Taking Care of Business

Secret keeper? Letter? Dumbledore? What on earth was Remus going on about? I look to Snape, who seems so frail against the stark white sheets, and feel my stomach flutter again with worry. It's a familiar feeling - I've been having it for two days, ever since I thought he'd died. At first I assumed it was mere guilt, for not being able to take care of him as Dumbledore wished, but after the first day, that feeling subsided, and then morphed into something else. Something I didn't know how to deal with.

Forty-eight hours of staring at a man you previously hated, wondering whether or not he's going to live, is enough to make anyone reevaluate their feelings. Unfortunately, I still hadn't come to any conclusions, except that I was really, really pissed off. Which was, of course, when Snape chose to rejoin the land of the living.

I still expect him to give me detention for the rest of my natural life, once all the things I said to him have a chance to sink in, but I don't much care. I've been scared shitless for two days because of him, and he's lucky I didn't say everything that was on my mind.

I put aside these thoughts and focus on Remus, who is looking rather uncomfortable. Snape is grumbling softly to himself, muttering something about candy shoppes and clouds. I sigh loudly.

"Is anyone going to bother telling me what is going on?"

"No," Snape says flatly, and I turn a scowl on him that would rival any of his own.

"Listen, I know this has something to do with me..."

"Oh, is that so?" Snape sneers, curling his lip. Funny, it doesn't seem quite as frightening as it used to. At least, not when he's lying in a hospital bed, wearing a open-backed (I'm assuming, of course) gown, and his inky black hair is looking decidedly ruffled. I feel my mouth stretch in a grin, and I hurriedly wipe it away. Snape's sneer, if possible, deepens.

"You think everything revolves around you, don't you Potter? Well, let me just make one thing perfectly clear: your celebrity holds no water with me. You will receive no special treatment from me simply because you're alive. Is that understood?"

"Perfectly sir," I say airily. I turn to the werewolf, who is shifting uncomfortably behind me. Typically I hate playing the 'surrogate-godson' card, but what the hell - it works.

"Care to enlighten me, Remus?" I say, using his given name on purpose. His amber eyes widen a bit, and he looks from Snape and back to me as though considering.

"Don't you dare," Snape growls. I shoot him a dirty look over my shoulder and turn pleading eyes back to Remus.

"Well," he says uncertainly, tugging at his collar, "he does have a right to know, Severus."

"Like hell," Snape spits out. "It's none of his bloody business."

"If it has anything whatsoever to with me," I ground out testily, "then it damn well is my business."

"Harry," Remus says reprovingly, just as Snape hisses, "Potter..."

"Oh, for god's sake," I yell, throwing my hands into the air. "Just forget it! Hey, maybe I'll go count the tiles on the ceiling until I go mad, just like Sirius."

"Harry," Remus says again, and his voice holds a dangerous warning. Well, I had intended for the words to sting. "That's not fair," he continues, and I feel a wave of guilt crash over me at the way his words quaver the slightest bit.

"Life's not fair, Remus," I say in retaliation. "Merlin knows mine certainly isn't."

"Oh, spare us, Potter," Snape says, sounding bored with the entire conversation. "No one cares to hear your 'poor, abused, boy-savior' lament. Or didn't you realize it's been done before? Your lack of originality is appalling."

"Fine," I say from between gritted teeth. "Ickle Harry will piss off now and go suck his thumb while the big, smart adults deal with all the shit he's too stupid to handle himself!"

"Brilliant idea," Snape says, and it occurs to me that I've never wanted to physically harm someone as much as I do him at this moment. Not even Malfoy. Not even Voldemort. Well, a slight exaggeration, perhaps...

"Now be a good little boy and piss off as promised. Oh, and you may want to get some help for that thumb-sucking problem; I hear St. Mungo's has some wonderful counselors."

Scratch that. Let's just say in a direct confrontation between Snape and Voldemort, I would not be cheering for the home team.

I give Snape my best glare (which isn't terribly impressive, but has improved a good deal since fifth year) and slam through the door. Once I reach the relative calm of the hallway, I sit down heavily on the floor and try to control my surging emotions. I pull out the extendable ears I keep with me at all times and pop them in.

"... can't expect him to react well when you speak to him like that," Remus is saying. I smirk. At least there's still someone around to take up for me.

"The little bugger has no respect for his elders." Snape, of course. Well, we'll just see what Remus has to say about that.

"I agree."

Bollocks.

"But... I can't see that he's been given much opportunity to exercise any respect, when there are some people who simply don't wish to earn it."

Score one for the werewolf.

