The castle was very quiet. The sound of her boots thumping against the floor as she walked caused a few portraits, still awake despite the late hour, to stir slightly and peer at her through the gloom. She was carrying a lantern as she could not use her wand to illuminate her way. She had crept through the castle doors, long shut but easily opened if one knew the correct spell, just after eleven. It had been the only way she could be sure she wouldn't be seen as she made her way to the hospital wing.

It had been three days since Dumbledore had come to see her. The word was that Draco Malfoy was all but ready to be removed from the hospital wing and return to normal school life. Therefore she knew this was her last chance to talk to him; to try and get through to him.

At the hospital wing doors she gently slipped through, looking around and seeing that the gap beneath the door to Poppy Pomfrey's room; just off the wing itself, was dark – so the healer was almost certainly asleep. After placing her lantern on a nearby table she prowled through the wing, glancing over to see that a bed close to the doors was occupied by a second year, Rowle she thought his name was, lying in a fitful slumber with a leg propped up and a mass of boils across his face. Another day another prank, she thought wryly. However Ana did not linger – she knew exactly where she was headed.

At the far end of the wing there was a bed with the curtains drawn around it. There was no light coming from within and the sound of steady breathing told her Draco was probably asleep. She slipped through the parting in the curtains and looked at the boy in the bed. His pale blonde hair was spread messily across his forehead, skin which was as pale as his hair making him look like some kind of marble statue. He wore blue striped pyjamas and, at the bottom of the bed, his blanket had ridden up to reveal two alabaster feet. She took the wooden seat at his bedside and waited.

For a few minutes nothing happened. Then, stirring slightly, Malfoy rolled over onto his side; so that he was facing her. He muttered something, a half word as he twitched in sleep, and she took that opportunity to call out gently,

"Draco?"

He twitched again, shifting beneath the covers, before blearily opening one eye. She had been able to tell by the lack of movement beneath his closed eyelids that he was not in a deep sleep. It was confirmed as his other eyelid snapped open and he started to see her sitting at his bedside.

"Shh," she murmured before he could say anything, "It's late and I'm probably not supposed to be here so you'd be doing us both a favour if you didn't make a sound."

She saw his still sleepy eyes focus as he ran a hand through his mussed hair and shifted into a sitting position on his bed. There was no stiffness in his movements; he was indeed recovered.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

"I came to see you," she breathed in reply, her tone mild. "Thought you could do with some company."

"In the middle of the night?" he asked, "And why would I want to see you anyway?"

She noted his second question seemed forced, as did the sneer which accompanied it. That alone gave her the hope she needed to continue.

"From what I hear you've not exactly been inundated with visitors. Slytherin loyalty not what it used to be?"

"You don't know anything about my house," he replied in a furious growl, "You're just a dirty…"

"Now, now Mr Malfoy. We wouldn't want to say something we might regret – would we?"

He stared at her with hard eyes as she surveyed him with a neutral expression. Wordlessly she cast a charm around the bed so that outsiders wouldn't be able to hear them. She didn't want Madam Pomfrey or little Rowle to come across this particular conversation.

"What do you want?" he asked, settling back against his pillows and affecting disinterest.

"As I said – I thought you could do with some conversation. It appears I was right – you're turned rather gauche during your convalescence. Loneliness will do that to a person."

He said nothing and so she continued.

"Did you know my father was of Slytherin House?"

This caught his attention, his head turned sharply as he surveyed her with suspicion.

"Oh I know, hard to believe, a Slytherin siring a Squib…but he did. He was a staunch Slytherin, had all the traits, he was ambitious and selfish and ruthless...he was also one of the finest men I have ever known. He was a hero in my eyes – always will be."

Draco kept up his silence; simply watching as she spoke.

"I wasn't what he expected from a daughter. My mother was a witch but she wasn't exceptional like he was. She was very ordinary and yet I still loved her. He didn't. It was a marriage of convenience. They were unlike one another in every way. But she too was a Slytherin so perhaps that was the connection – the one bond of unity. And of course there was me – the rope between boat and harbour."

