Disclaimer: The setting of this story, and most of the characters are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, I lay no claim to them. However the characters of Malana Avonell and Schön are of my own creation and to these two, I do claim rights.

Author's Note:  My many thanks to my Beta Reader – Doctor K.

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Professor Malana Avonell dismissed her last Rune class of the day, a collection of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw third years.  As the last of the 13-year-olds drifted from the room, she slumped into her desk chair and stared up at the blackboard.  Schön jumped silently onto the desk and nuzzled her hand.  She responded by stroking him and scratching behind his ears.  The cat purred contentedly, leaning heavily into the scratching.

After several minutes, she rose, went to the board picked up the eraser and began removing the last lesson from its surface.  She stopped after only two swipes.

"Oh bother," she sighed, and traced a simple pattern in the air.  At once the blackboard was cleared and washed.

"You were always one for the easy way out," snarled a voice from the classroom.

"I thought we had agreed on a truce," she answered curtly, turning toward the speaker.

Snape raise one eyebrow and regarded her coldly. 

Avonell swept from the head of the classroom muttering, "And I suppose you've never done the same?" as she passed him.  Two steps beyond that she stopped and turned back.  "No, wait.  I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have said that.  I agreed to a truce and I'm going to honor that agreement," she turned.

"Is that to imply that I won't?" he shot back.

"No, Severus, it's a statement of my intent.  That's all," she told him wearily.  "The scroll is in my office.  I'll be right back."

She returned a few moments latter, unrolling the scroll as she joined Snape.

"Ok, the character set… umm… symbols, are High Sevlorian, but not the usage," she told him as she spread the parchment on the desk.  They weighted the corners down to keep it from rolling up again.

"I think, what we may have here is a cipher or encryption of some sort," she continued.

"Then you should be able to translate it without my help," Snape said silkily moving closer to get a better look at the scroll.

"Not necessarily," she replied evenly.  "Severus, Dumbledore has explained your … ah … involvement with Voldemort," she started slowly, turning to face him.  "I'm not accusing you of anything, in fact you have my deepest respect; the life of a double agent is rather precarious, if not out right dangerous.  But I need to know.  Do you have any prior knowledge of this?" she indicated the scroll.

"No," he answered maintaining her eye contact, "I'm not part of the inner circle."

She nodded and turned back to the desk.

"Ok," she continued, "I suspect that the underlying language is English.  However, as there are only 26 letters in the English alphabet and 52 characters, or letters, in High Sevlorian, all of which are represented in the writing, we may have a problem."

Snape remained silent.  Avonell moved to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk.

"Now, if the key is stable, it's merely a matter of determining which of the Symbols correspond to which letter," she went on, "But if the key rotates or shifts, we're in for a long haul."

"So," Snape glared at her, "Where do you suggest we begin?"

Avonell sighed lightly.

"Well, the most common letter in the English language is e.  So we need to query the document and determine which character is the most frequently occurring," she had to stand on tiptoes to reach the top of the black board. "I'll set up a cursor for the result set…" She dropped back onto her heals and lowered her arm.

"Man, I've got to get out more often," she whined, shaking her head.

From behind her Snape chuckled softly with amusement.  The tension broken, the two settled down to work.

Several hours latter, Avonell tossed the stub of chalk back into the tray of the blackboard.  Sighing deeply, she rubbed the back of her neck, trying to relive the sourness that had developed.

"This isn't getting anywhere," she groaned.

Strong hands settled onto her shoulders.  She had to fight the instinct to go on the defensive.  Snape dug his thumbs into the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders. She moaned softly as the tension began to melt away under his massaging.

The classroom door creaked open causing Snape to stop what he was doing and move away from her.

Dumbledore poked his head in.

"When I asked the two of you to translate the scroll, I didn't mean to the exclusion of all else," he said in a parental tone.

Avonell cocked her head inquisitively. 

The Headmaster pushed the door open and stepped inside, followed by Izzy, who was carrying a tray with two tankards and an assortment of sandwiches.

"We missed dinner," Avonell said meekly.

"Yes you did," Dumbledore replied walking to the front of the room, followed by the house elf.

Izzy set the tray on the desk, as Snape re-rolled the scroll.

"Any luck?" the Headmaster asked seating himself.

"Not really," Avonell told him.  She picked up a tankard of pumpkin juice and took a long pull of the cool liquid.

"Well, it is your first attempt," Dumbledore said looking at the blackboard.

As the Professors ate, they explained their progress.

