Philomena

***Death Eaters' Post***

Igor Karkaroff grinned. He had worked long and hard calculating the various effects and counter effects possible and to find the Spells for extracting the particular Essences he would need from the blood. All that he needed now was a Spell to attach the extracted Essences to an object.

He readied the notes into two neat scrolls, and penned a quick note to his cousin:

Severus,

It is quite clear that the ultimate effect will be one of protection, despite the Dark Lord's Malignant Intent, which shall be overridden by the residual Sacrificial Protection from the boy's mother in his blood, and the Protective Impulse from your Debt in your own. Added to this is your Benevolent Intent towards the child. Also, a good part of the Dark Lord's blood contains Potter's Essence, which will only strengthen the child. Frankly, if the finished product is used, the boy will be nearly invulnerable. He will be as safe as he can be.

I have taken the liberty of sending you two sets of my notes. The first one is for you, the other I have so written as to disguise the truth and make your colleagues believe the end effect will still be one of destruction.

One again, cousin, I apologize for inadvertently causing such harm to you, especially as they must have caused you to miss the traditional festivities at your school. At the least, I hope the pleasure involved in chastising students overly tired from late night partying will in the very least improve your mood, if not your health.

Yours in faith,

Igor Karkaroff

He whistled shrilly, then gave the letter and notes to his owl. Igor grinned and leant back in his chair as the owl fluttered off. All was well.

XXX

Severus sighed as he finished reading the note. "Only good thing about passing out on the floor is that I missed the whole damnable Halloween madness," he said to himself. "'Improve my mood,' indeed!"

He quickly read the work Igor had sent him and began to smile an evil, calculating smile. Igor was correct. Invulnerability. What more perfect way to stab the Dark Lord in the back than to set his own servants to protecting his worst enemy?

Not only was the Sacrificial Protection from Lily Potter overwhelmingly present in the Blood Snape had tested, but with the added Protection provided by the Life Debt Severus still owed, the Essence was powerfully Benedictive.

With a sadistic glee he added his own work, the remaining spells needed, to that of his cousin. "Double strike," he said. "Lucius will know I've not written all of this. He'll know I've help. To strike a man who has allies is to invite revenge. It will give him pause, not for long, but long enough."

Writing quickly, he provided his own set of false calculations to go with Igor's, as Rabastan would have to believe that the spell would cause near-immediate death. He switched positive test results to negative and played with the numbers until they seemed to prove what was wanted.

He went over everything one last time, making sure that the deception was complete. Knowing that he could not possibly allow either Lucius or Dolohov know the extent of the protection they were providing, Severus shifted the results to show a mere shadow of the extent of the spell.

With a grin, he sent a quick letter, with the usual security Charms, to Lucius, along with Igor's fabricated notes, and his own skewed results and falsehoods, before heading off to breakfast.

XXX

Lucius Malfoy smirked, tossing Severus' note on the table.

Malfoy,

I do believe I have managed to find a solution to our problem. The first set of notes is accurate. The second has been prepared to mislead Rabastan Lestrange, as he must be assured that Dolohov is still working towards the demise of the boy.

Regards,

Severus Snape.

It was so useful, Lucius thought, to have people who would do your work for you. Snape had ever so much more ability in the area of Blood Magic than he would ever have himself, as the man actually had the patience to do the dreary Arithmancy and testing involved, accurately and as swiftly as possible, whereas Lucius invariably made some careless error due to haste or distraction.

Satisfied that Severus would have provided a convincing set of lies, Lucius did not bother to read them himself, but packaged them along with his own work, which was on the most beneficial time to complete the spell according to the position of certain planets. He sent it all to Dolohov, adding a curt note of explanation.

XXX

Dolohov groaned as he saw the fat set of scrolls Lucius' owl dropped on his desk. "Damnation," he muttered to himself. "I hope they've managed to make it all work."

Quickly scanning what had been sent to him, he was satisfied. He had never been particularly good at Magical Theory, but he knew enough to realize that what they had said was plausible.

Taking a deep breath, he extracted the false calculations and sent them to Rabastan. "He won't know," he reassured himself. "He can't be punished for what he doesn't know. And if it works, I just have to stay alive long enough to enjoy it."

XXX

In his library, Rabastan Lestrange frowned, shuffling through the notes Dolohov had sent him. Something was seriously wrong. It was not Antonin's handwriting.

He examined the writing closely, hardly daring to breathe in excitement. Curiously scrawled lowercase 'r's that looked much like dented 'n's, the uncrossed 't's, the horrid habit of squeezing the last several words in a line together to save space, the flourishes of ending letters that flashed backwards through the word.

