The New Ministry

Severus bristled in his position. He was about to say something in reply when Nagini hissed once more in his direction, a little annoyed at not receiving an answer from him. He narrowed his eyes at the snake before looking back at Voldemort. What the python said had shocked him, but she would just have to accept it. There were currently more pressing matters he had to deal with. Yet he was thankful she had intervened.

requested Voldemort, who silenced the fourteen foot long Burmese Python with a dismissive glare.

Carrying off from where he had been interrupted he hurried through explaining the document held in his master's scaly white hand. Apparently, it contained the location of several families. These silly folk had allied themselves with Dumbledore now that the Ministry had all but fell into Slytherin hands, as it were. What these few unfortunates didn't know was that they had replicated these documents, a copy of which was in Voldemort's hand right this minute.

One thing I don't understand is why they would be so public. It must be because over half of them are from Gryffindor-based families, he mused, still carrying on his explanation. Bravery comes thick and fast with their sort, just like the pig-headed Potters. Running around, shouting this, doing that.

He then leant back in the chair and smiled smugly. Now all they had to do was make an example of those who dared to resist. It would be an easy mission, as long as Moody or any of his unwelcome friends didn't turn up unexpectedly for a long overdue house call. It wouldn't be easy, though. The Riddle Manor had long since been protected against Apparitions by anyone who wasn't a noted Death Eater. Second to that, it's reputation kept away all but the most foolish of both Wizards and Muggles.

Voldemort, meanwhile, was listening quietly to the words of his Potions Master. As far as Severus could tell, the Dark Lord was adequately pleased with the night's work in obtaining the replicas, which meant that he would not be punished. Not this time, at least. For the next minute he explained just who were the people expected to arrive for the swash get-together in a few weeks time.

"I see. So they will all be in one place at the same time?" Voldemort pondered, now holding a cup of what smelt to be a cup of Deijing tea in his hands. His red eyes suddenly gazed into Severus' black, trying to fathom what was at their depths. "It almost seems too good to be true, don't you think so?"

"I wouldn't say so; you've seen that document for yourself and can pair it with other information we have collected on your behalf, master," he responded coolly, declining an offer of tea from the Dark Lord. He knew how Voldemort liked to play his little mind games. He had had plenty of time to figure them out these last twenty years.

Looking across the room yet again, he could see that Voldemort looked as calm as the sea on a nice summer's day as Hogwarts' old Potions Master locked his fingers and rested them on his lap. The material felt somewhat uneven and a little bit coarse. He would have to get Cerise to journey to Madam Malkin's sometime soon.

Oh how the mind doth stray to the oddest things, he chuckled silently.

His so-called master was still maintaining his passive veneer and dismissively waved a hand in Severus' direction, "Yes, yes. I guess that is so. Perhaps I was wrong to question your loyalty, though the fact that you remained so long in Hogwarts did worry me. Spending so much time under the wing of that mudblood-loving fool, I was beginning to doubt just where you placed your loyalty."

Severus merely nodded in response to Voldemort's theory, as poorly based as it was. At least he knew that his latest little ruse had worked. It was quite relieving to say the least, but he wasn't surprised all that much. Living on the edge day after day tended to hone one's wits out of the need for survival; if nothing else it provided him with an additional skill to add to his resume.

"May I ask what I can do now?" he enquired further, placing his cup on a nearby coffee table. "I would like to leave, if you would allow me."

Voldemort studied him for another second, before handing him the replicated documents that had been raided from the old house earlier that night, "Just hand that in to Malfoy at the Ministry before you leave, and make sure that you talk it over with him. After that is done you may go."

