Snape the Younger

Generation

Surprise, surprise

"I hate you, Lucius Malfoy! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!"

That was the second last thing Lucius expected when he walked into the dressing room he shared with Narcissa. The last thing was the shoe that flew at his head. He ducked reflexively, exploding the shoe into pieces, then yelled expelliarmus when she went for her wand.

"Narcissa! Control yourself, what do you think you are doing?" he snapped as she flew at him, her fists upraised to beat against his chest until she collapsed in tears on the floor in a huddle.

"I'm going to get all fat and ugly and you will hate me and I will get sick and saggy and, and even get stretch marks! I hate you, Lucius, I hate you so much," she sobbed, then raised drowned eyes up when he made a frustrated noise of incomprehension. "I'm pregnant, damn it!"

Her despairing wail was lost in Lucius' whoop of joy as he lifted her up and swung her around in an exuberant hug. "How fantastic! That is wonderful news, a baby, a new Malfoy! Narcy, how superbly clever you are! When? When will the baby come?"

Narcissa was somewhat surprised at her usually quite reserved husband's evident excitement, her sobs slowing down to sniffles as she tried to think on what the medi-witch had said. In point of fact, she hadn't taken that much notice once the terrible news had been spoken aloud. She'd heard such horror stories over the last few months as first Marta Goyle, then Lucielle Crabbe and finally Rilla Parkinson had succumbed to the rampant pregnancy that was going around. Marta Goyle was living up to her name, always moaning and groaning about swollen feet and cramps in odd places. Mind, if the baby was anything like the father, it was going to rip her internals out when it was born. With that comforting thought, Narcissa collapsed into wails again.

"Oh now, Sweetness, it won't be that bad, really it won't," Lucius said awkwardly, patting her head and fussing uneasily.

"I'll get swollen ankles and my clothes won't fit or anything."

Lucius knew the reply for that one. "Then we shall just have to take you to Paris and get some clothes that do fit. You will be the most beautiful mother-to-be in our whole circle, the trendsetter and the cutting edge of maternity fashion, you'll see. And I bet Severus has a potion for swollen ankles, he seems to have a potion for everything else in his pockets," Lucius coaxed, leading his sobbing wife over to the chaise longue and seating her delicately on the edge before kneeling to take her hands. "Darling, no one will ever be as beautiful as you, no matter how hard they try or what spells they use. And aren't they going to be so put out when you show them how a real witch behaves during the trials and tribulations. You will be a serene and gorgeous mother and you will have the most beautiful little boy ever! Consider the genes he will have, yours and mine, he will be spectacular!"

Narcissa managed to giggle a little. "What if it's a girl?"

Lucius looked dumbfounded for a moment then grinned. "Then Princes and Magi will be queuing up at our door to contract for her hand in marriage, and she will have her pick of swains to tread on as her little heart desires. We will make her a splendid match, so wonderful that it will make every other mother cry with envy."

"Oh, dear Lucius, you are silly at times. I feel much better already. Bella is going to be so mad that I am pregnant and she is not. Don't tell anyone, my dear, but she did tell me in strictest confidence that she made Rodolphus go and buy a potion to see if that would help matters along. Of course it didn't, it just made him walk funny for a couple of days."

Privately Lucius thought it would take much more than a potion to impregnate the solid sadistic frigidness that was his sister-in-law but he had the sense not to say anything to his wife.

~~*~~

Severus transferred the potion into the glass bottles he had prepared, capping and sealing them as quickly and as efficiently as usual. He handed the tray to the hulking man who was waiting to take them, ignoring his constant stream of chatter about his wife and her dedicated trials over the upcoming child. Closing his eyes, he let out a silent sigh as Goyle extolled the virtues of Madame Seglinda's Gentle Soothing Potion for those ladies with an interesting condition. All he really wanted to do was Banish the fatuous idiot into a wall but he managed to restrain himself, mainly because the tray Goyle was holding had enough Incendiary Potion to blow up the whole of the Manor in one felled swoop.

"For Merlin's sake, Goyle," he finally snapped as he finished the last bottle. "If you got the lazy bitch off her hind end and stopped her stuffing her guts with toffees and chocolates you would do her a lot more favours than pushing quackery potions down her throat!"

