I’m
going to take my time – I have all the time in the world to make you mine. It
is written in the stars above. The gods decree you’ll be right here by my side,
right next to me. You can run, but you cannot hide. Don’t say you want me,
don’t say you need me, don’t say you love me, it’s understood. Don’t say you’re
happy out there without me, I know you can’t be ‘cause it’s no good.
DEPECHE
MODE – No Good
Lucius
had survived his stay in Romania. So had the dragon that he had cursed with the
wand he had stolen from one of the monks – he was probably the first delinquent
who had managed to be thrown out two weeks before his scheduled release.
Abraxas had fumed with anger and threatened to make his son spend the remainder
of his summer holidays in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, but had given up at
last. The boy was a hopeless case in his father’s eyes anyway.
Narcissa
hadn’t yet come to regret her decision to join up the Sepulture Septuplet –
even though she didn’t stop mocking the silly name, just like her new ‘pals’. As her first, and so to speak
initial, act, she had jinxed the Sorting Hat – it had consequently lost its
voice, desperately trying to cry out to which houses the students ought to go,
but not succeeding. One can’t lip-read from a piece of talking headgear. She
was more than just a little proud that even Dumbledore himself had needed half
an hour to fix the hat again, and that both Lucius and Damocles had recommended
her most warmly had been another source of secret joy. These guys knew their
jinxes after all, didn’t they?
The
school year meandered along like every other, if not quite as unpleasantly from
Narcissa’s point of view as the previous four. Lucius had not exaggerated his
praise – they did have fun indeed. They regularly met in various secret places
– abandoned greenhouses, magically enlarged broom-cupboards, somewhere outside
on the extensive grounds or in the attics of the many towers and practised or
downright invented spells together. They planned pranks to disrupt their
classes, to annoy teachers or to get back on some students, or other Houses
altogether, mostly Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. One could normally tell who was
the originator of a certain scheme. Damocles’ and Narcissa’s ploys usually were
the most subtle, and if one wanted to call it that, intellectual. Bertie had a
deft hand for intricate mechanisms, Lucius was apt with powerful, yet elegant
spells, Graham was more simple-minded but had a genuine sense of humour
singling him out. Horatio’s and Evan’s pranks, at last, were usually the most
vicious, which didn’t really surprise anyone. They were the youngest of the
boys and what they lacked in the elders’ experience and knowledge, they tried
making up with ferocity. Also they always attempted to prove themselves,
causing Narcissa to smirk pitifully, Lucius and Damocles to roll their eyes,
Bertie to give them long lectures and Graham to rap them on the heads.
“Stop
it!” Horatio shouted one afternoon and slapped Graham’s hand away.
For good
measure, he received another headbutt for his obstinacy, and Bertie gnarled,
“You are so stupid, Gibbs, I cannot fathom how you manage to find your own
arse! You make the Aubrey brothers look like true intellectuals.”
“And
why’s that!”
“You know
what could have happened if that blasted beast had attacked someone?!”
“But it
didn’t!”
“Only
because Cle transformed it in time!”
“I didn’t
hear you making such a fuss when Lucius set free that bunch of cobras!”
Bertie
grinned recollecting the event, but strained to put on a strict face again.
“And you really cannot tell the difference between setting free some snakes in
the staff room, and unleashing a giant scorpion among a group of First Years?!
Pal, you’re even thicker than I had given you credit for!”
Horatio
put on a pout and Lucius asked pensively, “Is it possible to trace that
scorpion back? Did someone see you, Gibbs? Could old McGonagall…”
“I’m not
that stupid!” the boy snapped, hurt.
“Don’t
you get stroppy with me, pal. I’m trying to keep your arse safe.”
“Oh, is
that so! I got the impression you’re more worried for your own arse!”
Lucius
smiled, but it was a cold, dangerous smile. “True. I’m not keen on getting into
trouble over such a matter. You know what could have happened?! Do you really
want to get expelled?! Do you want us all to be expelled?!”
“But
nothing did happen, and none of us will be thrown out either! You’re just happy
to have found an opportunity to lord over us once more!”
Oh well,
after this little incident, a period of coolness ensued, and Narcissa had much
more time to mind her own businesses again. Oddly though, she didn’t enjoy her
regained freedom as much as she would have expected. How quickly she had got
accustomed to having the boys around her, sharing a laugh, a joke, a prank...
