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.
Elizabeth: I don't know what to say other than this was intended to be primarily a Snape-related story. I will have lots of Harry in it (he's the second character), but the storyline really centers more on Snape than Harry and his gang. Sorry and hate to see you go, but the story is what the story is…
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Chapter 7 – The Best Laid Plan...
"GET OUT!" Kreacher commanded Dumbledore and Snape as they entered the kitchen. "Kreacher is preparing morning tea for Mistress... GET OUT!" The elf hopped on the large table and began rummaging through the box Molly Weasley had just used for packing, searching, presumably, for something suitable to throw.
He had grabbed a large black spatula and held it over his head when Snape roared, "IF YOU DARE THROW ANYTHING AT YOUR MASTER, I SHALL CLOTHES YOU SO FAST THAT YOU WILL BE GRATEFUL TO WORK FOR KNUTS AND HAND-OUTS!"
"Really, Severus," Dumbledore looked at his friend, disappointed, "was that necessary?"
"Master?" Kreacher said with disbelief. He was about to lob a caustic comment when he saw Snape holding up his hand, bearing the Black signet ring on his finger. "MASTER!!" the elf bellowed, realizing what he had just done and pulling his ears fiercely. Kreacher then threw himself off the table and began to ram his head forcibly, over and over, into the cupboards, its thrusts so violent and powerful that the cupboard doors flew open and the dinnerware rattled, a few cups and saucers falling and shattering to the floor below.
Snape took a few quick steps, and grabbed the elf by its filthy rags, picking the creature off of up the ground and bringing it up to his own eye level. "Fetch Miss Lestrange her tea now and leave this room immediately! I shall deal with you later!" He set the elf down, who immediately scooped up the tray and disappeared with a sharp crack.
"Oh, he made extra scones and there's plenty of left-over hot water!" Dumbledore exclaimed with delight, doing his best to ignore his ill-tempered friend's behavior. "Raspberry... my favorite!" The Headmaster fetched two plates and some butter from the icebox and proceeded to sit down at the table. "Sit, Severus," he said, patting the chair beside him. "If you don't mind taking orders in your own home?"
Severus sat, but passed on the tea and scone. The Potions Master watched for a few minutes as the Headmaster idly hummed as he busied himself with buttering the scone and attending to his tea. Finally, the humming—and apparent nonchalant ness of the elder wizard—unnerved Severus to such a degree that he snapped, "I suppose you wish to know the details?"
"Approximately thirty-nine years ago Nefarius Black had an affair with your mother," Dumbledore began, as he set down the butter knife apparently satisfied that the layer of butter was of a perfect, even thickness across the bottom of the confectionary. "Learning later that she was pregnant and refusing to terminate, he made several attempts on her life, the last of which involved hiring a vampire when she was approximately seven to eight months pregnant. Unfortunately, despite her being an astute practitioner of the Dark Arts—or Defense Against, if one is to be overly specific—she was barely able to escape with her own life and was severely bitten. Had it not been for a client happening by at the particular time, I am afraid that she—and you by proxy-- would have been desanguined.
"After this client dispatched the vampire and took your mother to St. Mungo's, the client cornered Black to ensure that he would provide suitable financial assistance to support your upbringing and visit from time to time. Unfortunately when you were seven, Dalmond Avery thought it amusing to attempt to blackmail Nefarius and in Avery's bungling, alerted Mrs. Black."
"Bungling?" Severus spat, "the ill-bred mouth breather nearly yelled it out in the middle of Diagon Alley! My mother and I were shopping, passing Mrs. Black and her two brats when Avery thought it would be fun to watch!" Severus seethed.
"You extracted your revenge on Avery senior, I understand. During the days when you were less enlightened than you are now," Dumbledore said with a hint of ice in his tone.
"My father stopped visiting immediately after that," Severus said, diverting the topic. "Not a huge loss as I found his visits more of a terrifying chore..."
"I felt that a boy needed his father and the wizard was obliged to support you," Dumbledore said with sad resignation, "Had I known he would terrorize you and your mother, I would have put a stop to it. However, despite that he discontinued his visits, I did make sure he deposited a certain amount of Galleons in your mother's account each month. When you were old enough, your Hogwart's tuition notice was sent to him directly and various appropriate expense accounts were set up to take care of your supplies. Your mother was a frugal woman and settled for second-hand clothes and books...I suppose that she feared his wrath. She was quite unaware that behind the scenes, I was making sure Nefarius was living up to his obligations. Thuban Malfoy, who was quite put out that Nefarius nearly killed his sole supply of DeathKnell Flowers, was a rather unexpected ally of mine to make sure that Nefarius did not make another attempt on your lives." Dumbledore offered a wary smile, "I am not overly fond of Thuban, but sometimes a common goal makes for awkward alliances. Let's say that he employed certain methods, which I would not venture to use myself of course, that Nefarius found most motivating. I do not believe, however, that Thuban knew that Nefarius was your father—simply that Nefarius was keen on seeing your mother dead."
