Summoned

Chapter 18: Secrets

"Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business."

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

July 24-25 1995, early evening - early morning

It wasn't just guilt. It was guilt mingled, as he was sure Dumbledore had intended it, with sorrow.

There had been days, early on at Hogwarts, when he had watched Severus and had thought about trying to be his friend. He knew the newly-Sorted Slytherin was lonely and he was quite definitely an outcast. Being one himself, Remus had wanted to at least try to befriend him, despite what everyone was saying about him.

But there was an obstacle to his intention: actually, two obstacles. James Potter and Sirius Black, whose friendships from the very first night had meant too much for him to risk losing.

So, for a short while, certainly not more than a month or two, he'd felt badly about not even trying to be nice to Severus: because it was obvious, from that first night, that Severus Snape had two enemies for life. And Remus thought life would be better with James and Sirius than with Severus.

After the first term, he occasionally tried to get James and Sirius to ease off Snape, but more often than not, he just stood by and watched his friends hex and jinx the very unlovable, unlikable Slytherin; and he watched Snape retaliate, sometimes brilliantly, and always with enough venom to reinforce the decision Remus had made the first night at Hogwarts.

Then, his sixth year at Hogwarts, he and Snape had been paired for their N.E.W.T.-level Potions and Herbology project, and for a while, things had changed between them. For the first months of that term, they had worked together easily, and what might almost have been a kind of friendship had developed between them.

But later that year, through a series of events he still wasn't comfortable revisiting, things between him and Severus had - well, improved. Immensely. And in a very different direction.

But that had not lasted long before, once again, the Marauders interfered and created a situation he doubted Severus would ever discuss again.

Then, two years ago, Remus had returned to Hogwarts, a professor in his own right, but holding the position Severus had coveted for more than a decade. And Sirius' escape from Azkaban - as joyous as that turned out to be - once more put a stopper in any possible camaraderie that Lupin thought might redevelop between him and the Slytherin Potions master.

Now, the long-submerged guilt and sorrow over what begun, twice, but had never been, was resurrected. And he didn't really like being inside his own head right now.

He didn't like the thought of facing Severus when he woke up, either.

In fact, he fantasized about leaving the draught on the chair by the bed and making his way back to London and the safety and boredom of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

But Gryffindor was where the brave of heart were supposed to be, and so he stayed and waited by Snape's bedside until the morning. He didn't hurry the waking process this time; he left it alone and hoped that it would take a while.

But it seemed that Severus was throwing off the effects of the potion more quickly each time. And now he was staring into the room within minutes of having taken his first, wakening breath.

"Severus," he said, finally risking drawing his attention. Maybe he could get that final dose down before he remembered what had happened. "Here." He held out the cup for him and waited for him to take it.

"Oh, you don't really think I'm going to drink that, do you?" he snarled. He could barely manage it, but he finally sat up, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Get out."

Lupin found his hackles rising - figuratively, at this point. "Stop playing the wounded victim, Severus, it doesn't become you. You should have warned me about this blasted potion, don't you think? Maybe before -"

"Before you started nosing into things that weren't any of your business?" He grabbed the closest poster on the bed and hoisted himself up. "I want you out of here. Now."

"You've got one more dose. If that Mark on your arm starts burning while you're unconscious, someone has to give you the potion to wake you up. I assume you brought some in your trunk?"

"I am not. Taking. The next. Dose. Go away!"

"You are a damned idiot!" Lupin swore. He put the cup down on the chair. "You'd cut off your own abnormally large nose just to spite your face! You need to -"

"My abnormally large nose?" Snape growled, then let go of the poster and stepped one step closer to him. "Why don't I tell you about my abnormally large nose, Lu-pin! My father, bless his vicious soul, used to break my nose on a regular basis. And my dear, thoughtful mother would wave her magic wand and heal it, just to make my father angry again. So guess what he would do next!" He paused for breath, and the discoloration on his face from all the bruising, deepened.

