“Wait,” Serena called him back, “stay if you like. I’d wager you’re here for the same reason we are.”
Mark nodded once, and beckoned to Kay and Sophia who were still out in the hallway. They entered the round tower room together and joined the small gathering of students from the other Houses, which included the Snape twins, Andromache, and a few Prefects. “How many?”
“We counted twenty-two,” Andromache said, “four from Slytherin, seven from Gryffindor, six from Ravenclaw, and five from Hufflepuff.”
Mark grimaced, “the percentage of students wearing green and silver continues to drop dramatically. We’re going to completely disappear one of these days.”
“Your House didn’t lose the most students!” Dierna snapped at him hotly. Not at all appreciating his small bit of humor in this dark hour.
“This time,” Kay replied just as hotly, “we didn’t lose as many as you this time, because there aren’t as many for us to lose. Look at the size of our House! We’ve lost far more than you can even imagine.”
“Want to bet?” Dierna took a step forward, hands tightly balled into fists as she thought of her mother lying so close to death. And this little twit thought she hadn’t lost anything?
“You wouldn’t be the first one to lose a parent,” Kay spat as she jerked her head in Mark’s direction, “why don’t you try thinking of someone else for a change instead of wallowing in your own self pity!”
“I would thank you to leave me out of this,” Mark said coolly as he stepped between the two girls, preventing them from going at each other. “In case you haven’t noticed this is not the time to be arguing.” He looked to Andromache to see if she would back him up.
“He’s right,” Andromache said briskly, feeling that as the Head Girl she really need to stay strong in a time like this. “We just watched nearly two dozen of our fellow students leave for the Christmas holidays. And we all know that…” she stumbled over her words for a moment, “we all know they’re not coming back,” she finished quietly.
“Say it as it is,” Mark said in an equally quiet, although more powerful, voice, “they’ve left to join the Death Eaters, either through their own will or their parents’. From now on they are not your fellow students, they are not your friends, they are not your classmates, they are not your Housemates. They are Death Eaters. And you would do well not to forget it.”
“How are we supposed to forget people who we’ve gone to school with for nearly seven years?” a soft-hearted Hufflepuff asked.
Mark shrugged, “if you can’t I would start praying to whatever deity you like that when they come, and they will attack again, that they are wearing masks. So much easier to attack a faceless enemy than one you may know…”
“I wonder what will happen to them now that they’ve left…” a Ravenclaw pondered.
The Slytherins exchanged looks, their House alone knew what was the fate of the defectors. They were the only House with students who had escaped the fate of becoming followers of Voldemort even though their parents wished it. The Gryffindors may have bravery, but Slytherins were survivors. It didn’t take heroics to escape the Death Eaters, you just had to be cunning and sneaky. You didn’t fight your way out, that led to death. You had to slither out, close to the ground, and hope that no one saw you making your escape.
They didn’t offer to share their knowledge though. It was a topic they had decided was best left in the dungeons. It seemed more casual their, discussing torture and death among the low lights in the deep depths of the school. It didn’t have a place here in one of the upper towers, where the winter light reflected with an almost painful brightness of the watery looking glass.
Of their fellow spectators only Andromache noticed the look shared between the Slytherins. The rest of the students had turned their attention to the carriages now leaving the school grounds. Taking away students, who once they left the school grounds would no longer belong to Hogwarts, but to Voldemort. She silently vowed to find out exactly what it was the Slytherins knew. Even if she had to break down the door to their Common Room and force them to tell.
Mark could feel Andromache’s calculating stare. Even though they had put aside House differences to a certain for their roles as Head Boy and Head Girl, they were still very different. There were just certain things that some people couldn’t understand. If they told the Gryffindors what awaited their former Housemates they would want to run off and heroically rescue them. What they didn’t understand was that some people couldn’t be rescued, and some of them didn’t want to be rescued.
They viewed most people as inherently good. The Slytherins took the view that most people were inherently bad. Damn, he thought, I’m nearly as cynical as Snape.
~~~~~~~~~~~
“You look horrible.”
“Hmmm?” Remus hadn’t even heard the barb. In fact, he’d been ignoring his wife all evening, something that was very quickly irritating her.
“Honestly Remus, you haven’t been listening to a word I’ve been saying.”
“What?”
Kalliope rolled her eyes, “what, in the name of the goddess, are you doing over there?”
