Hi All,
HP belongs still to Rowling.
We are to dive deeper into the origins and concept of magic, maybe deviate a bit from canon or just trying to explain? :) Please tell me what you think!
I introduce a bunch of new characters. I loved living in France and got inspiration from my memories. Dear French readers, if you notice something you find out of place, please contact me so I may correct my mistakes.
Also, a casual Death Eater gathering ahead. Grab to your seatbelts because they tell some disturbing tales, but the horror comes only later. According to this:
This story is labelled M for a reason, adult content ahead, please consider yourselves warned.
Chapter 9. Old friends, new tales
The morning's playful brightness shining through the lake found Severus in the same armchair and mocked him. Before he processed the fact that he'd spent the entire afternoon and night folded in his reading chair, a determined knock demanded his sleepy attention; by the sound, he figured probably not for the first time.
On his reluctant "Enter!" after he disabled the wards and locks with an elaborate wave of his wand, Dumbledore walked in with outrageous freshness for such an early hour.
"Severus, already up and about, I see!" – He deliberately misunderstood his colleague's faltering stance before his seat. – "Have you had your breakfast already?"
Severus gestured for him on one of the armchairs and called for a house elf to order a strong coffee. Dumbledore asked for a breakfast tray and soon heartily enjoyed it in Snape's quarters like this was the most natural thing in the world.
"You missed out the catfight yesterday" – the Headmaster chatted between bites of jam and toast – "Sybil wandered down from her tower only to bump into Minerva in the Great Hall. Sadly, neither found a sufficient excuse in time…" - the old wizard chuckled. "I have to say, Minerva outdid herself during the first course. Not a word, not a sniff, I began to worry about her. Then by the turkey, Sybil remembered the horrors she saw in her crystal balls earlier this week. Apparently, our dear Minerva was supposed to choke on the bones. I don't need to tell you, she refused to do so, but only told Sybil to apply said bones to a place where no one would choke on them. When our precious fortune teller persevered, she suggested that Sybil should visit St. Mungo's when she dared to protest, Minerva even proposed to offer any outward signs of injury to ensure her acceptance for a longer stay."
"I am sure you enjoyed yourself, exceedingly." – Severus sipped his coffee.
"I admit to my fault, but who wouldn't?"
Severus' countenance suggested the Headmaster should not look far to find someone not sharing in his amusement, but Dumbledore seemed disinclined to look at all.
"Have you found a similar joyous way to occupy your last day?" – He asked instead.
"Of course, sir, you must know already that I don't like sitting idly, and there's no better way to train one's nerves than finding a way to spike the most powerful dark wizard's ire."
"I seriously doubt your nerves are in any more need of training after all these years, but I recommend your diligence."- Dumbledore smiled. "So, how are your nerves this morning?"
"Stiff."
"And was it worth the effort?"
Knowing the chat was over, Severus put his cup down.
"I am back in his good graces." – He announced. "Although I doubt Avery will forget my entrance anytime soon. You will find it interesting that Lucius is in charge of finding the one responsible for the Dementor-attack. What is more, he isn't searching among his comrades. Whoever put this in motion surprised both sides. Now Potter's expulsion is less unanticipated, and I expect those dear fellows to put their all effort in his case. Whatever you did in the Ministry, you are not finished yet."
"I am sure you are right. Harry will face the inquiry board, but we have a strong case, and I'm not completely out of friends either. Could you explain yourself?"
Severus nodded.
"I am the lucky pupil to receive the Dark Lord's tutoring. As soon as I gather all knowledge, you might share about this shift in my magic, I must make myself useful around Iris Dubois, and at least try to gather the prophecy from under Lucius' nose." He changed his mind about the coffee and reloaded his cup with measured moves. "It could not be simpler. And I reckon a day later I might change the colour of the seas." he offered, sitting back. "Would you share your preferences, or am I to figure that one out either?"
"As for the colour, I trust your judgment until you avoid red. If blue and green are not to your liking, at least spare us the cliché. Sage dear is competent enough to deal with her cousin, and if she has any difficulties, there is her father. So you end up with Lucius and me." – Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and touched his fingertips together while propping his elbows on the armrests. "He might be happier if you only offer some moral support, and it's also healthier. Unless you want to risk an early journey to the other side by the hands of the Unspeakables."
