Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and her publishers, not to me.
Spoilers: All five HP novels.
PRELUDE--MUSINGS & CONVERSATIONS (Part Two)
V: Severus and Remus (Late afternoon to evening, Friday, 5 July 1996)
Snape entered 12 Grimmauld Place quietly, avoiding waking up the annoying portrait (and thinking maybe it was time to team up Bill Weasley, the curse-breaker, and Filius Flitwick, the Charms Master, to find a final solution to that harridan, before someone snapped and leveled the wall and her with it), and went in search of someone more expert on Potter than he was.
He found Remus Lupin in the kitchen. The werewolf half-rose in surprise, but decided his usual politeness was not unwarranted.
"Severus, I wasn't expecting you. I was just about to make tea; would you like some?"
Snape rubbed his head a little; he hadn't realized he was starting a headache. "I wasn't going to, but yes, I will—and please put something stronger in it. I need to speak with someone about something I find very odd, and unfortunately you are the best choice."
Lupin's eyebrows rose. That Snape would voluntarily share a cup of tea with him, and actually ask him to spike it, meant that the Potions Master was deeply disturbed about something. "Then let me get the decent stuff, and that tea that I've seen you like. If this is going to be a serious discussion, we're likely to need it." He put the kettle on, lit the fire with his wand, and got out the teapot and the brandy. As the water boiled, he studied the other man's lowered face and discreetly inhaled his scent. He picked up the usual scents around Snape: Potions, including (he was pleased to note) the ingredients for Wolfsbane; the basic scent of the man; and tension (did the man never relax?). Snape was obviously deeply troubled; for him to voluntarily come to Lupin at all—and half-civilly at that—was not at all usual.
Lupin busied himself with getting the tea things ready; when both men had steaming cups in front of them he opened the bottle. "Shall I pour, or would you rather?" he asked.
In answer, Snape took the bottle and poured himself a decent tot; handing the bottle back to Lupin, he stirred the tea and took a sip. "Sufficient," he judged aloud. Lupin did likewise, and both men sat in silence for a minute, each with his own thoughts.
Lupin broke the silence. "You said you needed something from me?" he prompted.
Snape decided getting directly to the point would be best. "Yes. I have had a very disturbing letter that purports to be from Harry Potter. I know that your Werewolf senses can verify if he wrote it or at least handled it. The handwriting, at least, matches. Afterwards, I think perhaps you ought to read it, and tell me if this is actually Potter, or an imposter; if it is Potter, whether he is in his right mind. If he is, or not, will determine the proper course of action."
This wasn't exactly what Lupin had expected. "Why would an imposter send you anything? But yes, I'll look it over." Snape handed over the letter, and watched as Lupin took it in his hands and sniffed it gently.
"Oh, it's Harry, all right; this is one of the ones Tonks brought over this morning from Arabella's. I scent him, her, Albus a little, and you, but mostly Harry." Brown eyes met black as Lupin studied the other man. "Are you sure you want me to read it, now I've verified it for you? I know how much you value your privacy."
"Yes, I must have you read it now, whether I want to or not; I've realized that I truly don't know Potter well enough to tell if he's in his right mind or not. For him to voluntarily send me a letter over summer is odd enough; but the contents are disturbing, and I want your opinion as to his sincerity and veracity." Snape dropped his eyes and studied his teacup. He did hate to come to Lupin of all people, and for something such as this, but the wolf was the only adult other than Albus who knew the boy well enough to give him a useful answer. Even Minerva, who was Potter's Head of House, didn't know him as well as Lupin did. The only other option was the older Weasleys, and some of what was discussed in the letter they didn't know about and he hoped never would; Lupin did. He couldn't very well go to the other teens with this, and he wanted a response at least partly worked out before he went to Albus with it. And, much as he hated to admit it, Lupin was the only half-decent one of the four Marauders who had plagued his school life; the werewolf also seemed to have grown up, as Black never really had, and treated him decently enough despite their shared history. And, oddly enough, that was one of the points Potter had touched on.
For Lupin, the situation reminded him of a variant of the Muggle saying: "Hell has frozen over and the Devil is ice-skating". Yet, the other man was obviously sincere for once, so he owed it to him—and to the Order, and to Harry--to give him an honest answer if he could. He unrolled the scroll and began to read it.
