Tergum Visum

Severus billowed from the door and left the Kitchen. For a moment, he almost felt sorry for Lupin. The women were bound to question him to distraction, particularly Tonks and Emmeline.

When he reached the door to the study, he knocked on it briskly. "Severus?" called Dumbledore from the other side. "Come in, my boy."

"I'd rather not," replied Snape serenely.

After a moment, Dumbledore emerged. "Really, Severus," he chided, "you don't seem the superstitious type."

"The room is cursed," said Severus shortly.

"Nonsense," said Dumbledore lightly. "I've been through it, there's absolutely no Negative Energy."

"Negative or Positive Energy are not analogous with Light and Dark Magic, Albus," snapped Severus. "Might I remind you that you were the one that insisted there was no Chamber of Secrets?"

Dumbledore looked abashed, but only slightly. "I hope you realize that you're actually agreeing with Sirius about something."

"As much as I loathed the man," said Snape tersely, "I can say I knew him well. He was not a liar. He has always told what he believed to be the absolute truth even when it was not to his advantage. 'I killed the Potters,' indeed."

Dumbledore began to hum tunelessly to himself as he shuffled down the hall. Severus followed him a few paces behind, to compensate for the older Wizard's slower gait. Finally, they reached one of the old disused bedrooms. Dumbledore opened it, and sank into an overstuffed wingback armchair, gesturing to Severus to take another.

Grimacing, Severus surveyed the room, seating himself gingerly on the edge of the chair. "Have Moody check that clock, it bothers me."

Dumbledore nodded as though that was the most obvious thing in the world and said, "I've just had a nice little chat with Remus."

Severus gestured for him to go on, feigning just the right amount of impatience.

"He told me a great deal about his connection with the Ralf fellow," said Dumbledore, "and I should like to apologize."

"As usual," grumbled Severus, looking at his hands. "You believe him over me."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No," he said. "I didn't believe you alone, nor would I have believed Remus had he claimed what you have. But both of you, claiming the same, that I can believe."

"For somebody who claims to have absolute faith, you are rather fickle," said Severus. "Was that all?"

"Severus, my boy," said Dumbledore, "I didn't distrust you. I believe, and always have, that you act for the best, and you have never failed me. I simply had a suspicion that, with the best of intentions, you were keeping things from me."

"There is one thing I would like to inform you of," said Snape, "and now's as good a time as any. They boy is watched well enough, but his things must be watched. It's not urgent as yet, probably won't be for a few weeks at best, but plans could change abruptly."

"Why?" asked Dumbledore urgently. "What's been planned?"

"Blood Magic," said Snape quietly. "I've no hand in it officially, but I'm doing my best to sabotage the project from within. I can't tell you how, and if you trust me as you say you do, you shan't ask. The plan has been to infuse some object of the child's with very powerful Negative Energy."

"They've no blood of his, though," protested Dumbledore. "As long as he's safe, there should be no need to-"

"They're not using his, they're using the Dark Lord's," explained Snape. "You'll remember that it was Potter's blood he used to resurrect himself. It is now Potter's blood, on a subliminal level at least, which runs through his veins."

"Whose blood is the trigger?" asked Dumbledore, his face set and grim.

Severus briefly allowed his despair to show. It took a moment for Dumbledore to realize what his spy was trying to tell him.

"I'm sorry," said Dumbledore finally.

Severus looked up in surprise. "Sorry?"

"How far along is the project?" asked Dumbledore, abruptly switching to a more businesslike manner. "Should I inform the others?"

"Not yet," said Snape. "Not while there's a chance I can save things from within. It's better Potter doesn't know of every plan for his life, and you know somebody would end up telling him about it 'for his own good,' if they knew. I assure you I'll notify you should things come to the point where I need the assistance of the rest of the Order. They're needed more where they are now."

Dumbledore hesitated momentarily, but decided that Severus needed a proof of his trust. "Tell me the moment you need our help," he said at last. "Be careful."

"During the Occlumency sessions," Snape said suddenly, "I've seen increasing images of his nightmares. Not visions, his own personal nightmares. Do you know what he fears most of all?"

Apprehensive, Dumbledore slowly shook his head.

"You know, about his relatives?" asked Snape, before continuing without waiting for an answer. "Until he was eleven they kept him in a cupboard. His dreams are full of rooms which begin to close in until there's barely room for him to move a finger. The boy is claustrophobic."

Dumbledore sighed, his face a mixture of guilt and sorrow. Snape was expressionless.

