Genetics • Sirius Black

Chapter Sixty: Sneak Out.

Severus Snape never planned to be a terrorist, and it was something that sort of happened, and to be fair, he was given a hell of a sales pitch.

As he inhaled, he felt the old fabric of his white shirt shift over his ribcage. Letting the air rest in his body, he knew it was his turn to speak, and he could not formulate his thoughts. His back rested against the wall of his dorm, but his head was tilted towards the floor. "Are you... sure?"

With a dark book in her hands, Freya swallowed. "There's not much a spell can do in the hypothetical."

"Regulus will be mad."

"Good thing he does not know."

"Magic's temperamental."

"I trust you."

"I'm bad with healing spells."

"Sev." She said his name in a way that meant "look me in the eyes," and Sev obeyed. His attention shifted over her, and she straightened her back.

Freya would make a great Deatheater. If Evan Rosier properly spoke to her, he'd see Sev's vision. But Rosier's eyes were often clouded by blood, the purity aspect of it, but Sev could see. She wasn't like the others; she was like him. Her thin frame was not for fashion. She was born hungry. Clever as she was, Sev knew better than to trust the nice clothes and pretty face, and he remembered her before Narcissa took her under her wing. She was in his classes with clothes that fit just as bad as he did, and she snuck rations before breaks.

Like him, she turned that struggle into ambition. Their blood ran green and silver. And Sev was going to give her the gift of all gifts, a key to high society so powerful that neither of them would ever be wondering where their next meal was from. Once the spell was finished, they'd show the Dark Lord and be rewarded greatly. Fame, glory, all of it.

 A new world was being built, and they would be the kings and queens at the table instead of the servants.

After a moment, Sev's vision became one of Freya's twisted body writhing on the floor. Holding back a flinch, he pulled away from her eyes, then chewed on his thumb. "We're waiting." He said firmly, trying to will away the memory of fourth year burning in his brain. "It's my spell."

"Sev--"

"We're waiting." He repeated, slightly harsher this time.

It won't be like last time.

Part of her wanted to argue about it, but she could tell by the way he avoided her gaze that he remembered an older experiment, the one that made Reg very against their experiments. It was hard to think of without a shudder, but she managed it. After all, that was ages ago, and they were barely getting into the dark arts at the time, and Freya never regretted it. If anything, it was a bonding experience. Still, she knew his conscious was heavier than hers, so she respectfully lowered her head. "As you wish."

***

Since Freya Grey could not sneak out until Argus Filch got the stick out of his arse, she had a lot more time on her hands catching up with work and spending time with her fellow snakes. Regulus Black enjoyed this immensely, not that anyone could tell with his head in a sketchbook, but he was thrilled. On the other hand, his friend seemed to be going through withdrawal. She finished all her essays, homework, and transcriptions on the third day. Merlin, she even was willing to let Sev experiment on her to do something. 

It was awful.

 She considered taking up yoga, but she had already attempted that third year and spent about thirty minutes setting up the perfect area, only for her to almost snap her neck trying out the more advanced moves since the original ones bored her.