Apologies it has taken so long. I am running a company of one, dealing with panic attacks, my father recovering from surgery and it's just been.. it's been.. yeah.
Anyway, this chapter contains a little bit for archread, who like Snape and Minerva bantering. Thank you, I do to. They amuse me a lot. There will be more eventually when they get back to the castle.
I'm still looking for prompts for pranks BTW. And other prompts. I have one for a long lost letter, student interactions, and more Clara. Those are on their way too!
Finally, I am not in support of what JKR is saying. She created a world I love but she herself is being a hateful idiot.
Next chapter or two might take a bit, or not. Life is chaos.
On to your reguylarily scheduled trauma, I mean story.
It was 3:30AM. He had gotten home and managed to relax by brewing a complicated magical reagent that would, hopefully, glow blue if an object was benignly enchanted and red if it was hexed. It was his third attempt at deciphering the recipe that was in rather broken old English and used outdated alchemical symbols. His latest attempt turned everything with any trace of magic green… Including his hands. At least this one didn't melt the cauldron like the last one and the green only lasted for two minutes.
After that was done he was out of one of the main ingredients and couldn't continue. It was a rather unfortunate outcome as it left him alone with his thoughts as he attempted to see if he had absolutely anything that could possibly substitute for acromantula hairs.
The last few months had been, to put it lightly, utterly catastrophic. Hogwarts in general was a rather insane place, something strange was always happening, but he usually managed to keep out of it. It was rather unfortunate that one of this year's catastrophes seemed to center on him. It was bound to happen sooner or later.
Still, it seemed life was happening at an even more rapid pace since he'd left the castle. He shuddered. His body count had still been below a hundred for one. The irony of the fact that he was one of the more prolific Death Eaters despite not exactly enjoying murder was not lost on him. He enjoyed eating, that was different. He would tell himself that until it didn't sound like an excuse.
He pushed the thoughts away as he picked up a jar of beetle eyes that had been hidden behind a box filled with something that had long since turned to dust. He was aware it was not healthy to push things away, but he didn't need healthy. He needed to survive until his job was done. Most everything in his life was geared toward that end… Like his recent attempt to to rebuild his occlumency shields. …He needed to put a bell on sodding Lucius Malfoy. He didn't want the platinum nuisance to discover his quest to gain a possible refuge that no one else knew about.
The events from the previous night played over in his mind. Was it him, or was his life getting more… surreal? Or was that normal? He felt distinctly uncomfortable. There was a hint of… something in that house and he didn't like how it directed his thoughts. He thought he'd quashed delusional musings on impossibilities long ago. He'd wanted a family at one point, could see himself being a father if he'd had an appropriate spouse to temper and balance him. He hadn't thought on the idea for a long time, it wasn't possible after all. Not the least because he was infertile, he also didn't deserve it and couldn't fathom… He realized he'd been standing with the jar for a good few minutes and put it back before focusing his thoughts in another direction while he emptied out the dust filled box.
He needed to find out more about the woman. He knew she was telling the truth about how she knew about the wizarding world, no that wasn't what bothered him. He had commanded her so she wouldn't tell anyone, so that wasn't what bothered him. No. What bothered him was how she just took it in stride. Like a fucking psychopath. Yes, she had a mantra and worked in customer service, which surely enabled one to survive unpleasant things just as much as being a teacher did, but still. There had to be a breaking point and he was sure most mortal's would be somewhere between being validated on long left behind suppositions about hidden worlds and being confronted with something that could easily eat you. He had a feeling most mortal's tolerances were actually well before either of those, somewhere around three migraines in two days and far more normal near death experiences, like choking on stale bread or some such drudgery. Who the fuck was this woman to be so… composed? He still came to the conclusion of 'psychopath'. …Which honestly might mean he would get along better with her and he didn't really care to examine what that meant about himself. So, not a psychopath.
He knew she was smart enough to think like a Slytherin. She surely realized he could have manipulated her goodwill toward him after he found her son to obtain entry to her house for nefarious means. He had, just not for nefarious purposes. He really just needed a place to lie low when the owl lost its feathers. Perhaps she just hadn't been disappointed enough to acquire a healthy measure of cynicism yet? He sighed and gave up on brewing, his thoughts were driving him now and he was rather due to sort through them. He headed upstairs for his chair.
