Philomena

***In Vino Veritas***

Malfoy smirked as he seated himself at the table. The waiter drifted by and slipped him a scroll that he did not bother to read. Dolohov took it to look over, slightly miffed that he himself had not received one in spite of the fact that he had signaled the waiter while the other two had not.

"We've a fair bit of planning to do," said Malfoy. "The calculations I sent the Dark Lord were accurate - the best time to do the spell is the twenty fourth of December. Venus will be in Libra, a good omen for spells involving final judgment. More importantly it will be the last new moon of the year, signifying that -"

"We did read what you sent, Lucius," interrupted Snape. "I do believe our Lord will wait until then. He will not risk the Spell being at a low affectivity, which gives us considerable time to plan."

"More than a month, yes," said Dolohov, "but you can get found out and killed fairly often in that amount of time -"

"Relax, Dolohov," drawled Malfoy. "Everything has gone according to plan so far."

"We have sabotaged the project effectively," said Snape, "but we have, as yet, no plan for what to do after it is put in effect."

"After?" asked Malfoy lightly, as the waiter drifted by again with a bottle of wine and three glasses. "We need to plan the time before. The Dark Lord would consider what we have now only half done! We need to plan how to infiltrate Hogwarts, how to get the boy in contact with the Charm, how to -"

"That is simple," interrupted Snape, opening the bottle and pouring. "I could easily access some item of the boy's to infuse with the spell. Then it is merely a matter of casting the Activation Charm at the appropriate time. What really needs to be planned is the aftermath. The Dark Lord will be exceedingly angered when the project fails to kill the boy as promised. He's going to punish somebody."

Dolohov snatched up his glass and took a deeper sip than what might be generally considered polite, to steady his nerves. He was not by nature a brave man, but considered pot-valiance better than none.

Malfoy blinked. "That is not important," he said smoothly. "I intend for it to be a dual attack, you see. The Dark Lord must remove Dumbledore, before we can make our move for European domination. His ire at failing to remove Potter would then be alleviated by the Headmaster's defeat with perhaps a half a dozen student casualties."

Severus hid his disgust, adding, "Lucius, I hate to disappoint you but there are rarely that many students at Hogwarts during the Holidays and the Dark Lord never forgets incompetence."

"We'll take that Portkey when we get to it," said Lucius, cavalierly sipping of his wine.

Severus grinned maliciously and shot a pointed look at Dolohov, who gave a nervous twitch and took another gulp of the wine. Malfoy missed the nonverbal exchange paying attention to the waiter who, ever so discreetly, winked in his direction behind the backs of Lucius' companions. Malfoy smirked.

"A full scale attack, though," said Dolohov, trying to retain his composure, clutching at his glass, "The Dark Lord wouldn't want us to plan something like that. Especially if the plan is supposedly only mine and Rabastan's. He would hate the thought of not having come up with it himself..."

Snape grimaced. "It will be a delicate operation," he said. "I say we wait until he Calls us next. Present what we've given to Rabastan, but say you believe it needs refinement by those more talented than either of you. Then, either he takes it over himself when he sees its supposed potential, or he delegates the responsibility."

"It's too much of a chance," protested Malfoy. "He could give it to anybody."

"Precisely," said Snape. "If either of us receive the project, we can suggest your plan, hoping for the best. If he keeps it for his own use, then we watch, we wait, and we think up some way to save Dolohov and Rabastan from the wrong end of a Killing Curse. If, however, he gives the project to some third party, then so much the better. They receive the blame when it fails."

"But we must guarantee Dumbledore's fall!" said Lucius. "This needs to move quickly. We can't protect Potter very long, and we can't allow Potter to destroy the Dark Lord before the Dark Lord has put us in a position to control Britain at the very least."

Snape sighed. "The Dark Lord may be insane, Lucius, but he isn't stupid. He will most definitely think before he acts. He will realize that two of his targets will be sitting, unsuspecting, on Christmas Eve, for him to strike. He won't pass up such an opportunity - and he certainly won't need you to point it out to him."

The menus melted into a cloud of blue vapor that drifted in a swirl to the kitchens, sensing that each man had made up his mind. Barely enough time for a Muggle cook to reach for the proper pan, the waiter slipped towards their table as two hazy bowls of soup appeared before Lucius and Antonin, slowly solidifying into reality. The waiter cast a quick charm, ensuring appropriate silverware.

"Forgoing the crème de potiron, Severus?" asked Malfoy.

"Saying it in French doesn't make it more appealing," said Snape. "I never did care for pumpkin in any form."

"You mean you don't enjoy eating," said Malfoy. "It's a sacrilege the way you consider good food to be simply nourishment. You've no manners, no polish, no joi d'vivre- "

"Spare me that," snapped Snape. "Goodness knows we've more to talk about than your epicurean dreams."

"This is a reality," said Malfoy. "A touch of culinary excellence. An experience for the taste buds to rival -"

"It's pumpkin soup," said Dolohov shortly. His glass replenished itself for the fourth time, as the wine level of the bottle on the other side of the table sank.

"Neither of you have any comportment," sniffed Malfoy. "I'm astounded they haven't yet cast you out for your inability to appreciate the culinary art."

"I suppose," said Snape dryly, "that they've stayed their hand at throwing me out so that they can poison me instead."

Malfoy started almost imperceptibly.

"A fitting punishment for an offender of the Food God," joked Dolohov. "Who is the god of food?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at Dolohov. "The wine has gone to your head."

Dolohov blinked at his glass. "I haven't drunk half of it."

"It's charmed," said Malfoy, as if it were obvious.

"Bacchus," said Dolohov. "That's it. We eat and drink to Bacchus!"

Malfoy smirked. "As long as you don't end up smoking to Bacchus. Seems to cause a might bit of trouble for the Muggles."

Severus' second eyebrow joined the first. "And he expects to conquer the world."

"It was funny," protested Malfoy.

"If that is your idea of wit, I'm surprised you ever got through Hogwarts," said Snape.

"I don't get it," complained Dolohov. "What's funny?"