At least, she had Severus’ company. He fulfilled every hope she had put in him.
His hexes had always been excellent, but she had to credit Lucius Malfoy for
refining the boy’s skills in that quarter further. Severus’ potions were worthy
of a Fourth Year, at least – actually, half of Narcissa’s own classmates from
the fifth year couldn’t have matched him. He eagerly picked up on any book
recommendation Narcissa made, and also developed a bit more self-confidence,
standing up to his ill-willed roommates with seeming indifference. Seeming indifference, but she trusted he
would in time master true
indifference, as well.
Fortunately,
most Slytherins left him alone nowadays. His curses were famous despite his
tender age, and that the great Lucius Malfoy had him under his wing made the
members of their House refrain from
most too overt hostilities. No Slytherin voluntarily got in the way of him. The members of the other Houses –
or more precisely, certain members of Gryffindor House – were, deplorably, not
to be impressed by either of the two boys. Sirius Black had his own Septuplet –
well, a quartet, anyhow – and for some reason completely beyond Narcissa’s
grasp, their favourite pastime was making little Severus’ life hell. They
mocked and taunted him whenever they met, they challenged him to fight, and
even if he managed to take down one of them (she was proud of him that he
nearly always managed to curse at
least one of the little beasts in the end), the other three weren’t above
overwhelming him by sheer numbers.
Oh yes, Narcissa
had strongly disliked her cousin before he had ever set a foot into Hogwarts.
But eighteen months into his school time, she positively despised him more
vividly than she had ever thought possible. They were a truly nasty lot. Vain
and full of themselves, skulking through the castle with that sort of swagger
as if they had just vanquished an entire goblin rebel squad! But the very worst
of all was the abominable condescension with which they treated other students.
Narcissa didn’t care for any of them, but she did care for Severus, who was
their favourite target.
She knew
full well that she was considered to be supremely arrogant, too, and she didn’t
mind it. But she only dished out
scathing remarks if pressed, if people didn’t leave her alone! Sirius and his
little gang of miscreants on the other hand would tease other children because
they were just standing there, because they belonged to the wrong House,
because they had a squint, or a leer, because their robes were worn-down or
their hairdo stupid, because someone was a lousy Quidditch player or supported
the wrong team. Sirius always in the foreground with his inevitable buddy
whatshisname, the other two slightly more silent in the background, delivering
the cheers and giggles. Tedious, loathsome, vile little boys, ph! And she was
related by blood to the worst of them!
“I can
teach him a lesson he never forgets,” Lucius offered her time and time again,
and she knew that he could. Knowing him a little better by now, she knew that
he had a formidable knowledge of the Dark Arts already, even though he had
never received any proper training. “Just tell me.”
“You’d
get expelled in a heartbeat.”
“I
remember a time when that seemed more than palatable to you.”
And that
was always the moment when she laughed. “Yes. But now you’re a pal, are you not?”
“I could
teach him the sort of lesson I wouldn’t get expelled for, just a few weeks of
detentions with Pringle.”
“Believe
it or not, Lucius, but that lesson I
can teach him myself.”
“And why
don’t you do it if the little cockroach annoys you so much?”
“Because
I wouldn’t do Severus any favour with it. Because Sirius and his nasty chums
would only torment him the worse, and because it’d be a humiliation for him to
have someone else defend him as if he couldn’t do that himself.”
“He
clearly can’t.”
“He can’t
because it’s four against one. It’s nothing libellous in losing when you’re
thus outnumbered.”
“We could
easily outnumber them in turn, if you
want. One word from you, Cissa –”
“I don’t
curse Second Years, and mind you, neither should you. So unsportsmanlike!”
His lips
twisted to that trademark curl, that always managed to annoy her as much as
intrigue her. When he directed it at her, it was far more friendly though – to
be quite honest, she liked that little curl quite a lot by now. “Unsportsmanlike?’
“It’s
like setting a Doberman on a turtle, Lucius! I won’t lower myself to be on a level with my wretched cousin and
his irksome little friends. And if you want me to hold the tiniest bit of
respect for you, you’ll steer clear of them, too. I worked hard to knock some
self-esteem into Severus’ head, I won’t stand-by watching you taking that away
from him again by acting like his nanny!”
