Chapter 36

He hated now to think of it but, in truth, he could not remember their names, if indeed he had ever known them, or even how many there had been – there had been that many. What Severus Snape did recall most vividly, what haunted him still, was the look in their eyes just before he killed them. They had been fearful, pleading and sometimes they had been accusing like Claudia's just were. They were the ones he could never forget, the ones that tormented him still.

He fisted up his hands in front of his eyes. Was this to be his fate? Were his victims now to rise from their graves? To come back through the veil and denounce him? To inflict the same agonies on him that he had inflicted on them? He had once naively believed that if he assisted in defeating Lord Voldemort he would gain some measure of peace but he knew now that he never would. Nothing he could do would wipe the slate clean.

He fled from headquarters into the cold, wet night. He did not disapparate right away. Quite simply, he was not steady enough to do so safely so Snape walked through the darkness trying to think about what had just happened, how things had unraveled, spun out of control. He knew he had to pull himself together so that he could return to Hogwarts. There was Malfoy to be dealt with and he needed to see Dumbledore. Because of the delay, it took longer than usual to return to the castle and by that time Snape was beside himself. He headed straight to his rooms.

Throwing open the door, Severus quickly surveyed the room. Hermione Granger was slumbering peacefully in a chair. She seemed to be under the influence of a sleeping draught but Draco Malfoy was wide-awake and jumped up to meet him.

Snape did not hesitate. With one fluid motion he grabbed the front of Malfoy's robes and threw him against the stone wall.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he demanded.

Malfoy's expression turned fearful and he stammered unintelligibly.

"You fail to mention the fact that you are already working for the Dark Lord. What exactly are you doing for him?"

"Nothing important, sir," he answered, rubbing his neck. "I'm just watching -"

"Who are you watching?" Snape's eyes glinted and he shook the boy roughly. "Are you watching me?"

Draco vehemently denied it. "No. It's Dumbledore he's interested in. He's got me watching who goes in and out of his office." He fumbled in his pocket and produced a crumpled slip of parchment.

After waving a wand across it, Snape was able to discern a number of names listed in Malfoy's small, neat hand. "Potter, Trelawney, Neville Longbottom, Augusta Longbottom, Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody. This list is useless. Students, staff members, personal friends … of what possible use can these be to the Dark Lord."

Malfoy shrugged. "I really don't know, sir."

"And you don't care either," Snape snapped. "As long as it doesn't put you in any danger. I suggest you consider where your loyalties lie. Neither side will welcome a coward."

Draco looked uneasy. "But you are going to help me, right?"

Snape fixed him with a look of disdain. "My word remains true but, if I perceive the slightest hint of treachery on your part, I shall have to act as I see fit." He gritted his teeth and added. "If you don't think that's enough of a threat, just ask your father. He'll tell you exactly what old Severus Snape is capable of!"

Malfoy shrank back looking revolted.

He does not need to ask Lucius, Snape realized. He knows what I've done. The expression on his student's face only seemed to deepen Severus' anguish. Accused again – would he ever be free?

"Get out!" he screamed. "Get out!"

Draco looked simultaneously confused and scared. "But what about Granger?"

"Just get out!"

Draco ran out of the room but Snape was in no state to deal with the complex magic needed to erase the girl's memory. His only thought was to get to Dumbledore and he, too, headed back into the corridors. He virtually screamed the password to Dumbledore's rooms and stumbled in. Thinking the slamming of the heavy oaken doors would have awakened the old wizard, he was surprised to still hear snores emanating from the bedchamber.

"Dumbledore!" Severus cried, throwing open the bed curtains. "Dumbledore!"

Albus woke immediately to the sight of a wild-eyed Severus Snape leaning over him. His hair was disheveled and pieces of leaves and twigs stuck out of it at odd angles.

"Dumbledore!" He continued to cry, even though the old wizard was clearly awake.

Dumbledore – it was always Sir or Headmaster but never his name – and never in this desperate tone. Albus' heart began to race. Something catastrophic must have happened. He leapt out of bed. "The boy – is he safe?"

"Yes, yes."