"I had to leave him there," sighed Dumbledore. "Otherwise, he would have been…"

"You merely made a single possibility less probable," contradicted Severus. "That isn't the point now, however, Headmaster. He must be given room to move. Hogwarts is not a claustrophobe's nightmare; the rooms are all large; the hallways aren't narrow; there are plenty of windows. The Great Hall's ceiling is especially liberating, with its silly enchantment. But keep a man in a place and prevent him from leaving, no matter what its size… a prison is a prison, Albus."

"We can't let him out of sight," protested Albus. "Especially after what you've just told me."

"You are used to doing what is right for the boy, or what you believe is right, in spite of what you feel, or what he thinks," said Severus. "But his mind is very … impressionable. He has practically no self-confidence, a very insecure child. I would rather he be overconfident, without escort, than escorted, and fearing for his life."

Dumbledore didn't respond, but seemed to be deep in thought. Severus quickly pressed his advantage, saying, "He's skittish now, more than he was before. He's afraid, not only for himself, but for the others, and you've made it worse by not letting him move. He's afraid he'll be trapped in the castle while his friends are, perhaps, attacked in Hogsmeade. I am asking you, Headmaster, just give him an emergency Portkey, and call off his guards.

"Worse yet, he now firmly believes that he is the only one who can keep his friends safe, and that whatever happens to them is his responsibility. You've reinforced that by praising his deeds without punishing his extreme recklessness. You've merely increased his sense that his own safety is somehow worth less than that of others."

Dumbledore considered. Severus, who never admitted to needing help, had personally asked him, not suggested, or told, but asked him to do something for the good of a boy he had no affection for. Severus had also raised his voice to him, while he was normally impeccably polite to the Headmaster, regardless of disagreements. There had to be even more reason than he was letting on to make him as agitated as that and Dumbledore was afraid for what it could mean for Harry Potter.

"What about the Tergum Visum?" asked Dumbledore finally. "It would give him protection, without needing to be watched, or to stay in one place."

"Albus," Snape said icily, "the Tergum Visum is possibly the worst thing to inflict anybody with. Would you take away his humanity? Are you willing to do that, to keep your weapon safe?"

"He's not a weapon, Severus," said Dumbledore heavily. Severus had called him Albus. Not Headmaster, not Dumbledore, but Albus; he only used his given name when he was deathly serious. "His humanity?"

"You know how the Tergum Visum works," spat Severus. "It replaces the instincts of the Subject with an animalistic sixth sense. It cannot be undone, and it is not safe. Even if we had a subject from which to transfer it, it could quite possibly incapacitate him for months or even kill him."

"Not fully human," mused the Headmaster. "Wandless magic…"

"Merlin, Albus!" swore Severus. "Are you really that heartless? No one can claim that I'm a very merciful person, but even I would not take away the very humanity of a boy not yet eighteen, to give me a tactical advantage in a war – besides, if he did not receive the gift of Wandless Magic along with nonhuman gift of Parseltongue, he shall never develop it."

"It might seam heartless," said Dumbledore, "as do other things I have done. But I am much older than you are, Severus. I have seen much more, and I realize that sometimes a small harm is necessary for the greater good. I have spent most of my time agonizing over the relative values and risks of certain things, which, Merlin preserve me, were somehow made my decision. I am merely trying to keep the boy alive, and to help him fulfill his destiny. To be sure, there have been times when my decisions have hurt him, but I considered those hurts worth their benefits."

"It's a good thing it's impossible to cast upon him now, isn't it?" said Severus in a dangerous whisper. "A good thing we've no one to transfer it from, and a very good thing you didn't think of it when he was born."

"Yes, I know," said Severus. "Sending him to live with his relations was necessary. Leaving him there, when you know he's ignored, even starved there, is necessary. Locking him up until he goes insane, is necessary.

"It was necessary," continued Severus bitterly rising from his chair to pace about the room. "Necessary as it was not to stop him from his various 'rescue missions,' and praising him when they've fallen in his favor. I don't deny he deserved a fair praise for some of it, but he should also have received a warning not to try something of that nature on his own again. The lesson he's learned was that it's was best to work in secret, hiding from his mentors, that it is was up to him alone to save those in trouble. He should have learned to go to a competent adult with such grave concerns."

Severus fell into lecture mode, as was his wont when he was excited about a topic. He began to pace about the room, his stride lengthening as the pace of his words increased steadily.

