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Chapter Five

1 December 1922

Severus entered the Leaky Cauldron and wandlessly spelled the rain and slush from his cloak. The day was unusually cold and wet for early December, and it was the first time Severus had cause not to be annoyed about the beard since it insulated him from the biting cold. Despite his merged memories, the short beard was a constant pull between his two lives—Severus Prince, who’d sported a beard since his late teens, and Severus Snape who’d despised facial hair. Every day he thought to spell it off, and every day he left it alone.

He immediately set eyes on the young man he’d come to meet. Hugh Davies was dressed in a dark muggle suit with a long wool overcoat that was appreciably damp. Davies was a young man of twenty-two with brown hair and unusually pale blue eyes.

“Lord Prince,” he greeted as he got to his feet. Hugh’s father, Edward Davies, had raised his son in the wizarding world despite Hugh being magically latent. As a result, Hugh didn’t offer his hand as he knew that casual hand touches generally only occurred between those of the same magical house, very close friends, or magical houses making formal overtures to one another.

“Mr. Davies,” Severus acknowledged, silently and wandlessly spelling his coat dry. “Thank you for meeting me today. We’re a bit early for our appointment at Ollivander’s. Shall we order tea? There was another matter I wished to discuss with you.”

When the tea had been delivered, Severus cast a privacy ward. “My thanks again for agreeing to this wand project.”

Davies glanced away briefly. “It’s my pleasure, truly. To think that I might be able to function in the magical world and not feel so adrift is… Well, it’s something I’d never dared dream. But beyond the wand, the idea that I have magic even if I can’t use it, is precious to me.”

“It’s on the subject of the magically latent that I hoped we could converse. I feel quite strongly that it’s vital that the magical world include both the actively magical and the latently magical.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but even if I’m able to enter magical buildings and activate the lift, I still fundamentally cannot do magic.”

“I don’t believe that to be true. You might not be able to cast magic, but there is magical craft that either relies on the core directly or on magic not at all. Aside from arithmancy and runecraft—yes, there’s the issue of charging runes, but the drawing of them has nothing to do with magic—it occurred to me when I was brewing earlier in the week that I’ve foolishly overlooked that magical channels aren’t necessary to brew. Potion masters are taught carefully never to push magic into their potions, and yet a muggle can’t brew a magical potion.”

Davies blinked a few times. “Are you saying potion making taps into the magical core?”

“No, I’m saying that I’d never before noticed that potion making is ritual craft. Yes, temperature and order of ingredients matters, but when it comes to the precise stirring and movement of the stirrer, that is a function of ritual. And most ritual craft is from our core. Channels are needed to cast the spells to form the circle, but the actual craft is core based.”

“Are you certain?”

“Quite certain. Pushing magic into a potion will ruin it, and muggles won’t produce a viable potion no matter how much of the ritual they follow.”

Looking flabbergasted, it took Davies several moments to reply. “Most ritual craft has been forbidden by ministry law. Except, of course, ritual craft based in family magics.” He made a gesture to Severus.

“Which is absurd. Our ritual craft is how we learn our magic intimately. Though it makes sense that ritual magic is best learned and practiced under the guidance of family magics or a conclave. But that brings me to the one of the things I wanted to ask. I’ve been doing a good deal of research into the nature of magic and have learned that family magic is something of a misnomer. It’s become limited to the Prince family but the intention was the magics of the line of Kielder not be limited to biological relatives. The original twenty-eight families were tasked by Merlin to expand their lines, creating large magical clans. It was never intended to be limited in the way we have.”

“That’s fascinating. If there are books you could point me to, I’d love to read further.”

“In point of fact, I’d like to offer you a place in my magical house. To swear you to the Kielder line magic.”

Davies choked, grabbing for his napkin and dabbing at his nose and mouth. When he’d composed himself, he started at Severus with wide eyes. “Wha— I— Why would you want me in your house?”

“For several reasons. My family magic reaches out to you. That’s the only way I can easily explain it. Personally, I believe you’d be an intellectual, ethical, and magical asset in my house.”

“Magical?” Davies said with a note of derision.

“Yes, magical. I know you’ve not quite taken on the idea of latent magic, but I know it to be true. My offer is not in any way conditional on you ever choosing to try to practice magic. But should you choose to accept, you may decide the level to which you’d like to be involved in my magical research. To some degree you’d be the first beneficiary of the research into latent magic but, should things work as I hope, you would coordinate the research. And I would consider it my duty to tutor you in ritual craft.”

“You’re offering quite a lot, Lord Prince. What is it that you want in return?”

Severus fought a smile. He’d have been suspicious of such an offer too. “Nothing. It’s my duty to grow my house. It’s a privilege to find the best and brightest for my line. And should our magics be compatible, I’d sponsor you into my conclave.”

“You have a conclave?”

“Not as yet. Like magical clans, conclaves and covens have nearly faded from existence. Normally a conclave would be led by whoever was strongest and most experienced in their craft. Older, more experienced wizards who have the requisite power to lead a conclave are in short supply. I’ve contacted mages in other countries who lead conclaves to ask their advice.”

“Are conclaves common in other countries?”

“Some. Middle and East Asian nations, Russia and various Slavic nations. The magical houses failed in their duty to see line magic grow and spread outside the United Kingdom. Conclave is what ritually minded magicals who wished to know their magic had instead. It’s not common but not rare in Central and South America. It’s nearly unheard of in North America.”

“And if our, um, magic should be compatible you’d truly want me to join your conclave?”

Severus shot him a stern look. “I never say things I don’t mean, Master Davies. I have neither the time nor the patience to pander to egos or soothe ruffled feathers.”

“What would it mean to be a member of your magical house?”

“A member makes vows to the family magics. You can certainly review the oaths ahead of time. Eventually a member could choose to swear fealty to the line, which would make them a vassal, and there’d be a requisite obligation to defend the primary line or the house in general against overarching threat. Fosterage happens on occasions between noble families when a son or daughter has magical gifts not well suited to their family line. When the line grows, vassals may sponsor members into the line. There are some apprenticeship provisions but the line would have to grow first.”

“And how big is your House now?”

“My mother, my nephew, and his mother. There are a few distant cousins in France, but their connection to the family magic is so weak that I’d require renewal of their vows before I’d consider them a proper member of the house.”

“And how many members or vassals.”

“None.”

Davies sputtered again.

“The noble houses have done our magic a disservice, but greater is the disservice done to our fellow witches and wizards who should have been learning line magic and ritual craft their entire lives.”

