Author's Note 1: Thank you to my beta, aberrantstrain, who gave me detailed feedback on this chapter.

Thank you also to snapeslittleblackbuttons for her review.

This one is a pivotal chapter, so pay careful attention as you read!

Chapter 11: Pot & Kettle

Saturday morning of his second week back at school found Severus eating breakfast in the Great Hall, surrounded by all four of his room mates. He was scooping porridge into a bowl, when an owl dropped the Daily Prophet in front of Damian Wilkes, who was sitting across from him and Evan.

Damian scanned the front page, as he did every morning, then lowered the paper, his brow crinkled. "Hey, Evan, your dad's in the paper this morning. Front page."

Evan looked up from his bangers and mash. "Yeah? Give it here then, let's see."

Damian passed the paper across the table to Evan, who immediately started reading the front page article, Severus peering over his shoulder.

POT AND KETTLE IN HOT WATER

Rita Skeeter

Venerable family-owned business Pot and Kettle yesterday morning announced it will be filing for bankruptcy after suffering staggering losses exceeding 5 million galleons for the 1974 fiscal year. Pot & Kettle, a fixture of Diagon Alley since 1671, is owned by the esteemed Potter family, and sells all manner of housewares and domestic goods to suit the needs of the modern Wizarding family. Following the announcement, share prices dropped from 30G 5s per share to 2G 8s per share, and continue to decline as of press time. Ripples could be felt throughout the British Magical Market, as panicked investors looked to foreign markets. An emergency meeting of the Wizengamot was held yesterday afternoon and rumour has it that they are considering financing a last minute loan to bail out the troubled business.

What landed Pot and Kettle, historically one of the most profitable businesses in the international magical community, so suddenly in hot water? Regrettably, the Potter family could not be reached for comment, and therefore we can only speculate. However, member of Wizengamot and leader of the opposition Magical Peoples' Democratic Party of Britain, Asmodeus (1) Rosier, had this to say: "I'm not surprised that Pot and Kettle went under. In this climate of run away inflation, businesses will struggle to survive. Pot and Kettle is just the tip of the iceberg. I have been saying for years now that if we do not start to curb Ministry spending and increase productivity, we will have a financial crisis on our hands. And as I have said before, we need to seriously re-think the merits of our banking system. Of course, there are some very powerful forces in the Wizengamot that favour the status quo, but those forces are not working for the people, for the common every day witch or wizard. And until we have a Wizengamot that is accountable to the magical people of Britain, we will not have a Wizengamot that operates in their interests." Strong words from Mr. Rosier, who has been reprimanded in the past by Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore for speaking his mind to the press regarding internal Wizengamot business.

Mr. Rosier brings up fundamental questions about the wisdom of our Goblin run banking system and even — dare we suggest — the validity of an unelected (2) Wizengamot's mandate to rule. But the question on the mind of Mrs. Molly Weasley, 25, of Ottery St. Catchpole, mother of two, is much less controversial, though no less important: "where will I get my dish towels now?"

While Mrs. Weasley's concerns are certainly valid, other Wizarding families are perhaps more troubled by the impact that such a large bankruptcy could have on the stock market — and on their retirement savings.

"You tell 'em, dad!" said Evan, his face breaking out into a wide grin.

Damian bit his lower lip. "He needs to be careful what he says. You know the Wizengamot doesn't like him talking to the papers."

"Fuck the Wizengamot," said Evan with a scowl that was strikingly at odds with his usual easy manner.

"Yeah," chimed in Severus, "the only thing worse than censorship is self-censorship."

Whatever Damian was going to say to that was cut off by Avery, who leaned in over his head and asked in his booming voice, "Hey boys, you two coming with to Slug Club today?" He was referring to Severus and Evan. The Avery and Rosier names guaranteed admission to the Slug Club from first year, whereas the Wilkes and Mulciber names decidedly did not. Although Wilkes, at least, was smart enough to merit an admission on his own, in Severus's private opinion. He, himself, was a fixture at these events almost certainly only because of Slughorn's fawning regard for Lily.

