I'll Stand Alone

Part 6: Beauty is Truth

-But never met this fellow,
Attended or alone,
Without a tighter breathing,
And zero at the bone.-
Emily Dickinson

Dumbledore had made her walk in front of him as they went to his office, Snape bringing up the rear. She couldn't tell whether he was trying to protect her from Snape or he was suspicious of her, but her ears burned all the way there.

A storm of furious whispers hit them as soon as they entered the Headmaster's office. The pictures were buzzing back and forth, visiting their neighborhoods and almost leaning out of their frames so they could get a better look at what was going on. Dumbledore motioned them to the two chairs sitting in front of his desk, then took his own seat, face solemn. Snape chose the seat on the right and slumped down into it, bony fingers plucking at his robes in what she would have called a nervous gesture in anyone else.

She waited patiently for Snape to settle in and then she pounced on him.

"HOW DARE YOU CONSIDER ME SO STUPID AS TO USE MY OWN CREATION TO ATTACK PEOPLE?!" she howled, slamming both hands down on the sides of his chair and leaning right into his face. "DO YOU THINK I'M A MORON?"

Snape's face may have paled slightly, but he raised his chin defiantly, his eyes narrow and glittering with fury-and disappointment.

"Liliana, please," Dumbledore said, in a very quiet sort of way that told her it would be best to do exactly as he said. "Sit down."

She dropped into the left chair, trying to scorch Snape with the anger of her glare. He glared back. They held a silent battle with their eyes for a few moments, until Dumbledore's even voice broke the silence.

"Severus, you haven't brought the Ministry into this yet, have you?"

Snape broke eye contact and straightened. "No, Headmaster."

Lilika tried to ignore the feeling of her stomach diving south in relief. He is such a liar.

Dumbledore made an almost imperceptible sound of relief, his fingers stroking his long beard. His voice, when he finally spoke again was still low. "Most fortunate. Now, Liliana. Please tell me what happened."

"Why bother?" Snape interjected, his lean face contorting with anger. "What does it matter what she thinks? The fact remains that she is the one who created that creature in the first place and the one responsible for keeping it under control-a duty she has failed at. Even if she did not set it off as she claims,"-here he threw her a look that could have scorched brick-"she still created a situation that endangered Hogwarts and its students. Actions like that demand punishment."

"You seem to have an obsession with punishment, especially where I am concerned," Lilika said bitterly, looking Snape right in the eye. "Why is that?"

He snorted softly, but his eyes shifted and did not meet hers. "You are a troublemaker, that's why."

"Stop it, both of you," Dumbledore almost snapped, clearly becoming impatient. She and Snape both jumped, hands falling obediently into their laps. "We are here to determine matters, not engage in childish arguments. Liliana will tell her side of the story without further interruptions."

"Well, I taught my first class-that would be the Slytherin fifth years, who are just a little too enthusiastic," she began, smirking at Snape.

Snape's eyes flashed. "Get to the point. We're not interested in your digressions," he said in his most snide tone of voice. She rolled her eyes, but continued.

"I have a free period afterwards. I went back to my room to take a nap because my head was bothering me. I woke up when the screaming started and ran downstairs to see what was going on. I saw the golem rampaging about and a girl had been trapped in its path. I grabbed her and ran, Snape grabbed me, long story short I destroyed it, it nearly crushed me in the process and then Snape decided to drag me away and quietly get rid of me without a trial."

"A very inventive story," Snape muttered, again slouched in his chair.

Dumbledore's gaze became piercing. "What did you intend to do with her, Severus?"

She watched Snape's sallow face turn white with something akin to glee.

"As I said-merely to take her someplace quiet to await the Ministry-to keep from alarming the students. That's all."

"And the Ministry would have most likely brought Dementors, because they are a paranoid bunch of barbarians," Lilika said, watching Snape's skin leech colour with every word. "And you would have stood by and let me be Kissed, I'm sure-never giving a damn whether or not I deserved it..."

She wouldn't have thought it possible, but Snape actually flushed, a pale salmon colour dotting the top of his bony cheeks. "I would have let them do no such thing."

"Sure."

"I don't lie!"

She folded her arms across her breasts. "And that business about the Ministry wasn't a lie?"

His eyes struck sparks. "I had said we would await the Ministry, not that they had already been called. Don't fault me for your assumptions."

"Don't think I'm a liar then."

"You haven't proved yourself true yet."

"Severus," Dumbledore said. Just that one word, but it cut through their argument like a knife, stopping their voices.

"I realize you are under a great deal of stress at this time due to circumstances. I sympathize, as I share an equal role in that situation, and I commend you for your devotion to Hogwarts. However, in situations such as this, you are not to take matters into your own hands. I am Headmaster here." Dumbledore's words were soft, but steel underlined every word he spoke. The Headmaster rose stiffly to his feet and paced around the office, staring at them each in turn.

