Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Another Life ❯ London Bridge is Falling Down ( Chapter 11 )
Non Anime: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst | Type: Divergence | Uploaded On: 06.06.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 4.1K | Visits: 474 | Status: Completed
Warnings: Yaoi/Slash, Angst, DARK themes, Backstabbing, Incest, Yuri/Fem-slash, and other various nastiness. Hard R rating.
Disclaimer: Ain't mine.
London Bridge is Falling Down
Harry not moved since he awoke on the bed. He was unrestrained but felt no need to get up. No matter what, he was now a prisoner with those he should have been able to trust to understand him. Moody hadn’t come back after dropping him off and Harry was somewhat relieved by that. Still, he was unresponsive to the kindness of Molly Weasley or her tearful eyes. Ginny’s assertive voice telling him to stop being so weak and lazy did nothing. Even the jokes of Fred and George couldn’t draw anything from him. Harry laid on his side, facing the wall, and simply waited.
He knew it wouldn’t be long. He trusted Snape to find him and take him home again. It was weak, but it was the only hope he had.
The door opened, signaling the entrance of another visitor. Harry didn’t move as the footsteps came closer. Curious. There seemed to be too many…
“Harry?”
His eyes opened, but he didn’t turn at the familiar voice. She hadn’t come before. The bed shifted as someone sat down and a hesitant hand touched his shoulder.
“Mrs. Weasley said you were up here so I came to see you, and…” She trailed off because she didn’t have a clue what to say to the despondent boy. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted her to say.
“We would have come earlier,” muttered a second voice that was just as achingly familiar, “but Mum wanted to try getting to you first…Honestly, you’d think she’d remember who the best friends are.”
Slowly, Harry turned over and looked at them both, more voluntary movement than he’d displayed in hours. Hermione looked tired but still smiled at him as she gently pet his shoulder. Ron leaned against the bedpost, arms folded and a lazy look on his face.
“Hungry?” he offered. “Mum said you hadn’t eaten anything.”
Harry only stared at him before slowly shifting his gaze to Hermione. The girl moved her hand to pet his hair, brushing a few messy locks from his face.
“We’re worried about you, Harry,” she said quietly. “What happened? Why won’t you talk to us? Dumbledore said your throat was healed already and Remus-”
Abruptly, the black haired boy sat up. His eyes bore into her as a quiet, whispered name escaped him. “Remus?”
She looked surprised a moment, then sad. “He hasn’t been found yet.”
Harry looked away.
“Look, mate,” Ron tried, frowning worriedly. “He’s a smart guy. I’m sure he’ll get out of whatever pickle he’s gotten himself into.”
There was no answer for a long while before Harry finally gave a little nod. The awkwardness didn’t dissipate and Hermione found herself wondering if she would ever have her friend back to normal. She studied him, his small frame filled out some since the last she’d seen him, presumably because of better eating, his hair longer and even more messy, his face, so slack and lost and empty… She turned to Ron almost helplessly. The redhead stared back for a bit before grabbing the tray of fresh food from the table and moving to sit down on the bed with the other two, dropping the tray between them.
“Well, I’m famished, so I’m going to eat.”
He ignored Hermione’s playful punch to his arm as he stuffed a piece of garlic bread into his mouth. Hermione only huffed a little and portioned out some of the lasagna. They bantered as usual, one saying something the other felt offence from and mercilessly went after the first. It was almost like old times again. Neither missed that Harry tentatively ate as well, but they didn’t mention it.
“You know, we were really worried about you, mate,” said Ron before stuffing another bite of lasagna into his mouth. Harry glanced up at him and waited for him to finish chewing. “Having to stay with Snape and all…”
Hermione saw Harry’s hands tense up on his fork. She tried to give Ron a warning look, but the redhead wasn’t looking at her.
“It must have been horrible! That slimy git’s not worth the air, if you ask me-”
“Ron,” she cautioned, but he didn’t hear her.
“And to think Dumbledore left you with him! You should have come to us first, I say. I bet that prat’s been ignoring you, hasn’t he? Or just insulting you all the time, since he hates yo-”
“SHUT UP!”
CRASH! The tray and all its contents was sent to the floor. Ron blinked in surprise at the angry, almost wild look on Harry’s face, shocked silent by the sound of his yelling voice. A moment later, Harry’s eyes snapped just as wide and he slapped his hands over his mouth, jerking back to the corner of the bed, his back fitting against the two walls. His gaze was terrified and his face had paled more shades than was healthy.
“Harry?” Ron tried, but Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him off the bed.
