Alternative title: Curse of Omniscience

"Constant light and constant darkness, you are split into two, but thy reflections never lie, brightness that shines upon, and the darkness that surrounds. Insidiously, gracefully."
-Excerpt from Cantus Argenteum-

Recommended music: String Quartet No.3 by Elizabeth Maconchy


It is peculiar to have no sounds of protest coming from the Potions Master during his extended stay in the infirmary or, to quote the exact thoughts of Poppy Pomfrey, "Is he still in pain? Did the healing not work as much as intended? Should I call for Minerva?"

There is always more to the eye of relationships between Slytherins - They are somewhat unconventional but not as complicated as people make out, per se. From what the matron had heard from the other faculty members, there was a commotion during the Malfoys' visit. Not that Poppy can understand why Severus puts his trust in those horrid people. Still, she vaguely recalls the older Malfoy's visit whenever a black-haired child got into "incidents".

Poppy turns her eyes onto the man, whose quill is scratching against the scroll of parchment, spidery handwriting filling the page in neat lines like weaving yarns, occasionally stopping to look detachedly at the view beyond the window, and goes back to compose his letter. He is no heartless man, she knows well, merely hardened to the point of no return. Considering how his "close friends" are from the other side, the break between them must have affected him harder than expected.

Albus… The Nurse sigh as the headmaster comes to mind. The past week has been difficult for her restless mind; his reaction and ill-treatment towards Severus were evident, so much to the point of prolonging the suffering of whom he "cared for like a son". The healer is not as professional and objective when it comes to patients at times, having to have apprenticed and worked as a healer in the emergency care sector for over a decade before coming to Hogwarts. She has seen all kinds of wounds and patients of less-than-desirable affiliations. On several occasions, she was inclined to let the person in bed bleed out. Then, of course, the oath sworn reminded her of her duty.

Poppy gathers the necessities that Lord prince suggested, taking long strides towards the occupied bed, she sets down the steel tray alongside inflammation salves and bandages - the usual. Severus doesn't utter a word, habitually removing the band around the wrists that secures the metal tip at the end of the drip and lays his blackened hand on the overbed table. His right hand glides across the parchment without pause, eyes never leaving the word-filled page.

Poppy applies pressure on the charcoal skin and gently slides the trocar out after disconnecting the tubes from the drip, a cotton ball pressed onto the wound, even though the blood is barely visible in the sea of black. Trying to distract herself from recalling the horrible scene she rushed upon couple of days ago. She subtly attempts to peak at the lengthy letter through her grey curls.

"Poppy." The nurse suppresses a jump at the name. Severus's spy senses are no less diminished after a near-death experience.

The man takes his time to sign his initials, stabbing a harsh dot in the middle, before folding it and setting the blank side up. He takes a deep breath and turns his head around to face her, resembling a night owl spotting a mouse running across its line of sight, one eyebrow raised in an iconic way.

"Sorry." Poppy grimaces apologetically while draining the rest of the fluids in the IV bag with a flick of her wand, "For a stubborn man like yourself, you have been awfully silent."

"Past experiences have taught me you prefer tame patients who suffer your incessant fussing like a silent lamb." At the nurse's glare, he lies back down, unbuttoning his hospital gown and reveals the thick square bandage at the centre of the black mass, freckles of light blue numbing agent seeping through the seams.

Poppy carefully peels the wet material off with a magically stabled pair of tweezers, then dabs the excess balm with a warm cloth, lightly probing in a ring pattern around the sealed wound.

"Does it still hurt? And don't even lie about a sting."

"No." Severus replies blankly, "No, nothing."

She huffs, flinging her hands dry at the basin, and applies a new layer of balm across the affected area, laying a thin gauze above the herbal medicine. Another swish of her wand, a short segment of parchment appears from the wooden tip. Poppy scans across the words meticulously before sighing.

"Nothing seems to be amiss. Have you been doing magic? Occlumency or not."

