Edited 9/18/2012.
Beta'd by Jueru2003 9/18/2012.
Last chapter Kiran went to the market with the teen werewolves before going to gather flowers and roots for his potions with the werewolves the next day. Kiran learned that his daggers are likely poisoned and the twins learned that Kiran can speak to snakes. The group was then attacked by a wild boar; Nolan was killed and Kiran was pierced through the arm with the boar's tusk. Trystan killed the first boar only to be gored through the stomach by the second boar when it appeared. The chapter ended with the boar tossing Trystfan off her tusks and standing between the werewolves and Trystan's bleeding form.
==o0o==
Piercing the Veil
Warring Minds, Book 1
By Moirae Ma'at
==o0o==
Chapter 10: Bloody Hands
All the wolves shuddered and started a low keen as Trystan collapsed into the puddle of blood before they exploded into movement. It was likely that the goring had fatally injured Trystan and his harsh collision with the tree would not have helped matters. Nolan was beyond help, but they were going to do their best to make sure Trystan survived this encounter and the first step was getting that boar away from him.
Kiran heard Betony's low keen of pain at the sight of her Packmate's broken body as the healer latched onto Kiran's bag of herbs. Nolan had been a friend, but Trystan was her Tribe alpha in all but name.
Killian, on the other hand, went feral with grief and rage at the site of his blood brother's broken body. The usually silent werewolf flung his war hammer at the creature and attacked the wild sow with transformed claws and teeth. As far as the dark-haired male knew, Trystan was dead and the loss of his blood brother had driven Killian back to his wolf's feral instincts to destroy whatever stood in his path.
Diantha was a direct contrast to Killian's actions, expressing a cold calm that allowed her to stand back and harry the boar with arrow after arrow while she avoided hitting any of the wolves closing in on the injured boar. Even Kiran could hear her bow creak as the werewolf archer fired arrow after arrow at the boar with every ounce of her formidable strength.
The last arrow veered off course with a crack and almost hit one of the twins while they were doing some odd bait-and-switch with the wild sow. The two werewolves were slowly luring the animal away from Trystan's bloody body so that Betony – the only wolf in the group that knew anything about healing – could try and perform triage on the alpha.
Diantha looked down at the split bow in her hands and frowned before dropping the two halves to pull a set of matching hunting knives from her belt. The archer was careful to stand between the boar and Betony – and therefore Kiran – as the group of three inched their way towards Trystan.
As soon as the boar was occupied with fending off the other werewolves and it was safe to join the mortally injured werewolf, Betony rushed towards Trystan and took Kiran with her as the bag was still looped over his arm. She really only wanted the bag full of healing herbs he carried, but taking the human with her wouldn't be a bad thing; the arm that had been pierced with the male boar's tusk earlier was already healed and maybe he could do the same for Trystan. Anything she could use to help Trystan survive she would, even if she had to find a way to threaten him into action.
Betony tugged the bag from Kiran's hands as soon as they arrived and dropped to her knees to dig through it for herbs, yelling for Diantha to go get Syanth in hopes that the healer could arrive soon enough to help Trystan.
Kiran took one look at Diantha's rapidly vanishing form and placed himself squarely between the boar and the healer. The three of them were well-protected by Killian and the twins, but at least Kiran could provide a second layer of protection for Betony and Trystan.
Now that Betony had a closer look at the wound, she knew she couldn't do anything to help Trystan, but she was determined to at least try. She didn't think Kiran could do anything now for Trystan now, despite what he'd done earlier, but he could at least attempt something rather than just stand there like an idiot.
"Do something!" Betony hissed as she pulled more and more herbs out of the bag and started to strip the leaves to make something useful. At this point in time it wasn't like Kiran could do anything that could make the situation any worse, so he had no reason not to try.
