Summoned

Chapter 20: Free Will

"Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able stop themselves."

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

July 26 1995, early morning

Severus dressed quickly, grabbed his cloak and wand, and went to meet Dumbledore at the northeast corner of the grounds. The Headmaster was there first and was tracing his wand through the air, trying to sense any magical residue. Severus watched from a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt his concentration.

"Well," Dumbledore finally said, turning to the Potions master, "I checked Orestes' room, of course, just to be sure. He's certainly gone, but - this portal isn't telling where to."

"Do you mind?" Severus asked, pulling his own wand and standing next to the Headmaster. "There might be something - very subtle..." He didn't want to insult the man by implying that Dumbledore's skills were any less than his own. But when it came to detecting Dark Magic, Severus was much more attuned to it than Dumbledore would be.

"Oh, no, please, go ahead," Dumbledore invited, waving his hand in the direction of the invisible charms, his typical humility evident once more.

Severus shut his eyes to concentrate, but it took nearly a minute to clear the ghostly images of his night's sleep from his thoughts. Then, once they were controlled, he reached for the energies that should be left behind, the pale remnants of whatever spells were used.

He felt - something - after his second sweep of the area, and it made the tattoo on his arm begin to burn. Dammit! He pulled away quickly, but it was too late! The spell Orestes had used had been triggered, and now the Dark Lord knew he was there, was on the other side of the portal, and his Mark burned and throbbed... He didn't need to look to know that it was darkening by the second, that he was being Summoned - now!

"Headmaster," he said, rubbing his arm unconsciously, "there was a trap. I have inadvertently sprung it!" He was angry at himself for his own stupidity. He should have anticipated that Orestes, if he were in the Dark Lord's employ, would not have left it to chance: he'd have wanted to know if his traveling were discovered.

"What do you mean?"

He struggled to contain the anger he felt at himself. "I have been Summoned. The Dark Lord knows I have found the portal." He set a long, painful gaze on Dumbledore. "I must go."

He turned away and conjured his Death Eater's cloak and the mask and his broom. He would step through the portal and end up - where?

"Severus, you can't go empty-handed," Dumbledore protested.

And then he remembered: he had at least one potion he could bring. It might placate the Dark Lord a bit. But he already knew his 'master' would be angry that he was interfering with Orestes' mission.

"I will not be empty-handed," he said shortly, and mounted his broom. "I will be back in a few minutes. You should not be here. If - I do not know what will happen when I go through. - Please."

But Dumbledore just stood there. "I'll wait for you to come back."

He didn't have time to argue. Delayed arrivals were always, predictably, punished, no matter what the reason. Severus took a deep breath, then mounted his broom and flew to the Shack: it was quicker than using the tunnel under the Willow, and time was something he had precious little of.

He grabbed two of the bottles of the Weakening Solution he'd brewed and shoved them into one of the pockets in his robes, then returned as quickly as he could to the grounds. Dumbledore was still there, and he gave Severus a long, concerned look.

"How long - do you think?"

Severus shook his head. "If I am fortunate and the Dark Lord believes that I discovered this by accident, and only just now - shortly."

Dumbledore nodded, then reached out and put a hand on Severus' arm. "Be careful, Severus. I need you."

He felt his muscles tighten beneath the touch. "If I do return - soon - what password for the gargoyle?"

"Oh, let's say chocolate frogs. We may both need some later."

Without responding, he put the mask in place, pulled his wand and took a long breath to center himself, his thoughts, and stepped into the portal...

He knew where he was this time. He recognized the dimly lit room, the dust on the floor disturbed by feet and the slithering of a snake.

"Well, Severus!"

He whirled and saw Orestes seated next to the Dark Lord at a small table that hadn't been there before. And next to the Dark Lord, on his right, was Lucius Malfoy. They sat together as if he had just interrupted some court procedure. Orestes, though, looked glassy-eyed, an expression Severus was very familiar with.

Instantly, he dropped to his knees and lowered his head. "My Lord. I come to do your bidding."

"You come because you were too curious for your own good," the Dark Lord corrected, his voice an angry hiss, and immediately the Cruciatus took him and he doubled over, fighting the pain, trying to fight the screams that rose within him, fighting the fire that claimed his still bruised body...

