Chapter 6 -- Her Eyes, So Innocent
Dec. 6th, 2006 09:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
teleidoplexTitle: The Devil's Due
Rating: NC17 (eventually)
Fandom: Harry Potter/Crow Crossover
Summary: Six months after Voldemort's victory and the Fall of Harry Potter, an angry spirit rises from the grave to wreak bloody vengeance.
Spoilers: HBP and the Crow mythology
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the mythology. Just my sick imagination.
Archive: At Twisting the Hellmouth. If you want it, check with me first.
A/N: Many thanks to my betas, Selenya and Bneuensc. Thanks also to Selenya, who helped me conceive this bunny. On the night before her wedding, no less. Let’s hear it for dedicated Goff Grrls!
Chapter 6 – Her Eyes, So Innocent
Snape could smell the blood from the moment she entered the house. It mixed with the smell of rain on wool, and other scents…darker and more foul. Scents he’d encountered before, but never thought to associate with her. He stepped into the hallway as she began treading up the stairs, ready to confront her over what he had found at Nott’s mansion, but the sight of her was like a punch in the gut.
She was covered in viscera, drying to a sticky mass and smelling at this close range like the worst of charnel houses. Blood covered the lower half of her face, and in her hand she carried a vicious-looking silver blade with barbs along the back edge. Like her, it was sticky with blood. She paused on the stairway, regarding him over the banister. A flash of something that might have been remorse or guilt crossed her features, but it was quickly concealed. It was enough to let him compose himself. Whatever she had done, she was conscious of the awfulness of it. Whatever had brought her back, there was still some remnant of the Gryffindor he had known.
“Lily,” he paused, letting the silence hang until he could compose himself. It was too easy. He had become too accustomed to things like this. Horror was a part of his everyday existence. He gestured at her robes…his robes, “That didn’t come from Nott.”
“Hmm?” she had looked away and was turning the blade over and over in her hand. She looked up at him again, “No. Avery. But he was almost as useless. He had no idea what the final horcrux was or where to find it. Though at least now I know where Voldemort will be tonight, assuming nobody warns him,” she began to walk upstairs again. He rounded the newel post and grabbed at her arm, spinning her to face him. She only had to tilt her head up a little to meet his eyes. Two risers above him, and their faces were almost level.
“What did you do?”
“I killed him, Severus. Why are you asking inane questions, when you already know the answers. I killed him. With his own knives. Just like he killed all the others. Like he was going to kill me, and that poor girl he held captive.”
“Did you kill Nott, too?” She just cocked her head and regarded him with a look chillingly similar to the one he used on his first years. The long-suffering look of one constantly confronted with stupidity. The question ‘why’ died on his lips. His shoulders sagged slightly, although whether in resignation or relief he couldn’t say. He had worried that she wouldn’t return, but now he knew why she had, “Vengeance. That’s why you’re here. And now you’re going to kill me.”
“No, I’m not,” the edge to her voice made her words anything but reassuring, “I’m going to kill you last. You’re still useful to me. You know where to find them, you’ll know how to draw them out. You’ll help me, Severus, because of your guilt. And you’ll let me kill you last, because you want an end to all this.”
Everything she said was true, but to hear her speak it, to hear the callous words from her, appalled him. He wanted to deny it, wanted to drone some self-assured reply that would rip apart her own assumptions, but he couldn’t. The end was in sight, and it would be by her hand. There was a part of him that was darkly amused by the poetry of it, but a greater part of him was troubled
“What happened to you, Lily?” he whispered, “What terrible force called you here and turned you into this…”
“Monster? But you know what happened, Severus. We’re not so different anymore. You’re nothing like the Severus I knew in the past. You’ve become more…subtle in your cunning. You’ve become so accustomed to deceiving people that I don’t believe even you know what side you’re fighting for anymore. And I,” she looked down at the knife still in her hands. They began to tremble slightly.
“ ‘Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster…’, ” he murmured, realizing that he knew all too well what had brought about these changes in her.
“ ‘And if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you’, ” she finished for him. She laid her hand gently along his cheek, and the soft smile that lit her eyes was sad and knowing, “I may have become a monster, but I’m not mad, at least, no more than you are. I’m doing what needs to be done, what I’ve been called to do. After I’m done, I can rest. I can return to my family, and be at peace. Will you help me? Will you help me find my rest?”
“You know I will.”
“Because you feel guilty”
He remained silent, unwilling to play this particular game of question and answer.
“Severus?” she prompted.
“You know why,” his answer was sullen, begrudging. He suddenly felt awkward and seventeen.
“Yes. I do,” she lowered her hand and he closed his eyes against the pity in her gaze. He heard her turn and begin to mount the stairs, “I’m going to wash, and change, and maybe sleep. You should do the same.”
Her final words stayed with him long after she closed the door to her room,
We’re going to have a busy night
---------------------
Note: The quote is aphorism 146 from Nietzsche's _Beyond Good and Evil_. There are many translations, I picked the one that I felt had the most poetic flow (you can find some really clunky and unwieldly doozies out there.)
