APOE, Chapter 5
I've only just realized that I updated APoE everywhere but here. How very silly of me. Things are going well in ficworld. I've got lots of ideas, so much that I've been swamped. I'm almost ready to update "Displaced" (which isn't on this LJ yet) and am starting a shorty for a challenge...
Anyhow, here's the latest chapter.
Another Plane of Existence
Rated: R (Language and sexual references)
Characters: All my lovely Slytherin boys who turn Death Eaters, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the occasional Marauder, and Lily Evans
Previous disclaimers apply
Another Plane of Existence
Chapter Five
No Socialite
“You look like a vicar.”
Severus, who’d been adjusting the high collar of his robes, paused and glanced at his father reproachfully. “Excuse me?”
“You look,” Tobias slowly enunciated, “like a vicar.”
Severus bowed his head to get a better look at his robes, feeling quite insulted. Shopping wasn’t something he spent a lot of time doing or thinking about, and it had actually taken him a long time to pick out dress robes that suited his tastes. This particular set had been lightly used, but the material was good and the design simple. No frills for Severus. He was merely satisfied that they fit properly.
Of course his muggle father would associate him with a vicar simply because the robes were black and had a high collar.
Tobias leaned back into his seat and folded his arms across his chest, looking wildly amused at his ingenious insults. “Where are the tarts?” he added, each word holding just enough weight so that it clearly implied that he was set on provoking his son.
“At the tavern where you left them, I imagine,” responded Severus dryly.
Surprisingly, Tobias laughed at this. He’d been away drinking the better part of the afternoon and returned within the past hour. Eileen was still at work for Mr. Montford, covering for Severus. Oddly enough, Tobias was more cheerful than usual, and Severus wondered if it was because he would have the house to himself.
“At't tavern where I left them,” Tobias echoed in amusement, his accent thick because of the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. “Cheeky.” He shook his head, his dark eyes coolly surveying Severus’s wardrobe. “Yer mother wasn’t donning clobber like that when I first saw ‘er.”
Severus tugged at a loose thread from one of the buttons on his sleeve cuffs. “That’s not surprising,” he replied shortly.
“She was bonny enough to thoil, mind thee.”
“Right.”
“Little did I know that me own son‘d be traipsin’ about in dressin’ gowns wun day,” continued Tobias. His voice had a sharper edge to it then before, and it wasn’t difficult to see that things were quickly beginning to fall apart.
Severus didn’t respond and instead double-checked his robes to make sure everything was in place.
“These…people…yer goin’ to visit, are they like yer mum’s family?”
“Yes.”
Eileen’s family, the Princes, were pureblooded witches and wizards. They weren’t extremely wealthy like the Blacks or Malfoys, but there had been a number of bright, notable witches and wizards in their lineage, and the Prince surname had been respected. That is, until their youngest and only daughter Eileen became involved with a poor muggle boy. Correspondence between the remaining family quickly became icy and forced, and eventually it dissipated into nothing at all. Severus rarely heard anything about his grandparents anymore.
“Watch thissen, then,” Tobias declared. He lifted an eyebrow and lowered his voice sinisterly. “Stay away from their daughters. Lasses are sly enough, but yer mother’s kind,” Tobias’s upper lip curled, “’er kind are the worst.”
Severus met his father’s gaze, but he honestly could not think of a suitable response. He was only glad that his mother wasn’t around to hear what his father was saying; her family and marriage was a sensitive topic. Still, Tobias’s advice wasn’t exactly stemming from nowhere; Eileen hadn’t told Tobias that she was a witch when they first met. In fact, she’d waited until Severus was born and had shown the first signs of possessing magic before confessing the truth to him.
“Bloody wicked witches,” Tobias muttered under his breath.
Severus took that as his cue to leave. He hadn’t bothered to pack an overnight bag, and the only thing he had with him was his wand. Though practicing magic over the summer holidays was forbidden, his wand offered protection and security. He didn’t want to leave it behind, especially when attending a wizard party.
“I’m leaving,” he announced abruptly. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
Tobias eyed Severus sharply for a moment before replying, “Remember what I said.”
“No worries,” Severus said as he paused by the door. “It’s hard to forget something like that.”
“Right, then.” Tobias tilted his head to the side and shrugged a shoulder before reaching for the bottle on the table before him. “Scarper off already.”
Severus whisked out the back door towards the old brick privy. Robes bellowing out behind him, he marched past the small building and ducked through an opening in the fence that separated the yard from the narrow alley behind it. Normally Severus wouldn’t dare have the Knight Bus pick him up behind his home-the bus was much too loud and there was too great a chance of being spotted--however, he didn’t really have another choice. Bringing muggle clothes along was risky and he had no desire to walk through Spinners End dressed in his vicar robes.
It was already past seven o’clock, and he was running behind schedule. Much to his dismay, his mother had refused his request to make a portkey and he was too young to apparate legally. He still had to make it to the Leaky Cauldron and floo to Abbey View. He hoped he wouldn’t be dreadfully late.
After a quick surveillance of his surroundings, he raised his arm to hail the gigantic bus. It was a matter of seconds before he felt a great whoosh of air next to him and heard the sound of screeching brakes. Yvonne’s flushed face greeted him as the great purple doors swung open. “’Lo, Mr. Snape,” she said with a yawn.
“Yvonne,” he murmured, stepping onto the bus. He acknowledged the bus driver with a slight nod and took his usual seat near the front of the bus.
Yvonne sat down in the pilot’s seat and stared at him in such a queer manner that he began to feel very uncomfortable. After staring at him for at least thirty uninterrupted seconds, she rubbed her eyes and peered at him again. “You look different,” she said, smiling peculiarly. “Nice.”
Severus’s mouth quirked in embarrassment. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, rubbing the mole on the side of her face. “Where are you off to tonight?”
“The Leaky Cauldron, please.”
“Right,” she answered. “Hold on, then.” As soon as she the words left her mouth, the bus jarred forward and Severus nearly slid off of the seat and onto the floor. The grumbling protests of the other passengers on the bus echoed his sentiments perfectly. He was suddenly very glad that he hadn’t eaten anything before hailing the bus.
“Next stop is the Leaky Cauldron!” Yvonne harped.
The bus roared away from its previous stop, which was Little Hangleton, and swerved and veered as it travelled to the Leaky Cauldron. Once again, all of the passengers were thrown forward as the bus pulled up to the curb. Severus’s right arm shot out and grabbed one of the metal poles on the bus to keep from flying headfirst into the windshield. Muttering a few choice curse words under his breath, he smoothed out his robes self-consciously stood up to disembark.
“Have a good’un, Mr. Snape,” Yvonne called out.
“Let’s hope so,” he replied, though his comment was more for himself than for her. Though the better part of the summer had passed without incident, the fact that Evans was aware of his true lineage remained to be a huge weight on his shoulders. The invitation to Bellatrix’s engagement party was a small relief, but Severus remained vigilant. It could very well be a trap, for all he knew. He pictured himself being all but exiled from Slytherin by all of his housemates.
Frowning, he approached the Leaky Cauldron and ducked through the door.
The tavern was relatively empty, save a few old wizards who lifted their bushy eyebrows at Severus as he approached the bar. He reached into his inside pockets and pulled out a couple sickles, passing them between his fingers apprehensively.
Tom, the old bartender, walked over and greeted Severus with a toothless grin. “Well, hello there. What can I do for you this evening?”
“I’d like to purchase some floo powder,” answered Severus. “Enough for two round trips please.” He pushed the coins across the counter towards Tom.
“Of course, of course.” Tom nodded enthusiastically and ducked beneath the bar. Severus could hear him rustling around, and a moment later his bald head emerged and he thrust a small sack of floo powder into Severus’s hands. “There you are.”
“Thank you,” Severus replied. He picked up the small sack and turned it around in his hands, inspecting it.
“It’s nothing,” Tom replied, dismissing Severus with a hand. “The fireplace is over there,” he added, nodding towards the opposite side of the room. Severus turned in the direction he was pointed, noting the crackling fire and the shadows dancing on the walls.
“Just make sure you speak up,” Tom added genially. “I’m not responsible if you land on someone’s great aunt.”