And then it was over and he gasped for breath and, still kneeling, forced himself upright again. "I apologize, my Lord. Please - mercy."

He heard the Dark Lord laugh and he glanced up. Lucius Malfoy was sitting there like a statue, unmoving, expect for the thin smile on his lips. No glassy-eyed look for him!

Did he know, Severus wondered, that the Memory Charm had been broken? That he knew what Lucius had done to him? Or was he sitting there so smugly because he thought his vile actions were still unknown to his victim?

"How did you discover the portal, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked. It was the question he had expected.

"My Lord, Dumbledore and his minions have been re-setting the spells around the school." He risked a quick glance at Orestes, who was looking a bit nervous. "I am sure your faithful servant, Orestes, has told you."

The Dark Lord made a sound Severus couldn't interpret.

"I became aware only this evening that Dumbledore had placed an alarm on the portal. He called me to check it with him. It was then you Summoned me. I Apparated as soon as I could do so without making Dumbledore suspicious."

"Sadly, it seems my servant Orestes can no longer use the portal to visit me. I will have to consider what to do now. He is too old, you see, to Apparate without assistance, and the portal provided him that. Yes, I will have to work on that problem." He turned to Orestes and stroked the man's cheek with his long fingernail.

"Remove your mask, Severus."

He did. The Dark Lord rose and came to stand just in front of him. He felt the slitted eyes bore into him. He knew that the truth was hidden. But the Dark Lord probed more deeply, looking for something, hungry for pain, hungry to humiliate, to punish, to torture...

"Ah, you have been most useful to me, my Severus," he said at length and moved back to the bare wooden table.

"I am honored, my Lord."

"What do you bring me?" he asked suddenly, and Severus hid his surprise. Was that what he'd gone looking for? Whatever the answer, he quickly pulled the bottles from his cloak.

"These, my Lord." He held the bottles up, but he was too far from the table to be able to give them to him directly, and drawing his wand without permission would cost him dearly.

The Dark Lord waved his hand and one of the bottles floated to him. He held it, turned it in his hand, then gave it to Orestes. "What is in this, my faithful one?" he asked, his voice still low and slippery.

Orestes took the bottle and pulled the stopper. He sniffed it carefully and then put the stopper back in. "It has only a faint odor, my Lord. It could be any number of things."

The Dark Lord made another noise in his throat and took the bottle. "Tell me, Severus. What have you created for my pleasure?"

"A Weakening Solution, my Lord. It will remove most of the magical strength and abilities from the one who drinks it."

The crack in the face where the mouth was moved upward in a grin. "And will you demonstrate this for me, my dear Severus?"

He had known this was coming. "I would be honored, my Lord," he said quietly. "However, Dumbledore is concerned that I have returned to him weak and injured twice. He has already voted against allowing me to continue spying for him, though the rest of the Order did not. His pathetic sense of compassion continues to interfere with his judgment. - I fear that he will no longer invite me to the meetings of the Order if I do not return as strong as when I left him this time." Then he unstoppered the bottle in his hand. "But I do your bidding, my Lord, no matter what consequence it brings."

"No," the snake-man said. He held up his long-fingered hand. "You have a good point. I don't want to lose your services while you are still - regaining my trust."

He felt his throat tighten. Whatever was coming, it wasn't going to be any better than taking the draught himself, he suddenly realized.

The Dark Lord stood. "As you see, my beloved Lucius has now been completely forgiven and returned to my side, where he belongs. He has made great progress infiltrating the Ministry for me, and he is being rewarded."

Oh, Merlin! Not another reward for Lucius!

He didn't hide that thought quickly enough: the Dark Lord's eyes turned angry and he rounded the table and stood directly in front of him. "You would like to be rewarded, wouldn't you, my servant? Would you like to please me? Or will I let you please Lucius?"

"I will do your bidding, my Lord" he said, his throat dry. "I will please - whomever you wish me to please."

The Dark Lord reached down and tilted Severus' chin back. He probed his thoughts, found some fear, but also found his total desire to please.

"Good, Severus, very good. - Tonight, I will not require a sacrifice. Tomorrow, at this time, I will."

He kept his expression still, his thoughts hidden. He didn't move. The Dark Lord traced his fingernail down his throat in the sickening, familiar gesture that always foretold something ugly was about to come

"I will hold these bottles until tomorrow," the Dark Lord said, taking the second bottle from Severus' hand. "Tomorrow, at this time, you will return to me: you will bring me someone to test this on."

