The Difference in Normal

The Difference in Normal
By Eilan

I know what I do is wrong. What we do is wrong. And yet we continue to do so.

Why? Because it keeps us sane; because it's the only normal thing in our lives; because there's nothing else worth living for in our lives.

One could say that I at least have my son. But do I? Or is he rather the product of my husband's so called "education"? Every time I look at him, all I can see is Lucius. And I don't want to see Lucius, I want to see Draco. But there is no Draco.

What else do I have? Wealth. Something that mattered to me when I was a girl, and that I would happily give up for a normal life nowadays. Too bad you can't buy a new life; I could certainly afford it.

I have a name. Malfoy. It's a respected name in the Wizarding community. Respected-- as in feared. And I live up to that name very well, I think. I was always a good actress, faking to be interested in Lucius, not in his money and his good name. Now that I have the name, I hate it. Everywhere I go, people bow and try to please me because they are afraid. At first it was fun, the pretty and ambitious but poor Ravenclaw that I was felt flattered. Now all I can think is that I hate my life.

Nothing that I have is truly mine. Mine, and not Lucius,' or the Malfoy’s', or Voldemort's, or the Death Eaters'.

Well, that's not totally true. There's one thing that is almost mine-- one little thing that no one but he and I know of.

I don't love Severus, and he doesn't love me; I'm not under any illusions in that matter. I still need him. To know that there's someone in this world who respects me for what I am, not for what I have.

But sometimes, just before I drift to sleep, I can get myself to believe I love him. In a very strange way. And it gives me the strength I need. Even when we were still just friends, he gave me that strength, but now that I need more to go on living, our relationship has changed.

We're a strange couple. Both lost souls who would give everything to turn back time and lead a different life. If I was fourteen and not thirty-four, I'd probably say we were soul mates. Since I'm not, I'll say that we are morally twisted people. Severus, because he is a Death Eater, and I, because I don't do anything to stop Voldemort.

We're both not angels, I'll freely admit that. And if Lucius or Voldemort ever get to know what's happening between me and Severus, we'll be dead.

Well, maybe not Severus, he's too valuable to the Dark Lord. But I will, because I'm not needed in the greater scheme of things.

I'm just a woman in need of something worth living for.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She's finally asleep. This means that I'll be leaving soon. I can't afford to stay any longer, Lucius will be back soon. But she begged me to stay until she was asleep.

I'm doing her the favour only because I know why she wants it. Because she needs some normality, someone who stays with her until she falls asleep before he leaves. It's the least I can do for her before she dies.

And she will die, sooner or later. As it is, it will probably be sooner. Either Lucius will discover our little "secret" and kill her, or he will decide that he needs someone more "adequate" for him.

She's replaceable. This is a realisation she got very late, a few years after Draco's birth. She's not dumb, but she probably ignored the signs. Lucius needed a pretty woman to give birth to his heir, and she was the prettiest girl that was willing to marry him. As for her and me, there was no love involved. No illusions there, I know I'm far from lovable. But Lucius turned to her out of need for a wife, whereas we turned to each other out of need for warmth. Emotional and physical.

Like her, I would give everything to turn back time and change the decisions I made. But as it is, I can only try to make our lives as good as I can. Give her something before Lucius gets rid of her and me. Give her something before I have to go back to murdering.

For me, she’s a warm body in the night. A warm body that for a minute or two even gives me the feeling of being a human being, someone worth loving.

Great life I've got there.

But at the moment, at least I've got someone I can come back to. Around her, I can be myself, not Severus Snape, the Death Eater, or Severus Snape, the nasty Potions teacher, or Severus Snape, the secretly good guy who spies for Dumbledore. Just Severus Snape.

Of course, she doesn't know about me being a spy. Telling her would be risking too much. But she knows of my doubts concerning Voldemort.

If it wasn't so damn serious, I'd call us soul mates.

As it is, dead serious and not funny in the least, I'll call us desperate.

Desperate people, looking for a straw to grasp for in a world of confusion.