20 – The Call To Serve

The large area rug in the middle of the sitting room was littered with toys as the mid-morning April sun shone through the large picture window that spanned the back of the cottage. Saxon sat in the centre of the room, a small white and silver stuffed unicorn zipping precariously from one end to the other until it finally came within reach of his pudgy, little hands. Grabbing it from the air, he shoved the silver horn into his mouth, gnawing on it vigorously.

Teething again, I thought in sympathy as I watched from the kitchen doorway.

I had brewed another soothing potion that morning having noticed his chomping on things again. I would have to risk putting my finger into his mouth to apply it to his swollen gums, but at least he found it palatable. Most soothing potions left a bitter aftertaste in the child's mouth. After much research, I had found an effective one and adjusted the ingredients to have a slight strawberry taste. Severus often scoffed at me when I searched for the perfect ingredient to use in a potion. It not only had to be effective, it had to taste good as well. I figured that if I'm going to take the time to create something to help heal someone, I wanted that person to keep it down.

The Dark Lord had summoned Severus in late March, shortly after his return from Wizard Rome. Whatever information was obtained from the elderly Potions Master was now needed, along with an up-date and report on what he was working on. Severus had taken my advice and gone to India, returning with two, new, interesting-looking plants whose complete list of properties were unknown but were touted to be potent. More research. He had also finished work on another "virus" and had given me a copy of his notes plus a few hints on how to create the antidote.

It was late one afternoon when Severus grabbed his left forearm, nearly dropping the dish that he was putting away. We had expected the call to come at some point, and he quickly gathered his wand, cloak and mask, leaving a very teary Saxon as he said "good-bye" and strode purposefully to the Apparition point. We were lucky to have had this much time together and didn't know when we would see each other again. The war was looking bleak.

Days passed at a mundane rate as I worked on the most recent antidote. I was already beginning to feel lonely. I missed the company and had gotten used to the feel of his body next to mine at night.

To brighten my mood, about a week after Severus left, I received an owl from the Society of Potions Masters. They were having an informal gathering at the London Manor House at the end of the month. An opportunity to share ideas, the invitation read. These events happened twice a year, and of the three that had already passed since I had been inducted, I was only able to attend the one in Florence last fall. The Camptas had taken care of Saxon for the evening, but feeling uncomfortable leaving him magically unguarded, I left the meeting early. A brief note from Chairwizard Castwell accompanied the invitation personally requesting my presence. London? What would I do with Saxon?

As the date approached, I penned a letter to Albus sending it through public owl post from Wizard Rome. I explained the situation and felt that it would be an excellent opportunity for us to meet to discuss Order activities, plus I could get a first-hand update on the war. I, also, cited my concern with bringing Saxon and wondered if he could offer a suggestion. A few days later, I received a return owl with Albus' seal. Madam Pomfrey would gladly keep an eye on my son for the evening at Hogwarts. If anyone should ask, he was her visiting nephew. Saxon and Madam Pomfrey were acquainted as she had visited on several occasions to check on our well-being, and Hogwarts, with its extensive security wards, was the perfect place for him to be. We were instructed to Portkey to the safe house in Cumberland, then Floo to Albus' office at an assigned time.

The day before leaving for England, I searched through my wardrobe for an appropriate outfit to wear to the gathering. Finding the cream-coloured linen dress that I had worn to my induction ceremony deep in the recesses of the wooden closet, I pulled it forward and tried it on. Heaving a sigh, it was obvious that a little magic was necessary. I knew that my body had changed shape after Saxon was born but nearly cried at the astonishing realization. I couldn't get the fastenings done up at all and, although I was still in pretty good condition, my waist had thickened and my breasts…well, Severus always said that more than a handful was a waste. Merlin! He has bigger hands than I thought! Laying the dress on the bed, a quick flick of my wand enlarged it slightly and drawing my finger along the edge of the neck and cuffs and down the lacings of the back, I turned the cream-coloured piping into black, giving the dress a more mature look. Trying it on again and pulling my long, sandy hair into a high, loose bun, I examined my reflection in the mirror. Smiling and feeling satisfied, I stripped out of the dress and turned my attention to packing the rest of the things needed for both Saxon and me.