"Yeah, might as well," said Evan, "there'll be crystallized pineapple."

Avery scrunched up his face. "Euch, I can't believe you actually like that shit." He was right, the stuff was downright vile. "What about you?" he asked, turning to Severus.

"Yeah, Lily will expect me there," he said with a deep sigh, stirring his porridge listlessly with his left hand, his chin resting in his right.

Four pairs of eyes rolled in their sockets simultaneously, and Mulciber, the prat, made a sound that cracked the air like a whip.

Later that afternoon, Lily peered around Slughorn's office from her place next to Sev. The table in front of them was decked out in a deep purple tablecloth, and fine crystal bowls filled to the brim with crystallized pineapple gleamed in the torchlight in front of each guest. They all remained untouched apart from the bowl in front of Slughorn, and, oddly enough, the one in front of Evan Rosier: he had made quick work of his own, and had already started in on Mercedes's portion.

Slughorn flung a corpulent arm around Potter's shoulders, herding him to the table. "Ah, our dear Mr. Potter, so glad you came. Such a shame what's happened to Pot & Kettle. I've never known a finer place to get oneself a dish towel. Please, express my condolences to Charlus and Dorea. It must be a terribly difficult time for the family. Such a formidable business, and to see it have to close its doors…yes, yes, it's all terribly sad."

At that moment, head boy Frank Longbottom jumped in. "Oh, I think we're being a bit hasty here. I suspect very much that Pot & Kettle is here to stay. In fact," he said with an air of self-aggrandizement, "I have it on good authority that the Wizengamot will be voting in favour of a bail out next week."

Evan Rosier, who was sitting on Sev's other side, scowled. It occurred to Lily that she had never seen Rosier scowl before. "That's just what we need in this economy: more debt. Why should Pot & Kettle get a free hand out with the taxpayer money that ordinary working families can barely afford to pay?" It was, Lily thought, a surprising thing for Rosier to say: he came from a family just as affluent as the Potters. What did he know about ordinary working families? And why should he care about their means?

Longbottom replied superciliously: "It's clear you understand nothing of economics. By saving Pot & Kettle, we are saving the economy."

At that point, Sev jumped in. "Yeah, for the rich," he said snidely.

This incensed Longbottom. "Excuse me?"

"All you're doing is saving the shares of people rich enough to invest in the market. Those families struggling on Knockturn Alley don't have a knut to spare for investing in anything."

Lily noticed fifth year Slytherin prefect Narcissa Black eyeing Sev appraisingly, as if she had never seen him before. Lily had, up until now, neglected to form any sort of an opinion regarding the mild-mannered beauty, but decided in that moment that she actually quite didn't like her. She leaned in closer to Sev and placed a casual hand on his arm. Narcissa's eyes followed the movement, but her expression did not waver.

Little Barty Crouch piped in: "My father says that the wealth trickles down from the rich to the poor. So if the people at the top aren't doing well, everyone suffers."

Regulus Black, who was a fellow third year Slytherin, snorted. "Trickle down economics is just a euphemism for the rich pissing on the poor."

"Nice one Reg," said Sev approvingly, and Regulus beamed in pride.

"Don't talk about things you don't understand, Reg, you'll only make yourself look stupid," said Sirius Black, and Regulus's face fell as if Sirius had just kicked his puppy for sport.

"That's rich coming from you, Black," retorted Sev, coming to Regulus's defence. "The only thing you understand about finance is how to spend your parents' money in ways you reckon will spite them the most."

"Now, now, boys! Let's not fight amongst ourselves," cut in Slughorn, whose eyes had been pinging back and forth between the boys in increasing consternation, "we're all friends here —"

But Slughorn's attempt to diffuse the situation backfired as several male voices interjected at once, each one with some indignant variation of: "Like hell we are!"

