Chapter Nine: The Pure-blood Princes

October, 1979

Exotic curses were the norm at St Mungo's Hospital, so within a couple of weeks, the hubbub about the new curse Sectumsempra and the nearly-new Apothecary who had countered it had died down. Severus couldn't deny that he had enjoyed the admiration while it had lasted. But he didn't regret it when new maladies distracted the staff's attention from a curse which, for him, had raised far too many uncomfortable questions.

To his relief, no one else afflicted by Sectumsempra appeared in Accident and Emergency. Victims of other dangerous curses were showing up in ever greater numbers, however, so that every day in Potions and Physics passed in a whirlwind of brewing and dispensing.

One of the worst days came in mid-October. The demand for potions in A&E and Acute Spell Damage had been so great that Potions and Physics had run out of vital ingredients, and Severus had had to spend twice as long in the brewing room, tweaking the potions that used those ingredients so that they would still be potent without them.

Severus couldn't remember ever being so glad to see Bermsley walk through the department door. He rushed through his end-of-shift report, Flooed down to the lobby and was standing in the queue before a public fireplace near the reception desk, trying to stifle his yawns of exhaustion, when he heard his name called.

"Severus! There you are!"

Severus saw to his surprise that it was Lucius Malfoy. The crowd parted before Lucius as if in instinctive respect for his haughty bearing, his upper-class accent and the fine wool robes and silk hat that he wore. Or perhaps that was all in Severus's imagination, for few of those who made way for Lucius gave him a second glance.

"Hello, Lucius," said Severus.

"Good heavens, it's nearly eight o'clock!" Lucius said, looking at a pendulum clock on the wall, above a row of portraits of famous Healers. "They do keep you late, don't they? I've been waiting for you since seven-fifteen." He beckoned to Severus. "Come, I want to buy you a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, and dinner too, if you haven't had it yet."

Lucius's invitation was even more surprising than his presence. "I--I'm sorry," stammered Severus. "I can't. My mother...." He felt a flush creep into his face.

"Is having tea with Narcissa," Lucius said. He smiled at Severus's look of disbelief. "And as Narcissa has already told your mother we're spending the evening at the Leaky Cauldron, you simply must come with me."

His jaw still slack with astonishment, Severus left the queue. Immediately Lucius took his arm and steered him past the reception desk toward the street entrance.

"Did I hear you right?" Severus asked in a low voice. "Narcissa's with my mother? At our house?"

"And why shouldn't a Malfoy, née Black, drink tea with a Prince?"

"Because--"

"Enough of this, Severus. If it needs talking about, we'll talk about it at the Cauldron."

They passed through the department store facade which disguised St Mungo's from the Muggles, slipped into a nearby alley and Apparated into the tiny courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron. Lucius led Severus into the bar.

"Is my parlour ready, Tom?" Lucius said to the landlord.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy." Tom bowed them into a private dining room with a heavy-beamed ceiling, smoke-blackened walls and a flagged floor. He pointed his wand at the hearth, and a fire sprang up in the grate.

"Have you eaten yet, Severus?" Lucius asked.

Severus hadn't had the time, so Lucius ordered dinner for two and a bottle of wine. As soon as the landlord had left, Severus asked, "Why is Narcissa visiting my mother?"

Lucius laughed. "Blunt as ever? No time for small talk? Well, I can't say that I blame you. Though you don't ask why I'm eating dinner with you."

"You and I have eaten together before," said Severus. "At the Manor, after Olaus Ruskin's death."

"Yes, but that was purely business. All Narcissa wants is to try to make up for the way she and her family have treated your mother all these years."

Tom brought the wine. Lucius poured it out, handed Severus his glass and they both sat down before the fire.

"My mother," Severus said. "Mrs Tobias Snape, of Spinner's End, Huddersfield." He laid emphasis on the plain surname and the mill district address.

"Your mother," Lucius repeated delicately. "Eileen Prince, of the pure-blood Prince family. Tobias Snape doesn't live with her, does he?"

No Malfoy husband ever abandoned his family, of course, and no Malfoy wife ever sent her husband packing. Lucius's carefully neutral tone was in itself a judgement of the conduct of his inferiors.

