Sacrifice

"Dark days..... Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with

strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin' over.

'Course some stood up to him - an he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only

safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-

Who was afraid of."

[HP:SS/PS - p54-55]

******************************************************************************

SACRIFICE

He told himself when he reached the alley the hood could come off. Just a little ways more.... Just a little.... The damn thing smelled of mold and death and he hated it. Almost as much as the mark on his arm. But, anonymity was key. No one must see him. No one must know.

They would be surprised if they did.

He felt his way through the darkness, eventually locating a door. He knocked twice, as was the custom, and turned the handle. The door creaked. He entered.

The room was smoky and smelled of sandalwood and knotgrass. Shelves took up all existing wall space; filled with ancient scrolls and musty tomes. He approached a man reading in the back, and lay a roll of parchment on the table.

"For Tallin Finn," he said.

"From Braemar, I presume?" the man replied.

He nodded.

"I shall see that he receives it." The man picked up a pouch from the table. "For your troubles."

He took the pouch, pocketed it and left. Outside, he ran to the alley, and yanked off the hood.

Severus Snape took in a deep breath and wiped the back of his neck with the accursed item. His black hair was matted to his skin with sweat and grime. He took in another cleansing breath, smelling the dampness of the oncoming storm. He'd go back to his room, he thought, check in, and hopefully get some sleep.

Snape glanced around him. He neither heard, nor saw anyone. With a crack, he was gone.

He apparated in his dingy cell of a room. There was not much to it, merely a dresser, a bed, a small kitchen space, and a single small window. Snape threw his hood on the table, and his wand on top of it. He crossed to the sink, turned on the tap, and ran his hands under the cool water. He splashed his face, and dried himself on the sleeve of his cloak.

Behind him, a tall figure appeared out of the shadows in the corner of the room.

"Severus."

Snape jumped and spun around. Breathing hard, he spat, "What the hell do you want?"

"Severus!" There was a stern note to the voice.

The figure peeled back the hood of it's cloak, revealing long silver hair and a beard, and sparkling blue eyes framed by half moon glasses.

Damn, Snape thought. Dumbledore.

Ignoring Snape's rudeness, Albus Dumbledore rearranged his cloak and sat on the corner of the bed. He clasped his long fingers around one knee and regarded the young man.

"I'd absolutely love a cup of tea about now," Dumbledore said simply.

"Yes, Sir," Snape said. He retrieved his wand from the table and lit the stove. He busied himself filling the kettle, gathering cups, and ignoring the older man.

Dumbledore hummed to himself for a moment, and then said, "I trust things were delivered tonight."

"I trust no one followed you here," Snape muttered under his breath.

"Oh, I'm never followed." He resumed his humming.

Snape placed the cup on the table. "There's your tea."

"Thank you." And, Dumbledore sat there on the bed, long fingers still interlaced around his knee, quietly humming.

Snape stared incredulously at him. "Aren't you going to drink it?"

Dumbledore smiled benignly. "No."

Snape rolled his eyes and slumped against the sink.

Dumbledore regarded him over the rim of his glasses.

"Sir," Snape said, straightening, tucking his shirt into his pants.

"Now," Dumbledore said, "what can you tell me about Regulus Black?"

"Why?" Snape asked.

"I asked, what can you tell me about Regulus Black?" Dumbledore had neither raised his voice nor changed his expression, and the gesture was not lost on Snape.

That man had all the patience in the world with him, but Snape was rapidly losing his. He tried not to let it show. Tried.... It had been a long day. They were all long days now. And, Dumbledore knew how he felt about the Blacks.

"He's an idiot," Snape answered.

"I surmised as much, Severus. Perhaps if I inquire of your knowledge to his whereabouts? Could you answer that?"

Snape loathed it when Dumbledore called him by his first name. It transported him back to school, where a stern look and the calling of his name would make him feel as if the wizard could reach right into his mind. Now Snape knew that he could. Dumbledore's powers of legillimancy outweighed those of the Dark Lord himself.

In these past few months, thanks to his former Headmaster, his own skills at occulmency had increased tenfold.

"Severus?"

Snape snapped out of his reverie. "Sorry. Sir?"

"Regulus Black.... Do you know where he might be?"

