conzieu (conzieu) wrote in severus_sighs, @ 2010-02-26 09:29:00 |
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Current mood: | giddy |
Fleeting Beauty by Conzieu
This is the first story I have ever posted!
It is one of three, and the last one is an an NC-17 Snarry.
Title: Fleeting Beauty
Author: conzieu
Pairing: Eileen Prince/Tobias Snape
Rating: R
Word Count: 1977
Warnings: Domestic violence
Summary: A significant day in Snape's childhood
A/N: Many thanks to janice_lester, editor extraordinaire, and torina_archelda for her very patient help in guiding me through my first post.
Fleeting beauty
Severus had not known his mother was beautiful until he was eleven.
He loved her, loved her absolutely, but had always known she wasn’t pretty, pretty like Lily’s mom, or like Mrs. Westfield, their next door neighbour.
She was very thin, and pale, and her straight black hair, generally unwashed, had always either been held back in a severe ponytail or twisted in a messy knot at the back of her head. Her clothing was drab and shapeless, her posture defeated, her nails dirty and her eyes haunted. She never smiled at anyone but him, and then always a quick, sudden smile that disappeared as soon as it came, leaving only the impression of itself in its wake.
Yet, a week before he was to take the train to Hogwarts, an hour after his father had left for work, she had stepped out of her room, and she had been beautiful.
Her hair had been clean, and shiny, parted on the side, tucked behind shell-like ears, and falling, straight and lustrous, to the middle of her back.
Her dark, dark eyes had been lightly lined with kohl, her lips a lovely shade of rose.
She had been wearing a very fitted, short, and sleeveless summer dress, like the ones Lily liked to put on her paper doll. It moulded her small round breasts and spectacularly displayed her long, shapely legs.
Severus had stood in shock, his mouth gaping open, unable to take his eyes off her.
“You are so pretty, Mama.”
“I borrowed the dress from Mrs. Westfield, and spelled it to fit.” She gave him a wistful little smile. “I wanted to look nice today. I wanted you to be proud of your mother.”
He had known (and had been thrilled), that they would be going to Diagon Alley, that day, to pick up his books. He now realised that for the first time in over twelve years, his mother would be returning to her world, where people knew who she was, what she was. People who mattered. Wizards and witches.
He involuntarily looked down at himself. He was wearing his best clothes, black pants, black shoes, and a white shirt that fit. His mother had insisted he take a bath the night before, even though his father had complained of the waste of hot water. But he would never look nice. He was scrawny, his hair, which is mother would not let him cut, hung limply on the side of his face. And even at eleven, one could tell he would have his father’s nose.
As if sensing his thoughts, she had kneeled in front of him. Looking up at him, she had said: “For a man with your magical strength, your power, and your brains, Severus, appearance, clothing, will never matter. But for me…” She looked away for a moment, lost in thoughts. There had been a bitter note in her voice.
She stood up again, and shrugged.
“Let’s go, Severus.”
She apparated them neatly to the Newton le Willows floo station, the closest one to their home, and to Severus’ distress, used the majority of their money to purchase their way to the Leaky Cauldron. He forgot his concerns, though, when upon stumbling out of the fireplace behind his mother he found her just standing there, staring in the eyes of a very tall, very handsome and very blond man, in full wizard dress.
He could tell that the man was thinking exactly what he had thought himself, only fifteen minutes ago. His mother was beautiful.
“Eileen,” the man said, her name like a caress on his lips.
His mother turned to Severus, and held out her hand. He walked forward to take it.
“Abraxas, this is my son, Severus Tobias Snape. Severus, this man is an old friend of mine, Abraxas Malfoy.”
The man’s eyes travelled up and down Severus' skinny frame, and he held out his hand, which Severus shook, firmly, as his mother had taught him.
“Powerful,” said the man, and Severus knew immediately that the man was not talking about his sweaty grip.
“Yes,” said his mother.
“Well, young man,” said the blond wizard, “ let’s go get your supplies.”
They went from shop to shop, for robes, cauldron, and books and Mr. Malfoy paid for everything. In each case, he offered to purchase the best of what was on offer, the most expensive, but Eileen insisted on the strict minimum. Plain black robes, standard cauldron, used books (though they were in pristine condition). Only in the wand shop did she relent. At Ollivander’s, Severus got to try even the most expensive wands, until he found one that felt like an extension of his own body, a magnificent mahogany wand with a core of unicorn hair.
“Use it well,” was Malfoy’s response to his heartfelt thanks.
Once he had all he needed, his mother gave him a few coins to go and get himself some ice cream at Fortescue’s. She would meet him there, in a short while. He headed that way, but turned back to follow them as soon as his mother and Mr. Malfoy went around the corner, entering a small empty public square. He cast a “Notice me not” charm upon himself with his new wand. (It was very advanced, and quite illegal for an underage wizard. His mother had taught him that spell, and loaned him her wand to cast it, for the nights when his father came home drunk and querulous from the pub.) He followed them, coming close enough to hear their conversation.
“I have missed you, Eileen. More than you know.”