"I believe you've done enough for tonight," Dumbledore said a last.  "This can wait until tomorrow."  He rose from his chair.

Izzy retrieved the tray and started from the classroom.

"Get some rest, both of you," Dumbledore told them before leaving the classroom.

Professor Avonell picked up the scroll.

"Until tomorrow then," she sighed,  "Good night Professor."

***

Saturday mornings were meant for sleeping in as far as Avonell was concerned, but apparently not this morning.

"Yeow," Schön howled very near her ear.

"Go away," she groaned, glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside table.  "It's only 7 o'clock."

"Yeow-wow," he persisted, jumping onto her chest.

"See if Izzy will feed you.  I want to sleep."

Then she heard what had upset the cat, a pounding on her office door.  Groggily she threw the bed sheets off of her, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and sat up.

Shacking off the last vestiges of sleep, she reached for her terry bathrobe.

"God, it can't be Severus, not this early, please," she sighed.  She shuffled out into the office.  "CIM, who is it?" she asked no one.

The computer on the desk winked to life.

"Professor Dumbledore," the female voice of the computer answered.

Avonell drew a deep breath, tightened the belt of her robe and opened the door.

"I'm sorry to disturb you so early," Dumbledore said gently.  She stood aside and allowed him to enter.  "But I have some rather bad news."

Avonell yawned, "Couldn't it have waited?"  She closed the door.

The Headmaster walked to the fire side.

"No, I'm sorry, it wouldn't"

She joined him and faced the old wizard.  His expression was grave.

"Has someone died?" she asked hesitantly.

He shook his head.

"The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, will be in my office at nine.  You are required to be there as well," he told her.

She sank into the chair.  "It was just a matter of time Albus," she replied softly.  "You couldn't keep my presence here a secret for ever."

"No," he said heavily, "But I had hoped it would take longer for the Ministry to hear the news."

"Well, I guess I have no choice then to meet with him," she sat forward.  "What is this Cornelius Fudge like?  Is he likely to hold me to the same restrictions?"

"Most likely," Dumbledore stated sadly.

"Hmm," she glanced at her desk.  "Well at least it's your office and not mine," she rose.  "I'll be there by 8:50."

As promised, Professor Avonell arrived at the Headmaster's office promptly at 8:50, but she was surprised to find that Dumbledore was not alone.  A middle-aged wizard in pinstriped robes sat in a high-backed winged chair before the Headmaster's desk.

"Ah, Professor Avonell," Dumbledore addressed her, standing up as she crossed his office.  "May I present the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge."

Fudge also rose, extending his hand and smiling in a friendly manor.

"So nice to see you again Professor," he said.

Avonell shook hands with the Minister then took a seat in the second chair.

"So sorry to be calling on you on your day off," Fudge started, fidgeting with the lime green bowler hat in his lap.  "But we didn't want to wait, you see."

"That's quite understandable," Avonell replied, fighting the urge to be surly with the Minister.

"You understand that we have to take these precautions?"  Fudge continued.  "Not that we don't trust you."

Avonell smiled maliciously.  "If you trusted me, then why did you find it necessary to see me?"

Fudge's face flushed.

"Now Professor," Dumbledore interjected.  "I'm sure the Minister meant no offence."

"No," Fudge jumped in, "but we must be careful in these troubled times.  It's just that we wanted to make sure that you remembered the vow you made to the Ministry."

Avonell nodded, "I do.  No wand, no broom, no robes and no refereeing to my self as a Witch.  I remember quite well."

"I'm sure you see why we must insist that you honor that vow, even now," Fudge continued.

Avonell raised an eyebrow, and looked the Minister straight in the eye.

"By restricting me, and you know that vow consisted of a great deal more then I just stated, you are severely limiting my usefulness here."

"But, as I remember, you refused to take the actions we requested of you the last time," Fudge's voice betrayed his annoyance.

Avonell sighed deeply.

"By an authority greater then yourself, Minister, I am bound protect, but only in so far as this:  I cannot do for you, what you are capable of doing for yourself," Avonell stated, never losing eye contact.

"But He-who-must-not-be-name, has returned," Fudge said, "And we fear he is even stronger then before."

"There are still those among the Magical community who are capable of defeating Voldemort," she retorted.

Fudge flinched visibly at the mention of the Dark Lord's name.

"One of whom is here at Hogwarts," Avonell continued.  "One who still knows nothing of who and what he is, I remind you."

"And you will not tell him," Fudge shot back in anger, "We have our reasons for not telling him."

