DISCLAIMER
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

16 January

"Wormtail." Voldemort's voice was smooth like velvet when Peter stepped inside the cell that had previously housed Mandy. There were dried patches of blood around the chair in the middle of the room. The ropes that had tied her to it were lying in a heap on the floor. The Dark Lord's eyes were closed in contentment. "What can I do for you?"

Peter gulped, looking around the cell with nervous, darting eyes. "W-why did you hurt Mandy like that?"

Voldemort opened one eye, glancing at Peter. "I? I did nothing. What happened to your friend was all Bellatrix' work. You know that."

"B-but didn't you order it to happen?" Peter asked. "I-I mean...Bellatrix w-wouldn't dare to do anything w-without your permission, my Lord? Right?"

"That is true." The Dark Lord opened his eyes fully and turned to look at Peter. "Tell me, Peter, who am I?"

Confused, Peter answered: "Y-you are the Dark Lord, master."

"Yes. I am. How, exactly, do you think I came by that title? By serving my prisoners tea and crumpets?"

Peter flinched. "O-of course not, my Lord. But...y-you promised you wouldn't hurt my friends. W-when I joined you. A-and when I asked, y-you promised you wouldn't hurt her."

"Did I?" Voldemort asked, bored. "My memory must be faulty, for I simply cannot recall any such promise. I said you wouldn't be forced to hurt them – and I said if they attacked me, I would strike back."

"But Mandy did nothing to you!"

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "She is a mudblood! And she was there, in Hogsmeade, fighting with the Order. I've killed people for less."

"But she doesn't remember anything!" Peter exclaimed.

"She's alive, is she not?" The Dark Lord said shortly. "I never promised not to hurt her – I promised not to kill her. And I didn't. I suggest you take what you can get, Wormtail: my patience is not limitless. This cell is currently lacking an occupant, but it can easily be filled again." The look Voldemort gave Peter spoke volumes and the marauder gulped.

"B-but – "

" – CRUCIO!"

Peter fell to the dirty cell-floor, screaming. Was this what Mandy had felt?

"I have been very lenient with you so far, Pettigrew, because I've seen your potential. But you have not yet proved yourself to my satisfaction. If you continue with this insolence, you'll find that you are very expendable. A defiant servant is nothing to me and you've crossed several lines already."

Peter continued to scream as the Cruciatus curse travelled through his body, attacking his nerves, and making him lose control of his bladder. Finally, the pain subsided when the Dark Lord lifted the curse, his lips curled in disgust.

"I recruited you for a reason, Pettigrew," Voldemort said, voice low and dangerous. "And it is best for you if you begin to live up to my expectations, or a round of 'Crucio' will be the least of your worries."

He left the cell, leaving Peter curled up on the floor, sobbing in pain and humiliation. This was not what he had imagined when he joined the Dark Lord: he had thought he'd be someone worthy of notice, someone with power that people would look up to. He had though the Dark Lord would value him and his opinion the way his friends didn't. Now, however, he realised how wrong he'd been. He was not better off, not at all.

Still sobbing, Peter got to his feet on trembling legs, pants wet with his own urine. From now on, he would keep his head down and do whatever the Dark Lord asked, without any questions. He would be unfailingly loyal. He would make himself worthy of trust, show him how responsible and how indispensable he could really be. Perhaps, then, he would finally get the respect and honour he deserved.

And if not...well, if not, he would still be loyal. All the Death Eaters had heard what had happened to Regulus Black when he crossed the Dark Lord, and he'd been one of his favourites. Imagine, then, what he'd do to someone like him. No, Peter wasn't stupid, but he was afraid: if he so much as thought of betrayal, he was certain the Dark Lord would know. It was far too late for regrets. He had joined the Dark Lord, and with the Dark Lord he would stay. To do anything else would be suicide.

19 January

"Lily?" James knocked on the bedroom door. "Are you done in there? We're supposed to be at Buffy's in, say..." he glanced at his wristwatch theatrically, even though Lily couldn't see him, "...oh, would you look at that! We're late! We were supposed to be there fifteen minutes ago."

