A/N: All characters in this story (other than my own OC creations) are the property of JKR. I am happily borrowing her wonderful world. Updated 04/16/12

Chapter 52 – Russell's Dilemma

"Lockhart's gone?" Andrea asked curiously. "Again?"

"I am afraid so," the headmaster confirmed.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Severus sneered.

"Well, maybe he's got a good reason. Could he have gone to another book signing?" Andrea speculated uneasily. "Or a portrait sitting?"

"I think not," Severus snorted. "He's probably run away; the prospect of another hard day's work was too much for him."

"He has taken his things," Dumbledore added sadly. "I do not think he is coming back."

"Good riddance, I say." Severus muttered.

"You don't think there's been some foul play, do you?" Andrea suggested. "He seemed like such a nice man."

"I told you when you hired him: it was a mistake," Severus pointed out, unable to hold back his sourness.

"If you would have let me—"

"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted, but he was promptly cut off.

"I should have been the one teaching that class. I know every defensive spell and hex—"

"Severus-" The headmaster tried again in a much sharper tone, no longer able to reign in his annoyance. Snape, however, didn't seem to notice.

"I knew more before my first year at school than Lockhart's ever learned in his life. He's completely incompetent. How you could possibly have thought—"

"Severus! I need you to listen!" With a commanding air, Dumbledore's words boomed through the hospital ward, causing Poppy's head to peep out of her office. Albus immediately knew he was in trouble. Turning politely in the nurse's direction, he cleared his throat and smiled back. Although the mediwitch knew it wouldn't do any good, she gave him a stern look, followed by a few short clucks of her tongue. Satisfied with Dumbledore's apologetic expression, she returned to her office.

Although unorthodox, the bellowed order had managed to get Snape's attention. Having no other choice, he clamped his mouth shut and glared sullenly back at the headmaster to await the inevitable disappointment.

"I have made up my mind. There is nothing else to be done." Dumbledore paused. It was important to get the timing right. With a characteristic twinkle in his eye and a devilish smile pulling at his lips, he delivered his decision. "You will replace Lockhart."

Severus hardly moved. If anything, his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as he took in Dumbledore's statement. In typical Slytherin fashion, he was immediately suspicious.

"That's wonderful," Andrea exclaimed happily, but as she glanced back at her husband, the smile faded. With Severus, nothing was ever easy. Instead of excitement, or at least a twinge of satisfaction, she saw only skepticism. It radiated in waves off his body like an overdose of bad cologne. "What on earth is the matter now?" she asked him, her eyes blinking in disbelief.

"What must I do in return?" Snape asked icily. He ignored Andrea. Instead, he directed his question at the headmaster.

"Nothing," Dumbledore answered, but the old man's eyes had strayed evasively. "Nothing … really. But I regret to say, your new teaching assignment is only temporary."

"My, my, what a surprise," Severus replied with a scowl.

"It should only be for a few weeks, only until we find a replacement," Albus hurried to explain. "I am sorry, but you will have to teach in the evenings and on weekends if you intend to cover both Potions and Defense."

"I can give up sleeping if you like," Snape added, his reply dripping with sarcasm.

"That is hardly necessary," Dumbledore chuckled. "However, I can arrange for a substitute to cover any conflicts. I am sure Professor Flitwick or Professor Vector could assist—"

"Hey! What about me? I can teach Potions. It can't be that difficult." Andrea teased.

After a doubtful look at his wife, Snape turned back to Dumbledore. "I do not need assistance. I am perfectly capable—"

"Yes, yes, more than capable. But if you run into any trouble—"

"So what do you think happened to Gilderoy?" Andrea interjected strategically. "He didn't seem the type to abandon his contract. Perhaps there was some sort of emergency." She looked at Severus, hopefully trying to draw him out. She wanted his opinion.

Severus pressed his lips together at first, but he couldn't help but take the bait. "I concede. You seem to have a point. Only an emergency would take him away from Hogwarts and another chance at glory," Severus said with a sneer. "He would never miss such a ripe opportunity for fame."

A thoughtful glint appeared in Dumbledore's eye as he contemplated Severus's remark. "No, I think you are both wrong," he replied firmly. "I believe the chamber has claimed another victim."

"You're not suggesting he's … he's—" Andrea stammered.

"Dead? Oh no, my dear. I am sure he is quite well. I was simply playing with words. What I meant was that I may have overestimated Professor Lockhart courage."

