Claire breathed a relieved sigh. "You won't regret this, I promise!" She threw a look at the shackles around Severus' wrists, twirling her wand. After a short hesitation, she turned away and said, "Come along."

She started walking, her long robes and elegant gait making it seem almost like she floated. Severus, on the other hand, waddled after her, his walk impeded by his shackled hands.

"Oh, by the way," she said, "You haven't bought your dress robes in vain. I can dance. Tomorrow night, everyone at the ball will stand in awe before you. Before us."

After they had crossed the school grounds and entered Hogsmeade, Claire led him to the Three Broomsticks – the more respectable of the two inns in Hogsmeade village. Tonight, however, its windows were dark. Claire walked around the building and opened a side door, which swung open soundlessly. Severus had to duck his head to avoid hitting it on the low door frame. Claire led him up a narrow set of wooden stairs that ended in a long corridor.

Claire did not walk down the corridor, but wrenched open a tattered door to their left. A small room with simple wooden furniture came into view. In fact, it looked not unlike Severus' room at the Hog's Head. A lady with large blond curls and bejewelled spectacles sat at a round table that stood in the middle of the room, dictating quietly to a quill that raced back and forth on a piece of parchment. When Claire and Severus entered, the lady jumped up and extended both her arms towards Claire. "Darling!" she exclaimed. "How— lovely— to see you!" she said in between kissing Claire on both cheeks. She looked past Claire and examined Severus with pursed lips. "Well, well, well. If it isn't our man of the hour! We will make you the man of the year. Oh, what am I saying – of the century! Sit."

Severus remained standing. Had he known it was Rita Skeeter who waited for him, he would not have come. Or, at least, he would have needed more persuasion. Every other word that woman put to paper was a lie.

Claire saw his hesitation. "Don't worry, honey," she said, "Your story is in the best hands. No one knows how to compel the masses like Rita." The two women exchanged a look and smiled at each other meaningfully.

"Sit," Rita repeated. He obeyed this time, putting his shackled hands into his lap. Rita smiled sweetly and set her acid-green quill onto a fresh piece of parchment. "Let's not waste any more time, I need this to go into print tomorrow morning. Tell me about your childhood. And don't spare any details, my quill can keep up with you. How was your relationship with your father?" The quill immediately started scribbling,

'Unconventionally handsome' - not the first words you would think when hearing the name Severus Snape, but surprisingly, they are true. The man formerly known as greasy-haired and sour-looking has transformed himself.

Severus tore his gaze away from the parchment, upon which the quill was racing back and forth. "My father," he began, "despised me."

Rita perked up, her eyes glinting. "Go on!"

It turned out to be much easier than he had thought. He was used to talking about his past so much by now that the answers came automatically. And the quill, he noticed, gave his story exactly the tragic undertone that Claire had promised. If this was all it took to redeem himself before the wizarding world, his anxiety of the past months had been unnecessary.

Halfway during the interview, the photographer arrived. He greeted the women by kissing them on the cheek and awkwardly shook Severus' hand, giving the shackles a brief, curious glance. The photographer was a small, wiry man with a tiny patch of beard underneath his lower lip. Several leather bags hung over his shoulders. As he started unpacking noisily, he said, "Don't mind me, I'm just setting up. I'll get to you in a minute. And those will have to go." He gestured at the shackles.

While Severus talked to Rita, the photographer waved his wand, directing large lamps filled with floating luminous balls into different corners of the room, sorted through books on the shelf behind Severus and rearranged some of the furniture.

"Right!" The photographer clapped his hands, interrupting Severus mid-sentence. "What I want you to do is, I want you to listen to Rita's questions and then, instead of answering straight away, I want you to look into the camera, okay, while you hold the answer in your head, and really think about what you will say for a moment before you speak, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"I suppose," Severus said. He lifted his shackled hands and gave Claire a questioning look. Claire gazed at him shrewdly. For a moment, the room was silent. Eventually, Claire made the shackles disappear with a wave of her wand. Severus gave her a small smile.

Rita said, "Lovely, I'll just go on then. Your Dark Mark – how did you feel about it after you decided to become a double agent?"

Severus tried to formulate the answer in his head before he spoke. It was hard to focus with the camera clicking rapidly and the photographer dancing from one side to the other, then closer, then further away, all while muttering "That's it", "Right there", and "Good, good!" under his breath. Under normal circumstances, Severus would have shut that fool up with a few well-chosen words and an icy stare. But today, he swallowed his irritation.

"Now," the photographer said after a while, "Forget everything I just told you and just act natural. Act natural. As if I'm not here, okay? Can you do that?" He proceeded to assume the most impossible positions. He stood on the table, draped himself over the backrest of Rita Skeeter's chair, and lay down on the floor between Severus and her, all while making his camera click maniacally.

It went on like this for about fifteen minutes before he interrupted the interview yet again, saying, "I think I got what I need." With a wave of his wand, his equipment soared back into the leather bags. Thankfully, he left the furniture where it was.

