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Chapter 17
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"So you're alone this time," Sirius said as he watched Snape enter the laboratory. It was annoying to be strung up in a place and only half remember what was going on.
"Nice to know you still have some of that memory left," Snape stated. The Potions Master immediately went about doing whatever needed to be done on the worktable. Sirius didn't really know what was happening, but he knew Snape was behind it all, and that Malfoy usually came to enjoy the aftermath.
But this time, there had been no Malfoy, which he was glad of, only Snape, whom he could easily overtake once he figured out how to get out of the manacles. He was the only wizard ever to have escaped from Azkaban, so why was this proving to be so difficult? 'Perhaps it's because you're chained, and they're shoving some sort of potion down your throat,' he thought. Why had he forgotten that?
"So, what are you working on?" he asked. He didn't really know what prompted his decision to start up a conversation, but it was the first time he had had someone to talk to who wasn't going to torture him. He was feeling kind of lonely down there. He had to be desperate if he was volunteering to talk to Snape.
"Will you be quiet?" came the preoccupied and annoyed snap.
"What? I was just curious."
"Do shut up." Snape's voice was a little more commanding, but Sirius couldn't see much past his small indention. A little movement here a little there. He was in some corner looking out.
"Sheesh, what's wrong with you?" he said aloud, mainly mumbling to himself for a lack of a more fulfilling activity.
"I find it incredibly irritating to try and carry on a conversation whilst brewing a potion. So kindly shut up."
Then why didn't Snape just cast a silencing spell like Malfoy had? Was that really a memory? Why had he forgotten it before? And why was he talking to Snape? And why on earth was Snape talking back?
Snape equaled Death Eater equaled traitor equaled bad guy equaled slimy, annoying git.
So it was either keep talking and risk the possibility of being silenced, or watch and hopefully remember something of what was happening. Of course maybe Snape was responding because he had forgotten whom he was talking to. He certainly wasn't looking in his direction. Maybe Snape thought Malfoy had entered. Certainly not out of the question. But unlikely.
So he opted to watch. At least he no longer had the boring task of watching lifeless gray walls. But compared to watching Snape, he might well have been staring at the walls. Snape would stand motionless for what seemed like hours on end doing nothing but watching the potion simmer. Sirius thought he would fall asleep if it went on any longer.
He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew was that Snape was holding a cup out to him.
"Drink this," was all he said.
"What? You're not going to force it down my throat?"
"Things would go a lot smoother if you would just drink it," Snape sounded annoyed, but when did he not?
"What is it?"
"A truth serum, Black. Now drink." Sirius complied. Vaguely he recalled having to drink some other sort of potion. Administered by Malfoy. He was fairly certain that was another memory. As was Snape standing around enjoying the show. Or was that Malfoy? He really shouldn't be confusing those two.
Sirius found himself swallowing the potion before he realized it. "What d'you do that for?" he sputtered.
"Merely took advantage of your lapse," Snape said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "And by the way you lapped it up I'd say you were quite thirsty."
"You'd be too if you were chained here day in and day out," he spat out. Sirius finally seemed realize that there was no reason in hell to be on speaking terms with his captor.
"Marvelous, I see the potion is working already," Snape replied tonelessly. "Not that I ever doubted it."
"You really need to get out more, Snape," Sirius taunted. "How many nights has it been?"
"Far too many. Why can't you be a good dog and forget?"
"Do I detect a hint of humor?" Snape ignored him. But at least Sirius wasn't bored out his mind anymore, nor was he being used to entertain Malfoy. He was able to bait Snape, though the object of ridicule did not seem to want to rise to the bait. Something told him that his insults weren't working either.
"Do you know why you are here?"
"No," he said before he thought about it. Must be a different type of serum. He vaguely recalled one that pained him the more he resisted. This one didn't give him time to resist. And the more he thought, the less he seemed to know about his situation. He honestly did not know why he was here. He could guess, and most likely not be too far off the mark, but he truly didn't know.
"Do you know how you came here?"
