Secrets

Chapter 5

Iole Ranger was a tall, slim, regal looking woman in her late forties. She wore simple, dark brown robes that were, obviously, of the highest quality. Her straw-coloured hair, now streaked with silver, was drawn back lightly from her face and gathered at the back of her head in a loose chignon. She had slender, angular features that could only have been described as handsome. Her pale green eyes were keen, with a permanently calculating look about them, while the line of her mouth was usually set in an expression of austerity. Yet, despite her severe appearance, those select few she honoured with her company knew her to have dazzling wit and an incisive sense of humour. Iole Ranger was a Lunarior.

In fact, she was Head of the Arcana, the Department of Mysteries' Branch dealing with all Covert Field Operations. Her entire Branch, actually, was so secret, that even the Ministry of Magic only knew about half the projects they were involved in. Iole Ranger was also Iris Raveneye's boss.

It was she that had called Iris to the Haven, the Arcana's Headquarters. The Haven was even more secret than the Branch itself. It was presumed to exist, somewhere, by most high-ranking employees of the Department of Mysteries, but its precise location was known only to a handful of people. Even the term 'precise location' was used loosely in relation to the Haven's whereabouts, since it tended to move around quite a lot. This was not a figure of speech, since the Haven physically changed location every few days -along with whomever happened to be in it at the time.

The building had had several dozen immensely complex enchantments performed on it by some of the most powerful wizards and witches in the Ministry's employ. Consequently, now, it was completely invisible to Muggles and Wizards alike, who had no business with it, whilst anyone coming, unknowingly, within a certain distance of it became overwhelmed with a sudden desire to walk in the opposite direction. It was impossible to Apparate or Disapparate anywhere within the aforementioned perimeter; and, it hopped around Britain of its own accord, at random intervals and locations, every few days.

This made it very hard to actually get into the building at all, even if one was invited. In fact, there was only one way. There was a single room in the entire building in which Apparition and Disapparition were possible. This room had passwords, seals, and magically reinforced walls, protecting it. In the unlikely event that any unwelcome guest actually managed to Apparate into it, it would have been impossible for them to get out again. A single mistake in any of the passwords, or any attempt whatsoever at breaking the seals or breaching the walls, triggered an automatic Obliviate spell that wiped the recipient's memory clean of everything he or she might have seen or heard over the past twenty-four hours and up to that moment. After this it also became impossible for anyone to Disapparate from that room again, until the security breach had been dealt with. No one had yet managed to Apparate into that room that had not been expected. It was, technically, almost impossible to Apparate into a room one had never set eyes on before and which moved, randomly around Britain, except by mistake and with the help of unimaginable clumsiness and bad luck.

For first-timers, the use of a Portkey would be authorised, they would always be escorted by at least one Arcana employee, and the Portkey would be immediately destroyed upon their arrival at The Haven. All in all, access to and from The Haven could only have been described as restricted.

Iole Ranger looked up from an enormous pile of parchments she was sorting through on her desk. She was sitting in her large, comfortable office, furnished in the utmost taste, with the simplest and most expensive furnishings Galleons could buy.

'Ah, Iris,' she exclaimed. 'You made it.'

'Yes... Leaving Hogwarts proved to be a bit more of a challenge than expected,' said Iris calmly, as she swept into the room.

'Snape giving you problems then?' Iole stated, more than asked, and looked back down at her paperwork. Iris's eyebrows rose slightly.

'He thinks I'm a Lunarior.'

Iole's head snapped up, immediately, and she fixed Iris with her most penetrating stare.

'Indeed?'

Iris shrugged in a manner that implied helplessness.

'He always was a sharp little bastard,' Iole commented dryly, to Iris's complete and utter surprise. 'I didn't expect him to pick up on it so quickly though...! What did you say?'

'What do you mean "what did I say"?!' Iris exclaimed. 'I told him he was out of his mind! What did you think I'd say?'

'Did you manage to convince him?'

'-That he was out of his mind? Doubtful. But I think I did manage to make him aware of how extreme and unlikely the whole idea was.'

Iole stared at her intently for another couple of moments and then seemed to relax again.

'Oh, well, can't be helped. It was always a risk we were running with this.' Her manner implied that it was not the situation that created the risk, but the fact that Snape was involved in it.

'You've known him long, then?' Iris asked, offhandedly, not having forgotten Iole's earlier comment.

'Since Hogwarts,' said Iole while rummaging through her papers.

'Funny you didn't mention that before.'

Iole looked up at her.

'Is it important?'

