“He wants you to spy on me and report to him about me? Hilarious.”

Severus raised a glass of Firewhisky to Harry with a slight smirk. He had decided that he could drink it in front of Harry, who indeed showed no impulse to ask for it himself, even though he had eyed Severus’s drink with slight curiosity. “Indeed. I think that Albus has faith in my spying skills and nothing else.”

“And no faith in any attachment you might have developed to me.”

“Of course not. Albus thinks me the same boy he watched in school, the same young man he had swear an Unbreakable Vow.”

“But given the Vow…”

“I believe that his talk of your possession is meant to get me around the Vow.”

Harry blinked at him for a moment, and then smiled a bit. “Because if I’m not me, but the Dark Lord possessing my body, then the boy you swore to protect is already dead.”

“Yes.” Severus sipped from his glass and set it down again. “Have you begun your research into the Dark Lord’s past?”

“Yes, but only recently.”

“Albus told me that he grew up in an orphanage in the Muggle world and was not beloved there. There might be certain memories you can look for in the Dark Lord’s mind that would show you what he might have prized from his childhood.”

“Besides the diary?”

Severus grimaced. “Yes, that would be the sticking point, if the other Horcruxes are treasures he acquired more recently.”

“Well, we know that he is descended from Salazar Slytherin, or so he claims. Would things that belonged to that family have significance for him?”

“I assume they would, but I know little of the line except that they had the name Gaunt at one point. None of them had attended Hogwarts in recent memory for the Slytherins I went to school with.”

Harry smiled, a dangerous, glinting thing that Severus would back against the Dark Lord or Albus any month of the year. “It’s a place to start.”

*

“Sir, can I speak to you, please?”

Draco’s voice was low, his face was pale, his hands trembling. Severus nodded at once to the request when Draco remained behind after Potions class. He wondered if Harry had terrified Draco again, or perhaps his father.

But when Severus had chased the dunderheads, minus Harry, out of the classroom and closed the door, Draco took a deep breath and asked, “Is the Dark Lord as terrifying and glorious as they say?”

“Who says specifically, Mr. Malfoy? And please use the past tense.”

“I know, all right? I know.”

Severus raised his eyebrows slowly. That did rather change things. He wondered if it were Lucius who had mentioned the Dark Lord to his son and not Harry. He stepped back and said, “I will require an Oath of Silence from you, Draco.”

Draco drew his wand without hesitation and touched the tip to Severus’s. “I swear that I will repeat to no being, magical or Muggle, living or dead, anything I speak of in this conversation, by deed or quill, by word or gesture, except for Severus Snape.”

Severus raised his eyebrows even higher—the form of the oath was an old one that he thought Narcissa might have instructed Draco in, rather than Lucius—but nodded as he tucked his wand back in its holster. “What troubles you, Mr. Malfoy?”

“I want to know about the Dark Lord.”

Draco’s voice was small, but defiant, and the way that his eyes rested on Severus said he wouldn’t be put off easily. Severus sighed and nodded. “Yes, he is terrifying and glorious. I don’t know if words can properly convey the measure of the terror and the glory. It would depend on what you’ve heard.”

“What Potter said.”

Severus hid a frown. He knew that Harry had acquired the loyalty of other Slytherins so he could make himself more attractive as a prospect for an ally to the Dark Lord, but now that Harry was fixated on gaining power and freedom enough to escape from the Dark Lord if he could…

Where did that leave Draco?

“I still do not know everything Mr. Potter might have told you, Draco.”

Draco braced himself as if for a curse, licked his lips, and said, “Potter said he would overwhelm me. That I’m not as suited to being a Death Eater as I—always thought I was.”

“Did you think that? Or did your father?”

“I did, of course.”

But Draco had winced in a way that would have told Severus he was lying even if he was as capable of Legilimency as a stone. He sighed and lowered his head. “You should know, Draco, that just because your father was a Death Eater does not mean you need to become one.”

“But…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think either Father or the Dark Lord will accept any other answer,” Draco said in an almost soundless whisper, ducking his head.

Severus shook his head. “The Dark Lord does not need poor tools, Draco. He would induct only those into his Inner Circle who are useful and strong. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“That I’m weak.”

Draco’s voice was full of self-loathing. Severus held his eyes and pushed his thoughts out as far as he could. Draco might have enough minor training in Occlumency to catch what he was doing. Think, child, think.

Draco hesitated again, perhaps because the expression on Severus’s face didn’t go exactly along with his words. “But there are other ways I could serve the Dark Lord than becoming a Death Eater,” he said slowly.

“There are.”

“I could be a—researcher?”

“Perhaps. I do recall that you demonstrated some creativity coming up with that song that the Slytherin stands sang during the game with Gryffindor?”

A smirk crawled over Draco’s face, and he perked up. “You think the Dark Lord would need some kind of creativity at his disposal?”

“Of course. Wars are not won in a day, Draco. Those who fight us should be persuaded to stand down if at all possible, instead of encouraged in their defiance. Why not lend your words to the Dark Lord’s cause, instead of your wand?”

Draco was all but vibrating with excitement now. “I could do that. I could do that, sir. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Draco.”

There, Severus thought as he left. Now I have a memory of encouraging Draco to enter the Dark Lord’s service, and my lord is not being encouraged to use a tool that would break in his hand.

Whether Lucius or Narcissa would thank Severus for this remained to be seen, but he had greater concerns in his life than the Malfoys’ opinion of him.

*

“Malfoy seems to think he’s going to head up the Dark Lord’s propaganda department.”

Severus laughed in spite of himself as Harry settled into the chair across from him. “I might have encouraged him to turn his talents in a different direction than becoming a simple Death Eater.”

“And will the Dark Lord like that?”

“The Dark Lord will see the conversation one way in Draco’s mind, and another in mine, but not so differently that he will suspect more than the usual interference of emotion.”

Harry nodded and seemed to forget about Draco in the next moment. “I’ve had a glimpse of one Horcrux in his memories.”

“Have you.” Severus kept his voice flat to hide how fast his heart was beating. From the glinting glance Harry cast at him, he knew anyway.

“Yes. Probably because I can’t use the connection well yet, it tends to stray towards things I find important, rather than, say, the Horcrux he would find most important. And since I spend all my time in Hogwarts most days, that’s what comes up. There’s a Horcrux hidden in Hogwarts, on the seventh floor.”

“Any particular place on the seventh floor?”

“A room filled with rubbish. A large one. That’s the only part that somewhat makes me doubt the memories. Wouldn’t we already know about such a room?”

“Not if it was only there some of the time,” Severus said distantly, memories of his student days and rumors that floated about among the professors coming together with a snap in his mind.

“How can it only be there some of the time?”

“Have you heard of the Room of Requirement, Mr. Potter?” Severus asked, in the lecturing, professorial tone he rarely bothered using with Harry now.

After a moment, Harry began to smile.