"Nothing," said Snape shortly. "You are both making terrible fools of yourselves. The staff might cancel the privacy charms just to be able to listen to your stupidity."

Malfoy sighed. "Always so formal, Severus," he said.

"You were the one accusing me a moment ago of having no polish," Snape reminded, drawing his wand. "Sobrietus."

Dolohov slumped back in his chair, blinked and clutched his head.

"So sorry," said Severus, "but you really ought to have realized before now that the best time to take leave of ones ability to think is not during a conversation about world domination."

A cup of black coffee swirled into existence by Dolohov's soup.

"A triumvirate," said Severus, shaking his head, "consisting of a fop, a lush, and a professor. How quaint."

"I'm not a lush," protested Dolohov with very little fervor.

Malfoy smirked, inwardly reminding himself that as soon as Snape had actually touched his wine, the man would die.

XXX

Arthur abandoned all pretense of being disinterested and grabbed the parchment from Kingsley to look the documents over for himself.

"The automatic filing system works by assigning a number from anybody who files a document," he said, "as well as that of the parties involved. Remus' and the filer's don't match."

"Somebody extremely powerful or very well connected did this," said Arthur. "They obviously took extraordinary pains to forge this as a Muggle document. The filer even obscured his or her magical signature."

Kingsley frowned in thought. "It takes a lot to obscure a magical signature. Whoever did it was desperate to hide something."

"But what?" asked Arthur. "I don't understand it. I've known Remus for quite some time and I know he hasn't had her in his care for that long. I knew when he brought her in the first time that he couldn't have had her for more than a month. He couldn't have hidden something of that magnitude."

"Somebody went very far to," Kingsley pointed out. "Personally, I can't help but think he's gotten himself in over his head. He's hiding her for somebody."

"But the forgery is ten years old!" protested Arthur. "It can't have been going on for ten years!"

"Maybe she just hasn't been living with him for all that time," said Kingsley. "They could have made the agreement that he take custody in the event of an emergency."

"But why pretend the adoption took place at birth?" asked Arthur. "Unless it was somebody who had to hide the child for some reason. Some friend of his in trouble - an unmarried woman, or somebody in danger, or..."

Kingsley shook his head. "I hate to be cruel, but how many close friends does Remus have? He had the Potters, Sirius, the Prewetts, then you and the rest of the Order. He very rarely gets close to anybody."

Arthur frowned. "It is possible Sirius had... but they couldn't hide a thing like that. The Blacks would have a family record to be sure about their line, after all, ensuring that the information on the tapestry was accurate."

"It has to be one of us he's hiding her for," said Kingsley. "Somebody he trusts."

"There's no reason for any of us to hide a child!" protested Arthur.

Shackelbolt narrowed his eyebrows, considering. "Unless she were in terrible danger," he said. "Unless... unless they were afraid of losing her if she were known..."

"None of us could have had a child or is the type to..." began Arthur.

His friend grinned slowly at him.

"No," said Arthur. "I don't care how logical it looks right now, it just can't be who I think you think it is."

"Who else would it be?" said Kingsley. "Snape has the power for this kind of deception. He's the only one of us who'd have been able to think it up in the first place. He has a hold on Remus - had one even back then - could have threatened to expose his Lycanthropy. That doesn't matter now, but Remus would think the papers were legal..."

Arthur shook his head violently. "I'm telling you that Snape isn't the type," he said again. "Snape is violently protective of the people he considers worth it, but he's a proud man. He doesn't hide what he is. If he didn't hide his Dark Mark from the Minister of Magic, do you think he'd hide a family from the world?"

"If he was afraid for her safety during the war," began Kingsley, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would have used her to manipulate him -"

"Ten years ago the war was over!" Arthur took a deep breath to control himself. "I know I sound like a broken record by now - Muggle thing, means I'm repeating myself - but no matter how strange or interesting it is, it really isn't our business. Remus can take care of himself, Kingsley. If he is in trouble, if he has somehow been coerced into this, then he will ask for help if he needs it. Otherwise, he's gone into this willingly; we've no reason to interfere."

"But -"

"I'm serious, Kings," said Arthur. "Remus, in spite of the way we all feel we need to watch out and care for him, is an extremely capable man. Not only that, he is an extremely private man. You didn't see it, but when Hestia and Vance asked him about her... Let it rest."

Kingsley didn't look convinced.

"Promise me," insisted Mr. Weasley, "that you'll let it drop. That you won't mention it to him."

"I won't mention it to him," said Kingsley.

Arthur nodded and seemed to suddenly remember where he was. "Well then, I had better get back to work."

"Thanks, Arthur," said Shakelbolt. "Good night."

As he left he office, Shakelbolt smirked to himself. He had only promised he wouldn't mention it to Remus.

XXX

Snape glided his forefinger up and down the stem of his glass in what looked like an unconscious gesture but was quite deliberate. He considered it to his advantage if his enemies though him preoccupied. It seemed to be working; Malfoy's eyes kept straying to Severus' hand.

"A good year," said Malfoy to Dolohov. "A bit dry, but well rounded."

Dolohov nodded.

Snape started as though brought out of deep thought, though he hadn't been. "As good as any," he said.

"You haven't tasted it," said Dolohov pointedly.

"You," returned Snape, "have tasted quite enough for the both of us."

"Are you not feeling well?" asked Malfoy with false concern, as the empty bowls of soup faded into nothingness. "You haven't touched a thing."

Snape suppressed a smirk. Malfoy had just missed an ideal time to kill him and would probably be furious if he knew. "I've been feeling a bit off color," he said casually. "Nothing to worry about."

"If you don't mind my saying so," said Dolohov, "you look rather worn out. You really ought to eat."

Snape smiled lazily. "But of course. I simply do not drink on an empty stomach."

Malfoy gave an impatient frown. The waiter removed the empty wine bottle and replaced it with a smooth practiced motion, not breaking his gliding stride. Dolohov's glass burbled, refilling itself, as it was the only empty one on the table. He automatically sipped at it.

"Don't overdo it," admonished Snape. "We'd hate to have more terrible puns about bad Muggle habits."