"Just give me a second." Lily's voice sounded muffled through the wooden door.

James sighed. "What's taking you so long anyway? Aren't you supposed to be miss punctuality?"

"Not today."

"Women," James mouthed to himself. "I'm coming in!"

He twisted the handle, ignoring Lily's voice of protested "No, don't!" and stepped inside, his jaw falling when he saw Lily standing, dressed in only bra and panties, in front of the full length mirror.

"You're not even dressed!"

Lily threw him a half-hearted glare. "I noticed. I can't decide what to wear."

James pinched his nose. Women, indeed. Some of the stories about wardrobe disasters told from Remus about Buffy, and Sirius about Mandy (he inwardly winched), had made him shiver. That Lily wasn't like those two when it came to clothes was something James never failed to be smug about, to Remus and Sirius' annoyance. But it looked like he'd been wrong.

"What's wrong with this one?" He held up a green dress that had been carelessly discarded on the bedroom floor, along with, he noted, four pair of pants, two skirts and what seemed to be an endless supply of various tops and sweaters.

Lily almost hissed at him. "Put it away! It doesn't fit right."

James' scrunched up his eyebrows even as an evil feeling of foreboding began to rise in his chest. "Doesn't...fit right?" He asked slowly, wishing he had never stepped in to the room, which was beginning to feel like a minefield about to explode at anytime. "And the other clothes? Don't they fit right either?"

The look Lily threw him spoke more than a thousand words. James coughed uncomfortably. "Well, some of them must, right? I mean, it's not like you've become fat overnight."

Lily's lips began to tremble and James flinched. "But I am," Lily whispered. "I'm fat, James. Look at me!"

James looked her up and down, not seeing a problem. "I'm looking. You're beautiful. What am I supposed to see?"

Lily stomped her foot. "Look. At. Me." She repeated slowly, gesturing down at her stomach. James squinted his eyes at her waist. And then, he saw it. The slight swell of her stomach, her abdomen sticking out slightly. Her waistline wasn't quite as pronounced as before.

James' eyebrows rose. "You're showing." He was aware that he was probably wearing a stupid, silly little grin on his face right now, but he didn't care. Lily was showing. Really showing – he wasn't just able to feel the small bulge anymore, he could actually see it. A baby... Their baby was really in there!

Unfortunately, Lily took his smile the wrong way, and the next second, James was hit in the face with a skirt. "It's not funny!" The red-head hissed, irate.

"I'm not laughing!" James yelped, pulling the skirt off. "Lils...honestly, you're pregnant. And you're not showing that much. There is no way you've outgrown all of these clothes overnight, pregnant or not."

Lily sighed, all the fight going out of her. "Coming into them is not the problem. They fit okay. I just...I've gotten accustomed to looking a certain way while I'm in them, and I don't anymore!" She picked up the green dress from the floor. "This, for example, is one of my favourites. I know I look good in it. But when I put it on tonight... I just looked strange, because there's a bump here – " she pointed at her waist with an annoyed glare, "that wasn't there before. I look bloated."

"Lils..." James walked forward and put her arm around her. "Don't blow up now, alright, but I think that's only in your mind. No one else will notice, I swear. It took me ages to notice, and you're in nothing but your underwear."

"Well, you're not exactly the sharpest quill in the box, are you?" Lily muttered, sniffing slightly. "It's awful, James!" She exclaimed. "I throw up all the time, and my breasts hurt, and I think they're bigger – " James flushed slightly. "And I'm tired and moody and I constantly need to pee!"

"Lils..." James tried not to laugh, he really did, but a chuckle still escaped him. "You knew that would happen."

"It doesn't make it easier," Lily muttered, but without bite. She nibbled on her lip uncertainly. "Are you sure it's not noticeable?"

"I'm sure," James promised.

Lily smiled weakly. "I'm being pretty stupid, aren't I?"

James wisely kept his mouth shut, and just hugged her.

"Happy birthday," Lily greeted, giving Buffy a hug as the Slayer opened the door to hers and Remus' cottage.

Buffy smiled weakly. "Thanks. Though I'm not sure what's so happy about it. You look great though."