"And always, every time she healed the break, she left the bones just as they were, so it got bigger and more crooked every year!" He closed on Lupin and though he was shaking, he obviously had far more strength than he'd had twelve hours before. "You think Potter and Black were the first ones to make fun of it? After Christmas break the first year, you all noticed how much bigger and more crooked it was! You remember? Potter certainly noticed! He wasted no time at all enjoying himself at my expense! Do you want to know why my nose didn't get any larger after my first year at Hogwarts, Lupin? Do you want to know?"

"Not especially," he answered, actually finding that his stomach was clenching with the impending knowledge that he was going to regret every miserable thing he'd ever said about Severus' nose.

"Oh, but I want you to know! It was because my father stopped breaking my nose that summer. He was murdered. And my mother - and I - ended up in Azkaban. She couldn't wave her magic wand at me any more, but then she really didn't have a reason to, either. Except that I know she missed being able to use the Cruciatus Curse on me. Oh, she missed that a lot!"

"Stop it!" he yelled. He turned away, but Severus grabbed his arm and swung him back around.

"Oh, but there's so much more to know!" He was breathing heavily, apparently from the effort of standing up. "Or why don't we talk about you for a while. Why don't we talk about the day you were bitten, Lupin? How old were you? Six? Or maybe we'll talk about Fenrir Greyback, and all the years of nightmares you had about him? Let's talk about how you dreaded going to school."

He released Lupin's arm with a shove. "Or, no. No, let's talk about how you lost your best friend when you transformed the first time! About how your family had to move away!"

How in the name of Merlin did he know that? Lupin felt himself beginning to sweat nervously. Severus knew things about him he'd never talked about.

He kept moving closer, and Remus continued to back away, keeping an arm's length between them. "Let's talk about how it felt to be shunned by everyone!" He closed in. "And how desperately afraid you were that someone at Hogwarts would find out - and tell - your - secret!"

"How did you know about the nightmares? I never even told James about that!"

Severus stopped moving and his glare lessened. "When something that horrifying happens - there are always nightmares."

Lupin narrowed his gaze. "And about losing my friends? Being shunned? - You're talking about yourself, Severus!" It had to be that! It had to be! He couldn't just know these things!

"I'm talking about you! Remus Lupin, werewolf! Oh, you were so scared that first night at Hogwarts! You got pushed around in the boat and ended up standing next to me, waiting to be Sorted - and I knew there was something different about you. You weren't like the others, you didn't know what to do with yourself."

"Neither did you!" he shot back

Snape looked animated. "No. I didn't." His black eyes glistened feverishly and bored into Lupin. "But we talked and joked - do you remember that, Lupin? - and ten minutes later you weren't scared any more. And then..." He paused and took a deep breath. "Then Potter and Black showed up. And, oh, they'd already had a time of it with me on the train! They began to tear into me again. Remember? I was such a good target! You didn't know what to do, did you? There they were, two good-looking boys, very self-assured, very certain that they were the best there was! And then there was me, looking like something the rest of the world had already used and thrown away."

Lupin turned away, remembering that. Remembering the contrast, the startling difference between James and Sirius, who had obviously come from decent families, and "Snivellus", who quite as obviously hadn't.

"It took you a while to figure out what you were going to do. I tried for years to convince myself that you made your choice quickly, without thinking it through. But you didn't. You watched and listened to them taunt me and humiliate me while everyone else in the school was paying attention to the Sorting. And they were two against one, and you were afraid that if you threw your lot in with me, they'd find out your secret and you'd never have any friends. They had the strength, didn't they, Lupin? And I stood there, that one time, and I took what they dished. And you thought I was too weak to fight back.

"Well, weren't you surprised when I did!"

"I don't want to talk about this!"

"Oh, then why don't you try some of this!" He picked up the Draught and shoved it into his face. Remus pulled back. "That will loosen your tongue, won't it? Maybe I'll ask you how you felt when Potter and Black expected you to torment me the way they did! Maybe I'll ask you about how alone you were every blessed month because you didn't know if you could trust them!"

"And I should have trusted you?"

Severus sneered. "I knew your secret."

"That's right, you did!" Remus shot back. "You knew it long before you went into the Shack that night. Tell me again, Severus, why did you go down there?"

