With the aid of the invisibility cloak, Sev was able to go to witness Malachite's confrontation with Vitae first-hand. A much better proposition than hearing about it after the fact, for even if his allies shared everything with him, they wouldn't necessarily look for or notice the same things he did. Dumbledore was wise, but guided by compassion that was too often misplaced. And Malachite was entirely too confident of his superiority over his enemy.
Better, then, that he see for himself. However, Sev didn't see any particular need to inform his allies that he would be accompanying them to observe.
Malachite met Vitae out by the Forbidden Forest. It was the day before the students would be returning, the latest they had dared to leave it.
Vitae strode out to meet her enemy with a cold smile. "So. Carnus. You wanted to speak with me." There was a twist of disgust to her expression when she met him that she could never quite hide, and now she thought they were alone, she wasn't trying.
"I did." Malachite, by contrast, was a block of ice.
She sneered. "I hope you're not plotting some treachery. I know what you are."
Malachite laughed at that; a rich, earthy sound, ringing with genuine amusement. "Treachery, I? I think you forget yourself." He smirked. "Of course, if I were you I would certainly want to."
She looked resolutely unimpressed. "If there's a point to this exercise, I suggest you make it."
"Very well." He straightened abruptly to his full height, and suddenly the look of the jovial schoolteacher gave way to the inherent nobility of the Naga people he came from. "You say you know what I am, but I recognise you for what you are, Ellida Vitae; a liar, a murderess and a traitor."
Vitae laughed, then, a mocking snort. "You're delusional."
"You're a Death Eater."
He spoke quietly, almost casually. To her credit, she didn't even flinch or look surprised. "You're more than deluded if you think anyone will listen to your jealous accusations," she told him.
"Jealous?" He smiled. "Of what?" He looked her up and down scornfully. "I don't see an awful lot to be jealous of. You're second rate, Vitae. A second rate loser who could never accept I was better than you were. No wonder you went running to your precious Lord Voldemort. Of course you'd embrace a value system that prizes meaningless distinctions over merit."
"You know nothing, Malachite," she spat. "You never did."
"Of course you'd hate those you call mudbloods," he continued relentlessly. "The blood of generations of wizards runs in your veins - I suppose it only makes it that much more embarrassing that you're a failure."
"My blood runs hot, not cold like yours," Vitae snarled. "And you have a strange definition of failure, snake."
"Failures are people who lose, my dear Ellida," he told her lightly. "And that, I think you'll find, is definitely you." He laughed again. "Ironic, isn't it? I mean, look at us. You, the brave, noble Gryffindor, the toast of the school. Me, the arrogant Slytherin; sly, secretive, not even human. And which of us went to the bad?" He chuckled.
"Arrogant you certainly are," she said, straightening up. "You truly think you can say these things and expect to be believed? Or do you still have some woefully ineffectual trick up your sleeve?"
"Not up my sleeve, but up yours," Malachite informed her. He smirked. "I know more about your little group than you think. I know that when you sold your loyalties to Voldemort, he branded you with his mark to make sure you never sold them back again."
Vitae made a single sharp movement, and suddenly her wand was in her hand. "And you think that I'll just sit idly by and let you do as you wish?"
"You can't threaten me, Ellida," he remarked calmly. "Or do you forget the name of my speciality?" He shook his sleeve, and suddenly he was holding his own wand.
Vitae smirked triumphantly. "Some arts are too dark for you to have any defence against them." She raised her wand, ready to cast a spell... and, suddenly, a hand came out of nowhere to grasp her outstretched arm.
"I don't think that will be necessary, Ellida," said Professor Dumbledore quietly. "Do you?"
Even Snape, who had been watching from a distance under the cloak, had not seen him approach.
Vitae yanked her arm away from him and scowled. "Headmaster, you surely don't believe this... creature's wild accusations?"
"It's a peculiarity of mine," said the headmaster calmly. "I try to make a habit of believing those who tell the truth."
She snarled at the pair of them, obviously realising the time for smooth talking was well past. "You're fools, both of you. You're no match for the magic Lord Voldemort has taught me."