Lily, having finally decided on a rather loose, beige tunic, practically beamed at the Slayer and inwardly, James exhaled a loud sigh of relief as they stepped inside. "Has Padfoot showed up?" He asked and Buffy shook her head while leading the two Potters into the living room.

"No. And to be honest, I don't expect him to."

"He's got to come out from his apartment sometime, right?" Lily asked logically. "Hi, Remus! Hi, Peter!"

"Hi," the two marauders greeted from their place by the living room table, playing cards.

"Do you think we should head over to his place?" Peter asked, biting his lip in question.

"I think what Sirius needs right now is some time and space," James said firmly. "He'll come out when he's ready."

"I don't know, Prongs," Remus shook his head. "If we leave it up to him, I don't think he'll ever be ready. He'll bury himself in grief."

James slumped down in a chair beside him, Buffy and Lily taking the two chairs opposite. "True enough," he muttered.

"We haven't seen him since Mandy left England and that was a week ago. Maybe we should go over there later - just to check up on him?" Lily said. "What are we playing?"

Remus was shuffling the cards, his and Peter's game of War finished, with Remus emerging as the winner. "Whatever you want, I guess. As for visiting Sirius...I'm pretty certain I'm the last person he'd want to see at the moment."

"Go fish?" Peter suggested from his place at the head of the table. "And Sirius can't stay mad at you forever, Moony. He must realise what happened to Mandy isn't your fault, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

"Well, logic has never been Sirius' strong suit," Buffy pointed out. "And right now, I imagine he's too stuck in mourning to think straight."

"But think of it this way: a visit from Remus is probably going to make him so mad it just might snap him out of it," James said, falsely cheerful.

"Oh, great, throw me to the wolves, why don't you?" Remus muttered while dealing out the cards. "Or the dogs. Dog. Whatever. Anyway, I don't think a visit from me is going to help. Unless he kills me during it." He cocked his head. "That might actually make him feel better."

"No one is killing you," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "Lily, have you got any threes?"

"Go fish," the red-head answered. "James, any aces?"

Cursing, James threw his wife two cards. "How did you know that?"

Lily shrugged. "Intuition? Remus, any aces?"

Remus' shoulders slumped, throwing Lily a card, and the red-head grinned victoriously, putting down all four aces on the table.

"You have one book already?" Peter moaned.

"Buffy, any twos?"

"Go fish," Buffy answered.

An hour later, and two games of 'Go Fish' (Lily winning both times), the five friends were extremely tired of the game. "I can't believe we're playing 'Go fish' on my birthday," Buffy muttered. "That's not just depressing – it's downright sad."

"Well, perhaps it's time for cake, then? Or opening your gifts?" Remus suggested and Buffy shrugged.

"I guess. It's just that celebrating my birthday right now feel wrong. Celebrating anything feels wrong."

"But we can't stop living either," James said, looking around his friends. "We can't allow ourselves to fall into depression."

Lily raised her glass of butterbeer. "To Mandy," she said solemnly. "One of the kindest people I've ever met."

"One of the most beautiful – inside and out," Buffy said lifting her glass.

"And one of the most intelligent," Peter nodded, raising his own.

"One of the most open-hearted and open-minded," James said as his own tribute to the brilliant Ravenclaw, holding up his glass and knocking it against the other three's.

"And even if we are not a part of her memory," Remus said after a moment's thought. "Let her always be a part of ours."

"And hope that someday, she'll remember us, and return," Buffy finished quietly after their toast, wishing more than ever there was no need for one.

"Amen," James muttered.

30 January

"Are you sure about this?" James asked hesitantly. "Maybe we should leave Sirius alone."

Lily, dressed in one of James' shirts which was so large on her it easily hid the swell of her stomach, threw her husband a glare. "He can't mope around forever. And if he dares to not be happy about this, I will kick his arse."

James sighed. While he hoped Lily was right – that telling Sirius about the pregnancy would cheer him up – he was also scared it would backfire on them. He knew Sirius, and knew how stubborn he could be about things. He had always had a rather unpredictable temper, and usually, time was the only thing that could get him to calm down.

