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Chapter Three

9 November 1922

Severus stepped into the familiar shop and waited to be greeted. To his surprise, it was Garrick Ollivander who eventually came from the back. At a mere twenty-one and still apprenticing in wandcraft, he hadn’t quite honed the family skills of being eccentric and mysterious. The current Lord Ollivander was Garrick’s uncle, Alden.

“Lord Prince,” he acknowledged with some surprise. “Apologies if you were kept waiting. It’s our slow time for sales and we’re much invested in wand crafting at this time of year. If my recollection of my uncle’s records is accurate, you were matched with a fourteen-inch walnut with dragon heartstring. A wand for an intelligent, powerful wizard.” He cocked his head to the side as if sensing something. “And yet not the wand you carry.”

Severus let a faint smile show through. Prince had kept two wands in his home. The original from Ollivander’s and another he’d picked up in Hungary after obtaining his potions mastery. Both worked well enough for Severus, though he preferred the wand he carried.

He let the wand drop out of the bracelet and into his hand, letting it rest across both hands before stepping forward and offering it to Ollivander.

With a surprised, questioning look, Garrick accepted the wand, brows shooting up even higher. “Black walnut with unicorn tail hair and ground unicorn horn. Most curious. Cores I’d never think to pair with black walnut. The wood would seek to be mastered by another should its possessor fail it, while the cores are unfailingly loyal and, in combination, more powerful than even phoenix feather. A wand for a wizard who is powerful, clear of purpose, and opposed to any form of self deception. Most unusual.”

Severus smiled faintly and accepted his wand back, willing it back into his bracelet. “Even the most vigilant can be caught avoiding a painful truth, Master Ollivander.”

“But the wand knows your intent.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“And I am still an apprentice,” Garrick reminded.

“Yes, but I sense a great wandmaster in you. Which is why I’m here.”

“You came to see me?”

“Yes. I see your uncle at the ministry as often as not.” He summoned one of Ciprian’s toys, a stuffed dragon, from his bracelet. “I watched my nephew play with his toys and realized something quite astonishing in them. It put me in mind of a muggle proverb: necessity is the mother of invention. I think that perhaps great strides have been made in magic in such a quiet way, to suit a frivolous purpose, that we failed to take note of it.” He passed over the dragon. “Can you deduce how this works?” Severus had already pulled the charms apart on another dragon.

Garrick accepted the toy with a furrowed brow, feeling over it carefully. One of the Ollivanders’ family gifts was an incredible insight into the nature of magic. It was why they made such natural wandcrafters. “Curious. The charms are activated by the touch of a wand. Rather ingenious really. Even wandless magic won’t do. The activation spells seek the touch of wood fused with a magical core. I’d think it could even be tailored to recognize only one or a very few number of wands, though this isn’t that specific. It’s clever but not completely unique. Though they have refined the spellwork needed to apply the charms to make it possible to apply to a large number of toys at once, I’d think.”

“You’ve only seen the beginning of it. Activate the toy.”

Without question, Garrick tapped the toy with a wand and watched as it blew false fire and smoke drifted from its nostrils as the wings began to flap. “There are wand activated adjustments. Quite common in magical toys. Allows you to increase the ferocity. Presumably as a child ages or becomes accustomed. The lowest setting seems to be smoke, a rumbly sound, but little movement. Suitable for a babe, I’d think. I’ll admit the charm work on a simple toy is quite astounding but, again, not unprecedented.”

“Step about ten feet away from it,” Severus advised.

They both moved away and the toy went dormant. “Interesting. The toy reacts to the presence of magic.” He moved closer and the toy animated again.

“Yes. Though if you were away from it for a long period of time, it would need to be activated with a wand again. A wand,” Severus stressed.

“Yes, we’ve established that it is wand controlled. I fail to see…” he trailed off, brow furrowing. “Presumably the wand is required to prevent children from activating it or changing the settings on their own. Accidental magic is really wish magic, and the earliest form of wandless magic. It would be easy for a motivated child to change the settings or activate the toy when it was inappropriate. So the toy only reacts to a wand. And yet they don’t want the toy active when the child isn’t around…” His eyes rounded comically. “Goodness. That is a clever bit of magic. It reacts to the presence of a magical core. How fascinating.”

“That was my deduction as well. And it’s not the first thing, I don’t think, that’s tapping straight into the magical core and not waiting for magic to be expressed. But I don’t think spellcrafters have thought closely about what they’re doing.”

“What is your point in this?”

“You’re aware that Lord and Lady Malfoy have adopted a child?”

“The squib child? Yes, I’d heard.”

“Latent child,” Severus corrected mildly.

“Latent?”

“Squib is a misnomer at the least, designed to be demeaning. But we take it to mean there is no magic. And yet they have magic, but not channels. So, we could say that their magic is latent. It’s there but cannot be actively expressed.”

“You’re sure of this?”

“Quite.”

“And why are you telling me of all people?”

“I wish to commission a wand. One that taps into a magical core.”

Ollivander blinked several times. “That’s very dangerous.”

“It could be, yes. Which is why I’m visiting a wandcrafter rather than trying to make it myself. We have many conveniences in the magical world that are activated by wand taps. If one who was magically latent had a wand that tapped the core rather than the convention of touching our magical pathways, they could function quite readily in the magical world. Activate shrinking/unshrinking charms, use the lift in magical buildings, activate household runes, open the door to Diagon Alley…really, the list is endless.”

Garrick’s eyes were bright with curiosity. “There is the matter of legality.”

“It’s not illegal. I’m asking for a confidential proof of concept. If it works, I’ll take up the matter of legality with the Wizengamot.”

“I wouldn’t feel right about testing such a thing on a child.”

“Nor would I,” Severus hastily assured. “The son of my personal solicitor is a young man of twenty-two, magically latent, and attending muggle law school so that he can pursue a career outside the magical world. He has a brilliant mind. While his knowledge of muggle law could be a great benefit, I see no reason for the magical world to lose his intellectual prowess simply because we’re too lazy to figure out how to adjust our world so that he may live in it. Should he wish it, of course.”

Garrick smiled. “Very well, Lord Prince. Challenge accepted.”