'Could have been. You might know things about him that could be significant... Did you know him well?'

'I was his senior by two of three years. However, I'm quite certain that I gave you all the information I had on him, at the beginning of this assignment.'

'Were you in the same House?'

Iole eyed Iris hawkishly.

'Yes...' she said slowly, as if to show that her patience was running thin with this subject.

'You were at Slytherin?!' Iris asked, failing to conceal the surprise in her voice.

'Yes...' Iole repeated. 'Is that surprising?'

Iris hesitated, thinking about it.

'Well, now I come to think of it, no,' she said and shot Iole a shrewd smile. 'It fits, really.' Iole smirked back at her.

'So, now that that is out of the way, is there anything else you have to report?'

'Unfortunately, yes,' said Iris quietly. 'He has been called again.'

'When?' Iole looked up sharply.

'This morning. I was there when it happened.'

'How could you tell?'

'Well, there were some little, tell-tale signs... Like him on his knees from the pain!' she exclaimed cuttingly.

'It was that bad?!' said Iole, her eyes widening in alarm. 'That means they were being called in urgently. Did he go?'

'Not to my knowledge. But then again, he wouldn't actually tell me if he was planning on going, would he? And I left, soon afterwards. You did say I was to come immediately, didn't you?'

'I did. You did well. This, of course, changes things...' Iole paused, thinking so intensely, Iris could almost see the thoughts taking shape in her mind. 'You might have to go back, immediately.'

'Are you at least going to tell me why you called me here in the first place?

'Of course,' Iole said impatiently, waving the triviality of the question aside. 'But what's more important now is that you try and follow him, this time.'

Iris gaped at her.

'And how do you suggest I do that?!' she asked with a sneer. 'Dumbledore hasn't yet let me organise the surveillance system. He says it's too early and too dangerous. Only the barest of foundations have been laid!'

'Dumbledore is too cautious!' Iole exclaimed in a huff. 'The surveillance system should have been up and running by now. From now on I expect you to follow my orders, not Dumbledore's!'

'You know perfectly well that he is aware of everything that goes on it that school. I can't go explicitly against his instructions. He will find out and he will shut this operation down. The only reason he agreed to it in the first place was with the understanding that he took all the major decisions and that no one involved was exposed to unnecessary risk! He thinks it's still too risky, and, frankly, I'm not sure I disagree with him.'

'You are a Lunarior, not a school teacher!' Iole snapped, rising up from her seat, angrily. 'Risk is part of the job!'

'Yes. It is. But I'm not the only one being put at risk here!' Iris exclaimed. 'There is a school full of children involved! Not to mention Snape. You do want him to keep on spying for us, don't you? He's the only one we've got on the inside right now! If we get him killed, then we have no one!'

'Others are being prepared!' Iole said meaningfully. 'We can't rely solely on him. We're not even sure he isn't playing for both sides yet! That's why you're there, remember? To make sure; and, if he's reliable, to try and keep him alive long enough for us to prepare and position more people within Voldermort's ranks.'

'Do you have anyone else in right now?'

'No. Not yet. But it won't be long before we do.'

'You would tell me if you had others in now, wouldn't you?' Iris insisted, knowing only too well the nature of the organisation that employed her.

'Of course I would!' Iole snapped.

'And, by the way, those are not the only two reasons I am there!' Iris continued sharply. 'I'm also there as a bit of extra protection for the school, in case things go horribly wrong. You do remember that bit, don't you?!'

Iole was forced into silence.

'Yes,' she said in the end. 'That is true, and I do still remember that part of the arrangement.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' said Iris sourly.

'I would not be telling you to do this lightly,' Iole returned to the original point of their disagreement. 'I have no desire to see anyone involved put into unnecessary risk. It is, however, of the utmost importance that you try and follow him, this time, if indeed he decides to go.'

'Why?' Iris asked flatly, the tone in her voice making it perfectly clear that she had no intention of attempting anything, unless she was offered an extremely good reason.

Iole sat back down in her chair with a sigh.

'We have a suspicion...' she said quietly in the end.

'What suspicion is that?'

'Well, actually we have two suspicions. The first was the reason I called you here in the first place. The second... we thought could wait, until the Death Eaters were called in again. Seeing as the latter has happened sooner than was expected, it takes precedence.'

Iris waited patiently.

'We want you to try and see if the four people that have disappeared in the past two months have joined Voldermort's ranks.' Iris felt her eyes widen in astonishment.

'You mean, you think those two incidents were staged to look like Death Eater attacks, so that the people involved could conveniently disappear and join the other side, without being suspected?'

