Pairing Severus Snape/Narcissa Malfoy Rating M Warnings Explicit het, mild bondage, angst Summary After the fall of Voldemort, Hogwarts has been repaired and is open. Its new headmaster is determined to remove all Slytherin tendencies from the school. Meanwhile, Severus Snape has isolated himself, haunted by his belief that he failed his students. When he learns this latest news, he returns to Hogwarts and has an eye-opening experience. Disclaimer The world of HP and its characters belongs to Rowling. Credit for the Slytherin Directives (listed in the footnote) goes to Theatresm, who featured them in "Brave New World". The author of this fic has borrowed them for the purposes of storytelling. No profit was or will be made. Word count 9,400 Author Notes Many thanks to two wonderful betas, B and V. All remaining errors are mine alone. Happy Holidays, irena_candy! I hope you like it! I tried to work in a number of your requested elements.
The Whisperer
Pomona Sprout sat back and turned to look at her companion. A frown marred her ordinarily pleasant face. Her expression gradually hardened from shock to anger before settling into determination.
"Then we are agreed?" he asked.
She nodded once, sharply. "Agreed," she said without hesitation, and placed her hand on his. A faint glow flared briefly around their hands, then vanished without a trace.
* * * *
Hands clenched into fists at her side, Tracey Davis stood in the middle of the common room, facing a semi-circle of other first years. Severus observed several students stiffen as he entered. He lifted an eyebrow at the semi-circle and Pansy Parkinson drawled with assurance, "Professor, we were just explaining to Miss Davis here that Slytherin House does not need any half-bloods." Severus's mouth tightened and he shook his head.
"Miss Parkinson," he said softly, "Miss Davis is a half-blood and as such, she cannot be expected to understand true wizarding culture as preserved solely by Slytherin House." Severus felt a stab of self-loathing pierce him as Tracey Davis looked stricken. "You, however, should know that the needs of the House outweigh the needs of one's self. And one of the needs of Slytherin House is to present a united front at all times."
Pansy looked at the floor and nodded. "Yes, sir," she replied in a subdued tone. She raised her head to look at Tracey Davis. Later, her glare promised.
....
Severus groaned and rolled over.
....
Severus glared at Miles Bletchley, who stood motionlessly before his desk. Severus longed to strangle the boy, or at least find something that would crack that placid expression on Bletchley's face. Bletchley had jinxed Alicia Spinnet from behind in the library prior to the Gryffindor-Slytherin match. Not only had the jinx been obvious, but the boy had been absurdly reckless. He had not an ounce of cunning and jinxed the girl in front of fourteen eyewitnesses. It had taxed his acting abilities to the limit when Severus was forced to pretend he did not believe any of the witnesses.
....
His head tossed back and forth on the pillow.
....
Dumbledore added sharply, "And while we are talking about services you owe me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Slytherin friend?"
The images came faster:
Crabbe being incinerated by the Fiendfyre...a drawn, almost frantic Draco glaring at him with suspicion and rejecting his offer of assistance...Theodore Nott showing up for school in his sixth year looking exhausted, no doubt struggling to keep things together after his widower father had been seriously injured...Narcissa begging him to help Draco...extricating a disoriented Montague from a toilet...Lucius "chastising" a young Draco who inartfully tried to prepare Potions ingredients...
Severus jerked as he woke suddenly. Full of adrenaline, Severus sat up and struggled to get his bearings. He fumbled for his robe, not finding it. With a huff of annoyance, he waved his hand and muttered, "Lumos." A single light glowed faintly as he stood, wrapped his robe around his gaunt frame, and began to pace throughout the cottage. He contemplated the stairs; brewing always calmed him. He shook his head; he was too jittery to do anything more than mangle ingredients. Mangle The faint sound of an arrogant voice filled his head, "Weasley's mangled my roots, Professor." Had anyone else heard the hint of vulnerability in that voice? What should he have done? When had it all gone so wrong?
Yes, he had landed on his feet. He smirked. There were some advantages to being a half-blood. With the proper documentation, he had gradually squirrelled away enough to acquire an isolated cottage, complete with a cellar sufficient for an adequate Potions lab. His Muggle cousin had not minded being listed on the title deeds; why should he? And when he suddenly appeared on his cousin's doorstep for the keys, the man had grumbled that it was good to be shot of the responsibility and handed them over without a pause. And so The Whisperer had taken possession of what he hoped would be his home for a good long time.
The smirk faded as he sighed. "Pathetic," he grumbled to himself. Not only wizards had a penchant for popular labels. Of course, the wizarding ones were flashier: The Boy Who Lived Again, The Most Powerful Wizard Alive, The Only One You Know Who Fears, You Know Who, The Dark Lord. Severus couldn't remember when he had first heard a local refer to him as The Whisperer. But from the way her companion nodded without comment, it was clear the label was in common usage. He fingered the scar tissue on his neck and snorted. Perhaps he should take comfort that it was better than That Snape Boy Who Lives By The River.
His gaze fell on the Daily Prophet lying discarded on the table. SLYTHERIN HOUSE TO BE REESTABLISHED blared the headline, with MINISTER WEASLEY PROMISES STRICT MONITORING underneath. No doubt that was what had set off his nightmares. Severus grimaced. I should have known, he thought. I should have been prepared.
Severus paced into the kitchen. He fumbled as he started coffee brewing and prepared breakfast. He deliberately calmed his thoughts and felt his heart rate subside as the adrenaline drained away. That worked until he sat down at the table with his breakfast and saw the Prophet again.
He had been so worn down by the time he made that Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa. He accepted Arthur Weasley at face value. He took comfort in the way Arthur was not openly antagonistic. Unlike the others in the Order, Severus fumed. I let myself think Arthur might not be so bigoted. Let myself be lulled into a false sense of security that there would be at least a few Gryffindors in the Ministry who might not treat people as outlaws just because they were Slytherins. I got sloppy. I was an idiot!