Severus barely managed a smile. He had no intentions of landing on anyone’s great aunt. “I’ll do my best.” Untying his sack of powder, he approached the fireplace and poured a handful of dust into the palm of his hand. Not wanting to waste any more time, he tossed it into the fire. The flames blazed green in front of him.
“Abbey View!” he said smoothly, carefully enunciating every consonant and vowel. He stepped into the fire, and for a moment found himself swirling through a vortex of absolutely nothing. The next thing he knew, he was stumbling through a giant marble fireplace. Coughing up ash into his hand, he straightened up and stepped onto the Turkish rug in front of the hearth.
“Snape!” an excited voice called from his left. “You made it!”
Snape recognized the voice immediately; it was Regulus. The younger boy quickly approached the fireplace, smiling broadly. His dark hair was combed away from his face, leaving his delicate features clearly visible. He was dressed in heavy, black dress robes lined in green and accented with serpent clasps. They were very posh.
“I did,” Severus said. Disentangling his hair with his fingers, he hoped that he didn’t look like a sooty wreck. That wasn’t quite the impression he was intent on making.
“You’re clean,” Regulus said casually. He pointed to a large mirror hanging on the wall. “You can check if don’t believe me.”
“Thanks,” Severus murmured, allowing himself a fleeting glance at his reflection, “but I’m fine.” The last thing he wanted to do was fawn over himself in front of a Black.
Regulus nodded. “The Blacks always make sure they are presentable. Impressions are important.” He made a mock bow and gestured to his dress robes.
“Very Slytherin,” Snape mused.
“To the core,” Regulus agreed. “My mother and father wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“And your brother?”
Regulus’s eyes flickered up at Severus suspiciously. “Sirius?” he said in a tight voice. “You mean that you haven’t heard?”
Severus frowned. “No. Heard what?”
The corners of Regulus’s mouth pulled taut. “He’s gone. He and my parents were having quite a row one night and he decided he’d had enough. Ran off.”
It was surprising news. Severus knew that Sirius was a hardheaded idiot, but he never really expected him to abandon the Black family. It was difficult to understand, seeing as that being a Black gave way to all sorts of opportunities that Severus would never have. Sirius had everything handed to him on a silver platter and had the gall to turn his nose away, the bloody fool. Severus would give an arm and a leg to have half of the opportunities that Sirius did.
“I see,” Severus said finally. Sirius was a blood traitor and showed little promise of reform. He thought Black family was better off without him, frankly. Regulus certainly was, anyhow. “I’m sure you’ll come to realize it’s no great loss.” He wondered how the news was being handled throughout the other pureblooded families, who loved scandals.
Regulus narrowed his eyes. “If you say so. All I know is that things have been hell lately. Mum is screaming about abominations and abandonment, Dad is stewing about like a gobstone ready to explode, and I haven’t heard a word from Sirius since. Selfish bastard.”
“Where did he go?”
“To Potter,” Regulus said bitterly. “Who else?”
Severus made a face. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be.” Regulus dropped his gaze to the floor and sighed. “Anyhow, this party’s been a distraction of sorts, excluding the fact that my mum and my Uncle Alphard aren’t speaking.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s a long story involving Sirius,” Regulus answered shortly. He glanced up and gestured down the hall. “Look, why don’t we go see what everyone else is up to, eh?” He was clearly trying to change the subject, and Severus didn’t feel the need to press the issue. If Regulus wanted to talk, he’d talk.
Together they walked out of the entrance hall and down a hallway decorated with dozens of moving photographs and portraits. Music, voices, and laughter echoed throughout the corridors.
“There are quite a few people here already,” Regulus pointed out uselessly.
Snape nodded.
“Bellatrix and Rodolphus are greeting guests in the parlour, which is where most of the adults are congregating.” He turned a corner and gestured for Snape to follow him, walking down another corridor. “I’m supposed to keep an eye out for incoming guests,” he continued, turning to Severus with a wary smile and shaking his head slowly. “The greeter.”
He directed Severus to a door down the dimly lit hall. “Let’s go in here. Rabastan was trying to nick some of the liquor from my uncle’s bar last time I saw him.”
“Now there’s a surprise,” Snape said, rolling his eyes skyward. Of course it wouldn’t take Rabastan long to get himself pissed. It was a party, after all.
Much to their amusement, Rabastan heard their entrance only a moment too late and nearly dropped a bottle of firewhiskey whilst feebly attempting to hide it. “Damn it,” he murmured, breathing heavily, “you blokes scared the shit out of me.”
Regulus chuckled and Severus couldn’t help but snort. “Not happy to see me?” he greeted.
“Not at the expense of some booze,” Rabastan grumbled, but he was smiling. “How’s your holiday been, Snape?”
“Uneventful,” Snape replied, “but I’m not complaining.”
“No run-ins with any mudbloods?”
Severus twitched. “What?”
Rabastan grinned wickedly. “I’m taking the mickey out of you, Snape.” He shrugged. “You do remember the last month of this past school year, don’t you?”
Severus slowly breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, that.” He snorted in disgust. “Thankfully, my summer has been redhead-free.”
Regulus snickered.
“You bought some new robes, I see,” Rabastan said with a smirk. He thumbed his own robes, which were chocolate brown and tailored to fit his tall frame.
“When the occasion arises,” Snape replied, shrugging off the subtle gibe. He was actually happy to see his fellow Slytherins again. It was almost worrisome to realize that he’d actually missed their company. The fact that they had no idea about his encounter with Evans at the train station comforted him a great deal, however, and he loosened up substantially.
“Occasions,” Rabastan said with a chuckle, “that undoubtedly call for something to drink.” He unscrewed the cap of the firewhiskey bottle and tilted it up to his lips. After several large gulps, he pulled it away and made a face. “It always burns at first,” he said unnecessarily, and passed it to Regulus. “Have a go at it, Regulus.”
Regulus grinned wickedly and raised the bottle. “To occasions,” he said, and nodded at both Severus and Rabastan. “Like welcoming new members into the family.”
The smile on Rabastan’s face faded and he grunted and mumbled something under his breath.
“Get used to it,” Snape advised him.
Regulus wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and held the bottle out to Severus. “Your turn,” he said.
Severus quickly grabbed it from him. He had a fleeting image of his father sitting at the kitchen table, but dismissed it almost immediately. He was not his father. He was not a muggle drunkard.
He raised the bottle into the air and lowered his voice. A sudden inspiration hit him, and he decided to make another toast.
“To the Dark Lord,” he murmured. After all, that was the real reason that everyone was so interested in attending the engagement party.
Regulus eyes widened and Rabastan hissed in a breath of air at Snape’s dedication. Snape passed the bottle to his left.
“To the Dark Lord,” Rabastan murmured. He took a drink and passed the bottle on.
Someone cleared their throat from the hallway, and Regulus, who’d been mid-gulp, yelped and sloshed whiskey down the front of his robes. “Bugger,” he grumbled, wiping away the droplets self-consciously.
“Rosier,” Rabastan said lazily, eyeing the unexpected guest. “Late as always. Is Florence around somewhere?”
“Very funny,” Evan replied testily, entering the room. He plopped down onto an armchair and surveyed the others. “Well, you tossers,” he said after a moment, “are you going to pass me the bottle or not?”
“Only if you drink to Bellatrix and the Dark Lord,” Regulus replied, eyes shining.
“Together?”
Snape snickered quietly. “You are a twit, Rosier,” he said. “That could be considered blasphemous, you realize.”
“Why?” Rosier protested. “The Dark Lord has eyes, and Bellatrix has…many other things.” He gave the boys a lopsided grin and lifted his eyebrows suggestively.
“She’s marrying my brother, you arse,” Rabastan growled.
“Then perhaps you could get me a picture-“ Rosier started, but he never got to finish, because Rabastan stepped forward and put him in a headlock.
“OY!”
“Stop being so bloody stupid-“
“-Was joking, ouch! You’re messing up my hair!”
“Right, pretty boy-OW!”
“Ha!” Rosier stood up triumphantly and gave Rabastan a white-toothed grin.