Eyes wide, Davies said, “I’m not a wizard.”

“You’re a latent wizard,” Severus said sternly. “Do stop making me repeat myself.”

“You want me to be the first…magical person brought into your line?” The lad sounded oddly vulnerable.

“I’ve said as much.”

“What about my father?”

“Edward is a gifted solicitor, and I’d welcome the opportunity to invite him into my House but, at present, his oaths to his other clients might put him in conflict. In the days ahead, I foresee that the Prince family will need not just a full-time solicitor but possibly several. I’ve asked Edward to consider taking the Prince family as his sole client, but he has yet to make a decision.”

“Does he know that he could be part of your house?”

“I haven’t broached the issue with him yet. I would have my invitation to your father be a matter of honoring him, not bribing him. And before you ask, my invitation to you has nothing to do with your father. He could choose to remove me from his client roster and these magical matters between you and me would be unchanged.”

Davies swallowed heavily. “Thank you, Lord Prince. My heart has already given me an answer, but I make a strict policy of a period of judicious thought when my emotions have been stirred. If I could have the weekend to consider the matter?”

“Of course.” Severus got to his feet. “Let’s be off to Ollivander’s.”

Looking faintly nervous, Davies shrugged into his overcoat though the weather ward over the Alley would protect them well enough.

It being before midday on a Friday in December, there was little foot traffic to speak of.

“I’ve so rarely been to the Alley,” Davies remarked softly after the brick wall closed behind them. “Whenever I’d accompany my parents or siblings, I felt out of place. Less than everyone else. I stopped accompanying them as soon as I was old enough to stay home without supervision.” Ollivander had been visiting Davies at his home for the preliminary stages of the research, so this was the first visit to the wand shop.

Severus let the remark pass without comment. There’d never been a day in any of his lives where he didn’t keenly experience his magic. But there were other events in his life where he’d felt on the outside looking in, and thought he could relate to Davies on some level.

They made it to the wand shop with no delay. Garrick eagerly met them at the door and showed them into the back. “As agreed, I’ve not discussed what I’ve worked on with anyone outside of the three of us, so we’ll have to meet in my private lab. Please don’t touch anything. Wand ingredients react poorly to anyone not trained in how to properly handle them.”

Davies looked around curiously as Garrick threw up several privacy wards.

“Well, I must say this went a bit differently than I expected.” Garrick shifted from foot to foot with apparent enthusiasm. “While what I’ve made looks like a wand, it would be best not to call it that or think of it in that way.”

“If it’s not a wand, then what is it?” Davis asked, expression unreadable.

“Whether it’s a wand, staff, casting rings, or what have you, they’re all in the category of a magical focus. A focus is for channeling magic through. Magic is pushed through it, which a latent wizard has no capacity to do. I was trying to make a focus for young Master Davies, but what I need to make was, essentially, a magical leech.”

“Oh.” Severus rocked back on his heels. “That could be quite dangerous.”

“Could! Could, indeed, if it’s not crafted well. Although you might also call it a magical sink, but it still has to leech the magic.”

“A sink?” Davies asked, sounding bewildered.

Garrick waved the question aside. “Never mind the term. The point is that once I stopped trying to make a wand, it was really quite simple. Wand woods still seemed the right choice—very magically conductive, and we do need some conductive properties—but the typical magical cores were all wrong. Two elements designed to channel magic would just be another focus, so I needed one to channel and one to store.”

Bustling around the workshop excitedly, Garrick set out a tray of stones. “Magical crystals and rare earth elements. Of a sufficient size, many of these elements are used as ward stones. I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, so I didn’t explain my tray of rocks when I visited the Davies’ home, but Master Davies again and again came back to the Australian fire opals. Unfortunately this opal is quite rare and expensive, but we only needed a small quantity.”

“The price isn’t a concern,” Severus said mildly.

“Yes, well, the sad part was crushing that lovely stone. Now, because there’s great potential for someone to be harmed by something that leeches from the core, I’ve engineered safety protocols. I will only reveal my exact methods to Lord Prince or his designee, and only under secrecy oaths. But in general, through combination of rune work, charm work, and a wee bit of alchemy, the amount of magic this sink can pull or store is very limited and we can adjust the level to ensure we don’t overcharge the wand or pull too heavily on Mr. Davies’ core.”

“So you’re sure I have a core?” Davies asked. Severus was impatient with the ongoing doubt but he could also understand bone-deep insecurity.

“I have no doubt about it,” Garrick assured. “Latents have always been able to see through muggle-repelling charms. The evidence was there and yet we never thought past what we’d been told. Now,” he said brightly, “the only way ensure this magical store is safe to be around others is to attune it to your magic. So hold still and I’ll bond it to your magic. Then we can give it a go!”

While Garrick did the final adjustments and took careful measurements on the not-wand and Davies, Severus considered the next steps with this project. Right now, the object wasn’t illegal but it could become so quite easily. He should probably work with Lord Belamy, whose family had a long history in magical research and the unspeakables, about the whole project. If the DoM had certified the object as safe before the issue was brought before the Wizengamot, it could take the wind out of the sails of any protestors.

He made note to discuss the issue with Septimus and then work with Garrick and Davies on next steps.

“All right, lad, give the shrink rune array on that trunk a tap and let’s see what happens.”

Davies shot Severus a look that seemed fraught with nerves before taking the apple wood not-wand in hand. He gave the trunk a quick tap and it instantly shrank. “Oh dear Merlin,” he said on a breath.

– – – –

Outside Ollivander’s, Severus observed Davies as he looked around the alley as if seeing it for the first time. When his gaze lingered on the bookstore, Severus bit back a smile.

“Did you want to make a stop at the bookstore?”

“Oh.” Davies flushed a bit. “It’s nothing. I can come another time and look for potions books.”

“Potions?”

“Yes, I was always curious about them, and I know there are cauldrons with rune work for flame adjustment.” He shrugged.

“I think that’s a fine idea. I need to stop by the owl emporium. I’ll meet you at the bookstore shortly and then we can have lunch and discuss any additional questions you have.”

“That would be perfect. Thank you.”

Severus summoned a notebook and pen from the dimensional store on his wrist, jotting out a list of books for Davies to review. “Start there.”

A few minutes later, Severus was at the owl emporium looking at two owlets nearly ready to begin mail delivery. He thought to gift them to Ciprian and Marcus. The two boys were fire calling every other day. In the new year, they’d be able to start sending each other short notes. The two long-eared owlets were really quite funny looking, but he felt that they were the right choice for the boys.