Morosely, Severus wondered how he could have forgot that Weasley's mother was a Black disowned by her family, or that Weasley fathered a large brood, each of whom was a Gryffindor, and that their hatred and bigotry was more pronounced with each child. While Bill was intelligent and tolerable, the twins were vicious but hid their nastiness behind the facade of pranks. The youngest, however, had not even bothered trying to pretend they were pranks and, what was worse, had exercised no discernment in her choice of targets.
Severus glared at the paper, his mind replaying the substance of the article. When Hogwarts had finally been rebuilt enough to allow the school to reopen, Headmistress McGonagall - he snorted - had quit, pleading exhaustion. He sneered. Minerva could have helped the school - she was needed and she knew it, having learned of the Ministry's plans. But experience had shown that she was simply unwilling to challenge any Gryffindor if doing so would benefit those in other Houses, especially if Slytherins were involved.
The Ministry happily took advantage of the opening - really, what had Minerva been thinking? Had the Umbridge debacle taught her nothing? -- and exerted considerable pressure on the Board of Governors. With all Slytherins banned from the Board - because, after all, Weasley had explained, everyone knew that Darkness was an integral part of that House - it was a simple matter to install Flying Instructor John Wood as the new Hogwarts Headmaster. Severus grimaced. As much hatred as the sainted Marauders had towards Slytherin, it paled in comparison to that shown by the new Headmaster. He had been a few years older than Severus, and had aided the Marauders continually. Not that they ever needed much encouragement.
And the Ministry could be assured of Wood's attitude. Just look at his son, Oliver. Severus remembered his disquiet at overhearing a conversation between Oliver Wood and the Weasley twins. He had been entering the castle with Hagrid after foraging in the Forbidden Forest...
* * * *
Oliver Wood was talking loudly as he and the Weasley twins descended the main staircase. "I'm telling you," Wood said, "there's not a single Slytherin worth anything. And none of them hesitate to cheat their way to what they want. Of course they have to cheat, though. They can't get anything honestly. If we're not careful, they'll cheat their way to taking the House Cup again."
George Weasley glanced up, saw the two professors entering the castle, and nudged his brother. "Well, Wood, what do you suggest? We already tried hexing their broomsticks to buck them off with that spell your Dad told you about. Too bad Snape seemed to recognize that spell for some reason and knew the counter-jinx." George smirked. "Short of just bumping off the entire Slytherin team--"
"By Merlin, I would, if I thought I could get away with it!" Wood interrupted.
"Mr. Wood!" Snape snarled. Wood jumped, obviously not having noticed the professors, but the Weasley twins grinned expectantly.
"Aw, Perfesser," Hagrid jumped in. "They didn't mean anything by it, didya boys? They're jus bein' boys."
* * * *
Back in his cottage, Severus smiled. A cold smile. Thank Salazar, the man had followed his own Directives. Gryffindors never really understood that Hogwarts was the product of four equal Founders. The castle was imbued with Slytherin's magic as much as the others'. And when the new Headmaster tried to block off the passages to Slytherin House, the castle rebelled. Not that the Prophet ever reported it. Oh, no. But Severus still had his sources...
* * * *
John Wood had eagerly accepted his promotion from Flying Instructor. He was determined to comport himself as Headmaster with style. Dumbledore had, of course, shown the flair and character expected of a Hogwarts headmaster. Wood had joined the staff as a Flying Instructor after the end of the war, and so had experienced working at Hogwarts for a brief time with McGonagall as Headmistress. She had not been too bad, but then of course she'd been Deputy under Dumbledore for years. But Snape!
Wood practically smouldered with fury as he recalled the pandemonium at Snape's trial when the Wizengamot announced that due to "extenuating circumstances", his punishment was to be limited to time served. And to think that Snape had spent barely a year in prison, after lollygagging around in hospitals for more than a year! It stood to reason that someone like Snape would be able to work the system to take advantage of honest, hard-working people for a least some time. Oh, he was supposedly recovering from serious injuries, but the authorities eventually wised up and imprisoned him in preparation for his trial. But in the end he spent only a few months in prison. For killing the most beloved wizard to ever live, not to mention the greatest headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen!
And all because Harry Potter had insisted that Snape and the Malfoys had been instrumental in Voldemort's defeat. How Snape and the Malfoys had all managed to bamboozle Harry Potter, he could not imagine. He remembered them clearly from their school days. One look at Snape walking in for his Sorting, and Wood had known the kid was bad news. Skinny, greasy, sneering. As if Snape had any call to be sneering at decent people, wearing worn out hand-me-downs and picking a fight with the Potter boy as soon as he got on the train. Stood to reason the brat had Sorted into Slytherin. And then he all but stalked poor Lily Evans. He would not leave her alone, until her friends finally convinced her to see sense and put paid to him.
The Malfoys were even worse. They positively reeked of Dark magic at their trials. He recalled all too well how Lucius Malfoy had strutted around Hogwarts as a prefect, sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. Trying to pin it on Gryffindors every time a Slytherin or Ravenclaw did something they shouldn't have done. At least the Hufflepuffs had been too smart to let Malfoy use them for his blame games. They had stuck to themselves, as they should! He shook his head, thinking how poor James and Lily must be rolling in their graves to know that their son had been so taken in.
Wood arrived early for his first staff meeting as Headmaster. It would not do to be unprepared, he reasoned. Filius Flitwick was the first to arrive, and Wood greeted him with a genuine, warm smile. He had always like Flitwick. As the other teachers arrived, Wood prepared to make his announcements.
