Snape the Younger

Coffin Nails

This final suite of rooms was the biggest of the three Albus had shown him consisting of a large general room, a bedroom and a bathroom. It was not as conveniently placed to the office he was to occupy but it was closer to the laboratory he had been allocated. The place was bare of furnishings, windowless and empty, the flagstones still rough at the edges of the room. It had obviously not been inhabited for a very long time or even very often but it was the most welcoming place so far.

"Thank you, Headmaster, this suite will be perfect," Severus assured the older man as he stepped further into the room and surveyed the fireplace, already populating the walls with his bookshelves and the floor with a thick wool rug from his flat.

"Are you sure, Severus, it's rather dark and lonely. There are no windows either," Albus said worriedly, not having expected the man to take this particular set of rooms as he had only offered it as a contrast to make the other sets of rooms look more desirable. Still, he had known how contrary Severus could be so he should have expected something like this.

"It is cool and comfortable. I expect the temperature rarely changes down here so it will be no problem to heat in winter and I will not have to waste energy cooling it in summer," Severus replied absently as he opened the bedroom door and approved the size of the room and of the bathroom. "I wonder if I could put a shower in here. I rather prefer them to baths as an everyday solution to cleanliness," he mused, eyeing the space assessingly.

"You could certainly try but the castle is somewhat reluctant to bend to the inhabitants' wishes," Albus twinkled, patting his arm. "Now then, the school has lots of furniture stored here and there about the place if you want to use it, or you can bring in your own furnishings from the outside."

"I have a house-elf, can she come here too?"

"Er, I'm not sure she would want to, house-elves tend to be a little territorial sometimes, but if she does then I see no problem," Albus assured him. "So, how long do you think it will take you to get settled in?"

"A day or two should see the bulk of the move completed. Most of my affairs are in order but there are some things that cannot be ignored. Still, there is not much left to do. I assume teachers are not confined to the castle during the term time as the children are," he questioned thoughtfully, hoping the older man did not catch the significance behind his question.

Albus' twinkling eyes became shrewd. "No-o, but we do prefer staff to be here as there are supervisory tasks, patrol duties and student coaching as well as detention sessions to monitor."

"Humm, very well, I shall make suitable alternative arrangements where I can."

Albus did not comment but remained thoughtfully silent for quite some time.

~~*~~

The bed was huge, a carved ebony head and foot board depicting scenes from Russian folk lore and spring fertility rites. The posts were covered in carved vines and wheat sheaves supporting brocaded Chinese silk curtains in shades of green and silver. The enormous bedstead had been part of his mother's dowry and had been discarded and moved to an obscure storeroom by his father on her death. Severus had always known where it was stored and had rescued it when he began furnishing his flat. He could vaguely remember curling up with his mother in her suite when he was very young and having her sing to him when thunderstorms had banged and thumped around the Manor's turrets. The old feather mattress had long fallen to rats so a purely Muggle mattress of the finest design, custom built to seven feet long had been purchased and installed on the enormous seventeenth century frame. Three extra house-elves had to come and help Nimbil transport the heavy antique to Hogwarts because, as a treasured possession, Severus insisted that it was one of the first things to go.

Most of his bookshelves had been transported and all of his books, carefully arranged back on the shelves by the almost anal retentive Nimbil. He was also taking his expandable dining suite that went from an intimate two person size to big enough to seat ten people in comfort for a full course banquet with all the requisite cutlery and glassware. It too was an antique but not as significant as the bed. After a lot of thought he had not taken his sofa and wing chairs, instead picking a suite up from Snape Manor that was equally comfortable but held no memories of any sort, an anonymous dark leather suite from one of the guest apartments.

He had flooed into Malfoy Manor and picked up a lot of his clothes and books from Lucius, accepting his teasing and assistance to move the huge amounts of papers, magazines, books and multiple bookshelves to Hogwarts. It was amazing how many things accumulated when a person lived anywhere for any length of time and he had been living in the guest suite at Malfoy Manor for a very long time.

