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The dungeons of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are unseasonably cold. However, the chill running down Heir Lucius Malfoy’s spine might be a mixture of excitement and unease. His hands clench tightly around the parchment in his grasp, wrinkling the plans that he sealed earlier with ice-blue wax, his signet ring, and a spark of his magic.
A hint of dread swirls through Lucius. Chances are high that this won’t go as he hopes, despite his best efforts and sincerity. After all, he heard Miss Severina Snape herself say, “After what my mother did, I’m not worthy of bonding into an Attributed House,” to Miss Lily Evans last month.
Despite Miss Evans’ instant reply of, “I think you mean that most of the members of the Attributed Houses aren’t worthy of you, Sev,” Lucius knows it didn’t stop Severina from refusing an offer of courtship from Master Rabastan Lestrange.
The relief that Lucius felt upon learning of her refusal was immense—so much so that it was frightening.
In a way, as someone who’s proud of his heritage, of being the Heir of the Vigilant and Most Ancient House of Malfoy, Lucius can understand why Severina thinks the way she does. After all, her mother, Lady Eileen Prince, was in the line of succession for the Innovative House of Prince when Lady Eileen, for some mad, unknown reason, chose to marry a Muggle—of all ridiculous things.
Severina should have been born at the Prince Barony. She should have been named at the ancestral wardstone in ritual. She should have access to the Prince family magic and wealth. Her rightful title by birth should be “Lady”, as her mother before her.
Instead, from what he’s gathered over the years, Severina was born in a Muggle hospital and was raised in the Muggle World. She doesn’t have access to family magic and, given the state of her belongings, her father provides very poorly for her. She, like Miss Evans, spent years earning the right to be recognized as a New Blood, which, upon achievement, granted her the title of “Miss”.
Lucius has always believed that she would wear the title “Lady” well. The only way it will ever be hers, after her mother’s atrocious behavior, is if Severina bonds with a Lord, or similarly titled member of the nobility.
Lady Severina, Heiress of the Vigilant and Most Ancient House of Malfoy, sounds sublime to him.
Securing the love of a Malfoy is no mean feat. Severina has managed it with aplomb.
“I will offer her a place in pureblood society,” Lucius states as he loosens his grasp on the parchment. “I will elevate her to an even higher sphere than the one into which she should have been born.”
It’s a cruel irony that Severina is breathtakingly innovative while she’s denied access to the magical legacy that should have been her birthright. She has created several spells—including a particularly vicious defensive curse that’s sheer brilliance—and many potions as well.
If Lady Eileen Prince had bonded wisely, Severina would be a treasure of her bloodline. Instead, she’s a prodigal New Blood.
“That she’s risen so high from such humble beginnings is impressive,” Lucius says. He means to help her rise even higher.
Lucius smooths his robes, eyes the parchment one final time—silently praying that Severina will understand the full depths of his commitment to her by forgoing the traditional first courting gift offered by members of the Vigilant and Most Ancient House of Malfoy—and knocks on the door to the small classroom in the dungeons where Miss Evans and Severina frequently meet.
The door swings open after several moments to reveal Miss Lily Evans, her green eyes bright, her voice full of aggravation as she hisses, “Sod off, Po—” Her mouth snaps shut. She flushes rubicund. “My apologies, Heir Malfoy,” Lily says as she curtsies, “I thought you were…”
“Heir Potter,” Lucius finishes for her when she doesn’t, amused.
“Yes,” Lily replies. “How may I help you?”
Lucius bows briefly and taps the parchment against the palm of his other hand. He knew that Miss Evans would be here, of course. It’s part of his plan. It wouldn’t be proper for him to meet with Severina in private. And given that he’s come to offer her a courtship, it would be inexcusably crass to present it without an appropriate chaperone being present.
“I require a witness, Miss Evans,” Lucius states less imperiously than he usually would.
Miss Evans is Severina’s dearest friend. He knows that the two witches have been acquainted with one another since early childhood. It is highly unlikely that anything will ever succeed in parting them from one another. Having Severina as his lady-wife—assuming she doesn’t refuse him as she refused Master Lestrange—will necessitate a lifetime spent in Miss Evans’ company.
