Dumbledore's Secret

Chapter 2

Charlotte felt herself swimming in and out of consciousness as the black haired man walked toward her.

"Guinevere Dumbledore, isn't that your name?" the monster asked her mother.

He was coming closer to her. She looked desperately into his dark brown eyes. Please don't do this, she thought in a panic.

"Mom?" Suddenly, she was 8 years old, in a grocery store, at the checkout counter, her mother beside her, writing a check for the cashier. "Mom, what does the D. stand for?"

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"You always sign your name, Guinevere D. Richardson. What does the D. stand for?"

"Don't you worry yourself about that."

He was towering above her. He looked tired and beaten, but he held his wand firmly in front of him.

"Mom, I read that some witches and wizards go to school year round just for magic! Can I go to a school like that?" She was 11, with bright red pigtails and a scabbed knee.

"Do not call yourself a witch. You are a normal little girl."

"But ..."

"If I hear any arguments from you, I won't send you back to Ms. Hopkins' place for lessons, do you hear me? And do not take that wand out in front of me. If your father hadn't insisted, I wouldn't have gotten you one at all."

"I want to hear her scream and feel her struggle," he said, and the others laughed as he pointed his wand and murmured, "Finite Incantatum!"

"I don't see why you're always pretending to be something you're not!" Fifteen and angry, her cheeks as red as her hair.

"Don't you dare take that tone of voice with me, young lady."

"Mom, please, you've got to let me go! I hardly get to learn any magic at all with Ms. Hopkins! Once a week isn't enough! And she says I'm definitely talented enough to transfer to Salem ..."

"I said no, and I mean it."

"But magic is important to me, it's ..."

"Magic is dangerous! And that's the end of it."

When he reached down and tore the first button off her shirt, she screamed as loud as she could, but her voice was ragged and cracked. His breath was on her ear, and she tried desperately to move her hands and repel him, but her weak arms could only flail against him uselessly.

"Listen, Mom, I've been doing a lot of thinking." College graduation, her mortar-board cap still atop her now auburn hair. "I've done everything you asked. I've gotten a normal education, and I still want ..."

"Please, Charlotte, don't let's fight on a happy day like this!"

"But Mom, you've never seemed to understand, the magic, I can feel it, almost like it's coursing through my body, and I need ..."

"You've learned to control it. No one has to know but us, Char."

"But I want to know more! I want to meet other witches and wizards! I want ..."

"You're so selfish! You want, you want, you want!" Her mother's voice was a screech. "I have told you a thousand times already, magic is dangerous! It's foolish! It's ..."

"Mom, what happened to you? Why do you think ..."

"I never want to talk about this again, do you understand?"

"But Mom ..."

"I swear to God, Charlotte, if you bring up magic once more in front of me, I won't speak to you, I swear it."

"You don't mean that."

"I mean it absolutely and completely."

A pause. A long, desperate stare into those eyes that were so much like her own. "Well, goodbye, mother." She walked away, but she thought she heard, distantly, her mother calling out, "No! Charlotte, listen to me! Listen to me!"

"Listen to me!" His hand was on her breast, and his lips were on her ear. She felt, more than heard, herself crying. "Listen to me! I want to help you, but you have to play along!"

She quieted herself, and immediately he whispered, "Keep screaming!" Her shirt was completely off now.

"I don't trust him, my lord," a voice called out behind them. It was the silver-handed death eater's voice.

"I'm sorry for this," the man atop her muttered, then he drew back and cried out, "Crucio!"

It wasn't as bad as when the monster had cursed her, but now that she could hear her own pathetic moans of pain, she felt more frightened than ever. Was he really trying to help her or was he just playing with her? As she convulsed in agony, her head twisted to the side, and she found herself staring once again into her mother's dead, open eyes. "Mom," she whispered. I'm so sorry, she thought. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry...

"Well, get on with it, Severus," the monster called out.

He was on top of her again, his hand now at the waistband of her pants. "Will you be able to stand? Just squeeze my hand if you can."

She pressed it violently. Please, get me out of here, she thought looking up at him. "Scream loudly," he whispered into her ear, and as she yelled at the top of her voice, he murmured, "Evanesco!"

