So It Goes On

Chapter 58: Midnight 24th December 1981

A Precarious Agreement

Midnight 24th December 1981

After the first fall of Voldemort two months ago, Severus Snape, along with the other Death Eaters had been quickly tried and condemned to Azkaban. It took Albus Dumbledore far longer than he liked, one month to be precise, to convince the Ministry to free Severus and then it took another month for the man to recover from his imprisonment. There, the Potioneer had been condemned to isolation with only a malicious Dementor for company. Severus had been convinced that he was going to die there so now, it seemed surreal to be walking the Hogwarts grounds in the snow.

The castle was deserted as not a single student had remained there for the holidays following the end of the war and Severus was relieved. It allowed him to walk out on the grounds without having to avoid joyful students running around in the snow. He'd been spending his time generally avoiding all human contact and conversation for the last month and he'd done a very good job of it.

That was, until, after about twenty minutes outside, he saw the headmaster walking over to him wearing a ridiculously patterned cloak and hat, which would probably make anyone else laugh hysterically. But not Severus.

"Poppy will not be happy to find you outside, Severus," Albus said to him but the younger wizard didn't reply. "She claims that you're the worst patient she's ever had, you know," he added with a twinkle in his tired eyes. "I can't help but feel that you've rather been avoiding us," he added after a moment.

"Clearly, you can't take a hint like everyone else," Severus retorted.

"Clearly not, no," Albus said, staring at the younger wizard with piercing blue eyes.

Severus was still clearly in mourning for Lilly Potter and likely would be for some time but not only that, he was still visibly weak and Albus had spent many a night watching over the man's bedside as he slept fitfully. It had taken him by surprise that over the last few months, that he and Severus had gone from a truce built upon necessity to something resembling real trust - even if he had failed Severus in the sense that the Potter's were dead and the man himself had been imprisoned.

"I have to admit, I've missed our conversations," Albus remarked.

"I have nothing to report, there is nothing to report on any more."

"There will be. But that wasn't what I meant."

"What other conversations have we had that you could possibly miss?" Severus scoffed at him. "Our late night, sleep deprived and now foolish attempts at protecting the people that I myself doomed? Do you miss those, perhaps?" he mocked.

"You know that wasn't what I meant. I feel their loss too and I am arguably more to blame than you yourself," Albus said, sadly.

Severus scoffed at him and glared for a moment. "Did you follow me out here to make sure that I hadn't fled now that I'm of no use to you?" he demanded.

"No, of course not. I was concerned for you. I have been concerned for you for some time. I feared that you would not recover. I am...truly sorry, Severus," Albus sighed. "I'm sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. I'm sorry that you were left there for..."

"It doesn't matter," Severus interrupted him.

"But it does. What was done to your mind was..."

"Don't mention it...any of it...ever again."

"...Very well," the old man agreed, clearly reluctantly. "Incidentally, your Occlumency shields are quite possibly the most impressive I've seen in all my years," he began after a moment in an attempt at cheerfulness. "It's especially surprising in a wizard so young. Minerva and Poppy certainly couldn't believe it when I failed to break through them for those first few weeks."

"Because the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore is infallible," Severus sneered.

"The not so great or powerful Albus Dumbledore is still required to rest after all his efforts to get through to your mind," Albus said, his eyes twinkling. "Quite instinctive to you, isn't it?" he asked, "It took me decades to learn. I was quite impatient in my youth and it rather frustrated me at the time."

"I had...an effective tutor," the younger wizard said, carefully.

"Might I enquiry as to the methods this tutor used?"

"No."

"Ah, what a pity. It could enlighten young minds everywhere."

"Not likely."

"Well, if you insist," Albus relented. "However...enlightening young minds is what I intended to discuss with you at some point," he said. "You are a free man by all rights..." the Potions Master snorted at him but it didn't seem to deter Albus.

"I've already agreed to protect the Potter boy when...if...the Dark Lord returns..."

"And in the meantime, I think it wisest that you remain here as a teacher."

"Hasn't it been made clear to you in my short term here that teaching is not in my nature?"

"Perhaps not. But what other choice is there? When Voldemort..."

"Don't say his name," Snape's hissed, instinctively clutching at the Dark Mark on his arm.

"When Voldemort returns you must..."

"I know what I must do if the day comes and I am prepared for it. We've had this conversation before, you don't need to repeat it to me."

"Not exactly. We barely had time to discuss anything before you were arrested. What better way is there for you to protect Lily's son than this? Other than raising the child yourself?"

"No!" Severus objected, horrified.

"Then it's settled."

"I'm a convicted Death Eater. Even you might have a hard time convicting people that I'd make a good teacher."

"Well, I can be quite persuasive," Albus said, simply. "It's not going to be easy," he added, "A lesser man would have fled."

"To what? Where would I flee to?" Severus muttered, lowering his head, hiding behind strands of black hair.

"You'll stay?"

"...Yes," he sighed and Dumbledore nodded.

"It seems...rather reluctant but...in the spirit of the season...Happy Christmas, Severus," Albus smiled at him after a moment, just a little.

"Hmmm," Severus scoffed.

"Yes, you're not one for festive celebrations, are you? How foolish of me," the headmaster said in good humour and he rested a hand on Severus' shoulder. "Come back inside, a warm fire will work wonders on these cold days," he said.

Severus sighed but with little energy or will to protest, he allowed himself to be lead towards the castle which would become both like a prison to him, and surprisingly, a refuge as well in later years.

Chapter 59: 12th April 2004

The Wizengamot

12th April 2004

Severus Snape had been staring at the letter in his hand for about a minute in shocked silence. He was, as usual, sitting at his office desk, idly talking to the portraits as he sorted through his morning post and he hadn't thought much of it when he'd seen the seal on wax stamp on the envelope, but now, re reading the letter, he was too stunned to speak.

"Severus?" Albus' portrait questioned, "What is it? Is something wrong? You've gone rather quiet."

"How rude," Phineas Black huffed.

"Lay off the man, Black," another portrait sighed, "Anyone would think you wanted him to burn your portrait."

"You'd have been at the bottom of the Lake if I was still in charge," someone added much to Phineas' ire.

"Quiet," Severus snapped at them, suddenly.

"Severus, my dear boy, what's wrong?" Albus asked, leaning forwards in his painted chair at Severus' unusually concerned gaze.

"Elphais Dodge..."

"Is dead," Phineas rolled his eyes. "Died last month, didn't he? We might be old portraits, but we're not senile, you know?" he said.

"Elphais Dodge's seat in the Wizengamot," the younger wizard continued, as though he hasn't been interrupted as he glared at the portrait for a moment. "They've decided on who'll replace him as Special Advisor," he said.

"About time too," Everard said, "They always did take too long to make decisions...but why should they be writing to you about it?"

Severus stared blankly at the portrait before the realisation dawned on the portrait while Albus beamed at him.

"I believe congratulations are in order," Albus said, happily.

"But...but...he's too young to be on the Wizengamot!" Phineas exclaimed, "And he's a convicted..."

"I think it's a fine choice," Dippet nodded and many of the other portraits seemed to agree with him.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm not going to accept it," Severus scoffed and put down the letter.

"Well, why ever not?" Dippet asked.

"I get enough trouble from being headmaster and I don't need any more exploding letters accusing me of having the Ministry in my pocket," he answered.

"Since when did you care about what people think?" Everard asked, crossing his arms. "Since when did any headmaster..."

"Or headmistress..." Elizabeth Burke, a former headmistress, interrupted him, haughtily.

"Yes, thank you, Elizabeth..." he sighed. "Since when did we care about what people think of us as head of this school?" he asked.

"That's easy for you to say," Severus replied, "You don't have to deal with the consequences."

"Neither do you, you just ignore them. You burn those dreadful letters and you enjoy doing it. Don't lie," Dippet said. "You used the last ones for target practice. Jolly good fun that was, too," he snorted.

"At least meet with them and discuss it," Albus suggested, "It's a wonderful opportunity for you."

"I can't see any reason why they'd offer it to me," Severus replied, shaking his head. "Convicted criminals are forbidden by law to hold an official position in the Ministry...or at least someone with a public record of crimes that can't be covered up is banned from it."

"They didn't stop you from staying here as headmaster," Albus said.

"Not for lack of trying, as you well know," Severus replied, dryly.

"That's my point, Severus, it means you have the majority in your favour. There wasn't a year that went by when I didn't receive letters telling me just how unsuitable I was as headmaster, I'm sure you remember."

"But the Wizengamot, Albus," the younger wizard sighed, "I'm not political. I despise politics."

"Yes, I seem to recall you telling me that you hated children as well...and yet, here you are still," Albus smiled while Severus glared at him. "Besides, as an Advisor, you won't be expected to attend the Wizengamot every day. If they need you, they'll send for you," he added.

"So...I'm to be a puppet to the Ministry?" Severus sneered.

"No," Albus shook his head. "You'll quite possibly be the youngest wizard to ever have a seat on the Wizengamot and your insight will be considerably different to theirs. You could make some considerable changes...as you have done here."

"Every change I've made here has been met with astounding disapproval."

"Nevertheless, you have improved our educational system, however difficult it's been. I confess, many are changes that I myself should have made, but it becomes far too easy to see change as a thing to be avoided rather than tackled head on," he said, smiling at Severus. "But you never did shy away from a challenge, did you?" he asked.

As always, Severus turned away from Albus' praise and his twinkling eyes, not knowing what to say in return. He never did handle praise well, having never received very much of it as a child and the only praise he received as a young man was when he was doing something less than savoury.

"I can't do it," Severus said, still not looking at Albus' portrait. "The Wizengamot...the Ministry...it's too public. I'm not suited to the limelight. I don't need it and I didn't ask for it. All I asked for is for them to leave me be...and now this. It must be their idea of a belated April Fool's joke," he scoffed.

"I highly doubt that, my boy, and the Wizengamot is hardly public," the old headmaster replied.

"Public enough."

"And being headmaster of the best Wizarding school in the country isn't?" Dippet asked.

"He's got a point, you know," Elizabeth shrugged, elegantly and Severus glared at her in response.

"We could always ask Minerva for her opinion..." Albus began, smiling.

"Don't you dare," Severus said, quickly.

"I think I saw her prowling the second floor corridor," one of the portraits offered.

"Excellent," Albus clapped his hands together.

"No," Severus reiterated, sternly.

"Phineas, why don't you just..." Albus said.

"No!" Severus reiterated.

"Yes, I'll..." Phineas chuckled, standing up in his portrait and pointing across the room.

"One of these days Albus..." Severus grumbled.

"At least think about it, Severus."

"I did. For about two seconds. The answer is still no."

All Albus could do was let out a sigh but in the meantime, Phineas had vanished from his portrait. Several minites later, Minerva arrived and the discussion was repeated again.

Chapter 60: 18th April 2000

Frank and Alice Longbottom

18th April 2000

Once again, Severus retreated from the broken and tortured mind of Frank Longbottom feeling defeated and depressed. As it always was, it was difficult for him to accept defeat but, as he always did, he accepted it with a heavy sigh.

"The same again?" the elderly Mediwitch Ava Nichols asked him and he silently nodded. She was there every time he came to visit the Longbottom's with renewed zeal. She was also the only one who actually knew that he visited them every few months. Not even Minerva knew.

Severus spared the the man reclining listlessly on the bed one last glance, as he rebuilt his battered and tired Occlumency shields.

"I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose," the grey haired woman said, sadly. "What happened to them was...monstrous. I doubt even the person who caused the damage in the first place could undo it."

"Then why do you allow me to keep trying?" Severus asked.

"For the same reason that you want to keep trying, I imagine. Because...even though I know that medically, it's not possible, I still want to hope that things will work out for them. And, perhaps, I feel a little guilty too. After all these years all we can do for them is make them comfortable. We can cure so many things we can't help them."

Brushing his hair back, Severus stared at her wondering what on Earth she had to feel guilty about. She wasn't the one who'd reported a prophecy to Voldemort which had made the Longbottoms and the Potters his targets. His actions had caused the deaths of Lilly and James, and the ruin of Frank and Alice. This mediwitch had nothing to do with it. He expected to see that she was angry with him for failing yet again, but he saw no trace of anger, only sadness for the two Aurors and what had become of them. He said nothing as he turned around and made for the door.

"Until next time, then," she said to his retreating back.

"What makes you think I'll come back?" he asked, stopping, but not turning around to face her.

"You always do," she shrugged and he left without another word.

Severus closed the door quietly behind him after he'd left their small, private room only to be greeted by the sight of two of his former students, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.

"P...Professor Snape, sir," Neville exclaimed with almost comically wide eyes.

"Hello, Headmaster," Luna said, much more calmly and seemingly without surprise. "How are you, sir?" she asked.

"Fine," he snapped as he always did when asked that particular question.

"I'll wait here, you go on and see your parents," Luna said to Neville gently and he nodded, then left after he recovered from the shock of seeing Snape.

"He'll get no response from them," the Headmaster said to her.

"He knows that," she chimed.

"Or recognition."

"He knows that too, but they're his parents," Luna replied, smiling kindly, "He loves them." Severus sneered but she continued to smile at him. "Did they recognise you?" she asked.

"Of course not," he answered.

"Did they say anything?"

"I wasn't there to have a conversation."

"That's a pity," she said. "I've read that people can hear everything around them while they're lying there. I suspect it's the lack of Wrackspurts in their ears. I don't think they like hospitals all that much."

"Naturally," Snape rolled his eyes.

"Maybe next time you could try talking to them, it might help," she suggested.

"What makes you think there will be a 'next time'?"

"Just a feeling, I guess," Luna shrugged.

"Hmmm," he muttered and stalked away.

"Goodbye, professor," she called after him.

Chapter 61: 19th June 1999

19th June 1999

A Short Letter for the Headmaster

The morning after the graduation party, the students who had returned after the war to repeat their final year were due to leave. The portraits in the headmasters office were somewhat disappointed to learn that there had been no diving in the lake to bid goodbye to the giant squid and Severus listened to their usual banter as he drank his morning cup of coffee.

