TW: Mentioned child abuse
-November 22, 1991-
Voldemort stared blankly at the book in front of him, his eyes not picking up the words. He continued to struggle to read, and the more the words evaded him, the more he pushed himself to focus. It had been two days since the strange incident in his office, and the only proof that Voldemort had that showed he wasn't crazy, was the wilted flowers his son had given him, preserved by magic.
His eyes strayed towards the flowers, their haunting beauty sending shivers down his spine. Despite being wilted, petals crumbling to dust at the slightest touch, the flowers retained their charm, and morbidly, they seemed to be even more beautiful dying than they were alive.
Voldemort desperately wanted to know who, and what the being that visited him was. He shuddered as he felt the phantom feeling of the being caressing him, nimble fingers tracing his features... The being's touch was strangely... intimate, almost loving. The thought sent another shiver down his spine.
Voldemort suddenly snapped the book in his hands shut, the loud thud echoing against the walls of his silent study. Voldemort stood, going through the motions of picking out another book to replace the useless one in his hands, all the while, his mind was running in circles.
The words the being said to him made no sense. How could he have stolen something from it, when Voldemort didn't even know what it was. And the way the being accused him... it was almost as though Voldemort had stolen something precious from him.
Voldemort didn't know anything about this being's so-called, 'Master,' but the way the being had whispered his soul, a phantom breath brushing against his lips----
Voldemort slammed the book in his hands shut once more, a mortified blush spreading across his cheeks. Voldemort forcibly removed those thoughts from his head, refusing to dignify them any longer. How embarrassing! Voldemort was a powerful, immortal Dark Lord, yet here he sat, brooding in his study like some blushing school girl!
With a growl, Voldemort stood and began to comb through his books, his crimson eyes trailing over each spine as he searched for anything that would be even remotely helpful to him. He needed to find out what that being was and what it wanted from him.
Voldemort refused to bend to the folly of some unknown being, and so, being the powerful Dark Lord that he was, Voldemort was going to discover this being and conquer it.
The opening of his study door alerted Voldemort to his intruder, but the sound of leaves rustling confirmed the intruder to be his precious child, so Voldemort feigned disinterest and continued his search for a good book. Just as Voldemort had found a book that might be helpful to him (An album titled, Omens and Deities of Magic), Little One pounced.
Voldemort let out a dramatic gasp and fell to the floor as Little One crawled onto his chest. "Oh! You've got me!" he said, covering his face in the crook of his elbow. "Whatever shall I do?"
Voldemort's chest vibrated from Little One's silent giggles. He felt small hands pat his face gently, and Voldemort allowed himself a small peak to see his son's smiling face. "Silly Papa." Little One said softly, lightly tapping his cheek.
Voldemort felt a burst of affection rise up inside his chest as he watched his child. He had missed seeing Little One this happy, and there wasn't anything in the world Voldemort would rather do than sit here with his son.
"What's 'dat?" Little One asked softly, pointing at the book Voldemort held in his hands. Suddenly, Voldemort was reminded of the incident that had occurred two days ago.
"Papa's researching something right now, precious," Voldemort answered. "This book might help me."
"Can I help?"
Voldemort smiled softly and gently carded his fingers through his son's inky black hair. "Of course, dearest, why don't you go find a book for me?"
Little One beamed and set off to complete his task while Voldemort sat back and opened his book. As the sounds of Little One rustling about his study filled the room, Voldemort began to read.
It is believed that countless deities reside within Mother Magic's domain. Voldemort raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Where Magic is believed to be the True Power, magic-users throughout the centuries paid their respects to the other forces of nature. They would make sacrifices and rituals that honored the Deity, and in return, strengthened their magic. There are hundreds of deities that were worshipped throughout time, but the most common were that of the Four---
"Papa! Found book!" Little One's voice pulled him out of his reading. He looked up from the old album in his hand to see Little One's smiling face peering up at him. He held out a dusty book, and Voldemort fought back a dismayed grimace when he realized the book his child was touching was very old and very cursed. Had Little One been alive, he'd be covered in countless boils and writhing about his floor in agony.
"I see that precious," Voldemort said softly, using wandless magic to get the book, Necromancy and Death Magiks, as far away from his child and himself as possible. (Voldemort could've sworn he locked that book up in a curse-container.) "You've been so helpful!"
