Narcissa Malfoy wore a finely tailored Muggle dress, her golden hair meticulously swept up, her figure blending seamlessly into the dim light.
Just as Snape was about to approach, a man in a garish floral shirt and slicked-back hair swaggered up with a drink in hand. Leaning casually on Narcissa's table, he smiled what he must have thought was a charming grin.
Snape moved closer, silent as a shadow.
"I'm waiting for someone," Narcissa's cold, disdainful voice cut through the noise. "Leave."
The man, clearly tipsy and overconfident, didn't take the hint. "Aw, don't be so frosty, sweetheart. Drinking alone's no fun-"
Before he could finish, Snape pulled out the chair opposite Narcissa and sat down heavily. His face, that of a plump, plain-looking Muggle, was utterly unremarkable as he stared at the glass on the table.
"Need a hand?" he asked evenly.
The would-be suitor blinked, taken aback, then frowned. He looked Snape up and down, his pride pricked. "Hey, mate! I was talking to-"
But then he caught the glacial fury in Narcissa's ice-blue eyes, contempt so pure it made both men look like vermin to her.
Under the table, her hand moved subtly. A faint glimmer of light flickered and vanished. Snape immediately felt the brush of a weak magical pulse sweep over him and the man beside him.
The man's anger melted away, replaced by confusion. He blinked, disoriented, as though he'd forgotten why he was there. He glanced at Narcissa's cold face, then at Snape's doughy, forgettable one. His expression faltered into bewilderment and retreat.
Without a word, he turned around, stumbled toward the door, and disappeared into the noise of the street outside.
Snape's head felt briefly heavy, but he shook it off easily.
"What's this, then?" he asked dryly, looking at her. "Is this how the Malfoys greet their old friends now? You'd think you were dying to let Tom know you lost that precious diary of his."
At the familiar tone, Narcissa froze mid-motion, her wand-hand stilled. Her eyes widened as she studied the strange, pudgy face across from her.
"Severus?" she murmured, frowning. "Why in Merlin's name did you make yourself look like that?"
"I'm not here for a date, Narcissa," Snape said coolly. Her insult barely registered.
He drew his wand and tapped the air; a shimmer of magic enclosed their small table, cutting them off from the rest of the pub.
"Well," he said, leaning forward slightly, "let's get to it. You wanted this meeting, what's so important?"
"Severus," Narcissa's voice dropped lower, urgent, "the diary. Where is it now?"
"The diary?" Snape reclined in his chair, lazily examining the ashtray. "Oh, that." He set it down again. "Gone. We got rid of it."
He watched the flurry of emotions cross her face, terror, relief, and an undercurrent of dread.
"Destroyed?" Her voice was brittle. It took her several seconds to compose herself, though her fingers on the wineglass were still white with tension. "You've found a way to destroy... that sort of thing?"
"Of course." Snape's tone remained flat. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a gleaming silver dagger, laying it lightly on the table. Even in the dim light, the blade glimmered coldly.
"This little beauty works wonders," he said with meaning.
Narcissa's eyes lingered on the weapon before meeting his gaze again. "How many of those things have you found?" she asked. "And have they all been dealt with?"
"Narcissa," Snape's voice hardened, "enough questions. You didn't risk this meeting just to chat. What do you want?"
"I want..." She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself. "I need your help."
Snape waited silently.
"I want you to take Regulus away," she said in a low, intense voice. "Take him to your side, and protect him."
Snape raised an eyebrow, a faint, mocking smile curving his altered lips.
"Did I hear that right, Narcissa?" he drawled. "You want me", he gestured at his Muggle disguise, "to smuggle a loyal Death Eater aboard a ship full of Muggle-borns and fugitives? Maybe your drink's stronger than you thought."
Though he already suspected something serious had happened with Regulus, indulging a Malfoy's plea without leverage was never wise.
A flicker of anger crossed Narcissa's face, but she mastered it quickly. After scanning the room again, she leaned closer. "Regulus has changed his mind."
"Changed his mind?" Snape echoed, feigning surprise. "Isn't he supposed to be the model Slytherin pure-blood? Following orders, keeping up appearances?"
"Since the Dark Lord..." Narcissa's voice faltered at the name, her body stiffening. "Since he took over the castle, senior students, especially pure-bloods, are being encouraged, or rather forced, to join Death Eater missions."
"Regulus signed up eagerly at first," she continued, her expression shadowed. "But he's too young, Severus. The reality of what they do, the torture, the killing, terrified him. It's nothing like the noble pure-blood crusade he imagined."