Maybe. Still, despite a mantra she probably used to prevent herself from punching customers she had handled the situation with far too much… aplomb? Rationality? Calmness? Or… perhaps she hadn't. If she had truly been thinking she wouldn't have invited her brother like a scared younger sister. She was after all just ensuring his death if Snape was actually malicious. Unless she didn't believe Snape was dangerous and it was more for her comfort because the whole situation was bizarre. Perhaps she was going out and buying garlic and polishing her good silver.
Snape humphed as he tapped his fingers across the worn leather before sitting down. Fools, all of them were fools! How humans had managed to survive was honestly beyond him at this point. He was just as hopeless as the rest honestly, guided initially by plans and a need for a safe haven he had… actually enjoyed last night. There were very few people who understood, or more accurately could withstand, the verbal jousting he enjoyed. Fewer still who enjoyed it during intellectual conversation. Flitwick could withstand it, but was too kind to keep up with the insults. Albus did not engage often, perhaps because it was a waste of time, or perhaps because it was too easy. On the occasion he did return the jabs they were rather more devastating than one would expect. Whether the man would ignore, engage, or absolutely demolish him was never known until after the fact.
Aurora enjoyed the verbal sparring but the subject of her academic interest was not close to his own. While Babbling was not interested in the sparring she was interested in academic discussion, especially with an ex death eater.
But Clara, Clara was like Minerva. She could keep up, she could give as good as she got, and she seemed to not hate him. She should… she should be terrified. Of course, the fact that someone killed others was often hard for a mind to grasp if it hadn't encountered murder before. One might be nervous, but it was sometimes difficult to mentally process such things. Just as quantifying or really understanding the amount of people on the planet or the amount of gold in Gringotts was not something a brain could really do. You could understand it intellectually, but when one started to try to process it emotionally, make a connection to it, it was impossible. Like reading about deaths far away. You may be sad, but the emotional connection was not there for most people. Yes, that had to be why she was inviting him back, she just hadn't processed the fact that he was a murdering monster yet. He'd have to do everything in his power to make sure it remained that way… while not lying to her. He had a feeling that would not go over well with her. Nor would an obliviate. Besides, it would be easier to have a safe haven with her if she wasn't asking why he couldn't have garlic or wanted to stay in the basement.
No, wait. He shook his head. None of this explained why she had invited him back. He wasn't handsome, he wasn't personable; he was terrifying, blunt, and ugly. Why was she inviting him back? Why… had she really been flirting with him? No… No that wasn't possible. He needed more data on the woman before he could come to a conclusion on any of his questions. He bottled the thoughts and put them on the shelf for later. He had other things to consider, like his discussion with Pomona. Yes, he should think about that instead.
If his core didn't replenish that meant he needed to be around ambient magical energy or he'd weaken every time he cast magic. Unless Minerva could in fact teach him to manipulate magical energy wandless lay and…. What? Eat it? Absorb it? Either way, the short bits of energy from Albus would do for now but he should probably refrain from casting too much. Unless that would increase the rate at which his addiction passed as he used the magic. If it even was absorbed. Perhaps it was a high because it overloaded his core and wasn't absorbed… or perhaps because it was in the blood. No, he had magical blood frequently once upon a time. Of course not everyone was as powerful as Albus or Minerva. Gods, he'd usually be excited at this type of discovery and chance for research but right now was Not the time. There would be no other though. What he really needed was another vampiric wizard to talk to, but as far as he knew there either were none, or they kept wisely to themselves.
He thought back over the week as light began to peek through the dusty windows. He needed to reapply his lotions. Then… he needed another distraction, introspection that didn't lead to answers was a waste of time and unnerving. It left too much room for thoughts on his sins, which haunted him enough. He stood up and retrieved a book from the shelf and put everything else from his mind.
He spent the rest of the morning researching crests and by mid afternoon he had yet to find anything resembling the one on his goblet. He scowled at the rather large book in his lap. He needed an older one. A bigger one. A more extensive one.
A more expensive one. He sighed. He needed Malfoy's book on crests and names. He would need something of equal value to trade. Malfoy would want information, what information did he have that he could willingly part with?
Nothing on himself. Nothing on potter. He paused, Basarab. No, Mr. Lee. The fact that a person of interest to the auror department was back in the country, the fact that he was a vampire. Yes. That would do, especially since it pertained to his goal.
He stood and grabbed his potions master jacket, and paused at the sound of paper. He reached into the pocket and pulled out a letter.
Dumbledore's letter. He sighed. He had forgotten about it. He supposed he should read it. He opened it and immediately frowned.
