Author's Notes: This story is a little diddy that's been floating through my mind for a while. I'm writing this for my enjoyment and for the enjoyment of others. I have no aspirations to become a professional writer and view scathing, sarcastic commentary as a sign of mental illness. (In other words, criticism is welcome if it is constructive. If you don't know how to do this, then learn the art as it is perhaps the most lucrative job and social skill one can hone.)
I hope you enjoy.
Thank you all for the wonderful comments—I do appreciate them. I can't comment on some of the inquiries, as an answer one way or another would give away the plot. For those who think the story is going in circles, do pay special attention to what details (and omissions) are given to whom. It's apparent that Severus has his own little agenda and everyone has their little part to play in it.
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Chapter 6 – Introducing the HeirHarry Potter stretched out in the tiny twin sized bed, feeling his toes hit the hard wooden footboard. He arched his back and stretched, wringing the last of the sleep out of his body. Lazily opening one eye he noticed a few bright rays of sunlight that escaped through the old, moth-eaten curtain. Judging from the angle and intensity, he estimated that it was late morning. Springing up from bed, he quickly put on his glasses and plunged his feet into his slippers. He turned towards the other small twin bed nearby, half expecting his best friend, Ron Weasley, to still be asleep. However, the bed was empty and the sheets and light blanket were smoothed into place, although a few large wrinkles showed that the half-earnest job must have been performed in a hurry.
Fetching his dressing robe, Harry then headed to his trunk, pulling out some toiletries for a quick shower. As he went into the hall, he could hear loud voices rumbling up the large mahogany stairs from the enormous entryway below. The Black Mansion, he was once told, was a magnificent estate of breathtaking beauty. But time, disinterest, and the death and / or incarceration of its masters left the once regal property in disarray. Last summer they worked hard in cleaning the enormous house, yet the work simply lifted the dust and grime; significant effort lay ahead if anyone wished to fully restore it.
Harry had arrived two days ago, early Saturday afternoon, after a thwarted kidnapping. It was a bittersweet arrival. He was certainly happy to see his friends and familiar faces of the various members of the Order, but the house gave him too many memories—too many memories about Sirius and how his own quick-thinking stupidity had led his beloved godfather to his death.
The voices made Harry curious, but the events of two days ago gave him a renewed sense of caution. He approached the landing and kneeled, pressing his head against the dull wood of the railing for a better vantage point. He could see Professor Dumbledore and Molly Weasley below.
"But what are we to do?" Molly Weasley began, her voice unusually high pitched and tinged with anxiety. "The location is unplottable... we could..."
"Molly," Dumbledore's low voice consoled. "The new owner is entitled to the property and we would be committing theft by withholding it."
"But Andromeda said this morning that she wasn't the owner. You know what that means Albus..." Molly replied. "We were counting on her letting us keep the Order here... the timing is so poor, that I must wonder..."
"This does imply that Narcissa Malfoy won her contested lawsuit," Dumbledore said tiredly. "Although I feel Andromeda, being the elder, deserves the estate and family fortune more, Narcissa is still more entitled to this property than we."
"But Remus... Mundungus..." Molly wrung her hands. "This is the only shelter... and often the only source of a square meal..."
"Sirius Black had another property, one inherited from an uncle, I believe," Albus said. "Sirius' will is quite clear that Harry is the heir to his personal property. I am sure that Harry would allow Remus and anyone else in need of shelter..."
"What do you mean we have to leave?" Harry asked, standing up and quickly thumping down the stairs. "I thought that Sirius' will..."
"Sirius' personal will is being honored, Harry," Albus said. "You will get..."
"I don't care about what I will 'get'!" Harry spat. "I AM AS DESERVING TO INHERIT AS BELLATRIX LESTRANGE!" Calming himself a bit with a few deep breaths, Harry added, "I would trade it all in a second..." Harry's voice trailed off, his eyes overflowing with tears. Raising his arm, he pointed to the corner, "Over there, we decorated the tree and opened presents." Up there, Harry turned on the staircase, pointing to the row of beheaded House Elves, "Sirius gave them all Santa Hats and he was singing Christmas carols..." Harry collapsed onto the stair he was standing on and put his head in his hands, his voice muffled from his sobbing and his hands, he wailed, "What heartless bastard is doing this..."