Antonin gave a week grin. "What about the school?" he asked. "I mean, after Dumbledore's gone. Somebody will have to run the school."

"Run it?" asked Lucius with an amused smirk. "We're destroying it. It won't need to be run."

"I doubt that is wise," said Snape. "You do realize that once the school is destroyed that the children will need somewhere to go. They'll be a hindrance. Especially for those of us who have their own."

Antonin sipped carefully, eyeing the bottle as though daring it to try and refill his glass again.

"The children aren't the issue," said Malfoy. "Their parents are."

"I thought children were the issue of their parents," said Snape blandly, watching the main course materialize on the table.

"And you dared criticize when I made a joke," Malfoy sighed.

Snape shrugged. "I've been corrupted by the present company."

Dolohov glared morosely at his chosen meal of breaded flounder and gave it a jab with his fork.

"Their parents," repeated Malfoy, "need to be frightened into obedience or at least inaction. The best way to control a parent is to threaten a child."

"But the best way to guarantee their ire is to hurt their child," returned Snape. "Dumbledore may fall, but the school must remain. A false sense of security for the parents, if you will, while one of us shall run the school and guide their minds. Not to mention the fact that if the school is shut, so will every school in the nation, causing an enormous problem."

"It's debatable," said Malfoy, "I'm not sure..."

Malfoy stopped speaking abruptly, as Snape at last sipped his wine. Snape gave a slight frown, stared at his glass, and took another sip.

"I agree it is a good wine," he said, "but it's odd..."

"What's odd?" asked Dolohov, his eyes darting between Malfoy and Snape. "Is something wrong?"

"It's got a curious aftertaste," said Snape, setting his glass down. "Of raspberries."

"I didn't notice," said Dolohov.

"Of course you didn't," said Malfoy, his voice slightly higher than normal. "You were drinking it like a fish!"

"Fish don't drink," protested Dolohov.

Severus gave the slightest smile. The raspberry taste was Karkaroff's signature; his cousin had seen fit to warn him. Knowing what was coming, the small vials in his pocket offered comfort against the side effects he had been warned would manifest.

For a long moment, the conversation stilled as they concentrated on food. Malfoy carefully watched Snape's glass, growing more and more alarmed as the wine grew less and less.

Dolohov ate, drank, and tried very hard to forget whom he was with.

Slowly, Severus became dizzy. He blinked as the room began to sway slightly. Dropping his fork he reached into his pocket and drew out his first vial, emptying it into his remaining wine, while wandlessly casting a Charm to be sure they did not mix or interact with each other.

"To lower the alcohol content," he lied in answer to the unasked questions of his companions. "It is quite strong."

Malfoy bit his lip. The poison was supposed to have made him die within seconds. It was also supposed to taste of nothing - and his own wine had had no aftertaste.

"It's not that high," said Dolohov, "probably about fifteen or sixteen percent."

"I'm sure you can estimate it fairly accurately," snapped Malfoy.

Antonin winced.

"You wife wrote me recently," said Snape on a whim. "Was quite anxious about her son, you know. Whether the school was safe and what-not."

Lucius blinked, caught off guard. "Well," he said sourly, glaring at Severus' wine. "I suppose she's merely hoping something will happen to him before his birthday so that she can inherit the Manor."

Severus congratulated himself mentally for having guessed correctly. "You're not serious," he said. "Considering the way she coddles him I was sure she was far too attached to sacrifice him for something so petty as your estate."

"Petty?" repeated Lucius. "My estate?"

"Sour grapes," muttered Dolohov under his breath.

"You're quite right, Antonin," said Snape, "I have no estate, but that is entirely beside the point. Do you seriously think your wife would hurt your son to get your estate?"

Lucius nodded. "Of course. Wouldn't you?"

"I won't get your estate if I hurt your son," said Snape sardonically.

"You know what I meant," said Lucius peevishly. "It makes no difference either way, however. If she hurts Draco, I'll be able to divorce her on very good grounds."

"What about the Malfoy line?" asked Dolohov. "Aren't you at least worried she'll-"

"Cut off the last remaining scion?" finished Lucius. "Of course not. I never should have married Narcissa in the first place. She's far too closely related. Draco is not at all what I would have hoped. If, for instance, I could persuade the Putherls..."

Severus, having finished his glass of poison and cure, said, "The Putherls? Haven't they a blood traitor in the line?"

"Hasn't everybody?" Malfoy commented carelessly. "It is no matter, however, considering Narcissa hasn't done anything."

Severus' plate, only half eaten, dissolved into mist and disappeared.

"Lost your appetite?" asked Dolohov.

"No," said Snape carelessly getting to his feet. "I simply must be back. I'm promised elsewhere."

"But -" protested Malfoy, at a loss, "you didn't -"

"Yes, I am sorry I could not finish the discussion with you," said Snape. "I should have warned you our meeting could be cut short. A good evening to you both."

With a curt nod, Snape turned to go.

"Good night," said Dolohov.

"Good night," repeated Malfoy automatically, watching Severus billow out the door without so much as a stagger. "Damnit."

"What's wrong?" asked Antonin.

"Nothing to worry about," assured Lucius. "Either I've been double crossed or the man has a stomach lined with bezoars."

XXX

Philomena opened the door to let in Severus Snape. He was leaning weakly against the doorjamb, protectively cradling his stomach with one hand.

"Is your father in?"

She nodded, motioning him inside. "Yes, stuck in a book all yesterday," she said. "I don't think he even realized it was Halloween."

"He had better be reading it," said Severus tightly, letting go of the doorframe, staggering to the nearest chair and doubling over in it. "Went through enough for it."

"Mr. Snape!" She was fussing over him in an instant. "Are you all right? You're about to faint, here let me -"

Philomena reached to loosen his collar. With a sudden snarl he grabbed her hand and wrenched it behind her back. "You do not touch me," he whispered dangerously.

She gave a shocked whimper. Snape came back to himself and released her. "I'm ... sorry," he said, hunching over again. "I ..."

"Snape," said Remus from the doorway. "I don't mean to intrude, but what the bloody hell?"