After reading it through twice, Lupin thought for a few minutes. "Severus, I think I can see what is bothering you, and for what it's worth, it's bothering me, too. For Harry to write something like this to you means he is forcing down a huge amount of pride, grief and hurt and trying to make amends with you, so that you would be more amenable to helping him. That, at least, is genuine; Harry just doesn't have the mind-set to fake anything like this. Something must have happened after the Ministry incident to change his attitude toward you; he already knew what you are, so that isn't entirely it. Albus must have told him something disturbing." Lupin reread another paragraph. "And being stuck with those miserable excuses for Muggles means that he can't do anything but think about things. Harry has a serious tendency to assume the guilt for everything that goes wrong; and that can be laid at the doorstep of the Muggles, too; they never treated him as anything remotely human, in hopes that his magic would never manifest, and sometimes he feels as if he needs to apologize for existing."
Snape was more than surprised; while that explained a few things, some of his most long-held assumptions were being challenged. "Are they truly that bad? Potter never seems to complain about them."
Lupin grimaced. "Harry has a bad habit, obviously ingrained by them, of not complaining about anything to do with them—or much else. He's learned not to trust adults, and he's too ashamed to tell his friends much. And yes, they are that bad; their treatment of Harry is just short enough of abuse not to set off warnings."
This was getting stranger to Snape. "Did Albus know how bad they were? Why in Merlin's name did he put the boy there?"
"Second question first: two reasons. One is that what Lily did created a Blood Magic spell that protects him from Riddle so long as he has a home where her blood resides—in this case, her sister Petunia. Second, he wanted the boy raised away from the Wizarding World to protect him, not only from the remaining Death Eaters, but also from all the celebrity you accuse him of. Harry didn't even know what a Wizard was until Hagrid brought him his Hogwarts letter, after Vernon Dursley kept throwing out all the ones that arrived by mail and owl post." Lupin smiled slightly at the memory of Hagrid's retelling of that story. "You really should ask Hagrid about that; it's quite a story." He looked up at the other man. "I think it also might explain part of why you and Harry got off on the wrong foot to start with. He told me that the Sorting Hat told him he 'could be great in Slytherin', but he kept saying 'not Slytherin', so he ended up in Gryffindor."
"No! The Boy-Who-Lived in my House? With total ignorance of the Wizarding world combined with his celebrity, being the one to defeat the Dark Lord in a House full of Death Eaters' relatives, and a Muggleborn mother on top of it all? He'd have been eaten alive!" Snape shuddered at the very thought.
"Or, he might have been a good influence on Malfoy, and drawn in some of your moderates, like the Zabini boy," Lupin returned gently; he didn't want to spoil the longest civil conversation he'd ever had with his old enemy. "Besides, he'd have had you as his House Head, and you would have been bound to protect him, despite him being James' son." He shook his head. "How Harry ended up a decent human being after that upbringing—well, he did have fifteen months with Lily and James, for whatever that may have been worth—is beyond me. Now Hagrid, bless him, is as good-hearted a soul as I know, but he's also a quite thoroughgoing Gryffindor, much like Ron Weasley, and had already told Harry that Slytherin House was where evil wizards came from. Considering Hagrid's own history with Tom Riddle, whose lies got him expelled, I'm not surprised. Then, Harry met Draco Malfoy in Diagon Alley, and didn't take to his superior attitude at all; on the train, Draco insulted Ron and Harry saw a Wizarding version of his bullying oaf of a cousin, which pretty much alienated him from anything Slytherin. And as to why Harry's relatives didn't get any warning, I suspect it's because he's Wizard-born; they forgot he was being Muggle-raised, so they didn't get what the Muggleborns' families usually get. Or, if they did, they ignored it. Petunia would know what to expect, after growing up with Lily; but Vernon would not, and they both despise the Wizarding world and everything to do with it." Lupin took a deep breath. "As to your first question, I don't know for sure, but I don't think Albus ever knew all the details, just that the boy was alive and healthy. I suspect, knowing Albus, it was a hard choice between keeping him safe and keeping him happy." He looked unhappy at the memories that were coming up. "Severus, you of all people know how it was then. Sirius was in Azkaban, Peter we thought was dead, and I'm a werewolf and can't get sole custody of a child. Now, we weren't the only friends the Potters had, after all. Dozens of families would have lined up to have the opportunity to raise the Boy-Who-Lived. But there were still Death Eaters on the loose; look at what happened to the Longbottoms not long afterwards. Most of the Order members were either unable to raise small children, like the Hogwarts Professors, or had their own problems like the Weasleys' poverty or my lycanthropy; the ones who could might not have been able to protect him. If the Ministry had taken a hand, he might have ended up with the Malfoys or someone like that—and with his power and that upbringing, we may have been getting a second Dark Lord, on top of the one some of us knew wasn't totally gone to begin with. Or worse, a fusion, worse than Quirrell was!"
