Because we already know where Snape's allegiances truly lie, I will not be making a mystery out of it. I will be writing from the perspective that Snape's loyalty is well established for readers. This is a radical departure from canon in book six, The Half-Blood Prince.

Chapter 3
The Foxtrot

The wind was howling. Fallen leaves rustled and raked along the ground, and trees swayed dangerously, threatening to snap in half. It was dusk. Fog covered much of the rolling hills and the pale moon cast an eerie light upon its surroundings. The dark outline of a tall, thin man could be seen striding swiftly, yet smoothly down the countryside.

Upon closer inspection, the dark man was hooded and cloaked, the heavy fabric obscuring his visage. His distortedly lengthened shadow moved along as silently as its owner. The lone figure reached an abandoned looking house, and slipped inside.

Lowering his hood, a pale face with piercing black eyes, surrounded by a curtain of dark hair was now visible.

Severus Snape was no ordinary man. Students knew him as a formidable and callous tyrant. Colleagues knew him to be a reserved and solitary, if not abrasive man; yet resourceful, independent and intelligent. One man, a particularly elderly man, knew also of his astonishing bravery and fortitude, and unwavering loyalty.

He was also a spy, a double agent; a spy who could keep others from invading his mind, even the most adept at this skill. What most everyone also did not know, was that Severus hid dark secrets, hidden deep within the recesses of his being.

Severus Snape knew it was a dangerous dance he was performing. One slip-up, one wrong move would spell his sure destruction. More than that, it would endanger what had become his sole mission in life: the permanent defeat of the Dark Lord must finally be achieved. He had yearned for it for so long. Ever since that dreaded day… But he must not think about that now. He had to be careful. He cleared his mind of all thought which came to him almost as naturally as breathing, having done it countless times before.

Walking down the dismal halls, and donning a mask, he reached the room of the meeting place. Indeed, upon entering the dimly lit room, there sitting in a high-backed armchair in the center of the back of the room was the most feared man in all of the Wizarding world. Figures bearing the same guise as Severus himself formed a sort of semi-circle around the man, so as to clearly show who was in command. Severus also knew that this was a device to ensure that the Dark Lord could maintain direct eye contact with all who gathered there, allowing him to probe the minds of his servants.

Many of the organization Severus had joined what seemed like so many long years ago were already assembled there. He took his rightful place among the ranks. Voldemort had just successfully freed a number of his followers imprisoned in Azkaban. It was hardly a taxing mission as the Dementors were only too happy to oblige the Dark Lord's every whim in exchange for souls to feed upon. Consequently, the group gathered at this meeting swelled in number. A few others came soon thereafter and the meeting commenced.

"Welcome, my friends," greeted Voldemort in his cold, high voice.

If Severus could think freely, he would have thought this statement to be quite scoff-worthy, as he doubted very much that the Dark Lord had ever had friends or ever felt such emotions as affection. Even now, the closest thing to it would have to be his pet snake, Nagini.

"And to those who have returned, we are especially glad of your presence for now, we are stronger than ever. We meet once again and I come bearing joyous news." (Another sensation Severus also would have thought wholly foreign to the Dark Lord).

"You all know of know of my ambition to rid the world of one Harry Potter. Unfortunately, I have been thwarted by sheer luck on Potter's part and that meddlesome fool Albus Dumbledore, but no more." He paused dramatically. "Some of you may have heard that his mother's sacrifice protected the boy. Old magic, I should have foreseen it. So, in my ingenuity I returned to my body using the boy's blood. I can now touch him."

They, of course, had all heard this many times before but were expected to act as if enthralled, although some may actually be genuine in their manifestations; indeed it seemed as though it was taking all of the discipline Bellatrix possessed not to burst aloud in frenzied exaltation.

"At the time, I was not free to explore the possibilities of this new power," Voldemort continued, "but now, now that I am in the open, I can operate without reservation. One of the first things I will do with this new freedom is to test the limitations of my new connection with the famous Harry Potter," he said, spitting out the last three words menacingly as if in disgust.

Severus knew where this was going. Apparently, so did the others. Many of the Death Eaters were now waiting with bated breath in anticipation. This, unlike the introduction preceding this statement, was a new development. Not good, Severus didn't think.

