Chapter Two: Slytherin Confessions

The Saturday afternoon following his first Potions class with Potter, Severus visited the Malfoy Estate. A house elf showed him inside, and from there into the library where Lucius sat by the fire, tea already laid out in front of him, and a small bottle of something stronger settled discretely to one side. The Malfoy patriarch was reading when Severus entered, but he looked up and set the book aside when Severus came in. "Professor Snape."

"Lord Malfoy." The formality was a dance they'd learned to start with years ago, if for no other benefit than watching house elves. Then Lucius gestured for the house elf to leave. Another flick of his fingers, and Severus felt the privacy wards, the strong wards that only the Malfoy lord could cast in this house, erect themselves around the library. He relaxed a little.

They both took tea, then settled back into their respective chairs by the hearth. Malfoy took one sip of his drink, then spoke. "I understand Draco is in your House?"

"He is."

"And doing well in his classes? Settling in properly with his house mates?"

"He appears to be. The younger Crabbe and Goyle have taken to hovering around him, like body guards, or an entourage. Draco neither encourages nor discourages the behavior. Of the rest of the House...he has some friendly acquaintances among his year and older years, and he is civil with the rest, if still...remarkably sure of his place in the world." Severus kept his tone calm and even.

Lucius sighed. "He is a Malfoy." Severus knew he had caught the unspoken reference to arrogance, and the faint rebuke. "He has grown up all his life in pure blood circles, among men of influence. It would be unthinkable that he would not be sure of his place in the world."

Severus nodded, accepting the return statement. Even Lucius could not control the effect of an entire society upon his son, particularly not at this time. He chose to continue his report. "Draco has done fairly well in his classes thus far. He turned in a near-perfect potion to me yesterday, for the practical part of the lesson. In other classes, I hear he does well, if not outstanding, and behaves no worse than any other first year, and better than many. It is too soon to be certain of anything save that his initial performance was satisfactory."

He paused, then decided to add the information for a smooth transition into the things they both were truly interested in. "Of his contemporaries within House, so far he seems to be of equal skill with most of them. Within other Houses...it is hard to say. Potter, of course, is garnering much excited attention, and has been the subject of discussion among most of the staff. And one Gryffindor girl, a Muggleborn, by the name of Hermione Granger. She is...ferocious in her learning, possessed of an extremely good memory, and determined to demonstrate her intelligence. And she is intelligent, if not possessed of the intuitive sense of when to stop trying to impress people with it." He scowled. "Her theoretical marks may come out higher than Draco's, but I cannot say whether her practical work will match her book learning."

Lucius grimaced. "A Muggleborn..." He stopped himself, almost visibly, then took a long drink of tea. "I shall, of course, encourage Draco to make greater efforts in his studies. A Malfoy should always do his best."

Severus followed suit, sipping his own tea. It was good, one of his preferred blends, and he appreciated that Lucius had thought to provide it for him. But then, Lucius had become much more courteous to him as the years rolled by.

Silence settled between them. Severus sipped his tea, quite willing to let Lucius be the one to break it. The first week of school was always difficult, and he was enjoying the quiet of Malfoy Manor. Still, he was not sorry when Lucius spoke again. "You said Draco has come to you, regarding contacting Harry Potter. And it did not go well?"

"It did not, according to Draco, and to Potter's reactions when I probed him on the subject." Severus grimaced. "As near as I can tell, Draco approached Potter rather in the manner of a lord extending a favor to a servant, and compounded the error of upsetting the boy's pride by insulting the Weasley boy that Potter befriended on the train. The result is a disconcerting feeling of failure and wounded pride on Draco's part, and a rather sullen dislike on Potter's."

He stopped, but Lucius seemed to be waiting for him to go on. He had written of his advice to Draco in the letter he'd sent, but he repeated it now. "I have explained to Draco that, though the Malfoy name is a prominent one in the Wizarding World, Potter was raised by Muggles. He knows nothing of wizarding families, bloodlines, and politics, and is unlikely to be impressed by them, at least at this time. I have also pointed out to him my suspicions that Potter was not raised by wealthy folk, and does not recognize great wealth as being of great value. In short, that Draco may be a prince of a kind among pure-blood and wizard families, but none of that means anything to Potter, and arrogance about it will only anger him."

Lucius snorted. "Potter. Was he raised more...to the Weasley's style, or to yours?"

Severus shook his head. "I cannot say. I am unable to determine that, as yet." He sipped his tea, then refilled his nearly empty cup. "I have told Draco that he should apologize, and that you would understand the benefits of it, but that it must be sincere."

"Of course." Lucius refilled his own cup. "But if Potter refuses him..."

"I know. There is nothing that can be done. But I have done what I can, on that end." Severus felt his muscles tighten. He knew what question Lucius would ask next, and where it would lead. But it was this that he had come to the Manor to discuss, primarily.

"Have you? You did not mention it in your earlier correspondence." Lucius's eyes sharpened.

"I have. I have told Potter that it would be...advisable...should he attempt to make peace with Draco. I informed him that I had remonstrated with Draco for his actions, and suggested that, should Draco approach him with an apology, he would do well to accept it." He inhaled deeply.