"I was barely awake for an entire week Madame, let alone do magic." Severus snaps, before frowning, "And my wand..."

The matron is somewhat unnerved by the headmaster's decision to "safeguard" Severus's wand. It is common knowledge that once the core of a wizard is inextricably linked with the wand core, the resonance between can aid the wielder both physically and mentally, hence why most healers would allow patients to keep their wands or put them close, except the ones designated in the hospital holding rooms and high-risk sectors.

"Try the levitation charm," Poppy says softly as she transfigures a white feather from the used bandage before I over her wand, "You're still recovering from a severe depletion, so the magical flow might still be weak. Best not to cast anything too arduous for your core."

The man oddly doesn't rebuke her; instead, he takes her wand with both hands, spider-like fingers curling around the wood like the tendrils of vines, inspecting the minimalistic carving and polished wood grains like he would when she gifted him a handcrafted crystal vial over Christmas. He hesitates to touch the radiating warmth with his cursed arm, opts to rest it on his thigh, and gives the nurse an uncertain look.

"Go ahead." Poppy nods encouragingly, it's rare to see the stoic professor look unsure, yet there's some endearing quality to it, being the youngest in the faculty and having been taught by the rest. She only prays that Severus won't react too severely to the diminished magic power, as the man prides on his control and talents.

After a pause, the younger man switches back to his typical collected demeanour. He points at the feather, intoning, "Wingardium Leviosa."

She's initially perturbed at the stationary target, but all her concerns are blasted away when the feather shoots up with such force it creates a whipping sound. The feather does not fall off, though there is a burnt spot on the stone ceiling.

Their eyes are comically wide when a not-so-small chipped piece of stone drops in front of the bed. A pregnant silence hangs till they exchange a look.

"I thought you said my..."

"Well." Poppy replies dumbfoundedly when she finds her jaw again, "I thought so too." She removes her wand from the stiff hand, "Maybe try Reparo wandlessly?"

Severus scowls briefly before pointing his finger at the burnt spot, "Reparo!"

The fallen stone and dust float back up and merge with the ceiling, as the spell would do - except when dust clouds at the corners of the infirmary rush upwards, alongside the old cracks since who knows when on the floor flattening themselves, and the undamaged blue-stained bandage floats down to the table.

"Severe depletion? Poppy?" The man questions, stunned by his burst of power. He'd admit that he wasn't expecting much after the damage done to his body by the whole ordeal weeks ago, and frankly, he still gets fatigued quickly. The rush of magic he experienced just now doesn't feel foreign, however. It was like a stream flowing smoothly after removing a branch on top. Like casting fiendfyre, allowing jets of flames to course through your body and shooting it out of a wand, but without the sensation of fire slowly burning within.

The matron crosses her arms, fingers tapping her elbows, "Maybe we should call Filius. Or Alb- Minerva. Or you should include that in your letter. I assume you are writing to Lord Prince?"

Severus sends a withering glare at the matron, not that it has ever affected the nurse, but his reaction puzzled her. "It is rather rude to make assumptions of someone's privacy, madame. He probably already knows about it."

Now Poppy is getting bewildered, "He was the one who warned me about depletion, and what's with the prickly mood? Aren't you two... acquaintances?"

The man stills, eyebrows knit together, "Why would he..." he mutters, and turns back to the nurse, "Regardless of our relationship, Poppy, do not try to pry more of it. The less you know, the better."

That sends a shiver down her spine, but she knows the man must have his reasons and nods firmly.

"As for Filius, I shall discuss it with him on my way back."

"Oh?" Poppy smirks, "Who says I'm letting you off?"

"There is currently a stack of documents that are eager to be finished and arranged, which I could have done from the start of the holidays if it weren't for this." The professor throws his hands up in frustration.

"Obstinate child." Poppy shakes her head, exasperated, "Would it have killed you to rest for a day? Take a break, for Merlin's sake. You're the only faculty member who never took a day off aside from three days during Yule." She summons the thoroughly cleaned set of robes of the potions master and hands it to the man. Magically arranging the group of medicine and bandages on the tray, she floats it onto the nightstand.