"Bravo, Lupin. A stunning observation. Naturally, you are correct." I can't miss the sarcasm dripping from his voice, and I doubt Remus can, either. "I have absolutely no desire for the little whelp's respect."

There is a momentary pause, and then: "You antagonize him on purpose, don't you?" Remus says, sudden understanding vibrating in his voice.

Another pause. I wish desperately I could see the looks the two of them are exchanging.

"I do no such thing," Snape says, but the words lack conviction. Am I hearing this correctly? Snape actually wants me to hate him? Someone needs to back up the Hogwarts Express, because I'm a bit confused.

"No surprise there," Snape says, and I start, thinking he's read my mind.

"Actually, it is a bit surprising," Remus replies. Damn! What did I miss? "You truly think it's for the best if Harry despises you?"

"Of course it is," Snape snaps. "It will only make the entire situation more difficult if he develops a... fondness... for me." He says the word 'fondness' as though it tastes foul in his mouth, which, if he's using it regarding me, I imagine it does. I frown, angry that they think me too immature to decide who I am or am not fond of.

Then my brain catches up with the conversation, and I realize what Snape has admitted. He's been a right bastard to me all these years... on purpose? I'm not sure whether to be touched that he's done it for my own good, or to think he's an even greater git. Right now, I'll settle for the latter.

"He'll have to be present for the ceremony," Remus says, apparently changing subjects.

"No," Snaps replies stubbornly.

"Severus..."

"NO!"

There is another pause, longer this time, and I realize I'm holding my breath. I let it out in a whoosh and blink my eyes at the sudden dizziness.

"He has been through far too much, especially for a boy... for someone... his age." The voice is Snape's, but the words are spoken in a tone gentler than I've ever heard him use. And no wonder - the whole of Gryffindor would have ended up in the hospital wing in terminal shock had they heard nasty, greasy Snape speak like that.

"I know," Remus says, so softly I can barely hear him. "But he's an adult now, Severus, or nearly. He has a right to know things which will affect him. And this most certainly will."

I hear a sigh, and though it doesn't sound like Remus, I can't imagine the other occupant of the room uttering a sound so plaintive... almost... wistful. No. It must have been Remus. Obviously.

"And just how do you think he'll react to this, after... Albus?" Snape again, and again, he's using that softer, quieter tone. It's... creepy. Or at least, it must be, to make me shiver so.

The voice continues. "He's been uprooted far too many times, Lupin. Can you imagine his response when he discovers that at the first sign of Voldemort, he will be whisked away to a secret location he knows not, no friends, no school, with me as his sole source of companionship?"

My brows furrow. What are they talking about? A secret location? It would make sense then, Remus saying he's Snape's secret keeper. And mine as well, I suppose. I think I ought to be put out at Snape's insistence that this be kept from me, but a part of me knows he was right - I wouldn't have reacted well. I'm still not sure how to feel, now that I know. I don't want to run from Voldemort, like a coward, especially if he comes after me at Hogwarts. I could never leave Ron and Hermione and all the others to fend for themselves!

I feel indignation flame within me, and I begin to rise, with the intent of marching back into the hospital wing and demanding to know the full story. Before I can move though, an intense chill takes hold of me, and I shudder as a trail of ice creeps up my spine.

I look up, and am certain my heart has stopped beating in my chest. There, shimmering in front of me like moonlight reflecting on the surface of a pond, is Albus Dumbledore.

"I... you... but... you're," I sputter, blinking rapidly and wondering if I've finally gone nutters. The headmaster's form wavers a bit, like steam rising from the pavement on a hot day. The reality hits me in the stomach like a physical blow. He's a ghost.

"You're a ghost," I say dumbly. He says nothing, but he positively twinkles. The bastard actually twinkles. I think I probably ought to feel something besides vague amusement at this, but my brain is too befuddled to process anything beyond surprise and a faint sense of alright-ness in the universe.

"Holy fuck," I mutter, shaking my head, bewildered. "Erm, sorry." The twinkle, if anything, broadens. I'm tempted to roll my eyes. "Right. Uh... should I fetch Snape or something?" I'm not sure why my first inclination is to inform Snape, but the headmaster shakes his head, and I let out a relieved breath. "Okay... so... not to be disrespectful, sir, but... why are you here?"

Dumbledore grins, and inclines his head ever-so-slightly toward the infirmary door. Though he doesn't say a word, I somehow understand his meaning. I sigh, pushing a hand through my hair and then tugging on my ear, which is an annoying habit I've developed whenever I'm thinking something through.

"I'll try to be understanding," I say, and I know he gets my meaning. "It's hard though, you know?" Well, of course he does. The man knows everything... knew everything... still does... oh, hell, what does it matter? Even in death he has the infuriating ability to know my thoughts even before I think them.