"Does my Lord desire a wizard or a Muggle?" he asked. His intestines were crawling with nausea.

"Oh, a wizard, only a wizard!" He made a laughing, cackling sound. "What good would it be on a Muggle?"

"If my Lord will permit me to speak..."

"Speak!"

"If used on a Muggle, the potion will likely cause a coma or death. Painful and - entertaining in either case."

The Dark Lord considered his answer. "Amusing perhaps, but hardly useful at this point. You will bring me a wizard or a witch to test this on. Someone whose strength is known to you. Someone who will be - weakened? - by this potion."

"Yes, my Lord. Would that I could bring you the Potter boy."

"Ah, yes, that would be a prize. But you cannot. - Can you?"

"No, my Lord. He is still protected by the Blood Magic Dumbledore invoked on his aunt's house so many years ago. While there, we cannot touch him." Just to make sure the Dark Lord hadn't forgotten that.

The Dark Lord went back to his seat with Orestes and Lucius. "You will, of course, say nothing to Dumbledore about my servant, Orestes. He must remain at Hogwarts for a little longer."

Severus nodded. "Is there some way in which I might assist him in his mission there, my Lord?"

The Dark Lord glanced at the Healer. "I think he is doing fine on his own, Severus. Now, return to your dungeons. And do not fail to bring me a wizard tomorrow!"

* * *

"And how do you propose to do that?" Dumbledore asked hours later, when he finally had the internal strength to face him. It was dawn, and the grey-pink light that filtered into Dumbledore's office seemed to foretell foul weather.

"I have no idea, yet."

Dumbledore and he were both chewing chocolate frogs and drinking tea. He was glad for the food, for a change. He finished his third frog and rubbed his face. "The potion is not fatal. Nor do the effects last more than a day or two."

He waited, but Dumbledore said nothing.

And he heard himself form the awful plan. "Perhaps - a volunteer?"

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened and then turned fiery. "A volunteer? To go with you to Voldemort and place himself under the effects of a Weakening Solution for who knows how long, knowing full well that Voldemort will likely kill him in the end?" He shot form his chair and Severus, still feeling the pain from the use of the Dark Lord's name, closed his eyes and sighed.

"I must - bring someone!" He had, of course, already considered returning alone: offering himself for the test, explaining that he had not been able to find anyone whose absence could be explained to Dumbledore. That he was unwilling to expose himself as an agent of the Dark Lord, and would more willingly die at the Dark Lord's hands than to risk betraying him to the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

And, just as quickly, he realized that that, in fact, would simply be the case: he would be killed. Not quickly. But without a volunteer, that was the only choice he seemed to have.

Dumbledore paced his room silently for nearly a minute. Severus finished his tea and began to realize how very tired he was. And how loathe he was to return to sleep and face the nightmares that awaited him.

"I will call a meeting of the Order for this afternoon," the Headmaster finally said. He had pulled his Pensieve from wherever he normally kept it and was staring into the silvery reflection of thoughts he had placed there. "You will have to come, of course." He turned and looked at Severus. "Perhaps, if we all try together, we might find a way..." He turned back to staring into his Pensieve. "I cannot see a way around this, Severus. I cannot see how - I think you must consider that we will have to hide you."

He felt his fury grow hot very, very fast. "I will not be hidden!" he yelled. He crossed the room and opened the door. "I will not leave his service or yours!" He slammed the door behind him and strode rapidly through the corridors to the stairs that led to his dungeon rooms.

Then, inside his office, he swept off the cloak and tossed it and his mask into his bedchamber and went to his desk. There, the mundane work of his position as instructor at Hogwarts waited for him.

Two hours later, he had calmed himself a bit by wading through nearly half the exquisitely stupid writings of his fourth year students. Then, having graded them all rather generously, he thought (only four students received "T's", and there was not a Weasley or a Potter among them), he went to shower and change and, after that, he summoned some food from the kitchen.

He was eating when a knock on the door finally interrupted him. He flicked his wand to open it and was only a little surprised to see the Healer there.

