Philomena

***Poison Plots***

Remus sat alone in his kitchen quietly sipping his morning tea; Philomena was not yet up. He resisted the temptation to slam his forehead into his kitchen table. He had already eaten and it wasn't even six o'clock yet, but Moony was hungry.

"I'll need to let her out," he mumbled to himself, "or I'll go mad. Next moon, lock myself in, the shack again, maybe."

Moony wasn't happy. She was missing something.

Remus groaned and put his head in his hands. It was disconcerting in the extreme to feel Moony's thoughts while in human form, particularly as Moony's thoughts hardly ever took the shape of words, but rather ghostly physical sensations and emotions.

"Wonder what a normal wolf thinks like," he mused. "Is it also always looking for something to rip to shreds?"

Moony was missing something. Moony wanted something.

"What is it?" Remus asked in desperation. "What is it that she wants?"

Moony remembered running long and fast, remembered being happy. Moony wanted it back. She remembered that the forest was dark, and that she had run franticly after something. She wanted it back.

An owl tapped on the window and Remus jumped to let it in. "Thanks," he muttered vaguely, while untying the knot and shaking out the scroll.

Severus' meticulous handwriting leered up at him:

Lupin,

If you expect I care whether I'm invited or not before barging into your home to yell, as you put it, you haven't been paying attention during the last few weeks.

No thanks are necessary. We do have an agreement. What I do, I do not do for you.

Bill Weasley is an idiot, no need to mention that.

As for Albus, I thank you for your pains, but it was quite unnecessary to agonize over such a trivial matter.

You did mention earlier that the Wolf was making itself known to you in your Human form - I have taken the Caldaic Oath after all, and must needs be sure what I pour down your throat actually works and even without that I have some sense of morality, which makes it hard to leave a man in danger of becoming a slavering beast more often than usual.

Regards,
Snape.

Remus sighed, tossing the letter onto the table. "Would it kill him to be nice, just this once?"

Moony was furiously angry and wanted to slash his throat, but he wasn't there anymore. Moony wanted the other one back. The other one that had made her happy. Moony was hungry.

XXX

Severus was sitting at breakfast when a large gray owl swooped towards him, nearly upsetting his goblet. Testily, he righted his drink before it could spill into his lap and glared at the bird.

Surprisingly, it didn't leave him in search of another recipient, but simply hooted impatiently at him and stuck out a leg.

"Got another contact?" asked McGonagall snidely. "I've heard stories; are they all pretty young things?"

"You wouldn't have had to rely upon stories if you had gone to the meeting yourself," returned Severus easily, untying the letter and shooing the owl, which gave an annoyed hoot before it flew off.

Severus discreetly cast a wandless Magic-detection Spell, which showed him nothing more than a mere Anti-smudging Charm and a rather standard Spell to ensure that it could only be read by the intended recipient. With a grimace he snapped the wax and unfolded the missive. His grimace grew into a frown of distaste when a heady perfume assaulted his nose, and developed into a look of fury when he had read it.

"My Dear Master Snape,

My honored husband must have somehow made an enemy of you, which I deeply regret, considering how closely you are forced to work for those we shall not mention in a letter. It pains me greatly to have to inform you that he means to give you a gift, in the German sense of the word. I beg of you to smooth things over between you both before matters take such a drastic turn, and either of you is forced to deprive He Whom We Serve of a follower.

Yours,

Narcissa Malfoy

Gritting his teeth, he folded it carefully and tucked it into a pocket. "Silly woman, thinking she can manipulate me so easily," he thought to himself.

Taking a sip of his tea, he set his face carefully to a casual expression and turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, if I may remind you, you said you'd speak to me on that matter of the Sminkgrass Potion?"

Albus twinkled at him, and nodded. "Do you have enough time after breakfast and before your first class?"

Severus nodded curtly. "I have an hour before I must endure the Ravenclaw NEWT class."

"We'll go to my office, then," said the Headmaster. "Is the brewing going well?"

"Not at all, Headmaster," murmured Severus, "in fact, it's become quite a deadly toxin."

"What's Sminkgrass?" Vector asked Sprout in a harsh whisper.

Sprout gave a helpless shrug.

Snape refrained from grinning at how easily they'd fallen for his ploy. "Oh, and Minerva," he said to her as he passed the butter to Hagrid, "this one's a rather pretty blond, but a bit snooty for my taste."

XXX

Lucius Malfoy's boots clicked smartly on the flagstones of Knockturn alley as he looked for the shop his wife had mentioned. While he hated to follow her advice, he rationalized that she couldn't possibly know whether or not he had. It was not so much a matter of who had told him how, but what he managed to do.

He raised his hand to make sure that the hood of his cloak shadowed his face sufficiently. It simply wouldn't do to have a Malfoy recognized in Knockturn Alley, at least not until he was in the presence of somebody who knew enough not to blab.

Satisfied that he was incognito, he descended the stairs until he reached the door to the out-of-the-way shop, and pushed it open. The hinges screeched, and the bolt gave a rattle as he slammed the door shut after himself.

It appeared to be empty, but that was the norm for shops on Knockturn Alley as opposed to the crowded bustle on Diagon. The place was forbiddingly neat, shelf upon shelf of perfectly arranged glass bottles, the contents of each more stomach churning than the last.

He waited for a moment, idly glancing over labels, before the Owner shuffled in, swathed in his usual heavy robes, his face carefully masked. Lucius turned and lowered his hood to reveal a practiced charming grin, which to his disappointment did not have the usual effect, nor did the man seem to recognize him.

"What canna do for ya?"

Lucius refrained from cringing at the man's accent and allowed himself a slight sneer. "I require the assistance," he said smoothly, "of a Master of the Greatest of Arts."

"Aye, yer wife told ya just what to say, did she?" remarked the Owner snidely. "What does she want?"

"I want," replied Lucius, "a poison delicate enough, tasteless enough, and subtle enough to fool a Master."

"How good a Master?" asked the Owner, not the least bit startled by the request.

"The best," answered Lucius curtly. "He will not be fooled by the common ones, nor the great ones shoddily done. Therefore, I seek the best."

"I see," said the Owner. "An' what proof does tha have?"

"Proof of what?" asked Lucius.

"Well, I'd be a great fool sellin' such a poison to just anyone, wouldna I be?" asked the Owner from behind his heavy mask. "Since if one wants ta do it righ' one destroys all traces, yes? And I'd be handy a trace enough, wouldna I be?"

Lucius sighed. "You may place me under a Fidelity Charm," he said in a bored tone. "If your poison's good enough, there shan't be an investigation to hide from. The law shall not become involved; 'tis a purely private matter."

"Na, na," said the Owner. "Investigations Ah've no fear of. They'll deal ma fair as the law holds - but ya'd kill me like as a fly to make sure I didna tell a soul. And that wouldna do at all, Mr. Malfoy."

"Again," repeated Lucius, "you may place me under any Fidelity Charm you care for."

"That's na good enough," protested the Owner. "Your word as a Wizard- a formal Oath. Bind it and bring it back ta ma, by tomorrow. Ah'll see wha' I can find in the meantime. A Master, ya said?"

"I hardly think a formal Oath is necessary," protested Lucius.

"Ah, but I hardly think I'll be selling ya anythin' without," interrupted the Owner. "Good day."

Lucius was about to retort, but the faceless stare from the Owner's mask unnerved him enough to make him forget what he was about to say.

"Mr. Malfoy," said the Owner softly, dangerously, "unless yer wantin' somethin' else, which Ah highly doubt, ya will leave until ya can give me an Oath."

Trying to act as though he still controlled the situation Lucius have a toss of his head, turned on his heel, and left without a backwards glance. Inwardly, he was seething.

"Damnit all," he grumbled when he was back on the grimy street. "He'd have given it to Severus without batting an eye."