"What do you want me to do?" the wizard asked as he looked over his shoulder at the healer. He knew absolutely nothing about the healing properties of herbs and couldn't even remotely be called an apprentice healer; what in the world was he supposed to do? Yes, he'd been practicing his potions lately, but he didn't have any of them on him right now and he'd never made anything that could be used on gaping wounds. Besides, Betony had already commandeered the herb satchel, so it wasn't like he could do anything on that front.
"The spell you used earlier; would it work on Trystan?" Crushed herbs were dumped onto the open flesh before Betony carefully began pushing some of the torn flesh together and trying to bind it closed.
"It won't do anything for a wound like this." As far as he knew, Episkey was for relatively small wounds – he'd been surprised when it worked on the hole in his arm – and Trystan's wound was anything but small.
"There must be something you can do," Betony yanked him down beside her with one hand as she tried to get another herb down Trystan's throat with the other. Maybe an oral application one would work better; the herbs on his wound certainly weren't doing Trystan any good. They'd already lost Nolan and they weren't going to lose another member of their small group if she could help it!
"I don't know any other healing spells." He'd never needed them before this – that was what Madam Pompfrey was for – and he'd barely read any of the books that talked about healing.
"Try something!" Betony pleaded as she tried to use bandages to stop the blood still seeping from Trystan's wounds. Syanth might be able to heal the large stomach wound, but if he died from blood loss before she could reach them then the whole point was moot.
Kiran simply sat there in a panic as he ran through every scrap of knowledge he knew about healing – which could barely fill a teaspoon, much less heal anyone – and the only spell he could come up with was Episkey. It hadn't worked on his wound earlier until he had ridiculously overpowered the spell – and in fact the spell had done something to his wand when he'd used it. It had felt like some type of splintering and Kiran wasn't sure what would happen if he used the spell again, but he'd try anyway. Hopefully his wand wouldn't break into pieces, but he couldn't not try and help the werewolf. Hermione had called it his 'saving people thing' and Kiran gave a wry smile at the memory before taking a deep breath and looking at Trystan's wound properly for the first time. He'd already caused one death today and he wasn't going to allow another to occur if he could help it.
Kiran settled down next to the two werewolves and powered up his wand to an absurd level before aiming it at Trystan's bloody form and releasing the spell. The light from Episkey had barely left his wand before the wood grew hot in his hand and something intangible seemed to break. The feeling shocked him into dropping his wand and he frowned as he bent to pick it up. That hadn't felt right and he didn't want to imagine what it meant. His holly wand had never been that hot, so it couldn't be anything good.
When Kiran picked up the fallen wand, the stick of rowan wood felt almost dead in his hand. This was going to be a problem. His new wand evidently didn't like casting healing spells and Kiran hoped he hadn't completely broken it. If he was now incompatible with two very different wands then there had to be something wrong with him, the wizard thought frantically.
To both teens' disappointment, the spell did very little to help Trystan – a few of the wound's rough edges seemed to extend inward a miniscule amount, but there was still a large hole pierced through Trystan's stomach that displayed his internal organs. Kiran tried twice more, but his wand barely reacted, simply giving off a few sputtering sparks as the puddle of blood around Trystan's inert body continued to spread.
"We're losing him," Betony whimpered as she tried to stem the blood flow and failed miserably. The herbs weren't doing anything and Kiran had just failed at whatever it was he'd attempted; Trystan was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it.
The mortally wounded wolf was approaching death faster by the second and there had to be something he could do to prevent it. Kiran wracked his mind for anything else he knew about healing and hazily remembered a spell he'd read in Healing for the Gifted.
The explanation had been rather brief; it was supposed to heal a person's body without much input from the wizard casting the spell – which was perfect because the teen had no idea what he was doing. Kiran didn't know if it would work on a person near death, but it was the only other spell he knew that had to do with healing. Now if he could only remember the incantation!
Salus, salveo, sanitas; it was san- something, blast it all, and he needed to figure out what!
Kiran took a deep breath. Okay, all the Latin Hermione had forced him to learn over the years had to be good for something other than school work. Sano meant heal, and considering the purpose of the spell, that was probably his best bet. He was pretty sure salus meant health or safety and he couldn't remember what the other words meant, so he probably shouldn't use them.
