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Descent	By : Remarkable Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 1763 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to the Harry Potter series or its affiliates and make no money from the publication of this fic. Damn, huh?

Chapter List
- 1-Descent
- 1
Dear Readers: This story is REALLY FUCKING SAD, so if you don't like that, please don't read it. Thank you. You've been warned.

Descent ...... for best angsty effect, please go to http: //www.youtube.com/ watch?v=9wxrB41PMhw with no spaces, or look up the below names piece, to read along with the fic. It was inspired by said named piece below, and I really dig it.

Inspired by Cristofori’s Dream by David Lanz

Eileen Snape, nee Pince, stared sightlessly out the window from the second story that was her very plain home, in the very dirty and urban Mill District of Manchester. She allowed the screams of the babe in the cot one room over to subside behind the torrential rain beating against the window pane. It throbbed, almost in time to the purpling bruise fresh on her cheek that morning. This time, she hadn’t served her husband his breakfast fast enough. The cold mess of bangers and mash still lay scattered across the kitchen floor.

All she’d done this day, since he had left for work, was quietly change her son, set two bottles down in his crib and walk away from his outstretched arms, his rising wail never touching her as she turned her back and strode from the room to sit in the hard-backed chair by her window and daydream. If her husband returned home unexpectedly, she’d hear the front door slam and return to the drudgery of her so-called life. Until then, her mind wandered that of the creeping mentally ill and severely depressed.

Today’s daydream came unbidden, trapped in her own mind, the realism of imagery holding her hostage.

‘Tobias! Oh, Tobias, can you believe it? I’m so excited – it’s too good to be true!’

‘No worries, babe, I’m going to take good care of you. See, the mill’s done hired me and now with the new house all ready to go, all you’ve got to do is pack up your stuff. Do you think your Da will help you move?’

Eileen’s eyes shuttered closed and shifted off to the side. She’d yet to even tell her parents about this man – this Muggle man, she was so utterly in love with. The past six month’s she’d fallen utterly head over heels in love with him. In her daydreaming foolishness, she’d somehow believed that next week – next month- yes, that would be the time to tell them of this wonderful, strong, loving man that held all of her life’s hopes and dreams in the palm of his hand.

It didn’t matter that he didn’t know a whit about her magical heritage. Tobias was a simple man. He was so above and beyond the trappings of Pureblood society; one that Eileen was so utterly sick of. Parties and dresses and courting and backstabbing held no favor in her heart. Tradition was crap, for the old, stale and crusty of wealthy society. All that held her heart was fire, passion and knowledge. She wanted to make the world a better place and saw so much potential in sharing her gifts tutoring half-blood and Muggle children of magical heritage who might not be able to afford a regular Hogwarts education.

She’d ignored the red flags that waved so ominously in front of her. Her first slip-up of magic in front of him, cleaning herself with a flick of her fingers, she explained was a magic trick. His reaction had been less than pleasant, also the first time an ugly sneer had graced his features as he narrowed his eyes and told her magic was for dunderheads and she better forget about such nonsense around him. A good life was for good, honest, hardworking folk, not those who lived with their head in the clouds and believed in superstitious twaddle.

Eileen was more careful after that. A belated Christmas gift from a friend that arrived via owl whilst she was at his flat had him suspicious of her cheating on him. She told him she knew the postman and as she hadn’t been at home, he’d dropped it off for her when she’d gone outside for a fag. The gift itself was a charm bracelet which mysteriously disappeared less than a month later. Eileen assumed she’d lost it, never guessing he’d destroyed the piece in a fit of misplaced jealousy.

He’d spent time in prison but it was all water under the bridge. Petty theft, drugs, public drunkenness and assault; it was always someone else’s fault. He was young and dumb, they’d set him up, made him the scapegoat, and poor old Tobias got the short end of the stick because he was a little slower than the rest and more trusting, giving.

Eileen understood. She was also a misunderstood young lady, and easily identified with his plight. It hurt to be singled out and harassed, the odd duck. What a lucky girl she was, to have landed such a kind and understanding, simple man. All he needed, no, deserved, was a good woman to love him to keep him on the right track. She was going to be the one to guide him, prove to him she loved him, and they would show the world. They would be happy.