"Indeed. Though...what certainty do you have that Potter will follow your suggestion?" Lucius was still watching him, in a way that made it plain that he knew what Severus was hedging around.

"I have none. However, I did imply that it go a long way towards a smoother and less difficult experience in my class." he took a larger drink of the tea.

"Indeed." Lucius finished his cup, then set it down to stare at him with piercing grey eyes. "I assume that Potter's difficulties in your class were behind that rather curt missive I received last night?"

"Yes." He set his cup down across from the other, and tried not to eye the bottle of whiskey settled on the mantle. He paused, then snarled out the first words that came to mind. "He looks so much like James Potter, it is like falling into a Pensieve of those days."

"But he is not James Potter. At the very least, he has Lily Potter's eyes. We have been over this, Severus." Lucius sounded acidic, and almost annoyed.

"I know it!" Severus stood, paced a few steps, then back, the turmoil that had been simmering in his gut rising to the surface. "I know it. He has Lily Potter's eyes, and some of her facial structure, the more oval cast to the face, and her mannerisms. He is shyer than James Potter ever was, and quieter, and more polite. And it almost...almost...did not matter, the first time I saw him in my class!" He clenched his jaw then continued. He would rather have kept this to himself, but he had come here for advice, and Lucius could give him none if he did not reveal the truth. "I almost penalized the boy for taking notes, simply because I glanced at him and he had the audacity to be looking at his paper instead of me. I was within a breath of calling him out as a lazy arrogant brat before I realized what he was doing! I nearly gave him detention when another boy's cauldron exploded, simply because he happened to be at the brewing station next to it." His hands clenched into fists.

Lucius rose without a word as he finished his rant, opened the bottle of whiskey, poured two glasses, and handed him one. The Malfoy patriarch waited until he took a measured swallow, then gestured for him to sit down. He did, and Lucius did as well. They sat in silence for several minutes, both drinking small sips of whiskey, while Severus let his nerves calm.

Finally, he relaxed enough to sigh. "My apologies, for my behavior."

Lucius waved it away, but his eyes were troubled. And when he spoke, his voice was quiet. "I know that I have my own...concerns, that I must overcome, and that in 10 years, you would say I still have far to go. But this..." he paused, frowned, sipped at his whiskey.

"I struggle to alter my thinking of Muggleborns and half-bloods. But I am surrounded frequently by those who expect me to be against them. By those who share a mindset of their inferiority and expect me to share it as well. So too, with my status as the scion of a rich and noble house. It is difficult to alter the patterns of thought forged by a lifetime, particularly when one must continue hearing them expressed all around, and cannot afford to show too great a divergence." he sipped his whiskey again, then looked Severus square in the eyes. "But you are different, and I do not understand."

Severus opened his mouth, and Lucius shook his head, stilling his words. He stopped, recognizing that Lucius was still speaking his own thoughts aloud. "You...your anger is directed towards a man a decade dead, Severus. He cannot harm you. Hate him or forgive him, it matters not. We have discussed it. You have dueled me in the likeness of his shade and claimed your victory. You have planned to turn his son from the path he followed. And yet at the first sight of the boy...You are hunting a ghost in the body of his son. And that, especially when you know all that is at stake, for my son, for your safety, for the plans we both have forged...it is folly. And you are not a fool. Unless, rather than folly, it is madness instead." He met Severus's eyes. "Why? What did James Potter do? You have told me much, but nothing that accounts for this...this obsessive anger you harbor."

Severus swallowed hard, then stood and held his glass out for a refill. Lucius filled the glass silently, and continued to watch him.

He did not want to discuss this, the one memory, or perhaps two, that he had never revealed to Lucius. And yet, now that Lucius had named his hatred as madness, he could see where the perception came from. It was, at the least, irrational. And Lucius was right, that they could not afford it.

He swallowed again, steeling himself for what had to be spoken of. Hoping Lucius knew enough that he did not need to say much. "The first time you came to my house, you referenced an event in my fifth year of school."

Lucius tilted his head, but answered. "Yes. Something involving Potter, that ultimately resulted in the ending of your association with Lily Evans, who later became his wife."

Severus nodded. "How much do you know?"

"Only that something...rather dramatic happened. I was never informed as to the details."

Severus winced, and his hands tightened on the cup. "If I tell you this...it does not go beyond you Lucius. You will not breathe a word. Not to Narcissa. Not to Draco. Not to the Dark Lord if he returns, and not even where you think a house elf may overhear. Swear it to me."

"As you wish. I so swear." Faint light sparked around the fingers of his wand hand, the mark of a genuine oath, for those that could see it. "But it must have been...very dramatic indeed."

Severus took another drink of his whiskey, letting the fire of alcohol burn down to his gut. He shifted his gaze to the fire. Lucius did not press him to begin, seeming content to let him take his time. Finally, the churning in his stomach subsided enough for him to find words. "It was during the O.W.L. Examinations, just after our Defense Against Dark Arts exam. I went outside, to think, to study for the next test, and simply because I was tired of the walls of the castle and the dust of the classrooms, and the smell of stone and parchment. The sun was shining, and it was good weather to be out of doors."