Snape's eyes blazed. Then the fire died and he turned away and said, "I kept your secret."

"Dumbledore told you to!" Remus snapped, disappointed that, once again, he couldn't get Severus to admit to the truth about that night.

"Dumbledore told me to do a lot of things I never bothered to do! I have been keeping people's dirty little secrets for most of my life!"

Remus ignored that. "You threw your lot in with Malfoy and Mulciber and Avery! Great choices, there, Snape!"

Severus pulled back, and Remus realized immediately that that had been a low blow. He knew, not just from what Dumbledore had told him earlier this summer, but from the brief moments of friendship they had been able to create that long-ago Christmas, that Severus' connection to Malfoy and the others had not been as pleasant - or willing - as most had believed.

But Snape gathered himself together quickly, his eyes narrowing with malicious intent. "Malfoy?" he muttered, loudly enough for Remus to hear. "Malfoy, the Great Prefect of Slytherin House! Did I ever tell you? When I first came to Hogwarts, Malfoy was convinced that I had knowledge of the Dark Arts, and do you know why he thought that? Because I told him I knew every Unforgivable Curse!"

"And you did, didn't you?"

"Yes. And where do you think I learned them, Lupin?"

He decided not to answer.

"And Avery," Severus continued. "He was simply weak! He took orders from Malfoy without thinking, just like Black and Wormtail took orders from Potter!"

Interesting that Severus didn't lump him into that category.

"But all Avery wanted was the prestige of hanging around with the school's most slithering Slytherin.

"And Mulciber?" Snape snorted. "Mulciber had one talent, and only one: he was very skilled in the use of the Imperius Curse. He could even - cast it - silently!"

"I know. When he was arrest-" And Lupin stopped, reading in Severus' eyes what the man would never willingly say. "Merlin's ghost!"

"I may have known the Curses," Snape said, his voice very quiet, "but I never used them." And then he stopped. His glare dissolved and he looked away, as if he hadn't meant to say that. He moved backward and sank onto the bed and wrapped his cloak around him as if he were suddenly very cold.

"So how did you - how did you know I had a secret? That first night? No one else caught on for almost a year."

"Oh, haven't you figured that out?" he snapped. "I was a natural - a born - Legilimens," Severus said, not looking at him. "I thought everyone could tell when someone was lying to them. My 'sainted mother' certainly could!" He shivered and let out a harsh breath. "But it was Dumbledore who told me. Years after I -" He shook his head and didn't finish the sentence.

"So in addition to being on the Dark side from the moment you arrived at Hogwarts, you could also tell what other people were thinking?"

It took a long time before Severus responded. He finally looked in Lupin's direction, but his eyes weren't focused. "Do you remember doing magic before you knew what it was?" he asked quietly. "You didn't know how to control it, you couldn't always tell if you'd even done it? It was like that. I just - could tell - sometimes - things about - other people."

"So you knew my secret."

"I knew you had a secret. You know it took me a while to figure out what it was."

"Didn't you have secrets when you came to Hogwarts?" Remus asked, not wanting to think about the memories Severus' last statement was dredging up. "It seems you only sense things about other people that you share with them."

It was a dangerous thing to say, but he'd said it, and all he could do now was wait for Severus' reaction.

"Secrets." The muscles around his eyes and his lips tightened. "Oh, I had secrets. I definitely had secrets, Lupin. But no one ever tried to find out what they were."

"I did!"

There was a strange, almost sad look in Severus' eyes. "Yes. You did."

Remus looked away. They were too close to things neither of them wanted to resurrect.

Without waiting any further for a response, he left the room. He went down to the kitchen, forgetting at first that Severus had left food and drink in the parlor and had told him to avoid the kitchen. He glanced around himself, wondering what was brewing in here. He wondered how many of these things would kill, how many would injure. How many would be used on innocent victims.

How many Severus would be trying out on himself.

