Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Another Life ❯ Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary ( Chapter 8 )

Warnings: Yaoi/Slash, Angst, DARK themes, Backstabbing, Incest, Yuri/Fem-slash, and other various nastiness. Hard R rating.
Disclaimer: Ain't mine.

The move of Harry to Snape’s small home was done in secrecy. It wasn’t the normal kind of secrecy that the Order partook of, as that they all knew, but one where only the three men directly involved were at all privy. Or should have been, had Remus Lupin not butted into it. Thus he was added to the circle and sworn into secrecy. He was to assist Snape in Harry Potter’s care and repair the boy’s mental wellbeing before school began.

Remus wasn’t sure at all how that was suppose to happen. He seemed like an intruder to the ballet surrounding Snape and Harry’s interactions. The days they had spent together gave them the understanding needed to keep out of each other’s ways, but still maintain the security of being close. Remus often interrupted this without meaning to and the odd looks both gave him were rather disconcerting. He quickly learned and after a few days, was able to stay out of their ways as well as they did for each other. The soft acceptance and understanding between them was something he wasn’t sure he would ever emulate.

Snape lead Harry to his bedroom, with Remus trailing a fair distance behind. He was sure both knew he was there, but he wanted to see once again, with his own eyes, as Severus Snape changed from a hard assed teacher to a kindly companion. He felt a sick sort of interest in the kindness Snape gave to no other, the caring he showed for a young boy who desperately needed it but didn’t dare ask. James Potter may have given Harry life, but Severus Snape was giving him a father.

Remus held back at the door, listening as Snape gave his good night, the soft rustling of cloth pulled up around the younger’s body, the slight whisper of Harry’s voice in the night. It was such a terribly intimate thing that he felt ashamed of himself to eavesdropping, and yet so very needed to know that such tenderness was possible, if only to give his hopes a little more value.

He soon left them to finish the nightly words, as the two tended to talk for a while before going to sleep, and went into the living room, dropping himself into one of the comfortable couches. It bothered him that he listened in, but both knew he did it and hadn’t said anything. Maybe it was a need to see Harry happy for a few moments of the day, or maybe it was a need to witness the closeness of family between two who had hated each other, or maybe it was simply a longing for such closeness. Since the death of his parents, the only time he felt that was for the brief years Sirius had been out of prison and alive. Now, he didn’t even have that.

Remus jumped in surprise as Snape laid a hand on his shoulder. The werewolf looked up at him, feeling like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Now, finally, Snape would tell him to cease his voyeuristic ways. Now he would forbid him from witnessing another side. Now he would throw him out of the house. Now…

“Harry is worried about you.” Remus blinked. He hadn’t expected that at all. Snape’s steady, blank look didn’t change as he continued. “He says you look more tired every day.”

“Oh.”

He looked down at his lap and his hands as they rested on his thighs.

“Are you having nightmares?”

His head jerked back up and he noted vaguely Snape had moved to his side. He was rather surprised at the sudden inquiry, but figured it had more to do with Harry.

“Yes.”

“Would you like some Dreamless Sleep potions?”

Remus’s golden eyes snapped onto him again, wider at the offer.

“No…No, that won’t be necessary.”

Snape’s lips pursed tightly. “As you will. Do not let your lack of sleep impair your handlings with the boy, or I will take care of it. Understood?”

“Yes,” murmured Remus as he continued to stare. Snape glared back for a few more moments before whipping around and stalking off. The poor werewolf could only guess at what, exactly, had actually gone on between them.

“I want to see him.”

Narcissa lifted her gaze. “You know that isn’t possible yet.”

“I know.” He sat on the window seat, one knee drawn to his chest as he stared out the window. His black hair was short cropped and made him look so very different than the criminal he had been and the boy she remembered. Sirius still retained that playboy beauty, but it was tempered now, more noble than boyish. The light stubble across his jaw made him seem rugged and mysterious, along with those haunted blue eyes. The particulars of his appearance weren’t tempered by his clothing, tailored to fit by Narcissa’s favored seamstress. Though, these clothes meant very little when the man could still not leave her mansion prison.

“I know but I want…I need to….”

“You need to know he’s all right.”

He glanced at her, pinning her with that sorrowful gaze and she felt her heart clinch just a little.

“Exactly.”

“That’s natural for family.”

“Family?”

She might have laughed at his expression, were the subject not something she had intimate experience with.

“Yes, cousin. You are, most certainly, a member of Harry Potter’s family.” She managed a small smile, but his face didn’t change. They stared at one another, silence permeating.

“No,” he replied quietly. “I was just his friend.”

“I see.” She didn’t let him drop it. “I suppose that’s why you’re sitting there, waiting for the day you’ll see him again. Why you’ve barely slept since I pulled you from the mirror, worrying over the child. Why you’ve spoken of little else than him. Why-”

“Are you finished yet?”

She gave him a narrow look and stood. “You don’t have to be a blood relative to be family, Sirius Black. You just have to love them.”

He said nothing. Shaking her head softly, Narcissa left him to continue staring out the window.

“Where is he?!”

“Ron, pacing across the floor isn’t going to change anything.”

“Well it makes me feel just the slightest bit better!”

“Well it doesn’t do a thing for me!”

“Oh, shut up, Hermione!”

“RONALD WEASLEY! YOU SAY THAT TO ME AGAIN AND I WILL CURSE YOU SO BAD, YOU’LL BEG ME TO KILL YOU!”