As he was paying and making arrangements for Libby to pick up the owls, he felt an odd tremor in his magic. “I’ll make arrangements to have them retrieved,” Severus said absently, trying to pinpoint the source of the disturbance.

It felt like his mother. Not that she was in danger, but something was wrong. He thought to have someone run a message to Davies that Severus would contact him later. The thought had barely formed before there was what amounted to a warning klaxon from his magic.

Something was wrong and he couldn’t leave Davies in the alley alone. Ignoring the gaping shopkeeper, Severus let his wand drop into his hand. “Expecto patronum!” He shouldn’t have been surprised that a unicorn came forth, but he was. He quickly sent the patronus off with an urgent message to Septimus to see to Hypatia, and Severus would join them as soon as possible.

“I didn’t know they could do that,” the shopkeeper said as Severus left.

The minute he was out of the shop, his magic nearly screamed in warning. Severus reflexively flicked away the bolt of cursed magic flying at him. In seconds, he was dueling five opponents—four men and a woman he recognized as Elladora Black.

None seemed prepared for Severus to be a master dueler, so he was able to quickly fell two of his opponents, taking only minor hits himself. Elladora screamed in rage and sent an entrails-expelling curse at him. He managed to deflect it onto one of the two remaining men.

“Severus!” Davies horrified voice came from across the alley.

“Protect him,” Severus ordered the family magic as he summoned a café chair into the path of a cruciatus curse. Later, he’d have words with Davies about drawing attention to himself in such a situation.

Five more men bled out of the shadows, including Phineas Nigellus Black. That made seven on their feet. Two headed for Davies, while both Blacks tried to kill Severus.

“I need some help!” he ground out as he ducked out of another attempt to spill his guts. Severus overpowered a cutting curse and took off one of his assailant’s wand arm.

Elladora yelled insults at him, but Severus was too focused on trying to duck and dodge the curses flying his way to pay attention to her vitriol.

The sound of neighing could be heard and as he dove to the ground and rolled away, he saw the two Kielder unicorns impaling the two men who had attempted to get to Davies on their horns.

The alley was filled with the sounds of screams and curses.

“Dammit,” Severus ground out as a blasting curse clipped his arm. He’d already taken some glancing blows from other cutting and blasting curses. He knew he was bleeding from several places and had more than one broken rib. But better those than having his guts spilled on the ground. Fortunately, aside from Elladora and Phineas, the group didn’t seem to have the magical power to keep sending crucios and entrail-expelling curses. Those types of curses were too magically expensive, making the spell repertoire primarily curses that did physical damage but not much else.

Angry, Elladora screamed, “Avada kedavra!”

Severus, dodging another blasting curse, managed put himself right in the path of the killing curse.

Damn!

Without any warning, a gleaming length of metal appeared in the curse’s path, reflecting it, causing it to smack Elladora Black right in the face. As she dropped to the ground, it registered in Severus’ mind that the metal was a sword that glowed with an unearthly white light, and it was held by the gleaming silver arm of Nuada Silverhand.

“No! Dora!” Phineas screamed even as Nuada’s sword lashed out.

In what seemed like a blink, two of the remaining thugs’ heads had been parted from their shoulders, leaving only Phineas Nigellus on his feet. Nuada’s sword was pressed into Phineas’ throat.

“It’s your fault, Prince!” Phineas spat.

Before Severus could reply, Nuada’s sword swung. Phineas’ head hit the ground a second before his body fell.

Breathing heavily, Severus assessed the ten assailants, eyes flicking around, looking for new threats. The ones who were impaled on the horns of unicorns—and Severus hadn’t realized they could be tangible enough to do physical harm—were unmoving and possibly dead. Of the eight who had gone for Severus, three had fallen to Nuada’s blade, Elladora to the reflected killing curse, and the remaining four were laid out from Severus’ own hexes and curses. None were moving, but he was confident at least two were alive.

Aurors began popping into the alley.

Severus opened his mouth, but nothing came out as the world began to waver and spots began to form in his vision.

“Severus!” Septimus’ voice came from a distance and held notes of panic.

Everything went dark.

– – – –

Severus blinked and bolted upright, adrenaline causing his heart to race.

“Everything’s fine, Severus. It’s all right now,” Septimus’ voice was low and soothing in the dim room.

It took him a moment to realize where he was. “St. Mungo’s?”

“Yes. Here.” Septimus moved closer, and Severus realized how cautious Septimus was being. He passed over a glass of water. “Drink.”

“Thank you.” Severus drank deeply as he tried to bring up some scrap of memory of what had transpired after Nuada took Phineas’ head. “How did I come to be here?”

“Do you remember what happened in the Alley?”

He nodded. “Is Hugh Davies all right?”

“Yes. He was treated for minor injuries, gave his statement to the aurors, and then stayed with the rest of us until an hour ago.” Septimus hesitated. “Are you truly Severus Alexander Prince?”

Severus goggled. “What?”

Sighing, Septimus set the water glass on the table. “I’m sorry, my friend, but I know you well. A smarter wizard I’ve never met and, while you have power to spare, offensive magics were barely of interest. You bothered with magical defense only enough to get your O and, otherwise, paid it no mind. You certainly were not a proficient dueler!”

“Oh.”

“Severus, you nearly bled to death from cutting curses and blast injuries, yet you were on your feet and took down four opponents. Members of the Black family who are most assuredly known for dueling and offensive magics. It was as if you weren’t even aware of your injuries.”

“I was aware, but it’s better to step into a cutting curse than have your bowels spilled.”

“I certainly agree with that!” Septimus sounded unbearably frustrated. “But how did you come to the level of dueling proficiency that you could so easily make that choice? I saw witness’ memories, Severus. The man in that alley is not the man I’ve known since childhood.”

“Of course it’s me, old friend. I just duel better than you thought.”

“Severus, I don’t know anyone who duels that well who isn’t used to magical combat.”

Severus opened his mouth then shut it again. He felt a gentle magical prodding. “We can discuss this further, but not here. Just give me some time and we’ll discuss it in private. But you have my word that I’m Severus Prince.”

Septimus nodded and took a seat by the bed. “They’ll release you in the morning. You were briefly awake after the aurors administered blood replenishing potions, but you came up fighting. They stunned you, and the senior healer felt it best to sedate you until you were fully healed.”

“How long has it been?”

“Nearly fourteen hours since the duel. It’s just past two in the morning.”

“My mother?”

