Reunions

REUNIONS - Part 5

By Crazy Taxi

Chapter 9

Attica Snape stepped off the spiral staircase that lead to Albus Dumbledore's office, the report of the most recent Death Eater raid in her hand. They had been seen in Hogsmeade the night before, apparently attempting to breach the wards. It was late but Albus wanted it as soon as possible. She walked up to the door and knocked.

"Come in," Albus called from inside.

As she closed the door behind her Albus looked up, suddenly a look of shock came over his face. A man sat with his back to her, she could just see his greying hair over the top of his chair. She stopped, suddenly fearing that she'd walked in on someone who might recognise her. Someone who could link her to Severus.

The man turned and she took half a step back. They looked at each other in silence.

"Remus..."

He didn't move. Attica turned to Dumbledore.

"You haven't told him, have you?"

Albus shook his head.

"Remus I..." Her voice trailed away.

"You're dead." Remus stood. "I went to your funeral."

"Remus sit down," Albus said quietly.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He walked up to her, their eyes level.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Remus, I'll explain." Albus tried to calm him down.

"Really? Well I don't want to hear it. Is this one of your sick jokes?"

"Remus..." Attica cut in.

"...because I'm not fucking laughing!"

"Please let me..."

"You know, I was right about you."

"What?"

"I was stupid to ever trust you."

He brushed passed her and out of the room. The echo of the door-slamming behind him slowly died away.

"Well that went well," Attica said, staring blankly at the floor.

"He didn't mean it."

"Didn't he?" She looked sharply at Dumbledore. "I can hardly blame him."

"But he shouldn't blame you. It was my decision."

"Why did you never tell him?"

Albus sighed quietly. "I didn't see him for four years after Voldemort's fall. When he appeared again he didn't want to talk about anything to do with those times. I didn't want to push him, to make him remember. After that I didn't see him very often and every time I found it more difficult. I couldn't explain why I hadn't told him before."

"But you're Albus Dumbledore, I thought you could explain anything!" she replied bitterly.

"You give me too much credit."

After a moments silence she walked up to his desk and dropped her report on it. Then she turned and left without a word. Albus sat in silence for sometime afterwards, the report lay in front of him. It remained unread.

*****

The next evening, Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk surveying the gathered members of The Order of the Phoenix. Their numbers had thinned somewhat since the old days, and some were not there due to current missions, but this was the first large meeting of the group. At least the room had quietened down now.

Albus had just broken some very surprising news. Some had not been aware that Sirius Black was among them; presumably they thought that Albus had got himself a pet. Calmly, Albus had explained his circumstances and Sirius had resumed human form. There had been some alarm from those who did not know. However that was nothing compared with the second revelation.

Albus had been surprised, and a little relieved, that they hadn't recognised her. Attica Snape had sat quietly in a corner keeping out of the way, although Albus had noticed both Moody and Fletcher casting curious glances at her. Moody, of course, was suspicious of everyone and Fletcher had known her for years. Not a bad disguise then.

When he had finally revealed that she was, in fact, not dead, there had been quite a reaction. Most of them had already known who she was but many gathered here had never trusted her. Moody, in particular was now looking at her as if he thought she might cast a killing curse at him at any moment. Sirius was, predictably, glaring at her; Remus was still ignoring her as he had done since he arrived. Beverly Hall, an auror from the Ministry, was studiously avoiding her eyes while only Linus Fender seemed pleased to see her.

Attica Snape had worked extensively for Linus in the old days and had quickly gained his trust. Albus was greatly relieved when he stood and shook hands with her. So, it seemed, was she.

Arthur Weasley also gave her a sheepish grin, but then again, Arthur was nice to everybody.

Throughout the entire proceedings Severus Snape tried to appear detached, though Albus could see some tell tale signs that he was anything but. Over the years Albus had got very good at discerning his moods despite a lack of outward emotion. From the way he held the glass in his hand and the angle of his head he knew that he was trying hard not to get angry.

Severus, it seemed, had always found it hard to sit by and watch his sister take abuse. It had got him into a lot of trouble as a boy, and might still now if he didn't remain calm. Oddly he didn't seem to mind so much when the angry and suspicious glances were sent his way.

It was all so very unjust. Both of them had done so much for the Order in the past, but most of its members had never been able to get past the fact that they were Snapes and Slytherins. Albus sighed quietly. The tension in the air was almost unbearable.

"Now I think we can get down to business," Albus began, anxious to change the subject. "It seems we have taken care of the Malfoy incident for now, but we must be vigilant. Severus, have you noticed anything unusual recently."

Severus shook his head. "Blaise Zabini came to see me about some homework the other day but I got the impression he wanted to talk to me about something else. He lost his nerve and left I'm afraid."

"I can't imagine what he might want to talk about." The sarcasm in Moody's voice was palpable. "His father's grovelling on his knees right now I suspect. Filthy Slytherin bastard."

Albus saw both Snapes tense slightly, while determinedly staring straight ahead.

"Alistor, please keep your personal opinions to your self, thank you."

Moody muttered something under his breath that Albus didn't hear but Severus obviously did as the whites of his knuckles were beginning to show as he gripped the arm of his chair. Albus thought it might be best to ignore it and move on.

"Linus, how are things coming in London?"

Severus Snape listened to the proceedings as best he could. Most of it didn't concern him directly, though he understood the importance of it all. The problem was that the underlying current in the room was making it very difficult to concentrate.

He couldn't fail to notice the occasional glances sent in his direction from the likes of Black and Moody. He returned them with interest. And then there was Beverly Hall, who seemed to find his presence a personal insult. Damn her to hell as well! Attica for her part was ignoring everybody. She was so much better at that than he'd ever been. Also, of course, she'd endured two years of working with these people so maybe she was used to it by now. Still, it made his blood boil.

They all thought they were so high and mighty, so bloody noble. What the hell did they know? They had no idea what he'd been through, or his sister for that matter. They hadn't betrayed their friends, their family honour and all that crap. Thank god none of their relatives were alive. His father was probably spinning in his grave. Severus sighed quietly, trying to get his breathing under control. In front of him Flitwick was tapping his foot, which was doing nothing to improve his mood. God that man was irritating.

Albus watched discretely. There were, in fact, very few people who could make Severus loose his cool. Otherwise he would have made a poor spy indeed. Ironically they were all sitting here in the room. Sirius and Remus, of course. That went without saying. Moody naturally. And Attica. But then, those closest to us are always the most capable of causing hurt. They'd had bloody duels in the past. Few people ever discovered what had sparked them off, or what made them dissipate so readily.

To Albus' relief the meeting was soon over. Most remained to renew old acquaintances but Severus and Attica left immediately. Unknown to him they headed straight to Severus' room, opened a bottle of whiskey and several hours later they both felt decidedly better.

*****

The next day was Thursday. Harry was in an odd mood. He knew that there'd been a meeting, he'd briefly seen Sirius and Remus the night before, but they had had to dash off just when Harry had decided to finally unburden his soul. He was left desperately wanting to talk to someone. Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione weren't due back till the weekend so there were no obvious candidates.

So he decided to arrive early for his lesson with Escoban. He wasn't sure if he was actually going to talk to her but at least it gave him the option. In the end though, she was a reasonable second choice.

Harry pushed open the door leading into the Dark Arts classroom. He stopped just inside as he heard voices coming from Professor Escoban's office.

