Summoned

Chapter 23: Mind Games (Part 1: The Book)

"You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. ... I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you."

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

July 27, 1995, evening

"Severus!" Minerva's unthinking reaction to Snape's news caught everyone's attention. Not that everyone at the table had known Lily, but that she had finally spoken was enough to silence the rest of the exclamations of disgust and horror.

Almost as the word was out, she put her hand up to her lips and lowered her head even further.

Snape had started so drastically that those who weren't staring at her were staring at him. But Sirius, whose reaction Remus had been dreading, looked mostly puzzled, as if he felt he should be able to place the voice, but couldn't. In any case, it didn't occupy him for long.

"All morning?" he said to Severus. "Try twelve years!"

Severus turned very slowly from Minerva to glower at him, though his glower wasn't really even half its normal strength. "I am not trying to play 'Who Has Suffered More' with you, Black. You are the undisputed champion and I assure you I have no desire to vie for that position. I mentioned it only to warn you that they are no longer completely under the Ministry's control. The Dark Lord spoke as if he would soon be unleashing them elsewhere." He paused and took several deep breaths.

Albus was shaking his head. "I am sick of seeing this, Severus," he said, his words dangerously quiet. "Every time you meet with him, he does something-"

And then Snape's eyes flared with an actual, emotional response. "Do you think," he began, his voice lowered, his words coming slowly, "that any follower of the Dark Lord goes before him and doesn't expect at least one use of the Cruciatus? At least one! If the Dark Lord is in a good mood and feeling generous!"

"Then why do you keep going back?" Arthur asked.

Severus turned to him. "It is what I do. It is my job. Regular punishment, with or without a reason, is a normal part of service to him. I am used to it. I have been used to the Cruciatus since I was a -" He didn't cut off his sentence fast enough for Remus.

The werewolf hoped it had been fast enough for the others to assume he was going to say something about his first days as a Death Eater.

"Did he use the Cruciatus this time?" Remus asked quickly, hoping to keep anyone at the table from lingering on the possible endings of Severus' statement.

Severus narrowed his gaze ungratefully. "Yes."

"I've had a suspicion about the dementors for a while," Kingsley said, rescuing everyone from the unpleasant silence that followed Snape's answer. "One of my - well, someone who trusts me at work but isn't about to become a member of the Order - she said she'd overheard murmurings about the dementors leaving Azkaban."

"This is not good," Moody said.

"Dealing with the dementors has never been good," Dumbledore pointed out. "Anything else, Severus?"

The man shook his head, carefully, it seemed. Then he turned once more to Remus. "As I said, however, you do not want to be anywhere that Fenrir can find you tonight or tomorrow."

And once again Remus nodded. And he saw, for the second time this evening, what looked clearly like disappointment on Severus' face.

He was pondering that when Moody said, "Since Lucius Malfoy is so close to Fudge, ye might want to keep an extra close eye on Draco this year, Snape. Not that I'm trying to tell you how to do yer job," he added sarcastically, a hint of the brogue he often reverted to creeping into his words. He took a gulp from his hop flask, as if to punctuate his statement.

"I always keep a close watch on Draco."

"I thought he was just one of your favorites," Arthur mused.

"He is his father's son."

Arthur seemed to miss the look in Severus' eyes that flashed too quickly to be noticed by anyone who didn't know what to look for. Remus did.

"If I wish to learn what the father is up to, I need to remain close to the son. I will hardly get the results I need by subjecting Draco to harsh treatment." He glanced around the room, but no one had anything else to say on the subject. "Is that all, then?"

"No." Sirius leaned forward and turned to Dumbledore. "Harry," he said, "is going out of his mind with frustration and boredom. Ron and Hermione are almost as frustrated - and angry - that they aren't being allowed to tell him anything. - Please, Dumbledore, we must be able to do something for him!"

Albus met Sirius' eyes for several long seconds, then shook his head. "I can't risk it, Sirius, not right now. And if the dementors are loosed from Azkaban?" He shook his head again. "I will talk with Ron and Hermione myself after the meeting. I'll try to explain to them that - it's much safer right now for Harry to know nothing."

Sirius shook his head and leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs, his anger visible. "I think you're wrong about all of this, Dumbledore. Harry should be here, with the rest of us. He should be informed about what's going on."

"I agree," Severus said quietly.

That brought a few surprised reactions. Including Remus', "What?"

"I have said it before: Potter is too likely to get himself into trouble on his own if he is not told what is happening. He has the same tendency his father had -" he glared at Sirius, " - to act, without thinking through the consequences of his actions, either to himself or to his friends."

Remus squirmed, but Sirius was oblivious to Snape's implications. He did, however, catch the slur on James.

"James did not-" he began, but Dumbledore cut him off with an upraised hand.

