bound to be muscle damage. Come on, to the hospital wing with you." She conjured a stretcher and started to levitate Severus onto it. "I've got a match to finish! Just put a bloody splint on it!" He tried to push himself off the stretcher. Madam Pomfrey held him down. "No match is worth losing your leg, and I won't have anyone test that theory on my watch." He struggled anyway, and Madam Pomfrey finally cast a Restraint Charm on him. Severus growled, then spat as he heard the Gryffindor crowd go mad. Potter circled Ryan, the Slytherin alternate Keeper, head obviously down and following Severus. A glance across the pitch showed Black holding a hand over his mouth, obviously having the time of his life. Disgusted, Severus lay back. This was a matter in need of no ordinary repayment. Snape spent two and a half days in the hospital wing while Madam Pomfrey tried to reattach two severed tendons. The first day, the team came to visit him. They all looked rather dejected. In the end, they'd lost two-hundred-and-seventy to ninety. It was through dumb luck that Sharma caught the Snitch, but pure malice that Gryffindor managed a stunning twelve goals. Various and sundry Slytherins trickled in to see him, and even Peter managed to sneak in long enough to stand there dumbly, swallow, and run out. Snape spent what precious free time he had studying, or thinking about what sort of punishment to bestow upon Potter, or missing his private time with Tom. It struck him as a bit strange to be so thoroughly attached to a bit of parchment, but he consoled himself with the fact that it was, intellectually and emotionally, a person. The physical body was all Tom really lacked. Monday evening, Lucius stopped by. "Nasty fall you took, there, Sev." Snape looked up from his Arithmancy book and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You bothered to notice?" "Of course I noticed. I always notice when something happens to my best friend." That brilliant, perfect smile made the whitewashed walls look dull. "So I'm your best friend again, am I? What makes you think I agree with this concept?" Severus licked his thumb and turned a page. Lucius caught his wrist. Carefully, he turned it so the tender brown skin of the inside faced up. Lucius raised it to his lips, smouldering eyes locked with Severus'. "Because I know you," he said in his smoky voice. "Where would the shah be without his grand vizier?" "Awfully high impression you've got of yourself, Malfoy." Lucius tutted. "I should be upset at that. You've had a nasty injury, though, so I'm prepared to forgive you." He reached into his bag and pulled out Snape's hat. "Stole this from the locker room before anyone else could." He set it on Snape's head. Severus suddenly felt dressed. "Thanks," he said dryly, hiding his gratitude. Lucius smiled sweetly and stroked the inside of Snape's wrist. "Not at all." So Lucius had finally gotten over his tantrum. Severus supposed it was proper to show similar loyalty. "What have you been doing with yourself?" Lucius shrugged. "Studying. Library. The rest hasn't really been only with myself." "Narcissa, or someone else? Or both?" "Nobody you'd know." The sly, knowing Malfoy smile told Snape he'd find out eventually. "I've got a friend who'd like to meet you sometime." "How wonderful for him." "Sev, this is a big deal. He's powerful. I've already introduced Evan and Adam and Emeric. You'd like him." "Not Naggy?" Lucius shook his head. "Naggy's not really his... type. Too... Mudblood." "Naggy's pure-blood." "His gran's a Muggle." Severus rolled his eyes. "And that makes him the embodiment of Mudblood, then?" Lucius nodded. "How 'bout we talk about this in private? Once Pomfrey's untied you, I mean." Severus shook his head and looked at his book again. "I suppose." A small alarm was shrieking at the back of his mind. He shifted. Part of him wondered when Lucius would take his revenge for being cut. "Does this have to do with that thing on your arm?" Lucius quickly put a hand over Severus' mouth. He did it carefully, thumb brushing a chiseled lower lip. In a moment, his mouth replaced the hand. Severus raised his eyebrows; they'd always kept anything beyond slight touches confined to each other's bed. There was no need to advertise; most of the school had figured out by now that they were friends with benefits. "You don't have to bring that up here, do you, Sev?" Lucius murmured against the kiss. "Hmm." Severus refused to flinch. He kissed Lucius back, briefly, and shoved him aside. "Don't suppose you got