Happy Traditions, everyone! Title: Unlikely Bedfellows, Part 3 Author:cmwinters Gift For: all fest participants! [original recipient] wanted hurt/comfort, D/s with spanking and femmedom, threesome, Eastern Europan Summer Solstice/Festival of St. John the Baptist, Saturnalia/Yule, Lammas/First Fruits, anything Jewish and/or anything Christian. Er, I tried. Pairing(s): Lucius/Hermione/Severus, Lucius/Severus Summary: Hermione finds herself in a strange alliance with the Malfoy family when it's discovered that Snape is alive and in desperate need of immediate medical attention Rating: NC-17 Warnings: BDSM, hurt/comfort, slightly dominant female, threesome, some homosexual themes although I wouldn't strictly call it "slash" Author's notes: I hope the beginning isn't too entirely boring. I tried to set it up for something plausible. The muse went on the warpath here. *stabs her with a rusty titanium spork*
Part 1 Part 2 Hermione grabbed her beaded bag and frowned at it. After a year gallivanting all about England in various weather, the it was quite battered and unflattering. After a moment's hesitation (it's not as if she'd use it at another wedding, she finally reasoned), she waved her wand and transfigured it into something a little more practical-looking, and much less abused.
After a well-earned rest, she'd gone shopping for some essentials. A brand new toothbrush, a new tube of her favourite toothpaste, and her trusted brand of shampoo and conditioner were in the bag, along with a new set of pyjamas, nearly indecently short pants and a camisole top. If she had to expose skin to Snape to get him well, she would, but lying naked next to him without his permission seemed like something he'd hex her for later. If she were lucky.
With a soft crack, she arrived in the Malfoy sitting room, and with eyes averted she made her way quickly to the stairs and down the hall. She tapped lightly on the closed guest room door, and when Narcissa's voice called out, she entered.
"Good morning," Narcissa said, smiling at her as she rose from the bed. "Have you eaten?"
Hermione smiled back and nodded. "I'm all set. I even brought a book!"
"Oh, speaking of which, you may feel free to read anything in our library. I apologise for not mentioning it earlier — it slipped my mind."
Hermione nodded. "That's understandable. Um . . . " she hedged, with a pensive glance at the unconscious man on the bed. "Has, um, has anything changed?"
Narcissa shook her head. "No; I don't expect it will for a week at least."
"Okay," Hermione said, twisting her hair into a knot and poking her wand through it to hold it. "I have a few questions, if you don't mind?"
"Not at all."
"Um, how often are we feeding him and giving him water?"
"Every eight hours. The elf will come with it. You know how to administer the food, I assume?"
Hermione nodded. "I wonder if we should give him vitamins?" she mumbled.
"Vitum . . . what?"
"Oh; they're little Muggle pills with . . . well . . . stuff your body needs. We could grind them up fine in a pestle and mix it in with his food. He's so thin, and he doesn't look healthy at all! Apart from the blood loss and the snake bite, I mean."
"Would it conflict with his potions?"
"I don't know; I'll look into it. One day without them — the vitamins, I mean — is not going to kill him. So you give the potions with the food? Before or after?"
"This one before," Narcissa pointed at the blue vial on the dresser. "These two, after."
"And, erm, how are you handling bathroom issues?"
"Oh. You can get up long enough to use the bathroom, unless you're not feeling well, in which case, you should probably tell us in advance and not come at all. You can be gone about fifteen minutes, but don't shower or anything because the water will make your skin cold."
"No, no, I mean, for him!"
"Oh. Sorry," Narcissa laughed and lifted the blankets. The only part of Snape's painfully thin body which was covered was his groin. "He's dressed in — well, don't tell him this, because I'm sure he'll strangle us all with his bare hands — an adult-sized nappy. Wizard ones can be charmed to automatically change as necessary. It's much cleaner that way, and while he's unconscious, something of a necessity."