"YES." Severus hisses, snatching the outer robe and wrapping it around himself, "It would be unwise of me to be unproductive while the others are... there's no use of me just to lie around, especially nowI can no longer attend to my other duties. "

Poppy bites her lip at his words. She knows the dour man won't appreciate any rebuttals despite being wrong about his worth. She can't help but feel sorry for his predicament. The self-loathe radiating from the man is choking them both and destroying himself.

"Well, just remember that- "

"Nothing that strains my magic, don't use it if necessary, change the salve every morning, no dreamless sleep, no alcohol, no cold foods." he peers at the silver tray and sneers, "Oh, and take naps like an infant if I must."

"That. You must. And come to me if the pain starts again, don't just hole up in the dungeons and try to fix it yourself." she points a finger at the man.

Severus waves his hand without turning back and stalks out of the infirmary, closing the door with a click.

Poppy's gaze stays at the closed door long after the man's departure until she breaks out of her whirring thoughts and slumps down onto the wooden chair next to the now-empty bed. She folds the blankets into a neat stack with a wave of her hand and takes the supplies back to her office.

Looking at the charmed calendar. It is Friday, and she has already brewed most of the potions needed for the upcoming year. After all the things that happened, she could really use a drink. Brushing the non-existent from her uniform, she grabs a handful of floo powder and shouted the location at the green-lit hearth.

"Minnie? Do you still have that Scotch?"


"Hermione, who got killed by the last Erlking attack again? Pawn to C4."

"Wasn't it... Aruno Smith or something? Queen to A4."

"Honestly, it's Bruno Schmidt, and he didn't die. He was the one who killed the Erlking with a cauldron. Harry focus on your essay already!"

The trio and most of the Weasleys are scattered across the Gryffindor common room; the twins are at the coffee table discussing their new inventions animatedly; Ginny is sitting next to Ron reading a novel she got recently, occasionally chiming into their conversation. And since Hermione has been staying with "the Order", her parents allowed her to remain in Hogwarts but made her promise to at least go home and have dinner with them once before the new term.

Sirius and Remus bid them farewell two days ago, needing to return to Grimmauld place— Sirius's house since he is still a wanted criminal; the fidelius charm will keep the location safe. Remus went with him to keep his friend company, which was for the best since there were still loads for them to catch up.

"I don't want to leave Padfoot alone in that house. After so many years of imprisonment and dementors, I won't abandon him again." Remus gently brushes the black fur on the back of Sirius's animagus form, smiling at the boy, "maybe you'll get to see what it's like this Christmas if the order is going to celebrate over there."

They left through the floo in Dumbledore's office, not before both gave him a crushing hug and words of encouragement. A pleasant warmth swells in his heart just thinking about it now.

The trio had a long talk regarding keeping secrets, and hearing each other's perspectives. Harry is still slightly frustrated over them not writing to him; both Ron and Hermione promised to check on him over future summers regardless of circumstances, with the bookish girl proclaiming she will research better security spells so no one can track Harry down with the letters. Ultimately, all is forgiven, not that the boy can stay angry at them anyways.

Despite Mrs Weasley's multiple warnings, who has been stirring her now cold tea for an hour, the curious case that is the House of Prince consumed the three teenagers' thoughts. "Have you found anything yet?" Harry whispers at her, who is reading the book on old wizarding family history, glamoured as a year five charms tome. After much persuasion, McGonagall allows the girl into the library with the condition of "one book only, Miss Granger. You know how Madame Pince can be if she knows someone moved her books without her hawking around."

"There are only some pages about the three organisations, medical advancements, and more on the exile, some speculations, but nothing on the past two generations, nor the Lord of Prince." Hermione ruffles her bushy hair, "Is there a reason your mum is so against us knowing about it?"

