Philomena

***Plots Within Plots***

Narcissa Malfoy was tired of her husband leaving and not telling her where he was going. Being called by the Dark Lord was one thing, but simply disappearing at three in the morning was a bit much for her to be expected to accept gracefully.

Disgruntled at being awaked by her husband's departure, she decided she had endured enough. Slipping on her dressing gown, she padded out of the bedroom, through the chilly halls to her husband's lab. Smiling grimly to herself, Narcissa wondered if Lucius even remembered half of the equipment he had, considering that he seldom, if ever, used it himself.

"Let's just hope to Merlin he's forgotten about the Scrying Mirror," she muttered to herself, setting it up and keying it to Lucius. "Activare."

The surface of the mirror swirled wildly as it sought an image. Lady Malfoy leaned back in her chair and waited, contemplating what she'd do to her husband if she caught him in an untoward situation.

XXX

Rabastan had already left the lab for the night. Antonin grimaced as he went over what they had succeeded in so far. Rabastan had indeed got quite a bit further on his own.

Antonin considered the containers of blood and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Surprisingly, they looked identical excepting for the labels. Antonin sighed and wondered whether all blood looked the same. If one couldn't tell the difference between Lord Voldemort's blood and the blood of a servant of his, could one tell the difference between Pure Blood and Half Blood; between Half Blood and Mudblood? Sans the Essence attached, could one even tell Magical Blood from Muggle?

Both samples looked rather the worse for the wear and he didn't want to think of what would happen if he dared to ask for more from either party.

"We're so close," he muttered under his breath. "Pity we have to sabotage it."

"Quite," said Malfoy silkily, entering the room. "A pity, yes. Or it would be, if we could figure out a way to do it."

Antonin sighed. "I suppose Snape could find a solution. He has worked with Blood Magic before and as I remember he was quite good at it, an expert in fact. The fool gave it up for his Potions Mastery."

Lucius nodded thoughtfully. "Yes," he mused. "We'll have to get Severus to ruin it for us. If he can't do it, nobody can. Powerful man, Severus is, eh what?"

Antonin shrugged. "Quite powerful," he agreed. "Best of the best."

"Too powerful," said Lucius suddenly. "Far to powerful. We'll have to ... do something about that."

"Beg pardon?" asked Antonin, looking up from his work in surprise. Had Lucius just suggested harming their ally?

Lucius stared long and hard into Antonin's eyes. "He's the only one who can remove the present problem and he's the only one of us close enough to Potter and Dumbledore. He's the only one who can manipulate the pair of them. We need Severus now to remove all obstacles to our defeat of the Dark Lord. Later, Dolohov, we will need to eliminate Severus."

"Eliminate?" Antonin's eyes widened in fear, but he dared not look away.

"Yes." Lucius' voice was like iron in velvet. "Severus is too powerful. Too powerful by half. When the Dark Lord is killed, I'm sure his old ambition will come back into force. He'll want to rule alone, and we won't be able to keep him in check."

"So you want to..."

"We have to kill him," said Malfoy. "Once he's figured out the solution for the Blood Magic, and Dumbledore is dead. Only Snape has the finesse needed to manipulate our Lord into doing anything and persuading him to kill Dumbledore before Potter will be a challenge. After Dumbledore's death, we need him to keep Potter in a fit state to kill our Lord. After that..."

Antonin took a deep shuddering breath. "How?" he asked.

"I'm sure an opportunity will present itself," Lucius remarked with little concern. "And what's to say that in the confusion of a battle, or through some Ministry blunder, a tragic accident..."

"I see," said Antonin quickly. "I suppose... you're right." He bent his head slightly, avoiding Malfoy's gaze. He told himself he was doing the right thing. Those who disagreed with murder plots generally became the subject of them.

"Great minds think alike," purred Malfoy. "I'm glad you agree. And when the time comes, our rule will truly be one of greatness. Now, I'm sure you have to be getting home. It is rather late, is it not?"

Antonin understood he'd been dismissed. He stood up, feigning just the right slightly apologetic look and said, "It is, Malfoy. So sorry to go off like this but I truly do need to be getting to bed. There's only so much Pepper-up a man can take, after all. Good night."

Malfoy smiled to himself as Antonin shuffled out. "Good night, Dolohov," he called. "And if you see Severus in the near future ask him for his advice - or at least for access to his library."

"I shall do so," Antonin said over his shoulder. "Good night."

Antonin disappeared round the corner. Malfoy's smile widened as he saw that, as he'd intended, Antonin had left the notes out on the desk. He shuffled through them quickly.

"They've managed it after all," he thought to himself. "Or very nearly."

Malfoy pulled out his watch and gave it a glance.

"Ten minutes before Severus arrives," he muttered to himself, replacing the watch in the inner pocket of his robes. "I hope to Merlin the two don't meet in the hall."

Both Malfoys waited impatiently until Severus appeared in the doorway.

"Good evening, Lucius," he said softly.

Lucius started violently and cursed in French. "Damn you, Severus," he finally managed. "How do you manage to slink like that without making any noise?"

Snape smirked. "It's a combination of my ability, practice and charisma."

Malfoy frowned. "Severus," he said. "I need your help."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "You need help? Who are you, and what have you done with my cousin?"

Malfoy gave an exasperated sigh and got to his feet. "Severus," he said. "I don't trust Dolohov."

Snape raised both eyebrows. "Really? From the way you were plotting treason with him a while back I rather thought you did. My mistake."

"Severus Snape, you will take me seriously, or so help me I'll sic a gorgon on you," threatened Malfoy. "I am in no mood for your humor."

"Gorgon?" asked Snape. "Your wife, you mean?"

Malfoy relaxed enough to smile. "She's more of a harpy, Severus," he said. "But, in all seriousness, Dolohov... look at the work he's been doing. Remember our plan? To make sure that the Blood Magic project failed? I realize we hadn't figured out a single way to do that, none of us are as expert as Blood Magic as you, but you'd think he'd have stopped actively working on it at least!"

Malfoy gathered up the entire pile of notes and shoved them at Snape. Snape looked at them with a detached air of interest, flipping through them at random.

"Calm yourself, Lucius," said Snape carelessly. "For this you've called me from my well earned sleep? Rabastan isn't completely stupid, and Antonin knows that because he isn't completely stupid. Antonin can't just stop working on the project, or Rabastan will become suspicious, perhaps even report his disobedience to the Dark Lord."

"Snape," sighed Malfoy, "you don't understand. I've been watching this room lately. Rabastan hasn't been here for the past week. Antonin has been, and continued to spend long hours here in spite of our agreement."

Snape returned the notes. "Funny, then," he said carelessly, "that the notes happen to be written in Rabastan's handwriting."

Malfoy silently cursed himself for not finding out how well Snape knew the others before putting his plan into action. "I didn't say he'd written them," he lied smoothly. "I said he was working with them. Look at what a state that blood is in. He's obviously been trying to work with it."

"Tamper with it more like," said Snape dryly. "It's congealed. We both know you can't use it for anything when it gets like that."

"Perhaps he intended to use it in powdered form, in which case he would have needed it to clot and dry first," said Malfoy, thinking fast.

"Perhaps you are getting paranoid in your old age," returned Snape easily. "There's obviously nothing wrong. Relax, Lucius. All we're doing is undermining the entire structure of the world, and setting ourselves up as its supreme rulers. Nothing to worry about, really. Honestly, man, you've faced your wife. Surely you can face a little intrigue without having kittens?"

"I am not paranoid," snapped Malfoy. "I am simply... suspicious."

"Then wait until your suspicions have some ghost of proof," returned Snape with a shrug. "In all seriousness, Malfoy, for a moment I thought you were going to suggest we murder Dolohov on the eve of our wedding night so to speak."

Malfoy turned an interesting shade of red. "I meant nothing of the sort," he said hotly. "I was simply..."

"You do realize what happened in the last really noted Triumvirate?" asked Severus lazily. "It consisted of Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus. Crassus was killed in some unimportant skirmish or other. Pompey and Caesar ended up struggling with each other for ultimate power, ultimately plunging Rome into civil war. Caesar received Pompey's head as a 'gift.'"

"What are you trying to say, Snape?" asked Malfoy icily. "What relevance has any of that tripe?"

"That 'tripe' is history, Malfoy." Snape's voice was deathly calm, his eyes betraying not a flicker of emotion. "They may have been Muggle, but that only makes them easier to analyze. What I mean to say is that in the end it won't be my head on that platter."

Without another word Snape left the room with a swish of his cloak. Malfoy seemed about to shout something after him for a moment, but resorted instead to banging his fist on the table in frustration causing both jars of blood to rattle ominously.

XXX

From her post Narcissa frowned in anger. Her husband, her Lucius, was plotting the death of Snape and apparently Dolohov as well. Not only that, but he was planning on overthrowing the Dark Lord himself. He had even dared to compare her to a harpy.

"You'll pay," she promised her husband's image. "You devious hypocrite, a brilliant plot, in a way, but I simply can't let it come to completion. How dare you plot against our Lord?"

Knowing he would be back soon, she quickly deactivated the mirror, and rearranged everything back as it had been. When her husband arrived back home, he found her fast asleep.