"Oh, yes. Possibly." Snape rubbed his eyes. He was so very tired. "I have heard he has a place southwest of London. He has a small group of followers, it seems."

"Do you know who they might be?" Dumbledore asked.

"No."

Dumbledore gazed at Snape pointedly, a small smile playing across his face.

Snape glared back. "Would you like me to find out names?" he growled. "Sir?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful." Dumbledore stood. He took the cooling cup from the table and handed it to Snape.

Snape turned to pour the tea into the sink, and when he turned back, Dumbledore was gone.

He threw himself onto his bed. Oh, the man was infuriating. Still, Snape owed Dumbledore his life. He had suffered more than the external wounds from the beatings, and if Dumbledore had not found him that night, he would surely have died. Or, have been killed later on.

He had been abandoned by his fellow Death Eaters once those Muggles had begun fighting back. In the scuffle he had lost his wand, and without a wand he was powerless. How Dumbledore knew he was there, Snape was still unsure. The past eight months had not been easy for him, but this was for the best.

He heard the rain start beating a drumroll on his window.

He would do what Dumbledore asked.

Tomorrow.

The bell on the door announced his arrival. At the counter, an older man looked up from the letter he was reading. A tawny owl stood patiently nearby, awaiting the man's reply.

"Good. You're here." The man regarded the letter once more. "We've received a complicated order, and I daresay I'll need your.... particular talents."

Snape nodded, closing the door behind him. "Yes, Mr. Borgin."

"I believe you know the Black family?" Borgin straightened, holding the letter out.

Startled, Snape took the parchment quickly. His dark, lank hair hung in front of his face, masking the surprise in his eyes.

What he may have caught, Borgin mistook for excitement. "I told you it was complicated. Not impossible for someone of your abilities, though," he chuckled.

"It's fine.... It's fine...." Snape muttered. He regarded his employer. "Is this from Black Senior?"

Borgin shook his head. "No. Seems the younger of the boys is taking up where Father left off."

Regulus. Snape knew instantly he was talking about Regulus Black. For the first time in his life fortune had fallen right in his lap. He could complete this deed for Dumbledore and be done with it.

Snape gestured to the owl. "Let Black know it will be done by this evening. I'll deliver it myself." He slipped around the counter and into the back rooms.

If Borgin was surprised by this, he did not let it show. "Feel free to use my herb stores," he said in Snape's wake.

Snape adjusted his hood and knocked on the door. This was Black's place - not much more than what he had. That gave Snape a slight feeling of satisfaction. He had grown up in the shadow of the Black family's status in the wizarding community. Well, the darker portion of it, anyway. Then, there was Regulus' older brother....

He knocked on the door again; more forcefully this time.

The door opened to reveal a slight young man with unbelievably blond hair. He glared at Snape through thick glasses.

He spoke slowly, "What do you want?"

"I have a delivery from Mr. Borgin to Mr. Black," Snape said.

The man studied him. "You look familiar," he said.

"Are you going to let me in?" Snape growled, "or should I just drop this off here?" He held the vial of potion between his thumb and forefinger.

"Show it," the man spat.

Snape pocketed the vial for safekeeping, and grudgingly pulled up the left sleeve of his cloak. "Satisfied?"

The door opened wider to admit him. Snape entered and pulled off his hood.

The ice blue eyes behind the glasses squinted at Snape. "Who are you? I know you."

Snape's words were measured. "Is Black here?"

"Someone at the door, Randolph?" A man appeared out of the shadows to Snape's right. He was a few years younger than Snape, tall, with a shock of unruly brown hair.

Studying him for a moment, Snape finally spoke. "Regulus. I had heard you'd joined."

A broad grin spread across the pleasant face. "Severus Snape! Haven't seen you since the old halls at Hogwarts." He clapped Snape hard on the shoulder. "Where have you been hiding yourself?"

Snape smiled slightly, in an attempt to appear genial. "I have your order from Mr. Borgin."

Black laughed. "So you're his new wonder-boy! Father had heard ol' Borgin had a new potions maker we needed to try out. Hadn't any idea we knew him." He steered Snape away from the door and into a dingy sitting room.

"Have a seat, Severus. We need to get reacquainted."