Ron peeks at Mrs Weasly discreetly, "I don't know either. Dad said he doesn't know enough other than it makes her upset. Maybe Bill or Charlie would know?" he shrugs.

"Actually," Ginny leans forward in her chair, face still buried in the book and murmurs "Mum mentioned our uncles at the infirmary, something about they would still be alive if it weren't for the other woman."

"Blimey Gin, how did you remember that?"

"She was shouting Ronald, pretty hard to forget."

"Does that mean the Princes are Death eaters too?" Ron gasps indignantly.

"I doubt it, Ron. Their reason for exile wasn't because of being You-know-who supporters. They were accused, but there's no actual proof, though it's a common belief at this point." Hermione points at the paragraph in the middle of the page.

"Still, don't you think them finding Snape is weird? He's a death eater."

"Not anymore remember? He was a spy and saved me right in front of Voldermort." Harry interjects quickly, his voice slightly filled with awe.

"See? And I've been telling you two if Professor Dumbledore trusts him, so should we!" Hermione snaps quietly. She closes the book and runs her finger across the leather edge, "I think the Malfoys weren't very happy about it though. You heard what happened when we were in the corridor."

"Well yeah, the Malfoys are enemies with Dumbledore. Who would have thought Snape actually works for our side anyway. And him working for us doesn't make him less of a git. Checkmate."

Harry pauses momentarily, the quill in his hand tapping slowly on the same spot, "Not sure if you guys noticed, but Dumbledore was... he acted different when Lord Prince was there."

"What do you mean by that?" Ginny sets her novel aside.

Harry looks at his friends, looking for the best words to describe his perplexed mind" I might be wrong, but he seems... shocked, maybe even scared. I know it's weird! But hear me out." Seeing them are about to disagree with him, he quickly continues. "He was standing next to me the whole time and tried to silence when Lord Prince asked me about the... focus stone? He held me back, and I felt his hand shaking."

"Dumbledore? Scared? That's barmy!" Ron gulps down the cold butterbeer, "Well, I mean Fudge looked like he's about to piss his pants too. Who wouldn't be when you are suddenly surrounded by a dozen glowing people?"

"It felt a bit like power-play to me." Ginny recalls one of the past scenes she had read, "A person of great power meets an old nemesis, feeling threatened by his appearance despite having no intention to fight."

"He's Fudge, Ron." Hermione says matter-of-factly, "I'm curious about how he dispersed those stunning spells. That Miss Eileen, or the whole 'proof of treason' fuss. And Alchemy! I never knew it could be so versatile in the Magical world. I should look that up when I have the chance - Harry?"

Ron looks at his friends, noticing Harry staring out the windows, focused. "Mate what are you looking at?"

"Look." Harry jerks his head at the long window. The four make their way to the window, looking straight to the foreground within the school gates. A familiar black figure and a small bird perched on his arm.

"The professor, maybe he has recovered already, is that an owl?"

"Yes, Hermionie dear-"

"That is one unexpectedly cute pygmy owl."

The four jump at the sound of the twins behind them. Ginny almost burst out in laughter at the wriggling elongated eyeball extending from what looked like a brown sneakoscope attaching to a strap around George's head, covering his left eye.

Harry loves the exaggerated depiction of the Auror Moody and is delighted to have given the money to the twins.

"What is that?" Hermione prods and the jelly-like eye cautiously as they hand their new invention over.

"A brand new wizarding wheezes product-" Fred puts his arm around George's shoulders.

"Based on our dear Auror Alastor Moody, we present the Wheezing Magical Eye Lens-"

"Though it's a lot more stable-"

"It can track a target within eight kilometres-"

"If walls are thin enough, you can see through them." Fred flashes them a confident grin.

Hermione presses the strap against her eye, and the relaxed eyeball begins to twirl in the elongated part while the electric blue iris stays motionless. "Everything is so clear! It's better than a telescope. Oh, he's tying something onto the owl."

