Once, there was a man who almost got what he wanted. Severus sighed softly as he watched Aislinn walk from the room, her robes and toiletries clutched in her arms. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so peacefully as he had last night, and while the cynic in him insisted it was because of the wine (which, incidentally, had done nothing to erase his memory, it seemed) there was a less familiar voice that suggested it had been the woman who had been curled up beside him, her arms around him. He hadn't slept in anyone's arms since he was a small child and his mother had comforted him when he had nightmares.

She was gone, though, and if he was being allowed to linger in her bed for a few moments, Severus didn't think that the price would come cheap. As it happened, he was right. As soon as the two women had left the room, Dumbledore closed the door and Severus heard the lock slip firmly into place, wishing he could at least have had until the afternoon before he had to report on all this. At least until his head stopped pounding. And whose fault is it that your head is pounding?

Dumbledore walked to the bedside and, with a wave of his wand, conjured a comfortably padded chair covered in chintz. Sinking into it, the older wizard watched silently for a moment, and Severus met his silence with silence of his own.

"That's a vicious-looking cut you have, my boy." It was Dumbledore who broke the silence.

Severus lifted a hand to his head and winced. "In all honesty, I didn't even realize it was there until Aislinn started trying to clean it," he replied truthfully.

Dumbledore nodded. "It must have been quite a night for you not to have noticed it."

"Yes, it was that." Severus closed his eyes for a moment, but was only rewarded by images he didn't particularly want to see again, so he opened his eyes again and focused his attention instead on a painting on the wall.

"When were you summoned?" It didn't surprise Severus for a moment that Dumbledore knew.

"Not long after classes ended. I left immediately."

"And what did Voldemort want from you this time?"

If Severus winced at hearing that name, it was a brief reaction. A reaction quickly replaced by a sneer. "Proof of my loyalty," he said softly. "It seems I have found excuses too often of late." And he had. Legitimate excuses, of course, but excuses. The Dark Lord did not care that he could not Disapparate from the middle of a Potions class. The Dark Lord was not interested in term finals.

"I see. So this time…"

"This time he chose a time when I could make no excuses. After classes, before dinner. At a time that was uniquely mine to spend as I wished, and the Dark Lord wanted proof I wished to spend it in his service. I traveled by Floo Powder to Knockturn Alley, then Apparated to his side." Severus twitched involuntarily. "Even the small delay of a detour to Knockturn Alley was apparently too much to tolerate."

Dumbledore looked as though he were going to ask something more, but seemed to change his mind. A fact for which Severus was most grateful, as he had no desire to relive the pain of Cruciatus through the telling of that story. "And can you tell me what he required of you?"

Severus always appreciated the way Dumbledore phrased that question. Can you tell me… The Headmaster and head of the Order of the Phoenix accepted that there were things his double agent could not reveal, and kept an endearing degree of trust in Severus' judgement. Had it been anyone but Dumbledore, Severus likely would have tried to find a way to take advantage of that trust, but Severus had no desire to betray Dumbledore. "I'd rather not," he replied softly, trying to force the images from his mind again. "Suffice to say it was unpleasant for me, and that's nothing compared to what it was for that woman."

A hand slipped onto Severus' wrist, and the Death Eater glanced fleetingly at Dumbledore. "She is dead now?" Severus nodded silently, and Dumbledore squeezed his hand. "Then she is no longer in pain."

And that doesn't make it any more right, does it? And it doesn't clear my conscience at all.

"And Voldemort is convinced now?"

Severus winced again at that name. Merlin's beard, he wished Dumbledore wouldn't say it aloud like that. "I doubt it," he replied bitterly. "The Dark Lord is seldom easily convinced of anything. It would not surprise me to be summoned again in a few days' time."

Dumbledore nodded. "And when you came back, you…"

Severus winced again, but this time it was at his own stupidity. "I went to try and drown my memories with a bottle of Cabernet," he replied caustically. "And, when that failed, I doubled the dosage."