XXX

Severus, finished with breakfast, laid his fork down and gave a careful nod to the Headmaster. Albus caught his eye and turned his head first slightly towards the exit, and then back to Minerva, with whom he was speaking about the last Order meeting. Severus gave another nod and left the table, understanding that the Headmaster would follow as soon as he was able.

Professor Snape left the Great Hall and made his way towards the Headmaster's Office. He had not yet reached halfway to the first staircase when he heard hurried footsteps behind him and a frantic call of, "Professor!"

Potter.

Snape stopped dead and took a deep breath. "I believe your next class is not with me, Potter."

"I wanted to apologize," Harry said, adjusting his spectacles.

Snape turned to face the boy and drew himself up to his most intimidating stance. "You will not mention the matter again."

The boy nodded curtly. "Thank you sir. Shall I see you tonight as arranged, then?"

Snape nodded.

"Good day, sir," said Potter with another of his curt little nods, before he disappeared around the corner.

Severus went on his way, wondering when Potter had started being quite so reserved. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he was practically imprisoned within Hogwarts walls and was trying to keep in everybody's good graces - or it could simply be his way of ensuring that their lessons continued.

Severus quickened his pace, retrieving the letter again from his pocket. First, he negated the privacy charm with a whispered incantation. Then, shaking it open and drawing his wand, he cast Confirmare, causing it to briefly glow pink.

"Paranoid as always, Severus?" came the Headmaster's voice. "Are you that uncertain as to the sender?"

Severus turned and waited for Albus to catch up with him. "Yes, Headmaster, when somebody threatens my life I generally like to be sure I know who they are."

"Your life?" asked Albus, taking the letter.

Albus began to read as they walked side by side until they reached the headmasters office.

"Droobles Best," said Albus cheerily to the gargoyle, which hopped out of the way, revealing the staircase. The two stood as the stairs slowly spiraled upwards, landing with a jolt at the Headmaster's door.

"A gift in the German sense?" asked Albus.

Severus gave a half smile. "The word 'gift' in German means 'poison.'"

"Yes, yes, charming language." Albus opened the door and allowed Severus in first. Severus entered the office and stood behind his usual chair, hands gripping the back of it.

"So, my boy," said Albus, sinking into his own chair, "what has Lucius got against you?"

Severus sighed. "It's complicated," he answered. "I've agreed to help him in a scheme of his, partly because I need his help to sabotage the current Blood Magic problem, and frankly, had I refused there would have been a lot of trouble. He's tried to get me to suspect our third confederate and I do believe he intends to come out of this omnipotent, without either of us to help or hinder him."

Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"On the other hand," continued Severus, "he might not intend to kill me at all. This could be some scheme of Narcissa's. You know Draco comes of age quite soon and I wouldn't put it passed that woman to try to have Lucius eliminated before that happens so that she may inherit. She could be hoping I kill him for her."

Dumbledore nodded again.

"There's a third possibility that she wrote this on Lucius' orders, as a test of my trust. He might want to -"

Severus broke off speaking when a deep sigh interrupted him.

"My boy," said Dumbledore, "whichever possibility it is, I must beg you to be cautious. You know how much-"

"I am needed, yes," interrupted Severus. "I assure that I take my Antidotes regularly, and that when needed I am quite capable of performing a Detection Charm."

"I was going to say, how much easier it would be to use this as a distraction," put in Dumbledore. "They could be hoping you to be so much on your guard against Poison, that you let it down in some other area..."

Severus nodded. "I am aware of that and quite capable of handling the matter myself, sir. I merely wished to inform you of the situation, that in the event of... a mishap, arrangements could be made. I shall inform you when the matter becomes immediate."

Dumbledore said nothing for a moment, eyebrows knit in thought. He wondered again whether Remus was right and that he ought to reassure Severus of his trust in spite of the risk.

"Take care of yourself, Severus," he said finally.

"Good day, Headmaster." Snape turned on his heel and left the office.

"A bit drastic," said Albus idly to Fawkes, "but I have been looking for an excuse to have Severus take better care of himself. I worry about him, you know."

Fawkes trilled and began to preen. Albus watched the bird idly, turning thoughts about in his mind.

"He's not been looking well, lately, there's much he hasn't been telling me," Albus went on. "I'm worried he's taking too much on himself at once - perhaps if I give him more duties here, he won't be able to delve into Voldemort's politics more deeply than absolutely necessary to gain the information we need."

***The Visitor***

After dinner, Severus made his way to his own quarters, planning on doing some more research into Blood Magic before making his way to Remus' cottage to see to the problem mentioned in the letter. However, he had not planned on finding a robed and masked someone leaning against his door.

"Greetings," said the figure. "We need to talk."

Severus inclined his head. "Master of the Greatest of Arts," he said. "It is not your wont to leave your laboratory."

Snape tried not to let his confusion show - the man appeared to have a double Aura, that of the Owner and one Severus believed he ought to recognize but could not place. Knowing that revealing his unusual ability would be less than advantageous, he was careful not to let his suspicion show.

"It is also not my wont to let my friends be poisoned," replied the Owner, his voice impassive. "I'd rather not be seen and I haven't much time."

Severus narrowed his eyes, confused by the absolute lack of the man's otherwise heavy accent. "I find it intriguing you managed to enter the school."

"Access," replied the Owner, "once had, is very hard to lose. Please, I can't discuss this in a hallway."

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Severus began the subtle art of taking down his Wards Wandlessly without being obvious.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Snape said to gain time. "The formula - did it malfunction?"

"On the contrary, it tested perfectly, though I have not yet used it," replied the Owner. "That is not what I've come to speak to you about."

"You mentioned Poison," Severus went on. "Did you object to one of the items I took as payment?"

"Na," replied the Owner. "That I didn't. I do object, however, to the idea of your death. It would put me quite out of sorts."

The Wards down, Severus motioned the Owner aside and made a show of tapping a panel of his door with his wand before entering, then ushering the other man through.

"Sit down," he said, waiving a hand towards a chair. "Poison, you said?"

"Impressive Wandless Magic, my cousin," said the Owner reaching up to undo his mask. "I see you've not lost it."

Severus froze as the man's mask fell to the table, revealing the last face he'd expected to see. "Igor!"

Karkaroff smiled, and spread his hands in a gesture that reminded Severus momentarily of Albus.

"Me," he answered. "I took your advice, hid in plain sight. It worked very well. Who would expect a man going into hiding to pretend to be a man in hiding? It worked, Severus, apparently far better than I'd thought - I was sure the first time you walked into the Shop that I'd been discovered. As it is, I do believe I owe you a great debt."

Severus blinked and slowly sank into his chair. "Why is it that the people whose lives I save are all either Bulgarian or Gryffindors?"

Karkaroff shrugged out of his bulky outer robes and tossed his gloves upon the table. Severus noted vaguely that the ridiculous goatee was gone. "It could have more than a little to do with the fact that you are partially both."

"I am not partially Gryffindor," snapped Snape. "Not in the least."

Igor grinned. "Are you trying to tell me that you are not courageous?"

"If you go by that logic, cousin," said Severus, "I would also be a Ravenclaw and a Vampire."

Karkaroff sighed. "It's a pity you did not attend Durmstrang. I wonder where you'd have placed there. Definitely not with me, I am Grey."

"Small wonder you ended up in a house known for ambivalence," remarked Snape.

"That, my friend, I shall admit to," Igor shrugged. "I debated for quite some time whether I ought to come here, and if so, whether I ought to reveal myself."

Snape nodded. "You've apparently decided."

Karkaroff nodded in turn. "One must, on occasion, trust somebody. I trust you, Severus."

Severus smirked. "That could have a little to do with the fact that I've now saved your life twice, or perhaps the fact that we are blood relatives."

"Yes, that's true," sighed Igor. "However, that's not my reason for trusting you."

"Don't tell me it's because of the Seer blood on your mother's side," scoffed Snape. "You know as well as I do that it's a strictly feminine gift - though it does perhaps explain your interest in my Draught."

