Heaven and Hell

13th Chapter - The Jinxed Bludger

(October 1995)

As she had promised, Serena saw Jon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione into her office as soon as Madam Pomfrey had mended her wrist. She conjured enough armchairs and tea to accommodate all of them and sat down. A bit reluctant at first, but increasingly more fluent, she told them about Moody's offer, her acceptance, and her actual work as spy. Serena didn't waste time on telling the official version of her story, which stretched the truth tremendously and didn't mention the spying part at all.

When she finished, there was a long moment of silence, while everyone digested what he or she had heard.

"But one thing I don't understand," Harry wondered. "Why do you make such a secret of it? Why do you let people believe you'd been a true Death Eater? I mean, even Voldemort knows that you're not his follower. So why hide it from others?"

"Well, Voldemort doesn't know the entire truth. He knows that I was unfaithful to him, but he doesn't know that I was the one who fed loads of sensitive information to the Ministry. In all likelihood, he doesn't even suspect it because after I left Severus took over, so it seemed to Voldemort as if the leak had never been stopped. And not telling anyone anything different is the only way to ensure that it stays that way."

Harry shook his head, not fully satisfied with the answer. "So he doesn't know you've been working for the Ministry. But what difference would it make if he knew? He hates you anyway, and he's already after our family. What does it matter why he wants to kill us? It couldn't become worse than it already is."

"Wrong, Harry. It could become worse, and it would. Voldemort would be after other people. People he doesn't yet know are still alive."

"These families you saved and gave new identities to?" Hermione guessed.

Serena nodded. "Exactly. And not only because they'd once managed to escape him. You must know when I was in school, there was a girl in Slytherin who was the most talented seer I've ever met. Her predictions were awfully cryptic, but nevertheless correct. Of course Voldemort was very interested in her, and she became a Death Eater right out of Hogwarts."

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry said.

Serena cast him an astounded look. "Yes. I'm surprised that you know her; she was put in Azkaban shortly after Voldemort's downfall. Well, I think, Voldemort made a mistake there, but he gave her the Dark Mark as soon as she had sworn her loyalty to him. From that day on she only made predictions that concerned Voldemort. I suppose the Mark somehow influenced her magic. Although maybe it wasn't a mistake, but intended." She shrugged her shoulders.

"In any case, during one of our Death Eater meetings she suddenly grew rigid and started to speak in this strange voice, at least an octave deeper than her normal voice, and made a prophecy about Voldemort's possible defeat. Her husband, who was used to such occurrences, instantly took out a notebook and wrote down what she said. A few days later I was able to secretly copy that page, and I showed the prophecy to Moody and Dumbledore."

Hermione, who had been restlessly shifting in her chair ever since Harry had mentioned Bellatrix Lestrange, burst out, "You're talking about this prediction about the Darkness, the Sun, and the Flash, aren't you? And our assumption was right, the Darkness is another word for You-Know- erm, Lord Voldemort."

Baffled, Serena stared at the girl in front of her, then looked at the others' faces and said, sounding miffed, but with a blithe sparkle in her eyes, "I wonder why you keep pestering me if you already know everything."

"This was just an accident," Jon said in defence of his friends. "I found a parchment with the prophecy in my cauldron, that day when you slapped Snape. I forgot it, but this afternoon I found it again in my robe and we discussed it, posing some theories about its meaning."

"So you had it. And I was everywhere looking for it, thought that perhaps Snape had taken it." She pulled a wry face. "I was already on the brink of storming into his office and demanding it back. Thanks for saving me from making an utter fool of myself in front of that git... Erm, you didn't hear me call another professor git, all right? - Jon, you don't happen to have it with you and could give it back to me, do you?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Jon answered, startled. "I'd forgotten that again." He rummaged about his pockets and produced a dog-eared, slightly crumpled piece of parchment.

Serena took it back, and magically straightening the document, she said with a mock scowl, "Thank you, especially for keeping it so neat."

"I'm sorry," Jon mumbled, and slightly changing the subject he added, "So what does it mean?"

"What do you think? You said something about posing theories."

Hermione gave a shortened version of their conversation in the Three Broomsticks and Serena nodded appreciatively.

"That's very clever, and about the same lines as we thought," she commented.

Ron, who hadn't said much so far, cut in, "But I don't understand what it has to do with those people you saved."

"Oh, everything. One of them is most likely the Sun," Serena answered. Meeting only uncomprehending gazes, she explained, "Albus came up with this idea, and it's so convincing, we're almost sure that he's right. The prophecy says that the Sun will be killed, but also that it'll help Harry to defeat Voldemort. So he or she can't be dead after the first kill, and this applies to all of my victims - for the rest of the world they have died, not without suffering a considerable amount of torture and pain. But since they are still alive, they could very well help Harry. If Voldemort knew this, he would certainly come to the same conclusion, and he would do everything in his power to kill them - and, according to the prophecy, he would then win."

An alarm clock in the shape of a red parrot suddenly hopped excitedly along the mantelpiece, shrieking 'Kraa! It's dinnertime! Dinnertime, kraa!"

"Shut up, I'm not deaf!" Serena shouted back.

With a huffy glimpse at her, the parrot-clock sat down again and maintained a sullen silence.