She spun through the darkness for a moment before tumbling hard onto the floor of her mother's kitchen. A second later, he fell beside her. Before she could say anything to him, he had his wand out and was aiming it at a woman in dark robes in the next room. "Stupefy!" he whispered, and the bright light of his spell struck her in the back before she knew there was anyone nearby.

"Get up," he muttered, and Charlotte stumbled to her feet. "We have to get outside." He pulled her by the arm to the back door. As they staggered into the back yard, he asked, "Where the hell are we?"

"Just outside of Asheville." At his blank look, she added, "North Carolina."

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, looking over his shoulder as they ran into the small patch of woods outside her mother's home. "We've got to Apparate out of here, quick." Then he paused. "You can Apparate, can't you?"

She looked back at the house. "My mother..."

"We don't have time for this!"

She then nodded curtly. "Yes, I can, well, I learned only a few months ago."

"There's no way we'll make it to Hogwarts, at least not in the state we're in."

"My house," she said, then shook her head. "No, the owl. They know where it is."

"Choose anywhere, but you'll have to hold on to me. I don't know where we're going."

They stopped running, though they could hear the death eaters not far behind. He pulled her behind a tree just as one of them shot a curse at them. She clutched his arms, then closed her eyes and hoped to God she didn't splinch them. She was in no state to Apparate alone, much less take another person, but the adrenaline pumped through her as she whispered, "Fran Hopkins' house," and within a minute, they found themselves outside a small, abandoned house in the mountains.

*

Severus glanced from the deserted house to the young woman beside him. "Where are we now?"

Staring straight ahead, she said nothing. He realized she was wearing only her bra and pants. Despite the warm evening, she began to shiver violently, and Severus whipped off his cloak and threw it around her. "Do not go into shock," he muttered fiercely, but his arms were gentle as he lifted her up and carried her into the empty cottage.

The front door was locked, but after a quick "Alohomora," he was able to push into the dark, musty house. The place was almost completely empty; there were a few broken dishes scattered across the floor and a rickety old rocking chair in the corner. Wondering if it was stable enough to hold even the small woman in his arms, Severus gently placed her onto the chair.

Kneeling in front of her, he looked into her unfocused eyes and asked quietly, "Can you tell me where we are?" He tried to keep the impatience out of his voice, but he knew they didn't have time for her to fall apart, no matter how warranted such a reaction might be.

Suddenly, she blinked and said, "I'm sorry, I know you're anxious, I'm sorry, I don't mean to act like such a ..." She stopped and took a deep breath.

He looked at her in surprise, not expecting her to be aware enough to pick up on his anxiety.

"We're about 20 miles from my mother's ... from the place where we were," she said, her voice breaking. "We're only about 10 miles from my own place. They know where that is, I think. I know I should have taken us farther away, but I ..."

"Shhh," he murmured, getting up and moving to the broken window. He looked outside, knowing the death eaters probably couldn't have found them so quickly, but he felt the need to check, just the same. Death eaters were nothing if not resourceful.

"This was the only place I could think to come where I knew there wouldn't be anyone around for the death eaters to hurt."

He nodded without thinking, then looked sharply at her when her words sunk in. "You know we're ... they're called death eaters, then?" At her nod, he said, "Not many Americans have been paying much attention to what's happening with us."

She sighed. "I know. But I teach history of magic, so I've read more than most about ..." her voice trailed off.

Even from across the dark room, he could tell she was about to fall back into her despair, so he said, somewhat desperately, "You teach history of magic? I thought you were muggle raised."

Immediately he scowled. Damn, Severus, why don't you just shout out, think about your dead mother!

"It's okay," she said softly, even comfortingly. Again, he felt taken aback by her ability to read his emotions. "I was raised mostly as a muggle. I learned just enough magic to keep me from blowing things up." She paused, then actually managed a smile. "I learned what little I know in this house, actually. Before she died, Fran was one of the few witches willing to teach in this area."

"But now you teach, too?"

She nodded. "After college, I decided to contact Fran and offer to help. I'd studied to be a muggle teacher, but I really wanted to ..." She broke off, then said, "Many witches and wizards around here don't want to admit they're different."

"So your school, what is it called?" he managed to ask politely, masking his growing frustration. They needed to be formulating a plan, not engaging in small talk! But she still seemed on the verge of a breaking, and he didn't know what else to do.