"I sincerely do not know who the new owner is, although I have some suspicions," Dumbledore said kindly. "I stopped by the Ministry this morning. Percy gave me the papers, as he knew that I was acting as a temporary custodian on Sirius' behalf. He understood that the new owner wished to have an agent of his inspect the property to assess it in order to begin cleaning and repairs. I am to meet this person, this agent, and escort them here. The owner is apparently taking care of some business with Gringotts and is expected be in around lunch. Percy said we had until this evening, but even he did not know who is the new owner; the case was considered to be confidential." Dumbledore took out his multi-handed, ornate pocket watch. "Speaking of which, I must meet the person now."
"Are you mad!" Molly began and then quickly bit her lip. "If Narcissa Malfoy inherited the property, then this agent could be You-Know-Who himself for all we know! Besides," she scratched her head. "How is the owner supposed to show up on his or her own if the property is under a Fidelius charm? Wouldn't you have to fetch them as well, bring them here, and then break the charm once we left?"
Dumbledore paused for a second, slowly lowering his watch back into a roomy pocket on the left side of his robe. "That is a very good question, Molly." The old wizard scratched his beard and headed to the door. Just as he was about to leave, he turned and said, "That would imply, therefore, the owner has been here before—in my confidence." Seeing Molly and Harry nod yes, but both looking quite perplexed, the old wizard responded. "I certainly did not expect him to do this; but I suppose he has his reasons. Oh, Molly, should Minerva stop by do tell her what is going on and that we are all to meet at Hogwarts this evening. Contact the other members of the Order as soon as you can please."
"WHO has his reasons!?" Harry demanded, but it was too late, Dumbledore had disappeared through the door.
~***~
Harry's trunk and Ron's suitcase were already parked at the door. Hermione and Ginny lugged their suitcases and trunks, one by one, down the stairs and set them with the others by the door. "Pity we cannot use even simple charms," Ginny said with a sigh. "There are many that are quite useful, yet harmless…"
Hermione nodded in agreement. Quickly opening her trunk, she fished out a large brown leather bound book and proceeded to a nearby armchair. Pulling over the ottoman, she put up her feet and made herself comfortable. In less than an hour Remus would escort her to a rendezvous point where she would meet her parents and spend the remainder of the summer with them.
"Studying?" Ginny asked, taking a seat across the room. She, Ron and their mother would be leaving as soon as Molly finished packing a few personal items the Order used in the kitchen.
"Light reading," Hermione said, holding up a book called, 'Transfiguration: Esoteric and Rare Charms'
"Planning on taking a nap too?" Ron called from the stairs. He leaned over the creaky railing and looked straight down on Hermione who look annoyed.
"I would watch the railing," Hermione said. "I do not think that it will hold your weight…" Turning back to Ginny she said, "It is rather interesting. There's a whole chapter on Animagi, including various spells to detect and force one into form." She turned to a book marked section and began to read. "Inculco Animagus is a powerful spell that can force a wizard or witch into the Animagus form. Once under the spell, the wizard or witch cannot resume human form on their own, but must rely on another to recognize the spell and to perform the counter-spell, Redux Homo." Hermione set the open book on her lap. "I knew that there were spells to force an Animagus from their form, but never knew there was one to force them into form." She idly petted Crookshanks who was sitting on the chair's arm. The cat kept on nipping Hermione's fingers and batting at the page she just read. "Loony cat," Hermoine said, shooing the animal away.
"The reason," Professor McGonagall's voice carried through the marble-lined foyer, "Is that we Animagus would prefer less than a wide-spread use of the charm. Charm is a favorable word actually -- 'Curse' is more appropriate since it forces something on someone that they do not wish." The witch looked at title to the book, which Hermione held up for her to read. "Excellent choice," she said with appreciation, "your own personal copy?"
"I found it upstairs," Hermione said. "I was wondering if I could borrow it for a while…"
"I'm sure that Narcissa Malfoy would just love you perusing through the Black private library," Ron said cynically. "Why don't you ask Professor Snape if you could borrow a few of his potions books while you're at it?"
"I just might," Hermione said coolly. "At least he'd know that I would understand them."
"Twelve Owls, eleven Outstanding, and you act like you're Nicholas Flamel," Ron snorted teasingly.
"Now don't be jealous, Ron," Ginny began to giggle. "Because of your accomplishments, the Ministry of Education came up with a new grade, an 'R', for Ronald. Not quite a Troll, but worse than 'Dreadful.'"
The teens began to banter in good-natured camaraderie, making up new grades depending on the person. As they came up with ideas for 'M', which McGonagall insisted to stand for 'Magnificent', they noticed that someone had arrived. They all hushed as the knob turned and the door opened and Dumbledore stepped inside.
