"Obduro Fermentum"
"Endurance Strengthener"—this is potion designed to give the drinker a significant boost in strength, but also in endurance. Unlike its elder brother, Strengthening Solution, it acts as both a potion and a spell and does not have an affect unless the incantation to seal the spell is delivered at the end of the brew. The potion acts as an enhancer for the drinker's physical strength, while the spell has an affect on the drinker mentally…
"….At the time of its conception, by a reclusive ex-Auror Milo Bodden eighty-seven years ago (the exact date is unknown, because Bodden did not keep notes), the spell was meant to be taken by Aurors should they ever be captured by an enemy. Torture was sometimes expected, and Bodden claimed his Fermentum potion would strengthen both the body and the mind, and give the drinker an unwavering sense of power and a steadfast resolve.
" 'This potion should be taken by all young Aurors at the start of their training, and taken at the prescribed dose on a regular basis for all their years as Lawmen for the Ministry of Magic,' Bodden declared via-delivered letter upon completion of the now banned potion. 'My Fermentum will protect them from the cruel ways of our enemies, and rest assured any and all acts of merciless torture, Cruciatus or otherwise, will be endured as easily as a quick game of Quidditch!'
"…Bodden was known in the small village he retreated to in southern Scotland as a 'madman' who kept to himself with no friends or family to speak of….
"The potion, having not officially been recognized by the Ministry, became a Black Market item, and in a few short years was notorious for causing madness. It was found that the incantation made the potion highly addictive, and poisoning soon became a concern. Side-effects reported by St. Mungo's include irrational aggressiveness, total disregard for reason, confusion of identity, eventual deterioration of moral behavior, etc. 'People become total beasts!' one Healer, Mildred Wiggum testified at Bodden's trial. 'They become all craving, passion, vigor! They have no regard for any decent perspective and if they want something, they must have it whatsoever the consequences!' "
"It is illegal to brew Obduro Fermentum in any amount, and punishment for this or possession of the Black Market item is five years in Azkaban Prison…"
-M.O.M. LOGG OF ILLEGAL, BLACK MARKET, AND POISONOUS POTIONS
-Page 892, Section II, Index # 37A
-Records, Ministry of Magic
Severus Snape stood in his office thinking.
It was fortunate that Albus Dumbledore lent him the use of the pensieve—right now the professor's mind was teeming with recent memories that troubled him more than the prospect of another evening spent sparring with Potter.
The first memory he would deposit tonight before the fifth year's arrival for their lesson was not the most recent one, but it was the one he'd been going over most since Dumbledore left. It came before the discovery of Potter's little club, before Fawkes delivered Dumbledore's letter, and before Lucius' confession. It came before Severus looked into Draco's eyes and saw what his father had done to him-and, in turn, what the boy himself had been doing-hidden in his young mind.
It was the night Dumbledore returned to the castle from his trip to Azkaban Prison.
"This desk..." Professor Snape indicated the desk sitting between himself and the headmaster. Dumbledore frowned, his eyes sweeping across the desk slowly. Severus now crossed his arms and nodded at the shelves surrounding them, filled with glass jars of various specimens and herbs and pickled things. "And several of those, as well. Once he realized what he was doing, they dropped."
"And he couldn't hear you?" Dumbledore spoke after a moment.
"No, in fact it seemed he was totally unaware of his surroundings."
"I see…"
Dumbledore turned now and his eyes began, like with the desk, to sweep across the room. He looked from shelf to shelf individually as he turned full circle, slowly, until he came to face Snape again. Dumbledore sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He had returned from his journey to Azkaban prison where he found, as he'd expected, that the Dementors had indeed abandoned their truce with the Ministry. Some of them remained, patrolling the dank halls of the prison for the most woeful inmates, but when Dumbledore approached they abandoned those as well. He caught one and was able to speak to It. It told him that there was little he could do—Voldemort offered their kind a much sweeter reward for their services than the Minister's same petty criminals. And then It told him that It was looking forward to sucking the life out of him. Dumbledore destroyed It.
Tonight he came back to Hogwarts to find that Umbridge was trying to toss out Sybil Trelawney, the Centaurs in the forest were now revolting against him for asking Firenze for his help—and Harry Potter had almost crushed Severus Snape with a his own desk.
"Severus…" Dumbledore spoke now, landing his crystal blue gaze on the Potions Master. "…what happened to drive Harry into such a state?"
Snape paused, his dark eyes narrowing. "We argued, headmaster," was his honest reply. Upon the forbidding look Dumbledore issued him, he added: "He was being insolent, as usual, and I merely reminded him of his place."
"His 'place'?"
Dumbledore understood that what happened was very significant, that Snape could've been seriously injured, and that what Harry had done—well there were nothing but ominous implications. He understood Severus' position…but what of Harry's?
"Severus, we have gone through this before." Rarely could one find the tone of impatience in Dumbledore's usually benign voice, but Severus Snape was not just anyone—he and Dumbledore knew a relationship more complicated than that of professor and headmaster. Dumbledore only became stern with his former student when the situation called for it, and now was not the time to be affable. "I instructed you—when we first agreed that you would tutor Harry in Occlumency—not to lose your temper."
"I realize that, but-" Severus tried quietly, without much expectation of being heard.
"We agreed, Severus, that just as Harry's only objective would be to master Occlumency, yours would be to exercise patience and care."