***Magic of the Heart***

Remus watched from the doorway as Philomena surveyed herself critically in the mirror, trying to get used to the way she looked. She frowned and performed a quick altering charm on the cut of her robes. She surveyed the results with her head to one side.

"Tighten it about the waist," said Remus, startling her. "Make the skirts fuller, and pleated."

She whirled about, embarrassed.

Remus smiled reassuringly. "It's perfectly understandable," he said easily, "after having to look at the same reflection for a good six years."

Philomena gave an embarrassed smile and turned back to the mirror. "You think so?"

Remus shrugged. "Of course," he said.

She turned back to the mirror and made the alterations he'd suggested. "Like that?"

"It's a popular style," laughed Remus, "but I shan't let you out of the house looking as good as all that unless you're armed with a club."

Philomena grimaced. "Not that I'd be able to use one," she muttered. "Never was any good at self defense. In any form."

Remus' eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "No good at self defense?" he repeated. "But..."

She sighed exasperatedly, stepping away from the mirror and sinking onto the couch. "If I could defend myself would I have spent six years in a child's body? Let them bleed me?"

"I'll admit I wondered about that," said Remus carefully. "When I saw what control you had without a wand..."

"That's just it," she snapped. "Control."

"Did Ralf use his connection to -?"

She waived an exasperated hand. "No, no. He didn't need to. It's... I can't use magic when I'm frightened."

Remus frowned. "But... on the full moon, you..."

"I didn't," she insisted. "Not until we were outside. When I felt safe."

Running a hand through his hair, Remus sat himself opposite her. "I think I told you that I teach Defense," he said. "And I want you to know that... fear is something so fundamental that it cannot be eliminated. Everybody has fear. Even the Dark Lord, I am sure, is afraid of something.

"One cannot ... hide from fear. One must learn to compensate for, to function in spite of, fear. Courage is not a matter of being fearless, but of facing one's worst fears. One must recognize one's fears, so that one can learn how to-"

He came abruptly out of his lecture mode when he heard a bitter laugh which was almost a sob. "You don't understand," she grated out. "When I'm frightened my Magic leaves. It's physically gone."

"Physically?"

"I feel it," she insisted. "You'll think I'm mad, but I can feel my magic. It's... it's like a ball of energy in my heart. When I use it, it heats up and warms me through. When I haven't used it, it grows cold, like ice. When I'm afraid- it's gone. It melts..."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," said Remus confusedly. "No matter what your abilities, Philomena, or lack of them, I promise I'll help you develop them. I knew when you first told me that your Magic wasn't normal, considering that Wandless Magic is not a human gift. It is probably the effect of being born to a Werewolf and, as Snape told me, your physiology is slightly mutated... It's indeed possible that your Magic is bound to a physical core, much like mine is usually channeled through the core of my wand."

She shuddered. "It's a weakness," she said. "I suppose it wouldn't matter if I wasn't such a coward. It also leaves when I get overly excited over anything."

Remus frowned, considering. "Your heart," he repeated. "Fear and excitement cause an erratic pulse. Perhaps that's the reason."

Philomena shrugged. "What difference does it make why my magic leaves? It's not a repairable condition; the fact remains that I'm useless in a fight. Always have been. I've read so many books on Physically Bound Magic, and secretly written to so many Mediwizards, specialists... they all said it couldn't be separated, rebound, changed, or even made to channel through a wand as usual..."

Philomena," said Remus softly, "you're not useless. You are a powerful woman. Perhaps you are not so in every situation, but that doesn't matter - every one has a weakness. You are a Seer, with the power to control your Visions. You are capable of extremely advanced Wandless Magic. You are a beautiful woman. True, this ... stuttering... of your magic will make you unable to do certain things, but I'm sure going into battle is not one of your ambitions, and I'm certain you are capable of fulfilling any other ambition you might have."

She relaxed into a small smile. "Thank you, father," she said. "I... I'm afraid I'm just having trouble getting used to it all. Remembering that it's real. I still wake up some mornings, startled to realize that yes, I live here, and it wasn't a dream. That I can call the Visions, that the Pulses are there. That I'm in control of my condition. That..."

"It's not a condition," Remus chided softly. "It is a gift."

Her smile widened. "It wasn't before," she said. "You made it into one. You and Mr. Snape."

She leaned on his shoulder and listened to his steady heartbeat. For a long moment, neither said anything.

"Blue," said Remus suddenly.

She lifted her head slightly to look at his face. "What?"

"Give the robe blue trim," he clarified. "Bring out your eyes."

She smiled, and dropped her head back on his shoulder. "I'll think about it. You're not being kept from something volatile in the lab are you?"

He shook his head. "Nothing liable to explode. As a matter of fact, I've finished proving that those cloak pins simply aren't practical. The silver has too much of an unpredictable effect on them. Sometimes it leeches the spell, but others it boosts its power or even causes it to malfunction..."

Philomena grimaced. "They should set them in steel. It's a neutral metal."

Remus nodded. "That, or gold. Gold has strengthening properties and I don't think it will react badly with the opal. I think the main reason the silver isn't working, is because both it and the opal are Negatively charged... They need an opposite component to work to best effect."

"Negatively?" she asked confusedly. "I thought both were Light elements."

"Yes," he answered, "they're both light. But all Magic, or Energy has either a Positive or a Negative configuration. It's purely a matter of Metaphysics- Positively Configured Elements are compatible with Positively and Negatively configured elements. Negatively Configured Elements are only compatible with Positives."

"I see," she said. "Then why did they set the opal that way? If they knew they wouldn't be compatible."

"That's just it," explained Remus, allowing a bit of his frustration with the project to show through. "They didn't know. The artist who made the collection happens to be Muggle, and hasn't the faintest idea what they're used for. We are required to use Muggle goods, since the Ministry has Bases controlled. They'd know we were doing controlled research without a permit - which we'd never get because Milo and I are part human and the others on the committee aren't exactly in the Ministry's good graces. We're also on a tight budget because we just so happen to need to train our forces for a war, which we aren't doing officially either since officially we aren't at war. This in turn means that we simply can't afford to special order something fancy. We take what we can get."

She frowned thoughtfully. "Ralf dealt with Bases," she mused. "Dark ones mostly, but also the rare ones, or the especially powerful restricted ones which bring in a large profit in spite of being Light Magic. As far as I know, his business is still running strong. He's never had trouble with the ministry, because he's a Squib, and they aren't under the same level of surveillance. I suppose the ministry figures that a Non-Magical Entity is incapable of breaking a Magical Law..."

Remus' face hardened. "Fools," he grated. "I don't know which is worse, the extent of the Surveillance Spells or their inadequacy. On the one hand we're watched at every turn and are prevented from doing the most basic things. On the other, it is perfectly possible to implement the same sorts of Spells to track Unforgivable Curses, and they don't do that."

Philomena sighed. "I'm sorry for bringing that up," she said. "I was just suggesting that you could use a similar angle. A Wizard source is impossible since it'd be illegal for him to sell it to you. A Muggle source is less than ideal since they don't have the correct product. What you need is a Squib to be your middleman. Legally, they may purchase anything from a Wizard."

Remus laughed. "Not that simple," he said. "I'm quite sure it's against Ministry policy for a Werewolf to own half of the materials we need, and -"

She held up a hand to stop him. "It's not illegal for you to use them. It's illegal for you to purchase them. A Squib is allowed much more freedom in the magical world than a Wizard, which is something I'll never understand. I suppose the Ministry Officials think that simply because they can't operate a dangerous object it ought to be all right for them to have it, buy it, sell it..."

Remus blinked. "However did you get so familiar with Wizarding Law?"

She smiled. "I went through Ralf's legal papers, of course," she said. "I was the one that took care of his filing system and the office. He simply didn't think it would occur to me to actually read them, instead of simply looking at the title and pushing them into alphabetical order."

"You... kept his office?" Remus asked carefully.

"Oh, I didn't do anything illegal," she chided. "I just took care of incoming and outgoing mail, complaints, requests..."

"How large was his organization?" asked Remus suddenly curious. "I knew he had a shop in Knockturn Alley, but-"

She laughed. "Shop in Knockturn Alley," she repeated. "Father, Ralf is not only the head of an international black market. He is head of the only international black market in both Magical and Muggle goods. It's the largest criminal organization in the world. He's got a finger in every and any smuggling market possible. Not only that, but he runs several legitimate businesses on the side, including a chain of Banks which operate in every conceivable currency, in every conceivable country."

Remus blanched. "I had no idea..."

Her eyes glittered. "You're not supposed to have an idea. Nobody's supposed to have an idea. Don't misunderstand me - I hate Ralf and have hated him for quite some time - but I can't help but admire his cunning. Not one member of his organization realizes the scope of it- in fact most of them don't even know there IS an organization. No branch of it has any idea that the same man controls the others. Frankly, I don't know how he's managed to do it."

"Merlin," breathed Remus. "It's got to be stopped. The Ministry..."

"They know," said Philomena blandly. "The strange thing is, father, that he manages to do all of these things with complete legality. He's incredibly slippery with the law, knows every last loophole. They can't stop him, because it would be illegal to stop him, even though the things he's doing are absolutely illegal for others."