It was the sudden appearance of one of the house elves that broke his usual morning routine by delivering a letter to him.

"Who's it from?" Phineas asked.

"Let the man open it first," Dilys shook her head.

"Probably the students begging for hangover relief potions," Phineas chuckled. "Tell them, no. They deserve their hangovers," he said.

Severus lazily took the letter and opened it. He recognised the handwriting at once. It was Hermione Grangers. After reading through so many of her famously long essays he felt sure that her neat handwriting would be forever imprinted on his memory.

'Dear Professor Snape,

First of all I should probably say this isn't an essay and I'll try to keep it short. I wanted to thank you. I've told you before but I really think I should say it again. I don't think we can ever say it enough. We all owe you far more than we can ever repay. I honestly don't know how you managed to do the things you've done to keep us all safe and I probably never will. But know that we truly do appreciate it and we have the utmost respect for you.

I've spoken to Ginny, Luna and Neville and they know that their open defiance of you during the last year can't have made things any easier for you. As difficult as it was for them, they realise, as so do I, that the Carrows should simply have killed them, but they didn't. You saved them and I can't help but wonder what that cost you. Of course, I don't suppose I'll ever know.

I finally discovered just how you were able to help me by removing my cursed scar and honestly, I don't know how I can ever repay you. Thank you for helping me but I can't help but feel as though you really didn't deserve another scar.

I hope we didn't cause too much trouble with the party last night, we did our best to clean up afterwards, well, some of us did, and I'm sorry if we caused you any trouble over it.

Thank you again Professor, for everything,

Hermione Granger.'

"Well, what is it?" Phineas demanded. Is it the students begging for hangover relief potion? What have they said? Oh, do tell me. I'm simply dying to know."

"Honestly," Dilys shook her head.

"It's nothing to do with you, Phineas," Severus replied, simply. He folded the letter and hid it away in a drawer on his desk.

A.N. I'm curious what you guys think about the canon relationship of Hermione and Ron, I just don't think it'd work but let me know what you guys think. I've been reading a lot of Hermione and Snape fics lately and I think I've been converted. Should I write about that here?

Chapter 62: January 2000

Unexpected Consequences

January 2000

At the end of the last year, Severus and Lucius Malfoy had been the only two marked Death Eaters to have survived the curse left behind by the Dark Mark. Lucius seemed to take longer to recover than the headmaster who forced himself out of his bed in a matter of weeks despite Poppy Pomfrey's protests.

The first spell he'd meant to cast was a simple lumos as it had been night when he'd woken and the room was dark but, for some reason, every lamp had exploded and every candle for that matter too, it had been a very messy affair. He'd never made a mistake casting a spell since he'd been a child and even then he'd never made such an error, so he was understandably concerned. He'd cast it wandlessly and non verbally so he attributed to exhaustion and reached for his wand which was on the bedside table. Then he cast a spell to repair the lamps but again, something went wrong. The broken lamps fixed themselves and the candles pieced themselves back together right before they began to polish themselves so much that the friction caused them to polish themselves into ashes.

Now fully awake, Severus wondered if he was dreaming. He went to conjure a glass of water on the nightstand but the glass kept on refilling itself and wouldn't stop even when the room became flooded.

Eventually, Albus Dumbledore's portrait became concerned after hearing the crashing sounds and now that there was water seeping through into the main office, he summoned Minerva who rushed into the room and exclaimed in shock at what she saw.

"What on earth?!" she exclaimed, "Why is..."

"Make it stop," Severus told her.

"Me?"

"Yes!"

Flustered, she pulled her wand from her sleeve and waved it in front of her, cancelling all of the spells. Both she and Severus sighed in relief.

"Severus...what happened?" she asked.

"I...don't know," he answered, still staring at his wand in confusion.

"Perhaps it was too soon for you to..."

"I've cast far more complicated spells in far worse conditions than I'm in now and nothing has ever gone wrong like this before."

"The spells went wrong?"

"Yes."

"How exactly..."

"I conjured a glass of water," Severus said and briefly waved his hand round the room.

"And the room flooded?"

"The glass flooded. Before that I lit the lamp and every single one exploded. I made no mistake...they're simple spells. I don't know..." Severus sighed and rested his tried head in the palm of his hand for a moment.

"You still need rest, Severus," she said, walking over to him and all but tucking him back into bed. "Sleep for now. This can wait," she said.

About a week of rest later, Severus once again tried to cast a simple spell, a summoning spell to read a book and every single one of his books came crashing towards him from all directions at break neck speed. It was lucky for him that Minerva and Remus were in the room with him and they managed to cast shield charms around him before he was literally battered to death by his books.

It was then that he decided to reluctantly ask Poppy to cast a diagnostic charm on him to see just what was wrong. She, finding nothing, then decided to involve Minerva and Albus' portrait and they moved into the headmaster's main office where the portrait sat listening intently for several minutes.

"It's a very strange problem, indeed," Albus mused.

"It's intolerable," Severus remarked.

"I believe..." the former headmaster began, slowly, "That there's only one possible explanation," Albus said.

"And what is that?"

"That there is nothing wrong with you, Severus," he replied.

"There's clearly something..."

"Nothing that you cannot learn to control," the portrait told him firmly.

"I cannot control exploding lamps, flooding water glasses and books intent on bludgeoning me to death!"

"Yes, my boy, you can. The only explanation that fits is this. The only thing that's changed in you is that the Dark Mark is gone. You've lived with it for over twenty years and it was deeply bound to you, removing it must have an effect on you and your magic."

"You mean...my magic is uncontrollable every time I use it?"

"Not quite. Think about what went wrong with every spell. The lamps exploded with too much light. They cleaned themselves to pieces. The glass flooded. Not one book but hundreds came at your command. The spells didn't go wrong, they were overpowered. Your magic is coming back to you but it's stronger than before. The usual amount of magic you would use for each spell simply doesn't fit anymore, there's too much of it and the spell simply continues."

"Someone's magic doesn't just increase so dramatically..." Minerva shook her head.

"Well, the Dark Mark was a parasite that latched onto him when he was still young. A Wizard's magic doesn't mature until about 18 and the Mark was deeply bound to your magic just before that. Now that it's gone I think that Severus' magic has matured so rapidly that it's stronger and it's confused."

"Belated magical puberty, Albus?" Severus stated, dryly, "That's your explanation?"

"Well...when you word it quite like that..." Albus chuckled, "It does sound rather..."

"Ridiculous?"

"Odd. But I have no other explanation. You are a remarkably powerful wizard, Severus, the fact that you are stronger without the Mark strikes me as far more likely than a sudden magical mismatch between you and your wand or instant amnesia on your part."

Severus sighed and sat down in his desk chair. "Then...what am I to do? I can't even cast a summoning charm like this," he said.

"For the moment I suggest patience. Wait a while before you cast any more spells to allow your magic time to stabilise and then...be gentle. Cast small spells and re learn how much is required for each one."

"How much time?"

"I'm not exactly sure, there's not really a precedent for this that I'm aware of. Perhaps some research would be best. But for now, perhaps a month," Albus said.

"A month without magic," Severus said in disbelief.

"You survived for twenty years with everyone thinking the worst of you and expecting no reward, my dear boy, I'm quite certain your patience is up to the task."

Severus sighed and pursed his lip while Albus, as always, simply smiled at him. Sometimes he really had to wonder if the old man didn't just enjoy watching him suffer.

A week later, Severus was sure this was some kind of punishment. All he'd been trying to do was brew a simple bruise balm, nothing strenuous at all, but the potion had exploded. When brewing potions, magic was necessary otherwise muggles would be potion making left, right and centre. A wizard didn't usually notice the magic pouring from them and into the potion but as a potions master, Severus did. He thought he would be able to control it. But apparently not. The bruise balm soon oozed from the cauldron and began to take over the entire room.

He ran from the lab and bolted the door behind him, coughing and cursing and he reached for his wand only to pause and grumble again. He grimaced and called for one of the house elves to summon Minerva.

"What happened this time, Severus?" she asked.

"The room is saturated...with bruise balm," he admitted.

"How on earth..."

"Just...vanish it...if you would be so kind," Severus hissed.

"Things will improve," Minerva told him kindly with a hand on his shoulder.

She opened the door and was left aghast at the sight of the mountain of bruise balm that had taken over the room. It was a huge, pinkish, squelching mountain. It took a moment for it all to vanish and for her to clear the room of the destruction.

That evening as they sat in Severus private quarters, sipping from a fine tea and talking, Severus dropped his tea cup and buried a hand in his hair, clutching at his head with a gasp of surprise.

"Severus?" Minerva said, gazing over at him. "What is it?" she asked.

"Just...stop thinking," he demanded, grimacing.

"If only it were so easy," Minerva replied.

"Why on earth are you thinking about Quidditch?" Severus hissed.

"I like Quiditch," she shrugged, "And it's really a perfect day for it."

"And you!" Severus glared at Remus. "Stop thinking or I'll hex you and damn the consequences," he said.

"But I..."

"I'd rather endure the torture curse again than see images of you and your wife! Get out!"

"Err...right, yes, sorry, I'll just...right then," Remus flushed and tossed aside his newspaper as he all but fled from the room.

"Legillimency?" Minerva inferred, sadly. She walked over him and with a silent wave of her hand, she fixed the broken tea cup and vanished the slipped remains of the tea. "I thought you had excellent control," she remarked.

"I can control nothing like this," he grimaced, "And Legillimency was never my strong suit. Occlumency is."

"Well, it seems like everything else, it too is out of control," Poppy said.

"None of that will work," he said, answering her thoughts before she even had the chance to voice them. "My mind will still be active if you drug me, perhaps even more so because I'll have even less control. And you know as well as I do that calming draughts have little effect on me anymore."

"I see," the matron sighed.

"Why do you seem so thrilled at the prospect of rendering me unconscious?" Severus turned to Minerva.

"Well, would it work?" his deputy asked.

"Of course not," he replied. He sat back in his chair and let out a shaky breath.

"This is one side effect I wasn't expecting," Poppy remarked.

"Nor I. Fortunately, I know a solution," he said.

The headmaster stood shakily and made his way over to a small table across the room. On it, rested a fairly modern record player, as opposed to the ancient gramophone used for balls in the great hall, and beneath it was a small cabinet full of battered records. He picked one at random and turned up the volume as loud as it would go.

The music which followed, Minerva would swear gave her a heart attack. Most people raised in the wizarding world as she and Poppy had been, were not at all familiar with muggle music. Most tended to be raised with more classical music since the wizarding world was slow to catch up with muggle ideas and technologies. However, as a half blood, Severus could understand both having been raised more as a muggle in his early years. And he could safely say that wizarding music was subpar in comparison.

The first song that blasted out was perfect for what he needed. It was loud. He needed a distraction and this was perfect.

"Good gracious, what on earth is that?" Minerva asked, covering her ears in shock.

"Music," he replied and she scoffed.

"Black Sabbath?" Poppy read after picking up the album sleeve.

"What on earth is a black sabbath?" Minerva questioned.

"This is," he replied, smugly. He sat back down, smiling both at their expressions and at the fact that his old trick was working. Loud obnoxious music really did work wonders when he needed to stop thinking. It was far easier to focus on the music and the lyrics than it was to hear their mental voices screaming their concern in his head.

"Are we under attack?!" Phineas' portrait shouted out from the headmasters' office. The music was so loud the portraits could hear it in the next room and several had left their portraits for a much more quiet setting. They were no strangers to Severus taste for loud music in the last few years but they'd never heard it this loud before.

"No, Phineas, it's music!" Albus shouted back.

"What?!" the former Headmaster cried.

"It's Severus' muggle music!" Albus tried again.

"Muggles?! Muggles are attacking?! Well, we'll show them!" Phineas stormed from his portrait, smugly.

"Oh, dear," Albus sighed.

"I quite like it," Dilys said, dancing with Everard.

After weeks of restraining his magic, Severus began with small spells as Albus had suggested and eventually and with much concentration, he was able to use magic without such destructive consequences. However, Albus had also been right in the sense that he needed far more effort to control the spells, even simple ones because otherwise he'd be back to being bludgeoned by books or flooded from a glass of water. Suffice to say that 'all's well that ends well', but it was an incident in his life he'd rather like to forget.

Chapter 63: 27th September 2019

A Slytherin in Need

27th September 2019

WARNING: Topic is child abuse

By now, to everyone's very great surprise Albus Severus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy were the best of friends. They were inseparable. Never was one seen without the other. Which was all the more extraordinary when one considered that just under a year ago they were at each other's throats.

They also had another friend, a Slytherin in their year named Caspian Jacobs. He was a clever enough boy with sharp blue eyes, unruly brown hair and an uncanny knack for Transfiguration. He was a half blood with a muggle father and a magical mother, neither of which had much money so his books and his clothes were second hand though it was disguised fairly well. He was also a very talented Quidditch player. He played alongside Scorpius as a Beater on the Slytherin team and that was where his troubles all began.

Slytherin vs Gryffindor was always a popular match when it came to Quidditch, or, well anything really, but Quidditch especially. It was the one aspect of school life where the rivalry had never truly abated. People were injured playing the game, there was no question about it and Caspian had fallen foul of a Bludger during the match. Most unusually, he'd not been paying attention and the ball had knocked him clean off his broom, shattering the magical thing to pieces as well as the bones in his arm in the process.

Naturally, before he could fall to the ground, the headmaster had floated the boy down gently and Madam Pomfrey had mended the bones in his arm fairly quickly. But, as any good matron, she'd insisted on bringing him to the hospital wing to check that he was 'fighting fit', as she said.

So far in his Hogwarts career, Capsian been extremely fortunate that he'd never been hurt badly enough to warrant a medical check up and he tended to avoid the hospital wing like the plague and now, Poppy Pomfrey knew why.

