A Merciless Affection

Chapter 46: We Can Breathe At Last

Sarah went to the hospital wing to discharge the first part of her assignment, but she did not remain there. She couldn't bear it. If she did, she would only lie there waiting for Severus to limp in battered and bloody, with or without a mangled Harry Potter. She said as much to Madam Pomfrey: "If there are casualties, I'd rather be asleep in my own bed."

But she did not, in fact, go to her own bed. In the shadow of an alcove outside the hospital wing, she used her ring to go back to the dungeons. There, exhausted--both emotionally and physically--she climbed into the bed, pulled the covers, still heavy with the scent of their bodies, up to her nose, and tried not to imagine the progress Severus was making through the forest. The catalog of monsters that were supposed to live there would fill up a good half of the seven-year Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum (even assuming there was a competent teacher for all seven years). It was evidence of how weary she really was that she was still considering how he might cope with the giant spiders when she fell asleep.

She woke--how much later she was not sure--to a flash of light, and found herself blinking blearily up at what appeared to be a transparent silver phoenix hovering over the bed. It looked at her quizzically, then darted away, disappearing...through the wall? The ghost of a phoenix? How could that be? Professor Dumbledore was the only person she knew of who had one, and supposedly a phoenix could never die--it was simply reborn.

It ought be a bad omen, but she felt no sense of panic. On the contrary, it left her with an inexplicable sense of security. She had no impulse, at least, to run up to the hospital wing. Or maybe she was just too sleepy to react. But whatever it had been and whatever it had meant, it was gone now. Sarah turned over in the dark and went back to sleep.

When the second phoenix woke her--a minute or two after she'd fallen asleep again, it seemed--she began to wonder if she'd had, or was still having, a very odd dream. This time the ghostly bird swooped around the room, then dived under the bed. From the pattern of light that flashed on the floor, it appeared to be flying around in circles under there. What on earth...?

The Pensieve? They hadn't used it since her return from the meeting with the Dark Lord. It was only supposition--given that she had never seen Severus remove it--that it was still under the bed.

Suddenly, the rapid oscillating of the light ceased. The room went altogether dark. Once more, it was gone.

This time Sarah was too astonished to go back to sleep. She was also too fat to lean over the edge of the bed. Driven by curiosity, grumbling to herself, she ended up on her hands and knees on the floor.

"Lumos!"

There was nothing under the bed at all.

It had been Dumbledore's Pensieve--merely on loan to his Potions master. And now, if the ghostly phoenix did indeed signify Dumbledore, somehow he had taken it back. It was a vaguely uneasy thought, wondering what he might need it for, suddenly, that he had not for all these months.

Shivering from the perpetual chill in the dungeons, Sarah put out her wand light and slipped back under the covers. But even a warming charm on the blankets was inadequate comfort on this troubling night. Unable to find sleep again, she wrapped herself in her robes and conjured a fire in the fireplace. She pulled Severus's armchair as close to the fire as she dared, and picked up one of the many books on Dark Potions she had been studying before her horrible adventure with the Notts. Curling up in the chair (as well as she still could), she distracted herself from her worries with the effort of reading in the flickering light.

* * *

She woke to another flash, this time of green light, as the fireplace flared. Severus swore as he jerked back to avoid stumbling over the chair when he emerged.

"I might have known you wouldn't do as I told you," he snarled.

"You're all right!" she said, before she was actually awake enough to see whether he was or not. She rubbed a hand across her eyes, closed the disarrayed book with the other, and sat up.

"Aside from nearly having had my head bashed in by centaurs for no good purpose, yes." Despite this statement, he seemed essentially undamaged, if a bit more cranky than usual. He threw himself down in the other chair, his face lined with exhaustion, his eyes heavy with lack of sleep.

"Centaurs?" Sarah was vaguely aware that Dumbledore had hired a centaur to teach Divination, after Trelawney's ignominious sacking. Of all the creatures that lived in the forest, she would have expected centaurs to be at least remotely friendly. "Why would the centaurs attack a Hogwarts teacher?"

"Apparently out of their arrogant conviction that it is human beings alone who are the source of all evil. Heaven forbid they should sully the hands attached to their superior brains," Severus said sarcastically, "to do anything about it themselves. However, it seems they did us a good turn without intending to." He smirked grimly.

"They protected Potter?" That made no sense.

