What A Man Can Do

- Chapter Twelve -

WHAT A MAN CAN DO

I'm going to take my time – I have all the time in the world to make you mine. It is written in the stars above. The gods decree you'll be right here by my side, right next to me. You can run, but you cannot hide. Don't say you want me, don't say you need me, don't say you love me, it's understood. Don't say you're happy out there without me, I know you can't be 'cause it's no good.

DEPECHE MODE

*******

Lucius had survived the stay in Romania. So had the dragon that he had cursed with the wand he had stolen from one of the monks – he was probably the first delinquent who had managed to be thrown out two weeks before his scheduled release. Abraxas had fumed with anger and threatened to make his son spend the remainder of his summer holidays in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, but had given up at last. The boy was a hopeless case in his father's eyes anyway.

Narcissa hadn't yet come to regret her decision to join up the Sepulture Septuplet – even though she didn't stop mocking the silly name, just like her new 'buddies'. As her first and so to speak initial act, she had jinxed the Sorting Hat – it had consequently lost its voice, desperately trying to cry out to which houses the students ought to go, but not succeeding. One can't lip-read from a piece of talking headgear. She was more than just a little proud that even Dumbledore himself had needed two and a half hours to fix the hat again, and that both Lucius and Damocles had recommended her most warmly had been another source of secret joy. These guys knew their jinxes after all, didn't they?

The school year meandered along like every other, if not quite as unpleasantly from Narcissa's point of view as the previous four. For one, she had Severus' company. He fulfilled every hope she had put in him. His hexes had always been excellent, but she had to credit Lucius Malfoy for further refining the boy's skills in that quarter. Severus' potions were worthy of a fourth year, at least – actually, half of Narcissa's own classmates from the fifth year couldn't have matched him. He eagerly picked up on any book recommendation Narcissa made and also developed a bit more self-confidence, standing up to his ill-willed roommates with seeming indifference. Seeming indifference, but she trusted he would in time master true indifference as well.

Fortunately, most Slytherins left him alone nowadays. His curses were famous despite his tender age, and that the great Lucius Malfoy had him under his wing made the members of their House refrain from most too overt hostilities. No Slytherin voluntarily got in the way of him. The members of the other Houses – or more precisely, certain members of Gryffindor House – were, deplorably, not to be impressed by either of the two boys. Sirius Black had his own Septuplet – well, a quartet, anyhow – and for some reason completely beyond Narcissa's grasp, their favourite pastime was making little Severus' life hell. They mocked and taunted him whenever they met, they challenged him to fight, and even if he managed to take down one of them (she was proud of him that he nearly always managed to curse at least one of the little rats in the end), the other three weren't above overwhelming him by sheer number.

Oh yes, Narcissa had strongly disliked her cousin before he had ever set a foot into Hogwarts. But eighteen months into his school time, she positively despised him, more vividly than she had ever thought possible. They were a truly nasty lot. Vain and full of themselves, skulking through the castle with that sort of swagger as if they had just vanquished an entire goblin rebel squad! But the very worst of all was the abominable condescension with which they treated other students. Narcissa didn't care for any of them, but she did care for Severus, who was their favourite target.

She knew full well that she was considered to be supremely arrogant, too, and she didn't mind it. But she only dished out scathing remarks if pressed, if people didn't leave her alone! Sirius and his little gang of miscreants on the other hand would tease other children because they were just standing there, because they belonged to the wrong House, because they had a squint, or a leer, because their robes were worn-down or their hairdo stupid, because someone was a lousy Quidditch player or supported the wrong team. Sirius always in the foreground with his inevitable buddy whatshisname, the other two slightly more silent in the background, delivering the cheers and giggles. Tedious, loathsome, vile little boys, ph! And she was related by blood to the worst of them!

"I can teach him a lesson he never forgets," Lucius offered her time and time again, and she knew that he could. Knowing him a little better by now, she knew that he had a formidable knowledge of the Dark Arts already, even though he had never received any proper training. "Just tell me."

"You'd get expelled in a heartbeat."

"I remember a time when that seemed more than palatable to you."

And that was always the moment when she laughed. "Yes. But now you're a buddy, are you not?"

