Severus' lips curled into a sneer. "I don't know why none of us realized it before, considering we have so often used the same principle to find information. How many times have you sent Phineas Nigellus to his portrait here to relay a message?" Dumbledore's face was beginning to blossom with understanding, but Bill still looked confused, so Severus spelled it out. "The Blacks and Malfoys are related by marriage. It would not surprise me to find that a portrait of Mrs. Black hangs in the Malfoy Manor somewhere. In fact, knowing the Malfoys, it would surprise me if there was not one there somewhere."

Bill made a face and leaned against the back wall of the closet, his knee bent, foot against the wall. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "She's been here all this time, like a sentry, watching who comes and goes…"

"…all the conversations in the hall…"

"…all the ones in the front parlor…"

"…shouting matches in the kitchen…"

"…not to mention your two brothers and their bloody 'Extendable Ears'." This was Severus and he scowled in Bill's direction. Bill shrugged slightly, as though dismissing Fred and George as his responsibility.

"We will have to find a way to get rid of that portrait. I will make it a priority." This was Dumbledore, who was shaking his head. "And you are right, Severus, we have all been idiots not to see that."

"I never would have thought of it had we not been standing in front of that tapestry. Of course Narcissa has a portrait of her mother and aunt. It is unthinkable that she does not."

"So, the Malfoys know where we are?" Bill spoke again, and a bit of worry tinged his voice. Severus realized suddenly that he was still very young. It was easy to judge others by his own life experiences, and by the time Severus was Bill's age, he'd been a Death Eater, a murderer, a rapist, a spy for the original Order of the Phoenix, had been tried for his crimes and narrowly missed a lengthy sentence in Azkaban and had settled into a job as Potions teacher at Hogwarts. But that was not a normal life for a twenty-five year old young man.

"She couldn't have told them, not specifically," Albus was saying. "Even a portrait cannot reveal the location of a place protected with a fidelius charm."

"But Lucius, at least, is not stupid. If he is getting information from the portrait image of Mrs Black… it isn't a far jump to suppose where the headquarters is located."

"Does it matter if they know where we are?" This was Bill again, and it was an innocent enough question, but one that made Severus stop. He was getting so worked up over knowing who the leak was that he hadn't really considered how dangerous a leak Mrs. Black could really be. He looked to Albus, who shook his head.

"No. It does not matter if they know where we are, unless I reveal that information, they cannot come here. Our members are in no immediate danger from her, but our efforts are likely being thwarted by her."

Severus sighed. "Can't you just slice her off the wall?"

Albus shook his head again. "We already tried that."

Bill shrugged. "I'll have a look at her tomorrow morning," he offered, and, when the two older wizards looked at him with twin expressions of doubt that he could accomplish what none of the others could, the red-head grinned. "It's my job, you know. Breaking curses. And if I can break a curse on an Egyptian tomb, surely I can get a damn painting off the wall."

Severus nodded. "Won't hurt to try, at least. And I'll see if there isn't something in my stores to dissolve the paint if nothing else."

Dumbledore waved a hand. "We'll all just have to be careful what we say downstairs," he said. "We cannot change the past, but we can keep from making the same mistake again in the future. Now, Bill, let's get back to your idea about the massacre."

Bill frowned. "But I thought you said you know…"

Severus waved a hand dismissively. "Forget what I said, Mr. Weasley, and answer the Headmaster's question."

"You know," he said coolly, "I'm not your student anymore, Severus, and even if I were, your attitude is lacking. Give it a rest, will you?"

Severus' eyes widened, but Albus was holding up a hand again, waylaying argument. "Enough. Both of you. Bill, I want to hear your idea, and you, Severus, can hold your criticism until he has finished speaking."

Crossing his arms across his chest, Severus scowled, but kept his mouth pointedly shut as Bill began speaking. "Fred and George," he said simply. "Have you seen some of their pranks? They have more ability to figure out how to get what they want than… Just last week they managed to charm their beds to look like they were sleeping in them, to cover while they sneaked off to Merlin-knows where to do God knows what. I don't even want to know what they were doing, but the point is…"

"The point is you think we can trick the Dark Lord into believing that there are people where there are none?" Severus forgot that he was being quiet. "Your brothers' pranks, while amusing, are no match for the power of…"

"That isn't what I was saying at all. Look, I know they look like kids, and they are. They barely have their Apparating licenses. But they're very good at figuring things out, and…" Bill took a deep breath. "There's little that goes on that they don't find out about anyway. Why not bring them into the Order officially? Maybe they can come up with a way for Severus to alert the rest of us where the massacre is going to be and…"

"How?" Severus sneered. "Shall I stop in the middle and make my excuses to the Dark Lord? 'Oh, wait just a minute, I need to tell Dumbledore where we're murdering innocent people so he can lead his heroes to come stop us'? That would go over quite well." He turned to the Headmaster. "Albus…?"

