The Chosen Few

- Chapter Six -

THE CHOSEN FEW

Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference.

WINSTON CHURCHILL

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Traditionally, Slytherin House was the smallest – in numbers – among the four Hogwarts Houses. If one looked at the statistics, the figures would say that in average, 50 out of 120 first years went to Hufflepuff, 35 made Ravenclaw, 20 were sorted to Gryffindor and no more than fifteen children received the green Slytherin emblem. Naturally, there would have been more sly than truly brave, or even erudite children, but only Slytherin made the extra request of a pure-blooded ancestry, meaning that, usually, at least all four grandparents were wizards and witches.

Curiously, the pedigrees of almost every Slytherin went back much further. Those families that set store on a pure bloodline took care that their offspring continued to stick to the tradition, so most students there hadn't got any Muggle ancestors since the eighteenth century, if that was enough. The Muggle ancestors of most dated back to even earlier times. Among those older families, the Malfoys were the purest dynasty by far, followed by the Rosiers, the Lestranges, the Mulcibers, Rookwoods, and last but not least, the Blacks, of course.

The latest offspring of the London branch of this family, which incidentally dated back to the Dark Ages, were the two sons of Orion Black and his wife Walburga, and the three daughters of Orion's older brother Cygnus and his wife Amandine. All five children recommended themselves by their great looks and apt skills, but otherwise they could hardly have been more different from one another, to a superficial observer.

The eldest and most trying to her parents' nerves was Bellatrix. She had been a handsome child, which had led her parents to spoil her to no end, and she had grown up to be a true beauty. She had sleek black hair and fiery black eyes, a determined chin and dramatic brows. More dramatic than her brow, however, was her character. Benevolent observers would say she was fierce, the rest of the world would call her foul-tempered. She was easily annoyed and highly irritable, completely lacked patience and self-control, and combined those shortcomings with an unsettling amount of talent for curses and nasty jinxes.

Her poor mother had stopped counting the owls sent home on her account, reporting incessant trespassing of every rule that had ever been laid down. Mr Black, who was a man of steady principles, had punished his child in every way he could think of, but the only result he had obtained was an ever-growing alienation between her and her parents. After her graduation from Hogwarts, she had assigned for Artemis College, taken a flat of her own, gotten married – all in six months – and only returned to her father's house on special occasions.

Not only had Bellatrix moved out at the earliest occasion, she had also married the first man of pure ancestry who'd worship her. This wasn't just a phrase; he did worship her and the ground she tread upon, reading every wish from her eyes, never disagreeing with her, never restricting her in any way, in short: a man nine years her elder who enabled her to follow each of her whims and caprices however and whenever she wanted.

Still, Rodolphus was too nice, in a manner of speaking, and sadly, not the sharpest tool in the shed. But Bellatrix was bright, extremely bright, and she admired talent when she found it in others. In combination with her long-standing interest in the Dark Arts, she quickly found the right place for sheer and heartfelt happiness – she and her husband joined the ranks of a certain warlock, who had returned to England after many years of travelling. This wizard styled himself 'Lord Voldemort', but his disciples did not pronounce his name, reverently calling him 'Master' or 'My Lord' instead. He had founded an Order in which the Dark Arts were practised, and from Bellatrix's point of view this meant: there were clear rules to follow and retribution when they were violated; there were demanding tasks and praise when she succeeded. She had found at last what she had been looking for.

The next sister, less dark and far more moderate, was Andromeda. She was a sweet girl in fact, not quite as accomplished as her sisters (which didn't say much), but making up by much more pleasant manners. She had not once given their parents a sleepless night, her marks were very good and so was her appearance, with her shiny auburn hair and light brown eyes, even features and slender figure. Later on, she would trouble her parents beyond words, but at that time, there was no indication whatsoever that she could ever fail in delighting her family.

The youngest girl was Narcissa. She was fair, the essence of a fair girl really, and although it seemed almost impossible, the most beautiful of them all. She was her parents' pride and joy, finally reconciling them to all the trouble they had had with Bellatrix. She could boast many talents of magical and other nature; she had a special gift for languages and music, for drawing and most of all, she was a great reader. At first, her proud parents were nothing but delighted by her quiet ways, but Narcissa was so quiet and reserved that their anxiety for her sake had grown with each year. It could not be healthy, it could not.

