The Birthday Present
By excessivelyperky
Still holding fingers in ears and going LA LA LA LA etc. over Half Blood Prince.
Rowling: All characters, locations, and what not belong to J.K. Rowling, heirs and assigns, and assorted Corporate People. Well, except for the few original characters. There aren't any in this chapter, though.
Chapter Four: You Are Cordially Invited
Severus Snape
Severus continued to work with the Pensieve that entire week. It was a relief to get rid of so many angry memories, as well as the ones of Lily he'd kept for so long. He decided to take the opportunity to dispose of the worst ones of Lucius from last year as well. Unfortunately he couldn't remove them all, as the Dark Lord would be surprised by their absence.
He wished the nightmares would stop. Just when he thought he was done with his past or Potter's, things he'd thought long forgotten would show up in his sleep. That old man who lived across the street from Nora's now showed his face, along with the interesting way he had of getting paid for the bottles Mother needed. He supposed he couldn't have survived Lucius without that early training, but he would rather not be reminded of it. The disconcerting part was that the horrible little man was showing up in his dreams of the Dursley residence. Some of his old Death Eater raids were beginning to mix in as well. It was all very confusing.
Brewing wasn't the refuge that it usually was, either. The fumes bothered him more than usual, which made longer-term potions more difficult. Venting the dungeons each day helped.
Towards the end of the week he appeared at the mid-day meal again, both to assure McGonagall that he was all right and to test his newfound emotional control. To his guarded delight, it held under provocation through a couple of arguments at the table. Since he now knew that Hogwarts was no longer a true refuge, the concerns of the others affected him less. There was no point to his usual sarcasm. No doubt any ill-temper would find its way to Dumbledore's ears. Minerva could usually be trusted, but she left him alone.
Though he had been told to mend fences only with the Potter boy, Snape could see which way the wind was blowing. A neutral tone was best with all, he supposed. It helped that Trelawney with her ridiculous predictions was gone. She swore that her astrological charts worked with everyone but him, but somehow he doubted that. It was just as well that she was taking a course of study overseas. Firenze spent most of each day outside in such fine weather, and rarely appeared at all. Pity. The centaur rarely spoke, and was civil when he did.
The evening before Dumbledore's return he received an invitation from Malfoy Manor for a formal dinner to be held the next night. Lucius's invitations were commands, but Severus was surprised Narcissa wanted to see him at all. No doubt she tried to conduct her own intrigues with her husband gone to keep the Ministry from confiscating everything. He wished her well, and decided to attend. He would even do his best to be courteous. The poor woman needed all the help she could get, though he was amazed she thought his presence would be an asset. It helped that he didn't drink, of course, save when pressed to by Lucius. Narcissa wouldn't insist.
This would be another test of his current relative calm. He'd better let Minerva know about the event. One never knew when a dinner turned into something else. After supper, which he went to for once, he casually showed her the invitation. "I'll tell the Headmaster when he returns tomorrow at lunch, of course, since it's not till tomorrow night. I just thought you ought to know as well."
"Only if you promise not to strangle Umbridge if she happens to be there," McGonagall said tartly.
"Of course. You drew number 1 from the pool. Far be it from me to jump my place in the queue." He couldn't remain emotionless around Minerva, though he knew the risk.
"I'm glad you remember," she said with a wry smile. "However, Fudge is fair game."
"No, I think the Headmaster gets first go with our dear Cornelius. Unless young Mr. Weasley discovers he has his mother's temper after all. Both would be in peril then." Snape had his suspicions about Percy Weasley. He sometimes wondered if the Sorting Hat had done the right thing by putting the boy in Gryffindor with his brothers.
"Molly Weasley would put both heads by the fireplace just like the house elves at Black's house," McGonagall said with a smile.
"And dust them every day." It felt good to make the Transfigurations Professor laugh. He must be careful. Showing any feelings could be dangerous, even ones he liked.
"Ah, Severus! So true. I hope you have a good time, or at least not a horrible one."
"We both know better," he said patiently. He fingered the envelope. He needed to strengthen his mental walls. Even with so many unpleasant memories packed away, he knew how fragile they were sometimes.