Before he left, he set water boiling for tea, as he'd done before. Then he went to the parlor and prepared a couple sandwiches and got a flagon of wine and a couple goblets. He wasn't sure how soberly he wanted to continue this discussion: and he was hoping desperately that he could eventually convince Severus to take the last damn dose. At the end of the next twelve hours, Remus had decided he would remain only long enough to see Severus' first deep breath, and then he would Apparate directly to London and the Black Family Home.

The past was getting uncomfortably close. For both of them.

When the water had boiled, Lupin brought the food and wine and tea back to the bedroom. Severus was still sitting on the bed, and when he looked into Snape's eyes there seemed to be no fight left in them. Remus took one of the sandwiches and stood at a safe distance.

"So - was there something between you and Lily?" he asked, as casually as he could.

"No." Severus helped himself to a goblet of wine.

"Really?" Lupin asked.

Severus sighed. "We knew each other before we went to Hogwarts. We lived in the same neighborhood. She enjoyed potions and so did I. That was all."

Remus turned away. Severus had gone to a bit of trouble to come up with that answer: and Remus was no fool. There had been something: whether it was on both their parts or not, he couldn't tell. But it had been something for Severus. Maybe the simple fact of having one friend in the world...

And then James had come along. Again.

He poured himself some tea and watched Severus down the first goblet of wine and refill it: it was the mark of someone in a lot of pain.

Lupin sat in the chair after a moment, and ate one and a half sandwiches. He hadn't realized he was that hungry until he started eating. Severus downed another goblet of wine.

"Tell you what," Remus finally said, after he'd finished the last of his sandwich. "Why don't I just take a slug of that Draught and then you can ask me anything you want. Fair enough?"

Severus looked disgusted. "I am not that interested in you, Lupin. And I certainly do not want you unconscious for twelve hours!"

"Well, you sure pay a lot more attention to others than you like them to believe."

Severus tilted his head back. "And it gives me quite an advantage over them." He drained his goblet. And filled it again!

"Take the damned Draught, will you? You need the rest."

Severus screwed up his face. "Rest? I have rested for the last day and a half. I've had enough! I need to finish -" He stopped and Remus knew not to ask him what he was working on in the kitchen.

"Well." He got up. "I guess I might as well leave you alone, then. Go back to the castle."

Severus said nothing, so he gathered his cloak and broom and the small trunk he'd kept packed. Then he remembered the books he'd borrowed and took them out of the trunk and left them sitting on the chair.

"What do you want me to tell Dumbledore if he asks about you?" He headed for the trapdoor that led to the tunnel.

He turned and caught a look on Severus' face that he hid the moment he realized he was being watched. "Tell him whatever you bloody well want. Just do not tell him where I am."

* * * July 25, 1995, mid-morning

Dumbledore had no idea yet what to do about Orestes, but he did know that avoiding the man was not the best idea. So, armed for a conflict, but hoping against one, he knocked on the Healer's door and waited.

"Albus! Well, at last, good to see you, come in." The man stepped aside to let Dumbledore in and he smiled back at the elderly wizard.

"Minerva said you'd been away," the Healer started, grabbing his wand from a side table in the room and flicking it, summoning two goblets of mulled mead. "Business for the Order?"

Dumbledore accepted the man's hospitality and took both a seat and the drink. "Some. Business for the school, too. I'm short a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Again."

Orestes chuckled and sat himself across from Albus. "I hear that job is jinxed." He took a sip of the mead. "Is that why you never gave that position to Severus? Afraid to lose him after a year?"

Dumbledore's defenses rose. "Partly. Partly, too, because he's - well, he's always been fascinated with things Dark."

"Yes, I know. Wandering through his memories was a lot like walking through the middens in the summer."

Insulting though Orestes' summary was, it was also accurate, Dumbledore confessed.

"So your trust in him isn't - complete?" Orestes asked, looking as if this were a quite innocent question. Dumbledore, however, expected this to lead right to the place Severus had intended it to lead.

"I'm not sure I'd say that," he answered carefully. "The mead is quite good, thank you," he added. "I just prefer not to put him in temptation's way."

Orestes put his mug down. "But isn't that what you're doing by letting him spy on the Dark Lord? Aren't you concerned that his loyalty may - change? He became a spy for you; why not turn on you and spy for him?"

