A Second Chance

~

A single week had never felt so long. Snape worried all the time about who he was going to kill, and why, and how. Hippolyte had refused to tell him any more details, leaving him to stew. Fortunately, something happened to distract him on Thursday afternoon.

After the NEWTs were over, the seventh years did not take classes seriously. In some cases, they did not turn up to the lessons at all. Nobody really complained, most of the teachers allowed them to relax and wind down to the end of term. Not even Professor McGonagall made too much fuss when two Gryffindor boys, experimenting with Muggle artefacts, dyed their hair purple in one of her lessons.

Nor did she fuss when the students talked amongst themselves. Snape was sitting at the back, bored, not really paying attention to what Avery was trying to say. He overheard a voice he recognised from one side, speaking loudly and angrily.

‘They didn’t!’

Wondering what had made James Potter angry, Snape half-turned his head to look. Potter and three of his friends were sitting together, and Potter, Black and Pettigrew were staring at Lupin. The werewolf looked decidedly unhappy.

‘I don’t believe it. I'm going to withdraw my application. I'm not going there, not if they’ve got scum like that in charge,’ Black was saying fiercely. ‘We’ll find some other place to learn to be Aurors.’

‘No,’ the werewolf protested. ‘Don’t ruin your future for this. I - I never really thought they’d accept me anyway.’

Snape frowned, not at all sure what they were talking about. Someone had upset the werewolf, that was for sure. He smiled. No harm in that.

‘If they’re like that,’ said Potter in his arrogant way, ‘I don’t think I want to be there. I'd rather not be an Auror if they’re all so prejudiced.’

Remembering their earlier conversation he had overheard, Snape realised that the College for training Aurors must have refused to admit a werewolf. Perhaps there was some sanity left in the world, after all. Some people were evidently much more sensible than Dumbledore.

‘Well, I'm going to go see Dumbledore,’ announced Black. ‘I’ll get him to explain why you haven’t been let in. He’ll have some suggestions. You come with me, Remus, and we’ll sort this out.’ He grinned. ‘And if Dumbledore doesn’t know what to do, we’ll go down to the College and see if those Aurors are as good at getting out of hexes as they ought to be.’

There was laughter from the group of Gryffindors sitting around Black. Snape scowled. He was pleased to see that the werewolf wore an equally unhappy expression. For the hundredth time, Snape wondered what anyone could see in a werewolf. He wished that Voldemort wanted that monster dead.

Snape stared out the window and daydreamed about killing all four of them, of Voldemort rewarding him richly, of being the most important out of all the Death Eaters, of making Lucius Malfoy eat his words-he would kill those four slowly, one at a time, or he would make them kill each other-that would be interesting. Bitterly, he thought that even if he did, they would be honoured as heroes and martyrs forever. They’d win whatever he did. Another burst of laughter interrupted his thoughts.

As the bell rang for the end of the lesson, the seventh years left in a clamour of chattering and scuffling feet. Snape walked away briskly so that he wouldn’t hear any more of the Gryffindors’ conversation and went straight down to the Slytherin common room.

~

‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ said Remus, following hopelessly behind Sirius. ‘Dumbledore doesn’t really have anything to do with it. He can’t make them accept me.’

‘Yeah, maybe, but he can put a complaint in, and he might have some suggestions for somewhere we could study together. Besides, we have to tell him if we withdraw our application.’

‘Yes, and it’s better than letting Sirius go down to the College and try out his hexes,’ added James. Remus smiled at that.

‘Really, guys, it’s not your problem. You shouldn’t withdraw because of this. It’s nothing I didn’t expect.’ Remus knew as he spoke that his words were falling on deaf ears.

‘Well, you shouldn’t have expected it! I'm not going to put up with you wandering around the place expecting people to treat you badly just because of what you are,’ said Sirius hotly. He stopped and turned to face Remus, blocking his path. ‘Don’t you ever, ever think that, you hear me? You know you’re the best of all of us.’

‘It’s all right, Sirius, don’t worry,’ Remus said feebly, a little overwhelmed.

‘Of course I'm going to worry if you act like that! There is no reason for anyone to treat you any differently from anyone else.’

