The voice under all silences. Chapter 6
THE VOICE UNDER ALL SILENCES. Chapter 6
Author: [info]pekeleke Pairing: Severus Snape/Harry Potter Word Count: 4715 Rating: N-17 Summary: Four years after the final battle Severus Snape wakes up to HELL! Warning(s): Strong language. A/N: First snarry fic, ever. English is not my mother tongue so mistakes are to be expected. Beta: None Disclaimer: The characters used in this fiction are not mine. No money is being made from it.
THE VOICE UNDER ALL SILENCES. Chapter 6
By the time Draco returned he'd discovered that the world had changed, indeed, while he'd been... asleep. He'd lost count of the number of people who had waltzed into his room, under the guise of ever-more-ridiculous excuses, just to... gush!... At him!... It had all been rather... off putting. He was bewildered by the inexplicable attention. By the almost universal friendliness and outright hero-worship. He could not understand how it was possible for him to have gone from the role of Machiavellian villain to some kind of... self-sacrificing uber-spy in the space of a four-year, coma-induced, absence.
So... Potter had not been joking when he'd implied that he'd been busily wagging his lying tongue, in order to create the most awful kind of chaos in his life! He was exhausted within the first five minutes of brainless, repellently infatuated... gushing. Mildly irritated before the first half-hour had struck and, absolutely livid!, by the time the forth moronic nurse attempted to hand-feed him grapes! The scene, so ghastly reminiscent of the horrifying images his abhorrent father used to watch, with those horrid pals of his (in the all-important “television”), incensed him so much that he'd delivered a forceful reprimand. One cutting enough to drive the offensive “perpetrator” away in flood upon flood of tears.
His eyes closed and he swayed on the bed with sheer exhaustion. He felt wretched. His aching limbs plopped tiredly against the mattress and he sighed. Heavy eyelids started to shut down as his formidable control finally slipped and he felt himself succumbing to magically-induced drowsiness. The combined power of the rather large quantity of Draught of the Living Dead that seemed to have been administered to him, teamed up with the -more recent addition- of the Pain-Away potion and he found himself gritting his teeth furiously in enraged frustration. He could not just... succumb... to the power of the potions! Not here: where he felt this... vulnerable. Not inside a room that seemed open to absolutely everybody who cared to walk in on him! Where he was... unprotected... in every sense of the word!
He had been dumped in this strange reality he could not understand. Was totally unable to predict the actions of the people that surrounded him. Had no trust in the fake kindness that was offered to him in such... horrendously over-the-top way. He could not count on his magic to defend himself. Was altogether too sick to have much faith in the strength of his own body and found himself, most regrettably, unarmed. All in all, he had no confidence in either the situation nor his own chances of escaping it unharmed -if things turned for the worse- and, therefore, had absolutely no intention of allowing himself to be subjugated with his own weapon of choice: the brewed kind.
He had just startled awake, once more. Body shaking with the need to just... close his eyes for one more second and allow himself to... indulge...! when a man he finally recognised materialised, quite suddenly, by the door... His pale face flushed with pleasure. Tired dark eyes warming in exhausted welcome as the familiar blond hair caught the strong sunlight, filtering into the room through the half-opened curtains. ' Draco...! '
A brilliant smile lit up the boy's features and he started to cross the room, shaking his head from left to right and muttering half-jokingly: ' There's an absolute uproar out there, Godfather! Haven't been back among the conscious more than half a day, and you've already made the staff break out in tears! '
Draco sat on the chair next to his bed and sighed wearily. Gray coloured eyes raking his face with a focus so intent that it made Severus deeply uncomfortable. ' It is good to have you back, old man! ' the silver-tongued heir to the Malfoy fortune told him very softly and he felt his throat just... close... with the intensity of the feelings he was experiencing. Awkward things he knew not how to express: gratitude and joy and simple, plain contentment.
He blinked very slowly. Allowing his whirling thoughts to overwhelm his awareness of his own clumsy emotions, in order to bring himself under some form of control once again. There was something he wanted to do. No! There was something he needed to do, so badly, that his instinctive need to just... go ahead and do it!, was warring with the deep terror caused by the knowledge that... were the results of his little experiment to show him just another lie... he was not honestly certain if he could go on. Not with his mind truly intact. Not after having seen this happy, strong version of Draco.
A hand came to rest, carefully gentle, over the blanket-covered lump that was his raised left knee and he startled. Charcoal-bruised black eyes turning to stare, inquiringly, straight into a smoke-coloured sea of earnest understanding.