“She was fine,” Septimus assured. “Whatever you felt was because they were looking for you. Iola had tried to find you due to a warning from Sirius, Phineas’ oldest son, that Phineas, Elladora and several of the Black cousins were looking to seek revenge for Phineas, blaming you for his predicament. Sirius had hoped to avert a tragedy, though he certainly hoped to protect his father as well. But no one could have predicted that Nuada Silverhand would show up and cut off his head.” Septimus shot him a speaking look. “At least, I cannot begin to fathom who else that could have been!”

Severus sighed, feeling unbearably tired.

Septimus’ expression shifted to something near contrition. “I’m sorry, my friend. You should rest. That Hugh Davies fellow escorted Genevieve, Lady Black, and your mother back home barely an hour ago. Your mother promised to be back in the morning.” He hesitated briefly. “And when we do have that chat, I’d like an explanation of how your patronus came to be talking.”

Right. Dumbledore didn’t begin that charm on the patronus until the 70s. “It’s a simple charm. I’ll teach you whenever you wish.” He patted Septimus on the arm. “Go home, Septimus. I’ll be fine.”

“Go to sleep, Severus.”

“Right, then.”

– – – –

Severus finished adjusting the robe his mother had brought him then stepped out to join the rather large group of people waiting for him.

“Are you sure you’re all right going to the Ministry now, dear? You’ve had quite a shock, and the healer advised several days of rest.”

“It’s simply a recounting of events, Mother. It will be fine.”

“If you insist.” Her expression was pinched, and she looked worried and unhappy. She turned her glare on the senior auror. “Lord Prince has had a trying experience. If he’s not home within two hours, I, Lady Black, and Lady Malfoy will be in your offices. I assure you that would not go well for you, young man!”

“Yes, ma’am,” the auror quickly agreed.

Severus exchanged a look with Hugh Davies, who seemed to have attached himself to looking after Severus’ mother, and gave him a nod. They’d speak later.

The senior auror was able to transport them by portkey straight to a warded and guarded portkey/apparition room attached to the DMLE. He was escorted to a room and seated in a chair heavy with truth charms.

Severus shot the auror a pointed look. “Libby,” he called out.

The auror seemed set to object, but his mouth snapped shut, when Libby popped in. “Yes, Lord Prince.”

“Let my solicitor know that he’s needed urgently in the DMLE.”

“Yes, Lord Prince.” She popped away.

“That won’t be necessary,” another auror commented as he stepped into the room.

“I’ll decide what’s necessary when you brought me to the ministry under false pretenses. Set up your transcription quill because what I have to say about this chair will be on the record.”

The first auror flushed but set the quill to recording. The senior auror glared.

“This is the sworn testimony of Severus Alexander Prince, Earl of Kielder. First, I was not informed that the truth would be forced from me like a common criminal after I was attacked in Diagon Alley yesterday. At the very least, I should have been given the opportunity to bring my solicitor. However, since I have nothing to hide, I will give my statement from the witness chair, though I may refuse to answer questions put to me. When I’m finished with my statement, I will be leaving immediately. The complaint from my solicitor regarding the DMLE’s breach of protocol will be filed later today.” With that, he sat in the spelled chair and began recounting the events of yesterday afternoon, starting when he was in the owl emporium.

When Severus reached the end of his recounting, the senior auror asked, “And who was the man with the sword?” A picture taken from a pensieve was pushed in front of him. The face was unfamiliar to him.

Severus frowned. “I don’t know who that is. Though I greatly appreciate his assistance since Elladora Black had fired the killing curse.”

“You don’t know who he is?”

“No. Why didn’t you question him at the scene?”

“He vanished.” The auror’s expression was sour. “If you see him again, you’re to contact the DMLE at once.”

“And why would that be? This man came to my assistance and saved my life.”

“He beheaded three people!”

“My cutting curse is powerful enough to remove someone’s head,” Severus snapped. “There’s no particular law in Britain against beheading in self defense.”

The senior aurors pursed his lips. “Should you see this man again, you’re to contact the DMLE.”

“Very well,” Severus agreed with no small amount of irritation. “Now, how else may I assist the DMLE? You’ve questioned me like a criminal over ten people trying to murder me. You’ve ordered me to notify you if I should see the only person who tried to aid me. In what other ways would you like to overstep your mandate?”

The senior auror stood tall, arms crossed over his chest. “I’d like more answers about why the Blacks attacked you.”

“And I’ve told you all I’m allowed per the confidentiality spells on the Noble Assembly of the Wizengamot.”

The door slammed open and Marcellus Parkinson, Edward Davies, and the head of the DMLE, Redmond Carrow, the oldest son of Lord Carrow, entered. “This is finished,” Parkinson snarled, no less fierce than when he was seventy years younger. “How dare you treat Lord Prince like a common criminal?”

Carrow nodded to Severus. “You may go, Lord Prince. You have my apologies. I’d ordered that your statement be obtained soonest so we can put to bed this matter of self defense, but I certainly never indicated any of this.”

Severus swept out of the room. By the time he’d reached the lift, something shifted in his memories and he recalled the man with the silver hand again. He let his memories resettle as he made his way home.

– – – –

Closing himself in his suite, Severus sighed in relief at the privacy. His family and friends were overprotective and overly concerned. It was making him insane.

He stripped off his robe, immeasurably frustrated by the whole affair. He hadn’t expected that Black would come after him. That Severus would make enemies that could endanger his mission.

He felt a familiar magical shift and turned to face Nuada as he appeared. “You blocked my memory of you.”

“Not I,” he denied. “My lady would do whatever necessary to ease your situation. You have my most sincere apologies, Severus. I was not watching as closely as I should have.”

Severus scoffed. “It’s actually a comfort to know you’re not watching that closely. I don’t need a minder.”

“All evidence to the contrary. I was engaged elsewhere, and if I hadn’t felt your sharp pull on the family magics, I wouldn’t have been there in time.”

Severus started to say one thing, but then what Nuada said fully penetrated his mind. “Why would you feel the pull on the family magics?” When Nuada said nothing, just looked frustrated with himself, Severus’ mind started spinning. “They’re fae,” he blurted.

“Would you kindly stop figuring out things you do not need to know!”

“The guardians or guides or whatever you’d call them…they’re somehow connected to the fae.”

Nuada flopped back on the couch and glared at Severus. “They’re fae spirits, yes. They take the form of magical beasts, but I cannot tell you more than that. Figure out what you will, but no more questions!” He pointed his finger sternly.

Severus fought back his smile and took the other end of the sofa, feeling all the energy drain from him. “Thank you for saving me, Nuada.”

