Summer 8:   Part D

     

“Are you finished?”

Snape’s eye twitched, but he refused to look up and dignify that question with a response yet again.

“I’m bored.  I’ve nothing to do and I’ve been locked up here for a month.  I want to go and see Harry.  Why couldn’t I have stayed with him?  I’m sure it would have been just as safe.”

Snape closed his eyes and took a very deep breath before opening them again, still refusing to look up.

“Are you even listening to me?”

After he had killed Dumbledore, Snape had wanted a great many things.  He had wanted to lock himself away for eternity or, better yet, blast himself into the nether world and be done with all the sodding mess he’d dealt with his entire life and that wasn’t to say that Snape was given to flights of drama, but he’d just killed the only man that he had ever looked up to - the one man that had protected him and trusted him and believed in him and if there was one thing that was going to send him over the edge, it might as well be that.  However, suicide, no matter how tempting, was not an option.  He had done all that because Dumbledore wanted to ensure that he would be around to protect Potter, so be around he must.  Not that he had to be happy about it.

“Good gods, but you’re boring.  Don’t you ever want to do anything besides sit there and read?  You’re worse than Harry.  In fact, the two of you would make a marvelous couple, sitting in chairs and reading all day.”

Snape closed his eyes again and counted to ten.  Potter had not been the only person he was supposed to protect.   There had also been Draco.  The plan had been laid out for him and once the deed had been done, everything else had gone easily.  Take Draco somewhere safe for a few hours.  Go to the Dark Lord, tell him that the boy escaped from him, accept punishment, and then ask that he be granted a favor for having killed Dumbledore.

“My lord, I ask that you allow me some respite from that twitchy little rat you’ve installed in my home.”

Voldemort had nearly smiled, but it had been a placating, ugly thing.  “Pettigrew, my dear Severus?  Whatever has he done?”

“Nothing, my lord, I simply value my privacy.”

It was such a little thing to ask for having done such a great task and as Severus had predicted, it was granted without further question and with Pettigrew gone, he had retrieved Draco and brought him back to the moderate safety of his home.  That was when it had begun.

“What is that smell?  It smells like… like dust.  I didn’t know dust had a smell.  Dear Merlin, this place is filthy!  You can’t possibly expect me to stay here.  I’ll choke to death on the air, it’s positively rancid.”

“You call this food?  This bread is like a rock and what is this… peanut butter?  What’s peanut butter and why would anyone want to eat it?  There’s absolutely no texture whatsoever and it’s sticking to the roof of my mouth.  Don’t you have anything palatable?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.  I’m to sleep in here?  It smells like a wet rat and these sheets are filthy, when was the last time they were washed?   Not to mention the state of that quilt.   I’ll freeze to death before the end of the week.”

At Hogwarts and at Malfoy manor, everything had always been taken care of by the house elves.  They had cooked dinner, they had cleaned his quarters, they had made sure that everything was in the most pristine of conditions and Snape had not, until the very moment Draco walked into his home, realized exactly how spoiled the boy was.

“Maybe I should redecorate.  A little color would really brighten this place up.  Mother was always changing the color of the walls and I think I remember the spell for it.  I think maybe pastel pink or maybe something in a baby blue…”

Snape looked up sharply, just managing to restrain himself from throwing the volume he was holding at the boy laying sprawled out on his floor.  “I will thank you to keep your spells off my walls.”

Draco pouted, “I thought you weren’t listening.  Besides, with your furnishings, I’d hardly go pastel.  If anything, I’d do a sage green.”

“You will do nothing.”

Draco sat up and swiveled so that he was facing Snape.  “I’m hungry.”

“Fix yourself something, then.  There’s plenty to eat in the kitchen.”

“There isn’t plenty, there’s peanut butter, stale biscuits, and some tins in the cupboard that have been there for so long the labels have worn off.  I want food, Snape.   Real food and I want clean clothes, too.”

“You have clean clothes.”

Draco glared, “No, I have the same clothes I’ve been wearing every day for a month, they’ve just been scowered until they turned gray.”

At least Potter had been quiet, in fact, most days when it was just Potter and Severus in the dungeons, Severus had often forgotten the boy was even there.  Come to think of it, Potter really did only get into trouble when Draco was around.  Well, then and during the school year, but Snape did grudgingly agree that more often than not, trouble found him, he was just too curious to let it lay.