It was more detail than he would normally go into, and he knew he was hesitating, but Lucius did not press him. "I was...thinking over my exam, trying to sort out what I might have missed, to note it for consideration for my NEWT exams. I was also thinking of my next exam, and where I could best apply my study time, for maximum benefit. In short, I was distracted. I suppose I thought that,it being exams, even the Marauders would be too busy working to make mischief. Or perhaps I simply did not bother to pay attention. Either way, I did not see them until it was too late, and Potter and Black attacked me."

He took another gulp of whiskey. Lucius did not admonish him, not even with a raised eyebrow. He appeared content to simply listen.

"I fought back, but I had been startled, and two-on-one...the odds did not favor me, and I had not nearly the experience I have acquired since. I lost my wand far too quickly, and was at their mercy." His jaw clenched. "To be pinned and helpless...I did not appreciate it. Less so when Potter used a Scourgify to my face." Lucius winced. "I near choked on the soap, and the inability to speak disarmed me quite as badly as losing my wand could have. And then Potter..." he stopped, struggling to get the words out. "At that point, Lily Evans arrived, and came to my defense. Had I not been angry and humiliated..."

His hands clenched around the glass. Lucius frowned, then reached across and yanked the glass from his hands. A second later, the Malfoy lord murmured an Unbreakable Charm over it, then handed it back, refilled. "Continue."

His hands tightened around the cup again. He was vaguely relieved he wouldn't be picking shards of expensive crystal out of his hands later. The rest of his mind was lost in the past. "Lily forced Potter and Black to release me. A state that did not last after I sent a Cutting Hex in Potter's direction. It grazed his face, and in retaliation, he slung me into the air upside down." His jaw clenched again.

Lucius said nothing, and after a moment, he continued. "I am sure you recall the state of my uniforms and my non-uniform clothing when I came to Hogwarts." Lucius nodded. "By the time I was fifteen, it had not improved much. My robes were in good condition, but the rest...more to the point, I anticipated sitting in uncomfortable classrooms for hours, writing exams, and thus, I did not wear my best clothing under the robes, nor even my second best. I did not see the point. When Potter slung me into the air, the sorry state of my wardrobe was revealed to everyone watching. And it got worse."

He had to stop, to drink. Then he rose and turned away. He could not face Lucius for this. "Potter threatened to strip me. He was laughing, asking the crowd if they thought it would be funny, while his cohorts mocked me and called me names."

There was no sound behind him, and he was glad for it. Relieved that Lucius did not say anything, that he did not have to see the older man's face as he spoke.

It was hard, like choking up glass and acid, to continue. "At that point, Lily Evans intervened again. She chastised James, got him to lower me to the ground at least. Lectured him. Perhaps, if I could have stayed silent, it would have been the end of it. But I was...humiliated beyond reason, and I could not endure it. I told her that I did not need a Mudblood to defend me. A stupid mistake on my part."

He finished the rest of the whiskey in his glass, and set it down to resist the urge to throw the glass into the fire. "Black promptly hexed me again. Potter yanked me back into the air. Lily, angry at what I called her, turned on me. She joined in the taunting, briefly, until Potter annoyed her, then left." The cold mockery in Lily's voice still burned within him. 'Perhaps you should wash your pants...Snivellus.' "At that point, Potter made good on his earlier threat. I watched Lily Evans walk away while Potter suspended me upside down and stripped my trousers and my dignity from me." His hand clenched on the back of the chair, and he was startled to hear the wood crack under the pressure of his fingers.

"Ah." Lucius's voice was quiet, neutral. Somehow, it soothed him, though perhaps it was the alcohol and tea he had drunk.

He had to finish. "I apologized to Lily later, but she said it was obvious where I was headed and what I wanted, and that there was no reason for our paths in life to associate with one another any longer. No reason I should spare her from the slurs that I would visit upon the rest of the student body who shared her parentage. It was the end of our association."

He heard Lucius move, mutter something, and then the older man was at his side, holding a cup full of tea. A sniff revealed that at least a partial dose of Calming Drought was in there. He drank it anyway.

Lucius appeared to be thinking. When he spoke, the words came slowly. "An assault of that magnitude, that public...surely it was reported to Dumbledore, or at least the Heads of House."

Something bitter welled up inside him. "It was not. Or if it was, nothing was done. Dumbledore tended to dismiss everything the Marauders did as a joke, a harmless prank. Slughorn did not care for me, as I was not in a position to be of any use to him. Minerva McGonnagall was Head of Gryffindor, but she would have been inclined to believe Potter and Black, who would most certainly have claimed I started the fight." He drank more of the tea. "There was only one group of people who ever did anything for me, ever tried to defend me or take vengeance on my behalf. And you know well who, and what, they were."

"I know. I had encouraged them to recruit you. As I had done." Lucius nodded. He paused, then asked in a much softer voice. "That was the worst of it?"

"The worst of Potter's doings. The worst experience I recall. There was, perhaps, one incident worse, but it was of Black's making."

