From Spark to Flame

Chapter Three: The Best Laid Plans...

"There have been more calls from The Quibbler and The Daily Prophet," Hawk said on entering Paidea's office, the tall young man all business while he frowned at his clipboard of notes. "The WWN would like you to appear on Witch Affairs at primetime tonight, but failing an interview, they'd like a statement touching on the attack. The expected thing -- who you believe is behind it, what it means for you personally, and how you see this affecting your campaign...the usual thing," he reeled off, waving his hand. "Sooner we get that out the better; get them off your back for the moment."

Seating himself in front of her desk, he glanced across at the blood stained cloak resting on the bureau nearby, eyeing it with distaste. "When we have that done, I'll send it out by owl...and then Scourgify that blood out of your cloak," he pronounced, lowering his head and making yet another note.

Paidea, deep in contemplation and standing by the fireplace with her arms folded, turned as he mentioned the cloak. Crossing the room to finger the rich material, she regarded it thoughtfully. "Forget about the cloak, Hawk, it's not important. In fact, I'd rather the stain remained. It's a clear reminder to me of everything I've worked for...and the cost in innocent blood should we not find a way out of this mess our society has got itself into."

Her hand moved unconsciously back to the locket at her throat, a pensive look on her face. A few moments of silence passed before she turned to her assistant and gave him a small smile. "Eight years." A hint of wonder tinged her voice. "I haven't seen him in eight years and he pops out of the blue to save my life...again! Severus," she said fondly, her thoughts obviously nostalgic. "I should invite him for dinner...catch up. It has been too long."

Hawk watched her, his brow creasing at her affectionate attitude to the teen. "Perhaps, if you have time," he reminded her, causing her to re-emerge from her childhood memories into reality.

"Of course." She nodded, crossing back to her seat. "The statement. Give me half an hour, Hawk, and then arrange for it to be sent out -- but not to that girl Rita at The Daily Prophet. She...well, I don't trust her or her motives." Pulling open a drawer, she retrieved a scroll to begin composing.

"There is one more thing, I'm afraid," her aide informed her quietly, his manner indicating he knew she wouldn't be pleased. "The Minister would like you to join the emergency committee after the debriefing on today's events. There is almost no doubt that they will be insisting on vastly increased security for you after this."

"And quite right too," a deep and commanding voice commented from the doorway before Paidea could react.

Perifanius Abernathy was nothing so much as imposing -- a tall, muscular man with steel grey hair, eyes that were the mirror of his daughter's, elegantly dressed in robes that accentuated both his tanned complexion and trim figure. He carried himself with the air of one who would excel in every field that he ventured into, which...for the most part...was true. But it was concern, not confidence that emanated from him now.

Reining in a sigh, Paidea looked up from her writing to give her father a smile of greeting, though her words were to her aide. "Hawk, please inform the Minister that I will be glad to meet with her when she is finished," she said, rising to her feet and crossing over to Perifanius. "Hello, Father. You're early...please sit down. Would you care for a cup of tea?" she enquired, kissing his cheek.

"That'll be quite enough of that," he told her sternly, laying a hand on Hawk's shoulder as the young man made his way past both father and daughter. "You will not attempt to make light of this to me, Paidea. There will be time enough for tea and the like when you and I are safely at home." Perifanius turned his gaze to her assistant. "Inform the Minister that Counsellor Abernathy will indeed be disposed to talk with her...but in the safe environs of our family residence. Miss Abernathy will be travelling there directly, and I will follow on with the Minister once this debriefing is over."

Hawk hesitated, glancing from the man who had hired him to the woman he worked for.

"No." Her word was firm, simple, and to the point. "I'm sorry, Father, but I will not be returning home. I have a job to do and I intend to do it. Please follow my instructions, Hawk," she told him, her tone brooking no argument. Resuming her seat, she picked up her quill and commenced writing once more. "My work is important, Father," she continued, "as you well know. And I will not falter simply because there are some who do not agree with me."

"Do not agree with you?" he scoffed, deliberately standing in Hawk's way. "Paidea, they are trying to kill you! The Death Eaters have made you their target. They have killed two people and may have killed a Muggle to boot! No." He shook his head. "This has gone far enough, young lady. Your mother and your sister were frantic with worry to me over the Floo. They are just as adamant that you come home to the safety of our residence. They want you there, as do I. You have made your point and stood your ground, but you can do no good if you are dead! It is time to pull your horns in and find a different path. Discretion is the better part of valour."

She rose up slowly, her face stony though her eyes were blazing. "You are my father and I love you, and I am, of course, sorry to worry you and my mother and sister, but do not think you can address me as though I were still a child at your knee! I have a job...no, a responsibility to the people to finish what I have started. And you would have me give up now? After people have given their lives so that I may proceed in what is right? Would you have their deaths become meaningless? I will not. I will not retire from my duty nor will I bow down to hate and terror. I am sorry that this grieves you, but my mind is made up." And with that she turned, sat back down, and took up her writing once more. "Hawk...that message will not deliver itself."

Her aide regarded the august impediment between him and the door -- a presence that still wasn't moving.