Iole nodded. Iris ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head in shocked disbelief.

'It sounds far fetched, I realise that. Death Eaters in the past tended to be a great deal less reserved about revealing their loyalties. However, times change, and also, it could be a plan to mislead us, ultimately, about the sort of numbers joining Voldermort's ranks,' Iole tried to explain, patiently.

'But, if that's the case, isn't it enough for Snape to get that information for you? Why do you need me?'

'Firstly, because Dumbledore refuses to divulge this information to Snape, following his usual tactics of, "the less Snape knows about what we know and our actions, the better"; which is an opinion I share, though for different reasons from Dumbledore's. Snape would only be able to give us this data if we told him what -and whom -he was looking for. Secondly, because we can't yet be sure that any information coming from Snape, at the moment, is trustworthy.'

Iris thought about this. Both Iole and Dumbledore had valid points, all around. It would be dangerous for Snape to know any of their intentions, or the issues they were investigating. If he came under any sort of suspicion from Voldermort or his followers there were a million and one unpleasant ways of extracting all this crucial information from him. There was also Veritaserum, which wasn't unpleasant, per se, but under its influence he would not be able to conceal anything; not even his own involvement in all this. Obviously, this was the worst case scenario and meant certain death for him, and complete exposure for the rest of the people involved. Iris preferred not to dwell on this possibility too extensively.

Iole's second point was not quite as terrifying to contemplate as the first, but Iris had to agree that it was not something they could afford to disregard.

And yet, she still held by her initial reservations concerning the timing of this entire exercise. As she had made perfectly clear a few minutes earlier, she agreed with Dumbledore on the fact that it was too early to risk surveillance. They needed to give Snape more time to become firmly and unequivocally accepted as a trustworthy, loyal member of the Death Eaters. He was sure to be still very closely watched and not yet entirely trusted. One wrong move from her, or from him, and worse case scenario 'A' would become a reality.

'Can't this wait a bit?' she asked in the end. 'I appreciate the importance of the issue, but I still think it's too early and too dangerous. One wrong move and we lose our only insider, several months'-worth of work and possibly expose ourselves in the process. How are you going to get people in close to Voldermort again, if something goes wrong now? If Snape is exposed, how likely do you think it is that we will be able to position someone in Voldermort's inner circle again, in the foreseeable future? We need someone as close to Voldermort himself as possible, and we have someone there already. Considering the price we will have to pay for failure, I don't think it's worth the risk! We need to give him more time!'

Iole sighed and rubbed the ridge of her nose tiredly.

'We can't afford to waste more time,' she said in the end. 'It has been six months already since Voldermort's return. We need to be one step ahead of him, constantly, this time.' She stopped, leaned back in her chair, steepled her fingers and seemed to think for a while.

'You have until after Christmas,' she said in the end. 'By that time I expect you to have set up a surveillance system and be ready to go into action at a moment's notice. Is that clear? I will not tolerate any more delays. Whether you and Dumbledore think it is safe or not, after Christmas we begin!'

'Fine,' said Iris with relief that she concealed. 'Now, what was the reason you asked me here in the first place?'

'I want you to do some more surveillance for me,' Iole said simply. 'It is the sort of job that requires the techniques you employ, and I have no one else available at the moment.'

'Who do you want me to watch and for how long? I said I'd be back at Hogwarts in a couple of days.'

'I need you to go for a trip to the country, for no more than a day or two, starting right now.'

*

Snape walked out of his Potions class with Slytherin and Gryffindor fifth years, and went straight to Dumbledore's office.

'Headmaster,' he began as soon as he walked in through the door. Dumbledore looked up at him sharply. The tone in Snape's voice had been unmistakable.

'You've been called?' he interrupted the rest of Snape's sentence.

'Yes.'

'When?'

'About an hour and a half ago. It... er, feels urgent,' Snape added carefully.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed with concern.

'You should have come to me immediately,' he said sharply.

'I'm sorry, Headmaster. It was... inconvenient. Raveneye was in my office at the time.'

'She saw?'

'I'm afraid so.'

Dumbledore stiffened, his eyes sparkled eerily for a moment and then he leaned back into his enormous winged armchair with a sigh.

'That is unfortunate,' he said softly.

'I'm sorry,' said Snape. 'It was much more... I failed to conceal it,' he corrected himself in the end, not wishing to elaborate on the intensity of the pain he had felt.

'It is not your fault, Severus,' Dumbledore said kindly, with utter earnestness. 'Besides, it was always a risk that someone would see, eventually. Let's just hope she has the sense...' he let the rest of his thought drift off into silence. 'Has she left yet?' he asked instead.

