Slugging It Out

Chapter 13 - Salvation

Severus turned away from his former home and dragged his trunk down to the mill. It was heavy and cumbersome, and he knew he wouldn't get far with it. Of course, he could lighten or levitate it with magic, but now he was homeless the thought of getting expelled seemed a lot more frightening. So he pulled it along using only his puny muscles, down to the river. The mill building squatted on the bank, its red brick façade seeming to radiate heat like a furnace. He kicked his way through the boards covering one of the entrances. Inside was hot and dark, with a strong smell of urine.

He hid the trunk in a corner, hoping that none of the flotsam and jetsam of humanity that frequented the abandoned building would find it. The locks were magical, but he supposed a determined enough Muggle could simply smash the thing with brute force. He sat on the lid for a while, head in his hands, thinking through his options. They were limited and none of them were very appealing.

Eventually, he packed his schoolbag with his robes, the little money he had, and his wand. He would do as he'd suggested to his mother, and go to Diagon Alley. It was the only wizard area he knew how to access. He felt very strongly that he wanted to be with wizards, in the magic world. There was nothing left for him amongst Muggles now. He'd have to decide how to get his trunk back when the time came to head back to Hogwarts. He had vague ideas of getting a job - something menial that wouldn't require magic - and returning for his things once he had somewhere to live.

It was easy enough hitching down to London, with a bit of patience. A lorry driver eventually took pity on him and by nightfall he found himself outside the Leaky Cauldron. He entered the bar, and allowed his eyes to accustom to the dim light. It was very quiet, and the barman looked up over-eagerly when Severus entered. 'Good evening, sir,' he said politely. 'What can I get you?'

Severus crossed the deserted pub to face him across the bar. 'How much does it cost to stay here overnight?' he asked, turning over the few coins in his pocket.

'Five Galleons a night, six if you want breakfast,' responded the barman, appraising Severus sceptically. He clearly doubted that Severus could afford it. And he was right.

'Do you have any jobs going? I work hard, and I'll do anything. In fact, I'd work here just for board and food.' He knew he sounded desperate.

The barman laughed bitterly and gestured around the empty room. 'In case you hadn't noticed, we aren't exactly rushed off our feet, lad. There's nothing going, I'm afraid. Now, can I get you a drink, or not?' There was an edge of hostility in his voice now.

'No thanks,' replied Severus, trying not to sound as disappointed as he felt. He felt the barman's eyes on him as he walked to the other exit, the one that led to Diagon Alley. Outside the door he quickly changed into his robes and cloak, discarding his Muggle clothes in the pub's smelly bins. Possessing Muggle items was not a good idea for anyone hoping to survive in the present wizard world. Once suitably attired, he tapped his wand to the wall, and watched as the bricks rearranged themselves into an archway.

It was the first time he'd been to Diagon Alley in the dark. By night it had a gloomy, menacing feel. Orange flamed lamps guttered and flickered, casting strange shadows across the narrow cobbled streets. The rickety buildings loomed overhead. A few upper windows were dimly lit, but no one seemed to be about. The shops themselves of course were shut. He made his way down the road to the pub that stood at the other end, but that was closed and dark. Perhaps the bad business had taken its toll.

He stood in the road, staring at the façade of the pub and wondering what the hell to do. He felt more lost and alone at that moment than he had at any point in his directionless and lonely life so far. He had nowhere to go, no money, no food, no friends, and performing magic would put him at risk of expulsion from school. There were four more weeks of summer holiday to get through, and he'd need to find a way to get his possessions back from Yorkshire before the Hogwarts Express left King's Cross.

With an effort, he pulled himself together. There was nothing he could do to help his situation at that moment, other than keep his head and be prepared for the morning. At least it wasn't cold. He found a deeply recessed shop doorway, and wedged himself uncomfortably into it. He drew his cloak around himself, more for security than warmth. He'd never before realised just how hard and unyielding the ground was. He focussed on the gentle flickering of the lamp opposite, reminding himself of where he was. Better to sleep on the street in the wizarding world, than live in a house in the Muggle one.

*****

He awoke early the next morning, as the grey light of dawn was spreading across the sky. Diagon Alley looked worse by day. The streets were litter-strewn, several shops were boarded up. Two appeared to be burned out, one with the words 'Muggle scum out' graffitied in big red letters across the front. Severus ached all over, and felt a gnawing hunger. He pushed himself up to sitting, wriggling to work life back into his ground-numbed limbs.