Snape's headache was getting worse. This wasn't at all what he had expected. "Then why did they keep him at all? And just how bad are they, really?"
"Because they knew that we knew he was there, and had no way of knowing when we would check on him. They are terrified of scandal, and there would have been one, even on the Muggle side, if anything had happened and Albus found out. Oh, they didn't really do anything to him, I think, but they were never kind; he was constantly belittled and called a freak, especially after he got his letter. The other thing they did was underfeed him and fail to provide for even his basic needs; have you ever seen him before term in Muggle clothes? They're all worn-out hand-me-downs from his cousin, who is about half again bigger than Gregory Goyle. Neglect can border on abuse. As it is, Arabella was watching him all these years, her and her cats. She couldn't do much, or they would have forbidden her access; but they accepted her as a babysitter when they wanted to go out without him. He never even knew she was a Squib until she had to testify at his hearing. And as to how bad they are personally..." Lupin frowned, deep in thought. "Remember...oh, Miranda Bulstrode, year ahead of us, your House? I think you have a niece of hers in your House now. Tall, thin, bossy, and screechy?"
Snape winced at the memory. "I do, and I sincerely wish you hadn't reminded me; I pity anyone who married her. I've never heard a voice, then or now, that could penetrate through the Serpent's Den like hers did, and her temper got us more House points deducted than her genuine talent at Transfiguration got back." He sipped his tea, frowned at it, and refreshed both the tea and the brandy in it. "Miranda must have gotten her build from her mother's side of the family; the Bulstrodes tend to be big and blocky, as Millicent is." He rummaged his own memories and shuddered. "I don't recall what became of her, though; she didn't marry anyone I personally knew. But if I never hear from her again it'll be too soon."
Lupin nodded. "I remember Millicent in my Defense classes when I taught; she was already growing well at thirteen. Well, take about six inches off Miranda in height and make her blonde, and you have Petunia. I swear she's as opposite to Lily as one could imagine; they are nothing alike. As to Vernon..." He thought some more. "Take Martin Goyle; add something of a brain, a temper like Miranda's, the rigid anti-Muggle prejudices of Lucius Malfoy—or better yet, Madame Black—in reverse, with none of Malfoy's good manners; add a walrus mustache, and you have Vernon Dursley. Dudley is their son; about a month older than Harry and twice the size; spoiled far worse than Draco Malfoy—Draco at least has had some discipline, while Dudley appears to have had none—a blond junior version of Vernon, and with all the family's hateful attitudes toward 'freaks'—meaning wizards. That is what Harry grew up among." He fell into silence.
Snape tried to piece together the images Lupin had offered, and almost cringed; they weren't pretty. He'd seen enough similar situations in the children of his own House. Lupin, for his part, was surprised at the other man's lack of snarkiness and sneers. The two men sat quietly for a few minutes, each one lost in his own thoughts.
Lupin broke the silence again. "Severus, I'm sorry for being a poor host; can I get you something to eat? Molly left quite a few sandwiches under a Preserving Charm for all of us. If you and I keep this up, we are both going to need Sober-Up Potions and maybe a Hangover Potion; and from what I can sense you could use a headache remedy, too. Now, I don't know about you, but I didn't eat much breakfast, and it's well past lunch time; we still haven't gotten into the meat of what we need to discuss, which is the letter itself."
Snape pulled out of his thoughts at the quiet words, and realized it was nearly dinnertime. He had forgotten to eat lunch at the school before he left. "Yes, please, anything within reason will do. I think we should both hold off on any more brandy, too; this—discussion—needs to stay sober." Another thought struck him. "Where is Molly, anyway? And is anyone else coming for dinner? I think this should be kept private, and if the kitchen is going to be full of people I really don't care to talk here."
