Summoned

Chapter 31: A Spot of Muggle Torture

"Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside.... Everyone's worst fear ... the very worst."

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

July 30, 1995, night

"I told you," Remus said, "that's not his style! You wouldn't still be left standing on your one good leg if he'd set that trap!"

"Hello, Remus, Alastor," Dumbledore greeted them as he came into the Hall. "What isn't who's style?"

Severus, as Remus had hoped, was right beside the Headmaster. He gave Snape a quick look, but the man seemed entirely uninterested - in anything.

"The trap ye set fer us at Orestes' place," Moody said, glaring directly at the Potions master. "That was yer work, I know it was."

"Oh? And to what trap are you referring? Was it full of Dark Magic?" he asked sarcastically, finally giving Moody a familiar, sardonic look.

"Sand, actually," Remus said, addressing Dumbledore. "When we got to the apartment, there was an enchantment to keep us out. The floor turned to sand and the building disappeared and we found ourselves -" He cleared his throat, still a bit embarrassed. "- on a beach, about three hours away from the building."

Dumbledore chuckled and Severus looked disdainful. He turned back to Moody. "And you thought I would set a trap of that nature? That is insulting."

"Exactly," Remus agreed, but then wondered if he should have.

"Are you tellin' us - and Dumbledore - that you didn't go to Orestes' place ahead of us and take stuff from his apartment? Maybe incriminating stuff? Maybe Death Eater stuff?"

"No, I did not."

"I don't believe you!" Moody snapped. "I know you were there, Snape!"

"Why would I - never mind," he said, giving Remus a quick look.

Moody glanced at Remus, then looked at Dumbledore. "Did ye know he sneaked off to Albania, Albus?"

"I know nothing of the sort. Now, what have you brought us?" he asked, finally turning the conversation away from what had all the markings of turning into a nasty set of accusations.

On the long table at which the summering staff sat for dinner, Moody and he had set out the items they'd brought back from Albania.

"I don't know what most of these are," Remus said, pointing to the various jars and other items. "I distilled this one, and this one," he picked up two of the jars, "last night. This pink one is -"

"Transmogrification Potion," Severus said. His voice was very cold and a steel glint had entered his eyes.

Remus nodded. "Yes. I guess now we know who made it up." It had, by itself, convinced Remus that Orestes had been working with Voldemort. Whether of his own choice or not, he still couldn't say.

"This other one here is -"

"Amortentia," Severus supplied again. And once more the look in his eyes told him more than he really wanted to know.

"That's what I suspected," Remus said evenly, and put them both back on the table. "But I checked just to make sure." He tried to meet Snape's eyes, but the Potions master looked as if he were barely holding his emotions in check.

"These others, here," Moody said, waving his hand at the rest, "we couldn't tell. Figured we'd bring 'em here and let you and Lupin work on 'em. Then we'll get the Order together. - If that's okay with you, Albus?"

As if sensing danger, Dumbledore glanced at Severus.

"I can identify each of these right now," Snape said, moving closer to the table. "This," he picked up one bottle, "is the Weakening Solution I made - with help-" he added, glaring at Remus. "Or it may be a batch he made himself. In any case, it is of no use. This," he picked up the next jar, "is Veritaserum, and an excellent batch, as you can see. It is clear and-" He paused and opened the jar and sniffed the contents. "Odorless. I would daresay it is also tasteless. I shall add this to my stores."

"Why don't you try some," Moody suggested. "Make sure it works."

Severus smiled tightly. "Are you taking lessons from the Dark Lord now, Moody, or is your natural sadism coming to the fore?"

"Natur- why, you sneaking little-"

"Enough!" Dumbledore had to put himself between them, as each had begun to pull their wands. "Stop it! Alastor, I expected better of you! Sirius is one thing, but you haven't been sitting for twelve years in a dementor's cell! And Severus - calm down!"

"Ask him to try it, Albus," the former Auror said. "Go ahead. Let him try a couple drops, see if that gets the truth out of him!"

"Alastor-"

"Why not?" Severus agreed. He unscrewed the cap again, dipped his little finger into the jar, and then licked the potion off. "There. Now. What would you like to know?"

"Did you go to Orestes' house before we did?" His brogue had disappeared in his anger, Remus noted. "Did you take stuff from his house? Did you leave that blasted enchantment for us?"

