The Vow
Narcissa took him to the manor library. It was not the library that Severus wanted, but he bit his tongue. What had he expected, her to sidealong him to Carrickfergus right then?
“Before I show you this, you must promise me something,” she said, her back to him as the library door closed.
“I’ll promise you nothing,” he said, still angry from seeing Harry, his voice ringing in his ears. He had enough patience to be led about to the wrong location, but not nearly enough to be presented with yet another side quest.
“You will,” Narcissa said, turning to him, “Or I will have you removed from the manor and I will refuse to show you the library.”
Severus drew his wand, pointed it at her, “I cured Black. I fulfilled my side of the bargain. I will not be made into someone's errand boy, Lady Malfoy.”
Narcissa did not flinch at the sight of his wand, she made no move to reach for her own either, but Severus would have been a fool to think she couldn’t have drawn it in a flash. “You are already an errand boy. I know you signed a contract with Dumbledore to teach, Lucius is on the Board of Governors.”
“You’re not making a good argument for your case,” he sneered. What good could come of insulting him?
“The information you will find at Carrickfergus is invaluable to you—”
He cut her off, “And I have already paid the toll for it.”
Narcissa shook her head, “Listen,” she stressed and then, just as quickly as Severus had predicted she drew her wand. Before he could react he was knocked back and bound, a gag pressed into his mouth, arms wrenched and tied behind him.
Wordless.
Severus had not known Narcissa was powerful enough to cast such complex spells without speaking. He tucked the information away for later.
Narcissa moved to stand over him, bent down, and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. She hauled his face close to her. That was another thing Severus hadn’t known about her; she was strong.
“Before I bring you to the library you will make me this promise. When the Dark Lord returns you will protect Draco.”
She pulled the gag from his mouth, clearly expecting an answer.
“Wait,” Severus said, “You know about the Dark Lord returning?”
Was she the source Dumbledore had spoken of, the rumblings, the rumors? How did she know about such a thing? Was Lucius involved? He had been very active during his years as a Death Eater and his father had served the Dark Lord too. Were the Malfoys aiding in his return?
“No body was found,” she said, letting him go. He sagged to the floor, still bound. “So he will be back. A man like that - you need evidence, blood, bone, ash.”
Being missing didn’t count. Being silent for years meant nothing.
Severus realized he had played his cards, said too much. He could not think of a cover up in time and Narcissa spoke over him,
“Who else knows,” she asked, “You did not stumble upon that information alone.”
“Why should I tell you?” It was a childish response and Severus knew it.
“Because he’ll want you back when he returns, if only to torture you for losing your mark.”
“And just what does that have to do with you?” Severus asked. It wasn’t as if she could give him back his arm.
She knelt down in front of him, bringing them eye level without the manhandling this time. “You’re brewing up a story to avoid the Dark Lord’s punishment - as much as you can avoid it anyway. I’ll vouch for you, Lucius will vouch for you. We’re a family with strong ties to the Dark Lord. We’ve been in his inner circle for generations. We will tell him whatever we need to and our voices will have weight.”
Severus’ eyes widened. Narcissa had a point. Both the Malfoys and the Blacks had ties to the Dark Lord’s inner circle. Bellatrix and Lucius were valued Death Eaters, not to mention model purebloods in the Dark Lord’s eyes. If they spoke for Severus, said something had happened to his arm, that he was still loyal, it could save him. He had no doubt he’d still be tortured, but he would live. He would live and have the chance to keep going.
“You will do this in exchange for what, exactly?” He asked, almost hoarse now.
“Like I said, protect Draco.”
That couldn’t possibly be all of it. Narcissa valued her family deeply but she knew the value of what she was exchanging — protection from the Dark Lord for what? The job of watching over a pure blood prince of a boy likely to be brought happily into the ranks of the Death Eaters and then live a cushy life as one due to his forefathers’ loyalty to the cause.
Lucius had experienced the Dark Lord’s moods, the agony of his cruciatus, but in comparison to how their master treated most of the other Death Eaters he was treated like royalty. Draco would be no different. A bit of pain was nothing.
What in hell did Narcissa know?
