Chapter 9
Severus startled at the loud crack of Apparition that seemed to thunder through his room, then he stared in utter disbelief at the strange creature standing next to his bed. It was short, not more than two feet tall, with large bat-like ears, enormous green eyes, and wrinkled skin. A tuft of wiry grey hair crowned its head. It was a house-elf.
He knew them from school; they worked in the kitchens and cleaned the common rooms. However, Severus had never been eye to eye with one yet.
Fortunately his father wasn't at home. He'd throw a tantrum if he ever found a magical creature within his house. Tobias Snape didn't like magic much. Well, to be honest, he didn't like anything much- except for his booze.
The house-elf bowed deeply, glanced around the room and wrinkled its long nose with disdain. Apparently it reeked of Muggle in here. Then it thwacked its head on the linoleum floor once, before speaking in a squeaky voice.
"Master sends this to lowly scum-" the house-elf banged its head against the wooden frame of Severus' bed now, "to his dear friend."
Producing a parcel from out of nowhere, the elf placed it next to Severus and waited for him to open it.
"Um... thank you."
"Tufty lives to serve."
As Severus opened the parcel, his glance fell briefly on a book sitting beside his bed. A Muggle book about a fictional world called Middle-earth, where elves differed so totally from what was reality in the wizarding world, that only a Muggle could have come up with such a fair, noble and highly sophisticated folk... and call them elves. He wouldn't have read that nonsense, if Lestrange hadn't insisted, thinking it a masterpiece of literature.
The parcel contained dress robes of the finest quality. Severus swallowed hard. First, he thought about not accepting this gift because he was not a charity case. He'd tell Tufty to stuff them up its wrinkled arse and take them back to Lucius. Then he reconsidered it and reminded himself that he could hardly go to Lucius Malfoy's wedding wearing his school robes. The Malfoys were one of the richest and most respectable pure-blood families, and it always made him dizzy with wonder, bringing the fact to mind that Lucius had invited him- a half-blood from a lousy, low-class family.
It was a privilege to receive an invitation. All the really influential people would be there, and Severus wouldn't waste his chance because he was too proud to accept a well-meant gift. To hell with dignity! He wanted to belong to the wizarding society, he wanted to have a better life, fame and fortune and all such things. If only he met the right people and proved himself worthy, if he became important and gained some influence, then Lily would look at him with different eyes.
Also, HE might be there. The very person that even Lucius Malfoy spoke about with awe, full of respect and adoration. A mighty wizard known by the name Lord Voldemort, who wanted to revolutionize the wizarding word. He claimed that the wizarding race was superior to Muggles, and Severus agreed to that statement. Thinking of his father, then this Voldemort guy was definitely right, and besides, he hadn't met a decent Muggle yet. Well, Lily's parents were quite nice, but her sister Tuney was a real pain in the ass.
Severus got dressed. There was no mirror in his room, nevertheless he knew he looked decent enough because the dress robe was the finest thing he had every worn. Black velvet with dark green trimmings at the cuffs, the collar and the hem, and the clasps had the shape of little snakes, gleaming silvery even in the dim twilight of his room.
"You is ready finally?" Tufty spoke in his squeaky voice. "Hurry, hurry, half-blood."
The house-elf touched his robes and an instant later the world began to spin. Severus saw his room blur into nothingness and he felt an unpleasant squeezing sensation as if he was being sent through some sort of a tube; it reminded him of the Side-Along Apparition his mother used when she took him to Diagon Alley to buy his school supplies.
With a loud crack they re-materialized in a park- no, it was actually a garden, Severus realized; a very large garden. There were arcades of white roses, and boxwood manicured to look like dragons; there were sparkling fountains and columned marble pavilions. Wizards and witches wearing their finest robes were strolling all around.
"Master, Tufty brings half-blood wedding guest," the house-elf said and Severus whirled around to find himself face to face with Lucius Malfoy. Fortunately he remembered just in time to shut his gaping mouth since he did not want to appear like an awe-stuck fool. It was hard though, because he had just spotted the grandiose manor house towering behind Lucius. Also, Lucius was dressed in light silvery grey robes that were glimmering with diamonds, looking rather impressive.
Malfoy had been talking to two elderly wizards before Tufty had interrupted him. Now he kicked the house-elf and hissed, "make yourself useful, you lazy creature," while smiling politely at his newly arrived guest.
"Severus! I'm glad you could make it. Please meet my father, Abraxas Malfoy, and my father-in-law, Cygnus Black. Father, Cygnus, may I introduce Severus Snape to you? He is a very promising young Slytherin."