"Perhaps Bill has a point, Severus. Fred and George are quite resourceful, and I don't think they've ever seen the challenge they would concede was impossible."

"THEY'RE CHILDREN!" Severus bellowed, slamming his fist onto the table with enough force to make it rattle. "YOU CANNOT BRING THEM INTO THIS!"

Silence hung heavily in the small closet for a moment, and Severus stalked to a corner, putting as much distance between himself and the other two as he could. After a moment, Bill cleared his throat softly. "They're older than you were when you decided…"

Severus whipped around and stalked towards Bill until he was standing hooked nose to freckled nose with the oldest Weasley boy. "Do you think I don't know how old they are?" he hissed. "They were in my classes for seven years. Do you think I cannot add? They turned nineteen this past November, did they not? And you are right, I was seventeen when I joined the Dark Lord. And that was twenty years ago," his voice had dropped to a barely audible but deadly whisper. "And I am still bound by that one idiotic decision made in my idiotic youth. They are too young for this, just like I was. Just like James and Lily Potter were. Just like you are."

He whirled away from Bill again and seated himself unceremoniously in one of the chairs, and the silence descended once more. Finally, Bill pushed away from the wall he was leaning against. "I may be young," he said softly, "but I know that what I do is dangerous. And I know it is right. And I would rather die fighting than hide behind a number. I still think you should involve them, and I think they would be good at it. But, if you will excuse me, I will leave the adults present to make that decision." He let himself out of the closet and slammed the door, and Severus could hear his footsteps all the way downstairs.

After another lengthy pause, Dumbledore approached Severus, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Bill is right, you know," he said softly. "Perhaps because they are young, this is their war as much as it is yours or mine. More, perhaps, because they have more of their lives ahead of them, to live in whatever world emerges."

Severus looked up at the Headmaster. "You approve of this, then?" he asked softly. "You would have boys involved? Why not bring in Potter and Ron and Miss Granger, then? Hermione is certainly brilliant. She probably has ideas knocking around in her head just waiting to get out. Or maybe Potter could come along and pull off another of his miracles. How many do you think he has tucked up his sleeve?"

"I have considered bringing those three into the inner circle, Severus, and Ginny Weasley as well. They are all talented and bright, and powerful, and Merlin knows they get into more trouble when we try to keep them out… But in the end, I suppose that I agree with you. They are children, and this is dangerous work." Dumbledore smiled kindly, moving to lean against the table, still facing Severus. "But then, I see you and Remus as children, too. It seems only yesterday that it was detentions and pranks. You were such a vulnerable child, Severus," he whispered. "And I am enough of a fool that I have loved every child who has attended Hogwarts in the last century. Molly and Arthur, Sirius and Remus and James and Lily… Lucius and Narcissa and Bellatrix and Peter… You are all too young to be fighting this war. Everyone is too young to be fighting this war," he said softly. "That is not something I can change, though."

Severus thought rather that he felt far too old at the moment to be hearing Dumbledore call him a child, but it was true, he supposed. After all, Albus Dumbledore was already Headmaster and had been for some time before Severus was even born. "I cannot be as calm and accepting of all this as you are," he said softly. "I don't see how you do it."

Dumbledore smiled slightly, then reached under his curtain of white hair and untied a cord from about his neck, pulling it off and giving it to Severus. "This is a prayer from the Muggle world," he said. "I find that the sentiment helps."

Severus closed his hand around the pendant, which radiated a warmth from having hung so close to Dumbledore's body. He peered at it; it was a coin, it seemed, and on one side there were small words engraved. He murmured them aloud. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." He frowned up at the Headmaster.

"There are many things that we cannot change," Albus said softly. "And those things that we can often require difficult decisions. Do you think it is easy for me to watch you walk away, clutching your arm, when I know that you face danger? It requires strength I wish I did not have to have to send you to Voldemort's side. To put others in harm's way when I do not know if my actions are wise, it weighs heavily on my heart, my boy. But I know that the cause we are fighting for is right, and that victory will come only at a high cost, a price we have paid in blood many times over already. It is easy to take chances with one's own life, but not so easy to take chances with the lives of those we love."

