Trust and Betrayal: A Prequel

10. Magick Moste Potente

- Summer 1977 -

Part 1

Magic is a force, a constant of the natural world that is part of everything alive on Earth. Magic is neither Good nor Evil, Dark nor Light. It exists outside of morality or judgment. The inherent power of the sun, the planets, fire and water, earth and wind, animal and mankind exists in support of life itself. However, to those who carry the innate ability to summon and channel its power, Elemental Magic is, in its purest form, also perilous, chaotic, unpredictable and exceedingly dangerous.

From The Origins of Magick by Juno Ambrosius Dell

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus
Malfoy's private library surpassed anything Severus could have imagined. The books that surrounded him would never have been found on the shelves at Hogwarts, even in the Restricted Section. As his hands gently caressed the bindings of the ancient volumes, he could feel the magic within them crackle beneath his fingertips.

"It's an impressive collection, isn't it?" Malfoy acknowledged with a smug half-smile. "My agents have spared no effort or expense in finding the rarest of magical texts from around the world."

"They are magnificent," whispered Severus, feeling almost light-headed as the power of the books called to him, the tendrils of the magic within them reaching out seductively.

"Feel free to borrow anything that catches your interest. It pleases me to share them with someone who appreciates their value. And, since you've finished school, I imagine you'd enjoy having access to this--unusual resource."

Something in Malfoy's tone snapped Severus to attention, pulling him away from the siren call of the books. As much as Severus had grown used to and enjoyed the perks of Malfoy's patronage, he had quickly learned that nothing was ever offered or given freely; there was always a price to be paid. Up to this point, Malfoy had seemed content with the small bits of information that Severus had managed to coax out of Lily Evans, in this last year, about her experiences in the Department of Mysteries. To ensure that he could continue to provide this information to Malfoy, Severus had forced himself to swallow his pride and subdue his anger sufficiently, and had apologised to Lily for his behaviour on the night she had helped to save his life. In the end, he found that it wasn't difficult to maintain, at least, the outward appearance of 'friendship' with her. It also helped that Potter and company had ceased their attempts to hex him at every turn, apparently reigned in by their collective guilt over the 'werewolf incident' and Potter's new turn as Head Boy. Being ignored by the Gryffindor cabal had been a relief, and his seventh year passed more peacefully than any previous year.

The year also proved itself notable, nearly enjoyable in fact, as he studied Legilimency and Occlumency under Dumbledore's tutelage. Severus didn't even mind that he had to share lessons with the wolf, who had proven more adept than one might have expected from a lesser being and provided Severus with more than a few challenges. Although Severus knew that he'd never like Lupin, he had grown to respect him. The fact that he'd never admit such regard was as certain as the sun rising each morning.

Severus' peaceful year, however, had come to a crashing finale when Potter stood up on the Gryffindor table at the Leaving Feast to ostentatiously announce his engagement to Lily Evans. As the applause and cheers of classmates broke out around the Great Hall, the wall that Severus had so carefully constructed around his heart nearly toppled, as Lily caught--and held--his eyes for several agonising moments. Somehow, despite the fact that he knew that Lily and Potter had been together all year, the moment still caught him off guard. Those penetrating, green eyes conveyed such an intensity of feeling, that they sliced cleanly through his carefully wrought wall and nicked at his heart, inflicting an indescribable sense of loss. Tearing his eyes away from Lily, he noted that several of his fellow Slytherins were eyeing him curiously. Severus forced his face to assume a mask of indifference and devoted more attention to his pudding than it deserved.

The next day, as the seventh-year students bid farewell to Hogwarts for the last time and looked towards their futures, Severus arrived in Wiltshire to spend the first few weeks of his summer as a guest of the Malfoys.

At the beginning of his third week, Lucius asked him if he'd like to see his library. And now, standing in the middle of this magical miracle, Severus instinctively sensed that the time was rapidly approaching when Malfoy would ask him for far more.

*******

It was a beautiful summer day, and Severus and Malfoy sat on the veranda of Malfoy Manor overlooking the gardens, each sipping a glass of Malfoy's finest elf-made wine. A light breeze cooled the air and made the blossoms ripple under the sun. As he lifted his glass to his lips, Severus studied Malfoy discreetly through his lashes. He was impressed, not for the first time, with the man's grace and his ability to always seem so confident, so comfortable in his skin. Severus knew that he would never manage to look--or feel--like that.