"Tell me anyway." Lucius caught his glance and huffed. "The two are linked, Severus. And Black, unlike Potter, is not a ghost. In Azkaban, perhaps, but not a ghost."

He nodded. "My sixth year. I was desperate to get revenge. To regain some face within the school. Black knew it. He taunted me, and dared me. I fell for it, and he set a werewolf on me. He knew where there was one spending it's full moons, and arranged that I would come face to face with it, on a dare to meet and challenge him in a duel." Severus felt his face twist in anger, in bitter fury. "Potter did not scruple to torment me simply because I existed, but apparently his morals stopped him at murder or being bitten by a werewolf. Though perhaps that was only because he knew the consequences for the werewolf...He helped me escape, got me out alive and un-bitten."

Lucius frowned. "Black should have been expelled for that."

Severus grimaced. "The Headmaster interceded. He knew the werewolf, and the price of a werewolf attacking a wizard is high, even if the wolf is not entirely at fault. I was told to say nothing. James Potter was commended for rescuing me. Sirius Black received a slap on the wrist, at best. And that was meant to be the end of it." He drained the last of the tea in his cup. "In a way, it was. Potter stopped his assaults and started dating Lily Evans not long after. Black limited his actions to occasional hexes and verbal assaults. The other two, Pettigrew and Lupin, stayed out of it. And I...you know what I did."

Lucius nodded. "You turned seventeen, and joined the Dark Lord."

"Indeed."

Lucius frowned thoughtfully, then handed him the plate of small sandwiches and snacks that had accompanied the tea. Severus took one of each. He didn't feel like eating, but he knew what alcohol and Calming Droughts could do to an empty stomach. Besides, he didn't want to be drunk either. He ate quietly watching Lucius as the older man chewed on a sandwich and stared into the fire with a distracted expression on his face.

Finally, Lucius finished, and turned to look at him again. "Hearing this...I am not surprised at your fury with Potter." Lucius paused, then spoke softly. "However...your continued connection to his wife...now that, I wonder about."

Severus stiffened, clenched his jaw. Lucius watched his face. "It was more than a childhood friendship, was it not? And more than your school rivalry that drives your fury."

He hesitated, then spoke as much as he could bear to. "Lily Evans, who became Lily Potter, was the first person to show me any kindness in my life. The first person I was able to freely share my world with. The only one, in my youth, who knew of my family, and who tried to offer me any alternative." He had told Lucius something of his father, over the past ten years, and a bit about his mother as well. "You should know enough of me by now to know what that meant."

"Perhaps. Enough to guess." Lucius bowed his head, conceding the point. "I simply wondered...is it the father's ghost you are hunting in the boy, or the mother's ghost that you are avoiding?"

That accusation hurt, like a blow from a curse. Severus stiffened. "You..."

"Must ask. If you cannot see with clear eyes, you endanger all of us. Yourself. Me. My son. My wife. I will not risk all of that, all we have worked toward and planned for these past 10 years, simply because you are blinded by old wounds, however understandable. At the very least, you must know what is truly haunting you, or any position you take will be untenable, and thus, any support you provide for this mad balancing scheme will be unstable at best. And I will not risk it." Lucius looked stern, and Severus swallowed back his anger.

Lucius was right. More to the point, he had come here to get a different perspective than his own, to try and clear his thoughts. He had asked for Lucius to provide him insight, if possible. He had no right to be angry when the older man did so.

Had he been alone, he might not have cared. Had he nothing to protect besides his own position, and Potter, he would not have worried. He could protect Potter from a distance, if needed. And his problems were his own. But he had agreed to work with Lucius. And for that...

He closed his eyes, then opened them as Lucius caught his arm and steered him back to his chair, muttering a quick 'Reparo' at the splintered wood. The Malfoy patriarch pushed him into the seat, then settled into his own and sat back, watching him.

Severus took a few deep breaths, settling himself, as he considered the question. "Both. But it is easier to hate James Potter's shade than to deal with the other."

"As long as you understand." Lucius relaxed. "Will you be able to handle the matter, or do you require outside assistance?"

"I am...uncertain. But it would be better if I can manage my own affairs." Severus exhaled, and allowed himself to relax against the chair's support. "Allow me some time. If I cannot cope by Christmas, or the end of the boy's first year..."

"Then I will intervene. However I deem appropriate." The words were calm, bland, but nonetheless a clear promise, if not threat.

"Agreed." It was only fair. Lucius had more to lose than he did, after all.

The two of them lapsed into companionable silence for a while, sipping the remains of the tea and snacking on the refreshments provided. Finally Severus looked up from his empty glass. "When will Narcissa return?" He knew the Malfoy lady would have greeted him on his arrival, or arranged to check on them, had she been home.

"Late. She went to one of those...women's social outings." Lucius gestured vaguely.

"Very well." Severus glanced at the clock. "We shall both need more material to work with, if we wish to aid Draco in befriending Potter." He rose to his feet. "I do not have Potter's address, but I managed to obtain the name of the town he lives in. I had some intentions to look around, see what sort of place it might be. Will you accompany me?"

