The Upper Hand

"Oh, Severus."

Seconds, minutes, or hours later, a patronizing voice fell thickly over Severus´s ears. He lifted his head slowly, grazing his tear-stained cheeks against his sleeves as he did so. The melodramatically concerned face of Lucius Malfoy loomed over him, eyebrows lifted and mouth quirked in a practiced look of sympathy. But not even Lucius Malfoy could disguise his eyes, and they danced malevolently behind their gray screen. Severus kept his face exanimate, standing silently. He brushed past Lucius coldly, without a word.

"What did I tell you?" he heard the voice call from above him on the staircase. "Mudbloods are mudbloods, Severus! You can´t change them, no matter how badly you want to!"

He walked on, hearing quickened steps echo behind him, until he felt the inevitable hand on his shoulder.

"Severus, really. She´s not worth all this trouble. She´d have betrayed you anyway; at least it´s over with now and you don´t have it to look forward to-"

"You don´t know what you´re talking about, Lucius."

"Don´t I?" His eyes glittered voraciously now.

"No," snapped Severus. "You don´t. You don´t know me, you don´t know her, you don´t know a Goddamn thing about any of it. Just forget it, Lucius."

"I know that you´ve spent two years tagging after a no account mudblood who now seems to think that her Hogwarts education isn´t nearly as important as getting away from you. Where has it got you, Sev? What worthwhile thing have you accomplished by being her friend?"

Severus stared at him. What worthwhile thing had he accomplished? Still being alive, perhaps? Now that he thought about it, that didn´t seem like such a worthwhile thing after all. He was alive all right, and he probably wouldn´t be if it weren´t for Charity. But what was he alive for? His father hated him, the one person he´d thought he could always trust was leaving him, and in less than a year, he would set out into a world that didn´t hold a place for him. Cheers, Malfoy, he thought.

"Well, am I right?" continued Lucius in the tone of a harsh reprimand. An arm slid over his shoulders, steering him back down toward the Slytherin Dungeons. "Put it behind you, Severus. We´ll help you forget! Good times, remember?"

"Right," said Severus bitterly, shaking off Lucius´s arm of pretend comfort. "Why don´t you just go back to the common room, Lucius? I don´t quite feel like having your manipulation thrown in my face just now."

"And what´ll you do," said Lucius, all pretense of empathy gone from his expression now. "Sulk here a bit more? Fall asleep on the steps like the pitiful excuse for a pureblood you are? Wait for her to come out in the morning so you can latch onto her ankles and beg her to stay? Pathetic! I´m not manipulating you, Severus, I´m guiding you! Apparently your father´s persuasion hasn´t taught you any sense yet, so you´d better listen to me while you still can! Not much more time before graduation, Sev. Then where will you be? I´m your only hope. It´s in your best interests to stick with me."

The last few sentences slid past Severus unheard. The statement about "his father´s persuasion" rang in his ears and dried his mouth. Did Lucius Malfoy know more about Severus than he´d presumed? Was there a threat weaved sinuously through the blonde boy´s words, lurking behind the calm sheen of his eyes? Severus knew that information could travel from Lucius to Senan quicker than lightning, knew all too well of the bond between Lucius´s father and his own. His heart began to beat in a paranoid dance of panic.

Lucius mistook Severus´s alarmed silence for agreement (or perhaps not), and smiled.

"Knew you´d see the light soon enough, mate," he said softly, the glitter in his eyes evanescently dimmed. "Come on, let´s get you back to the Slytherin common room, where you belong."

Too fearful to protest, Severus nodded, following Lucius obediently down the staircases and back into the arms of blackmailed acceptance. He only looked back once.

***

Charity never spoke to him again. He would only ever see her two more times in his life.

One of those times was the very next morning, on the way to breakfast. Severus followed Lucius´s gang past the entrance hall and into the Great Hall, toward the Slytherin table. He glanced briefly into the entrance hall as he passed, and saw her standing there. She was surrounded by her luggage, wearing muggle clothes, and looking more pale and emaciated than ever. She looked up, those deep, liquid brown eyes sending Severus´s mind reeling back into painful memories he refused to relive. He stubbornly looked away, making his way to the empty seat waiting for him.