"He's broken plenty of laws," snapped Remus. "Your treatment for one."

Philomena shook her head. "He was my guardian," she said. "And what he did qualified as 'medical treatment.' The bleeding, and even keeping me in virtual stasis, was officially prescribed by a legitimate doctor as a treatment for the Visions. It did have some relevance, as well; when one's anemic, one's powers are diminished and one isn't physically capable of having a Vision. If one's body does not mature, the Seer gift cannot mature, thereby essentially guarantying it cannot get 'worse.' Actually, father, I believe the only officially illegal thing he's done is to bite you, and have a daughter."

Remus shook his head in bewilderment. "It's too much to believe."

She nodded. "The sheer scope of it is mind boggling," she agreed. "He is so careful to keep his own hands clean- though his agents and employees are an incredibly corrupt lot. Even if the Ministry were to convict them all, they wouldn't have anything to convict him of. Barring your going forward, of course, which you can't because that would implicate yourself as well. No matter how many of his people are taken by the Ministry, he can always find a replacement, or simply cut off the attacked branch and concentrate on the remaining ones."

Remus wrinkled his brow and considered this.

"I'm sorry," Philomena said suddenly. "I didn't mean to bring any of this up. I just remembered that I do know where you could get the Bases you want. There's a shop in London, run by a Squib. To the Muggles, he's just another jeweler. It's called the Fantastique Boutique..."

"I'm not funding Ralf's international black market," said Remus coldly.

She shook her head. "He doesn't do business with Ralf," she explained. "I know because I've had to post Ralf's bimonthly plea for him to join and have filed his monthly refusal. From what I can tell, although he isn't completely above board, he has an extreme dislike of working for others."

"I'll look into it," Remus said distractedly.

She sighed. "I'm sorry," she said.

"None of it's your fault," he said firmly. "You couldn't have done anything to prevent it, nor did you willingly do anything for it."

She nodded shakily. "I suppose so."

The Wards rang out, startling them both. The smoke spelled out:

Recognized: The Enigma. Armed: Wand Emotion: No Reading Available.

Remus dispelled the smoke with an impatient hand. "Impeccable timing," he grumbled. "Wonder what's gone wrong THIS time."

She jumped up. "I hope he's all right," she said. "He wasn't looking to well last time I saw him."

"That would be lack of sleep," agreed Remus. "I do hope he managed to pull himself together over the week. He can't afford a slip up."

She looked at him quizzically, but he didn't think it his place to explain the myriad things that could go wrong if Severus let the smallest thing slip, or made the smallest mistake.

Remus went to open the door for Snape when he knocked softly. "Good evening, Remus," said Severus quietly. "I'm here to collect you for a rather sudden Order Meeting."

"Good evening to you, too," said Remus dryly, thinking that he would have laughed at somebody who suggested a month ago that Severus would voluntarily wish him a good evening. "How bad is it? What happened?"

Snape waived a careless hand. "Oh, nothing deadly," he said. "Just the routine, 'we have a small problem that one of us could solve in ten minutes, but we must discuss every angle of for three days before we eventually get around to doing anything about it.'"

Remus raised an eyebrow and led the way back into the living room. Philomena rose when the two entered. "Good evening, Mr. Snape," she said.

Snape smiled at her. "Ms. Lupin," he greeted. "You are looking quite well."

"As are you," she replied. "I hope you are doing better."

He shrugged. "I don't recall feeling poorly."

She gave Snape a pointed look which he ignored and caused Remus to hide a snigger.

"I'll warn you, Severus," he said, "she takes after my mother, with a demonic bedside manner. She's worse than Poppy when someone's ill."

Philomena turned red and seemed about to defend herself, when Snape cut in with a curt,

"We have an Order meeting in half an hour, Lupin. I suppose I don't need to remind you that this will be the first time Albus has had a chance to talk to you since Ralf came hopping into the last one. He'll have questions and you need answers."

Remus blanched.

"Oh don't tell me you haven't thought about it, Lupin," chided Severus. "You knew all along it was going to happen and that you weren't going to like it."

"I know that," replied Remus. "It's just that I thought he'd have had it out with me a while ago and he didn't. I was starting to think it had blown over."

"With Albus, things like this do not 'blow over,'" said Snape. "I am sure the plan still stands as we made it in the beginning. However, I have a feeling your daughter, with her Seer ability, could be quite... useful to us all, and therefore I believe she will have to be told."

"I shall not involve her in any of this, Severus," said Remus firmly. "She's not joining."

"She needn't of course, if that's what you wish," placated Snape. "When you knew you were going to take her in, you knew it would involve the Order. Now while she needn't join, and I am most definitely not suggesting that she go on any mission, I do believe it is necessary for her to know what is going on. While most people believe that the less one knows the less one can betray, as a professional I must insist that most secrets are revealed because those who hold them do not realize that they are not to be mentioned. It is your decision, of course, Lupin, but I need you to make it now. Do we tell her about the deception, or not?"

"I am in the room, you realize," said Philomena crossly. "I'd appreciate your either telling me, or keeping it from me properly."

"Well then, Philomena," said Remus, trying to calm his nerves. "Sit down. We are going to have to explain several things."

"We don't have much time, Lupin," said Snape. "I'll wait outside if you wish."

"Don't be a prat, Severus," snapped Remus. "You drove me into telling her this, you're going to stick it out."

Snape smiled serenely and sat down. "As you wish," he said quietly.

Remus took a deep breath and began his story.

***Explanations***

"Are you familiar with the Werewolf Code of Conduct?" asked Remus.

Philomena nodded once.

"I assumed as much," said Remus. "Then you know that it is illegal for a Werewolf to have children. The penalty therefore is death, not only for the parents, but the child as well."

She nodded again. Snape was carefully not looking either of them in the eye.

"So you'll see it's vital that nobody knows who you are," said Remus. "Especially since officially, I'd have had to turn in Ralf as my Alpha and my failure to do so is another felony. Severus and I came up with a plan so that... no one would be suspicious of you, or bring the matter up within the Ministry."

"You want me to hide again," she stated bluntly.

"Not so much hide as stand in plain sight and act as though you belong there," said Snape. "We came up with a plan, and frankly, I think it'd go smoother if you knew about it."

"And that is?" asked Philomena.

"Briefly put," said Remus, "I brazenly go in there, and tell them you're my daughter. Which makes them all think I'm lying, since as far as they know I haven't got one, couldn't have had one. Which makes them think I'm covering for somebody else."

"That's where I come in," added Snape, "letting slip that I know you fairly well, being relatively affectionate, yet claiming I've never seen you and that I couldn't hate you more. Which leads them all to think that..."

"I'm your daughter," finished Philomena. "I see it, now. That's why you thought it was funny to make me call you daddy... It's a brilliant plan."

Remus started. "You planned that?" he asked Snape. "I thought..."

Severus smirked. "Your daughter thinks like a Slytherin, Lupin," he said. "You don't have the subtlety and I'm afraid you'll never gain it, though you do have the secretive and deceptive attributes."

"And what is my part in the deception?" asked Philomena.

"Simple," said Snape. "You pretend to be my daughter pretending to be Remus'."

Philomena blinked. "I pretend to be pretending to be me?"

Snape nodded. "Precisely. It shouldn't be that hard. Just be yourself and occasionally pretend that you aren't."

"We don't have a lot of time," said Remus. "So I'll explain the Order. You remember all I've told you about the resurrection of the Dark Lord, and how the Ministry hasn't been moving against him? Well, the Order of the Phoenix was founded by Professor Dumbledore in the last war, to fight the Dark Lord. We have gathered again now since nobody else is making a move."

"I see," said Philomena. "Then you're naturally top-secret, illegal and highly dangerous?"

Snape nodded. "Slightly more socially acceptable than other top-secret, highly illegal and dangerous organizations."

"You want me to join this, Mr. Snape," she continued. "In what capacity?"

"That of a Seer," replied Snape simply. "You're the only Seer on this earth now who can call a Vision at will, from anybody. You could be invaluable."

Philomena shook her head. "They aren't set truth," she insisted. "Just probability."

"Even that can be of extraordinary use," countered Snape. "While I do not like the future read for myself, personally, I know it can be of great strategic value, if only in morale. If people believe a certain thing will happen, they work harder towards it than if they don't."

"In short, a sort of public relations campaign, then," said Philomena. "You don't need a Seer to tell them what they want to hear."

"No," admitted Snape, "but I'd need a Seer to make them believe what they want to hear."

"But, Severus," protested Remus, "you can't prove her a Seer either way. People are always skeptical of -"

"A blood test, Lupin," chided Snape, "proves Seer blood, not necessarily ability. I'm sure that after a few Visions which prove reasonably accurate they'll learn to trust her."

"I'll do it," she said suddenly. "Why not? It would do me some good to leave here once in a while at any rate."

"Yes, I'm afraid I have been keeping you walled up in here like a jealous old man, haven't I," admitted Remus. "I'll have to do something about that."

"We haven't got much time," reminded Snape. "We should get started."