‘Except that once a month I turn into a bloodthirsty monster,’ muttered Remus. Sirius opened his mouth to speak, changed his mind, and clapped Remus on the shoulder instead.

‘Yeah, and twenty-nine days out of twenty-nine you’re a raving nutcase,’ said James to Sirius. ‘At least Remus is sane for twenty-eight days.’ He began to walk along the corridor again, and the other two followed him in silence. Remus looked at the ground as he walked and did not meet Sirius’ eye.

They came to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore’s office. James knocked and they waited for a while. Then a magically magnified voice said, ‘Come in,’ and the gargoyle sprang aside. They climbed the spiral staircase to the office door and found it open.

Professor Dumbledore was smiling at them. ‘What brings you here?’ he asked. ‘Do come in and take a seat. It was just starting to get dull here; I'm glad to have something to occupy myself.’

‘Sir, the College won’t admit Remus,’ said Sirius bluntly, his tone accusing. ‘They won’t admit him because he’s a werewolf, so James and I are withdrawing our applications, unless you can get them to change their minds.’

The smile fades a little from Dumbledore’s face, and he looked at Remus, who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I'm sorry to say that I cannot interfere with the College’s selection procedure. I recommended all three of you as strongly as I could, but I can do nothing more. So, you’re going to withdraw?’

‘Yeah,’ said James, and Sirius nodded, his face still angry.

Dumbledore’s smile began to return. ‘What do you have to say about this, Remus?’

‘I don’t think they should,’ he said, looking sideways at Sirius. ‘I mean, the College is the best place for learning to be an Auror, and I never really expected to get in.’

‘Well,’ said Dumbledore thoughtfully, ‘the College is certainly an excellent place for training to be an Auror. Wizards go there from all over the world. And it’s in the Black Forest in Germany, in the heartland of the Dark Arts. But it’s not the only way to become an Auror.’

‘And they don’t admit werewolves,’ said Sirius. ‘Bloody idiots if you ask me.’

‘I shall pretend I didn’t hear a certain word,’ said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes. ‘As I was saying,’ he continued, ‘there are other ways. One is to study as an apprentice to someone who’s already an Auror.’

Remus looked up hopefully. ‘You mean - you know someone - ‘

‘I think it would be best to wait until the meeting of the League on the Thursday night before the end of term,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Many of the League members are Aurors, and you may well find that someone will want to take on three noisy nuisances.’ He looked at James. ‘Or is Lily in this as well?’

‘No, Lily wants to work for the Ministry,’ said James promptly, then flushed. Sirius grinned.

‘I told you Dumbledore knows everything,’ he hissed, quite loudly enough for the headmaster to hear.

‘You both dance very well,’ said Dumbledore with a bland smile. ‘As I recall, you had the floor to yourselves at the last Halloween Ball.’ James flushed still further. ‘As I say, I’ll have a few words with the Aurors amongst us - see if any of them are interested in three apprentices.’ He turned back to look at Remus. ‘Don’t be too downhearted about this. You will - all of you will - encounter people who don’t agree with you, or who won’t treat you with as much consideration as you would expect. The best thing you can do is to hold firm to what you know to be right, and not -‘ he looked piercingly at Sirius ‘-and not go straight for revenge.’

James and Remus both smiled, and Sirius almost flushed.

‘Now go and enjoy the last few days of your time here.’ He stood up, and they did likewise. ‘And - lovely hairstyle, boys.’

James and Sirius almost unconsciously reached up to touch their purple hair. Remus muttered something under his breath. Thanking the headmaster, they left the office.

‘That’s so cool,’ said Sirius. ‘It’ll be brilliant being apprenticed to a real Auror. Who d’you think it’ll be?’

‘It depends if Dumbledore can convince any of them to take us on,’ said Remus gloomily. ‘Can you imagine an Auror who’ll let a werewolf near him?’

‘Dumbledore’s going to find someone,’ said James. ‘I bet one of his friends will have some sense, you’ll see.’ He ran his hand through his hair again, trying in vain to make it lie flat.

