September and October 1995

As she was now a Hogwarts Researcher in Residence, it was traditional that she be introduced at the Welcoming Feast. Civia had asked for no introduction or announcement about her presence at Hogwarts during the Welcoming Feast, and Albus had easily agreed.

Of course, that did not mean she did not attend.

A raven fluttered through the air into the Great Hall, cawing softly as it flew down toward the staff's table while, before the professors, students were streaming in.

Severus watch its descent, before it swooped down and landed upon his shoulder. "Really?" he asked lowly.

In response, the bird cawed in his face, before turning to look out over the students smugly.

"Severus," came the Headmaster's voice. "You seem to have attained a new friend."

The Potions Master sighed. "Indeed, she has unfortunately chosen me as a 'friend'."

Albus laughed merrily, and Severus wondered if Civia had told him, or if the Headmaster had merely figured it out as he had.

Throughout the feast, Civia was on his shoulder or perched on the back of his chair, watching carefully and ignoring any stares she got. She listened to it all, from Albus' salutations and good wishes, to that Umbridge woman's interrupting speech.

It was informative, if nothing else.


After the feast had ended, Civia remained on the Potions Master's shoulder as he descended into the dungeons and entered his chambers.

"Well?" he asked her.

She leapt from his shoulder and transformed with a soft pop into her usual form. "I am apparently your new familiar."

"Is that what you intend?" he asked archly.

"Yes," she replied coolly, before laughing. "Oh my goodness, did you see the students' faces? Just when you couldn't be any more frightening, you use a raven instead of an owl for post!"

His lips curled slightly into a smirk. "Well, it doesn't hurt."

The witch rolled her eyes, before her mirth dimmed and she remembered some business they had yet to address.

"The Dark Lord wants me to deal with you, Severus."

His smirk faded. "Ah, yes. I was wondering when he would want you to kill me."

"He suggested trying—but before that, he suggested I befriend and eventually seduce you," she added. "I think he wants me to befriend you but, if the opportunity seizes itself, to kill you without revealing myself."

The Potions Master paused, thinking. "Perhaps a poisoning is in order…"

"Severus, you can't be serious!"

He smirked. "And why not? It'd be poetic justice for a Potions Master."

"A little obvious, don't you think?" she asked, planning and scheming. "You'd think you'd prepare for that…"

Severus nodded. "Which is why it shan't kill me, only slightly subdue me for a week or so."

"You have a plan," she realized, perking up, and grinned. "Share."


It happened in the Great Hall.

It was a typical early October evening when the staff and students alike were gathered for their dinner.

Severus was eating his shepherd's pie, while "Morgana" the raven perched on the back of his chair, glaring down at any student who gazed upon her too long. He was seated between Minerva and Poppy, which they had hoped for but not planned, when it happened.

He'd taken a long gulp from his wine, when his trembling hand lowered his goblet of wine to the table, only to fumble and send it crashing to the floor, drawing every eye in the Great Hall.

His face had gone abruptly white, as he gripped his throat in terror, before his hands went immediately to his pockets.

"Poison!" he shouted in a mangled voice, and his familiar cawed in warning at his side—just as the Potions Master crumpled—before the entire school—to the floor.

Panic swept through the room, particularly at the Slytherin and head tables, though many could only gape in horror.

"Poppy!" Minerva snapped, sweeping over to the prone and now unconscious Potions Master's side.

The mediwitch was there not a second later, checking his pulse and vital signs with a wave of her wand.

"Hemlock!" Poppy announced quietly. "He's ingested too much—I can't brew an antidote, not in the time it'd take—"

But the raven had fluttered to the floor, between Minerva and Severus, pecking at his pockets.

"What are you doing, bird?" the Transfiguration Mistress cried. "Shoo!"

The raven cawed at her, before drawing a wrinkled white stone from the pocket.

"A bezoar," Poppy realized, snatching it up. "Severus is brilliant!"


October 1998

Soon after the Order of Merlin ceremony, Civia called the remainder of the DA and the veterans of the Battle of Hogwarts to the Room of Requirement.

For the occasion, the room had provided a vast and comfortable hall, filled with couches and chairs and sofas, pillows and cushions everywhere.