When Serena noticed the amused looks with which her visitors regarded the parrot, she said apologetically, "I know, it's ugly and awfully loud, but it's practical, and it's the only thing I still have from Jim. You probably know that most thirteen-year-old boys couldn't select a tasteful present if their life depended on it. It was the same with Jim, and so I got this parrot from him one Christmas." She grinned dreamily at the memory. "But I got my revenge, gave him a flowerpot inhabited by an artificial sunflower a few months later. It took him a whole week to stop it from singing 'Happy Birthday' all the time."

She heaved a nostalgic sigh. "Yeah, this was fun... However, that varmint's right, it's dinnertime and you don't want to miss the Halloween feast, do you? Let's go then."

Before Harry could object, she added, "If you have further questions, you can always come and ask them. Now that I've told you so much, I don't have any reasons to not tell you more."

* * *

When November began, the weather became worse every day. Rain and cold, sometimes frost and hail, made the days meteorological nightmares. The new Quidditch season began in the middle of November, with Slytherin vs. Gryffindor as the first match on the schedule, and, due to the weather, both teams were more often than not forced to cancel their training sessions.

Severus picked at his breakfast, not really hungry after a particularly bad night. Sleep had evaded him because his thoughts had revolved around the upcoming match. The abysmal weather had made it difficult to have proper Quidditch training. Without proper training, it was difficult to prepare suitably for the match. Not only that, but since the Gryffindors couldn't have extensive training sessions either, the Slytherin team didn't have a chance to get reliable information about Weasley's qualities as Keeper. They didn't deem Weasley as good as Wood had been, and Severus sincerely hoped that Slytherin wouldn't experience an unpleasant surprise.

Since he hadn't been able to find sleep, he had done what he always did when this happened: he went prowling the corridors of Hogwarts. Sometimes he caught students who were out of their dormitories after hours. The satisfaction of catching them and significantly reducing the score of their House points usually gave him the inner peace that he needed to finally fall asleep.

But this night he hadn't caught any students. Worse, he was sure that he had heard something, but hadn't been able to track them. On a walk round the grounds he had heard a soft rattling noise, as if someone had bumped into a shelf and had shaken its contents. The sound had come from the broom shed down at the Quidditch pitch. Severus had burst into the shed, hoping that it would be Potter, preferably both of them, and he could get them expelled, but the shed had been dark and empty. He had checked thoroughly, but nothing had seemed amiss. In a worse temper than when he had started prowling, he had returned to his quarters and taken a sleeping draught to get some rest. But frequent use of the draught had accustomed his body to it, to the extent that it could only make him sleep for two or three hours, and he had awoken again long before sunrise.

The weather on the day of the Quidditch match was magnificent in comparison with the past days. As if it wanted to watch the game too, the sun pushed away the dark rain clouds that had dominated the sky for more than a week and had blotted out the sun. It laughed merrily in Severus' face, as if to spite his ill mood. The game went without unpleasant surprises. Weasley was decent, but not outstanding, and Slytherin scored a good number of points, taking over the lead. Severus' hopes for a Slytherin's victory were smashed, though, when Potter caught the snitch, a fraction of a second before Malfoy could close his hand around the tiny, golden ball.

The spectators' stands - except the ranks of Slytherin - exploded in applause and cheering. Everyone pressed down to the pitch to congratulate the Gryffindor team. And no one noticed, at first, what was happening above them.

Not having seen a Quidditch match in years, Serena had taken a seat at the very top of the professors' stands so as not to miss a thing. She had even put up with the fact that the only free seat there was next to Severus; she ignored him, as had become usual since their dispute in her office.

The buoyant spirits among the students didn't fail to communicate itself to several professors, including Serena. It served not only to stir up her good mood but also her mischievousness. More than once she cheered for Gryffindor, casting an impish glance at Severus as if daring him to comment on her behaviour. He pretended to not notice it, keeping his trademark scowl firmly in place.

When Harry caught the snitch, she jumped up like the students, rejoicing. Instead of being scared off by Severus' grouchy expression, Serena flung her arms at his shoulders, shouting cheerfully at him, "We won! Yeah! We won! Did you see that? How Harry snatched the snitch directly from Malfoy's nose? Wasn't that great? - Oh, I'm so sorry for your team." Her giggles told him clearly that she didn't feel sorry at all.

Severus demonstratively pulled at his earlobes, wiggling them, as if trying to get rid of an irksome ringing in his ears, the likes of which could be caused by someone shouting in one's ears. Then he asked sourly, "WE won? If I'm not completely mistaken, you were a Slytherin once. When did you start to fraternise with Gryffindor?"

Arching an eyebrow to express his disapproval, he picked her hands from his shoulders and held her as far away from him as he could. This wasn't easy; he continually lost his grip on her wrists because she jumped up and down like a rubber ball, clapping her hands and laughing joyously as she had done in their Hogwarts days when Slytherin had won a match. For a moment Severus had the eerie impression that time had turned back and they were students, and friends, again. It had been similar then: she had rejoiced in much the same manner as now, and he had graciously teased her about her childish behaviour.

But the flashback lasted only a moment, in the next something black, hard, and heavy hit the side of Serena's face with full force. She was violently hurled against the back of the stand. Stumbling, she tried to get a grip on the banisters, but missed the railing and plunged into the depths. Surprised, she let out a short shriek that was cut short by her impact on the ground about ten yards below. She ended up lying there on her back, motionless.

Severus was instantly hauled back to reality. Without a second thought he jumped after her, casting the strongest Cushioning Charm he could muster below himself. Landing safely beside her, he discerned with relief that she was still alive. A red trickle emerged from an injury at the back of her head, feeding a slowly growing puddle of blood. Her eyes were open, but aimed at no particular spot in the sky and slowly misted over.