“Furthermore, I will have you know that my socks have…”

“If you can not keep your mouth closed for five bloody minutes, I will be forced to lock you in a closet and leave you there for the remainder of your stay.”

Draco closed his mouth at the sudden outburst and Snape wondered, for the briefest of moments, if perhaps he had finally succeeded in intimidating the boy into silence.  Then Draco opened his mouth again.  “How long would that be?”

Snape took a steadying breath and looked back down at the book, trying to ignore the whining boy, who had thrown himself onto his back on the floor once again, because he refused to sit on the dusty, moth-eaten furniture.

“This isn’t fair, you have to tell me or I’ll simply burst.  How much longer do I have endure this… this hell?  You’ve been hinting that it won’t be long for the past two weeks.  Well, I’ve got news for you, two weeks is a bloody long ti…”

His rant was interrupted (thank, god) by a knock on Snape’s front door.  “Severus, open the door this instant!”

Oh, bloody hell, it was Lucius.  Standing up, he took Draco by the arm and dragged him across the small living room to one of the walls covered in books.  Moving several large volumes aside, he grasped a handle and opened a door to a small coat closet behind.

Draco looked at him incredulously.  “I didn’t know this was here!”

Snape scowled, because glaring didn’t work on the boy.   “There are a great many things you do not know.  Now close your mouth and keep quiet.”

Without another word, he closed the door and cast a silencing charm on it before heading towards the booming sounds of Lucius' knocking.  Giving his robes a quick straighten, he slipped an annoyed expression onto his face (not all that hard to do, considering) and opened the door.  “What the hell are you…”

He stopped abruptly as he saw what was standing in front of him.  Dark, messy hair, wide, bright green eyes, far too pale skin, and bony hands sticking out of a too-big jumper.   It was the little whore.  “What is this?”

Lucius grinned, “I need someone to take care of my pet here for a few days.”

The boy’s head was tilted towards the ground, but his eyes were staring up at Snape through his lashes, apprehensive.  “Really, Lucius, you have so much fun with him, I can’t imagine why you would want to relinquish custody, even for a short time...”

The grin turned feral and Lucius licked the side of the boy’s neck.  Even after years of abuse the child still flinched at contact.  “Let’s just say that I have my hands full taking care of the real thing.  Besides, Severus, you always did say that you preferred a more private setting for your intimate affairs and you could hardly get more private than your own home.  Consider it a gift.”

He had Potter.  Potter had been captured and he was at Malfoy Manor, or at least under Lucius’ care.   This was bad.  The thought flashed across his mind even as Lucius pressed the boy forward and he took each step with shaky legs, sinking to his knees in front of Severus and keeping his head respectfully bowed.  This was ridiculous and yet… and yet he’d never had such a blatant opportunity to rescue the child from the never-ending nightmare.  Not to mention that if he didn’t except, it might look suspicious and if he were going to save Potter from whatever fate Lucius had in store, he would need the man’s trust.  Good god, if he weren’t careful, his hero complex would rival even Potter’s.  Perhaps the sorting hat was right - he really should have been in Gryffindor.

To Severus silence, Lucius sighed and crossed his arms over his chest in obvious annoyance.   “Oh, fine, Severus, please will you babysit him?  I left him Avery for two weeks and I'm lucky he's still walking.”

“Very well, I shall ‘babysit’ for you.”

With a wicked grin, Lucius nodded and reached forward, ruffling the cringing boy’s hair, and pushing him down so that his hands rested on the ratty rug at Severus's feet.   “Be good for Severus, pet.  If I hear that you’ve misbehaved, I’ll have to punish you.”

A shudder ran down the boy’s spine, visible even through the heavy jumper.  Raising a knowing eyebrow to Snape, he turned around and left, closing the door firmly behind him.  It was several seconds before Snape could fully comprehend what was going on and when he did, he said something that would have shocked the whole of Hogwarts, although it garnered no reaction from the boy at his feet – he cursed.

“Fuck.”  Potter was captured.   He had been given the whore to watch after and he had to find somewhere to put him, somewhere he would be safe.  As much as he would like to go to Hogwarts, he didn’t think his reception there would be well received, no matter who he brought with him.  He also had to find some way to get into Malfoy Manor and save Potter, yet again.  “Bloody fuck.”

