Chapter Thirty-nine: Social Education

Severus shifted uncomfortably in the unfamiliar dress robes. He and Lucius arrived in the hall, as promised, ten minutes before the guests, and stood next to the fireplace while Abraxas reiterated what Lucius had already told Severus—speak only when spoken to.

The doorbell rang, and murmured voices floated toward them as Mikin lead the guests into the dining hall. A trio of company: a couple about Abraxas's age, and a young man Severus guessed was a few years older than Lucius.

"Yaxley, glad to see you've made it." Abraxas shook the older man's hand before turning to the woman accompanying him. "Levina, it's always a pleasure."

Lucius smirked almost imperceptibly as Abraxas leaned in and kissed Levina's cheek. Yaxley's shoulders tensed, and the younger man's jaw tightened, but neither said a word.

"And young Corban. I'm pleased you could make it," Abraxas said, nodding to the younger man.

Corban sniffed. "This is the place to be, so I'm told. Mother and Father are keen on getting me into the Ministry."

Yaxley straightened his shoulders. "Yes, son, there will be plenty of time for that sort of discussion—later."

Abraxas's lip curled up. "Indeed. First, you all know Lucius—" he gestured to his son, and the trio greeted him and nodded. "And this is Severus Snape. His family has sorely neglected introducing him to the right families, and we've decided to rectify that."

Severus inclined his head as the Yaxleys turned to him, but said nothing.

"Snape?" Yaxley asked, his lip creeping up in a sneer. "I seem to remember a couple of Snapes at school with us. Which one spawned this boy?"

"The younger," Abraxas said, "Silias."

"Oh, yes." Yaxley's sneer intensified, the blue in his eyes darkening as they studied Severus from head to toe. "All the more reason to leave him in the gutter, Malfoy."

Severus bristled. He took a step forward, but stopped when Lucius elbowed him, shifting only his eyes to Severus and moving his head barely an inch to either to either side. The message was clear: leave it.

Abraxas chuckled. "Oh, Severus has already proven himself much more—valuable—then his father."

Yaxley laughed. "Praise indeed, if Abraxas Malfoy finds value in you, boy. I look forward to seeing what he means."

Severus said nothing, but his hand still itched to grab his wand.

"Shall we sit?" Abraxas asked, gesturing to the dining table. He called for Mikin as they settled around the table, and within seconds, the bowls in front of them filled with soup.

Severus picked up his spoon, but Lucius, sitting beside him, kicked him sharply and looked pointedly at his father.

Abraxas had his hands folded in front of him, spoon untouched. Nobody else had as much as moved their silverware. Severus frowned. He wanted to ask Lucius why they were all waiting, but it became clear when Abraxas picked up his spoon and the others around the table did the same.

What the hell is going on? Not once, in any of his visits, had this happened. If Severus hadn't sworn to Lucius he'd be silent, he'd have been peppering him with questions.

And sitting in silence as they ate was torture. The adults talked about trivial things—Mrs. Yaxley's mother had been in poor health for some time, it seemed, and Mr. Yaxley had recently acquired a treasure trove of old manuscripts for his library.

Severus grew bored. He hoped this wasn't what the whole summer was going to be like. He'd almost rather be home. At least there he was allowed to speak.

"Theories are all well and good, Levina, but what he wants is results," Abraxas said.

Mrs. Yaxley snorted and shook her head. "And I want an endless supply of unicorn blood. Perhaps you can remind Lord Voldemort keeping our shop stocked takes all of my time."

Severus sat up straighter in his chair and glanced at Lucius. The older boy concentrated on his soup, a smirk playing around his lips. He caught Severus's eye and winked. Severus looked back into his own soup bowl, heart racing. The adults seemed to have forgotten the boys were there.

Mr. Yaxley shot a warning look to his wife. "What she means is she doesn't have the spare time just yet, isn't that right, Levina?"