Dumbledore sighed, and shook his head sadly. "Ah, Ellida. If you truly believe what he's taught you is worth anything, then I fear you never understood magic at all."
Vitae pointed her wand at him. "Your feeble magic is nothing but party tricks, old man! Where's the power?" She sneered at him. "Here you stand, and you don't even have your wand!"
"Perhaps I don't need one." So calmly did he speak, and such was the strength of Dumbledore's reputation in the wizarding community, that Vitae trembled on the edge of casting a spell, not quite daring to go through with it. The Hogwarts headmaster continued to smile at her faintly until her wand-tip lowered towards the ground.
"You've gone a long way down some dark paths, Ellida," he said soberly. "But there is still a way back, should you choose to take it. Turn aside from your dark masters, and I believe I will be able to help you."
Malachite gave a disbelieving snort. Under the cloak, Sev rolled his eyes. Dumbledore had to know full well that his offer would be rejected, but he made it anyway.
Vitae looked at him incredulously, and then spat on the ground. "Did I call you an old man? You're not even that, you're a snivelling child, too weak to fight back against those who seek to destroy you." She smirked evilly. "And that is why we are sure to triumph."
She gestured with her wand and snapped out a word of command, and suddenly her broomstick was in her hand. Malachite lunged towards her, but before he could move, she was in the air and away.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher pointed his wand and started to mutter, but Dumbledore stayed his arm. "Let her go."
"She'll run straight back to Voldemort," Malachite warned him, as Vitae disappeared out of view over the trees. No doubt she would Apparate away as soon as she was safely out of the Hogwarts shield.
"She'll tell them nothing they couldn't find out for themselves." He looked up at the stars. "And I fear her masters' displeasure will not go well for her." He showed neither triumph nor grim satisfaction at the prospect, only weary sorrow.
"Perhaps." Malachite looked grave. "But I hope you were right, Albus. Your compassion does you credit, but it's also your biggest weakness."
The headmaster regarded him with a slight smile. "Compassion is a strength, never a weakness, Carnus," he corrected gently.
"Even if it kills you?"
"Especially then, my friend. Especially then."
The two men stood together a moment longer, then turned and began making their way back to the building. Unseen and unnoticed, Snape watched them go.
Sev re-wrapped the invisibility cloak and had one of the school owls deliver it to Lily's dorm where it would await her arrival. No doubt there would be more subterfuge to come, but he doubted his visibility would play into it one way or the other, and he wanted no ties linking him to Lily or the cloak's other user, James.
Lily tried to catch his eye several times during the first days of term, no doubt with questions to ask him, but the first time they ended up in a room together was in a lesson - funnily enough, Charms. The school liked to rotate which groups were put together in the different lessons, no doubt to encourage inter-house friendships - a pretty unlikely goal in the case of Gryffindor-Slytherin, but that didn't stop the powers that be from trying.
For the past couple of months, mixed Charms lessons had meant the usual warfare - especially under Professor Vitae's lax eye. She had been happy to let the battles go on unchecked, and no doubt only Snape and Malfoy realised that it wasn't in fact for the benefit of the Gryffindors.
On this occasion, however, it presented Snape with a handy opportunity to compare and contrast reactions to Professor Vitae's disappearance. Dumbledore had chosen not to announce her abrupt departure in a special assembly, perhaps to give Malfoy as little warning as possible of the loss of his ally.
The first rumblings of surprise didn't start until several minutes into the lesson, when it was realised that the usually scrupulously prompt Vitae was nowhere to be seen.
"Maybe the old cow's done us all a favour and dropped dead," grinned Nick Avery. The rumblings on the Gryffindor were not so vicious, but no less optimistic in tone - the absence of even the most beloved teacher was something to be cheered. The more disruption, the less work that had to be done.
James and Sirius began loudly expounding on that mythical school 'rule' that said you could leave if the teachers were ten minutes late, trying to incite the rest of the class to join them in doing a runner. Seated beside them, Lily shot Snape a suspicious look across the room. He returned her gaze with a studiously blank expression.
