For a disclaimer randomly pick a chapter that has already been posted.

I have had exaclty two people tell me that they wanted to continue the House Points, so I will. I'm easy to please when you tell me I'm good ;) But I couldn't get it done for this chapter and I couldn't figure a way to make it fair… so I'm now officially resuming the House Points contest. The House Cup is up for grabs!

He felt the breath on his shoulder as Voldemort leant forward. Snape hadn't been able to master Its reactions to every little move the Dark Lord made. They both knew that Voldemort could sense their struggle through the Dark Mark.

"You are s-so beautiful," Voldemort hissed in Snape's ear, one hand trailing down Snape's side, tracing each, too prominent, rib.

His breath caught and a slight tremor slipped through his control and down his abdomen. He was sure Voldemort smiled at it.

"You and Ss-severa, I was-s not ex-ss-pecting the two of you to look s-so alike…" Voldemort rose up on one elbow and ran one finger just under the band of Snape's boxers.

When Voldemort moved, he felt the fire light flicker across his back and tried to focus on that. Instead of the cool hand caressing his hip. The lisp in Voldemort's speech made it even harder to concentrate than the touching alone would have.

"I thought fraternal twins-s were not s-suppos-s-ed to look alike."

Snape recognized the tone Voldemort was using; he meant it as a question. "I would really rather not think about her right now," Snape tried to say it evenly, but his voice was not complying.

"I was-s not thinking about her."

Voldemort's dry purr nearly made him flinch it was so intimate, "We do look unusually alike." His voice sounded harsh to his own ears.

"Turn," Voldemort broke contact and moved back slightly to give Snape room to roll over. "Do you know what happens-s when you throw a live frog into a cauldron of boiling water?"

Snape rolled onto his stomach, drew his knees up some, and lay a little on his on his left side, but still mostly on his belly. "It gets burnt," the answer was spoken before he had time to think about the advisability of such an answer. He waited for a reaction, the macabre smile he got was not exactly what he would have liked, 'But it's not Cruciatus.'

"The usual answer is-s, it hops-ss out," he ran the fingers of his left hand through Snape's hair and pushed it behind his ear. "You are s-still los-s-ing weight. Do you know what happens-ss if you put a live frog in a cauldron of cool water and gradually bring it to a boil?"

"No," Snape closed his eyes at the touch, "I'm not in to torturing animals."

"Are you shutting me out," Voldemort whispered to himself, "or shutting out everything else?" it was rhetorical and Snape waited silently. "The frog will acclimate to the heating water and allow it-ss-self to be boiled. If I took you now It would fight. You would be hurt."

'So It's being tamed?'

*Doesn't it hurt anyway?! Even if you don't fight or anything, doesn't it hurt the first time at least?*

"I have had a tas-s-k for you," Voldemort continued, "and I think very s-soon the time will be right. You will be allowed to choose your team, as usual, but I would like to s-sugges-s-t the addition of Lucious-ss Malfoy."

"I will do as you say Master, you have only to give a command." His eyes were still shut when Voldemort touched his lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. He gasped and felt a jerking-back somewhere inside, then, It was gone.

~

Fully clothed, mask and hood in place, kneeling on the floor at Voldemort's feet Snape waited for formal dismissal. A hand rested on his head, the words were spoken, "Go, and do my bidding." And he left.

~

In a hollow in a forest Snape called three Chimeras to him. When they apparated he made them wait in silence for several minutes, just to make a point.

Chimera was the title for the controller of four cell groups. The cell groups were made up of ten to fifteen members, and it was these cell group members that made the fighting troops of Voldemort's army. They saw Voldemort only at the mass Dark Revels.

The Chimeras organized attacks and acted on the orders of any member of The Fates that deigned to give them an order. They saw Voldemort on a more regular basis, and he knew their names. He even, occasionally, spoke to one or another of them. The Chimeras were also known for political (and physical) backstabbing and betrayal, constantly looking for some scrap of power to lord over each other. But they were driven to succeed.

The three men present did not know each other, but they all new Snape. His silk cloak made him incapable of being confused with anyone else.

Snape smiled thinly behind his mask, 'It will not be able to report to Albus until long after it is too late to do anything to stop us.' "The Dark Lord has devised a plan, you have been selected to ensure its success…"

~

"You will wait," Snape said, lazily indicating Lucious.

The meeting was over, everyone knew their part. Lucious, though, was going to need some special attention.

With a slight bow of his head Lucious Malfoy stepped back into the scant light that the nearly full moon managed to cast into the clearing. The two other men disapparated quickly and silently.

Those of any real rank, knew that Voldemort chose from among his Fates one to be his special favorite. Due to resent developments most assumed he had chosen Snape. Lucious had been a little too free with his criticism of the choice.

"I know that you have been seeking a place in the Fates," Snape began after the others had gone, "The Dark Lord has been seeking a replacement for one that fell while he was in exile. You are being given one chance." He stepped closer and with a flash of his hand knocked Lucious' mask to the ground. (A very dangerous move, even for a superior to make.)