"Since that's what I said, dear, I believe Abraxas understood." Mrs. Yaxley's stare was even harder than her husband's.

"Not in those terms, darling." He emphasized the endearment. Beside Severus, Lucius's smirk grew.

"I believe Levina made herself plain," Abraxas said. He laid his soup spoon to the side and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his thumb over the bottom of his chin. "And if you suddenly had time, Levina? When could we expect progress?"

"I'm not selling my shop, Abraxas."

"Of course not! We would never dream of asking that of you. But surely an apprentice—"

Mrs. Yaxley barked out a short laugh and sniffed. "Apprentices are more trouble than they're worth. They don't save time—they often cost me more of it."

Abraxas's jaw was tight, his nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. Severus braced himself for the backlash he knew was coming.

"Perhaps you haven't found the right candidate." Abraxas's voice was even, not a hint of irritation or displeasure. Severus blinked. Mrs. Yaxley had interrupted him, and Abraxas was acting like it didn't matter at all.

I've never really seen him angry, Severus thought. I only know what Lucius has told me. Maybe Abraxas didn't lash out when he was upset. Severus wondered how he kept calm.

"There is no proper candidate," Mrs. Yaxley said. "I don't want some half-trained bumbler to come into my workroom and disrupt my work. I'll find some time. It just won't be as quickly as any of us would like."

"Perhaps I haven't made myself plain," Abraxas said smoothly. "You'll take an apprentice, Levina."

"Like hell I will."

Corban snickered, cutting it short when his father elbowed him. Mr. Yaxley gave a pointed stare to his wife and inclined his head toward Corban.

She growled. "I take it you have someone in mind, Abraxas?"

"I do. He's an unorthodox choice—younger than you might expect—but he's quite adept with Potions. Malichi Melison has been giving him advanced lessons."

Severus froze. they talking about him? He looked at Lucius. The older boy raised an eyebrow and grinned. An apprenticeship? He'd been keen on getting away from home, but that was to spend all summer with Lucius, and in the library here, not being made to scrape the bottoms of barrels of rat tails for free. But Mrs. Yaxley had mentioned a shop, which meant she probably ran an apothecary. Maybe an apprenticeship meant he might handle obscure ingredients that Melison didn't keep in his stores, experiment, even—his heart raced, waiting for confirmation.

"A student?" Mrs. Yaxley rolled her eyes. "I suppose if he's in Melison's NEWT-level classes, he might not burn down the shop, at least."

"He's not quite there," Abraxas said.

"Merlin, Abraxas, don't tell me you're trying to pass a fifth year onto me."

Abraxas's eyes slid to Severus. All attention suddenly focused on him. Corban guffawed. Mr. Yaxley's eyes narrowed, studying Severus with a new interest. Mrs. Yaxley frowned.

"You've got to be joking," Mrs. Yaxley said, whipping her head back toward Abraxas. "He's an infant."

Severus's fist clenched around his spoon.

"Hardly," Abraxas said. "He's starting his third year at Hogwarts in September."

"He's still a child, Abraxas. I won't have him mucking around in my workroom. I still don't allow Corban in there, and he's my own son."

"Mostly because I'm a menace with Potions," Corban said, the grin still firmly affixed to his face.

His mother shot him a withering stare. The smile faded.

"You'll find him more than capable," Abraxas said. "Melison does not give advanced lessons to just anyone, Levina. Think about that for a moment."

Severus felt a twinge of guilt as he realized he was being talked up for things that weren't entirely true. Of course, acknowledging that his advanced lessons were actually Occlumency lessons would mean breaking his word to his Uncle and to Melison.

Mrs. Yaxley turned again to stare at him. Her eyes were thin slits, her mouth curled down into a frown. The muscles in her jaw flexed as her gaze traversed his face.

"What does Melison have you do in these lessons, boy?"

Severus straightened his shoulders, focused on believing the lie he was about to tell, then met her eyes. "We brew advanced potions, Madam Yaxley. Theorize and talk about the newest advances, sometimes we experiment."

