But here, finally, came a piece of luck. For now Fate, which had been fairly absent these past few weeks, was now more than munificent to Severus and Rodolphus, and bestowed upon them an invaluable gift.
Rodolphus had buckled down and set himself to a Charms essay with determination, and with four hours of ardent research earned his first perfect ten out of ten. The next morning, which was Hallowe'en, only one day before Malfoy's secret appointment, a package arrived at the Slytherin table from Rodolphus' father. He ripped it open right at the table, but his face froze when he saw what was inside.
"What is it, Lestrange?" Bulstrode asked. "Is it something expensive?"
Rodolphus looked like he'd tried to stare down a Basilisk. But when Avery craned his neck to see into the box Rodolphus quickly flipped the cardboard flaps shut, seized Severus' arm, and dragged him and the package out of the Great Hall.
"Ouch! Let go!" Severus complained as Rodolphus yanked him into an empty classroom down the hall. "What's going on?"
Rodolphus slammed the door and turned to face him with shining eyes. "Sev, do you remember me saying my dad has an Invisibility Cloak?"
"Yes." Severus cottoned on. His jaw dropped. "No…"
Rodolphus nodded. "Guess who has it now?" He grinned as he slowly opened the package and drew out a beautiful, shimmering cloak of the sheerest material they had ever seen. Severus was struck dumb. He reached out and stroked it gently.
"It's like a mirror," he murmured in awe, "a liquid mirror."
Rodolphus threw the cloak round his shoulders and vanished.
"Rodolphus!" Severus jumped up in surprise and began to move between the desks, waving his arms at chest height. "Rodolphus!"
A blow landed. "Ow," said Rodolphus, tugging off the hood. His disembodied head grinned at Severus. "Try it on," he invited, casting the Invisibility Cloak over Severus' head. Severus looked down at his body.
"My feet—my legs! I can't see my body! This is fantastic!"
"And it couldn't have come at a better time," Rodolphus agreed, looking off to Severus' left. "Malfoy won't be able to see us in this!"
"I can't believe your father really gave it to you," Severus whispered enviously, twirling in a circle. The cloak was smooth and fluid, lighter than air. He felt like a shadow. "Mine would never trust me with something so valuable as this. He wouldn't trust me to polish his pointed shoes."
"Yes, but my father loves me," Rodolphus said. Severus gave considerable thought to punching Rodolphus in the stomach. "Aren't you glad my older brother's thick as two posts? Or else the cloak might have gone to him."
Severus suddenly flipped back the hood. "Are you telling me," he said incredulously as Rodolphus looked round at his floating head in surprise, "are you telling me that your father will simply hand these things out to any of his sons that can manage a mark of ten out of ten, just once?"
Rodolphus shrugged. "I've never had occasion to check that. Like I said, Rabastan's a real thicko, even stupider than I am, Dad's never had to give him any rewards, let alone anything so valuable as this. Quelle chance, non?"
"You spoiled brat!"
"Oh, Sev! He knows I'll take good care of it! Anyways aren't you glad I've got it? Now we can spy on Malfoy completely unnoticed. It's perfect!"
The bell rang and they heard people passing through the Entrance Hall. Severus reluctantly let the cloak spill back into the box, which Rodolphus folded up lovingly. Then they grinned at each other.
Rodolphus rubbed his hands together. "We're going to have such fun tomorrow!"
Hallowe'en was a whirlwind of candy, jack-o-lanterns, pranks and song. The Slytherin first years were amazed to find Rodolphus and Severus in the highest of spirits, reckless and unusually exuberant. In the evening the whole group gorged themselves on sweets until they were nearly sick. It was fortunate that the next day was Saturday, because in the morning Severus awoke feeling more terrible than the time he and Rodolphus had stolen a bottle of sherry from Septimus Snape's sideboard and snuck gulps during an elegant dinner party in honour of an important foreign dignitary.
They could hardly sit still all day. "Why are the pair of you so jittery?" Petula asked when she became exasperated with their sporadic giggles and their constant fidgeting. "We've all got homework to do, in case you'd both forgotten."