"This is not the time to discuss the past." He looked at Severus. "As long as Harry's in his aunt's house, he is safe from anything Voldemort can try to do. He is not as safe here." He sighed. "I'll talk with Ron and Hermione," he repeated. "Anything else?"

"Just one question," Tonks said, her voice quiet, her hair turning a dark brown. They waited, but it wasn't until Severus turned to her that she spoke again. "If I'm out of line, Professor, just say so, but - if he's quite as horrible to his 'faithful servants' as you say he is, why did you ever decide to follow him?"

"The question is out of line," Dumbledore said quickly. "Arthur, strike that from the record!" he ordered.

A little taken aback, Arthur turned to the quill. "Remove Tonks' last question and Professor Dumbledore's response. - Okay?"

Dumbledore nodded. Severus hadn't blinked.

"If that's all then..."

They closed the meeting and Snape headed for the door too rapidly for anyone to catch him.

Professor McGonagall wasn't so fortunate. Sirius rounded the table quickly and put his hand on her arm, and stopped her escape.

"Professor, your voice - I know it, I just can't place it. Who -?"

Remus caught up to them as quickly as he could and stepped between them, removing Sirius' hand from her arm. "Let it go, Sirius. Trust me, just let it go!"

Sirius had not been doing well the last few days, Remus knew, and his own absence from the house hadn't helped. Nor would the decision he'd made during the meeting: but that he'd break to Sirius later.

It was no secret to anyone that being here in this place was only fractionally better for Sirius than being in Azkaban. The memories the house held, his mother's vicious portrait, and Kreacher's treacherous attitude were hardly better than dementors.

Remus chose to believe that his excessive desire to attack Severus at every chance grew largely out of that: he was stuck in a hellhole with nothing practical that he could do, unable to leave the house for fear of being spotted and arrested for the crimes he had not yet been cleared of.

But Professor McGonagall had been through her own ordeal, and she deserved to be left alone: what she had volunteered for had turned out much worse than she could possibly have imagined. He guessed that she'd have been happy for a Cruciatus Curse instead of being turned into the likeness of Lily Evans Potter.

Sirius wasn't happy with him for interfering, but McGonagall took the opportunity to leave before anyone else tried to stop her. He waited until she was out the front door, then he turned back to his friend.

"Sirius, I know you feel trapped -"

"Don't - even try!" Sirius snapped at him. He exhaled loudly. "What are you doing cozying up to Snivellus for, anyway?"

That stung: it hit the old fears of losing the friends who mattered most to him by befriending Severus. It was depressing to realize he was still facing the same threat more than twenty years later. "I'm not cozying up to him," he said calmly.

Remus suddenly became aware of the fact that several members of the Order - including Moody - were watching and listening to them as they stood in the doorway to the now-empty meeting room. He grabbed Sirius' arm and pushed him back into the room and closed the door.

"You've taken his side in nearly every meeting," Sirius accused. "You're spending a lot of time at Hogwarts, and Moody told me it's not all just to help Dumbledore. - What's Snivellus got you involved in?"

He sighed. He'd seen this coming for almost a week now. It didn't help, though. "Sirius, I'm not taking Severus' side. I'm trying to help Dumbledore and if that means giving Severus a hand -"

"Yeah, doing what? Watching him sleep? That's just a little strange, isn't it? Or did you crawl back into bed with him?"

Remus took four long breaths before he dared answer that. Sirius was hitting far below the belt! "Watching over him while he was in a coma," he said slowly. "He couldn't stop bleeding, Sirius, he was going to die. If he'd been left on his own and You-Know-Who had Summoned him..? Come on, try to think past your anger, will you? Severus can't, but I'd thought you would!"

"Oh, poor Snivellus!" Sirius snapped. "Injured and poisoned and tortured... And what does he bring to the table? The most pathetic shreds of information! Kingsley has better stuff to offer! Snape has been sitting at Hogwarts all these years, Dumbledore's lapdog! Never even called to account for what he did as a Death Eater! He got off scot-free with who knows how many murders and tortures and other crimes to his name, never even saw the inside of a cell thanks to Dumbledore's protection, and I got Azkaban for twelve damned years for something I didn't even do!"

Remus held his hands up, palms out. "Stop! Just stop!" He wasn't about to contradict Sirius' belief that Severus had never been to Azkaban. He searched his friend's eyes, looking for something besides the pure anger that seemed to have taken him over. "Sirius." He didn't know what to say. He couldn't begin to think how to get through to him.

Twelve years in Azkaban: he had changed, Remus finally admitted to himself. Of course, after all those years, they both had. But Sirius had a bitterness about him, a harshness born of the terrible injustice he had suffered.

Trying to appeal to his good side right now, especially as it applied to Severus, would be impossible. Possibly suicidal.

