Secret Keeper, Re-post Edition

Chapter Five

October 28, 1981

Sirius' next two days at number six Chester Lane were anything but eventful. If anything, he felt that the boredom was driving him to the edge of insanity. Pity he couldn't just leap off that edge... but with the important task that he had been entrusted with, it would probably be better if he remained sane. Or at least relatively sane.

Was I ever really sane in the first place? he mused as he sat at the kitchen table, deeply involved in his third game of solitary chess for the day. Probably not.

Sirius chuckled quietly to himself as he scrutinized the chessboard in front of him with careful eyes. He was playing the white pieces now... and his king, while not in check, was in dire danger of being cornered and forced into checkmate (which was actually a result of the last move he himself had made with the black pieces). He drummed his fingers on the mahogany table pensively, his face screwed up in a contemplative expression as he pondered his plight.

He scowled slightly as he shook his bangs out of his face (they were short and spindly, as he had not bothered to re-gel his hair) and propped his elbows onto the table so that he could lean forward to examine the situation that his chessmen were in. He could move the queen to protect the king... but that would leave his bishop to be taken, a move he didn't want to make just yet. Being the mastermind behind both sides of the game, he knew which moves he could or could not make if he was to keep the white king safe. The only problem was that since he had developed playing strategies for both the black and white pieces, he knew how the black pieces would counter to any move the white pieces would make... therefore causing him to keep adjusting his decision accordingly. If he moved the white bishop to one spot, he knew that the next move he made would be to move the black queen to another spot, which meant that he would have to play the white knight in that position, which meant-

Goddamn it. Sirius slammed his fist onto the kitchen table in frustration, startling several of the chess pieces and causing them to jump up from their positions, hissing with surprise and protesting adamantly about the 'violent' treatment. He was stuck; he was trapped in the cycle of his own thought processes. He couldn't decide where to move – because no matter which piece he played, he knew what the strategic response would be, and – unable to ignore this knowledge – he would change his mind and decide to move the piece elsewhere... which would begin the process all over again. Sirius scowled as he finally conceded to himself the inevitable – solitary chess was bloody useless. The first game had been amusing in its own odd way, the second game had been a means to pass the time, but now, for the third time that day, Sirius was in the midst of an intense chess-battle against himself... and that's when the futility of his situation finally hit him.

I really am a wreck, he observed, running a hand through his hair in an extremely James-like fashion. I'm trying to beat myself at chess... that's bloody ridiculous. How do you beat yourself at something? he wondered. If hypothetically you were to defeat yourself, you would be both the loser and the winner, which would be impossible because losing and winning were opposite conditions that could not co-exist in one person... unless you were really two people... which was not possible because the mind that was controlling the moves of the chess pieces shared the thoughts and strategies of each side of the board... Sirius' mind was beginning to whirl as his brain spun around in the cycle of possibilities, a logical paradox that kept circling around itself, the sense and reason in it just visible but somehow unable to be grasped...

In a spontaneous release of unexplainable tension, Sirius reached up with his right arm and violently knocked all the chess pieces onto the floor, each one falling to the cold tile with a clanking noise and a loud shriek.

Snape watched carefully from afar as two Death Eaters kneeled reverently in front of the Dark Lord.

"My Lord," he heard one of them murmur, though he was unable to recognize the voice.

Undoubtedly one of the Dark Lord's spies, he thought bitterly to himself. Probably some imbecile Ministry worker.

The other Death Eater, the one whom had not yet spoken, kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.

"Master," he whispered, his voice respectful, yet too quiet to be clearly heard from the distance from which the watchful Snape stood.

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the two men who were now speaking in hushed whispers to their master. Snape did not recognize either of them; undoubtedly, they were spies working undercover for the Dark Lord, spies whose identities the Dark Lord did not trust to be revealed to anybody save the Death Eaters in his inner circle... of which Snape was definitely not part of. True, he had not done anything to merit the Dark Lord's distrust, but he had not shown any spectacular indication of unwavering loyalty either. He had made considerable progress within the ranks of the Death Eaters for one his age (he had only graduated from Hogwarts a little over three years ago), but his status was not considered high enough for him to be in on all the 'inside info'... which meant, unfortunately, that the Dark Lord did not leave him with an inkling of a clue as to who the spies were – meaning that Snape would have to piece together the evidence himself.

