Be All My Secrets Remembered

Interlude: Mea Culpa

November 1981

The celebrations would go on for days, weeks on end perhaps. Nobody would begrudge the victors their cheers or the dead their glory. All the plans were in order, all the pieces in place. It was now time to wait.

Albus Perceval Wulfric Brian Dumbledore leant against the door to his office and closed his eyes. He could feel the tears pricking, but they stayed firmly shuttered against everything that roiled within.

Everyone makes mistakes, Albus. The trick is not to compound them. Heinrich's voice echoed so loudly within his brain that he opened his eyes, expecting to see his former colleague standing in front of him. As he had just four years before. He will not understand your reasoning. Whether or not you like to admit it, you favour the Gryffindors over the Slytherins and you always have.

"Ah Heinrich," he sighed. "I should have listened to you."

Too many of his sentences these days began with 'if only', too many included the words 'should have' or 'should not have'. If only he had insisted upon being the Potters' Secret-Keeper. He should have known better. If only he had seen the road Sirius Black had chosen for himself. He should not have let him off so easily. If only he had not alienated Severus Snape...

One stupid decision, and the whole world is changed.

If only he'd been more careful with Tom. Guided him. Kept him from the hate that brewed within and festered. But would Tom have listened? He didn't know.

And yet he had been so sure of Sirius. Of his love for James and Lily and the baby. He had been so sure that the goodness he had seen in the young man, a flame where his father had possessed mere sparks, would outweigh the darkness. And he had acted upon that certainty.

("The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are--are--that they're--")

He had not been able to say the word, didn't want to believe it. Lily and James had survived Tom not once, but three times before. And their Secret-Keeper...Sirius Black would have sooner died himself than betray them. He had known. He had been so very sure.

Pride cometh before a fall. One of the Deadly Sins, Albus, and the only one that ever suited you.

At least the child was safe. He could still see his eyes now, the colour of the evergreens beside the lake, and when he saw them, he could hear the mother's laughter. His mind's eye conjured her face, and beside her, James, but the image did not match the sound. The two of them, side by side, in that tiny cemetery in Cambridge where they had buried Dorcas Meadowes, Lily's fingers splayed across her stomach as if the baby were still there, still protected, though he had been born some six months earlier.

Lily's words, stained with bitter knowledge, "She used to talk about how she knew she would die young. She never saw herself with children, or growing old, she just...didn't. It's why she loved Sirius, you know. Because he never made her think of those things."

Sirius had been there as well, standing soldier-straight, his red-rimmed, hollowed eyes fixed unrelentingly on the open grave. Now, looking back, he had seen it before. A man staring into the abyss. Tom. He should have thought of it then, but he had returned from the funeral to find Severus Snape in his office, the same horror stamped across his face, and he had forgotten.

(Misericorde for a damned man, Headmaster?)

Not just you, Severus. There is blood on my hands that shan't be washed away. All in the name of my own short-sightedness.

If only, if only, if only...

Fawkes settled on his shoulder with a reassuring flutter of feathers at his ear. Phoenix tears, they say, heal all wounds. Dumbledore almost smiled, wearily.

"There are few things more dangerous, Fawkes, than a man who believes he has seen it all. You must remind me of that when the time comes."

Chapter Fifteen: Facilis Descensus Averni

6 March 1977

She had not thought it possible that Severus Snape could look paler than he normally did, but his face all but matched the bleached white pillow beneath his head. Lily shuddered, glancing around the empty Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey had hurried off to fetch some more herbs and left her to sit by the sleeping patient.

It had been Peter Pettigrew who spilled the first garbled version of the story to her that morning in the Gryffindor Common Room. Something about Sirius trying to feed Snape to Remus; almost incomprehensible, but enough to fill Lily with all manner of dread. And so she had come to the Hospital Wing, where her fears were immediately realised by the presence of Severus Snape, unconscious on a bed. After that, her only departure had been to fetch parchment and her unfinished Potions essay, to keep her occupied.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs outside the door to the Hospital Wing, and Lily froze, unable to decide whether or not she wanted to make her presence known. It proved to be a moot point, as the visitor was James Potter.

