Sympathy for the Devil

Sympathy for the Devil

disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters, nor do I own the music referenced in or by any character herein.

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Chapter 1: Allow Me to Introduce Myself…

It was another cold and dreary night in Hogwart's Castle. Severus Snape was halfway through his second bottle of firewhiskey and was debating whether or not to stop at two or go for a third.

"Well, Severus, old boy, innocence just doesn't agree with you," he muttered to himself. He was getting full-on pissed because yet another story had been written, painting him the tragic hero. "Fifteen bloody years after the end of the war, and whenever the news gets boring, they still write about the horror of Slytherin house."

The latest story was somewhat of a new tack the younger generation of reporters was starting to troll: his lack of a love-life. Now that the children he'd "tortured" (taught, in his opinion), were the writers and power in the wizarding world, they were convinced that his single state was the reason behind his dour demeanor.

"Well, perhaps to a degree. But wanking off or the occasional whore takes care of my physical needs, thank you very much," he slurred to no-one in particular. He scanned the article and grimaced.

Professor Severus Snape, Order of Merlin, 1st class, has long been known to visit such houses of ill-repute as Madame Beau'ts Busty Bordeau, The Knob-Hole, and, though we have yet to fully investigate, sources claim he has begun frequenting The Partners' Club, a gentlemen-only site – geared towards and featuring only wizards.

It truly is a sad state of affairs when a war hero cannot even afford himself the company of a partner, male or female, outside of putting down good galleons for a bit of time. Sadder still is the fact that Professor Snape has been approached and has turned down more than one willing wizard or witch.

"I just don't know what his glitch is," said one enraged witch. "All I says is 'You're that Snape, ain't ye? The hero? Can I buy ya a drink?' He saved my cousins in one of the Deatheater attacks on Hogwart's. I just wanted to thank him, he didn't have to be so bloody rude!"

A young wizard also tried to invite the Professor out and was turned out on his ear for the suggestion. The young man refused to be quoted, though his friends say he was called such names as "flaming widget" and "assuming, infuriating dunderhead" by the older wizard.

Who can say what makes Severus Snape run, romantically, but surely it is a pathetic state when such a tragic hero can not find a companion to live out his years with. We'll cover more about his past liaisons as this series, "The Heart of Severus Snape", continues over the next few weeks.

Lavender Brown Malfoy

He chucked the paper across the room and into the fire, irked that the article was in print, and more than pissed because it was written by his godson's wife. Lavender had proven to be a good love match for Draco, but the woman should never have been allowed near a newspaper. Especially considering that she was close enough to get more information than just about any other reporter.

"Blasted witch," Severus fumed. He was seriously contemplating the third bottle of firewhiskey when he was suddenly and unwelcomingly sober. He blinked once, twice, and shook, his body resenting its sudden lack of alcohol. He sat down, hard, on his over-stuffed, ratty old favorite chair – the only thing he brought with him from Spinner's End.

He looked up, wiped at his bleary eyes, and cracked a creaky laugh at the figure standing in front of him. It was an old man, in coat and tails, a long, ebony walking stick in his right hat, a top hat in the other. He nodded to Severus, but held up his hand.

"No, no, please, don't get up on my account. And consider your sudden sobriety… a free gift," the old man smiled, revealing shiny, sharp, even teeth. For a moment Severus thought of his own, crooked, yellowing teeth and was jealous. The gentleman smiled and buffed the ivory skull top of his cane on his sleeve. "Allow me to introduce myself, I'm… a man of wealth, and taste."

Severus snorted, a very un-Severus-like thing to do. He shook his head and eyed the third bottle of firewhiskey. He'd only had two. He shouldn't be delusional, not on two bottles of the cheap stuff.

"You must be joking," Severus said, leaning back and templing his fingers in front of his face. "That song was very popular amongst muggle and magical alike, and while you're assuredly a strong wizard to be standing, still alive, in my inner sanctum, I don't believe in what you think you're pretending to be."

"Severus Tobias Snape, only son of Eileen Snape nee Prince and the disreputable Tobias Snape, first lover of Lily Potter nee Evans, and lustful Master of Potions of Hogwart's… who else could be standing here, wasting breath with you?" the gentleman's façade was beginning to fade.

"And if I choose to believe your senile rantings?"

The Devil licked his lips. "Play a game with me. Give me free reign to grant your wishes… all I ask for… is your soul."

Severus snarled, the closest thing he had to a smile. Well, he might be sober, but he was still a Snape. And if the senile old wizard wanted to use his considerable talent to ease Severus's life, so be it. He'd die before he could take any of it back.

"Sure, old man, have my soul. Black as it is, I have no need for it. Is a verbal agreement enough or do I need to piss in the snow for you?"

"First, my name is not old man. If you're going to address me, get it right. But before I grant any wish… guess my name."

"Rumplestiltskin."

The Devil paled in fury but regained his colouring shortly, rolling his head on his neck, a bit of flame glowering in the back of his eyes. "I would guess seriously, Lord Snape. Piss me off and I'll take your soul where you stand. The Dementor's would still get a kick out of sodomizing your sorry ass."

"Buggering old coot," Severus said under his breath. After the article Lavender had published, that hit a little too close to home. "What do you want me to call you? Mephistopheles?"

A closed-lip smile replaced the gleaming white one. "That shall work just fine, my boy. A show, if you will, of the smallest bit of power I have. If you wake up and find that nothing is different, then consider your soul your own and forget we ever met."

Severus tried to glare at Mephistopheles but found his eyelids too heavy to any but close, slowly, the image of an old man with a skull-tipped cane the last thing he saw before he drifted off for the night…

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AU: So, here we have it, another Severus Snape story, and I think by now, you all know who he's going to be lusting after.

Consider this story to be the song "Sympathy for the Devil" meets the old allegory, "Dr. Faustus". With a Lady Kyo twist, of course. Enjoy!