"That's an excellent idea. I can't imagine he'd be terribly delighted about us doing it for him," Hermione opined, cringing. "I — just one other thing?"
Narcissa looked expectantly at Hermione.
"Is it going to be a problem when my menstrual cycle starts? Will I have to take the week off or anything?"
"That's a good question, but no. In fact, it's likely to help him, as you have a little more power during that time. It's really too bad we can't coordinate our schedules to be opposite each other, but there isn't time."
Hermione nodded and slipped into bed, and pulled out her book.
Narcissa paused before leaving. "Hermione, I know that you've known Severus for many years, and I am quite certain you're well aware that he's an intensely private man. Please, I crave your pardon for this one thing: do not tell him about Lucius' indecorous behaviour in revealing information about Severus' private life. I realise he needs to be told, but I would prefer to do the telling."
Hermione couldn't very well imagine a discussion with Snape about his past sexual exploits between him and Lucius, and him and Narcissa (or was it him and Lucius and Narcissa? asked a nasty little voice in the back of her mind, which she swiftly strangled), and she agreed immediately. "Oh, of course. I think if I were him I would prefer such a disclosure come from one of the involved parties, anyway."
"Thank you," Narcissa replied, smiling warmly. "Draco has taken Lucius to Diagon Alley to get a new wand, and I'll be paying a visit to my mother. If you need anything, call the elf. He's been instructed to heed all your requests. But please, don't try to free him, we do need him right now! And if Severus awakes, summon the elf; he'll come get us immediately. But I don't expect him to wake."
"All right," Hermione replied. "Um, one thing?" she said, catching Narcissa right before she disappeared through the door. "I sent an owl to Harry and Ron; I wanted to let them know I'm all right and researching the best way to recover my parent's memories and that I might be gone for some time. I don't expect them to reply, but they may. I didn't tell them I was here, though," she stressed.
"That's fine," Narcissa reassured her. "You can tell them you're here."
Hermione considered refusing, knowing the boys would not react well to her being at Malfoy Manor (and who could blame them, really?), but something told her to hold her tongue. Instead, she nodded and settled in for a long afternoon and evening of reading.
* * *
At about eleven-thirty, the house elf arrived to wake her. "Master will be coming shortly, Miss," he said, setting coffee, tea, and a tray of pastries on the end table. Hermione had fallen asleep with the book on her chest, and rose slowly, rubbing her eyes. After a quick stop in the loo, where she brushed her teeth and brushed her hair back, she padded back out to the bedroom and climbed back into bed, conscious of the time she'd been gone.
She'd nearly fallen back asleep when she heard a soft knock on the door. "Come in," she murmured, shaking herself awake.
She felt rather foolish lying in bed next to Snape when Lucius walked in, impeccably dressed, as always. "I apologise for disturbing you," he said softly, as if Snape were merely sleeping and he didn't want to disturb him, either.
She smiled past a yawn and shook her head. "No, it's fine; the schedule will just take some getting used to."
He nodded in understanding. "I'll wait just outside, then, while you get dressed," he offered. He turned to leave, and had made it all the way to the door before he stopped short, and called her name. "Miss Granger?" he asked hesitantly, clearing waiting for her permission to turn back around.
"Yes?"
He turned, face downcast, and looked up slowly, presumably to give her time to stop him or take cover in the event she was in a compromising state of dress. When his eyes rose to her face, he gave her an intense, contemplative look.
"In . . . ah . . . in the event Severus does not recover," he said slowly, "and — assuming you would like your parents to return to England — please do let me know if you need my assistance. Severus is significantly better at the Mind Magics than I am," he confessed, "but I am not unversed in them myself, and should he prove unwilling or unable, I will be happy to help you in any way that I can."
He inclined his head in a brief and nearly imperceptible nod and turned and left the room, leaving Hermione staring at the closed door for long moments before she slipped out of bed.