Severus stared, unseeing, at the charm in his hand for several minutes, quietly contemplating what Dumbledore had said. That was right, wasn't it? It was far easier for him to walk into the midst of the Death Eaters than it would be for him to tell anyone else to do it. With a sigh, he gave the round coin back to Dumbledore. "Are you going to invite them into the meetings, then?" he asked softly.

Dumbledore took the cord and tied it around his neck again, dropping the disc back into the front of his robe. "It is not only my decision, Severus. But perhaps a second meeting tonight is in order. I will put it to the order."

Severus nodded. "If you think it will help your cause," he said softly, "I would support it. But I'll say nothing unless you want me to. I know that I am not trusted by everyone."

Dumbledore reached towards Severus, and cradled his face in his palm for a moment. "I think that for your own safety, at least for the time being, it is better that you do not attend more of these meetings than are strictly necessary. So much rides on your ability to control your mind," the Headmaster whispered. "It is best not to give you extra things to think about and to hide from Voldemort."

"Shall I go, then?" Severus asked, ignoring the implication that he could not keep himself under sufficient control. "So you can conduct your meeting in peace?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not unless you want to, Severus. And, I don't think you want to be alone right now. That you're still here speaks volumes. Perhaps you could distract the children while we have our meeting? The last thing we need is their Extendable Ears tonight."

Severus grimaced, but nodded. "Very well," he muttered.

The twinkle returned momentarily to Dumbledore's eyes. "There is an infestation of Billywigs in the study on the third floor," he suggested. "Perhaps you could direct the students in dispersing of them."

Severus snorted softly. "Only if they can manage to capture them without harming them. I could use the stings."

Half an hour later, Severus was leaning against the closed door of the third-floor study, his arms folded across his chest, his wand in one hand and half a dozen candles in the other. Ron and Harry stood to one side, Hermione and Ginny to the other, and the twins in the middle, but standing back a bit, as though they hadn't yet decided if they were a part of this little adventure or not.

"This evening," Severus said softly, and the six of them all stopped talking, looking at him, "we will be battling a flock of Billywigs that have made this study their home." Once a teacher, always a teacher, Severus had fallen into his lecturing tone and habits to a large degree, and the four younger of the assembled were looking at him with the same looks he was accustomed to in his classes. Which was to say Hermione was attentive and Ron and Harry looked like they feared they would be given detention for blinking. Fred and George, as had so often happened, were only half paying attention, but Severus knew from experience that if he called on one of them, he would have a prompt and, more often than not, correct response; the boys had a remarkable ability to listen with half an ear. Ginny was listening politely—Severus always had the impression that she was pretending to be well-behaved, but he suspected she was to blame for a number of disruptions in his classes, though he'd never actually caught her.

"Ronald," he pointed with his wand. "What do you know about Billywigs?"

Ron's eyes widened at being put on the spot, and mentally, Severus urged him to get the answer right. He had no real desire to be harsh on the students just now, but couldn't resist the chance to lecture before letting them loose on the Billywigs.

"They're… uh… bugs?" he offered.

"Bugs." Severus shook his head, and for a moment, he did have the urge to make a biting remark, but he told himself firmly that this was not a class situation, and the students had not been given assigned reading so he could not expect them to know… Bloody hell, Ron, he thought incredulously, don't you pay attention to anything? With effort, he turned his attention away from Ron and nodded to Ginny. "Do tell me you know more about these bugs than your brother?"

"They make you laugh and float?" she answered his question with a questioning tone of her own.

Severus nodded. "So, just looking at them? Being in the same room with them?"

"Getting bit by one." Severus squinted at the twin who'd spoken; he thought it was George, but it was bloody hard to tell them apart.

"Close enough," he replied. "They don't bite, they sting, but yes. The stings cause giddyness, and sometimes levitation."

"Like in Mary Poppins," Harry said, grinning, and Hermione snickered. Everyone else, including Severus, stared blankly.

"What's Marry Poppins?" Ginny had a refreshing logic; one of the few students Severus had ever known who simply asked when she had questions.

"It's a movie," Hermione replied.