"Pleased to meet you," Severus said and managed to sound only a tad awkward. He blushed with shame, though, wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him because he had no clue about the proper demeanour in the presence of two so very distinguished pure-bloods. After all, Lucius' father was very high up in the ranks of the Ministry and the Blacks were considered wizarding royalty.
"Snape." Mr Black scrutinized him from head to toe, and Severus knew that the older wizard was just recalling a whole forest of family trees in his mind's eye without ever finding a Snape in any of them. His tainted blood was rushing to his cheeks again.
"My mother is a Prince," Severus blurted out.
"Ah, a little half-blood." The hand, that Black was about to reach out in a welcoming gesture, was withdrawn as though he feared he would soil it by touching a half-blood. "Well then, Mr Snape, you will be delighted to find many of your house mates here."
He knew when he was being dismissed. Severus took a deep breath and walked away to take a closer look at his surroundings. So that was how pure-bloods lived. Compared to Malfoy Manor, his own home appeared like a kennel, a dunghill even amongst Muggles. He felt strangely aware of his robes- although they were the finest he had ever worn, they still seemed plain when he glanced at the other wedding guests and their festive attire adorned with sparkling gemstones. Severus didn't know any of them, but some faces looked slightly familiar to him; he realized he must have seen their pictures in the Daily Prophet. There were Ministry officials and famous Quidditch players, and there was- Severus stood rooted to the spot- Sirius Black!
What the fuck was he doing here? James-bloody-Potter's best mate and one quarter of the infernal Gryffindor gang that made his life a hell at Hogwarts. Where were his blasted cronies?
"Snivellus!"
His nemesis noticed him the very same moment Severus spotted him. Almost instinctively, Severus' fingers reached for his wand and tightened around it, ready to strike back should the necessity arise.
"Black," he hissed.
The pretty boy wasn't looking quite as arrogant as he usually did, and that made Severus grin ever so slightly. Without the backup of his fellow Gryffindor miscreants, Sirius Black was still a git but not a threat- actually, he even appeared a tad lost. And the best was yet to come.
"SIRIUS!" A witch shrieked.
Black's shoulders seemed to slump when- like a harridan let loose- said witch came hurrying over to painfully twist her wayward offspring' ear.
She must have been rather pretty once, and there were still traces of the trademark good looks of the Blacks visible in her features, although her face was contorted with anger. It was so priceless to witness Sirius Black being chastised by his mother, that Severus almost cheered for her.
Walburga Black dragged her eldest son away before he could hex anyone out of pure spite or momentary boredom. Then she screamed, "Kreacher!"
An aged house-elf with watery grey eyes and a snout-like nose popped up from out of thin air. It bowed to kiss the hem of his mistress' very elegant dress robes. "Dear mistress called? How can Kreacher serve dear mistress?"
Unlike other house-elves, this one had a deep bullfrog voice.
"Stay with... him." Mrs Black pointed disgustedly at Sirius. "Oh woe is me for all the pain I endured by delivering this useless scum. What a shame! He isn't worthy to be called my son! Keep a sharp eye on him and make certain he behaves accordingly to his upbringing! Don't let him embarrass the noble house of Black with his quirks!"
"Poor Kreacher," Regulus Black commented that scene, turning back to his house mates. Those who had expected a fight were looking slightly disappointed now.
"You pity a house-elf for doing his duty?" A burly, dirty-blond haired bloke asked incredulously.
"Wilkes, if his duty has to do with babysitting my Gryffindork brother, then- yes." Regulus replied smugly, and some of his comrades even laughed about that. But the fact was, he liked Kreacher. The old house-elf was not only a loyal servant, he had also become a trusted confidant ever since Sirius' rebellious streak had driven a wedge between the two brothers. Nevertheless, Regulus would never admit how much he sometimes missed his older brother...
"Well, a little duel would have been to my liking," another Slytherin said. "After all, it was just Snape..."
The Slytherin boys chuckled- Severus wasn't very popular among his peers- but all of a sudden Avery interjected, "Mates, let him be. You know what Lucius said."
"Yeah, but only because he's supposed to help us pass our OWLs doesn't mean we have to like him, do we? Besides, methinks Malfoy is losing it. Can you believe he actually put an age-restriction ban on Firewhiskey?"
The boys laughed hard at that complaint. Evan Rosier pointed out scathingly that Lucius Malfoy must have had very good reasons for banning Firewhiskey, knowing Mulciber was invited. "...after all, he wants to wed today! I doubt he's keen on drunken boys spoiling the ceremony because they can't hold their drinks."