Snape was back at Borgin's shop before the night was through. The shop was still open, but the man had left, with a note instructing Snape to close up.

Fool, Snape thought. It wasn't that the proprietor was trusting of either his employee or his customers - there were enough jinxs around the place should anyone fix on the notion of theft - it was more that Snape felt the man didn't care. Reminded him of his father that way.

Snape shuddered at the thought. He busied himself tidying up the counter, and locked the door to the outside world. In the dark and quiet he found the jar of Floo powder by the fireplace. He took a pinch and stepped onto the grate.

"Hogwarts. Headmaster's office," he charged, disappearing in a flash of green.

Snape was uncomfortable in the squashy armchair. He shifted every few seconds, attempting to disrupt the gaze of Dumbledore's infernal bird.

"Sir?" Snape asked insistently.

Dumbledore held up a hand, intently scribbling in a large book.

Snape sighed audibly. He knew this was yet another of Dumbledore's 'lessons in patience', or something. If he could just give the wizard his report, he could get on with his lousy life.

Dumbledore lay down his quill and regarded Snape over his long steepled fingers.

"Now," Dumbledore smiled, "you've seen Regulus Black. You've talked."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Go back and talk some more."

"What?" Snape leapt to his feet.

Dumbledore's eyes bore into Snape over the rim of his glasses. "Severus, sit down."

Snape sat.

"What I am about to tell you will go no further that this room. Do you understand me?"

Those eyes had delved into the very center of his mind, and Snape understood. "Yes, Sir," he said.

Dumbledore rose and came around his desk to stand before Snape. "Regulus Black is afraid."

"Of what?" Snape asked.

"Voldemort." Dumbledore crossed his arms. "He doesn't want to be a Death Eater anymore."

Snape snorted. "Then he'll be dead. You just don't leave the service of the Dark Lord...." He regarded his knees very intently, and mumbled, "Not without a protector, at any rate."

"Precisely."

Snape startled and glared at Dumbledore. "No. No! Absolutely not!"

"Severus --"

"I will not play protector to Black!"

Dumbledore's voice was gentle. "Regulus and his followers will someday prove valuable allies. If we can keep them alive. You will know most of them from school. You will be able to win their confidence quickly."

"But, he knows I've been a Death Eater. If he wants out so badly, why would he trust me?"

Dumbledore continued to smile.

Snape shook his head decisively. "No. Sir."

"You do understand, Severus. I know you do."

That was it, then. Snape angrily gathered his cloak and headed for the fireplace.

"Thank you, Severus."

It was the last he heard before the flames engulfed him.

The young man had said nothing, but his mere presence annoyed Snape no end. He adjusted the flame under the cauldron and turned on him.

"Do you want something from me, Randolph?"

"I don't like you," Randolph replied. "Didn't like you much at school, don't like you much now."

"Perhaps you will then be comforted to find the feeling is mutual." Snape resumed tending the potion.

Against his better judgement, Snape had offered up his services to Regulus Black. For the past several weeks he had been tending to cauldrons and stirring up foul smelling potions. He hadn't heard a thing from Dumbledore, but Snape figured if the wizard had wanted him, he'd know.

He was playing the role of the good Death Eater again, and, as Dumbledore had hinted, had been accepted without question. As Dumbledore has also told him, there were definite murmurings of discontent among Black and his followers. No one in the little group had come right out and said anything, still Snape could sense the underlying fear. It was if they were all playing the role of the good Death Eater.

"Randolph," Snape said without facing him, "find Regulus and tell him this is nearly ready."

"Why don't you do it yourself?" Randolph sneered.

"Because if I leave the cauldron, the solution will congeal, you dolt."

Snape smiled to himself as he head Randolph storm out of the room.

No sooner had the man left, Snape heard footsteps come back into the room.

"Randolph, I'm back! Is Regulus --"

Snape turned sharply to find a young witch with flaming red hair and brilliant green eyes framed in the doorway. She wore a traveling cloak and carried a small bag.

He was suddenly back in school. There had been the four of them who had tortured him mercilessly, taking any and every opportunity to hex, jinx or tease. She had never joined in, but had never been far from them. She was Muggle-born, but she was beautiful. She was the opposite of all he had grown up around. She was.... But, no, this was not her. This was --

"Severus Snape? Is that you?" The young woman grinned broadly. Dropping her bag, she rushed over to Snape and embraced him boldly.

