Chapter III: Return to the Dark Order
Severus would have liked to spend the afternoon of his first day of term thinking about his conversation with Rosier. The possibility of revenge against Potter and Black was tantalizing. Over the years, he'd often fantasized about gaining some redress against the four-eyed prat and his moronic companions. However, he hadn't before thought it worth risking expulsion to do so. But Rosier had been right; the situation was becoming unbearable. If he didn't act soon, the next three years would be a nightmare of attacks and counter-attacks of escalating frequency and violence.
As the day progressed, visions of deliciously painful retribution were overshadowed by growing anticipation about that evening's meeting with Lestrange. Despite Severus' best efforts, he couldn't guess the purpose of the meeting, which increased his anxiety. He didn't feel that he could discuss the matter with Rosier; it seemed like a private matter between him and Lestrange. During History of Magic that afternoon, Rosier shot him a couple of strange looks. He obviously remembered the upcoming appointment as well, and was apparently curious about it.
After an afternoon in Professor Binns' classroom, the now almost comatose fifth-year Slytherins returned to their common room. While the other four boys dug out their Defence textbooks to begin Professor Ames' assignment, Severus dropped his books off in his dormitory and headed to his meeting. Rosier watched him owlishly as he headed for the staircase leading to the prefects' rooms.
"What?" he snapped at his friend.
"Nothing," Rosier replied as he dropped his attention back to his book.
"Where are you off to?" Avery asked as Severus continued on.
"Mind your own business, Avery," he replied without turning back as he entered the dark stone stairwell.
Severus could feel his nerves jumping as he descended the tightly turning, closed staircase. His chest felt tight and his breath short as his mind speculated about the possible reasons for the meeting. As he headed down the corridor, he passed Veronica Flint-Gore. He ignored her icy glare as he stopped outside Keech's room and raised his hand to knock. He felt her eyes still on him and he turned to watch her staring as she waited at the bottom of the stairs to the common room.
"What?" Severus said to her irritably. She drew herself up to her considerable height and glared down her equine nose at him, her green eyes filled with disdain.
"Good luck," she replied slowly with a dismissive tone. He snorted in reply as he turned back to the door. Just as he was about to knock on the heavy oak, the door opened quickly, revealing Rabastan Lestrange's dark eyes looking up at him. How does he manage to be so damned condescending looking up everyone's nostrils like that? he thought as Lestrange turned and walked back into the room. Severus followed and quietly closed the door behind him. Sitting near the cheery fire was the seventh-year prefect and Slytherin Quidditch captain, Christopher Keech. Lestrange sat in the opposite chair, his back to the door. The three of them were alone in the small sitting room.
"Take a seat, Snape," Keech said with a faint smile, gesturing to the sofa facing the fire between the two chairs. Severus sat and looked from Keech's friendly face to Lestrange's black glare. Severus' nerves were urging him to break the uncomfortable quiet, but three years of knowing these young men curbed his tongue. Lestrange would demand precedence in this gathering. After a few more seconds, Lestrange settled further back into his chair, almost disappearing into the overstuffed cushions. He let a supercilious smile briefly cross his face as he steepled his fingers under his chin, and broke the heavy silence.
"I'm sure you've guessed by now why we wanted to speak with you," Lestrange said slowly, apparently savouring his dominion.
Severus carefully hid his incomprehension. I'm supposed to be a Legilimens now? he thought, keeping his expression blank. He lifted the corners of his mouth very slightly and raised his eyebrows as his only reply. He knew that this was, as always, some kind of test.
"I'm not going to waste our time with preliminaries, Snape. We're men of action, not debate," Lestrange continued in his patented reedy drawl. Severus repressed a snort. He stifled his instinct to glance over to Keech to see the other young man's response and perhaps garner some clue as to what this meeting was about. He forced himself to continue meeting Lestrange's eyes. "I spent some time at the Manor this summer, and Malfoy and I discussed the future of our little group," Lestrange continued. Severus nodded slightly, as if Lestrange was only confirming what he already knew. Inside, his heart was thumping loudly and he was glad of the stifling heat in the small room, which could provide an excuse for the flush he felt creeping over his pallid cheeks.
"Lucius takes considerable interest, of course; he is our founder," Severus replied, inwardly proud of how steady he kept his voice. He doubted that even Lestrange's sharp ears could detect his excitement. Severus chanced a glance at Keech, who was watching him with his usual deceptive mild expression, the corners of his narrow mouth slightly turned up, his long legs stretched out over the hearth rug like a large, lazy cat basking in the heat of the fire. At that moment, he realised how much Burke modelled his behaviour and mannerisms on those of his Quidditch captain.
"Yes, he is our guiding light, isn't he?" Lestrange replied. Severus turned back to face the small young man, trying to decipher his undertones. Lestrange propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and laced his delicate fingers together under his chin. "Succession planning is vital to the long-term success of any organisation."
Severus' heart leapt in his chest and his head buzzed with the realisation of where the conversation was going. He hid his excitement as he replied calmly, "Of course." He kept his eyes firmly locked with Lestrange's, matching the intensity of the young man's stare.
"Bella, Keech and I are leaving in June. We need to look to the future to ensure our Lord's great work is continued." Lestrange paused for a moment, briefly glancing over to Keech before again pinning Severus with his dark eyes.
"Of course," Severus replied again, his mind whirling. "Hogwarts is key to our Lord's success. Identifying appropriate individuals and bringing them to our Lord's work is fundamental to his cause," Severus stuttered slightly, afraid that he was starting to babble like a first-year Hufflepuff. "Countering the indoctrination and lies of the Muggle-lovers is imperative, not just to our cause, but to the survival of our world," he finished quickly, gradually regaining his former composure. Severus felt a wave of relief wash through him as he saw Lestrange glance to Keech again, a thin smile gracing the young man's sharp features.