"Oh, but he does," Dumbledore parried. "That's the only way it works. I ensure - now - that he gets good information to Voldemort."

Orestes winced at the name, and Dumbledore suddenly realized that Orestes had referred to Voldemort by the title his loyal followers used: the Dark Lord.

"Well. - If I might, Albus, I think you should be careful right now. Given his current - uh, state of mind, that is."

Dumbledore saw an opening and pounced. "Why? Has he said something? Something that makes you - concerned?"

Orestes pretended - not convincingly - to be weighing what he said. "He made a passing comment," he said, looking distressed. "Probably nothing, but - he seemed to believe he owed the Dark Lord his loyalty." He shot a sharp look at Dumbledore. "Not you."

"Hmm." The first part of Severus' plan had worked. Now to continue laying the trap. "Well, he's been sleeping for the last day or so."

"Ah!" Orestes interrupted with a smile and a gleam of victory in his eyes. "So. He took my suggestion?"

"To rest? Yes. He's using the Draught of Living Death."

"I went to check on him," Orestes said, once more drinking his mead. "Couldn't find him and Minerva didn't know where he was, either. But Madam Pomfrey said you'd requested some of that Draught. - She thought you were going to give it to Mr. Lupin." He chuckled, so Dumbledore smiled. He would have to talk to Madam Pomfrey about that. But she'd had no way of knowing Orestes was under suspicion.

"Remus volunteered to check on him," Dumbledore said casually. He drank more of the mead. "Severus didn't seem to understand why that one particular potion had caused him so much - trouble."

He wanted to give Orestes every possible chance to hang himself. So he waited.

"I don't think it was just that one potion, Dumbledore. And you," he said, leaning forward in his chair and squinting, "know that. - I saw the impressions in his mind when he came to talk with me. He took two draughts, not just that one."

"You saw that - in Severus' mind?" he repeated. "I didn't realize you were using Legilimency on him again."

Orestes' smile tightened and froze. "I'm not trying to interfere, Albus, but he is the reason I'm here, isn't he? His defenses are still weak. I wasn't intending to test them, I simply - well, when I tried to diagnose the problem," he lifted his wand and swept it up and down as a demonstration, "I became aware of that second draught. It - confused him."

Dumbledore wasn't quite sure, now, that his conclusion about Orestes was correct. Perhaps he did know about that second draught from Severus' mind. Perhaps Severus had been unaware of the fact that Orestes had found that memory. After all, the Potions master was in a great deal of pain, he might not have been aware of Orestes' skilled incursion into his mind.

"He put a lot of lovage into that second draught. I'm surprised he was able to find his way back here after taking it! The Dark Lord seems intent on - well, making his life a living hell." He drank more of his mead and looked away.

How, Dumbledore wondered, did Orestes know what was in that draught? Severus had given it only to Voldemort...

"Why do you suppose that is?" he asked calmly.

Orestes shrugged. "Punishment. Though I think he's finished with that." He looked back. "Maybe he is just testing Snape's loyalty and devotion."

"And what," he pressed gently, "do you think he'll do next time? If he keeps poisoning his faithful servant -"

"Oh, I don't think that's going to happen." He paused, squinting into his empty mug. "There are very few Death Eaters still alive and free," he pointed out. "He can't afford to completely incapacitate one of them, especially one placed so fortuitously in the camp of the Dark Lord's greatest enemy: you."

"Then why do you think he tortured him to the brink of insanity?" he asked, far more sharply than he'd intended. It still bothered him a lot that he was sending Severus into this danger.

Orestes filled his mug again with a flick of his wand, then looked at Dumbledore's mug and topped it off. "He would have known you'd call me. Or he'd have suspected it, at least. He does know the way you think, Albus."

"Does he?"

Orestes furrowed his brow. "Of course. You helped raise him. You fought him. And Severus has and is bringing him news about you. Do you think he wouldn't know how you'd react to Severus' injuries?"

The problem, as Dumbledore saw it, was that Orestes was making perfect sense, and it was impossible for him to discern which side the man was on.