He warily glanced over the second Death Eater, the one who had kissed the Dark Lord's robes. The face, hair-color, and other distinguishing features could not be noticed through the mask the man wore, but Snape noticed that the Death Eater's body was fairly well-built, and he was rather taller than average... could this be Sirius Black? The man's physique was similar to Black's – tall, fit, lean – but yet... somehow, Snape could not imagine the infamous Sirius Black kissing the hem of anyone's robes, let alone the Dark Lord's.

But that's hardly any evidence to say that it isn't Black, he reminded himself, scowling. Who knows what the stupid idiot's really up to?

Snape frowned slightly, trying to erase from his face the pensive expression that he knew must be there as his gaze washed over the other Death Eater, the one who had spoken first, who was standing further away from him and was therefore harder to make out. The man was partially hidden from Snape's view by the second Death Eater, but from what Snape could see, the man was short, his height maybe reaching about a head under that of his companion. A runt, he noted sourly. Observations on the man's physical attributes were hard, if not impossible, to make, but Snape could tell, even from the distance, that this man did not have the lean body-build of the first, nor did he have the same confidence in his stance and straightness in his posture that the other Death Eater had. Snape stared critically at this shorter man for a few moments before conceding that this man, too, was unrecognizable to him... damn it.

He finally ceased his study of the two Death Eaters and strained his ears in an attempt to gather some of the conversation. He was rather too far away from the Dark Lord to hear clearly and did not want to risk moving closer, lest the Dark Lord be suspicious of his intentions, but he found that if he pulled together all of his concentration and tried to block out all other background noises, he could hear the whispers of the two Death Eaters, and even pick up a few words or phrases, although he couldn't establish who it was who was saying what...

"Yes, m-making progress... promised to tell me... will report to you..."

"... think some Aurors might be getting suspicious..."

"... haven't had any contact... d-don't know..."

"... already set up the network... I've got men regulating Apparition and the Floo... no sign of him..."

So one of them is definitely a Ministry employee, a fairly high-ranking one... and they're apparently trying to track someone's movements, if they're looking into the Apparition records and patrolling the Floo network... He made a mental note to remember this.

"I see." Snape could clearly hear the frown in what he recognized to be the Dark Lord's voice, quiet though it was. "So we've got no leads?"

"No... definitely getting t-there, my Lord... as soon as possible..."

Snape watched as the Dark Lord nodded curtly in response to whatever the Death Eater had said.

"Very well," the red-eyed man said, staring down at the two servants, who were still kneeling at his feet. "You may go."

And, much to Snape's disappointment, the two Death Eater spies Apparated away. He had gotten information, he had heard news that would be potentially valuable to Dumbledore... but would it be enough? He bitterly wished that he had been able to hear more, to stand closer, or that the spies had stayed a while longer so that he could listen to more of their conversation... and possibly identify who they were...

But it had not been a day wasted, Snape conceded grudgingly, straightening out his robes as he tried to avoid eye contact with the Dark Lord or any of the other Death Eaters. He would have something to report back to Dumbledore... that there was definitely a Death Eater who held a position of power at the Ministry, and who was using the power and influence to help the Dark Lord hunt someone down, maybe Potter...

Snape stepped into a shadowy corner of the room and Apparated just south of the Forbidden Forest, making his to the school and up to the headmaster's office.