"But you would have me train him, wouldn't you?" she accused, "You would keep the secrets, keep me bound by your fear, but still have me teach the student?  You forget, Minister, I am Sevlorian, full blooded Sevlorian, the last of a race even older then your own.  If it were not for the meddling of Nah Cuo-rra Kiy it is doubtful you'd even be here!"

"Professor!"  Dumbledore said in a voice much louder and harsher then was his normal want.

"The boy will know nothing of this!"  Fudge said getting to his feet. 

"How am I to teach him without his knowing?"  Avonell stood as well, facing the Minister head on.  "Do you really think he won't suspect?"

"Both of you sit down!" Dumbledore roared. The room fell into silence, and Professor Avonell and Fudge both sat.

"Now, I believe we can come to some understanding here," the Headmaster said sternly.

Avonell dropped her eyes, and stared at her hands.

"Minister," she said in a soft calm voice, "I do not agree with your position on this, but I will do what I can.  But it may become necessary to divulge information you would rather remain unknown."

"If there is no other way, but I would ask you to cooperate, I would not want to see you removed again," Dumbledore said gently.

Avonell nodded and looked back up at the Minister of Magic.

"You have my word, sir," she told him.

Fudge nodded.

"Then my business here is complete," he sighed.  "Professor, I would ask one favor, a personal favor."

"The Longbottoms?  Yes, Albus has already asked me.  I'm due to see them tomorrow," she answered his unasked request.  "I can give no guaranties until I've had a chance to evaluate their condition."

Fudge nodded. "Then I'll be getting back to the Ministry."

As the door closed behind the Minister, Avonell turned to Dumbledore.

"There are too many secrets, Albus, I'm not sure I can do what you ask of me and still keep all of your secrets," her was voice soft.

The Headmaster smiled at her.

"You will," he said, "I have faith in you."

***

The sun was warm on her face as Professor Avonell walked out into the castle's courtyard, the shadowy gray cat at her heels.  A number of students were taking advantage of the warm day as well.  Avonell found an empty stone bench and settled herself down.  Schön jumped up next to her and curled up.  She removed a stack of papers form the portfolio she carried and began correcting the student's homework.

"Meow," Schön mewed softly.

"I saw them," Avonell answered, "Across the yard."  She glanced up at Ron, Hermione and Harry sitting on the lawn at the far side of the courtyard.  "There will be time for that latter."

She returned her attention to the homework.  After several minutes she glanced up again.  The three had started slowly across the courtyard in her direction.

"Shouldn't we be working?" came the silky baritone voice from behind her.

She looked up turning towards the voice, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.

"It can wait until after lunch, Severus," she said, "I have class work to attend to first."

"Help, some one!"

The despite cry made everyone in the courtyard stop.  A slightly heavyset male student was racing across the lawn.

"There's… there's…" the boy tripped and sprawled face down onto the grass.

"Neville!" someone called.

"Longbottom," Snape hissed, "what has he done now?"

But Avonell was already on her feet and half way to the boy's side.  Ron, Hermione and Harry were the first to reach Neville.  The boy rolled over and sat up, his face pale, his breathing hard.

"There's… there's…" he stammered.

Avonell dropped to her knees,  "Take it easy," she soothed.

Longbottom opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out.

"Neville, what happened?" Harry asked.

The boy turned wide hysterical eyes to his friend. "I saw it," he breathed.

"Saw what, Mr. Longbottom, your shadow?"  Snape had joined them. 

Avonell glared at him for a brief moment then turned to the boy.

"Just relax, take a deep breath and tell me what you saw," she told Neville in a low gentle voice.

The four students looked up at Professor Snape and cringed.  In the moment when the other's attention was off of her, Avonell reached out and brushed Neville's disheveled hair from his face, making brief contact with his temple.  Neville relaxed visibly.

"I saw a man in black robes and a white mask," the boy said mechanically. "In the Castle."

"A Death Eater," Harry said hoarsely.

"You must be mistaken," Snape began.

Avonell was on her feet again.

"No, he's not!" she snapped, seizing the Potions Master by the wrist.

Snape jerked out of Avonell's grip, not so much from the touch, but from the sudden pressure against his thoughts. He eyes blazed at her.

"Don't," he hissed dangerously.

"Tell the Headmaster there's a Death Eater in the Castle, then get the children to safety," she ordered.  Before anyone could react, she was off at a full run.

Snape too wasted no time in setting off, leaving the four students behind.

Harry scrambled to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Hermione called after him.