Dumbledore paused, his gaze steady and unyielding. Severus knew full well what was expected of him, and though he resented it fiercely, he found himself feeling the tiniest burn of guilt as the older wizard's gaze penetrated him. Could he not defend himself? Could he not simply explain—and be heard—that the Potter brat had called him names, insulted him, basically tossed all inkling of respect and humility to the wind? Harry was Dumbledore's own little glass boy that he was extremely careful with; that he smothered with watchfulness and worry and pride…too much so, Severus often thought.
This reminded him of another boy that the headmaster treated almost the same way. Perhaps Severus' impatience with Potter this year stemmed somewhat from that memory and the absence now of the feeling Dumbledore's attention gave him as a young man?
But the matter at hand—Harry Potter was changing. There was a power growing within him that had, even from the small glimpse Snape was given that evening, an awesome yet terrible face. Snape's mistake had been that rather than easing the practice of Occlumency into Potter's grasp-rather than being patient and acting with care as Dumbledore had instructed-he basically thrust it at him. He pushed Potter, and kept pushing him. Snape thought bitterly that this task was given to him more as a punishment for his past aggressions towards the young wizard than anything else…or a test.
"Sir, you did not tell me that Potter carried such power within him." Snape uttered, trying not to let his resentment show through his voice or on his face. "You did not tell me that in addition to protecting him from the Dark Lord's penetration, I would be teaching him Occlumency to suppress this rather…" the Potions Master paused, and Dumbledore seemed to steel himself against his next words, "…dark…magical force."
"You think it dark, do you?" Dumbledore asked first, though Snape was sure the response to his indirect accusation of deception was coming.
"Destructive," he spoke calmly. "He was certainly determined to do me harm."
"Perhaps, Severus, he wouldn't have been so determined if you had not bated him into such a detestable course of action?" Dumbledore's gaze was innocuous, but Snape knew better than to trust that. "Perhaps I would not have needed to tell you what I feared if you had done as I asked you?"
"And Potter—has he done what you asked of him?" demanded Snape. His temper—his brewing resentment of the whole situation—was beginning to get the better of him. He leaned forward over the desk, much as he had done to Harry mere hours before. "Has he ever given you the courtesy of trusting your judgment, of obeying your wishes because he should know you would never lead him to harm? No! He has dragged his feet the entirety of our months' work, and for what? To spite you; to show you he is no puppet and to give me as hard a time as possible!"
Dumbledore merely listened. This was not the first time Severus had raised his voice at him, though if the older wizard remembered correctly, the last time had been quite a while ago.
"Would you see this? Headmaster, would you ever let the truth of the situation penetrate your veritable fortress of faith in that impudent, reckless, thick-headed child-!"
"That is enough, Severus." Dumbledore interrupted him softly. "Please, do not call Harry names." Snape clamped his mouth shut and breathed the hot air of his rising temper out through his nostrils. Of course, Dumbledore would reprimand him for calling precious Harry names rather than for speaking to him so harshly. He stood up straight again and waited. Again, and for what seemed like the thousandth time though it would certainly not be the last, Dumbledore sighed. "You are right—I was wrong to withhold my fears from you." He shook his head grimly. "But now you have seen what Harry is capable of, should this power within him be bred in the wrong fashion. Anger, resentment, bitterness, and hatred will turn it into something monstrous that cannot be controlled."
"How long have you suspected he had such power?"
"Far longer than I'd care to admit, my friend," was the headmaster's somewhat apologetic reply. "Since the beginning, I'm afraid."
There was a long break of silence, and Snape let his anger leave him. There was certainly nothing to be gained from being angry with Dumbledore for something he could not change. He instead opted to change the subject.
"Potter has seen Rookwood."
"Augustus Rookwood?"
"Yes. He has dreamt of a room, where Rookwood and the Dark Lord convened…headmaster, they were discussing the prophecy."
"Rookwood no doubt told him how to remove it…"
"No doubt."
Dumbledore frowned deeply. "Did Harry understand what was said?"
"To an extent…"
"He is still having those dreams…this is not good, Severus." Dumbledore shook his head, his eyes unfocused, and spoke as though he were debating with himself. "If he gets too close—if Voldemort realizes what's happening to Harry—he will surely try to lure him…to kill him. Harry isn't ready…"
"Forgive me-will he ever be ready?" Dumbledore did not answer. "Headmaster, it seems to me…" Snape walked around the desk, having calmed down, and crossed his arms thoughtfully. Dumbledore was glad to see that they were on the same page again. "…it seems that no matter what form this power of his takes, dark or otherwise, Potter would not be capable of controlling the way he is now…he is impatient, temperamental, and quite frankly too young to understand what he's dealing with."
"Well, let us pray it isn't dark, Severus…though you are quite right. That is why it is crucial for him to master Occlumency. It is, I'm afraid, my only hope of shielding him from Voldemort's grasp. He is laying a trap for Harry—we must, we must help him to shut Voldemort out."
Again, Dumbledore paused, and then spoke up again anxiously.
"Have you seen…anything…during your lessons with him that explains the source of some of his aggressive behavior?"
Snape sighed. "He has given a great deal of effort to keeping it from me, but I have seen glimpses of several encounters he's had with Draco Malfoy."
"Draco Malfoy?" Dumbledore frowned.
"Yes, sir. I do not think Potter is aware, but I've seen more deeply into his memories than he would like. He has even attempted to duel with Draco." Secretly, Snape felt bitter satisfaction in passing this knowledge on to Dumbledore. Your precious Potter is a troublemaker, and I have seen with my own eyes what arrogance and stupidity breed… he thought, though he spoke: "The signs of fighting we saw on the Quidditch pitch some months ago…I've seen evidence, though he struggles mightily to keep it from me, that he was responsible for them." He watched Dumbledore's reaction carefully.