Startled by the display of affection, Snape backed up quickly, nearly dislodging the cauldron. The ladle he had been holding clattered nosily to the floor.

She let go of him and took a step back.

"Severus Snape," she said again. Her eyes were bright and she seemed genuinely happy to see him.

"Don't you remember me? I'm Astrid, from school. I mean, I was two years behind you, but--"

Astrid. Yes, Astrid Evans, Snape thought. Astrid, not Lily. This one had a witch mother. Lily's cousin, that was it. They looked so much alike. He realized she was still talking to him, and he snapped himself back.

"-- been away a fortnight, and now come back to find you here. Wow!"

She was bubbling, and Snape felt it could almost be catching. Almost.

"It's.... uh.... good to see you, too.... Astrid."

Normally, Snape would have gladly taken any diversion, but he found himself strangely surprised at the sudden burst of anger he felt when Regulus Black entered the room. As usual, Randolph tagged along behind.

"Ah, Astrid, you're back." Maybe it was imagination, but Regulus appeared to puff himself up in her presence. He tossed his thick hair and smiled toothily at her. "You see who's offered up his services to us?"

This was laughable to Snape. Black was preening himself in front of Astrid, as if he, Severus Marcellus Snape, could be considered a threat. Laughable, yes, but he did catch himself standing a little taller.

"Regulus," he said, "this is finished." Snape indicated the cauldron. "I had better be getting back to Borgin's."

Astrid reached out and touched him on the arm as he passed by. "I hope we'll see you later, Severus."

Snape nodded, daring a quick gaze into her eyes before looking downward once again.

He was panting heavily by the time he reached the shop. But it was not because he had rushed to get there.

"Looks like you've seen a ghost, son," Borgin had said to him.

Perhaps he had. As he put on his apron and got to work, he saw flashes of emerald, as green as her eyes, everywhere he looked. He would have trouble concentrating today, that was for sure.

If there was one thing to make Snape grateful for his time spent with Black, it was that Dumbledore had left him alone. He knew he was being watched, but he was able to go about with what he was doing without having to report and without being questioned. Though, Snape had some questions of his own - primarily why Black needed protecting at all. He seemed to be doing quite well by himself.

Snape had seen nothing over the past few months to indicate Regulus Black was in any danger, imminent or otherwise. However, it had recently come to his attention that there were fewer times Black would respond when the Death Eaters were summoned, and, if he did, he'd slip away before they'd receive their orders.

One such night, Snape followed. They had been in the woods. Somewhere. Snape wasn't quite sure, having apparated when his mark started to burn. He had caught up with Black in a small clearing.

"Regulus, wait up."

Black turned. "Severus, get back before someone notices you're gone."

"Why don't you get back before someone notices you're gone," Snape hissed. "You've been sneaking away almost every evening. I've noticed, and sooner or later someone else is going to catch on. Maybe Avery, maybe Malfoy, maybe even the Dark Lord Himself."

"Don't let it concern you, Severus," Black said forcefully.

"Why not? If it's known I have been keeping company with your little group, and you continue to flaunt orders, I'm as good as gone."

"I'll say it one more time, Severus, don't let it concern you." He disapparated with a clap.

Snape readjusted his hood and stomped off muttering to himself, continuing the charade.

If there was one more thing to make Snape grateful for his time spent with Black, it was Astrid. He was happy in her company, and that surprised him. She would often sit with him while he worked his own magic at the cauldrons and flasks, asking him questions and reminding him how hopeless she was in Potions class. On more than one occasion, he caught himself laughing at a story she told.

Snape found himself spending more and more time at Black's place, if only for her company. After a while, he realized just how much Regulus resented this. Snape did not see himself as competition for Astrid's attention. They were friends. That was all they could be. Whatever Regulus thought was his problem.

The door chimed as someone entered the shop, and Snape shook his head. Borgin was off, picking up a crate of merchandise. He had left him in charge. He had also left him with a long list of orders to fill, and the blasted customers kept bothering him.