Lilika tried to subtly edge back into her chair, not wanting that gimlet stare to rest on her. Dumbledore's burning eyes passed over her and she shuddered, feeling very small and petty at that moment. Guilt washed over Snape's face as he was hit by that look in turn, though his mouth stayed hard.

"I will not sit by and let two of my staff members tear each other to pieces over petty differences. Hatred had no place at Hogwarts, especially now, and especially not between two people who must work together and show the students by their example. You must both," and the Headmaster's voice rung with absolute finality "cease this ridiculous behavior, or if not, at the very least confine it to where it will not be seen by others." Dumbledore came to a halt right in front of Snape, his light blue eyes locked onto Snape's coal black ones. "I will not have this turn into another Sirius Black, Severus."

Snape flinched at the name, his shoulders jerking as if lashed by an invisible whip.

A flame burned in the depths of Dumbledore's eyes and it was a terrible thing to watch. "Do you understand me?"

"What does Sirius Black have to do with all this?" Lilika asked, not really wanting to break in, but completely confused by the reference. She knew all about the famous murderer Sirius Black-his escape, and how the Ministry was still searching for him, their search given new urgency by Voldemort's rebirth. She'd never really paid much attention to Black, as she'd been busy with far bigger matters at the time, but the mention of Black was still puzzling. Why would Dumbledore mention Black?

The Headmaster looked at her, the ferocity of his gaze dimming a bit.

A pause.

"Sirius and Severus have a legendary hatred running between them," Dumbledore said, his voice now distinctly weary. "They have hatred since childhood-will not reconcile themselves even now, when the need is greatest. I must tell you that Sirius is innocent of the crimes he was supposed to have committed, so if you should see him around Hogwarts, do not be alarmed. He is on our side."

So that was how it was. Black was innocent, good for him. As for seeing him, she had no real idea of what he looked like. Black could probably sneak up and bite her on the leg before she realised who it was. Lilika made a mental note about Black for future reference and turned her thoughts back to Dumbledore's office.

Snape gave a soft snort, his eyes fixed not on the Headmaster but on his folded hands. Dumbledore sighed.

"The best I've managed so far is having them in the same room without trying to kill each other. I believe you can see why I want this anger between you and Severus to die down now, before it can twist itself into that kind of poisonous enmity. Is that clear?"

She nodded. "Yes, Headmaster."

"This is all very well and good," Snape finally muttered, "but it does not solve the question of how much guilt Miss Jardin bears in this matter. And what should be done with her."

"That does it," Lilika snapped, the embers of anger she had been carrying around ever since this ridiculous situation started fanning into full flame. She jumped to her feet once more, leaning over his chair, trying to look as large and threatening as possible. "You can't ever let things go, can you? You want the truth Snape? I'll give you the damned truth." She turned to Dumbledore, feeling her eyes blaze with hot anger, but her voice came out so evenly it surprised her. "Do you have any Veritaserum?"

Snape's head snapped up and he stared at her, the first bits of shock she had ever seen in him showing in his eyes. "You can't be serious."

"Are you sure you want this?" Dumbledore asked, his light blue eyes locked on her own. His face had resettled into its tired folds and the image of power was gone, though his eyes still sparked. "You aren't just giving us access to the facts of this matter-you are letting us into your most private thoughts. Be very certain this is what you wish to do."

She jerked her head in Snape's direction. "I don't think anything less is going to satisfy him," she said grimly.

Snape's mouth thinned and he looked away, folding his narrow hands once more in his lap as Dumbledore went to a cabinet at the far end of the room and rummaged around inside it for a few minutes. When he emerged, his beard slightly dusty, he held a tiny bottle of perfectly clear liquid. Dumbledore offered it to her with a small nod of his head, and she took it from him, clearing her throat until Snape looked her way again.

"Say the word Snape, and I'll do it," she said, dangling the bottle in front of him, her eyes locked on his. "I'll give you my everything, if that's what you want, if that is what it will take to make you believe-I will do it. I am so tired of this." She sat the bottle down on Dumbledore's desk and pushed it forward until it was within his reach. "Your call."

He stood up and glared at her, his mouth curving into a sneer. "Don't be so melodramatic."

"I'm the one who's going to be spewing nothing but plain truth for the next hour, so I reserve the right to indulge in a little hyperbole before I'm restricted. Though, to be perfectly fair," she said in a musing tone, feeling a thoughtful fit coming on, "You should take some too-I would very much like to know exactly why you hate me so much..."

Snape's eyes glittered.

"This was your idea, not mine. I refuse to do anything to satisfy your curiosity," he said, and wrapped a hand around the bottle, lifting it into the air.

