The Manor
The week had started without any notable incidents for Severus. He had been so busy that he had hardly had time to think about Sirius, even though he was always present in the back of his mind. He felt as if he had a permanent filter in front of his eyes; wherever he looked, the face of Sirius smiled at him. In Severus' case, of course, this was reflected in his appalling behaviour towards his pupils, as if they were responsible for his invasive crush. He'd gone to see Dumbledore as soon as he'd got back to Hogwarts and Dumbledore had promised to investigate Umbridge, even though he didn't think they'd find out anything more that he didn't yet know and hadn't shared with Severus. Then Severus had spent the first two evenings of the week reading the books he had brought back from Sirius's house. One of them described wounds inflicted by objects bewitched by dark magic and Severus told himself not to rule that out. Strangely enough, he had a hunch it wasn't that, but the idea was too plausible to simply dismiss. He made a mental note to look more specifically into the subject, perhaps even in the Hogwarts library, even if it meant potentially having social contacts.
The other thing that awaited him was far less pleasant and far riskier. It was time for Severus to take his role as double agent to heart. He had told Dumbledore about his meeting with the Dark Lord and Dumbledore had also urged him to pay a visit to the Malfoy house. He had also advised him to go to the infirmary to check that everything was all right. Severus had obviously not taken his advice. Even though Madam Pomfrey had been a member of the Order since the beginning of the summer, since she had attended to him in an emergency, Severus felt that this was just one more unqualified person joining the secret organisation. He wondered how they could stand a chance against Voldemort when the bulk of the troops consisted of a werewolf, a housewife, a Muggle-lover and a few rebellious Aurors.
So, he wrote Lucius a letter saying he'd like to come round at the weekend, and the reply came the same day in the form of a great, pristine white owl with sharp black talons: the Malfoys were having a party on Friday evening, he was welcome to come. Severus, for his part, had used a school owl and felt in a bad mood following Lucius's reply. Not only did he feel that the owl itself was a display of power and wealth, but it would also mean that he would miss the Order's meeting, or at least part of it. It also meant that he might not see Sirius. What was the point of going there if the meeting was over? Perhaps if he finished reading the three books, he had brought with him, he might have an excuse to go and knock on the door.
The week quickly came to an end. He saw that the wound on Potter's hand had healed slightly, but he wasn't sure whether it was because the detentions with Umbridge have stopped or because Sirius had advised him to use some Essence of Murtlap. As soon as he had these thoughts, Severus regretted it, he should not get involved in such things. He had to stay out of Black's personal life and his interactions with his godson. He prepared with particular care for the reception at the Malfoy house. Severus hated meals like this, where you had to talk and put on a brave face. There was nothing more boring than having to pretend to be interested in people he didn't care about. Lucius had once been something of a friend, but now Severus was so inwardly on edge when they saw each other that it was more of a burden than anything else. Luckily Draco really liked him, it made things easier for him.
Severus chose the only set of other robes he owned. Hardly different from what he usually wore, his wizard's robe was no longer black but a very dark green and the cufflinks on his shirt - the fabric of which was of better quality - were silver. He looked briefly at himself in the only mirror he had and winced when he saw his scars. He was always surprised when he saw them. He sighed, thinking that Lucius and the other guests present were bound to ask him indiscreet questions about where they came from. He fixed his hair, thinking about the vague hope he had of seeing Sirius after his dinner. He immediately gave up when he saw that it remained straight and without volume, framing his face which reflected all the expression of his bad mood.
He left his quarters, slamming the door behind him, and hurried out of the castle, crossing the park in long strides. Just as he was about to reach the gate, he saw a figure coming towards him. He couldn't make out who it was at first but soon saw, to his relief, that it was in fact McGonagall.
“Severus! Good evening," she said with a pinched smile.
“Good evening, Minerva," he replied in his deep voice.
She stopped short of him.
“The meeting isn't until later," she pointed out after giving him a detailed look.
“I know," Severus said, blushing slightly, "but I've got obligations to attend to first. I don't know if I'll be there tonight, I'll come afterwards anyway, maybe you won't have finished.”
“Where are you going, if you don't mind my asking," asked the Transfiguration Teacher, raising one of her eyebrows.
“To the Malfoy house.”
“Oh, I see," she said.
Seeing that Severus wasn't adding anything, she continued.
“Is it anything in particular? Something to do with your mission?”
“In a way, yes. I'm not going for pleasure, if that's what you mean.”
“You're well dressed in any case," she remarked.
“Oh I... maybe I shouldn't have...”
“Just say thank you or don't say anything at all," McGonagall cut him off impatiently.
Severus felt as if he were back to being a pupil in front of his stern teacher.
“Well, thank you," he said, looking down at the floor.
Strangely, he hoped McGonagall would continue the conversation. He would have a good reason to delay his departure for the manor.