– – – –

“Uncle!” Ciprian yelled excitedly as Severus emerged from the floo room. “Did my dragon help?” He ran up and gave Severus a hug, which Severus always found startling, but he’d gotten better about not showing it and returning the affection. The boy rather reminded him of Draco when he was a child. Not in looks, but definitely in exuberance.

“Indeed, it did. We popped over to the toy emporium so he could get a dragon of his own, while I purchased you an addition to your menagerie.” He handed over the wrapped package containing a stuffed nundu.

A few moments into Ciprian’s joyous effusions, Marcilla interrupted. “Severus, you have a visitor—the Earl of Blackmoor called about twenty minutes past. Hypatia is keeping him company.”

“Merlin help us all.” Phineas Nigellus Black and Hypatia Prince got on like basilisk venom and phoenix tears. Though Black was fourteen years older, they sometimes encountered each other socially, and it always devolved into cutting barbs.

He made it to the drawing room to catch the tail end of something.

“At least none of my children have ever tried to murder each other!” Lord Black bellowed.

“You disown them at such a rate they never get the chance!”

“How dare you question the way I run my house!”

“You pompous windbag! Coming into my home and—”

Severus pushed the door open. “It’s always a delight to see the Earl of Blackmoor, don’t you think, Mother?”

“I most assuredly do not!”

“Then I shan’t keep you as I’m certain there are other matters you need to attend to.”

His mother got to her feet and straightened her skirts. “I’d rather apply myself to anything than stay in a room with him, but I think I’ll design the house elves a new uniform for Yule. They do so love their little outfits.” She shot Lord Black a venomous look. “It’s quite a task since the Prince family elves all have their heads.”

“Why you—”

“I’ll thank you to mind your manners in a lady’s presence, Lord Black,” Severus said sharply then glanced to his mother. “Thank you, Mother.” When she’d left the room, Severus crossed his arms over his chest and shot Black a pointed look. “You choose to tolerate the decapitation of sapient creatures, so your indignation when it is remarked upon is laughable.”

“If you think I have one whit of control over what Elladora does, you’re quite mistaken.”

“Interesting that a man so willing to disown family members feels he lacks control.”

“You sanctimonious little upstarts.” While the words were hostile, Black sounded rather dry. “You dare question my control of my house when your own mother slanders the House of Black?”

“Is it slander if it’s true?” Severus asked, equally dry. “My mother has stated that no Prince elf will bond to the House of Black because of Elladora’s practice of beheading elves at the age of retirement and your habit of allowing it. It’s not slander when that is, in fact, the truth. For starters, I take no issue with her stance that your family’s treatment of sapient magical creatures is morally repugnant. And second, she brought the elf meet with her into the House of Prince. As long as she treats the elves with dignity and respect, I take no hand in how she runs the meet even though it’s under the auspices of my magical House.”

“Prince elves are known to be the best and yet you refuse to sell them to any living Black!”

“Did you think I could force her? If so, you have little understanding of how an elf meet works. The meet is under the protection of the House of Prince, but the elves choose who they bond to. The queen of the meet disavowed the House of Black, not my mother.” Well, his mother had also disavowed the Blacks, but her disavowal wasn’t the important one in these circumstances.

“Don’t lie to me boy. You sell those elves.”

“I most certainly do not! The bonding fee goes to the meet to cover the cost of the magical training of the bonded elf and support the meet. The House of Prince takes nothing. If you don’t like your circumstances, stop beheading your elves!”

“There are only four meets in the world and they’ve all refused to deal with me.”

“What can I say? Meet queens are a gossipy bunch.”

“You were always difficult.”

Severus snorted. “I most certainly was not. In my seven years schooling under your tenure as headmaster, I never lost a single house point. Considering your legendary dislike of your students, it stands to reason that I was not difficult.”

“That cannot be true.”

“Feel free to check. But did you really come here to chastise me about house elves and debate house points?” Severus was distracted by the question of his mother’s elf meet. Originally, Hypatia Prince died shortly after Severus. She survived him by only a couple months, dying of heart failure. Since she still lived today and her heart was quite healthy—he’d had her checked by a healer shortly after arriving in the past—Severus had to wonder if Gordian had killed her too. Had she suspected what he’d done to Severus? Or did it have something to do with the elf meet? Both?

It was around the time of Prince’s death that policies and law in Britain around house elves had changed. Historians wouldn’t have carefully documented the plight of the house elf, but after the 1920s, there were no more elf meets in Europe. Had Gordian been responsible for that? He made note to look into it. Breaking faith with a meet queen would have been disastrous to Gordian’s magic and possibly whatever family magic he’d still had. What a foolish and greedy man his brother was.

“I came here to discuss this foolishness about family magic you raised in the Noble Assembly.”

“Foolishness?”

“Yes! The House of Black will not indulge such nonsense. Being guided by magic.” He scoffed. “How absurd.”

Severus blinked a few times, not knowing what to say to that. “Then why are you here?”

“The Assembly listens to you more keenly than anyone. Even my old friends will not see reason, so you must talk to the Assembly and leave room for us to follow our old ways.”

“You mean new ways, since the old ways would be to heed the will of magic.”

“I’ll have none of it, Severus, do you hear me? None of it!” Black said angrily.

“I’m thirty-four-years of age and no longer your student, Headmaster Black. I’ll thank you to address me properly. And I will not encourage the Assembly to change its course, for that is what I think you ask of me. Three families hold out against their own magic. Against the magic that makes them part of the Assembly. If you can’t see reason, the Assembly can choose to suspend your seat.”

“You will not endanger my family’s place in society, Prince!”

Severus goggled at the enraged man. What was he so afraid of? “I endanger nothing, Black. You endanger your family and its place with your stubbornness. Just swear an oath to your own magic. I’m not asking you to swear an oath to me.”

“No! I acknowledge no magic with power over the House of Black.” Phineas was incensed, and there was a flush of angry magic in the air.

“Are you mad?”

“None shall control my house!” The magic in the room felt thick and cloying.

“You lunatic, you’re perilously close to renouncing your magic.”

“I firmly renounce the lunacy of family magic. It has no control over me.”

