I Can't Steal You Like You Stole Me

[Deleted]

Draco had visited Narcissa the night prior – more accurately, he had managed to sneak into her home, and had tried to sneak out, only to be caught in the act. Naturally this set off a dozen more red-flags than the ones that had already been flying steadily and proudly. Cissa had known for quite some time that things were wrong with her son, and she had been pushing it aside in an effort to remain as put together as she could be with so much on her mind. As proud as Narcissa was of her son for taking up his place next to the Dark Lord, she knew what Voldemort was planning, and losing Draco would kill her. The grief would claim her entirely, and if she survived at all it would be only as a shell. That had been where Severus and the Vow had come in, but that was far from what the witch wanted to discuss with her (well kept) secret love and old friend. Severus was Draco’s Godfather, and as such he had always been an incredibly active part of the child’s life. Furthermore, she knew very well how Severus acted around his Slytherins when no one else was watching. He knew them all as well as they knew themselves, and sometimes better still. That was why she had come to Hogwarts, like any sensible, concerned parent would have done. Narcissa had been to Hogwarts more often than she would have liked in the past several months, several times to all but picket the placement of Remus Lupin back on staff. She’d had words with a great number of parents, all of whom felt the same about his instatement as a professional at the school. A place that housed children was hardly a place for a werewolf. She was starting to consider renting out a damned room with the amount that she found herself storming through the ancient stone walls that had been her home away from home so many years ago. The unsettled witch had marched boldly through the open doors of the castle immediately upon arrival and, without stopping for anything had hurried down to the dungeons and to the office she knew well. It had, at one time or another, belonged to Professor Horace Slughorn, who she had coveted as a teacher back in her days as a school girl. Nowadays the quarters belonged to her old friend, and Narcissa could do little more than hope he was in. She came to a grinding halt outside the door, hesitating only for a moment before she knocked furiously on the door, knuckles rapping quickly against the wooden panes. “Severus,” She called out as she ceased her banging momentarily. “Severus, it’s Narcissa. I need to speak with you, please open up.”

Severus | 466

[SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE]

Matters at Hogwarts had resumed their usual routines once more, though Severus was busier than ever before. He had redoubled his efforts with his little gathering of Gryffindors, had been doing all in his power for Draco – who was beyond determined to keep him and his parents as far off as possible – and then, of course, there was the matter of vengeance to take into account. Neither Severus nor Lucas were willing to allow Eric’s death to slide into obscurity. The night of his death they had fought viciously, but the day after had brought further darkness to light by way of Miss Granger, and Severus had seen the shift in Lucas’ gaze. He knew his friend well enough to know true violence when it boiled beneath the surface and he did not dare allow Lucas to act alone. So since then, he and his old friend had formed a schedule that alternated between honing their fighting techniques and plotting their schemes. Recently, however, their plotting had been disturbed by something else. Something that was even now working its way through the school by way of Severus’ own Slytherins. Their focus had fallen to that to a far greater degree, but tonight Severus had allowed nothing to interrupt him. He had passed through the Prefects that he was not to be disturbed tonight, which meant that any Slytherin with a late-night issue would have to wait until tomorrow. Performing Dark Rites at Hogwarts beneath Albus Dumbledore’s very nose was a tricky business at its best, but Severus was not a fool. He knew precisely how the Headmaster got the vast majority of his reports, and any portraits in or around Severus’ private quarters – including his office – were of serpents, underwater views or empty fields. Portraits that could be passed through, but held nothing that would linger long enough to notice anything unusual and draw the Headmaster’s eyes to it. The potion at hand had been brewed in three separate parts, in three separate locations, to ensure that it would not be noted or questioned. Albus knew that he frequently had to brew for the Dark Lord and so was used to Severus’ comings and goings with classically Dark potions, though this one in particular would have caught the Headmaster’s attention if only because it was a very specific brew. Having blended everything earlier, Severus now needed only three pieces to complete it. The first was the blood of the victim, already blended in. The second and third was blood of the castor, tainted by Baneberry. Severus kept a small store of Baneberry Potion in his office for when a drop of it was necessary in seventh year N.E.W.T. potions, and as Severus had no wish to be observed by Albus whilst under its effects, he had chosen to do the final part in his office, which lacked an open Floo through which Albus could surprise him. It was becoming ridiculously easy to poison himself deliberately, Severus could not help but reflect as he tilted back the contents of one of the Baneberry vials into his mouth and swallowed. The effect of pure Baneberry was slow at first, but within less than an hour, he would be rendered paralyzed and incapable of the motions necessary to save himself. Naturally, Severus had no intention of taking longer than a few minutes to complete his task. With a precise motion, Severus slit his palm open with the blade he had left on his desk for the task. As the blood welled up, he poured it into the flask and observed as his potion took on precisely the correct shade of blue before becoming clear as crystal. Placing it carefully into his breast pocket for safekeeping, Severus was just sealing his hand when a knock came at his door and caused him to glower at it – right up until a voice rang through that belonged to no student or colleague. Narcissa did not pay him social visits like this. It would reflect badly upon them both – he, a halfblood Professor, and she a noble wife to a now-known Death Eater. With his past affiliations, it simply was not wise. Taking into account the fact it was also very late, Severus could only presume that something disastrous had occurred, and the thought of Lucius or – Merlin forbid – Draco in some form of crisis was enough to cause him to abandon all thoughts of his antidote as he rushed to the door to invite her inside. The moment the door was open, Severus’ dark gaze raked over Narcissa’s form in a sharp and critical way that was one part panic, one part concern, and two parts a determination to ensure that she, at least, was unharmed. Only once he felt absolutely certain that she was well did he step aside and usher her in quickly, not a word spoken until the door was shut, thus reinforcing his silencing wards. ”What’s happened?” There were no pleasantries, only desperation and alarm laced into his generally tightly controlled voice. There was an almost unhinged look about him, the sort of look that hinted at a violence lurking just below the surface, ready to attack at the nearest provocation. Severus was, and always would be, obsessively protective of Narcissa and her son. Lucius, Severus believed could manage himself well enough to never truly need him, but in the event the Malfoy patriarch did call for him, Severus would, of course, be there.