"Now that we're settled," Wood began, "I thought I should review with you a few changes we will be making with the approval of the Ministry. First, and most importantly, we will be closing Slytherin House. The dungeons will be walled off and Potions classes will be moved to a better ventilated classroom above ground."
The professors exchanged looks Wood was not able to read.
"Headmaster," Filius said tentatively, "I'm not certain that's wise. Hogwarts was founded on the principle of four Houses, carefully balanced."
"Yes, yes," Wood said testily. "But Salazar Slytherin almost immediately deserted. Unfortunately, he left his House behind, and it's been a festering sore in Hogwarts and the greater wizarding society ever since. Just look at Dumbledore. A great wizard, of course, but his one failing, if I may say, was the way he catered so to Slytherin House. And just look where that led him in the end."
A shocked silence followed his words.
"Now," Wood resumed, "I will be meeting the work crews from the Ministry shortly after we finish here. They will seal off the half of the dungeons under the lake and housing the Slytherin rooms, including the dormitories and Potions classroom and supply rooms. If any of you have left anything in that area -- although I would hope all of you had better sense -- you should retrieve it immediately we are finished here."
Septima Vector cleared her throat. "Headmaster," she began. "What calculations have been done with respect to the castle's alterations? As you may know, with assistance from Minerva, Pomona and Filius, I performed extensive calculations regarding the additions and repairs to the castle during its reconstruction. Those were examined by some of the world's finest Arithmancers, not only in Britain, but also our European counterparts. All reviews were based on the assumption that there would be no more significant work done on the castle."
Wood waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, don't worry about that," he said. "The finest minds at the Ministry had examined the issue and concluded that none of this work impinges on the castle's structural integrity. All we are doing is sealing off a suspect area. And aside from house elves and Hufflepuffs, who would notice changes to the dungeons anyway?"
Once again, silence descended. Wood blinked. Had a snarl just briefly appeared on the gentle Herbology Professor's face? No, surely not, he thought. No doubt just a trick of the light.
"What of the students?" Pomona asked. At Wood's blank expression, she elaborated. "The Slytherin students? The ones who will be returning to Hogwarts? And the new students starting this year?"
"Oh, as to them," Wood replied, "those existing Slytherin students planning to return - such as they are - will be given the option of Sorting into another House or transferring to another school. It really doesn't matter which, does it? And as to the future, surely no students would want to be in Slytherin. So it should not be any problem at all, really. Now, let us turn to more important matters. On the timetables..." Wood turned the discussion to the myriad details of keeping a school functioning from day to day.
After the meeting, the teachers lingered as Wood gathered his papers and strode from the room. In the past, he had always timed his arrival to staff meetings so he could secure a chair by the door and be the first to slip out at the meeting's conclusion. It had never quite registered that most of the other teachers also left meetings as quickly as possible. And so, he did not notice the change in routine from prior meetings, nor would he have assigned it much significance if he had done. Wood was already focused on the upcoming, very satisfying task of closing Slytherin House for good.
Later that day, the castle shuddered as stone barriers thudded into place. Wood remained in the dungeons, "supervising" the Ministry work crew. And so he did not see the knowing looks exchanged by professors who congregated in groups throughout the castle. Even Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris exchanged a satisfied smile.
Wood remained oblivious to any problems until late afternoon. When he at last emerged from the staircase previously leading to the Slytherin area of the dungeons, he was beaming with satisfaction for a job well done. He headed for the headmaster's office, only to encounter a blank stone wall where the corridor to his office should have been. Frowning, Wood retraced his steps. This time, he moved carefully through the corridors, thinking perhaps he had made a wrong turn while distracted. Yet the stone wall blocking the office remained.
Wood headed to Flitwick's office. He noticed nothing unusual until, standing in front of Flitwick's door, he glimpsed out of the corner of his eye what appeared to be an unusual curve down the corridor. Investigating, he found another blank stone wall blocking the corridor. He pondered the wall as he returned and knocked on Flitwick's door.
"Come in, come in, Headmaster," Flitwick called. Only slightly puzzled by this, Wood entered the office to find Flitwick perched on a chair in front of a desk with shortened legs.
"Filius," Wood began. "Have you noticed any . . . em. . . alterations to the castle outside the dungeons?"
Flitwick nodded. "I think you will find, Headmaster, that all of the dormitories, common rooms and other House facilities for each House are currently completely inaccessible."
"But....but...what," Wood sputtered.
"We did try to warn you, Headmaster. Hogwarts is not merely stone and mortar. It was created with the magic of the four Founders. It is perhaps unfortunate that you were never a Head of House. When each Head takes their position, they become privy to many of the castle's secrets. Among them is the inviolable foundation of all four Houses. You see, the Founders themselves feared that there might be times when one or more House was in ascendance and wished to guard against any excess. And so, any structural changes affecting any House will be effectively mirrored for the others."
"But what about my office?" Wood cried.
"Your office, Headmaster?"
"Yes, my office! It's completely inaccessible as well!"
"Ah." Flitwick paused. "As to that, I cannot offer any definitive response. I realize that in your position as Flying Instructor, you worked primarily out of doors and with the outlying buildings. But surely before approving this alteration, the Ministry reviewed the records documenting the castle's partially sentient nature? It's entirely possible you offended her."
As Wood's jaw dropped, Flitwick continued. "That doesn't happen often, mind. But it's not unheard of. Why, I remember Dolores Umbridge had a similar problem."
Before Wood could utter a word, Flitwick gently steered him toward the door. Wood stepped out into the corridor and, still puzzled, turned to ask another question, only to find the door already shut. Wood shook his head and headed down to the castle exit. He would consult the experts at the Ministry. They would be able to resolve this difficulty.