"I rather think it would make a better impression if we all showed up late together," said Philomena.

Remus frowned. "No it wouldn't," he contradicted. "It's not good form to show up late for your first meeting. Makes a bad impression. Besides, the time of the other members is valuable and making them say things twice is not a good use of it."

Snape smiled sinisterly. "On the contrary, Lupin. I think it's a simply marvelous idea. Particularly since I asked Dumbledore for a revealing letter for a 'new member' just this morning and didn't explain... They'll all be on tenterhooks waiting for me to unveil my new contact and when I don't show up, they'll fear something's gone wrong. When you don't arrive, Dumbledore will remember the Ralf episode and think something's gone wrong on your end, suspecting that your problem is related to mine since I told him the Potions I was brewing lately were for you, though he didn't believe me. Then we all three arrive together..."

"And naturally, Dumbledore will think that I'm related to you," finished Philomena, "since if I were Remus' child, he'd have asked for the revelation letter."

"You planned this all, Severus?" Remus asked weakly.

Snape nodded. "I always plan everything, though I admit things do not always go according to those plans."

"You already asked him for a revealing letter?"

In response, Snape pulled a small scroll from his cloak, and handed it with a half bow to Philomena. Curiously, she unrolled it and read:

The Order of the Phoenix is located at No. 12, Grimmauld Place, ~Albus Dumbledore

She read it, and looked askance at Snape and her father. "Fidelius charm, I suppose?"

Snape nodded. "It is. I toyed with the idea of relying on your Connection to her, to have her mysteriously appear without the letter but that would be too strong a parallel to Ralf for Dumbledore to miss, and besides, he already suspects me of having a way to subvert Fidelius."

"Dumbledore thinks you have a way to subvert Fidelius?" asked Remus. "Why?"

"Because Peter Pettigrew gave away Lilly and James and he still hasn't accepted that sad fact," said Severus bitterly. "He thinks Voldemort subverted the Charm somehow, and suspects that I brought Ralf in a convoluted plot to kill you."

"That's ridiculous," snapped Remus. "Somebody's got him Confunded."

"Thank you very much for your vote of confidence, Lupin," said Snape dryly, "but I'm afraid the Headmaster doesn't agree with you, though I would be indebted if you took the blame for that last instance."

"I'll most certainly assure him you had nothing to do with it," promised Remus. "It's out of character for him to say such a thing. I don't understand it. He's always trusted you."

"He's always said he's trusted me," corrected Snape. "I don't really think he does. He hasn't for a while and he's said as much. It stands to reason of course, you were always his golden boys, no fault of your own of course, and I was always in the wrong for whatever petty thing went awry. He still thinks that if I hadn't fought back we could have become five merry little friends having picnics on a meadow somewhere."

"He's delusional then, or is up to something extraordinarily odd," said Remus firmly. "Much as it pains me to say it, James and Sirius were never ones to let up on anybody. If anything, they'd have hurt you harder if you hadn't fought back just to get a reaction out of you."

"Damnit Lupin," snapped Snape, "let's not rehash the past right now! I've got enough on my plate as it is. We've made a certain sort of peace for the duration of our agreement, but if you go about apologizing for old foolishness I don't think I can help but bring old grudges to the fore."

"I'm sorry, Severus," said Remus softly. "I'll most certainly speak to the headmaster about Ralf, though. I still can't give him an answer, of course, but I'll assure him it has nothing to do with you. If you'll allow me, I'll rehash the other with him, too."

"Perfectly all right with me," grated Severus. "Just don't expect me to join the conversation. I've already said all I'll say on the subject to him, and I don't want to be there when he realizes his theories are worthless."

"If you two don't mind," interrupted Philomena quietly, "we have a meeting to be fashionably late to."

"Quite right," agreed Remus. "We'll have to Floo; Philomena can't Apparate."

"Good," said Snape. "Joint Floo entrances are always nice and dramatic and do away with the notion that you arrived separately just happening to walk in the door together."

"I'll get my written report and the samples I need to return," said Remus. "I'll be right back."

Remus walked quickly out through the door on his way to the lab.

Philomena conjured herself a simple cloakand threw it on over her robes. Snape wrinkled his brow critically.

"More proof of your usefulness," he said. "Wandless control of that caliber would be wanted by anybody."

"I'll talk to you about that later," she said quickly. "Please don't mention it at the meeting. I'm not prepared to explain it to anybody else, but you may as well know that my abilities aren't consistent."

"To what extent?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

"I can't function in a panic," she said. "My Magic deserts me, then. Otherwise, do you think I wouldn't have used a Calming Spell during your panic attack last Moon?"

Snape looked quickly around to be sure no one had heard before relaxing again. "That could possibly be worked around," he mused, "depending on what causes the failure. We can talk about it later."

Remus returned with a small box and his book of notes. "We're already ten minutes late. Do the strategists think that's enough or do we wait longer?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "It's quite enough thanks to your dawdling on the stairs, Lupin," he sniped. "We'd best get on with this."

With a bit of awkward maneuvering, the three managed to fit themselves in the fireplace at once, and it was Snape who tossed the Floo Powder and shouted, "Number 12 Grimmauld Place!"

***A Bit of Truth on the Side***

The Floo of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place flared to life. Snape tumbled onto the floor just as Remus staggered onto the hearth and Philomena stepped out of the fireplace with deceptively easy grace won by hard practice. Ignoring the confused babble that arose, she took Remus' elbow to stop him from falling completely and held out a hand to help Snape back to his feet. Snape shot the girl a glare hard enough to whither a chestnut tree at twenty paces but took her hand nevertheless, hauling himself up.

There was a shocked silence as the Order took in the sight. Remus, fidgeting awkwardly to get the residual ash of his robes, Snape standing with a pose just daring anybody to mention his ungainly entrance, and Philomena standing with a serenity that belied her inner nervosity.

For a moment, nobody said a word.

It was Molly who eventually broke the silence. "For Merlin's sake, you two had better explain yourselves! We've all been worried sick about the pair of you! Severus, Dumbledore told us you'd requested permission to bring a new contact and when you didn't arrive we'd figured you'd misjudged their character and were probably dead or dying..." She quieted, when her husband took her arm and gently shook his head.

"You'd better have a good reason for making us wait half an hour," griped Moody. "And who is that."

Severus gave a grimace. "I believe Lupin is better qualified to introduce my contact than I am."

Remus took a deep breath, carefully not looking anybody in the eye. "This is Philomena, my daughter."

"But- but- how?" spluttered Tonks.

"I hope I don't have to explain how to you," snapped Severus, "and I should assume that there are some women of this world to whom even a slavering monster is better than nothing at all."

"Severus," scolded Dumbledore sharply.

While the Order was preoccupied watching for Remus' reaction, Snape took the opportunity to take Philomena's elbow and lead her to the nearest empty chair.

"I apologize for our tardiness," said Remus, trying to hide his agitation. "It's entirely my fault."

"Stop spluttering like a fool, Lupin," snapped Snape, quickly taking his usual place. "We've wasted enough time on your stupidity as it is."

A babble arose from the Order, as they all began to talk at once. Remus sighed deeply and waited for them all to quiet down. Finally they did, looking confusedly between the three.

"Severus, Remus, if one of you would kindly explain," said Dumbledore.

Remus turned to Snape and silently begged him to do the talking. Snape was about to explain when Philomena rose to her feet, drawing all attention to her. "If you would permit me?" she asked Dumbledore. He nodded.

"I know that you do not hold much by the Bloodlines of old, and fight against those who believe they should reign supreme," she said, her voice clear and steady. "This is just and right; as blood does not define the character of men, nor does it guaranty their worth.

"However, some of the old ideas of blood have a basis on fact. Certain abilities are hereditary, and cannot be learned by those without the Gift. From my parentage I have inherited such a Gift, although I was told for many years it was a Curse.

"At the request and urging of- of Mr. Snape and my father, I have decided to offer this Gift, and my services to this Order, in the hope that in doing so I may benefit the Light."

While she spoke she had been carefully drawing a few Pulses from each member, drawing the shortest visions of the immediate future available. From these she gleaned information such as the names of most members and those most likely to be skeptical.

Silence greeted her pronouncement, as she reseated herself. A corner of Snape's mouth twitched and he nodded gravely to her in acknowledgement of her deliberate slip.

"I was aware that lycanthropy was hereditary," said Kingsley carefully, "and that those born to the Curse are rumored to be able to ...Change at will, but..."

"She is not lycanthropic," snapped Snape, inwardly pleased for such an excellent opening, outwardly furious. "How dare you insinuate anything of the kind?"

Kingsley, completely at a loss, looked over at Remus, who blurted out, "She didn't inherit that, thank Merlin."

"Mine is not the blood of the Wolf," said Philomena, "although that is a small part of my nature. Mine is the Blood of Cassandra, the Ancient, whose Curse has descended to her daughters through the ages."

Even Dumbledore looked a trifle surprised at that pronouncement. Moody snorted loudly, breaking the mood her words had created. "A Seer?" he mocked. "We're at war, and you bring us a Seer? What good is someone who's got their nose so far into some foggy smoke or other trying to see what's ahead that they can't see what's going on in the present?"

