Standard disclaimers apply. Anybody who sues me proves himself that he is an utterly stupid dumbass who cannot think.
Summary: Contrary to what others presumably know or think, Professor Severus Snape is not a spy but the employer of spies. And also contrary to what other people think, Albus Dumbledore is really manipulative bastard more than genial omnipotent old coot he's made himself to be, and Harry is in grave danger with him.
Silver, Mercury and Moonlight are not the color of a spy's cloak
Astral Fou-lu
Author Note:
Pyramidal Apollo and nptrenko – thank you! Your to reviews was what compelled me to pick up on this fic.
Hermione caught the man reeling forward towards her and muttered a Relaxing charm, leaving Severus breathing hard in her arms, the both of them almost sprawled on the cold stone floor. He's right, she thought. We cannot help it. Things had gone so far that Severus Snape went so far as to let a trusted member of his own circle of spies pull out part of his memory. He didn't merely let Hermione Granger, the Facilitator to whom he had entrusted the taks of spying on the Boy-Who-Lived Obliviate him, he had made sure no part would be Uncovered by an anti-Obliviate spell. He made sure that it was thrown out and put in a pensieve that would be properly disposed of later on. Unlike the usual use of the pensieve, which is the recording of memories, this particular one involves a total transfer of memories in such a way that it leaves nothing of the memory in it's owner. Which was in the very least painful.
The process wasn't finished yet, though. Hermione put out the other pensieve and poured the contents on the wound on top of Snape's head. Merlin, he should use my brand of shampoo, she thought, then admonished herself in lettinng her thoughts stray. Such a careless act could give Snape tendencies to do his everyday hygiene habits the female way, sine the next step involved Hermione transferring thoughts which she had concocted for the purpose to replace the ones she had pulled out.
It was of him going into Hogsmeade to buy peppermint. Revenge, though mild. As the contents were all emptied out and into Snape she performed a charm to close the wound.
After the process Hermione had been the one to stand up first, pulling a hyperventilating Snape up and prodded him gently to the nearest stool. "There, there, now, Sir. What do you remember…?"
"I left peppermint by that cauldron over there," he said weakly, steadying himself on his stool. "What the hell am I doing with candy?"
Hermione let herself a chuckle. Well, at least he could not remember where he had sent Emeliore. "For my reward, maybe." She walked away from the tired professor and picked up the two pensieves.
Severus rubbed his temples. "I could not, for the life of me, remember what I am I going to do with those toxic sweets," he admitted acidly. "But I suppose you could have them, Granger."
As Hermione destroyed the pensieve which had Severus' original memories into a mixture of fine ash and drops of silver plasma she turned her head to look at her sullen professor. "So the candy's on the house, isn't it, Snape?"
"Careful, Granger," Severus growled half-heartedly. "Or I'll receive recompense in kind other than candy."
"Fine, fine," Hermione waved off artlesstly, pouring the debris which were delicate memories into the sink, into the sewers, never to be recovered again.
Draco Malfoy yawned a wee bit too loudly that it gained an hour's worth of detention with Filch from Professor James Potter. Which was odd, since James Potter was generally lenient with his students, even those from the Slytherin house.
He shifted in the seat in Potter's office, waiting for him. As he looked around the room, he quickly deduced that the popular notion that Professor James Potter being a compassionate and caring being was very much true. An out-of-place stuffed toy perched on a dresser which was in turn cluttered with various memorabilia, a vase full of flowers charmed not to wilt forever was placed on the table beside him and a box of sugar quills, presumably for visiting younger students occupied a corner of the teacher's desk.
No wonder the kids love him. I reckon I like him too, Draco admitted to himself.
He was contemplating on filching one of the sugar quills for himself when a soft creak resounded from the left.
"Professor," Draco said, standing up.
"No need to be so formal, Draco," James said, gesturing for the Slytherin to sit down. "Are you getting soft, son of Malfoy?" James quipped, but Draco was not sure for the life of him why or for what. James put down his battered case on the dresser on his way to sit on his desk.
"What do you mean?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowing. Even he could not tell whether James was making fun of him.
James smiled knowingly, making Draco relax and put aside his doubts. "I was waiting for you to do something to my son that would merit my full wrath and detention."
"Eh? What happened to your Gryffindor bias?" Draco gaped at his Transfiguration professor, which ultimately made him look like a goldfish. He was being made fun of, now he was sure of it. The blasted vampire, why did ever Dumbledore hire him?
James lifted an eyebrow at his expression. "Now, now, don't be tense around me. I just needed to have an excuse to talk to you, is all."
Now Draco, once again, visibly relaxed. I swear, talking to Harry's father is like a roller-coaster ride for my heart, he thought. "Oh. So what do you want?"
James sobered. "I just wanted to know how much Harry is communicating privately with the Headmaster."
"I can't answer that properly, sir. I'm in Slytherin, in case you forgot."
"I know, but I couldn't ask those questions to those close to him, it would arouse suspicion. Not to mention my son hates me." James slightly cringed at the matter, running his hands through his hair. Ever since he was discovered alive by the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore hired him into the Hogwarts staff to pull Harry's strings. At first, it worked, and a happy reunion ensued for two weeks, until James ("Stupidly," as Severus would say) could not stop himself from jabbering about how he was just used by Dumbledore, and Harry's alienation towards his father was incensed into hatred when Dumbledore let out 'confidentially' to Harry that James was actually a vampire, and in addition planted some seeds that James would not know of which helped Harry's hatred against James grow into forest fire. Something that involved his mother's death.