"Sirius, don't ever doubt that I will be at your side from now on. Always."

It seemed to be the right thing to say. The painful fury slowly dissolved from Sirius' face and he leaned back against the table and half-sat on the edge. "I'm sorry, Remus. I just - sometimes, I feel as trapped in here as I did in - that place." He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "And Snape goes around free as you please... Have you ever asked Dumbledore how many people he killed? How many more he tortured?"

Remus looked at the floor.

"I may have known the curses, but I never used them..." But that had just applied to Severus' school days, hadn't it?

"I'm sure Dumbledore has his reasons for trusting him, Sirius. There's nothing either of us - or anyone else, for that matter - can say to change his mind."

"I should have voted with him and Moody to stop using him as a spy," Sirius spat out, his own eyes staring at the floor. "Let him try to hide from You-Know-Who. Get his just reward!"

Remus didn't have a response to that at first. Then he looked up and said, "You know, Sirius, you sound as bitter and angry and unforgiving as Severus. - I didn't think you'd want to be that much like him."

* * *

No sooner had Sirius left for his room - dinner this evening would be a bit of pot luck, since Hermione and Ginny had decided to take care of it in Molly's absence - than Tonks cornered him just outside the kitchen.

Speaking quietly, so as not to waken the portrait of Sirius' mother, she said, "Is - is Professor Snape always so - unpleasant?"

He'd secretly hoped she'd pulled him aside to discuss something else. He was tired of justifying people to each other. He wasn't born to be a diplomat, he thought. "No. He's usually much worse." He started to move away but she stopped him again.

"No, really. - Why are he and Sirius like that with each other? I mean, we're all on the same side."

He took a deep breath. "Sirius and Severus have never liked each other. Severus was on You-Know-Who's side last time, Tonks: not many people trust him."

"But you do."

He thought about that and finally nodded. "Right now, yes, I do. But more importantly, I trust Dumbledore, and he trusts Severus."

She cocked her head and as he watched her hair turned a lovely shade of pink. "You call Professor Snape by his first name. No one but Dumbledore does that. - Were you two friends in school?"

He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "Severus didn't have friends then and he doesn't have any now. That's the way he wants it."

"But - well, he had to have someone he liked back then, someone You-Know-Who made Professor McGonagall look like?"

He looked away. He wished that he could open up to Tonks. He wished he could confide what he'd learned, what he'd seen, the insights he'd had this last couple weeks, into a man who was so central to their efforts to defeat Voldemort.

He wished he could tell her how guilty he felt about his questions to Severus when he'd been under the influence of the Draught of Living Death. How horrible he felt that his stupidity had caused Molly's reaction and Orestes' death. And another round of torture for Severus.

He wished he could tell her the feelings for her that were growing within him, feelings he'd promised himself for decades that he would never allow himself to feel for a woman.

But all he could say was, "Yes, there was someone once. But that was a very long time ago." And he'd told her something about himself then, too, just then, but he knew she would never know that. He took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Let's get some dinner."

"Remus." She put a hand on his arm and he felt a shiver of pleasure run through him. "I wondered if - well, if you - wanted some company - tonight."

He looked into her eyes and could hardly believe what she was offering. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"No, I - I'd love it, Tonks, really. But - I won't be here." That decision had been made before the meeting had ended. Twice Severus had made it a point to tell him to be somewhere that Fenrir couldn't find him. Twice Remus had assured him he'd be fine here. And twice an unmistakable look of disappointment had covered Severus' otherwise impassive face.

It only took a few repetitions before Remus could catch a hint: Severus wanted him at Hogwarts, undoubtedly to get back at him in some fashion for having botched the potion. And though he didn't look forward to whatever form of payback Severus had in mind, he felt that honor demanded he face the music, so to speak.

"But Remus, this is the only place -"

"I'm - I have to be at Hogwarts. I have some things to take care of there."

She narrowed her eyes, they turned deep green, and her hair turned a similar color. Jealousy? he wondered. "In there, you said you'd be staying here. And besides, what kind of things do you have to take care of when you're - transformed?"

He chuckled. "No, before I transform. But I'll stay there when the moon comes up. It's probably the safest place on earth for me to be." He cleared his throat. "But - maybe next month..."

She smiled brilliantly, and her hair glowed a beautiful golden color.

Damn it! He had nothing he could begin to offer this woman! He was old, he was out of work, he was a werewolf! He shouldn't even think about...

But he did. And as they headed into the kitchen together, he thought about it a lot!

* * *

He packed for two nights. He grabbed a couple of old books he'd found on the shelves in the drawing room - one of them was a Black family history: he felt he owed it to Sirius to read that one - and headed back down the stairs.

