"When they got to the eighth hole, that Japanese fellow walked into the woods..."
Severus Snape was recounting the joke with theatrical flair, and Vernon roared with laughter, his large palm slapping the table so hard the glasses clinked and rang.
"Oh, heavens!" he gasped between fits of laughter, wiping tears from his eyes, his words broken by chuckles. "You wizards, ha ha, are something else! I'll have to tell that one to the guys at the office."
"Good idea," Snape drawled lazily. "Perhaps you can tell it to your business partners when you become a senior manager." He paused, his lips curving slightly. "Yes, I believe you'll make it."
Vernon's chest puffed up instantly, as though he could already see himself sitting in an executive office.
As Vernon launched into a long monologue about drill sales figures, Snape quietly picked up his fork and poked at the small dead fish on his plate. Its glassy eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, as if questioning the injustice of its fate.
He lifted a bit of bread to his mouth and raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.
"The taste... unexpectedly tolerable," Snape remarked carefully. "Rather like fish pie."
"Isn't it just? I've never quite got used to it myself," Vernon said, waving his hand dismissively, already fully absorbed again in his animated descriptions of how he would crush the competition next quarter.
"Your car is quite impressive, Mr. Dursley." Snape's gaze drifted to the window. He abruptly shifted topics, gesturing toward the sleek black vehicle outside. "A new model from Ford?"
Vernon's words halted at once, but his expression brightened instantly.
"You know cars?" he asked with delight, leaning forward eagerly. "That's right! Picked it up just last month, cost me half a year's bonus!" He launched into a detailed rant about engine capacity and torque, flecks of spit landing on the tablecloth.
Snape nodded at the right intervals, feigning just enough interest, while silently keeping track of the time.
He noticed Petunia's expression beginning to soften. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she looked at her fiancé with a fond smile.
After several rounds of drinks, Vernon's face was as red as the strawberry jam on the table. He suddenly stretched out his thick arm and gave Snape a hearty slap on the shoulder.
"Severus," he slurred, "I thought you'd be... well, stranger. But you're actually normal!"
Petunia immediately pinched his arm.
"Vernon!" she hissed under her breath.
But Snape merely smiled faintly. "It's all right, Petunia." He deliberately used her nickname. "Mr. Dursley only voiced what most people think."
Petunia's lips pressed into a thin line, her gray-brown eyes flickering with conflicting emotions. After a pause, she finally said softly, "I just... never expected that after all these years, you'd be like this today."
"People change for all sorts of reasons," Snape said with a quiet smile. "I suppose I'm not quite as unpleasant as you remember?"
Petunia hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly.
Vernon looked from one to the other, eyes widening. "Wait, you two knew each other before?"
"Yes," Snape replied calmly. "We met when we were about ten. We lived not far apart."
"Well, that's quite the coincidence." Vernon raised his glass and took another deep drink. "Though this is the first time I've ever met people like you. You, uh, wizards, you're not so bad."
"I should offer a word of warning, Petunia, Mr. Dursley." Snape's expression grew serious as he set down his glass and looked at Petunia intently. "Petunia, as you know, not every wizard is as... easy to get along with as I am."
"It's best you avoid contact with them entirely. Though I'm sure you wouldn't seek them out anyway. But if something ever comes up, you can write to me." He added, "Petunia, you know how to write to the school."
Petunia's face instantly changed.
Snape knew exactly what she was thinking, about that letter to Dumbledore, that rejected plea for admission, that unfulfilled longing.
He raised his glass, his black eyes fixed on her. "Let the past stay in the past."
Her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped her napkin.
But at last, she lifted her glass and gently clinked it against his, taking a small sip.
Vernon, unaware of the tension, looked between them in confusion.
"When are you two getting married?" Snape asked suddenly. "I recall you're already engaged."
"This Christmas," Vernon announced proudly. "We've already booked the church."
"Congratulations," Snape said sincerely. "I wish you both happiness."
Vernon and Petunia exchanged a glance. At Petunia's subtle nod, Vernon beamed and said warmly, "Thank you! And if you're free then, you're welcome to come to the wedding."
"Is that so?" Snape said mildly. "Then I'll be sure to attend." He was already considering what sort of gift would be appropriate, something that wouldn't appear too magical.
Just as the atmosphere turned pleasantly comfortable, Snape's peripheral vision caught sight of a familiar, unattractive face outside the restaurant window, Dobby the house-elf.
Those tennis-ball-sized eyes blinked anxiously, and his long ears twitched nervously.
The elf was flailing his arms wildly, first twisting his hands like a snake, then clasping them together as if mimicking something.
"Dobby?" Snape's heart sank; his lips moved silently.
Dobby grew even more frantic. He pointed north, clapped his hands together again, then pointed at himself, his face filled with desperate urgency.
Snape's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Knowing Dobby's peculiar thought process, he truly feared the elf might burst into the restaurant at any moment and do something ridiculous that would turn this pleasant dinner into a disaster.
Under the table, he discreetly drew his wand and conjured a small piece of parchment. On it he wrote: Dobby, do not do anything. Wait outside. I will come to you shortly.
With a flick of his wand, the parchment floated across the floor and out the window. Dobby read it, nodded vigorously to Snape, and disappeared from view.
Snape silently exhaled in relief, he had genuinely feared that his unfinished Stargazing Pie might suddenly float into the air and, with one of Dobby's loud snaps, land squarely on Petunia or Vernon's head.
"What's wrong?" Petunia asked, noticing the sudden tension in his face.
"Nothing," Snape said with a faint smile. "I'm just very glad to see you both today."
Vernon laughed heartily. "And I'm glad to meet you too!"