"I know what those scars are, Severus," Poppy whispered. She didn't strictly speaking need to whisper as Severus had already cast his signature Muflatio around them, but she spoke quietly nonetheless. "And so do you," she added.

"Why did you not tell me sooner?" he asked.

"I didn't know. He's never been hurt before," Poppy replied. "I never..." she started to say but stopped when two out of breath Slytherins arrived at the door to the hospital wing.

"Professor," Albus Severus panted, still wearing his Quidditch uniform. "Is Caspian okay?" he asked.

"His arm is fine," Severus told his godson, evasively.

"So...he can come to class?" Scorpius asked.

"No," the headmaster said.

"But he's fine, isn't he?" Albus Severus asked, confused. "I thought you fixed his arm," he said.

"Never you mind, young man," Poppy said, "Mr. Jacobs needs to stay here for the time being and you both need to go back to class."

"But..." Scorpius protested.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy," she glared at him.

"Can't we at least just..."

"No," Severus snapped, and they both flinched, "Go to class. Now."

"...Yes, uncle Sev," they reluctantly nodded and scurried away.

"Those boys adore you," Poppy chuckled.

"I've no idea why," he replied. "Now...what do you suggest?" he asked, gesturing back to the bed in which Caspian sat. The boy was listlessly gazing out of a window, turned away from them.

"Well...he's unfortunately not the first student with this particular...problem...that I've seen. He hid it remarkably well."

"They usually do."

"Yes. I suggest that...you handle this one," Poppy said, placing an encouraging hand on his forearm. "The boy said...well, that is I asked him and he...implied that his father..." she said and she really didn't need to say more.

"...I see," Severus sighed. "Fine," he relented and made his way over to the silent Slytherin while Poppy left and closed the door behind her, leaving them alone.

"You played well today," Severus said after a moment. "You and Mr. Malfoy had the Gryffindor Beaters on the run. Minerva's worried that she's going to lose the season," he added.

"...Please...don't take me away, sir," Caspian exclaimed suddenly. He'd spun around so quickly that Severus was worried he'd given himself whiplash.

"Away from where?"

"Home, sir," the boy answered, "Please don't tell anyone. They'll take me away and..."

"You'd rather stay with a father who..."

"He doesn't mean to he just..."

"Gets angry?" Severus finished for him and the boy sighed.

"Sometimes. But he's a good person, really, sir!"

"You're not usually so distracted out there. What happened?" Severus asked.

"I erm..."

"Were you injured?" the headmaster inferred, "Besides the Bludger?"

"Erm..."

"I can run a medical check of my own or I can ask Madam Pomfrey to tell me the results of her earlier check. Either way, I will find out."

"...A medical check...tells you things like that?"

"It does," Severus answered.

"Oh...I wasn't sure...I mean...I didn't really know much about..." Caspian stammered.

"So you avoided the hospital wing for three years just to be safe."

"Yeah...I mean...yes, sir," the boy sighed, "I don't know much about...healing magic. Neither does mum."

"Were you injured in any way before the match today?" Severus reiterated.

"...Erm...my shoulder...sir. Dad...well, he..."

"Yes?"

"It was my fault, really. He didn't mean to do it..."

"What did he do?"

"He erm...he might've...well, it was an accident..."

"What did your father do?"

"...Pushed me," Caspian muttered, looking down at the bedsheets which were twisted in his fingers now.

"Where?"

"...Down the stairs," the boy said, his eyes watering a little now.

"When?"

"...The day before school started," he sniffed.

"Almost a month ago," Severus remarked and the boy nodded. "You hid it well," he said.

"Mum gave me...a...a potion...she said it'd make it hurt less...but I ran out. It didn't make it go away but...it didn't really hurt much."

"Your mother is a potioneer?"

"Erm...no...I don't think so. But she always makes...things and she knows a lot," Capsian protested.

"But no healing magic?"

"...Not really."

"Your father didn't just push you down the stairs, did he?" Severus asked, "Poppy healed marks on your back. You might as well tell me about them."

"They were just...I got into a fight with some other kids in the street. They're...nothing," Caspian said, frantically.

"Muggle children don't tend to attack others with the brass end of a belt," Severus told him.

"I..." Caspian stared at him.

"Muggle adults, however are...resourceful," the headmaster said.

"It was just...he didn't...I...just fell...I fell and..."

"You fell onto a belt? Repeatedly?" Severus raised an obviously sceptical eyebrow at him. "I myself was similarly clumsy in my youth," he added quietly and the boy stared up at him in shock.

"But you..."

"I trust you'll keep that to yourself."

"...Of course...sir," Caspian said, still stunned.

The headmaster walked over to one of the windows and stared out of it listlessly for a moment. "I can't simply do nothing," he remarked after a moment.

"B...but..."

"I'll write to your mother, discreetly," Severus said, "Or...better yet, you can."

"But if...if dad..."

"I said 'discreetly', boy," the man sighed, "Your father won't know."

"Oh, right but..."

"If you're about to defend the man, don't. Not to me. Stop lying to yourself. You're not stupid, you know this isn't right."

"...No, sir," the boy admitted, sadly as silent tears fell from his eyes. "I just...I don't know why he hates me so much...me or mum," he sniffed.

Silently, the headmaster conjured a simple handkerchief and handed it to the boy. He'd never be any good at dealing with crying children and he felt ridiculously uncomfortable. He'd always heard people say that sometimes, simply having someone close by was a great comfort, so he sat beside the boy on the hospital bed as the child wiped his eyes on the handkerchief.

"Unfortunately, I don't have an answer for you. You may never find one. But I can at least...try to be of some assistance," Severus said.

"Thanks, sir," Caspian sniffed.

For a moment, it appeared as though the boy had managed to stop crying but then he looked up at the headmaster and for some reason, he started crying in earnest again. Then, most surprisingly of all, the boy threw his arms around Severus and cried into his robe, his hands clutching at the fabric as though he was afraid to let go again.

Severus blinked in astonishment, too stunned to move as he listened to the boy weep and part of him wondered just how in the name of sanity anyone, even a child as upset as this, could see him as a figure of comfort. It made absolutely no sense, but he was the only other person in the room, surely that was why. Had Poppy been there, then the boy would've turned to cry on her robes instead. That would make a lot more sense to him.

However, it wasn't Poppy's robes currently being cried upon, it was his. And having once been in a similar situation with an oaf of a father himself, he could at least understand how relieved it would've made him feel had someone offered to help him, even if that person was a former Death Eater.

The headmaster raised an uncertain hand and placed it on Caspian's shoulder, attempting to provide some comfort to the poor boy as he cried.

It was a long time before Poppy returned and by then, Caspian's tears had stopped and he was embarrassed that he'd been crying all over the headmaster.

That evening, the atmosphere in the staff room was as thick as gone off pumpkin juice. Severus was sat by the fire, glaring into it and with one hand, he held a goblet of fire whiskey. It was actually very rare to see the man in such a foul mood these days. It wasn't to say that he'd turned into his predecessor with warm smiles and welcoming eyes, far from it, but he was slightly more approachable and personable. This though, was the Severus they all remembered from the war. It was as though a tangible, dark aura was emanating from him and it felt cold in the room even though the fire was burning right next to him.

"Severus?" Minerva chanced, "Are you alright?"

Beside her, Professor Harry Potter furrowed his brow and stared at the headmaster.

"Go away," Severus replied, tersely.

"Don't start that game with me. If you wanted to be alone, you'd be brooding in your tower," she rolled her eyes. "Did the portraits kick you out?" she joked.

"Hmmm," he scoffed, clearly not amused.

She stared at him in disbelief and rolled her eyes. She then sat down in a chair opposite him and helping herself to a goblet of whiskey. "How is young Caspian Jacobs? He wasn't in my class this afternoon," she remarked and then poured Harry a goblet as well which then floated over to him.

"What's Poppy told you?" Severus asked them, knowingly.

"Enough," Harry replied, sadly.

"Nothing ever changes," he mumbled, draining his goblet in one gulp. "We should've seen it," he added.

"We can't..."

"I should've seen it," he corrected himself, angrily.

"It's an awful situation, Severus," Minerva said, "But we have hundreds of students and there was no indication of anything untoward happening to the lad. This isn't your fault," she told him, "It's his father's. The brute. But at least we can help the poor boy now."

"How?" Severus asked, quietly. "The boy wants to stay with that 'brute' but when I was his age all I wanted to do was kill my own father. I even made a poison in my sixth year and smuggled it home with me only to find out the bastard had died before I could use it," he muttered. "I should've seen it," he said.

For a moment, Minerva and Harry shared an uneasy glance. It was much easier now that years had passed, to forget that Severus was such a dangerous man. By the man's own addition, he had committed many crimes in his lifetime, murder least of all among them.

"You're not omnipotent," Minerva told him after a moment. "Are you going to write to his mother?" she asked.

"And say what exactly? Everything I have to say has probably already crossed her mind and yet she's still done nothing."

"She must have her reasons," Harry said and Severus scoffed quietly.

"I...admittedly don't have much experience in dealing with these matters," Minerva said.

"No, because most abused children end up in Slytherin," Severus told her. "Most of them," he said glancing at Harry for a second. "So I dealt with them," he muttered.

"How?"

"Depends on the circumstances," he shrugged. "During the war, there wasn't much I could actually do beyond teach them to survive. But I suppose they'll need more than that now."

"We don't have any kind of social services, do we?" Harry asked him.

"Not that I know of," he answered, "But the muggle authorities might get involved anyway; the boy's a half blood. If they find out about it."

"The poor boy," Minerva said, not knowing what to say since she had no idea what 'social services' was.

Chapter 64: 19th January 2005

Interrogation

19th January 2005

WARNING: Scenes of torture and descriptions of murder.

When Severus had been a young man, barely seventeen, on the very same night he took the Dark Mark, he'd seen his first Death Eater raid. They'd made sure that it was a brutal one to welcome him. It was the first time he'd killed. *1

In his defence, he knew that if he hadn't killed, then he himself would've been killed for disappointing the Dark Lord. Every new initiate was given the same task; murder. On the other hand, no one had forced him to join the Death Eaters in the first place. He knew he'd be expected to kill and he'd done so, initially without hesitation.

Severus hadn't expected to feel guilty about it after the fact. He'd imagined killing his father or James Potter so many times it had genuinely surprised him that when the raid was over, the he was physically sick with what he'd done. In just one night, he alone had murdered six muggles using the killing curse, tortured another two with Sectumsempra; a spell which the Dark Lord had been impressed with, and stood by as many more had died. After all, what did it matter? They were just muggles. They were as useless and as cruel as his father and just as unforgiving as Lily, weren't they?

Over the years, it had become easier to ignore the sickening feeling whenever he attended the raids but he'd frequently found various excuses to avoid going, if at all possible, but at times it was unavoidable. It wasn't until he defected that he actually counted the number of people who'd died at either his wand or by his potions. It was quite a fair few for such a short space of time. Even now, he'd still find himself marred by guilt as he remembered their faces. He'd never known their names in most cases which probably should have made it easier, but in fact it made it much worse.

Only Albus had known just how far he'd gone and the old man had never told anyone.

He found it best not to think about it, but that wasn't easy. At least when he'd been a spy, he'd had so many things to worry about he simply didn't have the time, but now as a headmaster, he had an abundance of time to think. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing at times like this.

The Neo Death Eaters raids were leaving an increasing number of dead muggles behind and the Aurors were extremely worried. In fact, they'd been worried for years now, but it was only recently that their 'raids' began to leave a trail of bodies in their wake. The Head of the Auror Office, Harry Potter, was particularly concerned, so much so that one morning, he found himself in his office with a stoic Severus Snape and a grandiose Lucius Malfoy sitting across from him.

"Presumably, there's nothing more either of us can tell you that your department hasn't already learned," Severus said. "At least, I would hope that was the case however little I think of Aurors in general," he added, dryly.

"Yes...but," Harry sighed, "Well...you have more...you'd have a different...a different view on what..."

"We might see something they missed because we are Death Eaters and these crimes were done by people who think that they are Death Eaters," the headmaster summarised for him.

"No...I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything..."

"Spare me," Severus rolled his eyes. "How many died this time?" he asked.

"Hasn't the Daily Prophet..."

"I don't read it."

"Ah. Well...ten people this time. That we know of," Harry answered.

"There's something else...something you've not told us," Lucius remarked.

Despite the man's 'hardships' he looked as pompous as Harry remembered from his childhood. He was leaning a hand on his serpent headed cane like someone out of a royalist painting and with his other hand he was intermittently examining his manicured nails and sneering at the silver cuff on his wrist which still restricted his magic.

"Yes," Harry sighed.

"Well?" Severus prompted.

"On their arms...they all had a wound...where the Dark Mark would be. We think they're trying to recreate it."

"That's not possible," Lucius dismissed Harry's worried words seemingly very easily with a wave of his hand. "Only the Dark Lord knew the incantation and he never told anyone. Not either of us...not even Bellatrix," he said.

"Which makes it even more convincing that they're trying to experiment with it. And it's killing people," Harry replied.

Lucius and Severus exchanged a silent glance and for a moment, Harry had to wonder if they were communicating non verbally.

"If that's indeed what they're doing," the blonde wizard said, "Then you're in even more trouble than you can imagine."

"How do you mean?" Harry asked, feeling a little insulted.

"The Mark latches on to a persons' magic to sustain itself. If the one being branded has no magic for it to survive from, then it's perfectly logical for them to die. The Dark Mark is an extremely volatile thing," Lucius said.

"The Dark Lord branded muggles before," Severus continued, "They never survived."

"It was done for entertainment," the blonde said. "And to prove that they were weak," he added.

"And since muggles are dying with this burn on their arm..they might've already re-created the Mark," Harry inferred, "And this is their way of showing it,"

"It's...possible," Severus said after a moments' thought.

