"However, I have an idea how we can handle next year, or at least make the best of it, to handle this situation."
"Let's hear this scheme then," he requested, wondering what the younger man had in mind.
...
"The foreign exchange program next year—we're planning to send some of our best and brightest students to represent the school abroad. Filius will almost certainly put forward Potter's name from his own house to act as ambassador for the school, so why not send him? He will only be here for about four weeks in total the whole entire school year, and that will include only twelve potions lessons.
We can get rid of him for virtually the entire year, postponing any issues with this agreement for the year and getting the governors off your back about the whole issue. With the Tri-Wizard Tournament in full swing the next year, they'll be far too busy posing for cameras to look any closer into potion lessons," Severus suggested.
"An interesting proposal. I'll certainly consider it," he voiced, reconsidering his original plans for getting Remus close to the lad by offering him the DADA position. "Or do you just want to get rid of Ravenclaw's star Seeker?"
"Quidditch has nothing to do with this," Severus countered.
"If you say so, my friend," he muttered, while giving the potion master a curious look; he knew all too well that Severus was both extremely competitive and proud of his house. "You're not going to ask me why I agreed to give him private lessons?" He wondered if the potions master already knew his reasoning, or perhaps just didn't care. Probably both, but it did worry him if that was the case, as that meant the potion master understood how his mind worked far too well for comfort.
"You have been looking for a means to understand him since the start of the year. This gives you the perfect chance to get your claws into him," Severus voiced dryly, as he studiously ignored the remark about claws. "You have also been going on and on about trying to recruit him to play a part in your plans; trying to get another pawn to support your knight, your champion. The lessons also serve as an opportunity to hopefully use him to bridge the gap between you and his godfather, the Lord Black, hoping that it will improve your relationship with Sirius, since your pet dog hasn't helped you out at all on that front."
He ignored that remark about Remus. "You disapprove, my friend?" he asked.
"I don't disapprove at all; it's quite logical. And it's also a tactic you've used many times before to recruit or create friendships with talented people. I just don't believe that it will work in this case," the younger man countered with an uncaring shrug. "You keep trying to think of him as just another student, a child caught up with your legend, but he doesn't care for any of that; he sees you for what you truly are. At the moment, he is indifferent to you, doesn't care what happens to you; in fact, I suspect that he is only helping you right now because you're the lesser of two evils. Even with your attempt at blackmail, he saw through it, saw what it was and ultimately how weak it was, and then manipulated the situation to actually gain something valuable out of it. You never intended to discuss terms."
"I'd hardly call it blackmail, my boy," he defended. "I was simply trying to both encourage him to see the bigger picture and to do the right thing."
"Blackmail is blackmail, no matter how you justify it to yourself," Severus countered, with his own amused smile at the situation. Being able to lecture the old fool for once on morality was both ironic and quite the treat. "And he will remember that. Next time he will be even more prepared for your tactics. Do you want me to locate this 'meeting place' of theirs, by the way?"
"Yes, if you could," he agreed, taking the offered chance to change the uncomfortable subject. "What do you make of Mr. Potter's information?"
"Better than we had before. Now we only have a couple of suspects, rather than the whole school worth, and even the confirmed main entrance to the Chamber of Secrets," Severus answered, as he sipped at his cooling tea. "However, I'm putting my money on the Weasley girl being involved. Lucius would enjoy staining her family's name and indirectly yours at the same time. You know as well as I do that the two families have had a silent feud going on between them for decades. It's common knowledge you have close ties with the family; two birds with one stone in his mind, I'm sure. It would most likely result in her father losing his job at the ministry if his daughter was found out to be involved."
"Indeed, it could be an issue," he voiced, already knowing the family's main source of income was from Arthur's job. The loss of that would be devastating to them. "I think it's time we talked to Miss Weasley. Given the nature and seriousness of the situation, it would be understandable if we used veritaserum."
"Indeed. If we're wrong, worst case, we can simply obliviate her and erase the whole meeting from her mind," the potion master offered as a solution.
"Now who has questionable morality?" he shot back with a grin.
"Never said I didn't; it's quite the advantage for a dark wizard, you should try it sometime," Severus retorted with a small smirk. "Besides, I am sure you can persuade Molly to understand why such extreme measures were necessary."
"Right you are, my friend," he replied, greatly enjoying this banter with someone who understood what was required to serve the greater good. "I'll bring Fawkes too; never know when he might be of assistance."
"Just great, now you're bringing the overgrown turkey," Severus muttered not too quietly.
"Don't let Fawkes hear you say that," he advised with a good measure of humour.
...
( Wales – Aberdyfi )
'What to do? What to do?' Peter kept asking himself as he stalked around the cheap room he had rented for the night. He was desperately trying to find a solution to the worsening situation he found himself in.
He walked into the bathroom, ran some water, and started to splash some cold water onto his face. 'Damn, I look terrible,' he thought, as he looked upon his tired features, heavy black bags easily visible beneath his eyes, with his skin pale and worn from stress. His hands automatically turned off the taps.
Entering the bedroom, he took a moment to take off his battered, travel-worn robes, leaving him in nothing but a dirty vest and moth-eaten underwear, before collapsing on the old single bed in the room.
Reaching for his money pouch, which had been growing steadily lighter after several months of continuously running from Aurors and bounty hunters with no source of income, he pulled the cord and poured the contents onto the bed. His heart sank even further as he realized just how financially screwed he was at the sight of the small pile of gold pieces, which he carefully set about counting.
He knew that it wouldn't be enough; he was essentially almost bankrupt after all, and with no gold, he had little hope of maintaining his freedom from the law. 'How did it end up like this?' he asked himself, trying to understand where it all went wrong. 'Longbottoms,' was the single word that jumped immediately to mind, as he remembered that fateful Halloween where his life had been turned upside down. That Halloween night which had looked so promising, only to turn to ash with the Dark Lord's unexpected fall.
He remembered the overwhelming pride that the Dark Lord had selected him to accompany him on his personal mission to wipe out the Longbottom family, mostly due to his understanding of their defences and the wards recognising him as friendly. Bellatrix instead led the attack against the Potters, again, thanks to his information.
He shook his head once again; he truly missed his old friends. Years of isolation and self-reflection had made him realize that truth at least, and now, looking at a lifetime of imprisonment or worse, he was truly sorry for his betrayal, even if it had been to save his own hide.
Rationally, he could tell himself that he did only what was necessary to live another day, but his gut kept telling him otherwise, as he remembered all the people he had sacrificed for his own life. He looked down at the faded Dark Mark on his arm; any hope he had of sheltering with anyone besides the Dark Lord for protection was a pipe dream. "What to do?" he asked the room aloud, as he looked out of the window, the dark clouds suiting his depressed mood as the first raindrops loudly hit the window.
Looking back down the alley, he saw sudden movement. Four individuals in Auror uniforms were heading in his direction. Looking down the other end of the alley, he saw another group of four approaching; he realized that they were probably here for him. "Shit," he muttered as he rushed to put his clothes back on.
After all, he may be a traitor, but he wasn't going to be stunned and bound in his underwear; he did have some semblance of pride remaining! All this quickly went through his mind as he quickly stuffed a leg into his trousers, just to realize that he had put the limb in the wrong trouser leg and then promptly fell to the floor in an undignified heap!
...
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