She laughed softly. "It's not really a school. More like a tutoring program ... I only meet students once a week, usually on the weekends. During the week, I teach at a muggle school. With my magical students, I only taught the basics - some spellwork, theory and history, but not much else. Their parents didn't really want them to learn past that, and anyway, I was never able to learn much more than the basics myself."

"Quite a difference from Hogwarts," he said.

"Hogwarts, the British School?" She paused then said very quietly, "He called you professor."

Severus met her eyes in the darkness. This whole day felt surreal. What was he doing in the middle of nowhere, talking about the difference between American and British magical education with Albus Dumbledore's long lost granddaughter? "I don't know your name," he murmured.

She took a deep breath. "Charlotte Richardson. And your name ... Severus Snape?"

He looked away. He suddenly hated the fact that everything she knew about him she had learned through Voldemort's taunts.

"We need to get Hogwarts," he said abruptly. "I have to get you to your grandfather."

"My grandfather," she repeated slowly. Then she shook her head. "Look," she said, stiffly rising from the chair and walking over to him. "Look, I really appreciate ... you saved my life, and I know you're eager to get out of here. You go where you have to go. I've got to go back and get my mother."

"You're mother is dead," he said firmly but quietly.

She looked back at him with tears in her eyes. "I know, but her body ..."

"They will kill you in an instant, you realize that? Do you think your mother would want that?"

"I don't know what she'd want!" she yelled out suddenly. Then, more softly, "I'm sorry, you're right. I just don't know what I'm doing, I'm very tired, I hadn't spoken to her in so long, I ... God, I'm rambling, I ..."

He took her by the shoulders. "Look, you've had a ...rough day. But if we don't get out of here soon, they're going to catch up to us. And I promise you, as bad as you've had it today, it can get worse."

She looked up at him and managed a weak laugh. "Quite the optimist, aren't you? Fine. Let's get out of here. But I can't apparate to Britain. I barely got us here."

Without thinking, he said, "That's the truth." As soon as the severe words were out of his mouth, he looked down at her with trepidation, but to his surprise, she smiled wryly.

"I told you I had just learned how."

"Fantastic," he muttered darkly. "Where's the nearest floo?"

"Uh, my fireplace is hooked up the local network, but I'm not sure ..."

"Right. That's no good. Anywhere closer? Does this fireplace work?"

She went over to the mantle, then said, "No floo powder here, and I doubt we could get anywhere besides Lucinda's, anyway."

"Lucinda's?"

"The only wizard's bar that I know of in the area. Fran loved her Odgen's Old firewhisky."

Before he could stop himself, he grumbled, "Your friend did not have very good taste."

She shrugged. "I never liked the stuff, either, but it's better than Butterbeer."

Despite himself, he felt a smile creep onto his lips. "You've got a point."

They were silent for a moment, and Severus racked his brain for some way out of here. It had been a good quarter of an hour since they had arrived, and he doubted it would take the death eaters much longer to track them. They would have guessed that neither of them could travel far, and he knew that Rodney Goyle, for all his stupidity, was not half bad at tracking charms. Given Miss Richardson's unrefined Apparation skills, it wouldn't have surprised Severus if they were found within the hour.

"Have you been anywhere in the U.S. before?" she asked him suddenly.

"What?" He was in no mood for more chit-chat.

Her voice was suddenly stern, and he could hear the teacher in her. "Just answer my question."

"Salem," he said curtly.

Her face lit up. "Great, that's one of the few places I've traveled outside the South!"

"As thrilling as I find your travel history ..." he said, not bothering to hide his irritation now.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're no longer treating me with kid gloves," she said with a slight smile. "You can only apparate to a place you know, right? Well, each of us can apparate to Salem. It's a fair distance, but since you can go on your own, I think I can manage ..."

He looked at her with some appreciation. "And the Salem Institute's floo network is hooked up to Hogwarts, so we won't have to apparate across the Atlantic." He paused. "That will be an adequate plan, I suppose."

"Thank you," she said, dryly.

Their eyes met, and he suddenly felt rather impressed. Despite everything she'd been through, she had managed to keep her composure, for the most part, and she was even able to put up with his bad temper.

"I'm glad you approve," she said, smiling again.

"How did you ..."

She shrugged. "I'm good at reading people. Now, where in Salem should I aim for? I only know a couple of places."

"Have you been to the Salem Institute? Or just the town?"