"I should thank you not to judge before you know me, Auror Moody," she returned, "and before you speak, Auror Tonks, might I make it quite clear to you that I am in perfect control of my Gift; I do not wait for Visions, I draw them to me at will. Though I cannot control what I See, I can control when, for whom and how long."

"Can you prove it?" snapped Moody, annoyed that she had caused him to start at the sound of his name.

She shook her head. "The Future is not fixed. What I See is not always what comes to pass. I See possibilities, not certainties."

Snape smirked. "I assure you that I have run extensive tests on her Blood. She does indeed have the Gift, the mantic nature of the blood quite prominent. It's been tested extensively."

"So was Trelawney's," pointed out Moody. "And we all know what she's worth. I'd like some indication of her power."

"You will allow me to make a prediction pertaining to the next five minutes?" asked Philomena.

Moody gave a harumph of assent.

Philomena smiled. "I shall write it down, and give it to you, then. Remember, it is not concrete, but merely a possibility. I shall try to select an incident of high probability, in the interest of preserving time."

Moody nodded, and Kingsley handed the girl his quill and a sheet of parchment. "Has anyone an objection to my Seeing for them?" she asked. "It is a quite personal matter."

Snape gave her a pointed look, which she acknowledged with the faintest of nods.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with repressed excitement. "My dear girl, if you can See, I'd be simply delighted!"

"Then it shall be for you," she said. "If you will allow me a moment?"

Deciding it would look best if her Gift did not seem effortless as Snape had told her to hide her measure of Power, she feigned a look of intense concentration as she selected a Pulse sitting at the end of Dumbledore's nose, which appeared to be of the correct size and intensity. She pictured the feeling of intense hunger, and held out her right hand as the Pulse sailed into it. She closed her fist about it, and shut her eyes, trying hard to look as though it were difficult. After a moment, she dropped the act and carefully shielding the parchment from others she scrawled out her prediction, folded it over, and handed it to Moody.

Moody's magical eye read it without needing to unfold it:

There is a high probability that Dumbledore shall end the meeting with the words, "This meeting is adjourned, in favor of Molly's delightful cooking," and have a fall leaving the table.

With a harrumph, the Auror handed the note, still folded, to Emaline Vance. "Keep that until the end of the meeting," he growled. "We'll know by then."

Hestia Jones made an impatient sound in the back of her throat. "Could we please get back to the discussion we were having a moment ago? I believe Dumbledore or one of the others can arrange a mission for the lady as soon as they see fit, should it be necessary. In the meantime, we were rather busy."

"Yes, yes," agreed Dumbledore. "I suggest we give those who came late a quick rundown on what has already been said before going any farther."

"We were discussing Harry Potter and the security measures we have been taking on his behalf," said Arthur quickly. "I'm sure you know he's been practically confined to the castle since September, because of the risk of an attack. We were discussing the possibility of Re-Warding Hogwarts, or perhaps some object of the boy's, since constant guard is impossible."

"There are several small problems with that," said Remus. "To begin with, Re-Warding Hogwarts would take more than a week, in which time the present Wards would have to be removed. We cannot afford such a vulnerability, especially considering the inability to keep anything secret within Hogwarts."

"Also, Warding the castle against all those with Dark Essence isn't feasible for obvious reasons," added Snape.

"And we can't keep him locked in forever," added Dumbledore. "He hasn't complained, but then again, he has been keeping to himself rather much this year. I believe..."

"Headmaster, the boy has been on the most wanted list of the Dark Lord ever since he was born and you never saw need to lock him in before," dead-panned Severus. "I hadn't realized that was policy and would like to know why I was not informed."

"You must have realized, Severus," said McGonagall, "he hasn't gone on Hogwarts weekends, hasn't played on his team, isn't even allowed to go out on the Grounds alone now."

"When he stopped playing, I simply assumed he actually took an interest in his studies," returned Severus crossly. "And contrary to popular belief, I do not spend every second of my time monitoring the comings and goings of students. Do you mean to say you've kept him indoors all this time?"

"We've found it necessary after the unfortunate events of last year," sighed McGonagall. "No, he hasn't been out unless accompanied by a teacher. I do believe it was mentioned in a meeting back in September."

"I missed several then, due to being in Albania," pointed out Snape. "If you'd told me sooner, I could tell you how absolutely useless your precautions are. He's no safer inside the castle than out. If an attacker should make it to the grounds, which is no mean feat in the current state of things, he should have no trouble simply opening any of the school entrances. None of which are Warded against anything at all.

"To be sure the ancient Protection Spells of the Founders are in place, but they've not kept the Dark Lord out before, and I'll tell you why - they still recognize him as a student. In fact, all current Death Eaters are recognized as under Hogwarts' personal protection according to the old Magic in place. I've brought this up time and time again, but nobody's seen fit to tamper with the spells in place.

"There's no reason to give the boy claustrophobia on top of all his other deficiencies. The only reason there hasn't been a massive attack on Hogwarts before now is because it is believed to be difficult. I can see some sense in preventing the boy from going off to London on his own, or the like, but the rest is going much too far.

"Two chaperones are considered enough protection for the others traipsing about Hogsmeade; should they not be enough for Mr. Potter he could be provided with an emergency Portkey, a precaution we should have taken some time ago in any case. The Gargoyles do watch over the grounds and will alert the Staff in case of an emergency. They have never failed in the past so there is no reason why Potter should not be allowed out.

"Frankly, I've noticed that the boy is increasingly restless, and it's affecting his work in all my classes. I had wondered what was wrong, but was assured by those I asked that nothing was amiss."

"If you please," said Philomena. "Might I make a suggestion?"

"Carry on," said Snape. "Whatever you say can't be stupider than locking up the Savior of the Wizarding World and nearly demolishing what little sanity he has left."

"A Tergum Visum would be advisable," Philomena said softly. "I do realize it is in Essence a Dark Spell, but as I understand it his scar is of Dark Essence as well, so it would not upset his Balance."

Snape slammed his fist on the table. "Absolutely not," he snapped. "Out of the question."

"I don't think it's even possible," put in Tonks. "It has to be put on newborns... nearly kills them, too."

"It's perfectly safe to transfer the Spell from a Carrier," explained Philomena. "It would be a bit of a risk, no more so though, than an immunization or any other protectional measure. The most that can happen to him is unconsciousness for a short period of time, or a fever. I've seen it done."

"We happen not to have a Carrier in our group," said Severus acidly. "And even if we had, the Tergum Visum is an unforgivable thing to inflict on anybody."

"I shall have our Warding Team look into the possibility," said Dumbledore. "Seaking of which, Remus, if you please, your report on the that Broach Project."

Remus sighed and brought out his box of clasps. "The Committee regrets to report that the project is a failure. The possibility of personalized Warding is still valid, but impossible using the material at hand.

"The Silver in which the Opals were set is a Negatively Charged Element and therefore reacts detrimentally with the Base. It leeches any spell bound in the Opal, drawing it out of the Base, and thereby dramatically reducing its potency. It remains effective only for a matter of days. All attempts at blocking this reaction have failed. We are looking into other avenues of supply in hopes of finding a base of the same quality, without the unnecessary silver. We return the undamaged samples."

Emmaline Vance took the box. "Pity," she said. "They were quite pretty. I'll return them to the shop then. Let me know if there's something else I can get for the committee."

Moody's magical eye swiveled from the box in her hand to the clasp at Severus' throat, but he said nothing.

"As for you, Severus?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, I do believe there was a small matter of a jar of Nundu's breath that needed to be disposed of," Severus said. "I do remember mentioning it to you."

"He hasn't got hold of that," cried Tonks. "We won't be able to fight it - he'll cause an epidemic!"

"He wasn't much interested in the epidemic, just the resulting panic," said Snape. "The effectiveness of which you've just so kindly proved to us. I retrieved it in time, though I'd sleep a fair bit easier if there were a safer place for it."

"Gringotts," said Bill, at once. "I've a high security vault that's keyed to my Magical Signature."

"That should be satisfactory," said Snape. "The Dark Lord believes it lost and as long as we don't give him a reason to suspect it is in existence, then all is well."

"That will be all," said Dumbledore. "I believe we've covered everything we wished to cover. Unless there are any objections, this meeting is adjourned, in favor of Molly's delightful cooking. I believe she's quite outdone herself."

A scraping of chairs followed this pronouncement, as the members rose. With a cry, Tonks tripped and sprawled into Dumbledore, knocking him to the floor. Immediately Hestia and Emmaline rushed to help the man up, while Molly assured a panicked and apologetic Tonks that no harm had been done.

"Cerce's swan song," swore Moody. "It's happened."

Philomena smiled and looked at her fingers. "I thought it likely."

"What happened?" asked Bill. "What did she predict?"

"Read it," commanded Dumbledore.

Emmaline brought out the parchment and unfolded it. "She predicted your words of a moment ago," she said. "And your fall."

"You see dear," assured Molly. "You couldn't have done anything. It was foretold; it's all right..."

Snape snorted. "I've seen more impressive party tricks."