"Too many secrets, Snape?" she said softly. "Or maybe-what you're really afraid of-is that once all your secrets are revealed there won't be anything left underneath..."

His lips thinned until his mouth looked like a slash made in old parchment.

"Do as you will," he hissed through clenched teeth.

He slapped the bottle into her outstretched palm. She sat back down; cradled the bottle in both hands, turned the stopper and lifted it out.

A small smile played over Snape's lips as he slid back into his own chair.

"I sincerely hope you won't regret this," he murmured.

She ignored the barb and lifted the bottle to her lips. The bittersweet licorice smell made her recoil automatically, a few of her worst memories slipping up as she inhaled the odor. Her mother, standing over her, making sure she drank it all...

"Well, here goes," she said, trying to sound cheerful and drank.

Two seconds later, her blood turned to fire and ate through her bones. The air she breathed had turned painful, like hot needles filling her lungs, and the world dissolved before her eyes. Snape's bony fingers were suddenly at her temples, feeling, probing, and turning her head so he could look into her eyes. "Headmaster," she heard him say faintly, as if from a long distance, "her pulse is racing..."

"I've forgotten how it burns..." she croaked and pitched forward.

He'd never seen a reaction to Veritaserum as violent as hers. She was dripping with sweat mere seconds after taking it, her skin burning as if she were in the throes of a fever. The girl let out a strangled cry, hands gripping her skirts, her eyes darting back and forth under the lids. He pushed her back into the chair, taking her pulse, lifting one eyelid to check the pupil.

"Should we let this continue?" he quietly asked. It would serve her right if something happened due to her flair for the dramatic but it would not be good if she up and died on him. He'd never intended that.

The Headmaster's face was in shadow once more and Snape could not read his expression. "There isn't anything to counter Veritaserum once it has been taken," Dumbledore finally said, his tone grave. "If I had known this would happen..."

"Stop talking and ask your damn questions!" the girl snarled suddenly through clenched teeth. Brat. She'd brought this on herself, after all. "I can deal with this-I've done this before but I forgot how much it hurts..."

"Just one moment Liliana," Dumbledore said. He murmured a word and the air around the girl became several degrees cooler. "Does that help?"

She sighed, her body relaxing under his hands. "Yes, thank you."

She was lucky he didn't mind being cold. "What do you mean, you've done this before? Were you interrogated often?"

"No, you greasy git, because my mother used to make me take it on a regular basis when I was younger," she said, starting to quiet down. The thrashing had stopped and her voice settled into a more modulated tone. "Every time she thought I was lying, I was sneaky or I was hiding something-out it came. I think I'm allergic to something in it, but don't get too happy, as it hasn't killed me yet."

She panted a little, chest heaving-you're noticing the wrong things-then swallowed. "I want you to ask the questions Snape-this way you can't claim something was done wrong," she said, her voice unsteady and changing in pitch every other word.

"Fine," he snapped, thoroughly sick of her smarmy, know-it-all attitude and her insinuations that he was some bloodthirsty fool who didn't know what he was doing. His fingers clenched on her forehead, feeling the rapid beat of her blood in her temples. Her pulse was still much too quick, but it had slowed a little, giving him an absurd feeling of gratitude. He shook himself mentally.

His hand still cupped her face, her damp skin warm against the tips of his fingers. "We'll start with simple questions, and if you can handle that we'll go on. Tell me your full name and how old you are."

"Liliana Isobel Eleanore Woodville," she murmured automatically. "I'll be twenty-eight next May. Do you want my birth date too?"

He shrugged. "Yes."

"May 25th, 1968."

He nodded. This was consistent with what the newspaper articles had said and what he remembered of that very brief glimpse of her he had gotten sixteen years ago. Andrew had called her both Lily and Liliana.

"Why are you calling yourself Lilika Jardin? Trying to hide?"

Her voice was laced with scorn. "Come, Snape. Isn't that a stupid question? You're the one who kept threatening to expose my real name. I know what people think of the Woodville family. We're all evil, vicious bastards, right? I've got five hundred years of Dark Wizards behind me and each member's main goal is to either become a powerful Dark Wizard or help someone else to rise to that position. People hate and fear my family...but you know that already, don't you?"

"You're not answering the question."

She gave a put-upon sigh.

"Lilika is my name-my nickname-my nurse gave it to me, means "little lily". My aunt's married name is Jardin-the only way she could escape our family was by running off with a French Auror. I love my aunt. That's why I took the name. I am hiding, but that should have been damned obvious."

"From what?" Angry Death Eaters, he supposed, just like him and half the wizarding world. Did she think that made her special?