As a first measure, they had dragged her to every good family with daughters roughly the same age. They couldn't have done worse. The poor girl abhorred everything about that scheme: playing for the hosts, piano, flute, violin or harp, or if nothing else was available she was coerced to sing, delighting everyone older than thirty, disgusting anyone younger than that. After this, she was sent upstairs to accompany supremely belligerent children, sometimes boys who would pull her hair, but mostly girls who would scowl at her and mock her and make up rude insults.

Other remedies tried had included horseback riding – her dislike for horses had grown by the hour; sailing – which she had really enjoyed, but after a minor incident her father would not permit her closer to open water than fifty feet; and enrolling her in a choir – which had been so awful an afternoon that she had been sick on the next four dates, until her mother had showed some consideration and cancelled again.

But the very worst of all had yet been to come. Her eleventh birthday, and with it her Hogwarts letter. How she had begged her parents to let her stay at home! She had literally been on her knees, imploring them to go on like before, with some capable tutors... But she had shed all her tears in vain; as much as Mr Black doted upon his darling daughter, on this point he remained inexorable. Hogwarts it was, a dormitory with four other girls it was, classes with twenty to forty other students it was. Narcissa lacked an adequately profane vocabulary to describe the ghastliness of it all.

In Hogwarts, she also met with her cousin Sirius, three years her junior. He, too, was exceptionally good-looking and as smart as his older cousins promised. Unfortunately, he had got a share of Bellatrix's unstable temper and recklessness. He also had a ridiculously high opinion of himself, though this was a general family defect, and was too proud for his own good. Narcissa and Sirius couldn't stand the sight of each other; she avoided him if she could, he wouldn't stop taunting her whenever he got the opportunity. With Andromeda, he got along much better. She had a more sociable disposition, and her easy-going attitude impressed him enough to bridle himself.

Sirius was in many ways a blend of his cousins' tempers. Bellatrix's fire, Andromeda's easy-going attitude as far as his friends were concerned, Narcissa's cold contempt for those he detested. Although he was only a first year now, he was vastly popular among the members of his own house – the first Black in four centuries who hadn't been made a Slytherin, and to make it all worse for his mother, he had instead gone to Gryffindor... Walburga Black could have handled a Ravenclaw son, but Gryffindor she regarded as a bad omen. Her eldest son was obstinate enough as it was, and his new House couldn't but make it worse, she feared. This fact had toned down her former criticism of Amandine's daughters considerably. Nagging about Bellatrix when her own flesh and blood was going so much further astray – nah, not even Walburga was that much of a hypocrite.

The youngest of the lot was Sirius' brother Regulus. When the former rejected his cousin Narcissa, one could well state that he downright detested his little brother. He was their parents' favourite, being so much more gentle and obedient. Where Sirius was rebellious, Regulus was submissive, where Sirius would stamp his foot, Regulus would duck and cower. The softer Regulus was, the more Sirius despised him, and the more cruelly Sirius treated him, the more Regulus tried to please him. It was a vicious circle, and Orion and Walburga only made it worse by favouring Regulus so blatantly.

Sirius was ashamed of his own relations. Those cocky cows – always excepting Andromeda, who was pretty cool – and his brother sucking up to them still. All that ridiculous pureblood rubbish, the noble family, the sacred values, the wonderful Slytherin House! Idiots, all of them! On the other side, Narcissa wasn't exactly ashamed of her cousin – she'd rather be embarrassed by Regulus' dim wit – but she strongly disapproved of Sirius' complete lack of manners, the disparaging fashion in which he'd talk to his own parents even, let alone everyone else. She could only despise the way he'd jinx everyone whose nose he didn't like, and that he particularly enjoyed humiliating little Severus was unpardonable in her eyes. That little hypocrite! On the one hand, he'd nag and complain that his parents set great store by the purity of people's pedigree, on the other hand he tormented a kid as unfortunate as Severus!

This one was the most grateful object for attention one could possibly imagine. Poor kid. Literally. His parents had no money at all; apparently his father wasn't only a Muggle, but also a complete waste of time and space, a drunkard, unreliable, choleric and good-for-nothing. Narcissa would have pitied Severus' mother, but then again – why had she married this bloke? She had no one to blame for that but herself. The boy had been sent to school in hand-me-down robes, his shirts so grey that no magic could bleach them white again – Narcissa had given it quite a few tries, and she was usually very gifted with spells. His textbooks were so old and worn-down that they positively fell apart, mended by masses of spell-o-tape, just to rip on the next use.