"…and Draco?"
Severus bristled, but nodded. "Regrettably, Draco was involved, but it was Potter that challenged him."
"You know this because…?"
Severus realized his mistake too late. Whilst trying to shed some sort of revealing light on what he believed was a nasty trouble-making instinct Potter had, he had inadvertently given away Draco's involvement, and the fact that he'd covered for the boy. He admitted as much now. "Draco…confided in me…sir."
"Yet you did not turn him over to Professor Umbridge." This was not a question. Severus despised the faint smile playing at Dumbledore's lips. He wanted to tell the old coot that he had no problem turning Potter over, but to do so would have brought more trouble down on Draco from his father. He couldn't do that, and it seemed that Dumbledore knew this already. "I suspect you would've done, but I dare say that you and I share the same protective instinct for certain students in this school, Severus."
"I am protective of Draco for good reason, Headmaster…"
"Yes…" Dumbledore leaned against the desk, next to Snape, his weathered hand examining the surface. He squinted down at it, seeing traces of Harry's magic still left in the grains of wood. "…yes, I thought we might come to that subject before our interview was over."
"You are aware, then, that Draco has been put through quite an ordeal by his father?"
"I saw the signs on him…he looks dreadful…" there was real sympathy—and some anger—in the old wizard's voice that did Snape's heart good to hear. "Though I didn't want to believe his own father was capable of such a thing."
"I've made him remedies for the pain, and to treat the long term effects, but much damage has been caused."
"Senseless…"
"I fear that in his own obtuse way, Lucius is attempting to prepare Draco for an inevitable future at the hands of the Dark Lord."
"Oh, let us not call it 'inevitable'. Those we can save, we must, and it is not too late for him."
Snape nodded, relieved. "I do not think it's too late, either."
"But that is not what you should be focusing on at this point in time, Severus."
Snape turned his head sharply to glare at the headmaster. "I don't understand how you can say such a thing, sir."
"Our first priority is for Harry to-"
"-master Occlumency, yes, yes I know!" Despite himself, Severus tossed his hand dismissively and turned away from Dumbledore's aggravating determination to hold Harry Potter's well-being above everyone else's.
"I must tell you, I grow tired of your impatience with me, my friend…" The younger wizard draped in black did not turn around, but held his head low, listening. "…and, for that matter, with Harry." Standing upright again, Dumbledore walked around to face Snape, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"You cannot ask me not to look after Draco. He needs help just as much—if not more—as Potter."
"No, I cannot ask you not to look after him. And I will not. What I am asking you to do is bear with me. Allow me to see to Draco, and trust—yes, Severus trust—that if you only finish what you've started with Harry everything will turn out well."
"Forgive me, sir, but Potter is completely opposed to Occlumency! To me, and to your wish to have me teach it to him! He has refused to learn a single thing since we began it. Why must I do this? I never thought I'd find myself agreeing with the boy, but perhaps he is right to question why it's me and not you. Won't you let me see to Draco instead?"
This was as close to pleading as Snape had ever or would ever come. And, in turn, Dumbledore's gaze was as severe as the Potions Master had ever seen it.
"No, Severus. No..." He paused, his expression still uncompromising, before continuing very quietly. "It must be this way and no other. Especially now more than ever—and you know why. Do not ask me that again."
Snape remained silent.
Dumbledore turned to leave the office. As he reached the threshold, he turned back, and when he did the candlelight caught him fully. He looked very tired, and very ill at ease. Snape did not like realizing that he was adding to the old wizard's pains rather than helping.
"Surely you can see the good in Harry?" Dumbledore asked wearily. "Surely you have glimpsed-during your many sessions with him, alone, in this room-something other than effrontery and stubbornness?"
Snape paused. "I did notice…" he began, and Dumbledore was smiling before the words escaped him, "Potter seems to have got himself involved in…romantic…pursuits." Snape rolled his eyes when the headmaster's smile grew wider.
"He's in love, is he?"
"Quite so." The Potions Master found himself looking down at his shoes, arms still crossed. He admitted, rather begrudgingly: "Angelina Johnson is a gifted girl, though in my opinion, just as irreverent as he is." He would've added that he grew tired of the unwanted glimpses into Potter's very personal dealings with the girl (that incident on the common room sofa sprang to mind, and what happened in the boys' showers, for Merlin's sake!) but decided to spare Dumbledore the details.
"Good…that is very good. It will help. Thank you, Severus."
The headmaster was gone again before Snape looked up in surprise.
Severus pulled the fragile trail of memory from his temple and placed it carefully into the Pensieve.
He watched it swirl around for a moment, his eyes unfocused. The glittering light of thoughts and dreams danced across his dark face as he drifted off into another memory that brought a chill to him. It was not long after he left Minerva McGonagall with Potter and the Angelina girl that he received it—the letter.
When he broke up the small stand off on the eighth floor, Severus went all the way back down to the dungeons and sat in his office to wait. He knew that Dumbledore would contact him before the night was over, no matter what the circumstance.
And as he expected, shortly after midnight Fawkes' calling card appeared over his head, illuminating the small dungeon office for a split second in the light of the red flame. A single phoenix feather with a small scroll of parchment attached to it floated silently down over the desk and landed at Snape's fingertips.