"No." Again he spoke before he could put his thoughts to words. How did he come here? The last thing he remembered was writing a letter to Dumbledore about his last completed mission. The one where he found Julian Mills strangled in his apartment. After that, nothing.
"Do you know how long you have been here?"
"No." He wanted to add that he already asked how long he had been there, however the serum wouldn't allow that.
"Do you recall what happened yesterday?"
"You and Malfoy were here," Sirius said, disgusted. "Forced me to drink some sort of potion. Nasty thing."
"Do you recall why you had to drink that potion?"
"No." Where was he going with this? Sirius doubted if he was going to get the answers out of Snape, who seemed content just to ask questions, with no desire for their answers.
"Well, it seems you have forgotten something. Let us see if we can completely block out the rest of this ordeal," Snape said returning to his worktable.
Sirius could only look at him, watching. He wanted to yell at Snape and strangle him, but the potion kept him as quiet as a mouse. He was trapped with no recollection of what had occurred, and his jailer was none other than Severus Snape. Sirius had nothing to go on. He hadn't even been concerned for his memory until Snape started questioning it.
Snape was returning, holding a goblet full of another potion. Deja vu all over again. He knew he should know what was in that goblet. He should know, but that entire thought was lost to him. And he couldn't even protest! He knew this wasn't going to be good, but he couldn't do anything.
"Drink this." And he swallowed whatever it was. It didn't taste that bad, but it did burn all the way down his throat. And not just burn. It felt as if some acid was eating away at his esophagus. He wanted to rip his own throat out just to stop the sensation. Chains clattered. His arms were chained to the wall. How could he bloody forget that?
He must have blacked out. He was staring at the floor blearily as though trying to clear his head from some unexpected blow. Then he saw Snape. The git was staring at him as if he were nothing more than a lab rat. He was the cause of all of this. He just knew it. Struggling had no effect. He was still chained to the wall. Still? When and how long had been chained here? For that matter, why was Snape here? And where the hell was here?
He would not panic. No, panic would be a bad thing. He would figure this out rationally. Too bad rationality had never been his strong point. He kind of liked panic. No. He would ask Snape if he had to. He would know why he was here.
He snapped his head up at hearing the door open. Who would be coming in? Shouldn't Snape be leaving? But one look at that greasy traitor told him otherwise. He was bending his body to kneel. It was disgusting. The Snape he knew did not willingly fall to the floor in worship. It was degrading. Snape would sooner spit on you than bend knee. What he was seeing was impossible. And he couldn't even remark upon it.
"What is the progress, Severus?" Voldemort asked, looking at him, and not at the man at his feet. Sirius tried to shrink from the red eyes boring holes through his skull.
"There is one more dose for tonight, my Lord," Snape answered reverently. That was just sick. No self-respecting man would ever lower himself to that point. It was despicable. "After you perform the curse, my Lord, we can see how his memory and control stand up over the next day."
"So," Voldemort started as he walked around Snape straight for Sirius. "You have been successful this time?"
"It is hard to say, Master," Snape said rising. Sirius wanted to puke. It was bad enough to know your worst enemy was a traitor, but to see it in practice was another thing entirely. "Black has been extremely difficult."
"So that is why it has taken you so long," came a dangerous hiss. "I need not remind you of the price of failure in this endeavor." Still Voldemort hadn't taken his eyes off Sirius.
"No, my Lord," Snape said, half bowing. But Sirius had a hard time not focusing on the hideous face before him. So this was the Dark Lord everyone was afraid of. And they had a right to be. The man was down right terrifying to look at. Glowing red eyes and scaly skin. He didn't even look human.
"You have a potion to tend to, Severus," Voldemort snapped.
"Yes, my Lord." Sirius didn't see Snape move away, but knew he must have. He was too busy trying to look away from You-Know-Who. And not succeeding.