Little One's smile could put the sun to shame, and Voldemort found himself smiling in return. "Papa play now?" Little One asked, an adorable pout spreading across his face.
"Sorry dearest, but Papa needs to keep reading," Voldemort said ruefully. "Why don't you go and play with Nagini?"
With his son taken care of, Voldemort allowed his crimson gaze to return to his book, picking up where he left off. There are hundreds of deities that were worshipped throughout time, but the most common were that of the Four: Lady Magic, Lady Fate, Lady Life, and Lord Dea---
"Papa play!"
Voldemort withheld a sigh as he looked back towards his child. Little One had his arms crossed and his pout had deepened at Voldemort's dismissal. Voldemort could see he was one wrong sentence away from a tantrum.
"Papa wants to play, baby, he really does. But Papa has a lot of work to do. If I play with you right now, then I can't play with you later," Voldemort said carefully, hoping to appeal to the toddler. "Don't you want me to play with you later?"
"No! Papa play now!"
Voldemort took a deep breath, and slowly placed his book down on his chair before he walked over to where his rebellious son stood. "Little One," he said warningly. "I'm very busy right now. If you let me finish my work, then we can play together. We can go out to the gardens, that sounds like fun, yes?"
Little One's bottom lip began to quiver, and Voldemort braced himself for the inevitable tantrum. "P'wease, Papa? We play now?"
Suddenly, inspiration struck. "Okay darling, I'll play with you."
"Really?" Little One cried, his demeanor shifting from morose and sad to excited and happy in seconds.
"Yes! But first, Papa needs his little helper. Can you be my little helper?" Voldemort asked.
"'M helpful, Papa." Little One said, pointing at his chest with his thumb.
"Then can you please go find Nagini and bring her here? Don't you think she wants to play too?" Voldemort asked, a smirking internally when Little One's eyes widened comically and began t nod his head.
"I find Snake-momma!" Little One said before he turned around and raced off, his delicate curls flopping as he ran.
With that situation solved for the next few minutes, Voldemort returned to his chair and lifted his book. He'd need to come up with a plan once Little One returned with Nagini, but for now, Voldemort wanted to continue his research.
However, just as his eyes found the line he'd been reading, a sudden feeling overcame him. He felt like he was forgetting something important, but Voldemort couldn't remember what it was. What was the date, today?
Suddenly Voldemort's eyes widened and he jumped up. "It's election day!" he cried to himself, internally cursing his forgetfulness. If not for that strange incident two days ago, Voldemort would not have forgotten and almost missed the announcing of the new Minister.
Voldemort quickly left his study, the book he was reading lay forgotten on his chair, as he searched his closet for his robes. Just as he'd finished getting ready, the door to his bedroom opened and in walked the other thing he'd forgotten.
"Papa? Found Snake-momma!" Little One's excited voice rang through his room, and Voldemort internally cringed when he saw Little One's eyes appraise his clothes. "Papa... Papa leaving?"
Damn.
"Little One, I forgot that I have some very important business at the New Ministry today, so I'm afraid I'm going to be late for our play-date." Voldemort refused to acknowledge how stupid he sounded using the world, 'play-date', in favor of soothing his now devastated child. "Please don't be upset! I promise I'll play with you as soon as I come home!"
"Papa stay!" Little One whined, his fingers clutching the hem of Voldemort's robes tightly.
"I'm so sorry dear heart," Voldemort said, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. "I really am."
Voldemort could sense another tantrum and his mind raced with plans on how to prevent that. Voldemort suddenly smiled and kneeled in front of Little One. "Papa stay?" Little One asked, his bottom lip wobbling once more, huge crocodile tears swelling up in his eyes.
"Do you want to have a play-date with Uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot?"
Little One paused, blinked, then tilted his head.
Voldemort smirked. Checkmate.
__________
....................
__________
Severus had no idea what kind of game that pair was playing, but Severus was not amused. After the impromptu apology from Black, Severus did his best to avoid the couple like the bloody plague. Outside of training, (in which they did not talk under any circumstances) Severus stayed as far away from them as possible.
Yet even when he was avoiding them, Black and Lupin's strange behavior continued.
