Stefan gathered his cloak close around him as he stepped into the swirling morning mist. He felt cold, and it wasn't just from the chill wind that whistled around him. The longer this mission went on the more dangerous it became and the more likely it was that Macnair and Malfoy would figure out why he was really here. It terrified him. P

Stefan couldn't help thinking that the heavy mist and the overcast sky as he approached the battered manor house made this seem almost like the setting of a bad muggle horror movie. And what he had seen happen within those musty walls would certainly fit into a horror scenario.

He shuddered as he pressed his hand against the rusty cold iron of the front gate, it creaked open slowly under his touch. He couldn't help thinking that the freezing metal beneath his hand was as cold and solid as Malfoy's heart, and just as merciless.

A hand clamped down on Stefan's shoulder in an unbreakable grip, which made him whip his head around to see his captor.

"You're a little jumpy this morning MacNeill," Walden Macnair sneered with a unreadable expression on his face.

"I just wasn't expecting anyone else to be here this early," Stefan recovered quickly, and it was partly true. Although his heightened state of fear came more from the man who was still holding his shoulder than anything else.

"Why don't we go inside," Macnair suggested, "our leader has a new plan for figuring out the information we need to know to bring back Voldemort."

"And what is that plan?"

Macnair smiled darkly, "we start experimenting.

"Have you seen my wife anywhere Lupin," Severus' tone was far from pleasant.

Remus shook his head, "no I haven't."

Severus' scowl darkened.

"What's the matter, lovers' quarrel?" Remus teased.

Severus chose not to respond to that. Morgan had been upset that morning when another pregnancy test had come up negative. She had taken out her frustration on him, and now Severus was regretting how short he had been with her when what she had really needed was his support.

Before either of the men could say anything Kalliope and Morgan came around the corner together. The two women had formed a fast friendship after the very short amount of time they had spent together and had spent most of the morning in conversation. Kalliope had been thoroughly amused when Morgan had described how Remus would flirt with her just to get Severus mad.

Kalliope had surprised herself by sharing with Morgan how she felt about Remus. The two women had an amazing conversation, with Morgan wanting to know the detail's of their relationship and encouraging Kalliope to continue her relationship with the werewolf.

"Morgan, we need to talk," Severus approached his wife a bit warily, not sure if she was still mad at him.

"We don't need to do anything Severus, I have a class to get ready for," Morgan snapped at him.

"Why don't we leave them alone for awhile," Remus suggested quietly as he led Kalliope aside, "and you can tell me a little bit more about this 'man without a face' that you have been watching."

Kalliope shrugged, "there's not much to tell. I know little about him except that his face has been severely damaged. I have seen him in only limited environments, usually in what appears to be an indoor forest and a couple times in a room of mirrors with a strange silver tree with a noose hanging from it."

Severus spun around when he overheard Kalliope's description. His eyes locked with Remus' and the two men shared a long look.

Remus looked shocked, "Do you think it's..."

Severus nodded, "Who else would have a mirror of rooms like that? It has to be Eric."

Kalliope looked confusedly between the two men, "who is this Eric?"

Severus frowned, "he is an absolute genius, a lunatic, but a genius. I'm going to see him tomorrow, he has information that we need."

"I'm going with you."

Severus looked down in shock at the Greek woman standing in front of him. The priestess had her hands on her hips and was looking up at him formidably, as though daring him to tell her no. "You most certainly will not be going with me," Severus shot back coldly.

"I will go with you, this is temple business, and is something that I must oversee."

"Kalliope," Remus ventured carefully, "why do you feel that it is necessary for you to go?"

Kalliope's hard gaze softened a bit as it came to rest on the werewolf, "Remus, I have been watching him in the visions for year and I knew that he was important, that he holds a great deal of information that is thought to be lost, but I had no clue as to who he was. It would appear that the goddess has led me here to people who can take me to him. It is imperative that I meet with him; he may have information that will help save my people. The tribes of Greece are disappearing; I must do everything in my power to save them."

"I can't take you Kalliope," Severus spoke down to her, "Eric's... home... is no place for a lady."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm not a lady, I'm a priestess," Kalliope replied curtly.

Dierna frowned at the letter in her hand. She had read it over and over again since she had received it that morning, but it still wasn't telling her what she wanted it to. She figured that if Stefan wasn't allowed to write her the least Viviane could do was give her more details about her boyfriend, even though she knew that the Ministry censored her sister's letters she could at least try. She sighed despondently; she longed to feel Stefan's arms around her again.

Nick reached over and plucked the letter out of her hand, he skimmed the contents and shot a sideways glance at Dierna, "so, are you going to be in a bad mood all day just because your sister didn't give you any news about Stefan?"

"It's not funny Nick," Dierna shoved herself away from the table and made her way out of the Great Hall.

Nick cursed himself under his breath; he hadn't meant to upset her like that. He absently wondered if he had picked a bad time of month to tease her, that tended to be one of the drawbacks of having girls for best friends. He ran after her and caught her in the hallway, he grabbed her arm, "Dierna, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Are you ok?"

Dierna tried to wrench her arm out of Nick's grasp, "just leave me alone right now."