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Stretching out in front of the hearth, Russell warmed his palms eagerly in the rising heat. He'd just come in from outside on this bitterly cold February evening, and his body had not yet recovered from the four mile walk from town. Apparating had been an option, but Russell always enjoyed the brisk walk to the Diggory house, even in the dead of winter. He found the frigid Wisconsin air a source of stimulating energy, and he had needed it tonight.

"Would you like some coffee? Or maybe some chai?" Amy asked sweetly. "It'll take the chill away."

"I'd rather take something a bit stronger – like a Firewhisky. Maybe you could mix a wee shot in with some hot apple cider?" Russell smiled broadly, anticipating the warm glow. Conspiratorially, he gave Amy a wink.

Mrs. Diggory was getting quite familiar with Russell's persuasive tactics. It was the second time that week he'd spent the evening at their Victorian country home. In fact, their discussions surrounding the growing MBI investigation had become increasingly intense.

"Sure." Amy grinned back. Russell was hard to resist. "I'll go heat some up. Rob, do we have any of those Extra Krunchy Crackers left?" Amy's mind was moving quickly as she tried to organize dinner. After a long day of editing Rune translations, she was anxious to get on with her evening.

As archivists for the Wisconsin University of Magic, the Diggorys collaborated on numerous projects, many directed toward the study of historical research and restorative work. In the process, they'd achieved national recognition in the fields of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Decoding unusually rare scripts was Amy's obsession, while Rob's skills for language and cultural interpretation were notably clairvoyant, bringing a magical flair for Divination to the team. Together, they made a perfect union, both at work and in their personal lives. Tonight was no exception.

Leaning over, Amy nudged her husband's shoulder before turning toward the kitchen. "Can you get the cheese dip, too?"

Rob looked up from his spot on the couch to grin at her in playful admiration. "Who needs food when I have you?" Amy rolled her eyes.

"Hey," Russell cut in. "What about me? I think the little lady might object to us sharing. Besides, she's already worked her special magic on the mushroom ravioli. I wouldn't want to spoil my appetite."

"True," Rob agreed and eagerly leapt off the couch. "I'll fix the salad and you—" he said pointing to Russell, "—you can set the table. While you're at it, why don't you give us the latest news? What's up with Jack?"

The threesome had moved into the large, farm-style kitchen, and as they began to prepare supper, Russell slid into the corner. With a practiced, casual air, he began to pull some plates out of the china hutch. Clearly, his familiarity with the layout indicated he was a frequent visitor.

"Actually, Jack's pretty upset," Russell confided as he shook his head. "It's been over a month now, and he's having a hard time. But heck, you guys know how he gets."

Indeed, the couple was very familiar with Jack's temperament. For more than a decade they'd worked closely with him solving unusual criminal cases, and they'd learned to deal with Jack's blunt, driving nature. Despite the rough edges, they admired his constant search for justice. In the process Jack had become a close friend, and Russell was happily taking advantage of that fact.

"Yeah, we know," Rob commented. "Jack doesn't like to fail." As he spoke, Rob twirled his cherry wood wand over the bowl, expertly dousing the greens with Italian dressing.

"We had a review this morning," Russell said meaningfully. "As of Tuesday, we finally finished the agent screening. Every single Auror on the Chicago team has been checked and double-checked. And then, just for Jack," Russell chuckled, "we checked them again. We've been looking for anything – any type of clue – that could nail down a spy. But since we came up empty, Jack had me start on the New York staff, and I'm still coming up with nothing. You'd think an organization as large as the MBI would have mountains of hidden dirt, but I can't find a thing. Not one clue. It just doesn't make sense." Puzzled, he nibbled on a cracker as he thought. He knew there was a mole – there just had to be.

"Don't worry. He'll make a mistake. Now that you're watching, it'll only be a matter of time," Rob offered.

"He or she," Amy laughed at Rob's use of the male pronoun. "Has Jack tried the West coast branch? LA always has something cooking."

"Well," Russell recalled. "There was this one bloke."

"Yeah? So what happened?" Rob asked curiously.

"To begin with, the guy's been in prison. Can you believe it?" Russell shook his head. "It was back in the early 80s, long before he became one of our own agents. Seems he got into a little argument with his wife, but she got feisty on him and hexed him back. They say his personal parts were stuck together for months." Russell was grinning at the thought, and Rob couldn't help but add a snicker of his own. They were both rewarded by a stern look from Amy.

"Yes, well, anyway." Russell cleared his throat and continued. "I think the judge felt sorry for him. They let him out after a couple years. What I don't get is how he got passed the security clearance."

