Reconstruction of a Death Eater

Relating

Draco sat with his elbows on the table, his head cupped in his hands. He stared at the top of the old refectory table, staring deep into the grain through the layers of old polish. This abandoned and dusty room tucked in at the back of the restricted section had become his sanctuary away from the curious eyes of the rest of the school. Without this peaceful place, he thought he would be unable to keep up the façade he had been forced to wear. The strain of living a lie, while the one person he still had any respect for was so badly hurt, was huge! All he really wanted to do was cry, but Malfoys did not cry, nor were they prey to human emotions, except for the negative ones like anger, arrogance and contempt.

Golden sunlight pierced the tiny lancet windows high in the wall, laying a diamond pattern over the table and the book he was supposed to be reading. Dust motes danced in the air, swirling golden clouds that suddenly jumped into agitated life as the breeze from the door opening caused chaos in their movement. Draco did not move but instead tracked the rustle of robes and the soft footfalls that stopped by his elbow.

"So you did come back," he murmured without raising his head, feeling the warmth of her body down his left side as she stood quite close to him.

"Humm, I need to continue my Latin lessons," Hermione said softly, almost reaching out to smooth a wayward strand of fine silver hair. Catching the movement before it even began, she carefully eased away and slid into the seat at right angles to his.

"Humm, Latin lessons but remember the price of the lessons - news of my Godfather," he murmured still without looking up.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know whether the news is good or bad, but here it is - such as it is: Sevvy likes hot chocolate."

Draco looked up sharply, and Hermione drew a gasping breath at the sheer misery in his eyes. They looked like drowned silver moons in his face. "Explain," he demanded.

"I spoke to Molly Weasley and she told me that Severus had begun to use baby talk, preferred to be called Sevvy, and he liked hot chocolate. He spent the day with Remus, sketching in the library, and he had learned to read a few simple words by last night. Draco, he is recovering! The wait is now to see how much he can recover or if he is always going to be a little simple in his mind."

Draco flung himself to his feet and strode back and forward across the tiny room impatiently. "And this is good news, how?" he demanded angrily. "One of the most brilliant minds of the generation and he can now 'read a few simple words'. My Gods, Hermione, that is obscene!"

Hermione almost flinched at the venom in his words but managed to remain still and calm in the face of his anger. Finally, Draco flung himself back into the chair and again cupped his head in his hands as he began to speak in a low, anguished voice.

"I love Severus Snape, more than I love anyone else in this world, including my parents. Hell's Flames, he has been more of a parent to me since I came to school than either of the people who conceived and reared me! Before that even, when he used to visit Malfoy Manor and stay with us for various functions, he was always there when I needed anything. He is always there for any of us in Slytherin, backing us, protecting and watching over us. Oh, I know what the rest of you see: favouritism, blatant bending of rules and a cold, hard man with no humour or pleasure in anything or anyone. You all hate him and that is so unfair. You just don't understand!"

"Make me understand, Draco," Hermione said firmly, realising the Slytherin really needed to talk more desperately than he had ever needed anything else before. "Make me see past the bad attitude and nasty temper."

Draco looked up at her, piercing her with inquisitive and hard eyes. "You'll listen? Okay, let me see. My first memory of Uncle Severus is of being held high in his arms as he lifted me down from a tree, a Christmas tree as it happened. He held me close to him and he was hard and warm and safe; I'd never had safe before," Draco said wonderingly. "I clung to his neck and knew he would not drop me or hurt me or anything, just keep me safe and warm. It was ... incredible."

"Surely your parents...?"

"... were too busy for a child. Father wanted an Heir, Mother gave him an Heir. They both forgot that the 'Heir' was a child, a real person, not a doll to be shuffled off into a corner. When they wanted to show me off, I was brought down from the nursery, paraded in front of whomever, then tossed back into the cupboard until I was needed again. That's how most pure-blood families work. Uncle Severus would not tolerate that sort of thing; he actually read me stories and brought me little personal things. I remember once he brought me a piece of rock with pretty patterns in it, a curio piece. My father sneered at the gift, asked Severus if he had lost his mind, but I loved that rock. The patterns made up shapes and pictures and - if you squinted up your eyes - they could be anything you wanted them to be. It was amazing! And he protected me from my parents' wrath all the time, fixing things or lying about things that went wrong. He taught me to ride a broom, you know, and gave me my first toy broom. Father was so contemptuous, calling it a piece of trumpery rubbish, but I loved that broom and rode it all the time, until my father insisted I have a real broom, not a pathetic child's toy. I had to hide it away safely, or Father would have destroyed it. I still have it." He smiled reminiscently, his audience forgotten as he dwelled on the happy memories of trying to fly with Severus holding the string of the toy broom and running along beside him.

