Into the Fold

THE SLYTHERIN COMMON ROOM

September, 1975

One week after he'd been passed over for the Slug Club, Severus noticed its Slytherin members--Olaus Ruskin, Spencer Travers, and now Evan Rosier--were absent from the House common room.

It was an hour after dinner. Seated at a writing table, Severus was working on a two-foot essay assigned by Professor Bones, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Regulus Black, at a separate table, also scratched away at a parchment. Everyone else lounged before the fire, talking or reading. Everyone else but Ruskin, Travers and Rosier.

It didn't mean that they were in Professor Slughorn's office right now, enjoying his attention, eliciting his praise and hearing his gossip about the rich and famous. With Ruskin in the lead as he always was, they could have been anywhere in the castle, including the places they didn't belong after dark. Ruskin knew Hogwarts every bit as well as Potter and his gang did.

Ruskin, Travers and Rosier didn't have to be at a meeting of the Slug Club. But Severus expected that was where they were, even though, since he wasn't a member, no one ever told him the meeting times. He kept track of that sort of thing on his own.

It was now eight o'clock on Thursday evening. Professor Slughorn didn't keep office hours on Thursday. So why wouldn't the three Slytherin members of the Slug Club be at a meeting of the Club?

Severus returned to his essay. He was answering Bones's question about the use of the Shield Charm against disabling hexes when the common room door opened and Ruskin, Travers and Rosier came in.

Severus's eyes were drawn to Olaus Ruskin, Head Boy, Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team and the cleverest student in seventh year. Tall and long-limbed, Ruskin moved as though gravity could hardly hold him to the ground. His painfully bright strawberry-blond hair lit the dungeon like a torch and his eyes were the colour of the Hogwarts lake on a summer day. Travers was handsome too, in his dark way, as was Rosier, with his sandy hair, light-grey eyes and aristocratic bearing. But neither of them shone as Ruskin did. He was the brightest star in any constellation.

"Oh, Wilkes, Lestrange, there you are!" Ruskin flopped into a chair between Douglas Wilkes and Rabastan Lestrange. "Rosier!" He beckoned to Evan, who came and sat on the hearthrug in front of the other three boys. "Quidditch practice tomorrow afternoon at four o'clock sharp; we've got the match with Gryffindor on Saturday, and I want everyone on form. Wilkes, I want to see some better Keeping this year. Don't let Potter score so many goals. And Rosier, don't let Longbottom near that Snitch. Catch it early if you can...." They put their heads together, talking match strategy, and their voices sank to low murmurs.

Severus was about to resume writing when he saw Regulus Black staring at Ruskin and his team mates. It occurred to Severus that Sirius was on the Gryffindor Quidditch team while Regulus had failed to make the Slytherin team. Now Sirius had been tapped for the Slug Club while Regulus, so far, was left out.

Severus looked away. He dipped his quill into his inkpot and returned to work.

The wizard must be certain of the spell being cast at him, so that he can calibrate his Shield Charm to produce the proper response. For example, not even the second-level Charm will be enough to block the pain caused by any of the curses, such as Cruciatus, which are to be found in the class of Agony-Inflictors.

His concentration was interrupted by Ruskin's peal of laughter. "Well, Rabby, I'm sorry to delay your beauty sleep, but it's not my fault Sluggy kept us so late!"

"I'm not tired!" said Lestrange.

"I bored you, then, with my dull Quidditch talk? Is that why you were yawning?"

"I've got homework to do--"

"Oh, never mind. I'm finished, anyway. Just as long as you remember to keep heaving those Bludgers at Black on Saturday. So, Evan," Ruskin said, turning his attention to Rosier, "how did you like it?"

"Like what?" Evan asked coolly.

Ruskin laughed again. "You make me sound like a dirty old man. The Slug Club, of course."

"Sluggy's the dirty old man," Spencer Travers put in. "Did you see him around Evans?"

Vera Vaisey came to sit beside Rosier. "That filthy little Mudblood! What does Slughorn see in her?"

"Why, Vera, such language! I'm surprised at you!" Ruskin said. "Don't you know Lily Evans is exactly Horace Slughorn's type? Pretty, clever--very clever; isn't she in competition with Potter and Black for first in their year? And feisty. That sounds like the sort of word Slughorn would use, doesn't it? Yes, feisty. Why, she even--" Ruskin broke off. He twisted round in his seat to look at Severus. "Severus! Why are you off in a corner moping? Come over here and talk to us!"

"I'm doing my homework," said Severus.

"Well, take a break, then! If I know you, you've been at it since dinner-time. Haven't you? Come on!" Ruskin waved Severus over without waiting for an answer.