"Paidea...be reasonable!" Perifanius retorted, somewhat taken aback. "You are more than just a diplomat now. You are a mouthpiece for people who feel as you do. They need you to stay alive. You cannot keep putting yourself out there like this; sooner or later they will succeed! You cannot count on luck, or however it was you managed to get out of this attack!"

"And if I were to back down, what would that be saying about me or my cause, Father? I believe in this." Her eyes met his, though she did not move from her chair. "If I were to simply walk away, what would that say about my convictions or my ideals? I started this with full awareness of what it may mean to me and my life...and I will see it through to its conclusion, good or no.

"People are listening and looking to me to set an example. If we want a unified, peaceful world, there must be those willing to put themselves and their lives out there to show it can be so. I will not cave to cowards, Death Eaters, nor 'He Who...'" She paused. "Voldemort himself!"

The silence was almost deafening, the three of them barely able to believe she'd just spoken the dark wizard's name. Paidea swallowed slowly, shocked at her own audacity, part of her waiting for the Dark Lord himself to come bursting through the door. Straightening her shoulders, however, she continued coolly, "I will not give up. I will not surrender what is important and vital to us as a people. I will not shirk from my duty to them."

"No...." Perifanius snapped, "nor from reckless self-endangerment either, it seems. The very fact that you have chosen to speak His name just to make some kind of a point proves it to me! Paidea, you are being a fool! And you are going to get yourself killed!" He glared at Hawk as if he were somehow complicit in his daughter's foolhardy rebellion. "Very well!" He stepped aside, clearing the way for the younger man to leave. "Have it your way. Die for your ideals." Opening the door, he pointed for Hawk to leave, which the younger man did with great alacrity.

Slamming the door behind him, her father stalked to her desk and leaned on it. "I hope that it's a comfort to you when you go to sleep at night, thinking on the worry you're causing your family." He spun away from her, folding his arms. "This was not what I intended for you, Paidea...not at all!" A moment later, his broad shoulders sloped, his head dipping as the worry and fear that had been gnawing at him since the threats and attacks had begun got the better of him.

On seeing his reaction, his daughter's planned retort died in her throat. Putting her quill down once more, Paidea rose to her feet. Crossing over to him, she placed a hand softly on his arm. "Father...it does hurt that I worry you all so. But your intentions or no, I am a grown woman walking a path that is now of my own choosing. And sometimes one must do what is right instead of what is easy. I love you all very much...but I must do this...even though I do sleep less than I should each night."

It took him a moment to raise his head and look at her, his eyes meeting hers, weighing and evaluating. "It appears there is a great deal too much of you in me, Paidea Abernathy. Then I went and compounded the error by training you to stand on your two feet far too well." He shook his head slowly in resignation. "So be it. But I won't stop fighting for your safety," he warned her. "I am going to this meeting and will have words with Millicent and Bartemius to that end."

Turning to her, he laid his hands upon her shoulders. "You lack the Abernathy height, but you carry yourself well, and despite my wish that you leave and come home, I am and will always be proud of you." Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her to him and held her. "You will always be my little girl, you know. No matter how far you climb, no matter what you achieve, and no matter how much you rail against it. And I am more grateful than you will ever know that you somehow escaped this alive and well."

She held him in return, allowing herself a moment to be that little girl again and take comfort and safety from her father's arms. "I'm sure you'll meet my rescuer again at the meeting. Knowing Millicent, she'll want an in depth and in person report with everyone around so she won't have to repeat herself too much," she told him with a chuckle, glancing at the clock on the wall. "And speaking of which...you're late."

Looking up, he nodded as he released her. "Yes...I had best go. What's this rescuer's name, by the way?"

Paidea smiled, her fingers reaching up to play with her locket. "Severus," she pronounced, eager to see his surprised reaction.

"I'm sorry....who?" Her father's brow creased a little.

She sighed, barely refraining from rolling her eyes. "Severus Snape, Father? The young man...well, he was only a boy then, who saved me during the attack eight years ago in Diagon Alley? The one whose treatment you paid for?"

"What?" he said, clearly startled. "What was he doing here? And more to the point, what was the boy doing with you?"

She arched an eyebrow at him. "I don't know why he's here, Father. But I'm very glad he was." Her smile reformed on her lips as a finger traced over the engraved P on her locket. "He's a little taller than you now, you know."

Perifanius took in the small smile on her lips and the way she was fingering that locket she always wore...the one it suddenly occurred to him had been given to her by the boy. "Just how tall?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Hmm?" She looked over at him and on seeing his expression, snorted lightly with laughter at where his mind had wandered to. "Oh Father...he's still a boy! He must be...what...seventeen? He has probably not even started his last year in school. I hardly have time for a social life with a man of my own age, so cradle robbing is entirely too much effort." She waved him away with another chuckle.

Her father joined her after a moment. "Well...I shall be happy to reward him. As I recall coming from that destitute Muggle background he did, he'll probably be exceptionally grateful for it. Give him a leg up, heh?" he pronounced with more than a certain amount of pomposity as he opened the door. "I shall see you later. We shall have dinner together, yes?"