Lucius grimaced, but rose to his feet as well. "I suppose. I shall leave a message for Narcissa." He frowned at his robes. "What would you recommend as the...appropriate dress?"

Snape looked down at his own clothes; robe, jacket, shirt and trousers. Mid-class Muggle on a Saturday...he stripped off the robes and jacket, turned down the collar and undid the top button with a grimace. He considered the weather, then reluctantly unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as well, casting a spell to hide the faded Mark on his left arm. "I imagine something similar to this, unless you wish to attempt true Muggle casual."

Lucius shuddered. They'd both seen jeans and T-shirts and what passed for Muggle casual, including short pants. "No." A short set of charms later, and he was dressed in clothing similar to Severus's, though more finely tailored. Another wave undid the privacy charms around the library. After a brief pause to summon a house elf and dictate a message for Narcissa, the two wizards Apparated to Little Whinging, Surrey.

***FWBtD***

Severus hadn't formed any particular preconceptions before visiting. The name 'Little Whinging' did not inspire great confidence, but might have been indicative of the town founders sense of humor. He had only researched enough to understand it was a relatively middle class suburb, and where a likely safe apparition point was. Fortunately, there were enough wizards in the general area that safe locations had been established at various points. With no idea of what Potter's actual address was, he and Lucius picked the one closest to Malfoy Manor.

They landed in what was clearly a neighborhood park, on a walking path surrounded by trees. Severus mentally approved the choice. It wasn't all that visible, even to others in the park, and it's position made it easy to pretend one had just come round the other side of the path and been startled. He checked his wand (it wasn't easy to hide the blasted thing without robes or long sleeves), then he and Lucius made their way down the path, out into the main area of the park.

Several mothers were watching children. Older children were playing in the nearby open area, football it looked like. Younger children played on swings, slid down slides, or ran shrieking through the children's area in their own imaginary games. Severus noticed a couple of mothers watching him warily, then cursed under his breath as he realized they were frowning at his long hair. He'd washed it, but it was still oily, and these days Muggle men didn't wear their hair long and not tied back. He'd forgotten that.

Lucius smirked and produced two hair ties. Severus smirked back and used a discreet bit of magic to transform them into the flexible bands that Muggles seemed to favor. Both men quickly tied their hair back into low tails on the nape of their necks, and the mothers seemed to relax, just a fraction. Severus snorted. "You'd think tying our hair back made us less dangerous."

"Merely more respectable." Lucius was more comfortable with the nuances of polite society than he was. The elder wizard gestured. "Shall we?" Severus nodded.

They left the park and started into the neighborhood proper. Severus eyed the houses. They were all slightly larger and in much better condition than his own house in Spinner's End. He'd made some improvements to the place, with Lucius visiting regularly, but it was still not the most reputable of houses. He'd argued that he didn't want it to stand out and invite undue attention, and it was easier to leave the front porch unpainted than it was to paint and repair it, then throw up a dozen charms to confuse people.

These houses were all well-maintained, brightly painted, with neat little fences and well-kept lawns in varying shades of green. Here and there flower gardens provided color. Each house had a small mail box on a post in front, and most also had a mail slot in the door.

Severus grimaced. Despite differences in color, and the occasional presence of flower beds or a small porch, every house looked almost the same to him. Square, one or two stories, neat and tidy. The overall effect to him was one of stagnant, almost oppressive normalcy.

Spinner's End had been stifling to him, but that neighborhood at least had the excuse of poverty. The neighborhood he walked through now felt smothering in it's unending sameness.

Lucius was frowning slightly, his hands flexing slightly at his sides. Severus smirked. "Observations?"

Lucius flicked a glance at him. "It is very...economical."

Severus bit back a snort. "Economical. There's not a breath of imagination to these houses. They are the dwellings of people who wish to disappear into a crowd, content with mediocrity, and simply being 'like everyone else'." He scowled. "I suppose it's an improvement compared to Spinner's End, but only in the quality of the architecture."

Lucius nodded. "I confess...there is a certain...lack of elegance to them." The Malfoy patriarch tipped his head to a pair of ladies walking on the opposite sidewalk, offering a small, gentlemanly smile that made both women blush. "I never thought I would see a place that made me prefer the Weasley house."

Severus released a short bark of laughter. He knew what Lucius thought of the haphazard dwelling on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole. That Lucius would state that he preferred Molly and Arthur Weasley's untidy sprawling dwelling to this place said volumes about his opinion of the neighborhood. "Indeed."

Lucius let his gaze flick to the houses, to the people who periodically appeared, watering lawns, strolling the sidewalks, chatting quietly. "To be a wizard child in a place like this..."

Severus nodded. In some ways, this was worse than Spinner's End. Magic there could be almost useful. A reputation as odd could be a sort of protection, as it had been for him in his childhood. But here, in this tidy little place, he doubted it would afford the same luxury. The oddness that created respect and a shield of sorts in the lowest class areas would only create fear and suspicion here. To be a wizard in this middle class, quiet suburbia would most likely be like being a Squib in a prominent pure-blood family.

