Hello Everyone! Thank you for your patience as I continue drafting Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. Sadly, this bonus chapter is not the end of the hiatus. I expect to resume regular updates in April. In the meantime, if you're looking for something to read, I humbly suggest you check out my side-project, "Lone Wolf: A Marauder's Story." It's a sort of spiritual prequel to The Spiteful Sorting Hat, but it's designed to stand-alone. I plan to cover the Marauders' years at Hogwarts, but it won't be nearly as long as this story (I hope). Thanks again for all of your support and patience with this tale!


Bonus Chapter - Snape and Narcissa

The very last house on Spinner's End was identical in every way to its neighbors. Constructed of crumbling red brick and nestled at the base of a disused mill, the house was unremarkable in the extreme. Outside, the chill mist that had seemed to envelope the entire country pressed against the latticed windows. But inside, wrapped in the warm yellow light of a candle-filled lamp, sat Severus Snape.

He was reading from a book, similar in appearance to the countless others lining every wall of his small, cramped sitting room. Most of the tomes were bound in black or brown leather, giving the space a heavy, unfriendly atmosphere. Snape took no notice of his surroundings, however. He rested comfortably in a threadbare armchair, his eyes resting on the words before him. He had not turned the page in hours. He was thinking…

His meditations were interrupted by a knock at the door. The hour was late, far too late to admit an uninvited guest. But Snape did not flinch. Setting his book on a spindly table next to a cold cup of tea, he made his way toward the front door of his home.

Two women waited on his doorstep, both wrapped in black cloaks, an unusual sight in this oppressively Muggle neighborhood. Before he could utter a word, the first of the visitors lowered her hood, revealing a cascade of long, white-blonde hair and a pale, pointed face.

"Narcissa! What a pleasant surprise!" Snape lied, opening the door a little wider.

"Severus, I must speak with you," replied Narcissa Malfoy in a strained whisper.

Snape moved aside to let her pass. Her companion followed her closely, not waiting for an invitation.

"Snape," she said curtly.

"Bellatrix," he returned with a slight curl of his lip. The expression was lost on Bellatrix Lestrange as she followed her sister into the study. Narcissa took a seat on the small sofa. Bellatrix remained standing, lowering her hood only after Snape had closed the door. Dark where her sister was fair, she surveyed his home with a look of haughty disdain.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Narcissa's hands twisted around each other in her lap. She seemed reluctant to begin. Snape opened the conversation himself.

"You are both welcome to visit anytime, but this hardly seems the hour to pay a personal call. Is there something I can help you with?"

Narcissa ran her tongue over her dry lips before she dared to speak. "Are you certain we are alone?"

In response, Snape flicked his wand at a bookcase behind her. With a bang, it slid open, revealing a hidden staircase on which a short, corpulent man stood, shoulders hunched and watery eyes open wide in shock.

"You remember Wormtail, I trust?" Snape asked coolly. "He is the only one here besides myself. But I think we needn't concern ourselves with vermin."

The man, once called Wormtail by his friends, now spurned by allies who ridiculed him with the same name, slid forward. He caressed one hand with the other. One of them glistened with a silver sheen in the candlelight. He seemed to prefer ignoring Snape's pointed jab, and attempted to address the two women before him instead.

"Narcissa! And Bellatrix, as well! This is such an unexpected honor…"

"Another cup of tea, Wormtail," Snape interrupted. "Mine has gone cold. And two more for our guests, if they would like them."

"I am not your servant!" Wormtail seethed with surprising venom.

"Really? I was under the impression that the Dark Lord placed you here to assist me?"

"To assist you, yes. But not to serve you tea, or clean your house, or whatever menial task you please!"

"I had no idea you were looking for more dangerous assignments, Wormtail. I shall speak on your behalf. I am sure something suitable to your… talents… can be arranged."

"I can speak to the Dark Lord myself, Snivellus!"

Perhaps he thought this old nickname carried the same sting for Snape as his own did for him. Little did he know, Snape had grown inured to it a while ago. Not so long as he would care to admit, but for at least as many weeks as Sirius Black had been dead and buried. With him, all of Snape's petty childhood resentments had died. Now he merely wondered, in a detached sort of way, what Wormtail thought of the loss of his former friend, if he thought anything at all.

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied to Wormtail's barbed comment with, "By all means, vent your complaints to him. I look forward to seeing how they will be received. In the meantime, our drinks."

Wormtail looked as though he wanted to argue further, but he bit his tongue in the presence of their company. He walked toward another bookcase, preparing to disappear through yet another concealed door, when Snape, recalling him, added, "On second thought, we'll have some of that excellent elf-made wine. No need to pour yourself a glass. Three will do."

Wormtail glowered at him, but he did as he was instructed. Once the bottle and three glasses had been placed before him, Snape banished Wormtail upstairs.

He offered a glass to Bellatrix, who had maintained a steely silence throughout the interaction with Wormtail. She seemed to care for his wheedling, pathetic speech as little as Snape did himself. She held the wine by the stem of the glass, but did not drink until Snape raised his own cup and stated, "To the Dark Lord."

Seeing Snape swallow the contents of his glass, Bellatrix sipped at her own. Narcissa did not move. She was gazing fixedly at Snape. It seemed she was finally ready to talk.

But Snape motioned for patience. He waved his wand at the closed bookcase once more. There was another loud bang, then a yelp, and the sound of tiny feet scurrying back up the stairs.

"Apologies," Snape said to his guests, "Wormtail has taken to listening at doors. The years he spent living as a rat have taught him some rather uncivilized habits."