The Order began to buzz as the parchment exchanged hands and was subjected to all manner of Revealing Spells as they searched for any evidence of cheating.

In the midst of the confusion, Dumbledore appeared by Remus' side, asking quietly, "A word with you in the other room, my boy?"

Remus nodded, and followed him, noticing from the corner of his eye that Philomena was talking animatedly with Sturgis Podmore.

***The Headmaster***

Dumbledore took Remus by the shoulder and led him into what used to be Mrs. Black's study. The room had once been magnificent; a large bay window overlooking the garden, an ornate desk with an armchair, and more bookshelves than even Madam Pince could wish for. Now, the bookshelves were empty, the desk destroyed, and the windows overlooked a tangle of weeds. The décor had become a parody of itself, the carpet stained and frayed, the walls peeling paint in spite of the Maintenance Charms.

It was one of the few rooms Molly had yet to work upon. Sirius had expressly forbidden anybody to enter or use it, though he had never mentioned why. Molly respected his wish, and refused to remodel the room. The other Order members had never seen any reason for it to be forbidden but still only used it on occasion, as it was by no means a pleasant place.

"Remus, my boy," said the Headmaster, leaning against the sill of the bay windows. "I haven't had time to bring this up before, but I need to know just what happened last meeting. Who was that man?"

Remus took a deep breath and said, "I never wanted to tell anybody this, but I know you won't let it rest until I do."

Albus simply smiled and gestured for him to go on.

"The man whom you saw was my Alpha, as I told you," said Remus. "I'm terribly sorry about the abuse of your trust, but at the time you asked I was unable to tell you, and later there was never a time to mention it."

Albus blinked. "Your Alpha," he repeated.

Remus shut his eyes and nodded.

"Go on, my boy."

Remus looked up surprised that no comment had been made about his lies of omission so long ago. Albus' twinkle had receded, replaced by a look, not of anger, but of concern.

"He merely wished to say goodbye. He's left Britain," Lupin said cringing inwardly at the inadequacy of the explanation.

Dumbledore expression became slightly bemused. "And I suppose fond farewells are quite commonly composed of shouting, fistfights, and kneeling about on the floor?"

Remus sighed. "Understandably, I never liked him very much. We've never been on good terms. Added to that he brought me very unexpected news which he didn't break to me well."

"He kissed your forehead," Dumbledore pointed out, "and you gave him access to Order headquarters. Not exactly the actions of those not on good terms."

Remus made an impatient gesture. "I didn't give him access to Headquarters. I couldn't have told him our location even if I'd wanted to; you are our Secret Keeper, not I. Our connection simply bypasses that. I had not heard from Ralf for eighteen odd years, so I wasn't expecting it to be a problem."

"You hadn't heard from him in eighteen years, yet he came to say goodbye?" asked Dumbledore. "After eighteen years, he calls you love?"

"That was not a term of affection," said Remus. "That was simply his way of sugarcoating his control over my Wolf. He did not come merely to say goodbye; he had certain ... things to tell me. None of which have anything to do with the Cause. Please, Albus, you've never made me discuss the Wolf with you. This is a part of that, and not anything else."

"Quite personal, then," mused Dumbledore. "Still, I must ask."

"You did hear everything," said Remus stiffly. "There's no reason to go over this again."

"Yes, there is, as he did mention that your daughter was alive, and you are now caring for her," replied Dumbledore. "You should have told me of her existence."

"I made a mistake, I was young," countered Remus. "She was born in my last year of school. I was afraid; you know the law... and then I was told she was dead. I saw no reason for anybody to know."

"Her mother?" asked Dumbledore carefully.

"Not living," replied Remus shortly, thinking inwardly that was true in a sense; Moony would not exist for another month.

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," said Remus. "I've long since come to terms with it."

Dumbledore absentmindedly played with his watch, staring at the whirling planets without really seeing them. "I don't understand why you've revealed her now. You took a great risk."

Remus ran a hand through his hair. "As I told you, I thought she was dead. I'd rather not explain that, if you don't mind. Ralf had been caring for her, but can no longer do so. While under my roof the girl has shown great promise, she has great gifts. I could not hide anyone in my house for very long without questions being asked. I thought it better to tell them at once, rather than have to explain to each in turn when they found out."

Dumbledore gave a noncommittal murmur, and repocketed his watch. "I see, I see," he said. "And Severus' Blood Magic project, of course, has nothing to do with you, and he didn't threaten you to get you to go along with whatever it is he's planning, am I right?"

Remus blinked. "Pardon?"

"Remus," said Dumbledore gently, "please remember that I do believe in second chances. Whatever you've done, I'm ready to help you. There's no need for you to hide Severus' manipulation."

Although pleased that the plan had worked, that suspicion had been diverted from the truth, Remus was appalled at how easily Dumbledore had fallen into the trap, and how readily he accused Severus.

"Severus hasn't done anything," protested Remus. "Every last word was the truth!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I trust Severus implicitly," he said. "I know he'd never do anything he thought would harm our Cause. But I know you, Remus. You would never do what you've claimed. Never have a child while you were still in school; never simply accept the rule of another; never lie to me."

"But I did!" protested Remus desperately. "I did, and Merlin knows I'm sorry for abusing your trust, but, Albus... I was alone, I didn't know what else to do, I..."

Dumbledore just looked at him. "I know you, Remus," he said again.

"It's true that Severus and I have come to ... an agreement," said Remus. "He has done me a great favor, and I owe him one in return. Believe me, he's done nothing to force me into anything. How dare you say you trust him, and then turn around and say that you suspect he's been manipulating me?"

"I trust Severus," repeated Dumbledore, "though at times I cannot agree with his methods. I have no doubt that whatever it is he is trying to accomplish is something he thinks will bring us all good. I trust that he has the correct end in view; I cannot be sure his means are right."

"'The end justifies the means,'" said Remus. "I can't count the times you've told me so, nor how many times I've told you I don't agree. None of this has anything to do with the matter at hand, however."

"Hm, you still claim you have nothing to do with his mysterious Blood Magic project, nor the fact that one of the clasps is obviously not damaged, but is in fact being used at the moment?" asked Dumbledore keenly.

"There was no Blood Magic," insisted Remus. "He explained at the meeting; he tested her blood to make sure the gift was real and that the lycanthrope was not malignant. As for the clasp, that is between Severus and myself. I told you, I owed him a favor. That is all you need know."

"Fidelius," said Dumbledore suddenly, "is a fickle thing."

"There's no way to subvert a Fidelius," sighed Remus. "No way to reveal the secret without being the Keeper, and no way to find the secret without it being revealed."

"Your Alpha seemed to manage," said Dumbledore grimly.

Remus waved an exasperated hand. "He didn't find Grimmauld Place, he found me. If asked, he would not be able to give directions to this place, nor could he find it again, unless I was here and he was looking for me. If asked, he would not be able to remember where he'd been. He found me through our connection, not by anything else."

"This connection," said Dumbledore carefully, "is it intact?"

"No," answered Remus. "He severed it, and even if he hadn't, he's left the country."

"The connection has been open before?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes glinting with interest.

"Yes," admitted Remus, hoping the Headmaster would not be able to figure out the connection between this bit of information and the rest. "He opened it briefly while I was in school."

"I see," said Dumbledore, sounding as though he didn't see at all, but merely didn't wish to pursue the subject further. "You do realize that you've placed yourself in an extremely delicate position by ... claiming to have a daughter."

"I know the law," said Remus. "I also trust each person in that room not to enforce that law."

Dumbledore put his head to one side and stared into Remus' eyes. Remus stared back, ignoring Moony's insistence that he look away. Remus suspected Dumbledore was using his gift of Legilimency to find any sign of betrayal, but knew that his mind was exceptionally difficult to read due to the Wolf.

Finally, Dumbledore gave up. "I don't know what you are trying to do, Remus," he said at last, "but I hope for your sake it goes right. Take care of her, whoever she is."

Remus sighed. "Headmaster," he began awkwardly, "I... I want you to know that Severus hasn't done anything wrong. I know you suspect him of all manner of things, not the least of which is hiding the secret to breaking Fidelius, but please believe me when I say that..."

He trailed off, astonished to see that the other man was laughing at him.

"So he's told you, then," chuckled the Headmaster. "Yes, that was one of my more brilliant ideas."

"Brilliant ideas?" repeated Remus, aghast. "To suspect a man of nothing?"

"Nonsense," said Dumbledore, getting off the windowsill, "I trust Severus completely, as I've told you quite often. However, I know the man keeps a great deal to himself and only allows himself to say what he feels in anger. He's been rather run down lately, and hiding a great deal from me. He needed to let loose at somebody, and it was better that it be me."

Remus realized his mouth was open and shut it with a snap. "You ... you pretended to distrust him so that he would loose his temper?"

"Precisely," said Dumbledore, sounding slightly pleased with himself. "I'm quite sure he felt a great deal better after yelling at me for a half an hour."

"You realize that he believes it," said Remus. "He believes you don't trust him. He thinks you... don't appreciate his work. He's unhappy."