A few minutes more of walking took them out of the immediate residential area and into a sort of neighborhood shopping center. No doubt where the housewives did their basic grocery shopping and such. A few little shops, tucked away on a street that most likely led to the main traffic area, and the main part of the city. In silent agreement, both men turned up the main street, heading for the town.

The town was bustling, noisy. Teenagers wandered around, alone or in groups, half of them listening to loud music and nearly oblivious to everything around them, half in conversation with others. Severus saw Lucius's expression twitch in distaste at some of the fashions the teenagers were sporting. Not that he blamed the aristocrat. Some of what he saw made him extremely glad that Hogwarts had a mandatory dress code. Inside the shops, tradesmen and locals shopped, spoke, worked and went about their business.

They stopped at a local pub for a meal (though the noise of the football game on the telly nearly drove them back out again) then returned to Malfoy Manor. Severus resumed his normal attire, as did Lucius, and both of them withdrew to the study. Lucius summoned drinks, then settled into his seat. "Your impressions Severus? You know more of this than I."

Severus frowned, lacing his fingers together and tapping his thumbs while he spoke. "It is not impossible for the boy to have had a relatively comfortable childhood. His mother grew up in such a neighborhood, and thrived. It would depend on how his guardians perceived magic, and the impact of his accidental magic upon the community. If his outbursts were not disruptive, and his family a loving, supportive one, then he could conceivably have been quite happy."

"And if his magic were disruptive, or his family unsupportive..."

"There is no guessing." Severus frowned. "I cannot say for certain, but there are things Hagrid spoke of that make me...slightly concerned."

"Ah. Do tell."

Severus considered. "Hagrid mentioned that the boy was placed with his relatives. With Lily's sister. Petunia Evans, when I knew her, was not fond of magic." That was an understatement. The only thing Petunia had hated worse than magic and Lily's having it had been him. "If her husband and son were of similar temperament...they could have made the boy's life quite uncomfortable."

"You think him abused?"

Severus shook his head. "I can not say with any certainty. He does not react like a seriously abused child. Beyond that, if he suffered milder abuse or neglect, I have not observed him enough to know. I can only say for certain that he is quiet and small for his age. Hagrid mentioned in passing that he was economical in his spending, extremely shy about asking questions, and that he 'cleaned up well'. He implied the boy had second hand clothing, though that may have simply been what he was wearing at the time." Another fragment of the conversation came back to him, and his fingers clenched tightly together.

"What is it? Severus?"

"Something I had momentarily forgotten, in my own problems dealing with the boy. I mentioned it to Draco, but I had not considered it again." He scowled at his drink. "Hagrid told me that the boy's Aunt and Uncle kept him ignorant of magic. Of his own past. According to what he told me, Harry Potter was told that magic was not real, and that his parents died in a car crash." His hand clenched around the glass. "According to Hagrid, Petunia swore to 'stamp the magic out of him'."

Lucius raised one eyebrow, and the Malfoy patriarch's scowl matched his own. "That's absurd." The slender fingers tightened on his cup. "But that would seem to be an indicator of their attitude towards magic..."

"Indeed. I shall watch him more closely." Severus grimaced. "Were he in my House, I would have an excuse to call him in. As it is, I shall have to devise one. If I can bring him round to speaking of his relatives, I shall. If not, I will simply have to keep an eye on him."

"If Draco can manage a truce with him, or a friendship, then you can simply summon Draco, and have Harry Potter accompany him. If he remains in enmity with the boy..." Lucius made a face. "I suppose there will be ample room for you to give both of them detentions."

"Naturally." Severus glanced up at the clock above the mantle, then finished his drink. "I must return. Dumbledore will no doubt be wondering where I have been as it is."

Lucius nodded, and rose to see him to the door. "Quite. But do keep me informed. On Draco, and Potter. And on your own...condition."

Severus nodded. "I shall." Then he turned, strode across the lawn to the end of the wards, and Apparated back to Hogwarts.

***FWBtD***

Harry enjoyed the weekend. He was tempted to take Ron's advice, and relax until Sunday night, but the sight of Hermione Granger, curled up with her textbooks in the common room, reminded him of what Professor Snape had said. So instead of goofing off until after dinner, he and Ron spent most of the day Sunday reading and working on essays.

Professor Snape's advice turned out to be handy for his homework. He read the chapters as suggested, taking notes as he went. Afterward, working on his essays, he found he remembered more of the material. Even more than that, he could look at his notes for stuff he didn't remember, as opposed to flipping through the book for ten or twenty minutes. Ron had helped him figure out writing with a quill on the first day, and he actually finished faster than Ron did. He decided to apply the technique to the rest of his classes. By dinner time he was mostly finished (Ron was only about halfway through) and he felt quite pleased with himself.

The notice Monday morning about flying lessons on Thursday excited him even if, like Ron, he wasn't too thrilled about taking them with Slytherins. He still remembered what Snape had told him about Malfoy. But Malfoy hadn't approached him yet, and he hadn't thought it worth the trouble to seek the other boy out. He contented himself with finishing his essays and reading assignments, and learning the basics of Wizards Chess from Ron. He wished Ron would go easy on him sometimes.