"Now, Sirius," the Dark Lord hissed. Wait. He shouldn't be calling that monster THAT. "I believe it is time we had a little discussion about your position. Namely how it occurred to me to use you as a decoy. It is quite a marvelous thing, the press. So willing to believe the slightest rumor. I suppose that is why they were so willing to believe Wormtail. Though I never expected them to label you as my Right Hand and Most Loyal Death Eater. Surprised and amused. But rumors will be rectified. As you will be a Death Eater soon. No doubt before the week is out."
No. He was not a Death Eater! He never had been. Pettigrew had framed him. He was certain of that. No amount of memory lapse would make him forget that. They had just better be glad they never let Wormtail near him. Snape was bad enough, but he had been friends with Pettigrew.
"You don't like my little plan?" Voldemort asked, seeing Sirius squirm. Sirius wanted to scream bloody murder, but that potion Snape gave him was working too well.
Someone cleared his throat to announce his presence. Thankfully Voldemort turned to see who was there. "My Lord," Snape began. "It is time for the next dose."
"See to it."
Sirius watched as his childhood enemy turned traitor approached. He knew that potion was not good. He didn't know why. Nor what it was. Just that he shouldn't drink it. How many times had he drunk it? Probably far too many. He would not drink it again. The goblet was put to his lips and he took the acid liquid into his mouth. But he did not swallow. He waited for the cup to be removed. He had to do this quickly. Snape lowered the cup and waited. It was too perfect. He spit the entire contents into Snape's face. Beautiful. The scowl the traitorous git was wearing was priceless. The only downfall was that the liquid didn't seem to harm his skin. Pity.
"It is a wonder you have made it this far, Severus." Did the Dark Lord sound amused? Sirius shivered at the thought. "Perhaps he would make an exceptional Right Hand after all."
Snape glowered even more at his master's comment. Sirius actually smiled. Humiliate the greasy git in front of the monster he worshipped. Snape, however, did not retaliate. He simply reached out his hand and waited for another, fresh goblet of potion to arrive. All through wandless magic. Spooky as it was, it was nothing compared to the look on Voldemort's face as he watched the exchange. The monster knew about that talent! It was actually smiling.
He never heard the curse that forced him to convulsively swallow. Nor did he have time to protest against the potion. But he did hear Voldemort speak a curse. One he did not remember ever hearing. "Impero Pareo Quamtotius."
* * * * * * * *
Severus Snape slammed the door to his chambers shut with a vengeance. He was surprised the wood didn't shatter with the force. It was the forth time this week that his report had been interrupted. He knew who had to be doing it. His master, the Dark Lord. It appeared his master did not want him to explain anything more than who was captured and that the man was still alive. He wished he knew what was in those letters.
Maybe then he would know how to approach Dumbledore. Those letters were a blessing in one respect. They interrupted just before Dumbledore could interrogate him further. But they were a curse. He did not know what the letters contained and he suspected they were taunts. Words that would keep up suspicion. And they always interrupted when he felt ready to tell the Headmaster.
He hadn't yet.
"Rough night?"
He spun toward the voice. He already knew who it was, but the thing still startled him. "Irvan! What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I saw what happened tonight," the vampire said quietly. It was hard to detect any emotion from that creature, but if anything Severus would have called it concern. "And what happened four nights ago."
"How?" was his first instinct, then realization hit. "Potter." He sunk into the nearest chair, which was conveniently located directly across from the vampire. "What does he know?" He decided he would be practical about the whole thing. For as long as he could.
"He knows nothing, Severus," Irvan said, finally turning away from the cold hearth. "I've been able to keep him from seeing any part of the visions. And I have not told Dumbledore anything, if that is what you are wondering. But they have to know."
"I know that, Irvan," he said testily. Of course he knew that. But he didn't want the accusations that were going to follow. "I've tried. But every time I speak to the Headmaster after a meeting, the same owl appears with a letter and then he kicks me out. I don't know how to, anyway."
"I find that when you don't know how, one word at a time works best."
Severus glared spitefully at the vampire. "I do not need you patronizing me."
"And believe it or not, I'm not. I am merely telling you how to go about telling Dumbledore. And thanking the Gods of Mount Olympus that this is not my problem."
"Telling Dumbledore face to face will not win me any favors."
