FIFTY FIVE – The Riddle House, The Scar

"Dumbledore!" Snape burst into the Headmaster's office quite randomly a couple of weeks into the summer.

"Severus, this is a surprise," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "What – "

Snape peeled back his left sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark on his arm. "Pettigrew found the Dark Lord; I felt the Mark twinge."

Any trace of cheerfulness disappeared from Dumbledore's demeanor. He looked utterly serious and extremely concerned. "Had I not asked you to pay attention, Severus, would you have noticed?"

Snape shook his head. "It was too faint. I doubt anyone else would have sensed it. No one else knows Pettigrew is still alive, they're not looking for any signs."

"What do you think of this, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. "Do you think Voldemort will be able to return?"

Snape's frown became more pronounced when Dumbledore said Voldemort's name. "Yes," he said steadily. "I believe he will find a way."

Dumbledore connected his fingertips and looked thoughtful.

"Dumbledore, something must be done," Snape said rather desperately.

"I am aware, Severus," Dumbledore patiently responded. "Not being able to prove that Pettigrew is still alive complicates things greatly, though. Without him, Fudge will never believe the unlikely story we have to tell him now."

"Bring Potter, Weasley, and Granger back," Snape suggested. "Convince them to take a truth potion. Let Fudge question them."

"Fudge will not believe even then, Severus," Dumbledore said. His eyebrows drew together as he thought. "He does not want to believe that the wrong man was imprisoned for twelve years while the real culprit behind Lily and James's murders was living comfortably as a pet."

"He's a fool!"

"Yes, Severus, he is," Dumbledore sighed. "You cannot deny the story sounds very farfetched, however."

"Still, something must be done," Snape continued to press.

Dumbledore took another silent moment. "Go send word to Filius, Minerva, and Pomona that I would like them to return here as soon as they can."

If Snape had questions, he did not voice them as he swept out of the office.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and thought of what he was about to do. It would mean countless arguments, hundreds of letters, and dozens of meetings, but it had to be done. Alliances needed to be forged. It had to be done.


McGonagall threw open her office door and looked around with a frown on her face. For once she had been having a "normal" summer. The one time she actually needed to come back to Hogwarts early –

"Minerva!"

McGonagall jumped slightly and wheeled around to face Sprout. "Would you be so kind as to knock next time, Pomona?"

"I thought you would have been back here a week and a half ago," Sprout said, disregarding McGonagall's negativity.

"No," McGonagall said shortly. "I was staying with my niece, Isobel, actually. She's asked me to help her become an Animagus."

"Well that must make Auntie Minerva proud," Sprout said with an annoying smile.

"It does, actually," McGonagall admitted. She sighed heavily. "Depending on what it is Dumbledore's called us in for, I'll have to owl Isobel and tell her I won't be able to come back this summer."

"I went and saw Severus earlier today. He was packing a trunk," Sprout said.

McGonagall groaned. "Malcom went through such trouble to get us all tickets for the Quidditch Cup, and now I'll have to tell him I can't go!"

"What's got you spending so much time with your family all of a sudden?" Sprout asked.

"Isobel asked me to tutor her and things just snowballed from there," McGonagall answered. "I also just have a –" she paused to think of the word she wanted, " – a bad feeling about this year, like I won't be able to go anywhere next summer."

"Haven't started looking into crystal balls, have you?" Sprout inquired with a raised brow.

"Don't be ridiculous," McGonagall snapped, back to her usual self in an instant. "If you're through poking fun at me, we've got a meeting to get to." She waved Sprout out of her office, then closed the door.

"You're very nearly late," Dumbledore said in way of greeting as McGonagall and Sprout entered his office and sat with Flitwick and Snape.

Various smart remarks flitted through McGonagall's head, but she refrained from voicing them. "What's this all about?" she asked instead.

"I spoke to you all at the end of last term about whom Peter Pettigrew might seek out as his new protector," Dumbledore said without any further preamble. "It has happened."