"Are you sure they are as capable as you suggest? Why guard their corridor then?"
The Headmaster pulled a face. "Because I am not that sure. However, Arthur and most of my older friends suggest that the Department of Mysteries has its own set of wards, and a defence no one in their right minds should challenge. I leave it to Lucius to figure those out; he has lot to discover, I assume."
Severus sipped his coffee with mixed feelings. "When his nosing around proves unsuccessful, and my assistance turns out fruitless, we'll be into jolly days… Of course, there's always Avery to turn the tables when his faculties are unimpaired."
"Always the uncompromising optimist." Dumbledore shook his head with a fond smile. "Of course, if this is the prize of Tom's tutoring, I share in your sadness for what you have to refuse. Would you perhaps like me to recompense your sacrifice?"
If he wanted to confuse Snape, he certainly managed it well. "What would that mean?"
"If I understand your way of occluding," – the Headmaster began, and Severus grimaced on his fake modesty – "then your special gift is to masterfully divert existing memories to conjure misinterpretations upon half-truths… Exactly the reason why I am giving up on the habit of examining your mind. I have enough to confuse myself without your expert help; I thank you. However, it is normal for Tom to believe himself infallible. He did indeed search and enhance the boundaries of magic. I am sure your congenital interest would find his tutoring most interesting. Honestly, I much less believe it would benefit you."
"Are you offering your own wisdom instead of his, knowing he sent me back with the expressed wish to gather what you know?"
Dumbledore chuckled, giving the impression he was more in discussion with Tom Riddle, and refusing his advances now, than talking to Snape. It was a disconcerting thought, but the Headmaster quickly went on.
"Believe it or not, I am convinced that you need no private tutoring after you proved yourself able to change the course of your magic. We… I call it a trap of training. I explain. We prepare and train our youngsters to channel their magic. For this, we teach them to use their wands. As you are not foreign to the art of spell-invention, yes, I gathered as much along the years… I'm sure you know as well as I do, that given a purpose, the wand-moves are only to advance the level of concentration. Chants, curses, hexes, jinxes… the words deliver by binding the intention, the design to something more material… something safer. We educate for safety."
"Tom, me, some more like my friend Nicholas, and even you have left this safety behind. The young witches and wizards who leave this school are prepared for an average, though fruitful life in our world. Some of them tempt the boundaries we teach them. Most of those die or become injured at some point in their lives. Those are the talented. You have already exceeded that point, and Voldemort, Tom, knows this now. He has to decide whether you're an ally or a threat. What you are after is to free yourself from the bindings we taught you to respect. That makes all ambivalent and uncodified magic dark. No one needs to know that I understand this difference" – his eyes twinkled – "but at this point, neither Tom nor I can be sure how you will apply the knowledge once you understand what you possess."
A long heavy silence descended on the room under which Severus did not feel any ego boost for exceeding expectations for maybe the first time. He felt strangely calm and felt an eagerness to re-experience the solitude of the forest. He felt there like himself… like he had never felt his true self before. But words failed their purpose whenever it came to describe those days. Finally, he looked up at Dumbledore, who patiently waited for him to form his thoughts.
"I should thank you for giving words to an experience I only compared with inner feelings and nameless states of mind."
"This is a long and hard journey, Severus, and I am not sure if you have the time to walk it all the way. Maybe none of us have. I don't even know if it's possible. Would you look upon my words like a late last lesson from an old professor of yours?"
There were no other answers than a respectful nod, and the Headmaster smiled his paternally smile.
"What I would like to give you are only three small facts, and after those, I will take your tutoring finished on my part. First, it is as sure as that the sun will rise, that Tom is going to teach you. If not for your benefit, which you don't expect of him, I dare to presume, than to learn what you know already. He will find this crucial. The second, he will teach you wandless magic. As interesting and ground-breaking as it might seem, it is older and better researched than you could imagine. Our history begins with no wands – but I believe Sage Moody can explain this better than I ever could. And finally, Tom will never ever teach you what he, I believe, finds the ultimate dark magic. If once you would tempt fate, you will ask him about mortality. I would never suggest you do so," – Dumbledore looked at him warningly above his glasses – "but if it happens, and you live another day, you did me a favour if you told me his reply."