"Then find a way to tell him without speaking directly to him. If I am not mistaken the Ministry is keen to pull you away from Hogwarts."
"I will not appear as if I am running away."
"But isn't that what you are doing? Trying to run from what you know needs to be done?"
"Irvan, for one time in your life, stay out of it," he warned. He wasn't too interested in having an animal give him advice.
Unperturbed, Irvan turned back to the fireplace. "Things like this have ways of coming to light. And those ways are never to the benefit of the perpetrator. You should tell him on your own terms."
"What did you come down here for?" Severus asked tiredly.
"To tell you that Voldemort and Lucius are far too interested in your business with the Ministry. I believe he will use whatever information the Ministry does receive against you."
"Thank you for the warning. I'll be sure to keep it in mind," he sneered.
"Severus, you should take this seriously. Why in the name of Hades are you playing this so lightly?"
"Because I already know that Lucius and the Dark Lord would prefer to see me rot in their dungeons, but the Dark Lord knows he could never get someone as close to Dumbledore as I am. He likes to know that he is giving Dumbledore the information that he wants to give." Severus smiled cruelly. "If anything, the only thing keeping me alive is my potions skill and my place at Hogwarts. And until they can prove that I am actively against them, they'll do nothing but regulate information."
"But the Ministry?"
"Eventually they will listen to Dumbledore, once they discover I know nothing. They can't pin any of the recent murders on me and they know it."
"Blood and bloody ashes," Irvan muttered. "I still don't understand how you can be so calm about all of this."
Severus briefly considered replying, but decided against it. His time would be put to better use with a shower and a bed. He wanted some sleep after tonight. But to his horror, Irvan's words haunted him. 'Things like this have ways of coming to light.' Merlin burn him alive if that wasn't true. But how do you go about telling the only man who trusts you that you created the mind-controlling potion that is turning you favored golden prodigal son into a fully bound servant of his arch enemy? And he still didn't know how Black was going to be used.
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I would like to thank to my beta, The Goddess Artemis.
Chapter 17
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"So you're alone this time," Sirius said as he watched Snape enter the laboratory. It was annoying to be strung up in a place and only half remember what was going on.
"Nice to know you still have some of that memory left," Snape stated. The Potions Master immediately went about doing whatever needed to be done on the worktable. Sirius didn't really know what was happening, but he knew Snape was behind it all, and that Malfoy usually came to enjoy the aftermath.
But this time, there had been no Malfoy, which he was glad of, only Snape, whom he could easily overtake once he figured out how to get out of the manacles. He was the only wizard ever to have escaped from Azkaban, so why was this proving to be so difficult? 'Perhaps it's because you're chained, and they're shoving some sort of potion down your throat,' he thought. Why had he forgotten that?
"So, what are you working on?" he asked. He didn't really know what prompted his decision to start up a conversation, but it was the first time he had had someone to talk to who wasn't going to torture him. He was feeling kind of lonely down there. He had to be desperate if he was volunteering to talk to Snape.
"Will you be quiet?" came the preoccupied and annoyed snap.
"What? I was just curious."
"Do shut up." Snape's voice was a little more commanding, but Sirius couldn't see much past his small indention. A little movement here a little there. He was in some corner looking out.
"Sheesh, what's wrong with you?" he said aloud, mainly mumbling to himself for a lack of a more fulfilling activity.
"I find it incredibly irritating to try and carry on a conversation whilst brewing a potion. So kindly shut up."
Then why didn't Snape just cast a silencing spell like Malfoy had? Was that really a memory? Why had he forgotten it before? And why was he talking to Snape? And why on earth was Snape talking back?
Snape equaled Death Eater equaled traitor equaled bad guy equaled slimy, annoying git.
So it was either keep talking and risk the possibility of being silenced, or watch and hopefully remember something of what was happening. Of course maybe Snape was responding because he had forgotten whom he was talking to. He certainly wasn't looking in his direction. Maybe Snape thought Malfoy had entered. Certainly not out of the question. But unlikely.