“It was my honor, Severus.” He stared at Severus for several long moments. “All our hopes are on you.”

“On Tom,” Severus corrected. “I’ll get him to where he needs to be.”

“Nay. They’re on you. I’ll serve you however I am able, Lord Prince.”

Chapter Six

3 December 1922

Severus broke off from reading an account statement from Gringotts when he felt an overt brush of house elf magic that indicated Libby was about to pop in. A bare second later, she appeared near the door to Severus’ study.

“Lord Malfoy be fire calling and saying that he be detained due to unexpected visitor. He be coming as soon as he able, but he be expecting at least an hour delay.” Libby’s expression was severe in a way he wasn’t accustomed to. She’d been like this since he came home from St. Mungo’s yesterday.

“Thank you, Libby. Before you return to your regular duties, please restock the liquor cabinet.” It was barely past lunch and somewhat early for Septimus to be drinking, but Severus had no idea how this conversation would go or even what he was going to say.

Libby’s expression became pinched and she looked like she desperately wanted to say something, but she simply popped out and returned with the items needed to restock the liquor cabinet.

“Is there something on your mind, Libby?”

Her lips pressed into an even tighter line.

He sighed. “If I’ve ever made you feel that you cannot speak your mind, I most sincerely apologize.”

She blinked a couple times then shook her head. “People might think Lord Severus drink too much, but Libby know better. It’s not her master who drinks too much but her king. Libby be feeling true fae magic in the house since Lord Severus come back from the dead, but Libby not be knowing who or why.”

“Libby,” Severus quickly interrupted, “what do you mean about me coming back from the dead?”

She scoffed. “Libby be feeling bond break to Lord Severus for several seconds, but Libby and other elves not be able to find you. And then the bond be back. Libby know Lord Severus died, and then Lord Severus feel like fae magic for a time. Libby respect Lord Severus’ privacy and secrets and not tell that fae magic keep coming in the house. That our Lord be meeting secretly with fae.

“But Libby felt it, all house elf felt it, when the Sword of Light appeared back in this realm. King Nuada be here. And now Libby be knowing that King Nuada, Libby’s king, be coming to Libby’s home, and King Nuada be hiding from Libby.”

There was a familiar, subtle flush of magic, and Nuada appeared. “Severus has many secrets to keep and a mission of great importance. My only desire was to help him where I was able while preserving the secrets.” He dropped down to one knee in front of her. “But it was not my intention to hide from you, little one.”

To Severus surprise and horror, Libby burst into tears, crying even harder when Nuada pulled her into a hug. Since he had no idea what was going on—and, if there were tears involved, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know—he decided to give them a few minutes and slipped out of his study. He knew Iola was having a meeting with several other members of the Noble Assembly in the library, which was Severus’ second favorite room, so he went to his potions lab to prepare ingredients while he waited for Septimus.

Barely fifteen minutes later, Nuada appeared in his laboratory.

Severus paused in his chopping. “Is there a particular reason you made Libby cry?”

Nuada sighed and hopped up on one of the workbenches. “How much do you know about the origins of magic?”

“Little that I could confidently say was fact. There are many legends and, while they have points of similarity, they have as many points of disparity. Though obviously the sidhe are real, and Lady Magic made it clear that some places thought to be myth do, in fact, exist.”

“There are many planes of existence, as you well know having visited one of the spiritual planes many times.”

“Spiritual,” Severus repeated, not really questioning but more letting the idea of it resonate.

“Aye. The place you called limbo is the lowest of the spiritual planes, where all departed souls pass. The lowest physical plane is here. From the beginning of recorded time the higher physical planes pulled heavily on the magic of the Earth. To such a degree that they were depleting her. The higher realms thrived, not knowing we were slowly destroying the cycle of magic.”

“So this is not the first time magic has been at risk?” Severus packed away his tools, not needing the distraction from what Nuada was telling him.

Nuada hesitated, obviously considering. “Somewhat differently, but you’re not wrong in seeing it that way. The current path will poison the energy of the Earth. Most of what happens in the higher realms does not affect the lowest, but everything in the lowest realm affects those higher.”

“It’s the base everything is built on.”

“Correct. What we did was slowly drain magic away from the lower realm. It would have eventually robbed us of our magic.” Nuada looked lost in memories for several seconds. “We called the great goddess Danu. The Olympians called her Gaia. But the Earth Mother was known by many names. She chose to disperse herself, the essence of everything she was, into the lower plane to create a renewable magical well in this plane of existence.

“The Earth became wild and chaotic. The higher physical planes thrived. Though, at times, we struggled with the influx of magic. The creatures of the lower planes began to change—evolve—but in unpredictable ways. The great dragons were a product of that chaotic, wild magic. Powerful, clever, and intensely magical.

“The wild magic eventually yielded a being called Faery, a sapient personification of magic.”

Severus blinked in astonishment. “Faerie is her name? But she’s really Gaia?”

“Faery, not Faerie,” Nuada corrected, though Severus didn’t hear the difference, so Nuada spelled it for him. “And, no, she’s not-Danu. Not not-Gaia.”

Severus stared.

“Or not entirely not not-Danu. Magic is life, enough magic will yield life. Danu thought to disperse herself into the Earth, but from that came Faery.”

“So Faery is Danu’s daughter, then?”

Nuada smiled. “I suppose you could look at it that way, yes.”

“And why the similarity to faerie?”

“We called ourselves the fae folk, the faerie, to honor the new child of magic who was also the Mother of Magic. The fae were the first to realize what she was, the power she held and, to this day, are the servants of Faery.

“In her early days, she walked the lowest physical realm of Earth, building a web of magical lines through which to channel the wild magic of Danu. What would one day be called the United Kingdom became relevant magically as the place where the barrier was thinnest. The place where magic passed from one realm to the next, where the realms could align. Small magical nodes form whenever two magical lines intersect, but all ley lines lead to Britain. The magical nodes here are not small. Hundreds of lines can converge in a single spot.

“She stabilized the magic of the Earth, creating a web of magic that was renewed by the very life of the planet. But Faery is wild and cannot walk a physical realm where magic is not also wild. Her own work meant she had to retreat to the highest spiritual plane.”

“She’s visited me. Here.”

Nuada smiled faintly. “You cast a circle, and magic in a properly cast ritual circle is set free of its bonds and the lady can walk.”

Severus nodded, thinking through all the implications. “How does that tie into Libby knowing you were here?”

