The Best Revenge
Chapter 18
"You might as well have put a notice in the Daily Prophet, Albus," Snape remarked acidly. "Philosopher's Stone on display at Hogwarts: Dark Lords wanted, no appointment necessary."
Dumbledore moved his sherbet lemon around in his mouth, eyes raised in bliss. "The Stone is perfectly safe."
"Perhaps it is," Snape replied stiffly. "The students, however, are not. Why in the world would you keep such an object in a school full of children? How can it be safer there than in Gringotts?"
"Actually," Dumbledore said, with that I-know-far-more-than-you look that Snape detested, "there was a break-in at Gringotts this very afternoon. Very fortunately, the vault in question had been emptied just an hour before. Lucky, that."
"If you hadn't sent Hagrid to Diagon Ally, where he regaled the regulars at the Leaky Cauldron with tales of his' important Hogwarts business,'" Snape pointed out, "no one would have even known it was there." After a moment, he asked, "I suppose the culprit was not apprehended at the scene?"
Dumbledore's sphinx-like smile told Snape everything he needed to know. The potions master rose and stared into the fire, trying to calm himself. He growled, "Very well, the bait is offered. You believe something will come of it."
"I know it will. Now is the time, Severus. We can stop him before anyone else even knows he's back."
"The boy is somehow involved in your scheme."
"You disapprove, but it is his destiny." More gravely, Dumbledore added, "If all goes well, Harry will profit the most."
"As he profited from his upbringing with the Dursleys?"
"I didn't know about the cupboard, Severus. I am very sorry. However, Minerva tells me that the two of you have arranged Harry's new quarters most charmingly and that he is delighted with them. I think it splendid that his first experiences with magic are so benign--so positive. He is well on his way to learning to love magic and our magical world. His relatives will exert no counterinfluence."
Snapes forehead ached with the intensity of his frown. "Was that your purpose? To assure that the boy felt there was no other option but the wizarding world?"
Dumbledore gazed back at him without apology. "Harry is very important, Severus. We lose so many of our muggleborn--so many of our muggle-raised, too. Our little world is sometimes too narrow for them. They have family and friends they cannot abandon--they have interests and pastimes we cannot offer. It may seem cruel--" He winced, and then nodded. "Yes, it was cruel. A cruel necessity, I swear to you. We cannot lose Harry. His fate and Voldemort's are inseparably enmeshed."
Snape slapped his hand against the unyielding stone of the wall. "He has already lost his parents, his fortune, and his home! Will you not be satisfied until you have his life as well?"
"Your concern does you credit, Severus. If all goes well--and I am relying on you to see that it does--he will be safe. I have given great thought to the matter, and I believe the plan I've devised will contain Voldemort without necessitating--" He paused. "Well, enough of that. Tell me of your day. I can only imagine how overjoyed Hagrid was to see him after so long."
Irritated at the change of subject, and even more at Dumbledore's evasiveness, Snape decided to be difficult. "Oh, certainly. He nearly smothered the boy. Perhaps Poppy should examine him for cracked ribs. Harry seemed glad to meet another admirer, though of course Hagrid was hardly the first. The Longbottom boy literally ran into him at the bootmaker's."
Dumbledore's eyes brightened. "Ah! Young Neville! How was he? Did he and Harry seem to get on?"
"As to your first: he's a timid, harried creature, entirely crushed under the weight of family expecta--no, make that lack of expectations. I overheard Longbottom telling Harry that his family thought him a squib, and that he had never spoken to another boy before. How is he to cope at Hogwarts?" Before Dumbledore could utter the unwanted, smiling reassurance, Snape hurried on. "And did they get on? Harry certainly seemed to wish to protect him from his family, but I cannot say if they will be friends. Neither of them has much experience in making them," he added, with a faint sneer in the Headmaster's direction. "However, Harry did get on rather well with Draco Malfoy. They met at Flourish and Blotts. Narcissa was so insistent that we join them for lunch. Harry had never been to such a place as Summerisle's and seemed to like it very much."
A look of disappointment. "Was that wise, Severus? You would expose Harry to their influence?"