my homework for me?" Lucius fluttered his lashes and pulled a handful of scrolls from his bag. "Arithmancy, a History of Magic essay, something about soil types for Sprout that I still don't get, and a chart for Divination. I don't understand why you study that crap, Sev. It's not like Trelawney ever does anything but predict doom and gloom." "I study everything, Luc. You ought to know that by now. Divination just happens to be insubstantial enough that some form of guidance is required." Severus licked his quill and corrected a formula in his Arithmancy book. Lucius closed it. "I don't see why you even bother. You're far too pretty ever to need to work." He earned a sharp glare for his trouble. "Looks fade, Lucius. You'd do well to remember that." Malfoy snorted. "You'll have worked yourself to death by the time that happens." There was an odd, lilting note in his voice. He stroked Severus' cheek. "Speaking of fading, you're a bit pale. Sure you don't want me to smuggle you out?" "Fuck off, Malfoy. I have homework to do." "Hmph! If that's all my friendship means to you, then I will. Going to be out of here tonight?" "Tomorrow morning, I expect." "I'll see you in the morning, then?" "Most likely." Severus wished silently that Lucius would just leave. His normally smooth temper felt jagged. "Leave me alone, I'm busy." "There's gratitude for you." Malfoy stood up and stretched anyway. "Bye." Severus grunted. He didn't look up as Lucius walked out.   "Um... h-hi." Severus looked up from breakfast an hour after Madam Pomfrey let him go. Lucius, Adam, Nagendra, Evan, and Emeric all looked up, too, each giving Peter a look that ranged from pleased puzzlement to outright hatred. Peter wrung his hands nervously, shifting his feet so that the flesh around his middle swayed. "Where's your little pack, Pettigrew?" Lucius drawled. "Finally decide they didn't have room at your table?" Nagendra scowled; Adam, Evan, and Emeric chuckled. "N-n-no. They're..." Peter wiped his nose on his sleeve. He trembled. "They're busy," he whispered. For an instant his gaze landed on Severus. Severus mentally sighed. He needed to do something, lest he lose his spy. "Shut up, you lot. Can't you be civil for once?" "But..." Adam stammered, "but he's a Gryffindor, Severus! No offence, Nagendra." "Shut up, Adam." Naggy threw a corner of toast at Wilkes. It bounced off his head. "Hullo, Peter. Where're your friends?" "Oh. Um, James and Sirius are asleep, they had late detention." Severus smirked to himself. If only Peter knew how much suffering he'd caused his friends. "Remus is a bit poorly." No small wonder, that, with the full moon the night before. The Lupins had been tucked into bed just before Severus left that morning. "So what are you going to do about Potter's vicious attack on our Keeper, Pettigrew?" Lucius folded his arms and arched an eyebrow. Peter turned pale. He shuddered. "M'sorry," he mumbled. "He's not usually like that. He's qu-quite nice, really." "Not that we've ever seen." Emeric stuffed his mouth with sausage. Peter mumbled something. "You'll have to speak up if you want us to understand you, Pettigrew. Or are you too dim to enunciate?" Lucius smirked. "He just doesn't know you." Peter looked directly at Severus. "He'd like you if you only... y'know, got to know each other." The watery blue eyes pleaded silently. Bloody Hell, Pettigrew, this wasn't part of the agreement. Maybe that salve was a bit too strong. Or maybe Peter had a spine under all that blubber after all. "I don't fancy that happening soon," Snape said a bit more softly than he normally would. Peter drooped. "No. I suppose you're right. Um." He shifted. The bag on his shoulder was buried in a chasm of flesh again. "I need to finish some homework before class. G'bye." The Slytherin table murmured uneven farewells and Peter hurried off. Lucius nudged Severus. "What the fuck was that about?" "Maybe he's depressed I couldn't tutor last night. How should I know?" "Well, you're the one who spends all your time with him. I'm starting to think you're a Gryff lover. Next thing we know, you'll be spouting the virtues of Muggles." "Go fuck yourself, Malfoy." Snape stabbed a bit of tomato and gnawed absently. It probably should have bothered him that he had even less appetite than usual - had for a week or so, for that matter. It was probably nothing. He poked for a few minutes. "Can I talk to you, Snape?" He looked up. Severus' eyes widened to find Lily Evans standing at the end of the table. "What the Hell's going on here? A fucking Gryffindor convention?" Evans narrowed her eyes. "Fuck off, Malfoy." "You'd like to, wouldn't you?" Lucius leaned on his elbow, a slimy smirk across his face. "Yeah, right before I kill myself." She glared at him. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Snape? In private." Severus regarded her for a moment. "All right." He dragged himself up from the long bench and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Aren't you hungry, Severus?" Nagendra eyed his barely touched plate. He shook his head. "I'll see you later." A few rude comments and catcalls threatened to erupt from his end of the table. A sharp look silenced them. He adjusted his hat and followed Evans outside. It was a brisk, clear November morning. A few traces of frost still clung to the branches and windows that weren't fortunate enough to get the morning sun. Breath hung in white clouds as Evans led Severus to an isolated alcove between two defoliated hedges. "Listen, I only wanted to say I'm really sorry about what James did the other day." Snape straightened. He arched an eyebrow. "Really." She nodded. Green fire flashed in her eyes. "If I weren't, do you think I'd be apologising to you? I can't say I'm happy about what you did to him, but that's your job. A good Keeper's supposed to keep the other team from scoring, right?" "That's about it." A smirk threatened Severus' mouth. "Doesn't give him any right to knock you off your broom, especially if it takes you out of the match. How's your leg, by the way?" "It's fine." "That's good." They stood in uneasy silence for a moment. Evans shifted her bag higher on her shoulder. "Listen," she said, pulling a hand through her loose mess of ruddy hair, "if there's anything I can do to make up for him a little... I know it's not really my place, but he's so stubborn sometimes. Someone's got to uphold House honour." She smiled wryly. A spark fired in Severus' brain. Suddenly, Potter's payback seemed much clearer. "As a matter of fact," he said, "if you're not busy tonight I could use some help with Charms." She looked at him incredulously. "You're joking, right? Severus Snape, need help with homework?" He shrugged and took his hat off to run fingers through his silky hair. A few strands fell coyly across his face. "I have to work just as hard as anyone else, maybe even harder. I only want to make sure I understand this theory unit. It's not easy, always having to prove yourself." He smiled, playing with the hat's brim carefully. She peered at him. "Your parents are from India, right?" "Mum is, yeah. Why?" "No real reason. You sounded a little like Devi just now. Very humble. It's not something I ever expected to hear from you." Severus dropped his face a few degrees and let his eyes slide halfway closed in false humility. "Does that mean you'll help me?" Evans smiled. "All right. Tonight after dinner? James has detention again. It's his own fault, really, he and Sirius ought to know better." "What did they do?" She shook her head. "Nothing much, only tried to reconnect some pipes so the Gryffindor toilets ran into the Slytherin showers. Well, it would have been a lot to you, I'm not saying it's not a serious thing, but it's not like they were..." she trailed off, cheeks very red. Severus chuckled. "I understand." He leaned close. "Between you and me, I wouldn't mind seeing a few of those twits learn some humility." Large green eyes looked up at him mischievously. "You know, if I hadn't heard you a minute ago, I would have thought you were being sarcastic." He smiled. It gave him no small pleasure to see her pupils dilate just the slightest bit. "When you live in a den of serpents, you learn to play by their rules. That doesn't mean I believe in all of them." Of course, it doesn't mean I don't, either. Evans giggled. She covered her mouth with her fingers when she did so. "You're not so bad, Snape." "Music to my ears, from one so intelligent as you." She giggled again. "Shut up. I need to get to class. Meet you in the library around seven?" "Definitely." He bowed and, gently, took her hand. A slight brush of lips across the knuckles made her eyes go wide. She raised an eyebrow. Severus raised one in response. Evans smiled so her perfect white teeth showed in a thin line between her lips. She scurried away, glancing back with a wryly surprised smirk. Snape watched her go. His smile lingered. Yes, he'd have his revenge, and the best part was that Potter would never even know. Breaking Homes Evans was eliminated second round. Severus tied