Chapter 1.20

The Headmaster was getting on my nerves with his incessant questioning.

"Are you certain you wish to proceed, Severus? I wouldn't think any less of you if you decided this level of involvement was too much, my boy."

I could only frown at that. What was I supposed to do? Arrange for the old man to obliviate Slughorn and burn my notes? No. for my own sanity I had to proceed. Now I've actually produced this wonderful potion I could not bear to keep it hidden.

"No, sir. I have to share it. I have to."

The Headmaster returned my frown when he asked, "Why do you feel you must be set on this course?"

Doesn't he see?

"Sir, if I stop or hesitate now... If I somehow managed to turn back the clock...how I could I justify that? How could I sit by and let everyone, everywhere, get hurt when I have something that could make the end to all their suffering so trivial?"

He still didn't look entirely convinced, "I have to admit you have a point, my boy. However I can't recommend holding yourself to that standard. Between you and I, it gets rather tiresome after a while."

What?

He really doesn't see it? Bloody hell, I know I don't have the firmest grasp on right and wrong, but I'm a teenager, what's his excuse?

"Headmaster. If someone in Paris contracts incurably Dragon Pox' and dies it's my fault. How can you not see this? If I have the power to stop it, all this suffering – which I incidentally do posses - , then how could you not understand the crushing weight of guilt would destroy me."

I have the world in my palm and he's wondering why I'm worried about squeezing it!

This got a long silence from the man. After a good while he finally spoke up, "I applaud your compassion, my boy. Again though I must caution against carrying all of this with you. It will not end well, I know this from experience."

I simply raised an eyebrow prodding the man to elaborate, "I've had many a conversation with Nicholas Flamel, my old Alchemy instructor, about this very subject. He has certainly agonized himself over the issue, my boy."

I just had to give to the man. He name-drops Flamel and just casually mentions him as his Alchemy instructor. Not as the only immortal man in the world. Or the bloke who invented the Philosophers stone.

No, he was just Albus Dumbledore's Alchemy instructor. How fitting.

I just narrowed at me eyes at the man and said, "I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Flamel can rationalize his concerns however he pleases. I, however, am not interested in carrying his sins."

And that neatly put an end to his platitudes. Really... why would he believe I care what he thinks?

As we made our way to the Wizengamot the Headmaster kept periodically glancing at me. I didn't mind it all that much. Either way as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot it was within his power to call an emergency meeting. Of course, to ensure that he didn't needlessly step on anyone's toes, we made sure to step by the Minister before hand. We may have lost a half hour or so while he got his head around the implications before we eventually made to the impressive Hall of the Wizengamot.

Old men and women shuffled into the Hall within minutes. There was an excited titter about the gathered folk and I had to wonder who managed to spill the secret this early. If this illustrious body would think to keep my invention solely for themselves, couched in patriotic terms I'm sure, they'd be in for a rather rapid disappointment.

I was roused from my inner turmoil when suddenly the massive gates to the Hall locked themselves with an absolutely deafening sound. The Headmaster, or in this case more accurate the Chief Warlock, called the meeting to order and explained the reason for the seclusion.

"My Lords and Ladies; we must proceed carefully in this most joyous of occasions. One of our own young students at Hogwarts has recently kicked up quite the stir. I'm sure you're all aware of his earlier accomplishments." He cheekily added, "Despite the measures taken to promote secrecy, I'm sure."

I firmly ignored the polite tittering of the gathered geriatrics. I was getting slightly antsy. They might not see reason, they might prove to be burdensome, or perhaps they'd surprise me. I doubted the later.

Either way; the Path would help guide me through this. Dumbledore worked his way through his opening statement and opened the floor to questions. Questions I was supposed to answer.

The first came from Lord Abbott, having the lucky distinction of being the first House mentioned on the Roll Call, and asked, "I believe I'm speaking for everyone gathered here when I add own my praise for your recent accomplishments, Mr. Snape."

Of course. While I didn't mind getting praised I'd much rather he get to the point.

"This latest wondrous find is of such singular brilliance that I could be hard pressed to find even a single of our fictitious heroes matching it. Save the legends surrounding Helga Hufflepuff's vaunted Grail of Healing which you might have even surpassed!"

Oh good lord. Please, just hurry it along.

"I apologize if I'm making you feel uncomfortable, young man. I'll get to the point. My question, young Mr. Snape, is what exactly are the limitations surrounding your cure-all?"

Finally.

I stood up from the dais they erected for the witness stand and waited for my path to provide the words. Instead it counseled silence for a good ten seconds.

Eventually I was told nod my head and to say, "Thank you for your kind words, Lord Abbott."