"Karkaroff," he said to himself, staring at the pages in his hand. "Igor Karkaroff... not AKed after all, were you?"

Flipping through the pages of notes quickly, he saw that the handwriting changed. Quick, sure strokes, slanting ever so slightly to the right, long thin letters. Precise, devoid of any useless frills. Severus Snape.

After Severus' pages, there were several pages of the overly curly, slightly careless, egotistical penmanship of Lucius Malfoy.

Biting his lip, he glared at the owl that had brought him the packet. Abandoning the notes, he leant over in his chair to retrieve the original envelope the packet had been sent in.

No doubt about it, it had been addressed by Dolohov himself, and delivered by Dolohov's Owl.

"What in the name of Cerebus have you gotten yourself into?" whispered Rabastan. "You were going to try and get Malfoy to help, get him to use Severus... but it's too detailed. Severus obviously knows what we're working on! Myrdin!"

Taking a deep breath, Lestrange forced himself not to panic. "Karkaroff," he said to himself. "They told us he was dead. But...damnit!"

He shuffled through the pages again, but the lettering remained the same.

"He's alive, then," he said, "or they want me to think he's alive."

Thinking quickly, Rabastan considered his options. He could confront Antonin about it, demand to know why Lucius had brought Severus further into the matter than was necessary, and demand to be informed of Karkaroff's status.

Biting his lip, he realized this would be a foolish way of going about things. Antonin was not a particularly subtle person, and had probably not considered the fact that he would recognize the handwriting at all. He had probably sent them the way he had received them, not bothering to copy.

"Thank goodness he's lazy," he thought to himself, "or I'd not have known at all."

Lucius Malfoy had a typically snobbish way of underestimating others, and probably thought Severus knew nothing, but Rabastan was sure that Severus had long since ascertained that the project he was working on, and that for which he'd been forced to give blood, were one and the same.

"And of course, if our Lord finds out we didn't do it on our own, and that we let slip what was what," Rabastan thought, "we could all end up AKed."

After a moment's thought Rabastan was convinced that Antonin hadn't any idea of whom besides Malfoy they were working with, let alone that one of the men was a supposedly dead comrade. No, the poor fool had surely solicited help from Lucius Malfoy and Lucius hadn't told him where he had acquired his own information.

"I'll have to talk with Narcissa," he decided. "If anybody can get Lucius to do anything, it's her. He's got to get Severus off the project before something goes wrong. As for Karkaroff... how in the name of the seven hills did he survive?"

XXX

"Good morning, Severus," greeted Minerva. "At last, the resident grouch agrees to join polite society."

Severus glared at her and took his seat at the high table.

"Are you quite all right, my boy?" asked Dumbledore.

"Quite," Severus answered tersely, reaching for the nearest carafe.

"You missed everything yesterday," said Pomphrey. "I can understand leaving for fear of the Weird Sisters, but honestly, you left before the Midnight Madness!"

Severus barred his teeth at her in a predatory grin. "I believe you missed more last night than I did.

"Me?" asked Pomphrey, nonplussed. "I was there until one in the morning!"

Snape simply smirked.

"Damnit," cursed Pomphrey. "You were ill weren't you! You arrogant, stupid, self-centered..."

"Beg pardon, Poppy," interrupted McGonagall snidely, "but by now you really ought to have realized that Severus only gets sick to provoke you. His condition is solely there for you to wet your temper on."

"What is that supposed to mean?" protested Poppy. "I simply care about the health of those in my care, and -"

"- and Severus is not in your care," finished McGonagall.

Severus smirked in triumph. Not five minutes had passed and he had already got a marvelous argument started.

"I do apologize for missing the festivities," he said carelessly to nobody in particular. "It was only partially unintentional."

"Harry Potter left early, too," said Sinistra . "Honestly, somebody ought to teach that child how to have fun."

Severus blinked. He hadn't even thought of the date when he had scheduled the lesson, and Potter hadn't said a word in protest. The boy was serious after all. He had missed quite a bit of a festival for an Occlumency lesson that hadn't even taken place. He had practiced when Severus had failed to arrive, instead of leaving after ten minutes to join the festivities like any normal child.

"You pay far too much attention to Mr. Potter," Severus said curtly. "Though I suppose one ought to be grateful that he spared you his heroics for one night."

McGonagall broke off her argument with Poppy to snap, "Mr. Potter is not the spoiled child you make him out to be. Just because you -"

She broke off as an owl dropped a scroll at Severus' plate, narrowly missing his kippers.