"Somehow I don't think I'd be able to keep my mind on it," Severus replied, bouncing in his seat. The common room was almost empty, as many of the older Slytherins liked to make the most of their Hogsmeade weekends and spent much of the day in the village. Malfoy and Jugson were already gone, Severus noticed.
"What've you two got to be excited about?" Bellatrix asked suspiciously. She was playing chess with Maud Wilkes. "Check, Maud. And Severus, you're lying. You positively exist to read books and write long essays. Studying is your life."
"It is not," Severus said in annoyance. "It's not like I like to study."
The others groaned. "You love to study!" said Bellatrix. "And you're infecting Rodolphus. Did he tell you he got a perfect ten on his Charms paper?"
"He might have mentioned it," Severus said casually. "If only I could infect you with homework-fever too, Belle, then we might all survive till second year."
"Fat chance," Bellatrix scoffed. "Rook to D-4." Her rook charged at Maud's king like a battering ram. "Checkmate, Maud!"
"Will you stop bouncing, Severus!" Petula cried, throwing down her quill. "Get out of here, both of you, I can't concentrate with your fidgeting! Out, out!"
Ollivander the wand-maker came to Hogwarts that morning to fit Severus for his new wand. He looked grim as he met Severus in the Great Hall with a tape measure and a parchment and quill.
"Your wand is your only weapon!" he scolded as his tape measure skittered across Severus' back, measuring the distance between his shoulder blades. "You've got to protect it—or else how will it protect you?"
Severus thought about telling Ollivander to make sturdier wands, but decided it wouldn't be wise to offend him. "Yeah," he said unenthusiastically, trying not to blink as the tape measure stretched across first one eyelid, then the other.
Professor Astaroth was present too. Severus learned Astaroth and Ollivander were old friends. "Mr. Ollivander and I came to Hogwarts together," he explained. "We were both prefects in our fifth year."
"Slytherin was never so well-run," Ollivander agreed absently. He had tossed his quill aside and was rummaging through a leather satchel. "Though I was quite offended by what your wand did, Chrys…"
"Past is past, Mr. Ollivander," Astaroth said, a bit tightly. "I suppose I was a bit more offended than you were, considering the wand came from your family's shop."
Ollivander glanced at him and smiled, shrugging, "We explained proper wand care to you. It's not our fault you forgot." He resumed his search. "Now where did I put that- I could have sworn I- but if it's not in the- aha!"
He produced a single long wand box, covered in dust. "Haven't had to use this in a while," he explained. Severus stared.
"Do you already know exactly which wand will fit me?"
"Mr. Snape, this is no ordinary wand box! It is strictly for emergencies. But now that you mention it, I don't recall fitting you for your first wand in the summer."
"No, my grandfather died in August and he left me his wand in his will. Hornbeam with a unicorn hair core."
"That doesn't sound familiar."
"It was a Gregorovitch."
"Ah! Well, I myself have never been fond of hornbeam. Too tough, too dry!"
Astaroth looked interested. "So you have only been functioning at half capacity for the past two months? Impressive, considering your academic achievement to this point…"
"Very well," said Ollivander, "now we shall see what you are capable of with a properly fitted wand."
He pulled off the cover and took out a long red wand. "Try this one."
Severus waved the red wand a little, but nothing happened. "Didn't think so," muttered Ollivander thoughtfully, taking it and putting it back in the box. But no sooner had he popped the cover on than he was yanking it off again, eagerly, and handing Severus a wand—a different wand. "Mahogany, unicorn hair core, ten and three-quarter inches," Ollivander noted on his parchment. "Go on, give it a wave!"
Severus didn't like any of the next ten wands that came out of the box one after the other. But the twelfth wand! The twelfth wand filled him with a strange, sweet feeling, like he'd just swallowed a Sugar Quill whole. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling; just bizarre. "This is the one," he whispered.
"Yew, dragon heartstring, eight and a half inches," Ollivander said. "A fine wand. Let's see a Levitation Charm, then."
Severus managed, after a few moments, to lift the wand box into the air. "Excellent," Ollivander said approvingly, looking cheerfully satisfied.