"How is he?" There was genuine agitation in his voice, and while he had obviously changed clothing between the two nights, the strain still showed in the dark circles beneath his eyes.

"How do you think?" she snapped in response. "I don't know what you did to him, Potter, but I hope you're satisfied."

He didn't answer at first, merely leaned against the doorframe and closed his eyes, looking unaccountably tired. "I don't suppose you'd believe me if I tried to explain, would you?"

"Why don't you try, at least? You have to make more sense than Peter did." Lily turned back to the prone figure on the bed.

"Snape found the passage beneath the Whomping Willow. Padfoot told him where it was and how to use it." James now leant against the window, as though he were too tired to stand upright.

Only at this distance did Lily notice the scars covering his hands. "My God, what happened to you?"

"Wormtail told me what happened after he found out what Padfoot had done. We managed to get Snape out of the tunnel, only barely. Moony..." he shuddered, "...he'd smelled a human already. He nearly had us all until Padfoot distracted him."

Lily could only stare for several seconds. "You saved him."

"Hardly. He'd never have been in there in the first place if it hadn't been for Padfoot. Merlin only knows why he did it. I certainly don't and he won't tell me anything. But there's more to it than meets the eye. I know it." He reached up to rake one hand through his hair, the movement far too jerky to even resemble the gesture she'd so often found annoying. "You aren't part of this. He might tell you something he won't tell us."

"I can't imagine why he'd do that," Lily argued. "When will you boys learn that there's a limit to pranking?"

"You think this was a prank?" James stared at her, genuinely horrified. "Even Padfoot isn't that much of a nutter. He'd not risk exposing Moony because he thought it'd be funny to see Snape meet a werewolf."

"I sometimes wonder..." She trailed off, looking at Snape again.

James shook his head. "It's not possible. I know there's more to it. There has to be."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because I've known Padfoot six years. Because he's my best friend, practically my brother. And I know he'd never want to hurt Moony like that. It's got nothing to do with Snape."

"Snape's as much of a human being as you are." Lily stood so she could speak to him without craning her neck. "You saved his life, James. Don't cheapen that."

James turned his head to look down at Snape's still face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then peered back at Lily, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "Do you realise what you just called me?"

"What?"

"You've never called me by name before," he clarified. "You called me James."

Lily blinked, startled. "So I did. What of it?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly, turning back to the bed. "Will you talk to Padfoot?"

"I'll...I will, but not tonight if that's alright. I don't think it would be good for either of us if I tried just yet." She sat back down. "Can you try again, maybe? And if it doesn't work, I'll talk to him tomorrow night."

At that, he cracked something vaguely resembling a smile. "Thanks, E...Lily."

She kept her eyes firmly fixed on Snape, fighting the unaccountable urge to blush. "I've not done anything yet, but you're welcome nonetheless." He was still looking at her; she could feel it. "Just let me know before tomorrow night."

"I will." Taking the implied cue, he stepped back from the bed, toward the door. "You're planning to sleep, right? You probably should."

"You've got a good point. I'm just waiting for Madame Pomfrey to come back," she said, just as the woman in question stepped through the door.

"Mr Potter, are you quite alright?" enquired Madame Pomfrey, concern clouding her voice. "Tell me this isn't something new."

"Oh no, I was just here to see Sni---Snape," he corrected himself with barely a beat in between. "Is he going to wake up sometime soon?"

"The Headmaster had me keep him under sleeping draughts," she explained, "but the broken arm is nearly healed so he should be waking up sometime tomorrow. Poor boy's been through quite the ordeal." The somewhat pointed glance she threw his way implied a great deal more than her words did. "As has Remus."

James, to his credit, did not flinch. Lily took one last look at Snape before stepping away from the bed and gathering her things. "I think I should probably get to bed, Madame Pomfrey."

"Most assuredly, young lady. I was about to tell you to do precisely that. Both of you. You've got lessons in the morning after all."

They found themselves shooed through the door before either of them could argue.

