Lucius and Severus bent over the bubbling potion. They had not moved from Severus' potions lab for three weeks.
"The Confundus Potion is approximately thirteen-fifteenths of the way complete," Severus said, speaking in the proper English everyone had come to recognize from him.
Lucius swept his white-blond hair out of his face. "We'll send this up to Dumbledore's office," he said. "Before we know it, the Longbottom Squib will attend Hogwarts and our plan to ruin the threat of Longbottom prophecy will be accomplished."
The two laughed together before sharing two fingers of a fine vintage (as well as two fingers of a finger sandwich).
Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, bored. His phoenix had recently burned to a crisp yet, for some reason, Albus could not find him. He shrugged and reached for the plate of hot wings that had appeared just this morning on his desk. He assumed Dobby must have been doing him a favor. But the wings strangely made his stomach hurt, so he shoved them aside and began fiddling with the little silver instruments on his desk. Even he didn't know what they did.
An owl banged on his window. It was missing one eye, several tail feathers, a left foot, and half a beak. Hmm, Albus thought. Must be a Weasley owl.
It was carrying a bottled Potion marked "Lemon Drop Potion."
"Sounds delicious," Albus said. "And since it's from Molly's owl, it's got to be safe. No need to spend time testing it for Dark Curses. You know how much I love Lemon Drops."
He downed the Potion and a strange feeling of disconnect fell over him. "I think I should send a Hogwarts letter to Neville Longbottom, even though he's a registered Squib."
He pulled out his Sugar Quill and scrawled a welcome letter to Neville—even though Professor McGonagall normally did the honors.
Severus and Lucius cackled with laughter. Before leaving, Lucius reminded Severus he was due for his yearly bath.
It was the day of Harry's fifteenth birthday. Mrs. Weasley bustled around the living room, dusting the permanent fixtures. She ran a feather duster over Remus Lupin who was in a dead faint on the couch, recovering from the full moon twenty-three days ago. Sirius Black was snoring loudly on the floor, surrounded by thirty empty bottles of firewhisky. Severus swooped around the house like an overgrown bat.
"I'm going to Diagon Alley to buy another student-sized cauldron," he growled. "The stupid Longbottom boy melted my last four."
"How is Neville doing these days?" asked Arthur who wasn't really listening. He was fixing a Muggle microwave and was amazed at the way sparks shot out of it. "Just like a wand!" he mused.
Fred and George Apparated into the living room. They had just come from their bedroom where they were designing a new practical joke.
Severus sneered at them. Perhaps they would be interested to hear about his and Lucius's practical joke on Neville. But before he could speak, Fred and George started yelling.
"I--" began Fred but George interrupted.
"Hate the way--"
"You always--"
"Finish my sentences."
Clearly they were in the middle of an argument.
"How--?" began Severus, confused.
Fred and George finished together, "the heck do we know what the other is saying?"
"It's a gift, I reckon," George put in.
Severus scowled at them. It was almost as though they were the same person instead of two separate people with individual personalities and differences. And how did Lee (Jordan, of course) survive these two?
Remus woke up yelling something about a boggart. It seemed he dreamed about those often lately. Severus had the sneaking suspicion that boggarts were a joke. He didn't see how boggarts could be remotely useful to the Dark Lord, such as Remus' boggart, a moon. Or Hermione's boggart, a professor who failed her at Hogwarts. He suspected even Remus didn't even know what boggarts did. While he was pondering this, Remus sat up.
"Where's Dumbledore?" Remus said mildly. "I had the most terrifying dream and I need to inform him that Harry's life may be in danger." He smiled placidly. "Look, I'm still shaking."
"Why would Harry's life be in danger?" Snape said, sneering at him. He and Lord Voldemort and all of the Death Eaters knew that Harry was currently on a swing in a park in a Muggle neighborhood, all alone with no one around for miles. And he'd even left his wand locked up in the floorboards. But Lord Voldemort planned to wait until June, after Harry's OWLs were completed, before he killed the Boy Who Lived. The Dark Lord was a strong believer in a good education. It's why he'd applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job back in the day.