"Serena! Can your hear me?"

Severus briefly squeezed her shoulder. The mist in Serena's eyes vanished. "I... can't move," she whispered. Blinking away the returning mist, she stared again into the sky. "The Bludger... comes back."

Severus looked up. The black thing that had hit Serena had indeed been a Bludger, and it was racing at her again. Severus seized Serena's arms and cautiously pulled her away from the spot where the Bludger would hit the ground, but it instantly adjusted its course. It was definitely aiming for Serena's head, and Severus knew it would seriously fracture, if not shatter, her skull if it hit its target.

If he only had a club or something to fend it off, he thought. But it was already too late to fret about it or to think of something else; the Bludger was already dangerously close.

For lack of a bat Severus raised his arm and lashed out at the ball with his fist. And he hit! The Bludger steeply rose into the air again.

The second his arm hit it, Severus heard a cracking sound and felt a jolt of pain shooting through his arm, starting in his fingertips and spreading up to his shoulder, extending even into his chest. He tried to ignore the agony and aimed his wand at the black ball, grateful for his presence of mind not to use his wand arm as club. He cast every spell, curse, and hex at the Bludger that he could think of, but it didn't affect the ball at all. Everything simply bounced off, and the third attack unrelentingly continued.

Severus' mind reeled. This resistance to any magical influence wasn't normal for a Bludger, any more than the fact that it was fixated on Serena's head. What now? He could beat it off with his other arm, but what then? Perhaps it wouldn't end its attacks until Serena was dead. He had to stop it, but how? Catch the ball and hold on to it until help arrived? Severus had never developed a liking for playing Quidditch, let alone being good at it. And he had only one arm that he could fully use. But the quickly approaching Bludger didn't give him time to do more thinking.

Severus stepped in front of Serena; if the ball wanted her, it had to get past Severus first. The Bludger hit him squarely in the chest. Its force made him stumble, almost knocked him over. Severus felt a new wave of pain shooting through his body when one of his ribs yielded to the pressure. But he only paid attention to the Bludger. Gathering his arms around it, he threw himself to the ground and trapped his catch underneath his body. The injured arm throbbed and burned like fire. Severus had to muster all his willpower in order to resist the tempting painlessness of a faint. He had the Bludger! Now, he just needed to hold out until help arrived. The Bludger shook and jerked, pressing painfully against Severus' sore ribcage, but Severus had only one thought: he had to prevent the ball from getting free because he was sure he wouldn't be able to catch it a second time.

Suddenly he heard Serena's voice. It was quiet, only a croaking whisper.

"Sev... Sev, please, you must promise me something... If I die, please..." Severus couldn't understand the rest because Serena's voice had become lower and lower.

"What? I can't hear you; could you speak a bit louder?" The bucking Bludger didn't help his hearing at all.

Serena took a deep breath and repeated her last sentence, still merely whispering. Severus froze. Then, deciding that he must have misunderstood her, he said again, "Serena, I can't hear you. What did you say?"

But she didn't answer any more.

The Bludger still tried to free itself from Severus' clutch. Severus wondered why nobody came to help him. There had been so many people at the Quidditch pitch, someone must have noticed what had happened. He had the impression as if he had been fighting with the Bludger for hours, but it had actually been only a little more than a minute.

And help was already on the way. Members of the Quidditch teams were the first to arrive, jumping off their brooms at the moment when Serena passed out. They helped Severus to keep the Bludger at bay. With their combined efforts, they were finally able to relieve Severus of his burden and securely lock the Bludger up in the ball box.

'I'm so tired of always saving your skin, Serena,' was Severus' last coherent thought before everything went black around him.

* * *

"Ennervate!"

Severus felt like he was waking from a nightmare. He took a deep breath and regretted it immediately. Stinging pain flooded his chest, proving that it hadn't only been a dream. Cautiously, he exhaled again and opened his eyes.

The white ceiling above him belonged to the infirmary, as did the bed with the metal frame and the sterile, white sheets. The curtain around his bed was sterile and white as well. The only things that weren't sterile and white were the concerned looking faces of Madam Pomfrey, Albus Dumbledore, and Minerva McGonagall.

"You should move as little as possible. You've got three broken ribs and a complicated fracture in your right arm. I did what I could to repair the damage, but it'll still take a while before the joints grow hard and stable again. You'll stay overnight in the infirmary, no discussion," the mediwitch rattled off like a machine-gun as soon as he had shown a sign of being awake.

Severus suppressed a groan of pain. He certainly wouldn't try to move, if a single breath had already hurt so much.

Pomfrey held a shot glass containing a murky green potion to his lips, urging him to drink it. "This'll ease your pain," she explained. Turning to the headmaster, she added, "You have ten minutes, he needs rest," before sweeping out of the room.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and Severus shifted the focus of his gaze from the receding matron to the headmaster.

"How are you, Severus?" Dumbledore asked gently. "Do you feel up to giving us a report about what happened?"

Severus inclined his head as sign that he did. The pain-relieving potion began to take its effect and he was able to breathe normally again. Recalling the details of the longest minute of his life, he gave an account of the sudden attack on Serena and his efforts to protect her.

"... and then a few Quidditch players arrived and locked that jinxed Bludger away. It must have been jinxed; it was definitely set to attack only Serena - how is she, by the way?"