He silently rose from the chair and gently removed the papers from Voldemort's chalk-white hand, before bowing his head in a show of respect, making his way over the blood-red carpet towards the door.

~~~

The Dark Wars:

The Jade Serpent - Mad Eye's Pledge.

By Glorificus Fimus - Journalist Extraordinaire!

As all wizardkind knows, we are in the midst of a war. It is a dark and depressing war, one from which there may be few survivors. However, the Ministry of Magic believe that we, the side of light, will emerge victorious. As Minister Malfoy said earlier this morning, "... The right side will win; we all know this to be true. We just have to be stout and resilient." One piece of new to reach my desk has alarmed me, however.

It is not commonly known that during the last time of You-Know-Who he had chosen an heir. In case of the improbable event of his death, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named had chosen one of his followers to carry on his work. This Heir has now reappeared, and we have confirmed that the Jade Serpent is indeed among us once more due to the report of several survivors, who claim that he left them alive to spread the word of the Dark Lord's Arrival.

So as I wait patiently for my audience with Professor Alastor Moody, who many call Old Mad Eye, I gaze around the small Hogsmeade café and find myself wondering if this small but wonderful place will soon be a victim of the war. A couple kissing in the corner, children nervously remaining indoors, perhaps aware more than ever about the dangers of being alone without any sort of adult supervision.

Then he enters, Old Mad Eye himself. The years have not been kind to the Old Auror's face, which is gnarled and I swear that his magical eye is doing things that it shouldn't be up to as he takes his seat opposite me.

I ask him about You-Know-Who, and then You-Know-Who's Heir. As Mr. Moody informed me, he is unable to reveal the extent of his information for public safety, but that he is "Keeping a close eye on the so-called 'Jade Serpent', who he will personally haul by his high-strung collar before the Court of Magical Law Enforcement as soon as he gets his hands on the blighter."

My assessment is this: on seeing the look on the Auror's face, I can definitely say that this is one old man who is determined to restore some right to the Magical World.

~*~

Lucius watched on, his face twisted in a smirk of amusement as Severus tightly grasped the paper that was in his hands before rolling it up, his black eyes narrowing. The self-styled Delegate of the 'War Council' of the Upper Echelons of the Death Eaters then took his chair at the table with appropriate ceremony, after propping his long snake cane carefully against the table's side. Severus, however, had not taken his seat.

"Well, it's no wonder that we're winning the war if that's all they can come up with; some stupid reporter with an intellect of a Flobberworm," he snorted in disbelief, tossing the rolled-up paper into the center of the table, towards his old friend. He hadn't been this amused since the time little Viridis had thrown up all over Lucius' expensive velvet robes. "What's her name; Glorificus Fimus? Glorious Filth, how appropriate. Honestly, the amount of depressive dribble in this paper... you would think she was on our side."

Thinking that perhaps he had let himself get a little bit too carried away, he crabbily noticed that Lucius had rested his chin on his hands and was now watching him with visible interest, "Yes?"

"Don't you let it get you worked up, my friend," Lucius said sagely, with a twisted smile as he whirled his hand in a gesture. "If they print anything slanderous I can always - ah - get them sacked. After all, what do you supposed happened to Lockhart? Printing that defamatory accusation about my past, really. Innocent until proven guilty, after all."

Severus slid his long fingers together. Everything was going according to plan.

"Perhaps you should wait and read this first," he announced, deftly unfolding his fingers and pulling the document that Voldemort had given him out of his robes in one quick motion. He then tossed them on the table, towards Lucius. There was no need for them to get ahead of themselves until they had examined the evidence.

"He wants you to read through these papers that we appropriated yesterday," he informed the new Minister of Magic. How Lucius had pulled that one off was a mystery waiting to be solved, yet he knew his friend had the power and political clout to do so. He was a Malfoy. That equaled power and prestige.

Severus pulled up a chair at the other end of the round table.

"I'm quite intrigued as to what exactly they pertain to be," he admitted reluctantly, re-linking his fingers under the desk and raising an eyebrow. "Some sort of schedule, perhaps?"

"They do say that the written word is one of the most powerful forces in existence, though whoever said that is probably turning in their grave at this moment in time," Lucius said without smiling. The papers were quickly retrieved with a swish of the Minister's wand, which the blond-haired man returned to his black cane once he held the folds of paper in his hands. "Now let's take a look."

The document was scanned through at a snail's pace by the two men, both of whom were beginning to show the strain of staying up into what was now well into the early hours. Lucius was leaning back in his Minister's Chair, holding what Severus estimated to be his millionth vial of Alertness Potion. He himself had shoved several vials of something similar down his throat hours ago; except his had been home brewed, of course.

"This is getting us nowhere," Lucius drawled as he rubbed his forehead. "All we've learned so far is that Fudge is throwing a party and that Dumbledore is in charge of the Resistance. You above all others should be able to guess where the nerve center is."

Well duh; it's Hogwarts, you idiot, he thought derisively. Lucius had hoped to draw him into a conversation, but he wasn't feeling in the mood.

"Hogwarts," he nodded in feigned agreement. There was no point in losing his friend's support. Lucius was an influential figure amongst other Slytherins. Malfoy was also sly, oh so sly; but not as sly as he was.

He then noticed that Lucius was looking at him in concentration, so he tipped his head to one side, "Before you even suggest it - no, I cannot help. Moody's the new Dark Arts professor; you know what he's like. I'll be detected by Foe Glasses, Dark Detectors and who knows what else barely after leaving the Dark Forest."

Pleasingly, his friend nodded in agreement, "I understand. We'll have to fall back on Plan B. Still, He isn't going to be pleased when we tell him we haven't figured out a plan of action. We need to think of something. Now. So enlighten me, oh High and Mighty Jade Serpent, what is your personal opinion?"

The cogs inside Severus' head were whirling around trying to form something that vaguely resembled a cohesive plan as he frowned at Lucius, "You said something about Aurors several days ago?"

Mind working, Lucius was about to come back with a reply when his gray eyes lit up with understanding, "I see. If we wipe out the whole lot of them... Our master will be pleased to have those thorns removed."

The corner of his mouth curved upwards in a smirk, "I see you understand. So how about it; are you up for the challenge?"

"Of course I am," Lucius smiled. "I'm a Slytherin, aren't I?"

