Slugging It Out

Chapter 5 - A Fall Into Grace

The last Quidditch match of the year was against Gryffindor. The Slytherin team trained harder than ever, and in all weathers. Given the animosity between the two houses, the game was bound to be a bitter battle, both on pitch and off. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws began to take sides - mostly with Gryffindor - and even those Slytherins who usually turned their nose up at Quidditch began discussing earnestly what tactics Lucius should employ.

Lucius himself was irritable and tense, snapping at everyone. Severus kept his head down as he scurried to do the older boy's bidding. Narcissa, worried about how late her boyfriend was working in order to keep on top of his homework, made the mistake of suggesting that perhaps he should ease off on the Quidditch practices a bit. The resulting row ended up with Narcissa telling Lucius he could forget being her boyfriend, not that she'd notice the difference for all she saw of him, and Lucius accusing Narcissa of lacking proper Slytherin pride. He was in an even worse mood after that, and Roddy ended up with antlers after he tried to lecture Lucius on attacking formations.

The day of the game was the worst possible weather - high winds and heavy rain. At breakfast, Lucius sat poking at his porridge, casting the odd furtive glance to where Narcissa sat with her friends further down the table, pointedly looking in the opposite direction. Severus was trying to waterproof Lucius' cloak, a tricky spell to apply across an entire garment. Macnair and Blackwell, not boys to be greatly bothered by such mercurial emotions as anxiety, were eating steadily through a large pile of bacon and eggs.

Roddy, still with vestigial bumps on his head from the antler spell, sat down opposite. 'Malfoy,' he said coldly.

'Lestrange,' replied Lucius, glancing again towards Narcissa, who happened to catch his eye. She immediately went pink, and turned her attention to Rodolphus, wiggling her fingers in a silly wave quite unlike her and giving a smile that even Severus recognised as flirty. Lucius looked away furiously, his eyes falling on Severus. He snatched the cloak. 'Oh for goodness sake Severus, do I have to do everything myself?' he snapped, getting to his feet. 'Come along, we haven't got all day to sit around eating, some of us are trying to maintain the pride of Slytherin!'

In the dressing room the atmosphere was even more tense. No one liked playing in bad weather, and the fact that the team were barely speaking didn't help. Severus followed Lucius, fetching and polishing, afraid to speak. When they emerged onto the pitch, they could barely see the tops of the stands. The warm red and gold of Gryffindor stood out a lot better than the Slytherin colours, making it look as though they had no support. Severus tucked himself in as best he could near the changing room doors, holding a flask and a spare cloak. Once the players were airborne they were swallowed by the gloom.

It was a miserable, low scoring game, which dragged on and on. The crowds grew more and more subdued as it got later, and the rain and cold permeated everything. Hooch called a pause, and Lucius landed briefly to have a drink and swap cloaks. He was so wet that his hair looked like translucent seaweed and his robes were almost black. 'We're ten points up, if only bloody Lestrange would grab the Snitch, we could all get out of here,' he muttered. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked exhausted.

'Won't they stop it soon?' asked Severus, helping his friend into the 'dry' cloak.

'Not until it's really dark. We're starting again.' He kicked off and soared away, into the twilight.

Severus huddled back next to the edge of the pitch again, staring up into the mess of rain and hurtling bodies that was the game. He wished the match would end - his fingers and toes were going numb. He barely even cared who won, although the thought of the mood Lucius would be in if Slytherin lost was not a happy one.

Then he saw a streak of scarlet diving from the centre of the melee, and above the howl of the wind the commentator shouted, 'Williams of Gryffindor has seen the Snitch! He's making a daring dive - will he make it? Yes! Williams catches the Snitch, Gryffindor win the game!'

Severus searched out Lucius, eventually seeing him almost overhead, slumping on his broom, about seventy feet up. Another pair of green robed figures converged on him, and Lucius' head snapped up. Probably Roddy, telling Lucius he should have used Ogden's Forthright Pincer. The cheering around the stadium was deafening, fuelled by relief at the thought of getting inside to dinner. Red and gold sparks erupted from the north end of the stadium, where the main body of Gryffindor house were sitting. Bright and blinding, the sparks were blown on the howling gale

From his angle, Severus was able to see what happened next through the dazzling air. Lucius shot forwards suddenly, bashing into his team mate. The next instant, he was off his broom and falling in seeming slow motion through the air. Severus' shout of horror was drowned out by the crowd and the wind.