His statement led to an animated discussion between the elder and the younger Slytherins, but their casual banter ended when Snape joined the group.
Severus knew they had been talking about him. He was still the outsider in Slytherin house, no matter that Lucius had arranged some sort of friendship between him, Avery and Mulciber. It merely served the purpose that those pure-blooded sluggards were to get a chance to pass their OWLs, although he wouldn't even call them his new study partners since it wasn't required of them that they studied hard- no, all they had to do was to copy Severus' essays. Or, to be more precise, most of the time he copied his essays for them because they were too busy with other things. It was tedious work until somehow, very mysteriously, a Quick-Quotes Quill had found its way into his possession. He suspected it was Lestrange's doing, but he had no proof for this assumption and she was quite good at feigning innocence.
He also had no clue as to why Lucius had taken such an interest in him. Of course, he had the best grades in his year- but that still didn't explain why he was here at Malfoy's wedding. The smug smile, caused by having witnessed Sirius Black being henpecked by his mother, faded from his features as he joined his house mates.
Avery patted his shoulder in an attempt to make him feel welcome, and the younger Black made a polite comment about his dress robes. Severus didn't know what to reply since he wasn't very good at socializing or engaging himself in mindless small-talk.
Waiters in neat uniforms of silvery grey silk adorned with sapphires hurried past, offering refreshing drinks from trays that were hovering in the air. His house mates helped themselves to the champagne, but Severus didn't like to drink alcohol- the smell of it reminded him of his father- and that made him an outsider once again.
As time dragged on and everyone was waiting for the ceremony to begin, the temperature was rising above thirty degrees in the shade. This summer had been unusually hot so far and today wasn't any different. Soon the sweat was tickling down Severus' neck and his initial sense of delight about his new dress robes seemed to wane more and more as he realized that black velvet was probably not the best choice to wear on a hot summer day. But he didn't want to complain either. No matter how sweaty and uncomfortable he was feeling, he was still glad that Lucius had presented him with a fine dress robe- and at long last he remembered that casting a cooling charm would be quite helpful indeed.
His house mates were talking about Lord Voldemort now, not hiding their excitement that he might show up here today. Severus listened with interest. Finally, it wasn't all hints and allusions, whispered words that died the moment he entered the Slytherin common room. Today, they spoke openly about the Dark Lord- as they called him- and his Death Eaters; a political group they all seemed eager to join once they left school.
Although Severus had never cared much about politics, the Dark Lords agenda made sense to him-the world would definitely be a much better place if wizards were to rule over Muggles.
"What about you, Snape?" Rosier asked suddenly.
Severus considered the question, carefully weighing his words. Quite frankly, he didn't know if he wanted to join the ranks of a wizard he hadn't even met yet, but fortunately, he was spared to give an answer when that very moment a magically amplified voice rang over the place, announcing that the ceremony was about to begin. Everybody was to take their seats.
He followed his house mates to the far side of the garden (they seemed to know their way around here quite well) and then stood rooted to the spot when he saw what looked like a Roman amphitheatre to him. Rows of benches made of pure white marble led in a semicircle down to a dais decorated with white flowers: roses, lilies and orchids.
Above the amphitheatre was a tented roof of white canvas to provide shade, and it was indeed a pleasure to get out of the sun. Surreptitiously, Severus wiped his sweaty brows with the sleeve of his robe before looking for his seat. Of course there was a strict seating plan, and of course the front rows were reserved for family and friends, or for people that were otherwise highly esteemed in wizarding society. Even the Minister for Magic was there!
While his fellow Slytherins went to sit with their families somewhere further down, Severus called himself lucky to be invited at all and satisfied himself with a seat in the last row. It wasn't that bad, he told himself, at least he could watch everything from high above.
Heaving a sigh he sat down next to an elderly couple. The witch was overweighted, overdressed and wore tons of jewellery. Her husband looked like a stick-figure in comparison to her, for he was as thin as she was fat. And while she had her hair piled up in an extravagant tower of blond ridiculousness, his bald head showed the first signs of a bad sunburn.
A simple ointment of Aloe and Murtlap essence might help, he thought while an invisible orchestra started playing the wedding march, and everybody was suddenly very excited to catch a first glance of the bride. 'Ahs' and 'ohs' erupted from the audience when Narcissa made her appearance.
