FIC: Rabe und Wolf, PG13
Title: Rabe und Wolf Author: Rosy Rated: PG13 Challenge: Fairy Tale Challenge Disclaimer: The Potterverse does not belong to me, and I do not make money off of it. More's the pity. Summary: There once was a puppet who wanted a heart Warnings: AU, somewhat dark Notes: ...this is what happens when you watch Princess Tutu, read too many Grimm’s Brothers and Hans Christian Anderson, and then find out there's a Fairy Tale Challenge going on at Lupin_Snape.
Once upon a time, there was a puppet who killed his maker. But where the old man was kind, the puppet's new master was cruel. The raven, however, chose to deceive the puppet master, rather than kill an innocent family.
When the puppet returned to the puppet master, his hands were coated with blood and gore from a slaughtered boar. The puppet master was pleased that the house was burned to a cinder, getting rid of any sign of who may have killed the Potters. "Very good, Rabe," he said, smiling. "Now they can never link us to these murders. Surely now, we will be safe and we can begin to work."
The puppet said nothing as he wiped the blood from his hands. But no matter how hard he wiped, the wood stayed tinged with red from the stains. 'How appropriate,' the puppet thought, 'that my hands will forever be stained with blood.' The puppet master laughed when he saw the stains, and handed him a pair of gloves. "Out of sight, out of mind. You will soon forget all these troubles. You have done well, and you deserve your reward." The puppet master led the puppet to his workroom. It was very different from the old man's workroom. Puppets hung on strings from the ceiling, their heads lolling towards the entrance. Some seemed to sway towards the puppet master, their face frozen in expressions of abject adoration. The others cringed away, their faced lined with pain. The raven puppet felt a creeping feeling along his spine, though he couldn't label it. His eyes turned from the adoring faces, as he thought them fools, and landed on those faces lined with pain. Their blank, expressionless eyes seemed to lock onto him, warning him of some fate that he himself could not see. He did not realize that it was already too late.
The puppet master bade him lay upon a long, thin table, and then tied him down. "It will be painful for you," he said, a smirk on his face. "But this is what you've wanted. A heart for your empty breast, to make you human."
The puppet nodded, frowning at the restraints. "I will bear any pain, to have a heart."
The puppet master smirked, and then proceeded to carve out a hole in the puppet's chest for the heart. Pain burned through the raven, lancing his arms and chest and legs until his head spun with it. It hadn't been this way with the old man. The old man had lovingly released the form of the raven from the wood, shaping it with the most gentle and delicate touch. The puppet master was harsh and cruel, forcing the wood to submit to his whims. He had no thought in his mind for the pain, only that the wood should bend to his will whatever the cost. When he was finished, the puppet master took a piece of coal from the scuttle and wedged it into the hole he had carved. "Listen well, Rabe," he said. "This is your heart, but it will not grant your wish. For if you feel any truly strong emotion - hate, love, joy, or sorrow - the heart in your breast will catch fire and burn your to a cinder."
"You have deceived me," Rabe said coldly, feeling rage rise up in his chest. The coal began to smolder, and he quickly covered his heart, forcing the emotion away. "Why?"
The puppet master laughed. "You are quite possibly one of the old man's greatest creations. And from you, I will find the old man's secret. He knew how to turn puppets into people. I will do the opposite: I shall turn people into puppets, so that I will have the power to rule." The puppet master forced the puppet into a stone room without windows. "I saw that the old man gave you a book on potions. You will learn that craft well, for I am sure there is a way to accomplish my goals through that art. In the morning, I will come for you."
The puppet looked forlornly at the locked door. The room was supplied with books and tools for anything he could make, but there was no moonlight or sky for him to see. He walked over to the small cot and sat upon it, looking down at his stained and scorched hands. "I should have been patient," he murmured. "For surely, I am the world's greatest fool to think this master better than my old one." He looked at the worktable, eyes narrowed. "But I will make sure he cannot accomplish this plan of his, for he would give all the world a heart of coal to trap them." He pulled the gloves onto his hands, and picked up another book. "But I must be alive to do this. No longer kind Rabe will I be. I must sever myself from all emotion. So I shall call myself Severus."
And so it was for many years, the raven would by day be tied to the puppet master's shoulder, and by night he would be locked in his room. His heart of coal remained cold and safe, and he was able to ensure that no draught or potion was made to accomplish the puppet master's goals. But still, the puppet master grew stronger and more powerful. He gained followers, who saw his power and lusted after it. Others grew fearful of him. There were some brave enough to stand up to them, but Severus often saw what became of them. Soon enough, the puppet master felt so assured of his power that he let Severus walk amongst his followers. They often called him the Master's Pet Rabe, and few called him by name. But he cared not, for every passing day he grew colder and colder.
One day, one of the puppet master's servants announced that he had found a spy. He dragged the man draped in furs into the puppet master's room. A fission of fear raced through Severus, and he hopped along his perch in agitation to try and smother the feeling before it could catch in his heart and smolder. Three of the puppet master's servants forced the man in furs to kneel in front of the chair, so that their master could see him. The puppet master frowned at the man in furs. "You are Remus, friend of the Potters and follower of the old fool,” he drawled coldly. He stood up, circling the man in furs. "Do not try to deny it, I already know that much. How odd that you are here..."
Remus looked up, his amber eyes cold and fearless. The puppet master regarded him, and then looked at Severus. "I shall have to punish my little Rabe. He told me all in the woodcutter's cottage had died. And yet you live. Tell me, did anyone else survive? Has my little Rabe lied to me about the Potter's dying?" Remus remained silent and still, refusing to answer. "Take him below. And you," he said to the raven. "You will come and see the price for your lies."