“What are you hiding?” He asked. It wasn’t a very Slytherin question, but he didn’t have much energy left for subtlety.
“A heavy amount of precaution,” she answered, and Severus knew it wasn’t a lie but it also wasn’t the truth he was looking for.
Severus narrowed his eyes, “What’s at Carrickfergus?”
“Make the promise.”
“If what you are asking pertains to Carrickfergus then I want to know what I’m getting myself into,” Severus had been kept in the dark for far too long. He was exhausted and coming to terms with the fact that he was looking down the barrel of many, many years of exhaustion to come.
“What I want to know,” she said slowly, “is why you know so little.”
“Someone has been actively withholding information from me,” he snapped. How dare she keep the knowledge of Carrickfergus away from him and then wonder at his ignorance. He wasn’t a seer for Salazar’s sake. He couldn’t possibly be expected to know things he had never had the chance to understand.
“Harry knows far more than you and he is a child,” Narcissa said, as if that clarified anything. Knew what? “You’ve had decades!”
“To do what? Tell me, Lady Malfoy, just what have I had decades to do!” He was losing his temper.
“To encounter your past, to see the visions you are meant to see,” she looked, rather suddenly, quite tired, more so than Severus could remember.
“I don’t — I don’t understand,” he confessed, looking down at the carpet. Maybe there was something wrong with him, that’s what Arthur had thought, surely, and plenty of people had thought he was a freak when he was a boy. Maybe Narcissa was right, maybe this was some kind of short coming on his part, something he couldn’t necessarily control.
“Have you seen anything, anything at all?”
Severus almost didn’t want to answer, “I… a while ago I felt like I traveled back in time. I met Merlin, spoke to him.”
“A while ago?”
“Around Harry’s birthday.”
Her shoulders slumped. It was disconcerting to see her look so human, so touched by the world and experiences around her. She had always appeared beyond impact. “But nothing as a child, no visions, no strange encounters?”
Strange encounters?
Severus wasn’t sure what she meant but he shook his head.
“Vessels usually see such things.”
Vessels… Severus knew he and Harry were such things, and knew from the boy that the Dark Lord was one too. But he didn’t know what that meant, not really.
“I think,” he swallowed thickly, “there was something wrong with me last time. I wasn’t able to come back quite right.”
She leaned against a dark oak table, looking out the window. He wondered if she could see if anyone was still on the lawn below, the library faced that way after all. “Merlin tried to ensure you would remain dead.”
Severus felt his throat tighten.
So Merlin really had pushed him away. Worse, he had tried to get rid of him.
“What did I do?” He asked and it was such a childish question. As a boy he would try to figure out how to make himself more palatable for others, less likely to be targeted, but it never worked. He always did something, messed up somehow.
“I don’t think it has to do with you doing something.”
Severus wanted to disagree with her, to call her out, but she turned to him.
“Severus,” she said, “The Carrickfergus library has more knowledge than even I have. Were you not a vessel or a keeper I would kill you myself before I allowed you access to it, but despite my loyalties I must have you promise me to protect Draco. If you do not, you may as well end me.”
Kill her?
“Why?” He asked.
“You know why,” she said, hand clenching over her chest. She was too human now. Severus would never be able to see her as a pillar of unalterable strength again. She was a woman, that was all. “Draco is my son, surely you understand that love.”
Severus did.
“I will forsake anything, any tie, any expectation, any master, for him, for my son,” Narcissa said and Severus understood. Such sacrifice was like breathing.
“You expect nothing more of me than his protection?”
“You say it as if it is a small thing.”
To speak of the burden it truly was would wound the both of them, Severus knew.
“You will give me Carrickfergus,” he said in response, “All of it, unrestricted and without limit. I may access it at any time for any reason and for as long as I desire,” he locked their gazes, his magic sparking, pooling around them, intent upon creating a bond, a vow. “In addition you will protect me from the Dark Lord when he returns by speaking of my loyalty to his cause.”
“Let me get the witness,” Narcissa said, understanding his assent, but also the strength of his demands.
Severus made to ask who she had chosen, but she disappeared through the library door before he could properly form the sentence.
She came back with Sirius Black.
Severus stiffened.
Black bared his teeth at him as if he were still that wretched dog.