"What have you got there then?"

It was the Professor.

"Nothing dangerous," Snape replied.

"Er right...but what's in there?"

"Take a look...if you dare."

Harry was taken back by his tone. It was almost normal. There wasn't the usual underlying threat, there was no hint at malice, just...well, he almost sounded like he was cracking a joke.

"You said it wasn't dangerous," she continued.

"Sure, I said it wasn't dangerous."

After a few moments she spoke again.

"There's nothing there."

"Yes there is. Woodlice."

"What?"

"I said they weren't dangerous."

"God you're infuriating!"

Harry could have sworn he heard a quiet laugh.

"What do you need them for anyway?" she asked.

"I'm going to mash them into a pulp for a potion."

"Well at least you don't do it just for kicks."

"Hmmm, well I'll see you later..." Snape stopped in his tracks as he left the back office. His expression immediately shifted from amusement to his usual sneer. He narrowed his eyes at Harry and stalked passed him out of the room. Harry breathed again.

"Hello there Harry, you're a bit early aren't you?"

"Er....yes. Sorry. Didn't mean to listen in."

"I see. Well, no harm done. Sit yourself down."

Harry had been going to try to talk to her but to cover his embarrassment he sat and got stuck into the lesson. After a few minutes though she stopped him mid-sentence.

"What's on your mind Harry?"

"Nothing."

"Look I can tell you're not concentrating. There's not much point continuing if your mind's elsewhere."

"It's just...I get frustrated sometimes. There are so many things I can't tell my friends so I just don't tell them anything and now I think they're pissed off at me."

"I see. Do they think something's wrong?"

"I suppose. They keep asking me anyway."

"And do you want to tell them about it?"

"I don't know." Harry shrugged. "They're not here anyway, so what's the difference?"

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I think you need to talk to some one you know," she said at last.

Harry looked at her. He still wasn't convinced she was the one to talk to.

"You know, none of this is your fault. Cedric's death, Voldemort's rise. None of it."

"That's easy for you to say, you weren't there."

"True, but that doesn't change the facts. It was just dumb luck. In the end, a lot of life comes down to that. I know you think that Professor Snape and myself are not very alike but you're wrong. It was pure good luck that I didn't end up as a Death Eater, and bad luck that he did. It could so easily have been the other way around. But it wasn't. Look, everyone has done things that they wish they hadn't, you just have to live with them as best you can. Harry, if you blame yourself for every death that will happen during this war, then you'll go insane, and I for one will slap you silly before I let that happen."

Harry smiled a little at that.

"And I would warn against drugs and alcohol, they are merely temporary solutions." It appeared that she was being flippant, but Harry wasn't so sure.

"Oddly enough I'm a good person for you to talk to. I know it's not easy to stand there and watch people you care about die, or make bad decisions, or put themselves in danger, but sometimes that's something you just have to do."

Neither of them had anything to add. Harry felt a little better, he supposed, but it would be a long time before he could come to terms with any of this. Maybe he could go and talk to her though, next time things got too hard for him to handle. Maybe.

"Right, I don't think we're going to get anything useful done this evening so you may as well go."

"Okay. Thanks professor."

"No problem."

*****

Chapter 10

Only about a month later Attica sat at her desk in the Dark Arts classroom staring at the far wall. Severus had been gone less than half an hour and already she had a familiar tightness in her chest and her stomach appeared to be filled with lead. Every time he was called she couldn't help thinking that he was walking straight into a trap.

They had been talking in her office about nothing important when he had grabbed his arm. She'd almost done the same, though she felt nothing. This was not a general call, Voldemort was summoning Severus specifically. In fact, the last time she had felt the mark burn had been June 24^th. She'd been in Beijing. She'd sat bolt upright in bed, clutching her arm and cursing loudly. Immediately she'd owled Albus. She knew what it meant, the Mark had been getting darker all year and they had already been in contact, but she had to make sure. That was when he had offered her the job. She'd taken it without hesitation.

She looked down at the vial in front of her. Albus had asked for it, but she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was a good thing though because it was taking all her will power not to pick it up and turn the small silver latch that held the stopper in place. That, however, would not have been a good move, not good at all.

It looked innocuous enough. Small, plain glass, a simple latch. She swirled the deep red liquid and watched the colours shift. What caused the effect was unclear, this was a very complex potion. The base, of course, was blood. Her brother's blood. She placed it carefully back on the desk.

Remembering something, she stood and walked into the back room. She looked through the shelves for the book she'd mislaid the week before. Noticing another book she'd not seen in months she took it from the shelf and leafed through it. Now, what had she been looking for?

"Er Professor?"

"Harry?" she called into the other room.

"I need to talk to you."

"Hang on a minute." She had found the section she'd wanted so she jotted down the incantation for a particularly effective ward before walking back into the classroom.

"Harry?" She stood for a moment. He wasn't there anymore.

"Have you got that bloody cloak on?"

No reply.

"Harry I..." She stopped abruptly, her eyes scanning her desk.

She frantically scattered the papers and miscellaneous items on her desk but it had gone. The vial had gone.

"Harry?"

Feeling panic rising she ran out of the classroom.

"HARRY!"

A third year stopped and stared as she looked up and down the corridor.

"FUCK!"

The third year's eyes opened wide as the professor tore off in the direction of Dumbledore's office. Taking the stairs three at a time she soon reached the ground floor where she slammed straight into McGonagall.

"Come quickly!" she blurted out as she sped on.

McGonagall stood stock still for a moment before hurrying after her. She was a little out of breath when she made it to the headmaster's office where she found Escoban in a state of extreme agitation.

"Slow down Attica." Dumbledore looked up as Minerva shut the door behind her. "What do you mean Harry's gone?"

"Oh dear god no!" Minerva's hands flew to her face, her eyes wide with fear.

Albus held up a hand to quiet her. "What happened?"

Attica was still breathing heavily but she managed to force out the words. "I was in my classroom...Harry came to see me for some reason...the Loco Sanguis was on my desk...when I came back into the classroom it was gone and...so was Harry."

"And you're sure he hadn't just left."

"I checked."

"We must search the school."

"I'm telling you he isn't here!"

"Still Minerva, see to it. But keep it quiet."

McGonagall nodded but didn't leave. She didn't really want to know the answer to her question but she had to ask.

"Who does it locate?"

Attica stared into the fire. "Severus."

"Dear God, is he away?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"With Voldemort?"

"I don't know. We can only hope not."

*****

The sensation was familiar. He knew he was being taken somewhere, but not by a portkey or Floo Powder. While he didn't enjoy either of those modes of transportation, this was definitely more unpleasant.

The vial in his hand burned. It almost felt as if the blood in his veins was trying to get out of his body. The liquid in the vial had gone black. Before he could consider the implications of all this he came to an abruptly halt.

Blank, stone walls spun around him but he realised soon enough that this was the least of his problems. Standing in front of him, tall and menacing, was a figure in a black cloak and mask.

Harry went for his wand but the man grasped his arm and roughly shoved him across the room and straight into a large, disused fireplace.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Pr...Professor Snape?" He took a step forward.

"Stay as far back as you can." Snape looked warily over his shoulder at the two doors that lead into the room. "What happened?"

"I was in the Dark Arts classroom. There was a vial on the desk." He held it out to show Snape.

"You turned the latch?" Snape asked, menacingly

Harry paused.