"If you're going to tell me your life story you can…" Draco began coldly; his curled lip reminiscent of Snape so much she had to suppress a smile.

"It's relevant, Draco, if you'll but be patient. So…my mother and father were both of Slytherin house and they produced me. They still loved me, let me make that plain, they weren't demonstrative about the fact but they did love me all the same. A lot was expected of me. And now here I am."

She smiled at Draco who had dropped his look of contempt, who was watching her now with what could almost be called interest.

"We make decisions in our lives, Draco, not our parents. We chose the path we shall take – no other. And it is our own actions which define our lives. I could have followed my parents but I didn't. I became my own person and I am glad for it. But you should remember that no matter what there is always a choice for you – you can always turn back if you wish it."

For a moment they were both very silent and she saw, for the barest second, a look of hope on Draco's face. For a moment it was almost as though he believed her. Then it was gone, closed off, replaced by the sneering disbelief.

"You're telling me to be a Gryffindor? Be good, be weak, be nothing? I'm not ashamed of my parents, I don't need to be – I'm nothing like you."

"No, I think you are very much like me in some ways. But I'm not telling you to do anything. I'm just informing you that you have a choice. And if the day comes when you must make that choice you can look to me Draco. You can come to me and I will help you. I will protect you. I swear it."

His jaw was stiff, a tick fully developed as the muscles clenched and unclenched, and his eyes searching; as though looking for some hidden meaning.

"You couldn't protect me," he answered finally, "Not from Him."

She smiled faintly.

"Believe me there are a great many things that I can do. Things you can't even begin to imagine. I've done terrible things, Draco, really terrible things. You'd never sleep again if you had my memories. But trust me when I say this; if you choose to change paths, if you choose another way – I will stand with you until the end. We are not all, after all, divided into good people and Death Eaters."

He started at that and made to say something only for her to interrupt.

"Oh I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm just using it as an example, you see? The world isn't black and white, hasn't been for a long time, and if you change paths…" she sighed and stood, stretching her stiff back as she did so, "You can choose to stand back and do nothing; if you wish it."

She offered a smile before adding,

"Goodnight, Draco."

However as she made to turn he murmured, so quietly she barely caught the words,

"It's too late now."

She tilted her head and paused, her back still to him.

"It's never too late. Remember what I've said. Look to me. I won't forget my promise."

She left the hospital wing with a considerably lighter heart. For although she was now certain that Draco Malfoy was indeed a Death Eater she also knew that she had planted a seed that night. She had no need to stay within the hospital wing to know that the boy got no sleep. She knew he would spend the night, and the days to come, mulling over her words. Ana could only hope that they would make some impact. If she could save him, she thought, then perhaps in some way Albus would not die in vain. If she could just save that one boy from darkness then perhaps all she had lost would be worthwhile.

Because she had long ago learned that even the preservation of one life, especially when fighting a war like theirs, was important. She was one step closer to cleansing her sins.


…things are well here. Harry is fine, though if he seems a little preoccupied I wouldn't judge him for it. Rumours about the Chosen One are only getting more virulent recently. I think even the students know that whatever is coming is almost here. I've been reading the Prophet religiously each day. More disappearances than ever – and I'll bet that's just the surface of it all. It won't be long until you can't trust the Prophet anymore. Hermione recommended I start reading The Quibbler – a magazine one of her friend's father runs. It's bonkers but there's more truth hidden in the madness then I can find in the Prophet. Might be worth you start reading it too…

She put down her quill, replacing it in the ink pot, and looked up from her parchment to see the room almost completely enveloped in a dusk-like darkness. She frowned as she rose from the table, leaving the letter she had been writing to Sirius on the desk, and called out,

"Hagrid? Can you bring a lantern in here?"

She heard shuffling from the other room and a clanging before the door separating her room and Hagrid's opened and revealed the grounds-keeper; lit lantern in hand.