"You knew! All these years!" Severus uncharacteristically displayed his astonishment. Making a revelation, he inquired, "You were the 'client' that saved her! May I ask what you were doing? I am curious as to your business dealings with her as her clientele sought very specific...shall we say…exotic...plants." At the last Severus raised an inquiring eyebrow and leveled a smirk.
"Cantophy Vine," Dumbledore said. "Nearly impossible to grow but the best remedy there is for rheumatism. Dry the leaves and use as a tea infusion. Pity that Professor Sprout has uneven luck in growing them."
"Why did you not offer my mother a job?" Severus asked. "I believe Professor Sprout was hired about thirty or so years ago."
"Thirty-three," Dumbledore corrected. "You mother turned down the job. Unfortunately, she could make far more money in her current line of work, despite the fact that I urged her otherwise. She was quite focused on paying down the inherited debts and I must say that she was quite close in doing so..."
"She had by the time she was killed," Severus said softly.
"And had Voldemort not taken her life because she failed to properly grown a very rare, and nearly impossible to cultivate, translucent Devil's Snare for another one of his immortality experiments, she might have been able to move to a safer line of work," Dumbledore added. "And it was that act by Voldemort that eventually brought you to me."
"It was that act by him, not to mention many other, that made me realize that he was a complete fraud... a lunatic," Severus said, folding his arms.
"So here we are," Dumbledore said, with a resigned sigh. "Nefarius Black's legitimate sons are dead and his bastard second born son who he tried to kill-- and when he could not, make his life a living hell— has inherited his name and estate. The last of Blacks are dead, but the bloodline lives on. So, tell me, Severus, what are your intentions? Sell this all so you can repurchase more of the former Snape lands back?"
"I intend to keep this mansion and restore it," Severus said simply. "There are other commercial properties that come with the estate—modest but money making—that will provide various income streams. Some reinvestment may be necessary to grow them, but the income is more than sufficient now to maintain the property and invest in its upgrades. The rest of the fortune I will invest in either the commercial properties or other investments of varying liquidity. Over time, this will be used to repurchase what I can."
"Considerable plan that would require a substantial amount of money," Dumbledore said in between bites of the scone. Gently turning the teacup in the saucer, he asked innocently, "How many years will this take you, assuming if everything goes to plan?"
"Sixty to seventy years," Severus said. "That is assuming I keep the base of the fortune intact, adding to in over the years to keep with normal inflation, and, of course, taking into account the lifestyle and other social obligations. For example, I discovered this morning that I am now, apparently, Cornelius Fudge's new best friend," Severus said the last with an unmistakable tint of disgust in his voice. "The plan may come to fruition sooner, of course, if there is an unexpected windfall."
"Such as an Order of Merlin First Degree, or marriage to one of the more established wizarding households?" Dumbledore inquired. "This type of plan is generational, and as such does require a partner. What type of dowry does Ruedella fetch?"
Severus raised an eyebrow. Seeing Dumbledore match him with an equally raised bushy white one over a twinkling blue eye, he simply exhaled in defeat. "A mated pair of young House Elves; a small vineyard and winery in France—a former Malfoy property actually that passed into the Lestranges through her mother; a mated pair of Eagle Owls; 25,000 Galleons; and various household items not including what she currently owns of her own outright," Severus said ticking off the items as if they were fresh on his mind. "Thuban Malfoy may offer additional since I am a bloodline Black."
"And is Ruedella aware of this, or are you simply going to show her the contract as you drag her, under a body-bind hex, to the Ministry?" Dumbledore asked. "She's is a very bright witch, but if I recall, she sometimes fails to understand some of the more subtle areas..."
"Although she as naïve as one can be with Lestrange and Malfoy blood in ones veins, I am quite certain that she is aware something is going on," Severus said, looking at the kitchen door.
"So, in you empire building you will take a witch as well for her money?" Dumbledore said, clucking his tongue against his cheek disapprovingly. "Personally, I think the poor girl deserves better of you. She did, at one time, care for you a great deal. You owe her more than you know..."
