The Broken - Chapter Two - The Musician
Chapter Two -The Musician
Severus stared across the bed at the wall. It was hard to pretend it wasn't happening when it was, but he was used to it by now. It was easy for him to close his eyes and let the music in his head envelop him. Rede moved above him, his body rocking into Severus's and slamming him into the bed over and over. The man cared nothing for Severus's own pleasure or pain and pushed into him fast and hard.
Severus closed his eyes, the flowers in the wallpaper the last thing he saw before he was surrounded by darkness. A whisper of a song drifted past and he grasped it, drowning himself in Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The lonely introduction pulled him away from the bedroom and into a peaceful world far removed from his own.
He remained into that world until a familiar grunt told him Rede had just finished. Severus was yanked back to the real world when Rede collapsed on top of him. The man tried to bury his nose in Severus's hair and then stopped.
"Snape, your hair is disgusting! What is in it?"
Severus had covered the dark strands in animal fat the cook Molly Weasley had given him, but he didn't dare tell Rede that. "'Tis nothing, master. I haven't washed it in a few days, is all." Not washing it had been purposeful, an attempt to keep the man from holding Severus close after he'd used him. Severus could escape into his music during the act itself, but the moments spent in the man's arms when he was being gentle were the worst ones. When he was younger Rede had forcibly brought him off as well, but thankfully, the man no longer bothered with that.
"Well, wash it tonight. You're going to the Shrieking estate in a few days, and I don't want him sending you back because you are unclean. I'm getting too much out of this deal." Rede rolled out of the bed, grunting when his feet hit the floor. "You'd better start packing."
This was the first time Severus had heard anything about leaving the manor. "Master, why I'm being sent there?" He sat up gingerly and found the pain was less than normal. He sighed and rose to his feet, dragging his clothes back on over his sore body.
"Lord Shrieking has decided that he wants you to play for him this season and is trading me his own estate musician in return." Rede was wearing his dressing gown when Severus turned around to him. "And fix your damn hair. You know better than to leave here looking like that."
Severus nodded and smoothed down his slimy hair, grimacing inwardly at the feel of it. "Yes, master."
Rede waved his hand toward the door. "Go on then. I'm done with you. Get packed quickly-you are returning to Shrieking's estate on the carriage that's dropping off his man tomorrow."
Severus bowed deeply and exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. As soon as it was shut he messed his hair up. Let the man be caught. Death was not the worst thing that could happen to Severus, and it would only serve Rede right.
He walked sedately to his room in the servants’ wing, nodding at George Weasley as he passed him. The young man smiled at him, but it was a broken grimace more than anything. He'd never gotten over the death of his brother.
Once he had reached his room, Severus stripped off his clothing and stepped into the tub of warm water waiting for him, probably by Mrs. Weasley. Molly was a good woman who cared too much for her own well-being. It was a wonder she wasn't dead along with her boy.
He luxuriated in the water, using the bar of soap on his nightstand to wash out the grease. He was glad it had worked to keep Rede away, but he wouldn't be able to do it often. Thankfully, he would have an entire ball season before he would have to submit himself to the man again.
It was idiotic to dream of things that could never be, but Severus found himself imagining the estate of Lord Shrieking. He hadn't been off Rede's land in years, so he had no idea what the nearby estate would look like. One of Molly's children, her only girl, worked in the manor house over there. The girl had visited a few times since her move and seemed pleased with the master of the house. Molly was just grateful that her daughter was out of Rede's reach. Molly had squealed loudly when her daughter brought home the news that she'd gotten the job and kissed everyone in the kitchen, which had unfortunately included Severus. Still, he couldn't fault her. If he had a chance to escape, he would take it.
Perhaps this would be his chance. Even if his escape would only last for a few months, it would be nice to be free of the expectations to join his master in bed. Lord Shrieking was a quiet Baron whom Severus had heard little of, so he had no idea what to expect of the man. Even if he required Severus to play every day it wouldn't matter-Severus would do most anything to play anyway. Music was his escape.
The water was growing cold, and Severus was growing tired. He hoisted himself out of the tub, shivering in the cold room. April was still a bit chilly, especially at night, but Rede refused to let the servants have fires past the end of February. Severus pulled on some long underwear and then his clothing, so that he could take the tub outside to dump it.
Percy Weasley was about to enter his room across the hall from Severus's just as he exited. "Can I help you with that?" he asked.
Severus's arms were already aching and his body was feeling the pain of Rede's rough treatment. "Thank you," he said. Taking the help of someone was wounding to his pride, but he didn't want to hurt himself or spill the water.