"Not what, who-the rest of my family." Yes, just as he'd thought. He shook his head, smirking a little. She was so overly...dramatic, emotions and hyperbole flying everywhere. Well, as a noblewoman, as someone special, she would have been feted and encouraged from a very early age. Small wonder she had an ego. Just like Potter. Just like Black.

Why did the Headmaster have to bring that up in front of her?

"As you say my family is well-known for their dark tendencies, let's just say I'm known in my family for hating Death Eaters, hating Voldemort and generally despising all things and deeds evil."

Her voice had gotten stronger and clearer as she continued to talk and she started to sit upright again, hands clutching the arm rails for balance. He let his hands slid off her face. They were slick with her sweat.

"My father was the oldest son. On his death, and with both my siblings dead and my mother put away, I became the head of the Woodville family. You can just guess how my Death Eater relatives loved that-the Woodville name, title and fortune in the hands of a girl who went publicly and often against everything they stand for. I'm a disgrace to the family and should be eliminated-so says my cousin Anthony. Now that Voldemort's back in power, they've gotten bolder. I've already been attacked twice this year-this after a break of eleven years. That's why I came to Hogwarts. One Death Eater I can handle, two of them I've beaten, a bunch is a little too much for even me to deal with."

"One would think from your bragging that you could take on a small army of Dark wizards," he said dryly. "If you are so against the Dark Lord and his ilk, then why are you so immersed in the Dark Arts?"

She laughed, she actually laughed, a pure note of joy and once again, the hot sick rush of anger that he'd felt upon seeing her creature ruining everything came back to him.

"It's what I'm good at, Snape. Just because I know two hundred different ways to curse someone doesn't mean I would. I love the Dark Arts, love knowing how to defend myself and how to attack my enemies. It gives me an edge, something my opponents don't have. I was the baby. My brother hated me, my mother hated me, they both tormented me and I don't think either of them would have cared greatly if I'd died. I needed something against them."

Unnatural child. He could hear Iolanthe hissing that down the years, her blue eyes blank and pitiless as she watched her youngest daughter drip mud on the paved courtyard. Her leg's half torn open and her face is like ice. Completely unnatural. She must be a changeling; she's no child of mine.

Andrew had told her to shut up, a sentiment he completely agreed with.

He leaned forward. "Do you still have that scar on your leg?"

Her face went utterly blank. After a small silence, she said in a flat, accusing voice, "You were there that day."

"Yes."

She hissed quietly through her teeth. "I should have known. My father used to have his little Death Eater support groups over for tea and cakes every now and then, everyone in long cloaks. You saw me, but I didn't see you."

"Show me the scar. Please," he added, after catching the warning in the Headmaster's eye. Dumbledore was being as quiet and motionless as one of his potted plants and he was even forgetting the Headmaster was present at times. Snape gritted his teeth, the familiar pain bringing him back to himself. He must not get too involved in this. He had enough on his mind already without a snip of a girl clouding his thoughts.

Concentrate on the show, he told himself sternly.

Woodville bent and unbuckled her right shoe, laying it aside. Tugging at the toe of her black stocking, she got it off without having to raise her skirt and dropped it atop the shoe. She swung her leg out slowly and he moved back to make room for her, his eyes focused on the pale skin showing at the bottom of her black skirts.

The girl grasped the hem of her skirt and raised it to her knee, showing a bit of the white underskirt as she did. "There," she muttered.

A jagged line of rose ran up from her ankle, wide and crooked against her white skin. The line disappeared into the shadows above her knee, but he knew it continued up her thigh, almost to the top.

"Put down your skirts," he said calmly. "I've seen enough." Her face flushed an angry looking pink and he smiled.

"Now, Lady Woodville, here come the important questions," he said, putting emphasis on her title and a sneer in his voice, watching her eye twitch with something like pleasure. "Did you unleash your golem on the students and Hogwarts?"

"No," she said immediately, sounding angry once more. "I told you, I was asleep. I didn't touch it at all. Not even when my first period students were using it."

"You weren't using this to control it from a distance, then?" He held up the ruby seal, which he'd secreted in a pocket after taking it from her.

As her blank blue eyes slowly narrowed in on his hand, she gave a great snort of laughter, doubling over once more, but with mirth instead of pain. "Of course not. The only thing the ruby's good for is a doorstop. It's completely magically inert, which would have been screamingly obvious if you'd bothered to check."

The edges of the gem cut into his palm. Laughing at him again. All she had done since coming here was laugh at him. And humiliate him. And kiss him.

He would not forgive her for that last one.

"Isn't this the famous Seal of the Woodville family?" he said carefully, trying to keep his voice free of the anger that was raging through his every cell. "I saw your father using it to open the castle gates once."

She nodded. "You saw my father hold up the ruby, but you never noticed the setting. That was the point."