Ruskin assumed Severus was among those who could refuse him nothing. He was right, of course. Severus blotted his parchment, rolled it up tightly and went to sit at one end of the group before the fireplace, next to Lestrange. By the soft scraping of the chair at the other table and the sound of footsteps behind him, he knew that Regulus Black followed him. But Regulus did not sit with the rest. He remained standing off to one side, in the shadows.

"As I was saying," Ruskin went on, "Lily Evans wasn't in Slughorn's office fifteen minutes before she was telling him whom to recruit to his club."

"Isn't that just like her!" said Vera.

"Yes, she seems to be a bossy little chit," Ruskin agreed.

"Who did she work him for?" asked Lestrange. "One of her Gryffindor girlfriends?"

Rosier snorted with laughter. Perhaps he, like Severus, was picturing Lily beating Slughorn at his own game.

"Erm, hardly," said Ruskin. He bent forward a bit and looked past Lestrange at Severus. "Evans thinks Slughorn ought to invite you into his little salon, Severus."

"Me?" said Severus.

"Yes, you. She was on about this potion you and she made in Slughorn's class last week; what was it again?"

"Oh, who cares about Evans!" Vera said. "Who else was there?"

Ruskin took the interruption equably. "Well, Spencer and I, of course, but we've been there. I suppose you want to hear about the new people. There's Evan. He was there."

"I know that, and I know why he was there. He's brilliant," Vera said. Severus hadn't thought she could lean any closer to Rosier, but somehow she managed it.

Rosier took the fawning as no more than his due. But Travers said, "I don't suppose it hurts that Evan's father is Head of the Wizengamot Administrative Services. My dad says nobody gets on the Wizengamot unless Oswald Rosier vets him first."

"Oh, is that so?" said Lestrange. "I didn't know that was part of the job. What do you say, Evan?"

Vera's head was now on Rosier's shoulder and he was idly stroking her hair. "You'll have to ask Dad," he said. "If you ever want to be on the Wizengamot."

"Dull stuff, the Wizengamot," Ruskin said. "You haven't the attention span for it, Rabastan." Everyone but Severus and Regulus laughed.

"Let's see. Who else did Sluggy choose to bask in his favour?" Ruskin continued. "There's that Hufflepuff girl. Hildy Baumgartner. But she's an obvious choice. They say her mother's one of the brightest witches in Europe."

"Sluggy says so, anyway," said Travers.

"Well, I trust him to be right about that," said Ruskin. "He knows a lot more about people's reputations than I do. Madame Baumgartner's Head of the Dark Force Defence League and an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. Hildy says she's doing research there, parsing the magic of the Unforgivable Curses. You have to have a few brains for that, don't you? Besides, Hildy's no slouch, either. She got five Outstandings on her O.W.L.s. She's well on her way to getting onto the Auror training programme, which is exactly where she wants to be. Oh, and there's Sirius Black."

Wilkes snorted. "No wonder there. He's a Black. What more does it take?" He didn't seem to notice Regulus stepping half out of the shadows at the sound of his brother's name.

"Well, let's see," Ruskin said. "Good looks, charisma, brilliance--"

"Brilliance!" Rosier burst out, as if that were the final straw.

"Yes. Give Sirius his due. He's brilliant. He's also a stupid prat who loathes the origins that have given him everything he's got. Funny how Sluggy doesn't seem to have sussed that Sirius hates being a Black. But he does hate it. Doesn't he, Regulus?" Ruskin leaned forward and looked Regulus full in the face, as if to tell him he needn't bother trying to be so inconspicuous.

"There's nothing he hates more," Regulus said.

"Thought so," said Ruskin, leaning back. He stared into the flames for a moment, then said, "Lupin, now. That Gryffindor prefect. Can't work out what Slughorn saw in him."

Neither could Severus. But he hadn't forgotten the cool, speculative glance Slughorn had given Lupin before calling his name.

"Potter's another story, though," Ruskin went on. "He's everything Sluggy wants to be, but isn't." He ticked James Potter's virtues off on his fingers. "Scion of a filthy rich, top-drawer pure-blood family with all the best connections. He's popular, he's mischievous, he's good-looking. The girls love him. Yes, you, too, Vera, I've seen you looking at him!"

"Hmph!" said Vera. But at least she knew better than to deny it outright.

"Captain of his House Quidditch team and cleverest in his year. All this without looking as though he works at any of it!"

Ruskin might have been speaking about himself, Severus thought.

"Sluggy's such a climber," Ruskin said. "A parvenu, my Mum calls him. That's what his worship of James Potter is all about, that and mistaking bullying, hexing and talking out of turn in class for wit. Sluggy likes to name-drop, you know, and you can't drop a better name than Potter."

