SEVERUS SNAPE AND THE MEETING OF THE S.L.O.T.H.
In a room called the Serpent’s Mouth within a portrait, Severus Snape sat pensively at a long, seemingly endless table. That grand table, adorned with silver and green dining ware and antiquated fixtures, would soon accommodate those considered the most revered “ and deceased “ members of the House of Salazar Slytherin. And although he found these meeting full of cracked history and grand self-aggrandizement, he was not in as poor a mood as he would have expected. Earlier that morning he had had a most interesting meeting in the Headmistress’ office. The Potter lineage, it seemed, had finally produced a young man whose sole purpose in life wasn’t to irritate Snape. Perhaps this Albus Severus Potter would prove to be Lily Evan’s true heir.
Severus Snape’s reverie was broken at the sharp snap of a boot crossing the marbled floor.
“Lucius,” Snape said, looking up at the man who was intimidating even when not among the living. “I only recently heard about your untimely passing. But I should have known a man of your… prominence… would already have a portrait.”
“Severus. I assume you are well,” Lucius said stiffly, sheathing his wand inside his serpent cane. His pale blond hair had silvered with age, and the turmoil of the Wizarding World Wars plagued his face with sharp lines even in death.
“Yes,” Snape said finally.
“You are early,” Lucius stated.
“I could not contain my enthusiasm in being here,” Snape said drolly. “You, on the other hand, look positively dreadful. “
“My grandson, Scorpius, torments me through my portrait at the Malfoy Manor every evening,” Lucius said. Snape raised a thick eyebrow. He had heard that Draco Malfoy had married and now had a son, Scorpius. But Dumbledore had described young Scorpius as kind and thoughtful young man, rather far removed from the fiery temperament that plagued his father during his tenure at Hogwarts.
“Well, your grandson’s malfeasance aside, how is your own boy?” Snape asked, curiosity getting the better of him at the thought of his old pupil.
“Draco isn’t a boy anymore… though you still remain his favorite teacher,” Lucius replied blandly, his face unreadable. Snape only nodded as they lapsed into silence. He was quite certain that had not been true for many years.
The seats around the grand table began to fill. Green and silver robed witches and wizards began to arrive in earnest. There was chatter and handshakes and claps on Severus Snape’s back as Slytherin alumni apparated in from portraits all over. The commotion finally came to an end when Phineas Nigellus, former Hogwarts headmaster and leader of this particular organization, arrived.
“Fellow Slytherins!” Phineas exclaimed, and the room fell respectfully silent. “Welcome to our eighth hundred and seventy first annual meeting of the Slytherin Loyal Order of True History! Severus, such an honor to have you join us once more!”
Snape nodded, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and curtly raised a hand at the enthusiastic applause and whistles that cascaded down upon him. Phineas gestured for him to stand, but Snape shook his head almost imperceptibly and stayed firmly in place.
“We call the meeting of the Slytherin Loyal Order of True History. Welcome to all of you! And a special welcome back to our very own Severus Snape, the savior of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!” Phineas declared. Snape gave a curt nod to applause that once again came raining down upon him.
“Professor Snape of Slytherin House was Potions master, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Headmaster,” Phineas continued. “Please, you must tell us again about how you defeated He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, the Ravenclaw fiend!”
Snape took a deep breath and, clenching his hands on the armrests of his chair, he began.
“Well, actually the tale begins with Professor Dumble-“
“Professor Snape, he spied for the Loyal House of Slytherin for many years against the plaque of Wizardkind, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, the Ravenclaw dark wizard!” Phineas shouted with a frenzied glee.
Again applause. Snape fixed Phineas with a glare, and after silence once again filled the hall, he continued.
“Yes. But to understand the genesis of my actions, we must begin with the night I met with Professor Dumbledore after the…death of Lily Potter-“
“Yes, the mother of the Chosen Slytherin who herself was a Slytherin! “
“She was a Gryffindor!” cried Bathilda.
“That’s an outrage!” hissed Phineas. “You’re just trying to make her a member of your own house!”
“But I’m a Slyther-“
Phineas jumped to his feet and hissed, “Silence! I will tolerate no further interruptions of Professor Snape, the Slytherin Hero! He deserves our respect! He not only fought the Dark Ravenclaw Lord from the shadows, but when the Second Battle of Hogwarts took place, he boldly assisted the valiant Slytherins as they defeated He-Who-Still-Remains-Unnamed alongside The-Chosen-Slytherin-Boy-Who-Lived.”
Applause, and this time and an ovation. Professor Snape looked about, his mouth fallen open. He stared incredulously over his hooked nose at the old headmaster.
“Is everything all right, Severus?” Lucius asked over the din, barely containing a smirk behind his slow drawl. The rest of the witches and wizards looked at Snape expectantly, eager to hear the rest of his tale.
Ignoring Lucius, he maintained his focus on Phineas. “I am merely… in awe… of your interpretation of wizarding history,” Snape said dryly.
“In awe?” asked Bathilda. “More like nauseated at this ridiculous fiction! I should know, I’m an author!”
