A/N: AU. I am a huge fan of the US version of House of Cards. As a former resident of DC, and someone who worked in a very political sphere for a while, it spoke to the things I saw and felt walking the marble halls of the capital. Nothing was ever truly as it seemed. So, I found myself unable to resist this Francis Underwood quote, and I was instantly inspired, which never hurts.
Proximity to power is useful, if you know how to use it. It probably is one of the most complicated issues that Rowling sort of, but not satisfactorily, addresses in her books. The idea of using someone for what they can give you; or worse yet, to prey on someone's guilt over mistakes made in order to manipulate that person. While I don't consider myself a "Snape apologist", I do see that his character arc is extremely complex, as is Dumbledore's. I believe it is poetic justice that their lives, and deaths, are intertwined; but it by no means begins to address the evils they have done, alone or together.
This quote has inspired me to play around with the convoluted dynamics that Snape must have had to maneuver while playing his duel roles, and being so close to power. This scenario is not alluded to in any way in the books, and therefore should be considered AU. I do imagine this happening somewhere in year six.
Round #: 3
Wizarding World News- Writing School
School: Ilvermorny
Year: 6
Prompt: "Power is a lot like real estate. It's all about location, location, location. The closer you are to the source, the higher your property value." - House of Cards
Theme: Writing School - Dialogue
Story Title: Closer
Word Count: 863
Closer
Flamboyance was for the weak—for the powerless. Giant chandeliers and high-gloss marble floors, trumpet vases filled with rare orchids and cut-crystal glassware, endless drapes of velvet strewn across windows and women; none it conveyed what Lucius really wanted.
Power.
Power came from the head of the table. And those who sit nearest the head.
Never was that more true than now, particularly since Malfoy Manor had become the defacto headquarters of the Dark Lord. Ironically, the Malfoy patriarch still lacked that which he most desired; and it showed. Disheveled. Beaten. Imprisoned. Lucuis Malfoy wasn't a partner, he was a patsy. Someone to be thrown to the Ministry, to distract from the true objective.
And so he sat at the end of the table. Ignored. Disrespected. Scorned. The only sense one might have of his resentment was the cold fire that burned in his eyes. You could feel it searing the back of your head, if you were paying attention.
Severus Snape, on the other hand, sat just off the head of the table. The right hand of the Father, as it were. He knew where the power lied, and how it conveyed by proximity.
He had never been in more danger, or more in thrall.
Their history had been a rocky one; uneven. Lucius had everything that Severus envied, at first. The lifestyle, the respect—the power. What I confused for power, at any rate. It soon became clear, however, that power—true power—was something more.
It hadn't anything to do with money or objects. It had to do with talent, and fear. And being close to that fear.
"Funny how things work out," Lucius snarled from a dark alcove near the grand staircase. He had shuffled off immediately after the meeting had broken up. It wasn't unusual. What was, was that Severus had stayed behind rather than immediately returning to his post. He was lost in thought, pacing the foyer when he was shocked back to reality by Lucius' snide remark.
"You. Why you?" the elder Malfoy grumbled.
Severus took a quick look around before he stepped into the deeper shadow of the well beneath the spiral of the stair. He didn't want to be seen in his company, but their history together demanded some loyalty.
"You know why," he whispered, motioning for Lucius to recede with him into the pooling gloom. "I'm useful. You should try it."
Lucius threw his head back and laughed, but Severus was on him in a heartbeat—his hand over his mouth, pressing down tight.
"Fool!" he hissed. His hand clamped down even tighter, and he looked deep into his friend's eyes as they widened in alarm. He felt the thought pulse through his taught arms. Should he kill him? Should he just put him out of his misery? Why not? Because we're friends? Are we friends? Were we ever? Or was I just a useful idiot?
His hand released, and Lucius gasped in air like a man saved from drowning.
"I loved you once." Severus sighed. He'd wanted to avoid having to say it aloud. "I would've done anything—anything—to have had what you did."
Even in shadow, Lucius' scorn was evident on his face. "Someone like you must've done something indeed to have climbed so high." Even now he couldn't hide his disdain. "And now you sit at the head of the table, sneering down at the rest of us."
"If you insist on seeing it thus, so be it." Severus turned to leave but the man grabbed on to him as if he were a life-preserver. All pretence at arrogance was gone now; his eyes only showed desperation.
"Please," he begged, "don't make me—"
"What, Lucius? Make you what? Beg? Beg for the lives of your family?" Severus gathered up his cloak, making especial effort to snatch back the fabric Lucius still clung to. "Or did you mean for yourself alone?" He could no longer hide his disgust. "How could I do more for you? I've only offered up my life? Or have you forgotten?"
Lucius had the grace to look ashamed, but it was too late for that.
"Do you love your son?" It was a rhetorical question, Severus knew, but he couldn't help himself. He needed Lucius to understand. "I protect you, by protecting me. It is the best I can offer to Draco."
"And me?" Only Lucius would have the gall to ask.
"You are expandable. But I'm sure you already know that. My obligation is to your family now; and I can only do what I must for them by maintaining my position of trust." And power.
Severus took a moment to dab the sweat from his face and straighten his robes. It didn't pay to look nervous around the Dark Lord. Or that sniveling sycophant Bellatrix. "Do us both a favor, Lucius, and don't approach me again. Ever. It does you no good, and it puts my standing in jeopardy. "
He passed out the shadows and back out into the manor before making his way outside. There was no relief in having had his say with Lucius. Only regret. Only sadness.
Severus never once looked back. There was nothing there to see.