"Did it work?"

"Obviously not, as I just told you what happened." There was a quiet that descended between them, and for a couple of moments, Severus thought he would survive it unscathed, but as it happened, his conscience got the better of him. "I know I should have come straight to you," he said softly, "I just didn't think I could face another human face." It was as close as he would come to apologizing, but Dumbledore seemed to accept that.

"How many does this woman make, then?" the Headmaster asked.

"Nineteen," came the prompt reply, then he looked at Dumbledore. "And why do you ask? I always meant to ask you why you always asked that."

"Because, Severus, it is one of the few ways I can think of to remind you that you are still human. You remember all their faces, correct?" Severus nodded. "Good. You hold onto that, because if you ever forget, you are in a far greater danger than you have ever faced."

And how could I ever forget? Of course, he knew it was possible. Lucius Malfoy probably did not remember the faces of all those he had killed. Crabbe and Goyle certainly did not; Severus didn't give those two credit for enough brain cells for such a feat. Macnair… not likely. Perhaps the headmaster had a point. Wouldn't be the first time Albus Dumbledore was right about something. "You know," Severus ventured quietly, "it's one thing to kill someone I know would kill me. Someone who knows who I am, who would take exception to this mark on my arm. Someone who is a part of this war. But it's Muggles, Albus. And women and children half the time. Ones who don't even believe magic exists, and there is no point to it. Their deaths are in vain, for nothing more than a ritual of blood."

Dumbledore nodded and patted Severus' hand. "There is a concept of valor in the Muggle world," he began quietly, "that few witches or wizards would understand. Most Muggles, I believe, would die to save others. Do not think of them as senseless deaths, for they are not. If the death of one Muggle woman tonight means that tomorrow you can give us information to save a hundred more lives, then the one death was not in vain. She was a casualty, Severus, in a war she did not know was being waged."

Severus nodded, but he didn't feel particularly better about it.

"It is because of your information that we have been able to thwart Voldemort as often as we have. What you do is not in vain. Remember that, Severus, and distance yourself from it if you must. But hold onto what is still human, and never forget those victims. Never forget the men and women who have died at you hands, and never forget to feel for them. In the end, it will keep you sane." Dumbledore stood and glanced around.

"Comfortable as Aislinn's rooms are, I would suggest we move you to your own, and perhaps call the House Elves to come tidy up a bit?" Dumbledore suggested. Severus nodded, but reached for the headmaster's hand.

"I must tell you, first," he said softly. "Aislinn could not have helped but see this" he held up his arm, the Dark Mark burning black against his skin, "last night. Perhaps…"

Dumbledore nodded. "I will talk to her."

There was silence for a moment. "Are you going to adjust her memory?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "You are the one who has told me that she has a phenomenal memory, Severus. It is phenomenally difficult to erase a memory from one with a phenomenal memory."

Lovely. And while you're telling her about my involvement with the most hated and feared wizard the world knows, be sure to mention that I'm a murderer as well. And don't forget rapist; that should go over swimmingly. Oh, of course, and the torturing of Muggles and… Even his thoughts dried up at that point, and Severus could see the last of his hope slipping through his fingers. Hope you enjoyed a night unconscious in her arms, because that's as close as you're ever going to get, now.

The thoughts, though bitter, were likely true. That did not, however, mean that Severus couldn't find a measure of deceptive false hope to cling to. Then again, perhaps the fact that she did stay with you all night means something. You've underestimated her intelligence before, after all, don't fall into that trap again. She had ample opportunity to see the Mark on you arm, but she did not run screaming from you. And it isn't like you were in a position to do anything about it had she tried. So… Maybe…

Despite the small infusion of hope, Severus couldn't force himself to finish that thought either. He looked at Dumbledore again. "Could I convince you to let me talk to her instead?"

Dumbledore paused for a moment. "And what will you tell her, Severus?"