The room began to swim with smoky, grey magic. A spectral form rose up from the floor. The grim was so huge its head bumped the ceiling before it shrank to the size of a horse. “Phineas Nigellus Black,” the grim intoned, its voice reverberating, “the Great Mother created me to serve and guide the House of Blackmoor. Too long has this House strayed from the path. Too long have you dabbled in the blackest magics. Too long has this family severed its own limbs in service of its notion of purity. By wizards’ covenant with Merlin and the Mother, I was unable to act until the Earl of Blackmoor renounced me. So you have wished it, so shall it be. The Earl of Blackmoor you are no longer.”

“No! I do not accept. You haven’t the right!” Phineas raged.

Severus found himself pressed back against the wall by one of the Kielder unicorns, and it was the first time it had felt so solid. He felt shielded by the power of his family magics as Blackmoor magics swirled angrily in the air. He could feel the distress of the members of his house but somehow new the other unicorn and Ravenclaw’s roc were shielding those who dwelled within the house.

“The grim of the line of Blackmoor has been renounced. I call upon the magical heir of the Blackmoor line!” The grim’s voice rose in volume, making everything vibrate.

“No!” Phineas raged.

“Silence!” Whatever magic the grim had seemed to put Black in some sort of body bind.

A bright flash of magic broke through the shadows, and the wards trembled with violation as two people were forced past them. Severus mentally calmed the wards as the two people appeared in the room, obviously confused and frightened.

“Iola Black!” The grim’s rumbly voice reverberated off the walls. “Cast out daughter of the House of Black.”

Iola Black was probably close to seventy but looked near fifty, with grey eyes and black hair. “I hear your call, guide of my family. How may I serve thee?” she asked regally as she bowed.

“For what sin were you cast out, Daughter?”

“I fell in love and married a muggle, my lord. His name is Robert Hitchens.” She reached out and desperately clasped her husband’s hand.

The grim turned eyes upon Hitchens. “A muggle? Nay. Magical of the line of Coniston, now known as the House of Nott. The sphinx is a wily and clever guide. Their magic would indeed bolster the Blackmoor line. You have chosen well, Lady.”

“I am a muggle,” Hitchens insisted.

“The Lord Prince refers to your magic as latent, but magical you are, Robert of the House of Nott.” The grim turned its attention back to Iola. “Daughter, I call upon you to lead your family. Will you answer my call?”

Iola’s mouth fell open, but she quickly regained her composure. “Of course, my lord.”

“Will you again take up your former name of Black and vow to see your family walk in the ways of Magic?”

“I do so swear. I vow to always hear your council. May my actions always serve the Lady Magic.”

The grim focused on Hitchens. “Do you, Robert Hitchens, agree to join the House of Black, to bear their name and be adopted into their magic?”

“I’ll follow my lady wherever she leads.”

“Iola Black, Countess of Blackmoor, my first charge to you is to purify your family. Swear them to the cause of Magic. Only then should you take your husband into your family magics.”

“As you will it, Lord,” Iola said with a bow.

The grim faded out and the unicorn went shortly after. The sudden absence of magic in the air nearly took Severus’ breath away.

Countess Black and Bob Hitchens stared at Severus, both looking completely bewildered. “What has happened here?”

Severus glanced from Phineas Black, who sat twisting against invisible bonds, then back to Iola. He opened and closed his mouth several times, uncertain what to say. The disquiet of his family prodded his magic. “I’ll call an emergency session of the Noble Assembly after I tend to my family. I shall return to explain how we came to this. I don’t have any idea what to do with him.” He gestured to the former Lord Black.

Iola looked at her brother, a sad expression on her face. “I’ll tend to Phineas, Lord Prince. Bob and I live in a small magical village in Italy. Would it be too much trouble to avail ourselves of your drawing room until there’s word from the Assembly?”

“Of course, Lady Black. In fact, please consider yourselves my guests. I’ll have a room prepared for you and will adjust my ward matrix. You have a difficult undertaking, so please allow me to ease this burden.”

“I would be in your debt, Lord Prince. And please call me Iola.”

Severus reflexively extended the same courtesy, mind spinning on what had just happened. It looked like the issue of squibs was not going to be dealt with as slowly in Britain as he had previously thought.

– – – –

The emergency session of the Noble Assembly didn’t break until half past three in the morning. Severus felt magically drained after the events of the day. He was exhausted to such a degree that he wasn’t sure apparition was a good idea. Not wanting to interfere with his sleep, he took a short-acting restorative before getting to his feet.

Iola Black was waiting for him in the company of Septimus and Lord Nott.

“Severus, if you have another of those, I’d be indebted,” Septimus asked.

As Severus handed it over, Nott asked, “What is it?”

Septimus readily replied, “Severus created a version of pepper-up that only lasts about an hour. I never saw the need, but after being in these chambers with you lot for the last fourteen hours, I’m quite happy to have it so that I can get home safely and yet it won’t affect my sleep.”

“Oh.” Iola looked intrigued. “I don’t suppose…?” Severus willingly passed it out and even Nott accepted one.

Iola blinked a few times as the effect began. “That’s quite lovely. Thank you, Severus.”

He inclined his head. “Was there some urgent matter, or shall we depart?”

Lord Nott replied, “I’m not sure what to think of this business about latent magic, but there’s a resonance within the family magics when I think on it. I would like to meet this Hitchens fellow, see what part of the family he might be from. May I have permission to call around to yours tomorrow?”

“Certainly. Whatever Iola needs to handle her affairs.”

“Thank you, Severus,” she murmured. “Based on the discussion today, I do think it’s important that this body start introducing new legislation to the full Wizengamot. While I think a strategic plan is a good idea, there is so much to be done that minor changes can begin now. I know the Weasley family is still holding out…”

Severus sighed. In light of what happened to Phineas Nigellus Black, Lord Rowle had fallen into line, leaving just Evander Weasley still reluctant. Who knew the Weasleys could be so stubborn? Were they that ashamed that their family guardian was a nundu?

“We can’t hold out for one stubborn man,” Nott agreed. “I suggest we strategize tomorrow, Lady Black, and bring a proposal to the next Assembly. Evander can fall in line or be suspended from this body.” It took a ninety-percent majority to suspend a seat, and it was a move that Magic had to bless, so it had never before been done. Attempted, yes. Accomplished, no.