He reached out for it immediately and opened it. The familiar, slanted handwriting of Albus Dumbledore swept across the parchment and as Severus read he began slowly to stand from his sitting position. His eyes went from one word to the next rapidly as he rose; his mind connecting the dots. When he was done, the Potions Master was sweeping around the desk headed for the door across the room. He could not hesitate; the message in the letter was quite clear. Anger rose in him as he made his way swiftly through the halls of the dungeons, and the words in Dumbledore's letter echoed in his mind:
Severus,
Circumstance being what it is, I have had to leave you, and the matter of Draco is therefore yours to handle.
Tonight, when I requested that you bring the Pensieve to my office, I did not tell you what I needed it for. The situation is very delicate, and it involves the young lady I was with, Angelina Johnson. It also involves Draco, Severus.
I viewed a memory tonight—a memory thought to be Obliviated; erased forever. It was fortunate the caster of the spell is a novice, and at the time was not in a very rational frame of mind. I am speaking of Draco. He cast the spell on Angelina, and he did it to conceal a very grave offense on his part.
I saw, on Hogwarts grounds, along a path that students should feel nothing but safe walking, a horrible encounter between the two of them. I haven't much time to explain everything, but I will tell you this: Draco did something unspeakable, and if Angelina had not been determined to escape from him, he would have done her even greater harm. He is to be punished severely. But do not think that is all there is to this story—Draco was not acting as his self. He has been…influenced. This is not the work of an Unforgivable curse but of another, less obvious source. One I believe you are familiar with.
You are a Master of Potions, Severus.
I wonder if you would be able to single out the symptoms of one who has been poisoned with Fermentum?
I must end this letter—I have only been a fugitive for a few hours, but I find that where time is concerned there is little difference to being Headmaster—I still don't have much of it to spare, my friend.
Please see to this matter as quickly—yet quietly—as you can.
I trust you Severus.
-Albus Dumbledore.
P.S. I fear now, more than ever, Harry's Occlumency lessons are crucial. You must overcome your resentment of him my friend, and you must seek his trust without bitterness. Can you do that for me? Please forgive him his shortcomings and do your best to help him master this technique. And forgive me mine…I wish I could have done things another way, but as you well know, in these dark times nothing is certain until it is past.
Severus headed straight for the last hall before the turnoff that lead down to the kitchens.
He turned a corner and moved through the dimly lit space towards the entrance of the Slytherin common room, where the suit of armor stood guard. "Dispholidus typus," he uttered and the suit of armor bowed stiffly before stepping out of the way. Snape passed it without a second glance, his purpose a single sharp point in the center of his thoughts that lead him forward. Through the sitting area cluttered with green velvet couches and armchairs, past the studying tables, and down the corridor that lead to the boys' dormitories. The starry night sky illuminated his white face in broken shards as he passed the windows, his black robes billowing forebodingly with his movement.
He reached the room he was looking for, and pressed his fingertips to the cool mahogany surface of the door so that it opened with hardly a sound.
Inside, four boys were sleeping.
Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott snored in various octaves but they were of little concern to Snape in this moment. His eyes surveyed the room shrewdly until they landed on the lone sleeping form he sought out—that of Draco's.
He strode across the room and reached out to touch the slumbering young wizard. He only had to shake him once and Draco's eyes slid open as easily as if he had been waiting for his Potions professor to arrive. Snape knelt at Draco's bedside, his anger coursing through him almost to the boiling point. Their eyes met.
"Professor?" Draco whispered, squinting.
"Get out of bed, Draco. Now."
There was only a trace of resistance in the boy's shining eyes before he slowly did as he was told. Snape fought to control his anger as he stood up and stepped back for Draco, who climbed out of bed and faced his professor groggily. The older wizard turned and plucked a Slytherin robe from a nearby armchair and thrust it in Draco's hands.
"Put this on and follow me."
"What is this about, Prof-?"
"Do not speak." Snape was already moving through the room again. Draco draped himself in the robe and clenched his jaw as he walked behind. He had to quicken his pace to keep up with the professor, who moved as if determined not to look back. Once they had gone back through the common room and emerged out into the hall again, Snape kept going past the suit of armor and up the hall. They walked like this all the way through the dungeons, past Snape's office, and out into the grand entrance hall. Draco said nothing, only followed silently as he was led through the hall and out onto the grounds.
It was only when Snape turned and began heading the direction of a familiar path that he began to understand what was happening.
He stopped walking abruptly, his heart about to rip itself from his chest with the strength of his unease.
Professor Snape sensed Draco's discomfort even with his back to the young Slytherin, and he turned on the spot to face him, his features struggling with the anger he felt.
"Know why we're here, do you?" he snarled. It was as if some amazing switch had occurred—as if for the moment, for tonight, the infuriating Potter had been replaced by Draco. Snape knew that Draco was a product of his family. He had always done his best to guide the child without interfering too much, but tonight all that effort had vanished and he was faced with the bald truth.
Draco swallowed. "No…"
"Do not lie to me, Draco."
They were standing on the edge of the path that Dumbledore spoke of in the letter. Snape could see in Draco's face that this was a place of significance. He stepped closer, his eyes fixed on those pale blue orbs, and silently did a thing he had hoped never to have to do with his young charge. Draco's mind opened up to him like a book, and without difficulty Snape soon found what he was looking for. There was extreme confusion, bitterness, a sense of loss and irrational anger inside. He saw Angelina, felt the unusual curiosity and need to watch her and the even more unusual sense of exhilaration in…
Draco began to resist him, but Snape persisted and the boy had no choice but to allow him to see what he had been keeping in the back of his mind for months. Angelina Johnson filled a good portion of memories and dreams that were disturbing to say the least. And in the center of all this was the path they stood on, a tree, a struggling young girl, and a hastily thrown Memory Charm.