Of course, there was also Draco… oh, yes, Draco was locked in the closet.  He flicked his wand behind him, releasing the silencing charm and unlocking the door.

Draco felt the wards lift and threw open the door, fully intending to tell Snape exactly what he thought of the state of that closet - it had not only been dusty, but it had smelled funny and there been moth eaten coats and Draco was fairly sure that something had started to crawl up his leg at one point.  His rant, however, was stopped before it even started by the sight of Harry on his hands and knees in front of Snape.  Not that there was anything sexual about it, Harry’s back was achingly straight, his head was tipped down and… wait a minute.

Draco stepped closer and Harry lifted his head, looking at Draco with only mild interest.  Problem was, that it wasn’t Harry.  The boy looked a lot like Harry, but the nose wasn’t quite right, the hair was too long, and he was far too skinny and pale.  Actually, the longer Draco looked, the less like Harry this boy appeared, but it was eerie all the same.

“Snape, what’s going on?”

The boy’s head snapped gaze snapped back to the ground, but not before Draco noticed a flush of pink across his cheeks and that blank stare turning panicked for a moment.  “Snape, who is this?”

Who indeed.  “Boy.”

At the sound of Snape’s voice the boy’s head quickly lifted.  Though he said nothing, Severus could hear the echo of the boy’s hoarse, whispered voice in his ears.  Yes, Master Severus.   How can I please you, Master Severus?  Hit me harder, Master Severus.

That wouldn’t do.  “What is your given name?”

The child’s face froze, as it often did when the boy thought there was some new horror or torture waiting for him.  He still didn’t speak.

“Your name, boy.  What did your parents call you?”

The blank face quickly became one of distress and Draco stepped between them, looking at Snape accusingly.  “You’re upsetting him.”

Snape raised an eyebrow.  Interesting, he hadn’t thought Draco’s feelings for Potter had extended to the point that he would protect even someone who simply resembled the Gryffindor-Who-Lived-to-Annoy-Snape.  “Draco, unless he gives me a name, I shall have to continue to refer to his as Boy.”

Draco crossed his arms over his chest for a moment before turning around and kneeling in front of the boy, who crawled back a foot, afraid to have someone he didn’t know so close to him.  Draco started to lift his hand, but thought better of it and dropped it back to the floor.   “What’s your name?”

The boy looked at Draco, his face returning to its previous, impassiveness.  Well, the son did look a great deal like the father.

“I’m Draco Malfoy.”  As if introduction was the problem.

At the name Malfoy, the boy’s eyes widened in horror and he dropped his head.  Despite his silence, the shallow, rapid heaving of his back betrayed his panic.  Severus scowled, “Draco, show him your arm.”

Draco looked back at Severus, clearly annoyed.  “I don’t see how that would help any…”

“Do as I say for once and show the boy the underside of your arm.”

With a dramatic sigh, Draco did as instructed and shoved his shirt up, exposing the smooth, unmarked flesh of his forearm.  Death Eaters had not been the only ones to use the boy, but they had made up the vast majority and certainly never anyone as young as Draco.  The moment the boy saw Draco’s arm, his body relaxed minutely.  He shifted, just slightly, so that he was leaning nearer to Draco than Severus and his glances at the unfamiliar face were no longer frightened, but apprehensive.

Draco turned on his former Professor, standing to his full height and wishing it were just a little taller.  It would be much more intimidating if he didn’t have to tilt his head up to look him in the eyes.  “What’s going on?  Who is he and why is he here?  What was my father doing here and why wouldn’t you let him see me?  He wouldn’t have turned me in.  I’m his son and he…”

“You may be his son, but the Dark Lord is his Master.  If he thought that it would earn him favor, he would have wrapped a bow around you and hand delivered you to Lord Voldemort’s feet long before now.   Thank the gods the Dark Lord doesn’t prefer his consorts young and male.”

Snape felt some satisfaction as Draco’s face paled, but not nearly as much as he should have.  He still had to rescue bloody Potter.  “Take him up to your room and ward the door.  If you hear anything suspicious, get on your broom and fly.”

Draco blanched further, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form a proper thought.  “Bu… wha… to where?”

“Anywhere, just not here.”