Septimus wouldn’t be sad about the Weasley seat being suspended, Severus knew. The origins of the Weasley-Malfoy feud were as absurd as they were annoying. Severus hadn’t wanted to get personally involved with anyone’s decision, but he resolved to ask for an audience with Lord Weasley if for no other reason than to put this issue to bed.

Weasleys.

Joy.

– – – –

“Libby!” Severus called out impulsively as he finished his breakfast. He was still exhausted from the long session at the ministry, but he’d never done well with sleeping in. His mother knew he preferred not having to deal with anyone but family over breakfast, so she had arranged a small private breakfast room for the Blacks.

Libby arrived with a very faint pop. “What can Libby be doing for Lord Severus?”

“Are you aware of the Malfoys new child?”

She nodded her head vigorously, ears flopping. “Oh yes, Lord Severus, Libby be knowing. The meet be buzzing about it.”

House elves were the biggest gossips. Libby was the head elf for the Prince family, but she had close ties to the meet since Hypatia was the meet-keeper. “I’m working on ways that those who are latently magical can better integrate with wizarding society, but I do think the young lad could do with the aid of a house elf. I still need to discuss the matter with Genevieve because we don’t want the boy being dependent upon an elf, but I wouldn’t have him disadvantaged either. Could you ask around and see if anyone would care to meet him? See if there’s a good fit?”

“Oh! Libby’s youngest be needing a bond soon, yes he does. My Dobby be loving working with a child.” She nodded decisively. “Libby be asking that Lord Prince be giving Dobby first choice.”

Severus sat up straighter. “Your youngest is Dobby?”

She nodded.

“Have I met him? If I have, I apologize for forgetting.”

“No, sir. When he be young, Libby be keeping him hidden in the way of all house elves. But he old enough to live in the meet now. He be very picky about a family to bond to. Would Lord Prince be wishing to meet Libby’s Dobby?”

“Yes, Libby, I would like that very much,” he said softly, caught up in memories.

A few seconds later, a young elf popped in. He was probably the equivalent of a teenager and wore mismatched socks, a hat, and the traditional white shirt and pants of the meet. But it was undoubtedly Dobby. Only about four times as enthusiastic as Severus remembered him being in life.

With a faint smile, Severus let him effuse about the possibility of bonding to the young Mr. Malfoy. Because of course a bond is to the core, so why couldn’t a magically latent carry a bond?

Dobby.

Severus wondered if putting him back in the path of the Malfoys was a good idea but decided to trust in whatever was at work.

– – – –

The altar was prepared with ground apophyllite and jasmine oil. Severus had taken to weekly mediations at the altar outside the circle in his ritual space in Prince Manor. He never tried to speak to her, but he always felt the brush of her presence. It always served as a reminder of what he was doing and why.

Today, however, he had a question. She might not answer, but he felt compelled to try. He’d been piecing something together in the six months he’d been in this time­—in this body.

He cast a circle and chanted the rituals to renew his magical vows and cleanse any taint on his magic. When that was complete, he knelt in front of the altar and lit the basin with magical fire. The crushed white crystal would only burn in a magical fire, and the flame was pure white.

He let his mind drift until he felt her then murmured, “Am I him?”

The wind stirred and there was a flush of gentle magic. “Yes, Severus.”

Opening his eyes, he found her standing in the circle. “That’s why everything feels right, why even this house and his ritual space feel right.”

“Yes. It’s not his, it’s yours.”

“You told me he moved on.”

“He did. You did. He became Severus Snape. It was the next step on his journey, one that he chose.”

“Why?” Severus felt more vulnerable in that moment than he could ever recall feeling before.

“You felt Gordian had brought ruin upon your line—you weren’t wrong. You also felt you’d been distracted by intellectual pursuits and had not paid enough attention to matters of duty and family. Reincarnation works best within a family line, and the Prince line was dying. He chose to be his grandniece’s child.”

“Why not tell me?”

“That’s not the way of it. Usually, when you come into the afterlife, all your memories of all lives return. But Severus Snape was caught in the web of time repeating, and so Severus Snape’s life never truly came to an end. The convergence of your past lives never happened.” She smiled faintly. “I should have guessed that you’d divine the truth of things. The Ravenclaw line are lauded for their intelligence, after all.”

“Intelligence without sense is pointless.”

“Something you learned after your first life.”

He felt something inside him ease. “So this is truly my life.”

“It was yours anyway, Severus. You need not try so hard to earn it.”

“He must have been terribly disappointed in the life I had.”

“Don’t disassociate yourself from him. You are him. And it’s you who are disappointed by the life Severus Snape had. You deserve this other chance—your other way. And no one may gainsay me on that.”

He smiled faintly.

“I’d blunted the emotions around the memories of this life and blocked the memories of your first afterlife. Now that you know the truth, would you like that removed?”

Severus considered carefully. “I would. I think it would help to feel less like two people.”

“There will always be two distinctly different lives, Severus. But I will grant you this. It will happen tonight while you sleep…while you dream.”

“May I ask one more question, Lady?”

“If I can answer, I will.”

“In light of what we’ve learned about latent magic… From what line was Tobias Snape?” Tobias Snape had to have latent magic, nothing else fit what he’d learned.

“Ah. A minor branch of the Gryffindor family.”

Severus felt his expression twist. “I’ll have you know that causes me physical pain.”

Her laugh echoed softly about the ritual space for many seconds after she vanished.

Chapter Four

13 November 1922

“Lord Prince!” a voice called out strongly as Severus was striding to the ministry apparition point. There was something familiar about the voice, but he couldn’t quite place it.

He turned and found a man near forty with short auburn hair and a tidy beard. It took him much too long to realize it was Dumbledore. He managed to display no outward reaction, but his heart began to race. He’d known he’d eventually see the author of the tragedy that was Severus’ second life, but he hadn’t thought it would be so soon. Since waking up on Saturday with the magical buffer on his emotions and memories gone, he’d been struggling more with this life than he had before. He wasn’t ready for Dumbledore when his emotions hadn’t yet settled.

“Can I help you, Mister…?” he asked coolly.

“Dumbledore. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore at your service.”

Severus blinked at the pompous introduction. “That’s rather a mouthful.” He shook his head at Dumbledore’s twinkly eyes and broad grin. “I’m sorry, your name is familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Have we met?”