***

By Christmas, he had forced himself to forget her almost completely. She was nothing but a contretemps of his past, a figment of unimportance hardly worth thinking of. At least, that´s what he told himself when he did. Pull yourself together, Severus! His inner dialogue seemed to take on the dialect and tone of Lucius Malfoy. Don´t be pathetic!

Lucius kept him busy, and eventually Severus´s wariness of him dulled into an almost friendly comradeship between the two. Lucius and the boys all conversed on the same plane of sarcasm; an endless contest of words which Severus found himself a significant part of almost instantly. They even joined him in taunting Potter and Black occasionally, though they let him have the lead role in scathing remarks. A feral satisfaction came with every blow Severus dealt them, and he found that it helped to assuage the pain that lingered dully under his skin. It felt wonderful just to see Potter´s perfect composure falter, to see Black´s façade of good nature crumble around him to reveal the worthless murderer within.

Black had been punished for his crimes on Severus last year, but not nearly enough. It was Severus´s opinion that he surely should have been expelled. But now that Dumbledore kept a close eye on Black regarding him, Severus knew that Black was harmless. And that he hated it. Severus planned to carry out the rest of Black´s deserved punishment himself in a stream of cutting words, always proving he had the upper hand over Black and Potter with his last remark. He always saved his most shattering blow for last.

As the holidays grew nearer, students grew more and more rambunctious, itching to go home and be free of school. As usual, Severus dreaded the holiday from school, spending whole nights awake thinking of a tolerable excuse to give his father for staying at school. As usual, he could think of nothing satisfactory. His father always wanted him home for the Chrismas holidays. Not necessarily because he wanted to see his son, but because no child of a respectable pureblood family should be seen staying at Hogwarts for the holidays; only the witches and wizards with unfit homes to return to did that, and he wanted no one to question the suitability of the Snape Manor or its inhabitants.

A few days before the holidays began, however, a strange thing happened.

As the usual postprandial mail delivery owls swooped down over the Slytherin table one morning, a letter was dropped onto Severus´s glinting plate bearing the wax seal of Senan Snape. Receiving the first letter from his father in his entire Hogwarts career, Severus´s fingers trembled as he circumspectly broke the seal and unfolded the crisp ivory parchment.

Severus,

You cannot comprehend how relieved I am to hear that you have finally made some apposite friends. I have been talking to Deucalion Malfoy frequently in the past few weeks, and he reports that his son´s letters often mention you. Good. Getting familiar with a Malfoy can only be profitable. It appears you are not totally incompetent, then.

I´ve decided that it would be a good experience for you to spend this holiday with Lucius, Deucalion, and his wife Calliope at the Malfoy Manor. I hope that a week with the Malfoys will have a good influence on you. Press your advantages now, Severus. As of yet, you have kept a good face with Lucius. See that you do the same with Deucalion.

You are to be ready at eight o´clock sharp this coming Sunday morning, when Lucius´s carriage arrives. See that you are on time. Also see that you keep your tongue in check and only speak when it is appropriate. And for God´s sake, don´t bandy about proclaiming that you have any affiliation with that muggle born friend of yours whatsoever.

Do not embarrass me.

Senan Snape

Severus looked up at Lucius, who seemed to be reading a letter along the same lines from his own father. After a moment, Lucius looked up at him and grinned.

"Looks like we´ll be spending Christmas together, eh?"

Severus grinned back. Anything was better than home.

***

On Sunday morning, Severus and Lucius stood with their bags in the entrance hall, Albus Dumbledore waiting with them to see them off safely. This made both of them slightly uncomfortable (especially Severus, who couldn´t help but remember his previous confrontations with the headmaster concerning Black). To ease the discomfort, they settled for peering out the frosted windows out into the grounds. Snow blanketed everything, casting a sharp glare over the scene. The sky was a cloudy white, causing an indistinct horizon which made the Hogwarts grounds look like a wall of bright white with only the patch of dark that was the Forbidden Forest and the tiny pinprick of the gamekeeper´s hut to relieve its harshness.

Eventually, another contrasting silhouette loped into view, growing larger as it scaled the distance to the castle. Lucius´s carriage.