A pale hand went to her collar and pulled apart the circle of golden wire pinned there. He bent closer. The circle had a hidden catch which allowed her to slip off the miniscule golden crescent ornament that dangled off the wire. The crescent now lay in her palm, held out for his inspection.

"This is the seal. It takes what form it pleases."

He reached out to take it from her hand. "We'll see what kind of magic is in this."

"No, don't!" she cried out, snatching it back with a rapid twist of her fingers just as his fingers were to touch it. "If you're not a Woodville, touching the seal will burn you like acid. I don't need you blaming me for the loss of your fingers on top of everything else." The Woodville girl tucked the seal between her clasped hands, shaking her black-haired head as she did. "For God's sake, put on a pair of dragon-hide gloves or something if you want to examine it. The only magic you'll find are the spells that allows Woodvilles to unlock any door in the family houses and the one that summons the Guardians."

"The famous Guardians," he repeated, fragments of a rumour swirling to the forefront of his mind. "The beasts of stone that will rise to defend any Woodville from their enemy."

She nodded. "Exactly. But they are confined to Castle Rising and I can't summon them from this distance anyway." A grim smile floated over her lips. "Otherwise I would have had them eat you long ago."

"Liliana. Restrain yourself from making threats, please."

She blushed. "I'm sorry Headmaster. I forgot myself."

Since she was under the Veritaserum, he would assume that to be true, for now.

"Look at me once more, Miss Woodville. I'm not quite through with you yet."

"What more is there? I didn't tell the golem to do anything, we're established that," she said in a very prim and proper sort of voice. Playacting as an innocent girl.

"That doesn't mean you aren't hiding murderous designs somewhere in that little head of yours," he hissed. "Hogwarts and the Headmaster have many enemies, as you well know. As I've mentioned before, it's very convenient a little girl from a prominent family of Dark wizards would just happen to be in the neighborhood when we needed a new Dark Arts teacher."

"I told you to stop comparing me with my family!" she shouted, now very angry. "I am not a Dark wizard! Stop acting like I'm going to kill you all!"

"Is that so?" he drawled, seeing her pale face turn crimson as a poppy. "Tell me then, Lady Woodville. Did you ever want to hurt anyone here at the school?"

She looked him straight in the eye, her mouth drawn into a thin, unsmiling line.

"Only you," she said.

His Dark Mark prickled and a numbing pain shot down his arm, as it always did whenever he grew very, very angry. "Why me?" It came out as a long furious rasp and he cursed himself for showing her something else to use against him. Her lips turned up in response.

"I hate you," she stated simply. Another prickle hit his arm and he grabbed it, massaging the area in an effort to bring himself back under control. "You hated me from the start and you ask why? You're trying to drive me away for no reason. Do you want me to die, Snape?"

"Do you really want the answer to that question?" he spat, fingers still sunk into the flesh of his arm.

An odd expression passed over her face.

"Hmmm...but I know what question you really want the answer to," she said, almost sweetly. Her lips curved in an eerie, false smile.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling as if a very thick, heavy snake was lying across his shoulders, putting weight on his chest. "Headmaster, if you could kindly leave the room for a moment. There is something private between myself and Miss Woodville that we must discuss."

The Headmaster looked ever so faintly wary. "I'm not going to do anything to her," he growled. Why was Dumbledore giving him that look and not her? Didn't the Headmaster know him better then that?

"It's alright," that infuriating brat said. "Don't worry."

With another long look at the both of them, the Headmaster slowly rose to his feet and went into the next room, shutting the door softly behind him. It took her word to make him leave.

He looked at her. Her eyes seemed blank and empty due to the Veritaserum, but they followed his every move. Snape leaned forward, putting his face close to hers, placing his hands on either side of her body. Trapped.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Oh, that," she said, and giggled. Oh that, indeed. His lips had burned for hours afterward and he'd been unable to erase the feel of her mouth on his or the abject humiliation he'd undergone at her small hands.

Worse still were the feelings he wouldn't even acknowledge, not even in the darkest parts of his brain. Those would stay safely buried, killed before they had a chance to flourish and ruin what little sanity he had left.

"Why did you do it?"

"To punish you for being an insufferable bastard. You scared me when I found out you knew who I was. Parents would not want a Woodville teaching their children anything, much less the Dark Arts. The others would shun me. I can't deal with that and I hate admitting that I was frightened by you." Her voice had dropped as she'd gone on and the smile had disappeared.

She looked like a cornered animal, her eyes wide and lips trembling just slightly. He relished the way she was pressed back in her chair, as if trying to escape into it while he crouched over her, delighted at their role reversal. His to play with for a time, turning the knife ever so gently, until he felt merciful and released her. Sweet payback for the torment she'd put him through just by breathing around him.