Severus, recognizing Malfoy's handwriting, wandlessly cast a Magic detection charm to be sure the note was not dangerous. It revealed nothing other than the usual silly charms Malfoy used to frill his missives, and to ensure that nobody could read them save the intended recipient. With a sigh, he unrolled it to read:

Severus,

I do believe that now that our work is over we require a celebration of some sort, or at the very least a great deal of discussion on how to proceed. Time is of the essence, our plan must not fail. Join me and Dolohov at the Triple Serpent for dinner at six.

Your friend, Lucius Malfoy.

With a grimace Severus held out the letter to a nearby candle and let it catch fire. It flared impressively, before he crumpled it to ash and let it fall to the floor. As though this were absolutely normal, he went on with his breakfast knowing that rumors would fly.

XXX

Rabastan stepped into the ice cream parlor and slid into a booth near the back. He had written Narcissa and as he had expected she had replied, eager for information when she heard that it concerned her husband. She had been the one to insist they meet at Fortescue's.

It made sense he decided. Fortescue's was a place where ordinary people met and had boring ordinary conversations. Nobody bothered to eavesdrop on two friends who met for some coffee and sweets on an ordinary Wednesday.

He hadn't waited long when he saw her stride into the room, drawing all eyes to her. He cursed under his breath. Didn't she realize that making an entrance like that attracted too much attention of the wrong sort? Even her robes were chosen as though to demand attention - she wore a green robe of cloth that looked as flimsy as a spider's web and glittered.

Rabastan found himself wondering whether his sister-in-law realized just how ridiculous it looked for a woman her age to be wearing something that revealing, especially considering the weather.

Narcissa swept through the room as though she owned it. She stopped abruptly before Rabastan, who rose to great her.

"Sister," he said respectfully, kissing her hand, "it is good to see you again."

"Brother," she replied easily, "I hope you are well."

He nodded again, pulling out her chair for her, before re-seating himself.

She smiled lightly. "How is my sister?"

Rabastan shrugged. "I haven't seen Bellatrix or my brother in some time, but I assume she is well."

"She's insane," said Narcissa shortly. "Azkaban has destroyed her mind."

Rabastan sighed. "I know, Rodolfus as well."

"Then there is no use telling me she is well," snapped Narcissa. "I've lost plenty to this damnable charade and don't you dare pretend it didn't happen! Don't you dare ignore the fact just because you weren't taken, and your mind is intact. You escaped prison on a technicality."

Realizing that Florean was approaching she turned, looking down her nose at him.

"Coffee. Black."

"And you, sir?" asked Florean.

"Hot chocolate."

Florean slipped away and the two resumed their conversation, after a rapid and discrete Silencing Spell on Rabastan's part.

"Out with it, Rabastan," said Narcissa. "What has happened with my husband to get you so agitated? What do you know and what do you want for it?"

"First of all," said Rabastan carefully, "if I am not mistaken, your love for your husband has diminished quite severely since the Fall."

"He got himself out of Azkaban," Narcissa said coldly, "and he could have helped my sister, but he left her to rot. He said he could not afford to look anything less than Light, could not afford to defend a known criminal. Just look at her now. He did that."

Rabastan nodded. "And, if the rumors are correct, he has not been... constant... of late."

His sister-in-law scowled. "He has always worn two faces."

"Then, I have this to show you," he said, pulling out the notes that had been sent him. "You know I have been set a project by our Lord?"

Narcissa nodded. "The Blood Magic," she said. "Yes."

"It is, strictly speaking, only supposed to be between myself and Antonin Dolohov," he continued, "but we weren't progressing with any amount of speed. You know neither of us is skilled in that particular branch of Magic, so I requested the assistance of your husband. Or rather, I asked Dolohov to smooth things over with him, as you know Lucius has never liked me."

She looked at her fingernails. "He never did like your family," she said thoughtfully. "Especially when you brought yourselves to his sphere by marrying into the same family as he did."

Rabastan spread the pages out before him. "Apparently, despite knowing the need for security, he felt the need to bring in outside help." He tapped one of the scrolls with a finger. "Not only Severus Snape, who gave his blood, but was not to know the use thereof, but also -" he spread a second scroll before her with a flourish and rose a challenging eyebrow. "Do you recognize this?"

She stared at the parchment in shock. "Igor," she whispered. "Damn Lucius!"