“Not formally, no. You may know my name through advances I made in alchemy circles, but I’m currently a professor at Hogwarts. I believe I graduated the year before you began.”

“Ah. I was graced with your headmaster’s company last Thursday. And now here you are on a Monday. In November. Is Hogwarts not in session?”

Dumbledore’s laugh was a little too merry. “Indeed it is. Of course, it’s much easier for the headmaster to slip away during the school day than one of the instructors, but I felt it was worth canceling a class or two.”

“You abandoned your classroom to seek me out?” he asked incredulously. “Whatever for? I have no children of my own and my nephew is not slated to attend Hogwarts for six years yet, and even that wouldn’t be the business of a future professor. I don’t sit on the Hogwarts board of governors and have no say whatsoever in the goings on.”

“I’m not here on Hogwarts’ business,” Dumbledore confessed. “It’s more of a socio-political issue.”

Severus raised a single brow. “Hogwarts no longer has an owlery?”

Dumbledore feigned looking abashed. “I felt meeting in person was vital.”

He wanted to tell the not-old goat to fuck right off, but he felt it was better to try to get some insight into what he might be up to. “Very well.” He gestured for Dumbledore to continue.

“Perhaps we might step into a private room?”

“Perhaps not. It’s no secret that there was an attempt on my life barely six months past. I’m disinclined to acquiesce to any request for a private audience with someone I don’t know.”

“Surely you don’t think I’m going to try to hurt you.”

“I didn’t think my brother would try to kill me, and I had greater cause to trust him than you.”

“And if I make an unbreakable vow?”

“Oh very well,” Severus huffed.

Dumbledore cagily made a vow about his intentions and behavior for this day only, and then Severus led him up a level to where small conference rooms were located for the use of the Wizengamot.

Severus made an impatient gesture.

“The headmaster was in quite a state when he finally returned to the castle this weekend. His temper has been rather explosive,” Dumbledore began.

“That’s unfortunate. I know some nobles on the school board. I can reach out to them, though I’d think you should have approached them directly and not gone through me.”

“Oh, no no no. I’m sure Phineas would never harm a child. No, I’m more concerned about why he’s so angry. It seems that he somehow lost his title through means he wasn’t at liberty to discuss.”

“And you thought I would have insight into the magical matters of the House of Black?” Severus asked derisively.

“When he physically seemed incapable speaking on the matter, he had to settle for saying, ‘If you want to know, ask that damn Lord Prince.’ Pardon my language.” He smiled sunnily. “But your name came up recently in another context and the two combined have me quite curious.” When Severus only crossed his arms and cocked a brow, Dumbledore continued. “I went to school with Evander Weasley, and I couldn’t help but note he’s been conflicted of late. He asked for my counsel, and it would seem that you and I have advised him in completely different ways.”

“I haven’t spoken directly to Lord Weasley on any subject that I can recall.”

“Yes, well, he must have heard your counsel somewhere.”

Severus let his eyebrows answer.

“In any case, I did want to discuss this notion of family magics with you.”

“And why would that be?”

“Evander mentioned that he’s considering renewing his family’s connection to the family magics. To bring the old rituals and traditions back to his family. I must admit, I cautioned him strongly against this.”

“Again, why would that be?” Severus was legitimately curious. “How we relate to our magic is a deeply personal thing. And the choice you say he has before him is very intimate. Why would you interfere in such a matter?”

Dumbledore, even at the age of forty, had the I-know-best look down. “I know you were a Ravenclaw in school, lauded for being imminently logical. Surely you see how divisive family magics are?”

“Divisive?” Severus echoed.

“The magics are practically engineered to keep the purebloods separate from the rest of magical society. We must learn to integrate in the world in which we live—muggle, wizard, and everything in between. We cannot afford the separation family magics bring. Not when we are on the brink of seeing us all treated as equals.”

“I’d say you have little concept of how family magics work, and the concept of equal is a myth.”

Dumbledore blinked. “While I welcome knowledge to help inform a better opinion, I must disagree with you about equality. How can you question the idea of us being equal.”

“Because we are not equal. I believe that in many things there should be equal treatment, but not in all things. I believe purebloods should be held as accountable under the law as anyone. But we’re not all the same, and pretending otherwise is robbing our society of its richness. Across the breadth of society, some are smarter, some more powerful, some wealthier, some more attractive. You would let some of these differences lay while others you’d obliterate. When it comes to matters of magic, to try to make us equal is to make many less. You cannot make the weak more powerful, sir, but you can certainly set out to make the powerful weak.”

When Dumbledore seemed set to reply, Severus held up a hand. “I’m not finished. In terms of family magic, your perception of its purpose is simply wrong, though I will concede that most family lines have done a poor job of acting as steward. That said, what we call ‘family’ magic is line magic. You question Magic’s design when you say line magic is divisive.”

“Come now, Lord Prince, it is not Magic’s design but Merlin’s. I’ve studied the matter and I know the magical lines were handed down by Merlin. And for all that he was a powerful wizard, he was still just a man. We can revere his contribution but acknowledge that his ideas may be outdated, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think. Line magic serves a purpose. It could be Lord Weasley sees that letting that magic languish has not served his family. But it is not for you or me to decide.”

“Evander clearly thinks highly of your opinion, sir, but I fear you’ve been led astray and are, in turn, leading him astray,” Dumbledore said with great conviction. “I implore you to encourage your fellow nobles to abandon the notion of renewing family magics.”

“I’ll have no more of this conversation, Mr. Dumbledore. There may be opportunities for this to be debated with the Wizengamot but, until then, my ‘no’ will have to suffice.”

“Really, Lord Prince—”

“Good day.”

– – – –

Severus made it to his private chambers without any overt displays of emotion or temper but, once behind closed doors, he threw a nearby vase at the wall, feeling great satisfaction at the wide debris radius.

“That son of a flobberworm!” He ripped off his outer robe, throwing it over the settee. “How dare he try to order me about!” He felt the need to yell and scream. “There isn’t even anyone I can rant to about that bastard!”

“You can yell at me,” Nuada said as he appeared, lounging on the settee atop Severus’ robe.

“I wouldn’t presume, Your Majesty,” Severus said, trying to control his temper.

