Author's Note: FINALLY! I'm so, so sorry that I have taken so long to continue this story! I've had an unbelievable three months, but now things are starting to settle down and I should be able to update more frequently. I hope, anyway . . .

The usual disclaimers apply . . . enjoy!

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We knew that land once, You and I,
and once we wandered there
in the long days now long gone by,
a dark child and a fair.
Was it on the paths of firelight thought
in winter cold and white,
or in the blue-spun twilit hours
of little early tucked-up beds
in drowsy summer night,
that you and I in

Sleep went down
to meet each other there,
your dark hair on your white nightgown
and mine was tangled fair?

From the poem, "The Little House of Lost Play" in The Book of Lost Tales by JRR Tolkien

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Chapter 6: Lost

Remus Lupin looked down at the sleeping figure of Sirius Black and watched in consternation as his friend thrashed about in his bed. The slumbering man seemed to be choking for breath, his body bathed in a light sheen of perspiration.

"He looks like he's in agony," thought Remus.

He'd been worried for Padfoot . . . he really hadn't seemed like himself for the last couple of months. When Remus had asked Sirius about it, he'd dismissed his concerns with a wave. "It's nothing," he'd said distractedly. "I'm just tired, that's all." Then he would launch into a lame explanation about how running the team for the Warbleton Wombats was a demanding job and that they needed a new seeker . . . and how Harry couldn't do it, etc., etc.

But Remus knew diversion tactics when he heard them. He'd noticed the dark circles under his friend's eyes and the way his skin was starting to look rather translucent.

What the hell was up with Sirius these days? He seems so lost.

Remus had stopped by that morning to check on his friend and had become concerned when there had been no response to his insistent knocks on the door. He'd hoped the reason was because he had some chit in his bed and couldn't be arsed to answer. However, when he heard Padfoot yelling, he easily broke through the wards and stormed Sirius' bedroom . . .

Only to find him in the throes of a terrible nightmare.

"No," Sirius muttered in his sleep. "You can't leave . . . please Cissy, don't listen to them!" His voice rose quite loudly. "We can be together now . . .no! NO! LET GO OF HER!"

He clawed frantically in the air as he screamed, "CISSY! COME BACK!"

Remus was struck by the anguish in Sirius' voice. It rather reminded him of the howling noises he used to make, before he had Wolfsbane Potion to ease his transformation.

Whatever Padfoot was dreaming about, it sounded awful.

Sirius woke up with a sudden start, yet he didn't appear to be surprised to see Remus standing in his bedroom. He blinked sleepily at the werewolf.

Remus sat down on the side of the bed. "Sirius . . . how long have you been having nightmares?"

"Erm . . . for about twenty five years?" Sirius tried to sound lighthearted, but failed miserably. Remus inspected his face, eyes narrowed.

"What were you dreaming about?" he asked, rather casually.

Sirius frowned. Try as he might, he couldn't remember the details, only that something horrible was happening and that it involved Narcissa Malfoy.

"I don't remember," he said, sounding evasive. Remus wasn't fooled.

"Do you even want to?"

Sirius squirmed in discomfort. "Look Mooney, just leave it alone," he said harshly. He brushed a hand through his tangled dark hair, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

Remus recognized the mulish expression on his face. The man was hiding something.

"I'm sorry Sirius, but I can't. I've watched you suffer a lot over the years, and I could certainly understand it then, given the circumstances, but I have to say that I just don't understand your current torment. Voldemort is dead, and not only have you been cleared of all charges, but you're also considered a war hero. You'd be one of the most eligible bachelor in Britain, if it weren't for the fact that you're getting a little long in the tooth."

Sirius grinned, "The girls don't seem to mind my age."

Remus gave him a scathing look. "Perhaps it's time you started acting your age."

Sirius looked positively horrified, which made Remus laugh.

"Stop trying to change the subject, it won't work. And I could help you, you know," he said when he stopped chuckling. "I heard what you were yelling. This has to do with Narcissa Malfoy."

Sirius wouldn't meet his eye and Remus gave a long, suffering sigh.

"I've never understood your fascination with that Ice Queen," he said distastefully. "But I must say that she did seem to thaw out when she was with you. And then suddenly, things changed. I never understood what happened."

"Lucius Malfoy happened."

Remus gave him a considering look. "No, something happened before Malfoy came on the scene. Don't you remember? One day the two of you were the best of friends and the next, you acted as if she was merely some distant acquaintance. And she seemed to ignore you completely. What the hell really happened? You never wanted to discuss it."

Sirius shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Remus looked thoughtful. "Curious," he said softly. "Yes . . . you definitely need me to help you."

"What makes you think I need help?"

"Honestly, Sirius. Your resistance is getting to be quite vexing. To be more specific, I could help you remember your dreams, you fuckin' plonker! Perhaps we could get to the root of why you're being plagued by nightmares."