There was no sign of any people, giving him an uneasy sense of being alone in a ghost town. It was as though everyone had sneaked away overnight. No longer able to bear the pain in his stomach, he got to his feet and began to pick through the rubbish along the pavements, hoping to find some food. He was finally rewarded in the alley next to the ice cream parlour, where he found a cardboard box of stale ice cream cones. One corner had been nibbled away by something, and as he hungrily manhandled the box a huge brown rat appeared and bared its teeth at him. Alarmed, he raised his wand. The rodent snarled and turned tail. It obviously knew that wands meant trouble.

He retreated with his spoils to the back steps of shop, and gobbled through the stale wafer. At first he was too hungry to notice the taste or texture much. It wasn't unpleasant - rather like eating cardboard - but after the initial edge of his hunger was blunted, he realised he was very thirsty. Every mouthful became harder, clogging inside his mouth in a dry hard ball which he could barely bring himself to swallow.

Having crammed down the last few mouthfuls of wafer, he went in search of water. Unfortunately it had been a very dry summer and there weren't even any puddles he could drink from. Finally, tired and despairing, he sat down outside the closed pub and waited for the street to open for business. The sun had risen above the ragged roofline before the first signs of life emerged. Shop doors began to open. A witch with a broom swept her front step energetically, tutting at the sight of the street beyond. Several owls came and went, bearing letters and parcels. Signs in shop doors flipped round from 'closed' to 'open'. Severus flexed his legs, and stood again. It was time to go job hunting.

By midday, he was exhausted and broken spirited. He'd tried every shop in the street, and been greeted with suspicion in every one. The best were apologetic but firm - business was too bad to take on more staff. The worst were openly hostile, telling him to get out before they called the Aurors, or accusing him of being a Death Eater spy. The kindest - a plump witch in the Apothecary's - agreed to get him a glass of water, but did so with obvious trepidation, trembling as she handed it over. She softened a little when she saw Severus gratefully gulp it down, maybe realising he had no more sinister motive than being a thirsty boy on a hot day, and even got him another.

He began to try the side streets, but found them if anything more desolate than Diagon Alley itself. A few shoppers had emerged, but nothing like the bustling throng that he remembered from the summers of his first years at Hogwarts. They were mostly adults, moving in twos or threes, wands out, eyes darting. People viewed Severus with deep suspicion or even fear.

Finally, he found himself at the entrance to Diagon Alley's least respectable offshoot. If anywhere was going to be doing well in such times, surely it was the insalubrious neighbourhood around Knockturn Alley? The place had always been a source of fascination for him on his previous trips, but Lily's upstanding presence had prevented him from exploring further on those occasions. Now he made his way down, pausing in to look in the windows. The buildings were so tall and the street so narrow that most of the light was blocked out, making it cool and gloomy despite the noonday sun.

There were more people around here, but they stayed in the shadows, muttering. He felt eyes on him wherever he walked. It seemed he was going to encounter as much suspicion here as in respectable Diagon Alley. Street vendors flashed trays of body parts at him, and one wart covered hag tried to force a necklace of human teeth into his hands. 'I give you good price,' she repeated in a cracked voice. He ducked into the nearest shop to escape.

The shop was dimly lit and the air was heavy with dust, catching in his sensitive potion-maker's nose with every breath. He could make out various objects in display cases as he moved warily towards the counter. A man materialised out of the darkness, watching Severus shrewdly. He raised a questioning eyebrow. Severus cleared his throat and asked, 'Um... I was wondering if you had any work going?'

'You Ministry spies get younger by the day,' sneered the shopkeeper.

At least this was a slightly different kind of rejection. 'I'm not a Ministry spy. I'm still at school.'

'You amaze me.' The shopkeeper began to fiddle with something behind the counter. 'Well, funnily enough there aren't any openings for a schoolboy. Why don't you run along back to Dumbledore.' He began to turn away, but then glanced back sharply. 'But if you're looking for some pocket money, maybe we can reach an arrangement.'

Astonished, Severus stepped forward. 'Really?'

'Let's have a closer look at that cloak clasp.' The shopkeeper reached out with long fingers.

Severus' hand flew to his throat. He was only wearing the cloak because he didn't have anywhere to leave it. He felt the cold metal beneath his fingers. He thought of Lucius, the inscription on the back. He knew he should do the sensible thing and sell it, but something about the shopkeeper repulsed him. 'No, thank you. It's not for sale.'

For a second a very ugly expression contorted the salesman's face, but then he turned away with a shrug. 'Suit yourself. Now either buy something or get lost.'