Life at Godric's Hollow seemed to have reached standstill for the Potters, the time of two days moving at a truly snail-worthy pace as each passing minute built upon their anxiety and tension, stretching their nerves to the point where they found themselves pacing the halls of their house, lost in meditative thought, not doing anything productive, letting hours go to waste... Lily and James tried desperately to distract themselves from the dreadful unease and disquiet that seemed to permeate through the entire household, but their efforts were futile – they would try to force conversation, would attempt to talk out some of their innermost fears, but the words would somehow become more and more awkward, and gradually, their voices would fade into nothingness, a nothingness so silent that it deafened both James and Lily with its soundless scream. It was a horrible sensation, the apprehension weighing so heavily upon their shoulders that it was destroying their relationship, their confidence in each other. It was as though a wall had been erected between them, barricading them within themselves, preventing their searching hands from seeking each other out and finding comfort.

In short, life at Godric's Hollow was absolutely miserable.

Lily shifted restlessly in her sitting position on her living room couch as she stared despondently into space.

"Hey."

She felt herself coming back to her senses as her husband placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, glancing deeply into her eyes with an expression of concern. She attempted a shaky smile as she rested her own pale hand on top of his, noticing how warm it was compared to hers.

"Are you feeling all right?" James asked, his hazel eyes shining with worry.

She nodded glumly, if only out of instinct. Why did people ask that question? What answer did they expect to receive? Anyone who was ever asked if they were feeling 'all right' always responded affirmatively anyways, just as she had. But it wasn't true. Lily had lied. Of course she wasn't feeling all right? How could she be? One of the most feared wizards in all the world was trying to kill everyone she loved – and because she needed to protect herself and her family, she was putting one of her closest friends at risk as well, endangering him with something far worse than death. The gloomy misery that had descended upon her like a smothering veil was suffocating, causing her to feel short of breath... a fist in her stomach... and iron hand clutching her heart – the pain that was physical and at the same time, emotional, real and at the same time, unreal. Her life made absolutely no sense... her world seemed so – wrong.

"Yeah, there's nothing wrong with me, James," she lied, giving a small sigh as her husband sat down beside her. "Just a horrid combination of nerves, paranoia, and boredom." Well, at least that last part was true.

James did not smile at her feeble attempt at a joke.

"You're sure?" he asked dubiously, removing the hand from her shoulder and tenderly reaching up to stroke her hair. "You can tell me if there's something on your mind, you know."

"Oh, it's just me, James," she said, trying to forcibly add a touch of brevity to her downtrodden voice. "Always gotta be worrying about something, you know..."

"Yeah, I know," James responded heavily, fidgeting slightly uneasily as he adjusted his seat on the couch. "I just don't like to see you this... depressed, Lily."

"I don't think I'm all that depressed, James," Lily replied carefully, grasping her husband's hand tightly in her own. "Really, there shouldn't be anything for me to be anxious about... I think that it's just the boredom that's getting to me. There's nothing to do."

James nodded his agreement. "I understand... I just wish we could go outside!"

Lily chewed her lower lip contemplatively. "Hmm... technically, the front and back yard are part of the house, right? So we should still be protected if we go there..."

The expression that crossed James' features was one of apprehension.

"I don't know, Lily," he said slowly, his words drawn out with caution. "You might be right... but I don't think we should take that risk. It might even interfere with the working of the charm."

"I supposed you're right," the red-haired woman admitted. "But I just wish there was something we could do!" Lily burst out, her voice passionate with frustration. "I feel so useless, just sitting here, doing nothing! If we're going to stay cooped up in our house all day we might as well entertain ourselves, for God's sake!"

"Well, what do you suggest you do?" James asked dully, kicking the leg of the coffee table with his right foot.

Lily scowled fiercely. "I don't know! Anything, as long as it's better than this." She paused slightly, feeling slightly guilty for taking her anger out on her husband, who had to be suffering just as much, if not more. "Did you give the address parchment to Dumbledore? Can Remus and Peter visit us?"

James nodded, running his free hand through the back of his hair in a manner reminiscent of his school days. "Sent it over to Hogwarts yesterday. Dumbledore contacted Wormtail and Moony for us; they're coming here for dinner the day after tomorrow."

Lily sighed, her back hitting the cushion of the couch as she relaxed and slumped back in her seat.

"Good," she said firmly, propping her feet on the small table. "Though I'm not sure I can wait two nights," she commented wryly. "I think I now know what people mean when they say they're dying of boredom."