"So, you think this is the most important work of our group?" the prefect asked quietly. Severus turned to face the him. He was beginning to feel that he was in a job interview. The nerves, the carefully chosen wording of the questions, the sense of weight accorded to every word of his responses, and the feeling that he was being very closely inspected were what he imagined a job interview would be like. Severus felt a thin rivulet of sweat slide down his back as his nervousness returned. He was accustomed to the cold of the Slytherin common room, and the combination of his anxiety and the sauna-like conditions in the small room was making him feel overheated and light headed. He shifted on Keech's sofa to face the young man.
"Partly. And to serve our Lord's cause in whatever way required of us." Severus paused. "To bring others to his cause. Carefully selected people." He glanced over to Lestrange for a moment before turning back to Keech's mild, encouraging half-smile. Severus licked his thin lips nervously as he racked his brain for more to say. He didn't think that he was doing very well.
"Anything else?" Lestrange asked, a hint of something Severus couldn't identify in the young man's voice.
"I - " Severus began.
"The identification and training of future leaders in our Lord's cause," Lestrange interrupted imperiously. Severus saw the familiar, fanatical gleam in Lestrange's deep-set eyes. "People who will lead his forces. People who will be his closest advisors, who will be his most loyal servants, promoting his noble cause wherever and however necessary."
Severus forced himself to not look away from Lestrange's almost hypnotic gaze. No one said anything for a few seconds. Excitement fought with nervousness, making Severus feel short of breath. He realized he had to remain composed and fully alert if he was to successfully negotiate the conversational mine field the two young men were drawing him into.
"Of course," he replied, smoothly.
"So, you see the importance of who succeeds Lestrange." Keech picked up the thread of conversation from his fellow seventh-year. "When we leave," he glanced briefly from Severus to Lestrange, "almost the last direct connection to Malfoy leaves. We have to be very careful about who we choose to follow us. The group's success, especially regarding recruitment, will depend on him."
"Of course," Severus replied again, not wanting to say anything that might jeopardize his position, but mentally berating himself; he was starting to sound like an idiot, saying 'of course' over and over again.
"We've been impressed with you, Snape," Keech continued, his smile widening a little as he spoke. "You will soon be the last person here chosen by Malfoy himself; your family's connection to the Malfoys goes back generations, but you've never abused that position, at least, not that I've ever seen. Your obvious devotion to the cause have been noted for some time." Keech paused to glance at Lestrange. Severus turned to follow the look and saw the other young man nod slightly in apparent agreement. His heart pounding, Severus turned back to Keech as the older boy continued speaking. "However, your public battles with a certain group of Gryffindors has caused some doubts ... "
Severus blanched as he felt his stomach clench in anger. If that bastard Potter costs me this, I will kill him with my bare hands.
"I understand your situation. Don't misunderstand me; I hate the twit as much as you do." Severus smiled slightly at Keech's words. "Unlike you, though, I have an acceptable way to exact some sort of revenge. I understand your frustration, but - "
"This feud reflects badly on your judgement, Snape." Lestrange interrupted again. "It doesn't do to draw that kind of attention to yourself." He paused. "The reality of our situation is that, while Dumbledore is Headmaster, we must operate in secret, as you know. Anything that draws any extra attention from the staff jeopardizes all of us and our work here. Ames is already suspicious. Slytherin or not, the woman was an Auror for decades." Severus gave a small smirk as he noted the flash of repugnance as Lestrange said the word 'Auror.' The past career of their Head of House was a matter of considerable bad feeling for many Slytherins. They felt that Dumbledore had recruited her to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts and head Slytherin solely because her past career provided her with exceptional spying skills, which she used against her own House. "She knows something is going on under her nose, but can't prove anything. That is because we have been discreet. We cannot afford any extra scrutiny. Your ridiculous battles with Potter and his gang of half-wits is beneath someone in your situation and it endangers our work here."
My situation, Severus thought. What exactly is my situation? In his mind, Severus demanded clarification. Were they going to offer him the position or not?
"A true leader puts the needs of the mission above personal grudges and desires," Keech continued. Severus nodded, looking from one face to the other.
"I think you understand the situation," Lestrange said as he gave Severus a smile that made the young man's face resemble a skull in the firelight. Not entirely, Severus thought ruefully. Lestrange stood and the others immediately followed. Severus had the feeling he should shake their hands, but resisted the impulse. Lestrange escorted him to the door and, after perfunctory good-byes, Severus left.
He walked quickly to the staircase back to the common room. Halfway up, he stopped and leaned back against the cold stone wall. His mind raced, reviewing parts of the conversation as he waited for his pounding heart to return to normal. As he wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his robes, he noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. "Idiot," he muttered to himself.
Once his nervousness had subsided, Severus was overcome by a sense of elation. Lestrange was seriously considering choosing him as his successor, to follow in his and Malfoy's footsteps! Lestrange was considering passing over sixth years to choose him!
Or was he? Much had been alluded to, but nothing had been stated outright. While in Keech's room, talking to the two older boys, Severus had been so sure that that was what they were discussing. Now his certainty evaporated. His stomach lurched sharply as he thought that maybe they'd just wanted him to suggest someone. What kind of test was this?
Severus tilted his head back against the stone and groaned. He felt exhausted; the short but stressful conversation had drained him of what little energy he'd had left after a full day of lessons. As he continued up the stairs and back to his dormitory, he carefully weighed the possible meanings of the conversation.
That evening, while his dorm-mates sat in the common room doing homework, he lay on his bed replaying the conversation in his head, carefully examining and analysing looks, tones, implications, and possible concealed meanings. The only conclusion he could come to was that Lestrange and Keech were seriously considering him for the position.
Half-formed schemes flew across the surface of his mind as he imagined himself leading their group. After leaving Hogwarts, what door would be closed to him? He would be able to take his rightful place in the world, his place by right of talent, intellect and power. He would not be limited to the pitiful role that his father's place in wizarding society would consign him to. He gave a contented sigh as he imagined himself at the side of the Dark Lord's most powerful supporters, not as a dependent, not as a servant, but as an equal.
It was not until the next morning that Severus remembered Lestrange and Keech's words regarding Potter.