"An amazing formula, in truth, and a pity mother didn't live to have use of it," replied Karkaroff. "Please, you make me lose my train of thought... Yes. I have always trusted you, Severus, because you are an honorable man."

Severus blinked. "Honorable?"

Karkaroff nodded. "Perhaps not in a conventional sense, but where it counts, you've always done your best to keep the scales balanced, for good or for ill. You've always given people their due, regardless of how they treated you. And you've a peculiar notion of loyalty, particularly towards family, the little of it we both have left at any rate."

"You mean to tell me that you'll put your life on the line because you believe I've some notion of justice?" Snape smirked.

"There's also the fact that you're fiercely protective of your countrymen."

Severus shook his head. "I've no love for any country," he said.

"Precisely," said Karkaroff, "another reason to trust you - because you don't trust; you have never trusted. You'll never let the propaganda or goals of any government or group hold more sway than your own judgment. And as I've said, your judgment is fair. You've a belief in balance."

Snape sighed. "Balance," he repeated. "Yes, I suppose I do."

Karkaroff grinned. "Which is why I trust you not to reveal my location or identity. After all, you apparently never passed on the last note I gave you revealing my plans to go to Australia. I thought you would, I was hoping it would put them off the trail... I thought you'd think I'd not taken your advice."

Severus shook his head. "I never believed that," he said. "It would be most foolish to give our Lord false information. Though apparently he's not above giving it to us - we've been informed of your untimely demise, though I didn't believe that either. I knew the moment I read that letter you were bluffing. After all, we'd hardly been on good terms that year."

Igor shook his head in amusement. "There you have me, cousin. I was trying my best to prove myself outwardly suspicious of you. I wanted my student to win and I could not be seen on friendly terms with those considered rivals. My students...the Board..."

"Which is just as well," mused Severus, "as Crouch, insane though he was, was probably passing back information on our every step. It is just as well that the Dark Lord doesn't believe I hold anything for you besides contempt, not to mention the fact that it isn't generally known that we are related."

Karkaroff sighed. "I would beg you to join me, Severus, but I know better."

Severus frowned, and let out a deep sigh. "We can't all break away."

"I don't pretend to know your reasons for continuing to serve - " Snape was about to protest, but Igor held up a hand and continued, " - and I don't want to know. Nobody is ever completely safe. I would be a fool if I did not believe myself still in danger from the Dark Lord and his followers. The less I know, the less I can betray. I believe that you do what you think is best and I trust your judgment in such matters."

"Which doesn't explain why you're sitting here," reminded Severus. "I'm sure you came to tell me something more interesting than what you think of me."

"Lucius Malfoy," said Karkaroff shortly, "is going to poison you."

Severus let out a dry laugh. "Two in one day - must be some sort of record."

"Two what?"

"Warnings of my assassination," replied Severus.

"Well, I'm sure your first warning didn't supply you with an Antidote," said Igor, rummaging about in the voluminous outer robe he'd left draped on the back of the chair.

"That it didn't," admitted Severus. "It did, however, come from the doubtful source of his wife."

Karkaroff gave a disgusted groan. "Bendis, that woman is Poison personified!"

Severus nodded. "I'd almost feel sorry for Lucius, but considering the way he's been plotting of late, and the possibility that he's trying to murder me, he almost deserves her."

Karkaroff, having finally found what he'd been searching for, offered Severus a small cut-glass vial. "There. One Antidote to the most slippery, tasteless Poison I have ever brewed. Or rather, the nastiest one I'd dare sell Lucius. It's a personal invention of mine, so you won't have an Antidote in your own stores, though doubtless if I'd published it anywhere, you would have. He was quite insistent that it not be a standard Formula. It's a variation on the Alica Cruoris."

Severus looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "As you said, I do not trust anybody."

Karkaroff shook his head. "I did not think you would. You are quite welcome to test it. However, it is well I had some on hand, as it takes two months of fermentation to activate and I doubt you have that much time."

Severus sighed and held out his hand for the vial, which Karkaroff readily handed over. "Confirmare." The vial glowed pink.

"What's the Potion's base?" asked Snape. "Does it react badly with caffeine or Belladonna? Is it permanent, or will I need to take it often?"

Karkaroff held up a hand to stop the questions. "The base is an Animadvertigum, and it has no physical side effects. Caffeine or Belladonna won't cause any problems, but you will want to avoid Monkswort unless absolutely necessary. It should remain in your system for roughly six months, when it begins to wear off, you will experience severe headaches."

Satisfied, Severus uncorked the vial and downed it without another moment's hesitation. He gave a grimace and handed the vial back. "You always were a flashy Brewer, going for style rather than substance. Honestly, man, must your every Potion taste like raspberries?"

Karkaroff smiled. "High praise from your lips, cousin. The taste is my signature, excepting of course in tasteless Poisons."

"In which case your 'signature' consists of giving the victims Antidotes in advance," said Snape dryly.

"Only for family," replied Igor. "I'll warn you now, though, there will still be some symptoms from the Poison that aren't avoidable, even with the Antidote. I recommend having something to counteract dizziness and nausea at the ready. Lucius' usual method is to poison his enemies in full view of any other enemies he might have, first to make sure he gets the right man, and second to impress his power on the others while outwardly showing the greatest surprise at his victim's demise."

Severus nodded. "I am greatly in your debt, Igor," he said seriously. "Is there anything you would consider in return?"

"Actually, there is," replied Igor. "You remember how happy I was when you told me of the advances you made to Cassandra's Draught? Well, I have a niece - she's a Seer."

Severus looked up in surprise. "A niece? Impossible. You've no siblings."

A shadow passed over Karkaroff's face. "My elder brother was disinherited before I was three. I don't know him very well. But... several years ago I met my niece when he visited. It was just after I'd inherited the estate and he'd come to demand a share. She is an incredible girl, with incredible talents, but, much as it pains me, my brother is not a nice man and I do not approve of his method of treating her Visions."

Severus knitted his eyebrows. "I don't understand," he said. "The research and testing were agonizing, I grant you, but the Draught itself is relatively simple. You are, as you style it, a Master of the Greatest of Arts. You should have no trouble beyond convincing her to drink it."

Igor sighed. "That doesn't help if I can't find the girl. My brother's a squib. Unfortunately he's a slippery criminal and at times I believe his ... condition has caused him mental instability. He's fled Britain. I simply haven't been able to locate either of them."

Severus slowly blinked and stared at his cousin, an impossible suspicion forming in his mind. "Your brother's 'condition' wouldn't just so happen to be lycanthropy, would it?" he asked.

Karkaroff flinched and then nodded shakily. "How...?"

"He wouldn't also," continued Snape, "just so happen to go by the name of Ralf?"

Karkaroff stared at his cousin wide eyed, his jaw beginning to drop.

"And your niece's name is Philomena?" Severus pressed.

"Bendis!" Karkaroff swore. "How in the name of the Horsemen did you know that? The family has always kept it secret -"

Snape spread his fingers in a mockery of Igor's earlier gesture. "She just so happens to be the daughter of a former colleague of mine."

"Ralf?" asked Karkaroff, shocked. "Whenever did you become involved with -"

"Not him, Igor," interrupted Snape. "Her ... other parent."

"Have you seen her?" asked Karkaroff. "Is she well? Where is she staying? Is she being treated well -"

"Igor!" snapped Severus. "Please, one question at a time. Yes, I have seen her. In fact, I've done more than that; I've cured her and reversed that damnable Stasis Magic she was under. She is perfect health at the moment and her father is an honorable man who does his best by her."

"Her father?" asked Ralf in complete confusion. "But you said she wasn't with Ralf..."

Severus groaned. "He's a Werewolf - your brother bit him and he's... Merlin knows I don't want to know the details of their physiology."

Igor slowly nodded. "When I find Ralf I am going to have to hurt him, family or no. I cannot believe he left her with a man he does not know, when he's known for years that I would gladly take her in as my own. It could be worse, though, she could have been left with that thrice condemned Muggle."

Snape lifted an eyebrow. "Gordon?"