"We are going to plan a nice surprise for our little friend." Now the Death Eaters were tittering wickedly.

Voldemort continued to describe yet another plot to undo Harry Potter, detailing the responsibilities of each Death Eater that would be involved. Surprisingly, this was a bold move by Voldemort, many of the Death Eaters were now enlivened with the Dark Lord's newest plan. Severus assumed a look of grim satisfaction. Spy or not, everyone knew him to him to be a stoic man of little outward emotion. No one would question his seeming appearance of relevant apathy.

Laying the basic outline of their objective, and once again reiterating Lord Voldemort's greatness and Harry Potter's ordinariness, the meeting was finally adjourned. When Severus made to leave, however, a hissing voice held him back, "No, you wait, Severus." Severus complied.

Belllatrix, who upon exiting the door heard this, turned to glare at Snape.

"Go on, Bella," said Voldemort, "Everything is fine here," he assured her, appearing bored with her behavior.

"Yes, my Lord?" Severus inquired once she left.

"I require a favor of you."

"Of course, my Lord."

"First, Severus, you must know that what I am about to tell you I have told only two others. You should consider yourself very privileged indeed. But I am in need of a skilled potions master of your caliber."

"I am deeply honored, my Lord."

Voldemort continued as if nothing had been said, "I do not think it necessary for me to enlighten you as to what will happen if you should fail." A long and tense silence followed, leaving his unspoken threat to hang in the air. "Or," he finally continued, "if this information should happen fall into the wrong ears."

"You needn't worry, my Lord."

Lord Voldemort gave him a look that clearly communicated that he had better not.

"As you know, my immortality has been a priority about which I care immensely. I have made previously undiscovered breakthroughs and immeasurable progress that others can only dream of. But there remain limitations still, limitations I have strived to eradicate. And through my cunning and relentless pursuit, I believe I have finally discovered secrets that will unlock most wondrous possibilities, allowing me to fortify my grasp on immortality. Of course, I will not divulge the whole extent of my knowledge."

"Of course. That is most sensible, my Lord. You would be foolish to do otherwise," agreed Severus.

"There is something you must do for me; I will give you the instructions for the potion I require. I understand it will be very complex, but I can be patient if I must. However, you would do well not to take any advantage of my benevolence on this matter. I believe there are a few missing pieces, nevertheless, I trust that your superior expertise in potions-making will overcome this slight complication."

An objective listener may have taken this to be a compliment; however, they would be wrong. It was a veiled threat, warning his followers that failure to complete expectations was simply unacceptable.

"For now, I will give you the list of ingredients; once you procure those I will give you the instructions. I will provide whatever details you deem necessary to concoct the potion. Do not dare try to abuse this power, I shall know."

"But of course, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord."

"Very well, then. Until our next meeting."

Severus bowed at the Dark Lord's feet and made once again to leave.

"Oh, and Severus," the voice held him back once more, "when you determine the date and time, you know how to contact me." In the meeting, it was determined that he was to set these conditions of the Dark Lord's strategy. Severus gave a curt nod and finally departed.

Walking down the halls and turning out a doorway he met none other than Bellatrix Lestrange in a dark recess of the hallway. Severus put on a look of mild annoyance. "I hope you aren't lingering in hopes of regaining the Dark Lord's favor," he drawled.

Bellatrix huffed in indignation. "I don't know what you're talking about, Snape, but know this: I will be watching your every move. Everyone else may trust you, but I don't. Soon they'll all see," she went on almost frantically, "I'll prove everyone wrong, I will. And you will meet your, shall we say… unsavory end."

"Most intriguing. Are you quite sure this has nothing to do with the fact that someone may have finally supplanted you as the most valuable asset to the Dark Lord?" he remarked snidely. "Or could it be that I have actually hoodwinked the most powerful Legilimens of all time, but failed to deceive the all-knowing Bellatrix Lestrange?" he mocked sardonically. "Is this a sentiment you have shared with the Dark Lord?"

Bellatrix said nothing, but looked murderous.

"Hmm, I thought not," he hummed superiorly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must be going. Unlike you, I have more important things to be doing than skulking around in empty hallways."

