I do not own Harry Potter.

Since Regulus's death 6th months ago, the Dark Lord had been tighter in his attentions to his Death Eaters and their potential inside sources. Bellatrix had reported to him Regulus's moment of traitorism, and he suspected many might fall on the same path. He commanded his followers to keep their marks concealed at all times, even to each other, to never speak, even in passing, on Death Eater business outside of the meeting circle, and to even keep their hoods up so that they could not recognize each other- so if one became a spy, the names could not be reported. He was particularly suspicious of those with bloodtraitor relations, like Bartemius Crouch, Jr., or Peter Pettigrew, who had been a Gryffindor.

Bartemius sensed the distrust and, in indignation, only worked harder to prove his worth to his master. He worked hard at his spells, and started prying through his dad's business to gather information that might be of use to the Dark Lord. Peter, too, as well as continuing his spying business, worked hard on improving his only mediocre magical abilities. He discovered, however, to his surprise, that he was more gifted than he had imagined; back in school he had only been lazy, for his friends had always done the work for him.

The real spy walked free.

Severus Snape had worked very hard to keep from appearing suspicious, and it had worked. The Death Eaters he had formerly gone to school with could vie that he was very loyal to the cause. They had seen his fascination with the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, how he got top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts and would plead with the teachers to let him look at Dark Arts books in the Restricted Section under the pretense of "studying what I should be learning to defend myself from" and instead only practicing illicit hexes and ignoring their counters. He had been personally persecuted by many of the Order's members during his schooldays, and the grudges he bore then still remained firm in his photographic memory that was of such good use to him in his studies. He also possessed an enthusiasm peculiar to his class.

Severus Snape was not from a reputable pureblood family. The Snapes were not rich, and had not been of high title in centuries- perhaps back in the medieval Muggle-Wizard wars, but not since. In the latest generation, things had only gotten worse. Severus's parents- who had been married in the usual customary matched marriage- did not get along, nor did they attempt to. It possibly had something to do with the Snape residence not being as extensive as the Lestranges' or Malfoys' or Blacks', so the two couldn't simply live as if separate. No- Severus's earliest memories were of their rows, and, one, most vivid, of the day his father walked out, leaving him alone with his mother. He convinced himself that Septimus Snape had committed suicide, since he never wrote- and he didn't want to believe his own father had truly abandoned him.

This left him in a very awkward position. In the conservative pureblood society, single and working women were frowned upon. Though marriages were often unhappy, only the degenerate actually separated. It was a reflection of Mrs. Snape's bad character that her husband had left her. No one in high pureblood society would offer her a job- and it was shame enough that she needed one- so she was reduced to humbling herself and asking for work from the bloodtraitor families and Muggle-born offspring, the very types she had looked down her high-bridged nose at earlier in her life. They, of course, were not very pitying.

The other purebloods in Slytherin knew Severus's circumstances, and he was embarrassed about them. He had only one comfort- that he was pureblood, and in Slytherin. He may have been the dregs of pureblood society, poor with a single mother, but at least he was pureblood. The Potters, the Bones, even the Weasleys, were richer than the Snapes, but they had remained true to their pureblooded line and were therefore superior.

So, when he had first joined the Death Eaters, Severus's motives had been highly pure. He was not in it to preserve a manor as Lucius or Rodolphus might, he was in it for the pure glorification of pure blood. He was seeking the superiority he had never felt, even in his own House- teased for his poor background- or anywhere in the school- where he was teased for his greasiness and hooked nose.

No one ever suspected such a vengeful, intent follower would spring betrayal.

Yet something had happened to Severus after he joined up. He had been tormented in all different fashions, so it made perfect sense he wanted revenge. However, his group only tormented others. They would want revenge, and, if his side lost, he would only face his fears again. The cycle had to stop. He realized the Order wasn't anti-pureblood- it was anti-prejudice. He could belong, and stop the elitism.

Besides, pure blood really didn't matter all that much to him. It had just been his one semblance of superiority. It didn't bother him that there were Muggle-borns in the school. Marrying into them stopped the cycle of inbreeding becoming too common in the diminishing pureblood families. He had even considered it himself once. Everyone knew, of course, about his small crush on Lily Evans. It had embarrassed her, and she married James Potter, so it was over, but Severus couldn't rid himself of fondness for her. He hadn't expected anything to come of it. He had been defensive even in his schooldays, refusing to admit he would tolerate it. In truth, he did fully. He tolerated everyone- all of his pureblooded elitism was fake. He was more of the Order mindset.

The awkward part was getting out of the Death Eaters.

He couldn't do it, of course, so he kept up his brainwashed, propaganda-fed front. He was devoted, he wanted to kill James Potter and Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, first for bullying him in school, then for going the step further and wanting to corrupt his pure blood. He wanted to kill that trampy Lily Evans, the Muggle-born who had seduced him, trying to corrupt his bloodline. He wanted reparations for the dishonored Snape line, which had been diminished by the entry of Muggle-borns into their world.

In the end, he had even gotten past his feelings for James- at least enough to save his son. It was he who had tipped Dumbledore off when the Death Eaters had discovered the prophecy. It had disgusted him, helping out his greatest enemy, and he wondering if he was doing the right thing, risking everything he had gained for one he hated most, but then he remembered that the child was also Lily's.