Lucius
didn’t say that he had strong doubts whether the constant humiliation the kid
suffered through by being cursed in every possible and impossible way, was
likely to heighten, or even maintain his self-esteem,
but he would never openly disagree with Narcissa. He was too grateful that she
was talking to him nowadays, that she bore with his presence and gave him an
occasional smile – or praise. Little Snape was all right, but he wasn’t worth
losing darling Narcissa’s good graces. She was more obstinate than he had
reckoned with anyhow. Salazar knew, Lucius had tried every trick in the book to
get off with her, sod his pledge to leave her alone. The better he got to know
her, the more impossible it was for him to get her out of his head.
Sending her
flowers – she had laughed, and used the two hundred roses for a spell,
entertaining the other students at breakfast by transforming them into rotten
tomatoes, harassing Gryffindor table. He had stopped seeing any other girl – no reaction at all, none whatsoever,
not even the tiniest remark on her
part. He had started dating three
girls a week, even the ugliest, even one of her dorm mates, just to make her
jealous – her only reaction was unveiled, contemptuous ridicule. He read poetry
books, spell books – for heaven’s sake, he had even read some of the Muggle
authors she had praised so warmly – but apart from a benevolent smirk, her
impression hadn’t gone any further than ‘See? I knew you weren’t unintelligent,
Lucius!’
What
could a man do? He had paid her every
compliment ever uttered under the sun – and all of them, all of them, had been absolutely heartfelt and sincere! And did she
ever do as much as listen? Oh, she
did listen, but only to twist and turn the words against him in scorn, or
simply retort, ‘Good one, Malfoy. Finally a remark that you haven’t got out of
‘Ten Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches’!’
The more
she withstood his advances, the more desirable she was to him. He had always
thought she was plain perfect, but little had he known how right this appraisal
had been. Since he had gotten to know her for real…
Ironically,
he frequently forgot how badly he
wanted her, how he craved to touch this delectable body, find out if her skin
felt only half as silky as it looked… Listening to her let him forget to wonder
how it would feel to kiss those rosy lips. Watching her spell work made him
forget to roam her body with his eyes. And the dreams at night when he was
shagging – no, never shagging – not Narcissa, to her he made love in his dreams –
these dreams however had been incrementally supplanted by images where he was
just holding her hand and listened to her and trembled like an aspen leaf
simply because she’d give him one of those indescribable smiles.
He had been
forced to stop going to the potions club nights; he did need his time to
prepare for his NEWTs, and incidentally, Narcissa had anyway offered to study
with him for the exams instead. Share her with Cle, Severus and the bold little
Gryffindor, or have her all for himself – it wasn’t exactly hard to choose, was
it. When she put her hand on his to show him how to move his wrist when cutting
up a flobberworm, or how to squash a scarab most effectively… The way she would
smile at him when some concoction turned out just the way it should. How she
would sit with him outside next to the lake for hours, testing him, actually cheering when he gave a particularly
good answer. It was almost enough to make him the happiest creature on earth. Almost.
The
potions club was flourishing, with or without Lucius’ partaking. Professor
Slughorn couldn’t have been any prouder. He credited himself for being the one
introducing these four prodigious students, just as he was ready to take all
the credit for the youngest Miss Black’s slight defrosting, and young Snape’s
impressive performance. In retrospect, he would claim in all earnestness that
he had immediately recognised the
boy’s destiny for greatness; in his
head it was a matter of truth that he
had been the one to recommend Snape to Malfoy junior and the delightful Miss
Black in the first place.
“Please,
wait a moment, Mr Snape,” old Slughorn cried after class; Severus had just
mastered a particularly difficult soothing potion at the first attempt. “I’ve
got a book that you might want to take a look at.”
The boy
obeyed, grateful, and marvelled at the five-hundred year old tome in his hands
while maundering out of the classroom at last. He willed himself not to give a
start when hearing the all-too-familiar voices behind his back, cackling, and
kept on staring at the open pages.
“Now
here’s an eager beaver, don’t you think, Sirius?”
“What’s
this, Snivellus? Looking for a beautifying potion?”
“No
beautifying potion could help him with that
mug, pal!”