- -
During the following week, Rosier approached Severus a number of times regarding revenge plotting. Each time, Severus brushed him off, using a variety of excuses. After the fifth rebuff, Rosier gave him a very strange look, as they left their Ancient Runes lesson. But Lestrange and Keech's words were at the back of Severus' mind at all times, and they worried him.
In truth, Severus was terribly conflicted. His two greatest desires were now in direct opposition. He felt he might finally be able to get revenge against Potter after four years of torment. However, Lestrange had implied that this could very well cost him the opportunity to succeed the seventh year as the leader of the Dark Order group that Malfoy had founded at Hogwarts five years before.
Severus had no illusions about his opportunities after Hogwarts if his situation didn't change before then: decades of underappreciated, efficient obscurity, just like his father. Like his father, and other Snapes before him, Severus would be expected to be grateful for the "honour" of clinging to the cloak-hem of a Malfoy for the rest of his life. Gaining the prize of succeeding Lestrange could break this pattern of dependence. He desperately wanted something other than to follow in the footsteps of generations of Snapes before him. He wanted a future where he was a leader, not just some potions-making flunky, one of the many functionaries working in the shadow and under the thumb of a Malfoy.
Lestrange had tantalized him with the possibility of that other future, and Severus had no intention of jeopardizing it. But about Potter .... Rosier had been right. That situation had to be resolved, for once and for all. His pride and justice itself demanded some sort of revenge for years of stupid pranks and unprovoked attacks. And it wasn't as though they were ever punished, he thought to himself as he sat in History of Magic the following Monday afternoon, idly playing Hangman with Burke at the back of the classroom. He smirked as Burke drew round glasses on the stick figure drawn in the corner of his otherwise empty parchment. McGonagall's inaction regarding Potter and Black had always been strange. She was so strict with everyone else. And Dumbledore was worse; the old man couldn't have been more indulgent if Potter had been his own son.
This, as much as anything else, enraged Severus. The unfairness of it had eaten away at him for years. All he wanted was justice. And if the staff weren't going to punish the errant Gryffindors, he was morally obligated to show them the error of their ways, wasn't he?
That evening, Severus was hidden away in the back of the library, working on a Defence assignment, when Rosier finally cornered him. To Severus' annoyance, Avery was with him.
"There you are," Rosier said as he dropped his satchel on top of a pile of books. Severus looked up at his two classmates with a scowl on his face.
"You've been avoiding us, Snape," Avery continued as he sat in the only other chair.
"Why are you here, Avery?" Severus asked angrily.
"Rosier told me about the plan. It's brilliant ... "
"There is no plan, Avery," he interrupted, casting an angry glare up at Rosier, who looked smug.
"And who's to blame for that?" Rosier replied as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"I'm busy, Rosier," Severus growled as he turned his attention back to his parchment.
"What's the matter with you? A week ago you were all for this. Now you're backing out," Rosier said, perplexed.
"I've changed ... I'm busy. I don't have time for this right now." Severus felt his face flush at the obvious lie. "And I cannot believe you told him," he continued, gesturing irritably at Avery with his quill.
"Hey! I want to see those two get some of their own medicine, too."
"Really," Severus drawled in response to his classmate's huffy tones. "And how many times have you been attacked in the corridors, Avery?"
"We all want to see them get their comeuppance, Snape. What made you change your mind?" Rosier asked.
Severus looked up and saw a hard look on Rosier's face. He knew his friend suspected that his stalling was related to his meeting with Lestrange. "I haven't changed my mind. I just ..."
"Well, then. Let's get planning," Avery interrupted a little too loudly. A moment later, Madam Pince poked her head around a nearby stack and shushed them, a scowl on her face.
"Let's go back to the common room," Rosier suggested as he picked up his satchel.
Severus sighed and closed his book. "No. I don't want anyone else knowing about this."
"You've got to be joking. You know everyone'll want to help," Avery replied, barely able to keep his voice down.
Severus silently glanced between Rosier and Avery a few times before replying, keeping his voice low. "No one else can know about this."
"Burke'll want to - " Avery protested.
Severus shot him a quelling glare. "Not even Burke. No one. Have you said anything to him?" he asked Avery.
"No, not a word. I just found out today. Rosier didn't want to tell me."
"But he did." Thank you, Rosier, you prat. Tell the second worst gossip in Slytherin, why don't you. Rosier had the good sense to look somewhat chastised. With a heavy sigh, Severus leaned back in the hard library chair and crossed his arms. He feigned an interest in the moldy history books on a nearby shelf as he pondered the merits of various ways out of his current situation. The idea of revenge was so tempting. And if there was a way that no one would suspect them, not even other Slytherins, well then ....
Rosier put his satchel on the floor and left, returning a few moments later with another chair. He sat and quietly waited with Avery for Severus to speak again.
Severus looked from Rosier's smirk to Avery's anxious excitement and, knowing he would probably regret his decision later, spoke. "First of all, no one can know about this." He heard Avery deflate slightly in relief.
"What do - " Avery sputtered, then stopped as Rosier raised his left hand to silence him.
"Whatever we do cannot, under any circumstances, be traced back to us by anyone," Severus continued.
"Why not? You'd be a hero, finally getting back - " Avery countered, perplexed.
"Because we don't want to be expelled, you idiot," Rosier snapped. Avery's face fell. Severus noticed the calculating gleam in Rosier's eyes; he knew his friend's mind was whirling through the possible reasons for the secrecy, even within their own house.
"None of the Slytherins would tell," Avery replied, sulking.
"We don't know that, Avery. Do you trust Horrell not to go to Ames or Dumbledore?" Severus asked acerbically. "If any staff find out, it goes straight to Dumbledore and we're all out on our ear. You may not need qualifications, but I do, and I have no desire to spend three years at Durmstrang." A look of petulant anger crossed Avery's face, which irritated Severus even more. Spoiled brat. For a moment, he contemplated the perils of including Avery in any enterprise requiring discretion.
"Okay, fine." Rosier clapped his hands once and rubbed them together for a few seconds, apparently happy that they were finally making a start.