Kiran grabbed his wand tightly and pointed it at Trystan, muttering the short spell under his breath and hoping for the best. This was their last chance – Betony couldn't do anything for the other teen and Syanth wouldn't make it to the clearing in time. If everyone but Nolan – Merlin, he'd been a casualty like Cedric and he couldn't think of that now – got out of this alive he was going to make Remus teach him how to apparate, no excuses.
Apparition and then he'd look up some decent healing spells – he was never going to go through this again if he didn't have too. Nolan was irrevocably dead and whatever Betony hadn't collected earlier was trampled into a red mush underneath the boars' hooves. Kiran was not going to be responsible for another person's death just because he wanted to gather herbs.
Nothing in his wand reacted and Kiran's shoulders slumped in defeat as he dropped the piece of wood to the ground. A moment later he felt something stirring in his magic, but nothing was visible happened. He wanted Trystan to live – the older teen had been friendlier than expected and he thought they could have become close friends – but he didn't think the werewolf would be alive come nightfall. If only he knew how to heal…
The wizard felt the stirring in his magic strengthen in reaction to that thought and encouraged it as much as possible. When he was younger, most of his wounds had healed without medical assistance and this stirring felt like the time his broken arm had mysteriously healed overnight.
Kiran wasn't sure how to use the feeling to heal someone else, but he hoped that whatever was stirring in his magic would be able to help Trystan. Despite all the time he had spent organizing his magic, he had no idea how to manipulate the colored threads that made up his core or even what the colors actually meant. He could tie the strands in Celtic rope knot patterns and weave them in and out of each other without causing problems, but he had no idea how to actually use them.
The odd feeling grew and grew inside his magic and Kiran finally identified the feeling it gave him as the same warm glow he felt whenever he handled the green-gold strands in his core. The warmth grew larger and larger in his chest until the teen felt something break and the feeling slowly began to flow down his arms to form a shimmering green-gold glow around his hands.
Kiran looked down at his glowing hands, shocked that the strand's color had manifested so visibly, before cautiously moving them towards Trystan's motionless form. The teen watched as more and more particles of green-gold light left his hands to gather around the werewolf's wound until there was a veritable cloud of colored magic streaming off his hands to engulf Trystan's wound.
Ever so slowly the male werewolf's body began to repair itself under the green and gold glow as Betony watched in shock. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Trystan had been at the edge of death and there had been nothing either teen could do about it, but suddenly Kiran had gripped his wand tightly and whispered something under his breath. Nothing had happened for the first few moments, but after he dropped his wand, a green mist with shimmering gold hints had gathered in Kiran's empty hands before enveloping Trystan's wounds.
The wizard could feel himself getting tired as more and more of Trystan's wound healed under his magic, but the spell never seemed to stop. It just kept draining his magic until the edges of his vision began to blur and he was swaying in his seat. His hands were barely able to stay above Trystan's still-healing form and he could feel multiple hands on his shoulders holding him up and carefully supporting his shaking arms.
The moment Trystan's wound finally closed and all Kiran could see was clean skin, the teen tried to pull the green-gold magic back into his core. Trystan would be fine until Syanth arrived and Kiran had no idea what using that magic could do to him. He had never actually tried to use one of the strands before and now that he was, he couldn't seem to stop.
Kiran tried to reduce the magic leaving his core by thinning down the green strand, but the magic refused to do as he wished. An attempt to pull the strand back into his core yielded the same results, so the teen tried to wrestle the strand back to his core but it kept slipping out of his mental hands.
Despite his best efforts, the magic continued to stream off his hands and various cuts and scrapes across the werewolf's form slowly healed shut. Kiran finally gave up on getting the strand back inside his core and simply decided to cut it. The teen focused past his ever-increasing exhaustion and imagined one of his new serpent daggers cleaving through the gold-tinted green thread. Kiran felt a shock as the green-gold magic hovering around his hands suddenly disappeared and shivered as he tipped sideways.