She had written to her mother to send her some of her own old school books, which were much better-kept, but that had only worsened the boy's embarrassment, and Narcissa decided she wouldn't humble him again. Why had the Sorting Hat placed him in Slytherin, eh? To humiliate him in every possible way? Not only did he have that infamous Muggle parent, which would have been bad enough in the midst of all the pure-bloods here who looked down on him. Poverty was second only to a lack of pedigree in the eyes of most Slytherin students – even those families that had no money at all would go and pretend, rather taking up mortgages than sending their kids to school in second-hand robes. Clearly, Severus' mum hadn't thought of that, or her vile husband didn't allow her to equip their son properly.

His situation had slightly bettered since Lucius Malfoy had made it clear that nobody was to touch the kid. He couldn't force the boy's dorm-mates to truly respect him though, and Severus was too proud to be a telltale, so Lucius never got to hear of the majority of snide insults and jibes that the child had to endure from his peers. Lucius had indeed increased his efforts to befriend the boy and was more than pleased both with himself and his protégé. As it turned out, the boy was truly as apt with curses and hexes as any senior student, more than most in fact. He was intelligent and endlessly grateful for the great Mr Malfoy's attention. To be sure, he flattered Lucius' vanity well enough, and he had already found a possibility to assure the kid's genuine affection. The Quidditch team was wildly admired, and it was a long-standing tradition that each member of the House Team had a kind of personal assistant for all sorts of jobs, like taking care of the brooms, fetching books from the library, mending the Quidditch robes and so on.

The boy entrusted with the honour to do so for Lucius was one Delbert Harper, and he was doing his job just fine, additionally he came from a good family. There was no actual reason to dispose of him, so Lucius played a nasty trick on him at the cost of his own broom. What the heck, he had wanted to get the new Comet 250 anyway. Harper was chased out of his office, and Lucius gave the spare post straight to his new protégé.

Severus Snape was flabbergasted. He had spent his first months in Hogwarts like a Pariah, and all of a sudden, he had two great patrons?! The great Lucius Malfoy, unrivalled hero of Slytherin House, who had everything in abundance that Severus himself was so totally without, and the incomparable Miss Black, who was the most impressive witch in the entire school – in the entire universe, as far as Severus was concerned! He didn't know what he had done to deserve such luck.

Admittedly, he sometimes felt like a child of divorce, because his two great friends... Well. To stay in the imagery – Miss Black must have been the one to file for the divorce and wanted nothing to do with Mr Malfoy. He, on the other hand, was eager to hear every tiny detail about her, demanding absolute secrecy, and showering Severus with good will in return. He was only twelve years old, but he had some imagination, and it was rather easy to guess that Mr Malfoy had quite a crush on Miss Black. Still, this was none of Severus' business, and he wouldn't have gambled with his friends' benevolence for the world. 'Tua quod nihil refert, ne cures,' Miss Black used to say, and right she was, as always. This wasn't simply submission on Severus' part – Miss Black – erm, Narcissa was really always right. She knew everything, she had read everything, and her judgement turned out to be right every time, too. As far as the boy could see, her only error in judgement referred to Lucius Malfoy, who was so much nicer than she'd give him credit for.

Not only was Severus allowed to take care of Lucius Malfoy's things, next he was introduced to their Head of House's little club, to which only selected students were admitted. Mr Malfoy just took him along, and indeed, he was quite warmly welcomed by Professor Slughorn, although it was obvious that he would never have been invited if it hadn't been for the Professor's favourite student.

"Look what the cat's brought in. Snape!" The voice was familiar; Severus didn't need to turn around to know who had called out.

"Slowly, slowly, Mr Black," Professor Slughorn chuckled good-humouredly. "Mr Snape, let me begin by welcoming you and introduce you to your fellows."

He indicated at a number of students, mostly older Slytherins, like Narcissa Black's older sister, who was in the same year as Lucius Malfoy. There was yet another sister, who had already graduated from school. Severus had never met her, but he had heard a lot. She was a legend in Slytherin House; it was said that she was as fierce as a dragon on the war path. However, he knew that his Miss Black should be here as well, the Professor was very fond of her, but she flatly refused to go. "I spend too much time with people I don't like already," she used to say, "I have no desire to waste my free time on them as well."

"Please welcome Severus Snape. He's a good lad, Mr Malfoy's help and very deft in potion-making. Listen well, Miss Evans, you two could found a study group together!"