Sirius pushed Remus away from the bed as he swung his legs over the side to get up. "It's not important, Mooney. Just leave it alone."

Remus decided to change strategies. "What if I told you that sooner or later, these nightmares are going to prevent you from keeping the young witches in your bed?"

Sirius smiled ruefully. "What if I told you that they already have? Apparently, yelling another woman's name in your sleep really puts a girl off."

Remus arched a startled eyebrow. "Oh, well . . . that settles it then," he said. " I'm surprised you've allowed it to go on this long, considering the price you're paying. Yes, I think it's time we did something about this."

"What are you going to do?"

"Before I tell you, I have to ask . . . do you trust me, Sirius?

"Don't be ridiculous, of course . . ."

Remus interrupted him. "No, you don't understand. Do you trust me with your deepest, darkest secrets? Things that you wish no one to know? Because if you don't trust me, this isn't going to work . . . "

A light went off in Sirius' head. "You don't mean to," he sputtered. "Surely you wouldn't . . . "

Remus interrupted him. "You know I was trained in Legilimens by Snape . . . and don't call me Shirley," he added. "Sorry . . . it just had to be said."

Sirius looked like he was ready to flee.

"See here, Padfoot," Remus continued impatiently. "My training came in useful during the war. At the time, Snape's life was in grave danger, and we didn't think he was going to survive the outcome. Of course, he's better at it than I am. Perhaps we should seek his assistance?"

He gave Sirius an evil grin.

"FUCK NO! I'd rather be spanked and shagged senseless by Sybill Trelawney than to have Vladimir Dracula's Evil Twin delving into my private thoughts!"

"That could be arranged . . . I noticed Sybill was staring at your crotch during Hermione and Snape's wedding reception. I think she may have even licked her lips once or twice."

Sirius shuddered, and then began snorting in laughter. "You are an utter bastard, Remus Lupin. And yes, I do trust you, but there has to be another . . ."

His eyes met Remus' and before he could think, he heard the werewolf mutter, "Legilimens!" and felt as though nimble fingers were delving through the deepest recesses of his mind.

It happened so fast, that he didn't even have time to think. He tried to relax and not to push Remus away, but it was starting to feel extremely intrusive. Just as he was going to sever the connection, Remus' presence left his mind.

When he finally opened his eyes, Sirius noted that his friend looked rather pale. In fact, he looked like he'd gotten the shock of his life.

Nervously, Sirius tried to diffuse the situation. "From the look on your face, I'd say that my mind is a vast wasteland," he joked. But the werewolf didn't smile. In fact, he looked very disturbed. Finally Sirius couldn't stand it anymore.

"Mooney, just come out with it! What did you see?"

Remus swallowed nervously. "I. . . I . . . I think someone or something has tampered with your memories."

Sirius was stunned. Tampered? But how . . .

"There were some memories in pieces, but I did get some important snippets," said Remus. "It appears that you are trying to remember some things that happened long ago . . . events that have been buried all this time."

He hesitated for a few seconds before he added: "And they involve Narcissa Malfoy."

Sirius looked at him with incredulity. "But they're only dreams! I've been having strange dreams for several weeks now!" His face reddened. "I didn't tell you about them because . . . well . . . some of them were rather shocking . . . I didn't think you wanted to hear about my dreams of shagging my cousin." He looked away in embarrassment.

Remus gave him a gentle look. " I know now why you didn't want to share them with me, but you must know that you can tell me anything. I'd be the last person to judge anybody, you know that."

In relief, Sirius let out a breath he'd been holding. Remus continued with his explanation.

"Part of the training in Legilimens is to distinguish dreams and thoughts from actual memories. Most people's subconscious minds swirl between the three and it's very important to know which is which . . . and what you've been experiencing are not dreams, Padfoot. They're true memories."

Sirius began to shake uncontrollably.

"Oh Great Merlin! I've fucked my own cousin! And I don't even remember it! How bloody sick is that?" It was the closest Remus had ever come to seeing Sirius cry. "This must be affecting him more deeply than I ever knew," he thought.

Remus made a soothing noise before putting a comforting hand on Sirius' shoulder.

"I don't know if this will be any consolation to you, but one thing I do know, my friend: Apparently, Narcissa Malfoy is not your cousin. Of that I am certain. And at one time, you knew it, too."

Sirius felt as if he was once again falling back into the Veil of the Shadows.

He couldn't breathe.

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Hermione carried a tea tray into the Potions Lab on the first floor of their house, certain that she'd find her husband bent over a boiling cauldron, deep in concentration. It wasn't that he expected her to wait on him, but she knew that when he was immersed in his work, he sometimes forgot to eat. Since giving up his job at Hogwarts months ago, it seemed that he had a never-ending list of "Things I Put Off For Years And Now Have Time To Do." He was keeping himself very busy.