* * * *
After he shut the door behind Wood, Filius quickly waved his wand to erect a Privacy charm before erupting into outright guffaws. The helpless outrage on their illustrious headmaster's face was just too amusing to resist. He had to share this latest development with Pomona.
Filius quickly moved through the castle and out to the greenhouses. Just as he suspected, Pomona was inside amongst her plants. He hung back, loath to interrupt her work. As much as he respected Pomona, Filius just did not trust plants. Several species had attacked him in a coordinated fashion once when he was a lad, and he was not certain he would ever feel entirely comfortable in a greenhouse.
"Almost finished here, Filius. I'll be with you in two shakes of a lamb's tail," Pomona called. She replanted the last of her cuttings and wiped her forehead with the back of her glove, leaving a bit of dirt in the process.
"Come and sit down," Pomona said as she led Filius to a small office in the back of the greenhouse. She tapped a pot with her wand and soon they were settled, each with a cup of tea in front of them.
"Now then." Pomona raised her eyebrows inquiringly at Filius. "What brings you to the greenhouse? Besides the plants, which I know you love visiting so much." Pomona did like to tease her friends.
"Our new headmaster was just down to see me." Filius wore a grin and a gleeful expression. "He was rather agitated. The castle exceeded our expectations today. In addition to blocking off the House areas, the castle walled off access to the headmaster's office."
The two shared a burst of companionable laughter.
"It still bothers me, Pomona," Filius said, "that we did not understand just what it truly meant when Severus moved into the headmaster's office."
"Now, Filius. Severus was a superb spy and fooled almost everyone in believing he was a true Death Eater. And as I recall, you did counsel us at the time to consider that the castle had not barred Severus from the headmaster's office. That was what stayed our hands for so long the year he was headmaster. But yes, we should have spoken to him privately. A Heads of House conference, but without Minerva. She was too close to Albus and Harry to think rationally then. When I broached the subject, she refused to even consider that no headmaster could fool the castle if he was truly acting against Hogwarts."
Filius nodded, but then replied, "And yet, I forgot that in the end, Pomona. I came across Minerva duelling Severus and all I could think was that Severus really was about to murder again. I helped drive him from the castle. The truth - that he was looking for Harry Potter to pass on Dumbledore's final message -- never occurred to me. Nor did I for one moment think that Minerva might have attacked him, rather than the other way 'round. I'm afraid my interpretation would be a bit different now that I have seen what Minerva had just been up to in the Ravenclaw common room. Praising a student for performing the Cruciatus curse, and then using Imperio on an already subdued target! And all in front of young students!"
"Filius," Pomona said firmly. "We have dealt with that, have we not? It does no good to dwell on it. Remember our agreement. What we need to focus on now is ending this constant strife and attacks on Houses." She poured more tea into their cups. "Now, tell me more about our new Headmaster Wood's dilemma. It does seem to me as if he may have trouble understanding what you and Septima tried to tell him at the staff meeting. But this should put paid to at least the most extreme of his proposals."
As predicted, Wood was forced to admit defeat in the end. The work crews returned and removed the obstructions they had placed in the dungeons. Almost immediately, the castle's own alterations disappeared as well.
* * * *
So Slytherin House survived, albeit in a grossly weakened form. Severus sank into a chair and lowered his head into his hands. Greasy hair flopped over his hands and face. Could I have done more? What should I have done? The House was almost destroyed on my watch. Would have been destroyed had Salazar not built in safeguards. He batted away the thought that Slughorn had actually been Head of House. Disgusted with himself, he snorted. I was, after all, the Headmaster. He knew that the students considered him the real Head of Slytherin.
There was no greater honour for a Slytherin, Severus reflected, than to be entrusted with the secrets of Slytherin House and the moulding of its youngest members. And I failed utterly.
Severus snarled and stood abruptly. No, he thought. ENOUGH! Guilt is a worthless emotion. Nobody knew that better than Severus. Guilt had led him to disregard the primary Slytherin Directives, the basis of everything that led to Slytherin greatness. Yes, it had been essential to Slytherins that the Dark Lord be brought down...he was as much (or more) a menace to them as Dumbledore. Yet guilt had clouded his judgement and led him to trust a man he knew from personal experience could not be trusted. Guilt had led him to do that man's bidding at the expense of his charges.
It was time. Severus nodded. Time to stop drifting and accept his responsibilities. After all, Loyalty to those deserving is more admirable than loyalty to self, and the needs of the House outweigh the needs of one's self.
And he would start by returning to Hogwarts to see just where things really stood. There was a chance that he would be revealed, Severus realized. But he had nothing to fear, really. He had largely left the wizarding world, except for his brewing and a few contacts. But that was more a preference to put all that behind him rather than necessity. Along with the Malfoys, he had been cleared in the farce of show trials held after Voldemort's death, in large part due to Potter's testimony. And yet, in the end, Lily's son had shown he had not learned a thing about the danger of branding any one group as suspicious or Dark by nature. He glared at the Daily Prophet, recalling the enthusiastic support Potter had shown for the Ministry's actions. But perhaps others might be more rational.
* * * *
Severus stayed off the road as he approached Hogwarts. While many of the castle's inhabitants were friendly towards him, he did not relish the thought of confronting Wood at the main gates. And so Severus trudged through the snowdrifts, an icy wind cutting through his thin gloves and fluttering the hood he had pulled low over his head. He angled across the fields just outside the old wards as he headed for the edge of the Forest.
Severus paused and studied the castle. The repairs had been done well. But, according to his informants, the repairs had effected little change in the ancient magic protecting the core of the castle. Granted, some of the ward systems added by each Headmaster or Headmistress to protect more recent additions to Hogwarts had been stripped away and replaced. Some of that magic had been badly damaged during the last battle, leaving the wings vulnerable to attack. The repair crews had raised temporary wards during the construction, but without a Headmaster entirely acceptable to the castle, no one could raise truly effective wards for the "new" Hogwarts additions.