Her eyes flashed. "That's very vague. So you talk about the newest advances, do you? What does the old man think about Grimsby's take on synthetic unicorn blood?"

Severus's chest constricted. He'd read the Potions Monthly that Grimsby's article had been in, but he hadn't had a chance to discuss it with his Head of House. "We haven't talked about it, Madam."

She sighed and turned back to Abraxas. "Useless, Abraxas. That Grimsby article was out almost a year ago. If he was serious—"

"But I thought it was a bit rubbish," Severus broke in. He swallowed as Abraxas's eyes glinted at him like steel, the edges of his jaw sharply outlined from tautness of the muscles. He'd broken the one rule Abraxas had given him.

Mrs. Yaxley studied him. "Go on, then."

Severus looked to Abraxas. Lucius's father still looked furious, but he gave a terse nod.

"Well, he talks about being able to isolate the elements of unicorn blood that enhance magical potency, mostly for potions, but that's not really feasible, is it? You can't really pinpoint the magical properties of anything. It just is."

Mrs. Yaxley cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. "You missed the entire point of the article, boy." She turned back to Abraxas. "He'd be a waste of my time. I won't have him."

"Please, Madam, but perhaps you missed the point." It was out before he could stop himself. Abraxas leaned forward in his chair, his frown growing. Lucius's grin was gone, his forehead creased as he stared at Severus incredulously.

"Grimsby talks about experimenting with different ingredients to replicate the effects. But that's been researched for ages, and nobody has cracked it yet. The article was a waste of space."

Mrs. Yaxley licked her lips and cocked her head to the side. A little of the annoyance had gone from her stare. "And what would you suggest instead? Clearly you have theories."

Severus blushed. "Well, I hadn't really thought—"

"Do," she said, leaning back in her chair.

The soup bowls vanished from the table, leaving empty plates. Severus stared at his plate, his mind spinning. It was all theoretical, synthetic unicorn blood. Wizards had tried for a thousand years to replicate it, with no success. What were his theories next to a thousand years of experimentation?

"I suppose it's already been thought of, but what if you could use a spell to enhance the potions, rather than just the ingredients?"

Mr. Yaxley huffed. "No such spell exists."

The hairs on the back of Severus's hands prickled. No such spell exists. "Then you create one," he said quietly.

The room went silent. Even Lucius lifted his head, his mouth open slightly.

"Create a spell," Mrs. Yaxley said, her voice flat. "As if it's the easiest thing in the world."

"Of course it isn't easy," Severus said. "I haven't quite cracked it yet, but—"

"You haven't cracked it yet?" Corban blurted out. "Mother, the kid is clearly out of his mind."

"Be quiet, Corban," Mrs. Yaxley said sharply. "Do you mean to say that you've been mucking around with spell creation?"

Severus's eyes darted around the table. Should he confess and say it was Nikolas's idea? But Avery couldn't get it to work at all. I did.

"A bit," he said. "I've been trying to find resources on it, but—"

"You've come up empty," Abraxas finished.

"Yes, sir."

"And have you seen any progress?" Mrs. Yaxley asked.

"Enough to know it's possible."

A ghost of a smile passed over her face, and she turned back to Abraxas. "He'll do. And what of his parents? They'd have to sign the paperwork."

"Leave that to me," Abraxas said.

Severus bristled, taking the edge off the excitement the discussion had brought. He ought to have a say in how he spent his summers.

"If you're so inclined, Severus, you can start in a fortnight," Mrs. Yaxley said.

All eyes turned to him again. He fidgeted and cleared his throat. "I—what would I have to do?"

She smirked. "For a few hours a day, you'd come to the shop and do whatever it is that Mr. Yaxley needs doing. You'd learn the ins and outs of running an apothecary."

"Oh."

"And for a few more hours, you'd be in the workroom with me, assisting with anything I need. Potions for the shop, special orders—theoretical and practical experiments." Her smirk increased with the excited widening of his eyes. "Yes, he'll do," she repeated quietly.