"A movie?" This time it was Fred. Well, it was Fred, assuming Severus had been right about the first one to speak being George. Severus tilted his head to one side and listened quietly as Harry explained.

"Yeah, it's like… um… pictures that move and tell a story…"

"But I thought you said people stay still in Muggle pictures?" Ron asked, obviously confused.

"Well, they do usually, but this is… I mean, they don't move by themselves or anything… Hermione, help!"

She was shaking her head, though. "It's hard to explain," she said. "They're recorded, and then played back and…"

"If I understand it correctly, it's like a play that has been captured on a special kind of film, and can be watched again at will. Is this something like the fact, Harry? Hermione?" Snape raised an eyebrow, and the children turned to look at him suddenly, as though suddenly remembering he was there.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking incredulously at the professor. "Er, I mean yes sir."

Severus nodded. "But I fail to see what that has to do with Billywigs."

"There's a scene in the movie Mary Poppins where they… the characters, not the Billywigs… laugh themselves onto the ceiling. Sir." Hermione shifted her weight between her feet, and Severus mouthed a repetition of her words.

Laughed themselves onto the ceiling. He closed his eyes for a minute, trying to picture that, and, failing to do so, shook his head. "I see," he commented dryly. "Well…"

"How did they laugh themselves onto the ceiling?" It was either Fred or George, but Severus didn't look fast enough to see which one of them it was.

Harry shrugged. "They started laughing, and then they started floating, so they had a tea party on the ceiling. Well, Marr Poppins had to bring the table up, and she wasn't laughing, but…"

Severus held up a hand. "Enough," he said, his mind swimming from the images this disjointed description was providing him. "Perhaps some time we will all be fortunate enough to witness such a spectacle, but for this evening, let's worry about the Billywigs and leave Mary Poppins out of it, hm?" It was, to Severus' credit, more of a suggestion than an order, as he was trying to keep in mind that there was absolutely nothing preventing the six of them from deciding that eavesdropping was more interesting than Billywigs. Nothing except whatever dubious influence he had over them by merit of his role as teacher and theirs as students. "Does anyone know what a Billywig looks like? Miss Gr-" he broke off and took a deep breath, "Hermione?"

She smiled, exactly as she always did in class when she was called on, and smoothed her clothing, which was Muggle clothing. "Billywigs," she began as though reciting from a book, "are approximately two inches long and blue. They tend to swarm in corners and under furniture. Light confuses them and makes them dart quickly around in a room." As she spoke, Severus found, to his horror, that her face was changing, and she was not Hermione Granger, but another young Gryffindor with wild hair and an uncanny ability to recite text verbatim. He felt his throat tighten, and he closed his eyes, trying to block out the image of Hannah Carlisle, who invariably grew up before his very eyes when he pictured her. This time was no exception, and soon he was seeing dark blue eyes, clouded behind pain and trying to pretend nothing was wrong, denying that she needed a headache potion. Those headaches had been the early signs of the brain tumors that took her life, and he had not forced her to tell Poppy about them. Perhaps Poppy could have done something. And to what end? So that the Dark Lord could tell you to kill her?

"Professor?" The hesitant voice brought him back to reality, and he opened his eyes again, looking at Ginny.

He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. "Correct, Miss Granger," he whispered hoarsely.

"Are you all right, Professor?"

Severus nodded. "I'm fine," he whispered, taking another steadying breath. He cleared his throat. "When we go in there," he said, deciding abruptly that the lesson was over, "try to avoid the stingers. I don't have an infinite supply of Glumbumble fluid on hand here. Use the immobulus spell," he instructed, "and then gather them into these jars. And mind the stingers. I can't stress that enough."

He pushed away from the door, still struggling to bring his thoughts under control and to banish the urge to drop to his knees and sob again, and the seven of them stepped into the study. "Lumos," Severus muttered, pointing his wand into the room to cast a dim, narrow beam of light.

George and Fred headed for one corner, and Hermione and Ginny for the desk, leaving Harry and Ron with a second corner. Severus closed the door firmly, and then placed an Imperturbable Charm around the room to keep the insects from escaping into other parts of the House. He muttered a candle charm, and the six candles floated and ignited, shedding a dim light in the room, which was enough to make the Billywigs begin to stir slightly, like swarm of dragonflies with silver stingers curving at the end of their tails.

