Standard disclaimers apply.

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. James Potter also arrives at the scene, unharmed and a vampire.

Silver, Mercury and Moonlight are not the color of a spy's cloak

Astral Fou-lu

Professor James Potter quickly dropped his quill, spilling errant ink across the page that he was grading while the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw classes were practicing transfiguring stones into quills. As a vampire, he could read minds, which made him deal with the preternatural noise that the jabbering minds of those around him make. At first, he could not control whose minds he could read, only those who were in his immediate surroundings. Now, after thirteen years since he Voldemort sent a vampire in Lily's image to kill him (which was obviously thwarted) but instead made him another vampire instead, James could not only now focus his mind reading abilities to a narrower target, but also extend the range in which he could mind-read.

Voldemort.

Voldemort.

Voldemort.

It hurts.

"Harry," he whispered, and then hastily gave to the class last minute instructions since he would leave the class early and bid them to just leave their transfigured objects in the shelf reserved for their use.

Running at inhuman speed towards the Divination Tower, he seemed to his human peers as a passing tornado, producing a strong gust of wind as he went past them. If he could only increase the rate he was going a tad higher, then he could very well rival the Apparating charm as the fastest means of transportation.

As he neared the Divination tower he sensed two other presences other than his sons. He decided to investigate first, hiding himself in the shadows at the wall behind the hall the four were congregating.

"Well, Harry? What are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked, touching the back of his palm against Harry's forehead as if trying to sense if he had a fever.

"I feel sick," Harry put in bluntly. Although, James could read more than that: I feel like shit. Voldemort's going to attack Hogwarts very, very, soon, but I don't want to tell anybody. They couldn't do anything. Might as well spend the rest of our lives happy.

James cursed. Damn it, Harry! You were supposed to be stronger than that! What happened to you? What happened to my son? Obviously Dumbledore was breaking Harry into resignation everytime they meet. Dumbledore needed Harry for his own purposes, but to what extent he did not know. For Dumbledore, Harry was a very, very strong weapon. It took James the very, very hard way to find out.

"I know you were the one who told Pettigrew to insist being our Secret-Keeper, Dumbledore," James had scathingly lashed at Dumbledore. "Tell me the truth! What was wrong with having Sirius?"

Dumbledore gave him the usual twinkling, though there was a disturbing shadow in his eyes. "For Gryffindor's cause, James, I decided that you and your son do not measure to being his Heirs."

James was dumbstruck. "Wha-what do you mean?" Then he tensed, anger showing in his bare teeth, realization hitting him hard. "You tried to kill us, don't you? You didn't only play with us, you played with Voldemort as well…"

"Be thankful to the fates that you weren't killed, James," Dumbledore said, his genial tone sugarcoating his words. "Be thankful that I gave you a position at Hogwarts, to be near your son again," Dumbledore smiled. "Keep in mind that you cannot touch me, James Potter. Because if you or anyone else does, it will only hasten my victory over Voldemort. You know that."

Only this time, Dumbledore's war against Voldemort does not necessarily entail the safety of the Wizarding World. He was only against Voldemort's ascension to power in the very reason that he saw him as his rival. Like Voldemort, he wanted to become the most powerful wizard

Dumbledore was as evil as Voldemort. Only, he was worse. He was betraying the whole Wizarding World along the way.

Pulling his wits together he straightened his countenance and resolved to talk to Dumbledore and his son. What hurt would that do, James ruefully thought. Stepping out of the shadows he pasted on what could be termed as a 'Remus Lupin' mask, termed so after the original kindly teacher, Remus Lupin. Approaching the small group he beamed and said, "Well, well, it's a great day isn't it?" gesturing with an arm towards the window showing the bright sunshine outside. Unlike other vampires, he could stand sunlight, as long as he wore the charmed band Remus braided for him around his upper arm. Remus Lupin, being a werewolf, was well-versed in Dark Arts and was more than eager to share his knowledge to his long-lost friend.