Rabastan grimaced and rubbed his side. “You used a stinging hex!” he said accusingly.
Rosier shrugged and pulled his wand out of his royal blue dress robes. “There is so much magic going on here tonight that the Ministry won’t know the difference one way or the other.”
“True enough,” Regulus agreed. “We’ve gotten away with it before. Mind you, my parents aren’t exactly strict in their monitoring, as long as we’re not breaking anything…”
Severus sighed internally. There was no way that he would be able to get away with magic at Spinner’s End. His mother hardly used it anymore, and the Ministry would certainly be able to trace it back to him. Even so, he was glad that his wand was tucked safely away inside his sleeve pocket.
“Aw, I won’t break anything,” Rosier said with a wink. He flicked his wand to a cabinet in the corner and summoned four glasses, which hurtled towards the boys at an alarming speed.
Severus backed out of the way as one nearly crashed into his head, and Regulus managed to catch one as it flew past him. His eyes shifted nervously and he shot Rosier a murderous look. “Those are my aunt’s good glasses!”
Rosier caught the glass that had nearly collided with Snape in his left hand and managed to catch another with his right. Unfortunately, one more glass went right over his shoulder and smashed into the wall, shattering and littering the floor with shiny delicate pieces of crystal.
“Er,” he said, staring at the pieces, “don’t worry.” He set the two glasses on the table and flicked his wand towards the shattered pieces. “Reparo!”
In an instant, the pieces reformed themselves into the glass. Rosier bent down to inspect it and nodded. “If there is one spell I’m decent at,” he said slowly, “it’s ‘reparo’.”
Severus shook his head. “You’re going to need it for your head someday, Rosier. You’re senseless.”
Rabastan snorted as he poured firewhiskey into the two glasses on the table and prodded Regulus to hand over his glass as well. “Come on, Black. It’s a party. Loosen up, will you?”
Regulus smiled weakly. “Sure,” he said, “all right.”
Rosier clapped him on the back. “Brilliant,” he said cheerfully, waiting for his glass to be filled. “Are we sure no one will find us back here?”
“My family is too busy to bother,” Regulus replied. “Bellatrix and her parents are busy receiving guests, and I expect my mother and father are entertaining as well.” He picked up his glass, which was now half full of firewhiskey. “Narcissa and Andromeda are probably around there too, mooning over wedding dresses and Lucius Malfoy, if he’s arrived.”
“I do not moon, Regulus Black,” a delicate voice snapped.
All of the Slytherin boys turned to the doorway, where a cross looking Narcissa was standing, flanked by Merrick Avery and Fulton Wilkes, two Slytherin boys who were going into their seventh year at Hogwarts.
The corners of Regulus’s mouth twitched mischievously. “Hello, Narcissa,” he said smoothly. “Avery,” he greeted the boys, “Wilkes.”
Wilkes looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh, while Avery gazed at the boys suspiciously.
“Do not hello Narcissa me,” Narcissa said sharply. “Pretending as though I didn’t hear what you said.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at her cousin.
Regulus grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“You should be,” she scolded him. “It’s your job to greet the guests, and poor Fulton and Merrick were stuck chatting with mad old Auntie Dora for the past twenty minutes.”
Severus wasn’t sure who Auntie Dora was, but by the look on Regulus’s face he gathered that she was someone one wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time with.
“My apologies,” Regulus said earnestly, wrinkling his nose. “I’m terribly sorry.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” spoke up Wilkes, glancing at Narcissa. “Really, I was all right until she started imitating the sounds a houself makes when decapitated.”
Regulus groaned. “She must be drinking,” he said. His cheeks were flushed, either from embarrassment or the consumption of firewhiskey, though Severus was inclined to think it was the former.
“Something stiff, by the smell of her,” Avery spoke up gruffly.
The entire room was quiet as everyone soaked up what he said, and then they all began to laugh. Allowing himself a rare smile, Severus made the mental note to stay away from Auntie Dora.
“You look lovely, Narcissa,” an unabashed Rosier piped up from the back of the room.
Rabastan nodded in agreement and even Severus had to admit that she looked very pretty. Her long blond hair was tied into a knot at the nape of her long neck, and she was dressed in pale blue robes that shimmered in the light.
Narcissa softened only slightly. “Thank you, Evan.” Her blue eyes skimmed over every boy in the room, silently evaluating each of them. “You boys look very nice yourselves,” she said finally, walking into the room. Moving in between Regulus and Severus, she picked up one of the glasses and arched an eyebrow.
“Drinking?” she asked gently.
“I-“ Regulus stuttered, looking around helplessly, “that is, we-“
“Don’t bother.” Narcissa shook her head and lifted the glass of firewhiskey to her lips. Severus blinked at her in surprise. The other Slytherins were reacting similarly; Regulus’s mouth was hanging open and Rabastan was gazing at her with a look of complete and total adoration. Rosier and Wilkes were snickering quietly and Avery was already helping himself to a glass of firewhiskey.
“Ugh,” said Narcissa, pulling a face, “it’s vile.” She set the glass back down on the table. “If I were you I would have chosen a bottle of wine, or at least a bottle of brandy.”
“Brandy is for pansies,” Rabastan replied bluntly. He then proceeded to down the rest of his glass of firewhiskey in a show of manly pomposity.
“And?” Narcissa asked.
Rabastan furrowed his brows. “And what?”
A small smile twitched at the corners of Narcissa’s lips. “And nothing, Rabastan,” she said. “Never mind.”
The look of bewilderment on the young Lestrange brother’s face passed as quickly as it had appeared, and he turned his attention back to the firewhiskey bottle, which was three-quarters of the way gone.
Severus glanced sideways at Narcissa. “It’s no use using subtle allusions on Lestrange when he’s drinking,” he said pointedly. “You may as well call him a pansy directly to his face and get on with it.”
She smiled at him. “But where’s the fun in that?”
Severus looked past her at Rabastan, who was now challenging Wilkes and Avery to a drinking contest. “It all depends on whether or not you find dodging hexes fun,” he replied.
Narcissa’s eyes twinkled. “Not in my evening clothes,” she responded. She turned her pale face up to Snape and gave him a small smile. “You’re clever, you know.”
Snape stared at her in bemusement. Was he supposed to answer that somehow? He wasn’t sure, and he could feel the inner clockwork inside of his mind grinding to halt; the seconds it was taking him to respond were turning into minutes and then hours. Severus felt anything but clever.
Thankfully, the silence was broken by Regulus, who shoved a drink into Severus’s hand.
“Quick, finish this up. We’re all going to have to go face the rest of the party in a moment,” Regulus muttered. “They’ll be wondering where we’ve all gone.”
Narcissa nodded. “I was just about to leave.” She bowed her head gracefully, lowering her eyes to the floor. “I’ll see you around, gentlemen.”
A chorus of goodbyes followed her as she exited the room. Severus watched her blonde head disappear as she turned a corner in the hall. He wasn’t the only one.
“Well,” said Wilkes, “let’s finish off the evidence, eh?” He took one last swig from the bottle and passed it to his right.
Each boy took a swig, and Avery placed himself at the end, consuming the last of the contents. “Right,” he said smacking his lips, “let’s get out there.” He turned to the younger boys and glared at them harshly. “And if any of you act like wankers tonight, I will personally see to it that you are introduced to Auntie Dora.”
* * *
As the party progressed, Severus could sense the tension and excitement building. Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked especially pleased, and exchanged several significant looks with other members of Slytherin house. Even the adults and parents in the room seemed anxious to meet the special guest.
Severus placed himself in a far corner of the room for most of the party. He rather liked it; it allowed him to survey the room and its occupants unobtrusively. He had, of course, congratulated Bellatrix and Rodolphus on their engagement, but shortly after he decided that he’d keep a low profile and lurk in the shadows, away from most of the group. Bella had been standing like a proud figurehead most of the night, her dark hair falling in gentle waves around her shoulders. Once or twice she and Severus’s eyes met and she’d give him a knowing smile. Important guest or no, it was her night to shine, and shine she did. Rumour had it that the Dark Lord had been quite taken with Bella and offered her a chance to study with him.
