MetaFic

4 Oct 1991

The fire flared green briefly, but Severus was in no mood to spend another evening deflecting the headmaster’s constant attempts at conversation.  “I already told you, Albus, I'm not wasting –”

His words died in his throat as Lucius Malfoy’s face appeared in the fire.

“Greetings to you as well, Severus,” Lucius said.  “I find it curious that you're berating your former employer.”

Severus grunted briefly before waving one hand in a vague gesture of neither-here-nor-there.  “Yes, well, if you had the old fool in your fire every night, you'd be cursing, too.”  Severus realised that he would need to resume the practice of calculated paranoia now that he was no longer living in the castle.  The first step would be to creatively modify his floo connection.

Lucius smiled faintly, reminding Severus of the old days.  The years had been kind to the man who had been one of the Dark Lord’s most ardent followers.  “That would be why my floo connection is restricted.  Perhaps you should look into the same?  So that only your old friends could come calling, and with some assurance of their privacy?”

Severus exhaled slowly, knowing that this was no idle question or simple request.  Lucius wanted something, was up to something, and Severus was being asked to participate.  Not that he would consider it in such mild terms.  “Of course, Lucius.  Something I had overlooked, not living here for most of the year.”

“Yes,” Lucius agreed with a bland smile, “about that.  Do you mind if I step through?”

“By all means,” Severus offered as neutrally as he could.  “My house is always welcome to you.”  Whatever Lucius wanted, he would obtain it through one means or another.  In some respects, finding out now might be useful later, when it would otherwise be too late to act upon.  

Lucius disappeared from the fire briefly, and then it flared again. This time the man emerged and moved immediately to sit in the stiff wing-backed chair opposite Severus.  Without saying anything, his guest poured himself a snifter of fine Armagnac from the bottle Severus had been draining steadily over the past week.  The annoying display of relative power irritated Severus even more because the liquor was a rather expensive hors d'âge that was tedious to acquire.

Lucius swirled the liquor slowly, heating the liquid with his palm as he sampled the aroma.  “You always did have good taste in Muggle spirits, Severus.”

“Their variety of imagination is perhaps their only redeeming quality,” Severus replied.  “I should know, I've run across enough brats of the lot.”

“Ah, yes.  It's a pity that Dumbledore received a formal complaint about you.”  Lucius paused to sip the drink, one eyebrow arching in silent appreciation for the smoothness.  “By the time he came to the board with the evidence, there was little I could do to shield you.”

Severus said nothing, for there was nothing to say.  Lucius was a master of convenience and lies, hiding one hand with a trick of the other while verbally suggesting at least two other diversions to fully confound the actual issue.  In all likelihood, Potter's complaint had spurred the headmaster into action to protect an image that had to be cultivated for the battles ahead.  Severus had simply been a sacrifice required to keep the greatest number of pieces in play.  Most importantly, from Lucius' point of view, it would have cost more political capital to keep Severus in his job than the man could expect to reap from having Severus in his debt.  In matters of power, Severus was a tool to many and friend to none.

“I had hoped that by now you might have found employment elsewhere, Severus.”  

Lucius' gentle tone and kind words were the worst sort of slap to the face.  They were a signal that his guest was more than aware of the many rejected overtures that Severus had made.  He might even have had a hand in seeing to it that the inquiries met with no success.

“There are pros and cons to any situation, Lucius, as ever.”

Lucius smiled briefly, saluting Severus with the glass before enjoying the drink for a moment more.  “Yes, quite.  Oddly enough, I find myself in need of someone with your . . . skills, Severus.  I had thought we might reach an agreement of sorts.”

Severus smirked inside, knowing that Lucius was leading to the real reason for the visit.  After a few casual displays of power, he would make the offer that could not be refused.  Should Severus refuse, things would become more difficult for him.  Should he accept, old doors might reopen, while new doors would appear in time.

“That would depend on what you need, naturally,” Severus offered after a few moments to savour his own drink.  Courtship in any form required both sides to follow certain rules.

“Your potions knowledge, of course,” Lucius said with a faintly condescending smile.  “And later, your teaching for a select few students who need to learn . . . more challenging material, shall we say.”

Severus could anticipate many potential candidates for 'tutoring,' but he was very curious about the need for potions that could not be obtained through other means.  Normally, he would take that sort of information to Albus, but all things considered, he could make that decision at a later date.  For now, Lucius offered employment, and all of his projects were always mentally challenging in some form.  

“I believe we can work something out.  Shall I drop by tomorrow morning?”

“That would be sufficient, Severus.” Lucius smiled in a more genuine manner, the first real smile Severus could recall seeing from the man in years. “I did want to share a bit of information, though.  I’ve recently heard rumours that Harry Potter is married.”

“Really?” Severus said nothing for a moment, swirling his liquor and letting Lucius’ intense focus pass by in silence.  He was not about to imply any knowledge of the topic at all.  “I believe that neither the Headmaster nor the staff would know about that.  It probably can’t be confirmed, either.”

“Oh?”

“To the best of my knowledge, Lucius, contracts aren’t posted at the Ministry until all parties are of age.  Perhaps that boy would reveal otherwise, but could you trust his word?  He is a Potter.”

“True, I suppose.”  Downing the remainder of his drink, Lucius nodded once sharply.  “I shall nevertheless endeavour to find out.  I look forward to seeing you soon.”

Lucius deposited the empty glass upon the small table and then rose in a graceful motion.  He swept his robe behind himself with his free hand as he moved to stand before the fireplace.  While reaching for the jar of floo powder, he paused and turned back to Severus.  

Given what he asked, Severus was surprised at the mildness of his tone.  “Before I go, however, I wondered if you might know why my son is being referred to as a toadstool?”