Resolutely, Lily knocked on the door to Sirius' apartment. "Sirius! Sirius!" She shouted. "I know you're in there! It's me, Lily! And James! Let us in! We're not leaving until you open this door!"

The door flew open and Sirius stood there, eyes bloodshot and his breath smelling strongly of alcohol. "I've opened. Now leave," he said, moving to slam the door shut, but Lily's foot was in the way.

"I don't think so," the red-head said, forcing her way past Sirius and into the flat. James threw him an apologetic look, and then followed. He coughed as he looked around the room in disbelief. Empty and half-drunken bottles were everywhere, along with half-eaten plates with food. "Alright, the alcohol has got to go," Lily said, and began to banish the bottles – uncaring of their contents. "James, you'll do the dishes."

Sirius stared at them both in disbelief. "You can't just crash my apartment and start messing about with my stuff!"

"This 'stuff' as you call it is going to make you sick," James said. "Sorry, Pads, but this place is a mess. And so are you."

"I'm fine," Sirius said through gritted teeth.

James looked him up and down with an eyebrow raised in doubt, from his bare feet to his boxers and unwashed t-shirt, unshaven face and limp hair. "I can see that," he said, with a sarcastic snort. "Merlin, Padfoot, I get that you're upset, but you can't go on like this."

Sirius glared. "I'll be in my bed. When you get tired of cleaning, feel free to leave." He moved towards the bedroom, but was stopped by Lily, her wand outstretch and pointing at him.

"No," Lily said sternly. "You are going nowhere except the bathroom. And don't come out until after you've showered, shaved and changed clothes."

Sirius laughed hollowly. "You can't boss me around, Lily."

Lily only tapped a foot impatiently, and Sirius rolled his eyes, before trying to move around her. A stinging charm quickly made him change his mind. "BATHROOM!" Lily repeated. Half-snarling, Sirius did as she said. Once the bathroom-door closed behind him, Lily's firm expression fell and she threw James a helpless look. "What are we going to do?" She asked.

"What we are doing," James said grimly. "After that... I don't know, Lils. The only one who can do anything is Sirius himself."

Lily sighed.

An exhausting hour later, Lily and James were finally done cleaning Sirius' apartment. James threw Lily a worried look when he saw the utter exhaustion on her face. "You look a bit ill. Maybe you should sit down."

Lily smiled weakly at him. "I've just got a headache. And I'm a bit dizzy."

"I repeat – maybe you should sit down," James said. "I'll check on Sirius."

Lily nodded, sinking down in the sofa gratefully, while James entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. His shoulders slumped at the sight: Sirius was sitting on the toilet-lid, clearly having made no move to do any of the things Lily told him to.

"Pads…" James sank down to the floor, back against the door. "Come on, mate."

Sirius threw him a hopeless look. "Why?" He asked hoarsely. "What's the point? Mandy is - " His voice broke.

"I know," James muttered. "She was my friend too."

"I expect her to be on the other side of the bed when I wake up, you know?" Sirius whispered. "But she's not."

James bit his lip. "Do you want me and Lily to leave? You're right: we shouldn't have come crashing in like this - it was rude."

Sirius snorted. "Since when have the marauders ever cared about manners?"

"Point," James cocked his head to the side. "So, how about that shower and shave, huh? For Lily's sake? I think she near had a heart-attack when she saw you: she's never seen you any less then perfectly groomed."

Sirius shook his head. "I'll do it later. Maybe."

Knowing that was the best he was going to get right now, James only nodded. "Alright. How about some tea then?"

"Fine," Sirius agreed, rising to his feet.

A few minutes later, the three friends were sitting around the table, hot cups of tea in front of them, but none of them making a move to drink.

"Umm...James and I have some news," Lily said hesitantly, glancing up at Sirius.

"Yeah?" Sirius asked hoarsely.

"Yes..." The red-head threw James a quick look. "We're...James and I...we're having a baby."

Sirius' head flew up and James smiled. Maybe Lily had been right. "We wanted you to be the first to know," he said. "And we want you to be the Godfather."