Oh, he was enjoying this.

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

She sent him a strange, troubled look, her blank eyes dropping at the corners. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He smiled at her. "You boasted to me that you had no blood on your hands. Is that the truth, or another of your distortions?"

Woodville turned about in her seat in an odd, restless way. "You're getting off the subject. This has nothing to do with what happened before."

"Miss Woodville, you were warned about certain things pertaining to secrets you'd rather keep hidden coming to the light. And I'd like to know just what goes through that brain of yours...I assume there is a brain underneath that frivolous manner. Give me the answer to my question."

She turned her face away. "No, I haven't. I've never killed anyone." Her voice sounded as hollow as a glass ball.

"But you've tried." It was a statement of pristine fact.

"I tried once." Her blue eyes were shut fast again, darting around once more under the lids. "I tried to kill Lucius Malfoy by setting the Guardians on him. There. You've heard me say it. And I'm still not as bad as you."

"Why?" Lucius Malfoy, his old mentor, his once friend, now another enemy to be dealt with. "What did he do to you?"

"I was thirteen and very angry at something. He was always insulting me, twitting me about my height, my looks, everything. Please don't make talk about this Snape. I beg you." Her voice was growing rushed and strained.

"Guilt?" he asked softly. This bothered him. He didn't want her to go into convulsions again, which would surely bring the Headmaster back out, and Snape felt Dumbledore did not need any more reasons to be disappointed in him.

"Nooooo!" she said, her voice growing louder, her movements more agitated. "I loved it-I scared the shit out of him, don't you know that? It was wonderful. I proved to everyone how powerful I was. It was what they did to me afterwards that I can't bear."

Snape pulled both her hands off the chair arms and held them tightly in his own. "Listen to me. Calm yourself. Don't think about it if it bothers you." He chafed her wrists, feeling the blood rush through. She owned him a little humiliation and pain, but not this.

"Too late. " She was laughing through a kind of sob. "This hurts so much, but it's not going to go away, so I might as well tell you."

He was hit with the sudden knowledge that more then anything in the world he did not want to hear her next words.

"I was Sealed."

Snape shut his eyes. "By whom?" he whispered.

"My mother. She was terrified when she found out I knew how to raise the Guardians. My father was away. He came home and went berserk when he found out what'd she'd done."

Sealing-to permanently cap off a wizard's maximum power, to limit what they were capable of, to forever deny them the chance at reaching their full potential. To do that to a child...He bit his lip.

Iolanthe, you grotesque bitch.

She seemed calmer now that she'd gotten it out, her hands ceasing their frantic pulling under his own. "It stunted my growth. That's why I'm so short. Thank God I'd already gone through puberty, or else I would have ended up permanently stuck in the body of a child." The girl managed a short, dry laugh, her grip on his hands easing.

He opened his eyes and studied her. Her entire body seemed very relaxed and loose, her hands lying pliant in his. The Veritaserum was putting her to sleep, a sign that it was beginning to wear off. Her head lolled to one side.

"So tired," she mumbled. "I can't talk much longer."

"Then rest," he said, placing her hands back on the folds of her skirt and standing. Every muscle in his body felt cramped and bent. "I've heard enough."

She was asleep, a loose strand of hair falling over her eyes and into her mouth, where it fluttered with each breath. With only a little hesitation, and using the very tips of his fingers, he brushed it back and tucked it behind her ear.

The Headmaster was suddenly behind him, touching his arm. He'd never even heard the door open. "Severus," he murmured. "It's time we talked ourselves."

He nodded and allowed the Headmaster to lead him into the next room.

When she opened her eyes, Snape was gone and the room quiet. Lilika put a hand to her aching head and shivered from the chill that was still lingering from the Headmaster's spell. Her stocking was lying draped across her shoe; she'd forgotten to put it back on after showing off her scar. She bent and began pulling it back on, careful not to raise her skirt too much in case someone came back into the room suddenly.

So Snape had been there that day. So he'd gotten to see her bleed all over everything, her leg ripped open to her upper thigh, her left eye blackened. He'd probably seen her crying too, after she'd come back from her last futile search. How embarrassing.

Now that she was thinking about it, despite everything that had happened that day, the thing that stuck out most in her mind all these years later wasn't her damaged leg or her loss. It was her sister giving her a hug, after she'd come back tear-streaked and pitiful. Maida was so remote, so cold and mechanical in everything she did, it had been a true shock to have her come up and pull her runny-nosed little sister into her arms. Maida had even told her she was sorry. This in front of a bunch of Death Eaters too.

Considering what their mother had done to Maida, it was even more surprising now that she looked back on it.