Severus couldn't bring himself to answer before Lucius said, "Nevertheless, Mrs Snape she remains."

Meaning what? Severus wondered. That she had not descended to the further disgrace of divorce?

"Yes," Lucius continued, seemingly unaware of the emotions roiling under Severus's surface calm. "Narcissa and I have cut Mrs Snape in the past. Narcissa tells me we were very wrong to do so. She feels the wrong most acutely and wishes to remedy it, and, given the fact that Mrs Snape is your mother, I can't help but agree with her."

"You do?" Severus still could not get over his astonishment. "And how do your families feel about it?"

"Oh, well, Cygnus. Narcissa's father, you know. He was something of a tyrant, and he only got worse toward the end. But now that he's gone, Druella has loosened up considerably. Narcissa says she's raised no objection whatsoever."

"And the Malfoys?"

"I have always done as I pleased," said Lucius coolly.

That was true enough, Severus thought.

"But enough about me," Lucius went on. "What about you and your family? Your mother, I mean." Lucius rearranged his face into an expression of concern. "Mother tells me that she and Olaus Ruskin's mother were great friends at school, that Felicity Ruskin was asking after Mrs Snape at Olaus's memorial service."

Excruciating as the memory was, Severus could not forget Mrs Ruskin's red eyes and tentative, almost pleading tone: "How is your mother, Severus? It's been so long...I hope she's well?"

"My mother sent Mrs Ruskin a sympathy letter," Severus replied evasively.

"I understand." Lucius paused, as if searching for the right words. "Mrs Snape is--unwell."

"She hasn't had the full use of her magic for years," Severus said bluntly. "And it's getting worse."

"So very unfortunate," Lucius murmured. "If only something could be done..."

Silence hung between them for a few moments. Severus was grateful to the landlord for breaking it when he brought in their dinner. Severus and Lucius took their wine to the table and tucked in to beef stew and a loaf of fresh, fragrant bread.

After a couple of minutes, Lucius dabbed his lips with a napkin. "Speaking of Ruskin, we've all been rather fortunate. Well, not Ruskin, of course, since he's dead. I mean you, Potter, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement--and me most of all. I pride myself that my hand in hushing up the Azkaban affair isn't obvious at all."

Severus busied himself with his stew and remained silent.

Lucius grinned at him. "Allow me my boast, Severus. You haven't seen it mentioned in the Daily Prophet, have you? Or heard anyone talk about it at St Mungo's?"

No, he hadn't. Even Apothecary Morgan hadn't breathed a word of any of it since the day she had told him to get rid of the Hidden Hellebore.

"Of course the Ministry were quite keen on sweeping it all under the rug," said Lucius. "Well, who can blame them? Fifty Dementors, supposedly under the supervision of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, breaking loose and sucking the soul out of a prisoner before his interrogators, an apprentice Auror and a newly-qualified Apothecary, could get them under control. How does that make the lot of them look, I ask you?"

The last thing Olaus Ruskin had done in this life was scream. Long and loud. Remembering it, Severus drained his wineglass and set it down hard on the table. "We didn't get the Dementors under control," he said.

"No, scattering them to the four winds with a linked Patronus Charm was not exactly the same thing as getting them under control. And, of course, you and Potter rowing was what aroused the Dementors in the first place. But that's the very last part of the business which will ever come out, since it's as much an embarrassment to the people who forced you into the Azkaban project as it is to you." Lucius buttered the last of his bread, popped it into his mouth and washed it down with wine. "So everything's hushed up and everybody's happy."

"I owe you a great deal, Lucius," said Severus.

"Think nothing of it!" Lucius pulled Severus's glass to him, refilled it and slid it back. "I did it all so that you would be safe," he said. "More importantly, I wanted you to feel safe."

"That's very kind of you."

Lucius smiled. "Of course it was. And so you're asking yourself why I really did it."

Severus made no attempt to deny it.

"You're right," said Lucius. "There's something in it for me too. You see, I very much want you to take me up on that suggestion I made to you the last time we talked."