Harry squints at the view outside, sunbeams obscuring the professor's outline, and catches a flash of metal reflecting under the midday sun, like a collar or necklace.

Fred moves forward to twist a knob next to the circular frame of the eye, making the string-like object twirl faster. Hermione passes the Magical eye to Harry at the annoying noise from the product.

Through the clear, albeit slightly distorted Lens, Snape ties a silvery chain with an odd coin hanging off the larger pin - three arrows and a thin arc in the middle, onto the pygmy owl's leg, with a relatively thick scroll of parchment sealed with grey wax attached. Harry wonders if it's a letter to Lord Prince, as he had asked for, and notes the man's arms are still shaking under the clear view.

"I think he is sending a message to L- the man," Harry whispers, hoping Mrs Weasley doesn't get alerted. "

"Do you think Dumbledore has anything to do with it? He did say the Princes are welcome to visit by the end." Ginny chimes in."

"Possibly." George rests his arm by the window, "but why not do it in the owlery?"

Peeking back into the Magical eye, Snape appears to be murmuring something at the owl, which the tiny creature cocks its head, then flaps its wings in response.

In one elegant movement, the man lifts his arm up as the grey wings soar straight up to the sky, the man's bare black arm seemingly melting into one dark mass with the billowing cloak under the wind. The Lens lifts the eyeball at the front as the owl continues to ascend in the air, but just before it reaches the clouds, it disappears in a flash of brilliant white. Harry recoils from the intense light and quickly turns back to the Lens, now pointing downwards.

"Did you see that!"

"Yeah." Ron is practically sticking his face to the glass, looking up to the blue sky, "Is that how our owls go out as well?"

"If you have been paying attention for the past four years, Ronnikins- "

"They go past the wards instead of evaporating into the air."

"That's why they all stay in the owlery-"

"So that the wards will recognise them-"

"Should have paid attention, Ronny." The twins tease in mock disappointment.

"Could it be a portkey?" the youngest Weasley suggests, smirking at the flushed face of his brother.

"I know portkeys can transport animals, but even owls aren't smart enough to activate one, right? Unless it's accidental," says Hermione, awed, "maybe it has something to do with the necklace."

Meanwhile, Snape is still looking above in the small frame of the Lens, as if he didn't know the owl can do that either, her brings his cloak tighter together and begins to tread back indoors. Reaching the main entrance, the professor comes to a halt, raising his eyes once more.

And looks straight into Harry's soul.

"Har- what?"

"He saw me!" exclaims Harry while ducking under the windowsill, flinging the Magical Lens back at George.

"What? No way." Fred looks out, but there is no trace of the professor, as if he was never there.

"What are you all doing, children?" Mrs Weasley's deceptively calm voice rings behind them, both of her arms perched on her waist.

"Only trying out our newest product-"

"mother dearest."

'And don't you have an essay left? Harry?"

"Working on it!" Harry bolts back to his chair, picking up the quill that rolled onto the floor.

"And you Ron Weasley, stop distracting Harry! The new term is going to start soon. Don't you have books to preview?"

"Mom! There's still a month and a half of summer left!"

"Then start early!"

Even without the argument in the background, an abundance of questions continues to overwhelm his mind - Who are the Princes? What does Snape have to do with them? Why did Dumbledore react that way? What will the order do after losing their spy? What about the Malfoys and the Slytherins?

What happened between his mother and the professor?

Time flows quick as Harry attempts to solve the puzzle, yet not a single piece is found.


Inside the Head of Ravenclaw's quarters, Pomona and Filius are enjoying their meal. The sun is slowly diving into the far valley, the circular living room is tinged with a lovely peacock blue light. Time moves faster when you are with friends, even for work.

"It would be terrific, " the plump woman says between sips of tea, "if Albus finally decides to hire an accountant; frankly, it is impressive how Minerva can handle all these statements and sort them out every day alongside her other duties. Poor girl must be stretched thin."

