Orion's Pointer

It had to be Parr. Of course, the evidence wasn't overwhelming, but there were enough hints for him to make the guess: appearing three weeks into term with little explanation; right on the heels of that was the reported murder at St Mungo's, more than a handful of instances that showed proficiency with a knife, the unexplained and stubborn neck injury...

Someone had been sent after Parr, someone who had circumvented the usual rules regarding visitation at the hospital. If the visit were to be an innocent one, the person would have attended the hospital during normal hours. So the only explanation was that the person didn't want to be seen by anyone. Whether they had wanted to be seen by Parr was another matter. If she had indeed been the one who had shredded the 'intruder', then it suggested she did not want to be found. Had the intruder been there to kill her? It was possible, but not conclusive.

Snape remembered thinking that it was odd that the MLE had allowed any information regarding the incident to fall into the untrustworthy hands of the Daily Prophet. True, the department was staffed by idiots, but even that didn't explain such a lapse in information security, unless... unless it was deliberately leaked. Leaked by the MLE? He stopped in his tracks, eyes staring in thought at the dirt path that led to the Hogwarts gates.

It would have to be someone from the MLE. Anyone else would have been Obliviated. For the MLE to have appeared so suddenly after the attack indicated that they were well aware not only of Parr's presence at the hospital but also of her abilities--abilities that were still unclear to him. Describing her was akin to describing a vampire as someone who was nocturnal, didn't care for the usual forms of nutrition, and had slightly elongated eye-teeth. All true, but failing to convey the real nature of the creature.

Was that what Parr was? A creature? Snape started walking again, his eyes still downcast. Technically, all living things were creatures, but he knew that certain prejudices singled out some individual living beings as 'creatures' more than others. He shook his head slightly. Semantics. One person's creature was another's pet, was another's food source, was another's loved companion.

Regardless of what she was, Parr had been removed from the hospital while still significantly injured and transferred to Hogwarts. Why? Snape's pace slowed as he neared the school gates, and he looked through the metal bars to the huge stone building beyond: an Unplottable fortress that sat in the middle of nowhere, apparent only to those who were meant to see it. She was there for protection; isolated from the outside world, never allowed off the grounds except in the company of another. Hidden. Her death reported in the Daily Prophet would be noted by those involved in the attempt on her life, if that was what it had been. The MLE wanted it thought that she was dead.

Outside of Hogwarts, I do not exist, she had said.

Who was she hiding from? Snape stopped at the gates. He had sent Trint looking for someone who was supposed to be thought dead. He curled one long-fingered hand around one of the metal bars. The man had given no indication that he thought that the patient who had been reported murdered at the hospital and the woman with the 'fluid definitions' were one and the same, but Trint wasn't stupid. Far from it. It would only be a matter of time before he worked it out, and that was assuming he hadn't already. Snape replayed the meeting over in his mind. He shook his head slightly. If anything, Trint had seemed irritated at the new information Snape had given him. There'd been no pause in speech or flicker of recognition in his eyes, nothing to indicate the man was withholding information. Snape grimaced, hissed the appropriate spell, and pushed the gate open. That didn't mean that Trint wasn't withholding information--just that Snape couldn't tell. He'd learned to be careful around Trint. The man was too sharp sometimes, but then, that was why Snape employed him. He was one of the most adept informants that could be hired, and one of the most expensive. Snape frowned as the gate swung closed behind him. It wasn't the money that bothered him. After all, Dumbledore paid such expenses out of his own pocket. It was the principle of the thing. If Snape allowed Trint to start raising his fees, it would be harder to buy his services in the future once the man realised he could start charging more for the same amount of information. Much as he disliked it, Snape knew he couldn't find everything out himself. He didn't have the time. It was risky using someone else, but sometimes risks had to be taken.

He approached the castle silently through the darkness. The waning moon was hidden behind a heavy bank of cloud that threatened rain, and only a few windows were lit. Most would be in bed by now.

Should he allow Trint to continue to search for information on Parr? It could throw up a flag to those who had sent the intruder into the hospital, and whilst Snape was suspicious of who and what Parr was, he wasn't prepared to be responsible for alerting anyone to Parr's lack of fatality. That Dumbledore allowed Parr at Hogwarts and actively used her abilities outside of it meant that the Headmaster trusted her. He was obviously privy to information that Snape wasn't, and whilst that rankled, Snape had to trust that Dumbledore was using sound judgement.