* * *
Several weeks passed with no discernible change to Snape's condition other than he gained back a little bit of weight and his colour slightly improved. But morning and night he lay in bed, stiff as a statue except for his rhythmic breathing. Draco walked in to relieve her one stormy spring evening, looking deeply despondent.
"No change?" he asked dully. It had become a routine for all of them, but never had any of them been so devoid of hope.
"No change," Hermione affirmed. "Draco . . . what's wrong?," she asked softly, growing alarmed.
Draco just shook his head, methodically removing his socks and shoes. As he stood up to remove his shirt, he looked at her. "Another week, and he will have passed the threshold of what mediwizardry considers to be a reasonable chance for recovery."
Hermione gasped. "Is there nothing that can be done?"
Draco leveled a sharp glance at her, and dropped his hands, which were currently unfastening his belt, to his side, and cleared his throat. "I don't suppose you're a virgin?" he asked.
At her shocked look, he held up his hand. "No offence meant. It's just . . . there are some healing potions that can be made from the blood of a virgin."
Her face fell, and his with it. "Oh, I'm sorry . . . but no."
"It's all right," Draco said in a resigned tone. "I doubt you'd have liked what would have had to be done to get the blood, anyway."
She looked at him in alarm, but he wasn't looking in her direction.
"Listen," he said. "My parents aren't going to be here later. Can you come back in like twelve hours? Just long enough for me to get out of bed a bit, shower, and stretch my legs."
"Of course, but where have they gone?" she asked, completely confused at this sudden an unannounced change in their routine.
"It's solstice tomorrow. They're going to try something down at circle."
Hermione stared at him, not quite understanding him. "Circle?"
"Yeah. There's a circle of stones on the far south of the property," Draco explained as he donned a dressing gown and managed to fasten it and drop his trousers without the least bit of self-consciousness. "They're trying an old magic ritual; I don't know all the specifics, but they have to be down there for two days."
Hermione gawked at him, stared out the window, and turned back, watching Draco as he climbed into bed. "It's pouring rain!" she exclaimed in sheer disbelief.
"Yeah, I know. I imagine that'll make censing the circle a bit difficult, and Merlin only knows how they're going to light the bonfire; it's supposed to be lit with sunlight and they're not allowed to use weather magic. But there's a flower that's supposed to bloom only on solstice at midnight, and it has incredible healing properties. It's also about fifty degrees outside and they've got to take a purifying bath in the spring before they can start anything, and the ritual calls for them to be skyclad throughout, so I've placed an order for Pepper-Up."
She processed that for a few moments. "Er, what does any of that do with me being a virgin?" Hermione finally asked, not at all certain she would like the answer.
"Oh . . . well," he hedged, but looked her in the eye when he answered. "Apparently, provided the girl loses her virginity in the circle exactly at midnight, where her blood falls on the ground beneath her, the flower is guaranteed to bloom. It's supposed to be even more potent that way. And of course any of the blood saved has its own healing properties. But . . ." he paused, "it would bind you to my father."
Hermione looked horrified. "I'm sure your mother wouldn't approve!"
"At this point, Granger, I think she'd be perfectly happy to share," Draco replied in a defeated tone. He closed his eyes, effectively dismissing her.
* * *
The mood around the Manor was noticeably subdued for the next several days, and Hermione kept having dreams that consisted of Lucius and Narcissa conspiring to discontinue Snape's treatment. So bothered was she by this that she'd taken to being draped over Snape in a protective gesture while she slept.
In the middle of the night almost a week hence, Hermione was having one of those horrid dreams again, and this time it was punctuated by Snape's tortured groans as he slowly starved to death. Hermione was prevented from assisting him by a cruelly placed Body-Bind, and she watched with silent despair for weeks as his body turned on itself, his face and rib bones becoming more visible, his clavicles sticking out at an alarming angle, and the sheet resting on him until it was apparent he was little more than parchment-thin skin over bones. He writhed and groaned in unconscious agony before he finally breathed his last, tortured breath. Hot tears leaked out of her eyes, and she chanted "no, no, no!" inside her head.
