Secrets

Chapter 9

Beyond silence: Stillness, absolute.

The embers in the fireplace still glowed, faintly, but they crackled no more, nor were they crumbling; they hadn't yet died, but they had given up the struggle. Even the morning breeze had disappeared; the curtains hung heavily immobile, as if carrying a dead weight; a weight that seemed to be pressing down, heavily, on her chest crushing the breath out of her.

Still darkness.

It was comforting. Concealing...

That one teardrop rolling down the side of her face, for instance.

When she decided to get up, she would pull the curtains open, and in the new light of day, she would say to herself that it was due to exhaustion; and stress. That sounded like a reasonable explanation. In fact, she could almost believe it right now. Almost. Except for the choking, crushing weight that had now spread out from her chest to include her throat.

In the comforting privacy of darkness there was no need for excuses, or justifications. Those were only necessary in the glaring, intrusive light of day.

Truth lived in darkness.

Still darkness.

*

Iris set a bulky, metal and wooden object down on Dumbledore's desk. He leaned forward and peered at it through his half-moon spectacles.

'I believe this is a compass,' he said. 'A rather nice example, of nineteenth century nautical history. Would it be presumptuous of me to ask where you found such a specimen?'

'It's surprising what one can find in Filch's store of confiscated items,' Iris said shrewdly. 'You should have a rummage through them one day.'

'I think I will,' Dumbledore said with overt interest, still peering closely at the compass. 'Presumably there's a reason you are showing this to me,' he added, his eyes looking up at her, over the top of his glasses.

'I am showing it to you, because it is no longer just a rather nice specimen of nineteenth century nautical history. It is now a Dementor Alarm.'

'Ah,' Dumbledore exclaimed contentedly and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him. 'What an interesting idea! How does it work?'

'After due consideration, we thought it would be a good idea if the object we charmed to act as a receiver, also had the capability of indicating the general location of the imminent threat -hence the idea of the compass. First of all, the moment one or more of our sentinels picks up the presence of Dementors in the area, the compass should start emitting a rather piercing sound, not unlike that of a siren. We thought it should be something noticeable, in case it was ever necessary for it to be heard over a great deal of noise, or from a distance. I should warn you, it is not a pleasant sound! On the other hand, a pleasant sound would be a bit like defeating the purpose of the exercise; at least to our minds. Anyway, as soon as the presence of Dementors is established in this way, all you need to do to establish the location of the threat is to point your wand at it and say Situm Indica, and, theoretically, you should see the needle move, from pointing north, to pointing to the approximate direction of the location. Now, if, god forbid, we ever find ourselves under a concerted attack coming from around the entire perimeter, then, theoretically at least, you should get the needle going completely crazy and start spinning around rapidly. That's it. The best we could do, I'm afraid, under the circumstances, and with only a few short hours at our disposal.'

'My dear Iris, it is absolutely wonderful. I couldn't have hoped for a better alarm, if I had made it myself. Congratulations are due indeed to the both of you -especially considering the circumstances! An absolutely splendid idea -and execution, of course -from two of the sharpest minds in Hogwarts! Now,' he continued, virtually in the same breath, 'from what I gather, neither of you managed to get around to getting any sleep. And you look positively drained, my dear. You should go and get some rest. It's still only eight-thirty. Ample time for a small nap before lunch.'

Iris stiffened slightly, but she quickly forced herself to relax again. There was no need making a spectacle of herself in front of Dumbledore.

'Albus, I'm not ten years old. No need to start treating me as if I am; I don't know what Snape told you, before he left, but I am perfectly aware of where he's disappeared off to. So don't even try to tell me otherwise. What have you done about that little matter we discussed a couple of days ago?'

Dumbledore sighed resignedly.

'Alright. Sit down Iris.'

She did so, tensely upright at the very edge of her chair.

'As I said yesterday, the arrangements have been made, but, since we couldn't have known of this sudden, new turn of events, we are, unfortunately going to experience a slight delay in our time plan. Severus assured me, this morning, before he left, that he is doing everything he can to speed up the process.'

Iris looked at him, obviously unconvinced.

'Let me explain,' Dumbledre sighed again. 'I have asked him to go out of his way to introduce Hades as his familiar to everyone of any importance in the Death Eater circles -including Voldermort. He, of course, has no idea of the reasons behind this. I have asked him to start taking Hades with him, everywhere. As you of course know, one crow looks pretty much like another.... A substitution would not be difficult...'

Iris stared at Dumbledore expressionlessly for a few moments, and then a faint, shrewd smile started breaking out on her lips.

'An ingenious idea,' she said appreciatively. 'Which allows me to develop it even further, in at least two different ways that spring to mind, off the top of my head.'

'Indeed?' said Dumbledore with acute interest.

'It would probably be wise to eventually alternate between all three methods, rather than be restricted to only one of them.'

'And what are those two alternative methods?'

'The first one wouldn't require a substitution at all. Luckily, I took certain precautions with Hades... let's just say he won't object too strongly to my sharing with him, on the odd occasion.'

'Indeed...?' said Dumbledore slowly.

'The second one... I would like to try out before I commit to anything. It will be a bit more difficult, but mainly I'm not sure of the quality of the results of such an endeavour. I could try creating a link between Hades and Maeve. Maeve would then be able to find Hades, no matter where he happened to be; and with me joining Maeve for the ride...' she let the rest of the sentence trail off. 'The only inconvenience with this method would be that it is slower. Maeve would have to fly to wherever, whilst Hades would apparate, with Snape. However, this method would give us a very precise location.'

Dumbledore remained silent for a few thoughtful moments.

'Iris, my dear, if you ever get tired of working for the Department of Mysteries, I will be happy to offer you a permanent position at Hogwarts,' he said in the end with a quirky, beaming smile.

'Why, thank you,' she said with a wry smile of her own. 'If I ever do get tired of the Department, I will take you up on that offer. Should I take that to mean that you approve of my little alternative schemes?'

'Absolutely,' said Dumbledore.

'Then I might as well go and put some thought into it, and try a few things out,' she said and rose from her seat. 'Oh, yes,' she remembered suddenly and turned back. 'What about the portkeys we discussed?'

'There is one, ready and functional, in Severus's pocket right now.'

Iris grinned broadly at him.

'Good,' she said and left Dumbledore's office.

*

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully at Hogwarts; almost as if nothing unusual had happened the day before, at all. By lunch-time, however, things started changing rapidly. Students started returning to the school.

That event, in itself, didn't mean much. After all, they were expected to return, eventually; but not just yet. Term wasn't due to start till the following week. With all the excitement, hardly anyone at Hogwarts had noticed that it was, now, the first day of the New Year. That same morning, however, parents all over Britain did notice the front page of the Daily Prophet. They noticed it, and then they read it -along with the ten pages that accompanied it -and then they picked up their brooms and started flying their children back to Hogwarts. Everyone in the wizarding world knew the answer to the question 'what is the safest place in Britain?'.

Muggle parents, of course, were rather less well informed. For one thing, most of them didn't get the Daily Prophet delivered to their front door by owl every morning. It was a state of affairs that was very close to being remedied, however, since Dumbledore had spent most of that morning contacting the Muggle parents of his students and advising them to return their children to school early. By the time Dumbledore had finished explaining the situation to them, most of them also thought that it was a wonderful idea. These students weren't expected to arrive until the day after, when they would catch a special service of the Hogwarts Express that Dumbledore had also had the foresight to arrange.

By one o'clock that afternoon, the first of the returning students started trickling in through the front gates. It was a steady trickle that lasted throughout the day, the evening, and into the night, the last group of students finally managing to arrive around nine o'clock.

Hogwarts was buzzing again with chatter, energy, excitement and only a little trepidation.

It was only after dinner that Ron and Hermione managed to steal a moment alone together, after spending the entire day either listening, unproductively, in on Snape's office, or keeping Harry company.

'Harry's not taking this very well, is he?' said Ron in a worried whisper, as he and Hermione skulked off to hide in their secret closet.

'No, he's not. But it's hardly surprising, is it? Imagine what it would have been like if we had told him everything we know!' Hermione replied, reasonably. 'Are you taking this well?'

'No.'

'Well, there you go. It's normal. I'm not either. Any intelligent person wouldn't be taking this well, and I count Harry as being an intelligent person. Anyway, did anything interesting happen on your shift?'

'No. Absolutely nothing happened at all. On yours?'

'Nothing. He hasn't been anywhere near his office since last night -well, this morning, technically -since it was around two-thirty a.m., at the time.'

Ron stared at her in amazement.

'You stayed up all night?!'

'Well, no. Not all night. I gave up after he disappeared again, around the same time. They were in and out of there, pretty quickly,' said Hermione whilst slipping in through the closet's door.

'I'm sorry, did you say "they"?' asked Ron meaningfully as he crept in after her.

'Raveneye was with him,' Hermione said matter-of-factly.

'At two-thirty in the morning?!' Ron exclaimed incredulously.

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

'You're not suspecting something ludicrous and disgusting, are you?' she asked sarcastically.

'Well, what am I supposed to think, under the circumstances?' Ron tried to defend himself unsuccessfully.

'Exactly my point.'

Ron goggled at her.

'You mean you heard them..., ahem, you know...'

Hermione let him suffer for a bit, as he struggled with the words and then started blushing.

'Actually, no. I didn't,' she said in the end, deciding to put him out of his misery. 'They weren't, "ahem, you know".'

'Oh, well, there you go, then,' said Ron, exhibiting spectacular relief.

'That is not to say that all the evidence doesn't point to the contrary, as you should by now be able to admit!' Hermione continued, virtually in the same breath.

'Oh, come off it, Hermione!' Ron complained.

She ignored him; completely.

'Anyway, they walked in, didn't say much, rummaged about for a while, from what I could tell, then Raveneye said something about being desperate for chocolate, Snape said that he wouldn't mind some himself, if you can imagine that, and then they left again.'

Ron stared at her in bewilderment.

'They wanted chocolate? In the middle of the night?! Snape, wanted chocolate?!' he asked in unadulterated disbelief.

'Yup.'

'This is just too bizarre! Who gets sudden cravings for chocolate in the middle of the night?!'

'If you were a girl, you'd understand,' said Hermione mystically. 'Anyway, the strange thing was that both of them wanted chocolate. My guess is that they had a run-in with a Dementor. There's just no other explanation.'

