"And you're sure she's in there? Perhaps she slipped off to Hogsmeade for a bite to eat."
"She's in there," the Ministry official said. "Callum saw her go in a couple hours ago. She hasn't come out."
"You don't have the password?"
"There's a password?"
Severus smirked, following him up the stairs to the Headmistress's office. According to what he'd been told, she hadn't responded to persistent knocking, though that didn't necessarily mean anything. Perhaps she'd stayed quiet by choice, hoping that these Ministry goons would bugger off.
The gargoyles had been replaced with cats, both of whom watched him through slanted eyes as he approached. He mouthed the password, feeling smug as they moved aside.
"Headmistress?"
He frowned, the eerie silence sending prickles up his spine as he stepped into the office. She wasn't at the desk, nor was there any sign of her near the window where she often looked out over the grounds. The bookcase… no, she wasn't over there either, though several books lay open on the ground.
"Minerva?"
Suddenly, he saw her, dropping to his knees beside the small, crumpled form. She'd never looked more frail, her skin as white as fresh parchment as he felt for a pulse.
"Is she alive?"
He nodded, closing his eyes in relief.
"What's happened to her?"
"If you'll give me a bloody minute…"
She'd been cursed. That much was clear, though the exact variation was harder to identify. Whatever it was, it had rendered her unconscious, keeping her that way despite his attempts to revive her.
"Well?"
"Dark magic," he said, "If left untreated, the victim will never wake up."
"Right. So how do we treat it?"
He took out his wand, touching it to Minerva's forehead as he murmured a countercurse. It wasn't powerful enough to bring her back, but at the very least, it would slow her descent into oblivion.
"You don't have the means to treat it," he said acidly. "I don't either, for that matter. If I could go downstairs and brew…"
He couldn't. That was the problem. His ingredients had been tampered with too many times to be trusted, particularly in a life or death situation. Spinner's End? No, that would take too long, even if he did manage to get it right on the first try.
"Arrange a transport to St. Mungo's. Tell them to meet us at the gates."
To his credit, the official followed Severus's instructions without complaint. Less than 10 minutes later, they arrived at the designated location, delivering Minerva's stretcher to the St. Mungo's attendant.
"Do you think she'll live?"
"Yes," he said, feeling somewhat better as they headed back up to the school. Minerva's condition had already improved thanks to the countercurse… with proper treatment, she'd almost certainly make a full recovery.
Of course, killing her hadn't been the point. The goal was to take her out of commission, just like the professors who'd been poisoned. One by one, the assailant was picking them off, ensuring they wouldn't interfere.
Interfere with what? That was the real question.
"How many are left?" he said abruptly.
"Nine, if I'm not mistaken. Six of us, three of you."
Several Ministry officials had also been attacked, though their injuries were relatively minor. It was as if the assailant didn't take them as seriously, merely brushing them aside when they became too much of a nuisance.
"Summon them all. We'll meet in the Room of Requirement."
"Yes, sir."
Severus hadn't planned on taking charge, though it seemed he had little choice in the matter. He couldn't imagine anyone more ill-equipped for leadership than Hagrid, and Pomona… well, he was quite certain she'd want the job even less than he did.
"No one is to leave this room alone," he said. "No exceptions. We'll split off into groups of three, which should minimize these stealth attacks. I should also remind you…
To his relief, no one objected to his instructions. They all nodded, obviously glad that someone else had taken control.
That was hardly surprising, especially when it came to the Ministry officials. Most were quite young, replacements for those who'd been lost in the war. They took their jobs seriously, though their lack of experience often proved to be a hindrance.
"What about tonight?"
"What about it?" he said.
"Would you like us to go back out, or…"
He shook his head. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm exhausted. We'll resume our patrols at 7 AM."
"Yes, sir."
He retreated to his room, shedding his robes before he pulled the scroll from his pocket. It had arrived earlier that evening, though of course, he hadn't had a chance to read it until now.
Dear Severus,
What the bloody hell was that? You drop a bunch of hints, terrifying ones, I might add, then you sign off without telling me what's going on? Do you have any idea how worried I've been, sitting here imagining the absolute worst?
The letter continued that way for a few more sentences, though she must've taken a break. The next paragraph was completely different, her handwriting so sloppy he could barely read it.
Severus, Minerva's been attacked! You've got to get up to her office if you haven't already, I just saw Ashwood…
So it was Ashwood? That wasn't surprising, but how could she have seen him? How did she even know about the attack, considering that it had only happened a few hours ago?