He knows that Miss Evans values Severina highly. If fortune smiles upon him, perhaps she will encourage Severina to accept his suit.
“I would be honored to stand as a witness,” Lily replies with a grin. It makes her pretty features even more pleasant. Yet, it pales in comparison to the rare treasure that is a genuine smile from Miss Severina Snape.
When Lucius enters the room, Severina stands from her seat beside a small table bearing a tea set. She curtsies in her secondhand robes, her fair skin a stark contrast to the intense black of her hair and eyes.
“Heir Malfoy,” Severina greets. The absence of a sneer on her face is a victory in itself, as is the lack of distaste in her voice.
“Miss Snape,” Lucius says after bowing, “it would please me greatly if you would accept this as a first courtship gift and token of my affection.” He offers her the sealed parchment in his hand.
Severina’s lips pinch as an eyebrow rises. “How … untraditional.”
It is. All of pureblood society knows that it’s traditional for members of the Vigilant and Most Ancient House of Malfoy to offer a pendant necklace as a first courtship gift. Rarely ever do Malfoys stray from established tradition. However, this is a special circumstance. It is an attempt to prove his sincerity, understanding, and appreciation of Severina as an individual.
Between this custom gift and a necklace, there’s no question which she would value more.
“Quite,” Lucius replies.
It is still a gamble, though—a dangerous one. Miss Severina Snape is an exceptionally proud witch. Sometimes, Lucius can’t help but wonder if pride in herself and her accomplishments is all she possesses that didn’t once belong to another. As such, it’s possible that, even despite his diligence in preparing the gift, she might find offense in not being offered a pendant necklace as his ancestors have offered their beloveds for centuries.
If he’s erred, Lucius doubts she will ever allow him another chance to—
Severina takes the parchment, peels the seal open with one of her fingernails—unlacquered, as always, and shorter than most witches prefer theirs; he’s heard her state several times that longer nails inhibit proper preparation of potion ingredients and the dangers of even a minuscule chip of lacquer falling into a potion—and then raises both of her eyebrows as she intently inspects his courtship gift.
Lucius attempts to calm his heart from its frantic racing, but he isn’t successful.
“Is this”—Severina raises her piercing black eyes from the parchment—“truly for me?”
“If such is your desire, yes,” Lucius replies.
He spent weeks corresponding with a magical architect via owl post to produce the plans in her grasp. Certain he would have a single chance to prove his belief in her worthiness to be his lady-wife, the Heiress of the Vigilant and Most Ancient House of Malfoy, the Countess of the Silver Isle, Lucius knew his first courtship gift must impress her.
The potions laboratory depicted in the plans, to be built upon her acceptance of his courtship, is even finer than those boasted by the Honorable and Most Ancient House of Potter and their familial potions empire.
Lucius intends to spare no expense in showing Severina precisely how highly he values her.
“Sev?” Lily asks, walking to her friend’s side after Severina observes him keenly for several minutes in silence.
Each minute without a response feels eternal. Yet, Lucius silently rejoices that she didn’t immediately reject him. Perhaps, just perhaps, she might—
“Oh, Sev!” Lily gasps, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she avidly stares at the parchment detailing the plans. She lowers her voice and whispers, “You are not your mother. You deserve this.” She gently wraps her right hand around Severina’s thin wrist. “Your mother has taken your past from you. Don’t allow her to steal your future as well.”
The words hit Lucius like a Bludgeoning Hex to the chest. He can only speculate on how harshly they hit Severina.
Severina folds the plans shut, brushes her thumb against his personal seal set in ice-blue wax, and offers Lucius a tiny, genuine smile. “Very well, Heir Malfoy, I accept.”
Tremendously satisfied, Lucius kisses the back of her hand, unable to tear his gaze away from her countenance. If Fate is kind, he will both fall asleep and awaken to this sight every night and day for the rest of his life.
Lucius can imagine no greater blessing than that.