Goyle jaw dropped then he ground his teeth angrily. "What would you know about it, you, you stupid ... faggot!"

"I know about the eating habits of that spoilt bitch Marta, simply from observing and I know what goes into the potion because that is my business. As for being stupid, sorry wrong end of the scale and as for being a faggot, thank God for small mercies! I am not subject to the machinations of a manipulative, conniving bitch simply because she has chosen to drop a litter that will show all the main features of their parents' gene pools," Severus hissed furiously, snatching the tray and placing it down carefully as Goyle began to growl angrily. "Oh for Merlin's sake, Goyle, either use a known language or get out of my laboratory, you disgust me! And if you draw that wand you had better be very sure you make the first curse count or I will hex you into the next century with no reprieve."

Roaring inarticulately, Goyle swung a fist at Severus' head and Snape cast stupefy on him with barely a second thought. Summoning a house-elf, he asked the small creature to take Goyle back to his own home then deliver the incendiaries to Lord Voldemort's current location, wherever he happened to be. Sinking down onto a stool, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. He had such a damned headache, and all he really wanted to do was crawl into bed with a potion to stave off the migraine he was sure was just around the corner. Unfortunately, he had to attend another meeting with the Registration Bursar who was inquiring into the potions he was pioneering and researching for Abraxas Malfoy's use.

Ever since he had taken over the responsibility for Abraxas' medication, the Bursar had been after him, poking and prying into his research, trying to undermine his methods and ingredients, although why, he wasn't sure. Now the Vice President of the Board of Governors of the College of Potions wanted to hear his 'case', the case of what he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure what he was defending and if he was defending himself for being right or being wrong, or simply for existing! Rubbing his forehead, he dug in a pocket and found an appropriate potion, downing a large dose and hoping it was enough before he apparated out.

~~*~~

Trying things

"Severus Snape, on the 23rd of September you put forward a proposal for a study into the effective control of the course of Perryander's Disease with a view to ease the suffering of the victims. The board gave you permission to do that research on the proviso that you were monitored and your methodology checked and approved by your Research Advisor, is that correct?"

Severus inclined his head in agreement.

"Have you consulted with your Research Advisor?" Hieronymus Pritchard asked silkily, stalking around the pale young man seated on the small hard seat before the desk.

"No, I have not," Snape said flatly.

"What, not once in the past four months?" the Master persisted jeeringly. "And why would that be? Perhaps you think you are more knowledgeable than your tutors, better read and more experienced. Is your arrogance so great that you feel you can ignore the rules and regulations of this College with impunity? Pursue your own interests to the detriment of this institution?" The man was almost screaming as he worked himself into a temper.

A shiver worked its way down Severus' back as old memories tried to crawl up his throat and choke him but never a flick of an eyebrow betrayed him. He opened his mouth to give a reasonable answer, then his temper flashed and he rose to his feet sweeping his robes around himself furiously. "How well you read my mind, you posturing little microbe!" he snarled softly, making the man step back from his fury. "Do I think I am more knowledgeable than my tutor? Yes, I am - in this area - and my Research Advisor, Morton Gaston, acknowledged that fact and recommended me to Medi-Wizard Mezininis Abolontu of the African College of Medicinal Potions who has been supervising me ever since. Do I ignore the rules and regulations of the college? In what way? By attending the lectures and correcting the bloody textbooks so that future generations of potions students are not subjected to the misinformation and sheer stupidity I and my fellows have had to suffer? Do I pursue my own interests to the detriment of this College? Interesting choice of phrase you have there. The College was written up in Potions International as at the forefront of cutting-edge research, thanks to the high calibre of its students and their current research. And whose names were on that list, could it be Anablie Parsons, Telemark Bladen, Helga Morton-Jones and oh, let me see, Severus Bloody Snape. Now I suggest you climb back into your hole and pull the lid in after you before I blast you to Hell and gone!"

"How dare you!" Pritchard gasped, going for his wand but a burst of wandless magic flung him away, bouncing him off the wall and holding him suspended in mid air.