Cygnus Black couldn't have been prouder than he was this very moment as he walked his beautiful daughter down the aisle, following in the wake of two dozen domesticated fairies throwing pure white petals and glittering dust.
Although Narcissa wasn't the first daughter he gave away, and his Bellatrix had been a stunning bride, too, today was special nevertheless. He had his hopes up high that- finally- he would get to see the birth of a new generation, young wizards and witches to carry on the noble bloodline of his ancestors.
He had found decent matches for both of his daughters. The Lestranges were a well-esteemed wizarding family with a family tree that went back to the seventeenth century (just like his own), and the Malfoys- although they weren't ancient nobility- were of pure blood and extremely rich. Cygnus Black was a lucky man for having wed his daughters so successfully... if only- well, he was a bit disappointed that his eldest had not given him a grandchild yet. Of course he was proud that she was politically involved and had become a loyal follower of Lord Voldemort- whose ideas he absolutely shared, mind, he wasn't complaining about that. But a witch's place should be at her husband's side, and she ought to be content with fulfilling her role in her husband's bedroom instead of drooling over every word the Dark Lord spoke.
Fortunately, his little Cissy was different. She had always been the gentler of the two sisters, not as wild and impetuous as Bella. She would be a good wife to Lucius Malfoy and not forget her place; she would bless her husband with an heir. And then Cygnus Black would finally be able to hold his first grandchild in his arms.
If Cygnus Black hadn't been such a narrow-minded supremacist, he would have known that he was already grandfather- but he had blasted his second daughter's name off the family tree and wished not to be reminded of the scandal Andromeda had caused by running away with a Mudblood, a Muggleborn wizard. Therefore he was not aware of his little grand-daughter.
Severus didn't even realize he was holding his breath, but Narcissa looked so absolutely stunning that he was probably not the only one who forgot to breathe at her sight. Lucius was such a lucky devil!
Narcissa was wearing a pretty white dress made of silk and lace, not too posh and not too plain either, but it accentuated her slender figure quite nicely. Her lovely blond hair fell in curly cascades over her bare shoulders, while her her face was hidden behind a thin veil.
He watched the bride walking down the aisle at the arm of her proud father, eager to join her groom. Although this marriage was arranged, Lucius had nevertheless managed to win dear Narcissa's heart and was madly in love with her. And while the ministry official held a very long speech about the nature of marriage, Severus started daydreaming...
He saw himself standing in Lucius' place, and his bride was walked up to him. Cygnus Black's face morphed into the features of John Evans leading a veiled beauty up to him. Upon lifting her veil, cascades of long, dark red hair were sparkling like fire in the sunshine, and her emerald eyes were looking at him in adoration as she softly spoke her vows of love, making him the happiest person on earth...
Lily!
There would never be another witch for him.
His reverie was interrupted by the loud cheers of the audience as Lucius and Narcissa finally exchanged their vows, and a shower of silvery stars was raining down on their entwined hands.
Then they kissed, and everybody clapped their hands. Another union between two pure-blood families was successfully sealed, another bond woven.
Meanwhile, the fair-weather clouds were getting denser and darker; an eerie greenish gloom was in the air. The crowd didn't seem to notice. They were queuing to offer their best wishes to the newly wed couple, and so did Severus.
The humidity increased. By the time Severus was finally standing in front of Lucius and Narcissa to stammer his congratulation, he looked rather dishevelled. His face was sweaty with red blotches, due to the heat, and his lanky hair was glued to his skull. He knew he was a mess. Nevertheless, Narcissa smiled kindly and told him it was a pleasure to have him here. Lucius nodded confirmatory.
After the reception, the sound of music rang from yet another part of the vast garden. Severus had already spotted the dance floor before he'd run into Sirius Black; it was also made of white marble. Next to it was another pavilion for the orchestra. Columns carried an arched roof on which statues of magical beasts sat. Their eyes were shining as brightly as Muggle spotlights in a discotheque, illuminating the dance floor.
Lucius and Narcissa danced their first waltz as newly wed couple. It looked very graceful, almost effortless to Severus, who chose to remain in the background when by and by some other couples joined them on the dance floor. Of course he knew his behaviour was somewhat ridiculous, since none of the wedding guests would have asked him for a dance anyway, therefore he was in no danger of making a fool of himself. Or having to admit that he wasn't as versed in the fine art of ballroom dances as some of his house mates were. Well, actually, he didn't know how to dance at all...
