Lucius Malfoy wore the mantle of noblesse oblige with masculine grace and magnetic charisma. But without the sincerity that would have marked him as a true nobleman, he invariably came off as someone who was trying too hard to be convincing. It did help greatly that he looked and acted the part but appearances seldom mattered to those who knew better. As he walked through the corridors of the Ministry nodding to those who acknowledged him and greeting those whom he had no choice but to acknowledge, he mused on the vagaries of fate. Here he was scion to one of the richest and oldest of wizarding families yet having to curry favor from and attend to those of ancestry so common as to be only two steps above a house elf in his estimation. He reached the Minister's office. He was immediately ushered into the Minister's office.
Malfoy put on a mask of cheery unconcern. "Minister, good morning to you. I was hoping you could help with a small project."
"Certainly, Lucius, always ready to help," answered Cornelius Fudge. "I owe you one for suggesting the idea about the seminar electives at Hogwarts. The school board was most pleased."
"You're very welcome, Minister. Always on the look out for anything to better my alma mater as it were. As to what I need help on, I've been asked to prepare a brief for the trustees meeting next week and I need some reference materials about Hogwarts."
"I know just the man to help you. Come with me." Fudge led the way to an anteroom where several desks were occupied by busy looking men and women. He approached the desk of a lean, dark-haired young man whose placard read "Operational Research Assistant".
"Good morning, William," Fudge introduced the two. "I assigned Douglas to run the Hogwarts seminar for me. William, Lucius here needs some research and I know that you're just the one to help him."
"I'll do my best. Mr. Malfoy, I believe what you may need is in the reference library," Douglas said. "Please follow me."
Malfoy followed him out of the Minister's office. "What did you make of Hogwarts, Douglas?"
"Not what I expected. The place is supposed to be legendary. I suppose I expected to be knocked off my feet. The grounds were very impressive as was the castle itself on first impressions. But I'm afraid the staff and faculty did not strike me as worthy of the place. I saw a few of the faculty dead asleep in the staff room in the middle of the day. I was talking to the the astronomy professor and she kept going on and on about the amazing plant cuttings to be found in the greenhouses. And the classroom assigned to me looked like it had been hastily fixed up after a bomb blast."
They descended a few flights before reaching the door to the reference library with Douglas continued to rant. "You were right to suspect that all was not right over there, sir. To think that I dreamed of being accepted at Hogwarts when I was a kid."
"Well, I've known for years that the staff was cut-rate with some exceptions," Malfoy added. "How about the castle infrastructure itself? Repairs to those would be very expensive."
"The foundation seemed sound for the most part. Parts of the dungeon were flood hazards though. I couldn't find the different dungeons specifically. I had no idea that dungeons could be that extensive. Perhaps if I had another day to ."
"I see, but no matter. I thank you for the information," Malfoy said.
"It was nothing, sir. The least I could do to repay you and your family for my university scholarship. My family wouldn't have been able to send me to school. Look at me now working at the Ministry and thanks to your recommendation I'm assisting the Minister himself. Whatever you need from me, sir, just ask."
"It is nothing less than what you deserve, Douglas, believe me, nothing less." Malfoy smiled wolfishly. "Now, please procure for me any references available regarding Hogwarts founding and the ancient families. I understand that some of these things are restricted however I'm planning a historical brief for a trustees meeting next week. Any supporting material would be a great help."
"Of course, let me go see about those references. I have clearance for the restricted material. It should be no problem seeing that it's you, sir."
As Douglas left, Lucius Malfoy was in deep thought replaying in his mind all of the information Douglas had unwittingly given him. So, the blessing is having more of an impact it seems. Certainly more than what Snape had been saying. Of course, Snape has been saying less and less these days. He hardly attends any of the meetings unless specifically requested by Voldemort. Very convenient and also very suspicious.
That day's transfiguration class was brutal. A physically drained fifth year Gryffindor class walked out with a new appreciation and fear of their normally kind if strict head of house. Professor McGonagall had surprised them midpoint in class by announcing that the class was going to begin studying offensive transfiguration. She stood in front of the room.
In her most stern manner she told them, "Transfiguration is not to be taken lightly as its effects could be permanent and could be worse than actually dying. Transfiguration as a weapon should only be used as the absolute last resort in self defense."