The last time they had talked was in the park at Malfoy Manor, when Lucius had asked him if he wanted to meet Lord Voldemort.

Severus had said yes, for he had wondered at the strange glow in Lucius's eyes when he had displayed his Dark Mark. He had wondered at Olaus Ruskin's closemouthed loyalty to the only wizard he'd ever acknowledged as his master, to the point of the Dementor's Kiss and beyond.

"I agreed to it then," said Severus. "But you never followed up on your invitation."

"Were you all that eager that I should have done?" Lucius said shrewdly.

"I had second thoughts," Severus said. "Why not? I'd seen how the Ministry treats Death Eaters. I'm surprised you're not more frightened."

"I knew you'd never betray me," Lucius said with a certain satisfaction. "And if you had," he added, "I could have seen to it that nobody believed you."

"Because of the Hidden Hellebore," Severus said.

"Yes, because you were caught formulating a forbidden substance, with which you could have committed murder," said Lucius. "And because you have less money and muddier blood than I do. You should never underestimate the importance of that, no matter how the Muggle-lovers rant."

At least Lucius was honest, and why shouldn't he be? He had no need to mince words around Severus. "I'd have no objection to meeting Voldemort, as long as you could guarantee I'd be safe."

"I would really prefer, Severus, that you not speak his name."

The warmth was gone from Lucius's voice. "I'm sorry," Severus said, disconcerted.

"No harm done--as of yet. But you really shouldn't bandy about that name. It has a power you can't possibly understand." An eerie light flickered briefly through Lucius's eyes. "Though you may come to. I've told him about you, you know. I took the liberty--since you did say, at the Manor, that you'd meet him."

"You've told him about me," Severus repeated slowly. He wasn't sure he liked that.

"About your disillusionment with the Ministry. Your circumstances. And your undoubted talents."

Severus couldn't remember Lucius talking up his talents to anyone, or even mentioning that he believed Severus had any talents. He decided against saying so, however.

"My circumstances?" he said instead.

"What you do for a living, who your family are. Only in the vaguest terms of course," Lucius said. "Anyway, he's staying with me in the country, and he'd like to meet you."

Severus was silent for a while. He thought of the ever-present, bone-biting cold of Azkaban, of the constant pall of gloom unnatural even to a prison. He remembered the Defences-Downdraught he had brewed there, and the prisoner whose defences the potion had so effectively pulled down. He still had nightmares about the part he had played in creating the vacant husk which was the last he had seen of Olaus Ruskin. And he couldn't forget who had blackmailed him into playing that part: Thom Reid, the Warden of Azkaban, another minion of the Ministry of Magic.

"I haven't changed my mind," said Severus. "I meant what I said to you after Ruskin died. I would like to meet your Lord--" he stopped himself just before saying "Voldemort." Yet he disdained the childish-sounding "You-Know-Who."

"I would like to meet the Dark Lord," Severus said finally.

"Good. Very good." Lucius couldn't quite hide the triumph in his voice, but Severus was neither surprised nor offended by it. Lucius would add to Voldemort's followers if Severus became his newest recruit, and the one great strength of an opponent to established authority was in numbers. If he succeeded in bringing Severus into the fold, why shouldn't Lucius look forward to a reward?

If Severus came into the fold. "That doesn't mean I'll join him," said Severus. "I want that clear before I'll meet your Dark Lord. I've heard he's had people killed for refusing to join the Death Eaters."

Lucius waved airily. "It's all lies. Don't you think that if Barty Crouch could pin that on any one of us, he'd have clapped him in Azkaban?"

"Yes," said Severus. "Although, just because Crouch hasn't found evidence for it doesn't mean it hasn't been done."

"Oh, come, Severus, now you're talking like one of them!"

"I want your promise, Lucius. If after meeting your Lord, I decide I want nothing more to do with him, I want your promise that none of you will hurt me in any way."

"Of course," said Lucius, smiling benevolently. "A bit of a Memory Charm, so slight you'll never notice. How could that hurt?"

The memory of no more than a few hours would be erased from his mind, Severus thought: for why should it take longer than that to learn what Voldemort had to offer, and to decide whether he wanted to accept it?