So with the ancient wards now paramount, Severus hoped several places in the castle's defences would be open to him as a Slytherin Head of House, a title one never fully relinquished. The castle herself might well be helpful, if descriptions of the castle's reaction to Wood was anything to judge by.
His former students would have been startled, to put it mildly, to see the way Severus broke into a genuine smile, tinged with satisfaction, as he slipped through the wards at the edge of the Forest. He tapped his head and whispered a Disillusionment charm. He turned, swept his wand in a wide arc, and nodded smugly as the snow completely covered his footprints. It wasn't that he had anything to hide, he reasoned. He just had no real desire to see anyone for now. And it was always satisfying to use his own, private spells. He'd perfected this one during the war in order to conceal his comings and goings.
All his years of prowling the castle patrolling for misbehaving students stood him in good stead as Severus slipped soundlessly into the entry, down the stairs, and through the dungeon corridors. It was early evening, dinner hour for students and staff, and there was no one to observe as the Bloody Baron approached him. He reached up and pulled his scarf down below his chin.
"Baron," Severus murmured with a half bow.
"It is good to see you again in these halls, Severus," intoned the Baron with a stately bow of his own. "Slytherin is in need."
Severus sighed. His voice was a harsh whisper. "We will speak later, Baron. For now, I have an immediate destination in mind."
"Of course," the Baron replied. "The way is clear to you, as it has always been to the Head of our House. And since there has been no replacement--"
"What do you mean by that?" Severus interrupted sharply.
"Merely that since the man who now claims to be the new Head of Slytherin is actually," the Baron shuddered slightly and lowered his voice, now dripping with distaste, "a Gryffindor, you remain the true Head of Slytherin House."
Severus felt the familiar ire and accompanying bile rise in his throat. Muttering a disgusted expletive, he strode rapidly down the corridor, no longer bothering to maintain the silence of his passage. He did not even break stride as he entered the Slytherin common room, the door having opened as he approached, and stormed across the room to a niche tucked away under the stairwell leading to the boys' dormitories. After stepping inside what appeared to be a small closet and shutting the door behind him, Severus closed his eyes and, with a heavy sigh, thought, Calm. Control. He raised a fist and rapped a pattern sharply on the stone in front of him. A doorway opened and Severus stepped through into the dark room beyond.
Shivering a bit in the chill, Severus lowered his hood. With a wave of his hand and a nonverbal Incendio, a fire roared to life in the hearth. He glanced around the room in the flickering light. After confirming he was alone, Severus relaxed. Fingers stiff from the cold fumbled to remove his gloves and unwind his scarf. He tossed his cloak aside and sank onto a nearby settee, leaning his head back with a gusty sigh.
Suddenly, Severus snorted. Good God, Snape, you are pathetic! he berated himself. You do nothing but sigh, mope about and feel sorry for yourself. Get it together! His head snapped up and he surveyed his familiar surroundings.
The room was circular, with heavy shelves covering almost half the wall space and containing an assortment of books, curios, House memorabilia and, carefully concealed, no few Dark objects. Several comfortable chairs and settees were arranged haphazardly around the edges of the room. A large, round table was in the center, surrounded by chairs: one large and imposing, the others smaller and less ornate. A huge fireplace with an ornate mantle covered the section directly opposite. Above the mantelpiece, a frame held a parchment brown with age. Preservation spells only went so far, mused Severus. He could recite the contents of that parchment without so much as a glance. The Slytherin Directives, taught to every first year Slytherin, and reinforced each year. These were the principles that enabled Slytherin House to withstand the jealousy, contempt, and antagonism of those outside the House, as well as the rivalries that threatened to rip it to pieces from within.
His gaze returned to the circular table. How many meetings had he held here? Not having been a prefect, Severus had been unable to enter the room until becoming Head of House. Oh, he had known it existed, being more observant than his more comfortable, pureblood housemates.
Severus had known there was a room like this, hidden away and accessible only to Slughorn and his prefects, hosting gatherings even more exclusive than those of the Slug Club. He had quickly understood there was some place that Lucius and the other prefects went when they wanted to relax or have real study time, a luxury not available to Slytherin prefects in their common room, where they were needed to monitor the rivalries of their housemates, or in the library, where they were needed to protect (or at least try to protect) their housemates from the animosities of the rest of the school. Perhaps if Lucius had not taken him under his wing as he had, Severus might not have realized the room existed. But as a young student, he had always noticed when Lucius was not there, missing that comforting presence in the overwhelming chaos of Hogwarts.
He moved to stand on the massive fur rug in front of the fire. Susceptibility to the cold was one of the unfortunate consequences of his injuries, and he held his hands out as close as he dared to the fire to warm them. As an uncomfortable prickling sensation heralded a return of warmth to his extremities, Severus studied the Directives. Ironic, really, that they were put to paper by a Snape. Well, a Snape-Ellis. He had no idea if the man was a relative, and certainly his father would never had admitted it if he had known of any wizarding background or relatives.
Before becoming Head of House and first entering this room, Severus had not realized just who had taken the time to codify the Directives. In his student days, the prefects taught them to the younger students by rote. He doubted that many students other than the prefects even realized that the parchment existed. But it had been useful for his purposes to make that fact known to his students and to post a duplicate copy in the common room. By then, blood status was much more important and it was convenient to allow others to assume a long-standing and unbroken wizarding line whose branches included both Dorian Snape-Ellis and Severus Snape. And, of course, most of his old housemates who could have definitively said otherwise were either insane or dead by that time.