"Just a moment!" Snape yelled from the back. He removed the filthy apron he was wearing, threw it on a chair, and stalked out to the front of the store.

"Hello, Severus." She turned from the cabinet containing shrunken heads and mummified fingers, and smiled as he entered the room. She was the only person he knew who could brighten up the dismal place.

"Astrid," Snape stammered, "what are you doing here?"

"I hadn't seen you in the past two nights." She gazed around the shop. "I thought maybe we could get something to eat."

"Oh." Snape looked everywhere but at her. "Yes."

He hastily scrawled Borgin a note, and followed her out the door, locking it behind them.

Astrid steered them out of the shadows by Borgin & Burkes, towards the sunlight and bustle of Diagon Alley. When they emerged, she took his arm. Snape flinched, but she held tight.

"I don't know how you can stand Knockturn Alley," Astrid said. "It's so dark and miserable down there."

"Down there is where my job is," Snape replied. His eyes were unaccustomed to such brightness, and he blinked repeatedly.

As if sensing his discomfort, Astrid gripped his arm tighter, moving him closer to her. The gesture was not lost on Snape, but it only made his stomach clench more.

"I would think," she continued, "with your proficiencies, you could open up your own potions shop."

"I don't think so," Snape said.

She continued to chatter on as they ambled along the street. Every now and then they would stop to look in shop windows, and Astrid would comment on one thing or another. Snape would nod appropriately, while remaining aware of others around them.

They eventually found themselves at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

Astrid indicated an outdoor table, off to the side and in the shade.

"Why don't you sit here," she said. "I'll go get us something."

Snape sat, glancing furtively around him. This was alright - they were in the corner and he did prefer being out of the public view. He slunk down into the metal chair and waited for her.

Astrid exited the shop several minutes later, carrying two large sundaes laden with ice cream, whipped topping, cherries and sprinkles.

Snape frowned and Astrid laughed. She placed a sundae in front of him.

"What?"

His upper lip curled. "Do you want me to eat this?"

"Of course," she replied, sitting down.

"I don't eat for pleasure." Snape pushed the dish away.

Astrid pushed it back. "Yes you do."

Snape sighed. He tentatively dipped is spoon into the concoction. It was sweet. It was nauseating. She was obviously enjoying herself, emitting small contented noises with every mouthful.

"Why did you bring me here?" Snape asked.

She shrugged. "I thought you needed a little more fun in your life."

Snape stared, unblinking. That was a new one.

He stood. "I need to leave. I'm sorry."

She put her hand over his. "Severus, please stay. I really do need to talk to you."

Snape could see the honesty and pleading in her eyes. He sat.

"I have something to tell you." Astrid lowered her voice. "Regulus told us he wants to leave."

"Leave?" Snape asked, already knowing the answer.

"The Death Eaters," Astrid confirmed.

"Shhh!" Snape hissed through his teeth. "Do not say that word outloud."

"What?"

"You never know who might be around." This was unbelievable.

"There aren't any Death Eaters around here," she laughed.

Snape buried his face in his hands in exasperation. When he finally spoke, it was through clenched teeth.

"I'm a Death Eater, Astrid."

"You're different, Severus."

Well, that was that, Snape thought. Aloud, he said, "You just don't get it, do you?"

"Regulus asked me to marry him," Astrid blurted suddenly.

Those words made Snape forget about everything else - the ice cream, the Death Eaters....

"Uh..." he stammered. "Well...."

Astrid put down her spoon and pushed her dish closer to his.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Snape had no idea what to say. This was not what he had expected. His throat closed and his voice grew hoarse.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"What should I do?"

"I think you could do worse?" Snape didn't mean that to come out as a question, but it did.

"I think I could do better," she said, quietly.

"Than Black?" Snape nearly laughed. "Lucius Malfoy, perhaps, but I hear he is engaged to Black's cousin." His mouth was quicker than his mind now, and he was babbling without thinking. Not a smart thing for one in his position.

"Severus, wake up!" Astrid slammed an open palm on the table. Snape jumped. "I don't mean Malfoy. He's a pompous prat. I mean you."

The revelation silenced Snape immediately. It was unbelievably cliché, but only in his wildest dreams could this be happening. His mind raced. His heart raced faster. His breath came in strangled gasps.