"I have a headache, a precursor to a migraine, so I am not about to play with my prey," Severus murmured almost gently. "In fact I am going to put you down and you are going to go away and leave me alone. I am going to go away and leave you alone and you are not going to cross my path again. You will not play your power games around me because next time, I might not have a headache and then I might just feel like playing a little game with you, which I guarantee you will not like at all. At the very least, I will change my Alma Marta to the European School of Potions, taking my research, my expertise and my money with me. At worst, I will remember I was raised to be a vampire. Do we understand each other?"

Pritchard's eyes bugged out as the vice of magic holding his body tightened until he nodded frantically. Dropped unceremoniously, he scooted back on his arse until his shoulders hit the wall and he curled in a tight ball. He stayed like that long after the door slammed and the vision from hell was long gone but it revisited regularly in the pompous man's nightmares.

~~*~~

"Severo! Where are you? What are you doing?" Lucius demanded as he breezed into the laboratory, almost skipping in his excitement.

"I'm brewing, as odd as that activity would be, seeing as this is a potions laboratory."

"Oh, har har," Lucius laughed and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the cauldron. "Severus, the most fantastic news, we're pregnant! Isn't that wonderful? Just think a baby Malfoy to carry on the Family Name! I told my father and he is so.... What are you looking at me like that for?"

Severus sat down on his stool with a plop and shook his head slightly. "How? I mean, we weren't careful or anything but there's no history of it in your family, is there? Or did you fail to tell me something? I mean, not that I'm..."

"What are you rabbiting on about, Severo? Narcissa is pregnant and you are wondering if we were careful? Is there something you want to tell...? Oh good Lord! Severo! Oh, that is just too funny! Did you think I meant that I was pregnant?" Lucius dissolved into fits of laughter, unable to go any further.

Severus let out a long, silent sigh, amazed at the rush of disappointment he felt. He had never thought of having a child of his own, the simple mechanics of the process were totally abhorrent to him but the thought of Lucius actually falling pregnant.... Killing the thought instantly, he tried to put a good face on it but Lucius had caught him brooding and was watching him speculatively. Shrugging, he mustered a smile. "It was just a passing thought, glad you found it so amusing."

"Oh Severus, you are such a strange creature at times!" Lucius smiled, sitting down beside him and curving an arm around his shoulders. "Does the thought of a child upset you so much, will you hate me forever? How about... how about you stand Godfather for the little tyke, whether it is a boy or a girl. Yes, that's a good idea; you will be the Godfather and watch over the child. I know you will be a good guardian for him and protect him with all of your heart, even if I can't. And it will give you a share in the child; it's the best I can do. After all, if not for you, Narcissa would have been killed last month," Lucius said depreciatingly, giving his shoulders a squeeze. "Can you be happy for me?"

Severus snorted and smiled more genuinely. "Of course I can. Congratulations to both of you. At least Narcissa will make a more sensible mother-to-be than those over-fed cows in the breeding circle."

"What?" Lucius looked up at him in puzzled inquiry.

"Oh, the Crabbe-Goyle-Parkinson Triad, and a bigger bunch of whining, maudlin soft-shells I have never come across! Merlin, to hear them talk you would think they were hatching a Thousand Cuts Curse rather than a bloody baby. I'm afraid I got a little snippy with Goyle the other day and had to send him home Stupefied."

"Really? Tell me?" Lucius settled down to share all the latest gossip.

~~*~~

Shopping with Abraxas

Abraxas Malfoy paced down Diagon Alley in a sedate procession, his attendant following him like a bridesmaid, as he leaned on Severus' arm for support. Not that he would admit that he needed it yet, it was just a precaution. Still, it was rather gratifying that people melted out of the way as they passed, whether from him or from Severus' intimidating presence, he was not sure. It had taken quite some convincing to secure Severus' agreement to the outing and even as they walked he was sure he could hear glass chiming in Snape's robes. The boy was such a worrywart!

He had originally wanted to go to Harrods for the shopping but that suggestion was refuted by both Severus and, when he appealed to a higher court, the head medi-wizard of St Mungo's gave a definite veto too. So he had to be content with searching for the perfect present in Diagon Alley. When both the medical community and Severus, who acted like his personal medi-guard, had suggested he shop by catalogue, he had refused the idea immediately. Just this once he wanted to get away from the house that had been his home for the past seventy years. He smiled slightly as a passing witch gave him a respectful bow, returning the greeting with grave dignity. Yes, getting out and about was just the thing to lift his spirits! And besides, he had a grandson to shop for, or perhaps a granddaughter.