"Well, Severus, you look much better," the man said, and as he spoke, Severus tried a very gentle incursion into his thoughts. As he had suspected, the man had no memory of having been in the presence of the Dark Lord. Whatever he was doing here, he was doing it under either the Imperius or a Befuddlement Curse.

Dumbledore would be relieved to learn that.

"Thank you, Orestes. Your advice was sound. - Would you like some lunch?" he asked, gesturing to the nearly untouched fruit and cheese and bread which were his staples when he wasn't required to eat at the high table in the Great Hall.

"Oh, no, no, thank you, Dumbledore and I have just had lunch."

Oh?

"He asked me, since I wanted to come check on you anyhow, to tell you he'd like to see you. - Are you still working on grading papers?" he asked, moving into the room.

"Sadly, yes." Severus got up and grabbed his wand which had been lying on the desk. "I appreciate your bringing me the message, Orestes. - How are you feeling? You look - tired."

"Oh, I'm just suffering from advanced middle-age," the man tried to joke, but Severus could see in his eyes the troubled look of one who feels he's forgotten something important.

He moved toward the door and, slowly, Orestes pulled himself from his thoughts and followed.

They parted ways at the junction that led either to Dumbledore's office or to the room where the Healer was staying. Orestes said nothing on the way and merely held a hand up in a lazy wave as they parted.

Dumbledore was dressed in his traveling cape and had his broom in hand. Next to him was Minerva, also ready to travel. "I thought we should have as many members present as possible," Dumbledore said, as a way of explaining the rare presence of Professor McGonagall.

She was looking at him with a strange expression and for the first time in days he remembered the feeling that, while he'd been in the hospital, she had been party to the attacks of Legilimency on his mind. He didn't really want to know for sure.

"How are you feeling, Severus?" she asked, but her tone was reserved and cool. He appreciated that.

"Much better, thank you." He looked at the Headmaster. "Are we ready, then."

"Just about. I should have asked earlier, but do you have another sample of this Weakening Solution that you can bring to the meeting?"

His guard went up. "Why?"

"Do you?"

He considered lying, but thought better of it before he spoke. "I can get some. I don't have it - here." He hoped Dumbledore would not reveal his use of the Shrieking Shack to Minerva. Part of the reason he'd chosen that location was to ensure complete privacy and the impossibility that anyone would accidentally happen upon something dangerous.

Dumbledore nodded. "Please do. We'll meet you at the place," he said obliquely, though, of course, McGonagall knew the location as well as he did.

He nodded and followed them out of the room. He flew to the Shack and gathered another bottle of the brew. Then he left and Apparated to the Black family house.

* * * July 26, 1995, afternoon

"Call the meeting to order, Dumbledore?" Arthur asked. It was 3:45, less than twelve hours since Severus had faced Voldemort. Everyone was at the meeting who was going to be able to make it. Tonks and Kingsley were both working and weren't able to get off. Arthur had taken a half-day of sick leave, since Dumbledore had felt someone from within the Ministry should be at every meeting.

Moody was there, though he sat in his usual shroud of silence, and would probably have little to say at the meeting. He'd probably have a great deal to say after the meeting, though: that was his way.

Molly, obviously, had been interrupted in her cleaning out of the place, as had Sirius. Both of them looked as if they'd been battling far more than cobwebs and spiders. Dumbledore knew that all manner of Dark creatures had spent years in this abandoned building. He could hear the sounds of rummaging and cleaning going on in one of the rooms above them: presumably, Molly was keeping Ron and Hermione and the other Weasley offspring busy with these tasks.

Remus, whose specialty was Dark creatures, and who lived here as well now, looked a bit ragged. But he was also coming up to the full moon tomorrow, and Dumbledore knew that the stress of the waxing moon was difficult on him.

"I thought you said Snape was going to be here?" Sirius asked, his voice sharp as it always was when he spoke to or about Severus. "Isn't he the reason we're all taking time out from our regular pursuits?"

"He should be here presently," Dumbledore said, ignoring the man's acerbic tone. "I asked him to make a detour on the way."

"Has he had another meeting with You-Know-Who?" Arthur asked.

Dumbledore glanced quickly at Minerva, then nodded. "We'll discuss that at the meeting."

"Is he alright?" Remus asked.

"What do you care?" Sirius snapped back, lowering his chair from the rocking position on the back legs.