"Then it's worse than I thought," the Auror sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Exactly," Lucius nodded, smugly. "Who's leading them? They must be quite skilled at Dark Magic. Anyone we know?"

"We...don't know their name, not their real one anyway," Harry admitted, "All we have is an alias."

"What's the alias?" Severus asked.

"Abaddon," he answered.

"And how do you know that it's an alias?"

"We didn't think it was, at first. But someone in the department mentioned that's it's a name from the bible; it's a place of destruction and death apparently. So, whoever this person is, they picked something symbolic."

"Quite clever," Lucius admitted.

"We have one of his...followers...we've tried interrogating him but he's not given us much to go on."

"How did you interrogate him? I assure you, asking nicely won't be enough," the blonde wizard said and Severus rolled his eyes. "I'd do it for you, but of course..." he held up his wrist and shook the bracelet. "Ah, Severus, you could show them how it's done. You'll have the fool spilling his deepest darkest secrets in a matter of seconds, won't you? Or are you out of practice? You used to be very good at it."

"That won't be necessary," Harry said, quickly. "But I take it you've never heard the name before?" he asked.

"No," Severus answered.

"And it can't be a Death Eater," Harry said, "You two are the only ones left who had the Mark."

"And it's certainly not me," Lucius drawled, bemoaning the loss of his magic once more. "So, Severus, what's your alibi?" he mocked.

"It's not enough I'm forced to watch over you like an infant, I've a castle full of adolescents to babysit, a seat on the Wizengamot to answer to and a reputation as a master potioneer to keep up? You think I could possibly find the time to impersonate the Dark Lord?" Severus retorted and his friend snorted elegantly.

"Fair enough," Lucius shrugged, clearly amused. "But while we're here, we may as well interrogate this prisoner of yours," he said, "At least let us have a little fun. How long has he been here? By your own admission, you've gotten nothing useful from him. In five minutes we could discover more than you ever could in a lifetime," the blond pet taunted him.

"And how would you do that?" Severus asked his friend.

"Well, I meant you, of course. I'll watch. I'll be...moral support."

"No."

"Oh, come on, you used to enjoy being the Dark Lord's interrogator. He knew you were the best Legillimens among us..."

"That was a long time ago. And it was hardly my job in the ranks."

"Maybe not officially, but..."

"And how many times do I have to say it? I am an Occlumens. Occlumency is my specialty."

"Well, the Dark Lord never took any notice, so why should I? And you always got the job done."

"I didn't ask you here to do this," Harry interrupted them. "I only wanted to ask..."

"Subtext, you stupid Gryffindor, we Slytherins are well versed in it. You didn't want to outright ask, but even you have to admit, you've failed so far. And who's to say that more oh so precious muggles won't die as a result of your incompetence."

"Lucius, learn to shut your pompous mouth won't you?" Severus sighed. "I'm practically your gaoler. You can't just volunteer me for work. If anything, it should be the reverse."

"Semantics," Lucius dismissed.

"I could have you cleaning the castle bathrooms for a month," Severus threatened.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," the headmaster threatened.

"Well, it wouldn't earn the Dark Lord's respect, but it's a start I suppose," Lucius shrugged. "You always did a better job of it when you were angry at something. Potter, do you have a stick? Poke him with it. Throw a few hexes at him. You won't do any damage, mind but it'll annoy him. Make him angry. From what I've heard, you were good at that as a child."

"You're doing a damn fine job of it by yourself," Severus grimaced.

As always, Harry could only stare at the odd conversation between two of the most notorious dark wizards he'd ever met, bantering and bickering almost like children. No matter how many times he saw it, he just couldn't understand it. Whatever circumstances had formed their friendship and allowed it to remain through two wizarding wars were clearly beyond his understanding, and knowing he'd never be given an explanation, he didn't bother to question it.

"I'm not asking you to do this," Harry told the headmaster. "I won't deny...it'd help. And I need all the help I can get. These people killed my predecessor...they're good and they're getting better. But, no, you're not an Auror. I am. I'll handle it."

"You'll interrogate him?" Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Haven't you already tried that?"

"Not me personally. Not my department. But I'm going to have to step in."

"You couldn't frighten one of my prize peacocks and they're about a daft as they come."

"I frightened Voldemort enough," Harry shot back and Severus gave a small smirk at the indignation on Lucius' face.

"Hmmm," Lucius harrumphed, childishly and Severus let out a quiet chuckle.

"This prisoner of yours," the headmaster said after a minute, "He's in Azkaban, I assume?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"What's his name?"

"Morgan Hyde."

"Doesn't sound at all familiar," Lucius remarked, "Does it?"

"No," Severus replied.

"Why don't we pay Mr. Morgan Hyde a visit, hmm? Just two Death Eaters curious about the competition, nothing wrong with that," the blonde said.

"Uh huh," Harry mumbled, dryly before he could stop himself.

"Unless of course you don't think you have it in you anymore. I understand, being trapped in that school probably hasn't helped and if their Ministry interrogators couldn't handle this then..."

"...Fine," the headmaster relented, surprisingly. Lucius childish taunting aside, it wasn't simply the only reason why he folded so easily. He, like everyone else, was concerned about the Neo Death Eaters. Kingsley had called several Order meetings in the hopes of getting ahead of them but so far, they'd been elusive. Here they ad a chance to learn some valuable information and truthfully, Severus knew he'd been a good interrogator for the Dark Lord. It wasn't particularly well known after he'd become a spy as that had been his main 'task' but before that and even during it, he'd been forced to act as an interrogator. So it wasn't an unknown task to him. He didn't like it, but it had been necessary and now, it was again.

At first glance, Severus was as emotionless as ever, but his eyes were dark and that glare was reminiscent of the one Harry remembered from his Potions classes when Snape was at his most vitriolic. The young Auror knew that it was a terrible idea to have the dark wizard interrogate a prisoner, but really what other choice did he have? He himself was no interrogator and everyone else had failed. He needed information and there was no other prisoner to get it from. What better way than a powerful Legillimens. Despite Snape's admission that his talents were based more in Occlumency, both skills were incredibly rare and the only other Legillimens who had tried had failed. Apparently, their prisoner had some knowledge of Occlumency and therefore, who better to interrogate him than the country's best Occlumens?

So, now Harry was standing in Azkaban prison with the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt beside him as the magically locked door to the cell was opened by a guard. One of Kingsely's many changes to the prison had been to introduce human guards and leave the punishment to the demetors. It was a small change but one had had been incredibly difficult to implement. After all, wizards were quite old fashioned and there was no such thing as 'human rights' for prisoners.

"Whose idea was this?" Kingsley asked as the entered the room. It was a small room with roughly hewn stone walls and it was divided in half by a thick iron gate, the cell and the prisoner on one side and them on the other.

"Mine. You can express your eternal gratitude afterwards," Lucius said, smugly. "This place is just as charming as ever," he noted after a brief look around.

The same, extremely bored looking guard now unlocked the door to the cell itself and then left them to it. "He's all yours," he said, nonchalantly.

"Well, have at it, Severus," Lucius said to his friend who, as always glared back at him.

"Professor..." Harry began but the headmaster had already wrenched open the iron gate and then slammed it closed behind him.

Severus tapped his wand against it, locking it magically and then he took slow, predatory steps towards the prisoner. The man was slouched against the wall, chained to it like all Azkaban prisoners and his clothes were ragged, dirty and torn. He looked relatively young and he raised his head a little to see who his visitor was.

As he did so, he was suddenly and non-verbally, raised up in the air so that he was eye level with Snape. His chains rattled loudly as he moved and then the prisoner sneered.

"Snape...you traitor," he said in a gravelly voice.

"How flattering. He knows who you are," Lucius drawled.

"Whatever you're after," the prisoner hissed, "Whatever you want...I'm saying nothing. Not a damn thing."

Severus took a step closer to him and pointed his wand, threateningly. "We'll see," he said with a sneer and the man swallowed, nervously.

Staring into the eyes of the shackled prisoner, if you didn't know that the headmaster was using Legillimency, it'd be easy to simply think they were just having a childish staring match. For about a minute, there was only silence, broken only by the occasional rattle of the chains or an odd dripping noise of water from the roof landing on the floor as neither man in the cell moved at all. Until the prisoner began to to utter pitiful moans and groans and tried to move but found himself paralysed. Then, soon after, he began to scream. Screaming prisoners in Azkaban was by no means a new occurrence so if anyone else heard, they didn't care.

"Stop...get out of my head!" the prisoner cried, "Get out!"

"Then tell me what you know," Severus demanded and wordlessly forced the prisoner back to slam against the stone wall.

"He'll kill me!" he exclaimed, wincing from the force of hitting the wall.

"So will I. At least I'll do it painlessly."

"No!"

After that, the screaming grew louder and Harry furrowed his brow. He'd sanctioned this and he couldn't help but feel guilty. Yes, the prisoner was a murderer and they needed any information he had, but Harry never wanted to harm anyone, though he had to admit it was sometimes necessary, especially in his often, violent job.

Ten minutes later, when Hyde had finally screamed himself hoarse, he fell silent as his head lolled forwards and then he was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. He landed in a heap and scurried over to the corner, as far away from Snape as he could get.

Whatever the headmaster had done had clearly changed the man. He'd gone from complete and utter defiance to a snivelling, cowering mess in a quarter of an hour. It was a shocking sight. Harry couldn't help but wonder if that had been similar to what had happened to Neville's parents.

"Well," the headmaster sneered down at him, "Now who's the traitor?"

Severus left the man cowering in the corner of the cell and slammed the iron gate closed behind him. He then conjured a small glass vial in his left hand, preceded to gently place the tip of his ebony wand to his temple and extracted the memories which he then directed into the vial. Wordlessly, a cork stopper sealed it when he was done and he handed the vial to Harry.

"Do something useful with those," he said and Harry nodded.

"Thank you," the Auror said. He found it difficult to look Snape in the eyes because those dark eyes were so terrifying at the moment. Not because of what he'd just seen the man do, but because they were so devoid of...well...anything. The headmaster had tortured a man for information and left him a nervous wreck and was now Occluding away whatever he felt behind an impenetrable wall. Perhaps it was the only way to survive doing such horrid things.

"Don't thank me for that," Severus grumbled.

"Well done, Severus," Lucius grinned at him on the clapped him on the back. "You know, I really was beginning to worry you'd gone soft, but you've proven me wrong. I suppose I owe Narcissa a new emerald necklace now. We made a bet you know, if I could prove her wrong..."

Severus then turned on his friend with a dark glare and flicked his wand at him, slamming him back into the stone wall with a painful sounding 'thump.' He forced the end of his wand into Lucius' jugular and paralysed the man.

"Don't ever," Severus said, carefully slowly each syllable for emphasis. "Hire me out like I'm one of your servants for your own amusement again. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly," Lucius replied. He didn't look at all threatened, in fact he looked bored. "Now move your wand and let me go; you've made your point," he said.

Severus remained unmoving for a moment as he loomed over the powerless, blonde wizard, but after a moment, he relented. He took a step back and put his wand up his sleeve again.

Lucius dusted off the shoulders of his cloak with a huff and ran a hand over his platinum hair. "Oh, don't act so sanctimonious, it really doesn't suit you," Lucius rolled his eyes, "You enjoyed every minute of that. And so did I. Besides, you did what the Aurors couldn't. Surely that counts for something. Now, shall we do lunch? Draco's been telling me of a delightful little place in Venice and he says I simply must..."

"I'm not taking you on holiday," Severus snapped.

"London then," Lucius shrugged, "I've gotten quite used to The Criterion. It still amazes me that it's owned by muggles. We'll have to change, of course," he said, gesturing to their wizarding robes. *2

Severus pursed his lip and glared daggers at the man for a moment before he sighed and replied, "You're paying."

"Obviously," Lucius said, haughtily.

"You owe me at least a dozen dinners for this."

"Oh, at least," the blonde nodded, enthusiastically. "Lead on, old friend," he gestured to the door with his cane. When Severus didn't move an inch the blonde rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. "I know, I know, you'll make me suffer for this and I'd expect nothing less, but you'll thank me one day," he said.

"Not bloody likely," Severus replied and stormed off. Lucius followed him happily.

"And I used to think Dumbledore was odd. Merlin rest his soul," Kingsley remarked and Harry scoffed. "I'll have a Pensieve sent to your office. We should see these as soon as possible," the Minister said.

*1 I've read a few theories that say that because Severus asked Albus about his 'soul' when he was told to kill Albus in Draco's place, thus saving Draco's soul from the damage that murder would do to it, that Severus soul was previously 'undamaged.' I personally find that difficult to believe considering that at first he was a loyal Death a Eater and then a spy who would have had to prove himself to Voldemort and I doubt that simply brewing a few potions, however lethal, would have convinced him.

*2 The Criterion is a really, really, really expensive restaurant in London. I figure, if Lucius Malloy is going to eat out in a 'muggle' place, then it'd be somewhere like this.

Chapter 65: 9th January 2004

An Idea

9th January 2004

Prequel for chapter 53

It was late at night and Severus was sitting in his living room at Prince Manor in front of the fire. It was his forty fourth birthday and he'd already celebrated it, or at least as much as he'd allow himself to, at the Burrow where Molly had outdone herself. He'd been given so many gifts, as well as another Weasley jumper and been given more food than he'd ever need in several lifetimes. Though he did actually enjoy their company, it was best in small doses he found, so afterwards he was exhausted.

Severus had returned home to find find all three of the Malfoy's waiting for him with their own, much more subdued celebrations. There were tasteful garlands strung around the room and quiet, classical music playing on an old gramophone.

"Happy birthday, Severus," Lucius announced as he handed a large green box to his friend.

"Yes," Narcissa smiled at him and kissed him lightly on the side of his face, brushing his hair away for a moment. She held out a much smaller box for him, wrapped in black ribbon and tied neatly with a bow. "Happy birthday," she added.