Rabastan silently congratulated himself for hitting on precisely the point that would guarantee her help. He had gambled heavily that Lucius had not told his wife of Karkaroff, and he was apparently quite right. Rabastan knew that Narcissa had been overly fond of the Bulgarian, just as she was overly fond of Snape, and that she would be murderously angry with Lucius for hiding the fact that her friend was alive.

"I am worried," he said. "He seems to be ... planning something ... untoward."

Her eyes glittered as she flipped through the pages of notes. Suddenly she leaned forward and stared directly into his eyes. "I know he is planning something untoward."

XXX

Severus waited until his class had filed out before deciding that a bit of uproar against the students was in order, considering their lack of attention due to the previous night's festivities. He cast his extremely complicated Glamours, then proceeded to drift invisibly out of his classroom as Peeves.

Quick as a gust of air, he shot to the other end of the hall and materialized there as though coming from the other direction. "Ickle Slytherins!" he cackled. "What FUN!"

In a flash wands were drawn. Severus swooped down and grabbed one after another, speeding down the hall with them, cackling insanely.

His students followed in a mad dash, shrieking with frustration.

With another evil cackle, he reached the stairwell and shot up the shaft just as the stairs swung out of reach of his students.

He slowed himself at the third floor, dropping the wands back down to the dungeon floor as soon as his students were out of sight. He knew their next professor would surely take enough points from Slytherin for their mass tardiness to make up for his favoritism.

A sob distracted him. "Myrtle," he thought vindictively. "Perfect."

Materializing once more, he floated off to her favorite haunt, where he saw her wailing.

"Hello, pimply," he cackled, "all alone?"

To his surprise, Myrtle stopped crying and smirked at him. "I know you are just jealous," she sniffed. "He told me so! Because you never died! You never even lived! You're just a petty Poltergeist! You taunt me to make yourself feel better!"

"Who's been telling fat little ugly Myrtle such things?" he sneered.

"Harry Potter!" she said proudly. "He - he's nice. And he comes to visit me! And he promised to haunt with me when he's dead! It won't be long, and then you'll all be sorry you made fun of me!"

Peeves flipped over in the air and began to sing:

Sad silly Myrtle,
Sits by herself,
With big ugly glasses,
On the bathroom shelf.

She thinks we'll believe her,
When she tells us silly lies,
If she doesn't shut her mouth,
I'll get full of flies!

"I'm not listening," said Myrtle, turning her back on him, "I don't care what you say!"

Peeves continued to sing in his spiteful voice:

Moaning Moping Myrtle sits in a stall,
Crying about anything or nothing at all!

Sad sill schoolgirl, all dead and gone,
Pretending not to listen to the moaning Myrtle song.

She moans and she sighs, she groans and she cries,
But nobody loves girls who have tears in their eyes.
She'll be all alone for the rest of her haunting,
Romance as a ghost sure must be daunting!

"I'm not listening to you!" screamed Myrtle, transparent fingers stuffed into her ears. "I'm not! I'm not! I'm not!"

"Is Myrtle upset?" taunted Peeves. He flipped over to sit cross-legged and upside down in the air. He began another taunting song:

Poor little Myrtle,
All in love with Harry,
But the boy ran away,
Because the ghost was scary!

"I'm not crying!" sobbed Myrtle. "I'm not upset! GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"

With that, Myrtle exited with a splash, in her usual unhygienic method.

Snape, realizing that he had little time before his next class, quickly returned to his room. He had had a grand time, but was left a bit puzzled. Myrtle had never before been that defiant. Something had happened. Potter had done something, but what would Potter be doing in the girls' bathroom?

With a start, he remembered the day he had found Potter in the Kitchens, the day he had first agreed to the lessons in the first place. "Myrtle threw a fit," the boy had said.

"I'll find out what's up," he thought to himself, "and the next time Peeves sees Potter, he'll sing an interesting song!"

XXX

"They are attempting to overthrow the Dark Lord and set up a triumvirate," said Narcissa.

Rabatsan choked, nearly spitting out a mouthful of hot chocolate. "They're what?"

"Attempting to overthrow the Dark Lord," she repeated blandly. "But I've seen more than that."

"More?"

She smirked and sipped her coffee. "Mirrors are handy things. It wasn't long after I overheard him first plot with Antonin to poison Severus, for fear he become too powerful, and then he tried to convince Severus that Antonin was too dangerous."

"What happened?" Rabastan asked

"Well," she said, "Antonin is scared of him, so he's agreed to go along with it, but Severus saw right through Lucius and threatened him."

"Lucius, threatened?" repeated Rabastan, not believing his ears. "How did he react?"

