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Deathsong Balladeer	By : TheLadyFeylene Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 3018 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: None of the characters herein belong to me. I am simply borrowing them. I am making no money off of this at all. If I were, would I be posting it on the internet for free?

WARNING: Descriptions of graphic sexual situations, sexual abuse, incest, torture and nonconsensual sex. (Doesn't actually happen in the story, but it's talked about.) This is slash, and is rated NC-17.

Dedication: For Kitten, because you gave me the title, and you encourage me to write this to no end. And for all of you out there who have reviewed this or e-mailed me, assuring me that it is liked. I don't feel like such a sick fuck anymore. :-D

Sympathy For the Devil

How odd, that the day seemed so normal. Snape went through the motions he always did, grading papers, conversing with the rest of the staff, handling a few minor problems, reporting to Dumbledore...that had been difficult, to say the least. The headmaster had wanted to know exactly how Snape knew Harry was strong enough to endure whatever may be done to him, should he fall into Death Eater hands. Snape had done the best he could, never coming out and saying *exactly* what had happened.
"I can assure you, Headmaster, that Mr. Potter has endured the worst of anything that can be done to him. And he is amazingly resilient."
"But Severus, are you certain..."
"Headmaster, please remember...I myself have been put through the same thing. I know what it is like. And Mr. Potter is dealing with it far better then I ever did. If he can survive that intact, he can survive anything."
"If you are sure. Perhaps I should speak to him myself."
"If you so desire. I must say I am amazed. It is no secret I have little regard for the boy, but he has proved my lack of faith wrong."
"My my....this is a surprise indeed. Severus Snape admitting he is wrong...and showing appreciation for Harry Potter! This is a historic event indeed."
"If I am proven wrong, I will readily admit it. And respect is given where respect is due."
Snape didn't know whether or not Dumbledore had spoken to Harry, he only knew that meals had been rather awkward. He would look up, and he would find his eyes falling on the Gryffindor table of their own accord. And he would look on tousled black hair and sparkling green eyes...that didn't seem as sparkling as they had the day before. Harry had *seemed* fine in the morning, making a few light jokes and not mentioning any of the previous nights' events. Snape had looked him over critically, and had given him another healing draught. His wounds should have healed by nightfall, with the aid of the potion. There was a new light in Harry's eyes, a steely fire that would take much to quench.
//Perhaps we are safer then I thought. Harry will not go down easily nor quietly. And if he does fall, he will take as many of those bastards with him when he goes.//
Snape leaned back, long fingers drumming a quick rhythm on the top of his desk. His office was empty, the door open. He was waiting for Draco Malfoy. The boy had been in *another* fight, and Snape knew this time he would have to reprimand the boy. It had been a rather bad fight, with Weasley. The two could hardly be kept from each other's throats. Generally Snape let it go...the boy had enough to deal with. But there had been bloodshed, and that could not be excused.
//It isn't his fault. He only knows what he has been ta. In. In his world, the strong hold dominance over the weak, and they do so with pain. A pity, truly.// Snape sighed, closing his eyes against the headache that was already building behind his eyes. //A draught will fix that up. And perhaps you can coax a massage out of Harry tonight...Damn. He's already integrated himself into your life, and it's hardly been a week. And what proof have you that he's going to come tonight? After what happened...// The Potions masteuddeuddered. He could still see Harry, lying in a pool of his own blood, quivering on the cold stone. The image was there, every time he closed his eyes. And Lucius' voice...
"You wanted to see me, Professor?" The soft drawl made Snape stiffen. He looked up, hands stilling on his desk, fingers curling to scrape nails lightly across the wood.
"Yes Mr. Malfoy. Please sit down."
//My Lord. I am always surprised how much he favors his father...at least after I've recently seen Lucius.// It was startling. Draco was much leaner and far more delicate then his father. Where Lucius' face was hawkish, Draco's was vulpine. High cheekbones, thin cheeks, pointed chin...his svelte body and pale blond hair gave him a strikingly feminine cast that his robust father lacked. His eyes were the same, though. Wide and silver and glinting. They lacked the wildness that Lucius' had acquired, but already there was a spark of cruelness...
"I have a report from Professor McGonagall that you and Mr. Weasley were fighting on the grounds. Apparently you broke his nose, and badly damaged his wrist. Behavior such as this cannot be tolerated, Draco." Snape kept his voice stern, but as friendly as he could possibly manage.
"He started it..."
"I do not care who started it." Snape fought to keep his voice steady. Draco's voice had the potential to be quite beautiful...soothing and musical. If he didn't use it to whine all the time. "Perhaps if you and Mr. Weasley attempted to *speak* about this little feud of yours, instead of simply trying to bludgeon one another, something would be solved. As it stands, however, I am going to have to punish you."