They never mentioned this in the book, the wizard though hazily right before the black encroaching on the edges of his vision took over and he lost consciousness.
.~.~.~.
"There's been some pretty bad weather lately," Molly complained as she bustled back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room table with pots of tea and platters of small foods.
"Nothing compared the storm at the Ministry," Arthur replied as he reached for a cup of tea.
"You heard about why Fudge really resigned, right?" Elphias Doge pulled back a chair and sat down.
"Who hasn't?" Hestia Jones settled into another chair and poured herself a cup. "Skeeter made it front page news when the Brockdale Bridge went down."
"Voldemort wanted Fudge out of office," Doge agreed grimly, "and used his Death Eaters to get what he wanted like always, damn the casualties."
"How bad was it?"
"At least three wizards died and it took the Ministry over three hours to respond." Arthur refilled his tea and took a bracing sip. "Scrimgeour got the Aurors out as soon as someone reported it, but it took more power than he had at the time to authorize such a massive use of Obliviators. Took the Ministry a full six hours to mobilize and they had to use some pretty complex magic to figure out where all the Muggles that had seen the Death Eaters had disappeared to."
"Think Scrimgeour'll be any better?"
"He's already taken a hard line, but he might be a lil' too enthusiastic, if ya know what I mean," Mundungus Fletcher complained as he slumped in a chair across the way. "Nobody's willin' to make a proper deal now."
"Not to mention our new Minister was asking Kingsley and me some rather pointed questions before he was appointed," Tonks added as she entered the room and managed to trip over a chair and somehow land in it sideways.
"At least Fudge listened to Dumbledore." Hestia pointedly crossed her legs and took a delicate sip of tea. "Scrimgeour seems to hate him."
"Fudge listened to whoever had the most influence or money at the time," Doge interjected with a scowl, "usually Lucius Malfoy."
"Damn Death Eater," Moody muttered from a corner before taking a slip from his flask. "Shoulda used lethal force in the Department of Mysteries."
"Now, now, Alastor, lethal force is never an option," Dumbledore scolded gently as he swept into the room.
"Albus, your robes are all sooty!" Molly exclaimed as soon as she got a good look at the Headmaster. "Whatever happened?"
"The Bones Mansion was attacked hours ago by Voldemort," Shacklebolt announced as he strode into the room, ash falling from the hem of his robes with every step.
Dumbledore suppressed a frown at the Auror's entrance. He had intended to spin the entire affair in his favor. Best to proceed before Kingsley revealed something untoward.
"Luckily Amelia and her niece managed to avoid the confrontation as they were at a last-minute armor fitting for Susan." Dumbledore beamed at the room. "Amelia was worried about the dear child and insisted she have proper protection outside the Mansion's wards."
"The Bones Mansion was razed to the ground when Voldemort failed to find his intended victims," Kingsley added dryly. Trust Dumbledore to forget about the collateral damage in favor of his 'greater good.'
"Pretty big temper tantrum," Tonks muttered to her superior as Molly went about pushing tea and food towards Dumbledore.
"Pretty big child," Moody interjected as he settled into the corner behind the two Aurors and both turned to face him in surprise. "You need to pay more attention to your surroundings. CONSTANT VIGILENCE!"
The entire room startled at Moody's well-known catch-phrase, several Order members slipping their wands out of holsters and turning to point them at Moody's corner.
"Now, now, ladies and gentlemen, no worries," Dumbledore scolded gently. Some of them were a little slow in drawing their wands, but then again, his Order was meant for something more than mere frontline fighting like Ministry Aurors. "I believe it's time to start this meeting,"
Albus looked around the room, checking to make sure all of his Order members were present, but had to repress a frown when he found one missing.
"Has anyone seen Emmeline?" Dumbledore queried gently. "It's unlike her to be late."