She smirked. "He was at a loss for words, really."

"Wish I'd been there," he said.

"My original plan was to let Severus know about the plot," she said. "So I wrote him a letter, expecting him to challenge Lucius. We all know who's the better duelist, and I had hoped... but either he did not believe my note, or he has decided not to act on it."

"Knowing Severus he's probably taking every Antidote in existence and considers himself invulnerable," mused Rabastan. "But Severus... Severus always gets out alive. He knows what he's doing. I'm sure he only accepted Lucius' plan to find away to break it from the inside."

Narcissa nodded. "Severus was always that way," she said. "Worked from the inside out. Still does. Did you know Dumbledore considers him a confidant? Brilliant man, brilliant mind."

"You realize what their plan is, though," said Rabastan. "You said they were trying to sabotage the project. They're going to drop it in my lap. I'll be blamed for the failure. I knew they were up to something, but..."

"You didn't expect your friend to stab you in the back," she said. After giving him a long considering glance, she added, "I propose we work together."

"You have a plan?"

She smiled a particularly evil smile. "I have more than one reason to work against my husband. Draco will soon reach his eighteenth birthday..."

He understood at once. "You'll inherit if Lucius dies while your son is still a minor."

She nodded. "You realize what that means? I'll be head of the both the Black and Malfoy Houses. I'll have more power than most women can contemplate."

He frowned. "Fugitive or not, Sirius Black is still Head, being the oldest male."

She smiled and shook her head. "His name disappeared from the family book. He is dead and I am the oldest of my sisters. I am the Head of the House of Black - and I intent to have the Malfoy House as well."

He smiled slowly. "I do believe that could be arranged."

"What do you have in mind?"

"We reveal to the Dark Lord that Lucius has been hiding Karkaroff from him," said Rabastan.

"And have ourselves killed for presuming the Dark Lord lied to us about his death? Surely not," said Narcissa. "I do plan on living to enjoy my inheritance."

"Better said, we'll have it inadvertently ... slip," said Rabastan.

"No," snapped Narcissa. "I happen to like Snape, and unfortunately, Snape happens to like his cousin. Nobody must know Karkaroff lives."

Rabastan winked at her. "You're not planning on grabbing the Snape line as well."

Her eyes glittered and her smile twitched. "I might."

"I see," he said, "You won't hurt Karkaroff. You won't hurt Snape. I trust you'll still hurt your husband."

She looked over the pages again. "You realize that these figures won't be correct," she said. "Their plan is to sabotage the project. I have influence with our Lord. I can have him remove you from the team, and replace you with my husband. All it would take is a few words in the right direction."

"I don't understand," he said. "Their plan will still go forward."

"Yes," she said, eyes glittering, "but when it fails, they won't have you to blame."

"You're hoping he'll be killed when the boy survives the attack?" asked Rabastan.

Narcissa nodded.

Rabstan considered it. "I'm sure, though, that Dolohov is only going along under duress. There must be some way..."

"We have time to think," said Narcissa. "They need time to find a way to have the project go forward with their intended outcome without the Dark Lord realizing their deceit. Dolohov needs to find a way to avoid his share of the blame. They still need to retrieve a personal object of the boys to infuse with the spell. Frankly, it is going to take them some time."

Rabastan nodded slowly. "I see," he said. "It has been ... enlightening to talk with you."

She nodded. "I shall write if I find out any more," she said. "We must wait, and watch. And when the time comes, we may strike."

Rabastan nodded back, dropped three sickles on the table, and walked her to the door. "And I shall write if I hear something. Good day to you, Lady ... Black."

They parted ways, immediately losing themselves in the crowd.

Florean wiped off the bar with a thoughtful look on his face. Silencing charms were so easy to reverse.

***The Triple Serpent***

Dumbledore was humming to himself as he shuffled down a forth floor corridor on his way to the library when he met Severus coming towards him.

"Headmaster," said Severus. "I have been looking for you for quite some time."

"Really, my boy?" asked Dumbledore. "On one of the few hours I'm not sitting in my office, too. What is it?"

Severus held up a hand to stop him. "Not in the hallway."

Dumbledore nodded and they changed course, heading to Severus' laboratory. Once there, Dumbledore looked askance at him, waiting for an explanation.

Severus shut the door, leaned against it, and said, "I've been invited to dinner with Lucius Malfoy. You remember his wife sent me a letter..."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, yes. She said he was trying to poison you."

