Chapter 13
To Forge a New Path

A long time ago at Hogwarts, the founders were having a hastily convened assembly.

"We cannot turn them away," Helga Hufflepuff insisted. "Their families have disowned them as unholy and cursed."

"Are we to become a charity house?" said Rowena Ravenclaw. "While I sympathize with their plight, Helga, it will start a precedent. We may find our doors besieged by more like them."

"If it comes to that, we will deal with it, if it happens," said Godric Gryffindor. "But for now we have two children who need our help. They are at an age whereby they could not survive on their own. We should provide them shelter and schooling until they are able to decide their own path."

Salazar Slytherin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "They are certainly deserving of our protection and shelter. But to teach them ... here? These who have come by their magic by accident do -"

"Nature is not an accident, Salazar. They are one of us. They have been blessed and they must be trained to use that magic." Helga interrupted.

"True enough, but do those born of nonmagic heritage have the same level of magic as we do? I suspect not." Rowena replied. ""I must then question the logic of including them in the same classes as our own exceptional students. It would be a disservice to force our students to learn at the pace of two who will most likely need more instruction."

"What better way to confirm your theory than to observe these two children directly, Rowena," said Godric patiently.

Salazar gazed at his favorite former pupil now grown into full maturity. "Magnus, you brought them here, what say you?"

Magnus Snape rose and addressed his old teachers. "I tested them when they were first brought to me. Their parents thought that they were bewitched and that I, as the local alchemist and apothecary could help them. By my measurements, I have found that they can indeed do rudimentary summoning spells and the like. However, the level of innate magic is much lower that the rest of us. In fact, their levels are so low I find it surprising that they can do magic at all. To my mind, these children are harmless. However, as they grow older, if they remain untrained, they and their magic will become a problem especially to those around them."

Always the optimist, Magnus," Salazar replied with a smile.

"I feel that they should be trained to the highest level each can attain. If you do not want to, then I will attempt to undertake their education though I admit to being a poor teacher."

"Yes, I remember that among your peers you were the one sought out whenever a difficult question arose but the last if help was needed," Rowena commented.

"Our mission is to educate and protect our students. Let us not muddy the waters further by allowing our personal opinions to govern and decide who we teach," said Helga.

"Only children - let us not lose sight of that," Godric urged.

"They are a unique case, perhaps we should see what they can do," Rowena said reasonably. Rowena, Godric and Helga all looked at Salazar waiting for his decision.

"I see that you are all of one spirit in this notion." Salazar stood up and paced upon the floor for a while deep in thought. The others, long used to his habits, waited silently. Salazar sighed deeply. "As they are still children, I will agree. But I sense that this capitulation will prove to be a mistake. Let us hope that the cost will not prove too dear."

"Thank you, Salazar," said Helga. "Though it must pain you so to compromise."

"More than you know," Salazar looked at Magnus. "Well, Magnus, bring in your two whelps so they may be properly introduced."

- -

Hermione resisted the urge to look over the fascinating displays in the Founders Counsel room. Madam Pomfrey said she could give the trustee brief to Professor Snape and if he was conscious she could discuss it briefly with him. She went to one of the side doors and it opened before she could knock. It opened into a long narrow hallway. A companion weaved about in the air moving down the corridor. Hermione followed passing other closed doors. She clutched the briefs tighter to her.

They came to a large room. Inside Snape sat upright in the bed clad in a dark brown short sleeved shirt and what looked like matching pajamas. The restraints were intimidating. The companion hovered over the bed and released the hand and arm restraints. The professor motioned her over. He looked more rested and the circles around his eyes less noticeable.

"I was told I was finally allowed a visitor," he said in a weary voice.

"Well, it's only me," she replied. "I have strict instructions to keep you calm and not start any arguments."

"Will you able to comply with that?"

"I will if you will, Professor."

"You're being presumptious again."

"It's a family trait. I asked." Hermione grinned and Snape's lips quirked up at the corners..