"He's a human being," Remus said forcefully. "And a member of this Order. He's one of us, Sirius, like it or not."

"I will not believe he's one of us. Ever." He turned to Dumbledore. "Unless you care to tell us what it is that has you so convinced he is."

Dumbledore found it more difficult to ignore Sirius' tone this time, and he was about to respond when Sirius continued.

"I know Snape," he said, addressing everyone at the table. Remus cringed and glanced at Dumbledore, apparently remembering his own identical claim a little more than a fortnight ago. "The man is a vindictive, angry, bitter -" He stopped as a shadow covered the table from the doorway and everyone at the table turned.

"Oh, please," Severus said, his voice filled with acid, "do continue. Let me guess whom you are describing." He moved into the room and pulled off his cloak. His face, still disfigured by now-fading bruises, still caused a reaction from Molly. "It must be either the Dark Lord or me," he said, taking his seat. "Not much difference between us, is there, Black?"

"Severus!" Dumbledore chided, and got a brief glowering look.

"No," Sirius responded instantly. "There isn't."

"Sirius," Arthur scolded. Then he looked around. "Shall we call the meeting to order now?"

They did, and after the quill had taken down the required information, Arthur turned the meeting over to Dumbledore.

"I've asked you all here for two reasons. If you will indulge me, I'd like to begin with the one I feel will be easier to deal with."

There were nods around the table. Severus was sitting with his hands folded on the table in front of him, his face expressionless.

"Last night - well, early this morning - Orestes used the portal." He waited for the anticipated murmurs to quiet before continuing. "When Severus and I went to check it, there was a -" He hesitated and looked to Severus to explain it.

Visibly reluctant to speak, the Potions master said, "There was a similar alarm that alerted the Dark Lord that we had found the portal. I was Summoned."

"Knew it!" Black exulted.

"Knew what?" Minerva asked, her words clipped irritably.

"It's just another way for him to carry information to You-Know-Who even when we aren't sending him. Only now, of course, he's been caught out."

"Sirius!" Remus exclaimed. "You're getting as paranoid as -" He stopped suddenly, but Alastor just chuckled.

"As paranoid as me," he finished, apparently not taking offense. Then he fixed his magical eye on Severus. "It's a mighty handy thing to have around, isn't it?" he asked. "Able to come and go as you please?"

"Severus had nothing to do with the creation of that portal!" Dumbledore said. "He couldn't come and go, as you put it, without alerting me, as we just discussed. The alarms -"

"Were set just a couple days ago, Albus," Alastor interrupted. "Could've used it a lot before then, couldn't he?"

"When?" Remus asked, leaning forward, much more agitated than usual. "When would he have been doing that, Alastor? When he was unconscious in the hospital wing? While he was recovering and could barely think straight, much less move? Or maybe he was coming and going after he was poisoned?"

"Lupin." Severus' quiet word caught the werewolf's attention, and Snape shook his head. Remus took a breath and leaned back in his chair. Sirius shot his friend a quick, suspicious look, then turned the same gaze on Severus.

"Constant vigilance is one thing, Alastor," Dumbledore said calmly. "But we have already voted to trust Severus. Please, let's move on."

The former Auror grumbled something unintelligible and Sirius simply continued to glare at Severus.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, indicating that he should continue.

"Orestes was there, with the Dark Lord. But - his expression, his actions, lead me to believe he was either Imperiused or Confunded. Or, perhaps, he was under the effects of the Befuddlement Draught I had taken to the Dark Lord the last time."

"How sure are you?" Arthur asked.

"Reasonably. - Unless he was acting, and I can see no reason for him to have been. The Dark Lord was quite open in letting me know that Orestes would be remaining at Hogwarts for a while longer, though he won't, of course, use the portal again now that they know Dumbledore knows about it. I tried to discover what his mission there was, but I was unsuccessful."

"Not really back in the fold after all, Snive- Snape?"

Dumbledore felt his anger at Sirius growing. It was one thing for the two of them to hold onto their adolescent grudges: it was another to deliberately tear into Severus when he was acting as a member of the Order. He decided it was time to say something to Sirius about it: after the meeting.

Severus, for his part, didn't respond at all.

"So," Alastor jumped in, "what're you planning on doing about it?"