Arriving at the Ministry early the next morning, we headed to the Department of International Transportation on the main floor where I retrieved a London Times newspaper Portkey. It had been set so that I could return when I wished.

Having reduced our belongings to neatly pack into a small rucksack, it left my hands free to contend with Saxon's first Portkey experience. Portkeying was never my favourite method of travel, but the energy expended in Tandem-Apparition to England was too much and would leave me nearly powerless for a few hours. I don't know how my grandmother had ever done it during World War II. I didn't want to take the risk.

Holding the Times firmly in my right hand, Saxon sat astride my left hip, arms tightly wrapped around my neck, and as I felt the sharp tug behind my navel, Saxon's grip became strangling. The feeling of being sucked through a straw lasted for only a few minutes before we landed with a slight thump in the walled, rear garden of a familiar stone safe house in rural Cumberland. Albus had instructed me to use my old password, and I was surprised to find that it still worked after all these years. The curtains were drawn, and the house was dark, and as the backdoor creaked open, a musty smell of disuse wafted out.

The old house was just as I remembered with its low ceiling and dark furnishings. It contained bittersweet memories for this was the house that I had Portkeyed to from my funeral pyre: the house where Severus spent weeks nursing me back to health: the house where I became Daniella Di Marco. Now, as I wandered through the dusty hallway, it simply felt empty.

Working my way through the dark kitchen, down the hall, and into the bookshelf-lined study where a low fire burned in the grate, I saw a simple note tacked to the mantle. It read: ten o'clock. Although I had left Italy at mid-morning, the one-hour time difference meant that we would have to wait for a while before the Floo would open for us. Hogwarts' security system generally didn't allow Floo access, however, Albus' influence at the British Ministry meant that he could have it connected whenever necessary.

I set Saxon down on a large chintz armchair, removed the rucksack from my back, and rummaged through it to find his stuffed unicorn and a sippy cup of juice. Scooping my son onto my lap, we sat and waited for the assigned time.

At a few minutes to ten, I stood, gathered our things, and hoisted Saxon onto my hip again. Taking a pinch of Floo powder from the engraved sterling box on the oak mantle, I stepped into the fireplace. Gripping Saxon with both arms, his face buried into my shoulder to protect his mouth and eyes from the soot, I awkwardly tossed the powder down, commanding, "Headmaster's office: Hogwarts."

We zoomed past family fireplaces in the blink of an eye and finally arrived in my grandfather's large, round domain. A flash of memory made me smile as we stepped into the room. It was still as cluttered as I remembered, but at least, this time, I remained on my feet. Saxon sputtered and let out a wail as he wiped his grimy hands across his face. Casting a gentle cleansing spell, I cleaned the soot from both of us before stepping any further. It had been over six years since I had been here, the last visit sending me into a life that would change me forever. Albus and I had much to discuss.

A gushing "coo" and a flurry of dark grey emerged on my right as Poppy Pomfrey approached, arms extended to take Saxon. He went willingly to the friendly matron as Albus appeared in front of me looking composed in his midnight blue robes.

"I trust you had no problems?" he asked with a pleasant smile.

"None, thank you. I'm surprised my password still worked," I answered, reaching to take his hand.

"The house has not been used since you were there last," he said sadly, pausing in thought. Shaking himself from the memory, he continued, "Madam Pomfrey is ready to take Saxon, so we will have time to chat."

I nodded as I watched my son with the mediwitch.

"He'll be hungry soon," I called. "The time change has affected his feeding schedule."

"Don't you worry, dear. We'll be just fine," she replied bouncing Saxon slightly on her hip. "Isn't that right?" she cooed again with Saxon gurgling delightedly in return as they exited the room.

"I have provided you with a room by the Hospital Wing, but you'll have to Apparate to London from Hogsmeade," he began as we sat in the large armchairs by the fireplace. "Tea?"