In one of the side bedrooms, he heard Ron and Hermione arguing loudly with George and Fred over something that sounded like a newly-invented Weasley item. He smiled, remembering the days at Hogwarts when all he'd had to worry about were school exams and the occasional jinxes and spells that James and Sirius used to play around with...

But if he was really honest with himself, those days weren't quite as innocent as he wanted to make them seem. There were deadly pranks and unbearable loves; there were exploding potions and forbidden passions... Nothing had really been simple back then, either.

He went to tell the others that he'd be at Hogwarts, but he was surprised when he entered the kitchen to find Molly sitting there, drinking a cup of tea and grinning just as broadly as he'd ever seen.

"Molly! Feeling better?" It was a great relief: at least he didn't have her death on his hands.

"Feeling fine, Remus, thank you. - I hear you probably saved my life?"

He shook his head, but before he could say anything, Sirius, sitting at the head of the table, said, "That's right. Snape's potion probably would have killed you like it killed that Healer. Remus saved your life, alright."

And at that moment, he felt an anger at his friend that he hadn't felt in a very long time. "Sirius," he said quietly, "could I talk with you a minute?"

Sirius leaned back in his chair, balanced it on the back legs, and tilted his head as far back as possible to see behind him. "Are you going somewhere?" he asked noting the small trunk and the broom next to Remus.

"Yes. Can I talk to you for a moment?"

He finally dropped his chair back on all four legs and then turned around in it. "This isn't a good night for you to travel, Remus. What are you doing?"

He wanted to talk him privately, but since Sirius wasn't being accommodating, he decided to say what he had to say here. "Molly, I botched the potion. Severus was brewing it in a controlled environment, he told me to stay out, and I didn't. It wasn't his fault." He glared at Sirius, who looked peeved. "And I'm going to Hogwarts. I have some things to do for Dumbledore." That was true, he figured, in a very broad sense. "I'll be back Thursday."

"Remus!" Sirius finally got up from his chair and followed him as he gathered his things and headed for the door. "Remus, hold up! Hold up!"

He stopped and leveled an angry look at the man who'd always been a close friend. "You lied to her!" he said quietly. "You blamed Severus for something that was my fault!"

"He shouldn't have been making poisons -"

He grabbed his trunk, which had been levitating by his side. "Try doing a little thinking for a change, Sirius. I know you probably had too many years of doing nothing else, but you aren't in Azkaban any more, and Severus is not your enemy now." He sighed and shook his head at the look of anger Sirius returned. "I'll see you Thursday."

He left without being delayed, but the image of Sirius' hurt anger stayed with him for the next twenty-four hours.

* * * July 27, 1995, night

Minerva was working on her needlepoint. She'd been doing that for about an hour, while Albus grabbed one book after another from his shelves, flipped through each of them, grumbled, and then put them back.

With his usual subtle support, Dumbledore had simply let her into his office when she'd arrived with her needlepoint in its case and a goblet of mulled wine. She had worked with Dumbledore more years than she had not worked with him, and he neither asked nor needed to ask, why she had come. It was obvious that she didn't want to be alone: she couldn't assume her Animagus form, thanks to this damnable potion, and the emotional weight of who she'd been transformed into was too great to bear any longer on her own.

So was having faced the now horribly perverted form of the man she had once known as Tom Riddle.

All she needed was the knowledge that Dumbledore was there, whatever he might be doing. Although, after an hour of his increasingly frenetic activity, she began to think solitude might be preferable.

"Will you please tell me what you're looking for?" she asked.

"I'm looking for a reference to Legilimens Deletrius."

"Come again?" She put the needlework down and turned her attention to the Headmaster.

"Deletrius," he repeated, glancing at her hurriedly between putting one large book back and pulling a slender one from the shelf.

"I know what the Deletrius spell does..."

"Yes, it erases traces of magical energy. But Legilimens Deletrius -"

"Sounds like a memory charm. - I'd think you'd have had enough of those for a while." She shivered and pulled her cloak more securely around her shoulders.

Dumbledore finally sank into his chair and pulled off his spectacles. "Legilimens Deletrius is - well, it can help some people." His sudden withdrawal to vagueness set Minerva's nerves on edge.

"Some people - like who, Albus?"

He ran his finger down what might have been a table of contents in the book in front of him, and before she could ask him again, he let out a triumphant, "Hah! Yes, here it is! I knew..." But whatever he knew he didn't tell her. He read through what he'd found, and his enthusiasm - and her curiosity - finally got the better of her. She put her needlework down and went to his desk, looking at the book upside down from the opposite side.

"This is the treatment Orestes used with the Longbottoms," he finally explained, looking up from the book. "It didn't help them a great deal, but it's been very useful for patients whose injuries aren't quite as severe."