"But, professor, changing your opponent to a ferret before he can get to you seems a whole lot better alternative than letting him get a shot at you first," Ron observed.
"I agree on that point, Mr. Weasley, however, I need to point out that while you were preparing yourself to cast the spell you have left yourself open to attack. You can't very well cast your spell if you are laying on the ground experiencing the Cruciatus, can you?" McGonagall explained. "Transfiguration spells require intense and steady concentration. Only the most accomplished caster can even move while casting a spell on the run. It is because of that reason that transfiguration spells are usually used last to finally incapacitate your opponent once and for all."
"Last week you learned how to transfigure an object into a box. Now, I want to see how well you all learned it." Suddenly around her appeared several round multicolored octagonal orbs floating in mid air. Each ball then moved to hover in front of a student. "Each one of these balls are keyed to one of you. Your assignment for the rest of the rest of this class is to transform your orbs into a box. I feel I ought to tell that your object will be periodically reminding you that it is still around with some simple spells. Good luck."
The class got a first hand lesson on the value of surprise as the orbs cast various harmless but effective spells on their targets and began to zoom about the room. Harry, Ron and Hermione having much more death defying experiences than the rest of the class never took their eyes off their orbs even while beset by stomach cramps, severe itching and wracking coughs. Harry stood leaning on his desk for support as his cramps subsided. Neville on numbed legs crawled away from his desk towards the windows to gain a better vantage point. Ron had the same idea and stood up on his chair. Hermione moved to stand by Professor McGonagall's desk which overlooked the entire classroom. The rest of the class was still trying to recover from the spells cast on them.
Those students who were able to do anything started casting their own spells. Harry's freezing spell grazed his target but due to his strong magic, the spell was very powerful and the orb froze in midair. He then transfigured it into a box. Hermione relying on triangulation cast four quick spells all around her target. Her target moved into one of the spells allowing Hermione to immediately change it into a box. Ron failed several attempts to hit his target directly. Instead he changed tactics and cast a series of spells that chased his target across the room. His orb collided with another orb. In the instance of collision, Ron cast his box spell. Neville waited patiently by the window observing the orbs in action. He realized that the orbs could only cast a spell when they were very close to their target. Keeping his wand hand at the ready and ignoring all the other objects whirling about. He cast his box spell when his orb got close enough.
McGonagall nodded at the four smiling her approval at their success then motioned for the four to stand by the window and let the others have a go at their targets. For a few minutes they watched as chaos ruled the classroom. No one else hit their targets though many students were valiant and inventive.
McGonagall pulled her wand out and cast a spell to have the balls attack her. The balls stopped in midair and streaked with some speed towards the headmistress. In a span of one minute, she picked off each orb or set of orbs in rapid succession with jaw dropping efficiency. The balls fell from the air floating to the ground as boxes big and small. One spell, one ball, one box.
"Expect an exercise similar to this at least once a week. I will not be announcing it beforehand as I did just now. As homework tonight, I want each of you to practice three different transfigurations two on inanimate objects and one on a live subject like a mouse. You will be tested on your transfigurations in one week. Class dismissed."
As the class filed out, they passed the headmaster who was standing by the doorway smiling at them in his indulgent way. He stopped Neville to ask "So, how did your box go?"
"Fair, sir. The corners were only slightly curvy," Neville answered with a grin.
"So, your tutoring is helping?" Albus rested his hand on the boys shoulder and gave Neville his full attention.
"Yes, Professor Snape has me doing memory exercises and changing the way I concentrate." Neville locked his spine, crossed his arms and lowered his voice then said, "You must remove the extraneous and focus only on that very moment and nothing else."
That got a chuckle out of Dumbledore and he let the boy go to join the rest of his class while he entered the lioness' den for a talk that both of them had been avoiding.
The rest of Neville's class was walking on ahead talking excitedly at the new turn their transfiguration class had made. While the class knew it was a valuable and fascinating skill, its rigors and demands never made it a popular class despite being taught by their own head of house. But now with the new added element of action and fun, the class had captured their attention.