Part of Severus' punishment was remaining in the Dark Lord's castle where he could be kept an eye on, and when the pair weren't spying on the Order, they too were confined to the Castle. Despite his best efforts, Severus continued to bump into the couple at random times in the day.
Severus did not acknowledge them when it happened, but out of the corner of his eyes, Severus could see Lupin smiling at him and even stranger, Black would smile at him too! It made no sense. If they were trying to get friendly with him in the hopes that they'd rise up in the ranks, their chances were slim to none.
The other Death Eaters seemed to notice the odd behavior, and though Severus was no longer apart of the Inner Circle, he was still a high ranking Death Eater, so almost no one dared to question it. For that, Severus was grateful.
That's not to say no one questioned it, though, as Bellatrix seemed fond of teasing him relentlessly. Severus knew that the Inner Circle was pissed at him for betraying the Dark Lord, so Severus supposed this was Bellatrix's attempt at punishment.
Anytime he saw the witch she'd smile at him madly and coo, "How're Sevvy-kins little puppies?" Severus would just grit his teeth and walk briskly in the other direction.
He knew it was meant to be a taunt, but Severus couldn't help but think about how strange it all was. The way they were acting around him was giving Severus serious deja vu, but it wasn't until later that day when Severus returned to his 'room' and was relaxing on his bed, did the thought hit him.
They were acting as they did all those years ago, back during Hogwarts, when they treated him so strangely for a few months in his sixth year.
-February 4, 1975-
"Damn them!" Severus hissed to himself, casting a drying charm on his soaked robes. He'd barely managed to escape James Potter from another one of his 'harmless pranks', only to end up falling face-first into the Black Lake. To save himself his dignity, Severus opted to hide underwater until he heard Potter and Black laugh and walk away, then, just to be safe, he waited another ten minutes after that.
By the time Severus ended up getting out of the water, it was dark, and Severus was freezing. His robes, despite the drying charm, stuck to his body, making horrific squelching noises as he walked. Luckily it was ten minutes to curfew, so there weren't many people around to witness his humiliation.
Another shiver racked his body, and Severus wound his arms tightly around his waist. Severus could feel the cold seeping into his bones, sucking all the warmth from his body. All Severus wanted to do was curl up in his bed and pretend today never happened.
Severus looked down at his robes with a regretful sigh, pointedly looking away from the rips at the hem. Severus only had three school robes---one of which was currently being mended by a kind-hearted Hufflepuff after one of James Potter's pranks tore a hole through the bottom---and Severus couldn't afford to buy any more. He'd bought these robes second hand as it was, and they were just a size too small for his lanky body, causing them to stretch awkwardly on his thighs and bottom, and of course, the water was only making it worse.
In short, Severus was miserable.
He could only hope that his robes weren't as destroyed as they felt. Severus had no idea what was in the water with him, and he'd been in said water for a long time. Hopefully, the long-lasting charm Severus had applied to it at the start of the term held.
(There was no way he'd be able to afford another pair, and Severus would sooner die than tell his father he needed money for his school things. Tobias would probably kill Severus would asking, and Severus didn't appreciate limping around school trying to hide his lashed back.)
Severus could feel his hair sticking to the side of his face, small beads of water trailing down his face and neck. Severus hadn't bothered drying his hair, as he intended to shower before he went to sleep anyhow. There really was no telling what was in that lake. As Severus turned the corner that led to the Slytherin dorms, a bead of water landed in his eye, causing Severus to blink rapidly in an attempt to get rid of the unwanted moisture.
In his disorientation, Severus turned down the wrong corridor. It wasn't until he looked up to see none other than Sirius Black and Remus Lupin making out against the wall, that he realized how big of a mistake he'd just made.
Severus was frozen in place, his onyx eyes wide with a mix of awe and horror as he stared at the couple in front of him.
He'd heard, of course, that the two had become a couple. Severus was forced to listen to Regulus rant about what a disgrace his brother was whenever he was in the common room. Severus had to admit, it was surprising until it wasn't.
Looking back, Severus could see the obvious tension between the two. Even when they were making Severus' life a living hell, they seemed to fall back towards each other. A small part of him was proud of the pair---not that Severus would ever admit it---that they'd managed to cause such a stir of drama within the Pure-Blood circles, that talk of the growing Dark Lord Voldemort was pushed aside for a short time.
