Games

A/N: Ok, this is a little like the Tulip Touch, which is a fantastic but very sinister book by Anne Fine. If you haven't read it, do. But it's a wonderful book. I've always wanted to play with the relationship between Snape and Malfoy and now is my chance!

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.

*****

Even before the days when Voldemort terrorised whole nations with his massacres, they stood. While He Who Must Not Be Named cursed countless civilians and his underlings subtly eliminated openly declared rebels who formed hasty peace with their enemies to try and destroy the Dark Lord, a far more dangerous, a smoother, slower and infinitely more fatal threat, a deadly alliance, existed. An evil bond of love and hate, of torture and half-truths, marred by pain and grief and torment and saved only by a spark of mercy and forgiveness at the end of each twisted game.

Snape and Malfoy. Malfoy and Snape. Always together. Forever friends, eternally enemies.

It had started perfectly harmlessly. A chance meeting in a tavern in 1884, exchanging of greetings, opinions, suggestions. Tentative touching of legs, arms, final reckless interlacing of fingers, a wary but passionate night spent in wild lust … casual friendship extended beyond manly affection into a terrible association.

Their connection would be worse than all of Voldemort's campaigns put together. Together they would cause more heartbreak, deal out more pain, cause more grief and anger. More souls would be eaten out.

And the heirs would continue.

Severus and Lucius were the worst, the malevolent threat, lurking, smiling, in the shade. Weaving their dangerous games and spiteful tricks among both friends and enemies, giving not a care for their hurt and betrayal.

Severus and Lucius.

*****

They knew each other before conscious thought, they looked into each other's eyes in the cradle, and something passed between them. An unspoken bond, a knowledge of terrible deeds to be done.

Mothers weeping at their horrible children who could bend them to their will, get anything they wanted, toys sweets, love. Fathers talking together, arms around shoulders just a little more intimate, dissolute, unhidden desire in those eyes. Proud of their sons who could manipulate anyone and anything.

Friendship continued past infanthood, past fair and soft and innocent reaching out into the world, into Hogwarts, for there would they make their ultimate conquest …

And together they wreaked their quiet evil chaos, fencing with the Marauders, with Lily Evans, with Narcissa le Fay in the year below. For they had an advantage that no one could see or hear or touch, and that was evil. Evil itself was on their side, delighting, approving, encouraging them and their horrific games. And they enjoyed what they did. There was nothing they could not change to suit them, nothing they could not do. The danger of their smiles lay in the half-truths they told to each other, to their friends, their enemies.

The girls who knew them hated them, feared them but was somehow drawn to them by a kind of sick fascination, for when they wanted to please they could be hot, they could be charming and everything sweet and smooth. 'Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't,' and they were, true serpents of Slytherin, driving liking to the name of love without any intention but that of crashing it, propelling it down like a sunken plane piloted by an insane murderer.

Casual reversion to gentleman-like habits, the kissing of Lily Evans' hand as she passed with her books clasped to her innocent fair bosom. Golden-brown fiery hair cascading down the young straight back, a confused smile, a few words said without thought and Lily was driven straight to infatuation, following the two without scruples.

For they were the same, Severus and Lucius, Lucius and Severus, they were the same and one. Anyone who loved one loved the other, and they shared the love, engaging in fantasy games, transporting the feminine beauties to places unknown, a place of terrible addiction, of love and hate, of inner torment, slashing mercilessly at the flanks until the girls were beaten, crushed, reduced to ashes by the power and deadly accuracy. Psychological torture, that silent taunting the two boys shared in was bittersweet, ecstatic until that final moment of defeat when all seemed lost, and suicide … inevitable.

*****

A/N: Ok, if you want me to continue please tell me because I have a lot more, my imagination will not stop for quite some time! The next chapter will be up when I have liberty to fumble with it like the helpless child I am.