with Black for most correct answers. It wasn't a terribly great shock to see her go. It had taken several nights of tutoring to finally seduce her. The first, they worked on Charms until Lily decided that Severus was not only competent but excellent. She casually remarked that she needed help with Potions. Peter, apparently, had nothing but praise for Severus' tutoring abilities (Severus smirked at this piece of information), and Lily was simply sick of Dram's substandard instruction. The second, third, and fourth, all made easier by Potter's and Black's continued detentions on Pettigrew's unknowing part, were spent in the Potions classroom. The fifth... well, it started in the Potions classroom, developed into a walk to help clear Lily's head of cauldron fumes, and ended in the Gryffindor locker room. At her insistence. The inclusion of a backrub to ensure that she wouldn't break the news to anyone didn't do any harm. She asked why he carried massage gel with him; he said it was an experiment he'd not gotten around to filing away yet. There had been a bit less salve left than he'd thought, but given Peter's enormous quantities of flesh it was hardly a surprise. Afterwards, when the guilt struck and Severus held her for an hour while she cried, they agreed it couldn't happen again. Just to be safe, there would be no more tutoring sessions. Lily didn't trust herself not to repeat her atrocious actions. Severus even managed a few tears. It couldn't have gone better if he'd used an Imperius Curse. That night, after cleaning up the Potions room, Severus swaggered up to Lucius' bed, pushed back the curtains, and kissed his friend into the mattress. "I have just had the most incredible night of my life." Lucius raised his eyebrows. "Who?" "Evans." Lucius scowled. "Evans? Potter's girlfriend?" "Potter's fiance." Severus smirked, giving it a moment to sink in. Lily had shown him the ring that evening; James had only asked her Sunday, two days before. Malfoy's face broke into the widest, most vicious grin of which he was capable. "You slimy, cunning bastard," he said, eyes shining. "I'd have thought you'd prefer James." "That's what she said. I told her not to believe everything she hears." "Bra-vo." Occasionally, over the next couple of weeks, Severus would look across the Great Hall and catch Lily's eye. She would immediately look away and take Potter's hand. Of course, Peter would smile, thinking Severus was looking at him, and Severus would smile faintly back. Life was good. Damn, it was good to be the king.   The letter arrived December fifteenth, two days after the second round concluded. Severus stared, mouth gaping. You can't do this to me, you bastard! The parchment was stark and bland, emblazoned across the top with a simple, "Pescennius R. Snape, Senior Auror Second Class, Department of Magical Law Enforcement". Dear Severus, I fear that, given recent activities by Lord Voldemort, I am forced to rescind permission for you to visit the Malfoys over Christmas. I've already contacted Headmaster Dumbledore, and he has assured me that you're most welcome to remain there for the holiday. I regret to say that, given the recent danger, I would rather you be someplace safe than come home. Give the Malfoys our regards and regrets, and we will do everything we can to visit you. Yours, Dad Severus shook. He crushed the note in his fist and tugged on a robe. It flapped a bit as he stormed down the stairs, but he didn't care. In the common room, he plucked some Floo Powder from the mantle and threw it in. Kneeling, he stuck his head in the fire (all that the Floo here would allow through, to prevent students sneaking out). "The Blue House," he snapped. A few moments later he looked around. There was nobody in the sitting room. A large couch was pushed against the wall, and a steaming mug still sat on the table in front of it amidst parchments and folders. "DAD!" Severus roared. The door from the kitchen swung open and his father, broad and bulky and even taller than Severus, hurried in. His black Auror's robes were undone at the neck, revealing his plain white button-up shirt. He carried a plate of samosas. "Good evening, Severus. Samosa?" Pescennius held out the plate. "What's going on? Why can't I visit the Malfoys?" Pescennius regarded his son coolly. "You've heard about the killings in Leeds, I assume." "Yeah, everyone has. What's that got to do with me going home with Lucius?" "Lucius' family is predominantly..." Pescennius trailed off. He stuffed part of a samosa in his