Snape broke the Legilimens and Draco immediately lowered his head to his hands, his chest rising and falling shakily.
"What did you just-?" He groaned and shook his head as if to clear it, looking up at the Potions Master with confused and frightened eyes. "Did you see…?"
Snape chose to quell his rising temper and nodded silently. Draco saw the incredible anger and disappointment in Snape's face, and he began to panic. Remorse filled him from head to foot and he felt his eyes burning in the cool night air.
"Please, Uncle Severus, you don't understand!" he almost begged, his chest hot and stinging, his veins on fire with almost overwhelming emotion. "You have to listen to me, I didn't mean to hurt her, I-!"
"Do you realize what you have done?" The sheer iciness of the dark wizard's voice silenced Draco, and the boy stood a pitiful mess, his eyes welling with childish tears. He nodded miserably. "Do you realize that it was Dumbledore who told me what you did to that girl? Dumbledore!" Snape turned on his heel and began walking; searching out the tree he'd seen moments ago in Draco's mind. "And what's worse—I have no way of protecting you if she's told anyone else. You could be expelled, Draco! And do you realize what happens if you are forced to leave this school?"
"Yes, sir…" Draco wiped his face, angry with himself for becoming so unglued, and followed. "But I tried to—Uncle, I tried to get rid of-"
Snape held a hand up for silence as he surveyed the scene he'd glimpsed in Draco's mind. His eyes traveled along the ground, over the trees, and around and around again. He saw each progression as clear as day—from Draco's attack on the Johnson girl to the moment the spell was cast. He closed his eyes briefly, praying for patience, and turned to face his young pupil again.
"Now you will take me through it."
"What?"
"Beginning with what idiotic fancy brought you to the situation in the first place."
"But-!"
"And you will tell me everything, do you understand? Leave out no details—you tell me what you did and you tell me the truth!"
Draco shook his head, his tears from a moment ago now forgotten and his own anger surfacing. He shook his head again and again, his jaw clenched shut. "No. No, I won't-!"
Swiftly, Snape pulled his wand from his robes and made a sharp, sweeping motion with his wrist. Draco felt an invisible hand strike him across the face and the Potions Master bellowed "SPEAK!"
Draco closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Snape could actually see the boy's heart pounding through the fabric of the robe. When their eyes met again, Draco's expression was that of extreme angst. "I…" he began, a breeze catching his white-blond hair so that it strayed into his face. "I don't know what's wrong with me…"
Severus extracted that memory as carefully as the one before it and placed it into the pensieve.
"I don't think about the consequences…" he said, his eyes wet and his fists in knots at his sides. "I don't ever think about what will happen. And now I can't stop it."
How could he not have seen it? How could he not have realized what was happening? Was he so distracted by his anger with Draco's father, his anger at Dumbledore, and his resentment of Potter that he didn't recognize what was so obvious? He did wonder how the boy was able to endure such torture at such a young age. He was furious with Lucius for what he'd done, and this was the last straw.
"You will not sleep until I give you permission." Draco attempted to protest, but Severus cut him off. "You will not mettle about with your friends, you will not talk to Delores Umbridge. You will do as I say, when I say it, is that clear?"
"Yes sir…"
"I am tempted to pull you from the Quidditch team…"
"You can't!"
"I will if I see you so much as look in Angelina Johnson's direction again, Draco!"
Along with this, along with the other things he did not wish for Harry Potter to see should he finally gain some competency in Occlumency, was what happened after he ushered the confused and tortured Malfoy child to bed.
Death Eaters had already been summoned to the Malfoy estate. They met in Lucius' secret dungeon below grounds. Severus Apparated from Hogsmeade and approached the gates of the Malfoy home with fury coursing through his veins so ferociously he had to pause and gather himself for a few moments before entering. This feeling reminded him, bitterly enough, of Potter.
Narcissa answered the door. She looked at him and in an instant he knew that she had been in turmoil for a long time. He hadn't seen her in months. "Severus? Why are you here so late?"
"Where is Lucius, Narcissa? I must speak with him, now."
Her lip quivered slightly and she took a deep breath. Stepping aside for him, Narcissa bowed her head as he passed. "They're talking down there," she spoke, referring to the secret rooms below their feet. "I asked him why you weren't called, but-"
Severus held up a hand. "It's all right. I don't need to be summoned to every tea party in the dungeon, Narcissa. I do, however, have question for your husband regarding your son."
She actually let forth a diminutive whimper then. Closing her eyes to hide the tears from him, Narcissa shook her head. "I knew you'd find out. I've wanted to tell you—to come to you so many times, but Lucius…"
"Severus?" Lucius had appeared in a doorway behind Narcissa, dressed in his Death Eater's robes and draped in shadow. His piercing blue eyes moved from Severus to his wife as he stepped into the foyer; into the light. "What brings you?"
"A matter of the utmost importance," Severus noticed that Narcissa did not dare turn to face her husband. Instead her gaze remained fixed on her hands and she said nothing more as Lucius circled her to stand face-to-face with him. "I'm here about Draco, Lucius."
"Draco?" Lucius made an exasperated sound. "What has he done now?"
"You should tell the others to leave, first. It's very delicate, to say the least."
"The others?" The elder Malfoy raised an eyebrow and turned slightly to regard his wife before lifting the corners of his mouth into a tight smile. "Ah, I see you've been told about our gathering—well, Severus in that case I must ask you to join us."