'As far as I know. You hope she has the sense to do what?' asked Snape, as Dumbledore knew he would. He shouldn't have said that.

'The sense to not mention it to anyone,' he lied. Dumbledore knew that, probably at this precise moment, Iris would be reporting what she had witnessed to Iole Ranger. He also knew that Iole would be ordering her to begin her surveillance immediately. What he was hoping for was that Iris would have the sense to refuse, and, hopefully, manage to talk Iole out of it. He would have to wait to find out what actually happened.

'You are already almost two hours late. Are you going to go?'

'I am expected to be late. It is well known I can't Apparate from inside Hogwarts. I believe I should go. I should not be seen to ignore a call this urgent.'

'The decision is yours, Severus,' Dumbledore said, quietly. 'I would ask you, though, to be extremely careful, this time.'

Snape looked at Dumbledore, a puzzled frown on his face, but knew better than to ask for the reasons of this request. He was well aware that there were things he should not and was not being told, for his safety, as well as everyone else's. This did not stop him resenting the fact, however. If there was one thing he despised, it was being in the dark about things. It meant he would inevitably be unprepared when things started going terribly wrong; and Snape had the sort of personality that expected everything that could go wrong in a given situation to do so. It was also a given that it would go wrong in the worse possible way.

This was the risk he had agreed to take, however, and he was the type to never back down from any agreement, or decision he had made and he believed to be correct, no matter how the stakes changed in the process.

'I will go,' he stated, matter-of-factly.

Dumbledore acknowledged his decision with a nod.

'Be careful, Severus,' was all he said.

Snape turned on his heel to leave, but hesitated.

'I had agreed to cover Raveneye's Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, but now, with both of us gone...'

'Don't worry about classes, Severus,' Dumbledore interrupted him. 'I'm sure we'll be able to manage.'

Snape nodded sombrely and left, without another word.

*

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked quietly away from their Potions class in what distinctly resembled a daze. When they had reached the main Entrance Hall, having covered half the distance to their next class, they stopped walking.

'I have never seen anything like that before,' Ron said, without turning to look at the other two.

'Neither have I,' Harry agreed. 'What happened to him?' he asked, turning suddenly.

Ron shook his head, still staring straight ahead.

'And to think that I thought things would get better from now on... That definitely qualified as the most frightening experience of my life!'

'It was as if he was an entirely different person. Like he was possessed, or something!' Ron said, finally turning to look at Harry.

'That look in his eyes; did you see that?' said Harry, obviously still in shock.

Ron nodded.

'How could I miss it?' he asked bitterly.

'And his face...' Hermione joined in suddenly, for the first time. 'He looked as if he was about to face execution, or something. There was something... dead about him. Like...' her voice drifted off and she shook her head instead.

Ron and Harry nodded in their first three-way agreement in months.

'Did you see how he kept rubbing his left arm, all the time?' asked Harry, trying to shake himself out of the daze. Hermione nodded.

'You know what that means, don't you?' Harry said. 'The Death Eaters have been called by Voldermort again.'

'The way he was behaving, you'd think he was planning on going!' Ron exclaimed, and suddenly Hermione and Harry froze. Slowly, they turned to stare at each other and then at Ron.

'That's it,' Harry breathed. 'That was why he was acting that way. He's going to go to Voldermort!'

'Don't be ridiculous!' Ron snapped. 'He didn't go last year, when you-know-who called them all for the first time, why should he go now? You were there! You know he didn't go!'

'Ron has a point,' said Hermione slowly. 'If he didn't go when he was first called, it would be madness to show up now. You-know-who would think he has joined the other side! He would never trust him! It would be suicide!'

'He did look a bit like he was planning suicide,' Ron commented tactlessly.

'Ron!' Hermione exclaimed and slapped his upper arm.

'Ow!' said Ron and cowered away from her. 'What did you do that for? It was you who said it first... Anyway, it's not like it's going to be any great loss!...'

'Ron!' cried Hermione again, and rewarded him with another slap.

'Ow! Will you stop that!!?'

'That's a terrible thing to say!' Hermione said angrily.

'What is it with you? He has treated you in the lousiest possible way, since day one. The only person he has treated worse is Harry! And you're worried whether he kills himself or not?!' Ron retorted furiously. 'Excuse me if I don't lose any sleep over it!' he added and stalked off.

Harry and Hermione were left standing where they were, in silence.

'Do you really think he's going to go to you-know-who?' Hermione asked quietly in the end.