"In my dream, I found out You-Know-Who plans to kill him next June," Remus said. "I need to inform Dumbledore." He rose from the couch and tripped over Sirius, scattering bottles everywhere. A sliver of broken glass gashed Remus' arm. He looked at it in mild interest before pulling off his shirt to reveal gashes all over his body. Clearly, he was a contortionist who could scratch and bite his own chest and back when he was a werewolf.
Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the front door and waved in sync. "We're here!" Harry, Ron and Hermione said together. Harry, Ron and Hermione had synchronization talent that Fred and George only dreamed of.
Hermione was carrying a stack of books—Snape liked to call them "tomes." He thought it made his sound more educated.
Tonks, entering the living room to greet them, tripped over the umbrella stand, which snickered and pulled back its foot as she sprawled across the rug.
It hadn't woken up Sirius' mum, but Mrs. Weasley's exasperated yell of "TONKS!" from the kitchen certainly did.
"MUDBLOODS!" Sirius' mother screeched. "HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT MY BEAUTY SLEEP? WEREWOLVES, VEELAS, HALF-GIANTS, METAMORPHAGUS, MUGGLE-LOVERS, POTIONS MASTERS, AND HARRY POTTER DEFILING MY HOUSE!"
"Shut up, Mum!" Sirius shouted. "Do you want the neighbors and Voldemort to hear that Harry Potter is staying here all summer?"
For the alleged Muggles next door had turned down their stereo and Severus heard them shout, "Harry Potter is staying next door!"
Snape's skull and snake tattoo burned. He looked at it in amazement. The summer he was seventeen, he'd stumbled drunkenly into a tattoo parlor and the artist had chosen a tattoo for him. He'd been mistakenly recruited into the Death Eaters, who had the same tattoo, but it had never burned before. He never thought the tattoo was good for anything. Screaming in pain, he pressed the tattoo against Harry's scar.
Rather than easing his pain, a bolt of lightning ripped through his body. Through his screaming, Severus heard Harry join in at perfect pitch. Suddenly, the pain subsided. Mundungus had pulled them apart. Severus, through spinning eyeballs, saw Mundungus lift off the ground for a few seconds, surrounded by a glowing force field, before muttering "Merlin's beard," and collapsing dead on the carpet next to the snoring Sirius.
Clutching his scar, Harry glared fiercely at Severus.
"I thought it might work," Severus said, his whole body shaking as though he'd been electrically shocked. Harry's hair stood on end and, if Severus was not mistaken, several lightning bolts exploded from his body.
The air crackled as Harry stepped backwards. Severus attempted to take a step back and found his shoes had melted into the floor.
"You thought that if your symbol of the evil Dark Lord touched a scar Harry got from his pure, sacrificial mother's love, the pain may disappear?" Remus said, clapping his hands excitedly. "Excellent thought, Severus! I daresay it nearly worked had Mundungus unfortunately not gotten in the way."
Severus smirked at his near-success and hurried to his makeshift potions lab. His tattoo throbbed but he had learned long ago how to dull the pain: Occlumency. He pulled out his quill and wrote on a pristine roll of parchment:
"Dear Lucius--" He paused. Or was it "Lucious?" He could never quite remember.
"I am penning this memorandum to remind you of our plan. The boy (you know of whom I write) has arrived from Muggle Britain. Therefore, we must implement our second portion of the plan involving him and the catastrophic Squib."
He eyed the slimy things suspended in jars on his desk. Even he didn't know what they were.
"Sincerely yours,
"Severus." He squinted at his own name. Was it "Severous?" Now he was confused.
He threw down his wand in calm disgust. After pouring a bit of fine vintage into a glass (no firewhisky for him, thank you), he swept out of the room muttering about half-bloods. In his hurry, he nearly knocked over Mundungus who was standing beside the fireplace talking with Remus.