Snape sat up and read that night, rather than try to sleep. Sometimes if it overtook him while he was in the chair, the dreams weren't quite as bad.
The next day Dumbledore returned. Severus reported to him in his office about the invitation that afternoon. He'd finally given in close to dawn and take a double dose of Dreamless Sleep, and hadn't woken up till nearly noon.
The Headmaster appeared concerned. Snape knew better, but acknowledged it anyway. It was just part of the game now. He'd learned those who said they were worried about him liked it better if he seemed to be grateful, rather than being confronted with the truth.
Albus fidgeted as they both sat. "I understand that Professor McGonagall has already told you, but I wanted to confirm that Remus Lupin will be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this fall."
"Yes. I've already made preparations for making the Wolfsbane Potion. I wish to point out, however, that if I am…disabled, other arrangements should be made for Lupin for the full moon." There was no point in protesting the decision. It had been made clear he had no rights.
The Headmaster looked troubled. Obviously, he hadn't considered that possibility. "There's something else I need to talk to you about," the old wizard said. "Once you return from the dinner I want you to read this study and some regulations the Ministry is considering regarding the hours per week spent in teaching and making potions."
That sounded reasonable. "Certainly. I think I've heard of the study. The Swiss Institut has some bee in its bonnet about potions-making and health. A few members of the team there have written letters to Potions Monthly about their theories. I'm not sure why it would affect my work here at Hogwarts, though."
"The Ministry may decide to limit how long each week you can either teach or brew based on that study, Severus."
"Not necessarily. I will have to read what they're proposing, of course, but if they act with their usual speed and competence, we should have a couple of years yet."
"I still want you to look at them when you get back. Tomorrow morning, anyway."
"Of course, Headmaster. But you've shown that you can ignore the Ministry. We had to learn that for ourselves for most of last year. If you don't mind, sir, I need to get ready for the dinner." Good. That shot had gone home.
"Yes," said Dumbledore, who looked troubled. "I hope it turns out well.
You can't be hoping that any harder than I am, Headmaster, Snape thought as he went to his private quarters. The invitation had included the phrase "formal dress" underlined. Narcissa meant it. He picked out his best robes, dark green embroidered in silver at the sleeves, and a pale silvery vest over a white silk shirt. Dark green knee-breeches which had matching embroidery around the cuffs and white stockings completed the garb. He really thought the silver buckles on the shoes were too much, but sighed and put them on anyway. He deserved it for letting Lucius pick out clothing for him in the first place.
After a moment's thought, he put on his Potions Master emblem, a small silver cauldron on a green ribbon. He shortened the ribbon just a bit with his wand so the cauldron would lie against the shirt and not blend into the vest. His hair wasn't too bad tonight. Once he started his summer brewing in earnest, of course, it would revert to its usual horror. He also put some vials of various potions in his pockets. He might accidentally drink something alcoholic. Tonight he would need his wits as sharp as possible.
Fortunately he met no one in the hallways or on the grounds to make fun of his finery. Once past Hagrid's hut and into the Forest, he Apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor.
He was let in immediately and escorted to the door by the gate elf. That was unusual. Normally he was allowed to make his own way. His suspicions flared higher. What sort of games were being played tonight? Narcissa had no taste for the things that amused her husband, but she might not have as much power over the house as she ought to in her husband's absence.
Snape entered the hallway. Nobody was there to meet him, and from the sounds he heard, some of the guests were already there. He checked his invitation. He was right on time, neither early nor late.
Kreacher appeared and bowed to him before he entered the main dining-room. "Enter, honored guest," the scurfy house elf announced joyously.
Severus almost turned and left right then. What tales had the wretched elf told Narcissa about last year? What had he told Bellatrix, or the Dark Lord, for that matter? He was undoubtedly walking to his death. For a moment he hesitated.
"Come with me, Master Professor Snape. Everyone is waiting."
He sighed, and stepped forward. He didn't think that Narcissa knew of his mixed loyalties, or would betray him, but Kreacher might not have left her any choice. If it meant saving Draco, she would do anything. As he entered the room, he made sure he had quick access to his wand.