Igor gave an exasperated cry. "Is there anything you don't know?"

Snape smirked. "How could I tell if I didn't know something I didn't know I ought to have? I can't very well use a Remembral..."

Severus abruptly snickered as Karkaroff tried to work out what had just been said.

Karkaroff shook his head to clear it, looked at the other man with a raised eyebrow, then said, "I do not merely trust you. I believe I shall have to worship you."

"Do, do," said Snape dismissively, "fall at my feet. There's plenty of room."

Igor looked up sharply at this uncharacteristic joke. "The lightheadedness you're feeling is a temporary effect of the introduction of the Antidote to your system. It won't last more than an hour."

Severus' face took on an expression of horror when he realized what he'd said. "Sweet Merlin, you might have warned me. You said there weren't any side effects."

Karkaroff shrugged. "I said physical side effects. And had you known, you probably wouldn't have taken it. The safety is worth the inconvenience of an hour's high spirits."

Severus ran a hand through his hair. "Damn you, Igor," he sighed. "I hate it when you're right. We won't discuss it."

"Tell me where she is located," begged Igor. "Please. I haven't seen her in some time, and I've been worried."

"As a matter of fact," said Snape, rising, "I intended to go see him on a completely unrelated matter this evening. Have you time to accompany me?"

Karkaroff shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't," he replied. "And dropping in like this would be most impolite. I ought at the very least send a letter ahead to tell him we're ... related."

"As long as you've Philomena's affection he shan't stand in your way of seeing you," replied Snape. "He's quite the doting parent. Come to think of it, I'm... I'm related to him!"

Karkaroff blinked. "How?"

"You're his brother in law, so to speak, and I'm your cousin... Dear sweet Circe, that's revolting! I've been pretending to be related with that girl all this time, and I actually am."

"Beg pardon?" asked Karkaroff, clearly quite confused. "Pretending? What? I don't understand."

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh never mind," he said. "It's not my place to explain, really."

Snape rose and fetched his Cloak, fastening it at his throat with Lupin's clasp.

"An interesting clasp," said Igor, rising and joining his cousin to get a better look. "An extremely powerful Spell. What is it?"

Severus smiled enigmatically. "Something to make my little cousin ask - damnit! I can't talk to him in this condition, he'll think me mad."

Karkaroff shrugged. "Or simply happy."

Severus looked outraged. "Happy? Me?"

Karkaroff didn't look in the slightest perturbed. "If you're so worried about it, you could always stay within your quarters until it passes."

"I don't have time for that," groused Snape. "Merlin's beard! If you'd told me it would make me this giddy..."

"You said we wouldn't discuss it," said Karkaroff mildly. "Besides, I have other business to get to. I really must go."

"Can I Owl your shop?" asked Snape. "I shall talk with Philomena and see what she and her father think."

"You Owl my shop often enough for ingredients," replied Karkaroff easily. "I don't believe anybody would question it. In fact, it would look stranger if you didn't write."

"I still cannot fathom why I didn't recognize you," complained Snape, sounding almost peevish. "Your Aura, or at the very least your voice..."

"Vell," said Karkaroff lightly, as they left the room, "iv von haz an aczent, zen ze people, zey get distracted, no? An' a bit' o' alteration on tha' Aura, tha's easy enough with a Glamour, an' there's not many as can sense them is there, Snape?"

Severus shook his head in amusement as he reset his Wards. The two made their way out of the Castle, ignoring a very startled student they passed on their way to the main Gates. Once they were fully outside the grounds, they Apparated their separate ways with a crack.

***The Giddy and the Growling***

Severus arrived at the edge of Remus' wards. Staggering slightly he lifted a hand to his head and massaged a temple. Slowly, he began the stumble towards the cottage. The wind was harsh and bit into his face, sharp and cold.

Staggering, he reached the door and rapped on it. He swayed on his feet, clutching the doorframe as another wave of dizziness hit.

Philomena opened the door and Snape grinned at her. "Good evening Ms. Moony," he said heartily, clasping a hand to her shoulder and leading her back into the warmth of the house. "My, but you look ravishing tonight!"

She stared at him, her eyes wide and seemed about to say something, but Lupin abruptly flew from the other side of the kitchen and wrenched Snape away from her, slamming him at wall.

Snape got unsteadily to his feet. "Have you been drinking, Lupin?" he drawled. "Because it seems you just mistook me for Fletcher."

Remus came back to himself, furiously berating Moony for reacting that way. "I'm sorry, Severus. Please sit down."

"It's quite all right," Severus dismissed, fwumping into a chair. "No need to apologize."

Moony recognized a concession when she saw one and, considering the battle won, subsided.

"What's gotten into the pair of you?" asked Philomena.

Remus looked pained. "Would you please leave us alone for fifteen minutes? I'll explain, I promise, but it is extremely hard to keep my head with both of you in the same room."

Philomena looked warily to Snape, who merely smiled and waved her off. Confused, but recognizing that she could not help, she nodded and left.

Severus turned and stared at Remus. "Lupin, listen," he said. "I'm currently a bit out of sorts due to a Potion that hasn't quite settled itself yet. Don't let your little Gryffindor heart upset itself."

"Severus," said Remus, "I'm glad you came so soon. I need your help. I am slowly losing my mind."

Severus sobered, as much as he could. It was as though his mind has split on some level; on side of him swept up in a wave of unfamiliar exuberance, while the other looked on in horror, unable to intervene. "You mentioned a problem with the Wolf and trouble sleeping."

Remus nodded. "Remember, Sunday, I told you I had begun to sense Moony while in Human form?"

Severus nodded. "You said it was negligible at the time. Amazing how some things progress." Snape inexplicably gave a little chuckle. "Like fungus. Or the flue."

Remus looked sharply at his companion. It wasn't as if the man never laughed, but to make a joke at something so trivial was beneath his usual dignity. "Are you all right?"

Severus laughed. "Just charming. Go on."

Slowly Remus nodded, mentally preparing to Floo for Albus or St. Mungo's if needed.

"The Wolf and I are completely separate entities, as I've told you," Remus began. "In my body, my mind is in control. When I transform, my mind does as well, and Moony thinks and does what she wills. With the Wolfsbane, my mind remains the same on the metaphysical level.

"However, several months ago, I began to experience a certain struggle during the transformation, as she tried to break the bonds of the Potion. I didn't think much of it at the time, attributing it simply to becoming accustomed to the substance and it becoming less effective as a result.

"But it got worse. Moony took over, lashing out at everything and anything, like she did before. It wasn't an extreme problem, as I've always kept myself far from anybody during the Change and, while not in control, my mind remained present and I could fight to the fore and calm her.

"Last Moon she took nearly total control. At times I was pushed out altogether and cannot remember what took place. I do believe her mind, being repressed, becomes all the fiercer whenever it can get loose.

"Lately, starting about a month ago, I have felt her presence in my mind. I said nothing, as it was merely the introduction of some vague thoughts of hers into my consciousness and I was able to repress her quite easily. But now - she has occasionally broken through whatever power I have and taken control of me, in a ghastly reversal of the usual Change.

"It's never lasted more than half a minute but the thought that it could get worse, that she could harm somebody while I can do nothing... It terrifies me. Just now, she threw you across the room and Merlin knows I'm sorry for not being able to stop her, but she was so angry ..."

Remus fell silent.

Severus had leant back in his chair, his steepled fingers tapping idly at his chin. "It does appear that repressing her completely has negative effects," he mused. "One solution would be to let her loose each Moon, though that would be a last resort, considering the damage and pain that could cause. It would give her no reason to fight for control outside of the Moon."

Remus shook his head. "My sanity is very close to all I have left of humanity, Severus," he said. "If it means going back to Changing behind triple bolted doors and tearing myself to bits every month, then yes, I'm willing to go that far."

Severus tsked lightly. "Now, now, Remus. You mustn't get overly suicidal. I did say that was a last resort. Why is it that nobody listens to what I say beyond what they don't want to hear?"