Severus snorted softly, and his mouth curved into a sneer. "As little as possible without lying to her. She deserves the truth, if for no other reason that unwittingly involving herself, but…" He trailed off. There were two possible ends to that thought, and Severus didn't like either. But the knowledge of what we're doing could be deadly to her. But the truth isn't something I want to think about, or to face. Let alone to share.

In a blinding example of why he made such an excellent Headmaster, Dumbledore nodded, seeming to understand what had not been spoken. "Do you want to speak with her alone, or shall I join you?"

Severus considered that for a long moment. A very long moment, weighing his options, but however he looked at them they came back to the same things: Dumbledore had a gift for putting people at ease, and for making positively anything sound reasonable, but this was Severus' battle, and if he were going to have any chance of escaping it (he didn't even let himself ponder the possibility of winning it), he was going to have to fight it himself. "I'll speak with her alone," he said finally, closing his eyes.

"Don't you go to sleep, Severus. We need to move you to your room, and then there are some things I need you to do for the Order."

Severus groaned inwardly. "Can't any of it wait until this afternoon?" he asked. "I have a headache that would split a mountain."

As soon as he'd said it, Severus could almost feel the older wizard smiling, and he could have spoken in unison with Dumbledore. "And whose fault is that? No, it can't wait. The only reason you're not in front of you classes today is that I would feel sorry for your students. No, you may go back to sleep until after breakfast, then I'll be up to talk to you." A glance at the clock told Severus that he had something on the order of two hours then.

Severus sighed and forced himself out of the bed. He shrugged into his shirt, and picked up the rest of his clothes and his boots and took a fistful of floo powder. "My rooms," he sighed into the fire as he stepped into the emerald flames, and emerged in his own austere rooms. A marked difference from the rooms he'd just left, but he didn't have the energy to concentrate on that just then. He dropped his things on the floor a few feet from the fireplace and stumbled to his bedroom, stripping and tumbling into bed, ignoring the caustic remarks from that blasted painting.

"Well," it was saying, "look what the cat dragged in."

Fifteen minutes after the final bell rang, Severus and Dumbledore were sitting in Dumbledore's office, waiting. The Headmaster had sent Aislinn a message earlier in the day, requesting that she meet with them directly after the end of classes, and, while Severus doubted she would have the nerve to actually ignore a summons from the Headmaster, he was beginning to grow slightly irked at the wait.

"Calm, Severus. You know as well as I do how busy the corridors are at the end of the day. It's hard enough to move two doors. She'll be here. Would you like a peppermint while we're waiting?" Severus scowled at the proffered bowl, and Dumbledore shrugged. ""I'll find your sweet tooth yet," he said, blue eyes twinkling.

Not bloody likely,Severus thought. He didn't have long to dwell on it, though, because there was a faint sound outside the anteroom to Dumbledore's office, announcing the movement of the spiraling staircase. Severus straightened and watched the door nervously. When Aislinn entered, his winced subconsciously; she looked almost like a walking corpse. That's right, he thought guiltily, she had even less sleep last night than you did, and she did not have the benefit of a day off from the students.

"Ah, Aislinn, thank you for coming." Dumbledore had stood, and, as an afterthought Severus stood as well while the Headmaster reached for Aislinn's hand.

"Of course," she murmured, her eyes darting curiously around the office, then settling and appearing to glow slightly. Is it possible that this is the first time she's been in here? Severus wondered. He glanced in the direction that her gaze had settled, and a smile nearly touched his lips. Ah, it appears she has found a reason to talk with Dumbledore until the small hours of the morning too. Maybe I should devote some time to learning a bit more about the stars, and she'd look at me like that.

Dumbledore was patting her hand. "I see you've taken interest in my astrolabe," he commented, and Aislinn was nodding.

"Fascinating collection," she said, sounding genuinely impressed. "My interest in divination began with astrology," she was saying, "and my interest in astrology began with an interest in the stars."