‘I can’t believe he didn’t tell you off for that,’ said Remus, eying their purple hair. ‘I told you it wouldn’t wash out again, and did you listen to me?’

‘How on earth did he find out about me and Lily?’ James wondered aloud. ‘We didn’t want the teachers to know; we were keeping it a secret.’

‘Look,’ said Sirius, ‘I'm sure Dumbledore knows about everything. He probably even knows about the time I kissed Emma Fotheringay behind the broom shed when we were in the third year.’

‘You did what?’ demanded James and Remus in chorus. ‘How come you never told us about that?’ continued James.

‘She slapped me right after,’ said Sirius, grinning. All three laughed. ‘Reckon we’ve got time for a game of three-way chess before supper?’

‘I’ll beat you this time,’ said James. ‘Even if you both gang up on me.’ They hurried through the corridors to the Gryffindor common room.

‘Where did you go?’ asked Peter as soon as they clambered through the portrait hole. ‘I looked everywhere for you. Why didn’t you wait for me after Transfiguration?’

‘We had to see Dumbledore,’ said James absently, looking around for the chessboard.

‘Come play chess,’ said Remus to Peter. ‘I’ll need some help if I'm going to beat this pair.’

~

‘Got a date, have you?’ Avery asked, watching with undisguised amusement as Snape combed back his black hair and put on his nicest dress robes. Time had moved strangely over the past few days, slowing down so that he thought he would have to wait forever before his chance would come, then accelerating as he began to worry about what the task would entail. But finally it was Saturday evening.

‘Yeah,’ said Snape absently.

‘What’s she like?’

Snape only scowled and said nothing. He finished straightening the dress robes and stood looking at himself in front of the mirror for a moment. He had had little experience with this sort of thing; few of the girls in Slytherin had wanted to talk to him after a few minutes of his sarcastic, biting comments, and he wasn’t sure what he would say to Hippolyte when he met her in the Red Dragon.

‘Well, have a good time,’ said Avery half-heartedly.

‘I’ll be back late,’ said Snape, ‘so don’t worry if I'm not here before you lot go to bed.’ Not that anyone would be likely to worry in any event, but he didn’t think he’d want to talk to anyone when he got back - if he got back. He did not entertain that possibility for long. If something went wrong on this little adventure, it would be all up.

‘Right,’ said Avery. ‘Bye.’

Snape went out. It was an evening when the sixth and seventh years were allowed to go out to Hogsmeade, so there was no need for him to sneak away through the Whomping Willow. This, he thought, was just as well, because he didn’t imagine that his dress robes would look particularly impressive after wandering through the mud.

As he walked down the road out of the grounds, Snape tried not to think about what would be happening later. But his mind rushed on despite all his efforts. He felt a mixture of excitement and nerves, neither of which showed upon his face. Now he would really be a Death Eater, once he had killed someone for Voldemort.

He had learned the killing curse, Avada Kedavra, although it was not taught at Hogwarts. It required a certain type of focus, a certainty about what the outcome would be, like so many types of magic. Snape had practiced it on insects, mice and small birds, and he thought he would be able to work it for real.

The road brought him straight into Hogsmeade. Snape looked at his watch. Perfectly on time. The Red Dragon was at the other end of the town, and Snape hurried down the road, not wanting to meet any of his friends, or worse still, a professor.

As he reached the Red Dragon, he slowed his steps, knowing better than to charge straight into the elegant restaurant and bar. He peered in the windows as he walked towards the door. Luckily, there were no Hogwarts staff or students inside. Snape went in and looked around, an arrogant sneer on his face to hide his feeling of being out of place. He half expected to be challenged and sent packing at any moment.

He scanned the bar and the tables for Hippolyte. After a second he spotted her and felt foolish. Somehow, he had expected her to be wearing the black robes that all the Death Eaters wore at their meetings. Instead she was leaning against the bar, looking bored, and wearing what looked like red silk dress robes. She looked stunning, and Snape was hard put to keep his face empty as he approached, much less look like he knew what he was doing. He tried to catch her eye, but she was staring into space.

‘Good evening,’ he said.

She looked up, recognised him, and said blandly, ‘Hi.’