For a split second his face was formed in a peevish pout that made him look so much like a hawk, that Remus had to stifle a laugh, before it cleared and formed a wry smile once again.

"There are other, less painful possibilities," continued Severus. "Tell me what it's like when she is in your mind. Describe it as best you can."

Remus frowned. "At first... I feel like I do when I'm dreaming. Knowing somehow that something isn't right but at the same time caught up in the reality presented to me. Then it develops into panic when I realize that she has insinuated some terrible thought or desire into my brain that I had no control over and then... it goes blank until she leaves and I'm left with only a very vague idea of what happened while she was in control."

Severus ran a hand through his hair. "Interesting, sounds like Legilimency coupled with the Imperious Curse. Though, Merlin knows, nobody would want to try those two at once! Who would want to experience the same suffering they were inflicting? I'd like to see the Dark Lord try that."

Remus sucked in a lip, shooting a concerned glance at his friend. Snape had never made something remotely resembling a joke about Voldemort or the war. He noted that Severus' pupils were quite dilated and that he was as flushed as his complexion would allow. "Are you sure you're all right? You might want to lie down."

Severus waved a careless hand. "It will pass; an hour, he said,"

"Who said?" asked Remus. "What in the name of Diana have you taken?"

"Antidote," said Severus. "Because if I hadn't I'd probably not make the next Order meeting. Damnit, I thought I'd at least make the end of November before somebody tried to kill me again."

Severus lapsed into silence, his eyes narrowed and his head bowed. Remus, recognizing that the man was not only deep in thought, but also struggling as best he could under the effects of whatever Potion he had taken, remained silent and waited.

At last Severus lifted his head and looked Remus in the eye. "Occlumency."

Remus started. "Beg pardon?"

"Defensive Magic of the Mind," Severus said. "If it can keep the Dark Lord out, it ought to make short work through a Shewolf."

Remus nodded. "I know you're a Master at it," he replied, "but I've never even looked at the theory."

"Silly Werewolf," chided Severus, "it's Defense. You ought to know your chosen field completely. They say specialists know more and more about less and less until they know everything about nothing at all. Although that's a ridiculous saying, since the Metaphysics of Absolute Zero is rather fascinating."

Remus blinked. "Are you willing to teach me?" he asked. "Or at least recommend a course of study?"

"As a matter of fact," replied Severus, "I have enough on my plate as it is without teaching you how to keep your head intact. I've got Potter to teach, my job to do, plots to disrupt, the Dark Lord to fool, and Dumbledore to please. I'm swamped."

As Remus' face fell, he was quick to add, "The world still has a few days left before it goes to pieces. I've got a book for you. Merlin knows I'll never get round to reading it, and there are only so many illegal items one can carry around without getting absurdly paranoid."

Snape reached into the pocket of his cloak, which Remus belatedly realized he had never offered to hang, and pulled out a rather large book, which he slammed onto the table. "A Legilimency text, of high illegality. Has been owned by several notable figures, including Winston Churchill, although it was transfigured into a tie at the time."

Curious, Remus opened the book and began to flip through it.

"The appendix is the only part devoted to Occlumency and defensive techniques," remarked Snape, "but you shall have to read the rest to understand it fully."

Remus read a few paragraphs of the introduction silently. "It does sound very much like our battles for control. It's worth a try."

"As the French say," said Snape, "everything's worth trying, at least once. Though I don't agree with them in the slightest as there are certain things I'd simply rather not consider."

Remus gave a wry smile and shook his head. "I thank you very much, Severus," he said. "I'll return the book as soon as I can."

Severus nodded. "It isn't as if I actually had time to read it, much as I should like to. I've had to rely on the legal until a - somebody was able to procure this for me."

Remus nodded. "I'll take care of it. Thank you very much for your help. I couldn't trust a Mediwizard or Magipsyche with the problem, either would have me up before the Control of Magical Creatures Office in no time at all."

Snape smiled. "Simply delighted to spared you from their clutches," he drawled. "Merlin knows I'd hate to lose you - whom would I steel chocolate from without you?"

Remus shook his head. "Whatever you've taken has clearly fogged your mind slightly."

"Not really," replied Severus lightly. "It's still there, it simply isn't working properly. I shall hate myself in the morning."

"You'll kindly remember that I gave you several opportunities to go lie down till it passed, I hope," returned Remus.

"There's something I should like to ... propose to you," said Severus. "I have recently come into contact with a man. Ralf's brother."

Lupin grimaced. "I didn't know he had one."

Snape nodded. "He does. I have known the man since I was two and, though he is at times less than decisive, he is a good man. He's from a very old, wealthy, Bulgarian family. He has taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, and was Headmaster of a very prestigious Academy."

Remus looked guarded. "What are you getting at?"

Severus took a deep breath. "He neither knows Ralf well, nor cares deeply for him. In fact, he's of the opinion that Ralf is not only a criminal but deranged. He has, however, met Philomena and has grown very fond of her. He's been looking for them, trying his best to convince Ralf to name him guardian so that he could reverse the damage and take her in. He is childless himself."

Snape stopped abruptly as he realized that Remus was facing him with the coldest expression he'd ever seen the man wear. "Are you trying to convince me to give her up?"

"Not at all," soothed Severus. "He is worried about her and merely wants to be sure that she is in good hands. If possible, I do believe he would like to help in some way but, as she's near her majority, I doubt it will be an issue."

Remus' eyes remained cold and Severus suspected that Moony was doing a fair bit of his thinking for him. "Who is he? How do you know him?"

Severus shook his head. "A cousin," he replied, as guardedly as he could under the circumstances. "He said he'd write a letter. I'll relay it to you should he not send it directly."

"I'll think about it," Remus said.

"You'll tell her about it, I hope," said Severus. "I understand they got along quite well."

Remus nodded. "We'll discuss it, yes."

Severus rose. "I must be getting back. If I might use your Floo?"

Remus gave permission with a wave of his hand. "Good night, Severus. And I'm sorry again for reacting as I did."

"Good night, Lupin."

Severus left in a blaze of green flame.

***Dancing in the Dungeons***

Severus arrived in his own fireplace and hopped lightly onto the hearth. He checked his clock and stifled a sigh. It read, "Time to Lighten Up and Behave Like a Loon."

He glared at the clock and snapped, "Tell me the time, you insufferable contraption."

The dial swiveled around, while the letters rearranged themselves, finally swinging back into place. The letters spelled out, "What would Mordred say?"

"He'd probably point and laugh, come to think of it," said Snape. "But that doesn't tell me the time. You're breaking the rules."

The dial swung about again and Snape wondered, not for the first time, why the clock had one at all; there was only one field it ever pointed to. The dial would swing once around the face of the clock while the letters rearranged themselves, stopping dead when they spelled out the proper time - or, as was more often the case - some snide comment.

He thought it must have been Mordred's sense of humor that had come to the fore. He knew that Severus would never discard a gift from him, so he made sure to give the most insufferable items possible.

Finally, the clock said, "Dead straight, he would. He'd also regret giving me to someone like you."

"The time," demanded Snape. "I need to know the time."

The clock whirred again, and spelled out, "Dance, and I'll tell you."

Snape's usual response to this demand of the clock's was to storm off and find the time elsewhere. However, his mind being in the fogged state it was, he was rather open to suggestion.

"If that's the only way to get you to work," he said, "I'll just have to, won't I?"

Raising his hands above his head, Snape began to snap rhythmically. "I have to keep this job," he said, beginning to stamp in syncopation. "I have to spy. Have to keep Potter alive."

The clock's dial span to, "If you can read this, Severus, you've finally gone batty."

Snape didn't notice; he was engaged in something that could actually be called a dance, consisting of rapid spinning, stomping and clapping, as his robes billowed about him.

The thoughts swirling through his head became increasingly chaotic. Part of him was disgusted and trying to will himself to behave in a sensible manner, while another part was actually enjoying himself, letting out his pent up frustration. He spared a fleeting thought to be grateful that this sort of thing hadn't happened while in Lupin's company.