Severus tried not to sound too interested, even if this question had occupied his mind since he had been woken up.

Minerva heaved a heavy sigh. "She's gone into a coma. She was hurt badly in the fall - a concussion, internal bleeding, and more broken bones than I can name. Poppy can't give her any healing potions as long as she's unconscious and not able to swallow them. So she's confined to healing spells, which are only half as effective. Serena's backbone also seems cracked; whether this will have dire consequences for her mobility can only be determined when she wakes up. If she wakes up."

Severus didn't comment on this bad news, afraid that this could give away his concern. "I'm almost positive that this attack was done at the Dark Lord's bidding," he snarled. "The hexing was nothing that any of the students here could have accomplished, not even the most talented ones. None of my counter-spells could stop or even deflect the Bludger in the slightest."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "You're right, my examinations of the ball confirmed that it must have been an expert who had tampered with it. A Dark Arts expert, to be precise."

Severus remembered the last night, when he had been sure he heard something coming from the broom shed, but hadn't found anyone. He informed the headmaster of it.

Dumbledore's expression grew even more serious. "Then I should increase our security measures. I will extend the wards so that they don't let anyone into the castle without being invited in to the entire Hogwarts grounds. And I should modify our new Portkey barrier to avert not only unofficial Portkeys, but official ones as well as long as they aren't explicitly marked as valid by a staff member. Just in case the Portkey was stolen."

"A Polyjuice and Glamour detector to prevent people from being fooled into asking someone in who isn't what he or she seems to be would also be advisable," McGonagall suggested.

"This is a good idea," Dumbledore assented.

"Well, time's up," Madam Pomfrey butted in, entering the room exactly ten minutes after she had left it. "Out now."

She resolutely steered Dumbledore and McGonagall out of the infirmary. When she returned, she gave Severus a Sleeping Draught, not tolerating the slightest argument and watching like a hawk to see if he really drank it. As he handed her the empty beaker back, his eyes fell shut and he sank into a deep sleep.

* * *

Jon sat in the waiting room of the infirmary, pondering how he could get past the watchful, seemingly all-seeing Madam Pomfrey. The staunch matron had allowed him one brief glance at his comatose mum and then had sent him away, insisting that Serena needed quiet and peace. But Jon didn't want to leave her alone. The Bludger had attacked her, again and again. Normal Bludgers didn't do that. Someone must have jinxed it, with the full intention to kill her. And since it had failed, the person behind the attack would certainly attempt something else. Jon didn't want to return to Gryffindor Tower while his mum was in grave danger. He wanted to be near her, to be there in case something happened.

"Hey, you're still here," Harry interrupted Jon's thoughts, entering the waiting room. "I thought as much, and I've brought something that could help you." He held a piece of folded, silvery shining fabric out to Jon. When Jon unfolded it, it turned out to be a cloak.

"Oh, an Invisibility Cloak," Jon said, pleased. He smiled; this was exactly what he needed.

Harry cast Jon a surprised glance. "You know what this is? Have you seen one before?"

"No, but Mum's told me about them. She used to have an identical one. This one belonged to your father once, didn't it?"

"Yes, it did. How did you know that? Did Serena tell you?"

Jon nodded in a confirmative manner. "She and James got these cloaks from their parents as a reward for their good OWL results."

"What happened to Serena's cloak?" Harry asked curiously, but Jon only shrugged his shoulders.

"Dunno. But she doesn't have it any more. I could ask her what happened to it, though, once she wakes up."

"Ok. And for now, we can use this cloak to sneak past Madam Pomfrey and into Serena's room. I drew the curtains of our beds in Gryffindor Tower shut, so if anyone asks, Ron and Hermione can say that we've gone to sleep early."

"Thanks, Harry. But you don't have to come with me; I'd wanted to stay all night. "

"That's all right. If someone really attempts to finish what he's begun, it's certainly better if two are there instead of one."

* * *

When Severus awoke, it was pitch black outside the window. His inner clock told him that it was about midnight. The sleeping draught hadn't lasted long, as per usual. But at least he didn't feel pain anymore. In the morning he could leave the infirmary and spend the next night in his own bed again, unlike Serena.

He cursed silently. His thoughts revolved constantly around her. Whatever he tried, his mind always returned to her. There had been a time when they had been friends, and he hadn't minded thinking of her all day long. He had even developed a crush on her. But this was a thing of the past.

She had changed, turned into a monster. Or maybe she hadn't changed, but finally shown her true face. Whatever the reason, she had taken immense pleasure in torturing and murdering people, and she hadn't bothered to hide it. Severus had begun to detest her. And yet he had saved her from the Dark Lord, from certain death, from a fate much like those of her former victims.

Gradually, it had dawned upon him that being a Death Eater wasn't his cup of tea. He wasn't sadistic and unscrupulous enough to enjoy their murdering raids, much unlike Serena.

It hadn't needed much of Dumbledore's powers of persuasion to have him switch sides. Severus had turned spy for the Ministry and saved some people's lives, which saved him from Azkaban and insanity in return. He had participated in the fight against the Dark Lord, the struggle to overthrow him in order to restore quiet and peace in the wizarding world. Unlike Serena - she had worked on overthrowing Voldemort to tread in his footsteps, to replace one terror with another.