"No," he said finally.

"What?" Astrid's voice was very quiet. "I thought there was something between us."

"No," Snape repeated. He saw the shattered look on her face, and realized too late he had made a terrible mess of things. "I didn't mean No, to that, I meant...."

"Severus --"

"Astrid," Snape said softly, "there are at least a hundred reasons why that would be a very bad idea."

Astrid stood and smoothed out her robes. "I'm sorry, I should have known. Perhaps I should marry Regulus."

Snape noticed for the first time she did not look at him. "I.... Astrid...."

"I won't bother you anymore, Severus." And, with that, she left.

It was late; well past midnight. They had been summoned and had appeared before the Dark Lord. As always, this unnerved Snape.

They were in an area that Snape recognized as being not to far from the town of Hogsmead, just outside the gates of Hogwarts. He had spent enough time skulking around these parts on weekends off from school, it was all that familiar to him. But, it was Dumbledore's domain. Why was the Dark Lord parading his power so close to Dumbledore?

As his Master - his alleged Master - slowly made his way around the circle of Death Eaters, Snape cleared his mind. There must be nothing . He could not let his thoughts, his own fear and doubt, betray him. Dumbledore had taught him well, and he relaxed.

When the Dark Lord spoke, it was barely above a whisper. "There is dissention among you. There is discontent." The last word was pronounced very slowly, very carefully.

The faces of the assembled Death Eaters were covered, but He knew each and every one. Snape could only guess at the voices. He didn't know which one was Black, if he was there at all. Since Astrid's declaration in Diagon Alley, Snape had been avoiding the house. He had not seen her or Black since. For once, he hoped the man had not heeded the call.

The Dark Lord continued, "You know who you are. Soon," He paused, "all will know who you are."

The Dark Lord continued to make His way languidly around the circle of Death Eaters. The tension in the air was palpable. Infused with excitement, it nearly crackled like heat lightning on a warm summer's eve.

Snape shifted, sweating profusely under his hood and robe.

Pausing before a Death Eater, the Dark Lord whispered, audible enough for those in the immediate vacinity to hear.

"There will be a hunt tonight."

"Yes, my Lord," the Death Eater responded.

"And, why is that?"

"Because you are displeased, my Lord."

"Yes!" The Dark Lord's voice rang through the trees, scattering night creatures into the darkness.

He continued His determined stroll, eventually coming to a halt before a tall, hooded figure directly across the circle from Snape.

Placing His hands on the person's shoulders, the Dark Lord said, "You are my follower, are you not?"

"Yes," came the weak reply.

The Death Eater was clear terrified, and had spoken so softly Snape could not recognize the voice.

"Do you think so? Really?" It was more of a statement than a question. The Dark Lord shook His head. "No. I think NOT!"

The Dark Lord stalked back into the center of the circle and pointed at the accused.

"This man chose my Mark! This man has professed to being a follower!" He was shouting now, louder and louder with each pronouncement. "But, word has come to me that he wishes to leave! He wishes to leave!" The Dark Lord laughed. It was a mirthless laugh. It was pure evil.

The sound shook Snape to his very soul.

"See him now. His face covered, but not for long." The Dark Lord gestured to a Death Eater on his right, who approached the now quivering man. "Let us have everyone see the coward in their midst."

The Death Eater tore the hood from the man's head.

For a moment, Snape stopped breathing. It was Black.

The Dark Lord approached him, arms outstretched. "Regulus, my dear boy."

Snape shuddered as their Master enveloped Black in a tight embrace. He was certain he knew what would come next. From the stricken look on Black's ashen face, Black knew, too.

Releasing Black from His grip, the Dark Lord took a step back.

"Are you prepared to meet death when it comes, Regulus?" He asked.

Black's body shook in response to his Master's voice. He could not answer.

"Are you?" the Dark Lord yelled.

Black nodded without conviction.

"Answer me!"

"Yes, my Lord," Black croaked.

"Good."

Snape could not see the Dark Lord's face, but he could sense the smile of triumph that was surely appearing as He stared at His next victim.

The Dark Lord raised a hand. "Malfoy! Crabb! Avery! Snape!" He paused, his eyes remaining on Black. "Give our friend a head start."

