Author: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - ?
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Two: -Voldemort has a plan. To make it work, he needs his most loyal Death Eaters and their progeny. After a vicious attack, two Slytherins must decide if blood is thicker than potions.
The Malfoy Mansion was a bleak and dismal place, built centuries ago during a time when opulence and pomp warred with good taste. It was painfully obvious which had won here. Long corridors and low ceilings in the levels closer to the ground. Huge ballrooms and dining halls in upper levels. Almost every surface possible was gilded. The glow of the torches multiplied by the warm gold.
Probably the only warm thing in the whole house. Unlike Hogwarts, that glowed with a warm welcome, this place almost oozed coldness and malevolence. Not a place one would visit gladly.
Snape's eyes were hurting. Still he kept staring straight ahead, following the path set out by the guttering torches.
He reached the end of the corridor, finally finding himself in a large hall. Even with his love for dungeons, he was happy to find himself out of the seemingly endless maze of the basement. There were too many painful memories here, too many dark secrets only a few men alive knew of.
Severus Snape wished he wasn't one of them.
It had been a long time since he'd last slept. He wasn't certain what time it was. Or what day. He remembered arriving at the Malfoy Mansion early on Saturday afternoon. After that, it was a blur.
All the Death Eaters had been there, shivering and cowering before their Master. The usual prostrating had been brief this time, at least for Snape. He'd been whisked away to the familiar laboratory, to test some samples. He didn't need to be told whose blood was in the small vial he'd been handed.
He'd been spared all the 'fun' the Death Eaters had been having. The sounds of laughter and screams of pain had wafted even down to the basement. Snape had ignored all sounds, concentrating on his work.
It had been a long evening, and an even longer night. He was testing the blood he'd been given against certain potions, seeking to find out if it was safe to use various truth potions on their prisoner. It had been a gruesome task to calculate exactly how much poisons the bloodstream could handle before the person died in agony.
Snape had worked diligently, pushing away everything but this duty. It was a necessity. His part in this senseless drama.
Hours had passed as he'd mixed his potions. He'd managed to sleep for two hours as the shrivelfig was soaking in the goat milk. Other than that, he'd been working constantly.
Now it was over. He had given his full report to Voldemort, and had blessedly been dismissed.
The worst part was still ahead, he feared.
Standing alone in the vast hall, Snape wondered where to go next. He wanted nothing but to find a bed and sleep for hours. The basement of the mansion was not designed for brewing potions, and the stagnant air had made his eyes water as he'd worked over the hot cauldrons.
Cleaning up sounded marvelous as well. Getting something to eat would be almost as good.
He wouldn't be able to listen to the needs of his aching body yet. He had a message to deliver. The sooner he found the owner of the house, the sooner he could rest.
Turned out he didn't need to go looking for the man. The sound of boots hitting cold stone came from one of the corridors, followed by a short silence.
"Well?"
Snape turned to see Lucius Malfoy standing there. He'd rarely seen the always so sophisticated man look so anxious. This time there was a valid reason for such an emotion. If what he heard was right, most of Lucius' future depended on this. "I tested the sample."
"I know that." Cold voice held only a hint of fear in it. Lucius' face contorted in annoyance. "What did it reveal?"
The most annoying part of the test had been the fact that Snape had been completely certain of the outcome. "She has taken the Ueraciter Tutis serum. I'm sorry, Lucius." He wasn't really.
Lucius didn't show his disappointment. His gaze icy, he asked, "Are you absolutely sure it would work."
"Yes." Of course Snape was sure. He'd made the potion himself. It had been a difficult one to make, even more difficult to hand to people he didn't completely detest.
But it was a good precaution.
He hadn't liked it when Dumbledore had asked him to brew the potion for him and a couple of other members of the Order. It was one of the nastiest potions he knew; one that would react badly if the person who'd ingested it was forced to drink veritaserum. It would cause an instant and messy death.
To his knowledge, only five people alive had taken the potion. Four of them only recently; Albus, Minerva, Mundungus and Arabella. Most of the others didn't even know such a potion existed.
It was a big decision to make, to be willing to sacrifice oneself to protect the others. The serum wasn't fool proof. Some charms detecting lies would still work, but no one would be able to make a person under its influence spill every truth out.
An excellent protection for a spy who might one day be caught by those he spied upon.
Lucius let out a deep sigh at that. He'd known it was a gamble, but it still stung to lose. With his Master, it was quite probable that dignity wouldn't be the only thing he lost. This complicated things. "I see."
"Our Master is waiting for you." Deciding not to comment on their prisoner's condition, Snape winced as his stomach made a rather inappropriate sound. "While you're seeing him, might I be so bold as to..."