It pulled right up to the doors, a horseless carriage of shining black, all sharp angles and tinted glass. A house elf threw the carriage doors open, and three more elves hopped out preceding him, to stand in a rigid line by the carriage as their fellow skipped up to the doors and knocked.

"Ah, here we are," said Dumbledore with false cheeriness, pulling one of the entrance hall´s doors open to admit the small elf.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, sir!" squeaked the elf, bowing low and with much extravagant flailing of his hands and arms. "Master Deucalion Malfoy sends his highest regards!"

"Yes, I´m sure he does," replied Dumbledore, not quite succeeding in hiding his distaste. He said this pointedly, almost to wave a flag of disrespect, and Lucius curled his lip silently at the headmaster´s back.

"Well, boys," said Dumbledore, turning to them as the house elf ushered to its fellows to come and take Severus and Lucius´s luggage. "Mister Malfoy, Mister Snape, I hope you both have a delightful holiday." He seemed to say it only out of duty.

"And you, Headmaster," said Lucius haughtily, wearing a large, false smile. They followed the elves who bore their luggage out the doors.

As the carriage pulled away, Severus could have sworn he saw Dumbledore´s normally cheerful face, surrounded by its whitish auburn beard and hair, staring sadly at him. But when Severus looked again, there were only the empty, frosty windows of the Hogwarts castle fading away behind him.

The trip was long, and Severus was in a half-dose for most of it. Elaborate meals were brandished by the house elves, who seemed to pop out of thin air at their every whim. They didn´t reach the Malfoy manor until late that afternoon.

A lake like rich black ink stretched out before the carriage as they approached, and at its other shore, Severus could see a colossal structure of deep gray stone and marble. It was certainly bigger than the Snape Manor, and only slightly smaller than Hogwarts itself. Its sharply angled turrets stabbed into the reddish sky, creating a most intimidating image indeed. It was old. Very old.

The carriage didn´t decelerate whatsoever as it approached the lake. Severus glanced nervously over at Lucius, who seemed to be plucking disinterestedly at his shoelaces. He looked out the window; the carriage was still plodding along, and the lakeshore was only feet away! He gripped his seat.

"...Lucius!?"

"Eh?" said Lucius, looking up from his shoes. But before Severus could ask him what was going on, the carriage was gliding smoothly over the surface of the lake as if it were solid ground. He stared out the window in amazement; the wasn´t a ripple in the black water as the carriage passed over it.

"Oh!" said Lucius, grinning. "Only way to get in, that. We have our carriages enchanted, you see. That´s why Father always sends for his guests, rather than having them come on their own. Have a normal carriage try that, and it´ll be swallowed up by the lake in seconds!"

"Ah," said Severus queasily, quickly averting his gaze from the lake and back into the carriage.

Soon enough, they were over the lake, and the carriage halted with a jolt before the vestibule. Quite suddenly, there were all four house elves again, transporting their bags into the castle and opening the doors to Lucius and Severus.

And there, right inside the entrance to the vestibule, stood Deucalion Malfoy. He was a tall, slim, shining man, king of his own domain, and not unaware of it. He was dressed in deep emerald robes trimmed with gold, and he wore it with a bearing that suggested it was merely casual wear. His facial features were nearly identical to Lucius´s, the sharp gray eyes sweeping over Severus, measuring him. Severus stood tall, trying not to let the sick nervousness Deucalion´s gaze triggered show on his face.

"Severus Snape," he said after a moment, smiling. He held his hand out to Severus smoothly, and Severus took it, deliberating over whether he should actually bow or not. Deucalion demanded such a presence that it almost seemed necessary, but Severus restrained himself. Don´t embarrass me...His father´s letter echoed in his head. He took Master Malfoy´s hand and shook it.

"Excellent," said Deucalion, and Severus wasn´t sure if he was referring to his choice of action or to his simply being there. "I´ve been waiting to meet Senan´s son for ages. Your father is a great man, Severus. I expect you´ll turn out the same."

It was meant to be a compliment, and Severus smiled, but somewhere inside him a voice screamed, NO! Not like him... "Thank you, Mister Malfoy."

"Come inside, boys," he said, ushering them inside. "Dinner awaits us."

