Disclaimer: The following is not purely original fiction, but rather characters, settings, and situations as created by J.K. Rowling. I'm playing in her toybox because I get writer's block on my own work. I will return all characters in fairly decent condition. No money is being made of this piece of fanfiction and can not be reproduced for any purposes but strictly private entertainment.
Chapter One - Liqumbaug's Plan
Day: 2 Month: 11 Year: 1976
Remus wondered if this was some twisted game of hide and seek. It was the sort of thing a bored Marauder would think up and the others join in on.
His three dorm mates (who also happened to be his best - and the only of his age - friends) had evaporated at some point that morning, between Charms and Divination, and had skived Trelawney's class (actually, a very clever thing to do). It was now their free Friday afternoon, and Remus was half-apprehensive, half-annoyed, and half-alarmed. (Okay, so three halves didn't make a whole unless you took a special branch of Arthimancy, but that was a headache for another day.) James, Sirius, and Peter might have just wanted some time alone - they might not even all be together - but usually if they disappeared for six hours, they at least warned him in advance. Was something wrong?
He smiled wryly to himself. As if he was in any position to talk of lying about mysterious whereabouts and occurrences thereof.
Still, he would've given up the search and finished some homework it he hadn't been worried. Strange things and mysterious disappearances were regular occurrences lately.
Racking his mind a bit more, he thought of where else to check. He'd gone through all their hidden rooms that existed that particular day, combed Gryffindor Tower, the Great Hall, the Owlery, the library (dubiously), every corridor, and had asked Nearly Headless Nick if he'd seen them.
Remus glanced out the window and sighed. It was pouring down rain, but they were probably outside. He grinned fondly as he doubled back for his cloak.
"Lupin. Excellent. I was hoping to talk with you."
Remus halted, recognising the voice of his Defence Against the Dark Arts master, Professor Liqumbaug. His even tone could have meant any number of things. Remus went to the open door of the office. "Good afternoon, Sir."
"Don't just stand there, lad, come in. Do you have anywhere to be just now?"
Liqumbaug was a tall, well-built man whose presence dominated any room he was in. Students never had much cause to fear him; he had never handed out a punishment other than the occasional deducted point. No one ever misbehaved for him to do anything else. His question had been rather pointless - if he wanted to talk with you, you had nothing better to do.
"No, Sir." Remus took a seat at Liqumbaug's round worktable.
Liqumbaug offered him a dry but proud half-smile. "You're making a mockery out of me, young Lupin." He nimbly thumbed through a stack of parchment on the table, looking for something. "I'm forced to keep giving points to Gryffindor."
The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was also Head of Slytherin. Yet he managed to be pretty fair to all Houses, although everyone knew where his loyalties lay. He wore a green-and-silver wristband in case anyone forgot.
"I'm sorry. Would it help if I said I'm extremely disappointed in myself?"
Liqumbaug chuckled. "You shouldn't be." He found the sheet he was looking for; it was an essay he had recently assigned: "Legal and Moral Issues on the Unforgivables - Discuss". The one he held was Remus's own. "Never read anything like it. Your writing was concise and strong. A ten-year-old could read and understand about all of it, but any scholar or intellectual would love it. Points clearly made and thorough research. I'm really rather jealous you wrote it."
Remus bit his lip, feeling colour rise into his face, but was very pleased. Liqumbaug was stingy with praise, and when he felt you earned it, you knew you had done quite a job. "Thank you, Sir."
"Seven-hundred-and-ten-percent." He didn't just say seven hundred. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Do you plan to write more of these? You could probably market them."
Remus glanced at him, surprised. "I could?"
"Yes. Something to think about."
It was indeed. The very thought of some form of independence from his uncle Richaden made something in his chest hurt. "I will, Sir."
"There's something else I wanted to suggest. I'm talking to you and Severus Snape separately, so you're sparred having to react diplomatically." He grinned. "So feel free to scream in horror and make all the faces you wish. But try to think with your head here. Have you thought of a partner for the Duels?"