Severus Snape looked around the main dining room. The table was full, except for one seat left open at its head. Pettigrew was below the salt, while Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort were near Narcissa's seat just down from the empty chair. Draco was his mother's escort for the evening. Oh, surely, they aren't going to make the boy watch it! he thought in anguish.
Then they all stood and bowed towards him. What mockery was this? He made sure his face was blank as he bowed back and quietly let his wand slip into his right hand. The formalities must be observed.
"What is it that you would have of me tonight?" he asked in a neutral tone of voice as he straightened up, his right hand behind a fold of his robes.
"Why, to honor you, my boy," said the Dark Lord, his red eyes gleaming. "Your service last year to our cause was exemplary. At first I was angry because of the disaster at the Ministry. My plan to goad that wretched brat into facing me again worked perfectly. If you hadn't sabotaged those lessons the silly boy might have actually learned how to put me out of his mind, and that wouldn't have done at all. But at first I wondered if you had warned the Aurors to come. That, by the way, was my dear Pettigrew's theory. Then I realized that Black didn't show up till later, and that it was undoubtedly he that contacted them. Even if they didn't believe him, they would show up just to try to capture him again. Narcissa pointed out that whatever the dog's flaws, he was devoted to Potter and probably thought he could escape them again."
Snape nodded. A reasonable theory, provided one believed that Black had enough mental ability to come up with such a plan. He could not believe how long it had taken him to get it through Moody's head, as wooden as his second leg, that he was bloody serious and that it wasn't a deep plan to divert Aurors from the real threat. His only consolation was that Moody had had just as much fun convincing the others that he hadn't gone off the deep end himself. "My lord," he said, and went to one knee. "I am glad you do not suspect me of treachery."
"Not now. When this house elf told us of the long hours you spent deceiving the others and how you were treated by those you were supposed to be helping, I decided Wormtail was wrong. Because you were not at the raid, you have survived and stayed out of Azkaban, and may continue to spy on the old fool for us. Now stand, Severus Snape. Take your seat in the position of honor," the Dark Lord commanded.
"Enjoy the hospitality of this place as it was denied to you by the Order all last year," Narcissa added.
Snape did as he was told, and quickly put his wand back as he sat. He felt hideously awkward and exposed in Lucius's chair. Kreacher began serving. His plate was filled first, as was his goblet. He knew he would have to pretend to enjoy his food and drink. Narcissa must have told the kitchen what his favorites were, and he was certain this was the only time such plebian food would grace a Malfoy table. Granted, the pot pie was exquisitely prepared and tasted wonderful, while the plain hot bread and butter anchored it in his stomach. It still put him off a little to have everyone watching to see how much he enjoyed it. He sipped the cranberry juice, and mentally congratulated Narcissa on her tact, since the deep red color mimicked that of many fine wines. He drank wine or brandy only when with Lucius. His patron would insist. Severus had to admit that alcohol was the only thing that made being with the man bearable.
The others were served as well, though the Dark Lord had little on his plate. Everyone else enjoyed the French cuisine that the Malfoy house elves were famous for. Well, everyone except for Pettigrew, who looked at Snape's plate with envy, then applied himself to his own with grim determination. Severus was utterly certain that Kreacher hadn't been allowed within six feet of the kitchen save to carry out the food. Even Sirius Black had had the intelligence to prefer Molly Weasley's cooking.
After a bit he'd made a respectable dent in his dinner, though he rather hoped multiple courses weren't going to be involved. Severus wasn't sure how he'd last through those.
"In deference to the guest of honor, I've chosen dessert." Narcissa's silvery voice rang into the room. Kreacher came in with a plate of baklava with little pots of cream. Snape decided he had room for a small slice. He didn't know how much longer this farce would last, but he might as well enjoy it while it did.
Draco leaned forward. "I heard what Kreacher said about how you were treated by those rotten Gryffindors calling themselves the Order of the Phoenix all last year. I'm surprised you didn't hex them all."