Dumbledore smiled, and shook his head at Remus. "Severus never completely trusted anyone in his life," he said simply, "and he'll never believe that anybody else could possibly trust him. He's also never really been happy, but my trust would not change that. It's simply his way. Besides, if I never pretended to doubt him, he'd believe my trust was a façade. Better to have him believe I have only a little faith, than for him to doubt I have any."

Remus shook his head. "Forgive me for saying this," he said, "but one day, all your plans will collapse and knock you on the head."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "They occasionally do," he said. "For instance, when I sent Hagrid to tell a certain two boys to befriend a third particularly shy boy, I never dreamt that I'd brought together the greatest menace the school had ever seen, instead of a quiet group of friends."

A shadow crossed Remus' face. "There were four of us, Albus," he said. "Denying Peter's existence won't make his betrayal any less real. He's alive, and I can't help but think that maybe, someday, he'll have an explanation. A reason... that he'll come back to us."

Dumbledore sighed. "Pettigrew was an anomaly," he said. "I never guessed what courage lay under his skin. He seemed so weak. I assumed he was."

"What courage?" asked Remus bitterly. "He bent so quickly to the will of others."

Dumbledore sighed. "Courage is acting in spite of fear, not without it," he said. "Peter was deathly afraid of Voldemort and still is. There is a certain bravery in a willingness to act against the wishes of all one's friends, a certain bravery, stoicism even, in the act of betraying them in spite of one's love for them. It is not a noble act, but a brave one nevertheless."

"He simply chose the lesser of two dangers," said Remus sadly. "I didn't let myself believe it for so long. "

"No, he chose the greater," stated Dumbledore with conviction. "There's a far greater danger in joining Voldemort's forces than in fighting him. Voldemort does not deal lightly with his followers, and does not accept anything less than perfection."

Remus wrapped his arms around himself and turned away. "What other explanation is there?" he asked. "I knew he defected for over a year before that awful day. Why, if not to escape death?"

Dumbledore's face took on a thoughtful expression. "I don't know," he answered simply, "and I don't believe there is ever an easy answer to such a question. I suppose he sought anonymity."

"Anonymity?" repeated Remus. "I don't understand."

Dumbledore spread his hands out in a gesture of helplessness. "How many of us were there, that openly stood against Voldemort? Very few, Remus, very few. Every one of them was immediately known for their defiance and marked as a threat to Voldemort's power. Nobody knew who stood on Voldemort's side. His followers were secret, masked, and silent. No way to know who was one of the Dark Lord's men, aside from the mark, which is all too easy to hide."

Remus pursed his eyebrows and looked back at the Headmaster. "You think he found it safer to be a drone among dozens? I suppose that does make a sort of sense."

"Why do you think he did it?" asked Dumbledore.

Remus shrugged. "I've asked myself that so many times, and have never found an answer that satisfied. Mostly, I assumed that he simply valued his own life above that of his friends, or the safety of the world."

"Who can say why, or even when, a man turns to the Dark? " asked Dumbledore. "If I knew, if I could find out why..."

"You could ask Severus," suggested Remus. "After all, he knows better than the rest of us."

"That is one thing of which he has never spoken to me," said Dumbledore heavily. "Yes, vague hints that it was his only choice, but never a reason. Or even a time, though I know roughly when he joined."

"You do care for him greatly," said Remus. "Why don't you ever let him know that?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I cannot," he answered slowly. "It's too much of a risk. Voldemort, should he access his mind, and find... no. I must not become attached."

"That's the same trick you tried with Harry," Remus pointed out, "and it backfired spectacularly last year."

Dumbledore sighed again. "It is hard to make such decisions, harder to carry them out, and harder still when they fail."

Remus considered this. "What about all those years after the fall of You-Know-Who? There was no reason then you could not befriend the man. To be quite blunt, Albus, you've never dealt fairly with Severus."

"Yes, there was a reason," Dumbledore defended himself. "Because I could not allow myself to become attached should Voldemort return, as I believed at any moment he might. He did, in time."

"You did become attached, nevertheless. You had to have become attached to even consider it a danger," protested Remus. "And why is it so much worse for Severus, or Harry to have a friend in you, than it is for me, or for any of the others? You cannot ... you cannot make a decision as to whom to like, and whom to allow to like you. You've ample proof it doesn't work."

Dumbledore shut his eyes. "As I said, it is hard."

A silence fell, as Remus tried to quell the urge to shout at the man, and Dumbledore tried to keep from admitting that Remus was right. Finally, Dumbledore said, "Would you go find Severus for me? I need to speak to him."

Remus nodded, and left without a word.

***Suspicion***

Most of the Order filed out of the room, intent on getting a plate full of Molly's cooking, as Dumbledore led Remus aside. Philomena remained in her seat, wanting to wait for either Snape or Remus to give her a lead.

Moody grabbed Tonks by the arm and dragged her to the entrance hall. Sturgis winced as Moody's voice shook the rafters, "Years of training you've had, girl, and yet you haven't gotten it into your head that knocking over the Supreme Mugwump is a Bad Idea Class B6! Constant Vigilance!"

Kingsley was about to go after them, perhaps to stand up for Tonks, but Sturgis grabbed his arm. "Don't," he said. "You'll make it worse."

"Leave her alone, Moody!" shrieked Molly's voice, causing several men in the room to wince. "It was a simple accident!"

"Accidents should be avoided!" roared Moody. "Aurors don't HAVE accidents! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Kingsley cast a quick noise shield and the screaming from the other room became quite muffled. The others sighed in relief.

"Thank Merlin that man never taught defense at Hogwarts," muttered Snape, "it would have been a disaster."

"His imposter did," rejoined Sturgis, "and none of you noticed it wasn't him, so he might as well have."

"He didn't do that badly," snapped Severus. "Bar the nonsense Crouch taught about Unforgivables, he was actually decent. Moody would have them listening so closely to their Dark Detectors they'd not hear the Castle explode about their ears."

"I'm sure he'd have taught them well," objected Kingsley. "I've seen him train new Auror recruits. He changes so much in the classroom you'd never believe it. He's got a classroom persona of such gentle patience that when they move to field training they'd probably not recognize him if it weren't for his eye and leg."

"And nobody can teach worse than Trelawney, anyway," laughed Sturgis. "Is she still teaching?"

"The position is held jointly," explained Snape. "Her and a Centaur, Firenze. And somebody CAN teach worse that that woman. Lockheart. If that popinjay ever gets out of St. Mungos, remind me to avoid Flourish and Blotts."

"What does Trelawney teach?" asked Philomena, trying to keep up with everything said.

Snape snorted. "Divination," he said.

Philomena laughed. "It is a Gift. It cannot be taught."

"Theory can," corrected Snape, "though Trelawney insists on having her students practice what they cannot possibly achieve. Firenze has much more sense. He knows they can't understand a word."

"There's something I don't understand about your demonstration tonight," mused Kingsley. "You said the future was not fixed, correct?"

Philomena nodded. "There are an infinite number of possibilities, yes. Man has Free Will."

Kingsley frowned. "And yet you managed to predict what happened quite accurately. If there are so many possibilities, how did you choose one? How did you know?"

"I did not See one Possibility, but many, as you said," agreed Philomena. "However, while they were not all the same, many shared common events, or characteristics. Nearly all showed Auror Tonks to be clumsy, nearly all showed Dumbledore leaving the table first. I combined that with the knowledge I had, and the current circumstances, and deduced the most probable outcome."

"But his exact words," Kingsley pressed on. "You'd written down his exact words."

She smiled. "I Saw the possibility of several ways of wording what he was about to say," she answered. "I chose one at random. I was lucky."

Sturgis shook his head. "Impossible."

"For you, perhaps," she said. "I had no reason to choose the one I did, but for me it is an instinct to see what is more likely. I cannot explain. It is in my Blood."

Mundungus Fletcher wobbled unsteadily into the room. Sturgis sighed and Snape wrinkled his nose in disgust as the man fell into the nearest chair. "Molly's made a pie good enough to die for," he drawled.

"Then do so," returned Snape, "it would be a favor to all of us."

"S'not nice, 'fessor Snape," protested Mundungus. "I didn't do anythin' this time... S'good pie. I'll all be gone if ya don't hurry."

Kingsley sighed. "Dung," he said, "why did you miss the meeting this time?"

"Not sayin' nothin'," protested Fletcher. "Top Secret."

"You mean illegal," snorted Sturgis. "Or personal."

"You're disgusting," snarled Snape. "A disgrace to the Order. You realize that your obligation to this organization is worth more than making a few extra Knut smuggling."

"Heeeey," said Mundungus, noticing Philomena for the first time. "What's yer name, pretty?"

Snape let out a low growl in his throat and shot Mundungus a dangerous glare. Kingsley noticed and rose from his seat, ready to intervene if something happened, not sure at whom Snape's anger was intended.

"Philomena," she answered stiffly, glad that the table was between them.

"I see it, now," said Sturgis. "The bearer of light. Very fitting for a Seer."

"The daughter of light," corrected Kingsley. "It's Greek, not Latin."

Snape coughed. "It means beloved."

Philomena nodded. "Beloved, yes."

"Whatever it means, nickname to that is Fanny, isn't it?" asked Mundungus snidely, waggling his eyebrows.