"I found this in the cellar," Lucius said, proudly picking up a dusty bottle of fire whiskey he'd placed on the nearby coffee table. "1788," he read the label, "It's not getting any more valuable than it already is. Seems as good a time as any, don't you think?" he said before he opened it and poured four glasses.

"Thank you, dear," Narcissa said quietly as he handed her a glass.

"Mmmm, wonderful," Lucius declared after sipping from his own goblet. He handed one to Severus and then one for his son.

"Happy birthday, Uncle Sev," Draco said and added another box to the small pile which now rested on the headmasters' lap.

"Get on with it then," Lucius flapped his hand at the pile of presents. "No time like the present and all that," he said, smirking proudly at the pun.

"Urgh," Draco rolled his eyes and his father scoffed as he drank his whiskey.

"Should I be concerned?" Severus asked his friend sarcastically as he examined the large box that Lucius had given him.

"Ordinarily perhaps," the blonde shrugged. "But I've no way of hexing it anymore, have I?" he asked, sneering at the silver bracelet on his wrist.

"I was more concerned about what's inside it. You don't have a very good track record for giving gifts," Severus replied, dryly.

"Nonsense," Lucius scoffed, "I have excellent taste."

Severus stared at him in disbelief but relented and then removed the lid from the box with trepidation and set it aside. Inside the box was a stack of expensive parchment paper bound in ribbon, a new and expensive quill pen which looked to make of real silver, ink pots and a small business card.

"Explain," Severus demanded.

"I had a brilliant idea," the blonde announced proudly. "You, my friend, are going to write a book," he said.

"What?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, several in fact."

"Why would I..."

"I've been reading though your old textbooks...yes, I know, but I was bored. You know how bored I get and reading usually bores me even more but those were quite interesting. You kept some of your more powerful spells to yourself didn't you? Shame I can't try them out really. Anyway, what I mean is; they're far more informative than the ones I bought for Draco every year."

"They really are, Uncle Sev," Draco agreed, eagerly, "Father told me to read them while you were...erm...out. I could've beat Granger in every class if you'd let me have those."

"You got yourself into enough trouble without my help. Those books are far too dangerous. I can't even remember half of the things I may have written in them," Severus said. "Besides, who'd buy a book written by an ex-Death Eater?" he scoffed.

"Well, your biography proved quite popular," Lucius grinned at him.

"A tell all gossip book is hardly the same as an academic text. And if I had my way, every copy of that damned book would be burned."

"I think it's an excellent idea," Narcissa remarked. "You can always use a different name to publish them. People do that, or so I've heard."

Severus picked up and read the small business card that had also been in the box. It was for a wizarding publisher. "Why on earth do you have a publishers' business card?" he asked Lucius.

"I know a lot of people," the man shrugged, "Influential people, of course. You might not believe it, but having a few publishers to hand has proved rather useful on occasion."

"I'll take your word for it."

"I'm even willing to help you..."

"How generous," Severus grumbled.

"Provided I can lay claim to half the royalties," Lucius finished, ignoring his friends' sarcastic remark.

"Even if I went along with this ridiculous idea...and I'm not saying that I will, why should I give you half of whatever money it makes? If any."

"It was my idea. I've provided you with parchment and a new quill and a publisher. I think I've made more than a fair contribution," Lucius said haughtily.

"Hmmm," Severus hummed quietly.

"I really do think it's a good idea, Severus," Narcissa reiterated. "You'll cause quite a scene, of course, it's not often textbooks are updated. But you don't seem to mind that as much as you used to. You've made enough changes at Hogwarts than any other headmaster ever did and that caused enough of an uproar. So...what's one more?" she asked.

"I can see it now," Lucius remarked. "Can you imagine how surprised people will be? Those books haven't been tampered with for hundreds of years. You'll cause riots," the man chuckled.

"Lucius, you need a hobby," Severus retorted.

"Yes, and this can be it. I'm offering my expertise in this little project of ours."

"Your expertise in what exactly?"

"This is the thanks I get for being a thoughtful, generous friend," Lucius lamented. "At least say you'll consider it, Severus," he said.

"Fine, I'll consider it," Severus replied, sighing and Lucius grinned.

"I can count the galleons now," the man said, eagerly.

Severus turned his attention to the small box that Narcissa had given him now and he untied the ribbon to find an exquisite pair of emerald and silver cufflinks which shone beautifully in the firelight. The inside of the jewellers' box had an elaborate company logo on it and coming from a Malfoy it had to be from the most expensive shop in the country. Even living as muggles and known criminals hadn't dulled their expensive tastes.

"I had them designed for you, they're perfectly unique," Narcissa informed him.

He was surprised to note that he actually did like them. They were understated enough to appeal to his tastes rather than theirs which was far to extravagant and gaudy in his opinion, so he appreciated the restraint she must have used in designing them.

"Rather small emeralds, aren't they, my dear?" Lucius asked, looking at the cufflinks.

"Severus wouldn't wear them if they were any larger. I bought them for him to wear, not to gather dust in a drawer," she said and then turned to Severus again. "I know you don't care for 'gaudy' jewels. You remember that signet ring we bought you? I know you dislike it. I thought I'd try again. You do like them, don't you?"

"Yes," he said, truthfully, "They're exquisite."

"Wonderful," she smiled, happily.

Draco's present turned out to be a book, an extremely old book bound in leather with intricate patterns on the cover, written in Latin.

"It's erm...a potions book. Really rare apparently. I found it in Paris. I had to trade a..." Draco stopped when his mother shot him a glare and he blushed. "Well, I hope you like it. I think it's about the only potions book you don't have in your library here. I remember you said you can read Latin...you can read it right?" he asked, nervously.

"Yes, I can read Latin," Severus told him, amused as the young man looked visibly relieved. It was a useful skill considering that magical book weren't often updated or translated. There were spells for translating the written word of course, but they were notoriously tricky and things were often lost in translation. A single error in the translation like that could prove fatal when brewing so Severus had learned Latin in order to avoid such a mistake.

"Good," Draco let out a sigh of relief.

"Hmm, I've actually been looking for this book for a few years," Severus noted, surprised as he read the title.

"Oh...well, even better," the young man smiled.

"Now," Lucius began, "We assumed you wouldn't want any food. Those...Weasley's probably force fed you enough to last a lifetime, so we exercised restraint and limited ourselves to one box of French chocolates," he said. "I hope you appreciate the effort that took," he added, dramatically.

Draco produced the box in question, a colourful and expensive looking box wrapped in tissue paper and ribbon with a gold calligraphic logo.

"Sabey?" Lucius drawled and the house elf appeared before them. "The chess set," he ordered.

The elf snapped her fingers and the Prince family chess set appeared, it was an antique about as old as the house, made of ivory and mother of pearl and the magical pieces stood eagerly, adjusting their helmets and weapons. The elf then vanished when Lucius waved a dismissive hand at her.

"When exactly did my house elf start taking orders from you?" Severus asked.

"Maybe she likes me more than you," Lucius suggested, dryly. He sat close to the chess set but of course, he didn't need to be close enough to actually move them himself; they were magical and they'd happily move themselves.

"You'll be locking me out of my own house next."

"I would, but I don't suppose the familial wards will answer to me even if I had my magic. The magic in this place is too old to be tricked," the blonde told him.

"Well, that's a relief," Severus rolled his eyes and muttered an order for one of the white pawns to move.

"Yes...speaking of old..." Lucius remarked thoughtfully as he then preceded to command one of his own darker pawns. "Forty four years, hmmm. Maybe I should be looking out for senility. It happens, you know, at your old age," the blonde wizard said.

"Need I remind you, that I am several years your junior."

"Yes, but I'm infinitely more attractive," Lucius replied, flicking his platinum hair dramatically.

"That'll hardly negate senility," Severus retorted.

"It's an excellent defence. It's the only one that counts."

"Egotist," Severus said.

"Ah, insults, a Slytherins first line of defence. You know I'm right, admit it, Severus, I'm simply stunning."

"You're the senile one, you old coot."

"At least I've escaped any grey hairs."

"I don't have any grey hairs."

"Oh, I'm sure you so, I'm looking at several of them," Lucius stated, dryly, and moved one of his chess pieces.

"Fortunately, I'm not nearly as vain as you," Severus retorted, as one of his pawns eagerly shattered one of Lucius'.

"That's as good as an admission. Cissa, what was the name of that old woman we used to know, she was grey as a ghost then she made her own spell to keep her hair coloured? She swore it took ten years off her face...she was wrong of course but the spell worked."

"Adelaide Blanche, I think you mean, dear," Narcissa answered. "Very short, always wore red, extremely wealthy. She was a duchess," she elaborated.

"Yes, that's the one."

"She told me the spell before she died."

"Ah, well you can tell Severus."

"Honestly, Severus, don't listen to a word he says," Narcissa shook her head with a small smile at their usual bickering. "He's been after that spell for years," she added.

"It won't do me much good now will it?" Lucius lamented, as always, sneering at the silver bracelet. "And it's not as though I need it," he added.

"Not yet," Severus said with a raised eyebrow.

"Why do I get the feeling that was a curse?"

"You'll wake up grey as old uncle Balthazar tomorrow, father," Draco chuckled as he opened the chocolate box.

"Better yet, bald," Severus added.

"Now that is a truly horrid thought," Lucius shook his head in horror.

"Here, uncle Sev," Draco held out the box of chocolates for Severus to take one. They were quite artistic, each one held in place by the tray and decorated with fine swirls or flowers.

After Severus took one of them, Draco walked the box over to his mother who smiled and daintily took one of the chocolates.

"Thank you, dragon," she said to him.

"Do they seem a little more blood thirsty than usual?" Lucius pondered, staring at the chess pieces who were now taunting each other with their weapons. He then chose his own chocolate and took two more for good measure, hoarding them on the arm of his chair.

"They haven't been used in a while," Severus shrugged.

"Ah," the blonde said in understanding. "Yes, of course. We haven't played for about two months. They get used to the bloodshed," he noted, "At least, these ones do."

"Evil little bas..." Draco began, amused, but stopped when his mother stared at him and he sheepishly ate a chocolate instead.

"Someone in your family must have had a particularly unusual sense of humour to charm these fellows," Lucius said to his friend.

"Or they're just old and daft," Severus retorted. "They could be as old as the house for all we know. Who knows what that kind of age does to a charmed chess set? Your set isn't that old and they were vicious little buggers even on a good day."

"Of course they are," the blonde said, proudly, "It's a Malfoy chess set. What else would you expect? Maybe I'll be able to get it back someday. I simply can't wait to see how vile they've become after being locked away in the Manor for so long without being used."

"Those pieces never liked me," Draco said.

"Because you are terrible at chess," Severus replied, "They know they're going to lose."

"Malfoy's never lose," Lucius insisted.

"Of course," Severus gave a minute smirk, "You merely find inventive ways to avoid winning."

"I just think...that chess is tedious," Draco admitted.

"The youth of today," his father lamented, "Truly shocking. You'd rather be galavanting around Paris, no doubt...though so would I."

"Before you ask; no, I cannot take you to Paris," Severus said, quickly. "It's a wonder they let him go. We'd both be thrown back into Azkaban if they found you across the Channel."

"Who says we'd be caught? Just for one night. It's your birthday, Severus."

"No," he said and Lucius pouted. "I had enough of a fight getting you out of prison, I'll not risk ruining all of my hard work because you felt like strolling down the Champs-Elysèes in the moonlight. Anyone would think you wanted to go back to Azkaban. You'll have to make do with the television. Watch the travel channel."

"It's not the same," the pure blood replied.

Draco had shown him how to work the television that Severus had brought for them. It was a fairly large one, much larger than the one he'd kept at Spinner's End, mainly because Draco had chosen it and the boy had picked the largest one in the shop. Severus had thought that Lucius trying to use a muggle television was quite possibly the most hilarious thing he'd ever seen. Narcissa had handled it with far more grace than Lucius had.

"It's that or prison," Severus shrugged.

"You drive a hard bargain," Lucius sighed.

"You'll thank me tomorrow morning when you wake up in the Manor rather than your old cell."

"Hmmm," the man hummed, watching as one of his chess pieces happily shattered one of Severus' and was applauded by his other pieces. "Looks like I'm ahead of you," he noted as his friend waved his hand slightly at the shattered pieces and they were pushed to the side of the table off the board.

"You thought that the last time and I still won," Severus replied.

"I still say that you cheated."

"You can't cheat at wizard chess."

"You'd find a way."

"Always were a sore loser," Severus smirked.

"I told you; Malfoy's don't lose," Lucius reiterated.

"The hell you don't."

Narcissa and Draco just smiled in the dim fire light, listening to them bickering like children as the game continued through the night.

A.N. As much as I love writing snarky conversations for Severus and Lucius, I do think of them as friends in my story so I think it's important I show that they do actually care and they're at each other's throats so much because they think it's funny...most of the time. They're both warped and they deserve each other lol.

Chapter 66: 21st - 24th December 1999

Stubbornness

21st - 24th December 1999

After saving both Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy, it was the early hours of the morning and Harry found that he was extremely tired. His magic was severely drained and he could barely keep his eyes open. Remus had offered to Apparate him back to the Burrow but he'd been adamant about wanting to see how the headmaster was doing first and then the young wizard had fallen asleep on a sofa by the fire in Severus' bedroom in a matter of minutes despite the fact that Remus and Poppy were still in the room with him.

"Magically exhausted," Poppy confirmed, waving her wand over him, "Fortunately it's not serious."

"Should I take him back to the Burrow?" Remus asked.

"Best not disturb him yet."

"If Severus wakes up and sees..."

"He won't. Not yet. Young Mr. Potter will be awake long before Severus is," she assured him with confidence. "Besides, you do know that Minerva has transfigured the sofa in the sitting room into a rather grand bed and she's insisted on staying there until he wakes up, don't you?"

"I...didn't know that, no."