"That would be wonderful. I'm sure Elly will delight in the chance to make your favourite dishes again." Giving him another smile before her father left, she moved back to her desk, pushing thoughts of heroic teenagers with fathomless dark eyes, over-protective fathers, and life-ending explosions from her mind so as to concentrate on her statement.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Thank you for the very concise report, Mr. Snape," said Millicent Bagnold from her seat at the head of the long oak committee table. The appreciative smile on her lips showed how refreshing she found it for someone so young to give such an articulate and succinct recounting, not to mention what the teenager had managed to do. Turning her attentions to the Auror sitting across from the black haired, freshly cleaned teen, she arched an eyebrow. "And what did you find of our assassin when you searched the site, Dawlish?"

"A man in black robes...though there wasn't much left of him," the young man replied. "Immediate identification will be near impossible, but he did have the Dark Mark. We found it tattooed on his arm plain as day." He cleared his throat slightly. "When we found his arm, that is."

The sound of several sharp inhales resounded in the quiet of the room -- some of them coming from the assistants of those present who were seated along the sides of the council chamber as they took notes.

"It's hardly that surprising, is it?" Snape said, speaking again rather unexpectedly. When all heads turned back to him, he regarded them steadily. "Given the death threats the Counsellor has been receiving, who else would you expect to find there?"

"Precisely so, young man." Perifanius Abernathy swept into the room with his assistant, a young woman with pince nez perched precariously on her nose trailing behind him. "And given the escalation of said death threats into out and out assassination attempts, I would like to know what this assembly is intending to do to protect the life of my daughter!" he demanded, sitting down and looking directly at the Minister.

"That is one of the matters that we will be discussing momentarily, I assure you, Perifanius," the leader of Britain's Wizarding world replied, her keen eyes meeting his without flinching and her voice cool and calm. "We are not taking this incident at all lightly." She turned her gaze to the man on her left hand side. "Mr. Crouch, what else have your Aurors found?"

The middle-aged man's face was like a thundercloud. "There were the remains of a Reflectus," he said of the banned two way communication and espionage device based on Floo magic that allowed the speakers to interact or see what was going on elsewhere. "Which means someone else was watching the street from a distance, most probably giving the orders. It is ruined beyond any chance of repair and there's no way we can ascertain either where the signal was coming from or what that last message would be. I would imagine, however, that it was the signal to open fire..." Simmering with barely controlled fury at the loss of his two Aurors, Crouch slowly sat forward.

"Both of our people were, naturally, hit by the Killing Curse." His eyes turned to Perifanius slowly as if in accusation. "The Muggle had his legs burned to cinders, no doubt in the hope of a slow, agonising death. As our people were not allowed to respond in kind," he emphasised, "there was no way for them to take him out."

"As I heard it," Perifanius responded coolly, though clearly irked at Crouch's reasoning, "it was not so much a matter of them being under armed, but rather that they simply couldn't see the attacker in question. And yet this boy could..." He glanced at Snape then back at Crouch, pausing before speaking again. "With all due respect to Mr. Crouch, might I suggest that perhaps the fault lay in their training and ability rather than the spells they have been given?"

Crouch's eye twitched. "What?" he growled as the tension in the room suddenly ratcheted up dangerously. "How dare you, sir," he snarled. "Two of my best people are dead in the line of their duty protecting your daughter and you dare suggest to me the fault lay with them and their..."

"It wasn't training and it wasn't a case of the wrong spells, he was using a muffling spell," Snape reminded everyone present, speaking out calmly once more and keeping his gaze on his headmaster, who nodded approvingly. "He had covered the flash of the magic leaving the wand, but forgot to take into account the mirror in the room and the resulting Speculum Effect."

"Speculum Effect?" repeated Hezekiah Butler, his bright eyes gleaming at the boy. "I see your understanding of magic is as good as your ability to use it, young Mr. Snape. The reflective and modulating effect of mirrors upon magic is advanced final year theory -- you've been doing some significant reading, I see."

"Enough that I understand what went wrong." Snape inclined his head a little.

"Understanding or not," said Satersley as he gazed at his colleagues, the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department present due to the use of a taxi cab as a bomb, "we were damn lucky the mirror was there to allow him to be seen."

Snape frowned a little at that and looked at his uncle, but on seeing Steven nod in agreement, said nothing.

Perifianius, however, had plenty to say. "Minister, there is time to sift through the who and what of what occurred. While I have great respect for those who died defending my daughter, I do not appreciate this being turned into an opportunity for Bartemius Crouch to advance his agenda on the subject of Aurors and the use of the Unforgivable Curses!" He inhaled slowly, keeping his composure. "The dead are dead and we must honour and grieve for them. But my daughter, the subject of this attack, still lives, and I demand that her safety be put to the top of our agenda now."

"Might I suggest..." Dumbledore, seated on the right-hand side of the Minister, interjected, his voice soft but full of authority, "that for the moment, we put aside any personal agendas and focus on the issues at hand. Mr. Crouch will have his opportunity to present his case soon enough as, thankfully...will Counsellor Abernathy. And though I agree with Perifanius that we must deal with the personal security of the Counsellor as our prime issue, we must get to the bottom of this attack, or more precisely how it came about. That tunnel entrance to the Ministry is known only to Aurors...and a few others who are high enough to have clearance to access it."