By now thoroughly roused, Snape threw himself into the chair opposite Dumbledore and glared at him. "You seem to think that Harry is some sort of tabula rasa, some empty vessel waiting to be filled. He may be your only concern, but I have others as well. You are worried about Draco's influence on Harry. Well, I'm not. Harry recognized instantly that Draco is absurdly full of himself--'as spoiled as Dudley,' were his exact words, though he added, 'but he's not nasty to me.' No, indeed! The influence I saw at lunch was that of Harry on Draco. You may care nothing for my Slytherins, but I do. I saw that Draco wanted Harry to think well of him. I saw Draco refrain from using the word 'mudblood' in Harry's presence. If he can exert that kind of influence, I can only say I wish Harry would be sorted into Slytherin."
He saw Dumbledore about to speak, and gestured for another moment to have his say. "Not that I think he will. He's had to lie and sneak about to survive among the Dursleys, but that's not all there is to Slytherin. Harry so far has no great ambitions. I have told him that I will pleased with his sorting as long as he is, and I further assured him that his mother would want him to be in the house to which he best suited. I cannot speak for his father," Snape sneered. "I suspect he would have been as obnoxious on the subject as Madam Longbottom and her idiot brother. They seemed only too eager to make their own charge feel a failure if he's not a Gryffindor."
"I am sorry to hear that," Dumbledore said mildly. "Augusta was a good mother to Frank, but time and events, it seems, have been perhaps too much for her."
"I hope you are not about to add 'she's not the only one.'" Snape got up and paced restlessly. "To be perfectly candid, Harry was very taken with Narcissa. She pointed out their family relationship. She was kind to him, and he clearly responded to an attractive woman mothering him a little. And she too refrained from the usual pureblood rant. Has it occurred to you how remarkable that is? Simply not saying certain things--understanding that they are not acceptable in certain situations--is a step toward not saying them in any situation."
"Possibly," Dumbledore allowed. "I would never accuse Narcissa of being socially inept, however. But Lucius--"
"--Yes, Lucius could be dangerous. However, I believe he could be neutralised somewhat if Draco regards Harry as a friend. Ultimately, the Malfoys are for the Malfoys. They will do what they must for influence, for money, for power. Harry Potter has tremendous personal prestige. Lucius is perfectly capable of holding his nose and tolerating a halfblood 'Cousin Harry' in order to appropriate a little of that prestige for himself."
"I do understand your views," Dumbledore said patiently. "And furthermore, I agree that the longer Lucius were to tolerate Harry, the harder it would be for him to disassociate himself later. That could be all to the good in the long run--as long as all goes well this year."
"Yes!" Snape paused. "Which brings me to something very alarming. I saved the important item for last."
Dumbledore inclined his head, inviting Snape to continue.
Snape looked at him, eyes hooded in suspicion , and abruptly asked, "What's the matter with Quirrell?"
"I don't quite understand you, dear boy."
Snape did not inform Dumbledore that he had long ago twigged to the fact that "dear boy," was Dumbledore's "tell:" the proof positive that he was evading or obfuscating or outright lying. It was too useful to give away. He simply said, "The stammer? He never had one before."
"I believe his experiences in the Balkans were stressful."
"The purple turban?"
"An amusing souvenir."
"The pervasive odor of garlic?"
"A lingering dread of vampires."
Snape drilled Dumbledore with a gimlet stare. "And what about the fact that not ten seconds after meeting him, Harry screamed with pain, clutched at his scar, and fainted?"
"Oh, dear."
Somewhat later, Snape made his way down to his own quarters, thoroughly perturbed. Quirrell was clearly the Dark Lord's agent--though Albus hinted at something worse. It was intolerable that he was allowed into Hogwarts. It was intolerable that he was permitted to be a teacher. It was intolerable that such a man should be Harry's first instructor in Defense against the Dark Arts.
What had happened to Quirrell? He was a bright fellow, and might not have been an entirely hopeless choice for the Defense position, had things been otherwise. Snape recalled the scholarly, earnest, rather pleasant young man who had left Hogwarts last year for foreign parts. They had been distantly cordial, and had even played chess on occasion. The night before his departure, he had sat in Snape's quarters, drinking his whisky, talking about his longing for adventure. Unfortunately, it seemed he had had one.
Well, no more whisky for him, Snape decided.
A letter, folded and sealed, lay on his writing desk, where he told the elves to put everything that came to him by owl. Snape examined it cautiously before breaking the seal.
My dear Severus--
A letter from Lucius Malfoy, in that wizard's bold and elegant hand.
