The Worm That Turned

Chapter 11 - The Deal Renewed

Lucius and Narcissa's baby was born on June 5^th, and given the faintly ridiculous name of Draco. Severus was certain this was Narcissa's choice - he knew Lucius had been all for calling the boy after himself. Everyone commented on how much like Lucius Draco looked. In Severus' opinion, this was simply a way of ingratiating themselves, since the baby looked nothing like Lucius. It was bald, red, flat-nosed and chubby-cheeked, and looked exactly like any other baby he'd ever seen.

The boy was added to the long list of triumphs in Lucius' charmed life, and Malfoy became quite a bore on the subject. Anyone would think the baby was something wonderful. Lucius was forever boasting about how Draco had achieved some task of mind-numbing simplicity, as though it were a remarkable feat.

The inner circle however were occupied with the search for another baby entirely - the boy in the prophecy Severus had overheard. Dumbledore had of course taken steps to prevent the Death Eaters discovering his identity. Severus tried several times to get the information via St Mungo's, but it was to no avail. Dumbledore had thought of everything. Dates of birth on medical records had vanished, and paperwork pertaining to births likewise. The big book at Hogwarts that kept track of students was removed to a vault deep within Gringotts.

Voldemort was surprisingly relaxed about it. 'We will find him sooner or later, they can't keep him hidden forever. We mustn't get impatient.' The last comment was directed at Bellatrix, a woman whose middle name should have been 'impatient'. Bella favoured what Lucius called the 'King Herod approach'; simply killing every baby under a year old in the country. It wasn't clear if she included her own new nephew in that, although it wouldn't have surprised Severus if she did.

Only the inner circle knew of the prophecy. The rank and file Death Eaters had no knowledge that their master was under threat from a mysterious child. After their setback with the Pillar, things were looking up again. The entire populace was terrified, resistance looked ever more futile and desperate, and the Ministry was increasingly cowed in the face of the Death Eaters. International indignation over the Pillar hadn't quite translated into action. The International Confederation of Warlocks had condemned the 'civil war' in Britain, but condemnation alone was not enough to stop the Death Eaters.

In fact it now seemed that - other than the prophecy boy - the only obstacle in the way of victory by Voldemort was Albus Dumbledore. It made no difference how well they did elsewhere, Dumbledore never seemed any less intimidating of a foe. Voldemort intimated that he would eventually deal with Dumbledore, but was awaiting the completion of some unknown 'preparations' first. On the plus side, they now had a spy within the Order. The identity of the person was the closest guarded secret of all, but Severus was certain it must be Sirius Black. He was rather irritated to find himself on the same side as his hated foe.

However his annoyance about Black was eclipsed by his increasing anxiety about being on the opposite side from Lily. It was now more than a year and a half since he'd last seen her, on the day of her wedding. Potter occasionally popped up in tussles with the Order, but of Lily there was no sign and no word. He prayed that meant she'd given up on her resistance role. Perhaps Potter had convinced her to leave the country for her own safety. But he knew Lily too well to really believe that. It was far more likely that she was engaged in some sort of high-risk secret mission.

Severus lived in dread of a scenario where he had to fight directly against Lily. Sometimes he woke up in a cold sweat, having dreamt he was in that situation. He often agonised over how he should react if - when - it actually happened. Protecting Lily without appearing to do so would be very difficult - but the thought of not trying to help her was unbearable, even though she was a capable dueller and not exactly a damsel in distress.

Unfortunately, in the summer of 1981, a year after he'd overheard the prophecy, he found himself faced with just that prospect. Voldemort had been getting increasingly angry about the Order's interference with their plans for some time, no doubt not helped by his frustration that the identity of the 'prophecy boy' remained unknown. Severus was preparing to apply again for the Dark Arts job at Hogwarts, and was dreading what would happen when he was yet again proved unsuccessful, as he surely would be.