Thus far he’d spent most of the night talking with his housemates, so he was fairly surprised to see a young man with a pointed face and silvery blonde hair approach him.
“Severus Snape?”
Severus nodded. There was no mistaking who the man was. Severus had watched him chat up various people throughout the night. “You must be Lucius Malfoy.”
“I am.” Lucius nodded, his grey eyes surveying Snape shrewdly. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers. I’m pleased to finally meet you.”
Severus regarded Lucius carefully, taking in his words. Something inside of him inflated proudly upon hearing Lucius’s words of recognition. Perhaps he was finally making a name for himself.
“Your name isn’t unfamiliar in Slytherin house, either,” he answered politely.
“I should hope not,” Lucius replied, arching an eyebrow. “It would be disconcerting to hear that all of my delegating has had no effect whatsoever.”
“Delegating?”
Lucius laughed lightly. “Yes, Severus, delegating. Am I right in assuming that you’re not here to celebrate an engagement? Forgive me for being blunt, but you don’t strike me as a socialite.”
Severus narrowed his eyes, keen on where Lucius was heading with the conversation. He had not openly voiced his opinions about the Dark Lord besides making the toast earlier, and guarded his position very carefully. If he was going to take a risk, he deemed it necessary to make sure that his well-being was taken care of. Having no experience with Lucius, the noble pureblooded families, or the Dark Lord himself, Severus was treading very lightly.
“No, I’m no socialite, as you say.”
Lucius smiled. “I thought not. Bellatrix has mentioned that you’re something of a loner, though she assures me that you’re quite a talent when it comes to the Dark Arts, which is saying something, coming from her.” His grey eyes glinted.
Severus nodded slowly. “They interest me, yes.”
“A reputable hobby in some circles, I think,” Lucius agreed smoothly. “Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Yorkshire.”
“Really?” The pitch of Lucius’s voice rose as his curiosity piqued. “Hm. You don’t really sound like a tyke.”
Severus shifted his weight uneasily, wondering how much longer Lucius was going to play twenty questions. He noticed that Bellatrix had disappeared and the other guests were slowly filtering out of the room, though he wasn’t sure if this was because they were going home or if they were moving to another area of the house. He spotted Regulus chatting with Rosier, and Wilkes and Rabastan speaking with his brother. Had they been accosted by Lucius too?
Turning back to Malfoy, he realized he must have missed something Lucius had said, as the Slytherin alum was smiling at him queerly.
“Severus?”
Severus managed to smile apologetically. “Yes?”
“Your surname-Snape--is English, isn’t it?”
Clenching his teeth, Severus nodded. “Correct.” The direction of the conversation was not promising.
“Interesting.”
“Is it?”
“It’s not a name you hear very often.”
“I hope to rectify that someday,” Severus answered levelly.
“Such ambition,” Lucius mused, arching an eyebrow. “I respect that, having similar desires myself.” He smiled and gestured around the room. “Of course, most Slytherins do.”
Severus sighed a breath of relief internally, thankful that he’d managed to steer the topic of conversation away from his bloodlines.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Narcissa appeared at Severus’s side, smiling prettily at Lucius. “I apologize for interrupting your conversation, but Bellatrix sent me to tell you that our special guest of honour has arrived and is meeting people in the dining room.”
Lucius, who’d first looked annoyed at being interrupted, softened and bowed his head. “Thank you, Narcissa.” A look of approval glittered in his eyes as he observed the younger girl. “I’ll leave for the dining room straightaway.” He turned to Snape. “I hope to continue this conversation in the future, Severus. I’ll speak with you later, I’m sure.” After bowing his head once more, he turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving Narcissa and Severus by themselves.
She glanced over at him and shook her head. A loose lock of hair fell across her forehead. “You never cease to amaze me, Snape.”
He wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean by that?”
“Your reputation,” she answered simply. “Lucius Malfoy sought you out, and that’s not a common occurrence.”
“I’m sure he was just making rounds,” Severus said flatly. “He probably talked with most of the guests tonight.”
Narcissa shook her head again. “No,” she said, “he didn’t.” She pursed her lips for a moment, looking disappointed.
Severus assumed by her pout that she was one of the people whom Lucius ignored. Malfoy was quite a bit older than her so it didn’t strike Severus as odd that the two didn’t speak. Surely she wasn’t considering him as a romantic interest? It was an odd notion and it perplexed him. Since she obviously didn’t know Lucius as much more than an acquaintance, it didn’t make sense for her to be enamoured with him. It was probably a silly schoolgirl crush.
“Let’s go,” she said finally, brushing back her hair and gesturing towards the doorway. “We don’t want to be late.”
* * *
The dining room was full of people both young and old. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had taken seats near the front of the room where the Dark Lord was standing. Bellatrix was sitting regally, chin lifted and shoulders back, eyes fixed on the Dark Lord as if there were no other people in the room. Rodolphus put his arm around her possessively.
The wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort was like no one Severus had ever seen before. He was a tall, thin man, with a bone-pale complexion and emaciated features. Though he was dressed in fine robes and moved about gracefully, it was quite clear that a few members of the engagement party found him repulsive. Narcissa could barely lift her eyes past the level of the Dark Lord’s spidery hands.
Severus was in awe of him. Not only was he struck by the fact that the Dark Lord barely resembled a human form anymore, but he was compelled by the man’s finesse. In a matter of minutes, the entire room was hanging on Lord Voldemort’s every word, impressed by his knowledge and resourcefulness.
In the back of the room, Severus listened attentively as the Dark Lord continued his speech.
“You see, my friends, I understand your remonstrations of our current predicament. I too find it disconcerting that the Ministry is doing nothing to stop Muggle encroachment. Do they not understand that by facilitating Muggle needs they are repressing the needs of their own kind? Don’t you think it’s unfair that they are wasting funds and time on Muggles, who have no appreciation or concern for our own well-being? Most Muggles are completely ignorant of our existence! They are completely unaware of our nobility and talent, of the magic that flows through the veins of each and every one of you standing here tonight.” He paused for effectiveness, his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes skimming over his captivated audience.
“I believe we have been too tolerant. As Muggle favouritism continues, pureblood families like yours will be corrupted and possibly forced into extinction. I hope that I am not being audacious when I say that I doubt any of you like this subjugation.”
“You’re not, my lord,” Bellatrix whispered in the front of the room.
The Dark Lord nodded, his lips forming a twisted smile. “I thought not, Bellatrix. This is why I have made it my personal goal to fight for the wizarding race. There is no reason that we should sit idly while the ministry continues to overlook our needs. I am not too modest to assure you that I am a very powerful wizard. I can make it so that your bloodlines are not being contaminated by common blood. I can give you back your living space so that you will not have to hide your craft from petty fools.”
All around Severus, people were nodding and murmuring enthusiastically.
“If you are interested,” the Dark Lord continued, “do not hesitate to approach me. Together we can restore our world to the way it should be. We will fight against those who oppose us, we will break down the barriers that confine us, and we will win. Lord Voldemort is not a wizard who gives up easily. I do not plan on giving up at all. We will have power once again.”
The room erupted into applause, and Severus clapped soundly along with them. Though he never considered himself impressionable, the Dark Lord’s charisma was hard to ignore. Everyone in the room could relate to something in his speech.
Thoughts of his father filled Severus’s mind, and old resentments began to resurface. It wasn’t fair that his mother could no longer practice magic. It wasn’t fair that Severus had to stalk out the Knight bus clandestinely, and it wasn’t fair that he could not use magic over the holidays. All of this was because some Muggle dunderhead might see it.
However, there was still an apprehensive feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Well?” Regulus stood at Severus’s elbow. “What do you think?”
“He speaks well,” Severus answered, his previous scepticism slowly fading. There was some logic in what the Dark Lord was saying; muggles were quelling the growth of the wizarding race. There was only one thing he could do, and that was to learn more about the plans being made and the people taking part in them. “He speaks very well.”
_____________________________
A/N: Readers keeping up with this story will notice a change to Tobias's accent. I'm trying to get the Yorkshire dialect down (and edited the fourth chapter). Let me know what you think, because if it's too distracting, I may just go back to writing him how I had prior to this...test, of sorts. I'm forever editing. x.x
Thank you for reading.