Percy grasped one of the handles on the tin tub, holding it steady while Severus grasped the other. "I overheard Rede speaking with Lord Shrieking earlier. You'll be going to the Lord's manor for the rest of the season." He shot a glance at Severus over the dirty water. "Did you know?"
Severus nodded stiffly. "The master told me a little while ago."
Percy looked away. "Is it wrong of me to wish you weren't going?"
With Severus gone, the person Rede would call to his bed would probably be Percy. "It's not wrong. It's human, I suppose."
They reached the door to the outside and Percy manoeuvred it open. They poured out the water into a flowerbed in silence and were back inside of the manor before Percy spoke. "I don’t want him to call for me, but I hate to wish it on another person. He hasn't tried to touch George, not since Fred... not since Fred. Bill and Charlie are gone now. It'd likely be Ron he calls, and I'd rather face it myself than let him touch my baby brother."
Severus shrugged. "He's not much of a baby at sixteen. Rede's taken them much younger than that before."
Percy snarled. "Shut up! I won't... I won't let him have Ron, not if I have to ship him to America to keep him safe. Even starving in Ireland would be better than being in that monster's bed!"
A ragged laugh escaped Severus's lips. He was glad he wasn't the only one who thought death would be better than life in this house.
Percy whirled towards him. "How can you think that's funny?" he asked.
"It's not, and that's the funny part." Severus opened his door. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Weasley. Sleep well."
Percy snorted and opened his own door. "As if I could sleep well when he might call for me at any minute." His door slammed shut before Severus could answer, not that there was any real answer for something like that.
Severus stepped inside of his room and shut the door firmly behind him. There was no lock on the door; Rede did not allow them. He stripped off his clothing, but left his long underwear on, and slipped on a nightshirt. Lighting a candle, he set it next to his music stand and removed his violin from its case. Ever since he was little, Severus had played a song before bed, just as his mother had. His lullabies had been played on the very instrument he held. He smoothed his hand over the neck and plucked a few strings. The D string was a little loose, so he twisted its peg to tighten it and bring the instrument into tune. Once that was done, he shuffled through his sheet music and pulled out Mozart's Violin Sonata No. 21. The music was well worn and Severus didn't actually need it, but the feel of it in his hands brought back memories of his mother attempting to teach him to read the notes on the staff.
He placed the music on the stand and settled the violin under his chin. The groove fit him perfectly, a testament to how often the instrument was used. He ran the bow across the strings a few times, making sure the instrument was in proper condition, and then he launched into the song with a vengeance.
That had been the song his mother played when she was angry and did not want others to know. He could remember her playing it on the nights when his father did not come home from the pub or during the days they spent huddled in a small inn, playing for food and shelter in the inn's barn. The money listeners paid them always went to his father's drinks, never to a warm bed inside the inn itself, but the innkeepers were sometimes kind enough to offer them a place by the fire in the kitchen instead of in the hay with the animals.
He let his anger flow through the strings. It was a sad piece, and not an angry one, and that was what made it perfect. His mother had hidden her rage in the bittersweet notes, and Severus hid his fury in them too. He knew the others in this wing of the manor could hear the song. They would think him broken and bitter, but he wasn't. He could care less what they thought. He was strong and his mother's memory strengthened him further.
The bow continued to dance over the strings, Severus's anger pushing it along. He could feel the music begin to speed up as his thoughts grew more enraged, but he slowed his breathing and the bow. Towards the end of the song, he let his bow grow slower and slower until the last note rang across the room. As it faded away, so too did his rage.
He sighed and returned the violin and the music to their places. He supposed it was rather rude to play the instrument so late at night, as it was not known for its softness, but no one had ever complained, so he continued. Perhaps they enjoyed the music, perhaps they hated the noise, Severus might never know.
Standing and stretching, Severus remembered Rede's admonishment to pack up that night. He looked around the room. Aside from his clothing and violin, there wasn't much to take. His mother's shawl and his father's family bible were all that were left of his memories.
He crawled into bed, determining that he would pack in the morning.
~*~
Severus stepped out of the carriage and was directed to the front door by the driver, a mere child.
"You're to report to Mrs. Longbottom in the kitchen, sir. Hurry or she'll snap your head off and serve it for supper!" The boy chortled so hard his cap fell off the messy black hair it rested on. "I'm kidding, of course."
Severus glared at him. "I'd assumed."
The boy rolled his eyes and snapped the reigns. Severus supposed he had meant to mutter "greasy git" under his breath, but it came out loud and clear. He struggled to remember what the boy had introduced himself as. First name evading him, Severus snapped, "I heard that, Mr. Potter!"