Hermione watched in amazement as the expressions chased their way across his face - joy, anger, terror, longing, amusement, the myriad changes making him look more animated and human than she had ever seen him before. When his expression began to close down again, she waited with bated breath for his next revelation.

"He hates child abuse with a passion that could only be called obsession, did you know that?"

"Could have fooled me," Hermione said flatly.

"No, really, he does!" Draco assured her hastily. "Oh, he has a nasty, sarcastic tongue on him, it's expected and perfected over years of practice, but have you ever seen him raise a fist, or even give the suggestion of a smack in all our years of school? Be honest now. No, you have not. My father once back-handed me across the face in Severus' presence and went flying backwards into the fireplace so hard, he cracked his skull. Oh, Severus is very unenthusiastic about everyday wand magic, but he is fantastic at wandless magic, the best I have ever seen. Severus apologised, of course, but his wandless reaction to the action was so violent, my father never dared raise his hand in front of his lover again."

"His lover?" Hermione gasped in shock. "Your father and Severus Snape were lovers?"

"Oh yes, for years before my parents married and then even afterwards; they kept up a relationship until I was perhaps ten. Mother didn't like it, of course, always sniping at both of them, but she had her own lovers, too, so she had little room to talk. They had a blazing row just before I came to Hogwarts, all three of them, and Uncle Severus promised Mother he would bow out gracefully, which didn't exactly please Father but he did accept it. They had been growing apart for years. I think they were still involved through habit, rather than need or want. Anyway, it wasn't just me Uncle Severus protected; he was also protective of all the children who came to our house. I remember Crabbe's father going over the balcony wall and into the shrubbery head first when he tried to kick Crabbe for some perceived fault. Crabbe senior thought he had slipped, but I knew the difference - and so did Crabbe."

"Do all pure-blood families abuse their children?" Hermione asked in horror.

Draco sneered at her. "Being a Death Eater twists a person until nothing really matters any more. Since Death Eater families were all I came into contact with, I can't speak for the rest of the pure-bloods; but in my experience, yes, all pure-blood children of Death Eaters were almost immune to kicks and cuffs which were part of their daily life."

"That's horrible! My Gods, Draco, how did you survive?"

"What is the old saying, 'ignorance is bliss'? If you don't know any better, how can you change something, or even know what should be changed? If not for Severus' quite different attitude, I would still be as ignorant as all my friends, which would be a blessing in a way, but not in another, do you see?"

"Yes, I see," she said softly, stepping up behind him and laying her hands on his shoulders. He froze as her fingers and palms began to knead at his shoulders, her thumbs digging into the rolls of muscle at his spine. "Relax, Draco, I'm not going to hurt you. Haven't you ever had a neck massage before?"

"No," he replied cautiously, allowing his shoulders to loosen and drop under her ministrations. "Oh yes, that is...! Where did you learn to do things like this, Hermione, it is fantastic!" He was literally purring under her hands as his head drooped further and a shiver ran luxuriously down his spine.

Hermione smiled and worked her way up to the base of his skull, thumbs finding odd little knots of tension and smoothing them out. "My mother taught me. She is quite skilled in massage and acupressure and is taking more courses all the time. One day, if it is ever appropriate, I'll give you a full massage and then see how you like it."

Draco didn't reply, he simply purred.

~~*~~

The Slytherin common room was abuzz with speculation when Draco let himself in later that night. Snape hadn't been back to school for nearly a week and Professor Sinistra had been appointed Head of House pro tem until they could find out what had happened to the Potions Master.

"What if he is dead?"

"What if he left the country, or tried to like Karkaroff, and was killed?"

"What if he was really a spy and the Dark Lord killed him?"

"What if he is on a mission for the Dark Lord and all your speculation is drawing unwanted attention to him?" Draco drawled into the crowd, causing instant silence.

"Do you know something we don't, Draco, or are you just trying to make yourself look important?" Price Coleson demanded, pushing forward. His father was a loyal Death Eater, but of a lowly status.

"I know nothing I am not supposed to, and I plan to keep it that way," Draco replied distastefully in the face of the younger boy's salacious curiosity. "In fact, I would recommend that you all cease to speculate immediately, before less friendly ears choose to question what you really know and the repercussions reach further than you expect."

"He is on a mission," the whispers hissed around the room before everyone drew away and very obviously started new topics of conversation with their friends.