'I love the way you come out with spine-chilling explanations like that, so calmly,' Ron groaned.

'What do you want me to do? Go into hysterics whilst I'm relaying this information to you? How would that help anything? It's not like I like this idea any more than you do; it would mean that a Dementor had been somewhere in the immediate vicinity, and that is not an eventuality I like to consider. But they were both, obviously, in one piece, so they must have successfully dealt with the problem.'

'I hope you're right,' Ron whispered, shaking his head uneasily. 'I definitely hope you're right. If Snape was having chocolate cravings, then it can't have been pretty, whatever happened, I can tell you that!'

'I agree,' said Hermione. 'But what do you want me to do about it? They both seemed calm and collected, I didn't hear anything that would lead me to believe that they were unduly worried about anything, so...' she shrugged.

'I don't know,' said Ron, still shaking his head. 'Anyway, what were they looking for in his office, at that time in the morning? You said it sounded as if they were rummaging about...?'

'Yes. I don't know what they were looking for. They never said. All they kept asking each other was "how about this?", or "how about that?"; but neither of them seemed to like any of the options, so they eventually gave up and left. I think they said something about having a look in Filch's stores. God knows what for!'

Ron screwed up his face in despairing incomprehension.

'I don't understand! Everything just keeps getting weirder and weirder! We'll never get to the bottom of this! And you say he hasn't been in his office since?'

'Nope. Unless he was in and out of there so quickly that we missed him while we were changing shifts, or while we were still sleeping. What time did you start listening this morning?'

'Around eight-ish I think it was.'

'That's a reasonable time. I would have expected him to show up in his office some time during the morning. He has done so, without fail, every day, for the past three weeks. Today he didn't show up at all, and neither of us have seen him anywhere in the school, so, he's either locked up in his room for some inconceivable reason, or he's just not in Hogwarts at all.'

'What's the prize for guessing where he might be instead, then?' asked Ron sneeringly.

'I wouldn't like to make a guess like that,' said Hermione, a little too seriously for Ron's taste. 'He could be absolutely anywhere. He could be out on an errand for Dumbledore, for all we know. He could be out on personal business; or he could have gone to meet you-know-who.'

'I'd put my money on the latter,' said Ron dryly.

'Well, the point is we don't know. Do you want us to ask?'

'Ask?! Who?!' said Ron in horrified disbelief. 'Are you out of your mind?!'

'Well, we can pretend we need to ask him something about some potions assignment, or other, and we can just ask the other teachers if he's here or not.'

Ron's jaw dropped.

'What?'

'I said..'

'-No, don't repeat it! I heard what you said. You're mad! You're absolutely raving mad. And what happens if they say, oh, he's in the staff room, why don't you go up and talk to him?'

'Then we go up and talk to him and pretend we have a question.'

'No. You pretend you have a question. First of all, I refuse to do it. Secondly, if I pretended to have a question, he would be on to us, faster than you could say detention!'

Hermione thought about this admittedly reasonable argument.

'You're probably right. It would be strange if you actually had a question in potions you were so desperate to get the answer for, you actually went looking for him. You haven't said a word to him, voluntarily, in almost five years!'

'I know! And I plan to keep it that way!'

'Fair enough. Do you have any objections if I do it then?'

'None at all. Be my guest,' said Ron with exaggerated graciousness. 'Who are you planning to ask?'

'I think I'll try and corner Flitwick, if I can find him. He's the least likely one to get suspicious, I would think. If I can find him, that is. He seems to have practically disappeared the past couple days too; and so has McGonagall. And, have you noticed that we keep running into Prof. Sprout and Binns all the time, lately?'

'No.'

'Well I have. It's strange.'

'Ok. Let's just try and focus on just one strange thing at a time Hermione, alright? There's so many of them around recently, we'll probably go mad if we try to figure them all out in one go!'

'Ok, ok!' Hermione raised her hands resignedly. 'So, I'll just go and ask someone about Snape, and in the meantime, you stay here and keep on listening, just in case he shows up. I'll come and find you as soon as I can.'

'Yes, yes. Ok. Fine,' moaned Ron. 'I brought a book with me to read this time. It beats listening to the deafening sound of silence coming out of Snape's empty office!'

'Well, it seems there have been at least some beneficial side-effects to this entire exercise in amateur espionage,' beamed Hermione, beatifically.

'Will you just get out of here and quit trying to be funny?' scowled Ron.

'Who's trying to be funny? I'm serious!'

*

An hour later, Hermione had completely failed in her mission to locate Prof. Flitwick, had tried Prof. McGonagall instead with similar results, then Prof. Sinistra and Madam Hooch, but in the end had only managed to run in to Prof. Binns; twice. She had not even attempted to ask him anything, knowing that his usual detachment from worldly matters of the present would more than likely inhibit him from giving her any information of any relevance whatsoever. She was about to give up entirely, a few minutes after her second encounter with Prof. Binns, when she unexpectedly ran into Prof. Sprout. Considering that this was probably her best chance, she decided to ask the vital question.

'Prof. Sprout, do you by any chance know where I can find Prof. Snape?' she asked with her most innocent voice.

Prof. Sprout stopped short and looked at her, mildly surprised at the question. She wasn't accustomed to Gryffindor students asking to see Prof. Snape, voluntarily.

'It's about a potions assignment we have to give in next week,' Hermione added hurriedly.

But then again, this was Hermione Granger, Prof. Sprout considered -no more explanation than that required to her mind.

'I'm afraid I don't know, Miss Granger,' she said kindly. 'I haven't seen the Professor recently.'

'Oh. I see,' said Hermione, rather disappointed with the answer. 'I have been looking for him all day, and I haven't been able to find him. He's not in his office... Do you know whether he's in the school?' she said in an effort to prompt a more enlightening reply.

'I don't see where else he could be. I, at least, am not aware of him having left Hogwarts today. Have you tried the Staff Room?' Prof. Sprout said.

'I haven't yet. I have been trying to find someone I could ask...'

'Well, I think the Staff Room is the place you are most likely to find the Professor. Would you like me to take you?'

'Yes, please,' said Hermione enthusiastically and followed Prof. Sprout towards what she hoped would be an answer to her question.

Prof. Sprout opened the Staff Room door and stepped in, allowing Hermione to peer in after her. The room was empty, but for one dark figure almost completely hidden by the tall back of an armchair sitting in front of the roaring fire. Only the black hem of the figure's robes was visible from the door, and no more than a sliver of a black sleeve on the arm of the chair. A sudden fluttering emptiness developed in the pit of Hermione's stomach. Oh dear, he's here, she thought.

'Ah,' exclaimed Prof. Sprout calmly and, at the sound of her voice, the figure turned. Hermione's eyes widened, in surprise. 'Prof. Raveneye, I'm sorry to disturb you, but this young lady was in search of Prof. Snape. Have you seen him around, by any chance?'

Iris's eyes turned slowly on Hermione standing awkwardly behind Sprout. They held Hermione's eyes locked to her own, for a moment, and Hermione was forced to suppress a shudder. Prof. Raveneye's gaze always was piercing, and rather on the cool side, but this was on a different scale altogether. Her eyes seemed darker than usual, and gave the impression they were covered with a sparkling film of ice, like a frozen mirror; all you could see in them was your own reflection. There were purple circles around them.

'Miss Granger,' Iris said flatly. 'I'm afraid I can't help you. What do you need to see Prof. Snape about?'

'Well... erm... it's about this potions assignment we, er... have to hand in next week...' Hermione managed with a lot more difficulty than she had encountered when delivering the same line to Prof. Sprout. Somehow it was much harder lying in the face of that gaze. It hadn't occurred to her that it was likely she would run into Prof. Raveneye in the Staff Room. If it had, she might have reconsidered her visit there. Prof. Raveneye didn't figure highly in her list of people she would have considered asking for information on the whereabouts of Snape.

'If I see him, I will be sure to tell him,' Iris said in the same calm, expressionless tone, but something glimmered in the depths of her eyes, and Hermione thought she saw them narrow, imperceptibly.

'Er, thank you Professor,' said Hermione, uncertainly. 'I'm sure I'll be able to find him tomorrow, though...'

'I'm sure you will,' said Iris evenly.

'Thank you, Iris. And sorry to disturb you,' Prof. Sprout said, preparing to leave again.

'Not at all,' came the cool reply, and Prof. Sprout and Hermione retreated, while Iris turned back to staring at the fire.

*

'Oh my God, Ron, that was absolutely horrific!' Hermione exclaimed quietly as she clambered into the hidden closet.

'What happened? Did you find him?' Ron asked excitedly.

'No, although now I rather wish I had. It can't have been worse than what happened instead! I ran into Raveneye in the Staff Room.'

'That was worse than finding Snape?!' asked Ron incredulously. 'Have you gone loopy?'

'No, Ron, I tell you it was worse.'

'Has she suddenly transformed into some terrible bloodsucking monster since the last time I saw her, because if she hasn't, then I don't see how it could have been worse than running into Snape and having to lie to him!'

'I had to lie to her instead. And that was unbelievably hard to do!' said Hermione.

Ron stared at her incomprehensibly.

'You've lied to her before. What's the big deal?'

'She's changed, Ron. There's something completely different about her. I tell you, it was scary. Her eyes...'

'Her eyes are always scary. She has this cold, expressionless thing going most of the time, you should be used to it by now.'

'No. It's different. It's worse. She looked at me and a shiver went down my spine. It was like looking at some inanimate, reflecting... thing... mirror; I don't know how to describe it. It's like the life has been sucked out of her, or something. She had purple circles round her eyes and she was really pale... Like she hasn't slept in days.'

'She probably hasn't, with all that skulking around Hogwarts with Snape in the middle of the bloody night. You said so yourself. Come on, she just had a late night yesterday, and she was tired, that's all there is to it!' said Ron, the voice of reason.

'You would have to see her to understand,' said Hermione shaking her head. 'It wasn't just a late night we're talking about. But, anyway, I managed to come out with the stupid line, although I'm not sure that she completely fell for it.'

'What?' asked Ron. 'You mean she didn't believe that Hermione Granger was being overly zealous over one of her assignments? That's not possible. Even Snape would fall for that one!'

'Yes, but she doesn't know me as well as he does. She's only been here for a few months.'

'That's all that's needed; trust me,' said Ron sagely. 'It's all in your imagination. You were just a bit nervous and imagined it all.'