Finally, Thursday came around. Harry joined the others at breakfast, ducked the morning mail with everyone else who wasn't receiving anything, then looked over Ron's shoulder as Ron read the Daily Prophet. A note caught his eye. "Break in at Gringotts?"

"Yeah. It's crazy. Someone actually got into a high security vault. Lucky it was already empty, really. No telling what they'd have got otherwise." Ron handed him the paper.

Harry frowned. "Vault 713? That's the vault Hagrid went to after we went to mine for money for my school supplies." He remembered the giant's furtive behavior. He read the rest of the brief article, then folded the paper and handed it back. "Strange. I wonder what was in there."

"No telling. Could have been anything." Ron shrugged, then blinked. "Oy, Neville, what's that?" He gestured to the glass sphere in Neville Longbottom's hand, filled with red smoke.

Neville made a face. "It's a Rememberall. It turns red if you've forgotten something. But I...can't remember what I've forgotten." He flushed, then stuffed it in his pocket.

After breakfast, they made their way outside. Madam Hooch was there, with broomsticks lined up on either side of her. She gestured. "Everyone, left side of the broom, right hand over the broomstick and call 'up!' Speak clearly and firmly."

Harry's broom slapped into his palm at once. So did Malfoy's. Ron's hit him in the nose. Most of the others just sort of twitched on the ground. Hermione's included. Harry tried not to smile. She'd been reciting broom-riding tips and rules and regulations and broom statistics all morning, and it helped a little to know that he didn't need to know all that to be able to get a hand on his broom.

Finally, they all had their brooms in hand. Madam Hooch showed them how to mount, adjusted hand positions as needed, then moved to the front of the line. "Right. On my mark, kick off, hover for a few seconds, then touch back down."

Harry readied himself. "One...two...three...Longbottom!"

Neville had kicked off on three, and hard too, from the looks of it. Before Madam Hooch could even catch hold of him, he shot off into the sky like a rocket. The broom rose twenty or so feet in the air, then Neville slipped, fell, and hit the ground with a loud cry and a nasty sounding crack that made Harry and everyone else wince.

Madam Hooch was at his side in an instant. "Broken wrist...better get you to the Infirmary." Harry winced again. He wasn't surprised, as accident prone as Neville was generally, but he was sure a broken bone would hurt. And it wasn't going to do anything for Neville's nerves, or the fear of flying that he'd been showing evidence of all week.

Madam Hooch helped Neville up, then glared at the rest of them. "I'll be back in a minute. Everyone is to keep their brooms firmly on the ground. Anyone I catch in the air will be in detention before you can say Quidditch." She pinned them all with one last glare, then put her arm around Neville's shoulder and gently led him away. "Come on lad."

Harry sighed. But before he could do anything, there was a shout. Malfoy darted forward. "Look at this! It's that thing Longbottom got this morning." He held up the Rememberall.

Harry scowled. "Give it here, Malfoy." He held out his hand.

Draco scowled back. "No." He stood for a moment, then flung one leg over his broom. "You want it Potter, come and get it." he launched himself into the air.

Hermione shouted a warning, but Harry didn't care. He threw himself onto his broom and launched himself after Malfoy. Before he had time to think about it, he was in the air.

And it was brilliant. He felt perfectly at ease, the broom responding to his commands as if he'd been born on one. A fierce grin lit his face. This was something he was good at, something he didn't need training or classes to be good at. A genuine skill he'd never before known he had. And it felt wonderful, as if he finally had proof that he really belonged in the wizarding world.

He faced Malfoy. "Give it here, Malfoy. Or I'll knock you off that broom."

"Keep your voice down Potter." Malfoy shrugged. "I don't mind giving it back. Not like I've much use for this little bauble anyway." He held up the Rememberall. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"You could have talked to me on the ground." Harry glared.

Malfoy scowled. "It's not that simple." The frown deepened. "Look...I wanted to apologize. About...before the ceremony. And Diagon Alley too. It took me a while to remember, but we met in Madam Malkins, right?"

"Yeah." Harry remembered. "You were going on about 'proper blood' and 'decent Houses'."

"I know that. You have to understand, Potter. There's people my family works with...there's responses that are sort of...expected, with us. People we have to deal with. Like Crabbe and Goyle. They're a bit dense, but their fathers work with my father, so we're expected to show solidarity between us. That's just the way it works."

Harry frowned. "What's your point?"

"My father says I should try to be more...open-minded. So does Professor Snape. But I don't really know anyone outside those sorts. When I was talking to you...that's just the way I'm expected to be. I didn't mean to insult you. That's just how pureblood families talk to each other, a lot of the time."

"You meant to insult Ron though." Harry didn't intend to give him an inch.

Draco grimaced. "It's...Weasleys and Malfoy's have been feuding for...it's been going on a while. It's worse between my father and his. Political disagreements. But...I'm willing to try and stop. If you'll agree to give me a second chance."

Harry bit his lip. He still didn't like Malfoy. But Malfoy had apologized. And he had, just possibly, agreed to apologize to Ron. It occurred to Harry that they'd been in the air talking for a bit too long. Any minute now, Hooch would be back, or another teacher would spot them. "Fine. We'll discuss it later. Give me Neville's Rememberall, and we'll call it pax for now." He held out his hand.

