The next three days passed without great incident, unless you counted the returning of the third-years' Potions essays on Monday morning, three of which did effectively not reach their owners - just yet.
Severus had spent all week trying to imagine what McGonagall would do to Potter and his friends once she found them, but he suspected that, in reality, she would consider their 'intention' a good one, as usual, and let them off with a mere detention again.
Severus's own essay had earned him this term's second A and he had the distinct impression that grades, however justified they might seem to the individual, largely depended on who was correcting the essays and what their relation to one's parents was.
Lucius was in an exceptionally high-spirited mood these days, Severus found, although he had, as yet, not fulfilled his promise of taking Severus to one of the meetings with his friends outside Hogwarts.
'You have to understand,' he quietly told Severus on Tuesday at lunch. 'It is impossible to smuggle anyone into or out of Hogwarts at the moment. The tunnels are all shut, the entrance doors are guarded by members of the wizarding army, Dumbledore is doing regular inspections in every dormitory of every house, and he has told the Prefects and us to lay an extra eye on trouble-makers - which includes you, if I might point this out.'
'I am not a trouble-maker,' protested Severus while gluing his toast together with two layers of peanut butter. 'I only ever...'
'...blow things up,' sighed Lucius. 'Skive off, and you did leave the castle in your first year, remember? That is all going on your record. And the more you have on that record, the less people will trust you. Especially teachers, understood? You ought to start doing things deliberately, Severus. You are too trusting.'
Severus felt his gaze darken and turned towards his toast for a little while.
'I am doing things deliberately,' he muttered, 'just not the way you want me to.'
'Oh do you?' said Lucius sharply. 'Then tell me, when have you last made a decision that was not related to your school work?'
Severus glared at him. 'What's it to you?'
'Just asking,' replied Lucius coolly. 'Proving a point.'
'Father says...' Severus began, but Lucius interrupted him rudely.
'I'm not interested in what your father says, Severus! I want to know if you have an own opinion about matters. An own free will. No, seriously. You are behaving like a child sometimes. Always going on about what 'your father' might say. Have you ever considered that some of his views might be wrong?'
Severus was puzzled.
'What do you mean?'
'Well,' said Lucius slowly, rolling his eyes to the clouded ceiling of the Great Hall, 'his blind loyalty to the Minister for Magic, for instance.'
'What are you saying?' replied Severus with effort. 'I don't understand...'
'That is might be wrong to just support whoever is the biggest bully in the playground?' snapped Lucius. 'Merlin, you are slow! Don't you understand? Your father and the whole wizarding army are serving an illusion. They are following ideals that do no longer correspond with what is best for our...'
'My father isn't wrong,' said Severus firmly, suddenly feeling the warm breath of his best friend Skein in his neck. 'My father is never wrong.'
Lucius laughed and took a sip of pumpkin juice. 'Sweet,' he said. 'Like a child, as I said. Just like a child.'
'That... no!' Suddenly Severus was wide awake. There were many things he would allow Lucius to claim, but going against his father's view was something he would - could not accept. 'You don't understand! It is not my view. It is a simple fact!'
'Severus,' said Lucius tiredly, 'everyone is wrong once in a while. Even your precious seven-feet genitor.'
'What are you saying?' hissed Severus. 'Don't you know what you're saying?'
'I know exactly what I am saying,' replied Lucius tiredly. 'Stop being childish, Severus, and consider this for a moment, will you? Just for a second. The colonel's blindness in matters of authority might cost more than just a few lives. They might split the wizarding world!'
Severus stared at Lucius, dumbstruck, not sure why his opposite was talking nonsense all of a sudden. 'Father isn't wrong,' he repeated after some time with a voice smaller than he wanted it to be. 'And you ought to stop insulting the family.'
'You are hopeless,' spat Lucius. 'No, seriously, is that what worries you? The family? Then why don't you stand up against the ridiculous decisions your father makes and give him an idea of what is right or wrong!'
'But,' said Severus emphatically, 'don't you understand that he is never wrong? How could I give him an idea of what is right or wrong? He is... he...' He trailed off for a moment, looking for words what was going on inside him. After a moment's struggle he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, which was pressing it reassuringly at first, then meaningfully.
'He is my father,' said Skein as though through a veil, glaring directly in Lucius's eyes. 'He deserves respect. I cannot and will not talk back whatever he says because he is always right!' Severus looked up, weakly. 'Understood?'