Unlike the Snape Manor, which was bear of most any décor, the Malfoy Manor seemed to be bursting with it. Marble floors of varying color paved their shining way to the dining hall, and if the walls were stone, they were dressed up so much that you hardly noticed. Tapestries, portraits, and every other thing that reflected immense wealth imaginable lined the walls. There were no torches; the Manor was obviously enchanted so that a crystal light shone in every corridor without a visible source. There were no gargoyles.

The dining hall was no different from the rest of the castle, if only slightly brighter and slightly more glorified. The gargantuan table was set with four places; there were crystal plates, goblets, and silverware that spanned out seemingly a foot in each direction from each plate.

"And this is my lovely wife, Calliope," said Deucalion as they entered. Waiting by the table stood a beautiful young woman, blonde, and wearing an outrageously seductive set of "robes". Severus blushed and forced his eyes to stay firmly on her face. Doing this made him realize she looked like she could almost be a sister of Deucalion´s. He tried not to think about it. Some families went far out of their way to ensure the purity of blood. It would also explain the exact carbon copy each new generation made of his father...of course, Malfoys always had sons.

Calliope held her hand out to Severus expectantly. He took it, hesitating for a moment again in deliberation, before dipping his head down smoothly to kiss the top of her hand in a genteel display. He stood rigidly again, smiling at her. She smiled back, tossing her silvery hair.

"Like father, like son," said Deucalion, smiling strangely. Severus didn´t let the implications of that statement sink in.

"Let us dine!" said Deucalion. At first, Severus stared at him, wondering why he would choose such a gaudy exclamation to announce dinner. Then, as house elves streamed into the dining hall, he realized it had been an order. They all sat.

Course after course after course arrived. Severus ate until he could eat no more, and then he ate more anyway. There was constant conversation between Deucalion and Calliope, but Lucius and Severus were hardly even acknowledged, and Severus followed Lucius´s example and remained silent.

When dinner was over, Deucalion ordered Lucius to show Severus to his rooms. They walked along the brightly lit corridors, Lucius talking animatedly about the history of the Malfoy Manor as they walked, Severus hardly listening. Eventually, they reached a large chamber door. Lucius pulled it open and led Severus inside.

It was much like his rooms at the Snape Manor, only there was a large window on the west wall, and the floor was covered with an intricately weaved oriental rug. Severus´s bags were waiting neatly beside a large chest of drawers.

"Breakfast is at nine-thirty," explained Lucius. "And lunch is at twelve-thirty. Other than that, we basically have the whole place to ourselves. Father is gone most of the day, and Mother doesn´t interfere much."

Severus nodded.

"I´ll leave you, then," continued Lucius. "See you in the morning!"

And he left.

***

The holidays passed uneventfully. Just as Lucius had said, they had the castle to themselves most of the time. Deucalion and Calliope were present for breakfast and dinner everyday, but lunch was attended by only Lucius and Severus. They spent much of the time touring the Malfoy Estate, Lucius showing Severus different booby traps and historical sites. Other than that, time was spent lounging around and being served by what seemed to be an entire colony of house elves living somewhere in the castle.

The last day before their return to Hogwarts passed just the same as the others. That is, until after dinner. Dinner was relatively silent that night, and after they had all stood and said their genial goodnights, Deucalion stopped Severus on his way out of the hall.

As Severus followed Lucius out into the corridor, he was startled by a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Severus," said Deucalion as Severus turned to face him. "Why don´t you come with me for a moment? There´s someone your father has asked me to introduce you to."

Lucius stopped and looked around excitedly.

"Not you, Lucius," said Deucalion sternly. Lucius looked put out, but he turned albeit sulkily, and headed back to his chambers. Severus´s stomach lurched, but he smiled and followed Lucius obediently. They seemed to be taking the same route that was used to go to Severus´s chambers.

In fact, they stopped at a portrait just to the right of Severus´s chamber doors. It was a painting of the Malfoy Manor; the same view Severus had gotten from across the lake that first day, painted in gray and black acrylics. He watched as Deucalion ran his fingers gently down the front of the portrait, stopping at the edge of the inky lake. Here, he pressed his fingers against the painting. They sank right through the picture, pulling his hand in after them, and then part of his forearm. Severus watched with amazement and Deucalion, his face a mask of concentration, fiddled with something on the other side of the painting. There were several intricate clicks and scraps, and then Deucalion pulled his arm back out of the painting and waited patiently.