Finally, even his rational side gave way to the euphoria. He began to sing the age-old rhyme he'd recited even before being a student at Hogwarts; the one to remember tricky Potions ingredients:

"There's arnica, and asphodel, and bladderwrack and shrivelfig, And belladonna, wolfsbane (that's aconite), and billywig, And hellebore, and sneezewort, and aconite is monkshood, And bungleweed, knotgrass, bupleurum, and wormwood,

Lacewing flies, leech juice, ashwinder eggs, and gillyweed, And dragon horn, aconite, alyhotsy and fluxweed, And dittany and scurvy grass and lovage and bilberry, And if you're evil then you use the blood of your worst enemy!"

Snape was lost, purely and completely, in the rhythm. He did not notice the first warning crackle of the Wards, nor the turn of the door handle, or the creek as the door was slowly pushed open. He did, however, notice the cry of absolute astonishment, as well as the alarm bell from his Wards.

Potter.

Harry Potter stood in his doorway. Harry Potter with his mouth hanging open. Harry Potter seeing him in such an undignified position.

Snape stood for a second that seemed interminable, frozen in position, hands above his head, breathing hard.

Potter didn't move, shocked into speechless amazement.

Finally the haze in Snape's mind broke and with a shattering clarity his mind returned to normal. Abruptly he crossed to the door, yanked Potter all the way into the room, disabling the Wards that had been about to fry the Boy Wonder to a crisp, and slammed the door.

For a moment neither said anything. Snape glared and Potter stared back in disbelief.

Finally Severus spoke. "Mr. Potter, you have an extremely irking knack for entering my chambers at inopportune moments."

Harry found his voice to say the only thing possible at the moment. "I'm sorry, Sir."

Snape continued to glare at him.

"I'm really sorry," Harry babbled on. "It's just that you were late for our lesson and I'd thought you'd forgotten and I'd already looked at your lab but you weren't there and I..."

Severus took a deep breath and let it out in a slow hiss. "If I hadn't realized your presence, my Wards might well have killed you first and asked questions afterwards. You ought to have retreated the moment you touched the door handle and it stung you."

Harry gulped. He had felt a horrible sting, like an electric shock, the moment he'd touched the door, but had been so intent on entering that he'd ignored it. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Mr. Potter," grated Snape, "'I'm sorry,' is a useless phrase, invented by those too cowardly to face guilt, in order to create the illusion of having negated the past. I do not tolerate apologies, nor do I wish them.

"Merlin Entombed, Boy! You should know better than to enter any door without at least checking it for Hexes first, or to think that the first Defense you encounter is all that stands between you and entry!

"When you find it easy to enter, you ought to wonder why and expect further attack! No Wizard worth his salt will erect a solid wall of Wards - they are obvious and easy to dismantle - but a collection of individual, specially triggered Wards is nearly impossible to breach!"

Harry blinked. Whatever Snape it was that had been dancing a moment ago was gone without a trace. He had apparently taken the man that had been decent enough to teach Harry along with him and left behind the fractious Professor who intimidated him in Potions class.

Severus turned abruptly to glare at his clock. It remained at "If you can read this, Severus, you've finally gone batty." Harry followed his gaze and sucked in a breath.

"Er..." he stammered, "I'll just... we can meet tomorrow... if you're not... feeling well..."

"Myrdin condemn it all!" shouted Snape. "Sit down and stop blathering!"

Potter hurriedly seated himself in the nearest chair and dropped his book bag beside him with a thunk. The clock whirred, finally coming to rest at, "Time to Explain."

"I doubt if I have to tell you what will happen if you mention this," snarled Snape. "I am tempted to cast an Obliviate, but it would reverse all the progress we've made in the Mental Arts thus far."

Abruptly, Severus stopped talking as his head snapped backwards. His vision swirled, going green. He swayed on his feet and his ears rang. Everything went black; he crumpled to the floor.

"Professor!" Harry ran over and turned the man face up. He racked his brains to think of what exactly one was supposed to do when a person fainted.

He shook the Professor slightly but received no response. Completely at a loss as to what to do, Harry decided that facing the wrath of Snape if he brought Madam Pomfrey when she wasn't needed was worth the risk to avoid the wrath of Madam Pomfrey if he didn't call her and Professor Snape was seriously hurt.

Harry scrambled to the door and tried to open it, receiving the same warning burn as he had felt entering. Apparently, there was a Ward to prevent unauthorized exit as well as entry.

He tried to open the door regardless and found himself flung halfway across the room. He lay on the floor, panting. "Damned if I do," he muttered to himself, "and damned if I don't."

What was it that people did when somebody fainted in a film, he wondered. Got them to bed and loosened tight clothing, or was it slapped their wrists and waved burnt feathers...

Worriedly he looked the Professor over. He seemed to be struggling for breath so Harry unbuttoned his collar and loosened it. Snape's head lolled to the side and Harry's eyes widened as he caught sight of a large scar on the back of Snape's neck. An ugly x was centered over his spine.

Unable to stop himself, Harry traced the mark with a finger, wondering what could have caused it. He remembered being in the hut by the sea and Hagrid's booming voice shaking the rafters as he said, "Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh."

Harry knew very few Wizards with scars - Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin were exceptions. He also knew that scars from physical accidents were completely removable, while those caused by Curses were temperamental and either very difficult or impossible to remove.

Unbidden, another memory took hold of him. He was staring into Snape's Pensieve and watched as Sirius and James taunted Snape. Snape was flipped upside down, his robes falling over his head...

Something he had not realized before suddenly seemed important - Snape's first instinct had not been to right his robes or force himself upright, but to clap a hand over the back of his neck as his hair fell away from it.

"That's why he wears such high collars now," Harry mused. "He was Cursed, something so bad that he can't let anybody know..."

Another thought flitted through his head, the absolute anger in Snape's eyes when he'd found Harry looking in the Pensieve. They had glittered in fury, true, but his face had not shown hatred until he began to shout about Harry's father. Before that, his reaction had been horror, and fear - the terror of being exposed. He had reacted much the same way when Harry had mentioned that Snape used Wandless Magic.

Suddenly, it all made sense. It would be foolish to believe that Snape would be so sensitive about a schoolboy brawl that he would hide it in his Pensieve when he hadn't removed other, presumably more damaging, memories of his childhood.

It hadn't made sense for Snape, who was a logically minded and practical man, one who kept his thoughts carefully to himself, to let embarrassment or anger rise to such an extent that he physically shook a student. However, had he thought Harry knew he'd been Cursed with something drastic enough to modify his humanity to allow for him to use Wandless Magic...

Wand.

Harry felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. A simple spell, one he'd known for years, would have solved the problem. Ennervate! Wizards simply didn't mess about with burnt feathers.

With a renewed sense of purpose he decided he had better pretend he had discovered nothing and quickly restored the Professor's collar to its original state. Walking in on Snape dancing alone was enough to strain relations such as they were, without him having found out such a closely guarded secret.

As soon as the last tiny button was in place, Harry pulled out his wand and swished it in the upward twist he'd been taught. "Ennervate!"

The effect was instantaneous. Snape's eyes snapped open. Realizing the situation, he rocketed to his feet.

The furious look on his face had Harry scrambling to his feet to back away.

"Thrice damned idiot!" shouted Snape.

Harry winced. "I'm sorry sir, but you fainted, and the Wards..." He trailed off as he realized his Professor wasn't listening.

"'No physical side effects,' indeed," ranted Severus. "This is the last time I trust anything he brews! I am going to kill him. The giddiness I could tolerate, but, damnit, I shan't accept fainting in front of the Boy who Lived!"

"That explains it," thought Harry. "Some potion didn't agree with him. Probably some experimental brew or other." He watched, bewildered, as the Professor took out a sheaf or parchment and began hastily scribbling a note. "Are you all right, sir?"