Snape didn't answer, didn't even look up, but clutched one hand to his throat, breathing hard.

"He... I think I..." stuttered Philomena. "He doesn't look well, I was only trying to help, and ..."

"She tried to loosen my collar," said Snape in a strangled voice. "I overreacted. I'm sorry, it's no excuse, but I've been poisoned repeatedly in the last couple of hours and my nerves are frazzled..."

Never had Remus seen Snape so undone, so off his guard. Carefully keeping the mental cage about Moony, he stepped forward.

"Do I need to go for Albus?" he asked. "A Healer?"

Snape shook his head rapidly, falling back in the chair. "Came here because... didn't want him to know," he said. "Given him enough worry, nearly died last night, but ... I'm all right now, took the Antidote, should only take a while for this to... pass..."

Remus exchanged a look a quick look with his daughter. With a nod, she left the room at once.

"Snape," said Remus quietly. "I need to understand to help you. You said you took an Antidote. Will you be needing more? Are you out of terminal danger? Do you need something for the symptoms?"

Snape shook his head and Remus winced inwardly. Snape looked simply terrible; a fine sheen of perspiration covered his grimacing face, which was even paler than normal.

"It was the wine, damnit," whispered Snape. "It's slowed the effect of... the Ashwinder eggs... it... I... the nausea should pass. The dizziness will be... on and off for... a while yet. If I'd only ... brewed it myself... but there wasn't time and I knew they wouldn't wait to kill me... Could've waited 'till Christmas."

"You'll faint if you don't loosen that," said Remus. "Is there a reason you didn't let her?"

"I've a reason for everything," Severus snapped weakly. "Don't..."

"It's all right," soothed Remus. "I won't. I just... look, Snape, I'm not a healer, and I've not a clue what to do, but - you shan't die under my roof. I won't let you."

Philomena returned with a shallow bowl covered in cloth cradled in both hands and a long thin bottle under one arm. She set the items carefully on the floor next to Snape, then shot a questioning look at her father who gestured at her to wait.

"I just... need to let it pass," whispered Snape. "I'm sorry for... for imposing, but I... couldn't go back to Hogwarts. Albus knows I'm not well, and..."

Philomena wetted the cloth thoroughly in the bowl, wrung it out and folded it into thirds. Stepping behind Snape's chair, she reached to dab his face with it. He swatted weakly at her, but Remus stopped his hand. She lay the cloth over his forehead and held it at his temples. "Consanesce," she whispered.

Severus shivered before losing consciousness.

"Substantia consopire," said Philomena to Remus, as though that explained everything. "He needs to sleep."

Remus bit his lip. "All very well and good," he said, as she dropped the cloth back into the bowl, "but he said something's already interfered with the Antidote, and that... he nearly died yesterday. That is quite a risk to take. You should have asked before you acted."

Philomena sighed. "It's a neutral Potion," she said. "It's purely psychological, it won't interfere with whatever physical effects the other had. It should relax him enough to sleep. Convince him nothing was wrong."

Remus nodded slowly. "I hope you're right," he said. "I've never seen him so ... unraveled."

She frowned in thought, getting a glass and pouring one finger of what she'd brought in the bottle. "I suppose he came here because he knew he could collapse safely," she said.

"Did he hurt you," asked Remus.

She shook her head, setting the glass on the arm of Severus' chair. "And even if he had, he was startled. I'd be snappish too if I'd just been poisoned."

"You think a Malacia will do him any good?" asked Remus, eyeing the glass.

She shrugged. "He can take it if he's still nauseous when he wakes," she said. "Let's give him a few minutes."

Snape let out a low moan and shifted in his chair.

Remus shook his head. "Wish I knew what he was thinking," he said.

"Careful what you wish for," she admonished. "You might get it."

Remus sighed. "He does too much."

"You're one to talk," she smirked. "You've plastered yourself to that book."

"It's not Order business," he protested. "That's for myself."

She nodded, looking only half convinced. "He said, when he came in, that you had better be reading it. That doesn't sound very much like something for yourself."

"It was his solution for the problem with Moony," admitted Remus. "It's working quite well."

"I noticed you didn't murder him when he grabbed my arm," she said mildly. "How does it work?"

"Shields my mind," he said. "It's meant as a protection from outside penetration, but it seems to work just as well at guarding my own mind from hers."

"Can people do that?" she asked. "Read your mind, I mean?"

Remus sighed. "I'd have said 'yes,' before I'd read the book," he said ruefully. "Apparently, minds are far more complicated than any of us ever though - still not half understood."

She smirked. "I think that if our brains were simple enough to understand, we'd be too stupid to."

He blinked, working out what she'd said, before throwing his head back and laughing.

"It wasn't that funny," she said when he'd subsided.

"I know," he said, "but in times like these we take every last laugh we can get."

She giggled. "I've a hard time imagining the Death Eaters cracking jokes over pumpkin soup."

"You'd be surprised," came Severus' deep, sleepy voice from the chair.

"You're awake," blinked Remus.

"So it would seem," grumbled Snape.

"But you can't wake up a sleep induced by a Substantia Consopire that quickly," protested Philomena.

"I've been practicing Occlumency since before you were born," said Snape. "It doesn't have any effect on me. Your Consanesce, however, was most welcome."

"So you just decided to eavesdrop, did you?" asked Remus.

"When have I not when given an opportunity?" shrugged Snape. "I apologize. It's an instinct I find hard to repress at the best of times and I've just deliberately exposed myself to a high level toxin."

"Deliberately?" asked Remus. "What's happened?"

Severus sighed. "I knew they would try to kill me, but I wasn't sure when. They're planning a terrible strike against our side. They are, however, also plotting against their Lord and that's what matters at the moment. I needed a hold against them to make them work my way, and my attempted murder is as good as anything."

"I see," said Remus. "Are you going to be all right?"

"In a minute or two," Severus said, downing the glass Philomena had poured for him. "It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't put it in the wine. Sadistic little beast he is. He would have me die while enjoying a glass of 1884 Cadmia."

"You knew it was poisoned and you drank it?" said Philomena. "Are you mad?"

