Honor

Honor
Old Wounds and New

Severus looked up from the papers he was grading to see Marcus at the back of the classroom, watching him with an inscrutible expression on his face. The boy had taken to showing up at any point during the day, often earning him curious stares from the students in the class, or irriated glances from Severus.

"What do you want, Marcus?"

The boy smiled slightly, raising an eyebrow at his surly tone. "What makes you think I want anything at all?" His voice was quietly amused, the expression extending to his eyes, making them twinkle in a fashion disturbingly like Honoria's when she had been amused by something he'd said.

"No one comes down into the dungeons by choice, with the exception of my own house." Severus turned his attention back to grading papers, hoping the boy would just leave him alone. Seeing him brought back all the old pain of what could have been, that he'd thought long buried. Apparently not.

Marcus shoved off the wall, coming to perch on one of the desks in the front row. "Mother never really talked about you. Not even to tell me who my father was." He paused, regarding Severus through glittering black eyes, his expression a bit curious, but otherwise well controlled. "What happened that she left you for Alistor Veritas?"

Severus's fingers tightened on the shaft of the quill, nearly snapping the stout goose feather. Of all the subjects he didn't want to talk about, that was at the top of the list. "I made some mistakes when I was younger. I try not to dwell on them, Mr. Veritas."

"Like becoming a Death Eater?" Severus wondered if it was indeed permissible to murder one's offspring. The boy was intent on breaking open all the old wounds, and rubbing salt in them.

"I do not wish to discuss it." He spoke in a flat tone that held a subtle warning not to continue to press the subject. "I trust you have items on your agenda that do not include disturbing me?" He raised one black brow in question, and groaned mentally as Marcus shrugged.

"Not particularly. The books in the library are meant for students, and I've read a majority of them already - with the probable exception of those in the restricted section, which I am not permitted to enter. I would rather not play Quidditch, even if I were permitted to leave the castle, and the students make dull conversationalists, for the most part." He grinned cheekily. "Though there is one lovely young lady who I might try to speak to, if I can charm her out of her tower."

Severus sighed, praying his son was not speaking of any of the various Gryffindors who were the bane of his existance, though there was little doubt he was. "Does she have a name?"

"Mm. Yes, but I don't think I'm going to tell you unless you tell me what happened when mother left you." A mischevious grin lurked at the corners of the boy's mouth, and Severus sighed.

"If I were to guess the name, is it safe to assume you wouldn't tell me I am correct in my supposition?"

Marcus simply smiled, crossing his arms as he leaned back slightly on the desk. The boy was infuriatingly like, and unlike himself at that same age. It made him unpredictable, and Severus was not fond of others being unpredictable.

He sighed, setting the pen in the holder with care. He'd hoped to ignore his past mistakes, but between the war against Voldemort, and the boy sitting in front of him, fate was determined to make him bleed. "What would you have me tell you?"

Marcus shrugged. "Why did you become a Death Eater? What drove you down that path?" He had a puzzled expression on his face, and he waited patiently for an answer. Severus certainly didn't have an easy one, and he had always thought later his reasons at the time were incredibly stupid. But hindsight had that advantage.

"At the time, it appeared to be the quickest route to achieving my ambitions." His voice was quiet, and Marcus uncrossed his arms, leaning forward to listen. "I... The Dark Arts have always been my passion, as much as potions, perhaps more." A sardonic smile flickered over his lips. "If I could be said to have such after that day." He paused again, dark eyes narrowing as he once again tried to figure out why he had made such a damning decision. "They said they could give me an opportunity to become a Potions Master within a year - far sooner than any normal employer would be willing to grant someone that status."

"And?" Marcus prompted him after he'd fallen silent for several minutes. "Did they give you what you were looking for?"

Severus snorted, his eyes meeting Marcus's with a cold, bitter betrayal in them. "I got everything I'd dreamed of. And I lost everything I cared for in the process. Oh, yes, Dumbledore was more than willing to have a spy so high in Voldemort's ranks, but by then, it was too late."

"Mother had already made up her mind." Marcus said it with the finality of someone well acquainted with the person of he spoke. "She was already married."

Severus nodded. "She refused to talk to me, and Alistor was no kinder. I heard of her wedding, and your birth from Albus." He laughed, a dry sound with no amusement in it. "What other old wounds are you determined to reopen?"

