Chapter Five – A Meeting of Old Friends
Wilfred walked smartly up the entrance path to his parents' homestead at the Farm, with his bottle of Chateau Cos d'Estournel, 1986, tucked gently but securely under his arm. He knew this quality red wine from Bordeaux would complement his mother's meat course no matter what she had decided to prepare.
Before he could reach for the bell, the door was opened to him by a small house elf, impeccably dressed as a butler. Well, but for the bare feet, at least.
"Good evening, sir," said his greeter, with a slight bow.
"Evening, Jenkins," replied Wilfred with grave dignity, winning his battle with the terrible laugh up his nose that he always fought when dealing with Jenkins. Decades earlier, Jenkins had become fascinated with the concept of the "butler", as the perfect domestic. Over the years he had acquired every English book of fact or fiction, and more recently, every movie, video, or television recording that could possibly enhance his studies. As his acquaintance grew his style had refined such that Jenkins had now attained absolute perfection in the art of butlering, circa 1939. Wilfred did not have the heart to tell him that current butlers were as much bodyguards as domestics, but let him enjoy his role.
"Here you are," Wilfred said, having set the Bordeaux down on a side table to remove and hand Jenkins his cloak, hat, gloves, and walking stick. Jenkins seemed overjoyed, beneath his dignified expression. Truth be told, Wilfred only brought the hat, gloves, and stick to fulfill Jenkins' hopes. When he had arrived at times carrying nothing, the little elf was visibly disappointed at having nothing to 'help the young master off' with. While the elf had nearly mastered his facial expressions, he'd never quite gotten total control over his ears. The ear tips were a dead giveaway, drooping discernibly when the little butler was disappointed or hurt.
Jenkins handed the belongings joyfully off to a house elf footman standing discretely aside in the foyer, and led the way for the 'young master', as Jenkins still thought of Wilfred, to join his parents and their guests on the patio behind the sitting room. As the rounded the last corner and Jenkins opened the glass door to the patio, Wilfred was surprised and pleased to see that he and Draden were not the only guests for the evening.
"Well, hail and well met, brethren!" Wilfred exclaimed, as everyone rose to greet him and he beheld not only his family and Draden, but Severus Snape as well. "This is a surprise, but what a pleasure!" as smiles and handshakes were exchanged all round, with hug and double kisses with his mother.
"A totally beguiling new frock, Mother. And this is for dinner," Wilfred said, handing the wine to his mother, and spinning her in a gentle pirouette to model the full skirts of her new dress.
"Oh how lovely," said she, examining the label and showing it to Jason, her husband. "This will be wonderful with the lamb." She gently passed the bottle to the quiet Jenkins, knowing it would be properly chilled to cellar temperature by the time the meal was served.
"I thought I'd be seeing you soon at the shop, Severus," Wilfred said, turning towards the potions master, as he eased over to a most comfortable patio chair. "Thought you'd be stocking up for the coming year and dropping off your ingredient list so I can be sure to have our stock up to date for the madding crowds." He collapsed into the comfortable armchair and enjoyed the cool shade of the covered porch looking out on a formal garden that rivaled the best in the kingdom.
Noticing Jenkins hovering discretely, he said, "Just a lemonade for now, if you please, Jenkins."
"So to what do I owe the pleasure? Not that it's not truly always a pleasure to get together with two of my best friends any time we can," and he smiled warmly at his two Hogwarts classmates, reflecting on their unique bonds and fellowship across the years.
While they had been contemporaries of the so-called "Marauders", they had not been friends with that foursome. If anything, the bond among Dreden, Severus, and Wilfred was forged by their mutual enmity with that group. He looked at Severus, with his pale clear complexion and raven black shining hair, often called 'greasy', but actually just thickened with the unmistakable sheen and associated with close contact with arsenic in his early years. Snape sat in casual gray summer robes sipping a fruit drink, doubtless wincing at some of the memories always conjured from these meetings.
Draden, on the other hand, seemed not to have aged much. He sat smiling in his brightly colored lightweight robes, shaking his head at his friends. He seemed cheerfully oblivious to his thinning hair, receding hairline, and the increasing strength of his eyeglass prescription. While nature seemed determined to age the man, he was quite unwilling to acknowledge her progress in the least.