Lily Evans dutifully nodded, gave Severus a smile and he nodded back. She was the only person he had known when coming to school – the Evans' lived not too far away from Severus' own parents. She was very nice, she was... Well... He had hoped she'd be a Slytherin, too, a friend in this new environment, and even though he had known that it was highly unlikely, he had believed it possible. Lily Evans was a marvellous witch already in his eyes, and that was what Slytherin was all about, wasn't it? About greatness? About power? Or why else had he landed here, a son of a Muggle among all these purebloods?

He wondered if Mr Malfoy and Miss Black would approve of his Muggle-born Gryffindor friend. Surely they wouldn't. But one of the first principles young Severus had grasped in his short life so far was this – one needn't tell everything. Omitting truth wasn't the same as lying – he wouldn't dare to lie to his benevolent protectors. He was an appallingly bad liar anyhow. Instead, he simply wouldn't mention Lily. Senior students took scarce notice of first years anyhow, all the more when they came from other houses. And Severus didn't feel like – well – sharing – his friendship with Lily either.

"Sir, my sister wishes me to offer excuses on her behalf," Andromeda Black said now. "She is preparing for a test. Ancient Runes, I believe."

Slughorn chuckled again. "Yes, yes, Miss Black is a very avid student. Take an example from her, lads."

Some of them rolled their eyes, others forced themselves to smile, only Sirius Black would sneer and hiss, "Come on, Andy. You needn't lie for her. Dear Cissy's just too full of herself to come!"

Andromeda sharply replied, "Leave her alone, Sirius!"

"Andy –"

"You've heard me."

She received a well-meaning glance from Lucius Malfoy for her sister's defence, which she did not return. Yes, Severus thought to himself, Mr Malfoy did like Miss Black – the absent one – very much. Who could blame him?

Narcissa was fond of the child; he was a loner like herself and by far the cleverest wizard to walk around in this school. Strictly speaking, he was in no need for help with his homework either, but she wanted to do something for him and so they had started to do some extra work that was beyond his own level of classes. When she heard that Lucius Malfoy had dragged the poor boy to old Slughorn's club and how Sirius had behaved, she instantly decided that she'd for once accept the regular invitations and go, too. Severus needed a little backup – Malfoy wouldn't help him anyway. In all probability, he only took him there to humiliate the poor kid!

Said kid had taken the surprising news with much more dignity than her Head of House. And how lucky that she couldn't witness Lucius Malfoy's exuberant face when Severus mentioned it, or she might have lost the last scraps of respect she harboured for him.

Severus' impression of being a child of divorce would have deepened that evening, if it hadn't been for his enormous pride and the struggle not to let it show too clearly. He was on his way to his Head of House's club-evening for selected students. Was he on his own? No! Was he accompanied by one of his great friends? Nope! He was accompanied by both of them! Walking right between them! Ha! He would enter that office together with the two coolest people in the whole school; beat that, Black!

Lucius was similarly pleased. He couldn't remember when Narcissa Black had last permitted him so close. That she didn't give him a single smile was but a minor drawback. All in due time. She looked magnificent though, as always. And Severus was a bright kid who was also well-instructed. He'd know what to do.

Professor Slughorn expressed his delight when the royal couple entered his study, especially welcoming Miss Black and almost completely ignoring Severus, but Narcissa would not have it. She smiled sweetly, and answering the question what had made her change her mind and attend the meeting, she said with a honeyed voice, "Because of Severus here. He positively enthused on the previous gathering and swore that I just had to come, sir."

"Let me tell you how glad I am that you'd interrupt your studies for the sake of our little gathering, Miss Black."

"Not at all, Professor. You are welcome," Narcissa said, deliberately gracious.

Andromeda stifled a giggle and stuffed her mouth with a pastry instead. She also silenced her cousin who was about to open his mouth by urging him to take a piece as well, and munching, she murmured, "Bite your tongue, cos. Or the pastry if you've got to."

He obeyed in so far that he kept his voice low, "I get sick of that regal attitude! Who does she think she is!"

"My little sister, so shut up."

"And the other two jerks?"

"Malfoy certainly is a jerk, but why don't you just leave the kid alone? I don't get it!"

"Malfoy's lapdog? Two of a kind!"