"Not intentionally, I think. But Umbridge has been in their tender care all night--would be still, if it were left to me. Potter did manage to get to London, while leaving her their prisoner."

"Well, good for him."

"Only," Severus snapped, "if you believe ridiculous amounts of attention are good for him."

Sarah groaned inwardly. "About Umbridge, I meant. And what do you mean attention?"

"Leading half a dozen students--some younger than himself--out of school; breaking into the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic; and attempting--with said group of students--to battle a squad of Death Eaters," Severus enumerated sourly on his long fingers. "All of which he somehow managed to survive. Which has made him, of course, the hero of the bloody day yet again."

"What about the others?"

"They all survived, miraculously it would seem. All except Black. I knew he would go after Potter. And now, thanks to the boy's own foolishness, his godfather is dead. Bellatrix killed him. I'm sure she enjoyed that." The sneer on his face suggested that he had no great sorrow over the man's death either.

Sarah could not help but feel a stab of pity for the boy; as an orphan herself, she could imagine what it would be like to lose yet another important person in her life. And she had never had time to ask Severus whether the man had really committed the crime he'd been imprisoned for. On the one hand it seemed unlikely, if he was one of Dumbledore's allies; on the other, considering that Severus was also among his allies....

He must have marked the doubt in her expression, because he said forcefully, "The man deserved what he got."

She frowned at him thoughtfully, not sure what to say, or even what to think.

With an uncertain mingling of anger and unease in his eyes, Severus stood up and said bluntly, "Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you. Or rather, with us."

"He's back?" It seemed too wonderful to be possible, after all they had suffered. "For good?"

"So I was led to believe. The Dark Lord entered the Ministry during the battle--perhaps one of the Death Eaters alerted him that the situation was going badly, although I'm not sure who would have been that foolish. Perhaps his connection with Potter allowed him to sense what was happening: that seems a good deal more likely. In any event, Dumbledore fought him there. A stalemate in the end. But Fudge could hardly continue to deny the Dark Lord's return or Albus Dumbledore's role in resisting him after that.

"It's very fortunate," he went on, "that neither of us were involved in any way in this business. The Dark Lord will be furious with those who failed him. Not only was he prevented from achieving his design, but now he is revealed to the whole wizarding world. That may prove to our personal advantage." He looked more pleased than he had yet done this morning. "As I said, Bellatrix was there."

"Killed? Captured?" Sarah felt a surge of hatred for the woman.

"Alas, no, apparently. But the headmaster may have better news by now." He extended a hand to help her rise to her feet.

She smoothed down her rumpled clothing as best she could. "Back stairs?" she asked. Even with Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts, even with the school year nearly at an end, it was still not safe for her to be seen leaving the Potion master's quarters.

"Floo," he said. "The Ministry monitors have been removed."

"Well, that's another good thing," she remarked, stepping over to take up a handful of Floo powder. "Professor Dumbledore's office!"

* * *

"Good morning," the reinstated headmaster greeted her as she stepped out of the fireplace. He was sitting at his desk, and he looked frighteningly weary, his face almost grey in the morning light. "Good morning, Severus. Won't you both sit down?"

Remembering uneasily the last time she had been here, she sank into the same chair as before. She glanced around, wondering where the Pensieve might be and whether Dumbledore had, in fact, used some magic to retrieve it. Fawkes' perch was empty, but a phoenix chick sat in the ashes underneath, reviving the bizarre notion of a phoenix ghost. She had forgotten to mention the incident to Severus, and the headmaster looked too resolutely fixed upon whatever was on his mind to distract him with such questions at the moment. Severus drew up a hard-backed chair beside her and sat down twitchily, as if he would rather be pacing the room.

"Well, Sarah," Dumbledore said, "I have been told that you have acquitted yourself most commendably in very difficult circumstances. I am sorry that it was necessary to place you in such an unpleasant position." He looked more than a little regretful; he had not, she realized, attempted to foist candy on her. But in spite of this, in spite of his praise, she felt her temper begin to rouse.

"Do you know what I've had to agree to do?" she asked tightly.

"Severus has kept me informed of your situation, yes. However, I think you will find," he looked to his Potions master at this point, "as I mentioned to you earlier, Severus, that your position has improved substantially. Several Death Eaters were captured at the Ministry. I now have their names: among them are Lucius Malfoy and Franklin Nott. So you see," he turned back to Sarah, "your uncle will be quite unable to enforce his part of your agreement."