Lucius stretched out like a cat in the sun. "So, Severus, what are your plans for the rest of the summer?" he asked.

"I will be investigating a few offers of employment that I have received. I expect to begin working shortly."

"Has Dafwyd contacted you?" Malfoy asked with a casual lightness.

Of course, thought Severus. He's already arranged it. He should have guessed.

"He has. He's asked me to Apprentice with him. I am considering the offer."

Malfoy nodded, looking pleased. "You should, Severus. He's a good man. You'll learn a lot from him. Working in his Apothecary would also provide you with opportunities to work on some... special projects."

Severus just smiled in reply, trying to parse the meaning behind Lucius' words.

"Speaking of offers," Lucius said, once again in an off-hand manner, "have you considered ours?"

Severus took another sip of wine and considered how best to respond. His first offer to become a Death Eater for Voldemort had been made when he arrived at Malfoy Manor. Two more offers would be made--three in all. Severus had learned that there were significant but unnamed 'consequences' to those who refused to unconditionally accept by the third time.

Severus finished the rest of the wine in his glass and set it down on the table. "Yes, I have considered it. I - I think, however, that it is not yet the right time to officially accept this distinguished honour. Perhaps, after I have established myself, I hope that we might discuss it again."

"I think that is a wise decision, Severus," Lucius said with an agreeable nod.

Severus felt the tightness in his chest relax, relieved that he hadn't angered or alienated his patron.

"You'll be much better suited after you've had some time to become adjusted to your new position. In fact, having you in a place to develop your Potions mastery will serve us well, even in an--unofficial capacity."

Lucius smiled, holding up the bottle, which glinted red in the sunlight. "More wine?"

"Please," he replied, and Malfoy filled his glass. Severus noticed that the breeze had disappeared and the day had become just a bit warmer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In earliest prehistory, that natural force was known as Wilde Magick. To those unfortunate enough to chance a spontaneous encounter with a surge of Wilde Magick, it was almost always fatal, akin to being struck by lightning. In later ages, to the rare few who managed to survive such an encounter, or who summoned this force deliberately in conjunction with the oldest rites and rituals, it was called Ancient Magick.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lily
The highlight of Lily's summer, after completing her final year of study at Hogwarts as Head Girl and her engagement to James, was her formal acceptance into the Department of Mysteries as an Apprentice Unspeakable to Esmé Wentwhistle, Head of the Special Study Division. The ceremony where she took her final Vows of Secrecy was a solemn and beautiful rite, and one that Lily wished she could have shared with James and her parents. Happily, Corran Masten, the man who had sponsored her, had stood as a witness and helped to seal the magic that would protect her and their work from interference by the outside world.

For even the Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold, wasn't privy to what occurred inside the Department of Mysteries. Only the Unspeakables held those secrets and understood the power underlying their work with Elemental Magic.

On Lily's first official day, Esmé walked her through the Department's many Divisions. Each time they left one Division and returned to the main hall, its round wall of doors spun around them, reminding Lily of a carnival ride she'd once been on as a child. She didn't like the feeling of vertigo any better now than she had then.

When the room stopped spinning, Esmé took her arm and ushered her through another door to yet another of the Divisions. Lily wondered how long it would take her to learn how to navigate this puzzle of a place.

Esmé guided her through a room that held, in its centre, a large tank containing some floating matter. Lily was astounded to recognise it as human brains.

"The need for secrecy extends between Divisions as well," said Esmé as Lily stood, mesmerised by the floating cartilage. "Although it is permissible for us to enter any Division's exterior rooms such as this one, the inner rooms, where the research occurs, are strictly off limits. Only those that work within a Division truly know the matter under study." Esmé leaned in towards Lily to speak in a whisper. "Of course, rumours do leak out about what goes on in other areas. I can't verify the truth of this one, but I heard that we are close to revealing a new potion that will ease the transformation process for werewolves."

This news sent a thrill through Lily.

"That would be incredible, Esmé! Do you think it's true?" she asked, thinking of Remus.

Esmé shrugged with an enigmatic smile.

It would be wonderful if there were hope for some measure of relief in store for her friend. Of course, she was dismayed that she couldn't share this news. For this information had to be, like everything else about her work, kept secret.