The figure struggled as it fell, clawing the air as though to climb back up, blond hair streaming back in the wind. Panic rising, Severus looked around frantically. There was no sign of the referee, and the sparks obliterated the stands. Desperately, Severus pointed his wand. He didn't know any spells that would help, so he simply made an inarticulate sound and kept his mind focussed on his intention - slowing Lucius down before his friend hit the ground. He pushed into it every bit of his determination, reaching out through his wand, through magic into the air around him. Everything went blurry and slow and then, exhausted, he fell forwards onto the grass.

He woke up what felt like seconds later, feeling the cold from the ground seeping up through his wet robes. His face was against the grass, his head spinning. Someone grabbed at his robes, turning him over, and there was Lucius, with a manic look on his face. He was deathly pale and so wet that even his eyelashes were clogged with water droplets, and his lip was bleeding, and for a second Severus thought he might be an inferius. But his breath was clouding the air.

'Severus!' Lucius gasped. 'Are you OK?'

'I think so,' he said. To his surprise Lucius pulled him into a brief, tight hug. 'Lucius, you fell! It was such a long way...'

'I'm all right, it's all right,' said Lucius, although his voice sounded rather squeaky and he clutched Severus' shoulder so hard it hurt.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Professor Slughorn. His moustache was limp and dripping, but he looked pleased and excited, despite the fact Slytherin had just lost. He was staring at Severus in a strange, hungry way. 'Goodness me, goodness me, boys! Are you both all right? Did you pass out, Severus?'

'I'm fine, but Lucius ought to see Madam Pomfrey - he fell a long way,' Severus explained. Despite the way his head was spinning, he noted that Slughorn had got his name right.

'Of course, of course,' said Slughorn, with barely a glance at his favourite student. 'Good grief, you gave us a fright. The air was full of those blasted sparks - couldn't see a thing - until Severus performed his piece of magic. Up you get, now.'

Severus struggled to his feet and offered a hand to Lucius, who also managed to stand, although he kept a hand on Severus' shoulder for balance.

There were thuds as the rest of the Quidditch team landed around them. Roddy, unusually pale, stepped forwards but was elbowed aside by a hooded figure, which flung itself at Lucius with a wail. 'Lucius! Thank Merlin you're all right! I'd die if anything happened to you!' Narcissa hugged her boyfriend so hard he staggered slightly and all of them almost fell.

'Horace!' Professor McGonagall had arrived, also looking rather shaken. 'For goodness sake, get these boys inside!' She took one look at Severus, who was swaying slightly, and Lucius, who was now being propped up by Roddy and Narcissa. 'You're in no fit state to walk, either of you! Stretchers, now!'

'We don't need stretchers,' protested Severus, filled with horror at the thought of Potter and his friends seeing him getting carried into the castle. After all, it wasn't like he'd fallen off a broomstick. 'We can walk.'

An hour and several mugs of cocoa later, things were rather calmer. Lucius had finally stopped shaking, and judging by the amount of hair-stroking and cuddling going on, he and Narcissa were back together. Madam Pomfrey had healed Lucius' cut lip and confirmed that he had no other injuries. The rest of the Quidditch team, some still steaming slightly from the effects of Pepper-Up Potion, were gathered round, and Lucius was telling his story yet again.

'I just slipped straight off my broom, quick as that. Everything was really wet and my fingers were numb, it's a miracle that Roddy didn't fall too. I hardly realised what had happened until I was halfway down. Then I saw the ground and realised no one was stopping me...'

'We couldn't see a thing,' interceded Slughorn, as he kept telling everyone who'd listen. 'Those damn sparks, and the weather...'

'I was so close to the ground and I couldn't breathe. I was trying to relax and fall properly, but I didn't feel very relaxed! Then Severus appeared and cast a spell, and the air went thick and stretchy, and I slowed down. When I was a couple of feet off the ground, he passed out, and I fell the rest of the way.'