When Severus had first come to Hogwarts, his blood status had not mattered much. Any stigma from being a half-blood was more than overshadowed by his poverty. He had not even had the dubious dignity of being working-class poor. His father had not managed to keep any job for long, and it had showed in the clothing Severus wore, his speech, his gait, his mannerisms. Everything about him had screamed poverty, and incompetent poverty at that. Slughorn had taken one look at him and promptly banished him as far away as possible from his Slug Clubbers. It hadn't mattered how well Severus did in any of his lessons, how much promise he showed. Slughorn had recognized immediately that here was a boy who had no connections and no real hope of forming any. What a disgraceful excuse for a Slytherin Slughorn had been. Severus sneered.
Now, Lucius, on the other hand, was a Slytherin born and bred. He had, it seemed, not only learned the Directives by rote but had adopted them wholeheartedly. And so, he had taken under his wing a shy, awkward, socially incompetent eleven year old dressed in near rags. Severus had been openly suspicious and demanded, from time to time, to know just what Lucius was playing at. And Lucius had always raised one eyebrow, in a move Severus assiduously copied, and replied, "Don't you remember Directive Ten? And have you not yet realized that we are only as strong as our weakest link?"
Severus shook his head. Lucius could have benefited from a little of the old Snape suspicion born of poverty, as well remembering Directives One and Three, before falling under Voldemort's influence. By the time Lucius realized during the first war just what his "Dark Lord" was, he was in too far. Severus wondered if Dumbledore or, for that matter, anyone in the Order realized just how relieved the Malfoys and most of the Death Eaters had been once the shock of Riddle's first defeat had dissipated and they were able to lead normal lives. But by the time Voldemort came back...
Severus whirled at the sound of a faint rapping, his wand springing into his hand. The door opened and a figure stepped into the room.
"Hello, Severus." Narcissa Malfoy's voice was gentle as she removed her cloak. Severus raised an eyebrow.
"Narcissa," he replied in his hoarse whisper, "you do not appear surprised to see me."
"No, I have the advantage there, I think. The Baron and I spoke when I arrived, and he mentioned you might be here as well."
Severus suppressed a flash of annoyance. The Baron had no bloody business sharing that with anyone, he thought. He stiffly stowed his wand as Narcissa also moved to stand before the fire.
"I must confess to some surprise, however," Narcissa commented. "I have not seen you since Lucius died. I understand you have not visited Draco, either." She regarded him steadily. Severus shifted uncomfortably.
"Narcissa --" he began, but she interrupted.
"Don't," she said. Narcissa turned and levitated a chair to sit in front of the fire. Settling herself in the chair, she continued, "It was difficult at first. I married Lucius immediately upon leaving Hogwarts, so this is the first time I have ever lived alone. Not counting Lucius' stay in Azkaban, of course."
"Of course," Severus echoed. Narcissa frowned.
"I am also somewhat surprised to hear you. Have you not sought treatment for your throat? Surely it cannot be comfortable to spend all your time unable to speak much above a whisper?"
This time, Severus was not able to suppress his annoyance. A brief look of satisfaction flashed across Narcissa's face and then was gone, replaced by a bland one of mild interest.
Severus grimaced. "I have sought treatment for it. It seems nothing can be done. I have researched it myself, but..."
"What a great pity," Narcissa murmured. "After all, that was your one great vanity, your sonorous voice, wasn't it, all these years." She smirked as Severus glared and lifted his lip in a sneer. "That may have worked on your students, Severus, but you forget I've known you far longer than they." Narcissa sobered as she glanced around the room.
"Who would have thought it years ago? We all had such dreams. Such hopes. We were going to make the world a better place. Remember when we all really thought that? Lucius was so idealistic and, in many ways, naïve. He clung to the idea that others cared about his silly codes of conduct, not realizing that even Voldemort thought them an amusing anachronism, certainly not something to live by. Then, he let himself be seduced by Dark magic.
"And too late, we realized that the Dark Lord cared for nothing but himself, the star we had hitched ourselves to was an illusion, and the other side was relentless in its hatred of us. Remember, Severus? The period between the wars? You know there were many families who believed the Dark Lord was gone, and were happy for it. Even when he returned, many of the old families would have fought against him or declared neutrality, if only we hadn't been getting constant reports of how bad things were for our children. Really, Severus, what was Dumbledore thinking? Bad enough that he sent our children without adult supervision to a dungeon with a troll running loose in it, but those dreadful Care of Magical Creatures lessons?"
Narcissa gave a delicate shudder and continued, "And then none of the children could stop talking all summer about how Dumbledore took the cup away from them in the middle of the Leaving Feast. And all the stories of horrible teachers, the way Dumbledore made a mockery of studying our traditions by keeping on Binns, of all things, and it just went on and on. It was perfectly clear from the reports we all received from our children that Dumbledore was treating the students other than Gryffindors even worse than he did when we were students. How were we supposed to think we had a viable future with his crowd in charge? Just look at where we are now."
Severus shook his head. "In some ways, Narcissa, I blame myself. I keep asking what more I could have said to Dumbledore or, for that matter, McGonagall, to make them realize that many Death Eaters from the first war were on the cusp of turning away from the Dark Lord. Had they an expectation of a clean slate and fair treatment for their children, well... Instead, all of my attempts to get them to treat the Slytherin students better, my remonstrations over the blatant favouritism shown to Gryffindors, were viewed as nothing more than vindictive rantings born of a schoolboy grudge."
Severus trailed off and Narcissa nodded. She paced as she spoke. "And so we were destroyed. Lucius slid ever farther into the depravity that cost my own family everything, and I am left with so little I cannot even give my daughter-in-law the gift she deserves to honour the birth of my first grandchild." Narcissa turned and caught a glimpse of his expression.