"Do I have your promise?" said Severus.

"You have my promise," Lucius answered. "Now, then. When can you come down to the Manor to meet him?"

Severus considered it. He had scattered days off here and there, but if he was to see to Mother and the house before spending those hours at Malfoy Manor... "A weekend day would be best, but it's ten days until my next weekend off."

"Perfect!" said Lucius. "I hope you can spend the entire weekend with us."

"I couldn't leave Mother for that long," said Severus.

"Of course. Though Narcissa, I am sure, would be happy to spend a day with her. A little early Christmas shopping, perhaps."

Severus still could not get used to the idea of Narcissa Malfoy actually wanting to spend time with his mother. "We'll see...Mother and I wouldn't want to impose..."

"Don't be ridiculous!" said Lucius. "Narcissa would be delighted!" He went on in that vein of effusive reassurance, until Severus was quite convinced it was all part of a programme to persuade him to join Voldemort. Which made him ask himself, what was it Voldemort thought Severus had to offer him?

"They say he's the greatest Dark wizard since Grindelwald," said Severus. "Is it true?"

Lucius stopped effervescing. An uncharacteristically fanatical gleam entered his eyes.

"Oh, yes. He's more than Grindelwald ever was," he said. "It's another reason I thought you might be interested. I remember you at Hogwarts. You had a bent for the Dark Arts from the very first. The Dark Lord could teach you so much, Severus, that I'm sure you have the aptitude to learn. Why, look at all I've learned from him, and I wasn't half the scholar you were." Lucius gave a short burst of laughter. "Bad form, don't you know, for a Malfoy to be too much of an intellectual."

Severus had nothing to say to that, and he turned down Lucius's subsequent offer of dessert.

His taciturnity did nothing to dim Lucius's good cheer. "Saturday, ten days from now. I'll owl you with Floo directions. You could Floo straight from work, if you wanted. Father got the Manor a direct connection to St. Mungo's; he said if they wanted him to be a Trustee, they'd better damned well make it convenient for him to attend those dull Board meetings."

Severus didn't want to leave straight from work, and be gone for who knew how long before having a chance to check on Mother. "No, I'll come from home on Saturday afternoon, if that's all right with you."

"Certainly, certainly...." Lucius stood, a signal that dinner and their meeting was at an end. He'd got what he wanted from Severus, and did not try to push their camaraderie beyond the satisfaction of his desire. "Till the twenty-seventh, then."

Severus also had no wish to dawdle. He was very curious to find out how Mother had reacted to Narcissa Malfoy's descent upon Linden Lane.

****

Severus returned home to find his mother dusting the sitting-room furniture.

Magically dusting the sitting-room furniture.

She hadn't heard him come in, apparently, for she had her back turned to him as he stood in the doorway that led from the hall to the sitting room. As Severus watched, dumbfounded, she waved her wand (which he hadn't seen her use since they'd moved to Linden Lane), and the duster leapt from the mantel to the bookcase.

"Mother!" said Severus.

She whirled around. The duster slid across the top of the bookcase and fell to the floor.

But Mother didn't notice. "Severus!" She came to Severus, hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. After releasing him, she gazed up at him, smiling. "You'll never believe the day I've had; you'll never believe who came to see me!"

"Narcissa Malfoy," said Severus. His eyes moved from Mother's glowing face to the wand she held in her hand.

"Yes, how did you guess--oh, of course, you had dinner with Lucius!"

"The dusting, Mother." In his astonishment, Severus could hardly complete a sentence. "The dusting...you're using your wand."

"Oh--oh, yes." Mother looked down at her wand, seeming somewhat surprised to see herself holding it. She turned toward the bookcase and laughed a bit nervously when she saw the feather duster on the floor. "Not very well, I'm afraid."

Severus pointed his wand at the duster and sent it into a nearby closet.

"Yes, Lucius and I dined together," he said. "It went rather well, I thought. He's invited me to the Manor on the afternoon of the twenty-seventh. That's my next Saturday off."