"I went to the Salem Institute for a conference last year. I know it a little."

"Apparate just outside the main gates."

She nodded, then said, "See you there," before departing with a loud pop. He was about to follow when something caught his eye just outside the window. A man in a dark robe had just appeared in the front yard. "Shit," he muttered before quickly apparating away.

*

When Remus Lupin stepped out of Albus's fireplace, the old headmaster felt sorrow swell within him. The young man looked so shabby, so tired lately. Remus had never had it easy, but the two years since he'd left Hogwarts had been more difficult than usual for him. Making sure to keep the pity, which the dignified young man would never welcome, from his voice, Albus put on a kindly smile and said, "Ah, Remus, I'm glad you could come."

Shaking the dust off his tattered robes, he nodded, then asked anxiously, "Is it Harry?"

Albus exchanged a quick glance with Minerva, who was sitting in an arm chair by the window, before responding. "No, though the boy's not well."

Remus frowned. "I should go to him. I know I can never make up for Sirius, but he needs ..."

"Right now," Minerva interjected firmly, "he needs his rest." Albus looked fondly at his wife. Even in the plush seat - Albus had a weakness for big, cushy chairs - she looked so stern, so proper with her back straight and her chin high. He took a moment to marvel at his good fortune in snaring such a woman before returning his attention to Remus.

"What can I do, then?" Remus asked insistently. "Is it something with the Order? I've nearly given up on the Packs in Eastern Europe. They're convinced Voldemort will give them the power they've always craved, but I think the Spanish werewolves..."

Albus held up a hand. "Remus, I have every confidence in you where that is concerned. Please, have a seat."

Remus gave him a rather wary glance before taking a seat next to Minerva. Conjuring another chair beside them both, Albus sat down and said, "My boy, how are you doing?"

The younger man looked up at him with surprise. "Me? I ... well ... I'm fine."

"Are you?" Albus asked softly.

Remus nodded unconvincingly. "I managed to dodge most of their hexes," he said in a faint voice.

"But you lost your best friend," the headmaster said softly. Remus stared down at his hands, and Albus felt his eyes burn suddenly at the thought of their dead compatriot.

"It's so much worse than I could have imagined," Remus admitted with a whisper. "After twelve years of believing him a traitor, I managed to make myself forget, mostly. But when he came back ..." Remus stopped, then coughed roughly. "I really believed things were going to be all right."

"And they still can be!" Minerva cried, grabbing the younger man's hand. "Don't give up hope now. That's not what Sirius would want. And it's not what Harry needs."

Remus nodded, his eyes still downcast. "No, you're right."

"How is Tonks?" Albus asked him, and Remus looked up sharply, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"She's fine," he said. "But still unconscious."

Albus nodded, then deciding to get on with it, he said, "I hate to burden you more, my son, but ..."

"No, tell me what I can do," Remus asked resolutely.

Albus smiled sadly. "You're a good man, Remus. Tonight, I think something terrible has happened."

Remus's eyes widened. "So soon after ... I thought Voldemort would have needed to recover ..."

Minerva shook her head. "Apparently, he has more strength than we realized. Severus was summoned just a few hours ago."

"Is he ...he hasn't returned?"

Albus shook his head. "Not only that but ..." He stopped and looked over at Minerva, who gave him an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I received this late last night." With hardly a movement, Albus summoned a parchment from his desk and handed it to Remus.

When the younger man had finished reading it, he looked up with astonishment and said, "This secret ...The headquarters? The prophecy?"

"No, no," Albus said. "No, I think he means ..." He stopped and studied his fingers before saying, "I need you to contact Kingsley, have him put some Aurors on the lookout for a Romanian man named Nicolae Radu."

Remus nodded, then asked hesitantly, "Can I give him any more information?"

Albus was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "Radu is the secret keeper for my daughter, Guinevere. He's the only man in our world who knows where she is."

Remus gazed at him in shock. "You and Minerva ..."

Albus shook his head and glanced sadly at his wife. "No, we decided not to have any children."

Minerva managed a smile. "Or we've had thousands of children here at Hogwarts, depending on how you look at it."