"Don't bother to lie, boy. I know how it works. Don't you ever listen to a damned thing anyone tells you?"

As Harry tried to think of a defence his head suddenly exploded with pain. Snape clamped a hand over the boy's mouth, only removing it when Harry had got himself under control.

"Is he in there?" Harry pointed to one of the doors.

Snape nodded. "I'm about to see him. After I come out wait fifteen minutes, then turn the latch on the vial again. If you're about to be discovered use it sooner, we'll have to take our chances in that case."

Harry nodded.

"Do your best to keep out of sight. With any luck no one else will come in here."

"And if he comes out."

"Then we're royally screwed."

Harry's surprise at Snape's turn of phrase was quickly replaced by dread as the door opened. He was relieved to see only a lone Death Eater emerge. He looked a little the worse for wear and hardly acknowledged Snape as he left the room.

"Sir...?"

"Be quiet."

"Couldn't I make myself invisible?" Harry whispered.

"He'd detect the spell."

"Oh."

Snape walked around the room checking how well Harry was concealed. Somewhat satisfied he stood in silence. He needed to quiet his mind before he went in to see Voldemort.

Harry's heart was racing. So many things could go wrong. He flattened himself against the darkened corner of the fireplace and prayed that he would remain undetected. He wracked his brains trying to remember what Professor Figg had taught him. Nothing really seemed to apply. He had no potions, no amulets, and he couldn't cast a spell. After a short while, the door opened. Snape took a long, deep breath and walked inside.

The silence was unbearable. What if another Death Eater came in? What if Voldemort could sense his presence? What if Snape never came out?

He never finished the thought. His head burst with blinding pain once more. He gritted his teeth, willing himself to keep quiet. The pain waned for a moment and then returned with renewed force.

Harry couldn't say how long it lasted, but after a while the searing pain was replaced by a dull ache. Soon after that Snape emerged.

He looked a little shaky as he waited for the door to close behind him. Walking by the fireplace he muttered "Five minutes," before leaving.

Why had he changed the plan? What had gone wrong? Still, he now only had to stand here for five minutes, which improved his odds. So long as nobody came through either door in that time he might be alright.

It was astounding how long five minutes could take.

The only sound was the blood rushing through his ears.

Suddenly the outer door swung open and another Death Eater walked in. Oh shit, surely he would be spotted. But the man walked straight up to the door that lead to Voldemort's chamber and after a moment it opened and he walked in. Harry let out the breath he realised he'd been holding. He looked at his watch. Only three minutes had passed. Would the man reappear? Three and a half minutes. Come on, come on! Four minutes. What's that he could hear? Nothing? Forty more seconds. Would it matter if he didn't wait the whole five minutes? Yes probably. He didn't want to piss Snape off any more than he had done already. Fifteen seconds. Harry slipped the vial out of his cloak and found the same latch he had been fiddling with in Escoban's classroom. Boy, that had been dumb. He looked at his watch and, taking a deep breath, he turned the latch.

The same sensation hit him, but not for long. Before he'd had time to register the feeling he was in another room.

It was dark and windowless. Two cauldrons stood near a long workbench covered in vials, herbs and parchments. The smaller one was bubbling.

"Were you seen?"

Harry spun round, his heart hammering. He shook his head. "N-no. Where are we?"

"Still in the castle. I need to finish some work before I can leave."

Snape shot a sour look at him before taking a large jug and pouring the contents into the large cauldron. Walking up to it Harry could see it was almost full.

"Eat this." Snape handed him what looked like a mass of slimy, grey string.

"Gillyweed?"

"Yes, hurry up," he snapped.

Harry stuffed the weed into his mouth and chewed.

"Now get in."

Snape was pointing at the large cauldron.

"What?"

"It's just water. Get in."

Harry stared at him.

"Stop standing there like the idiot you are and get in!"

Not wanting to incur the wrath of Snape Harry did as he was told. As the gillyweed began to take effect he submerged himself entirely under the water.

Snape took out his wand. "Obscurus translucidus." With that done he relaxed somewhat.

"Now, the gillyweed will last about two hours. You are not to get out. You are not to make a sound. You will stay here until I tell you." Snape glowered into the cauldron. He could not see Harry but he knew he could see him.

"No one will be able to see you in there. Now just relax. Parvus ignis."

Not for the first time Harry wished he'd paid attention in Figg's classics tutorials. Soon though he suspected he knew what the incantation meant. His head shot out above the surface.

"What the...?"

"Get down! It's just a very low fire, for cosmetic effect. Although few things would give me more pleasure than boiling you alive, I feel the Headmaster would frown on it."

Harry was under water again. There was nothing he could do, he'd just have to sit there. It was odd. Even though nobody could see in he had a perfect view out. It was as if the sides of the cauldron weren't there. He supposed Snape thought it would be safer if Harry could see what was going on, in case of an emergency.

The water was actually a very pleasant temperature. He suspected that Snape had not done that on purpose, but it would stop him getting too stiff. It was a pretty tight squeeze inside the cauldron. Harry wondered if he was the first person to have spent time in there. He quickly shook the thought away. That was altogether too morbid.

Snape was busy with the other cauldron, ignoring him now. He was filling small vials with a blue liquid and labelling them. From time to time he'd go to one of the many cupboards and stack the vials on a shelf. After about half an hour he came back to Harry's cauldron and placed something on the desk next to it.

"That's more gillyweed in case you need it. And a potion which reverses its effect. Eat this now."

Snape dropped some gillyweed into the cauldron, which Harry promptly ate. How long was he going to have to be in here?

Snape returned to his work leaving Harry to his thoughts. He was amazed that Snape hadn't laid into him about his stupidity. Still, he was probably waiting till they were safe and then he'd have it. Oh well, he supposed he deserved it. If he'd been Snape he probably would have boiled him alive.

But his thoughts were interrupted when the door to the lab swung open. A Death Eater walked in shoving a boy in front of him. He looked about Harry's age. He wasn't struggling, but he looked terrified. His face was bruised and his clothes bloody. Harry looked on in horror as another figure came into the room and dismissed the Death Eater. He'd seen the man in his dreams for years. White face, red eyes, snake-like features. Harry's stomach lurched as he fought to keep silent.

"My lord?" Snape stood, head bowed.

"Severus, is the potion ready?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then test it." He indicated the young man in front of him.

Snape hesitated for an instant before taking a vial of the blue liquid. He walked passed Voldemort and handed it to the boy.

"Drink it." Voldemort's voice was animated with anticipation.

Despite the boy's obvious reluctance he lifted the potion to his lips and drank.

Immediately the boy clutched at his throat, the vial smashing to the floor. He staggered forwards, dropping to his knees. Hands clawing at his chest and stomach he tried to scream but only a sickening, gurgling sound came. Harry watched in horror as blood streamed from his mouth and nose. He tried to look away but couldn't. The boy was on the floor now, jerking violently, tearing at his face. Harry screwed his eyes shut but he couldn't keep out the noise as the youth flailed on the floor his terrible, strangled cries echoing through the room. Eventually they died away. Did he dare open his eyes? Did he dare not? Did Voldemort know he was there? Had he made a noise? He felt like he was about to throw up. He gritted his teeth until the sensation went away. Slowly he opened his eyes.