In the meantime, Lucius, Narcissa and their charge had settled in some very comfortable armchairs and been equipped with drinks – Severus had done as Lucius had told him. Picking the most comfortable chair at first and then, when his two friends had taken their seats at his sides, he'd suddenly noticed that his own chair was much more comfortable than Miss Black's and urged her to trade places. Well done, kid!

Narcissa would have thought that Malfoy had contrived this little manoeuvre, had she believed Severus capable of such a scheme. Malfoy had this inner drive – nay, obsession – to make a pass at every girl coming his way. He had tried it with her, too, at the start of her second year, and as soon as she had consented to go to Hogsmeade with him – yes, she had been so incredibly naïve – he had pulled off the mask and shown his true face to render her the national laughing stock in front of all of his insipid mates. She didn't put it past him though that he'd make another attempt to test how silly she could be, and no, she wouldn't grant him another victory for his insatiable vanity.

Narcissa had been to only four or five of these meetings in the four years she was in Hogwarts, the last one more than a year ago, so she gazed around quite curiously now. Who were the rising stars of the wizarding community? Because Slughorn truly had an eye for this, she'd give him that. He recognised people who would make it far, be it for their talent, or other qualities likely to advance them.

Here were the members of her own family, invited because they were Blacks and thus prone to make it very far in life. The same was true for Lucius Malfoy and Frank Longbottom from Gryffindor, old blood, old money. Damocles Belby was the son of his father and a brilliant potioneer himself, Everett Bobbin from Ravenclaw would inherit the country's largest chain of apothecaries. Next to them, there was Bertram Higgs, recommending himself both by heritage and talent – the only thing he basically sucked at was Quidditch. Tallulah Tatting, a seventh year from Hufflepuff, was the startlingly pretty granddaughter of Macaulay Tatting, the current manager of Twilfitt and Tatting – oh, by the way, she had been going out for three weeks last year with Malfoy, too, of course. Who hadn't.

Those were the students she knew by sight and name – much more interesting were the others. The most eye-catching was a girl in robes bearing the Gryffindor crest. Judging from her height, she was a first year, and she was uncommonly cute. Her hair was a blend of mahogany and red, but more intriguing yet were her eyes – almond-shaped, impossibly green eyes. For a minute, Narcissa wondered whether the girl was here due to her blossoming beauty, or because of her talent. She forgot that Severus no longer sat next to her right side, slightly bowed over and whispered, "Who are the two girls, and the boy with the glasses?"

Lucius was surprised and elated to hear her addressing him, and most ready to reply in a low voice, "Gaspard Shingleton – Ravenclaw, talent for charms, Althea Penrose – Hufflepuff, niece of old Phoebus, and Lily Evans from Gryffindor, rising potions star."

She gave a start when realising who she was talking to, but what the heck. "Which one is the redhead?"

"Evans."

She nodded and went back to observe the unknown kids. Slughorn was relating some boring story, and she already regretted that she had come in the first place. So far, Sirius had behaved, but she didn't deceive herself whose merit this was. Maybe she should simply talk to Andy and ask her to ask Sirius to leave Severus alone in the future?

Her mind trailed off – she constructed potions in her head when she had nothing better to do, it was a good training for memory – when she was awoken again by a soft nudge from Malfoy. She realised that Slughorn seemed to be talking to her, and Malfoy muttered under his breath, "You – supervising – Potions Club –"

"Bugger," she whispered just as flatly, but smiled at their teacher.

"What do you say, Miss Black?"

"I don't think I'm the right person for this sort of thing, sir."

"Nonsense! You'd be perfect! You're an ace in potion-making, and our younger talents, like Severus and Lily here, could benefit greatly from your guide and experience!"

"Sir, I'm not made for guidance, I assure you."

"She's also very busy with her studies, Professor. Magnificence is hard to achieve," Malfoy butted in. She was almost grateful, especially when seeing Slughorn's now pensive face.

"Yes... I see, yes... Well, perhaps you will allow that occasionally, some younger student can ask you and Mr Belby here for help with their homework ...?"

"Certainly, sir," Narcissa said, and gave an inaudible sigh of relief. Nobody except Severus would dare to approach her.

The evening went along with useless chit-chat, although Narcissa did not mind it as badly as feared. Some of Slughorn's favourites were fairly smart after all, making sensible remarks, and even Lucius Malfoy wasn't exclusively the spoilt, silly brat that she had taken him for. Why would this guy waste his time with his moronic buddies and Quidditch if he was so clever? And eventually, she could also fulfil the purpose for which she had come.