There was silence for a moment. A silence that was full of a thought many people were having but few wanted to speak of, especially given the preponderance of Aurors and representatives of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement seated around the table. In the end, however, it was an Auror who finally voiced the thought.

"We must consider that perhaps we have a leak," Steven said, hesitant at first, knowing he was venturing into unpopular territory. "Only we knew where the Counsellor was going to be, when, and how she was getting there." His eyes met the Minister's. "We have a mole in the Department, ma'am."

"Mr. Prince," the deep, resonant voice of legendary Auror, Cadmus Hornsby, Hero of the Grindelwald War and Order of Merlin First Class, addressed his former student at the Auror training academy, "do you know what it is that you are suggesting?"

Snape turned his eyes to the monster of a man seated further down the table from him. At six feet five inches and powerfully built, despite his advancing age and white hair, Cadmus was still a handsome and trim man in the full flush of health. The kind of man who had always attracted attention even at an early age, he now inspired a kind of awe and deference in all other Aurors. His feats of magic, daring, and ingenuity were legendary, and during the war with Grindelwald, he had been second only to Dumbledore in the acclaim given to him. He was an Auror through and through, and even Snape, who was not given to hero worshipping the Aurors like his fellow Hogwarts students, admitted to a fillip at sitting across from so imposing a figure.

Cadmus laid one brawny arm upon the table, the golden bracer emblazoned with an eagle upon it catching the light in the room. "You know the training that Aurors go through. The testing, both mental and physical. Only the best of the best are allowed to pass into our ranks. And those that lead us in the Department are either Aurors themselves or above suspicion in every way possible, thanks to the testing they face on a constant basis. Are you seriously suggesting that a Death Eater has permeated our ranks?"

Steven gazed back at his mentor, a little uncomfortable at coming into conflict with Cadmus and his green eyes showing that he was a more than aware of what he was saying...and that he didn't like it. Yet he remained resolute all the same. "I think we are all loathe to think it could happen, but it is possible that someone -- perhaps not an Auror, perhaps someone simply working in the office -- is at the very least passing information on. Sympathisers do as much damage as actual converts to 'You Know Who's' cause."

"There is also the Imperius Curse to consider..." Millicent Bagnold added.

"Aurors are well trained in its resistance. And all those on active duty go through periodic re-evaluation, so it would show!" Hornsby insisted, a large finger tapping the table for emphasis.

Satersley sighed from where he sat next to Perifanius. "That does reduce the chances it's an Auror," he agreed, "but it does not mean they are immune. Nor does it reduce the chance that it's a member of the Departmental staff."

"I know my people," Barty Crouch snapped. "I trust them all."

"And we are all glad to hear it," said Dumbledore. "But perhaps, given the circumstances, we should take a leaf from the Aurors' books and begin to check all Ministry members for evidence of the Imperius curse. Beginning with the Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement staff..." He smiled placatingly. "Merely as a show of intent course -- no admission of guilt."

"I'm not convinced that this had to have come from inside the Ministry." Cadmus shook his head. "Not convinced at all." Gesturing behind him to where the various assistants sat, the Auror beckoned forth a tall, very handsome man with neatly coiffed brown shoulder length hair. "Do you have those papers, Nicholas?" he asked him.

"Yes sir," Nicholas Fleetwood answered in a quiet mellifluous voice as he moved forward, his chocolate brown eyes looking respectfully around the table. Opening a folder, he pulled out a sheaf of cuttings.

Taking them with his thanks, Cadmus turned back to the assembly and one by one tossed the headlines about the day's hearing upon the table.

"Is it really that hard to see how this might have happened?" he asked them, pointing to the plethora of headlines and editorials from the past few days on the upcoming hearing on extending the Aurors' powers. "The media are being given far too much access to what is going on within the Ministry!

"There are only a few entrances in and out of the Ministry -- the Floo network obviously, which I would urge you to check in case it has been tampered with. The second entrance is, of course, the phone box on the street," he pointed out. "Our assassin was placed in a house just up the way from that phone box. None of the buildings directly by the phone box are empty, but the house in which the assassin took up his position was.

"Have you ladies and gentlemen considered that he was but one Death Eater located around the place assigned to cover that phone box on the chance Perifanius's daughter would use it? Even given that you have to walk down an alley from the street to get to the tunnel entrance, in my view it was an absolutely disastrous decision to bring that girl in through a secret entrance that bloody close to the phone entrance!" he railed.

"The phone entrance was almost certainly going to be watched..." He tapped the newspapers forcefully. "Especially when virtually the entire wizarding world knew when and where this hearing was going to take place! If you want to know of a dangerous leak, then look no further. It is this administration's insistence on being open to the point of foolhardiness with the press and the public."

He looked towards Millicent. "Madam Minister...we are on the verge of a civil war. We must impose secrecy upon all Ministry dealings from this point forward. Minimal information. For the safety of our people we must restrict information. The public must be kept from knowing details of what is going on at high levels. Information is a weapon. A strong weapon...it controls belief..." He closed his fist tightly. "For the safety of our people we must control that information. Of all kinds."