Lucius' smile remained as he stepped back and nodded toward the doorway he'd appeared in moments before. Severus surveyed him impatiently. "I don't have time now-"
"No, I think tonight you'll make time, old friend." The smile remained, but the eyes flashed dangerously. "Because, you see, I find myself wondering why it is that you've shown up here with so-called 'urgent' news about my misbehaving son-"
"Lucius, please…" Narcissa spoke but Lucius held up a hand of warning that caused her to quiet down again, his dangerous gaze still fixed upon Severus.
"-when mere hours before I received word that Dumbledore has been ousted from Hogwarts and is now a fugitive from the Ministry." His cold smile turned into a nasty smirk. "That was very important information, don't you think, Severus?"
"Very. And you did hear of it."
"Yes…but not from you."
It was Severus' turn to smirk. Coolly, he met Lucius' stone gaze head on and uttered quietly, "What makes you think that information didn't come from me?"
Lucius thought about it for a moment before speaking again. "You sent Umbridge to tell me about Dumbledore?" he asked skeptically.
Severus did not miss a beat.
"Not directly. But I did know that going to you myself would prove foolish. I had to wait. I've been sent here by Dumbledore to find out about Draco, and so I came under his orders." He held up the letter that Dumbledore had written. "I figured she would want to tell you as soon as possible. I let her."
"You 'let her'?" Lucius laughed aloud. "How can someone so obsessed with power be so weak?"
"Perhaps that is why she is so obsessed with power."
Lucius laughed again and strode towards the doorway. He didn't say a word to Narcissa as he passed. She followed him with blazing eyes, but then Lucius disappeared through the dark threshold and called back to Severus: "Come down! Everyone is waiting."
Severus knew better than to trust that the Master Malfoy had fully accepted his explanation, and even as he followed the other man down into the darkness he kept up his guard.
'Everyone' turned out to be Rookwood, Antonin Dolohov, MacNair, and Bellatrix Lestrange looking every bit as insane as ever.
In fact, as Lucius led Snape down a winding stair into his enormous cellar her wild, harsh voice could be heard proclaiming insanities vigorously. And it was his, Severus', name that escaped her lips several times before they reached the dimly lit room where everyone was convened.
"The Dark Lord will not be pleased with him if ever he shows his crooked nose again!" she was growling, much to Snape's amusement. "The old fool has been ousted from that preposterous school and not a word from his little pet. Do you see, now Dolohov?" her voice took on that familiar, manic air as they neared the threshold.
Dolohov grunted. In the dark, Lucius turned slightly to peer at Snape's reaction over his shoulder as they advanced.
"Do you see? Severus Snape is a filthy traitor, and-!"
"If you have something you wish to say to me, Bellatrix…" Snape emerged before Lucius, into the light, his pallid face completely devoid of concern or outrage, "…perhaps you should say it to my filthy traitor face."
Bellatrix closed her mouth and narrowed her eyes at him. They were a darker, more intense gray than her cousin Sirius', but they still held the same dead, hollow look that only comes from years spent in Azkaban. Her hair, streaked with gray now, hung long and as lifeless as black straw down her shoulders. She walked up to Severus, totally unafraid or impressed with his nonchalance, and smiled. Some of her once-pearly teeth were gray or black, but she grinned almost childishly. "My dear Severus Snape." She pushed the 'p' in his last name out nastily. "You've graced us with your presence."
Severus inclined his head politely. "I have."
"Oh good," she purred. Everyone around them stood silent; even Lucius. They watched the exchange intensely. "So you're here to explain to us why you did not report that Dumbledore has left Hogwarts, then?"
Snape's gaze left hers to glance around the room at his fellow Death Eaters; all were waiting for his answer. He looked at Bellatrix again and shook his head slightly. "I will not do anything of the sort."
Everyone went into motion, especially Bellatrix, who's swimming gray eyes flashed angrily before she let out a sharp yelp of absurd laughter. The others spoke in protest; Dolohov's grunting becoming more aggressive. "Ha! Oh you won't? You traitor! You had no intention of reporting this, did you?"
"Bellatrix, get control of yourself, you sound ridiculous," Snape said, his tone as impatient as when he reprimanded a student. "Lucius was informed, and I can see that he told you, so what are you whining about?"
"You—!" she sputtered, "Of course Lucius told us! He, unlike you dog, is loyal to the Dark Lord! It was the fat toad woman who passed the message along, Snape." Again, he felt her saliva hit his face as she pushed out his name contemptuously.
"On the contrary, dogs are very loyal, Bellatrix."
"Do not jest with me, Severus. When it comes to the Dark Lord, I have more loyalty in my little finger than you will ever-!"
"Hush, Bella…" Rookwood spoke up from a dark corner of the cold room. He was leaning against the wall, watching Snape and Bellatrix quietly. His brown eyes were half-covered by the shadow of his black hood. Bellatrix fumed, but didn't finish. Rookwood addressed Snape. "Why didn't you contact one of us immediately?"
Snape took the time to wipe the tiny bit of Bella's spittle from the bridge of his nose before answering.
"I did what I could."
Bellatrix scoffed. "You expect us to believe you sent that woman to Lucius in your stead?"
"I expect you to accept what I tell you, Bellatrix," Severus spoke without looking at her. Rookwood was still staring at him intensely and at that moment it seemed important not to break eye contact, "because I do not report to you—any of you. I report to the Dark Lord. Those are his wishes. If you'd like to take issue with him, I beg you to remember poor Avery…"
There was silence all around.
After a pause, Rookwood seemed to accept Snape's statement. He almost visibly shivered under his robe, and Severus knew that he was remembering the last time he'd been in Voldemort's presence.