Severus monitored his lover's father very closely, ready to portkey him home the instant he showed any sign of tiredness. He understood and sympathised with Abraxas' desire to get away from the confines of the Manor, but he didn't like it! Not one bit! As a safeguard, he had every conceivable potion he could think of secreted away in his pockets, ready to treat any problem that came up. He had even cast a touch-me-not spell over his robes so that people automatically avoided him and, in doing so, avoided getting too close to his charge and spreading their nasty germs. The attendant, a silent, strong man who never spoke or made a complaint, had his orders to watch his master like a hawk and signal Severus if there was any change in their patient's condition at all!

Abraxas stopped dead in his tracks and pointed at a shop window. "There," he said, ignoring the rest of the foot traffic as he turned to enter the small, seemingly deserted shop. Severus put his heart back where it belonged and followed him in with a sigh of discontent. Why couldn't Abraxas be like every other Pureblood and use a catalogue to do his shopping!

The bell over the door brought a very young witch out from the back of the shop, her smile as wide as her face. She was a happy little soul, welcoming them with a bonhomie that was genuine and even heartfelt as she introduced herself as Dorcas Golding, the proprietor. Abraxas sat down on the chair she indicated and even accepted the cup of tea she offered before she inquired what she could do for him. Severus took the other chair and simply watched impassively as the girl seemed to spread good cheer around her like pixie dust. When Abraxas said he wanted something very special for his first grandchild, she clapped her hands in delight and giggled, jumping up to pull a couple of boxes down and bring the merchandise to the table for his perusal. Severus approved of that, as Abraxas didn't have to move about, simply asking to look as something and the enthusiastic child went running off to fetch it.

Within ten minutes the whole table and the floor was piled with the paraphernalia people seemed to think made suitable gifts for a baby. There were stuffed toys, miniature wands, silver Naming cups and rattles in a bewildering variety of shapes and sizes. Even Dorcas' vast amount of bubbling energy was beginning to flag by the time Abraxas indicated he had chosen something. Severus glared at him, shaking his head in resignation as the older man merely smiled and began to point, the pile of approved merchandise outweighing the pile of rejected articles.

"Abraxas, the child has to be able to get into his room," Severus reminded him with a grim smile. "You have chosen enough silverware to last him his lifetime."

"I won't be around to see his lifetime, now will I? So, indulge me, my dear Severus, indulge me."

"Don't I always," Severus grumbled but did not say another word over the old man's extravagance.

When the girl went to put away the final stuffed toys, Severus stopped her, moving a fluffy stuffed dragon into the keep pile. Abraxas smiled at his slightly pained look and burst out laughing when he shrugged nonchalantly. "It has to be better than the traditional teddybear," he defended his choice, allowing a long finger to stroke the fluffy head. The tiny dragon began to purr and Severus' eyebrow shot up in surprise.

"Depending on the age of the child and the child's mood, our Dragon Scale toy can purr, sing, dance or shoot fire, only a little bit of fire," she added when both men looked askance of her.

"Trust you to pick an edged stuffed character," Abraxas laughed, then waved to the pile of things still decorating the table and floor. "Send them to Malfoy Manor," he said off-handedly, making the girl gape then nod quickly.

Dorcas had never expected them to take all the things they had selected, not in a million years. It was the biggest sale she had ever made and was the difference between success and failure of her newly opened shop. Nodding quickly, she waved her wand and brightly coloured boxes quickly engulfed the items, ribbons wrapping themselves into bows around the boxes. She would have to hire extra post owls but that was all to the good, the news would soon go around and the publicity was invaluable!

"Where to now?" Severus asked as he helped the old man to rise, holding his arm until he was steady on his feet.

Abraxas pulled his robes straight and smiled so mischievously he looked barely his son's age for a moment. "Let's eat some ice cream, shall we?"

Severus laughed as he led the way.