"And I've reason to believe she was absolutely right," said Snape. "I have already taken an Antidote. I'm not sure he will try it tonight, but I've finished the work he wanted and he may not have any more use for me. If I don't come back -"

"Severus," interrupted Albus, "for Merlin's sake -"

"Don't interrupt me!" snarled Snape. "I haven't much time. I'm expected at six. I have taken an antidote, but if he should try anything further, if I am incapacitated, if I do not return or give word by nine, you will find everything you need in the third desk drawer on the left side. Good night."

Severus turned to go, but Albus got up and grabbed his arm. Severus stopped dead and turned his head to glare at the hand detaining him.

"Severus," said Albus urgently. "Wait just a moment."

Severus was indecisive for a fraction of a second before he gave in. Dumbledore let go of his arm. "Listen, Severus," he said quickly, "I have... for years I have... I ..."

Severus jerked his head in impatience.

"I've been unfair to you," finished Dumbledore rapidly. "I have done the same with Mr. Potter. I believed that I had to keep my distance from you, to save you danger. I... I knew that if it were known that we were on good terms you would be suspected and I couldn't bear the thought of your being hurt.

"It was safer, so much safer, if you didn't believe I trusted you, if you were on your guard against me, if I did not allow myself to care for you. But something someone told me made me realize that it isn't fair of me to make such decisions for other people.

"People make mistakes and this is my greatest. I realize that now. I realize that if... if I had lost you last night... You would have died believing that I distrusted you.

"I have no right to treat you the way I have. I can only say that I did it to keep you safe. I ask you to understand and... I beg your forgiveness."

Severus blinked at the man in front of him. For a moment he was nonplussed, having no idea how to react. Disbelief flooded his mind, followed by confusion, and finally anger.

"How dare you," he whispered dangerously, abandoning the door to step forward. "How dare you! You sent me to spy, Albus! You demanded it of me in the first war. Is that the action of a man who only wants to keep me safe?"

Dumbledore's expression changed from pleading to pained, but Severus took no notice, spitting out acidly, "I have been in a constant state of jeopardy, only made worse by my work for your cause. You knew the Dark Lord had ordered me to become close to you.

"Did you think the Dark Lord just sat about, waiting for us to report? No. The Dark Lord has hundreds of Death Eaters - and we wear our masks not only to hide from the enemy, but also to hide from each other. You know that I can only tell you the names of those closest to me in the circle. There are hundreds whose identity is as much of a mystery to me as mine is to them. Every Death Eater is a spy, Albus.

"The Dark Lord is like a spider, with a web so delicate and at the same time so invincible. It's made up of us, his faithful. And we ensnare not only the enemy, but also one another.

"A Death Eater cannot hide from his Lord. One never knows when another is watching, or if one is watching another.

"You knew I was ordered to become close to you. That the Dark Lord expects me to learn your plans, hear your secrets?"

Slowly, Albus nodded, dreading what Severus would say next. He knew that Severus was the most angry, not when he shouted, but when he whispered.

"Every child in this school believes that your trust in me hangs by a hair," hissed Severus. "What do you think the Death Eaters believe? Have you ever experienced Crucio, Albus?"

Dumbledore sank into a chair, stricken.

"Have you any idea what you've put in danger?" Severus went on mercilessly, his voice gaining volume. "It's not just my life. It's your entire Order. One slip of my tongue after a Curse too many and I could very well spill our every secret. I tread on dangerous ground. I can fall at any second; any infantile thing could give me away.

"I need to know everything, so that I do not carelessly betray anything," Snape shouted. "You cannot play games with me, Albus Dumbledore!"

A ringing silence fell. Severus took a deep breath and looked at the man sitting in front of me. He was struck by the unfamiliar emotion of pity, as he saw the most feared and loved man in the Wizarding World writhe in a fit of guilt.

"You've reminded me often that those who set traps often fall into them," said Severus softly. "Among my associates it is said that those who try to protect others often stab them in the back."

Dumbledore said nothing, staring at Severus.

"It's a delicate dance, saving people," said Severus. "I tried to save Regulus Black, warning him of the dangers involved in the Dark Lord's service. He was killed for acting on my warnings. Sirius Black tried to save the Potter family and inadvertently handed them over to the Dark Lord. Harry Potter tried to save Sirius Black and got him killed."

"Enough, Severus," said Dumbledore finally. "Enough."

Severus turned away from the Headmaster, crossing his arms. "I'm sorry, Albus."

"You've no cause to be," said Dumbledore, rising with slight difficulty. "You are cruel, but to be kind. You are... a great man, Severus Snape."

Severus turned back slowly, eyes narrowing.

