There is a hierarchy of families: the Best Families (yours, the Malfoys, the Zabinis), the Lesser Families (the Crabbes, perhaps, or the Weasleys, or the Bones, the ones with blood, but no money) and the Others.

The Others: those who mix their blood with the lower orders. Those who fail to play by the unwritten laws of your culture. Those who got caught.

The Blacks are one of the Other Families; so are the Lupins. The Pettigrews, half-bloods for five generations now, barely even qualify for that label.

The Muggle-born do not signify in your father's world.

The Snapes are a Lesser Family, rapidly sliding towards the status of Other. A little matter of certain poisons being discovered in their house, rumours of Dark magic, embarrassing gambling debts, money owed to the Minister.

Your father could, perhaps, help them. If he chooses.

Your father doesn't know that you saved Severus Snape's life a year ago. He would smile, and rumple your hair, and say, "I knew you'd be good for something, James."

He expects you to create alliances and networks at Hogwarts, and in creating this debt, you have exceeded expectations.

And he does have high expectations.

You have no plans to tell him.

Your family's parties are the stuff of legend in rarefied circles. This Christmas, your mother has outdone herself. She is an elegant hostess, a silent, smiling counterpoint to your father's powerful presence.

Naturally, your friends were not invited.

You linger on the landing, your best robes itching and uncomfortable, as the guests arrive. Soon, your mother will summon you downstairs: the eldest son (the only son, remember, no one talks about your brother, who never even made it to Hogwarts) making his parents proud.

The Minister will laugh and bring his daughter forward, and you will dutifully flirt with her. Narcissa will smile, because you can make her laugh, and because she knows who and what your real girlfriend is.

You watch from above as Lucius Malfoy says something charming to your mother. You are about to descend voluntarily when the Snapes enter.

Julius is bluffing it out, shaking hands with the Minister and smiling at your parents. It is his wife and son who bear the tension: in her restless fingers, in his darting eyes.

He sees you on the landing, and looks away.

You saved his life, once.

He's never forgiven you.  >> next chapter >>