"Well, now you do. I don't much like the thought of having two of my patients up here instead of in the hospital wing," she said, glancing over both Harry and Severus.

"Better for Severus though, surely," he said.

"Perhaps," she allowed with a shrug. "Now, you'd best be getting back to your wife. Half the castle heard young Teddy crying earlier. Quite the set of lungs on that little one," she smiled.

"Yes," Remus said, nervously, "If erm...if anything..."

"We know where to find you, yes. Goodnight, Remus," Poppy said, ushering him out of the room.

"'Night, Poppy," he smiled back and left, albeit reluctantly. The plan had been for him and Tonks to leave the castle for Christmas but neither of them could bring themselves to leave when Severus' condition had deteriorated so rapidly.

Harry finally awoke around ten o' clock in the morning to find that his glasses had been placed carefully on a small coffee table to his right and that a warm blanket had been laid over him on the comfortable sofa. The room was lit by lamps and candles as the curtains were still closed but at least the windows seemed to be open, letting in a calm breeze and magically not blowing out the candles at the same time.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter," Minerva greeted him as he ran a hand through his unruly hair. She was sitting in her usual spot by Severus bedside, reading a book with a tea tray close by. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Erm...better, professor," Harry stretched.

"Poppy tells me that you were magically exhausted. It may take some time for you to fully recover, so in the meantime do be careful for once and try not to exert yourself," she said holding out a cup of tea for him.

"Thanks, professor," he said, walking forwards to gratefully take the delicate teacup and saucer. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to fall asleep here and I..." he began to say.

"Not to worry. We thought it was best to let you sleep and what Severus doesn't know, won't hurt him...You took a great risk in doing what you did."

"I had to," Harry replied, taking a grateful sip of the warm tea. "How...erm...how's he doing?" he asked.

"He's still asleep," Minerva told him, sadly.

"But...he'll be alright, won't he?"

"We don't know. We hope so. Unfortunately only time will tell."

"He wasn't exactly grateful, was he?" Harry said, daringly, "Earlier, I mean."

Part of him knew that he wouldn't receive any thanks from the headmaster but he'd also been a little hurt by the fact that Severus had seemed so reluctant to be helped. It had shocked Harry that the man hadn't seemed to care at all about his own imminent death even with the possibility of survival being offered to him.

"Did you expect him to be?" she scoffed.

"...No," Harry admitted, "No, not really."

"I think he is...grateful...though I doubt he'll admit it. The problem is, he's also angry at us. He didn't want us to risk your life," Minerva sighed. "He gave us every excuse under the sun, you know, but it couldn't have been more obvious if he'd cast it in the sky in sixty foot letters. I am...sorry, Potter. Truly I am. I didn't want to risk your life either but..."

"Moony said it was more risky to Professor Snape than to me," Harry said.

"And it was, but I'm not exactly comfortable with the fact that we endangered you to save him and I know that he isn't..."

"I'd do it again," Harry interrupted her and she nodded.

"He's going to be very angry when he wakes up," she remarked, fondly, "He always was a terrible patient."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"And now Lucius Malfoy owes you his life as well."

"He wasn't happy about that either," Harry grimaced.

"I can imagine. You'll get even less gratitude from him than you will from Severus."

"I don't want his gratitude."

"Maybe not. But despite everything, you still saved him. It takes a brave person to do that."

"Or a stupid one," he scoffed and rubbed at his tired eyes.

"We'll go with brave, shall we?" Minerva smiled and he let out a quiet scoff.

"If you say so, professor."

"It was very brave of you, Potter," she emphasised honestly. "Molly's expecting you back at the Burrow now that you're awake. We thought it best to let you rest before travelling anywhere. You can use the fireplace over there," she said, glancing over at the huge, ornate stone fireplace at the far end of the room.

It was several days later, in the early hours of Christmas Eve in fact, when Severus woke up. It felt like a Herculean effort just to open his eyes and when he did, he found Minerva watching him and and Poppy casting charms silently.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Minerva smiled down at him. Severus scowled back at her. "Please don't look at me like that. We've been fearing the worst for days," she said.

Severus breathed in deeply before sighing and closing his eyes again, he turned away from them even with his eyes closed and felt a bone crushing melancholy overwhelm him. How could he possibly still be alive? The Dark Mark had been draining him of all strength for months, surely he had none left to recover with.

"Why?" he managed to ask in a quiet, raspy voice.

"Why what?" Minerva asked.

"Am I...still alive?" he clarified.

"Oh, Severus," the deputy head sighed and shared a tragic glance with Poppy who stood beside her. "Because you have people who care about you. People who couldn't stand the thought of watching you die," she said.

"More fool you," he muttered. He tried to roll over onto his side so that he wouldn't have to feel the weight of their stares but he stopped and hissed as he jostled his wounded, burned arm. "...The hell did you do?" he grounded out. He clutched as his forearm and after a moment, was able to open his eyes again to glare at them.

"The Mark's gone," Poppy said, "But it wasn't without cost."

"Not paid for it enough, have I?"

"It's left your forearm severely burned and immobile, not to mention the fact that you're magically and physically exhausted and I daren't give you anymore potions yet. For a while I thought we'd have to amputate your arm entirely. But I think you should regain the use of it in time, your hand as well I hope, once you've started to regain your strength. We could try Phoneenix tears but honestly I'd rather not. You know as well as I do that wounds cuased by Dark Magic don't react well to Phoenix tears."

"Best not...unless you want the privilege of finishing me off," Severus muttered.

"Honestly, Severus, it's a miracle you're still alive," Minerva said, "You barely moved for three days."

"Not quite a record for you, by any means," Poppy said, "But you'll be feeling awful for weeks."

He'd borne the Mark for twenty years and he'd regretted it for almost as long. One simple mistake in his youth had haunted him for so long that he didn't quite know how to love without it. The Mark was something he could always feel intwined with his own magic, he'd been linked to it for so long that it was an odd feeling to be suddenly free of it. Being alive was also something he hadn't expected and it brought a mixed sense of intense relief and heart wrenching sorrow. He'd had to accept the inevitability of his death, or so he'd thought and he'd made his peace with it, now he wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to do next.

"...Had worse," he muttered.

"Just a stubborn as ever," the Medi-witch rolled her eyes.

"Where's Potter?" Severus asked.

"Resting at the Burrow. He's fine," Minerva replied.

"You could've killed him," he said, "You should've let me die."

"He knew the risk and he chose to help you. He saved Lucius Malfoy as well."

"...What?"

"Just in time too, although he's still in Azkaban," Poppy said. "The Minister allows me brief visits once a day for medical attention although Merlin knows that man, prisoner or no, should be in a hospital. As much as I dislike him, I took an oath to help my patients not leave them to rot in a cell."

"He's alive?"

"Barely," she answered.

After a moment, Severus shifted and tried to lift his wounded arm but failed. It felt like his entire arm was on fire and it was impossible to move it let alone his fingers. From the elbow down it was swathed in bandages but he could no longer feel the Dark Mark. It was impossible to believe but he was finally free.

"It's gone?" he asked, quietly. "You're sure?" he felt the need to check despite the fact that he could no longer feel its presence.

"Yes," Minerva answered. "It worked. You're free."

"Although the damage may never fully heal but it will improve," Poppy told him. "I'd strongly advise not using any magic at all for at least a month. Your body can't handle it and neither can your magic. You need time to recover. Properly recover this time, not your usual cure of a dozen pain dulling potions, a bottle of fire whiskey and Merlin only knows what else. Honestly Severus...you're lucky to be alive."

"Yes...I'm ecstatic," he scoffed, "I feel about as strong as a day old Kneazle and as rough as a badger's arse."

"Charming as ever," the Medi-witch smiled.

"I'm half tempted to dismiss the pair of you," he said.

"And whatever for?" Minerva demanded.

"I told you not to risk your precious golden Gryffindors' life for mine. I told you not to meddle with magic you don't understand..."

"I suppose that's as close as we'll get to a 'thank you'," Poppy said, sarcastically to Minerva.

"Rest for now, Severus, you can be as angry as you like when you've the energy," Minerva told him. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that it doesn't quite have the same effect when you've all the strength of a day old Kneazle. I know you're angry that Harry risked his life but he chose to help you. As did we. I promise I'll listen to all the shouting and screaming and every possible curse you can possibly muster...once you've the strength."

"Yes, and I swear by Merlin I'll magically chain you to that bed if you even think about trying to move," Poppy threatened.

"You wouldn't dare," he furrowed his brow at her.

"Try me," she retorted. "I know you, Severus, you're the worst, most stubborn patient I've ever met. Honestly, sometimes I think sheer stubbornness is all that keeps you going half the time. I know almost as well as you do that you've had worse than this, but the war is over and you can allow yourself the time to heal properly. I'd strongly advise you to take it. A person can only take so much, however stubborn they are. I know you hate lying around but if you give me your word that you'll rest, I promise we'll keep the visitors to a minimum."

"And if I don't?"

"Well, Molly was most insistent on coming to see you when you woke up. I could tell her that you need the company and she can stay all day...all week," Minerva smiled. "You'll have no end of attention. And of course, even Peeves was worried about you. He's been singing new songs almost non stop an I'm sure he'd love for you to hear them," she added

"...Fine," he grumbled.

"I knew you'd see sense," the medi-witch said, smugly.

"Hmmm," Severus scoffed.

It was an odd thing to get used to now that no one, absolutely no one, seemed to be afraid of him anymore. Granted these two witches in particular had known him since he was an eleven year old boy but that hadn't stopped them from fearing the worst of him during the last year of the war. That had been the point but still, they'd well and truly hated and feared him and for good reason. Now they treated him as as one of them. Someone to be cared for rather than reviled. It wasn't exactly something he was used to and he wasn't sure that he'd ever get used to it.

Chapter 67: 25th December 1999

A Christmas Present

25th December 1999

Early that morning, Severus had hobbled his way over to his armchair by the fireplace and shortly afterwards an owl flew though his window and dropped a small package onto his lap. With bleary eyes and a tilt of his head, Severus stared at the bird.

It was only yesterday that he'd woken from a three day coma, for want of a better term, after the dark mark had been removed and he was still shaky and weak and the less said about his left arm the better, it was practically useless to him. He was still undecided if surviving once again was a blessing or a curse. Having the Mark gone was certainly a good thing, wasn't it? It had been there for so long, binding him to the dark lord that being free of it should have filled him with glee. But because it had been there for so long, he was left wondering just who he was without it. While it was true that for over a year, he was no longer Snape the Death Eater, to some anyway, he was still a dark wizard and he wasn't ashamed of the fact either. Now though he was a dark wizard of his own choosing, not because of the Mark.

The trilling of the brown barn owl brought him back to his senses and with his right hand, he took the envelope that it held from its beak.

On receiving a Christmas card from a former student, Severus didn't think that his wary response was unjustified. After all, the majority of his former students would properly relish the thought of sending him a howler...or worse. He cast several spells on the envelope before opening it and he warily eyed the small rectangular, simply wrapped present it had accompanied.

It was a tastefully designed muggle card with the usual seasons greetings splayed across the front in calligraphic gold. On the inside in a familiar handwriting it read,

'Dear Headmaster Snape,

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I hope you're recovering well and I wish you all the best.

Hermione Granger.

P.S I hope you like the book. Mr and Mrs Weasley told me that you play beautifully. I realise that until you've fully recovered, you won't really be able use it properly but I believe in being optimistic, especially at Christmas.

P.P.S Everyone has been very worried about you and when we heard that you were awake Mrs Weasley started baking you a cake. It's extensive. With five tiers. She's had to set wards to fend the boys off. Obviously they took no notice and it's left them unable to taste or smell for a few hours. Admittedly it does look and smell delicious as I've been reminding them every hour. She's planning on bringing it to the castle for you later today.'

After reading that he snorted and then curiously picked up the present, it was wrapped in Slytherin green and tied with string for the owl to carry. On opening it he found a thin book of sheet music for the piano. He flicked through it and saw that it had a wide range of songs from classical to fairly modern songs, some of which he'd never even heard of.

He had no idea why she would buy him something so thoughtful especially now that it would do her no good in gaining the approval she'd sought for years as a student, though granted when the war had worsened she'd learned that there were more important things. There weren't a great many people who'd bought him gifts over the years and this had to count as one of the most thoughtful.

"No reply, be off with you," he said to the owl which hooted at him and then flew off out the window.

Severus stared at the book thoughtfully. He'd never gotten around to bringing a piano into his rooms at Hogwarts, mainly due to the lingering fear that he'd be carted off to Azkaban at any given moment or the fact that he was likely to die from the Dark Mark. Now though, neither of those threats seemed imminent. Perhaps he should get a piano, after all he spent most of his time at the castle. The old one he kept at Spinner's end was being he'd together mostly by steel wire and stubbornness and he didn't fancy the thought of journeying to the Burrow everything he wanted to practice to use the one he'd fixed for Molly. She wouldn't mind of course, in fact she'd probably encourage it, but he wanted privacy.

From across the room, Fawkes trilled musically as though agreeing with his master's inner thoughts.

"Quiet," Severus glared back at him, "You don't get an opinion."

"Chirp," the Phoenix tilted his head.

It wasn't as though he had anything else to do really. Minerva had banned him from doing any work, going so far as to banish all of his paperwork and redirect his letters to her office and he didn't have the magical strength to counter those spells yet. Although playing the piano with one hand until his other one could function again wouldn't be quite the same, it would at least give him something to do.

"Chirp," Fawkes trilled again.

"And people call me a mind reader," the headmaster rolled his eyes at the bird.

Chapter 68: 11th April 1999

The Magical Music Box

11th April 1999

For much of his young life, the child Teddy Lupin lived at Hogwarts with his parents, however the infant quickly became infamous for his ability to be heard all the castle over when he was crying. It was usually worse when his much tried parents attempted to settle the boy down for the night. It wasn't as though they hadn't already tried everything. After a while they became sadly used to sleepless' late nights and headaches but they would have eagerly given their wand arms for a solution.