"I'm open for suggestions," Dumbledore said, "but at the moment I think nothing. So far, he's done nothing to compromise us."

"Except that he spent a lot of time rummaging through Severus' mind," Remus pointed out. He glanced at the Potions master. "Could he have been - I don't know, making things worse?"

"It is hard to imagine it being worse." A shudder went through Severus and his words came out slow and quiet. Dumbledore was surprised by the admission. "And if that was what he was doing, it hasn't - permanently affected me."

"That we know of," Alastor added. He turned to Dumbledore. "Couldn't he have planted suggestions? Maybe instructions Snape's not aware of? Or manipulated his memories somehow, for You-Know-Who's benefit? Maybe planted false memories?"

Dumbledore sighed. It was, in fact, remotely possible. He doubted it: what he hadn't been part of Minerva had been: not that he wanted that to come out at this meeting. Or ever.

"I seriously doubt he had the opportunity or capability to do that."

"And how would you know?" Sirius asked. He ran his fingers through his long, dark locks and pushed the lush curtains back from his face.

"I was there for the majority of it, Sirius, as you know." He felt the anger rising again: Black was trying to find a reason to embarrass or trick Severus. Without his old arsenal of jinxes and hexes to fall back on, and with twelve long years of bitterly sitting in Azkaban for a crime he had not committed, Sirius seemed intent on avenging himself on Severus. As Severus had been intent on avenging himself on Sirius, a year ago.

"And for the rest? Did Orestes go wandering around in Severus' murky mind without your help? Couldn't he have planted suggestions -"

"When Albus was unavailable, I was there," Minerva cut in, her voice sharp and authoritative, the tone she used to shut up bickering students. "Either Albus or I acted to augment the Legilimens in every case. If Orestes had tried to plant information or manipulate the memories, we would have been aware of it!"

That wasn't actually true, Dumbledore knew, but he didn't think there had been any such actions on Orestes' part and he wanted to move away from this topic as soon as he could. He glanced at Severus and saw that he had gone deathly white at Minerva's revelation.

Boggarts! He tried to meet the Potions master's gaze, but the man wasn't looking at anyone. He was staring at the table. Intently.

"He wants to die because he's embarrassed?" Minerva had asked two weeks ago. Dumbledore had never discussed with Severus how much Minerva had been in on during those Legilimency probes. And Severus had never asked.

And now he knew: whatever he might have suspected, he could no longer pretend that Minerva didn't know far too much.

Well, you drew blood, Sirius, he thought. I hope you're happy. With any luck, the man would sense it and back off now.

"Then why do you think he's there?" Arthur asked. He seemed to be one of the few people in the room who wasn't out to prove a point.

"I don't know. The best we've come up with is that Voldemort -" he paused when he saw Severus wince. "Sorry. That he knew - he anticipated that Severus would need - Orestes' help when he returned to Hogwarts. That he wanted him there - perhaps to make sure Severus recovered. Without Orestes, I can guarantee you, Severus would be at St. Mungo's now."

"Too bad he's not," Sirius muttered.

"What are you going to do, then?" Arthur asked quickly, before anyone could react to Sirius' comment.

"As I said, at the moment, nothing. Minerva and I will be keeping a very close watch on him, of course. But Severus wasn't supposed to report his presence with Voldem- ort," he finished, remembering too late the pain it caused Severus. "So I can't act on what he's told us." He looked around, and saw no dissent visible on their faces.

"And, this last time," he launched, "when Severus went to meet - him - he brought another draught." He nodded to Severus, who produced a small bottle from his robes.

"What's it do?" Sirius asked.

"A Weakening Solution," Severus answered. "It is not fatal, and the effects are not long-term. It reduces a wizard's ability to practice magic. It lasts for a day, perhaps two."

"Did you try that one, too?" Alastor asked.

"No. I offered, but I also pointed out that Dumbledore was beginning to be reluctant to use me as a spy since I keep returning to him - uh, weakened."

"So?" Sirius asked.

"So - I am to return to him tonight with a wizard on whom the Dark Lord can test this."

There were cries of astonishment and horror from around the table. Both Dumbledore and Severus waited for the din to die down.

"So..." Remus asked. "You looking for a volunteer?"

"Yes." Severus glanced at Dumbledore, who stepped in.