"You think he took Severus to the very edge, out of anger, then returned him knowing I'd call on you to help him recover?"

Orestes nodded. "I do. And I think the Memory Charm might have been stronger than he'd expected. Mr. Malfoy took malicious pleasure in placing it, I'm sure."

"That's a terrible risk for him to have taken if he wants Severus as a spy."

Orestes shook his head. "We know the Dark Lord wants vengeance. Such strong emotion can obliterate clear thinking, as I'm sure you know. He's got a body back: I assume he's still getting used to that. Severus made a good target since he didn't Apparate immediately when the Dark Lord Summoned the rest of his followers." He sighed. "So - is the rest helping?"

Dumbledore hid his surprise at the twist in the conversation. "I believe so. But - I haven't talked to him yet."

Orestes nodded. "Well, that brings me to my next question: do you still want me to stay around? Or - are you confident in Severus' mental abilities now?"

Actually, Dumbledore thought, neither. But what he said was, "I'd appreciate it if you did stay a bit longer. Just until I'm sure about Severus."

Orestes nodded pleasantly and put his empty mug down. "Well, then. Perhaps, until we know how he is, I can volunteer my services to Madam Pomfrey."

He didn't like that idea at all. If Orestes had access to potions and potion ingredients... "Severus should be back in eleven hours or so," he said. "Why don't you just relax until then."

Squinting, Orestes nodded his head slowly. "Do let me know when he returns," he asked. He stood and Vanished everything but the mug in Dumbledore's hand.

Dumbledore left the chambers puzzled: if Orestes were on their side, why had he created the portal? And why hadn't he used it since they'd discovered it? Did he know they knew about it?

He strolled back to his office and was unpleasantly surprised to see Remus standing by the gargoyle.

"Do tell," he said, approaching the younger man. "Gobstones." The gargoyle swung out of the way.

Lupin said nothing until they got to the top of the rotating staircase. "He won't take the last dose. He kicked me out."

Dumbledore gave him a look. "Where is he?"

Lupin took a breath. "He didn't want anyone else to know. Sorry, Dumbledore, but I'm going to have keep this secret."

"I need to talk with him, Remus. Where is he?"

Lupin shook his head. The door to the office opened and they stepped inside. The door closed itself behind them.

"I've just talked with Orestes," Dumbledore said. "I can't tell for sure where he stands. I need to know where Severus is. Orestes is curious: I don't want him to find Severus unguarded. Now, where is he staying?"

Lupin thought about that, but shook his head again. "I'll go back, tell him to keep watch -"

"He told me," Dumbledore began, "that he was staying in Hogsmeade somewhere. Was that the truth?"

Lupin nodded. "Yes."

Dumbledore went to his fireplace and threw a handful of Floo powder onto the flames. "Aberforth!" he called, and waited. The Innkeeper finally appeared in the flames. "Is Severus Snape staying with you there? Does he have a room?"

"Haven't seen him, Albus. Sorry."

"Thanks." He waited until the visage dissolved, then tossed another handful of powder into the flames. "Madam Rosmerta?"

He heard Remus make a small noise behind him and glanced back.

"Albus? How are you? What can I do for you?"

"Madam Rosmerta, have you rented a room to Severus Snape?"

"No. Haven't seen him around."

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you." He turned to Remus and absentmindedly stroked his long, white beard. "So. He's at the Shrieking Shack." Remus turned a bit red.

Dumbledore broke the gaze and grabbed his broom and traveling cloak. "I'll be sure to tell him you didn't say where he was." He wrapped the cloak around his shoulders. "There's an Order meeting tonight at six," he said. "They'll be discussing recruitment, especially at Hogwarts. You might want to be there."

Remus nodded. "Dumbledore?" The headmaster waited. "His own father?"

It took a minute. "What about his father?" he asked carefully. It was a vague enough question that Remus could have been referring to any number of things. He wasn't going to give him any more than he'd already gotten from Severus.

"He killed -"

"He did not kill his father!" He felt his eyes burning with anger. "He did not!" But Tom Riddle killed his father...