"Hermione, please, I need tutoring on my spells," pleaded Finnigan. He wasn't the only one. Hermione was beset by requests and outright begging for homework help from Parvati, Lavender, Ron, Harry and Dean.
Ron was muttering "Tactics. We need to brush up on tactics to corner those little buggers."
"Ron's right. I don't think McGonagall is going to keep to the same as today. She's going to make it harder," said Harry and the others looked more desperate. "I can't wait myself. We don't have DADA this year and this is the next best thing."
Hermione announced "All right. I'll help anyone who needs it but on one condition." The others held their breath. "Each of you has to join SPEW. I'll even waive the membership dues."
"But, Hermione, SPEW ! I thought that you'd given up on that," Ron shrank from the patented Granger glare but Ron being Ron he rallied back quickly. "Well, Harry, Neville and I had to pay so should the others."
The banter went back and forth. But by the time they reached their next class Charms, Hermione had a roster of new SPEW members and a homework schedule, which unbeknownst to the membership at large, was also the schedule for house elf medic practice. She looked at the list and was about to pencil in Neville then thought better of it. There was something going on with Neville. Harry and Ron had commented that Neville was hardly ever in the common room and did not hang out with them much any more pleading homework or letters to write to his grandmother. Hermione knew that Club activities were eating into her own time. But she did wonder what the Intelligence team was doing.
Snape had requested and got Sybil's help on a few things but not hers. A small inner voice insisted strongly that she really didn't mind not knowing everything that was going on and that she did just want to help in any way she could. If Snape preferred Sybil's help, so be it. After all, she was already on loan to Arms and Armor and the medical team. She really didn't mind, no, not at all.
~ * ~
Professor Minerva McGonagall was a fair minded person blessed with an understanding heart but even she had her limits. The headmaster had exceeded those limits and well he knew it. Now as he closed the classroom door and cast a Circle of Anomi, he watched one of his oldest and closest friends faced him with anger and disappointment evident on her face.
"Minerva, let me explain why I ." Dumbledore got no further than that. Her hand whipped out granting him the hard slap that he truly deserved.
"You had no right to presume then force this ... this arrangement on me," Minerva raged. "I can feel Flavius all the time now. I can sense when he is nearby, when he is far away, when he wants me, needs me, when he is troubled. Last night, I think we even shared the same dream. It is intolerable!"
Albus rubbed his stinging cheek. He had the grace to look alarmed. "That's not what the other partners have told me it's like. Severus never said ."
"Severus wouldn't know, how could he? None of the other partners have had the history that Flavius and I have had." Minerva stood up to him. Her cool reserve laid in tatters about her.
"I thought this would get you two together and settle your differences," Dumbledore protested.
"No, that's not the real reason. Certainly not the first reason that came to mind. All these years, I've watched you advance your goals by manipulating people and circumstances. I was just a pawn to you in this as we all are in the grand plan. Go ahead and delude yourself with your misguided altruism," Minerva lashed out. "But you've changed into a cold man, Albus Dumbledore. Growing colder and harder every day! There will be nothing left of you after all this!"
Dumbledore stood there letting her words and her rage wash over him. He couldn't deny her words. Not when they were the truth. There was only one thing he could do. "Minerva, please forgive me, please. I had to do it. I'm sorry. I am. God help me, I would do it again."
"Why didn't you ask? Just asked me." Minerva's rage was spent and now she looked every one of her years. His heart cried out at seeing this. She cupped his face in her hands. "It isn't always about what you want, Albus. It's also about what's right to do. This wasn't right and it wasn't your decision to make."
Dumbledore had no answer. Minerva embraced him then and his eyes misted. They stood like that for some time. Forgiveness would not be given but understanding did heal the rift between them.
~ * ~
Walking down an unfamiliar corridor in the north tower that night, Neville Longbottom counted the pictures on the wall glancing down to read the instructions carefully. On the fifth picture, the stern figure asked him the password which was "Fear not that your life will someday end. Fear only that you do nothing with it."
A door appeared and opened into a large subtly inviting room. To his left stood several armoires the contents of which he could only guess at. To his right was a counter with two strange machines and several tall stools tucked underneath the counter. The opposite wall was lined with expansive windows equipped with cozy window seats overlooking the dark forest.