“Go!” she hissed, shoving him towards the door. Ron stumbled and looked at her dumbfounded. Another glance at Harry, who hadn’t lost the terrified look and was beginning to hyperventilate, and he quickly left, shutting the door a little too hard behind him. There, he rested his back against the wood, staring down at his feet and wondering what he had done. He was surprised to find how easily he could hear Hermione through the door.
“It’s all right, Harry,” she said gently as she knelt on the bed beside the scared boy. She reached out and nearly cried at the way he flinched, his hands holding tighter to his face. Her fingers lightly touches his hair, brushing the locks from his face. “It’s okay, no one is going to hurt you, it’s okay to talk…”
He shook his head slowly, but didn’t jerk away from her touch. Hermione slowly moved closer to him, keeping every motion clear and slow, as if she were trying to comfort a cornered animal. Gently and oh so slowly, she coaxed Harry into her arms and held him, stroking his hair and back and rocking him. His shoulders shook as if he were trying not to break down, breath hitching with each quick intact of breath. She continued to speak softly and tenderly, trying to calm him with her presence. The shaking subsided after a long while, as did his breathing slow, and he was still in her arms, laying half in her lap and half on the bed, curled around her. Her fingers smoothed through his soft hair and down his cheeks as his arms came to wrap around her.
“You like Snape a lot, don’t you?” she asked quietly. He slowly nodded against her hip. “He was kind to you?”
Another nod and his arms tightened around her waist.
“That’s good. You deserve a little kindness, even if it’s from someone I don’t like.” She continued to stroke his hair and his hands loosened. “As long as he’s good to you, I can forgive his temperament.”
She heard a little sound that might have been a laugh and it warmed her. Still, she had to know, no matter if it hurt him to ask.
“Why did Dumbledore want to take you from him?”
As she expected, his body went tense. She could see the muscles of his jaw tightening under the skin.
“It’s all right,” she soothed quickly. “You don’t have to say anything.”
He relaxed a fraction at this, but not all the way. His fingers curled around the hem of her shirt. She was quiet, waiting, for she knew he had something to say. The words were too quiet for her to make out the first time, but he repeated when she asked.
“He doesn’t hate me,” Harry whispered and his voice was tinged with enough desperation that Hermione hoped it was true. Harry didn’t deserve any more disappointment.
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” she soothed, but they both knew it was empty coming from her. She hadn’t been there to see Snape’s kindness and gentleness. She was only relying on his opinion.
“He doesn’t,” the boy in her arms muttered again, curling closer to her. His face pressed against her stomach, legs shifting to follow the curve of her thigh, as if to become as connected to her as he possibly could. Hermione closed her eyes and bowed her head as she tried so desperately not to cry.
“He doesn’t,” she repeated to him, and this time, she was sure. She didn’t care if no one else agreed. Hermione trusted Harry, of all people, to know the difference between love and hate, not tricked by an enemy turned kind. Hermione stayed with him until he fell into a restless sleep and only then did she finally cry.
Ron sat next to the door all night, his cheeks wet but mind resolute to protect and help his best friend the only way he knew how.
“Well, Severus, I’m glad you’ve brought this to my attention.”
The words, as well as the lack of pain upon his person, was more disconcerting than the strange set of eyes staring back at him. Oh, they were still red, but they actually looked human now. Snape didn’t understand what exactly had happened to restore the Dark Lord’s eyes, and he didn’t think to ask about it. He didn’t want to contemplate the other changes to his face. The small, slits that had passed for a nose had filled out to resemble an actual one and there was a less harsh set to his hairless brows. Little else was different, but those alone made the Dark Lord look less intimidating.
“We will get the boy. First, we must plan.?”
“Yes, my Lord…”
“Where do you believe we should search first?”
Narcissa stood back and watched them, listening to their careful planning. She was looking at the lord more, for the scene between them earlier that day kept running through her mind.
“Malfoy!”
The sound of her name from the Dark Lord, said in such an amazed, almost panicked fashion, blindsided her as she entered his rooms. She found him in front of the tall mirror, hands pressed to the glass. Over his shoulder, she could see his eyes widely taking in the changes to his face.
“My Lord?” she asked quietly. He turned and stared at her. The snake like eyes were gone, replaced with normal, human ones of the same crimson color. His entire face looked more human.
“I woke,” he said in an awed tone. “I woke and I was this way.”
She came closer to study him, and couldn’t help but wonder if the physical changes were caused at all by the radical changes in his attitude.
“It is decided then.”
The Dark Lord’s definitive words brought her back to present. She went to his side as he waved her over and explained what they had decided on. Narcissa nodded at the logic of it, giving her consent. They fine tuned several points before she was released to return to her home.