When Serena had come to Hogwarts to teach, many a professor had protested because of her past. But Dumbledore had told them that she had never been a true Death Eater, but a spy for the Ministry. This had appeased the others, but not him. Severus had been shocked; he had always believed he knew her and yet her double life had escaped his notice completely. If she had been able to deceive him, the one who was closest to her, she could deceive whomever she pleased. She might have been a spy, but she had always pursued her own objectives. He had heard it with his own ears when she had admitted it under Veritaserum. Ministry spy - this had only been another way out that she had left herself. And somehow it had worked.

But even if she was no longer the Serena who had been his closest friend, even if he was convinced that Dumbledore had made a mistake in hiring her as Defence professor, even if he profoundly distrusted her - there was still a part of him that stubbornly refused to stop loving her. It had been this part that had made him save her life without thinking, now for the second time. And it was this part that seemed to become knotted in his stomach at the thought that she could die at this very moment.

In the past sixteen years he had managed, if not to forget her, then at least to banish her into a far corner of his mind. But as soon as she had returned to Hogwarts, his entire thinking was again filled with Serena, Serena, Serena.

The fact that she had a son didn't help it at all. Even if he didn't like to admit it, he had been jealous as hell of Malfoy. And each time he saw the boy, it reminded him that she had given someone else what she hadn't been willing to give to him.

What Serena had mumbled before she had passed out, however, turned his world upside down, inside out, and back to front, especially if she didn't recover. If he had understood her correctly. If she hadn't only been delirious. If it was indeed true. If, if, if...

He sighed, frustrated. Folding back aside the blanket, he left the bed. Severus knew that he wouldn't be able to find sleep again before he had checked on Serena's state. Since he was alone, he assumed that she was in the other room next to Pomfrey's office, where the matron put the more seriously injured patients that needed special attention.

Opening the door to the corridor, he heard Pomfrey speaking softly. A glimpse through the crack of the door revealed that she was in her office, talking with Dumbledore. The door to her office was wide open, but even had it been closed, a large window ensured that she could always see from her office what was going on outside on the corridor. Hoping that her conversation with the headmaster would distract her enough, Severus attempted to sneak past her office.

His hopes were shattered almost instantly. A firm voice that suffered no contradiction, even if it wasn't loud enough to wake up any sleeping patients, snarled, "Stop! Severus, you'll go back into bed immediately. That's all I need - patients wandering about the infirmary in the middle of the night!" Pomfrey left her office to see him back to his bed.

Severus cast her a venomous glance. He had followed her orders earlier on because he had felt too weak to protest. But he was Severus Snape and no one in Hogwarts save Dumbledore could boss him around and expect him to obey.

"I won't go anywhere just because you tell me so. I'll look after Serena; try and stop me, if you dare."

His murderous expression and the threatening voice did one last thing. Pomfrey was currently in no mood to pick an argument with a particularly ill-tempered looking Potions Master.

"Very well," she grumbled, "go to her, but don't you disturb her! And don't complain about new pain tomorrow."

She tossed her head and stalked back to her office. When Severus continued on his way he heard Dumbledore's say, "Wait, Severus, I'll come with you. I'd like to take a look at Serena too before I leave."

* * *

Jon and Harry sat silently beside Serena's bed, each of them lost in their own thoughts, when they heard voices at the corridor that talked about seeing her.

Jon jumped up, darting glances around for an escape route. Harry unfolded the Invisibility Cloak, gesturing Jon to hide beneath it, when they recognised Dumbledore's voice. "I'm nearly sure that Professor Dumbledore can see through the Invisibility Cloak," Harry whispered nervously.

Jon flitted over to the next bed and drew the white curtain around. They had hardly sat down on the bed and Harry had thrown the cloak over them for good measure when the door opened. The soft clicking of Dumbledore's high-heeled, buckled boots and nearly inaudible steps of feet in slippers approached Serena's bed.

Professor Dumbledore and the second visitor sat down in the chairs that had been occupied by Harry and Jon just a minute ago.

"She looks so pale - as if she were already dead," a deep voice spoke gently, which Jon, after a moment of confusion, identified as Snape's voice, lacking its usual cynical, angry, or sneering undertone.

Jon had thought the same when he had seen his mum. She was lying on her back, her hands clasped above the blanket, her face white as the sheets, her cheeks hollow, her eyes closed. He had suddenly felt a wave of panic surging up. If she died, he would not only lose his beloved mother - this horrible picture would be his last memory of her and probably haunt him forever.

Jon wondered what Snape was doing here. Looking after Jon's mum? Why would he? He had saved her life, but that didn't mean that he would be concerned about her. Snape had once saved Harry's life too, not because he liked Harry, but because he regarded it as his duty. Doubtless it was the same with Serena. But did this sense of duty include visits to her sickbed?

Dumbledore spoke softly, and Jon pricked up his ears, casting aside his current train of thought.

"I've seen her like this before. In St. Mungo's, many years ago. The Cruciatus Curse had taken a lot out of her. She was very lucky that she neither lost her sanity nor her baby."

Jon swallowed. Cruciatus Curse? He remembered her comment about wishing to be able to ward off Cruciatus in the first Defence lesson. What had happened to her? She had told them about her work as spy at Halloween and that she had had to quit because Voldemort had caught her stealing his Pensieve. But she hadn't told about details like a Cruciatus Curse. Was it sheer luck then that he was alive? Had he almost died before he was even born?

"She recovered then, and she'll do so this time, won't she?" Snape asked, as quiet as Dumbledore had spoken. Jon could almost hear concern in Snape's voice, which irritated him to no end.