Luckily their answer arrived on the night of their child's first birthday and it required no such sacrifice from them.

Teddy had spent his first birthday at the Burrow surrounded by loving friends and family and had been given many gifts which had kept him happy and content throughout the day. Now though, like all children, when his parents attempted to put him to sleep, he started crying. Very loudly.

"Here we go again," Tonks sighed and ran a hand through her purple tinted hair.

"It's my turn, why don't you run yourself a bath," Remus suggested kindly and she beamed tiredly at him.

"Thanks," she said, giving him a light kiss on his cheek and leaving him with the crying child.

A minute after she'd left however, she returned holding, what looked to be a small round tricket box and a folded piece of parchment.

"Found this on the table," she said as her husband continued to gently rock their child to sleep.

"What is it? A present for Teddy?"

"Guess so," she shrugged and opened the small folded note and then snorted.

"What?"

"Think it's from Snape," Tonks said. "It says, 'For the love of Merlin, child, stop crying'," she laughed. She put down the note and opened the box. At once, a calming beautiful piano melody began to play and within a minute, Teddy had stopped crying and was gurgling happily in his father's arms.

The box itself was beautiful. It was small enough to fit into the palm of ones hand but it was elaborately detailed. It was made of a dark metal with silver moons and stars on it and on the lid was the sun with its rays reaching out to edge of the lid and the dark blue sky surrounded it. It was a magnificent work of art. A magical work of art. Whereas muggle music boxed needed winding, a magical one never did. It simply played its melody whenever the lid was opened and would always sound pitch perfect.

"Best present ever," Tonks sighed.

The music playing was the same soothing melody that had calmed the child when Severus had played it at the Burrow. It was 'Imagine' by John Lennon.

"Agreed," Remus smiled.

"We should've tried that sooner."

"Somehow I can't imagine Severus willingly giving his time to play this every night for Teddy."

"Guess now he doesn't have to. We can never break that thing, y'know," she smiled back at him. "Do we err...send a thank you note back, d'you think?" she wondered.

"I'll go and thank him," Remus said, "Teddy's almost out."

"Are you sure that song wasn't written by a wizard with a baby that wouldn't stop crying too? Maybe it's some kind of spell to lure kids to sleep."

"I'm fairly sure he was a muggle."

"Hmmm," Tonks hummed. "Well, when you see Snape tell him I said 'thanks'. That things' a miracle."

"Of course," he said.

Shortly after, Remus ascended the staircase to the headmasters' office and was directed to the living room just off the office by the smiling portraits. He knocked on the slightly open door before entering.

"Severus?" he called.

"What?" came the curt reply.

"Not disturbing you, am I?" the werewolf asked as he entered.

"Since when has that mattered?" Severus replied.

He was sat by the fire, reading a book with a glass of fire whiskey resting on a small table beside him.

"I just came by to say 'thank you', for the music box. It's beautiful and it had Teddy asleep in less than a minute. He loves that song. Did you play it and record it somehow? I didn't know there was a spell to that that for a music box."

"I'm afraid I've no idea what you're talking about, wolf," Severus said, dismissively and turned a page in his book.

"Ah, my mistake," Remus smiled, kindly, "But thank you anyway...from all three of us. It really was very kind of you. I've never seen anything so beautiful."

"They say people are prone to talk nonsense around the full moon but it's no where near time for that yet and surely you have enough to worry about when it comes to that. Perhaps you should be concerned for your sanity."

"Probably," he laughed quietly. "I won't disturb you Any longer, good night, Severus," he said after a moment and turned to leave.

"The child was giving me a headache every night," Severus called after him. "I did it keep him quiet. Nothing more."

"Of course," Remus said, beaming happily, "We're very grateful."

"Don't mention it. I mean it. I can very easily poison your potion whenever I feel like it, just bear that in mind," he threatened.

Of course, Remus knew better than to heed his words. For people who chose to be around Severus Snape they had to learn that actions spoke louder than words. True the man could still threaten and curse with the best of them, but his actions belied a hidden kindness, if you remembered to look past the vitriol. It was only very recently that Remus had begun to see that and he tried valiantly to always remember it.

"Consider me warned," the werewolf said, solemnly, "Goodnight, Severus," he repeated and left.

Chapter 69: 24th July 2013

Professor Hermione Granger

24th July 2013

By the time she was thirty four, she'd had three different careers. The first one after leaving school was in the Ministry of Magic defending the rights of magical creatures. The second, after becoming disillusioned with politics despite her irrefutable results, was to co-open a bookshop in Diagon Alley, that bookshop still provided her with a steady income each month and was doing very well. The third was to teach young magical children about the muggle world. It was a job that she'd enjoyed immensely and eventually, she found that it lead her back to Hogwarts.

Now, as Severus read through applications at his desk, he sighed deeply.

"I think we all must have done something terribly wrong," he announced.

"Oh, really? And what is that?" Minerva asked. She was sitting opposite him, sipping from a delicate china tea cup.

"Read it," he replied, handing her the letter.

"Only you would read it and react like that, Severus," she sighed after reading it. "This is a brilliant opportunity," she said. "Hermione Granger was and still probably is the brightest witch of her generation, the fact that she wants to teach here..."

"I already allowed the wolf to bring back Potter and Pomona was falling over her own feet to have Longbottom as her assistant last year although lord only knows why. If I bring back another student..."

"Former student," she corrected. "And both Harry and Neville came here as assistants, Miss Granger clearly states here that she's been a teacher before. She's more than capable..."

"No."

"But, Severus..."

"No."

"She's more than qualified to teach here and you know as well as I do that she could teach anything she chose. Besides, I know you write to one another, frequently."

"Hmm," he scoffed.

If asked, Severus would have a difficult task pinpointing the exact moment when receiving a letter from Hermione Granger became an expected norm of his life, let alone replying to one. It seemed that at some stage, she'd been told that he was an avid reader and played the piano, so whenever she found an interesting book or sheet music she thought he'd appreciate, she sent them to him. What followed were usually long discussions of the merits of the book or music which at some point, he found that he enjoyed.

"It's not a crime to have friends, Severus," Minerva grinned at him. "Now, you know as well as I do, that's it's either Miss. Granger or a ministry appointed official. It's your own fault, you know. You rejected all the other applicants."

"One of them swore that a television only worked because scores of witches and wizards were trapped inside of it and another said that a ball point pen was a weapon of mass destruction," Severus said, dryly. "They were idiots, they didn't know anything about muggles."

"Well, Miss. Granger does," Minerva said, smugly.

Sighing in reluctant agreement, Severus turned back to the parchment and heard Fawkes trill softly from his perch.

As she was reminded every time she saw Molly Weasley, Hermione was unmarried and childless, unlike Harry and Ginny and Neville and Luna. Her own relationship with Ron had lasted for about two years after the war before they'd agreed to mutually break it off. It had taken a while, but now, they considered themselves good friends again and eventually, Ron had married Lavender Brown and they had four children together. Hermione was a godmother to two of them and she saw them regularly. She'd be seeing the children very regularly, now, daily in fact as she was now to be working at their school for the foreseeable future. There hadn't really been an interview, just a letter informing her to arrive at the castle to discuss her employment. The headmaster's letter to her, delivered by Fawkes was as usual, dripping with sarcasm and made her smile.

'Miss Granger, why on earth you'd want to return to Hogwarts is beyond me. Unless you wish to once more plunder the library in search of books you've yet to devour. If indeed any remain. However, I am outvoted. The job is yours. My office, tomorrow, nine am. Do not be late. SS.'

Over the years she liked to think that she'd gotten to know the headmaster quite well, or at least as well as he'd allow. She wrote to him often, his replies, if there was one, were often curt and to the point. She'd started arguably at the end of her student years with a polite thank you note, then a year later she'd sent a Christmas card when he'd woken from having had the Dark Mark removed after months of debilitating torture. From then, intending to be polite only, she'd made sure to always send him a birthday and Christmas card at least. She did the same for Minerva as well but she, like the others knew that the headmaster had very few people in his life to show his such courtesies. Arguably in the years since the war that number had risen but he never made it easy.

Both she and Harry had long since taken his attitude in their stride and chosen not to allow it to push them away. Harry was on quite good terms with him now, he was working at Hogwarts and and they spent every Monday evening after classes were done, in Severus' quarters, simply talking. Much to their amusement it had taken years for the dark wizard to call Harry by his first name and he still called Hermione 'Miss Granger' despite their long years of correspondence.

She had nothing but the utmost respect for him and they discussed all sorts of subjects in their letters and indeed when they saw each other at the annual Weasley Christmas party. She admired his intelligence, had come to find his dry sense of humour astounding and even more astoundingly she found that she enjoying verbally giving as good as she got and so did Harry. That wasn't to say that Severus Snape was a friend to all; he wasn't nor did he attempt to be. But it was clear enough to those select few, that he viewed them as friends, even if they had to ignore the back handed insults or retort with their own. That was half the fun after all.

The following morning, she arrived in the headmasters' office in Hogwarts at exactly nine am and was met with a smiling Minerva and a stoic Severus Snape.

"Good morning professors," Hermione greeted them, smiling happily.

"Minerva, please," she replied, "We're colleagues after all," she added and Hermione nodded.

"It's good to be back," the younger witch said.

"Then like everyone else here, you're mad, clearly," Severus stated, dryly.

"All the best people are," she replied with a shrug, quoting one of her favourite childhood books, Alice in Wonderland.

"Well then, Alice, welcome back to Wonderland," the headmaster said and she could only stare, stunned that he'd understood her reference. "Trying to catch flies, are you?" he asked, amused.

"No," Hermione replied, finding her voice again. "Just trying to figure out...if I'm Alice, are you the Mad Hatter or the Cheshire Cat?" she asked.

"Hopefully, neither," he snorted.

"Hmmm," she mused. "For all we know, Wonderland could be some kind of warped version of Hogwarts. Lewis Carroll was rumoured to be a squib, or so I've read, he could've known about it," she said, more to herself but if course he heard it.

"Yes, I know," he replied and she was practically beaming at this point.

"Really? And you read the..."

"Yes, I read it. Now, please, save your enthusiasm for muggle literature for the students."

"I'll do my best, headmaster," she said, attempting to hide a smile.

"I can't help rather feeling as though I'm missing something here," Minerva remarked.

"It's a muggle book," Hermione answered.

"Ah, I see," she nodded. "Well, perhaps you could explain it to me over a cup of tea," Minerva suggested.

"You might need something stronger than tea," Severus said.

"It's nine in the morning, Severus," Minerva sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Tell me that after Professor Granger has finished explaining the story to you," he replied and Hermione snorted. "You can be the mad Queen of Hearts," he added, much to the confusion of his deputy and the amusement of the new Muggle Studies Professor.

Hermione spent the remainder of the day with the other professors who'd remained at the castle in the staff room but eventually, as it grew late, she and the headmaster were the only ones left. At some point in the evening someone had opened a bottle of firewhiskey and they'd managed for work their way through a considerable amount of it.

"I guess we're the last ones standing," Hermione remarked as Severus poured himself a generous glass of whiskey.

"And to the victors go the spoils," he remarked, raising his glass to her slightly. "Now, you can tell me what on Earth you're really doing here," he said, looking over at her.

"Excuse me?" she asked, confused.

"You could be doing any number of things with your life. You're not a stupid witch."

"Well, thank you for that," Hermione scoffed, "I suppose it's a compliment coming from you."

"The only one you'll get this side of Christmas, I assure you," he retorted. "Now, the truth. You honestly want to spend your days teaching ignorant magical children the norms and values of the muggle world?"

"Yes, I do," she answered, simply.

"Why?" he asked. He clearly didn't intend it to be insulting though many would have taken it that way. She knew better. He was genuinely curious, or at least she believed he was. Then again, he was a master Occlumens, so who could ever really tell what went on inside his head?

"Are you going to laugh at me?" Hermione asked him sardonically.

"I suppose that depends on your answer," he replied and she glared at him, unamused. "If you're about to tell me you've turned into Sybil Trelawney and a vision from beyond told you do it, then yes I probably will."

"No visions, no."

"Although I suppose, whatever you might say, I can't laugh at it. My reputation would never survive. Vampire bats don't laugh, you see."

"Well, there's no witnesses here," she said, gesturing to the otherwise empty room.

"What are you then? Scotch mist?" *1

Hermione scoffed, "Now there's a phrase you don't hear very often. It's easy to forget you're from the north sometimes."

"Don't you start on that as well, I get enough of that from Lucius. Bloody Southerns the lot of you," he grumbled into his goblet, "And don't change the subject, Granger."

"I thought I was doing quite a good job of it actually," she said, sheepishly. "Alright. I wanted something as far away from the Ministry as possible, that's why I opened the bookshop and went into teaching in the first place. And it's why I came back here. Aside from the fact that I love this castle and I missed it of course. After the war I thought that working in the Ministry was what I should be doing. Everyone said so and it was...good, at first I think. Then it just...started turning sour, bit by bit. There was miles of paperwork for everything for no reason at all. I was trying to fight for people who have no one else to fight for them only for them to tell me I shouldn't have bothered in the first place. Whatever laws I managed to pass were overruled pretty soon afterwards or just outright ignored. The people I was reporting to didn't even seem to care about the work."

"That's politics for you," he shrugged. "So that's it then? The joys of British Politics wore you down so you left and went the opposite way?"

"That's about it, yeah. I thought at least if I could teach magical children who don't know anything about muggles that there's really nothing to be afraid of, maybe I could still do something useful. I suppose it's like changing the History of Magic syllabus from the Goblin Rebellions and the Giant Wars to...Vol...erm...to how the Dark Lord came to power," she said, just about managing to stop herself from saying his name.

Harry had told that even now, the older man still didn't say the name, not simply out of fear or of anything the old burn scar left by the long removed Dark Mark could possibly do. But he'd been acclimatised to it, all Death Eaters had and learned behaviour wasn't easily broken.