As Snape got her a drink and went across to a table in the corner, he could scarcely take his eyes off her. Once they were both sitting down, she nodded in a businesslike way.

‘Right. We’re going to stay here for a little while, and then we’ll set off. The place isn’t actually in Hogsmeade, and we have to fly there because it’s got Apparation Detector Spells all around it.’

‘Who - who is it? The person we’re going to ... kill, I mean,’ Snape asked.

‘Seeing as you’re a novice, it’s best you don’t know until the last minute,’ Hippolyte answered. ‘It’s not a person you know, in any event. He works for the Ministry of Magic.’

‘Oh, right, good.’ That made Snape feel considerably better. Killing a worker for the Ministry was definitely something worth doing. It occurred to him that this was probably the only good thing about the League Against Voldemort: it had nothing to do with the Ministry at all.

He sipped his drink, and looked at Hippolyte. She really was very pretty, with her long blonde hair and her red gown. She smiled over her glass at him. Snape felt his mouth try to smile back inadvertently.

‘So,’ she said, ‘you don’t like the Ministry?’

Snape shook his head vehemently. ‘They bungle things and they’re far too lenient about so many important matters,’ he said with some violence. ‘They get softer every year about the things that matter.’ He scowled as he spoke.

‘Like what?’ asked Hippolyte curiously.

‘Those new laws on monsters, for example. Giving them ‘rights’ of trial and that rubbish about not being allowed to kill them unless they present an immediate danger. As if any monster could ever be safe.’ Snape cut off what he had been about to say next, realising that he’d been speaking passionately and loudly. What business of hers was it what he thought, anyway?

He sat scowling out the window and thinking about what he had just said. If it hadn’t been for that new law, his father would still be alive.

They both finished their drinks in silence. Then Hippolyte stood up. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Let’s get going.’ Snape walked with her from the restaurant. ‘We’ll be flying over.’ Snape frowned, realising that he did not have a broomstick. He said as much to Hippolyte.

‘Didn’t you bring one?’ asked Hippolyte. ‘Honestly, didn’t you think before you came down? Well, I suppose it’s a bit too far to summon it from Hogwarts.’ She smiled. ‘You’ll just have to ride behind me.’

She picked up her broomstick from the rack outside the Red Dragon, cancelling the Securitas Spell that held it there with a tap of her wand, and swung astride it as it levitated in front of her. Snape recognised it as a Silver Arrow with some envy. Awkwardly, he got on behind Hippolyte, sliding on the red silk and trying to push it out of the way. Without waiting to see if he was secure, Hippolyte pushed off into the sky, and Snape had to clutch her around the waist.

‘Mind what you’re doing,’ said Hippolyte loudly over the rush of air. ‘I'd like to be able to breathe.’ Snape flushed bright red and loosened his grip so he was scarcely touching her. He was glad she was in front of him and couldn’t see his face.

The flight seemed to last about a thousand years, while he sat behind Hippolyte and wondered whether the rumours Lucius Malfoy had hinted at about her and Voldemort were true. The sky darkened. Snape could tell they were flying south, but could not recognise any landmarks on the dusky ground.

Finally, after several hours of chilly flying, Hippolyte pointed the broomstick downwards. Snape saw lights from the houses below, and wondered whether it was a wizard or Muggle neighbourhood. They swooped over one dark house, and Hippolyte brought the broom down neatly in a field behind the houses. It was now fully dark.

‘That’s the one,’ murmured Hippolyte in Snape’s ear, her voice low. ‘Now, the first thing you have to know is this. If either of us gets caught, we’ll be sent to Azkaban. If you squeal, the Dark Lord will catch up with you in the end, and what he does to you will be worse than anything that could possibly happen in Azkaban.’ She smiled, her teeth showing in the darkness. ‘So you keep your mouth shut. Also, if you get caught while we’re in there and I don’t, there’s a possibility that I might be able to get us both out of it before things go too badly wrong.’

‘All right,’ said Snape quietly, angry at the idea that he might turn traitor to avoid punishment. He had sworn an oath of loyalty to Voldemort. And to Dumbledore, he thought suddenly and unwillingly. But Voldemort had asked him to do that, so it was all right. He turned his mind away from that before he could feel any more uncomfortable. ‘Let’s go.’