I nodded. "How have you been? I hear so little, and what I do hear is often out-dated." I leaned forward to accept the cup.

Albus leaned back into the chair and heaved a worn sigh. "It's almost an equal battle." He shook his head, ignoring a personal response. "The Giants are creating havoc on the coastline, and I believe you heard about the shopping centre?" I nodded again. "Death Eaters are terrorizing Wizard and Muggle communities alike in an attempt to recruit followers and keep dissidents in line. It's said that history repeats itself, and I fear that this will only get worse before it gets better."

There was silence for a moment as he drifted in thought. I could see the worry on his face, but it quickly changed to determination as he continued.

"I need you to keep your ears open tonight at the meeting. Severus has indicated that he may not be the only Master under Voldemort's influence. See if you can find out who else is following."

I nodded. "Has Severus made any indication as to who it may be?"

Albus' brow furrowed as he chose his words carefully. "I would simply like a …second opinion, so to speak."

"You still don't trust him?" I questioned in disbelief. "After all these years? He took a risk to save my life! Has he not done as you have asked? Has he not gathered important information for you?" I could feel my anger mounting.

"Indeed he has, dear, but understand and remember his past, in his position he could easily be swayed, and I would not know of it until it was too late." He chuckled lightly at the next thought. "He mentioned that Voldemort was looking to place someone at Hogwarts to keep an eye on me. I have suggested to Severus that he subtly "volunteer" for the position. That way, we can keep an eye on Voldemort with the appearance of the opposite happening."

I shook my head slowly. "And, you can keep a closer eye on Severus," I scoffed. "He often feels like he's between a rock and a hard place. Both of you make demands on him. Albus, do you know how many times he has suffered Crucio because of delays or misinformation that has been discovered? Do you realize the pressure that he is under? Our home in Italy has been the only place where he can relax and be free from it all. I'll do as you ask, of course, and I hope what I find supports what Severus has told you. Maybe, then, you'll have a bit more faith in him." I gave an annoyed snort.

Albus registered my annoyance and proceeded carefully, changing the subject. "I've heard rumours to indicate problems in Northern Africa and the Middle East."

"Yes." I followed his lead to avoid further conflict. "From what I've heard the Indian Ministry is having difficulty with rogue wizards. They're behaving somewhat like the Death Eaters. The Albanian Ministry seems to have its share of problems as well. I don't like dealing with them. They're hard-nosed and have very firm beliefs of how they want their society to run, and it's not always good."

"I know Voldemort has made contacts abroad. I would hate to think of this situation going global. We're trying hard to keep it in Britain. We don't need anything like the Muggles' World Wars."

I agreed. If not resolved soon, the war could easily spread to other countries. Although the Wizard communities abroad were small in comparison to Britain's, they could easily be swayed or pressured. I would have to keep my eyes and ears open at home, as well, and contact my colleagues in these countries.

Our conversation lasted until the lunch bell rang, at which time the Headmaster summoned a house elf to serve us.

By early afternoon, our meeting was over, and while the students were in class, I was able to work my way to the Hospital Wing unnoticed. Entering the cavernous room with neatly made beds on either side, I saw Saxon happily playing on a blanket in the middle of the floor while the efficient mediwitch mended a partition screen. Saxon rubbed his eyes and yawned as I bent to scoop him into my arms. Thanking Poppy, I gathered his things and headed for our room.

"Daniella, dear," Poppy called as she stopped her mending and approached. Lowering her voice, she glanced around quickly. " I know the Headmaster has assigned you a room close to mine. However, should Severus be at the meeting tonight, feel free to…ummm, not use it." She winked with a coy smile. "I'll keep an eye on the baby for you. It wouldn't be a problem."

Poppy knew of our situation and understood that our time together was precious.

"Thank you," I smiled in return. "But, I have no idea how things will play out tonight. We both have work to do."

She shook her head sadly. "Just know that the invitation is there. I'll keep an eye on Saxon, should you come home tonight or not. I don't want you to worry about him."

"I won't. I know he's in good hands," I assured.