The buzz of conversation turned to groans as the door creaked open, but everybody craned around in surprise when they saw it wasn't Vitae who came through it.
The smallest wizard any of them had ever seen, in just about the biggest, floppiest hat, shuffled through the door with a swaying pile of books. He made his way precariously over to the desk, and instead of opening any of them, dumped them on the chair and climbed up to sit on them.
Everybody gaped at him. He smiled in return, and tipped his hat. "Good morning, class. I'm Professor Flitwick, and I'll be taking you for Charms for the rest of this year."
The buzz of conversation resumed, twice as speculative as before. James Potter's hand was the first to shoot up.
"But, professor, what happened to Professor Vitae?"
Flitwick pushed back his hat as it threatened to slip down over his face. "Professor Vitae has had to leave Hogwarts suddenly for personal reasons."
The Slytherins burst into noisy cheers, whilst the Gryffindors looked almost comically surprised. Sev glanced at Malfoy, but he was simply staring at Flitwick, his face set in stone and his cold gaze unwavering.
"Is she sick?" shouted Sirius over the general hubbub.
"Did she get a better job?" asked Helen Beck at the same time.
"I bet something's happened to her," murmured somebody else quietly.
Flitwick clapped his hands for silence, nearly dislodging himself from his high perch in the process. "As I said, Professor Vitae has had to leave for personal reasons. I don't know any more than that, so please don't ask me. Now-"
"But who'll be head of House Gryffindor?" interrupted James, frowning.
"Nobody! Nobody wants you!" shouted Nick, and the Slytherins broke up laughing again, all except Sev and Malfoy.
Flitwick gave them a stern look, but didn't say anything. "Professor McGonagall will be taking over that side of Professor Vitae's duties," he told James.
"McGonagall?" Sirius let out a huge groan and sank down under his desk.
The rest of the Gryffindors winced in sympathy, and the Slytherins smirked. Unlike Vitae or Malachite, their Transfiguration teacher played no favourites - at all. No matter how winningly you smiled or how well-behaved you were ninety-nine percent of the time, if you broke the rules in front of McGonagall, you paid.
Flitwick regarded them all sternly. "Right now, settle down, that's enough of that. You're an advanced-level class, and I expect you all to know something. If you'd like to take out your copies of The Standard Book of Spells..."
In class, Malfoy kept up his impassive mask, but when they got back to the dorms, his followers were taken aback by the depth of his unleashed fury.
"I don't understand, Lucius-" Colin began.
Malfoy paced up and down the room in tightly-controlled rage. "Of course you don't, Crabbe, you're a moron. But I've no doubt the rest of you are surprised as well, because none of you are smart enough to see what's six inches in front of your space. You all knew we had an ally on the teaching staff."
The matching expressions of disbelief were really quite funny. "But- I mean, she-" Nick tried to begin.
"She was very well disguised," Malfoy said sharply. "They didn't just stumble across her by accident, somebody was looking for spies, somebody ferreted her out."
"Professor Dumbledore?" asked Colin tentatively. Malfoy snarled at him.
"Dumbledore? He's half senile, and much too in love with his own image to believe anyone could act against him. No, this is the work of a traitor... worse, a traitor within our very own house."
"Who?" The other boys leaned in eagerly.
Sev wondered in an almost detached way if Malfoy would cite his own name. He didn't believe the other boy had any reason to suspect him, but he was no slouch when it came to sniffing out ways to take down potential rivals...
But no, Malfoy had other game in his sights. "Malachite," he said, disgust dripping from his voice. "He's had it in for her from the start, and he's always holding us back, talking about the 'image' of House Slytherin. As if we should care what shortsighted mudbloods and Muggle-lovers think of us!"
"What do we do now, Lucius?" asked Colin, a little nervously. It was hard to say if he was afraid of the prospect of them being found out too, or simply of Malfoy himself.
Malfoy's rage became a cold, hard grin. "Oh... I'm sure we'll think of something."