Despite himself, Albus laughed. "Yes, I suppose you're right." Then he sighed and said, "Guinevere was born to my first wife, before the war with Grindelwald. When Gwen was 15 - I was the transfiguration professor then, and she was a student here - her mother, Ekaterina, was killed. Grindelwald murdered her. Gwen felt it was best to leave... Radu was her uncle, Ekaterina's brother. Gwen asked him to keep her hidden somewhere ... she didn't trust me anymore," he ended in a harsh whisper.

No one said anything for a few minutes, and Albus found himself trying to remember everything he could about his daughter. So many of her memories were stored away in the Pensieve, hidden away, more from himself than from anyone else (in his case, he truly was his own worst enemy, as no one else had the power to break into his mind). But there were bits of her that he could never put away, particularly her firsts: her first smile, her first word ("Fawkes!" who had been, perhaps, her favorite member of the family), her first step, her first flying lesson, her first day at Hogwarts (a proud new member of Ravenclaw), her first transfiguration lesson ("Father, if you dare embarrass me, I'll not speak to you again, I swear it!"). She had been a proud, clever, talented young woman, and he had not been able to protect her from the world.

Finally, Minerva coughed delicately and he looked up with bright eyes. She smiled at him, and he felt himself pulled back into the present. "I believe Voldemort has found her," he said, pointing to the parchment still in Remus's hands.

Remus sighed. "I hope you're wrong, but I'll have Kingsley check it out immediately." He started to rise from his seat, then stopped. "Do you think Severus's summoning tonight has anything to do with this?"

"I hope he'll return soon and let us know," Albus said. "He's been away far too long."

"Surely you don't think ..." Minerva began.

"Severus will be an easy scapegoat for what happened last night," Albus muttered, then he said angrily, "I told him not to answer. I told him to stop."

Seeing Remus's stunned look, he said, "I'm sorry for the outburst. But, as you know, Severus can be stubborn."

Remus nodded. "He can also take care of himself," the younger man said with an attempt at a soothing smile.

Albus shook his head. "He's becoming more and more careless." Remus's eyes widened, and Albus continued, "No, not with Order secrets. He's a superb Occulmens, and he'd die for the Order, no matter what the others might think." He sighed. "No, Severus is starting to be careless with his own life. The spying is too much for him, though he'll never admit it."

"Have faith, Albus," Minerva said softly, and he smiled.

"You see," he told Remus, as the younger man got up to leave. "You now know the secret of my success," he said, winking at his wife.

"They do say that behind every great man is a great woman," Remus agreed with a smile as he grabbed a handful of floo powder.

"Yes," Albus said, and then, as the former DADA professor was about to step into the fire, he added, "Do say hello to Tonks for us when she wakes."

Not even the green flames of the floo could hide poor Remus Lupin's bright red face as he disappeared.

"Really, Albus!" Minerva scolded him. "You shouldn't embarrass him so." But they both smiled, and he was glad that, even in these dark days, love always seemed to find some place to bloom.

*

Charlotte felt slightly dizzy as her feet touched ground. In front of her stood a large, cast-iron gate flanked by two long brick walls that continued as far she could see. Beyond the gate, she made out the main building of the Salem Institute, the U.S.'s only boarding school for witches and wizards. Before she could stop herself, she thought of how much she would have given to be here, and away from her mother, some fifteen years ago. And now she would have given anything for just the opposite. Her stomach clenched, and she quickly turned away from the gate and forced herself to concentrate on her surroundings. Shivering at the light rain the dripped down her face and arms, she pulled Severus's cloak more tightly around her. She realized suddenly that she had no shirt on beneath the cloak, which was only buttoned at her throat. Quickly, she began fastening the rest of the clasps when Severus apparated a few feet away from her.

"Come on, we have to get moving," he said urgently, heading toward the school.

Racing to keep up with him, she asked, "What's going on?"

"There was someone outside the house when I left," he said, walking up to the gate and touching the metal bars lightly.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he responded, his voice laced with annoyance. "I'm trying to open the gates."

Pointing at the small panel of buttons embedded in one of the brick columns, she said, "It might work better if you used the intercom."

He scowled and muttered something about how Hogwarts didn't use "stupid muggle technology." She waited for him to ask for her help, but he said nothing and instead started pushing buttons at random.

"What do you want?" a voice crackled over the small speaker.

"We need to see Patrick Quigley, Professor of Potions."

There was no response, and then the voice crackled again, "Are you still there? What do you want? If you kids mess with this intercom one more time ..."