~~~

As soon as he had been able to pull himself away from the riotous rabble downstairs, Cornelius Fudge had scurried off to the safety of his room so that he could avoid the chances of being asked to dance. Safely inside the bedroom offered to him by his host, the aging wizard plunked himself down on the edge of the feather bed.

I wonder why Lucius wanted to keep me downstairs when I so obviously need some rest, he wondered, not that he was in the mood for thinking. His old acquaintance and current party host, Lucius Malfoy, had beaten him several months ago in the elections, meaning that he had lost what prestige he had from being the Minister of Magic. Luckily, he was sure the accusations leveled against Malfoy Senior were unfounded.

Still, he honestly hadn't thought he would lose against his former employee, especially after all that business regarding Malfoy Junior. Draco, was it? Strangely, a few years before the election, the Slytherin had requested time off to deal with some family trouble; Draco, newly graduated from Hogwarts, had disappeared. No one knew exactly what had gone on between the two, but everyone knew that it was taking its toll on the boy's mother. Not that the famed ice queen would ever show it in public.

Rising from the bed, Ex-Minister Fudge thought it strange that the noise downstairs had started to dim. The night was still young and Malfoy's parties usually lasted far longer, but he ignored it and began to unpack his night clothes from a suitcase, placing his wand on a nearby table. Oak, 10 and ¾ inches, Unicorn Hair. He had been in possession of it ever since he was a little boy.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang that rattled the portraits on the wall, his beloved oak wand rolling from the bed to the floor. The strains of Bach that had been drifting through the air on the Wireless Wizard Network came to a halt. He had no idea what was going on, Lucius hadn't said anything about midnight entertainment. Then another idea, one more darker, flitted into his head:

Oh Merlin! Its You-Know-Who; it's got to be! What the hell's going on?!

The sounds of people screaming were starting to drift up the stairs, accompanied by several loud thuds, as if tables and chairs had been overturned. His voice was starting to go a little bit hoarse as he hurried over to the fireplace and threw in some of the dust that was hanging in a nearby bowl, "Lucius? Lucius! What's going on?"

There was no reply.

For the next few moments, Cornelius Fudge remained perfectly still next to the fireplace, beady eyes scanning the room and his mind trying to concoct something that resembled a plan. It took several seconds, but he had one. Ever since the explosion and the first round of screaming, there had been no sound what so ever of people trying to escape, which meant that whatever dirty sons of witches had attacked them were holding people hostage.

His breath held in his throat like some overweight frog. Was it possible he was the only one to escape? He shook his head. No, no; it wasn't. Doubtlessly the Death Eaters, if that was who they were, would search Malfoy Manor from top to bottom. That meant that he had to escape before they found him. That meant now.

Fudge didn't dare to breathe as he rose and tiptoed across to where his wand had fallen, stooping over to pluck it from the floor.