"Have you any wall space left?" Lucius asked as the last Malfoy house-elf left with a pop and an armload of vials from Severus' laboratory under the Manor's main wing. All his private stock of ingredients had been moved to his new laboratory under the Slytherin wing of Hogwarts and carefully locked up under an almost unbreakable spell for safety. A few things could not go; simply because they were so Dark that the wards on Hogwarts bounced even a house-elf in the course of its duties back to its starting point.

Severus smirked. "Probably a clear foot or two next to the wall-mounted manacles," he teased then laughed aloud at Lucius' interested look. "It's Hogwarts, Lucius, even the dungeons are sterilised clean and swept. Not a torture instrument or a speck of blood left to be seen."

"Oh well, it's the thought that counts. Will you be alright up there in the wilds of Scotland and amongst the wild animals of the Hogwarts school population?"

"Oh, I think I will survive. I am letting my flat out as I won't need it and a couple of the Dark Lord's overseas friends want to be closer to the action so they move in next week. I am having Nimbil bring down furniture from the Manor for them. So, tonight is our last night at home and I am cooking dinner for a change," Severus mused thoughtfully until Lucius burst out laughing.

"I hope you aren't planning to poison our Lord with your concoctions," he teased.

"I'll have you know I am a very fine cook!" Severus protested before he recognised the glint of amusement in Lucius' eyes and grinned back. "Enough of this inappropriate levity, I have shellfish to prepare!"

Lucius' laughter was still ringing in his ears as he apparated away.

~~*~~

The workroom was empty of cauldron, vial and utensil, except for the pitiful cluster left on the main table. A vial of straw-pale fluid sparkled in the light of the torches like the finest French champagne. The potion had taken a full forty hours to brew and simmer the ingredients almost hair raising and there had been incantations to say in High Court, just to complicate matters. It amused him that his Grandmother's teachings were being put to such a use, but it saddened him too. If he had done his work well then he may or may not discover information he really wasn't sure he wanted.

It had taken quite a lot of research to even find the necessary quantities of each ingredient to be used in the potion. Potions that opened one mind to another were usually kept closely guarded secrets by their creators as they were indeed a double-edged sword. To make the task even more difficult, Snapes tended to be a paranoid lot and his three times great-grandfather was no exception to that rule. Consequently the effects and side effects were not particularly documented so, while Severus knew the potion would join his mind to Tom's, he was not sure how it would happen, what he would find or what side-effects to expect. He shook his head to remove the conflicting thoughts.

Next to it was a slip of parchment with a single word written upon its creamy surface. Mealich. It was a meaningless collection of letters but imbued in the single word was all memories of brewing the small vial of champagne-coloured fluid that rested so innocuously beside it. The trick to hiding memories and information under a single key word was something he had only read about in an obscure book by another ancestor but he had decided to try it as it would be a potent tool if he was to spy on Dumbledore for any length of time. Besides, he didn't dare let Tom find out - even accidentally - he had been trying to mentally steal his secrets. Tom was not a very forgiving soul at the best of times and being his lover would not spare Severus from the worst of his wrath should he discover that truth.

On the other side of the paper was a small vial of blood, ruby red and viscous, his own blood mixed with the small sample of Tom's blood he had collected the week before. The two bloods intertwined would personalise the champagne potion so that his mind would be connected to Tom's in the most intimate way possible, to the exclusion of everything else. Once he decided to mix the blood and the potion, his path would be set in stone with no chance of escaping the consequences, and again he wondered if he really wanted to face those consequences. Did he really care if Tom was going to steal his soul or if it was just one of his Grandmother's constant barrages of threats and taunts?

The final vial seemed empty, only a faint hint of mist at the bottom. If he took the potion he would have at least an hour before it kicked in, plenty of time to remove the memory, seal it in the vial and not even Tom would realise he had brewed or taken such a potent mind-altering potion. If all went well then Tom would never know his barriers had been breached and he would never realise Severus had more information than he should have. If it was bad news for Severus, he would take steps to protect himself. If it was good news for Severus, he would have his Grandmother's ghost exorcised at the very first opportunity. He stood staring at the trio of vials for a very long time before he slowly reached forward.