"You are dangerously close to asking that we keep our people in the dark, Cadmus," she said, her voice sad but calm. "And that is something I will not do. There is already enough fear and misinformation spread about; I won't add to the confusion further by shutting down those lines of communication. But I do agree that we must be more vigilant and confidential about top level meetings and events. This hearing, when it reconvenes, will be somewhere else, and it will be need-to-know only. And considering those who wish to speak are all Ministry officials, that shouldn't be a problem."

She inhaled slowly. "We also do have quite the situation with Counsellor Abernathy. It is clear that these assassins, Death Eaters or no, are not going to stop until they have achieved their goal. Therefore...I suggest...we make the Counsellor's whereabouts need-to-know as well."

"You wish to put her into hiding," Hezekiah interjected. "She will not like that one bit...especially now."

"She will have to do as she is ordered," the Minister replied firmly. "Paidea can be intensely stubborn...but she will do her duty. Especially if the Ministry orders her to."

"I would be reluctant to bet my life on that supposition," the low voice of the teen still at the table cut through the momentary silence as he sat, head bowed and arms folded.

There was silence for a moment before Perifanius spoke up, a slight edge to his voice. "Would you indeed, Master Snape?"

The young man raised his head. "I mean no disrespect to your daughter, sir. But she is notoriously stubborn just as the Minister says...her track record speaks for itself," he answered, drawing on his years of reading about her. "In fact, she has been so from an early age...as you will recall, defying her parents was not beyond her even then."

Unfortunately, given what had just occurred in his daughter's office, now was not the time for Perifanius to be reminded, no matter how subtly, of his daughter's tendency towards defiance of her parents, and he reacted sharply. "She was foolish then...and she is being foolish now. If the Minister orders her, she will go. Especially if this council is unanimous on it. Childish behaviour is just that, Mr. Snape, and something we all have to grow out of it...something that will no doubt occur to you too in time."

Snape's eyes went flat and cold almost immediately, but before he could retort, Perifanius turned back to the woman at the head of the table. "I would have her returned to her family's custody, Minister," he formally requested. "Our residential compound is easily defendable and very secure. With extra Aurors, we could make it virtually impregnable."

"I would venture to disagree, Minister," Dumbledore said after a moment's silence. "That will be the first place that an assassin will look for her." He stroked his long grey beard slowly, his eyes far away. "No...I would suggest somewhere as far removed from London and from our world as we can. Somewhere where no one will think to find her."

"Dumbledore's right," Cadmus agreed, joined in his assessment by Steven, Dawlish, and even Crouch.

Millicent gave a brisk nod as well. "I concur. The fewer of us who know her location the better. She'll need a guard, of course...two if we can spare it. Both to keep her safe from any attacks...and..." A small knowing smile lit upon her lips. "To keep her from her own pigheadedness."

"Two guards? That's insanity! Did you people not see what happened today?" Perifanius exclaimed, aghast, before rising to his feet. "Are you trying to get my daughter killed?"

Daphne Willowby nodded slowly and looked to her friend's father. "I feel they may be right. Too many people knowing makes her not only a sitting duck but also increases the chance of a leak. The fewer the better is the best policy...but I would recommend a Portkey or two be placed there for evacuation as well an alarm."

Steven inclined his head in agreement. "In fact, Minister, Chief Warlock, it would probably be for the best that neither of you know as well. Perhaps one, but not both."

"Sit down, Perifanius," Cadmus addressed the still standing anxious father. "Deep down, you know it makes sense. If we hide her away and control the information on her whereabouts..." his eyes glanced pointedly back to Millicent, "in line with my suggestions, then we reduce the chances of a repeat of today's disastrous events. Secrecy is the key to keeping her safe." Perifanius, outvoted on all sides, sank back down into his seat as Crouch's deputy continued, "My suggestion would be that the Chief Warlock be allowed to choose his people and her location. No one can doubt Albus's loyalty..." He smiled at his old ally. "Or his somewhat eccentric deviousness."

Millicent gave a quick nod of agreement. "I concur. Albus?"

The old wizard's head bobbed slowly, his normally sparkling blue eyes deep in thought. "Two should be unobtrusive enough. Bartemius, who would you suggest?"

Crouch steepled his fingers, his expression pensive. "Whichever pair you choose, I would say they have to be loyal without question. Considering secrecy is key, an amount of cunning is most definitely required, as is the ability to think and act fast...talented and with highly honed skills obviously...and finally..." He scowled somewhat, glancing towards the elder Abernathy. "Considering the subject they'll be looking after, people who are capable of being firm in the face of exceptional obtuseness!" He turned back to Dumbledore. "I can compile a list of suitable names for you, if you like."

"Thank you, Bartemius, that would be most kind." The elderly wizard's eyes took in those gathered around as the Minister spoke up.

"Very well, then it's decided. I will speak to Counsellor Abernathy after we adjourn and let her know what decisions we have reached. Then she and her two escorts will depart immediately to wherever they deem it safe to keep her until such time as we have uncovered the events leading up to this attack, or that circumstances show that it is safe for her to return.