“What place does he have here,” Severus demanded. How could Narcissa expect him to make such an intimate vow with Sirius Black present? Hadn’t the mutt done enough?
“He is my family.”
“I know that,” she hadn’t let him forget it.
“He will make a fine witness.”
“You and I have very different definitions of fine,” Severus said, “why not Lucius?” He’d take the stuck up bastard over the mutt — although barely. “Is he not your family as well?”
“We have conflicting views on the matter,” Narcissa answered stiffly.
“On the matter of your son’s safety?” Hell, on the matter of Malfoy's singular full heir’s safety. If Lucius cared for nothing else then he at the very least had to care for that.
“On what constitutes our son’s safety.”
Severus tensed at the desperation and fear in her voice, then sneered again at its full implication. “The Dark Lord’s violence was not enough to sway Abraxis from him, or to give Abraxis cause to prevent Lucius from taking the mark.”
Narcissa nodded, “Lucius will behave no differently. Not when the time comes,” she paused and collected herself. “No matter what he promises me in this lull, I’m no fool. He will crawl back to the Dark Lord and offer our son as tribute. He will believe he is securing Draco’s future in the world the Dark Lord is making.”
“He won’t make shit,” Black said, anger and confidence in his tone, the brash behavior of one who wasn’t well enough equipped for the discussion at hand. “He’s dead. Harry killed him. Everyone knows that.”
They ignored him.
“If you didn’t want this to become an issue you shouldn’t have married the man,” Severus said.
“You know well the duties of a pureblood lady. Who else was I to marry who wasn’t involved with the Dark Lord or a target for his anger?” Narcissa answered and Severus looked away, knowing she was right. He’d been in Slytherin long enough to learn about the intricacies of pureblood marriages and with the Dark Lord courting most of the sacred twenty eight, Narcissa had had little option.
But still, something did not sit right with him.
He narrowed his eyes and glanced at Black, “How much does he know?”
“Of what?” Black demanded. Severus could tell by the shifting of his feet that he wasn’t happy with being placed outside the conversation.
“About why I agreed to heal you,” Severus said. It wasn’t a lie, but it could easily become one if pressed. But for Narcissa it was crystal clear.
How much did Sirius Black know about Carrickfergus, about Merlin, about Harry.
“Not enough,” Narcissa said and Severus breathed a sigh of relief. He had no desire for Black to learn such a thing. Although Narcissa’s words implied that that may be subject to change.
He sighed and wiped his palms across his thighs as if to wash his hands of something — their conversation perhaps. It was evident that Narcissa would not budge and although he feared she may ask for something else, he was tired of waiting. Perhaps it was best to give in.
“I’ll make the vow.”
Narcissa nodded, the relief in her eyes just barely hidden, she reached out her hand.
Severus took it, sliding his palm past hers, over her wrist and up her arm until they were twined together, holding one another just below the elbow.
Narcissa spoke quietly between them, her words rising up and imbued with magic. Severus shivered, he had never been so close to another wixen performing complex magic aside from when he’d been given the mark. The fact that the vow pulsed through his only remaining forearm did not help the unease settling in his stomach.
“You, Severus Snape, will protect the life of my son, Draco Malfoy, at all costs and against any enemy, above all else. In return I, Narcissa Malfoy Née Black, will permit you access to the Carrickfergus Library and all contents therein, unrestricted and at your leisure, beginning immediately after the creation of this unbreakable vow, as witnessed by Sirius Black. Further, for the duration of this vow, house Malfoy will speak of your loyalty to the Dark Lord’s cause, upholding you, is his company, as a beacon of his ideologies to the best of our abilities. Do you consent to this vow and the magic it possesses?”
Severus sneered, “I, Severus Snape, will protect the life of your, Narcissa Malfoy Née Black’s, son Draco Malfoy, at all costs and against any enemy, above all else besides the life of Harry James Potter. In return, you will permit me access to the Carrickfergus Library and all contents therein, unrestricted and at my leisure, beginning immediately after the creation of this unbreakable vow, as witnessed by Sirius Black. Further, for the duration of this vow, house Malfoy will speak of my loyalty to the Dark Lord’s cause, upholding me, is his company, as a beacon of his ideologies to the best of their abilities. I consent to this vow and the magic it possesses.”