Draco sighed and flung himself into a chair, all the relaxation he had felt in Hermione's presence now washed away in the wave of speculation about his godfather. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Staring into the flames, he half smiled when he considered Hermione's news. Severus was getting better, a little better anyway. He could read again, so that couldn't be all bad. Being in the werewolf's care was a bit of a worry, but even if he did not appreciate Remus Lupin as a teacher, he at least respected him. His father had been very keen to either recruit or kill Lupin and had a healthy respect for both his strength of character and his intelligence. He knew Severus did not like the man at all and that had a lot to do with his own attitude toward the werewolf.

Still, if he was honest with himself, Remus Lupin was a patient and dedicated teacher who did not lose his temper and could explain even the most difficult concepts simply. After all, look how well he had managed to get that oaf Longbottom to perform. Perhaps he was the best person to protect a debilitated Snape and bring him back to some semblance of usefulness.

He was snapped out of his reverie by Pansy sitting down on the arm of his chair and smiling at him eagerly. "You do know something, don't you?" she hissed softly.

"Pansy, if I knew something and had been told not to say anything, do you think I would jeopardise either my life or my word by telling you?" he asked harshly. "The Dark Lord has ways of finding out who has been indiscreet and making sure they are never indiscreet again, do I make myself clear?"

Pansy drew back as if slapped, then nodded quickly. "I'm sorry, Draco, I never thought," she apologised quickly.

"No, you never do," he muttered and turned away, leaving her with a hurt pout on her face as he lounged off to bed.

~~*~~

"Professor Lupin? Remus?" The door opened slowly and a messy dark head peered around the door, light glinting off glasses.

Remus looked up blearily, dragged from a fantastic dream of warmth and light. "Wha... Oh, Harry. Yes, of course. What time is it?"

Harry came into the room, then stopped like a deer caught in the light, his eyes as wide as saucers. Remus Lupin, his favourite professor and his Godfather's husband, was in bed with Severus Snape! "Oh shit! I - I'm sorry... I'll come back later!"

Blinking, Remus looked left and sighed. "Settle down, Harry, it's not what you think." More's the pity, he added mentally. "He had a bad dream, that's all."

"Professor Snape had a bad dream?" Harry questioned in confusion.

"No, not Professor Snape, just Sevvy. Harry, has anyone told you about Severus? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named nearly broke his body, but unfortunately he finally broke his mind, too. At the moment, Sevvy is about four years old and has a real thing for hot chocolate."

"Oh. So that's what Professor Moody was talking about. Oh, he was in a fine old temper, ranting about the unfairness of it all and how Voldemort was slowly destroying everything in our world. Draco said something similar in the hall yesterday evening, something about the Dark Lord slowly leeching the Light out of the world. He was smirking when he said it and I sort of took offence. That's when we got into a fight and, well, it was not pretty. Professor Lupin, can I ask a serious question?"

"I'm sure you can, Harry," Remus teased a little as he settled against his pillows.

"Thanks. Is Malfoy one of ours or not? He has a Dark Mark but he's, he's not...."

Remus blinked, then made a decision. "He really is a sleeper, a very useful one. Who would suspect a Malfoy of all people? He is one of ours in their camp and one of the few information sources we have left, now that Severus is out of the action. I think it's important that you know that, even if others think to protect you from it. Draco is a strange mix of brave and coward, but he has been a valuable ally ever since he decided You-Know-Who was a raving nutter and not very aesthetically pleasing."

Harry did a double take. "'Not very aesthetically pleasing'? You have to be kidding!"

Remus laughed, too. "I told you he was an odd fish."

"He's hanging around Hermione too, and she's not telling him to sod off. In fact, I think I caught them snogging in the back room of the library the other day. I had hoped Hermione and Ron would eventually be a couple, not bloody Malfoy! Damn! I hate the way we're all growing up."

"One of the penalties of being born, I'm afraid. So, how is..." He paused as the stiff figure by his side mewled slightly and began to twitch. "Oh drat, not more tremors. Oh, residual tremors from the Cruciatus Curse, they keep on revisiting long after the deed. Poor Sevvy, it's devastating to see such a fine mind so reduced."

"Excuse me if I don't weep. That greasy git has made my life a living hell for years!"

Remus bowed his head, unable to argue with that.

"And he made sure you were fired from Hogwarts, too," Harry accused childishly, glaring at the stricken teacher as if to punish him after the fact.

"True. However, our history goes back a lot longer and is a lot more delicately balanced than one simple incident. Never mind, just leave it at the fact I owe Severus a debt and I will try to bring him back to full function in payment for that debt. Now Harry, the question is, what are you doing here on this fine Tuesday morning in the middle of term time?"