McGonagall felt her stomach drop.

"P-Pettigrew found You-Know-Who?" Flitwick squeaked.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. As his Heads of House reacted, he continued, "I cannot hide that I am very much afraid that Voldemort –" he ignored the frowns and flinches, " – will find a way to return with Pettigrew's help."

"Potter," McGonagall said automatically. "We've got to get Potter somewhere safe where we can keep an eye on him!"

"Minerva – "

"You-Know-Who's going to think that Harry's the only thing standing in his way, Albus! He'll – "

"Rest assured that Harry is perfectly safe with his aunt and uncle," Dumbledore said.

"That does nothing to assure me, Albus," McGonagall said with a slight snort, thinking back to the year previous when Vernon has sworn not to let Harry back in his house.

"I believe Arthur Weasley is attempting to get Mr. Potter a ticket to the World Cup," Dumbledore patiently continued to reason. "He'll be with the Weasleys soon, I'm sure."

McGonagall's fingers began to roll over the arm of her chair. She did not look wholly convinced, but let the matter go for the time being.

"If Voldemort is to return, which I have a most unpleasant feeling he will, – and, unfortunately, such feelings of mine tend to prove themselves correct – we must start preparing for him now," Dumbledore boldly stated.

"How on earth do you suggest going on about that?" Sprout asked. "We can't simply go parading around shouting out what we think. We've no proof! No one will believe us."

"I am not concerned with preventing the inevitable, Pomona," Dumbledore replied. "The rest of the world will come to know that he is returning. I've said we need to prepare for him."

"What's going on inside your head now, Albus?" McGonagall asked skeptically.

"Having a web of friends and allies across the globe will do us no harm," Dumbledore said. "I've begun work on resurrecting the Triwizard Tournament."

There was a collective gasp from three out of the four Heads of House.

"The Tournament was disbanded for a reason, Dumbledore," Snape said tightly, "several of them, actually."

"I'm well aware, Severus," said Dumbledore evenly. "Every possible precaution will be taken to keep participating students as safe as can be during the tasks."

"One in three participants of the Triwizard Tournament died, Dumbledore," McGonagall said through slightly gritted teeth.

"I've examined those statistics, Minerva. Most of the students that had the misfortune of dying in the Tournament were underage. There will be an age restriction strictly enforced this time around. Only those seventeen or older will be able to enter."

Much though she might not like it, students seventeen and older were at perfect liberty to risk their lives as they pleased, and so McGonagall switched her support in favor of Dumbledore and the Triwizard Tournament.

"You're still mad," Sprout said.

"What reason do you plan on handing Fudge?" McGonagall asked, earning an affronted glare from Sprout.

Dumbledore smiled slightly as he recognized he had his deputy on his side once more. "It is a great tragedy of this day and age that young witches and wizards rarely travel abroad to see the practices of other cultures of our kind. The Triwizard Tournament offers the perfect opportunity for students to expand their practical knowledge beyond things taught at Hogwarts."

"Fudge will be further convinced if you mention that the Tournament is also an excellent opportunity to show 'his' school's skills and talents," Flitwick added wisely.

"Thank you, Filius," Dumbledore said happily.

"What do you need us to do to start preparing?" McGonagall asked.

"I need you to pack," Dumbledore answered. At the prompting of confused looks, he continued, "I believe Igor Karkaroff and Olympe Maxime ought to be informed of our plans, don't you?"

"You're sending us off to Beauxbatons and Durmstrang?" McGonagall asked dully.

"That ought to be the job of the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Snape said, looking much darker than he had before Dumbledore had suggested traveling.

"The Department of International Magical Cooperation will assist more proactively once the World Cup is through.

"Pomona, Filius, Madame Maxime expects you at Beauxbatons in three days," Dumbledore said, walking around his desk to hand Flitwick and Sprout each a letter embossed with elegant blue writing on their fronts. "A formal invitation," he explained.