"I agree. If you'll get the tea tray, I'll get a sandwich tray; we can go into one of the upstairs sitting rooms that doesn't have a portrait in it. Even Headmaster Black gets on my nerves after a while, and he's not the worst by any means." Lupin tucked the letter into a robe pocket, and went into the Preserving Cabinet for some roast beef sandwiches and some small cakes. "I think Molly's at the Burrow for a few days."
Some minutes later, the two men were seated in a small sitting room on the second floor, with the food and drink on a small table. "Hmm...this is much more comfortable than the kitchen," Snape commented after devouring half his first sandwich.
"No argument here. Molly did a good job of the cleanup, too; this room is actually usable." Both men were silent as they ate. Afterwards, when there were no more sandwiches, Lupin broke the silence as he took out the letter and scanned it again.
"All right, let's take this point by point. Yes, Harry did Firecall us about the incident with your Pensieve; I agree that he should never have looked into it, but he did. What he saw greatly upset him, and I think that Siri telling him that we were only fifteen wasn't enough of a reason, in Harry's eyes, for what he and James did to you." He met Snape's eyes directly. "And, for what it's worth now, I am sorry that I didn't break it up myself, as was my duty as a Prefect. Lily behaved better than I did. They were wrong, and you didn't deserve that. For my part, and I shouldn't have waited this long to do so, I apologize." He waited for the other man's reaction.
Snape silently held out his hand for the letter, and reread the first few paragraphs. "It seems as if he urgently wants to clear up, or at least put off, all our past history, so that we can get on with the task at hand; you did note that he wishes you and me to work together? He even recognizes that he can't correct the past, only deal with it. That takes a level of maturity I didn't know he had. What has gotten into him?" Deciding, he set down the letter and held his hand out to Lupin. "Truce?"
"Agree. And if we're going to work together, call me Remus." Lupin took the offered hand for the proper length of time, and then released it. He picked up the letter again and reread another paragraph. "It would seem to me that he's driven by something—something urgent; strong enough for him to swallow an awful lot that I think he hasn't had time to truly recover from, such as losing Sirius, and all his past history with you. Is that what you see?"
"Yes. I don't know everything that happened at the Ministry, and I don't know what Albus told him afterwards; but I expected him to still be grieving and blaming either himself or me. That is what I could not fathom. All last year he was reacting to the events at the graveyard; he was self-isolated, and trying to push people away, to the point of seriously alienating his friends, and that lasted a good part of the year, until they started their Defense club. Then there was the entire mess with Umbridge; he simply could not keep his temper around her when she told what to him were blatant lies that the Ministry wanted the students to eat; that cost him many detentions and House points. At the end of the year, after the Ministry, he was angry and grieving. Now, he seems to have borne the loss and everything else, including all the people he cared about who were hurt, in far less time than I expected, and is desperately asking me for help—me, whom he usually sincerely and somewhat justifiably detests, and probably blames in part for Black's death." Another thought hit Snape, and he frowned. "And I find it truly odd that he is asking about the Dark Lord's revival ritual, for three reasons: I would have thought he would never wish to remember it again, as it has inhabited his nightmares ever since that day; he's offering a Pensieve memory, when he knows how personal such things are, to me of all people; then today, the Headmaster asked me the same thing—to look up books on the matter in the Black library--when I was leaving to come here. I think Potter wrote him, too, asking the same thing. Why?"
Lupin shook his head. "I know he will have something to do with Riddle's defeat, but undoing a Dark Ritual is not something I see him trying to do. But there is some urgency here, as if he's thinking we don't have much time." He raised his head and looked at Snape again. "Is there anything you know that I don't, that would account for such urgency?"
Snape considered, then shook his head. "I cannot, for the life of me, see how the Dark Lord can do anything major soon, with most of his Inner Circle in Azkaban and his return now so in the open no one can deny it. Either he must recruit, trust the lesser ranks, or free the imprisoned ones, before he even thinks of doing anything major. All he has left of the Inner Circle right now are Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange—and me; hardly the team I would choose for a major campaign, even with the Dementors gone from Azkaban." He finished off the last bite of the cake he had been nibbling on, then spoke again. "My House is really going to be upset, with so many students, most of them in the upper forms, with their fathers or relatives in Azkaban." He snorted. "And Fudge is taking his own good time about the trials, too; it isn't just the Dark Lord who wants Malfoy out and free."
