Chapter 1
Unexpected Meeting
The dark hooded figure of a man made his way down the abandoned street late that night. The only sound to be heard was that of tiny raindrops hitting the tin roofs of the nearby houses. Not even his footsteps could be heard as he walked to carefully for that. With a cautious glance around the deserted street he turned and approached what seemed to be a vacant lot between the houses of 11 and 13. To anyone who passed by this would simply seem to be of little relevance, but to himself and every other member of the secret congregation that met there this place was gravely important. After another quick look around he proceeded to reach out for the nonexistent doorknob which magically appeared within his grasp moments later. He hurried to open the large door and stepped inside, closing it before anyone saw, making no sound as he did so. There had to be complete silence in the part of the old house, for upon the wall, hung a portrait of a foul woman. Sirius Blacks mother to be exact. The woman was not fond of her home being used as a hidden headquarters for those who opposed the dark lord and his followers. Though she had not served him, she believed in that which he was trying to accomplish with his acts of murder and torment.
After securing the door behind him he stepped forward and removed his robe, shaking it slightly to rid it of the few droplets that had collected upon it. He traversed through the long hallway towards the kitchen where those who stayed here could normally be found. A chill flowed through his body as he passed by the many doors lining the corridor. It was odd to be in the house of a dead man, but not just any man, one he had hated with a great passion. He had despised entering the place when he was alive and now he found it to be even less appealing to him.
The few months that had followed the death of Sirius Black had been hard on everyone who knew the man. But none had been affected by this as badly as the children that associated with him. And, of those, none felt the loss as gravely as Harry Potter or, at least, it seemed that way. He hadn't been to worried about concerning himself with the suffering of the students, finding that to be the responsibility of their families and friends. Severus Snape found himself to fit into neither of those categories with any of the people who resided in the order. He was an associate, a messenger, and sometimes considered himself to be the only sane one left in the place. The others, of course, knew what they were doing, but weren't always intelligent in their actions. Emotions seemed to cloud their judgment in several dangerous situations which could result in total disaster. Perhaps it was the fact that Severus never really knew any other emotion than that of pure hatred and loathing that caused him to find the actions of grieving to be a pointless waste of time as well as energy.
As he made his way towards the kitchen he noticed that the house seemed to be quite empty which was rather odd. There were normally at least 5 random witches and wizards scurrying about doing things for the order. But today, for some reason, there was no one in the house but him he assumed. He had been sent to deliver a message and there was no one around to receive it. A slight frown crept upon his lips as he pushed the wooden door open and entered the small, dimly lit eating area. He had been sure he would find Molly there, or Remus even. He quickly scanned the room searching for a note or anything that might indicate there whereabouts of anyone who should have been there, but found nothing. After making absolutely sure there was nothing there he left the small room and headed up the slightly decaying staircase. One of them could be resting,. After all, working for the order was quite straining work sometimes. After checking every room that was suitable to live in, and finding nothing, he finally sat down to rest on one of the beds that occupied the last room he looked in.
He hated it! He had to get away, run away, fly away, or just vanish into a dark hole somewhere that no one could ever find him and make him return. Too many people, too much work, too much tension and frustration for him to handle. He sat in his room alone planning his action of escape. He had to think of a place he could stay where no one would ever think to look, but it had to be safe at the same time. He could just hold out until the start of term, but, no, he had to get out right now. Half the time he was ignored or forgotten and the other half he was being ordered around by one of the many people who occupied his house. He could stand for it no longer. Yes, Ron Weasley, had to escape.
The sun had begun to set as he was shoving the last of the clothes he had chosen to take with him into the small bag. He didn't want to carry too much on his broom because he wasn't quite that skilled. He checked one last time to be sure he had everything he needed before sneaking down the stairs and out the front door. If his mother caught him he would probably never know the pleasure of breathing again, but he had to go. The night air swept around him and he shivered slightly, not because it was cold, I mean it was July, but because he felt he was getting away with something he knew was wrong. And that it was completely wrong in every possible way. He could never make up a decent excuse to get himself out of this one. He walked half way down the never-ending drive then mounted his broom, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He lifted off and hovered above his house for a moment and sighed. 'No turning back now' he thought to himself before taking off towards London. He flew high enough so no on could spot him from the ground. And low enough not to interfere with air traffic.
He was sweat covered when he arrived at about 11 P.M. that night. He quickly stripped his shirt off and walked up to where the door should be. After standing there for a few minutes the knob appeared, then soon the rest of the wooden entrance. He quickly pushed it open and stepped inside locking it behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief knowing he had made it without being seen. He leaned back against the heavy door for a moment taking in the fact that he was now free for awhile. They would come looking for him of course, he had no doubt about that, but for now he was free. He let out a small laugh, keeping it rather quiet, as he didn't want a certain portrait to hear him. He took a deep breath then headed up the steps towards the room he had spent most of the last summer in, a room that seemed to be more home-like than his own. He topped the stairs and turned down the hall towards what would be 'his' room for at least tonight if not longer. He reached out and pushed the door open then froze the moment his eyes fell on the figure sitting on his bed. "Who the bloody hell are you?" He was almost as surprised by what he said as the other person in the room was.