"Thank God!" Severus breathed.

Sarah breathed a sigh of her own. It was as if a weight far heavier than she remembered had suddenly been lifted from her back. Still, there was a name lacking from that list to provide total relief. "What about Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Unfortunately, Voldemort rescued her--she was, I believe, the only Death Eater to escape. Still, he is not known for his forgiving nature, and the battle at the Ministry went very badly for him. Bellatrix will not be in any position in the near future to request favors from him. Do you concur, Severus?"

"She has always been a favorite, but such a failure will not go unpunished." But Severus was frowning.

Sarah, too, did not feel as encouraged as Dumbledore seemed to hope. "Won't that make her more likely to tell everything she knows? About us, I mean?"

"Perhaps," the old wizard conceded. "But she may wait. At the present moment, revealing the true extent of your relationship with Severus would benefit only Severus. Unless and until she can think of a way to turn the information to her own advantage, she will remain silent."

"We won't know anything for certain," Severus pointed out stiffly, "until I am summoned tonight."

"As you undoubtedly will be," Dumbledore agreed.

Sarah turned to Severus, fear stabbing through her heart. "He won't blame you?"

"He has no reason to. Draco Malfoy can confirm that I stood aside and allowed Dolores Umbridge to give Potter the opportunity to escape from the school. He knows that Potter is watched closely enough that sooner or later his protectors would catch up with him. He has no reason to believe that I played any part in what happened last night."

"He seems capable of taking out his anger on anyone near him," Sarah said grimly, not entirely convinced.

"So he is," Dumbledore said. "But he is not--for which we should all be grateful--entirely mad. Indeed, it is his reason, as well as a remarkable degree of patience, that leads him to spin such plots as the one that almost succeeded last night." His blue eyes stared at nothing for a long moment, and they were like deep, deep wells of sorrowful thought. Then he blinked, his eyes regaining something of their accustomed twinkle as they came into focus again.

"For now, we must make plans of our own. Your time as a student here, Sarah, will end very shortly. And your future, as you have just pointed out, is subject to forces beyond the control of any of us in this room. However, that does not mean we should abandon all efforts to tilt the balance in your favor. We have reason to hope that the events which took place last night will have strengthened your position. You believe, Severus, that she will be permitted to take the Potions apprenticeship?"

"There is no reason now to believe she will not. I have no doubt whatsoever of her N.E.W.T. marks. The Dark Lord will not reject the possibility of having another expert potions-brewer at his beck and call. Undoubtedly he trusts Sarah more than he trusts me."

She turned in surprise, shuddering at the thought. "Why would he?"

Severus wore a sardonic expression. "Because you have never given him reason to doubt your loyalty."

"But I have never given him reason to believe in it, either," she pointed out, puzzled.

"But your father did," Dumbledore put in unexpectedly. "You underestimate his tendency to view people as objects for his use. In that regard, one generation is very much the same as another in his eyes. A number of his current Death Eaters are the children of his associates in his youth. Your uncle, for instance."

"Did you never wonder why he is not a favorite?" Severus put in. "Why he remains on the edge of the inner circle? He is paying for his father's mistakes, not his own. Well, until now," he snorted.

"Which reminds me, Severus," Dumbledore said. "It seems probable that Lucius Malfoy's failure at the Ministry will put Draco, young as he is, in danger of Voldemort's displeasure. If you could keep a careful eye on him...?"

"The boy no longer trusts me," Severus said. "Even before the break with his father, he was becoming less and less amenable to my guidance."

Unexpectedly, one of the portraits on the wall spoke up. "Typical of that age," commented a green-clad wizard with a pointed beard. "The older the students get, the worse it is. They never listen. Until, of course, it is too late," he added in an almost mournful tone.

"Please, Phineas," Dumbledore said wearily, then turned his attention back to Severus. "Do your best."

The Potions master nodded shortly.

"Now, back to the topic I asked you here to discuss. I realize that the conditions of this apprenticeship will be difficult. I refer particularly to your child," he inclined his head toward Sarah. "I fear it would be unwise now to keep him with you at Hogwarts. If Voldemort were to learn at any point of his existence, it would immediately become clear that I, too, knew of it. Which would cast instant suspicion upon you both.