So he opted to watch. At least he no longer had the boring task of watching lifeless gray walls. But compared to watching Snape, he might well have been staring at the walls. Snape would stand motionless for what seemed like hours on end doing nothing but watching the potion simmer. Sirius thought he would fall asleep if it went on any longer.
He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew was that Snape was holding a cup out to him.
"Drink this," was all he said.
"What? You're not going to force it down my throat?"
"Things would go a lot smoother if you would just drink it," Snape sounded annoyed, but when did he not?
"What is it?"
"A truth serum, Black. Now drink." Sirius complied. Vaguely he recalled having to drink some other sort of potion. Administered by Malfoy. He was fairly certain that was another memory. As was Snape standing around enjoying the show. Or was that Malfoy? He really shouldn't be confusing those two.
Sirius found himself swallowing the potion before he realized it. "What d'you do that for?" he sputtered.
"Merely took advantage of your lapse," Snape said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "And by the way you lapped it up I'd say you were quite thirsty."
"You'd be too if you were chained here day in and day out," he spat out. Sirius finally seemed realize that there was no reason in hell to be on speaking terms with his captor.
"Marvelous, I see the potion is working already," Snape replied tonelessly. "Not that I ever doubted it."
"You really need to get out more, Snape," Sirius taunted. "How many nights has it been?"
"Far too many. Why can't you be a good dog and forget?"
"Do I detect a hint of humor?" Snape ignored him. But at least Sirius wasn't bored out his mind anymore, nor was he being used to entertain Malfoy. He was able to bait Snape, though the object of ridicule did not seem to want to rise to the bait. Something told him that his insults weren't working either.
"Do you know why you are here?"
"No," he said before he thought about it. Must be a different type of serum. He vaguely recalled one that pained him the more he resisted. This one didn't give him time to resist. And the more he thought, the less he seemed to know about his situation. He honestly did not know why he was here. He could guess, and most likely not be too far off the mark, but he truly didn't know.
"Do you know how you came here?"
"No." Again he spoke before he could put his thoughts to words. How did he come here? The last thing he remembered was writing a letter to Dumbledore about his last completed mission. The one where he found Julian Mills strangled in his apartment. After that, nothing.
"Do you know how long you have been here?"
"No." He wanted to add that he already asked how long he had been there, however the serum wouldn't allow that.
"Do you recall what happened yesterday?"
"You and Malfoy were here," Sirius said, disgusted. "Forced me to drink some sort of potion. Nasty thing."
"Do you recall why you had to drink that potion?"
"No." Where was he going with this? Sirius doubted if he was going to get the answers out of Snape, who seemed content just to ask questions, with no desire for their answers.
"Well, it seems you have forgotten something. Let us see if we can completely block out the rest of this ordeal," Snape said returning to his worktable.
Sirius could only look at him, watching. He wanted to yell at Snape and strangle him, but the potion kept him as quiet as a mouse. He was trapped with no recollection of what had occurred, and his jailer was none other than Severus Snape. Sirius had nothing to go on. He hadn't even been concerned for his memory until Snape started questioning it.
Snape was returning, holding a goblet full of another potion. Deja vu all over again. He knew he should know what was in that goblet. He should know, but that entire thought was lost to him. And he couldn't even protest! He knew this wasn't going to be good, but he couldn't do anything.
"Drink this." And he swallowed whatever it was. It didn't taste that bad, but it did burn all the way down his throat. And not just burn. It felt as if some acid was eating away at his esophagus. He wanted to rip his own throat out just to stop the sensation. Chains clattered. His arms were chained to the wall. How could he bloody forget that?
He must have blacked out. He was staring at the floor blearily as though trying to clear his head from some unexpected blow. Then he saw Snape. The git was staring at him as if he were nothing more than a lab rat. He was the cause of all of this. He just knew it. Struggling had no effect. He was still chained to the wall. Still? When and how long had been chained here? For that matter, why was Snape here? And where the hell was here?