Harry almost faltered, then sighed deeply. "I overheard something that really worried me yesterday, a couple of Slytherins talking actually. They were trying to find excuses to duck out of the next Hogsmeade weekend, on their parents' orders. Now, it may just be them taking the piss because they saw me lurking close by, but it might not. He has attacked the kids at Hogsmeade before, and I would hate it if any of them did get hurt while I dismissed this information as hearsay and rumour."

"And you couldn't just send an owl?" Remus teased gently, but he did climb out of bed and throw a robe over his pyjamas before padding out, herding Harry before him.

"Owls are disappearing from Hogwarts, some are turning up hurt and others are battered but not broken, their messages plundered. I didn't want to risk Hedwig."

"Oh dear, it's worse than I thought."

They settled in the kitchen and Harry made tea while Remus made toast. Then both of them dissected and discussed Harry's information, including the news of the missing owls.

~~*~~

The dream was a familiar one, the man and the woman arguing over his head, each tugging at his shoulder.

"You can't keep him forever, that is not fair," the man protested angrily.

"I can and I will! If that, that pathetic excuse will not grow up and be responsible, then he doesn't deserve a son, and so his son is forfeited!"

"Ayalindan! He is an adult and he is responsible, he just doesn't want to be a Minister. It's a career decision, not a slap in the face for you...."

"Of course it is! He will do anything he can to spite me, anything! Well, this time he has gone too far. I am taking Roger and he will never see the boy again, ever! At least that way, Roger will grow up with a little ambition and sense of responsibility. He will be an important member of society, instead of a mere flash in the pan!"

The man let go and sighed deeply. "You are a fool, Ayalindan, a cruel fool, and you will only cause pain and anguish for all three of you, if you hold to your course. My brother is a stubborn, stubborn man and you are a stubborn woman, so all I can promise is that only the child will be the loser here." He dropped to his knees so that his eyes were on a level with the young Roger's. "You take care, Roger, and remember, no matter what is said, we love you. If ever you need us, just send an owl, okay?"

"He'll do no such thing! Now get away from us and never darken the door again!"

The bang of the door and the howl of the child made him jump awake as usual, but this time the sounds did not stop when he woke, a soft thump and a tiny whimper making him leap out of bed and stumble to the bedroom door to peer out into the hallway.

Severus Snape sat on the floor outside Remus' door, his knees drawn up to his chin, his arms wrapped tightly around them as he rocked and whimpered. His face was buried in his knees and his spine gently banged into the closed door every time he rocked back against it.

"What's wrong, Severus?" Roger asked, surprised when the man flinched at the sound of his voice, hunching up even tighter.

"Remy's gone," the small voice said tearfully, after a long pause. "And the door shut and I can't open it and I don't know what to do!"

Roger sighed deeply, appalled that such an intelligent and private man should be reduced to this. It was not fair of any of them to keep him on display instead of allowing him to retire to the privacy of St Mungo's special wards. Although - and he hated to have to admit it - the werewolf was making a remarkable job of retraining him. Only a few days ago he was a complete mental vegetable and now he sounded about five or six. Reaching over the small huddle of Potions Master, Roger tried the door handle and found it was locked. Even Alohomora didn't work, so Roger carefully levered the man to his feet and led him into his own bedroom for the time being.

Severus seemed surprised and prowled the room like a cautious cat before perching on the edge of the chair Roger indicated, sitting on his fingers.

"So, how do you feel now, Severus?" Roger asked as he began to dress for the day.

"I got the shakes sometimes, but Remy says that's to be expected. If it hurts I am to tell him straight away," Severus said importantly. "Do you get the shakes?"

"No, not the way you do," Roger assured him with a small smile.

"You're a medi-wizard, aren't you? Remy says you are the best in the Order and probably one of the best in the world. Do you know everything?"

Roger turned with a raised eyebrow, a smile for the naïve question, but the man looked as deadly earnest as only a very young person could. "Not everything," he temporised easily.

"Do you know what this is?" Severus asked pulling up the pyjama sleeve and showing the Dark Mark etched so blackly into his arm. "Remy says not to worry about it, but I think it's a bad thing and he won't tell me anything about it. Can you?"

Roger cursed Remus under his breath but had to say something in the face of the expectant look. "The mark is the sign a very bad man uses to make his followers do as he says. You have the mark because you are usually a spy against the bad man, but you were hurt and you have to have some time to recover."

"Oh," the damaged man seemed to take time to digest this news. "It doesn't wash off, you know? I even used the pot scrubber but it didn't come off in the bath."

"No, Severus, it doesn't wash off," Roger told him sadly.

"It hurts sometimes, not bad, just like a bunch of needles. Was I bad, too?"