They walked across the field, Snape carrying the Silver Arrow, until they came to the hedge that divided the back garden from the farmland behind.

‘Leave the broom here,’ said Hippolyte. ‘We’ll probably Apparate back; it won’t matter about setting the alarms off once he’s dead.’

The words seemed to echo around in Snape’s head. Once he’s dead. It sounded very easy. Snape hoped it would be as straightforward as it sounded. Avada Kedavra. That was straightforward enough, a quick, allegedly painless death. And he would really be a Death Eater once it was done.

Hippolyte was poking around in the hedge, her red silk looking very out of place as she knelt in the grass and rummaged around with her wand. Snape held his own wand in his hand and was looking around as if expecting Hit Wizards to come swooping down at any moment.

There was a sudden purple flash, and Hippolyte straightened up. ‘There. The protective charms around the edge are switched off.’

‘How on earth did you know they were there?’ Snape asked.

‘Ah,’ said Hippolyte with a smirk. ‘There are many things about the Death Eaters which you do not know, young Severus.’ She pushed through the hedge, and her robes snagged on a branch. Hastily, Snape untangled her and made his way through in her wake. In silence they crossed the lawn to the house. Hippolyte pulled out her wand as they came to the door.

‘Alohomora,’ she said, and the lock gave a click. Snape pushed the door open and they went in. The house was silent and dark, and very tidy. Snape looked around nervously. ‘Okay, you go upstairs; I’ll go through the downstairs rooms,’ muttered Hippolyte, her voice scarcely audible. ‘The one we want is a man, about thirty.’ Snape nodded and walked on silent feet up the stairs. He had a strange feeling like a hundred snakes were wriggling inside his chest. If they were caught ... if he met the person he was supposed to kill ... if he killed the wrong person ... he straightened his back. He had no intention of letting Hippolyte see that he was hesitating.

Upstairs it was very quiet. Snape only realised after a moment that the rasping sound he heard was his own breathing. He walked through a corridor to the first door. For a second he paused, then he turned the handle and opened it, wondering what he would find on the other side.

It was a bathroom. Snape felt faintly ridiculous. There was clearly no point in worrying about what he would find. Probably the next place he was scared to enter would be the broom closet. He glanced around the bathroom in the faint light, and then went down the corridor again. The next door was ajar.

Snape pushed it open, not hesitating this time. He was in a small bedroom, and looking at the bed, he saw a shape lying there, asleep. Soft snores echoed loudly in his ears. There’s a person there, was Snape’s sudden thought, and he wondered at its foolishness. Of course there was a person asleep there; he was here to kill him.

Raising his wand, Snape approached the bed. He moved towards it on silent feet. Suddenly he realised that there were two people asleep there. He halted. One person he had expected, but Hippolyte had not warned him that their victim was married.

Perhaps he should call Hippolyte up here, he thought. With his wand pointed at the bed, he began to edge backwards again. Then he changed his mind. He should at least secure them so they couldn’t get away. Malfoy had taught him some useful Binding Spells.

He went back to the bed, walking with less caution than before. He stepped on a creaky board on the floor, and the sound seemed to echo around the room. One of the shapes in the bed gave a sigh and turned over. Snape froze for a moment, then raised his wand.

‘Retineo!’ he said curtly. His voice echoed around the dark, silent room. Then ropes shot out of his wand and wrapped themselves around the two forms, binding them tightly. They both woke up abruptly and struggled in vain against their bonds. Snape went closer to inspect his work, and a pair of grey eyes looked at him. It was the woman. She screamed in terror as she saw him.

‘Ah,’ said a voice from behind him. ‘You’ve caught him, have you? Excellent.’ Snape spun around, not having heard Hippolyte’s arrival.

‘Who are you and what do you want?’ asked a voice from behind him again. Alarmed, he turned, and realised one of the prisoners had spoken.

‘Shut up,’ he said harshly, waving his wand at the man. They were all right so long as they were huddled shapes on a bed. Speaking turned them into frighteningly real people. Hippolyte raised her wand and a beam of light fell on the man and the woman. She walked very close, peering at them.