It took some time before she realised she was conscious, and the low, anguished groan from next to her nearly stopped her heart. Was her dream true? Was he being slowly starved? Was he dying? She froze in a panic, but it was the impotent flopping of his arm that spurred her to instinctive action.
He was trying to remove his feeding tube.
She started crying in earnest then, and against her better judgement and her own wishes, held his arm down to restrain him. "No, no, Professor, please!" she whispered to him. "Lie still, you have to leave it in!"
Her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears as he seemed to be unconsciously struggling against the weight of her on his body.
"DODDY!" she shrieked in near-hysteria, and the panicked elf appeared before her eyes, his tea towel held over him, apparently caught in the act of changing.
Hermione took not the slightest notice.
"Miss called?" the elf said, wide-eyed at the struggle.
"Go get the Malfoys, PLEASE!" she sobbed, frantically trying to come up with a plan, but her sleep-fogged mind, still fresh from her nightmare refused to cooperate.
A few seconds later a harried Narcissa, clad quite scantily only in her nightwear, appeared in the room. Immediately on her heels was Lucius, hastily belting a dressing gown closed.
"Shit, what happened?" he said, still trying to focus his own eyes. "Oh hell," he muttered, and produced his new wand, casting a silent spell that bound Snape's arms with rope to the bed.
Hermione was sobbing disconsolately by this point, overwhelmed by the lack of transition time from sleep to wakefulness, her nightmare, and the inherent drama of the situation. Narcissa looked at Lucius with grave concern and knelt down. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
Hermione's sole answer was a loud wail of despair into Snape's chest. Draco Apparated in at that moment, eyes wide.
"Go get her a Calming Draught, Draco," Lucius commanded, eyeing his wife and their guest with growing concern. "I don't know what's happened here, but if something's gone wrong we need to know."
Draco Disapparated and reappeared a few minutes later with the potion. "Why's Snape tied down?" he demanded, once he'd had the opportunity to observe.
"It looked like he was trying to remove the envy tube," Lucius explained.
They all froze at the next sound, which was a sharply hissed "sssssssssssssssshhhhh!"
Snape's face was pinched in a pained scowl and he groaned.
Hermione, still shuddering, looked at him with wide eyes. "Would you like some ice-chips, Professor?" she asked timidly.
"Mmm," he grunted.
Suddenly, a glass of ice chips appeared on the night stand. The house-elf, cowering in the corner, watched as Hermione gingerly fed him one ice chip, and then another.
The pained look on Snape's face became more pronounced, and after a pained swallow he rasped "Whr . . . ?"
"You're at my home, Severus," Lucius answered in a calm voice of authority, "Narcissa and Draco are here. And Hermione Granger."
"Unnnnh," Snape grunted, and he opened his mouth. Hermione, still shaking, obligingly slipped him another ice chip. When it melted, Snape spoke again with a croaking voice.
"T'Dar' Lur'?"
They all looked at each other pensively, but it was Narcissa who answered.
"The Dark Lord is defeated, Severus; Harry Potter was victorious. The Dark Lord suspected you in the end, and set his snake on you. You sustained a terrible bite, and we thought you were dead. You've been here for two months, and this is the first time you've moved under your own power."
Severus groaned again, his voice becoming increasingly pained.
Hermione began sobbing anew, partially out of relief, and partially because she was still reacting to the remnants of her nightmare.
"Narcissa," Lucius commanded for all the world like a conquering general. "Get her out of here. She's hysterical and not helping."
Narcissa pulled Hermione off the bed, which was difficult as she was clinging to Snape for dear life. Snape's brow furrowed as the bed jostled around, but Narcissa managed to peel Hermione away.
This accomplished, Lucius focused on the other man. "Severus," Lucius implored, his voice full of concern, "if there is anything we need to know that can help you, now would be a very good time to tell us."