mouth. "Slytherin?" The word dripped from Severus' lips. "Yes." "Why do you hate me so much? Only because of my House?" "I don't hate you, son. I know how intelligent you are, and I'd rather that not be exploited by... questionable individuals." "So just because I'm not another fucking Hufflepuff-" "I will not have that sort of language used in my house." "Sorry." Severus pursed his lips. "It's not fair! Just because I wasn't a Hufflepuff I can't see my friends." "This has nothing to do with your House." Pescennius didn't sound entirely convinced. "If you would stop to see what sort of a shambles our world is falling into you'd understand why I don't want to see anything happen to my-" "YOU JUST DON'T WANT A SLYTHERIN IN THE FAMILY! YOU'RE ASHAMED OF ME! DON'T I WORK HARD ENOUGH FOR YOU? WHAT'S GOING TO MAKE YOU HAPPY, IF I WORK MYSELF TO DEATH?" "THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH!" Pescennius dropped his samosa. The plate went, forgotten, on the pile of papers. Like some sort of enormous predator, he stalked back and forth, glaring at his son with a hard, lined mouth. "You will show some respect in this house, young man, or you shan't be allowed back. Do I make myself clear?" Severus sulked. "Yes, Dad," he growled. "I have good reason not to let you leave school grounds for the time being. You should be grateful, actually. I considered rescinding your Hogsmeade pass as well, but I thought that it might cause undue friction. Despite what you might have convinced yourself to believe, I do, in fact, care about you. Your mother and I had a long talk and we decided that this is for the best." "Does that mean Raj and Hadrian aren't allowed home either, then?" "Raj and Hadrian are grown wizards with lives of their own." "So am I." Pescennius rubbed his eyes. "No, son, you're not. You're seventeen, and still in school. Once you leave you can do anything you want. Within reason," he hastily added. "What's that supposed to mean?" Severus' father fixed him with a hard gaze. "It's only that I don't want you taking any sort of path in life that might hurt you, or anyone else." "I'm not going to run off with Voldemort if that's what you're saying." Severus sneered. "Only, because I'm a Slytherin you think-" "It's not only because you're a Slytherin!" Pescennius crouched down in front of the fire. His mouth was twisted, and his green, flecked eyes were solemn. "Believe me, son, I'm doing this for your own good." "Kenny?" A dark head peered around the open doorway leading to the hall. "I thought I heard-oh, Ajit!" Gita grinned broadly at her youngest. In a moment it turned mournful. "You got the owl, then?" "Yes, Mum." Severus tilted his eyes down slightly. He'd not dare treat his father with such deference. "Why can't I come home?" She came to crouch before the fire like her husband. "Ajit... Muaf keejeeye." I'm sorry. "It's too dangerous. There's so much happening, we don't want anyone to get... ideas." "Gita," Pescennius whispered sharply. He scowled. "What are you two not telling me?" Severus mirrored his father's scowl. "Nothing important. Let your mother and I deal with it." "What? Am I going to be dragged in and interrogated for my House?" "I already told you, Severus, this has nothing to do with your House. And take that hat off. It looks ridiculous." "I like my hat!" Severus tilted his chin defiantly. "Listen to your father, Ajit." Gita reached forward as if to touch Severus' face. Her slender fingers darted back before they reached the flames. "You look thin. Are you eating enough?" "Yes, Mum." Her dark brows rose and knitted. "Are you sleeping? You're pale." "I sleep too much, Mum. What are you not telling me?" Her hands fluttered. "Nothing to concern yourself with." Her heavily accented voice was soft. Any other time it would have been soothing. "Mum, please? It can't be that bad." "So it's nothing to worry about." Her bright smile was a bit haggard. "Severus, go on back. We'll come for Christmas. Raj and Hadrian want to see you, and Ananda's been asking after you. The little ones beg to visit you nonstop." Pescennius looked a bit tired at his son's presence. "So you're just going to bring the whole herd?" Two parents, two brothers, two sisters-in-law, three nephews, two nieces, and a jobberknoll in a pear tree made up the immediate Snape clan; god forbid Severus' cousins and aunts and uncles and grandmother and whatever other relatives he had show themselves. There weren't enough seats in the Great Hall if they wanted to stay for supper! "Only Raj