'Yeah, right!' said Hermione sarcastically. 'Anyway, the whole operation was a complete failure. I couldn't find Flitwick, or McGonagall, or Sinistra. I ran into Binns twice, and then into Sprout! I mean, how bizarre is that!? Sprout took me to the Staff Room in search for Snape, which leads me to think that she genuinely doesn't know where he is, but believes him to be somewhere in Hogwarts. Raveneye didn't know anything either..., although...'

'Although, what?' asked Ron suspiciously.

'Come to think of it, she didn't actually say, "I don't know", or "haven't seen him"....'

'What did she say then?'

'She said "I'm afraid I can't help you"... That doesn't necessarily mean she doesn't know, does it?' asked Hermione.

'No. It doesn't. In fact, it sounds like "I'm not going to tell you" to me!' Ron said meaningfully. 'What else did she say?'

'She said that she would tell him I'm looking for him when she sees him. Then I said that I would probably find him tomorrow in his office, and she said "I'm sure you will".'

'Yup. That definitely sounds like "I know where he is and I'm not saying",' concluded Ron summarily. 'The only problem is that that doesn't tell us if he's in Hogwarts or not. It only tells us that, wherever he might be, Raveneye knows about it and isn't telling.'

'You think so?' asked Hermione hesitantly.

'Absolutely. You just wait and see. It will all come out in the end. I'm starting to think that they're mixed up in something, together... Is that possible, or is all this madness rubbing off on me and making me paranoid?!'

'I don't know,' said Hermione pensively. 'I don't know how likely it is, but it's definitely not impossible. But, if Raveneye knows, then it's also possible that other teachers might know too. Just because Sprout didn't... I mean, Dumbledore might know too.'

'Not necessarily,' said Ron. 'We've been through this before. It's the reason we started this insanity in the first place, remember?'

'Yeah, I remember. We're still no closer to finding anything out though, are we? I wish we had another Earspy!'

'Another one?!' Ron exclaimed. 'So we could spend every waking hour with our ears glued to two of these things? Where would you put it, anyway? In the Staff Room? That is simply not possible!'

'Actually, I was thinking about planting it in Raveneye's office. Do you think we could move the one we have?' she asked earnestly.

'You're mad!' Ron screamed.

'Ssshhhh!' said Hermione frantically, her forefinger over her lips. 'Do you want people to hear you at the other end of the school?'

'I don't care!' he screamed again. 'We are NOT moving that Earspy! End of story! I am NOT going to do that again, do you understand? I am NOT going to go into Snape's office, take that thing out and then put it in Raveneye's office instead. The Earspy stays where it is. Is that clear?!'

'Ok, ok! Calm down!' said Hermione placatingly. 'Calm down. It's ok. The Earspy stays where it is.'

Ron exhaled exasperatedly and shook his head in desperation.

'We're just going to have to keep listening then. But we're going to have to change the shifts a bit. I think we're going to have to start staying up later, don't you?' Hermione said.

'Yeah, I guess,' said Ron grudgingly. 'Since no one else seems to need to sleep at night, I guess we're going to have to turn into vampires too. But, I tell you, I'm only willing to go along with this for a little while longer, ok?' he added meaningfully. 'I've had just about enough of this. If nothing more comes of it soon, you're going to have to come up with another plan, alright?'

'Yes, yes, alright,' said Hermione resignedly. 'Now, what're we going to do about tonight?'

'You stay and listen on, and I'll go hang out with Harry for a while. Then we'll change over, and after Harry's gone to bed we can both stay up for a while longer. What'd you think?'

'Fine. It's a deal,' said Hermione. 'If anything spectacular happens while you're away, I'll come and find you; and vice versa, ok?'

'Vice what?'

'And the opposite,' Hermione said slowly.

'Speak English woman! Sure, I'll come find you if something spectacular happens. Like that's likely!' he added bitterly.

She tutted and rolled her eyes as Ron got up and scrambled out of the closet.

Had the landscape outside changed, since he was last here, or was it just his imagination? He had only caught a brief glimpse of it last time, and he didn't get a much better look this time either. Besides, he hadn't really looked closely last time on his arrival, and it had been pitch black when he had left. This time, the sun had been shining brightly when he had arrived, although its feeble attempts at warmth had been negligible; the house was so cold he could see his breath steaming from his mouth. He had glanced out the large window in the vast hallway and had seen crisp frost lying on the ground and gnarled, twisted trees, bare like writhing silhouettes outside, standing in a semi-circle around the east side of the house. That was east? Surely that window had been facing south last time.

He shook his head and the troublesome thoughts from his mind. It couldn't be. It had to be his imagination playing tricks on him again, like last time, when he had imagined he had seen the gleam of a cat's eyes outside the kitchen window.

He started moving towards the concealed door beneath the stairs that led to the cellar and their usual meeting place when a voice from one of the rooms off to his right stopped him.

'Ah, Snape, you're here.'

He turned, his eyes darting immediately to the precise location of the sound.

'Marcus,' Snape acknowledge the voice's owner flatly.

'We were wondering whether you would be able to make it. I'm glad to see that you have. Lord Voldermort seems very keen to see you. He would have been very disappointed if you had not been able to put in an appearance,' Marcus Ireson said in a light tone that carried an inordinate amount of malevolence.

Snape walked silently into the room. Obviously, this was not a general meeting; he had been called specifically. It was not entirely surprising, although the position was definitely unattractive.

'Apparently I'm not the only one he has expressed a desire to see,' he said with a faint sneer, as he picked a place to stand that allowed him to keep a reasonable distance between himself and Ireson while still remaining in the same room.

'Indeed not,' said Ireson evenly.

'Who else is here?' asked Snape.

'Oh, there are a few of us around. Some more on their way, I would imagine. Why do you ask?'

'Idle curiosity,' said Snape smoothly without so much as a pause.

'Hasn't anyone told you that curiosity frequently proves to be a lethal condition?'

'As do so many others,' said Snape coldly and turned to gaze out the window. Had that hill been there last time? And... hadn't there been an old plane tree near the front entrance? He leaned forward slightly and tried to glimpse side-ways out towards the front of the house. He couldn't see.

'Find the countryside appealing, Snape?' asked Ireson casually.

'On occasion.'

He stayed at the window, as if gazing outside, but he wasn't really looking at the view any more. He couldn't make up his mind about it anyway, but anything was better than having to continue looking at Ireson's evil mug.

The stillness of the house was suddenly interrupted by a spine-chilling, agonised scream coming from somewhere upstairs that made Snape whirl around in surprised horror. His eyes darted upwards and then at Ireson who was standing exactly where he had been, impassively unimpressed. The scream continued. For a moment it seemed to abate and then it started again, with renewed anguish.

Suppressing a shudder, he stared questioningly at Ireson.

Ireson shrugged dispassionately.

'Initiation rite,' was all he said by way of explanation.

Snape's brow furrowed, but he forced himself to turn calmly back to the window. At least Ireson wouldn't be able to see his face and the expression of horror that threatened his composure as the screaming continued. He was starting to feel sick. He wondered whether the poor sod upstairs had had any idea what they had been letting themselves in for. Probably not, he concluded. He couldn't imagine anyone willingly putting themselves in that position if they had known what would follow. He hadn't known, all those years back when it had all started. He had been young and remarkably naïve -not that that was any excuse. He had never been one for excuses; there were not enough excuses in the world to justify the things he had done. Still, he hadn't known. At least in the beginning, he hadn't known. Now... well, now was a different story.

The screaming stopped; as suddenly as it had started. Snape closed his eyes for a moment and found himself exhaling in relief.

Silence...

He gazed out, longingly at the trees. If only he could just leave...

'That was interesting,' he heard Ireson's emotionless voice behind him and Snape closed his eyes again, this time in an attempt to control the disgust that rose up inside him like a tidal wave. He said nothing.

Hurried pattering of steps coming down the marble staircase alerted him to the approach of a third person. He could recognise that harried, nervous walk anywhere.

'Oh, Severus,' came the edgy voice from behind him. 'You're here.'

Snape turned slowly to face Peter Pettigrew. He said nothing.

'I'll tell the Master that you've arrived,' Pettigrew said, rubbing his precious silver hand distractedly. 'He will be happy to hear it. You might have to wait a while, though. The Master is very busy today.'

'Of course,' said Snape flatly.

Pettigrew bobbed his head up and down restively and scampered off without another word.

'Looks like we're going to be here for a while,' said Ireson casually and sank, languidly into a large armchair. 'I hope you don't have anything urgent to attend to.'

'I don't,' said Snape and turned back to the window. The open, peaceful countryside outside was becoming more and more attractive by the second, as the interior of the house became less and less so, and he chose to let his mind wander out through the trees and over the distant rolling hills, as far as he could imagine reaching. His body may have been trapped in that house, but his mind was his own to do with as he pleased.

He was distracted for a moment by Pettigrew's nervous footsteps trotting up the stairs again, but he quickly let his mind drift back out the other side of the window and into the countryside. Minutes passed that seemed like seconds. He didn't notice Ireson leave the room for a while and then come back again.

More minutes passed, and he kept on waiting; thinking.

The faint pop coming from the hallway and announcing the arrival of another Death Eater only barely registered. Somewhere in the back of his mind the thought occurred to him that he wished he didn't have to see anyone else, but his conscious mind was so aware of the inevitability of the outcome that the thought barely had time to form before it was forgotten again. Sure enough, heavy, blundering footsteps began approaching, crossing the room's threshold and stopping just inside the open double doors.

'Ireson, Snape,' said Goyle roughly. 'I see you're already here.'

Why can't someone come up with a different line, for a change, Snape thought as he turned slowly from the window; although, admittedly, that might have been asking a bit too much from Goyle.

'As you can see,' he said flatly.

'Welcome to our little gathering,' said Ireson with a light sneer that was completely lost on Goyle.

'Where's your other half?' asked Snape mockingly.

'What?'

'I think he means Crabb,' Ireson offered.

'Oh. He'll be coming later,' Goyle said and made his way to a large comfortable sofa and sat himself down. 'He's just doing a little job for Lucius.'

'What a surprise!' murmured Snape, as he turned back to stare out the window.

Ireson smirked at Snape's comment, but didn't say anything.

'So, what have you been up to, Snape?' Goyle asked gruffly. 'We haven't seen you for a while.'

'I come when I'm called,' Snape said evenly without turning.