Snape stopped abruptly and looked intently at him, a peculiar calculating expression on his face. "You say time and time again that you are nothing like your father."

Harry shut his eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again. "Yes, sir."

"Then prove it," said Snape softly. "We will continue the lesson as planned. You will not mention this incident. You will not speak of it; you will not even allow yourself to think of it. Go back to my classroom and I shall be there in ten minutes. You will not question me."

The boy did not argue with him, but let out a sigh of relief and nodded curtly. "Yes, sir."

Snape jerked his head towards the door. "Leave."

Harry grabbed his book bag and turned to go. Halfway to the door, he stopped with a grimace. "The Wards, sir," he reminded.

With a flick of his wrist Snape sent a wall of purple energy towards the door, before nodding. Harry gingerly touched the door handle. It did not give him a warning jolt, so he returned his Professor's nod. He left, enormously grateful to whatever providence it was that had allowed Snape not to be angry enough to break off the lessons.

***A Discussion, A Note, and a Surprise***

The fire crackled as Snape left and Remus ran his hands through his hair, clutching at it in frustration. "Down girl," he mentally commanded his Wolf, who subsided, now that the threat had passed.

"Damnit," Remus muttered, rubbing his face. "I hope the man's all right..."

He stared at the book lying in his lap. The faded golden lettering stamped into its black dragon hide cover read: Concerning the Perils and Pleasures of Legilimency: by Degan R. E. Gemad.

Trust Snape to have an illegal book in his pocket, ready for any emergency. Briefly, he wondered just what else Snape might have in his pockets, but dismissed the thought as quickly as it had come. There was more to Snape than what his pockets contained, after all.

The man was obviously in a bad position; he had admitted to being under threat of Poison and whatever he had taken to counteract the possibility had not left him in a good state.

Remus considered going after him, but knew that his arrival at Hogwarts would merely draw more attention to the man's condition, compromise Order security, not to mention annoy Snape to no end.

"I hope to Circe nobody sees him like that," he muttered, slamming the book onto the table and getting up. "He's the last man we can afford to lose. I certainly couldn't."

Instantly, he regretted such a selfish train of thought. Severus had gone quite out of his way to help, had risked being seen in a giddy stupor that would have destroyed his reputation. He was, Remus thought soberly, risking quite a lot - and for what?

With a gnawing sense of unease, Remus wondered for the thousandth time for what purpose Snape had demanded his Oath. He was afraid that when payment was demanded it wouldn't be something he would enjoy giving.

With a sigh, Remus rose to his feet and steeled himself for a difficult conversation. He climbed the ladder and rapped on Philomena's trap door.

A bit of muffled shuffling later, the door was swung open, allowing Remus to pull himself up, and knock it back into place.

For a moment father and daughter stood facing each other silently. She watched him with an odd look of expectation on her face, apparently realizing that he was looking for the right words, and gave him time.

Finally Remus blurted, "I'm sorry."

Philomena smiled lightly. "You've no need to be."

Trying to break the tension she hopped onto the bed, causing it to squeak and settled herself. Waiving a hand towards the rocking chair she said, "Was it the Moon?"

Shakily, Remus nodded, seating himself and beginning to rock gently, his eyes closed. "Yes," he admitted. "The Wolf seems to be breaking free from the bonds of the Potion."

She nodded. "I could see it in your eyes. - Not that they looked any different physically, but I could tell it wasn't you behind them."

"She's been getting loose occasionally," Remus admitted. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your -"

"Yes it is my fault," Remus countered. "It is my disease; it is up to me to control the effects it has on myself and others. I asked Severus for help because my control is slipping and losing it could kill, or even worse."

She shook her head slightly, obviously not agreeing with him, but not wanting to argue.

"The Wolf takes over when She feels threatened," Remus explained. "I want you to understand, however, that no matter what happens you are safe with me. She loves you as much as I do, and She will do everything to protect you, as will I. If... if something should happen, if I should lose control, promise me not to lose your head."

She took a deep breath. "I do not know if I can, but for what it is worth, I promise to try."

Remus sighed. "Severus gave me a book," he said, "and I hope that with its help I can alleviate the problem."

"Is he all right?" Philomena asked uncomfortably, casting about for a safer topic.

"I hope so," said Remus worriedly. "He'd rather die than ask for help, you know, but of all of us, we need him the most. The man does so much, takes so many risks and none of the others seem to care or realize. They treat him abominably."

"They treat you abominably," she pointed out. "That Vance woman..."

"'That Vance woman'," replied Remus, "is decent, really. She is a Pure Blood, the only child of a family of high standing. She was brought up with certain things expected of her and she lived up to those expectations. She married after the wishes of her family but, unlike the majority of Purebloods, she made her husband happy and became happy herself. He was killed in the first War. She sees it as her duty to avenge him.

"She realizes that Voldemort is a madman, that his ways are evil, his ideas fanatical, but she also thinks the way she has always thought. She is a proud woman, still holds her prejudice without even realizing it. We aren't all perfect."

There was a silence. Remus took a deep breath and shook his head. "But that wasn't what I wanted to talk about," he said. "We haven't... discussed much and something Snape said reminded me of just how little I've been seeing to what you need."

Philomena smiled wryly. "You've seen to me more than anybody else has," she pointed out. "You've cured me, given me freedom. I can't complain."

"You are eighteen," Remus said. "Of age in the Muggle World, but not in ours for another four years. You must have realized now that I can't provide much for you... I want you to have every opportunity and I am not your best prospect."

Philomena sat up quickly. "Are you saying you want me to go?" she asked. "I understand... I know you must be used to living alone and that you haven't a lot. I don't want to be a burden. I could help, though - I was educated in the Muggle world and can find employment with little trouble -"

"No!" cried Remus in distress. "You've misunderstood. It's true that I was alone for a long time and living with another person has been disconcerting at times, but you've given me a reason to enjoy life again. You've given me a purpose. I simply wanted you to know that, while you are always welcome in my heart and my home, that you should not be afraid to ask for more than I can offer."

Philomena blinked. "I don't understand."

Remus rubbed his temples. "You should have so much more," he said. "Starting with education. I could get you into a good Magical University, with contacts I have. I intended to discuss enrolling you when you were ready if you wished...

"However, Severus informs me that you've an uncle who's his cousin through some bizarre twist of fate -"

"Uncle Igor!" she cried. "I knew it wasn't a coincidence Snape looked so familiar! I've wanted to contact him, but International Owls are so hard to arrange and the only time I managed it, the letter came back marked Undeliverable..."

She trailed off, offering a small smile as apology for interrupting, then gestured for him to continue.

It took a moment for Remus to collect his thoughts and steel himself to go on. Moony was protesting, but he pushed her ruthlessly aside.

"Snape said that the man was willing to take you in," he said quietly. "He indicated the man was fairly wealthy and that you two got along."

Philomena didn't answer, Remus tried not to meet her eye. He knew he couldn't offer her much, and while he hoped she would choose to stay with him, he couldn't find it in himself to keep her from a better life. Was there really any reason for her to want to stay?

"While I love you and I don't want you to leave," he went on clumsily, "I still want you to know that ... I won't stand between you and an opportunity like this... If that is what you want."

His daughter slumped back onto her pillows, at a loss for words.

"It's not an immediate issue," soothed Remus. "And I'm not sure what your Uncle is offering precisely. Severus said the man would owl. Igor, you said?"

She nodded. "We were there for only a few weeks - there was some argument over an inheritance and Ralf didn't want to leave me behind in England. Uncle Igor... he was the first one that realized that I wasn't what I was pretending to be. The only one who offered to help, though he couldn't, because Ralf noticed and hid me away from him."

"I know it's useless to say now, Philomena," Remus said, "but if I'd known, nothing in the world could have stopped me from taking you from Ralf."

"I know," she said simply. "And it wasn't your fault. Please, let's not talk about Ralf, or any of it. I don't want to think about that."

Remus nodded. "It will be all right, my Heart," he said. "We can decide things later."