You'd think this was about his revenge, Severus thought to himself ruefully as he watched a gleeful grin take over his friend's expression. However, the sight of it leavened his heavy doubts for a moment.
"It's agreed then. Absolute secrecy is our first priority," Rosier continued, ignoring the scowl Severus knew was on his face. He picked at a hangnail idly, waiting for Rosier to try to take over the proceedings. "Well, the way I see it, we really only have three choices: hexes, potions, or some kind of accident, perhaps during a lesson."
"Potions are out of the question," Severus replied sharply as he thought to himself, Why in Merlin's name has Rosier put so much thought into this?
"Why? You're brilliant at potions, Snape. I bet you'd come up with something even Brax couldn't trace."
The gushing made Severus feel slightly nauseated, but he couldn't help feeling gratified by the praise, even coming from a complete dunderhead like Avery. He smirked at both of them before answering sarcastically. "Use your head, Avery. Imagine the scene: Potter is sick, obviously by some fiendishly-contrived potion. It can't be the work of a staff member, can it? Of course not! They all love the bastard, don't they? It must be a student. Now, who are the few students able to brew such a thing? And of them, which is Potter's enemy of long standing?" He cocked an eyebrow.
Avery sighed dejectedly. "I see what you mean."
"That leaves us with some kind of hex, probably; an accident is too hard to set up, especially in a classroom. The teachers are too security-conscious," Rosier said as he leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head, causing the sleeves of his robes to billow out from his bent elbows like black wings. The boys were silent, each mulling over various hexes and jinxes. "The problem is secrecy, of course," Rosier continued. "I mean, we want it to be public, for the embarrassment value, but we have to be able to do it so no one sees it's us."
"We'll still be suspected," Severus replied dryly. "Ideally we would not actually be present. That would give us a stronger alibi. A time-delayed or event-triggered hex or jinx, perhaps."
"Hmm. That's really advanced Charms work, you know. Event triggered hexes and that sort of thing," Avery said.
"I know, I know," Rosier replied, then pursed his lips in an expression of extreme concentration. Severus thought it made him look like an acne-plagued, constipated vole. Rosier glanced back at him, his expression shifting to become blank. Severus could tell his friend was angry about something. "It really is a pity you don't want anyone else to know about this. Lestrange or Bellatrix Black would know how to do this. They'd teach us how if they knew what it was for."
Severus put all his resolve into keeping his expression as neutral as possible. Quit fishing, Rosier, he thought angrily. His friend's curiosity about his meeting with Lestrange had been getting on his nerves all week. He knew the mention of the seventh-year was a deliberate attempt to get a reaction; Lestrange was no better at Charms than anyone else. He gave Rosier a tight, humourless smile. "I think the fewer people involved, the better. Imagine Potter's glee at clearing out half of Slytherin House if we were found out. We certainly wouldn't make any friends getting others expelled." Ha, so there, Rosier. Severus knew that playing on Rosier's greatest weakness, his desire to ingratiate himself with the more prominent Slytherins, would get his friend to finally shut up about the whole Lestrange situation.
"Who says we'll get caught?" Avery asked. Severus turned to him, barely able to restrain his impatience with the boy's inability to think even one step ahead without someone giving him a map.
"Because what we're planning will require considerable skill, likely the application of dark magic of some kind, flawless execution and, unfortunately, quite a bit of luck." He paused. "There is another problem. Potter is never alone. Black is always by his side and will notice anything suspicious. If anything happens to Potter, I will automatically be suspected and Dumbledore will not bother with niceties like evidence when pursuing anyone who dares to disturb his precious Perfect Potter." Severus spat out the last words. "The prank itself is secondary to the execution. We must not be caught." He saw Rosier give him a thoughtful look before replying.
"When were you thinking of doing this?"
"We discussed before something to keep him out of the Slytherin-Gryffindor match," Severus replied, dropping his voice to just above a whisper. He was happy to see the familiar devilish twinkle return to Rosier's eyes at the mention of their previous conversation.
"November, then," Avery whispered.
"Halloween at the latest," Rosier countered thoughtfully. "To have the plan at least. We'll probably need some time to actually execute it."
"Or Potter." Avery grinned, looking from Rosier's impassive face to Severus' scowl. His grin evaporated.
"Really, Avery. Do you intend on spending the rest of your life in Azkaban? I certainly do not, so rule number two is no permanent damage of any kind." Severus paused and glanced back to Rosier. "Incapacity, excruciating pain, and socially debilitating public humiliation are all desirable, of course," he smirked, "but not absolutely essential." Rosier chuckled and Avery guffawed loudly, earning another shushing from Madam Pince.
"So, what now?" Rosier asked as he glared at the back of the departing librarian.
"Research," Severus replied and stifled Avery's groan with a fierce glare. "I think our best bet is some kind of event triggered or time-delayed hex or jinx." The other boys nodded in agreement. "We know quite a few hexes. It's a matter of knowing how to make them active after they're cast. So, that's what we focus on."
"Do you have something specific in mind?" Rosier asked.
"I have two or three suitable candidates."
"You do realise that what we'll need is going to be in the Restricted Section?" Rosier stated dryly.
"I know. We'll need ..." Severus' voice drifted off as his attention was drawn by an idea that popped into his mind. "Just ... I have an idea. I'll tell Brax I want to do some advanced research for OWLs. He won't suspect anything."
"Good thinking," Rosier replied with a smirk that Severus soon matched. Rosier glanced at his watch. "Almost nine o'clock. Time to get back." He stood and picked up his satchel.
"Not a word to anyone," Severus said in warning tones to Avery. "Not anyone - no hints, no thinly veiled allusions, no knowing nudges in the Great Hall, nothing."
"Okay, okay," Avery replied. Severus didn't care that Avery was insulted by the implication that it would be him that let slip their secret. He was still very angry with Rosier for telling Avery, of all people.
As the three boys made their way to the Slytherin common room, Severus discovered that he felt better than he had in days. The tightness constricting his chest for the past week had loosened a little. The more he thought about their plan, the more confident he became that, with some luck, they might just pull it off. He might just get both his dreams to come true.