'I bet you do.'

'Much like yourself,' Snape added off-handedly. 'Only Lucius does much of the calling in your case.'

'What of that?' Goyle asked, the insult flying clean over his head.

Ireson sniggered quietly to himself.

'Nothing,' said Snape.

Goyle shrugged and settled more comfortably in the depths of the sofa.

Another agonised cry from upstairs, shorter lived this time, echoed round the room. Snape's brow twitched slightly, but he stayed where he was. Goyle turned to look at Ireson impassively.

'Initiation?'

'Yes.'

Goyle nodded approvingly and yawned expansively.

'Good. How many?'

'Just one for now. I don't know if they'll be others later.'

'Can't stand early mornings,' Goyle yawned again. ''s it been going on long?'

'Should be finishing soon.'

'Anyone I know?'

'Shouldn't think so. You'll meet him soon enough I'd guess.'

'Yeah, I guess. What time is it, anyway?'

Ireson looked at an elaborate, gold pocket watch he pulled out of his robes grudgingly.

'Ten thirty.'

Already, Snape wondered silently. It seemed like he had left Iris's room no more than a few minutes ago, and yet over three hours had gone by. Strange. Not entirely surprising if he took the trouble to think about it, but strange nevertheless. His musings were cut short by another faint pop coming from the hallway. It was immediately followed by a second. Thirty galleons on it being Malfoy and Crabb, he placed a little bet with himself.

I win, he smirked cynically, as he heard Malfoy's sleek, malicious voice behind him.

'I see the old school is having a reunion.'

At least the bastard managed to come up with a different line, finally. Evil, twisted and quite insane Malfoy may have been, but he definitely was not stupid.

'We're still missing a few people,' Snape said acidly, without bothering to turn and look at Malfoy.

'Not for long, old friend, not for long!'

Snape cringed inwardly at being called a friend by Malfoy, but if there was one pretence it was vital that he kept up, it was his supposed friendship with Lucius Malfoy. He turned to look at him.

'I'd like to see you manage to convince Karkaroff to join up again,' he sneered in what may have been considered amusement, by some.

Malfoy laughed coldly.

'I will make sure you're present when I do. He won't be able to hide for long. No one can! When we find him, I'll send you an invitation for the re-initiation ceremony.'

'I will be waiting with bated breath.'

'I'm sure you will be. By the way, my thanks for your letter this morning. Although it was not strictly necessary, it's nice to know that you still have our best interests in mind. Narcissa will be making all the necessary arrangements for Draco today.'

Snape nodded calmly.

'Of course... It was the least I could do.'

'I couldn't help but notice the change in courier, Severus. Impressive -and very appropriate, I thought. Recent acquisition of yours?'

'Relatively. Although I would hesitate to call it an acquisition.'

'Oh? Am I to assume that its services are voluntary? Have you finally taken the plunge again, Severus?' Malfoy asked slyly.

'It appears so,' said Snape indulgently.

'How long is it that you have been without a familiar? I had become convinced that you would never again go down that path. Obviously I underestimated you.'

'Obviously,' sneered Snape.

'So, how long has it been? Thirteen, fourteen years?' Malfoy insisted.

'Sixteen.'

'As long as that? Well, time does indeed fly. So, what is your new familiar's name? Or is that question inappropriate?'

'Hades.'

Malfoy seemed impressed.

'Indeed? How interesting. I would have thought you would have steered well away from gods and goddesses this time -after the unfortunate incident with Morrigan, that is.'

'I rated appropriateness above superstition.'

'Obviously. In any case, if I may say so, the crow somehow seems to be better suited to you. I was never entirely sure about the wolf.'

Snape's eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his composure.

'But, then again, what do I know?' Malfoy added shrewdly, seeing the dangerous look in Snape's eyes. 'You were obviously very attached to her; she must have been an outstanding familiar.'

'She was,' said Snape shortly.

No one in the room had noticed Pettigrew appearing again by the door behind them; they had been too immersed in Malfoy's and Snape's little repartee. Ireson's sharp, devious mind had been keeping mental notes on a number of different subjects he had not been familiar with; no pun intended, he sniggered to himself; while Crabb and Goyle just found the image of Malfoy conversing with someone on a roughly equal basis plainly fascinating. It was something they rarely had the occasion to witness.

'Ahem,' came Pettigrew's anxious voice from the door and everyone in the room turned to face him, simultaneously. They saw him physically flinch under the sudden scrutiny, but he quickly pulled himself together again, and returned to rubbing his silver hand distractedly.

'Marcus, the Master would like to see you now,' he said hurriedly, and Ireson immediately rose from his seat. He followed Pettigrew from the room and up the sweeping staircase without a word, leaving behind him a tense silence which the remaining occupants of the room hurriedly exorcised by deciding to move around the room for the first time in over an hour. Snape returned to his window, Crabb took a seat beside Goyle, and Malfoy took possession of the armchair that Ireson had been occupying up until that point.

'So, Severus, you really think taking Draco back to Hogwarts today is a wise move?' Malfoy asked, with his back still turned to Snape.

'I wouldn't have advised you to do so, otherwise,' replied Snape curtly. 'Unless you have any information that I'm not aware of.'

'No, I don't.'

'Even if you had, it would still be the best move. Dumbledore doesn't discriminate between the students. He would make sure Draco was protected from whatever... threat... Besides, it makes you seem like a concerned parent.'

'It does, doesn't it? Malfoy considered smugly, as if it had been his idea.

'I thought you'd appreciate that aspect of the exercise,' Snape sneered, once again disgusted with Malfoy but just about managing to keep his tone inoffensive, as he gazed up at a particularly beautiful cluster of white clouds travelling swiftly along the horizon, on the back of a brisk winter breeze. Yes, definitely more attractive to look at than the occupants of the room behind him. Considering the available options, he decided to go for the clouds.

Conversation ceased for a while, Malfoy contemplating the merits of giving the world the impression of an innocently concerned parent, Crabb and Goyle almost dozing off from the boredom generated by the sheer lack of activity in their brains, and Snape continuing his futile attempts at escape from his own personal version of hell, on the back of white clouds and rays of sunlight glinting off melting frost.

The sun was shedding its weak diffused light courageously from the zenith of its course, in the middle of a pale, cold winter sky at noon, and still Ireson had not reappeared. Snape had drawn up a chair near the window and was now finally sitting, fatigue eventually starting to catch up with him. Crabb and Goyle had started getting restless, since the diversions offered by their own minds were rather limited, while Malfoy seemed completely unaffected by the fact that he had been sitting, with nothing to do but to wait, for the past hour and a half. Conversation had also dried up over an hour ago, although Snape did not feel that this was any great loss. Silence suited him perfectly well.

Then they heard a door open, upstairs, followed by the sound of steps making their way down the corridor and then the staircase. Crabb and Goyle suddenly perked up; something other than silence was finally happening and, right now, they would have been willing to kill -literally -for some distraction, any distraction. Unsurprisingly, Pettigrew appeared again.

'Lucius,' was all he said, rather tetchily. He seemed to be getting a bit tired with the role of butler, housekeeper, errand-boy, valet and murderer all in one. His choices in the matter were rather limited, however, so his demeanour always retained at least some vestiges of servility.

Malfoy rose and followed Pettigrew up the stairs and Snape was left alone with Crabb and Goyle who sighed, disappointedly, and sank back down into their sofa.

Another hour passed uneventfully. Goyle was dozing off comfortably in his end of the sofa, while Crabb toyed distractedly with the hem of his robes, yawning idly. Then, footsteps sounded on the stairs again.

Crabb looked up expectantly while Snape turned slowly, more out of instinct than actual interest. Fatigue was well and truly setting in now. Absently, he tried to remember how long it had been since he had last slept, but decided that it didn't really matter anyway, and promptly lost the thought in the haze of all the other half-formed thoughts that milled around in his mind.

Ireson was coming down the stairs, he noticed. And suddenly Snape was paying attention again. Ireson was accompanied by a second figure that was definitely not Pettigrew, or Malfoy for that matter. Snape leaned forward slightly trying to get a better look at the man coming down the stairs on Ireson's far side, but all he could see were the usual black robes that all Death Eaters sported when summoned by Voldermort. This had to be the new initiate whose tortured screams had been echoing around the house over two hours ago. Obviously he had recovered to a certain extent from Voldermort's customary demonstration of what the punishment of ineptitude, lying, or cowardice in a Death Eater entailed. The punishment for disloyalty was not demonstrated since it would automatically deprive Voldermort of the services of the new initiate. One could only demonstrate death once.

The burning of the dark mark itself in the initiate's left forearm wasn't pleasant either, Snape remembered. Still, it paled in comparison to what the earlier parts of the initiation felt like. Most initiates didn't recover this quickly -this one must have been one of the hardier ones, he thought, as he watched the two black figures descend the last step of the staircase and turn to make their way towards the room.

Snape's eyes narrowed imperceptibly as they fell on the pale, slightly drawn face for the first time, and the man's tired, bloodshot, but still coldly piercing gaze met his own.

'Snape, I believe you two are already acquainted,' said Ireson casually and immediately turned to Crabb and Goyle. 'This is Crabb and this is his other half, Goyle. It's unlikely you'll ever see one without the other, so there's no point trying to remember who is who,' he added lightly. 'Crabb, Goyle, the Master wished me to introduce a new member of the circle to you, Aidan White. Try and remember what he looks like, please; I wouldn't like to have to explain it to the Master if anything untoward happened to him by accident on any of your less pleasant expeditions in Muggle land.'

'Yeah, ok,' said Crabb, peering at Aidan intently.

'Ok,' echoed Goyle, still trying to wake up properly from his earlier snooze. 'White, is it? Ok.'

'What's he going to be doing in Muggle land, anyway?' Crabb asked, saving Snape the trouble of asking the question himself; besides, it seemed so much more innocent coming from the great, hulking oaf, Crabb.

'That's a secret,' said Ireson silkily. 'All you need to know is that he's ours and if you come across him, don't kill him.'

'Fair enough,' said Goyle, perfectly content with that explanation, and settled back comfortably into the sofa.

'Been promoted then?' sneered Snape in an attempt to draw some more information out of Ireson or White. Both of them turned and stared at him.

'Competence is always rewarded,' said Ireson mystically.

'Presumably you won't be appearing in Hogwarts again for some time then,' said Snape, addressing Aidan this time. He was starting to find the way Ireson kept speaking for White annoying, now.