"Yes, yes." Waving impatiently at the corridors on the left, Lucius cut the sentence. "Victor will take you to the kitchen. I'm certain the house elves will get you something to eat."
Snape wasn't at all surprised to see Crabbe Sr. step out of the shadows. It was such a familiar sight, he rarely even thought about either generation of Malfoys without their silent companions. A shame really. He knew Vincent and Gregory were abysmal students, but was certain they wouldn't be quite that bad without years of conditioning.
Not paying any attention to his fellow Death Eater, Lucius brushed past Snape and strode to the corridor leading to the basement. He was followed by the huge form of the elder Goyle.
"The kitchen is this way," Crabbe mumbled. He guided Snape to the cavernous kitchen, not bothering to dodge the scurrying house elves. It was clear he didn't care if some of them got trampled under his big feet.
Snape bit his tongue to keep the scathing words unsaid. He knew where the kitchens were; it wasn't like this was his first visit to the mansion. He knew this was Lucius' way of showing him his superiority and mistrust.
It was a part of a foolish game they had been playing for years. The Malfoys had always been rich and powerful. The Snapes had not been elite, but they were purebloods, one of the older wizarding families. Their rivalry had always been subtle, Snapes usually showing allegiance to the more powerful House.
Lucius had always reveled in Snape's quiet withdrawal. Especially during the years of Voldemort's absence, it had amused him to pay visits to Hogwarts, shoving his position on the board of governors down the simple Potions master's throat. It was somewhat different now.
This whole scheme wasn't going on very well. It was clear whom Voldemort would blame. It certainly wasn't the simple Potions master who had only done his job, and done it well.
Snape didn't even try to hide the smile that curled up his upper lip.
The house elves at the mansion all looked scared, running around in eerie silence, bringing the two Death Eaters enough food to feed a small army. Snape was grateful of the fact. He was absolutely starving. It was good that Crabbe was about as loquacious as the house elves. He didn't want to hear idiotic stuttering right now.
About half an hour later, the door to the kitchen opened, and a slightly disheveled looking Goyle sneaked in. He looked relieved as the door slammed shut behind him, as if he was hiding from someone.
It wasn't all that difficult to guess from whom.
"What happened?" Lowering a small cake he'd been nibbling at, Crabbe looked up to his friend.
Goyle's gaze moved from him to Snape and then to the feast on the table. He stepped closer to the table, but then seemed to change his mind. "Our lord was not pleased with lord Malfoy."
The title made Snape raise an eyebrow. He chose not to say anything.
"He... He said some things to him. I didn't really... Um... Hear them, but he sounded angry." Goyle would rather die than admit that he didn't understand what had been said in front of a professor. Snape had always been brainy, and sometimes Goyle couldn't help feeling uncomfortable in his presence.
Crabbe nodded. It was familiar to him. Their lord seemed angry all the time now, but the anger wasn't often directed at lord Malfoy. It was a frightening thought.
"So he said something about going back to the house. Took lord Malfoy with him."
That made Snape look up, his expression blank. "He took Lucius with him?" Seeing the nod, he mused out loud, "I wonder what he wants me to do now."
Good thing he said that. Goyle had almost forgot. "Oh, he said you should help us interrogate the prisoner, even though he doubts she will talk. Then we should leave the body somewhere they'll find it. And you go home." He had to close his eyes to remember all details correctly.
Sometimes lord Voldemort's plans were so darn complicated. He was certain he'd remembered right this time.
Snape didn't let any of his emotions show on his face. Of course. He had anticipated this. It was surprising Voldemort himself hadn't stayed to witness the whole thing. Such spectacles were usually his greatest joy, and he took great pleasure in watching his Death Eaters torture others.
He wanted to refuse, wanted to walk away right now no matter how impossible a dream it was. He would not do anything to cause displeasure to the Dark Lord.
Suddenly he didn't have any of his appetite left. "All right. Perhaps you should show me where she's being held." Cool, clipped tones.
Goyle was busy stuffing a small cake into his mouth, and he took his time chewing and swallowing before he said, "Don't you need to rest first? You spent awfully long in the laboratory. I could show you to a guest room."
The only reply he got was a cold stare.
"Or I could show you where we're keeping her." It was clear now why Gregory was in awe of his professor. Snape certainly could look chilling.
Snape stood up slowly. His body ached all over, and he wanted nothing more than to go to bed, but even the thought of sleep was impossible now. He would only spend hours staring into darkness, wondering what was happening to Minerva while he rested.