“Abraxas, please. Don’t.”
“You could have stayed. It would have blown over…”
“What would have been the point? There was no life left for me here.” Her beautiful voice sounded bitter. “Once she exposed us, the married man and his harlot, I had to leave. I may have been too poor, too dark, and from too modest a line to marry into the Malfoy Family and bear the next Malfoy Heir, but I do have my pride, Abraxas.”
“I am sorry, Eileen. So, so sorry,” Malfoy said.
“I know.”
They were facing each other, staring into each other’s eyes.
“You are so beautiful,” he said, bringing up his hand to cup her face.
She involuntarily leaned into the touch, even as she said: “Don’t.”
“I love you still, Eileen. I always have. And I always will.”
She closed her eyes. “Stop,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. He wiped it with the pad of his thumb, and asked, darkly: “Is he good to you, that Muggle?”
She straightened up from his caress, and stepped back.
“Tobias is a wonderful man, a good husband, and a great father,” she lied, her gaze open and true. “ We may be poor, but we are very happy.”
Abraxas looked very sad, and defeated.
“I am glad,” he said. “Thank you for letting me help with the boy’s things,” and then in a small, pained voice: “I wish he were my son.”
“He is your godson. And you have your own,” Eileen reminded him, not unkindly. “A pure blood, aristocratic, powerful son, just like his father.” She looked up with a glint of humour in her eye, that Severus had so rarely seen. “ And blond, I presume.”
He smiled back, grateful.
“Lucius is twice the wizard I am, Eileen. He is a wonderful boy. A Slytherin Prefect.” He chuckled. “His hair is so blond, it’s almost white.”
“Then all is perfect in the world,” she said, lightly.
“No, it’s not perfect,” he answered, sighing resignedly. “But if you are happy, then it is good enough.”
“I have to go,” she said. “Severus will be wondering what happened to me.”
He grabbed her hand before she had a chance to walk away.
“Will I see you again?”
“Of course not. You have met Severus. Next year, he will come alone. Thank-you. We could not have afforded to send him to Hogwarts without your help.”
“I am his registered godfather, even if you did not want it, even if no one knows it,” he replied quietly. “Will you let me get to know him, now?”
“And how could that possibly happen?” she asked, curious.
“He will be in Slytherin. I can feel it,” Malfoy answered. “As powerful as he is, I am sure Lucius will befriend him. He can be a mentor, a friend to your son. If it happens, Eileen, will you approve?”
She nodded, but then looked up at him defiantly.
“He is a half-blood, Abraxas. Would you allow such vermin to contaminate the purity of Malfoy Manor?"
They stared at each other as the memory of another voice saying these exact words echoed between them.
“I am the head of the family now, Eileen. My godson will never have to fear being turned away from my home.”
“Lucky him,” she answered, bitterly. Then, quietly, she added. “I would like to go and spit on her grave.”
“I do,” he answered seriously. “Every chance I get.”
This time, when she walked away, he did not stop her.
Severus ran madly ahead, ended his spell and stood on the pavement in front of the ice-cream parlour, his heart racing.
“You were gone a long time, Mama,” he said, knowing that making her feel guilty would distract her from noticing he was still a little out of breath.
“Sorry, Severus. Let’s go home.”
“Who is that man, Mama? Why did he buy my things?”
“He is an old friend,” she repeated, and bitterly added: “And he bought them because we are too poor to do so ourselves.” She stopped suddenly and turned to him. Looking intently at her son, she said:
“Work hard, Severus. I want you to be the best student there. I want …everyone to know that you are the most powerful wizard in that school.”
Severus was scared. What if he failed? What if disappointed her?
“I’ll try, Mama.”
Her face softened. “If you try, then you will succeed. You have it in you, Severus. I know it. Let them all know it.”
That night, when Tobias came home from the pub, he was drunker than usual. Whether it was her clean hair, or the glow from her memory of Abraxas’ open admiration, he took notice of his wife. He pushed her against the sink, and tried to reach under her shapeless housedress as he pressed his lips onto hers. Eileen pushed him off, with both hands, and he saw the disgust on her face. He erased it with a violent punch, breaking her nose and knocking out one of her front teeth.
He left her to slowly sink to the floor, blood pouring from her nose, and went into the parlour to watch the telly. Severus, who had been hiding in the corner next to the cupboard, ran to her. He picked up her tooth from the worn linoleum, and held it toward her, tears streaming down his face. She took it, and stared at it for a long time. Then she pulled herself upright, and walked like an old woman to the rubbish bin. She dropped the tooth in and closed the lid. She wiped the blood off her face with her sleeve.
“Go to bed, Severus.”
“Mama…”
“Go to bed, son.” She pushed him gently in the direction of the stairs. He could hardly see for the tears still streaming from his eyes, but he listened to his mother, went up to his room and slipped into his bed, still dressed, burying his sobs in the thin pillow.
She let her face heal without magic, and the day before he left for Hogwarts, she gave herself a haircut, chopping down the long black strands unevenly, to just bellow her ears.
Severus’ mother was never beautiful again.