With that he left, leaving a flustered Bellatrix behind.

Sufficiently hidden from view among the trees, Severus removed his Death Eater's mask and Apparated back to the front gates of Hogwarts. He walked briskly along the path to lead him to the main doors. Once inside the castle, he headed directly to the Headmaster's office.

It was strange to be here during the summer holidays, as there were no students milling about and all was quiet and empty aside from the occasional ghost wandering about the halls. Too bad it can't last, thought Severus.

There were two students in particular that occupied his thoughts, and for very different reasons. He remembered that fateful night when Narcissa Malfoy, accompanied (most unfortunately) by her repugnant sister, Bellatrix, arrived at his doorstep, defeated and broken. She pleaded with him — reminding him uncomfortably of Death Eaters who would often beg the Dark Lord's forgiveness when a mistake was made — to save her son. He knew this was coming of course, and had many a quarrel with Dumbledore on the matter. In the end, they both agreed to do what was best for Draco, he was only a boy after all.

Severus wanted to do all he could to avert the young Malfoy from committing the same mistakes he had made earlier in his life, but he could not do so without arousing suspicion. Severus knew why the Dark Lord had selected Draco to enter the ranks of the Death Eaters. Severus may not be very fond of the boy (don't let him fool you, his favoritism towards the Malfoy boy and his cronies was all a part of the act he had to play), but he would never wish such a fate on him. He may be nothing more than a glorified bully, but he wasn't evil. And most of the boy's less than desirable qualities were due to his upbringing, and the people who surrounded him at school were obviously not likely to expand his perspective system of beliefs.

In any case, the Potions' Master wanted to look out for the Malfoy boy. Severus wasn't blind, as was Draco's deluded aunt who professed it to be an 'honor'. It was not an honor, but retribution in order to punish Lucius for his error, as Bellatrix's more astute sister came to realize. Severus had no choice but to accept Narcissa's proposal. If he did not, his loyalties would become immediately suspect, especially with Bellatrix in audience.

However, this decision came with a heavy price. Albus had asked a lot of Severus, but this, this just might be too much:

"So poor Draco has been made a Death Eater, and his first mission is to murder me?"

Dumbledore stood by his office window, having just received news from Severus of Voldemort's latest plot. "What an ambitious task for one so young."

"What are you going to do?" asked Snape.

"Am I right in thinking that you are the successor to the mission should Draco fail?"

"I believe that is the Dark Lord's plan, yes," replied Snape. He waited for Dumbledore to elaborate further, but all Dumbledore seemed to do was consider his options. After a long silence, Severus could no longer hold his questions. "Surely, you aren't going to let him succeed?" he asked incredulously.

"No, no. Certainly not. No, you must do that."

There was a longer silence still, broken only by the clicking beak of Fawkes.

"Would you like me to do it now?" asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. "Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?"

"Oh, not quite yet," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I daresay the moment will present itself in due course." He paused once more, reflecting sadly upon the situation. "Draco is not as cruel as he can sometimes be. We cannot do this to him. It would destroy him."

"And what about me?" Severus could no longer contain his fury, which was saying a great deal considering he was a man who was exemplary at mastering his emotions. But the one emotion he was most prone to exhibiting was his anger. His students would agree with this, although he was rarely truly angry, maybe irritated, but hardly as livid as he indicated. This was mostly a device to discourage students from pestering him.

If there was one thing Severus and learned from the Dark Lord, it was that fear could be a powerful tool. Furthermore, he didn't need their loyalty, he just wanted them to leave him alone and do as he said. He also felt no inclination to spare the senseless adolescents the castigation.

He was also accustomed enough to Dumbledore to sometimes show exactly how he felt. This was one of those times.

"Do you know what it is you are asking of me?"

"Severus —"

"I'm already tainted so it won't affect me at all? Is that what this is?"

"Of course not, Severus, but —"

"But what! I —"

"Severus, please!" Dumbledore urged. "You know as well as I that this could destroy what good is left in Draco and, I fear, cause irreparable damage to his soul. He may not be able to return to the Light as you did. I, of course, realize the immense pressure this would put on you, but you are strong, Severus. You —"

"Don't. I know what you are trying to do, you manipulative bastard," Severus retorted.