"Excellent," murmured Astaroth. Severus didn't like how pleased his Head of House was looking. He paid Ollivander with Potter's money, thanked him, and ran off to find Rodolphus, trying to forget the look of smug elation on Astaroth's face.
At last Severus decided they could set out for Hogsmeade. At one-thirty they slipped out of the common room nonchalantly, the Invisibility Cloak stuffed up Rodolphus' sleeve. Their friends were arguing over whether a chess move Bellatrix had made was valid, and did not notice them leave. But they had just emerged from the dungeons when they heard the half-hysterical scream, "SNAPE!"
They wheeled swiftly and drew their wands as one. Bearing down upon them was Potter, with Black in tow. Severus stifled a laugh. Their hair stood on end and their eyes were wide in their unnaturally pale faces, in which the scars from their Quidditch skirmish had not faded. Never had the two looked more incensed—or at least, Potter did. Black simply seemed dumbstruck, his mouth hanging partly open.
Rodolphus took one look at them and doubled over with laughter.
"You're looking rather mad today, Potter," Severus commented. "Something amiss?"
"FILCH!" bellowed Potter, shoving Rodolphus aside to scream directly in Severus' face. Rodolphus was laughing too hard to object.
"Ah yes, the detention!" Severus said, pasting an expression of polite attentiveness on his face. "How was that?"
Black gave an indistinct yelp that might have been, "Ouch."
"You seem to be having trouble communicating today," Severus observed dryly. "Perhaps you'd like to continue this chat when you're better equipped for more complex thought processes. Shall we schedule a meeting for, say, ten or fifteen years from now?"
Potter seized Severus by the front of his robes and shook him roughly. "He chained us up!" he roared, spittle flying in Severus' face. "TO THE CEILING!"
"I'll bet that hurt," Severus said calmly, wiping his cheeks. He gingerly took one of Potter's hands between two fingers and examined the purple bruises where Filch's manacles had chafed his wrist. "I hope that from now on you'll think twice about sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night."
Potter's red face twisted and he emitted a furious screech as he wrenched his wrist from Severus' grip.
"The rules are there for our safety," Severus continued in the same calm, amiable tone. "Filch can conjure his own strange devilries too, you know. I've heard that he can make a mysterious flame on the end of a little stick that he holds in his hand—you wouldn't want to upset a powerful man like that, even if he is only the caretaker."
"Is there a problem here?" squeaked Professor Flitwick from the top of the marble staircase. "Mr. Potter, please don't mangle Mr. Snape!"
Potter reluctantly released Snape.
"You'll regret framing us, Snivellus," he hissed. "We'll get you for this, I promise you!"
"We shall bind you to your word," Rodolphus choked out through his giggles. Potter threw him a murderous look, grabbed Black and stomped away.
They reached the fourth floor without further incident, reflected themselves through the mirror, negotiated the spiral staircase and the dark subterranean tunnel, then proceeded up the ladder and out of the rubbish bin. They were careful to throw the Cloak over themselves while still in the safety of the alley by the post office.
"Does it hide both of us completely?" Severus asked anxiously, turning this way and that, trying to see if any part of himself was visible.
"Stop worrying, Sev," Rodolphus said airily. "I assure you this cloak is perfectly ample. Let's go, we've but fifteen minutes till Malfoy's meeting with the Death Eaters."
It was easier to find their way through the village in daylight. It had been a dry week, for which Severus was very glad—it would have been a dead giveaway if there had been mud to leave their incorporeal footprints in.
They hurried up the path to the Hog's Head pub, making a concerted effort to ignore the charming new things in the lit-up shops' windows. They had the presence of mind to wait for someone to walk in or out the door first, to avoid attracting the barman's attention to an empty doorway. They did not have to wait long before a husky, cranky-looking man waddled past them and threw open the door, failing to see the two boys squeezing in after him.
The first thought that came to Severus' mind when they entered the pub was 'filthy'. The single room comprising the pub was tiny and dingy, and the floor felt like it was composed of layers and layers of grime, and the only light in the room came from the stubby candles that dripped wax on the dirty little tables. But what replaced his initial desire to set a dozen house-elves on the place was curiosity, because the clientele greatly piqued Severus' interest.