Silence.

“…I’m sorry ‘Mione… You know I don’t mean it….”

“Yes, Ron.”

“You can hit me if you want.”

“No thank you, Ron.”

“…What about calling me stupid? That helps, right?”

Silence.

“’Mione?”

Silence.

 220;Aw, ‘Mione, please don’t be mad…”

Silence.

“I said I was sorry!”

“I know that, Ron.”

“…You’re gonna be mad for a while, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ron.”

Well. That was it, then. The fifth test came out the exact same as the others.

Snape stared at the pale blue liquid in the test tubes, noting the lack of variations in the color and consistency. Perfect positives.

He had rebrewed the potion every time, making sure that he hadn’t messed up one step, though he had faith in his abilities. There was no question that the potion had been perfect. Thus, the results must be true.

Gathering the pieces of the concoction had been difficult. After all, most of it was rather expensive. The easiest component to retrieve, which surprised him greatly, as a sample of the Dark Lord’s blood. He had given it freely once Snape explained what he meant to do. A complete trust that was so very alien to Lord Voldemort, but it had been there. He had no inclination that Snape had been playing the traitor for years. Snape almost felt bad about it. Almost.

The next easiest had been the sample from Harry Potter. The boy had been noticeably unnerved by the thought of someone taking his blood, and from what he’d heard about the end of the Last Task, Snape didn’t blame him. Still, the boy had been easily persuaded. Remus, who had witnessed it, commented later on that it probably had something to do with Harry’s need for Snape’s approval. The darker man was somewhat disturbed at that prospect.

The tests proved positive. Perfect positives. One question answered and a million others just waiting behind. Snape sat down and stared at the vials.

“Severus?” He glanced up and saw Remus at the door, cautiously peeking through.

“Come in,” he murmured. The werewolf did so and came to the front of his work bench. He glanced over the vials curiously.

“What were these?”

“Paternity test.”

“You finished already? What’s the result?”

“Positive.”

Remus looked at the vials with a more uneasy expression. “You did test with a sample from James, didn’t you?”

Snape wondered if he should tell Remus. The lycanthrope was notorious for worrying and he upset Harry enough with it. Anything added to the weight might bring about a change for the worse in his charge. He didn’t even dare to wonder how it would affect him to see Remus upset.

“That is none of your concern.”

Snape got up and banished the potions before going about in his cleaning routine. He kept his personal lab meticulously clean, as any slight disturbance in his potions could be disaster. Remus, however, didn’t let him get far. A moment later, Snape found himself slammed up against one of the stone walls with an angry werewolf pressed against him.

“What do you mean it isn’t my concern?! Harry is my concern!”

Snape glared back steadily into the amber gaze, not allowing himself to react to the harsh scent that stirred up unwanted memories of terror and pain.

“Harry will benefit most from you being completely intact, Lupin,” he snarled. “That means keeping disturbing information away from you, incase you inadvertently hurt the boy.”

“Disturbing information?! Damn it, Snape! Who is Harry’s father?!”

Lip curling and black eyes narrow, Snape growled out the most hated word in the wizarding world.

“Voldemort.”

There was a dead man on the floor. Unseeing eyes stared up at him accusingly from a paling face. Blood was everywhere. It covered the man, the floor, the walls… Another man, slashed to pieces. A woman, laying against one of the walls as if she were just sitting, and not dead.

He looked at his hands. Crimson dripped from them. He was covered in blood. Blood. Their blood. Why was he covered in blood?

He couldn’t breath. What was going on? Why was he in a room with these people…these dead people…and covered in blood…their blood covered him…

The world began to sway. He stumbled back through an open doorway and onto the hallway floor. Another corpse stared from right beside him. He couldn’t help the scream that ripped from him. He knew every curse that had been used on these people. With a shocking clarity, he recognized the subtle signs of different curses, mapping out the poor people’s deaths in his mind.

He didn’t remember how he got out of the house or how long he walked along the streets. He shed his robes at some point and simply walked, staring at those bloody hands.

“Thomas?”

Slowly, he lifted his head and stared. She stared right back, her eyes wide with horror.

“Lillian,” he whispered faintly. He didn’t even recognize that wisp of sound but it broke her and she rushed to him. She spoke in a panic that was too quick for his shocked mind to comprehend and rushed him inside. She cleaned his hands and his face, stripped him of the sodden clothing and dressed him anew. He let her without any resistance. The faces of the dead stared from behind him.

“Thomas, what happened?” she murmured as she rubbed a soft white towel against his cheeks. He realized belatedly that he was crying and had been for some time.

“Dead,” he whispered to her. “They’re all dead.”

“Who are dead, Thomas? Who are?”

“I don’t know.” His voice broke into a pathetic whine as he felt the horror bubble into more tears that threatened to become even worse. She pulled him against her, stroking his hair as he continued to speak. “I don’t know who they were. I was just there. I don’t know how I got there but I was covered in their blood, Lillian, I was covered and the blood was everywhere and they were dead, Lillian, they were ripped apart…”

She soothed him with her touches and soft words, desperately staving off her own fear. When he had quieted, she took him to bed and held him through the night as nightmares ravaged his mind. And when the morning came, she almost cried as the front page of the Prophet was splashed with a grisly massacre and the Mark in the sky.

Conditions Met:
1. Voldemort must be Harry's father
3. Sirius comes back