Upon taking a closer look at his colleague, Dumbledore became fearful for Snape. Were those his Death Eater robes? Had he been wearing them in the school? And why were they in such disarray?

"Severus, your mark," Dumbledore whispered, appalled, for his sleeve was rolled up past his elbow.

Snape stared down at it. "Yes, yes, I know it's there." He rubbed at it fiercely and Dumbledore saw that it was red, as if he had been rubbing it all night. "It will never come off!"

"Severus, what has happened?" Dumbledore asked fearfully as he pulled Snape's sleeve securely over his mark. "Did Voldemort send for you?"

But the distraught man had already stumbled into Dumbledore's personal study, muttering things that Albus could not understand.

"I saw her!" Snape exclaimed. "I saw her!"

"Who?"

"Claudia, Claudia Moody!"

Albus felt a cold chill. Snape was not making any sense at all. Had his work as a double agent, the work that he, Dumbledore, had put him up to, broken his mind?

"Severus, pray calm yourself," he said rather sharply. He inhaled slowly. "Take some of this draught. It will relax you. I can hardly hope to assist you in such a state."

Predictably, Snape refused the potion and continued to ramble on incoherently.

Dumbledore knitted his brows. He needed to find out what had taken place but with Severus in this condition, it seemed impossible. A tin of calming powders lay by the fireplace. If he could manage to sneak it into the flames, he was certain that Severus would be affected, allowing him to be questioned.

"At least come and sit by the fire," Dumbledore told him. "You may find it desirable to walk around in damp robes but I find it rather drafty in my nightdress."

Much too distracted to notice the old wizard throw a handful of powder into the fire or see it suddenly flash green, Snape wandered over and perched stiffly onto the end of the couch. He told a wild tale in which a Death Eater blackmailed him to kill Bellatrix Lestrange and then turned into Alastor Moody's dead wife.

Dumbledore could not make head or tails of it. "It could not have been Claudia Moody. You know very well that she is dead."

Snape fixed him with an odd look, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe the old man. Still, Albus was relieved to note that the crazed look was beginning to fade from his eyes. The drug he had put into the fireplace was starting to take effect.

"Who else could it be?"

"Someone is obviously impersonating her." He felt as if he were speaking to a young child. Snape seemed beyond all reason. "Anything else would be impossible."

"Impersonating her? To what avail?"

"To throw you off balance – to manipulate you. Evidently she's been successful."

"If that is the case, then they know. They know what happened that night." Snape's eyes darted around wildly. "If they tell the Dark Lord, it will be over for me but not before he's discovered your plans for his defeat."

"Severus," Dumbledore began slowly. "I'm not certain that this individual does know. It's beyond me to see how she could. Still, I am inclined to be cautious. As you say, there is much at risk."

"Headmaster, there is something I have not told you," Snape confessed. "This woman is the spy I warned you about before. She introduced herself to me as Claudia only I did not mention it before as I became … unsettled."

Here Albus became even more alarmed. Snape had deliberately misled him over the identity of the spy and Dumbledore knew why he had done so. It was because of Claudia Moody and what she represented – emotions that Severus Snape was incapable of dealing with. It was a double-edged sword. Feelings such as these had led the man to join Dumbledore but they were also a weakness, one which someone was clearly attempting to exploit.

"Her information is extremely accurate," Snape informed him. "She spoke about Potter's use of the Killing Curse and your desire to expel him from Hogwarts. I told no on about that discussion and the only other person in the room was Remus Lupin."

Dumbledore leaned back and put the tips of his fingers together. This was a riddle. He had certainly not spoken to anyone about it and he trusted both men implicitly. "I did have a conversation with Harry about it …"

Snape pulled a greasy tendril. "You think the Dark Lord may have combed it from his mind?"

"Possibly, possibly. Certainly the mind connection is quite strong. He may even have sensed something during Occlumency lessons with you." Dumbledore shook his head. He could only guess how the information had leaked out. "I think it's time you discontinued those lessons."

"He's far from mastering the skill."