Rating: NC17 (eventually)
Fandom: Harry Potter/Crow Crossover
Summary: Six months after Voldemort's victory and the Fall of Harry Potter, an angry spirit rises from the grave to wreak bloody vengeance.
Spoilers: HBP and the Crow mythology
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the mythology. Just my sick imagination.
Archive: At Twisting the Hellmouth. If you want it, check with me first.
A/N: Many thanks to my betas, Selenya and Bneuensc. Thanks also to Selenya, who helped me conceive this bunny. On the night before her wedding, no less. Let’s hear it for dedicated Goff Grrls!
Chapter 6 – Her Eyes, So Innocent
Snape could smell the blood from the moment she entered the house. It mixed with the smell of rain on wool, and other scents…darker and more foul. Scents he’d encountered before, but never thought to associate with her. He stepped into the hallway as she began treading up the stairs, ready to confront her over what he had found at Nott’s mansion, but the sight of her was like a punch in the gut.
She was covered in viscera, drying to a sticky mass and smelling at this close range like the worst of charnel houses. Blood covered the lower half of her face, and in her hand she carried a vicious-looking silver blade with barbs along the back edge. Like her, it was sticky with blood. She paused on the stairway, regarding him over the banister. A flash of something that might have been remorse or guilt crossed her features, but it was quickly concealed. It was enough to let him compose himself. Whatever she had done, she was conscious of the awfulness of it. Whatever had brought her back, there was still some remnant of the Gryffindor he had known.
“Lily,” he paused, letting the silence hang until he could compose himself. It was too easy. He had become too accustomed to things like this. Horror was a part of his everyday existence. He gestured at her robes…his robes, “That didn’t come from Nott.”
“Hmm?” she had looked away and was turning the blade over and over in her hand. She looked up at him again, “No. Avery. But he was almost as useless. He had no idea what the final horcrux was or where to find it. Though at least now I know where Voldemort will be tonight, assuming nobody warns him,” she began to walk upstairs again. He rounded the newel post and grabbed at her arm, spinning her to face him. She only had to tilt her head up a little to meet his eyes. Two risers above him, and their faces were almost level.
“What did you do?”
“I killed him, Severus. Why are you asking inane questions, when you already know the answers. I killed him. With his own knives. Just like he killed all the others. Like he was going to kill me, and that poor girl he held captive.”
“Did you kill Nott, too?” She just cocked her head and regarded him with a look chillingly similar to the one he used on his first years. The long-suffering look of one constantly confronted with stupidity. The question ‘why’ died on his lips. His shoulders sagged slightly, although whether in resignation or relief he couldn’t say. He had worried that she wouldn’t return, but now he knew why she had, “Vengeance. That’s why you’re here. And now you’re going to kill me.”
“No, I’m not,” the edge to her voice made her words anything but reassuring, “I’m going to kill you last. You’re still useful to me. You know where to find them, you’ll know how to draw them out. You’ll help me, Severus, because of your guilt. And you’ll let me kill you last, because you want an end to all this.”
Everything she said was true, but to hear her speak it, to hear the callous words from her, appalled him. He wanted to deny it, wanted to drone some self-assured reply that would rip apart her own assumptions, but he couldn’t. The end was in sight, and it would be by her hand. There was a part of him that was darkly amused by the poetry of it, but a greater part of him was troubled
“What happened to you, Lily?” he whispered, “What terrible force called you here and turned you into this…”
“Monster? But you know what happened, Severus. We’re not so different anymore. You’re nothing like the Severus I knew in the past. You’ve become more…subtle in your cunning. You’ve become so accustomed to deceiving people that I don’t believe even you know what side you’re fighting for anymore. And I,” she looked down at the knife still in her hands. They began to tremble slightly.
“ ‘Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster…’, ” he murmured, realizing that he knew all too well what had brought about these changes in her.
“ ‘And if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes into you’, ” she finished for him. She laid her hand gently along his cheek, and the soft smile that lit her eyes was sad and knowing, “I may have become a monster, but I’m not mad, at least, no more than you are. I’m doing what needs to be done, what I’ve been called to do. After I’m done, I can rest. I can return to my family, and be at peace. Will you help me? Will you help me find my rest?”
“You know I will.”
“Because you feel guilty”
He remained silent, unwilling to play this particular game of question and answer.
“Severus?” she prompted.
“You know why,” his answer was sullen, begrudging. He suddenly felt awkward and seventeen.
“Yes. I do,” she lowered her hand and he closed his eyes against the pity in her gaze. He heard her turn and begin to mount the stairs, “I’m going to wash, and change, and maybe sleep. You should do the same.”
Her final words stayed with him long after she closed the door to her room,
We’re going to have a busy night
---------------------
Note: The quote is aphorism 146 from Nietzsche's _Beyond Good and Evil_. There are many translations, I picked the one that I felt had the most poetic flow (you can find some really clunky and unwieldly doozies out there.)