"Keep that tongue of yours to yourself, Fletcher," shouted Snape, flying across the room and grabbing Mundungus by the collar, "or lose it altogether."

With a snarl that would have made Sirius' Animagus form envious, Snape slammed Fletcher into the wall. "Apologize," he snapped. "This instant."

Shocked, Kingsley vaulted over the table and pulled Snape away from Mundungus. "Good Goblins, Severus!" he shouted, pushing the man into the nearest chair. "What's got into you?"

Mundungus massaged his throat and giving a nervous grin, started to edge from the room. Sturgis quickly rose and pretended he hadn't been sitting next to Philomena, while the girl herself wondered blankly whether Snape's outburst had been affected as part of the plan, or had been genuine.

Making up her mind in a split second, she dashed over to Professor Snape, just as he was restrained by Kingsley to prevent him from breaking away to go after Mundungus.

"I'm warning you, Fletcher," he snarled, struggling against the iron grip of the other man, "if you even think a thing like that again, the Ministry will be the very least of your worries!"

"Stop it," she whispered to Snape fiercely, deliberately loud enough for Kingsley and Sturgis to be able to hear her, yet soft enough for them to believe she did not want to be heard, "you're drawing attention!"

Snape redoubled his efforts to escape Kingsley's grasp, only to find himself shoved deeper into the chair, his wrists pinned by his head to prevent him from drawing his wand. Mundungus abandoned all pretense of sneaking and ran as fast as he could from the room.

Sturgis, who'd been watching in shock finally rose and shut the door after Mundungus, prepared to give Kingsley a hand if necessary. "Are you out of your mind, Snape?" he asked.

"Let me go, Kingsley," snarled Snape. "I'm not going to kill anybody."

Kingsley snorted. "You've a strange way of showing that."

"I shan't stand for him making comments like that to my- my protégée," snarled Snape. "If he so much as lays a finger on her-"

"Stop," begged Philomena, "he didn't do anything."

"He didn't do anything yet," countered Severus, "and he shan't if I have any say."

Kingsley released Snape, but did not let his guard down, prepared should Snape exhibit further rash behavior. "I'm sure Dung didn't mean anything by it," he insisted. "You're overreacting."

"Besides, if anybody has a right to get angry over it, it's the girl herself," Sturgis pointed out. "Or perhaps Lupin."

Snape started, and then quickly composed his face to his usual mask, inwardly quite gleeful over his performance. Not only had he been waiting for a good excuse to fly off the handle at Fletcher for quite some time, but Dung's comment to the girl had truly annoyed him. Seeing Sturgis loose his cool was an added bonus.

Severus rose to his feet, gave Kingsley a glare of intense malevolence, stepped out of his reach.

"I'm sorry," he said, putting a fatherly hand on Philomena's shoulder. "I do believe I've done it again. What did you call it?"

Philomena smiled and shook her head at him fondly, having caught his lead. "Your 'Jealous Daddy' routine," she laughed.

With a sigh, he lead her from the room with an arm about her shoulder, giving a pointed glare at Sturgis on his way out.

For a moment, Sturgis and Kingsley stared gobsmacked after them.

"Well," said Sturgis finally, "that was ... interesting."

"Never thought I'd see the day," said Kinsley, disbelief strong in his voice. "He's jealous!"

"That's revolting," shuddered Sturgis. "He's- he's old enough to be her father."

Kingsley let out a slightly nervous laugh. "Didn't stop you, did it?"

Moody clunked back into the room, his eye twirling about the room before deciding it was safe enough not to hex the occupants.

"Stupid girl," he muttered. "Years of training and hasn't enough sense not to knock the Mugwump onto his behind."

The Auror suddenly stopped, and whirled round, taking in the scene. "What happened?" he growled. "Who had a fight, and why is there a Noise Shield up?"

"Ah..." said Kingsley, removing it quickly, "Molly was quite, shall we say, vociferous earlier and..."

"Yes, yes," agreed Moody. "She's quite the Banshee. Should have guessed. But what happened? You two look like somebody died."

"Somebody will when Lupin finds out Snape's after his daughter," said Sturgis. "I can't believe it. She let him touch her!"

"She can't be Lupin's daughter," snarled Moody, clunking to the table, and sitting down heavily.

Kingsley shrugged. "I wouldn't say that. He was a handsome lad when he was young," he mused. "Had quite a following, though he was quite the shy one and didn't respond to any of the attention, letting Sirius and James draw it in. I'm sure a girl with enough gumption could have been quite persuasive... and left him when she found out his condition, I suppose."

"Nonsense," snorted Alastor, uncorking his hip flask and taking a long swig, "it's illegal for a Werewolf to have a child. The Ministry has a Monitoring System in place - and believe me, they wouldn't have accepted any excuse. He'd be dead now."

Sturgis shuddered. "That's dreadful."

"Necessary," insisted Moody. "Otherwise, what man would actually tell a girl of his Condition? Taking the innocent out of danger."

"There's no proof it's hereditary," objected Kingsley. "And if a man is conscientious and takes precautions, I see no reason to prevent him from - "

Alastor slammed his flask onto the table, his magical eye swiveling to monitor it carefully, as he turned away to see Kingsley and Sturgis with the other. "The Law does need revision," he admitted, "considering the recent discovery of Wolfsbane. Perhaps with proof that they were taking it, perhaps under a Mediwizard's eye yes, it could be. But then, it was necessary. Harsh, yes, but necessary."

"Are you sure the Ministry's System is accurate?" asked Podmore. "I know its others aren't very reliable. For instance Underage Magic Detectors, and of course the Dark Magic Detectors, which I think were disabled some fifty years ago..."

"It's possible, I suppose," allowed Moody. "But I know Lupin and even better I know that a man in love is reckless with his own life but protective in the extreme of the life and happiness of his girl. Lupin knew the Laws, he would have to have given the program they have in place for Werewolves and he would know the penalty is death for the Werewolf parent and the child. He'd never have taken the risk."

"That must have been why he was always so withdrawn," mused Kingsley. "I always wondered. He had several chances, most obvious with Evans. Though I suppose, if he had spoken up to her, most of recent history would be glaringly different."

"Infinite possibilities," sighed Sturgis, "like she said."

"I don't hold much by Divination," growled Moody. "Dumb luck, it was."

"But if she isn't Lupin's daughter," protested Kingsley, "then who is she? Why is she here? Why did Remus lie?"

"You know how Remus is," said Sturgis, "he's probably taken her in. They seemed close enough, probably adoptive. I'm sure the Ministry never thought of that. Crazy policies..."

"As a matter of fact," grumbled Moody. "You're right. There's no clause about adoption by Dark Creatures. Incompetent fools, the lot of them. But you still haven't told me what happened. Who fought, and more importantly, who won? You said something about Snape and the girl?"

Sturgis made a helpless motion with his hands. "All Dung did was make one crack about her name. About how the nickname is 'Fanny.'"

Moody snorted. Kingsley took up the story. "Snape nearly strangled the man. Screamed at him to take it back, to apologize. That if he touched a hair on her head he'd kill him."

"Then," continued Sturgis, "Kingsley pulls him off Dung, and Dung legs it. After a bit of growling Severus finally calms down. The girl just smiles at him, and teases him about his 'jealous' routine."

Kingsley gasped in sudden revelation. "No, no- she called it his 'jealous daddy routine."

Sturgis eyes widened. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Alastor gave a harrumph. "We'll have to watch the three of them," he grumbled. "Find out why Snape's hiding his daughter."

Kingsley frowned. "I wonder... she seems about twenty. That places her birth about Snape's last years in school. Who...?"

"With Snape?" protested Sturgis. "I don't even want to think about it."

"More importantly," added Moody, "why is Lupin abetting the deception? There's something afoot. It's at times like these we must exercise CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

"I would think one should exercise constant vigilance all the time," joked Kingsley.

"It's no joke, Kings," protested Podmore. "This is serious. Why's Snape hiding the girl? Is she in danger, or is he protecting himself? What did he do to make Lupin go along? You know how uptight he is about rule breaking, he'd never hid anything from the Order - oh Merlin, you don't think Snape's withholding Lupin's Wolfsbane..."

"It's a possibility," said Moody grimly. "We'll have to watch carefully. We'll get to the bottom of this. Not a word to a soul- the less people know, the less they can give away. Don't let on you suspect anything. As soon as we know something concrete, we either act ourselves, or get Dumbledore into the mess."

Kingsley nodded. "Right."

Sturgis hesitated. "I'm sure Snape knows what he's doing," he protested. "I'm sure he's just trying to make sure his daughter is safe. He was quite overprotective all night, remember? Wouldn't listen to a word anyone said against her, and then the thing with Dung... Think about it. None of us knew he even had a daughter. He's been hiding it very well all these years, because he knew he'd be in the line of fire. I think he's let something slip, or someone found out and he's decided to hide her in plain sight."

Kingsley nodded slowly. "I'm sure he means for the best," he answered. "He always does. I just want to be sure Remus is in it willingly. The rest is not my business."

Alastor nodded. "Right then," he said. "We wait, and we watch. CONSTANT VIGILANCE"