At a meeting of the inner circle one sultry early summer evening, Voldemort announced that they were to launch a mass attack on the Order of the Phoenix. 'I have received intelligence that the Order plan to meet at Dumbledore's country house on the evening of July 10^th. All of them will be there. I will take a small number of Death Eaters to create a distraction for Dumbledore, and in the meantime all other Death Eaters will attack this house and wipe out as many Order members as they can.' He looked around at his inner circle. 'And I mean, all. I want the biggest numbers we can get. Lucius, Augustus, you can oversee. I'll put you on brooms.'

Lucius looked dumbfounded at this and Severus had to kick him before he said, 'Yes, my Lord.'

Looking amused, Voldemort continued. 'The best duellers will go in a first wave to take full advantage of the surprise. We block the exits and prevent apparation as is standard. Once any immediate defences are breached, the rest go forward in a second wave. We will outnumber them, but we must be careful. Many of the Order are skilled duellers and will not go down without a significant fight. We need to think carefully about what spells to use.'

'We'll just kill them all!' gasped Bellatrix, wetting her lips at the thought.

'That's very well, Bella, but not everyone has your ability to cast the Killing Curse, especially not several times in a row. It is too difficult a spell, and too dangerous to use in a melee. No... we need something else... something that maximises damage whilst minimising effort...'

'My Lord?' asked Lucius. 'I believe I know the spell. Severus invented it.' Severus felt a flush of pleasure creep across his cheeks. 'It's very strongly bound. You practically only need say the word for it to work. Limited energy, limited intent.'

'And what does this curse do, Severus?' Voldemort turned his attention to Snape. It was like being put under a microscope.

'It is a slashing spell, my Lord. It causes numerous deep cuts on anyone it hits.'

'Could it kill?'

Severus answered immediately. 'Yes. A victim could bleed to death in a short time, depending precisely where the cuts were, and how deep. You can control the curse to some extent, making a slashing movement like so.' He demonstrated. 'Intent can help make the wounds deeper, but it is designed to be low effort for a caster.'

'I want to see this curse properly,' said Voldemort, and waved a hand. Everyone looked round involuntarily to see what the Dark Lord had done, but the room looked the same. Voldemort smiled slightly and continued, 'I would like a demonstration, Mr Snape. Who will try out this curse? Perhaps I have a willing volunteer?'

Suddenly everyone became very interested in the walls and floor. Voldemort stood over them, and Severus felt an irresistible urge to look up. Against their will, every pair of eyes turned back to the Dark Lord and fixed there. Voldemort prolonged their agony, sweeping his gaze theatrically from one end of the assembled faces to the other. Finally he said, 'Lucius.'

Malfoy made a noise like a small animal being trodden on. 'Yes, Master?'

'You will be an excellent volunteer... to cast the curse.' Malfoy nearly fell off his chair in relief. 'But who will be the victim? Who will assist the Dark Lord in this way? Come now, I am waiting.'

The silence stretched out intolerably, until Severus wasn't sure how he was managing to keep his mouth from shouting out that he would do it. Just as he could bear it no longer, the door to the church flew open with a bang, breaking the tension. Everyone jumped and started towards their wands.

Silhouetted in the doorway was a horrible sight. A drooping, withered figure, vaguely human shaped, which began to lurch towards them. A stench of rotting preceded it and a dark trail of mud lay behind. Voldemort smiled. 'We have our volunteer.'

There were nervous giggles of relief as Voldemort brought the Inferius into the centre of the room. Lucius rose to his feet and stood opposite the reanimated corpse, keeping as much distance as he could. His aristocratic nose twitched in disgust at the smell. 'Now, My Lord?' he asked, and after the Dark Lord's nod of ascent, he flourished his wand with unnecessary drama and said, 'Sectumsempra!'