"So? Does that suit you, Severus?" Abraxas asked.

Severus managed a nod and a barely audible 'yes, sir'. He looked at Lucius—his friend grinned at him.

"I said you were going to love this summer, didn't I?"

Another feeble nod. Any guilt he had for leaving home vanished. Everything was starting to feel right again.

#

There was another luncheon the next day, this time with a family of nine, the Fawleys. Severus spent most of the meal burning each name into his memory. He finally came up with a pneumonic device—the FLATTENED Fawleys. Parents Francis and Lucretia; their offspring, ranging in age from about ten to almost thirty: Artemus, Titus, Theda, Eudora, Nicholas, Erasmus, and Drucilla.

Severus sensed there'd be a theme to the visits when Mr. Fawley mentioned his apothecary shop in Leeds.

"Severus has just been asked to apprentice with the Yaxleys this summer," Abraxas said, as though he hadn't orchestrated the entire thing.

Mr. Fawley frowned. "A bit young, isn't he?"

"Levina seemed very keen to get her hands on him." Abraxas took a bite of the meal in front of him.

"Why?" Mr. Fawley's scowl deepened, his eyes snapping with irritation. "What does she know that I don't?"

"The boy is intelligent. It's a shame his family has neglected his place in proper society, but now that we've been seeing to it that he's introduced to the right families, I'm sure his aptitude will be apparent to all."

Mr. Fawley narrowed his eyes at Severus, looking him up and down.

"You can't be more than a fourth year. How advanced could you be?"

"Third, actually," Severus said.

Mr. Fawley snorted. "And Levina wanted you for her shop?" He frowned, tapping his fingers on the table. "Why should you be careful with adding more than one bezoar to any antidote?"

"Because too much creates an imbalance in the antidote, and instead of counteracting the poisons, it enhances it."

"And what would you do to a Muffling Draught to change it to a Jawbind Potion?"

"Add half a measure of Moondew."

A sly grin swept up one side of Mr. Fawley's face, and his eyes glittered with greed. "Snape, you said, didn't you, Abraxas?"

"Yes."

The grin grew. "Have you already agreed to Levina's offer, boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"Damn. Next summer, then, you'll come to my shop."

Severus blinked. Abraxas laughed.

"Levina may not appreciate being undercut, Francis. Perhaps the two of you could work out an arrangement. I'm sure Severus would be happy for the opportunity to learn from each of you."

Severus tightened his jaw. Abraxas wasn't wrong—any opportunity to get more advanced potions knowledge was fine by him—but the ease at which he was dictating Severus's future irritated him.

He wanted to say something, to demand that Abraxas ask him before he offered him up to every person he invited to lunch. The thought of the Pembertons, and their fate at the hands of Abraxas, stilled his tongue.

"I understand you've had your eye on the empty space across from Borgin and Burke's," Abraxas said.

"If Borgin doesn't snatch it first," Mr. Fawley said. "He's hinted that he wants to expand, but Mohan isn't inclined to sell to the man who put him out of business."

"Well, if you do, that would make a shared apprenticeship much easier."

Mr. Fawley shot a gaze to Severus again. "Indeed it would. I'll speak to Levina in the morning. Though I doubt she'll be best pleased to share such a promising student."

After they left, Abraxas turned to the boys with a look of satisfaction.

"You're going to be in high demand, Severus. See that you don't disappoint me."

"Mr. Malfoy, why should they care about me at all?"

"It's simple. I traded your apprenticeship with Levina for one she wanted for her son. But she's particular. If she didn't think you'd last long, she'd have refused. And Francis never likes to be behind Levina on anything. If she wanted you, so would he. And that is how a reputation grows. Do well with them, and there's no telling what heights you might aspire to. And introducing you to the rest of the families this week as the new apprentice both Levina Yaxley and Francis Fawley want a piece of will ensure they remember your name, at the least. And we want them to remember your name, Severus. We want them to know that you are sought after, at thirteen. Imagine how your reputation will grow as your skills and actions prove you more than capable. You're destined for great things—with our help."