“I’m currently not feeding my daughter, because she refuses to eat,” it had been a few days since he’d shaved and it looked like nearly as long since he’d last combed his hair. “Please sweetie, just eat something.” But the fussy infant kept turning her head away from the bottle that Remus offered her, no matter what he tried. “Come on, if you don’t eat Angelos will be nearly twice your size before to long…”
Kalliope watched his efforts in silence for awhile. Theodora had been the only one of the priestesses to defy her orders about aiding Remus so far. And Theodora’s little charge, a young girl from the village hadn’t been far behind. Now the two of them offered Remus whatever advice they could. However, it didn’t appear to be working. If Remus didn’t get the child to eat soon she would die. It might just be the best thing for the temple, the girl certainly wasn’t auspicious to have around. And that ghastly arm… or lack thereof… while it melted Remus’ heart it turned the stomachs of the priestesses. Those who had some education knew that it was probably the product of bad grain. However the peasants would keep eating it, because they didn’t wish to starve, and they would keep producing deformed children that they would expose. It was a horribly vicious cycle. Unfortunately the temple didn’t have enough resources to help them all. There was only so much they could do.
“Maybe I could apparate back to the wizarding world for awhile, take her to Poppy…” Remus mused out loud.
“Sweet Circe, Remus, you have absolutely no idea what you are doing!” Kalliope finally snapped.
Remus looked hurt, “I know what I’m doing, haven’t I taken perfectly fine care of Angelos? He eats on the few occasions I’ve given him a bottle. I just don’t understand what is wrong with her…” he looked back down at the child in his arms. “Please Kleopatra, just a little bit, for me.” He tried offering her the bottle again, but with the same results.
“Oh, just give her to me!” Kalliope held out her arms.
“Why?” Remus looked at his wife suspiciously, he knew of her dislike for his foundling daughter.
“Just do as you’re told wizard,” Kalliope snapped. She was still frowning at him as he handed over the infant. She held the child in one arm while she deftly took out the pins from one should of her gown, letting it fall open. Within a few seconds she had the girl nursing happily. “There are some things that just take a woman’s touch. I wish you would learn when it’s time to admit defeat.”
Remus closed his mouth when he realized it had been hanging open in shock, “she never ate like that for me.”
Kalliope sighed, “goats’ milk just isn’t the same, wizard. She is a rather sweet little thing,” she gently ran her thumb over the child’s cheek, eliciting a brief smile from her before she went back to eating. It made her smile as well. She’d lost her own little girl, and it appeared that now she had two little ones to look after.
“Does this mean you’ve gotten over your dislike of her,” Remus observed. He smiled contentedly as he gently set Angelos’ cradle in motion with his foot. This was how things were supposed to be. One whole, loving family, not discord just because his little girl happened to be missing her left arm.
“I never disliked her. I merely didn’t want a revolt on my hands, such things are not unheard of.”
“I heard mention of that,” Remus leaned forward slightly, “would they really…?”
Kalliope sighed, “not now. Your devotion to this little girl has won Theodora over, the others will follow her lead.” She laughed softly, “I can only imagine what Rheia would think if she could see this. She would not be at all pleased… she was overly concerned with the appearance of the temple and those who maintained that. I supposed she instilled a little of that in me…”
“You have a lot of people you are responsible for. I understand why you took the position you did. I’m just happy to see that you’ve come around. How could you say no to that face?” Remus stretched his feet out in front of him as he leaned back in his chair. He was completely content in this little scene of domesticity. One child asleep, the other nearly there… his wife looking particularly beautiful this evening with her dark hair shinning in the dancing firelight. If it weren’t for the dark wizards running about things would be very close to perfect. He hoped that one day they would be. Voldemort couldn’t win again, could he?
~~~~~~~~~~
The demons were back again tonight. His personal ones. Their dark wings beat against his skull, trying to break free. They were always there, tormenting him, reminding him of what he had done, of who he really was. He had accepted their presence a long time ago, realized that they would never truly leave him. But they had stayed hidden for a time. But tonight… tonight they were out in full force.
The firewhiskey wasn’t helping either. Instead of driving them away it only seemed to make them thrive even more. It gave them strength, it made them remember things he had willed himself to forget.
Severus glared at the dying embers. He didn’t much care if the fire went out. He was used to the cold and the dark, it was where he belonged. It wasn’t through depreciating self-pity that he thought so either… oh no… he knew what he truly was, his soul was dark. His very being stank of the deeds he had done, from the moment he had been born he had been destined for darkness. Perhaps he should end it, take his own life… it was the only way to save the world from him. There was no telling what atrocious acts he could perform. Society disgusted him, perhaps it would do well to destroy it as it had destroyed him.