However, if he called Trint off the search, that would make the man suspicious, perhaps suspicious enough to try and find out why he'd been called off the search. Snape swore under his breath as he entered the castle. Stalemate. Both action and inaction were likely to cause unwanted results, but the truth was that he really did want to know what Parr's story was.

Before the meeting at the house, she'd made a slip. She'd tried to cover it up, but he hadn't been fooled. At first, he'd thought she'd said some peculiar bastardisation of his given name, but the context in which it had been used didn't make sense. Seefy? Seevy? It had sounded like 'seevy', but he'd never heard of the word before and couldn't attach any meaning to it other than it was a noun that Parr ascribed to herself... or at least her family line. That in itself was interesting. It suggested a family trait, something passed through the genetic line rather than a condition acquired from environmental circumstances.

Snape's footsteps echoed through the quiet, stone-skinned corridors, the charmed torches in the wall-brackets alighting in the main thoroughfares at his approach and extinguishing in his wake. He barely noticed them. As he travelled up through the castle, he moved increasingly through darkened passages, past sleeping portraits and dusty tapestries. Light wasn't necessary for him to find his way. A combination of good eye-sight at night and memory served sufficiently to get him to the Headmaster's study.

~*~

"Headmaster, I seriously doubt that my source will find out anything of note within the next twelve hours."

Dumbledore didn't move from his position next to the Pensieve, his bent form silhouetted by the eerie light emanating from the object. Something had captured his attention there, so he appeared to be giving only a slice of his attention to what Snape was saying.

"That may be true, Severus, but I cannot afford to discount any possible source of information at this time."

"I take it that Lupin and Parr have not yet returned."

Dumbledore sighed. "No. Although, I doubt the news they bring will be positive, so I confess to be somewhat apprehensive of their return."

"What is it you expect to hear?"

Dumbledore straightened. "That Jorkins is dead, probably at the hands of either Pettigrew or Voldemort." He turned wearily to face Snape. "I have a contact in the Albanian MLE, or at least their equivalent of it. They were able to alert me before the rest of their department moved in to smother the situation." He walked slowly over to his desk, one hand tapping its fingers on his chest. "I can't imagine that the Albanian ministry would be happy to discover that the greatest threat to wizardkind... possibly humankind as well... has been murdering innocent people within their borders. Or our ministry either, for that matter." He sat down rather heavily into his chair, eyes lost in thought.

The room fell into a silence, broken only by the faint snoring coming from the paintings on the walls. Snape was certain that the inhabitants of those portraits were feigning sleep. He was never comfortable with them lurking in their frames like vultures waiting to feed on the scraps of current events. Who knew what they really thought, whom else they spoke to, or what they got up to in their two-dimensional world? It was that distrust which prevented him from having portraits in his own rooms. He didn't need them leering and criticising his every move. Plus, he didn't have any portraits of people he cared enough about to put up with their constant gawking.

Dumbledore had seemed only mildly interested in what Lucius Malfoy had told Snape earlier. It merely confirmed his suspicion that the Death Eaters knew that something was afoot, but were unable to base any course of action on the pain emanating from the Dark Mark. Snape had been adamant that it was not a summons. There was no pull to the pain, no focus or direction, and the fact that Malfoy had been prodding Snape for information suggested that he was in just as much doubt as to what it meant. Obviously, with the recent alleged sightings of Pettigrew in Albania, it reinforced the possibility that the Dark Lord had not only returned, but was growing stronger. The question was, was Voldemort deliberately signalling his return to his followers, or was it something unintentional?

The Headmaster had been a lot more concerned with the fact that Malfoy had intimated he knew of Parr's presence at the school. He'd fixed a very sharp gaze on Snape and asked how this particular topic of conversation had arisen.

"Of Malfoy's own volition, Headmaster," Snape had replied innocently.

"Hmm." Dumbledore continued to stare at him for some moments as if testing the veracity of the reply. The older man was one of the most adept Legilimens alive, perhaps even stronger in the talent than Voldemort, but unlike the Dark Lord, Dumbledore didn't use the ability like a bludgeon. His use of it was often so subtle that it was difficult to detect even by someone expecting its use. It was that realisation some years ago that had made Snape wary of ever lying outright to Dumbledore, instead favouring to withhold information if it were ever necessary to keep the truth from the Headmaster.