Abraxas laid a hand on Severus's shoulder, and the boy swallowed, suppressing the urge to shudder. All these machinations for his benefit—why?

"But I don't understand why you'd go to all this trouble, for me," Severus said.

Lucius snorted. "Because if he doesn't, someone else will. We'd rather you be with us, Severus."

This elicited a smirk from Severus. "Am I that much of a threat to you, Lucius?"

"Not yet. Hogwarts will only teach you so much—the apprenticeships will fill in the gaps. You'll be able to run circles around even Melison when you're done."

"I'm okay, but I'm not that good."

"Not yet," Lucius said again. "But you will be." His hand suddenly trailed over his left sleeve, and he looked at his father, who nodded.

"We've another appointment, Severus. You'll have to forgive our rudeness at leaving you to your own devices for a while. Come, Lucius. It would not do to be late."

Lucius nodded, and the pair hurried out the front door, leaving a bewildered Severus standing in the entry.

#

Severus decided to make the most of the time alone, and spent the hours that his hosts were gone combing through the library. He started by looking for anything he thought might mention Luminis Praesidium, but when an hour had passed without any luck, a book on medieval hexes caught his eye.

He was going to need something unexpected to catch Geoffrey Goyle off-guard when they started back in September. The duel hung heavy in his mind, having been pushed back for so long. Now it was a mere nine weeks away—and he needed to be prepared. Goyle would no doubt have access to a library similar to this one; Severus was going to need to be creative if he wanted to best his housemate.

Lucius found him there well after night had fallen, a stack of books beside him, a roll of parchment half-filled with his cramped, spiky, writing. The older boy picked a book off the stack and raised an eyebrow, eyeing the rest of the spines.

"Afraid you'll have to fight Yaxley or Fawley?" he asked archly.

Severus looked up at him. "No. Should I be?"

"Don't be an idiot. Father wouldn't put you somewhere you'd be unsafe."

Severus's eyes darted to the door, and he lowered his voice. "Are you sure?"

Lucius tossed the book he'd picked up back onto the pile. "Of course I am. What's got into you?"

"He was deciding my future well enough; and now that I know what he's capable of—"

Lucius rolled his eyes. "He likes you, Severus. For whatever that's worth. He didn't so much as scold you for speaking out of turn yesterday, did he? Because he isn't about to get rid of you—at least, not until he's gotten his use from you." This last was said with a lighter tone, but it made Severus's blood cool.

"What use? And where have you two been all afternoon?"

"Don't ask questions," Lucius said, picking at his left sleeve absently. "You'll understand soon enough. Get through your apprenticeships this summer and guide the Slytherin group well next term, and perhaps next summer you'll be in a position to be of use. Until then—" He nodded towards the books. "Want to tell me about all this?"

Severus hesitated. If he told Lucius about the duel, would he try to stop it? He didn't want his interference, that was the whole point. To prove that he didn't need Lucius behind him to stand up for himself. On the other hand, Lucius might have some insight into what spells to use.

"I know a lot about offensive spells; I need to know some defensive ones as well."

Lucius sighed and pulled out the chair across from Severus at the table. "You've agreed to a bloody duel, haven't you?"

Severus set his jaw. "I didn't have much choice."

"You and Goyle are going to have to learn to tolerate each other, Severus."

"Who said it was Goyle?"

Lucius cut a look at him that asked if Severus thought he was an idiot. "In the Forbidden Forest, I assume?"

"The clearing."

"And I don't suppose me pointing out that you're being an idiot is going to stop you?"

"It won't stop him. This is the only way to prove I don't need your protection anymore. That I can stand on my own."