Narcissa | 912

[Deleted]

Narcissa had known, as she marched into the old castle where she’d spent her younger years, that it was too late for her to have any right to be there, and yet she had come anyway. She stood, impatiently waiting, outside of Snape’s door for one a second or two after her frantic knocking had ceased and her voice had fallen silent. His look was one he gave her each and every time they saw each other, only this time it was laced with a bit more worry than usual. If she had startled him, that had not been her intention, but it happened and it was over. That would be all. He wasn’t one to let such things linger, anyway. His voice was as alarmed as the look he had afforded her had been and she immediately felt a twist in her stomach, a regret for making him uncomfortable or uneasy. She was, however, able to brush this aside with the internal affirmation that her unease was truly important, and that this meeting was incredibly pertinent. Narcissa took a deep breath and her let hands relax for the first time since she had stormed through the castle doors. Her fists loosened and lay flat at her sides, fingertips toying with the fabric of her robes carefully. “It’s about Draco,” She started, her own voice faced with an urgency she had not intentionally permitted to slip into her tone. “He visited last night. He said that you had sent him by floo, that Lucius was requesting him.” Though the words were not formed as a question, it was clear that she was cross-checking the facts by the strong and discerning, clearly disconcerted gaze she gave him. If Draco had lied to her, she deserved to know, though she truly didn’t think her son so foolish. “There’s something wrong with him,” She insisted, voice taking on yet another note of displeasure and insistence that she didn’t very much care for. “I don’t know what it is. How can I? He never writes, we never hear from him. For Merlin’s sake, Severus, he’s been so damn distant since all of this started, and I can’t help but worry that he’s… He cannot fail, Severus. You made that promise to me, and I need you to see it through.” Of course, Narcissa knew he had no other choice but to see it through. The knowledge did not change the weight of her words. Moving towards his desk, the witch laid her hand against it and let her weight lean to one side, the firm structure of a noble member of the Malfoy clan melting immediately with the simple change of her posture. Narcissa nearly felt like weeping, the way her heart insisted on hammering away in her chest was painful and the string of thoughts that continued to pass through her mind were a curse in themselves, darker than any magic she’d have thought to master. Narcissa felt queasy almost constantly – or she had since Draco’s departure from their family home. She didn’t like worrying. Worry aged a woman, both mentally and physically, and to worry over a child did more damage than even that. She had never thought that she might see herself in this position. “Lucius didn’t tell me he called for Draco,” She explained. “He never tells me. We used to talk, I used to know everything but… but that’s neither here nor there.” No. No, Narcissa decided firmly she would not crack. She would not crumble and become someone that Severus had never known. She would regain her composure and she would stand tall, address her worries and face her fears. It was what she had to do. Thinking it and doing it were two very different things. Pulling herself together now that Narcissa was someplace private with a man who would not judge her was a considerably difficult thing to do. She slumped into the chair that she assumed the Potions Master often used when his students were in need of assistance and laid a hand against her head. “I don’t mean to be so dramatic, Severus, but a mother knows her child. A mother can sense when he is breaking, or when he is in need of something… but I cannot do anything, as he is here. In your charge.” Her gaze finally trailed back to him, her light eyes meeting with his dark pair. “I need you to find out what’s going on. Any way you can. Talk to the portraits, follow him if you must. I know this is more than I had asked, but I need to know what is being done or what is not. Do not act unless you must, but I need you to find a way to relieve some of this pressure, in any way you can.” She breathed out, voice finally taking on a steadier tone. “Can I trust you in this?”

