HP and the Price, part 10 (Patreon)

“You ready?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. She wasn’t ready, but if the Fae had sent them a dragon, and she had to assume that meant they needed to work with the dragon. Her terror had no place in that calculation. She was a Gryffindor. She knew how to put her fears aside and do whatever was necessary. She had landed here because she was willing to steal a horcrux from Voldemort, so she could face a dragon.

Probably. Hopefully.

“She’s going to throw up,” Dinae said with a touch of malice.

“I am not,” Hermione said as they gathered at the bottom of the staircase.

“Ignore her,” Neville said. “And keep in mind that Norbert can understand English, so don’t insult her.”

“No, I won’t. During our third year, Draco insulted a hippogriff and then acted like an utter prat when Buckbeak snapped at him. I would never insult a magical creature. And if I did do something that stupid, I wouldn’t blame the animal. Draco tried to have the hippogriff executed because he had to whine about a little scratch.” Hermione took a deep breath. If Norbert took offense to something Hermione said, she would get more than a scratch.

Thea gave her a searching look. “I am not a fan of Draco Malfoy’s. In fact, he was the biggest reason why I was contemplating suicide. But if he was injured by a hippogriff, that had to be horribly painful.”

Sometimes Hermione had trouble believing Thea had been a Slytherin, and other times… well, this was one of those other times. “Quiddich players had bones get broken in a dozen places, and they were at dinner in the Great Hall two days later. Draco whined for weeks and made me and Ron dice his potions ingredients for him because he was suffering.” She rolled her eyes at the memory of his dramatics. “He was an utter git.”

Thea moved to subtly block the entrance to the stairs. “You can’t compare a Quiddich injury to a hippogriff.”

“Yeah, because the Quiddich injuries at that school were worse. Everyone said there were cushioning charms on the field, but I was constantly amazed that no one died during those games. Well, at least until the Hufflepuff/Gryffindor game during my third year. That was ugly.” Hermione shivered as she remembered the horror that had been young Tom Riddle’s campaign of terror against Hogwarts. The rest of the wizarding community had been saved by the fact that he had been too young to learn to apparate before putting his consciousness into that diary, but the school had suffered for his inability to travel. But no one outside the school had put in the effort to stop him until he had targeted purebloods. Maybe Dark magic wasn’t evil, but a lot of the purebred families were.

Case in point—some of the Slytherins had been entirely too quick to throw their support behind the supposed heir of Slytherin.

“Hermione,” Thea said softly, “a hippogriff is a magical creature, so any wounds would have resisted magical healing. Even if Madam Pomfrey could get the skin to knit together, the nerves and muscles would have remained damaged.”

“Really?” Neville asked.

Thea nodded. “A big part of the Nott wealth comes from bicorn and streeler farms. They’re both valuable for potions ingredients, but my father explained that injuries caused by magical animals are resistant to magical healing. He made sure I always had older tenders to protect me if I went near the animals. So if Malfoy was injured…” Thea paused. “Malfoy had probably never felt pain that couldn’t be immediately soothed with a potion.”

“That makes sense,” Neville said. “If you hear the cry of a young mandrake, you’ll be knocked unconscious for several hours and rennervate won’t wake you up. Magical plants and poisons are much more resistant to potions and spells than their muggle counterparts.”

“I bet that’s why Severus always keeps a bezoar around when we’re working with anything poisonous.” Dinae hung on the railing with a bored expression.

“It’s easier to absorb the poison than counteract it,” Neville said. “I remember Draco, so I have trouble feeling much sympathy, but I imagine it was hard for him to suffer when his parents had always sheltered him. I never understood that. I thought Slytherins believed in strength and self-reliance.”

Thea shrugged. “I think the Malfoys planned to rule the world, so I don’t think they expected Draco to need those skills,” Thea said, but her tone made it clear she didn’t approve.

Hermione frowned as she thought back to those days when Draco had swanned around the potions room with his arm in a sling. He hadn’t appeared to be in any pain. If anything, he had made a production out of milking the injury for all it was worth. “Maybe,” she said. “Can we get the dragon introductions out of the way before I lose my nerve?”

Dinae snorted. “I thought Gryffindors were reckless, impulsive, and too stupid to lose their nerve.”

“Excuse me,” Hermione demanded, but Dinae vaulted over the railing and landed on the spiral staircase, which promptly whisked her up and out of sight. Hermione might understand Dinae better now, but she was still a rude brat.

“Let’s go see Norbert,” Neville said, and he caught Hermione’s hand and pulled her onto the spiral staircase. The ceiling of the main hall was two or three stories tall, so Hermione had expected a dizzying trip, but by the time she reached the top, she was barely holding in her urge to vomit on the warm sands of the huge cavern where the staircase dumped them. Thea and Harry followed, but Hermione kept her eyes on the huge dragon that eyed her warily.

“Hermione, this is Norbert Hagrid Slashstrike,” Harry said. “Norbert, this is Hermione Jean Granger, the most recent person addition to Prince Keep. I’m a halfling through my mother, but Hermione is a full changling.” He finished his introductions and then stepped aside so Hermione was face to snout with a dragon. She had deep brown scales that had a greenish iridescence that caught the light when she moved and vivid green scales around her eyes. Terror rushed through Hermione’s body when Norbert took in a large breath and then snorted.