Severus looked back at Charlotte, a deep frown etched across his face. Trying not to smile, she walked up to the panel, pushed the talk button and repeated Severus's request. As she waited for the response, she looked up at the irritated man beside her. This fidgety, angry person seemed to share little besides a face with the calm, compassionate man who had kept her from falling apart a half hour earlier. And then there was the third man, the one who had called that monster "My lord," the man who had torn at her clothes with a frightening - if feigned - intensity. Without thinking, she glanced down at his arms and looked for the tattoo she had seen on the silver-handed one. But she could see nothing beneath the black dress shirt that covered his arms.

"I'm sorry," the voice on the intercom called out, "but Professor Quigley has left for the summer."

Charlotte glanced up at Severus and said, "Perhaps we should ask to see someone else ..."

He shook his head and, grabbing her by the arm, began to lead her away from the school and toward Salem town. "Bloody American schools, they let out too early."

She gave him an exasperated glance. "And so, we're running away from our one chance to get away safely?"

"No, I'm making sure we do get out of here safely. Quigley is the only one I trust there."

"Surely there aren't death eaters here!"

"Spare me your naiveté," he sneered.

"You said yourself that we Americans haven't been paying much attention to you ..."

"Voldemort knows that this is one of the few places we can go to leave the States without apparating," Severus interrupted. "Even if he doesn't have any followers here - and I wouldn't be surprised if he did, despite your countrymen's propensity to ignore events in the rest of the world - he could just as easily have sent one of his henchmen here to convince, if you get my meaning, the remaining staff to be on the lookout for us. No, we need to go somewhere anonymous, to an inn or some such place with a floo network. We'll have to floo to Hogsmeade instead of Hogwarts, as the school is probably not linked to some random pub, but it will do."

As they reached the edge of Salem's wizarding section, she realized that they hardly looked anonymous, she in Severus's overly long black cloak, he, with his long, black hair hanging around his face, dressed rather austerely in his formal black dress shirt and slacks. They stuck out among the small groups of American wizards who, for the most part, tended to dress like muggles, wearing shorts, t-shirts, and sandals, even in the chilly rain. But there were a few spiky haired teenagers dressed in leather and collars and one middle aged woman wearing a Victorian style gown, so Charlotte tried to convince herself that the second glances the two of them received were no more ominous than the snickers and sideways looks the other oddly dressed people got.

They walked along the main street, his hand still clutching her elbow. "Do you know of an appropriate place?" he asked her, pushing his black hair - now fairly sopping from the steady drizzle - out of his face.

He was a harsh looking man, she thought, as she said, "I stayed at a place called the Stone Press Inn. I think they had a floo ..."

"The Stone Press Inn?" he asked, his lips turning up slightly. The smile seemed to soften the hard lines of his face, and she found herself smiling in return.

"Yes, I think it's a bit of a joke... you know Giles Corey, mistaken for a wizard, Salem Witch Trials of 1692..."

"Yes, I know, Miss Richardson. Rather a sick sense of humor that you Yanks have."

She couldn't help but look down at his arm again, her eyes searching for the dark mark. Following where her eyes traveled, he said very softly, "Yes, rightly put in my place. Forgive me."

She met his eyes and suddenly felt the waves of self-loathing and sorrow that emanated from him. She had always been sensitive to other people's emotions, so much so that she could almost always guess what they were thinking or experiencing. Usually, the skill served her well, but on a night like this one, with her own grief nearly overwhelming her, she wished she hadn't been able to guess at the pain he was feeling. She looked quickly away from him before her eyes welled up with tears. "I ... I think that's an inn," she muttered, pointing at the sign of an establishment a few feet away. The sign read "The Toad's Stool," and as they entered the place, they found that it was not so much an inn but a bar. Still, they saw, in the corner, a floo, and they made their way quickly toward it.

"Is your floo working?" Severus asked the barman with a nod to the fireplace.

"Sure, we've got connections to Boston, New York, Chicago, L.A. ..."

"Hogsmeade."

"England?" the barman asked in surprise. Charlotte wished his voice were just a tad softer, especially since his words carried easily across the near empty bar. She looked around with trepidation, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

"Yes, England," Severus said, his voice a soft hiss.