Filius sets his fork down with a clink and dabs the corner of his mouth, "I have several guesses to his reasoning, but I have always assumed since Minerva has been his deputy for decades, Albus might as well have merged the two positions with the trust between them." he looks at the unread stack of scrolls next to the tea tray and smiles wryly, "But you are correct, as capable as Minerva is, her work perhaps is a bit too daunting. I do recall Charity helping Minerva with some of the financial reports, during the tournament?"

Pomona huffs in amusement, "That she did, and she was so confident that after researching muggle accounting for two years she could handle it with ease, and only lasted a week in the end."

"Well, can't say no one warned her." The half-goblin chuckles, banishing the empty plates and floats the unfinished work back in front of them, "Let's just hope our headmistress will be sober enough tomorrow."

A soft melodious rhythm rings at the door as Pomona groans in agreement. Filius looks at the swinging bell at the far left of a row of others in varying sizes, based on the visitor system that he created, it't must be a faculty member.

"I thought Albus is at the ministry again?" He turns to ask his friend

"Wouldn't have been Rubeus either." Pomona peers down to the Groundskeeper's hut at the forest's edge, the fluorescent light shining out from the windows with smoke steadily rising from the chimney.

"Sybil?" Filius calls out, wand hovering and ready to cast a cushioning charm in case the less-than-sober professor falls when the door swings open.

"Filius." a muffled yet acquainted voice past the dark oak , "Are you occupied at the moment? I shall return tomorrow."

The door tears itself open and slams at the stone wall with the velocity the charms professor lashes his wand in the air, jostling all three of them alongside the teacups.

After a pregnant silence as they hold onto each other's gapes, Pomona surges forward and enfolds the gaunt man without a word, almost toppling over. Filius slowly walks ahead in amazement and relief, perhaps amused at the strict professor's apprehensive demeanour, with sniffles coming from the older woman.

"Pomona... Not too hard...!"

"Oh! My bad! I'm just- just-" she pulls her arms off and pats around the lanky frame, carefully avoiding the wounded area, the Head of Hufflepuff is reduced to incoherent sobs. Filius's eyes are also shimmering with tears of joy.

"Merlin's sake, not you too Filius." the annoyance in that tone does not help the turbulent emotions.

"Not that I'm unhappy to see you," the half-goblin feigns a cough and says, "but is it alright for you to be out of bed that early, Severus?"

"I have been stuck to a bed for two weeks and have no desire to stay there longer than necessary." The young professor grunts, tugging his robes closer, "that aside, there is something I must ask your expertise to be dealt with, am I interrupting?"

"Not at all! Do come in. We have just finished our meal." Filius summons another chair and cup of steaming tea around the table as the group moves back in, glancing at the jet black flesh peeking out from the left sleeve.

Settling into their seats, Severus willfully ignores Pomona's fidgeting and looks at the mountainous scrolls.

"Those are financial records." he points out plainly.

"Ah, since Minerva is inaccessible at the moment, we opted to take off some of her load. Anyhow, what can I help you with?"

"My magic... For the lack of better terms, has gone haywire and embarrassingly obstreperous." Severus's face pulls into a frown."

"Don't be discouraged Severus, you have just recovered after all. It is common to have weakened magic after detrimental events. It's always good to practice some simple spells to let your body reaccustom to the presence of magic" Filius knows how much the young man values his own precision in wielding his power. Having been a Charms master for decades, he often advises students and professionals in their journey of rehabilitating with magic, inwardly giddy that even Severus would seek his guidance.

"Filius. I am afraid my situation is the complete opposite."

At both of his colleagues' surprised and curious looks, the potions master takes out a spare piece of torn parchment from the robe's inner pocket, hoping to demonstrate, "Make the strongest shield possible please, both of you."

Pomona and Filius unanimously cast a protego maxima around the three of them, a luminous dome within the confines of the walls. Upon hearing the solemnity in the young man's tone, the half-goblin thought of weaving a basic protection ward across his quarters, but it decided it might be a little excessive.