"I will not leave you alone when you're this upset," Nick loosened his grip on her arm and pulled her into a tight hug. "Never give up sweetie, Stefan loved you too much to ever abandon you. He will come back to you yet, don't give up hope."

Stefan felt as though he was almost ready to give up. The situation seemed hopeless. He averted his eyes from the ghastly scene before him. Macnair was holding a muggle girl with her arms pinned behind her back, a knife pressed to her throat. Stefan guessed that she couldn't be more than 18 years old, but Macnair had found her living on the streets of muggle London, attempting to sell her body. He knew that no one would miss her if she disappeared.

Draco stood in front of the girl and took her chin roughly in his hand, "such a pretty little thing, it's a pity you're more use to us dead than alive, otherwise I might keep you around a little longer." He pressed his mouth over hers and kissed her with bruising strength, as he pulled away to observe his handiwork he was pleased to note that her mouth was already starting to swell from the roughness of his touch. "On the other hand, I doubt you have the kind of talent that I am used to."

Macnair grinned maliciously, "Shall we do it then?"

Draco waved a hand a Macnair's direction as he swept out of the room, "go ahead, we know that the spell required to bring back Voldemort will require a human sacrifice, we might as well just try till we get it right."

Macnair tightened the grip on the knife in his grasp and led the girl out of the room. Stefan dropped his head and was sure that he was going to be sick.

Severus was still trying to figure out how he had let himself be talked into taking that damnable priestess with him to Paris. He had loudly declared that if Eric laid a hand on her he wouldn't be held responsible. But not even the threat of Eric had been enough to deter Kalliope, she insisted on going. He glanced into the mirror in front of him so that he could see his wife who was sitting behind him; he wasn't sure how well she liked this situation.

Morgan was perched on the claw footed bench that matched her vanity in her and Severus' bathroom. She watched her husband get ready for bed with ill concealed impatience. She desperately wanted to talk to him, but wanted to wait until he noticed her.

Severus left the bathroom without giving his wife a glance, she stood up and trailed after him, her hands clasped behind her back. Morgan couldn't tell if he was ignoring her, or merely lost in thought. She smiled when he sat on the edge of the bed and reached out for her, pulling her to stand between his legs.

"Are you mad at me darling?" Severus murmured into his wife's soft hair.

"Why would I be mad at you?" Morgan pushed away from her husband slightly so that she could look him in the face.

"Because I'm taking the priestess to Paris with me."

Morgan shrugged, "I trust you Sev, I have no reason to worry or be mad at you."

"Then why have you been sulking around here, following me around all evening?" Severus pulled his wife against him; he loved the way her soft, warm, little body felt in his arms.

Morgan blushed, and was glad that her face was buried in her husband's shoulder so that he couldn't see it. His favorite sport was trying to make her blush; it amused him to no end, especially since his efforts usually worked. "I felt bad about being such a brat this morning to you. I shouldn't have taken out my frustration on you."

Severus chuckled softly as he lay back on the bed, pulling his wife down with him, "I was afraid I had upset you, I'm glad that you aren't mad at me."

Morgan smiled mischievously, "Oh don't worry Sev darling, I'll make sure you know if I'm really mad at you."

Severus shook his head, "you little imp..." he pulled her down and kissed her until it was all Morgan could do to lay sprawled across her husband's chest breathing heavily.

"I take it you enjoyed that," she tried to frown at him and failed miserably.

"Probably not nearly as much as you did judging from the way you're blushing Mrs. Snape."

Morgan's face only flamed brighter at that observation, causing her husband to laugh as he rolled over, pinning his wife to the mattress beneath him, "I love you."

Kalliope bent over the silver mirror that she had laid on the floor. It wasn't quite as powerful as the bronze basin she used for calling visions in the temple, but it worked well enough.

She sprinkled water over the mirror, and then waved her hand over it, "show me Rheia," she commanded in the low, authoritative tone of a priestess.

Rheia's face appeared before her, and Kalliope knew that the old priestess could see her as well, "what is it that you want child," Rheia asked, through the connection made by the visions.

"I go tomorrow to seek out the faceless man, the one I have described to you."

Rheia nodded, "I have seen that you will meet him, but be wary, for he is dangerous. Now tell me of the girl you are to train."

"She is powerful; Avalon would have great use for her. The Lady Sianna is not yet old, but she has yet to name an heir, perhaps the girl should be sent there."

"No! The girl must not go to Avalon."

Kalliope frowned, "but she is of their line, they might be able to give her the training she deserves..."

"No!" Rheia's face grew angry, "if she is as powerful as that then she must be kept for us, we have need of her power."

"This child is special, I don't want to see her get hurt," Kalliope didn't want to cross the old priestess, but she wasn't sure if this was the best course of action.

The image of Rheia in the mirror sighed, "Child, you know better than any other that sometimes we must hurt those we are closest to in order to promote the good of the whole. I do not wish for any harm to come to the child but our ways are dying out. I have sworn to protect the old ways, and I will do whatever is necessary to make sure that they continue."

"I understand mother."

"Good, now do everything in your power to make sure that the girl remains loyal to our side, it is imperative."

"I will try my best."

Rheia frowned, "make sure that your best is good enough child, we need all the help we can get to ensure that our ways do not die out."