There were only about half a dozen people in the room. Most of the patrons hunched over the bar or seated at the tables were shapelessly swathed in cloaks or veils. Some were alone, like the ugly old witch hunched by the fireplace smoking a foul-smelling pipe, but several small groups of sinister-looking witches and wizards were talking quietly at the tables. Severus sniffed the air cautiously. Besides the witch's reeking pipe smoke he detected another fainter stench that put him in mind of—goats?
The hircine pub seemed to be an ideal site for clandestine appointments and underhanded dealings, for the air was full of furtive susurrations and Severus could almost feel the eyes that darted here and there and bored into the newcomer—the visible one, that is.
The barman, a tall, thin wizard with a long grey beard and a guarded expression, glanced up from the mug he was filling when the big man entered. Severus thought he looked vaguely familiar. The barman nodded as the beefy wizard ambled to the bar.
"The usual, Starkey?" asked the barman, sliding a huge glass of mulled mead across the counter without waiting for an answer.
He appeared oblivious to the two first years' presence, for after he served Starkey he simply began to wipe the countertop with a dishrag. Severus wondered briefly how effective this exercise could be, as the dishrag was dirtier than the counter.
"Want to see if we can steal a couple Butterbeers?" Rodolphus whispered.
"No!" hissed Severus. "Let's just hide—Malfoy and Jugson'll be here any minute."
Suddenly the door swung open behind them and they had to move swiftly to flatten themselves against the wall. In came Lucius Malfoy, looking more apprehensive than Severus had ever seen him. Behind him was burly Jugson, who was nervously wringing his hat out of shape.
"Good afternoon," Malfoy said to the barman. The old wizard simply kept scouring the counter with his filthy rag and scowled wordlessly at Malfoy.
"Er, two Butterbeers, please," said Malfoy uncertainly. The barman slowly reached under the counter and produced two very dusty bottles.
"Two Sickles," he grunted. The seventh years paid him quickly and made a beeline for the table furthest from the bar.
Severus and Rodolphus followed silently and ducked under the table. Jugson's big foot narrowly missed Severus' elbow as he crouched in the dirt. The dense pink fumes from the old witch's pipe were low-lying, and trickled across the floor to the two boys hiding under the table, making breathing an effort.
Severus moved forward a little and peered over the edge of the table. "Do you see them?" Jugson was asking.
"Keep your voice down!" hissed Malfoy. "And how do you expect me to know what they look like from their correspondence? I've told them about us—they'll recognize us. Stop looking so bloody petrified, Jugson! Just drink your Butterbeer." He grimaced at his own filthy bottle and began to gingerly wipe away the layer of dust.
"Sev!" Rodolphus pulled Severus back down as the door swung open again and three imperious wizards wearing black cloaks entered in a line.
Severus thought they looked like the Dementors he'd once seen in a book. Their faces were in total obscurity, as their hoods were pulled down low explicitly to conceal their features. With a brief nod at Malfoy, they started purposefully towards the table, pausing at the bar on the way.
"Sherry," muttered the first man, casting a nervous eye round the premises. He had a low, growling voice.
"Firewhiskey," rumbled the second in a whiskery croak, but with the tiniest flutter, like he was frightened.
"Redcurrant rum," squeaked the third in a very artificial falsetto that to Severus was wholly incongruous, for he was the tallest and burliest of the three. He too seemed anxious to preserve his anonymity.
"Coming right up," said the bartender calmly, unmoved by their bizarre manner.
The hems of three coarse black cloaks stopped in front of Severus and Rodolphus. Severus nearly got touched by one wizard's pointed, polished black shoe and had to shrink away in a hurry.
"Lucius Malfoy?" grunted the croaky-voiced wizard. "Silas Jugson?"
"Yes," said Malfoy, with the slightest of tremors in his voice.
Rodolphus nudged Severus and grinned, nodding towards Jugson, whose knees were knocking together under the table.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Malfoy went on, seeming to recover his aplomb. "I'm greatly obliged to you for taking the time to meet us. Please take a seat, won't you?"