Anyhow, here's the latest chapter.
Another Plane of Existence
Rated: R (Language and sexual references)
Characters: All my lovely Slytherin boys who turn Death Eaters, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the occasional Marauder, and Lily Evans
Previous disclaimers apply
Another Plane of Existence
Chapter Five
No Socialite
“You look like a vicar.”
Severus, who’d been adjusting the high collar of his robes, paused and glanced at his father reproachfully. “Excuse me?”
“You look,” Tobias slowly enunciated, “like a vicar.”
Severus bowed his head to get a better look at his robes, feeling quite insulted. Shopping wasn’t something he spent a lot of time doing or thinking about, and it had actually taken him a long time to pick out dress robes that suited his tastes. This particular set had been lightly used, but the material was good and the design simple. No frills for Severus. He was merely satisfied that they fit properly.
Of course his muggle father would associate him with a vicar simply because the robes were black and had a high collar.
Tobias leaned back into his seat and folded his arms across his chest, looking wildly amused at his ingenious insults. “Where are the tarts?” he added, each word holding just enough weight so that it clearly implied that he was set on provoking his son.
“At the tavern where you left them, I imagine,” responded Severus dryly.
Surprisingly, Tobias laughed at this. He’d been away drinking the better part of the afternoon and returned within the past hour. Eileen was still at work for Mr. Montford, covering for Severus. Oddly enough, Tobias was more cheerful than usual, and Severus wondered if it was because he would have the house to himself.
“At't tavern where I left them,” Tobias echoed in amusement, his accent thick because of the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. “Cheeky.” He shook his head, his dark eyes coolly surveying Severus’s wardrobe. “Yer mother wasn’t donning clobber like that when I first saw ‘er.”
Severus tugged at a loose thread from one of the buttons on his sleeve cuffs. “That’s not surprising,” he replied shortly.
“She was bonny enough to thoil, mind thee.”
“Right.”
“Little did I know that me own son‘d be traipsin’ about in dressin’ gowns wun day,” continued Tobias. His voice had a sharper edge to it then before, and it wasn’t difficult to see that things were quickly beginning to fall apart.
Severus didn’t respond and instead double-checked his robes to make sure everything was in place.
“These…people…yer goin’ to visit, are they like yer mum’s family?”
“Yes.”
Eileen’s family, the Princes, were pureblooded witches and wizards. They weren’t extremely wealthy like the Blacks or Malfoys, but there had been a number of bright, notable witches and wizards in their lineage, and the Prince surname had been respected. That is, until their youngest and only daughter Eileen became involved with a poor muggle boy. Correspondence between the remaining family quickly became icy and forced, and eventually it dissipated into nothing at all. Severus rarely heard anything about his grandparents anymore.
“Watch thissen, then,” Tobias declared. He lifted an eyebrow and lowered his voice sinisterly. “Stay away from their daughters. Lasses are sly enough, but yer mother’s kind,” Tobias’s upper lip curled, “’er kind are the worst.”
Severus met his father’s gaze, but he honestly could not think of a suitable response. He was only glad that his mother wasn’t around to hear what his father was saying; her family and marriage was a sensitive topic. Still, Tobias’s advice wasn’t exactly stemming from nowhere; Eileen hadn’t told Tobias that she was a witch when they first met. In fact, she’d waited until Severus was born and had shown the first signs of possessing magic before confessing the truth to him.
“Bloody wicked witches,” Tobias muttered under his breath.
Severus took that as his cue to leave. He hadn’t bothered to pack an overnight bag, and the only thing he had with him was his wand. Though practicing magic over the summer holidays was forbidden, his wand offered protection and security. He didn’t want to leave it behind, especially when attending a wizard party.
“I’m leaving,” he announced abruptly. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
Tobias eyed Severus sharply for a moment before replying, “Remember what I said.”
“No worries,” Severus said as he paused by the door. “It’s hard to forget something like that.”
“Right, then.” Tobias tilted his head to the side and shrugged a shoulder before reaching for the bottle on the table before him. “Scarper off already.”
Severus whisked out the back door towards the old brick privy. Robes bellowing out behind him, he marched past the small building and ducked through an opening in the fence that separated the yard from the narrow alley behind it. Normally Severus wouldn’t dare have the Knight Bus pick him up behind his home-the bus was much too loud and there was too great a chance of being spotted--however, he didn’t really have another choice. Bringing muggle clothes along was risky and he had no desire to walk through Spinners End dressed in his vicar robes.
It was already past seven o’clock, and he was running behind schedule. Much to his dismay, his mother had refused his request to make a portkey and he was too young to apparate legally. He still had to make it to the Leaky Cauldron and floo to Abbey View. He hoped he wouldn’t be dreadfully late.
After a quick surveillance of his surroundings, he raised his arm to hail the gigantic bus. It was a matter of seconds before he felt a great whoosh of air next to him and heard the sound of screeching brakes. Yvonne’s flushed face greeted him as the great purple doors swung open. “’Lo, Mr. Snape,” she said with a yawn.
“Yvonne,” he murmured, stepping onto the bus. He acknowledged the bus driver with a slight nod and took his usual seat near the front of the bus.
Yvonne sat down in the pilot’s seat and stared at him in such a queer manner that he began to feel very uncomfortable. After staring at him for at least thirty uninterrupted seconds, she rubbed her eyes and peered at him again. “You look different,” she said, smiling peculiarly. “Nice.”
Severus’s mouth quirked in embarrassment. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, rubbing the mole on the side of her face. “Where are you off to tonight?”
“The Leaky Cauldron, please.”
“Right,” she answered. “Hold on, then.” As soon as she the words left her mouth, the bus jarred forward and Severus nearly slid off of the seat and onto the floor. The grumbling protests of the other passengers on the bus echoed his sentiments perfectly. He was suddenly very glad that he hadn’t eaten anything before hailing the bus.
“Next stop is the Leaky Cauldron!” Yvonne harped.
The bus roared away from its previous stop, which was Little Hangleton, and swerved and veered as it travelled to the Leaky Cauldron. Once again, all of the passengers were thrown forward as the bus pulled up to the curb. Severus’s right arm shot out and grabbed one of the metal poles on the bus to keep from flying headfirst into the windshield. Muttering a few choice curse words under his breath, he smoothed out his robes self-consciously stood up to disembark.
“Have a good’un, Mr. Snape,” Yvonne called out.
“Let’s hope so,” he replied, though his comment was more for himself than for her. Though the better part of the summer had passed without incident, the fact that Evans was aware of his true lineage remained to be a huge weight on his shoulders. The invitation to Bellatrix’s engagement party was a small relief, but Severus remained vigilant. It could very well be a trap, for all he knew. He pictured himself being all but exiled from Slytherin by all of his housemates.
Frowning, he approached the Leaky Cauldron and ducked through the door.
The tavern was relatively empty, save a few old wizards who lifted their bushy eyebrows at Severus as he approached the bar. He reached into his inside pockets and pulled out a couple sickles, passing them between his fingers apprehensively.
Tom, the old bartender, walked over and greeted Severus with a toothless grin. “Well, hello there. What can I do for you this evening?”
“I’d like to purchase some floo powder,” answered Severus. “Enough for two round trips please.” He pushed the coins across the counter towards Tom.
“Of course, of course.” Tom nodded enthusiastically and ducked beneath the bar. Severus could hear him rustling around, and a moment later his bald head emerged and he thrust a small sack of floo powder into Severus’s hands. “There you are.”
“Thank you,” Severus replied. He picked up the small sack and turned it around in his hands, inspecting it.
“It’s nothing,” Tom replied, dismissing Severus with a hand. “The fireplace is over there,” he added, nodding towards the opposite side of the room. Severus turned in the direction he was pointed, noting the crackling fire and the shadows dancing on the walls.
“Just make sure you speak up,” Tom added genially. “I’m not responsible if you land on someone’s great aunt.”