Remus was dragged to the workroom below, the puppet master forcing the raven to follow. Remus was stripped and then tied to one of the puppet master's worktable. The puppet master carved his punishment into his skin, until he could stand no more and fell unconscious. The raven croaked in distress, "Stop! Stop!" But the puppet master refused to listen. He woke Remus and continued again and again, until the raven screamed in pain. The coal smoldered in his tiny chest and he had to smother the emotions welling up in him. The puppet master asked only one question of Remus.
"Do the Potters live?"
Remus remained silent, refusing to answer, despite the pain. The raven flung himself from his perch, trying to escape the tether and get to Remus. But to no avail. Finally, the puppet master spat at Remus. "Lock him away. We will dispose of him tomorrow." He turned to Severus. "You may spend the evening with your friend before he dies. Perhaps it will school you better than if I punished you myself."
~*~*~
They were both thrust into a room in the bowels of the Marionettenmeister's manor. Remus had been tied hand and foot, and hit the floor hard. The servant flung him across the room, so that he couldn't fly back and peck at them before they could lock the door. There was no doorknob on this side of the door, only a keyhole lock. Severus had to control himself, for his heart was smoldering in the wild cacophony of emotions that were spinning in his chest. When he was calm, he took stock of their situation. Grim, very grim indeed. He hopped over to where Remus lay, quiet and still. He croaked softly, fluttering his wings. Remus' eyes opened slowly. They were swollen from being hit. His body was bruised and beaten, and he was obviously in pain. But he managed to smile. "You never betrayed us, did you?" He croaked softly, hopping forward. Gently, he began pecking at the ropes binding Remus' wrists. "What are you doing, little Rabe? You can't be thinking of escape."
"Quiet!" He croaked. He continued pecking until the ropes unraveled and Remus could sit up, rubbing his wrist. He did the same to the ropes around Remus' ankles. He hopped over to Remus' shoulder, nipping his ear gently. "Escape! Escape!"
"How? We are locked in." He glared slightly. Stupid man. He hopped over to the door, and then fluttered up to the lock. He pecked at it, working his amber beak into the keyhole. It was difficult, since Remus was in no shape to hold him up to the lock, and he had to keep fluttering around the lock. The amber of his beak chipped and cracked, but the lock gave a click and then slid back. He fluttered down to the floor, panting heavily. Remus crawled and shuffled over, and then picked him up. He settled Severus on his lap and gently pet his head, back, and wings. "Won't you get in trouble?" Remus murmured, looking concerned.
"Escape..." he panted. "Escape..." He leaned into the touch as Remus petted him. He hadn't been touched this way in the years he had been with the Marionettenmeister. There was no kindness in him, only cruelty and the lust for power. Remus pet him, and though he knew they were running out of time, he couldn't bring himself to push away this small show of kindness.
Remus continued petting him, letting Severus regain his breath. "We were worried, after our escape," he murmured. "We wondered if you would tell him that we were alive... but you haven't. And he won't ever find the boy now. A wise woman told us that the child is the one to destroy the Marionettenmeister, so that his evil cannot taint the world anymore. We'll keep him safe... and you'll help us, won't you?" Severus croaked softly, leaning into the touch. A soft warmth was filling him, calling to the cold echoes of his chest where the coal would occasionally smolder. Remus drew it out of him, made it grow and spread throughout his body so that there was no coldness or loneliness left in him. The heart of coal started to spark, and Severus had to pull away. "What is it, kind Rabe?"
Severus couldn't explain, but he was given no time in any case. He felt the ripple of the change come on him. Though there was no window to show sunset or moonlight, he could tell that night was coming. He hopped away, his body stretching and creaking as he changed. There was no pain for him, for this is how he has always been. He heard another noise; a series of sharp snaps, pained gasps. And a low, pain-filled howl. It confused him, until he could settle into his clothes and gloves and his new body. When he looked up, he was shocked.
The silver wolf was in the room with him, and Remus was nowhere to be seen. He looked at the wolf, confused. The wolf walked over and nuzzled Severus' hand. "Oh I see..." he murmured. "You are like I am. During the day, you are Remus. At night, you are the wolf." The wolf leaned into the gentle petting. "You must escape. The Marionettenmeister will kill you tomorrow. Come." He stood up, and opened the door. There was no guard at the door, since no one thought that the raven or the man could pick the lock. They moved quickly and silently down the hallways. Severus led the wolf to a door that led to the garden.
"You will have to jump the wall," he said quietly. "Then you are free. Go. Go and keep them safe. Don't come back, for the Marionettenmeister will kill you." The wolf tugged gently on his sleeve, trying to coax him into following the wolf. "I cannot go with you. I must stay and make sure he cannot do what he wishes. He is very, very close to finding a way to strip the will of someone, to turn people into puppets. Go now."
The wolf gave his gloved hand a gentle lick, and then ran for the wall. In an almost liquid leap, he cleared the wall and dashed off into the night. Severus stood in the moonlight, for the first time in many nights. He closed his eyes and listened to the soft calls of owls and nightingales, the cricket's violins. His heart felt cool, no longer smoldering with fear and... something else. Something warm and soothing. Something that he hungered for. He sighed, looking up at the moon. "Herr Dumbledore said my story will not end happily... but if I could make one wish, it would be to feel this emotion to it's fullest before I die. For I know that this is how it will end."
The moon looked down coolly at him, and gave him no answer.