"Point taken," Severus said after a moment. He'd long since changed the History of Magic syllabus to try and educate the students about how and why the recent wizarding wars had happened in an attempt to prevent any future wars. Professor Binns had been a little slow on the uptake, but ghosts were usually quite set in their ways. Luckily, he'd complied, eventually. "Hardly a laughable offence, anyway," he shrugged.

"Thank you," she muttered, quietly.

"Just be aware that most of the students will ignore you as much as the Ministry did."

"Possibly," she said.

"And paperwork will not be a distant memory."

"I know," Hermione nodded.

"You're not running for the hills yet?"

"Not yet."

"Mad as a March hare," Severus grumbled.

*1 Scotch mist - idiom. Something that is hard to find or doesn't exist. A saying from Yorkshire or Lancashire, according to Wikipedia anyway.

A.N. Some people probably won't like the fact that I ended Ron and Hermione's relationship but I gave them two years that's better than nothing surely. Honestly, I don't think I've changed my mind about them. Just seems like they don't have much in common other than the craziness of Harry's life and surviving the war together. That's not to say I'm going to go down the path of a Snape and Hermione relationship yet, I'm still undecided but if I do, at least she'll be older rather than being a student because I agree that that's just completely and utterly bizarre. For now though, they're two intelligent friends who banter.

I honestly quite like how this chapter turned out despite the liberties I took. Let me know what you think :)

Chapter 70: 25th July 2007

Manor Home Makeover

25th July 2007

Prince Manor, once Narcissa moved in, had become a very different household than it had been previously. When Severus had inherited it from his maternal grandmother several years ago, it been dreary, uninviting and decaying but he hadn't cared enough to try and fix that. However, with an entire manor at her disposal once she was freed, Narcissa, having nothing else to occupy herself, had set about transforming the manor to its former glory. Since then she and Lucius had redecorated many, many times and no matter how much he snarled and growled, Severus never partially tried to stop them. It at least gave the magic-less couple something to do and they were using their own money, although he had no idea how they'd acquired it. Their money and magic and their own Manor were still held by the Ministry.

Regardless, the Prince Manor of the present was a warm, luxurious and decedent place, decorated with plush carpets, soft furnishings and sparkling chandeliers. A little over the top, but nonetheless, it was definitely a place that Severus didn't object to living when he wasn't at Hogwarts. Which was more than he could ever have said about Spinner's End. Narcissa had hated the place in the few years she had lived there between her release from Ministry custody and from when Severus had inherited the manor and he didn't blame her. He hated the place too.

His one exception to their antics happened one summer morning. It was during the school holidays. He'd returned the previous night from the castle for the holidays and more or less collapsed into his bed. Today, he'd walked into foyer intending to walk the grounds before breakfast, only to discover an almost ten foot high, stone sculpture of a snake waiting beside the front door.

"There you are, Severus," Lucius strolled over to him. "I was meaning to tell you about this. Isn't it stunning?" he grinned.

"Stunning?" Severus reiterated, raising an eyebrow.

The carving was elaborate and gaudy and decidedly Slytherin. It was a snake with its fangs on show and beneath it, the dead and writhing bodies of its victims. It was a magical sculpture which meant it moved, almost like a magical photograph, it had limited movement but it hissed while its victims squirmed beneath it. Unfortunately for Severus, it almost exactly resembled a larger than life version of Nagini which looked poised to strike and finish the job she almost failed to do in the Shrieking Shack so many years ago. *1

"Yes, isn't it simply divine!" Lucius said with an almost childlike joy.

"Divine?" Severus repeated once more.

"No need to thank me, my dear old friend. When I saw it, I couldn't refuse. I said to myself, and 'Cissa of course, that it would look wonderful in the manor."

"I had nothing to do with this," Narcissa claimed, haughtily. She was sitting in the living room, the door was open so she could hear their conversation and was idly flicking through the morning newspaper.

"Don't be so modest, my dear," Lucius said. "And Severus, really, no need to thank me..."

"Thank you?!" Severus glared, a vein throbbing on his forehead.

"You're welcome," Lucius beamed and patted him on the back.

"Lucius," Severus took a calming breath. "How much did this...thing...cost?" he asked.

"Ah, well that's a rather interesting..."

"How much?!"

"The price is irrelevant."

"Lucius..."

"It was made by the finest magical sculptor in all of Europe. His work is worth fortunes! This is the first he's made in over a decade! Do you have any idea of the logistics I worked through to bring it here..."

"Lucius!" he bellowed.

"Three thousand galleons," Narcissa answered. *2

Severus' dark eyes, which has scared children and grown wizards alike, glared angrily at Lucius and the blonde wizard held up his hands in mock surrender. "Three thousand..." Severus hissed.

"Relax. I hardly took it from your vault," Lucius defended.

"Three thousand galleons!" Severus repeated and took a step towards Lucius, the blonde wizard subconsciously moved back a little.

"But it's art, Severus!"

"It's hideous!"

"How dare you!"

"More importantly, you bloody great fool, do you have any idea what will happen if they find you sneaking into your vault?! You'll be back in Azkaban before you can blink! You can be damn well sure they'll notice that much money simply vanishing!"

"Firstly, I didn't 'sneak in'..."

"It doesn't matter what you did, the Goblins will know!"

"Relax, they won't prattle to the Ministry. Some of them are quite agreeable actually. And it's not the first time we've withdrawn a large amount of money. The last redecoration of the place wasn't cheap, you know."

Severus let out an annoyed sigh and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "If you want to risk your freedom, freedom that I had to fight tooth and nail for, there's the door," he pointed. "Save me the trouble and expense of keeping you and deliver yourself to Azkaban if you want. You've always wasted money worse than anyone else on the planet and god knows you're not the brightest wizard who ever lived, but what on Earth made you think I'd want a replica of the bloody animal that damn near ripped my throat out?!"

"It's only a sculpture, Severus," Lucius remarked. "Although now that I look...I suppose it does rather look like Nagini, doesn't it," he mused.

"Dispose of it," Severus ordered.

"'Dispose'...but it..."

"Either it goes, or you do."

"Now, be reasonable..."

"I've put up with the two of you and your ridiculous redecorating well enough..."

"The place did need sprucing up, even you cannot deny that," Lucius said.

"And your idea of that is putting a giant, murderous serpent lording over its victims at my front door?!" Severus said, incredulously.

"'Murderous' is really a such an awful way of describing a work of art like this."

"How else would you describe it?"

"...Tasteful," he answered after a moments thought.

"So help me, Lucius," Severus grit his teeth, "Get rid of that monstrosity or..."

"Severus, don't be hasty, I'm sure we can all get along quite famously. We can move it, if you like."

"You're not moving it to our rooms," Narcissa remarked.

"'Cissa? Why ever not?"

"I don't want it and its...victims, staring at us in the privacy of our bedchambers. It's hardly conducive to passion, Lucius," she answered, dryly and his eyes widened at the implication.

"Understood, my dear," he said and turned back to Severus who looked well and truly murderous. "Alright, criticism accepted, Severus, you hate it. We can move it, don't do anything too drastic. I know that look and I..."

Before he could say more, the statue exploded in a spectacular display, smoke and ash filling the foyer and chunks of stone flying out in all directions in a cacophonous mess.

Severus had, within a fraction of a second, pulled his wand from his sleeve and nonverbally shattered it to pieces simply by staring at it. He'd also put up a shield charm around himself to keep away the dust and flying fragments of stone, but he'd done no such thing to help Lucius who was now covered in dust and sprinting for cover from the flying bits of stone behind the door to the living room. The noise was defeating as the state was smashed and the magic that was woven into the object was also obliterated, producing bright sparks which were around enough to blind.

Once the room cleared and the dust settled a moment later, Lucius emerged form behind the door, too stunned for words as he stared at the ruins of the statue in complete horror.

"You...you..." Lucius stammered.

"Have this cleaned up before I return," he ordered and wrenched the front door open. He stepped outside and made sure to slam it closed behind him, hard enough that it rattled the door frame.

"I did warn you," Narcissa remarked a moment later.

"He just..."

"You're lucky he wasn't aiming at you," she said, walking over to him.

"But the..."

"Sabey," Narcissa called out for the house elf.

The elf had been part of Severus' inheritance and once both Narcissa and Lucius had been freed from the custody of the Ministry, Lucius brought the elves from his own house to work at Prince manor as well.

"Madam Malfoy is calling for Sabey," the house elf appeared within a fraction of a second.

"Clean up this mess," she waved a dismissive hand at the rubble.

The elf nodded and set to work while Narsicca dragged her shell shocked husband into the living room.

Technically speaking, it was both a library and a living room in one, the walls were lined with books as high as the elaborately carved ceiling on bookshelves make of a wood so dark it was almost black. There were spiralling staircases around the shelves and a mezzanine level half way up with a balcony along it. The stone fireplace was enormous with the ancient Prince coat of arms emblazoned on it and around it, were plush dark green, medallion sofas and white fur rugs. The far wall of the room was lined with windows which reached from floor to ceiling, the curtains were dark green too. The room was littered with candles and domed gas lights which illuminated the sheer luxury of the furnishings and there was a grand piano in the far corner of the room. It had been a birthday gift from the Malfoy's to Severus. A gift that had been well recover unlike this latest one.

Narcissa more or less pushed her husband to sit on one of the medallion backed, plush green sofas. She then forced a silver goblet into his hand and scoffed at him while she picked up a jug of water from a table and poured some into the goblet.

"All things considered, that could have gone far worse," she said.

"He completely destroyed it!" he exclaimed, petulantly.

"I'm not surprised he did, it was rather ghastly. Really, Lucius I don't know why you bought it," she said. She really had thought the statue was quite morbid and they'd had enough morbid experience to last a lifetime. Granted it had all initially been of their own making, but by the end they'd simply wanted to escape with their lives.

"It'll be years before anything resembling that kind of quality comes onto the market again," he lamented.

"Good. That'll give Severus a chance to calm down before you decide to risk your life angering him again."

"Such faith in me, 'Cissa, I knew I married you for a reason," he said, sarcastically.

"Don't be petulant," she scolded.

Around half an hour later, the door closing rather forcefully heralded Severus' return just as breakfast appeared on the table in the dining room, courtesy of the house elves.

"Very well, I admit I made a slight error in judgement," Lucius declared as the other wizard sat down.

It was as close to an apology as a Slytherin would allow and though he was surprised, Severus merely raised an eyebrow at his friend. "But was it really necessary to destroy it?" Lucius bemoaned.

Narcissa stared at him and he sighed. "Regardless..." he took a deep breath. "What's done is done, I suppose," he grimaced.

"How was your walk, Severus?" Narcissa asked him.

"Fine," he replied, still glaring at Lucius.

"I may start joking you on your morning walks," she said, "If only to pass the time."

Severus snorted into his goblet and glanced at her. "You'd take one look at the mud and turn back...or attempt to glare it into submission for even daring to sully your ridiculously expensive dress," he replied, amused.

"Now why would I do that when you are perfectly capable of casting charms to protect my 'ridiculously expensive dress' from any such damage?" she asked, innocently.

"What about a cobra?" Lucius asked, "If we cannot have a python then..."

"No," Severus snapped and turned back to Narcissa. "I suppose if it'll save me the cleaning bill, then as you wish. But you could just go back to wearing muggle clothes, then it wouldn't matter."

"Hmmm," she raised her head, proudly. "I'd rather not," she said and he scoffed.

"But a cobra looks nothing like a..." Lucius interrupted.

"No," Severus repeating, sounding increasingly irritated each time.

"Incidentally, my dressmaker will be stopping by today," Narcissa remarked, ignoring Lucius' comment. "Would you be a dear and leave the Floo open at precisely two o' clock?" she asked Severus. "Unless you'd prefer to drop the anti apparition wards?"

"The Floo will be fine, as usual," he told her.

"Thank you," she nodded, appreciatively.

"A horned viper," Lucius suddenly remarked, slamming his hand onto the table for emphasis with a smug grin on his face.

"She's not the most agreeable of women, true, but really, that's quite uncalled for Lucius, she's the most renowned dressmaker..." Narcissa furrowed her brow.

"Not her, although she can be quite the viper. I meant for a new statue," he said. "A horned viper is very distinctive and..."

"No," Severus repeated.

"Rattle snake?"

"No."

"Now really..."

"No, Lucius," Severus said in a time which left no room for argument. "And bear in mind...next time it won't be the statue that I destroy," he said, silkily.

Lucius gave a dramatic sigh. "If you insist," he pursed his lip and glanced down his breakfast again."I thought it was quite an exquisite piece of work, I really didn't quite mean for it to..."

"Bloody fool," Severus scoffed.

"Well, art is an acquired taste. Clearly I failed to take yours into account."

"So my poor taste in art is to blame?" Severus asked, dryly.

"Naturally."

"For that much money I'd rather you have bought something useful."

"Art isn't meant to be useful, philistine."

"Ah, I see, so you're blaming me," Severus snorted.

"I said no such thing. I simply meant to give you a gift. I cannot helpt it if it was not well received," Lucius replied, sounding a little standoffish but also at the same time, a little guilty

"Was that an apology?"

"Don't be riddiculous."

"Idiot. Next time stick to fire whiskey. I'd appreciate that a hell of a lot more than another ugly statue," Severus told him with a sign.

"Very well," Lucius shrugged and raised his goblet.

Severus raised his own and they lightly clinked the goblets together. "I must be a fool," Severus muttered, "To put up with you."

"Allow me to return the sentiment," Lucius replied, smirking.

"You hardly have a choice. No one else would have you."

"Uncalled for," Lucius remarked and his wife simply rolled her eyes at them with a smile.

*1 I don't think I've ever seen or read anhthing to do with moving magical statues, but I figured it'd be a fun addition

*2 based off a wizard currency converter off the internet, three thousand galleons is about £15,000