Lily removed her hand from Sev's arm, feeling uncomfortable. She caught Mercedes's eye, and noticed her shrinking away from Rosier beside her. Narcissa continued to appear completely unperturbed; her ice blue eyes remained fixed on Severus in a way that made Lily bristle.

Slughorn hastily cut in, voice booming over the din. "Alright! I think that's enough for today. Back to your dorms. See you all next month!" He used his bulk to herd the still bickering boys out the door.

Lily slipped out of Slughorn's office, rushing to catch up to Severus, who had stormed off ahead of her, still in a snit over something that Sirius Black had said.

Halfway down the main dungeon corridor, Severus came to a sudden stop, spinning around to face her. "What do you think about all this bail out business, anyway?"

Lily averted her eyes, conscious of the few students milling around them. "Oh, I don't know, I suppose I agree with you. Listen, Sev, I need to stop by Gryffindor tower to sort my laundry for the house elves. Meet you in the library in an hour? We've got that Arithmancy quiz first thing Monday morning."

And with that, she hurried off down the corridor and up the stairs, leaving Sev behind in the dungeons.

After Lily ran off, Severus returned to the Slytherin Common Room. He was now sat on an overstuffed green velvet sofa, killing an hour until he was due to meet up with Lily in the library. Lily…who had given him the brush off back there, when he had asked for her opinion on the Pot & Kettle situation. "I suppose I agree with you". What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean? Severus had never known Lily to be shy about expressing her opinion: quite the opposite in fact, she often put him in his place with frightening zeal. She kept him on his toes, and he liked that about her. So he found her behaviour earlier to be particularly disconcerting. Either she disagreed with him and didn't want to have a row over it, or she genuinely didn't care either way. Neither option was particularly promising, and he didn't even know which of them was more likely, because she had been occluding like hell.

He had been staring absently into the fire in front of him, his eyes following the flames dancing above the faintly crackling logs in the fireplace, when he noticed a slight shadow fall over him. He looked up and was met with the large, clear, sky-blue irises of Narcissa Black. Her flaxen hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her pale, elfin face. She wore her school uniform as if it were a diaphanous gown of the finest silk. The overall effect was that of an angel fallen to Earth.

"Hello, you're Severus, right? You're friends with my cousin?" Her voice was soft and mellifluous, her words clipped in artlessly perfect Received Pronunciation.

He realized he was gaping at her and snapped his mouth shut. Then opened it up again when he realized that he was still staring at her without saying anything. He hesitated. Friends with her cousin? Oh yeah, she and Evan were cousins through her mother, Druella Rosier. "Yeah, I'm him. I mean, yes, that's me," he stuttered, his tongue oddly thick and heavy in his mouth. He felt as if he were speaking through a mouthful of molasses.

She graced him with a small smile that made his heart flip in his chest. "I'm Narcissa Black."

"I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are — you're Narcissa Black!"

And why was she talking to him? Being approached by Narcissa Black was like being approached by a unicorn in the middle of the forbidden forest. It just didn't happen to people like him. No seriously, why was she talking to him? It suddenly occurred to him why it was that he had no idea: there was nothing whatsoever radiating off of her. She was completely blank, occluding him so well that he would think her a muggle, if the thought of Narcissa Black as a muggle wasn't so patently ridiculous. How did she know — oh right, Bellatrix must have taught her.

"Yes, I am," she said, blinking placidly at him.

He rushed to amend his statement. "I mean, you're a prefect so that's how I know you, know what I mean?" He winced. Of course she didn't know what he meant. He was barely coherent. Even he didn't really know what the hell he was saying.

"Right. Well, actually," she paused, biting her lip apologetically, "I have a favour to ask of you."

"Oh," he said, trying to not to let his disappointment show. Of course that would be the only reason a girl like her would deign to speak to a boy like him.

"I was listening to what you had to say just now at the Slug Club meeting. And, you seem like you're awfully knowledgeable about economics."