***

The clock struck eleven as Lily entered the Gryffindor Common Room. James had pulled her aside after Defence Against the Dark Arts to relate his continued failure to get beyond Sirius' sullen silence. And as for the wizard in question, Sirius remained determinedly unreadable, avoiding all members of his own House to stick like a burr to Dorcas Meadowes' side, much to her admittedly flattered astonishment.

Thankfully, he appeared to be alone now. Dorcas had expressed curiosity and more than a little concern at dinner, and Lily could only promise that she'd do her best to explain once she had a better idea of what had happened. Now was her chance, she supposed. Now or never.

"Sirius?" she ventured.

He glanced up, his expression difficult to see in the lack of light. "Something the matter, Evans?"

Perhaps it was his determined nonchalance, or it may well have simply been the strain of the past two days all rising up to engulf her, but Lily broke. "Oh yes, something's the matter. Severus Snape is unconscious in the Hospital Wing, James Potter is covered in scratches, and I've heard all sorts of very bizarre stories about what on earth caused this state of affairs."

"Well, that's all terribly interesting," he replied with a shrug.

"Why did you do it? For God's sake, Sirius, you tried to kill him!" Lily's voice, hoarsened from exhaustion and fury, cracked. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking," he finally answered, eyes still firmly fixed upon the hearth, the last glowing embers as they sank into darkness. "Does that satisfy you?"

"No, it doesn't. There has to be more than that. You're not a murderer, Sirius. I will not believe that."

"Why not?" A flash of teeth followed the words, somewhere between a smile and a growl. "Everyone else does. Watch out for Sirius Black, he'll murder you in your sleep."

"Nobody knows what happened. Professor Dumbledore hasn't told anyone, neither has Madame Pomfrey. Remus is still..." she swallowed. "He has no idea, Sirius. Nobody's told him either."

"Well, I'm hardly clamouring for someone to tell him, am I? After all, I used him. 'Turned him into the murder weapon,' Prongs said. That's why he stopped me. It had nothing to do with Snivellus. Much good may it do him. Once Snivelly wakes up, he'll tell the whole world. Moony and I will both be expelled, and no doubt he'll never speak to me again." His voice was flat, emotionless. "But as I've often been told, it's no better than I deserve."

"Stop it!" Lily snapped. Startled, he finally glanced toward her. "Stop it now. Self-pity won't win you any sympathy from me, Sirius Black."

"I don't want your sympathy. Go sit by Snivellus, since it seems that's where you'd prefer to be anyway." He turned back to the hearth. "I know Prongs sent you. He thinks I'll tell you what I won't tell him."

"James did ask me to come, I won't lie. But he didn't send me. I came because he convinced me you needed someone. Sirius, please. I won't beg, but I will ask again. I know it was more than a prank, more than your usual playing around with Snape. James knows it too." Cautiously, she stepped closer. "Sirius, tell me why."

He closed his eyes and leant back against the cushions. Lily, against her better judgement, ventured to sit on the couch beside him. There were circles beneath his eyes, and when he opened them again, she could see they were bloodshot. His hands were covered in scratches, not unlike James's, and there was a bruise stamped on the side of his neck, mostly hidden by his hair, but visible when he turned.

"You've not slept," was all she could think to say.

"Of course I haven't. No rest for the wicked." She did not answer. "What, no rebuke? No sermon? No denunciation of my self-pity?"

"Wallow all you like, Sirius. I'll sit here until you feel ready to tell me."

The silence settled, surprisingly mild given the circumstances. Then, some moments later, Sirius began to speak.

"I saw him Thursday night in the Potions dungeon. I was looking for you and Wormtail mentioned you usually had Potions tutorial on Thursday nights. He wasn't there when I arrived, but there were ingredients sitting on one of the desks. Mandrake, cloves, red rose petals, a few other things I recognised but don't remember." He turned to her. "Ingredients for a love potion."

"A love potion? Severus?" Lily stared. "That's utterly absurd!"

"I wish it was. He came in and I demanded to know what was going on. This being Snape, he tried to hex me, but I managed to get his wand first. Even then I couldn't get a confession out of him, bloody stubborn bastard. I don't think he ever expected anyone to find out. Thought he'd covered his tracks, and he had. It was sheer luck I walked in when I did."