Marcus tilted his head. "I never had the chance to ask mother. Who knows if I ever will?" His voice was low, with the undertone of regret that Snape recognized all too easily. "Mother told me to go ahead of her into the carriage, that she'd be along in just a moment, she wanted to say goodbye without everyone around. She didn't come back, and I went to get out of the carriage, to go look for her. That's when I saw them. One Death Eater had mother tossed over his shoulder like a sack of vegetables, and he Apparated before I could even get my wand out. The other didn't wait for me to do anything, just hit me with a curse. Cruciatus curse, unless they've come up with something else that painful. Just enough to keep me from doing anything as he tucked a piece of parchment into my robe, and tell me 'Deliver that to Snape, courtesy of the Dark Lord' before he left as well."

The pang of guilt took Severus by surprise. He'd broken his promise to himself, brooding in his rooms while she was attacked, and kidnapped. Drank himself into oblivion while her son - their son - was tortured, and given one more person to mourn. He turned away, refusing to allow Marcus to see the pain in his own soul. He wouldn't add to the weight already on those young shoulders.

"Mother always used to do that." Marcus's voice was loud in the brooding silence, and Severus frowned, turning to meet the boy's black gaze once more. "Turn away when she didn't want somebody seeing what she was feeling. I guess she didn't want to burden the rest of us with her pain."

"And she probably had a good reason to do so," Severus snapped, his temper fraying again. It didn't appear to phase Marcus in the least, the boy merely raising an eyebrow at his tone of voice.

"It never helped. I knew when she was hurting anyway. So did Alistor. It just drove a rift between them, between her and me." Marcus shrugged. "I wonder if she did that before she left."

It was another careful dig for information, but this time, Severus was in no mood to pick at old wounds and make them bleed anew. "Then you will keep wondering. Now, Mr. Veritas, I have papers to grade, and you have wasted enough of my time."

Marcus's eyes blazed a warning at the sharp tone, but he stood, and turned to leave regardless, tossing one last jab over his shoulder as he left. "It's easy to figure out why mother left you. You don't know how to tell people about yourself."

Severus clenched his fists, reining in the urge to wrap his hands around Marcus's throat for hitting so close to the bone. The boy was too perceptive for his own good.

~~~~~~

Marcus ruthlessly pushed the rage down, backing it into the corner of his mind where it always lurked, waiting for a chance to cloud his judgement. He'd had a lot of practice with his mother, and his classmates at Pendragon. I cannot let weakness show. Not here, expecially not now. He stared off in front of him as he strode towards the room he'd been given for the interim, until they'd eliminated the threat to him, not noticing the students around him. Until one of them roughly jostled them.

"Watch where you're going." The voice held a distinct sneer, and Marcus brought his attention back to the here and now, his focus sharpening on the sight of a thin, pale face.

"And who are you that I should listen to you?" Marcus kept his voice even, the tone low and silky soft. He'd found it got results, either in intimidating some fool, or charming a young lady.

The blond boy's grey eyes narrowed, and Marcus noticed two boys with builds like gorillas come up on either side. "You're going to regret that, Veritas." His voice was a hiss of anger, and a nod of his head had the two gorilla's coming forward.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, noting the students flattening themselves against the corridor walls, eyes watching in anticipation of a fight. Well, no need to dissapoint them. "Are you so much a coward as to be afraid to face me yourself?" He smirked at the flush of rage that painted the boy's face, though he carefully backed away, letting his wand slip down his sleeve to dangle in his fingers.

"Goyle! Crabbe!" The two larger boys stopped, looking back in confusion. "I'll deal with this little upstart myself." The pale grey eyes narrowed to slashes of silver, as he shed his black school robe, the uniform underneath filled out with a lean, but powerful frame. Marcus let a smirk twitch at the corners of his lips again, handing his cloak to the lovely young lady whom he'd been trying to charm the other night - to no avail with her brother around, of course.

"I would like the name of the person I am about to mop the floor with, if I may?" He chuckled softly at the anger that flashed across the pointed features again. "Well? The cat got your tongue?" He heard a smattering of nervous giggles in the crowd behind him, and his smile widened as he settled into a defensive crouch, his wand at the ready.

The pale boy responded with a curse, and Marcus ducked, tossing his own spells back. They were, to his surprise, fairly evenly matched, both in agility and speed as well as repitiore of curses and hexs. Neither had gotten in any major blows when Professor Snape appeared from the direction of his classroom, his expression boding ill for the two combatants. Marcus dodged another, particularly vicious, curse, this time hitting the boy with a disarming charm, catching the wand deftly as the students scattered, and his father arrived on the scene.

"Good afternoon, sir." Marcus smiled smoothly, his expression bland - as if he hadn't just been caught dueling with a student in the hallways. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

He caught the upward twitch of Snape's eyebrow, and raised one smoothly in reply. It didn't amuse the older man in the least, temper snapping in his black eyes. "You will hand over your wand, temporarily, to me, and then we will all have a nice chat with the headmaster concerning your actions."

"I'd be delighted." He smiled, handing Snape both wands, and greatly enjoying the expressions on the faces of both his father and Malfoy. Rule number one of Marcus code - Never be predictable.