For a long time, Sirius only stared. And then, his jaw clenched. "You're pregnant?" He asked Lily through gritted teeth, and Lily smiled, nodding at him.

"Yes."

"Are you insane?" Sirius asked slowly and Lily flinched even as James' eyes widened.

"Padfoot..." he began slowly.

"No," Sirius said, standing up, accidentally knocking over his tea. "No. I don't believe this. I can't understand you people! You're bringing a baby into this world? Lucan and Belinda are having one too, but at least they're not in the Order. But you and Lily are! Have you completely lost your minds? And ask me to be Godfather? You're off your rockers!"

James glared at Sirius, wrapping a protective arm around Lily, whose eyes were slowly filling with tears. "That's enough," he said, voice dangerously low. "I understand you're upset over Mandy, but you have no right to act like this!"

"Well, what do you want me to say? Congratulations?" Sirius laughed hollowly. "I ruin everything I touch, Prongs! If you make me Godfather of that kid...if you bring that kid into this sort of life...there's nothing to be happy about!"

Lily was sobbing now and James' eyes were cold as ice as he stared at his friend. "We came here to cheer you up – "

" – Good job," Sirius said in distain.

" – But I can see there's no reasoning with you. In fact, I don't see why we should bother with you at all while you're like this. I care that you're hurting, I do, but don't you dare take it out on Lily, or our baby. Snap out of it, Sirius, or Mandy won't be the only person leaving you." With that, James left, leading Lily out of the apartment, the door slamming behind them with a loud bang.

Sirius sank back down on his chair, his entire body trembling.

9 February

It was a cold, wet night in February and Severus scowled deeply into his drink. He didn't particularly like the Hog's Head, but he didn't feel like spending the night alone. He'd originally planned to summon Dorcas, but had then reconsidered: the Order member would doubtlessly talk his ear off first about morale and doing the right thing before falling into bed with him... And tonight, he was not in the mood for a lecture, or small talk for that matter, only mindless sex.

And since the Hog's Head was a place for both respectable and not-so-respectable people to come to get drunk, it was the perfect spot to pick up a one-night-stand. Unfortunately, no desirable prospects had stepped inside as of yet, unless one favoured a hag or someone of the male gender, neither of which suited Severus' tastes.

Just as Severus was about to give up, the door to the pub opened and Albus Dumbledore stepped in, looking around the room. Severus' eyes rose to his hairline. He'd never imagined the illustrious Headmaster of Hogwarts would ever deign himself to visit this place: the Three Broomsticks seemed to be more his style.

To his surprise, Dumbledore walked up to speak to the barman and Severus cocked his head, straining to hear the conversation.

"...Hello, Abe. I was supposed to meet a Sybill Trelawney here for an interview for the Divination post at Hogwarts...?"

The barman snorted. "Oh, her. She's even barmier than you – kept insisting on reading my fortune. I sent her upstairs."

Severus racked his head to try and remember all the people passing through the bar in the last ten minutes or so, and then it hit him: a woman, wearing huge glasses and draped in colourful shawls, chains, beads and various showy ornaments. It had to be her. He inwardly snorted. That she was a true seer or anyone worthy of a Hogwarts post was just as unlikely as a disarming charm offing the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore tried to surreptitiously glance at his watch, while at the same time pretend to pay attention to the ramblings of Sybill Trelawney. This interview – which was more like listening to a long, boring biography – had gone on for forty minutes already and the woman showed no indication she was about to stop talking. Sybill had not even given him an opportunity to speak, or so much as open his mouth for longer than a second.

"…I told her that she would die a most gruesome horrible death, but of course she did not believe me and threw me out with my head first!" Sybill sniffed. "It is unbelievable how short minded some people can be these days, don't you agree Headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded and forced up a smile. He didn't want to be rude, but if he had to sit here much longer, it would mean he would soon go mad – well, more mad than he already was, of course.