Severus choked on his fine vintage. "Mund—M-M-Mundung--?" He froze and tried again. He never stuttered. "You were dead!"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Yes, dear boy, he was, but Mundungus was an Animagus who takes the form of a phoenix. As you know, phoenixes have powerful healing tears so he was able to revive himself."
"He was not turned into a phoenix when he died, though. I do not understand, Headmaster," Severus said, wondering why after working for the man for seventeen years, he still felt obligated to call him "Headmaster."
"I was getting to that," Dumbledore said merrily. "It turns out that he had created a Zorfinx."
"What's a Zorfinx?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore turned to Harry with tears in his eyes. "A Zorfinx could have saved your parents' lives and destroyed Voldemort for good when you were a baby. But I never told you about it because I wanted to protect you. I did what I thought was best."
"If you had read Hogwarts: A History, you would have known about the Zorfinx, as well as the Chamber of Secrets and bezoars," Hermione said impatiently. "I just started a new chapter, something about horcruxes. You may want to look into that."
Severus and Dumbledore exchanged a significant look, but Dumbledore decided not to tell Harry yet. It was best to wait until the end of term, when Harry's life was on the line, before bothering him with such trivial matters.
The moon was rising. Remus groaned and tumbled off the couch. "It's time for bed," he said. "I'm bushed."
Severus handed him a Pepperup potion. "Only take half a teaspoonful," he warned. "One dose is enough to make you bounce off the walls."
Ignoring Severus's advice, Remus downed the entire bottle in one gulp. "Oh, look," he said, smiling wanly. "I feel better already." He yawned and shuffled to the kitchen to grab a bowl of Molly's soup. Severus followed him into the kitchen where he saw Molly irritably ladling bowls of soup. Fleur was gliding around the kitchen, looking at herself in every available reflection.
"Oh, eet eez you, Sneep," said Fleur. "Tonks vants to speek vith you."
"Pardon?" Remus said as he sat at the kitchen table.
"Excuse me," Fleur said clearly. "I always forget that I've been getting English lessons for a year."
Even Molly looked amazed.
The return owl came back that night. Severus pulled the white-blond owl in through the window. It nipped him in a way that upheld the Malfoy family honor and hooted haughtily. Unrolling the note, Severus read:
"Dear Severous,
"I do recall the long forgotten Longbottom prophecy that has been long ignored and long neglected by the Death Eaters. No longer! I write the prophecy in its short form here (not long)—The Squib will become a wizard and has powers the Boy Who Lived knows not. He has power to vanquish the One who speaks Parseltongue (not Voldemort). With a sweep of Gryffindor's sword will he will do the deed.
"For some reason, the foreteller couldn't be more specific but I'm certain you can work with this. Sincerely, Lucious."
Severus wished he had given him the long version of the prophecy. Unfortunately, it was locked away in the Department of Mysteries and no one had heard the prophecy in full except Dumbledore, who suspected its meaning but thought it best for Neville to work it out on his own. This plan suited Severus fine, because Neville would never figure it out.
Tonks knocked on the door of the potions study, tripping over the rug as she entered. "Severus, I think I'm in love," she said as she picked herself up.
"And whom would you be in love with?" Severus said, cringing as he ended a sentence with a preposition. He hoped Tonks didn't notice.
Thankfully, she was a Hufflepuff. "I fancy Sirius."
"Your first cousin?"
Tonks frowned. "Good point. Better be Remus, then." She skipped out of the room, knocking over a candlestick and an umbrella stand as she went.
"You do know that Remus is gay?" Snape called after her.
She didn't reply, but Snape heard a shatter of glass that told him she was already downstairs. He sighed and sat down at his desk, staring at his vulture-topped quill and thinking. A plan came to him at last and he knew exactly what to do to prevent the prophecy from occurring, something he should have done instead of sending Neville to Hogwarts to learn magic. He scribbled his reply to Lucius: Kill the Squib.