Norbert grumbled, and Harry laughed. “You are impressive. You can’t be surprised she’s scared. Most reasonable people would be scared of you.”

Dinae hurried forward and started scratching Norbert’s nose. “It’s so unfair that you and Neville understand draconish. I would give anything to understand Norbert. She’s so amazing.” Dinae rested her cheek against Norbert’s muzzle near a line of black ridges that went up the center.

“We all have our talents, and herbology and languages are mine. You are the best in the group at charms, and you’re the fastest.”

“Yeah, but you’re the best at shields, too. If you do three awesome things, I should get a third, too.”

“I have a feeling Severus would tell you to work hard and develop a third talent,” Harry said with a laugh. “Besides, I only have to special skills, too. And of my two skills, I didn’t even get the full language upgrade. I just talk to certain animals.”

“What? More animals than snakes and dragons?” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. “I’m the only one who has aviltongue. Birds.”

Norbert grumbled something.

“Of course draconish is more valuable. I’m sure that’s why both Neville and I developed that skill. Birds are so unbearably common.” Harry scratched Norbert’s nose.

“No one would call Norbert common,” Hermione said. Norbert tilted her head so one of her eyes was focused on Hermione. “You are stunningly beautiful. I didn’t think I would ever get to stand this close to a dragon, and it’s hard to focus on your beauty when all I can think about is how venomous your teeth are and how quickly I would die if you even scratched me with one. Not that you would need to scratch me because Norwegian Ridgebacks have the hottest fire of any dragon species. Some people think Hungarian Horntails are the most dangerous dragons because they’re quicker to attack, but the Norwegian’s fire is almost thirty percent hotter. It rivals fiendfyre in its destructive power. It can turn bone to ash, although I don’t know why you’d want to because that would make it hard to eat your prey. Oh Merlin. I should stop talking now.” Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth.

Twin lines of smoke trailed up from Norbert’s nostrils as she grumbled something in draconish.

“Really?” Harry asked with obvious glee. Neville looked equally excited.

“Is she in a mood to give us a ride?” Dinae demanded as she looked from one to the other. Harry nodded.

“A ride?” Hermione’s heart got lodged somewhere around the base of her throat.

Thea leaned close. “Please tell me you excel in sticking and warming charms,” she whispered.

“Of course I do,” Hermione said, offended that Thea would even ask her about such basic skills. Hermione watched as Dinae climbed up Norbert’s shoulder. There was no saddle. There were no straps. They were going to ride a dragon through the constant ice storms that surrounded this place, and only a sticking charm would stand between her and her death.

“Oh Merlin.”

“He’s not here to help you,” Thea said. “Are you sure you have that much faith in your charm work?”

Hermione straightened her shoulders. “I excel in I charms.” She shot Thea a smile. “I am a changling and naturally brilliant.” When Hermione was younger, her parents had taught her to avoid coming across as arrogant, and her experiences at Hogwarts had reinforced that lesson.

However, Prince Keep was different. Here everyone laid claim to their powers openly. Hermione held her breath to see how Thea would take her proclamation. Thea was the first female friend Hermione had ever had. She had liked Ginny before she’d died in the Chamber of Secrets, but Ginny had always been withdrawn and fragile, and fragile personalities did not do well around Hermione. Luna was the same. They liked each other, but being in the same space wasn’t comfortable. It was different with Thea. Hermione wanted Thea to like her.

Thea flashed her a bright grin that made Thea even more beautiful. “Then let’s test your charms with a tour of the neighborhood on dragon back. Oh, and don’t mention this to Severus. He knows we go out, but he says we’re going to give him gray hair or make his heart stop working.” Thea rolled her eyes. “He’s so dramatic.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Severus had several books on transfiguration open so he could check Harry’s latest essay. Harry and Dinae were doing such advanced work that Severus could no longer teach them from his own magical knowledge. The situation was aggravated by the fact that some of these books had magical theories and practices that Severus was almost certain didn’t exist in the British education system. Of course, he was not an expert in areas such as transfiguration or arithmancy, but he thought he remembered the most significant tenants from his days of studying for his NEWTS. After all, he had tutored most subjects to the less talented Slytherin in order to earn money for his potions ingredients.

However, the books in Prince keep offered fascinating new insights—or perhaps old insights that had vanished due to time and the Light’s efforts to eradicate anything dangerous. Either way, the children’s education now required him to learn with them. Unfortunately, he was not changing as much as the children. Soon he would have to step back and allow them to explore magic without him as their guide in any subject but potions.

Perhaps Severus’s connection to the Fae was too distant. The Prince family had never been particularly devoted to the old ways or powerful, and Tobias Snape’s blood could have compounded the problem. The man was the antithesis of the Fae, and Severus knew he had too much of his father in him. They both held grudges too long and for too little reason, and both of them took too much joy in degrading others. Severus had worked hard to overcome that flaw, but that sort of selfishness could still be partially blocking his ability to absorb the magic of the keep.