Your mother has destroyed two of my children, her father had rasped, full of cold rage as he stood over her bed. I'm not going to let her destroy my last.

They had gone into the side room, off the Headmaster's main office. Here were some couches and chairs, meant for more informal gatherings; here also was Fawkes, looking glum and particularly decrepit as he huddled in a scraggly ball on the floor of his cage.

"I apologise, Fawkes," the Headmaster had said to the phoenix, stroking his head through the shining bars of his cage. "I know you wanted some peace and quiet, but things happen, as they always do. Severus, please sit."

He choose the chair in front of the door, so he could keep an ear open for sounds if the girl happened to awaken. The Headmaster drew up a chair to face him, and they sat together in silence for a moment or two, looking at each other; or rather the Headmaster looked at him while he looked at his feet, throat burning with frustration and not a little shame.

This was uncomfortably reminiscent of their first meeting in this room, fifteen years ago.

He'd gone straight to Hogwarts the day after the funeral with a pain he hadn't thought possible knawing in his heart. The Headmaster had let him in, taken him to this room, and asked why he'd come. Because you can help me, he'd replied.

Dumbledore's cheerful face had gone grave at the desperate urgency in his voice. I will always help those who have need of it, he'd stated simply.

Then help me destroy him, he'd pleaded, pulling up his sleeve to show his Dark Mark. Help me get my revenge.

Help me stop the suffering.

At that time he'd merely meant his own personal suffering, nothing more altruistic. He been young and stupid, and he had needed a way to atone for his sins, to purge himself and most of all, rid himself of that hideous biting pain. It had taken him many sleepless nights before he realized he would never be clean and many more to realise that no one else should ever have to suffer the way he had. He could accept his pain, even embrace it after a while-he had brought it on himself. It was a natural consequence and an inevitable result of being a fool.

But the innocent ones never deserved that pain. He had to spare them, make sure no one else would ever have to go through what he had.

Most of the time he had succeeded.

Unfortunately, there had been one crucial time when he had failed. Spectacularly.

"Severus," the Headmaster said quietly, and he looked up to see Dumbledore's gentle eyes. "Why do you hate her so?"

It was the very last thing he expected to be asked; he'd been thinking the interrogation would be more along the lines of why he had done what he had done. This new line of thinking threw him, and it was a minute before he could answer, throat tight. "Because she's a sneaky snarky pompous little brat from a Death Eater family who's in love with the Dark Arts. She has been nothing but rude and defiant and a danger to everyone ever since she came. Why should I like her?"

The Headmaster a noise low in his throat while Snape's hand gripped his knees. "I would have thought that the both of you would at least respect what you have in common," he said, weariness obvious by the last words. "Yet you were against her from the start. You do seem to have a bias against the Dark Arts teachers, and she would of course notice that, and respond accordingly."

The tightness grew worse. "So what you are saying is that this is ultimately my fault," he said, his entire mouth dry. "Despite the fact that I had every reason and every right to be suspicious and wary of a girl I knew was from a Death Eater family? She did what she pleased-and look what happened. People could have been hurt, killed."

"Including herself. You also forget that she was acting under my permission the entire time," the Headmaster said, and waited for Snape to look up at him. "Right now, Severus, I am most concerned with finding out who set off that golem and why. I fear it may have been a plot to discredit Liliana-or even worse, to murder her. She has never tried to hide who she was from me." He rose and walked over to the room's single narrow window, peering through it at the ground below.

"Then why didn't you say anything? Had I known you knew all about her, I would have taken her to you at once..."

Dumbledore turned and gave him a sharp look. His heart sank. "That is what you should have done at the start. As for telling you who she really was, would it have made a difference? I doubt it. Despite your standoffish exterior, you are a man very much ruled by your emotions and prejudices...and sometimes not for the better."

Snape studied his hands. They looked very white, thin, and knobby against the black of his robes. "I apologise," he finally got out, his throat so constricted the words were little more then whispers. This was just like the werewolf, this was worse then the werewolf.

"Ah, Severus," the Headmaster said, and he felt the Headmaster touch his arm, a soft warmth spreading through his aching muscles. "I know what you most desire is to keep Hogwarts and myself safe from all harm and I am honoured that you consider me worthy of your protection." The Headmaster sighed and left his side again. "I only wish you would give those you I have promised to protect the same consideration." The small bit of gratitude he had felt at the compliment promptly faded at the disappointment in the Headmaster's voice.

"So you intend to give her protection at the expense of others," he said, his voice low. He did not look at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore gave an audible sigh. "I told Liliana that I would give her my protection and I intend to keep that promise." A warning note slipped into his voice. "She is not the only one here whose presence could expose Hogwarts to threats."

Himself, the girl, Potter.