'I don't know,' said Harry. 'I guess we'll find out if he doesn't show up for Potions tomorrow.'

They followed Ron to their next class, which happened to be Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. To their surprise, she wasn't there. They took their usual seats, opened their books, took out their wands, and waited.

'What is it with everyone today?' Harry wondered aloud.

'You've got me!' Ron said while looking around under the desks for any sign of a grey tabby cat. They had been caught off guard that way before.

'What are you looking for?' Harry asked curiously.

'McGonagall,' Ron whispered quietly. Harry sniggered.

When Professor McGonagall walked in ten minutes later, however, she was in her usual human form, and she looked even sterner than usual.

'I apologise for the delay,' she said, shortly, as she walked around to stand behind her desk. 'Before we start, I have a small announcement to make. I am to inform you all that you will have no Invocation/Evocation class tomorrow. Now, will you all please turn to page two-hundred of your books, and take out your wands?'

Harry, his brow furrowed, turned to look at Ron who shrugged in bewilderment. Finding this no help at all, he turned the other way to look at Hermione. She had her arm in the air and was about to ask a question.

'Yes, Miss Granger?' McGonagall acknowledged her.

'Please, Professor... Why aren't we having an Invocation class tomorrow?'

Harry marvelled at Hermione's nerve.

'Professor Raveneye has been called away to attend to urgent personal business,' Professor McGonagall said, after the briefest hesitation. Hermione nodded and looked quickly down at her book. McGonagall's stare was not easy to hold for long.

'What made you do that?' Harry asked of Hermione as they walked away after the end of their Transfiguration class, back up towards the Gryffindor common room.

'Do what?'

'You know; ask McGonagall why we wouldn't be having Invocation tomorrow.'

'Oh, that. I just wanted to know. Just thought it was a bit strange, that's all.'

'So did we, but we didn't ask! Besides, what makes you think she told you the truth?'

'I just wanted to see what she'd say,' Hermione said offhandedly.

Harry gaped at her.

'Have I told you lately that you scare me sometimes?'

'No. Not lately,' Hermione said as they stopped in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. 'Gobledygook!' she said, and the portrait swung open. 'Don't you think that everything that's happened today is a bit odd?' she asked of Harry as they climbed through the portrait hole and into their common room. 'I mean, first, we hear Snape and Raveneye having an almighty row and almost bringing the place down around them in the process; then, less than an hour later, we see the two of them sitting and having tea, as if nothing had happened; then, Snape's ten minutes late for Potions -which hasn't happened once in the four years we've been here, I might add; then, when he does show up, he looks all weird, like he's getting ready to face a firing squad; and then, McGonagall tells us that Raveneye has suddenly taken off somewhere! I mean, Ok, strange things happen in this school all the time, but doesn't this sequence of events strike you as even slightly peculiar?'

Harry stood staring at Hermione wide-eyed. She had an unnerving way of summing situations up in the most alarming way imaginable. Of course, all the events she had just listed had struck him as very strange indeed, individually; but he hadn't thought of them in sequence, like she obviously had. And now that she put it this way, he had to admit that it sounded very peculiar indeed, even for Hogwarts, and that, by itself, was saying something.

'If you put it that way,' he breathed in the end, 'I guess you're right. It all does sound very odd,' he added and slumped down into the nearest armchair.

'The only problem is we still don't know what it all means,' Ron's voice of reason interrupted them. He, too, had been listening with interest to Hermione's exposition of the day's events. He still didn't really care about Snape's peculiar behaviour, any more than he did earlier, but taken in context, it suddenly acquired much greater relevance.

'I know,' Hermione sighed and slumped down in a chair next to Harry. All three of them stared at each other, thinking intently.

'What if Snape really doesn't show up for Potions tomorrow?' Harry reminded them both. He didn't have to explain further. They all knew that what Harry was suggesting was that, if Snape didn't show up the next day, there was only one explanation for it. He had gone to meet the Death Eaters, and Voldermort.

'I don't know,' said Hermione, shaking her head. 'It's just all so odd!'

'Do you two really think he'd attempt something like that if he knew it might get him killed?' Ron asked, coldly.

'Maybe, he doesn't think it will get him killed,' Harry suggested slowly.

'What are you saying? Do you think he has joined up with you-know-who again?' asked Hermione.

'Well, that, at least, would make more sense,' said Ron.

Hermione stared from one to the other, silently.

'But, if that were the case, wouldn't someone else have realised, too?' she asked. 'I mean, we noticed something was going on. Wouldn't some of the other teachers have noticed also? Dumbledore would know, surely!'