Perfectly aware of the tastes of his fellow Death Eaters, he knew a cruciatus flung at her and then a merciful death would a bliss.
"Show me." He motioned at the door.
The journey through the corridors was long. Crabbe and Goyle both walked ahead, as they headed back towards the basement.
Snape tried to detach himself from what he was doing. He refused to think of anything beyond this moment, not lingering in the past either. His mind kept repeating his usual mantra. He was Severus Snape, the Potions master of Hogwarts. A former Death Eater, current spy. He owed his life to... He skipped that part over, jumping straight to; The Order must survive. He would do anything for the Order.
It didn't really help. With every step his feet grew heavier, more reluctant to walk towards the small room they were heading to. He could already hear laughter and screaming.
So much screaming.
"Here we are." Goyle looked delighted as they reached the door. It was a heavy wooden one, designed to keep people locked in. He didn't hesitate at all, but pushed the door open.
He and Crabbe walked straight in. Snape on the other hand stood by the door, closing it behind him. He tried to justify his hesitation by the need to get his eyes adjusted to the light, knowing it was a lie.
There were about half a dozen robed men standing in the room. Some had their masks on, others had opted to go without. After all, their Master wasn't present, and those damn things were extremely uncomfortable. A few turned to see who had entered, but as soon as they saw the silent trio, they turned their attention back to the woman lying on the floor.
Snape watched as Crabbe walked slowly towards their prisoner. He didn't even flinch as the man raised his wand and cast a very clumsy cruciatus.
A shrill scream filled the room, the agonized sound breaking a moment later as Minerva McGonagall convulsed on the floor, trying to escape the overwhelming pain. Her long grey hair was obscuring her face, her robes torn and filthy. It was quite obvious the Death Eaters had been having fun that night.
Crabbe lowered his wand. "I like the way she screams."
On the floor, McGonagall twitched a few times before lying still. She took deep breaths before lifting a shaking hand to brush her hair out of her face. Somehow she managed to cast a look of pure contempt on her tormentor.
The words made Snape want to punch Crabbe. He locked the emotion away. It was time for him to play his part. Walking slowly out of the shadows, he approached their prisoner. "It's definitely better than her endless yapping about her Gryffindors." His tone a low purr, oozing with malice.
"Severus?" Fighting to focus her gaze, McGonagall lifted her head, looking up at her colleague. "Severus?"
Snape hoped she was still in control of her emotions. "Good evening, Minerva. Imagine my surprise seeing you here." His mind was racing even as he uttered the lines.
There was only one exit from the room, no way to get past the Death Eaters. Minerva wouldn't be able to escape, even if she had a wand. She looked barely able to sit up. He knew there wouldn't be a cavalry coming any time soon. The Order wasn't ready for an open war against the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Lives would be lost for nothing.
Keeping that in mind, he crouched next to McGonagall, grabbing her hair and tilting her head back. He smiled at the long cut on her cheek, hearing Crabbe and Goyle snicker on the background. "You have something on your face." That made the other Death Eaters laugh as well.
McGonagall blinked. "But how..." It looked as if she realized something, for her expression changed from confused into enraged. "You traitor!"
"Depends on the point of view, really." Snape was grateful of her quick mind. Not that he'd ever tell her that. Not that he'd ever have a chance to tell her that. "You Gryffindors always see everything in black and white."
The Death Eaters laughed at that, a sound that seemed to echo in the small room forever.
It wasn't as if Snape didn't realize his own words proved the narrowmindedness of the Death Eaters -- especially the Slytherins -- as well. He was certain he was the only one to appreciate the irony.
McGonagall muttered something, her voice too quiet for anyone to hear. There was a steely look in her eyes, and Snape knew she wanted to tell him something, but couldn't with all the others listening. Tightening his hold on the grey mane of hair, he leaned down a bit.
"Tell Albus to continue the fight till you kill the bastard." It was whispered with determination.
As Snape lifted his head, he could see forgiveness in McGonagall's gaze. It made him swallow hard. Not an emotion people usually showed him. Only one person had ever really forgiven him; Albus Dumbledore.
Before her old colleague could say anything, McGonagall raised her head and spat on Snape. She managed a broken laughter, watching his face darken as spittle ran down his cheek. "Traitor!"
Some of the Death Eaters muttered something at that, surprised the old bag still had the strength to do that. It would have been quite amusing to test her resolve, to find her breaking point. They all knew that it would have been simply the matter of time until she cried and begged to be killed. Too bad they wouldn't be able to do that. Snape was already whipping his wand out, and by the look on his face, there was only one curse in his mind right now.