'A remarkable bit of magic from Mr Snape!' exclaimed Slughorn, gazing raptly at Severus, who sat quiet and watchful in his bed. 'We're all dying to know how you did it, boy!'

Severus gulped as everyone turned to look at him. Apart from Lily and Lucius, no one knew about his ability to perform magic without using specific spells. Nobody else seemed to do it, and he had a feeling it might be disapproved of. 'I didn't do much. I had to save Lucius, so I just cast a spell to stop him falling. That was all.'

'What spell did you use?' asked Slughorn, leaning forwards, his moustache quivering.

'One I found in a book.' He brazened it out, holding the teacher's gaze with his own inscrutable black eyes. Seeing Slughorn was about to ask more, he quickly added, 'I don't feel very well, could someone get Madam Pomfrey?'

As everyone hurried to fuss around him, Slughorn was forced to back off. Madam Pomfrey cleared everyone out, insisting that Severus ought to rest. 'A first year, stopping a falling body from that height! He's drained completely of power! The boy needs sleep. And Mr Malfoy had better stay too, just as a precaution.'

Finally everyone was gone, and it was just Lucius and Severus, lying in neighbouring beds and sternly instructed to sleep. Madam Pomfrey had turned the lamps right down and disappeared into her office. In the quiet and darkness, Severus realised how terrible he felt. The adrenaline of the past hours had gone, and was replaced by a cold dread. 'Lucius?' he asked softly.

'Yes?' He heard a rustle as Lucius turned over to face him.

'What Pomfrey said... I'm not going to lose my power am I?' The last words came out in a rush.

To his relief, Lucius laughed. 'Of course you're not. You don't get a finite amount of magic that can be used up! You've just worn yourself out. It's like... running a race. Afterwards you'll be very tired and can't run again until you've had a rest. But you will run again. Don't worry.'

Severus felt giddy with relief. 'Thank goodness! I think I'd rather die than lose my magic.'

'You have no idea, do you?' asked Lucius quietly. 'You really don't understand. What you did was... extraordinary.'

'Why? I've seen the teachers stop people fall before.'

'But they're teachers! They're fully trained, grown up wizards. You're a first year. And you don't even think anything of it. That's what made me notice you, that time you tried to run away. You do spells without even knowing them, and they work.' Lucius' face was just visible in the low light, his pale skin seeming to glow.

'Slughorn's suspicious now,' said Severus softly.

'Slughorn has just realised what I worked out long ago - you're remarkable, Severus.' He hesitated. 'You saved my life today. I'll never forget that.'

They were quiet for a moment, embarrassed, then Severus said, 'What if Slughorn keeps asking questions? It's not normal to do magic like I do.'

'Tell him the truth. You've got a talent for inventing things, I suppose. It's a strength, not a fault. Sluggy likes people who are different, who can do things others can't. Listen, he might be a strange old coot, but he's a very useful man to know, especially for someone like yourself, without family connections. Slughorn can open doors to get you any career you want. And he can stand in the way of those he dislikes just as easily. He's interested in you now. Take advantage of it.'

'You mean... the Slug Club?' He whispered the hallowed words.

'Yes, the Slug Club. Play your cards right, Severus, and I'd be very surprised if you didn't get an invite. Just play to his vanity. Let him think that he's inspired you and taught you everything you know. You might be a little oddball, Severus, but you're talented, and Slughorn won't be able to resist that. Trust me.'

*****

'Will you stay still!'

Severus' scowl deepened even further. He was standing on a chair in the common room with his arms held out, trying to ignore the sniggers and glances of his housemates. The sleeves of Lucius' old dress robes hung limply over his hands. Narcissa tutted and frowned, before tapping the sleeve again. A band of material fell away, and she muttered another spell which made the ragged end start stitching into a hem.

She stepped back to review him critically, glaring at him with almost as much dislike as he was at her. 'He looks like a goblin refugee,' she said. 'He's so scrawny...'

'I'm not scrawny!' Severus protested, crossly shaking out the flapping sleeves and jumping down from the chair before anyone decided the robes needed further adjustment.

Lucius seemed to be highly amused by the whole thing. He'd been in a good mood ever since the end of year exams had finished. 'You look very grown up,' he assured Severus, smirking. 'Good job with the sleeves Cissy - I'd never have had you down as a seamstress.'