For a moment Roger wondered how to answer that one, then shrugged. "When you were very young you did a stupid thing and took the mark willingly. Then you found out the real things the bad man wanted you to do and you decided you were going to destroy him, so you went to Albus Dumbledore and chose to be a spy for the Light."

"Did the bad man find out? Is that why he hurt me?"

"No, Severus, he hurt you because he wanted to and because he could."

"Humm, he is a very, very bad man, then."

Roger laughed bitterly and nodded his head, a deep sigh gusting out of him as the Potions Master's attention wandered away from the subject. "I'm hungry, can I have some breakfast?"

~~*~~

If Remus was surprised to see his charge follow Roger into the kitchen, he didn't let on, simply indicating a seat close to him and conjuring toast and jam onto a plate. Harry watched nervously as his Potions Master ate toast, biting it into shapes and making them walk across his plate while singing to himself in a small undertone.

"Don't dip the toast in your milk, Sevvy, it gets all soggy," Remus said off-handedly and closed his eyes resignedly as the man stuck the very tip of his tongue out cautiously. Shaking his head, Remus rolled his eyes and Harry giggled slightly hysterically. "He is worse than a two-year-old at times."

"Am not!" Severus said sulkily. "I like soggy toast!"

"Then dip it if you wish but if the end falls off and lands in the milk, don't come whining to me again. You have been warned."

"He really is.... Oh man, that is the spookiest thing I have ever seen," Harry muttered in an undertone as the most feared teacher in the school smirked triumphantly and plunged his toast triangle into his glass of milk in satisfaction. "Will he ever get back to normal again? Will he even remember any of this if he does?"

"Who knows?" Roger sighed as he made himself some coffee and joined them at the table. "Should he be doing that?"

"Ignore him, he is just being awkward," Remus said firmly. "Harry brought some grave news. He fears there will be an attack on Hogsmeade this weekend."

"Where's Hogsmeade?" Severus piped up, a milk moustache on his lip. "I don't want to go there, Remy, bad things are going to happen in the sweetshop and the joke shop. You shouldn't go there either, but he can 'cus I don't like him!"

"So some things still don't change," Harry remarked, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out back at the man who was scowling at him.

"Sevvy, behave yourself. What do you mean bad things at the sweetshop and the joke shop?" Remus pressed gently.

The scowl turned into a puzzled frown, then his bottom lip began to tremble. "I can't remember," Severus said miserably, then started as the toast finally dropped into the milk with a soggy splash. Severus stared in astonishment at the wet puddle, then up at Remus in utter surprise. "Wow, you were right, Remy, it did fall in!"

Shaking his head and motioning to Harry to stop laughing, Remus resettled his charge before ducking out and making a firecall to Mundungus Fletcher and Kingsley Shacklebolt. If there was to be an attack on Hogsmeade that very weekend, then they would have to do some very fast planning to save as many people as possible.

~~*~~

"What you doin'?"

"Reading," Remus looked up from the book that had made him chuckle aloud to see Severus' eyes bright and black on him.

"'s funny?"

"Yes, it's about Death, who is a skeleton in black robes, his friend Death of Rats and his granddaughter Susan."

Severus cocked his head on one side then rolled his eyes in an all too familiar way. "Death is not a person and how can it have a granddaughter?"

"It's a Muggle story, Sev, fiction for fun. You are too young to be such a sceptic," Remus teased, patting the cushions beside him on the sofa.

Sev lunged forward and bounced on his backside, shuffling up close so he could look at the book, too. "It's all big words and no pictures," he complained with a whine in his voice.

"Would you like me to read some to you?"

The dark head nodded vigorously, sending his long black hair bobbing about wildly.

"Okay, it's called Soul Music by Terry Pratchett."

Molly heard the very strange noise coming from Remus' room and tapped lightly before putting her head in. She blinked in astonishment when she saw Severus Snape curled up beside Remus Lupin and laughing until tears rolled down his face. "Well, you are looking better, both of you. Would you like some sandwiches and perhaps some hot chocolate?"

"That would be wonderful, Molly." Remus grinned, a finger keeping their place.

"And some tomatoes, please," a small, almost childish voice asked, and Molly managed to smile although Remus caught the shock in her eyes.

"I brought some fresh ones down from the Burrow's gardens this morning, so tomato it is."

When Remus tucked Sev into bed that night, Sev flung his arms around him and kissed him. It was a very adult kiss and, as Remus responded, he felt Severus' hand slide down to cup his buttocks, kneading gently. Gasping, Remus pulled away to study the sleepy black eyes intently but there was no guile there, just tired contentment and remembered laughter. Even though Sev didn't join him in his bed that night, Remus slept badly through some very erotic dreams.