"…She got what she deserved: only a few days later she was found dead! Oh, her corpse was most mutilated indeed. And then there was this incident when I was three years old – I was a most talented child, you see, and I already had the gift of sight – this my parents noticed with pride when I accurately predicted a thief was about to sneak into our basement during one of my meditations - "

Dumbledore sighed deeply.

Severus frowned as he let his eyes roam over the clock hanging over the bar. It had been over forty minutes since Dumbledore went up the stairs and he wondered what was taking the man so long. It couldn't possibly take that much time for him to realise the woman was a total fraud – not even Dumbledore was that stupid. Unless there was something more going on...

Mind made up, Severus quickly got up from his chair and made his way up the stairs. In case Sybill Trelawney was someone of note, Severus wanted to be the one to find out and report it to the Dark Lord: it never hurt to be on his good side.

He did not notice that the barman's sharp blue eyes followed his every step.

" – And then she said that she had never seen such impressive skill before, not even from my great-great-grandmother, Cassandra Trelawney. You have heard of Cassandra, I presume?"

" – Miss Trelawney," Dumbledore finally managed to interrupt, in what he hoped was a sincere and calm voice. "I am afraid I will have to cut our interview here, as I have other matters to attend to. Unfortunately, I do not think you are what I seek in a Divination professor. In fact, I am not sure I will let the subject continue at all – "

" – Oh, but Headmaster Dumbledore, sir!" Trelawney exclaimed with wide eyes. "You must! And I have not yet told you of how I used my incredible foresight to rescue the Wales citizens from the giant flesh eating monster residing in Loch Ness!"

Dumbledore coughed and stood up, Trelawney quickly doing the same.

"I am truly sorry, but I really do have to leave. And Loch Ness is a lake in Scotland, not Wales, and I happen to know Nessie, the so-called 'monster' residing in the lake, is a vegetarian – quite unusual for a Kelpie – and very fond of apples." Trelawney stood up as well, presumably to stop him from leaving, but then, her eyes glazed over and she spoke, in a hoarse, mystified voice:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..."

Dumbledore, who had began to turn to leave, spun back to Trelawney so quickly, the mere eye could not have seen it, his purple robes swivelling behind him. "What did you say?" He hissed in a mere whisper, his blue eyes widening in shock behind his half-moon glasses. Trelawney didn't react at all to his question – she didn't even seem to have noticed – but instead continued to speak:

"…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."

If Dumbledore hadn't been so utterly focused on the seer, perhaps he would have heard the raised voices outside the door, but as it was, they barely registered: his attention was solely caught on the misty-eyed Sybill Trelawney, his breath caught in his throat.

"and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

For a second, Dumbledore thought she was done, but then, she continued with a second part to the prophecy – and to Dumbledore, there was no doubt it was one – her voice just as rough and eerie as before:

"The one with the power to guide the lightning child approaches… born to those who have thrice hoped for him, meant to unite the land of Albion … and chance will mark him as a defender, but he will first fall to power the Dark Lord knows well … and he must wake at the hand of his lover for the land will not live if he doesn't survive… the one with the power to guide the lightning child is meant to unite the land of Albion…"

For yet another short moment, Sybill paused, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. Then, a third part to the prophecy fell from her lips, her voice gaining new strength and a near ethereal conviction:

"The one with the power to shape the roads of destiny approaches… born to those who have thrice denied her, called as the Chosen One… and fate will mark her as its warrior, but she will fall to a power unknown … and then she must rise at the hand of her other for no one shall live if she doesn't survive… the one with the power to shape the roads of destiny has been called as the Chosen One…"

A chill went through the Headmaster as Trelawney finally fell silent, her head falling limply down towards her chest, but then it snapped up again, and the glassy look in her eyes disappeared.

"I am sorry, Headmaster, I must have nodded off - how rude of me..." She sounded quite confused. "I will not burden you any longer, I suppose," she started to walk towards the door, completely obvious to Dumbledore gaping mouth and dumbstruck expression.

However, just as she was about to reach for the handle, the door flew open, revealing Aberforth, who was holding – was that Severus Snape? – by the neck. Trelawney gasped in shock.

"Ab – what is the meaning of this?" Dumbledore demanded to know, standing up.