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but I know it involves myself and Snape, and Voldemort too." The ghost nods, so I go on. "He's going to be... taking care of me, isn't he?" Take care of him. Interesting choice of words, I think, and shiver slightly. That is definitely a smile stretching Dumbledore's ethereal face, and I take it as a yes.

"I'll do my best. I promise you that. I'll try as hard as I can to get along with him." If he doesn't kill me in the process... "And I promise I'll try..." A lump rises in my throat, and I attempt to swallow it down. "I'll try to... take care of him, as well."

Dumbledore nods, looking satisfied, and a bit sad. I want to ask him how he became a ghost, if he'll be around, how I can contact him again should I need to - but the door creaks open behind me, and I whirl around to see Remus's concerned face peeking out.

"Harry? You alright?"

I nod, whipping the extendable ears behind my back. "Fine... I just..."

"I thought I heard voices."

I turn back, hoping to see Dumbledore's glimmering form, but the hallway is deserted. Of course. Tricky old bugger.

"Nope,"I say with a grin, hoping Remus buys it. "Just me."

He looks skeptical, but says nothing of it. "Well, it's good you're still out here anyway. Come on in, we need to talk to you."

A sense of foreboding fills me, but it is tempered by a sudden swelling of peacefulness, and I smile genuinely, walking through the door.

Snape is still in the bed, but he is sitting up fully, leaning against the headboard and looking quite sulky. I try to will the grin off my face, hoping I look meek and respectful instead.

"Wipe that silly smirk off your face, Potter, and come over here."

Well, so much for that.

"Yes sir," I say quietly, and move to stand beside his bed. I keep my eyes trained on the floor, not daring to look at his face.

"Though it is against my better judgement to inform you of this so soon, your godfather-by-proxy feels it is in your best interest that you are made aware of the current situation."

"And what situation is that, sir?"

"I will not tolerate your insolence, Potter!"

"Sorry, sir. I wasn't trying to be insolent." I really wasn't. Well, not too much.

"Right," he mutters. "I received a message from Dumbledore two days ago."

I look up, startled. Has Dumbledore's ghost been to see him as well?

"I was sent a letter from the headmaster, to be read posthumously - that means after his death," he adds in a patronizing tone, mistaking my bemused expression.

"I know what it means!" I snap, glaring at him.

"If I may continue, Mr. Potter," he says through clenched teeth.

"Whatever," I mutter, biting my lip to keep from saying what I truly want to.

Snape rolls his eyes heavenward and takes a breath before continuing. "As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," - he shoots me a sharp glance when I snort, but says nothing of it - "I was sent a letter that the headmaster wrote before his... passing. He wanted to ensure your safety, should Voldemort plan an attack before you are properly trained to face him. There is a house, in a very secret and protected location outside London, where you will remain relatively safe until you are prepared to meet him." Snape pauses for a moment, as though debating whether or not to finish. Finally, with an angry glance at Remus, he continues. "Should circumstances require that you be taken to the house, I will accompany you, at which point I will be responsible for the continuation of your training. As you are already aware, Lupin has been appointed our secret keeper."

I think I ought to put up a fuss, just for show, but I can't muster the energy. Instead, I nod wearily and say, "What about everyone else who's left here? If he attacks Hogwarts, what will happen to the students and professors? What about Ron and Hermione - can they know where I've gone?"

Snape arches an eyebrow, surprised at my lack of protest. He seems at a loss, and glances at Remus, who also looks as though he'd been expecting World War III.

"Well, Harry," Remus says, amber eyes looking at me seriously. I feel a momentary rush of affection for the werewolf, who has never condescended to me simply because I'm young, the way the others have. I give him a grateful smile, and though he doesn't return it, his eyes lighten somewhat, the golden specks glinting in the bright sunlight. It strikes me then that he's rather handsome.

Well, that certainly came out of left field.

A hot blush races up my neck, burning my cheeks fiercely. Remus, who has stopped speaking, looks at me curiously. "All right, Harry?" he asks, brows furrowing in concern. I feel another rush of heat, this time in an area a good bit south of my face, and I turn away awkwardly.

I damn Voldemort yet again. I've been so focused on fighting him that I've neglected the typical teenage hormones (except for that ill-fated interlude with Cho Chang in fifth year). What a time for them to reassert themselves!

"I'm fine," I croak, cursing myself for opting for Muggle jeans that morning. Fortunately, I'm still wearing some of Dudley's castoffs, and though I've filled out a bit, they're still approximately fourteen sizes too large.