Dumbledore spread his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. "All my life, I have watched the world spiral into wickedness and felt that only I stood in the way. The first time with Grindelwald I was forced. I was given the ability to stop him; I had to do what others could not.

"When he had fallen, our world was so quiet. So peaceful. I felt that as I had brought about that peace, it was my duty to maintain it. I watched for evil, stamping on it before it grew too large to contain. I still believe that is my duty.

"Perhaps it is my fault, Severus. Perhaps I have destroyed the world I set out to protect. Tom Riddle... even as a first year I saw him for what he was - cold and sadistic, cruel beyond what one could believe of a child. Perhaps if I had tried to help him instead of destroy him..."

"What is done is done," said Severus heavily. "I believe it was you who told me that the consequences of any one action were so complex that it was impossible to say conclusively who was at fault for any particular occurrence."

There was a silence; Dumbledore looked at his hands. "You should go," he said finally. "You should not be late."

Severus sighed and retrieved his cloak from where he'd hung it when he'd gone to look for the Headmaster.

"Sir," he said as he fastened the cloak about his throat with Remus' pin. "I believe I am guilty of a similar offence to yours. All my life I have been harsh, cruel, even to those I had no wish to hurt. Unlike you, I have no excuse. I am simply not an nice man."

Albus gave a wry smile. "When have I ever said that I only like nice people?"

Severus shook his head. "You have just told me that you look for evil to stamp out," he said.

Albus' smile grew slightly. "I have learned that Evil is normally hidden behind a seductively polite, proprietary mask. Who's to say that Good doesn't do the same and hide behind a mask of callousness?"

Severus, remembering the side effects Igor had warned about, quietly went to the Potions cabinet and selected his most effective Potions against nausea and dizziness. Pocketing them, he made his way to the door without a word.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, stopping him once again.

Snape looked over his shoulder, raising one challenging eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Be careful."

XXX

Kingsley Shacklebolt was bored. He was sitting in his office at the Ministry, having finished his paperwork, but unable to leave until nine. He checked the clock above the door and stifled a sigh; not even six yet.

The job was merely a cover, so that he could perform duties for the Order without inciting suspicion. Unfortunately, there were far fewer missions than workdays and Shaklebolt found himself in the uncomfortable position of having to keep up an incredibly dull charade.

With a sigh he drew out his DocuSearch Parchment. It was quite a handy item. Anything on public record could be accessed through it by simply writing down what or whom one was looking for.

At first he scrawled his own name. He found nothing but his Hogwarts grades. With a sigh, he looked up several of his friends, finding nothing of importance.

On a whim, he wrote down the name of the newest Order member - Philomena Lupin.

The parchment hummed for a moment before the ink spidered across the page spelling out the results.

Kingsley sat up abruptly, staring at the parchment in his hands. "I don't believe it!"

Getting to his feet, he left his office, clutching the page in his hand as he made his way to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. He rapped on the door and stepped into the room as soon as it was opened.

"Arthur," he said. "I need to talk to you."

XXX

Antonin fidgeted with his collar as he sat in the Triple Serpent while waiting for his allies. He was uncomfortable. The Triple Serpent catered to a particularly supercilious crowed, and Dolohov, never having quite fit in with the Pure Blood elite, felt quite out of place.

Snape arrived first, looking almost disappointed in something.

"Good evening, Severus," said Antonin. "You are well?"

Snape nodded and took his seat. "Thank you, yes. Yourself?"

Antonin nodded.

Snape gave an irritated sigh, "Malfoy will be late, as usual."

"I suppose," said Antonin.

"Tell me, Dolohov," said Snape, idly looking through the scroll a waiter had drifted by to hand him. "What do you plan on doing when the three of us rule the world?"

Dolohov coughed and made the impulsive and rather dangerous decision of trusting a man he did not know very well. "I don't think I shall get to that point, Snape."

Snape smirked, glad to be spared the trouble of persuasion. "I don't believe he means either of us to."

Antonin swallowed. "I ... do you think he'll..."

"Be utterly ruthless and rid himself of us the moment he no longer needs our help?" finished Snape. "Of course."

"If you think he's going to kill you," snapped Antonin in frustration, "then why in the name of Circe did you agree?"

Snape looked at him with a condescending smile. "Why did you agree?"

"I didn't want to be murdered in my sleep," said Antonin defensively.

"People are easier to conquer if you let them believe they are smarter than you are," said Snape. "Malfoy now believes he has us both at his beck and call. He believes he can use us as he wills and then dispose of us when we become too dangerous or inconvenient."