“Is Master Snape needing anything?” Misty tentatively poked her head into the office. She had never feared her master before now. But in the days that had followed the tragedy… she once again found herself in Tiberius’ service. Olivia had asked for her father again when the House Elf had put her to bed tonight, she had told the girl that he was busy and couldn’t be disturbed. He was, in fact, busy getting drunk in an effort to drown out memories, but was succeeding only in bringing them closer to the surface.
“No, leave me.” The words were short and sharp. Despite the amount of drink he had consumed they were not slurred, they were still clear and well defined, but to the point. Even while bordering on drunk Severus maintained his composure, his cold outward demeanor. This mask was as much who he was as anything else. It was as much a part of him as the dark mark that had been burned on his arm. He hoped he would pass out before too long. Maybe he would drink so much that he wouldn’t wake up. That was a happy thought.
“Let Misty know if you is needing anything sir,” the House Elf mumbled as she backed out of the room. Loyalty to the family she served kept her from going to any of the staff at the school with news of her master’s behavior. But she wasn’t banned from talking to the rest of the family, the adult ones, no need to bother the children, perhaps next time Kamen and Viviane visited she could work up the courage to let them know… perhaps…
His peace and quiet having been disturbed, Severus decided they weren’t worth having anyways. He’d go see Morgan instead, hold her hand, talk to her, keep up his delusion that she would come back to him. He knew that these false hopes were painful, so he did his best to crush them. The demons helped with that, they were always ready to trod on his hopes, to beat them into the dust.
“Perhaps I will join her when she goes,” he spoke to himself. “If life is not worth living without her perhaps death will be a reward if we shall once again be together.” For the first time in days he thought of his children. They would of course grieve for their mother, but they would survive. He was certain that Viviane would take Olivia. So there were no obstacles. Nimue was settled in Greece and the rest of them were old enough to take care of themselves.
There was nothing standing in his way. He could join Morgan without adding any further guilt to his conscience. He had enough guilt already. He had enough guilt to last him for several lifetimes, let alone one. Perhaps he wouldn’t be with Morgan after all. She was his savior and he would most likely spend eternity paying for the sins he had committed. There were too many of them to go unnoticed.
But it was no more than what he deserved. He deserved to suffer, he deserved to burn…
His downward spiral was brought to an abrupt end by a pounding on his door. He was strongly tempted not to respond. For all he knew it could be Minerva with more of her unwanted sympathy. However, the fact that it could be news of his wife’s slipping condition made him move toward the door.
He met Mark McKean’s eyes. He realized that he used to have to look down a lot farther to do so, now their eyes were nearly even.
“Sorry to disturb you sir, but I… that is all the Slytherins… we know that you must be suffering greatly, but we always have been a selfish House and we miss your company. Actually, the Prefects and I miss your firm hand where the Bulstrode terrors are involved. They’re impossible to control.” He tried to keep his tone light, but a faint hint of desperation crept into it, “we miss you sir.”
“I am in no mood to entertain students tonight, Mr. McKean,” Severus said, mask carefully concealing all that he was feeling in both his expression and tone.
“That’s all right sir. I just wanted to let you know how we felt. As much as some of us understand why you can’t be with us right now, we’ve felt your absence. Amelia is taking it especially hard, as are the other ones who look at you as the closest thing they have to a father.”
Severus allowed Mark to keep on rambling for awhile. Not really listening to what he had to say. Perhaps he should spend some time in the Slytherin Common Room. Not for companionship or to offer himself as a mentor, but for the ritual it provided. Ritual was comforting, it didn’t require an active thought process. He could still be alone with his demons, there in his head, and the Slytherins would be happy because he had made an appearance.
But not tonight, he wasn’t feeling up to it tonight. It would have to wait. Once the cursed pounding in his head ceased, and it was nearly always there now, then he would return to see them. “I will stop by when I find the time, Mr. McKean. Return to the Common Room.”
Over the years Mark had learned when he could argue and protest one of Snape’s orders, and when it was wise to just keep his mouth shut. Now was the time to follow the second course of action, so he merely nodded before showing himself out. He walked back to the Common Room staring at the shadows moodily. He wasn’t sure if his visit had done any good or not, but it was the best he had to offer.