"She was a silly bushy haired little girl with overgrown teeth and a know-it-all attitude who took to following me around because I was one of her brother's friends," Severus said, waving his hand in dismissal of Dumbledore's comments. "There was one minor incident when we were younger, after we both were out of Hogwarts, but that was influenced by Fire Whiskey..."
"And how do you feel about her?" Dumbledore inquired. "Or is she simply a means to an end? You will be bound to her for the rest of your natural life. Do tell me Severus, I hope that your scheming and over elaborate plan is simply a guise to bury any true emotional attachment. A marriage of convenience oftentimes becomes quite the opposite."
"She does not overly annoy me," Severus replied. "She and I do share some interests and she is a capable witch. However, regardless of your wish to overlay romance, this arrangement does suit both our needs."
"Severus, you can barely stand sitting at the faculty dining table," Dumbledore said, "now you are insistent that you can have some level of intimacy with someone you have not seen in eighteen years? I believe you are convincing yourself of this simply because it accelerates or enhances some grand plan you have been plotting for years
"Why do I think, Severus, that you have some master document detailing an overly elaborate task list and timeline?" Dumbledore inquired. "The pureblood wizards hold two traditions which I feel are equally deplorable; the enslavement of House Elves and arranged alliance marriages. The enslavement of the House Elves, I suppose, is far better as the House Elves wish to have a Master, although I have often wondered if it is a result of a curse placed long ago."
"Being a Pureblood from a proper family, she understands the value of alliances and I am in a position now to offer her a much better life than before. She is no longer young and I can offer her a position in an ancient and noble wizarding house," Severus rolled his eyes. "If Lucretia were still alive, she would have signed off on it in a heartbeat. Besides, this arrangement has put me in a better position to serve the Order." Severus reached into his vest and pulled out a large box. Opening it, it revealed an emerald ring in a platinum setting; the large emerald was encircled with smaller diamonds. "The traditional engagement ring for the Black family, or so the Head Goblin at Gringotts informed me. I did ensure it was not cursed."
Dumbledore examined the ring, letting out a low appreciative whistle. Closing the lid on the box, he watched as Severus put it back into his pocket. "But Ruedella is a grown woman," he countered, "not some young girl fresh out of Hogwarts. She's traveled the world."
"She will do what her grandfather says," Severus said with quick confidence, as if displaying his assurance in the matter would indeed make it so. "Once Thuban does us the favor of responding to my request. I did work out the details with Rodolphus..." Severus growled, "... once Rabastan and I were able to convince the dolt that the vampire attack on my mother did not leave me as a vampire. Bloody stupid dunderhead has seen me more than once out in the sunlight."
"Well...let's say that there are a few residual features that you inherited from the attacks and as such you are required to take potions..." Dumbledore waved his hand. "Does Ruedella..."
"Rabastan let her in on that 'little secret' years ago," Severus snuffed.
"And while you are at Hogwarts, I suppose that you will keep her here or will she go back to Gringotts?" Dumbledore asked. "Assuming she does not turn you into something..."
"I will request that she assume the required social duties, but I suppose some consulting contracts here and there would keep her otherwise occupied..." Severus began.
"Until your timetable dictates that it is time for her to squeeze out a little bat or two," Dumbledore interrupted. His voice betrayed a level of annoyance, but he kept his tone as amicable as possible in hopes of talking some sense into the younger wizard.
"Must you act like a first year? Next you'll tell me not to upset Minerva lest she 'have kittens.' Obviously I must ask that you remove the charm protecting this house. I will add one myself and be its keeper. She is safe here and once our business with her family is through, I hope to keep her away from them as much as possible," Severus replied tersely.
"I was thinking along the same lines—regarding her protection," Dumbledore said. "I suppose you are aware of her Quidditch talent?"
"She cannot ride a broom with running straight into the nearest stone wall," Severus said. "Where a wall is lacking, the ground works just as well…"
"I was well aware of Rabastan's gambling ring when he was in school," Dumbledore interrupted, "and I found out that Ruedella was assisting him. Actual Seers cannot control their talent; in the two cases where Sybil made accurate predictions, she was quite unaware that she was Seeing. Because a Rune Diviner can ask questions at will, someone even with a hint of the talent could be very dangerous. As such, many believe that Rune Divination is rooted in Dark Arts. Although I am still undecided if I agree with that, I do acknowledge that such a talent could be very dangerous. I am glad that she has abandoned the practice—which it seems she has out of fear—but because when we know the future, sometimes we can alter it. I maintain that such knowledge alters our sense and inalienable right to choice."