Remus stared, startled by the vehemence in Dumbledore's answer. "Are you trying to convince me? Or yourself?"

Dumbledore didn't bother to answer. He left the room with Lupin still standing there. Outside, he mounted his broom and headed for the Shack.

Some ten minutes later, when he landed, he saw the building still boarded up, the windows covered, the doors sporting long beams crisscrossed and nailed to the doorjamb. But Dumbledore guessed that this was an enchantment to keep the villagers and other curiosity seekers at bay.

He figured out the way past the enchantments in less than a minute and opened the door. Inside, the front hallway was quite a surprise: everything had been fixed up fairly nicely, he thought. He went into the kitchen first and saw and smelled the potions brewing and bubbling. One cauldron held a number of still-identifiable, pickled rodent parts, so he knew it had just been started.

"Severus," he called, not very loudly. But he was heard. From the sitting room, his Potions master appeared, a book in hand, livid with anger.

"Oh, he just can't keep his mouth shut, can he?" he exploded.

"He did keep his mouth shut, Severus. I used the process of elimination to find you. It wasn't difficult." He waited until Snape calmed a bit. "How are you doing?"

"Fine." He turned away and stomped back into the parlor. Dumbledore followed.

There were a number of books pulled out in the room. On one couch in the large parlor sat half a dozen books, some opened and face down, most closed. There were a few beakers and seven small jars of plant parts.

"Good. Why don't you come back to the castle, then?"

Severus turned and sneered. "I'm a little tied up at the moment, Dumbledore, or did you think I was cooking stew for dinner?"

"Poisons for Voldemort?" he asked, ignoring the wincing pain on Severus' face when he spoke the name. "Which ones are you going to try out on yourself this time?" The bruises, he noticed, did seem lighter, and most of the swelling in Severus' face was gone, leaving the harsh, sharp lines of his normal profile.

Severus met his gaze with a steady glare. "That is up to the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore nodded unhappily. "And do you already have a time to meet next with him?"

Severus looked away. "When I have something for him."

Dumbledore looked around the room, then levitated several books from the couch and sat down. "I just spoke to Orestes," he said. "I'm not convinced of his loyalty in either direction, to be honest."

Severus leaned against the back of one of the upholstered chairs in the room. "Then we're back to my idea. Let him - ask him to continue - the exercises."

"Not until you're stronger."

"When I am stronger," he said, putting the book on a side table, "I will be able to rebuff him too easily. He won't have a chance to betray himself as he would now when I am not - as strong." He looked away and couldn't, apparently, find anything else to look at, so he closed his eyes.

Although the bruising, the swelling, the discolorations on his hands, were all looking much better, his Potions master was still obviously worn. Albus considered his next words carefully.

"I had a talk with Remus last night."

Severus looked up sharply. "I knew he'd have to spill his guts to someone. Wonder why he didn't hold out for Black."

"Because he feels badly about what he did," Dumbledore tried. "He wasn't aware of the effect-"

"Oh, stop!" He let out a harsh breath. "He made a mistake, he's very sorry... Well he can take his mistake and tie it to a Blast-Ended Skrewt for all I care!"

He swept through the room, flicking his wand and re-shelving the books. Then he turned back to Dumbledore. "Is there anything else? I have work to complete."

"Meeting of the Order at six tonight. Same place. We'll be discussing the possibility of recruiting students this year. If you want to come, you're welcome to, but it isn't necessary."

"Since my vote and opinion don't count anyway?"

Dumbledore pulled himself back from Severus' bitterness. "Give them time to trust you."

Severus snorted. "Trust? I don't think so. That can be your unique contribution to the Order from now on, Dumbledore. I don't care if anyone trusts me. Just let me do my job."

"He said he apologized," he tried. "I certainly got the impression that he was - contrite."

"Please! If you want to play the diplomat, put your energies somewhere useful, not here! Now, if you will excuse me, I have work for the Dark Lord to complete." He turned, obviously finished with the conversation, and Dumbledore watched him return to the kitchen, which was beginning emit a foul smell, before he let himself out.