Dumbledore did not so much as blink in response to this new moniker. "Severus, don't think of this as an act of murder, but the request of an old man."

Severus snorted. "I'm sure that will be an adequate alibi."

"You must," urged Dumbledore, "if you don't, Narcissa will suspect you. I expect she'll be requesting it of you soon. The likelihood that she will invoke the Unbreakable Vow —"

"I can avoid her if I must."

"Severus —"

"What if I don't? What if I refuse to perform the Vow?"

"Then Voldemort will discover your secret and you will be killed."

Severus stood his ground giving the older man a look that clearly said, 'And?'

"No, I will not allow that to happen," said Albus, his tone firm. Severus scoffed. As if he had any say in what he could or could not do! "And you know that in order for us to defeat Voldemort, we must have someone on the inside. If you are gone, who will then be that source of information?"

Severus knew what Albus was trying to do. He was trying to appeal to Severus' logic-inclined mind. But really he knew that the older man was too Gryffindoric for his own good and was now employing Slytherin tactics to achieve his gold-hearted aspirations. The audacity!

"I refuse to believe that I am more important than you in the Dark Lord's downfall."

"Then you presume much," countered Albus sharply, beginning to become agitated.

"Why? Why do you believe my life is worth more than yours?" he demanded.

"It is quite simple. You are indispensable, and I am not."

Severus opened his mouth to argue, but this time, it was Albus cutting him off. "A spy is needed to win this war; and if you die, we cannot simply find another. If I am gone, the Order of Phoenix will still have a leader. And you must be here. If Voldemort holds sway over the school, you must remain here to protect the students in any way you can. He will no longer need a spy, but you will presumably be allowed to continue teaching."

"But you are the greatest wizard of our time! And you are the only one he fears. Not to mention the emotional defeat the public will undoubtedly experience. How can they possibly find hope if you are killed?"

"I never believed that any one wizard, no matter how great, could outweigh the resolve of the people as a whole. They will find their hope in Harry."

Ah, yes. Their biggest disagreement. "Yes, a teenage boy will reign as our savior; who needs Albus Dumbledore?" he mocked sarcastically.

"Severus." Those usually twinkling blue eyes were hardened in warning.

"How can you possibly hope that this boy will be the key to our salvation?"

Dumbledore remained stoically silent. Clearly, he was not going to entertain him once more on this matter. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. He never understood this. The boy was nothing short of ordinary.

But he trusted Albus. He had to. For if he could not trust Albus Dumbledore, all was surely lost. But sometimes, and now increasingly more than sometimes, doubt began to creep its way into his mind.

Maybe Dumbledore was becoming senile after all, he would sometimes think to himself. Especially where it concerned Potter. Was there something that Albus knew that he didn't? He seemed so certain. Or was the old man blinded by his affection (what warranted this, Severus had no idea) for the boy.

"Things will soon change. Soon, I will not be the only one he fears," Albus said more quietly.

"How can you be so sure?"

"It is inevitable."

"That's it? That's your grand explanation?" he exclaimed in disbelief. "No, that's not what this is about, Albus. And you and I both know it!"

"Then what is this about?" the old wizard inquired mildly.

Severus could hardly believe it. They were not simply talking about the weather! "Why do you insist it is imperative that you be the one to sacrifice yourself, Albus? Do you want to die?"

Silence.

The incredulity must have shown on his face for Albus said, "No, it is not that I wish to die. But I have lived a life of length and plenty. I am an old man, but you are —"

"Don't," commanded Severus in his dangerous tone, "Don't pull that on me, Albus. It won't work."

"I will not let you sacrifice yourself for me, Severus," Albus declared, immovable. "And we must think of Draco, he —"

"We knew there might come a time when I was discovered. I could discontinue my position as a double agent and find other ways to gather information. I wouldn't have to 'sacrifice myself', as you say."

"You and I both know that would not end well as skilled as you are at espionage. And I know you well enough to know that you would never willingly become a passive observer."

"There must be another way, Albus."

"You must prepare yourself for this possibility."