He turned around to leave, but was stopped by Draco’s hand on his arm.  The boy’s silver eyes were narrowed.   “This is about Harry, isn’t it?”

Snape glared down the few inches separating them, but there really was no reason to lie, the sooner he left, the better.  “Yes.”

Draco nodded and let go of Snape, stepped back towards the cowering boy all but forgotten on the floor.  “You’ll save him.”  It wasn’t a question, so Snape did not answer.  He strode through his door and closed it behind him, stopping long enough to set a few well-placed wards before apparating.

______________

 

 

Harry didn’t know how long he’d been in the small, six by six room.  There wasn’t a window and he hadn’t been served any meals.  His stomach growled unhappily at the reminder and he chewed the inside of his mouth, pressing himself further into the corner.

There weren’t any furnishings in the room, just four stone walls and a cold floor that smelled surprisingly clean.  He’d thought that was weird at first.  Dungeons were supposed to smell bad, like urine or filth, but this one had a neutral, crisp kind of smell.  Of course, it hadn’t taken very long for Harry to figure out why.

Lucius could use magic to summon a mattress, he could summon bindings and anything else he needed to torture Harry, but apparently he refused to get even half naked in a room that was less than sterile.  For that alone, Harry almost wished he had enough liquid left in his system to urinate.

Harry tried to curl further into himself as footsteps sounded down the hallway.  At least Lucius hadn’t taken his clothes away.  They were little more than rags – the clasp on his robes was broken and his trousers and shirt were missing several buttons – but they were at least something, even if they were only there because Lucius liked to take them off him.

The door opened and Harry wished there was enough room to shy away from the towering figure in the doorway.  The other times they’d met, Harry had known that Lucius was bigger than he was, but while the older man had been threatening before, Harry had always been armed with his wand and surrounded by adults.  Alone, unarmed and in a small dungeon, he’d found that there was more to be afraid of than he’d ever realized before.  It had only taken one night alone with the man to make him understand why Draco had always been so terrified of his father.

With a deep breath, Harry gritted his teeth and forced himself to unwind, standing on unsteady legs.  He would not cower before this man, he wouldn’t.  It didn’t matter how much pain Lucius Malfoy offered him, he was not going to let his fear show.

A wand was held up and Harry nearly flinched, just managing the reign in the instinct and scowl instead.  He couldn’t, however, force himself speak.  He didn’t trust himself to.  Some hours ago (at least, he was assuming it was hours) he’d tried to sling insults only to have the Cruciatus Curse flung at him before he could get out the first word.  When he’d come out of it, screaming and begging for it to stop, he’d vowed not to open his mouth again.

Light filled the room and Harry found himself staring at a tall, sallow skinned figure that was most definitely not Lucius Malfoy.  For a moment, he couldn’t think.  His jaw went slack with shock and he stared, gripping the wall behind him to stay standing.

Snape?

“Well, I was fairly certain I would have to carry you out of here, but it looks as if I didn’t give you enough credit.”

At the sound of his voice, visions of Dumbledore, falling from the tower and the sickening thunk of the body hitting the ground below filled his head.  He stepped forward, intending to attack the man in the doorway, consequences be damned, but his legs gave out without the support of the wall and he fell down, unable to hold back the cry of pain as his arse hit the floor.

Snape stepped forward and Harry scrambled back, cursing his treacherous throat for the whimpers of pain that escaped with every movement.  No, curse Lucius for being a sick, twisted, perverted bastard who got off on raping boys on dark, dungeon floors.

“Get away from me!”

Snape stopped and looked behind him at the open door.  “I don’t have time for this.”  He took another step forward and Harry’s back hit the wall.  Shite.

“If you touch me, I’ll bloody kill you, I swear.”

It was an empty threat.  He’d said the same thing to Lucius the second time.

With a heavy sigh, Severus raised his wand, his mouth open to perform some curse, some new kind of pain that Harry had yet to experience.  Instead, he was stopped mid-spell by a voice in the doorway.

“Well, well, look who couldn’t wait to get his hands on the real thing.”

Severus cursed silently and lowered his wand, turning to face Lucius with a smug smirk on his lips.  “I simply had to confirm that what you had insinuated was the truth.  I could hardly imagine what kind of favor you had garnered that would give you the rights to use Harry Potter as you pleased before our Lord finished him off.”

