Catching Up

"Hey, Dad?" Hadrian said as he came into the potions class. It was Saturday, and everyone else was off, doing other things. Severus looked at his son for a moment, wondering at the intent look on the boy's face.

"What's up, Hadrian?" the Potions Master asked as he approached the child.

"Draco was telling me that magicals can earn things by right of conquest. Is this true?"

"It is," Severus said with a sigh, leading his son to their private quarters. They sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace with Severus summoning an elf for refreshments. "When someone defeats another in a duel, or in some way kills another in battle, the winner is able to claim property from the loser by right of conquest. The practice has been out of favor for a few centuries, since it was used by less reputable people to try and rob the wealthy of their properties and goods."

"It's still a thing, though," Hadrian said after a moment. When his father nodded, the child continued. "Draco said that I am now Slytherin's heir by right of conquest, since Voldemort was 'defeated' when I was a baby, and everyone seems to believe I was the one who achieved this miracle." Once again, Severus nodded his understanding. "However, I believe that you and Lucius are the true Slytherin heirs by right of conquest, since you eliminated him permanently."

Severus ruminated over his son's comments carefully, wondering if, perhaps, it was true. Rising, he threw floo powder into the firebox, calling for Lucius. After a few moments, the blond's head breached the flames, looking at Snape curiously. "Hadrian has come to me with a bit of a conundrum," he said softly. "I believe you should come through so that we may discuss it."

"It is lucky for you, old friend, that I happen to have some free time. I will be there in a tick." The flames subsided to their normal color for a moment, then flared again as Malfoy stepped through, banishing the ash and soot that had clung to his robes. He looked at the Snapes for a moment, then sat on the sofa to the other side of the preteen. Hadrian repeated what he'd said to his father, and Lucius thought for a moment, flicking through the information that he was made to memorize when he was a child.

"You, by rights, are the Slytherin's heir by conquest," the blond finally told the raven-haired child. "Since it was, technically, you who had 'vanquished' him the first time, the spoils go to you."

"But I didn't really do anything, Uncle Lucius," Hadrian replied heatedly. "It was my mum's spell that protected me, so she should be the one. Besides, he wasn't really gone, so the heirship should belong to you and Father, since the both of you permanently eliminated him."

"As this is a rather circular argument," Severus finally chimed in, "why don't we go to the experts. I'm sure that there are some in the Ministry who are very familiar with arcane laws. Perhaps you should speak with one of them, Lucius, and see if we can find some answers. I'm afraid that Hadrian won't let this go until his questions have been fully answered."

"I've spoken with the Unspeakable that removed the horcrux from you, Hadrian," Lucius told him as the pair sat in the blond's office at Malfoy Manor. Everyone was home for the weekend, Lucius having returned a couple of hours earlier from the Ministry. "According to him, Severus and I are now Slytherin's heirs by conquest. It seems that the person has to actually die before the conquest ruling can be put into place."

"Good," the raven barked with a satisfied smile. "You and Dad earned that honor fairly, since you did the hardest work to save us all."

"So what happens now?" Hermione asked softly. She was over for the day; her father was setting up his woodworking business and her mother was in a meeting with several other muggleborn women, designing clothing and working out the details of their shop.

"Now, we go to Gringotts with the verification from the Ministry, and get an accounting of the inheritances," Severus told the girl with a small smirk. "I have a few ideas, though, so why don't you children run along until we're ready to go." Snape waited for the kids to depart before turning to his friend with a smirk.

"What are you up to, Severus?" he asked softly, eyebrow quirked. Remus and Sirius both snickered at the slightly terrified gleam in Malfoy's eyes.

"Slytherin was a brilliant potioneer," the dark man began happily. "I am quite sure that there are a plethora of journals with his own personal recipes in them. I am looking forward to experimenting. My share of the money and properties will be put into trust for Hadrian."

"Good idea," the blond said, nodding his head thoughtfully. "I'd like to see if there are any treatises that he and Godric had developed. They were quite involved with the politics of the time. Perhaps there are some ideas that they had that would be worth implementing now. As well, I'll put my half into a trust for Draco."

"Did Dumbledore's lawyers ever get paid?" Sirius asked softly. It was a few days before Hallowe'en, and everyone was looking forward to the feast.

"I believe they did," Severus replied, thinking. "As Albus was technically found not guilty, he had to have paid them. It would have automatically come from his vaults as soon as the ruling was made official."

"About that," Remus contributed. "Why not incarcerate him in Azkaban?"

"Because of the not guilty verdict," Severus repeated a little impatiently. "He was deemed mentally ill, and our world does not incarcerate the mentally ill, or the developmentally or intellectually challenged. Azkaban is a nightmare for sane, intelligent wizards and witches; imagine what it would be like for those who had no real capacity to fight off the dementors."

"Fair enough," the werewolf mumbled, chastened. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Severus arrived in an alley near Privet Drive and instantly disillusioned himself before striding up to the plain, two story house at number four. He stealthily stalked around the domicile, careful not to make any noise that would alert the occupants or the nearby neighbors to his presence, looking for a way in. The back door stood wide open in the weed-infested, overgrown yard, and the Potions Master stepped through the portal and into the kitchen, eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the gloom. He listened carefully before locating the owners in the living room, and made his quiet slow way there to see what his spells had wrought.

Vernon was in his black leather recliner, a shell of what he once was. His body was emaciated, and his eyes were sunken in. The gradual starvation spell Severus had placed on him had done its job too well, and the man was near death. He had lost his job three years earlier; the company was sure he was using drugs which caused the weight loss. Despite reports from his internist, as well as concurring opinions from other internists, Grunnings refused to hire him back. They were afraid that his appearance would 'scare off potential clients'.