"Is it? I've never been in a duel, Severus. So don't fool yourself into believing there isn't another way. But Goyle won't back out of it, and if you do now, you'll only hurt that reputation we worked so hard to build last term." He sighed again. "All right. So we'll get you versed in defensive spells. Let me see what you've got there."

They worked until they were called to dinner, finding several deflective techniques that would be easy to master once Severus was able to practice. He felt a nervous jolt of excitement. He was going to best Goyle, he could feel it.

#

The Evening Prophet was on his bed when he returned to his room after dinner, and Kenoa pecked at a note that lay on top of it.

Abraxas works quickly. I've taken out a subscription on your behalf. Perhaps you want to start a scrapbook.

~ Sebastian

Oh, and you might look through it for actual news. Perhaps staying informed of what's happening around you will keep you more vigilant.

Severus frowned and picked up the paper, leafing through it. Sebastian had circled a notice near the back of the paper:

Rumor has it that famed apothecary Levina Yaxley has agreed to take on an apprentice for the first time. Apparently, she's found a thirteen-year-old prodigy that somehow impressed her more than any applicant in the past ten years. Good luck, Mister Snape—you're going to need it.

He frowned—is that where Lucius and Abraxas had gone this afternoon? To a reporter? But why? None of this made any sense to him. Severus folded the paper to put it aside—he had other things to worry about than his being written about in the newspaper—and an article at the bottom right caught his eye:

Muggle Ministry Baffled by Disappearances; Looks to Minister of Magic for Answers

Another spate of Muggle disappearances have been reported this evening. Normally, this paper doesn't concern itself with that populace, but it's becoming increasingly clear that this is the work of dark wizards or witches. Locked homes with no inhabitants, dinners untouched on tables; Muggle policemen have been baffled for months. When word finally made it to the Muggle Prime Minister this afternoon, a plea for assistance was sent to Minister of Magic Eugenia Jenkins. Minister Jenkins has stated that the Ministry will investigate the matter fully. No further information was provided, but it is worth noting that over half of the Muggles who have gone missing are persons of value within the Muggle scientific community. One cannot help but think to connect these disappearances with those recently reported in the Magical community. It is this reporter's opinion that someone out there is collecting brain power. Merlin help us all if we fail to find them before they get whatever knowledge they're seeking.

As far as he knew, the last time the Muggles and the Ministry had worked together had been during Grindelwald's rise in the second Great War. This was important. He turned back to the front page and began scouring the headlines, looking for anything else that stood out.

An hour later, he knocked on Lucius's door. There was a muffled curse, and after a moment, Lucius opened the door just enough to see Severus and arch a brow.

"It's late, Severus—"

Severus held up the newspaper.

Lucius's eyes narrowed. "Where did you get that?"

"My uncle. Apparently he thinks I'll need to start a scrapbook." Severus glanced around the corridor. "I need to talk to you."

"Tomorrow," Lucius said. "Right now, I'm—busy."

Severus frowned. "Busy? With what?"

A whispered voice floated to the door. Lucius didn't turn, but cocked his head to the side and stared down at the younger boy.

"Go to sleep, Severus. I'll talk to you in the morning."

He shut the door in Severus's face before he could protest. From behind the closed door, more whispers, and a giggle that was cut off as Lucius undoubtedly cast an Imperturbable Charm.

Severus blushed. Apparently he wasn't Lucius's only guest this summer.

#

Lucius came to Severus's room before breakfast the next morning, snatching The Evening Prophet from his bedside table and tossing himself into a chair as he read.

He snorted once, then tossed it back to Severus. "That's nothing. It's just the start, Severus. Get used to it."

"Why?"

Lucius rolled his eyes and draped an arm over the back of the chair. "Because, while your reputation at Hogwarts might be growing, out in the real world, nobody knows—or cares—who you are. That will change soon enough."

Severus felt like they had been talking in circles since he got there. "I don't understand why you and your father care about what other people think of me."