“She is right that I am her king. What you call house elves are one of the lesser houses of the elves. Wild magic has an unpredictable effect on living creatures. Most develop magical traits of their own. From the time of wild magic sprang forth the dragons, the naga, centuars, unicorns, and all manner of magical creatures. But humans seemed remarkably unaffected by the wild magic. Faery eventually called on the other physical realms to send their people to help guide, lead, or even punish the tribes of man. While the Olympians had many legendary wars, their regions eventually settled into an age of reason.

“But my tribe of the fae, the Tuatha Dé Danann, came here, to Britain. Well, Ireland first. The place where magic was still the most wild. Reason was harder to come by in these lands. We fought many wars here. The Fir Bolg were having none of us and refused to submit to the will of Magic. But, in time, things settled.

“Man evolved and grew in number greater than any sidhe or immortal being had ever known. They no longer wished to be ruled, and Magic said that was their right. Not every pantheon wished to leave. Worried about interference from the higher realms, Feary closed the paths between the physical realms. Tír na nÓg was now cut off from the realm of man.”

“I thought that was your afterlife,” Severus interrupted.

“Nay. Annwn is the fae otherworld, where we go after our final death.”

Severus frowned. He’d always thought Tír na nÓg and Annwn to be the same. “I’d assume the Celtic and Welsh mythologies to be different names for the same thing.”

“Oh, aye. And British. But some names survive time better and some concepts are poorly understood by humans.”

That was an easy point to concede. “And I’m back to not sure what this has to do with Libby. Why didn’t they go with you?”

“They did not wish to.” He blew out a breath. “The greater race of elves, for services done the Valar, had been promised a destiny separate from the rest of the fae folk. Valinor is otherworld, spirit world. They chose to cross from the physical realm to the spiritual and, from that, there is no turning back. Some of the tribes of lesser elves chose to return to Tír na nÓg and to no longer be called elf, but faerie instead. What became known as house elves did not want to leave this plane of existence and swore their magic to this realm, promising to care for the magical creatures within it.

“No one predicted the damaging effect closing the path to Tír na nÓg would bring. House elf magic was tethered in their home dimension and they were cut off from it. Their magic became unpredictable and wild. They found inadequate means to stabilize themselves until they discovered bonding to magical beings of this plane. And it saved them.

“But even though they are still fae, regardless of where they call home, and I am king of the fae, the door was shut and I could not return to them.”

“Is the door no longer shut?”

“No, it is.”

“And how are you here then?”

“That’s a story for another time.”

“All right.” Severus considered for a moment. “Libby said she felt fae magic on me when I came back. What was that?”

“How do you think I revived a dead body?”

“I have no idea. I assumed some sort of magic. I’d initially thought you’d prevent the death of Severus Prince.”

“Oh, aye. Magic.” Nuada grinned. “We couldn’t prevent your death. Your soul in the future needed to be back in the vessel in the past. We couldn’t shove the soul of you in a body where your soul already was. Even the Great Lady cannot correct for so great a paradox. So we let your body die. An Dagda brewed the potion in his cauldron that would bring your body back from death so we could shove your soul in it.”

Severus gaped. “The Cauldron of Plenty is real?”

Nuada nodded. “It is. Though very few can wield it properly, which is why it is more often than not called Dagda’s Cauldron.”

Severus fought with intense curiosity and a dangerous amount of avarice, and forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. “So Libby’s been feeling your visits.”

“I didn’t account for how their magic has evolved since we left. Since it is only I who walks between realms, I did not wish to make them think the way to Tír na nÓg was open.”

“But she felt your sword?”

“Aye. For all any of them know, I might no longer be king. But she rightly inferred that I am. After I take my leave of you, if you are agreeable, she’ll go with me to see the meet queens so that I can at least set their minds at ease.”

“What did Gordian wind up doing to the house elves?” Severus had been trying to sort out that question for weeks. House elves were treated very differently in the world Severus Snape grew up in.

Nuada looked saddened. “Your mother became suspicious of the circumstances around your death and at it being ruled accidental. She told Gordian that she planned to ask a friend in the ICW War Mages Division to look into the investigation to see if it was aboveboard. Gordian arranged to have her killed.

“In the chaos surrounding your mother’s death, Gordian pushed legislation through the Wizengamot to remove the rights of house elves. It was the precedent that would later be used to remove the rights of most sapient magical creatures. He cited chaos caused in the meet system because of Hypatia Prince’s death, and she was the witch bonded to the meet. Gordian was legally given rights to do whatever he wished with the elves.

“The Wizengamot has always failed to understand its power. One of the artifacts we left behind was the Lia Fáil, the coronation stone. Half went to the muggles and, today, it’s in the throne of the muggle monarch. The other half went under the chamber where the main council of the Wizengamot sits. It was representative of a very complex pact with magic that British wizards had. Wizarding magic began in Britain, which is why it is in Wizarding Britain that this battle for the future of magic must be fought.

“But, to return to the house elves… When the Wizengamot dissolved the meet in Britain, they dissolved all of them because the meets were formed under British law. Without the meets to protect the rights of elves, abuse became very wide spread and elves were sold like cattle.”

“And this happened in what year?”

“It would have already happened.”

“That would have been a profound stain on the magic of wizards,” Severus mused aloud.

“Indeed. You were already sliding into darkness in Britain, but that and a few other subsequent acts hurried you on your way.”

“And this stain on our magic occurred more than four years before Tom’s birth.”

Nuada’s smile was sad. “You need to not figure things out before you’re ready to know, Severus.”

“Has this affected whether he’ll be born?”

“Not that we can see. The Gaunts’ magic is corrupt. I don’t foresee your changes altering their path.”

“And what can be done to better protect the house elves?”

“That’s your choice to make, Severus.”

Severus huffed. “Go away if you’re going to start being vague again.”

Nuada snorted. “I will say that I’d be in your debt, more than I already am, if you’d see to it that they don’t become virtual slaves to wizards.” Not waiting for a reply, Nuada vanished.

– – – –

Severus entered his study to find Septimus lounging on chaise, contemplating a snifter of brandy. “It’s early for brandy,” he remarked idly.

Septimus scowled at the amber liquid.

Ignoring his friend’s foul mood, Severus offered, “Libby tells me Dobby was delighted after meeting Marcus.”

If possible, Septimus’ frown deepened. “Marcus adores the little fellow.” Septimus glared at him. “He’s so bloody exuberant.”

“Does that mean you wish to go forward with the bonding or no?”