The Inferius remained standing for a moment, then looked down at its body, rather puzzled. Gaping wounds had appeared across the dessicated flesh, the ancient clothing split asunder. Voldemort clapped his hands, and the monster disappeared in a cloud of dust. The nearest Death Eaters gagged and spluttered, covering their faces to avoid inhaling any more.

'Perfect,' declared Voldemort, returning to his throne. 'Easy to cast and remarkably damaging. It will give a large number of casualties - serious injured but not beyond help - which will distract the uninjured and make our job easier. You have done well, Severus. You too Lucius, for suggesting it. So it is decided. We attack on the tenth, and use Severus' slashing spell as our principal charm.'

The rest of the meeting was devoted to an in depth discussion of tactics and arrangements. Planning such a big attack was a major undertaking and Severus was called upon frequently to offer his logical mind and magical expertise. It wasn't until they were leaving the church that he had time to think about the personal repercussions the attack could have. A tingling sense of foreboding spread over him as he reflected that if ever Lily was likely to be present at a fight, it was this time. He was going to have to find her as soon as he could, and work to shield her. If he could get to her and knock her out, he could potentially disillusion her and hide her. That seemed like the best option, but it was a lot easier said than done. Why did life have to be so complicated?

*****

The day before the attack on the Order, Severus visited Malfoy Manor at Lucius' invitation. Dobby ushered him into the house and he was greeted in the hallway by Narcissa. 'Oh, it's you, Severus.' She sounded rather disappointed. 'Lucius isn't back from the Ministry yet.'

'That's no problem, shall I wait in the drawing room?' He headed for that room without waiting for ascent, and settled into one of the easy chairs. To his alarm, Narcissa followed him and stood opposite, holding onto the back of a chair. 'Is everything all right?' he asked her, suddenly suspicious.

She hesitated. 'I don't know. It's Lucius.'

'What about him? Is he ill?'

'No, nothing like that. He's...' She stopped, and took a deep breath. 'You're planning some sort of big... attack? Raid... whatever you call it. I know you are, he told me so. Tomorrow. And he has to go and take part in it.'

Severus waited for her to go on, and when she didn't he prompted, 'Perhaps so. What of it?'

'He's... he's not himself. I think... I think he's scared,' she said bluntly, a pink flush suffusing across her porcelain cheeks. She continued quickly, 'He's not a fighter. You know that. It's never been his style. All this fighting, all this danger - it's getting to him. He's losing his nerve. Those close calls you had, and Monty dying... it bothered him more than he let on. He doesn't sleep as well. He drinks more. He thinks I don't notice, but I'm not stupid. And now we have Draco...'

'What do you expect me to do?' he asked, nonplussed. 'Worried' and 'scared' weren't words that went together with Lucius Malfoy in his head. Lucius sailed through life. Worries and fears happened to lesser men. It wouldn't have surprised Severus if he'd discovered Malfoy employed someone to experience his anxieties on his behalf, in much the same way he offloaded his housework onto Dobby.

'I don't know! Help him. Talk to him.' She spread her hands. 'Goodness knows why I'm even asking you! I might have known you'd be no use. You always had the social skills of a walnut.'

'Narcissa, you're worrying unnecessarily. Everyone gets keyed up before something like that, but he won't be in any danger. He'll be on a broom, high above all the fighters, giving orders. He's not going to do any duelling. It's nothing. I'm going to be down there in the first wave and I'm not worried.'

'If you were attacked by a group of people being commanded by a man above them on a broom, who's the first person you'd aim at?' she demanded.

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. 'He'll keep himself well out of it.'

'Oh, where have I heard that before? Every other stupid 'mission' he's undertaken where he's assured me he won't be in the 'front line' only to arrive back having escaped within an inch of his life. Forgive me for being a little sceptical of your reassurance.' Somewhere in the house the baby began to cry, and she turned away towards the sound. 'Excuse me.'

She had barely left the room when he heard the front door opening and muffled sounds from the hall. Voices that were too soft to hear, until Narcissa said accusingly, 'You're drunk!'