The two seventh years shifted their spindly chairs quickly to one side of the table while the three Death Eaters slid gracefully into the chairs on the other side. Severus and Rodolphus had to hastily shuffle around in the dirt to avoid getting kicked.
"Er, I-" began Malfoy.
"Stop," said the falsetto wizard. "Wait just a moment, please."
The old bartender hobbled to their booth with a tray and deposited the drinks on the table. Then he wandered off and went straight back to wiping the filthy countertop, making it clear he had no interest in his patrons' business dealings. The falsetto Death Eater seemed to relax.
"You were saying, Mr. Malfoy?" prompted the first wizard in a hushed voice. This was quite a band of radicals, Severus thought to himself wryly: one afraid of being seen, one afraid of being heard, one simply afraid.
"Er, ah, yes," Malfoy said, apparently thinking along the same lines as Severus, for he went on, "Am I correct in thinking I have the honour of addressing my contact Mr. Arcanus?"
"Shh!" whispered the first, deep-voiced Death Eater. But he seemed to have gotten over his anxiety of being overheard, because when he spoke next he sounded vaguely amused. "Yes, I am he. Strange, Mr. Mysticus, is it not, how Mr. Malfoy's manner may shift from courteous to simply curt in a matter of seconds?"
"Quite strange, Mr. Arcanus," agreed Mysticus, the croaking wizard. "We shall have to look out for his changing tempers, shall we not, Mr. Invisus?"
"Indeed we shall, Mr. Mysticus," said the falsetto wizard. "You understand of course, Mr. Malfoy, that we always use pseudonyms at our recruitment meetings."
"Of course," said Malfoy smoothly. "You have, ah, many engagements like this?"
"Many? No, of course not," said Invisus. "Our organization is a very exclusive one, Mr. Malfoy. We meet almost no one. But your letters intrigued us. You seemed exceedingly interested in participating in our activities. It is not often that a wizard is drawn to our ideology at so young an age. Why, pray tell, do you wish to become one of us?"
"Because I completely believe in your doctrine and You-Kn--your leader," Malfoy said. "His views are mine as well."
"And you, Mr. Jugson, what do you think?" Mysticus asked. Severus smiled under the table at the idea of Jugson thinking.
"Er- well- yes, what Malfoy said," Jugson stammered.
"Our correspondence has been a welcome respite from the tedium of the everyday," drawled Arcanus. "Eloquent style, and, I might add, very respectable penmanship."
Malfoy puffed out his chest with pride. "Thank you, sir. Professor Astaroth always compliments my calligraphy, too."
"Astaroth!" repeated Mysticus with a shudder. "Chrysogonus Astaroth, I presume?"
"Of course it's the same man, how many Astaroths do you know?" Arcanus said.
"Just the one cousin of mine," said Mysticus.
"Cousin!" Jugson said in alarm.
"Yes—but Merlin's beard, what a silly stuck-up fellow he is! Have no fear, Mr. Jugson, he knows nothing of my—ahem—less principled dealings. Does he still keep his wand away from his pants? I thought as much. Well, we learn from our mistakes." Severus and Rodolphus exchanged curious grins.
"He's a former Auror," Jugson said anxiously.
"Wish he'd calm down," Rodolphus whispered to Severus, "when he gets nervous he jogs his left leg and I'm having such a time staying out of his way."
"Shhh," Severus said, straining to hear the discussion above their heads.
Mysticus was saying, "True, he did work for the Ministry for forty-two years, but he never stopped griping about it for a second. Underpaid, overworked, underappreciated, too few awards, too small an office--too big an ego! You must understand that Chrysogonus is a Slytherin first and an Auror second."
"Have you got something against Slytherin?" Malfoy asked, affronted into impertinence.
"No Mr Malfoy, I haven't, but surely you remember that ambition and love of power are idiosyncratic to your noble house. Chrysogonus has got a lot of it. Eventually he shall realize, as you have, that ours is the only path to power and glory."
"Power and glory," Jugson murmured.Invisus hadn't said anything for a while, but presently his falsetto voice broke into the conversation.