Severus would have liked to spend the afternoon of his first day of term thinking about his conversation with Rosier. The possibility of revenge against Potter and Black was tantalizing. Over the years, he'd often fantasized about gaining some redress against the four-eyed prat and his moronic companions. However, he hadn't before thought it worth risking expulsion to do so. But Rosier had been right; the situation was becoming unbearable. If he didn't act soon, the next three years would be a nightmare of attacks and counter-attacks of escalating frequency and violence.
As the day progressed, visions of deliciously painful retribution were overshadowed by growing anticipation about that evening's meeting with Lestrange. Despite Severus' best efforts, he couldn't guess the purpose of the meeting, which increased his anxiety. He didn't feel that he could discuss the matter with Rosier; it seemed like a private matter between him and Lestrange. During History of Magic that afternoon, Rosier shot him a couple of strange looks. He obviously remembered the upcoming appointment as well, and was apparently curious about it.
After an afternoon in Professor Binns' classroom, the now almost comatose fifth-year Slytherins returned to their common room. While the other four boys dug out their Defence textbooks to begin Professor Ames' assignment, Severus dropped his books off in his dormitory and headed to his meeting. Rosier watched him owlishly as he headed for the staircase leading to the prefects' rooms.
"What?" he snapped at his friend.
"Nothing," Rosier replied as he dropped his attention back to his book.
"Where are you off to?" Avery asked as Severus continued on.
"Mind your own business, Avery," he replied without turning back as he entered the dark stone stairwell.
Severus could feel his nerves jumping as he descended the tightly turning, closed staircase. His chest felt tight and his breath short as his mind speculated about the possible reasons for the meeting. As he headed down the corridor, he passed Veronica Flint-Gore. He ignored her icy glare as he stopped outside Keech's room and raised his hand to knock. He felt her eyes still on him and he turned to watch her staring as she waited at the bottom of the stairs to the common room.
"What?" Severus said to her irritably. She drew herself up to her considerable height and glared down her equine nose at him, her green eyes filled with disdain.
"Good luck," she replied slowly with a dismissive tone. He snorted in reply as he turned back to the door. Just as he was about to knock on the heavy oak, the door opened quickly, revealing Rabastan Lestrange's dark eyes looking up at him. How does he manage to be so damned condescending looking up everyone's nostrils like that? he thought as Lestrange turned and walked back into the room. Severus followed and quietly closed the door behind him. Sitting near the cheery fire was the seventh-year prefect and Slytherin Quidditch captain, Christopher Keech. Lestrange sat in the opposite chair, his back to the door. The three of them were alone in the small sitting room.
"Take a seat, Snape," Keech said with a faint smile, gesturing to the sofa facing the fire between the two chairs. Severus sat and looked from Keech's friendly face to Lestrange's black glare. Severus' nerves were urging him to break the uncomfortable quiet, but three years of knowing these young men curbed his tongue. Lestrange would demand precedence in this gathering. After a few more seconds, Lestrange settled further back into his chair, almost disappearing into the overstuffed cushions. He let a supercilious smile briefly cross his face as he steepled his fingers under his chin, and broke the heavy silence.
"I'm sure you've guessed by now why we wanted to speak with you," Lestrange said slowly, apparently savouring his dominion.
Severus carefully hid his incomprehension. I'm supposed to be a Legilimens now? he thought, keeping his expression blank. He lifted the corners of his mouth very slightly and raised his eyebrows as his only reply. He knew that this was, as always, some kind of test.
"I'm not going to waste our time with preliminaries, Snape. We're men of action, not debate," Lestrange continued in his patented reedy drawl. Severus repressed a snort. He stifled his instinct to glance over to Keech to see the other young man's response and perhaps garner some clue as to what this meeting was about. He forced himself to continue meeting Lestrange's eyes. "I spent some time at the Manor this summer, and Malfoy and I discussed the future of our little group," Lestrange continued. Severus nodded slightly, as if Lestrange was only confirming what he already knew. Inside, his heart was thumping loudly and he was glad of the stifling heat in the small room, which could provide an excuse for the flush he felt creeping over his pallid cheeks.
"Lucius takes considerable interest, of course; he is our founder," Severus replied, inwardly proud of how steady he kept his voice. He doubted that even Lestrange's sharp ears could detect his excitement. Severus chanced a glance at Keech, who was watching him with his usual deceptive mild expression, the corners of his narrow mouth slightly turned up, his long legs stretched out over the hearth rug like a large, lazy cat basking in the heat of the fire. At that moment, he realised how much Burke modelled his behaviour and mannerisms on those of his Quidditch captain.
"Yes, he is our guiding light, isn't he?" Lestrange replied. Severus turned back to face the small young man, trying to decipher his undertones. Lestrange propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and laced his delicate fingers together under his chin. "Succession planning is vital to the long-term success of any organisation."
Severus' heart leapt in his chest and his head buzzed with the realisation of where the conversation was going. He hid his excitement as he replied calmly, "Of course." He kept his eyes firmly locked with Lestrange's, matching the intensity of the young man's stare.
"Bella, Keech and I are leaving in June. We need to look to the future to ensure our Lord's great work is continued." Lestrange paused for a moment, briefly glancing over to Keech before again pinning Severus with his dark eyes.
"Of course," Severus replied again, his mind whirling. "Hogwarts is key to our Lord's success. Identifying appropriate individuals and bringing them to our Lord's work is fundamental to his cause," Severus stuttered slightly, afraid that he was starting to babble like a first-year Hufflepuff. "Countering the indoctrination and lies of the Muggle-lovers is imperative, not just to our cause, but to the survival of our world," he finished quickly, gradually regaining his former composure. Severus felt a wave of relief wash through him as he saw Lestrange glance to Keech again, a thin smile gracing the young man's sharp features.