******

Lily was overwhelmed with the array and diversity of subject matter she saw as she walked from room to room: the swirling planets; the wall of Time-Turners; the rows upon rows of orbs in the Hall of Prophecy; the strange, tattered veil hanging at the base of the stone-seated amphitheatre; and a greenhouse so large and diverse with plant matter that it would set Professor Sprout squealing with envy.

"Are there any similarities between the Divisions? Are we working towards some common purpose?" Lily asked.

Esmé nodded. "Each of the subject areas represents one of the basic forms of Elemental Magic: the Universe, the Mind, Time, Organic Matter, the Spirit or Soul--"

"That's Corran's Division, isn't it?" interrupted Lily.

Esmé affirmed this with another nod.

"Why is our Division known as 'Special Study'? It's such an odd name. It could mean anything!"

"Have you noticed that our entrance is the only one locked--the only one not accessible from the main hall?"

Lily nodded, remembering the sequence of spells she'd been taught to recognise and gain access into her Division.

Given the number of years Esmé had worked here, Lily was surprised to see a look of wonder appear on her face. "It is sealed because our work is the most sensitive of all the subjects under study in the Department. It is safer for everyone if it appears a bit--obscure. Some of us call it 'Heart Matter,' others call it 'Love.' The power of what we study is difficult to describe or capture by something as imperfect as words.

"But to answer your question, we do share a common goal. Each Division has methods of harvesting the Magic from each of our subject's source, that permit it to be studied. And we all conduct experiments with trace amounts of that energy to develop applications that will benefit our world: new spells, potions, charms, objects and so forth. Most importantly, every one of us has learned to respect the Magic in our custody. We never take it for granted."

Like a light snapping on in a darkened room, the full implication of their work, and the need for absolute secrecy, hit Lily in a rush of understanding. Her mouth suddenly felt dry.

"That Magic, that energy we draw upon and use, is volatile--unstable," she whispered.

The threat of the growing darkness and evil that loomed on the periphery over both the wizarding and non-magical worlds took a sickening shape in Lily's mind like a poisonous cloud. "If people were to know about it, or worse, to get their hands on it, it could be devastating...."

Esmé looked at her with a wistful, almost sad smile. "In the wrong hands, or just in ignorant hands, that power, if unleashed, could destroy the world."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The invention of the hollowed and cored wand in the era we now call the 'Middle Ages' replaced the solid, wooden staff used by Shamans and Priests in earlier periods. The smaller and more flexible wand proved more durable and less prone to destruction than its more primitive antecedent. It also had the benefit of amplifying the power of the intent behind the casting of spells, its magical core conducting power more efficiently, and providing less resistance to the Magic that flowed through it. The cored wand functioned as an extension of the wizards' central nervous system, but did so more safely, since the actual connection to the power of the Magic occurred within the wand itself, outside the caster's body. This most important development in conducting Magic meant that Wizards survived, for the first time, to live dramatically longer lives.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Peter
After completing his studies at Hogwarts, Peter settled comfortably back into his childhood home. At first he enjoyed his mother's fawning and fussing, but eventually, as it always did, it became tiring. He had been home only a month when he became irritatingly bored with himself and annoyed with his mother and finally realised that he needed to find a job and move out. However, actually taking the steps necessary to make these things happen was more than a bit daunting; he'd never lived fully on his own before and had, moreover, earned Professor McGonagall's disapproval by never settling on a career plan in their sessions. The truth was that Peter had never been much good at seeing past the nose on his face, thinking that there would be plenty of time to think about his future 'later.' It didn't take long for him to realise that 'later' had indeed arrived and was now staring at him, impatiently, waiting for a decision.

While he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life, Peter was clever, and he knew what he didn't want. And what he didn't want was to feel useless and dominated by his mother for the rest of his life. So, at James' suggestion, Peter had sent an owl to Lily to ask for her help and was delighted when she arranged an interview for him at the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Transport.

******

Peter had never set foot in the Ministry of Magic before. He had heard Lily's detailed descriptions of the Atrium entrance, the Fountain and the flying memos, but they paled in comparison to the reality of the wondrous place. As he entered the grand hall for the first time, Peter felt that this was a place where he could fit in, belong to, and do something important.