Noticing that Severus is ready to cast with his hand, Pomona interrupts, "Where's your wand?"

"With Albus, I presume." The man replies impassively.

"For two weeks!" She exclaims, somewhat disturbed by the man's lack of reaction, "Is that normal for you?"

"Magical stability often has to do with the presence of the wand, you are aware of that?" Filius brushes his moustache, unable to understand Albus's actions, "Well, perhaps let's try something wandless first. Go on!"

Severus eyes the shield sceptically, then points at the parchment, flicking his finger upwards as the other two watch eagerly.

The parchment has the same fate as the feather, shooting itself into the vaulted ceiling. The shield shatters as it provides no resistance to the bullet-like power. If it weren't for Severus's quick reaction, Filius might have fallen out of the high chair at the strong gust of wind. The documents are scattered across the stone floor, some landing on Pomona's apron.

Cinders fall from the burnt spot above them as the room ceases to shudder.

"Reparo"

The pieces of ashes halt mid-air and rise back up. Shattered ornaments and torn pages of the books mended themselves, and the intact piece of parchment drifts into Filius's unfinished cup of tea.

"Oh Merlin." says Pomona faintly, astonished.

"That happened when I was using Poppy's wand."Severus winces and looks at the speechless charms master with a pointed "You see what I mean" expression.

"I think..." Filius readjusted his spectacles with a shaking hand, regaining his composure, "it might be better to ask Albus. I have seen cases where people with powerful cores get a spike after being unable to use magic for a prolonged period. Occasionally magic lashes out after an extended time of suppression, but never... to this degree."

"This is a lot like how fluxweed repairs itself after an injury, now that I think about it." The herbology professor ponders, "Like most plants, they will grow an extra leaf or petal after a cut or being torn off. The difference is that fluxweed petals will harden and grow another ring to protect the seedpods, but if you harvest them one moon cycle after its maturity, the number of seeds will quadruple."

Filius's eyes are sparkling with curiosity, but suddenly recalls the runic seal Lord Prince imprinted on the arm.

"Severus, have you tried doing magic with your other arm.?"

The young man's eyes widen, tentatively raising the blackened arm from his lap onto the table. Pomona barely conceals a squeak at the sight, the dreadful scene resurfacing.

Severus furrows his brows in concentration, trying to summon the porcelain teapot into his hand.

The teapot stays very still, until...

Well, it doesn't move at all.

The young man visibly deflates at the instability of his magic, in which Pomona reaches out and rubs his shoulder lightly.

"I suspect that the runes on your arm have blocked the flow of magic to your left arm, plus the absence of a conduit caused this power fluctuation. But whatever Lord Prince did rebounded the curse on your body and restricted it to your arm, very intriguing..." Filius taps a finger at his chin while scanning across the bare ink-coloured arm, blinking owlishly. "I think it would be best to retrieve your wand as soon as possible, so you can practice reigning in your tenacious flow. I'm sure you've heard of the candle-blowing exercise, right?"

They both chuckle at the fierce glare from Severus, who does not find a speck of hilarity at the prospect of needing to practice controlling his magical flow like a first-year.

The Hufflepuff turns serious, "Just curious, Severus. Is it a common occurrence that Albus would keep your wand after you come back from your duties for the order injured?"

Noting the young man's closed-off expression, Filius explains, "Ah, Pomona and I are part of the order now, so it's safe for you to -"

"You WHAT!" The ex-spy shoots up from his chair, "Are you two insane! And Albus allows it?"

"Well," Pomona stutters, shocked by the furious reaction, "Albus did invite Filius before summer, but since both of us are now aware of your former duties and the group, it's not like I'd prefer obliviation."

"You two very well should be. What in Circe and all things holy was Albus thinking! Do you both understand your lives are basically in constant threat once you join the order, even just knowing about it!" he growls, hand ruffling his hair in irritation. Filius hears the young man murmuring, "What have I done" to himself and is slightly guilty that he didn't know about his predicament before summer. He thought Severus was only going to You-Know-Who because of the calling of the mark instead of spying, which he presumed ended after Albus's testament at the end of the first war.