Septimus waved his hand, as if dismissing all the details. “Yes, of course. Marcus will have no other house elf. He already considers them great friends. I’ll make arrangements with your mother for the meet fees.” He sighed and slumped further into the sofa.

“Difficult day?”

“I had an hour of Evander Weasley.”

“Ah.” Severus sat in one of the wingback chairs. “What did Lord Weasley want?”

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, Septimus asked, “Did you entreat him to make peace with me?”

Severus’ mouth fell open in a truly undignified way. He snapped it shut. “Of course not. He asked to see me to express his concerns about following the will of magic, and I told him I wasn’t surprised considering how his family has been flouting Magic since the separation of Lucinda and Nero. I hadn’t any notion that they were unaware of the true circumstances between the two. I suggested that he save us all some trouble and renounce his family magics.”

The glare Septimus was directing at his brandy should have lit it on fire by now. “He did not renounce. In fact, he made the vows to his magic. He then came to my home to apologize for his entire line but especially to Genevieve for the cutting remarks and rumors Corrine has made. And now I find myself in business with a Weasley.”

Severus stared, unable to follow the logic from point A to point B. “Are you certain he’s made the oaths.”

“Oh, quite. Bloody nundu appeared and bowed to me.”

“And what has any of that to do with going into business with him?”

“Well I can’t have a Weasley trying harder to make amends than I am!”

“Oh, Septimus…” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose.

Septimus waved him off. “Don’t go on. My magic tells me it is right to see the Weasley family restored. But I expect to be able to complain about it in private!”

“At your leisure, Lord Malfoy.”

“Oh, shut it. Except don’t because you owe me an explanation and I’ve waited a day longer than we agreed to.”

“Very well.” His wand dropped into his hand and he erected a privacy ward that he created as Snape, and therefore unknown in this time.

“I don’t recognize that spell…” Septimus cocked his head to the side. “One of yours?”

“Yes.” He took a breath, carefully ordering his thoughts. “I died on the 9th of May.”

Septimus blinked a few times. “You died?”

“Yes. And Gordian would have set some legislation into motion—that I cannot discuss for it shall never come to pass if I have anything to say about it—that brought a taint to the magic of all of Britain. The Great Lady herself asked that King Nuada help see my soul back to my body, healing me of the venomous bite. Because I have dedicated my line to the service of Magic and intend to prevent damage to our magic, the king interceded so that I can continue the work I was sent back for.” It was a very careful set of truths made to seem like something else.

“You died,” Septimus repeated. “I find that idea intolerable.”

“I’m not fond of it either,” Severus said dryly.

Septimus snorted. “You bloody arse.” He took a breath. “And before you ask, of course I’ll make an unbreakable vow not to disclose the information about your death and resurrection and purpose on behalf of Magic unless you give me leave to do so.”

“Thank you, Septimus.”

His oldest friend inclined his head. “I’m am grateful to the king for bringing you back to us. I was surprised he actually has a silver arm! Legend had it that the healer Miach regrew his arm so that he could once again be king.”

“I asked him about that once.” Nuada had been on his third bottle of firewhiskey at the time and oddly willing to answer questions. “It was actually flesh grown over the arm. He said he appreciated Miach’s efforts but came to find the necessity of the flesh offensive. The wound was an honorable one, obtained in battle or some such thing. At some point, the law about a king being whole was changed and he had the flesh removed.” Severus made a face. It sounded appalling.

“How horrible. And yet, he’s real, and he saved your life with the actual Sword of Light. I suppose the myth about Excalibur being the Sword of Light is false since the king of the sidhe still carries his sword.”

“Personally? I think Excalibur is the sword carried by Cú Chulainn.”

“Who?”

“A would be king of Ireland. A sword had been crafted for the future king and Chulainn aspired to be such. But the Coronation Stone refused to call out his name. In anger, he swung his sword at the stone and split it in two. Because of Chulainn’s arrogance, the magical stone would no longer belong to Ireland. Magic took the sword that had broken the stone and magically endowed it to only respond to the future king. The sword was magically blessed and driven through both halves of the stone, holding it together until a new king could be declared. The stone, now with the sword piercing it, was cast back to the Earth.

“When Arthur pulled the sword, he felt compelled to keep the stone. The only king who walked between the muggle and the magical world would eventually give one half of the stone to muggle Britain and the other half to wizarding Britain, while the sword would forever belong to his line and the location of it is only known to Magic.” Severus had never in his life thought or read any of that before, but he’d seen it playing out in his head as he spoke.

“That’s…fascinating.” Septimus frowned. “My magic resonates the truth of that story. How peculiar. The Coronation Stone. Also called the Lia Fáil. One of the four treasures of the Children of Danu—the Sword of Light, the Coronation Stone, Dagda’s Cauldron, and Lugh’s Spear. We know of the existence of two of them.”

“Three,” Severus corrected.

“Oh?”

“How do you think my body was reanimated?”

“That’s lovely,” Septimus enthused. “Dagda’s cauldron actually exists. Lugh’s Spear must be real as well. How very interesting indeed.”

“Septimus,” Severus said slowly, “what plots are you entertaining?”

“Nothing, my friend. My magic both prods me to know more and cautions me to be prudent. I’ll take no action except for prodigious research.”

– – – –

“Severus, Septimus,” Iola Black called out as she entered the library where they had been reading books on the various mythologies of the UK. She had Marcellus Parkinson and Henry Potter with her. “I’m so glad you’re both here. Might we speak a moment? Privately?”

Rather than go back to his study, Severus sealed the library so the five of them could speak. They moved to the reading area and spread out on the more comfortable couches and arm chairs.

“I’ve come into some information that greatly concerns me. I’m unsure how we should proceed, so I asked Marcellus and Lord Potter to join us.”

Severus and smiled. One thing he’d learned in the short period of time that Iola had been the Countess of Blackmoor was that she was a force of nature. She could be charming and unassuming all the while getting wizard and witch alike to tell all their secrets.

Iola began with, “The issue is that it’s been nearly four months since the magical lords and ladies of the United Kingdom began renewing their vows to their magic. Despite Lord Parkinson’s judicious use of the secrecy oaths enacted to ensure the Assembly was of one mind before addressing the rest of the Wizengamot, people have noticed that something is amiss. In the absence of knowledge, they’ve resorted to rumor. Friday’s attack on Severus has only fueled the rampant speculation.