"Well, show me the brief. I'm sure I shall find something that needs correction," Snape took the brief. Hermione noticed that the professor moved slowly and deliberately. His left forearm was covered in bandages. His right arm was coated with a green film. He did not move his left arm much at all.

She sat in a wingchair by the bed. In companionable silence punctuated by an occasional comment, they went over the brief with Hermione making notes on her copy. He closed the brief and sighed. He had a headache from what little reading he had just done.

"I do not see mention of the complaint. Your complaint about me, specifically, Ms Granger."

"We, Professor Mcgonagall and I, agreed that since you reduced the points you took off, I had to withdraw my complaint."

"You've had a change of heart and do not want to get rid of me after all?"

"You have your uses, Professor." Hermione stood up. "I should go. I have a planning meeting next and you need your rest."

"Wait, Ms. Granger, I need you to do something for me."

"You're asking for my help? You?" she arched her eyebrow at him.

"Do not be obtuse. You are the only one here who else would I be asking. If you do not want to then- "

"I'd love to help, professor. I was just surprised."

"Very well. Go to my office. In the upper right hand drawer, you will find a silver and cream envelope. When you are able, bring it to me here. I have adjusted my wards to accept you."

"You did?" Hermione collected the briefs. Snape leaned back into his pillows.

"I did so when you became an official member of the Club, Ms. Granger. You also now have access to my restricted stores."

"Thank you! Can I have one more request?"

"I give you one thing and you ask for another. What is it? Make it quick." His voice had a bit of its usual impatient snap.

"Access to the Eyrie library. I promise I will adhere to all the rules on their use, though some are incredibly draconian. We don't live in the fifteenth century anymore, professor and -"

Severus held up a hand. "Enough. I will discuss the matter with Longbottom. Please ask him to see me. Will that be all, then?"

"Just one more thing," Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what I said about you before, professor. If I'd known what I know now, well ... too late to take anything back, but I would if I could."

"Let us be honest, Ms. Granger. You would not take anything back and neither would I."

"You're right, I wouldn't." Hermione grinned. "But I could have said it better. You are the teacher and I've found that there is a lot I don't know."

As he watched her leave, his mind went back to an afternoon some weeks back.

The potions class had been an unmitigated disaster that day - three explosions, one melted cauldron and six students sent to the infirmary. His control had snapped and he raged at the class commenting on their ineptitude and general sloppiness reducing most of the girls, save one, to tears. He had dismissed them and as the students were leaving Hermione Granger walked to his desk literally quivering with outrage.

"Yes, Ms. Granger? What do you want?"

"I am informing you that as a prefect, I am filing a formal complaint against you, Professor. That was ... was - "

"I am what I am, Ms. Granger. It was not my destiny to be born under a temperate star." Snape said.

"You could try to curb your more abrasive tendencies, Professor."

"But I prefer not to, Ms Granger, nor do I see any need to."

"I hear all their complaints, Professor. The class would learn more if they weren't so terrified of you."

"I highly doubt that."

"But why do you go out of your way to be disagreeable when you don't have to be? It's illogical."

"I assure you it takes little effort. If my mother is to be believed, I acquired my present temperament at birth."

"And you have improved upon that with generous dollops of surliness and sarcasm. You have my congratulations, Professor, on a job well done."

"I accept my shortcomings, Ms. Granger. Have you? You were obviously born within sight distance of a pernicious, meddlesome star."

Red faced, Hermione retorted "My family acknowledges my tendency to be drawn to hopeless causes. Consider yourself off my list, Professor. Your reformation is beyond my capacity or anyone else's, I suspect."

Snape had been enjoying their articulte bantering but that last comment was too much. He lashed out malevolently. "I shall add impertinent presumptiousness to my inventory of your character and deduct points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger - one hundred points!"

"One hundred points!? You'll need to discuss that with Professor McGonagall!"