"I trust you realise that Chara is not to attract attention outside of the school, Severus," Dumbledore mentioned shrewdly, tapping the arm of his chair with his index finger.

"I had surmised that to be the case, Headmaster," Snape replied with a faint air of feigned disinterest. He dreaded to think what Dumbledore's reaction would be if he learned that Snape had been actively poking about for information on Parr. No doubt it would result in a rare, albeit rather frightening display of anger that Snape was not keen to experience again.

"Well, no doubt Lucius has heard something of Chara from Draco. Oh, yes, I'm fully aware of the nature of their altercation in your class two months back, Severus," he added, noting the change in Snape's expression. "Chara felt it necessary to tell me, although I have made it clear to her that unless you feel it important to inform me, such matters remain in your purview." He sighed and rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. "However, I suspect it more likely that Lucius has been receiving information from someone of the board of governors--I've had my suspicions about Levitin for some time." He dropped his hand from his face. "I realise there is little left of the night, but perhaps you can still salvage something of it. I do appreciate the fact that you've given up half of your weekend, Severus."

No doubt it'll end up being the entire weekend, Snape thought irritably as he turned to leave the Headmaster's study.

"Incidentally, have you spoken to Alastor recently?" Dumbledore called after him, stopping him some distance short of the door. Snape did his best to hold his temper in check as he turned to face Dumbledore again.

"As you are aware, Headmaster, Moody and I do not get along," he said flatly, trying not to scowl. "Interactions between us are... fractious at best. I do not engage him in conversation, or he I."

"Hmm," said Dumbledore. The old man looked distracted.

"Was there something specific you wanted to know?" Snape asked reluctantly.

Dumbledore appeared to consider this momentarily with a slightly worried expression before dismissing it with a gentle wave of his hand. "It is of no moment," he replied lightly. "Sleep well."

Snape nearly pulled a face at that and tried not to stalk frostily out of the door.

Sleep well?

Snape couldn't remember the last time he did that. He was lucky to get more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep at any one time. He did, ever so briefly, consider trying to find that hour before sunrise, but it seemed pointless. He'd only wake feeling like a troll had stomped on his head and with his stomach in an indigestion-induced knot. Besides, he had other things to attend to first.

~*~

The library refused to yield any of the information he was searching for. Snape had spent some time checking through the more likely sources, thankful that the early hour meant that there was no-one else awake yet, let alone using the library as well. Knowing the contents of his own literature back to front, he'd hoped that the school's collection might have been of assistance where his own had failed. It was likely that Madam Pince's encyclopaedic knowledge could have steered him in the right direction, but as her involvement in the search would be unwise, he had to search unaided.

Snape had been half-heartedly flicking through a tome on theriomorphs, trying desperately to ignore the insistent hunger gnawing a hole through his stomach, when he heard a faint tapping sound coming from one of the windows. The silhouette standing on the ledge turned out to be a rather cantankerous-looking tufted owl scrabbling impatiently at the glass pane. The little bib of white feathers gave it away as one of Kettering's owls, which meant that Trint had sent a message.

Snape opened the window and let the owl flutter into the library in a cloud of bird dust. It slipped about on the back of a chair while trying to stick its leg out at him, keen to get its message delivered so it could be given the treat it expected. This particular bird was well aware of what Snape kept in his pocket for Kettering's message owls, and it tended to be rather pushy in its enthusiasm. It fidgeting about as the scroll was being untied, like a child with a burr in its underpants. Its amber eyes tracked Snape's hand closely as he fished out a hand's length of string from his pocket and Transfigured it back to its original form. The mouse twisted futilely, its tail trapped firmly between Snape's fingers, its beady little eyes wide at the sight of the owl. There was barely enough time for the mouse to let out a despairing squeak before the owl lunged greedily for it and sailed out of the open window to enjoy its reward at its leisure somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.

The message was short. It didn't need to be any longer than what was scratched on the parchment: a three, with a line crossing diagonally through it.

What Dumbledore had suspected was true: Jorkins was dead.