After a moment, an entire section of the wall, including the portrait, cracked away and swung out, revealing a doorway. Through this doorway, Severus could see a narrow stone staircase angling steeply down into blackness. On the inside of the wall/door was a torch. Deucalion grabbed it, and it burst into flame. He turned to Severus, wearing the same look of vehement excitement that his son often acquired. He smiled at Severus.

"Follow me."

Severus followed. The staircase seemed never-ending, and he could only see a few feet in front of him thanks to Deucalion´s torch. Finally, their feet hit level ground. In a violent movement, Deucalion threw his torch up into the air. There was a flash, and then the torch had disappeared, but a flickering light filled the...dungeons. Severus looked around.

While the upper regions of the Malfoy Manor were decorative and shining, the dungeons were quite the contrary. The walls were made of rough, gray, stone blocks, and the floor was cold black stone. It was damp and musty, with a freezing draft wafting through occasionally. The room they were in now was completely empty, but Severus could see tunnels and corridors stretching out in different directions. From these corridors, an unearthly stench rolled in with each hollow gust of air.

Deucalion breathed in the smell deeply, grinning at Severus. "Travel those tunnels long enough," he said, "and you find they´re connected to the catacombs. Very convenient, let me tell you!" He laughed: a harsh, sharp bark that echoed around the chamber. The hair stood up at the nape of Severus´s neck.

They waited. Severus was unsure what they were waiting for, but was simply too nervous to ask. Deucalion kept muttering things like, "any minute now. Yes, any minute..." Severus tried to breathe through his mouth without Deucalion noticing. The acrid smell of decay was overwhelming. His heart beat faster with every moment passed.

Finally, there was a popping sound, and a man apparated into the dungeons. He was tall and skeletally thin, dressed in hooded robes of plain black. When he lowered his hood, Severus could see that his pupils were that of a cat´s, and his irises were a strange gold tinged red. They were framed with tilted black eyebrows, and his hair was of a long jet-black, cascading down over his shoulders. His nose was curiously flat, nostrils upturned, giving him an even more skull-like appearance. He had a thin mouth, which smiled at Deucalion in recognition.

"My Lord!" gasped Deucalion, falling to his knees. He looked drunk with rapture, his gray eyes shining as he kissed the hem of the thin man´s robes.

Severus was frozen. He´d never really pictured the Dark Lord in the flesh before. The way he was talked about, Severus thought of him as some surreal deity, a disconnected ruler of universal proportions, almost like a twisted version of God. Somehow, seeing the Dark Lord in such a concentrated form was an even more frightening prospect. Should he bow? Kiss the hem of those black robes, like Deucalion? Run? This...man...inspired the same response from Severus as Senan did: frozen, terrified respect. A fight or flight response that couldn´t be acted upon.

Deucalion rose once more, his face flushed with feverish happiness. He seemed to have forgotten that Severus was there. The Dark Lord, however, was staring straight at him.

"This is the boy? Senan´s son?" He rasped, his voice holding a strange melody. It was strangely high-pitched, almost like a little boy´s, but filled with a bloodlust that made it unrecognizable as a human voice.

"Yes, Lord," said Deucalion, and suddenly Severus felt a hand at the small of his back, Deucalion shoving him roughly forward, so that he stumbled to his knees. "Severus Snape."

Severus stared at the floor, feeling the bile of terror rise in his throat. He didn´t move from the position he found himself thrust into.

"Severus," that voice commanded, almost in a singsong of corrupted power. "Look up."

He obeyed. The bloody irises captivated him.

"Are you impressed, boy?" whispered the voice.

"Yes," Severus heard himself answer in a monotone. He was breathless.

"Do you think I am powerful?"

"Yes."

"Yes," the Dark Lord agreed. "I command more power than you could ever dream of, boy. I can do anything. Tell me, Severus. What is it that you want more than anything?"