Snape's gaze was unreadable as he stared at McGonagall. He thought of how the two of them had always been natural enemies. The Head of Slytherin and the Head of Gryffindor. Minerva with her ridiculous interpretation of rules. Her incomprehensible trust and hope in people.
Her utter devotion in her job, her total loyalty towards Albus Dumbledore. His most trusted ally. It probably went far beyond that.
He remembered the way Albus had suddenly seemed to age before his eyes when they heard of her disappearance. Every person had their limits, and even though the death of Minerva McGonagall wouldn't kill the Headmaster, his eyes would lose their twinkle, and he'd start looking his true age.
The Order was more than just one man; it was the only thing standing between the wizarding world and Voldemort, the one thing keeping everyone safe. They needed all the information he could get, so he could not let the Death Eaters find out he was a spy. Couldn't risk hundreds of lives because of one. He had only one choice right now, one thing to do.
It would be mercy, not murder. He knew what would happen to Minerva if he simply left. She'd be tortured for countless of hours until she'd beg to be killed. There would be unimaginable pain and humiliation, and it wouldn't stop until there was nothing left of her mind.
Snape held his wand firmly. Two simple words. Determination behind them. That was all it would take. He knew it was the only way. She knew it as well, closing her eyes against the green sparks.
Avada Kedavra. Avada Kedavra. Avada Kedavra. Avada Kedavra...
He was glad she wasn't looking at him anymore. The clear intelligent gaze would only remind him of things he couldn't afford to think right now. Of the compassion Dumbledore had shown him as he'd crawled to Hogwarts years ago, seeking for some kind of a redemption. His fears and pain after realizing what he'd done, years of self loathing; those passed and those yet to come.
Pushing all thoughts away, he concentrated on the curse.
Avada Kedavra. Avada Kedavra. Avada Kedavra...
Not the first time he used the Unforgivable. He remembered thinking about the killing curse long ago, before he had any blood on his hands. He'd always thought it was a rather easy way to die. Also an easy way to kill. What an idiot he'd been. There was nothing easy about staring your colleague in the face when you were about to kill her.
Wouldn't have been much easier if she'd been an enemy. As a Death Eater, he'd indeed been a failure. Killing wasn't something he'd ever enjoyed.
Avada Kedavra. Avada Kedavra...
It was now or never. The sneer he forced on his lips probably looked more like a grimace of pain, but it didn't matter. The twinkle in Albus Dumbledore's eyes didn't matter and neither did all the Gryffindors who would mourn McGonagall's death.
There would be nightmares, and days he spent walking around Hogwarts like a ghost. His empty quest for some kind of a redemption was going to damn his soul forever.
But there was nothing he could do to change what had to happen. His words to Harry had been a lie. A cruel joke fate was now playing on him. Sometimes, there was no choice.
Snape stood up slowly, his wand pointing at McGonagall's heart. Ignoring every excuse his mind was conjuring up, he ground out, "Avada..."
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Date: 2006-05-08 06:41 pm (UTC);__;
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Date: 2006-05-08 07:22 pm (UTC)Poor McGonagall. She's always been one of my favorite characters and it was kinda hard to treat her so bad... But no, you're not mad or delusional hoping she'll survive; I guess you're a Gryffindor. :D
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Date: 2006-05-08 08:21 pm (UTC)Now, I don't know if that's a compliment or not what with all the people who think Gryffindors are foolish *cough*snape*cough* ;)
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Date: 2006-05-08 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-08 09:25 pm (UTC)Hmmm... I guess it was a compliment... Even though the inner Snape disagrees. Then again he likes McGonagall too and no one would ever call him a Gryffindor.....
*smile*
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Date: 2006-05-08 09:28 pm (UTC)*hides*
Glad you're enjoying the story. More to come. And then some...
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Date: 2006-05-08 09:35 pm (UTC)I am, a lot. I found it the other day and I'm pretty leary about Snape stories because many people always have him OOC and that's just annoying. But I really like your Snape.
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Date: 2006-05-09 10:10 am (UTC)The thing about Snape is that he's already difficult to keep 'canon' with those two canon Snapes we have; the total bastard in the books and the sexy bastard in the movies. I have the good fortune to write him in futureverse that somewhat differs from the canon line so I have some leeway, but no fear, the happy fluffy haired smiling Slytherin sex god will not be making his appearance in this fic.
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Date: 2006-05-09 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-09 10:34 am (UTC)Ahem... Of course there are more than one way Snape might deal with the situation. He's not the HBP in this fic after all... But no matter what he does, they're all screwed. Or something.
/mysterious
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Date: 2006-05-09 08:29 pm (UTC)