~~*~~

Lord Voldemort frowned when his faithful Abraxas told him Lucius was going to be a father, probably in May or June the following year. It was his experience that men who were expecting an addition to the family were not at their best when away from that family. As duty conscious as Lucius was, he would still be conscious of his duty to his family first and foremost. That Familial Duty was a fact of Pureblood life that Lord Voldemort had learned to deal with even if he didn't appreciate being second to anything. He knew Lucius was not in love or even particularly infatuated with his wife, but she was his possession and the child was the most important part of the relationship, the promise of continuation of the Family.

"This is not very convenient," he said flatly, staring the man down. "I have had various plans made that include Lucius' participation. I am not in the habit of changing those plans to suit just one person."

Abraxas shivered at the implied threat. "Perhaps Severus..." he murmured softly, keeping his eyes down and offering no challenge to his Lord's authority.

"Ah yes, Severus, I was planning to introduce him to the, shall we say, bulk of our work, slowly. There is something delightfully fresh and honest about Severus and it seems a pity to bring it to a more educated level too quickly."

"Perhaps if he were taken to a low level meeting first to show him how common people were, how uncouth they could act, he would begin to appreciate the more restrained and refined behaviour of the upper echelons when he encountered them."

Voldemort pursed his lips for a second then smiled slightly. "Ah Abraxas, I will miss your counsel when you are gone."

"Glad to be of service, my Lord," Abraxas managed to force a smile to his lips.

Lord Voldemort smiled back, knowing how much effort the pleasantry cost his underling. Sometimes it was fun to tease people, prod them to see what sort of reaction a remark could wring from them. The trick was to observe closely without seeming to observe at all, if a genuine hint at their real thoughts was to be gained. All Pureblood scions learned early in their lives to control their immediate impulses and make sure they never betrayed their true thoughts or feelings to anyone. Sometimes, he thought, they did not even know themselves what they were truly thinking and feeling from one day to the next. Purebloods were such fun to play with!

~~*~~

The Meeting

The owl was a common barn owl, nothing out of the ordinary nor was the scroll attached to his leg, until it was opened. Severus studied the note carefully; cast acclaro over it but nothing special was revealed, just an enigmatic note that told him to bring one gallon of Cheering Potion to the Town Hall meeting rooms in Leeds on the second of the month at six thirty pm. Only the seal on the bottom of the parchment was unusual, rather similar to the Slytherin crest he was familiar with but different enough to make him wonder. He was still puzzling over it when he went up to dinner with Abraxas.

"It is Lord Voldemort's own seal," Abraxas said firmly, carving the roast beef and handing Severus a plate of bloody slices which made the boy's mouth water. Abraxas thought it was very funny that Severus, who ate fish or chicken and lots of vegetables most of the time, sometimes craved raw, red meat with lots of blood. In actual fact, Severus would probably do better with some fresh blood rather than cooked meat if he would but admit it. However most of the time he treated the craving as a shameful weakness and tried his best to ignore it.

"But a Cheering Potion, Abraxas? What on earth would he want with such a - a cheesy thing. It's a first year sort of brew, for silly girls to experiment with," Severus protested, devouring his meal thoughtlessly. "It's like the Minister for Magic asking for a whoopee cushion, don't you think?"

Abraxas cracked a laugh at the boy's very serious tone, shaking his head at the mental picture his dryly delivered words conjured. "Do you remember how to brew a Cheering Potion my boy? After all, it is rather below your level of expertise these days."

"Oh, I'm sure I could lower myself to do it," Severus smirked as he finished his plate of food and selected some vegetables to finish off with. "I wonder what he wants it for."

"Ah, now that is something you really should not question," Abraxas warned softly.

~~*~~

The town hall was a Muggle venue, Severus discovered as he apparated to the coordinates he had been given, the potion in his pocket. Antonin Dolohov met him in the foyer and led him through to the back stage area where half a dozen wizards and witches were already assembled, including Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. As Severus handed over the potion, they pounced on it, ripping out the seal and pouring it into a very odd contraption. Severus stepped back and watched as Rabastan Lestrange cast a spell over the container, pumping the handle once.

Bella stepped over to Severus and took his arm, hanging off his elbow with a supercilious smirk that made one of Severus' eyebrows raise inquiringly. "You are going to love this," she giggled, a high pitched sound that had little to do with mirth and a lot to do with some potion that made her pupils as big as coins in her eyes. "This audience is made up of the base level of supporters, those who are barely better than Muggles when it comes to magical levels."