Severus smiled unpleasantly. "No. No. And no."

"Hah!" Moody exulted. "It's nothing but water!"

"Oh, please, this is getting tiresome!"

"I said enough," Dumbledore repeated.

"Here," Remus said, holding out his hand. "I'll try some. Then you can ask me something to test it, alright?" He mimicked Severus' method of measuring out a dose, and waited. Having never taken any before, he wasn't sure if he should be feeling something: he wasn't.

"Are there any effects?" Remus asked.

Severus looked irritated. "You will be forced to tell the truth about whatever you are asked."

He gave the man a hard glare. "Okay, someone, ask me something."

Dumbledore and Moody just looked at each other. Severus gave Remus a very, very slight shake of the head, then said, "Are you in love with Nymphadora Tonks?"

"Uh - maybe - I - think - I'm not sure," he answered. Truthfully. Embarrassedly. But he saw the quick flicker in gratitude in Snape's eyes at the same time he realized that it would have been perfectly easy to lie or dissemble.

It was just water!

Damn! He was covering for Severus' lie and he didn't like it. Not here, not at this time, not with Moody's suspicions now looking more likely.

"I say Snape didn't give it time to work. Alright, I'll ask you another question: we'll see how truthful you are." He whirled his magical eye. "Did ye kill yer father?"

"Alastor!" Dumbledore's ire was evident: his blue eyes were no longer amused or gentle, but flashing cobalt anger. "I am satisfied with Severus' veracity. If you want to continue this discussion with me later, that's fine. But this is not the time or place."

Moody mumbled something, then took a quick drink from the flask on his hip.

"As I was saying, the rest of these are all easily identifiable. If you would like, Headmaster, I shall prepare a list of everything they found for the meeting."

"I'd like to help," Remus added, knowing that he had walked into a trap set by Severus this and wanted to figure his way out.

Severus shrugged and conjured a small trunk. Together, they piled everything from the table into the trunk and sent it levitating ahead of them. "When do you wish to call the meeting?" Severus asked as he and Remus started through the Hall.

"Oh, well, it's too late tonight. Tomorrow evening. Let's make it around eight? So Tonks and Kingsley can be there."

Severus opened his mouth as if to object, then nodded once and turned away.

"He's lying to ye, Albus! Bald-faced lies! He was there! I know it!" Moody's voice trailed after them.

Remus waited until they were in the dungeon, with the door closed and his cloak thrown over one of the chairs near the fireplace, before he turned on Severus. "I told a very private truth to cover up your lie?"

"It was water," Severus confessed. "I did not know until I tested it. And Moody - does not trust me. I did not want him to think I was deliberately misleading him. Or you. Or Dumbledore."

"Are we even, yet? Or do I still owe you?" Remus asked bitterly.

"Oh, you definitely still owe me," Severus said, eyes sharpening, his voice lowering to a dangerous level. "Five hours with the dementors? My mental defenses are nearly non-existent right now. Yes, Lupin, you still owe me! And you're going to owe me tomorrow night, too."

"Oh? How do you figure that?"

"If I am not there when the meeting begins, you are to bring word that I was unexpectedly delayed by a potion that started to go wrong and had to tend to it."

Lupin nodded stiffly. "And I'm going to choose to believe that that is where you'll be and what you'll be doing."

Severus shut his eyes as if he were in pain, and when he opened them they were full of anger: but it wasn't directed at Remus, he could see that. "It will be." He turned away and began unpacking the trunk.

"And if someone wants to go check on you, and I volunteer, I'll find you - here? Or at the Shack?"

Snape whirled and this time the anger was directed at him. "Do not go to the Shack! Do not let anyone go to the Shack!"

"And I'm supposed to stop Dumbledore?"

"If you have to!"

Remus took a long, deep breath. "I don't think I want to know anything more, do I?"

"No. You do not."

They worked in near silence for the next couple hours. Remus felt as if he were sixteen again, working on the joint Potions-Herbology project that he and Severus had been paired up for in their N.E.W.T-level class. It had been a time, a very brief time, in which he had begun to see through the unlikable exterior that Severus projected.

And then Sirius and James played their fateful prank, and Severus took a trip under the Willow...