He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Harry was trying to stand again, leaning heavily against the wall.  Stupid child, according to Severus’s sources, he had been missing for going on two days and it was quite obvious that it had not been a kind two days.  He should be conserving his strength.

Lucius sauntered forward, satisfaction clear in the way his gaze swept over the hunched boy.  “I caught him.”

Severus raised an eyebrow in surprise, though to be honest, he’d expected as much.  The official report was that Potter had been spirited away by Draco, but with the younger Malfoy safe at Snape’s home, the options had been limited.  Polyjuice, Potter would have recognized, but a de-aging potion and a carefully constructed glamour would have been far less obvious.  After all, the physical resemblance between Lucius and Draco was nearly as great as that of Harry and James.

Lucius stopped a foot away from Harry, who had finished standing and was shaking badly.  Moving quickly, Lucius grabbed Potter by his hair, fisting the unruly black mess and violently yanking the boy to his knees in front of him, smiling wickedly at the pained sound Harry made when his knees hit the floor.

“Did you know that he’s been having a rather heated relationship with my son?”  Harry scowled, his hands trying to pry Lucius' fingers out of his hair.  “Of course, I was aware that they were closer than friends, but I hardly expected Harry Potter to fall in love with my son.”

Harry stilled suddenly and stared forward, unable to breathe.   Severus frowned.  He’d known the boys were intimate, but he would never have gone so far as to confuse lust with love.  These were seventeen year old boys, mere children.  They hardly knew what love was.  At least, that was what he had thought until he had seen the look on Harry’s face.

Regardless of what the truth may be, Harry fancied himself in love with Draco.  Severus forced his expression into one of distain.  “I’d hardly call two boys humping each other’s legs ‘love.’”

With a positively feral growl, the boy began once again to try and rip himself from Lucius, but this time the object of his intentions was not escape so much as attacking Severus. 

Lucius chuckled at the display.  “Now look what you’ve done, you’ve upset the whelp.”

Kneeling down, Lucius pulled Harry so that he was doubled over at the waist with his chest only inches from the ground and his head bent painfully back.   Harry kept his grip on Lucius' wrists, no longer trying to pry free, and glared at the man heatedly.

“He’s such a delight, Severus.  The noises he makes… why, I could listen to them for eternity and never grow weary of it.”  To prove his point, he flicked his wand and the room echoed with the sounds of Harry’s choked screams.

Severus felt a tug of protectiveness in him.  Harry struggled in earnest now, spurred on by the humiliation.   He lashed out, raking his finger nails over Lucius’ arms desperately, trying to bring his feet under him, despite the uselessness of the effort.

The sounds faded, but didn’t go away - they were more whimpers than screams, punctuated by yelps caught between pain and pleasure.  Lucius lowered himself further, an act that would have looked graceless had it been anyone else performing it.  His mouth rested near Harry’s ear.  “What do you think, Harry?  Do you think your dear professor enjoys these sounds as much as I do?  Do you think he’ll enjoy watching while I take you?”

Harry gave a wordless cry and dug his nails in deeper.  Lucius used his free hand to trail his wand over Harry’s shoulder and up his neck, resting it against the boy’s dirty hands.  A single word, followed by a surprised hiss of breath and Harry moved his hands away, dropping them to the floor.

“Perhaps you’d rather have him take you, then?  You’re in an… amenable position.”  Lucius looked up, all cat like smiles and feline grace as he had always been, his voice purring.  “What do you think, Severus, dear friend?  You’ve always said you wondered if the real thing would be as delicious.  I assure you, it is.”

Of all the things Lucius could have said and done, it wasn’t even the worst.  Perhaps it was the obscene sound of Harry around them, coupled with the boy’s desperate expression as he crouched, nearly prostrated on the ground.  Whatever it was, Severus felt himself move before he even knew what he was doing.

Lucius didn’t have time to dodge the curse that was aimed at him.  A flash of green and the great Lucius Malfoy was dead, killed by possibly the only person he had ever trusted.  As selective as he was, Lucius had trusted no one, not his wife and certainly not his son, but he had always reserved a place of honor for his old friend.  They had known each other since high school and surely there could be no secrets between them by now.