Slughorn trailed off to look for a certain book, and the students began talking more casually. A plate with hors d'oeuvres was handed around, and just as Narcissa shook her head to decline and passed the plate on to Malfoy, she heard her cousin chortle.

"Good choice, Cissy. I wouldn't eat anything that the little grease ball's touched before either!"

Narcissa shot him an irritated look, taking one second to process his meaning. She jerked the plate back out of Malfoy's hands and picked the next best bite that looked as if it wasn't made of meat, shoving it into her mouth with a challenging glance. She chewed the distasteful snack, swallowed it, all the while glaring at her cousin, and said at last, "Seeing how unfortunate I am concerning my blood relations, cousin, I am indeed glad that I can at least choose who my friends are. Severus is worth ten of your kind."

"Only ten? I ought to try harder then!"

"Please, do so. Maybe you can do us all a favour and get yourself expelled after all?"

"What's happened, Cissily, that you are so wildly fawning over Malfoy's lapdog? Are you really that desperate?"

She rather felt than saw both Lucius and Severus twitching, and before they could say anything, she replied quietly, "Careful, cousin, careful. You don't want to mess with me."

"True. I'd much prefer to have a bit more fun with your eeny weeny protégé." Sirius grinned haughtily. "I don't curse girls, you know."

She laughed. "Oh, as long as it stays in the family, you really shouldn't bother with such conventions, cousin. Come on, walk it like you talk it. Hm? Suddenly scared, now that your petty little friends aren't there to back you up?"

They glared at each other, Sirius angry, Narcissa disdainful, both forgetting about the initial reason for their little fight and focusing on their own feud of old. Slughorn was still standing in front of a bookshelf, obliviously searching for the book he meant to give to Belby, but all the students watched the two combatants curiously. Sirius drew his wand with an expression of loathing, pushing down Andromeda's restraining hand.

"Go ahead, cousin, if you dare," Narcissa said coolly.

"Who do you think you are, Cissily?"

"It doesn't matter who I am. What counts is that I'm quicker than you." She smiled brightly, not bothering to take out her wand just yet. She was really good at duelling – it was inevitable with a sister like Bella.

Andromeda stepped between them, scowling at both of them alternately. "Stop this shit at once, both of you! Are you out of your heads?"

Narcissa was smiling still. "What did I do, then?"

"Put away your wand, Sirius! Honestly, this is beneath you!"

He obeyed reluctantly, hissing, "One of these days, Cissily, one of these days!"

Slughorn returned with the book he had looked for, noticed the tense atmosphere and asked witlessly, "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, eh? There are still two more matches to go for Gryffindor, Mr Black, you still have the technical chance of making it."

Sirius gawked at him, incredulous at so much thickness. Narcissa suppressed a laugh, like most others, and couldn't help it but kindle the fire some more, cooing, "But it's only a technical chance, isn't it? You're not going to allow them to win, are you, Lucius?"

Lucius was surprised, and delighted with such a friendly address. "Absolutely not!"

"Since when do you have a clue about Quidditch, Cissily? You know how many balls are involved?" Sirius cried.

"I know enough to understand that our team is the best by far. Isn't that right?" She innocently gazed around, aware that the room was full of Slytherins, each one of them a Quidditch enthusiast. In this moment, Lucius loved her. Positively loved her. Sure, she simply meant to tease her unbearable cousin, but still. She had never before said anything remotely nice about him, or to him. Now she looked at him, smiling shark-like. "I have complete faith in our Captain to win this year, yet again."

She calculated that annoying her Quidditch-obsessed cousin would outweigh flattering Lucius Malfoy's vanity by far. The other present Slytherin students, except Andromeda who loathed him, applauded wildly, while Sirius adapted a greenish tinge.

Before dismissing them all, Slughorn elicited Narcissa's promise to come the next time, too, and she, Severus, Lucius and Damocles Belby left together. The latter received a clandestine nudge from his roommate to speak up. "Coming back to Slughorn's idea, Narcissa – can I persuade you to come to one of our next potions club meetings?"

"Isn't it enough that I endure Slughorn's own club evenings?" she replied in a surly tone.

"But that's different! I should truly like to work with someone who knows their recipes, and I've heard great things about your proficiency!"

"And I have heard in turn that you need no help to be an excellent potioneer yourself, Belby. I'm not cut out to be a team player; you're better off on your own."