A moment later Lucius appeared in the doorway of the drawing room. 'Severus, my old friend!' he announced, keeping a steadying hand on the doorframe. 'Fancy seeing you here, old bean! Dobby! Fetch us some drinks!'

The elf served them with neat tumblers of liquor. 'Your good health!' cried Lucius, clinking his glass against Severus' with just a bit too much force. He downed his in one and blinked, his eyes unfocussing momentarily as the alcohol slid down to his stomach.

'Are you all right, Lucius?' Severus asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

'All right? I'm never better!' He walked to the mantelpiece and grabbed another bottle, pouring himself another generous glassful. He thrust it into the air. 'Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die!'

'We're not going to die!' snapped Severus, putting down his own drink and walking over to take Lucius' from him. 'Listen to me, everything is going to be fine!'

Lucius caught his eye, and suddenly his pretence dropped. He sat down heavily in his armchair. 'There's nothing like having a child to make one more aware of one's own mortality,' he said, in a much quieter voice.

'Having a child doesn't make you more likely to die,' said Severus impatiently. 'This is just the drink talking. Sleep it off and you'll be fine in the morning.'

'It doesn't make you more likely to die, but it makes you more aware of what you'd lose. It's easy for you, old bean. You only have yourself to worry about. If I die, what will become of Draco?'

'You won't die, but if you did, he'd be fine. He'll have Narcissa, and a small fortune, and a manor house. He's not going to be orphaned or destitute.'

'But he'd be fatherless. A boy needs his father, Severus.' Lucius' voice slurred slightly. Severus, whose own father had been barely fit of the title, didn't feel well placed to comment. As if following his train of thought, Lucius added, 'When I first met you, you were such an odd little boy. All this talent, but no shape, no direction. You were lost. That's why you need a proper father, to give you guidance, keep you on the right path.'

Severus realised that the chief guiding force in his life had been Lucius, but inhibition prevented him from saying as much. Instead he pulled Lucius to standing and forced his friend to look at him. 'Listen, listen to me! We're going to be all right. We'll have each other's backs. It'll be just like all the other times, when we've looked out for each other. And whatever happens, no matter what, we don't leave without each other, OK? OK?'

Lucius took a ragged breath, and nodded. 'OK.'

'You and me, we've always stuck together. We're a team. We have a deal. Right?' Severus made the sign of the Death Eaters with his right hand and held it out to his friend, who hesitantly formed his own fingers into the same pattern and pressed them to Severus'. 'Between the two of us, we'll be all right. And if we're not... well, we'll be together, won't we? And anything is easier to face with a friend than it is alone.'

The grey eyes stared back into his, and Lucius looked stronger. 'Yes... we have a deal,' he said eventually.

'Exactly. We made a deal to help each other. It's got us both to where we are today. Without it, we'd both be far worse off. So we keep the same winning formula. We help each other, and we succeed.' He wasn't sure where the words were coming from, and whether he believed them or not, but it seemed to be working. Lucius' eyes were focussed and his face harder. Traces of the familiar haughty Luicus were reappearing. 'Neither leaves without the other,' Severus repeated.

'Will you swear to it?' asked Lucius.

'I swear it on my life,' said Severus straight away, without hesitation.

'Good,' said Lucius, sounding relieved. He moved his hand away, and crossed to the bookshelf. He retrieved the photograph album he'd looked through on Monty's death, and turned through the pages. 'Here,' he said, removing something and holding it out to Severus.

'What is it?' asked Severus, wrong-footed by this new unexpected development.

'I promised you a copy ages ago,' said Lucius. 'Take it now. To remind you of our deal.'

'I'm not likely to forget,' said Severus irritably, taking the photograph and pushing it into his pocket without looking at the image of him and Lucius. 'Honestly Lucius, this isn't such a big deal as you think. We're the more powerful side. We're going to win.'

'I hope you're right, old thing. I really hope you're right.'