"Well, now you know why me and Sirius always slept during History of Magic," James teased her, smirking slightly as he recalled the lectures that Lily used to give him about not paying attention in class.

"I know that you slept in History of Magic because you felt you were too superior to actually have to listen to your teachers," Lily retorted playfully, alluding to some of the accusations she had once made against him for being 'big-headed' and 'an arrogant, bullying toe-rag'. "And Sirius slept because he knew he could – I don't think there was one class he actually stayed awake in, but somehow he managed to pass all of them. Lucky prat," she added with a smile.

James grinned at the fond memory. "Not as lucky as I am," he said warmly, kissing his wife on the cheek.

"Oh really?" Lily queried with feigned ignorance. "Pray tell your reasoning for that statement, Mr. Potter."

"I'm luckier than Sirius will ever be because I have you," James informed her. "And that you agreed to become Mrs. Potter."

Lily rested her head on James' shoulder, obviously pleased with her husband's response.

"Hmm," she said, feeling some of the tension leaving her as she sat with her husband and shared a light-hearted moment. "Well, you certainly are a lucky man, aren't you? You found someone willing to deal with the stuck-up, arrogant likes of you."

James gave her a look of mock indignation. "Is it really that hard to be my wife?" he asked, trying – and failing – to sound terribly hurt. "Am I really that insufferable?"

"Yes, it is and you are," Lily said with an air of haughty condescension, sticking her nose into the air in an exaggerated gesture. "You and all of your little gang of school friends. You should consider yourself quite fortunate that the wonderful Mrs. Potter – meaning myself – is ever-so kind and patient enough to put up with you – after all, I highly doubt that there's going to be a Mrs. Black any time soon."

James snickered at the idea of Sirius getting married. "What an... interesting prospect," he remarked, holding back the wild laughter that threatened to escape him. "If Sirius knew the meaning of the word 'commitment', it might even be a remote possibility... with added emphasis on the word 'remote'," he commented jokingly.

"Definitely very remote," Lily agreed as her husband draped his arm around her shoulders. "I don't know about you, but I don't think anyone would want to marry a man who yodels in the shower and wears rubber ducky knickers."

James grinned at the mention of some of his friend's stranger habits. "How about me?" he asked, smiling. "Who do you think would want to marry a big-headed, arrogant, toe-rag of a Quidditch player?"

Lily kissed her husband lightly on the tip of his nose.

"Me," she replied simply. "I would."

Somehow, in the midst of the playful banter they exchanged, they found that the atmosphere of gloominess and tension had lifted, and the screaming silence and dissipated along with it, leaving a peaceful contentment in its wake.

Trying to remain hidden by the shadows of the tall trees that dotted his path, Snape trudged slowly up to the school, his normally immaculate robes splattered with dirt and grime. Taking pains to remain carefully inconspicuous, he stepped through the large doorway of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and tread slowly down the adjourning hallway. His soiled shoes left wet, muddy footprints on the clean marble floor, great offending splotches that normally would have irked his refined sense of cleanliness and order, but now he did not notice – and even if he had, it was very much doubtful that he would have cared at all. He continued his stiff, steady walk through the school, his gait uneasy and awkward and his pace slow as he approached the stone gargoyle that he knew to signify the entrance to Albus Dumbledore's office.

Speaking just loudly enough for the gargoyle to hear him and just softly enough not to be heard by anyone else, Snape whispered the password to the headmaster's office, his dark eyes darting back and forth as he attempted to avoid the notice of passers-by in the halls. Thankfully, he had arrived at a sufficiently late hour when most of the students had retired to their common rooms; the amount of people walking through that particular hallway was fairly scarce, and so Snape avoided the scrutiny of unwanted eyes as he stepped into Dumbledore's office and onto the spiral staircase that was revealed as the gargoyle turned.

The old silver-haired man sitting at the desk looked up as Snape approached. If he was at all surprised at the arrival of the newcomer at such an unusual hour, he did not show it.

"Severus," he said in greeting, "please, take a seat." He gestured towards one of the comfortable looking armchairs that faced his desk.