"Yes, and yes," said Snape sardonically. "Speaking of which, I simply must send an Owl to Dumbledore before he tries to put my will in order."

Remus blanched. "You seriously thought there was a possibility of dying and you didn't...?"

Severus gave a halfhearted exasperated glare. "There is always a possibility of dying in my line of work."

"Yes, but -" protested Philomena.

"I'd think you'd be better acquainted with the concept of heroic self-sacrifice," snarled Snape.

"Gryffindors, while reckless with their own lives, rarely understand the same inclination in others," said Remus.

"I am not a Gryffindor," protested Philomena. "I never went to the school."

"She wouldn't be a Gryffindor," said Snape. "She's too good an actress."

"A good actress?" asked Philomena, flattered. "Whatever makes you say that?"

"You pretended to be twelve for several years," said Severus, and to bring his point home, he put on a falsetto impression of her voice before she'd aged, saying, "Is magic really hard? It had to be really hard if Uncle Ralf couldn't do it."

Neither Remus nor Philomena could stop themselves from bursting out into hysterical laugher at his impersonation.

"Of course," Snape went on in his normal voice, "one could tell you weren't twelve just because you were acting like six."

"You were listening that night," said Remus, realizing that Severus would have to have eavesdropped to know of the conversation he'd quoted.

"Of course I was," said Snape simply. "Do you think I had time to listen to that idiotic Muggle's theories about what the girl was?"

Remus frowned. "What did he say?"

Snape shrugged. "He apparently realized she hadn't aged, and remained seemingly the same as far as intelligence was concerned."

"I hated having to look stupid," Philomena interrupted.

"Gordon apparently came to the conclusion that you were part of a cloning project," finished Snape.

"Cloning?" asked Remus. "Isn't that that Muggle thing where they make copies of you?"

"They haven't quite managed it yet, thank goodness," said Snape. "But yes, that's what the man thought. Tried to convince me that she wasn't really her, just copy number six or so, and that Ralf had to hide her before the authorities found out."

"You knew all that and you didn't tell me?" demanded Remus.

"Really, Lupin, think about it," said Snape. "I had no idea whether they were simply insane ramblings or actually had some relevance. She had also apparently been given birth to by a wolf; it was conceivable that she'd aged abnormally. I simply thought it wasn't worth the bother of telling you before I had more information."

"My childhood was normal aside form Ralf's magical interference," snapped Philomena. "What did you think? That I was born a puppy or something?"

"Shut up," mumbled Remus almost inaudibly, rubbing a hand over his face.

"At least Uncle Igor had the sense to ask when he was bothered by something," Philomena went on. "I may be slightly abnormal, but... that's the stupidest idea I've ever heard."

"All that aside," said Remus quickly, "are you in need of more Malacia, Severus? Should I make tea?"

"Father thinks problems should be solved with tea or chocolate," said Philomena ruefully. "Never seen him try with Potions before."

"Your father is completely inept with Potions," said Snape mildly. "It's one of his many defects."

"Yours being your inability to inform people of valuable information," said Remus. "Honestly, if I'd known sooner that her age was off -"

"If you'd been better at simple maths," interrupted Snape.

"If I'd known sooner," repeated Remus, "I'd have tried to fix it sooner, and..."

"Oh stop it the both of you," snapped Philomena. "You're behaving like schoolboys."

"How many schoolboys have you actually met?" asked Snape.

Philomena went brick red. "Shut up," she snapped, whirling to leave the room. "I'm going to make tea."

Remus smothered his laughter until she was out of hearing range.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "She takes after you."

Remus shook his head, "And my mother - a very bad combination."

Severus grimaced and lurched forward. Remus immediately refilled his glass and handed it to him. The other man grabbed it and clutched it for a moment, taking a racking breath before gulping it down.

"Are you all right?"

"Will you stop asking that?" Severus said vehemently. He held his glass loosely over the arm of the chair, while massaging his temple with his free hand. "I've been poisoned - of course I'm not all right. Damn him!"

"Malfoy?" asked Remus.

"Igor!" snapped Snape. "He can't even brew a decent antidote."

"Igor who?" asked Remus.

"Your ... brother in law," said Severus. "Her uncle. Karkaroff."

Remus sat down. "Karkaroff? But he's dead."

"If you believe everything the Dark Lord tells you, Lupin..."

"You told us that," protested Remus.

"I told you that the Dark Lord told me that," corrected Snape. "He lied."

"You could have said so," said Remus.

"That would require me actually knowing it," explained Snape. "I didn't until a short while ago. Telling anybody now would be terribly unwise, considering his current position. He'd be found killed tomorrow if the Dark Lord so much as suspected."

"If he hasn't killed him yet, then why...?"

"Because it would prove he'd deliberately lied to hide his failure," answered Severus, "and if there's anything the Dark Lord hates it's being made a fool of."

"Her uncle is Igor Karkaroff?" Remus asked, apparently not able to wrap his mind about the idea. "The Headmaster of Durmstrang? The Death Eater?"

"Former on both counts," said Snape almost lazily. "Yes, that's precisely what I mean."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Severus sighed. "You seem to ask that often."

"Because you don't seem to answer that often," countered Remus.

"He said he'd write you a letter. I assumed you would have received one by now," said Snape. "I've been rather busy trying not to die lately; it slipped my mind."

"Sorry," said Remus sheepishly. "I think I tend to think of you as some sort of omnipotent being who manages to get everything done without the slightest of effort. I mean, no offence, but you teach, you spy, you brew, and you still somehow manage to have time to help a Werewolf hide his transgressions."

"I haven't a very large social calendar to get in the way," sighed Snape.

"I have finished the book you've lent me," said Remus, changing the subject quickly, "It's helped quite a bit. It's a bit odd, doing it backwards, but it seems to work."

"Backwards?"

"What defenses the book detailed were intended to block an attack from without," said Remus. "It's backwards trying to prevent something within from escaping."

"Mental walls - a sort of cage, as it were?" asked Snape.

Remus nodded.

"Does she fight it?" asked Snape.

"She's sulking," replied Remus resignedly. "She fought for the better part of Halloween. She's tired."