“Is everything all right, Severus?” she asked, her voice suddenly softer.
“Yes, I mean it's no worse than usual," he replied, a little surprised by the question.
“You weren't at Hogwarts last weekend, so I wondered if everything was all right, if there wasn't something I could do for you.”
“I... I had a meeting with him. Then I went somewhere else, I didn't want to go back to Hogwarts.”
“So you went home?”
“Not exactly," said Severus, who felt an undeniable urge to tell McGonagall where he'd been. “I went to the Order's headquarters.”
“Oh, I see," McGonagall said again. “So you stayed with Sirius?”
“That's right," Severus muttered, feeling the redness return to his face.
Why did his emotions always have to be painted like that, on display for all to see?
“I took the opportunity to research magical amnesia in the Blacks' library.”
“Did it pay off?”
“Not yet, not really. But there are so many books to explore, I think there's still a chance of discovering something interesting. Black helped me, and maybe he'll have found something during the week.”
“You seem to be getting on better since the summer," remarked McGonagall.
“That's true,” said Severus a little too cheerfully. “We've decided to put the past behind us.”
“It's a good thing," replied the Gryffindor. “I'm sorry I didn't do more at the time, apart from giving detentions to James and Sirius and taking points off my own house. Perhaps I should have taken more drastic action or explained to them in a harsher way that bullying is intolerable behaviour.”
“Sirius has apologised," Severus murmured, turning his head away, touched by McGonagall's words.
“It's the least he could do.”
“I haven't forgiven him," Severus added, "but I don't want to go through all that again with him. Not at the moment, anyway.”
“You can do what you like, but I was just saying how sorry I was that I hadn't been firmer.”
“Thank you," Severus said with a nod.
“Very well," she said with a sigh. “I'll let you get on with your meal, so perhaps we'll see you later.”
“Yes, perhaps," Severus said, still a little surprised.
McGonagall left him with an encouraging look. When he reached his Apparating spot, Severus cleared his thoughts and concentrated. He could feel the stress seeping into his stomach and up his abdomen into his throat. What did this evening with the Malfoys have in store for him? Full of apprehension, he closed his eyes and spun around.
He arrived at a large black wrought iron gate that he knew well. Only he hadn't been there for ages. Usually, these visits to the Malfoy house were just the same to him, and even gave him a little pleasure. Tonight, however, Severus feared he would not be able to return to his role as the mysterious and powerful Death Eater. Yet he had to. He didn't know exactly what depended on him in the coming war, but Dumbledore kept assuring him of his crucial role. Since Voldemort's return a few months earlier, he was no longer just Harry Potter's shadow protector but also a double-agent and even though he had suspected the Dark Lord's return over the previous year, he still needed to get used to this new role. After all, last time he was only on one side.
Severus raised his wand and made the movements he knew he had to use to lift the protective spell. The iron ornaments came to life and with a squeak the door opened before him. Severus stepped into the huge driveway that led to the manor, set high on a small hill. "Draco really is a spoilt brat," Severus thought. Just the opposite of what he had been. He knew the young Slytherin wasn't the kindest to students from other houses, but he was one of the best students in his year. Severus liked him, even if he sometimes wondered how he would cover for him the day he certainly will do something really dangerous to Potter. The two boys hated each other, and Severus had the unpleasant feeling that the older they got, the worse things could get.
As he walked the last few yards, Severus's thoughts drifted back to London. He wondered what Sirius would think of his absence. If he would even notice his absence. Would he be disappointed, or would he not care? At the thought of it, Severus felt his spirits strangely drop. He didn't think there would ever come a day in his life when he would want to be in Sirius Black's house more than Lucius Malfoy's manor. He activated his Occlumency shields so that absolutely no one could attempt to penetrate his mind. Although he knew he was the best at it and didn't think any of the Malfoy guests could get past his barriers, he preferred to take as many precautions as possible.
He arrived at the front door and knocked. The light filtered through the misty curtains of the large windows, and he could hear the murmur of conversations and the faint sound of classical music. A moment later, the door opened and there stood Narcissa Malfoy. She smiled at him, but Severus noticed that her eyes remained cold.
“Good evening, Severus, come in," she said, stepping back.
“Good evening, Narcissa," he replied.
They shook hands and immediately some elves appeared to grab Severus's cloak.
“It's been a long time since we've seen you with us," she remarked.
Her tone was gentle, but Severus knew it was also laden with reproach.
“I know, I've been very busy," he said cordially and coolly, determined not to say any more than was necessary.
“I'm sure you have, as all of us.”
An elf appeared before them with a tray laden with glasses that looked like champagne. Narcissa took one for herself and Severus did the same, although he didn't really like that drink.