It looked like champagne, it smelled like fruity elixir and when he added the blood it turned a deep, sparkling crimson, reminiscent of the beautiful burgundies of France. Carefully capping the blood vial without spilling a trace of the smear left on the glass, he raised the potion and swallowed half very swiftly. It didn't taste too bad; a little metallic on his tongue but nothing like as foul as even a common analgesic. He drank the rest and capped the vial before calling to Nimbil.

The house-elf listened to her master, nodding vigorously as she took the empty vials and the letter, waiting patiently until he drew out the memory and capped the crystal tube. Reaching forward, the house-elf slipped it from his fingers, reminded him he was preparing dinner for two and then vanished softly away. Severus frowned, glanced around the empty room then shrugged and hurried off to the kitchen to finish preparing his dinner for Tom.

~~*~~

"Oysters and champagne?" Tom grinned, taking a sip of the very fine Moet. "Are you planning to seduce me, my Severus?"

"Probably repeatedly." Severus grinned back, turning the plate and offering the golden browned Mornay for his guest's pleasure. "I wasn't sure how you like your oysters so I made three types."

"I like my oysters any way they come," Tom assured him, leaning forward to kiss him lightly before selecting a shell and feeding him the plump juicy shellfish with a seductive smile.

The food, the little touches and sweet kisses were all designed to relax and entice but something niggled at the back of Severus' mind, even as he licked Tom's fingers clean of juice. His stomach felt just a little bit noticeable too, not painful, not uncomfortable, just in his awareness as internal organs should not be. Dismissing the fancy, he rose and took away the plate of empty shells, smiling as Tom rose and followed him to the kitchen, both champagne flutes in his hands. The older wizard hitched his hip onto the counter as Severus opened the oven and pulled out a tray with two perfectly risen soufflés on it with a triumphant smile.

"Well, that is impressive," Tom congratulated, carefully closing the oven door as Severus bore their next course out triumphantly to the table. He held the chair while Severus sat down then hurried around to place his napkin on his lap as Severus placed his soufflé in front of him. It was delicious, so light and fluffy that Tom barely noticed when Severus stopped eating; pressing his stomach as if it pained him.

Severus frowned then shook his head a fraction as the odd spasm passed, tasting his salmon soufflé and nodding in pleasure, it was perfect but there was a very slightly metallic flavour that lingered on the back of his tongue with odd intensity. Dismissing it, he continued to eat; taking real pleasure in Tom's very evident enjoyment of the food he had spent so much time preparing.

"If I'd known you could cook like this, Severus, I would have insisted you do it more often," Tom laughed, glancing up at his dining partner with a smile that metamorphosed into a frown when he saw the fixed expression on Severus' face. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, I feel... odd," Severus said with a puzzled frown then whipped his head around as something moved in the corner of his eye.

"What is it, Severus?"

"I don't know, I thought I saw something run across the floor, but...." he opened his mouth to complete the sentence when a massive cramp doubled him over, making him moan in pain.

Tom rushed to his side as Severus' head slammed into the table, catching him and easing him to the floor. "Bloody hell, the oysters.... You might have gotten a tainted one, my Severus," he gasped as the boy tried to curl into an even tighter knot.

"No, I got them fresh...," Severus tried to blink and focus on his lover between the rolling waves of pain, then he felt his eyes expanding as if the eyeballs were going to explode. He almost shrieked as he fell forward, alien memories and thoughts slamming into his mind, flashes of scenes and conversational snippets, bombarding him with ruthless intensity. He mewled in agony as his sight became haloed, everything limned in a blinding haze that flashed rainbow hued knives at him, slashing through his brain, tearing at the fabric of his reality. A small part of his brain realised he was falling into Tom's unconscious mind just before it engulfed the last vestiges of his control and tossed him adrift in the turbulent sea of seething emotion so foreign to his own regimented self.