"Mortality itself is something I never thought to challenge," Severus answered honestly. "I could not work for your benefit for a day if I didn't accept death as inevitable."
Dumbledore eyed him thoughtfully for long moments, and he looked older and more forlorn than Snape had ever seen him before.
"This will be a surprise for you, Severus, but if that's so then, you are very lucky indeed." – The Headmaster silently said and thanked for the breakfast and company.
Severus closed the door behind his guest without any remorse for him leaving and began to prepare for a silent and satisfactory day of research in his lab. However, even before he set to start, he felt his concentration lacking. Dumbledore might have left, but his words echoed even in his absence.
His parting words were no more disturbing than the rest he had to say, but it was easier to grab those last words. Lucky? Heavens, he never felt he was… Whatever the old wizard thought about talking about mortality, Severus knew he didn't fully comprehend his meaning. The Dark Lord possibly would; Severus had already tried to piece together his way of returning to life. It was no resurrection because he obviously was never really dead.
Severus Snape had way more than enough experience with death to fully understand the difference. His parents, his friends… friend. Even his victims died for good. There were no lingering shadows, dark, whispering entities, forces of remaining will on this earth, NO. They were gone, irrevocably, and actually, Severus liked it better that way. Unlike Voldemort, whose lingering shadow had poisoned the meagre peace of these last thirteen years or so.
He never lied to the Dark Lord directly. He was always sure that Voldemort would return, and he prepared for the day. It is also true that on some of his better days he hoped that the Dark Lord's return would happen after his own life ran its course, but he never thought for a second that it could be avoided. He never knew how Voldemort cheated death, but Albus must have known, he now decided. At least he must have an idea about the method. Maybe he also researched it… but Severus felt the dangers keenly and preferred to avoid entering that debate.
Instead of lighting a fire under his cauldron, he contented himself tidying his lab. He cleaned all the phials, droppers, stirring rods and bottles while his thoughts ran through Dumbledore's words. It was nice to have educated words for what he labelled as "trusting in magic itself," although he found it ironic that a bird could teach about magic as much and more as the two most powerful wizards living upon this earth.
If he had a rare talent, it was to question and to listen, but unrequested the image of that Lily-faced creature also entered his mind. She promised him freedom from his bindings, and such was Albus's words. Severus already had decided against holding up his end of the bargain. Loving again seemed impossible, so why would the bindings keep disappearing?
Wandless magic? He wondered how it differed from unsupported flight. He used no wand there either. And if Sage Moody knew so much about its historical roots, could she do it herself? Severus decided she could not be better than him. He put his wand on his workbench and stepped back to call it. Nothing happened.
If Dumbledore was so sure about the Dark Lord being ready to teach him, why did he joke about his loss of tutoring? Did the old wizard believe he would refuse to learn just because the magic was labelled "dark"? Surely not, Dumbledore knew him much better than that. He even hinted he also understood not everything was dark that was labelled dark. And most probably vice versa.
His thoughts returned to his wand. It all began to work when he trusted the flow of his own magic. When he let himself believe in the endless opportunities, it presented. "Accio wand" – the silent words made the wand fly into his hand, but this was not enough. Yes, this magic was wandless, but not voiceless. Words are only to bind the purpose to this world, to something we know is safe. He looked around and chose a clean vial. How should he call it without using the word "Accio"? Nonverbal magic. But it felt like cheating because nonverbals used the incantations, save that they did not pronounce the words; it imagined the words without uttering them: a higher focus and awareness, but the same bindings.
Severus evoked the familiar feeling of trust and let the flow of his magic run wild in his veins. He called the vial without thinking of anything but the call itself. All the vials on his bench began to shake. He focused on the one he chose, and just before he was sure it will move to his hand, all the vials broke into dust of glass. Severus pulled his lips in a narrow line that McGonagall would have envied and cast Reparo with his wand.
"At least something happened." He tried to silence his annoyance.
With a sudden decision, he rushed up to the library and attacked the restricted section's shelves. Most of the books he already read here, more than one, multiple times. There were even passages he knew by heart. But he dug through them all again; it took a bit more than a week. He focused on the oldest tomes and wormed his way through every chapter concerning mortality, wandless magic or the origins of wand-use. Eventually, he learned a lot and understood more than before; however, he felt no real practical progress.