Civia had even asked the house elves to provide hot chocolate for herself and the students, who trickled in nervously, usually in pairs and groups, as they anxiously glanced around to see who was present and to postulate their purpose for being called there that evening.

She greeted them all as they came in, welcoming them to the couches and cushions and hot chocolate while they waited for everyone to arrive.

Draco was the last to arrive, trailing in hesitantly, as if uncertain he was welcome. The Slytherin stood alone in the corner, waiting, and Civia felt an immense pity welling up inside her at the sight of the lonely young man.

She decided then and there to talk to the boy privately.

"Hello?" she called to the students, who quickly quieted to hear her. "Hello, everyone.

"You've probably wondered why I called you all here tonight," she chuckled. "And Im sorry for the, well, the mystery about it all.

"I called you all here because you all participated, in some manner or another, in the Battle of Hogwarts or other battles and skirmishes during the war against V-Voldemort. It has come to my attention that Calming Draughts, Dreamless Sleep, and other potions have been used from the Infirmary in surprising numbers…and I know why, perhaps better than any of you think.

"Life after war is not easy. During it, you think—if I can just get to the end of this war, if I can just live to see it's end, I'll be happy and able to get on with the rest of my life. But you can't. You can't get on with your life like nothing happened, because things did happen. To all of us.

"And the mind is sometimes the most difficult thing to heal.

"So consider this…a possible treatment. Every Thursday night, from now on, I will be holding these meetings here in the Room of Requirement after dinner, for anyone who wishes to attend.

"We will talk—talk about what happened, talk about how we felt about it, how we feel about it, and how we can try to move on.

"I can't promise it will work, or that it will help at all, but…we can try.

"Besides, you might hear some wicked stories. Who knows.

"Anyone care to share first, or shall I?"

Silence.

She hummed. "Well, I'm beginning to think you all showed up just in hopes of hearing some stories about the war from one of the spies of Hogwarts."

This time, chuckles echoed in the vast hall, and she smiled softly.

"Alright, I'll start.

"When I was in fifth year, Voldemort was just coming to power, and I knew things would not end without violence, which was only just beginning to start. I knew who was likely to join his Death Eaters, if they hadn't already. I knew a lot, just from watching the Slytherins and Ravenclaws.

"Oh yes, Ravenclaws too. It wasn't always so Slytherin-exclusive, you know. I was a Ravenclaw myself, you know.

"…Merlin, it seems so long ago," she murmured to herself, before clearing her throat and continuing. "Anyways…I was in my fifth year, barely sixteen, when I seduced my first Death Eater."

Again, silence. This time, with many, many furtive glances exchanged therein.

"Oh, yes, you heard correct. Now if this ends up in the Prophet, you won't hear anymore from me—and this is literally the beginning of my story as a spy…

"He was engaged at the time, you see, and had recently graduated, so we didn't see each other often. But he paid me a favor and introduced me to Voldemort, who gave me the task of infiltrating Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. I accepted the task, and the Dark Mark that night.

"I went to Professor Dumbledore as soon as I returned to school…and that, I think, is where I will stop for tonight. On that story at least.

"As for something to get us going…well. I still have nightmares. Every night. I can't remember what it's like to sleep peacefully without a potion. I have silencing charms on my chambers to keep in the screams when I do have nightmares. I remember all I've done, all I've seen…and I know I'll never forget. I can only learn to live with the past and accept it."

Hermione Granger raised a nervous hand.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I have nightmares too," she began hesitantly. "Mostly about when Bellatrix Lestrange had captured Harry, Ron, and I. She thought we had broken into her Gringotts vault, and she tortured me."

The room was silent, and Draco in the corner was as pale as Death herself.

"Sometimes…sometimes I think this is all a dream, and I'm just going to wake up back under her knife."

It went on.


Civia returned, physically and emotionally exhausted, to her shared chambers to find Severus reading in the sitting room. "How did it go?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, Severus," she sighed. "Those poor children. They've lived through so much, but they're so young still."

He stood, coming to her side, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Children are resilient, Civia. They will recover, eventually. They just need time, and you are providing a valuable resource in this….group therapy."

She smiled up to him. "Thank you, Severus," she murmured. "Now I think I'm going to shower and go to bed. Good night."

"Good night."