~~~~~~

Severus watched Marcus with a wary eye as he retrieved his cloak from Ginny Weasley, before clamping a hand down on a shoulder of each of the younger men, and marching them to Dumbledore's office. He could have just as easily assigned detention to Malfoy, but Marcus was a different matter.

"Ah, Severus. What is it?" Dumbledore looked at him over half-moon spectacles, his eyebrows raised at the two young men who stood in front of his desk.

"I found these two dueling outside my classroom." Actually, he thought, Miss Granger came in to tell me that there was a duel going on, and to ask me to stop it. Blasted girl.

He felt Marcus shrug one shoulder under his hand. "He challenged me. I thought I'd put on a good show." His tone was one of indiffert amusement, and he heard a growl from Draco.

"He ran into me..."

"Excuse me." Marcus's voice had gone icy cold and silky soft. "I believe it was you who ran into me. Rather a flimsy excuse to set your goons on me. But then again," his voice took on a hint of smirking amusement, "what am I to expect from some spoiled little brat?"

It took both him and Dumbledore to keep Draco from lunging at Marcus, while his son simply stood there, and smirked, his eyes shuttered. Severus's eyes narrowed. What is he playing at?

"Oh, if I might..." Marcus plucked his wand from Severus's pocket with the deftness that spoke of having done something similar often. "I really don't like leaving my wand in the care of others. Something might happen to it, and then I would be really rather upset." His tone was even, and he shrugged slightly, turning to leave. Draco was still not being cooperative, and he couldn't release the boy to stop Marcus. "I'll be about, should you need to speak to me later, but I believe I said something about charming a lovely young lady out of her tower."

"Excuse me, Mr. Veritas, but I would like to have a word with you, shortly. You can wait just outside, if you care to." Dumbledore's words made Marcus stop, and turn, an expression that was icy cold on his face. Contempt was easily read... well, for Severus, it was easy to read, but for him, it was like reading his own expression in the mirror.

"And what might that 'word' be about, Headmaster Dumbledore?" His words had a clipped, precise quality about them that bespoke carefully contained rage, and Severus frowned at the anger that seethed and flared suddenly in the boy's eyes. And the struggle to contain it.

"Oh, nothing much. We just need to know what Hagrid should retrieve from your home to bring here." Draco had finally calmed down, and Dumbledore stepped away, leaving Severus to keep the Slytherin under some sebelence of control. The old man smiled benignly at Marcus, and Severus nearly snorted. That would not help his case with the boy any.

"Dear me, I can't think of all that much." The sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife. "I really haven't much more than a house full of belongings and memories that I'd care to return to." He returned Dumbledore's raised eyebrow with an intense stare that Severus was certain had done well at intimidating people in the past.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore had been dealing with him for seventeen years, and was mostly immune to it. Disconcerting as it must have been coming from someone so young once again. "I'm sorry, Mr. Veritas, but we can't send you home, as you are well aware."

"Most regretibly, sir." He paused, a faint sneer on his face. "But if you must ask me to pare down the list, some clothing, some books I haven't already read, and Misty. She'll be most upset she's been forgotten in all the mess. Despite my request when I first came that someone check on my cat." He spun on his heel, and stalked out, giving none of those in the office a chance to say anything to him before the tail of his cloak whipped out of sight down the staircase.

Dumbledore sat down, regarding Severus through a weary gaze. "And Severus, I regret to saddle you with another responsibility, but I must ask that you keep an eye on Mr. Veritas while he is here." Severus suppressed the urge to groan, as Dumbledore continued. "I shall leave the decision on what to do with Mr. Malfoy up to you. I expect, though, that he will not display such poor judgement in his actions again for a while?" He was giving Draco an expectant look now, and the Slytherin grudgingly agreed, though Severus doubted he'd keep that promise beyond the doorway.

"Mr. Malfoy, I expect you to report to Filch at eight o'clock tomorrow evening for your detention." Severus let him leave, before sinking into a chair, staring back at Dumbledore. "Other than the small fact he is my son, is there a reason I am to be saddled with Marcus?"