"That is odd," Amy agreed. "There must have been extenuating circumstances."

"Hardly," Russell answered, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "There were plenty of witnesses, and it wasn't pretty. So, I still don't get it. Why would anyone in the bureau hire someone with that kind of background?"

"That's a good question. Unless someone covered it up," Amy said. "How did you find out about it?"

"That, little lady, is my secret," Russell replied with a wide grin.

"Yeah, Russell Plover – super snooper Auror," Amy shot back with a laugh.

"Yeah, but I'd still like to know why he was hired. Maybe someone on the inside wanted the guy," Rob speculated. "Do you know who hired him?"

"Not yet," Russell admitted. "But I can tell you – I'm going to find out. If this guy could get in, think of how many others could have slipped through?"

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After dinner, the three retired to the parlor and began to relax. Amy had cuddled up next to Rob, her head tucked neatly under her husband's chin. Across the room, Russell was stretched comfortably in a side chair, his well-muscled calves propped up on the footstool.

"So, Russell, I've always wondered. What brought you to England?" Amy inquired slyly. Knowing Russell's penchant for telling stories, she hoped her question would help him relax. "You apprenticed as a wand maker, isn't that right?"

"Oh, I was," Russell sighed. "My dad owned a shop, and I started out working for him, but after a few years, I got restless. There didn't seem to be enough excitement in my life, so I thought I'd try my hand at Auror training. I had a few mates on the force already, and they got me interested. After I joined up, I couldn't go back to being a shopkeeper. It just wasn't in the cards."

"That was in Auckland, wasn't it?" Amy asked, recalling an earlier conversation she'd had with Jack. She'd heard part of this story already, and she smiled wondering how much of it would be embellished.

"Yeah. I was right in the middle of things there, and it was exciting for a kid. Once I had a few years under my belt, I got promoted to Inspector. From there, I began to work with the government on some special assignments."

"Inspector! That's pretty impressive. How old were you then?" Amy questioned in astonishment.

"I was 28, and by then I was already looking for a change. When my commander recommended me for a position in the UK, I jumped at it. They wanted me to teach the British Aurors some of our espionage techniques. So, I spent three years working with the Ministry as a special trainer. You know, I'm particularly good with double-handed wand movements." Russell smiled thoughtfully as he remembered. "They hadn't heard of half the stuff we used in New Zealand.

"Just as we were finishing up a third year of classes, the Death Eaters started to regroup, and the Ministry decided it was time to deploy. They had a mind to keep an eye on some of the suspects. You know, just waiting for 'em to make a mistake. So, I volunteered, and they assigned me to Hogsmeade. They thought my experience as a shopkeeper would be great cover. As it turned out, it was perfect. I was able to keep watch on the school and the folks in town. As things developed, the Ministry became especially anxious about Snape. But since he was under Dumbledore's protection, I couldn't do much."

"Snape …" Amy echoed. "Did they have any evidence on him then?"

"No," Russell said, shaking his head. "I don't think so. Nothing recent, anyway."

"So why did they suspect him?" Amy sat up a little straighter.

"Dunno, exactly. They might have had something, but they didn't tell me about it."

"Were there others?" Rob wanted to know.

"That's the odd thing. I knew several suspected Death Eaters that had kids at the school, but none of the suspicious ones lived in Hogsmeade. Interestingly enough, the Ministry also wanted me to keep track of Headmaster Dumbledore. I suspect there were a few politicians that didn't trust him."

"Yeah," Rob agreed with a laugh. "After all, he did hire Snape."

"True," Russell nodded. "But I think it was more than that."

"So, you ended up in a wand shop in Hogsmeade," Amy said with a smile. "And you met Andrea."

"Yeah," Russell sighed. He didn't want to think about how he'd messed up with her. He'd had Andrea in the palm of his hand, and if he hadn't been such a fool, he'd have told her all about Snape, or at least that the Ministry suspected something. It would have easily been enough to keep her out of the wizard's clutches. But at the time, Russell had to keep his cover. And Andrea had been such a goldmine of information, relaying her thoughts about Dumbledore and the school.

But why had he let her fall for Snape? Surely he could have done something. Mired in his thoughts, Russell stared into the fire and swirled the last bit of Firewhisky around in his glass.

"Hey," Amy said as she rubbed Russell's shoulder. She'd gotten up to refill their glasses, but decided Russell needed some attention. "Don't think about it."