"Uh-huh. Remember it was the Ministry, not the Dark Lord, who sent Umbridge to Hogwarts. If she weren't in St. Mungo's, I'd be sorely tempted to risk being put down and take her with me; not only did she hurt Harry, she's the one who wrote all those werewolf directives that ensure I can't get a job. If it weren't for Siri slipping gold into my vault before he died—"a brief pause, then he continued—"and giving me a home here, and Albus giving me Order work, I would be starving."
Snape swallowed any expression of pity; the werewolf was as proud as he himself was, and would not appreciate it any more than he would have. He was surprised that Lupin had even mentioned it to him. This wasn't the time for his usual snarky comments, either; the other man had been making an extreme effort to suppress his own considerable grief and to be courteous, honest and fair; the least he could do was to match it. Aloud, he said, "Don't. She isn't worth it. For that matter, I was sorely tempted to hex her myself several times; and still would, if and when it was appropriate; even leaving aside what she did to Potter and some of the other students, I still think that what she had done to Minerva was totally inexcusable. But creatures such as Umbridge do not arise in a vacuum. I've known for a long time that Albus and the Dark Lord are not the only power brokers who are trying to manage the Wizarding world. There are differences with them, though: Riddle is at least honest when he declares that he wants to rule, and his wishes are made abundantly clear, even if he's being a hypocrite about Pureblood supremacy, being a halfblood himself. You are either with him or against him. Malfoy allied with him, halfblood or no, because Riddle is truly a powerful enough Wizard to oppose Dumbledore, and can help Malfoy get what he wants: the rule for himself and his Pureblood aristocrat friends. Albus, for all his machinations, at least sincerely gives a damn about the ordinary Witches and Wizards who aren't rich or powerful, does not discriminate for or against any intelligent species or hybrid, and gives choices—and chances—to those who work for him. Not all those greedy for power are wearing the Mark, and they are far more dangerous in the long run, as they have the force of law behind them. Albus knows this, and I think he is getting worried. It's not just the war we have to win; Albus also intends to win the peace, and that is going to be harder."
Lupin stared into his teacup. "Getting worried? He is worried. Fudge will go with whoever he thinks will come out on top, if he could only be certain who it'll be. Afterwards, he wants to take the credit and get the winners under his thumb. He'll cave, if you supply enough gold and power; he wants to do right, but in such a way that he wins. He also is truly afraid of Albus—not just as a Wizard, as anyone with sense would, but of his political power, which means far more to Fudge; that's why all those Prophet articles last year implying the worst. Albus will balk, and Harry will balk; after that bit with the Dementors last summer—and that was also Umbridge's doing, by the way—Harry will never trust the Ministry again, unless someone like Arthur or Amelia Bones is in charge." He turned back toward his companion, still thinking. "Maybe that is what Harry's seeing: not that he has to deal with Riddle so soon, but that the Ministry will get in the way if he doesn't?"
Snape shook his head. "I don't see that; I think Potter is focused only on Riddle. Growing up Muggle, the boy has little clue on our world's governance." He studied the letter again. "Odd, that he should mention everything but what Albus told me happened at the Ministry: that the Dark Lord possessed him."
"Albus told me the same thing; and that Riddle had taunted him to kill Harry to get him. Of course, Albus wouldn't do it."
"Did he say how Potter managed to survive it? Occlumency has its limits and even a skilled Occlumens, which Potter certainly was not, can't stave off a full possession by someone as powerful as the Dark Lord. I know I could not, if he really wanted to do it, and I am one of the best alive."
"Yes; he hurt so badly that he wanted to die and join his parents and Sirius—and all the love he felt pushed Riddle out. Apparently it hurt Riddle, for what reason I cannot fathom." Lupin set down his cup and spread out both hands in an I-don't-know gesture.