It was also possible that Severus was too old to adapt to Fae magic as easily as the children. Thea and Neville were progressing well, but they would never catch up to his first two children who had come here when they were still so very young. At this point, Harry was working on the equivalent of a mastery in both potions and defense against dark arts and Dinae was at the same level with her charms. Both could have earned an O in their NEWTS for transfiguration, arithmancy, wand lore, ancient runes, spell crafting, alchemy, and herbology a year or two ago.

Severus was starting to feel superfluous. No doubt the Fae’s refusal to train him to fight exacerbated his feelings.

Magic flashed through the keep, and Severus had his wand out and raced for the great hall. Harry and Thea reached it at the same time, moving together to cover each other as they came through the door to the greenhouse. A pale young witch in a fashionable cape crouched over her companion with her wand held up defensively. The wizard she was trying to defend thrashed on the floor and begged for water in a pitiful voice. Severus’s one Fae-given gift of mage sight showed that his magical core was fading

“We’re here to help. We can help you,” Harry said, and at the same time, Thea threw a disarming spell that made the witch’s wand fly up into the air and land at Thea’s feet.

“What poison did this?” Severus asked as he hurried into the room. He didn’t wait for an answer. They had to get some potions into the boy if he was to survive the hour. “Harry, antidote to endless thirst and a crucio recovery draught. Thea—”

“Bezoar, I know.” They both rushed from the room. Dinae and Neville stood to one side, but the second Hermione came into the room—wand at the ready—she hurried toward them. “Fleur! What happened?”

“‘ermione! You’re alive. We were told the curse of the Gaunt killed you!”

“A curse will kill this young man if you do not focus,” Severus snapped. Dunderheads. Young people were all dunderheads… with the exception of the ones he had raised, of course.

Fleur’s pale gray eyes focused on him immediately.

“What happened to him?” Severus demanded. Thea dropped to her knees at Severus’s side and pushed a bezoar into his hand. Severus eyed the young man’s desperate thrashing and chose to magically transport the stone into the boy’s stomach. The chance of choking was too great otherwise, and unlike potions which depended on having the greatest contact with human tissue, a bezoar could do it’s work without coating the esophagus.

“He drank a potion.”

“Obviously. Where? Under what conditions? What did the poison look like? Smell like? Do you know any ingredients?”

“Oh Merlin, is that Cedric?” Hermione asked, as if the boy’s name had any relevance to the current situation.

“Answer my questions, child!” Severus bellowed. Hermione and Fleur both flinched, but the boy on the ground was too distracted with his own pain to notice. He didn’t even notice when Harry tilted his head back and poured the endless thirst antidote down his throat.

Fleur gave them a quick description of the poison, the cave, the infiri, and the refilling cup. Severus realized too quickly that he was dealing with one of his own potions. He had made this elixir for the False Lord when Voldemort had wanted to protect something precious. At the time, Severus had felt only pride in having his Lord turn to him for solutions. He’d been the biggest dunderhead of all given that he had never asked what was to be protected or who was at risk. Back then, Severus had not cared. As long as the False Lord had praised him, he had disregarded the danger to the rest of the world.

But luckily, he had been paranoid enough to not only brew an antidote but to place it in stasis. After so many years, it had likely lost much of its efficacy, but hopefully it would be enough to save the boy’s life.

“Get him to drink the crucio recovery draught,” Severus said before he hurried to the potions lab where he had his personal projects in the farthest corner. Severus removed the precious vial from stasis and hurried back out. “I shall have to brew more in case this has degraded too much to be a permanent solution, but it should stabilize him until I can make a fresh batch.” Severus handed the vial over to Harry who had the Cedric boy’s head in his lap. The moment Cedric drank, his thrashing quieted, although he did softly cry as Fleur brushed his hair back from his face.

“Cedric Diggory, you do not have permission to die on me,” Fleur said as she stroked his hair. Between her thick accent and the quiet sobs that slipped out every other word, she was difficult to even understand, but the boy’s hand came up to grip hers.

“Where?” His voice was raspy and his muscles still twitched.

“A Fae stronghold. Is all I know,” she looked toward Hermione, likely expecting answers, but Severus had found the witch was far better at asking questions than answering them.

“How did you know this place was Fae?” Hermione demanded. So predictable.

“I am quarter Veela. We have our own sacred covenants with the Fae. I know their magic.”

Severus stood. “I shall leave Ms. Granger and the others to catch you up. I need to brew a fresh batch of antidote in case the vial I gave you proves inadequate to the task in the long run.” Severus made eye contact with Harry, and he gave a subtle nod. He would collect any information these newcomers offered and bring it to him. Severus had found that his own reputation as the greatest of the False Lord’s followers and the first among Death Eaters made it difficult for others to trust him.

Severus had to trust his children to take the lead on this. As the children grew up, he would have to do that more and more, even if Severus absolutely hated the idea.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After hearing the entire story, Harry looked at the locket sitting in the middle of the table. Fleur had handled the item like it was a horcrux. She’d taken it from a curse box that hung from her belt. However, Harry knew what those felt like, and this thing had no magic to it at all. “It’s not a horcrux.”