On the sixth day after he buried himself in Madam Pince's sanctum, he received Knott's owl. Apparently, the gathering to "let out the steam" was imminent. The date suspiciously preceded the Order moving Potter with only a day.
Knott and Avery were to organize, and Knott promised a hell of a reminder of the "good old days". The next twenty-four lines after the short invitation consisted of the list of those potions the organizers deemed necessary to achieve the required state of mind for such endeavour.
Snape was close to blasting his room to pieces. All this brewing just when he found a hidden shelf in an alcove of the Restricted Area! Not even to mention that only to gather and purchase all the ingredients would eat up the whole and a half of his monthly salary.
He already sat down to tell Knott via the same owl that he needed no potions, for he was obviously out of his mind already, when the Malfoys' two bulky owls navigated through his open study door, carrying a large package.
Seven different types of adequate mushrooms, hyphomycetes, and mucous from three reptilian species lay inside, tightly packed between layers of tissue-paper—the rarest and most expensive of all the delivery, a phial of vampire-blood. Snape whistled as he unpacked it, sure the party was planned more luxuriously than what he gave Knott credit for.
Considering the quality of the supplies, brewing suddenly felt more alluring. He hasn't made most of these potions for about fifteen years, but more than one of them used to be a routine in his hands. Now he tested his memory every time before he lit up another cauldron and made a sport of having multiple concoctions boiling simultaneously.
Generally, Severus Snape finally had FUN like he had not for a long time. Although being fifteen years older than last time he made these poisons, he opened the doors before the steam filled the lab. He always liked the "additional benefits" of this job, but now he was also invested in another research.
Even with the vampire blood needing special care, Severus was ready to return to the library – and to the alcove, which unfortunately proved to be a disappointment – for another two days before he closed up his quarters in Hogwarts. With his brews carefully packed, he walked down to the gates to Apparate to London. He wanted to make sure Potter's move would be undisturbed, so whatever the others planned, he prepared to engage their attention in his own way. The package had ample psychotropic substances to achieve this goal, now he only had to take a turn and purchase Lucius' favourite mead, one propped up with retarder potion from a half-forgotten shop at Knockturn Ally.
Having now all he needed, Severus emerged from the Leaky Cauldron after transfiguring his robes into average muggle attire, jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, and he disappeared in the crowd of busy Muggles within two steps along the streets.
The Malfoy residence was in the oldest part of town, a well-kept area behind the Park. Posh to no end for a boy from the outskirts of Cokeworth, to say the least, with its John Nash style entrance and view, the double stairs and carriage drive before the front door. But Severus knew it was hardly a thing compared to the old Manor, just a "comfortable townhome," as Narcissa liked to call it.
Mounting the stairs, he briefly wondered if Cissy's escapades to Cokeworth were not partly for the sake of adventure, but at the end of the day, it was all the same. Also, he'd better not ruminate upon his hostess's more adventurous side while knocking on her husband's door.
The actual knocking was not necessary for the door opened up for him as soon as his foot touched the top of the stairs, and a house elf bowed to him.
"My master will be pleased you finally arrived, Master Snape."
He was led to a small dressing room right from the main entrance to comfortably transfigure his muggle clothing back to his now more adequate robe before he progressed to the parlour where Narcissa Malfoy already entertained three of her guests. Severus courteously leaned over her elegantly outstretched hand to kiss the air above it.
"I am so glad you could make it," –she greeted him with a gorgeous smile – "Lucius would have been inconsolable if you had to stay away." She turned to her other guests with an air of lightness. "It must be such an encumbrance to keep up appearances at Hogwarts, Severus, and even in the summer!" When Severus didn't encourage her façade of nonsense with an answer, she quickly changed direction. "Well, I guess it is necessary… Do you remember our friend Dupont? He just recently arrived from Auvergne, and dear Nott brought us his cousin, Tomas Morvel, from Normandie. Have you met already?"
"Not yet,"- Severus extended his right hand and greeted Morvel, then all the others, now from a distance.