Severus left the shop, still fingering his cloak clasp. He felt unsettled by the encounter, and had lost his nerve for trying anywhere else. Instead he headed back to Diagon Alley, turning over what to do next in his mind. The wizard world may be his chosen one, but it didn't seem very keen to have the down-on-his-luck Severus as part of it. He decided his best bet would be to return to the streets of Muggle London, and risk using magic to obtain food and drink.

He was halfway down the street when someone grabbed him by the arm. He cried out in alarm, thoughts of Death Eaters running through his mind as his other arm was also snatched back. The few shoppers scattered in panic, running into shops for shelter. A big hand thrust itself under his chin, trying to pull the clasp off his cloak. As Lucius had promised, the pin was charmed to never fail, and so Severus' head was jerked forwards painfully.

'What's this then?' demanded one of his captors. 'Been taking what's not ours, have we?'

'It's mine!' choked Severus, almost throttled by his own cloak, struggling to pull his arms free.

'We'll see about that,' said the same rough voice, and he was pulled around and pushed forwards. As he was marched back down Diagon Alley towards Knockturn Alley his mind was running at a hundred miles an hour. His initial fears of a Death Eater attack seemed unlikely to be correct. Instead he suspected the shopkeeper being behind this. He wondered for the first time just how expensive Lucius' parting gift had been. Its monetary value had never crossed his mind before.

Sure enough, he was frog marched back to the shop, the burly men pushing aside the human detritus of the winding lane. The peddlers shrank away from them, melting back into the shadows. The shopkeeper was waiting just inside the door. 'Is this the boy, Mr Borgin?' asked one of the men, whose faces Severus still hadn't seen.

'Oh yes, that's him, nasty little thief. Came in pretending to want a job, then grabbed this brooch and ran off when I told him there weren't any going.' Borgin stood right in front of Severus, apparently unaffected by the look of pure hatred that Severus was giving him. He reached out and gently unfastened the clasp.

'It's mine,' whispered Severus, his voice choked with tears. Suddenly he felt the fight go out of him as the sheer unfairness of life overwhelmed him. 'I never stole it. I was given it.'

'Given it, a likely story,' said Borgin, pocketing the cloak clasp. 'Thanks for your prompt assistance, gentlemen.'

'No problem, Mr Borgin,' said one of the voices. He tightened his grip on the scruff of Severus' neck. 'Come along, Little Lightfingers.'

Back outside he struggled ineffectually. He thought they might drag him back to Diagon, but instead their grip tightened, and a moment later he had the horrible sucking, compressing sensation of apparition. Dizzy and nauseated, he found himself in a huge hallway, full of witches and wizards. 'Where are we?' he asked, disorientated.

'Ministry of Magic,' came the response.

Had the circumstances been different, he would have loved to see inside the Ministry. As it was, he caught only a vague impression as he was hustled through. The witches and wizards in the atrium turned to stare at him, and he lowered his eyes in humiliation. 'Where are you taking me?' he asked, as they passed a vast golden fountain.

'Holding cells,' replied one shortly, hustling him into a lift. He was whisked down - or maybe it was up - at a terrific speed.

'Holding me until what?' he asked, dreading the answer.

'Till someone decides what to do with you.' He was pushed out of the lift and along a corridor, then through a door. A wizard was seated at a desk just inside, writing something. He was dressed in dark robes with a peaked pointed hat. A large number of keys hung from his belt and jingled slightly as he moved.

'What've you got?' asked the guard, without looking up.

'Petty thief. Tried to nick some trinket off've Borgin down on Knockturn Alley.'

Now the guard did look up. 'Suicidal are we?' he asked Severus. 'What's your name, kid?'

'Septimus,' he replied sullenly. He had no desire for word to get back to Hogwarts. 'Septimus Evans.' He didn't know why he gave Lily's surname, it was just the word that popped into his head. Perhaps because she was the person he most wanted to see at that moment.

The guard didn't query this, and ran through some other basic questions, recording the answers with his quill. Severus answered with a mix of truth and lies, giving his address as nowhere. The guard then relieved him of his wand, and he was led down another corridor to a small cell. It was bare and bleak and none too clean. 'How long will I be here?' he asked the guard.

'Wouldn't like to say sonny,' replied the guard, patting him down for weapons. 'With all that's afoot at the moment, petty thieves are pretty low down the pecking order. There we are, then.'