"Sirius, I'm entirely confused."

"It was for you, Lily. The potion." The icily-spoken words sent shudders along Lily's spine. "One of the ingredients was asphodel, a type of lily. And he had a few strands of your hair, if that hadn't already convinced me."

"I don't believe it. He wouldn't--"

"He would and he did. I've seen the way he's looked at you all year. And Snivellus is precisely the sort of sneaking coward who would use a love potion on a girl he doesn't deserve, to hell with any rules," Sirius declared, enunciating every word clear as crystal. "I wouldn't lie to you about something like this, Lil."

"I know you wouldn't. But..." she paused, as if to grasp for the right words, "...is that why?" He nodded. "Sirius, you don't try to kill someone for something as silly as a love potion! Everyone knows they don't really work."

"Have you any idea what you're talking about?" His voice had gone so quiet that Lily could barely hear it, but something had come alive in his face for the first time, a torturous mixture of disbelief and...she didn't even want to try to classify what the other emotion might have been.

"Sirius, I...don't look like that," she somehow managed. "Sirius, you're frightening me."

"You don't have a clue, do you?"

"No, I don't. Sirius, it's...it's just a love potion."

"Just a love potion? Just a fucking love potion?" Though the words had not risen in volume, the sheer disgust in Sirius' voice caused Lily to flinch backward. "Easy enough to make jokes about them, I suppose. And everyone accuses me of not thinking! They're no better than the Imperius Curse, do you know that? Have you even considered that?"

"Sirius, please. I didn't mean...what are you talking about?"

"You can't even think. You can barely breathe. All you see is..." he cut himself off. Lily glanced downward and saw that his hands were shaking. "I shouldn't have blown up at you like that," he said wearily. "You couldn't have known."

"Then tell me, Sirius," Reaching out, she grasped his hand, wincing at how cold his fingers were. "You need to tell someone, tell me."

"It's not a pretty story, Lil. Quite the opposite, in fact." He had turned away again, was now staring at some indeterminate spot in the darkness.

"I don't care. You've obviously been keeping it a secret, I don't know for how long--"

"Three years almost," he interrupted flatly. "Summer after third year, when I disappeared."

"What happened?" she asked, her fingers tightening unconsciously on his hand.

"Mother decided not to let me stay with Prongs that summer, claiming he was a bad influence on me. Father was away as usual, so it was her decision entirely. She sent me to my aunt and uncle's home in Cornwall. They'd gone to Romania for those few weeks, but my cousin Bellatrix was there. She'd just left Hogwarts; I doubt you'd recall her. She and Narcissa are twins, though most people don't know that. You can't tell at first when you look at them, because they're nearly opposite in colouring, but if you look closer, there's quite a bit of resemblance. Narcissa had already left for her year abroad at Beauxbatons--Aunt Eleanor decided to send her there for something like finishing school after Hogwarts--but Bella had never been interested in that sort of thing. So she was home."

(--there's blood on his lips. It might be his own, but he can't tell. She laughs at his confusion, rakes her nails deeper into his skin until he cries out--)

"I should have known better. I've known Bellatrix all my life. We used to spend the summers there when I was little. Andromeda was teaching me to fly and Narcissa spent all her time sunbathing and reading Witch Weekly. Bella was never interested in either of those things. She'd always be there, beside Narcissa, but with her nose buried in some obscure tome she'd stolen from my uncle's library." He paused, swallowing. "Bella and 'Cissa were always at extremes. There were times when you couldn't pry them apart, and just as many when they'd refuse to speak to one another for weeks on end. This was one of those times; they'd been fighting since Christmas. Something to do with Lucius Malfoy, but I didn't know it at the time. If I had, I'd have known better than to drink anything she gave me. I was 'Cissa's favourite, you see. And Bella, knew I'd never do anything to hurt her on my own."