The Duels were a teamed competition involving swordsmanship, staff, and magic. Several contests would decide which Hogwarts representative team would go to the Gathering, where there would be another series of matches with teams from the world over.
"Peter. Pettigrew."
Liqumbaug sighed. "As I thought. Er - you do know that - and no offence to your friend - this isn't his strongest area?"
"Yes. But Pete's logical, chess-like. That's needed as well."
"Lupin, think a moment. I won't deny that you two would do fine - but think of when you get to Snape. He's with Cletus Avery. Now, you may beat them. But you and Pettigrew would then be nowhere at the Gathering. Those are the best teams from all over the world.
"Or Snape and Avery might win. They'll go on. Even with how good Severus is - he's quite as good as you, and I'm glad to know you don't deny it - he can't do much with Avery." Liqumbaug paused. "Follow me?"
Remus had looked and listened intently the whole time, eyes a little wide. "You want me and - and Snape - to be on the same team?"
"Snape and me."
"Snape and me," Remus repeated obediently, mulling this over. Snape? Snape bullied Peter, clashed with Sirius, and played trick after dirty trick on James. He couldn't imagine working civilly with Snape.
But then, unless defending his friends, Remus had never had any personal battles with him. He tried to think objectively, an undistorted view, and got an unbiased image of Sev Snape, an interoved, bookish Slytherin who knew more curses than Liqumbaus himself… although he rarely used them. He spent a lot of the time on top of Defence and was a sheer genius at Potions (while Remus tried not to be jealous; the subject didn't come hard, it just never came to him at all) and a good Keeper. Although undeniably intelligent and decently good-looking, Snape was definitely a loner. Part of it might've been his hair, which was always shiny with grease; most was probably his temper and attitude. He had little patience, was moody, unreadable, and never seemed to be interested in much except his beloved books.
He was also James's worst (possibly only; James was extremely likeable) enemy, and he, Remus, had promised Peter already. Remus opened his mouth to say so, but Liqumbaus spoke first.
"Don't make up your mind just yet. Think it over. Think of Hogwarts. Think how exciting being competitive in the Gathering would be. Think of how grateful I would be to shut Professor Ellicha up."
"Professor, there's also the small fact that we've not exchanged a friendly word in five years."
"That can be fixed. Another think to think of - I keep trying to move the date, but the school competition is only three days after the full moon; only time we can work it in. Winning the tournament is tough at the best of times, lad, but you can barely manage classes at that time. And Snape? He'd take you down like a feather, and Pettigrew can't take his whole share."
Remus hadn't considered this yet, but shrugged. "I'll just have to start practicing directly after my transformations. There're still a few months."
"Remus." Remus startled; Liqumbaug never called him by given name. "I don't deny you'll do anything when you have a mind to - I learned that quickly - but think reasonably. When we have practice three days after the full moon, I'm afraid you'll collapse on me. A simple drill leaves you sweating; after a full lesson someone usually forces you to the hospital wing." He hesitated, and then continued. "If this is from your first year, I'm sorry. Don't feel as if you must prove yourself to me. You already have."
Directly after Remus's first Defence Against the Dark Arts class, Liqumbaug kept him after dismissal, calling him to stand before his desk. He then proceeded to give a lecture on the conditions of Remus's lycanthropy, firmly stating that he was to miss no homework assignment, must get his notes from a classmate, could not be late without a note from Madam Pomfrey, he was not going to harm or threaten a student or teacher on threat of expulsion and execution, and his monthly ordeal would be no excuse for inattentiveness or weariness during class. Understood?
Remus had been silently furious Liqumbaug believed disobeying any of those orders had crossed his mind in the first place. What hurt more was that these were not simply reminders or cautions; Liqumbaug's usual calmly stern voice was harsh and despising. He refrained from speaking these thoughts; instead he quietly replied that he understood, choking back an irritating impulse to cry.