Only, he was incensed when she told him she hadn’t told her family about them.

‘Are you ashamed of me? Eileen? I’ve bought us a house, gotten a good job, hell, I’ve even put a down payment on the furniture! This is how you repay me? Well, damn. If I’d have known you were playing both sides of the fence I wouldn’t have gone to the trouble.’

He’d crossed his arms over his chest, eyes black with fury and stomped a few feet away, trembling.

Eileen had rushed to placate him, running her hands up and down his arms. Ignoring the fact that HE hadn’t told HIS family about HER, she cried and had spent dubious minutes pleading with him to forgive her that they wouldn’t understand because they were so possessive of her time and person.

Tobias had taken her arm sharply, hurtfully, and dragged her up the steps to the home he’d procured for them. Pulling out the key, breathing harshly, his lips were grim with a scary determination that frightened the young witch.

Once inside, he’d thrown her down roughly onto the couch only to lay himself lengthwise on top of her. This wasn’t the man she’d grown to love; this was a terrible angel come to wreak havoc on her young body.

‘Tobias! What are you doing? No! Not like this!’

‘You’ll prove it to me! Prove to me that you love me, and maybe I’ll forgive you for lying to me!’ he’d raged, roughly pulling his belt buckle back and ripping the long length of leather free from the looping confines through his work trousers.

‘I do love you! You know I do! I’ve never lied to you, dearest, please don’t do this!’

He’d stopped then, black eyes searching her deep brown ones as if for answers to the meaning of life. Large, thick hands held hers down above her head, his tall, lanky but much heavier frame nearly crushing her under its dead weight.

‘How can I trust what you say when you let me assume this was alright? That your family knew about us? Now they’re going to blame ME for taking you away from them, their precious little girl. You’ve put me in a precarious position. I don’t like being thought of as some kiddie fiddler, Eileen, a cradle robber snatching young ladies from their childhood bed. That’s what they’re going to think I am. You’re eighteen years younger than me for chrissakes! That’s why I have to punish you, so you never do something like this, ever again.’

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think of it that way, I never thought this would hurt you. If I’d told Father about us he’d have me locked away and never let us marry!’

Tobias Snape had sneered at her again, that same ugly curl to his lips that she’d seen only one time before. It was not one she would soon be forgetting, as it would make its appearance known many times over the following years of misery.

‘Daddy wants to lock you away, does he? Well, if he’s going to think the worst of me anyway, I may as well give him something to think about.’

With that statement he’d assaulted her. All of the times before he’d been careful, using protection and making lover to her as tenderly as a bloke who’d grown up on the dole and an alcoholic father with a history of womanizing, was able, and now he’d done a complete one-eighty.

He hitched up her pretty skirt and pulled her knickers to the side, hastily freeing his erection through his Y fronts and trousers pushed around his thighs.

Those black eyes burned into her and he roughly thrust into her bareback. ‘Going to get you fucking pregnant, see how Daddy likes that. No one’s going to take my woman from me, and mark my words, you are mine, you lying little bitch.’

Eileen had sobbed, fervently wishing she had her wand. If he was this upset about not telling her parents about them moving in together, how was he going to react when he found out she was a witch?

All of his eccentricities came flooding back, all the times when she should have listened to her instincts and run the other way, but she’d blown them off. What beckoned her to him, this reckless, exciting, much older man, suddenly frightened her beyond measure.

His low drawl of getting her pregnant finally registered through her tear-stained mind and she shrieked, trying to kick him off even as he pinned his legs over the top of hers.

‘Stop fighting it! You know you love it, filthy little whore, spreading your legs for me the first night I met you. Oh yeah, baby, I’ve been waiting to get you under my thumb. Shit, you have such a tight pussy! Going to fucking come, unh unh unhhhh!’

Then he’d emptied himself inside of her, and to her dismay, kept her locked in the house for three days, forcing himself on her and smacking her around, brainwashing her with lies and turning the whole situation around on her.