Severus leaned forward and fixed his most intimidating stare on the other man. "You've always allowed him to use you, Dolohov. A good thing your lawyer found that slight technical difficulty in the details of your arrest... or you would still be in Azkaban for his crime. Tell me, was keeping his record clean worth facing the Dementors?"

Dolohov shivered involuntarily.

"Are you cold?" sneered Snape. "Our Lord gave you the Blood Project because he didn't need you for anything else; because he could afford to have you squander hours on something with no guaranty of success.

"Lucius took you into his plan, not because of your family, but because you were working on the project, and he wants to manipulate that for his own ends. He didn't try to use Rabastan, because he knows the man will immediately go to Narcissa."

Dolohov ran a hand through his hand. "What do you want of me, Snape?"

"Do you know," he said lazily, "he even told me that you were getting to be too powerful, he wanted me to believe you were trying take control of the project, to betray us."

"He said the same thing to me about you," said Antonin slowly. "He said you were too powerful. That he would have too..."

Snape grinned nastily. "It is very simple, Dolohov. Haven't you seen it yet? When the Blood Magic fails to kill Potter, indeed, when it turns out to protect Potter, our Lord will be less than pleased. Whom do you think will receive the blame?"

Antonin blinked.

"You," hissed Severus. "Have you survived the first war and Azkaban just to be executed by our own Lord for somebody else's plot?"

"It's always been somebody else's plot," mumbled Antonin bitterly.

"There's one way to save yourself," said Snape, laying his final card on the table, "and that is to destroy Malfoy first."

"I can't," protested Antonin. "How would I -"

"You, perhaps not," said Snape. "But we."

"But... but... how?" asked Antonin.

Severus lifted a finger to interrupt him. "Careful."

Several tense seconds later, Malfoy strode in through the door, depositing hat and gloves with a waiter he did bother to look at.

XXX

"Hello, Kings," said Arthur, shoving a pile of paperwork off of a chair so that Kingsley could sit. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, exactly" said Kingsley slowly, handing over the parchment. "I was just too paranoid to see a very simply solution. Take a look at that."

Arthur scanned the document. "She was adopted, then," he said. "I don't see what that has to do with anything, or why it would even be any of our business."

Kingsley wetted his lips. "Mad-Eye, Sturgis and I... well, after she came, I'm afraid we jumped to some very stupid conclusions. You see... it's illegal for a Werewolf to have children, and you know how Remus is about rules, especially about not hurting others, or putting them in danger. We just couldn't see how he would..."

"Still none of your business," Arthur pointed out mildly.

"All the same," continued Kingsley, "we thought she couldn't possibly be his, and because he isn't the type to lie without a reason, we thought he was... hiding her for somebody. She was friendly with Snape, and ..."

Arthur bursted out laughing. "Snape? Ye gods, Kings. That man may have joined the Death Eaters, but he would never have a child outside of marriage. He just isn't that sort of man. He's too... honorable. It would be beneath his dignity."

Kingsley blinked. "Beneath his dignity," he repeated. "I admit we were stupid. But... it is rather odd. According to these records he must have adopted her just about when she was born. And that was while Remus was still in school - which doesn't make any sense either."

Arthur frowned. "It does seem a bit odd," he admitted, "but it's none of our business."

Kingsley made an impatient motion. "If she isn't who he says she is, than who is she? And if he can lie to us about his children, what else could- "

"Now, Kings," said Arthur. "It may look odd, but have you ever known Remus to do something without a reason?"

"No," admitted Kingsley. "But I've also never known him to do anything of the sort. It's not in his character. And the dates on these papers... it doesn't look right. She was born anonymously in some Muggle hospital. Remus adopted her even though he was single, a Werewolf, not quite out of school, with no one to support him and hardly any hope for a steady job considering the war."

"It can't have been legal," said Arthur. "And maybe it was an incredibly irrational thing for him to do considering the circumstances. But there isn't any reason for either of us to go into it at all."

Kingsley looked over the papers again. "There's... wait - Merlin's Beard! This was cleverly done..."

"What was cleverly done?" asked Arthur.

"Well it really isn't any of our business," teased Kingsley, "but they're Muggle records. They're dated eighteen years ago, but the scroll tallies exactly when the records were made. It dates these at ten years ago. They're fraudulent."

Arthur sighed. "All right," he said. "So he's filed fraudulent adoption papers with the Muggle government. It's still -"

"None of our business," finished Kingsley. "But do you know the oddest thing about them?"

Arthur shook his head.

"Remus didn't file these."