"The Chief Warlock will appoint who shall go with her and act as Secret Keeper to their location." She paused, her displeasure at sending one of her top diplomats away just when she might be needed showing clear in her expression. "I hope for this to be only a temporary measure, ladies and gentlemen. I want any existing breach culled and the culprits found....yesterday. Is that clear?"

Cadmus's voice was low and serious as he answered her, "It's clear, Millicent. But I remind you, no breach within the Ministry has yet been ascertained. That is, beyond the seemingly never ending need for Ministry staff to gossip to the press. Which, quite frankly, those of us not concerned with re-election or political careers all know is maintained only to try and keep the public onside while the Death Eaters move about them actively recruiting.

"Something the Aurors...every one of them..." he nodded towards Steven, "are unhappy with. Start with controlling your information, Madam Minister -- that will get you results. Then, and only then, start a campaign of misinformation within certain sections of the Ministry. If you find that information leaking out...then you will know there is a breach. But I warn you, ladies and gentleman, don't start a Death Eater hunt through the ranks of the Aurors. The results will not do them or the Ministry any good at all."

Around the table, Bartemius, Dawlish, and even Steven appeared to be in agreement with the elder man's sentiments, along with one or two others. It was clear the subject was once again going to be divisive.

"It seems..." Millicent said with a resigned air, "that this meeting shall run for a while yet. Very well. Bartemius, would you take Albus to your office and give him your list of preferred names, then return to us. Albus, use his office to peruse your choices and when you have arrived at a conclusion, let Bartemius's secretary know and she will send us a message. I shall then inform the counsellor of our decision, and your choices may implement whatever plan you have come up with."

"Of course, Minister." Dumbledore rose from his seat, along with Crouch.

Millicent turned her head to Steven and his nephew. "Mr. Prince, Mr. Snape...thank you for your report. We are grateful for your attendance here. Now please...take young Severus here for a rest and a good meal; he has more than earned it. Wouldn't you say, Albus?"

"Most certainly." Dumbledore regarded Snape with a smile. "Holidays it may be, but you have done the school proud, Severus. I do believe Slytherin may start the year with some significant house points in the bank."

As uncle and nephew rose, Snape inclined his head. "Thank you, Headmaster."

"Not at all, Severus...thank you. An excellent job, young man, eh Perifanius?" the elderly wizard called back as he moved towards the door.

Perifanius, unhappy at the way things were running, was somewhat shocked out of his own thoughts. "What? Oh...oh yes..." he said reluctantly, Snape's remarks not endearing the teen to him and removing the inclination to do more for him. "He did his duty as an Auror would. Well done. You have our thanks once again. I'm sure the notoriety will be of great advantage to you in whatever future career you choose," he said dismissively before returning to his thoughts, making it clear to everyone that that notoriety and his family's thanks were enough reward for anyone in his estimation.

Patting Snape on the shoulder, Dumbledore smiled at him as the four men exited before further comment could be made. Once outside the door, Steven gave his superiors a respectful incline of his head. "With your permission, sirs, I'm going to take my nephew over to The Leaky Cauldron for something to eat. He's lost a bit of blood today and needs the bolster."

The elderly wizard gave them both a beaming smile as the stuffy, overly neat man next to him nodded. "Very good, Prince." And with a quick turn of his heel, Crouch moved off swiftly down the hallway, Dumbledore next to him and from the sound of it, trying to engage him in discussion about the merits of sherbet lemons as medicinal agents.

With an amused shake of his head, Steven turned to his nephew. "Let's get some food in you," he said with a small smile as they began their walk to the elevators.

"Are we going back to your home afterwards?" Snape enquired, touching his bandaged neck lightly.

The Auror nodded, rubbing his upper lip with his knuckle absently and his gaze still fixed in deep thought. "Yes...you should get some rest once we've gotten some food into you. I think some of Tom's beef stew is in order." Shaking his head, he gave his nephew a wide smile as he hit the elevator button. "Your mum would be jolly pleased with you, Severus. You handled yourself like a natural in there...which is less than I can say for Perifanius Abernathy." He gave a light snort as they walked into the awaiting lift. "But never mind him. Our role in this matter is over...now on to the spoils. Stew and pints for all!" he declared with a clap and rub of his hands as the lift doors shut.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Snape entered the by now familiar surrounds of The Leaky Cauldron and headed inexorably towards the removed booth in the darkened corner he always claimed whenever it was free. Sliding himself in, he ignored Steven's look at the secluded position he had taken up and picked up the menu.

He supposed his uncle would assume he was being reclusive again, and to a point that was part of it -- his own company was something he was most comfortable with, after all. But it was more than that. This spot was the best one to observe all the comings and goings of this hub of Diagon Alley. To observe and not be seen to be doing so.

It was almost entertaining to watch the unexpected liaisons, arguments, and trysts that went on here. And from time to time, one could pick up some useful information about what others were up to.

Perusing the menu, he decided upon the vegetable broth. Like the meat variety his uncle was intent upon, it was more stew than broth, but it was the best and lightest thing on the pub's menu. And even with the restorative he had taken after cleaning his clothes, he felt it best to go light on his stomach.