"To help Professor Avonell," he returned over his shoulder.

Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous glances. Then got to their feet and followed after him.

As Avonell reached the Entrance Hall, McGonagall's amplified voice echoed throughout the Castle

"All students report to the Great Hall.  All staff, report to the first floor staff room."

Avonell skidded to a stop, as the first of the students rushed into the Hall.  Prefects herded their house students toward the Great Hall and general pandemonium took hold. In the mists of the chaos, Avonell drew a deep breath and closed her eyes.  Centering her mind, she tried to sense the whereabouts of the intruder.  Someone ran into her, hard, nearly causing her to lose her balance and fall.

"Sorry Professor," drawled a familiar voice, followed by the snickering of two others.

Avonell turned to face her assailant, Draco Malfoy, and his cronies Grabbe and Goyle.

"Best be moving on, boys," she glared at them, knowing full well that Malfoy had run into her on purpose.

The three moved toward the Great Hall, Malfoy glancing over his shoulder and giving her a devilish grin.

"Yeow!" 

Avonell turned and followed Schön against the tide of Slytherin students, down the staircase leading to the dungeons.  In the sudden silence of the empty corridor, she stopped and listened, straining to hear even the softest of sounds.

A mild commotion from behind her made her jump.  Turning she found Harry, followed by the exasperated Ron and Hermione only a few feet behind her.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.  "Go back upstairs."

"But I've dealt with Death Eaters before," Harry explained.  "I can help."

Avonell looked the boy up and down.

Well, she thought to her self, no time like the present.

"Alright," she said slowly, "There is power in numbers.  Stay alert; we don't know if this Death Eater is alone or not.  And keep and eye on the cat, his senses are far sharper then ours, he will warn of anything."  She moved off down the hallway, Schön in the lead.

Wands out and at the ready, the teens followed after the Professor, trying to be as alert as possible.  The dim hallways seemed to stretch on without end.  After several twists and turns, Schön slunk down into a stalking stance.  Avonell froze putting up a hand to indicate that the teens should do the same.  Schön crouched, ears erect, and whiskers swept forward, his tail lashing sharply from side to side.

"Kak-kak-kak," the sound the cat made was barely audible, as he inched himself forward, every muscle in his feline body tense, ready for the pounce.

They were approaching an intersection. Ron swallowed hard.  He was never comfortable with this sort of thing, and being friends with Harry usually landed him situations like this more often then he cared for. 

Avonell made a 'Down' motion as she crouched close to one wall.  Ron however was slow to follow her example.

"Curcio!" The cry was harsh, echoing against the cold stone walls. Bright light filled the hallway, blinding them momentarily.

Ron's cries were agonizing; hit full force by the spell, he lay on the ground writhing in intolerable pain.  Harry cringed, having experienced the power of the curse himself.

"Ttaahru!" Avonell shouted, turning towards Ron.

A shimmering enveloped Ron, and he stopped screaming.  Wide-eyed and confused the youth sat up and stared down the hall past the Professor.  Harry and Hermione turned to look as well.  There, emerging into the light, a tall figure dressed in black robes, hood drawn up, advanced slowly.  A gloved hand brandished a dark wooden wand.  As the figure approached, a face came into view, the expressionless white mask, Harry had seen the Death Eaters wear.

"How fortunate," the Death Eater said in an oddly familiar voice, "Not only do I get to kill you, Professor, but Potter and his friends as well.  This is most rewarding."

Harry moved to stand beside the Professor, but she pushed him back against the wall.

"Stay put!" she ordered, not taking her eyes off the Death Eater. 

 "Avada kedavra," bellowed the Death Eater.  Green light erupted from the end of his wand.

Harry watched in utter amazement as Avonell traced a circle in air before her, and the green light stopped only a foot in front of her and gathered itself into a swirling green orb.  The orb hung in mid air for a heart beat, and then popped harmlessly, like a child's soap bubble.

"That was a mistake," Avonell growled, Schön hissing and spitting at her feet.

She reached out her hand as if to seize the Death Eater, even though he was at lest 10 feet from her.  Then she closed her fist, rotating it palm up.  At the other end of the hall the black robed figure cried out in pain and clutched his chest, his wand clattering to the floor.  Schön leapt forward, snatching up the wand and disappearing into the shadows.

The man sank to his knees, gasping for breath.  Avonell advanced on him slowly, drawing her fist toward her own chest as she closed the distance between them.

"Fear, Death Eater, fear for your life," she whispered in a low, harsh voice.