She sniffed. 'If you expect me to start darning your socks for you can think again. Now shall we get going? We're late already.'

'It's fashionable to be late,' said Lucius, taking Narcissa's arm and ushering her out, followed closely by Severus, whose overlarge robes made a whomping noise as he moved. All the same, he rather liked his new clothes. He felt as though some of Lucius' glamour might have rubbed off on them.

Slughorn's rooms had been transformed for the occasion, hung with silken purple and gold fabric. Fairies fluttered amongst tiny floating silver lights. Some sort of lively music was playing, and house-elves wove their way amongst the guests with huge silver trays of food. The room was full of people - some students, but mostly adults, and all of them dressed in wizard attire. Severus felt a frisson of fear and excitement and giddy joy as he entered.

Narcissa stopped to speak to a witch in lime green robes, and the boys went another step before they were greeted by a young woman with dark hair and heavy lidded eyes. She was wearing a black dress, despite it being summer, and a stylish pointed hat with a silver motif. 'Well, well, Lucius. Nice of you to join us,' she said, in the posh voice that Severus recognised as 'old family'.

'Bella, what a pleasant surprise.' Lucius spoke lightly, but his words sounded ironic and insincere, as was the smile he flashed her. 'What brings you back to Hogwarts?'

She shrugged. 'Poor old Sluggy practically begged me to come.' She looked around the room. 'I'd forgotten how small Hogwarts is.'

'Either that or you have grown bigger,' suggested Lucius, causing Severus to snigger. The woman's gaze locked onto him and gave him an appraising stare.

'No need to ask who this is - Roddy told me you'd found some silly first year to act as your lackey.' She looked him up and down. 'Does it do tricks?'

Lucius smiled again, his eyes remaining hard and cold. 'Severus knows when he's on to a good thing. Sluggy has him down as a man to watch. Severus has a reputation for knowing more curses than half the school.'

'And do you?' asked the woman named Bella.

Severus shrugged. 'People confuse 'knowing' with 'being prepared to use'.'

She smiled, a rather unpleasant expression on her. 'It does do tricks. Well, one thing I can say for you Lucius, you usually have good taste in possessions.'

At that moment Narcissa joined them, and rushed to hug Bella. 'Bella! I didn't know you were coming!' The two leaned in and made kissing motions in the air next to the other's cheek. Severus noticed Rodolphus had also sidled over, and was standing next to Lucius.

The two girls broke apart. 'Lew, have you done introductions? Honestly! Bella, this is Severus Snape, a friend of Lucius'. Severus, this is my older sister, Bellatrix Black.'

He held out his hand to shake hers, but Bellatrix just laughed at it. Roddy put a proprietorial arm around her and said, 'My future wife!' He gave Bella a very soppy look. She ignored him and held out her hand to reveal a huge diamond ring.

Narcissa squealed and nearly dropped her glass. 'Why didn't you tell me?! When did Roddy propose?'

Whilst Narcissa exclaimed over the ring, and Roddy hulked in the background looking uncomfortable, Severus took the opportunity to quietly ask Lucius, 'Aren't Roddy and Bellatrix really young to get married?'

Malfoy replied equally quietly, without taking his eyes off the others or moving the fixed smile from his face. 'If Bellatrix told Roddy to wrestle a manticore, he would. Roddy wasn't in the front row when brains were given out.' He caught Severus' eye and gave a sudden grin that was almost mischievous. 'Let me show you round.'

They circulated in the room, Lucius pointing out the great and good of wizarding society. 'That guy over there is Horatio Blowhorn - made his fortune in newt parts, owns the Montrose Magpies. New money,' he added dismissively. 'And that's Barnabus Cuffe, he writes for the Prophet - you'll have read his stuff. And see that plain chubby woman over there? That's Miranda Goshawk, author of the Standard Book of Spells series. She's stinking rich now of course.'

Severus gaped around, drinking in everything Lucius said. 'And they're here, with us?' he asked at one point. 'I mean, we can talk to them?'

'Of course, it would be a very dull party if no one talked to each other! This is Slug Club, Severus. These parties where he has ex-Sluggers along are a great way to meet people. When one is still at school, one gets to meet people who will be useful in later life. When one has left, one comes back to show off how well one's done, and Sluggy can have a little gloat about it too.'