No. Not a few hours ago. She'd found out right when it happened, attempting to warn him long before he'd had any clue. How?
Severus shook his head, reaching for quill and parchment.
Dear Hermione,
You're not the only one who lacks crucial information. Care to explain how you saw what happened to Minerva when you're supposed to be at the Burrow?
He paused, grimacing as he rubbed his forearm. For some reason, the burning always intensified as the night deepened, a sensation that couldn't be alleviated with potions or ointments.
That aside, I'm sure you'll be relieved to know that she's responding well to treatment. She's currently at St. Mungo's where she's expected to make a full recovery.
As for me…
He could always make up some excuse for his last letter, insisting that he was fine. He couldn't bring himself to do it, however, reminding himself that there were no guarantees. If anything should happen…
No. Better to tell the truth while he still had the chance.
Have I ever explained the nature of the Dark Mark? It provided a direct connection between the Dark Lord and his followers, as I'm sure you know, but it also served other purposes. It allowed Death Eaters to communicate among themselves, send signals, even summon one another. It could also be used as a means of torture.
I tell you this because I don't want you to assume the worst. While I'll admit that my Mark has become more visible as of late, this is by no means an indication that the Dark Lord has returned.
For reasons I've just explained, I believe this can be traced back to one of his followers. Ashwood, maybe? That seems like the most likely explanation, even more so considering what just happened to Minerva.
Either way, I encourage you not to worry. I have every intention…
Severus set his quill down, hissing as the pain spiked. For the first time, he recognized it as a summons, cursing under his breath as his fingers hovered over the Mark. It would be so easy to press it, relieving himself of the agony that came from not responding. Just one little touch…
"No," he said, gritting his teeth as he jerked his hand away.
Whoever was doing this, one thing was clear. It was a trap. Why summon him to their location unless they knew they had an advantage?
After a few minutes, the pain leveled off, still unpleasant but bearable. He finished the letter, setting it aside before retrieving a vial from his pocket. Dreamless Sleep…
He lay awake for an hour, two hours, praying for the potion to kick in. Finally, he drifted off into a fitful slumber, unaware of the tears that streamed down his cheeks as the Mark continued to burn.
"What happened to Professor McGonagall? She's not…"
Hermione shook her head, doing her best to stay calm as she read Severus's letter. "They sent her to St. Mungo's. Professor Snape says she'll be fine."
"Poor Minerva," Molly said, setting a platter of sausages on the table. "Are they allowing visitors?"
"The letter doesn't say."
"Well then, I suppose there's only one way to find out."
Molly took off her apron, smoothing her hair as she left the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later, dressed in a traveling cloak and carrying her purse.
"Plenty of eggs on the stove if you're still hungry. I should be back in time for lunch."
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "Give Professor McGonagall our love."
"Sweet boy. Of course I will."
To Ron's credit, he didn't mock Harry, even when his mother had gone. He'd been a bit less obnoxious lately, not making as many of those stupid comments Hermione found so irritating.
"Look," Harry said, spreading his map out over the table. "He's back in the Forbidden Forest."
"Weird," Ron said. "What do you think he's up to?"
"I don't know, but there's werewolves nearby. Maybe they'll eat him."
"Maybe…" Hermione said. "Unless they're on the same side."
They watched Ashwood's dot for a while, though it stayed perfectly still. Hermione wondered if he was sleeping, assuming himself to be safe in such a secluded area. If so, they were missing out on the perfect opportunity. It would be easy, almost mindlessly so, to sneak up and catch him unawares.
"Maybe we should send a Patronus," Ginny suggested.
"That's a good idea, but how are we supposed to describe the location? The Forbidden Forest is huge!"
"What if one of us sent our map?" Ron said. "We could even make another copy."
"I wish it was that easy. Unfortunately, the maps only work for us."
"But the Marauder's Map…"
"Yeah," she said tersely. "I couldn't figure out how they did that part. I could only make it work by binding it directly to the casters."
"In some ways, that's better. At least we don't have to worry about it getting into the wrong hands."
She nodded at Harry, returning her attention to Severus's letter. Something about… why would he bring up the Dark Mark of all things?
"There are still ways we can help," Ginny said. "Maybe we could… Hermione? What's wrong?"
"Bloody hell, she looks like she's about to faint."
"She's not going to faint, Ron. Just… get her some water or something."