("So delicious, sweeting. 'Cissa would be so angry if she knew what I was doing. You're the prettiest; that's why she likes you. She so likes pretty things. And you're not at all pretty now. But don't you worry. If you're good, I won't tell a soul, not even 'Cissa.")

"She gave you...?" Lily couldn't say it.

Sirius nodded, still refusing to turn. "To this day, I don't know what it was. Not a love potion in the classic sense; Bella is too clever for that. She was always clever." In his voice, the very slightest hint of admiration, tempered with horror. "Killed two birds with one stone. She'd heard about you too, leapt to the same conclusion 'Cissa did. That my plan was to follow Cousin Andromeda and taint the family line with a Mudblood. And that, of course, would never do. Mother had to have known, or at least guessed. But she didn't bat an eyelash. Better Bella than a Mudblood, right?"

(--he can see everything he's doing. Everything she's doing to him. Somewhere, the muffled cry of conscience, but he can't hear. Nothing but her voice, drawing him away from himself. "Where's your little Mudblood now? 'Cissa liked her too, with her lovely green eyes. You don't think she'd ever speak to you again if she knew the things you've done? Best you leave them alone, pet. They'd never understand.")

"Sirius?"

"Lil, don't ask me any more, please," he whispered. "I could see it all and I couldn't stop it. I tried, but it was too strong. She was too strong." After a moment, "The worst part is that I still feel it sometimes. It's why I avoid her as much as I do. Because every now and then, it strikes me how very beautiful she is. She knows it too."

The words froze in Lily's throat.

"And don't tell me to tell them." He finally looked at her and she could feel tears beginning to choke her. "I don't want to imagine their faces."

"You would rather they thought you'd done it for fun?" she almost croaked. "You can't mean that. They're your best friends."

"I'll lose them."

"You'll lose them if you don't."

A frown flared up between his brows. "Are you crying?"

"Of course I'm crying, you idiot," she snapped, the words escaping on a sob. "I'm crying because Severus Snape would never do something like that, and only you would be mad enough to think him capable of it! But I don't even know what he said to you, and while I can't justify what you did, it makes horrible awful sense somehow."

"Lil..." He glanced down at their clasped hands, then back up to her face with its streaks of tears flashing gold in the firelight. But she never found out what he was about to say, as the door opened to admit James and Professor Dumbledore, supporting Remus between them. He was covered in scratches, a fact made evident as the Headmaster set the flames roaring in the hearth. Sirius stiffened instantly, an unreadable mask falling over his face.

James's gaze immediately focused on Lily. "Li---Evans, what's wrong?"

Aware of Sirius' eyes on her, Lily managed, "Nothing...just...I was worried about Remus."

"He'll be fine, Lily. Madame Pomfrey has already made sure of that," Dumbledore replied as he and James lowered Remus into one of the armchairs. He conjured a small table with a tea tray. "Remus? Some tea?" he asked, as if nothing at all had happened.

Remus nodded slowly, saying nothing.

"Moony..." Sirius began, an unexpected quaver in his voice. "I didn't mean...well, I did mean to do it but, I had no idea...I'm sorry, Moony. I really am."

Remus kept his eyes firmly fixed on his cup of tea. "I'd rather not talk about it, Black, if it's all the same to you."

"I, however, would be quite keen on hearing your explanation, Sirius," put in the Headmaster, who was studying the young man with a rapidly growing frown.

"I..." Sirius turned to Dumbledore, meeting the pale-blue eyes with some trepidation, "He was brewing a love potion. For Lily--all the ingredients were there, and asphodel and..."

"I have it on good authority that you were mistaken in your assumption. You did not see the wormwood, did you? Or the sage and pine?" Sirius shook his head. "A potion to weaken love, Sirius. An anti-love potion, as it were."

Lily caught her breath. I've seen the way he's looked at you all year. And Snivellus is precisely the sort of sneaking coward who would use a love potion on a girl he doesn't deserve. "Oh Severus," she murmured into her hand.

"No-one is blaming you, Lily," Dumbledore reassured her. "We do not choose where we love; no doubt it would be far less annoying if we could." He glanced at James, who swiftly averted his eyes. "I am not saying that what Severus did was right. Using magic to control emotions, whether your own," back to Sirius, "or those of someone else, is not a wise course of action. However, neither was your course, Sirius."