I trusted Poppy Pomfrey. She cared for us and kept our secret. She even tended Severus' wounds whenever he allowed her too and knew how to make the Cruciatus Reduction Potion that I had created for him. I had no problem leaving our son in her care.

The Society of Potions Masters, while originating in Britain, held its informal gatherings at various locations throughout Europe to accommodate its members. The London Manor House, however, with its expansive gardens and imposing stone facade, was the main meeting place. I had been to this building on a few occasions and always enjoyed the brightly lit, comfortable formality of it.

Landing gently in the Apparition Garden, also known as the Tulip Garden, I inhaled the fragrance of the flowers coming into bloom. It was still early in London's growing season, but several varieties of flowers brightened the path to the house. My light, black cloak hung loosely over my shoulders covering the cream and black robe. A light breeze tossed the ringlet tendrils around my face and down my neck while the rest of my long hair was affixed with spells in a loose bun on the top of my head.

Climbing the massive stone steps leading to the front doors, I could hear the chatter of the crowd through the opening. Entering the polished marble foyer, a familiar little house elf greeted me with a huge blushing smile. Pinky was new in the Society's service the year I was inducted, and we had forged a bond from the beginning. Taking my cloak, she hugged it tightly as she scurried off to put it away.

I wandered into the reception room to find Master Whitherling and Chairwizard Castwell greeting members just inside the door. Scanning the room quickly, I recognized most of the guests and saw that Severus was indeed in attendance, hair curtaining his face and scowling at the world around him as he manoeuvred effortlessly through the crowd. I was beginning to really hate that charm of his. He didn't even look like the man I loved and respected. Joining the others, I kept my demeanour soft-spoken and meek as I greeted and was greeted by Masters and Mistresses alike. It was my intention to maintain an image of a studious and intelligent, yet non-political, researcher. There was a war going on, and I needed to hide my role in it.

As the evening wore on, we were ushered into the meeting room. Chairwizard Castwell stood tall at the end of the large, oval table as we took our seats. He looked grim, and I wondered if this really was an informal "meeting of the minds". There seemed to be more people in attendance than I expected, and once everyone was settled, Castwell cleared his throat and thanked us for coming. His first message answered my question. It was one of great concern.

"There are forces working to undermine the stability of the Wizard world, and they are attempting to recruit Potions Masters and Mistresses to work for them. Master Lindstrom had been approached, refused to co-operate, and is presently missing. Now, a second Master has disappeared. We must be aware and be vigilant. The Wizard world is not safe."

I kept my eyes fixed to the Chairwizard, knowing that the second Master must have been the one that Severus had met with in Rome. What had happened? How deeply was Severus involved in this? I hoped the man was not hurt…or worse.

Castwell continued by reminding us that we had taken an oath for the betterment of Wizardkind. To create potions of a harmful nature would be against that oath and would result in the removal of your title and status. We had all worked hard to achieve that status and collectively shook our heads at the thought of doing anything to risk it.

As Castwell paused, my eyes scanned the others for reactions. Most showed shock, concern and worry, but a few sat with either smug or emotionless expressions. I focused on Severus, and our eyes met.

Legilimens, I directed at him but was met with a strong Occlumens: a black, empty void. He tipped his head in a half nod as I turned my head away to focus on others at the meeting.

When it was over and we began to move back into the reception room, Master Whitherling gently grasped my elbow and steered me toward a vacant space by the wall.

"Forgive me, Mistress Di Marco, but I need to ask a question," he began uncomfortably.

"Of course," I replied standing with my back to the wall so that I could see the rest of the room.

He took a deep breath and plunged forward. "What did you ever see in Master Snape?"

I was surprised by the question and thought that he may have witnessed the by-play between us during the meeting. Taking a moment, appearing to think, I replied, "Looking back, I guess I was intrigued. We could converse intelligently, and he was interested not only in potions creation but also in research and herbology as I am, and, if you recall, I was without a Master. Through him, you introduced me to one."

"I don't see you as the manipulative sort," he said gently.