' Why don't you just... do it, Godfather? ' Draco's voice asked him softly, a wry smile curving his pale lips upwards when he motioned towards the door with a slightly frustrated sigh: ' Potter is being an absolute nuisance! I don't know how long it'll be before he barges right in and, frankly, I'm fed up of walking over eggshells around you! I'm certain you are dying to know for sure and I can't say I blame you! I want to reassure you, Severus. So that you may trust me again completely! I want to see more than just hope in your eyes and the only way for that to happen is for you to stop thinking about it so hard and just... just do it, all right? I promise it'll be OK! '
The speech had caught him off guard. Crushed half his doubts in and of itself because... Whom, other than Draco himself, could have possibly sensed his... reticence... and offered to address it quite so generously? His wary inhalation couldn't manage to dispel the unpleasant weight of the lump so steadily constricting his raw throat and it was almost a full minute before he found, within his pitiful reserves of courage, strength enough to ask one simple question: 'Why was it that the first potion I ever taught you to brew was the Gnome Repellent Mist? '
Crafty laughter broke forth from his godchild's lips. The sound so fiercely joyful that it managed to bring a brief touch of mirth to Severus's own eyes. Draco seemed to have trouble calming down for a few seconds. Silver flashes of relieved amusement simply dancing around his pupils as he giggled to himself. ' I'd have paid the house-elves their weight in gold to have a memory of you trying to explain that particular choice to my dear mother, Severus Snape! As it is... I'll sadly have to content myself with imagining the scene, because we both know that the very first potion you ever taught me to brew was the Blue-Serum Burn Salve: a very rare variant, indeed, of a fairly common potion!. You insisted I learn that first because I am allergic to the standard solution and you wanted to have a fresh batch readily available in the lab if, as you put it:” I was going to be carelessly stampeding around the dangerous evils of an open flame and boiling cauldrons ”! '
Severus could have whooped with relief. He'd stilled completely as the answer spilled forth from Draco's lips and a wave of dizzying joy surged through him... So it was true... It was true! Dear Merlin! It was true that this was Draco. His Draco...! not some ghastly polyjuiced version, brought forth to trick him in any way! ' I... I hope you are not offended, Draco, but... I had to be sure! '
Pale bangs fell across solemn grey eyes when the boy's face turned slightly. A thoughtful expression flitting across those unfamiliarly matured features as the young man's voice acquired the soothing quality of a father, patiently addressing the irrational fears of a very small child: ' I have now lived in peace for four long years, Godfather. You, on the other hand... have just awoken at the very edge of war. No time, at all, has passed inside your mind! You remember nothing but destruction. You can only see the world as you saw it then: In terms of either enemies or allies. Light and dark. Shame and treachery. Betrayal... You can't really see any of us as we are now. At least not yet... I'm just glad that you now believe me to be exactly who I am! That you'll trust me when I say that I am here to help you, with anything you might need! '
All thought halted in his head for a brief second and he allowed himself to enjoy the fierce stab of profound pleasure that swelled within his heart, upon hearing his godchild. To have proof, beyond all doubt, of the kind of beautiful, caring man that his precious boy had turned out to be, was a blessing he had not expected to live long enough to see... And he was grateful! He was happy! He was proud enough to explode!
' I am so glad to be here, Draco...! ' he managed to utter, fiercely!, through the lump in his throat.
Soft gray eyes, alive with hopeful joy, settled over his own chalky features and he basked in the devotion shown towards him. ' Gladness is too mild of an emotion, Godfather. Gladness is for distant friends and pets. Gladness is for summertime and cheerful, merry parties. It can't, not ever!, express the wild relief we are all feeling in having you awake... At last! There is a world out here that has waited -far too long!- for you to join it and, now that you are finally with us, you'll see how things will settle. You are going to live in peace, at last!. Safe and secure among the people who love you. Just as you deserve...!'
-What he deserved...- His heart froze in shuddering distress as those words hammered him with the true horror of his current situation. Draco knew not what he had done... What Potter had demanded from him! What he had -so willingly- sacrificed in order to keep this man, who now sat at his bedside, away from certain harm. He'd be... forever embroiled, in a war he could not win, with the son of his dead enemy! A silent, painful war no one would see... He would die, someday, a slave. A man possessed by another's zeal for revenge. A terrible empty shadow of the boy whom, so long ago, had only craved recognition and acceptance. How... futile... those dreams had turned out to be! How... dangerous... They had led him down a path of self-destruction that had brought him, in the end, to this sickbed: just a broken, worn-out replica of himself: aged and more bitter than ever, yes. But still... equally pathetic on the inside...