Russell flashed a weak smile and continued to stare into the fire. He didn't have to explain. His friends knew how he felt. The fight wasn't over. It would never be over – not until Andrea saw the light. There was something not right about Snape. Russell was sure of it, but proof had been elusive. Taking another swig of whisky, he felt the liquid burn his throat. The slight pain was followed by a sweet, mellow smoothness that bloomed on his tongue.

"I know you found us through Jack," Amy added. "But how did you get recommended for the MBI position?"

"I was very lucky," Russell explained. "My record with the Ministry saved me from Azkaban, but it was my second arrest."

"The second? Oh, that's right," Amy remembered. "There was that little incident in Hogsmeade when you … ah … had a little too much to drink."

"Yes. And this was the second time they let me off with a warning. I had no idea at the time why they did it, except maybe they wanted to get rid of me. It wasn't until later, when I began working with Jack, that the truth came out. It all started over a year earlier with that mess after Andrea's wedding. There were a lot of folks pretty upset at how the Ministry was handling the Death Eater attacks."

"The ones started by You-Know-Who when he tried to use the Snapes as a weapon?" Rob recalled angrily.

"Of course they'd blame the Ministry. Talk about incompetence. We didn't know what to do to help. It's amazing how everything turned out okay, thanks to you."

"I didn't do enough," Russell said slowly as he remembered. The vision of Voldemort attacking Andrea at the Riddle Mansion had caused a wave of nausea to pass through him. "Unfortunately, the Ministry did next to nothing, and people were angry. Some of them simply protested and wrote letters to the newspaper, but there were others that became a bit more rebellious. They started to take things into their own hands. A whole new terrorist effort was emerging, and the Ministry was scared."

"So you think they sent you over to America to look for terrorists?" Amy wondered. "Why here? They could be anywhere."

"That was just the point, I think. They wanted me to maintain my international connections, both in the US and New Zealand. Now that I'm working with the MBI, I can track what's going on and provide intelligence back to the Ministry."

"And you'd be out of their hair and away from your … um … personal problem?" Amy asked sympathetically.

"Yeah, go figure," Russell confirmed with a frown. Someday, he thought, he'd change Andrea's mind. Until then, he'd bide his time. There was bound to be another opportunity. If not, he'd just have to make his own.

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Toward the end of February, Andrea had once again become overwhelmed with the depressing lack of results by both the Ministry and the MBI in tracking down Ellenore's whereabouts. Although she tried to confide in Severus, he had his hands full substituting the Defense classes for Lockhart. The man had never returned: however, a letter of apology did eventually arrive for Dumbledore explaining a sudden onset of allergies brought on by Whomping Willow pollen. The unfortunate turn of events had forced the famous author into retirement.

Although glad to have the opportunity to prove his worth, Severus was finding the double teaching schedule nearly impossible. He was surviving on less than four hours sleep a night, and Dumbledore had no immediate candidates for replacement. Snape's mood had deteriorated with the added pressure, and Andrea had finally had enough.

One night, as Severus was hastily cleaning up his lab, Andrea appeared at the door. "It's two in the morning, or hadn't you noticed?" she said in a tight voice.

"I'll be done when I'm done. I do not need to be told when to come to bed," he grumbled as he directed several scrubbing brushes around the first row of lab tables.

"You're going to kill yourself," Andrea said softly. "Even you need some sleep. Maybe if you let up a little on the homework assignments—"

"I will not lower my standards just to give you a little more of my time," Severus hissed, but too late, he realized his mistake. Andrea's eyes narrowed dangerously as she looked across the room.

Taking a deep breath, Severus thought carefully before responding. There was no time in his schedule for an argument, but more than that, he needed her to understand. "The students are ridiculously behind – five or more chapters on average. The fifth years are nowhere near ready for their O.W.L.s, and the fourth years haven't even gotten to the basics of repelling hexes. Their scores are abysmal. Their quiz marks have been 50 percent lower than other years. Even Quirrell had better results."

Andrea continued to stare at him, her irritation growing. She uncrossed her arms and placed a hand on each hip.

Resolutely, he continued. "It is up to me to … to make them—"

"Make them?" Andrea repeated. "Make them what?"

"I … I have to show Dumbledore. I have to prove—"

"Prove that you're the better teacher? He knows that."

"Pfft," Severus spat as he flicked his wand. The jars of green slime lying in a jumble on a back table righted themselves and slid to the center.

"Why do you think he asked you in the first place?"