He already knew Alexis Dupont, the man was born the same year as Lucius, and their friendship had bloomed under the Dark Lord's reign. Everyone knew in school about Nott's well-established pure-blooded relatives in Normandie, and Morvel looked about the same age as him. All those years ago, he was close to an introduction before he had to leave one of those parties and attend to his mother.
"We are expecting other old friends before dinner. Can you join Lucius on later for the outing?" – Cissy asked and offered tea. Severus was afraid the "outing" was attacking Potter, so he agreed to join to have a hand in the situation.
"Does it mean you left your hard feeling behind?" – Nott asked point-blank – "Last time you frightened Avery out of his boots."
"He made me change plans to be sure, a clash of views among friends. It makes us all stronger, eventually," Severus deemed.
"Hopefully he believes the same. He's busy in Kent now, living down his errors," – Nott laughed. "Hey, Tomas, you have to hear this. Severus here stepped up recently as some twisted angel of vengeance trying to clear our rows of stupidity…"
"A highly commendable role" – Morvel gestured to him with his teacup in hand. "We all have to get back on track. Too bad this last decade's business was so dull."
"I'm sure Lucius had something similar in his cunning mind when he called us all here." Dupont added.
"What did I have in mind?" – The host entered with his son on his heels. "Watch out with these highly respected gentlemen, Draco. They seem honourable, and they will talk you into anything you'd never foreseen you would ever do or believe." – He joked. "Ah, Snape, glad you could make it. Did you manage to…?"
"Yes, the delivery was unexceptional, I thank you." – Severus assured him about the potions.
"Good, good…"
Time flew with chatter, politics and an occasional demand on Severus to praise Draco's talents in front of the friends of the family. He otherwise kept a low profile.
Shortly before dinner, the hearth's flames ignited, and the Roux siblings arrived. Severus started to feel shabby in his everyday robe. The Roux were considered the leaders of the covens about Paris and thus for half-France. The greetings were yet to subside when Crabbe Apparated to the entrance, and with another flare of green flames, Goyle arrived shortly after him.
When Martin Lefevre Apparated right to the parlour's door, a startled Cissy Malfoy joked they should have sent out portkeys with the invitations, and all laughed. "I am overjoyed and honoured all of you accepted my invitation and came tonight. Avery and Knott are justifiably kept away with business, but soon we will meet them. Nott, shall we await them, or can we eat?"
"I say lead us and feed us, Lucius. Jules never kept time in his life, and Luisa is probably barely awake yet" – Lefevre laughed – "I cannot be sure about Iris. She promised to come but complained about some difficulties with her living arrangements. Although Iris never came in the wrong time, now did she?" – This time, most joined in his laugh.
Severus was thankful when all stood, and they were soon herded to the dining room. This gave him time to order his thoughts about Iris's imminent presence. Did the Malfoys know her whereabouts? Did Nott?
The meal had six luxurious courses and matched the highest standards of a "light repast" to benefit the French allies. Old friends and heartless killers for the cause and their own enjoyment, all sharing in laughter and pomp, celebrating a longstanding friendship with the Malfoy house, and each other.
Severus could not help but sink into thoughtful silence, filing through his memories of his youth, and matching stories to everyone around the table. He had first met with Alexis Dupont after his sixth year, when he enjoyed a short invitation in the summer to the Nott country home. Lucius and Narcissa were already engaged, and Bellatrix made herself insufferable by grabbing every opportunity to mock them. She, of course, had her eyes only on the mysterious and handsome wizard with powers unmatched. Still, until she waited on Voldemort, she happily made a fool of Rosier and Rodolphus.
Even so many years ago, when Snape first met Dupont, he had seen him as a born leader already. Later, time proved his worth as a wizard too. Dupont's ability in magical duelling matched with those of Antonin Dolohov, the much older Russian follower, a personal favourite of the Dark Lord when it came to a job for an assassin. After a week, Severus had to return to his mother, not that he ever regretted spending her last days on earth together… True, he had missed the introduction to Tomas Morvel, but had heard about him enough. This guy fancied muggle trains and caused several accidents having his fun in the chaos.