“At the standard weekly meeting of the Wizengamot in two days, which is often poorly attended by the nobles, there will be a bill introduced that ostensibly gives department heads a vote in matters that concern their department. The problem is that the language is so vague that there’s no prohibition on department heads voting on any issue they wish. Nor does it prevent the ministry from creating dozens of new positions with the title of department head, thus giving them a vote on the Wizengamot. Which is exactly, according to my source, the reason this bill was crafted. And the ministry has maneuvered a lot of support from the Assembly Elect.”

“Dear Merlin. That could be a catastrophe,” Septimus murmured.

Iola continued. “Minister Evermonde is paranoid about the intentions of this body. He and Lord Potter’s heated debates over assisting muggles during their last war are quite legendary. And the actions of our Assembly have engendered further suspicion.”

Henry Potter had been vocal in his belief that wizarding Britain had a duty to assist muggles during the war, though he’d never suggested the actual use of magic. He’d proposed shelter and medical care, but Evermonde had used the emergency powers of his office to prohibit any assistance to muggles. Many wizarding families did so anyway, risking fines or possibly imprisonment. Severus didn’t disagree with Henry, though he saw the concern with the statute of secrecy.

Most wizards were ill-prepared for the muggle world and certainly not ready for the muggle world at war. The temptation to use magic would be too great. But Evermonde had gone too far and prohibited any aid to muggles during the war, which greatly overstepped his bounds. But only a 70 percent majority of the of the Noble Assembly and Assembly Elect could overturn a ministerial decree issued with emergency powers. But the Assemblies never agreed to such an extent that it was possible to fight Evermonde’s mandate.

“I think,” Iola added, “he believes this body is moving to nullify the power of the ministry. There are twenty-eight known votes in the Noble Assembly as we have yet to announce the claiming of the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor votes. The Assembly Elect also has twenty-eight. There are eight active votes for Order of Merlin winners, and there are ten authorized votes for the ministry. With this bill, and if the minister is successful at stirring up paranoia within the Assembly Elect, we could be outvoted even if we stand united.”

“That’s not strictly true,” Severus said slowly, mind spinning on the issue. “I’ve been doing rather a lot of research lately.” Nearly everyone snorted at his statement of the obvious. “The ministry was designed to simply be the administrative arm of the two Assemblies. I propose a counter bill that the ministry, regardless of how many departments, has a limit of ten votes and that certain votes are required to be assigned to certain heads—such as the DMLE gets two, one for the department head and one for the head auror. Same with the Department of Mysteries. Aside from that action, we need to refresh the memories of wizarding Britain on our system of governance.

“As you all are aware, each of the twenty-eight regions in the United Kingdom have a noble representative and an elected representative. I admit I’ve failed in my duty to magic in many regards, but especially in regards to my district. I’ve barely exchanged three words with the Kielder Elect, and I haven’t been to Kielder Castle since I was a child. I consider Prince Manor my ancestral seat, but even as I say those words, I felt in my magic that I’m wrong. I’ll address my failure to go to the castle, but I feel that it’s my duty to work with the Kielder Elect to handle the unique issues of my district and my House.

“So I propose that we call a combined sessions of the Noble and Elect Assemblies tomorrow. Have the Noble Assembly meet in the morning and bring in the Elect later, or something of that nature. Then we bring them into our confidence and task them to help solve the issues we face. All the issues, not just the machinations of Minister Evermonde.”

Everyone looked thoughtful, but he could tell they weren’t all convinced. He was certain that Iola at least agreed with him.

She said, “I’ve been carefully studying the protocol of our Assembly and the privacy provisions to ensure secrecy on anyone who comes into the Assembly.”

Severus added, “It’s worth noting that one thing I found in own my research is that the we’ve all only seen the abridged version of the Wizengamot charter. There was a bill introduced by Minister Grogan Stump in 1811 to publish the abridged since the full charter was so long and cumbersome absolutely no one would read it. The bill allowed removal of ‘information irrelevant to the governance of Magical Britain.’

“I found a copy of the actual original charter in Lady Ravenclaw’s vault—I have copies I can give to you—and the last full charter in the Prince family library. I’m sure many, if not all, of you have full copies in your libraries.”

“I distinctly remember seeing the Malfoy copy,” Septimus confirmed. “Though I’ve never been inclined to read it.”

“This is speculation, but I think there’s a minor compulsion in the ink the abridged charter is written in that discourages reading the full charter.”

Marcellus leaned forward, thumping his cane on the floor. “And what’s in the charter Stump didn’t want future generations to see?”

“One founding principle of the charter that was notably excluded from our abridged version is that if the Noble Assembly should ever act with unified purpose, their will may not be gainsaid regardless of how many voting seats were added. It was a provision written by Salazar Slytherin because they knew the Wizengamot would one day grow beyond the nobles.”

Everyone stared at Severus, several with mouths agape.

Finally, Henry Potter asked, “Are you saying that the Noble Assembly could have complete rule of wizarding Britain?” Henry Potter was thirty years old, four years younger than Severus and Septimus, which saved them from being the youngest members on the Wizengamot.

“If we’re of one mind, yes,” Severus replied easily. “Which will happen rarely. I’ve noticed each has different areas we are focusing our energies for magical reform. We will not all agree. Except, perhaps, on overthrowing a bill giving the ministry possibly untold powers.”

Marcellus leaned back against the sofa, tapping his cane on the floor gently. “Interesting.” He shot Severus a shrewd look. “And do we reveal this to the Assembly Elect.”

“That would not be my recommendation. This we keep to ourselves. It’s better to work with the Assembly Elect, to bring them into our confidence and let them share in our purpose. But, should it become necessary, we do have the authority vested in us to speak with one voice and stop the ministry’s grab for power. Merlin’s intent was that those who held the family magics would be able to maintain control if they were unified.”

Marcellus continued to stare at Severus. “I think you were sorted into the wrong house.”

“Pardon?” Severus asked, startled.

“You may be intelligent, Lord Prince, but you’ve shown yourself far too cunning to truly care about knowledge for the sake of itself. How very Slytherin of you to hide behind a book so that no one noticed you until you were ready to reveal yourself.”

Severus opened his mouth then closed it again. He did consider himself more Slytherin than Ravenclaw based on the current ordering of the houses. “All I will say is if Hogwarts still functioned as the founders intended, there is little doubt that I’d have been in Slytherin. But in the bastardized sorting we have today, I’m quite certain the Hat made no error in placing me in the House of the Roc.”

Marcellus’ eyes narrowed. “I’m going to need some Scotch for this because I’ll not be quitting myself of your hospitality until I’ve heard the whole of it.”

“Hear, hear!” Septimus agreed readily.

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Chapters 3-4 | Main Page | Chapters 7-8

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