"Emmeline Vance is dead." Shacklebolt frowned. "She was killed near the office of the Muggle Prime Minister and three days later we discovered a Muggle Junior Minister with a bad reaction to Imperius. He still thinks he's a duck."
"Pity about the poor man." Molly refilled everyone's tea. "The casualties just keep mounting."
Hestia took a delicate bite from a scone. "I take it you'll be replacing him?"
Kingsley nodded. "Voldemort could cause untold damage if he took over the Muggle government. There's a position as the Minister's secretary that's been open for two weeks now. The change in Ministers has thrown everyone a little off track lately; I was supposed to start three days ago."
"You should be able to pass as a Muggle easily!" Arthur nearly dropped his teacup in his excitement. "When you get back you must tell me how those felly-tones and bat-ries and cop-yurs and com-pew-tehs and, and – "
Molly patted her husband on the arm to quiet his enthusiasm. "I'm sure he'll be glad to speak with you later, dear."
Kingsley nodded and shot Molly a thankful glance. "I don't know when the assignment will end, but when it does I'll be happy to answer your questions on Muggle electronics."
"I'm sure everyone's anxious to hear about Harry," Dumbledore interjected with a grandfatherly smile, purposely ignoring Snape's frown. The feelings of his chess pieces had no bearing on his plans unless it was to his benefit.
"The Dursleys moved to Canada this spring and were kind enough to leave Harry with a fellow wizard so he could continue his education at Hogwarts this fall," Dumbledore gave a grandfatherly smile to the group; no need to tell them the truth about the Dursleys. "They claim a shabbily-dressed, amber-eyed man appeared on their way to the airport and they were pleased to allow Harry to stay with what appeared to be a family friend."
"Remus?" Tonks asked, her hair flashing a brilliant blue before returning to her favored pink. "Why would Remus have followed Harry?"
"Potter is pack," Severus sneered. "And of course the wolf's not here. Probably took the spoiled little brat for a vacation to get over the mutt's death."
"How could he take Harry away from the safety of Headquarters?" Molly wailed as Arthur patted her hand comfortingly. "The poor dear's in danger and should be safe behind proper wards to keep him away from You-Know-Who!"
"Remus wouldn't have taken him far given Voldemort's return," Albus said with a twinkle in his eye, merrily ignoring the flinch produced by Tom's chosen name. "I'm sure they've just been spending time in Diagon Alley reminiscing about Sirius under pseudonyms to keep Harry safe. They should be easy enough to find. We'll organize a search once the meeting is over."
"Severus," Dumbledore glanced at his spy and then inclined his head, "if you would."
"Two nights ago the Dark Lord summoned the entire host of his Death Eaters and proceeded to... express his displeasure at whatever stupidity Potter engaged in after destroying the Headmaster's office. He sequestered himself in his chambers for the first week after the event and spent the two weeks after fuming in his study and performing an unknown number of rituals."
The Potions Master paused for a moment before continuing. "It is known that Draco Malfoy was denied access to the Black Family Vault. The current Lord Black's identity is unknown, but he is high on Voldemort's hit list for declaring the Rites on the Death Eaters present at the Ministry that were involved in killing the mutt –"
"Don't call him that!" Tonks interjected angrily.
"I've been tasked with determining where Potter has hidden himself this time," Snape continued smoothly.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair with a grandfatherly smile. "Arthur, Molly, please make sure to keep a close eye on Ronald and Ginevra's mail; the Rites require equal and opposite compensation after all."
"Is there any chance Harry is Lord Black?" Molly asked as she squeezed her husband's hand. "Any chance at all?"
"The spoiled brat knows less than a flobberworm about proper Wizarding tradition," Snape sneered, "or he would have declared the Rites on Black the moment he was legal."
"Don't really think those would have taken," Moody drawled from the corner. "Wasn't Black's fault Lord Potter died. Voldemort would have been a better target."
"Any reason why we can't swear vengeance on the wanker?" Tonks queried as her hair turned a shimmering dark green and grew to reach her waist.
