Author's note: Sorry for the delay again. I'm working on a short story, which usually takes up more of my writing time than I intend. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please review!

Guest: Thank you! I imagine that he does just go through a lot of temporary passwords. It gives some extra security, and it makes his desired password less risky. And it isn't obvious since I never addressed the issue directly, but Lily is his second permanent password, since he changed it after Neville and Ginny tried to steal the Sword. His first password, before he started using temporary ones, was probably something less conspicuous. I do have a rough sketch of an epilogue! I love writing this, so I imagine that I will do some one-shots in the same style, highlighting important events from the previous books. I certainly have enough ideas for that. I would have loved to do the full seven years if I'd known it would be such a fun project, but at this point it seems a bit odd to go back and do 1-6 after doing 7?

Thomasahagney: Thank you! I certainly have no plans to abandon this story.

Warnings: Implied torture

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Dumbledore's Army

The Longbottom boy, for whatever reason, followed Severus's strange, quasi-threat, parting instructions without a fuss; rumours were quick to spread through the castle, students speculating about what had really happened to "poor Nev"—Longbottom had apparently gone from being an awkward wallflower to being a much-loved member of the student body—in the Headmaster's office. The consensus was that it had been something ghastly, no doubt, because he wouldn't speak of it. Thankfully, the Carows seemed to reach the same conclusion, for Severus had not been accosted by angry twins demanding the harsh chastisement of a particular Gryffindor. This was good for all involved.

A few days following his conference with the seventh-year, Severus was in his usual place, hidden away in his office, when Dumbledore piped up. The chosen topic was seemingly random—who knew how the man got from Thought A to Thought B—and the old codger sounded annoyingly chipper. "You know," he began with faux casualty, which in itself made Severus suspicious, "you should get your portrait commissioned soon."

Severus immediately stopped what he was doing, but he didn't look up or turn around. "Oh?" he said in acknowledgement, raising an eyebrow, even though Dumbledore couldn't see it.

"All of the Hogwarts Headmasters get their portrait hung up here after they die." Given that it was the portrait of a former Headmaster who was speaking, this statement sounded especially ridiculous. And yet, he spoke as though he were revealing the answer to some great mystery. His apparent sincerity—which Severus would have said was just a tool for manipulation—earned some giggles from the other portraits, on whom the irony was not lost.

The current Headmaster cut in acerbically: "Yes, alas, I am forced to tolerate you even after I have murdered you."

"It was a favour, not murder," Dumbledore corrected, ignoring the implied insult, "but that is beside the point. You see, in current times, it is best not to put things off for too long. You really should get your portrait commissioned soon."

There was a beat of silence, during which Severus pinched the bridge of his nose with two long, slender fingers. He could feel a migraine coming on.

"Albus," he said sternly, "no lucid person would want a portrait of me in the office—or anywhere—and no lucid person would go to the effort of animating said portrait. It is more likely that they would use it to start a bonfire; so, no. I will not be having my portrait commissioned, not now and not in the future. Do you honesty think that my legacy as a Death Eater is something to be preserved? What other suggestions are rattling around in that acrylic skull of yours? Should I get a frame engraved with the words, 'Most Corrupt Headmaster,' or perhaps a plaque that could be hung below it? No, I am quite content to not leave a reminder of that."

"You are too hard on yourself, my boy."

Now Severus looked back, pinning his former mentor with a glare. That statement was too foolish to warrant a response, he decided as he returned to the letter he had been scanning, an angry message from a parent who had the nerve to give him a talking-to. The silver lining was that at least it wasn't a Howler.

"I imagine that I will be out most of the night," he announced, less concerned with letting Dumbledore know of his evening plans and more concerned with changing the subject, although he knew that he was not off the hook. "The Carrows told me to uncover the reason for students disappearing from overnight detention. They did not say it so explicitly, but their intention was clear enough. It seems they are too pathetic to do it themselves."

"I wish you the best of luck."

Hmph. That did not deserve a verbal reply either.

Severus had been lurking in the drafty dungeon corridor for half the night now, Silenced and Disillusioned—they were staples in his spying toolbox—and so far, the most interesting thing to happen was one of the ghosts taking a shortcut through the walls. That had been an hour ago, and he was feeling terribly bored from being confined to the area. He had always enjoyed wandering the castle after curfew and catching wayward students out of bed—and taking points and, if the children got mouthy, assigning detentions—but he detested watch-and-wait tasks; he could never let his awareness dull, even when nothing of interest was going on—"constant vigilance," as the late Alastor Moody always preached—in which case he was highly attuned to a lot of nothing.

It was around three in the morning when Severus's efforts were finally rewarded with the sound of socked feet pattering on the stone floor, accompanied by hushed voices. He carefully crept forward in order to hear them better. They were arguing:

"…self into a martyr."

"That's not my goal. I just want to do this."

"You shouldn't have volunteered. Nobody would blame you if we turned back."

"We can't turn back, we're Gryffindors!" The footsteps had ceased, the destination apparently forgotten in favour of finishing the debate—or perhaps it was just that the first speaker was not allowing the second to proceed.