A polite piece of theatrics later, "As far as I'm aware there are a few limitations on the potion which I have incidentally named Ambrosia. Firstly while it does help extend ones life it is by no means an Elixir of Life. It will heal your ailments but there will come a point where the returns of downing a vial of it will start to diminish. Furthermore it can only heal ailments that are not inborn. It doesn't help with hereditary issues. Unfortunately it merely reverts your body to it's 'peak' health."

Those two points needed to be put out there. I had no intention of dealing with disappointed people.

I continued, "Next; it is incredibly difficult to brew. Only the best potioneers will be able to extract the best possible version from it's ingredients. The potion has an exceptionally low tolerance for errors which means that people attempting to brew this without professional supervision will be a danger to themselves and others."

Good, with that point out there I didn't need to feel guilty if some poor moron offed himself.'

I waited for the chattering to die down twelve seconds later, "The potion requires ingredients that are plentiful in our lands but hard to find abroad. I myself found my supply in the Forbidden Forest. In light of that I strongly urge this illustrious body to prevent any monopoly outside of state action to form. I firmly believe this cure belongs to all our people, my Lords and Ladies."

That got me a polite round of applause. The path ordered me to wait it out and turn to Dumbledore and say, "I believe I have a few more comments I would like share, would that be possible, sir?"

The old man bestowed a condescending smile upon me and asked if anyone had any objections.

There were none.

"My Lords and Ladies. I am of the opinion, and hope that you will concur with me, that a secret only remains so when it is firmly held within the mind of a single person. Since we have long since passed that provision I would put forth that we make no attempt to restrict our Ambrosia from other nations."

As I expected this was received with mixed feelings. These were not men and women who were accustomed to playing nice. Hell, I was fully cognizant of the fact that they might actively fight me on this. While I preferred they didn't...I was prepared for it.

Dumbledore had to call the gathered nobles to order, more than once in fact, before the unruly elders finally quieted down.

I continued, "I believe that with the right steps we, as a nation, could greatly benefit from exporting our Ambrosia for a fair price. As the preeminent magical nation in the world it is our duty, nay it should be our pleasure, to benevolently bestow this potion on to the entirety of the magical peoples of this world. Let us look towards our long term prospects instead of allowing our short term goals to cripple our standing abroad. In short, I beg of you Lords and Ladies, to allow me to present this potion to the International Confederation of Wizards."

Whether they did just that or not I was fully planning on sharing my findings with them. If they were smart, competent, or plain greedy they would focus on securing our own supply of ingredients.

In the meanwhile I didn't mind abasing myself. Not if it could prevent so many problems in the future.

I finished with, "If the words of a young man hold any sway with you, my Lords and Ladies, please focus your experienced minds on how to secure a supply stranglehold while freely sharing the potion's recipe with the world. My parents raised me to become a patriotic and proud young Briton, my Lords and Ladies. I beg of you to allow me to continue to cling to that pride in my country."

I didn't add the 'or else I'd fuck right off'. These politicians would infer it regardless.

Letter: written by Foldimort

Dear Master Snape
Or should I write 'Master Prince'. Oh hell's bells, this could go so badly. Dear Master Snape

I write to you on behalf of the esteemed Guild of Medical Potioneers. We must offer our heartfelt congratulations on your recent and most exceptional discovery of Ambrosia! We believe that you have single-handedly ushered in a new era of wellbeing for Wizard-kind, and in addition to all other matters, we wish to extend to you an unconditional offer of membership in our esteemed organisation. With us, you will have access to the finest library, laboratory and reagent stockpiles in the magical world, in addition to the collective experience, wisdom, and knowledge of our members, who include a man you may be familiar with; the exalted Nicolas Flamel.

We witnessed with gladness your gift of the miraculous Lycanthropy cure to the world, and many of our members recognise in you the philanthropic spirit which drove them also into the field of medicine. However, sadly, that same spirit has led many of us to license our curative recipies at the most meagre possible rates, reducing the cost of medical care for hundreds, but leaving us in no position to see the loss of our incomes.

And so, I must confess, I write also to convey some of the concerns of our members. We fear that if you are as generous with your creation of Ambrosia as your conscience no doubt spurrs you to be, that many of our members, also selfless warriors in the cause of human wellbeing, will be stricken destitute.

After much deliberation, I was instructed to write to you and beg that you license your universal panacea at a rate that properly reflects its value! Indeed, we believe that if it were positioned to be only four-tenths more expensive at the point of sale than the median cost of our members' more specific cures, then the needs of suffering paitents could be adequately met without leading to any of the noble potioneers who came before you being put out in the street.

Our members have also suggested the establishing of a fund, contributed to by all of our humanitarian members, to help pay for the treatment - whether by Ambrosia, or more traditional potions - of those who are unable to afford their own care. We welcome a man such as yourself to the world, a fierce intelligence backed by a generous heart, but be wary of your youthful exuberance, and do not, we pray, ignore the advice of your - older perhaps, but wiser - brothers and sisters in alchemy.

