After the first round of drinks had been distributed, Severus was startled when Rabastan removed his mask and death eater cloak- and even more so, when, after demanding attention for a toast, the others all followed suit and the Lestrange brother proclaimed “To our comrade, a full blood Prince if ever I’ve seen one. You’re a credit to your bloodline- whatever filthy muggle could have gotten into your bloodline was clearly eradicated by the superior old pure blood. And not just the superior blood- the most impressive of the Prince line within living memory. May we accomplish every mission with such alacrity and success in the name of our Lord.”
Severus' breath should have caught. He should have felt something when Bellatrix, Rudolphus, Lucius, Evan, and Regulus all stood and tapped on their glasses in approval, repeating in unison “In the name of our Lord.”
It was complete acceptance, something he’d been angling for using all of his cunning and abilities for a full year and a half- and yet, he felt nothing but a distant contemptuous revulsion. And the extreme high from the excess potions in his system, the joy and agility he normally felt seemed shunted into the back of his mind. All he could feel was an odd emptiness, that had him reinforcing his occlumency shields, because there was a niggling of something dangerous behind the initial emotion. Something bad. Not knowing what expressions he could manage were he to try, Severus focused on distancing himself from everything except the necessary words of appreciation for the toast and acceptance. In that tiny space that anchored him, Severus registered that something was deeply wrong. But he boxed it, refusing to ruin what had been a perfect evening, with even a form of fire patronus that he’d never managed, or even heard of before. Something he would need to make copious notes on the second he was alone…
At about the point that the fading night started to shift from black to purple, shadows from the candles dimmed and the outline of the windows grew clearer, the other Death Eaters began to leave- Lucius, with a few painfully cosmopolitan and polite phrases had left earlier. It wasn’t until after Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers left that Severus realized that Regulus must still be around somewhere. But Evan was giving him that look and Severus didn’t give a damn where the young Black was.
“Well, I have to agree with them.” Evan spoke slowly, looking away from Severus and staring into his drink, a crease between his brows and his voice flat. “I definitely saw nothing but the Prince breeding tonight.” Evan downed the remainder of his drink, then moved to Severus, gripping his hair and kissing him deeply, the numbness from the powder he’d taken earlier spreading to Severus’ own lips.
“This from someone who always tells me that breeding is nonsense.” Severus said wryly after Evan had pulled back for air. Severus spread his legs slightly, tugging on Evan’s shoulders, suddenly needing his touch in a way he hadn’t needed anything before. He reached one hand down, to find… nothing- Evan had pulled back, the strange look still twisting his statue-esque features into a mask of emotions, but all that Severus thought he recognized (he must be wrong, the night had gone so well!) was confused disappointment and… fear.
“Evan-” Severus’ almost sounded pleading, despite the wry intonation of the name.
Evan shook his head, his handsome features smoothing. “It’s nothing, I just have lots of Ministry nonsense tomorrow. You know how it is- plus, I’m going to enjoy hearing what they say about tonight. You really were amazing. A force of nature.” The last sentence came out softly, and there was something so wrong about his expression, and then whatever Severus was seeing cleared, and the old Evan was back. “It’s nice to see you finally show everyone what you are capable of. If nothing else, I promise you Dumbledore, along with Ministry and private recruiters, they’ll all be twisting with the chagrin of having missed out on you.”
Severus looked up at his friend sharply, the sentence felt wrong as wrong as his friend’s earlier tones and expression, despite his intoxication.
At Severus' narrow, searching look, Evan gave him a confident smirk, the one that made every recipient go weak at the knees, regardless of gender or sexual orientation. Severus reached again, fingers twisting the buttons of his friend’s shirt, pushing himself off the wall to press their bodies together, only to have Evan pull away yet again. It was maddening, in the way that an itch just out of reach could cause one to destroy every other piece of skin they could touch. But Severus couldn’t plead. He’d worked so hard to get here- he wasn’t going to let a moment of emotional confusion bring him down now.
Evan gave his shoulder a companionable squeeze, and then disapparated, leaving Severus staring into thin air, his mind roiling, occluding in a desperate attempt to shut down all of the extremes of emotions he’d felt that night. Surely he was only feeling this empty guilty shame because of the drugs, the intensity of the night. He’d worked so hard, planned for every possible outcome, and best of all that creep in Knockturn had finally met with the fitting ending that Severus had fantasized about providing him since he was eight. He’d done the world a favor, fulfilled a promise he’d made to himself, and in doing so brought his talents to the attention of the most powerful people in the world. For once in his life, everything had come together perfectly.
After tossing the remainder of the glacial vodka into the fire, he decided to remove the memory of the night, something he would store and review later. His current emotional state was almost certainly just a side-effect that he would need to remember next time he mixed stimulants. For the time being, he’d sleep it off with dreamless sleep, and examine the memory to make notes later. Everything would be clear once he’d gotten rest and allowed his system to settle.
Remembering that there was still a guest somewhere in his residence, he murmured a quiet charm, then followed the internal compass to his side bathroom- Regulus was passed out on the floor, vomit smeared across his face and in the toilet. Scowling (he didn’t think Reg had that much to drink, but perhaps he’d been more distracted than he’d realized) he cast a few cleaning charms, then levitated the younger boy to the living room couch, and tossed the boy’s cloak over his form. Hopefully when he woke up the Black heir would be gone. Just to be safe, he cast several charms around the sofa, including an almost imperceptible compulsion for him to return home upon waking. That done, he tiredly returned to his bedroom, cast his customary wards, and after a slight pause, tossed back a shot of elixir of peace before taking his standard dose of dreamless sleep. He’d convince Evan to go to lunch with him tomorrow, and everything would be back to normal.