Chapter 6

Severus

The late December night is unseasonably warm, and the magical heating inside the marquee feels almost stifling. The party is at the dancing stage, and the jostling of bodies only makes the heat that much worse. Not one for dancing, Severus stays as close to an exit as he can, idly wondering what he was doing at an event such as this. He had been a little beguiled by a lavish and fulsome letter from Lucius Malfoy insisting that Severus attend his little 'pre New Year' gathering and had, uncharacteristically, given in. He rather regretted it now. For one, he had sold his good set of quills to buy the dress robes for the occasion. For two, he had not realised the broad, sweeping sumptuousness of Malfoy Manor. There were peacocks roaming the grounds, for Merlin's sake! Severus felt like a Hippogriff at a child's tea party. For three, being of no real birth or bloodline, he was largely ignored by most people, with the exception of brief greetings from his own classmates. And finally, the only person who spoke to him at length was Malfoy, and that , too, only to bend his ear about 'joining the cause, we need a man of your skills, your talent.' It appeared that recruiting Severus , dancing attendance on Narcissa and then disappearing into a cordoned off smaller marquee were Malfoy's three main duties that night. Severus had thought that that was where the food was being prepared, but realised later on that one by one, different key guests kept disappearing behind it, almost as if they were keeping a private appointment.

Severus was not given to speculation, but if he did, he would very likely have suspected that the mysterious leader of the Death Eaters was hidden within the marquee. But it was a festive night and Severus, for a change, did not want to brood on complex things. He wanted to close his eyes and think of Lily. The last time he saw her, she was in the library, a long red tendril falling down from her high bun onto her textbook, brow furrowed in concentration. That was his Lily. He also thought, with some amusement, of the scathing things Lily would have to say about Malfoy Manor, not least the army of house-elves that seemed at the Malfoy's disposal.

His robes felt so tight. He pulled a little at his collar and wondered when he might be able to escape the party.

"Severus", said a voice at his elbow. He looked down to see Regulus Black, clad top to toe in deep green, with little gold stars etched into his cuffs. He looked every inch the princeling.

"How are you, Regulus?"

"Managing. You look sullen. Do put a good face on before Narcissa come over and tries to cheer you up. It's the first Christmas without my brother and everyone needs to be as happy as can be."

"That sounds appalling."

"It has its benefits. I'm not short of dance partners now that I'm the heir to the house of Black.", smirked Regulus.

"You're a braver man than I am then."

Regulus turned to him with serious eyes. "I would take whatever merriment I could if I were you, Severus. I predict that very soon, we will have to take sides. Hasn't Lucius told you all about the plans he has for you and your cauldron?"

"Lucius needs to let me make that decision."

Shrugging, as if to say 'suit yourself, Regulus walks away in the direction of a Yaxley sister.

Severus scowls. He resolves to see Slughorn in the new year and ask if he might put in his application for his apprenticeship early. He realises that going away for a year or two to study Potions might be construed as running away, but he has no choice. He cannot choose a side that is so against the one that Lily is on..and yet he cannot go to her. He is a creature caught between, a nothing. Torn between all the complicated, nuanced things that he believes. He would love the opportunity to develop his abilities in the Dark Arts, but there was yet something that repulsed him about the Malfoys and the Blacks, something… grubby…something without ambition and full only of hate and self importance.

Casting an eye out for any lurking Lucius, he grabbed another glass of mead and slowly strolled down to the ornamental lake, a good distance from the marquee. A statue of Salazar Slytherin overlooked the lake and just by it was a long wooden bench. He sat down slowly and sipped his mead, eyes watching the ripples on the lake.

"Vanity, all is vanity" said soft high voice and Severus turned slightly. He had somehow not noticed the dark figure seated at the other end of the bench. He could barely make out the face, but the figure seemed long and thin.

"Do you mean the lake?" asked Severus.

"I mean a family with so much wealth, so much possibility for power, so very consumed with themselves. Peacocks!"

"Do you not approve of wizarding families with power and wealth?"

"What is their power for? They use it for nothing and yet moan about the dilution of blood, of having to share space with Mudbloods and Halfbloods. Yet, all they wish for is self preservation, not change. Not the true legacy of wizardkind, of embracing the power of magical blood. Here they are with their houses and gardens whi;e wizardkind covers in secrecy."

"Oh i see. But all gathered here have joined the new movement."

"They have joined, but yet they do not see what is needed. They join to keep their jewels and houses and pretty daughters. They do not yet understand it will be revolution."

"A revolution?"

"You do not argue with me about the accumulation of wealth, i see."

"It has never been in my grasp. I am a half-blood of a good family. With a Muggle father."

The thin figure leans forward and slowly Severus sees the face. It is almost blurred in a way, but it is thin, and pale and handsome. The eyes are keen and clear and piercing and the momentarily flash red. Severus holds his breath. He does not need the introduction that follows.

"As am I. I am Lord Voldemort, half-blood but true heir of Slytherin. I have come to bring about the revolution."