His uncle, it seemed, appeared to eat with as great an enthusiasm as he took most aspects of his life, and happily ate, drank, and chatted away with his nephew over the next forty-five minutes. Mostly it was about what it was like to be trained by Cadmus Hornsby, what an incredible Auror he was, his idealism, and how he sometimes let his paternal feelings towards the Aurors and the population they were trying to protect overwhelm him. It was only when Steven began tucking into his bread pudding that they were interrupted by a large tawny owl landing right on the edge of their table, a rolled up and sealed parchment in its beak.

Steven's eyebrow's rose in surprise as he took the letter and tossed the owl a treat. "You expecting a letter, Severus?" he enquired. On the teen's shake of his head, the older man unrolled the scroll and quickly scanned it. "It seems we are not free to go just yet," he said, his voice soft but again possessing that business like air that indicated duty called. "The Chief Warlock would like to see us in fifteen minutes." And with that he went back to his pudding.

"Does it indicate what it is about?" Severus queried, a slight scowl forming on his face. "Does Dumbledore stipulate both of us? More to the point, is there any way I can avoid it?"

Steven's eyebrow arched at his nephew. "Yes, it says both of us...and no, you can't avoid it. In fact, I'd lose the notion of avoidance, Severus. The life of an Auror pretty much is the opposite of avoidance...more like being knee deep in it on a regular basis."

Snape put his spoon down with a clink and sat back checking his bag. "Spoken precisely like a man who hasn't had to sit in front of Albus Dumbledore for twelve hours a week lately," he answered. "And must everything come back to honour and duty with you Aurors?

"I wasn't talking about avoiding 'duty,' merely having to listen to a conversation littered with references to bullseyes, sherbet lemons, acid drops, and strawberry liquorice. Not to mention the amazing story of how he suddenly discovered he was wearing three pairs of socks at the same time. That and I only wanted to rest." He stood up, hefting his bag up. "Blood restoratives work even more slowly than bone ones, Uncle," he told him as he moved off, dropping his share of the bill on the table before his relative could stop him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Arriving back at the Ministry five minutes later, the two men crossed swiftly through the atrium to the elevators. As they walked, Steven took in the more subdued atmosphere of those in the Ministry since the incident that morning. In his own way, the idea of a leak in the Department bothered him as deeply as it had his old mentor...though for the sake of his nephew, currently glowering at having to return to the Ministry once again, he tried not to show it.

He was not blind to the young man's focus on the beautiful diplomat, and he supposed if he was inclined toward people with breasts he would be as well. He had also not failed to notice the silver and ebony pendant around the Counsellor's neck -- a locket, to be exact, and one he knew quite well. Its placement around her neck and his sister's recounting of how it had been given away by her son certainly seemed to explain how his nephew and the diplomat knew each other. So this was the girl Severus had saved...and now he had done it again. Casting a glance over to the teen by his side, he wondered why he found that vaguely troubling.

Severus was far too young for her, of course, but the boy was obviously affected by her. It was not surprising giving their past connection, but he worried the boy might get hurt if his crush continued unabated. However, perhaps through her, his nephew would take an interest in...or simply be inspired...to participate in something greater then his own studies. Frankly, the boy didn't seem to be inclined towards much of anything outside himself. And that too was worrying.

The lift swiftly took them to their destination on the second floor, and a brisk walk down the corridor and through the offices found them once more before Miss Weatherby, her red glossy lips smiling widely at the pair.

"I see you got the owl. He's waiting for you both inside." She rose to her feet and crossed over to the large oaken door, her gentle rap immediately answered with a jovial "Come!"

Steven watched with some vague fascination as his nephew effortlessly let his sour expression slip into a more composed one, hiding his emotions easily. In that moment it was more obvious than ever why the Prince line, almost exclusively Ravenclaw throughout its long history, had another rare entrant into Slytherin.

Entering the office of Bartemius Crouch, Snape found Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, bouncing gently up and down on the large swivelling seat and swinging it back and forth in between bounces as he revelled appreciatively in this new style of chair.

Taking a long deep breath, the teen cast a rather long suffering look at his uncle before he moved in to take one of the two seats arranged in front of the desk.

Steven appeared more than a bit amused at the sight as he visibly struggled not to laugh at the elderly but highly respected wizard. Taking the seat next to his nephew, he leaned forward ready to speak, but instead found a paper packet hovering in his face.

"Toffee?" enquired the old man with the most innocent of expressions.

Picking one out of the bag with thanks, Steven went to begin again, only for the bag to zip its way over to take up a similar position in front of his nephew.

"Swedish Fish?"

Even Snape, long used to his Headmaster's eccentricities, blinked at that, his long nose twitching in anticipation of the smell of brine emanating from the brown bag. "Pardon me, Headmaster?"

"Yes!" Dumbledore enthused. "Tasty little things recommended to me by the headmistress of the Salem Witches Institute in our last correspondence. Red jelly type sweets shaped like fish...oh...jelly fish!" he chortled to himself, suddenly realising the play on words before shaking his head with a smile. "Although I'm not entirely sure why they are Swedish," he pondered looking into the bag. "I believe the Swedes are inordinately fond of herring. Red herrings, do you think? I remember once when I was in Sweden, I saw a herring that was..."