Yours sincerely,
Horatio Borage. BrPo, MWs, FGMP.
Clerk of the Guild of Medical Potioneers

Chapter 1.21

Words cannot express the relief I felt when the Wizengamot called for a recess. The gathered old men and women had been bickering, exhaustingly so in fact, and seemingly didn't even come close to a consensus. Fortunately they only needed a clean majority, which boiled down to sixty seven votes, out of the gathered hundred and one eligible to vote.

A notable pro-benevolence, or at least that was what I dubbed them, faction had sprung up around the nucleus of House Malfoy, Black, Blishwick, Lestrange, Yaxley and Rosier. It didn't escape my notice that despite Lord Malfoy doing most of the talking it was House Black calling the shots. Orion Black the Second whispered to this person, subtly threatened the next, and charmed yet another with a smile.

Of course it didn't hurt that save for House Malfoy and Lestrange each of the other families had more than a little drop of Black blood running through their veins. If Lucius' own theories concerning his father's mind were accurate even that might change.

Another powerful factions were ostensibly led by House Longbottom, Abbot, Bones, Prewett and Potter but were more widely known as Dumbledore's mouth pieces. Perhaps I was being a touch too uncharitable towards them but I didn't mind. The best I could say about them was that they didn't oppose my path.

Which brings us to the last two factions. One of them I tentatively labeled as the holdouts. These disparate Houses were represented by House Zabini, Flint, Prince, Bulstrode and Greengrass. I got the sense that those Houses and their hangers on weren't heavily invested in either outcome. All they were doing was holding on to their own bloc in order to collectively bargain for a bigger slice of the pie. Whichever way the pie turned out.

I could work with that. They seemed like the reasonable, and properly Slytherin, sort.

The last faction simply wasn't interesting in letting this opportunity slip through their fingers. House Crouch was firmly in command of this lot with other notable Houses being Macmilian, Burke, Shafiq and Gamp. A few other lesser Houses gravitated towards them which meant that they held on to just enough votes to block my path inspired vision.

This wasn't something I was about to allow. Even if Lord Crouch has been so helpful to me.

The Hall was still locked and nobody was allowed out. This type of meeting was generally reserved for war time conclaves but it seemed applicable for today. Unfortunately for the people involved it meant that nobody could leave or enter it. This didn't include messages being delivered by House Elves however for obvious reasons. If the enemies were at the gates there would be no issue getting the unanimous votes necessary to open the Hall again.

Of course once the house elves enter with a note from outside they can't leave again. Countless generations of cunning witches and wizards had attempted to sway their colleagues by these messages. A fake distress call from their Houses or by some other clever fabrication they changed the tone of discourse to their advantage.

None of them would be as effective as the letters I had prepared.

"Good evening, young Mr. Snape."

I turned around, plastered a smile on my face, and said, "Likewise, sir. I must thank you for your support. I was worried everyone here would simply dismiss my words."

Oh, that wasn't the way I would have played it. It seemed a touch arrogant to insinuate that I had changed their minds on such a weighty subject. I was willing to trust that the path knew how to handle this though.

The aging Lord Malfoy simply smiled, "Think nothing of it, Severus. Between you and I..I'm not entirely certain those Crouch lackeys understand the consequences of their position."

I was told to merely smile.

The next few minutes was a swirl of activity as Lord Malfoy introduced me around. I shook hands, I smiled prettily, and pretended to be a properly humble young man. I didn't mind. Not with my mind-voice whispering the perfect words to me.

Lord Rosier however seemed to entirely untouched by my self abasement. My path indicated I should throw a few smirks his way in between answering the simpering questions Lord Lestrange was sending my way.

"Good lord, child. You must tell me! How did you come up with all these discoveries? Where do you find the time?"

I stared him straight in the eyes as I regurgitated the voice in the back of my mind, "Generally, my lord, I sit down and think for a good long while on any given problem."

I was instructed to fall silent after this. The silence stretched on and on until Lestrange couldn't quite contain himself anymore, "Well, what then?"

I smiled at the man, "And then the answers come to me."

He didn't seem to enjoy my response nearly as much as Lord Rosier did, "Hah, I was wondering when the lad would get fed up with catering to our dignified ego's."

Lord Malfoy joined in with the laughter, "He doesn't seem to that issue with me, Evan. Do you think I should take offense?"

His name was Evan? What the...

What was it with these ancient lords and their incessant need to afflict their offspring with their own names. At least Evan wasn't such a burden to carry. Poor Barty on the other hand just had to suffer his name in quiet resignation.

Lord Black finally joined in, "Don't be preposterous Abraxas, we all suffer the occasional indignation when our sons friends grow too familiar, it's our cross to bear."