"And yet I hate to separate you. The love of a mother for her child is a powerful thing, Sarah. More powerful, even, than the love of a man for a woman. Powerful enough, in fact, to have protected young Harry Potter from Voldemort's Killing Curse. Although in a sense, the other...." Dumbledore was looking pensively at Severus, who squirmed uncomfortably, either at the old man's glance or at his words.

"Don't credit me with wanting to protect the boy," he broke in abruptly, to Sarah's bewilderment. "That was never my intention and you know it."

"And yet," Dumbledore said, a bit sorrowfully, "you have done so many times since then."

Severus did not answer.

"You mean, that's what saved Harry Potter from the Killing Curse?" Sarah asked, amazed. "His mother's love? Not any power of his own?" It was troubling to think that the whole wizarding world expected the boy--a boy who was, as it now seemed, not mysteriously powerful after all--to save them from the Dark Lord.

"Oh, yes." Dumbledore nodded. "Few people know of it, for obvious reasons. Voldemort learned in the end what had defeated him that night. And yet, for all that, I believe he continues to underestimate love's power.

"That is, of course, why I permitted the two of you to marry. Severus has the most dangerous job in the Order--dangerous to more than his life, as you have undoubtedly begun to understand yourself. To pretend to evil is a hazardous undertaking to the soul. The more so when one has done evil in earnest and turned from it. I value him and I also fear for him...more than I say." Dumbledore's eyes, shining with emotion, were turned to the younger man, whose face had developed a grudging expression of grim satisfaction. "I can offer him no better protection than your love for one another."

Sarah frowned slightly, remembering a far different reality about the last time she had been in this office. Had Professor Dumbledore misjudged the situation then? Or had he somehow known more than they had? She was not sure she wanted to know which it was; it was more comforting to assume the latter.

"The Order?" she asked, turning to another unexplained portion of his comments. Last night Severus had spoken of Dumbledore's compatriots. Apparently they were more organized that she would have supposed, if they called themselves an Order. Which was encouraging, given the Ministry of Magic's unwillingness to act.

"You haven't told her?" Dumbledore furrowed his bushy brows.

"No, I have not," Severus said defensively. "It seemed neither wise nor necessary to do so."

Sarah stared as pieces of memory fell into place. This was the very conversation she had overheard the last time she'd Floo'd into this office. She had not had enough information then to hear the capital 'O' in 'Order.'

"She has earned the right to know that others fight on the same side," Dumbledore said. He seemed about to go on, but he was interrupted.

"I will tell her," Severus said. "I would rather she need not conceal the memory of learning that information from you."

After a moment's consideration, Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "It is as well," he acknowledged, "that she not become a member of the Order. Formally, at least. The risks, as you say, are too great."

The headmaster sat up straighter in his chair. "We must return to other matters. As I mentioned before, it would be unwise now to keep your child at Hogwarts. Have you considered what you might prefer as an alternative solution?"

Sarah glanced quickly at Severus, knowing that their previous discussions of the matter had ended without a satisfactory conclusion. But with Dumbledore present to arbitrate, she ventured, "I've suggested me not taking the apprenticeship."

"I will not have your talent wasted!" Severus erupted. "I thought we had agreed--"

Dumbledore raised a hand to cut him off. "I must agree with Severus in this instance. The probability that the Dark Lord will order you to take the apprenticeship is too great to avoid making plans for that eventuality. Unless you wish to risk the Dark Lord making such decisions for you?"

Sarah looked down, shaking her head. "No, of course not."

"Severus?" Dumbledore looked to him. "Have you considered my suggestions?"

"I have. But I am not sure that it is safe to send him away altogether."

"Out of Britain?" Sarah asked, feeling a sense of alarm rising in her, despite the fact that she knew it was the most reasonable thing to do.

"I have friends in distant places who would welcome him and care well for him," Dumbledore said reassuringly.

"And if Bellatrix reveals that Sarah has a child?" Severus asked skeptically. "I doubt she would believe the old ruse that he died at birth. Nor would the Dark Lord, knowing we had tried already to conceal his existence. If he learns that much, he will want to know where the child is hidden, and if I cannot give him a satisfactory answer...."

"I see your point," Dumbledore said. "But it is quite a problem, is it not? A guardian that will suit all the interested parties."