"Offs . . . D'mmldr . . . " he murmured, and slipped back into unconsciousness.
A loud crack! announced Draco's departure.
* * *
A few days later, and Hermione was allowed back in to see Snape. The Malfoys had expressed concern for her sudden breakdown, and strongly encouraged her to spend some time outside the Manor. But after three days, with her fears not fully settled and despite the Malfoys' assurances of his improving health, she was anxious to check on Snape's progress for herself.
She practically skipped into the guest room, delighted to see Snape awake and conversing quietly with Narcissa.
"Good afternoon, Professor!" she exulted, her grin so big it was making her cheeks sore.
The scowl he turned on her was so forbidding that Hermione wondered if her perfume was offending him.
Until she remembered she wasn't wearing any perfume.
"Exactly what do you think you're doing here?" he demanded through clenched teeth.
"I . . . um . . . " she faltered with a fearful glance toward Narcissa. What have they told him?
Narcissa had blanched, her expression completely aghast. "Severus!" she admonished.
At that moment, Draco came through the door. Although it had been customary to knock during Snape's convalescence, he'd known she was there and that it was "shift change", and obviously didn't see the need. "Mother, Aunt Andromeda has arrived," he announced.
Snape ignored mother and son. "You stupid little girl!" Snape snarled at her. "So desperate for male attention and approval that you'd force your unwanted attentions on someone unable to resist?"
Hermione blanched and felt faint. She turned to leave the room, but Draco was blocking the door and staring at Snape with a mortified expression on his face. He glanced at his mother then looked back at Snape, shaking his head slightly.
"Is there a problem?" Lucius asked, his voice radiating cold fury. Hermione whirled around; Lucius hadn't been in the room when she'd arrived, and she hadn't seen or heard him come in.
He was glowering at Snape and seemed at least twice his normal size. Hermione realised this was Lucius in 'full Death Eater mode' and gasped slightly.
Snape sneered sullenly back at his friend.
"Draco, stay here a few moments while your mother goes to meet her sister," Lucius ordered, eyes still on Snape and unblinking.
"I, uh, I'll go with you!" Hermione announced, jumping at the chance to leave the room she clearly wasn't wanted in anyway.
"No, Miss Granger, you will go to your room. I wish to have a word with you, in private," Lucius directed in a tone that brooked no opposition.
"Er, okay . . ." she said in a very small voice, not daring to upset this man who looked like he was about to whip out his wand at any moment and kill the next person who so much as blinked in an unpleasing manner. She slipped past Draco and veritably sprinted down the hall. Anywhere on earth was better than that room.
"I asked you, Severus, if you have a problem," Lucius ground out softly, although there was nothing casual about his tone. "With. My. GUEST!"
They stared at each other for several moments more, but it was Snape who looked away first.
Lucius swooped out of the room with a billow of robes to rival Snape's, and Draco shot a disgusted glower at his erstwhile professor from across the room.
* * *
Lucius stalked down the hall in barely-controlled outrage. Anyone who knew of the mere existence of Severus Snape was well aware the man was misanthropic at best, but rudeness to guests he'd invited into his own home was something Lucius simply could not tolerate. If Severus weren't still at death's door, Lucius would have catapulted him onto the cobbled Muggle lane on the back side of the properly and left him there.
Narcissa had looked as if she were in imminent danger of fainting from shock, and Draco had been so horrified Lucius nearly cautioned him against the spell that was so clearly about to fly from his son's wand. He finally decided against so warning him because at that moment, he really didn't care if it were cast. Better the emesis hex on Draco's tongue than the more serious ones that had been on his own.
He slowed to a more respectable pace as he approached the room at the end of the hall. Before knocking, he stood still and took a few deep cleansing breaths to try to ground himself. The last thing that he needed to do was storm in in a righteous fury and frighten the already upset girl.
He tapped lightly on the door, and heard a snuffle followed by a muffled, "Come in."