Wow. Every time I think the man can't possible exude more haughtiness he just blindside me. I quietly suffered their condescending laughter until Lord Rosier finally turned towards me again.

"Do tell, young man. If you weren't so insistent on bending over backwards for us. What would you say?"

Occasionally the mind-voice seems to nudge me forward. I say something outrageous that I never could have pulled off without the smile on my face cracking. This time wasn't any different.

My grin turned slightly predatory when I said, "I'd ask you a frank question which might offend you."

This got a loud laugh from all of them, even the dour Lord Black, but Rosier gestured for me to get on with it.

"We won't be too offended young man. You needn't worry about us suddenly abandoning our highly profitable course of action."

Was that supposed to settle my nerves?

Either way; now it was coming.

My grin never moved an inch as I said, "Why are you so comfortable in your prejudices?"

I extended my grin even as the silence grew nearly unbearable. Lord Malfoy broke first with a bright laugh that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside the man. Rosier wasn't much behind but Lord Black stared at me.

With only a touch of frost on his tone he managed to convey, "Could you elaborate, young man?"

I nodded and replied, "Are you not worried that while wearing the blinders of your blood purity inspired prejudices you'll be left behind in these troublesome times?"

Well, this was certainly going to be interesting. I was almost shaking with anticipation.

Still slightly frostily Lord Black said, "Are we in such danger then, boy, at the present?"

I smiled at the ancient Lord and replied, "Of course, sir."

I ignored their polite tittering and waited.

Lord Rosier finally asked, "And is there something in particular that drives this inquest?"

I was ordered to snort and reply, "There's this Dark Lord out there, sir, who's coming for your children. Children you imbued with your notions of blood purity. If I might even add that those, most of them my friends that you've left vulnerable, cannot distinguish useful politics from truth."

And now the entire atmosphere changed. Lord Rosier and Malfoy suddenly weren't so cheery anymore. Each of the Lords surrounding me narrowed their eyes, shuffled backwards, or simply stared at me.

Once again Lord Black took the lead, "What exactly would you know of the Dark Lord, boy? What do you think you know about truth and power?"

What came next out of my mouth surprised the shite out of me.

"All power stems from the end of a wand, gentlemen." I quieted down for a few seconds before barreling through, "I know that the hydra of blood purism flared up with Solaris. I know Grindelwald nursed it back to health and Dumbledore let him. I know that Riddle attempts to carry it still."

It hit me almost immediately. Riddle is attempting to continue blood purism. The bloody Dark Lord was called Riddle. Riddle isn't a pure blood name. The Dark Lord isn't a pure blood.

THESE PEOPLE KNEW THIS.

Oh god...

I was once more instructed to smile and say, "Have you given any thought on what to base your policies on when he's not an issue anymore and your children no longer need to cripple themselves?"

Oh.

Thank god.

That was much more doable. For a split second I was worried I had just declared war on all the pure bloods. Dealing with just the Dark Lord seemed somehow much more doable.

Lord Rosier was the only one to return my smile with a grin of his own.

Chapter 1.22

I could follow along with where the mind-voice was going with this. I'm no stranger to these thoughts myself. Especially considering the myriad ways in which the pure bloods in Slytherin have disappointed me with. The thought that they were somehow superior to me was preposterous. Even before my mind-voice started whispering to me. They were wealthier, sure. They had contacts dating back generations, yes. They had a truly spectacular safety net in the form of their long established families, sure.

Them being inherently better than me was straight out of the question. They were too...what's the word I'm looking for?

Ah, yes.

Stupid.

What I never understood was why people like Bellatrix, and even my friend Lucius, seemed to truly believe in the convenient fiction. Did their elders not warn them? Were they possibly so fearful of the Dark Lord, of Riddle, that they couldn't bring to let them into the 'secret' so to speak?

Could they not grasp they already ruled the world?

It made a great deal more sense to me that the bigotry simply stems from powerful pure bloods struggling to hold on to their influence. Distracting the population with an easy scapegoat was the play of countless ruling classes throughout history. Muggleborns couldn't reasonably be expected to strike back efficiently, especially when you consider they lacked each of the advantages held by the pure bloods, which seemed to be the main attraction to marginalizing them.

At best they'll be a small minority that eventually, should they not melt back into the Muggle world, can work their way into the already existing power structures with the help of patrons.

The masses of the wizarding world get their sacrificial scapegoat that they can blame for all their ills. The pure bloods can strut around with their dignified heritages and be reasonably certain said masses won't storm their manses with the equivalent of pitchforks. And of course the established ruling classes can pick and choose the cream of the crop to absorb in their ranks.

The system works.

It has worked ever since Roman times.

