Chapter 16

The morning light had barely begun to filter through the tower windows when the door burst open without ceremony. "Rise and shine, Pottah!" Draco Malfoy's voice rang out. You could practically feel the theatrical flair coming off of it.

Severus startled awake instantly. His wand was in his hand within seconds, and his dark eyes flashing with irritation upon discovering that it was his godson. Harry, on the other hand, just groaned and buried his face deeper into the pillows. "Merlin's beard, Draco... five more minutes," he uttered in a muffled voice.

Draco, of course, with his hair perfectly styled so early in the morning, swept into the room as though he owned it. "Good morning, Uncle Sev," he greeted while completely ignoring the wand pointed in his direction. He strode straight to the wardrobe and pulled open the closet doors with a flourish.

Harry peeked out from under the sheets. His hair is sticking up in every direction. "Draco can't this wait!"

"No can do, as your Royal Fashionista, I simply cannot let you go out looking drab."

"Royal Fashionista?" Severus asked aloud, then he turned towards Harry.

"Self-proclaimed, really." Harry stifled a yawn as he sat up. The blanket fell to his hips, and Severus proceeded to yank it up further.

"You made HIM, your Royal Fashionista?!" The Potion master asked with incredulity.

"He's supposed to be my Solicitor, but well... Draco will be Draco."

"Someone has to save you from your tragic taste in robes," Draco replied without missing a beat while pulling out several robes. "It was either my mother or me, and Uncle Sev, you of all people should know how mother gets about fashion."

"Harry, keep Draco as your Fashionista," Severus suddenly stated. "So long as Narcissa Malfoy stays five miles away from my closet. I cannot go through the horror of seventh year again." The Potion master shuddered as if he was remembering something truly horrific.

Harry wondered what had happened in Severus's seventh year, but chose not to ask because the man looked ready to jump out a window while remembering it. Instead, he asked Draco, "Why are you here this early?"

Draco turned with one brow arched. "Because you, dear cousin, have a busy day. Hogwarts inspection at noon, followed by mediation between Ginny and the Minister of Finance."

"What did those two get up to again?"

"She gave him a purple eye after the last meeting when everyone was leaving."

"She what?"

Draco smirked. "Oh yes. Quite the spectacle. The Minister was clutching his face like a wounded hippogriff."

Harry groaned again while dragging the pillow back over his head. "Why do I even get out of bed?"

Draco turned back to the closet, pulling out a set of emerald‑trimmed robes. He opened his mouth to suggest something for Severus, but one look at his godfather's expression, the infamous Snape glare, froze him in place. Draco wisely shut his mouth.

Harry peeked out from under the pillow again, clearly impressed. "I have to learn that glare."

Severus smirked faintly, "It takes years of practice and copious amounts of dunderheads."

"Well, up you get, both of you. The kingdom won't run itself, and fashion waits for no man."

Severus scowled as he tried to wrap one of the blankets around himself, clearly intent on retreating to his adjoining chamber before Draco's commentary could escalate.

"Honestly," Draco drawled, "you can't slink off just yet, Uncle Sev. Don't forget, you have tea with Father this morning."

Severus froze mid‑step, "Tea," he repeated as he tried to remember the appointment.

"Yes, tea," Draco said with a smirk. "And we both know what that means. You two will sit there, sipping Earl Grey, very likely with a hint of gin, and gossiping about everyone else in the castle like a pair of old crones."

Harry snorted into his pillow.

"It is not gossip. It is... a strategic discussion." Severus retorted before huffing. "And we prefer bourbon in our tea, thank you very much. Gin? Honestly."

Draco folded his arms, though he was sporting a smirk. "Strategic discussion about who wore what to the last gala, who's secretly bankrupt, and which noble's wig is sliding off their head. Face it, Uncle Sev, you and Father are the kingdom's worst-kept secret: the gossip duo."

Harry finally sat up with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'd pay good money to hear those conversations."

"You will hear nothing." Severus shot him a look that could curdle milk.

Draco was unfazed and, instead of replying as his godfather left, plucked another robe from the closet and held it up critically. "Now, Harry, emerald trim or silver lining?"

Roughly two hours later, Severus approached the inner courtyard of Slytherin Castle with his usual measured stride. The courtyard was still bathed in a soft morning light. He made his way to the eastern gardens, where there stood an ornate stone gazebo. Within the gazebo, Zippy had already prepared the table. Silver trays were filled with pastries, sugared fruits, and slices of cured meats. A porcelain teapot also steamed gently beside crystal teacups.