"Immobulus!" Hermione began the incantations, and then Ginny followed suit, and soon, everyone was carefully picking Billywigs from the air and depositing them into jars. Severus used the tip of his wand to knock them into the jar he carried, and, after a moment, the children began to immitate him. They worked quietly for several minutes, the silence interrupted only as one or another of them moved to a different place and murmured the incantation again. One by one, the jars were set on the desk, filled with the blue insects.

After a minute, a low murmur of chatter began to fill the room, originated by one of the twins; Severus certainly couldn't tell them apart from the back. He didn't suppose it really mattered, though. "So, if they laughed themselves onto the ceiling, did they have to cry themselves onto the floor?"

It took Severus a moment to register what the boy was talking about, but he had to chuckle lightly when he realized. What must it be like to have such a single-track mind?

"As a matter of fact, yes," Hermione was saying. "Well, sort of. They had to think of something sad. But everything they thought of turned out to be funny in the end, so they kept floating back up to the ceiling again."

"Is that what the whole play was about? Laughing themselves onto the ceiling? Immobulus," Ginny had moved to crouch in front of an arm chair, and was peering underneath now. Severus had an awful mental image of her sticking her hand under that chair, but luckily, she was brighter than that, and she pointed her wand at the chair. "Wingardium Leviosa," she said, and guided the chair into the air. Severus crouched beside her.

"Allow me," he offered, and flicked the insects into a jar.

"No," Harry was saying. "It's actually about these two kids who keep running off their governess and finally a magical one comes to take care of them, and she convinces their family to… ouch!"

Severus spun and a scowl appeared on his face. "Did you get stung, Potter?" he asked, but he didn't need the answer as Harry was clutching his finger and giggling at it. "Come here," Severus ordered, standing. Still chucking, Harry moved towards him, and Severus dug in his pocket for the tiny vial of Glumbumble fluid that Dumbledore had given to him.

Harry struggled to regain his composure. "I'm fine, Professor," he said, his voice still ringing with barely contained laughter.

"Nonsense, Potter. There will be no tea parties on the ceiling in here tonight, now…"

Harry obciously found his dry comment hilarious, as his chuckle turned into a laugh. Severus took the opportunity to force a drop of the Glumbumble fluid onto the Gryffindor's tongue, and Harry immediately made a face.

"Miserable stuff, isn't it?" Severus commiserated, capping the vial again.

Harry nodded. "Miserable is right."

"Not the most effective cure for a Billywig sting, but it will do." Harry went back to the end table he was debugging, and Severus went back to the window sill, and silence settled again, leaving Severus free to let his thoughts wander for a moment. They had just ventured back to Aislinn when Ron's voice suddenly interrupted the quiet.

"Can I ask you a question, Professor?"

"Of couse," Severus replied, closing his eyes again to clear his head of visions of Aislinn.

"Why were you upset earlier?"

"When?" he asked carefully. He'd been upset three times that evening, and he ddn't want to talk about any of them particularly.

"You know," Ron said uneasily. "When you were, you know, crying."

What is it with your fixation over that? Severus thought bitterly. Don't tell me you have six siblings and none of you ever cry. He was about to reply that it was none of their business, but Ginny spoke up instead.

"Was it because of Miss Ichalia?" she asked.

"Who?" That was one of the twins, and Severus was glad he wasn't facing them, as the pain at her name was enough to wrench a ragged gasp from him.

"She was the new Divination teacher this past year," Ginny explained. "Much better than Trelawney, and easier to understand than Firenze."

"And what's she got to do with it?"

"She died." This time it was Hermione's voice, and Severus closed his eyes, willing them all to start talking about Mary Poppins again.

"Professor Snape was in love with her," Ginny said softly. "Weren't you, sir?"

He didn't trust himself to speak for a moment, but when he did, it was in a low, caustic tone. "I wasn't under the impression you needed my input in this discussion of my personal life," he hissed, flicking a Billywig into the jar he was holding with more force than was strictly necessary. He twitched with the effort of not detracting points from Gryffindor for impertinence; after all, they weren't at school and he had very little real authority here. "Continue with the Billywigs. And really," he shot venomously, "I would think you could find something more interesting to talk about than your Potions teacher."

He dropped the jar he'd been collecting Billywigs in onto the desk, and stalked out of the room, leaving the students to exchange looks that combined relief and awkwardness in varying degrees. As he shut the door, he heard one of the twins whisper, "Was he really in love?"

It was Harry who answered. "I'm not sure he still isn't."