The hall was decorated with large portraits of the Malfoy family, and although Severus thought that was presumptuous, he couldn't help feeling the authenticity of the wizard family. The gilding and chased marble embroidery seemed to cast their shadows over him and Severus felt infinitely small as he walked down the spacious corridor to one of the many drawing rooms in which the reception was held. No sooner had he set foot in the large, illuminated room than Lucius Malfoy turned to greet him, much more warmly than his wife.
“Severus!," he exclaimed. “I'm glad to see you, it's been a long time!”
“Good evening Lucius," Severus said in a somewhat reserved tone as he shook his hand.
The master of the house was wearing a wizard dress that must have been worth a month's wages to Severus, silver with shiny, finely embroidered black motifs.
“How are you?," Malfoy asked, glancing unsubtly at Severus's scars.
“Very well," Severus replied. “I'm very busy with Hogwarts business.”
Severus scanned the room quickly and recognised a few Death Eaters as well as a number of Ministry figures. This was not going to be an evening dedicated to the activities of the Dark Lord and, realising this, Severus felt the weight on his stomach ease a little. But he still had no desire to be there.
“Draco's told me a funny story, if you don't mind me saying so," Malfoy continued. “We haven't seen you all summer and I've been worried. Luckily, I heard from my son. It seems that you... you were abroad, weren't you?”
“Yes," nodded Severus uncomfortably. “I needed certain ingredients that are difficult to find in Great Britain. Or at least not on my salary.”
“Severus, you could have asked me instead of putting yourself in danger... these scars are…”
“It's the work of an Acromentula," Severus said hastily. “It's all right, I got what I wanted. Their venom is particularly rare and will allow me to make potions that may prove very useful.”
“I see," Malfoy replied. “You went there at... at his request.”
Understanding what the blond was getting at, Severus nodded, enjoying the turn the conversation was taking. Lucius's curiosity was giving him the perfect story.
“I'm glad to know these potions are in such good hands, Severus. But the next time he gives you an assignment, don't hesitate to come and see me. My money is at the disposal of our cause.”
“I'll remember that, Lucius, thank you," said Severus.
“You're welcome. Come, I'll introduce you to the guests you may not yet know.”
Severus resignedly followed Malfoy and his silver robe. Severus did not know everyone and was introduced to the few members of the Ministry. To his horror, one of them asked him about Umbridge. Pursing his lips, Severus replied curtly that he had never spoken to her and had no idea how her classes went. He refrained from mentioning her behaviour and her total lack of respect for the way the school was supposed to function. In a hurry to get out of this potentially dangerous conversation, he looked round and nodded to Yaxley and Rookwood, who were standing a little way off, draining their glasses of champagne.
Severus didn't like them either, but they were skilled wizards, and Yaxley was far from stupid. Not subtle, to be sure, but able to think.
As he walked towards them and away from the Ministry wizard, he grabbed a second glass from an elf's tray and felt his head float a little. Aware that under no circumstances should he allow the effects of alcohol to spread through him, he decided to drink this second cup more slowly. He didn't often drink but their conversation was boring. Rookwood asked Severus without embarrassment where the scars had come from and, with a disgruntled hiss, Severus pointed out that it was none of his business and that he would find out one day if their Master saw fit. Rookwood stiffened and something resembling a mixture of fear and resentment flashed across his face as Yaxley squinted. Both men had got the message, Severus had already gone on a mission for the Dark Lord while they themselves had done nothing.
Satisfied, Severus was not annoyed to see the elves bring in trays laden with all sorts of petits-fours, and luxurious toasts. He was hungry, and as he took a piece of toast, he realised that his second cup was already empty. Apart from Yaxley and Rookwood, Grabe, Goyle, Macnair, Avery and Mulciber were present. Severus had not seen his two former dormitory mates for over a decade. This was very unpleasant for him. As he was forced to drink another cup with them and pretend to be interested in their insubstantial lives, Severus remembered that their behaviour at Hogwarts had been one of the reasons why Lily had gradually stopped speaking to him. "You and your Slytherin gang are just interested in dark magic," she had told him one day, reproaching him for letting Avery and Mulciber constantly attack Mary Macdonald, one of her friends. Severus knew he had been a coward that day, not telling Lily that he disapproved of such actions and trying to pass it off as humour. But he would never have dared stop the two Slytherins from doing anything to anyone, except perhaps if Lily had been one of their targets. He wanted too much to belong to their group. And it was true, he was interested in dark magic. Lily had pointed out to him that the behaviour of his two 'friends' was the same as that of Black and Potter towards him and in a very sarcastic tone had asked him if he appreciated this kind of humour when it was directed against him. Severus got angry that day and they had a row. Their friendship had survived a few weeks, and then the incident at the lake had happened.