He would not panic. No, panic would be a bad thing. He would figure this out rationally. Too bad rationality had never been his strong point. He kind of liked panic. No. He would ask Snape if he had to. He would know why he was here.
He snapped his head up at hearing the door open. Who would be coming in? Shouldn't Snape be leaving? But one look at that greasy traitor told him otherwise. He was bending his body to kneel. It was disgusting. The Snape he knew did not willingly fall to the floor in worship. It was degrading. Snape would sooner spit on you than bend knee. What he was seeing was impossible. And he couldn't even remark upon it.
"What is the progress, Severus?" Voldemort asked, looking at him, and not at the man at his feet. Sirius tried to shrink from the red eyes boring holes through his skull.
"There is one more dose for tonight, my Lord," Snape answered reverently. That was just sick. No self-respecting man would ever lower himself to that point. It was despicable. "After you perform the curse, my Lord, we can see how his memory and control stand up over the next day."
"So," Voldemort started as he walked around Snape straight for Sirius. "You have been successful this time?"
"It is hard to say, Master," Snape said rising. Sirius wanted to puke. It was bad enough to know your worst enemy was a traitor, but to see it in practice was another thing entirely. "Black has been extremely difficult."
"So that is why it has taken you so long," came a dangerous hiss. "I need not remind you of the price of failure in this endeavor." Still Voldemort hadn't taken his eyes off Sirius.
"No, my Lord," Snape said, half bowing. But Sirius had a hard time not focusing on the hideous face before him. So this was the Dark Lord everyone was afraid of. And they had a right to be. The man was down right terrifying to look at. Glowing red eyes and scaly skin. He didn't even look human.
"You have a potion to tend to, Severus," Voldemort snapped.
"Yes, my Lord." Sirius didn't see Snape move away, but knew he must have. He was too busy trying to look away from You-Know-Who. And not succeeding.
"Now, Sirius," the Dark Lord hissed. Wait. He shouldn't be calling that monster THAT. "I believe it is time we had a little discussion about your position. Namely how it occurred to me to use you as a decoy. It is quite a marvelous thing, the press. So willing to believe the slightest rumor. I suppose that is why they were so willing to believe Wormtail. Though I never expected them to label you as my Right Hand and Most Loyal Death Eater. Surprised and amused. But rumors will be rectified. As you will be a Death Eater soon. No doubt before the week is out."
No. He was not a Death Eater! He never had been. Pettigrew had framed him. He was certain of that. No amount of memory lapse would make him forget that. They had just better be glad they never let Wormtail near him. Snape was bad enough, but he had been friends with Pettigrew.
"You don't like my little plan?" Voldemort asked, seeing Sirius squirm. Sirius wanted to scream bloody murder, but that potion Snape gave him was working too well.
Someone cleared his throat to announce his presence. Thankfully Voldemort turned to see who was there. "My Lord," Snape began. "It is time for the next dose."
"See to it."
Sirius watched as his childhood enemy turned traitor approached. He knew that potion was not good. He didn't know why. Nor what it was. Just that he shouldn't drink it. How many times had he drunk it? Probably far too many. He would not drink it again. The goblet was put to his lips and he took the acid liquid into his mouth. But he did not swallow. He waited for the cup to be removed. He had to do this quickly. Snape lowered the cup and waited. It was too perfect. He spit the entire contents into Snape's face. Beautiful. The scowl the traitorous git was wearing was priceless. The only downfall was that the liquid didn't seem to harm his skin. Pity.
"It is a wonder you have made it this far, Severus." Did the Dark Lord sound amused? Sirius shivered at the thought. "Perhaps he would make an exceptional Right Hand after all."
Snape glowered even more at his master's comment. Sirius actually smiled. Humiliate the greasy git in front of the monster he worshipped. Snape, however, did not retaliate. He simply reached out his hand and waited for another, fresh goblet of potion to arrive. All through wandless magic. Spooky as it was, it was nothing compared to the look on Voldemort's face as he watched the exchange. The monster knew about that talent! It was actually smiling.