Severus | 823

[SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE]

Narcissa’s urgent response did nothing to alleviate Severus’ concerns and in fact, that she was here about Draco at this time of night only increased his alarm. His antidote forgotten in the wake of his need to ensure that his godson was alright, Severus did not interrupt Narcissa’s narrative in case there was something he was unaware of coming, and he tensed when she stated there was something wrong with Draco, only to relax minutely at the dawning realization of what, precisely, this was. Narcissa’s worries were genuine and though to Severus they did not warrant quite this level of emergency, he could tell from the way she leaned against his desk that this was taking a toll on her. He was about to request that she award him a moment, when she pronounced something that once again caused the antidote to flicker from his mind. That Lucius had brought up the marital concerns these two were having had been unprecedented enough, but Narcissa as well? Oh she covered it up quickly, but that it had leaked at all told Severus far too much about the state of the Malfoy marriage, and to say he was alarmed was placing matters most mildly. ”I understand,” Severus stated slowly, carefully dismissing Narcissa’s apology for her dramatics with two words that between them held more weight than they would have with any other student parent. For though as Head of House it was his role to understand and alleviate parental concerns, only Narcissa would fully realize that Severus understood just how much a mother could sense in their child. Severus had once been very open about his mother with Narcissa, though after Eileen passed on a very great wall had risen and Severus spoke more and more rarely of her, until any hint of his mother in conversation became something almost sacred. ”I swore to you I would protect him Narcissa. I did not take the Vow lightly,” His words, though in some manner obvious, told her what couldn’t have been said before. He did not take the Vow to prove himself to Bellatrix – he had taken the Vow precisely for the reason it was meant. To soothe Narcissa and to protect his godson. Taking a step toward her, Severus nearly crumbled to the floor as his knee gave way, though he managed to catch himself quickly on one of his shelving units. His eyes desperately shot toward his desk where the antidote lay, before quickly returning to Narcissa as he continued on as though nothing had occurred. ”I have already implemented much of what you have suggested, but I can certainly increase my efforts. Draco is very insistent on doing this by his own merits – he seems quite concerned about having any of us too deeply involved in his plan.” It was very rarely that Severus included himself in the Malfoy family unit, always being meticulously careful to remain on the periphery of the circle as though even being named godfather to Draco was not enough to convince him of his value to a family as prestigious as theirs. Or perhaps, more politically, to keep his less reputable presence from tainting Draco’s name in any way, shape, or form. His protectiveness of Draco had certainly outweighed his cares for his own wellbeing on enough occasions that such an interpretation might not be entirely wrong. As such, to include himself in that statement, when the Malfoy family was struggling so much with its connections to one another, said a great deal. He stood by each and every one of them regardless of what the Dark Lord had to say and despite how dangerous it was to do so. It was also, ultimately, a misdirection to distract Narcissa from his little slip. However, the fact remained he still needed to get to his desk and the potion had already begun to take effect. His knee was still inoperable, and his fingers were beginning to grow numb. Reluctant as he was to push Narcissa away, he had no wish for her to realize what he had done – and he knew her talents in potions well enough to know she would hazard a guess if he wasn’t quick. So Severus prepared a line and delivered it – or attempted to. His jaw locked on him, which made his back stiffen further. He had underestimated his timeframe – a rarity, but considering he hadn’t anticipated being interrupted – Whatever calculations he might have been about to make were shot the second his leg gave out. His arm didn’t have the strength to keep him upright, and he hit the cold stone floor with a crack that he felt jar straight through to his spine. He closed his eyes quickly to hide from any expression Narcissa might be shooting him and angled his eyes toward his desk before he reopened them, giving a sharp nod in its direction and holding complete faith in Narcissa’s ability to understand, all too well, how badly he’d misjudged just now.

Narcissa | 835