As he stepped into the hall, Severus was greeted by Dumbledore, who gave him an odd look before touching his shoulder. "Is all well, my boy?"

Severus snorted softly. "Fine," he whispered. "Is everyone here?" The Headmaster nodded, and Severus scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Good," he replied. "Can we get on with it now?"

"Of course."

Severus moved to the front door, making sure he was well past the portrait of Sirius' mother before he nodded to Dumbledore. The Headmaster approached him, and produced a length of thick black velvet, which he tied tightly around Severus' eyes, securing it at his head. He arranged the blindfold carefully over Severus' face, and Severus was sure that there was something Dumbledore did to see if he would respond to it, but he could see nothing. In all honesty, Severus could not see a thing except velvety black.

He heard the kitchen door opening, the squeak of the hinge that set it apart from every other door in the house; there was something about being deprived of sight that made it easier to see certain things. Dumbledore's hands on his shoulders guided him into the kitchen, and led him to a chair, which he lowered himself into. The kitchen smelled of onions and tea; Molly was cooking dinner, and had made the tea, just as she had said she would. Someone's hands, soft, small hands, guided his own hands to a teacup. Tonks.

"You have just returned from a summons, Severus. Tell us what transpired." That was Dumbledore's voice, though it was distant and formal.

"We met in a field I did not recognize," he began. "There were seventeen present. Lucius was there, and Crabbe and Goyle, Macnair…" He listed the names of those who were easily known to be Death Eaters, but he did not mention those whom he did not think everyone knew of. That was part of what he did best—filtering information, giving enough to make it worth their while to listen, but seldom anything they did not already know or could not work out. Moody had been right about that.

"The Dark Lord spoke with each of us individually. He often does this, issuing private orders for us where no others can hear." Again, that was primarily the truth. The more he kept to the truth, the easier it was to remember the lies. Of course, the Dark Lord did that largely because he knew of Snape's position within the Order, and it gave him a handy reason not to tell everything he knew. "The one to my right, he was late, so his orders were to be on time next time. He was tortured with Cruciatus." He purposefully left out what he had heard from the one to his left.

"And what orders for you, Severus?" Dumbledore again, and Snape heard a scraping of wood against wood, then a waft of onion and carrot assaulted his nose. He heard a slight creak, and the smell of bread baking followed.

"The Dark Lord ogave me no orders, but offered instead a gift. A bloodbath, to be known as Snape's Massacre."

He heard an intake of breath around the table, and he was grateful for the blindfold; he did not think he could have said that if he were facing them.

"When? Where?" The rough voice belonged to Moody, and Snape could almost feel that magical eye of his delving past the blindfold.

Snape shook his head. "The dark of the moon," he replied. "I do not know where." A tricky lie, that one, because it was the truth, but he needed to pass off a lie as the truth and therefore the truth became a lie.

"What more can you tell us, Severus?" It was Dumbledore's voice that time.

He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "The Dark Lord expects more prompt responses to his summons. It was a brief meeting."

There were whispers and the scratching of quills against parchment, and Snape could hear additional whispers from outside the door, and he wondered if the other members of the Order honestly thought that the children did not listen in on these meetings. They made enough noise to raise the dead.

"The massacre," this time it was Arthur speaking. "Do you know who is to be targeted?"

Snape shook his head. "Mudbloods, I would think. Or Muggles. He did not say, only that we would feast." Again, he was grateful for the blindfold, but he felt his stomach lurch.

There was, apparently, nothing to be said to that pronouncement, and after a moment of silence, Dumbledore cleared his throat softly. "Well, thank you Severus, you have been of service."

"Service!" Moody snorted and Snape heard the clunking, uneven walk of the ex-Auror approaching him. "He tells us there is to be a bloodbath, but not where or who is to be attacked. We cannot keep watch over all of…"

"That is enough, Alastor. He has given us what he can."

There was a snort again, and Snape felt hot breath against his ear. "I could make him tell us more," Moody whispered. "I'd bet my last galleon on it."

"I said that is enough. Come, Severus." He felt a hand on his arm again, and he stood, and allowed himself to be guided out of the kitchen. They reached the hall, and Dumbledore removed the blindfold.

Severus relaxed marginally, blinking against the sudden flood of light that assaulted his eyes. "Thank god that is over with," he muttered softly.

Dumbledore placed a hand on his arm again. "Shall we go upstairs?"

Severus nodded, and allowed the Headmaster to lead the way to the second floor, and then through a closet door. The closet, as it happened, was large enough to accommodate a small table and two chairs, and, Dumbledore gestured at one of the chairs, whispering "Lumos," into the darkness. A lamp flickered on, and the older wizard settled himself.

"What else is there, Severus?"

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Snape sighed. "Too much to even know where to begin," he admitted.