"Now, now, my dear, stop hanging all over Severus, you know the boy is innocent when it comes to the wiles of a wicked woman," Rodolphus snickered, snaking an arm around his wife's waist and pulling her close. "Besides, he probably doesn't know what to do with a woman, do you, Se-ve-rus," he drawled in contemptuous amusement.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Only academically, but I'm sure I couldn't do worse than you," he sneered, flipping his cloak around himself with a sneer that shamed them all in its coldness.

Before Rodolphus could snarl a reply, there was a hushed silence as the Lord himself stepped into the backstage area and glanced around, nodding to his cadre of henchmen. "Ah, I see we are all present. Dolohov, I want you and the Lestranges to supervise the dispersal of the potion. Make sure it is a fine mist this time, not like the last lot which fell like rain. Severus, you will come with me. Pull your hood up and do not show your face. I want you to be the anonymous man in the shadows," he smiled as he patted the boy's shoulder in passing.

Severus nodded his agreement, falling into step with his lord, a half a pace behind his left shoulder. He was quite surprised when the Lord took a seat on a throne-like affair in the centre of the stage and indicated he was to step up to his left. On the right was someone he hadn't met before, Lord Voldemort addressed him as Karkaroff but didn't introduce them as a bell softly chimed and the lights beyond the heavy curtain dimmed. There was a swish of runners and the curtains drew aside, music swelled from an unseen source and Lord Voldemort raised his hand in greeting to a packed but unseen audience beyond the footlights. The swell of cheers and clapping was almost deafening as the Lord bowed slightly and rose to acknowledge the audience as if they were important to him. Severus and Karkaroff stood absolutely still, two tall, black-clad shadows in the lee of the throne.

For Severus it was a most peculiar time, listening to the Lord preach increased privilege for those of the world with magic and decreased privilege for those of the world without it. He spoke of a grassroots movement toward a better world of more money, more goods and more respect for those with magic and of having Muggles to bow down and worship anyone who possessed magical ability, no matter what their levels of expertise.

"Wizards are a naturally superior species to Muggles who have to perform manually even the simplest of chores our children can accomplish even before their magic is at a level to be classed as useful. A child, a small child of barely five years can light their own candle or cure their own cut fingers; we see it all the time, don't we?"

The crowd growled an agreement, mothers nodding to fathers, parents to their children. Severus briefly wondered if any of the commoners in the audience ever showed such a level at that age. He very much doubted it.

"Yet we must hide our lights under a bushel so as not to inflame the jealousy of the masses of Muggle humanity who threaten to overwhelm us with their commonness," the Lord continued sorrowfully.

A surly mutter arose, growing louder until the Lord held up his hand to silence them. "Yes, we hide in shadow and sneak around behind veils of secrecy and Obliviate charms but the time is coming, a change will sweep the land, carrying the Muggles away to where they deserve to be, under the heel of the Magicals. If we raise our massed voices to the skies, then the Ministry will listen; will have to listen to our groundswell of cries. We want to be more than we are; we want to be recognised as Wizards and superior to those Muggles who brush against us every day. Tell them: cry it aloud on every street corner and in every home, 'We are Wizards, we want to be free!'" The Lord cupped his ear with his hand and repeated the phrase with an emphasis that was taken up by some, then more, then all of the audience until the hall rang with voices raised in chorus.

"We will not be oppressed by Muggles!"

The new catchphrase was quickly taken up and chanted, the audience swaying with the force of their chanting until the very walls reverberated.

"We are wizards, we want to be free. We will not be oppressed by Muggles!"

"We are wizards, we want to be free. We will not be oppressed by Muggles!"

"We are wizards, we want to be free. We will not be oppressed by Muggles!"

Severus caught himself beginning to mouth the chant and shook his head carefully to throw off the effects of the Cheering Potion that was floating in a fine mist around the room. He narrowed his eyes and half smiled when the Lord turned to face them and smiled widely, winking even. Karkaroff seemed to shake himself as if he had fallen under the spell but in seconds he was collected and ready to obey the Lord's slightest wish. The Lord turned back to the audience and raised his hands, a chorus of shushes breaking out as he smiled benignly on them all.