"Don't you sneer at me, Severus Snape," she snapped. "I know perfectly well you think that Lucius and I didn't lose much. But it was our responsibility to Draco and our future grandchildren to grow his inheritance, not lose the bulk of it to a corrupt Ministry. And instead, you dealt away all our lives and everything we had, and if Harry Potter is to be believed, all for your little Mudblood --"
"Don't you dare call her that, Narcissa! You have no right --"
"Right! You date to speak to me of rights! How could you, Severus? She treated you like dirt! Lucius was your friend! I can understand your betrayal of the Dark Lord. But Lucius! After everything he did for you?"
"Lucius did nothing for which he did not expect a return --"
"You know that is not true, Severus. And don't you dare insult him like that! Don't forget how long I've known you. I remember perfectly well what you were like when you started at Hogwarts. I've been to your home. What could he possibly have expected as compensation for everything he did for you?" She paused. After a long silence, she snapped, "Well?"
Defeat in every line of his face and the slump of his shoulders, Severus reached an upturned hand out towards her and whispered, "I did what I could, Narcissa. I kept Draco as safe as I knew how. And I protected Lucius from exposure more than once. But towards the end, the Dark Lord was just too unreasonable to listen to any counsel, even when I tried to caution him against torturing Lucius for Bellatrix's failings."
"Oh, Severus." Narcissa took his hand and pulled him towards her. She buried her face against his chest and murmured, "It was so terrible towards the end - my husband was a broken man. I had to be strong, not only for Draco, but for Lucius as well. He was so lost when he came out of Azkaban. Those Aurors are monsters. And then every day, Bellatrix seemed to become even more insane, goading the Dark Lord into more fits of violence, which pushed Lucius ever closer to the edge himself. I know she was jealous when we were younger, but it was so hard to believe that she would set out to destroy her own sister's family. Not my Bella."
Hesitantly, Severus raised his arms to encircle her. They stood in silence. After a few minutes, Narcissa gave a long, shuddering sigh. She raised her head and met his gaze. Severus looked down at her, his expression tender. Narcissa reached up and gently pulled his head down into a kiss.
Severus made a noise low in his throat, broke off the kiss and whispered, "Narcissa, we --"
She placed one finger across his lips. "Shh...." she said. "We are both all alone now. Why should we not take comfort while we may?"
"But...the door--"
"Is sealed. Didn't you realize? The castle sealed this when Wood made a Gryffindor head of our House. Only Slytherin adults may enter now."
With a sigh, Severus surrendered. He cradled her face in his hands and placed a kiss on her brow. His lips moved to her eyelids, then briefly grazed her lips. He gently caught her earlobe in his teeth and her head fell back. Severus undid the catch on her robe and nuzzled the hollow at her throat. Narcissa sank to her knees on the rug, then reached up and caught his hands, pulling Severus down with her. He moved awkwardly, knees creaking as he settled on the rug.
They slowly removed each other's clothes, each taking their time to learn the other's body. At last they were entwined, naked and flushed, on the rug. Narcissa sat up and gazed down at Severus. She moved to straddle him and licked each nipple once in turn, before turning her attention to the hollow at the base of his chest. Severus shifted restlessly and Narcissa's hands drifted to his hips, pressing him down into the rug. "Patience," she counseled.
She glanced down and smirked. "Well, as much patience as you can manage, anyway." She flipped her long, blonde hair over her head and let it fan over his chest and abdomen as she moved further down. She licked once, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, along his length, gratified to see it twitch and grow even more.
"Narcissa..." Severus voice was a strangled moan. His hips jerked and he reached up to grasp her arms. He rolled with her over the rug, landing on his elbow with Narcissa partially beneath him. He swore softly and sat up, grabbing his elbow with his other hand while Narcissa broke into giggles. He glared and opened his mouth, ready to loose a stinging comment. And was completely distracted by Narcissa's body, the way her whole torso moved as she giggled. He shivered as he watched her breasts move, and a genuine, wry smile broke loose despite himself.
"Laugh at me, will you?" Severus growled. "I think I should extract a price for that."
He leaned over her and raised her arms above her head. With a whispered spell, her arms were secured. Narcissa's smile faltered, and she looked questioningly at him.
"So," he murmured, "where to begin?"
His hand skimmed lightly down her side to rest briefly on her hip. She raised it suggestively.
"Now, now," he said. "Were you not just counseling patience?"
His hand skimmed slowly up her other side to pause at her breast.
"Perhaps?" Severus whispered. He nodded, and trailed his fingers lightly over the breast. He straddled her, pinning her legs, and gently touched the tips of both breasts with his hands. He watched with fascination as her flushed deepened, suffusing her alabaster skin. He leaned down and nuzzled the hollow between her breasts, then suckled at each in turn. He tweaked one nipple roughly in his fingers, while blowing gently on the wetness on the other. Narcissa cried out, her body arching and trying to twist, but held between her restrained arms and his weight. A satisfied smirk was his response, at which Narcissa sneered. Severus raised one eyebrow and looked down her body.
"Now then," he murmured, and shifted to lower his head to her navel. One hand remained on her breast, idly playing with the nipple, while the other hand moved to her hip. He dipped his tongue in her navel. She shivered, but made no other response.
"Guess not, hmm?" Severus said and he raised his head to meet her heated eyes. The hand on her hip drifted down her leg and then skimmed up the inside of her thigh. Her hips rose as he reached almost idly between her legs. He circled her nub and whispered, "My, we are enjoying ourselves, aren't we?"
With a huff of frustration, Narcissa said, in a deceptively demure tone, "Severus, darling. I would appreciate it if you could skip the commentary and get on with it." She ground out the last few words as Severus increased the pressure of his hand. He smiled.