and Hadrian and their families. Your nan's decided to stay home this year." Pescennius still looked grim, but no longer as focused. "Can I go visit her? I don't think Voldemort's going to New Delhi anytime soon." "This has nothing to do with... him." Gita didn't sound convinced. "Then why would what he's been doing be a problem? Really, Mum, why do I have to stay here? It's not logical." She shook her head. "It's nothing, Ajit. Honestly. Don't worry yourself." "Come on. It's not as if The Ministry's got a dossier on me." Severus tried his brightest smile. His parents went quiet. Pescennius shifted uncomfortably. Gita inspected the back of her hand. "The Ministry's got a dossier on me." Silence. "You didn't tell me." Gita murmured something under her breath and got to her feet. She gave her son an apologetic look before hurrying into the kitchen. Pescennius still crouched in silence. He ran a hand through his thick, brown hair. "It's nothing for you to worry about. We only don't want people to get ideas in case anything... happens." Severus blinked. He stared at his father, at the severe profile he'd inherited. "You think I'm one of them." Pescennius shook his head. "We never said-" "Bollocks!" "Language!" Pescennius' mouth was knotted, his eyes trembling with the rest of him. "Maybe you're right, you're old enough to hear this," he hissed. "After all, you'll be eighteen in less than a month. It'll be your responsibility then. The Ministry's had a dossier on you since you were eleven years old, Severus." "Why?" "Ridiculous charges. Someone said you performed the Cruciatus Curse on a toad to impress your House. There are officials who take that sort of claptrap seriously. Your mother and I didn't want you to find out because we knew it would go to your head. You might try it." Severus trembled. His fingers clawed at the Slytherin hearth. "How do you know I didn't?" he spat. "Where would you learn that much about the Dark Arts? You're not even a trained wizard." "I learned it from you." Pescennius froze. "That's not funny, Severus." "It's not supposed to be, Pescennius." Snape narrowed his eyes. "What do you think I was doing my whole life? Every time I asked you anything you told me to look it up! You're not an Auror for nothing, you know. You've got one Hell of a library." "Hold your tongue." Pescennius frowned and pointed a sharp finger at his son. "I won't have those sorts of lies in this house." "No, but you'll all but teach me the Dark Arts, then deny doing it." Pescennius leaned close to the fire. His red face reflected the flame, and he looked more monster than man. "How dare you insult me like that. After everything we've done for you-" "Like what?" Severus snarled. "We've given you more freedom than was good for you. If this is how you're going to repay us, maybe it's time to take some of it back! We denied your grandfather's dying wish that we find you a nice, suitable bride. It's not too late-" "Maybe I don't want a bride." "Why not? So you can go gallivanting around with half the girls at Hogwarts?" "What makes you think I'm gallivanting around with the girls?" Flecks of spittle flew from Severus' mouth and hissed in the fire. He knew perfectly well what he was saying, and what the consequences would be, but he was long past caring. Pescennius' eyes went wide. "Don't lie to me, Severus." His deep voice was shaky. "It would kill your mother if she heard you." "Then don't tell her. You're certainly good at not telling people important things. And I'm not lying. I like shagging boys." A green eye twitched. "Get out." "Send me my things and you'll never have to see me again." Pescennius sneered. "You don't have any things here. If you're going to run about like some sort of deviant you've got no place in this family." "I want my books. I paid for them." "And I'm repossessing them. Consider it repayment for everything we wasted on you! Get out of my hearth, and if I ever see your face again I'll tear it apart." "Dad!" "Don't 'Dad' me! You will leave, now, or I will remove you." He reached for a large bucket and charmed it full of water. "You'll be gone by the time I count three. One... two..." Severus pulled his head out of the fire and shook the soot off. Stiff, quivering like a harp string, fists clenched and hat askew, he stormed upstairs. Lucius was stretched out, holding some blood and guts novel over his face. He jumped when the door slammed. "What crawled up your arse and died?" "The bastard that calls himself my father. I'm not allowed to come to your house