She thought this had been it, but she was mistaken. Only a few days later, she was approached by the girl with the startling eyes, whose name had slipped her mind for the moment. For a minute, she was irritated at some stranger, a Gryffindor even, addressing her, but then she realised with some surprise that the girl knew what she was talking about.

"Professor Slughorn has mentioned Memory Potions in our class, and from Severus I've heard that you possess Hector Dagworth-Granger's Compendium on Dragon Blood, which appears to cover the subject. I wonder if you would lend me the book?"

"What is it with you first years nowadays? You won't have it before your fourth year!"

"I simply like to experiment."

She shared nothing of Severus' inhibition or submissive air, in fact she was lively and self-confident, looking straight into Narcissa's eyes, smiling. She lent her the book, and a couple of others she'd ask for in the upcoming weeks, growing increasingly interested in the girl. If she truly understood what she was reading there –

"You've got classes with that Evans girl, Severus, haven't you? Is she any good?"

"She's really good with potions. And charms," he muttered, not lifting his head to look over.

"Perhaps you should study with her then. Her lecture for Potions is extraordinary."

"She's already studying with Damocles Belby."

"Yes, so what? Join them! He's excellent. Total genius in potion-making. You can only profit from his knowledge."

"No, I'd rather not... I'm not – you know... I don't fit in there..."

"For Merlin's sake, Severus, we really need to work on your self-esteem. The Evans girl hasn't only got a Muggle father, but a complete set of Muggle parents, and do you see her hiding away because of that? And if Belby is practising with her, he doesn't appear to mind either!"

"It's not only that... She's really good, you see... I don't want to make a fool of myself..."

"You achieved an 'O' in your last test, didn't you?"

"But only because you've helped me."

She rolled her eyes and used the following evenings to make her little protégé fit for joining Belby and the Evans girl. He was good enough in her opinion, but with a little training, he was genuinely excellent, even more considering that he was merely a first year. Eventually, she even agreed to accompany him to his first meeting, as a bit of psychological backup. Belby was surprised, though not unpleasantly, to see her, and in return, Narcissa got a pleasant surprise that night finding how much she was enjoying herself. Belby did know what he was doing, the Evans girl was an amazing talent too, Severus performed well as always, and in the end, she thought she'd have to revise her opinion on clubs – a certain kind of club, at least.

"And? Coming back next week?" Belby asked with a grin.

"I should see if the concoction turns out right, shouldn't I?"

They met every Thursday night at seven o'clock, with a special permission by Slughorn to trespass curfew if necessary. Quite incredulously, she registered that she was finally drawn into this whole school business, something she had successfully avoided for more than three years. Once a week she met with her Potions Club, every fortnight she attended Slughorn's meetings, and Severus talked her into watching the match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw – it was his only wish for his birthday.

She liked Damocles, or 'Cle', as his mates dubbed him. He was a genius, no doubt about it, single-minded, inventive, creative, and they all benefited from his engagement. He in turn would admit that the 'kids' – even Narcissa was two years his junior – inspired him to further greatness by contributing brilliant ideas. Old Horace Slughorn was very satisfied with himself.

One of the rather charming aspects of Damocles was the fact that he made no whatsoever attempt to get off with her. Despite the fact that Narcissa wasn't fifteen yet, approximately five dozen boys had tried to ask her out so far, and it was getting severely on her nerves. Why couldn't they just leave her to her peace? Was that truly too much to ask? Were they keen on being humiliated, or did they truly believe that she'd make an exception for the one asking? That they were more special than their fellows?! However, Damocles wasn't like this. He treated her with respect and nothing else, seeing a potion expert in her, not a pretty girl.

She had no idea why Damocles was so unobtrusive, and he wouldn't have told her either. It wasn't as if he was oblivious of her sparkling beauty, or her outstanding intelligence. In fact, he found her more perfect the better he got to know her. Still, his own roommate and friend Lucius had such a terrible crush on her; he didn't have the heart to approach her in any other way than that of friendship. His mate was jealous enough as it was.

"Why do you forbid me to come?" Lucius asked, lurking. "There's something going on there, be honest!"

"Yes, there is something going on, namely serious potion-making, Luce! And that's also the exact reason why I do not ask you – the two first years would put you in their pocket. Sorry, pal, but it's true! You haven't got the standard to –"

"Perhaps I'd be less substandard if you allowed me to come!"

"These aren't extra lessons, Luce. Come on, you don't want to make a fool of yourself in front of her."