"Oh, I will, you may be certain of that. You, Ms. Granger, need to remember who the teacher is. You are here to learn not to preach."

"I'm not learning much in class as it is! You are more a hindrance than a help!"

"That's another fifty, Ms Granger." Snape said through gritted teeth. "For your attitude and disrespect, I have half a mind to deduct fifty points for every statement you've made thus far."

Too furious to do more than splutter helplessly, Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and marched out of the room. Snape returned to his papers but inwardly he was fuming. Didn't that girl have any appreciation?! How could she berate him for not doing anything to help? Wasn't he contemplating consorting with demons for the sole purpose of finding a way to end the threat of Voldemort? If he was successful, muggle-borns like her could live and learn in peace. Wasn't that worth a little consideration from that interfering chit?

An hour later, Professor McGonagall came in holding a rolled parchment. She slapped the parchment on his work table. "Well, Severus, was this really necessary?"

"It would not be necessary if Ms Granger did not feel like she had carte blanche to question her teachers whenever the whim strikes her," Snape answered while sorting through several ingredients.

"She was trying to help you improve your class."

"Which is not her concern, Minerva. Nor did I solicit any helpful comments from her."

"Severus, your classes have the highest complaint rates in all of Hogwarts. You overtook Binns and Filch years ago."

"Is that right? Then I gladly accept the honor however dubious." Severus made a few notations in his work log detailing the recipe of his version of the Consula Econtra.

"This complaint will need to be in the trustees report this quarter, Severus, unless she withdraws it."

"Yet another valid reason to call for my removal. The student body will be overjoyed I'm sure."

"Severus, please, this is serious. Why do you always have these disagreements with Ms Granger? None of the other teachers have had as many issues with her as you do."

"Your protégé is universally admired by the staff as a model student. She sees you as a role model. Filius and Vector praise her every chance they get. She fawned over Lockhart, admired Lupin despite what he is. However, with me, her behavior is abominable. She talks back. She is sometimes disruptive in class. And she persists in helping Longbottom despite my orders to desist." Snape explained. "I am at a loss as to why she behaves so only with me."

"I see. She stands up to you and all your defense mechanisms flare up."

"I do not get defensive. I have no cause to be defensive. Go psychoanalyze someone else, Minerva. Why does she feel the need to critique my class? I have taught the same way for years. Potions is an exacting art and it must be taught with rigorous discipline and method."

"She does have a compulsive tendency to want to help. She probably senses that you need the most help." Minerva tapped her fingers on the table's edge. "Ever since she became a prefect this year she has been very interested in improvements to the school."

"I laud her good intentions while deploring her persistence." Said Snape

"You're tired, Severus, and it makes you more irritable. You have to get some rest.."

"We're all tired, Minerva, but we cannot rest just yet. You know why we cannot."

"You are on a killing pace. It will catch up with you."

"I'll deal with it then."

"I have spoken with Ms Granger about this. I have asked her to discuss her issues with me instead of approaching you first." Said Professor Mcgonagall. "I would like a moratorium on conflicts between you two."

"Very well. I promise to hold my tongue. Will that serve?" Snape compromised.

"Yes.. for now. It looks like you're almost ready." .

"I will attempt my first summoning tomorrow night. Wish me luck," He closed the log and turned to look at his colleague.

"Are you sure this is the only way? Dark magic has a great cost."

"We cannot stay as we are waiting for the Blessing to completely fade. We have the time now and we must use it. We cannot rely solely on the headmaster." Snape looked pensive. "As for the cost, the saying let the punishment fit the crime applies very well."

Back in the present, Severus Snape dealt with his current predicament in the only way he could. He slept and slept and slept.

- -

Peter Pettigrew opened the door of the farmhouse carefully. It had been a strange unpredictable day all in all. First, all the food that his lord had consumed today from breakfast to dinner. The evidence was piled high on a table in one side of the house. His lord had then wanted clothes, muggle and wizard fashions. Then, a bed. He was bringing the item with him now. Pettigrew was never very good at transfiguration so he had had to find a real bed and shrink it.