for Christmas anymore. Oh, and he kicked me out." Lucius dropped his book and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "How come?" "The Ministry's got a dossier on me. Someone squealed about that fucking toad!" He smirked bitterly to himself. "And I told him I'm queer. Didn't seem to take it very well." "Why'd you do a stupid thing like that?" "He wanted to set me up with an arranged bride. I'd rather eat bubotubers." "No shit." Lucius shook his head and settled back on the bed. "That sucks, Sev. Your dad's such a fucking prat." "I don't need you to tell me." Snape pulled on his cloak. He didn't quite know what he was going to do, but the close walls of the dungeon were oppressive. It grated on his soul and withered his intestines. "I'm going for a walk. If anyone asks, I'll be back later." Severus didn't wait for Malfoy's answer. Hat firmly on his head and cloak tight around his shoulders, he stormed out of the dormitory, down the corridor (where he yelled at a pair of first year Ravenclaws and deducted five points each for loitering), and out the front doors of the castle. Snow was falling, and didn't look like it would stop anytime soon. A frigid wind gnawed through the cracks of his cloak and chewed on his bare fingers. Severus pulled the cloth tighter around him and went to find a hedge to hide behind. It wasn't as if he were completely queer. He'd slept with girls before - Lily Evans wasn't the first by far. They'd always been a means to an end, or a bit of scientific curiosity, or posturing, or, in one case, pure vengeance. He'd enjoyed it as an ego boost if nothing else. It wouldn't matter to Pescennius Snape and his pristine moral code, though. For a moment, Severus considered mentioning Hadrian's term-long fling with Christopher Hardesty. It wouldn't do him any good, though. He sat quietly on a stone bench hidden by naked rosebushes, hugging his knees and watching flakes of snow fall in the dim evening light. The pregnant clouds and their offspring, doomed as soon as the temperature rose, took every particle of light and volleyed it. The resulting glow felt impossibly close, and yet infinite. Severus wondered if his mother or his brothers were watching it. He doubted he'd ever see them again. A snowflake tickled his cheek. Severus reached up to brush it aside, only to find a rapidly cooling bead of liquid running down his face instead. He shoved it away, only to be met with another, and another, until they flowed steadily and he could only hide them in his crossed arms. The holy silence of a snowy evening was shattered by low, wracking sobs. "Are you okay?" A small, soft voice made Severus jerk his head up. He looked around frantically to find Romulus Lupin watching him with a furrowed brow. "I'm fine," he spat. "You don't look it. Can I help?" "I don't need any help from you, werewolf." The boy's pale skin turned ash white. He squeaked, and ran off between the hedges. Severus watched him as long as he could before burying his face in the safety and comfort of his robe. Tears gradually ran dry. The salt they left itched his eyes, his skin, but Snape didn't care. He didn't know how long he sat there - minutes, maybe an hour - before another set of footsteps came up behind him. "Leave my brother alone," Remus Lupin snarled. "Tell him to mind his own fucking business." Severus refused to turn around, refused to let Lupin see the salty trails dried on his face. A hand grabbed his shoulder and jerked him upright. Snape's head tipped back, and for an instant he wondered if Lupin could transform into the snarling beast at will. "I'm going to tell you this once, Snape. You will not scare Romulus like that. You will not call him anything but his name. If I hear that you've called him that one more time, I will hunt you down and I will make sure you suffer for the rest of your worthless life. Do you understand?" "Never knew you were such an alpha, Lupin." Those gentle eyes narrowed, burning with rage. Lupin raised a hand, sneering. At its apex it stopped. He let it drop. "No," he whispered. "You're not worth it, you son of a bitch." Lupin let go and stalked backwards, watching his almost-victim intently until he had to vanish behind a hedge. Severus buried his face in his arms again. When he awoke, his fingers were blue. He didn't feel any better for going numb. Hindi As Far As I Can Tell Muaf keejeeye: I'm sorry Go on to the fourth part of the story   :: HOME:: BY AUTHOR :: BY PAIRING :: LINKS :: LINK TO US :: SSF UPDATE LIST :: VISIT OTHER SSF SHIPS ::