'God what an ugly little bastard, he should just die!' The man stared down at the bloodied and skinned carcass on the bed. "What was young Malfoy thinking of?'

'How does he do that? How much magic does he have?' Wandless magic used without any real effort, it was not possible, it should be draining and exhausting but the boy just did it without any after-effects.

'Watch him; is he more powerful than me?' The curses flying around the skirmishing factions just bounced off Severus' protego without effect, his protection was as strong as any Tom had ever witnessed and yet the boy was unaware of his own strength. How dare he be so invulnerable?

'Kill him! He's dangerous!' How dare he argue with me in front of others, I am his lord and master, he will do as I say and he will not question me. I will tear his liver out, smash him, crush him, how dare he even think to cross wills with me, I am the Lord, he is a worm, crawling in the dirt at my feet. I hate him, I loath him, I want his power!

'Don't kill him, turn him, make him dependent, and woo him, harness his magic, steal it, use it. It's a much better plan, much more subtle.' Show him what he can do, make him over into your own image; warp him into the path you want him to follow. He is a tricky little bastard but his mind is fast, use it to test your plans and sharpen them.

'Look at him, all clinical detachment, torture will not turn him back, he needs something else. Find the key, open his secrets.' An apology sticks in the craw but sounds so sincere; a stroking hand, a gentle touch, sickening but necessary and cheaper than spells. Acceptance again, coaxed back to compliance, the fool!

'How dare he question me, I am his master, I own him!' The demon coming out of the child's sacrificed body, clawing and fighting to get free. It rakes his face and only goes after Severus chanted the words of the banishing ritual. The superior smirk when he turned the body into a rabbit and fried it, disgusting!

'Fuck the little whore, make him dependent on your love, don't muzzle him, he will do it himself.' Pet him, pat him, make him dependent, encourage him to talk while listening and learning, steal his secrets and make his strength your own. Show him some little signs of favour, give him the public acknowledgement and respect he craves. It costs nothing and it brings the others to heel, a double benefit.

'He craves love and acceptance; he is so desperate for it you can taste it!' Offer it to him and he will offer up his soul with a willingness that is only surpassed by his neediness of acceptance. I can use a soul like this, totally and freely given will make it even more valuable to feed the demons.

'How did he do that? What did he do? I want the knowledge, I crave it!' Blood soaked and injured but still as strong as ever, his mind divided into three entities, each as powerful in its own right as the whole, the composite whole stronger than a wizard should really be. He is both a Legilimens and an Occlumens of considerable natural ability and I want the secret to his learning for my very own. I WANT IT!

'Mine, give me your magic. Show me how you did that! MINE! I demand it!' He has healed a beating heart with the ease of a master, I want that skill and that knowledge, I will kill him to possess it, or I will absorb him completely to get what is mine, it is mine, he is mine, my possession!

'Don't steal it; he is naïve enough to give it willingly.' A touch of the hand, a public acknowledgement of him as a lover, just a few scraps of notice before the masses and he melted, unable to hide his infatuation or should that be slavish devotion. It was so easy to capture a heart that was willingly sacrificed.

'I want it; I crave it, its mine, it's mine! How dare he have it and I do not. Mine!' They lay in bed, Severus crying and mewling like a kicked puppy, spilling his fear of his grandmother and her training methods, whining about the unfairness of it all but haemorrhaging information as unconsciously as he dripped fear-sweat.

'Give me what I want, he is mine and I deserve it.' The ghost of a malignant woman gibbered and capered before him, taunting and teasing, spewing poison, dangling the coveted information like a carrot just out of reach.

'A deal, Bitch, teach me and I will not destroy you or let him exorcise you.' Tom sent the ghost a vision of Severus laid out for the sacrifice, dead and disembowelled, his soul fed to demons to appease them and buy further power to be used as Tom saw fit. He then sent a second vision of a triumphant Severus at Tom's side, his Grandmother's ghost fading into the nether-regions as the Master of Rites read the Banishment Ritual from the Snape Book of Service.