Shoving the memories away, Severus felt the sadness wash over him and was struck by its intensity, as if a dark cloud had descended upon him. He noticed that the alcohol might have something to do with it. He felt like cursing the two figures in front of him but didn't let his feelings show as Avery, who seemed in good spirits, told Mulciber about one of the Potions classes where he and Severus had got the best mark.
“To be perfectly honest, Avery," Severus remarked sarcastically, "you weren't much use to me, all those times you got top marks in Potions were thanks to me.”
“You didn't mind teaming up with me," he protested, blushing slightly.
“Of course, because I knew you weren't going to touch anything and I could work in peace.”
Mulciber laughed.
“I wouldn't like to have you as a teacher, Snape," he said.
“Only mediocre students and Gryffindors have anything to fear from me," Severus said bitterly. “Unless you fall into the first category, I think if you kept quiet you'd have nothing to fear.”
It was Avery's turn to snigger stupidly. Severus had had enough, so he excused himself and left the sitting room in search of the facilities.
As he made his way down the long corridor, his gait slightly unsteady, he turned into another corridor where he thought the toilets might be. Looking around to see which door might be the right one, a painting suddenly caught his eye. It was much smaller than the others and seemed to be hidden by a large bouquet of white roses placed on a small table in front of it, as if put there on purpose. He moved closer to get a better look. It was a scene from everyday life and Severus knew at once what had caught his attention. The room looked very familiar: it was his room at 12 Grimmauld Place.
Feeling his heart quicken, he looked at the painting. Several children were playing on the bed and a young girl was sitting on the edge, watching the children. Only her profile was visible and from time to time she tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear. A little girl with dark hair was holding the hand of a boy with dark, curly hair who was trying to push her back onto the bed behind her. She kept falling and rising, throwing herself at... Sirius. Severus was sure it was him. Another little blonde girl had her back to the wall and was looking on disapprovingly, sitting next to a little boy, the youngest, who seemed to be trying to get her attention by grabbing her hair. She kept pushing him away, annoyed. Totally unable to take his eyes off the canvas, Severus stared at the child, Sirius, grabbing the girl. Absorbed in his contemplation of the painting, he did not hear the footsteps approaching behind him.
“I see you've found the only surviving painting where the three Black sisters and their two cousins can be seen together," came Narcissa's voice.
Severus turned abruptly.
“I'm sorry,” he said, blushing slightly, like a child caught in the act of doing something forbidden. “I'm looking for the facilities.”
“It's the door opposite," replied Narcissa.
However, she approached him and pushed the vase containing the roses to one side to display the little painting in its entirety.
“I think that was one of the last times we were together. Bella didn't want to be there, it was Orion Black's birthday, my aunt and uncle had given a party at their house in his honour.”
Severus said nothing and was surprised by the gentleness of Narcissa's tone.
“As you can see, I was not in a good mood either.”
She let out a mocking laugh.
“And yes," she continued pointing at Sirius and Andromeda, "at the time I didn't know the two of them got on so well because they were going to betray their blood.”
Severus forced himself not to react.
“I suppose I should get rid of this painting, but I don't know why, I just can't.”
“What year was it?" Severus finally asked, trying to sound detached.
“I don't know exactly, let me think... I think I was twelve. I was in my second year at Hogwarts, so... 1968, I'd say.”
With a quick calculation, Severus learned that Sirius was about 8 or 9 years old on the web, not knowing exactly when he had been born. Severus would soon meet him in the Hogwarts Express for the first time.
“That traitor Sirius Black," said Narcissa. “And my poor sister Andromeda. Idiots... sometimes I wonder what my dear cousin is up to. I hear Dumbledore's protecting him.”
Severus refrained from saying anything. But Narcissa was clearly not finished.
“It's strange, I can't remember the address of this house at all. It's as if it's faded from my memory. And yet I often went there as a child.”
“It doesn't really matter anyway, does it," said Severus.
“No, that's true, it doesn't matter at all," replied Narcissa absently. “I just find it strange...”
Severus felt it was time to cut this conversation short. He regretted having approached the painting. He moved to indicate his impatience to Lucius's wife.
“Oh, excuse me Severus, I was lost in thought. I'll leave you in peace.”
She put the bouquet back in front of the painting and Severus nodded appreciatively and went to lock himself in the bathroom, while Narcissa's footsteps in the corridor told him she had left. His head was spinning, and he realised he'd lost count of how many cups he'd swallowed. Clearly the tension he had felt at the start of the evening had led him to drink more than usual, but it hadn't gone away.
As he met the guests in the drawing room, Severus was acutely aware that he had no desire to be there. Although he didn't really like the members of the Order of the Phoenix either, his heart had been telling him in no uncertain terms all evening that he belonged with them. He was going to have to be extra vigilant not to let anything show, and as the tension in his stomach tightened again, Severus realised that this reception was just the beginning of a long series where he was going to have to stand by, help, perhaps watch people die or kill them himself.