My dear Severus,
I am sure you are managing the situation quite well, but it will take at least two weeks or more with the method you used with Minerva. If you believe it safe I would much rather you go through the process at the school where we can assist if necessary. Also, I have things to prepare for and cannot keep covering your classes. If you are gone that long people will start to think the situation is rather dire and as I know you hate to be scrutinized and prodded I suggest you return. The sooner you are back the less likely people will start to question why you were gone.
My process will take about one week, similar to last time except with the new potion I am sure you have made and some plans of my own incorporated as well. I really cannot take no for an answer and expect you to return by next Saturday, as I hear you have something nice happening and would not want to deny you the opportunity to follow up on that. It will also give you the time needed to clear up any affairs, potions, projects, or such you have started during your sudden sabbatical. Which, need I remind you, you did not apply for. If you really wish to continue as you are you need to sign the required papers and provide a qualified substitute. As we both know there is no one you would consider qualified to sub in for you I must ask you to return or I shall be forced to take drastic measures.
As your sabbatical was forced upon you I will not bring it to the attention of the board of governors, whether or not you choose to return by Saturday, but would still appreciate your cooperation so I do not have to force your hand.
If you have any problems with what I have proposed, please owl me as soon as you can. My owl has taken a sabbatical itself, quite suddenly, to stay at Cokeworth, so my replies may be slow.
Also, I did indeed spike the punch, but rather by accident. It was supposed to be with giggle juice but the bottles… well I believe Peeves switched all the labels around when I wasn't looking. As the staff mostly had a nice evening I saw no harm. Next time I plan on doing something similar I will make sure the resident potions master has confirmed that I am indeed putting giggle juice in and not something else.
As to why I had such a substance, it was a gift from an old friend who thought it would make me uncomfortable. He is attempting to do such a thing again right now, to the rest of the staff. He has promised to behave but I fear for Trelawny's blood pressure if he stays too long. As he insists on staying until you have recuperated, I must again insist on your hasty return.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Snape reread the rambling letter and cursed. So, the man not only knew where he was, but knew he had brewed the potion, knew he was detoxing slowly, and knew somehow that he had a date! He had also managed to convey that Mr Lee, aka Basarab aka Samuel aka asshole, was stressing the faculty with his presence, although he had a feeling the man didn't plan to do anything actually damaging. An outright fight between Dumbledore and Mr. Lee would end rather poorly for Dumbledore, not in the sense that the man would lose but if there was a fight students would be used as shields, die, his reputation would be tarnished. It would interrupt their monthly chess games surely. The fact that Mr Lee was under a vow right now was the only thing that was keeping the peace. Probably. That and the fact that the current game amused the vampire. If he got bored though…. He couldn't be left at the school too long.
Snape cursed again. That was not his bloody problem. He had his own to deal with. He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and scribbled out three sentences.
Cecil Lany can be found at Flourish and Blotts and will be an acceptable substitute for two weeks. If you approve of the choice, owl me and I will arrange it. I also give you permission to copy my signature below to any papers necessary for my sabbatical, as it seems the one Minerva sent for me has run its course.
SS
Snape smirked. The young man hated potions, but owed him. He was also hopefully smart enough to realize that as a substitute he had access to the ingredients he would need to make the lotion for his uncle, for free. He may not enjoy the two weeks, but he couldn't pass it up, not at what his current salary most likely was. Also, he knew for a fact Vilanelle rather coveted his Arabic copy of Most Potente Potions. He'd copied all he needed from it and could easily get her to part with the boy for two weeks if he offered it to her. The students were reviewing at this point, not doing anything new, Cecil would be fine just putting the questions he had listed on the board and using his rubric for grading. And as to Albus thinking this process would take two weeks, well, he'd just have to see. He hoped that would be all the time it took. He needed to get back for exams.
He folded the parchment, sealed it, and gave one more glance at Albus' letter, only to spy another piece of paper stuck to the back. Curious, he pulled it off.
He sighed and opened the other letter, looking at the wax seal with a large simple M on it. He scowled at the handwriting that he was fairly familiar with.
Severus Snape, you are an arsehole. You have broken my trust and besmirched my honor. I call for satisfaction-
Shit… if he wasn't mistaken everything after the first sentence was a traditional call out. He swallowed and continued reading.