"Then start at the beginning."

With a sigh, Snape folded his arms across his chest and leaned back. "Karakoff has been found, though I don't know where. I've little doubt he will be killed."

Dumbledore nodded. "Do you think we should make the effort to find him first?"

Snape snorted softly. "There is only one thing worse than a traitor, and that is a coward. Karakoff's loyalty is only to his own skin, and I've little faith he could be trusted by anyone. Though it is rather ironic that I should say that, isn't it?"

"You know that I trust you." Dumbledore placed a hand on his arm again, and, after a moment, Severus placed his hand over Dumbledore's.

"I know," he said softly. "Though by Merlin I don't know why." He leaned away again and cleared his throat. "I believe that it was Bagman to my left tonight," he continued.

"Ludo Bagman? Are you sure, Severus?" Dumbledore sounded as though he hoped there was no certainty and Snape shook his head.

"I'm never sure of anything, Albus, but I have every reason to believe it was him."

Dumbledore sighed. "And what was his task?"

"To procure some reports from the Ministry. I don't know which ones. It seems the Dark Lord had discussed this with him before, because he asked for an update on 'those papers'. He was not pleased that he didn't have them, but there was no punishment."

"Clearly it was someone in the Ministry, whoever he was. You're certain he was not Macnair?"

"Quite. Macnair was standing beside Lucius."

Dumbledore frowned. "What else?"

Snape stood and turned away from the Headmaster, looking at the wall. "I experienced some difficulty keeping my mind on task tonight, Headmaster. The Dark Lord noticed that immediately, and called me to task on it. He was in my head."

Albus frowned deeply. "And what did he see?"

Snape closed his eyes. "Aislinn," he whispered softly. "She is all that has been on my mind for months, really. He told me he would not share my heart. It is a blessing, I suppose, that she is already dead, because that was his order to me—to either bring her to his service or kill her. The massacre was meant to… cheer me up." He spat these last words bitterly, and leaned his head against the wall.

"Where is the massacre to be, Severus?"

With a bitter laugh, Snape whispered, "I was speaking the truth in there; I do not know. He told me to mislead you to believe that it would be at Stonehenge, so I presume that is the one place it will not be. He said we were to expect his summons at sunset at the dark of the moon." Snape turned around again, leaning his back against the wall now. Dumbledore was nodding.

"That is two weeks," Dumbledore said softly. "Perhaps we can make some arrangements."

"Just be sure to have people at Stonehenge," Snape said softly. "I need that story to pan out for him."

"Of course. Severus, can you think of any potions that would benefit from blood gathered at the new moon?"

Snape frowned for a moment, then shook his head. "Not off hand, but I will do a bit of research tonight and tomorrow."

"Excellent. Is there anything more?"

Taking a deep breath, Snape glanced at the door. "Are you sure we are private?" he asked softly, thinking about the students.

Dumbledore smiled a bit. "The extendable ears? No, Severus, not here. I have warded this closet against such tricks, though I must say that those two boys are geniuses."

Snape snorted softly. "Would that they'd put half the effort into the potions I assigned that they put into those trick candies of theirs." He sobered again. "I think perhaps Percy Weasley was one of the ones I could not identify tonight. I had reason to suspect it last time, but this time, I had more indication. Nothing I could explain, so don't even ask, just…" he shrugged. "They are a distinctive family."

Dumbledore let out a slow breath. "Severus, please, do not mention this to…"

"To anybody," Snape said firmly. "I don't want it to get back to Arthur or Molly unless I know for sure."

Dumbledore nodded, and then stepped forward. "You are a good man, Severus. I don't think you hear that often enough, and I wish I could reveal how much you help us."

Snape shrugged slightly. "I never thought I'd say it, but this is not something I do for the fame."

A slow smile touched Dumbledore's lips, creating a dimple. "I know," he said softly. "That is why you are such a good man." He pulled Severus into a quick embrace, and then stepped back. "Now, there is something more you are not telling me."

"What is that?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ronald Weasley has been going on about you crying…"

Severus snorted. "If he says it in my hearing, he will be in detention for a week," Severus said quietly.

"Is there anything you wish to talk about, Severus?"

"No," he replied bluntly.

Albus nodded. "Very well. But I will say this, my boy. I am relieved to hear it. I was beginning to fear that you would lock out the world until you forgot you were a part of it. Painful though it may be for you, emotion is one of the few things that can keep you sane just now."

"Then I am in no danger of losing my mind," Severus said softly. "I've little wish to discuss them, but believe me, my emotions are alive and strong."

"Good." Dumbledore opened the door, and gestured for Severus to preceed him, and the potions master headed downstairs.

Molly caught his arm. "Severus," she said, smiling broadly, "won't you stay for dinner tonight? We're having roast, and I made fresh rolls, and there is a chocolate pie chilling. Ronald told me you like chocolate."