"The Rites must be enacted by the Lord of a House or an Heir who is of age." Snape gave a cold smile. "There is a reason the Dark Lord chose to wipe out entire Houses after all."
"And what, Families just weren't worth the effort?" Tonks' hair turned a brilliant, bloody red. Snape just flat out pissed her off.
"Given the Dark Lord's actions, it is also nigh impossible to fulfill the second requirement of the Rites." Severus continued coolly, ignoring the disowned Black. "An opposing force must be rewarded if the killer is to be punished in order to keep the balance of magic that the Rites require and the Dark Lord's first order of business was stomping out vigilante groups."
"Not like you didn't enjoy it," Moody responded as Dumbledore noticed the ex-Auror trade glances with Shacklebolt. Time for him to retake control of the situation before his group decided to argue about Severus' status once again.
"Now, now, Severus was cleared of any charges after the first war," Dumbledore scolded gently. "He works for the greater good."
Tonks' hair turned a light-absorbing black and pooled across the table and onto the floor at that statement, catching everyone's attention. Moody and Shacklebolt used the timely distraction to trade speculative glances before shifting their attention to the younger Auror's ever-growing hair.
"Nymphadora, please control your hair," the Headmaster admonished. If the girl wasn't an up-and-coming Auror prodigy despite her clumsiness, he never would have invited her into his Order. Andromeda was friendly enough and Nymphadora was useful, but the girl was almost more trouble than she was worth. She was old enough that she should know how to control her hair by now.
"Don't call me that!" the metamorphagus hissed as her hair returned to its normal color and length.
"We need to decide which parts of the Alleys need to be searched and who will be making inquiries," Dumbledore continued smoothly.
"I have some friends that run hotels in the more reputable Alleys," Hestia volunteered as she set down her teacup carefully. "I am due for a visit soon; a few careful enquiries wouldn't be out of order."
"We can always pick up the children's school things early," Molly added with a smile. "Strangers are always obvious when they shop."
"Wonderful," Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile. "I'll send you the list later today. Anyone else?"
"I'll be happy to take Knockturn," Mundungus said with a leer. "Maybe I'll finally get 'round to makin' some good deals again."
"I'm overdue at the taverns," Doge said as turned towards Tonks. "And I'm sure the little missy here'd be able to ask around Diagon proper without too much trouble given her talents."
The metamorphagus glared at the older man. "If I'm not on the clock, asking around shouldn't be a problem."
"I should be able to check the Registry before I leave tomorrow," Kingsley volunteered with a pointed look at the pink-haired Auror. "Tonks can bring the results to the next meeting."
"And, Molly, maybe William could make some inquiries at work about the Black inheritance?" the Headmaster suggested gently. "Surely some goblin handled the vault transfer."
"I'm sure that won't be a problem," Molly assured as she poured Arthur another cup of tea.
"Very well," Dumbledore nodded as he rose to his feet. "Please be careful not to advertise who you're looking for; we don't want to put Harry into any more danger."
Albus swept out of the room grandly, Severus following at his heels. The dark-haired man never disclosed the more secretive matters unless they were in a secure location away from the Order. A quick stop at the fireplace for the floo and both wizards were firmly ensorcelled in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.
"Another initiation, my dear boy?" Albus asked as he settled into his chair and offered Severus the bowl of lemon drops. Severus hadn't shown signs of Cruciatus and his robes had been suspiciously flecked with blood during his report after the meeting.
Snape declined the candy with a scowl and sat straight in his chair. "Entwhistle, Higgins, Hopkins, Montague, Bole, Derrick, Warrington, Bulstrode, Parkinson, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott."
"So many young students," Dumbledore sighed mournfully to disguise his glee. So many new possibilities for spies that could easily be blamed or discarded. Severus was too useful for him to lose, but newly-initiated members could be easily discarded if problems arose. It was a pity they were still students, and he'd have to keep an eye on them in case they had private orders, but chess pieces were made to be deployed and destroyed by greater minds.