Dumbledore, not willing to lose his mask, James thought, decided to play along. "Yes, yes, very much so, it is a good thing that you could see sunlight, James."

James let himself a small laugh. "Well, yes, who would have thought?"

Severus, standing by Dumbledore's side with his arms crossed looked at James meaningfully, with a hint of his usual sarcasm. "James, your…son here has his scar hurting. Maybe the change of topic is in order?" James could tell though, that Severus was merely sizing him up. He knew that Hermione Granger probably told Severus of his suspicions…no, his antagonism towards the old bastard.

And Draco had slipped something about 'Professor Severus' group'. He had suspicions that there was an underground current running against Dumbledore's tide, only that he did not even suspect that Severus Snape was behind it all. What he knew about Severus Snape was that he was a spy for Dumbledore against Voldemort, just one of his tools. But Draco's small Freudian slip had propelled him to go to the right person for help.

"Mmm," James murmured absently. As he read Harry's mind it was clear that he was under Dumbledore's thrall, so it was no use communicating to him telepathically, and so he just said, "What does his hurting scar mean?" he asked, although it was apparent that James already knew what it meant.

"That Voldemort is coming," Harry looked up at him warily. James thought he saw a faint glimmer of familial recognition in Harry's eyes, but then his son cringed in pain. "Arrgh…"

Severus noticed Harry's reaction too, as he had narrowed his eyes.

Dumbledore then took it as a cue to wrap an arm around Harry and lead him away to his office. "Well, then, let Harry have his rest…"

James cleared his throat. "In your office?" he inquired. Severus surreptitiously went to his side and nudged him, thinking, What the bloody hell are you thinking, James?

Trying to make Dumbledore's mask slip, James answered telepathically. Severus' eyes widened for a fraction of a second, realizing that James had replied in his mind, but regained his composure quickly. Vampires.

Well, what did you expect?

It wasn't meant for you, Potter. Are you going to give my thoughts privacy? Severus thought back, while he said to James verbally "Of course, his office. Do you have problems with it, Potter?"

"Only that I wish I would be granted more time with my son…" James whispered, but audible to the others.

Harry clutched Dumbledore's arm tighter. "No, thank you. I think we had spent enough time already," then to Dumbledore, "Let's go."

The two walked away, leaving the two vampires, the one real and the other popularly assumed, standing side by side, silent but not in their thoughts.

Mind reading and telepathy. Interesting.

Could I read that, Severus?

You already did. And Potter, do you have the decency to leave my thoughts?

Don't worry, I'm going to read only your surface thoughts. And I won't stop until you help, me, Severus.

What help?

Well, since we're only talking in our minds, I'll be frank: I want you to help me save my son and kill, KILL both Dumbledore and Voldemort.

"Excuse me…" a timid voice spoke up behind them. Severus and James abruptly turned around to see that they had been blocking the hallway. What are they doing trying to imitate statues blocking the way? And Snape with Professor Potter? Weird… James grinned as he read the Hufflepuff first-year's thought.

Are they bonding with each other? Another wondered, sending James into uncalled for fits of laughter. Severus looked at James as if to say 'I'm not with this madman'.

James decided to part ways with Severus, with the realization that other students may think worse than that haunting him.

James, meet me in my office tonight.

Huh? Oh, of course.

Still reading my thoughts? Damn you.

Can't help it.

"Ah…the smell." James said, taking a deep breath, obviously savoring the scent of various herbs in Snape's office. "You know, you'd best be a vampire," he remarked at the Potions master who was just finishing in putting labels on his jars. "you'd be able to tell different kinds of potions by smell alone…not half bad."

Severus was thinking whether to enlist James Potter's services for their mission, but he had now decided that his mind-reading skills was a definite plus, more than Veritaserum.

"I was thinking, Potter…"

"If I would join the Serpent's Den," James finished for him. "Yes."

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Look, Potter, since I could not stop you from invading my privacy, could I just ask you not to let me know that you've been flagrantly reading my mind? It is very disturbing."