"I…" he began, nearly turning down her invitation, but a glance beyond her shoulder showed Remus standing there, watching almost hopefully. Severus sighed inwardly. "I'd be honored, Mrs. Weasley."

Molly pinched his arm. "Molly. You know better than to start that Mrs. Weasley nonsense with me."

Dinner was an unnaturally quiet affair, with many an awkward glance in Severus' direction, and he was reminded why he never stayed. His presence was not, strictly speaking, welcome here, after all. The children were abnormally quiet and kept sneaking furtive glances at him; Ginny and Hermione had curiosity and sympathy in their eyes, Ron and Harry had something akin to fear, as though he were going to assign them all detentions. Fred and George were there, indistinguishable as ever, their heads bent together over something that Severus suspected was another prank. Molly was making her normal maternal comments, heaping more food onto Severus' plate every time he took a bite and clucking her tongue that he was too thin. Arthur was babbling about the Ministry, and Albus was encouraging it. Moody was scowling at him. Remus kept trying conversation, but Severus was too self conscious to really get involved in any of the light chatter. Bill was eyeing him with frank consideration, and Severus couldn't help wonder what the eldest Weasley was thinking. Laughter from the end of the table where the children were sitting suddenly drew Severus' eye, and he saw that Tonks was amusing the children with rapidly growing blue hair.

When dinner ended, Severus offered to help Molly clean up, but was shooed from the kitchen, though from the way her eyes were glowing, he could tell she was pleased he'd offered. "Go on," she told him. "I'll work faster by myself," she was already setting the spells in motion, and he nodded, slipping out of the door.

Someone caught his hand, and he whirled, finding himself facing a tall, red-haired, freckle-faced man with a pnytail and an earring. "A word, Professor?" he asked softly, and Severus frowned but nodded. Bill pointed towards the front parlor, which was still not precisely clean. Severus stepped inside, and a moment later, Dumbledore did as well.

"What is it, Bill?" asked the Headmaster, and Bill grinned.

"I was thinking at dinner, and, well, I have an idea."

"This should be entertaining," Severus said dryly, and his eyes swept the room, looking for a place to sit that was relatively clean. His eyes passed over the tapestry of the Black family, and for a moment, he couldn't help but study it, his eyes seeking out the connections. He found Lucius' name, connected to Narcissa's, and Draco beneath them. Bellatrix and Macnair were on there and…

"…put their skills to good use. I was thinking about what Se- Professor Snape was saying about the… erm, massacre…"

Severus suddenly held up a hand. "Enough, Weasley," he hissed suddenly, then raised his voice. "Do not endanger more lives," Snape glanced in the mirror above the fireplace, and noted that the door was open slightly. "I did not want to say anything in general company, Headmaster, but… can we move away from the window?" he asked suddenly, nodding towards the door. "Or better yet, to a different room?"

"Nonsense, Severus, this house is well protected, and no one can tell where it is except…" Severus held up a hand and shook his head, pleading silently with Dumbledore to display some of that infinite trust just now. The Headmaster nodded slowly. "Very well," he said.

Snape led them towards the cracked door, and then opened it, and looked up and down the hall. There was no one there. He left the door partially open so he could see if anyone approached. "I did not want to mention it in general company, Bill, because I don't know how many we can trust. But the Massacre will be at Stonehenge. Eight pm on the new moon."

There was a flicker of movement, and Snape flicked a finger at Bill, hoping he had sense enough to not do anything foolish. The red-haired man was nodding slightly. "Then I suppose that my idea would not be necessary, after all. I was only going to suggest that one of us try to pose as a follower of… You-know-who and…"

Snape snorted, and hoped desperately that that had not been the real suggestion. "Now, pleasant as this evening has been, I have work to do. If I may have use of the floo…?"

"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore was saying and ushered both him and Bill out of the parlor and towards the kitchen.

Once they were inside, Severus closed the door firmly then whispered, "Upstairs, there is more to discuss." Dumbledore nodded, and then put a hand on Bill's shoulder. Bill was looking bewildered, but was, mercifully, going along with the charade, and, after a few moments of waiting, Severus poked his head out of the kitchen and looked towards the front door again. His suspicions were confirmed, and, feeling something akin to smugness, he bolted out of the kitchen and careened up the stairs, hoping he'd been quick enough. He slid backwards into the room where he hoped Dumbledore and Bill were waiting in the closet, and breathed a sigh of relief as the door clicked shut behind him.

"What was all that about, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, looking perplexed. Bill was still looking at him oddly, and looking around the closet, and Snape wondered if the boy would be bright enough to make the connection.

"I believe, Headmaster, that I have found our leak," Snape said silkily, leaning against the door.

Dumbledore frowned. "Who?"