I catch the quizzical glance Remus gives Snape out of the corner of my eye, and I let out a sigh of relief when he shrugs and continues.

"We believe that Voldemort has not yet acquired the resources to launch a full-scale attack on Hogwarts. If he were to try something, it would most likely be a kidnapping attempt. None of the professors know about the house, or about Snape's involvement, but they are aware of the possible threat to your safety."

"So what will you tell them when Snape - excuse me, Professor Snape - and I just go missing one day?" I ask, forgetting my discomfort as my mind fills with a thousand questions.

"If that should occur," Snape says, drawing my attention - thankfully - from Remus, "they will be informed that you have been removed from the school for your own safety, though they will not know where. As Lupin is already in hiding from the Ministry, they will be told that you have been placed in his care." He pauses for a moment, looking down at his hands, which are twisted in his lap, pale even against the blinding white sheets. "Your removal from Hogwarts will coincide with my defection to the Dark Lord."

"What?" I cry sharply, and then suck in a breath, surprised at my own outburst.

Snape is surprised as well, but he recovers quickly and gives me a disgusted sneer.

"Don't worry, Potter. It's only a cover. Though the thought of sharing a living space with you for an indeterminate period of time makes me shudder, it is not quite enough to drive me back into Voldemort's arms."

"I know that," I retort, an angry flush staining my cheeks. I am surprised to realize that the anger is not directed toward Snape, but rather is felt on his behalf. "But then everyone will think you've... that you're..."

"A traitor, Potter. Yes, well, it wouldn't be the first time, would it?" Snape says bitterly.

"But that's not..."

"Fair? Things seldom are, Potter. And where Voldemort - and you, I might mention - are concerned, it seems nothing is."

"We need a plausible story, Harry," Remus says to placate me. "This way, Professor Snape can continue to spy, without arousing suspicion amongst the death eaters."

"But what good will spying do if the Order and the Ministry and everyone else thinks he's stuck up Voldemort's arse?"

I half-expect one of them to admonish me for my language, but Snape merely grimaces, and Remus looks sad.

"Severus will be relaying any useful information to me, and I will then deliver it to the Order. I will also be keeping them updated as to your health and safety."

"And just where will you tell them you've gotten all this inside information?" I ask, struggling to understand just how this brilliant plan is going to work.

Remus looks down at his badly-scuffed shoes and clears his throat uncomfortably. When he speaks, his voice is so low it is almost imperceptible.

"I too will be serving as a spy among Voldemort's ranks."

"ARE YOU INSANE?" I shout as a wave of fear and rage stabs though my soul. Remus looks up at me, surprised by my outburst. I am trembling, my hands clenched into tight balls at my side. The sun slips behind a cloud, and the room is plunged into shadows, matching my mood. "You'll be killed," I whisper, willing myself not to cry. "They'll never believe you, and you'll be killed. I've already lost Sirius, and now I'm going to lose you as well."

Remus swallows with some difficulty, and opens his mouth to speak. Nothing comes out.

"Your concern is touching, Mr. Potter," Snape says from his bed, and I'm tempted to march over there and punch him right in his enormous, beaky nose. "However," he goes on, before I can even move, "Voldemort is not quite so clever as some give him credit for. The lure of having a dark creature, especially a werewolf, of above-average intelligence, who is also a respected member of the Order and can give him inside information, is too much for him to resist. If Lupin is convincing, he will have no problem being accepted into the fold. Once there, he will be invaluable in aiding the Order, and in saving your own hide, might I add."

"And I promise you, Harry," Remus says, finding his voice, "I will not intentionally put myself in harm's way, if it can be at all avoided. I've no desire to leave this world... or you... for a very long time."

His words send a golden glow coursing through my veins, and I shiver at the sudden warmth. With a shy smile - which I'll be properly embarrassed about later - I thank him, and try not to stammer like a complete fool when he envelops me in a reassuring hug.

"Right," Snape says, when Remus finally pulls away. "Now that that completely unnecessary display of affection is over, could we be getting on with the secret-keeper ceremony? I've no desire to remain in this bed for the rest of my teaching career."

"Of course, Severus," Remus says, and I notice that his cheeks are a bit pink. My pulse quickens, and I think I would laugh at myself, if the circumstances weren't such as they are.

Remus ushers me toward Snape's bed, and I stand beside him at the headboard. Remus takes out his wand and pulls something out of his robe pocket. Whatever it is, it glitters faintly in the dim light.

"Severus, would you like to stand?" Remus asks, and I turn just in time to see a flush creep up Snape's neck.