The only way it won't work is if suddenly the barriers to social promotion get calcified. It collapses on itself once fresh blood can't have it ambitions sufficient quenched within the system. After which the system implodes on itself. It happened to the Alexandrians when they closed their citizen rolls. It happened to Western Rome when they didn't let the Germans in to play with them. It happened to France when they didn't allow their wealthy and influential commoners to join their noble classes.

And sooner or later it would happen to the Wizarding World.

If I had my guess right my mind-voice was plotting a path to de-calcifying our stratified society.

Lord Rosier broke the terse silence, "Imagine, young man, that we are not as old and decrepit as you might believe us to be. Imagine, if you will, that we are well aware of this concern. What would you say to that, young Mr. Snape?"

My mind-voice counseled silence for eleven seconds, during which I was to establish short bursts of eye contact with everyone around, and finally say, "In the face of a wizard with overwhelming magical might I can grasp the difficulties you might have had. One might wonder though whether the risks of your chosen path outweigh the risks of keeping your heirs ignorant. Then again...when ignorance is bliss..."

And then the path told me to shut it.

Lord Yaxley piped up nodding fervently, "Yes, yes! Then it's a folly to be wise."

Lord Rosier waved the excitable man down and said, "Do you feel this is no longer a concern?"

Now my mind-voice wanted me to smile and say, "It most certainly won't be a long term concern. Of course, I can't guarantee anything, despite my confidence in my abilities I might slip and catch a killing curse."

This suddenly got a loud guffaw from Lord Malfoy and Rosier.

My wand moved lightning fast and within seconds a bubble of silence hung all around us. The elder Lord Black had already cast his spells surreptitiously but the path felt they weren't secure enough.

I briefly wondered who might have overheard us.

I stubbornly ignored their laughter and bulled through, "Barring that though, yes. Riddle won't be a concern much longer. I can't predict him in his madness which means I have no use for him."

Dead silence.

I imagine it must look awfully strange to them. Here, in front of them, stands a curious young chap whose concern with the current murderous Dark Lord isn't about his evil ways. No, the young lads concerns were that his own devious ploys might not survive contact with such a volatile Dark Lord.

I had to choke down on a smile all of my own while these gentlemen were coming to terms with me.

I couldn't help but be somewhat excited by the smirk playing around Lord Rosier's lips. I got the sense I had just told him Christmas had come early and brought New Years with it as well. The man just looked so damn pleased.

Lord Black had to interject though, "Do you believe you can predict us so easily, boy?"

Right then it happened. It was what I was waiting for.

Right at that moment the bell went off that signified the house elves carrying the messages would appear momentarily. Within seconds a veritable army of them plopped loudly into the Hall, handed of their letters, and promptly made themselves invisible. While I couldn't hear the other elderly witches and wizards I could make out the commotion. Far too many house elves had appeared carrying messages.

Almost all of them were mine. The next round of votes will be the last.

As each of the Lords I was holding court with frowned, having not expected a letter, and struggled with opening them I had to clamp down another loud laugh, yet again. I didn't need to convince this lot to think with their purses. I did however need them suitably awed.

So when they all got a little note describing the questions they had asked. Most notably Lord Black's latest...?

I didn't bother holding it in anymore when Lord Malfoy, Rosier, Lestrange and Yaxley all started laughing madly. Lord Black had paled and was struggling to retain his composure. Good, the man deserved to be taken down a peg.

"Yes, my Lord Black, I believe I can."

Ah, the perks of having a mind-voice that can divine the future.

Lord Malfoy asked me when they were done making fun of Lord Black's misfortune, "Moving on. I'm interested in your allusion to Dumbledore's involvement with Grindelwald."

A smile and a wink, "His personal involvement with the man or the way he took advantage of his politics?"

Ah, had Dumbledore perhaps been listening in? Is he what prompted my path to decide we needed more privacy?

I wonder what he thought of this and resigned myself to having provided the man with more fodder to question me on.

Lord Black simply frowned, clearly still peeved, and bit out, "Do get on with it, Mr. Snape. We're all well acquainted with the man's proclivities."

There we go. Can't call me boy anymore can you old man?

"The man has made out rather well for himself. Grindelwald stoked up the fires of blood purism and Dumbledore greatly benefited from the high regard that its myriad victims have for him."

I fell silent for precisely four seconds, "He modeled himself after the eccentric wizards of Muggle stories catching Muggleborns almost immediately as they set foot in Hogwarts. Why would he let go of them when they leave his institution? Why wouldn't he continue throwing himself up as their, and countless other half bloods, savior and benevolent patron? Why would he skewer your politics when you deliver all those earlier mentioned into his hands?"

I was instructed to smile widely and hold still for nine seconds, "Especially when your heirs might just deliver everyone else if he simply waits?"

Is this true?

I mean...I knew my path wasn't above lying. Hell, I wasn't above lying so why would it?