“Severus,” said the Dark Lord as Snape turned to leave after Narcissa. He paused and looked back at Lord Voldemort, waiting. The red eyed man looked oddly hesitant a moment, then resolute. “Sit down. We must talk.”
An icy feeling formed in Snape’s belly, but he didn’t dare show it. He sat down on the soft couch across from the other wizard, wondering if he would escape his wrath. Snape had lied to him, after all, and admitted it. The Dark Lord had never been fond of his followers lying. After he sat, Lord Voldemort mimicked him and went quiet, his face hard as if he were trying to decide the best way to handle the conversation he was about to begin.
“How is he?” he said finally. Snape blinked, but that was the only show of surprise.
“Unwell, my Lord.”
“Explain.” The tone was sharp and Snape knew he would have to be thorough.
“He is partially mute, my Lord. Volunterily. His throat had been crushed by his muggle caretaker and has since been healed, but he does not speak above a whisper, if at all.”
Voldemort nodded him to continue with the slightest bit of an emotion in his gaze that Snape scarcely thought possible for the man. Grief.
“His body is healthy now, healed from prolonged beatings.” This, Voldemort already knew, but he didn’t interrupt his follower. “He is underweight, but that was lessening in the time he’s been living with me. His body is weak, prone to fatigue.”
“Emotionally?”
“His strength is gone. He has lost his will to fight. I think the only reason he is still alive is that he doesn’t dare shame his parents’ memory by killing himself.”
Snape was surprised when Voldemort closed his eyes as if pained and raised a hand to rub his forehead. His other hand waved for him to continue and after a short pause, Snape did.
“Nightmares, every other night. Sometimes more frequently.”
“Of me?”
“Of the muggle, and the deaths of his friends. My death.”
Voldemort looked at him then, his crimson eyes narrowed but not angry, merely scrutinizing. Snape’s perfect, blank expression never wavered.
“He cares for you,” Voldemort murmured. Snape gave a snort.
“No. He is desperate for my approval. I haven’t left him yet, nor betrayed him.”
“He cares,” retorted the Dark Lord in a tone that meant the battle was over and Snape would never win it. The Potions Master wisely continued his analysis.
“He is fragile. Unstable. Any number of things can set him into despair at the drop of a wand. It seems that isolating him until he is ready to face his demons is the only way to assure his sanity remains.”
Voldemort nodded and gave a little sigh. All at once, a certain old aura came to him, etching out every line of his pale face, the tired look of his eyes… Snape dropped his gaze.
“He will not accept me,” said Voldemort in a quiet, near whisper.
“Not quickly.”
“Not at all.”
“We shall see,” responded Snape and he was almost more surprised by his own daring than by the lack of painful response from the man sitting across from him.
Remus had been quiet since his telling of Harry’s condition to Sirius. The two were inseparable, and Sirius was often found curled up at the foot of Remus’ bed in the mornings. The other members of the household ignored this, either out of a sense of propriety or simple disinterest.
Draco wandered distractedly. He sometimes paused in a hallway and stared into space for many minutes before continuing on his walks. His mother had questioned him, but the boy gave no answer. She had gotten worried enough to ask Sirius to look after him while she was out, and she happened to be out quite a bit with running the various Malfoy enterprises in her husband’s absence. He was surprised, but agreed to try to find out what was ailing the boy.
“I was too…distracted to realize,” he told Remus after she’d gone off again. “He really has been acting different.”
“I…” Remus sighed a bit and shook his head. “His scent has been different since…that time.”
Sirius looked confused a moment before it dawned on him. “Do you think he heard?”
“Yes, but how much?”
“Hard to say…” Sirius frowned and set his head on his hand. “Must be weird, him suddenly seeing Harry in such a different way.”
“No stranger than seeing Severus that way,” Remus said before realizing it. The silence of Sirius brought that quickly to light. The werewolf glanced over at his friend and found the man staring at him.
“Snape? What does he have to do with anything?”
Remus bit his bottom lip. “I should have mentioned it before…When Harry was taken from the Dursleys-”
"That slimy son of a bitch took him?” Sirius snarled, jumping from his chair.
“Calm down, Padfoot!” Remus cried as he rose as well. “Severus was nothing but kind to him!”
“Why wasn’t he with the Weasleys? Or you, even!”
“Because Harry chose to stay with Severus!”
Sirius went quiet, staring at him dumbfounded.
“He what?”
“And they meshed, Padfoot,” Remus went on, as if the other man hadn’t said anything. “I was amazed to see it and I barely believed it, but they needed each other. Harry was terrified to be away from Severus and Severus worried about nothing other than Harry. For Merlin’s sake, Padfoot, he read the boy nursery rhymes!”