If only, Sarah thought, I had not broken with Aunt Portia. But no, her guardianship would never satisfy the Dark Lord--that would only make it clear to him where Sarah's loyalties truly lay. And the rest of her family...she might have trusted Chester and Niniane, if they had not been so entirely under Aunt Fiona's thumb. There was no one else....

"Knockturn Alley?" she said, wondering why she had never seriously considered that before.

"An eminently reasonable solution." Dumbledore was clearly pleased by the suggestion.

Severus shifted in his chair, and Sarah realized why she had not considered it: he would never agree to it. She was not happy about it herself--the image of her son as one of those ragged waifs still haunted her.

Dumbledore fixed the younger man with a firm look. "Unless you would rather foster him with one of your associates?"

"As a matter of fact," Severus said, grimacing, "I was about to suggest Knockturn Alley myself. As little as I like the idea--and I like it very little--it may be our only choice. But only for the time being," he added forcefully.

"I understand," Dumbledore said. "And I do not believe he will have to remain there for more than his infancy. Time is growing short."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked uneasily. His words suggested a sword of doom hanging over them all--a stroke of fate, not the long and difficult war she had imagined.

Dumbledore looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, as if weighing how much to tell her. Finally he spoke. "Harry Potter was lured to the Ministry last night for a very specific reason. Not to kill him, as one might suppose, but to obtain an artifact, which was to be taken from him and brought to Lord Voldemort. Thankfully it was destroyed before it could be brought away."

The headmaster paused again. "That artifact was the record of a prophecy--the very prophecy which led him to try, unsuccessfully, to destroy Harry as a baby. He only knew part of that prophecy at the time: the information was brought to him by one of his servants who happened to overhear a portion of it." Sarah, anxiously alert, did not miss Dumbledore's sudden glance at Severus. "It was his belief that if he could hear it in its entirety, he might learn how to prevent its fulfillment."

"What was the prophecy, then?" Sarah's fingers tightened on the arms of her chair. She was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"In short, that a particular boy would have the power to defeat him--a boy we now know to be Harry Potter. I'm afraid that it would be unwise to tell you more, for reasons I'm sure will be obvious to you."

Her proximity to the Dark Lord, of course. Sarah frowned, not at the headmaster's reticence, but at the awfulness of her own position. She felt Severian writhe in her womb, as if in sympathy to her feelings.

"Is there a way for Potter to defeat him? Again, I mean. For good?"

"You will have to take my word for it," Dumbledore smiled ruefully, "but yes, there is."

"We can only hope so," Severus interjected sardonically. "What fool will be teaching him Defense Against the Dark Arts next year?"

"I assume," Dumbledore said, "that you will be applying again for the position?"

Severus sat up straight, obviously startled. "I hadn't intended to. Certainly not if Sarah is permitted to take the Potions apprenticeship."

"Hmmm." Dumbledore fingered his beard.

"You can't mean to offer me the position now?" Severus sneered in disbelief. "Surely I would have been preferable to that Ministry cow this year, but no--"

Dumbledore, although apparently unruffled at this outpouring of frustration, nevertheless interrupted it. "With the Ministry so determined to interfere, it seemed best to permit them to fill the Defense position."

"And damn the results!" Severus said angrily. "Why consider this now? When I am least able to accept it?"

The headmaster sighed. "For a number of reasons, Severus. One of which is that I am, quite frankly, running out of possible candidates. The curse has, after all, been operating for over thirty years."

"Curse?" Sarah interjected. There had always been rumors that the Defense position was cursed--certainly they had never had the same teacher for more than a year, except for Professor Quirrell. At the beginning of her first year, all the older students had been gossiping wildly about the fact that the previous year's Defense master, Professor Dent, had suffered a spectacular breakdown in mid-year. But his replacement--Professor Quirrell--had not returned either: he had decided to take a year off "for experience." Which had left Sarah and her classmates to be introduced to the subject by Professor Frost, a painfully slender witch who had never let them forget for a moment that she was "only temporary," brushing aside all questions in class with the observation that "undoubtedly the great Professor Quirrell will be able to answer much better than I possibly could, when he returns from his grand study tour." Sadly, although he had lasted through her second and third years, Quirrell had not been much of an improvement. And at the end of her third year, he was supposed to have died while trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone--under the influence, some said (those old rumors had certainly been revived this year) of the Dark Lord's disembodied spirit. As for his successors, Professor Lockhart had ended up in St. Mungo's, the victim of a memory charm gone wrong; Professor Lupin had been revealed as a werewolf; Professor Moody had turned out to have been an imposter--actually a Death Eater; and it was obvious that Umbridge was going to be sacked, if she didn't choose to leave of her own accord. Hardly a stellar record.