XXX

As soon as Harry was safely out of the way, Snape gave a growl and turned back to the piece of parchment he'd been writing on. When his vision began to blur again, he sank into a chair putting his head in his hands. Gradually it cleared once more. He quickly grabbed the parchment to finish scribbling the note:

Master of the Greatest of Arts,

Your potion seems to have side effects you know not of. The subject, upon coming out of the euphoric haze, has begun to experience fainting spells, and palpitations. Kindly send original formula post haste that I might find something to counter this effect. The subject is in great distress and cannot afford to be laid low at this time.

Professor Snape.

He folded it once, twice, and sealed it with a daub of Selsna's Self-Melting Sealing Wax, in his haste neglecting his usual privacy charm.

He then rose and fought another wave of dizziness before heading off towards the Owlery.

XXX

In his shop, Igor read Snape's note, blanched, and swore violently in Bulgarian.

"What's the matter?" inquired Malfoy, arching an eyebrow.

"Och," replied Karkaroff with forced carelessness, letting the note flutter to his worktable, "a colleague o' mine, havin' a bit o' trouble."

Lucius surreptitiously read the note upside-down from the corner of his eye. "Snape," he thought, "excellent." Aloud, he asked, "You work with him often?"

Igor waved a careless hand. "Na, na," he said. "He's a might bit o' a flashy brewer. Lot's o' style, not much substance. If ya know what Ah mean."

Malfoy smirked maliciously. If there was something he enjoyed immensely, it was watching friends destroy each other unknowingly.

"How long must this slime burble before I can have it?" he asked.

"Patience, Mr. Malfoy," chided Karkaroff, grabbing several small vials from the shelves. "Tha' 'slime' is art. The Greatest of Arts, and naught else'll poison a Master."

Lucius twitched impatiently. "I want it soon. I require it soon."

Karkaroff turned and stared at him, well aware of the eerie effect this produced as his eyes shone through his mask. "Tha'll have it on time," he said, his voice carefully quiet, "when 'tis ready, or tha'll not have it at all."

Lucius took an involuntary step back. "You've already my bonded Wizard's Oath I'll not harm you," he snapped. "What more do you want?"

Karkaroff continued to stare at Malfoy, eyes glittering with malice. "Ah want nothin', Mr. Malfoy," he hissed. "Tha wants poison, and if tha wants to have 't, tha must abide by ma rules."

Malfoy grimaced in distaste. "You're not the only Potions Master on earth," he said. "I'm paying you well enough."

Igor smirked behind his mask, quickly packing the vials he'd collected into his black leather carrying case. "Aye," he agreed, turning back to face Lucius, "but Ah be the only one wha' will help the likes of ye."

With that, he Disapparated with a crack.

Lucius cursed loudly in French. "How the devil did he get round the Disapparition Wards? There's no way to make them selective..."

He carefully hid his face with his hood before leaving the shop and entering the shadows of Knockturn Alley. Behind him the shop automatically shut and locked itself with a clang, as Malfoy lost himself in the crowd.

XXX

Harry Potter checked his watch. "'Ten minutes,' he says," he grumbled to himself. "It's been half an hour."

With a sigh, he went back to practicing. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breath in.

"Occlumence," he chanted mentally. "Noli sententiam cogitationemque a me rapere."

Grimacing, he tried not to shy away from the Magic invading his brain. He had to trust the Magic, had to work hard not to instinctively push it back out of his consciousness. If Snape was going to be late, he might as well practice before a direct confrontation.

Ever so carefully he made sure his defenses were still in place, reweaving those parts that had frayed. As he went along the process sped up slightly. He let himself be guided by the magic, stowing memories and thoughts beneath his defenses and allowing a precious few to remain available to misdirect an attacker.

"Noli sententiam cogitationemque a me rapere."

XXX

Igor stumbled into the back door of Florean Fortesque's. He quickly sloughed off his robe and mask, stuffing them into a nearby cupboard. Turning he tripped over something in the semidarkness.

"Florean!" he called softly.

A bump and a muffled curse sounded from upstairs. Igor winced. "Bendis," he muttered, casting an eye about for some source of light. "How do I manage to get myself into such situations?"

Locating an oil lamp, he lit it using a flame from the tip of his wand, and was just blinking to get used to the light when Fortesque entered the room, rubbing his eyes.

"Florean," said Igor quickly, "no time to explain. I need your help. A disguise, as good as they come."

"Does the mask no longer work?" asked Florean concernedly, setting a candelabrum on a side table. "Have you lost it?"

"I've got it, dash it," snapped Igor, "but it wouldn't do to have two sightings of masked men at Hogwarts in less than two days, now, would it?"

"Calm down my friend," said Florean sinking into an overstuffed armchair and motioning vaguely to Igor to take another. "Never be in a hurry. It wastes time. Explain."

"I need to see Severus," said Igor without preamble. "He's taken something and it hasn't agreed with him for some reason. I suppose his blood balance must be off - he could be seriously hurt if I can't figure it out and bring his balance back to norm. I was in the castle quite recently, and while one student telling tales of a tall masked man might be dismissed, more than that won't."

"Enough," said Florean. "A simple glamour ought to do... nobody suspects a man visiting the Potions Master the day before All Hallow's Eve."

"Quickly, man," demanded Igor impatiently, "I trust he's had the sense to retreat to his rooms, but if somebody saw him in this condition and asked questions..."

"Not to worry," soothed Florean, drawing his wand. "Hold still. Instate Glamorem!"

A swirling fog enveloped Igor. He emerged from it coughing, and completely unrecognizable.

"Take care of Severus," said Florean. "I'll never forgive you if..."

"It'll be all right," said Igor, running a hand through his now reddish brown hair. "I am greatly in your debt."

Igor left the shop and Disapparated with a muffled crack.

XXX

Severus' knuckles were white as he gripped the banister. The stairway lurched wildly, finally clicking into place. Stumbling off onto the landing, Severus shook his head to clear it and continued on his way back to the classroom.

Halfway there, he realized it was impossible. He was going to pass out again and would not give Potter the satisfaction of seeing him that way twice, nor could he risk collapsing in the hall. Potter's discretion was a calculated risk, but the portraits could not be trusted. He needed to get to his rooms.

At a careful pace, he made his way through the corridors on the fastest route to his quarters, not allowing the merest wobble to betray his giddiness to the portraits lining the walls.

Arriving at his rooms, he wrenched his doors open, bypassing the wards with a muttered password he only used only at times like these when he couldn't stop to take them down properly. He kept up his façade until the door was firmly slammed behind him, taking only a second to make sure the Wards were still in place. Finally giving in, he slumped bonelessly to the floor.

XXX

Igor Karkaroff tried to ignore the strangeness of being without his mask and heavy outer robes, the strange feel of fine curly hair brushing his cheeks, and being a foot shorter, and concentrated on getting to Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

Apparating to the very edge of the grounds, he slipped quickly past the lake, then quietly in by one of the lesser-known entrances. "The secret of being allowed to pass," he mentally recited, "is to pretend you belong."

Looking for all the world like an annoyed board member or parent on the way to have a 'little chat' with the Headmaster, he stormed through the hallways, holding his lit wand before him with seaming carelessness. He was grateful for the late hour, which insured that he met nobody; he'd been warned several times that people were not the only ones who saw and told tales.

"Office first," he told himself, "closest."

But Severus' office was empty, so he pressed on.

"His Classroom," he thought to himself, "unlikely, but possible. And I might need to pick up a flask or two there..."

In a swirl of robes, he charged through the passages with the confidence he had tried so hard to hide during the Tournament. Far be it from him to reveal how often he had visited his cousin.

Reaching the classroom, he saw the faint glimmer of light beneath the door, brighter by far than that of his own wand.

He wrenched the door open, expecting to see his cousin. "Are you all right?" he began to ask, in Bulgarian.

The words died on his lips.

Before him, sitting cross-legged on Severus' desk was a very startled Harry Potter.