"Maybe I don't want to do it anymore! Maybe I will just not do as you please this time. Maybe I've finally had enough!"

"Severus —"

"Maybe you ask too much this time," he said in a dangerously low voice.

"I know I have asked terribly much of you, Severus, but this is my one last great request."

Severus said nothing.

"You will, of course, understand if this is to occur, the Order will no longer trust you," Dumbledore continued as if Severus had agreed to this, "but Voldemort will trust you completely. He will protect you —"

"— until I am of no more use to him."

"You will be Headmaster of this school, his connection to Hogwarts. He will do no such thing. In the event that you should ever become obsolete in his eyes, you must go into hiding, you can —"

"No. I will not hide."

"Severus, please, I would have you safe," Dumbledore pleaded.

"But you would also have me be your killer! I am not afraid of death; in fact, when the time comes I may even welcome it." At this, Dumbledore took on a look of extreme sorrow. "But I will not hide. I do not wish to die a coward, at least give me that. At least let me retain what dignity I have left. I may not be the noblest man alive, but I have no desire to be your murderer, Albus."

The man Severus never thought of as old suddenly looked every year his age and then some. His face was lined with worry and grief and his now somber eyes were full of worldly wisdom.

"My dear boy. Believe me when I say that the last thing I want to do is place even more burden upon your shoulders. But this is the only way that we can spare Draco from such a horrific experience. He believes he and his family will die at the hands of the most feared wizard alive if he does not succeed. He is not a killer. Neither are you, Severus. However this will not be a malicious act of violence, but one of sacrifice. You will be saving Draco from a terrible fate. I cannot fight young Draco. His defeat would ensure his death along with his family's. I cannot do that to him. It is my job to protect my students, even if they are affiliated with radical organizations. This was not his choice, even if he pretends to believe otherwise. If Draco succeeds in his mission, he will not have the knowledge that what he has committed is anything other than wanton murder."

Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course, this all made sense to him. Logically, he should be able to accept that this was the best course of action. Then why did he feel so damn upset about it? He knew, of course, exactly why he was upset.

"I know," he finally said. "But I would have thought that the brilliant Albus Dumbledore could discover a way in which to circumvent this situation."

"Unfortunately not, my boy. Let us hope it will not come to this," was Dumbledore's solemn response.

"I will do as you ask, if and when the time comes. But I do not know if I can ever forgive you for this," Severus stated plainly.

There was sadness in the old man's eyes, and although Severus knew this was the best option available to them, he could not help but feel a sliver of resentment towards the man he often considered a sagacious, if not officious, mentor.

"I do not expect nor demand it of you, I deserve no less. I can only hope that you will one day find it in your heart to forgive me, much as I am unworthy of it. But for now, I will just say 'thank you', Severus. I am forever in your debt."

"Which you won't be able to repay if you're not…"

The Headmaster gave him a humorless smile. "Well, we'll see when the time comes, if it does indeed come."

Severus stood up to leave. Albus rose as well. "I know I do not say this enough, although I know you may not especially welcome praise, but I am so very proud of you, Severus. You are a much better man than I. And you underestimate yourself. You are much more 'noble' than you think."

Snape didn't know what to say. His first reaction was that Albus was only saying all of this to mollify Severus' anxieties and cajole him into forgiving Dumbledore, but Severus had had more than enough experience as a spy to know that the old wizard was being sincere. He had no idea how Albus could say those things about him, when he had done terrible things in his past. And Albus seemed to be the embodiment of goodness.

He was deeply touched, even if he couldn't tell at the moment, as he was more occupied with being angry with the man. But he wasn't used to such praise. On the occasions when Dumbledore had lauded him abundantly, he found himself becoming more awkward than usual. Now was no exception. Dumbledore in his perceptivity seemed to understand this, for he said, "That is all, Severus. You may leave."

Severus had thought back to this conversation many times since. But the student he was going to discuss with Dumbledore now was a different story entirely.

He had arrived at the ugly gargoyle and gave it the absurdly ludicrous password 'fizzing whizbee'. Impatient to relate the latest news, Severus ascended the escalating spiral staircase, walking the steps two at a time. "Enter", a voice said upon knocking the door. "Please sit," said Dumbledore as Snape shut the door behind him.