The far left wall was floor to ceiling shelves of what looked like thousands of ultra-miniaturized books. Close by a long desk and chairs stood ready to be used. On the right side of the room was an ornate fireplace. Solitary on the mantel, a crystal hourglass held court. The unusual sands - bright silver, blood red, emerald green, obsidian and azure blue - beckoned the eye. Above the mantel, framed in ebony was a large mirror whose surface had the patina and glaze that bespoke of great age. Standing in relief all around the frame were symbols of ancient magic. On opposite sides of the fireplace were two doors. A sofa and four plush leather armchairs arrayed around a low table facing the fireplace completed the room.
By the counter stood Professor Vector reading what looked like instructions while fiddling around with a machine. "Good evening, Mr. Longbottom. Have a cup of ambrosia," Vector said handing Neville a filled mug on his way to an armchair. The other machine was itself hissing and percolating ominously. "Cappucino, Neville, wonderful invention. I can't live without it. Severus prefers espresso though."
Following Vector's example, Neville sniffed and took a cautious sip. Though scalding he found the smooth, frothy taste appealing. Professor Snape came in from one of the side rooms holding a mug himself. He settled his lanky frame into a chair sighing as if at peace for the first time all day. In this way was begun a late evening ritual that in later years would be remembered fondly and well as oasis of calm and cameraderie.
Snape began the meeting. "You both know why I picked you. What others think, believe or say is of no consequence and no effect. Consider this room our official meeting room as well as team office. You may stake out a part of the room to use as your own. In fact, I encourage it. In this room, feel free to address each other by our given names. The library and many of the other objects in this room are family heirlooms and are at your disposal. The armoires contain clothing, charmed objects and other equipment that you may find as useful as I have. This room as well as the other side rooms are warded to allow muggle devices to function as intended. A Circle of Anomi is built into the rooms' wards. These rooms may also used by the other club members but you must accompany them at all times. The library and the armoires are keyed only to the three of us."
"This team will not tolerate any secrets or agendas that would interfere with our tasks and hinder our progress. I have learned to value true honesty. This is not honesty of the word as that does not exist. This is honesty of the soul a reflection of your character and steadfastness. Intelligence work as life is never a singular path littered with forthright answers nor marked by clear choices. But an honest soul will seek the right answers for the right reasons. You may not always choose the straightest or most correct direction but you will never lose sight of what answers you seek nor why you seek it."
"There are those rare individuals who never lose their sight nor their way. Others who take various paths but remain true to themselves. Then there are those who mistake their honesty for righteousness, wilfully lose all sense of direction by any moral compass and by virtue of circumstance and consequence are humbled to realize their error. I count myself in this latter category. Tonight, I am attendng a meeting. A meeting that had I never lost my way would probably never need to happen. I am going because of this."
Snape held his left arm out and pulled up his sleeve. The Dark Mark dominated his forearm. Its insidious snake's head looked poised to strike as alive and vital as the first time he had heeded its signal thereby making a lie of his reason, his honor and his future. "Somehow, I remembered my way back but the cost was ... is great. I can never fully be released from the service of this mark but I have learned to use it for the right reasons. I will most likely never find my answers and my future paths are limited by my past. But I received the grace of a second chance and for that -. For that, I can at least help those who forgave me. I turned spy many years ago and will continue until I am no longer needed or able."
"I've often wondered how Dumbledore knew so much of Voldemort's activities, now I see," Vector said without censure or judgment. Snape forced himself to look at Neville.
Neville sat still as a statue. While listening to Snape, he had stared hard at then traced around the snake's head as if accepting its undeniable reality. When he looked up, it was not with the eyes of a trusting adolescent. Looking at the boy, Snape was reminded of how he himself had felt when he first came to confess to Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore and Neville's father, Frank, Neville would never have lost his way.
"I need to know," Neville took a strong hold on Snape's outstretched arm and looked at the potions master directly. "Were you there when they cornered and tortured my parents?"
Snape found himself unable to speak. His words when they came were said in a trembling whisper "No, Neville. I was not there. "
"Did you know that they were being targeted?"
"No. If I had, I would have ... have ... done something ... anything."