Voldemort was looking down at the prone figure, a slight smile on his lips. Snape, on the other hand, had turned a whiter shade of pale and he, too, looked as if he might throw up. He forced his face into an impassive mask before the Dark Lord looked up.

"A pleasing effect Severus."

"Thank you my lord." His voice sounded a little strained.

"Yes, very pleasing." He paused as he walked behind Snape towards the small blue vials.

"Just one thing. I seem to remember asking for a lingering death."

Harry saw Snape's shoulders tense.

"Now that was, what, fourteen, fifteen seconds. Does that seem lingering to you?"

Snape didn't reply.

"Well?"

"My lord, the ingredients..."

"Crucio!"

Harry's head split with pain. Fortunately Voldemort was too intent on Snape to notice a slight ripple in the cauldron beside him. Harry tried desperately to get control of himself. The pain ebbed.

"Severus, you will satisfy my definition of lingering or I will be trying this potion out on you, is that clear?"

"Yes my lord." Snape was on his knees, shaking violently.

"Do not be thinking that you are indispensable to me. You may remember an old student of yours, Stella Parshuk? She has been proving a great asset to me in the brewing of subtle potions."

Snape appeared shocked at the name.

"And you have a long way to go before proving your loyalty to me. I think perhaps that you have forgotten."

"No my lord."

"Crucio."

Harry gritted his teeth as Snape writhed on the floor.

As the pain receded to a spot at the back of Harry's skull Voldemort stood casually turning the blue liquid in front of a flickering candle on the wall. Behind him Snape was trying to get up, but with a flick of Voldemort's wand he was slammed back down on to the stone floor.

"It's very disappointing that you have forgotten so quickly."

Snape suddenly rose from the floor and flew against the far wall. He crumpled into a heap next to the dead youth.

Harry was beginning to panic. Should he do something? Could he? His hand was on his wand, but what chance did he have? He couldn't even breathe out of water and he'd never be able to get to the gillyweed antidote before Voldemort discovered him. He'd just have to sit there and hope to god that he didn't kill Snape.

"Two disappointments today. I trust you have not forgotten our earlier talk."

"No my lord." Snape's voice was barely a whisper.

"Better that you don't."

Voldemort stood, idly examining the nails of his long, white fingers, his lips curled up into a savage smile.

"I wonder sometimes what effect that Muggle-loving fool has had upon you. You haven't been listening to his subversive mutterings have you."

"No my lord, I am yours, always yours." Snape sounded desperate but also horribly convincing.

"So you have said. Still..." Voldemort paused again. "CRUCIO!"

Harry resisted the urge to scream. The pain was intense and this time it didn't stop. He knew he was shaking but he couldn't help himself. All he could focus on was his head splitting open. That, and the sound of his Potions professor screaming himself hoarse. Mercifully, before he completely lost control, he blacked out.

*****

Sirius Black was the last to arrive. He looked around Dumbledore's office at the assembled members of the Order of the Phoenix. It was immediately apparent that something was wrong.

Albus was sitting at his desk looking graver than Sirius could ever remember. Minerva sat opposite chewing at a fingernail. Flitwick stood by the fire anxiously wringing his hands while Sprout sat next to him, her head in her hands. Arabella Figg was pacing behind a long sofa occupied by Mundungus Fletcher and Hagrid who had evidently been crying. Across the room Remus gave him a small, half-hearted smile. The last occupant of the room sat on a hard backed chair slightly apart from the rest. She was staring at the carpet. Sirius studiously ignored her.

"I came as soon as I could." Sirius was a little out of breath. "What's happened?"

Albus looked up and sighed slightly. "I'm afraid Harry is missing."

"What?!" His stomach dropped. "How?"

"Harry accidentally used a Loco Sanguis, it..."

"What the hell's a Loco Sanguis?"

Albus took a breath before continuing. "A Loco Sanguis can transport somebody to within ten feet of a specific person. In this case that person is Severus."

"And where is he?"

"All I know is that earlier today he was called for a meeting with Voldemort..."

"Jesus Christ!"

"...but he may not be there now."

"When did Harry disappear?"

"Three hours ago."

"Then we would have had an owl by now, wouldn't we, if Harry was safe."

"It's hard to say, but I suspect that if Severus was in the position to let us know what has happened he would have done so by now."

"So he's with Voldemort." Sirius was trying hard to keep a lid on the rising feeling of panic mounting through his chest.

"Not necessarily."

"And we have no idea where that is?"

"No."

Sirius was fast losing the battle. Why were they all just sitting here?

"Surely we can do something?"

"Such as what? Sirius, it's best to stay here and wait for news. Even if we knew where Voldemort was we couldn't just charge in. Besides, we have no idea where to launch an attack. I'm afraid we have no choice. However, I am sending Mundungus to London."

"Albus?" Mundungus frowned slightly at the news.

"You have the best contacts. You may hear news. If Voldemort has Harry word could spread fast. At least we must hope so. I've sent an owl to Linus, he'll meet you there."

"Of course. I'll be on my way then." The elderly wizard eased himself off the sofa and bid his companions farewell.

"Albus, how did Harry get hold of a Loco Sanguis? I mean, I've never even heard of one?"

Dumbledore paused a moment before answering. He knew this was likely to cause trouble and had hoped to avoid the question.

"It's mine." Attica beat him to it.

For the first time Sirius looked at her. "And you gave him it?"

"Of course I didn't," she snapped.

"Then how did he..."

"He picked it up and used it while I was out of the room," she replied, sharply.

"So it's his fault now?!"

"I DIDN'T SAY THAT!"

"Attica..." Albus cut in.

"YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT...!" Black shot back.

"Sirius." Remus rose and took a step towards his friend.

"...WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" Sirius' fists were balled up, his hands shaking. All his reserve had gone.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING? DO YOU THINK...?" She was standing now, glaring at Black.

"YOU KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING..."

Remus put a hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Calm down Sirius."

"WELL FUCK YOU BLACK!"

She took another stride towards him but Hagrid had stepped between them.

"SILENCE!!" Dumbledore's voice rang out. In that small room the noise was deafening.

They stood, glaring at each other, but they were silent now.

"Sirius," Albus continued. "I need you to go into Hogsmeade. You never know what you might hear."

Sirius didn't acknowledge him as he glared at Attica.

"Sirius."

His shoulders dropped slightly. "Right, I'm going," he snarled before stalking out of the room.

"Now, if you don't mind, I need a word with Attica."

Slowly they got up, looking from one to another uncertainly. Attica stayed where she was. She'd been expecting that after all.

*****

When consciousness returned it took Harry a moment to remember where he was. Fortunately the gillyweed was still working but he didn't know how long the dose would last. Slowly turning his head he scanned the room. Voldemort was gone. The boy still lay, eyes staring, on the floor and next to him was Snape.

He wasn't moving. Was he dead? Harry could feel panic rising once more when he noticed Snape's hand. It was trembling slightly and then, as he watched, his whole body jerked. He didn't seem to be conscious though. Could Harry revive him? What effect would Enervate have on somebody whose nerves were obviously wrecked? Would Voldemort be able to detect him if he cast a spell? He simply didn't know what to do. So he sat there, miserably watching Snape twitching on the floor. He'd never thought he would ever feel sorry for the old bastard, but he did.