The silence stretched between them, and he realized she expected him to answer. "Er, yes. I suppose so," he said, although right at the moment he couldn't recall a single thing about economics, micro or macro.

"You see I really wanted to be able to participate in that conversation back there. Only, I don't know the first thing about the economy, or about politics," she said, and was that — could that be — was Narcissa Black actually blushing?

"I'm sure you know more than you think," he said, hurrying to reassure her. Something was terribly wrong with the world if Narcissa Black, of all people, felt insecure about something.

She shook her head. "No. Really, I don't. It's okay, I can admit when I don't know something. And I'm not the type to spout off ignorant opinions about things I don't understand." Severus wondered, not for the first time, how on Earth it was that she could possibly be related to Sirius Black. "So anyway," she continued, "I was wondering — hoping — that we could sit down for a bit and you could maybe explain to me what everyone was talking about back there so that I might gather for myself an informed opinion on the matter."

"Uh, sure. I can do that."

"Great. That's great," she said brightly, and this time her smile was warm and reached all the way to her eyes. If his heart flipped before, it did a full somersault this time.

"Um, when?"

"How about now?"

"I can do that," he repeated, his upcoming meeting with Lily completely slipping his mind.

When Lily climbed through the portrait hole, the first thing she noticed was Potter sitting by himself in front of the fire, staring morosely into the flickering flames. She approached him, but he appeared not to notice her, his eyes fixed in a glassy stare. She could see the firelight reflecting off of his glasses.

It was most unusual for Potter not to take notice of her at once, and it filled her with disquiet. For the first time in her life, Lily deliberately attempted to get James Potter's attention.

"Potter — James!" he shook himself out of his daze, listlessly turning his face to look up at her. "I, uh, just want you to know that I'm sorry about Pot & Kettle."

"Thanks," he said dully, turning back to the fire.

She cleared her throat. "That, uh, must have been uncomfortable for you, back there. You know, with everyone talking about it."

Now that she thought back on it, she realized something…surprising: Potter, for his part, hadn't chimed in once. In fact, for the first time that she could remember, Potter had looked decidedly uncomfortable and out of place. Usually, he acted as if he owned (or ought to own) every room that he walked into.

Potter — James, ran his hand through his hair in an absent minded gesture, ruffling it into an even greater state of disarray, if that were possible. "Listen, I'm not stupid," he said, talking into the fire, "I know what people think of me. Everyone thinks I've had it so good, growing up in the lap of luxury with parents who love me and wanting for nothing. And, well, they're right. I have had it easy. Nothing bad has really happened to me or my family before — I mean, the greatest tragedy in my life so far has been losing a game of Quidditch," he finished, catching her eye with a weak smile that made Lily's heart hurt for him. "But the way people are talking about this — it's almost as if they're glad to see my family fail —"

"Schadenfreude," she volunteered automatically.

"What?"

"It's a German word for pleasure derived from the misfortune of others," quoted Lily.

"Right, anyway," he continued, "my point is, it's hard seeing that — knowing that there are people out there actually rooting for us to fail. And it's not even about the money — we have enough Gold in Gringotts to comfortably finance several generations of Potters — but Pot & Kettle has been in our family for over 300 years. And to say that we shouldn't get a loan simply out of spite is well — it's cruel, you know?" He paused, running the hand that had been in his hair over his face. "I mean, I guess I sort of brought it on myself. I'm not exactly known for wearing my good fortune discreetly." His expression turned bemused. "What? Why are you gaping at me like a guppy?"

"Nothing. That's just remarkably self-aware, coming from you." Lily clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, that was mean. Forget I said that."

A faint smile touched his lips. "It's okay. I like that you're honest. Everyone else talks behind my back. You insult me directly to my face. It's a nice change of pace," and there was the shadow of the James Potter that Lily knew and — well, knew.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" she asked, because she didn't know what else to say. She wanted to get James out of this maudlin mood — something was deeply wrong with the world when James Potter enumerated his own faults so insightfully.