"So, you think this is the most important work of our group?" the prefect asked quietly. Severus turned to face the him. He was beginning to feel that he was in a job interview. The nerves, the carefully chosen wording of the questions, the sense of weight accorded to every word of his responses, and the feeling that he was being very closely inspected were what he imagined a job interview would be like. Severus felt a thin rivulet of sweat slide down his back as his nervousness returned. He was accustomed to the cold of the Slytherin common room, and the combination of his anxiety and the sauna-like conditions in the small room was making him feel overheated and light headed. He shifted on Keech's sofa to face the young man.
"Partly. And to serve our Lord's cause in whatever way required of us." Severus paused. "To bring others to his cause. Carefully selected people." He glanced over to Lestrange for a moment before turning back to Keech's mild, encouraging half-smile. Severus licked his thin lips nervously as he racked his brain for more to say. He didn't think that he was doing very well.
"Anything else?" Lestrange asked, a hint of something Severus couldn't identify in the young man's voice.
"I - " Severus began.
"The identification and training of future leaders in our Lord's cause," Lestrange interrupted imperiously. Severus saw the familiar, fanatical gleam in Lestrange's deep-set eyes. "People who will lead his forces. People who will be his closest advisors, who will be his most loyal servants, promoting his noble cause wherever and however necessary."
Severus forced himself to not look away from Lestrange's almost hypnotic gaze. No one said anything for a few seconds. Excitement fought with nervousness, making Severus feel short of breath. He realized he had to remain composed and fully alert if he was to successfully negotiate the conversational mine field the two young men were drawing him into.
"Of course," he replied, smoothly.
"So, you see the importance of who succeeds Lestrange." Keech picked up the thread of conversation from his fellow seventh-year. "When we leave," he glanced briefly from Severus to Lestrange, "almost the last direct connection to Malfoy leaves. We have to be very careful about who we choose to follow us. The group's success, especially regarding recruitment, will depend on him."
"Of course," Severus replied again, not wanting to say anything that might jeopardize his position, but mentally berating himself; he was starting to sound like an idiot, saying 'of course' over and over again.
"We've been impressed with you, Snape," Keech continued, his smile widening a little as he spoke. "You will soon be the last person here chosen by Malfoy himself; your family's connection to the Malfoys goes back generations, but you've never abused that position, at least, not that I've ever seen. Your obvious devotion to the cause have been noted for some time." Keech paused to glance at Lestrange. Severus turned to follow the look and saw the other young man nod slightly in apparent agreement. His heart pounding, Severus turned back to Keech as the older boy continued speaking. "However, your public battles with a certain group of Gryffindors has caused some doubts ... "
Severus blanched as he felt his stomach clench in anger. If that bastard Potter costs me this, I will kill him with my bare hands.
"I understand your situation. Don't misunderstand me; I hate the twit as much as you do." Severus smiled slightly at Keech's words. "Unlike you, though, I have an acceptable way to exact some sort of revenge. I understand your frustration, but - "
"This feud reflects badly on your judgement, Snape." Lestrange interrupted again. "It doesn't do to draw that kind of attention to yourself." He paused. "The reality of our situation is that, while Dumbledore is Headmaster, we must operate in secret, as you know. Anything that draws any extra attention from the staff jeopardizes all of us and our work here. Ames is already suspicious. Slytherin or not, the woman was an Auror for decades." Severus gave a small smirk as he noted the flash of repugnance as Lestrange said the word 'Auror.' The past career of their Head of House was a matter of considerable bad feeling for many Slytherins. They felt that Dumbledore had recruited her to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts and head Slytherin solely because her past career provided her with exceptional spying skills, which she used against her own House. "She knows something is going on under her nose, but can't prove anything. That is because we have been discreet. We cannot afford any extra scrutiny. Your ridiculous battles with Potter and his gang of half-wits is beneath someone in your situation and it endangers our work here."
My situation, Severus thought. What exactly is my situation? In his mind, Severus demanded clarification. Were they going to offer him the position or not?
"A true leader puts the needs of the mission above personal grudges and desires," Keech continued. Severus nodded, looking from one face to the other.
"I think you understand the situation," Lestrange said as he gave Severus a smile that made the young man's face resemble a skull in the firelight. Not entirely, Severus thought ruefully. Lestrange stood and the others immediately followed. Severus had the feeling he should shake their hands, but resisted the impulse. Lestrange escorted him to the door and, after perfunctory good-byes, Severus left.
He walked quickly to the staircase back to the common room. Halfway up, he stopped and leaned back against the cold stone wall. His mind raced, reviewing parts of the conversation as he waited for his pounding heart to return to normal. As he wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his robes, he noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. "Idiot," he muttered to himself.
Once his nervousness had subsided, Severus was overcome by a sense of elation. Lestrange was seriously considering choosing him as his successor, to follow in his and Malfoy's footsteps! Lestrange was considering passing over sixth years to choose him!
Or was he? Much had been alluded to, but nothing had been stated outright. While in Keech's room, talking to the two older boys, Severus had been so sure that that was what they were discussing. Now his certainty evaporated. His stomach lurched sharply as he thought that maybe they'd just wanted him to suggest someone. What kind of test was this?
Severus tilted his head back against the stone and groaned. He felt exhausted; the short but stressful conversation had drained him of what little energy he'd had left after a full day of lessons. As he continued up the stairs and back to his dormitory, he carefully weighed the possible meanings of the conversation.
That evening, while his dorm-mates sat in the common room doing homework, he lay on his bed replaying the conversation in his head, carefully examining and analysing looks, tones, implications, and possible concealed meanings. The only conclusion he could come to was that Lestrange and Keech were seriously considering him for the position.
Half-formed schemes flew across the surface of his mind as he imagined himself leading their group. After leaving Hogwarts, what door would be closed to him? He would be able to take his rightful place in the world, his place by right of talent, intellect and power. He would not be limited to the pitiful role that his father's place in wizarding society would consign him to. He gave a contented sigh as he imagined himself at the side of the Dark Lord's most powerful supporters, not as a dependent, not as a servant, but as an equal.
It was not until the next morning that Severus remembered Lestrange and Keech's words regarding Potter.