"Yes, and you were in big trouble with Snape just a few days ago."

"Snape can go to hell."

"I just don't want you to end up in St. Mungos because we were caught and you took the fall for both of us—no, you would, I know it—and they decided to hang you from the ceiling and Crucio you until you lost your mind." There was a pause. Then, in an apologetic rush, "Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry, Neville, I didn't think before I said that."

"It's okay."

"Honestly, I wasn't trying to-"

"Ginny, seriously, it's fine. But stop worrying, okay? This won't take us very long. There's only one student down there tonight, and we've done this several times, so it's not like we're doing this totally off the cuff or something." Another pause. "Besides, we have to do this because I was in trouble with Snape a few days ago. It'll show them that they can't scare us into line that easily."

The Weasley girl let out a frustrated huff, but she gave in, if the lack of further argument was any indication. The footsteps resumed. Severus felt a slight rush of air as they passed him by; although they, too, were Disillusioned, that did not exempt them from leaving aural cues. They did not seem to have discovered the many benefits of Silencing spells, the dunderheads. Severus had figured that one out right off the bat.

He followed the students down the hallway, to the door of the classroom-turned-torture room.

"Alohomora." The lock clicked open.

Severus shook his head at the meagre defences. He would certainly not trust the Carrows with protecting anything of consequence if that was how simply one could break in. On the other hand, the Philospher's Stone had been guarded by an elaborate obstacle course—designed by some of the most capable witches and wizards of their specialties, no less—and somehow three eleven-year-olds had gotten through it. At the time, he had written it off as a fluke, but the Trio had gone on to have a similar track record of success against the odds. He could only hope that they would pull off another nearly-impossible feat this year.

"Okay," Longbottom said quietly, "you know the drill. You have your coin, right?"

"Of course," Ginny replied with a smile in her voice. "I wouldn't be a member of Dumbledore's Army without it. Good luck."

"Thanks."

The door opened and Longbottom, presumably, went inside. He neglected to shut the door after entering, but that was probably intentional since Weasley didn't move to close it either. Not having to fumble with a doorknob would facilitate a quicker escape.

Severus moved closer, listening intently for the action within. He heard very faint whimpering and the clinking of metal chains. While the latter sound wouldn't have been too problematic under normal circumstances, in this delicate situation, it might as well have been a thunderclap; even the Carrows, dumb as they were, would recognize the noise as the giveaway that it was, should they be in the vicinity.

"Who's there?"

Speak of the devil, Severus thought, cursing under his breath. Making a split-second decision, he strode forward, canceling his charms and revealing himself. He could feel Weasley practically vibrating with panic, her fears of discovery suddenly much closer to fruition.

"Amycus," Severus said in greeting.

"Headmaster!" The male Carrow looked surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I am patrolling the halls," Severus replied coolly, speaking slightly slower than usual, in attempt to buy Longbottom and Weasley more time, "although I do not believe that it is your right to question where I go in my own school."

Amycus shrugged. "Just asking," he said, utterly unrepentant.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "You did want me to investigate the issue of disappearing students, did you not?"

"Oh, yes," the shorter wizard answered, nodding eagerly. "So what've you found?"

"I have been out all night and there has been minimal disturbance." Behind him, there was an infinitesimal rustling, like someone was cautiously putting one foot in front of the other. Amycus didn't appear to notice.

"Minimal?"

"Discounting appearances by Filch's cat, who can make quite the ruckus if it wishes."

Unfortunately, the lock clicking again could not be chalked up to the caretaker's furry companion, unless Mrs. Norris had suddenly grown opposable thumbs.

"There's someone there!" Amycus exclaimed, drawing his wand and rushing forward.

Severus bit back the urge to retort, Obviously. "Check the room," he ordered instead. "Whoever it is may be inside."

Amycus hastily proceeded to do so, which Severus found rather amusing. The Death Eater did not seem to realize that since the door hadn't actually opened, nobody had gone inside; nor did he seem to realize that the likelihood of somebody who was there already locking themselves in was practically nonexistent.

Severus hung about in the doorway, scowling ferociously, but otherwise doing nothing. The sound of three people running down the corridor reached his ears, dissipating as they put more distance between themselves and the danger.

Meanwhile, an incredibly distressed Amycus was circling the old classroom and poking at things with his wand, as though expecting to suddenly find something he'd missed before, or feel something that couldn't be seen by the naked eye. "It's empty!" He screeched. "Empty! Even that second-year that we locked in earlier today is gone!"

"Seeing as we just heard them, the miscreants cannot be too far away—especially as the dungeons are a vast labyrinth that is easy to get lost in if one does not know what one is doing," Severus said, much more calmly than his Deputy. "We will search for them. You go down that way." He pointed in the opposite direction of where the students had escaped.

Once his view of the Carrow twin had been swallowed by the gloom, Severus turned and walked away, feeling both relieved and exasperated.

Merlin, help me, he thought. The antics with which I must contend.