"Alas, yes," Dumbledore answered, turning to Sarah. "Long ago, when Voldemort first began his rise to power, I refused him the position. As he surely must have known I would do. I have long believed that part of his reason for returning to Hogwarts that day was to unleash the curse, thereby assuring that the subject most necessary to resisting him would become difficult or impossible to teach, leaving the next generation of witches and wizards poorly prepared to fight against him."

"Well, he has certainly succeeded in that!" Severus broke in sharply. "And for fourteen years you have refused the alternative."

"I have, Severus. For reasons we have discussed many times before. My opinion has not changed. If I were to give you the position, it would only be with the expectation that it would be your final year of teaching at Hogwarts. But I have begun, of late, to consider whether that might not be the best thing at this point."

Severus went pale, the anger draining from his face. "What do you mean?"

"As I was about to explain to Sarah a few minutes ago, before I was diverted from the subject, I do not expect the final confrontation between Harry and Lord Voldemort to be delayed much beyond the ending of Harry's seventh year. The protections I have given him will fail when he reaches adulthood, and Voldemort knows that he must be prepared to strike swiftly then, before Harry can grow any further in power. The closer that time approaches, the more desperate Voldemort will become for any knowledge which he believes will be of use to him in destroying Harry. He will press you as never before, Severus, and it will be become more and more difficult to withhold information and still prove your loyalty."

Sarah bit her lip. It was a miserably plausible suggestion.

"So, you mean to use the curse to send me away from Hogwarts?" He sounded unconvinced, but his face remained very pale. "And what if--as I have argued so many times--the curse does not apply to me? You know I was sent here by the Dark Lord to obtain that very post. I fail to understand why you continue to dismiss Quirrell's tenure. The very fact of his second year, before he was actually possessed, proves that any of his servants--"

"No, Severus, I dare not call that proof." Dumbledore shook his head. "There are too many unknowns in the nature of the curse. We cannot discount the possibility that my experiment to try to retain Professor Quirrell, despite its tragic outcome, may have worked."

"Do you not think it more likely," Severus asked, with a hint of venom, "that when you sent Quirrell off for the year, you were giving the curse an opportunity to do its work?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened, showing that this was a new suggestion in what was obviously a long-standing argument. He frowned deeply. "Alas, that may be, although it pains me to think I sent that young man inevitably to such a terrible fate. But that does not change the fact that Barty Crouch, Jr.--despite being Voldemort's servant--did not manage to overcome the curse."

"Given that you did not, in fact, hire him, I will continue to deny that his fate has any relevance," Severus said stubbornly.

"We will not have this argument again." Dumbledore's voice had grown firm, his expression equally so. "The fact remains, we cannot assume that the end result would be any different, were you to take the position. But you would then be relieved of the necessity of spying upon me. And Voldemort could cast no blame upon you for the loss of your post."

"And if I'm right, what then? Would you still find an excuse to discharge me, to protect your precious Potter?" The words were bitter. "And what of Sarah?"

"Have you considered, Severus," Dumbledore asked, "that it might be better for the two of you--and your child--if you were no longer bound by the necessary strictures of this school?"

The younger man's face grew paler than before, and something in his expression made it clear how very much he was, in his own eyes, still Dumbledore's student. "I do not wish to leave Hogwarts."

Dumbledore did not answer; he simply looked at Severus, with a regretful expression on his face.

"You promised me--" Severus began heatedly.

"I remember my promises very well," Dumbledore said mildly.

"Being dismissed--"

"I do not intend to dismiss you. If you are right and I am wrong about the curse, I imagine that between us we are clever enough to create an excuse that looks like the operation of the curse."

"It would still appear to be a failure." Sarah could hear a hint of desperation in his voice. Perhaps he realized it himself, because he shifted to sarcasm. "And full-time employment with the Dark Lord is hardly likely to prove an impressive credential to the board of governors."