"It's time to get out of here," he mouthed silently, heading towards the door. If only he could get out of here, away from trouble. Fudge's hand rested on the door knob. He could go to Hogwarts. He could go and tell Albus. Yes, that would work. He opened the door just a sliver, carefully peering through the crack. Albus would make everything all right again. The Headmaster would know what to do next.

Through the crack in the door, Fudge could see that the hall was deserted. A few portraits that had been rattled off the walls in the earlier explosion lay discarded on the floor. His mouth hung open in disbelief. The red carpet was pristine, and every other piece of furniture was still standing. It was clean, perhaps too clean.

Fudge pointed his wand towards his chest and whispered, "Abeovisum."

As the spell took hold, he slipped outside, shutting the door behind him. He headed down the corridor, protected by an Invisibility Charm that would last hopefully for at least ten minutes more. If anything, the first thing he needed to do was to get out alive.

~~~

Several minutes later, Fudge glanced up at a clock hung on the opposite wall as he made his way down another corridor, still hugging the wall. He had been right; Malfoy Manor had indeed been attacked by the Death Eaters, several of which he had managed to slip past as they rushed past his unseen form on the corridor. He was beginning to see why Harry Potter was so nervous all the time; if Lord Vol... You-Know-Who had sworn to kill him, then he'd be pretty paranoid too.

His feet were crunching the glass underneath, which was displeasingly too audible for a proper escape. He watched where he was walking as he came closer to the main stairs, lit up by a torch that hung on the wall further ahead, bathing everything in a soft green light.

The screams had died down by now, though he could hear faint whimpering from the main hall where the party had been situated. A pungent smell of chemicals hung in the air, forcing him to cover his nose.

He put another foot forward, congratulating himself on his bravery, when he suddenly noticed the long hooded snake -- a king cobra -- that was slithering towards him across the stairs. Just how many reptiles did Malfoy keep, anyway? And how had it gotten free of its cage? Hugging the wall, Fudge remained silent as the snake came to a pause, its forked tongue tasting the air as if aware that something or someone was there.

Please. Please, just go away, he silently prayed, almost crossing his fingers behind his back.

Luckily, the snake lowered its head and continued on its way. He watched the creature disappear down the corridor, its black scales reflecting the green torchlight until it slithered around the corner, out of sight.

Turning back in the direction of the main hall, Fudge was about to do the same, when he heard a slight cough come from behind him. When he whirled round, his mouth was wide open in surprise as he found that he was face-to-mask with one of Voldemort's Death Eaters. The alabaster mask was almost pressing into his skin. He gulped as he caught sight of the green snake motif that wound its way around the mask's left cheek, and did a double take when he noticed the black eyes that glinted behind the mask.

The Death Eater didn't seem impressed. Instead, he towered over him, looking nonchalantly down at the area around the old man's left hand before ripping the wand away with a clean sweep of his arm and pocketing it inside his robes, "Cornelius Fudge, I presume?"

"Severus Snape, if I'm not mistaken," he spat back, the Death Eater and Hogwarts' Old Potions Master remaining as quiet as the animal which symbolized his house. "The unstable man with a grudge against the boy. Traitor to Albus Dumbledore. What are you, I dread to ask, doing here? Come to kill me, have you?"

He could swear that Severus' face twisted into a smile behind his mask, matched by an dark and equally abrupt voice, "No, you fool. I'm here to save your life. Seeing as I'm not even supposed to be here, I think best you shut up."

It took several seconds for the words to register on Fudge's face. As far as he knew, his Invisibility Charm was still working and he had been quiet. That meant that by all rights Severus Snape shouldn't have been able to sense him, but he had. The question was how? Then it came to him, as clear as day, "You're that snake from before, aren't you?"

Severus smiled behind his mask, dipping his head coquettishly.

"As observant as ever, I see," the Potions Master said observantly, lifting his chin, black eyes lit with black humour. "Yes, I am 'that snake', as you put it. A black King Cobra, in fact. Fitting, don't you think, that this snake is saving your life? You have no idea of how much you owe me for saving your miserable hide... all the time you ignored Dumbledore's warnings about Voldemort."

Fudge swore upon his mother that he could hear the faintest hint of laughter from behind the man's mask as Severus continued to speak, "I should just let them have some fun with you; still, I can't allow that to happen. You really are foolish, Fudge; it's no wonder Malfoy beat you good and proper."

"So you're going to kill me then?" he enquired, backing up against the wall. If he was going down, then he was going to take at least this misnomer down with him.

"Oh no, not today at least. I'm just not in the mood, generous soul that I am," Severus crowed, a hand reaching back inside his robes. "In fact, consider me your fallen guardian angel..."