He leaned in toward her. "How about a game of exploding snap? You know, to take my mind off of things?"

Lily smiled. "I can do that," she said, taking a seat next to him, her agreement to meet Sev in the library completely slipping her mind.

"Explain dem — demrocracy —"

"—democracy —" corrected Severus.

"— democracy," enunciated Narcissa carefully, "to me again?"

Two hours in to their impromptu talk, Severus had explained the basics of macroeconomic theory to Narcissa, and now had moved onto explaining what exactly Asmodeus Rosier had meant when he had said that the Wizengamot weren't accountable to the population. Amazingly, Narcissa was still listening to him with rapt attention. She was sitting sideways on the sofa next to him, one leg tucked underneath her, so that she was fully facing him, and her long, slender torso was curled around the damask throw pillow that she had clutched to her chest. It was a remarkably casual posture for her to take — he didn't think he'd ever seen her sit that way before.

"Right, you see, British Muggles have something called 'universal suffrage,' which means, basically, that everyone in the country over the age of eighteen is eligible to vote in something called a general election."

"Everyone votes? Even people who don't have seats in the Wizengamot?" she asked, leaning in further toward him, her eyes wide.

"Parliament, and yes, everyone votes, or at least, everyone can vote, although many don't."

The ends of her delicate lips turned down into a frown. "Why ever not?"

"Laziness, apathy, cynicism…take your pick," he said, enumerating on his fingers.

"But…they can choose who is in charge, and they don't even take advantage of that opportunity?"

"Well, some do."

Her eyes clouded over, and she appeared deep in thought. "And Evan's dad's party, what was it called again?"

"The Magical Peoples' Democratic Party of Britain," he supplied easily.

"Right. His party wants to bring that universal suffering —"

"—suffrage—"

"—suffrage to Wizarding Britain?"

"Yes."

"Well, what are they waiting for?" she cried, in an indignant tone that was very uncharacteristic of her. It made him smile.

"It's not that simple. You see, the trouble is, for such a law to pass, the Wizengamot needs to vote in favour of it. And most members of the Wizengamot don't want universal suffrage, because they want to keep political power within their families."

Narcissa's face fell. "Oh. But then, it's never going to pass, is it?" she asked despondently.

"No, probably not."

She knit her delicately arched brows together. "So then, how did Muggles end up with this…democracy?"

"Well, in a lot of countries, what they had to do was have a revolution, where the ordinary people rose up and fought and got rid of the people in power by force."

"Wouldn't a lot of people get killed if that happened?"

"Yes."

Narcissa bit her lip, absently worrying at a thread in the pillow. She locked her eyes with his, a nakedly earnest expression on her face. "Do you think it's justified?" she asked him softly. "Killing people, if it's the only way to change things for the better? The only way to make things more fair and equal for everyone?"

Severus had the impression that a great deal hinged on how he responded to this question. He swallowed around a lump in his throat, and answered with his heart,

"Sometimes, yes, I think it can be."

1 - Asmodeus is the demon of lust. I thought that was an appropriate first name, given that Rosier is the demon of tainted love and seduction.

2 - I am basing the Wizengamot somewhat on the senate of Ancient Rome, which some differences. Most seats in the Wizengamot are hereditary, but some seats are appointed for life. Ministers in the government also have temporary seats on the Wizengamot. The Minister for Magic is elected by the Wizengamot. Asmodeus Rosier has a hereditary seat.

Author's Note 2: This is my favourite chapter so far, and it sets the stage for the political side of the story. I would really, really appreciate your feedback on this chapter, especially.

By the way, I was more than a little amused that the bankruptcy was introduced in chapter 11.

Thank you also to my fiance, who patiently answered my dumb economics-related questions, like: "Can a family-owned business be publicly traded?" and "how does inflation work?" and "where does the bail out money come from?" If I'd known I'd be writing Pennines one day, I would have taken econ 101 somewhere in the midst of all the cell bio.