Narcissa’s face twisted at Severus’ addition to the wording, but if she refused it Severus would give up on the library. He wouldn’t place the Malfoy heir’s life above Harry’s. He wouldn’t place his own life above Harry’s—even now when he was angry and confused about whatever had happened between them in their past lives.
Despite her internal protest, Narcissa dipped her head in agreement, looking to Black, “Do you, Sirius Black, confirm yourself as a witness to this vow.”
Black did not looked too pleased with his position, but he spoke “I, Sirius Black, confirm myself as a witness to this vow made between Narcissa Malfoy Née Black and Severus Snape regarding Severus Snape’s protection of Draco Malfoy’s life at all costs and against any enemy, above all besides the life of Harry James Potter in exchange for Narcissa Malfoy Née Black’s permission for Severus Snape to access the Carrickfergus Library and all contents therein, unrestricted and at his leisure, and house Malfoy’s declaration of Severus Snape’s loyalty to the cause of the man they name the Dark Lord, beginning immediately at the creation of this vow.”
If Severus liked Black any better he might have commended the man. Despite his clear dislike of the situation and the people making the vow, Black played his role.
Severus chalked it up to him being a pureblood. Such vows were important to them and not made in any kind of jest. Regardless of his dislike of Severus, Black had to understand the weight of the situation, if through nothing other than context clues.
“So mote it be,” Narcissa said and the magic around them began to tingle further, spider webbing up his arm until Severus could taste the tang of blood iron and copper at the back of his throat.
“So mote it be,” he said, the power curling up and over his clavicle before descending to tangle about his heart, heavy and tight in a binding that would seize should he break his vow, killing him within moments.
“So mote it be,” Black said, voice low with the power of magic humming in the room.
At the witness’ words the swirling power about their arms clenched, froze in midair before sinking down fully, pressing against their forearms until their skin split.
Dark blood welled up around the cuts, they were not sudden, but slow as the magic sunk down into flesh rather than merely rending it. Narcissa’s blood ran down her hand and long, pale fingers, intermingling with Severus' own. Where the back of his arm was split open her blood poured into him and his into hers - their magic mixing through the wounds.
They were bound, not by womb water or the ties of law — but blood drawn, borne and exchanged between them.
Only his Dark Mark had held such weight to him.
Their blood dripped to the floor, seeped into the ancient wood of the manor. In a way it was as much of a witness as Black was, breathing their magic in and mixing it with the generations before them.
The moment hung suspended, silence reigning as they waited for the magic to dissipate. It did, but slowly, slower than Severus believed it was supposed to, although he wasn’t an expert on the matter.
Eventually though their wounds closed and their blood stopped falling to the floor. Along his arm were bright scars, new and tender, pink and stretched tight. He would be careful with them and bear them for the rest of his life.
“It is done,” Narcissa said, moving back from him, her hand slipping from his own, wet but drying.
Severus nodded, taking a step back as well. After the vow he felt as if he needed to put space between them. The crackle of magic was still heavy in the air, making him uneasy. He knew Narcissa was a powerful witch, but he had never felt such power from her before. It made him realize just how dangerous she was. Not many wixen knew how to suppress the feeling of their magical core, but Severus could now tell that she dimmed the presence of her magic purposefully and perhaps constantly. He did not know if she relaxed the control around her husband, but he had never felt her magic as it was now, not even in the weeks he had spent at the manor.
“My payment?” He asked stiffly.
“Soon,” she said.
Severus scowled, “Now. I want payment now—that is what we agreed upon.”
“Fine,” she said, turning to Black, “Leave.”
Black’s face crumpled into a familiar expression - petulance. Severus had seen him wear it frequently at Hogwarts. It didn’t do him any favors. “What do you mean leave? What was all that about?”
“It doesn’t concern you,” Severus said. This was part of the reason he hadn’t wanted Black as the witness, it opened the door to too many questions.
“Doesn’t concern me?” Black spat, stalking too close to Severus, sneering down at him. He didn’t draw his wand, he didn’t dare to do so in front of the Lady of Malfoy Manor, but Severus could tell he wanted to. “That vow included Harry, my godson. It concerns me.”