So am I, Snape thought wryly. Was there a way to explain his continued loyalty to Dumbledore to Draco? He must find one soon, or lose another of his children to the Dark Lord's follies. "It was a temptation," he was forced to admit. "However, Madam Umbridge was such an interesting person that I was constantly distracted. Too many targets, not enough wands, you know how it goes. The Headmaster looks like Merlin beside her."
The boy made a face. "It was fun playing up to her, and so easy, too! But you know, even though they were Gryffs, everyone admired what the Weasley twins did. And when I heard how the Mudblood lured Umbridge to the centaurs like that—I wish I'd thought of it myself."
"You will need to be careful next year," Snape said. "The students will remember how you and the others conducted yourselves. That's why I tried to talk you idiots out of joining that Enforcer Squad. Thinking that Potter was easy meat on the train after he'd trained his friends to fight and established firm loyalties was also not very bright."
Draco grimaced. His mother patted his hand. "That's all right, dear," Narcissa said. "It took hardly any time at all to turn you and the other two back. And nobody at the Prophet would dare run those photos."
Snape hid a smirk and decided he wanted a set of pictures himself of "We Three Slugs of Slytherin Are". Just to remind the boy he wasn't invulnerable, of course. If only Draco wasn't so determined to be like his father!
Once everyone was finished, they adjourned to the magnificent sitting room. He was placed in Lucius's own chair. Again he felt exposed and awkward. No Knockturn Alley brat deserved this, as he had often been reminded in this very house.
The Dark Lord smiled with his thin reptilian lips. "I can tell that most of you have no idea what Severus endured last year in our service," he said, hefting a balloon of brandy in his left hand. Many wizards developed the habit of eating and drinking with only their left hand to keep their wand hand free, and Voldemort was no exception. Snape had deliberately eaten with his right at this table to show that he trusted the company around him. Somehow he had failed to mention through the years that there were some effective hexes he could cast with either hand.
He sat back and forced himself to endure Kreacher's prattle as the house elf told of all the miseries inflicted on the Potions Master over the last year. Many of this company rather enjoyed themselves hearing all this, he noticed. The elf also mentioned Moody's little jokes. "Master One-Eye, he thinks it funny to say Master Snape should be in prison. Not even Master Sirius laughs, so he stops. But everyone smiles."
"Tell us what kind of hospitality Professor Snape received there," Narcissa said.
"Nothing, nothing, only the right to enter the door," Kreacher said. "Nobody cares when Master Snape can't eat or drink, except the red-headed witch who yells so much. She offers him everything, but he can't have any because Master Sirius hasn't said he could. She gets Master Sirius to pass him the teapot, then he can drink, but no food, no rest. They ask him questions, he tells them the truth but they won't believe him. Master Snape uses his voice to say things so they think he is lying."
Bellatrix laughed then. "I can just see it! But why did you bother with the truth? You're one of the best liars I've ever known."
He answered her, but knew who else was listening. "Madam Umbridge was free in her use of Veritaserum. At certain doses, even I would succumb. Besides, they'll have to trust me even more once they realized I did tell them the truth. Then, of course…" He let them draw their own conclusions. Even Pettigrew smiled then.
"No wonder you're so thin," Narcissa said. "You must be worn to death with all your duties."
"Others have given their lives or their freedom to the cause, Lady Malfoy. Your sister has suffered a great deal more than I. Even now her husband is locked up with your own. My trials are minor compared to that."
"It's not like you to be so modest, Severus," Bella interrupted.
"It has been fourteen years since we last met and talked," Snape said. He quickly glanced at the Dark Lord, to see how he was taking this.
"And to think I almost had you killed when I first came back," Voldemort said casually. "What a waste that would have been." He swirled the brandy in his glass. "Lucius offered his life as a guarantee that you were loyal to us. Of course it would have been forfeit if he were wrong. I'm glad I listened to him now."
The room fell silent. Then Pettigrew spoke up. "I saw some of it, too. Kreacher let me in every once in a while to have a look. Gryffindors as far as the eye can see, well, except for Moody, of course, and then you. The Headmaster hasn't changed a bit. I'm surprised you're still at Hogwarts."