"I found him eavesdropping on your conversation – caught him in the act, I did," Aberforth said in a gruff voice, hurling Snape into the room.

"I-I was not!" Snape protested even as a shiver of fear travelled down Dumbledore's spine: how much had he heard? "I swear!"

Dumbledore looked down into coal-black, defiant eyes and ever so carefully, he began to prod him with legilimency. He had to know what Severus had heard - he could not be allowed to tell the Dark Lord...

Unfortunately, it seemed Snape had picked up Occlumency somewhere, for he immediately gasped, and as the young man's mental walls were slammed up, Dumbledore found himself thrown out of his mind.

His former student snarled dangerously, glaring at a spot slightly below the Headmaster's nose, knowing better than to look directly into his eyes after the man's attempt to look into his mind. "How dare you?" Snape was clearly flustered as he straightened his robes. "You may be the great Albus Dumbledore, but you have no right to stick your long nose where it doesn't belong," he snapped.

"And neither should you," Dumbledore said coldly. "How much did you hear?"

"Nothing!" Snape snapped, his normally pale face flushed red in anger and indignation. "I heard nothing."

Slowly, Dumbledore nodded, turning his attention to Aberforth. "How much do you think he heard?" He asked quietly.

Aberforth shrugged.

"Couldn't have been much," he whispered back. "I saw him at once and followed him immediately. Not more than a few words, I'd say."

"I told you," Snape hissed. "Is my word not enough?"

For several seconds, Dumbledore only looked at him, his eyes scrutinizing.

"Do you want to Obliviate him?" Aberforth asked after a few seconds. "Just to be sure?" Snape's head flew up in horror and panic and he bolted, fleeing the room. Aberforth pointed his wand at Snape's back, but Dumbledore placed a calming hand on his shoulder, stopping him from firing a spell.

"No. Let him run. I do not think he heard anything of importance."

Aberforth grunted. "If you say so. If you don't need me anymore, I'll go back downstairs. I've got a bar to run." He left the room, and Dumbledore turned his attention back to the rather pale Sybill.

A wide smile stretched across his face as he looked at her, his eyes slowly regaining their famous twinkle. "Well, Sybill – may I call you Sybill?" Sybill nodded, still quite stunned. "Splendid!" Dumbledore practically beamed. "Sybill, I have to say you have surprised me greatly with your skills tonight. I am pleased to say I think I have found exactly what I was looking for!"

"Y-you have?" Sybill stammered, quite bewildered.

"Yes!" Dumbledore nodded cheerfully. "It would be an honour if you would come teach at Hogwarts – in fact, I would love it if you decided to move in on a permanent basis. Perhaps in one of the towers? You would be completely undisturbed and if you want other arrangements, I am certain we can work something out."

Sybill Trelawney blinked. Then blinked again. "I-I got the job?"

"But of course!" Dumbledore smiled. "No question about it. So what do you say? In fact, you could move in straight away, to give you plenty of time to prepare yourself and settle in - though your teaching duties won't start until September, of course."

"I-I'd love to!" Sybill stammered out, only now beginning to recover from her shock.

"Excellent!"

As Dumbledore led Trelawney outside, only absently listening to her ramblings, the twinkle from his eyes disappeared. He had to go over the prophecy again in his pensieve, but he had no doubt it held the answers he needed to end this war – perhaps even to shake magical Britain – the world – up by its very foundation. And the source of it had to be protected, which meant making sure Sybill Trelawney was safely tucked away at Hogwarts. He could not risk her falling into Voldemort's hands.

He had to keep the prophecy secret, at all cost.

"My Lord!" The doors to Voldemort's throne chamber slammed open, Snape silhouetted in the doorway. The Death Eater hurried forward, falling into a hasty, sloppy bow by his feet.

"Severus," Voldemort acknowledged as he looked down at him, displeased. "I did not summon you tonight. Why are you here?"

Snape visibly gulped. "I apologize, but I have news, my Lord: it is important."

"It better be, since you dare barge in here like my equal. Something you are not, nor will you ever be, Severus, and you would do well to remember it," the Dark Lord told him, voice cold.