"Isn't that amazing, Severus! I'm invited too, for next Tuesday!" The words tumbled from Mother's lips. "Narcissa came here, can you believe it! After I got over my surprise, I invited her in to tea. That's when she asked me to dinner, on her mother's behalf, really. Druella's been quite lonely since Cygnus died, so Narcissa often has her to stay at the Manor. She tries to have company in, to keep Druella's mind off things, and she says Druella told her we were friends at school. I don't remember being that close to Druella myself, but I'm not averse to giving her a little companionship. She's been through so much these past few months, the poor thing."

Severus looked at his mother in unconcealed surprise. Could Lucius have put Narcissa up to this? He found it hard to believe. He remembered Narcissa from school. In those days, she hadn't been one even Lucius Malfoy would have found easy to manipulate.

Was he wrong to think that this influx of Malfoys and Blacks was part of Lucius's plan to recruit him to Voldemort's side? Why should he be worth that much effort?

"Cygnus Black has been dead for five months," said Severus. "If Druella has been so lonely, why did Narcissa wait until now to offer you her invitation?"

A thoughtful, almost shrewd gleam entered Mother's eyes, the sort of look Severus couldn't say he'd seen there for years. Before answering him, Mother went to the sofa and slowly sat down. Severus sat down too, in the chair opposite her.

"According to Narcissa, Druella isn't the only reason she visited me," Mother said. "She said that she, Druella and Lucius felt guilty for years about cutting us, but Cygnus insisted. I don't know why they should have felt guilty about it, though. I'm married to a Muggle, after all."

Mother said it without the slightest bitterness in her voice. You were to lie without complaint in the bed you had made for yourself: that was a large part of the code which ruled the lives of pure-bloods like the Princes, the Malfoys and the Blacks.

"Perhaps it has something to do with you?" asked Mother.

"If it does, I don't know it yet," Severus said, with only slight dishonesty. He had no real idea how and why Lucius had persuaded Voldemort to meet him.

"I told Narcissa that, since I'd married a Muggle, I wasn't surprised her family refused to see me," Mother said. "Then she turned around and asked me if Tobias was harassing me."

"She did?" said Severus.

"She knew we were separated, and that I was living with you here in London," said Mother.

Severus wasn't surprised. The pure-bloods kept track of their own, even the disgraced ones: perhaps especially the disgraced ones, in order to see to it they didn't cause further trouble to their families. It was better than killing them, Severus supposed, which was what the Princes might have done to Mother a couple of centuries ago.

"And she said her Aunt Walburga told her she'd seen Tobias coming out of a boarding house in Grimmauld Place."

Now Severus was surprised. "What? The bast--Tobias is living in Grimmauld Place?"

"Yes," said Mother. She looked rather pale. "Narcissa has offered...she said her family could take care of him if I liked."

Take care of him. Severus looked at his mother without speaking. If only it could be that easy, to leave Tobias to two powerful, pure-blood families, well-stocked with Dark wizards....

Mother looked at him directly, and, though Severus had never known her to be a Legilimens, he felt almost as though she were reading his mind.

"No, Severus," she said calmly. "Tobias is my husband. He's mine."

Severus bowed his head slightly. For now, that was good enough for him. If Tobias was still stalking Mother (and Severus doubted Lindsay's Memory Charm would be enough to make him give up looking for her), he'd soon discover that she had made some new friends.

As far as Severus was concerned, his mother's welfare was reason enough to encourage Lucius's newfound interest in him. He had to take help wherever he could get it.

It was flattering, though, to feel pursued as he did, on behalf of a wizard whose reputation for Dark power surpassed that of any other in this century. There had to be something to this Voldemort, Severus thought. Otherwise, Lucius would not follow him, Ruskin would not have gone to Azkaban for him. Could he be like the Dark wizards of legend, able to offer Severus the power to order the world as he wanted it?

Severus bade his mother good night and went to bed, telling himself that, honestly, he wasn't puffed-up enough to want to rule wizard-kind, control nature or seek eternal life. He wanted nothing more than the security and freedom to take on the world, as the likes of Lucius Malfoy and James Potter did. That wasn't so much to ask for, was it?