"I am useful," Snape said coldly, and stared down at more cranberry juice. That summed things up. "He makes a pretense of caring for even a lowly Slytherin or two, but when the crunch comes, we all know where his loyalties lie."
"Ah," said the Dark Lord. "Of course you understand. You always have. Don't worry, when our victory is final you may do as you like with the place except for the Potter boy. I was afraid last year that being around those others for so long had changed you. It is good to see that it hasn't."
"You certainly got an eyeful last year when Mr. Potter had his Occlumency lessons." How odd. He didn't feel the normal surge of fury when thinking of them now.
Voldemort smirked. "I could almost feel sorry for you, Severus, having him irritate you like that. I cannot understand how he's been able to thwart me for so long."
"As for that, my lord, do not underestimate Dumbledore," Snape said. They would believe him here as well as those as 12 Grimmauld Place. "Potter and his friends have been carefully protected even when their rashness should have gotten them killed years ago. Oh, it appears they have been in deadly peril. I am certain the three of them believe their own abilities have brought them through. But allow me to elucidate."
He warmed to his subject, confidence that no one here would learn the lesson he was trying to teach. "During Mr. Potter's first year, he required Mr. Weasley's chess playing ability to get near the chamber that held the Stone. One wonders if Professor McGonagall could have left a charm to make the game easier if the right player wandered on the field. Frankly, the only room on the way that absolutely required Mr. Potter was the one with the keys, and I've heard gossip that it was actually Miss Granger who caught the key. Now, isn't that absurd?"
"What about your own trap? How they'd get past that?" Pettigrew interrupted.
"Do you really expect to find logic in a first year? Remember, the Headmaster had the keys to all the traps, in case he required access to the Stone himself. No doubt the group acquired a crib of some sort, possibly through Hagrid. The giant is astoundingly careless at times. Frankly, I wasn't surprised to learn that Quirrell managed either the game or the other obstacles. He likely received assistance as well," he said, nodding towards Voldemort.
"Then why did Quirrell fail to get the Stone out from the Mirror? And why didn't you help him?" The Dark Lord glowered a bit.
"First of all, Quirrell must have wanted the Stone for himself, while I understand Mr. Potter only wanted to give it back to the Headmaster. Why the old fool didn't just keep it off the grounds somewhere, I have no idea. Secondly, I had no idea you were there, my lord. You gave me no word of your own." He decided to allow a little self-pity in his voice. "I realize you had no way of realizing I was still loyal to you, of course, but it was a long time. I had to make my position at Hogwarts secure. Even now, the old fool can throw me back into Azkaban with a word. But as you see, Mr. Potter certainly does not appear to possess any special power or essence. The next year, of course, he was given the Sword of Gryffindor and then rescued by Fawkes. The year after that, there were so many Dementors surrounding the castle…" He took a deep breath, and hoped his hands weren't shaking. "The only reason I can look back at it now is because Black is dead. I had to be circumspect in my rejoicing, of course, but rejoice I have." That was one honest emotion he could express here and nowhere else.
Bella grinned outright. "You're not the only one! Fortunately we haven't been constrained the way you have."
Snape noticed, though, that Pettigrew was quiet as the animagus eased himself off into a corner and looked down at his silver hand. There were two Marauders left, and one day they would meet in battle.
"And the fourth year?" the Dark Lord asked coldly.
"No one knew about Barty Crouch or the brother wands. You will notice how much you gained from that confrontation, my lord. Perhaps he should not have been able to escape, but as I have often pointed out, he is often aided beyond his own merits. As for last year, you know what I did and how I served you all. Black might have been able to think straight and listen to reason if it had come from anyone but me. However, it was absurdly easy to make sure he was always angry whenever I had something to say. Kreacher will tell you how often I stung his courage. That made him furious with his captivity. Our conflict also made it more difficult for the others to believe me, even when I told them the truth. Especially Potter," he added smugly. "It wasn't very hard to sabotage his lessons. Fortunately your occasional presence kept him upset, and the truthful visions you sent him lured the brat into seeking more. I left my pensieve out on purpose, knowing he would snoop. This gave me the perfect excuse to throw a tantrum and refuse to give him any more lessons. You will notice that only the arrival of the Aurors from the Ministry and Dumbledore himself kept you from obliterating all those idiotic students."