Severus barely managed a smile. He had no intentions of landing on anyone’s great aunt. “I’ll do my best.” Untying his sack of powder, he approached the fireplace and poured a handful of dust into the palm of his hand. Not wanting to waste any more time, he tossed it into the fire. The flames blazed green in front of him.
“Abbey View!” he said smoothly, carefully enunciating every consonant and vowel. He stepped into the fire, and for a moment found himself swirling through a vortex of absolutely nothing. The next thing he knew, he was stumbling through a giant marble fireplace. Coughing up ash into his hand, he straightened up and stepped onto the Turkish rug in front of the hearth.
“Snape!” an excited voice called from his left. “You made it!”
Snape recognized the voice immediately; it was Regulus. The younger boy quickly approached the fireplace, smiling broadly. His dark hair was combed away from his face, leaving his delicate features clearly visible. He was dressed in heavy, black dress robes lined in green and accented with serpent clasps. They were very posh.
“I did,” Severus said. Disentangling his hair with his fingers, he hoped that he didn’t look like a sooty wreck. That wasn’t quite the impression he was intent on making.
“You’re clean,” Regulus said casually. He pointed to a large mirror hanging on the wall. “You can check if don’t believe me.”
“Thanks,” Severus murmured, allowing himself a fleeting glance at his reflection, “but I’m fine.” The last thing he wanted to do was fawn over himself in front of a Black.
Regulus nodded. “The Blacks always make sure they are presentable. Impressions are important.” He made a mock bow and gestured to his dress robes.
“Very Slytherin,” Snape mused.
“To the core,” Regulus agreed. “My mother and father wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“And your brother?”
Regulus’s eyes flickered up at Severus suspiciously. “Sirius?” he said in a tight voice. “You mean that you haven’t heard?”
Severus frowned. “No. Heard what?”
The corners of Regulus’s mouth pulled taut. “He’s gone. He and my parents were having quite a row one night and he decided he’d had enough. Ran off.”
It was surprising news. Severus knew that Sirius was a hardheaded idiot, but he never really expected him to abandon the Black family. It was difficult to understand, seeing as that being a Black gave way to all sorts of opportunities that Severus would never have. Sirius had everything handed to him on a silver platter and had the gall to turn his nose away, the bloody fool. Severus would give an arm and a leg to have half of the opportunities that Sirius did.
“I see,” Severus said finally. Sirius was a blood traitor and showed little promise of reform. He thought Black family was better off without him, frankly. Regulus certainly was, anyhow. “I’m sure you’ll come to realize it’s no great loss.” He wondered how the news was being handled throughout the other pureblooded families, who loved scandals.
Regulus narrowed his eyes. “If you say so. All I know is that things have been hell lately. Mum is screaming about abominations and abandonment, Dad is stewing about like a gobstone ready to explode, and I haven’t heard a word from Sirius since. Selfish bastard.”
“Where did he go?”
“To Potter,” Regulus said bitterly. “Who else?”
Severus made a face. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be.” Regulus dropped his gaze to the floor and sighed. “Anyhow, this party’s been a distraction of sorts, excluding the fact that my mum and my Uncle Alphard aren’t speaking.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s a long story involving Sirius,” Regulus answered shortly. He glanced up and gestured down the hall. “Look, why don’t we go see what everyone else is up to, eh?” He was clearly trying to change the subject, and Severus didn’t feel the need to press the issue. If Regulus wanted to talk, he’d talk.
Together they walked out of the entrance hall and down a hallway decorated with dozens of moving photographs and portraits. Music, voices, and laughter echoed throughout the corridors.
“There are quite a few people here already,” Regulus pointed out uselessly.
Snape nodded.
“Bellatrix and Rodolphus are greeting guests in the parlour, which is where most of the adults are congregating.” He turned a corner and gestured for Snape to follow him, walking down another corridor. “I’m supposed to keep an eye out for incoming guests,” he continued, turning to Severus with a wary smile and shaking his head slowly. “The greeter.”
He directed Severus to a door down the dimly lit hall. “Let’s go in here. Rabastan was trying to nick some of the liquor from my uncle’s bar last time I saw him.”
“Now there’s a surprise,” Snape said, rolling his eyes skyward. Of course it wouldn’t take Rabastan long to get himself pissed. It was a party, after all.
Much to their amusement, Rabastan heard their entrance only a moment too late and nearly dropped a bottle of firewhiskey whilst feebly attempting to hide it. “Damn it,” he murmured, breathing heavily, “you blokes scared the shit out of me.”
Regulus chuckled and Severus couldn’t help but snort. “Not happy to see me?” he greeted.
“Not at the expense of some booze,” Rabastan grumbled, but he was smiling. “How’s your holiday been, Snape?”
“Uneventful,” Snape replied, “but I’m not complaining.”
“No run-ins with any mudbloods?”
Severus twitched. “What?”
Rabastan grinned wickedly. “I’m taking the mickey out of you, Snape.” He shrugged. “You do remember the last month of this past school year, don’t you?”
Severus slowly breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, that.” He snorted in disgust. “Thankfully, my summer has been redhead-free.”
Regulus snickered.
“You bought some new robes, I see,” Rabastan said with a smirk. He thumbed his own robes, which were chocolate brown and tailored to fit his tall frame.
“When the occasion arises,” Snape replied, shrugging off the subtle gibe. He was actually happy to see his fellow Slytherins again. It was almost worrisome to realize that he’d actually missed their company. The fact that they had no idea about his encounter with Evans at the train station comforted him a great deal, however, and he loosened up substantially.
“Occasions,” Rabastan said with a chuckle, “that undoubtedly call for something to drink.” He unscrewed the cap of the firewhiskey bottle and tilted it up to his lips. After several large gulps, he pulled it away and made a face. “It always burns at first,” he said unnecessarily, and passed it to Regulus. “Have a go at it, Regulus.”
Regulus grinned wickedly and raised the bottle. “To occasions,” he said, and nodded at both Severus and Rabastan. “Like welcoming new members into the family.”
The smile on Rabastan’s face faded and he grunted and mumbled something under his breath.
“Get used to it,” Snape advised him.
Regulus wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and held the bottle out to Severus. “Your turn,” he said.
Severus quickly grabbed it from him. He had a fleeting image of his father sitting at the kitchen table, but dismissed it almost immediately. He was not his father. He was not a muggle drunkard.
He raised the bottle into the air and lowered his voice. A sudden inspiration hit him, and he decided to make another toast.
“To the Dark Lord,” he murmured. After all, that was the real reason that everyone was so interested in attending the engagement party.
Regulus eyes widened and Rabastan hissed in a breath of air at Snape’s dedication. Snape passed the bottle to his left.
“To the Dark Lord,” Rabastan murmured. He took a drink and passed the bottle on.
Someone cleared their throat from the hallway, and Regulus, who’d been mid-gulp, yelped and sloshed whiskey down the front of his robes. “Bugger,” he grumbled, wiping away the droplets self-consciously.
“Rosier,” Rabastan said lazily, eyeing the unexpected guest. “Late as always. Is Florence around somewhere?”
“Very funny,” Evan replied testily, entering the room. He plopped down onto an armchair and surveyed the others. “Well, you tossers,” he said after a moment, “are you going to pass me the bottle or not?”
“Only if you drink to Bellatrix and the Dark Lord,” Regulus replied, eyes shining.
“Together?”
Snape snickered quietly. “You are a twit, Rosier,” he said. “That could be considered blasphemous, you realize.”
“Why?” Rosier protested. “The Dark Lord has eyes, and Bellatrix has…many other things.” He gave the boys a lopsided grin and lifted his eyebrows suggestively.
“She’s marrying my brother, you arse,” Rabastan growled.
“Then perhaps you could get me a picture-“ Rosier started, but he never got to finish, because Rabastan stepped forward and put him in a headlock.
“OY!”
“Stop being so bloody stupid-“
“-Was joking, ouch! You’re messing up my hair!”
“Right, pretty boy-OW!”
“Ha!” Rosier stood up triumphantly and gave Rabastan a white-toothed grin.
Rabastan grimaced and rubbed his side. “You used a stinging hex!” he said accusingly.