At least now the worst was over.

Severus returned repeatedly to Dumbledore's office under the pretense of interviewing for a position as teacher in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The present teacher was considering retirement, so it was not suspicious in the least. The Dark Lord supported it, of course; if Severus worked in Hogwarts, the last guarded frontier would be his. He could infiltrate his greatest enemy's own territory, and Severus could indoctrinate the students with Dark Arts and pro-pureblood propaganda instead of the syllabus.

Secretly, Severus hoped he could get the position. He presently had no job, and, unlike the rest of the Death Eaters, had no great estate to lean back on. With his Dark Arts expertise, he could teach the children very valuable information. Just in case, he also applied for the Potions post, for he had received an O on his Potions OWL and was the top placer in the Potions NEWT format. That, however, was simply because he needed the job.

"I've finished my application," Severus handed Dumbledore the paper the day it was due in January. He handed it over to him and said softly. "Look into Mulciber in the McKinnon case. He always worked closely with Wilkes."

"You need not speak so softly, Severus," Dumbledore said accommodatingly. "My office is very well-protected."

"So is the Department of Mysteries, but the Dark Lord has managed to enter it twice."

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Yes, but there is no one else working here. Unless Fawkes bears some odd loyalty to his tail feathers that might permit him to return to Lord Voldemort." Severus shuddered at the sound of the name, but then stiffened, trying to hide that he had.

Fawkes, as if in response, arched his neck and poked his scarlet beak into his back feathers. Then, very purposefully, he plucked the longest one out and took a step towards Dumbledore, peering up at him expectantly, willing him to take it.

Dumbledore did, but very slowly. "How very peculiar," he whispered, marveling at the red feather between his fingers. He looked up and noted Severus's confused expression. "As you may very well know, through the information I have given you about the Order and the nature of phoenixes . . . a phoenix will only offer its feathers once for wand-making. It must offer a single feather to a wizard once, and it must be offered- to take a feather is to destroy its magical properties. They rarely- if not ever- offer two." He looked up through his half-moon spectacles at Severus, "And you know well he has already given one." He turned back to Fawkes. "You're sure about this?"

Fawkes cocked his head to the side and shrieked in reassurance.

"Very well," replied Dumbledore, as if he understood. He laid the feather down on the table. "I'll have that sent into Ollivander's. No doubt he'll find it positively intriguing." He folded his hands, back to business. "Mulciber? Ah, I believe we have his two daughters here at Hogwarts presently. Do you really think it wise, Severus, to submit his name to the Aurors, when you know what they will do to him? I can't see Medea and Gwendolyn being too keen on their studies if their father were murdered. Pity, this war, the way it's gone. I believe we ought to leave Mr. Mulciber alone, unless he takes further action, for his daughters' sake."

Severus raised his eyebrows, but did not reply. Dumbledore considered personal repercussions much more closely than the average Order member.

There was a knock at the door. "I better go," Severus said quietly. He lifted his volume, just in case it was a child of a Death Eater- such as Medea or Gwendolyn- and spoke again. "So you'll look that over, then? I'll return in three weeks for the next step of the interview."

He opened the door to go out and found himself nearly blockaded by a sea of red-headed children. Molly Weasley stood at the fore, an infant boy with a shock of red hair in her arms. Around the woman's waist was wound a length of red cord, which, attached on either end, trailing behind, were twin redheaded boys about three years of age, busying themselves with poking one another's noses. A pensive five-year-old watched them disapprovingly. The two eldest, one looking about eight or nine and the other Hogwarts age, stood in furthest back, chatting about the amazing ceiling in the Great Hall.

Severus sidestepped around them, watching them carefully. The twins looked up at him, and one noticed his large nose and began to chortle, covering his own so his brother could stop poking it. Severus frowned and continued towards the stairs.

"Sorry I had to bring all the children," Molly Weasley apologized. "Arthur had work, after all. I came about the financial support . . . ?" she trailed off, blushing a little.

"Of course, of course. Bring everyone in. I daresay they'll find something to amuse themselves," Dumbledore beckoned all eight inside.

The nine-year-old and five-year-old took off for the gleaming silver instruments, and the twins attempted to follow, each only receiving a great tug at their waists when their ropes did not reach. They commenced tugging at them unsuccessfully. One finally removed his shoe and flung it at his older brother in frustration. He missed, and lost his shoe.

"Bill Weasley?" Dumbledore asked the oldest. The oldest boy came forward proudly. "You'll be starting the fall? You'll do fine, I'm sure." He looked up at Mrs. Weasley. "Hogwarts is able to take in plenty of children on reduced tuition, due to the plentiful donations we get from some families."

Molly sighed, "They probably give it you hoping it will bribe you to keep out people like us, not fund our way through school."

"Well, if I didn't, who would I give it to? I can't think of anyone more deserving."

Molly blushed again. "Oh, Ron, don't do that!"

The boy in her arms had leaned down towards the desk and snatched up the bright phoenix feather. He now had it in his mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop.

Dumbledore smiled. "Oh, quite alright. I've never heard of baby spit having an adverse effects on wand quality."

Sorry, that just gives me a big kick . . . Harry's wand has Ron's spit in it . . .

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everybody that's reviewed! Even more thanks to everybody that reviews more than once! I like you devoted readers! Glows

TBC . . .