'I would expect that to be highly unlikely,' said Aidan flatly.

'Just as well I suppose. We wouldn't want you running into anyone you know, again, would we?'

Ireson turned and looked at Aidan questioningly, while Snape stared at him intently, not taking his eyes off Aidan's for even a second. There was definitely a little flicker of surprise there, for a moment, but nothing more. It only touched the depths of his eyes; the rest of his countenance remaining remarkably impassive. Snape had to grudgingly admit that this White fellow was good.

'White, what's he talking about?' asked Ireson darkly.

'I have no idea,' said Aidan calmly, staring unflinchingly back at Snape. 'I can only assume that he's referring to a young colleague of his that burst, unannounced, into his office while I was there last time. Apparently they don't abide by ceremony much at Hogwarts any more.'

'And...?' Ireson prompted Aidan on sinisterly.

'And, nothing,' Aidan said with a shrug. 'Snape obviously thought he saw something that was entirely in his imagination.'

'Snape?' Ireson turned to him suddenly.

'Mr. White seemed a trifle surprised at encountering said colleague. In fact, the words utter astonishment, spring to mind,' Snape said coldly.

Ireson turned back silently to stare at Aidan. On the sofa, Crabb and Goyle were finding this performance positively enthralling; most of the more significant nuances were going clean over their heads, but they were leaning forward, watching on interestedly, nevertheless, aware that something of significance was going on, even though they were not quite sure what exactly that was. If nothing else, it was definitely more entertaining than silence.

To Snape's complete and utter surprise, Aidan suddenly smirked, mischievously, and his entire demeanour changed. His eyes sparkled wickedly, his body language seemed suddenly relaxed and he turned to Ireson with a roguishly conspiratorial look on his face.

'Ok, you got me! I almost ran into her, physically, at the door of Snape's office as I was about to leave,' Aidan began, as if Snape wasn't there. 'I tell you, you should have seen her! An absolute peach! I'm talking grade A, prime cut of spring lamb! A peach!! Eyes ye big; hair, dark, wavy, down to here,' he indicated the small of his back with his hand, 'and the lips, don't even get me started on the lips; full, sculptured, inviting, moist, blood red. What can I say? I was stunned. Couldn't help it! You should have seen her! An absolute peach!! And, you know what, I think she liked me!'

Ireson turned slowly and shot Snape a sly, sidelong glance accompanied by an evil smirk. Snape was sitting there, gaping at Aidan in utter astonishment, or was that shock?

'Oh, it's a she,' said Ireson meaningfully, without taking his eyes off Snape. 'Well, that explains it all, doesn't it? Trust old Snape here not to even notice he's got a thing like that coming and going in his office all this time. You need to get out more, Snape. Is it possible you mistook lust for recognition? I don't think even you are capable of such a mistake! Could it have been just... jealousy? Were you just jealous of the young ones here?' he added wickedly in the end.

Snape clenched his teeth and his eyes narrowed dangerously, but he managed to remain composed

'Unlikely,' he growled.

'Was she really that good?' Goyle interjected, with sudden acute interest.

'Oh, yes!' Aidan confirmed.

'We should keep that in mind, for when we take Hogwarts,' Crabb nudged Goyle, with an ugly, lusty leer.

'Damn right. A pretty witch wouldn't go amiss as a prize after all the hard work. We should try not to kill her before we get the chance to have some fun.'

'Definitely,' Crabb agreed.

'I have first bids, though,' Aidan interrupted Crabb and Goyle's little excursion into fantasy-land. 'I saw her first!'

'That's right, young White, here claims salvage rights,' Ireson said amusedly, shooting Snape another wicked stare. Snape's knuckles had started turning white as he clenched the arms of his chair fiercely, in an effort to control himself.

'Oh, alright. We'll think about it,' Goyle agreed grudgingly. 'But you can't keep her!'

'Of course not,' said Ireson simply, as if they were discussing the rightful ownership of a stolen vase. 'Everyone is entitled to some fun. Even Snape might decide he wants a go if something like that's on offer.'

'Of course,' Aidan agreed with a shrug. 'When's another chance with a woman like that going to come along? I wouldn't want to deprive anyone of that experience!' he added with an impish smile.

Crabb and Goyle laughed.

'You see, boys, young White here's got the spirit of the game spot on!' said Ireson and motioned to Aidan that they should be leaving.

Crabb and Goyle laughed even harder and nudged each other inanely, while Ireson turned to leave and Aidan followed a step behind him. Just before he stepped out of the room, Aidan turned his head, briefly, and looked at Snape one last time, their eyes locking for a moment. From one second to the next, Aidan's mischievous grin had disappeared and his gaze had reacquired its usual flat frostiness, but now there was something menacing lurking in its depths, and it was directed specifically at Snape. Snape reciprocated, without flinching, his eyes narrowed and laden with cold aversion.

He could see that, unsurprisingly, he was not going to be getting along with this newest member of the Death Eater circle. His palms were almost starting to bleed from the pressure he had been exerting on the arms of his chair for the past five minutes, but he still found it hard to pull his hands away. With sudden decisiveness, he pushed himself up from his seat and started pacing the room, mostly as a means to release the rage that was boiling up inside him, and to avoid having to listen to Crabb and Goyle's continued discussion of their future plans involving Iris.

Pettigrew's voice from the door calling him upstairs came as an almost welcome surprise a few minutes later. He swept up the stairs after him, all irrelevant thoughts concerning anything that wasn't of immediate interest, quickly and effectively pushed to the back of his mind. Encounters with Voldermort required focus.

He was shown into a large, comfortable room with a roaring fire burning in the fireplace in one end. It was sparsely furnished, with nothing more than an enormous armchair, a writing desk and a chair in it. The heavy, velvet, blood-red curtains on the windows were half drawn. Curled round the foot of the armchair, near the fire, a huge constrictor snake seemed to be sleeping, peacefully. Voldermort was standing silently next to the armchair, red eyes gleaming eerily in the flickering light of the fire, the shadows cast upwards throwing his thin, scull-like face into sharp relief. Lucius Malfoy stood quietly near the far end of the desk.

'Severus,' Voldermort hissed calmly. 'So glad you could join us.'

Snape bowed his head and went down, briefly, on one knee.

'Master,' he said quietly in greeting, as he rose.

'I will be wanting to talk to you more extensively, later on, but for now, Lucius has just been telling me that you have acquired a new familiar, Severus. Is that true?' Voldermort asked flatly.

'Yes, Master.'

'Were you going to tell me about it, Severus, or were you going to wait for me to find out from someone else?'

Snape was surprised by this unexpected interrogation concerning his familiar, but he managed to remain impassive in the face of it, and hoped Voldermort's interest would prove to be in his favour, rather than the opposite. If nothing else, Malfoy's big mouth had sped things up a bit, as he had hoped it would have.

'I was going to ask your permission, today, to present Hades to you,' Snape said evenly, head still bowed, avoiding eye contact with Voldermort, as much as possible. Voldermort always appreciated a good performance in servility and demureness.

'I'm very glad to hear that,' Voldermort purred sinisterly. 'You know I don't like my Death Eaters keeping secrets from me, don't you, Severus?'

'Yes, Master.'

'And I can think of few things that can carry more secrets than a wizard's familiar. I want to be personally acquainted with all my Death Eaters' familiars, Severus -just to make sure....' his voice drifted off malevolently.

'Yes, Master.'

'So, will you be so kind as to call your familiar, for me, Severus?'

Snape's eyes darted questioningly to Voldermort's face, and immediately he regretted it. Those black slits for pupils, sitting in a red pool of what could only have been blood, seemed to pierce through your scull and look straight into your brain. A silent shiver went down Snape's spine.

'But Master, it might take him hours, or even days to get here... depending on where we...'

'You're not arguing with me Severus, are you?' Voldermort interrupted him, calmly. 'And you're not asking questions that you shouldn't be asking; like where exactly are we? Are you... Severus?' Voldermort's voice hissed slowly, dangerously.

'No, Master,' said Snape, a strange, detached calmness in his voice.

'Good,' said Voldermort approvingly. 'Now call him.'

Snape moved to the window without another word. He drew the curtains a bit further apart, opened the window slightly, and pulled his wand out from within the folds of his robes.

'Accio Hades,' he said, pointing his wand out the open window. A slight, chilly breeze stole into the room and fluttered around him making the hem of his robes rustle quietly. He closed the window again and turned back to face Voldermort.

'Good,' Voldermort repeated. 'Now you can go. We will talk again when your familiar gets here.'

'As you wish, Master,' Snape said and immediately headed for the door.

Hours passed; uneventful hours. Crabb and Goyle went upstairs, then they came back again. Pettigrew appeared, then disappeared again, several times; Lucius left, then came back again, retreating upstairs for a further few hours. Avery showed up, briefly, but left without exchanging so much as a word with Snape. A number of people he was vaguely familiar with, came and went, but besides all the coming and going, or maybe despite of it, nothing of any actual interest happened.

It was dark outside, when Malfoy with his two stooges finally left, and Snape remained alone in the chilly, empty room, with the moonlight starting to shine in through the open curtains. By now, he could feel his eyes beginning to burn and the exhaustion was making him feel the cold more than usual -he could feel it in his bones. His hands were icy cold and the occasional shiver rippled down his spine and crawled over his flesh; no amount of pacing up and down the room seemed to be able to warm him up. He had no idea what time it was and, frankly, he didn't really care. He was too tired to care.

He sat down for a moment, but quickly got up again. If he remained seated for more than a few seconds he felt that he wouldn't be able to get up again. He returned to pacing the room. The moon crept a few more notches up into the sky and finally Pettigrew appeared at the door.

'Severus, the Master is ready to see you now.'

Finally, the end is in sight, he thought, as he followed Pettigrew up the stairs once again.

He walked into the room and saw Voldermort standing by the window, with Hades perched on his arm. The image somehow made him feel uncomfortable, which surprised him, mildly. Nothing could surprise him too much, at this point.

'He is an admirable specimen,' Voldermort said lightly, looking from Snape to Hades and back again.

'Yes, Master. He is,' Snape agreed; not that he would have said anything different, even if he had thought so.

Voldermort's skeletal finger moved to stroke Hades under his beak and Snape shivered again. The room was much warmer than the one downstairs, but it didn't seem to be making much difference.