Severus
inhaled deeply like Narcissa had advised him to do, turned around and glared at
the foursome. “Is that all you can come up with, Potter? You’ve been more
inventive than this.”
“Sorry,
swotter, it’s just that your ugly face distracts me so much,” Potter snarled
with a sneer.
“Anything
else? Come on, you can do better, can’t you?”
Black
giggled. “Yes, James, you can do
better!”
The end
of this was, after some more banter, they all snatched their wands. Severus
aimed his new-learnt Twitcher Hex so well that Potter not only lost grip of his
wand, but with the same jerky move slapped his bosom buddy Black on the
pristine cheek. All right, so next thing, Severus found himself on the floor
with a leg-lock curse that Lupin had cast on him. Who could say what would have
happened next, if Professor Slughorn hadn’t been alarmed by the noise from
outside, snatching Potter and Lupin by the nape of their necks and dragging
them upstairs to see their own Head of House, with Pettigrew and Black – who
had his best mate’s fingers imprinted in glowing red on the cheek still – in
their tow. Severus stayed where he was, knowing full well what was expected of
him – Professor Slughorn would give him the same punishment that Lupin, Potter
and Black were in for, but he’d never do that in front of the other House’s students.
In turn for such benevolence, it was an unwritten Slytherin law that the
student in question co-operated, for example by not fleeing the scene of the
crime.
“Severus,
Severus,” Slughorn wheezed and swabbed his forehead when returning and leading
the boy to his office. “You’re one intelligent lad – when will you get it into
your head that you cannot win when
outnumbered four to one?”
“It’s all
just a matter of the more powerful spell, innit?”
The
teacher gave him a sharp, inquisitive glance. “What do you mean?”
The boy
looked bewildered. “Well, like I said – numbers should be no problem if you
have the right spell to neutralise them. Isn’t that right?”
“Oh!”
Slughorn laughed, sounding relieved. “Yes, of course. Neutralise them, yes. Well, you just keep on learning from your
friends Miss Black and Mr Malfoy, it can only do you good.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll
expect you, seven o’clock here in my office, Severus. Bring your dragon-hide
gloves, you’re going to stock up our tar beetle provisions.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was
some justice in this world after all, Severus found out after dinner. He met
Lily in the corridor, who – chuckling gleefully – reported that Potter, Black
and Lupin had got themselves detentions with Mr Pringle, the disgruntled
caretaker, and were in for a night of polishing the flagstone floors without
magic. His own punishment was a piece of cake compared to this, and he thought
that was only fair. He hadn’t started
this brawl, after all!
“Why
don’t you try to get along with them?” Lily asked.
“Why don’t
you ask them to just leave me alone?”
he asked back.
She
grinned and patted his shoulder. “Because you
are smart and reasonable. Talking to Black and Potter – I may as well try
talking to a brick wall!”
She
strode away with that remark, up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, and Severus
watched after her, feeling strangely elated. He was woken from his silent
reverie by another hand on his shoulder, and turning around, he looked into the
piercing grey eyes of his patron.
“I heard
you were looking for an appropriate spell to take down four attackers at once,
kiddo?” Lucius Malfoy curled his lips into a conniving smirk. “Miss Black won’t
have me be your nanny, but I do believe there are a couple of things I can show
you still!”
Severus
smiled back at him. “That – that’d be fabulous!”
“Meet me
in the Common Room once you’re through with your detentions, and I’ll see what
I can do.”
He winked
at the younger boy, and this one gave a laugh, before recomposing his features
into a more serious mode. “Is this something I’d rather not mention to Nar- Miss Black?”
Lucius
sighed and twisted his face. “Let me put it this way – perhaps don’t tell her
for now, and if you are successful in using it, without getting yourself into
more trouble… Well, in that case I’d
be disappointed if you did not let it
slip, my dear boy.”
And with
these words, he did take his leave, smiling just as other-worldly as Severus
had when he had found him.
Incidentally
– it worked. Lucius taught him a jinx, similar to a Shield Charm, that would
sweep any number of people in a certain vicinity off their feet. He took a week
of practising, and the great moment came, Black made a disparaging remark about
Severus’ hair, and after sending them all to the ground indiscriminately, Severus
raised his chin, mocked Potter’s stupid gesture of ruffling his hair, and
turned on his heels to walk away with his head up high without a further
comment.