"Do you know what will happen, Albus? Perhaps has happened already? That he thinks his danger, his pain, is worth nothing. That he must put himself in the line of fire to save others. Don't be surprised if he sacrifices his life for this cause of yours, helped on ever so much by your 'difficult decisions.'"

Severus broke off, breathing hard. Blood pounded in his ears as he tried to calm himself down. He turned away from Dumbledore and sank into the chair, putting his head in his hands. Neither spoke for a moment, until Severus finally raised his head, sighing heavily, "I'm sorry, headmaster. I should not have said that."

"I'm glad you did," Dumbledore answered.

"You never thought of the fact that he's not an idea, but a living breathing person who can think for himself, did you?" asked Severus tiredly, no strength left to snap.

Dumbledore sighed. "It is hard," he said. "I knew when it first happened, what sort of home he'd grow up in if he were brought up in our world. I knew it would be better for him to grow up not knowing. Though I did hope for him to be brought up well, loved, that they would tell him when he was old enough to know."

"You knew what sort of people they were," Snape chided quietly. "You simply decided the risk was nullified by the potential gain."

Dumbledore sighed. "His Occlumency," he said suddenly smiling again. "Is going well?"

"It is progressing, slowly." Severus nodded, conveniently not mentioning that the boy was still not finished with his study of Legilimency and therefore hadn't been training much at all, not to mention busy learning Avada Kedavra.

"Well then," said Dumbledore, bouncing to his feet, once more his characteristic collected self, "you will tell me more of his doubts and insecurities as you learn of them. The more we know about the boy's psyche, the better we can-"

"You want me to spy on him," Severus interrupted, "since you still cannot face speaking to him on your own. I understand."

Dumbledore sighed. "What is it about the Tergum Visum that bothers you so much? I haven't seen you this agitated since…"

Severus stood, and turned away from Albus, crossing his arms. "Neville Longbottom," he said shortly. "You can see the good it's done him."

Whatever Dumbledore had been expecting, that hadn't been it. "Frank and Alice's boy?" he breathed. "I knew they'd been thinking of casting it at the time, but I was never sure if they'd actually done it before the attack. Then we do have someone from which to transfer! I'm surprised I didn't realize it before- he was exceptional in the skirmish at the Ministry- quite the opposite of his usual self. I knew it didn't seem right. Yes, yes, I see it now! The Spell would have informed him quite well where the danger was…"

"You cannot transfer a Spell that has miscarried." Severus' face was unreadable as he explained. "The Tergum Visum is intended, as you know, to provide an advance warning of attack, and potential danger. Why do you think the boy is as terrified of me as he is? The Spell was miscast- he can only see the potential of offensive Magic. You'll notice he's equally terrified of you- and of Potter himself to a lesser degree. The Spell's denied him any sense of perspective of likelihood of an attack.

Severus began to pace about the room in agitation as he went on. "Imagine it, Albus. Everywhere that boy walks, his mind automatically categorizes every person he sees by their ability in Offensive Magics, his mind telling him take cover, to hide until all danger is passed."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed as Severus continued to rant, accenting his words with agitated gestures, sweeping about the room.

"Imagine," Snape continued, his voice steadily rising in volume, "sleeping in a dormitory with four or five other boys your mind kindly informs you are quite capable of seriously harming you; being in a class knowing your professor is more than able to kill you. Imagine having a divided mind, the rational half of which tells you that certain people are to be liked and trusted, while your every instinct is to attack or run from them on account of their power.

"And that," finished Snape, now deathly quiet, "is only one of the ill effects you would risk were you to attempt a Tergum Visum on Potter. I say again, thank Merlin we've no one to transfer it from."

"I suppose it's all for the best," said Dumbledore. "May the rain fall where it must."

"I hate that expression," griped Severus sourly, seating himself again.

Dumbledore smiled inscrutably. "Of course."

Severus took a deep breath, before finally deciding to tell the Headmaster something that had been on his mind for some time. "Sir," he began tentatively, "do you know much about Scrying?"

Albus' blue eyes widened slightly, wondering how he'd been caught, before he rearranged his face in an expression of friendly interest. "Scrying, Severus?" he asked.

Severus nodded. "Twice in the last week I've had the uncomfortable feeling that I'm being watched. I would know if it were someone in the room, no matter how well they hid. I am sure they watched from quite some distance, though the distance varied. I've searched, but I haven't been able to find a defense against them, and… one of the instances was in Hogwarts itself, and if they can See me, they can See you, not to mention Potter…"

"You've not been able to find a defense against them," said Dumbledore, "because there isn't one. They're quite inconvenient, you know; throw a nasty twist into Metaphysical Theory by defying all the rules. We really must chat about it over tea some day, I believe I've a book on the matter in my office somewhere, you know, right next to the one about Circle Magic."