“Eh. I’ve told you to call me Nuada. Besides, She can’t pop into this realm willy nilly, but I can. And after hundreds of years of trying to course correct, I haven’t much to do but watch the fallout of whatever shite you’ve kicked up.”

Severus frowned, feeling some of the tension bleed away. “Surely you’re accustomed to long periods of time where the mortal world is playing out its drama again.”

“I wasn’t much involved at first. When my lady tried to nullify the threat of muggles by having me court war with them, I was involved for many years. I eventually called upon my son to lead the Wild Hunt to finish the war. I felt the magic of my realm fading from existence as the Hunt rode.” Nuada closed his eyes, shuddering. “Time was unwound immediately, and I devoted myself to aiding Magic until we were all saved.”

Nuada shifted to a seated position, bracing his arms on his knees. “She is limited in the direct actions she can take; she cannot subvert mortal will. But I am not so encumbered. I tried to nudge or persuade many a time—always watching, looking for opportunities to get these magical people to behave decently.”

He shot Severus a grin. “Believe it or not, I seem to get their back up.”

“You don’t say.”

“Come now, Severus, don’t pretend you don’t like me.”

“I’m becoming accustomed to you,” Severus was willing to concede. “Just how much are you interfering?”

“Not at all. She’s basically forbidden it unless you’re in mortal peril or you specifically ask for my help. The only thing I’m to keep an eye on is the Gaunts. If Morfin and Marvolo should seem to right themselves and not get sent to Azkaban then I’m to intervene, but I saw no indication that those dolts will sort themselves out any differently.”

“I suppose that’s somewhat encouraging.”

“The point is that if you have need of an ear, I can listen. I have little else to do.”

“Did you ever consider living a mortal life and raising him yourself?”

Nuada stared. “I can honestly say it had not occurred to me to try living as a mortal and raising Thomas. In part because I can’t pretend to be a wizard. Even though wizarding magic has roots in fae magic, they’re quite different now. Thomas needs to be a leader in this world. I could teach him to lead, I’m not sure I could teach him to lead here. And you have many advantages as his father, Severus, that I would not have.”

Severus was fixed on one part of Nuada’s statement. “Wizarding magic comes from the fae?”

“In part.”

“That’s a story I’d like to hear.”

“And perhaps I’ll tell you some day.”

Severus snorted. “You’re too blunt to do cagey well.”

“I’ll just say that Merlin and Morgan were part fae. It’s important that not be known at this time. Wizarding kind are too wrapped up in the mythology that they sprang from the Earth with all their magic. They’re too invested in the purity of it.”

He found that stunning, but it also made sense. Magic had to come from somewhere. “But that’s not the whole story.”

“Nay, lad. Though I think I’ll be able to tell you some day. You’re remarkably free thinking. For a wizard.”

“I’m not sure if I should feel complimented or offended.”

Nuada waved a hand as he got to his feet. “Be complimented. I find most wizards intolerable. Now, where’s that lovely whiskey of yours?”

Severus opened the cabinet and poured Nuada a healthy portion of firewhiskey. The fae king could likely drink the whole bottle and not suffer for it, but Severus rarely drank outside of meals.

Nuada downed the glass then took the entire bottle, sprawling out on the larger sofa and taking a swig. His silver hand, which looked and functioned just like a normal limb save for the silver, was wrapped firmly around the neck of the bottle. “Talk to me about Dumbledore.”

Anything Severus had thought to say about Nuada’s impudence went right out of his head. “I hadn’t prepared myself for him, and I should have. I don’t like being blindsided by my own shortsightedness.” He sat on the other end of the sofa, knocking Nuada’s booted feet out of the way.

“Is it going to be a problem?”

“Of course it’s a problem!” Severus snapped. He forced himself to take a breath. “But only for me. It won’t interfere with my mission.”

Nuada’s gaze was knowing. “I make a point of interrogating Dumbledore after every life, making him account for his actions.”

Severus lost control of himself and gaped.

“I took particular delight in making that session very unpleasant after the opportunity he was granted to have his older soul and his memories sent back to his younger self to try to right the situation.”

“And?”

“I’ve never met a being so convinced of being right even when confronted with proof of being wrong. Being shown facts that contradict his views meant nothing. He truly believed if given enough personal chances he’d be able to make things turn out properly.”

“His idea of ‘proper’ I assume?”

Nuada just inclined his head and took another drink from the bottle.

“Did you ever ask about his actions…toward me?” Severus asked with not a small amount of reluctance.

“I did.” Grey eyes seemed to see into Severus’ very being. “What’s your question?”

“Why? Any of it, really, but why amortentia? Why the ongoing compulsions and potions? Just why?” Severus hated the vulnerability around this. He’d never been willing to speak to Dumbledore in the afterlife even though he knew many others had chosen to confront him.

“You and Lily were too close for his comfort. I think if he’d realized you preferred the company of other men he’d have let you be. But all he saw was that Lily paid James no mind and spent all her time with you.” Nuada drummed his fingers on the bottle, the sound more tingy than real flesh would be. “When he was a young man, due to his academic performance, he was the youth representative to the Wizengamot.”

“I vaguely remember that. It was one of the first noteworthy events in his life in terms of recognition.”

“Yes. In his first visit as an honorary member of the court, he was given a full tour of the ministry, including the department of mysteries. An unspeakable took him through the hall of prophecies and explained how it worked—that only the person about whom a prophecy is spoken may handle the orbs but that anyone may make an appointment to see if there are any prophecies about them. The practice of doing so had long fallen out fashion as most realized how self-fulfilling prophecies were.

“Dumbledore asked to see any prophecies about him. At that time, there was one. Don’t expect me to quote it right because I think the language of prophecies is shite. But it basically said that the choices and actions of a man with regrets over a sister lost would be the catalyst for a new age of magic.”

Severus groaned. “Which he took to mean that he was a positive force in that change?”

“Aye. He saw it as his duty to ensure his vision of the world came to pass by whatever means necessary.”

“For the greater good,” Severus quoted, feeling bile rise in his throat.

“When Dumbledore heard the prophecy about James and Lily and how their child would be vital in bringing about the new age, it fit in with his idea of ensuring the new world. Any obstacle to them being together had to be dealt with. Dumbledore sought to drive you and Lily apart. He felt that Lily was too smart not to notice the symptoms of compulsion potions or behavior charms. But if you became obsessed with her? It was perhaps believable to most that your familial love for her could turn romantic as you aged. That if she didn’t share your interest you might become obsessive.