'What if you haven't done well?' asked Severus, watching a very beautiful witch arriving on the arm of what appeared to be a vampire.

'Ex-Sluggers nearly always do well - he makes sure of it. For the ones who don't amount to anything... well, I imagine old Sluggy just stops inviting them.' Lucius shrugged.

'Severus! Lucius!' Slughorn was bearing down on them, dressed in the same purple as the decor and with his moustache waxed into points. He was holding a half-empty glass and judging by the redness of his face and loudness of his voice, he'd had plenty more. 'There you are! Fashionably late as always! I know you, Lucius, probably spent an hour in front of the mirror!' He nudged Lucius, completely missing the look on the boy's face. It was true, though; Lucius was always immaculately turned out and in Severus' opinion spent far longer fussing with his hair than was necessary. Severus himself seldom looked in the mirror, let alone styled his hair.

'So, what do you think of your first Slug Club get-together, eh Severus? Impressed, I expect! A veritable who's who of the country, I think you'll find. Representatives here from every walk of life - that is to say, every desirable walk of life. Name your interest, someone here will be an expert!' Slughorn paused to slosh back some more wine. 'Now, who shall I introduce you to? Ah, I know just the man!'

Severus found himself propelled through the crowd towards a dark haired wizard with a neatly trimmed goatee beard and moustache. It looked as though he spent as long at the mirror as Lucius did. 'Ernest! Good of you to come, old chap!' boomed Slughorn. 'And how's your lovely wife? Not able to make it today?'

'Working aboard at present,' replied Ernest, looking at Severus with some interest.

'Ah, what a shame! Do remember me to her, and thank her for that splendid claret she sent me. Hit just the right spot! Now, let me introduce you to young Severus here. He's a natural innovator! Severus, Ernest Micklethwaite is an expert on theoretical magic and a first class spellmaster. He can tell you all you need to know about innovation!'

Not sure what a spellmaster was, Severus stared up at Ernest, who returned his gaze levelly. He had dark, twinkly eyes and a clever sort of look about him. 'A natural innovator, hmmm? That's unusual. So, you like inventing spells?'

'I suppose so,' said Severus, feeling out of his depth and wishing Lucius would materialise to take over the conversation.

'Or perhaps you don't do it consciously?'

'I just... do what I want. If I want to do something, and I don't know the spell, I try anyway.' He shrugged his shoulders. 'I don't understand why everyone doesn't.'

Ernest smiled. 'Lack of ambition. The truth is, it's hard work to perform controlled magic without the use of specific spells. Inventing spells is a very particular skill, and one that few wizards bother with. Usually it's the preserve of those with a natural flair - very often from the fine house of Slytherin.' His smile broadened. 'It goes with the typical character - resourceful, ambitious, unwilling to accept the boundaries and laws that others comply with.'

'It doesn't always work,' admitted Severus. 'And when it does, I often can't do it again. How do I invent spells that work forever - like in a book?'

'That is a very good question. There's a big difference between doing a piece of intentional but innovative magic, and inventing a specific spell. Intentional magic without spells is one thing - some people are better at it than others. But as you've found, replicating the effect is even harder. For a new spell to have been truly invented, it must be replicable by others, with a consistent and reliable method. At the extreme end of magic - the very difficult stuff - spell creation is harder to define, as maybe only the inventor has the skill to perform it.'

He glanced around the room before continuing. 'Take for example, the Dark Lord. The greatest living wizard, without a doubt. The magic he performs is extraordinary. Magic that has never been seen before in this world. But few, if any, could replicate his success. He is innovative, but he does not create 'spells' as such.' He gave a little cough, as though embarrassed to have said this.

'The leader of the Death Eaters? Do you know him?' asked Severus, eyes wide.

Ernest looked alarmed. 'Of course not, just hearsay,' he said, rather too quickly.

Severus stored away this for further reference. 'So if I wanted to create a spell - a proper spell that has a word and other people can learn, and works every time you try it - how would I do that?'