Another small part of Severus was jealous of the pair. Jealous because they had no shame and didn't care about what everyone else thought of them, obviously. No other reason.
Severus realizes, a second too late, that he'd been standing there for too long.
Lupin and Black are staring back at him, an indecipherable expression resting on both their faces. Severus can feel his heart pounding against his chest, and every part of him was screaming 'run', but Severus' feet were glued to the ground.
Suddenly, a smile spread across Lupin's face. The Gryffindor's face was flushed, and his lips were red and thoroughly abused, shining against the gentle torchlight on the walls. Severus fought to keep his face indifferent at the sight.
Severus felt his eyes widen slightly when Lupin removed his hand from around Black's waist and beckoned him forward. Severus watched as his other hand trailed the length of Black's back, moving lower until it cupped Black's bottom in an overtly sexual suggestion.
Severus finally found his feet, and he took one small step backward. Severus felt another bead of water roll down the side of his face and neck, pooling in the divot of his collarbone. Severus, despite wearing too-tight and soaked to the bone robes, felt suddenly naked. He could feel Lupin's gaze burn holes on his chest.
Severus shivered---from the cold or the heated stare, Severus didn't know---and that was when Black made his move.
Black's face contorts into a determined glare, and he slips out of his boyfriend's hold. The leg that had previously been in between Lupin's was now striding towards Severus with purpose. Severus didn't want to stick around and find out what Black planned to do with him for interrupting this private moment.
Severus flinched hard at Black's movement and Severus finally felt his adrenalin course through him, prompting Severus to do what he should have done the moment he stepped into the hallway.
Severus turned around and sprinted as fast as could towards the Slytherin dorms. He ignored the calls from behind him as both Lupin and Black cried his name, valuing his life far too much to allow himself to be murdered by Black.
He made it to the portrait that opened up into the Slytherin dorms just as Black turned the corner, an equally disheveled Lupin following behind him. For one split second, Severus allowed himself to take in the couple.
Black's shoulder-length curls were messed up, no doubt from Lupin's hands, and his shirt collar was unbuttoned slightly, giving Severus a glimpse of his hickey-covered neck and shoulder. Lupin was missing his robe, only wearing the uniform shirt and trousers, and his shirt was untucked, his belt undone. The pair looked thoroughly ravaged.
Then, that split second was gone.
Severus whispered the password as fast as he could and tore open the portrait. He caught a glimpse of Black, his eyes widening when he realized that Severus would get away. "Severus---"
The portrait slammed shut, cutting off whatever Black had intended to say. Severus heaved, trying to regain the air in his lungs, as the small handful of students in the common room stared at him blankly.
Adopting his indifferent mask, Severus ran a hand through his damp hair before he walked briskly up the stairs that led to the male dormitory. Severus ignored his dorm mates in favor of walking into the bathroom and starting a shower. Severus stripped of his soaked robes and stepped into the hot spray.
His body shivered at the drastic change of temperature before he relaxed, the heat easing the aches of his body. Severus carefully washed the gunk off of his body and hair before he stood, relaxing under the water.
When Severus exited the bathroom, clad in his only pair of pajamas, Regulus was sitting on his bed, his eyebrows raised as he faced Severus.
"Had a run-in with my idiot brother, did you?" he asked.
Severus didn't answer, and he didn't need to. They both knew the answer to that.
"Look, I'm sorry about him," Regulus said softly. "I'm glad you managed to get away. Who knows what Sirius would have done if he caught you."
The image of Lupin staring at him suggestively, lips abused. Black glaring at him with determination, almost hungry. The heated stares he felt against his bottom as he ran away from them, as they chased him. The way Black had called out his name with desperation---
"Yeah," Severus whispered, burying his face in his pillow. "Who knows what would've happened."
The next day, Severus told Professor Slughorn he felt ill and spent the rest of the day hiding in his dorm.
Severus lets out a soft sigh as he covered his slightly flushed face with his hands. Severus turned over and let his face rest against the pillow.
"Why is this happening to me?" he whispered to no one.
He is answered with silence.