"I also report to the Dark Lord, you fool!" Bellatrix was the only one not satisfied with his 'explanation'. "And it was I who told him of Dumbledore's flight!"
"Good for you," Severus smiled. "I'm sure that made you feel very useful."
"What?" Her eyes shrank to narrow slits. "What did you say to me?"
"What did the Dark Lord say when you told him this?" Snape seemed genuinely curious, and it threw her visibly off-guard.
Bellatrix stood up straight and crossed her arms, still glaring at Severus. "What do you mean, filth?"
"I see your ability to come up with names to throw at me is ever-improving. What did he say to you, Bellatrix?"
"He…" she paused, almost unsure of herself. "He already knew."
"I see. And, who then, could have told him before you, ever faithful and loyal as you are?"
"It wasn't you, so don't pretend-!"
"No, I confess I did not go to him as quickly and desperately as you did, no not at all…but who did?" Snape feigned regret and even envy of what he was describing as her desperate need to matter to Voldemort as much as he himself did once again. He paused, looking at them all expectantly. None of them said a word. "None of you? No one?" he leered at them. "Of course not."
"But you are the one who was there!" Bellatrix shouted angrily.
"Precisely, and if anyone would tell him it would be me, but I did not need to!" Severus snapped, losing his cool for the first time during their argument.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean, Snape?" MacNair asked in his raspy voice from the other corner of the room.
"Well, since you're all so starved for information, allow me to elaborate." Severus directed his next statement directly to Bellatrix, who stood gawking at him as he told them all slowly and clearly: "The Dark Lord and the Potter boy are connected. Dumbledore has instructed me to teach the child Occlumency in order to protect him, but I have in fact been making sure that just the opposite happens."
"You…you're lying…" The look on her face was priceless, for her snide demeanor had vanished.
"Believe what you will, Bellatrix, but I tell you now—if you want to discredit me you will have to do much more than bellyache over things about which you know absolutely nothing." This was the end of the conversation, as far as Severus was concerned. He turned, while Bellatrix was still trying to sputter out a retort, and addressed Lucius. The master of the Malfoy household had remained silent during the entire exchange, his arms crossed and his expression thoughtful. "Lucius, I must speak with you alone."
Lucius nodded. "Very well."
"You're all just going to let him walk away? He hasn't explained anything."
"Bella, give it a rest, will you?" Lucius said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You've lost this fight, my love."
"Don't touch me, Lucius," Bellatrix shook away from his touch. "Where is my sister? Where is Narcissa?"
"Upstairs being miserable, I assume." Lucius sighed irritably and stepped aside as Bellatrix shoved past him. She sneered at Snape before disappearing to find Narcissa.
"Would you gentlemen mind waiting here?" Lucius asked the other Death Eaters. Rookwood shook his head but said nothing. "We can go over a few things while Bella licks her wounds with Narcissa. And, I think, without her here they'll be easier to discuss uninterrupted…"
Severus followed Bellatrix, at a distance, up to the foyer again where they parted ways in a cold silence. He showed himself to the second floor study, where Lucius and he had held many important conversations over the years.
A few moments later, Lucius entered behind him and closed the door.
"What is it, Severus? If it's about Draco, I'll speak to him, but-"
"Lucius, can you tell me the symptoms of Fermentum poisoning?"
Lucius blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly. His piercing blue eyes shown as he shook his head slowly. "What does that have to do with Draco?"
Severus turned from Lucius and strolled casually over to the large bookshelf lining the wall to their left. He lifted his hand and ran his fingertips along a shelf, seeking something out. As he searched, he spoke very clearly, as if addressing a classroom. "For example, I remember the most common and often the first visible sign of Fermentum poisoning is unexplained, often irrational aggressiveness."
"Is it indeed?" Lucius asked cautiously from behind him.
Severus stepped over to another section, still searching out the book he wanted. "Yes, it is. And do you know another?"
"No."
"Pity. I always had the impression that you were an excellent student, Lucius. Then again," he plucked a book from the shelf and turned around on his heel to face Draco's father. He smirked. "I must say lately you have not displayed the sort of behavior that would suggest it…"
"What are you getting at, Severus?" Lucius crossed his arms again as he was prone to when preparing to outwit someone. Severus was not intimidated by this. "I assume this is something important, otherwise you're babbling about nothing in order to stall me from asking the real reason you didn't report to the Dark Lord…"
Snape handed the book he found, an old publication of the Ministry's log of illegal potions, over to Lucius with his finger on a marked page. "Other symptoms would be extreme confusion or loss of identity, obsession, increased physical strength yet decrease in mental stability…need I go on?"
"No…I have your point." Lucius snapped the book closed without looking at the marked page and tossed it on the desk.
"Your son is ill, Lucius."
"He is not ill, you're being-"
"Oh really? Can you explain, then, why he almost raped another student?"
There was a moment—just a moment—when Lucius seemed to take a physical blow. The two men stared at each other across the desk, the book lying face down between them, and Lucius tried to curb the swiftly rising feeling of dread. He titled his head slightly at Professor Snape, clearing his throat weakly. He attempted a slight smile.
"I don't understand…what do you mean by that?"
Snape did not have sympathy; he repeated himself. "Do not feign ignorance; even for someone as frigid an aristocrat as you are, you cannot tell me you don't know what that means. A girl, Lucius. A girl in Gryffindor House—your son forced himself on her."
"How do you know this?" Master Malfoy's voice was becoming colder and quieter; a sure sign that he was disturbed by this information, Severus knew.
"The girl went to Dumbledore."
Lucius scoffed. "From Gryffindor House, you say?"
"That's right."