James smiled. "You've just told me that you don't mind me reading it. You're hiding nothing from me…that's not very Slytherin, isn't it?"

"I have nothing to hide." Severus grinned snidely. "Because there is nothing there."

Severus could very well gloat about how he disposes critical memories, only if Hermione left it in his mind. But since she also conveniently included it in the disposal process, he did not have even an inkling about it.

James shook his head and concentrated on reading further into Severus' mind, but then the Potions master slammed a mug full of Ogden's Firewhisky. "I could almost feel you digging in my mind. You must be losing your touch."

"Hmm…" James murmured, his eyes closed. "Damn, I can't go further into your mind. What did you do?"

"I don't know," Severus muttered as he poured himself a glass. "Why should I tell you?"

"Trade secrets, I guess…" James said, taking a long swig of the liquid fire, then raised his glass ("Where are your manners, Potter?" said Severus) "Cheers,"

"Cheers," Severus said, and he lifted the glass to his lips, but it never reached them. Severus suddenly dropped his glass, shattering it into a million pieces and he clutched convulsively at his right arm. "V-Voldemort…" Severus gasped, wide-eyed. "H—calling me…"

Alarmed, James supported Severus, letting him lean onto the mantle. Then an idea struck him.

"Severus, give me your right arm. Quick."

Without even thinking, Severus lifted his arm with the Dark Mark still burning, and James touched it with his hand, closing his eyes again.

"The Forgotten Mountains…" James whispered. "Malfoy Senior. Pettigrew…" James took time to curse loudly. "the others…wait," he hissed. "Voldemort and a younger Riddle?"

Severus, even through his pain, was aghast with wonder. This man could tell the location of where Voldemort is without me going there, he wondered. Elfienne will have a run for her money.

Miss Granger, Severus has his Dark Mark burning, Hermione heard as she was writing her thesis in her dormitory. Quickly she turned around, looking for the source of the voice. "W-who is it?"

"What, Hermione?" Lavender asked. "Did you hear something?"

I'm not there, Hermione. This is Professor Potter. I'm in the dungeons.

"What do you want me to do?" Hermione asked the wall, making Lavender and Parvati stare at her as though she was out of her mind. She realized that James Potter had the ability to do telepathy, him being a vampire, but it wasn't well-documented and was written down as legend.

Come here, quick. Send other members you could find, as well.

Having just received instructions given out by Hermione, Emeliore of Frost hurried into the direction of the Forgotten Mountains, half-flying, half-running above the trees of the Forbidden Forest. The wind carried him on his way, and he only stopped in the fringes of the Forest, realizing that the Forgotten Mountain territory was Unplottable. If he went in, not only would he be out of reach (and help) of the other members, but he could not use his little magic, as well. He may not fight as well as he could on the usual areas.

Perched precariously (again) atop a very high branch, Emeliore surveyed the area. He drew his sword just in case, and as he glanced at his right side he spied a black hawk swooping down at him.

"Shit!" Emeliore lifted his sword and lunged at the attacking bird. The bird protracted its claws and, with a loud shriek, tried to dig into Emeliore's eyes. The man effectively swiped his blade at the bird, cutting off half of its left wing, sending it spiraling down into the ground.

"Damn," Emeliore muttered, sure that the bird was sent by the Death Eaters, since he was given by Remus Lupin a deterrent charm to repel animal's attentions from him. Unless that was an animagus.

Deciding that he better risk all, he jumped off the branch and glided down to the ground, the wind supporting him. He made a sign of the Cross, for luck, the moment he stepped over the threshold between the Forbidden Forest and the Forgotten Mountains.

The moment he fully entered the territory of the Forgotten mountains, he had hacked one head off a Death Eater before advancing another step. He was being waited upon, and he decided that he should not waste the welcome. But one of the Death Eaters removed his mask and stared at him, leaving Emeliore stunned long enough for him to be knocked down, but not before he said the name of the Death Eater.

"Harry…?"

"No," The Death Eater said coldly. "I'm Tom Riddle."

TBC