"Well, you will have to come up here some time when there is no pressing business so we can while away a few hours chatting about the moons of Saturn and the classification of Pluto."

Severus had never seen a child in a candy store, but he suddenly had the impression that he understood where the expression came from. "I'd love that!" she was saying, and there was a hint of laughter to her voice.

"For now, though, I think perhaps we'd best get down to less enjoyable business. Will you sit, Aislinn? And would you care for a peppermint?"

Aislinn sat in the proffered chair and took a peppermint, which she popped into her mouth without hesitation. Dumbledore offered the bowl to Severus again, and with a sigh akin to one of defeat, he took a mint. "Aislinn," he nodded.

She smiled at him, one of those broad, welcoming smiles she had, and he felt his heart lighten for a moment, even as he wondered how she managed to smile like that when she looked so tired she could fall over where she was. "Severus," she said brightly, "how are you feeling?"

He winced inwardly, but opted for putting the best face possible on the situation. "Like I've been dragged through an avalanche," he replied as lightly as he could, "and then dropped into a vat of cotton. I'll live."

She was still smiling. "I hope so," she replied, though not quite as lightly.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Very well, I see no reason to dodge the purpose of this meeting any more," he said, and Aislinn settled herself, leaning her elbow on one arm of the chair and crossing her legs at the knee. Severus' eyes were drawn to those stilted shoes she was wearing, and he found himself wondering yet again how she walked in them. It was a fleeting concern, though, as Dumbledore was continuing. "I'm sure you can imagine why I asked you to come, Aislinn?"

She frowned slightly. "I'm assuming it has something to do with last night?" she asked, and Severus nearly snorted. Queen of Understatement, aren't you?

"Yes," Dumbledore affirmed. "And specifically what you may have seen last night."

Something flickered across Aislinn's face, but she hid it quickly. "I saw nothing worthy of commenting on," she replied, and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Then you have a remarkable ability for blindness, Aislinn," Severus replied dryly.

She flashed him a dangerous look and frowned. "Is that really what this meeting is about?" she asked. "Do you two think I'm going to take out an ad in the Daily Prophet announcing that Severus Snape nearly drowned in his wine last night?"

Severus traded a look with Dumbledore. "You know that isn't what we're talking about, Aislinn, though I would personally appreciate it if you did not take out such an ad."

Something flickered across her face again, doubt perhaps? It was gone as soon as it was there, though, whatever it was. "Then what are you talking about?" she asked, sounding a bit too innocent.

Severus sighed. "Aislinn, stop it," he said harshly. "This is far too important. If you want to play dumb with other people, that's wonderful. In fact, I encourage it, but it is critical that you understand what you saw last night, so that you understand why no one else can know about it."

She nodded, a frown touching her lips. "Very well," she replied.

For a moment, there was quiet, then Severus stood and walked to a bookcase, suddenly taking great interest in one of the titles. "I hardly know where to begin," he murmured, more to himself than to her. After a moment's consideration, he glanced over his shoulder. "You saw the mark on my arm?" She nodded, frowning slightly as though concentrating. "And you know what it means?" She hesitated, and Severus suddenly laughed, a cold and bitter sound. "You don't know what it means, do you?" She shook her head.

"Christ," he hissed, sinking into his chair again, leaning his head into his hand. His head was pounding again, but this time he didn't think it had anything to do with his overindulgence the night before.

"I…" she trailed off, then looked at him again. "In all honesty, Severus, I had other things on my mind last night. I can't honestly say I paid that much attention to your arm. It was, after all, one of the few parts of you that didn't appear to be injured. Some sort of tattoo…"

Severus was laughing bitterly. She didn't know, but now she knows there is something she shouldn't know, and how long will it take her to deduce what that is? Bloody brilliant. He sat up abruptly and ignored the protest from his head. "This," he hissed, rolling up his sleeve, "is what you half-saw. Do you know what that is?" The widening of her eyes told him she did, and he rolled his sleeve back down. "Good. Then I trust you understand now why we are having this conversation? I never dreamed you didn't notice it last night."