"Severe. Injuries. - Albus, what are you -"

He looked up at her, and the excitement at his discovery - or re-discovery - slowly faded from his eyes. "Five hours with the dementors, Minerva. On top of - that," he waved at her vaguely. "And everything else?" He looked away and she thought she had rarely seen such sadness in his eyes. "Bringing his mind back when he first returned from Voldemort's torture was - little less than torture itself."

"I know," she said tightly, "I was there. But what are you -"

"This is - it's a technique designed to heal the memories. To eliminate the pain left from torture or - horrifying events. Especially when they've been magically enhanced."

She turned the book around so that she could read it: the description seemed simple enough, much like a straightforward Legilimens attack. "You can't just block the memories of unpleasant things, Albus."

He shook his head. "No, this doesn't block the memories. It - removes some of the worst pain. And then it causes a healing sleep." He put his spectacles on and got up from his chair. He rounded the desk and headed for his enormous candy bowl. "When I first worked with Orestes, this was a technique he was pioneering. It took a lot of work, and a lot of patients, but he finally figured out how to use Legilimency to heal." He popped three lemon drops into his mouth. "I'm going to try it with Severus. If he'll let me."

She thought about that for a moment, then joined him at the candy bowl and picked up a cockroach cluster. "And just how much practice have you had in this, Albus? And how long ago? What are the risks to you?"

"To me?" He chuckled. "None. As for how much practice I've had? Well, a lot of it has more to do with one's intentions than with technique, though there is, of course, a certain amount of skill needed."

She nodded and chewed on her sweet. "And you're going to ask Severus to put himself in your hands - again - and use a technique that you've never tried before? And go back into his mind?"

"Oh, no, I worked with Orestes when he was developing this. In fact, I was one of his guinea pigs."

That was too good an image to pass up. She found herself laughing despite the seriousness of the situation. "You, Albus?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, he found a few - traumatic moments - from my youth and - well, I must say, the experience of the Legilimens Deletrius was actually - pleasant. And the pain from those memories has never been quite so acute."

"It's a generous thought, Albus, but -"

"But?"

She sighed and went back to the chair by the fire, wishing desperately that she could turn into a cat. "But you haven't had any practice in - decades. And the last thing Severus needs right now is someone - well, fumbling around in his mind."

He didn't respond and she finally turned to look at him. Then he came and sat next to her and said, "Then perhaps I can find someone I can practice on."

She stared at him for a few seconds, just to make sure she understood him. Then she shook her head. "Albus, I don't think-"

"Minerva, surely this has been a terrible summer for you as well. - I know you've had nightmares about - well, things you've seen, experienced, from Severus. - I could practice on you!" He ended with a smile so brilliant, a twinkle in his eye that had been missing for several days, and a kind of buoyancy that she couldn't resist.

"Oh, alright, why not? It can't be any worse than what we've already put Severus through. And if he can take it..."

He grinned and slapped his knees. "There you are! Exactly. So - ready?" He looked like a child on Christmas morning, she thought: a child with a very long, white beard.

"The way it works," he explained, grabbing the book from his desk and bringing it back to their chairs, "is with an image that the practitioner chooses - usually with input from the patient, but not always."

"What kind of image?"

"Something calming, soothing, healing. Some people choose an animal, or a place that brings pleasant memories. It should be a single, static image, though, not a collection of thoughts."

"And then what?" She'd put her needlepoint down and was finishing the mulled wine she'd brought.

"Then the practitioner uses that image to - well, to sort of float over the unpleasant or painful memories. Or those that have been deliberately damaged."

"Float," she said, not at all grasping what he was talking about.

He was looking though the instructions in the book again, his finger tracing the lines of the text. "Usually, Legilimens is a form of attack. Getting into someone else's mind and thoughts is rarely consensual. What this does is to find a pathway that allows access to the person's mind without causing pain or damage. Ideally, at least.

"Then the image is inserted into the memories to - well, to absorb some of the pain, so to speak. The Deletrius spell helps remove the magical energies left over from memories that have been attacked or damaged. Like a mental bezoar. Other memories are simply - eased by insertion of the pleasant image. Then, if all goes well, the patient - uh, person - is lulled to sleep by the calming effects of the inserted image. During sleep, the memories are - well, dreamt into the past where they can't cause so much pain."

She shook her head. "I still don't think I understand."

"Choose an image."

She shrugged. "A cat," she said. It was her favorite way of relaxing, of getting rid of the stresses being in her human form often brought. Not being able to transform right now was seriously stressful.

"Alright. Now, try to relax. We need to make eye contact, so don't close your eyes. - Tell me when you're ready."

Of course, the moment he told her to relax she felt every defense rise: she'd never been the target of a Legilimens attack that she had been aware of, and the thought brought only anxiety, bordering fear. She spent several seconds trying to return the state of ease she'd had when she'd been working on her scene of the Battle of Blistol.