-three days after the end of the school year in the courtyard. I call for satisfaction twice so we shall see who is the better, day or night, wind or rain. I call for satisfaction and shall be fulfilled at 3PM and 8PM or find you unworthy of sharing my wisdom, my words, and my friendship. I find you unworthy to the tune of 300 galleons or items of equal worth should you fail to appear, or fall before me. I shall walk away with no want to my name if I lose or tie with you.
Your absence shall show forfeit unless reasonable interferences arise as declared and adjudicated by Albus Perceval Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who shall also oversee our conference of wands.
Severus Snape, I, Minerva McGonagall, challenge you to a wizard's duel.
Well… that was… official. Snape sighed and shook his head before continuing to read.
I expect to see you at 3. And don't try to get out of it and just pay like you did last time. I've already told Filius and he's spread the word. The exits will be warded and you will not just sit in your room and forfeit. Clean up your act and get back here.
You'll think a timeturner broke on your head because by merlin I can still teach you a thing or two. How dare you poison me with a paralytic like that. How dare you trick Pomona into thinking I was bleeding out somewhere! There is no need to reply to this letter because I will see you in time for this duel or so help me I will find a stake, drag you back, and use you to warm up before the duel that we will most definitely be having. You're lucky Albus convinced me to just send a letter along with his, you utterly duplicitous snake.
Also, we will have words. You glossed over far too much during our last conversation. Don't think I forgot about you mentioning you essentially did not eat for 10 years. Oh, and I will bring the whiskey this time.
I hope you get better soon, stay safe and make good choices,
Minerva McGonagall
Snape sighed. Godsdammit. Why did the woman insist on dueling him? Why did she have to make a spectacle out of it? Dammit, he'd have to brush up on dueling rules because he was fairly sure half the spells that were legal last time were no longer legal. At least it wasn't a no holds barred. Still the woman was rather transparent, asking for one duel during the day and another at night. She'd most likely win the first one if it was sunny, he was weakened in the sun, back to mortal speeds. She wanted to see how she'd fare against him on even footing and uneven footing.
It… he couldn't really show off the true extent of his skills, could he? But… could he afford to lose 300 Galleons? He'd rather depleted some of his funds the past few weeks. While it was true he didn't use much money, he'd saved up enough to be frivolous and now that extra padding was gone.
He'd have to ask Albus his opinion, although the man had rather given it by volunteering to officiate. He'd need to… eat heartily to have near enough magic to duel the woman. Or hold off on casting for a few days. Or eat between the duels. Or…. Something.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He was surrounded by willful women who wanted to… he wasn't sure exactly but he doubted it would be pleasant.
He sighed and cast a notice me not charm on himself, then opened the window and held his reply to Albus out the window. He didn't have to wait long. The owl from before swooped down and took the letter from him, scraping his hand as it did. That's why it was angry. It was here and not at Hogwarts. Still, that was no reason to be rude. Snape cursed at the bird and closed the window, cancelling the charm now that he no longer had to worry about muggles seeing an owl swooping down and taking a letter from his hand.
Well then. He dusted himself off, made sure his hand had healed, double checked his bandolier, his lotion application, his wand, and grabbed some floo powder. He turned off the warding on the floo channel with a wave and threw the powder in.
"Malfoy Manor, sitting room." He said, rolling his eyes that he had to specify that. The house was too big by far. He stepped through the green flames and out into the resplendent room. The silver, gold, and blue carpet balanced the dark blue paint that edged every corner. The shelves were a pristine white, which showed off the expensive artifacts well, as most were rather dark. For some reason if the magic was dark the creators felt it had to look that way. Sometimes Snape was sorely tempted to make a deadly poison or spell that was flamboyantly bright pink and orange, just to mess with people's perceptions. Perhaps it would actually work as a deception or distraction. If he didn't hate those colors he might actually do it. He pondered the uses of such colors as a distractive subterfuge while he looked for any changes amongst the artifacts and chairs and waited.
The chairs were the same, which was good because that meant he knew which ones were safe to sit in. The one closest to the fire would stick you to it and slowly constrict you with the hideous pearls used to edge its fabric. The one nearest the door was safe, for Severus. Anyone living would be unable to breathe until they complimented the current master of the house on the chair. He smirked and sat down in it, feeling the air being pulled out of his lungs was always amusing. He opened the globe nearby and regarded the whiskey there. As usual, wizarding whiskey. Someday he'd manage to get Malfoy to drink a muggle whiskey and watch his face when he told him. Muggle whiskey was just as good as wizarding whiskey, often better because they didn't attempt to do stupid things like embed feelings into their alcohol.