Eventually the traveling caught up to Remus and he couldn't stop yawning. "Well, we've got half of these verified," he noted, counting the list and comparing it against the jars and other items. "Can we finish tomorrow? I'm beat!"

"As you wish. - You should seal up all these jars in the trunk and take it with you so there's no question that I altered anything overnight."

"Good idea," he agreed, and began levitating the unclassified ones back into the trunk.

"All of them, Lupin! I do not want to be accused of anything tomorrow."

"Even the water?"

Severus hesitated.

"Have you got enough Veritaserum to switch it out?" Remus suggested.

Severus shook his head. "I am afraid the best I can do is an unavoidable-" he flicked his wand at the jar and it toppled from the desk and smashed on the floor, "accident." He looked up at Remus, who grinned.

"Maybe you do have a sense of humor."

"Do not count on it."

With the jars packed and the other objects labeled and catalogued, Remus took the trunk and the list - "In case Moody thinks something is missing from what you brought back," Severus commented - and levitated it out of the office and up the stairs to the room he'd taken intermittently this summer.

There, he undressed and got ready for bed, but lay staring at the ceiling for a long time, trying not to imagine what was going to keep Severus from an Order meeting.

* * * July 31, 1995, mid-afternoon

Severus and Lupin resumed, and finally finished, verifying the contents of all the jars and bottles the next day. There was, they both agreed, just enough evidence to go either way.

The various odd items that Lupin and Moody had also pilfered from the house were easy for Snape to identify. He had, himself, an interest in ancient and antique potion-making equipment, and recognized almost everything they returned with as something of historic value only. Except for one particular quill, which Moody had apparently insisted on bringing: try as they might, neither of them could get it to do or turn into anything.

They packed everything into the trunk, and Remus left with it, giving Severus an unhappy look as he went.

He had been justifiably able to beg off meeting with Dumbledore all morning. He couldn't afford to let him go wading through his thoughts and memories right now. He was still trying to control the revulsion building in him about the night ahead.

He spent the next hour putting the finishing touches on two small vials he planned to bring with him. Then, when Dumbledore invited him to lunch, he began his exit strategy.

"I regret, Headmaster that - I've been given an assignment. I need to prepare a potion for this evening. I should be there for the meeting, though I might be late."

Through the fireplace, he could not see Dumbledore: the man was sitting just out of range of sight. Purposely? Severus wondered. Was someone in the room with him? Moody, perhaps?

"For tonight? Can't it wait?"

"No."

There was a very long silence. An ominous silence. "You do remember that - this is Harry's birthday."

Oh, how could he have forgotten! Did Dumbledore think- He reigned in his temper. "I remember. - As I said, I should be there for most of the meeting, if not all of it. I might just - run a little late."

"Please try not to."

As if it would be up to him. "I shall do my best."

"Severus."

"Yes."

There was another pause, then Dumbledore's face appeared in the flames. "Be careful."

"I always am."

He turned away quickly before Dumbledore could say anything more to make this harder than it was.

He packed his mask and the hooded robe in his satchel, grabbed the vials he'd finished working on, and slipped his wand into the pocket of his sleeve. With his broom, he flew to the Shack. There, he decanted a third potion, one he desperately hoped he would not have to use. But in his experience, there had been more times that he had used it than that he hadn't. He wondered, briefly, as he often did, if giving it to someone else to decide to take counted as murder.

His arm began to throb around dinner time. He had carefully eaten a very light lunch at the Shack: a full stomach was never a good idea for these outings. Now, as the sun began to descend, he checked the time. It was close to seven. He doubted he would be back in time for the meeting.

As the throbbing in his arm turned to a hard, hot burn, he put on the mask and the robe, closed his eyes, cleared his mind, and centered his thoughts on the Dark Lord...

... They were at the Riddle House. Again. The Dark Lord was holding court in the room with the large chair. Wormtail was still there, hovering nervously to the side. Two other Death Eaters had arrived as well. One of them, by the very way he held himself, he knew to be Lucius Malfoy. The other he couldn't recognize with his mask in place.

"Ah, my last faithful servant of the night," the Dark Lord hissed as he fell into place, on his knees, next to the other two.

"Master," he said. Apparently, he had arrived within the time limit. There was not yet a Cruciatus.