Narcissa is sitting beside me as I write, still waxing lyrical about your "delightful" charge. I congratulate you, my good friend, on such a coup! Wizarding proxy for Harry Potter! Quite ingenious. I bow before your resourcefulness, in using such an obscure statute to obtain the de facto guardianship of the celebrated hero of our world.
Draco, too, was very pleased with young Potter, mentioning his pleasant demeanour, unexceptionable appearance, and love of pudding equal to Draco's own. His only fault, it appears, is his lamentable ignorance of the glories of quidditch. Narcissa, on the other hand, is concerned that he is perhaps a bit "delicate," and in need of a woman's touch. I translate that as a desire to cram him full of sweets. A harmless enough ambition, surely.
In short, they feel that nothing will do but to invite the estimable Mr Harry Potter to Malfoy Manor. And he must come today, or at the very least, tomorrow!
Realising that this might be somewhat unreasonable, I request the honour of your presence, and that of your ward, on Friday. As Draco wishes for him to be given a flying lesson, perhaps it would be best if you come around three. The boys can enjoy themselves in the garden, have a short flight, an alfresco tea, and then have some time to become better acquainted before dinner at--let us say seven o'clock, in deference to Mr Potter's youth.
Does the day suit? Do let me know, as my loving family will give me no peace until everything is settled. And I confess myself curious about this boy, this very remarkable boy, this Boy-Who-Lived.
L
Snape blew out a breath and slumped in his chair, feeling as though another weight had been piled on his shoulders. Lucius, too? Well, it was no more than he had expected. He had expected it, in fact, from the moment Narcissa had set her violet-blue eyes on Harry in Diagon Alley. Everything was moving a little faster than he had hoped, especially with the ominous addition of the Quirrell enigma.
It would be foolish to offend Lucius by begging off with feeble excuses. The boys got on well enough. Dinner at Malfoy Manor was always worthwhile, now that Abraxas Malfoy was confined to his chambers. That was a mystery in itself, though Snape had no desire to question Lucius about his father's "illness." Abraxas Malfoy had become very odd in the past few years, so odd that his behavior in public could no longer be hushed up or excused by great wealth. Lucius had seized control of the family interests and had locked the old man up behind wards rivaling those of Gringotts. A good thing, too, in Snapes opinion. Abraxas had never failed to insult Snape every time they met.
Let him rot, the rude old bugger.
Besides, he might get a look-in at the library, and that rare volume of Paracelsus...
He found a clean sheet of parchment and scratched a brief acceptance.
Lucius--
Friday at three is quite convenient. Thank you for the invitation. Mr Potter is partial to treacle tart.
S
He smirked. Not the sort of intelligence Lucius was looking for, he supposed. It would do Lucius good to have to wait for what he wanted, for a change. He must warn Harry to be careful about giving too much information, without making the boy anxious and uncomfortable.
He was distracted from his thoughts by a green face in his fireplace. It was Minerva.
"Severus? Are you back?"
"As you see."
"May I come through? I have something for you."
He waved at her impatiently, not in the mood for company, but resigned to it. Besides, it might do him good to vent, and Minerva was not too pleased with Albus herself at the moment.
She bustled in, smiling, her hands full of what appeared to be papers.
"When I went through my old photographs, I found a picture of the Potters' wedding, and one taken just before they went into hiding. I made copies. I thought Harry could add them to his album."
He gestured her into the chair beside him and dutifully took the first picture.
There they were, the Holy Trinity from the odious statue. Potter, thankfully, had eyes only for the baby in Lily's arms, and Snape could ignore him. Harry was a pink little thing, apparently sound asleep. Lily, serenely happy, looked out at Snape and gave him a gentle smile.
He sighed. It was a painful reminder of the last time he had seen Lily in life. The Potters had been in Diagon Alley, only a day or two before they disappeared into the dubious safety of Dumbledore's cottage. Lily was holding her child, who was all but concealed by a fluffy red blanket, save for a tuft of dark hair. Lily was wearing a brown cloak lined with lavender silk. Locks of flaming hair whipped in the wind. She had not seen Snape, skulking in the shadows. The baby mewed, and Lily looked down at him, her face filled with unbearable tenderness...
Minerva shoved another picture at him. "And this, too. I'm sure hell be glad to have it."