"I could teach him the sort of lesson I wouldn't get expelled for, just a few weeks of detentions with Filch."

"Believe it or not, Lucius, but that lesson I can teach him myself."

"And why don't you do it if the little cockroach annoys you so much?"

"Because I wouldn't do Severus any favour with it. Because Sirius and his nasty chums would only torment him the worse, and because it'd be a humiliation for him to have someone else defend him as if he couldn't do that himself."

"He clearly can't."

"He can't because it's four against one. It's nothing libellous in losing when you're thus outnumbered."

"We could easily outnumber them in turn, if you want. One word from you, Cissa –"

"I don't curse second years, and mind you, neither should you. So unsportsmanlike!"

His lips twisted to that trademark curl that always managed to annoy her as much as intrigue her. When he directed it at her, it was far more friendly though – to be quite honest, she had come to like that little curl quite a lot. "Unsportsmanlike?"

"It's like setting a Doberman on a turtle, Lucius! I won't lower myself to be on a level with my wretched cousin and his irksome little friends. And if you want me to hold the tiniest bit of respect for you, you'll steer clear of them, too. I've worked hard to knock some self-esteem into Severus' head; I won't stand-by watching you taking that away from him again by acting like his nanny!"

Lucius didn't say that he had strong doubts whether the constant humiliation the kid suffered through by being cursed in every possible and impossible way was likely to heighten, or even maintain his self-esteem, but he would never openly disagree with Narcissa. He was too grateful that she was talking to him nowadays, that she bore with his presence and gave him an occasional smile – or praise. Little Snape was all right, but he wasn't worth losing darling Narcissa's good graces. She was more obstinate than he had reckoned with anyhow. Salazar knew, Lucius had tried every trick in the book to get off with her, sod his pledge to leave her alone. The better he got to know her, the more impossible it was for him to get her out of his head.

Sending her flowers – she had laughed, and used the two hundred roses for a spell, entertaining the other students at breakfast by transforming them into rotten tomatoes, harassing Gryffindor table. He had stopped seeing any other girl – no reaction at all, none whatsoever, not even the tiniest remark on her part. He had started dating three girls a week, even the ugliest of her dorm mates, to make her jealous – her only reaction was unveiled, contemptuous ridicule. He read poetry books, spell books – for heaven's sake, he had even read some of the Muggle authors she had praised so warmly – but apart from a benevolent smirk, her impression hadn't gone any further than 'See? I knew you weren't unintelligent, Lucius!'

What could a man do? He had paid her every compliment ever uttered under the sun – and all of them, all of them, had been absolutely heartfelt and sincere! And did she ever do as much as listen? Oh, she did listen, but only to twist and turn the words against him in scorn, or simply retort, 'Good one, Malfoy. Finally a remark that you haven't got out of Ten Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches!'

The more she withstood his advances, the more desirable she was to him. He had always thought she was plain perfect, but little had he known how right this appraisal had been. Since he had gotten to know her for real... Ironically, he frequently forgot how badly he wanted her, how he craved to touch this delectable body, find out if her skin felt only half as silky as it looked... Listening to her let him forget to wonder how it would feel to kiss those rosy lips. Watching her spell work made him forget to roam her body with his eyes. And the dreams at night when he was shagging – no, never shagging; not Narcissa, to her he made love in his dreams – these dreams, however, had been incrementally supplanted by images where he just held her hand and listened to her and trembled like an aspen leaf simply because she'd give him one of those indescribable smiles.

He had stopped going to the potions club nights; he did need his time to prepare for his NEWTs, and incidentally, Narcissa had anyway offered to study with him for the exams instead. Share her with Cle, Severus and the bold little Gryffindor, or have her all for himself – it wasn't exactly hard to choose, was it! The potions club was flourishing, with or without Lucius partaking. Professor Slughorn couldn't have been any prouder. He credited himself for being the one introducing these four prodigious students, just as he was ready to take all the credit for the youngest Miss Black's slight defrosting and young Snape's impressive performance. In retrospect, he would claim in all earnestness that he had immediately recognised the boy's destiny for greatness; in his head it was a matter of truth that he had been the one to recommend Snape to Malfoy junior in the first place.