The barman scowled. "Now, don't cop an attitude with me, Mister. You foreign wizards, always thinking ..."

"Please," Charlotte cut in, trying to smile placating. "We're just in a bit of a hurry."

The barman shook his head. "I don't do internationals, but you can go over to the Stone Press, two blocks over, on Miller Street."

"Thank you," she managed before Severus had steered her out of the bar. "So much for Americans as the rude tourists."

"Next time I'm here for pleasure, I'll keep that in mind," he muttered, looking back over his shoulder.

"Are we being followed?" she whispered nervously.

"No, not that I can tell. That bloody barman was loud enough, though."

When they reached the Stone Press, they found a sizable group of people milling about in the lobby of the beautiful old inn. Pressing their way through the crowd, she and Severus reached the marble front desk where, behind it, stood a middle-aged woman in a neatly pressed uniform.

"Floo or room?" the harried associate asked.

"Floo," Severus said quickly. "We're trying to get to ..."

"You'll have to wait for this tour group to go first." The worker nodded to the gathering of chatting wizards and witches behind them, then started to write up a ticket for the both of them. "Where ya headed, Boston?"

"Hogsmeade." Then, at the sign of surprise on the employee's face, Severus bit out, "Yes, England. Are you connected?"

"I don't know ..." the worker said, shrugging her shoulders. "It's a lot of trouble, but I guess I could be, for the right price."

Severus muttered an obscenity that Charlotte couldn't make out, then dropped a sack of coins on the counter. "Here, that should be plenty. And while you're at it, put us at the head of the queue."

The woman behind the counter opened the sack, then shook her head. "No way, this is English currency."

"Then change it at a bank! That's a good five hundred American ..."

"Well, okay," the woman agreed reluctantly. "But you'll still have to wait at the end of the line," she said as she handed them a ticket.

Charlotte turned away from the counter in exasperation, then stopped suddenly when she saw the man at the door. She'd never seen his face before, but his cloak looked almost identical to the one she was wearing, and when she met his eyes, she felt an upsurge of fear that she couldn't explain.

"Severus," she said, grabbing his arm tightly.

He looked around quickly, then said, "Shit, duck!" just as a burst of green light flew toward them. The crowd around them screamed and fell to the ground, and Severus had a clear line of sight as he pointed his wand at the death eater and yelled, "Expelliarmus!"

The death eater's wand flew out of his hands, but he pulled out yet another wand and took aim. Severus pulled her behind the inn's front desk, where the greedy employee crouched. "Get out of here, you hoodlums!" she yelled at them, but neither of them paid much attention. Severus quickly popped up from behind the counter and shot out "Reducto!", causing a large vase of flowers to shatter in the death eater's face. Charlotte reached for her own wand, then realized that she no longer had it with her. She looked around frantically and saw the now-empty fireplace in the corner of the room. "Come on!" she had to yell to Severus over the chaos of spells that now just about everyone in the room was shooting at each other. She pointed to the fireplace, and he nodded eagerly. Just as they reached the opening, the death eater had pushed his way through the crowd and was taking aim once again. Charlotte quickly grabbed a handful of floo powder as Severus pulled her into the green flames and held her tight. "Hogsmeade!" they both shouted as Charlotte threw the dust into the air.

Within seconds, they were stumbling out of a fireplace and into a faintly-lit, near-empty pub. "Madam Rosmerta!" Severus gasped as an attractive blonde woman came rushing toward them. "I have to close up your fireplace. A death eater ..."

The woman yelped, and Charlotte watched as Severus conjured a block of cement that fit exactly into the opening of the fireplace, then yelled "Colloportus!" to seal the block in place.

"That should hold for the time being," he said. "Contact the Aurors stationed in Hogsmeade." Then he turned to Charlotte and said, "Come on."

It had to be past midnight where they were now, and the darkness, combined with Severus's incredibly fast-paced run, caused Charlotte to stumble. "Please, slow down!" she called out. "You blocked the fireplace, so shouldn't we be ..."

"They could still apparate here," he said, but he slowed his pace slightly. When she finally caught up, they were almost at the gates of Hogwarts. Now, when he brushed his hands over the metal bars, the large grates immediately swung open to him. "We're almost there," he murmured encouragingly, and though it was too dark to be sure, she thought he smiled at her as they hurried up the front drive to the enormous stone castle.