Voldemort instructed him where to position the bed. The dark lord himself enlarged it. Wormtail looked at the soft featherbed longingly. All the activity had tired him out. He was looking forward to an early retirement to his own bed tonight.

"Thank you, Wormtail. That will be all. You have been a great help today."

"I am here to serve you, my lord. I will return with breakfast in the morning."

- -

Professor Sybil Trelawney stretched out on the sofa in the Eyrie while Professor Vector made them some coffee. "Calvin, I have never casted so many oblivates in my life as I have tonight. Someone should have warned me."

"It's a weekend, Sybil, and Las Vegas is much busier on weekends." Vector stirred his cappucino and put Sybil's latte on a tray. He took a seat in one of the armchairs.

"Now I know why Sinistra is always so tired." Sybil took a sip of her drink. "Why were you in such a hurry to leave?"

"Well, I had just cashed in my chips and usually that's when I'm accosted by the establishment's personnel and taken to the cooler." Vector explained. "Usually happens when I break the bank."

"Did you break the bank tonight?"

"Um, yes, all three places."

"Three! Why take such a risk?"

"Were you not the one to tell me that our funds were close to deficit points and that it had to replenished quickly. So, I went to three places and put the maximum bets on several games. I only spent a half hour in each place."

"I'm afraid to ask but I have to. How much is a maximum bet?"

"Oh, anywhere from one thousand to five thousand United States dollars."

"Per game, are you mad?!" She sat up and faced the arithmancy teacher.

"Per hand, Sybil. And I am not mad. I simply calculate probabilities and -"

"You expose our discretionary fund to gross risk relying on luck to . to be on your side?!"

"Well, you divination types would believe in luck. But luck has nothing to do with this. It's the perfectly safe and controlled application of mathematical theory." Neither Sybil nor Vector noticed Professor McGonagall and Hermione come in. They stood off to the side watching the heated byplay.

"You are tempting Fate and Fate does not like to be thwarted," Sybil pointed out. "Next time let me do a reading before you go off."

"Most definitely not!" Vector fairly snarled his response.

"Why not? Are you one of those who believe I got my position because of any other reason but actual talent?"

"For your information, I have never cared one way or the other how you got here nor why you stay. I am opposed because hearing a reading before I go is tantamount to setting myself up for failure. And besides, a reading never decides an actual outcome only a probable one."

"I would rather know if there was a higher chance of losing money before I do anything rather than lose it all just because it wasn't my night." Sybil shot back. "What you are doing is thoughtless and reckless."

"Well, we can't all stay risk-free all our lives," Vector said with some sharpness. "Life is about risk. About letting life happen. Not predicting it."

McGonagall decided to interrupt what could easily degenerate into an all night harangue. "Calvin, what is the tally tonight?" She and Hermione moved to take seats themselves.

Vector pulled himself together, took a deep breath and said "One hundred seventy thousand dollars."

"Minerva, do you know what he's doing?" asked Sybil.

"He is getting results." Said Mcgonagall.

"With the potential of losing the entire discretionary fund in one night." Sybil retorted hotly.

"But I wouldn't" said Vector.

"But you could." Said Sybil.

"But I won't because I won't let it get to that," said Vector. His voice had a dangerous edge that no one in that room had ever heard before. "Sybil, trust me, I guard our funds closely. I am more conservative than you believe in using them. I will never put our funding at risk willingly or knowingly."

"But -"

"That is all I have to say on the subject now or ever. Good night, ladies." Vector glided out of the room leaving two amused females and one who was far from amused.

Mcgonagall shook her head and said looking at Sybil then Hermione. "What is it with you two and difficult men? "

Both Hermione and Sybil answered at the same time "What?!"

McGonagall shook her head. "Nothing, just an observation. Let's get on with this meeting.."