Snape regretted his choice of words as soon as they had left his mouth. Draco's facial _expression and position barely changed, but it was there. His body tightened, knuckles going white on the arm rests. His eyes widened and his lips thinned, and Snape could tell by the way his breathing changed slightly that his heart rate had sped up. //You should have simply said you would be forced to reprimand him. A better phrasing would have been far wiser.//
"A reprimand, I think, will suffice today." Snape said, kindly. "You have no need to fear, Mr. Malfoy. I will keep this incident to myself. Technically, I am required to alert your father. But I see no reason why he has to know of this."
"And why would you want to keep this from my father?" The boy's silver eyes narrowed threateningly, and there was little fear in him now.
"Because I am certain he has other things to deal with right now. An unruly son would most certainly raise his ire, and I am sure neither one of us wish to do that." The Potion master's voice became clipped, and he pulled out a large book and a quill. "If however, you would rather I inform him..."
"No!" The word snapped out of Draco's mouth, and he leaned forward as he spoke. Snape nodded.
"I didn't think so." He looked up, dark eyes meeting light, and he felt tired and useless and regretful. //You should have done more. You should have warned Lucius against treating his boy in such a matter. There's nothing new or all that strange with aristocrats taking pleasure in their own sons, but Lucius' pleasure is nothing of the sort.// But Snape had never stepped between the Malfoys. He knew quite well what Draco was put through...Lucius was all too happy to share. And Snape had experienced much the same...what few cautions he had voiced had obviously gone unheeded.
"But it was his fault..." Draco pouted. Snape sighed, shaking his head. //A waste. He has talent, and intelligence, and more ambition then his father. *He* actually thinks of things other then his own satiation and the immediate future. He could be something truly astounding...//
"I am inclined to believe, Draco, that it was no one's fault. I will be giving you detention. I'm sorry, but I cannot let this go. Even if I had caught you myself, I would have written you up. There is no honor in brawling."
"What does honor have to do with anything?" Draco crossed his arms, sitting back in the chair. He was dressed in a black sweater of some rich, soft looking fabric, and a pair of black jeans. The affect he was most likely hoping to achieve was gothic and alluring. Snape thought he looked rather sickly.
"Much, Draco. A man is defined by his honor. And I do not mean honor like what Gryffindor's stand for. Every man has his own honor. Some more so than others, as I am sure you are aware." Snape laid his arms down on his desk, regarding Draco with darkened eyes. There were things he would never learn from his father, and it was best he learned them somewhere. "If you ever kill a man, Draco, make sure you do it with your own hands. Do not hide behind a wand. Look into their eyes and do not look away, because if you cannot, perhaps they do not deserve to die after all. If you must fight, do so properly. Do not attack your opponent from behind, and do not exploit their weaknesses. And never allow yourself to be broken."
"What are you talking about?" Draco was eyeing his professor suspiciously. //What *are* you doing?// He was forced to ask himself. //If you're trying to save the boy's soul, you're too late. How long has he been subjected to this? Four years, five? But there may be hope yet...if he is offered a lifeline, he may well take it. And if he does not, at least your guilty conscience will be appeased.//
"Your father, Draco. I am well aware he can be...overbearing."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Snape grimaced at the shrill tone in Draco's voice. It was an awful sound, really.
"You do not need to play the innocent in front of me, Draco." Snape said softly. "I am well aware of what goes on in your household."
"Excuse me?" Icy cold, and dead. //You are pushing things, Severus. You are in deep enough as it is. Your relationship with Harry, your position under Dumbledore...why do this? Leave it alone...// But something pushed him on. Perhaps he had simply reached a point where he didn't care anymore. Or perhaps he had reached a point where he had begun to care...
"Draco, I doubt you truly wish me to go into detail. Let us just say...I do not agree with what your father sees fit to do to you." Apparently, Draco understood what Snape meant completely.
"You don't know what you're talking about!" The pale haired boy rose out of his chair, hectic pink circles appearing on his cheeks. "How dare you even *insinuate*! Nothing goes on in my home that shouldn't. My father is twice the man you'll ever be, and you can be sure he'll hear what you're saying about him! He can ruin you. He has that power, and you know it! Telling me lies about him....where'd you get that sort of idea, anyway?"
This wasn't going well. Obviously Draco thought his father's attentions were some sort of secret. Somehow, that made the entire situation even worse. //Best he learns the true way of things now.// His eyes closed slowly, before locking on Draco's. His voice was soft and low, and a hint of sadness crept into it. "From your father's graphic descriptions, Draco."