"Undoubtedly, but, as you well know, Occlumency will have little to no effect on Voldemort's incursions into Potter's mind because of their inherent connection. They were only ever meant for appearances, for other people's peace of mind."

"I'm meant to be giving him instruction in the Dark Arts," Snape reminded him. "I need some one-on-one time with the boy."

Here Dumbledore managed a smile. "Well, give him detention, then. I daresay you can find a reason."

Finally, Snape filled him in as to the rest of the story from Draco's plea for help to Bellatrix Lestrange's youthful transformation. It was not in Snape's character to act so rashly and Dumbledore was not pleased that he had done so, for he had placed them in a very bad position.

"What on am I to do about Claudia and Bellatrix?" Snape asked anxiously.

Albus sighed deeply. "I shall have to think about that. In any case, there is nothing to be done now. I want you to return to your rooms and erase Miss Granger's memory of tonight. You must get some rest. Professor Grubbly-Plank will take your classes today and I shall put out the word that you are brewing an important solution for me. I don't want to encounter you out in the corridors."

Snape's eyes flashed fiercely as he attempted to argue the point.

"I need time," Dumbledore told him, "to formulate our best course of action and you are overwrought. Until you regain your composure, I cannot trust that you will not inadvertently compromise the Order."

Suddenly, Snape appeared quite ill. He seemed on the verge of saying something important but only inquired after the status of the stone in the forest.

Albus stared at the man. Clearly he was correct to question Snape's frame of mind. "Severus, surely these are enough concerns without adding to them. The stone is quite safe, quite well protected."

"The Dark Lord is after it."

"Yes, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "I've already foiled two of his attempts but, for all Voldemort knows, what's hidden in the forest is my championship wizard chess trophy. Now how much effort do you think he's going to expend to discover how many moves it took me to defeat Nicholas Flamel back in aught five?"

Snape looked morose. Evidently he did not appreciate the levity. He never did. Albus saw him for what he was, a soul in torment, and he lamented any part that he had played in making him so.

"I know why you risked your life for Draco Malfoy," he told him gently. "You wanted to spare him the kind of life you led under Voldemort."

Snape did not respond.

"That was not the act of a soulless man, Severus. Take heart."

Finally Snape retreated to his rooms, leaving Dumbledore to ponder what had happened and what should be done. In all his years with Severus Snape, he had never seen him this worked up and yet he had been in many dangerous situations. Whoever was impersonating Claudia Moody was a force to be reckoned with. What exactly did she know about Snape and how was she gathering confidential information about Harry Potter?

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a knock at the door. Albus cringed. Now what? But it was only Dobby bringing up a tray of chocolate biscuits.

"Dobby saw your light, sir, and Dobby thought you might want refreshment – working as late as you are."

"Dobby," Dumbledore chastised gently. "I've spoken about this before. You are not required to work on your off days."

"'Tis not work, sir," Dobby declared. "'Tis an honor to serve you."

The old wizard smiled. "Ah, well, my thanks to you then," he said warmly. "But if that's the case, and you wouldn't mind, I've a bit of a craving for peppermint humbugs tonight."

"Certainly, sir," Dobby squeaked gleefully, spinning back to the door.

"One second, Dobby. That light in the far tower – is it Professor Lupin's?"

Dobby nodded vigorously. "Many nights he works straight through until morning, at least when he is well."

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Might I ask you a small favor?"

Dobby was barely able to contain himself. Apparently, there was nothing else he'd rather do.

"Rather than let these delectable treats go to waste, why don't you take them to our hard-working Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"Twill be Dobby's pleasure, sir," he made to leave but turned back when Dumbledore continued to speak.

"You must ask him when he's going to bring that lovely Miss Tonks to tea with us. Hogwarts would like to honor her. I know he'll say she's too busy," Dumbledore clucked. "And I can understand that, truly I can – young people, you know, but Minerva …"

He leaned conspiratorially towards the house elf. "Well, Minerva's a funny old thing. And if the young lady doesn't come – well, I fear she'll take it as a snub to Hogwarts."

Dobby gasped as though appalled.

"Very well then, Dobby. You had better get these biscuits up to him while he's still burning the midnight oil."