"Now, then," the Dark Lord said, "the rules of the night. Two of you know each other. The third is - new. You do not know him, and you will not. He does not know the other two.

"You will Apparate with me to the spot I have chosen. You do not need to concern yourselves with the location or the name of the family I have chosen for tonight's - revelry."

The other two chuckled. Even Wormtail laughed. Severus was not someone to laugh. He forced his face into a grin, though, quite aware that the creature before him could see his expression through the mask if he chose.

"Now, are we all aware of what day today is in wizarding history?"

Oh, bloody hell! "Harry Potter's birthday," he answered. "Master."

"Very good, very very good. Sadly, we all know that Harry Potter will be spending the day in his aunt's house, where we cannot reach him."

Severus felt a sense of relief so strong he almost blacked out from it.

"So, I have chosen instead a family to bring the message to him for us. Now, all of you, up! Here." He held out his arms. Apparently, they were to hold on. He gripped one of the bony, long protuberances that dangled from the shoulders and ended in a claw-like hand. Lucius, he noted, grabbed the other arm. And their third, unknown accomplice attached himself to Lucius' arm.

"Here we go!"

Wands out, they whirled together in the room like a macabre dance group, and then Disapparated...

... And appeared somewhere that was not at all familiar. Severus felt another wave of relief: as far as he could tell, they weren't in Little Whinging, which he had feared. Instead, they were on a deserted dirt road, with woods around and behind them. Ahead, about forty yards from where they stood, was a small farmhouse with lights on on both floors, and smoke coming from a chimney.

"This is our family for the night. One for each of us. Come, let's make ourselves welcome."

Four people, he thought, trying desperately to plan for what he was going to find. Almost certainly, there'd be a child there. Maybe more than one. He forced his mind to remain calm, to think coldly and logically only, not to consider...

The Dark Lord aimed his wand at the front door and it sprang open. "Welcome Lord Voldemort into your world!" the Dark Lord announced, using the Sonorous Spell to make sure his words carried as he stepped into a small foyer.

Almost immediately, a woman, probably only in her thirties, came hurrying from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. As soon as she saw them, she began to scream.

"She is yours," their leader said, tapping Lucius on the shoulder.

Instantly, Lucius moved forward and aimed his wand at her. "Crucio!" The woman dropped to the floor, screaming in pain, writhing...

"What in the hell... Oh, my God! God! No!" The man who seemed to be her husband had started down the stairs, but as he saw what was happening, he turned and raced back up.

"Coward!" called Voldemort, and he shot a flame from his wand that tripped the man and brought him crashing to the first floor. "He is yours," the Dark Lord said to the newcomer.

That man, too, moved immediately toward his victim and shot a Cruciatus at him. Like his wife, who was writhing and screaming just a few inches away, he doubled over in pain and grunted and tried not to scream... But that wouldn't last long.

And then, scampering down the stairs, came what Severus had dreaded. The father had probably been going back to hide his children, not to escape, Severus guessed.

Obviously, one of the two children was for him. But the other...

"Master," he said quietly, while the Dark Lord suspended the children in the air and let them rotate a few times before doing anything more. They were screaming. "The brats?" he continued, raising his voice to be heard over the children. "I brought two new potions to try and they would be perfect."

"What potions?"

"Variations on the transmogrification potion you so - generously gave me a sample of."

"And what will they do?" He was still turning the children around and around as if they were on a spit, and their cries of terror were added to the horrible cacophony already filling his ears...

"If all goes well, they should turn into someone they fear greatly."

The Dark Lord chuckled. "But if I find myself wandering the grounds tonight, Severus, I shall have to kill myself."

Severus gave an amused smiled but said nothing.

"You can only have one. Otherwise, that would leave me without-"

And as he stopped speaking, Severus looked up the staircase again and saw what would probably be the children's salvation: A very old man came doddering to the top steps. He stopped in horror and just looked at the scene for about two seconds, then turned to Voldemort.

"You!"

"Ah!" the Dark Lord hissed. There was recognition in his eyes - in both their eyes. This was the reason the family had been chosen. Voldemort knew the old man: he would probably not live through the night. But the children...

"Master, since you have - an old friend to entertain? May I have the brats?"