Voldemort looked pleased. Then he frowned. "Yet the Prophecy has been lost. What did it say? How can I recover it?"
Snape was glad the Dark Lord was still obsessing over it. Riddle could have spent last year building up his strength rather than chasing a phantom. Perhaps he ought to find a false one to content his master. "I shall try to find out, my lord. Trelawney is currently gone, but will return. It was obvious a memory charm was used on her so she would forget it. I tried to give her a potion last year to help her recover the prophecy, but alcohol negated the effects. Madam Umbridge drove her to overindulge, and I can't say I blame her."
Everyone in earshot rolled their eyes. "If our enemies don't destroy us, then our families will," Narcissa said with a sigh.
Snape nodded. "One last thing. Mr. Potter now lacks a Wizarding guardian with the death of Sirius Black. His aunt is barely a Squib, if that much. The only natural candidate to replace the dogfather is Remus Lupin, the werewolf. Imagine the fate of that application!"
Narcissa Malfoy smiled gently. "It would be a pity to leave the poor boy unprotected, don't you think?"
Bella laughed. The Dark Lord looked thoughtful. "You aren't speaking of Potter with your usual venom."
"How can I serve you unless I have mastery over myself?" Snape said sincerely. "In addition, the old fool threatened me with Azkaban unless I mend fences, at least in public. It distresses me when Dumbledore is correct, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day. Besides, I don't actually have to stop hating the boy. I merely have to behave correctly to him and his wretched friends. However, I wanted you to know the reason for this change before you found it out second-hand. I am tired of being suspected all the time."
"As you found out last year, no doubt," Voldemort said. "The rest of you, please go. I wish to speak to Severus in private."
The others left. Snape knew the real interrogation was beginning now. Fortunately he had furnished his mind with the proper attitudes. It had not been terribly difficult to fill it this time with resentment towards almost everyone at Hogwarts, including the Headmaster. The leash was tighter than usual just now, but it had always been there.
He winced in pain as the Dark Lord's Legilimens crashed into his mind. This master had never been subtle, unlike his other one. The impact of Voldemort's magic nearly crushed him this time. Sometimes I wish the old fool could feel this for himself! He'd realize then just how easy I went on his damned precious Potter!
Severus was forced to relive all the nasty bits from last year he'd left out for show—every humiliation by Sirius Black, the utter weariness from his dreadful schedule, and his loathing of Umbridge. He hoped he'd buried most of the memories of Lucius too deep for anyone to see. He would never leave this place if anyone knew his real reason for going back to Malfoy this last year.
At last it was over. Snape slumped in the chair, too shaky to lift a finger. "I hope you are satisfied, my lord," he whispered.
"Oh, Severus," Voldemort hissed. "It was worse than Kreacher told us. Hogwarts isn't much better than Azkaban for you, is it?"
"We had Dementors there only one year," Snape said. "There are children there all the time." He supposed that was a joke."
"And how you love your Slytherins. Only you could have protected them so well after what you went through at Gryffindor hands. Those years of service have not been wasted, Severus. I am sorry I ever doubted you. You shall be honored second only to those who went to prison for my sake."
Snape slid out of his chair and went to his knees, head bowed. The Dark Lord adored that kind of thing. "I beg you to forgive me my doubts, my lord. No one believed you were coming back."
"How terribly lonely you have been, my Shadow," Voldemort said, his scaly hand ruffling Snape's hair. "Once we have come into our kingdom, you shall have the choice of any woman you please. Oh, don't tense up like that. I know your preferences when Lucius isn't around. A line as old as yours ought to be continued. I shall heap enough honor and wealth on you to make it easier for you to find a worthy mate. And have regard for your health, Severus. You do not look well. Take time to indulge yourself when you can. You don't always have to return right away after a meeting, you know. I shall be pleased to arrange a diversion for you some night and call it business. I know you don't like blood or pain, the way some of the others do. Lucius will understand, or if he does not, I will explain it to him."