"I'm not. He made an offer that I accepted. Remember, I was surprised to meet you that night in Rome."

"Yes," he said, remembering. "And now?" His eyes were intense.

"We mutually went our separate ways. His arrogance was a bit much, and his disposition can be…trying."

"You're too polite," he chuckled.

I smiled demurely. "Why do you ask these questions?"

"Curiosity. You're young and beautiful and have achieved a high status. He's…well, look at him." He waved his hand toward the crowd but motioned to Severus. Severus stood with his back to the opposite wall, cognac in hand, looking annoyed at the chattering old wizard who had cornered him.

"Granted his demeanour and appearance are off-putting, but you cannot deny his intelligence. Whether I "like" him or not is irrelevant. He is still the youngest Potions Master in Wizard history, and you were his teacher."

"True. As I said, I was just curious."

Heading toward the refreshment table, Whitherling was sidetracked by a small, middle-aged Mistress with a stern, pinched face. He rolled his eyes comically to me as he turned politely to her. Proceeding alone to the punch bowl, I poured myself a cup, crushed in a strawberry, and ran my finger along the rim. Smiling to myself, I remembered Albus questioning the action at another function. Eliminate the alcohol. Check for foreign substances. Was I too cautious? I didn't think so. I knew that some of the people in attendance tonight favoured the Dark side. We were all at risk.

Standing with my back to the table, I scanned the crowd. Master Trevedi, my colleague from India, was there. Albus had mentioned the Indian Ministry in our conversation earlier in the day. I would have to talk with him. I recognized a few others, and as I moved to join a small cluster, Chairwizard Castwell approached.

"Mistress Di Marco," he smiled pleasantly, nodding formally.

"Sir," I nodded in return. "It's good to see so many in attendance tonight."

"Indeed," he said as he glanced around the room. "I fear for some of them. Competition is no longer the major threat to us. We must band together, keep our oath." His brows furrowed in concern. "May I have a private word with you?"

"Of course," I replied as he led me to an almost hidden doorway under the spiral staircase in the entrance hall. Entering the chamber, he bade me to sit. The room couldn't have been more than eight feet square with a low ceiling. There was a short, wooden table between two comfortable looking armchairs. I smiled. The chairs took up most of the space. Two wrought iron wall sconces glowed against the ivory walls giving off a warm light. Castwell entered behind me and offered a drink from a cupboard beneath the table, which I declined. He poured himself one, then sat opposite me.

"I trust you," he began abruptly, taking a sip of his drink. "Your work at the Italian Ministry is highly praised, and you are hoping to forward your studies to better the Wizard world. Yes, I know of your request to attend Oxford," he acknowledged with a slight smile.

Ah, so that's what this is about, I thought.

"It shows that you are truly holding to your oath," he continued. "The improvements and creations that you have made for your hospital are outstanding." He paused for a moment, examining the contents of his glass. "I have a request." He looked up solemnly, eyes boring into mine. "We are at war. I don't know who to trust and feel that an outsider of your calibre and expertise is required for this task." He sighed wearily. "New viruses and illnesses are appearing in both the Wizard and Muggle worlds. They seem to be created rather than natural. Some cures are appearing, but not all illnesses are being dealt with quickly enough. We need help in analysing them and creating the cures. Would you be willing to assist?"

I paused for a moment, thinking. Albus and Severus had both indicated that there may be other Masters at work for Voldemort, but it doesn't take a Master to create potions. Was it more widespread than we thought? At least my antidotes were getting to the public.

"Of course, I'll help," was my stunned reply. "It sounds similar to what I already do at the Ministry, but I have my own request."

Castwell stared into my eyes intently. I'm glad I had cast Occlumens before entering the manor, because I felt him attempting to pry my mind. It seemed innocent enough, like he was taking precautions.

"No one must know that I am working on this," I stated firmly.

"Why?" he asked flatly, eyes still on me.

"For my protection. Should anyone find out, I would be at risk."

"Yes, of course. I understand. I'll have to find a way to get the samples to you."