Lucius was already seated with his cane resting against the balustrade. He looked up as Severus entered and his lips curled into that familiar smirk.

"Severus," Lucius drawled, "Punctual, as always. I trust Draco didn't harass you too much this morning?"

Severus lowered himself into the chair with a faint huff. "He barged in at dawn, declared himself Harry's 'Royal Fashionista,' and nearly suggested something for me to wear before I reminded him, silently, that I am not his project."

"Ah, the glare." Lucius chuckled. "Draco's respect for it is well-earned. But speaking of respect, or lack thereof, I heard whispers this morning. The Vanes are preparing to bring a case against the Potters."

Severus's brow arched. "On what grounds?"

Lucius leaned back, clearly savoring the scandal. "Fraud. Apparently, James Potter assured them that Romilda's hand in marriage was a done deal. Promises were made, dowries exchanged. Now, with the Potter assets seized, the Vanes are demanding Romilda's dowry be returned, claiming it was given in bad faith."

"Typical. James was always reckless with promises he couldn't keep."

Lucius smirked. "Indeed. And the Vanes are not the only ones stirring trouble. Have you heard about young Weasley? Specifically, Ronald."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "What about him?"

"The boy's a gold digger if I ever saw one. Straight as a broomstick, but he's been trying to seduce His Majesty. Hovering at every event, conveniently appearing wherever the King is. He probably thinks proximity equals opportunity. The other Weasleys are tolerable, as much as I hate to say it. They got where they are through hard work, but that Ronald..." Lucius grumbled in disdain.

"He will learn quickly that Harry is not so easily manipulated."

"So it's Harry already, hmmm?" The blond wagged his brows suggestively.

"It's not..."

"Oh, please, Severus, Harry Potter is exactly your type." Lucius interrupted.

"You've always had a... let's call it a competency kink, old friend. You can't resist someone who is sharp, decisive, and capable. The ones who can walk into a room and command it. And Harry, well, he's grown into precisely that. He listens, he judges fairly, and he doesn't flinch when the weight of the crown presses down. That's what draws you in."

"Don't bother glaring, Severus. I've seen it before. You were never tempted by beauty alone, or charm, or wealth. No, you wanted someone who could match you in intellect, someone who could stand toe‑to‑toe with you in a duel of words or will." Lucius stated knowingly. "If you were just in it for the looks, then you wouldn't have hexed Lockhart out of a window. Do you know how many strings I had to pull with the Board of Governors to sweep it under the table?"

Severus's lips thinned, but he said nothing.

Lucius smirked knowingly as he pulled out a metal flask of bourbon and tipped it into both their cups. "And I know, of course, that this is an arrangement you have with Potter. A marriage of convenience, so to speak. You don't love each other yet. But it will come. Just as it did with Narcissa and me. Affection grows trust me on that."

He lifted his teacup, "You'll wake one morning and realize that the boy has become indispensable. Not because of his fame, not because of his crown, but because he meets you where you are."

"But I digress. We have gotten a bit off topic. Weasley. Be careful. Weasley has a knack for inserting himself where he doesn't belong. He's ambitious in ways his brothers are not."

Lucius leaned in conspiratorially. "Speaking of ambition, did you hear about the Montagues? Their daughter was seen sneaking out of the French ambassador's quarters at dawn. The ambassador is married, of course."

"Are you sure it's the daughter? They are twins after all," Severus pointed out.

"Interesting," Lucius drawled.

"Speaking of scandal, here's another one. You remember Evan Rosier, right? Now that is a tale. He was caught in Vienna, of all places, trying to broker a deal with vampire clans."

"I'm sorry, WHAT?!"

"Apparently, he promised them access to wizarding trade routes in exchange for their support in some hare-brained scheme. Of course, he wound up dead. The Aurors think that Countess Camilla drained him dry for offending her. The Ministry hushed it up to try to preserve Wizard-Vampire relations, but word leaked."

"Rosier always did overestimate his cleverness. Vampires are not pawns to be bought."

"True, and have you heard about the Montagues? The family branch from Oslo? Their eldest siphoned funds from the family vault to pay off gambling debts."

"Nooo..."

"Yessss..."