He clenched his jaw angrily at the sound of the girl's distress and took another deep breath before pushing the door open slowly. "Tea, Doddy," he said, sweeping into the room. He swirled around to face Hermione, who was standing stiffly in front of the bed, her posture announcing she was on the defencive. She also rotated her body in such a way that it was immediately obvious to Lucius she was trying to conceal something from his line of sight.
He appeared to utterly ignore this and walked to the far side of the room to sit in one of the chairs. A casual flick of his wand and a table appeared, and a moment later the ordered tea set, complete with sandwiches.
"Please, Miss Granger, sit down. How would you like your tea?" he asked graciously. "It's an Earl Grey."
"Um . . ." Hermione said, waiting for him to look away so she could cast a Disillusionment charm behind her. "Er, lemon please. No sugar."
Lucius nodded approvingly and prepared the tea with a delicate flair, smiling genially at her all the while. She realised he wasn't going to look away and sighed to herself, walking toward him resignedly. She knew she had to take the chair and the tea lest she appear rude. With all the good manners Lucius was deliberately displaying, she would horribly embarrass herself if she did that.
His eyes barely flickered to the haphazardly stuffed bag lying on the bed. "Are you . . . going somewhere?" he asked.
She wrapped her hands around the cup and looked at the table while she chose her words carefully.
"Is is apparent that my usefulness here is outlived," she finally decided, looking up at him with a squared jaw.
"I haven't a clue what gives you that idea," Lucius said, pausing to take a short sip of his tea. "Severus still cannot be left unattended as his body is still not fully capable of regulating its own temperature. Narcissa's sister has just arrived with the first of the grandchildren, and Draco and I have a very important engagement with the Greengrasses this evening." He leaned back in his chair and fluidly lifted his foot to rest upon his knee. "Of course, we shall make arrangements if you truly feel you must go. You certainly aren't a prisoner here and we won't hold you here against your will, but we'd rather grown accustomed to our schedule and had made plans around it."
She shifted in her chair. "I . . . just. . . . " She shook her head sadly. "It's apparent he doesn't want me here. I think he would heal better and faster if he weren't so consumed with anger at one of his caregivers."
Lucius snickered softly but not cruelly. "I sincerely doubt he's 'consumed with anger' at you or at your presence in his bed."
Hermione started and snapped her head to look at him. There was definitely something being hinted at by his tone, but she couldn't quite identify it.
"What do you mean?" she asked warily. searching his pale grey eyes which were sparkling with amusement . . . and something else she couldn't readily identify.
He smirked at her and quirked his eyebrows. "The gentleman doth protest too much, methinks."
He grinned at her furrowed brow and shook his head slightly in amusement. "I know you don't know Severus as well as I do, Hermione," and here he laughed, "but I suspect his vitriol was more directed at his situation. He's not, ah, had much opportunity to languish in a lavish bed with an attractive, scantily clad young woman devoting all her attentions to him. Not being able to — ahem — take advantage of such a situation is certain to be quite frustrating."
She gawked at him for a moment before rolling her eyes. "I hardly think I'm his type," she scoffed, scowling back at her teacup.
Lucius considered her. "Why would you think that?"
"I'm Muggle-born," she pointed out airily.
Lucius looked at her for long moments before he spoke again. "Do you know why Severus joined the Death Eaters, Miss Granger?" he finally asked.
She looked into her cup with such intensity, Lucius wondered that she was consulting the leaves for the answer. "I don't know," she confessed eventually, having not considered it overly much before that moment. "To get back at his father?"
There was a very long pause. "Ah, yes, well, you would think that," Lucius said softly, although his tone wasn't condescending. "Do you know why Eileen Prince married Tobias Snape?" he asked after another pause.
Hermione looked at him. "Um, no, having not ever met either of them, but from what little I've heard, it doesn't seem that they were very well-matched."