These three were, without a doubt, the most brilliant potions experts to tread the halls of Hogwarts since Dumbledore himself. And that was saying quite a lot. And, mirabile dictu, very few realized the power of that. Almost none realized that Draden was so expert. He worked in the Ministry of Magical Creatures as a mid-level administrator, tracking, scheduling, and supervising the exploration and care of dangerous life forms in which the Ministry took an interest. Charlie Weasley was one of his newest staff acquisitions, and seemed to be settling in nicely. Few, even on the Hogwarts staff, recalled that he took an O level in Potions and excelled on his NEWTS. Snape's outspoken mastery, and the taunting that drew attention to his activities, combined with the quiet over competence of their contemporary, Muggworth, managed to mask his achievements in most people's minds quite effectively. At the time, it was a bit vexing but 'no big deal' as the young people say nowadays, since Draden's real passion was dangerous creatures, and he was unrivaled in his reputation for excellence there. Even botany and herbology were of interest, when they ventured into the dangerous.
They had each been the butt of various Marauder pranks and jokes. Each had been more than somewhat a 'loner'. It was inevitable, as they grew in skill and animosity towards the marauding foursome, that they would draw together as friends and share their skills for a bit of revenge from time to time. Upon later reflection there were moments when they regretted some of these acts, especially now with stirrings of the Dark Lord's presence seeming to surface by degrees, and their unwavering determination to aid the cause of the Phoenix movement. But they didn't regret them very much, nor very often.
"So what say, Snap? Been brewing any fame, or bottling much glory lately?" Draden quipped. Snap was Severus' nickname from school days, just among themselves, so dubbed for his sarcastic wit and ability to retort at the speed of light. Even as a boy Severus had no patience with the dull-witted, and his tongue often overran his good judgment in groups. He soon learned to avoid groups.
"Shut up, Dread," Snape answered, smiling, "you're only jealous of my first year opening speech."
"Jealous? Of what? I wrote that speech, and you copped it!" Draden laughed.
"Bollux!", exclaimed Snape.
"Wait a minute! Wait a minute! We ALL contributed to that speech, thank you very much! It was in the Potions Lab, that afternoon we did Potter in for the 40 point day. You must admit, it was one of our greatest triumphs. But you," pointing to Dread, "said you wanted to brew fame. You, Snape, wanted to bottle glory. I," as he looked down and hesitated for a moment, "said I wanted to put a stopper in death," as an uncomfortable silence descended on the room for a moment.
"Anyway, we've ALL contributed to your little speech, and I think it scans quite well. But the potion we brewed that day..." his eyes twinkled as they all smiled remembering the prank... "that was as good a bit of mayhem as we ever pulled."
His father, Jason, cleared his throat dramatically, and put on his best paternal accent, saying, "gentlemen, I think you had best come across with the story. I've never heard of this little escapade."
"Oh, er... Well, Father. It really wasn't that much..."
"Now now, no backing out now, one of you had better tell us what happened," as he and his wife Katrina sat back smiling, to enjoy a moment of humor at their son's expense.
These three grown men, dignified experts in their fields renowned the world over, suddenly found themselves stammering and rapidly trying to apply damage control. It was as if they were magically transported back to a time of short academic robes and proctors, explaining themselves in front of a professor. Quite automatically, both Severus and Wilfred found themselves staring at Douglas Draden to make the explanations. His nickname "Dread" came from the fact that when revenge was called for, he was generally the one with the most foul and useful ideas.
"Well, sir, we had some differences of, er... viewpoint and opinion with a group of classmates, and each of us had suffered greatly from the verbal abuse of one of the boys, Potter, James Potter," Draden began.
"Potter? Wasn't he the one? Isn't the boy Potter his son?" asked Katrina, putting pieces together in her mind. "I've seen in The Daily Prophet that he started at Hogwarts, last year, didn't he?"
Snape visibly winced, "Yes, Katrina, he did. The 'Boy Who Lived', an instant celebrity among the Gryffindors and most of the children there. Just like his father, all attitude."