Severus thought for a moment. He suddenly felt a fog uncurl in his brain, relieving his senses of their control, a sense of bliss unfurling over him. He heard a whisper in his brain, telling him the answer. Of course! Of course, that was what he wanted. All he wanted. All he needed. It was the answer to everything.

"Power," he replied dreamily. "Power!"

"Of course you do," said that seductive voice, slipping around him and through him, coaxing away all his worries. And then, "you are your father´s son."

The euphoria broke. NO! Cried his mind again. Not like him! He blinked, hurt and confused to feel the chimera of elation disappear.

"You do not want to please your father?" The voice hissed now.

"Yes!" choked Severus frantically. He did! Oh, he did! But he couldn´t...

"You will," said the Dark Lord gently. "You are confused. I will show you the way."

"Yes." The ecstasy was back.

"Stand up, Severus Snape."

He stood, barely aware of the movement. His joints were oiled. They worked smoothly, on their own. It was wonderful.

"And follow me."

He followed. They walked down into one of the slanted tunnels, flickering red light blossoming before them as they walked. The walls were lined with bars, now. Severus didn´t even notice as the stench of decayed flesh increased in strength. The Dark Lord stopped before a cell. Inside this cell crouched an emaciated man, smeared with dirt and blood and sweat, chunks of his hair fallen to the floor around him. Severus was disgusted.

"A muggle," the Dark Lord explained.

"Filthy," Severus agreed, curling his lip.

"But see now..." He waved his hand over Severus´s eyes, and the image of the dying man shimmered like sun on water, before rippling smoothly into an image of Sirius Black. An illusion, but Severus was in such a state that it didn´t matter. He snarled audibly. The image of Sirius Black stood, straight-backed and full of himself, grinning tauntingly at Severus.

"Just prod the knot," it teased, then burst into laughter.

"Does he deserve to go unpunished?" whispered the Dark Lord.

"No!" snapped Severus, and before he was aware of it, he had pulled his wand from his robes.

"See what I can teach you, boy," the voice whispered in his mind. He let the voice guide his wand arm up to point at the Black-illusion. "Crucio," it whispered in his mind, and then Severus realized that the word had burst from his own lips, and that Sirius Black was on the floor, convulsing and screaming in agony.

"I´m SORRY!" it screeched.

Severus felt a smile curl his lips. YES!

"Power," whispered the voice again. "Power heals all..."

Slowly, as Black sobbed and screamed before him, the foggy state of Severus´s mind slipped away. Before he knew it, he was fully conscious, fully himself, and torturing a half-dead muggle. With a jerk, he wrenched his wand up in a frenzied effort to break the curse. The man screeched louder than ever, before abruptly stopping and lying still on the cold floor, his tear-stained face glaring up at Severus in confusion and pain. He shook.

"No," Severus mouthed.

"Yes," whispered the Dark Lord at his shoulder. "You did that. You lived for that."

"No!"

"Yes!"

Without thinking, Severus turned and fled. He ran blindly through the dark, crashing into the bars on either side of him, hearing the screams of the man echoing in his head. He ran back up the staircase, not able to feel his muscles ache or his feet clatter against the stone. Just ran.

"It´s who you are!" The voice called in his head. "You can´t change who you are!"

He ran through the corridors. He ran back to his chambers. He slammed the door shut behind him, bolting it. He couldn´t lock out the voice. "You can´t change who you are!"

He collapsed on his bed, pulling his pillow down over his head. He tried to drown out the voice in his head with his own voice. He didn´t realize what he was shouting until the voice had faded away.

"Look at all the pain you´ve caused! Look at all the pain you´ve caused!"

He stopped. Silence. Blessed, blessed silence. Sleep now.

***

The tortured man in the dungeons was the only person to witness the conversation that took place after the boy´s flight. He stared up at the two dark figures, his eyes watering with pain. He heard what they said.

"He is lost, Lord."

"He is far from lost."

"He did not listen!"

"Oh, Deucalion. He listened. He will keep listening. He will not forget."

"But-"

"He is young, and he is troubled. His mind is easily molded. He will understand soon enough."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Yes. Do not speak to him of it in the morning. Warn Senan to say nothing. He will discover who he is meant to be on his own. His curiosity will drive him to my side."

"Yes."

"Do not fret, Deucalion. We shall have him yet."