"Yes, Severus, you may have them. I do recall how partial you are to children. A lot like Fenrir, aren't you?"

"Indeed, Master." He flicked his wand at the rotating children and let them down carefully. "Come with me," he ordered, and as the children looked up at the old man, then down at their parents, they continued to cry, but came down the steps toward him.

"Ah, my old friend," the Dark Lord was saying, his wand having already bound the man with thick, glowing cords. The man was saying nothing: his eyes were fixed on the children, his grandchildren, being led away by a Death Eater... His last thoughts would be tormented with what he imagined would be happening to them, Severus assumed. But there was nothing he could do to reassure the man.

This was going to get very bad very fast. Severus didn't wait for the children to make it to the bottom of the steps. He stepped forward and grabbed their arms roughly and dragged them behind him, out the door, away from the house, as far from the sounds of the screams as he could justify. They kicked and bit and clawed him, but he didn't pay any attention. As soon as he had them as far as he could take them, he crouched down in front of them, still holding them firmly in his grasp.

"Shut up!" he commanded, and was, as always, obeyed. The girl looked to be about ten. The boy was closer to six. "Now, listen very carefully to what I tell you. I am trying to save your lives. Do you understand me?" They both nodded. "I'm going to let go of you. You must not run! If you try to run, I will stop you!" They both nodded again. The little boy was hiccupping with sobs and the girl's face was deeply streaked with tears.

Oh, how he hated this!

He let them go. They stood in place. "Very good. Now-"

"Are you a Death Eater?" the little boy asked.

He froze. "How do you know them?"

"Because Grandpa's a wizard. He told us about Death Eaters. And He-Who-Must-Be-Named."

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" his sister corrected him, sniffing loudly. "Was that him? The really gross man?"

"Yes. That is he. Now this," he said, holding up his two small vials, "is syrup of ipecac. Do you know what that is?"

The girl nodded. "Mummy keeps some in the medicine chest."

"Yes, do you know what it does?"

"It makes you sick. Do you have a real face under the mask?" the girl asked. Her tears had started to dry in the night air, and she was brushing them off her face and gulping back her fear, replacing it, apparently, with curiosity! Aside from her hair, which was very black, she looked - and sounded - a lot like the Granger girl, he thought.

"Yes, I do. This makes you vomit. That is all it will do. It will-"

"Can I see-?"

"No! Will you shut up! This will not harm you. Now, please start screaming. I need them to think I'm hurting you."

They both choked out a few, terrified screams, then stopped and looked to him for approval. He nodded. And they actually smiled at him! Oh, Merlin!

"I'm five," the little boy offered, holding up his hand, fingers spread apart.

Oh, for the love of... "Fascinating. I added some color and made them taste different. Now, drink them. And then I want you both to make as much noise - scream and yell as loud and as much as you can."

He handed each of them a potion. The boy couldn't get the cap off his, so Severus had to take it back and unscrew it for him. The girl had swallowed hers and she made a face.

"It tastes funny."

He shut his eyes: this was why he hated teaching children! "I just told you it would," he said tightly, watching to make sure the boy swallowed his dose as well.

"It tastes like cat poopies," he said.

"How perceptive." He waited, but they both just stood there. "Well? Start. Screaming!"

They both did, and then they both started to vomit. He moved out of the way and watched them, but their screams were so damnably convincing he knew he wasn't going to be able to take much more of it.

He watched as long as he could, hearing the screams in the background, hearing the children, and then something seemed to rupture in his mind and he heard the ever-present screaming from his own childhood, from the nights Tobias attacked, from the days when his mother used her curses on him, from the night in the Ministry cell...

"Stay right here, and keep screaming," he ordered them, and then moved away from them, back toward the house. He found a convenient patch of bushes and threw up. He was shivering and sweating, and he could see the dementors coming closer, sucking out his thoughts, sucking out Lily...

He forced everything back, away from the present. The screaming and laughter were still coming from the house. The children were still crying out in pain...

It went on and on and on. But finally, the noises in the house died down, and he went back to the children. "You can stop now," he told them, carefully avoiding the mess on the ground.

They both looked a bit pale. "Now, before you go back inside, I want you to listen to me very carefully." They both nodded. "Your grandfather may be dead. I don't think your parents are, but I'm not sure."