He disapparated with a clap of thunder.

His name having been spoken, Malfoy removed his hood. His cold grey eyes glittered in the moonlight. He walked slowly around Black, twirling his wand in one hand. "Are you ready?" he asked. "Are you ready for the chase?"

Black looked at Malfoy dead on. "I can outrun you."

Snape had approached with Crabb and Avery. They, too, had removed their hoods.

Malfoy laughed, and looked at them. "He thinks he can outrun us!"

Crabb and Avery laughed with Malfoy. Snape did not join in, nor did he look at Black.

"Well, then...." Malfoy put his face very close to Black's and whispered, "Run, little rabbit, run."

Black took off, knocking over a Death Eater in his effort to get as far into the woods as possible. There was a good chance Malfoy and his men would ignore their Master's request for a head start. He was right.

Snape followed a few paces behind them. Crabb was lagging behind, as well. With their dark robes and the cover of the trees keeping out most of the moonlight, it would be easy to get separated. For Snape, and for Crabb, it wouldn't be a first.

Snape paused, assessing his surroundings. Yes, he knew where he was. To his left he saw a flash of green light, and heard "Damn!" and "Over here!" Snape ran the opposite way.

He crashed through briars that tore at his robe. He tromped through and fell in puddles of mud. He didn't stop. He saw the lights of the village, but kept running. He stumbled up the hill, finally reaching the castle doors, praying they would be open. It was late, and they were locked. He banged on the doors until he could no more, and fell in a heap on the cold stone.

After what seemed like forever, the doors to Hogwarts creaked open. Panting hard, he stared up into the welcoming face of his old Transfiguration teacher.

Minerva McGonagall blinked unbelievingly at him. "Severus Snape? What are you doing here?"

Between heaving breaths, Snape managed to get out, "Dumbledore."

McGonagall helped him to his feet. "Let's get you inside."

Snape shook his head. "I need to see Dumbledore."

"First we get you inside." McGonagall steered him through the entrance.

Like a prayer answered, Dumbledore emerged from the Great Hall, a large turkey sandwich in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. He stopped when he saw Snape. He hastened to put his food on the stairs, and went to meet them.

"Severus," he said, his voice full of concern, "what happened?"

Snape glared at McGonagall.

"She's in the Order, Severus," Dumbledore said.

Snape shook his head.

Dumbledore turned to McGonagall, "I will take care of him, Minerva."

"Of course, Albus." She ascended the stairs without looking back.

Dumbledore turned back to Snape. "What happened?"

Snape tried to wipe the dirt and sweat and tears from his face. "They got him. Black. I think he's dead."

"Tell me what happened."

Snape took a deep breath. "We were summoned tonight. The Dark Lord was there --"

"Voldemort did this?" Dumbldore's eyes widened.

Wincing at the Dark Lord's name, Snape nodded. "He ordered it personally."

The entire story emerged, bit by bit, moment by moment. Dumbledore did not speak until Snape brought him up to the present.

"You must go back," Dumbledore said.

"Are you crazy?" Snape yelled. "I'll be killed!"

Dumbledore took Snape by the shoulders. "Listen to me very carefully, Severus. Black's followers are in grave danger. I told you when I first sent you to them that they would someday prove themselves to be valuable allies. We must keep them alive to do so."

Snape sagged, resigned. "What must I do?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Go to them. If Regulus is indeed dead, the Death Eaters will be afraid of what he might have told them. Their lives will mean nothing."

Despite what he had thought of Randolph, and realizing what he still felt for Astrid, Snape knew they did not deserve to die as Black did. More innocent blood must not be shed tonight.

"Yes, Sir," he said to Dumbledore.

"Tell them to stay together, then get yourself out. You must not be found there, by either the Death Eaters or the Order. Make sure they are safe, and I will take care of the rest." Dumbledore opened the castle doors. "You will need to get off the castle grounds in order to disapparate. So, hurry!"

Snape ran as fast as he could.

He aparated in a dark house. His first thought was the horror that the Death Eaters had reached them before he had. He did not cry out for Randolph or Astrid for fear the Dark Lord's servants might still be there. Snape moved as quickly and as quietly through the house as possible.

He was on the upper floor when he opened a door to find her lying on a bed, asleep.