'Now, Severus, why don't you tell me all about your little encounter with my Dementors last night?' said Voldermort conversationally.

We shouldn't have let that last Dementor go, thought Snape vainly, even though he knew that there wasn't much they could have done about it.

'What would you like to know, Master?' he asked instead.

'Let's start with why you thought it wise to kill five of my precious Dementors.'

'They attacked us, Master. There wasn't much we could do.'

'I see. And who is "we", exactly?'

'There was another teacher from Hogwarts with me at the time.'

'This wouldn't be the newest of Dumbledore's recruits, would it?' asked Voldermort casually, knowing what the answer to that question would be, full well.

'Yes, it was.'

'And what were you two doing so far from Hogwarts in the middle of the night, Severus?'

'We were following Dumbledore's orders, Master. We were setting up a Dementor Alarm.'

'Really?' said Voldermort with profound interest, briefly pausing in his continued stroking of Hades's neck. 'You must tell me all about that. Which brings me nicely on to the reason I summoned you here in the first place. What is old Dumbledore doing to prepare Hogwarts for the oncoming conflict?'

'Besides the Dementor Alarm...'

'I take it you and your young friend succeeded admirably in your venture and Hogwarts now has a fully operational Dementor Alarm...' Voldermort interrupted him.

'Yes, Master. It is operational.'

'And what does it do, exactly, Severus?'

'It makes a loud noise and points to the general direction from which Dementors are approaching.'

Voldermort chuckled emotionlessly.

'How quaint! Did you come up with that, Severus?'

'Not exclusively.'

'Your young colleague helped, presumably?'

'Yes.'

'How charming... What else has Dumbldore done then?'

'He has had McGonagall and Flitwick place numerous ward charms all around the perimeter of the school grounds, he has placed a total fly-by barrier over the school, and...' Snape hesitated, cringing slightly at what he was about to say.

'And...?' Voldermort prompted him on.

'He has told Sybil Trelawney to concentrate all her divination efforts in your direction, Master,' said Snape resignedly.

Voldermort turned sharply to look at him.

'He has done what?' he asked sinisterly.

'He has told Sybil Trelawney to concentrate all her divination efforts in your direction, Master,' Snape repeated, verbatim.

Voldermort continued staring at him, for a moment. Then suddenly, he started laughing; a cold, cruel, mirthless laugh.

'I thought that was what you said, but for a moment I wondered whether my ears were deceiving me,' he purred, and continued laughing. 'Sybil Trelawney,' he breathed to himself between chuckles. 'Priceless. He really must be desperate. You're not making this up, are you Severus?' he asked evenly after a moment.

'No Master,' said Snape, giving for all the world the impression of calmness.

'No, of course, you're not. You couldn't possibly have made this up. This is the old fool Dumbledore, through and through... That's it? That is all he has done?'

'As far as I know, Master,' said Snape.

'Are you quite sure, Severus?' Voldermort said lightly.

'Yes, Master,' said Snape steadily, forcing his heartbeat to slow down by sheer willpower alone and his breathing to come at an even rate. His face and gaze remained coldly impassive, flatly staring Voldermort in the eye. The black, snake-like slits of Voldermort's pupils seemed to be searing through his scull and ripping his brain to shreds in their pitiless search, capable of locating the slightest suspicion of a lie. He considered it fortunate that it was merely the impression they gave and not an actual ability they possessed. Had it been otherwise, he would have died a very long time ago. This process of rationalisation helped him find the strength, from somewhere, to withstand the blood-chilling probing of Voldermort's hideous gaze.

'He's going to do more,' said Voldermort, suddenly, turning away. 'In fact, he has probably done more already. I want you to find out what those things may be by the next time I call you.'

'Yes, Master. I'll do my best.'

'I'm sure you will, Severus. For your own good,' he added casually. 'You know that I don't like being disappointed.'

Snape remained silent. He knew that very well indeed.

'Now, let's see what this crow has to say for himself,' Voldermort purred maliciously, still tickling Hades under the chin and staring intently into his eyes.

Snape stiffened slightly, but quickly forced himself to relax again, as Hades ruffled his feathers and jerked his head away from Voldermort in a brief, but futile attempt to resist.

'Feisty little fellow, isn't he?' Voldermort hissed quietly and then breathed 'Participo', and closed his eyes.

Several moments passed in silence, Snape watching uneasily as Voldermort scoured the mind of his familiar.

'Ah, yes,' he heard Voldermort breathe to himself, apparently having located something of interest in Hades's mind.

More tense minutes passed, and finally Voldermort opened his eyes again. He stared at Hades closely for a few more seconds and Snape held his breath. Then Hades fluttered off Voldermort's arm and onto the window sill, where he perched, ruffled his feathers indignantly and turned his back on them both.

'He is perfectly suited to you, Severus,' Voldermort said evenly as he turned to face Snape again. 'He is proud and he likes to keep secrets; just like you. He quickly learnt, however, that it is futile trying to keep secrets from me.'

Snape said nothing. He was acutely aware that anything he might have said at that point could have been construed to mean whatever Voldermort wanted it to mean.

'Silence is wise, Severus,' Voldermort hissed, wickedly, and turned away from him again. 'There is another, in the crow's mind, besides you. A faint, weak presence, but it's there; are you aware of that?'

'Yes, Master.'

'Good, you don't attempt to deny it. Very wise, again. It is a woman; young, striking, with almost as many secrets as you have, Severus. Who is that woman?'

'She is the new teacher we talked about earlier, Master.'

'Ah, yes. The one you have told me about. What is she doing in your familiar's mind, Severus?'

'She is the one that summoned Hades to Hogwarts in the first place.'

Voldermort turned back to stare, intently at Snape.

'Why?'

Snape allowed himself a sigh.

'Dumbledore and the rest of the staff decided to try and find a familiar for me, as a gift for my birthday.'

The corner of Voldermort's thin lips twitched in cynical amusement.

'How charming!' he sneered coldly, after a moment. 'That is how you came by your new familiar?'

'Yes.'

'I never cease to be amazed by the things Dumbledore comes up with,' Voldermort snarled coldly. 'And what is this woman hiding, Severus? I seem to remember you telling me she has trained at Beauxbattons.'

'Yes, Master.'

'What is she hiding, Severus?'

'I don't know, Master.'

'I want you to find out. Is that clear? I want to know everything about every single member of staff in that school. The time has come when I need to know everything. I need to know what each and every one of them can do. You can start by telling me what this woman teaches, and how good she is.'

'She takes the first three years in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but she mainly teaches Invocation/Evocation.'

Voldermort's eyes narrowed.

'How unusual. Hence the summoning of animals, presumably. Is she any good?'

'Yes, Master. Very good.'

'Is she a pure blood?'

'I believe so, Master,' Snape lied, calmly. The truth of the matter was that he had no idea, but somehow he was certain that Voldermort wouldn't like hearing the words I don't know, again. He made a mental note of yet another lie he had to keep track of.

'Do you think she can be converted to our cause?'

'I very much doubt it.'

'Then she must die with the rest of them.'

Voldermort eyed Snape closely.

'You are attracted to her, aren't you, Severus?'

'Master?' Snape inquired innocently.

Voldermort smirked evilly.

'It's like that, is it?' he sneered with such malevolence it made Snape's skin crawl. 'Well, it doesn't matter, as long as you kill her when the time comes. You can have your fun with her first, of course, but then I am going to watch you kill her, is that clear?'

'Of course, Master,' he said so dispassionately that he surprised even himself.

'Very good, Severus. And this concludes our little interview. Your familiar has passed the test, barely;... but he will be allowed to live.'

'Thank you, Master,' said Snape simply, with genuine relief that he kept to himself. 'Am I allowed to have Hades with me when you summon me, Master?'

'If you wish. Although I cannot guarantee his safety when Nagini is around,' Voldermort said maliciously, shooting a glance in the direction of the enormous snake still curled peacefully around the leg of the armchair, near the fire. 'Sometimes she gets a bit peckish.'

Snape turned and looked at the snake briefly.

'I understand,' he said.

'Now, next time I see you, I want you to know everything Dumbledore will have done to prepare Hogwarts, and I want a full, detailed report on all Hogwarts members of staff. That includes special powers, weaknesses, backgrounds, personal lives, everything. Is that clear, Severus?'

'Perfectly.'

'Good,' said Voldermort, absently and turned and opened the window with a snap of his fingers, letting Hades fly out immediately into the night. With another snap, the window slammed shut again behind him. Voldermort turned away from Snape and glided casually towards the fire. He hissed something quietly to his snake, which opened one yellow eye and stared at him expressionlessly. Then it uncurled itself from around the chair and slithered, slowly, noiselessly away, resettling itself in the far corner of the room. Voldermort waved his hand distractedly and the chair swivelled away from the fire, to face the centre of the room. He sat down and slid his hands into the wide sleeves of his robes, seeming to nestle comfortably into the armchair.

Snape waited, silently.

'I am going to let you go, Severus. But, before you go, I am going to remind you of a couple of things that I believe you need reminding of,' Voldermort said calmly, emotionlessly. 'Firstly, I don't like things being kept from me. You should have told me about your familiar the moment you acquired him. I should not have found out about him from Lucius, two months after the fact. Although, I have the feeling that you planned his introduction to Lucius today, knowing that he would come running straight to me. I think you really were planning to tell me all about it today, and you just used Lucius to do the difficult part of breaking the news first. You are cunning and devious and quite cold, Severus, and I like that. Because of these talents, you are able to use your fellow Death Eaters to your benefit, but I don't want you thinking even for a moment that you can do that with me... Secondly, I think I need to remind you that I don't trust you, Severus. There are few people I trust, and you are not one of them. You are useful to me, for the time being, so I am willing to put up with several of your less desirable character traits, temporarily. You keep far too many things to yourself, Severus, and you lie far too well for your own good. Hence, I don't trust you. You have as yet shown me nothing but loyalty and obedience over the past few months, and that is the reason you are still alive. However, I can't escape the feeling, sometimes, that you may be lying to me. I don't like that. When I get that feeling again, I will use this on you,' he said coldly and pulled a tiny vial of clear liquid from within his robes and held it up for Snape to see.

'I find the fact that you have made this Veritaserum for me, ironically appropriate. And, if it then transpires that you have been lying to me, I will kill you... in the most painful, drawn-out way I can think of. And I can think of many, let me assure you,' he added, setting the vial down on the arm of the chair, and drawing his wand out, casually, from the sleeve of his robes instead, caressing it and toying with it absently.