Her voice softened with anguish. "When I last saw him at Grimmauld Place, he was gaunt, hollow-eyed, afraid of the next summons."
She sighed, defeated. "You and I both know there's no resignation letter for a Death Eater. Once you swear allegiance, it ends one of two ways: servitude or death."
"Oh, I'm well aware," Snape said dryly. "And what about Orion and Walburga Black? How do they feel about it?"
"They're worried too," Narcissa admitted, tracing the rim of her glass. "And frightened. The Dark Lord's actions are growing more... unrestrained."
Then her eyes lit faintly with hope. "If you'd take Regulus, they could come too. They'd follow him, if your people would accept them."
"Hold it right there." Snape raised a hand sharply. "I haven't agreed to take Regulus, much less his delightful parents."
He shuddered theatrically. "I'd rather not have the whole ship woken at dawn by Walburga Black screaming 'Mudbloods! Filth! Abominations!' She'd be trussed up and tossed overboard before breakfast."
Narcissa choked on an involuntary laugh, her face flushing red. "You... you sound like you've met her."
"Do I need to?" Snape sneered. "You pure-bloods are nothing if not predictable. Same script, same slurs. I could write her dialogue myself."
Narcissa's jaw tightened; insult flashed in her eyes. But remembering her position, she forced herself to calm.
"Severus," she said quietly, "what will it take? What do you want, to ensure Regulus's safety?"
Snape leaned back, studying her.
"Aren't you afraid, Narcissa?" he asked softly. "That one day, our 'rebellious ship' might be sunk by your master, and take your dear brother with it?"
She met his gaze steadily. "The night of the Ministry attack, everyone heard what happened," she said. "Arthur Weasley was so traumatized he's still recovering at home. And rumor has it," she added meaningfully,
"that people have started calling your group something new, no longer 'mutinous monsters,' but 'the Exiles of Hogwarts.' The tide is turning."
Snape laughed, a sharp, genuine sound. "Narcissa, the Malfoys came from France, didn't they?"
"Yes," she said cautiously. "Our ancestor, Armand Malfoy, came to England with William the Conqueror in the eleventh century."
"Figures," Snape muttered, smirking, but Narcissa pressed on.
"There's something else," she said after a pause. "A piece of information your people will find valuable."
Snape's attention sharpened.
"Recently, the Lestrange family lost the Dark Lord's favor," Narcissa continued. "Because of some mission failure, something critical, though I don't know what. After that..." She hesitated, gauging him. "Lucius, my husband, was granted nearly all of the Dark Lord's trust and new assignments."
Her voice, however, held no pride, only anxiety.
"The Dark Lord has requested access to our Gringotts vault," she said quietly. "He didn't explain what for, but we were told to be ready to receive something for storage." Her eyes locked on his. "I think that's worth something to you, isn't it?"
Snape straightened.
Voldemort using the Malfoy vault to hide something? That could only mean one thing. Another Horcrux, hidden where he deemed safest.
"If that's true," Snape murmured, "then between the diary and this... your family's quite the trusted favorite. Congratulations, Narcissa."
She gave a brittle smile. "If only the diary were still in our possession," she said softly. "But..." She didn't finish.
She didn't need to. The implication was clear. With the diary gone and a new object bound for their vault, the Malfoys were sitting on a ticking bomb.
"A shame," Snape said smoothly. "If it weren't destroyed, you might still be trying to bargain for its return, to win back your master's approval."
Narcissa lowered her eyes, lashes trembling. She didn't answer. She didn't have to.
"Fine." Snape tapped the table lightly, breaking the silence. "That's useful information. Now tell me, how do you plan to get young Master Regulus to me? And when can you take me on a little tour of the Malfoy vault?"
"The item hasn't been delivered yet," she replied cautiously. "We've only been told to prepare. We don't know when, or what, it is." She hesitated. "Perhaps once it's in place, and we know for certain... we can go then?"
"For now, that'll do." Snape nodded after a brief pause.
"Good." Narcissa exhaled, tension easing from her shoulders. "Then tomorrow, same time, in the alley beside this pub. I'll bring Regulus."
..
Author's Note (for referrence):
J.K. Rowling and the Live Chat, Bloomsbury.com, July 30, 2007 (2.00–3.00pm BST)
Hayleyhaha: Why did Regulus have a change of heart?
J.K. Rowling: He was not prepared for the reality of life as a Death Eater. It was Voldemort's attempted murder of Kreacher that really turned him.