'Love him? Hah, what a laugh! He is useful, when he stops being useful then he is nothing.' Tom giving orders to Severus couched as requests and Severus dashing off to do as he was bidden, even if he disagreed with the method like a well trained lackey.

'I own his soul and his body, he will kill for me and die for me and all it costs me is a kind word; the utterly pathetic excuse for a lovesick man-whore.' Severus guarding Tom's side, killing anything that got too close, his magic covering Tom without a thought for his own safety. Tom using that protection, without ever thinking what it may have cost his lover to create the spells.

'He is almost used up; his usefulness is almost at an end. I have a new toy now.' Severus clutching the baby and watching as Tom nuzzled up to Narcissa Malfoy, no censure crossing his lips, all held tightly behind his teeth as he left without protest. The different taste of Narcissa's white flesh and enslaved soul; sickeningly sweet after the tart mixture of Severus' respect without fear.

'I need only one more repository for my soul fragments. You may have him, I will choose something else.' Again the ghost of Grandmother taunting and bargaining for the use of Severus' body after his soul was destroyed. Tom had listened to the negotiations and agreed to the trade-off. Severus was of no use once Tom had his knowledge and so he became a disposable item. He would be given to his grandmother to dispose of as she wished, in exchange for a new body and soul to use to his discretion.

'Don't die now, I haven't finished with you. I need your body for a bargaining chip.' Tom was knelt over the convulsing body of his lover, concerned yes, but only to the extent it might affect his bargain with Severus' grandmother and the demons she kept at her beck and call.

Severus gasped like a landed fish, unable to process all the information that was bombarding him, too horrified to move, too terrified to break the connection or hear Tom's voice over the biting, spitting, poisonous roar of his thoughts. Pictures accompanied the over-voice, contempt and disgust, lust and hatred, amusement and sheer green jealousy controlling and colouring everything Tom thought. Moments Severus treasured were twisted and destroyed by the new input from the strange connection they were sharing gave him.

Everything Tom had said, everything he had professed, every declaration of love was a lie, a useful way of moulding Severus to him, of binding his loyalty and magic to the cause. He was nothing to Tom, just a useful tool to be used and discarded once its usefulness was over. Tom did not love him, Tom used him and abused his trust and when he was finished with him, Tom planned to give him back to the only person Severus truly feared, his grandmother. Turning, he tried to focus on the man hovering over him but was almost overwhelmed by the dizziness the movement caused. When his head caught up with his mind he realised he was looking up at a stranger. This stranger had a skull-like face, almost reptilian in a melted wax fashion. Thin wisps of dark hair clung lankly to the high-domed skull and red, vertically pupiled eyes glared down from lash-less, almost lidless sockets while a pinkish tongue flicked out to wet lips so thin they were almost non-existent. Was this the true appearance of his lover, this snake thing, this travesty of a man? He felt a scream of unbelievable betrayal building behind his teeth as a second pair of very small hands began pulling at his lip, trying to open his mouth.

"Master Severus, Master Severus, please, please, drink this potion for Nimbil," the small elf begged tearfully.

Severus managed to unclench his jaw long enough to swallow then whimpered again. "Nimbil, take me to my bed," he managed to gasp before a new wave of pain hit and he began to convulse.

The house-elf glanced fearfully at the older wizard who glared down at her, his eyes flashing red with fury and what looked like fear. Nimbil saw exactly what her Master had seen and knew her time was over; this man was going to destroy her very, very soon! The small elf did not want to leave her master but she saw it was necessary, that her life was the price that was needed to bring her master to safety. It was a house-elf's sacred duty to serve their Masters to the very best of their ability with everything they had, including their lives when necessary. So be it! She squeaked once then, shivering and trembling at the knowledge she had gained, she snapped her fingers and they vanished. Tom stared down at the empty space in disbelief, then roared in inarticulate rage before springing up and disapparating immediately.

26/10/2006