"She's a fighter. She doesn't give up easily," Dumbledore replied.

"I know." The tone of Snape's answer showed clearly that he was more acquainted with Serena's stubbornness than he considered desirable.

"You know a lot about her. I remember that you were the closest of friends at Hogwarts, but now you ignore each other most of the time, or else jump down each others' throats. May I venture to ask what happened between you two?"

Snape didn't speak at once. Jon thought Snape wouldn't answer such a personal question at all, but he did - in a frosty tone, though. "She's changed," the Potions Master said. "She isn't the sweet and charming little girl that she had once mockingly called herself anymore. After receiving the Dark Mark, she became much darker than was good for her. Besides, she had secrets, and still has. I don't trust her to any great extent."

"Why, Severus, she always had secrets, even from you. It didn't prevent you from being her friend. Surely you understand that she couldn't tell you about her spying, and that it wasn't personal. I'm convinced that Serena is trustworthy."

"With all due respect, headmaster, you trust many people to whom others wouldn't even give their hand. Perhaps you're a bit too trusting. Serena's an excellent actress if she needs to be. But I've seen her true face. Spy or not - I can't believe that she really is what she seems to be."

"What makes you think so?" Dumbledore spoke in a soft, benign tone to Severus, as if he was discussing a somewhat complicated matter with a child, aware that it needed some time to fully understand it.

"When she was a Death Eater - I mean a spy - we were often sent to kill people for the Dark Lord. Serena did more than her duty, more than just fulfilling her share of the task in order to preserve her cover. She enjoyed it - and her pleasure in doing so was genuine, not only acting. I've never seen her as happy as then," Snape said bitterly.

Dumbledore took a deep breath, internally debating about his answer. His beard rustled softly when he thoughtfully stroked it. "Severus, I think it's time to tell you about something that only very few know. You are right: Serena was indeed filled with contentment and happiness, but for a completely different reason. She didn't murder these people. Quite the reverse; she saved their lives."

"What do you mean - she saved their lives? I personally witnessed her killing them!"

"No, you only think you did. You remember seeing her doing those horrid things, but the crux of the matter is that these memories are false. None of it ever happened. Serena altered your memory, and the ones of your partners in crime, Malfoy and Rosier. In truth, she brought your victims away and replaced them with bogus bodies."

Snape seemed at a loss for words. "Really? ... But it can't be... seems so real..." was all that he muttered for a while, checking his mind for any signs of being manipulated.

When Severus grew silent, Dumbledore added, "I wouldn't put it past her to having deliberately made your memories especially revolting. She never abandoned her hope in you finding your way back to the straight and narrow, something that Moody - and I must admit I sometimes too - doubted. Perhaps she tried to appeal to your conscience, tried to make you see how wrong it was what you did, or rather you thought you did."

"Was that the reason for you being so eager to give me a second chance - feeling guilt for having ever doubted me?"

Even if Jon couldn't see it through the curtain, he was sure that Dumbledore smiled. He could almost feel it, and he could hear it in the tone of the headmaster's answer.

"This may have played a part in making my decision, but be assured that other, more logical reasons carried a greater weight."

"I still don't trust her," Snape stated as a matter of fact after a while. "She's always pursued her own objectives, and didn't care for rules, loyalties, or even law. Should her plans ever happen to disagree with your cause - I'm sure she wouldn't hesitate to turn against you. She'd nearly done so already."

"When was this?" Dumbledore asked with mild curiosity.

"Before I tell you - she can't have manipulated my memories of the night when the Dark Lord caught her stealing his Pensieve, am I right? She doesn't even know I was there."

"So it is," Dumbledore assented.

"Then this really happened. Well, he asked her why she had dared to burgle him. She answered that she wanted to find a way to topple him and take his place - no word about fighting for the good side, freeing the wizarding world of a Dark oppressor or something like that. No, plain thirst for power and improvement of her own position were her reasons."

"You know, if she'd told him the truth, told him about her being the mole, Lord Voldemort would have changed all of his plans instantly, without any way for us to get to know about it. And think of all these people she saved. He mustn't know that they are still alive, or he would go after them again."

"She was under Veritaserum, she couldn't lie."

Veritaserum didn't seem to be a valid reason for Dumbledore to believe what Severus had heard her saying. "Maybe she wasn't completely under it's effect. Maybe she managed to spit it out, or it didn't work correctly."

Snape snorted. "As if I wouldn't have pondered all these possibilities countless times. The answer is No. She didn't spit it out, I saw her swallow it. The serum wasn't flawed either. I brewed it and I wouldn't have sent out anything of less than best quality. And Serena didn't spoil my potions before she delivered them. I'm certain, the Dark Lord would have punished me if any potion wouldn't have showed the effect that was expected of it. Not to mention Serena's potion skills, which wouldn't have allowed her to do more advanced manipulations than pouring them away. Oh, and Malfoy didn't clandestinely hand the Dark Lord another potion either."

"I see you have thoroughly deliberated it indeed. But simply because you don't see a possible explanation, it doesn't mean that there isn't one. If she actually had wanted to lead the Death Eaters, why didn't she take Lord Voldemort's place when it became vacant? No, this isn't enough to undermine my trust in her."

Severus didn't give up. "So what about her brother?"

"What about him?"