They both began to cry, hard, and he knew he had to keep going. "This is a very special bottle," he said, grabbing the girl's hand and shoving the third potion into it. "You must not, under any circumstances, drink this. Do you understand?"

She nodded. He looked to the boy. He nodded, and grasped his sister's hand. He was crying too much to understand anything more, so Severus addressed his instructions to the imitation-Granger.

"You will give this to whoever is - is best able to understand what you tell." She nodded, sniffing back her own tears. "You say, 'This is for someone who is fatally injured. It will help, but it will not cure.' Repeat that."

"This is for someone who is fatally injured," she began. "What's it going to do?"

He met her eyes. "It will stop his suffering," he said plainly, almost certain that the grandfather would need it. "Quickly. And painlessly."

She began to sob harder and the next moment, she had wrapped her arms around his neck, carrying her brother along with her: he was engulfed in teary, vomit-scented brats!

He pulled them away and looked at them. "Do not. Ever. Hug. A Death Eater. Do you understand me?"

His menacing voice worked perfectly. They both gulped and jumped back a bit. "And never - ever - tell anyone what happened out here. Is that clear? No one!"

"You mean we have to lie?" the boy said.

Oh, great, a budding conscience! "You will tell them that I made you vomit and I made you scream in pain. That's the truth. Nothing else."

"Except about this?" the girl asked, holding out the potion.

He nodded. "Yes. Now, your parents will probably look very bad. But they should be alright."

"Why did you do this to us?"

"I didn't-" he caught himself and took a calming breath. "I don't even know you!" he snapped. "I came because the Dark Lord ordered me to come."

"But why-"

"Will you shut up!"

"Do Death Eaters have real names? Grandpa said-"

Oh, this was not going to turn into show and tell! He got up and aimed his wand at them both. "If you do not shut up, I am going to turn you both into toads!"

That got them. He waited, glaring through his mask at the girl, daring her to say anything more. But she didn't.

"Alright. Stay here until - until we have all left. All of us. All - four - of us," he added, anticipating the girl's question just as she opened her mouth. She held her silence. "And you," he said to the girl, "you're older. You go into the house first. Protect your brother from seeing anything - ugly - as much as you can. Understand?"

With what she obviously recognized as an enormous, unbearable burden suddenly heaped on her shoulders, the girl sagged a bit, clasped her brother's hand tighter, and nodded. Tears were seeping out of her eyes again.

He started back toward the house to see what the situation was, but the girl caught him just before he was out of hearing range. "Thank you for saving our lives, sir. My name is -"

He whirled on her. "Do not tell me-"

"Rose Zeller."

He felt a flame building in his head, a fury so strong he could almost not contain it. But he did, and he turned his back on the girl and strode back to the house. He slammed open the door and found what he had expected.

The parents were still moaning and twitching on the ground, there were cuts and other marks on their faces and hands, but they would live.

The old man, however, had certainly met with Voldemort's dislike. He was lying on the steps, groaning softly. His legs had been turned inside out. He was going to slowly and painfully bleed to death.

"How did your experiment go, Severus?"

"Poorly," he said, his wand still in his hand, toying with the idea of aiming it at the old wizard. "It did cause them a great deal of pain, but it didn't effect the transformations I'd hoped for."

"Well," said the Dark Lord, his eyes fixed on the badly suffering old man, "you'll have to keep working on it. I'd like to see it in action."

"So would I," he muttered, his thoughts carefully concealed. "Are we finished?"

"Yes. And don't forget," he said, addressing the parents, "make sure you tell everyone you can that this was a very special birthday present for Harry Potter."

He laughed, cackling and hissing and making sounds too disgusting to try to describe. Then he held out his arms and the other two grabbed one each, and Severus was left holding onto Malfoy's arm. It made his skin crawl.

And that was the best feeling he'd had since this whole thing had started.

* * *

As Remus had feared, Severus was not there when the meeting was called to order. Dumbledore indicated to Arthur that they should begin.

"Snape mentioned that he might be delayed-" Remus started but Dumbledore cut him off.

"Yes, he told me, Remus, thank you. Shall we get to it then?"

The rules of order having been properly attended to, and Molly's ginger snaps sitting in the center of the table, as always, untouched, they began.