"I got good marks in Potions!"

"I don't say you hadn't! But for once, Sluggy loves you, he'd never give you a bad mark, and then, you simply do what the book tells you. You haven't got the right sort of spirit for –"

"Stop quibbling, mates," Graham said in his sonorous bass. "And why don't you let him go just once, Cle, it's his business after all."

Damocles turned his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head. "Luce, I'm your friend. For all I care, come as you like, but as your friend, I also seriously advise you not to."

After his initial outrage had dissipated, Lucius did realise that Damocles wasn't entirely wrong, and no, he had no taste to be humiliated in front of Narcissa. But it needn't be like that, right? He interviewed his roommate about the upcoming plans of their study group and for the first time in more than half a year, he actually went into the library. He also wrote home to have one of the servants send him a bunch of books and seriously began to study and catch up. Some first years, beating him! Ph!

This new commitment got in the way of some of his other hobbies. Being Captain of the team, he could not cut back on Quidditch practise. He had to attend the Deputy Headmaster's meetings for the Prefects, too. Having little intention to live a monk's life in celibacy, he had to share his remaining time among his respective girlfriends and his buddies. Neither took that very kindly. He and some of his closest friends had a club of their own, and since there were seven of them, they had come up with the name 'Sepulture Septuplet' – corny, all right, but they had tried to find, and failed, a better word matching 'Septuplet'. Next to Lucius, there were Damocles – 'Cle', Graham – 'Golly', Marlon – 'Crabs', Evan – 'Rosie', Bertram – 'Bertie', and Horatio – 'Gibbs', and the lot of them had fun. Honestly, fun.

There was plenty of money between them, ample talent, and most of all, a hunger for adventure and challenge. They vied with each other, coming up with various stunts and pranks, collecting trophies, discovering ways out of the school, they had fantastic parties – public ones in the Slytherin Common Room, clandestine parties in secret places only for themselves. Cle, for example, had made himself a name for actually managing to slip a Giggling Potion into the kitchens, spiking tea and coffee for all house tables, and the staff. Golly and Crabs, less clever than their friends but all the more mischievous, had set all the school's Nifflers free, causing havoc at breakfast time because the little buggers had invaded the Great Hall and hurled themselves at every piece of shiny metal they would find, regardless whether it was jewellery, cutlery, or braces. Gibbs had transformed the central court yard into a snake pit, and Lucius had excelled himself by gaining two free days for all the students. He had invented a couple of spells to block every class room door, jam the corridors and confound the staircases.

They had given themselves rules, naturally, and albeit rule number one being complete secrecy, there were little doubts among students and teachers who was in and who wasn't. Narcissa knew it, too, and if she hadn't, she would have learnt it by her acquaintance with Damocles, because the other six regularly turned up to fetch their mate. Whenever she met Lucius Malfoy, he showered her with compliments, and one evening in late February, he even dared to attend one of their potions club meetings.

She sneered at him. "Wrong door, Malfoy. This is the potions club. For people who are apt at potions, you understand? That girl you're probably looking for must be in the room next door."

Damocles burst out cackling, but seeing his friend's scowl, he pretended to cough instead. Malfoy's face transformed as well; he smiled brightly at Narcissa and exclaimed, "The only girl I'm looking for is you, Black. Cle's told me about your latest work, and my father has made it very clear what will happen if my marks do not improve. Come on, give me a chance to prove to you that I'm not the moron that you take me for."

"Big talk, but that's your speciality, isn't it? Come on then. But I've got to warn you – Lily here is a Gryffindor. Bear in mind that her entire House will laugh at you if you mess this up."

Even though she was only a first year, and Muggle-born to boot, little Lily Evans grinned and stepped forth, waving boldly. 'Good girl,' Narcissa thought gleefully. 'Stupid cow,' Lucius thought, but did not cease smiling. He was well prepared – he would glory in Narcissa's presence, plus he could have an eye on Damocles and her. And he would show the little Mudblood her place.

Narcissa closely observed each of his moves, keen to discover a mistake. Sadly enough, she found none – he was no ace, but he wasn't half as bad as she had expected either, and once again she asked herself why he wouldn't make more of himself. Some practise, some interest to begin with, and he could be great! Truly great!

"How am I doing, Black?"

"You should be more exact."

"I prefer to think on the grand scale."

"Story of your life, Malfoy!"

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Tua quod... Don't mind businesses that aren't your own.

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