"Malfoy has been assigned to find and kill the current Lord Black," Snape began. No need to tell Dumbledore about his godson's second task, the one he had given a wizard's oath to Narcissa to complete if Draco couldn't: forcing Dumbledore to reveal the location of Potter and determining what the blasted brat had done to debilitate the Dark Lord. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been in a towering rage about whatever Potter had done and it was highly unlikely Dumbledore wouldn't make it his own top priority to relocate his chess piece and determine what the brat had done while he was off his leash. "It looked like the Dark Lord was going to give him a different assignment, but he changed his mind at the last minute. Parkinson and Nott are to support him in his efforts."
"See what you can do to sabotage his efforts on that front until Lord Black declares his stance on the war." The Rites could be attributed to pureblood culture, but he needed a clearer indication of the new Lord's allegiance before advocating the death of another Black. Sirius had kindly removed himself from the picture at the Department of Mysteries and he couldn't afford to have a dark or even neutral relative alive to influence Harry when they found the boy again. Not to mention the way another neutral vote in the Wizengamot could derail his plans. They could prove Draco killed this Lord Black easily enough and then the Black vote would once more be in his hands when Harry assumed the Lordship.
"I assume you've made Sealg Fuil before?" Dumbledore asked absently as he popped another lemon drop in his mouth. The potion was vital to calling the Red Hunt. "I'll need a batch within the next week."
"It takes five days to brew," Snape responded with a frown. That was a rather dark potion that had been declared illegal by the Ministry decades ago due to the Blood Magic required to make it function and the Dark rituals that had made it famous.
"Add the ingredients to your usual order and Hogwarts will handle the rush fee," the Headmaster dismissed idly. "I'll also need a stabilized Titan's Draught within the month."
The draught would simplify the creation of the Potter golem he needed to substitute for the misguided boy. There were several other uses for the potion, but the entire point of having a private Potions Master on call was to take care of the time-consuming steps he didn't care to do himself. Severus could investigate all he wanted, but the chance of him determining that the Titan's Draught was intended for the ritual of Prometheus' Touch was miniscule; Albus himself had only found it in an old journal after several years of searching. He had then proceeded to find and destroy every other copy of the process in order to ensure his exclusive use of the ritual. He'd had plenty of practice over the years and that particular foray hadn't been difficult at all. Epimetheus' Blessing had been much harder, for all that it was a ritual that required little preparation in comparison.
Severus nodded with his usual scowl before standing and walking towards the door.
"You'll be teaching DADA this year," Dumbledore said calmly as Severus laid a hand on the door handle. "Slughorn agreed to teach Potions."
Snape's hand convulsed on the metal, but he blocked Dumbledore from seeing the motion with his body. "I'll need my private labs for the potion."
Dumbledore waved his hand negligently. "He'll be in the old Potion Professor's quarters. The house elves will be happy to air them out before he arrives in a few weeks."
Snape nodded and exited the room, lips pressed together in a scowl and robes billowing about his form. Albus had finally taken his obsession with the 'greater good' too far for him to stand. The differences between Albus and the Dark Lord were decreasing by the day and Severus was a survivor before anything else; it was time he re-evaluated his position in this war.
==o0o==
Author's Note: I sent PMs to my reviewers (or at least I tried). I'm pretty sure I replied twice to some people and might have missed others (probably Ch 7 because it was a long time ago). My apologies if I didn't get reply to your review. If you've still got a question or what I said didn't make sense, then drop me a line in a review or PM. Thanks for all your comments!
This chapter is up so promptly because I've had the first half written for over two years, but had to wait until I reached Ch 10 to post it. Here's to hoping the next chapter comes out within a reasonable time period.
Just so everyone knows, I try to italicize non-English words (Spanish, Latin, Gaelic, Japanese, French, Norse, and whatever other languages I happen to end up using in the course of writing PtV).