'Considering the fact that I value your services, however, and I would dislike being deprived of them, I think it only right that I should do what I can to discourage you from ever lying to me. Ever. Threats can seem empty and idle, and can be easily forgotten, so I want to remind you that my threats are made with nothing but absolute earnestness. If I find out that you have lied to me, I will kill you, so slowly, and so painfully that you will be begging me for death well before I am finished with you. You can consider this a demonstration of the sincerity of my intentions. Crucio!' said Voldermort coldly, pointing his wand at Snape.

He crumpled to the floor, immediately, as if felled by the blow of an axe. It felt as if it had just sliced through his scull and was now hacking its way slowly down the rest of his body, ripping muscle, nerves and tendons as it went, splintering bones and sending the shards tearing through his skin. The pain was eviscerating, carving him jaggedly open from the inside out. His body convulsed violently, every particle, every nerve screaming in blinding agony. From very far away, he faintly recognised the sound of his own voice and realised that he was screaming, the sound and the realisation very quickly fading away again into oblivion, as his brain returned to registering nothing but mad anguish. He didn't know how long it went on for, or if it was ever going to stop, and he didn't notice the blood starting to trickle down his upper lip; briefly he wished for death, but then that thought, too, got lost in the mind-numbing, haze of pain.

Just as abruptly as it had started, the agony suddenly began subsiding, leaving him breathless and still shaking, doubled up in now almost bearable pain, on the floor. Sweat was streaming down his face, he realised vaguely, and he tasted his blood for the first time as the slim rivulet seeping from his nostrils dripped onto his lips. He let his head fall back to rest on the bare floorboards and his glazed eyes fell on the window behind him. Only then did he register the wild fluttering outside, and the fierce thumping and knocking on the window pane, the large, black silhouette of a bird trying frantically to force its way into the room.

'He's trying to come to your aid,' he heard Voldermort's icy voice hiss maliciously from somewhere behind him. 'Isn't that simply heart-warming?' he sneered quietly. 'Shall I let him in... Severus?' came the cold hiss again.

'No!' breathed Snape hoarsely, stifling a moan, and not caring to even attempt to conceal the desperation in his tone.

'As you wish. A wise choice, once again, I might add. He wouldn't have bought you much time anyway. Crucio!'

This time, the vain wish for death was the first thought that emerged from the burning, writhing, anguished shreds of lucidity that kept him bound mercilessly to the torturous pain. He screamed in agony and his body convulsed violently once again, while white-hot, burning, iron hooks hewed his flesh open and ripped his insides brutally to shreds. When it finally stopped he was left with nothing than the most tenuous grasp on consciousness, his body still racked by occasional, violent tremors and blood now trickling from the corner of his mouth. With one of his last conscious thoughts, he wished for oblivion, but he got Voldermort's cold voice hissing in his ear instead.

'Oh no, Severus, you're not entitled to the comfort of oblivion. Enervate!' he hissed evilly and consciousness returned with inescapable clarity. Every lingering ache, every agonising memory flooded back, and with them came the torture of complete and utter exhaustion and the knowledge that rest, whether permanent or temporary, was still far out of reach. He was lucid, and perfectly aware, but he was still breathless, still shaking, every particle of his body was still aching dully as he opened his eyes slowly and saw Voldermort's emaciated, snake-like face leaning over him. He could feel the blood trickling slowly from his lips now, and strands of his hair, drenched with sweat, clinging on to his brow.

'Just remember, Severus, that this demonstration was merely due to the suspicion that you might be capable of lying to me. Imagine what it will be like if I ever find out that you really have lied,' Voldermort hissed softly and quietly turned and walked away from Snape's prone figure. A faint slither followed him to the door as Nagini slid slowly from her corner after her master. 'Now you can go Severus,' said Voldermort flatly, opened the door and paused on the threshold, without turning. 'When you feel up to it, of course,' he added and glided away without another look back.

It was half past ten o'clock at night when Snape finally managed to return to Hogwarts. He appeared in front of the school's Main Gates with the help of the tiny portkey he had been carrying in his pocket. He had decided against Apparating anywhere and definitely against flying anywhere. He was simply not up to it.

The portkey almost slipped through his fingers as he appeared with a jolt in front of the gate and immediately sank to his knees. God, how he hated portkeys; the nauseating tug behind your navel as they pulled you away, the equally sickening journey, and the bumpy landings. He doubled over, feeling dizzy, and trying desperately to control the nausea. When he raised his head again, a few moments later, he found himself face to face with two eerily gleaming points of light, hovering steadily about a foot from the ground. Then the lights blinked, slowly, and meowed quietly, and then a grey cat emerged from the shadows. She padded casually over to him, in the way cats always seem to do, looked him straight in the eye and then started rubbing her head up against his knee, purring like a small locomotive all the way.

'Hecate, this is not a good time,' he breathed hoarsely.

She ignored him and continued rubbing, so he decided to ignore her too, and he reached for his wand. What had Dumbledore said about bypassing the dratted wards? Do what comes naturally? Ok..., thought Snape, and slowly, unsteadily pulled himself to his feet with a soft groan.

It took him almost fifteen minutes to make his way up to the school's Main Entrance on foot, Hecate happily trotting after him all the way. She darted around his feet, toyed with the hem of his robes and generally did her best to irritate him, attracting several rather colourful curses aimed in her direction, in the process. What she actually accomplished, however, was to force him to pay close attention to where he was going, and how he was treading which ensured that he arrived at the foot of the large stone steps leading up into the Main Entrance, in one piece, without any added injuries. He allowed himself to relax slightly, for the first time, as he climbed the first couple of steps and congratulated himself on the fact that he was still upright, and more or less conscious.

He was clearing the last step cautiously, when the enormous oak doors in front of him started swinging silently open and a dark silhouette appeared in the light behind the doorway. He noticed, for the first time, that Hecate had stopped pestering him five minutes ago, when he saw her dart silently past the figure and disappear into the school.

'I should have known,' he whispered to himself resignedly and closed his eyes with a sigh, realising too late that he shouldn't have done that. He was feeling light-headed and rather dizzy as it was and, as soon as he exhaled and closed his eyes, he felt himself sway and the world spin around him sickeningly. Instinctively, he reached out to support himself on the neighbouring wall, but he felt a warm hand grasp his own and an arm wrap itself around his waist firmly, the owner of the two offering their body for support instead.

'You shouldn't have done that,' said Iris calmly.

'Thank you, for pointing that out to me,' breathed Snape.

'You're welcome. Now, let's just do this a step at a time, and with no more sighing and closing of eyes, ok?'

'I have made it this far on my own, I think I can manage the last few yards too,' he snarled, softly and without his usual fervour.

'Humour me,' she retorted, curtly.

'I'd rather not,' he insisted and made as if to pull himself away from her, but only swayed again, and she quickly grasped him firmly, steadying him once more.

'I don't think you can,' she said coolly. 'Now, are you going to cooperate, or are you going to force me to use magic on you?'

'I'd rather you didn't,' he whispered quietly. 'I think I've had quite enough of that for one evening.'

'Fine, so stop arguing and start walking,' she instructed forcefully. She could see that he was fading quickly and she really didn't want to have to use magic on him. She would if she had to however, she had to get him inside, somehow.

Somewhere in the very back of her mind she made a mental note to herself to find a way with which she could murder Voldermort with her bare hands.... Magic wouldn't do; it had to be her bare hands.

'We... shouldn't be seen,' Snape pointed out finally, reluctantly giving in to the voice of reason.

'Don't worry, we won't,' said Iris evenly, realising that he did actually have a point. She drew out her wand, taking care not to let go of him in the process, traced a circle in the air, above their heads and breathed, 'Obfuscate!'

'Quick thinking,' said Snape wearily with a wan smile.

'We aim to please. So, now no one is going to see us... unless they're looking for us. Not quite as effective as invisibility, but, under the circumstances, I think adequate. Off we go...' she added, in the same breath.

They walked in through the great double doors which swung silently shut behind them, and made their way slowly down towards the dungeon. She trusted him to lead the way, realising very quickly that she had never before visited his rooms. All she knew was that they were located near his office. When he stopped in front of his office door, she was slightly surprised.

'I've got a ward on the door,' he said quietly, while slowly reaching for his wand.

'Severus, what are we doing here?' she asked dryly.

'Getting into my office,' he replied and whispered something she couldn't hear, touching the door with the tip of his wand. Something shimmered round the doorframe for a moment, and then disappeared, and the door swung open.

His office was dark, with nothing but the merest sliver of moonlight stealing in through a small circular window, high up on the wall behind his desk, near the ceiling.

'Just tell me that your rooms are this way, and you're not actually intending to stay in your office right now!' Iris said threateningly. 'Lumos,' she added firmly, and every candle in the room burst into flame, simultaneously, flooding the room with their warm, flickering light.

'When are you going to start trusting my judgement?' he gibed softly, tiredly and, holding onto the doorframe with one hand, he pulled himself away from her. He took one more step into the room and then faltered, his knees buckling under him. She dove forward swiftly, grabbing hold of him again as he started sinking to the ground, and, with a soft grunt of effort pulled him back up to his feet.

'When you start giving me reason to,' she complained testily and began guiding him firmly into the room and towards the first available armchair. 'Claude!' she added distractedly and the door slammed shut behind them. They never reached the armchair, though.

'Aperi,' she heard Snape whisper beside her, and to her surprise, part of the stone wall beside the bookcase started swinging silently open to reveal a minute corridor, no more than five feet long, leading to what could only have been Snape's quarters.

'Well, look at that...' she said flatly. 'Come on then.'

She almost carried him through the tiny corridor and into the dark room on the other side.

'Lumos,' she repeated and all the candles burst into flame again.

The room was spacious and comfortable, furnished in dark oak and deep burgundy, while the hearth dominating almost the entirety of its one wall looked large enough to accommodate a small South American tribe and their headdresses.

The bed, across the wall from the fireplace was a large, heavy, austere affair made from the same wood the rest of the furniture seemed to be made out of. The other two walls were completely covered, from floor to ceiling, by bookcases laden with an absolutely vast collection of books. In front of one of them stood a writing desk and chair, strewn with parchments, more books and writing quills. A closed door stood on the one side of the smallest bookcase. In the far corner of the room was a tall cabinet with a glass door, through which a rather impressive collection of potions of all conceivable colours and sizes could be seen standing neatly in place on several different layers of shelves. Two large, winged armchairs stood at a safe distance from the hearth, one of them with a matching footstool.