"Sherbet lemon?" the old man proffered a bowl. Severus returned a scowl in answer. Honestly, after all of the times he had declined to eat the candies, he'd thought that Dumbledore would quit offering him some. The headmaster shrugged, popped one of the candies into his own mouth and set the bowl aside. "Now, Severus, what news?" he asked.

Severus told Dumbledore of Voldemort's latest, ignoble plan. Once finished, Albus just sat in silence, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Severus abruptly glanced at Dumbledore, "You mean not to tell him."

Dumbledore sighed and said, "You know as well as I that any information given to Harry is accessible to Lord Voldemort."

"Do you not think he has a right to know what will be happening? What you plan to do?" Snape asked, disbelief coloring his face.

"I have a hard time believing that you actually care for what Harry does or does not deserve. You have never been inclined to do so it seems, at any rate. In fact, I would even go as far as conjecturing that you go out of your way to be less than accommodating towards Harry." Dumbledore sighed again, "I really do wish you would set aside this grudge of yours, Severus. It is not even Harry's to settle. He is not his father, who matured to become a very good and honorable man, I might add." Severus snorted.

"Harry is much more his mother's son." Severus stiffened at this. "He is a remarkable boy. I rather think you two could learn a tremendous amount from each other if you allowed yourselves to reach a point of reconciliation."

"I have no desire to treat with the boy, Albus. I only wish to guarantee his safety, which I'd rather was not a lost cause."

"It will not be. Everything will be fine, Severus."

"Are you certain, Albus?"

The old man passed a tired hand over his face. "In this life, nothing is certain. But I believe this is for the best."

"And you will explain this all to him?" Severus pressed.

"I do not know why you are so persistent on this matter," responded Dumbledore.

"I just don't think you should make decisions for someone and leave them in the dark only to be blindsided. He may not appreciate it," Snape said with underlying venom.

Dumbledore paused for a moment and looked at Severus with his penetrating gaze. "We aren't talking about Harry anymore, are we, Severus?"

Severus chose to ignore this. "There is another matter to discuss, one that I believe to be of utmost importance."

"Severus, I just wa—"

"It is another of the Dark Lord's plots to further his hold on immortality. One that I am to assist him in," Snape continued, unperturbed.

Dumbledore gave him a look that clearly indicated he still wanted to talk about any problems they had between them, but knew not to push Severus so nodded to signal for him to continue.

"The Dark Lord has obtained a very old potions formula, and looking at the ingredients, I would say it has something to do with more blood magic."

"Undoubtedly full of dark magic, as well," Dumbledore mused.

"But of course," replied Severus. "I am not quite sure what this potion will do exactly, but it is one of the most complex potions I have ever seen. He gave me a list of ingredients," he said as he handed the list to Albus. "Once I have procured those, he will give me the instructions to concoct the potion. He has given me no timeline. In return," Severus continued, "I will be permitted to seek information as needed concerning the procedure and completion of the concoction."

At this, Dumbledore look up sharply. "You should fulfill this request as soon as possible, Severus. You will have to complete it in any case. We might as well do it quickly and in a fashion that will minimize the risk it poses to you. Voldemort may be pleased with your speed and place you into his better graces, so to speak, so as to glean as much information as we dare seek."

"I had the same idea."

"Very well." Albus looked over the ingredients list once more. "Yes, this almost certainly has something to do with blood magic. I'd be astounded if it wasn't. Maybe… Yes, possibly that as well…" now murmuring to himself.

Severus raised his eyebrows as Albus glanced up. "No matter," said Dumbledore as if they had both come to the same conclusion. "Severus, do what you must do," he said, handing back the list, "and inform me once you have managed to acquire the ingredients Voldemort so desires."

"Yes, Headmaster." Severus turned to leave.

"Severus?"

Snape turned around to face the Headmaster once again. "Is there anything else you wished to discuss?"

Looking into those penetrating, brilliantly bright blue eyes he said, "No, Albus. I shall see you tomorrow."

"Alright then. Until tomorrow," Albus conceded.