'Maybe that's what the row with Raveneye was about!' Ron exclaimed triumphantly. 'Maybe she figured it all out and confronted him. Can't get anything past her, you know!'

'Ron, that's ridiculous!' Hermione said impatiently. 'If that was what they were arguing about, they'd hardly be sitting there having tea together, ten minutes later, would they?!'

Ron's face fell.

'You're right, it doesn't make sense,' Harry said miserably. 'He's probably just back to spying for Dumbledore again; I mean, Dumbledore would know, wouldn't he, if Snape was back with Vold-... you-know-who, again!'

'Harry, I hate to break this to you, but Dumbledore isn't infallible. Quirrell fooled him, and so did that smarmy git Lockhart, and that Mad-Eye Moody impostor. Why couldn't Snape do the same?' Ron said gravely.

'Because he had every opportunity in the past, to join up with you-know-who again, and he didn't,' said Hermione hotly.

'Yes, but then, you-know-who wasn't really back in the flesh, was he?' Ron said shrewdly. 'It's different now. He's really back!' Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Harry's face, looking more and more sombre with every word he spoke. He stopped and turned to him.

'Sorry, Harry. I... didn't mean to...'

'It's alright,' said Harry quickly. 'It's not your fault he's back. It's just that I hadn't thought about him that much for a while, and now...'

'Look, Harry,' Hermione interrupted him, 'I'm sure that Snape hasn't joined you-know-who again. I don't know why I'm so sure, I just am. And I haven't been wrong many times before, have I?!' she said meaningfully in the end, shooting a warning glare at Ron, who frowned at her but decided to hold his tongue until Harry wasn't in the room with them.

'I guess we'll find that one out tomorrow,' Harry said quietly and got up to leave. 'We'll all know what's happened if Snape doesn't show up for Potions!'

Harry left, climbing the stairs up to the boys' dormitories, and leaving Ron and Hermione alone.

'What did you say that for?' Ron asked furiously. 'You don't know that Snape hasn't joined you-know-who, you just admitted it. It's better for him to know if he's going to have a Death Eater as a Potions teacher for the rest of the year, than to be happily oblivious!'

'Look, Ron, I tell you that's not going to be the case. I know it looks that way, but I also know there's something else going on here. It's all just too complicated and too weird. For Harry's sake, will you, just once in your life, trust me on something? We all want to know what's going on, so, are you going to help me?!'

'Help you do what?' Ron asked, eyeing her guardedly.

'Help me find out, of course!'

Ron's eyes widened.

'And how do you propose we do that?' he asked.

'I don't know yet,' Hermione admitted grumpily. 'But if I know you're going to help, I'll come up with something, I swear!'

'It's a deal,' Ron said in the end. 'Just promise me one thing. If we find out anything that might prove Snape's back with you-know-who, we go straight to Dumbledore. Alright?'

'Alright!' Hermione agreed with a broad grin.

*

In the dark, dank gloom of an isolated country house, Snape Apparated. He had been here twice before. It was a large, desolate place, fully furnished, that still looked -and felt -uninhabited. There were fires roaring in some of the fireplaces, but they did little or nothing in terms of alleviating some of the bleakness of the place. He had no idea who owned this house, but, judging by its size it was someone with Galleons aplenty to spare. Several names presented themselves as the possible owners, but he had no way yet of verifying any of them.

He stood in the main entrance hall of the building, right in front of an enormous, sweeping, marble staircase that led up to the first floor. Either side of the staircase there were other rooms, all them large, high-ceilinged affairs that felt no more inviting than the rest of the house. Towards the back of the hall, underneath the staircase, was a concealed door that led downstairs into an enormous, disused cellar. Taking a deep breath, he headed towards it.

Through the hidden door he went, and down the first flight of steps. These led onto a first landing, then turned and continued going downwards. At the end of the staircase stood a huge oak door, standing, only slightly, ajar. He paused there and took another deep breath before entering. He raised his hand to push the door open, but didn't get the chance.

'I'm glad you could join us, Severus,' came a cold, sneering voice from behind the door. 'Won't you come in?'

Snape pushed the door open and strode, quietly into the cellar. He kept his head lowered and his eyes on the floor, the hood of his cloak and his lank, black hair hiding most of his face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the hems of many, black robes, standing around the room in a rough circle. He made his way to what he judged to be the centre of the room and there he stopped.

Slowly, he went down on one knee, head still bowed, eyes on the cold, grey slabs of stone that paved the floor.

'Forgive my tardiness, my Lord,' he rumbled quietly.