Lucious nearly stepped back in shock, but Malfoy's never retreat. One platinum brow arched, " I have heard that you were ill, is aggression a symptom of Potion Master's Rue?"

Snape removed his own mask and tucked it in a pocket. He advanced on the cocky blonde until their robes were brushing, the black stains in his black eyes were more than obvious. "You will beg for Cruciatus, before I am through with you."

Before Lucious could blink his silver-grey eyes, Snape was gone.

~

Still alone, Snape stepped through the door in to the sitting room he now shared with Professor Moody. Taking off his silk cloak he draped it over one arm and was nearly to his own bedroom door, before he noticed that she was sitting in the corner, reading, beside the empty fireplace.

"What have you done with my chair," he demanded in an almost playful tone.

Feet pulled up on the cushion beside her, she smirked gently without looking up from the book, "I wanted a small sofa, there's still one chair."

Tossing the cloak onto his bed, he came back into the sitting room and nudged her feet, until she moved them enough to give him room to sit. "How generous, leaving me half the furniture I had yesterday."

She looked up at that, "It is past midnight isn't it, must be more tired than I thought." She banished the book to one of the shelves that lined that corner of the room, "Is there anything you can tell me about?"

She meant it sincerely, he could see it in her dark eyes, but she had chosen the words too carefully, "You play the game very well, for a new recruit."

She smiled and turned to face him putting her back against the armrest on her side, "I had Moody to teach me to be cautious with my words, and Durmstrang to teach me caution with curiosity."

Weariness was washing over him. It was a combination of coming down from the tension of his meeting with Voldemort and the Plastijuice he had just taken. He could see the Plastijuice she took affecting her as well. He lay on his back, his head on the opposite armrest, so he could see her. His long legs stretched across her lap and hung over the armrest she was leaning against.

He sighed and shook his head, "When I'm there, I feel the power of his words…"

She just let him talk; he would say nothing that should be kept close.

He lay his left arm across his stomach, and reached his right hand out to touch her shoulder, "When I come back, I remember the years I spent trying to find you. The years I told myself that they would pay for taking you from me. And The Dark Lord's words seem like, just a means to an end. But when I'm there…" he let his hand fall to his stomach and closed his eyes.

"And it doesn't matter that you're not homosexual?"

He didn't bother trying to find the strength to open his eyes, "He has cheated death many times. We must survive and we must be free of them. He has offered me the key to that survival. If all he wants in exchange is a warm body that won't put up much of a fight… then no, it doesn't matter."

~

She blinked blue eyes and tried to figure out why she had expected him to be there when she woke up. Getting up and stretching sore muscles, she looked around the empty sitting room and the disappointed expectation turned to a slight fear. 'I have no idea how we managed to stumble down to the dungeons while he was in such pain. And I don't have a clue how he held on long enough for Fenny to get him changed out of his uniform and into a robe.' She was wandering back and forth between the few rooms they shared, small kitchenette, a more private office, a room absolutely crammed with shelves of books that would never be allowed even in the Restricted Section of the school library. 'He couldn't have gone far. Alastor said he had taken four days to recover the first time Voldemort had called him alone. And she wasn't called this time, so… where is he?'

"Fenny?" she stepped into the hall and called again, "Fenny."

The little House Elf popped into being a few paces down the hall, "Oh, Yes Miss! What does Miss wish of Fenny?"

"Fenny, do you know where he is?"

The House Elf did not hesitate a moment over the fact that no name was given for the him. "Don't you know Miss?" she asked with a tilt of her head. "No," her ears flopped as she shook her head at her own question, "too soon, still too soon to be sure," she murmured to herself.

"Fenny," the female was trying to ignore the slight concern that was trying hard to become mild panic, "Do you, or do you not, know where he is?"

"Oh Miss!" the House Elf came back to herself with a squeal, "Fenny believes he is in Potions Classroom. That is where he has been going after meeting with the Evil Man."

She dashed down the passage and peripherally noticed that the hall was shorter than it should have been, as though it had been condensed somehow. The door opened before she reached it and a warm draft fluttered out to meet her.

He was there. Slumped in exhaustion not even trying to keep himself upright, he leaned into the fireplace, his shoulder against the stonework around it the only thing keeping him from falling in.

Stepping carefully, to avoid starling him, her eyes went wide and the breath froze in her lungs.

The Expunge he kept was slowly weaving its way up a thread of tarry black sludge that he didn't have the strength to wipe from his mouth. Before it could reach him though, the Expunge's weight broke the gooey strand.

'He can't see me,' she knelt close by his side and waited for some reaction. None came. 'He doesn't hear me or even smell me. What was so important that he had to try and come back so soon?'

Reaching out one hand she touched his shoulder. He made a whimpering sound, like a puppy might make in its sleep, there was no other reaction. She drew him to his feet. He didn't resist, but he didn't make the effort to move on his own. Walking by his side she pulled his left arm across her shoulders and wrapped her right arm around his back.

"I know you went to the classroom because you're sick," she was whispering softly because she knew he couldn't hear her anyway. "But you need to rest before you can come back."