A year later was the party Karkaroff organized at the edge of the world, but before they travelled there, Dupont had also surprised them with a graduation party. Martin Lefevre was there, Lennier's friend, and a bunch of Russian Death Eaters– the same age as Severus and Martin -, he knew those already deceased. By the course of the coming years, business or fun slowly introduced him to countless others, like the now awaited Jules Leroy, who was the same age as Regulus Black, and his girlfriend, slightly younger than Iris, Luisa Durand. There was a young boy too, the talk of everyone abroad, "the Bertrand-boy". Severus could never find out what made him so special. He knew Sasha Bertrand had wealthy pure-blooded relatives in France and Russia, but by the time they could have met, things had already changed.
No-one expected the Dark Lord's reign to grow as wild as it became. Parties ceased. Even Bella seemed reluctant to have fun during those times, not that her feelings mattered, Severus never could like her idea of a good joke. Then all of a sudden, it was all over. Sooner for him than for the others, when he realized how stupid he was and what he matched himself with. The earth seemed to stop turning as much as he was concerned. The others froze or fled when the Dark Lord vanished while he was paralyzed by his grief for his friend.
Now sitting here, with the cream of their merry youth, Severus realized for the first time how short their time together had been. Longer for Lucius and Alexis, but for him, only three years from his earliest adulthood. The first eighteen months of those years spent partying and trying to forget a girl he could never have and a life he could never live. The next year he was horrified, the last part in constant terror for Lily's life, and for his own if anyone got wind of his deal with the other side. Three years seemed so short compared to a lifetime, and still, here he was constantly making up for it, at his age of thirty-five, yet could not rid of the consequences.
Obviously, none of them could. Malfoy and Cissy were entertaining now like their parents used to. Both the Roux siblings wore their family insignia, something they would have found abhorrently old-fashioned the last time he saw them. Nott had lost his hair about his temples, and Dupont looked greyish… ridiculous. This guy used to be the epitome of a rebel, now look at him, dressed in understated, ageless elegance, with his father's signet ring on his left hand! Severus's lips pulled into a sardonic smile as he renamed this dinner an "old-boys' gathering". Maybe the Order had no fighter to exhibit at a proper age, but the infamous Death Eaters got brutalized by age and comfort too.
Dupont was still a keen observer, and seeing his smile, he prompted: "Get out with it, Snape, you hardly utter a word, what do you find so amusing?"
"I only mused about how time has changed you all" – he replied slowly, with a look on the signet ring. "As I recall, your father would be proud to see you wear that. There were times when none of your parents dared to hope for such sophistication, maybe the one exception in your case, Narcissa, of course."
For Draco's visible astonishment, his father was the first to laugh up hard.
"To the point, Snape, as always!" – Lucius even raised his wineglass to him. "Maybe later in the night, we can convince you that not all our youth has gone. What do you think, Morvel?"
"Just wait till Iris and Luisa arrive, they would convince a dead man he's in his prime, and their ways and temper have changed in no way as I heard."
All cheered, but the Rouxs looked hurt.
"Really, Nott, have you invited Sasha? That guy never got out of business, maybe Snape here will find him a more encouraging company?"
"No one got out of business with Polla Poultron around!" – Nott grinned. "Can you recall her, Tomas? I remember you visited with Lennie and Leroy, when was it? '78 or '79?"
"Must have been '78" – Morvel lamented – "that was a summer I'll remember! The time when Lenier met Iris in Alsace. She and her cousins were the talk of the lot."
"I'm sure Jules still has a lot to say" – Martin Lefevre chimed in – "A shame Lennie could not make it today."
"He's on an errand for the particular interest of the Dark Lord." Lucius explained. "Good for him!" – He raised his glass.
They toasted Lennier, and Severus drank without a second thought.
"Now, what is this thing with Jules? Or do you want me to wait till he turns up to tell?" – Lucius politely turned them all back to the story.
"I doubt we should wait for him to join us." Morvel grinned, eager to gossip. "You'd better tell the story, Martin, until you can!"
The blond, tall Martin Lefevre, with his skeleton-like face and fingers, put down the cutlery.