~~~

"Crucio. What do you mean, he escaped?!"

All in all, Severus' plan had gone off without a hitch. For once, that idiotic Fudge had listened to his sound advice and had managed to (hopefully) get himself to Hogwarts. Predictably, Voldemort hadn't been too pleased by this little hitch in his master plan and was taking out his anger on the nearest available Death Eater. Now all he had to do was foil the attack on the Aurors, which would be easier said than done.

"I'm waiting for an explanation," Voldemort barked.

From his position at the front, it was easy to see Voldemort's wand arm pointing out at the unfortunate youth. The pain the boy was feeling was because of his actions. The Dark Lord was glaring at the selected group on his far left who had failed in their attempt to eliminate the old Minister of Magic. That, also, had been his fault.

"I don't know, my Lord," the boy murmured between curses. "Everything had been set up perfectly."

"It cannot have been set up perfectly, otherwise you wouldn't have failed," Voldemort countered, hitting the boy with another dose of Crucio.

The screams of torture that were coming from - Ayden McMillan was it? - were unnerving some of the greenhorns, some of whom, in his opinion, looked ready to wet themselves. Older Veterans such as himself and Lucius, who was occupying the space next to him, had seen it all before and had learned how to block out the sounds.

Ayden McMillan, 19. Slytherin. Violin player, Charms Impresario, he thought, lips hardening behind his mask. The boy had been two years below Draco, and unlike some of his peers he actually had bothered to pay attention in his class. He had even spoke to him about becoming an Auror. Why the boy had suddenly switched sides and signed up to a far worse fate he didn't know; he hadn't been there for the last four years. He would have liked to be but... He would have to invite the lad for a drink sometime.

As Voldemort removed the curse, he had to allow himself the luxury of a small smile. If Fudge the Ignorant could manage to get himself to Hogwarts than the old dotard was a cleverer man than he gave credit for; and so was he, for outwitting pretty much the whole of the Dark Forces. Still, it was best that he didn't go around telling everyone how he was such a genius. It wouldn't help with the image he was trying to maintain. Only fools - or Gryffindors - went strutting around the place, proclaiming their brilliance.

He pushed back a stray lock of black hair that fell over his mask as Voldemort called Lucius forwards. Out of the new skills he had worked on, being an Animagus was now starting to be its own reward. He was the only one who knew, not even Dumbledore and McGonagall knew, and long as no one else found out he could move around virtually undetected. Plus it had its other uses.

In all, everything was so far proceeding as planned. It was no wonder why Albus considered him to be a worthy opponent in the game of Wizard Chess.

With a shuffle of robes his friend stepped out from the circle, towards the Dark Lord. He crossed his arms over his chest, hands coated in black velvet intersecting as he watched the talk with some interest. To someone in his position, anything mentioned served a purpose, even if it was misinformation.

Eventually, after a lengthy talk, Malfoy retook his position amongst the crowd of Death Eaters. He cast a sideways look at his friend. He could tell from Lucius' body language that he didn't appear to be in the best of health. Beforehand, his posture seemed more slumped, his eyes lacking some of that gray spirit usually associated with the much-vaulted Malfoy genes.

The reason why was easy enough to guess: Draco's disappearance. Although he knew that Lucius often came down hard on his son, he was only doing out of what he perceived to be in the boy's interest. So when Draco had rebelled and refused the mark Lucius had reacted harshly, kicking the boy out of the family home. He didn't know what Narcissa thought of Lucius' actions, but from what Cerise had told him Narcissa hadn't been at all pleased.

Farewell, Marital Bliss; Hello single beds, he thought ironically, snorting beneath his mask in a typical 'Snape Snort', as McGonagall had tended to put it, as he remembered a similar occurrence back home. Not that he had cared for such a disparaging portrayal of his character, even if it was true.

He rolled his eyes as Voldemort dismissed the Death Eaters, Apparating away as soon as he was able. He had gotten past the red-eyed terror that was Voldemort; now he had to get past the evil-tempered witch that was his wife.

~~~