“That vow included Mr. Potter to protect him,” Narcissa said, “You heard and repeated the words yourself. There’s nothing to trouble yourself over.”
“Nothing to-?” Black scoffed, looking over to Narcissa but gesturing to Severus, “He! He kidnapped Harry! Why would he add a condition about protecting him?”
“Are you really so stupid,” Severus asked, “Why do you think the boy is healthy and safe after all these years? Why do you think he saved me from you when we fought in the alley?”
Their eyes locked and for a moment it was as if Black was a dog again. Severus slipped into his mind and offered up a small sliver of truth. He didn’t give him much - no, the depths of his feelings for Harry were his own. A taste though? That he could offer.
Black wrenched back as if he’d touched a fire, pulling in a sharp breath through his teeth.
“You?” he narrowed his eyes for a few minutes, misbelieving, “you care for him?”
Care could not even begin to cover it.
He averted his eyes, cutting their connection completely, “He is the last of Lily,” he said and at first, years ago, that had been the reason—but now Severus knew that he loved Harry more than he had ever loved his friend.
Black’s harsh expression softened minutely before hardening again, a sneer on his lips, “He’s the last of James too, you could just as easily hate him with that thinking.”
That was true. His love for Lily could have just as easily been felt as his hatred for James when he had found Harry in Godric’s Hollow.
“But I don’t,” he said, voice softer than he wanted it to be, sadder. He didn’t mean to show weakness but Harry had always been that to him, a wound. “I have raised that boy for six years.”
Black opened his mouth to say something, but for once kept quiet as the reality of it seemed to hit him.
Severus loved Harry.
“If it comes down to it,” Severus said, trying to hold himself steady while he felt too exposed, “I would sacrifice Draco for Harry, just as Narcissa would no doubt sacrifice Harry for Draco.”
Narcissa, her expression pained, nodded in reluctant understanding. There was no changing the truth. They loved who they loved, held responsibility for those they were responsible for. No vow could negate that.
“Now,” Severus said, “I want my payment. Please.”
A few minutes later Black had been escorted out of the library by a house elf, leaving Narcissa and Severus alone. He hadn’t been happy about it, grumbling about needing to take care of Harry to gain back a bit of nonexistent power in the situation, but he had left without too much fuss.
Severus was grateful for that much at least. The day had already been quite the headache and his arm throbbed from the new vow. He needed to rest, eat a good meal if he could stomach it, and take a long, warm shower.
He couldn’t though. He needed to get to the library and he wasn’t about to ask for a break. If he did then there was no telling when he’d actually make it to Carrickfergus. Knowing Narcissa, if he gave her more time to think of what she could require of him, what she could hang over his head, she would use it and continue to delay his access as much as she could with the vow.
Severus drew himself up to the best of his ability, “lead the way.”
Narcissa sighed and gestured to the large family tapestry, “I have informed the other keeper of your potential arrival.”
“Potential?” Severus asked, annoyance pouring back into him. There was nothing potential about him going to Carrickfergus. “I cured Black. I took your vow. I will see the library.”
“Yes,” Narcissa said tactfully, although Severus judged from her expression that had she not been better trained in etiquette she would have rolled her eyes, “but they don’t know about the vow, that only just happened. Or do you suppose I stopped time to send an owl?”
“They know about Black then?”
“Yes— and that you’ve cured him. They are grateful.”
Severus paused. What reason would this so-called keeper have to care about Black or his time spent as an insane dog, well, other than his usual time spent as such a mutt which was nearly always but that was beside the point. Why did this mystery person care? Why would they be grateful?
Severus did not ask, instead choosing to look into something he hoped would receive an actual answer, “what is a keeper?”
“Someone sworn to one of the vessels as a holder of their history and will,” Narcissa explained, “we keepers maintain, to the best of our abilities, the libraries of previous vessels, their knowledge, and give it to the new vessels when they come of age.”
She lifted her hand and pressed it over a knot on the tree in front of her, touching the tapestry carefully before plucking out a single thread that began to glow brightly as soon as it was singled out from the whole.