Sirius sat down, hard. His brows were tightly bunched between his eyes, a faraway look on his face as he tried to work through this new information, tried to understand and decide what to do.
“He said at the meeting that Dumbledore hid Harry…”
“He was protecting him. Severus would never let Harry fall into the Dark Lord’s hands.”
“Why did it have to be Snape…?”
“It just was, Padfoot. Actually, it’s ironically proper.”
“Proper? How is any of this proper?”
“Who is the only person in Harry’s life that has never treated him any differently, no matter what happened, nor betrayed him or left him by choice or otherwise?”
Sirius went quiet and he thought. Remus sat back down and waited, knowing that the other man would have something to say eventually. It might take days, but he would decide what to do. Remus would simply wait for that time.
He was sure he was losing his mind. He sat in the corner, shadows playing over the entire room like beasts waiting to pounce as he stared out from above his folded arms, knees drawn to his chest. Pain, dull and throbbing, was constant in his stomach, and he always hurt from the backlash of too many curses he didn’t remember taking or casting. His once black hair was streaked with silver and fell untended and ignored. It had been a full three weeks since he left the house willingly, yet he’d woken up so many dozens of times and had to return. No article of clothing was left without a spattering of blood or some other substance he didn’t dare try to identify.
He was losing it and briefly wondered why he even bothered anymore.
Strange items found their way into his home but he could never rid himself of them. They all went into the closet, which he now opened only to stash away the things that made him feel dirty just touching them. Books, so dark that he shook looking at them, potions he didn’t even want to know the purpose of, trinkets, baubles, so many little things, and they all made him feel so vile and twisted.
He often saw shadows pass by the windows. Humans, sometimes nothing nearly so. They terrified him, because he knew somewhere inside that they were just as horrible as the things he hid in the overflowing closet.
The door creaked open. Sometimes, a wizard or witch would visit. They never stayed long, as his stare made them uncomfortable. All of them but Lucius Malfoy, and he had begun to depend on the high born wizard’s presence. Thankfully, the one who entered then was just that man. Lucius’s eyes swept around before falling onto the wizard in the corner. Instantly, he came near and knelt before him.
“Tom,” he said, reaching out to touch his hand. His gloves were smooth and soft, black leather of the finest quality. He felt humbled in the presence of the younger man.
“I woke up in blood again,” he whispered. Lucius nodded his understanding. Slowly, Lucius coaxed him out of the corner and made him cleanse himself and dress in fresh robes, the cleanest pair. He murmured that he would replace the wardrobe within the week, and that comforted the older man. Lucius then made him eat as he reported on the goings on in the outside world. He never went out, never listened to the radio, never touched the paper, so Lucius was his only link. The rich wizard had taken over keeping the house paid for and proper, because its owner simply couldn’t function anymore. He had asked why once, but the enigmatic answer was no answer at all and he got the feeling that it was simply something not to worry about.
When he had been tended to, Lucius informed him that he couldn’t stay, as he had things he had to do. He walked him to the door, and there Lucius paused and looked at him.
“It’s time to sleep,” the younger wizard said.
He remembered nothing after that, until he came to himself, once again covered in blood and surrounded by maimed bodies. This time, he didn’t bother feeling horrified anymore.
Acknowledgements:
Slayerq - I've always been a big fan of nursury rhymes and this story just fit them, somehow. I'm glad you like my Voldie/Tom ^^ Hopefully, this chapter made you as happy as the rest. As for D/H, well...I know they'll be friends eventually, but I'm not sure if they'll have a romance.
TammyLynnSlark - Yes, Dumbles is an ass.
dairygirl - Well, the chap answers one question. As to Draco, well, he doesn't know what to do yet. He hasn't decided and probably won't until he sees Harry again.
yuiop - Did.
DarkMarkLV - I'll tell you now that there will be NO LV/HP! Much as I like that ship, the incest warning is for a background couple.
RhionLestrange - Heee, glad to have intrigued you!
DestinyEntwinements - You made me laugh, then blush. I hope you're happy with yourself.
Kari Morgana Black - They will become friends eventually, but I don't know if there will be any romance between them. So far, the three romances I've planned on don't involve Harry.
HoshiHikari - Starlight...nice name, babe. Glad you've enjoyed the story.
animegurl088 - ::laughs:: Here you go, kiddo.
Conditions Met:
1. Voldemort must be Harry's father
2. Severus eventually is loyal to Voldemort (unfinished)
3. Sirius comes back