Snape lowered himself into the chair, his expression stony and his movements deliberate as he sat down across from the headmaster. Not waiting for the older man to acknowledge him again or request that he speak, he began to describe to Dumbledore the conversation that he had witnessed between the Dark Lord and his two spy Death Eaters, and also to attempt to create an adequate portrayal of the men's physical attributes.

"One of the men was short, of rather stout stature," he said quietly, keeping his tone impassive and generally expressionless. "I could not examine him more closely, as his form was hidden behind that of the other man, who was rather taller and of a more athletic build."

Dumbledore, who had remained silent throughout the entirety of Snape's narrative, now began to speak.

"Well... I don't suppose that the description you've given me is sufficient enough to identify either man... you have no guesses as to who they are?"

Snape's upper lip curled slightly.

"I have no theory as to who the former of the two men might be. The second man's features I could not make out, but his physique was not unlike that of Sirius Black – the same arrogant stance, the straight-backed posture..."

Apprehensive wrinkles formed on the corners of the headmaster's mouth.

"Are your remarks the hypotheses of objective examination," Dumbledore asked quietly, "or are you allowing childhood prejudices to distort your observations subjectively?"

Snape felt the characteristic sneer crossing his own face as the implication of the headmaster's words sank in. The headmaster's statement was buffered by politeness and grandiose words, but the accusation was still as piercing as ever.

Figures, he thought to himself with disgust, the man doesn't think that his perfect Gryffindors could ever do such a thing... so much for instructor impartiality.

The younger man's antipathy must have arranged itself into his facial features, because Dumbledore looked at him with a somber but slightly amused look and said, "Severus, do not mistake my meaning. I was only wondering, if the situation were to be looked at from a purely objective standpoint, how much of chance there is that this second man you speak of actually is Sirius Black."

Damn the man. And damn Black, too, while I'm at it.

Snape felt his scowl deepen, his discomfiture no doubt increased by his loathing to admit that he might be wrong.

"I don't know," he snapped, feeling incredibly small as the words escaped his chapped lips. "The resemblance in the physical form is certainly there, but I could not establish any of the man's facial features under the mask and the voice was far too quiet to be distinguished." Personally, he thought there was as much chance of Black being the second Death Eater as any other man, but he would not admit this to Dumbledore.

"I see," Professor Dumbledore said, after a slight pause in which he was no doubt calculating the worth of Snape's statement. Another moment of lingering silence. "So this is one more matter in which I will have to investigate... very well, Severus – have you any idea why Voldemort is paying particular attention to the comings and goings through the Floo Network and by means of Apparition?"

Snape stiffened, trying not to show any qualms about hearing the Dark Lord's name spoken aloud. "The way the statement was made sounded as if the Dark Lord was trying to track the movements of a particular individual, whom I do not know. All I am aware of is that he has a network of well-placed spies within the Ministry of Magic itself, and is using them to keep track of all Floo trips and Apparitions to and from England."

"Hmm. I see..." A pensive look had drawn itself across Dumbledore's face, and the comprehensive look in the old man's eyes plainly told that he had formed some sort of a conclusion from the information given him, but whatever thought had crossed the headmaster's mind, he did not share with Snape.

"How interesting," was all he said before pushing up his half-moon spectacles and fiddling slightly with the eagle-feather quill in his left hand. "Well, Severus, that is quite enough for tonight. Again, I must thank you for the effort you have made on the Order's behalf to obtain this information."

Snape lowered his head in a gesture of respect. He felt an irritating curiosity as to what Dumbledore had made of the given information, but did not allow his inquisitiveness to surface. He merely nodded slightly, uttered a quick 'my pleasure' (as if), and stood up abruptly, brushing off his robes as he did so.

Dumbledore, too, began to stand upon seeing his formal pupil about to make an exit.

"No need," Snape said curtly, walking towards the door with purposeful strides. "I shall see myself out, Headmaster."