"Hello, Snape," Regulus Black piped up next to him, so Severus turned his head to see what the boy might be wanting. They weren't chummy. In fact, Severus couldn't even remember to ever have talked to Regulus, who strongly believed in the supremacy of his blood and was probably just as arrogant as his older brother.
"He's there," Regulus whispered, pointing to a group of wizards that were standing in a remote corner offside the festivities. It looked like a secret gathering.
Of course, Lucius stood out in his shimmering silver-grey robes, but so did also another wizard, although he was clad in black. That one was tall and thin. It wasn't his built, though, that made Severus stare at him; it was his... air. He radiated power.
"The Dark Lord." Regulus breathed, full of awe. Needless to say that that was a rather pointless statement since Severus had already figured out that much.
In silent agreement, the two boys moved closer to the group of wizards around Lord Voldemort, like a pair of moths attracted to light. They couldn't hear what they were talking about, but all of a sudden the Dark Lord was looking at him, although Severus hadn't noticed him move or even turn his head.
His instincts told him to run, but he didn't. Instead, he stood rooted to the spot like a deer caught in the headlight. Gaunt skin was stretched over a skull that was only vaguely human, and yet Voldemort's facial bones showed signs of former attractiveness. Now, however, it looked more like a mask- as if his flesh had melted and formed a new structure without bothering to keep to the rules of nature. His nose was as flat as those of a serpent, is lips were practically non-existent... and therefore even more disturbing when they twitched ever so slightly into the cruel perversion of a smile. It was unnerving. But what held Severus truly transfixed were his eyes. There was something snakelike about the Dark Lord's eyes- and the way he was looking not only at him but deeper, more like looking inside him, made him feel vulnerable and strangely exposed. As if those bloodshot eyes, shining with cold intelligence, knew all about him and what was going on in his head.
Severus averted his gaze. Involuntarily, he shuddered- but on the other hand he was still utterly fascinated by the Dark Lord's magical power.
"Ah, the young ones," Voldemort's voice almost chilled him to the bone. It was as cold as his eyes, a high-pitched hiss. "Lucius, don't you want to introduce me?"
"Yes, my Lord. Of course, my Lord."
It was the first time ever Severus witnessed the usually cocksure Lucius Malfoy sounding so reverential and... nervous... almost scared.
Severus thought it a wise idea to bow low when Lucius told Voldemort his name, hoping the Dark Lord wouldn't recognize immediately that he was just a lowly half-blood. And although he admired the mighty wizard for his power, and wished to be found worthy of joining his ranks- because He could give him what he yearned for, an unspoken promise of recognition, fortune and fame- he didn't want Him to go rummaging through his mind again; it was an eerie sensation....
Voldemort made an impatient gesture and cut off Lucius before he could go on bragging about Severus' accomplishments for Slytherin house. Apparently, the Dark Lord knew already everything he wanted to know, and therefore Severus was dismissed with a cold glance of those red, slitted, reptile-like eyes.
He almost breathed a sigh of relief that it was over. Nevertheless, he would have liked to stay.
"Now, that went quite well, didn't it?"
Regulus again! Why wouldn't the boy leave him alone?
"I suppose so." Severus drawled, not even glancing at the lad as he recalled the meeting in his mind's eye. Then he realized that if he wanted to join the ranks of the Dark Lord, if he wanted to get his share of the power He promised, he would have to be more agreeable towards those who were already in a better position due to their blood status. That meant, he had better get along with Regulus and play nice. Also, the little Black might be able to appease his inquisitive mind about that eerie feeling of the Lord Voldemort snooping through his head.
"It was weird, though. The Dark Lord looked at me and seemed to know my darkest secrets," he wondered aloud.
"Oh, that! Legilimency- the ability to delve into another one's mind in order to extract emotions and memories. Of course, that branch of magic, commonly called the Mind Arts, isn't taught at Hogwarts. Dumbledore considers it somewhat obscure, although he is a skilled Legilimens. That's why cousin Bella promised to teach me Occlumency. You know, the opposite of Legilimency- shielding your mind against external penetration. She says, at a school run by a Muggle-loving traitor like Dumbledore, every Slytherin ought to learn Occlumency. We have to defend our ideals and our cause."
Legilimency. Occlumency. Mind Arts. Obscure branch of magic... all that sparked Severus' interest. Naturally, he couldn't hope for anyone to teach him these skills since he didn't have a cousin Bella. His only magical relative was a useless witch called mother, who couldn't even defend herself against her abusive Muggle husband. But she had quite an interesting library at home- books about magic and potions she kept hidden behind her clothes in the wardrobe (she also kept her wand there, most of the time), so perhaps he might find a book about the Mind Arts there.