Dumbledore, who had been so quiet thus far, suddenly spoke softly. "Perhaps, Miss Ichalia, it would be a more direct approach if you were to tell us what you saw, and perhaps we can clear your mind about a few things?"

Severus frowned at Dumbledore, wondering what the old man thought Aislinn knew, given that she hadn't known until this moment that he was a Death Eater. Aislinn, however, was nodding slowly.

"I saw faces," she said softly. Severus frowned. Faces? Dumbledore nodded, indicating she should go on. "A man," she whispered, "with dark hair and a hook nose, and a heavy jaw. Then a woman, with a delicate, pretty face and green eyes, black hair. An elderly woman, who looked like she had laughed a lot in her life. A child with pale blond hair…"

A look of horror was beginning to creep across Severus' face, and Dumbledore was nodding thoughtfully. "Yes," he said quietly, "I think perhaps I can see why you didn't notice Severus' arm."

She swallowed hard, and looked at Severus again, smiling, though he couldn't help but notice that it was a weak smile. "Besides which," she said softly, "I was really more concerned with that cut on his head."

Severus closed his eyes. "Aislinn…" he began, "those people…" He opened his eyes again when he felt a hand on his arm, and he was surprised to see it was her hand.

"Please," she whispered softly, "don't tell me if I don't have to know." She looked at Dumbledore again. "So, I would never have believed that you… that Hogwarts…" she trailed off, as though unsure what to say. Dumbledore rescued her from her reticence.

"Severus performs a dangerous, yet essential task for us," Dumbledore was saying. Aislinn was nodding. "So, I trust you realize how crucial it is that you not reveal…"

"I won't," Aislinn whispered softly. "I won't tell a soul."

There was silence for a long moment, and then Dumbledore rose. "Thank you for coming, Aislinn. I hope you will still come visit me some time, and we will discuss things that shine in the midnight sky."

Aislinn stood too, and Severus hauled himself to his feet as well, feeling numb and detached as Aislinn put on a brave smile for Dumbledore. "I'd like nothing better," she was saying, and if the lightness in her voice sounded forced, at least it was there. "For now, though, I have a few things I need to see to," she told them. "Headmaster," she took the hand he offered, and Severus saw him squeeze her hand softly. Then, to his surprise, she offered her hand to him, and he took it. "Severus," she said softly, squeezing his hand gently. He squeezed back gratefully. And a moment later, she was gone.

There was a brief silence, in which neither of the two men spoke, but it was Dumbledore who broke it at last. "She is a special woman, isn't she?"

Severus nodded dumbly, flexing his hand slightly. "She is."

"And a true friend, I would say." Severus looked at the Headmaster. "But I can't help but think you wish it were something more."

Severus cleared his throat. "Well, I can't deny that she is a beautiful woman and…"

Dumbledore's chuckling made the potionmaster stop short, scowling. "You know, Severus, there are worse things to build love off of than friendship. Perhaps if you encourage the attentions she is giving you, and show her that you will not break what part of her heart she is offering, she will offer you more of it."

Severus blinked at Dumbledore, trying to wrap his mind around what the headmaster had just said.

"And, perhaps, if you can find the opportunity, you might suggest a very early picnic breakfast in the astronomy tower on December 13."

For a moment, Severus stared uncomprehending at the Headmaster. "What? Is Venus moving into Uranus then?"

A flicker of amusement crossed Dumbledore's face. "Why Severus, I think you very nearly made a joke. But no, it is nothing so subtle. It would, however, be an excellent time to observe a meteor shower." Severus' face must have looked as blank as his mind felt, for Dumbledore patted his arm. "Shooting stars, Severus. I rather think Aislinn would enjoy it."