The table instantly descended into chaos.
“Bathilda Bagshot, the lying Gryffindor!” Phineas yelled, “Portraying the noble history of Slytherin as maleficent! One hundred points from Gryffindor!”
“Forgive my impudence,” Severus said ironically. “But I was under the impression that Bathilda Bagshot was a fellow Slytherin.”
“You are sorely mistaken!” Phineas exclaimed hotly, “We only accept wizards and witches of the finest caliber! Like- such as the Potter boy! What a wonderful addition he will make upon departure from his mortal coil…”
Snape stared at the fellow Slytherin for a beat, and then nodded his head. “Of course,” he said soothingly. He gave Lucius a questioning look. Lucius nodded slightly and tapped his head. Severus focused onto the Legilimency and looked briefly into Lucius’s unguarded thoughts.
Come now, Severus, Lucius thought at Snape. Tell them how your tutelage of Potter in the area of Occulomancy so effectively kept the Dark Lord out his head.
Perhaps the Slytherin Order would prefer to hear the tale of how the great Lucius Malfoy was captured by a bunch of first year students at the Department of Mysteries and then shipped to Azkaban. Snape thought savagely at Lucius.
Lucius leaped to his feet and roared, “They were NOT first years!”
The table went silent as the Slytherins gaped alarmingly at Malfoy.
Professor Snape merely stared, a mild quizzical look on his face.
Lucius Malfoy pursed his lips, unclenched his fists, and said tersely, “Forgive me. I, um, was merely…” He trailed off into a mumbling incoherence. Then he went silent. Then he sat down.
Having judged Malfoy’s embarrassment at its apex, Professor Snape spoke again.
“Strange outbursts aside, where, might I ask, is Salazar Slytherin? I once again do not see him present here. If he were, I believe he would be sitting in your oversized chair, Phineas.”
The members all exchanged furtive glances. Phineas began stirring in his chair as if he had suddenly developed an itch on his backside.
“He, ah… His mind has been rendered idle with old age. He’s into the thousands, you know,” Phineas said uncharacteristically diplomatically.
“Really? I must be mistaken, but I was told that his portrait had him portrayed as a young man,” Snape said slowly.
“Phineas never gives Salazar the correct times for the meetings!” Bathilda blurted out. “He doesn’t like Salazar contradicting our history here!”
Phineas turned alarmingly red and jumped to his feet.
“Five hundred points from Gryffindor!” Phineas barked, spittle flying from his mouth and splattering the charmed table. The enchanted silver snakes that adorned it hissed and slithered towards him angrily. “Uh, meeting adjourned!” Phineas yelped and quickly apparated back to his portrait.
Snape, with a twirl of his dark robes, followed suit and stepped into his portrait in the headmistress’ office.
“How did it go, Severus?” Dumbledore asked serenely as he sat in his own portrait, not looking up from the book he had perched on his lap.
“To be honest, I found it disagreeable,” Severus said to the former headmaster.
Dumbledore looked up at him from over his half-moon spectacles and smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling.
From an adjacent portrait, however, Professor Minerva McGonagall did not share in his mirth.
“Disagreeable, Severus?” McGonagall exclaimed sarcastically. “They do nothing there but sit and spout lies! Potter was in my house.” There was no mistaking the pride in her voice at the mention of Harry and her former house.
“Lies! False propaganda! He was a Slytherin boy!” Phineas screeched from his portrait across the room.
Freida Luminare, the current Headmistress of Hogwarts, looked up from her desk. “Would you all please stop bickering?” She pleaded. But McGonagall and Phineas continued as if Luminare had actually encouraged them to continue their verbal fisticuffs.
“I need to get a new office,” Frieda muttered. Dumbledore smiled at her while Snape merely rubbed his long nose with his fingertips.
“I would not deprive you the pleasure of our company,” Professor Snape said slowly. “I would insist Mr. Filch move us to your new locale.”
“Well said, Severus, well said!” Armando Dippet exclaimed. The sleeping headmaster beside him blinked wearily and shushed him.
Ignoring Dippet, Snape looked at Dumbledore and asked, “I am curious about something Lucius Malfoy told me at the meeting about his grandson. Do you know much about him, Albus?”
“I have been privy to information about young Scorpius, yes,” Dumbledore answered. "Quite thoughtful and sensitive, which I am sure has helped soften Draco a bit."
Snape looked skeptically at Dumbledore and said, "Lucius just informed me that Scorpius torments his grandfather’s portrait on a nightly basis.”
“Ah, poor Lucius. Apparently young Scorpius is quite taken with the house elves at Malfoy Manor. As I am sure you know, Harry Potter is legendary among the elves, first with his liberation of Dobby and then his subsequent alliance with Kreacher. Well, Scorpius is a thoughtful but shy boy with few friends, I think mostly due to Draco and Astoria’s keeping him so sheltered. And so he spends most of his time associating with the household staff. And the staff, comprised almost entirely of elves, share with him the tales of one of his father’s schoolmates, Harry James Potter. One particular elf, I believe named Ticklus, was so thoughtful as to inform Scorpius of Draco’s rescue from a Fiend Fire curse in the Room of Requirement during that last desperate battle.