"Headmaster?" his student's voice quietly interrupted him. "I have no wish to cut your story short," he lied, "but my head still aches a little from this morning's events, and I would...if at all possible...like to lie down at some stage."

"Ah..." The elderly wizard cleared his throat. "Yes, of course. I digress. Of course you are wondering why I have called you both here." He popped a jelly fish into his mouth and chewed upon it slowly with a smile of satisfaction -- though whether from the sweet or from what he was about to say next, it was hard to say. "What were your plans for the next little while, Mr. Prince?" he enquired.

Any smile on the Auror's face immediately cleared, his mind already moving five steps ahead at that simple line. "Apart from Severus job shadowing me for the next month...I had no plans." His green eyes flicked to his nephew. "But perhaps that question is now irrelevant?"

"No...it is entirely relevant, I assure you," Dumbledore replied, leaning back in his chair. "You are an intelligent man, Mr. Prince, your reputation precedes you...so I shall not assume that you do not know why you are here. I have chosen you as one of the guardians of Miss Abernathy. This of course means that there must be a change of plans regarding your young charge here."

Snape turned from his scrutiny of his uncle and the stab of jealousy he felt at the realisation that his relative was about to go into seclusion with Paidea Abernathy. "You wish to send me home, sir," he cut in, getting swiftly to the point.

Dumbledore merely smiled and glanced back at Steven. "How do you feel your sister would take to losing contact with both her brother and son for a period of time?"

The Auror's lips pursed as he considered that. "It would depend. If I were to let her know that Severus was with me under my protection, then I think she would be all right with it," he decided. "But of course, it depends if Severus wishes to go. This is not what he agreed to when his mother suggested this 'apprenticeship' of sorts." He turned to the teen. "You would not be allowed to contact anyone...not even your mother, and I know she has not been well as of late. Is that something you feel you can live with? No friends...no family. Well...except for me."

The teenager looked from one man to the other in surprise. "You wish me to help protect the Counsellor?" he asked in astonishment, both at the proposal and at the fact that neither of them seemed to think it odd to ask an untried seventeen year old who was not even an Auror trainee to take up this task.

The headmaster smiled. "Who better, young Severus? After all...there is certainly no one with the Department who has such a successful track record in preserving this young lady's life!" He tapped a small scroll by his side. "Twice now, I believe. I see no particular reason to substitute you when you are doing so well!" he added with a chuckle.

"You have all the requisite skills that Barty Crouch stipulated; saving that you are not an Auror, you have the added advantage of a longstanding acquaintance with Miss Abernathy. Plus..." he eyed Snape with amusement, "a relatively healthy disrespect for figures in authority. Paidea Abernathy, like her father...perhaps more so...can cut quite the imposing figure. You, as I know of old, Severus, are not one easily cowed...and in fact can be quite daunting yourself when you put your mind to it. So yes, my intention is to use you, providing your mother agrees and you wish to be used, that is."

Snape restrained himself forcibly from nodding too quickly at the thought of being not only in close proximity to Paidea but in such an intimate and legitimate capacity. "I have no objections to the task, sir." He turned his head to his uncle. "When will you speak with Mother..." he frowned in remembrance, "...and Father?"

"I'll speak with them directly," his relative agreed, his gaze penetrating, knowing full well his nephew was more than simply pleased, even if he didn't show it.

Snape nodded again and turned back to his headmaster. "Where are we to guard her, sir?"

Dumbledore folded his arms. "Well, the exact location I shall hold off from deciding on and discussing with you until after your parents have given permission and we have ascertained you will be joining us on this little venture. But..." he added, "I have been dwelling on a few safe holds where we could securely place her. All of them have copious amounts of protective spells and are conveniently enough located in the vicinity of wizarding communities to allow you easy access to supplies...something the Counsellor will no doubt be insisting on."

A sly look slipped over his face. "However, I do have one other idea I rather like bouncing about in my head like an over-excited house-elf. One that young Snape here would be ideally suited to help implement." His gaze turned to Steven. "How would you fancy living the life of a Muggle for a while, Mr. Prince?"

The dark haired man appeared momentarily taken aback, though his mind was quick to kick back into gear and on doing so, began to sift through the benefit of such an environment. It would not only be completely removed from any potential troublesome hot spots, but there would a next to nil chance of anyone recognising her and reporting back should they go out in public. Plus...who would think to look for the wealthy pureblood witch in amidst Muggles?

"An excellent suggestion, sir," he agreed barely a breath later. "I think I shall be able to adapt. I've spent enough time at my sister's house to learn a little, though I'm sure Severus will be able to instruct us both." He flashed his nephew a quick smile.

Snape nodded in acknowledgement at his uncle's words. Amidst his silent euphoria, he was pleased that he would be able to speak authoritatively on at least one subject in the presence of the quick-witted aptitude and suavity of his uncle and the poise and intelligence of the Counsellor.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore enthused. "Then we are agreed. Once you have received his parents' permission, Mr. Prince, return to me here and we shall, all three of us, plot the perfect spot for this hideaway. Then I shall inform the Council...who will have the joyous task of breaking the news to our lovely...but dogmatic...Miss Abernathy."