'Better late than never... Severus,' the voice hissed coldly in a way that was anything but sympathetic. 'The only reason your constant delays are tolerated is because of the unique position you occupy, at Hogwarts! Your proximity to Dumbledore and that little brat, Potter, are, for the time being, deemed useful. Rest assured, however, that once your position ceases to be considered expedient, merely showing up -TWO HOURS LATE -is not going to be enough! Do you understand, Severus?...' the voice added with such cold quietness that a shiver went down Snape's spine.

'Yes, my Lord,' he said calmly, however.

'Good. You may get up now, and go take your place in the circle. We have waited long enough!' the voice hissed.

Snape got to his feet and raised his head for the first time. Voldermort's red, snake-like eyes stared back at him. Suppressing another shiver, he turned and went to stand in his place in the circle; a place that had been kept vacant in expectation of his arrival.

'Now,' Voldermort continued after a short pause. 'I want to present to you all, two new members of our circle. They have proven their loyalty, thus far, and have been deemed fit to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. They are being presented to you, by myself, so there won't be an questions, now or in the future, concerning their loyalty. You are all to assist them, in any way that is within your powers, if they ever require any such assistance, as you would doubtless do for each other.'

He motioned, and the two closest black-clad figures to him stepped forward. They pulled their hoods back from their heads and turned to face the circle. A tall, stern-looking woman in her sixties and a much younger, blondish woman in her mid thirties appeared from beneath the black cowls. They bore such a striking resemblance to each other that Snape would have been willing to wager a great deal of money on the fact that this was a mother and daughter team.

'Let me introduce to you, Odette and Ophelia Turner.'

The two women inclined their heads, slightly, to the assembled group, then pulled their hoods up again and re-took their places.

'Now the introductions are all over, let's get down to business! Voldermort exclaimed and rose from his seat with a swish of long robes.

Outside, a large crow perched on the branch of a large plane tree overlooking the main entrance to the house ruffled its feathers once, and then settled down to wait, again.

*

By three-thirty that afternoon, the light had faded almost completely. It was getting dark, and still there hadn't been the slightest sign of movement from inside the house. The enormous windows that graced practically every wall of the manor stood silent and empty. The crow cocked its head to one side and eyed the sky lopsidedly. It looked back down at the house that was gradually being swallowed up by the darkness and then suddenly took off.

Around ten minutes later, black figures started emerging from the hidden door beneath the stairs. Some of them only walked as far as the entrance hall and then Disapparated. Others disappeared into one of the large downstairs rooms where they proceeded to draw the heavy, velvet curtains on the windows. A couple made their way up the sweeping marble staircase to the first floor; and one of them headed towards the back of the house and the immense, deserted room that used to be the kitchen.

It didn't look like a kitchen any longer. What it resembled much more convincingly was an Alchemical Laboratory. The pantry now held the most peculiar things pickled in jars of all sizes, bottles filled with liquids of all imaginable colours, containers of various powdered substances, and what seemed like an infinite supply of all known -and sometimes unknown -herbs and plants.

In the kitchen proper, an enormous black cauldron hung over the cold hearth. Glass flagons, pipes and tubes, along with other strange and alarming laboratory equipment were laid out on the huge oak table in the centre of the room.

The solitary, black-clad figure walked to the pantry and started selecting ingredients with decisive ease. It carried them over to the oak table, set them down and went back for a second armful of jars, bottles, containers and herbs. Once everything was sitting on the table, within easy reach, the figure produced a dark, long, sturdy looking wand. It took one casual flick and a roaring magical fire ignited under the black cauldron.

Snape turned back towards the table and his ingredients and, as he turned, a glimmer of something caught his eye in the darkness outside the window; when he looked again, though, it was gone. He stood there for a moment, uncertainly. Was it his imagination, or had he just seen the twin gleam of a cat's eyes reflecting the light of the fire. With sudden decisiveness he stalked to the window. He peered out into the darkness but there was nothing there. Everything was completely still outside. He stayed where he was, peering out into the night for a few moments and then, deciding he must have imagined it, he went back to his potion brewing. Only the slightest inkling of a doubt remained in the back of his mind.

Under the cover of darkness, a large grey cat slid noiselessly under a bush outside, and settled down for the night, within sight of the kitchen window.

*

'Bingo!'

Hermione almost cried out loud as she found what she was looking for in the library. 'Only, how to get one?' she continued thinking while she stared blankly at the open book in front of her. The book was called Magical Espionage Through The Ages. Then it struck her, if someone knew how to get their hands on something like this, that would be the Weasley twins.