"Pity," Draco murmured sincerely. "I hope Voldemort gets Dumbledore."
James shook his head. "If ever that happens Dumbledore's wishes would be instantly granted. We should keep him alive until all of these clear up."
Draco suddenly brightened up. "How about Granger?"
"What about her?"
"She is somehow involved with Professor Severus' group," Draco confided. "You know…"
"Ah," James said, realization dawning. "Yes…yes, I wouldn't put past Severus to choose someone close to Harry who also had a potential to aid the cause…but how did he recruit her?"
"Something happened to Granger," Draco muttered darkly.
"Which is…?" James prodded.
"…a trade secret," Draco finished. "She told me not to tell anyone, except one person who could help her. I chose Professor Snape."
"A very wise choice," James remarked. "I'll do as you say. Would you please tell Miss Granger for me, to come here this evening?"
"I will, if you promise not to drain her of her blood."
"I'll make sure I'll leave some so that she could live," James quipped. "You'd rip off my guts if I kill your fiancée wouldn't you, Draco?"
A week later
Severus only waited for ten minutes for the key members of the Serpent's Den to complete the attendance in the drawing room of his mansion. There was Emeliore of Frost, lounging on the couch, hogging the space ("Hey, I earned this, didn't I, Master?) with Draco being irked at him ("Oi! I also have the right to this couch!"), Hermione Granger was talking half-seriously and half-animatedly to Blaise Zabini, both sitting on large throw pillows, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, both also members of the Order of the Phoenix, were helping themselves to the food, and Gabrielle Delacour, the sister of the French champion Fleur Delacour had just finished putting her things aside, having just arrived. Elfienne Bolivar, the group's expert at Divination, was jabbering incessantly on the muggle phone, a trait not usually associated with those of her expertise.
Severus cleared his throat. Elfienne hastily muttered parting words and put down the phone, and the others have shifted their attentions to him. "I'll not dawdle away with greetings, as you already know too much has happened in the last few weeks since our last meeting. Are there any progress?"
Hermione, not unlike her usual know-it-all-self shot her hand up in the air, earning the uncalled-for laughter of Black and Bolivar ("Oh, shut up you two!" muttered Emeliore).
"I know this is not really related to our agenda but Professor Snape, I think you should know about Professor James Potter."
Severus' interest was piqued. So are Black's and Lupin's. "And what about?"
It was then that Draco cut in. "Last Monday he called me down on the pretext of my yawning being too loud and…"
"You deserve it…" Emeliore broke in, stretching his limbs and at up straight.
Draco threw an irritated look at Emeliore but proceeded with his report. "It turned out that he just needed an excuse to talk to me. He wanted to know how often Harry met with Dumbledore privately."
"It would seem that James Potter finally suspects," Snape assessed. "Go on, Draco."
Puffing up with seeming importance, he beamed sardonically at Emeliore who in turn glowered with mock anger. "I advised him to ask Hermione here instead, since she's the one closest to Harry among all of us."
"I told Professor Potter that Dumblesdore talks to Harry three times a week at most," Hermione said.
Silence filled the room for a moment.
"We do not know how much Dumbledore casts and re-casts the Memory Charm (which we still do not know of what kind, exactly), so trying to cure Harry at this stage is just plain ridiculous. Our cover will be blown, as will the membership of the Order of the Phoenix to some of us will be revoked," Snape told them. "We will just bide for the right time, then we will try to get Harry to our side. We need him, he's almost Tom Riddle's twin when we speak of power."
Remus cut in. "Is it possible that you will let James Potter in our group?"
Snape thought for a moment before answering. "The idea had just crossed my mind, however, what does he possess that would benefit our cause? The mere fact that Harry's father is a liability in itself. James Potter just attracts too much attention."
"Well, yeah, but James' magical ability is way above most of us," Sirius said. "He was Gryffindor's heir before Harry came along, Severus."
"That may be true, Black, but James' expertise is of more use in the frontlines, in which we do not operate, since having Emeliore here is enough (Emeliore grinned), and we need those with expert covert abilities and connections. James' only valuable is sadly frayed, since he had lost Dumbledore's trust and Harry's as well." Severus explained, digging into his pocket and fished out a cigarette. He lighted it with a discreet wave of his wand and took a long puff.
"Christ, Severus, I wish you were a bit more concerned of you health," commented Elfienne, who was sitting closest to him, slightly coughing.
"Consider that as my recompense for making me pay your long-distance bills, Elfienne."
"Geez, I'm just concerned, that's all," the dark-haired young witch huffed.
"Well, Severus? What is your decision about James?" Remus inquired, a bit impatiently.
"I do not know as of now, Lupin. However, may I trust Draco and Miss Granger to observe him and give me latest developments concerning him?" Severus said, turning to Draco and Hermione, who were discreetly holding hands.
Severus pointedly stared at the clasped hands, which tentatively let go by the flushing pair. "Er, well, yeah, of-of course," stammered Draco. The two seventh years were rivaling the Weasley coloring.
"And also tell us whether Malfoy's got a new heir, 'kay?" Blaise remarked.
Harry stared outside the window of his Divination classroom. As always, Trelawney predicted his death. She always did every day.
And then, as he was beginning to feel drowsy, his scar hurt.
"Miss Hannah, please fetch the Headmaster immediately!"
As he swam in a mixture of pain and nausea, Harry wondered why Trelawney called for Dumbledore instead of Madame Pomfrey.
TBC
Note: Yeah, this may be a bit slow chapter, but that was for the backgrounder! I'll deal with more action starting next chapter.
Reviews are extremely welcome!