But was this just a convincing lie or was it a true picture of the world? Was Dumbledore truly this competent? Did he plan for all of this or did it simply land into his lap?

Either way the elder Lords in front of my seemed to be lapping it up.

Lord Black almost immediately responded, "I see. Is this why you feel my anti-eavesdropping measures were not sufficient, Mr. Snape?"

Heh, I must have truly hit him right in the ego.

I just flashed him an equally haughty look of my own and just said, "Dumbledore."

Letter from; Narcissa Black to Druella & Cygnus Black

Dearest Father,

I pray this letter finds you and Mother well.

Classes are proceeding as expected however I find myself occupied with a small curiosity. The circumstances to which I am referring involve the Snape boy. To wit , Cousin Regulus' studies have progressed at a very capable rate with the sole exception of Potions, for which we engaged the aforementioned Mr. Severus Snape, a most outstanding halfblood potioneering student, for the tutoring of Regulus. Normally this series of events would not have any passing merit, however Regulus with our cousin Bartemous Crouch, have impressed upon this Snape boy a need for tutoring in Duelling. Regulus does delight in vexing me, which I admit is a disappointment as he was such a sweet biddable small child, Alas, such are the perils of family.

The reasons for my concerns about this Snape boy stem from his utterances regarding the unsuitability of the Dark Lord and his reputedly subduing thirteen of of those malcontents who have placed themselves at the Dark Lord's direction. His claims include apprehending these hooligans as they were on the cusp of action in Hogsmeade, after which he apparently handed them over to the Aurors with our Headmaster as witness. For an unmannerly young man of questionable antecedents, he has shown some rather interesting capabilities outside of his stated calling of Potions. I am utterly adrift as to what this Dark Lord and his cohorts hoped to accomplish beyond terribly inconveniencing the very people they claim to represent? Should the veracity of these events be proven, he has my thanks as I could not imagine losing the only divertisement we have access to in school. Life would be simply unbearable.

All this after a small tete a tete on presentation. I must humbly admit a small measure of satisfaction and delight that the direct result of such trivial applications of spellcraft and am rather pleased as I am always when I contribute to a young person well placed out.

Mentioning familial circumstances leads to our dear Bellatrix's perilous considerations on this Snape matter. I suspect they require a more direct examination since Bella seems absolutely bound and determined to explore and discover those capabilities. I dread to detail that Bella, intransigent and impetuous as always, sought to put paid the Snape boy for his articulations in regards to the Dark Lord. It was an utter rout. Disaster is too kind of a word in these circumstances. Please take a moment to reflect on my included reminiscences I have amassed for better understanding and I wait for your wisdom on this matter. I simply must confess to a modest measure of amusement at how utterly backfooted dear Bella found herself. Ah me, I am such a poor sister for including such an event. I will have to attempt to bear such burdens with grace.

I admit a shameful lack of cogent information. Is this puissance from the Proper side of his Family? He also claims some Seer ability?

The on-dit about his Family, that I am aware of, does not include any known Seers. Perhaps the circumstances of his parentage are more creditable than reported? It is of minor import as there is no recognition of Family connexions to the best of my understanding.

Please ask Mother to send my second favorite pair of shoes as a Hogsmeade weekend fast approaches and I expect an invitation to Tea from Lucius Malfoy and my favorite shoes just will not match.

Well, my dear Father I have no more to say.

Your dutiful Daughter,

Narcissa Cassiopeia Black

Interlude: Druella Black nee Rosier

I've always been of the opinion that Walburga Black is, and always has been, a singularly loathsome women. If dear old Lucretia hadn't agreed to come along, after I strenuously insisted she helped dilute the vile woman's attentions, I would have simply spurned her invitation. I was still of mind to excuse myself at the earliest convenience hadn't Cygnus and Orion arrived right at that moment. They hadn't arrived alone either. Flanked by the two were Abraxas Malfoy and my brother Evan.

"Good lord, Orion. We get it, you've been grievously injured by the lad, but have greater concerns at play here."

Oh?

I didn't need to ask who they were talking about. Everything this past week seemed to revolve around a curious young boy by the name of Severus Snape. I had no doubt this somehow involved him as well.

"Good evening, Husband. Brother. Parvenu. What ails dear old Orion this fine evening?"

Abraxas took it in good stead. He knows I don't actually disapprove of and his fine young son but every so often they must be reminded of their upstart roots.

"Must we go through this again, Druella?"

I elected to ignore that.

Evan walked over to kiss me on the cheek and whispered to me, "Exciting things are afoot, my dear sister."

I turned to him, "Oh?"

He flashed me his, despite his age still fairly mischievous, smile and said, "Young Mr. Snape has created a cure-all, sweet sister. A veritable panacea that heals virtually all injuries and diseases!"