"I know, sir." He stared at the ground. "I overreacted."

"You did."

"Are you going to expel me, sir?" asked Sirius softly.

"I am not, Sirius," replied the Headmaster. "It goes without saying that you will have detention for the rest of the term, and possibly next term as well, depending on Professor McGonagall. You are barred from all visits to Hogsmeade until next year, and I will be taking points from Gryffindor. You will apologise to Severus--and you will mean it. And I am afraid that I can no longer, in good conscience, put forth your name to the Ministry of Magic."

Sirius nodded, eyes closed. Lily could see the tightening of his fingers into a fist behind his back.

"It is imperative that you understand the consequences of your actions, Sirius."

"I understand, sir."

"Then I must return to the Hospital Wing. The sleeping draught will soon wear off. Remus, are you sure you wish to stay here tonight?"

"I am, Professor. I'd rather not see Snape if it's alright with you." The words were slurred from exhaustion. "I promise I'll see Madame Pomfrey again in the morning."

"I trust you, Remus." Dumbledore turned, moving toward the door in a swish of purple robes, before pausing and glancing back. "And James?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore?" James immediately snapped to attention.

"It was a very courageous thing you did. You saved a man's life--a young man whose relations with you are far from cordial--and in defiance of your best friend." He paused. "It could not have been easy."

James shook his head, unable to speak.

It was Lily who broke the silence that followed the Headmaster's departure, rising from the couch to kneel beside Remus' chair and taking his hands in hers. "Nobody was badly hurt, Remus. You did nothing wrong, do you hear me? Nothing."

He looked up at her, face fraught with misery. "I would have--"

"You didn't, Remus," she cut him off. "You need to remember that. You didn't."

"Moony?" It was Sirius' voice now, breathless and rasping, barely recognisable. "I'm so sorry. I am, I mean it. I wasn't thinking and I should have been."

"You never think." Remus did not look at him. "I can't imagine you'd start now."

"Moony--"

"Spare me," the words emerged clipped and harsh. "The next time you want to kill someone, Black, at least have the decency to do it yourself."

Sirius' face drained to a deathly white but he said nothing. Beside him, James finally spoke, his eyes moving warily between his two erstwhile friends. "I think that's enough for tonight. Come on, Moony. Let's get you upstairs. Wormtail?"

It was only then that Lily noticed the final person in the room. Peter Pettigrew, almost cowering near the door, eyes wide and frightened. Had he been there all along? She was quite certain he hadn't.

"Peter?" James asked, gentler this time. "I need your help."

Nodding slowly, Peter got to his feet. He and James each took hold of one of Remus' arms and slowly, like some lopsided six-legged creature, they made their way up to the boys' dormitory. Sirius remained where he stood until they had vanished around the curve of the staircase. Then he sank back onto the couch, his head buried in his hands.

Lily rose to her feet and moved to sit beside him. They did not move, even as the fire died down to embers and the room sank into darkness.

***

"Why?"

It was a single word, a single syllable, but the sheer force of its escape from Severus Snape's mouth caused Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to dig his nails into the sides of his chair in order to keep his composure. He kept it, of course. He always did.

"Tell me why." It was not shouted, nor was it cried. The three toneless syllables hung in the air, taunting him. There was nothing in the young man's face, but his eyes--Oh Merlin, did it have to come to this?--gaping, staring forth, swallowing reflection like black holes.

"I understand why this upsets you, Severus," he finally said, wincing inwardly at the inadequacy of the words.

"Do you, sir?" the first sign of emotion crept into his voice now, sarcasm held in check with perfect precision. "Explain it to me, then. Explain to me why Sirius Black--who, if you remember, very nearly killed me several days ago--isn't being held in the custody of the Ministry of Magic for attempted murder. And furthermore, why he is still within the walls of this school, serving detention. Please explain, sir. I would very much like to know."

"Sirius Black's actions were thoughtless, careless, rash, and stupid. I will not deny that."