Harry had fallen on his side the moment Lucius' grip had relaxed.  Realizing he was free, he sat up and looked from Lucius’ dead body to Severus, standing over them both, his eyes blazing with anger at Harry didn’t even know what.  His mind raced.  He needed a weapon.  His gaze fell on Lucius' wand, laying only a few feet from him.

Unfortunately, as fast as his mind may have been working, his body was too sore to keep up.  As he dove forward, his hand brushed against the wand, only to have it yanked away from him, summoned by Severus.  He turned around and faced the other man.

Lucius had caught him by surprise.  He had looked like Draco, but there had been strength and training behind the small frame that had never been there before and that had given Lucius an advantage that Harry couldn’t hope to match.  Afterwards, it had been a matter of survival.  However, faced with Snape, Harry would rather die than let the man touch him.

Snape’s wand aimed at him and Harry paled.  Of course, he’d rather not die all things considered.  He dodged out of the way as a jet of blue light flew at him and stumbled to his feet, clutching the door jam as nausea rolled over him.  He had to run.  He’d suffered worse than this and still been able to fight back.  Voldemort had used the Cruciatus on him several times that night at the graveyard and he’d gotten away.

“Potter, stand still.”

Harry edged further through the doorway.  “Like hell.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Is that what you told Dumbledore?”

Snape’s face went from mildly annoyed to icy cold.  “Do not speak about things you know nothing of.”

His pain was pushed into the background by his anger.  “I was standing right there, you bloody bastard, I know what happened!”

“You know nothing.”

Harry felt his lip trembling and he bit his tongue sharply.   He would not cry in front of Snape.  He wouldn’t.  “How could you do it?!  He trusted you.   No one else may have, but he always did!   He trusted you!”

Snape’s eyes closed and Harry saw the pain there.

“Don’t just stand there, tell me why?!”

The worst part was - Harry knew why.  He’d known the moment Snape leveled his wand at Lucius.  He’d played the night over in his mind a dozen times and it came down to two very simple facts for him.

One, Dumbledore had begged.  Dumbledore was not the kind of man to beg.  He had faced down Voldemort in the Ministry without flinching.  He’d told Harry that death was but the next great adventure.   If there was one thing that Dumbledore would not beg for, it was his own life.

Two, Dumbledore trusted Snape.  He still wasn’t sure why, but he did know that Dumbledore did not bestow his trust lightly and he had never been so utterly wrong before.  Which led to the inevitable realization that maybe he hadn’t been wrong either.

In the end, though, Harry hadn’t wanted to believe it, because he didn’t want to think that Dumbledore would abandon him like that, with no warning.  When Snape killed Lucius… well, that just synched it, didn’t it?  Snape was still protecting him like he’d always been and Dumbledore had been right to trust him, but that meant that Dumbledore had abandoned him and that Harry couldn’t take.

“If something should happen to me, I ask that you return to your aunt and uncle until you come of age.”

No amount of biting his tongue was going to keep the tears back anymore.  They slid down his cheeks and Harry slid to the floor on his knees and bent double, pressing his face into his palms, feeling more lost than he had even when Sirius had left him.

Severus watched the boy cry.  It would have been easier to take if it had been accompanied by heart wrenching sobs, but it was silent and the shuddering of Harry’s pack said more about the grief and pain he was suffering than words could have hoped to.

He needed to get the boy out of there, because the longer they stayed, the more risk there was of detection.  Certainly Voldemort would know by now that something had happened to Lucius and it was only a matter of time before he sent someone.  He knew all that, but it felt wrong interrupting such a private moment.

“Potter, we have to leave.”

“I know.” The answer was mumbled and it shook with the effort it had taken to get it out.

Severus stepped forward and stooped down, taking the boy’s arms just below the shoulders and righting him and helping him stand.  It would have been easier with the boy unconscious, but Severus doubted Harry would react well to having Severus’s wand pointed at him again.

As they made their way down the hall, Snape guiding Harry through the twists and turns of the mazelike dungeon, they passed several house elves, all staring at them with a mix of awe and disbelief.  After the fifth one, Harry mumbled something under his breath and Snape stopped.   “What?”

Harry looked up, a ghost of a smile on his swollen lips.  “They’re all free now.  Hermione will be pleased.”

Snape harrumphed noncommittally as they finally made it into the lounge and drew his wand the apparrate them.  “Hold tight.”  To his surprise, Harry did.

 

-tbc-