"Serena visited him, two days before you cast the Fidelius Charm on him and his family. She certainly knew that there was a traitor who gave sensitive information to the Dark Lord. I wouldn't be surprised if she also knew his identity. What if she talked Black out of being Secret Keeper for the sole reason that James Potter would chose Pettigrew instead?"

"This would imply that she wanted or approved of her brother's death. I cannot see any reason for this."

"I can. Perhaps she tried to gain the Dark Lord's forgiveness - or to take revenge on her brother. Before her visit, he hadn't spoken or written a single word to her for three years. And it was him who told her parents about her joining the Dark forces in the first place, which resulted in her being cast out of her family."

"Serena loved her brother. She visited him because she missed him and had decided that it was time to become reconciled with him. She wouldn't have wished him any harm, I'm certain."

"But I'm not. If you think you can trust her then I must accept it. But I won't change my own opinion. There's more to her than meets the eye, and I'm convinced that this isn't necessarily a good thing."

Dumbledore sighed. "All right, if you think so. I cannot coerce you into changing your beliefs. But it certainly would do you no harm to rethink your opinions in light of the fact that she didn't do everything that you think she did."

Snape didn't answer and there was silence for a couple of minutes. Jon worried that Dumbledore and Snape would sit through the whole night at Serena's bed. His muscles became already sore and he couldn't move to ease them as long as the professors didn't leave. Harry thought along the same lines, as the worried look that he cast to Jon told clearly.

Suddenly, Snape spoke again, hesitantly and so quietly that it was scarcely understandable.

"Before she passed out, she... she asked me for... a favour."

Dumbledore silently waited for Snape to continue. A minute or so passed until he finally did. "In case she should die... well, she wanted me to... to take care of... her son."

Jon and Harry stared in horror at each other. Serena couldn't stand Snape, and the feeling was mutual. Why on earth would she want Snape of all people to take care of Jon? There wasn't anything that held Snape and Jon together in any way. And Snape certainly wasn't keen on adopting a boy just because his mum used to be a friend of his long ago.

"Did she tell you why?" the headmaster inquired.

Jon also ached to hear the answer to this question. A slightly comforting thought was that she had asked Snape only because he was the only one to be there, and perhaps she hadn't even recognised it was him. But this still didn't change the fact that she had asked Snape.

"Yes, she did. But I'm afraid I misunderstood her. She was only whispering, and not speaking very clearly."

"What do you think she said?"

Snape shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "She said, I was his... Jon's... father."

Suddenly Jon didn't care anymore if their presence stayed concealed or not. He wanted to get up and shout to Snape that this wasn't true, that he couldn't be Jon's father because, well, because he didn't want Snape to be his father.

Harry could barely keep Jon quiet, clamping his hand over Jon's mouth and holding him in a firm grip as if Jon was a snitch that he couldn't let go. That they weren't discovered, they only owed to the fact that Snape had got up in the same moment and was now pacing up and down. The scraping noise of the chair being pushed across the floor and the creaking floorboards hid the soft rustling of their robes.

Dumbledore sounded genuinely amused when he said, "And why do you think this can't be true? Have you ever looked at Jon? His dark eyes, his pale complexion, his tall slender stature? Or his expression when he's furious, and his talent in potions. Admittedly, his similarity to his mother is much more striking, but the similarity to you is nothing that keen eyes wouldn't notice. I would have thought you'd seen it the first time your eyes fell on him. I was wrong, apparently."

"Then it is true? And you knew it? Why haven't you ever said anything to me?"

"I promised Serena to keep it a secret, especially from you. You were still a Death Eater when she was pregnant, and Serena was concerned about her child's safety. Well, I was confident that she'd tell you someday - and she did."

The pacing became faster, more agitated, as did Snape's voice. "But not when she returned to Hogwarts, no, she waited until the moment she'd nearly died to tell me. If it hadn't been for this attack, she'd probably never have told me. I can't believe it!"

"Well, you said you don't trust her. Perhaps that feeling is mutual?" Dumbledore rose also from his chair. "Well, it's late. I'll go to bed now. Good night, Severus, and pleasant dreams." With these words Dumbledore left the room.

Snape stopped pacing and muttered under his breath something about not being able to sleep with something like this on his mind and the old wizard knowing it and maliciously delighting in Snape's disquiet.

"You'd better not die, Serena," he finally growled, "I have to have a serious word with you." Then he, too, left. Jon could hear him having a heated discussion with Madam Pomfrey about staying in the infirmary or returning to his own quarters, but he didn't listen long enough to hear the outcome.

Harry peeked through the crack in the curtain, then removed the Invisibility Cloak and muttered, "The coast's clear. Oh boy, I thought they'd never go. My muscles are sore and my leg's gone to sleep." He shook and massaged his left calf to get the blood circulation going again. When Jon didn't say anything and didn't move either, Harry asked concerned, "You ok?"

"No," Jon said, more to himself than to Harry. "This can't be true. It's difficult enough to accept that they used to be friends. And that she lived in his house. But that they were a couple?" He violently shook his head. "I don't want to be Snape's son. I'd rather have no father than Snape." He heaved a sigh of despair and hid his face in his hands, mumbling, "What have I done to deserve this?"

Harry laid his hand comfortingly on Jon's shoulder. "I know, it's a nasty shock. Perhaps it would be easier to take if you looked at the positive aspects of it."

"Which would be?" Jon doubtfully asked.

"Your father is not Lucius Malfoy."

Jon glared at Harry, sourly replying, "If this was supposed to cheer me up, I'll give you another try."