He stayed silent as the Headmaster began wandering around the room again, dusting a few things here, pushing other things over a few inches there, muttering to himself all the while. Snape watched this performance with a bit of trepidation bubbling in him. He'd seen this behavior before, right before the Headmaster made some odd request or gave someone a particularly unusual task.

Dumbledore paused by his chair, still deep in thought from the expression on his face.

He waited.

"Severus, I've always thought your greatest strength was that you would do any task you were given to the utmost of your ability," the Headmaster finally said, a strange light in his eyes.

He didn't like where this seemed to be leading.

"I believe I've found a way to lay your suspicions about Liliana to rest, as well as give her a bit of extra protection, at least until we've ascertained what exactly is going on here," the Headmaster continued, sounding quite pleased about something.

A drop of sweat trailed its way down his back.

"Severus, I want you to watch Liliana for me."

There it was-proof that his life was no longer worth living. Might as well put himself out on the curb for Voldemort and be done with it.

Well, he wasn't going to go down so easily. He leapt to his feet "WH..."

"WHAT?" a voice shrieked in time with his, finishing his thought. The door flew open and the Woodville girl (obviously awake and very wobbly on her feet) marched in, high indignation written all over her face. She pointed at him with another shriek. "Crazed killer on the loose or what, I will NOT have HIM swooping around after me like an overgrown bat!"

Well, the feeling was mutual then. "Headmaster, I fail to see how my following her is going to help anything," he said, his smile a bare stretch of his lips. "She hates me, and I am not fond of her either."

"What he said," the girl snapped, swaying as she grabbed hold of a chair for support. "I will not have him sniffing around me on a regular basis."

His eye did an involuntary twitch all of its own at her words. "I am not a dog," he informed the brat icily, turning his back on her angry face.

The Headmaster remained calm despite their bickering, his eyes gleaming with what might have been mirth. "I think it's a fine idea and the best solution to everyone's problems. Liliana gets protection from an absolutely trustworthy source, Severus gets to see that Liliana is not evil." Dumbledore then gave them both another bright, blue look that told them they were going to do exactly as he said and not complain about it. "You two will just have to make the best of things until we've figured out what's going on. It is merely a temporary assignment."

The small feeling of warmth he had gotten from being called "absolutely trustworthy" in the woman's presence wasn't enough to erase the knowledge that he was now responsible for the well-being of someone he despised. Constant contact was the last thing in the world he wanted, needed or desired. He felt his teeth grind and his heart rate jump at the thought of having to be around her on a regular basis. He could not let her distract him.

The Woodville girl was breathing heavily, her eyes wide, the blue of her eyes just a thin ring around the pupil. She was making little incoherent sounds of rage, her hands working the chair's slipcover into knots.

This was what the Headmaster wanted, so this was what the Headmaster would get. He bent close to her ear, his breath stirring the little wisps of her around her face. She saw him coming and froze, fingers suddenly stiff on the chair.

"_This_is_all _your_fault_" he whispered, each word distinct.

Her face crimsoned again and with a growl, she spun around and went for the door, slamming it behind as she ran. Her angry footsteps receeded into the distance and he was left alone with the Headmaster, who was once again stroking Fawkes. The bird chirped in a rather morbid way.

There was nothing left to say or do, so he might as well leave also. He went to the door, put his hand on the knob.

The footsteps came back.

"I forgot to say good night," the girl said, craning her head around the door. Her face was sullen, like a child being punished for a tantrum and her eyes did not leave the floor.

"Good night Liliana," the Headmaster said quietly.

She left again. He waited until her could no longer hear her footsteps, then walked into the other room, wanting nothing more in this world then to go back to his chambers and sleep. This had been one of the worst days of his life.

And the rest of them weren't going to be much better.

The Headmaster's voice floated out of the side room. "Severus." He stopped immediately.

"Good night Severus," the Headmaster said, framed in the side room's doorway. He looked very tired.

"Good night," he said softly and left.

"Fawkes, I sometimes believe I am getting too old for this," Dumbledore told the irritable phoenix, trying to soothe him with a little stroking. Fawkes was always bad tempered at a Burning time. He sighed, recalling Severus and Liliana's angry young faces. "They are both very obstinate and trying to get either to do something they dislike is like trying to smash a rock with a feather."

Fawkes gave a grumpy little cheep.

"Yes, I agree. It is vexing." He moved about, straightening the chairs and smoothing the slipcover Liliana had been trying to mutilate. When the room had been set to rights again, he returned to Fawkes's side. "But just think of it. If I can just get Severus to consider her worthy of protection, he will move heaven and earth itself to fulfill that duty."

"And perhaps then," Dumbledore said quietly, his eyes pale and shining in the room's dim, "Liliana will realise that and try to support him in return."