The Potions Master began to tremble. "I don't know what I've done to deserve such grace, my lord. Whatever you ask of me will be done."
"Of course. But I won't deliver you back to the other guests in such a state. Ennervate!"
Snape felt strong enough to get to his feet, strong enough to keep from vomiting up his fine dinner. Why does it have to be the Dark Lord who treats me so well? Why can't I have this back at Hogwarts or with the Order? Of course this isn't real. I know what he's really like. But what I had with the Headmaster wasn't real, either.
He spent another hour being told how much he meant to them by the rest of the guests. Even Pettigrew sought him out, though Severus would rather have declined the honor. Both of them had betrayed their friends—Pettigrew, the Potters, and he, most of the people here.
Then again, the Death Eaters only pretended to friendship. He was used to that. As far as he could tell, Potter had really liked Wormtail. Yet, had he? His own memories of the four showed that Pettigrew had always seemed nervous, as if he felt the others were ready to abandon him at any time.
"I'm no good at this kind of party," Peter said quietly, glancing at the others. He nervously flexed his silver hand. "I hate walking around a place this fancy. I always feel like I'm going to knock something expensive off a table and break it."
Snape suppressed a smile as he thought of Tonks, who could destroy thousands of Galleons worth of art just by walking through this room. He understood Wormtail, though. "The first Christmas I stayed here I did just that," he said. "Nobody said anything, but you can imagine the looks." If the Dark Lord thought he could cement loyalty with a bit of false kindness, it couldn't hurt to try the same with Pettigrew.
The animagus looked into the shadows outside his window. "I never thought you'd bother with me after everything. I mean, the Marauders and all."
"Padfoot and Moony tried to kill you, too. I've been in that spot before! Besides, you proved yourself worthy with the sacrifice you made to bring our Lord back to his body," Snape said smoothly. "You should be honored for that," he added, and raised his glass. A little flattery might go a long way with someone who likely got little of it. It had certainly worked with him.
"You're in a good mood tonight," Wormtail observed.
"You're not a student or a Marauder any more." Yes, he was glad he'd removed most of his memories of Lily, or he would surely want to strangle this man. "And we're both servants of our Lord. We should work together."
Pettigrew nodded, and looked slightly less glum. "Well, I'm just glad not be a pet any more. Try being owned by the twins. I barely survived that."
Severus bit his lip to keep from laughing. He could just imagine how interesting that had been. "My condolences. I only had to teach them." Then he told Wormtail about their truly magnificent departure. Even the rat smile after hearing that story. Good. The more people who despise Umbridge, the better.
"'Give 'em our best, Peeves!'" Pettigrew quoted. "Merlin, we could have used a pair like that with us when we were students!"
Severus forbore to remind the rat just who had been on the receiving end of the Marauders' pranks. The Weasley twins had never been malicious, and never concentrated on a single victim, not even a perfect one like Longbottom. "They offered endless hours of entertainment," he offered dryly.
"But it was safer for me with Percy or Ron," Peter said.
"Not just for you," Snape replied. He nodded a farewell, noticing that Narcissa was gesturing for him to come over. "We'll speak again."
Narcissa had some papers out on the dining room table, which had been cleared off already. The Dark Lord looked on with amusement, and Bellatrix Lestrange with fury. "We've spoken about your remark about Potter needing a guardian," said Lucius's wife.
"And?" Snape asked.
"You know, of course, that my idiot cousin Sirius left everything to the Potter boy, except for some money for Lupin. We've come up with a strategy, and want you to hear it. It is incredible, after all, that the Black family home will be removed from our blood after so long. I intend to contest the will on my own behalf, and that of my sister."
"Do you think it wise to remind the Ministry of her existence?" Snape asked. "If you can be proved to know her location, you might be pressured to reveal it. It would be best to file a counterclaim under your name alone."
"What? A fine way to treat me!" Bella glared at him.
"Madam Lestrange, you know your sister will see you are taken care of," Severus said, with his voice on soothe. As long as your family home is kept out of the hands of strangers, does it really matter so much who does it? It will also make a difference if there is an entail on the home or on any other property."