"Molly Weasley and a few others did a marvelous job of cleaning up, but as you can see, a bit of restorative effort is needed. Stripping, restoring the wood, re-staining… a few of the curtains may be salvageable." Dumbledore noted as kept the door opened and a woman walked in. Hermione, Ginny and Ron never saw the woman before; although McGonagall seemed to somewhat recognize her.
"It's that witch," a voice came from top of the stairs. "The Lestrange…"
"Hello young Mr. Potter," Ruedella Lestrange looked up. "I trust you are packed?" Seeing the various suitcases she nodded and proceeded further into the room. When the door closed, she took out her wand. "Stand by the fireplace," she commanded to what appeared to be Hermione's suitcase. Harry stared at the spot but then noticed a small distortion in the air. Something was moving-- no make that many somethings were moving-- under a cloaking spell. With a flick of her wand, the witch revealed six House Elves, all dressed in dusty grey and green trimmed tea towels. They had carried and levitated an enormous amount of supplies—brooms, brushes, oils, soaps, paint and the like. The little creatures looked around nervously for a second, but somehow Harry got the impression that they were glad to be here.
"Work poorly and you shall return to Lestrange Manor immediately for replacement. I would be most disappointed should I waste such time! Assess the manor first; take careful notes of what should be replaced verses what can be repaired. Once that is done, report back to me."
"When shall the new owner arrive?" Dumbledore asked casually. "I had heard early afternoon, but wanted to be sure."
"He had a few matters to attend to and should be here around lunch," Ruedella said simply. Inspecting the foyer, she turned to Dumbledore, "The manor used to be spectacular twenty years ago. It will take several weeks of work and an army of elves and craftsmen…"
"I assume you will be staying here then?" Dumbledore asked.
"Don't tell me SHE's the heir?" Harry yelled, rushing down the stairs.
"I believe I said that the new owner would arrive around lunch, assuming his errands take that long," Ruedella said coldly. "Severus was correct, you are rather rude and dim-witted. Pity, your parents were quite intelligent, if I recall." Addressing Dumbledore again, she asked, "There was a House Elf at one time. Shall I assume from the state the manor is in that it is dead?"
"Kreacher is not dead," a hoarse voice croaked. "Kreacher recognizes witch as friend of Regulus Black. You are…" the elf paused and looked a the witch. "You are the Mistress?" The creature began to dance, its ancient legs wobbling as it spun in a circle. "These traitors are leaving and the Mistress has arrived! Kreacher shall fetch Mistress some tea… does Mistress like sugar or milk…?" The elf paused for a second, looking rather confused for it had been ages since it fetched tea and for a moment had forgotten how to do it. "Mistress need not worry, Kreacher will fetch the tea…" and the little elf disappeared with a sharp crack.
"Mistress?" McGonagall said under her breath.
"The Elf is old and confused," Ruedella said. "If it continues, I will simply mount him on the wall…"
"Who is the owner?" McGonagall asked plainly, "Or are we supposed to wait for the grand arrival?"
"I was never one to be flashy," a low baritone said silkily. Severus Snape quickly closed the door and walked over to Ruedella. "I finished much more quickly than anticipated. Had I know, I would have met you myself." Looking around, he added, "I told you it was quite a mess, but I assume that you can handle it?"
"I will need more Elves," Ruedella said. "I cannot spare any more, but there are always rentals if we need. The one elf that comes with the manor is rather old and appears to be senile. If I don't see an improvement by tomorrow, we can dispose of him-- if I can find a suitable plaque…"
"You are not going to cut off Kreacher's head are you?" Hermione gasped, slamming the large book closed with a thump.
"Go ahead," Harry said, almost gleefully. "I'll even hold down the little bastard for you!"
"I am so glad that you approve, Mr. Potter," Severus said dryly.
"Could you indulge me, Severus?" Dumbledore said. He pointed to a gold ring sitting on Severus' hand, "I see that …"
"Yes," Severus said simply, finishing Dumbledore's attempted observation. "Sirius Black never bothered to tell you?" Severus sniffed, "No I don't suppose he would have, would he?"
"Sirius didn't tell you what?" Harry demanded, still not quite getting what was transpiring. Ruedella simply rolled her eyes and walked across the room to study a cabinet.
"That Severus Snape is his brother," Dumbledore said. "No, Severus, Sirius never did mention it."
"I prefer the term half-brother," Severus said, "as it removes me more from Sirius."
Dumbledore nodded wordlessly for a few seconds and then cleared his throat. "Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, please go upstairs and wait in one of the bedrooms. Minerva, could you be so kind as to show Miss Lestrange around so that she can proceed with her inspection?" The children, except for Harry, began to proceed up the stairs. Harry just stood there, his fists clenched and his jaw locked. "Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice still kind, but with an edge of authority, "please go upstairs. I promise that I will make time for you later this afternoon to ask questions. In the meanwhile, I would like a word with the new Master Black."