"Thanks," she gratefully took the glowing lamp and held it up as she looped it over a hook above the table she had been working at. Hagrid had placed the hook there some time ago as she had a tendency to write during the night when she couldn't sleep; letters to Sirius mostly but also missives to Remus or Tonks and sometimes notes to Mrs Weasley about inconsequential things…anything to keep her mind of the nightmares which brought her away from sleep.

"What time is it? I must have been at this for hours," she murmured as she retook her seat and twirled her quill as she wondered what to write next.

"Now there's a funny thing," Hagrid answered, looking out the small window and peering back at the grandmother clock in his half of the cabin as if he assure himself what he saw was real, "It's not gone ha' past four."

Ana frowned and once again laid down her quill. Sunset was coming at seven or eight o'clock recently; depending on rain. For it to be almost night time at half past four in the evening was…

"S' odd." Hagrid finished her thought for her. "Wha' d'yer think?"

She rose once again and walked over to the window, peering out at the sky. There were dark clouds, so dark they were almost pitch, rolling through the air; dampening out what few rays of light remained. The occasional flash indicated lightening and, sure enough, she could now hear the faint rumblings of thunder far off.

"It's the shape of things to come…" she whispered. She turned to look at Hagrid, who was watching her with anxiety plain on his face, and added, "I'm going to go to the castle. Dumbledore isn't here but Minerva or Severus…someone has to know what this is because, by Merlin's beard Hagrid, I certainly don't."

"A'right," Hagrid nodded his assent.

"Will you be alright staying here? You can come with me if…?"

"Nah," he replied, "I'll stay an' keep Fang company."

She nodded and patted him on the arm before passing him by and exiting the cabin. As she shut the door behind her she felt the wind whipping at the skirts of her dress, causing the black material to swirl around her as she strode for the castle. Her bodice, a red and black creation she had transfigured herself, was tight as she raced for the safety of Hogwarts. Her hair was already half out of the bun she habitually wore whilst at school and loose strands were dancing around her face.

When she reached the castle she entered through the courtyard, only to find many students of all different houses gathered there looking up at the blackened, cloud filled sky. Even they, so young, understood that something was afoot.

"Go to your common rooms," she called to them, their eyes veering to her as she spoke. There was a pause, whilst many seemed ready to defy her instruction, before finally one by one they began to move away. A voice at her side caused her to see a third year boy, Slytherin from the tie, looking up at her with concern plain on his face.

"What is it Miss?" he asked, with more respect than the Slytherins usually paid her. It just made it all the more obvious that fear had begun to work its way into Hogwarts.

"Just a summer storm, nothing to worry about," she smiled in what she hoped was a convincing fashion and ruffled the boy's longish brown hair, "Now back to your common room before you catch your death."

He nodded and gave her a tight smile but she could tell her words had done nothing to reassure him.

"Back to your houses – no dawdling!" the broad tones of a Scottish voice from somewhere further down called out. Ana peered through the gloom to see, in the next courtyard, Minerva Mcgonagall underneath the stone canopy calling out to a group of students similar to the ones she had just ordered inside.

Ana made her way down to the Professor. The students had milled away under the stern gaze of their Deputy Headmistress however she still remained; looking up at the sky.

"Minerva?" she asked, coming to stand before the other woman.

"What is this?" the Professor asked, looking at Ana with such fragility Ana herself felt the trepidation rolling off her in waves.

"I don't know," Ana answered, "I haven't seen anything like it since…" she stopped and she knew from Minerva's silence that the older woman understood. Ana had seen nothing like it since the other time; the dark days of her first reality.

"He's still not back?" Ana asked.

"No," Minerva answered, knowing Ana could mean no one other than Dumbledore, "He is still not returned and I do not know where he might be found."

"I'll go and find Severus," Ana decided, shifting, "Are you going to…?"

"I shall make a sweep of the grounds and castle – ensure all the children are safely inside."

Ana nodded her agreement and made to leave; only for Minerva to add.

"Do you think the time has come? You think he will finally come into the open?"

Ana looked back, unsure as to what to say.