Hermione closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as Ron handed her a glass. She nearly dropped it, her hand shaking so badly she left spatters all over the table.
"Want me to read it?" Harry said. "Whatever it is, I'm sure we can…"
"No!" she said hastily. "No, I… just give me a minute, okay?"
The Dark Mark. The bloody Dark Mark. She'd seen Severus's bare arms, well aware that it had been practically invisible since the end of the war. If it was back…
I tell you this because I don't want you to assume the worst.
His attempts to reassure her had the opposite effect. She could sense his pain, his uncertainty, keenly aware that there was something he wasn't telling her.
It allowed Death Eaters to communicate among themselves, send signals, even summon one another. It could also be used as a means of torture.
Summoning? Torture?
"Quill and parchment," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Now."
Ron grabbed a piece of parchment as Harry handed her an inkpot. They didn't even ask questions, waiting patiently as she bent her head over the table.
Severus,
I knew it was a mistake to come home. I should've never agreed to it, should've refused to get on that train no matter what you or Minerva said. Now I don't know what to do, but I have to do something. Attacks on all the professors, the bloody Dark Mark…
"Useless," she grumbled, balling up the parchment and tossing it aside. She returned her attention to his letter, biting her lip as she read the final lines.
I love you. Perhaps I've said that already, but it bears repeating. If the worst should happen…
"Hermione," Harry said quietly. "Tell us what's going on."
"The Dark Mark… the Dark Mark on his arm…"
"What about it?"
"It's back."
Harry turned pale. "What… what do you mean? Are you saying that Voldemort…"
She shook her head. "Not necessarily. According to Professor Snape, Death Eaters were able to use it among themselves. Signals and summons, that sort of thing."
"Were," he said quietly.
"What?"
"It didn't work the last time Voldemort was gone… or at least, I don't think it did. I can't be sure, but that memory I saw…"
"What memory?" Ginny said.
"It was during fourth year. Snape was showing Karkoroff his Mark, like it was a big deal that it had shown back up. I don't think he would've done that if…"
"If they could've used it anytime they wanted?" Ron said.
Harry nodded. "Snape knew there could only be one reason, and of course, he was right. That was just a couple months before…"
"No," Hermione whispered. "Please, no."
"I just don't understand… Dumbledore was so sure…"
"What if…" Ron hesitated, swallowing hard. "What if he was wrong?"
"Voldemort died! He really died this time, we all saw…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head in bewilderment. "Everything we went through, everything we did… that can't have been for nothing."
"Maybe it wasn't," Ginny said.
"What do you mean?"
"Even if he did have another Horcrux, there's only so much he can do until someone brings him back. If we stop that from happening…"
"How?" Ron said.
"Bone of the father," Hermione said slowly. "Flesh from a servant, and…"
"Blood from an enemy," Harry finished for her.
"The servant would be Ashwood, of course."
"What about the enemy?" Ginny said.
"I'm not sure, but…"
Hermione trailed off, her eyes widening as the pieces fell into place. The attacks on Minerva, the other professors… there was a reason Severus had been left unscathed. If they really wanted to hurt him, make him suffer as much as humanly possible…
That was what they'd been doing all along, wasn't it? They'd targeted all his weaknesses, taunting him with past traumas, even using Hermione herself as a means to hurt him. That botched potion… well, it hadn't worked out the way theyd expected, but she finally understood why they'd done it. They'd thought she would choose Ron, marry him and have his baby, a cruel echo of James and Lily Potter.
But it didn't end there, did it? Severus's worst pain, the most gutwrenching thing he'd ever been through…
"He's the enemy."
"What?" Ginny said.
"Blood from an enemy. They want Professor Snape."
Ron frowned. "How do you know?"
How? Because it was the most sadistic thing she could imagine. Using Severus's own blood to bring back the one who would murder her… what better way to repeat what he'd gone through with Lily, leaving him with a lifetime of bitterness and regret?
"I just know," she said quietly.
She'd realized something else, too. Staying away from Hogwarts wouldn't keep her safe. Most of Severus's allies had already been eliminated… it was only a matter of time before they got what they wanted from him. When that happened? They'd turn their attention to her no matter where she happened to be.
"You're right," she told Ginny. "We have to stop it before it's too late."
Harry nodded. "Hogwarts?"
"I don't expect any of you to come…"
"Don't be stupid," Ron said. "Let's go."