"Because we took you under our wing," Lucius said. "Father isn't one to boast about children—even his own. I can barely get a passing mention at most of his functions, because I can handle myself just fine, but I don't stand out. Not yet. But you—you stood out from the moment you gave Potter that gash on the train. And I had the good sense to snatch you up before anyone else got their dirty hands on you."

Severus frowned. "But—"

"For Merlin's sake, Severus, just enjoy it. And don't screw it up."

He sighed. "Fine. I'll stop asking. But did you see the other article?"

"There were a dozen articles, Severus. Be specific."

"About the missing Muggles."

Lucius's face darkened. "What about them?"

"The paper says they're connected to Magical disappearances. Your father has connections in the Ministry—has he heard anything?"

"You're going to have to get better at this if you want to be of any use to anyone," Lucius muttered. "Stop asking so many questions. If somebody doesn't offer you the information you want, find a way to get it, Severus. Father isn't likely to tell you—or me, for that matter—anything about what happens at the Ministry. We're going down there with him today. Keep your ears open, see what you can find out on your own."

Severus perked up. He'd never been to the Ministry of Magic. "Why's he taking us?"

"Because I've got a job interview down there, and you're going to be introduced to a dozen fat old men who like to pretend they run things. But when it comes down to it, it's those with the biggest purse—and the most power—who make the decisions." His eyes glittered. "And soon, we'll be part of it, Severus. So go, stick with Father, and pay attention. You'll need those men to respect you—or fear you."

Severus doubted that he'd strike much fear into the hearts of grown men, but he didn't argue the point. And when, two hours later, he was at Abraxas's side at the Ministry, he shook hands with every one of them and did his best to look interested in what they had to say.

He kept glancing around and checking over his shoulder, sure he was going to spot his father among the throngs of office workers. Silias was an Apparition Test Center clerk, and when the lift announced they'd arrived in the Department of Magical Transportation, Severus's breath caught.

Abraxas seemed not to notice Severus's discomfort as he strode through the desks lining the room, ignoring most of the startled looks thrown his way. Severus's legs stopped moving of their own accord as soon as he recognized the back of his father. Silias was bent over a desk near the front of the long room, stringy hair falling onto the surface.

This, Abraxas did notice. He took Severus's arm. "If you show him you're not afraid of him," he hissed into his ear, "he loses his power over you. Keep walking. Meet his eyes. Hold your head up. I'll do all the talking."

Abraxas released his arm, and Severus took a step forward. Meet his eyes. Hold your head up.

"Silias, how fortunate we've come across you this morning," Abraxas said as they neared his desk.

Severus's father snapped his head up, narrowing his eyes at Abraxas. He flicked his gaze to Severus uninterestedly, no doubt expecting Lucius. A sneer curled one side of his mouth up when he recognized his son.

"Trading up, boy?"

Severus tightened his jaw, meeting his father's glare with his own. It had been nearly a year since he'd spoken to him. There were many things he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.

Abraxas laid a heavy hand on Severus's shoulder. "Severus is staying with us for the rest of the summer. As he's your son, I'm surprised you weren't aware."

Anger flashed through Silias's eyes. "I stopped caring about where that ingrate goes and what he does."

"Excellent. Then you'll have no qualms about giving written permission for his apprenticeship." Abraxas pulled a roll of parchment from his robes.

Silias's sneer grew, and he stood, folding his arms across his chest.

Severus's heart sank. He isn't going to let me do something I enjoy if he can help it.

"And suppose I do have qualms?" He stared intently at Abraxas. "How do you intend to soothe them?"

Abraxas's face was like granite. He leaned forward and muttered something too softly for Severus to hear. Whatever it was, it made Silias's face pale, his eyes snapping to his son before resting again on Abraxas.

"You haven't the authority—"

"Oh, Silias. I believe you'll find I do. Or, rather, I have the favor of those who do. Now then," Abraxas unrolled the parchment and set it on Silias's desk. "We do have quite a few people to see today. If you wouldn't mind signing it, we'll leave you to your—work."