- -
During the following week, Rosier approached Severus a number of times regarding revenge plotting. Each time, Severus brushed him off, using a variety of excuses. After the fifth rebuff, Rosier gave him a very strange look, as they left their Ancient Runes lesson. But Lestrange and Keech's words were at the back of Severus' mind at all times, and they worried him.
In truth, Severus was terribly conflicted. His two greatest desires were now in direct opposition. He felt he might finally be able to get revenge against Potter after four years of torment. However, Lestrange had implied that this could very well cost him the opportunity to succeed the seventh year as the leader of the Dark Order group that Malfoy had founded at Hogwarts five years before.
Severus had no illusions about his opportunities after Hogwarts if his situation didn't change before then: decades of underappreciated, efficient obscurity, just like his father. Like his father, and other Snapes before him, Severus would be expected to be grateful for the "honour" of clinging to the cloak-hem of a Malfoy for the rest of his life. Gaining the prize of succeeding Lestrange could break this pattern of dependence. He desperately wanted something other than to follow in the footsteps of generations of Snapes before him. He wanted a future where he was a leader, not just some potions-making flunky, one of the many functionaries working in the shadow and under the thumb of a Malfoy.
Lestrange had tantalized him with the possibility of that other future, and Severus had no intention of jeopardizing it. But about Potter .... Rosier had been right. That situation had to be resolved, for once and for all. His pride and justice itself demanded some sort of revenge for years of stupid pranks and unprovoked attacks. And it wasn't as though they were ever punished, he thought to himself as he sat in History of Magic the following Monday afternoon, idly playing Hangman with Burke at the back of the classroom. He smirked as Burke drew round glasses on the stick figure drawn in the corner of his otherwise empty parchment. McGonagall's inaction regarding Potter and Black had always been strange. She was so strict with everyone else. And Dumbledore was worse; the old man couldn't have been more indulgent if Potter had been his own son.
This, as much as anything else, enraged Severus. The unfairness of it had eaten away at him for years. All he wanted was justice. And if the staff weren't going to punish the errant Gryffindors, he was morally obligated to show them the error of their ways, wasn't he?
That evening, Severus was hidden away in the back of the library, working on a Defence assignment, when Rosier finally cornered him. To Severus' annoyance, Avery was with him.
"There you are," Rosier said as he dropped his satchel on top of a pile of books. Severus looked up at his two classmates with a scowl on his face.
"You've been avoiding us, Snape," Avery continued as he sat in the only other chair.
"Why are you here, Avery?" Severus asked angrily.
"Rosier told me about the plan. It's brilliant ... "
"There is no plan, Avery," he interrupted, casting an angry glare up at Rosier, who looked smug.
"And who's to blame for that?" Rosier replied as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"I'm busy, Rosier," Severus growled as he turned his attention back to his parchment.
"What's the matter with you? A week ago you were all for this. Now you're backing out," Rosier said, perplexed.
"I've changed ... I'm busy. I don't have time for this right now." Severus felt his face flush at the obvious lie. "And I cannot believe you told him," he continued, gesturing irritably at Avery with his quill.
"Hey! I want to see those two get some of their own medicine, too."
"Really," Severus drawled in response to his classmate's huffy tones. "And how many times have you been attacked in the corridors, Avery?"
"We all want to see them get their comeuppance, Snape. What made you change your mind?" Rosier asked.
Severus looked up and saw a hard look on Rosier's face. He knew his friend suspected that his stalling was related to his meeting with Lestrange. "I haven't changed my mind. I just ..."
"Well, then. Let's get planning," Avery interrupted a little too loudly. A moment later, Madam Pince poked her head around a nearby stack and shushed them, a scowl on her face.
"Let's go back to the common room," Rosier suggested as he picked up his satchel.
Severus sighed and closed his book. "No. I don't want anyone else knowing about this."
"You've got to be joking. You know everyone'll want to help," Avery replied, barely able to keep his voice down.
Severus silently glanced between Rosier and Avery a few times before replying, keeping his voice low. "No one else can know about this."
"Burke'll want to - " Avery protested.
Severus shot him a quelling glare. "Not even Burke. No one. Have you said anything to him?" he asked Avery.
"No, not a word. I just found out today. Rosier didn't want to tell me."
"But he did." Thank you, Rosier, you prat. Tell the second worst gossip in Slytherin, why don't you. Rosier had the good sense to look somewhat chastised. With a heavy sigh, Severus leaned back in the hard library chair and crossed his arms. He feigned an interest in the moldy history books on a nearby shelf as he pondered the merits of various ways out of his current situation. The idea of revenge was so tempting. And if there was a way that no one would suspect them, not even other Slytherins, well then ....
Rosier put his satchel on the floor and left, returning a few moments later with another chair. He sat and quietly waited with Avery for Severus to speak again.
Severus looked from Rosier's smirk to Avery's anxious excitement and, knowing he would probably regret his decision later, spoke. "First of all, no one can know about this." He heard Avery deflate slightly in relief.
"What do - " Avery sputtered, then stopped as Rosier raised his left hand to silence him.
"Whatever we do cannot, under any circumstances, be traced back to us by anyone," Severus continued.
"Why not? You'd be a hero, finally getting back - " Avery countered, perplexed.
"Because we don't want to be expelled, you idiot," Rosier snapped. Avery's face fell. Severus noticed the calculating gleam in Rosier's eyes; he knew his friend's mind was whirling through the possible reasons for the secrecy, even within their own house.
"None of the Slytherins would tell," Avery replied, sulking.
"We don't know that, Avery. Do you trust Horrell not to go to Ames or Dumbledore?" Severus asked acerbically. "If any staff find out, it goes straight to Dumbledore and we're all out on our ear. You may not need qualifications, but I do, and I have no desire to spend three years at Durmstrang." A look of petulant anger crossed Avery's face, which irritated Severus even more. Spoiled brat. For a moment, he contemplated the perils of including Avery in any enterprise requiring discretion.
"Okay, fine." Rosier clapped his hands once and rubbed them together for a few seconds, apparently happy that they were finally making a start.