Remus and Moody pulled everything out of the trunk they'd brought with them.

"Well, you certainly brought back a lot," Sirius said coldly. "Not bad for a 'useless expedition'."

"Actually, Sirius, if you look at the list of what we've got, you'll see that it probably was." He had replicated copies for each of the members, figuring it would speed things up if he and Moody didn't have to itemize everything themselves - with what would have probably been a good deal of editorializing on Moody's part.

As they all began to look through the listing, Dumbledore said, "Well, for the most part, these are all things you'd expect to see in any decent potion master's standard stores. A couple of these we know Voldemort used on Severus, but aside from that-"

"A couple?" Sirius pounced. And Remus saw Dumbledore's error as soon as he did. "I see the Transmogrification Potion, but not the Blood-Letting Potion. Oh, but that's right, Snape made that one himself! - So which other potion has Voldemort used on our beloved spy?"

Dumbledore looked at him over the top of his spectacles. "I was mistaken," he said evenly. He held Sirius' gaze for a moment, daring him to question Dumbledore's veracity. Apparently, even Sirius didn't have that in him.

"I think it stinks," Moody finally blurted out. He pulled out his flask and took a swig. "Snape got there before us, Albus. I know he did."

"Alastor!"

"Oh, yes, we've heard about your trip to the beach," Sirius added, his bitterness aimed at Remus this time.

Remus just ignored him. "All the things we thought looked very odd turned out just to be a collection of antiques," he said instead. "I don't think-"

"If I may, Headmaster." Everyone turned to the doorway, where Severus' shadow suddenly loomed, blocking the light from the hallway. He turned and closed the door, then aimed his wand at it to Charm it against prying ears. "I do not think anything can be determined from that inventory. Please add me to the list of attendees," he instructed Arthur on his way to his seat.

He gave the Headmaster a quick look that clearly told him to stay away, and Dumbledore nodded.

Tonks offered to share her copy of the list with him, but he shook his head. "I helped write it, Miss Tonks!"

Okay, he was in a foul mood. His eyes were red, and the rest of his face looked deathly white. It was hard to see his lips, they were so tightly pulled together! He sat in the chair somewhat heavily, and rubbed his head as if it hurt him.

Remus doubted he was the only one to notice the cuts and scratches on his hands, though Severus himself seemed oblivious to them.

"Nothing there can be used to determine his state of mind," he said. Again, he looked only at Dumbledore. "I would like to think that he was acting under some form of coercion, but I do not know what type. I doubt we will ever know unless the Dark Lord tells me some day. Which I would not count on.

"Oh, and Moody," he added, picking up the large, grey quill and handing it across the table to the man, "sometimes a quill is just a quill."

Moody turned red. Dumbledore cleared his throat and several others chuckled. Then Moody's magical eye focused on Severus' scarred hand.

"Any further discussion?" Dumbledore asked quickly, putting his copy of the list on the table.

There was none. "Well, this was a quick meeting," Arthur commented happily. "If that's all-"

"Not quite." Severus sat forward in his chair, leaned his arms on the table, and noticed the wounds on his hands, as if just realizing they were there. He pulled his hands back and pulled his robe around them. "I have just learned that the Dark Lord and some of his followers tortured a Muggle family this evening. Apparently," he continued, speaking through the gasps of shock, "he knew the grandfather, from Hogwarts."

"Oh, God," Minerva said. "Who was it?"

"The name might be Zeller, I'm not sure."

Dumbledore nodded. "Horatio Zeller. I remember him. He wasn't a member of the Order but he fought Voldemort on his own. Bravely."

"Tonight - he lost."

There were a few seconds of silence, and then Tonks said, "You said grandfather? There were-"

"Children? Yes," he said, not taking his eyes from Dumbledore for even a second. It was as if he were staring at his only lifeline, Remus thought.

"Oh, heaven help us," Molly said, and punctuated her prayer with a little sob. "Children!"

"They and their parents, as I understand it, will be fine." He swallowed loudly. "I was also informed that the family were told to report the attack as a birthday gift for Harry Potter, since they could not touch him themselves."

That pretty much ended the attention span of the group. Instantly, comments and opinions began to swirl around the table.

"That is all I have to contribute to this meeting. If you will excuse me, I have - potions to finish before they get stale."