"Who killed them?"
"I don't know. No one ever admitted to it." Neville's rational almost cold interrogation helped Snape regain his composure.
"How did you know?"
"The Daily Prophet the following day."
"Are you mentoring me because you feel responsible?"
"No." Snape admitted. "I am mentoring you for my own reasons. It's something else that I can do to help."
"I have something else you can do," Neville let go of Snape's arm. When he looked back at Snape it was with the eyes of someone decades older and wiser. "Help me find the ones who tortured my parents."
"So that you can go avenge yourself on them? I won't allow that. If that means - "
"I need to know ... just know," Neville explained. His posture was set and his gaze brooked no argument. "I want them to see what my parents are like now. I want them to see what they've done. And I have every right to ask you to do this."
Snape sat in his chair stiff and straight like a prisoner waiting for sentence. "By blood and birth, you have the right to demand much of me. I will help you find whoever they are but I won't let you get blood on your hands, understood? What else do you want?"
"Teach me to survive as you have," Neville sat placidly in his chair knowing that Snape could not refuse. "Don't shield me from anything. I need you to show me the wrong choices."
Snape stretched his arm and the two shook hands. Snape searched for any sign from Neville of anger and pain but found none. The firm handshake and grip made him realize that he had a very determined young man on his hands. Dumbledore had given him his second chance. A chance he was using to repair the present. But,Neville was his third chance. This time he was going to use it to for the future's sake.
"I have a feeling you're going to do just fine, Neville. Call me Calvin." Vector replied. He had gained more insight into his teammates in the last few minutes than he would have gleaned in a year. He realized that for Snape every day was a chance and a gift and that was why he drove himself and those around him as hard as he did. As for Neville, Snape had made a good choice after all. "This meeting tonight, Severus, what is it about and what can we do to help?"
Snape proceeded to tell them about Voldemort's plans in great detail. As he did so, he felt himself willingly unburdening more and more. He revealed his role in the creation of the Dark Mark. He told them about demon summoning, Demos and the volunteers.
Snape closed his eyes and slowly Demos emerged. Vector looked intrigued and Neville incredulous. "Demos, this is Professor Vector and Neville Longbottom." Demos looked at the two and said "A pleasure to meet Severus' help mates." Neville reached out and tried to touch Demos. Demos complied by turning more solid.
"Vector, please show Neville your companion," Snape instructed. He watched as Demos demonstrated his transitions to Neville.
Vector's companion shot out of him and flitted about the room eventually hovering near Demos.
"As you can see, Neville, Demos is very different than a companion. As with my mark, only the heads of house and yourselves know the full story about Demos. He and I are completely separate entities. I do not know what he does nor what he is thinking all the time and he certainly does not know what I do or what I think. We share some common traits and aptitudes. Demos has more active participation in our plans than the companions. He has taken many of the duties that I used to find tedious but necessary."
Neville had gotten over his incredulity at all that had transpired this evening and was making a second cup of cappucino. "What kinds of duties, Professor? He doesn't teach class does he?"
"No, not quite. He does most if not all of my night patrols of the castle. His ability to phase through walls certainly comes in handy. Most students know my voice and that is usually enough to send them scurrying," Snape said with some pride. "Besides my patrols, he also assists Filch and the Baron in their work and Dumbledore borrows him occasionally. And Demos harvests my potions supplies in the Forest."
"Calvin, does your companion have a name like Demos does?" Neville asked.
"It picked its own name, actually." Ventured Vector. "Seems to be a popular name among the muggles especially where I go to raise funds."
"Yes, Calvin, where do you disappear off to, anyway?" Snape asked now fully relaxed and mellow.
"A wondrous place. It's called Las Vegas. It's in the States." Vector explained.
"What do you do in Las ... Las Ve-gas?" asked Neville pronouncing the word carefully.
Vector's normally neutral face came to life as he launched into a description of how he applied mathematical principles in the many different and magnificent financial establishements in the city. Being a wizard had advantages, of course, and with his math skills, he often went overboard and raised funds past the establishment's limits. "But the muggles are very nice about it, really. They just put me into a room to cool off. They even call it the cooler. Then I signal for pick up and wait until Sinistra shows up via the new transport network. I'm exploring other places ideal for fundraising just for variety."