Orion grumpily bit out, "There are still a handful of limitations."

Abraxas laughed his delightfully boorish guffaw, "Still so very sore, Orion? It's as close to a panacea as anyone has ever discovered. Excepting Flamel and his miraculous concoction, of course."

Good heavens. I was growing more and more impressed with the young Snape. Perhaps Bella had more of an eye for talent than I gave her credit for?

Evan spoke up, "And unlike that old shut-in, Mr. Snape has seen fit to share his Ambrosia with the world. The lad even went so far as to threaten and cajole half the Wizengamot to see it to that us greedy old men didn't seek to restrict it!"

My brother looked exceptionally pleased. There was something ever so slightly different about him, beyond his current high spirits, that I couldn't quite grasp. Something significant had occurred and I had no doubt I'd get to the bottom of it. Sooner hopefully than later.

Abraxas smiled widely and said, "He orchestrated a unanimous vote! I never thought I'd see the day, Evan!"

What was ailing Orion? I had never seem the man so discombobulated. I was about to inquire but then Warbulga offered up some inane comment or other. I barely paid any attention to it and simply left whatever matter she'd brought up to her poor husband.

Instead I turned to Evan and whispered to him, "What happened, brother? You look-."

He interrupted me and said, "Happier? Hopeful? My dear Druella! Our futures are looking ever so bright, once more. Young Mr. Snape is everything I had hoped for!"

Before I could ask him to elaborate when one of our house elves, Mimsy, appeared and handed me a small parcel. I took it from the creature and noted with delight it was sent by Narcissa. I spent the next few minutes carefully reading through her writings before turning to Orion.

"Orion, dear, might I impose upon you for your pensive? Narcissa has sent us a memory she feels we should urgently peruse."

So it was said and so it was done. Kreacher, the Black head elf, hurried along with Orion's pensive. I upended the memory into the device and motioned for Cygnus to join me.

What we saw left a deep chill within me. The half blood Prince thoroughly dominated the cluster of Slytherins who dared oppose him. I was at times horrified at his decisiveness and at others I could barely believe the composure that let him control the flow of combat. I wasn't a duelist myself but even I could tell that his care to ensure nobody, excepting poor Bella, got hurt was breath taking. I could barely comprehend the spell he used to set all the students adrift into the air and resolved to look into it.

Cygnus chose to remain quiet with a pensive look about him as he rewound the memory back to it's beginnings. This time other details were made more clear to me. Narcissa obviously took note of queer demeanor as he entered the Slytherin common room, and smartly evacuated herself from the conflict, something which I greatly approved of.

When we watched it for a third time Cygnus finally spoke.

"That was a chilling display of combat mastery." He suddenly broke out in a smile, "I cannot express how gladdened I am he may prove able to to his words to action."

I simply asked him, "Oh?"

Instead of replying he changed the subject, "I'm inclined to open a personal dialogue with the young man, my dear."

I briefly considered pressing him on the issue but decided against it. If he thought it didn't bear mentioning I'd trust in that. This however was just his own way of asking for my input.

I obliged my husband and said, "Of course, Cygnus. This bears exploring, wouldn't you say?"

He looked at me, smiled yet again, and finally said, "I see no reason to stand in Bella's way if she feels she can pursue the lad. I may in fact encourage her, if that would at all help."

I agreed but there was no need to confirm. He knew my mind already. We exited the memory and in our stead Evan, Abraxas and Orion dipped into the memory.

"Well, what did you see, Druella?"

I clamped down on the urge to scowl and simply told Walburga, "Narcissa's compelling argument for further sequestering of your errant child, Walburga. I'm sure you've heard of the enmity between Sirius and young Mr. Snape. I look forward to you resolving the matter."

That certainly shut her down. Lucretia looked fairly curious but she'd hold it in. Within moments Evan withdrew from the pensive to start madly laughing. Abraxas joined in with his own ill refined giggles and Orion still looked unsettled. Lucretia and Walburga next made their way over to the pensive.

"What is the matter, dearest Cousin? You've been out of sorts ever since you walked in."

His gaze caught mine and he bit out, "Nothing of import. I trust you understand the pressing need to ensure that the Snape boy looks upon on Family with fondness?"

Not that it was any of his business, she is our daughter, but I agreed with my cousin.

Evan interjected, "And I trust you'll comprehend, Orion, that he likely won't agree to any match with either of Cygnus' daughters when you've struck poor Andromeda from your tapestry?"

Walburga had appeared just as Evan shared that ludicrous opinion but again, I barely paid any attention to her incessant screeching. Instead I focused on my brother. Why would he think that?

Orion saved me the trouble of inquiring, "Oh? Why would that be, Evan?"

Abraxas slung his arm around Orion flaunting his disregard for proper decorum and said, "Isn't it obvious? Did you not see the murderous rage in his eyes when Augustus Prince tried to worm his way into our conversation?"