~*~

It turned out he wasn't the only person on their way to see the Headmaster. Rounding the corner of the corridor, Snape saw Lupin and Parr heading towards the stone gargoyle guarding the staircase that led to Dumbledore's study. Even in the dim light, he could see that Lupin looked like he was in some degree of shock, and although it was a bit hard to tell due to the angle, he guessed that Parr had a hold of Lupin's coat in the middle of his back to prevent him from slumping to the floor. The werewolf's face was as white as a face could possibly go without being made of alabaster, and there were charcoal coloured circles under his eyes. In contrast, Parr had a flush of colour in her face that enhanced the angry set to her features and a small nick down the side of her nose that, whilst not large, appeared deep. Both of them paused at the sight of Snape, although it was dubious as to whether Lupin actually registered anything, judging from the blank and unfocused look in his eyes. Parr bent down and whispered something in Lupin's ear, turning him to face the gargoyle. The man must have had enough awareness to recall the password, for they gained access to the staircase before Snape reached them. He reached the top of the stairs just as the door to the Headmaster's study closed behind Lupin... with Parr standing resolutely in front of it, effectively blocking Snape's attempt to follow him in.

"First come, first served, Professor," Parr stated firmly, squinting down at him from her full and imposing height. "You'll have to wait your turn, I'm afraid."

"Have you been employed as a bouncer, Miss Parr?" Snape asked, trying not to lean backwards as he looked her in the eye. "The Headmaster has never required one before, and I seriously doubt he requires one now. If you'll stand aside and stop wasting my time..." He tried to shoulder around her, but she moved to block him again.

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

Parr pointed at her mouth. "Watch my lips: no. You will wait." With that, she fixed her gaze on the opposite wall and ignored him.

"Miss Parr, if you don't get out of my way, I will be forced to physically move you aside," Snape pointed out with a bravado he wasn't feeling, but he was going to be damned if he let her cow him again.

"I think we both know who would come off the worse, Professor," Parr grated, eyes still fixed on the wall.

Before he'd even got the wand fully out of his pocket, Parr had grabbed hold of it and lobbed it down the stairwell without even shifting the focus of her eyes.

"Next time, I'll clean your ears out with it," she promised.

Snape clenched his teeth to splintering point and considered the possibility of moving her with wandless magic. He formed the words in his mind to deliver something with a sting in its tail when Parr's nostrils flared.

"Don't even think about it, Professor," she warned, eyes flinty and lips thinned.

"Are you a Legilimens?" Snape asked bluntly.

Parr's mouth formed a moue as she thought about his question. "I find that remark... insulting." She blinked and fixed him with an emerald glare down her bowed nose.

"I fail to see what in the question could be considered as rude, Miss Parr. Being the queen of politeness, perhaps you can enlighten me."

Parr's eyebrows climbed slightly, giving her a faintly surprised expression.

"At first, I didn't realise you were being rude through ignorance," she sighed, with a small shake of her head. "Now, I'm starting to think it's some perverse family humour that I can't follow. Your colleagues must have saintly patience," she added drily. "It takes years of practice to act like a cantankerous old shit so flawlessly."

"The enormity of your hypocrisy obviously escapes you," Snape retorted venomously. "And you still haven't answered my question."

"No, I haven't," she agreed lightly. "How frustrating for you." She peered at him curiously, clearly waiting to see what he would do in response.

Snape's mouth compressed into a line of irritation. "What's wrong with Lupin? He looked like he'd had the blood leached out of him. Did you treat him to one of your spectacular displays of manners and deportment?"

Parr gave him a withering look. "Very droll. Been practising that line, have you?"

Snape stared back at her flatly, desperately suppressing the childish urge to punch her. Parr stared back just as emotionlessly.

"Are you going to fetch your stick, Professor?" she asked innocently.

Fortunately, the door opened before Snape had the chance to finish casting a particularly vicious hex on Parr. Lupin wobbled out, looking like he'd been stuffed in a troll's trousers for a week.

"Ah, Severus, sorry to keep you waiting," Lupin slurred, bleary-eyed. "I think Dumbledore said you can go in now." He weaved off down the hallway towards the stairs with Parr firmly holding him up by a fistful of coat.

Snape stared after them as his wand was tossed back up the stairs, landing right next to his foot with a clatter.