He closed the globe as he heard footsteps. The door opened and he smiled as Narcissa stepped in.
"Severus! What a pleasant surprise, oh… I… Do you need help?"
With his intent known the chair let him take a breath and speak, of course, letting only enough air in to get the words out. "No Narcissa, Lucius is quite aware that this is my favorite chair in the entire house." It was a half compliment, but the chair practically knew him by this point and he felt air fill his lungs further after the compliment. "I do apologize for the intrusion, but if he is not busy I require a book and a chat from Lucius."
"I am sorry Severus but he is busy at the moment."
Well shit.
"But I know the library well enough, I'm sure I can help you."
Well shit.
"That would be wonderful, Cissa, thank you."
"Ha, Cissa, but that does bring me back! Are you trying to butter me up Severus?"
"Absolutely." He said, standing with a slight slight smile and a nod. This was going to be dangerous. Lucius was smart, oh yes. The man was manipulative, understood social standing and politics, could place you in a corner before you knew it. Narcissa however, knew people. She could read a room, she could see the ties between individuals as if they were physical ribbons and knew exactly which one to tug or snip to get what she wanted. Worse however, was when you were alone with her. If she had all her attention on you, you might as well be an open book written in bold print. She could read posture, the change of your grip on your wand, a slight dart of the eye. If she spent any amount of time with you and knew you well, you were fucked.
And she had gone to Hogwarts with him. Fuck. He redoubled his occlumency shields and made sure his face was absolutely blank, she would know he was hiding something, but she already knew that. Everyone involved knew that. He was always hiding something, he was a godsdamn spy. She would not know what he was hiding. Namely, the addiction.
That was the main problem. The second problem was she would most likely not give two knuts about Mr. Lee. She would want something else. Namely gossip. Like the fact that Dumbledore spiked the punch by accident. Or had that type of potion in the first place. However, considering this was a rather unnecessary bit of research in the long run Snape Highly doubted Dumbledore would approve of him giving away personal information in search of answers.
Snape followed the perfectly dressed woman out of the sitting room and into the hall. The floor here was a pristine mahogany and the walls white with a gold leaf edging of oak leaves. It matched her dress, thin, cream, and very prim with a large flat collar. He walked slightly behind her, showing deference, but not so far behind that he could ogle. She would immediately accuse him of it, whether he was or not.
"How have you been Severus?"
"I am sure Lucius has apprised you of my condition."
"Condition? Ah you mean how you fled Hogwarts due to a potions mishap that ended up putting you rather at a lack for food?"
"Quite."
"Yes, but how are you? Feeling that is?"
"I have most definitely been better, but I have been improving. It is far easier to find food outside those… hallowed halls." He said disdainfully.
"Yes I would have to agree there. I assume the students are rather off limits?" She said and he could tell she was trying to find out if her son would be in danger next year.
"Naturally. They are also far more akin to… an aperitif than a meal. "
Narcissa laughed but he could tell there was some concern under it, despite the fact that he was joking.
"Very funny Severus. Now, what book do you need?"
"Your book on family crests."
Narcissa paused for a half second in her stride, she had obviously not expected that. Snape smirked. The gossip as to why he wanted it might be enough payment for the book itself if he made a show of not wanting to tell her.
"Really? Why do you need that old thing?"
"I found a crest somewhere and wish to find out who it belongs to. My own book is woefully incomplete. I remember Lucius mentioning yours a long time ago, it had quite a bit more information."
"Do you have any idea what crest?"
"Obviously. I have two actually, images of them and fragments of names." They finally reached a double door on the right, pillars on either side of the gian oak doors. Narcissa pulled on the handle after squeezing it for a few seconds longer than necessary, although he knew for a fact if she hadn't done that the door wouldn't have opened.
"And would you care to tell me the names?"
"Perhaps, especially if you left me borrow the book, and one that might show family lines."
"This book shows them. And if we can't find your answers within ten minutes you are welcome to borrow it."
Snape raised a brow. "Ten minutes? That is a rather short amount of time for research, Cissa."
"The book is magic Severus, if you can give me a name or description we should be able to find it. Even a partial name would help."
"Very well." They made their way over to one of the stacks. The bookshelves were made of an exquisitely carved dark wood that featured giant serpents on the end. There were pedestals at the bottom holding open books or artifacts. Narcissa made her way to one, a floating book bound in black leather with a blank shield on the front. She touched her hand to it and said 'Malfoy.' The book snapped open when she removed her hand, paper flipping in a blur to land on the page showing the Malfoy crest, coat of arms, name, and the houses that married into, or out of, it. Narcissa nodded and closed the book.