"There was no one else. There is still no on else, and I will—"

"Be an idiot?" Andrea shot back. Severus growled.

Andrea marched up to him and grabbed his wand. She'd done it so fast and without magic that he'd been completely caught off guard. Expecting an outburst, Andrea quickly stepped back and pointed her own wand at him. Severus, however, simply sat down on a stool and began to rub his eyes.

"Let the rest of the staff help you," Andrea suggested. His long fingers moved silently to rub his forehead, covering his face. "I talked to Dumbledore," Andrea continued quietly. "Each of the staff can take one class a day."

The arms slackened, and Severus placed one hand on each knee. His eyes stayed closed.

"You can direct the staff and monitor everyone's progress." Slowly, Snape's back straightened, but as Andrea waited, he said nothing. "We'll follow your direction entirely. Work assignments, topics, whatever you—"

"Okay," he said in a small voice.

"What?" she replied, leaning forward, unable to believe her ears.

His mouth had opened slightly, and his eyes lifted tiredly to meet hers. "I said … okay," he repeated.

"Oh, Severus." Andrea sighed and took him in her arms. "Thank you."

"Is it possible we could stop talking and go to bed now?" he asked wearily. Although exhausted, Severus felt a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Okay," she said and pulled him up. "So, when do I start?"

Severus laughed and shook his head as they started toward the stairs. "You, my dear wife, will be in charge of cauldron cleaning."

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"You know I actually came to talk to you about something else," Andrea admitted later as they got ready for bed.

"All right," Severus replied. "Out with it. If you don't tell me now, you won't sleep, and I won't either listening to your sighs."

"Don't," Andrea frowned. "This is serious."

Severus reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. With unusual tenderness, he pulled her into his arms. "Maybe it's because I'm barely able to keep my eyes open, or maybe it's simply a spell you've cast on me, but I have no desire for wordplay games tonight. Tell me. I'm listening."

Andrea took a deep breath and sighed, the air escaping heavily from her nostrils.

"Sigh number one …" he murmured into her ear.

Knowing it was now or never, she blurted it out. "I'm going to write to Lucius."

"What? You will do no such thing," Severus did not release her. Instead, his grip tightened.

"I just can't stand it anymore. I'm going to ask him – no – beg him for mercy. Whatever it takes, I d-don't care," Andrea's voice trembled as a giant knot appeared in her throat.

"Don't be ridiculous," he whispered sadly.

"I can, and I w-w-will," she sniffed.

"You don't even know where he is."

"We can give the letter to Dobby. Or maybe Draco? I don't know. I've just got to do something."

"Let's talk about it in the morning," Severus couldn't think straight, he was so tired, but there was no way he'd ever condone Andrea writing to Malfoy. As it were, Severus had been thinking of that route for many weeks, but he'd been delaying in the hopes that some other alternative would save them from giving in to Lucius's treachery.

Although Severus knew they had to act soon, he'd been putting it off almost at all costs, knowing that the only way to deal with Lucius was to bargain and bargain big. The price was bound to be very steep and ultimately dangerous whatever Lucius proposed. But would Lucius admit he'd taken Ellenore? Not, he thought, unless I offer my soul … or something close to it. It was a debt Severus did not want to take on. But, with careful planning, perhaps eternal servitude could be avoided.

"It won't make any difference," Andrea replied stubbornly.

This time it was Severus's turn to sigh. He took her head in his hands, and pressed his palms firmly against her cheeks. "No. You will not attempt to contact Lucius. Promise me!" He said the words softly, but the force of the meaning came as a blast from his lips. Her reaction was one of shock, her eyes widening in surprise at his intensity. He was scaring her. A part of him was glad. He wanted her to be afraid, but not of him. Carefully, his own expression softened. "You must promise," he whispered. "Please. Trust me. I'll take care of this."

"All right," Andrea answered. "Then, you do it. But I – want – an – answer." Each word Andrea spoke came in an angry spitfire. "Give him whatever he wants. I don't care anymore. Just do it!"

Later that day, Severus sat at his desk in the Potions office staring at a blank piece of parchment. What should he write? What would get Lucius's attention? Deciding discretion was the best way to begin, Severus sent a formal message requesting a meeting. It was direct and needed no translation or interpretation. They both knew what was to be discussed. Sending it in care of the school board, he began to wait.

A/N: Thanks to all that have added this story to your favorites or alerts. A special thanks again to my loyal reviewer Mrs. Volterra. Please review. It fuels my muse. As always, thanks to my beta Fainting Fancies.