"Not bad," Snape grudgingly allowed. "You might be a better teacher for Potter than I am."

"Your lessons are continuing, then?" asked Remus.

Snape crushed the desire to grin. "Yes, he's been progressing slowly," he said. "You might want to have a chat with him, though. I do believe he is in need of a bit of paternal advice and I'm not the one to give it to him."

"Paternal advice?" asked Remus, nonplussed.

"He doesn't want to kill Voldemort," explained Snape. "While he seems to accept that it is necessary, his reluctance is detrimental. He will never succeed if he doesn't want to. He needs to come to peace with the idea and with his conscience. I can't do it, and Dumbledore won't."

Remus was stunned. "You think I'd be able to get him to ... accept his destiny?"

"Not his destiny, but his duty," said Snape. "I don't believe in destiny."

"But the Prophesy," protested Remus.

"Only works because it was acted upon," returned Snape. "Because the Dark Lord believes in it."

Remus sighed. "I ... am in contact with the boy," he said. "We write. I've been working more on trying to convince him that Sirius' death wasn't completely his fault. I never thought of... I hadn't considered..."

"You hadn't considered that what he's expected to do might not be what he wants to do," finished Snape. "Think of it this way, if you were told you had no choice but to kill somebody, how would you feel?"

"If I was told?" repeated Remus weakly. "I am. Monthly."

"No, you become capable of killing monthly," snapped Snape. "And monthly, the monster within you wants to kill. Think of what it would be like if you were asked to kill another human, with your present mind and form, in cold blood. How would you feel?"

"Unwell," said Remus shortly.

"That's a flippant answer for you," said Snape. "Don't you understand? He feels guilty about it. He doesn't want to be a killer. Frankly, that's the one emotion of his I find myself able to understand."

"I'll try," said Remus. "I thought that he'd been spoken to. Dumbledore said everything had been explained."

"Explained yes," said Severus, "but not made palatable."

Remus sighed. "I don't know at times whether he needs a hug and protection from everything or simply a shove in the right direction."

"How callous of you," commented Snape, raising an eyebrow.

Remus looked at his hands. "It's horrid of me, I know," he said. "I just can't help but tally everybody who falls, and I find myself constantly wondering if he'll be able to do it, how soon, and how much destruction will happen in between..."

Snape sighed. "It's not always black and white, Lupin," he said. "Yes, it's unfair to the boy to train him as some sort of weapon, but it would be equally unfair to him to shelter him so much as to have him weak when the time comes. What ought to have been done is for him to have been told much earlier. He could have had a choice."

"What sort of choice is there?" asked Remus.

"One to accept the learning he will need or to hide as long as possible," said Snape. "And this choice wasn't given to him, because Dumbledore felt we could not afford for one child to be a trifle selfish. Fortunately, the boy has seen a modicum of sense. As I've said, he's agreed that it's necessary, and he's working towards it."

"He's working towards it," repeated Remus in a dead sort of voice. "Sweet Merlin what have we done to him?"

"His heart isn't in it, though," reminded Snape. "Duty isn't enough to motivate him completely, and the desire for revenge is frankly unhealthy - not to mention that he's quenched that mostly for fear of becoming like that which he fights against."

"I see," said Remus. "I'll ... try and talk to him. I should have come down for Halloween, he wanted me to, but... I'll see him soon. Some weekend or other, I'll find an excuse..."

"Detention?" suggested Snape. "I can very easily send him here."

Remus shook his head. "He's been punished enough as it is," he said. "I'll figure it out."

At this point Philomena returned with the tea. "Did I hear someone mention Uncle Igor?" she asked, setting it on the table.

"Yes," said Severus. "He's the one that brewed my Antidote. Remind me to prevent him from giving you any sort of Potions lesson."

"You still owe me a lesson, daddy dearest," she reminded, serving. "I've never done any practical brewing."

"Your Uncle apparently needs a lesson in how to write letters as well," said Snape. "Not to mention testing before dosing. At least this time I don't need to be reanimated."

"Reanimated?" Remus mumbled in shock. "Was it that bad?"

"Relax, Lupin," dismissed Snape. "That was yesterday. In fact, my Healer will probably kill me for not getting the rest I should."

Severus sipped his tea tentatively. Once he was sure it would stay down, he took a larger swallow. Remus watched him worriedly; afraid that Snape's condition was worse than he admitted.

"You're looking better already," said Philomena. "Are you still dizzy?"

"Not enough to faint," Snape remarked.

"You will tell Uncle Igor to write, won't you?" she asked. "None of my letters ever managed to reach him."

"That would be because he's in hiding," said Snape.

She nodded. "I supposed as much."

"What did he say he wanted of her?" asked Remus carefully.

Snape sighed. "He's worried about her. Has been looking for her for quite some time, ever since Ralf prevented him from taking her. He simply wants to be sure she is safe, to be able to contact her."

Remus nodded. "Can he be reached somehow?"

"Address it to 'The Owner, Knockturn Alley,'" replied Snape. "It will reach him."

"'The Owner,'" repeated Philomena. "That's an odd sort of name."

"His accent is odder," replied Snape. "I ought to have known it was affected."

Finishing his tea, Severus set down his cup, and rose a trifle unsteadily. "Thank you for allowing me to recuperate," he said, "but I really must get back to Hogwarts before Albus thinks the worst. May I use the Floo?"

Remus stood, and led him to the next room. "Here's your book back," he said, handing Snape the Occlumency text. "Thanks again, and good night."

"Good night, Lupin. Philomena." Snape tossed powder into the flames and shouted, "Albus Dumbledore's office," disappearing in a swirl of green.

XXX

When Severus stumbled out onto the hearth, Dumbledore was nowhere in sight. Fawkes trilled from his perch. Severus gave the bird a curt nod before flying to the door, wrenching it open and hurtling down the stairs.

With quick long steps he hurried to the dungeons and his laboratory. The door was ajar, a faint stream of light emerging to throw odd shadows in addition to those of the torches which had flared to life as Snape had entered the corridor.