‘I wasn’t sure whether we’d find anyone else here or not,’ she said. ‘Well, it doesn’t matter, really. The Dark Lord will be pleased.’

‘You’re Death Eaters,’ the man said hoarsely. ‘Well, I'm not going to join you.’

‘Nor I,’ added the woman, her voice high with fear.

‘You don’t have that choice,’ said Hippolyte lightly. ‘You’re going to die even if you swear to Voldemort now.’ She raised her wand and pointed it at the man, smiling down at him. ‘Avada Kedavra!’

Green fire shot out from her wand, blinding Snape so that he was forced to look away, though he wanted to see what was going to happen. When his vision cleared, he saw that the man was lying back on the bed, motionless, looking almost as he had done while he had slept. The woman was gasping, her breath echoing around the room. Snape gazed at the body. He worked for the Ministry, Snape told himself, the man was his enemy.

Hippolyte was raising her wand again, and she paused. ‘Do you have any children here?’ she asked the woman.

‘No!’ she answered, her voice a squeal.

‘You’re lying,’ said Hippolyte coldly. ‘Severus, instead of standing there like you’ve never seen this sort of thing before, go and find the children. I expect they’ll be somewhere nearby. Then kill them.’

Snape took a deep breath and went out of the room. In the corridor, he stood motionless, wondering what he ought to do. Find the children, and kill them; that was what Hippolyte had told him to do and he was supposed to obey her in everything. He was going to be a Death Eater, and this was what Death Eaters did.

He went to the next room and pushed the door open, half-hoping that the woman had been telling the truth and that there would be no children. The room was empty. Snape conjured a faint light and looked around. It was a guestroom by the unlived-in feel and the neat furniture. No children there.

His hopes rose as he went out again. There were three more doors remaining. The next was stiff. He tugged it open, and found that it was a linen closet. Certainly that was not the place he was looking for.

The second room was a study. Snape went over to the desk and inspected it, his wand held ready. There was a large file of papers labelled ‘Ministry of Magic - Private and Confidential.’ Snape picked it up. He would have something to show for this, even if he didn’t find any children.

Snape went to the door of the third room and opened it quietly. As he entered, he nearly struck his head on something dangling from the ceiling, a foolish mobile of fantastic beasts. He was in the nursery now. Snape looked around. Now he had to kill the children. Don’t think about it, he advised himself.

He crossed the room. There was a young girl, about three years old, asleep in a small bed, and in a cradle nearby was a baby. They were both soundly sleeping, unaware that their father was dead, and that a death sentence hung over both them and their mother.

He raised his hand to feel the place where his arm was marked. He was a Death Eater, he could not disobey Voldemort’s orders. But what good would it do Voldemort to kill these two? Killing people who worked for the Ministry, who were fighting against him, that was fine. Killing children was different.

Snape stood looking at them for a long time. They lay completely helpless before him. All he had to do was raise his wand and work the spell; they wouldn’t know anything or suffer. He held his wand over the bed, staring down. Avada Kedavra, he thought, that’s all, and then it’ll be over. The girl rolled over, curling up in the blankets.

After a long time, Snape lowered his wand slowly. He had scarcely made a conscious decision, but he knew that he wasn’t going to kill them. But he couldn’t just walk away, either. If Hippolyte looked, she would be sure to find that they were alive. He raised his wand again, making a dim light. There was a large closet along one wall of the room. Struck by an idea, Snape bent over the bed. First he put a blanketing spell over the girl to stop any noise she made being heard. Then he reached in and picked her up awkwardly in his arms. She woke up and began to wriggle, turning her face to see what was happening. She stared at him in terror. Snape held her tight, glaring at her angrily all the while for causing him so many problems, and wrapped her in blankets. Still with the spell to prevent her from making noise on her, he opened the closet door and deposited her on the floor.

‘If you move,’ he said, ‘someone will kill you.’ The girl watched him with enormous eyes. Snape went to the cradle and put a spell over the baby as well. More gently, he lifted him. The baby slept on, undisturbed, as Snape went to the closet and deposited him in his sister’s lap. Then he shut the closet door and sealed it with a spell to prevent them from coming out for a few hours.