'You need to work hard.' He scrutinised Severus' face again. 'Yes, I can see you have focus. You will already have learned about intent in your classes. As you grow and develop your powers, so you learn how to adapt your basic set of spells to enable you to perform a wide variety of magic. So Wingardium leviosa will allow you to not just lift an object off the ground, but move it laterally in the air, make it hover, or drop.'

'I can do that already,' said Severus, smugly.

'Adapting existing spells is commonplace. Wizards do it all the time, some more successfully than others. Creating new spells is a different matter. Few even think to try, as most effects can be achieved by using the basic spellset, or combinations thereof, coupled with intent. Inventing separate spells for certain things is useful though, for several reasons.'

He began to count them off on his fingers. 'Firstly, a specific spell is almost always faster. Therefore are good in emergency situations, such as a duel. Hence why there are so many different curses and jinxes out there. Secondly, specific spells are often stronger because they are more direct. Thirdly, you can link the spell to a specific counter-spell. That means that it is harder to break the spell.'

Severus nodded eagerly to show he was still listening, and Ernest Mickelthwaite continued. 'So to invent a spell, first you need to practice it until you can do it consistently. You then need to find a suitable magic word and wand movement, and work until they are attached inextricably to your spell. There's lots of trial and error involved. It takes a long time. Then you can give it to others to use, and they should be able to replicate it.'

'And if I do all that, and it works - I mean, other people can do it and get the same effect - then I'll be a spellmaster?' asked Severus breathlessly.

Now the older man did laugh. 'No, not quite! 'Spellmaster' is an official title, earned by those who gain a reputation for having invented a number of spells. Still, everyone has to start somewhere.'

Severus felt a hand on his shoulder and looked round to see Lucius, who smiled at Mickelthwaite. 'Hello, Professor. How are you?'

'I'm very well thank you... Malfoy, isn't it?' Seeing the surprise on Severus' face he explained, 'I did a stint as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher last year. Just for a year - I made it clear I was going to leave of my own free will before any curse got me. And believe me, a year was more than enough.'

'You're not coming back then, sir?' asked Malfoy, with what appeared to be genuine regret.

'Not for all the gold in your father's vault,' said Mickelthwaite shortly.

Malfoy and Mickelthwaite began chatting about people they knew. Severus looked around surreptitiously. The room was so full of people it was hard to see, especially as Severus was a foot shorter than most of them. He could hear Slughorn's booming laugh even over the hubbub. Then he heard two quieter voices nearby, and saw Narcissa and her sister in a corner of the room behind them. '...more exciting than you can imagine,' Bellatrix was saying, staring intensely at her sister.

Narcissa's face was hard to read and her voice softer. Severus wished there was a spell to make it easier to eavesdrop. Maybe he could invent one. As it was, he only caught snatches of Narcissa's reply. '... not approved of... talk of a ban... leave it to others... hardly befitting a Black.'

Bellatrix was easier to hear, as her voice had a wild, excited edge. 'Befitting a Black? What does befit a Black? Cowering away from Muggles? No, Cissy. Wizards are going to reclaim this country, and when that happens, the Blacks are going to be right at the forefront. Or this one is anyway. You can carry on simpering away looking like butter wouldn't melt but I am going to fight!' She threw her hair back over her shoulder and strode away, nose in the air.

When they got back to the common room, Severus was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open. Lucius was in a good mood but Narcissa was quiet and withdrawn. When Lucius pulled her hopefully towards his dormitory, she said, 'Not tonight,' and kissed him demurely before going off the girls' dormitories alone.

A scowl spoiling his handsome features, Lucius turned to Severus. 'What's the matter with her?' he asked.

Severus barely heard the question. He was in the middle of a daydream about being the greatest spellmaster ever. As they headed for their dorms, he said, 'When I grow up, I'm going to be famous. I'm going to invent spells and do new magic that no one's ever seen before. I'll amaze everyone.'

'Will you indeed?' said Lucius, amused despite himself.

'Yeah, and I shan't tell anyone else my spells, so they'll just be mine.' He paused. 'Or maybe I'll tell you, Lucius,' he added thoughtfully.

'I suppose I should be honoured. Now go on, get to bed. You're not famous yet, and tomorrow morning you've got my trunk to pack and my boots will need cleaning. Good night.'