"Your turn, Severus."
Snape nodded and placed his hand on the blank shield.
"Prince."
The book opened and flipped to a page showing the Prince crest. The serpent with the crown of raven feathers. The coat of arms was next to it, two feathers crossed in the upper corner, with a small serpent dripping venom from its fangs in the bottom left and a ladle in the middle dividing the two. A crown sat atop the shield. He nodded and closed the book then put his hand on the front again. What name to say? Might as well start with the only full one he knew that wouldn't get him fifteen answers. Lee was a rather common surname.
"Basarab."
The book flipped open and its pages moved for a rather long time, it was an old family. Snape looked at the name, the crest matched. Basarab, the helmet and the shield. He looked to the other page at the two crests immediately to the right, searching for the ending 'esti'. He quickly found it, and smirked. Then smiled. And then laughed.
Oh, of course. Of course. It made perfect fucking sense.
"Severus? Severus! What in Merlin's name has gotten into you?"
Snape shook his head and turned to Narcissa with a smirk. She was looking at him confused, he was fairly sure she had never seen him laugh, or at least not for a very long time, and not this way. Honest amusement with a little bit of surprise and the realization at just how fucked up and bizarre eveything was. He straightened his posture, drew a strand of hair out of his face and smirked.
"Did you know there used to be more pureblood lines?"
She humphed and crossed her arms. "Of course, some have died out due to…" She trailed off as Snape shook his head.
"No, I mean three were killed. Eliminated in the span of one night."
She gasped and raised her hand to her mouth. "I'd… heard stories as a child. My mother would tell me to stay in bed, behave, or whatever got them would get me…"
Snape pointed at the crest. "That, is what got them. And do you want to know why he did it?"
She shook her head slightly.
"He orchestrated it, because he felt like it, and needed a distraction to steal a vial of Merlin's blood, again, because he felt like it. And as of this moment, he is back in Britain."
She paled. "He's back… it… why? Where?"
"At the moment? Chasing after a, most likely, uninterested party for a date, because he feels like it."
Narcissa opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, and shook her head. "You're joking…"
"I am not. Why do you think I was laughing? The man quite literally cares for nothing but his plans and his own amusement."
She was obviously as curious as she was concerned by the intent look he was receiving. "Will… you show me what he looks like?"
Snape shook his head. "No. The man likes to play a game of using monikers and making people figure out who he is. He apparently gets very angry when people ruin his fun. Now, thank you for helping me solve that little mystery Cissa. I need to return home for now, I'm…"
"Bored already? Or attempting to get away before I can pull more information from you."
He gave her a pointed look. "Getting hungry."
She nodded, seemingly unfazed but he could hear her heartbeat speed up. Her questioning had effectively been silenced.
"Very well, I don't think we have anything on the menu that would interest you, but you're welcome to stay and say hello to Draco." She said politely. He knew she was nervous to let him, but he'd never harmed the boy before and had no reason to now. It was a half test from her, to see if he would.
"Thank you Cissa, but I would like to go home and eat my dinner."
"I understand. Let me walk you to the floo."
"Unnecessary. I know you're itching to confirm what I said. Go, gossip."
"You're too kind Severus."
"Or maybe I just don't want to…. Risk you pulling more information from me." He said amusedly. She smiled back at the hidden compliment that he had admitted she might be able to. They nodded, and soon Snape was walking back through the floo.
Back in his house he reactivated the warding on the floo, shaking his head all the while.
Once done he sat down in his chair and smirked. Oh, it made so much sense now. The man was simply… bored royalty attempting to recapture glory. He couldn't recapture his empire, it was gone. Name changes and a different type of government gone. So he just made plans, fought like the general he was, and tried to recapture unattainable glory and the mental challenge of managing the machinations needed to run an army and win. He just had a far different army now. Perhaps one of thralls, maybe of vampires who pledged allegiance or owed him favors. That didn't make him any less impressive, any less insane, any less dangerous, and it might make him even a little bit… interesting. The man was definitely interested in him, for some reason. The man had drunk his blood!
Snape shook his head at the absurdity of it all, and for the second time that day, laughed out loud.
He was so fucked. It was quite fortuitous that he didn't plan on surviving the war.
At least he knew what to call the man now.