' Godfather? '
Draco called him so softly and yet... so intently. Silver eyes alive with both: worry and suspicion. He'd have given half his soul to smile reassuringly, just this once, up into that paling face but found himself unable. He simply... lacked the strength.
' What's wrong, Godfather? You must talk to me! '
Churning fire began to whirl in his empty stomach as the awful rage threatening to break him started to boil within, only to be brutally forced into a slow simmer. Forever repressed into a powerless force: unseen and voiceless. Useless...
' I am tired ' he finally whispered, avoiding eye contact like the true coward he was. Gritted jaw forcing excuses aloud as his heart shrank, so very heavily, into the darkest pit of Hell. ' I have found no respite from my... carers. I had no chance to sleep. I am just... exhausted... '
Draco rose from his chair, dragging himself nearer. Slender right hip perching elegantly on Severus's own mattress as it's owner sighed in frustration, attempting futilely to force their gazes to clash. ' What are you not telling me, Severus? What did Harry say to you? What did he do? We know he tried something! Father has been trying to get him to confess, through hook or crook, but he's just... keeping mum about it all! '
His every muscle turned to stone at the mention of Potter and he wondered why, on Earth!, Draco felt the need to call the irksome creature by the name bestowed upon him by his detestable father. ' Potter has done nothing out of the ordinary to me. You know how aurors are, Draco! Always so... keen on self-righteousness. I find them all to be as distasteful as they are tiresome. We do not see eye to eye... '
For a long time there was silence: Thoughtful, worried silence. Then a hand rose, very slowly, to curl around his chin, forcing his head upwards. Ebony eyes had no other option but to lose themselves in the earnest silver depths of Draco's gaze. ' Harry Potter would rather die than cause you harm. You know that. Don't you, Godfather? '
He shivered unconsciously. Suspended for the longest time between the need to just... shut his eyes closed -refusing to utter a single word further- and the almost visceral instinct to appease his godson's very obvious distress. ' I know that he has become some kind of... advocate... of mine, in recent years ' He finally settled upon uttering a fact instead of answering. Praying to every god he could remember the name of, for Draco not to pick the evasion up.
A small smile: rueful and surprisingly fond, curved the delicate lips of the Malfoy heir. ' He's been an absolute terror, let me tell you. From the moment I first contacted Pomfrey about you! He drove us all insane: always coming around and demanding to see you...! I thought Father was going to poison him at one time, just to have a moment's peace...!'
A reminiscent chuckle broke that startling revelation and he prayed for the boy to just... shut up! He did not want to think, or talk, or ponder about Harry-Bloody-Potter in any way at all! But, as usual, the fates decided to thwart him -no matter his desires- and he found himself listening to his godson's solemn words with heart-pounding distress:
' We threw him out, you know? Warded the manor specifically against him and, for a while, things seemed to settle. But then he went to the press and started to tell your story to whomever cared to listen and it was... Well, it was a revelation, really. The turning point in those ghastly post-war months for all of us... '
He must have looked as shell-shocked as he was feeling. Hearing his own godchild describe the horror of Potter's cruel revenge, as it formed and took root, had hammered into his mind just how... utterly twisted Lily's child had become.
Draco's curious grey eyes bored into his: ' Were you really that close, Severus? I still can't understand how I managed to miss it! I remember how coldly you treated him at Hogwarts. Always thought you both detested each other with the kind of passion that doesn't tend to relent, to be perfectly honest! '
He blinked dazedly. Bewildered and uncertain of his footing. He did not know how he could answer such question. Had no idea at all, being it true or blatantly fabricated, of how to explain the unexplainable without sounding... unhinged... ' I thought so too, Draco, but... you know Potter. He does tend to behave in... unexpected ways '
For some unfathomable reason those wide young shoulders drooped with abject disappointment at his answer. ' So you did not... care... for him? Really? I can hardly believe that! '
Severus frowned in disconcerted bewilderment. ' I went to my death detesting the child! I thought him too wilful!He was both: disrespectful and ignorant. He would run all around, like some kind of tragically victimised urchin, without taking the time to understand that he was never truly alone in his endeavours! That he was putting all of us at risk by never bothering to listen. Or even think!... Never mind being mature enough to make the effort of attempting to understand the delicate nuances of a situation that was, plainly, well above his head! '
Draco seemed to have turned into stone. ' You... You hated him? Truly? But that doesn't make any sense, Godfather...! He was so... relieved to find out you were alive...! He visited: All. The. Bloody. Time! He went as far as suing Rita Skeeter over that ghastly article she wrote about you! How could he have done so much, worried so much, worked that tirelessly to clean up your reputation if he had no hope, at all!, of ever...?'