Stepping onto the lift, he consulted the scrap of parchment that Lily had sent.

Department of Magical Transport
Floo Network Authority - Sixth Floor, Room 621
Mr. Antiocus Sheffield, Director
21 July - 9:30 a.m.

Peter's nerves were in full flight. He wiped his sweaty palms across the new robes his mother had bought him, and his stomach began to squawk like an angry owl.

Pull yourself together, Pettigrew!

As the lift called out his floor, Peter sucked in a deep breath, smoothed down his hair, and adjusted his robes, then left the cab to bravely meet his future.

******

The Floo Network Authority was located in a giant room, filled with so many small cubicles that it brought to mind a rabbit warren. Peter was scurrying after his guide--a Mr. Polopolus--who had suddenly appeared at his side and was now escorting Peter to his interview. He had to walk fast to keep pace with the man who was providing Peter with a running commentary on their operations.

"Over there is Miss McKenny," Mr. Polopolus said, pointing to one of the cubicles. "She oversees the manufacture and distribution of Floo Powder. Big responsibility, that is."

Miss McKenny looked up from her mountain of parchment at the sound of her name and gave Peter a wink as they passed. She was a very pretty witch, and he blushed.

"These are the offices," said his guide with an expansive but unspecific gesture, "of our Regulatory Panel staff. About seventy-five work in that area. All approvals for fireplace connection requests go through there, of course.

"Over there is our International Unit. Rather self-explanatory, I'd say.

"Down this hall is the Network Logistics Service--the area you're applying for. Ah, here we are. Step inside and Mr. Sheffield will be with you in just a moment." And just as quickly as he'd arrived, Mr. Polopolus was gone.

"Thank you, sir," said Peter to the now-empty doorway, practically panting from his whirlwind tour. He turned and stepped into a small room that was furnished with only a small desk and two chairs. The room had no windows but was well lit; Peter wondered where the light was coming from. He sat down and then sprang back to his feet as an elderly wizard entered the room.

"Sit down, Mr. Pettigrew," said the man, gesturing to one of the chairs. Peter sat. The wizard looked to be only slightly younger than Dumbledore, Peter thought, but his long beard was flecked with black, and he had absolutely no hair on his head.

"I'm Director Sheffield, Mr. Pettigrew." He pulled out, unrolled, and quickly perused a parchment. "Yes, I see you are applying for a Regulator position in our Logistics Service. Do you have your curricula vitae with you?"

Peter handed over a scroll that contained his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. grades as well as recommendations from Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. Fortunately, Peter had passed his final year in Arithmancy, Transfiguration and Charms with reasonable grades, all of which were required for this position.

******

After the initial interview, Peter was escorted to the Logistics Section and handed off to its Supervisor, Broderick Stemwithers. Stemwithers was an average-size man with an average sort of face, appearing to be of average age and wearing the usual Department robes of dark brown. The only thing that stood out as being definitely not average were the man's shoes, which were astonishingly shiny, purple and made of dragon-hide.

"Applying to work with us, Mr. Pettigrew?" Stemwithers asked in a moderately deep voice.

Peter forced his eyes away from the sight of Mr. Stemwithers' amazing shoes. "Um, yes, sir. I hope so!"

"We'll see, won't we?" Stemwithers said with a kind smile. "Come this way and have a look at what we're up to, Mr. Pettigrew!"

Peter followed Mr. Stemwithers into a large, darkened room that was circular in shape. The workers sat at desks that formed an inner circle, facing the walls of the room. Overhead, projected onto the walls and monitored by the workers, were adjacent rectangles of lights, covered with layers of thin phosphorescent beams in at least a dozen different colours, each criss-crossing one another in no discernable pattern.

"What is that?" Peter asked, both amazed and perplexed.

"It's the Floo Network, young man!" boomed Mr. Stemwithers with evident pride. "Each rectangle corresponds to a different section of the country, and each beam corresponds to a connection link within that section. Have you ever been on the Muggle Underground?"

"Once, sir," said Peter, in awe of the complexity of a system he'd always used but never thought much about.

"Yes, well, it's a bit like that."

As Peter looked from panel to panel, he had a sudden flash of understanding. "You have to make sure the Network doesn't get all choked up or people would be bumping into each other, wouldn't they?"