All color drained from the boy's face. It was as if a cloud had passed over him, for he went ashen and sickly. Gone in an instant was the haughty defiance, the snide self confidence, the arrogance. he he was simply an abused young man, hardly more than a boy. But-to his credit-he regained his composure rather quickly. He was shaking, slightly, but he narrowed his eyes, lips pressed into a thin line.
"You are his lover, then."
"If that's what you want to call it." Snape shrugged, inwardly applauding the boy's steel resolve and desire to have the upper hand in the situation. Obviously his accusation had been meant to throw Snape off balance. But there was little now that could upset his balance. "I assure you, he has little more care with me then he does with you."

I doI doubt that." Draco hissed. Snape swore he saw hatred smoldering in his eyes...hatred towards him, or towards his father? "I doubt that very much...when was the last time you spoke with my father?"
"On...this particular subject? Last year, I believe." //He could be something great. His nerve and resilience rivals Harry's. It's simply a matter of circumstance, that has made him what he is. And he has tasted the death collar as I did.//
"Then you don't know. He's gotten far more...creative. He has this thing...it's like a hairbrush, it's flat with a handle, but on the paddle part there's shards of glass. And he doesn't keep his knife sharp anymore. Says it works better dull, at least for his purposes."
Snape expected Draco's voice to be livid, angry, loud...but it was flat. He may as well have been talking about his grade, or the weather. But his eyes...they betrayed what he was feeling. Bright and smoldering.
"It's gotten rusty, too. I hardly even feel it anymore, though. That only makes him try harder. He says he likes to hear me scream. I can't scream anymore. I've tried, too. I thought he was going to kill me, last time. He used that thing on me, the collar thing. But not like he used to. He did it so it hurt, badly. It didn't feel good at all. It felt like I was being ripped open, on the inside. Like....like something was trying to claw its way out. And it burned. Then he used his rod on me....it's long and thick and it has these sharp metal bits on it...he can do a lot with that one. He...he used it on me. Beat me with it, hit me with it. Then he put it inside of me. I thought maybe he'd cut something important, because it just kept bleeding. I think I even asked him to stop, because there was so much blood. He told me everything was okay, and that I'd be fine. Then he took me anyway." Draco shrugged, and he had gone very still. Snape had remained impassive through the entire story, nodding now and again. //If there was ever a doubt in your mind that Lucius Malfoy is a monster, it is gone now. Last night....Harry is the son of one of Lucius' worst enemies. But his own son...//
"Your father should not have a death collar." Snape finally said, when he trusted himself to speak. He wondered why everything fell to him. //You've destroyed enough lives in your time. Saving a handful will do little to absolve you, but it will perhaps ease things some.//
"That's what that thing is?"
"Yes. He got it when we were in school. He nearly killed me with it." Snape pulled his collar away from his throat to display the scars. "By my own hand, of course, but in response to the collar."
"How old were you? When he used it on you?"
"Seventeen, I think. Perhaps sixteen." Snape shrugged, sitting back in his chair. "But I was his lover long before he discovered it. He was far more old fashioned back then, it seems. A knife, his nails, teeth...sometimes a switch. I remember once he made rather clever use of a tea kettle, but that was the extent of his creativity."
"Why did you let him do it?"
"Why do you?" Snape countered.
"Because he's my father. It's his right."
That wasn't the answer the Potions master had expected. It had been more along the lines of 'He's my father. I love him.' Snape had loved Lucius, once. Or thought he did. After so much time and so many changes, it was now hard to tell. //Who can love the devil?//
"Well, I suppose I allowed it for similar reasons. He had a...an appeal about him. It was captivating. I allowed him because of that. He was, in my eyes, a god. I do not see him as such anymore, though, I can assure you." Snape folded his hands. "You are strong, Draco. In truth, I have seen few stronger." //Harry is stronger. Draco has endured for years. Harry was practically an innocent. I doubt, young Master Malfoy, your father was that rough with you your first time. Oh, I'm sure it was painful. I *know* it was painful. But it wasn't like that.// "And you are wise. It would go worse, were you to stand up to him. I am sorry there is nothing I can do for you, but interference on my part would only cause more problems."
"You don't need to do anything, I can take care of myself." Draco said. "I've taken care of myself for five years. Now can we please arrange my detention and let me go? And remember I have a funeral to go to in a few days."
That was right. Lucius' entire reason for visiting had been to inform Draco of his grandmother's death. And obviously he had not raised a hand to the boy...apparently he would have rather had Snape.
"Of course. You will serve your detention tomorrow, after dinner, with me. You may return to your dorm." Snape made a note in his book, and nodded to Draco. "And rest assured, I will keep the content of this little meeting between us."