"Making prophecies self-fulfilling or altering events that should take place in order to prevent more disastrous ones from occurring in their stead," Severus concluded. "Yes, Albus, I am quite aware and that is why I am going to great lengths to protect her. Thus far, Rabastan has not, to my knowledge, mentioned this to anyone. I fear, though, that if he is pressed to perform for the Dark Lord, he may compromise her to gain the Dark Lord's favor. She may not be able to reproduce Trelawney's prophesy—but he may be insistent that she try."
"Well, then it is those great lengths that explain this," Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out the forged owl receipt. "Do tell Perloin that his work is impressive, it even fooled me until I realized that her Muggle home had anti-owl wards. Given that, how could she even get this receipt?" He waved his hand as Severus was about to speak. "I give you a great deal of latitude because I trust you, Severus, and we can explain the receipt, assuming any Auror thinks of this puzzle, by saying that she must have temporarily took them down. I know that the receipt was necessary to convince others, and from time to time I can see the benefit in some well-intended hoodwinking. But," Dumbledore looked at the younger wizard straight in the eyes, "I would prefer that you hone your tricks on someone else. I believed the girl was innocent, there was no need to convince me further."
"The receipt, actually," Severus explained, "was invaluable in that I told the others it was forged and I placed it there to solidify her 'appearance' of innocence. Perloin flooed me, apparently Rodolphus sent someone to his shop to inquire about my story."
"Very well," Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his temples tiredly, "I am starting to lose track on precisely who you are trying to fool in all this. However, back to the original topic..." He paused and took a few sips of tea. "I was going to discuss this with her this week, but no better time than today, I suppose. As you know I need an instructor..."
"I will not permit her to..." Severus began hurriedly.
"Bill Weasley will teach Defense Against Dark Arts this year," Dumbledore interrupted, anticipating Severus' concern. "Professor Enigmus turned in her resignation earlier this month. I knew that she was approaching retirement and I believe that the 'official' news of Voldemort's return influenced her decision. Ruedella would be well qualified to teach Ancient Runes and I can offer her the protection Hogwarts offers. It would, however, require that she leave Gringotts...at least temporarily or extend her sabbatical…"
As Dumbledore was going to continue, a loud screech at the kitchen window gained both their attentions. A huge Eagle Owl, clad in a formal green flying vest and hood bearing the Malfoy crest, perched on the sill. Seeing Severus, the owl hopped in, and few to the table, dropping a parcel about the size of a cigar box in front of him. Summoning some fresh meat from the icebox, Severus fed it to the owl and then carefully checked the package for traps before opening it. "From Thuban Malfoy," he said to Dumbledore, who was looking on with more than mild interest.
"I will leave you to your business," Dumbledore said. "In the meanwhile I shall ensure that everyone is packed and on their way. When everyone has left, I will eliminate the charm on the mansion and you can re-establish it. I would also like the opportunity to approach Ruedella..."
"He was not supposed to do this!" Severus threw down the box on the table. "Rodolphus guaranteed that he would simply sign off..."
"A knot in your perfectly laid out time table?" Dumbledore asked, wondering if Thuban would yet again be an unexpected ally.
Severus simply threw the letter across the table to the old wizard, and folded his arms. He stared at the parchment, his mind apparently working through various combinations, variations, and angles to concoct the perfect loophole to the scenario the senior Malfoy laid out.
"Let's see," Dumbledore picked up the parchment, lowering his glasses down his nose to assist with reading.
Severus –
News of your most recent exploits has reached my ears. Needless to say, I am quite interested in seeing how far you get. Obviously, I cannot turn down your request outright, and all considering, I have no real reason. My grandson, Lucius, speaks highly of you and I daresay that you are perhaps a positive reflection upon your mother – a second generation of Snape who is starting to restore his birthrights. May the fortune and name of Black assist you in your endeavor as the ranks of true Purebloods in waning.
I have signed your request, however, an additional signature—that of Ruedella's—is required to make it binding. She is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. Of course, the contract is charmed to be sensitive to any magical interventions. Send a copy of the signed contacts at your earliest convenience.
Regards,
Thuban Julius Malfoy
"It would appear, Severus," Dumbledore said with an amused chuckle, "that you will have to add few additional tasks onto your timetable."
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