“If I am a vessel, and of age, then why haven’t you led me to it?”
“I am one of Merlin’s keepers. I am not bound to you, Arthur.”
The thread in her hand twisted and coiled into what resembled a cat’s cradle, weaving between her fingers.
“Who is bound to me?” He asked, hoping that whoever it was they were less troublesome than Narcissa and more importantly, that they would help him answer the questions that had been plaguing him about his centuries without Harry, the lives they had spent apart.
“No one,” she answered, causing anger to flash through him. Not only had he been abandoned but he had no one to preserve the evidence of his past lives? “They were killed.”
“Killed?” He asked, anger shifting to confusion and apprehension, “by who?”
“The Dark Lord,” she said, the space between her fingers hummed with power until the air wavered. She pulled her fingers away and the shape of the cradle remained, suspended in the air. She reached for one of her rings, twisting the diamond from the top to reveal a sharp needle. “He wanted evidence of those times erased.”
“And what of Merlin’s keepers?”
“Most of us he brought into his fold—Death Eaters, members of the pureblood families. He convinced many to break their oaths and show him the secrets they kept.”
“But why not kill them?”
Narcissa paused long enough to press the needle into the tip of her right forefinger, a spot of blood welled up which she let drip into the center of the cradle where it was caught and suspended by the magic humming throughout it. “Kill them? Merlin’s keepers were of high social status, pureblooded Lords and Ladies as I’ve said. Killing them would have weakened his chances of gathering a following. He had to work with them to achieve his goals.”
“But my keepers were fine to kill off?”
“Arthur was a muggle, many of his keepers were half bloods and muggleborns, a few were even muggles themselves. The Dark Lord lost nothing when he killed them” she handed the ring to Severus, indicating that he was to prick his finger as well.
Severus did so, dripping his blood into the cradle, “The Dark Lord, he was - is a vessel. What of his keepers?”
“Morgana, in his previous life, killed them in a fit of rage. At least, that’s as much as I’ve ever been told. I am not sure if he found her libraries,” Narcissa explained, the cradle in front of them lowering to the ground before growing in size, forming a portal in the floor. Runes formed at the edges of the growing circle and they stepped back, giving the magic the space it needed.
“But I saw the library, or at least part of it, before with that man - Pope,” Severus said, “there was a portrait of her there.”
“They were friends once,” Narcissa said as the portal beneath them calmed, its growth stopping as it stabilized. “There are traces of her in Merlin’s libraries.”
“Have you been to others?” He asked.
She nodded, but then said, “I have not been to Carrickfergus. I am not its keeper,” as she stepped forward, falling gracefully into the portal, disappearing in an instant. It was faster even than apparition, there one split second, gone the next.
The portal began shrinking the moment she left, the edges lighting up a bright green that pulsed with an almost overwhelming power.
Severus froze, his heart beating against his chest. What did she mean she wasn’t Carrickfergus’ keeper? How could she let him into the library if she wasn’t? Where did the portal before him lead if not to the library he had been promised?
He backed away. Was this a trap? How could he trust her, follow her?
The portal shrank.
Severus looked to the door.
Would he risk it?
Why would Narcissa ask him to heal Black and enter an unbreakable vow with her just to—
The vow.
Severus took a sharp breath in, steadying himself. Narcissa had made a vow with him which detailed his access to Carrickfergus specifically and he had requested that access. Narcissa was bound to the vow, she had to comply.
Still Severus readied his wand.
He stepped into the portal, letting it wrench him down, down, down—
Then sideways, and up, and to the side, in a loop, backwards, down again-
It was worse than apparition, but slower and therefore more tolerable than a portkey. The odd directions turned his stomach though and it took far longer than he’d thought it would, giving him enough time to feel each unpleasant sensation and jerk of motion.
It was a wonder he came out the other end on his feet.
“Hello Severus.”
The voice of a man caught his attention and he looked up, finding Narcissa and beside her Pope, seated on a large desk in front of him, the library sprawling around them
Pope lifted his wand and, with a quick flick, dismissed the body around him, waving away his disguise.
Severus felt as if he might faint.
Regulus smiled.
“It’s been a long time, old friend.”