Bella calmed down. Narcissa sighed. "Obviously, I don't have a clue how to manage this. Those wretched goblins are already dragging their feet whenever I need something from Gringotts. Oh, how I wish Lucius were free! He'd give them some of their own medicine!"
"Perhaps Severus can act as your representative," the Dark Lord suggested. "I believe our Potions Master is the only person I've ever known to make a goblin cry."
"That was an accident, my lord. He jostled me, and a vial fell out and broke. It really was the fumes, as much as I would like to think otherwise." Snape remembered that glorious day. Of course, he had decided to carry that particularly noxious potion then, knowing he would have to deal with Snaptooth about his own account.
"Well, what would you do?" Narcissa asked.
"First, make the Ministry prove that Black is actually dead. There isn't a body, and most of the witnesses to his fall behind the Veil are underage, or otherwise unavailable." Of course, if they chose to forget that Auror Nymphadora Tonks was close by, that was not his problem. "After all, despite his protests, young Potter stands to gain from his godfather's death. A case could be made that his friends are only too willing to support his claim no matter what happened. This will give us time to determine what to do next." Delay. Delay was his only chance to find a way out of this situation. Why in the name of Merlin he had even mentioned the guardianship issue he had no idea. One would think he was a Gryffindor who wanted to show off.
Bella smiled, though not pleasantly. "Oh, Snape, you're still the smartest Slytherin alive," she said. Then she clearly realized her mistake. "Aside from our Lord, of course."
"I live to serve," Severus said, hoping Narcissa wouldn't jump from contesting the will to pursuing a claim to guardianship of Potter. He certainly didn't plan to suggest it.
"I shall send the paperwork appointing you my representative to Gringotts," Narcissa said as she gathered all the scrolls together.
"I will do my best," he said.
"You had better," the Dark Lord said softly.
As if I need reminding! Snape thought. He stood. "I have enjoyed this gathering very much," he said.
"But you need to leave. You are always welcome here, Severus," Narcissa said, standing as well. "You have long had the hospitality of this Manor. I now formally renew it. Door, hearth, table and bed are yours for the claiming at your need or desire," she added, using the ancient formula. The look in her eyes said more.
He bowed over her hands. "And I accept gratefully," he said, hoping he would never need to. His life was complicated enough already.
'Severus," said Voldemort. "Do not forget that we will gather soon after Midsummer. Normally I do not announce such things ahead of time, but you will be taking a leading part in the ceremonies that night."
"I am honored, my lord," Snape said, trying to look that way instead of terrified. He suspected what sort of night it would be. "Our numbers are too few with so many captured by the Ministry. No doubt it is time to replenish them." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Narcissa go white.
"You have guessed correctly, Severus," the Dark Lord said. "You will stand as sponsor for most of them, as Lucius did for you, both when you first joined and then when you returned. Naturally, you won't know the meeting place. But it will be a truly appropriate one."
"Of course, my lord," Snape said, and bowed over Voldemort's hands as well. "But I fear I must depart now. The old fool will be curious how I spent the evening." He was having trouble hiding his rage at being chosen the Judas goat to lead his students into captivity. If he stayed much longer, he was going to ruin more valuable things than Tonks could.
"Remember how we cherish you, Severus. Compare it to how you were treated last year, and for many years before," said Voldemort softly. "You have been alone for too long. We were your friends when you were younger. Return to our embrace, the way you have to Lucius."
Snape tried to look enthralled at the prospect instead of horrified as he left the room, the Manor, and the grounds. He landed in the Forbidden Forest, and quickly lost his supper behind a tree. Feelings, he thought to himself. I haven't rid myself of them well enough, obviously. Well, I know the cure for that. The pensieve in his chambers had room for more memories. Once he restructured some of the walls in his mind, he could fit many others behind a shelter where they would never bother him.
He wiped his mouth and rinsed it out with a cleansing potion he'd brought along just in case. Then he sighed. It was time to change the furniture again, so his other master would also see what he wanted to. For a moment he wished that Lockhart could just hit him with one of his patented Global Obliviates. Then he began walking towards the Headmaster's office to report.