"I think it is closer than ever," she answered carefully, "I think…we must be ready."

Minerva nodded and the steel which entered the Professor's gaze gave Ana heart. There was a woman who would not go down without a fight.


It took her a long time to find Severus. She went to his office, his quarters, his classroom; scoured the entire dungeons…but it was in an empty classroom – one with large windows looking out across Hogwarts, on the fifth floor that she finally found him.

"Severus?" she murmured, coming forwards so that she stood at his side. She knew something was wrong; the way he remained looking out, as though transfixed by the stormy sky, told her that. Usually he would throw in some disdainful remark, turn to sneer at her or even perhaps just stalk away without a word. Now she could see only pain in his features; pain like she hadn't seen for so very long; laid open in a way she had never known in this world.

"I haven't seen that look on your face since I was twenty years old." she said, looking away and following his eye line out across the grounds. Far away, in the distance, she could see smoke whirling from the hut; faintly circling before being swept away by the wind. "Four years now…but it seems a lifetime to me."

"Is that so?" he asked, his deep voice tight with suppressed emotion.

"Yes," she answered plainly, "It was just before I was to go on a really important mission. We were going to try and break some people out of Malfoy Manor; though it didn't belong to the Malfoy's by that time. It was His alone; his base. He preferred it to the Ministry. I can understand why. It was the peace; the peace to do whatever he wanted…to whomever he wanted."

She paused and looked at her father from the corner of her eye; his body was stiff.

"You couldn't go, obviously, or they'd have known you were with us. But you pulled me aside, just before we went in, and you said to me that I must remember all you taught me. Remember the ruthlessness of the Death Eaters and that death waited for everyone; even those on the side of the light."

"Hell is empty…" he whispered, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"…and all the devils are here." she finished.

He looked at her then and she met his black gaze with her own. She saw his expression soften, just for a moment, before it became hard once again.

"You know Shakespeare." he stated.

"You made sure I would – you insisted I should be cultured if I were to dwell amongst the dunderheads of Grimmauld Place."

She could have sworn his lip twitched, just slightly, and she allowed herself a small smile before adding quietly,

"Dumbledore told me; about his hand and what it means."

He turned to look at her sharply then; his piercing gaze telling her that there was indeed more to what Dumbledore had said then she could have begun to guess.

"I don't know everything but I do know this; maybe today, or tomorrow, or in a week or a month…sometime soon you are going to do something both incredibly brave and incredibly stupid because Albus has told you to do so. I know him; he asks too much of everyone but most of all of himself. But you feel indebted to him and so you will follow where he leads – you will do his bidding to the last. And when that day comes, no matter what, I will not turn away from you. I've had enough of people turning away from what is right in order to take the path which is easy. I won't do it. I trust you, Severus Snape. You're a good man, though you'd rather die than admit it…and who knows? Perhaps before this is all over you'll have the chance to do just that. And when this is all over I will tell you everything. I will tell you such stories…" she paused and allowed a smile to break through, "Even you will laugh to hear them; even you will cry…when it's all over. For better or for worse."

She could see he wanted to say something but also that there was something holding him back. She wanted so much to hug him, to tell him it would be alright, to tell him that for all his sternness and stiffness and unpleasantness she loved him because he was the only parent she had ever truly had or ever needed. But she knew he wouldn't appreciate any of it and so instead she nodded to him, just a brief inclination of the head, just to let him know that she was there…that she wouldn't turn her back; not on him – not ever.

His own head bowed infinitesimally in reply before he turned and left the classroom. She watched him go and when the corner of his robes had flitted around the doorway, when his footsteps could no longer be heard on the stone floor outside; when she was sure he was far away from her in every sense, she looked back to the window. A deep rumble of thunder, louder than any she had heard thus far, followed a flash of jagged lightening which seemed to split the very sky in two.

The storm was come.


A/N: "Hell is empty, and all the devils are here." is a quote from Shakespeare's The Tempest. Next chapter we shall reach HBP finale. The beginning of the end...