"Yes, my Lord," Snape mumbled. "I was at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, when Dumbledore stepped inside to have an interview with someone for the post of Divination professor at Hogwarts."

"This is what you disturbed me for? As much as Dumbledore's whereabouts and actions interest me, I do not see the relevance of this to our cause," Voldemort spat. "You disappoint me, Severus. CRU – "

" – Wait!" Snape exclaimed. "There's more. I-I thought the interview went on for a ridiculous amount of time, so I followed upstairs to listen in. T-the woman – she was...she was foreshadowing. She was telling a prophecy. A real one!"

Voldemort lowered his wand. "A prophecy?" He hissed. "You are certain of this?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Well?" The Dark Lord demanded, impatient. "What did it say?"

Snape licked his lips. "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches," he recited, trying not to flinch as his master noticeably stiffened in fury. "Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…" He trailed off.

Voldemort's red eyes were blazing, his body trembling in anger. "And? Go on!"

"T-there was more to it, my Lord," Snape said. "B-but…the barkeeper discovered me. I-I did not hear the rest."

"You did not hear the rest?" The Dark Lord's voice was dangerously low. "You come to me, with the news of a prophecy – a prophecy that seemingly refers to my possible downfall – and YOU DON'T CATCH IT ALL?" Voldemort voice rose to impossible levels. "CRUCIO! CRUCIO!"

"I-I'M SORRY, MY LORD!" Snape cried out between his screams of pain. "I-if I had not been discovered – "

"Do not make excuses for your failings!" Voldemort spat, increasing the power behind the Unforgivable, basking in the way Snape's screams grew louder. "This is inexcusable. You would not have been discovered in the first place if you had been less pathetic and taken the right precautions. I am most displeased, Severus. Most displeased, indeed."

He finally lifted the curse. "If it were not for the fact that I value your skills and intellect, Severus, you would not be leaving this room alive," Voldemort said. "But, considering that without you, I would not know of the prophecy at all, I will spare your life, this once. You have one more chance."

"Yes, yes…thank you," Snape was nodding furiously from his place on the floor, shivering and sobbing. "I-I'll do anything, my Lord."

"Do not fail me again, Severus," the Dark Lord warned. "I will not be so lenient again."

"No, my Lord," Snape shook his head. "Never. I am your most…loyal servant."

"I hope so, Severus. I certainly hope so…for your sake. Or you can wave goodbye to the reward I have offered you in return for your services. In fact, in view of this transgression, it is even now hanging in the balance."

Snape swallowed.

"Do not forget, Severus: success is met with reward, and mistakes with punishment. Your claim to Lily Potter can easily be taken away. It is only due to my benevolence that you can have her, after all. Remember that, before you fail me again."

Snape gritted his teeth, something that did not go unnoticed, and the Dark Lord raised an enquiring eyebrow: "Does that displease you, Severus? Perhaps you find it unfair?"

Severus did, in fact, find it unfair, but was not about to say that to the Dark Lord. "Not at all, my Lord. You are most generous."

Voldemort nodded. "You may leave."

Slowly, wincing, still in pain from the Cruciatus curse, Snape stood, bowing stiffly. "Oh, and Severus," Voldemort added, voice quiet but the threat obvious: "Do not mistake my generosity for mercy. I have given you one more chance and one chance only – waste it, and your life – and the life of Lily Potter – will be forfeit, mark my words."

Published: 28/07 -11
Edited: 24/06 -12

Trivia

- "Just as likely as a disarming charm offing the Dark Lord" – a little well-meant cheek to Deathly Hallows.
- Snape overhears the prophecy: we know from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix that someone overheard Trelawney's prophecy. From Deathly Hallows, we know that person is Snape.
- The two additional parts to the prophecy: with Buffy's appearance in the HP-verse, there are many changes. The prophecy is part of it, as well as a hint of what may happen further on.
- "I-I'll do anything." This line by Snape was meant to contrast Lily's appeal to the Dark Lord in canon: while Severus begs for his own life, Lily begs for her son's.