He grunted a greeting at Hermione as she came in. "Could you hand me that bowl of Pandulus?" he asked without looking up.

Hermione grinned.

"I'm not aware of any potion that requires prawn," she said.

"It's not a potion . . . it's my lunch."

"And here I thought you were doing important work."

He was about to reply that lunch was very important, when he looked past her shoulder and noticed that the crystal ball on his desk was beginning to glow an angry red. He marched over to it and looked in closely.

When Draco and Harry had left town the previous afternoon, Snape had insisted on casting Flitwick's Traceless Tracking Charm on them, just in case things went wrong. The biggest problem with the charm was that, while one could visually track those who were under the spell, verbal communication was impossible. However Severus had perched the crystal tracking ball in a prominent place, knowing that Potter and Malfoy would devise some way to keep him informed.

Of course, when those two got together, it was a certainty that something was going to go astray. In this case, it appeared that Harry had unexpectedly Apparated them to Nepal. At least that's what the Traceless Tracking Charm Map had indicated last night, but at this point, Severus had no idea what had brought them there.

He figured that the further away they were from Britain, the safer they'd be.

Much to Severus' delight, it appeared that their "accommodations" . . . and he used the term loosely, had left something to be desired. From what he could deduce, the two were staying in some remote cave, deep in the mountains.

And Malfoy was in a monumental snit.

Peering into the crystal ball, he was not surprised to see that Draco had figured out a way to communicate.

"Oh for bloody sakes . . . it's Malfoy, and he looks to be in a temper."

Severus could see the rocky walls of the cave and noticed that his nephew looked disheveled, as if he hadn't slept a wink. His long blonde hair was tangled, flopping over one eye and his sneer would have frightened the dead, except he was currently holding a ridiculous looking sign. The same message was flashing over and over again.

"Hermione," called Severus. "You have to come over and see this. It will make your day."

Hermione got over to the crystal ball just in time to see Draco displaying a magical cue card, which read,

"UNCLE SEVERUS: GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE . . . NOW!"

Suddenly a hand shoved him out of the way and Harry appeared in the crystal ball. He also had a cue card, which read,

"IGNORE HIM. HE'S A WUSS."

Draco pushed him back, but not before Hermione and Severus saw that his cue card had changed to the words, "FUCK YOU, WANKER! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Harry then lunged at Draco, swinging his cue card, and hit the blonde in the face. Pretty soon there was mutual hair pulling and then Draco tripped Harry and they crashed to the ground. The last thing the Snapes saw was a blur of color as the two were violently rolling around the cave floor. Thankfully, the image faded from the crystal ball.

Hermione was hooting with laughter and Severus even allowed himself an amused smirk.

"I'm glad we're only getting a little taste of what they're up to," wheezed Hermione. "I'm sure I'd want to kill them both by now, if I had to spend even a day with them. What a couple of big babies."

Severus couldn't have agreed more.

"Those two couldn't stick to an original plan if their lives depended on it, which it usually does," he sighed, before changing his facial expression to one of determination. "Well, the location may have changed, but I think it's time to spice things up a bit. Like all children, they need a diversion, and I have just the thing to take their minds off their troubles."

Hermione looked at him with suspicion. He looked mighty pleased with himself. Whatever it was, the boys were in for it, judging by the peaceful expression on her husband's face.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked cautiously.

"If The Dunderheads won't t go to the Mountain, then the Mountain will go to The Dunderheads," he said enigmatically.

"Good Lord . . . now you're talking in riddles. What is that supposed to mean?"

Severus walked back to his worktable and twirled the wooden spoon between his long fingers before dipping it into the cauldron. "You'll see, my darling. Potter and Malfoy won't know what hit them."

"Draco's right, love. You're going barmy on me."

He gave her a fake glare before dropping the spoon on the table and pulling her into his arms. They stood in the lab, contentedly wrapped around each other. Hermione pulled back to look up at him.

"You look remarkably happy that they're gone," she observed.

"It's just that they're so high-maintenance," sighed Severus. Hermione nodded her head in understanding as Severus looked down and inspected her closely.

"You look like you're dressed to go out," he murmured.

"I'm meeting Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron," she said, rather defiantly.

Severus frowned. "I don't like the idea of you Apparating in your condition."

"My condition? I'm pregnant, not terminally ill. I'm going and there's no stopping me. I'll be home in a couple of hours."

He gave her his best scowl. "You are the most stubborn, inflexible, pigheaded . . . "

Before he could finish his sentence, she'd already Apparated to London.

He sighed. "And she says I'm the barmy one. It's no wonder I'm reduced to talking to my food," he said to the prawns in the cauldron.

To his relief, they didn't answer back.