Lucius frowned at him. For some time he said nothing, then nodded.
'I see,' he said coldly. 'No, I don't, but I can see how your mind works in this matter.'
'And you can see how Lucius's mind works,' Skein informed Severus in a voice, which Severus was sure the Head Boy could not hear this time. 'Remember? Our practice went well on Saturday. You will be able to break into his mind, if only you concentrate hard enough.'
'Isn't that dangerous?' Severus whispered, throwing fearful looks at the people around him.
Lucius gave him a tired look. 'What do you mean? Your attitude? I expect it is all for the best. Your father will want you to pay him some respect. And admittedly, I would not want to go against him in this matter - or any matter, in fact'
Severus was confused.
'Yes,' said Skein, regarding Lucius again, and then bend forward so that his face was right next to Severus's. 'Try it,' he whispered. 'It is only Lucius.'
There was some silence before Lucius continued to speak, but Severus was unable to listen to a single of his words. Under the table, beside his right leg, his wand was at the ready, tempting him to do the one thing - to try if he could do it in front of all those people and still remain unseen. Severus raised his wand slightly, under the table, pointed it vaguely in the direction of Lucius's chest and heaved a deep breath.
'Legilimens,' whispered Skein. And at the same time, images started floating into Severus's head, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Many impressions at the same time, visually as well as emotionally, were making his head buzz. Lucius in the library, studying way into the night for one or the other exam, Lucius trying asking Andromeda Black out for a date and being rejected for the umpteenth time, Lucius in a circle of figures wearing cloaks and white masks... As opposed to a cat's brain (Mrs. Norris had been an excellent object of observation - in the literal sense), Lucius's memories were extremely complex and hard to understand.
The moment he realised that he had seen those people - those masks - before, Severus felt himself being lifted from his seat by his collar - and the connection broke.
Lucius looked up with some surprise while Severus craned his head back to see who was holding him in this somewhat undignified position.
Professor Fumes was an imposing figure, especially if his red face was inches from your own, with him breathing heavily through his black-haired nostrils, trying to regain composure.
'Snape!' he bellowed. 'What is that in your hand?'
Severus recoiled. 'A-a-a... m-my wand, s-sir.'
It was remarkable. As soon as a grown-up entered the scene, Skein tended to disappear into nothingness without leaving a trace, although Severus seemed to remember that it was impossible to apparate or disapparate within Hogwarts walls. And all that was left in such cases, was Severus with all his fear of being caught breaking the rules.
And that he knew he was afraid of - justly afraid of, as his father tended to point out.
'May I ask for what reasons you have taken out your wand, hidden it under the table and muttered incantations in the middle of a meal!' snarled Fumes now. The Great Hall suddenly fell into a grave silence with everyone staring at the small boy in the hands of the unpopular Potions Master.
Severus was aware that everyone was staring at him and tried to gather his thoughts for a witty reply, but his voice failed him and only unintelligible stammering emerged his mouth once he tried to give a decent reply.
'Think you're funny, do you?' hissed Fumes, taking Severus's wand out of his hand and tapping his head with it indignantly. For a second Severus feared he was going to be transformed into something horrible, as Fumes tended to do with people who were late for class. Then, however, the Potions Master turned and addressed the Great Hall, 'I notice a considerable lack of discipline among you students. At times like this be told that it is not advisable to fool around or disregard rules that have been set up for your own safety!'
'Alexander,' came Dumbledore's calm voice suddenly from the direction of the staff table. Severus turned, as much as possible, and stared into the headmaster's impenetrable blue eyes. Fumes, too, turned his head, regarding his fellow teachers with visible displeasure.
'Just an example, headmaster,' he said curtly, obviously trying not to be the cause of an open dispute.
'Put him down,' said Dumbledore as calmly as before. 'I believe he has learned his lesson.'
There was a grave silence hanging over the Great Hall for the rest of the meal, after Fumes had quite unceremoniously pushed Severus down on his seat again, not without giving him a light smack on the head. Severus realised that he was sick of people pushing him around, and also that he was sick of Skein leaving the place of battle when things were getting difficult.
But Skein did not appear again, even when Severus walked all the way up to the owlery after lunch, brooding over the fact that Lucius's friends were, in fact, the people who had abducted half the school from the Hogwarts Express.