The boy's peals of laughter filled the air, and Severus stomped off toward the main building. The door to the kitchen was easy to find-it was propped wide open and the smell of a stew floated through the air. The woman he assumed to be Mrs. Longbottom stood before the stove, stirring the stew with a long wooden spoon.
"Good day, ma'am," he greeted her, carefully laying his things far away from the splattering stove.
She looked him up and down, her sharp nose one to rival his own. "You're the violinist then?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Very well. You are to report to the east wing, second floor, third door from the end on the left." She pointed towards a door on the opposite side of the kitchen. "Well, off you go!"
Severus stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head disbelievingly. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but could you repeat your directions?"
She snorted. "Aye, and the master'd said you were a smart one. Neville!"
Severus wasn't sure what a neville was, but she looked around as though expecting it to show up.
"Neville!" she shouted again, quite loudly. Moments later a clatter sounded in the next room. "You better not have broken that, boy!"
A rotund young man entered the room, his cheeks flushed red. "Sorry, Gran. I knocked over the silver again."
The cook huffed. "Then you can be the one to shine it next."
The boy, whose name was evidently Neville, nodded. "Yes, Gran."
"Now then, this is the violinist Lord Shrieking said he'd hired. You're to take him up to the room Draco usually keeps."
Neville cocked his head. "He's not to sleep in the servants wing?"
Mrs. Longbottom pulled her spoon from the stew and pointed it at Neville. "What have I told you about questioning the master?"
Neville's eyes grew round. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. I'll do it right now, ma'am." He grabbed Severus's bag before he could protest and almost snatched up the violin case too, but Severus picked it up before he could. "Follow me, please, sir!"
They passed through a small dining room, which had silverware all over the floor, and into a hallway. They walked up what appeared to be a back staircase. Neville jabbered nervously as they went.
"These here are the old master and mistress's rooms, though they aren't being used right now. Our current master is still in mourning, my Gran says, and so he sleeps down this hall here. His rooms are here at the very end of the hall, and your room is right next to his." Neville stopped before a door next to a rather scandalous painting of a group of half naked water nymphs. "This is usually Draco's room because he's the lord's manservant. While he's away, I'm to take over his duties. I'm not sure why the lord gave you these rooms, but, um, Draco tends to be a bit messy, so his stuff is likely to be all over the place. My job is normally to help my wife clean the rooms in the manor, and I tend to Draco's for him, but I haven't been in yet today." He pushed the door open to betray a sumptuous interior.
Severus glanced between the boy and the room for a moment, his mind reeling. He was being given a nicer room than even Rede's rooms were. The pathetic boy next to him actually had a wife. The master was sleeping but a room from his. This place seemed odder by the second.
"Is there else anything I need to know?" he barked at the boy.
He jumped to attention. "N-No, sir!"
"Then will you take me to Lord Shrieking? I'd like to make his acquaintance."
Neville shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. The lord is away right now."
Severus frowned. "When will he return?"
"Within three days," said Neville.
Severus's frown deepened. "Very well. I will... spend the time practicing, unless he has left me instructions."
"No, sir. All he said is that we are to welcome you and show you about the estate."
How could he not have left directions? Even when Rede didn't have Severus playing he had him practicing or working around the manor with the rest of the servants. "Very well. What time will dinner be served?"
"Half past six, sir." Neville paused and added. "We take it in the small dining room."
Severus blinked rapidly. Servants eating outside of the kitchen? The master of this house was strange indeed. Severus couldn't decide whether he wanted to meet the man or not. Sometimes different was good... and sometimes it was very, very bad.
He waved his hand as the boy, then realised he was echoing Rede's motions to him and stopped. "I'll be down for dinner then," he said softly.
The boy bowed quickly, startling Severus, and then rushed off. Severus watched until he rounded the corner and then entered his room. There was actual carpet on the floor, not merely a small rug but wall-to-wall carpeting, and at least three pillows on the bed, which was twice the size of his own. Testing the pillows, he found they were stuffed with goose down.
The room itself wasn't as messy as Neville had made it out to be. There were a few items on the nightstand and the door of the wardrobe stood open, but Severus tidied it up quickly and placed his own things in an empty drawer in the dresser. Peeking through the other man's things, he found silk garments and a velvet robe. He sank onto the edge of the bed. If the things had belonged to a woman, he would have assumed he had been taken to the mistress of the house's bedroom on accident. As it was, he wasn't sure what was going on.
A manservant shouldn't be able to afford such items. A simple violinist should not be given such a nice bedroom. The help shouldn't have referred to him as sir. The master of the house should have had something for him to do.
Severus was in a topsy-turvy dream world... but he wasn't dreaming.
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