"Please, wait a moment, Mr Snape," old Slughorn cried after class; Severus had just mastered a particularly difficult soothing potion at the first attempt. "I've got a book that you might want to take a look at."

The boy obeyed, grateful, and marvelled at the five-hundred year old tome in his hands while maundering out of the classroom at last. He willed himself not to give a start when hearing the all-too-familiar voices behind his back, cackling, and kept on staring at the open pages.

"Now here's an eager beaver, don't you think, Sirius?"

"What's this, Snivellus? Looking for a beautifying potion?"

"No beautifying potion could help him with that mug, pal!"

Severus inhaled deeply like Narcissa had advised him to do, turned around and glared at the foursome. "Is that all you can come up with, Potter? You've been more inventive before."

"Sorry, swotter, it's just that your ugly face distracts me so much," Potter snarled with a sneer.

"Anything else? Come on, you can do better, can't you?"

Black giggled. "Yes, James, you can do better!"

The end of this was that, after some more banter, they all snatched their wands. Severus aimed his new-learnt Twitcher Hex so well that Potter not only lost grip of his wand, but with the same jerky move slapped his bosom buddy Black on the pristine cheek. All right, so next thing, Severus found himself on the floor with a leg-lock curse that Lupin had cast on him. Who could say what would have happened next if Professor Slughorn hadn't been alarmed by the noise from outside, snatching Potter and Lupin by the nape of their necks and dragging them upstairs to see their own Head of House, with Pettigrew and Black – who had his best mate's fingers imprinted in glowing red on the cheek still – in their tow. Severus stayed where he was, knowing full well what was expected of him – Professor Slughorn would give him the same punishment that Lupin, Potter and Black were in for, but he'd never do that in front of the other House's students. In turn for such benevolence, it was an unwritten Slytherin law that the student in question co-operated by not fleeing the scene of the crime, for example.

"Severus, Severus," Slughorn wheezed and swabbed his forehead when returning and leading the boy to his office. "You're one intelligent lad – when will you get it into your head that you cannot win when outnumbered four to one?"

"It's all just a matter of the more powerful spell, innit?"

The teacher gave him a sharp, inquisitive glance. "What do you mean?"

The boy looked bewildered. "Well, like I said – numbers should be no problem if you have the right spell to neutralise them. Isn't that right?"

"Oh!" Slughorn laughed, sounding relieved. "Yes, of course. Neutralise them, yes. Well, you just keep on learning from your friends Miss Black and Mr Malfoy; it can only do you good."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll expect you seven o'clock here in my office, Severus. Bring your dragon-hide gloves; you're going to stock up our tar beetle provisions."

"Yes, sir."

There was some justice in this world after all, Severus found out after dinner. He met Lily in the corridor, who – chuckling gleefully – reported that Potter, Black and Lupin had got themselves detentions with Mr Filch, the disgruntled caretaker, and were in for a night of polishing the flagstone floors without magic. His own punishment was a piece of cake compared to this, and he thought that was only fair. He hadn't started this brawl, after all!

"Why don't you try to get along with them?" Lily asked.

"Why don't you ask them to just leave me alone?" he asked back.

She grinned and patted his shoulder. "Because you are smart and reasonable. Talking to Black and Potter – I may as well try talking to a brick wall!"

She strode away with that remark, up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, and Severus watched after her, feeling strangely elated. He was woken from his silent reverie by another hand on his shoulder, and turning around, he looked into the piercing grey eyes of his patron.

"I heard you were looking for an appropriate spell to take down four attackers at once, kiddo?" He curled his lips into a conniving smirk. "Miss Black won't have me be your nanny, but I do believe there are a couple of things I can show you still!"

Severus smiled back at him. "That – that'd be fabulous!"

"Meet me in the common room once you're through with your detention, and I'll see what I can do."

He winked at the younger boy, and this one gave a laugh, before recomposing his features into a more serious mode. "Is this something I'd rather not mention to Nar- Miss Black?"

Lucius sighed and twisted his face. "Let me put it this way – perhaps don't tell her for now, and if you are successful in using it without getting yourself into more trouble... Well, in that case I'd be disappointed if you did not let it slip, my dear boy."