She slammed the book shut, put it under her arm and left the library.

She found the twins in the Gryffindor common room, as she had expected, sitting together and obviously devising yet more unpleasant practical jokes they could manufacture and market. She walked up and dropped into a chair next to them, without waiting to be invited. Fred and George both turned, slowly, to look at her.

'Yes?' they inquired simultaneously.

'I need to ask you something,' she said.

'Which one of us?' George gibed.

'Both, or either. It's not important.'

'You hear that, Fred? You're not important!' George continued flatly, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

'Let's see which one of us can answer her question first, and then we'll see who's not important,' Fred suggested. 'So, shoot!' he added to Hermione.

'I wanted to know how I can get my hands on an Earspy,' Hermione said expressionlessly.

George and Fred stared at her speechlessly.

'You what?!' George managed in the end.

'I want to know how...'

'Yes, yes, we got that the first time,' Fred interrupted her. 'What George meant was "are you out of your mind"?'

'I don't think so.'

'Maybe you should think again,' George suggested. 'Firstly, what on earth do you want an Earspy for? Secondly, have you any idea how difficult it is to find something like that?'

'That's why I came to you,' Hermione said flatly. 'I figured, if anyone knows how to get one, that'll be Fred and George.'

The flattery did its job. The twins grinned broadly, puffed up their chests and winked at each other.

'Our reputation is growing satisfactorily,' George said to Fred and Fred nodded, grinning even more broadly, if that was possible.

'You do know that they have a very limited scope, don't you?' Fred asked of Hermione, moving swiftly back to the point at hand. Obviously, some sort of mischief was behind her quest for an Earspy, and if there was one thing Fred and George were always willing to promote, that was mischief.

'I do,' she said, slamming the book down in front of them en lieu of further explanations. They goggled at it, and then grinned broadly again. 'However, it is good enough for my needs.'

'Ok,' George said excitedly. 'There's not many ways to find something like that any more. They haven't really been used extensively since the beginning of the century. No one makes them any more. So, we have to look in specialist antique shops. The good news is it probably won't cost a fortune in Galleons. It won't be cheap though, either.'

'Let's say it'll be my Christmas present,' said Hermione calmly.

Fred and George both raised their eyebrows. There was some serious mischief going on here and they were nothing if not impressed.

'Ok,' Fred said, slowly. 'How quickly do you need it?'

'Today would be good,' she said meaningfully.

'Ah,' George said, seeing the full picture now. 'I see!... Ok, then the best thing we can do is start writing to people straight away. Fred, get all the paperwork, will you?'

Fred didn't complain, or object, but ran quickly up to their dormitory. He staggered back down the stairs a couple of minutes later, his arms laden with magazines and newspapers, which he dumped down on the table.

'Ok, we start with the newest issues and work our way back. Go to the mail-order section at the back of the classifieds and start looking for antique dealers. There's not many ways of doing this. We write to all of them and just keep our fingers crossed that one of them might have an Earspy. Here,' he said and handed Hermione the latest issue of Hurly-burly.

Hermione flicked through the pages of the magazine, goggling at it. It looked like the prankster's paradise. Every new magical gadget, joke and trick on the market were listed and reviewed in it, for the true connoisseur of the art of magical mischief.

'Stop gaping at the merchandise, woman, and start reading the ads!' George said as he grabbed the previous issue of the same, and Fred the current issue of the Daily Prophet. 'You did say this was urgent, didn't you?'

Hermione shook herself out the shock and flicked to the back of the magazine and the classifieds section.

Two hours later, bleary eyed and dazed they put the last magazine and newspaper down on the table.

'I can't believe we managed to work our way through all that!' Fred breathed.

'Well, we did, and it paid off.' George brandished a piece of parchment with the names and addresses of ten different Dealers in Magical Artefacts.

'Now all we have to do is write to all of them,' said Hermione despondently.

'No problem!' Fred exclaimed. 'We have just the thing. All we need do is write one letter, with this!' he said and produced a blue-looking quill from inside his robes.'

Hermione stared blankly at it, while Fred and George winked at each other.

'Yes?' she asked.

'This, my dear, takes all the effort out of writing Christmas cards. You write one with it, then set it down on each other card in turn, and it faithfully reproduces your first message. All you need to do then is fill in the appropriate names!'

Hermione was speechless.

'There's actually such a thing on the market?!' she asked disbelievingly.

'Oh, yes!' George said smugly. 'It's called the Transcriptusquill! Latest model!'

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(Chapter End)