Months passed; Remus applying himself diligently, controlling havoc-wrecking instincts, determined to prove he was studier of the text first and subject of the text second. After those first few moons, Liqumbaug's attitude changed; Remus no longer felt he was being constantly tested and watched, and Liqumbaug's tone and manner to him became the same as to any other Gryffindor pupil. Remus even developed a talent and liking for Defence; it's practical applications seemed so much more potent than brewing a Sneeze-Inducing Mixture.
"What d'you think Snape would say?"
Liqumbaug gave him a look that clearly stated that answer should be obvious. "We're Slytherins. If he wants to win, he'll see you're better than Avery. Who does he want as a partner? The best."
"Honestly, Sir, with all these compliments I feel like bread being buttered. Just what makes you think we could be compatible enough?"
"You're rather shrewd, considering what House you're in, aren't you, Lupin? As for your question, I don't think you'll be 'compatible' enough. I know you are. You know how?"
"Because you always know and you're always right, Sir?"
Liqumbaug raised an eyebrow, eyes twinkling. "You're honest and respectful, young Gryffindor, but pert. No. You put weights in your sword, didn't you?"
Remus suspected he was in trouble. "Yes, Sir. For training."
"Clever move. Regular swords will seem like quills to you. Now, when I picked up your sword and felt that extra heft and worked out what you had done, I followed a hunch. I was right."
Remus waited, wondering where this was going.
Liqumbaug smiled triumphantly. "Snape had done the exact same thing."
*
Severus was annoyed.
No, worse than annoyed. He was irritated, exasperated. No one worked for anything. Not even Slytherins.
He hated having to work with anyone anyhow. Whose bright idea had that been? Some sparkling blue-eyed idealist who spoke in airy tones of "promoting co-operation and teamwork among tomorrow's future leaders!" The thought of trusting another to do their share in your goals went wholly against what he had learned the past few years as a Slytherin with a dangerous leader on the rise.
You trusted no one. No one. Except yourself, and even then, be well aware of your limits. Everyone had some and only Gryffindor fools ignored them.
It had been trickier as of late to keep his nose clean. The Dark Lord was recruiting the fifth years; some of Severus's roommates even bore of the Dark Mark on their forearm.
Those who kept their head down, those whom fellow Slytherins were uncertain would join, were usually ignored - completely. Given an icy silence, a cold shoulder. But the odd, highly intelligent Severus could not be overlooked. He was far too clever, a little too radical, and would be too dangerous if he joined enemy lines wholeheartedly.
Severus had no intention of blindly following Dumbledore, but he didn't want to become a Death Eater. He served two masters: himself, and his mother. His mother, an Auror abroad, wouldn't want him to be on the Dark Lord's side.
He had not seen his mother since the age of seven. But how he would have done anything for her! His deepest, wildest fantasy was to meet her, to feel her arms around him, to hear she was proud of him. So no Dark Side for him.
But it required caution. The others would get nastily persuasive if they didn't believe Sev Snape, duelist and brewer extraordinaire, was with them. That meant leering at Mudbloods, showing guarded support for their lord, leading them to believe he'd be initiated soon, and being as "true" a Slytherin as possible.
That did not mean he was one of them. It was pretty much an accepted fact that he was the oddball, the loner, the bookworm, at times among them but rarely one of them. Uncannily quiet, always saying things his peers couldn't follow, temperamental, and with a knack for holding fierce grudges, Severus was just regarded as… weird.
It was fine by him; Severus had no patience with his Slytherin age group. They had no intellect; even those with magical talent or book knowledge had no conception of logic or thinking outside the square.
And no inclination to change it! It was this which caused Severus's latest sulky fit - Cletus Avery's laziness. He had been shunted around and stuck with Cletus as a partner for the Duels, a competition with high bragging rights at stake. Everyone else had a given friend to team with.