Vector then explained the origin of his companion's name. "In Las Vegas, there are muggles who entertain and dance about. You see them everywhere being helpful and they sing very well, too. My companion named itself after them because it sees itself as my helper. If you need help, call Elvis."
Demos pointed out the window in the direction of the forest where flashes of light could be seen the night.
"It's Professor McGonagall's team practice, Demos. I passed them going out an hour ago. She and some of the other female staff members are forming groups to practice group attacks and dueling. One team led by her and the other by Hooch. After practicing and training, they plan to have a mock battle in a few weeks. I actually feel sorry for Hooch." Snape commented.
"Why? Hooch is incredibly quick not to mention younger," asked Vector.
"Minerva is experienced enough to know how to lure her enemies in. She's also one of the fastest spell casters I've ever seen. Hooch will be so busy dodging rapid fire spells and curses that she won't manage to get the offense going. I'll take a smart, determined woman over one who relies solely on physical abilities and charms any day." Snape informed Vector. "Besides, Minerva has a lot of, shall we say, supressed energy, to spend. She won't hesitate to be vicious."
"Aren't we going to get some practice in as well?" Neville inquired.
"As a matter of fact, we are going to form groups and have our own mock battle. Then the winning captains will form two new teams of the best performers of the mock battles, male vs female, in a simulated war game. Those who are not on the field are going to be support personnel doing everything from dirty tricks campaigns to sabotage to supply. Albus will serve as judge."
"So who are the men's captains, Severus?" Vector asked.
"As it happens, Flitwick and myself are designated captains. As such, my Intelligence team is automatically on my battle team. Personally, I'm looking forward to meeting Minerva on the field."
Neville pointed out. "I'd hate to face Hermione. Hermione can be mean."
"Ms Granger?" said Snape disbelieving.
"Oh, yes. None of us Gryffindors cross her seriously. Not even Harry and especially not Ron." Neville confided. "One look is all it takes."
"Ms Granger does not strike me as being physically aggressive, verbally, yes, but not physically assertive," Snape said.
"Well, not usually. The thing with her is if you cross her, she won't forget or forgive easily," Neville explained. "And she's so smart that whatever it is, you know her revenge is going to be gruesome."
"Indeed. I should then consider myself a marked man, then, considering how I treat your class and all Gryffindors," Snape observed.
"I can see what Neville means. Her dead stubborn bloodymindedness has been amply demonstrated in my classes when a problem eludes her. It's always the quiet, ones you have to watch out for," said Vector.
"Sybil can be a handful, too," said Snape earning a curious look and an arched brow from Vector which was studiously ignored. "Don't underestimate her."
In the dark forest, the ladies in question were scrambling about heedless of dirty faces, mud-stained shoes, torn robes or protesting muscles. McGonagall, Trelawney and Granger were focused on the three rules of Spell Tag - hit often, keep moving and keep the questions for later. The point was to survive until the odds were better or in your favor entirely. They had started in a triangle configuration and that quickly devolved into a guerilla, catch-me-if-you-can-before-I-get-to-you scenario.
Surprisingly, Minerva was the least tired of the three. She had suggested this exercise as a way to let off some tension while waiting for Snape's meeting. She bided her time standing behind an expansive oak tree listening and watching as the younger two hunted each other. And hunting it was with Sybil and Hermione taking turns being the hunted and the prey each trying to get the better of the other. The two were evenly matched. Sybil had been a very good player in her youth but she was out of practice. Hermione, though a newcomer, was a quick learner and there was nothing wrong with her innate survival instincts.
Sybil was using her companion to keep tabs on Minerva's whereabouts. She knew she would have a difficult time with her mentor so she wanted to even the odds by getting rid of Hermione first. Unfortunately, that was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. Hermione was using her size and quickness to hide very effectively. Sybil herself had been taken completely by surprise once. Hermione suddenly appeared only a few meters away and shot three quick spells at her. Surprised, Sybil had barely enough time to block the younger woman's spells and answer back with her own. She now respected this particular student more for her cunning than her scholarly aptitude.