"I think not, Lupin," he says, tossing his hair in what I reckon is supposed to be a dignified manner. He says nothing more, but I surmise my earlier suspicion about an open-backed gown is correct.

Hiding a grin, I look back to Remus, who is reading carefully over a piece of parchment.

"Right. Well, if you'll both hold out your arms, we'll get started."

I dutifully raise my left arm, and Snape raises his right. "You'll need to be a bit closer," Remus says, gesturing with his wand. Snape scowls as I step toward him, and I almost cringe when our bare wrists brush, but I grit my teeth and concentrate on remaining stock-still. Remus waves his wand a few times and mutters something in Latin. I gasp when I feel something like silk slide over my wrist, binding it to Snape's. The tie is just restricting enough to be uncomfortable, though it feels pleasantly cool against my skin. I try not to think about Snape's pulse beating in time with my own, or the way his skin is so much warmer than I would have expected.

Remus steps up in front of us and places his hand over the binding. It stretches and twists to encircle his wrist as well, and I note how cool his skin seems in comparison with Snape's. Someone's pulse is pounding a mile-a-minute, though I can't be sure whose it is. I'm afraid it's mine, but I force myself to appear unaffected, and I smile up at Remus who glances away quickly.

He clears his throat and begins to speak in a low voice. "I, Remus Jonathon Lupin, hereby pledge myself as secret-keeper to Severus Aloysius Snape and Harry James Potter. This pledge is binding from this moment, until the time it becomes no longer necessary. Should I break this pledge, I am prepared to suffer the consequences, as determined by Mr. Snape and Mr. Potter. This pledge is hereafter legal and binding. Severus Snape, do you agree to the terms of this pledge?"

"I do," Snape says beside me.

"Harry Potter, do you also agree to the terms of this pledge?"

"I do," I say, looking over at Snape, who is watching me curiously. I look quickly away and direct my gaze at Remus, who is making a strange movement with his wand.

"Then Severus Snape, Harry Potter, I am heretofore in your service as secret-keeper, so long as I am required to be so." The ties around our wrists slither away, and I flex my hand, which has begun to go numb.

"Hold out your hands," Remus says, and I immediately obey. He drops a small metallic object into my palm, and then into Snape's. Mine appears to be an antique silver brooch, in the shape of a serpent. I stare at it, transfixed, for a long moment, as it seems to slither against my skin. I then look curiously over to the object in Snape's hand and stifle a grin when I see it is also a brooch, in the shape of a golden lion. He sneers disdainfully at it, and then rolls his eyes at Remus.

"How fitting, Lupin," he says, and the werewolf merely smiles.

"These are your portkeys," Remus says, gesturing to the brooches. "As soon as Voldemort attacks, you are to use these to transport yourselves to the safehouse. To activate them, you must" - his words are cut off abruptly as a siren begins to blare, and the very walls of school seem to shake.

"What the..." I say, but I do not get an opportunity to finish my thought, as I am yanked unceremoniously onto Snape's bed. I realize with a faint flicker of disgust that I am practically on his lap, but all thoughts are pushed aside as Remus yells, "The wards!"

"Shite!" Snape hisses in my ear as he wraps an arm around me. "Potter, mind your portkey!" I look down and realize that I've dropped it on the ground. I bend over the bed to retrieve it, and then look up to Remus, who is watching me with frightened eyes.

"You must go," he says urgently.

"What? Now? But how..."

"Shut up, Potter! Lupin, the activation word! What is it?"

A mighty roar sounds around us, and I can see Remus shouting, but I can't make out the words.

"What?" I say hysterically, clutching the brooch until it bites painfully into my skin.

"CONFLAGRATE!" I dimly remember the fire-starting spell from fifth year, and nod my understanding to Remus. "Hurry!" he shouts, brandishing his wand and running for the door. "I'll reinforce the wards on the hospital wing, but I don't know how long I can hold them!"

I want to tell him goodbye, tell him I'll miss him, tell him all the things I should have said to Sirius the last time I saw him, but trying to be heard over all the noise would be futile, and besides, saying it out loud would make it all too real. Instead, I give him a weak smile, and hope he knows how much I care about him.

I turn then to Snape, expecting a scowl, but all I see is worry and a sense of urgency burning in his black eyes. "On three," he says, gesturing with his portkey. I nod, watching his lips as they form the words... one... two... "Three!"

"CONFLAGRATE!" we shout together. I feel the familiar wrenching behind my navel, and have a brief lucid moment of thankfulness that I hadn't eaten yet that day. Darkness rushes up to meet me, and I fall into it, Snape's grip on my shoulder the only thing to remind me that I'm not alone, and that the darkness is not absolute.