That wasn't the whole story, Severus thought. "Slughorn's interested in more than name-dropping," he said. "Otherwise, he'd never have chosen Lupin and Lily Evans."

"True. So why were you passed over again? I might have said it was because you're not a cute redhead, if he hadn't tapped Lupin too. Especially after I heard Evans tell that story of the potion you and she made together."

"What potion?" Regulus asked.

Ruskin repeated the story of the Antisomnia Infusion as Lily had given it to the Slug Club.

"I liked how Slughorn sat back and let Evans make a fool of him," said Rosier. "She as much as said that Severus knew better than Slughorn how to make the Antisomnia Infusion."

"It's the truth," said Severus. "I do know better."

"That's what it sounded like to me," said Ruskin. "But Slughorn didn't let it go. 'Now, Lily, of course you're right to give proper credit to your partner, but, you know, you're just as good as Severus is in Potions, if not better.'"

Ruskin's imitation of Slughorn was so accurate that even Severus smiled at it. Everyone else laughed.

"He wasn't about to let us go on thinking Severus had done anything so very wonderful. He didn't change Lily Evans's mind, though. She'd like to be friends again, I think, Severus. You've quite captivated her."

Ruskin's tone of amused contempt suggested he thought exactly the opposite. It was another one of his casual insults, which, if he was aware he'd made it at all, he would forget in another moment. Knowing that did not stop the resentment from burning in Severus's gut. He made sure, however, to keep it from his expression.

"Of course, we've always appreciated you," Ruskin said. "You're the best spell-maker in school."

Rosier spoke up with rare enthusiasm. "Yeah, what about that Tongue-Gluing Curse of yours? It shuts Potter and Black right up! And that Toenail-Growing Hex!"

Wilkes laughed. "Oh, I love that one! The referees are always trying to call a foul against Slytherin when the other team's toenails start splitting their shoe leather. But they can't make the penalty stick because they never catch one of us casting the spell!"

"Severus has been casting that one since second year," said Lestrange. "When are the idiots going to work out that the spell comes from the Slytherin stands, not the Slytherin team?"

"When they're fast enough to intercept it before it hits its mark. Which hasn't happened yet," said Severus.

"No, not in three years! Really, you're incredible, Severus!" Ruskin said.

His tone was sincere and his gaze admiring. At least, Severus saw no reason to think otherwise, for where was the profit to Ruskin in heaping praise on an ugly half-blood?

"And Muffliato," Travers said. "I like that one for when we're in the Great Hall, talking about something we don't need the whole school to know about." He laughed suddenly. "Hey, Rabastan, remember when we cast it around ourselves in the library last year, when that nosy little butterball of a git Pettigrew was lurking about? He kept waving his hands around his head like he was trying to bat away a bumblebee, until he ended up boxing his own ears!"

Severus smiled. He had dismissed all dreams of playing Quidditch after his humiliating failure at tryouts in second year. Dumbledore and Slughorn between them would see to it that he'd never make prefect or Head Boy. It didn't matter. In his own way, he had brought glory to Slytherin House.

Lestrange laughed at Travers's tale. "That Muffliato's a handy spell," he said to Severus. "It's a good job you've kept that one quiet. Too bad you couldn't have done the same with Levicorpus. The minute Potter learned how to cast it, it was all over the school." Lestrange sighed regretfully at the loss of one of Slytherin House's proprietary spells.

"It's not necessarily Severus's fault," Ruskin pointed out. "Anybody could have let the incantation slip. Or maybe Potter invented it independently. He knows the counter-curse, after all, and we don't."

Ruskin was wrong for once. It probably was Severus's fault. He'd yelled the incantation at Potter and his gang several times in rage. He wasn't about to admit it, though. Instead, he said, "I've got the counter-spell now too. I worked it out over the summer."

"Levicorpus is a good one," Regulus said. He pulled a chair next to Severus and sat down. "But you know what my favourite one of Severus's spells is? The Breath-taker."

Ruskin looked at Regulus Black as if he were seeing him for the first time. "Yes," he said. "It's also Severus's most dangerous spell."

Perhaps it was, Severus thought. Then again, perhaps it wasn't. The counter-curse to Levicorpus wasn't the only thing he'd worked on over the summer.

Ruskin pointed his wand toward the fire. "Exanimo!" he said softly. A purple flame shimmered forth from the tip of his wand.

"Be careful!" Severus said sharply.

Ruskin looked at him with raised eyebrows. Severus had never spoken like that to him before. But he answered mildly enough. "It's all right, Severus. The flames will dissipate the spell." He smiled at the fire. "You know, it does take a certain amount of what Dumbledore calls Dark intent to cast this spell."