"I am keeping the Snape name," Severus said quickly, "although I have assumed the responsibility of keeping the traditions and history of the Black name alive…"
"That is most interesting, Severus, as I never realized you had a latent interest in genealogy," Dumbledore said as he headed to the large door that separated the foyer from other rooms which eventually led into the kitchen. "Perhaps we can snitch some scones and tea that Kreacher is happily preparing for his new Mistress?" Dumbledore looked at Severus and smiled, "Silly creature, isn't he, calling her Mistress?"
"Indeed," Severus replied, looking over to Ruedella who had disengaged herself from the overall conversation and was heading into the formal dining room, with Minerva McGonagall following close behind.
~***~
"I do not suppose you are inclined to tell me what is going on?" Minerva McGonagall asked her former student. Ruedella had always been a quiet girl, studious and reserved -- which for a Slytherin simply meant that she was clever enough not to get caught.
"Regarding Severus or with me?" Ruedella asked while busily scratching notes on a clipboard.
"Let us start with Severus and then proceed to you," Minerva said. "I never did get all the details as to what exactly happened on Saturday, although I do know that Albus feels that there was some sort of misunderstanding."
"Severus is here because he is the son of Nefarius Black and Deaville Snape," Ruedella said. Looking at Minerva, she added, "Illegitimate, obviously, but nonetheless a blood Black. I must say though, the look on Narcissa Malfoy's face was worth all the gold in Gringotts'. Poor dear, she fell face first into her Sunday dinner. Draco thought for a second he was an orphan…" Ruedella's lopsided smile betrayed that she enjoyed watching the other witch's reaction a bit too much.
"Severus is a fine wizard and colleague, despite his rather unsettling temperament. However, I am concerned that her reaction-- given Severus' mother's family's reputation-- would be a sticking point, plus the fact that he did not actually bear the Black name. Narcissa's wrath, and that of your sister-in-law, will be great," the elder witch warned.
"They were surprised, but there were a few mitigating factors that made them to be more agreeable to the situation. Bellatrix is quite supportive although Narcissa is not overly warm to the matter she does think more about appearances. Given Lucius' current reputation, her list of allies is growing quite thin. As such she is more motivated to see the value and considering that Severus has made a suitable name for himself—Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House at such a young age, an achievement rivaling that of even Phineas Nigellus—she sees that perhaps the name of Snape my be turning back for the better. It was, at one time, more revered than the Malfoys."
"During the seventeenth century, yes," Minerva agreed. "I do not suppose that cutting out Andromeda was a positive factor as well?"
"That was no small favor," Ruedella said. "Sirius, I understand, threw out many Black treasures. Many were Dark Arts objects of rather questionable value, but did have some historical significance. Others were simple family heirlooms, metals, honors, tapestries, portraits, books… even a set of ancient goblin silverware. Severus rescued these items, or at least as many as he could. That proved to Narcissa and Bellatrix that Severus was a true Black…"
"Don't ever let Severus hear you say that," Minerva said, biting her lip. "May I ask why you have been in contact with Bellatrix, a known fugitive? Were you not hiding from your brothers and presumably her as well?"
"Severus was able to convince them that I was after the Potter boy and failed," she paused. "For now they are satisfied with the answer given that the Headmaster helped to lay some of that misinformation himself. We used that acceptance to borrow a number of House Elves for this project. However, aside from retrieving the elves, Severus does not wish for me to spend much time around them. For appearances and just in case they start asking me too many questions. Severus put his reputation on the line for me, I understand the risk he is taking and it would be foolish for me to ignore prudent measures."
"So for his assistance, you're playing housekeeper?" Minerva asked, her tone not entirely rhetorical.
"He felt the house required a woman's touch. I believe, however, that it requires several barrels of an incendiary agent and a torch." Ruedella paced the room, her eyes riveted on the huge chandelier. "Even with magic, this will take an entire day to clean to perfection, let alone assess which elements we must replace."
"Severus must have a considerable amount of leverage over you given that he is trusting you here and now," Minerva stated, following the younger witch around the room. "This duality makes me nervous."
"At least you are not living it," Ruedella said stiffly. "Severus does what he must," she eyed a House Elf who wandered into the room. She motioned her head towards the elf, hoping Minerva would understand to choose her words carefully. "The arrangements between he and I are not your concern. If you will excuse me, I have work to do. If you have not finished packing, may I suggest you take the opportunity?"
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