Severus wanted the conversation halted as soon as humanly possible. He was sickened by the implications he could hear. Horrified by the magnitude of the Gryffindor's deception and the fact that it had succeed, so completely, in convincing someone who'd had that much access to them both during the whole of their acquaintance. Someone who knew Severus himself better than many... ' Draco, I have no wish to speak of Potter! ' he finally stated firmly and was dismayed when his damaged throat produced a terrible croaking rendition of his resolute request for a change of subject.
His godson's pondering halted for a long, drawn-out second, and he found himself swallowing his discomfiture under the sharp look being directed towards him. ' No! No. This has to be clarified. Right now, Godfather! ' Draco's beautiful, pale features had turned eager in the blink of an eye. A sudden flash of urgent, crystal-clear awareness bringing new and almost terrifying determination to his insistent grey gaze: ' I don't think you are understanding what I am trying to tell you, Severus... I believe that something Harry's done or said to you managed to unnerve you greatly, and I want to allay whatever fears you are currently having with regards to our “ Saviour”! '
He felt his every bone snap into the utter rigidity of a pre-duelling stance. There was no way on Earth that he was having this conversation in his current frame of mind! No way that he was having this conversation with his current companion, either. Not for all the magic of the Founders!. ' I am not afraid of Potter! ' He snarled those six words with a savage, affronted growl that unleashed pure agony on his shattered vocal chords.
Silver coloured eyes darkened, in concerned dismay, as they registered his instinctive wince and careful, loving hands rose to cup his ashen cheekbones, framing his chalky face for a long second, before Draco's reassurances were resumed in earnest: ' There is nothing to fear at all! That's what I'm trying to tell you! Whatever he's done or implied... it's just his stupidity talking, Godfather...! Potter has no elegance at all. No finesse! He gets nervous and then... tramples all over his own words like a... A Gryffindor! But I have seen him, many times!, looking at you! Have been witness to his actions all these years and I swear to you, Severus, that the man must l... '
' Malfoy!... Your father is searching for you!'
They both jumped, as if burned, when the subject of their conversation suddenly spoke. How had Potter snuck behind Draco, without either of them noticing it? How long had he been there, so rudely eavesdropping on their private conversation? Severus shuddered in horror at the idea and he hoped the bastard had heard enough of it to know, exactly, just how much he still despised him!, despite their loathsome deal.
Black eyes clashed with that narrowed emerald stare to find themselves snared in the obvious pain displayed there. He could not understand the man's odd moods. All those feelings so openly exposed, for anyone to see!, within the brilliant green orbs that Lily gave him: They had to be false, of course. Another one of those brilliant little acts that seemed to have, so effectively, convinced the whole world of... What exactly?... That Harry Potter thought Severus Snape to be not so totally horrible? Somehow he found the idea to be way worse than laughable. He could not understand how anybody in possession of good neurons could have, ever!, fallen victim to so unbelievable a deception. But then, listening to Draco's words, it was obvious that they had. All of them!: His godson and Luc... The entirety of the staff at St. Mungo's....
Suddenly remembering the crazy claims of the printed headlines he'd thought he dreamed up, he began to consider the possibility that he had, somehow, been truly released from Azkaban that day... That he'd been really trapped inside that painful copy of his own chambers... that his “unravelling” mind had never been unravelled to begin with and that he had, never!, made up that strange encounter after all. Hadn't dreamed almost suffocating to death in Potter's arms. Probably hadn't dreamed all those visitors, speaking all around him, while he laid trapped in virtual semi-conscience either... No. It must have been all mostly real: the first step of Potter's vengeance, finally being put into careful action, and he... he had panicked and fought him! He had made himself sick... He had placed himself, all the faster, right into the little bastard's hands!
' Ah, Harry! I see the healers have managed to set you back to rights with no visible trouble! I hope Father fared as well, or Mother will be unbearable to be around come dinner time! '
Draco's greeting was so baffling that Severus's mind could not make neither heads nor tails of it. His head turned sharply towards his godchild, missing completely the warning look exchanged by both youths but catching, in the sudden paling of Draco's aristocratic visage, the blonde's rebellious reaction to it. A mulish look descended over the Malfoy features he knew so well and, for a second, he believed himself to be staring at Luc as he'd been all those years ago: Proud, determined and so ultimately mistaken that it broke his heart anew.