*

Author's Note

Hmm... this chapter does seem to be a lot more satisfactory than the last one... the Snape thing was so hard to write, though! The only time I can do a good Snape-characterization is when I'm writing dialogue for him... I can't write from his point-of-view because he is a such a complex and introverted person. Not that the other characters aren't just as complex, but I've always found Snape harder to understand. It seems he always tries to hide his true emotions under that cold exterior. Basically, I think he's a good person (working for Dumbledore), but has lots of, er, attitude problems (his attitude towards Harry), which make his thoughts very difficult to guess and put into writing. His dialogue is easy – he's always condescending and cold, but can be grudgingly respectful if needed. But, unfortunately for me, there was no Snape-dialogue in the first little Snape scene I included in this chapter and very little in the second... why can't I just be smart for once and play to my strengths?! Grr... I'm an idiot.

The Lily/James thing... not really a heart to heart, I know – more like a droning, meaningless conversation that's here only for the purpose of informing the readers that Lupin and Peter will indeed be dropping in for dinner on October 30, 1981... what happens then, you'll just have to see (insert really evil cackle here). I hope I kept Lily and James reasonably in character... I kind of had to speculate on their personalities based on what I read in OotP... I was rereading the portion of their dialogue and thinking I might have reversed their personalities a little, making Lily too fretful and James too calm, but I was thinking that Lily would be just as frustrated as James with being forced into house-arrest, only she would have a harder time hiding her emotions. I also wanted James to be her pillar of support – I always imagined him to be a strong person, someone who can hold their own and remain calm and rational. Also, don't forget that Lily's a redhead – I wanted to give her some of the characteristic redhead impatience and passion. I probably screwed that up big-time, but oh well...

Sirius and his solitary chess games... what can I say? He needed to do something characteristically eccentric, unique, and idiotic – what better than a mental battle with yourself? I thought that this would be suitable for him. Out of all the characters in this story, Sirius is definitely the easiest to write, with James a somewhat distant second. Not only is he my favorite character, he's probably also the character I have the most in common with, as well as the one (out of the ones in this story) whose personality is most well-defined by J.K. Rowling, which makes him a bit less of a challenge. Also, the advantage of writing about Sirius is that as a character, he is extremely versatile – you can alter his personality slightly to your taste and still make it plausible, making him a very valuable tool for fan-fiction writers. Plus, he is reputedly very, very hot... =)

To Chocolate Taco – is this chapter long enough to be remotely satisfying? I tried! And, to answer your question, I need to do homework to get into college... and to avoid a ranting, raving mad mother! James gets an eight on the scale, huh? Well, I guess everything's headed in the right direction, for your tastes anyways...

To Ronja – as I said to Chocolate Taco, if that's how you feel about James, the far-off-in-the-distance future chapters should be quite suited to your preferences... =) Thanks for the feedback.

To Sailor Sol – yes, you certainly can wish all you want... but the fact remains that while I already know how this story will end, I have yet to decide whether or not Sirius will actually live it through... and I am laughing my a _ _ off at the expressions that must be on the faces of all the Sirius-fans who read this... can we spell 'evil'? However, evil though I may be, I am actually quite serious [Sirius =)] about this – it's a subject I've been debating with myself over for quite a while. To kill Sirius or not to kill Sirius, that is the question... but don't worry, I won't pull a J.K. Rowling. If I do murder Sirius, he'll have a very angst-worthy death.

To Anne-Evans89 – you hate Wormtail now? Lol, I hate him all the time, and wait until you see what happens in the later chapters! And I have to agree with you, it is really sad reading about Lily, James, and Sirius – Sirius especially, knowing what he has to go through and how much he suffers and is changed... but then again, that could just be more Sirius-bias on my part... =)

To gudrina – to clarify, this is actually the re-done version of the story (hence the name Re-post Edition). The original version of this story is much more lacking in quality... glad you like this, though!

Oh yeah... some of you might've noticed that I changed the summary for this story... I thought it captured the tone and mood of the story more effectively and accurately... what do you all think?

*

"[This] piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents ... This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family." – Sirius Black, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Scholastic Edition, pg. 375