The other man frowned. "I don't know either, and I unfortunately know more about that subject—Riddle, not love—than most people. But that still begs the question of why Potter feels he has to do this himself, other than the usual Gryffindor self-sacrifice, of which he has far more than his share. Albus won't tell me details, and he should not, so that I cannot be forced to tell. But his hints over the years tend to make me think that Albus thinks that Potter has to be there to finish what he started."
Lupin thought for a moment, then a look of dismay came over his face. "What if Harry is the Prophecy Child?"
"What, the one about the child born at the end of the seventh month having the power to defeat the Dark Lord? Potter already fulfilled that, if not completely, the first time around. The Dark Lord knows that one."
"Did he, now? Yes, he got us thirteen years of relative peace, but the bastard is still here." Lupin took back the letter again and scanned it until he found the lines he wanted. "Look—here in the third part: '...now that I have finally been told why I am at all important to the war effort other than as a symbol.' " Lupin's eyes were troubled. "What if he has to be the one to do it again?"
Snape felt sick, as various bits of data started forming disquieting patterns in his mind. "That...would explain much: a lot of Potter's letter, why the Dark Lord is obsessed with killing him, and Albus' protecting him more than anyone else." His heart sank further at the thought of possible consequences. "And you know what will happen: those friends of his will trail along right with him; and he'll be either trying to protect them, or lose it altogether when they die protecting him. Merlin's beard, we're in worse trouble than we thought." Another thought hit him. "Remus, think—just why did the Dark Lord spend months of planning, a major effort in long-distance Legilimency and Dream tampering, at least one murder and one attempted murder—not even including Black—and a dozen of his Inner Circle, to get Potter to get a Prophecy out of the Department of Mysteries, if he already knew it? If that was the prophecy he was after, then there must be more to it that he knew."
Lupin squeezed his eyes shut; that whole train of thought was getting very painful. "You know his mind-set far better than I ever will. But you also know the rules. Only the ones directly affected can access those, and Riddle couldn't very well do it himself. He had to get Harry to do it, so it affects both of them. Fortunately, it was smashed before the Death Eaters got it; for once we can thank all the Fates for Neville's clumsiness. He had it in his robe pocket, and it ripped while Harry was trying to get him out of the Death Chamber; Neville was under a Tarantellagra hex at the time. It broke on the concrete steps."
Snape's train of thought was no less painful. "And he was furious about it, too. Consider it from his point of view: Malfoy, one of his top lieutenants, led twelve of the most experienced Death Eaters—and they got battled to at least a draw, before the Order and the Aurors came, by six half-trained teenagers: one flake, one fumbler, one Mudblood, and the two youngest Weasleys, led by the Boy-Who-Just-Won't-Lie-Down-and-Die--and failed in the mission, and, worst of all, got caught. If what happened to me and Pettigrew was any indication, and we weren't even there—Bella got much worse for having to be personally rescued—Malfoy should be grateful he's in Azkaban; the Ministry is not as liberal with torture as the Dark Lord is." Snape didn't bother to mention just what had happened to him; it was part of being what he was, and he knew Lupin knew it.
Lupin's eyes hardened. "For all I care, he can do all he wants to Bellatrix: she owes Harry and me for Sirius, and she Crucioed Neville; he knows what she did to his parents." Snape saw an echo of the wolf flare just a little. "I have never been so grateful for my curse, Severus, as when I had to keep Harry back from trying to get into the Veil and get Sirius out of it. A normal man could not have held him, even as small and thin as he is. He finally broke away and went chasing her; Riddle found them dueling in the Atrium, and that was when Albus intervened. Riddle got her away, though." He looked up, and now Snape saw even more of the wolf. "I know you sometimes have to participate in punishment sessions; give her a few extra for me if you can, huh? Or else Harry may try, and I don't want him going down that road."
Snape's dark eyes closed. "It's too late, Remus," he said softly. "He already has. Bella told us that he tried the Cruciatus on her in the Atrium, and failed to hold the effect. According to her, he didn't have enough hate to do it correctly, only righteous anger." Never had he thought that he would be the one to tell something like that to Remus Lupin, of all people. This was shaping up to be one of the strangest days of his life.