Harry scrambled after her, but kept his distance, fearing that to interfere with her would be disastrous. He was only vaguely aware of the arrival of others in the hallway.

Avonell reached the cowering figure and leaned mulishly over him, her face only inches from the anonymous mask.

"Please," he pleaded between gasps, "Don't kill me."

"Don't kill you, why should I spare you?  But then…" she hissed through clenched teeth "No, I will not kill you, this time.  No, this time you will return to your precious Master and tell him Naah Ttaah-gruw-aah has returned.  He will soon pay dearly for his atrocities against my progeny."  Her voice was so venomous that the Death Eater cowered still further, whimpering in spite of himself. She straightened up once again, her glare fixed on the cowering figure.

There was a flash of white light and the Death Eater was gone.

Ron turned to Hermione who was kneeling beside him.

"Bloody Hell," he whispered to her, "Remind me to never get her mad with me."

"Malana," it was Dumbledore who spoke.  He, Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Madam Pomfrey and Snape, stood in the hallway, only a short distance beyond where Ron and Hermione were.  "What happened?"

Avonell turned to face the Headmaster.

"The danger is over," she said calmly, "The intruder is gone, still alive, although he may regret that shortly."

Harry turned also.  Snape was standing at the back of the group, and Harry blinked.  For one very brief moment, he thought he had seen an expression of respect, maybe even adoration cross the gaunt features of the Potions Master face.

Avonell place a hand on Harry's shoulder and urged him forward.  Madam Pomfrey stooped to help Ron of the floor.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

"I'm fine," he answered her sounding somewhat surprised. "Really, I'm fine."

***

Professor Avonell slumped into her desk chair.  Removing a sheet of parchment from the drawer and retrieving the quill from its holder, she wrote a single line: Come to my office, alone.  Avonell.

"Schön, take this to the boy," she said wearily.

The cat jumped to the desk and carefully laid the Death Eater's wand before her.  He accepted the folded note and scampered from the office.

"Was that wise?"  the computer asked, "Letting the intruder go like that?"

"Probably not.  But CIM, I could hardly kill him, his son is a student here," she answered.

"Still, he'll go to Voldemort surely."

"Undoubtedly.  I only hope it won't cause too much trouble for Severus," Avonell sighed.  "Voldemort would have found out eventually."

She leaned her head back against the high back of the chair and closed her eyes.  The expenditure of magic had drained her.  She needed to rest.

Several minutes latter the door to her office swung open and Schön trotted inside.

Avonell closed the computer and slid it and the wand into the top drawer of the desk, an instant before Draco Malfoy swaggered into the room.

"When my father hears that you …" he started arrogantly.

"Your father does not frighten me," she snarled in a manor reminiscent of the Head of his own house.

Malfoy stopped in front of her desk.  "Then why did you call me here?" he drawled.

"Because I must ask you to see that this is returned to you father,"  She retorted sliding the drawer open and retrieving the wand.

She placed it on the desk before Draco, who went very pale.

"What makes you think this is his wand?" the teen snapped.

"Oh, by the grace… I recognize it, Malfoy.  Your father used it when he was in school.  I have only to touch it to know who its owner is," she told him.  "And tell him, that provided he does nothing else foolhardy, he'll have nothing to fear from me."

Draco stared at her for a moment longer, then snatched the wand from the desk and started out of the room.

"And Mr. Malfoy," she stopped him as he reached for the doorknob.  "I would offer you the same advice."

Draco glared at her, and then left, slamming the door closed behind him.

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Author's Notes: Having trouble pronouncing some of the words?  Well here's a brief guide them.

1.   CIM is pronounced as if it were spelt Kim. (yes the computer can talk)

2.   Naah – the aah is the sound the doctor asks you to make when examining your throat.  3.   Cuo (koo)  rra (an r rolled with the tounge) Kiy (Ki)

4.   Tt is clicked with the tongue.  If you have ever watched Alien Nation this is the same click or 'tock' used in the Tanctonese language. (Don't feel bad, even I have trouble with this one)

5.   gruw is an r rolled in the throat.

Ozma:  Thanks for your continuing reviews.  They mean a lot to me!  Is Schön (pronounced Showen, and is a German name) more then a cat?  Well yes and no.  He is intelligent; in fact he's sentient, but he's still a cat at heart.  The relationship between Snape and Avonell is very complex, and has the potential of becoming even more so.  And I promise this will all play itself out as the story progresses.  Oh by the way, have your caught 'the move' yet?