But then he looked at the boy next to him. Snape had done that. He'd made that potion. A potion that could reduce a man to a writhing mass in seconds, the pool of blood under the young man's body was testament to that. Harry felt sick all over again. How could Dumbledore trust him? How could he even look at him knowing what he had done, what he had been? But it was also true that Snape could have given him up to Voldemort at any time. But he hadn't. Harry wondered why?

Harry's thoughts were still spinning when he noticed Snape. He had moved his hands under him and was trying to push himself up. His ragged breaths were the only sound as he shifted onto his side and got out his wand. He summoned a vial from a shelf across the room and gulped it down. After a few seconds he seemed visibly stronger, his eyes scanning the room. Finally they rested on the cauldron, as if he had just remembered who lay within. Looking away again he staggered to his feet and walked towards a small cupboard. He took two more vials from it and downed one of them. Then he walked over to Harry and held out the other.

Harry's head emerged above water, keeping his gills underwater.

"Drink this." Snape gave him the vial, avoiding his eyes.

Harry looked at it, unmoving.

"Drink it!" Snape snapped, his voice almost gone.

Warily Harry opened it and drank. Almost immediately the savage pain in his head reduced to a mild ache. With some relief he slipped under the water again. He didn't know what to say to Snape.

He watched as the Potions master walked around the room somewhat unsteadily. He gathered up the remainder of the vials of blue liquid. He put two into a pocket in his robes and the rest into the cupboard behind Harry. He then stooped to pick up a rolled parchment on the floor that Harry had not noticed before. He put this too into a pocket and then turned to the body on the floor.

"Incendio."

It immediately burst into flames. Once it had been reduced to dust Snape cast a cleaning charm and it was gone. Harry watched, horrified.

"I am going to leave now. You see these?" He held up two glass egg timers. Harry lifted his head clear of the water once more and nodded.

"I'll put this one here." Snape placed one timer next to the cauldron. Oddly, the sand was not running down. "When I turn the other timer the sand will flow. When that happens take the gillyweed antidote and turn the latch on the vial. You still have it?"

Harry felt for the vial in his robe pocket and nodded.

"Good. This shouldn't take long. Keep your head under water and if somebody comes in just stay still. But nobody should, not even Voldemort. But whatever you do, don't open the latch underwater, understood?"

Harry nodded again.

"Bring the timer with you as well. And don't screw this up."

With that he turned and left. The sound of the door slamming echoed through the otherwise silent room. Harry was alone once more. He sat and waited.

*****

Ron found Hermione in the library. That was her solution to any problem; hole herself up in the library. Not that any book could solve this one.

"Anything?" she asked.

Ron shook his head. "They all say he's in quarantine, but it doesn't make sense, he was fine."

"I don't think he's here."

So, Hermione had finally said it. Ron had thought it was just him who'd had the nagging feeling that they were being lied to, but if Hermione thought so too...

"We should get his cloak." She stood suddenly.

"Huh?"

"They say he's in the infirmary. We should go and look."

Ron nodded mutely and followed. Minutes later they were standing in the darkened corridor outside the infirmary. It was late and very quiet. Ron prayed that Madame Pomfrey had gone to bed. The next bit was the most risky. Here was where it could all go wrong.

"Obscurus translucidus."

He'd forgotten about that. Looking through the door it was clear that the room was empty. He carefully pushed the door open and they shuffled inside. It didn't take long to search all the rooms.

"So," Hermione finally said, perched on the end of the bed furthest from the main door, "what do we do now?"

Ron shrugged, the reality of the situation still sinking.

"If he's not here, then where the hell is he?" she added.

Ron shrugged again.

"And if they're lying to us who the hell can we ask? And don't bloody shrug again. Don't you have anything useful to say?"

"Er..."

Hermione glared at him.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know."

"Fine then." Ron sat down heavily on the bed next to her. They sat in silence, neither wanting to voice their fears.

"What if...?"

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't say it."

"I thought you wanted me to ..."

"Well I don't Okay."

Ron shut up. He'd never felt so lost. Dumbledore had lied to them, Harry was missing, and they had nobody to trust. He couldn't think straight. His mind rolled, repeating nonsensical phrases over and over. Hermione reached out and put her hand over his.

*****

Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed. He sat, curled up in the cauldron watching the timer, willing the sand to flow.

Just when he'd started to believe that Snape had decided to leave him there the sand began to trickle downwards. Slowly, Harry poked his head above water. He drank the gillyweed antidote, picked up the timer and took the vial from his pocket. Tentatively, he turned the latch.

Suddenly, he was moving again. The same burning feeling, the uncomfortable impression of his blood seeping out of him overcame him. And then it stopped and he found himself on a narrow road lined by trees. Spinning round he saw Snape leaning against a gate, the other timer in his hand. Harry's legs were beginning to shake. He was in shock, he supposed.

"Come on." Snape took the timer and vial from Harry and began to walk down a path leading off the main road. Cautiously Harry followed. In front of them was an old, ornate iron gate. As he got closer to it Harry suddenly realised something was wrong. He had to get out of there. It was a trap. There was some thing beyond that gate.

"Potter?" Snape was glaring at him.

"No, I'm not going down there." Harry started to back away.

"It's just magic, Potter. Wards to keep people away."

Harry shook his head. "You're working for him, aren't you? You murdered that boy. You blood thirsty, fucking bastard." Harry was screaming now.

"Silence!" Snape hissed stepping towards him. "Come on, it may not be safe here," he added urgently.

When the boy didn't move he grabbed his arm and pulled him through the gate. Harry was surprised at the man's strength given his current condition and Harry's reluctance to go with him. However, on the other side of the gate all the feelings of fear and suspicion left him. He looked up at Snape, puzzled.

"I told you, it's just the wards to protect my house from intruders."

Harry looked up the path. Ahead, passed an expanse of lawn, was a house. It was very large, though there had been no sign of it from the road. Behind it mountains stretched in both directions. It had the look of dilapidated grandeur, as if not much had been spent on it in recent years, but even then it was imposing.

"This is your house?"

"Yes, come on, you're safe here."

Harry followed Snape down the path but they didn't go into the house. Instead they entered a small barn next to what had once been stables. Inside was a spacious cage where a large grey owl sat, absently preening itself. When it saw Snape it became excited, hopping from post to post.

"Hello Erebus." Snape leaned against the cage, stroking the owl's head. Harry noticed that his hand was still shaking.

"Sir, what happened?!"

Harry almost leapt out of his skin as a tiny house elf appeared next to him.

"Mishak, I need a quill and some parchment."

"Of course, sir." The elf promptly disappeared, leaving Harry with the disconcerting feeling that he'd imagined the whole thing.

But moments later, the elf reappeared and handed the requested items to Snape. She was also carrying a number of vials containing a variety of coloured liquids. Snape glanced at them before taking one and gulping it down. Harry got the impression that this was a well-practiced routine.

Snape then took a second one, sipped half of it and handed the rest to Harry. This time he didn't hesitate. He finished it off and noticed immediately how much calmer he felt. He could feel his heart rate decreasing and he realised that he'd begun to shake less violently.

Meanwhile, Snape was hastily scribbling a note. The house elf remained, watching carefully. Harry was rather relieved to see that she didn't look terrified of Snape. She simply looked concerned. Hermione would be pleasantly surprised.

Having completed the note, Snape opened the cage and tied it to the owl's leg. "Dumbledore" he said, and the owl promptly swooped out of the barn and disappeared.