About an hour after the photographer had gone, the interview was finally over. Severus was utterly exhausted, but he felt light, relieved. He had done it, told it all. With every new question from Rita he had felt more like an interesting person who had something exciting to say. Someone worth listening to. The reporter had left with a fat wad of parchments filled with the scribbles of her Quick-Quotes Quill and the gleeful promise to write the best piece of her career so far.

Now, he and Claire were finally alone.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Claire said as she leaned her chin on her interwoven fingers.

"Surprisingly, it wasn't." Severus looked at her thoughtfully.

"Life is so easy when you know the right people. And I am 'the right people'." She gazed at him. "'Unconventionally handsome', huh?" she quoted.

"You saw that." A tiny smile appeared on Severus' face.

"Yes. And I agree with it."

"Thank you for trusting me and removing those shackles."

"There is something in your eyes... I'm good at reading people, you know. I can see that you won't resist. I can see that you have chosen to stay with me."

"You were right, about all of it. This is so much easier than working with the Healer. I feel liberated. I should have gone with you before. I'm sorry it took me so long."

"Awww," made Claire, "Better late than never, right?"

Severus smiled and nodded.

Claire got up and walked to where he sat. She traced her finger across his cheek, then stretched out her hand for him to take. "From now on, life will be sweet. You never need to worry about anything ever again. You made the right choice."

He took her hand and stood up. "I think so too." He pulled her into his arms. She let out a delighted little gasp and wrapped her arms around him. "Can we go somewhere else?" he whispered into her hair, "Your place?"

Claire looked up at him, beaming. "I knew you'd come around! It's time to burst through that chastity belt." She gave him a longing look, then took his hand and pulled him from the room, down the stairs and into the night. She strode back towards the school gates, Severus in her wake.

"Do you need to message someone to release Mette?" he asked.

Claire stopped, turned, and eyed him suspiciously. "I'll do that when we're at my quarters. Why do you still care about that?"

Severus gave her arm a little pull so she had to take a stumbling step towards him. He caught her in his arms. She smiled triumphantly as he pushed a strand of hair out of her face. "No reason," he said softly. "I was just curious how you managed to get her away so quickly and efficiently" He inclined his head. Their lips were all but touching. Claire gazed deep into his eyes.

His wand was close to him now, close enough to feel its magic connect to him. If there ever was a time to do Legilimency without holding his wand in his hand, it was now.

Her thoughts were swirling rapidly. With painstaking effort, he managed to extract an image. A huddled, unmoving figure lay on the ground by a wall. Before he could see anything else, the image flickered and was washed away by others. Half dead by now, a voice whispered. It was quickly drowned out by loudly echoing giggles.

"Do you want to stop staring at me and kiss me already?" Claire said, half irritated, half teasing, pushing Severus out of her mind before he could find out anything else.

In an angry flash, he ripped both their wands from underneath Claire's belt and shoved her bodily away before letting thin ropes wrap themselves around her, forcing her to kneel down. He strode to her and jabbed his wand at her throat.

"Where is Mette?" he snarled

Claire's mouth stood open. She looked up at him with utmost bewilderment. Giggling nervously, she asked, "What kind of game is this? Is this some roleplaying thing you're into?"

Severus clenched his teeth "Tell me were Mette is, now!"

"Is this real? Are you serious right now?" The smile disappeared, her voice rose. "You bastard! How dare you, after all I've done for you! And what do you think will happen now, huh? That Squib is practically already dead now you've done this!"

Severus tried to penetrate her mind again, but something flickered up in Claire's eyes, a sudden understanding. Before he could get far enough, Claire averted her gaze.

Looking at the ground in front of her, she chuckled and said "You'll never find her on your own, you idiot."

Severus breathed heavily, pondering his options. He had an idea that whoever Claire was working with could hear exactly what was going on through the eavesdropping patches. He let his wand sink. He could not let his anger and zeal run away with him, not this time. He'd do everything in his power to save the life that was at stake. Quietly, he said, "I'll stay with you afterwards. I just need to know that she's safe."

Claire scoffed, her head still bowed. "It's all about her, then?"

"If this is what it takes."

Claire looked up at him for a split second, grinning darkly. He had his wand ready, the spell foremost in his mind. But she was too quick. Before he'd even thought the word Legilimens, she looked down again. "Alright then, I'll take you to her. But there's a catch. I need to make sure that you'll really stay with me afterwards, even if she is free again."

"What's the catch?"

"We will modify her memory so she will be convinced that you're an awful, terrible person. She will want nothing to do with you anymore. That's the price for her freedom."

"Will she be healthy?"

Claire sighed. In a bored voice, she said, "Yes, nothing else will change. She'll be alive, healthy and happy – with someone else. This is my little reminder to you what happens when you refuse me."

"Fine. Let's go."

"Unbind me and give me the wands."

Severus hesitated. But as long as he didn't know where Mette was, he would have to play along. He waved his wand to release Claire, who snatched the two wands out of his hand.

"That's better, honey." Claire straightened her robes and fluffed up her hair. She made the cuffs reappear around Severus' wrists. This time, they forced his hands onto his back before they connected to each other.