"Arcanus, Mysticus, you are too hasty," he scolded. "One can never be too chary. How can we be certain that this is not an elaborate trap devised by our enemies in the Ministry?"
Malfoy drew himself up indignantly. "I would never stoop so low as to betray great revolutionaries like yourselves."
"Oh, I would," said Arcanus. "You mustn't underestimate the value of double-crossing. What do you think we want Astaroth for?"
"Hush, Arcanus," Invisus chided.
"I speak only of general truths," Arcanus said. "You know as well as I do, Invisus, how his contacts in the Ministry and... elsewhere would be extremely useful to us."
"Exactly," Malfoy said eagerly, "and I too could contribute my influence! My family, as you are undoubtedly aware, has many contacts in all places, high and low, and if I could-"
"Mr. Malfoy, with your enthusiasm you only betray your ignorance," Arcanus interrupted. "You are as yet too young to wield your family's influence unobtrusively and effectively. Why, you are not even yet patriarch! I think it would perhaps be prudent for you to wait a few years before pledging your life to his Lordship."
Malfoy was quiet for a moment, digesting the rebuke. Then he spoke, quietly, but with smooth, smug confidence.
"With your condescension, Mr. Arcanus, you only betray your desperation. You say I am too young, too green perhaps; but if that is the case, why agree to meet with me at all? Why risk being caught if you were only coming to turn me down? And most telling of all, why would it take three of you to deliver one message of rejection?" He appeared to have forgotten completely about Jugson beside him, and Jugson didn't seem eager to remind him. "I requested this meeting, but you came to size me up, to test me with mockery and rejection. Well, I refuse to give in. I am going to be a Death Eater, even if I have to go to You-Know-Who himself for his approval."
"What d'you think then, Arcanus?" Mysticus asked, a note of amusement in his croaking voice. "Has he passed your test?"
"I wasn't aware I had set one," Arcanus said dryly. "He's getting ahead of himself. And if you want to be a Death Eater, Mr. Malfoy, you do have to have the sanction of his Lordship himself."
"I shall do it," Malfoy said. "I'll do anything."
"Hmmmm," was all Arcanus would say to this.
Malfoy went on, "You must understand: I'm seventeen. It's my last year at Hogwarts. I've got to think about the future--and I firmly believe You-Know-Who will be a crucial part of that future."
"Hear that, lads?" squeaked Invisus, "We've got a Seer among us!"
"I'll drink to that," Mysticus said cheerily, and the pair of them clinked glasses.
"We've decided we like you, Mr. Malfoy, you and your nervous friend," Mysticus said genially, ignoring the dubious rumblings coming from Arcanus' end of the table. "There aren't many wizards nowadays bold enough to brave the tremendous bad press bestowed on our lord, let alone resourceful enough get in touch with us. What are you planning to do after Hogwarts?"
"I'm from a rather affluent family, so I don't really have to worry about what it is I do for a living," Malfoy said haughtily. "But I do want to do something prestigious, something that will allow me to invest my money in a good cause, something worthwhile to us purebloods."
Mysticus laughed a merry, rumbling laugh and nudged Invisus. "We're a cause now, next he'll be saying we're on a crusade!"
"Shut up, Mysticus," Arcanus hissed, as a few heads turned, seeking the source of the hearty laughter. "We don't want to attract attention."
"Sorry, Arcanus," Mysticus said meekly.
"You've got to be less conspicuous," said Invisus. "Perhaps if you didn't drink so much..."
"Now look here," said Mysticus in annoyance, leaning over and upsetting the glass of rum, which spilled into Invisus' lap.
"Merde, Mysticus, look what you've done!" Invisus hissed.
"Sorry, Invisus," Mysticus said contritely, pulling out his handkerchief and trying to daub at the rum on of his companion's robes. "I'm terribly clumsy, you know, I really am sorry…"
Mysticus' feet moved when he dug the handkerchief out of his pocket and Severus hurriedly shifted out of the way, nearly falling into Rodolphus. "Budge up," he started to whisper, but he stopped suddenly at the sight of Rodolphus' suddenly white, petrified face.