Lily and James on their wedding day. Snape scowled at James Potter, the smug bridegroom, and forced himself to say, "Yes. The two pictures will round out his family history quite well."
With suspicious mildness, she handed him a third, larger picture. "And this is for you."
It was a full-length photograph of Lily alone, dressed in her full wedding regalia. Lily was quite beautiful in the picture, glowing with happiness. Her wedding robes veiled her slender body like wisps of scudding cloud in high summer. Her jewels sparkled no more brightly than her eyes. She was fair and queenly to behold, and no witch in the world was her equal.
He stared at it for some time, deciding where to take it to be fittingly framed.
"Thank you," he finally managed.
"You're very welcome. I'm sure she would like you to have it. I'm very proud of you, Severus. Very proud of how you've put the past behind you and taken charge of Harry."
He shook his head. "I can never put it behind me. Don't you see? It's all because of the past. I know you all think I've been childish, holding on to my grudge against Potter, but Harry is not his father."
"Childish? No. Though sometimes..." She looked away, lost in thought. "Sometimes one must be a parent, in order to leave off being a child." More briskly, she said, ""Nonetheless--it was a lucky day when you spotted that address and dealt with that dreadful situation. I shudder to think what problems Harry would have had at school if you hadn't!"
Carefully setting the picture aside, Snape sat back to throw his bombshell at Minerva. "He'll still have his share of problems, thanks to Albus!" Briefly, he told her of the meeting with Quirrell and Harry's startling reaction.
Minerva seemed very grieved. "I can't believe it! Quirinius was always so sensible--so--"
"Decent? Well, whatever he was, he isn't anymore. I'll keep my eye on him. And of course Hagrid piqued his interest. Harry and I saw Quirrell following him to Gringotts. He certainly must have guessed that Hagrid was either depositing or removing the Stone. Albus says that the vault was broken into later today, so he knows it was removed. As it was, in Hagrid's words, 'important Hogwarts business,' he knows where it is now."
"Stealing it for himself would be shocking enough," Minerva considered. "But for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? It's horrible. I can't understand Albus at all these days. He says he has a plan, but he wont tell me specifics. He's hinted, though, that he wants me to design some sort of magical challenge as a protection. I daresay he'll ask you the same."
"But why? Why not simply ward the Stone impenetrably? Why not hide the wretched thing? Why borrow it from Flamel at all? I tell you Minerva, this is some scheme to lure the Dark Lord out of hiding. Albus wants him out of Albania or Outer Mongolia or wherever what's left of him has been lurking. He wants him to come to Hogwarts. And he wants him to come to Hogwarts at the same time Harry Potter is here."
A.N. There will be no slash in this story. There will never be slash in this story. In fact, no ships of any tonnage will set sail in this story, since I hope to deal with the Dark Lord before Harry confronts the greater challenge of puberty. Harry Potter marries a brilliant and exotic beauty when he's thirty-three. That's young enough. If witches and wizards live so much longer, surely there's no bloody hurry. He did not go to school with his wife, and she does not resemble his mother, because that would be creepy. Besides, there's no reason he shouldn't have a bit of fun and see the world before settling down to life as a worker bee. Nor do I like the idea of Hermione rushed into marriage too early.
Jodel, who has given me a great deal of good advice and encouragement about this story, holds that Abraxas Malfoy died in Draco's second year at Hogwarts, and that may be the reason why Draco did not go home for Christmas (unpleasant upheaval as the old man was dying). However, Lucius, as we see him at the beginning of that year, appears very much in charge. I am postulating that Abraxas was disabled in his last years, and Lucius had assumed control of the family before his father's death. Draco always boasts of his father, not his grandfather. Abraxas was the Malfoy who joined the family's fortunes to those of Voldemort's. You might make the case that Lucius was in a similar situation to that of Draco, having been brought up to follow the Dark Lord. Not an excuse, of course, but a reason.
Harold Ancell has put together a very useful spreadsheet of Harry's child benefits, showing rates over time and cumulative values. The Dursleys did quite well from Harry's residence with them. Then there are also the Guardian Allowance monies and the tax breaks from having another dependent in the house. If you are interested in his findings, let me know and I will forward them to you. I am still working on adding material to my website, and expect that to be up with a link at the end of the week. I will attempt to post the spreadsheet there.
07/02/09 Please go to my author's page for the link. I've revised the look of some of my fanfiction and posted some illustrations for my stories.