You'd think this was about his revenge, Severus thought to himself ruefully as he watched a gleeful grin take over his friend's expression. However, the sight of it leavened his heavy doubts for a moment.
"It's agreed then. Absolute secrecy is our first priority," Rosier continued, ignoring the scowl Severus knew was on his face. He picked at a hangnail idly, waiting for Rosier to try to take over the proceedings. "Well, the way I see it, we really only have three choices: hexes, potions, or some kind of accident, perhaps during a lesson."
"Potions are out of the question," Severus replied sharply as he thought to himself, Why in Merlin's name has Rosier put so much thought into this?
"Why? You're brilliant at potions, Snape. I bet you'd come up with something even Brax couldn't trace."
The gushing made Severus feel slightly nauseated, but he couldn't help feeling gratified by the praise, even coming from a complete dunderhead like Avery. He smirked at both of them before answering sarcastically. "Use your head, Avery. Imagine the scene: Potter is sick, obviously by some fiendishly-contrived potion. It can't be the work of a staff member, can it? Of course not! They all love the bastard, don't they? It must be a student. Now, who are the few students able to brew such a thing? And of them, which is Potter's enemy of long standing?" He cocked an eyebrow.
Avery sighed dejectedly. "I see what you mean."
"That leaves us with some kind of hex, probably; an accident is too hard to set up, especially in a classroom. The teachers are too security-conscious," Rosier said as he leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head, causing the sleeves of his robes to billow out from his bent elbows like black wings. The boys were silent, each mulling over various hexes and jinxes. "The problem is secrecy, of course," Rosier continued. "I mean, we want it to be public, for the embarrassment value, but we have to be able to do it so no one sees it's us."
"We'll still be suspected," Severus replied dryly. "Ideally we would not actually be present. That would give us a stronger alibi. A time-delayed or event-triggered hex or jinx, perhaps."
"Hmm. That's really advanced Charms work, you know. Event triggered hexes and that sort of thing," Avery said.
"I know, I know," Rosier replied, then pursed his lips in an expression of extreme concentration. Severus thought it made him look like an acne-plagued, constipated vole. Rosier glanced back at him, his expression shifting to become blank. Severus could tell his friend was angry about something. "It really is a pity you don't want anyone else to know about this. Lestrange or Bellatrix Black would know how to do this. They'd teach us how if they knew what it was for."
Severus put all his resolve into keeping his expression as neutral as possible. Quit fishing, Rosier, he thought angrily. His friend's curiosity about his meeting with Lestrange had been getting on his nerves all week. He knew the mention of the seventh-year was a deliberate attempt to get a reaction; Lestrange was no better at Charms than anyone else. He gave Rosier a tight, humourless smile. "I think the fewer people involved, the better. Imagine Potter's glee at clearing out half of Slytherin House if we were found out. We certainly wouldn't make any friends getting others expelled." Ha, so there, Rosier. Severus knew that playing on Rosier's greatest weakness, his desire to ingratiate himself with the more prominent Slytherins, would get his friend to finally shut up about the whole Lestrange situation.
"Who says we'll get caught?" Avery asked. Severus turned to him, barely able to restrain his impatience with the boy's inability to think even one step ahead without someone giving him a map.
"Because what we're planning will require considerable skill, likely the application of dark magic of some kind, flawless execution and, unfortunately, quite a bit of luck." He paused. "There is another problem. Potter is never alone. Black is always by his side and will notice anything suspicious. If anything happens to Potter, I will automatically be suspected and Dumbledore will not bother with niceties like evidence when pursuing anyone who dares to disturb his precious Perfect Potter." Severus spat out the last words. "The prank itself is secondary to the execution. We must not be caught." He saw Rosier give him a thoughtful look before replying.
"When were you thinking of doing this?"
"We discussed before something to keep him out of the Slytherin-Gryffindor match," Severus replied, dropping his voice to just above a whisper. He was happy to see the familiar devilish twinkle return to Rosier's eyes at the mention of their previous conversation.
"November, then," Avery whispered.
"Halloween at the latest," Rosier countered thoughtfully. "To have the plan at least. We'll probably need some time to actually execute it."
"Or Potter." Avery grinned, looking from Rosier's impassive face to Severus' scowl. His grin evaporated.
"Really, Avery. Do you intend on spending the rest of your life in Azkaban? I certainly do not, so rule number two is no permanent damage of any kind." Severus paused and glanced back to Rosier. "Incapacity, excruciating pain, and socially debilitating public humiliation are all desirable, of course," he smirked, "but not absolutely essential." Rosier chuckled and Avery guffawed loudly, earning another shushing from Madam Pince.
"So, what now?" Rosier asked as he glared at the back of the departing librarian.
"Research," Severus replied and stifled Avery's groan with a fierce glare. "I think our best bet is some kind of event triggered or time-delayed hex or jinx." The other boys nodded in agreement. "We know quite a few hexes. It's a matter of knowing how to make them active after they're cast. So, that's what we focus on."
"Do you have something specific in mind?" Rosier asked.
"I have two or three suitable candidates."
"You do realise that what we'll need is going to be in the Restricted Section?" Rosier stated dryly.
"I know. We'll need ..." Severus' voice drifted off as his attention was drawn by an idea that popped into his mind. "Just ... I have an idea. I'll tell Brax I want to do some advanced research for OWLs. He won't suspect anything."
"Good thinking," Rosier replied with a smirk that Severus soon matched. Rosier glanced at his watch. "Almost nine o'clock. Time to get back." He stood and picked up his satchel.
"Not a word to anyone," Severus said in warning tones to Avery. "Not anyone - no hints, no thinly veiled allusions, no knowing nudges in the Great Hall, nothing."
"Okay, okay," Avery replied. Severus didn't care that Avery was insulted by the implication that it would be him that let slip their secret. He was still very angry with Rosier for telling Avery, of all people.
As the three boys made their way to the Slytherin common room, Severus discovered that he felt better than he had in days. The tightness constricting his chest for the past week had loosened a little. The more he thought about their plan, the more confident he became that, with some luck, they might just pull it off. He might just get both his dreams to come true.