“Of course it is,” Cedric Diggory said. His hand shook where it rested on the table, and he had drunk four glasses of water. Harry hoped Severus finished a fresh caldron of antidote soon.

“I don’t care if it’s a horcrux or not,” Hermione said sharply, “I’m just horrified that you drank poison to retrieve it from the cup!”

“Hey, I’m the Triwizarding champion—the Hufflepuff hero—I couldn’t stand back while certain underage witches risked their lives trying to retrieve horcruxes. The Weasleys were heartbroken when you vanished. Bill blames himself.” Cedric reached across and rested his hand on Hermione’s. Harry didn’t understand the relationships here, but maybe that was because he had lived essentially his whole life in the keep. But from reading books, he was almost sure that a man shouldn’t hold hands with one girl while having another girl looking at him like he hung the moon in the sky.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “That’s stupid. Bill warned me before the curse even went off. He should know that something other than one of the False Lord’s curses caught me.”

Cedric pursed his lips. “He did say there was a strange surge of magic, but he couldn’t tell if it was your own innate magic trying to shield you from a massive curse or a secondary curse hidden by the first. But you have to tell him you’re safe… him and the twins. And Dumbledore, of course.”

Harry watched Hermione carefully. She had been part of Dumbledore’s schemes, and he didn’t know how much faith she still put in the manipulative old man. Neville had slid far enough into her mind to know that she wasn’t faking her change of heart about wild magic not being evil, but she had natural mental shields he hadn’t wanted to challenge, so he hadn’t explored her loyalty farther than that.

“I wish,” Hermione said sadly. “Prince Keep doesn’t have a way out except for shimmering, and even then, the others will only do that with express permission.”

Harry exchanged a quick glance with Thea. He hadn’t thought she knew they could shimmer out of the keep. Every time he thought he had a handle on Hermione, he discovered that he had underestimated her again. He knew that Severus was still furious about Dumbledore sending an underaged witch out to find horcruxes, but in the case of Hermione, that might have been justified. She was one resourceful witch.

“What is it, this shimmering?” Fleur asked.

Hermione looked at him, so Harry explained. “The Fae taught a couple of us to do it. It’s like you unfocus your mind and then step to the side and slip between the particles of the air. I wish I could explain it, but it’s just as if you let the world shimmer and glow and then you focus yourself on being somewhere else.”

Fleur sucked in a quick breath. “You walk the path? The Fae path? They say that the Fae can pull you into their world forever if you step foot on the path.”

“Probably,” Harry agreed. “But the Fae have protected us so far, so I’m not worried.”

Fleur shook her head. “No. You do not understand. The Fae do not offer to help others. No. This is not their way. If they tempt you onto the path, they hope they can trap you. Their curiosity know no end and they seek to see the world through our eyes. They are powerful. Admirable. But one must never trust them. No. Never,” she finished firmly.

Cedric reached out and caught Fleur’s hand in his. “Let’s not upset our hosts,” he said quietly. “Besides, I want to know why you’re so sure that this locket isn’t a horcrux.” He focused on Harry.

“I can feel horcruxes. After the Fae brought Hermione here, they sent me a vision of the Gaunt ring she was trying to reach when the curse nearly killed her. We got the ring and destroyed it.” Or at least they had destroyed the curse and horcrux attached to it. Harry had become strangely fond of the black ring, and it was sitting in his bedroom on the shelf beside his bed.

“You know how to destroy a horcrux?” Cedric asked, clearly shocked.

“Sustained flame from a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon does the trick,” Harry said. Cedric’s mouth dropped open, and Fleur’s hands fluttered around her neck as if she was on the verge of clutching some invisible necklace. “It’s not all that hard, but since that locket isn’t a horcrux, it’s a moot point.” Harry reached out and snagged the locket. Cedric cried out, his hands held out as if trying to ward off evil, but Harry clicked the locket open and pulled out a small bit of parchment. He read out loud.

"To the Dark Lord

I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.

R.A.B."

Everyone around the kitchen counter blinked at him. “Who is R.A.B?” Thea asked.

“Good question,” Dinae said. “Anyone have a guess?”

Cedric pressed his knuckles against his forehead like he had a headache. He probably did, and Harry suspected this hadn’t make it feel any better.

“Do you mean, we risked life and limb and the death by a horde of inferi for a false horcrux?” Fleur demanded. Her hair started to stir as wild magic gathered around her.

“I don’t think it was a false horcrux as much as someone else got there first.” Thea pulled the parchment closer to her. “Someone the False Lord knew,” she said. “Someone who died believing that the False Lord had created only one horcrux and that if he destroyed it, the rest of the us could kill the bastard.”

“I bet it’s from the first war,” Dinae said. “This time around, the fighting hasn’t been in public yet, so none of the dunderhead patrol would know to jump ship and turn on the False Lord. They don’t know how bad it’s going to get.”

“Some of them do,” Thea said softly.

Dinae scoffed. “Yeah, but those are the idiots who already stuck by the False Lord the first time around. So, who was on the False Lord’s side with the initials R.A.B.?”