“I am so
proud of you,” Narcissa commended him with a wide smile. “So proud! I’m always the one to say, ‘Don’t pick up a fight if you
can avoid it,’ but they had it coming. Boy, they had!”
“Actually,
it was Lucius showing me…”
She cast
him an arch glance. “Yes, that’s what I supposed. And why shouldn’t he prove
every now and then that his intellectual range goes beyond catching and
throwing a Quaffle? Every monkey could do the same.”
“I – I
know, it isn’t my place, Narcissa, but… He really isn’t stupid, you know?”
She gave
a dry laugh. “I know that, Severus.
That’s why I find it so unnerving that he wastes it all on useless nonsense.
Look at yourself, look at little Lily Evans – you two are superior to him in
many respects, and you’re five years his junior!” Seeing him blush, she added,
“You are, Severus, never forget that.
You are very special, and I find it admirable that you are willing to improve
still. That’s another thing I want you to always remember – you can achieve
anything you want, if only you set all your capacities in it. Anything, you hear me?”
“You are
very gracious, but I…”
“It says
a lot for you that you wouldn’t see it that way, dear. That is, after all, what
distinguishes you from a guy like Malfoy. He
always thinks the best of himself. Even in his worst moments, he’s inclined to
see the opposite.”
He shook
his head. “Honestly, Narcissa, he’s not half as bad as you – I mean – he’s not
bad at all. He is really nice, you
know? Without him – and you, of course – I’d still be – you know… And –”
Narcissa
felt awkward about the boy’s embarrassment, so she cried lightly, “Nonsense,
Severus, nonsense! Maybe Lucius and I
made things a little easier. Maybe.
Because real talent, and brains, cannot but prevail in the end, and you’ve got
both. Now, you might get the
impression that fancy, expensive clothes count, or handsome faces, or who your
parents are, but that’s really not true. It’s the magic that it all comes down to, and you got plenty of that. I truly thought you knew that
yourself!”
“Well, yes – I mean, I hope it’s like that.”
“See?”
She was satisfied and shot him a warm smile. “I don’t understand what we’re
even arguing about.”
“I merely
meant… You must not always be so hard on Lucius, he really tries to –”
She
didn’t let him finish, her expression suddenly sour again. “Lucius, Lucius!
What does he try, after all! He’s got
everything, everything on a silver
tray – silver?! Make that platinum!
He’s got the talent, and the brains, and for what end does he use them! To
entertain his mates, to play Quidditch, to seduce every stupid girl he comes
across, and if he will invent a
spell, it’s something that’s of no use for anything
good! I mean it, Severus – if you want to follow someone’s example, don’t let
it be Lucius Malfoy’s! That’s a dead end, can’t you see that?”
“I think
he is good,” Severus murmured timidly
but nonetheless stubbornly, not daring to meet her gaze, but feeling obliged to
defend the boy who had done so much for him.
“You do?”
“Yeah!
He’s not evil, he couldn’t be…”
Surprisingly,
she broke out in merry laughter and patted his back. “Of course not! Oh my! I
didn’t mean to say he was evil,
Severus!”
“You
didn’t?” He was confused.
“I said that he’s up to no good,
Severus! There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamed
of in your philosophy!*” Seeing that he got even more
puzzled, she thought she had to elaborate on the point. “Life isn’t about good and evil. As a matter of fact, there is no such thing. They don’t exist
for real! They’re nothing but a human concept – to explain the world, you see?”
He
didn’t, she could tell by his expression, and tried again. “Look… The entire
idea is really archaic – old, overcome,
you understand? It was made up to coax people into a certain type of behaviour.
There’s good behaviour, and bad – meaning: appropriate, or inappropriate, for
the respective person and situation. And what’s considered so always depends on
time, place, the persons involved… It’s all a mere matter of perspective.
Different people, different times, different societies – they all had their
very own idea of good and evil, and little consistency between them, if any at
all. You comprehend this, don’t you?”
He nodded
pensively, and she patted his back once again. “I knew you would,” she said
fondly, proud as usually on her clever little friend.
* ‘There are more things…’ From:
William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I, scene 5
*****
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