The door swung shut behind him with a clang of metal on metal. He heard the guard muttering an incantation to activate the locks, and further metallic clicking as the mechanical parts slipped into place. The guard's footsteps retreated, and his ears were filled with an empty, echoing silence. He lay down on the narrow bed, and stared at the ceiling. He felt empty, despairing. He'd lost everything. Home, family, Lucius, Lily, Hogwarts, his wand, his freedom. There was nothing left for him to do but shut his eyes and try to close down his thoughts whilst he awaited his fate.

*****

The door swung open and Severus instinctively backed into the corner. He didn't know how long he'd been in the cell for, and whether it was now day or night. He thought at least two days had passed. They'd brought him food and drink, which he'd eaten despite no longer being hungry. The cell was hot and the stench from the toilet unbearable. Every time the door opened, a cold fist of fear clenched over his heart. Was this the moment he'd be taken for his trial? He had no faith at all that the conclusion of any court proceeding would be even remotely fair or just.

'Severus, hurry up,' said a voice. The use of his real name immediately jangled in his head. The voice was familiar. Perhaps more clipped than usual, impatient, but if he didn't know better he'd have sworn...

Light from the corridor fell across the face of the man in the door, and Severus' jaw literally dropped. 'Lucius!'

'Get a move on,' snapped Malfoy, for it really was him, looking hardly any different from when Severus had last seen him, more than two years ago.

He almost fell over his robes in his haste to get out. Malfoy didn't wait, but stalked away. Severus had to jog to keep up, and he was painfully reminded of his younger self, running round after Lucius. He passed the guard, who was determinedly staring at the Prophet as though it was the most riveting thing he'd ever seen. Severus wondered if Malfoy had Confunded him.

Lucius called the lift and stood tapping his foot. He neither spoke to nor looked at Severus, and gave every impression of being really angry. As his initial overwhelming relief died down, Severus began to feel apprehensive, and embarrassed. He knew he was filthy and stank. The lift arrived, and Malfoy motioned him in with a jerky movement, as though afraid that Severus might run. In the confined space of the lift Severus was all the more aware of the smell.

They emerged into the big foyer and Severus gaped around, taking it in better than he had on his first, hurried way through. There was the fountain, adorned with statues of wizards and magical creatures. Further along, fireplaces lined the hall. The ceiling was enchanted, like the one in the Great Hall... Suddenly Lucius was right next to him, tugging his arm. 'Come on,' he hissed furiously. 'This isn't a sightseeing tour!'

They reached the apparition point, and Lucius thrust his arm through Severus'. 'Hold on,' he said tersely. A second later Severus again had the horrible sensation of being squeezed into the size of a full stop, before emerging with a pop. Blinking and stumbling, he realised they were back on Diagon Alley. Lucius, used to apparition, was already striding away down the street.

'Where are we going?' asked Severus tentatively, as he caught up. For a horrible moment he thought they might be going back to Borgin and Burke's, but Lucius turned off sharply left instead and led the way down another couple of streets, lined with old fashioned timbered houses with steep tiled roofs and leaded windows like beady eyes.

'My place,' replied Lucius shortly, confusing Severus further. Malfoy Manor was nowhere near London. He followed the older man in silence. Lucius eventually stopped outside a large brick building, and raised his wand to the door. He spoke a word, and after a moment the door whirred and opened. Severus followed him through, into a lift. Again, Malfoy tapped his wand to the control panel, and they were whisked upwards so fast the Severus' stomach felt left behind.

They stepped out of the lift into a corridor with a thick red carpet, and an imposing wooden door in front of them. Once again, Malfoy tapped it with his wand, and led Severus inside. They were in a wide hallway with several doors leading off it. It was luxuriously decorated with thick carpets and plum coloured walls, but there was a dustiness and neglect that the obvious expensiveness couldn't quite conceal. Lucius opened one of the doors and gestured inside. 'Bathroom. Get yourself cleaned up. I'll put clean robes outside the door. I'm going out to get food. Don't leave.' He was gone before Severus could answer.

Severus couldn't resist having a quick examination of the flat whilst Lucius wasn't there. It was a spacious apartment, with two large bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and the bathroom. Both bedrooms had beds in, although one appeared to be getting used as a store room. Everywhere was very untidy, with clothes and books strewn around on any available surface. Piles of old newspapers littered the living room, and the kitchen was full of empty packaging from various Diagon Alley food shops.

His initial curiosity sated, he followed Lucius' instructions and had a long shower, even washing his hair. By the time he'd finished, he could hear Lucius outside, and suddenly felt nervous. He wasn't sure he wanted to emerge and face the older man.