“Amortentia created the exact thing needed to drive you and Lily apart. Any time you saw her with another man, you’d become angry and sullen. Instead of being more than a match intellectually for the Marauders, you were too focused on her to match wits with their pranks. You became a target for bullying.”

“And if I’d only told Lily earlier that I was homosexual, she’d have never believed I was falling in love with her.”

Nuada shot him an incredulous look. “You were only fourteen when Dumbledore gave you amortentia. You’d barely come to terms with it yourself. It’s hardly your fault for not telling anyone about something you weren’t even ready to do.”

Severus waved away the reassurance.

With a heavy sigh, Nuada continued. “Dumbledore monitored the situation closely to ensure the outcome that Lily chose James. But, at that point, the damage to you was done. You were a loose cannon with a magically fueled obsession. Dumbledore needed to either kill you or control you. He actually believed it was better to control you for the rest of your natural life than kill you. He readily admitted he committed crimes against you but it was for—”

“Please don’t say it.” Severus stared at the floor. “I was nothing but a means to an end and not even a very useful one. And it was all so pointless. Was Harry’s purpose to actually deal with Dumbledore?”

“His purpose? No. Harry’s purpose is as it ever was, but sometimes fulfilling his purpose means dealing with some unpleasantness.”

Severus made a face. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Not yet. And before you get your robe in a knot, consider that trying to make a thing happen has historically not worked well. For all that you’re imminently intelligent and practical, I think even you would try set the board up in his favor. Which is why the only thing asked of you is that you raise Thomas well, give him every advantage you can so that he make his choices free of encumbrances.”

“But I am changing things. I am setting up the board, as you say.”

“She’s put no strictures on you, Severus, because you are as free to act on your own conscience as any other. The steps you take now are to make the world better for your future son. If she feels you’re trying too hard to engineer a specific outcome, she’ll have me caution you. Until then, you’ve given yourself the best guide you can in your line magics. Now, will you be able to deal with Dumbledore or shall I kill him?”

Severus choked on air and then sputtered for several seconds, not sure how to answer.

Nuada gave a beleaguered sigh. “She says I can’t kill him. I guess that raging arsehole has a purpose.”

– – – –

16 November 1922

Severus apparated to the ward boundary of Galloway Manor, which was in the Galloway region of Scotland and the ancestral seat of the Earl of Galloway, the title now held by the Weasley family. While the manor was fairly large, it was beginning to show signs of disrepair.

He tapped his wand on the gate guardian, which looked like a roaring lion. He snorted in amusement at the realization that the roaring “lion” was likely a transfigured nundu. The wards gave, and the gate creaked open.

Evander Weasley had written the day after Severus’ encounter with Dumbledore, asking for a meeting, but Severus had needed a couple days to get his head together. It had been too many things, too close together.

Aside from the whole issue of lives repeatedly lived, time travel, and being on a mission to save everything, Severus had needed time to really acclimate to and accept everything that had happened, to deal with everything he’d learned. To that end, he’d done something he hadn’t done since his arrival back in time. He’d retreated to his potions labs with orders not to be disturbed and allowed himself to get lost in brewing. Certainly he’d brewed a few potions since his arrival in the past—Severus did not take potions brewed by others if it could be avoided—but it had been only when necessary and for short periods of time. He’d needed those two days to find his equilibrium.

He’d emerged from his isolation to find a stack of correspondence needing his attention, but he’d set it aside to deal with one of Dumbledore’s old schoolmates.

Lady Corrine Weasley met him at the door and showed him to Evander’s study. Severus seemed to recall that she was a pureblood witch from a minor line of the Doge family. Doge, Dumbledore, and Evander had been in school together.

He wasn’t terribly surprised when Lady Weasley joined them.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me privately, Lord Prince,” Evander began as soon as the tea had bene poured.

“I confess that I was expecting to hear from you.”

“Because I’ve refused to follow the lead of the rest of the Assembly?”

“No. Rather because your friend—a professor from Hogwarts, that chap with a name longer than Merlin’s beard—confronted me at the ministry about leading you astray.”

Corrine’s mouth became pinched, and Evander flushed, visibly angry before he schooled his expression. “I apologize. He did not have my leave to seek you out. Though now that he has done so, it certainly has set the stage for why I wished to see you. Is there anything you can share about your conversation with Albus?”

Severus considered the issue. “It might be more expedient to let you see the memory. If you have a pensieve, of course.”

The Weasleys seemed surprised by the offer, but readily retrieved the family pensieve. When the viewing was done, Corrine was particularly annoyed, but Evander seemed resigned.

“Then you understand the basis of my conundrum,” Evander said, sounding tired.

“I confess that I do not. This Dumbledore person has an ill-informed opinion about magic, but it need not be your opinion.”

“What did you mean about him not understanding family magics and how it’s not divisive?”

“According to Lady Ravenclaw’s library, the purpose of line magics were to draw magical beings into community. The lord of the line was granted the council of the guardians of their line. These avatars could be empowered greatly to guide the members of their family. But family was never intended to just mean blood relations. The lord is supposed to bring others into the clan. Bring complementary and diverse skills and gifts to enrich the line magics. The purpose was so that each line would be strong individually and even more powerful together.

“Merlin and Morgan were said to have the power of foresight and predicted that magicals would need to be tightly knit to weather the storms the future would bring. I would say that ignoring our line magics is what has actually been divisive, but embracing it has the potential to bring us closer together. To bring many into the comfort of family magic, to allow them to experience their own magic more intimately.

“How an instructor at boarding school could have an informed opinion about that which he has not experienced is something I do not comprehend. Considering that you have your title because of the gift of family magics, he may as well ask you to abdicate.”

Severus pressed his lips into a line and glanced around the room. “Though I can see why you would be so easily led by his opinion.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Corrine snapped.

“Shall I be blunt or dance about your feelings?” Severus asked in a mild tone.

“Corrine,” Evander cautioned before meeting Severus’ gaze. “By all means, Lord Prince, you’ve spared no one in the Assembly your opinion, please be as abrasive as you like.”