She had to end this soon before her stamina gave out. The girl is too quick by half. Sibyl transfigured a few leaves into coughing bombs and let them loose in a circle pattern over the clearing where she suspected Hermione was hiding. Then she created a few light cracking bombs to explode in time with the coughing bombs. Preparing herself with a few spells, she activated the bombs.
Hermione was overcome by the fumes. She ran out of the clearing into bright light exposed and straight into Sybil's sights. Hermione saw the spells coming but kept moving forward blocking spells or avoiding them by swerving, crawling and ducking but never stopping.
Minerva watched her two proteges deep in concentration. One launching spell after spell with hardly a pause while the other dexterously avoided the spell she could and blocked the ones she couldn't. Finally, both females stood facing each other half in shadow and half in blinding light. Both said "Expelliarmus!" Their spells hit successfully and both were thrown off their feet. As the two hit the ground, Minerva cast her own spell over the two "Petrificus Totalis!"
She walked out from behind her oak and clapped her hands. "Excellently done, ladies. I believe I win this round though. Lesson one never obsess on one target to the detriment of your own position." She ended the spell and her proteges joined her rubbing aching joints and other pains.
"When do we do this again?" Hermione looked fresh and alert. The adrenalin was high and she felt like she could go a few more rounds.
"I definitely need the practice," Sibyl said. While not as energetic as Hermione, Sibyl was too keyed up herself to rest anytime soon.
"How about once a week?" Minerva suggested and the other two agreed. As they walked back to the castle, she was reminded of a task that needed completing. "Hermione, I need you to do something."
"Of course, what is it?" Hermione asked.
"There is to be a trustees meeting next week. Normally, I or another head of house helps Albus draft a brief describing our activities for the term. With everything going on, I'm afraid no one has even started on the draft. Can you go to the various staff members and interview them briefly on their curriculums?"
"Not a problem."
"Thank you. And when you're done, please pass the draft to Professor Snape for review."
"Professor Snape? The draft will end up dripping in sarcasm!"
"The brief has to be worded just so for the trustees' consumption. Severus has a demonstrated flare for knowing how to say very little in a lot of seemingly meaningful paragraphs." Minerva added.
"You will find that Severus' sarcasm when properly packaged can disarm the most hostile of audiences without them even knowing it." Sybil added.
Hermione laughed at this. "He's certainly wordy but you can't help hanging on to his every word."
"Exactly! His wit and sarcasm soars when he knows there's a captive audience. If the man is not vain about his appearance, he is most certainly vain about others paying him due attention on his terms."
The ladies laughter echoed into the night.
Back in his rooms, Snape prepared for his meeting. In his sitting area were two large jugs filled with the paste that would allow the re-branding of the old dark marks. He was waiting for Flitwick and Filch. Tonight, for the first time, he would take Demos with him at Albus' direct order. Snape got the distinct impression that Dumbledore had separate orders for Demos that he knew nothing about. Flitwick and Filch would trail him to the meeting site in animal forms. If things went horribly wrong, Flitwick and Filch had direct orders to make their presence known and drag Snape back to Hogwarts preferably alive. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Vector, Sinistra and Ollivander would be waiting outside of Hogwarts' gates ready to apparate to the meeting site if more help was needed. Sprout, Trelawney, Pomfrey, Hooch, Hagrid and Pince were on alert in case the Death Eaters retaliated and followed the team back to Hogwarts. Granger and Longbottom were staying up and on call in their common room that night.
Snape buttoned on his robes eschewing some of the protective clothing he normally wore to these meetings. He would have to be able to move quickly tonight. He inserted a spare wand in his boot and shrank another wand which he hid in an inner pocket. He checked his belt buckle a transfigured port key courtesy of Minerva that would transport him instantly back to Hogwarts if needed. His buttons looked all right. Only he knew that each one had properties that would either get him out of trouble or make sure that trouble didn't reach him. Lastly, he drank several draughts of strong, time released healing elixir. It usually alleviated the effects of Cruciatus enough to keep him lucid.
Either everything went right or everything went wrong, he mused, no different than any other meeting. He could feel the buildup of manic anticipatory energy. But this time, the stakes were infinitely higher and that sobered him. No mistakes tonight, not even a slip. He must not make any mistakes.