Petunia had refused to even touch Vernon after the spells were cast on her. Afraid of becoming endlessly pregnant, she made up one of the other bedrooms and moved herself and her things into it. She kept the door locked the entire time she was in there, to keep Vernon from trying to 'convince' her to service him. In the ensuing years, Dursley had engaged in many torrid affairs to try and slake his lusts. At first, whilst he was still enormous, none but the most desperate hooker would touch him. As he lost the weight, he became more attractive, and was able to score quite a few single ladies in the neighborhood.

Petunia endured; she loved her husband, and didn't want to lose him by being stupid. His continual weight loss, however, started to drive his paramours away; they became disgusted with his slack, loose skin and sallow coloring. As well, the affairs never satisfied because none of the women were Petunia, the woman to whom he was married and loved wholeheartedly. Petunia, herself, never opened her legs for anyone; too afraid that she would become pregnant. As Severus riffled through their minds and saw everything he needed to know, he nodded his head in satisfaction, knowing that the punishment was eminently suitable.

"Amelia, I've been meaning to talk to you," Lucius came into the woman's office. She immediately rose to her feet in respect, bowing her head.

"How may I help you, Minister Malfoy?"

"Last year, when Miss Hermione Granger came to Hogwarts, she had told us on the train that she was able to practice all of her spells, and perfect them, before she came to school. I know that there is a Trace placed on the children's wands so that they may not use magic outside the school, but evidently they don't work if she was able to use her wand, and in a muggle neighborhood, no less."

"Let me look up the particulars of that, Minister, and I'll meet you in your office as soon as I have the information." Two hours later, the pair were in the Minister's office, discussing the troubling information before them. "It appears that the Trace is activated on the wand as soon as the kids cross the threshold of Hogwarts," she told the other man softly. "Ollivander was instructed to place a dormant monitoring charm on every wand he makes that will activate as soon as the magic of the school is contacted.

"This does not prevent any of the students from using their wands before first year, which explains how most of the purebloods were able to teach their children. I understand that wards around their homes helped to keep the magic use undetected; however, when the children were outside the wards, they were able to use their wands without punishment."

"We will need to fix that," Lucius muttered, displeased. "We cannot have muggleborns using magic in front of muggles without some sort of consequence."

"I agree. I think we should place an active monitoring charm on the wand and make sure that it is linked with the child who owns it. The charm will activate as soon as the wand crosses Ollivander's threshold. We'll need to set up a separate oversight department for this, as the Unspeakables would be stretched thin to be responsible for this as well as the myriad other duties they perform."

"Good idea," Malfoy told the woman with a smile. "I think it should be part of the DMLE, and I am sure that you could round up enough bodies to keep an eye on this. Ask some of the muggleborns for ideas on how to do this as efficiently as possible."

"As you wish, Minister."

"I would like to speak to you about your mother, Albus," Cherien said softly. The mulish look on the former headmaster's face deepened. They had just finished talking about his father's incarceration and death in Azkaban, which had brought up many feelings of rage for the man stupidly getting himself arrested. Now the old biddy wanted to talk about his mum.

"I don't have anything to say about her," he grumbled, arms crossed petulantly. She sighed softly before marshaling a smile on her face.

"Why are you so angry with Kendra?" she persisted. "What did she do that was so horrible?"

"She allowed Father to be taken away," he snapped furiously. "She did absolutely nothing to prevent his arrest, and then did absolutely nothing to take care of us. I was ten years old, for Merlin's sake, and I was expected to be the man of the family. Ariana was so badly damaged by those gods-be-damned muggle boys that she endangered all of us. Her uncontrollable magic came out at the most inopportune moments, and risked our safety and our lives. Would Mother do anything about her? NO! She could have locked her away in an asylum; she could have gently put my sister out of her, and our, misery. She did none of it. She let Ariana do what she wanted, and left me to do damage control." The meeting devolved into more selfish rants, and Cherien finally called an end to it, flooing away to turn in her weekly report.

"Treatment's not going well," Phineas told Minerva. He stopped at her office first before going on to the Ministry to make his report. "Albus blames his mother and sister for everything, and refuses to accept that they were human beings, with faults and problems. He even went so far as to say that his mother should have terminated his sister's life, to save them the trouble of taking care of her in her infirmity."

"So the issues stem from childhood," Minerva murmured thoughtfully. "We need to try and get those psychologists' reports. We need to find out what wasn't revealed at the trial. Albus may not be treatable."

Turtle popped into the potions lab two hours before the second year Slytherins and Gryffindors were to enter for class, putting a contact poison on the seats, desks and cauldrons in the classroom. The potion would have made the children very sick, and the magical signature attached to the poison was close enough to Severus Snape's that it would fool the Aurors and Ministry. Albus had instructed his elf to apply the potion, to get the Potions Master out of the castle so that he could have better access to Hadrian.

Fortunately, Dobby was present and watching the oblivious elf doing his mischief; Draco's elf was under a strong elf invisibility spell, augmented by the Malfoy protections, which rendered him undetectable. Draco's paladin watched carefully as the bad elf continued to slick the liquid on every surface that would come into contact with the children, then watched with wide eyes as the intruder hopped in place in happy celebration for his success.

"You is being a bad, bad elf," Dobby snarled as he came into view. Turtle squeaked and dropped the container, the glass shattering and spraying potion everywhere. From the back room came Severus, Sirius and Remus, rage contorting their faces. Dumbledore's cohort looked around himself fearfully, knowing that he was in truly deep shit.