Incidentally – it worked. He learnt a jinx, similar to a Shield Charm, that would sweep any number of people in a certain vicinity off their feet. He took a week of practising, and the great moment came; Black made a disparaging remark about Severus' hair, and after sending them all to the ground indiscriminately, Severus raised his chin, mocked Potter's stupid gesture of ruffling his hair, and turned on his heels to walk away with his head up high without a further comment.

"I am so proud of you," Narcissa commended him with a wide smile. "So proud, Severus! I'm always the one to say, 'Don't pick up a fight if you can avoid it,' but they had it coming. Boy, they had!"

"Actually, it was Lucius showing me..."

She cast him an arch glance. "Yes, that's what I supposed. And why shouldn't he prove every now and then that his intellectual range goes beyond catching and throwing a Quaffle? Every monkey could do the same."

"I – I know it isn't my place, Narcissa, but... He really isn't stupid, you know?"

She gave a dry laugh. "Course I know, Severus. That's why I find it so unnerving that he wastes it all on useless nonsense. Look at yourself, look at little Lily Evans – you two are superior to him in many respects, and you're five years his junior!" Seeing him blush, she added, "You are, Severus, never forget that. You are very special, and I find it admirable that you are willing to improve still. That's another thing I want you to always remember – you can achieve anything you want, if only you set all your capacities in it. Anything, you hear me?"

"You are very gracious, but I..."

"It says a lot for you that you wouldn't see it that way, dear. That is, after all, what distinguishes you from a bloke like Malfoy. He always thinks the best of himself. Even in his worst moments, he's inclined to see the opposite."

He shook his head. "Honestly, Narcissa, he's not half as bad as you – I mean – he's not bad at all. He is really nice, you know? Without him – and you, of course – I'd still be – you know... And –"

Narcissa felt awkward about the boy's embarrassment, so she cried lightly, "Nonsense, Severus, nonsense! Maybe Lucius and I made things a little easier. Maybe. Because real talent, and brains, cannot but prevail in the end, and you've got both. Now, you might get the impression that fancy, expensive clothes count, or handsome faces, or who your parents are, but that's really not true. It's the magic that it all comes down to, and you got plenty of that. I truly thought you knew that yourself!"

"Well, yes – I mean, I hope it's like that."

"See?" She was satisfied and shot him a warm smile. "I don't understand what we're even arguing about."

"I merely meant... You must not always be so hard on Lucius, he really tries to –"

She didn't let him finish, her expression suddenly sour again. "Lucius, Lucius! What does he try, after all! He's got everything, everything on a silver tray – silver?! Make that platinum! He's got the talent, and the brains, and for what end does he use them! To entertain his mates, to play Quidditch, to seduce every stupid chick he comes across, and if he invents a spell, it's something that's of no use for anything good! I mean it, Severus – if you want to follow someone's example, don't let it be Lucius Malfoy's! That's a cul-de-sac, can't you see that?"

"I think he is good," Severus murmured timidly but nonetheless stubbornly, not daring to meet her gaze, but feeling obliged to defend the boy who had done so much for him.

"You really do?"

"Yeah! He isn't evil, he couldn't be..."

Surprisingly, she broke out in merry laughter and patted his back. "Of course not! Oh my! I didn't mean to say he was evil, Severus!"

"You didn't?" He was confused.

"I said that he's up to no good, Severus! There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamed of in your philosophy!" Seeing that he got even more puzzled, she thought she had to elaborate on the point. "Life isn't about good and evil. As a matter of fact, there is no such thing. It's – they don't exist for real! They're nothing but a human concept – to explain the world, you see?"

He didn't, she could tell by his expression, and tried again. "Look... The entire idea is really archaic – old, overcome, you understand? It was made up to coax people into a certain type of behaviour. There's good behaviour, and bad – meaning: appropriate, or inappropriate, for the respective person and situation. And what's considered so always depends on time, place, the persons involved... It's all a mere matter of perspective. Different people, different times, different societies – they all had their very own idea of good and evil, and little consistency between them, if any at all. You comprehend this, don't you?"

He nodded pensively, and she patted his back once again. "I knew you would," she said fondly, proud as usual of her clever little friend.

*******

There are more things in heaven and earth... From: William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I, scene 5.

*******