At the end of those three, long day, she’d gone home, convinced her parents would always hate her because she’d lied to them as well, and that they would never forgive her.

She’d told them during dinner, after which she was already packed and ready to leave for her new husband’s home. Oh yes, he’d dragged her to a Justice and married them in a quick Muggle civil ceremony with two drunks as witnesses. Oh so romantic.

Her father was apoplectic, unable to comprehend what she was saying. Her mother sobbed, not once going to embrace her daughter, only sobbing disconsolately into her hands.

Thus soiled in her father’s eyes, the resulting row of epic proportions had him striking her for the first time in her life. In that moment, it all came crashing down around her. Everything Tobias had told her was true – she’d made her own bed, and her Father was forcing her to lie in it.

She’d whirled, retrieved her things and left before anyone could follow her.

Eileen’s slow mind crept forward, reliving the days that seemed to blend together into seeming harmony once she’d accepted from Tobias that she wasn’t allowed to contact anyone without his express consent.

To her dismay, he told her she was not allowed to work, because he wanted her home and it was his place to provide for her. Besides, he reminded her, she was going to give him a son.

Eileen didn’t want children yet. A month later he found her performing a contraceptive charm on herself with her wand and demanded to know what she was doing. Unable to explain without lying again, she came clean about her magical heritage and demonstrated some small magicks for him in the bedroom.

If the first time he’d assaulted her was bad, this time he’d made that one look like a picnic in June on a sunny day. He also snapped her wand and burned the books she didn’t have in storage.

It took her a week to recover.

The following month she was pregnant, and once she was, he treated her like so much garbage – property – having lost what little respect he’d claimed to have for her, but not believing in divorce, they’d just have to make the best of things, hadn’t they.

The day the baby was born was one of the darkest of her life. Alone but for a midwife, her son Severus Tobias Snape came into the world squalling and healthy, a set of lungs on him that put trumpets to shame. He was an almost perfect copy of his father except for his hands, long and slender like her own, and his hair, which was baby-fine. His eyes and hair were as pitch as his father’s, and on that tiny little face was the beginning of the great conch of a nose that Eileen had so loved at the start of their romance.

How she hated him. At least, when Tobias was working all the months of her pregnancy she didn’t have to see him. Once the baby was born there was nothing but a constant reminder of the man she hated, this spawn that had been forced on her, staring and crying and puking and shitting for her to clean up after day after day.

How she hated him. And because she hated him, she paid him no mind, never loving or holding him. If it hadn’t been for the midwife’s concern for her health and sneaking trips in to hold the baby, and eventually Tobias' grandmother coming to visit, the boy would have never known any sort of affection.

Even Tobias hated his son. The baby had stolen his mother’s beauty, health and vibrancy with a pregnancy full of stress that had drained her. The magical energy had transferred to the baby when the mother hadn’t nurtured her need to practice it with no access to a wand. He blamed his son for the lack of peace in their home, the failing mental state of his wife, and the demands on his time to work more to feed the brat special formula as Eileen couldn’t breastfeed and little Severus was lactose intolerant, so the shit cost three times as much as the regular stuff.

Yes, it was a good thing grandmother Snape was around, at least for awhile, or Severus would probably have died in his cot of neglect. Eileen would not have cared.

The slamming of the front door heralded the arrival home of her husband and she rose mechanically to move downstairs to greet him and get his dinner. He hit her when she reached the kitchen for not cleaning up the morning’s mess. And so the evening routine began.

Grandmother Snape held the babe in her arms, having come in right behind Tobias, giving him money for Whisky and buying her some time with the lad, taking his father’s mind off the boy for a short while.

“Just you shush now, little man. You’re going to be just fine. Nanny Snape’s got you, shhhh.”

Drying his tears on the bosom of her shirt, baby Severus sucked on the fresh bottle and closed his eyes to finally rest safely for awhile with his great-grandmother. The sound of physical violence was already old hat to him, and it lulled him to sleep.
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Descent