"What does that-."

Evan just interrupted him again, "Because, Orion, he seems more than a little peeved with the man who disowned his mother. I can only imagine the hardships they must have endured, if the rumors surrounding them are true, and he doesn't strike me as the type to easily forgive similar actions."

Abraxas swiftly responded, "And what about the tensions between your oldest and Severus? I can imagine the boy holding his...behavior rather against you."

Walburga once again droned on about the disgrace of my daughter but I wasn't about to acknowledge her. Not when she so terribly failed her own children.

I said, "Andromeda has chosen her path and I believe it's one that she will not be dissuaded from."

Abraxas stared me down with a curious glint in his eyes, "Then perhaps it's time for us to change our paths to reflect hers."

I...I didn't know what to say to that.

Orion frowned a little before replying, "I'll give it some consideration and I'll speak frankly with Sirius. Until then I'm inclined to trust in Snape's ability to deal with our mutual friend."

Cygnus chose to interject, "Narcissa mentioned that young Mr. Snape implied he has some Seer abilities and she wonders why there hasn't been even so much as a rumor about the Prince line holding such a trait."

Evan frowned and replied, "That's because they don't have it. Trelawney, Wilkes and Shafiq are the only Seer bloodlines I'm aware of."

Cygnus continued, "She also inquired about the possibility of Snape's muggle father being distantly related to any defunct squib lines."

While this was interesting I excused myself to write a reply back to dear Narcissa. Cygnus requested I added a few words of his own after which I handed the message off to Mimsy.

My Dearest Narcissa,

As I write you, I must report that your Father and Uncle are quite beside themselves and find the circumstance in which Bellatrix has placed herself most disconcerting. Your poor Father! How he must have felt it! I depend on your comprehensive understanding on how your sister perceives a challenge and admit to some trepidation after viewing your recollections. It has always been her nature to be most intemperate with that which frustrates her. Remind your dear sister of Hogwart's motto, Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus, forcefully if necessary. I will not have it!

It is a discouragement that such Talent is found in these types of occurrences as I was informing Cousins Lucretia and Dorea during our weekly calls. This is a most unusual young man, and as I have always claimed, Blood will out. I think I shall take Tea with Aunt Cassiopeia to garner a more complete understanding of this young Snape's circumstances. Perhaps there is some Quality that has been obfuscated. It is such a shame I will be unable to meet with Aunt Cassiopeia until after the Holiday as the upcoming Annual Benefit Luncheon has me quite busy.

I am pleased to hear that your education progresses well. You simply must tell me about your Tea with the junior Mr. Malfoy. I will be meeting with the Women's Auxillary of Saint Mungos next week to Chair our Annual Benefit Lucheon and you may well imagine that I am delighted on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to Ladies.

Please continue to facilitate the tutoring as Cousin Charis and I agree that such a thing is only to the betterment of our families at this time. Do let Regulus know to expect a package from that Dreadful Woman and Uncle Orion. Poor child. Never mind the meanderings of an old woman.

I took the liberty of sending some of your favorite Family bagatelles for your Tea with the junior Mr. Malfoy. You always did love Aunt Elladora's earbobs. I look forward to your future correspondences.

With great affection,

Your Mother

Druella Black nee Rosier

PS: Your father wishes to convey his strict instruction Bella does not antagonize the Snape boy any further. I do hope I don't have to mention this goes for you, Regulus and Sirius as well.

Letter; written by Essus

Letter from: Cassiopeia Black to: Severus Snape

Young Master Snape,

It is my profound understanding that I am to be available to attend to your continued education during the upcoming Holidays. Please understand that this is no sinecure. Nihil agendo homines male agere discunt.* Be prepared to work hard, sweat profusely and should you lack proper focus bleed incessantly.

I shall expect you to be at my Floo at promptly 8 o'clock each and every morning during the second week of the summer holidays. You needn't bring anything save for you wand as I shall provide you, and Bellatrix, with adequate training equipment. You, from what I have been told, seem to be a promising young man, however I shall see if my brother's and nephew's discernment is correct.

I trust you will not disappoint me.

Should at any time I feel that you are not focused on the matters at hand, I will continue with my planned events and dismiss you to loose ends. I pray I have your understanding in this?

Furthermore it has been brought to my attention that you managed to spark the interest of young Regulus in the fine dueling arts. This must cease immediately. I will not have my most promising nephew crippling himself with such attitudes. Dueling is for lesser witches and wizards inclined to show off. What I will be teaching you, and my younger relations, bears far more resemble to battlefield combat.

In closing,

Cassiopeia Black
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

*By doing nothing, men learn to act wickedly.
An alternate interpretation, "The devil finds mischief for idle hands."

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