"Alright," she finally said. Her hands were resting in her lap and she looked Dumbledore directly in the eye. The next moment, she felt something, a kind of pressure, in her head. It was odd, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

And then she was kneeling in front of Tom Riddle, Voldemort, the horrible, snakelike thing he'd turned into...

Severus was kneeling next to her: she could feel his mind in hers, she knew she must do what he said, and she felt quite at peace with that.

"It's alright, Professor, this is what you're here for. My Lord, I return as you ordered. I've brought you a prize."

"Ah, Minerva," Voldemort whispered happily. "How good to see you again! Oh, Severus, my servant, you have done very well, very well indeed! This makes me - quite happy. Do you remember me, Minerva?"

And then she was curled at Severus' knees, she was a cat, she couldn't be harmed. Severus was there, he knew what to do, he was in control of everything.

"Minerva, my first love, my first true love! Oh, but she never paid attention to me! No, she was too good, too pure, too self-righteous!"

Minerva shivered, but said nothing.

"Let's see who she refuses tonight!"

She looked up at the red, horrible eyes, and she remembered the young man she'd been in school with. How handsome he'd been, how smart, how clever. He had tried to interest her in going out with him, but she had seen the foulness that lived in his heart: she had heard things about him, things he had done to other students...

She felt a moment of panic: he touched her, his fingers like those of a corpse, cold and dead...

The cat. She was still a cat, he couldn't hurt her. She dropped back against Severus' knees and purred and knew he had everything under control.

"My Lord, I am here - as you ordered. To test my potion. I brought Professor McGonagall to test -"

"Answer my question, Severus. How long has it been since you've had a woman?"

"Many years, my Lord."

She felt her hackles rise: Tom Riddle was planning something evil, something horrible...

A cat.

She settled back down, wrapped her tail around one of Severus' knees, and began to purr again, a self-soothing sound that seemed to calm him, too...

"Deletrius," Albus whispered...

She shut her eyes and then covered them with her hands. She felt a warmth wrapped around her, felt herself falling, and then she felt Dumbledore lifting her and placing her on his bed.

She slept, and dreamed...

..."Professor Minerva! Oh, Severus, what a choice! Tonight..."

"My Lord, I - I should not wish to lose my position in Dumbledore's service. If I do not return the professor... I can be of great assistance to you as a spy -"

She wanted to tell him it would be alright. There was no reason to fear... A cat purred at her feet...

"Professor Minerva," the thing before her said, "please drink this."

"Severus? What is this?" She was purring, it was alright, there would be nothing to fear...

"Just - it's the potion I told you about. Drink it, Professor, it's alright."

"Yes, yes, yes," Voldemort whispered. "Now, this one. Drink this, Professor."

"Severus?"

"Drink it!"

"Severus, what should I do?"

"Drink it, Professor."

"Ah, yes. Look, Severus, look at her! Of all the women in the world, Severus, this is the only one you ever begged for..."

She purred, and felt only the calm of knowing nothing could hurt her.

* * *

Tonight, the ungraded papers and exams on his desk were a kind of gift.

It would be a long night. Recovering from a dementor attack was always difficult. But the pain of seeing Lily again made it so much worse: the dementors had pulled out every memory of her they could find and had set fire to all the joy, the beauty she had once been for him, leaving him with a mental landscape filled only with the smoking ruins of every failure he had ever suffered, every destitute relationship, every ruined thing in his life, every evil he had committed...

He wasn't sure how he'd gotten through the meeting. He wasn't sure what had made him say what he'd said to Lupin, either. To warn him to be safe: to hope he would come to Hogwarts...

Damn and blast! He felt as if he were sixteen all over again, craving the werewolf's company...

Not paying much attention, he emptied his pockets and put his wand and small vials on the desk, then tossed aside his cloak and put his broom against the bookshelf behind him. He lit a small fire and pondered the night ahead.

It would be abysmally lonely. That horrible, unforgivable emotion! Intolerable!

Normally, he craved solitude and silence: that's who he was! But tonight, he would have given just about anything to not be alone all night. He had so hoped, so secretly hoped, that Lupin would come...

He shunted that thought aside. What had gotten into him, that he would crave the company of someone else, anyone else, much less Lupin, whose blind stupidity had cost Orestes his life and had cost him hours of torture? What had possessed him?

It was the pain, he decided. The pain of Lily's love, lost. The pain of Lupin's near-friendship, lost all those years ago. The horror of so many other losses throughout his life, all of them pulled apart and left for him to stare into by the dementors and the Dark Lord's own torments.

He grabbed a stack of parchments and his quill and tried to concentrate on something besides the pain of his loneliness. Third year essays on the properties of moonstones.