"You'd better." Draco rose, tossing his head and shoving his hands in his pockets. He seemed angry, but that was understandable. He was almost out the door, when something occurred to Snape.
"Draco!" The boy paused, hand on the door.
"What?"
"How did you know...about your father and I?"
"Oh. Because sometimes when he rapes me, he says your name."
***
The meeting with Draco had gone on longer then Snape had wanted. It was late, and he wanted a drink very badly. It seemed he craved a drink more and more these days. //They're going to turn me into a lush. Harry, Dumbledore, the Malfoys...all of them. They're driving me to drink!// He was livid. And appalled. Draco's parting words had shocked and disgusted him. //Calls my name....dear lord. And Draco sees me everyday...he's never given any hint...//
His heels made loud sounds on the stone floor as he briskly made his way to his private rooms. A moment of panic flared over him, when he saw his door partially open. Someone had been in his rooms....he half expected to walk in and find Lucius there. But instead, Harry Potter was sitting on his bed, knees tucked up under his chin. Snape let out a soft sigh of relief, and sank into his chair by the fire.
"I was in a meeting." he said, by way of explanation. "I needed to speak with Mr. Malfoy. The younger, of course."
"Him and Ron were fighting today." Harry said.
"Yes. I gave him detention for it. Broke Weasley's nose, from what I hear."
"You gave him detention?" There was a note of shock in Harry's voice.
"Of course I gave him detention. I am easy on him yes, but I do not allow him to run wild. I have some hope for him growing into a decent human being." He lifted the bottle of brandy on the table beside the chair, and took a long sip. The warm liquid felt good in his throat, and he closed his eyes, relaxing into the back of the chair.
"is he okay?"
"Malfoy? He's fine. What about you. How are you feeling today?" Snape opened his eyes and craned his neck around to look at Harry, who was still sitting on the bed. He could see from here that the cuts on his face were now gone.
"Fine." Harry said, simply. Snape nodded. He closed his eyes again, and didn't open them until he felt the presence of someone very close. He opened them in time to see Harry climbing into his lap, and settling in there comfortably. //You are an old fool. Push him away. He's James' son, for the love of God!// But Snape did not push Harry away. As the boy laid his head against his chest, Snape's arms went around him to rest on his back. He felt there, running a hand along the slim back, feeling for any remaining damage. Harry made no move of protest, no hint of pain.
"Good." Snape closed his eyes yet again, tilting his head back. He was grateful for Harry's presence, but had little desire to speak. but it seemed neither did Harry, who simply sat curled in his professor's lap. It was comfortable, and Snape allowed his mind to wander. He thought perhaps he fell asleep, because he was suddenly aware of Harry speaking.
"...got them during Quidditch practice."
"Hmmm." Snape said, nodding absently. What had the boy been talking about? Quidditch practice?
"Ron believed me, I think. I'm always getting beat up during practice. He told me to go see Madame Pomfrey, to get it fixed. When he sees me tomorrow, he'll think I did."
"Ah." //Talking about how he got hurt, I suppose.//
"Are you okay?"
"Fine, Harry. Simply tired. It has been a long week."
"It has." Harry snuggled closer, his small form trembling slightly. Snape stroked his hair, long fingers snaking through the soft tresses. He lowered his lips to press against the top of Harry's head, gently and fleetingly.
"You know you shouldn't be here." He said, softly.
"Why not?" Harry asked.
"Because. I am your professor. Not to mention I am old enough to be your father."
"So?"
"So...this is illegal and immoral and a myriad of other things." Snape snapped, feeling his headache begin to come back.
�Not really...� Harry's voice as soft.
�Yes, Harry. And we both know so. This is not how things were supposed to be. This is not how they should be. You are still young, you have an excuse. I am far more experienced. I should not allow this to continue.�
"But you're not pushing me away."
"No. I'm not. but I am known for making bad decisions."
"So'm I." Harry responded. "Can we talk about something else, please?" There was genuine regret in Harry's voice, with a touch of pleading. Snape smiled softly, nodding. //He wants to be here. After all that has come to pass, he wishes to be here with me. How odd. And odder still, you want him here. You know hrongrong it is. You've damned your soul for good, accepting him in your life like this. But truly...there are few else who could understand him, now. Few who would know how to touch him, how to speak to him...//
"Perhaps we can not talk all together, hmm? I am getting a headache." Snape leaned back again, the comforting weight of Harry warm on his legs and chest. He let his fingers stroke the boy's back lightly, running easily along his spine through his thin sweater. Neither one made any move to get up, and eventually they fell asleep there in front of the fire.
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Deathsong Balladeer