Albus was right. He did not sleep that night. He spent most of it seated on the bed, looking out the window. The light snow sputtered to the ground and was soon washed away by the drizzle that replaced it. He hid the pictures in a drawer by the bed.

It was early when there was a curt knock on the door. A young woman in nurse's whites handed him a change of clothes, some soap, a sandwich and left without speaking to him. She was curvy but her squarish, bland uniform tried very hard to cover that fact. Her dark hair was pinned back, but in a way that only partly tried to hide the appeal of the long waves. He recognized her as a girl three or four years years ahead of him at school that many of the boys had thought very pretty.

Severus washed his face in the sink in the room, changed his clothes, and threw the food out the window. He waited again. The morning tried to brighten but the fine rain continued unenthusiastically. Without being aware he did so, Severus closed his eyes.

He woke, sweating, propped against the headboard of the bed. He saw his pile of dirty clothes under the sink and remembered where he was. The sound of knocking filled the room completely. He remembered the pictures in drawer, the red haired girl who was now being prepared to be buried with her husband. Several hours had passed. A shaky sunlight fell through the window. He answered the door and this time, Albus had returned.

"Headmaster."

"Severus. Please, follow me."

He nodded and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him. They retraced their steps from the night before and arrived again at the door to Albus's study. They stopped and the headmaster turned to him.

"Are you prepared for a meeting, Severus?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are you prepared to tell again now what you told me last night? The audience will be, I think, a bit less forgiving."

"Yes, Headmaster."

Albus opened the door. It was a small group that waited; all four had been his professors only a few years before. Before each was a glass of tea that had gone cold. He saw the discomfort upon his entrance. Raised eyebrows lowered as Albus looked around the room. Severus looked down at his shoes as he was led to his seat.

"He is safe," said Albus to the group.

The four others nodded. Only Severus was motionless, confused.

"Harry is with his aunt and uncle. Albus and I, and Hagrid of course, witnessed his safe arrival," said a woman sitting near the headmaster. She was middle aged, but for her severe bun and glasses, she would have appeared younger than she was.

"Can you tell us, Albus, what happened?" asked another, a thickset man who wore his frown with discomfort as though he was unused to be presented with scenarios not to his liking. He shifted the most of the assembled, as though wearing something itchy. He rubbed his red eyes like a child ready for a nap.

"I cannot," the headmaster answered. "Not fully, anyway. Not, you understand, because I don't want to share, but because I still have very much left to comprehend myself."

"But do you think it's over?"

Albus waited before answering. The room seemed to have frozen while he contemplated what to say.

"We still have a lot of work to do."

"But he's gone. Yes?"

"He has disappeared. That's all we can say for sure."

Severus's eyes drifted down to the table while several other questions were asked about the dead young man and woman and their son. He saw Minerva's hand reach to her jacket pocket where she produced a plain handkerchief. He didn't need to see her dab her eyes with it to know that she had begun crying. They talked a lot about this boy, Lily's son. He had heard, of course, that Lily was a mother. He listened to them talk and drifted into thoughts of her. He liked to imagine her as a mother, but when he did, James was always there, kissing her cheeks, picking up the baby, laughing, laughing, smiling. He was there, ruffling the black hair of the baby, napping in their bed with her head on his chest while the baby slept next to them in his crib. He tried to pull James from the pictures in his mind, but he refused to leave. When the room had been quiet for several seconds, Severus raised his eyes to see that everyone was looking at him.

"We have come to the issue at hand, I see," said Albus. He turned in his chair to face Severus.

"Please, begin."

"Begin?"

"Yes, Severus. Please tell us why you are here."

He saw that everyone had followed Albus's lead and was facing him now.

"I'm- I'm done. I'm finished," he said. All the face's but the headmaster's tensed. He wanted to be sick, but luckily had not eaten anything for more than twenty-four hours.

"So, it's true then?" asked Horace. "You worked for him."

"Yes. But no more. I can't bare it. "

He did not know then that Albus was to ask of him something quite different.