"The moonstone, which is used in the Draught of Peace, strengthens emotional and subconscious aspects. The associations connected with that make it a 'lovers' stone', creating tender feelings and safeguarding the true joys of love... "

This was a topic he shouldn't have assigned, he decided. The writing was appalling, the information came straight from various over-used sources (without citations) and none of the students seemed capable of an independent thought.

No, this essay he would save for fifth years this term.

By the fourteenth repetition of the same opening remarks, he felt the beginnings of a headache behind his eyes...

... "Oh, my faithful one, you will lose nothing tonight. It will all be for your gain, for your pleasure. For your reward."

"Drink it, Professor, it's alright..."

... "If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her. Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?"

"I have - I have asked him-"

"You disgust me!"

... "We need to discuss your future at Hogwarts..."

... "I gave her a chance to step aside, Severus. I did that for you, for my faithful servant. But she wouldn't step aside! She wouldn't save her own life!"

Damn it!

He rubbed his eyes fiercely with his knuckles, as he used when a child. The pain was too fierce, too close to the surface. He pulled in a long breath and blinked and tried to read the rest of the essay.

"Moonstones are also regarded as 'dream stones' which bring the wearer beautiful visions at night."

"Severus," she whispered. "Hold me..."

He swiped his arm across the desk and all the parchments, his inkwell, his hourglass, several other stacks of paper, and two empty goblets all fell to the floor. He let out a long, howling cry of pain and then grabbed his wand and turned everything on the floor into flaming cinders.

"Severus, look at me."

..."He has her eyes. Precisely her eyes."

But he has James' face. Precisely his face!

...The Potter boy winced and felt at the scar on his forehead. His hair fell aside and Severus saw the scar, the bolt of lightning, the sign of his defeat of the Dark Lord.

"Ah, yes. Harry. Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Not so strong on your own, are you, Potter? Would your like to try a jinx, the way your father would? Or why not point your wand and.. No, not without your cronies!

... The abandoned, torn doll by the crib, the red fan of Lily's hair on the floor, her body dead, no sign of what had killed her, the invisible curse visible in the expression in her eyes...

... "She wouldn't step aside..."

...He lifted the book from the floor by the crib and felt the tears on his face beginning to drown him...

... "You can have her now - or anytime you want!"

He put out the fire in the fireplace. He wanted to feel cold. He wanted to feel the dampness of the dungeon. He wanted the chill to seep into his bones, into his veins.

His mother opened the window. It was so cold outside...

Arm burning... the cold, the awful cold...

...Falling, dropping, hitting the ground...

* * *

For reasons he understood but didn't want to face, Remus decided not to check in with Dumbledore when he arrived at the castle. He expected that Severus had his own particular form of vengeance he wanted to wreak, and Remus felt - and was - guilty enough that he wanted neither protection nor reprieve.

Orestes was dead. The old Healer might or might not have been working for Voldemort willingly, but in either case he was now dead, and his death was the direct result of Remus' doing: boiling water for tea, for Merlin's sake!

And Molly... He didn't want to think how close Molly might have come to losing her own life. And those two cups of tea had brought Severus hours of agony on top of it: he deserved some vengeance, Remus felt.

He could feel the sway of the waxing moon as he Apparated outside the protected boundaries of Hogwarts. His muscles and sinews began to ache, his bones began to creak, as if he were growing immensely old immensely fast.

Looking up, he saw the faintest glow on the horizon of the thing that controlled his entire life and he felt his senses begin to heighten. He could smell the air, he could see more clearly in the darkness now. The transformation was beginning, the slow, inevitable morphing.

He felt in his pocket for the small vial of the new potion Severus had given him, the one that might help the awful urges to scratch and bite. His fingers closed on the glass bottle and, as he walked up to the entrance of the castle, he wondered again about Severus and his motivations.

He wasn't an easy man to figure out. He'd created this new potion months ago, but had only given it to him now. He'd faithfully, generously, and freely volunteered to make the Wolfsbane Potion for him every month since he'd been hired at Hogwarts. Yet he had also been only too eager to turn him over to the dementors when he thought Remus had helped Sirius get into the castle to kill Harry.

And as for Harry... Severus seemed to have the same problem with the boy that Sirius had: neither of them could remember that he wasn't James!

He made his way through the Entrance Hall without being challenged, then down the stairs that spiraled to the Potions master's door. He took a deep breath, as if he were going to plunge his head under water, and knocked.

Severus opened the door himself and Remus felt a cold draft exhaled from the room, as if he'd opened a sarcophagus.

"Lupin." The Potions master looked as if he'd just emerged from his own grave, too.

"I - I heard what you said in the meeting," he started awkwardly. "About being somewhere Fenrir couldn't find me."

"And decided to travel here - alone?" Snape said, a familiar bitterness to his words. "Excellent. Had you been killed on the way, I could have one more body laid at my feet!" At that, he turned away and walked back into the room. It wasn't an invitation to enter: but he wasn't being asked to leave, either.