"I can't think of another way," he said. "I asked Severus to bring this sample so that someone here could try it out - I'll try it, if no one else will. That way we can all see what the effects will be."

"And once we're there, and we've drunk this stuff, and we're too weak to defend ourselves, then what, Snape?" Sirius demanded.

"Then, because the person who does this will be a member of the Order, and since that person's disappearance would put me under suspicion from Dumbledore, and I would lose my usefulness to the Dark Lord if that happened, I shall beg for his - or her - life and we will return together."

"Nice plan," Sirius said. "But you're in the wrong room for volunteers, Snape. Try someone at St. Mungo's who's already lost their mind!"

"I'll try the sample," Molly said. Everyone turned to her.

"Molly, no, you can't -"

"Arthur, I'm the one here who least needs her magic for a day or so. I'm just cleaning up around here and having my magic a bit off - well, I can get the kids to do more of the work!" She chuckled. So, surprisingly, did Sirius.

Severus slid the bottle toward her on the table, but he didn't look at her. "It will, as I say, simply make your magic weak, not you. You shouldn't feel any effect. You'll only notice that it's working when you try to cast a spell."

Everyone in the room sat very tensely as Molly gave a brave smile and uncorked the bottle. "Well, dears, bottoms up, eh?" She slugged it down in one gulp and then gave a surprised look at everyone, finally lingering on Severus. "It has no taste."

"No," the Potions master agreed.

They all sat waiting, and Molly began to look embarrassed as all eyes were turned on her. "Well," she asked, "how long is it going to take to work?"

"About ten minutes," Severus said. "Do you feel anything, Molly?"

Dumbledore did: he felt a quicksilver surprise at the familiar way Severus spoke to her.

The woman shook her head. "No. Nothing at all. Shall I try a spell now?"

"Not yet." Severus turned back to the group. "Headmaster, perhaps we could continue the discussion while we wait?"

"Yes, by all means, Severus."

"Since Molly has tried the sample, obviously, she cannot be the one to accompany me. I would have been loathe to take her in any case."

"Why? She remind you of your Mummy?" Sirius asked.

Dumbledore held his breath: so, obviously, did Remus.

Severus, by whatever strength of will he had left, merely glared silently at Sirius and refused to rise to the bait. What Black knew or didn't know, Dumbledore had no idea. But the fact that Severus did not respond had to tell Sirius he'd struck a nerve.

"I need someone whose disappearance would be noticeable," Severus finally continued. "Shacklebolt, Tonks, and Arthur, since they are working in the Ministry, cannot be compromised. We do not want the Dark Lord knowing our strength there."

He turned and looked at Alastor. "Moody would provide too great a temptation to the Dark Lord to do - other things. I do not think I could get him out without harm."

"I'll do it, Severus."

Remus' offer was, Dumbledore thought, exactly what Severus had probably been waiting for. He was surprised, therefore, when Severus shook his head.

"Unfortunately," he began, actually giving the werewolf a fairly intense look, "you are not that important to the business of the Order at this point. Please, do not take offense. But your work is primarily with the werewolf packs. That's not a compelling enough reason to convince the Dark Lord to release you unharmed for my sake."

"Got your eye on me, then?" Black asked, a smirk of self-satisfaction dancing around his lips.

"No."

That surprised Dumbledore.

"Your importance to the Order may be severely limited, but it is your house that is headquarters for the Order. That is not an argument I can make to the Dark Lord. Obviously."

He turned and looked at Dumbledore and sighed. "And, of course, it could not be you."

He waited and finally, when Dumbledore and the rest had already done so, he turned to Minerva. "I am sorry, Professor," he said, very formally. "But you would be perfect. You are Assistant Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration Professor. You are far too important to damage. And yet, by bringing so highly-placed a witch, the Dark Lord should be quite pleased with my efforts. I will therefore not only regain a better position in his service, but I should also have no trouble bringing you back unharmed."

"Had this all worked out beforehand, did you?"

Severus turned slowly to Black. "I thought it through on the way here, yes. Why waste valuable time with what might have been, given the type of people who make up this group, useless offers of self-sacrificing volunteerism, when there are not really any choices in the end?"

Minerva looked a bit pale, but she nodded. "You make good sense, Severus."