Claire marched him through the dark back alleys of Hogsmeade. When they had reached the edge of the village, she commanded him to stop and said, "Try to Apparate along with a little more dignity this time, will you. If anyone sees us and you're puking or something, our perfect romance will be off to a bad start." She gave him a disapproving look while she took a step towards him, her hand reaching for his arm.

This was it. He'd used all his skill to hold on to his connection with his wand. The spell violently burst through him and into Claire's mind. She gasped.

Light from the stained-glass window of a pub was reflected on the cars parked along a street. It was the place he and Mette had gone to on New Year's Eve. The entrance to a narrow alley beside the pub came into focus.

Severus spun around on the spot. Two cracks echoed around the dark countryside in quick succession. Claire, released from his spell, shrieked and turned her head quickly from side to side. Severus was behind her, the shackles lay abandoned before her feet. He ripped the two wands from her belt and stunned her, then turned on the spot again.

He arrived on a sidewalk in a Muggle village. Looking around wildly, he discovered the pub and the entrance to the alley on the other side of the road. He took off across the street, but was arrested by a sharp pain in his calf. Something warm and sticky quickly drenched his trouser leg. He had no time to worry about that now. He crossed the street at a run, darting into the alley. Just as he had seen in Claire's mind, there was the huddled figure. He ran to it and kneeled down, gently turning it over.

"Surprise," the figure said in a glib voice.

"Kenneth?"

"I take it you were hoping to find someone else."

"Where is she?" The pain in his calf was draining his energy by the second.

"Oh, she's around. But she won't be for long, at least not in spirit."

"What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything. Unfortunately, she took a leaf out of Claire's book and made sure she always knew what you were up to." Kenneth indicated the side of his neck, the same spot Claire had tapped with her wand to play the recording of Mette. "She witnessed your interchange with our dear Claire and realized you would trade being exiled with a Squib for being famous with a Pureblood in a heartbeat. Poor Mette was so devastated that she came to the place where you had your first date and took a bunch of sleeping pills. She's peacefully departing as we speak."

Severus roared and grabbed Kenneth by the collar, pushing him against the wall. Adrenaline pulsed through Severus and momentarily blocked out the pain in his leg. It took no effort at all to penetrate Kenneth's mind. To Severus' surprise, the image that greeted him was crisp and clear, like a photograph. There were no words, no sounds, no other images in Kenneth's head. Just a still picture of Mette, lying on a stone floor, her eyes closed, her lips blue.

"WHERE IS SHE?" Severus yelled.

Kenneth chuckled quietly. "Wouldn't you like to know. Thanks for that Occlumency potion recipe, it was really easy to make. And it works so well, too! Good job, Mr. Potions Master! Although you might want to work on the effect duration. I take it that it stopped working for poor Claire?"

With a slash of his wand, Severus stunned Kenneth, whose head snapped backwards and crashed into the wall with a sickening crunch.

Severus paced up and down the alley. His head was swimming. The pain in his calf came back, pulsating and worse than before. He had to focus. He needed to find Mette. What had he seen? Just a grey wall, made out of large, roughly hewn and unevenly sized stones not unlike the ones the houses in this street were built out of.

She's here!

He cast Homenum Revelio into every direction, looking at every shape that revealed itself, trying to judge whether it could be Mette. Lying down, alone... Nothing here. He ran a few steps, which made his heart beat impossibly fast to pump what blood he had left through his body. He couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs, but he didn't stop to catch his breath. Instead, he cast the spell again. Nothing. There was a larger building on the other side of the road, also built from the uneven stones. He quickly crossed over and cast the spell again. This time, there was something there. Underground, only a few paces from where he stood, the spell had outlined a small heap of human.

He disintegrated the front door and ran down a staircase of hollowed-out stone steps. A few steps down, he slipped and landed painfully on his back. Cursing, he pulled himself up and cast the spell again. The shining outline of Mette blurred before his eyes. He pushed on, forcing open another door, rounding a corner and entering a cavernous cellar. He produced a few light balls that floated to the ceiling. There, at the far end, lay a dark shape.

He flew to her, trying to ignore the piercing pain in every step. He fell to his knees at her side. From the satchel on his belt, he fumbled a bezoar and forced it into her mouth, pushing it back into her throat as far as he could. Her skin felt cold. "Come on," he groaned, massaging her throat to try and force the bezoar deeper. Her head lolled back. The arteries beside her throat were still. No pulse.

"No, no, no," he whispered. He cast every healing spell that he could think of, but to no avail. He took her face into both his hands, pressing his palms to her cheeks. No reaction.

"Come ON!" In his frenzy, he laid her down and started pushing her chest and breathing into her mouth as he had seen on the poster in Xanimus' office. But if magic could not help her, nothing could.

"No!" he screamed. He carefully scooped up Mette's head and put it on his lap. He had wasted all his time with Claire. All Mette's time. He stroked her hair, sobbing, and willed her to come back. He knew that it was pointless.

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