Harry rested his hand on his chin. “Severus said the Death Eaters weren’t allowed to get to know each other. Lucius Malfoy only started to break that rule once the False Lord vanished, so if this guy was dead before Voldemort disappeared, we would never know his name.”

Cedric looked up. “I can’t believe we’re taking Severus Snape’s word for anything.”

Harry ignored the complaint. After all, the wizarding world had the wrong idea about Severus. Hell, most of the time, Harry was fairly sure Severus had the wrong idea about Severus. Sure, he was short tempered and had a vicious repertoire of insults. And if he’d taught long enough, he might have turned deeply, deeply bitter. But under all that, he had loyalty in spades. He teased Harry about being too Hufflepuff, but Severus had pledged his magic to protect Lily Evans’ child because he had never let go of his love for her. Neville talked about how the Sorting Hat had given him a choice between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and he’d chosen the former because he wanted to make his grandmother proud, but Harry was pretty sure Severus had been given a choice of Hufflepuff or Slytherin. True, he was a twisted sort of Hufflepuff, but all of them had emotional issues. Even Hermione.

“Wait.” Cedric focused on Harry. “How could you tell that wasn’t an authentic horcrux? Do you have mage sight?”

“No, Severus does, but the horcruxes don’t have a particularly strong aura for him to see. I just feel the magic more strongly than others. I guess that’s just part and parcel with being Harry Potter.” Harry grimaced. Fate had dealt him a terrible hand.

“What? You…” Fleur started to breathe more heavily and she stared at Cedric with horror. Cedric, on the other hand, had gone utterly blank. Harry was absolutely atrocious at most mind arts, but even he could feel the ocumency shields snap into place.

“Harry Potter?” Cedric’s voice was slow and measured. “Son of James and Lily Potter? The Boy Who Once Survived?”

“Yes,” Harry said. He knew they’d all been distracted by Cedric’s earlier near-death and had skipped introductions, but this was odd, and Harry had grown used to some fairly strong reactions to his name.

“It cannot be.” Fleur’s voice was heavily accented before she began muttering in French.

Thea shifted to move closer, and Harry appreciated the support. He felt more centered when Thea was there. Even more so than when Neville or Dinae was at his side. It had nothing to do with their relative skills or talents. Thea just calmed him. And with two strangers in his house, Harry felt like he needed that. However, right now, he also needed Neville’s talents.

He glanced over and Neville gave an almost invisible nod. Scooting his chair closer, Neville put a hand on Fleur’s arm. “It’s a shock. I know. Of course, when I first arrived, I was more focused on Severus. I thought I was going to be tortured to the point of insanity and then killed. I didn’t think I was going to be tutored until I could brew a potion without melting the caldron, although to be fair, I’m still not great. But reality and assumptions are very different. Get to know Severus and Harry as people. They’re both pretty great. I would call Harry my best friend.

Fleur looked even more horrified.

“I don’t feel well,” Cedric said. “Is there somewhere I can lay down? And maybe a bathroom? I’ve drunk far too much water.”

Hermione stood. “Of course. I bet the Fae put your rooms somewhere near mine. Come on, I’ll show you the shortcut through the greenhouse and then we’ll find you two some beds.” She gave Harry a concerned look before she ushered them out.

Dinae, Neville, and Thea slid closer to Harry and waited for enough time to pass for the others to be on the opposite side of the great hall. Then Neville whispered, “Dumbledore told them that Severus had done their side a favor when he killed you. Your scar has a horcrux in it, so you’ll have to die before Voldemort can be guaranteed a final death.”

Harry’s first thought was that it made sense. Voldemort’s soul had been so fractured that Harry wasn’t surprised that a sliver had lodged in the wound made by the killing curse. It explained his visions. The Fae could not pull magic out of a muggle stone, and they couldn’t give him a magical talent unrelated to his innate abilities, which explained why he couldn’t do legilimency and why Neville couldn’t brew complex potions.

His second was that Dumbledore had known. Dumbledore had fucking known he had a bit of Voldemort in him and had sent Harry off to an abusive muggle home instead of calling in a team of curse breakers. What game was that manipulative old goat playing?

• - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“If this works, we should get a clue as to the identity of R.A.B.,” Severus said as he attached the curse-proof bag to his belt. If the author of the note had been someone in the False Lord’s service during the first war, the magic would be faint, but Severus had mage sight and an excellent memory for magical signatures. And given that he had gone to school with many of the False Lord’s followers, he had a chance of deducing the identity of their mystery author if he could only visit the cave.

Fleur gave him an incredulous look. “You believe the Fae will transport you to a place of your choosing because you ask.” Her tone made it clear that she had decided he was an imbecile, which annoyed Severus even more than having people assume he was a murderous Death Eater. At least that had been true in the past.

He looked down his nose at the slip of a girl. “I belong to the Fae, so if it is in their interest to destroy horcruxes, then they will assist.” Severus wished he had decided to wait until the Fae had arrived for training rather than trying to summon one, but his concern was that the Fae who trained the children to fight was not the same individual who had first escorted him to the keep.

