Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
The words of Yeats' poem, 'The Second Coming' resounded through Severus' head as the revolving stairs lifted him to the Headmaster's office. Why this particular poem had come to his mind, he could not say, but the sense of foreboding that it gave him wrapped about him like an old winter cloak - familiar and heavy, almost oppressively so. He tried to shrug off the feeling as he knocked on the oaken door at the top of the stairs, but to no avail.
"Come in!" The muffled sound of Dumbledore's voice emerging from within the chambers irritated Severus. How could the man be so damn cheerful all the time? He opened the door and swept inside.
"Ah! Severus. What can I do for you, my boy?"
Hogwart's Master of Snark and Witty Retorts bit off the first reply that came to mind and opted for the diplomatic approach. After all, it was best to remind one's boss of his approaching? senility gently, rather than call him an old fool to his face. "You owled me, Headmaster. Have there been . . . developments?"
Albus nodded sagely, "Indeed there have, my boy. Please, sit down." Once Severus had seated himself and accepted a cup of tea, the Headmaster continued, "Less than a month ago I started receiving intelligence from an anonymous source amongst your former compatriots. Naturally, I was suspicious, but so far it has all been verified. The second to last report enabled us to save lives."
Severus cocked his head, "Who?"
"One of Alastor's nephews and his family. The man works for the Department of Mysteries. It is entirely possible that Tom is after the Prophecy."
Severus shook his head, "I'm still not entirely convinced. Without more solid evidence, it is still plausible that the Dark Lord is setting some kind of trap. Who for I don't know, most likely you, or possibly even me; not Potter though, it's the wrong approach. At the very least, we need to know who this informant is and what his motives are."
"Then it is fortunate that he revealed himself to me, this past week. I received another message from our new ally, asking to meet with me in a public muggle location. This was, I assume, so that neither he nor I would be seen and recognised by his comrades. I must say that muggles have a most unique idea of entertainment." Severus waited for Albus to elaborate on that last remark, but he did not, and later Severus decided that it would probably be best for his sanity if he didn't ponder it too long.
"It was in this establishment, that I found myself face to face with someone with whom I am sure you are acquainted: Mr Lyndon Avery."
Severus blinked, "Avery?!"
Dumbledore slowly nodded.
"Avery?" Severus said again, scarcely daring to believe it. "I . . . that doesn't make any sense. Avery was always one of the Dark Lord's most devoted followers. He really believed that Voldemort would grant him power in the new order. He once told me of his vision of hordes of muggle slaves obeying his every whim. Admittedly he was both drunk and high at the time but that's beside the point. The only reason he survived the Dark Lord's first fall was that he was, and undoubtedly still is a craven coward. I simply can't see him doing something as ballsy as this."
Albus spread his hands to communicate his lack of knowledge, "I do not know him well enough to say, Severus, I can only relate what he told me. Mr Avery said that since the Dark Lord's return, he has been treated poorly by his fellows, and by the Dark Lord himself. You and I both know that Tom dislikes failure, and someone must take the blame for the tardiness of his resurrection. And from what young Mr Potter told us last year, Tom was very displeased with Avery upon his return."
Severus shook his head, "I'm sorry, Headmaster, but I still find it hard to credit . Even poor treatment could not convince him to turn against everything he believes in."
"Nevertheless, we find ourselves in the position where we must trust the man. At our meeting, he informed me that the Dark Lord has decided to increase his followers. Come the Winter Solstice, he will be initiating new Death Eaters. Severus, he intends collect his new followers from among our students."
"What!?" Severus dropped his teacup in surprise. It shattered against the hard stone floor.
"Unfortunately Mr Avery feels that he is not sufficiently familiar with our student roster to identify all the initiates. He has suggested that I convince one of the teachers to go in his place, under the guise of polyjuice, as Avery. As such . . ."
"HA! I knew it. It's a trap!"
"As such, I require you to brew some of the potion, so that I can . . ."
"Forget it Albus! I will not let you do it. For one you don't know where the initiation is to be held, and two, even if you manage to get yourself there, as soon as you arrived you'd be dead, or captured. Faster than you could say Avada Kedavra. Tell Avery he can take his ambush and shove it up Voldemort's arse the next time he's kissing it."
Dumbledore's brows knitted in irritation, "If you would allow me to finish, Severus, you would learn that I have no intention of committing suicide, nor do I intend to send anyone else to their death, needlessly or otherwise. After we exact certain assurances from Mr Avery, Sirius Black shall . . ."
Shooting to his feet, "Black?! You must be joking, Headmaster! Despite the fact that he is unfamiliar with just about every student here, he wouldn't last ten minutes! Even if it weren't a trap! The first time he heard or saw something he didn't like, he'd be compelled to do something suitably stupid and Gryffindorish thus getting himself captured and killed. Not that I'd mind that last part all that much, but he knows every secret the Order has! It would be like handing your head to Voldemort on a silver platter!"
"And who would you suggest, Severus? Professor Flitwick perhaps? Or perhaps Sybil wouldn't mind swapping genders for a couple of hours. Please, Severus, Illuminate me." Apparently Severus wasn't the only one who had skill with sarcasm.
He drew himself up to his full height and faced the Headmaster with all the dignity he could muster. "There is only one logical choice, Albus. I will go. I am familiar with the students, with the ritual, with the behaviour of attendees, and most importantly have the least to lose."
Dumbledore closed his eyes and shook his head in disappointment. "The least to lose? My Dear Boy, you have already lost far too much. And I think that you have gained far more this year than you realise." The blue eyes opened, lacking their usual sparkle, but containing a determination that was rarely seen and feared by those who crossed him. "You have gained a second chance, you can finally build the life you have denied yourself all these years. I will not let you throw that away."
Severus ignored the warning and continued with his argument. "With all due respect, Headmaster, it is my life and therefore my decisio..."
"Not this time, Severus. I won't allow it. But you are right about one thing. Sirius was a poor choice for this assignment. Would Remus meet with your approval?"
Severus sank back into his chair and mulled it over. Finally he conceded, "At least he can control himself." He thought for a moment, "But there is one problem. This sort of affair usually runs for about ninety minutes. Polyjuice won't last that long, despite my best efforts to extend its usefulness. I don't think that the Dark Lord will appreciate one of his minions interrupting the occasion to take a quick swig."