Taking a deep breath, he went from the room. He had disobeyed Voldemort, he had not killed anyone. Feeling oddly calm, he returned to the bedroom.

‘Did you kill them?’ asked Hippolyte, turning her blue eyes on Snape.

‘I couldn’t find any,’ said Snape, making his voice sound as disappointed as possible. The woman looked at him with eyes as large as the child’s had been, and took breath to speak. Snape glared at her.

‘I told you they weren’t here,’ she gasped, still looking at Snape in amazement and unvoiced gratitude. He raised his wand and pointed it at her threateningly, unable to bear the idea of any connection with this woman he had captured. She fell silent at once.

Hippolyte scowled. She, too raised her wand. Lazily, she pointed it at the woman. ‘Avada Kedavra!’ she said. The woman did not even have a chance to scream before she fell back, dead. Hippolyte smiled, and Snape shivered suddenly. He wanted to be a long way away from here, far from this dead woman and her husband, and from Hippolyte with her eerie smile.

‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘We’ve finished here.’ He passed Hippolyte the confidential Ministry file. ‘I found this,’ he continued. ‘Perhaps it’ll be useful to someone. Do you want to take it?’

‘I suppose I may as well.’ Hippolyte took the file, glanced at it and nodded. ‘Yes, that could be useful.’ She went over to the corpses and surveyed them for a moment, then followed Snape from the room. When they reached the door, she turned back and raised her wand.

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Snape quickly.

‘Burn the place down.’

Snape had a sudden vivid image of the two children he had trapped in the cupboard.

‘Don’t do that,’ he said harshly. ‘Nobody will see the bodies then. We’ll have no proof that they’re dead.’

‘True.’ Hippolyte lowered the wand, and Snape felt his heart begin beating again. But then she lifted it.

‘What -?’ he began again.

‘Actually,’ said Hippolyte, ‘you can do this. Cast our Mark above the house.’ Malfoy had taught Snape the spell for this, but Snape had never tried it before. But it was something he had always wanted to do. Now he really knew what it meant.

‘Morsmordre!’ he shouted, raising his wand high. An enormous black skull erupted from it, identical to the one he had marked upon his arm, but gigantic. It drifted into the air and floated above the house, the snake coiling above it.

‘Good,’ said Hippolyte. ‘Now we leave.’ She crossed the garden to the bushes where her Silver Arrow was concealed. ‘Disapparate. Go back to Hogwarts,’ she said. ‘I will report to Voldemort. Expect to be summoned at any time.’

‘All right,’ said Snape. He did not linger, but Disapparated instantly. His last sight was of the Dark Mark he had cast hanging in the air over the house.

He reappeared in the Shrieking Shack. As he climbed down into the tunnel, he wondered why he had done that. Now that he was far away from the situation, he thought how foolish it had been. They were bound to find out that he had not killed the children, it would be in the papers. A house attacked by the Death Eaters with survivors was unheard of. If he had jeopardised his future with Voldemort....

Snape’s second realisation was that he had failed. He had gone on this intending to kill someone in Voldemort’s service, and Hippolyte had killed both the Ministry worker and his wife. And it was two in the morning, and he was exhausted. What a waste of time, he thought.

But, though he tried, he couldn’t quite rid himself of the nagging feeling that there was something wrong about killing small children to frighten people.

Snape made his way up towards the castle, and more immediate problems drowned out these thoughts. If Voldemort ever found out what he had done, he would certainly suffer for it. If Dumbledore found out where he had gone, he would go to Azkaban. He realised that soon he would have to meet the League. The idea chilled him. He did not want to face anything or anybody.

Returning to the castle, he composed his face and put on his customary sneer, though there was nobody awake to see. He moved silently through the dorm and into bed. Sleep did not come, though he was exhausted. He kept running over the scene in the house again and again, seeing Hippolyte kill the man and the woman, thinking of what Voldemort would do, seeing the girl’s eyes ... the woman’s eyes ... he drifted into a haunted sleep.

Blaise.
28th July 2000
Revised 29th July 2004