"As you like." Malfoy tossed it.

The Rememberall fell short of his hand by inches. Harry saw it fall, exchanged a startled look with Malfoy, then leaned hard on his broom handle and dove after it.

The wind rushing past his ears as he dove was exhilarating. He kept his focus on the small glass globe, following it down, down...there! He reached out and snatched it out of the air a foot above the grass, yanked his broom up to slow him down, then toppled onto the lawn with the Rememberall in his fist.

Malfoy landed a few feet away as the rest of the class surrounded him. Ron was grinning. "That was brilliant!"

"Mr. Potter!"

Harry felt his heart drop to his shoes, his mood falling as fast as the dive he'd just pulled out of. Professor McGonnagall was hurrying across the grass toward him, a scowl on her face. "Mr. Potter! What in heaven's name do you think you were doing?! Do you have any idea how close you came to breaking your neck?"

"Ah..." Harry couldn't think of anything to say. "Err..."

Ron shouldered up. "It wasn't his fault. Malfoy..."

"That's enough out of you, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter...come with me. At once. The rest of you...don't move." She glowered at them, then walked away. Harry followed her, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat.

He'd finally found something he was good at, and now he was in trouble. He wondered who was going to handle his detention and how bad it would be. Or maybe McGonnagall would simply expel him. His heart was thumping painfully against his ribs, and the broom felt like lead in his hand as McGonnagall stopped in front of the door to the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom. Harry wondered if she was going to assign him to Quirrell for detention.

McGonnagall knocked, then opened the door. "Excuse me, Professor Quirrell, might I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Harry swallowed hard, wondering if Wood was a cane she was going to strike him with, or some magical punishment device he'd never heard of before.

Instead, a well built older boy emerged into the corridor and shut the door behind him. "Professor?"

McGonnagall gestured. "Harry Potter, this is Oliver Wood, fifth year, and Captain of the Quidditch team. Oliver..." McGonnagall's face lit with a gleeful expression that reminded Harry of people he'd seen getting Christmas presents. "I've found you a Seeker."

Oliver's face lit up in an equal expression. "Have you?"

"You should have seen it!" McGonnagall looked at Harry. "Potter, have you flown much?"

Harry shook his head, but he was starting to feel calmer. It didn't seem, from their faces, that he was going to get expelled. "That was my first time."

McGonnagall looked as if someone had told her she'd won the House Cup. "First time, and he caught that little bauble in his hand after a dive that Charlie Weasley couldn't have matched. It was astonishing! You'd never believe he hadn't been flying for years!" She clapped her hands together.

Wood circled Harry, staring at him the way school coaches did when picking teams in his earlier schools. "He's got the right build for Seeker, all right, small and light. He'll need a decent broom, a Comet 360 or a Nimbus 2000, and a bit of training up, but if he's that good, we'll make a capital Seeker out of him." he stopped, and focused on Harry's face. "Know anything about Quidditch, Potter?"

Harry flushed. "No. Sorry."

"Not a problem. Meet me at the pitch tonight after dinner, and I'll go over the rules and test your skills a wee bit." Wood's focus switched to the Professor. "Professor, if you could book the pitch for us tonight, so I can take young Harry out for a bit of practice..."

"Of course. I'll see Madam Hootch directly." McGonnagall rubbed her hands together. "Finally, a decent Seeker. We were positively flattened in that last match against Slytherin, couldn't look Professor Snape in the face for weeks..." She broke off, looking mildly flustered. "Well then...Potter, meet Wood on the pitch after dinner."

Harry nodded. "Yes, Professor." He wasn't going to be expelled. Or even get detention, apparently. His heart felt lighter.

"All right then. Both of you, off to class." Wood nodded and ducked back into the Defense classroom. Harry turned to leave, only to be stopped by McGonnagall. "Potter..."

"Yes ma'am?" He turned back.

McGonnagall wore an expression that would have been fierce if her eyes hadn't been sparkling so much. "I've waived your punishment, but in return I fully expect you to live up to my endorsement of you. It's been a hundred years since a First Year was put on a House team, so don't disappoint me."

Harry swallowed hard. But at least he thought he could keep this promise. "Yes ma'am. I'll do my best, Professor."

"See that you do." A smile broke across her stern features. "And good luck, Mister Potter."

"Thank you." Harry watched his teacher turn and walk away, then turned to head back outside, his head spinning with everything that had happened. Youngest player in a century. Not punished, but given a special spot on the Quidditch team. And Malfoy, apologizing. He wondered what Ron was going to think of it all.

Author's Note: So...what did you think? I did borrow some quotes for Harry's part from J.K. Rowling.

I know it might seem a little out of character for Severus to tell Lucius his worst memory. But it's not actually all that much of a secret, as it was a public incident. Besides...he does need to work past it, and Lucius will help. Besides, this Lucius Malfoy has mellowed, due to the greater understanding of Muggle culture and lower class concerns, and of Severus himself. There's more mutual respect, and trust, on both their parts.