He wondered if he was surprised to find out that Lucius was engaged in activities that were taking place outside Hogwarts, and that he had friends who actually took action against the abysmal state the wizarding world was in, but found that he was not. Lucius had always been restless. And his father had often said that he might end up mixing with individuals who were not quite as loyal to the government as one might wish. Well, he had been right.
'Of course,' Severus thought grimly, 'because he always is. As I said. As I keep saying. And as you keep denying, Lucius.'
He knew what his duty was. Some time ago, when his mother had still been alive, his father had told him that everyone had to look out for 'rebels'. To prevent that they started taking over everywhere, destroying the piece within the wizarding world. In fact, Severus now realised, it was people like Lucius Malfoy, who were responsible for the division of the wizarding world. It was people like Lucius Malfoy who had the right ideas, but chose the wrong actions at the wrong time and thus formed an opposition to the generation of their parents, who, so much was clear, preferred talking things over than to actually put their intentions into action.
The door of the owlery fell shut with a bang and Severus started searching for one of the school owls. Suddenly, in one of the corners of the cross vault room, the figure of a gaunt man appeared. Severus knew him quite well, as they had exchanged one or the other friendly word over the years, ever since their first encounter at this very place, in the vaults of the owlery. Severus looked around and spotted the caretaker's cat Mrs. Norris, who was following her master in her usual fashion. Filch, on the other hand, looked tired and much less cheerful than he had when Severus had seen him last.
'Snape,' he said in a voice no more than a hiss, 'up here again, writing letters to your parents?'
'To my father,' replied Severus timidly. 'My mother died in summer.'
Filch seemed taken aback for a moment. 'Drat,' he eventually said. 'That's painful.'
Severus nodded, his eyes closed. The caretaker tended to have a very accurate choice of words.
'And you didn't get the year off?' the older man continued. 'What kind of world is this?'
Against his will, a smile appeared on Severus's face.
'Ah well,' he said vaguely, realising that he was actually joking around with a grown-up. 'I would have come anyway. Can't miss the occasional Quidditch match.'
They both hated the matches - and knew the other did. Filch grinned. A row of yellowish teeth appeared. 'I bet.'
'Do you?' enquired Severus, encouraged by the caretaker's positive reaction to his sarcasm. 'But not on Ravenclaw, I hope? They are getting the worst reviews of all these days.'
'Nah,' replied Filch in a matter-of-fact voice, 'the only team to go with is Gryffindor, isn't it? What with that superb seeker they got?'
Severus felt himself cringe for a moment, but quickly remembered that there was no possible way that Filch could like James Potter and his overconfident Gryffindor mates.
'Well, at the moment he is seeking his own death, it seems,' he thus remarked. 'Outside the castle. You must have noticed that has become quiet in the corridors?'
'Indeed I have,' growled the caretaker, who was still grinning. 'But I wish him the best of luck with this quest, of course.'
It took Severus a second to understand this one. With effort only, he managed to suppress a snort of laughter.
'So do I,' he blurted out, being more honest than sarcastic for once. 'Mr. Filch, do you think it likely that they will never return? None of them?'
'I don't know,' replied the caretaker, a tad more serious than before. 'But you do know that some things ought not to be said, don't you? Especially not before people like the hot-headed Head of Gryffindor?'
Severus nodded again.
'What did you write in your letter?' enquired the caretaker now.
Severus hesitated. 'I haven't actually written anything yet,' he mumbled. 'I never write before I'm up here. Can't concentrate in the Great Hall.'
'I see,' nodded Filch. 'Well, there's people down there, of course. You wouldn't necessarily want everyone to know what you're writing.'
'That too,' replied Severus quietly.
'What are you going to write then?' Filch went on asking. Severus hesitated. His anger at Lucius had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. And he did not feel like contacting his father anyway.
'Mr. Filch,' he said after a while pensively, 'is not telling the same as lying?'
'Of course not,' was the prompt reply. Severus felt that he was regarded with a look of seriousness and some confusion. 'Why?'
'Because I think I am not going to write after all,' mumbled Severus. 'For now. To see how things develop.'
Filch nodded. Severus knew that he did not understand what he was talking about, but appreciated that the older man knew exactly when to stop asking questions. He found that this was a quality he appreciated in the people he surrounded himself with.
Some time later, he returned to the Slytherin dormitory, having stopped thinking about Lucius or the Knights for now, deeply involved in the question of how much of an owl's guts you needed to complete the Shrieking Solution they were supposed to plan for their next Potions lesson.