Severus blinked. "The matter is quite serious, Headmaster or I would not have brought it up."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, yes," he said. "However, there's nothing we can do about it, except behave with extra caution when you know yourself to be under surveillance."

Severus gave an exasperated sigh, and leaned back into his chair.

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair, a look of keen interest on his face. "Tell me, Severus," he asked, "how did you know you were being watched?"

Severus tensed. "It doesn't matter, I was probably imagining it anyway," he lied. "I'm sorry for bothering you with it."

"No matter," said Dumbledore, "no matter at all. Any trouble of yours is a trouble of mine."

Severus tried to refrain from snorting and succeeded, barely. "Which just means what I've told you bothers you for some reason, but you're not going to tell me."

"Now, now, Severus," said Dumbledore, "you've not given me a straight story in a Griffin's age, always the absolute truth, but always stretched. Allow me a little fun of my own? Tell me, how far was the distance you … sensed? From the watcher to you, I mean."

Severus grimaced. "The first time it was quite close, which worried me," he answered. "The second time it seemed quite far off, almost unnoticeable."

Dumbledore nodded absently popping some sort of sweet into his mouth. "Anything you wish to tell me?"

Snape sighed. "If there were, I'd have told you."

"Quite, quite," murmured the Headmaster. "Take care of yourself, Severus, and mind you get some sleep. I don't want you fainting in class, or worse yet on a mission."

"When I'm in danger of a vasovagal episode, Headmaster, I shall see Poppy," snapped Snape, rising to his feet. "If you don't mind, I have a Werewolf to badger about nearly missing his Wolfsbane in the presence of children."

With a curt nod and a dramatic sweep of his robes, Severus left the room. The Headmaster watched him leave, then allowed a wide grin to break over his face.

"Severus, Severus," he muttered to himself, "I see. It's all very simple. Wolfsbane. The girl… The pin. It's all connected, but how?"

The headmaster leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the coffee table, revealing bright lime green knee high socks. Lazily, he watched the pendulum of the clock Severus had objected to swing from left to right and back again.

"Question is," the Headmaster mused, "what's the pin? And what's been given for what? They've both said they owed the other a favor, who went first? Curious, curious."

The clock ticked loudly, incessantly. Albus tsked along with it, deep in thought.

"Ah ha," he said finally, nodding to himself. "I see it, I see it. They've set it all up to fool me and they might have succeeded were it not for... It's all too fantastic; they're overplaying their hands.

"Simple answers to complicated problems. They arranged the scene with Ralf- I know I gave Severus an entrance slip to Headquarters in case of emergency a while back that he never used… he must think I've forgotten about it. That's how they let that Ralf fellow in- all staged. Kneeling about on the floor, how ridiculous.

"Then they spring the girl on me- knowing I'd make a connection between the two, yes, that's it. Question is, why does Remus go along with it all? The pin… yes, yes, the pin and the Wolfsbane."

Dumbledore began to hum softly to himself as he turned over the events of the last week in his mind. "Yes, yes," he thought, "Severus demanded the pin for the Wolfsbane, then the act for keeping mum about the pin… Powerful magic in it- but not a Ward- or, at least, not only a Ward…

"Question is," he thought on, "why is Severus so intent on hiding her? Probably his niece- I know he has nephews, not too much of a stretch… Perhaps, yes, yes, he's paranoid when it comes to the safety of his relations. He wants her safe from any connection to him, so he's hiding her in plain sight. Very clever, very clever…"

A knock on the door brought the old man out of his reverie. "Yes?"

"Sir," said Kingsley crisply, striding into the room, "I need your help."

Albus jumped to his feet. "What is it?"

"Vance is in a tiff, Molly's in hysterics, Bill's trying to keep Tonks and Hestia from stampeding to apologize to Remus, and Severus just stomped by looking like a storm cloud with an extra dose of lightning."

"Yes, yes," said Albus, "I'll help Bill, you tackle Emmeline."

"I'll do it," grumbled Kingsley, "I'll do it, but I won't like it."

"Good for you," said the Headmaster cheerily, on his way out the door, "develops your character."

"Oh, and Headmaster," said Kingsley, as they parted ways in the hallway, "nice socks."