Remus looked horrified, and then buried his face in his hands. "Merlin—if Fudge ever finds out, that will ruin any chance we have. He'll crucify Harry, tear Albus to shreds for allowing it, and Riddle will win by default! Harry can't beat him if he's in Azkaban with his wand snapped!" He looked up at the other man; while Snape's face was as hard to read as ever, his now-open eyes were haunted. "Severus, what do we do now? I don't know about you, but I'm pledged to do anything I have to in order to beat Riddle, and I will. But Harry is all I have left, and sacrificing him to this war is only if there is NO other option."
"So am I also pledged, Remus. This is why we are in the Order. You have your reasons; I have mine." He left the question unanswered.
Remus was quiet for a minute. He didn't want to break their fragile truce, but he felt the need for an answer. "Severus, what has really made you come to me, and be more open, honest and civil in one afternoon than you've been in the last fifteen years? I can't imagine what it must have taken you to break years of habit and attitudes—any more than I can imagine what has driven Harry to write this disturbing letter so soon."
Snape was about to retort in his usual manner, then forced himself to reconsider; it was a fair question. He replied, unusually frankly. "Because you're the only adult in the Order, apart from Albus, who knows Potter well enough to give me an informed opinion without hysterics or hedging, and I need an opinion other than Albus' before I go to him with this, which I will have to do. The only other ones who even come close are the elder Weasleys; but they don't know about the Pensieve incident, or the background, and I prefer not to discuss it with them. You do know. Besides, Molly is far too protective of the boy; she will not agree to anything that involves him more deeply. Between the blunt urgency I see in Harry's letter, and some of the matters Albus seems to be accelerating, I'm seeing a disturbing pattern..." His eyes were now focused elsewhere. "I have no idea why Potter's letter has disturbed me so much, but I'm feeling some of his urgency. It's as if..." he trailed off, and recovered. "It's as if we are getting short on time for some reason. If I've learned one thing in all these years of...working for Albus, it's that wasted time cannot be recovered." He looked directly at the other man. "For me to act in my...usual manner would only waste more time. I could never have done this with Black, because he would have argued before we even got started. You are a far more adult human being than he ever was, and you are willing to see the goals as more important than keeping up the feud. I regret his loss to the Order, because for all his many faults he was an excellent fighter and loyal to Albus; but working with him was a serious trial for both of us."
"He was, but he was loyal to Harry far more than to Albus. If you think Molly's overprotective—you weren't here that night..." Lupin squeezed his eyes shut tightly and pulled himself back under control. Now was not the time to break down. He also knew that was the only condolences he would get from Snape for Sirius; he was surprised to get any at all. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then spoke again. "What you said about wasted time—you're right, and so is Harry. Siri is out of the fight now, and can't help us any more. So I ask again—what do we do now?"
Snape rose to his feet and began pacing slowly. "First, we do what Albus asked, which will also aid what Harry asked of me: look into the library here for anything on the revival ritual. I've heard enough about it so that I will recognize it if I see it; it's serious Dark Magic, no question, and Blood Magic, so I'm not surprised that Albus couldn't find anything useful at Hogwarts. Second, whether we find anything or not, we both go to Albus, and lay everything on the table—and make him do so as well. I don't think it's a coincidence that he's holding a Head of House meeting next Monday, a month and a half before the usual time. This is Friday. I think we should both spend time in the library tonight, although I do have to return later tonight for the next step in your potion, if I'm to have it ready for you by Full Moon. Tomorrow morning, we go to Albus. If he sees that we are working together on this, we may get more out of him."
Lupin also rose. "Then let's get to it; I think we've squeezed out as much as we can get from the letter without more information." He turned toward the door, and stopped. "I wonder if Harry would be willing to discuss all this with both of us in person?"
Snape joined him, and they headed out the door toward the library. "Perhaps. But if we do that, I would wait until we have conferred with Albus; I want to have something solid to tell him. Assuming this letter is sincere and accurate, he will no longer accept deception, protection or half-measures." A small smirk escaped, with a little of his usual amusement at discomfiting a Potter. "Hmm...I think that might be a good idea at that; it will tell us for certain if he is indeed willing to 'pay whatever price is asked'. Surely a discussion amongst the three of us would not be so heavy a price, now would it?"
"Only if it is indeed all three of us; I want to be there to see his expression when you are civil to him!" Lupin accepted the other man's quirky attempt at humor, and answered in kind. Together, they entered the library and started searching.