"Would you like a drink, sir, or something to eat?"

"I haven't time." Snape looked at Harry. "Perhaps the boy would like something."

"Er...could I have some butterbeer? And a sandwich?"

"Of course, sir." The house elf bowed slightly.

"In the small library, Mishak," Snape said as he walked out of the barn door.

She nodded and disappeared. Harry hurried after Snape.

At the front door of the house Snape was muttering an incantation. After a moment the door opened and he entered. "Come in then." He sounded rather irritated. Harry thought he'd better not keep him waiting.

The hall was impressive. In the centre was a wide staircase leading up, beside it were four doors and two corridors leading off on either side. To the left a smaller staircase lead down to a basement. Everything looked old and expensive, although somewhat uncared for. Paintings hung on the walls, their subjects mostly asleep. However, one was prowling around a darkened room. Harry looked closer until the figure turned its head. Harry had thought that his professor had the meanest snarl he'd ever seen, however he had now been out done. Snape had taken off down the right hand corridor and Harry hurried to catch up.

Around a corner Snape was standing by a large wooden door. He motioned Harry inside. There he found Mishak with a large mug of butterbeer and a plate heaped with sandwiches. Harry grinned, suddenly realising how hungry he was.

"Mishak, Mr Potter is not to leave this room."

"This is Harry Potter?!" The elf appeared delighted. "So pleased to meet you sir, such an honour. Mishak has heard such a lot..." Her voice tailed off as she caught sight of the look of exasperation and irritation on Snape's face. "Sorry sir."

"As I was saying. He is not to leave this room." He turned to Harry. "Understood?"

Harry nodded.

"I also ask you not to touch anything. You have caused quite enough trouble for one day. I have sent a message to Dumbledore. He should be here soon. I will be back in a few hours if he has not arrived by then."

With that Snape swept out of the room leaving Harry with a house elf and a large number of sandwiches. The elf offered him the plate. Flopping down into a large leather chair he took it and the mug and started to eat.

*****

Remus had decided to go for a walk to ease the growing stiffness he was feeling. He couldn't keep his mind on any one thing so he roamed the castle passing the occasional student scurrying back to the common room for the evening. Soon he found himself in a familiar corridor in the castle. He knocked quietly on the large oak door in front of him.

He could hear music seeping out of the room. Wagner, he noted. He stood for a while, listening, picturing the classroom in his mind. He hadn't been back since the day he'd packed up his things and left his teaching post. The day that Severus Snape had exposed his secret.

Finally he pushed the door open and walked in. Attica Snape was nowhere to be seen. The room was much as he'd pictured it. Odd-looking objects in darkened corners, coloured jars lining the shelves, papers scattered over the desk, books discarded on chairs. He smiled slightly. She'd always been hopelessly untidy.

He walked towards the half-open door that lead to the office, finally catching sight of her sitting in a comfy leather chair in front of the fire. Unmarked essays lay in a pile on the floor, she had a parchment on her knee, quill in hand, but she wasn't working, she was staring into the flames.

"Attica?"

She spun round, a curse on her lips, before realising who it was.

"Shit, Remus, you got a death wish or something?"

Remus stifled a laugh. "Were you going to kill me with that?"

Attica realised she was, in fact, pointing her quill at Lupin's chest, not her wand. She sighed heavily and threw it onto her desk. It missed and skidded across the floor.

"No wonder you never won the Quidditch cup."

She shot him a withering look.

"So, what're you doing?"

"Marking essays."

"Oh, looked more like staring into the fire to me."

"Is there some reason you're here?" She sounded faintly irritated.

"I spoke to Albus the other day."

"Oh."

"He explained...you know."

She nodded.

"I'm sorry about what I said."

"You had good reason."

"Still." He half shrugged. "You know I always want to trust you. You just make it so damned difficult sometimes."

"I do, don't I?" Attica smiled slightly as he took a seat, privately thinking how much older he looked.

"I don't suppose you could take your contact lenses out could you?"

"What?"

"It's a little unsettling."

She did so, putting them into a small vial of fluid.

"I suppose I'm used to my new look so I forget what effect it has on people."

"They are very...er...pale."

She smiled.

"Blonde hair suits you though."

"Sirius didn't think so."

"Since when did you take any notice of what he said?"

"Good point."

Remus paused.

"Do you think you two could possibly call a halt to hostilities?"

"You heard what he said."

"Yes, he reacted badly. But you know how much he cares for Harry. He just flew off the handle. Can't you try to look passed that?"

She thought a moment.

"I spent fourteen years thinking he'd sold me out, blaming him for all the crap that had happened. I think it may take a while." She looked back at the fire. "It was almost a comfort, finally having a watertight reason for hating him. It's not as easy with Peter, I never had particularly strong feelings about him. I'm learning though."

They sat in silence for a while before Attica continued.

"Sirius has said and done too many things for me to be able to completely forgive him. But when I think about it, he's more than paid for any hurtful remark or childhood prank. Twelve years in that place..." She shook her head and then turned to face Remus.

"I'm sorry Albus didn't tell you I was alive. I think perhaps..." She paused. "I was going to say that perhaps you needed a friend back then, but then I don't suppose we were friends at that point were we?"

Remus said nothing.

"Where did you go?" she asked.

"Around," he replied.

"Oh, strange I didn't bump into you then." She smiled a crooked smile. "I went to Buenos Aires first. Outside of Europe, that was about the only place the Death Eaters had ever caused any trouble. After Voldemort's fall the war lost its impetus so I helped them mop up. Then I ran errands for Albus and after a couple of years I came back."

"Where did you live?"

"At home at first, but I couldn't go out much. Occasionally I'd take some Polyjuice Potion and go into London as Severus. That was an experience in itself."

"I thought you were allergic to Polyjuice Potion"

"I'm allergic to Boomslang. Severus modified it to replace most of the Boomslang with Fire Salamander. You have to drink galleons of the stuff and it makes you feel like shit, but I could last five hours before being violently sick."

"Charming."

"Pretty soon I got tired of being cooped up so I went to live in a remote village in the Highlands. Nobody but Muggles for miles, but then I couldn't use any magic in case the ministry spotted it."

"Hang on," Remus interjected. "They couldn't tell when you were at your house?"

She shook her head, smiling. "It was great when we were kids, we never got in trouble for underage magic."

"That explains a few things," Remus said ruefully.

"But it was odd, being so close to all those people I knew yet not being able to see them. In the end it was easier to live abroad. So I travelled, threw myself into research. I visited witchdoctors, voodoo priestesses, faith healers."

"And?"

"I met a lot of fakes. But some were the genuine article. Witches or wizards, they just didn't know it. The power came from the same source anyway, although it tended to be more artefact based. I wrote a lot, learnt new languages. Severus visited in the summer holidays, though not for the last few years. He's been busy chasing rumours of Voldemort and I've spent a lot of time in Mongolia looking for Agharti so I haven't been easy to find. I arrived back on the first day of term." She sighed slightly. "It's been nice these last few months."

Remus nodded. He found it hard to believe that anyone could miss Severus Snape but he supposed she did.

"I did much the same I suppose," said Remus. "Travelled I mean. I didn't want to be around. Everybody was so damned happy."

He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to.

"Is that how you picked up all that Dark Arts stuff? 'Cause you were never that good at it at school."