Rosier shrugged and pulled his wand out of his royal blue dress robes. “There is so much magic going on here tonight that the Ministry won’t know the difference one way or the other.”
“True enough,” Regulus agreed. “We’ve gotten away with it before. Mind you, my parents aren’t exactly strict in their monitoring, as long as we’re not breaking anything…”
Severus sighed internally. There was no way that he would be able to get away with magic at Spinner’s End. His mother hardly used it anymore, and the Ministry would certainly be able to trace it back to him. Even so, he was glad that his wand was tucked safely away inside his sleeve pocket.
“Aw, I won’t break anything,” Rosier said with a wink. He flicked his wand to a cabinet in the corner and summoned four glasses, which hurtled towards the boys at an alarming speed.
Severus backed out of the way as one nearly crashed into his head, and Regulus managed to catch one as it flew past him. His eyes shifted nervously and he shot Rosier a murderous look. “Those are my aunt’s good glasses!”
Rosier caught the glass that had nearly collided with Snape in his left hand and managed to catch another with his right. Unfortunately, one more glass went right over his shoulder and smashed into the wall, shattering and littering the floor with shiny delicate pieces of crystal.
“Er,” he said, staring at the pieces, “don’t worry.” He set the two glasses on the table and flicked his wand towards the shattered pieces. “Reparo!”
In an instant, the pieces reformed themselves into the glass. Rosier bent down to inspect it and nodded. “If there is one spell I’m decent at,” he said slowly, “it’s ‘reparo’.”
Severus shook his head. “You’re going to need it for your head someday, Rosier. You’re senseless.”
Rabastan snorted as he poured firewhiskey into the two glasses on the table and prodded Regulus to hand over his glass as well. “Come on, Black. It’s a party. Loosen up, will you?”
Regulus smiled weakly. “Sure,” he said, “all right.”
Rosier clapped him on the back. “Brilliant,” he said cheerfully, waiting for his glass to be filled. “Are we sure no one will find us back here?”
“My family is too busy to bother,” Regulus replied. “Bellatrix and her parents are busy receiving guests, and I expect my mother and father are entertaining as well.” He picked up his glass, which was now half full of firewhiskey. “Narcissa and Andromeda are probably around there too, mooning over wedding dresses and Lucius Malfoy, if he’s arrived.”
“I do not moon, Regulus Black,” a delicate voice snapped.
All of the Slytherin boys turned to the doorway, where a cross looking Narcissa was standing, flanked by Merrick Avery and Fulton Wilkes, two Slytherin boys who were going into their seventh year at Hogwarts.
The corners of Regulus’s mouth twitched mischievously. “Hello, Narcissa,” he said smoothly. “Avery,” he greeted the boys, “Wilkes.”
Wilkes looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh, while Avery gazed at the boys suspiciously.
“Do not hello Narcissa me,” Narcissa said sharply. “Pretending as though I didn’t hear what you said.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at her cousin.
Regulus grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“You should be,” she scolded him. “It’s your job to greet the guests, and poor Fulton and Merrick were stuck chatting with mad old Auntie Dora for the past twenty minutes.”
Severus wasn’t sure who Auntie Dora was, but by the look on Regulus’s face he gathered that she was someone one wouldn’t want to spend a lot of time with.
“My apologies,” Regulus said earnestly, wrinkling his nose. “I’m terribly sorry.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” spoke up Wilkes, glancing at Narcissa. “Really, I was all right until she started imitating the sounds a houself makes when decapitated.”
Regulus groaned. “She must be drinking,” he said. His cheeks were flushed, either from embarrassment or the consumption of firewhiskey, though Severus was inclined to think it was the former.
“Something stiff, by the smell of her,” Avery spoke up gruffly.
The entire room was quiet as everyone soaked up what he said, and then they all began to laugh. Allowing himself a rare smile, Severus made the mental note to stay away from Auntie Dora.
“You look lovely, Narcissa,” an unabashed Rosier piped up from the back of the room.
Rabastan nodded in agreement and even Severus had to admit that she looked very pretty. Her long blond hair was tied into a knot at the nape of her long neck, and she was dressed in pale blue robes that shimmered in the light.
Narcissa softened only slightly. “Thank you, Evan.” Her blue eyes skimmed over every boy in the room, silently evaluating each of them. “You boys look very nice yourselves,” she said finally, walking into the room. Moving in between Regulus and Severus, she picked up one of the glasses and arched an eyebrow.
“Drinking?” she asked gently.
“I-“ Regulus stuttered, looking around helplessly, “that is, we-“
“Don’t bother.” Narcissa shook her head and lifted the glass of firewhiskey to her lips. Severus blinked at her in surprise. The other Slytherins were reacting similarly; Regulus’s mouth was hanging open and Rabastan was gazing at her with a look of complete and total adoration. Rosier and Wilkes were snickering quietly and Avery was already helping himself to a glass of firewhiskey.
“Ugh,” said Narcissa, pulling a face, “it’s vile.” She set the glass back down on the table. “If I were you I would have chosen a bottle of wine, or at least a bottle of brandy.”
“Brandy is for pansies,” Rabastan replied bluntly. He then proceeded to down the rest of his glass of firewhiskey in a show of manly pomposity.
“And?” Narcissa asked.
Rabastan furrowed his brows. “And what?”
A small smile twitched at the corners of Narcissa’s lips. “And nothing, Rabastan,” she said. “Never mind.”
The look of bewilderment on the young Lestrange brother’s face passed as quickly as it had appeared, and he turned his attention back to the firewhiskey bottle, which was three-quarters of the way gone.
Severus glanced sideways at Narcissa. “It’s no use using subtle allusions on Lestrange when he’s drinking,” he said pointedly. “You may as well call him a pansy directly to his face and get on with it.”
She smiled at him. “But where’s the fun in that?”
Severus looked past her at Rabastan, who was now challenging Wilkes and Avery to a drinking contest. “It all depends on whether or not you find dodging hexes fun,” he replied.
Narcissa’s eyes twinkled. “Not in my evening clothes,” she responded. She turned her pale face up to Snape and gave him a small smile. “You’re clever, you know.”
Snape stared at her in bemusement. Was he supposed to answer that somehow? He wasn’t sure, and he could feel the inner clockwork inside of his mind grinding to halt; the seconds it was taking him to respond were turning into minutes and then hours. Severus felt anything but clever.
Thankfully, the silence was broken by Regulus, who shoved a drink into Severus’s hand.
“Quick, finish this up. We’re all going to have to go face the rest of the party in a moment,” Regulus muttered. “They’ll be wondering where we’ve all gone.”
Narcissa nodded. “I was just about to leave.” She bowed her head gracefully, lowering her eyes to the floor. “I’ll see you around, gentlemen.”
A chorus of goodbyes followed her as she exited the room. Severus watched her blonde head disappear as she turned a corner in the hall. He wasn’t the only one.
“Well,” said Wilkes, “let’s finish off the evidence, eh?” He took one last swig from the bottle and passed it to his right.
Each boy took a swig, and Avery placed himself at the end, consuming the last of the contents. “Right,” he said smacking his lips, “let’s get out there.” He turned to the younger boys and glared at them harshly. “And if any of you act like wankers tonight, I will personally see to it that you are introduced to Auntie Dora.”
* * *
As the party progressed, Severus could sense the tension and excitement building. Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked especially pleased, and exchanged several significant looks with other members of Slytherin house. Even the adults and parents in the room seemed anxious to meet the special guest.
Severus placed himself in a far corner of the room for most of the party. He rather liked it; it allowed him to survey the room and its occupants unobtrusively. He had, of course, congratulated Bellatrix and Rodolphus on their engagement, but shortly after he decided that he’d keep a low profile and lurk in the shadows, away from most of the group. Bella had been standing like a proud figurehead most of the night, her dark hair falling in gentle waves around her shoulders. Once or twice she and Severus’s eyes met and she’d give him a knowing smile. Important guest or no, it was her night to shine, and shine she did. Rumour had it that the Dark Lord had been quite taken with Bella and offered her a chance to study with him.
Thus far he’d spent most of the night talking with his housemates, so he was fairly surprised to see a young man with a pointed face and silvery blonde hair approach him.