"A man who has been instrumental in the overthrow of a Dark Wizard need not fear that his former reputation will prevent him from achieving his goals," Dumbledore said. "And remember that those former Slytherins who survive this war, whether they supported Lord Voldemort or not, will want partisans of their own in positions of power, to protect their interests and to prevent a backlash. You will, in fact, be ideally placed. After all," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily, "Slytherin heroes are in short supply just now."

Sarah watched the frown slacken and the tightness ease from Severus's brow, although doubt remained in his eyes. "Heroes," he snorted.

"If it makes you feel any better," Dumbledore said, "I have not decided anything yet. But I wanted you to be aware of the possibility."

For the first time in several minutes, Severus glanced at Sarah. "If I did take the position," he asked, "what would that mean for Sarah's apprenticeship? I can hardly convince the Dark Lord to permit her to take it if I am not to be her teacher."

"No doubt Voldemort will expect you submit your application for the Dark Arts position, as you have done every year--to do otherwise would arouse my suspicions. And to refuse the position, if offered, would raise my suspicions further. If I have already convinced the new Potions master to accept Sarah's apprenticeship in your stead, Voldemort cannot rescind his decision without casting suspicion upon both of you."

"Do my apprenticeship with someone else?" Sarah protested. "Have I nothing to say about this?"

To her shock and surprise, neither of them answered her, and Severus asked warily, "Whom would you hire to teach Potions?"

Dumbledore eyed his Potions master speculatively. "I believe I could convince Professor Slughorn to come out of retirement."

Severus snorted. "You know I refused his apprenticeship myself."

"I had always supposed that it was your pride that got in the way, because you were his second choice."

Severus' face seemed to freeze, as did his voice. "That had nothing to do with it. The man is barely competent to teach N.E.W.T. level."

Finally Professor Dumbledore turned his attention to Sarah. "I am afraid, Sarah," he said, "that your choices are even more limited than Severus's. But it would only be for one year."

"And I would complete my apprenticeship as the assistant to the Dark Lord's potion-maker?" It was grim idea. But, she realized, it had always been there, waiting. Even if she had completed her apprenticeship with Severus at Hogwarts, the next step had always been potion-maker to the Dark Lord.

"There would be compensations I cannot offer you at Hogwarts. The chance to live together as man and wife, to raise your own child." Dumbledore suddenly sounded as weary as he had looked when they came in. He did not have the energy to persuade her as he had persuaded Severus, she realized. But his eyes were pleading with her.

Had she not begged Severus, only yesterday, for some means of having both her son and her husband with her? And now Professor Dumbledore was offering--no, almost enforcing--that very thing. If love was, indeed, the power he had said, then he was handing them a lamp to light the dark path ahead, a shield that even the Dark Lord could not break.

"It seems we have little choice," she said. She looked to Severus.

"I would prefer to give Sarah extra tuition in Potions myself," he told Dumbledore. "I would find the time."

"Doubtless that could be arranged," Dumbledore agreed.

"You realize, I hope," Severus whispered, "that my future rests upon your judgment, Headmaster. All of my future." Without warning, his hand shot out and clasped Sarah's where it rested on the arm of her chair.

"I do," Dumbledore said quietly. "But I hope, Severus, that you realize that all our futures may very well rest, in large part, upon you." His eyes were no longer twinkling as he fixed the other man with the most serious gaze Sarah had ever seen.

There was a silence then, a very long silence, which Sarah had neither the courage nor the inclination to break. Finally, Severus shifted in his seat and let her go, as if suddenly realizing that he had demonstrated his affection in a more public manner than he would have chosen. Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Please excuse me," he said. "But I have done more in a single morning, with far less sleep, than I have done in decades. I expect you to maintain the proper degree of discretion through the end of the term. But I will point out that, at present, no one is certain where Sarah is supposed to be. And I daresay you have a great deal to discuss with one another."

"Yes, Headmaster," Severus said, standing. He made to usher Sarah toward the fireplace, but she had not stood. She was looking at the very old, very tired wizard across from her. He seemed more frail than she had ever imagined their spry and robust headmaster could ever be.

"Will I ever speak with you again?" she asked.

"I do hope so, Sarah," Dumbledore said. "As for your report tonight, Severus...unless it is something of vital importance, it can wait until morning."

Severus nodded. Sarah got to her feet, feeling that she must look rather foolish, struggling this way to stand up, and for no visible cause. With a final backward glance at the headmaster, she picked up a handful of Floo powder and cast it down.