“Very well.” He gestured to the room. “The evidence of your disregard for the will of magic is all around you. You’ve not trusted Magic in even minor things, so I can see why you’d resist making vows to the magic of your line.”

“And what evidence would that be?” Evander asked.

“The disrepair your property has fallen into.”

“You fault us for not being as wealthy as you?” Corrine looked ready to murder him. “For the circumstances which another noble forced upon us?”

“I fault no one for their income. But the reason for your financial straits is your own doing.”

Evander’s eyes narrowed. “You dare bring up the Malfoys.”

“Of course I dare. A weregild can only be enacted if Magic finds the petition just. You were penalized by Magic herself and rather than accept, you’ve railed against the Malfoys for two generations. Your family was wrong, but instead of making amends, you went to war with them.”

“Marriage contracts made between children are barbaric!” Corrine yelled.

“I agree.”

She snapped her mouth shut, a perplexed expression crossing her face.

“If I have my way,” Severus continued, “marriage contracts entered into without the participants’ consent will be abolished. But the fact of the matter is that the Malfoys paid a large bride price, and when Lucinda Weasley left Nero Malfoy on the night of their wedding, she violated the terms of the contract. The bride price should have been returned without Nero’s father, Lucius, having to ask. The Weasleys refused, the Malfoys sought magical judgment, and Magic found in their favor. I say again, Magic found in their favor.”

“Lucinda fulfilled the contract, she married—”

“That was not fulfilling the contract!” Severus bit out. “I’ve read it. Septimus showed me all the paperwork when we were barely out of school when I asked why the Weasleys and the Malfoys feuded so. I don’t defend the Malfoys actions after the weregild—Nero was furious and publicly scornful of the Weasleys, openly declaring you oathbreakers—but if the Lord Weasley of that time had returned the bride price as requested, it would have simply been two angry people with a broken marriage contract slandering each other. Regardless of who did what, you were wrong in the eyes of Magic. And instead of moving on, you continue to rail against it while destroying your own fortunes.”

“And how have we destroyed our fortunes? The weregild was more than double the bride price. It ruined us. And the Malfoys limit our business opportunities. They’re connected to every industry in Britain!”

“Septimus Malfoy is a reasonable man who would not deliberately damage your ability to run a business or support your line! But he’s completely enamored of his lady wife, and there is no reason to be found when she’s upset. And you, Lady Weasley, have done your best to engender bad blood between you.”

“To what is he referring, Corrine?”

Lady Weasley looked away, lips pressed tightly together.

Severus had no interest in delving into Corrine’s social campaign against Genevieve. “My point was that at every step where you could have accepted the direction of Magic, you’ve fought it. And of course I mean the whole line of Weasley and not you personally because the weregild was against your grandfather when he was lord. The weregild isn’t what brought your family low, it was the antipathy your grandfather and grandaunt showed toward the Malfoys. Lord Lucius Malfoy knew Nero’s culpability, which is why he sought no redress other than the return of the bride price.”

“Nero gravely insulted the line of Weasley,” Evander insisted.

“He did not. Or, rather, not any more than Lucinda insulted the line of Malfoy.”

“You say that as if you know what transpired on their wedding night.”

“You don’t?” Severus asked, confused by how the Weasleys could cling to their anger at the Malfoys and not know what had actually happened?

“Not specifically, no. Whatever you know must hearsay.”

“No…” Severus shifted uncomfortably. “Lord Malfoy made Nero provide memories of the event in question.” How could the Weasleys carry on a blood feud and not even know the cause? Severus reversed his opinion about which side of the fight was more prideful. He would have said the Malfoys but not any longer.

Evander stared at him for several long seconds. “I’d like to know what you saw in those memories if you’ll take a vow to relay it truthfully.”

Severus glared at the implication that he’d lie for the Malfoys. Evander flushed but didn’t give ground. “I’ll make the vow simply because I’m quite tired of the squabbling between your families.” He cleared his throat and made a vow to relay the memories accurately to the best of his recollection, allowing for some paraphrasing as long as it didn’t change the meaning. “Lady, this is quite indelicate, you may wish to leave…”

“I’m no shrinking violet, Lord Prince! I’ll hear whatever you have to say.”

“Very well.” He thought back over those ridiculous memories. “Please bear in mind that neither party was pleased by the marriage. Nero was forced into the marriage bed as much as Lucinda was.”

Evander nodded shortly, but Corrine glared.

“Nero had some issue with, um, performing his husbandly duty.” Severus was regretting even accepting this meeting. “Lucinda made a pointed remark about his uninspired display, he then said perhaps he’d be up to the task if she didn’t have such a fat arse.”

Corrine gasped indignantly.

Severus ignored her and continued. “Lucinda then remarked on the size of his prick, apparently finding it to be inadequate.”

Evander held up a hand. “I feel as if I’m in the pensieve myself, Lord Prince. Do feel free to skip the insults.”

“After a screaming match and an impressive array of slurs against each other’s physical attributes, Lucinda vowed on her magic to never have, uh, intimate congress with Nero. Thus finding an unexpected loophole to break the marriage contract.”

“Merlin save us,” Evander sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You have to understand that Weasleys have a fierce temper.”

“And Malfoys have a lot of pride. What of it? The matter should have been done. She’d escaped a marriage she didn’t want anyway. But instead of letting the whole thing go, you went to war with the Malfoys. You weren’t in the wrong over the marriage contract breaking, but Magic found you guilty for refusing to return the Malfoy gold. Lucinda went on a campaign to slur the entire Malfoy line. She pushed the Malfoys into asking for the weregild in order to protect their reputation!”

“We didn’t know what had really happened between them,” Evander defended.

“How is that relevant? When the weregild was granted, Magic had judged the Weasleys as being the culpable party. Magic said you were wrong. Despite that, for two generations you’ve been unwilling to submit to Magic. Unwilling to bend to her judgment or her will. It in no way surprises me that you struggle with the idea of being guided by your line magic. If the Lady Magic appeared in this room and personally told you that you were wrong, you’d argue. Save yourself the misery and renounce your family magics so we can be done with this. I honestly have no patience for Weasley-level hubris.”

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Chapters 1-2 | Main Page | Chapters 5-6

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