Severus knew exactly what Ruskin and Dumbledore meant.

"Which means," Ruskin continued, "that the Breath-taker is not the sort of spell they teach you at Hogwarts. Keep that in mind, Severus, when you get to be a professor here!"

Everyone laughed. "Why should I want to be a professor?" Severus asked irritably.

Ruskin shrugged. "It's a decent living."

A decent living: a steady income, a reasonable retirement pension, a modicum of respect from what Ruskin's class called the petite bourgeoisie. The pinnacle of what a half-blood charity boy ought to aspire to.

"You take it the wrong way, Severus," Rosier said. "We like your spells, even the ones with a touch of the Dark about them."

"Maybe especially the ones with a touch of the Dark about them," said Lestrange.

"That's right," said Rosier. "But in a school where Albus Dumbledore's the Headmaster and Horace Slughorn's nothing more than his lickspittle, you don't want to get a reputation for excelling in anything but the Lightest magic."

"Oh, is that so? What about James Potter?" Severus spat it out before he could stop himself. "He hexes anybody he pleases, just because he feels like it; he's said so himself! I don't see where it's hindered him!"

Ruskin looked at him pityingly. "You need to understand something, Severus. James Potter is different from you."

"Yeah," said Wilkes. "For one thing, he knows better than to show up the Potions Master on the first day of lessons. No wonder Slughorn doesn't want you in his club."

"I don't need that fat, self-indulgent fool or his circle of--!" Severus had nearly said spoiled brats, but he'd stopped himself just in time.

A genial smile spread across Ruskin's face, one that clearly said he'd completed Severus's sentence in his mind, but that he needn't take offence at the spewing of someone as insignificant as Severus Snape. "Maybe you don't need him," he said in the smoothing-ruffled-feathers tone which had settled many a squabble in Slytherin House. "But the kind of friends who can by won by flattery, Slughorn's got everywhere: the Ministry, the professions, business, nearly every pure-blood family. I know I've made use of the time I've spent sitting at Horace Slughorn's knee. He's already said he'll help me get a nice little sinecure in the Ministry. Nothing too strenuous, I said, something in Magical Games and Sports, maybe, and Sluggy promised to deliver. He said he likes my Quidditch form."

Ruskin paused, as if savouring his latest coup. "See, the thing is, I've got better things to do with my time than work," he concluded.

In Severus's opinion, Ruskin couldn't have spoken a truer word about himself. Why waste time working when you knew you'd never have to? Still, Ruskin's was an offhand remark, hardly worth the strangely intent, even tense looks that Lestrange and Rosier gave him.

Then Rosier slowly smiled and Lestrange said quietly, "You sound like Lucius, Olaus."

"He and I share the same opinions on a lot of things." Suddenly Ruskin changed the subject. "Look here, Rabastan, about that Double-Backed Quaffle Manoeuvre. Work on it with Travers. He needs to cover you from the other team's Bludgers when you pull the Manoeuvre during a match. In fact, we'll all work on it at practice tomorrow. Wilkes, you...."

Ruskin turned away to huddle with the Quidditch team. Rosier released Vera without a word or a second glance and joined his team mates.

After staring in dismay for a moment at Rosier's back, Vera left the room.

Severus returned to the table where his two feet of parchment still lay waiting to be filled.

Though they are not characterised by any visible manifestations, such as flame shooting from the tip of the caster's wand, the Agony-Inflictors tend in general to be susceptible to the workings of Revelatory Charms....

"So, Severus," said a soft voice.

Severus looked up from his writing to see Regulus standing beside his table.

"What do you think Ruskin was on about?" Regulus asked in the same low voice.

"Quidditch," Severus said in a normal tone.

"I mean, the working part," Regulus said. "What's he got waiting for him that's so much better than work?"

This was Sirius Black's brother. Didn't he know by now that Severus was left out of not only Quidditch but everything else? "Why don't you ask him?" said Severus irritably.

"Oh," said Regulus. "I thought you knew, that's all."

"I don't know, but I can guess. Quidditch playing, partying and picking up girls. It's what I'd do in his place." Severus gestured toward his parchment. "Look, do you mind? I've got an essay to finish."

Regulus's look turned supercilious. It became an expression which said Severus Snape did not now and could not ever make the grade.

"Oh, sure," Regulus said, drifting off to his own table.

Severus renewed his attack on his Defence Against the Dark Arts essay.

There is no time for casting Revelatory Charms in the heat of battle, however. It is better for the wizard to know the Agony Inflictors by magical sight, so that he has the time to cast a properly-calibrated Shield Charm before being disabled by his opponent's curse. In actual practice, of course, few witches and wizards outside of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have that kind of aptitude and training....