He finally broke Dumbledore's gaze, glanced very quickly in Remus' direction, then left. They heard the small hiss of him resealing the Charm around the door.

* * *

Everyone had grown very quiet and slowly, each of them turned to the Headmaster.

"No!" Dumbledore said preemptively. "I guarantee that under no circumstances would Severus have any part in the torture of children. He would sacrifice his own life first. There will be no discussion about that."

"Albus!"

"Dumbledore, you know he must have been there-"

"I know-" he interrupted forcefully, "that he is telling me the truth. There will be no further discussion of that."

"Albus, you can't just declare something like that off-limits!" Moody said.

"I can. And I have. We have gone over Severus' loyalty several times now. It is not going to be discussed each time he brings us word of what Voldemort has done!"

"Then how do you think he found out about it?" Sirius demanded. "You think Voldemort just popped into Hogwarts to give him a news update?"

"Severus told me he had potions to work on this evening. I expect he delivered them and was given the news. Voldemort is trying to begin a spread of terror. What we need to focus on is getting to that family and convincing them not to say anything. It will, at this point, simply turn into fodder for the Ministry and the Daily Prophet to use to continue discounting Voldemort's rebirth. - If no one objects, I would like to go. I knew Horatio. And I knew his son, just a bit."

There was no argument on that front. He nodded. "Then I think we can conclude the meeting. Arthur?"

The meeting ended, the plate of ginger snaps was left untouched, and Dumbledore excused himself quickly from the rest of the group. He needed to locate the Zeller home and get there as quickly as possible. Severus hadn't said exactly when the attack took place, but silencing Voldemort's message was of paramount importance. They weren't yet strong enough to begin taking him on without the support of the Ministry. And if he did, in fact, have dementors waiting on the side...

He whirled himself back just outside the grounds of Hogwarts, and then flew to the castle. He went immediately to the dungeons, but had only half a hope Severus would be there.

He was. He opened the door from his seat by the fire. The haunted look in his eyes told Dumbledore everything he didn't want to know.

"Do you have their address?" he asked, not bothering with niceties at the moment.

Severus shook his head. "No."

He moved a bit closer and Severus wrapped his cloak more tightly around him, as if to protect himself form Dumbledore's presence. He was sweating. And shivering.

"The children?"

"The girl is named Rose. She looked to be about ten. She might be on the Roster."

"Are you sure they're going to be alright?"

He nodded once, curtly, and said nothing.

"I need to stop them from spreading Voldemort's--sorry - message. Anything else you can give me?"

Severus shook his head. "That was all he told me," he answered, his voice gruff. He cleared his throat as if that would help. "If you find them," he said, his voice still thick, "take that jar on the desk to them. A tablespoon each for the adults, a teaspoon for the children. - It should help them - recover - much faster. Every six hours for a day or two."

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked, taking the jar with the maroon-colored liquid.

He didn't turn from the fire, but he leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees and rubbed his head again, as if he had a terrible headache. "My own mixture of Strengthening and Calming Draughts." He finally glanced up and gave him a slight, sarcastic smile. "Nothing experimental. I have been using it for years. - And that batch was brewed here, months ago, under very controlled conditions."

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you. I'll - give it to them if I find them. I'll come talk with you when I get back."

"Tomorrow, Headmaster. It has been a long day." He said it calmly and without emotion. And without meeting his eyes.

Dumbledore nodded and left.

If the girl had any magical abilities, the Roster might have her address on it. He went to Minerva's office, where they kept the latest copies, but she either hadn't returned to Hogwarts yet, or she was elsewhere, perhaps in her bedchamber.

He went down to his office, prepared to dig through the reams of older copies in his desk. Surprisingly, happily, Minerva was there, and already had the Roster in her hand.

"I thought that, if the grandfather was a wizard, one of his grandchildren might be on the Roster. And she is. She'll be starting here this term. Here's the address."

He smiled. "Minerva, you are a wonder! Thank you."

"Should I check on Severus?"

He shook his head. "No. Leave him alone. This was - upsetting news."

"You know everyone thinks he was part of it."

He didn't want to think about that. He usually was able to do a very good job of never thinking about what else Severus did. Without a response, he left to pay a very painful condolence call.