His father remained standing for a moment, a look of pure hatred on his face as he stared at the parchment on his desk and the man holding it there. Finally he grabbed his quill and scratched his name onto the paper.

Abraxas smiled, though Severus noted his eyes were glittering with malice. "Thank you. Good day, Silias. Come, Severus. The head of this department is a dear friend." He steered Severus towards a door at the front of the room. Severus felt the eyes of the other workers on them as they approached the office.

Among them, he could feel the daggers of his father's stare. He didn't look back.

They spent ten minutes with the department head, and by the time they emerged, Silias had left his desk. Abraxas smirked as they made their way to the lifts.

"You see?" he said when the doors closed and they were on their own. "Don't show fear if you can help it, Severus, no matter how scared you are. It's a weakness others will not hesitate to exploit."

They wended their way through the Ministry's many departments all morning, never stopping for more than half an hour in any one place. It wasn't just the heads of departments that Abraxas introduced him to; several clerks and a few undersecretaries greeted Abraxas with open arms and a guarded smile of welcome.

By lunchtime, Severus was ready to hole himself away in the library at Malfoy Manor. He had no hope of remembering everyone he'd been introduced to, let alone what they did at the Ministry. They met Lucius in the lobby, a smug grin of satisfaction on his face.

"No trouble, then?" Abraxas asked.

"I start Monday," Lucius said. "The Minister was nearly wetting herself to put me on the roster in the Department of Mysteries."

Abraxas gave a cluck of disapproval. "There's no need to be vulgar, Lucius. You'll need to curb that tongue if you want to stay on here in any capacity."

"Yes, Father." But Lucius smirked at Severus as soon as Abraxas swept past him, falling into step beside his friend. "So what did you think of your first glimpse of the inner workings of our government?"

"Everyone smiled," Severus said. "But there was something off. Nobody seemed genuinely happy to see your father."

Lucius laughed, earning a reproachful glare from Abraxas. "No, well, they wouldn't be. Did he press any of them for favors this time?"

"No. It was mostly just introducing me and asking after their families. He knows all of their names—children, parents, wives, siblings—and then he said something about a vote, but I don't know which vote he meant."

"Oh, excellent." Lucius glanced up at his father before looking down at Severus again. He lowered his voice. "There's been talk about enacting a law prohibiting Muggles from even being allowed in places like Diagon Alley."

"Well, they can't get there anyway, can they?"

Lucius shook his head and sighed. "Normally, no. But if they spawn a mudblood, they can."

Severus bristled at the pejorative. But he didn't say anything; it wouldn't help. And he'd known Muggles could get to magical places—he'd been with Lily and her parents when they went to Diagon Alley for the first time.

"So why try to keep them out?" Severus asked. "They have to go in, to get supplies and things for their kids."

"That's entirely the point, Severus. If they can't get in, their children can't get what they need for Hogwarts, and Hogwarts will either have to pay to outfit the filth—which the governors would never allow—or they'd simply not attend. And if we can keep them out of Hogwarts, eventually they'll be out of our world entirely."

Severus frowned. What would Hogwarts be like for him without Lily? He didn't want to think about it. "We can't do that."

Lucius's eyes narrowed. "I know you have a soft spot for that neighbor of yours, but you need to get past that. She and all of her kind are on the way out, and it's the way it's going to be. You can either side with them and be crushed, or side with us and have all the power and control that comes with victory."

Control. That would be nice. Respect. Severus thought about the students at school, and how they'd reacted after he'd been caught in the Restricted Section. Fear. Yes, he could get used to that. But Lily—he'd never turn his back on her.

Lucius was staring at him, waiting for a reply. Severus wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to alienate Lucius, either. Finally, he nodded. He didn't have to do anything, and maybe, if he kept his wits about him, he'd be able to keep Lily out of it all.

A/N: As always, thanks be to my beta, the fantabulous to2llyuntraceable