Severus dropped herbs into the sacred fire and knelt on the circular bench that surrounded it. “I ask for assistance to reach the cave where you found the two humans. The cave where the poison chalice sits. The cave with the inferi. I need to use the mage sight you have gifted me to find the real horcrux.”

“No apparation point,” Dinae called out, which was not improving his concentration. Someone hushed her. Fleur muttered in French, which was equally distracting. But then magic glimmered and a Fae stood in the room, their head cocked to one side as they studied Severus.

Severus climbed off the bench and bowed. “My Lord. Would you be willing to transport me to the place of the false horcrux?”

The Fae ignored Severus and moved to Harry. A huge three-fingered hand rested on Harry’s cheek for a moment and then Harry nodded. “Got it.” He turned to the others who could shimmer—Dinae, Thea and Neville. “Check my mind for our destination.” He turned to each of the children in turn. That gave Severus time to study their newest guests. Fleur’s mouth hung open, and Cedric had taken several steps back and stared at the Fae with huge, fearful eyes. At least the lad had some sense.

The Fae then moved to Hermione and repeated the gesture. When they dropped their hand, Hermione also nodded. “I’ll explain it to them.” She glanced at Fleur and Cedric. That was curious. Severus would like to probe the meaning behind that cryptic comment, but the Fae held out their hand, and Severus took it.

The world shimmered around them, and then they were in a dark cave. Light reflected off pale water and death magic hung like a cloud. Fae magic might not be evil, but death magic had a stench, a thickness that made Severus’s skin crawl. He would be hard pressed to identify any magic under such a miasma of suffering. But he had to try.

He moved to the plinth that held the cup and studied the weak threads of magic he could see under the fog. Cedric’s magic was strongest here. He had cast an impressive compulsion, perhaps on himself. Odd. Fleur’s magic carried notes of healing. All the other threads were old and fraying.

“Okay, that’s not good,” Harry whispered in a horrified voice. Severus turned to see the inferius climbing out of the lake. “I thought they stayed in the water.”

“Apparently not,” Severus said. He glanced at the Fae, but they seemed uninterested in getting involved. “Fire spells are best. Neville, a shield, please.” Severus tried to keep his voice calm, but masses of dead bodies were crawling out of the water toward them.

“I can do fire. Neville? Shield?”

“On it.” Neville raised his sword and then his wand, and two shields glimmered around them, solid and golden. The temperature even seemed to rise and Neville’s protective instincts overpowered the death magic.

“Fiendfyre?” Thea asked.

Severus drew his own wand, as inadequate as it was. “Absolutely not. That will tire you too quickly and too many of the dead are still protected under the water.” He aimed a blasting curse at the center of the closest Inferius and the creature’s chest was blown apart; however, hundreds took that individual’s place. “We need to hold them off until most are out of the water.” Between one blink and the next, the Fae vanished.

“I can do that.” Dinae cast a killing curse and other than giving the cave an odd green glow, it did nothing.

“They’re already dead, brat.”

“I was hoping that would make them unmoving dead,” Dinae said, but she switched to cutting and blasting curses, reducing inferi into small, quivering chunks that bled death magics until they stilled. Harry added his own blasting curses that shook the very cave and Thea danced around them, casting cutting charms that removed the legs of hundreds of inferi that tried to overpower Neville’s shields. Neville was sweating, but his had a good stance, and his core held under the pressure of holding up two such powerful shields.

Severus put a hand on Neville’s shoulder, lending his magic to Neville. Since he didn’t have a Fae wand, it was the most logical use of his considering power, but it rankled to let the other children fight while he could not. The battle raged chaos until Severus could only see a solid mass of white, dead bodies pressing against Neville’s shield. Neville’s core now shuddered, and Severus lent all his power to Neville.

“Now, Thea!” he called. Fiendfyre erupted from her wand, and Harry moved to her side, flinging curses with abandon.

“Hotter would be better,” Dinae called. Severus turned to see her cutting off arms that pushed through Neville’s shield.

“Harry, to Dinae,” Severus yelled. He threw more power into Neville, pushing his own core to the edge of exhaustion. However, they only had to hold until the fiendfyre had eliminated the enemy. Harry came around and threw blasting curse after blasting curse until the inside of Neville’s shield was covered in Inferi pieces and Dinae was safe.

“Fall back,” Harry ordered Dinea. For a second, she looked stubborn, but then she retreated to Neville’s side, her hands on her knees as she bent over and gasped for air. Severus watched as her magical core flashed and shuddered before stabilizing. Outside the shield, fiery lions and bears devoured the Inferi, and Neville went to one knee. Despite that, he kept his sword and wand up.

Harry rested his hand on Neville’s shoulder, and Neville’s core soaked up the additional power, enough to make the shield glow gold for a moment. And then Thea called back her fiendfyre, tucking all that rage and fear behind solid occumency shields. The cave was silent. The rotting and burned corpses of hundreds or thousands of bodies lay in a circle around them, with the center of the macabre scene bare rock.

A twinkle caught Severus’s attention, and he turned to the now-still lake. Another twinkle. Severus moved closer and studied the water. Those were magical cores. “There are individuals in the water.”