Severus had just been trying to persuade Cletus off of a chair in front of the common room fire, where he was gazing longingly with fellow perverts Christoph Wilkes and Evan Rosier over girls posing in Teen Witch Weekly. The three were about as close to friends as Severus possessed, but he was often at odds with them.
"Why do I have to practice? No one can beat you, Sev. I'll just be… backup… yeah, backup…" Cletus's eye caught an undergarment advertisement.
Severus sighed pointedly.
"The Duels aren't that much to worry of, Sev," Evan assured him. He and Christoph were sixth-years and had gone through it the year before. They were annoyingly superior about it, too. "That's, what, five whole months away, anyway."
"Right. Can't you catch up one your twenty issues of drool after the Duels?" Severus demanded.
"Eh? English, Snape. You're talking to mortals here," Christoph said.
Severus, pushed to his limit, yelled at them and stormed off. Hopeless. And Cletus - Cletus could work some spells and was swift when fired up, but his actual defence was as mediocre as Professor Liqumbaug would let it be. His sword and staff… flashy, but sloppy. He rarely practiced; "homework" was nonexistent to him; Cletus could probably talk his way out of Azkaban. Would probably need to one day, come to think of it.
Might he win, even with Cletus? Severus wondered, ready to cool his temper in the library. He ignored a portrait yelling to him that if the wind changed, his face would stay that way. He was good, and nearly able to claim himself the best in his class. He'd drilled chronically since they started the staff last year. It was the one thing he did as much as reading.
Staff, sword, and dueling on a competitive level could only be achieved by a very diligent or very talented few in the two years they would have completed by the contest. For the majority of the class, even Liqumbaug was only aiming for them learning simple defence with staff and sword before they laid them aside at the end of this year. Most students would be knocked out by the first round.
Out of the serious group, many of them were mediocre compared to Severus. This list included most Slytherins. But then there were a few teams he was worried about…
Tessa Abbott and Lily Evans. Both had photographic memories. Tess, a Hufflepuff, was stronger than most boys and vicious with her weapons. Severus knew he was more agile, but she was no pushover. Lily, a Gryffindor, was terrific with the wand. She always gave Severus a challenge he would have appreciated, had not he been so worried she might win. His House mates would not go for a Mudblood beating their star student, despite the fact she had whipped them often and soundly. Tess and Lily were the only threatening female team, but dedicated. And not prone to showing everything they had.
Robin Heyworth and Katya Peterson. It was unusual for two Ravenclaws to be as good with combat as with magic, but they were, and Heyworth was muscular. Katya was one of the few swifter than Severus, according to rumour… not that he paid much attention to rumour.
Severus clenched his teeth as he came to the next two… Potter and Black. Sirius Black was bad enough - a loudmouthed, emotional, vivid boy with firm opinions and a temper worse than Severus's own. They often fought over something or another; if Black was locked up in a room with only a rock for company, he'd get to wrestling with it. He was always sneering at Severus for something.
It was often in defence of his best friend, James Potter. The two were inseparable; the school had taken to addressing both of them "Blotter", apart or together - and they were most often together. Black was fiercely loyal to all his friends, but his devotion to Potter caused Severus to roll his eyes.
Potter was one of the most popular kids in school. Severus couldn't reason it. All he could see was a loud, reckless, messy-haired Gryffindor who made a great deal of jokes at others' expense and flaunted his perfect life around.
He had once shouted to Severus: "Hey, Severus, the sun's out!" in his never-ending quest to solve the mystery of his love of books. Severus had never forgotten it, or how even the Slytherins laughed.
The very worst part - Black and Potter were more than good. They were absolute naturals in all areas of dueling. Black, although his common sense probably could have fit in a Sneakoscope with room for his puffeskein as well, was strong and his impulses usually led him right. Potter did have some sense, and was quick, smooth, and unhesitant.
At least they had two very big weak points: over-confidence and laziness. They rarely trained and often fell behind Severus.
Then, lastly, were Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. Pettigrew didn't worry Severus to the point of losing sleep; he was terrible with the actual fighting, but was a master chess player, and chess players generally made for good strategists.