"Nice topic to start with," Remus shot back, and closed the door behind him. "By the way, how many would that be, altogether? Not including Orestes."

Severus whirled. "Oh, you are full of yourself tonight, aren't you?"

He thought about that and then gave a half-smile. "I tend to get a bit - aggressive about this time each month."

He could see that the answer took Severus by surprise. Then the Potions master's eyes narrowed. "A change for the better, I would say. Too bad you cannot make it permanent."

Remus felt his anger rising and fought it. He was here to pay a debt, he reminded himself, though Severus seemed unaware of that. Perhaps he hadn't understood Snape's intentions at all. Perhaps he'd read more into his words and looks than had really been there.

"I thought," he said, trying to calm his own nerves, "that since you haven't had a chance to see if it works - well, I thought you might want to see how that new potion you made for -" he paused, " - uh, you made, worked."

"How. Considerate." Severus glowered. "Well. You are here."

There was a large pile of ash on the floor near the desk. Severus seemed to notice it at the same moment Remus did. He took a long breath, then picked up his wand and made several large arcs with it in the air, muttering incantations as he did. The ash turned back into parchments and an hourglass and several other objects, all of which took their places on his desk.

Remus could only imagine what had come before, and was glad he hadn't been here for it. He put his trunk down and settled by the fireplace in the chair that he'd been occupying a great deal this summer.

"Grading papers has to be one of the most under-appreciated jobs in the world," he volunteered. "Mind if I start a fire?"

He hadn't misinterpreted Severus' words at the meeting. If he had, he'd have been out of here by now. The Potions master of Hogwarts would not have let him in and turned his back to him.

From his desk, Severus growled, "Help yourself," and picked up his quill.

The effects of the moon notwithstanding, Remus grinned without being seen and flicked his wand and started a nice, warming fire.

Several minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

"Oh, who is it now?" Severus asked impatiently, lifting his wand and flicking it at the door.

It was Professor McGonagall, still hooded, her cape flowing around her, concealing just about every sign that she looked like Lily.

Severus stood so suddenly he tipped his inkstand. He righted it quickly. Remus glanced at McGonagall, then at him, and started sidling for the door.

"Severus, I -" She stopped, noticing Remus for the first time. "Oh, uh, I'm - uh -"

"I'll just go wait -"

"Stay!" Severus ordered him, his eyes locked on the hooded figure in front of him.

"I just came by to -" McGonagall's voice was still painfully Lily's, Remus thought. He looked away from both of them, trying to make himself inconspicuous. "I just wanted to thank you. For getting us out of there. So quickly. And - in one piece."

Severus merely nodded. Remus glanced back: Severus' hands were balled into fists at his side.

"I - do you have any idea how long this..."

Severus took a deep breath as if it were the first he'd taken in hours. "I suspect - another twenty-four hours."

She nodded and her hood slid a few inches back.

Lily's face was visible. Severus gasped and shut his eyes tightly. Quickly, McGonagall pulled her hood forward, then turned and left. Severus flicked his wand and closed the door. He didn't move after that.

"I wish you'd have let me leave," Remus said irritably. And then Severus did move. He turned very slowly from the door and leveled his gaze on him.

"Did it occur to you that I did not want to be alone with her?"

"Oh." And then he understood Severus' desire for him to be there for the next twenty-four hours in an entirely new light as well. "Oh!"

"Yes. 'Oh.' You owe me." He swallowed loudly, then sat back at his desk. "I have a great number of papers to grade," he said unnecessarily. "Feel free to make yourself unnoticeable."

Since Severus had already granted him access to the books in the room, books that lined nearly two complete walls of his office, he slipped back behind Severus and browsed.

The selection was wide, varied, and deeply intriguing. There were, of course, all the text books he used for his classes: Teachers' editions of Advanced Potion-Making; Confronting the Faceless; The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. Books on magical water plants, toadstools, medieval sorcery, runes and transfiguration.

Surprisingly, there was also the classic children's book, Where There's a Wand, There's a Way, a very simple spell book most wizarding parents introduced their children to when they were four or five, to educate them on the dangers of wands, and their uses "when you are a little older/ and I am a little bolder".

The book was in near-mint condition aside from a scorch mark on the spine and it didn't look as if it had ever been used. Probably not a copy from Severus' childhood, he guessed: Snape would undoubtedly have had the entire book read to him over and over again, and the book would have been in tatters.

Curious, and smiling with fond memories of his father reading this book to him as a child, he took it back to his seat by the fire.

It seemed a good night for reminiscing.

He opened the book. There was an inscription on the frontispiece:

To Lily

From Sev

I hope it's a girl

July, 1980