“Individual Inferius?” Harry asked, his wand coming back up.

“Individual wixen, but their magical cores are fading,” Severus said as he finally realized what he was looking at. “I’ll lift them to the surface, Dinae, pull them to shore.”

“Got it.” Dinae said. She’d had a few seconds to rest, and charms had always been her strongest subject.

Severus cast levicorpus and a heavy set man in the dusty green robes that had been so popular in the seventies rose into the air. The second Dinae’s magic caught the man, Severus moved on to the next magical spark. One by one he dragged more than two dozen people to the surface, but by the time he reached the last few, their magic vanished before Severus could get them to the air.

Severus closed his eyes, grieving for a moment for the lives had hadn’t saved, but then he turned to study the people who were now beginning to move. One of the children had shoved Inferi bodies aside so the people lay on gore streaked rock rather than the corpses of Voldemort’s victims, but people gasped and cried when they opened their eyes. Most leaped to their feet. Almost all of them reached for wands.

And the children retained their composure. Thea and Harry stood in front with Neville ready to raise a shield, and Dinae watching the rear and sides. Severus realized he did not have a position in this formation. At one point, he had been one of the most feared dueling masters in Great Britain, and now he could not compete with four children.

“What is this? What is going on? Do you have any idea who I am?” A heavyset man in lavender robes demanded. Apparently, this was to be a diplomatic encounter rather than a conflict. Since Severus did not trust the children to handle the situation, he moved to stand between Harry and Thea.

“I’m afraid that I do not,” Severus said. The Fae had not reappeared, and the children would not leave him behind, so clearly there was some task left to complete. Severus often wished he could communicate with the Fae as easily as Harry did, but that was not his fate.

The man blinked at him several times. “I am Deputy Minister Vilince Hambold, second to Minister Iswatch.”

Severus knew that name. Bagnold had taken over for Iswatch after his fall from grace due to Hambold’s disappearance. Many felt that the deputy minister had been the power behind Iswatch for most of his career, so when he had vanished in the mid-seventies, the minister lost all support. Severus could not imagine why Voldemort had imprisoned the official. Perhaps ransom, although if that were the case, he should have traded the man for whatever boon he wanted.

“What? You disappeared three years ago,” a woman said, her voice sharp. “I assisted the Aurors in searching for you by going through muggle records to see if He Who Must Not Be Named had moved you into a muggle area or prison.”

Severus raised his eyebrows, equally unsure how this woman fit into Voldemort’s plans.

“Miliventi Hash?” a surprised voice asked. “By Merlin, I would recognize you anywhere, although you’ve aged. You vanished from your home years ago.” Hash. Severus knew that name as well. She had run the office for the removal of curses. Voldemort had ordered his followers to bring the woman to him because he had been furious at how quickly her department had undone his work at Diagon Alley.

An older woman with brilliant white hair hanging down to her waist turned to the speaker. “Years, dear? Did you say years?” Her voice rose in distress.

Severus cleared this throat. Either his demeanor or the large number of well-armed individuals surrounding him meant that all eyes were immediately on him. “I am afraid all of you have been held in some sort of stasis spell powered by the inferi themselves. When we killed the inferi, the spell must have failed.” Severus gestured to the charred and gruesome remains of Voldemort’s inferi army surrounding them.

Several people looked around, their eyes large.

“We were taken?” A younger man with wild hair swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I delegate paperwork for the Central Department. Are you saying He Who Must Not Be Named kidnapped a mid-level bureaucrat?”

“I assume,” Severus said. “We came to retrieve a dark artifact rumored to be hidden here, and we found both the Inferi army and you, hidden under the water.” Severus was starting to suspect that Voldemort had removed effective ministry officers rather than kill them. Most likely he had wanted workers for after he had taken over the government. It made sense to both cripple the current government and ensure that after all opposition was destroyed, he would have the infrastructure to run the government. And if Voldemort controlled the entire country, these people would have little choice but to work for him.

Severus focused on Deputy Minister Hambold since he was the highest ranking official. “Deputy Minister Hambold, may I introduce Lord Potter and Heir Black, Harry James Potter.” He began with Harry since he had accepted the Lordship ring. They had practiced for this. If these four were to become the foundation of a new party—a wild magic coalition that would take over the dark party—they had to know the right people. This was a political opportunity, although Severus was surprised the Fae had recognized it as such.

After slipping his wand into its holder, Harry stepped forward and bowed. “Well met, Deputy Minister Hambold. I am deeply sorry for the years you have lost imprisoned in this place. Your imprisonment is quite unforgivable.” Hopefully Hambold did not take offense to the fact that Harry had kept his blade unsheathed. A wizard would see that as the less dangerous weapon after all. Luckily, his gaze didn’t even twitch in the weapon’s direction as Hambold smiled.

Severus had explained that the first time they met an official or member of a noble house, they would have one chance to make a first impression. Harry’s genuine sympathy had clearly impressed Hambold who bowed in return. “Well met, Lord Potter. I am afraid my imprisonment has left me ignorant of current events, but are you related to Lord Fleamont Potter?”