She tried to guide him straight to the bed, but he objected.

'No,' he breathed shortly and indicated the armchairs instead.

'Absolutely not!' she said firmly. 'If you pass out there, I won't be able to lift you again and I thought we agreed no more magic tonight,' she continued as she dragged him to the bed. He was in no position to argue with her, which was the only positive side to this whole situation that she could see. Having said that, she did rather prefer him when he could argue. Arguing tended to be occasionally irritating, but it certainly didn't give her a hollow, slightly sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She lowered him gently onto the edge of the bed, summoned two extra pillows from the other side of the bed, stacking them on top of the ones already there, and immediately let him sink carefully back onto them; her right hand supporting the back of his neck as he sank back, slowly.

She saw him shiver, silently, and she realised how cold the room was. Whipping her wand out from her robes, she pointed it at the fireplace.

'Incinde,' she said quickly. Instantly, enormous roaring flames ignited, more reminiscent of an outdoor bonfire, than the sort of fires household hearths usually sport. She felt a wave of heat hit her and spread out into the room in the most satisfying manner. She turned back to him and felt his hands and his forehead. He was icy cold and his face was pallid and drawn, with dark grey circles round his sunken eyes.

'Shall I call Poppy, Severus?' she asked gently.

'No,' he breathed hastily, without opening his eyes. 'In the cabinet,' he continued with a bit of an effort. 'Second shelf down, third vial from the right... Small, semi-clear, blue liquid.'

She went over, immediately, without any questions and picked the vial easily out from the shelves.

'Do you need me to measure this?' she asked, turning briefly to look at him.

'No,' he said softly.

He opened his eyes slowly and looked at her, as she reappeared beside him, holding the small vial in her hands, the fire blazing fiercely behind her. She handed him the vial of pale blue liquid, which he took in one slightly unsteady hand and downed in one.

A bit gingerly, she sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, consternation, mixed with anger creasing her delicate eyebrows.

'What did he do to you?' she asked soberly.

Snape's black eyes, tired and bloodshot but as mesmerising, as incisive as always travelled to her own and held them for a moment. Then he slowly turned away again.

'He... demonstrated the way with which he would kill me,... if he ever found out that I have lied to him...' he whispered wearily, emotionlessly, closing his eyes again and not seeing Iris's gaze blaze up in cold anger.

'Iris,' Snape whispered suddenly, 'I need you to tell me something... The truth, if at all possible.'

She waited patiently for the question, and when it came, it surprised her.

'Can I trust you?'

'You should know the answer to this question, already, Severus,' she said, her tone carrying the slightest hint of sharpness.

He remained silent, head still turned away from her, eyes closed.

'Severus, look at me,' she said, the sharpness vivid in her voice now. 'Look at me,' she repeated and grasped his hand gently.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to gaze at her.

'You need to hear the words? Is that it? Would it make any difference?'

'I want to hear the words,' he said quietly.

'You can trust me,' said Iris evenly, genuinely. 'I know that there are things you want to know which I cannot tell you, but I swear to you, you can trust me.'

He continued looking at her for a moment, deep inside her and she didn't flinch, or blink, or turn away from his stare. Finally he nodded, imperceptibly, and turned away, closing his eyes again with an almost inaudible sigh. She saw his brow crease, briefly, in what could only have been distress and then he relaxed again.

'I'm going to call Dumbledore,' she announced, concern now evident in her voice.

'No!' Snape said, grasping her wrist as she made to get up. His grip was surprisingly firm, but not in the least painful. 'No,' he said again. 'There's no need... Promise me you won't call anyone... Promise!' he insisted feverishly.

'I promise...,' she began hesitantly, after a moment of staring at him worriedly, '... unless I think it's necessary!' she continued, adding the inevitable caveat.

He held her eyes with his own for a moment, and then, realising that he had no hope of convincing her otherwise, he released her hand and sank back down with a deep, rasping sigh. There wasn't anything he could do to stop her, anyway, if she decided to do so.

The potion was starting to take effect. He could feel himself drifting away, slowly, inevitably, painlessly finally. She watched on quietly as dreamless sleep took him, his head sinking to one side and his hair spilling over the white pillow like black ink, his hand sliding softly from the side of the bed and the potion vial still grasped in it slipping from his fingers and falling silently onto the carpeted floor.

She felt her stomach contract painfully as she leaned forward and gently pulled a stray black strand away from his eyes. Then she rose determinedly from the bed and walked over to the hearth. Looking around her quickly, she located a small jar that looked like it could contain floo powder. Opening it proved her correct. She took a pinch, tossed it into the enormous flames, and watched them turn green.

A few seconds later, a pop and a puff of green smoke in Dumbledore's office announced the presence of someone's head in his fireplace.

'Albus, I'm sorry to bother you,' said Iris evenly, 'but would you please come down to Severus's quarters?'

Dumbledore peered at her concernedly over his half-moon spectacles.

'I'll be right down,' he said, without so much as blinking, and rose from his seat.

The flames in the fireplace returned to their usual colour and Iris stepped away from the hearth. She walked out of the room and into Snape's office where she proceeded to light another fire and pace up and down the room awaiting Dumbledore's arrival. No more than three minutes had gone by when the door opened hurriedly, and Dumbledore walked into the office. Iris turned in mid-step to stare at him in disbelief.

'How did you do that?' she asked in surprise. 'You can't get down here from your office in three minutes!'

'There are ways, if an emergency warrants it,' Dumbledore said mildly. 'What is it, Iris?' he asked immediately, staring at her piercingly, his white eyebrows drawn together in a worried frown.

En lieu of an answer she motioned to him to follow her and showed him through the tiny corridor, moving aside to allow Dumbledore a clear view of the scene in the next room. Dumbledore paused in the doorway for a moment, and then walked swiftly towards the bed, sanguine robes billowing sharply behind him. She watched from the doorway as he leaned over Snape's still figure, laying his hand on his brow for a moment, and seeming to concentrating. As he pulled away slowly, his eyes fell on the small potion vial, still lying on the floor by the bed. He leaned down and picked it up, bringing it up to his nose and having a delicate sniff of its former contents. Then he turned back to look at Snape one last time, as if confirming to himself his previous diagnosis and, motioning to Iris to follow him, walked back out of the room and into Snape's office.

'When did he get back?' Dumbledore asked Iris quietly, as they crossed the threshold into the office.

'Around a quarter to eleven, I would say it was, roughly,' she replied.

Dumbledore turned and peered piercingly at her over the top of his glasses.

'You were waiting for him?' he asked in a quiet tone that somehow managed to seem sharper than a razor-blade at the time.

'Yes.'

'How was he?'

'Barely standing.'

'Any overt injuries?'

'Not that I saw.'

Dumbledore nodded quietly.

'Don't worry, he's going to be fine,' he said gently, although she hadn't asked. 'With a little help, tomorrow he's going to be back to his old amiable self again,' he added with a wry smile, dangling the empty potion vial meaningfully for her to see. 'All the same, I am grateful to you for being there for him.'

She dismissed the idea with an impatient wave of her hand.

'I didn't do anything.'

'I'm sure you have done more than you can possibly imagine,' Dumbledore insisted. 'If nothing else, you were there. It could have been much worse. And you called me; which is something that I'm sure Severus, left to his own devices, wouldn't have done.'

'No. He wouldn't have,' she said flatly. 'He made me promise I wouldn't call you either.'

'Well, Iris, I'm glad you have more sense than he does and you went ahead and called me anyway.'

'I thought you needed to know.'

'You thought well. Did he by any chance tell you any more details about what occurred tonight?'

'Yes,' she said shortly, her eyes growing darker, suddenly, more dangerous. 'He didn't go into much detail, but I think we can fill in the blanks for ourselves. He said that Voldermort demonstrated to him the way with which he would kill him, if he ever found out that Severus had lied to him.'

It was Dumbledore's turn to frown menacingly, his eyes too, suddenly darkening, and sparkling dangerously, for a moment. It was only a moment, and then his countenance cleared again; but for that one moment, Iris caught a glimpse of the true power lying hidden behind his usual kindly gaze. It was awe-inspiring. In that one moment she realised, first hand, why the only wizard Voldermort feared was Dumbledore.

'Oh dear, that is not good,' Dumbledore said in usual mild manner again and made his way over to one of the armchairs that swivelled over entirely of its own accord as he approached, and he sat down. 'That means he is suspecting something, or at least is close to suspecting something.'

'I don't think he's suspecting anything yet,' Iris said, shaking her head. 'If he was I think he wouldn't have hesitated to use Veritaserum. If he had done that, it would have all been over now.'

'That is most probably true, but unfortunately I doubt Voldermort's mind works as straightforwardly as that. No matter what he says, it is important for him to have someone inside Hogwarts, even if there's a chance the information he is getting is incomplete. I am sure he would be confident in his ability to spot an outright lie a mile away. And he probably can. That is the reason I have never asked Severus to lie, outright to him. He has only been relaying partial truths, and incomplete information. However, if Voldermort is getting suspicious, it might be wise to rethink our strategy.'

'How are we going to do that?'

'I don't know yet. I will have to think about it. Let us wait and see what other information Severus might have for us, tomorrow, and we will take it from there. There's not much more we can do tonight,' he concluded and rose from his chair.

He seemed ready to leave, when he stopped and turned to look at Iris again.

'Iris, do you want me to send Poppy round to keep an eye on Severus tonight?'

'No. It's ok,' she said simply. 'I don't think he would ever speak to me again if he woke up and found Poppy in his rooms!' she added with a wry smile. 'He made me promise I wouldn't call her either.'

Dumbledore smiled to himself and shook his head indulgently.

'Do try to get some sleep though, Iris dear,' Dumbledore insisted kindly before he left. 'You need it too.'

'I will,' she said with a faint smile and a nod. 'Don't worry about me. I'm fine!'

'All the same. Get some sleep. It's an order!' he smiled at her one last time and disappeared, the door swinging slowly shut behind him.

*

In the semi-darkness of a secret closet half way across the other side of the castle, Ron and Hermione sat staring at each other in speechless horror.

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(Chapter End)