"Not to mention homicidal, Professor. You forgot that bit. You know," Dumbledore could see the vein ticking in his neck, "the bit where he tried to kill me."

"He misconstrued something."

"Misconstrued! Miscon--" he broke off, taking a deep breath as if to regain control over his words. "You mean to say that you're going to let him off with bloody detention, when he saw fit to feed me to a werewolf on account of something he misconstrued?"

Albus, I ask you as your friend and your colleague. He trusts you. Do not betray that trust. For a second or two, the face in front of Dumbledore was not that of Severus Snape, but Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa pleading on behalf of his brightest student. And then he saw Sirius again, Sirius as he had been the previous night, and the face melted into yet another.

Is there anything you wish to tell me, Tom?

No. He could not take the risk.

And is not Severus Snape just as much of a risk?

The thought gave him pause. But Severus was steadier than Sirius Black. More logical. A scholar, not a soldier. He would understand. He had to. Surely a mind so brilliantly attuned to the subtlety of potions could understand that sometimes the smallest bit of poison was required as part of a larger antidote.

"I cannot afford to expel him, Severus. You must trust my judgement." Dumbledore stayed seated, despite the overwhelming urge to move toward the young man now standing so painfully straight that it seemed he might snap in half. "There is too much at stake. There is a bigger picture."

"Forgive me, sir, if the largest picture I can currently see is the one where I nearly died."

"Severus, if there were a better way to deal with this situation, I would implement it. But my hands are tied as much as anyone else's. You must trust me."

"I did trust you, Headmaster," Severus spat. "I see very little reason to do so now." Stepping back, he made his way toward the stairs.

"Severus..."

"Yes, sir?" The title dripped scorn.

"I take it you plan to inform your father of what happened?" Dumbledore kept his voice level as best he could, masking his sudden worry. "I would not blame you."

"I gave you my word not to do so, Headmaster. The...incident...will not leave this room."

Try as he might, Dumbledore could not quite hide the slight slump of his shoulders in relaxation. "Then we are all in your debt, Severus."

"Don't." The single word emerged clear as diamond-glass. "I've never broken my word, sir. A Snape never breaks his word. Pity others don't follow my family's example in that."

And, turning on his heel, he departed the office. Dumbledore leant back in his chair and closed his eyes. He felt so very old all of a sudden.

***

"Oi, Snape." It was Evan Rosier, his eerily cherubic face evincing only slight concern. "You alright, mate?"

Severus made a noncommittal noise.

"We've not seen you around in a few days. Thought we'd ask." Behind him, as usual, was Wilkes. But Crabbe and Goyle, two of the seventh-years, were there as well.

Severus shrugged. "Just went a bit too close to the Whomping Willow. That's all."

"How dim do you think we are, Snape?" demanded Rosier, causing Severus to glance up, surprised. "You vanish for four days. You reappear, looking for all the world like you were ambushed by a gang of harpies, Gryffindor gets docked three hundred points for something nobody knows anything about, and Black and Lupin aren't speaking to one another. That stinks of more than the Whomping Willow."

"Leave it, Rosier. It's not important." He could have broken his word to Dumbledore. After all, the Headmaster had broken his, hadn't he? But he remembered his own taunting exit line from the office--A Snape never breaks his word. Pity others don't follow my family's example in that.--and he bit back the truth. "It's nothing."

"Suit yourself." Rosier stepped back, as if to leave, but paused, studying Severus speculatively. "I did have something to ask you though."

"Ask away."

"There's a...gathering at the Lestrange's in London during Easter hols." He advanced again, slowly rolling up the sleeve of his robes. "A select gathering, Snape. Very select."

Marring the smooth skin of his forearm was the outline of a serpent and a skull. And it seemed, for several seconds, that the empty sockets were gazing into the very depths of Severus' mind, and that a voice somewhere in the shadows whispered for only him to hear.

I know who you are, what you seek. Turn from the light, Severus. Your power lies in darkness. With me.

He shivered. "Are you inviting me?"

"I'm not," Rosier refuted calmly. "Someone else is."