Satisfied that they were finally alone, Narcissa set her glass aside and said directly, "Severus, I must know… Tell me where he is."

"I do not know where your son is…"

"You must know!" Narcissa cried, starting up from her seat.

"I am no more aware of where Draco is than where they have hidden Harry Potter."

"Dumbledore trusts you! Surely he would tell you where…"

"Dumbledore does not appear to confide in me as much as he used to," Snape replied harshly. "Your husband's little stunt at the Department of Mysteries has shaken his faith in me. He seems to think I should have known more about the plot."

"Perhaps Dumbledore is not the only one with cause to doubt your loyalty," Bellatrix said waspishly.

Narcissa turned her grief-stricken face toward her sister. She was about to urge her to remain silent, but Snape interceded.

"Bellatrix appears to have something to say," he remarked blandly, "Let's hear it."

Bellatrix tossed her long, dark hair back from her shoulders, thrusting her chest out proudly as she declared, "Lucius was acting on the Dark Lord's orders. His plan would have succeeded… Had not Dumbledore and the rest of those blood-traitors arrived. Someone must have warned them."

Snape listened to her calmly. It was no more than he expected. He knew he would be questioned eventually. It was only appropriate that of all the Dark Lord's followers, Bellatrix would be the one to test him

"I am well aware of what the Dark Lord must suspect. Wormtail is my assistant in name only. His real purpose is to keep tabs on my movements. But the Dark Lord will soon realize that my loyalty is unshaken. Let him question me, if he desires. I have nothing to hide from him. But to you, Bellatrix, I owe no explanations. I will give you none."

Bellatrix seemed far from reassured, but there was something in his cool demeanor that soothed her agitated spirit. She looked to her sister, who had continued to stare at Snape with wide, pleading eyes. When it was clear that Bellatrix had no more to fling at him, he addressed Narcissa.

"Draco has chosen his side," he pronounced with cruel finality, "And in doing so, he has betrayed his family and the Dark Lord. Perhaps, given these circumstances, it is safer for him to remain under Dumbledore's protection, for now…"

Narcissa shuddered, though she shook her head in denial. "He doesn't understand! He's just a child, Severus."

"Draco is sixteen. Nearly of age, and certainly old enough to be responsible for his actions."

"He has been brainwashed by Potter!" Narcissa insisted, "If I could just see him, speak to him again! I'd explain everything, bring him back…"

"And what has the Dark Lord said of bringing Draco home?"

Narcissa paused. In her hesitation, he read the truth, even before she said, "He does not… I have not told him of my intentions…"

Snape held his open palms at his sides, a gesture which seemed to say that this was the end of their conversation. But Narcissa would not be so easily turned away. Though her voice was soft and quiet, her tone remained determined.

"I know my family is disgraced. My son has abandoned us. Lucius is imprisoned. I barely managed to escape the Ministry, myself. But if Draco would only see reason, if he performed a service for the Dark Lord… One so great, he were welcomed back with open arms…"

"And what service would that be?" Snape asked suspiciously.

"Do not tell him!" Bellatrix urged, "The Dark Lord swore us to secrecy!"

Narcissa gasped, then buried her face in her hands. Snape watched her in silence for a moment, then he crept toward the bookcase, placing his ear close to the hidden door. For a moment, all was quiet, then he heard a soft, scratching noise, as of small claws against wood.

Frowning, Severus directed his wand at his feet. Once more the bang, then a squeal of pain that quickly lapsed into silence.

Satisfied that his stunning spell had hit its mark, Snape turned once more to his two guests, saying quite plainly, "As it happens, I believe I already know the service Narcissa is referring to."

Narcissa could be beautiful when she smiled. Though her face was streaked with tears, her nose red from crying, she smiled at him now as she said, "I knew it! I knew the Dark Lord would confide in you!"

Bellatrix, however, looked hostile as she demanded, "He told you?!"

Snape returned her glare with a cool gaze. "I know enough to realize that the task has been bestowed on another. One whose family is more deserving…"

"No! Not more deserving!" Narcissa countered, "Only more eager to take advantage of my husband's embarrassment! They care no more for the Dark Lord than their own ambition!"

The room was small. It took only a step for Narcissa to close the gap between them, her fingers clawing beseechingly at the front of Snape's robes. Were he a man to be wooed by such a picture of tragic beauty, he might have been swayed by her pleas. But only one woman had ever attracted Snape's notice, and Narcissa's beauty was too austere, her sister's too haughty, to ever move him.

Narcissa did appear to notice his indifference as she gazed into his dark eyes.

"Severus, you are still the Dark Lord's most trusted advisor. You were Lucius's friend. You are Draco's favorite teacher… You must speak to him… You must convince him…"

Snape gently, but firmly removed her hands.

"Whatever influence I may have over Draco will be used to direct him toward the proper course. But Narcissa, I must warn you, I will not interfere in what the Dark Lord has planned."

Narcissa gave a shuddering sob, then her knees gave out beneath her. She sank to the floor, moaning to herself and saying, "My son… My only son…"

"Draco is a traitor!" Bellatrix burst out viciously. "We should not be here, Cissy! I said so before… We cannot help him now!"

Snape gazed impassively at the woman sobbing at his feet, then at Bellatrix, who stared at her own sister with a look of revulsion. In a moment, he had grasped Narcissa by her arms and helped her back to her feet.

"Control yourself! Remember that your son is safe, for the time being," Snape assured her, "When he has returned to Hogwarts, I will guide him. But for now, we must wait. It's impossible to know where Dumbledore has placed him. For all we know, he's in hiding with Potter himself."