"You know what you want and you know you have the right to want it, but the Wizengamot will not give it to you, this is a fact. If you want anything, you must take it with both hands, fight for your convictions and stand by your principles. If you falter then we will all fail and fall ignobly into the night, merely a whisper of rumour on the wind. But if we all stick together and demand our due then our massed voices will ring through the halls of government and herald a new change of policy that even the tradition-bound Wizengamot will be forced to heed and deal with. Are you with me?"

The crowd roared goodnaturedly.

"Are you with me?"

The crowd roared more forcefully.

"Are you with me!"

The crowd rose as one body roaring its approval in a many throated howl that reverberated around the hall and made the Lord smile as the curtains closed and the crowd began to clap and stamp, chanting the name of Lord Voldemort until the boards of the stage vibrated under the weight of noise.

"Let's get out of here," Lord Voldemort murmured, gathering his two henchmen up and sweeping them backstage where the Lestranges and their helpers stood and clapped as they appeared. Lord Voldemort smiled his acknowledgement but did not stop as he strode through the corridor that led to the outside world. Severus and Karkaroff kept up as the tall Lord stepped into the back alley and turned to smile at them both.

"Igor, you are dismissed, go home and relax. Severus, I promised the Malfoys I would see you home safely, are you ready?"

"Of course, my Lord," Severus replied, unsure of what the Lord meant. He was even more surprised when the Lord stepped up and took his arm as if he didn't have his apparation license and needed a side-along apparation to get to his destination. About to protest, he shut his mouth as the Lord took his arm, patted it softly and apparated, dragging him along before his protest became verbal.

~~*~~

Reflections

They materialised on a hilltop in the middle of farmland that lay in rolling folds about their feet. Farms and small villages were marked by twinkling lights in the distance, echoing the growing population of stars that peeked out as the sun slowly sank into the west. Orange, salmon pink and soft green blue stained the sky, the scatter of clouds blazing as they caught the last few rays. A huge gibbous moon was slowly rising too, not quite full yet but close. Lord Voldemort transfigured a rock into a comfortable seat and sat down; resting his forearms on his thighs as Severus moved forward to stand on the edge of the drop-off and stare out over the peaceful scene. In the distance a night bird began its chorus and closer to hand something rustled through the grass, a mouse perhaps. It was beautiful and soothing after the mob scene they had just left.

Turning, Severus moved back toward the Lord, sitting on the cushion he had prepared at his side. They sat for the longest time until the sun was gone and the stars were all present and accounted for, the moon sailing serenely overhead. Severus wondered if Lupin was watching the same moon and how he would actually feel about it, he probably did not find it beautiful or serene but frightening and threatening, odd that.

Finally, Lord Voldemort sighed and moved his head slightly to address his companion. "What did you think of the meeting, my young friend?" he asked, picking a strand of the long black hair off Severus' shoulder and rolling it between his fingers.

Severus sighed deeply. "It was crude, rough and unattractive but an interesting way of introducing change to a society."

Lord Voldemort smiled into the darkness and tucked the hair behind Severus' ear before stroking the rest. "You're right, it was over-emotional and intended to be, engaging the gonads rather than the intellect, which is the only way to deal with the masses. I learned that from our old friend Grindelwald and his puppet Hitler, fascinating ideas, the man had but a crude way of enforcing them."

"He, Hitler, almost wiped out a couple of races of Muggles, didn't he? I've never quite understood why?"

"Because he could, because he needed to set a minority up as a scapegoat for the majority to feel superior to and to take out their frustrations upon. It's a common enough cycle of behaviour. For the next levels of our own society we have to be somewhat more subtle, engaging both the brain and the emotions before they will be swayed to join our cause. Have you heard the saying 'the carrot or the stick', well, that is what we use on the next level. I think..., yes, I think I will take you to a higher level meeting very soon, my Severus. I believe you will enjoy it."

Lulled by the stroking motions and drowsy from the lateness of the night after the emotional ups and downs of the evening, Severus merely nodded a little and yawned widely. Lord Voldemort laughed and rose pulling the taller young man up with him. "Come along my boy, time to get you home to bed," he teased and apparated, leaving the rocks to revert to their former shape unhindered.

11.04.2006