"We both know it's dangerous, Severus. But it is time for us to contribute our efforts as well. And you're not alone anymore this time." Filius says comfortingly.

Severus dips his head, hiding his face behind his hair, "My apologies, there is... it would certainly be more assuring to know that you both are not involved at the main effort."

"If you're worried about my ability to hold people off, I always carry a good bottle of bubotuber pus." Pomona puffs up while patting the breast pocket of her inner protection gown.

Filius could hear a huff from the man. He then stands up silently with the cursed arm carefully hidden under the robes, "I shall return to my own quarters. That said," he jerks his chin at the stacks of documents, "You might as well give them to me."

"But, shouldn't you re-"

"I have been assisting Minerva in cataloguing them, and I do not want to rot my head from lying down all day." Severus strides over, takes the whole heap of reports in his arms, and makes his way towards the door, "Have a pleasant night, both of you."

When either of them reacted, the Potions Professor had long disappeared from the doorway.

The two stay silent, contemplating as they finish the rest of their cooled tea.


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Severus,

You should have received this letter from a kingfisher tapping at your window, as I remember the Slytherin Head of House quarters can look out to the lake. Kindly feed her a flobberworm as she has been flying around the continent for the week. I will bring Corrán when we meet.

I am pleased to know that you are recovering well, even though it would be best if you stay in bed for a more extended period, but I believe there is no stopping a determined man like you. And as to your query in your second note. No, the seal was just a short-term solution. Unfortunately, the purpose of it is to control the power on all three levels with a stasis. A glamour will not serve its purposes as per normal circumstances, though something physical is possible, preferably a charmed glove or even muggle cosmetics. I will search for something more sustainable prior to that day.

Since I have a conference to attend on the mentioned date of the meeting, I might very well be unable to participate in time, but I will arrive as soon as possible. Kindly apologise to the headmaster on my behalf for the inconvenience. And if he has any further questions before our meeting, do direct him to write to Assemblaggio Principe or House of Princes, addressed to the Overseer. She will not be coming alongside me, having to be overwhelmed by our sudden intrusion and hasn't been in the best condition since, though she wishes you a quick recovery.

If permitted, I would like to meet Mr Potter as well. There is something I would like to discuss with you both.

While it is still disheartening to hear about your refusal to join our work, I do have a better understanding of your situation, but dare I ask you to continue the usual transactions between us, same set, same price, as long as you are willing. They are a significant relief in her daily life, and she might as well be the only one I can call family. I sincerely hope she will stay with us longer. For now, I shall remain optimistic that you may reconsider sometime in the future, whenever the conflict ends. Hopefully, I can clear the resentment and misunderstandings you may have towards the House of Prince.

Feel free to show this letter to Mr Dumbledore. It will automatically alter the readers' view aside from the designated receiver.

La magia fa la scelta, non il sangue

Until we meet again,

Ydragyros Principe
Overseer
Lord to the House of Prince

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Hey people, I'm not dead yet, but please don't kill me!

I recently started Uni year 1 in late September in the UK, and I'm now officially an illustration animation student! This also means inductions and projects everywhere, and the past month or so has been me wrestling with my schedules and using whatever free slots I have to write, thankfully I adapted quickly to this new life and have been managing my time well :), and perhaps after a few weeks in the UK and listening to lectures, my thoughts in what I might write seems to be a lot more coherent. (hopefully)

Fun fact about the twin's invention: I actually dreamt about it after a school workshop on illustration compositions with paper, and someone made this image with an elongated eyeball, which reappeared in my dream of Moody talking with Dumbledore with his magical eye suddenly pulled and stretched out by Walburga (don't ask why), least to say there might be more Weasley inventions to come if people keep making weird stuff in class.

As per usual, comments, criticism and advice are much appreciated. I'll see you all in the next chapter :D