"C'mon, I mean, your father isn't a Death Eater. Isn't that something?" Harry insisted.

Jon rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, you're right. My father's only an ex-Death Eater. This changes everything, of course. How could I be so ignorant! And I've found just another good thing in Snape being my father instead of Malfoy. He does only hate me, he didn't try to kill or kidnap me. I'm such a lucky boy."

Harry removed his hand from Jon's shoulder and returned to his seat beside Serena's bed. "Stop being so sarcastic," he muttered, "right now, you bear a fairly unhealthy resemblance to Snape."

The initial shock about the identity of his father had gradually changed into anger. And needing to let it off, Jon took his anger out on whoever was available - which meant Harry. "I'm so sorry, but that's my genes, I'm afraid. I can't do anything about it." He scrutinised Serena's white face, finally groaning, "Oh Mum, really, how could you? Why him? What was wrong with... Sirius Black for example? I wouldn't have minded being his son." Jon sat down in his chair again, sighing.

After repeatedly being snapped at in return for his attempts to cheer Jon up, Harry apparently had decided to stay silent.

Jon didn't notice it, though, and continued his monologue. "Oh, now I know why I didn't ask her. I didn't want to hear something like this."

He tore his hair in a fit of fury and finally hid his face in his hands, mumbling, "Could you please Obliviate me, Harry?"

"Better not, I've never tried Memory Spells and I'd probably botch that small bit of brain that's yours. Hey, as long as she gets better again, nothing will change for you. Snape certainly won't suddenly start being a good daddy and try to spend time with you. So if Serena doesn't die, and I'm convinced that she won't, there's nothing to be worried about." Harry suddenly grinned. "Hey, you really shouldn't complain, it actually could be worse, much worse."

"I can't see how," Jon grumbled.

"Serena's taste in men is questionable, no doubt, but at least she has some taste. Imagine if she'd have dated Lockhart. Or even Voldemort - just for the sake of getting valuable information at first hand."

"Oh thank you for that picture. Really, you should practise very hard before you attempt to cheer someone up again."

But even if Jon didn't admit it, Harry's joke seemed to have worked. While they carried on sitting with Serena, Jon couldn't help but grin from time to time. Once he even softly chuckled, imagining his mum slapping an advancing Lockhart with one of his own books until he whimpered, promising to stay out of her sight forever.

The night was quiet, there was no second attack. Harry and Jon took turns at watching and sleeping. Shortly after sunrise, they heard Madam Pomfrey starting her morning round through the infirmary. Both of them waited beside the door, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. When the matron entered the room to look after Serena, they stealthily slipped out and returned to Gryffindor Tower to get a refreshing shower and clean clothes before breakfast.

During the day there was usually a continual coming and going in the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey was always around, so Serena wasn't unobserved. During the nights, Jon and Harry kept their watch, and Hermione and Ron offered to help them with their night-duties, which the boys gratefully accepted.

* * *

"I'm so fed up with hearing about failures!"

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I promise, it won't happen again."

Lucius Malfoy kneeled in front of the glowering Lord Voldemort, expecting to be hit by a Cruciatus or some other nasty curse at every moment. The gloating gaze from another pair of eyes lay on him and Lucius could almost feel them burning holes in his back. He hated Wormtail, the Dark Lord's new favourite, almost as much as he hated the name Potter.

Once Lucius had been unable to find and kill James Potter and his family, and finally the Dark Lord had lost his patience and gone after them himself. The snivelling worm had known where to find them, but of course he hadn't told Lucius so. Pettigrew had wallowed in delight over Lucius being punished and then given his piece of information to the Dark Lord, getting a nice big reward for it.

And now Lucius was after Potter's sister and her son, and she, too, managed to frustrate his work. She had saved her son from being kidnapped and made sure he wouldn't leave Hogwarts soon. Then Lucius found out that she had registered her Animagus skills, which scotched his new plan of causing her trouble with the Ministry and getting her out of the way to get to the boy. Voldemort had given him one last chance, and he himself had Portkeyed to Hogwarts and jinxed one of the Bludgers to hurt her seriously enough to send her to St. Mungo's. As skilled as the Hogwarts matron was, a skull fracture or a broken backbone was something she couldn't heal alone. Lucius would only have had to wait until her son left the safety of Hogwarts to visit his mother in the hospital. If it hadn't been for Snape, the plan would have worked.

Lucius sighed, frustrated. Who would know that Snape would put himself in danger to save her, when their friendship had broken years before.

But the Dark Lord wouldn't listen to any excuses. He was only interested in the successful execution of his orders.

"You're sorry? Not sorry enough, as it appears to me. I'll make you sorry, though. And you're right, you won't fail me again. I won't rely on your incompetence in this case any longer. I've decided to leave this task to someone who's more suited to fulfil it." Voldemort cast a glance aside where Wormtail stood, vainly trying to hide his malicious pleasure about Malfoy's bad luck. "Wormtail, you will bring me Jonathan Potter, and you won't disappoint me, will you?"

"Of course not, my Lord. The boy will soon be yours."

"May I ask how he'll do it? Maybe I can help him," Lucius tried to prevent having his task taken from him completely and left to the worm once again.

"No, Wormtail will do it alone. As long as no one hinders him with their inabilities, he will succeed," Voldemort said, declaring this matter closed.

Lucius didn't get a chance to object, even if he had wanted to, because punishment in the form of unbearable pain flooded his body, ousting every coherent thought.