"My apologies," Snape said after glancing at his watch with feigned surprise. "It's getting late. I should return to the school."
When the bill came, Vernon insisted on paying, and Snape didn't argue, he needed to leave quickly.
At the restaurant entrance, Vernon asked warmly, "Where's your school? Want me to give you a lift?"
"Thank you, but no." Snape shook his head. "You go on ahead. I'll return by wizarding means."
After helping Petunia load Vernon into the back seat, she straightened up, gave Snape a small nod, and climbed into the driver's seat.
Once the Dursleys' black car disappeared into the distance, Snape turned toward the shadows. "Dobby, come out."
The elf's eyes gleamed in the dark. "Master Snape, sir, Dobby had to find you right away, Miss Snake, she-"
"What about Nagini?" Snape demanded.
"Miss Snake doesn't know Dobby anymore!" Dobby's huge eyes were filled with fear. "She looked at Dobby so strangely today, like... like a beast staring at prey! When Dobby brought her food, she suddenly lunged at me! Dobby dodged and came straight to find you, sir!"
Nagini's blood curse had worsened? That was exactly what Snape had feared most. He seized the elf's hand. "Take me to her. Now!"
With a loud crack, they Apparated into the depths of the Forbidden Forest. The darkness hung like heavy drapes, pierced only by the faint glow of Snape's wandlight.
He raised his wand, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Nagini.
But she was gone. Only a long serpentine trail remained on the forest floor, winding deeper into the shadows.
"She went that way!" Dobby pointed into the forest. "Dobby heard noises over there!"
Snape followed the tracks swiftly, Dobby hurrying behind him. His robes tore against the brambles, but he paid them no mind.
The curse is worsening, he thought grimly. The blood curse afflicting Nagini would, he knew, gradually erode all remnants of her humanity until she became nothing but a beast.
He had hoped that if she ate human food and spent time with Dobby, someone who could talk to her, perhaps her condition would stabilize. But clearly, things were deteriorating fast.
Suddenly, the distant sound of horse cries and whistling arrows cut through the night. Snape broke into a run toward the commotion.
"Damn it!" He burst into a clearing, and froze.
Nagini's massive body was coiled around a fallen centaur, her jaws wide open, about to strike. Three other centaurs had their bows drawn, arrows aimed at her.
A broken arrow jutted from her back, dark blood dripping down her scales. The trapped centaur was pale, struggling weakly.
"Stop!" Snape shouted, firing a Bombarda into the air.
The explosion thundered overhead, and the centaurs reared up in alarm, their arrows swinging toward the intruding wizard.
Dobby bravely leapt in front of Snape. "Don't hurt Master Snape!" he squeaked shrilly, sending several centaurs sprawling backward.
Snape conjured a Protego to block the hail of arrows and rushed into the clearing, hissing in Parseltongue, "Release him, Nagini. Come to me."
The giant snake froze. Slowly, she turned her head. Her green slit pupils glimmered with wild hostility.
She hissed, baring her venomous fangs, gleaming with cold light.
Seeing the snake relent, the centaurs lowered their bows and moved to lift their fallen companion.
"Nagini, it's me," Snape continued in Parseltongue. "Do you remember? The Albanian forests? Come here."
Her tail twitched; the pressure of her coils eased slightly.
Snape seized the moment and stepped closer.
"Master Snape, dangerous!" Dobby cried anxiously.
But Snape didn't stop. He reached her side and placed a cautious hand on her scales.
"Let me see your wound," he said in Parseltongue.
Nagini finally released the unconscious centaur completely and slithered to Snape's side. He examined the wound quickly and pulled from his inner pocket a vial of Essence of Dittany and a pain-relief potion.
"Good girl," he murmured softly, then realized the absurdity of the phrase, Nagini was older than his grandmother by decades. "Er... this might sting a bit."
He shook his head, then carefully poured the potion over the area around the embedded arrow, and with a precise Diffindo, cut around the shaft. Nagini writhed in pain but did not strike.
With a swift motion, he pulled the broken arrow free. Nagini let out a sharp, echoing hiss. Snape immediately poured the Essence of Dittany over the wound and murmured a healing charm. Silver light flowed from his wandtip, and the wound began knitting together visibly, her breathing slowly evening out.
Only then did Snape turn to the wary centaurs surrounding them.
The leader stepped forward, his chestnut mane shining under the moonlight.
"Wizard," he said, "that serpent invaded our territory and struck down Bane."
Snape took a steady breath, facing him with calm gravity.
"For what happened tonight, I apologize," he said sincerely. "My companion, Nagini, she is ill, cursed by a vile blood spell that is steadily robbing her of reason."
"Her attack was not intentional trespass, nor deliberate harm, but the act of an uncontrollable instinct. I apologize for the fright and injury to Bane."
He inclined his head respectfully and used his wand to heal the faint wounds of the fallen centaur, watching as the others helped their weakened comrade up.
The leader studied Snape, his eyes deep as the night sky. "Wizard, we have heard your apology. But your 'companion'..." his voice carried an eerie weight of fate, "...is more than just sick. The stars have spoken clearly, she is the embodiment of darkness, a cursed being. Her very existence taints the balance. She must be purified."
"Purified?" Snape's brow furrowed, his tone turning cold.
"Yes!" a younger centaur cried, rearing up, bow raised once more toward Nagini. "Magoris speaks truth! From the moment we saw it, the starlight dimmed! It is an omen of calamity, a claw of shadow! For the peace of the forest and the purity of the stars' design, it must be destroyed!"
"Indeed," another high-cheeked centaur muttered grimly. "That is our duty, to maintain the balance of nature, to cleanse corruption. Apologies cannot change its nature."