The real problem in this duo, however, was Lupin. One on one in a semi-fair match, Severus was sure he could win any match with any weapon with anyone, barring the special circumstances sure to arise on the actual day, except possibly Tess Abbott with sword or staff.
With Lupin Severus wasn't nearly so sure. In class Liqumbaug had squared them off only once, in fourth year right when they began staff work. Severus had never used it before (unlike showoff Potter, who had held one since he was five and made sure everyone knew it) and was concentrating on learning and not making a fool of himself. Lupin seemed unused to the weapon as well and handled it carefully, obviously because had he used the same mindless pace as his friends, he'd most likely embarrassed himself spectacularly in front of Slytherin rivals. Still, even then Severus sensed his quiet intentness, his quick grasp on the art.
Now - and Severus was loathe to admit it - Lupin was the only one on his level, the only one who prevented Severus from being the no-questions-asked best of the year. His handling was controlled and fluid; movements agile; his defence in a magical duel could probably stand up to Severus's blistering offence; he took full advantage of the allowance to use any items in the designated combat lines, once levitating an ink bottle and spilling it to trip up his partner.
Severus had studied the problem a while, analysing both their styles, honing in on Lupin's weaknesses. The chief one was the Gryffindor's inability to break the code of chivalry; Severus suspected he'd rather forfeit than play foul. That was what he, Severus, had to capatilise on. Evan called it "shoving into a corner" - if he could put Lupin in the position where he could only save himself by disregarding the code, he'd most likely not do it. Preferably, Severus could do it without violating it himself; he didn't mind breaking rules, but moderators were extra watchful of Slytherins. He had no intention of being disqualified.
Severus stepped into the library, breathing in the scent of the roomy vault of treasure, musty or crisp pages, waiting patiently for him like no person could. It was little marred by voices, for once; few had the sense of responsibility to finish weekend homework so immediately after gaining freedom.
"Good morning, Mr. Snape," Madam Pince, the hawk-eyed librarian, greeted him in a barely audible whisper. Severus wondered if she didn't have a method of Apparation of some sort within her domain; she guarded her sacred library zealously. But he was one of the few on good terms with her, mainly because he didn't find her protectiveness of books laughable.
"Madam Pince," Severus nodded.
"Is there anything I can get for you?"
"No." He wandered off, finding the quietest, most seclusive section of the place. Today it just so happened to be the specialised research area. He had read most of them; colourful, almost useless odds and bits happened to be his idea of great fun.
"Morning. Noon. Evening. Midnight. You're too predictable, Snape."
Severus, interrupted from the process of choosing his latest read, turned sharply to see Professor Liqumbaug. How the imposing Head of Slytherin managed to stay hidden was anybody's guess. Severus wished he knew; knowledge was power and camouflage was a highly useful tool.
Right now Liqumbaug seemed to expect him to answer. Severus shrugged. "Routine can be comforting."
Liqumbaug chuckled as he relaxed against one of the bookshelves. "You've a reply for everything, don't you?"
"Except that," Severus agreed.
Liqumbaug regarded him appraisingly. "Don't you worry you might cut yourself on that sharp wit?" His voice was dryly stern, per usual, but sounded vaguely amused and even a little proud.
"Why borrow trouble? And isn't it about the same as not cutting yourself with your own sword?"
"Honestly, lad. If you talk like that to Minerva McGonagall, I've discovered why we're second for the House Cup."
"I don't mean to sound smart. I tell the truth. If everyone thinks it's disrespectful it's their problem."
"Really. Look what a fix you have me in now, young Snape. You've completely steered me off the course I was trying to get the conversation to."
"Well, what direction were you steering it to?" Severus asked brazenly.
"Slow down, you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But if you're so smart, tell me, why are you so afraid?"
-- "Vienna", Billy Joel
TBC (TBC is quickened by reviews, by the way. Criticism, praise, death threats, marriage proposals...)