McGonagall's eyebrows drew together as Dumbledore held out letters to her and Snape with crude red writing. "Durmstrang," she said lowly. She knew her temperament was far better suited for Durmstang than Flitwick's or Sprout's, but that did not make her any happier about going. "When?"

"Four days," Dumbledore answered. "I suggest leaving tomorrow morning if you wish to be on time."

McGonagall glanced sideways at Snape. He looked even unhappier about being sent to Durmstrang than she felt. With a deep sigh, she stood up. "Then we ought to begin packing." She left the office without another word.

Snape stayed rooted in his chair as Sprout, then Flitwick left. He waited a few moments after the door closed before speaking. "What do you want me to do with Karkaroff?" he asked.

"What do you know of his loyalties?" Dumbledore asked, leaning against his desk.

"They lie with himself," Snape said.

"And if Voldemort were to return to power?"

"Karkaroff will do what he believes to be in his best interest. By no means will he be reliable."

"And what of you, Severus?"

Snape's eyes became as dark as could be. "Are you asking where my loyalties lie?" he hissed.

"Yes," Dumbledore said simply.

Snape gave a sneer with anger burning in his eyes. "I have made it clear to whom I am loyal, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore nodded. "Then what will become of you when Voldemort does return, Severus?"

"If I am to live, I will have to convince him of my loyalty or never step foot outside Hogwarts," Snape said matter-of-factly.

"The former, I think," said Dumbledore. "Do not let Karkaroff know Voldemort is rising again. We must wait to see when he notices."

"And when the Mark finally burns?"

"I would recommend beginning to brush up on your Occlumency, Severus. I will ask you to serve us in the way that only you can be trusted to," Dumbledore said slightly ominously as he avoided directly mentioning the harsh lifestyle that awaited the Potions Master.

Snape paled slightly, then finally rose from his seat. "Have you ever realized that you ask too much of people, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "It is something I feel the need to do far too often."

Snape swept out of the office without another word.


The following morning, Snape heaved his and McGonagall's trunks into a thestral-drawn carriage while McGonagall had a few last words with Hagrid.

"Is there anything we'll have to do for the thestrals, Hagrid?" McGonagall asked.

"Nah," said Hagrid. "They'll find their own food. Jus' make sure they've got somewhere ter stay overnigh'. Not used to the cold they got up at Durmstrang, I reckon."

McGonagall's lips thinned slightly at the mention of the cold. She was not at all thrilled about having to wear gloves and her thickest cloak in August.

"Minerva," Snape called form the carriage.

McGonagall sighed and looked around at the pleasant grounds of Hogwarts before heading over to the carriage.

"See yeh in a few days!" Hagrid said all too cheerily as he closed the door after Snape and McGonagall both climbed in.

"You've got the letter Dumbledore wanted us to bring?" Snape asked as the carriage took flight.

"Yes," McGonagall said shortly as she looked out the window. "I still say we should have just Apparated the whole way there."

"Durmstrang's out of range, Minerva," Snape drawled.

"I'm not stupid, Severus," McGonagall bit back. "I know Durmstrang's out of range; it's out of everyone's range! We could have Apparated from place to place within range until we got there instead of taking thestrals, though."

"Appearing at Durmstrang's gates would not impress Karkaroff," Snape said. "He'll be happier if he can see us coming from a distance."

"Karkaroff needs to loosen up a bit," McGonagall said as she pulled out a book.

"Karkaroff will also be more willing to do as we suggest if we keep ourselves in check. He's not a fan of shrews."

"Are you insinuating that I'm a shrew?" McGonagall asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Snape answered bluntly.

"Charming," McGonagall huffed and pulled her book up in front of her face resolutely to avoid looking at Snape.


Author's Note

And so begins 4th year. Well, sort of... technically school hasn't started yet, so one could argue that it's not REALLY 4th year yet... ... ...

Reviews are preeeeeetttttyy.