A feeling that he was being watched stole over him, but he shook it off impatiently.

Drawing his wand in case it was not the Headmaster, but a more unwelcome visitor, he quietly pushed the door open all the way, sensing that his Wards had already been disabled.

Albus Dumbledore sat in one of Severus' straight-backed chairs, reading through the letter Snape had written and rewritten several times.

"I'm not dead yet, Albus," said Severus, reaching over and plucking the parchment out of the man's grasp. "You've a good half hour before I told you to worry."

"Severus! My boy, thank Merlin!" cried Dumbledore, "Your monitor self-destructed, and I assumed the worst."

"If you had a monitor keyed to me I should have been informed," said Snape, wanting to snap but knowing that it would not effect the Headmaster. "As to its self-destructing I believe my multiple near misses might have put a bit of a strain on its workings. Don't bother repairing it."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he peered at Severus over his spectacles. "Hogwarts has a monitor on every student to give alarm incase of accidents, as you know as a Head of House. By Ministry guidelines we are only permitted to leave them activated on former students if they do not object. Of course, those that do not know of them do not object.

"Most are disabled as we have no cause to watch them, but should they become needed they could be reactivated again at any time. There are a certain few I keep in my office, keyed to those people I care for most."

"I dearly hope you don't spend all your time watching gadgets keyed to me and the rest of the Staff," said Severus, refolding the letter, dropping it into the drawer he kept it in. "You'd have time for little else." He slammed the drawer shut.

Dumbledore looked unabashed. "It might interest you to know that besides yourself I monitor the entire Order - and Voldemort."

Snape flinched. "I've asked you, Albus. Not that name when I can hear it."

"Why my dear boy?" asked Dumbledore. "It's only a name."

"And I'm only a man," returned Severus.

"What happened tonight, Severus?" asked Dumbledore. "Let's call the kitchens for a bit of hot chocolate and talk it over."

"No thank you, Albus," said Snape, "my stomach couldn't take it."

"You won't mind if I indulge, though," said Dumbledore. He clapped his hands, and a mug of steaming cocoa appeared before him.

Severus sighed inwardly at Albus' childish tendency to show off. "I went to dinner with Lucius Malfoy, as I told you, and Dolohov," he said. "I'm under an Oath not to reveal what the plans are, as I've told you before, but Lucius is deviating from them to his own gain, as I expected. He tried to kill me tonight. Fortunately, it was the Poison I had an Antidote for, so there were no lasting ill effects.

"I did learn something of interest. Narcissa's note to me is quite likely to be genuine. Lucius mentioned that she was anxious about Draco's impending coming of age, and that she was the sort to kill him for the estate. I think it would be politic to write her, thanking her for the warning. It would be advantageous to have both believe I agree with them."

"Do what you think best, Severus," said Albus, sipping his drink. "About your letter -"

"Forget what was in the letter," interrupted Snape, "until you need it."

Albus held up a hand. "I simply wish to remind you that it would hardly be considered a legal document in the eyes of the Ministry."

"I don't very much care what the Ministry thinks," snapped Severus. "I wrote it for you."

"But they would hardly permit it," said Dumbledore. "I am not ... refusing ... to grant your request in the event - and I dearly hope I shan't have to - but the Ministry could make it impossible for me to carry out your request."

"My family wouldn't claim it," objected Severus. "And legally any 'close friend,' can choose to have the dubious honor of -"

"Severus," interrupted Dumbledore. "I realize all of that, but remember what happened in similar cases during the last war. The ... that is to say they ... The Ministry impounded many as 'evidence,' for use in research, and not even Blood Kin were ruled to have any say."

"You don't mean... those tanks in the Ministry are..." whispered Snape.

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I'm afraid so. But I will do all in my power to -"

Severus swallowed. "Enough. We shan't discuss it."

Dumbledore looked relieved. "As you will," he said.

Severus sighed. "I hope that pun was unintentional."

Albus blinked. "As a matter of fact it was. Quite tasteless, too."

"Again," said Severus, "we shan't discuss it."

Dumbledore looked over his spectacles at Snape. "You're looking a bit under the weather, my boy," he said. "And your Healer did order you to get some rest. Is there nothing else you wish to tell me?"

There were, Severus reasoned to himself, plenty of things he ought to tell the Headmaster. Things he ought to have told him years ago, things he should have mentioned even as a student. None of them, however, were things he would like Albus to know. He would tell no lies. He shook his head. "Nothing else, sir."

"Then get yourself to bed, Severus," said Albus. "You do need rest; you shan't get it in this drafty laboratory. If you require time off from your classes..."

"I have never taken a holiday in my entire tenure here, Headmaster," snapped Snape, "and I don't intend to start now."

"Merely a suggestion," said the Headmaster, getting to his feet. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Albus," replied Severus, seeing the Headmaster out.

Once the door was shut Severus dropped his façade. "I won't let the Ministry have it," he muttered, beginning to pace. "Albus admitted he couldn't... Lupin! Lupin could ... yes. Lupin will have to."

He sank into a chair. "But not yet," he said to himself. "Or he'll find a way to worm out of it... I'll demand it at the last possible moment..."

Resolved to put the matter out of his mind, he rose, and replaced the Wards to his laboratory before starting on his way to his private rooms, deciding he would write to Narcissa before midnight.

He was not planning on finding his quarters occupied.

XXX

Having finally shaken off Dolohov, Malfoy Apparated directly in front of Blood and Bones in Knockturn Alley. Descending the stairs, he reached the Owner's shop, nestled beneath the other. Finding the door locked, he seized the brass knocker and brought it down with a satisfying clang.

While waiting, he carefully arranged his face into a look of righteous anger. After a moment he heard the swing of a latch being undone, the grating noise of a bolt sliding through a rusty catch, and a metallic clang as it slid into place. The door creaked open a fraction of an inch, a black-gloved hand slipped through and beckoned, then disappeared.

Lucius narrowed his eyes, putting one hand to his wand's sheath, then pushed the door just enough for him to slip through sideways, before pushing it shut behind him. Immediately, he was grabbed by the shoulder and shoved to the ground. He barely managed to avoid falling on his face, pushing himself up on his arms.