Harry’s smile turned brittle. “My grandfather, sir. He succumbed to dragon pox and my father fell to the False Lord.”

“My condolences, young man. And my thanks for staging this rescue.” Hambold looked around, and the gathered officials all nodded, although most cringed at the sight of the stacked and severed bodies.

Severus moved turned toward Thea. “Deputy Minister, may I introduce Heir Nott, L’theamay Morgana Nott.” That caused a stir. In normal circumstances, Potter and Nott were not aligned families, but the way Thea and Harry moved in concert suggested a deep tie. Ministry officials would recognize that as easily as a titled lord.

Thea bowed. “Well met, Deputy Minister. I am grateful that Severus is gifted with mage sight to identify the place you were imprisoned and could provide assistance.”

That was quite the political statement. Vehemens Nott was well known for advocating no one’s position over his own. Even before Voldemort had fallen, he had acted more to advance his own position than to support his lord, and now his heir signaled that she rejected individualistic ambition in favor of her chosen group.

“Well met, Heir Nott. I too am grateful for his acumen. Would you introduce us?”

That was a minor breech of etiquette. Severus had no titles, and should have been introduced after the rest of the children, but Thea bowed and complied. “Deputy Minister Hambold, may I introduce Potion Master Severus Snape. He has raised us in isolation so he could instruct us on how to defend ourselves from the False Lord and then assist the monster to a final defeat.”

Hambold bowed lower than manners required. “Well met, Master Snape. I am impressed by your teaching,” Hambold said with some amusement as he looked around at the carnage that surrounded them.

Severus bowed in return. “You honor me sir. My instruction is only as effective as the students’ willingness to learn. I have been honored to teach them, although I have not been their only teacher.”

Hambold titled his head to acknowledge the statement, although his lack of a response meant he did not agree with part or whole. The next introduction was controversial. Carrow and Longbottom had equal authority in the Wizengamot, but they had agreed to place Carrow first only because the family embraced what others would call dark magic. They would not have others use the primacy of the Potter and Longbottom names to deny that they were dark aligned, even if they had a different definition of dark. “May I introduce Heir Carrow, Dinae Medusa Carrow,” Severus said with a gesture toward Dinae. He did a double take when he realized she had a chunk of Inferius in her hair. That was disturbingly appropriate.

If the Nott name created a stir, the Carrow name made most of the group shift uncomfortably. Dinae’s family did have a certain reputation, and given what they had done to her, it was one they had earned. However, Hambold was a practiced politician. “Well met, Heir Carrow.”

Dinae offered a perfect bow and the Inferius chunk fell to the ground with a wet thump that made more than one of the gathered group flinch. “Well met. I hope we have found strong allies to assist us in helping the False Lord to the defeat Thea mentioned.”

That was forward, and Severus contained an urge to wince. The child had very little subtlety, and asking individuals who had just been freed to pledge themselves to a cause was pushing past the bounds of polite conversation.

Hambold blinked, likely as caught off guard as Severus. “I could never stand as your equal on the battlefield, but I would be more than willing to lend my administrative skills to that admirable goal,” he said.

Dinae bowed a second time. “Then very well met, Deputy Minister.”

Severus hurried to the last introduction before she could do something more unforgivable. He was grateful they had not placed Dinae’s introduction last because it would be significantly harder to move onto more appropriate topics if that had been the final introduction. “May I introduce Heir Longbottom, Neville Harfang Longbottom.”

Neville bowed. “Well met. I know you have been imprisoned here, but I hope when you return you find your families well, and since we have also been isolated, I would caution you to move with care because we do not know where the False Lord or his allies might be placed.”

“Wise advice, Heir Longbottom.”

“I am just sorry we cannot be of more assistance,” Neville said. Severus did wonder how the boy had avoided being sorted into Hufflepuff.

Hambold laughed. “You defeated an army of inferi. I am eternally grateful for the help you provided. To ask for more feels unreasonable.” Hambold turned to Severus. “Four heirships and one lordship. You are tending an impressive flock, Master Snape.”

More than Hambold knew. Longbottom was also the heir to the Kadpul seat and Gringotts had revealed that Thea was heir to the long defunct Desperan title. Many of the ancient family lines had magical requirements, and Severus suspected that living on Fae territory had changed them enough that they could claim long lost titles. However, that was a secret they had agreed to keep, especially since they did not know how many other old lines the would inherit before they could take their seats in the Wizengamot.

“They are impressive in many ways,” Severus said. A noncommittal answer was all he would offer when he didn’t know these people.

“They are,” Hambold said. “And I feel better about our chances when I know such impressive young people are not only ready to fight on the battlefield but also in the halls of government. And with that, I must excuse myself. I have been gone a long time, and I need to find my family.”

Several others nodded. With a chorus of “Well met” and “You have my eternal gratitude,” the crowd left, apparating out with a cacophony of loud cracks. Most of the people had left when one man with black hair hanging in his face stepped closer.

He looked up and caught Severus’s gaze. “Sev?”

Severus’s knees almost buckled. “Reggie?”