Dumbledore shook his head. He wasn't at all happy, but unfortunately he couldn't fault Severus' logic. "There's something we haven't considered," he launched. "How will - he allow her to return once he's tested that potion on her? After seeing him..."

"I expect to put a Memory Spell around the experience," Snape said quietly, looking from the Headmaster to Minerva. "At least, that is what I plan to suggest to him." His words were steady, his voice carefully modulated, and Dumbledore knew this was costing him a great deal. He had no idea what this would cost Minerva.

"I will also suggest that I be allowed the - honor - of placing it: that way, I can make sure no damage is done."

The mood around the table had dampened considerably. Even Sirius seemed to have run out of remarks. It was, therefore, with a sense of relief, that Molly Weasley piped up and said, "Well. Shall I test it now, Professor, do you think?"

"Yes, Molly, by all means."

She pulled her wand and aimed it at the plate of ginger biscuits she'd put in the center of the table (which, Dumbledore noticed, no one had touched). "Wingardium Leviosa!" she exclaimed.

The plate rose sluggishly, about a half inch off the table, then dropped back. There were quiet chuckles around the room.

"Well," she said, actually blushing with embarrassment, as if it had been her own skill that was at fault. "I'll try another, shall I?" She looked around and then fixed her gaze on Sirius. Waving her wand in the arc to include his dusty garments, she said, "Scourgify!" A light breeze wafted the edges of his shirt sleeves, but that was all that happened.

"Do you feel alright, Molly?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh, quite fine, Albus, quite fine." She turned with a little chuckle to Severus. "This is the sort of potion I'd expect Fred and George to come up with! Not you!"

There was laughter from most of the group, but neither Dumbledore nor Minerva joined. Albus guessed that they both realized this was also the kind of potion Severus probably had created during his student days. And then he realized Sirius wasn't laughing, either.

Severus' face was unreadable.

"Well," Minerva said, her voice a bit weak, "I guess the discussion is over."

"Not quite." Arthur turned to Dumbledore. "Shouldn't we put this to a vote?"

"Shouldn't you all realize," Alastor cut in, "that we haven't seen the long-term effects this might have on Molly for the full time she's under it. A day, didn't you say, Snape? Or two? Before it wears off, how do we know other things won't happen?"

"I doubt this is the first time Severus has made this potion," Remus said, leaning forward. He looked at the Potions master and got a nod. "If he says this is the only effect, I believe him. I don't think he'd put any of us in any unnecessary danger."

"Really?" Sirius snapped, glaring at his friend. "And since when did you become such a staunch defender of Snivellus?"

"Sirius!" Dumbledore slammed a hand on the table. He'd lost his patience with this, and was not going to wait until after the meeting. "You will refer to Professor Snape by name or title only, am I clear? We are united here together for one cause, and while we are in meetings, or working on business for the Order, each of us will treat the others with respect! You don't have to like him, but you will show him respect! Everyone here will do so! Am I clear on that?"

The silence was terribly awkward, but Dumbledore didn't care. He actually received an unpleasant sneer from Severus, which he had half-expected. The man didn't want anyone standing up for him. But this was a matter that affected the Order as a whole. If any of them could start using derogatory terms without being called on it, the unity and strength of the group would be compromised. It wasn't a question of manners at this point: it was a question of survival.

Satisfied that everyone in the room was feeling uncomfortable, he turned to Arthur. "I suppose a vote is in order."

"No." Minerva surprised them all. She looked around the room. "Severus has made a logical and clear argument. I'm willing to go. I don't think the rest of the group needs to take it upon themselves to make that decision for me." She paused and gave Arthur a very long look. "I trust Severus. I know he will do everything he can to protect me. And as a member of this Order, I joined knowing the risks, just as everyone else here did." She looked back at Severus. "I'll talk with you after the meeting?"

He nodded once.

Arthur looked from Dumbledore to Alastor, and then to Sirius and Remus. "Well. I guess we might as well close the meeting. Please note," he said, addressing the Quill, "that Professor Minerva McGonagall has volunteered, of her own free will, to accompany Professor Severus Snape to meet with - Voldemort - and to put herself completely in his hands."

Technically, Dumbledore thought, he should have called for that last sentence to be rephrased: it wasn't clear into whose hands Arthur meant Minerva was putting herself.

Then he realized it didn't matter. She would be completely helpless in either case.