“And so here is the crux of Lucius’ torment: Scorpius has become zealous fan of Harry. Positively rabid in all things Potter. He has even taken to conjuring a scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. And so Scorpius comes to Lucius’ portrait every night, with two house elves in tow “ one he calls Ronus and the other Hermana just for the occasions “ and begs his grandfather to regale him with stories of the great Harry Potter. And Lucius, while quite beside himself over Scorpius’ obsession, cannot bring himself to break his grandson’s spirit by repudiating his idol.”
McGonagall studied Snape’s expression and said, “Why, Severus! Is that a smile I see on your face?”
“Of course not,” Snape said, his lips still slightly curled. “But…I believe I will pay Lucius’ portrait a visit sometime soon. I think it would please Lucius greatly if I told young Scorpius about how his grandmother saved Harry Potter’s life after the Dark Lord’s curse rebounded off him in the Forbidden Forest. I am quite certain that neither Lucius nor Narcissa have informed the boy about that little tidbit of history."
"How can you be sure, Severus?" McGonagall asked. "My understanding is that they told the Ministry about Narcissa's intervention to keep themselves out of Azkaban. Surely it's common knowledge by now."
"That they weaseled their way out of Azkaban is common knowledge," Snape answered. "But the particulars are not. We only know of it thanks to our illustrious - and always doubly informed - former Headmaster."
Albus Dumbledore spread both his arms and took a half bow that brought a chuckle to Minerva McGonagall's lips. Severus Snape's own lips merely curled. '
"Yes, that is correct," Dumbledore explained. "The reasons should be obvious. We all know what happened to Igor Karkaroff after the Voldemort returned to power. I believe the Malfoy's used whatever influence they had left to keep the particulars of their testimony secret. Not that they had any fear of Voldemort returning, since they saw him die. But Lucius was always a cautious and calculating one. Perhaps he fears a vengeful former Death Eater."
"But Lucius has passed on," Snape interjected. "And Mr. Potter's Auror Department has done a thorough job of rounding up those Death Eaters that survived the Second Battle of Hogwarts. Lucius' fears of retribution are misplaced. Besides, if Scorpius is a thoughtful person who keeps to himself then I am quite certain he will keep the tale of Narcissa's actions to himself - and the staff, I suppose. Thus, the tale of the Malfoy's rescue of Potter can finally be told to the one person at the Manor who would truly appreciate it. It may further inflame Scorpius’ obsession in ‘all things Potter’, but that is a chance I am willing to take.”
Dumbledore chuckled and said, “Severus, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you worked with me rather than against me all those years! Your cruel streak, while endearing to your friends and allies, can be positively devastating to your enemies.”
Snape merely shrugged his shoulders. And then, quite without meaning to, asked a question he had no idea he was even curious about.
“And what of the other children, the other Granger-Weasley and Potter children?”
McGonagall raised her eyebrows in surprise. Dumbledore merely continued to smile and said, “Rose Weasley has as keen an intellect as her mother. Hugo Weasley, while perhaps not as bright, has his father’s heart. Albus Severus Potter you met this morning, if I have been correctly informed.”
Snape looked over at McGonagall and said quietly, “I thought you were sleeping, Minerva.”
“Just dozing, Severus. “
Snape snorted and then Dumbledore continued.
“The Potters have an older boy named James, who I am certain you will meet in this office during his many future detentions. And then there is the youngest Potter child, whom they have named Lily.”
“The Potters have girl?” Severus asked after a bit of a pause.
“A lovely young girl, who takes after her mother and grandmother in both looks and attitude,” Dumbledore said proudly.
Snape nodded, turned to his chair, sat down, and closed his eyes.
He did not sleep for a long time.
Hours later, Salazar Slytherin hobbled into The Serpent’s Mouth. It was quite empty. He raised his cane into the air and shook it. “Again?” He called out to no one but himself. He walked over and patted Jonuthot, a silver snake that was still writhing angrily, on the head. In Parsel tongue he said, “In my day, people of my stature were revered and respected! Appointments kept! Promises honored!”
The great snake looked up and answered, What you missed here was not worth the scale I just molted, Master Salazar. I could fit its usefulness on the tip of my fang.
“Not the point, Jonuthot!” cried Slytherin’s founder. By now all of the snakes in the room had come to feet of their patron saint. “A meeting of famous deceased Slytherins without Salazar Slytherin?! This is an egregious insult! What’s next? A celebration of blood-traitors and muggle sympathizers? Mudblood support groups? By all that is silver and green!”
Shall we bite them all at the next meeting master? Jonuthot asked hopefully, the other snakes nodding encouragingly.
“No, my friends,” said Salazar forlornly as he sank into the nearest chair. “A Slytherin is still a Slytherin no matter how poorly mannered. But perhaps we can trade tales of our own. For instance, let me tell you a tale about a relative of yours so mighty that he lived on in legend for centuries after my death. There is a room at Hogwarts known as the Chamber of Secrets…”