Eventually, dressed in Lucius' robes and with still-damp hair, he joined Malfoy in the kitchen. Two more takeaway containers lay on the table, holding steaming slices of pumpkin pie. Lucius tapped the kettle with his wand and indicated the food. Severus was starving, but felt reluctant to eat straight away. He sat down at the table, and finally, awkwardly said, 'Thanks, Lucius.'

The words acted like a trigger. 'You stupid, stupid... petty theft! What were you thinking, Severus? D'you have any idea how close you came to be tried? You could have been expelled from Hogwarts, got a criminal record... What the hell were you playing at?'

'I never stole anything!' began Severus indignantly. 'He wanted my cloak clasp - the one you gave me. I wouldn't sell it, so he pretended I'd stolen it.'

Lucius stared, then shook his head. 'Maximus Borgin is not a man that you cross lightly, Severus! You have no idea... no idea! What on earth were you doing in his shop in the first place? '

'I went there looking for a job. I didn't know who he was. I was desperate...'

'I gathered that much! It was incredibly lucky I found you in time, and was able to call in a few favours to get you out.'

'Thank you,' said Severus again, although despite his gratitude he couldn't help starting to feel irritated with Lucius' tirade. The situation hadn't really been his fault at all. If it were anyone else he'd have told them to stuff their help by now. But he bit his tongue.

'What on earth has been going on, Severus?' asked Lucius, a little more softly. 'The Ministry records say you're living rough.'

Sighing, Severus told the truth, from how he'd finally exacted revenge on his father, to his mother's refusal to leave, right up to his wrongful arrest. Part way through the kettle boiled. Lucius looked at it blankly, and without even thinking about it Severus got to his feet and made the tea. He finished his story as he handed over a steaming mug.

The older man shook his head. 'Why didn't you come to me? You know I'd have helped you.'

Severus hesitated. It hadn't even occurred to him to go to Lucius. He assumed that the older boy wasn't much interested him anymore, especially now he'd outlived his usefulness in the import-export business. 'I just thought I'd handle it myself,' he said lamely.

'You don't need to handle things yourself, that's why you have powerful friends, Severus.' Lucius sighed again. 'Typical Severus, Slytherin to the core. Damned independent and stubborn.'

Shyly, Severus asked, 'How did you find me?'

By way of reply, Lucius tossed something onto the table. It was the cloak clasp. 'I reckon Borgin thought it was something else. He must have realised pretty quickly it's not the sort of thing he had much interest in, but of course he saw the engraving. When I went in he lost no time in crowing over how my friend had been caught thieving from him. I think he wanted to sell it back to me.' He made a contemptuous noise. 'Once I got it back from him, I set out to find you.

I guessed they'd have taken you to the Ministry, so I made a few enquiries. When you have my contacts, these things are not difficult.' He paused, and began to poke at the pumpkin pie with his fork. 'I don't understand why you wouldn't sell, you were obviously destitute.'

'I didn't want to part with it,' said Severus, feeling his face redden. 'It were all I 'ad...' He noted his slip back into local vernacular, and forced himself to concentrate. 'I didn't want to sell it, you gave it me.'

'How can someone so intelligent be so blasted stupid?' asked Lucius, shaking his head. 'It should have reminded you that you've got a friend who will always look out for you. I told you before, you're like family to me. And I don't let my family languish in jail, no matter how dense they've been.' He pushed the other carton of pie towards Severus. 'For goodness sake, eat.'

They ate in silence. When they were finished, Lucius indicated the flat. 'So, you like my little place?' he asked, without waiting for an answer. 'My pied-a-terre in London. Convenient for Diagon Alley, and for those times I don't want my father too involved in what I'm doing. Cissy and her family live just down the next street. I don't use it a great deal, and there isn't any elf. You've no idea how hard it is get hold of elves these days! The spare room is full of junk, you'll need to move it off the bed. The place could do with looking after, it will be useful to have someone to keep an eye on it - during holidays at least.'

'I can stay?' asked Severus, taken aback.

'Of course you can. I'm hardly going to turn out on the street, am I? I didn't go to all that effort getting you out, just so you could go back to sleeping in doorways or whatever it was you were doing.' He shrugged. 'It's a mutually convenient arrangement. We have each other's backs, right?'

Severus nodded. 'Thanks Lucius, I don't know what to say...'

'You don't say anything. It's mutually convenient. We made a deal, Severus, and that deal still stands as far as I'm concerned.' He patted him on the back. 'Stick with me Severus, we're going great places.'

And for the first time in what felt like eternity, Severus smiled.