He never heard the curse that forced him to convulsively swallow. Nor did he have time to protest against the potion. But he did hear Voldemort speak a curse. One he did not remember ever hearing. "Impero Pareo Quamtotius."
* * * * * * * *
Severus Snape slammed the door to his chambers shut with a vengeance. He was surprised the wood didn't shatter with the force. It was the forth time this week that his report had been interrupted. He knew who had to be doing it. His master, the Dark Lord. It appeared his master did not want him to explain anything more than who was captured and that the man was still alive. He wished he knew what was in those letters.
Maybe then he would know how to approach Dumbledore. Those letters were a blessing in one respect. They interrupted just before Dumbledore could interrogate him further. But they were a curse. He did not know what the letters contained and he suspected they were taunts. Words that would keep up suspicion. And they always interrupted when he felt ready to tell the Headmaster.
He hadn't yet.
"Rough night?"
He spun toward the voice. He already knew who it was, but the thing still startled him. "Irvan! What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I saw what happened tonight," the vampire said quietly. It was hard to detect any emotion from that creature, but if anything Severus would have called it concern. "And what happened four nights ago."
"How?" was his first instinct, then realization hit. "Potter." He sunk into the nearest chair, which was conveniently located directly across from the vampire. "What does he know?" He decided he would be practical about the whole thing. For as long as he could.
"He knows nothing, Severus," Irvan said, finally turning away from the cold hearth. "I've been able to keep him from seeing any part of the visions. And I have not told Dumbledore anything, if that is what you are wondering. But they have to know."
"I know that, Irvan," he said testily. Of course he knew that. But he didn't want the accusations that were going to follow. "I've tried. But every time I speak to the Headmaster after a meeting, the same owl appears with a letter and then he kicks me out. I don't know how to, anyway."
"I find that when you don't know how, one word at a time works best."
Severus glared spitefully at the vampire. "I do not need you patronizing me."
"And believe it or not, I'm not. I am merely telling you how to go about telling Dumbledore. And thanking the Gods of Mount Olympus that this is not my problem."
"Telling Dumbledore face to face will not win me any favors."
"Then find a way to tell him without speaking directly to him. If I am not mistaken the Ministry is keen to pull you away from Hogwarts."
"I will not appear as if I am running away."
"But isn't that what you are doing? Trying to run from what you know needs to be done?"
"Irvan, for one time in your life, stay out of it," he warned. He wasn't too interested in having an animal give him advice.
Unperturbed, Irvan turned back to the fireplace. "Things like this have ways of coming to light. And those ways are never to the benefit of the perpetrator. You should tell him on your own terms."
"What did you come down here for?" Severus asked tiredly.
"To tell you that Voldemort and Lucius are far too interested in your business with the Ministry. I believe he will use whatever information the Ministry does receive against you."
"Thank you for the warning. I'll be sure to keep it in mind," he sneered.
"Severus, you should take this seriously. Why in the name of Hades are you playing this so lightly?"
"Because I already know that Lucius and the Dark Lord would prefer to see me rot in their dungeons, but the Dark Lord knows he could never get someone as close to Dumbledore as I am. He likes to know that he is giving Dumbledore the information that he wants to give." Severus smiled cruelly. "If anything, the only thing keeping me alive is my potions skill and my place at Hogwarts. And until they can prove that I am actively against them, they'll do nothing but regulate information."
"But the Ministry?"
"Eventually they will listen to Dumbledore, once they discover I know nothing. They can't pin any of the recent murders on me and they know it."
"Blood and bloody ashes," Irvan muttered. "I still don't understand how you can be so calm about all of this."
Severus briefly considered replying, but decided against it. His time would be put to better use with a shower and a bed. He wanted some sleep after tonight. But to his horror, Irvan's words haunted him. 'Things like this have ways of coming to light.' Merlin burn him alive if that wasn't true. But how do you go about telling the only man who trusts you that you created the mind-controlling potion that is turning you favored golden prodigal son into a fully bound servant of his arch enemy? And he still didn't know how Black was going to be used.
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I would like to thank to my beta, The Goddess Artemis.