"Astrid," Snape whispered.

She stirred and opened her eyes. When she saw it was him, she sat up.

"Severus, what are you doing here?"

"Where is everyone?" Snape asked.

Astrid shrugged. "Asleep, I guess. Regulus didn't return, so we --"

"He's dead," Snape said without preamble.

"What?" Shock resounded in her voice.

Snape moved into the room. "Regulus is dead. At least I am assuming he is."

"No." Astrid shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "Why do you say that?"

"I was there." Snape sat next to her on the bed. "The Dark Lord found out he wanted to leave. It was inevitable."

"No." Astrid's voice was small.

Snape took her hands. "Listen to me, you are all in danger here. There will be someone coming --"

"What do you mean? Why are we in danger?"

"By mere association with Black." He looked deep into her eyes. "The Dark Lord will be wondering what he may have told you. He will not want you to live."

"Regulus told us nothing. At least, he told me nothing."

"The truth doesn't matter to the Dark Lord, Astrid. It's what he thinks." Snape stood, still holding onto her hands. "I have to leave. Someone will be here soon to escort you to safety. You must tell the others."

Astrid pulled him back down onto the bed. "Don't leave me."

"I cannot be found here," Snape said.

"Please, Severus." She threw her arms around his neck, holding on as if her life depended on it; and, it probably did.

Her touch was electric. Her touch was fire. He leaned in, embracing her in turn. Without warning, her lips brushed the side of his neck, sending shockwaves throughout his body.

Snape was unaccustomed to affection, but he responded as a man. His lips sought out hers; her tongue parting his teeth. Excitement borne out of fear pushed them closer. Closer and closer they moved, until they reached a point where neither could turn back.

In the aftermath, they enveloped each other. With one finger, Astrid traced the faint outlines of scars on Snape's chest and stomach.

"These must have hurt," she said.

"Not really," he replied. Pain from the past meant nothing to him now. There was so much more to come.

"Do we really have to go away?"

"Yes."

"Are you coming with us?"

"No," Snape said, knowing it would make her cry.

"Why?"

He sighed. "Because I can't. And, that's all I can tell you."

Astrid nodded, tears streaming down her face. "And, I suppose I can't stay here with you."

Before Snape could answer, a noise came from the ground floor.

Astrid drew the bedsheet around her. "What was that?"

"I don't know." Snape dressed quickly, in fear he and Dumbledore had not acted quick enough.

A voice followed the noise.

"Randolph Booth!"

Snape startled. It was Dumbledore. This was not good - he had to leave. He had to leave before Dumbledore learned he had stayed. He cursed his poor judgement.

Dumbledore's voice called again. They heard Randolph respond, and then the sound of too many feet.

Snape grabbed his wand and robe, and hunted down his hood. He must leave no evidence he was ever here. Not as much for Dumbledore, but for those who would certainly follow.

"Who is that?" Astrid asked. She was dressed, as well.

"Your ticket out of here," Snape said gently. There would be no time for proper goodbyes.

He opened the bedroom door, and ushered Astrid out in front of him. Putting one finger to his lips, he said, "Do not speak my name. Now, go!"

She turned to see a light and shadowed figures ascending the stairs. When she turned back, Snape was gone.

There was no sense dwelling on what could have been. Black, along with the Dark Lord, had taken it all from him. The Dark Lord, who professed to give so much in return for servitude, did nothing more than take and destroy. Ultimately, Snape hoped that would prove to be his downfall. He also hoped Dumbledore would be the one to bring that about.

Clouds had moved in since earlier in the evening, and now covered the moon. Snape turned from the window and lay down on the bed. When he closed his eyes, he could still see her. He wondered how long it would be before the memory of her clouded over, as well.

He heard the rain start beating a drumroll on his window. There was still much work to be done.

Tomorrow.

The leaves shall fall

as Autumn fades

With Winter's wrath

are sorrows made

Now comes the time

for sacrifice

With each new death

I will pay with my life

For every time

there is a past

For every moment

one will not last

For every tale

there is a price

For each new death

I will pay with my life

The one fair love

each tries to find

the broken heart

will pay no mind

Some live some die

O bleed we might

that with each new death

I will pay with my life