Her eyes were providing a pale blue light for them to stumble along by; his eyes were dark with shock. The hall was no longer the same one she had run down a few moments ago, but she was getting used to such changes.

Taking a moment to heave him higher up onto her shoulder she was rather surprised to look up and see Smeagol Lake. 'It was cool here last time, but the air is warm now so I guess we're heading in the right direction.'

Glancing left then right and seeing no place to go, she stepped closer to the edge of the water. The rock ledge began to extend ahead of her so she stepped closer. It was a bit clumsy but she dragged him forward and the rocky projection became a low bridge. It extended a few steps ahead of her, so close to the water's surface that a large fish was able to jump across it behind them.

As they neared the little island in the center of the lake her eyes went wide. The bare stone slabs that had made up the island were now covered in a thick multi-hued green moss. Two steps onto the mossy ground and she could feel that the bridge was gone.

Awkwardly she knelt with him and lay the male on his back. The moss gave off a fresh soft smell and he did not seem to notice. Squatting down on the balls of her feet she watched him breath for several minutes.

Slowly he came through enough to roll onto his side and curl into a loose fetal position, then he went back to wherever he had been.

Settling into a crossed legged position she breathed a monologue into the silence of the chamber. "It is very strange being here. Alastor has told me stories about you for years. And about this school and the Headmaster, I feel like I know you but there is no substance to the feeling."

The air was warming and a fog had started to develop on the surface of the cool black water. The phosphorescent blue and yellow light from the algae became a general glow that surrounded the tiny green island.

"Hogwarts is so much younger than Durmstrang, she is always moving and changing. I think that over the centuries Durmstrang has been poisoned by her Headmasters. Grigori is a good man, he is giving her the care and reform she needs to survive, but he is one man and most would rather pretend that Karkarov was the real Headmaster instead of just a pretty face for public relations."

She explained the way Houses were divided and sorted in Durmstrang and she told him about her own sorting. "Alastor told me that you were sorted privately too." He was cold and shaking violently, throwing up had cost him greatly. The fog closed in and she lay down behind the male holding him tight. The warm air helped some but he was heading for a hypothermic reaction. She started another topic, randomly, "Before I got the letter from Alastor, the letter where he asked me to come here, I killed one of the members of the faculty. I was walking back from the Headmaster's sitting room, and Dimitri pulled her into a side passage. He covered her mouth and hexed her so she couldn't fight back. He was tearing at her shirt when I threw him with a kinetic charge. He drew his wand and shot a cutting curse at my throat, I cut his throat with my claws. He took a wet breath and the blood flowed out when he exhaled. They have probably found him by now."

The shaking had become less severe and she took off her cloak and wrapped them both in it, "What was it that was so important that you had to crawl off down the hall half back from the void? Was it the summons from Voldemort to him that you interrupted that drove you back? Or was it something the Dark Lord did once you were there that did this to you? Alastor said you weren't able to come back for over half a week once. Why are you trying so hard to come back so soon this time?"

Three hours later she had one answer.

"Longbottom," the male's voice was a crackling whisper, "We need to finish the lesson."

He struggled to get up, she struggled to get him to his feet. They both tried to cross the bridge back to the shore with a minimum of obvious help on her part.

Again the passages redirected themselves until they were at the Potions Masters' private quarters. Fenny appeared, she had been expecting them to come back soon. The small House Elf took over once the female had lain the male on the deep green comforter on his bed. She left the two of them so she could change into her Potions robes.

It was nearly five a.m.

~

"Neville," a voice whispered in the predawn darkness of the Fifth year boys' dorm. "Neville you need to get up now."

Slowly coming awake, the boy rolled over, "Professor Lupin?" he groggily whispered back, "What?"

"Come on," he pulled the Gryffindor-red bed drapes open more. "I have no idea why, but Snape saw fit to get up at this ungodly hour, and he wants you to get into some sort of practice uniform. He said you would know what was expected."

It took a while for Neville to wake up, but he got dressed quickly enough. Remus led the way through the Portrait door and into the hall where a figure in black was waiting, leaning against the wall.

She heard them before they even opened the hidden door, but didn't bother to lift her head for a few beats. Suddenly lifting her dark blue eyes to Neville's face not quite meeting his eyes, out of habit. She felt his brief confusion, 'He was thinking of the same person as the first time we met. Who did he think I was, that's the real question now.' "Mister Longbottom."

"Professor Moody!" His voice reinforced her impression that he was expecting someone else.

"Now that that has been established," she moved away from the wall and headed down the corridor, "Your lesson was interrupted last night, we will endeavor to complete it today."

Lupin was following them. His footfalls were nearly silent, but nearly wasn't good enough. 'Alastor said, never do a thing half way, he was right,' She remembered his gruff voice, '"when a thing is done or untried it can't touch you. But a thing left in the middle has two ends to get you with," Lupin puts too much faith in his silence.' The female smiled faintly at the memory, one of the happier memories from her days at Durmstrang.