Mr. Stemwithers chuckled and nodded with approval. "Or splinched together! Very astute observation, Mr. Pettigrew. It is our responsibility to make sure the Floo connections remain clear and flowing. Ah, watch Miss Simmons over there--she's spotted a problem." Stemwithers pointed to a section of an overhead Floo map, and Peter could see that a round dot had appeared in the middle of a green beam of light, which was growing larger and darker. "There is a blockage in the energy flow in that sector."

A witch, a tall, dark-haired woman of about twenty-five, stood at her desk and pointed her wand towards the 'problem' on the map and uttered an incantation. Peter noticed that she held her wand with both hands and a thin beam of white light was pulsing from its tip. As she continued to chant and hold her wand steady, the light stretched out until it made contact with the round, green dot. Slowly, the dot shimmered, and then grew smaller until it finally disappeared, leaving the straight, green beam whole and unbroken.

"Well done, Miss Simmons!" Mr. Stemwithers said with an approving smile.

"Thank you, sir. That sector in Manchester's been acting up all week. I think we should send someone to check for an energy leakage."

"Put it in your report, Miss Simmons." He gestured towards Peter. "Mr. Pettigrew here is applying for a position with us. Perhaps you can explain what just occurred."

Miss Simmons smiled at Peter, whose eyes were as wide as a Great Horned owl. "First time here, is it?"

Peter nodded. "It's incredible!"

"I remember being gobsmacked my first time, too." She nodded in understanding. "It's a bit much to see so much magic in one place!"

Peter was impressed that everyone seemed to take such pride in their work. He would be proud too, he thought suddenly, if he could get a job here!

"Well," continued Miss Simmons, "Floo connections are like magical chutes, or tunnels, except that they're made of magic. The Floo powder activates the magic, along with the spoken destination. It follows the same principles as Apparition, except the Network holds the magic instead of the person.

"Each Floo connection has a series of assigned stops, or grates. You can see them pass by if you peek a bit during your trip. And of course, there are hand-offs from one connection to another. Say you want to travel from London up to Newcastle: you'd be passing through about five different Floo connections to arrive at your final destination.

"So it's our job to make sure the magic flows uninterrupted. That's what you just watched me do: there was a leak in that connection and I had to fix it. But if it's a continuous problem, we need to send Repair to the site to do it directly."

"But what causes the problems?" Peter asked.

"Lots of things can cause energy leaks or fluctuations," said Miss Simmons with a smile, clearly enjoying the chance to explain her work. "Sometimes bits of things fall out of folks' pockets during transport and clog up the system. Sometimes a bad storm will disrupt the flow. Other times the Muggle utilities will decide to move some power line and muck things up."

Peter frowned in confusion. "Why should the Muggle--thing--be a problem?"

Mr. Stemwithers chuckled again. "The Ministry decided to lay out the Floo Network to avoid Muggle utilities: electricity, gas, water lines and so forth. Since the magical properties of the elements that run through their system could interfere with our operations, we need to make sure that our Network and theirs don't cross paths. Despite our best precautions, though, it happens from time to time. There was a blackout in South London a few years ago when their electrical grid came into contact with the Network. It left the poor Muggles without power for days! The problem runs both ways, but we're the ones that have to keep an eye on it.

"Thank you, Miss Simmons," he said with a nod as he led Peter away, and the witch returned to her work. "So, what do you think, Mr. Pettigrew? Do you think you would like to join our little team?"

Peter nodded enthusiastically. He could feel the magic in the room pulsating, connecting not only the Floo Network, but also the people who worked here. He didn't know why he felt drawn to it, but suddenly, he knew that it was something he had always wanted.

"Oh, yes. I'd be honoured if you'd let me be a part of this," said Peter sincerely. "I'll do my very best for you, sir! You can count on me!"

*********

A/N: The Origins of Magick has been adapted and, in some cases, quoted directly from JOdel's wonderfully persuasive essay, "The History of Magic," used here with her generous permission. It can be read in its entirety on her website, Red-Hen Publications:

http://redhen-publications.com/HistoryofMagic.html

Thanks to my ever diligent beta, celtmama, who can sniff out an errant comma a mile away. And many huzzah's to ferporcel and minuet 99 for hunting down all the remaining, yet elusive, goofs.