"We've got to get out of here," Rodolphus said without bothering to whisper.
"But we've only just got here, Jugson, be quiet," Malfoy said.
"I beg your pardon?" Jugson said stupidly.
"Is there a problem?" asked Arcanus.
"Why?" Severus hissed to Rodolphus.
"We have to leave now," Rodolphus said urgently, tugging on his sleeve and accidentally knocking Mysticus' shin with his elbow.
"Did you just kick me, Invisus?" Mysticus asked in surprise.
"Of course not!"
"I said, we just got here, Jugson," Malfoy repeated.
"I didn't say anything!"
"I want to go right now," Rodolphus insisted.
"But we haven't heard the rest of their meeting!" Severus said.
"But we haven't ordered yet!" Arcanus said to his colleagues. "I'm famished and the liver and onions here is excellent."
"What the devil are you talking about?" Invisus said blankly.
"Let's go!" Rodolphus hissed.
He seized Severus' arm and started to slide out from under the table, but Severus, confused, did not move with him. Rodolphus lost his balance and fell to the floor as the Invisibility Cloak slithered off their shoulders, trapped under Severus' shoe. He sprawled on his back out into the open and Severus was dragged forward, spread-eagled on Rodolphus' knees.
The pub fell silent. Severus stared at the ceiling, stunned, as five angry figures hove into view above the tabletop.
"You two!" Malfoy spat, his face drained of colour.
"What are you doing here?" demanded Jugson and Invisus at the same time, in exactly the same aghast tone.
"Are these gentlemen with you, Mr. Malfoy?" Mysticus asked. Arcanus was standing frozen with shock.
"No!" Malfoy said quickly, seizing both first years by the scruff of their necks and hauling them to their feet. "You're DEAD," he hissed wrathfully in their ears.
The bartender had eased out from behind the bar and was suddenly standing next to them.
"You're first years," he observed coldly. "You can't come here."
"I'll deal with them," Malfoy responded.
"Out," said the barman grimly, shaking his filthy dishrag at the four students. "All four of you Hogwarts lads, I want you out right now."
"Fine, we're gone," barked Malfoy. To the Death Eaters he said, with excessive cordiality masking his acute rage, "Perhaps we can meet another time?"
"We'll keep in touch," Invisus said, staring at the two first years. Arcanus had one hand clamped over his heart, as if feeling palpitations from the shock.
Then Malfoy was stalking to the door, shoving his charges ahead of him while Jugson jogged after them, looking positively terrified. Rodolphus was still very white and Severus had never been so scared in his life. But somehow it was in times of utter terror like these that he was at his most brilliant.
"I grabbed the Cloak," he whispered to Rodolphus.
"Severus, I love you," Rodolphus hissed back feverishly. "Wait for it—wait-"
Malfoy barged out of the inn and threw both boys to the ground. He inhaled sharply, drawing breath to begin raging at them—but they scrambled to their feet and Rodolphus bellowed, "Now!"
Severus flung the Invisibility Cloak over their heads and they were off like a shot, with Malfoy's stunned roars filling the air behind them.
They ran and ran, the Cloak flapping about their legs. They dove headlong into the uncovered rubbish bin and hit the ground hard, causing Severus to stumble as he fought to take in breath; but Rodolphus yanked the cover over their heads and pleaded, "No, we've got to go on!" and they kept running until they collapsed in the piled-up dust at the top of the spiral staircase, drenched in sweat and completely winded.
"Lumos!"
As his wandtip splashed its faint light on pale, panting Rodolphus, sprawled flat on the dusty floor, Severus slumped against the rough-hewn wall. He was shaking and his ribs ached with the effort of breathing.
"Have you gone completely bloody mad?" he shouted hoarsely at Rodolphus. "What were you thinking, dashing out of there like a lunatic at the worst possible time?"
Rodolphus bolted upright and stared at him with wide eyes.
"You didn't recognize them?"
"Recognize who?" snapped Severus.
"Invisus and Arcanus," Rodolphus said hysterically. "The Death Eaters. They were our fathers."
Severus dropped his wand, which clattered off into a corner.
"What?"