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It was dark in the Hogs Head, but then, no matter the time of day or night, it was always dark in that grimy little hellhole. Perhaps that was the reason that it seemed to attract the Oddities and Uglies of the wizarding world . . .

At least they didn't have to actually see each other.

Many wizards and the like would keep their heads down, or their faces covered and the other patrons roundly ignored most. A good number of people there seemed to fade into the filthy woodwork, which is why it was always the best place for a clandestine meeting.

In short, nobody gave a flying doxy why you were there.

Tucked back into a corner booth, a young man sat glumly sipping a strange looking purple liquid that would occasionally emit flashy yellow sparks. He was remarkable only in the brightness of his hair, which consisted of florescent green and blue dreadlocks, and in the very elaborate tattoos, which covered his body. He was a strange looking wizard to be sure, yet he commanded very little attention.

Therefore, nobody noticed the tall, hooded figure gliding smoothly over to the booth. The figure bent low to hiss in young man's overly-pierced ear.

"Give it up, you look ridiculous."

The young man gave a pout. "And you look like Voldemort's taller, more annoying little brother. What's with the Death Eater's robes? You were never a Death Eater."

"It's an inside joke," the other man answered. He pulled back his hood to reveal a face that looked exactly like that of Severus Snape. The young man laughed.

"I love your sense of irony," he said. "However did you get any Snape Bits to put in the Polyjuice?"

"Let's just say that we run in some of the same circles."

"Aren't you afraid somebody is going to report you to the Ministry?"

The other man looked around the room with contempt. "What? . . . in this crowd?"

"Good point," murmured the other.

The faux Deatheater gave the young man a penetrating look, which made him squirm. His velvet Snape-voice served to make him even more uncomfortable as it growled:

"There's no need to try to hide it. I can smell your fear. You fucked up and you know it."

"I'm sorry, my Lord. I don't know how he got away, but . . .

"Be thankful he got away! If he hadn't gotten away I would have personally killed you with my bare hands. What the hell were you thinking? You know that we're not ready yet. There are many things that must be put into place before we kill the bastard. And now he's been alerted to his danger."

His lip curled up in true Snape-like fashion. "I'm surrounded by idiots and fools," he sighed.

The younger man leaned forward in the booth, his voice a harsh whisper. "Maybe if you told us who you really are and what you have planned, then perhaps the Rank & File would be more inclined to follow your lead. It's getting more and more difficult to control them."

The Severus Snape-Clone reached over and grabbed the young wizard by a handful of dreadlocks. "Get this into your empty head: You don't need to know who I really am . . . only that I can make your life miserable with a simple command or a flick of my wand. Suffice it to say that we all have the same goal, even if our methods are very dissimilar." He abruptly let go of the other wizard's hair before adding,

"Your meddlesome ways have irreparably changed things. There is a new plan, now."

He paused dramatically, enjoying the look of surprise on the other's face.

"You have a new member of your group," he continued smoothly. "One Jacob Sternbucket, or Jacob the Apothecary, as he likes to be called."

Mr. Dreadlocks just nodded, before finding his voice. "But how . . . how . . . "

"Not that it matters, but I always like to do a little independent investigation of any new member to the Cause . . . strictly precautionary, you know." He paused as a buxom barmaid, with a very large wart on her nose, served him his martini.

"We don't get much call for a fancy drink like that," she observed loudly. "Ol' Clancy had to look that one up in a book."

The young man snorted loudly. "Clancy has never read a book in his life," he muttered as the barmaid swished away. He turned his attention back to the phony Potions Master. "So what did you find out about my friend, Jake? I think he's a bit of a whiner, but his apothecary may be good for some needed supplies, if you know what I mean."

"Indeed," said the other. "In fact, I found out something very interesting about Mr. Sternbucket. As you're well aware, he's very susceptible to the effects of alcohol."

"Loose lips sink ships," snickered Mr. Dreadlocks.

"A condition that may prove fatal to him someday, but for now, he's very useful. Jacob Sternbucket revealed to me that he is the inventor of a very important potion, although he's too thick to realize the treasure he's produced. In fact, he believes that he's a colossal failure because of it. I happen to know otherwise."

It seemed perfectly natural to see Severus Snape reach into his robe pocket to pull out a vial of colorless liquid.

"It looks like water," said the young man.

"That's the beauty of it," said his Lordship. "And the first person who will get to test it is Ginny Weasley."

The young man's face almost turned as green as his dreadlocks. "Ginny Weasley? But, but . . . I thought we were after Draco Malfoy!"

"That's the problem with you and your lot . . . you think entirely too small." He lifted the vial to his nose, and gave a delicate sniff.

"This is going to buy us some time."

To be continued . . .

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A/N: Again, thank you all for your reviews . . . I wish I had time to respond individually to them. They continue to inspire me to do my best. And of course, thanks to my beta Elizabeth for all her help.