"Well, you all know Iris," – he began enjoying the undivided attention – "maybe more than Lennie would like it." He waited till the chuckles died away. "Up in Alsace, there are two old pure-blooded families, The Coquinnes and the Rasicals. They teach their daughters marvellous magic, and all of them know their potions, if you know what I mean…" Snickering assured him from around the table that everyone indeed knew. "Iris is a half-Poultron, with a father from a minor family in Lorraine, the Dubois. Her mother was of three Pultron girls, with a mother who was a Coquinne. The two fortunes' union didn't work out as the elders supposed, for mama Coquinne sacked her husband as soon as she conceived her girls. One of those is Polla Poultron, The other one gave us the magnificent Iris, and no one ever knew the third one's story. We only know that Polla is the last remaining of the three sisters. She brought up Iris, but neither I nor Morvel or Leroy knew that she had thus two younger cousins to share her knowledge and her most appreciated arts.
There were chuckles all along the table.
"After Lennier deprived us of the treasure of Iris's presence, we had Salbei and Mira to connect us to Polla, and I tell you, they had a way to garner and keep attention! Polla is well-versed in the dark arts, we learned a lot from her, and her nieces were ready to entertain whenever we needed to rest. Jules began to court Salbei, and we had fun like in the old times, even if these girls are less open-minded than our favourite cousin of theirs. After Mira died in an unfortunate accident, Salbei cursed Jules to next week. I wouldn't suggest anyone of you remain present when he unbuttons his robe. He still has the word "plague" written all-over his chest with mattery purple pustules and a smell like his heart was rotting… None of us could vanish it, not even Polla."
Most around the table laughed at their friend's misery, but Draco, who sat wide-eyed with mouth agape and Narcissa, who pulled her nose with disgust.
Severus laughed as he had to, but his mind was in turmoil. He recently heard most of these names. Polla as "Aunt Polla" and Salbei, whom he was supposed to call "Sage," and trust with his cover and life. Would it be possible that the third Poultron sister got lost marrying an English wizard, an Auror, Mad-Eye Moody? If his daughter's aunt was the same dark witch Lefevre was talking about, no wonder the ex-Auror was beside himself. And would the witch with that enticing mind be the one to initiate such a spell? Was he misled so thoroughly? He saw darkness, dark magic, Death Eatersand gut-wrenching hatred in her mind, but would she, with that scented, humming mind, connect herself in such a way to a Death Eater, no less than Jules Leroy? A follower at heart all along the years? Did Dumbledore know? Did her father know? How could they trust her, hire her for Hogwarts, trust her with crucial information about the Order, and deliver him defenceless to her, through Iris?
Also, who was this Mira? How did she die? Severus believed in no unfortunate accidents involving a dark witch, her dubious niece, and three Death Eaters. If somebody died with those people around, that was anything but an accident! Now he felt like a fool for not examining the witch's mind to the fullest. Everything he filed through there felt only a meaningless glimpse. How hard she must have laughed when he pulled out of her mind and had the nerve to look shaken and honest!
Tomas Morvel took the word from his friend before Severus could finish his disappointed laments.
"Polla is a lovely brute." – He told them. "No wonder her nieces are so wonderful. When the Muggle government decided to build a road through her estate, she blew it all to pieces, cursing the whole area so hard no one could ever come near again. And what do you think she told the Ministry's investigators? That it was a cauldron accident!" – He laughed "The most giant cauldron explosion in history indeed, if it wiped out seven Muggle road-workers, tearing all their machines and vehicles to pieces and evaporate even the remains of a half-built road!"
"We should make sure of her alliance. What do you think, Jamie?" – Lucius jumped on the word, but the Roux brother shook his head.
"I wish! But she cares about nothing else, only her dear old Alsace. She wouldn't even step out. Maybe that's why the Ministry is so powerless against her. That part of the country always belonged to the Coquinnes, just like Lorrain to the Rasicals. Old habits die hard, and this is tradition."
"Maybe her nieces." – Nott offered. "We could use more like Iris." – He added with a wink.
"That's an entirely different matter." – Jamie admitted. "Mira was a Rasical. A strong pure-blood witch from a strong, longstanding pure-blood family. Her death didn't help our cause. It gave a bad precedent to the argument against us. As much as I understand Jules Leroy personally, I cannot agree with what he's done on a political level. We also cannot blame him; it was an accident, but he estranged the family, and it was a mistake."
In the pause, Severus could not contain his curiosity any longer. "Is the accident his fault then? We should not fight against each other…"
"Says the avenger, who broke Avery's bones." – Nott muttered.