"Yes," he smiled, glad she'd changed the subject. "I spent a lot of time in some pretty awful places and I guess I learned on the job."

A moment later they both nearly jumped out of their skins as Albus Dumbledore walked out of the fire.

"Sorry I didn't call first but I've had a message from Severus. He's alright and Harry is at your house."

"Did he say what happened?" The relief was evident in her voice.

Remus leant his head back on his chair, the ache in his back miraculously gone.

"No. I think I should get there as soon as possible." Albus turned.

"I'll come too. It'll be easier to get through the wards and I need some things from the house."

"Good, it'll be safe enough. Remus, I don't think you should come though, Severus is not likely to be in a good mood."

"True enough."

"Lock up for me will you?" Attica called over her shoulder as she followed Dumbledore.

"Sure," Remus called out to the empty room.

*****

As he polished off the plate of sandwiches Harry looked around the room he had been confined to. Bookshelves lined three of the walls. He looked at the titles. They were, frankly, innocent enough. He presumed that there must be another library somewhere, one that contained all Snape's illicit books.

Harry took a look at a few pictures that were hanging on the wall between the bookcases. Most of them were extremely old. There was also a Slytherin shield and the Snape family crest. The same silver head of a hawk on a black background that he had seen in Snape's quarters. There was also a picture of a Quidditch match, although he couldn't make out any of the faces as the figures flew through the shot. From the banners he could tell it was Slytherin versus Gryffindor.

Between the two large bay windows was another photograph that caught his attention. In the centre was a tall, painfully thin man. On either side were two children. They looked the same age, about seven or eight. They both had jet-black hair and eyes.

"Hello sir."

Harry jumped as Mishak appeared at his shoulder.

"Would you like anything more to eat?"

"Er....no that's fine, thanks."

"Of course, sir."

"Er, Mishak, is that Professor Snape's father?" He pointed at the dour gentleman in the photograph.

"Yes, Mr Potter. Augustus Snape."

"He looks rather stern."

"He was, sir."

Harry fell silent. He looked at the older man. He didn't look much like his children. He had sandy hair and blue eyes. True, Severus Snape had inherited his over large nose and angular features but the two children looked oddly out of place next to their father. They looked subdued, sad even. Augustus Snape showed no expression at all except to occasionally scowl when one of them fidgeted.

"Where's their mother?"

"That was taken only a short while after she died, sir."

"Oh."

Harry looked around the walls.

"Aren't there any pictures of her?"

"Oh no sir." The elf seemed to think that was a very odd question.

Harry frowned at the elf but decided not to ask any further questions since Mishak had appeared a little uncomfortable answering them.

"Where are we?" Harry changed the subject as he gazed at the magnificent view of mountains at dusk.

"Snowdonia, Mr Potter."

"Wales?"

"Yes, sir."

"It looks rather like Scotland."

"I wouldn't tell the locals that sir."

Harry smiled and Mishak appeared to relax somewhat.

"It's an incredible house. Do you look after it by yourself?"

"Mishak does her best sir."

Harry stared at the mountains rearing up behind the house. It had started to rain.

"Someone's here, sir." Mishak looked up at Harry before disappearing.

Harry's heart rate went up again. Had Snape returned, or was it somebody else? A minute later he heard voices coming from the hall. He tentatively opened the door to listen. To his relief he heard Dumbledore and Attica Snape. He could also hear Mishak and she sounded very excited. Harry shut the door again and waited.

Shortly after the door opened. Dumbledore stood for a moment, framed in the doorway, before entering. His expression was a mixture of relief, concern and anger. Harry wasn't looking forward to his lecture. Mercifully it didn't last long. Dumbledore seemed too happy to see Harry safe to want to spend time berating him. Attica Snape on the other hand looked furious.

"Where is Severus?" she asked quietly.

"He said he'd be back soon."

"And the vial?"

"He's got it."

Attica nodded. "Excuse me for a moment."

Harry was rather relieved when she left.

"Is she very mad?" he asked Dumbledore.

"She'll get over it."

"I really am very sorry," he mumbled. The enormity of what had happened suddenly crashing in on him. He realised he was shaking again. Albus moved to put an arm around him.

"Harry, Harry, Harry. What am I going to do with you?" The old man smiled down at him. "You really have a knack of getting yourself into all sorts of bother."

Harry smiled weakly, fighting the tears he could feel at the corner of his eyes.

He jumped slightly as the door swung open and Attica Snape returned, her scowl barely diminished.

"I'm going to stay if it's all the same with you," she said.

"Of course. Be careful when you come back."

She nodded.

"I'm very sorry professor," Harry blurted out, his voice cracking a little.

She merely frowned, though her eyes seemed to soften somewhat.

Mishak appeared again as Albus stood.

"Can I get you something sir?" she asked Dumbledore.

"No thank you Mishak."

He noticed that she was already holding a tray with a bottle of wine on it. Attica's mood seemed to have suddenly improved.

"Do try to not get too carried away," Albus said, a slight look of disapproval in his eyes.

Attica merely shrugged and sat down as Albus ushered Harry out of the room.

*****

Severus Snape slowly drifted towards consciousness. It was not a pleasant experience.

Everything hurt.

It was easy to forget how old you were until you were hit by a dozen Cruciatus curses, and then...oh yes, he was old alright.

It hadn't been as bad the first time around. He'd been young then and had always bounced back quickly, but he didn't want to go through all that again, not if it made him feel like this in the morning.

He attempted to move and immediately regretted it. Keeping as still as he could he opened his eyes, shit, even my eyelids hurt, and looked up. He recognised the ceiling. He'd spent a lot of time staring at this ceiling, though generally it was due to an over indulgence of alcohol. So, he was in the living room...on a bed...how odd.

He thought back to the day before. Voldemort...Harry...Knockturn Alley...he'd been walking towards the house...oh, yes...he'd collapsed on the lawn hadn't he? He vaguely remembered that Attica had been there. She must have got him inside. Carefully he turned his head.

There she was asleep on the couch. He was glad that she was there. It was unbelievably comforting to have her in the house again after such a long time. Even despite that ridiculous mass of blonde hair, it seemed just like the old days. The two of them passed out in the living room. He almost laughed, and then thought better of it when he felt a twinge in his side. God he'd missed her.

When her eyes finally fluttered open he saw her familiar black irises and smiled.

"Hello there," she said as she swung her legs round. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've had an argument with a troll and a steam roller."

"Ah...breakfast?"

"Not sure...my jaw hurts."

"Mishak."

The house elf quickly appeared.

"Soup I think...and a straw."

Severus glared at her as the elf disappeared.

"So you think this is funny do you?" His voice lacked the usual vehemence, but not from lack of trying. He realised quickly however, that she didn't think it was funny at all. He couldn't remember when he'd seen her look more concerned in fact. She didn't reply however, simply folding her blanket and hanging it over a chair.

"Thank you by the way," he said finally.

"For what?"

"For making me a half decent bed. You didn't transfigure it did you? I'd hate to think it'll grown its legs back any minute."

She glared at him, but there was amusement in her eyes.

"You're welcome, you sarcastic bastard."

He smirked at her. Yes, he'd definitely hit a few nerves this morning.

"Where's Potter?" he asked.

"Back at Hogwarts. Albus and I came to get him as soon as we got your message."

"Hmm. Not very bright giving him your Loco Sanguis."