Associating with the, then charming Tom Riddle, had been Luc's brilliant idea. He'd believed -in those early days- that a close collaboration with the emerging rebel would, ultimately, bring them quite the fortune. They both had believed so: eighteen years of age and as brainless as old boots... Luc had been so very wrong then... and so was Draco now. Severus did not want his precious boy anywhere near the demented “Saviour of the World”.
' Draco: do not fight with Potter on my behalf, child. It'll be a waste of time. I assure you that I am perfectly capable of dealing with every irritating auror life decides to throw at me! Do not... worry... about this. Please! '
Somewhere behind his godson's shoulder Potter gasped. Whether in outrage or in amusement to his words, he had no interest at all in finding out. He had eyes only for Draco. Ears only for the voice of the precious child he was attempting to protect, properly, this time! He could not focus on anything at all that did not involve convincing his blond angel to walk away from Potter. To stay away from him. To desist, at once: completely!, from antagonising the mighty Head Auror, no matter what the reason. Least of all on Severus's own behalf.
Draco looked right into his ashen face and he was certain the boy did see the anxiety within. He was human after all. Had always been so, regardless of what His-Holy-Saviour thought, and he found it very hard to become blank as stone before his loved ones. Draco narrowed his silver eyes. Pale, long hands curling into fists when he half-turned around to look towards their visitor.
Awful silence fell between them all as his godson seemed to struggle with his own thoughts. Potter remained still. Emerald eyes narrowed to slits while he confronted Draco's bewildered glare with truly impressive poise.
' I don't understand what's going on here! Harry... what...? '
' Everything it's going to be OK, Ferret! ' The bastard hurriedly interrupted his boy and the sheer rudeness of that attitude, let alone the atrociously offensive name he'd dared to call Draco in his presence, made him grit his teeth in an agony of frustration. How he wished he could wring the jerk's thick neck! Break it carelessly in two! Set himself and his godchild free from this green-eyed tyrant!
Draco turned around once more. Gray orbs settling upon Severus's temper-coloured cheeks with obvious worry. ' I am not sure...'
' You have my word, Malfoy. My solemn vow! '
They ignored him completely, in order to exchange some sickeningly trusting little look of understanding, and he felt like shaking the Slytherinness right back into Draco's, suddenly Hufflepuffish, mind! What was wrong with his boy that he could, so casually!, forget six whole years of school-yard rivalry and the full damage brought on by a war fought on opposing sides?
Draco nodded in agreement and it was all he could do not to scream at him, enraged. This was exactly what he wanted, wasn't it? For his godson to believe their loathsome charade, to the point of abandoning suspicion. He didn't want these two to square off, under any circumstances, if he could help it and yet... He found a sudden lump closing off his throat. Oppressing his windpipe, with mighty force, as he simply sat there and stared dumbly at Draco. He realised that he felt betrayed. Abandoned. Utterly cheated. No matter how much he tried to rationalise the thought, he could not shake the awful feeling of... abject disappointment... coursing through his veins at the idea of just how easily it had been to convince his godchild.
' Godfather? '
The call reached him softly. That tender voice that he so loved turned -to his dismay- into the newest embodiment of hurtful betrayal as he unconsciously compared this situation with others that had harmed him before: Draco Malfoy, beloved son in everything but blood, became linked in his mind with the likes of Lily Evans. Of Albus Dumbledore... He'd cherished those two throughout the years. Had placed more faith in them than on any other and they had, both, let him down so painfully. Abandoned him to flail, alone!, against his fate during his darkest hours...
' Godfather? '
Draco's voice reached him anew and he shuddered instinctively. Trying to convince himself firmly of the fact that the blond-haired child he'd loved, from the very first second that he'd held him!, wasn't at all like either of those two. That he hadn't placed his battered heart, again!, in the wrong hands.
' Severus? ' Potter's fake concern attempted to rouse him next and that turned out to be the very last drop he could possibly absorb without... spilling over...!
' I am tired ' Was all he said and meant it. He did not look at either of them. Would not, could not, allow himself the horrible indignity of showing them just how... hurt... he felt inside. He lowered himself onto the mattress properly and, very carefully, turned his back on them. Mindful not to jostle his broken arm.
He did not see the looks the boys exchanged but could certainly imagine them without effort. He did not think he'd manage to sleep, either, anxious as he was -with those two still together, in the same room- but he fell victim to the potions coursing through his veins almost at once...