“Severus Snape?”
Severus nodded. There was no mistaking who the man was. Severus had watched him chat up various people throughout the night. “You must be Lucius Malfoy.”
“I am.” Lucius nodded, his grey eyes surveying Snape shrewdly. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers. I’m pleased to finally meet you.”
Severus regarded Lucius carefully, taking in his words. Something inside of him inflated proudly upon hearing Lucius’s words of recognition. Perhaps he was finally making a name for himself.
“Your name isn’t unfamiliar in Slytherin house, either,” he answered politely.
“I should hope not,” Lucius replied, arching an eyebrow. “It would be disconcerting to hear that all of my delegating has had no effect whatsoever.”
“Delegating?”
Lucius laughed lightly. “Yes, Severus, delegating. Am I right in assuming that you’re not here to celebrate an engagement? Forgive me for being blunt, but you don’t strike me as a socialite.”
Severus narrowed his eyes, keen on where Lucius was heading with the conversation. He had not openly voiced his opinions about the Dark Lord besides making the toast earlier, and guarded his position very carefully. If he was going to take a risk, he deemed it necessary to make sure that his well-being was taken care of. Having no experience with Lucius, the noble pureblooded families, or the Dark Lord himself, Severus was treading very lightly.
“No, I’m no socialite, as you say.”
Lucius smiled. “I thought not. Bellatrix has mentioned that you’re something of a loner, though she assures me that you’re quite a talent when it comes to the Dark Arts, which is saying something, coming from her.” His grey eyes glinted.
Severus nodded slowly. “They interest me, yes.”
“A reputable hobby in some circles, I think,” Lucius agreed smoothly. “Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Yorkshire.”
“Really?” The pitch of Lucius’s voice rose as his curiosity piqued. “Hm. You don’t really sound like a tyke.”
Severus shifted his weight uneasily, wondering how much longer Lucius was going to play twenty questions. He noticed that Bellatrix had disappeared and the other guests were slowly filtering out of the room, though he wasn’t sure if this was because they were going home or if they were moving to another area of the house. He spotted Regulus chatting with Rosier, and Wilkes and Rabastan speaking with his brother. Had they been accosted by Lucius too?
Turning back to Malfoy, he realized he must have missed something Lucius had said, as the Slytherin alum was smiling at him queerly.
“Severus?”
Severus managed to smile apologetically. “Yes?”
“Your surname-Snape--is English, isn’t it?”
Clenching his teeth, Severus nodded. “Correct.” The direction of the conversation was not promising.
“Interesting.”
“Is it?”
“It’s not a name you hear very often.”
“I hope to rectify that someday,” Severus answered levelly.
“Such ambition,” Lucius mused, arching an eyebrow. “I respect that, having similar desires myself.” He smiled and gestured around the room. “Of course, most Slytherins do.”
Severus sighed a breath of relief internally, thankful that he’d managed to steer the topic of conversation away from his bloodlines.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Narcissa appeared at Severus’s side, smiling prettily at Lucius. “I apologize for interrupting your conversation, but Bellatrix sent me to tell you that our special guest of honour has arrived and is meeting people in the dining room.”
Lucius, who’d first looked annoyed at being interrupted, softened and bowed his head. “Thank you, Narcissa.” A look of approval glittered in his eyes as he observed the younger girl. “I’ll leave for the dining room straightaway.” He turned to Snape. “I hope to continue this conversation in the future, Severus. I’ll speak with you later, I’m sure.” After bowing his head once more, he turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving Narcissa and Severus by themselves.
She glanced over at him and shook her head. A loose lock of hair fell across her forehead. “You never cease to amaze me, Snape.”
He wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean by that?”
“Your reputation,” she answered simply. “Lucius Malfoy sought you out, and that’s not a common occurrence.”
“I’m sure he was just making rounds,” Severus said flatly. “He probably talked with most of the guests tonight.”
Narcissa shook her head again. “No,” she said, “he didn’t.” She pursed her lips for a moment, looking disappointed.
Severus assumed by her pout that she was one of the people whom Lucius ignored. Malfoy was quite a bit older than her so it didn’t strike Severus as odd that the two didn’t speak. Surely she wasn’t considering him as a romantic interest? It was an odd notion and it perplexed him. Since she obviously didn’t know Lucius as much more than an acquaintance, it didn’t make sense for her to be enamoured with him. It was probably a silly schoolgirl crush.
“Let’s go,” she said finally, brushing back her hair and gesturing towards the doorway. “We don’t want to be late.”
* * *
The dining room was full of people both young and old. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had taken seats near the front of the room where the Dark Lord was standing. Bellatrix was sitting regally, chin lifted and shoulders back, eyes fixed on the Dark Lord as if there were no other people in the room. Rodolphus put his arm around her possessively.
The wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort was like no one Severus had ever seen before. He was a tall, thin man, with a bone-pale complexion and emaciated features. Though he was dressed in fine robes and moved about gracefully, it was quite clear that a few members of the engagement party found him repulsive. Narcissa could barely lift her eyes past the level of the Dark Lord’s spidery hands.
Severus was in awe of him. Not only was he struck by the fact that the Dark Lord barely resembled a human form anymore, but he was compelled by the man’s finesse. In a matter of minutes, the entire room was hanging on Lord Voldemort’s every word, impressed by his knowledge and resourcefulness.
In the back of the room, Severus listened attentively as the Dark Lord continued his speech.
“You see, my friends, I understand your remonstrations of our current predicament. I too find it disconcerting that the Ministry is doing nothing to stop Muggle encroachment. Do they not understand that by facilitating Muggle needs they are repressing the needs of their own kind? Don’t you think it’s unfair that they are wasting funds and time on Muggles, who have no appreciation or concern for our own well-being? Most Muggles are completely ignorant of our existence! They are completely unaware of our nobility and talent, of the magic that flows through the veins of each and every one of you standing here tonight.” He paused for effectiveness, his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes skimming over his captivated audience.
“I believe we have been too tolerant. As Muggle favouritism continues, pureblood families like yours will be corrupted and possibly forced into extinction. I hope that I am not being audacious when I say that I doubt any of you like this subjugation.”
“You’re not, my lord,” Bellatrix whispered in the front of the room.
The Dark Lord nodded, his lips forming a twisted smile. “I thought not, Bellatrix. This is why I have made it my personal goal to fight for the wizarding race. There is no reason that we should sit idly while the ministry continues to overlook our needs. I am not too modest to assure you that I am a very powerful wizard. I can make it so that your bloodlines are not being contaminated by common blood. I can give you back your living space so that you will not have to hide your craft from petty fools.”
All around Severus, people were nodding and murmuring enthusiastically.
“If you are interested,” the Dark Lord continued, “do not hesitate to approach me. Together we can restore our world to the way it should be. We will fight against those who oppose us, we will break down the barriers that confine us, and we will win. Lord Voldemort is not a wizard who gives up easily. I do not plan on giving up at all. We will have power once again.”
The room erupted into applause, and Severus clapped soundly along with them. Though he never considered himself impressionable, the Dark Lord’s charisma was hard to ignore. Everyone in the room could relate to something in his speech.
Thoughts of his father filled Severus’s mind, and old resentments began to resurface. It wasn’t fair that his mother could no longer practice magic. It wasn’t fair that Severus had to stalk out the Knight bus clandestinely, and it wasn’t fair that he could not use magic over the holidays. All of this was because some Muggle dunderhead might see it.
However, there was still an apprehensive feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Well?” Regulus stood at Severus’s elbow. “What do you think?”
“He speaks well,” Severus answered, his previous scepticism slowly fading. There was some logic in what the Dark Lord was saying; muggles were quelling the growth of the wizarding race. There was only one thing he could do, and that was to learn more about the plans being made and the people taking part in them. “He speaks very well.”
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A/N: Readers keeping up with this story will notice a change to Tobias's accent. I'm trying to get the Yorkshire dialect down (and edited the fourth chapter). Let me know what you think, because if it's too distracting, I may just go back to writing him how I had prior to this...test, of sorts. I'm forever editing. x.x
Thank you for reading.