The bolt slide black into place and the latch shut with a clatter.

Regaining his feet, he turned, but not quite quickly enough.

"Expelliarmus!"

He was about to retaliate with a bodily attack when he caught sight of the triumphant face of his assailant. His breath caught in his throat and he took an involuntary step back. "You?"

XXX

Severus glared down at his nephew, who was nonchalantly sitting in his favorite chair, flipping idly through a book.

"Hubert," Severus hissed, shutting the door and striding forward. "I have expressly forbidden you from coming without good reason."

Hubert looked up from his book with an indulgent smile. "Even if your Monitor hadn't been carrying on, I'd consider stepping in to make sure you were recovering and getting enough rest good enough reason."

"You should have written in advance," said Snape. "I generally attack unexpected guests."

"I'm sorry about the other day," said Hubert. "I went ahead and told your employer all sorts of crazy things. I hope he didn't cause you trouble."

Snape gave a grimace and shook his head.

"And I'm sorry about getting you sucked into the left-debt loop," said Hubert. "How was I to know?"

"You are forgiven," snapped Severus, falling the other chair. "I prefer being indebted to being dead, though that state isn't likely to last very long."

"Don't be such a pessimist," said Hubert mildly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by the Knight Bus," said Snape. "I was poisoned tonight."

Hubert's lips twitched in an almost fishlike way as he thought. "I thought you might have been," he said. "The readings showed a profound disturbance, followed by a rebalancing. That must have been the poison, and then the antidote canceling the effect of it. Though there seems to be a certain residual abnormality I haven't been able to place."

"The fool decided to serve it to me in a glass of wine," said Snape. "The alcohol threw off several factors. Otherwise, it should have stabilized."

"It has," said Hubert, "but you need a good deal of rest. Stable doesn't necessarily mean hale and hearty."

Severus gave a wry smile of acknowledgement before asking, "Your studies are going well I hope?"

Hubert nodded. "I did look into that detonator project as well - I think I've found a way to trigger the Energy from a good distance. You would have to cast the Spell in advance, and have it frozen immediately per Stasis Spell. Any Spell using Giconic Energy can then trigger it, no matter the distance away, so long as it is cast with Intent, by the same Wand."

"You must show me your calculations before we do any tests," said Severus. "This could be of great use in the war."

"Could have a number of uses other than a Magical explosive," said Hubert. "For instance, if somebody had one of those OmniHeal Spells you've told me about cast on them, that was set into Stasis, their Healer could activate it immediately upon hearing the Monitor's alarm. Precious time could be saved, minutes normally taken up by their traveling to the scene of the accident."

Snape nodded. "We must look into every possible application, though no doubt, should it become common, it will only promote laziness."

"Oh, to be sure, but you could also use it for a number of insidious things," said Hubert. "Some Hex on an enemy, just waiting for activation. They'd never be able to determine who had done it. You'd have a concrete alibi, and your signature from the original Spell would be long dissipated."

Snape nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I can see it. If Bill Weasley only knew what he'd inspired. Had he not told that story about detonators in Egypt then I -"

A rap at the door interrupted them.

Severus got to his feet. "Sweet spirits of camphor," he snarled. "If that's a student they'll be in Detention until Christmas."

XXX

Lucius blinked in confusion. "Fortescue?"

Florean nodded, leaning against the door, dangling Lucius' wand in one long fingered hand. "Me."

"What the devil! You - "

"Be quiet," snapped Florean, "and listen to me. Or your wand might just ... snap in my fingers - ever so accidentally."

Lucius' eyes flashed in anger. "What do you want?"

"To tell you a story," said Florean. "A story about beautiful woman, ice cream, and poison."

"I do not take kindly to being attacked and told fairy tales," snapped Lucius.

"I'm sure you will in a moment," said Florean lazily. "You see, the woman's name is Narcissa."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "My wife?"

"Do you know any other tall blond voluptuous women named Narcissa with a sweet tooth and no scruples?" asked Florean. "She enjoys a good desert as much as anybody. And so does her friend."

"Do you mean to insinuate that -"

"Of course not," Florean smiled. "I'm simply trying to let you know that if you poison her friends, and attempt to get her relatives murdered, she might just let her hand ... slip ... right over your morning tea."

"Poison her friends?" asked Lucius. "What are you -"

"Professor Snape has many friends," said Florean. "Friends that talk to your wife in crowded ice cream parlors about how best to avenge him should you actually carry out your plan."

"You're lying."

"I wish I were, for your sake," said Florean.

"What do you want?" asked Lucius.

Florean shrugged. "Take it as you will. A warning that those you target are watching and waiting for you to make a mistake."

He reached behind his back and unlatched the door, sliding the bolt open. "Good night, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius' wand dropped from Florean's fingers and rolled towards him as the door fell shut. Grabbing it, Lucius wrenched the door back opened, ready to thoroughly Curse the man, only to be faced with the pop of Apparition and a rush of displaced air.

A slight cough sounded from inside the shop, and Lucius whirled round. The Owner was leaning on one of the shelves. "Please, Mr. Malfoy," he drawled. "You canna drive away ma customers."

Lucius turned, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Apparently," he said, "You 'canna' make a proper Poison either."

XXX

Severus opened the door to find the corridor empty, hearing quick footsteps disappearing around the corner. A basket sat on his doorstep. Casting a quick Charm, Severus was sure it contained no active Spells other than one to reduce weight of an object. He took the basket and returned to his rooms.

Placing it on the table, he lifted the cover. Inside there was a scroll, and a steaming tureen. Shaking the letter open, he read:

Dear Professor Snape,

You were not at dinner and we heard you were ill. Please accept this as a token of our sympathy, and regain your health before the Headmaster replaces you with someone worse.

Be Well.

He passed the note to his nephew while Wandlessly testing the contents of the tureen for any hidden Potion, Hex or Poison. Nothing.

"Odd," he said softly. "Some member of the student body, who -"

" Appreciates your brilliance," interrupted Hubert.

" - wants to bribe me," finished Snape.