"As you wish," Severus replied mockingly. He shifted, reaching down and raising her legs. She wrapped them around him in an attempt to draw him closer. He resisted for a brief moment and then, with a groan, plunged into her in one swift movement. Narcissa cried out, and he paused for a moment, buried within her. Then he slowly pulled out and began to stroke evenly, his lust heightening as he watched her breasts jiggle with each stroke, enjoying the evidence of his power. He moved faster and faster, almost overwhelmed by the sensation. He paused, reached down and pulled her legs over his shoulders, opening her fully to him. She began to mewl urgently, and he reached down and circled her nub as he continued to stroke. Finally! She cried out and he felt her contract around him. His hips snapped sharply twice more and he buried himself deep, lost in the sensation of his own orgasm.
As he slipped out of her a moment later, she said drily, "Now would be a good time to let loose my arms." Abashed, he whispered the countercharm and she drew him into her embrace.
The fire gradually died as they dozed, entwined together on the rug. Severus woke first and, retrieving his wand, stoked the fire and murmured several cleansing charms. Narcissa's eyes fluttered open as he leaned over and gently kissed her.
She stretched and, wincing, said, "We really aren't as fit as when young, are we?"
He stood, knee popping, and paused in retrieving their clothing. "No, Narcissa," he whispered in reply. "But at least we survived, and we're fit enough, now aren't we?"
They smiled companionably at each other before sobering.
"We need to act soon, Severus."
Severus sighed, and shaking his head, whispered, "I know."
Narcissa asked ruefully, "Is there really nothing that can be done for you? It is quite jarring to hear that whisper from you, given how beautiful your voice was."
"No, it appears not. It's the cumulative result of nerve damage from the venom and structural damage to the larynx. Perhaps I could do more research, but I just have not done so." He smirked. "The Muggles where I live call me 'The Whisperer'. They seem to think I speak this way just to be annoying."
"You? Purposely annoying? Now, how could anyone ever suspect such a thing of you?" Narcissa laughed.
"I really cannot imagine." Severus moved to sit in one of the armchairs.
"Narcissa," he began somewhat hesitantly, "do you have any contact with Arthur Weasley? His mother was a Black after all, even if disowned. And I know you kept in contact with Andromeda, even if you never admitted so much."
"I may have some contact," Narcissa admitted. "But you misunderstand his position, Severus. Don't forget he is married to Molly Prewett. She has her own standing now in wizarding circles, and a more vindictive witch never lived. Between her own position as the last known Prewett and her daughter's advantageous marriage, they have their own influence, which they have not hesitated to use to undermine any attempts to treat Slytherins equally. Indeed, I believe from what information I have gleaned that much of what is attributed to Harry Potter actually comes from Ginevra Weasley Potter, and he goes along for the sake of peace at home."
"Surely not," Severus scoffed.
"Oh, yes." Narcissa nodded. "But then, you men always do have a tendency to underestimate women. Look to undermine Molly and Ginny Weasley...they are very damaging to us all. Draco used to relay stories of how horrible the younger Weasleys were. I discounted them, because he was so like his father. Idealistic, and prone to exaggerate the worst aspects of anyone not wholeheartedly adhering to his views. Don't look at me like that, Severus. Just because I'm a mother and protective of my son does not mean I am blind to his faults.
"But that is one the keys to our first steps to success. Always remember, Severus: women will do whatever is necessary to protect the men they love."
Narcissa faltered and her gaze softened at Severus' expression. "Oh, Severus, I am sorry. But we cannot change what is in the past. I am not asking you to forget it, but you know we must now look towards the future. Start with Flitwick, that's my advice."
"Flitwick," Severus whispered, startled.
"Yes, Flitwick. I understand that he has already been in contact with you about the castle," Narcissa stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "If my hunch is correct, you will find that he has a great deal of information about just what went on in Ravenclaw on the day of the Battle of Hogwarts. And some of it could be quite damaging to certain individuals. In fact, if I am not mistaken, he has already made use of his knowledge... But I will say no more on that. You must approach him directly yourself. And it must be you, Severus. He still feels a debt born of regret for mistrusting you so."
Severus stood and squared his shoulders. He felt lighter somehow. And it was not just the sexual release. He felt renewed, as if he had a purpose again. Now to contact Filius. He stared at the fire, contemplating different approaches...
......
Footnote:
I first read the Slytherin Directives in Theatresm's wonderful story, "Brave New World." At the time, many believed Severus Snape to be a pureblood. However, we know he is not. We also do not know whether there were any Wizarding Snapes before him. Given JK Rowling's statements regarding the ancestry of Muggleborn witches and wizards, it is entirely possible that Wizards and Witches would have had the name Snape in an earlier time long forgotten by most.
Slytherin Directives
As set forth by Salazar Slytherin
Codified from oral tradition by Dorian Snape-Ellis, 1692
1. Trust no one. 2. Know thyself. 3. Question all motives, even thine own. 4. Divulge nothing to Enemies save misinformation. 5. Never take by force what may be acquired through stealth or persuasion. 6. Prize Honour above all. Once lost, it can never be regained. 7. Power is better than Recognition. 8. Purity of purpose is better than willingness to compromise. 9. Loyalty to those deserving is more admirable than loyalty to self. 10. The needs of the House outweigh the needs of ones' self. 11. The needs of kith and kin outweigh the needs of ones' self. 12. That which does not kill you outright, makes you stronger.
Dorian Snape-Ellis (1631-1716): Father Peregrine Ellis, Mother Honoria Snape. Slytherin Prefect 1647: Hogwarts Head Boy 1648; teacher of Transfigurations, Hogwarts, 1674-1716; Head of Slytherin House, 1692-1716. Killed in the Fourth Goblin Uprising of 1716.