Severus descended the stairs that led to his quarters. Sweeping past his classroom, he thought with distaste how school would be starting up again soon. Anyone who had known him in long years past would never have predicted him to become a teacher. He actually didn't mind the concept of teaching a class itself, contrary to popular belief. But this was hampered by the fact that the supposed pupils he was obligated to teach were just about as intelligible as the grime on the dungeon walls.

There was one student in particular he wasn't looking forward to meeting once again. The very same student he made it his life's mission to protect. It seemed odd, very odd indeed that this misanthropic man would strive so tirelessly to help what was in his mind, a cheeky adolescent he despised so.

But he harbored suppressed thoughts and feelings and a mysterious past that led to this situation. His reason was ludicrously simple and rather prosaic, but was nevertheless authentic and proved to be unwaveringly sustaining for Severus. Likewise, his singular goal was also strikingly simple.

He never contemplated what he would do after his mission was completed, after the war. What he had confided in Dumbledore was the truth. Severus did not expect to survive the war. So what use was there in planning beyond what may never be a possibility?

And if he truly searched his feelings, he would understand that he would be quite nervous of the answer. For what would he do after the war, when the one thing he was trying to accomplish was finally over? What would he have to look forward to?

Being a spy was not especially enjoyable, but it gave him purpose, gave him a feeling of fulfillment. Whether or not he lived was completely irrelevant. As long as he achieved what he set out to do, if death was the price to pay, well, then that was fine with Severus.

He went into the washroom in his quarters to wash his hands, something he felt prompted to do after meetings with the Dark Lord and his cronies. He looked up into the mirror above the hand basin. He knew he was never particularly attractive; nevertheless, he was slightly disturbed to see how old he looked. He looked at least ten years older than he really was. He was technically still a young man, but he didn't feel like it.

He felt even older than he looked. His forehead was decorated with permanent lines of worry. Around his temple, he could see strands of grey starting to emerge. His pallid skin made him look almost sickly.

He sighed. He couldn't even remember the last time he felt young and carefree. Well, he could, but such thoughts only brought about more pain. And even then, he had had his troubles. At least with Voldemort, all you felt was the physical pain.

But looking back on his days of so-called innocence, it was like looking through a glass ceiling, or as if in a dream. There, but unattainable. Because the feeling was too unfamiliar, beyond all recall. If he tried to truly remember, it was like grasping at smoke. Vague shapes disappearing into nothingness until he could remember no more.

Deciding to attempt to put an end to these melancholy thoughts he moved away from the mirror and instead entered the living area. He walked over to the cabinets and grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey. Just a couple of glasses to numb his thoughts, he reasoned.

He started to open the bottle, but then paused, and set it back down. He did not want to make this a habitual routine, like his father. If he drank every time he was feeling strained, he would be a bona fide alcoholic. He instead went about making himself a cup of coffee, another mannerism he had learned from his despised father — although this custom wasn't as unhealthy and Severus didn't do it often. Unlike the majority of people, he took his without caffeine, as he knew it could be an addictive drug.

He sat in silence. Varying thoughts swirled in his mind: how would things go tomorrow, what Voldemort was planning, if, in the end, he would have to slay the only man who truly trusted him, the only person who had an inkling of who he was.

Severus was a man who preferred to keep to himself, to be alone. But at times like these, whether he was aware of it or not, he wished it were not so. He pondered this and many other thoughts; they drifted into the night in silence, never to be heard.

***END CHAPTER***

Chapter 4:

Dumbledore arrives to retrieve Harry at Privet Drive, and a tense confrontation ensues after which Harry accompanies him on a most peculiar quest. Our protagonist also finds out more about the current status of his connection to Voldemort. More unknown individuals are introduced to Harry, and disaster strikes while on his outing with Dumbledore.

"No," Harry said resolutely. "If you think it will put somebody in danger, especially someone in the Order, I don't need to know."

"You will know soon enough, Harry. I only hope you will be able to forgive me," said Dumbledore, his eyes almost pleading.

Harry stared at him. What could he possibly know that would cause Harry to become so at odds with the man? Maybe it was best he didn't know. Harry wasn't going to be selfish and place another's life in danger. "I trust you, sir. I'm sure everything will be fine."

Signing off,
fanster