"Who is she? Pure blood?"
"I fail to see what that has to do with anything."
"What is her name, Severus?"
Severus paused, understanding the point Lucius wished to make. But, that point was inconsequential. "Angelina Johnson, and yes she is pure blood."
"Johnson? The girl captain of their Quidditch team?" Lucius' smile spread across his cruel face. "Potter's little girlfriend, isn't she?"
"Yes." Severus saw it in his expression, but stood waiting for the words to come out of his smiling mouth.
Lucius leaned over the desk and rested his knuckles against it, shaking his head at his poor misguided Professor Snape. "Obviously, Severus, the little tramp is making up lies to get back at my son for seeing to it that Potter was removed from her sorry excuse for a Quidditch team!"
"Oh really? And the journal he has written claiming on every page that he is obsessed with her is of no significance?"
"She is a clever girl, to have fooled Dumbledore so completely…"
"If that were the case, do you really think I would come here? But it is not, and if you deny it again I shall be forced to take the truth from your corroded mind just as I did your son, and believe me I won't ask permission first!"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, Lucius."
Lucius snatched up the book and strode across the room angrily to replace it. "Do you even want the truth?" he asked, turning around to face Snape again, the smile now gone. "I'm sorry to say, old friend, but working as Dumbledore's pet has weakened you considerably. You've become as sentimental and egotistical as he is and it's only a matter of time before you trip over your own arrogance."
"Fine." Snape reached into his robes to retrieve his wand. "Have it your way."
Lucius knew that he had never mastered the art of Occlumency when he attempted to learn it (ironically from Snape) years ago. It always infuriated him to know that Severus could hide things in his own mind if he wanted when Lucius himself couldn't. It also made him burn with contempt to realize that his son's godfather could also see inside the mind of anyone not stronger than he was in that department. This was not a skill the Dark Lord taught his followers, and for good reason.
"Keep your wand in your pocket, Severus."
Obligingly, Snape removed his hand from his robes. "And while you're at it, you can explain why I found myself having to give him remedies for the torture you've inflicted on him."
"What?"
"Denying it again?"
"I shall throw you from my house if you keep at that…"
"Cruciatus, Lucius." Snape sounded out each syllable of the curse sharply. "You're familiar? Pain beyond comprehension, over and over again, on a fifteen year old boy?"
"Well that's what the Fermentum was for, of course." Lucius said almost casually.
"Draco is too young! You could have killed him, illegal potion or no, what in Merlin's name is the matter with you?"
"We are on the brink of war!" exploded Lucius, his normally pale complexion firing up as he glared at his accuser. "And you know, as well as I, that the Dark Lord will call on everyone to serve him. The punishment for resistance is death."
"He can hardly be killed by the Dark Lord if you've already tortured him to his grave, can he?"
The taller, white-blond haired man walked up to the other and stood mere inches away, his eyes swimming with anger and guilt. These two men had been polar opposites in Draco's life. Where as Lucius was the boy's father, and claimed to love him, the simple fact was that Severus was the only one who really acted like he did. Narcissa named Severus her son's godfather as a gift, both for herself and for Severus. And…for her son. The cruelty of the situation was—Draco was not Severus' son, and so doing the right thing by the child often set him against dear old Lucius.
"I want you to answer a question for me, Uncle Severus," Master Malfoy whispered through clenched teeth. "Did you really expect Draco to come out with greasy black hair and a crooked nose?"
Severus took a step into Lucius, and the two men's hands inched towards their wands. The row he'd had with Sirius Black in Black's kitchen did not cut as deep, and would not mean as much in the world of Severus Snape. He warned the man in his face with his eyes not to continue speaking, but to no avail. It was clear that Lucius enjoyed this.
"Did you expect my son to one day call you 'Papa'? Perhaps after I'm gone you and my wife could be together again, eh? If you coddle him and baby him now, you can earn his respect later, is that the plan?"
"Lucius—you are making a mistake that will cost you more than Draco's life."
"Get out of my house."
Snape took a step back but did not leave. "When you are gone, Lucius, I do not expect Draco to call me 'papa'. He is not my son. He is yours. So when you are gone, I will tell him what his father did to him, if he survives what you've gotten him into. And we shall see whom he respects."
"Get out! Bella is right, Merlin help me for admitting it! You are not loyal to us, you are not loyal to the Dark Lord, you are loyal only to yourself and it will be your downfall, Severus!"
"And torturing your son so that he might make a better sacrifice to the Dark Lord's wrath than the one who deserves it, which is you—that is loyalty, is it? It seems more like cowardice to me."
"Leave now Severus or I'll-!"
"What? Give me a taste of Draco's medicine?"
Wands were drawn in a flash and the study was soon filled with angry incantations and streaks of light. Narcissa and Bellatrix watched Severus exit the house with sweat pouring down his temples and his hand shaking violently. Seconds later Lucius came down, his face red and his own hands pressed to his ribs.
"Lucius, what happened?" Narcissa gasped, going to him. He thwarted her attempt to see to his wound, and instead gestured for Bellatrix.
"Bella, come with me down to the others. I have a plan—we shall deliver the prophecy to the Dark Lord and when we do…"
"I hope you're telling me that you see it too? Snape's corruption?"
"Bella!" Narcissa cried, scandalized. "How could you say such a-?"
"Be quiet, Cissy!" Bellatrix snapped, still eyeing Lucius.
"Come with me, Bella. I have a plan."
Without another word, Bellatrix and Lucius went back down to resume their meeting. They left Narcissa in the hall fuming—afraid for her son, and now afraid for her former lover.