"Send it to the Italian Ministry, to my attention; mark private on the package. I'll get it," I assured.

Castwell looked relieved and nodded again as he stood, offering his hand to me. "Thank you," he said quietly as we stepped toward the door.

"You're welcome," I replied.

Returning to the brightly lit foyer, I squinted to shield my eyes from the light. Chairwizard Castwell returned to the reception room, and I headed for the front door. I needed a bit of fresh air.

"Is Mistress alright?" a small voice rose from knee level as I stepped into the cool evening air. Pinky had followed me out, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," I smiled at the diminutive elf.

"If Mistress is needin' anything, she is to ask Pinky, if that is pleasin' Mistress?" The young elf's ears twitched as the tips turned rosy.

I smiled again. I didn't have much experience with house elves but understood their need to serve. Still, in my mind, they were living creatures and should be treated respectfully.

"I just need some fresh air. Thank you, Pinky. I'll be in shortly."

With that, the elf smiled meekly, bowed deeply, and disappeared.

"It seems you've made a friend," a deep voice sounded from the dark pathway.

I startled then composed quickly. Severus stepped onto the path and up the wide stone steps toward me, his long legs taking two at a time.

"She's sweet," I replied looking back to where Pinky had been.

"She's a house elf," he answered with disdain.

I raised my brows at him. I really did hate this character.

He stopped in front of me, one step down, and placed his face close to mine. His crooked, yellow teeth and the smell of alcohol made me want to recoil.

"Where is Saxon?" he asked in a low, measured tone, barely above a whisper. The glow in his ebony eyes contradicted his appearance.

At Hogwarts, I replied empathically, becoming lost in those eyes.

Severus nodded slightly as he rose to the same step as me, facing the manor as I faced the gardens.

"What did Castwell want?" he asked, scanning the area.

"My help. It would appear that there are more viruses out there than we thought. Have I received all the information?" I challenged, looking over my shoulder at him.

"As far as I know, but I did tell you that I thought others were involved." He returned my gaze for a brief moment before looking away again. "Can you speculate who else?"

"Montague, I think. Possibly Pugwall. Both appeared quite pleased with themselves during Castwell's speech. I couldn't get eye contact with them but got the feeling that they were hiding something."

Severus lowered his head in a half nod. "There is another, but he is not a Master. Odius Wurst. A researcher with our Ministry. I have seen him in the presence of known Death Eaters and am quite certain he was responsible for the SARs epidemic last winter."

I drew a quick breath. That epidemic killed many people but primarily hit the children and the elderly.

"Have you told Albus this?" I questioned.

"Of course," he bit.

"Good, then I can confirm your information on Montague and Pugwall. He'll have to check out Wurst himself."

There was silence between us for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Then, I ventured with a mischievous smile, "Master Whitherling asked about our relationship."

Severus' eyebrow shot to new heights, and he scowled. "And…?"

"And nothing. I basically said that although you were obviously intelligent enough to become the youngest Potions Master, you weren't my type." I grinned as I stared into the night.

He reached sideways and grabbed my waist, pulling me close, whispering roughly into my ear, "Not your type?"

I turned in his arm as he nibbled my earlobe and was about to lean into him when I notice two Masters at the doorway; Pinky was by their side looking very concerned.

We're being watched.

Severus' tipped his head in acknowledgement as I pulled back abruptly from his grip, pushing him away.

"Sir, that's no way for a gentleman to behave!" I feigned shock.

"I never claimed to be a gentleman," Severus sneered as he approached and grabbed my waist again. "Gods, you don't know how turned on I am right now," he whispered hoarsely into my hair.

I pushed my thigh against a hard bulge in his pants. I think I know. I smiled quickly as his body pressed against mine.

"Slap me," he whispered again pulling back slightly.

I pushed him to arms length and slapped his face hard, his head jerking sharply to the right. Spinning on my heel, I headed for the entrance, leaving Severus staring into the night. The two Masters stood at the top of the stairs waiting for me, giving Severus appalled and disgusted looks. They escorted me back to the reception room and from then on, we had to keep our distance.