- -

For eight o'clock at night, Malfoy Manor was quiet, too quiet. The three house elves gathered in the kitchen exchanging worried glances. Something was going to happen. They could feel it. The mistress had eaten alone. That was something that never happened. The master had not called on any of them since he had arrived at six from the Ministry. Not for anything.

Narcissa Malfoy hesitated a beat before knocking on the door of her husband's suite. She knew full well that he preferred to be left alone when he was working on something. But, some instinct made her want to see him to make sure that he was all right. She knocked then entered when she heard no response.

She made her way into the bedroom. Under the covers she saw Lucius fast asleep. On the nightstand was an empty flask. Probably a sleeping draught, she thought. She kneeled next to him, touched his cheek then brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his face. Lucius stirred but didn't open his eyes. His forehead was cool, normal. She could see new lines on his face. Even in sleep, he looked haggard. He's working too much, she thought. All these years and he was still bent on proving her family wrong about him. She straightened the covers pulling it up to his chin. She stoked the fire adding another log to last the night.

She hesitated at the door and came back in. She wanted to share his bed tonight instead of waiting for him in hers. She slipped off her robe spelling the lights off as she got into bed. For some time she just looked down on him while he slept. She mused on the two men in her life - her husband and son - so alike and so unalike.

- -

The bed was so soft and inviting. Voldemort was enjoying a deep, restful slumber. His tests had been successful. His body regenerated best at night so he would drain more energy at night. While in the daytime he would drain only a small fraction from his followers. He surmised that eventually he would no longer need to leech energy just to sustain his body. In several months, his body would be fully healed. In the meantime, he would enjoy his leisure. He had missed too many pleasures for too long. He would plan the breakout of the LesStranges next week but tonight he would dream. This was an indulgence denied to him when he was still incorporeal.

- -

In the middle of the night at the manor house, Narcissa arched her hips wanting to be even closer to her husband. Lucius, eyes still closed. leaned over her his weight borne on his arms. His thrusts were hard almost frantic. He had awakened her with a hard squeeze of her breast and an insistent fondling below. Surprised but pleased, she returned his actions discovering that he was more than ready for more. She welcomed her husband into her embrace. He didn't kiss her. Instead he aroused her to a fever pitch by suckling, laving and nipping at her breasts while his hand incited erotic responses between her thighs. It wasn't long before she was more than ready herself.

Now she gripped his forearms lost to sensation parrying and thrusting back keeping the primitive rhythm going between them. He said no words but let the demands of his body speak for him as he availed himself of her flesh with teeth-jarring force. She found herself responding to the harsh treatment needing more of it as her peak approached. He obliged her need and her cries grew fervent. Her nails raked a trail down his back but he felt nothing. Nothing but the manic joy of release. With a final deep thrust, Narcissa found her pleasure and Lucius ground into her hard and deep. His arms gave out and he laid atop her breathing hard. She cradled his head as it rested on her chest running her hands through his hair murmuring those words too private for other ears but her husband's.

- -

In the middle of the night at the gray farmhouse, Voldemort let out a hoarse cry at the culmination of a too vivid dream. As he lay there, hot, sweaty and tangled in his sheets, he marvelled that everything was definitely in working order. He settled back to dream again. Once was not going to be enough.

- -

Lucius stirred. His hands traced down the length of his wife's long, shapely legs. He dropped kisses on her belly as he moved lower settling himself between her spread thighs. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating and he dipped and caressed her there. She gripped the sheets gasping his name over and over as he took her offering.

Their passion went on all night each taking turns pleasuring the other.. The next day found them with their arms around each other spoon fashion. Lucius remembered snatches of what happened. He looked down at his sleeping wife. There were few times he felt completely happy. This was one of those times when he could look and marvel at the woman who had defied her family to marry him. She was so precious to him. He was going to do it - show her entire family that they were wrong about him. He was going to shower Narcissa with honor and riches beyond imagining. He would see to it and nothing was going to stop him.