Lucius snorted appreciatively. "Indeed. Eileen Prince had something of an enemy of one of her co-workers. Eileen's parents had arranged for her to be married to someone this other woman was interested in, and in fear that Eileen would be married off to her love interest, she slipped Eileen a potion with a mind to make her fall for the first Muggle she saw. She had good reason to believe that Eileen's family would be horrified by her 'taking up with a Muggle,' and she was right. By the time she ran out of the potion, Eileen was pregnant out of wedlock and had told her lover about her condition in a fit of potion-induced euphoria, and taken Tobias to meet her family. However, she hadn't broken the Statute of Secrecy, so Tobias was completely unaware that his wife and her family were magical.
"They disowned her, of course; how could they not? One of the reasons many of the pure-bloods have been against Muggles and Muggle-borns is that Muggle culture has almost always led wizarding culture in ways that we don't always agree with; yet in 1959 even Muggle girls didn't get pregnant out of wedlock. The Princes were an educated and proud family, and Tobias had barely six years of Muggle schooling to his name. With little more than the clothes on his back and the remains of a meagre weekly paycheck in his wallet, he was certainly not the refined, educated, well-to-do match her family had in mind for her.
"But Tobias was over the moon about her pregnancy; Eileen was his intellectual better by several orders of magnitude and he knew it. He'd never hoped to marry an intelligent woman, and she was not without talent herself, particularly with magic on her side, so she must have seemed as a goddess to him. Yet Tobias was not stupid. He knew that with an intelligent mother, his children were bound to be intelligent, and every man wants his children to have better circumstances and opportunities. Eileen had nowhere else to go, so she stayed with him. Surely she reasoned that staying with a man who near worshipped her was better than the derision and ostracism she'd have received elsewhere."
He paused and took a sip of his tea, gazing at her over the rim of his cup. "I'm given to understand that wizard children and Muggle children develop slightly differently, and Tobias was expecting certain behaviour out of his son, which he did not see at what he considered appropriate times. This caused some strain, but it was when Severus first displayed magical ability that everything changed. Eileen was forced to admit the entire sordid story, and Tobias didn't particularly appreciate being misled — not that I can blame him, truth be told.
"At best, Severus was neglected and ill-cared for. Each of his parents blamed the other — and their son — for their own mistakes, and it eventually destroyed their marriage. Eileen's family still wasn't speaking to her; Tobias refused to bring his 'freak' wife and son to see his own family. He also refused to allow Severus outside very often, and so Severus had no playmates or anyone his age to associate with. As a result, he arrived at school with almost no social skills. His unusual behaviour, manner of speaking and way of relating to those around him made him a target. He turned his rather considerable intelligence to defending himself, but that only further alienated him.
"By the time he was sixteen, the thing he needed most — more than affection, more than guidance, more than money, more than friends — was control. Control over his behaviour, control over his emotions, control over with whom he had to associate and why.
"It wasn't even control over others that he wanted. It was control over himself, over his own life and his own destiny.
"And the Dark Lord offered it to him. And offered him forbidden knowledge in the process.
"I've seen him adapt a spell so he could read in the shower. Severus is by far the only I've met with such an obsessive need for knowledge and books, although you come a close second," he amended with a gentle smile.
Lucius stared hard at her for a few moments, before asking softly, "What would you have done, if you were him?"
She refused to answer, instead looking at her hands which were now clasped tightly in her lap.
"Severus holds no particular dislike for Muggles, Muggle-borns, or half-bloods, so near as I can tell; he even had the unmitigated audacity to argue with the Dark Lord over the fate of a Muggle-born. I've never known him to hold a blood-prejudice, and if it were truly a tightly held belief of his, I rather think I have been in a position to have found out about it before now."
She couldn't help but snicker slightly at the ironic truth of that statement.
Lucius gazed at her, and spoke so softly that she almost didn't believe she heard what he said next.
"In fact, if Severus were to have a 'type', I strongly suspect you are exactly that."
But when she jerked her head to look up at him, he was already gone.