"Anyway, as I was saying," Draden continued, glaring at Snape, "we decided the Potter's mouth could use an overhaul. So we planned a Saturday afternoon in the Potions Lab, when all the rest of Hogwarts were out watching a critical Quidditch match. We had less than no interest in Quidditch, and these were the best opportunities for the us to commandeer the supplies and equipment we needed to work on some projects they we to complete.
"That long ago afternoon, we synthesized a vocal reversing potion, "Contravocem", to use on Potter. As you know, when swallowed in small amounts causes the victim to hear and manage the volume of their voice in reverse. So when the speaker meant to and thought they were whispering, they would shout. And when they were trying to be heard, their voice would fall away perhaps to nothing."
"Boys!" Katrina gasped, in a mocking shocked voice. "I am surprised at you all! I cannot believe that you would use your skills to intentionally poison one of your classmates."
"But we did not, fair lady," Draden continued, hand on his heart with a look of the most abject innocence on his face. "Oh no, what happened was simple justice, both poetic and otherwise. We contrived to acquire a peach from the kitchens. It was huge, juicy, totally gorgeous. We filled it with our potion, and at breakfast Monday morning Severus kept it alongside his place. When we all finished eating, and had that bit of time to study before first class, Severus worked intensely on drawing this peach, as though for herbology class.
"We watched Potter and his other friends noticing Snape's activity, and plotting how to ruin his assignment. We just waited, trying to pay no attention, knowing that if we did not give the show away one of them were certain to fall for the bait. There was really never a question of 'whether'. The only question was 'how long?'.
"And who!" laughed Severus, thinking back on that morning. "You could almost smell the bubbling cauldrons, as they pondered what to do."
"One moment," interrupted Jason, "this peach in question, wouldn't happen to have been..."
"Yes, Father," Wilfred hung his head in mock shame, "one of your prize winning Cassandra Special peaches. "But!" he added looking up brightly, pointing his finger upright to emphasize his next words, "bear in mind it was only because we needed the very best bait we could possibly have for this plan. We ate and enjoyed the rest. Honestly!"
"Pfft!" Jason muttered, almost sotto voce. But still he smiled as he sat back to listen.
"If I may continue..." Draden glared at Severus and Wilfred for the interruptions, "it was finally Potter who sauntered over, looking over Severus' shoulder for a moment as he seemed to be working intently, and said...
"Well, Snivellis... what an excellent drawing. Wonderful peach you're drawing there... looks good enough to eat! I can't resist..." and he reached across, grabbed the peach and took a huge bite from it.
We all started to protest and look affronted, as he gobbled about six more chunks from it, dribbling juice from his chin.
"All right, all right... THERE, I'll give it back," he said, flopping the remaining chunk and pit back onto the table as he walked back to his seat laughing and wiping his face with his sleeve. He and his friends were laughing like lunatics and pointing at us as we packed up our things and exited in a state of high dudgeon. We had to get out in a hurry, before we lost it. We barely got outside out of earshot before we broke up in hysterics.
"Now, kind sir and lady... I leave it to you. I submit that we did NOTHING to Potter. Whatever happened, he did to himself," and so saying Draden looked at Wilfred and Severus' nodding smiles, sat back in his seat and took a long pull on his cool drink.
"I... see... Well, yes. I take your point," Jason replied, as a hint of a smile played across his face. "And what was the result of this little 'breakfast'?"
"That was the best part, Father," Wilfred could not help but interject. "Every time Potter tried to make one of his snide little comments about the professors in class, his voice would boom across the room. Sirius and Remus were trying to crawl under their desks. When the professors would confront Potter, with the predictable.. 'I beg your pardon, what did you say?'... Potter's voice would drop to a mumble. It was classic! Gryffindor lost 40 points that day in only 4 class periods."
All three of the houseguests dissolved in uncontrollable laughter as they remembered. Were a "high five" a wizard custom, it would have been done right there and then.
They had just brought themselves back under control when Jenkins stepped in to announce, in his most dignified tones, "Dinner... is served." The three of them looked at one another and exploded in laughter again. It was quite hopeless. Together they limped into the dining room.