Just a little later it was time for all underage wizards and witches to leave the festivities at Malfoy Manor and return to their homes. Usually, Lucius didn't care about things as trivial as curfew when he was throwing a party, and he would have liked to bend the rules for tonight as well, since it was his wedding party. Alas, there were many Ministry officials among the guests, and they were known to being sticklers for principles.
Severus bid a curt farewell to Regulus when Tufty, the house-elf, appeared at his side to take him back home. Home was a Muggle dunghill reeking of misery and poverty, called Spinner's End. He so hoped his father was asleep by now and didn't notice him walking in.
But like so many other things in Severus' life, that was wishful thinking. The very moment he stealthily opened the door in order to tiptoe to the stairs leading to his room, a bright flash illuminated the poor living room where his father was snoring on the sofa, probably sleeping it off. The roaring sound of thunder woke him.
Yawning and stretching his limbs, Tobias Snape sat up and ran lazy fingers through his messy hair that was so much like his son's- black and lank. At first, he appeared a tad disorientated, but then his gaze fell on Severus.
"Oi!" He shouted, his brows furrowed. "Boy! Wot yeh doin', sneakin' rown eyer? Why're yeh still up?"
Severus stopped and turned around to face the man who had fathered him, thinking about drawing his wand- just in case. He would not allow that useless Muggle to beat him ever again.
"Woss' at yer wearin?" Tobias slurred, rubbing his eyes.
"It's called robes, father." Severus almost spat the last word; to him, it was an empty phrase without any meaning. All he wanted was to scurry up to his room and been left alone so he could think about today's events in private.
"Gimme none o' ya cheek, lad. Where've ya been? 'N does ya muvver know 'bout it?"
Since when does mother care about what I'm doing? Severus wondered. He was so really not into having yet another fight with the man who sired him, but he answered honestly, "I have been to the wedding of a friend, and mother would have been invited, too, if not for you."
"Like muvver, like son, eh? Always so fucking elo... el... quenty- bloody sharp tongue an' all ' all that, finkin yer supeerier, don'cher? Better than ol' Toby, workin' 'ard in 'is lousy job t' feed ya, eh? Tell ya what, Sev'rus. Don't ya marry. Do. Not. Fuckin'. Marry. Ever. Ye'll wake up one day an' realize ya wife's a bitch... er, witch... woteva- got it, son?"
Severus stared at his father, slightly bewildered. What the hell was that?
Meanwhile, Tobias Snape had returned to a horizontal position, stretching out on the sofa again. Severus thought that that would be a good moment to bolt up the staircase and lock himself in his room, but when he turned around to do so, Tobias sat up once more. Pointing at the rickety table in front of him.
"Postcard," he mumbled, "there's a postcard for ya. From one o' those weirdos goin' to that freak school o' yors. Posh lit'le girl, eh? Spain... wonder what's wrong wi' spendin' yer hols at a decent bri'ish place."
Severus sped forward to snatch the postcard from the table before his father could continue his ranting, but he wasn't fast enough. Tobias' hand came shooting forward to grab his wrist in a vice-like grip, staring at his son with blood-shot, bleary eyes.
"Promise me sumfin, Sev'us..."
"Anything." He agreed; he just wanted to get away.
"Don't. Ever. Marry. Not a snobby witch like 'er...."
Since he had no intention at all to marry Raven Lestrange- the postcard was from her, of course (she always wrote to him during the summer, mostly postcards from abroad)- Severus gave his consent quite willingly.
"Good boy." Tobias said with a wry smile on his face, before his head grew too heavy for him to keep it upright, and so he rested it on his pillow again. A moment later, he was fast asleep, snoring loudly.
Severus shook his head in disbelief as he finally made his way up the stairs to his room. He still couldn't believe what had just happened, that he'd had the first almost decent conversation with his father in years. Alright, Tobias was drunk again. That was nothing new. Nevertheless, today's state of intoxication seemed to differ from his usual way of letting fists speak when running out of arguments.
He flopped to his bed, the postcard still in his hands, still unread. It wasn't important, at least not in comparison to his meeting with Lord Voldemort, and that he recalled in his mind's eye over and over again until he finally fell asleep.
That night, Severus dreamed of slitted, reptile-like red eyes, snooping shamelessly through his thoughts and feelings, leaving him standing in front of the Dark Lord all bare and vulnerable.
thanks to my wonderful betas, Alabaster Princess and hypnotic ink.