"I did not kill him." Severus pointed out, turning to him, but Janine Roux was uninterested in their minor disaccord.
"I agree with you." – She called for Severus' attention. "However it was truly an accident. I was there before the Aurors arrived. Polla wanted to adhere to tradition and invited me as an uninterested outside witness from another coven. The investigation was clean and just. Mira Rasical voluntarily ran into a Muggle building through the back door while Leroy blasted it, standing on the street. He could not possibly see her. None of us can approve of Salbei's self-righteousness, but she already left the country, and she did well to do so."
Narcissa used the short pause in the chatter to gesture to the house elf, and the next moment the table changed for desserts. However, her kind words of offering were cut short by a loud pop, signing a new arrival.
"That must be Bertrand," – announced Nott. "Just as he promised." Lefevre nodded happily at his statement, but most were busy with the discussion at the other end of the table.
"I wouldn't mind her being spirited," – Lucius answered to Janine Roux, implying Salbei, the third cousin from the tale – if her talent served our cause." He was obviously after recruiting. Severus began to suspect that probably this whole affair was about that. "Would you punish her if you met?"
"We are not on French terrain" – Janine smiled. "You should talk with Leroy, though,"- she warned, raising her wineglass to her lips before she turned to the door. "Sasha!" – She cried out with so much enthusiasm to Bertrand that he almost kissed her hand before Narcissa's. Severus lifted an eyebrow, but she didn't seem to mind it more than Lucius, who greeted his friend with the most amiable words.
"Hello, you all," – Bertrand greeted the room as one after he fought his way through the unnecessary formalities and finally had a seat. "What did I miss?"
"If you mean besides the marvellous dinner and the wonderful hospitality," – Morvel raised a glass and gave a toast with it to Narcissa. More than one wizard joined his move – "I guess it was the praise of Polla Poultron, basically."
"An inexhaustible subject!" Bertrand laughed with the ease of a man of the world and joined the conversation as quickly as he could. "I hope you left something for me… Her blasting up the main road? Covered? Oh, shame! What about her love-potions? Exotic poisons? Her exhibition of dark artifacts in the south parlour? Maybe her lovers?"
"Her nieces." – Lefevre interjected.
"Oh, her deadliest creations!" – Sasha laughed. After this, he had to answer several questions about everything he mentioned. The company was deep in conversation by the time the frequently mentioned Jules Leroy joined them, with Luisa Durand Flooing in on his heels.
It was hard to believe their arrival matched only by chance and while the partyers filed back to the parlour, most mocked them, and by addition the Malfoys, about the "good old times". Back then, they were the two dream-couples, the talk of society, but while the Malfoy-marriage seemed to be made in Heaven, Luisa never agreed to become a Leroy.
With this turn in the conversation, Lucius sent his son upstairs to his rooms, and his mother excused herself to join him. Draco was understandably reluctant to leave, and his stubbornness paid off tremendously when the flames in the heart ignited green again. The one and only Iris Dubois stepped through in her blond, marble-skinned, black-laced reality. Her lips were shining in an improbable shade of rose, and her rounded shoulders flashed out from under her hanged-down hair.
She carried her gaze through all her gathered friends, and her bright eyes, dilating with untamed wantonness, halted on the most appreciative face of all. Severus had to swallow a chuckle seeing Draco's mouth fell agape, and face losing colour when Lucius hastened to send the boy on his way.
Strangely Iris did not affect him now like the way before. Maybe the reason was he saw her dealings through Sage Moody's eyes. Although, that was also an issue he'd better push to the unvisited depths of his conscious thoughts to revisit only when it was completely safe – if ever.
Meanwhile, with a conspiratorial nod towards some of his friends, Lucius lifted a brick from one of the shelves with his wand's elegant move and called for attention.
"Dear ladies and gentlemen! Now that we all gathered, it's time to begin." The brick landed on a coffee table close to the heart, and all gathered around it. "To celebrate our common past… and to renew our friendship… we organized a little reminder of what we may enjoy together. Please, step closer!"
Fourteen people stepped close to the coffee table, and on the count of three, they touched the brick. All of them knew better than to show weakness by asking where the portkey would take them.