"I didn't give him...oh for Merlin's sake. Even in this state you are the most infuriating person I know."

"Thank you."

Fortunately Mishak arrived and insisted that Severus eat immediately, which shut him up. Attica sat pensively staring out of the window. It was raining again.

"You don't have to keep doing this you know," she said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"You could leave...with me."

Severus thought about that for a moment. "Are you leaving?"

"Not without you...although it would be safer for you if I did."

"True...but..." His voice trailed away.

"Yes, who would you have to torment if I left? Oh, only everybody." She stared at him pointedly. "You could try being a bit nicer you know."

"You did and look where that got you."

It was a familiar argument, one that neither of them ever won.

"Anyway, don't try to change the subject," he continued. "Are you thinking about leaving?"

"I'm always thinking about it. I have a lot of friends overseas. We could go anywhere. I could get my fucking life back."

"But we could never return."

"No...probably not."

"Great."

"Well, it can't be worse than this!"

Severus had no reply for that. In many ways she was right, it would be so much simpler if they just left but...

"I can't leave."

"Oh for fuck's sake. If you haven't paid him back by now you never will." She sounded truly angry now.

"It's not about that."

"Oh isn't it? You just can't take the old man's guilt trips."

"Oh and you were always so good at handling those!"

"We're not talking about me."

"Really."

"Yes, really. You just love playing the martyr, so you..."

"How dare you accuse me of that? You think I like this? You think I enjoy going back to that? You think I want to make potions that'll burn your insides out? Do you think I like the way the rest of those sanctimonious bastards look at me!?" His rant turned into a coughing fit.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly once he'd stopped. "I won't ask again."

He nodded still trying to catch his breath.

"It's just...well, do you think I enjoy this?" She sighed heavily. "I don't want to go through this again Severus. It was bad enough last time. I'm not sure I can do it again."

"Do you think I can? Look at me!" He gave her a slight, wry smile.

Sensing a truce she sat on the bed, gently taking hold of his hand. He winced slightly.

"Jeez, you're pathetic." She was smiling now. "What d'you want? A potion? Or shall I pop downstairs."

Severus smiled and nodded at the last suggestion.

"You haven't drunk it all have you?"

"No, I think you'll find you were the one with the drink problem."

She shot him a withering look before disappearing off to find a bottle of their finest cognac.

*****

Four days later Harry opened the door to Professor Escoban's office and found her sitting at her desk marking papers. She looked up and motioned towards a chair in front of her.

"Sit down Harry."

Her tone was serious. She'd been distant in the Dark Arts lesson the day before. Harry had rather been dreading this meeting.

"We need to talk." She leant forward leaning her elbows on the table. "There are many people working very hard to keep you safe Harry. People who put their lives on the line every day."

She paused, fixing him with a piercing stare.

"But you seem to think you are above it all. You seem to think that because you have faced Lord Voldemort and survived that, somehow, you live a charmed life. Well, with all due respect, you have been lucky but you can't always rely on that luck holding out. You go out into the grounds at night, you leave Hogwarts to see Sirius, you come into my classroom and pick up a vial you know nothing about..." Her voice was rising in volume. She paused to regain control.

"I know you feel responsible for Cedric's death, I know you feel it's your fault that Voldemort has risen again. But ironically these are two things that you could do nothing about. However, your actions this term have shown you to be arrogant and, above all, stupid. I don't know why Voldemort came after your parents, I don't know why you are important, but the fact is, you are. And you'd better start acting like it. Is that clear?"

"Yes professor. I'm sorry."

She regarded him for a moment, her expression softening somewhat.

"I know you are. Now, I have to mark these and I'm in no mood for a lesson today. Next time I see you this is over, behind us, understood?"

Harry nodded.

"Get back to your dorm then."

As Harry stood there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she snapped.

The door opened to reveal Remus Lupin.

"Hello there Harry."

"Hello," Harry replied, a little subdued.

Remus gave him a questioning look.

"Goodnight professors." Harry didn't fancy being lectured by both of them. Remus had been none too thrilled by his escapade either.

Remus watched as the young man left.

"So, how hard were you on him?" he finally asked.

"Not very."

"By whose standards?"

She didn't reply.

"You know Attica, I think he actually likes you."

Attica fixed Remus with what she hoped was a penetrating glare.

"You've mellowed," he continued.

"You think?"

"I think."

He thought he caught the vaguest hint of a smile. "I think you're right," she replied.

"Your brother hasn't."

"Well, ironically being forced into exile for fifteen years probably did me a favour." She didn't bother to hide the bitterness in her voice.

Remus didn't reply. She had a point.

"You saw the others' reactions. I fucking died and it doesn't mean shit."

Remus nodded, again she was right for the most part.

"Anyway, fuck 'em, that's what I say." She finished the last dregs of her cold coffee.

Remus smiled slightly. "God you sound like an American sometimes."

She smiled despite of herself.

"What did you do over there anyway?"

"Got a PhD."

"What?"

"Yup. You can call me doctor." She smiled wickedly.

"Hang on a minute. Don't you need a degree to do that?"

"Technically yes."

"Technically?"

"Well, they seemed impressed with my first from Oxford."

Remus blinked. "Which you faked."

"Er..."

"You are unbelievable!"

"What, you really expect me to actually do the degree?!" She sounded shocked.

"But you did the PhD?"

"Of course! It was fascinating."

Remus narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his next question. "And what was it in?"

"Forensic medicine."

Remus stared.

"You know...crime scenes."

"Sounds rather morbid."

"Totally."

To his surprise Remus found he was laughing. After all, what did he expect her to study, art history?

"You know, you say you mellowed because you got away from all of us?" he finally said.

"In a way."

"...And lived with the Muggles..."

"I'm not sure I like where this is going."

"...So am I right in thinking..."

"Bog off Remus," she retorted good-naturedly.

"I'm just saying, maybe they're not all bad?"

Attica shot him a withering look.

"Oh, I just remembered. Have you ever tried these?" She changed the subject.

She pulled something out of her robes. It was a small pink bag. It rattled when she shook it.

"I discovered these when I lived in Magnolia Crescent. An undisputedly brilliant Muggle invention. I missed them terribly when I left Britain so I made sure I stocked up when I got back." She pointed at the pile of brown boxes behind her. Several of them had fallen from the cardboard mountain and lay haphazardly around her office.

Remus was none the wiser.

"Have you ever heard of crisps?" she asked.

"Er...yes"

She opened the pack and took one out. Remus frowned slightly as she put it in her mouth and appeared to be transported to Nirvana as she crunched it loudly.

"These, my friend, are the Dark Arts of the crisp world," she said at last. "They are so artificial that you positively know they're bad for you." She offered him the pack.

"And they are?" Remus asked as he took a crisp.

"Prawn cocktail," she said with a flourish.

"Er."

"Prawns...with a cocktail. I don't know which. Bloody Mary, I assume from the taste. Anyway, they're bloody amazing!"

Taking a bite he knew what she meant. It felt as if a sudden assault had been mounted against his tongue. Previously unknown taste buds on the roof of his mouth were springing to life. They were singing...so were his ears.

"See what I mean?"

He nodded mutely as he stuffed another in his mouth.

"Fancy a game of chess?" he asked after a moment.

Attica sighed. "Sure."

She opened a bottle of wine as Remus got the board ready. Maybe things were looking up.